Trigger Warning: I'm putting a blanket warning on this whole story as dark and disturbing. The plot deals with the subject of masochism both in its physical and psychological forms. It's not too graphic in terms of violence and abuse but they are definitely implied. Ample sex and borderline non-consent. If you decide to read, all I ask is that you put aside your moral prejudices to understand the deeper meaning. There is more to this story than the sexual and perverse. Please read at your own discretion.
Thou supersensual sensual woer
A woman leads you by the nose. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Chapter One: Bitch
Emma stared up at the woman pulling away from her. For a brief second there was fear and confliction written over the mayor's face, and just as soon as Emma noticed, the look was replaced with her usual expression of distaste and indifference. It was not the same as usual, though. Emma now knew it was all just a mask.
Regina stood and patted down the wrinkles in her suit. She combed strands of wild hair back to their original bob and ran a finger around the outside of her mouth, checking that her lipstick was in its proper place. It was all done deliberately and unceremonious, as if it was just another day at the office. Regina had achieved her objective. Her work there was done.
When breathing came easier the mayor gave the other woman a sidelong glance and a smirk. "A very productive meeting, Sheriff." She turned her back and started walking. "I hope you enjoyed the fresh air."
Watching the brunette swagger off, a half-naked Emma slumped back down in the dirt, heart racing and desire unsated.
What… a… bitch.
Those were the first words that entered Emma's mind when she woke up flushed and panting. It was not just a dream for she still remembered how delicate and practiced the mayor's hands felt.
Yet for as real as her hair standing on end it was a dream (a nightmare, really) where every time her eyes closed the mayor would lay mouth and hands on her body and electrify her with a thousand volts of sexual energy.
Fuck. That's exactly what Emma needed, a good fuck (from Regina, specifically) and the kind that didn't leave one high and dry like before, or rather, wet and unsated.
Emma wanted the real thing. She needed the woman under her, over her (any position really, Emma wasn't picky) in order to get that sweet release, that sensory explosion causing her toes to curl and her vocal chords to strain. She needed to be consumed by all things heard, felt, seen, and tasted. To breathe in sweat and release gasping sighs. To kiss and savor bared flesh. To feel the brushing of breasts against her own, the curve of a waist fit snuggly to hers. The heated current that had enraptured Emma that afternoon when she lay in the muck and the leaves had returned. It infused her skin and traveling down to unspoken territory.
With her first audible moan fingers met heat. A teased clit becoming afire with sensation. Emma responded to her own strokes, jerking and keening her way up the bed. With every brush and browse she came closer to her goal while unknowingly closing the gap between her head and a quaking headboard.
As good as the image of Regina was it did not come close to the real thing. In the days since that unfulfilled jaunt a proper orgasm could not be reached. Usually Emma could go a few days without one, but after the assault Regina had laid the idea of finishing what was started constantly ate away at her. Emma just couldn't damn well finalize a simple morning ritual, so what else could she blame it on but an inadequate imagination?
That was the beauty of the human imagination. She could fantasize about anyone – man or woman, an acquaintance or an imaginary lover that possessed all the right qualities. But who pops into that thick blonde head? Regina I Hope You Enjoyed the Fresh Air Mills. By god, Emma would be ashamed if she wasn't so turned on.
Though living out an ugly peach hue the bed comforter did nothing to deserve the brunt of frustration it was receiving. Emma's free hand grabbed at the material in tufts while heels dug mercilessly for leverage. Her head tilted back, allowing short breaths to come in gasps.
Emma.
"Yes… please…" she mewed, writhing with need.
Lines etched across her forehead as she overworked the fantasy… and her digits. A lip caught between her teeth, Emma surged upward so the heel of her palm ground into her clit. She lost all sense of where she was. The only thing she knew was the mayor, naked and beautiful, half-lidded eyes staring darkly into hers, pressing against her with each fingered thrust. Her arm, furiously working below, grew heavy from exertion. She ground her teeth for a moment and pushed on.
Emma knew the mayor could be a conniving, bitchy, and honest-to-god sadist, but to purposely cause such a performance issue was downright evil. If Henry wasn't a minor (or her son, for that matter) she would have sought his knowledge on the storybook and asked him if this were something the Evil Queen would be capable of. Who was Emma kidding? If Regina could undermine one of Emma's most prized skills than she was probably capable of walking on water or turning water into… apple cider.
If this bitch cast a spell on me, Emma thought angrily. Her mind could not seem to finish that threat.
Emma!
