Dinner was a strange affair.
After being led down the back staircase by Kurt prompted her to try a quip about the servants' stairs that had just made the young man laugh - "This isn't Britain, Ms Fabray. We don't have a special staircase just for servants." - she'd opted to keep her mouth more shut than not to avoid any more embarrassing missteps. Her father never would have recognized her after that decision - not that he would have even pretended to recognize her after she became pregnant with Beth, let alone signing Sue's contract to become one of her whores. He'd always taught her to speak. To take advantage of the situation in whatever way possible.
To be a Fabray.
As she was seated in one of the oak high-back chairs at the dining table by a solicitous Kurt across from a Santana that looked more interested in her smart phone than the woman carrying her child across from her, Quinn reflected if it was possible to be less like her father's absurd definition of what a Fabray was, then it probably didn't exist. She'd been a pregnant teen, sold herself into the hands of a demented duo to sell her body for sex, and was now pregnant with another woman's - albeit a very well endowed woman - child. And all before she was old enough to drink. It was about as far as she could get from her father's ideal while still remaining human and - relatively - straight.
The dish of chicken, pasta, and asparagus set in front of her was almost mouthwateringly delicious smelling and a far cry from the sort of food she'd been able to afford on her limited budget while she was trying to raise Beth or the strictly nutritionally regulated meals allowed her by the firm. The portion size was significantly more generous as well. She looked up at the cheerfully smiling black woman in the white chef's jacket in confusion as she put a plate down in front of Santana.
"Tonight's dinner is chicken thighs braised in a sauce made from white wine, cherry tomatoes from our very own greenhouse, and garlic - and don't you even give me any lip about those bland, rubbery things you call breasts, Ms Lopez. There's more saline in those things you ordered than Dolly Parton. I sent the whole lot back."
Santana just rolled her eyes with a tolerant smile. "Whatever you think is best, Mercedes," she said, putting her phone away. "I defer to your judgement in the kitchen. I'd be careful about continuing to send things back after I order them though. I won't always order something else."
"You keep telling yourself that," Mercedes said with a snort. "You know you love my sweet cooking or you wouldn't be paying my check every other week. Now, accompanying these succulent as hell thighs is an angel hair pasta tossed with butter and fresh oregano and basil - which will just love up on that sauce the thighs were braised in and be completely delicious - and sauteed asparagus with a little lemon and shallots. And," she added with a smirk, "if anyone is wondering what that heavenly smell coming from my kitchen is, it's homemade sweet potato tots which aren't accompanying this meal because someone has a problem with them."
"You tried serving them with every meal!" Santana protested, a slight smirk making the familiar old argument between them less combative.
She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Quinn. "Whatever. Ms Thang just doesn't understand the subtle nuances of a properly made tot, but if you ever get a craving for the golden goodness, you just give me a ring down in the kitchen and I will fix you right up."
"I, um... t-thank you," Quinn said with a blush, looking down at her plate to hide the smile the banter had started to invoke.
"Mercedes!" Santana snapped, rolling her eyes. "Kindly stop propositioning my lover," Quinn's eyes widened noticeably in surprise at the casual use of the title before her attention was directed down to her plate again, "with offers of carbs no matter how delicious they may be and go have dinner with your man. Or would you like me to inform Shane that your interests are trending," her voice lowered to a dangerous purr as she smirked at the wide eyed woman, "in a different direction?"
"You do and you'll never get another cookie from my kitchen," Mercedes responded, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. "Shane knows quality when he sees it. He'd never believe you."
"Mmhmm," she murmured, turning her attention to her dinner, "you keep telling yourself that."
"Whatev," Mercedes responded, stalking back off through the door that Quinn could only presume led to the kitchen.
"As you've probably noticed, Quinn," Santana said after a few moments for them both to cut their food up into manageable pieces, "I'm not an unreasonable person to live with. I require only two things from the members of my household." She paused to take a small bite of chicken, savoring the taste as she chewed before swallowing. "Mercedes outdid herself this time. As I was saying, I required only two things. One, complete honesty. In your case that will be doing away with that absurd mantra of your firm's. I don't wish to hear it from you again. If you don't want something, then be honest and tell me."
