Beg Pardon [Closed] - Printable Version
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RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-02-2017
He froze. He swallowed, hard.
Good. This was good. This was what was supposed to happen.
He fixed her skirt, draped it back down and resisted the temptation to smooth it down. That wasn't the point of this. She'd surrendered, and that meant he wouldn't touch her anymore.
His eyes still had a faint glow like dying embers.
"Thank you," he said hoarsely, moving slowly in order to carefully unbuckle the belt around her face. The belt that he had put around her face. "I'm sorry that I had to do that," he said, pulling leather free of her teeth. He didn't pull it off her completely, just lowering instead so that she'd be free to speak. "I didn't…"
He sighed.
An optimist, not an idiot.
"Tell me what your job is, and confirm for me that you're going to do it." Because anyone could raise a few fingers to make a beating stop. If she could at least lie to him about her willingness to do what she was supposed to, even that would be something.
Good. This was good. This was what was supposed to happen.
He fixed her skirt, draped it back down and resisted the temptation to smooth it down. That wasn't the point of this. She'd surrendered, and that meant he wouldn't touch her anymore.
His eyes still had a faint glow like dying embers.
"Thank you," he said hoarsely, moving slowly in order to carefully unbuckle the belt around her face. The belt that he had put around her face. "I'm sorry that I had to do that," he said, pulling leather free of her teeth. He didn't pull it off her completely, just lowering instead so that she'd be free to speak. "I didn't…"
He sighed.
An optimist, not an idiot.
"Tell me what your job is, and confirm for me that you're going to do it." Because anyone could raise a few fingers to make a beating stop. If she could at least lie to him about her willingness to do what she was supposed to, even that would be something.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-02-2017
She was not, as it turned out, even willing to at least lie to him about her willingness to do what she was supposed to do. "Fuck you," she hissed. "Do you really think you can just beat me until I give up you fucking goddamn piece of shit. I can take more abuse than you're even capable of dishing out; you think I can't see that guilt? I swear to god I'm going to fill your entire room with rats, just, fucking rats, wall to wall, shitting on your stuff, chewing up your stupid tight-wad bullshit uniforms that you love sooooo much. So fuck you, fuck this place, fuck your demon-whore mother, and fuck your goddamn authoritarian bullshit."
She was probably about to get backhanded, tied back up, and get seven shades of tar beat out of her.
But she felt better, you know, being able to tell him how she felt. It was good to communicate. Good to talk about your feelings 'n' shit.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-02-2017
Well.
That hadn't even lasted a goddamn minute, had it.
His eyes flared bright again, but he remained perfectly still and silent. He was thinking. Not about the specifics of what she'd said, because he put those into a mental zone of blind rage that was better left at 'infuriating' without deeper analysis. He was thinking, instead, about how to manage this feeling into something he could use to manage her. Because this wasn't working, either. It just fed her persecution complex. He was not remotely convinced that she could take even half as much as he was capable of dishing out, but she'd end up hurting herself trying. Then, just like she said, he'd feel guilty.
But what if.
All at once a plan appeared fully-formed in his mind, if it could even be called a plan. More like a series of actions that his body undertook without any input from his brain at all, because if he thought about it in earnest he'd be horrified at himself. Instead he compartmentalized completely.
He picked her up. It wasn't difficult. He carried her to the charred workbench that she had so completely refused to use properly, and bent her over it with enough force to knock the wind out of her. He grabbed the loose end of the belt that had been around her mouth and was now around her neck, and pulled – but not tight. He didn't have to. Just enough that he could grab a hammer, and literally nail it down. Leaving her stuck there, bent over and barely balanced on her heels, unable to escape without choking herself.
He was behind her, and he leaned down, grabbed a fistful of her hair and tilted her head back. "The word," he snarled in her ear, "is succubus."
And his other hand went up her dress, was forced between her legs so that he could stroke her clit with one finger.
That hadn't even lasted a goddamn minute, had it.
