Beg Pardon [Closed] - Printable Version
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Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 03-31-2017
![[Image: pardon.png]](https://alonimi.net/misc/images/graphics/pardon.png)
Content Warnings: Non-Consent ❤ Dubious Consent ❤ BDSM ❤ Improvised Bondage ❤ Hatefucking ❤ Maledom ❤ Femsub ❤ Boss/Employee ❤ Big Scary Monster Man/Horrible Waif ❤ Fucked Up Power Dynamics ❤ Size Difference ❤ Spanking ❤ Rough Sex ❤ Anal Sex ❤ Unprotected Sex But They're Magic So It's Fine ❤ Humiliation ❤ Hobbling ❤ Hair Pulling ❤ Vaginal Fingering ❤ Anachronistic Steampunk Outfits ❤ Degrading Language ❤ Submissive-as-Fucktoy ❤ Arguing About Politics Mid-Sodomy ❤
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-31-2017
This whole situation was fuckin' bullshit. From start to finish, it was the shittiest shit that a bull ever shat. It was utter nonsense. For one, she was perfectly innocent of all those crimes, which she'd told them, loudly. It wasn't her fault some idiot passed all these stupid laws about vandalism. And everyone knew it wasn't stealing if you needed it more? And she couldn't be held responsible for the actions of a bunch of wild rats, anyway.
And a DEATH sentence? Totally over the top! They were acting like she'd killed people! If people jumped into the river to avoid a tiny lil accidental fireball, that was hardly her fault. It's not like she was the reason the fucking river was practically a solid in places.
It had all been a farce, anyway! They just wanted her 'dead' so they could stick her in this stupid lil... whatever the fuck, secret service bullshit. She was supposed to be wearing a uniform now, and learning all these rules and being properly educated.
What-the-fuck-ever!
And they'd stuck her with the biggest hard-ass possibly in the world, both in a literal and figurative sense. She hadn't hated him the second the met him, actually. Eight feet of demon, he'd looked like he could have been a lot of fun. With a build and a face like that, he should have been out there causing mayhem with the best of them (which was her, she was the best of them).
But she'd definitely hated him the second he opened his mouth. Ugh. Tight-ass. Straight laced. Sooooo boring. So stodgy. So dull. With his stupid uniform that he always wore totally perfect and straight. He tucked his tail in his pocket like a watch, like that would make him less of a giant eight foot horned demon. He was tryin' to be all civilized; it drove her crazy. Plus, he acted like she should be happy to be kidnapped--it was still kidnapping if the government did it; she'd never agreed to this--and forced into service. This was gang-pressing! Practically slavery! Totally ludicrous!
So she'd been working out her sour temper by making his life a living hell, was all.
They were in a workshop now, because the library they'd been in had been beset by a mysterious rat infestation. They'd chewed up all the books she was supposed to be reading. Tragic. Truly. The rats in this city, goodness.
So he'd dragged her into this workshop and, hey, it wasn't too bad at first. Lots of things to fiddle with! She was a hands-on kinda learner. But he kept bogging her down with what she was suppooooosed to be doing and how it was supoooooosed to go and just UGH. Boring! Tight-ass! And he was distracting her with it, too.
Which was why her creation spontaneously combusted, and for no reason other than that. Definitely not an over-eager usage of fuel. And her haphazard application of said fuel was not the reason the entire surface of the workbench had gone up as well. That was just shoddy craftsmanship right there.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 03-31-2017
She had been, it had seemed, behaving. As such, he should not have been remotely surprised when something exploded.
And yet.
He'd had such hopes.
Gareth was angry about the books. He was, in fact, completely furious about the books. He knew good and well those rats were her fault. They were the most recent in a long line of petty slights and refusals to play by the rules, starting first and foremost with her outfit. Which was not even remotely professional attire, which involved far more buckles and belts and straps than any one woman needed and unnecessarily tight pants. Regardless of her personal feelings about the uniform, it was a symbol. It represented compliance with a system that had her rightfully at its mercy, and acceptance of her position as a woman who really should have been more grateful to not be hanging at the end of a rope with a snapped neck.
Yet! Yet. He was a reasonable man. He was beyond reasonable. He was the most utterly reasonable man that this awful woman would ever be likely to meet.
So he was meeting her halfway. Trying to find methods that would work on her terms. Putting her in a workshop, where she could be hands-on, since books seemed so bizarrely onerous to her.
