Made The Backstory Of Emily. I Want All 3 Of The Polys To Have Some Sort Of Trauma In Their Past Cause...

Made the backstory of Emily. I want all 3 of the polys to have some sort of trauma in their past cause... why not!

Mr. Bentle

Summary - Emily's past, starring Mr Bentle.

Warnings - sexual assault, homophobia, pedophilia, recovering rape victim, poly! relationship, gn! character, metions of being a stripper, crying, angst, a bit of fluff at the end, child neglect

Words - 1408

When I was a child, everyone thought something was wrong with me. They thought it was weird that I told adults that their jokes weren’t funny, when I didn’t smile, and for having little to no interest in boys. 

In my small hometown in the mostly barren North Dakota, everyone knew me as the town weirdo. I didn’t really mind. I didn’t care when the girls called me names and wrote stuff on my locker. I ignored the silence that would ensue every time I would walk into a room. 

That was all before I had come out as pansexual. After, it wasn’t just teenagers that bullied me. I had grown men and women calling me slurs on the daily. My teachers would completely ignore me. And my parents? They didn’t want to have anything to do with me. To them, I was a fuck up. A mistake that they tried to erase.

The only person that really seemed to care was my dance teacher. Mr. Bentle was the first person I came out to, and he took it in stride. Unlike all of my other relationships, nothing really changed between Mr. Bentle and me… or at least I had thought so.

~

“Emily, you’ve done this routine thousands of times. What’s going on with you today?” Nothing was wrong. I just happened to have a medium-sized laceration on my foot that might have been affecting my movement. It seemed when I left my dance bag at school this Wednesday, someone slipped something sharp into my shoes.

“I apologize, Mr. Bentle. I-” Before I knew it, Mr. Bentle had stridden across the room. His warm breath tickled my neck as he repositioned my arm from behind.

“Like this, Em,” It took him a little longer than usual to back away from my form, “Let’s try to keep that arm there, yes? Again!”

~

That was only the beginning. His lingering touches turned to caresses and then something different altogether. Me being me, I didn’t realize what he was doing. I merely thought he was being kind; it’s not like I had anything to compare it to. When he would invite me over to his house to “hang out”, I thought the touching was normal. I didn’t particularly like it but, he was the only one who cared for me.

Soon, my dance classes turned into inappropriate sessions with Mr. Bentle. This is when I started to realize that something had to change. I love dancing. I’ve been dancing since I could stand up on my own, so I wasn’t fond of losing this time to do my only passion. 

I know now that it wasn’t a good idea, but I asked Mr. Bentle to stop with the caresses and heavy petting. Maybe I should have asked for help, but who would have helped me? Plus, I thought he would have just stopped if I told him I was uncomfortable because I thought he cared.

~

I have no nerves as I walk into Mr. Bentle’s studio. What’s there to be nervous about? This is going to go just how I planned it; I’ll ask Mr. Bentle to resume my lessons and we’ll get on with it. 

“Mr. Bentle,” I start when I see him already sitting toward the back of the studio, “can we please talk?” Mr. Bentle smiles and pats the spot beside him. I sit down and his hand gravities to my thigh. He gives it a gentle squeeze and looks me in the eye.

“What’s going on?” His face is open and nurturing. It almost distracts me from the feeling of his hand drawing higher on my leg.

“I would like to continue my dance lessons, sir,” his grip tightens on my thigh, “I understand that you care for me and I like you too, but I like dancing more than anything. I would rather do that than just hanging out.” His face is no longer open and kind. It is now filled with malice and indignation. I don’t understand why.

“You wanna break up with me?” He sneered.

I was confused, “Since when were we dating?” That made him angrier. The hand that didn’t have my thigh in a death grib went to my upper arm. He wasn’t gentle. I knew it was going to brusie, so I tried to pull away.

“Stay still, bitch,” he spat, “You wound me. After all I’ve done for you, you don’t want to be with me?”

My back touched the seat of the couch as he towered over me. For the first time since I started classes with him, I was scared of him. I’m never scared of anyone. It’s one of my odd traits, I didn’t feel as much as other people did; however, my instincts decided now was the right time to have fear kick in.

