I will miss this place, Swan," Killian mused as they stood wrapped around one another on the balcony of their modest suite, soaking up every detail of their last Oahu sunset. "But to tell the truth, though it has been marvelous, I am quite looking forward to something a tad less . . . serene."
As far as anyone back home was aware the Newlyweds' entire month long honeymoon would be spent in an island paradise. Not two weeks followed by some time in a much, much different fantasy world.
"A tad?" Emma leaned back to look him in the eye. "If you aren't setting the bar higher than that I'll have to reconsider my life choices!"
"Ooooooooh, the bar is much higher, you have my word. Consider it a vow, in fact." Killian grinned as he spoke, mouth gently brushing over his wife's neck.
Emma's pulse hitched as his arms tightened around her waist. "Yeah?"
"As Master or toy, you shall want for nothing. When you hold ownership, I vow to be the very definition of obedience-" he drove his nails deep into the small of her back without warning. "-and ceaselessly brutal when you require a Master."
"Thank you, Sir," Emma breathed. All day long she'd gone back and forth on whether or not to try the look. To start playing before they even left the island. He must have picked up on it. She thought, struggling not to smile. I married smart.
"I vow always to please my toy . . . " her husband purred, yanking down the strap of her pale blue camisole hard enough to break it. "Punish, test, humiliate . . . all she desires." He swept the untethered silk of out of his way to knead her exposed breast. "And what of you, Swan? Have you any vows in mind?"
"I-" her response turned into a sharp cry when Killian clamped down on an alert nipple.
"Well?" He pinched harder. "Go on . . . "
Emma shivered and arched against him, struggling for the right words. "I vow . . . to make you-ah!-work, um . . . work-"
"You said that already!" Killian growled. "Must I provide you a script?!" He grabbed her camisole near the seam and pulled down hard, easily tearing it so the garment became just a bit of ruined fabric hanging from one undamaged shoulder strap.
"I'll break you, I promise! I-"AH!"
Killian bit the rise of her breast without warning, and Emma squirmed against him, whining as he sucked the soft flesh with greater and greater force. "I'll . . . I'll . . ." she hissed, desperate to come up with anything as while the intense sting of being slowly marked at toy robbed her of focus. "Um, I, wh, whatever it . . . takes to-"
Killian ceased his work and loomed back, expression equal parts dark and smug. "Can't even pretend to be a proper Master, can you?" Killian snarled, thrusting himself between her thighs. "Pathetic." He wasn't too worried about being overheard. Their hotel of choice catered heavily to couples on romantic getaway, so he figured any complaint from another guest would be handled with, at worst, a mild scolding. "Fine then!" He all but threw her into the darkest corner of the balcony, following close after to pin her to the wall. "Mine to command. Now what to do with you?"
Emma froze, eager for whatever might come next.
Killian's fingers feathered beneath the lace trim of Emma's little silk shorts, a matched set to the now-ruined camisole, and traveled downward, seeking heat. "Mmmmmm, how predictable." He chuckled. "A mere few months without play and it's no effort at all . . . the mere idea of a Master has you wet-take them off." He leaned back just long enough for his toy to step out of her shorts, then pushed the palm of his hand between her legs, massaging aggressively. "So desperate to obey."
"Mm-hmm," Emma nodded slightly, pursing her lips to contain as much noise as she could.
"I wager you're imagining it, all the ways I might use you."
"Yes, Sir." Will he hurt me? Will he let me crawl? Let me suffer?
He spun her around to face the wall and pushed her legs apart with his own. "To bad, I'm hard as hell and in no mood to service your urges!"
Emma clawed at wall, gasping and struggling to hold her posture while her Owner thrust, and thrust, and thrust with ferocious greed. Let the games begin!
They left the island the next day.
Killian placed his toy under a single order. She was not allowed to speak to anyoneon the plane without his permission, and he refused to so much as touch her. They had two days to sleep off jet lag on their way to the cabin.
As per instruction, Brown Eyes was waiting on hands and knees at the front door when they arrived.
"Luggage in the trunk," Killian said, dropping car keys on the ground while Emma took a piece of lined paper from her pocket and set it in front of her.
"Chore list."
Brown Eyes looked down, fully expecting to read a list of sexual demands.
But no.
Wash Windows
Polish furniture
Vacuum
Dust
Do dishes
. . . . and a lot more. She got to work right away.
A few hours later they fixed her with a blindfold, dressed her in a sheer black bra, thigh length white skirt, no panties; and ordered her to rake the sizable yard.
"Do try not damage yourself stumbling about." The man ordered as a rake was placed in her hands. "You're pointless if broken." With that he and the woman went back in the house to read books.
Brown Eyes did trip and fall several times, but managed to avoid any game-stopping injury. She had no idea how long she'd been working when one of the Owners approached.
Sounds like the man.
"Drop the rake!" Killian barked as he grabbed her by the back of the neck and steered her toward the cabin. "We have need of your mouth." We pulled off the blindfold when they reached the bedroom and shoved her toward the bed.
The woman was posed nude, knees bent, legs spread, one arm casually slung across her midsection.