His eyes flared bright again, but he remained perfectly still and silent. He was thinking. Not about the specifics of what she'd said, because he put those into a mental zone of blind rage that was better left at 'infuriating' without deeper analysis. He was thinking, instead, about how to manage this feeling into something he could use to manage her. Because this wasn't working, either. It just fed her persecution complex. He was not remotely convinced that she could take even half as much as he was capable of dishing out, but she'd end up hurting herself trying. Then, just like she said, he'd feel guilty.
But what if.
All at once a plan appeared fully-formed in his mind, if it could even be called a plan. More like a series of actions that his body undertook without any input from his brain at all, because if he thought about it in earnest he'd be horrified at himself. Instead he compartmentalized completely.
He picked her up. It wasn't difficult. He carried her to the charred workbench that she had so completely refused to use properly, and bent her over it with enough force to knock the wind out of her. He grabbed the loose end of the belt that had been around her mouth and was now around her neck, and pulled – but not tight. He didn't have to. Just enough that he could grab a hammer, and literally nail it down. Leaving her stuck there, bent over and barely balanced on her heels, unable to escape without choking herself.
He was behind her, and he leaned down, grabbed a fistful of her hair and tilted her head back. "The word," he snarled in her ear, "is succubus."
And his other hand went up her dress, was forced between her legs so that he could stroke her clit with one finger.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-02-2017
The yelling and swearing and general threats continued as he picked her up, despite the fact his eyes were burning and he was being scary and strong again. She was that angry, that pissed off at her life and this entire stupid situation. That stopped when he slammed her into the table; she lost the ability to breathe entirely, and the ability to talk was kind of included in that package. He pulled the belt around her neck, and for a brief moment of blind terror, she thought he was going to finish the noose's job right then and there. He could, and he might not even get in trouble. No one really gave a shit about what happened to her. That's why he could get away with this crap.
Instead, he literally nailed the end of the belt to the table. With, she noted, a single swing of the hammer. Alarming.
Also. She had meant his mother had fucked a demon. Not. Not, uh, that. She had not known his mother was a succubus. That was a very apt insult, she supposed, thinking about it. She would have been retroactively proud of her own clever tongue if not for the implications of this factoid that were hitting her.
Was... that sort of thing... genetic?
She let out a sudden, choked cry when he reached up her dress, forced his hand between her clenched thighs. It was choked because she tried to jolt away, resulting in the sudden tightening of the belt. She immediately bounced back closer to where it was nailed down, so that she could at least breathe. The belt didn't really loosen on its own, but she could inhale, at least.
While he fingered her clit.
She was having serious trouble keeping up with this. She let out a low groan at the force of his ministrations, head spinning, both from confusion and, probably, that concussion. "Wh-what are you doing?" she gasped. It was a stupid fucking question; it was pretty obvious what he was doing.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-02-2017
He ignored the question.
He had no idea what the fuck he was doing.
"You're a mess," he observed instead, his fingers sliding easily along her skin, well-lubricated with what could only be intense arousal on her part. He slid his thumb inside her to emphasize the point, two fingers pressing against either side of her clit and rubbing. "Were you getting off on that?" he asked. "Is that what this has been about? Have you been deliberately trying to piss me off because it gets you wet?" His fingers stroked her inside and out, enjoying the way she tightened around his thumb and her thighs gripped his forearm.
"If you were trying to get laid, you should have put your uniform on," he said. "You look cute like this." His other hand tousled her hair, deliberately leaving her disheveled in ways she didn't have the hands to fix.
He had no idea what the fuck he was doing.
"You're a mess," he observed instead, his fingers sliding easily along her skin, well-lubricated with what could only be intense arousal on her part. He slid his thumb inside her to emphasize the point, two fingers pressing against either side of her clit and rubbing. "Were you getting off on that?" he asked. "Is that what this has been about? Have you been deliberately trying to piss me off because it gets you wet?" His fingers stroked her inside and out, enjoying the way she tightened around his thumb and her thighs gripped his forearm.
"If you were trying to get laid, you should have put your uniform on," he said. "You look cute like this." His other hand tousled her hair, deliberately leaving her disheveled in ways she didn't have the hands to fix.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-02-2017
What. What was happening here.