His hand traveled up my stomach and onto my chest, “W-what are you doing?” He huffed in annoyance. My heart felt as if it was going to beat out of my chest and I struggled to breathe. I wasn’t sure if my breath stuttered because of my fear or Mr. Bentle’s hands groping on my chest. 

“Just stay quiet. We’ll call this a little apology for breaking up with me.”

~

Anyone with common sense should know what occured in Mr. Bentle’s studio that day. When I had gotten home later at night, my parents had scolded me for staying out past my curfew. They had no idea that it wasn’t my fault at all. 

I went on with my life like normal after that, except without any dance classes. I took it upon myself to dance on my own. You couldn’t really tell I had been raped. The only sign was that I stopped doing ballet, the dance style Mr. Bentle had taught me. It made me sick to even look at the photos of me in my tu-tu that were scattered around my room.

When I turned 18, I left the small, confining town of North Dakota. I didn’t turn back and I never will. I grew to realize through my friends and partners that there was nothing there for me anymore. I’m not sure if there was ever anything there for me.

I turned away from classic dance entirely and started doing a more… provocative type of dance. It helped me release anger and sadness that I never knew I had and the sway of my hips and the cold touch of the pole made me feel free. It was the opposite of the seering hot touch of Mr. Bentle’s hands.

Being with Agatha and Francis, I’ve become more in touch with how I’m feeling. I know how to identify when I’m sad or angry, and if I’m paying attention, I can pick those feelings up on other people. I’m still blunt and straightforward. Francis said I should never get rid of this trait because she loves seeing me piss people off. Agatha needs that kind of straightoforwardness because they hate reading inbetween the lines.

Do my partners know what happened to me? They know to an extent. They know were I grew up and how I was treated… and they know of Mr. Bentle. They don’t know what he did; they both assume it was some popular upperclassmen, and I don’t plan on telling them it was him. Even though he did something terrible to me, I won’t ignore the fact that he opened me up to a whole new world of something I still love dearly; dancing. He encouraged me to dance even when my parents refused to pay for it, and even if that was for some malicious reason, I won’t let myself forget that. 

I will never thank him or be thankful to him. I will never put his name in a positive light and I avoid talking about him in general. He hurt me. Me, only 15 and him the age of 34. I won’t forgive him, but I’ll never forget him.

“Em, you can still come to dinner, right?” Francis called from their shared bedroom. Emily was sat in the living room and was staring down at her paper with a blank face.

“Emily?” Agatha lifted Emily’s face and wiped away tears she hadn’t known were there, “Are you okay?”

“I-” she paused, thoughts going back to the studio. The sizzling hot heat of his hands. Him, “I’ve let him go.”

“Who?”

“Mr. Bentle.”

Francis' Headcannons

She’s always the designated driver even if she’s consumed alcohol due to her high alcohol tolerance

Because of her panic attacks, Francis will sometimes stay at home for days after they happen because she can’t fathom getting up to do anything. Sometimes she can’t even talk to her partners

Being from Texas, she was forced to wear cowboy boots so much that she now can’t stand them. The only time she’s worn them since was for foreplay and then she took them straight off

Most of the time when Francis has sex, she doesn’t cum. Not because her partners don’t please her but because she is too focused on pleasing her partners. It arouses her to make her partners feel good

All of the art in the house is made by Francis

If Francis were still a teenager and had time to play video games all day she would be called “chronically online”

Francis dappled in self-harm when she was in high school so her panic attacks wouldn’t be as bad. Now she has her partners to help with her panic attacks

Francis was accepted into Julliard, Harvard, Brown, and Stanford with full-ride scholarships but didn’t go to college because she thought it was “lame” 

Is legit a certified genius but doesn’t care to do anything about it

Francis is dating a guy that isn’t connected to her relationship with Jules and Emily. His name is Conner and her lives in Delaware. Jules and Emily know about him and she goes to see him every few weeks

Connor doms her to the point of subspace and she loves it

Connor is a lawyer so Francis gets spoiled anytime she visits

Connor is married to Sarah and Sarah and Francis get along very well

She likes going to parties with Manny because neither of her partners is interested in that

She always wins when it comes to the drinking contests

Is Manny’s wingman

Gets to listen to Manny’s drunk rambling about his job and other amusing things in his life

After she tried the ultra gold monster energy drink, she never had another flavor

Masturbates to country music

AN: I'm planning on writing smut with either Connor or between one of the Power Polys. I'm not sure yet, but I plan on writing a lot this summer. I also entered into a international writing contest for NCYMidnight. Their 100-word Microfiction. Really excited to see if I win. That would be really cool.