The sultry cry and the visual of the brunette riding above had Emma dripping for more. In fact, one more syllable uttered from the imaginary Regina and Emma was sure she could reach her climax and canter on the wave of a pleasure so within the realm of possibility.
"Regina," groaned Emma, her hand picking up its pace.
"Emma!"
There was brief knock followed by the opening of a door. Emma's hand whipped out of her pants. "Jesus!" She rolled a little too far off the bed and landed on the floor of her bedroom with a thud.
"Oh my!" cried Mary Margaret, covering her mouth. "Are you alright?"
"Ugh..."
"I didn't mean to startle you, Emma. I did knock," she added. Her roommate stayed slumped on the floor like dead weight. It looked to Mary Margaret like the woman was out of breath. Her hand slapped against her mouth again this time in realization. "… Oh."
"Did you need something, Mary Margaret?" Emma sat up. She diverted her gaze trying to hide her flushed cheeks, neck, and, well… her guilt. When there was no reply Emma huffed, "Take a picture. It'll last longer."
With a vigorous shake of the head Mary Margaret got back on track – sort of. "Breakfast. I made it. You can eat too – the breakfast I mean!" Her eyes continued to widen and Emma wondered if her brows would venture to the back of her head. "That's it then. I'm gonna go. So I'll leave you to it – to do whatever you need to do. Because there's nothing to be ashamed of. But it's not my business, so –"
"Thanks, Mary Margaret," Emma interrupted with a glare.
And with that the woman wearing a sweater buttoned from navel to neck gave a firm nod and left the room. She made sure to close the door behind her.
Emma collapsed on the floor with a sigh and placed the back of a hand on her forehead. So much for finishing what was started. She could no more recapture the essence of that night than she could grab hold of a raincloud.
The thing about fantasies… they're not real.
As luck would have it the mayor's assistant was absent, leaving Emma alone with the object of her desire. Any other day she would have knocked but today was no ordinary day. She couldn't sleep, couldn't get off, and had been embarrassed twice – once by a woman she loathed and again by her only friend. More importantly, she had skipped out on breakfast that morning. A low rumbling came from her abdomen as she hesitated at the door in question. Emma Swan was pissed and hungry, so a friendly knock before entering was the last thing on her mind.
"Sheriff unless you have an appointment or a death wish I suggest you retrace your steps and knock before barging in."
"Shut it!" snapped the blonde who stormed around the mayor's desk.
Unaccustomed to such insubordination Regina shot up from her chair and squared her shoulders like a true politician. "Miss Swan, you will leave at once!"
"No," replied Emma before placing vengeful lips on Regina's. It was just as good, if not better, than her dreams. Unfortunately, what she didn't want to become a reality was its short duration.
Regina went rigid and pushed. "Stop!" Unlike her deceased husband Emma did stop.
"I thought you wanted this." Emma's face fell, visibly wounded. "You were all over me before. What's stopping you now?"
"Decorum," Regina spat. Her surprise turned to disgust as she gave the sheriff a dissatisfied once over. "How dare you throw yourself at me. I am your superior!"
That only seemed to fuel the flames and further turn Emma on.
"This isn't the military."
Her arms snaked their way around the skirt clad waist, pulling the mayor in. Her lips found the testy mouth again in a fantasy induced kiss that was both obsessive and adoring.
"I said stop!"
It only took five seconds for the jolt of electricity to course through her veins. That was how long it took when you had your lips on the mayor and your hands around her body.
"No," breathed Emma, but she released the woman from her clutches. It only took a half a second for that charge to fizzle. She missed it as soon as her fingers let it slip away. She felt the hands thrust her back and Emma stumbled away.
"Do you really want me to go? Because I don't believe that for a second. Not after you jumped me in the goddamned woods." Her eyes narrowed into the brown ones staring wildly back. "I think you liked it more than you'd care to admit, Madame Mayor."
"Giving is different from receiving, Miss Swan." Regina smoothed down her blouse that got caught in their tousle.
"Yeah and they're both satisfying as hell," Emma shot back with a proud smirk. She couldn't help but covet the bare neck before her. Lips dove slowly to the captivating site. "Don't you want me to touch you? Doesn't this feel good?"
Regina sighed beneath undulating lips. She failed to hold in a moan when something wet found her furiously beating pulse.
"You need this," murmured pink lips on flesh. "I know you do."
Regina inhaled at the grazing mouth on her collarbone. The lips traced a v-pattern, marking flesh above bone, teasing her willpower into submission.