Ren was completely lost, confused at how she was supposed to be reacting. This was... bad, right? Was she being assaulted, right now? His fingers on her made her squirm in a way that was definitely not pain, and she gasped out when he pushed a thumb inside her.
He was right. She hadn't even realized it, but she was soaked.
"F-fuck you," she managed, the force of her previous expletives not really behind it. But he was humiliating her, mocking her, and she knew how to react to that. "Y-you're the one who g-gets off on this shit, p-pervert." Kind of empty words when she could hear the slicking noises his fingers were making inside and against her.
She grit her teeth. She had no interest in looking cute, least of all for him. This sort of tomfoolery was exactly why she wore pants.
His thumb was remarkably thick, given that it was just a thumb.
She was not going to writhe against his hand. She refused. She was going to lay here, perfectly still, not choking to death. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth to try and silence the gasps and groans that kept wanting to leak out. She laid her head down against the bench, which she wished were colder and less burnt in general. She was getting ash and charcoal on her face, black smears as he rocked her back and forth with his hand.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-02-2017
"I thought it was strange, before," he said, watching her struggle in the limited capacity she was able while he fingered her. "I was being perfectly professional, and you kept calling me a pervert. I should have known it was wishful thinking."
His thumb slipped out of her, replaced by his middle and ring finger, his index finger outside of her to continue stroking her clit.
"Oh, now you're going to shut up? Where'd all that big talk go? About how much you can take?" He emphasized the point by thrusting his fingers hard into her, moving her entire body with the force of it. "Your cunt's louder than you are. You haven't even been wearing that uniform for five minutes, and already you're filthy."
He was hard as a fucking rock, but he kept that to himself. His fingers worked, thrust and stroked and curled, until the tension in her muscles and the way she breathed suggested she was close. Then he pulled out and away from her, and his other hand came down to smack her ass again. He licked the taste of her off his fingers, growled as it coated his tongue.
God, she tasted good.
His thumb slipped out of her, replaced by his middle and ring finger, his index finger outside of her to continue stroking her clit.
"Oh, now you're going to shut up? Where'd all that big talk go? About how much you can take?" He emphasized the point by thrusting his fingers hard into her, moving her entire body with the force of it. "Your cunt's louder than you are. You haven't even been wearing that uniform for five minutes, and already you're filthy."
He was hard as a fucking rock, but he kept that to himself. His fingers worked, thrust and stroked and curled, until the tension in her muscles and the way she breathed suggested she was close. Then he pulled out and away from her, and his other hand came down to smack her ass again. He licked the taste of her off his fingers, growled as it coated his tongue.
God, she tasted good.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-02-2017
"P-professional?!" she exclaimed, outrage momentarily distracting her. "In what world is stripping a girl and dragging her around and spanking her professional?" She grit her teeth as he slid two fingers inside her, spreading her open. His taunting pushed her over the edge, back into brat-ville, no matter how she was feeling about his fingers inside of her and on her clit and his deep voice and burning eyes. "Oh, I get it," she said through gritted teeth. "It's what your whore mum did for a job, so now you think this is professional."
She wasn't clenching around his fingers, wasn't biting back moans, definitely wasn't reaching another sort of edge. And then he pulled his fingers out of her and smacked her on the ass, and she let out a shocked wail of pain. Her legs trembled wildly; she was having trouble keeping balance in heels that barely touched the ground.
She heard him growl, and shivered. God damnit. She wasn't enjoying this! He was doing it for the wrong reasons, she was sure of it, doing it because he had a hard-on for the system, not because he was strong and wanted her. Which, to her, was a much more valid reason for this sort of behavior. He was perverting perversion, by getting all mixed up in his law-n-order boner.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-02-2017
He smacked her ass again, this time hard, harder than he should have. "Two weeks," he snarled, grabbing a fistful of her hair again. "Two fucking weeks I tried to put up with your bullshit. I tried being strict," and he spanked her, "I tried being nice," and he spanked her, "and I am at the end of my fucking rope trying to keep you from the end of a fucking rope." He let her go with a snarl, but he didn't strike her again.
