Louder

by Postmodern

First published

Octavia and Vinyl Scratch have the time of their lives at a music festival where the sun is almost as hot as their passions. Although they're not alone, everyone seems to be on the same wavelength.

What happens when you give yourself up to the beat? What happens when the music truly takes control?

Octavia and Vinyl Scratch find out at a sun-drenched party, where the oddly familiar DJ is just as down as they are. And at the end of it all, everyone in the vicinity will learn a very simple fact.

You can't fight the rhythm.


Written for LiberatedGirl for the Summer Sin 2023 Story Exchange.

Tags: Human, OctaScratch, public sex, squirting

Derpi: 1236049

...With You

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“Why are there so many people, Vi?” Octavia pulled her wide-brimmed hat lower, as though she could cover her whole body with it. “Is this a festival, or some kind of polite riot?”

“‘Polite Riot’ plays tomorrow,” Vinyl Scratch said with a laugh. “Don’t think you’re down for that if you’re balking already, but we can work our way to it. Now come on, no talking yourself out of this one. Let’s find our place before the crush really starts.”

Octavia held onto her lover’s hand tightly as she allowed herself to be led through the throng, and she smoothed the bottom of her black and white, floral-print sundress across her thighs over and over again, knowing it was a nervous action but unable to stop herself. The heat made the thin fabric cling to her body uncomfortably, and as she took in the brightly-decorated fairgrounds, seeking a spot where she might retreat from the weather and the crowds, she wished she’d brought more than a hat to give herself a bit of shade.

Maybe an umbrella. And then, the wind would pick up and lift her up into the sky, blowing her far, far away from strange things like electronic music festivals. Perhaps it would be best to go back and grab something…though the event might be over by the time she returned. That would be such a shame…

Octavia felt a gentle squeeze in her palm.

“You know I can read you like a newspaper, right, Octy? I’m here. Don’t worry.” Vi slowed her pace, bringing them closer together among the initial throng that was, thankfully, beginning to thin as the attendees spread out across the wide, green festival space. Octy thought her lover looked like a natural party girl, with her denim short-shorts and belly shirt, and of course the shades that were working overtime in the bright morning sun. The differences between the two were so stark…yet she fought down her self-deprecating urges. They’d both gone through all that, and come out the other side in a better place…a happier place.

But the bad old times had been very bad indeed, and it was all too easy to let herself get crushed by the weight of memory. No…this wasn’t the time. They were there to have fun, so she should at least open herself up to the possibility.

The couple made good progress to the main pavilion, and Vi returned the happy wave from a woman on stage with a splash of colorful baubles in her long, pink hair, topped with a tiny golden crown upon her brow. “There’s DJ Monarch! Don’t mean to brag, but she’s a good friend of mine, and when I tell you she gave us the absolute hookup, it ain’t a joke. Prime spot up front and everything. Least we can do is stay for her first set, right? One set. Then we can go, if you really want.”

“I suppose…that’s not unreasonable,” Octy muttered. Certainly, such kindness deserved some consideration.

They found their spot directly in front of the stage, so close they could almost reach out and touch the equipment. Right on time, too; the show would be starting in minutes, and staff hustled to and fro, finalizing everything before the first act could begin. The speakers flanking the pavilion let out a hiss of white noise that made the hairs of Octy’s neck stand on end; the sound promised a loud, relentless experience, and in another lifetime, she would have been horrified at the thought of subjecting herself to such boorish, lowbrow noise.

The young woman glanced around at the audience. Despite her trepidation, she had to admit that this moment, right here, would always be special, no matter the genre or occasion. Everyone was vibrating with anticipation as they cheered, and clapped, and stomped their feet, while DJ Monarch pumped her fists, feeling the electricity and letting it feed into itself, turning the crowd into one massive sensory organ ready to explode at the slightest touch.

Octy felt her lover embrace her from behind, and she almost melted from the sensation.