Desperate would be one word to describe Emma, but desperately passionate? It was not often that Regina stood on the receiving end of surprise. After all, she couldn't remember the last time someone panted after her like this. How long had it been? Twenty-eight years? Or more? Before the king took her off the market? And now that joy was being dusted off to fulfill her anew, the joy at seeing some poor soul feed into lustful fantasy.
But, apparently, Emma was more taken with the mayor than previously thought. At the risk of, well, everything Regina decided to let the game continue if only to see how far Emma's passion would go and how long it would hold out.
The way Emma pressed her lips faithfully to her desire and the tenderness with which she carried it out – it was all so nauseating. Once Regina felt the lazy sucking behind her ear she had had enough. Taking fistfuls of blonde hair she forced the woman's eyes on her.
"You want me?" she asked huskily.
Emma nodded.
Tucking a chin down, Regina bared her teeth into a smile, her darkening eyes piercing into Emma's. "Then take me."
It was fascinating to both how quickly clothes could be shed in a moment of passion. Though caught by spontaneity, it was like Regina's clothes were waiting to be stripped by Emma and Emma alone. The same was true for Emma. Any fingers that attempted to peel off those skinny jeans would have been met with five minutes of fumbling – unless those fingers belonged to Regina.
Emma pressed into the newly naked mayor. Her hands marveled at the firm areas and the supple ones too and the way every inch warmed to her touch. These sensations had been held back the first time they were together (Emma cringed at how the pantsuit had itched on her bare skin). For a brief moment she believed that if she could get the woman to shed her clothes then maybe she did hold some control this time around. In the meantime she pressed in, kissing and caressing, begging for more contact – contact that could withdraw at any cruel second.
Once Regina was spun around and bent over the desk she reared back until she met nothing but skin. Her hips were drawn to Emma's like a magnet. Regina's mind was a fuzzy mess. No thoughts of anger, fear, or revenge took up residence in the confines of that head. Sensation was all she knew then: Emma's breasts brushing against her back, lips pressed at the smooth plane, and teeth grazing along the bumps of her spine. Regina was all goose bumps and shivers under these light touches and she let it happen because there was nothing to stop two opposites from attracting.
Light touches turned desperate. It was the only thing that could result from the sweet sounds of the mayor responding from below. Gliding a finger over silky, wet lips Emma parted them ever so slightly but did not enter. It struck Emma as surprising how ready Regina was for her. Just minutes earlier they had been arguing and a few seconds of foreplay later Regina was nearly pouring desire. With a smirk Emma wondered if the mayor was always this turned on during their fights.
"Fuck," moaned Regina. Her hips moved urgently against the hand that remained cruelly immobile. She felt the smiling lips on her shoulder.
"Uh-huh," agreed Emma before she moved. Hips and fingers thrust home.
Regina gasped at the fingers stretching her. She clawed at the desk, searching blindly for something to hang on to. Her whole body practically convulsed when Emma expertly curled within her.
If Regina's secretary were not out on break he would have heard an earful. The deafening moans caused Emma's eyes to widen with both shock and pride. That she was capable of eliciting such sounds from the mayor puffed up her courage. Now knowing her skills were adequate and highly appreciated Emma began to press her luck slightly. Her free hand tangled in Regina's brown strands before pressing the head gently to the desk. Fingers still working the moans from the mayor, Emma began humping with abandon.
Emma threw her head back, blonde hair swinging like a pendulum. Her dry bottom lip caught between her teeth, biting hungrily. Regina pushed back suddenly meeting their hips again with a slap. The damp hair between Emma thighs painted the mayor's backside like a brush to canvas. She bit down hard to stifle a groan.
"Oh god…" Emma let out, feeling something hot and wet trickle down her cramping fingers. This definitely beat fantasy.
Their bodies surged forward and back, together and as one. The hand that had been tugging at the mayor's hair grasped her hip and Regina quickly covered the hand with her own. "Yes," she hissed seemingly forgetting the amount of control she had relinquished in this tryst.
"I'm not like you," Emma growled. She picked up her pace, burying a third finger. "I wouldn't leave you in the dirt… wouldn't stop what I had started… I'm not you," she repeated. Her lids slammed shut, trying to block out such an unfortunate yet pivotal event. No matter how shameful she had felt lying half-naked in the forest that day there was not a single regret had. Emma had wanted it from the start, but more importantly she hadn't wanted it to end. She buried her face in the crook of Regina's neck breathing whispers of "Don't leave," and "Not yet." Later, Emma would hope the mayor had not heard such abject pleading.