He stepped away from her, left her stuck there, strapped to the table and exposed as he paced irritably, tail lashing all the while. "You've got a death wish? You'd rather be dead than play nice? Fine! Fine. You can wait there, like that, until someone who hasn't had it up to here with you comes and finds you to take you away. You'd like that, wouldn't you, nothing but rats to keep you company once you've bled out in a ditch."
He growled and snarled and turned on his heel, came up behind her and forced his hand between her legs again. His fingers pushed hard inside of her, his other hand on her hip as he started to work her again.
He stepped away from her, left her stuck there, strapped to the table and exposed as he paced irritably, tail lashing all the while. "You've got a death wish? You'd rather be dead than play nice? Fine! Fine. You can wait there, like that, until someone who hasn't had it up to here with you comes and finds you to take you away. You'd like that, wouldn't you, nothing but rats to keep you company once you've bled out in a ditch."
He growled and snarled and turned on his heel, came up behind her and forced his hand between her legs again. His fingers pushed hard inside of her, his other hand on her hip as he started to work her again.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-02-2017
She cried out when he hit her, time and time again. She had sincerest disagreements that he'd ever tried to be nice, but she had no time to voice them in the middle of his onslaught. She was pretty sure it shouldn't feel good, the way he pulled her hair. Especially not when he pulled her head back far enough that she could see his eyes, like twin infernos. He wasn't doing it like a sexual thing. Or was he? It was getting extremely hard to tell. He had been fingering her, now he was smacking her again. Had it been sexual the whole time? His next words, however, struck a chill in her. Her legs began to shake in earnest, though it could have easily been mistaken with being tired, which they were very much also. "I-I-I."
He made a lot of very angry noises and then he was on her again, his hand between her legs, his hand roughly inside her. "I don't deserve to die!" she burst out, sounding genuinely upset--probably the most genuinely anything other than pissed off she'd sounded in two weeks. "Fuck you, it was an accident! "
It was a very weird protest to make when he was knuckles deep in her cunt, admittedly, but it seemed a pressing issue to her. She hadn't meant for anyone to die. She hadn't even meant for anyone to get hurt. It had all seemed like one rational decision after the next. The fuel she needed had been made illegal for commoners. She would locate some through the black market and steal it. She hadn't known there was something wrong with it; she hadn't known there would be a fire that big.
She'd even tried to help. But everyone panicked more when they saw rats. Ran into the fire instead of away, made it worse, jumped in the river.
"It was an accident," she repeated, groaning, clenching around his fingers. And for that, she was supposed to die, wind up dead in a ditch exactly like he said. Or slave away here being condescended to and forced to do god only knew what. Her tools taken away, her rats taken away, treated like a petulant child at every turn.
Ironically, this was the most like a grown woman she'd been treated since she'd been here, and that was just because one hopefully did not bury their fingers in anyone other than an adult.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-02-2017
Maybe he'd realized somewhere deep down that he needed to find a way to offer her the carrot and the stick simultaneously. Maybe he'd realized that what she needed was to feel truly vulnerable in a palpable way. Maybe this was exactly what he'd been trying to accomplish.
Maybe he was an idiot that panicked and tried to fuck things when he didn't know what else to do with them.
Whatever. It worked, at least. It seemed like it worked. She seemed upset and confused and there were plenty of reasons for both, but maybe he'd finally found part of the disconnect between everything he said and what she seemed to hear. He leaned over her, close to her, putting his hand under her chin to cup her face. His thumb stroked her jaw.
"It was an accident," he repeated, "that wouldn't have happened if you had just followed the rules." His fingers curled and stroked inside of her, gentler than he'd been, but more persistent. "That is why rules exist. When you follow them, we believe you when you say bad things aren't your fault, because the rules are supposed to stop bad things from happening." His index finger stroked her clit. "They are not arbitrary. They are not fun. They are there to keep people safe. You are alive because someone thinks you can learn to behave. If you won't even try, why would we ever believe you can be safe? How am I supposed to to keep you safe?"