“You feeling it yet?” Vi hadn’t missed the gasp from Octy’s slender throat, and the older woman chuckled as she brought her mouth close to a reddened ear. “We’re all here for the same reason…us, and them. It’s the beat. The pulse, the rhythm. You know what I mean. We all wanna feel it in the secret places…but it doesn’t have to be a secret, does it? Not here. You can let it aaaalll hang out, right in front of me.” She gave Octy’s neck a mischievous lick. “And if they wanna watch? Let ‘em.”

Octy let out a whimper. “Vi, you…we can’t…” That was all she was able to squeak out. The lights were flashing, and the smoke machine was firing up. Monarch put her monitor to her ear, while her other hand deftly brought the turntables at her fingertips to life with a whirring rainbow of color. The audience roared, then they quieted down, straining to hear the rising something creeping out of the gigantic speakers at each end of the stage.

It was a female vocal track, and it surprised Octy with its delicate, yet strident voice, growing louder as it repeated. From underneath came a piano, rich and bold. Strings picked up the melody, led by a viola that tugged insistently at Octy’s most sacred heart, while the winds of flute and oboe rounded out the composition.

“This…this is…” She couldn’t help showing her wide-eyed surprise, and Vi laughed out loud at her consternation.

“Monarch put together a little something special for this first one. I helped her out a bit, gave her a few samples.” Octy could feel her lover behind her swaying to the slow, yet insistent rhythm. “What do you think?”

“It’s so…luscious! So deep!” Truly, it was as if each instrument was playing from the bottom of the ocean, sending up sounds that rumbled into crashing waves as they pierced the surface of the waters. Though she could still make out the computerized nature of the song, there was a resonance between each layer that she’d seldom heard from electronica, even live.

Octy was utterly captivated. Still…there was something missing. And as she listened, that necessary element presented itself at last, rolling over everything like a driving storm.

Drums. They came in low, so low that she only sensed them at first, unconsciously. Yet her head was bobbing before she realized it, and then the percussion made itself known in no uncertain terms, shoring up the unfathomable orchestral arrangement with a relentless beat from the center of the Earth.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Her hips began to sway in time, and she felt Vi following her lead, scandalously holding tight to her shapely ass. The volume swelled…slowly, then faster, until the air itself seemed to shudder with the refrain, and all the residual coolness was replaced by pure, hot sound. Sweat ran down her exposed skin in rivulets, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling.

It wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

Vi removed the wide-brimmed hat with one hand, sending it high into the air with a careless toss. Octy blinked as the bright sunlight caught her eyes, and the flashing stage lights combined with the natural illumination to create a psychedelic display. Her heart began to pound in time, so hard she thought she might pass out if not for the sure presence of her lover, but she reveled in her body’s reactions. She was…yes, she was having fun! This was actually fun!”

“Vi…oh, thank you…thank you for…wait…OH!”

Vi’s hands were not as idle as they seemed. They crept up to Octy’s waist, following the contours of that slim body until they found their waypoint at a pair of soft, squeezable handfuls. But they didn’t stop there, and the young woman looked down in disbelief as Vi gently slipped the straps from her shoulders, exposing her pale breasts to all the world. A drizzle of sweat rolled down the side of her neck and onto her left tit, reaching the thick brown nipple just in time for Vi to catch the drop in her fingers, rolling it into the crinkled skin and causing a soft moan to emerge unbidden.

“A-ahhh! Oh my God…what are you doing? You can’t..you can’t just…AAH!”

“It was your idea to wear a sundress,” Vi growled as she continued her sport. “You know I can’t resist that kinda easy access.”

“B-but…NNNggh…but everyone will see…”

“See what? How much you’re creaming yourself? Don’t worry about that, we’re right out front. But, heads up. We do have an audience.”

Octy looked up blearily, just in time to meet DJ Monarch’s intense gaze. She had never felt so exposed, but she also made no move to cover herself or stop her lover’s play. The cute freckles on Monarch’s cheeks shifted with her devious grin, and her twinkling green eyes held Octy fast, as if she knew the young woman in front of her was caught in a sensuous conspiracy with no escape.