"Yes, ma'am," Quinn said softly, swallowing hard as she tried to force down her food past the thick feeling in her throat that seemed constant since she'd agreed to carry the other woman's child.
"Good. The other thing is obedience." She dabbed at her lips with her napkin. "I will only rarely give orders, but when I do, I expect them to be obeyed without question. Is that clear?"
Quinn looked up at her, startled. Her mouth hung open as she tried to process being able to refuse to do something that Santana claimed to want with the woman's need for utter obedience. Santana frowned at how long it was taking for her to respond and set her fork down deliberately.
"I said," she said slowly, her voice dangerously low, "is that clear, Quinn?"
"I... I, um... y-yes. Yes, ma'am," she whispered, her cheeks flushing as she looked down at her food again.
"Good." There was a soft scrape of metal on porcelain as Santana picked up her fork to resume eating. "In return, I provide for all of your needs to the best of my ability and," she looked across the table at Quinn, waiting until the blonde raised her head to meet her eyes, "I'll never touch you with the purpose of hurting you. That's a promise, Quinn. I may correct you, but I'll never touch you in anger or with the intent to cause you harm. You or..." Her eyes flicked towards Quinn's stomach, but she didn't finish the statement, not yet prepared to fully acknowledge the child growing in her stomach.
Quinn nodded slowly. "I... understand. I think."
"I hope so," she said mildly, scooping up another forkful of pasta and asparagus to eat. "Because I expect to see you in my bedroom no less than two hours after dinner is complete. Unless," she raised a brow at Quinn, "you'd prefer to not be fucked tonight?"
"N-no," she said, a blush flooding over her cheeks as she realize how quickly she protested. "I... I'll be there."
"Are you sure? Because I won't tolerate any more of that bullshit the firm had you spouting."
She nodded again. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sure. I'll be in your bedroom."
Santana nodded. "Undress when you arrive and then wait for me."
Her blush spread to the tips of her ears. "Yes, ma'am," she said softly, turning her attention to finishing her dinner.
Two hours later, Quinn was waiting with growing anxiety as she stood in the middle of Santana's bedroom feeling completely exposed with her clothes neatly folded on top of the dresser. She'd been unable to suppress the shiver that ran through her at the sight of the black silk ropes carefully woven around the posts of Santana's dark wood bed - the sight bringing to mind the night she'd spent in Santana's pleasure at the hotel. Her hands rubbed over her wrists, remembering the feel of the scarves loosely tied around her wrists and ankles that night.
Her heart slowly started beating faster as the memories of that night ran through her mind, a hot trickle of arousal slipping down her thigh. Her breathing changed, becoming deeper and slower as she tried to control herself, unaware of how her eyes were darkening. It was to that sight - Quinn nude and visibly aroused in the middle of her bedroom - that Santana entered the room.
"Starting without me?" she murmured, her voice low with amusement as she dragged the heavy oak chair from her vanity over to the middle of the room. "Sit."
Quinn looked at her in confusion, not understanding what she wanted.
"Do I need to repeat myself?" she asked softly, a dangerous edge to her voice sending a shiver up Quinn's spine as she found herself moving to obey Santana's order, the cotton of the pillow on the seat seeming rough against her bare ass. "Good girl."
She paced around the chair, looking Quinn over. She didn't refrain from touching her, nudging her legs further apart with a foot or running her fingers over the width of her shoulders. Occasionally, her fingers slipped down to brush lingeringly over bare thighs or the peaks of her breasts.
"You're a very beautiful woman, Quinn," she murmured, otherwise ignoring the way her erection was beginning to bulge the front of her skirt out. "I'm almost surprised you chose this profession, though I'm sure you had your reasons. Everyone does."
Quinn shivered and tried not to respond to the way she could feel Santana's eyes roving over her nude body, visually caressing her with a gaze so heated she almost thought it'd burn her. "I... had debts," she whispered, not willing to let the woman have the knowledge of her daughter.
"I imagine you did," she murmured. "What are you going to do, Quinn? Stay? Go?" Her head cocked to the side as she regarded her. "You could, you know. Leave that is. Of course, I'll sue for custody of my child should it be born, healthy or not, but you could leave. Neither slavery or prostitution is technically legal so there's nothing I nor that firm of yours could do to stop you or... reclaim you, so to speak."
