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Beg Pardon [Closed] - Printable Version

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RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-01-2017

She was delighted when he began to blush, but it was very short lived. His eyes lit up like live flame, which was just damn cool, but the rush of excitement was sort of lost when he yanked her closely and roared extremely loudly, directly in her face.

She had not known he did that.

She had also not known he had fangs. He didn't smile. How would she have known?

She was briefly stunned, eyes wide and ears ringing. That was more than enough time for him to yank the dress over her head, and her arms, and, in fact, her clothing in general. It was not comfortable in the least.

"O-oy," she managed, still not quite recovered from the shock when he grabbed the loose ribbon around her neck and pulled her towards him with it. She was a little distracted by the whole concept of roaring and fangs and glowy eyes and whatnot.

Damn.

He could have been so good.

It was him tying a bow around her neck like some sort of prize dog that snapped her out of it. She managed to get her arms through the sleeves with some difficulty, just in time to smack his hand away from her neck. She didn't bother holding back any strength, because she felt like they were certainly past that around the time he started manhandling her. She glared right back up at him, icy blue eyes furious in their own right.

"Get yer damn hands offa me! I ain't some fuckin' doll to dress up! Fuck, get yerself a girlfriend, Mr. Handsy!"


RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017

    Her brief daze had been a welcome respite, so of course it couldn't last.

    "Do I look like I want to be doing this?" he demanded. He bent at the knee while he half-pounced to grab both her wrists this time, just low enough to the ground that his tail could grab one of her discarded belts. His eyes still had a faint glow. "I asked you. Repeatedly. You didn't listen." He managed to get her spun around enough that he could use one hand to hold both her wrists. It wasn't enough to hold her for long, but it was long enough to get her belt around them. "You never listen," he said, tightening the leather. "I tried being nice! I tried." God, he'd tried. "You want me to send you back to the gallows?" he asked, fastening the buckle. "Fine. But first, we try this."

    He pulled on the loose end of the belt, and his boot pushed the backs of her knees just enough to make her fall. "Maybe," he said, his foot on her back to get her down onto her stomach, "if you can do something as utterly simple as wear a uniform, you can be at least as useful as a schoolchild."

    He knelt, and pressed his knee into her back so could grab her legs and work at getting her boots off of her. "Wouldn't that be a marvel, if you could be approximately as intelligent as a toddler instead of a belligerent corpse."



RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-01-2017

"We been over this, it ain't a choice if I--oof!" Goddamn, he could really man-handle when he wanted to. She gave a proper writhe, but he still managed to get her arms pinned and then, to her infinite indignation and rage, tighten something around them.

"Oy, you motherfucker, is that my belt? What, are we doin' bondage now? Yeah, I bet you're not enjoying it at a--OOOFF!" He kicked at the back of her knees, which she fell to, rather painfully against the hard floor. His commentary about the gallows had also been unwelcome. She was furious about the entire situation, but she also didn't want to die. If she was alive, for instance, she could perhaps escape. But this indignation was killing her. Calling her important work pet projects and making her wear dresses and read books like she didn't know what she was doing.

That he shoved her onto the ground and proceeded to kneel on her back did not help the feeling of indignation and humiliation. "Son of a bitch!" she yelled, mostly into the floor. "Get off of me! Get off of me, you pervy son of a whore! I'll show you a fuckin' belligerent corpse you fuckwad! Just wait til I get this fuckin' belt off!"

She couldn't actually kick his ass, but she could like... fill his bedroom with rats, probably. Definitely. She could definitely fill his bedroom with rats. Maybe then she would feel better about him tearing her good boots off, leaving her in just her leggings. Well, and a shirt and a dress, but still.


RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017

    "Shut. The fuck. Up. For five fucking minutes."

    Belts. She was still wearing more stupid belts, and he'd need to get them off her if he was going to get her into stockings. Which were not the most mandatory part of the uniform, but he'd started this, and he was going to finish it. He rolled her onto her back, practically sitting on her legs to keep her still.

    "I will shut you up. I think I have made it very clear that I do not bluff. For your own sake, stop talking."

    He wasn't even looking at her, not really, not as a person. As a series of isolated problems, belts and fabric and things that needed to be restrained and taken off and put on. When he was determined, he was driven. It was part of what made him so good at his job.

    And why he did not particularly consider the implications of reaching up her skirt to unbuckle the belt still around her hips. And then the other belt, around her thigh. He wasn't actually looking under her skirt, and was going instead by feel alone, raising an eyebrow when he pulled out a knife she should not have had strapped to her person.