“She…she can see us! She’s watching!”

“Damn right she is.” One of Vi’s wandering hands navigated the curve of Octy’s right hip, revealing ever more milky flesh. “But it’s a two-way street, baby.”

Octy was about to ask what she meant, until she saw Monarch pick up something from just out of view. It was a pink box with what looked like a switch, and when the DJ pressed it, she instantly trembled, as if electrocuted. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, before opening again with a dreamy, lidded look, and her mouth hung slack while she panted like a mare in heat.

Instinctively, Octy knew what she was looking at, though her mind rebelled at the thought. “Did...did she just…”

Vi’s knowing chuckle sent a tingle up Octy’s spine. “Portable subwoofers come in all kinds of sizes these days, baby. Some of ‘em are really small…small enough to fit in all kinds of tight…wet…sticky places. I’d say ‘use your imagination,’ but it’s kinda obvious, ain’t it?”

It really was. The sharp movements of DJ Monarch’s lower half could only be called dancing by the most cursory look. The way she braced her legs and swung her hips against the table was absolutely primal in its single-minded intensity — it was a wonder she could still play her set, or even stand, as the music worked her body inside and out.

Two of Vi’s fingers slipped between thighs that were slick with more than just sweat, working their way into the crotch of Octy’s cute white panties and into her sopping pussy up to the first knuckles. The young woman mewled openly, no longer caring who could hear, and though she brought a trembling hand to her lover’s wrist, she couldn’t bring herself to extract those magical digits…not yet. It…it was…

“So gooood!” Octy groaned as her insides were rocked by a miniature orgasm, catching Vi’s hapless fingers in a fluttery death grip. Her ears burned as she felt her juices running into her socks, but the embarrassment only enflamed Octy further. Perhaps if Vi hadn’t been there, she would have been properly mortified, but here? Now? Like this?

The shame was a dash of scotch bonnet heat in an already spicy dish, giving the entire meal a dangerously powerful kick. Octy moved her hand further down, to Vi’s own, but instead of pushing the fingers away, she gripped her lover’s soaked digits with a special ferocity.

“Yeah, that’s right. Look at her,” Vi hissed. Octy obeyed, locking her eyes to Monarch as if she might disappear, like a desert mirage. Creamy squishes were just audible over the pounding beat as Vi matched Monarch’s thrusts with her own, sinking a third finger deep into Octy’s channel and working in and out, without reprieve.

“I’m looking! Oh, god…Vi…a-are we…?” Octy temporarily lost the use of her voice as her hips bucked mindlessly with Vi and Monarch’s movements. Together, they all danced a grinding waltz as old as time.

“Welcome to your first foursome,” Vi said with a chuckle. “You, me, and DJ Monarch…we’re fucking each other, right? But the music is fucking us all, in every hole. It’s a goddamn tentacle monster, and it’s making us airtight, Octy. The music is gonna reshape us. We’ll never be the same.”

Still, Vi gripped the mound of Octy’s pussy with a tight possessiveness, following the wild swings of her lover’s crotch with her palm as the young woman came again, loudly and messily, spraying the ground with silky fluids yet never breaking eye contact with Monarch. The DJ had one foot upon her table, and she was almost humping her equipment while she worked her platters, deftly switching from one track to another.

If the crowd didn’t realize what was going on before, they surely had to now. But it didn’t matter. Octy let herself become a slut for the music, taking in everything it had to give until it left her a whining, trembling mess that just…wanted…more! More!

Octy was so wired into the moment, she began to moan…loudly, crazily, until the young woman realized the familiar sounds were not coming from her. She squealed in shock as her most passionate sighs burst from the speakers, integrating into the surrounding tracks with a perfect smoothness and driving the song — along with the audience — into an absolute frenzy.

A few samples!” Octy gasped her accusation, though any anger was quickly swallowed up by her grunts of wild passion. When had Vi recorded them? Where?