"My Princess took one hell of a fuck before we left Oahu, and took it quite well. She deserves a bit of soothing before I have another go." He grabbed Brown Eyes by the throat and held tight. "So tending pussy is your only job, understand? Unless she tells you otherwise."
"Mmhm," Brown Eyes nodded.
"Lovely," the man grinned. "Off you go then."
Brown Eyes settled in place between her Owner's legs and began by drawing her tongue in gentle lines through the length of her sex.
"Mmmmmmmm," Emma sighed, gaze riveted to Killian as Brown Eyes licked with artful precision. "Thank you."
"I love you so much," Killian softly replied. "Do let me know when this thing has earned payment."
Emma nodded and immersed herself in the experience.
The sight of his new bride writhing happily beneath their plaything's attentions took Killian from partial to fully erect in moments. "Such marvelous skill . . . " he undid his belt and crawled forward on the bed, prompting Brown Eyes to a position that would allow for fucking while she serviced Emma. No interruption. Won't be too long, Killian thought as he pushed Brown Eyes' skirt over the swell of her upraised ass. Not at all. Still, he waited patiently for Emma'sgo-ahead, slowly stroking himself in the meantime. Close . . . close . . .
Brown Eyes waited until the moment was just right, when the woman's body lay at the edge, ready to unravel, and the man's breath went shaky, his arousal ghosting closer and closer. When she the difference between a great game versus disappointment rested entirely on her, that's when she charged. Tending clit with one hand, clutching blankets with the other, devouring orgasm, and bracing her body for the man's imminent participation.
"Ah!" Emma cried out, bucking into Brown Eyes' mouth and fingers. "Yes that's-there, there-"
"Doing well?" Killian asked, panting as the tip of his length wept precum in generous amounts.
"She's earned," Emma whined, "sh, she, she's-"
"Enough, my love," Killian soothed, clutching the toy's hips. "All you need do is enjoy yourself."
Brown Eye hated to fail in any circumstance, and took her obligations as a submissive very seriously. So she imagined herself as a solid structure girded in place by reinforcements as the man's every aggressive thrust threatened to topple her.
Perfect! Emma thought in mid climax, watching her husband own. Determined. Punishing. Dark hair matted to forehead. Perfect. She needed him. Bye bye, Brown Eyes.
Before she could even process things Brown Eyes found herself kicked away and flung to the floor, landing with a surprised gasp. Was I doing a bad job?! She knew better than to ask.
"Eyes closed, and not one sound." Killian ordered as he hopped off the mattress, new wife rising to her knees to help him undress.
"Hurt me," she breathed. "Fuck me."
Killian didn't need to ask who was in charge at that point. The last of his clothes discarded, he dropped to the edge of the bed, grabbed Emma by the arm, and yanked her across his lap in a straddle. "You want me inside you?" he asked, locking her body in a vice grip so she couldn't take the initiative. His throat ran dry as he spoke, slick hardness aching as it strained toward her open heat.
Emma nodded as Killian took her wrist and guided her to stroke.
"This?" He asked, his jaw clenched tight, determined to make her work and wait just a little bit longer. In the meantime, he went about satisfying her other request. Hurt. Back, breasts, thighs, ass, he clutched and clawed ruthlessly. Mark everything! "Good . . . good . . . " he hissed and moaned sporadic praise for the toy's work. "Keep at it . . . almost . . . "
Cry after shrill cry escaped Emma as more and more of her flesh bore proof of her obedience.
"Almost . . . almost . . . " Killian finally gave in to his own need. "There!" He swatted his property's hand away and allowed her to plunge onto him, feeling himself fully engulfed in the blink of an eye. "Have at it," he barely managed to say as her lively sex rippled, coaxing, begging him to cum. Over the years of practice Killian had become quite the expert at holding off off his own release, but it was never easy. On occasions like this one he honestly thought taking the crop full-force would be a preferable challenge.
All the while Brown Eyes remained frozen on the ground next to the bed, wanting desperately to look up and witness her Owner's exact actions. To stroke her clit furiously and watch them fuck. They won't notice! Her mind whined. They won't! Just one quick look! But, ever the perfect sub she defeated the urge with little effort, and remained obedient.
Soft thud.
Rustling bedsheets.
A moment of relative silence save for the sound of breathing, broken by the woman's long, low moan and softly whining mattress. Brown Eyes wondered if the man had re-arranged her to all fours. Or maybe she on top now, or . . . so many possibilities. She listened to every degrading word the man uttered, shuddering with envy as the mattress got louder, in tandem with the man's voice.
"Who does this body belong to?" She heard him rasp. The woman's response was too quiet for her to hear. "SPEAK UP!" Based on the sound Brown Eyes knew the order was accompanied by a hard slap on the ass.
"YOU!" The reply was crystal clear this time. "You! You!"
The objections of the mattress grew louder, faster.
She must be close, thought Brown Eyes. The battle between arousal and duty raged on beneath her commitment to a sub's obligation. When he knows we're close he either speeds up or stops completely.
If Brown Eyes had disobeyed her Masters, she'd have seen her first guess correct. Killian had Emma posed face down, her scratch marked back in an elegant downward slope. Every mark stung perfectly, the pain pulsing with a heat that radiated throughout her body.
More! she begged silently, confident in her fortitude as the interrogation continued.