Was it so absurd that he'd thought she'd play nice now?
Instead, explosions.
He ripped off his coat, and started using it to smother the flames, a hard set to his jaw. Once it seemed to be out, he paused to consider where he would go from here. Aside from telling this little idiot to go back out to hang.
(He didn't think he'd be doing that. Not really. She was awful and vile and generally just a wretched creature, but that didn't mean he wanted her dead. He disliked that she was making it so difficult for him to keep her alive.)
"This isn't working," he said finally, his low rocky rumble of a voice. "I've tried being nice, but I've clearly erred on the side of too nice." He turned his gaze to her – she was always lower than he expected her to be.
"You will wear your uniform, and you will do so immediately. Is that clear?"
And yet.
He'd had such hopes.
Gareth was angry about the books. He was, in fact, completely furious about the books. He knew good and well those rats were her fault. They were the most recent in a long line of petty slights and refusals to play by the rules, starting first and foremost with her outfit. Which was not even remotely professional attire, which involved far more buckles and belts and straps than any one woman needed and unnecessarily tight pants. Regardless of her personal feelings about the uniform, it was a symbol. It represented compliance with a system that had her rightfully at its mercy, and acceptance of her position as a woman who really should have been more grateful to not be hanging at the end of a rope with a snapped neck.
Yet! Yet. He was a reasonable man. He was beyond reasonable. He was the most utterly reasonable man that this awful woman would ever be likely to meet.
So he was meeting her halfway. Trying to find methods that would work on her terms. Putting her in a workshop, where she could be hands-on, since books seemed so bizarrely onerous to her.
Was it so absurd that he'd thought she'd play nice now?
Instead, explosions.
He ripped off his coat, and started using it to smother the flames, a hard set to his jaw. Once it seemed to be out, he paused to consider where he would go from here. Aside from telling this little idiot to go back out to hang.
(He didn't think he'd be doing that. Not really. She was awful and vile and generally just a wretched creature, but that didn't mean he wanted her dead. He disliked that she was making it so difficult for him to keep her alive.)
"This isn't working," he said finally, his low rocky rumble of a voice. "I've tried being nice, but I've clearly erred on the side of too nice." He turned his gaze to her – she was always lower than he expected her to be.
"You will wear your uniform, and you will do so immediately. Is that clear?"
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-31-2017
See? Look at this. Now he was acting like it was her fault there'd been a fire. Totally ridiculous, when it had clearly been his fault for talking at her when she was trying to focus. Her scowl matched this opinion. "Oh yeah, you're a fuckin' angel, boss," she said, rolling her eyes. The pun was definitely intended. The funny thing was, he could have been a lot more devilish than he was. That was the problem. He was so boring. Just looking at him, all perfect and unruffled, made her want to fuck with him. Who looked that put together after putting out a fire with their coat? Stupid.
She leaned back in her chair, teetering it haphazardly on the back two legs. She kicked her feet up onto the charred work table, crossing her arms.
"Don't have it," she declared. "Never got one." This was a patent lie. She had been given several, because rats, the gosh darn things, just so happened to eat the first two.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 03-31-2017
He narrowed his eyes at her.
"I thought this might happen," he said. He was an optimist, not an idiot. He stalked toward her, then past her. He grabbed the back of her chair in passing, and proceeded to drag her chair along the floor with her still in it. Until he dragged the chair in front of him, spun it around, and finally dropped all four chair legs to the floor. In front of a cupboard. Which he slid open, to reveal her uniform, hanging on a hook and perfectly pressed.
There were even stockings and boots set neatly to the side.
"There's your uniform," he said flatly, hands resting on the back of her chair. "Take it, and go change. Now."
"I thought this might happen," he said. He was an optimist, not an idiot. He stalked toward her, then past her. He grabbed the back of her chair in passing, and proceeded to drag her chair along the floor with her still in it. Until he dragged the chair in front of him, spun it around, and finally dropped all four chair legs to the floor. In front of a cupboard. Which he slid open, to reveal her uniform, hanging on a hook and perfectly pressed.
There were even stockings and boots set neatly to the side.
"There's your uniform," he said flatly, hands resting on the back of her chair. "Take it, and go change. Now."