I have written a small drabble that fills my gay heart with joy-

Afternoon Things With Lovers

Summary - Emily spends time with her partners before work.

Warnings - soft smut, poly relationship, queer relationship, talk of female anatomy, gn! character, kinda cringe

Words - 539

“Baby-” Agatha moaned. They were currently being teased relentlessly by their girlfriend. Emily sucked and bit at the soft skin of Agatha’s throat while perched on top of their lap. With Emily’s never-ending horniness, situations like this happened regularly. Not that Agatha minded. They loved the soft and sometimes firm touches of their girlfriend.

Emily’s hands traveled from Agatha’s face and down to their chest. She gently squeezed the soft cushioning there eliciting a moan from her partner. Emily loved Agatha’s breasts and was glad that they loved them as well. She would often find herself falling asleep on them, unconsciously touching them or… sucking them; the nipple piercings tasting like a penny in her mouth.

“Ah, please, Em-” Agatha uttered, completely blissed out. Emily was so focused on finally giving her lover the satisfaction that they desired that neither of them heard the door open.

“Hello, hello, hello my pretties,” Francis sang as she entered the room. Upon seeing her partners panting on top of each other, she smirked, “Having fun without me?”

Getting over her initial shock from the sudden intrusion, Emily went back to pleasing the person under her; however, Agatha still had their eyes locked on their second girlfriend and let out an embarrassing moan when they felt Emily hit their sweet spot. Francis’ smirk only grew wider.

 “Got horny,” Emily finally replied.

Francis’ eyes went to the back of her sockets, “Darling, you’re always horny.”

“Your point being?” Francis was about to throw back a snarky reply but a low growling cut her off. Both girlfriends turned their attention to their third lover. 

Agatha hated being ignored. Especially when they were in a vulnerable state like this. With Emily’s fingers putting them on cloud nine, they wanted all of the attention. It took everything not to bite their girlfriend's shoulder. They knew Emily would hate that.

“Sorry, was I ignoring you, my love?” Emily’s grin is wide while she strokes Agatha’s cheek with her unoccupied hand. Agatha immediately leans into her touch even though they should be mad; after all, Emily was definitely ignoring them on purpose.

“Ags, you’re the handsomest person I ever done seen,” Francis coos, joining her partners on their shared bed. Agatha turns bright red and Emily just pouts, “Em, you’re not handsome… you’re downright sexy,” Francis drawls, her Southern accent thicker than it usually is.

Emily lets out of soft giggle at the praise and Agatha gets rewarded greatly for it. Agatha’s squirming for dear life under their girlfriend, so close to the edge. They let out a moan and finish when Francis connects her lips with their pierced ones. Emily gives them a soft peck on the forehead before lifting herself off of their lap. Agatha would have protested, but their mouth was currently occupied with a tongue down their throat.

“Gotta go,” Emily slips on her green converse, “I’m already 20 minutes late 'cause I couldn’t help myself. Take care of them, Fran?”

Pulling away from Agatha’s swollen lips, Francis replies, “Obviously.”

Emily is out the door not a second later. Francis goes back to kissing her partner but much softer. Both of the lovers drift off into a faraway world, their lips keeping them linked together.

Just had a dream that I wrote the most amazing poem in existence while on a date with someone. I woke up and I can't remember the poem. I've never been so disappointed in my life. Wtf.

Lmao

Been working on little blurbs for the "Power Polys". I have a bunch of them but this is the one I decided to publish first-

Rules, Rules, Rules

Summary - Agatha doesn't wait for their girlfriends to play with their new toy.

