The Gift
X-men Fan Fiction
by Mooncatx
The Bliss Crimson
(A/N - Warning - Things begin to take a darker turn. Warning Themes of BDSM and NC)
With the hard, solid head of the whip handle laid unrelenting against the softness of her mouth, Emma couldn t help but inhale the rich and heady scents of leather mixed with her own very personal excited essence. Electric chills ran like wildfire through her entire body despite the cool press of uncomfortable stone floor beneath her. With Storm s warm knee resting firmly on her back, the former White Queen felt well and truly trapped. With her hands bound behind her, she couldn t even try to push the whip handle away.
Instead she snapped at the offending object, catching it s leather wrapped length in her teeth and pulled her head down, yanking it out of Storm s hand. Before the weather witch could stop her, Emma tossed it away with a sharp twist of her head that made her neck twinge, but the small discomfort was worth it for the sound of Storm s surprised curse. The weather witch would have to move her weight off Emma to retrieve the whip. A small, glow of triumph bloomed in the blonde telepath s breast, but her act of resistance was not without it s cost. Storm s knee shifted away, but before Emma could take advantage of it, a pained cry of distress escaped her as a strong dark hand curled into the champagne pale hair at her nape and yanked her up as the weather witch got to her feet.
That was a foolish, The X-men leader s voice was a mix of irritation and amusement. The first Emma had expected, the second made her wary. Then Storm s voice took on a particular indulgent tone that sent a wave of apprehension through the one time White Queen as familiar words from the past flowed with malicious satisfaction from the soft fullness of Ororo s mouth, The more you fight, the harder you resist, the more this will hurt. I don t want to hurt you my dear. I want us to be friends.
In another time, another place, Emma had said those very words to a captive Storm as she mentally ravished the helplessly bound X-man. Despite the darkly sexual tension that was so tight and hot between them now, or perhaps because of it, the weather witch still held tight to the memory of her brief captivity under the White Queen s not so gentle hands. Wrapped in memories and their ramifications, the blonde telepath couldn t help struggling wildly as Ororo snapped loose the cuffs that bound her wrists together, and reattached them to a ceiling anchored chain. A failed kick later and the ankle cuffs were also attached to their own chains that had enough length to allow her some movement to shift position, but not much else.
Only when Emma was quite secure did Storm take the time to retrieve the lost whip and return to her well displayed captive. The blonde telepath s pale nakedness made an erotically inverted Y, that made the weather-wielding mutant s heart beat faster in her breast. The brief struggle had left them both slightly breathless and the Hellfire Club s one time ruler was still trying to catch her breath while pulling futilely at her restraints. Each effort, as the former White Queen twisted in her bonds threw the fair perfection of her body into high relief against the dungeon shadows. Long time foes, and antagonistic allies they might be, but Storm had never denied that Emma Frost was an extraordinarily beautiful woman.
Seeing her like this though So anxious, furious, helpless and so shamefully, unmistakably aroused, it sent an immediate and fierce ache straight to the core of Ororo s female heat, where she moistened in appreciation and cruel anticipation. She ignored the temptation to run her hands all over the satiny softness of the telepath s ivory skin, exploring Emma s every sweet hill and valley while the blue eyed blonde protested vigorously even as she moaned and sobbed out her pleasure.
No Emma needed to learn a lesson in humility and obedience first. That thought too had it s darkly sweet appeal. A strange excited tension filled the weather-wielding mutant as she ran the length of the braided leather whip through her fingers. The soft white swells of the telepath s bottom trembled as the former White Queen gave a final frustrated yank at her bonds, then stilled as Emma finally stood quietly with a sheen of fear in her eyes, but a practiced sneer on her lips.
Finding your inner dominatrix, Storm? Emma s attempted bravado was nearly flawless, but the flash of vulnerable uncertainty in her pale blue eyes before she pulled her mask fully in place gave her away. I should warn you, to do it well you really have to dress the part.
I don t need the trappings to dominate you, your one time Majesty. Storm s laughter was softly mocking as she slowly circled her the captive telepath. She could feel the tension shimmer off Emma like heat, increasing with each advancing step. When she was close enough to trail the now loose whip over flushed, fair skin, the blonde tried not to tremble as the leather slid in a serpentine caress over her completely exposed and vulnerable breasts.
As the whip brushed teasingly over the tight ruddiness of her nipples, Emma bit her lip to keep from gasping at the teasing sensation made them swell and grow painfully hard. They were still very sensitive from Storm s previous attentions. As if in answer to the blonde telepath s thoughts, darkly graceful fingers reached out to capture one tightly aching bud and pulled it gently, rubbing the tip with a light graze of a thumb. Emma bit harder as sharp, shivery tingles ran from the turgid peak and straight to the heat pooling between her thighs.
Now, I believe we have a little unfinished business. Shall we try this again, or will you need further encouragement?
Once more Storm laid the whip handle over Emma s lips.
Emma glared at the exotically beautiful but unyielding weather-wielding mutant who waited with insufferably serene patience for the telepath s obedience. The captive woman quailed at the possible indignity of having the whip handle simply forced into her mouth if she didn t comply, but she would be damned if she allowed the domineering X-man to believe that Emma Grace Frost was anyone s easy conquest. While a part of her wanted to refuse with mulish stubbornness, she knew that in this she had few if any choices. But she perhaps she could show the arrogant snowy-maned witch there could be obedience in deed but not in spirit.
Meeting Storm s watchful gaze, Emma gave her a look of purest insolence as she delicately extended her tongue. With a slow and heatedly sensual grace she lapped at the underside of the leather wrapped whip handle. She could taste her own unique flavor on the leather, and a hot flush she refused to think about too deeply made her feel strangely dizzy. One wouldn t think that ice blue eyes could smolder, but Emma put a defiant, seething heat into her pale, half lidded gaze and held Storm s silver blue catseye stare while the moist pinkness of her tongue was a soft glistening fascination as it moved sinuously against the black leather.
The blonde telepath stared at the weather witch while caressing the length of it in lingering, seductive strokes. She laved the thickness of it and bestowed a softly wet suckling kiss to the rounded end before taking the handle wholly into her mouth swallowing the length until her lips pressed against the hand that held it. Slowly she pulled away, leaving the length of the whip handle in Storm s hand wetly gleaming in the dungeons dim light.
To Be Continued...