"Why?! Why did you give it me? Such a-lovely-toy?"
Certain of her purpose. Confident in her ability. Longing for challenge.
"Who does this pussy belong to?" Killian growled.
"You," she breathed, perched on the edge of release. All I need is more-
Killian, keenly aware of her needs no matter how subtle, swung back his open palm and brought it crashing down on largest, darkest marks on Emma's back.
"Too much!"Emma hissed. "Too much!"
You never hesitate to use the safeword when necessary, my love. Killian thought. Never. Knowing this fact, he totally disregarded the objection, and instead dug in his nails.
"Ah!" Emma cried out. "Please, sto-"
"I'll stop-when I-come! Her Owner growled.
The cold declaration pushed her even closer to release.
"Now-" it was all he could to to keep speaking. "Shut up-and know-your-place!"
Gone.
Killian let out a long, low groan as muscles within his self-declared property went ecstatic, clutching for friction with wet enthusiasm. In stark contrast to the desire of his own body, he withdrew and stroked himself wildly, cock aimed at her back.
Emma stilled immediately, did her best to bite back a disappointed whine, and waited to feel streams of warm cum on her body. It wasn't a long wait.
When it was over Killian sat back on his haunches and spent a long time looking over his work. "Hmmmmmmmmm." He mused. "What to do with you now . . . ?"
"Anything you want," Emma sighed, swimming in afterglow.
"I am utterly spent." said Killian, echoing his wife's sigh. "Lucky you, Brown Eyes, you're back in play. Get up here and clean her off."
"Yes sir." Brown Eyes replied, scurrying onto the bed.
Without permission to move, the woman continued to hold still.
The man did not offer Brown Eyes a towel or rag, so she picked up the corner of a bed sheet.
"No," the man said, grabbing her wrist. "Lick, you ridiculous idiot. And don't miss the bit on her ass."
Emma shivered as their Toy's warm tongue swept up and the contours of her body.
"You're in charge of her and myself when she's finish, Swan," Killian declared as he dressed. "THe both of you are exhausting, my mind needs a break."
Emma nodded 'yes,' and her husband slid to the floor, totally relaxed. She loved his tired, pleasured expression. Flushed. Proud, attentive gaze.
"Back to the floor," Emma ordered as she turned over and propped up on her elbows. Two toys. How to play with TWO toys . . . . . ? Pondering the all important question, she rose slowly from the bed. How to play. How to play. How to play? . . . Brown Eyes suffers first. That decision made, Emma selected a new outfit and dressed herself slowly, constructing each detail of a scenario as she went.
Dark red bodice, front laced.
Black lace stockings and garter belt.
Dark red panties, open. (crotchless being the usual term, but Emma never liked it. Completely unsexy word, and since the design's whole purpose was to make a woman fully open for fucking without the extra bother of removing panties, she liked her term better. Open.)
Once dressed, she strode the center of the room. "You stay where you are," she pointed at her male pet. "And you," she looked to the other one. "Clothes off and follow me."
Brown Eyes obeyed.
Emma came to an abrupt halt and spun on her heel when they reached the living room. "We're going to take one of these things back to the bedroom." She to each portable item of bondage furniture arranged around the room. T-chair, whipping bench, etc. "Your choice."
After careful consideration, Brown Eyes chose the bench.
"Okay," Emma nodded toward the innocuous storage chest in front of the sofa. "We have all kinds of things in there. Pick two."
Brown Eyes sorted through her many options carefully, and presented her master with a small whip, and long rectangular paddle. "These."
Killian was more than pleased when his bride and the toy returned. Bench. For me or her? He wondered. Perhaps we both get a turn?
'Bench' wasn't quite the right word. Emma wasn't sure an accurate term existed. The strange piece of furniture looked like someone with no experience in carpentry tried to build a small chair, but got it horribly wrong. Padded knee rests a foot off the floor, reclining back, and too-long armrests facing the wrong way. The only clue that the design was intentional, and for the purpose of bondage, was the pair of leather wrist and ankle restraints.
Brown Eyes knelt in place on the bench and braced herself to be struck, assuming it would begin immediately after the woman secured her restraints. Instead smooth, warm hands ran down her back.
Emma turned to her partner. "What do you think, honey?"
"Well . . ." Killian chewed his lower lip with a cheeky, lop-sided grin. "Your back is marked to hell, while hers remains pristine. One might mistake her as being in charge. I vote for the whip."
"Whip it is."
Brown Eyes let out one sharp, stilted cry after another as she was struck again and again and again and again in rapid succession. The cascade of searing abuse rained down too fast to count each strike. It went on and on, Brown Eyes either begging for more, or pleading for it to stop (with no utterance of the safeword, of course).
Emma didn't stop until the slave's flesh was transformed into a patchwork of angry red lines. Nowhere near pristine. "Okay," she panted, breathless with the effort of wielding such aggression. "How's that?" She stepped to the side so Killian had a clear view.
"Mmmmmm, a decent start." Killian patted the ground next to him. "Care for a rest?"
Emma accepted the invitation. The two cuddled quietly for several minutes until Emma broke the silence with a soft giggle. "Can you even imagine Brown Eyes as a Dom?"