Quinn's breath caught in her throat as Santana's words sank in. Leaving. Getting to see Beth again. It sounded too good to be true. "T-they'd find me, ma'am. I... signed a contract."
"That sort of contract isn't legal in this country," she said, letting her hands play over Quinn's shoulders as she stood behind her. "I want you to be aware that, should you choose to," she lingered on the word choose, drawing Quinn's attention to it, "you can leave at any time. You may be carrying my child, but I don't own slaves. Every member of my household is here because they choose to be. You have that same choice to make every morning."
She leaned down, her breath warm against Quinn's ear as she husked, "Do you understand what I'm saying, Quinn?"
She trembled faintly under Santana's hands, her eyes falling closed as her breath flooded over her ear and cheek. "Y-yes, ma'am. I... I think so."
"I won't have someone here against their will," she said, straightening up again and beginning to circle her once more. "Either in my house or my bed. I enjoy your company. I even enjoy your body." She paused in front of her, noticing the way Quinn's eyes fell to the bulge of her erection with an almost hungry gaze with a tiny smirk. "I especially enjoy the way you look at me without fear," she added in a husky voice. "But... unless it's by your choice, I don't want you here."
"I understand, ma'am," Quinn whispered, following Santana with her eyes.
"I'm not sure you do. Not yet," Santana said softly. "But you will learn. For now though..." She knelt in front of her, running her hands from her knees up her legs to press gently against her inner thighs, making her swing her legs out around the sides of the chair and slide her ass forward on the seat, bringing her core closer to Santana's face. She breathed deeply, her nose nearly brushing the woman's dripping core as she inhaled her scent. "For now," she continued, her voice husky with want, "I'm going to enjoy the fact that you chose to be here."
Quinn whimpered softly as she looked down at the dark head between her thighs as Santana leaned in. She had to force herself to grip her knees and not bury her fingers in dark hair, knowing she'd be punished if she didn't from long hours of training by the firm. The first rough brush of the tip of Santana's tongue dragging up from the upper edge of her entrance's rim to flick over where her clit was just peeking out of its hood nearly made her convulse, her stomach muscles jerking hard in reaction.
"So sensitive," Santana murmured, her breath hot and cold waves over her core. "I love how quickly you react to me. How delicious you are," she added, burying her face against Quinn's hairless mound to take her clit between her lips and suckle hard.
Quinn writhed, having to force her hands back to grip the back of the chair to avoid breaking the skin on her legs she gripped them so hard. She gasped for breath as Santana held her clit between her teeth and lashed it with her tongue, too overwhelmed to give voice to the scream in her throat. Santana rolled her eyes up to watch her as she slid her hands to her knees to keep them pressed apart as she focused on massaging the gland in her mouth.
She forced out a desperate keen as Santana let up only long enough to slide lower, lapping at her entrance before thrusting inside as far as she could. She nuzzled at her clit with her nose, breathing shallowly as she did her best to pump her tongue as far as she could inside of her. Above her, Quinn desperately tried to keep control, but when Santana's insistent tongue met the aroused state she'd already worked herself into remembering the night the other woman had made her blackout from the force of her orgasms, she was doomed to fail.
She came with a choked off cry, her walls clamping down on Santana's tongue even as a rush of fluid coated the woman's chin. The smile on Santana's face was almost wicked as she pulled away, everything smelling like the amazing musk of a woman's cum. She stood, reaching down to tug Quinn up onto shaky legs, arousal dripping down her thighs and soaked into the pillow she'd been sitting on.
"To the bed, beautiful," she husked into Quinn's ear, helping the dazed woman make her way over to the bed and spread out on top of the cream colored sheets. "Tomorrow you may change your mind," she whispered, tying Quinn's hands loosely together over her head before attaching them to the rope dangling down from the center of the headboard. "But tonight," she added, kissing her way down Quinn's still trembling body as she moved to tie her ankles to each corner post, "you chose to belong to me again."
Quinn swallowed thickly as she watched Santana climb off the bed and slowly remove her clothes. Her eyes followed her hands almost hungrily as they slid down over the heavy globes of her breasts, over the flat plane of her stomach, to circle and casually stroke over the thick length of her proud cock. "I belong to you," she whispered, feeling her body respond to Santana's gaze in a way that almost frightened her.
