A/N Again, I apologize for this late update. My muse thought it would be fun to abandon me, but nevertheless, it returned. I will say that I had difficulty writing this chapter and will warn you this scene contains a bit that may be offensive or...what's the word...? Unliked? You get the point. I believe I put a disclaimer at the beginning that this story was going to be darker. But that's why you're here right? The title does infer as much ;)
Enjoy and please review!
Warning: Slightly violent and submissive sexual acts.
"So, what will it be, Princess?"
An overwhelming sensation spread throughout the blonde's body as if the dark eyes she were staring into was taking hold of her very soul. With the snap of her wrist the captivating woman could have had her on her knees; as much as that thought should have frightened the Princess, it drew her towards the forbidden darkness.
Every thought of her past vanished like a fading fog and right before her she could see a new life expanding and growing, climbing up her spine like vines into her foresight. However, what she saw wasn't clear enough for recognition though she felt the need to explore this shadowy corridor and pry open the locked doors.
Her pink lips opened, yet when she tried to speak, thorny vines curled around her vocal cords, restraining every word. She knew that any attempt to utter a word would render them unintelligible, but it wasn't like Emma to be lost for words. No, she always had something to say.
A sinister smirk played across the Queen's face as though she were reading the Princess like an open book. She could have demanded for a reply. Instead, she gripped the pale woman's chin firmly and waited for her reaction.
Emma's jaw immediately tensed, eyes dilating, and for a brief second there was an impulse to pull away, but the grip tightened ever so slightly.
Peculiar, Regina mused and let out a faint chuckle.
The brunette was known for acting on impulse. By doing so she normally got what she wanted as it usually resulted in frightening whoever the opposing player was, but a recurring thought drifted across her mind.
This was Snow White's daughter. The product of True Love. The purest form of light that had ever been created.
And it was hers for the taking.
She ran her thumb across pale, surprisingly soft, lips. The blonde parted them as if to speak, but nothing was uttered. Green eyes tried to calculate the thoughts swimming through the darker woman's head, but there was a mask tightly in place. That is all it was, a soulless disguise to cover up whatever she feared needed to be kept safe.
"Let's find out how pure your blood runs," the Queen purred and grabbed the princess by the hips, pushing her towards the nearest wall eliciting a sharp intake of air from the victim when a sharp, unexplained power coursed through her very being.
White cotton had managed to ride up Emma's back exposing her stomach while dexterous hands were pushing down the trousers she had been given. Why had she been given new clothes in the first place?
A thousand sensations overtook the blonde, a mixture of anxiety, fear, and exhilaration, but one stood out like a sore thumb, a sickening one, yet she couldn't pinpoint what it was as her breath quickened and her eyes darkened.
The dark trousers pooled around pale legs in a silent cascade and upon instinct, she stepped out of them.
"Kneel," the Queen demanded, but the only response was the defiant movement of the blonde's jaw. In return, the darker woman's eyes narrowed, "you will do as I say, Princess."
Emma's nostril's flared.
"Stop calling me princess, Your Highness."
Suddenly there was a familiar pain against her pale cheek again, but the blonde didn't falter in her disobedience. The act only angered her more and offered a very responsive shove sending the brunette stumbling back. Brown eyes flashed a wicked hue of violet and suddenly Emma fell forward unwillingly, the sound of her kneecaps hitting loudly even against plush carpet.
Her movements ceased. Her breath came hard as adrenalized anger shot through her veins like a harsh injection. Everyone always told her that her short temper would get her in trouble; it always did.
She opened her mouth, but suddenly it was as if her airways were being constricted, and when her eyes fell upon the shadowy mist that encased the Queen's hands she realized why.
"It is Your Majesty or My Queen, dear, and you better learn it quickly before I cut that tongue off. Fortunately for you I can think of other ways to quiet that mouth of yours. And as for you, I will call you as I will. If I want to call you Princess I will. If I fancy calling you my pet and wish to walk you around my Palace with a collar to your throat, I shall. Do you understand me?"
Emma took a large gasp of air, falling forward to catch herself when the magical hold relinquished her. Summoning up the last bit of freewill she had left, and balling up that nauseating feeling in the pit of her stomach, she glared upward.
