Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Ménage à Trois Moins Un (Patreon)

It had been some little while since the contest. Or at least, it had been some little while as mortals count time. The Miss Brass Pageant was a distant memory and a looming delight. Soon the radiant lovelies of the far-flung planes would gather together, there to attempt glory and honor by exciting the interest of the Divines. Said immortals were prepared to lavish their attentions and their wishcraft upon that victor. It was, after all, their Purpose in meeting.

"I welcome my Goodly sister," said the Freaky Efreeti.  

"Greetings to my Neutral sister," said Archfey. And she said it in that special way known to make the genie's tail swish and coil just so. It was a voice full of promise, and moonlit bowers, and well-lubricated implements of exceptional girth.

"Shall we discuss our business over tea?" said the Freaky Efreeti. The rings in her nostrils and her nipples seemed to heat. Were they not enchanted, they may well have melted free of her body. 

"And how have you fared since last I entertained?" aske the Freaky Efreeti, the scent of jasmine wafting from her cup.

"Well indeed. There is one I know who sends his well-wishes. For it would be foolish of him to show less courtesy."

The genie crossed and re-crossed her legs. There were certain Influences seeping from her fellow Divine. These took the forms of scents and winks; small pauses as she spoke. The lovelorn djinn would not have it any other way. 

"Surely there can be no harm in waiting somewhere more comfortable?" said the Freaky Efreeti. Silks rubbed against her at the ankles and the knees and the soft fullness of her everything-else. The pair adjourned to some private chamber. And if there was room enough for one more -- indeed, if the magic of the Palace Combustible had prepared quarters and a place of honor for the Wicked sister -- the other Divines did not spend overmuch concern upon the subject. For surely she would appear before them in due course. She always had before. 

And somewhere, deep within the Demonweb Pits, a fleshless bit of bone groaned and cursed missed its flesh most keenly.