"You're mine," she agreed, crawling back onto the bed and dragging her cock along her leg to tease her core with just the head. "I'm going to make you ruin these sheets, Quinn. You'll come so hard on my cock, you'll explode," she whispered, reaching down to line herself up. "Tell me now if you don't want this."
She looked up at Santana, her nostrils flaring as the scent of her cum coating Santana's chin hit her nose. "I want," she gasped out.
Taking that as permission, Santana slammed into her, bottoming out against her cervix with a grunt as she sealed Quinn's lips in a possessive kiss. Her hips flexed, thrusting hard into her over and over, her thick member stretching her wide and rubbing against her walls almost painfully fast until she managed to stretch to take her. Their breasts rubbed together, nipples clashing against each other as Santana fucked her hard enough to rock the heavy oak bed into the wall with hard thumps.
She knew Santana had the ability to come more than once from their last time together, but she hadn't been expecting the flood of cum into her core when she first came with a low grunt into her mouth, continuing to thrust into her with her softening member. Santana pulled away from the kiss, looking down at Quinn's swollen lips with pride as she ground her slightly softened member into Quinn's core, never pulling out all the way. After a few moments, she all but collapsed down on top of Quinn, nuzzling her neck.
"I'm not done yet," she panted, continuing to slowly move her softened member slightly inside her. "Don't think I'm done..."
Quinn licked her lips as she concentrated on the feeling of Santana's now significantly smaller member sliding in and out of her in tiny increments. Tentatively, she tried using kegel exercises to grip her, making Santana moan deep in her throat in a way that sent a jolt of arousal straight to her core. She'd been taught to use the exercises at the firm, but had never found a good enough reason to before now.
After a minute of the shallow thrusts and Quinn massaging her cock, Quinn gasped at the feeling of it swelling inside her again. Santana pushed herself up on her forearms with a knowing smirk. "Told you I wasn't done yet," she said, moving herself to be able to catch a nipple between her teeth and suck hard as she started thrusting again.
Startled into audibility, Quinn's gasps, moans, and cries of pleasure echoed through the spacious bedroom, mingling with Santana's own grunts and gasps of effort as she pounded into her. Once... twice... three times Quinn's walls clenched hard around Santana's cock, making it hard to move for a couple moments as she came, her eyes rolling back in her head as each climax thundered over her.
Reaching down between them as she felt herself getting close to her third orgasm of the day and knowing she wouldn't be able to do more, Santana found Quinn's clit and started massaging it with rough hurry. Her breath came in fast pants as she clung to her climax, Quinn keening desperately under her, her nails digging into the rope binding her to the bed.
"Come with me," she demanded, nipping at her shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. "Come with me, baby."
Even teetering on the brink of an sex-fueled blackout, she couldn't help but obey, her body locking up hard around Santana as she squirted out over their jointed bodies even as Santana pumped her full of cum again before collapsing on top of her. It was several long minutes before Santana recovered enough to pull herself from Quinn's ravished body in a rush of fluids.
Her hands shook with exhaustion as she untied the ropes binding Quinn's wrists and ankles, her eyes never leaving the half-awake woman's body as she freed her. Her heart told her to clean her and let her stay, but her mind slapped her with memory of the other woman hurriedly dressing and leaving with her pay the last time she did something like that. Shaking her head to try and clear away the pointless romanticism, she walked across the room to grab a towel from her ensuite bathroom.
After cleaning herself, she tossed it at Quinn. "Clean up," she said, a rasp of command in her sore voice, "then you can leave."
Looking confused, Quinn slowly pushed herself up before taking the towel with a visibly shaking hand and doing her best to mop up the worst of the fluids still leaking from her core. Shaking to badly from exhaustion and post-orgasmic stupor to fumble her way into her clothes after getting to her feet and picking them up, she clutched them to her chest as she made her way out of the room and down the hall to her own bedroom, feeling more humiliated than she had in a long while.
Back in her room, Santana slumped down in the chair she'd left in the center of the room and cradled her head in her hands. "Mami... Papi, I wish you were here to tell me what to do," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "I could really use your help."