"God no!" Killian scoffed. "That thing is downright addicted to being owned." He smoothed down his perfect partner's long blonde hair and shook his head. "I reckon if someone ever tried to force independence upon her she'd fall into a catatonic state."
"Safe bet," Emma sighed guiding his arms around her waist as she settled against his chest. "I bet she really is a professional sub in real life. Just to avoid being treated like a person."
"Hm . . . " Killian considered the theory carefully, determined to take it up a notch. "Actually . . . " he smiled, pressing a series soft kisses to Emma's temple. "I see her in a field dripping with respectability. Something like . . . grade school teacher, perhaps?"
"Mm." Emma threaded her fingers with his and guided one hand down between her legs. "Yeah . . . I can see that."
"Picture it, Swan," Killian's voice rumbled low in her ear. "Room full of sweet little students, not the slightest clue of their lovely instructor's habits. The horrendous muck she wallows in. . . " He adjusted Emma's body and leaned down just enough to press an index finger into her warmth. . . . "I mean, really-" he pushed deeper. "With so much slutting about, rumors would fly. She'd be fired for misconduct or something of the like in no time. So much for that theory."
No! Emma ordered herself. Team effort, make it work! she ordered herself. An idea struck instantly. "Oh come on, all she'd have to do is be the Principal's fuck-rag and spread her legs for enough PTA parents to tip the vote. Job kept. Simple."
Killian was impressed. Co-fantasy scenarios could be tricky. "Indeed." He traced slow circles around her clit.
Brown Eyes, meanwhile, listened to every tantalizing word with rapt attention.
This is good, Emma thought, push further. "Although . . . how many working couples with kids would have the free time or energy to invest in a slave?"
Killian pursed his lips. "Valid point." As always he met the challenge. In their experience of Brown Eyes, she was absolutely uninterested in anything but submission. Why would she bother with anything else? Killian's gaze drifted across the room to their trapped mess of a creature. Brown Eyes would have to fuck quite a number of these hypothetical parents, but he truly could not imagine her entertaining any prospect without by the promise of degradation. Swan's right, he thought, perhaps a few adventurous types in the lot-think of a way! Make this damn thing possible!
He swept his wife's hair to the side and nuzzled her elegant neck, betraying not a hint of stress or worry. "So . . .if Masters such as us are a special treat in her life . . not the everyday event . . . "
Brown Eyes shivered and squirmed, eager to hear the story play out.
". . . Well, starvation can only go on so long before one will accept anything they can get, quality be damned." Though dedicated to the narrative, Killian never abandoned Emma's pleasure, his touch and thrust oscillating from gentle to assertive at irregular intervals. "Soooooooo, it's a safe bet she leaps at whatever manner of fuck she can get to tide her over."
"Yeah," Emma breathed in agreement. "Safe bet."
"And there we have it!" Killian swelled with pride at having solved the puzzle.
They both imagined it. Brown Eyes giving herself away to any bored parent out of sheer desperation.
Emma whined, as a heat reapplying through her core.
"Mmmmmm," Killian's voice rumbled. "Yes, likely any cock will do. . . and I imagine quite a lot of neglected housewife pussy." Without warning he spun Emma around and pulled her into a straddle. "Truly," he queried, "should any woman should suffer such lack of attention?"
"No." Emma shook her head.
"And have I ever left you wanting?" Killian asked, thumb sliding over her clit with the natural motion of her hips. He knew her cues well enough to know another climax was on it's way. "Ever dearest? Have I?"
Emma shook her head again, clutching her husband's shoulders and bucking faster and faster against the aggressive thrust of his fingers.
"Feel free to be honest, Swan. I am yours to command, and will happily . . . amend any failure."
"No f-failures!" Emma panted."None!"
Arrival. Killian grinned, fingers pushing hard at each sensitive spot.
"You-AH! You only d, deprive me-oh fuck!-only when I need to earn-to earn y, yo, your-" her breath hitched and voice shook as she tried to reply. Words! She commanded herself. FOCUS! ". . . When I n, n, need to . . . be taught-AH! Or-PUNISHED!" The last word came shrill, in tandem with a series of pitchy cries.
Killian reveled in the continuous chant. "My Master or toy . . . is she not skilled in either role, Brown Eyes?" Despite speaking to the slave, his gaze never wavered from Emma.
"Yeah." Brown Eyes replied.
"Strong?"
"Yes."
"And generous?"
"YES!"
"Oooooooooh, there you are," he whispered as the absolute height of release wracked through his wife's body. Now to draw it out . . . he went about the task while still addressing Brown Eyes. "Clearly you were born utter trash, but I was a different man once-"
Emma's eyes fluttered shut as she went on moaning, suspended in pleasure.
"I tolerated no insult, bowed before no one-"
Brown Eyes couldn't help but strain violently against her restrains, wanting nothing more than to touch herself as the man spoke.
" . . . But then I became hers to instruct. To play with. And now . . ." he took a long, measured breath. "Now Brown Eyes, I kneel . . . crawl . . . surrender whatever I must . . . " Killian sighed happily and transitioned his touch from assertive force to gentle massage as Emma's body settled. "Lovely," he whispered before going on with the story. "The man I am now? . . . I throw myself to the dirt at her command." A tired smile shone on his wife's face, and though still too spent to achieve full erection, the sight did elicit from him a hint of physical response. "No degradation on my part is a cost to high . . . anything for her pleasure. . . ."