"Yes, My Queen."
Forced submission.
"Good. Now on your feet and take off your shirt."
It didn't take long this time for the blonde to respond, however, as her fingers worked at the buttons of her blouse she realized that they were shaking. Cursing inwardly at her incompliant limbs, the white cotton finally fell open exposing her bare chest.
Goosebumps littered her arms from the contact with the air and she pulled her arms over her chest. Whether it was from the cold or embarrassment, she didn't say though one might say the latter since the hearth in the room provided a soothing warmth.
Looking over at the brunette who was leaning against the bedpost, she took a few hesitant steps towards her until they were nose to nose. The obedient glimmer in green jewels, never mind whether it was willing or not, was enough to coax the fire within the Queen, but she held herself back as if she were testing her own self-restraint.
An olive hand reached forward and ran down the blonde's stomach, feeling the rise and fall with each passing breath. She cupped her warmth with a delicate hand, only a thin sheet of cotton preventing full contact, and when she did, Emma gasped.
She could see within youthful eyes that the pale woman standing before her had never been touched by another, perhaps only her own hand. She licked her red lips. It was rare to find such a beautiful piece of work untainted.
Deft fingers slowly worked their way past the cotton and into the wetness of the blonde, dipping in only momentarily before sliding out and grazing across her bundle of nerves. A sharp, quivering moan fell out of pink lips.
Regina leaned forward, brush back strands of corn silk, and whispered into her ear.
"I'm feeling rather generous at the moment, dear, so let me show you what I want from you rather than you fumbling your way through."
The younger woman furrowed her brow.
"I don't underst—ah!"
Two fingers slipped inside of her without warning and began a swift pace. Her free hand slipped into golden curls and tugged hard so that Emma would look directly at her. Needing more, but unable to say it, the blonde's own hips picked up a matching rhythm to meet the Queens.
Regina grinned at the soft whimpers that were falling from the woman's lips and she curled her fingers forward only for them to grow louder. Emma's heart was nearly pounding out of her chest and when a thumb ran across her clit her breath caught in the back of her throat.
It didn't take much more before her legs started to shake and she was coming undone from the Evil Queen's bare hands. Right as she tipped over the edge she felt an overwhelming sensation take over her body, one that she couldn't tell was from the work of magic or simply or her own natural reaction.
There was a sense of emptiness when the brunette slipped out of her, so swift as if it had never been, but the faintness of her breath and her grip on the bedpost reminded her such an event had just taken place.
Slender fingers cupped Emma's face delicately with a dark chuckle, loving the way her pale chest and cheeks had reddened.
"Unfortunately you're act of defiance has left me with little time to explore your talents. I have business I need to attend to which I hardly doubt your brain has the capacity for. That being said, clean yourself up and I will have someone fetch you when you're needed."
The Queen moved away from Emma and over to her vanity to make sure nothing was out of place. She was well aware of the eyes watching her, but she paid to mind. When all was to her perfection, she disappeared from the room without a word of departure leaving Emma alone in the Evil Queen's bedchambers.
The blonde sank to the floor, not quite sure her legs could move her elsewhere, as her mind slowly began to fall back into this time and space. The fact that she was the daughter of royalty meant nothing here. She was merely another pretty face.
She closed her eyes and asked herself, not for the first time, what would become of her actions. Her mother was probably worried sick and her father most definitely had the entire army out looking for her, but where would they think to look first? Surely they wouldn't think her to be here? What would they say if they knew of what just happened? Not that she would dare tell them.
The thought of going home was a distant whisper. She didn't want to go home. She came here for a reason, but that motive seemed to have been perverted the moment she stepped into the Dark Palace.
As the fog faded and the dark vines released hold of her core she was brought into an unfamiliar world where shadows danced around her, still far from recognition. However she knew one thing. These weren't just the shadow of others, but her own. A sickening epiphany hit her that she had enjoyed the anger in the Queen's. How could someone enjoy pain? Not only was she trying to pry open the lock to Evil Queen's mind; she was also venturing into the dark, unexplored caverns of herself and for the first time that horrified her.