    Her complaints, which had a uniquely valid basis under the circumstances, were ignored. She was the girl who cried pervert, and he was done humoring her.



RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-01-2017

It was actually sort of amusing to hear him swear. She would enjoy it more if the circumstances didn't involve her being hogtied. "Fuckin' make me you shithead, I'm so tired of your fuckin' imperialistic bullshit, you fuckin' goon, I swear to--OY!"

She wasn't that startled by his reaching up her skirt, because she was still wearing pants, but it was still quite rude. She fell briefly silent when he pulled her dagger out, though.

"...If you think about it, I coulda stabbed you this whole time and didn't," she reasoned, which was true, because she didn't really stab people. In self-defense, sure, which this arguably was, but still. It'd probably go pretty bad for her if she knifed her boss, or whatever. She had some self-preservation instincts. Just not a lot. "So really, I'm the fuckin' angel in this situation, demon-boy," she added, ruining her record for going 30 seconds without being a bitchy pain in the ass.


RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017

    "Fine. You want me to make you? I'll make you."

    He took a spare belt, and wrapped it around her head – though of course she had to turn it into a fucking challenge, nearly resulting in him strangling her. But he did, eventually, manage to get it looped around her face. More specifically, her mouth. He tightened it, the buckle resting against her cheek.

    "There. Happy? You could have just kept your mouth shut. Now you get this, instead. Enjoy it. Be grateful I'm not taking more serious measures, considering the knife you're not supposed to have."

    Belts and boots taken care of, and with her dress on, he could now safely remove her leggings. With a lot of pulling. And peeling. And dealing with all her goddamn struggling. He stopped before he'd pulled them off completely, in order to keep her ankles trapped. His eyes had finally faded back to black as he got his temper under control, but his tail was still moving in irritable S-shapes behind him. He stood, and stalked back to the cupboard to get the stockings and shoes he'd left there. Only when he had them in hand did he finally take her leggings off completely, so he could start to get them onto her.

    It finally started to occur to him that he was pulling a pair of stockings up onto pale and slender thighs. Which was. Something. But he tamped that thought down, a hard set to his jaw.

    When he put her shoes on her, pinning her legs and holding her ankles, a thought occurred to him. He ran the ankle strap of the second heel through the first, effectively binding her ankles together. Then he stood, and pulled her up off the ground, setting her down to balance precariously on two bound shoes.

    "There," he said, stepping away from her. He gestured to her outfit, which was a rumpled mess due to circumstances, but still far better than she'd been. "You could have just put that on. Then you'd be able to walk, and talk. And instead you're just going to have to stand there, like an asshole, until I feel like letting you go back to your room. All because you can't follow a simple order."



RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-01-2017

She was equal parts shocked and furious when he started wrapping the belt around her face. She struggled with the best of them, which of course, meant he damn near tightened it around her neck a few times before managing to get it in the right place. Mostly because she'd been screaming at him loud enough that dead queens could probably hear, and he got the belt lodged in her open mouth. It pressed tongue down against the bottom of her mouth, and all she could really do was screech. But screech she did, with great prejudice. She sounded like a furious, possibly rabid, wolverine. On speed.

This didn't change as he stripped her, which actually freaked her out more than she cared to admit. Especially considering she hadn't bothered wearing underwear, because leggings were basically just long underwear anyway. She didn't think he'd noticed, not even when he pulled stockings back onto her. She tried to kick him in the face a few times. She might have succeeded; she wasn't sure.

This was so humiliating. Particularly when he did something with her shoes that laced them together, meaning she was seriously hobbled. He pulled her back onto her feet and she teetered slightly as she struggled to get used to bound feet and bound arms.

She was fucking furious. She was wearing a stupid goddamn clown outfit, with no goddamn knickers, all because this demon fuckwad had a hard-on for order. Eyes glinting with fury she could no longer screech out with her words, she turned to her only possible recourse.

Violence.

She leapt into the air, like an angry fish, arching her body back and then forward. He was bending over slightly, the better to intimidate her, and she launched herself up surprisingly high for the circumstances. The result?

She smashed her head into his face.

There was no hope of her catching herself, not only was she gagged and bound, she was now extremely dizzy and possibly concussed. She just dropped onto the ground like a bag of potatoes. She still managed to roll over to watch his reaction to getting fish-flopped right in the goddamn face, though. Maybe she'd broken his nose. It'd serve him right, fuckin' asshole.


RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017

    His nose was sturdier than most. But it still hurt. More importantly, it bled. He ought to have been able to dodge it, but he absolutely hadn't expected it, not even from her. He roared at her again, blood dripping down his face, staining his teeth. His eyes were twin suns, and it seemed entirely plausible that he'd breathe fire.