Brown Eyes listened to her Owners quietly kiss and whisper obscene endearments to one another. Her visits to the cabin stood out from other encounters by a wide margin, and she credited the fact to their particular bond. The way they traded sub/Dom roles back and forth, often without a speaking a word. Or switching out the dynamic entirely to use and co-Own her. Seamless transitions. God, I envy you two!
The Newlyweds spent a minute or two floating in the warmth afterglow.
I haven't the mind for authority just yet, Killian thought. He placed hands palm-flat on the floor, froze still as humanly possible, and waited for Emma to read the cue.
It didn't take long.
Fine by me, she thought, rising to her feet. The first detail she noticed about her pet, aside from his submissive pose, was the sheen of her sex on his hand. "Don't even think about licking your fingers!" she ordered, nodding to his hand.
"I promise." But of course, like a child given limits, suddenly all he wanted was the taste of her pleasure. Even my wedding ring is covered with-
"Close your eyes!" His Owner barked, brining the train of thought to an abrupt halt.
Orders, mate. Listen and follow.
"On your knees, hands behind your back." Emma crossed her arms, stern expression etched solid and cold as marble. Despite the passage of years, every once in a while she couldn't help but feel amazed at her talent for Dominance. Back when she and Killian first began to play, submission was the only role she quietly craved. Thinking of all her previous men, even if one of them had proved willing to grant her fantasy, that Emma would've turned down a request to Dominate in a heartbeat. No interest. At all. Stepping outside her own preference into someone else's was, to say the least, uncharacteristic of Young Emma. The willingness to at least try took maturity, and falling in love.
Let's go with a callback, she decided.
Emma fetched the crop and stood before her husband glaring for a brief moment, then swung it hard to the side of his face-identical to her first act as his Owner.
A well practiced toy, he braced for the strike and managed to withhold any outward response. Emma went on swinging the crop until he broke, reacting to each strike with hissing and gasping through clenched teeth.
No lemon! No! Not on our Honeymoon! Silence! Silence! Silence! The barrage ended just as he reached the tipping edge of his own fortitude.
Emma dropped to the floor in front of him and pulled his belt open one-handed while the other clutched his face. "Seriously?!" She barked, palming nearly flaccid cock. "You're a monumental waste of my time right now!"
"My apologies, Princess," the toy whispered, his throat run dry. "I guess I . . . overexerted myself before."
Emma rose to her feet with a dark scowl. "Still, what kind of half assed sub doesn't get hard for pain?"
"Again, I, I-"
"When I want excuses, I will ask for them. Stand up and put that useless thing away!"
Killian followed the order silently, face burning from humiliation even more than the crop. His Owner crossed her arms and circled him slowly, eyes wandering around the room.
"Okay," she mused quietly to herself.
He watched as she crossed the room and released Brown Eyes. "Go shower, and stay in there." After Brown Eyes left the room, she returned to Killian and shoved him in the general direction of the St. Anthony's cross. "You're going in storage for a while, I'll have the other one get me off."
Emma fetched a footstool from the closet in order to fasten her toy's wrists to the highest possible point, arms completely taught.
Though the pose was merely uncomfortable at the moment, Killian knew if she kept him captive for long real pain would set in. He'd be forced to stand tip-toe for relief. Best save your strength for when it's truly needed. Best to tolerate discomfort in the meantime.
His beautiful Owner stepped down from the stool, unbuttoned his shirt, and let her hands roam slowly over warm exposed flesh. "Hmmm . . ." She chewed her lip, frowning slightly. "Maybe . . . nope. Still boring."
"I am so, so sorry," Killian repeated.
"Y'know something I've been wondering lately?" Emma chirped, ignoring the rueful sentiment as she sat down at the foot of their bed. "It seems like a lot of otherwise hetero women are willing to . . . I guess branch out sexually would be the right term. Why do you suppose that is?" She crossed her legs and leaned back with a contemplative sigh. "I mean if a girl is ultimately into dick. Any guesses?" Emma's whole body tingled with the thrall of Dominance.
"Um-"
"Men can't orgasm the way we can." She said, her expression somewhere between a grin and a sneer. "You know. Over, and over, and over. As a gender you're almost pathetic, right?"
"Yes," Killian's nodded, arms already beginning to ache. "Terribly."
"Yeah." Emma's expression morphed into naked contempt. "One or two aggressive fucks, and a man is down for the count." She giggled. "Literally down. Soft. That's gotta be a tough pill for preening egomaniacs like you to swallow."
Killian shuddered as his Master's cold eyes stared, unblinking.
"I came when you made Brown Eyes lick me. I came when you fucked her. I kept cumming while you fucked me, and again just now riding your hand, aaaaaaand guess what Captian Useless? Not even close to worn out over here."
"I am so sorry," Killian cringed. "So sorry."
"Ugh, whatever." Emma rolled her eyes and stood up. "Here's what happens. Brown Eyes is going to entertain me until your stupid soft dick wakes up. Good plan?"