Maybe he was an idiot that panicked and tried to fuck things when he didn't know what else to do with them.
Whatever. It worked, at least. It seemed like it worked. She seemed upset and confused and there were plenty of reasons for both, but maybe he'd finally found part of the disconnect between everything he said and what she seemed to hear. He leaned over her, close to her, putting his hand under her chin to cup her face. His thumb stroked her jaw.
"It was an accident," he repeated, "that wouldn't have happened if you had just followed the rules." His fingers curled and stroked inside of her, gentler than he'd been, but more persistent. "That is why rules exist. When you follow them, we believe you when you say bad things aren't your fault, because the rules are supposed to stop bad things from happening." His index finger stroked her clit. "They are not arbitrary. They are not fun. They are there to keep people safe. You are alive because someone thinks you can learn to behave. If you won't even try, why would we ever believe you can be safe? How am I supposed to to keep you safe?"
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-02-2017
"Th-at's stu-pid," she managed, voice breaking into moans in the middle of her words, because he was curling his fingers inside of her and it was still feeling good. These were. Subpar conversation conditions. She was not pleased with these conditions. She was also not pleased with the way he was rubbing against her clit, bringing her close, again, to the edge she'd nearly fallen off before. "I-I-I," she panted, trying to pretend she wasn't standing with ass in the air, with his fingers stroking inside her. "Th-that law w-was st-stupid, w-wasn't t-to kee-eee-eep!" she moaned. This was a nuanced conversation about the benefits of regulation versus anarchy, goddamnit, the points where government ceased to protect the people and served to inforce the arbitrary lines between classes!
She couldn't have this conversation while being fingerfucked! A woman had limits! Her back was kind of stuck arching anyway due to the nature of how awkward this pose was for her, but her fingers were clawing against the table, ash beneath her fingernails.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-02-2017
"That law," he said patiently, "if you'd followed it, would have saved lives. No one would be hurt, and you wouldn't be here right now."
She was a lot easier to talk to this way. Probably not a widely applicable management technique, but good to know.
"If you don't want to behave, then you need to accept the consequences. People will get hurt, and you will get hurt. If you don't want that, then you need to make an effort. Wear your uniform so I believe that you're trying. Do what you're told when I tell you to do things. Earn back the privilege of doing what you'd like with your free time by proving you won't just blow people up again. If you're not going to do that, then tell me now, so I can stop wasting my time."
He ran his fingers through her hair, better able to see the flush of her face and the shape of her mouth. He twisted his wrist and turned his fingers inside her so that he could curl them properly, fingertips applying pressure at the spot behind her clit. She was so pretty like this. He was sure she'd find a way to ruin it, but he'd enjoy it while it lasted.
She was a lot easier to talk to this way. Probably not a widely applicable management technique, but good to know.
"If you don't want to behave, then you need to accept the consequences. People will get hurt, and you will get hurt. If you don't want that, then you need to make an effort. Wear your uniform so I believe that you're trying. Do what you're told when I tell you to do things. Earn back the privilege of doing what you'd like with your free time by proving you won't just blow people up again. If you're not going to do that, then tell me now, so I can stop wasting my time."
He ran his fingers through her hair, better able to see the flush of her face and the shape of her mouth. He twisted his wrist and turned his fingers inside her so that he could curl them properly, fingertips applying pressure at the spot behind her clit. She was so pretty like this. He was sure she'd find a way to ruin it, but he'd enjoy it while it lasted.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - SolitareLee - 04-02-2017
"Th-at's a-a-ah co-in-ci-de-eh-enceeee," her voice trailed off into a whine at the end as she sort of gave up on making coherent noises. She switched entirely to moans, which were much less useful in general, but about all she could manage. It was bullshit; she knew why it was bullshit and she could definitely tell him why it was bullshit. Just. Not right now, because he wasn't playing fair. He pulled her hair back and she could see the glow of his eyes, subtler now, and the twist of his mouth, not quite a smirk and not quite a snarl, something in between.