    He didn't.

    He did, unthinkingly, grab her by the hair. He pulled her upward, to her knees and then higher, until he could essentially drape her over the back of her chair. It wasn't the strongest chair, so it might have tipped over, but he rested his foot on it to keep it upright, her legs not touching the ground. It put too much weight on her waist, it wasn't remotely sustainable, but he wasn't thinking. He was just mad.

    "That is," he said, "the dumbest, most childish thing you've done yet." He tried to wipe blood from his face onto his sleeve, then started to roll them up. "You want to act like a stubborn child? Fine." The belt that had been wrapped around her thigh didn't seem large enough, so he unbuckled his own. "I'll treat you like a child, then." He looped the belt in his hand, lifted her skirt, and cracked the leather across her skin.

    Her bare skin.

    Because she wasn't wearing anything beneath her skirt.



RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-01-2017

HOO BOY THAT HAD BEEN A HELL OF A THING.

Like, yeah, regrets, but also not regrets, because holy shit that thing with his eyes was as cool as it was terrifying and, on another level: hahahaha fuckin' asshole, she'd just headbutted a demon in the face. He was bleeding and everything it was awesome.

What? She was a multifaceted person. She could be terrified and gleeful at the same time.

Her glee was comparatively short lived, however. It ended about when he picked her up by her hair. She let out a shriek of pain, muffled by the belt, head still spinning with intense dizziness. He tossed her over something--the chair, she realized--and it knocked the breath clean out of her.

She wheezed, terribly dizzy, a pressure solidly on her solar plexus from the chair. She could barely even hear his threatening--she assumed he was threatening, it was what he did--through the pounding in her own ears.

Then, in one smooth motion, he yanked her skirt up and smacked her across the bare ass with something horrible and painful. This time her screech was a full blown scream, her body convulsing in alarm and pain. The chair rattled as she flailed, but his weight on it kept it from tipping over. She wriggled like a worm, trying to figure out how to roll off of it and get away.


RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017

    The situation with her ass hanging out was sort of a problem. Not as much of a problem as the issue with the chair, since she was going to end up hurting herself on the thing. Not in a deliberate, being-punished way, either. In an accidental way that was not productive to the point he was trying to make.

    His solution was to pick her up, and sit down, and put her in his lap.

    It was a perfectly acceptable position for punishing someone. This was fine. She was mostly dressed, and he was using a belt, and not looking at her ass. It was easier this way to hold her down against his thighs, harder for her to roll away.

    "When you've decided you're ready to behave, hold up two fingers," he said. Her hands and her mouth were bound, but she could still hold her fingers up. That was reasonable. And he was making it easy for her to surrender, and put a stop to this whole stupid thing.

    The belt hit her again. The sound was loud enough to echo in his ears. And again. And again. And again. Careful every time not to hit the same spot, because he wasn't trying to torture her, he really wasn't. He just didn't know what else to do with her. He was not equipped to deal with someone who refused, at every turn, to listen to reason.

    For now, he'd just get her to stop acting like such an unbelievable little shit all the goddamn time. Maybe then she'd realize how much easier it could be.



RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-01-2017

Ren was not intimately familiar with this form of corporal punishment. She had been an orphan, no parent to bend her over their knee. She knew of the concept, obviously, through general cultural osmosis, but this was very much her first personal experience.

It did not strike her as not being sort of vaguely sexual. Which was extremely confusing, because it was also very painful. But he picked her up, and sat down, and put her quite literally in his lap and she was suddenly possessed of the knowledge of what his lap felt like. She didn't know what to do with this knowledge. Fortunately, the belt was a frequent and painful distraction.

She'd heard his easy warning, about holding up two fingers, but she was never ready to behave and extremely stubborn. Nonetheless, her screeches reached a pained crescendo every time the belt landed in agonizing streaks against her ass and the backs of her legs. At some point, she stopped screaming in fury between blows, mostly because her throat was getting sore. There was no stopping her from screaming when the belt hit, though. Or at least loudly groaning. In pain, she was pretty sure. And writhing, both to try to escape and in general distress.

She was panting--in pain--mostly in pain--just in pain nothing else--and flushed--in pain--and the belt probably would always have teeth marks in it. Her screams had definitely turned to groans--not moans, that g was important to her. She was disheveled. If either of them could see it, they'd know her ass was extremely red. Her fingers, however, remained stubbornly in fists. If at any point he looked at her face, he would get nothing but a very angry glare for his trouble.