"Yes. If I can't please you, then-"
"We'll be in the living room." Emma cut him off. "I feel like she deserves a little present, actually. So I'm going to put her in the T-chair, work the thickest pussy toy we have into her, and lick until she cums at least twice. Minimum."
Killian let out long moan, a ripple of heat going directly to his groin. Not nearly enough to make him useful again, but it was a start.
"I'm leaving the door open so you can hear nice and clearly." Emma finished as she left the room. "Call out when you've got something I can work with."
It started off quiet. So quiet he could barely hear them. But within a few minutes he was listening to Brown Eyes go from aroused whimpering to outright frenzy.
Such a talent, he thought, reliving all the times he'd witnessed Swan's skill.
The noise went on in repetitive waves, each minute brining Killian closer to readiness. Even with upraised hands tingling, half-numb, and shoulders throbbing with pain, all he could think of was regaining his Master's attention. Being of service.
"Ready!" He cried out as full hardness strained helplessly. No response. Is it me or did they just get louder? "READY!" He cried again, "I'm ready! I swear!" . . . still no change. "I need your touch, please! Or the whip, the crop, leash, gag, anything!" his mind clawed desperately for the right thing to say-and the right way to say it. What might she want . . . ? Deciphering her intention wasn't usually a difficult task, not after so many years, but he was currently deprived of two valuable hints. Her expression and body language. You're flying blind, mate. It's down to guessing. Try 'romantic'. (Their own twisted version of it, of course, but still. "Please, my perfect Master! My obscene wife!" He drew a deep breath and began to bellow at the top of his lungs, the added strain sending fireworks shooting up and down his arms. "My salvation! My Iron Goddess! PLEASE! Command me, grant me purpose! Ruin me!" The rhythms and habits of their game woven so deep in his mind, his pleading words came spilling out with hardly a conscious thought.
Still she did not appear.
Arousal now pulsing with intolerable urgency, he refused to fall silent.
"Tear me apart, Princess, and rebuild me as you like!
Nothing.
"I need you, I a better creature! Please allow me to prove it, I beg you! I beg-" He paused to draw breath, and noticed at once that the sounds of unbridled sex had finally mellowed. That could change on a dime. Keep going. "My obedience is yours, always! I'll suffer anything, just let me be of service!"
The orgasmic symphony fell silent at last. He heard footsteps drawing close. It could be a tease. KEEP! GOING! He could tell from the sound that she was in the hall, just steps from the doorway, so when he continued, he did so at normal volume. "This strange, dark world of ours . . ." He tugged against his restraints as hard as he could bear, just for the fresh jolt of pain, to underline his dedication as a sub. "I belong to our contract, my darling Master," he rasped through clenched teeth, pushing through the pain with ardent determination. "I gladly surrender all that I am to your pleasure."
Finally, his wife stepped into the room, and what he saw struck Killian breathless.
Emma's posture, expression, even her gait as she approached-every detail shone identical to the day they married. The ceremony. Only one detail varied. Binding red leather in place of flowing white gown.
"Master or slave I am yours," he whispered, eyes fluttering shut with relief. "My perfect bride." He felt Emma step into the frame of the St. Anthony's cross, feet perched precariously, and her arms encircled his waist. Even with eyes closed he knew she was smiling. "May I be of service, Princess?" He asked breathlessly, rigid lust aching for attention.
Emma tightened her grip on his waist and rocked her hips against his groin. The game equivalent of a yes.
"Mmmmmmm," he moaned. "Anything to earn you, any task, please . . . "
"Would you like to touch me?" She mused softly in his ear.
"God, yes." He tried to say the words without pitiful mewling, but failed.
"Get me wet?"
"Yes!"
"Fuck me as long as I like?"
"Ye-AH! He gasped as his wife suddenly bit his earlobe and tugged hard-"yes."
Emma unlocked his shackles, which sent pins and needles shooting from fingertips to shoulders.
"How do you feel?" She asked casually as she took his hands and hopped down from frame, guiding him to follow.
"Desperate!" he declared, sweat shining on his forehead. "Please make use of me." He winced as life began to return to his arms. "I've, I am . . . a proper slave should not stand idle."
"Hmmmmmmmmm . . . . look at me." Emma undid her Plaything's pants and slipped her hand inside, fingers curing around his hardness. "I could do this until you cum in your pants like a horny teenager," she purred, stroking gently,
Horrific! Killian braced himself for the humiliation possible if she continued.
"Of course then you're right back to being pointless, so that only punishes me." Emma sighed, still stroking. "Whip you? . . . Make you crawl around the house? . . . ugh, damn too many options, I don't wanna decide!" She let go of him and took a big step backward.
(The Look)
Killian nearly fell to the ground in shock. Am I seeing this?
"I'd like to be done thinking now, Sir."
(The. LOOK.)
"I, I uh-" he stammered, totally unprepared for resuming authority. As he begged he'd taken for granted that his immediate future held all manner of challenge and punishment. Control! He insisted. Now! Take control this second, Pirate, or let down your WIFE!
Instant clarity.
"Fair enough." He said with a shrug. "I've not yet truly destroyed, have I? You've endured a bit of pain, obeyed a few simple commands, but for you that's practically cute. Nowhere near the level degradation you need, correct?"