Warnings - smut, porn with plot, gn! character, poly! relationship, brat behavior, Francis being hot, lil bit of choking, use of vibrator

Words - 769

Agatha was itching to get home. They had had the greatest day in the world. So many good things happened to them! Well… maybe just one thing. Their package finally arrived. They had caught a glimpse of their name on a box on the counter and they never order anything so they knew exactly what it was. 

Their new vibrator.

It was supposed to be revolutionary. The best thing to ever grace their body, and the ratings most definitely reflected that. They couldn’t wait to use it. They were so excited that they didn’t care about the “no pleasuring yourself without one of your girlfriend’s permission” rule. 

Agatha glanced at their phone’s clock once more and decided taking the day off one minute early wouldn’t be that big of a deal. 

When they got home to an empty apartment, they weren’t upset. They were elated. They knew they didn’t have much time to play around with their new toy before their girlfriends came home, but part of them wanted to get caught. They wanted to feel that rush of excitement and fear when Emily came into the room and her eyes immediately darkened. Or when Francis opened the door and her face pulled an expression that only meant, “you’re in danger!”. 

Agatha rushed into their bedroom, vibrator package in hand, and shut the door. They tore open the delivery box to reveal the bright pink vibrator that they had waited two whole weeks for. It didn’t take them long to be spread out on their bedsheets, the pretty pink toy between their legs. 

They had their head thrown back and their toes curled tight. Their left hand squeezed and massaged their upper torso and their right hand kept the vibrations going steady on their center. The reviews were very true. This is the best they’ve ever felt with a toy. 

Agatha heard the front door open and the dangle of keys. Then they heard the sounds of two pairs of feet coming towards the bedroom door. Agatha knew they were going to be in trouble, but they pressed the toy harder into their clit. The door was locked, they had time.

“Feels so good!” They moaned out so their girlfriends could hear. They continued riding on their pink pleasurer as they listened to the doorknob jangle… then the rush of footsteps into the kitchen to find the key. 

“Agatha, you better not be doing what I think you’re doing,” Francis’ voice sounded from the hallway. Agatha only moaned louder and smiled when they heard Francis yell for Emily to find the key quicker.

“Ah, Fran, I’m gonna-”

“You better not-” 

They did. Francis and Emily got the door open just in time to see Agatha’s blissed-out face. Agatha really tried their best to keep their eyes open, but it really was just too good. They click off their vibrator and toss it to the side.

They opened their eyes to Francis’ nose touching theirs and a lot less oxygen flowing to their brain.

“You thought that was fucking cute, sunshine?” Agatha could only smirk. 

“I don’t think Francis found that very funny, Ags,” Emily stated.

“No. No, she really didn’t,” Francis’ hand loosens its grip on Agatha’s throat, “I thought you were gonna be good for me?”

“I’m sorry, Fran-”

“You’re not sorry. You’re smirking like the Grinch who stole Christmas,” Francis moves to straddle Agatha’s lap. She caresses Agatha’s body from breasts to hips, enamored by the softness of their skin. Agatha thought they were gonna get what they wanted.

Suddenly, Francis’ hands stop their movements, “You wanted someone to touch you, sweetheart? Is that what this is about?” Agatha shakes their head in agreement. Even if they were to get punished, which they will, they’ll still be getting touched by their girlfriends.

Francis lifts herself off of her partner and motions for Emily to come over from where she was stood watching in the doorway. When Emily gets within arms reach of Francis, the latter pulls the girl into a searing kiss. 

“Fran-” Agatha whined.

“No,” Francis pulled away from Emily’s lips, “You would have had both of our lovin’ if you had been patient and waited for us to come home… but you didn’t,” she pauses and wraps a strand of Emily’s hair around her finger, “Since you wanted to be touched so bad that you blatantly disobeyed our rules, you can just watch.”

“No! Francis, I’m sorry please-” But the girl had already gone back to pressing her lips to Emily’s, and Agatha knew not to push it. They were already in for a long night.

I would say it's my first smut to get pity points but... it's not - it's the first one I've posted tho! ~c0r0