“I want you to finger my ass.”
Daisy looks down at where Lily is digging their claws into their hips and then looks at them, making eye contact before shying away.
“I don’t… doesn’t that hurt? Why do you want that?”
It’s not like they’ve never done anything with them before. Daisy’s fingered them, shoving their fingers into Lily’s cunt. They begged for more but they couldn’t bring themself to do it. Daisy stroked Lily’s ovipositor and kissed them until they came on just three of their fingers.
“Huh?” Lily keeps trying to make eye contact with Daisy and it unnerves them deeply. “Why would it hurt? It doesn’t hurt.”
It hurt when Chorus did it to them. She hasn’t done it since, content with stretching Daisy’s poor little slit with just her hand. They don’t get why Lily seems to like their scheduled visits with Chorus so much.
Lily kisses them before pushing away to get on their hands and knees on the bed. “You can use my slick to finger my ass.” They say it so casually, like they aren’t asking for pain. “Chorus does it sometimes.”
Daisy flinches when she’s mentioned. It’s not on purpose. It’s their fault, they know. Chorus is just doing what’s right.
(It’s another thing entirely that Daisy hates her for it. That’s not even the right word for it. Daisy doesn’t hate Chorus when she has her hand in them. 
IT MAKES THEM SICK.
CHORUS GETS TO DO WHAT SHE WANTS TO THEM AND THERE ISN’T A THING DAISY CAN DO TO KEEP THEMSELF SAFE.)
“C’mon, I’m already wet.” Lily holds Daisy’s hand, pressing on their knuckles, then dragging them to their slit.
They’re dripping already, cunt shining in the low light, and Daisy pushes two fingers into them. Lily complains if they try one. Two fingers or more. Not less.
“Does it hurt?” Daisy rubs the inside of Lily’s pussy, the smooth wet flesh spreading for them easily. “Tell me if I’m going too fast.”
“You’re going too slow,” they say, and curl their tail around Daisy’s wrist, urging them faster.
Of course. They lower to supporting themself with their elbows as Daisy fingerfucks their cunt. Lily’s ovipositor isn’t even fully extended yet they’re flushed and dripping.
Lily rolls onto their side, pulling their fingers out of them with their tail. Daisy hopes it’s over. “You can finger my ass now.”
Daisy presses the pads of their fingertips to Lily’s asshole, feeling it twitch under their touch. “Are you sure this doesn’t hurt you? I don’t want to…”
They scoff and Daisy cowers. “Chorus has put way more than just two fingers in me. It doesn’t hurt.”
Lily wraps their tail around Daisy’s arm again, pulling them into their ass, but Daisy is thinking about all the ways Chorus could have stuffed Lily’s ass. They want to ask, they need to know what Chorus did to them, beg them to say if they’re alright. It’s not like they’d even understand why they’d bother to ask. Whatever this feeling is will crush them, strangling their core.
Their ass is hot and tight. It makes Daisy want more, and for a second, Daisy gets why Chorus likes doing this to them. Daisy gets it and then that makes them feel ill, like they’ll die at any moment. They’re not her.
No one should like this, they think, but Lily doesn’t think that. Chorus doesn’t think that.
Lily loves this, mewling underneath them as Daisy curls their fingers upwards. It makes their chest feel heavy, like they’re being set on fire and they want to eat everything in sight. It’s awful.
“More, please,” they gasp, and Daisy slides a third finger into them without even thinking about it, spreading their fingers open. Lily presses their hips back against their hand, rattling out a breath.
They roll onto their back, Daisy’s fingers drawing out as they shift and they whimper, missing the warmth and tightness around them. Daisy pushes back into them and Lily holds their face to theirs, little noises drawn out of them every time that Daisy thrusts their fingers.
Lily holds their face close, trying to keep eye contact. It’s the way that Chorus holds their face when they’re shoving their fist into their cunt. It’s gross, that’s what it is. Lily’s eyes are a bright cyan, so pretty, but Daisy’s eyes are purple, almost pink. The same color as hers.
There’s suddenly this low purr. It hurts their head it’s so intense and then Daisy realizes it’s them purring. Angry, disgusted, and starving. They lash their tail and try to slide their pinky in with their other fingers. Lily’s slick was just enough for two, three was pushing it. The fourth is going in dry, cramming in with the rest. It should hurt. They want it to hurt. 
That awful tempest is going on inside Daisy, but Lily has already come.
“D-Daisy, I came,” they say, as if the spill on their tummy wasn’t a clear enough sign. They’re overstimulated already, sensitive from their orgasm. “You don’t have to keep- keep-”
Their knuckles pass through their strained rim and Lily cries out, stretched wider than they’ve ever been.
Daisy is mad. Hating themself, Lily, Chorus. It makes them sick, they like doing this, they like seeing Lily come undone for them. They want to purge everything in their body but they can’t even do that because all they have is themself. There are no guts to spill or bile to throw up. There’s just rock. It’s just them.
Angry, angry, angry, it makes them angry that this is what they are. Lily likes this. Daisy doesn’t. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Lily is enjoying this, ovipositor still swollen despite having come. They nearly have their whole hand in them and Lily is moaning. This is what makes them cry, when Chorus does it.
Daisy is in the wrong.
Daisy is fucked up.
They want to shove their whole arm into them, and then maybe claw their way out. It’s revolting.
“I’m stopping,” they say.
It’s not out of remorse. They wish it was remorse. They want to get their fist into Lily and make them sob like they do every time Chorus gets her hands on them. They want it so bad.
daisy
is
just
tired.
There were too many feelings inside of them, tearing them to pieces, and now those shreds are just floating. Now there’s nothing. Daisy pulls their fingers from them.
Lily doesn’t get it, not when all they can think about is their second orgasm. They miss the feeling of Daisy’s hand stretching them, breaking them. They feel so loose now. They were so close.
“Can’t you at least finish me again?” they ask, but Daisy doesn’t respond, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you want me to do you?”
Nothing.
Their loss.