Emma dropped her gaze to the floor and nodded yes.
"I think it's co-Owning Brown Eyes that made me forget-" he grabbed her arms and pulled her close. "-what you truly are!"
The toy tensed and writhed in his arms.
"You may control that other whore well enough, but it changes nothing," he growled in her ear, genuine ferocity creeping into his voice. "At heart you're still this! Mindless filth in need of orders."
Emma pursed her lips and whined as her Owner tugged her even closer, bare erection pressing to her thigh.
"The slut, craving humiliation, desperate to be used in foul, horrible ways," Killian sneered. "I think you need to be reminded, yes?"
Emma tried not to smile as she replied. "Yes."
Killian tossed her away and began stroking himself. "Fetch my phone from the nightstand and bring it here, camera on. Video." The second the device was in his hand he pushed the toy to her knees and nudged her head to a slight backward tilt. "There," he sighed, angling himself close to her mouth. "I can't recall, what title did we decide you'd take after the wedding?"
"Married cock toy." Emma replied without pause.
"Indeed." He zoomed in close on her face. "I know we agreed to push ourselves to new heights this visit-or lows, as the case may be-but I'm in a nostalgic mood just now. Keep your head back and do not take your eyes from me, understood?"
The toy nodded, and Killian moved close enough to tease at her slightly parted lips. "This was it, I believe. The first little scene I dreamt up all on my own. Not quiiiiiite letting you suck me while I filmed," he mused. "My entire catalog up to that point had consisted of your specific suggestions . . . "
"Uh-huh." Emma resisted the urge to lick pre-cum as it slicked her lower lip.
" . . . good enough to satisfy you at the time, but had I proved unable to expand the portfolio-aaaaahhhhhh," he sighed as the Plaything's breath ghosted over his hyper sensitive flesh. (Gather yourself!) " . . . I would never have truly owned you." He focused on enunciating every word in order to keep himself from taking the warm depth of her mouth. "Never . . . surprised . . . you . . . never . . . ruined- " he realized he'd sped his stroke to a dangerous pace, and paused long enough to calm down. "It was that exact game I knew I could spend the rest of my life thinking up my own ways to break you." He drew in a deep gulp of air and allowed himself a tiny indulgence. "Lick what you can reach, but remain still otherwise," he ordered. "You'll have me deeper as I choose." His voice dropped several octaves as he continued. "Challenging trash though you are, I knew I'd the skill."
Emma shuddered with excitement as the tip of him slid beyond her lips.
"To corrupt you," his voice dropped several octaves.
(Deeper)
"Test this perverse fantasy."
(Deeper)
"Be a vile, cruel Master."
(Deeper)
"To tear away every trace of Emma Swan until nothing remained but a hollow, ruined slut."
The toy made no effort to hold back a needy warble.
"Suck!" Killian ordered, claiming her mouth in the same moment.
(More . . . more . . . retreat . . . thrust . . . retreat . . . thrust)
Suddenly, a more interesting idea struck, and he withdrew from the toy's mouth. "Did you leave Brown Eyes restrained or free?"
"Free."
Killian yelled for Brown Eyes, tossing her the phone when she arrived. "Film this . . . " he sighed, again positioned as before, cock just beyond reach of his plaything's lips. "See? . . . This is what it looked like the first time I became truly, completely her Master. Mmmmmmm," he stroked himself and grinned at the camera. "We're going to document this. Do keep the focus on her unless I say otherwise."
Brown Eyes nodded, and Killian returned his attention to Swan.
"Since that day I've found a thousand ways to ruin you, have I not?"
"Yes," the toy whispered.
"Crushed all that obnoxious self respect?" Killian chuckled and sped his stroke. "Funny, she never seems to miss it . . . do you?" He drove himself into her mouth the moment she began to reply. Killian went on with the narrative, voice oscillating in pitch as the toy sucked skillfully. "You've neverseen her fully broken, Brown Eyes, aaaaaaahhhhhhh . . . the fallen trash she's willing to bec-AH! Oh!" he took a deep breath and chose to focus on the camera. "And I'll never let you see it. That creature is mine and mine alone to play with-wait!" He cried suddenly, tossing his creature away so she fell back on her ass. "I've abandoned my own scene scene, haven't I? Damn that eager mouth of yours! What have you to say for yourself?!"
"I'm sorry, Sir."
"In so. Many. Ways!" The thundering urge to keep fucking his toy's throat threatened to consume Killian, but he resisted, returning to the original plan "Now, as you were!" He growled. "Head back, mouth nice wide-goooooood . . . this was the scene, Brown Eyes. Poor thing not allowed to suck or even touch me . . . just kneel there and watch while I got myself off. Like so . . . "
Emma honestly wasn't sure what she wanted more, to have him in her mouth, or to touch herself. Given the game he was recreating she knew option one was out of the question, but keeping her hands off the parts of her body longing for attention took genuine effort. Could I convince him to let me? Maybe if I volunteer to earn it . . . every passing second as she watched her Owner stroke himself, slick with pre-cum, the urge grew stronger.