“A month ago,” Vi whispered into Octy’s ear, sensing her questions. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, but it was Monarch’s idea. You just…”

Her breath quickened at the memory. “God, you were just…so fucking sexy, so beautiful that night...just like now. Are you angry? I should’ve said something-”

Octy reached behind herself with one hand and gripped the meat of Vi’s bubbly butt — no panties, of course — making the older woman’s halting apology choke in her throat. A middle finger pressed into that sweaty valley…slowly, deeply…sinking all the way into Vi’s tight asshole, until the digit was buried to the root.

“Y-you should have,” Octy said in a shaky voice. “We c-could’ve given her a duet. But we can fix that, can’t we? Come on, love. Let them hear you s-sing, too.” And another finger joined the first within Vi’s hot, sweaty anus.

“Fucking goddamn it!” Vi shamelessly yelled her pleasure. “Yeah, let’s go baby, fuck me! Fuck my ass!” Octy knew her girl had always been an anal freak, and when that special spot was hit just right, she could make enough noise to wake the neighborhood. True to form, Vi snarled like a beast under Octy’s expert ministrations, madly thrusting and wetting the younger woman’s backside with scalding juices.

The set was reaching its crescendo. Vi’s yelps and Octy’s moans — both real and recorded — came together in an orgasmic harmony that made them the center of attention, causing many others in the crowd to add their own voices to the passionate soundscape. All around, people were splitting off into twos and threes, inspired by DJ Monarch and the duo to embrace their own particular pleasures.

Suddenly, it wasn’t a foursome anymore. Octy found herself in the middle of a bonafide orgy as the song reached its climax. Even Monarch was now blatantly working her soaked pussy into a froth, getting herself off with her tiny pink speaker right there on stage. She moaned with utter abandon while the music fucked her into submission, and the beatific grin on her face told everyone with eyes that she was happily taking every inch.

Louder. Louder! Octy’s head was spinning as she let herself be carried away, gripping Vi as tightly as she was being held herself. The final part of the set was a drum-backed symphonic aria evoking nothing less than the Rapture itself, drawing them all up into a heavenly realm of pure music and sensation.

“Octy…fuck, baby…I’m gonna cum…fuck! Octy!” Vi’s hips slammed against her lover’s with manic speed while the younger woman held on for dear life. Octy’s own core clenched…hard, again and again, and she knew she was also sliding toward the precipice. She’d never taken her eyes off Monarch, not once, and now the creamy secretions flowing down the DJ’s wrist to stain her bangles and bracelets, along with Monarch’s lusty, open-mouthed expression, were enough to push the young woman right over the edge.

“Vi…it’s too much…love you! I love you!” The clenches became contractions, and she was lost.

It spread out in waves, with Octy and Vi at the epicenter. The moans and gasps of the audience rose into the air like smoke from an oracle, merging with the music and making it more than it was, while the unhinged howls of the pair's orgasms flowed over and through the last verse, a perfect complement to Monarch’s shuddering apex.

Yet the DJ made no noises herself, letting her music speak for her. The thundering ending to Monarch’s set, the uncontrollable fucking movement of her crotch and the wild spray of juices into the people below all became proof enough of her coming.

For a moment, all was silence…until an eruption of cheers, laughing, crying, and even stranger sounds exploded out of the crowd. The set had obviously gone over well.

Octy gasped and shuddered, nearly falling to her knees except for the strong, sure arms of Vi embracing her with painful tightness. Her fingers, almost crushed to powder by the force of her lover’s cum, slipped out of Vi’s now loosened asshole, their job completed. “Vi…I think…I want to get this…recording…like…12K, 20.1 surround…whatever’s the best.”

“Goddamn right,” Vi laughed. “Still wanna leave, or you up for more?”

“Mmm…how about we find a nice place in the shade?” Octy turned to face her lover at last, bringing Vi’s drenched fingers to her lips and tasting her own cream with lurid satisfaction. Maybe the music really had changed her. “But let’s not be too long. The festival’s still young, after all. There’s plenty of music yet to hear…and to make.”