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-31-2017
She let out a displeased yelp as the chair she was sitting on was yanked backward. She would have probably fallen out if she hadn't been leaning backwards. As it was, there was a lot of teetering as she tried not to fall. She would have liked very much to leap dramatically off of it, but didn't trust herself not to fall in a heap, which wouldn't have been very dramatic at all. At least, not in the way she wanted. So instead, she recrossed her arms and settled for looking as unruffled about being dragged across the floor as she could. Even when he spun her around. Which actually would have been kind of fun, in other circumstances. She should make some sort of... spinning... chair... thing.
She would need sheet metal. A lot of it.
But here he was distracting her again. She glared angrily at the ridiculous thing in front of her. They dared to call it a uniform.
If hers had looked like his... Well, okay, she still would have hated it and refused to wear it, but slightly less vehemently. But no. Hers was some stupid dress thing. It had a skirt. The skirt was poofy. It had long sleeves that were frankly useless to her. They'd get caught in things, she just knew it. And the fucking ribbon? The stockings? No.
No, no, no, no, no.
"Ain't gonna," she said stubbornly, then stood up out of the chair, storming around behind it to get further away from the horror in the cupboard. "That thing's fuckin' stupid. I got pants on. That's better."
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 03-31-2017
"Your job," he reminded her, "is to sit quietly, and work. You are not intended to be performing feats of athleticism. It is a perfectly practical uniform for the job you're here to do."
There were not actually many women in this department, as a percentage. Most of them were older, or larger, or stranger. They looked appropriately secretarial.
There were also, in fact, options for uniforms with pants. But this uniform was chosen for a reason. It was not an outfit conducive to jumping out windows or climbing up walls. That made it perfect for her.
He hadn't chosen it, any more than he'd chosen her, but he respected the logic. Even if he didn't appreciate being the person to enforce it.
He moved the chair aside, and took a step closer to her. "You will put it on, or I will put it on you. I don't think you'd care for that very much. Save yourself the trouble, and change."
There were not actually many women in this department, as a percentage. Most of them were older, or larger, or stranger. They looked appropriately secretarial.
There were also, in fact, options for uniforms with pants. But this uniform was chosen for a reason. It was not an outfit conducive to jumping out windows or climbing up walls. That made it perfect for her.
He hadn't chosen it, any more than he'd chosen her, but he respected the logic. Even if he didn't appreciate being the person to enforce it.
He moved the chair aside, and took a step closer to her. "You will put it on, or I will put it on you. I don't think you'd care for that very much. Save yourself the trouble, and change."
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-31-2017
"I don't have a job," she said snottily, mocking his tone. "That implies bein' hired. No one hired me, ya know how I know? No one would be fuckin' stupid enough to hire me into a job that required sittin' quietly." It seemed fair enough to her. She was terrible at sitting quietly. No one could be good at everything. People had flaws. This one was hers. It was a comparatively minor flaw, compared to having an entire fucking tree lodged firmly up one's ass.
At his challenge, or perhaps his threat, her eyes flared angrily. "Oy, you will, huh? I don't fuckin' see how, seein' as how I'm already nice 'n' dressed, and we already learned how much faster I can move than you." Ah, yes. The Rafters Incident.
Pity he didn't have wings, ha.
Of course, this was a small, underground room with no windows, and he had superior reach by a long shot. But it had a door. And a high ceiling, because nothing else would work for someone that tall. She could work something out. And she was already putting distance between them, because if he made a move for her, she was going to bolt.
No way was she putting that stupid fucking dress on.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 03-31-2017
Gareth could not possibly argue with her complete lack of fitness for the job she'd been given. She had the potential to be useful, but if there was a trick to unlocking it, he hadn't found it.
"What we learned," he said, moving toward her and then chasing after her, "was not to give you a convenient escape route."
On the ground, at least, he was capable of being twice as fast as she was through sheer length of leg. When she climbed, he had a head start catching her. It was only that she liked to run, and he very much didn't. He considered it beneath him. Because it was.
This time, he wouldn't have to run. She'd done what she was supposed to do, and she'd gone straight for the door. The door that he'd locked. Delaying her just enough that he could grab her before she could bolt away from it, hooking his fingers into one of her unnecessary belts and yanking her back toward him. He put his arm around her waist, and lifted her feet entirely off the ground.
"I am going to ask – again – that you put your uniform on. You will wear it, and I won't ask again."
Maybe being lifted bodily off the ground would draw her attention to how woefully ill-equipped she was to be arguing with him.
"What we learned," he said, moving toward her and then chasing after her, "was not to give you a convenient escape route."