"Zoom in close now, Brown Eyes." Killian purred, a lust-hazed sneer on his face. "She's going to tell you a bit about herself."
Emma obeyed, and as she spoke every word took her closer to orgasm. But without the right to touch herself . . . all it would take is a second, she mourned, clit humming with frustrated need. Ask! Beg! Please! But she didn't beg. When push came to shove, total obedience was the stronger desire.
"His property," she warbled. "Toy, thing, trash. . . she breathed heavily, mind scrambling for the words that might finally drive her Master over the edge. "I'm . . . his . . . pathetic cum slut!"
"Mmmmmmmm," Killian purred. "Indeed she is . . . the thing loves sucking me off." Killian turned his gaze to Brown Eyes. Hold back mate, just a few minutes longer! "I'll let her tell you."
"I do," Emma confirmed, staring at the camera to underline her affirmation. "I love it when he lets me. But when he doesn't . . . " it has to be perfect! "I take anything he gives me, and I say thank you."
"Good." Killian nodded. "Now, tell her why I might refuse you cock."
"I'm too much work," she replied as more and more pre-cum coated her lips. "A burden. I wanna be tied up, cuffed, whipped, dragged on a leash,and he does it! I, I, I should be denied at least something!"
"So-what-if-"Killian hissed each stilted word, seconds from release. "W, w, what if-I deny you-now?"
"Thank you!" She cried out, her whole body twitching with anticipation. "May I please suck cock tomorrow? Please?!" Any second, quit squirming!
"Hold STILL!" Her Master barked.
Emma froze, a perfect statue, as the first warm jet of ejaculate slid down her face.
It surprised Killian how hard he came, all things considered. He fisted a hand in his toy's hair while rattling to a finish, and when it was over pulled her head back, neck muscles taught. "Fantastic mess, you are," he mused.
Emma waited, patient and delighted as his fingers trailed over the contours of her face, slowly guiding his cum to her mouth bit by bit.
"I honestly believe she could do this all day, Brown Eyes." Killian sighed in her general direction. "Go sucking and swallowing 'round the clock. I swear," he laughed almost jovially' "if not for my jealous nature, I'd test the theory. Send her to her knees for public use, men lined up by the dozen."
He brushed the back of his hand over a clean area of her face with great affection.
She leaned into the touch instinctively.
"But the truth is I'm too possessive. She may service you, I could care less." His eyes flicked briefly to Brown Eyes. "You're only a prop in this game. No threat to me at all." He knelt down in front of his toy, reveling in the feel of her lapping at his fingers. "But another man? . . . I'd worry terribly that my princess might regard any cock in her mouth as her Master and grant him full obedience. Follow orders. And what man would pass up a chance to fuck as they please, their every urge indulged by such a talented slut?"
The praise so thrilled Emma, she failed to suppress a happy whine.
"Almost done, my deviant love," her Owner whispered with a tiny smile as his tongue brushed over his fingers. "There, that's clean enough." Killian ran his hands down the contours of her torso, one hand diverting to slide between her legs.
Did I earn a reward?
"I suppose I could tolerate sharing her body with another man . . . " his fingers feathered through her wet center ". . . but if she ever obeyed an outright command? Well," he glared, half imagining it, "I would be forced to remind her to whom she belongs-on your back-"
Reward! Emma knew he intended to let her cum as he moved between her knees, gradually pushing all but his thumb inside to the hilt.
"I'd kill the man in question-or men if she'd whored out to several." Killian rotated his hand palm-up and sank in deeper. "Then nothing but pain and humiliation for months. Not a single fuck or taste of cock for her-wouldn't that be a proper LESSON!" He drove forward with vicious force, burying himself to the wrist.
"AH!" Emma cried out, shuddering. "Ah!"
Killian grinned. "I know it looks like a lot, Brown Eyes," Over and over again he thrust."But she bloody adores this!"
"Ah! Ah! AH!" Emma's frantic chant went on. "Thank y-AH!"
He felt the toy clench around his fist, tight flesh undulating with pleasure. He basked in her unfettered orgasm, free hand massaging her clit.
The toy whimpered and begged, bucking violently as wave after wave of release crashed through her body. Her Owner knew exactly how far to push, how hard to press, when to make it hurt . . . everything.
"I can't recall what I made her do to earn this the first time," Killian explained as his wife went on writhing.
(not true, it was two hours bound and blindfolded in the closet while he occasionally opened the door to tease her pussy with a bit of light touching)
"But she came, and came, and came. So tight around my hand, I expected to hear the safeword any moment! But no . . . " Killian smiled as Emma peaked, then slowly regained sense and stillness. "Not my Goddess . . . "
Emma closed her eyes, sated and happy as a gentle hand thick with the scent of her own sex began to trace her features.
"The less I held back . . . the more she liked it . . . my unbreakable beauty . . . "
Emma's eyes fluttered open and a perfect warmth drew in around the couple.
". . . I could not have married better." Killian meshed their fingers together as he pulled Emma to sitting position, the still-new wedding rings sliding against one another. "You may leave now, Brown Eyes. Back to your chores."
The Newlyweds spent a long time snuggling, then crawled into bed. They read books, collaborated on a crossword puzzle, and discussed in depth how best to use Brown Eyes the following day.