S-she could do this all day, buddy. Her ass was tougher than his whole body. Even if he was eight feet tall and made of demon. She was tough. Definitely.

She had sort of stopped struggling though, other than the obligatory full-body writhe every time he struck her.


RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017

    He was grateful when the screaming gave way to sounds less agonized; anger aside, that sort of thing… made him feel bad. About hitting a small, helpless woman.

    What the fuck was his life, all of a sudden.

    The new sounds she was making were a problem in different ways. Particularly in conjunction with the way her whole body would rock and buck in his lap. The way her back arched. The way she refused, stubbornly, to admit that she'd had enough. If he kept hitting her with the belt, he had concerns she'd end up bleeding. Her skin seemed delicate, however tough she pretended to be.

    He was just… going to make sure she was okay.

    He set the belt down, and adjusted her skirt to actually look at her. Her skin was an angry red, dark welts in lines that mapped to where the belt had struck her. He brushed his fingers very lightly along one of them, rested his hand along the soft curve above her thigh. Her skin was hot.

    Something stirred inside him that he tried to ignore.

    He growled, and brought his hand down hard, skin against skin.



RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-01-2017

She was relieved when there was a pause in the rythm of the strikes. Had she won? Maybe he'd given up. Maybe his arm was tired. Her ass sure as fuck had had enough, not that she was going to admit that. She tried very hard not to go limp against his lap in relief, because she didn't want to admit it had ever been that inconvenient to her, being bent over and belted on her bare ass.

Look, it made sense in her head.

She let out a loud cry of protest, however, when he pulled her skirt up, again very aware that she wasn't wearing underwear. She squeezed her legs together, as if she could hide herself. Her protests grew louder when she felt a hand on her ass. His hand was cool against her skin, her first awareness of how hot her skin was.

Okay, no matter what he told himself, this was straight up just copping a feel. She was going to headbutt him again. She couldn't, really, from the angle she was in. She tried to sort of bend her legs to kick at his hand, but couldn't get any real force behind it.

For her trouble, she got a bare-handed smack right against her ass.

She let out a displeased screech, jumping forward against his leg. She tried to kick off the ground, but he had her too well pinned to his lap. His hand felt very different from the belt, which seemed weird; being hit by one thing, you'd think, would be much the same as anything else. No such luck, it seemed. She let out another noise, more complaint and protest then scream. This was ridiculous. This was molestation, she was pretty goddamn sure. Not that anyone would really care, given how she was supposed to be dead, but still. It was the principle of the thing.


RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-01-2017

    He pinned her more forcefully into his lap as a consequence of her struggling, not wanting to risk that she'd fall to the floor.

    "You know how to make this stop," he reminded her. His voice was rougher than usual. He didn't know if he still wanted her to surrender. He wasn't sure what he wanted, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't get it. His hand came down on her ass again, stinging his palm, and it lingered there. He told her that was to let her get her bearings, or else to make the strikes themselves more effective through contrast.

    He was absolutely just enjoying the feel of cupping her ass in his hand while he still could.

    He took a deep breath, trying to center himself.

    He struck her again.

    "Just behave," he said, his voice strained, "so I can stop."

    He didn't want to stop. He wanted her to whimper and squirm and beg and–



RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-01-2017

She jumped again when he struck her, but didn't squirm as much. Because his hand was on her ass, and it was humiliating, and she didn't want to risk anything that would rub her against that touch.

She did, in fact, 'know how to make this stop.' But she didn't want him to give him the satisfaction. She wouldn't let him, let him... beat her into submission. How could she look herself in the mirror if she let someone take her over their knee and spank her ass like a willful child until she gave up and began to behave like an obedient one? She had pride, goddamnit, and lots of it. Her hands remained in stubborn fists as he struck her again.

She bit down into the belt as she jolted. Her body felt all tense and tightened, and she had no way to get it out. If she could fight, hit him, or even yell, she might feel better, but all of those things had been taken from her. But she couldn't just sit still. She struggled, vaguely, without much force behind it, face flushed, panting. She felt like she'd run a goddamn marathon, despite the fact all she'd done was lay here and get her ass beat. Oh, and all that activity and violent struggling, she supposed, plus headbutting him in the face.

He smacked her again. It was a bit too centralized for her tastes, and a little lower than could actually be called her ass. She shrieked in alarm and fury. This son of a WHORE! Of that was IT! She raised two fingers, but she had absolutely no intention of behaving. She just needed these fucking belts off. Let him enjoy that smug sensation of victory for five minutes. She was going to strangle him, and then they'd see who got to feel fucking smug.