On the ground, at least, he was capable of being twice as fast as she was through sheer length of leg. When she climbed, he had a head start catching her. It was only that she liked to run, and he very much didn't. He considered it beneath him. Because it was.
This time, he wouldn't have to run. She'd done what she was supposed to do, and she'd gone straight for the door. The door that he'd locked. Delaying her just enough that he could grab her before she could bolt away from it, hooking his fingers into one of her unnecessary belts and yanking her back toward him. He put his arm around her waist, and lifted her feet entirely off the ground.
"I am going to ask – again – that you put your uniform on. You will wear it, and I won't ask again."
Maybe being lifted bodily off the ground would draw her attention to how woefully ill-equipped she was to be arguing with him.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-31-2017
She bolted the second he started moving, zigzagging around to get to the door. She was very small and very wiggly, and always used it to her advantage. If she wanted to, she could probably dart between his legs. It was inevitable, but she didn't really want to give him a chance to kick her, so she hadn't yet. She easily beat him to the door, of course, but that's where her planned stalled a bit, because it was extremely locked. "Oy!" she yelled, pulling on it. "I don't think you're allowed to lock yourself in a room with meee--OOF."
She was yanked back, unexpectedly, by one of her belts. She tried to elbow him, at which point he picked her up bodily by the waist. "Hey! This is workplace harassment this is!" she shouted. "Put me down, you fuckin' lizard!" She kicked back as solidly as she could, aiming heavy boots towards whatever parts of him they could reach. She could probably nail him in the nards if she really tried.
At the same time, she squirmed wildly in the grip. She was very flexible and ridiculously good at squeezing in and out of tight spaces, so she suspected she could probably wiggle out of his grip if she tried hard enough.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 03-31-2017
He grunted as much in irritation as pain when she jabbed and kicked at him, trying to hold onto her tight enough to keep her from escaping.
Rude, obnoxious little criminal.
"I," he informed her, "am well within my rights to discipline you as I see fit." He managed, with some difficulty and despite her squirming, to get the belt around her corset undone. He tried, with mixed success, to get his arm around her arms so that they'd be pinned to her sides. "You will recall that this job is also punishment – the fact that you were saved from a death sentence does not change the fact that you broke the law." He worked at getting her corset undone, which he was better at than he had any right to be.
"If you're not enjoying yourself, it's because you aren't supposed to be, which is nonetheless better than being dead."
Rude, obnoxious little criminal.
"I," he informed her, "am well within my rights to discipline you as I see fit." He managed, with some difficulty and despite her squirming, to get the belt around her corset undone. He tried, with mixed success, to get his arm around her arms so that they'd be pinned to her sides. "You will recall that this job is also punishment – the fact that you were saved from a death sentence does not change the fact that you broke the law." He worked at getting her corset undone, which he was better at than he had any right to be.
"If you're not enjoying yourself, it's because you aren't supposed to be, which is nonetheless better than being dead."
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 03-31-2017
She kept kicking him, increasing in force until she was basically slamming her heel against him repeatedly, swinging her whole body into it once she realized he had too much of a grip on her clothing for her to slip out. "That trial was a fuckin' sham! It was all bullshit! Yer asshole boss just wanted me for them-fuckin-selves so they gave me all these trumped up charges! I can't be held responsible if a bunch o' rats bring me shit, anyway! How was I supposed to know it was stolen?! Rats had it!" She swung her head back to sort of reverse-headbutt him, but she mostly succeeded in just making herself dizzy. "And I didn't kill no one! S'not my fault if yer damn city burns way too easily! Shoddy fire-proofing! Wasn't my fault!"
"Oy! You motherfucker, are you strippin' me? You fuckin' pervert, lockin' me in a room and then takin' off my clothes! This is workplace sexual harassment or some shit! Goddamnit, how do you even know how to take one of those off?! You wear 'em in your downtime, sparkles?" Because sure enough, he had her corset completely undone. Her dark grey top billowed open more without it, hanging loose around her chest. From where he was above her, he could no doubt see her underclothes, though she didn't give it too much thought. Because he'd taken off the belt she was wearing, which meant--
With a fierce, full body writhe, she slid out of his grip like a greased pig, sliding out of the half-open corset. He was so much taller than her than she didn't even have to slide onto the floor to escape his grip. She landed with her feet on the ground and took off. Of course, there wasn't really anywhere to go, but she managed to give the door a really solid kick.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017
The mouth on this girl. That was the worst part, her mouth. She was too small to be able to make that much noise. Her accent could strip paint and she needed a bar of soap in her mouth. It'd serve her right if he did it, too.