He was twisting his fingers inside her and curling them and hitting her clit and something else and something and-- "Fuck, fuck, fuck, ah!" She clenched down wildly on him as she came, legs shaking, even afterwards as she struggled to remain standing.
Well.
That wasn't what she had expected to happen.
She panted against the table, giving herself a brief respite from mouthing off so she could focus on breathing instead. Then, dazedly, "That's a coincidence the law wasn't designed to keep somethin' potentially dangerous out of the hands of th' populace it was designed help enforce the boundaries between lower class an' the educated elite," she huffed out all in one breath, legs still trembling wildly.
RE: Beg Pardon [Closed] - Tindome - 04-02-2017
Making her orgasm made him feel significantly better, even though his frustration had just about peaked moments before. It had been building for a while, and he wasn't thrilled with himself for resorting to essentially threatening her life. He just wasn't sure what to do with someone who consistently refused to be reasoned with.
She was reasoning now, though. She was actually stringing together sentences that debated what he said, instead of just ignoring him and insulting his mother.
… maybe he was better with his hands than he thought.
He pulled his fingers out of her, licking them again. He was soaked to his wrist this time, and he lapped at the taste of her like a grooming cat.
"You might have a point," he said, "if you were here for stealing some treasure or trinket. But theft of private property carries a relatively light sentence. The laws you broke were theft of government property, theft of dangerous government secrets, reckless endangerment of a civilian populace, mayhem, arson, involuntary manslaughter, and unauthorized use of magic within city limits – which is the legal term for convincing rats to bring you things. I believe there was some argument about whether to also charge you with deliberate spreading of the plague, but you were already slated to hang. Regardless: those laws, specifically, are intended to keep people safe. The fact that you managed to break them all simultaneously suggests you are unfit to function in society, because you are a danger to everyone around you. Which isn't the educated elite – it's the poor bastards who can't afford to get away from you."
He was still hard. The smell of her was driving him crazy. This was becoming a problem he needed to deal with. Without breaking whatever it was that had coaxed her into communicating with him. He stepped backward until he was behind her, brushing his hair out of his face and trying to find some kind of blind spot. Somewhere that she wouldn't see the way he was watching her legs tremble, the sore skin of her ass and her pink cunt dripping all over her thighs. Somewhere she might not notice that he'd started stroking his cock through his trousers.
"Does that clarify anything?" he asked, calm and collected and not at all apparent that he wanted to bury himself inside her until she came for him again.
She was reasoning now, though. She was actually stringing together sentences that debated what he said, instead of just ignoring him and insulting his mother.
… maybe he was better with his hands than he thought.
He pulled his fingers out of her, licking them again. He was soaked to his wrist this time, and he lapped at the taste of her like a grooming cat.
"You might have a point," he said, "if you were here for stealing some treasure or trinket. But theft of private property carries a relatively light sentence. The laws you broke were theft of government property, theft of dangerous government secrets, reckless endangerment of a civilian populace, mayhem, arson, involuntary manslaughter, and unauthorized use of magic within city limits – which is the legal term for convincing rats to bring you things. I believe there was some argument about whether to also charge you with deliberate spreading of the plague, but you were already slated to hang. Regardless: those laws, specifically, are intended to keep people safe. The fact that you managed to break them all simultaneously suggests you are unfit to function in society, because you are a danger to everyone around you. Which isn't the educated elite – it's the poor bastards who can't afford to get away from you."
He was still hard. The smell of her was driving him crazy. This was becoming a problem he needed to deal with. Without breaking whatever it was that had coaxed her into communicating with him. He stepped backward until he was behind her, brushing his hair out of his face and trying to find some kind of blind spot. Somewhere that she wouldn't see the way he was watching her legs tremble, the sore skin of her ass and her pink cunt dripping all over her thighs. Somewhere she might not notice that he'd started stroking his cock through his trousers.
"Does that clarify anything?" he asked, calm and collected and not at all apparent that he wanted to bury himself inside her until she came for him again.