Regina clubbed a fisted hand on the desk as she wailed incessantly to the deep thrusting. Just the sensation of Emma's wet pussy grinding into her ass was enough to send her over the edge. Hips jerked against Regina, driving her further into the desk. She could care less that it had begun squeaking to their manic thrusts. Neatly piled budget reports and meeting minutes had long ago scattered leaving fingerprints and moisture in their wake, the expensive marble desk accruing beads of condensation under Regina's hot panting. Later, Regina would hope disinfectant would be sufficient in returning her desk to its original shine.
The phone was cradled in its docking station just to the left of Regina's head and when it rang she leapt back. The sudden movement threw them both into her chair with the very professional mayor in the lap of a stunned sheriff. They froze in shock as the phone continued to ring, staring at it like the person calling knew what fresh hell they had been raising.
"Let me go," Regina huffed and Emma took back the arms that had been encircling her waist. She stood on shaking legs and snatched up the phone, answering with a steady, "Mayor Mills," as if this were any normal day at the office.
Emma remained dazed and confused in the chair, too exhausted to care if she was ruining the fine leather with what recent activities have brought forth. She gripped the arms to keep from sliding down and focused on the woman.
"That was supposed to be drawn up today not next week!" the mayor shouted into the phone. The Housing Authority Director clearly had no sense of what 'deadline' meant. "Director Paulson, those rental properties are a danger to this town. Any child or homeless miscreant could stumble in and injure themselves. The foundation of some of those buildings is atrocious." There was more babbling from the other line. "Yes, well, take for prime example that property the Zimmer children were found in…"
As the mayor droned on Emma sat and stared. It was the first chance she was ever granted (however unintentional) in beholding the mayor in her unclothed glory. One hand pressed the phone to an ear while the other rested on a naked hip, index finger tapping impatiently. Emma continued her inspection to the backside she had so furiously been smacking against. She smirked at the remnant wetness that had been left in her wake. Regina's hand left her hip and planted itself on the desk while a delicate toe scratched an ankle. Emma cocked her head to get a better angle. Though she had ample time to catch her breath, Emma felt her heart continue to dance as her eyes glazed over the visible hollows and curves of the mayor's body.
"…hardly think that is reason to neglect your duties. If you can't do a simple job you can find yourself without one as quick as you can say…"
Blowing the occasional lock of hair from her viewing pleasure Emma had a momentary lapse in judgment and considered running a still booted toe up the calf of a distracted and very naked mayor. Leather on tender, supple flesh… it was a sexy combination and Emma found herself wondering if that's something Regina was into. Her boot twitched at the fantasy. No, Emma thought, that wouldn't be appropriate. Then again, the furious shining they had given the marble desk was not too appropriate either. Nevertheless, the boot stayed to the floor dejected in its own right.
"I want that re-inspection ordinance on my desk by tomorrow morning. Have I made myself clear?" Profuse apologies and lofty promises were spoken before Regina responded with an acidic, "Please do." The handset clattered into its cradle.
She rubbed her forehead in frustration, fingers sliding over cooling sweat. How people manage to retain office and act like fools at the same time was beyond her. With a blatant disregard for her current lack of clothes she picked up pen and paper and scratched down a reminder of the director's deadline. If he didn't hold up his end she would have no qualms about letting him go. There had to be some bright, ambitious fellow out there who could adequately replace such incompetence.
Ending the note with a flourish of her pen she placed it in her ink well. Turning she came face to face with the sheriff and gasped as their breasts clashed together. Her hands grabbed on to strapping upper arms to steady her shaky legs. Eyes clapped on to one another. In her rush to answer the call and reprimand such unconscionable behavior she had completely forgotten Emma was still there, probably ogling at her liable nakedness.
"If you answer the phone like that again I'm gonna have to arrest you for looking so damn hot."
Any response Regina prepared was interrupted by the kiss. Emma coaxed her forward with a gentle push of hands. Regina sensed the distance closing and did nothing to stop it. Surprising herself more than Emma, Regina fell into the tender assault, trailing fingers through the long blonde hair and allowing the wet softness of lips to overwhelm. She breathed heavily into the moving mouth while her heart resumed its galloping pace.
Neither one knew who broke the kiss first, though the voice's origin was unmistakable.
"Get out."
Emma gaped more at the even tone than the actual command. Her head cocked back. "Excuse me?"
"You may go, Sheriff." The mayor turned her attention to the desk. She gathered up the paperwork that had been disturbed, working methodically at returning order to her station.
Face scrunched in disbelief, Emma watched until it hit her like a ton of bricks (or the freaking Titanic, for that matter). At least she didn't do the lipstick thing, Emma thought. She threw her clothes back on and slammed the door behind her.
Bitch indeed.