He tried to focus on the task at hand. Clothes. If he–
He didn't want to actually strip her, was the thing. Then she'd just be naked. Even temporarily. He was certainly allowed, what with the nature of their respective positions in both society at large and the King's Guard specifically. No one would fault him a drastic measure, this once. But regardless of how low she already was, he had no desire to sink to that particular level.
He threw her corset aside, and caught her again, this time by the wrist. It wasn't a perfect solution, but at this point he just needed her to not get away. If she ended up dislocating her arm as he dragged her back toward the cupboard, that was her problem.
"I asked you, repeatedly, to do this yourself. I warned you that you wouldn't like it if I did it. Yet here we are, with you, continuing to refuse to take responsibility for your own actions." He pulled the dress down off the hangar with his other hand.
He tried to focus on the task at hand. Clothes. If he–
He didn't want to actually strip her, was the thing. Then she'd just be naked. Even temporarily. He was certainly allowed, what with the nature of their respective positions in both society at large and the King's Guard specifically. No one would fault him a drastic measure, this once. But regardless of how low she already was, he had no desire to sink to that particular level.
He threw her corset aside, and caught her again, this time by the wrist. It wasn't a perfect solution, but at this point he just needed her to not get away. If she ended up dislocating her arm as he dragged her back toward the cupboard, that was her problem.
"I asked you, repeatedly, to do this yourself. I warned you that you wouldn't like it if I did it. Yet here we are, with you, continuing to refuse to take responsibility for your own actions." He pulled the dress down off the hangar with his other hand.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-01-2017
He caught her wrist, about the time she was trying to kick down a door and having very limited success. She was at least doing some damage. It probably wouldn't close right anymore. Might sit crooked. "Ow! Ow FUCK!" she yelled as he dragged her backwards by her arm. Motherfucker was strong, and what did he use it for? This! That made her as frustrated as anything. He could have been so good. It was such a waste!
"My actions?!" She kicked angrily at his shins. "Not followin' a shitty order is not an action, it ain't a choice. You fuckin' bigwig tightwads just tell yourselves it is! Oh, sign up for our secret army or we kill you! Oh, wear a dress or I make you wear a dress! Oh, we're gonna outlaw the good fuel, but don't steal it! Buncha bullshit! You're damn right if you want me in that stupid ugly-ass dress you're gonna have to do it yourself! I mean, how'd you like it if I told you what to wear, huh?! How'd you like it if I grabbed you and mussed you up?!" To emphasize her point, she grabbed the tail he left trailing into his pocket like a watch chain, and yanked it out, shaking it at him. "Fuckin' sucks, right?!"
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017
"You gave up good choices," he said, "when you endangered lives for an unnecessary pet project. I–"
She yanked on his tail. He stiffened, and gripped her arm tighter, and his tail pulled away from her touch. He reddened – both in the way that people usually reddened, and in the way that his eyes burned like twin embers from their usual charcoal. His lip curled in a snarl, and he pulled her closer just so that he could roar furiously at her, fangs right in her face.
It faded to a growl, eyes dimming, but his anger had not passed when he unceremoniously pulled the dress over her head. He let her go just so that he could yank it down hard, ensuring it was on her. Trapping her arms, at least for the moment, some of the seams straining from the unintended method of wear.
The fastest way to get her arms free would be to pull them up and out through the sleeves. And in the meantime, he pulled her closer with the loose ribbon around the collar so that he could tie it shut with a bow. His tail lashed with indignation behind him.
She yanked on his tail. He stiffened, and gripped her arm tighter, and his tail pulled away from her touch. He reddened – both in the way that people usually reddened, and in the way that his eyes burned like twin embers from their usual charcoal. His lip curled in a snarl, and he pulled her closer just so that he could roar furiously at her, fangs right in her face.
It faded to a growl, eyes dimming, but his anger had not passed when he unceremoniously pulled the dress over her head. He let her go just so that he could yank it down hard, ensuring it was on her. Trapping her arms, at least for the moment, some of the seams straining from the unintended method of wear.
The fastest way to get her arms free would be to pull them up and out through the sleeves. And in the meantime, he pulled her closer with the loose ribbon around the collar so that he could tie it shut with a bow. His tail lashed with indignation behind him.