Risenfromash: Here is the conclusion to Serving the Princess. I wish I could have thought of a better title for this short arc…oh well. Thanks to all of you for continuing to read my spin on a very complicated pairing.
PART III:
Franziska knew that Miles was enjoying ordering her around like she was his pet. She knew all too well how cocky Miles Edgeworth could get when he felt he had something to teach someone, but Franziska knew her brother too well to believe that his enjoyment of this situation was strictly asexual. She knew from his body language that he wanted her and that the thought of her having to submissively do as he ordered excited him.
Perhaps, Franziska mused, it is his turn to be in charge. She did whip him a lot and typically it was she who dictated whether their lovemaking would be sweet and gentle or sensually passionate or simply humping like animals.
Franziska believed that Miles might deserve to be the dominant one periodically, but that didn't mean she would let him be and it didn't mean he would allow himself to be either. Miles Edgeworth conducted himself in accordance with very strict rules of conduct and Franziska was sure that overwhelming a woman in handcuffs was against his boy scout-like code of honor. It wasn't something "Gentleman Edgeworth" would do; he was the kind of fellow to pull out chairs and hold doors open for ladies. Yet, she could tell that the sparkle of the cold metal from her wrists and the expectant look in her big eyes as she waited for his next set of instructions was arousing him. He just wouldn't admit it and she understood why.
With the notable exception of their love affair, prosecutors Miles and Franziska avoided things that bordered on the inappropriate or illegal. Those who victimized women were among their favorite evildoers to prosecute because their crimes were so obviously inexcusable. In many ways even murder seemed more understandable than the abusive partner or random stranger who lurked in the bushes ready to thrust himself upon the next female who came walking by. But this was their own home and Franziska was no stranger. She was his lover and that made an entire world of difference. Miles Edgeworth was simply too uptight to acknowledge it. Hence Franziska's determination to drive him crazy with desire until he finally forced himself upon her. She would be an all too willing victim, especially knowing that his actions would knock him off his self-righteous pedestal, because Miles Edgeworth believed himself to be above such basal things as fetishes.
Cleaning the house like a servant was unpleasant, but the game had begun and Franziska was determined she would be the victor. She was happy when he told her to go collect the dirty linens from around the mansion as it gave her some time alone when she didn't have to disguise her glee at the images that danced in her brain: her brother driven wild by desire grabbing her hips and ramming himself into her with such vigor it was as though he would die if denied access to her warm crevice, Miles yanking on her hair in order to guide her lips towards his erect cock, and Miles Edgeworth's face buried in between her legs, his tongue so deep within her as to not be visible.
Franziska carried a load of linens and towels down to the laundry room and unceremoniously dumped them into a heap on top of the dryer and proceeded to sort the towels out from the sheets as Miles looked around to figure out where the laundry detergent had wandered off to. While he was pondering the mystery of why the laundry soap wasn't in the logical location, right by the washing machine, Franziska seized his distraction as the perfect opportunity to toy with him. When he turned back around from scouring the area for the soap she was leaning over the front of the washing machine her butt waving prominently in the air.
"Miles Edgeworth, I dropped a towel back there behind the machine. Can you reach it?" He stepped forward to assist her and found himself perfectly positioned to take her from behind. He swallowed and stepped back.
"I believe I could more easily reach it were you to step out of the way."
"Oh, how foolish of me," she said coyly as she stepped aside.
He struggled to get the hand towel and then went and got a yardstick and used it to snag the article from behind the machine.
"You should be more careful," he said with narrowed eyes. He knew what she was doing. He could sense the competition starting and he feared he would inevitably lose. He always lost to Franziska; his level of devotion to her seemed to dictate it, but this? This would be a severe hit to his pride. Miles Edgeworth did not find people in handcuffs sexually appealing, or so he chanted to himself.
The problem was the mantra wasn't working. Franziska was always beautiful, but now she seemed more vulnerable and it made him want her all the more. He tried to remind himself that he wasn't that attracted to the female form, but it wasn't working. All he wanted to do was screw her. He tried to focus on the task at hand.
What else did the servant girls do in a day? But his logical thoughts were crowded out of his mind by images of her chained down to the bed taking his organ in every opening she had as she moaned and writhed with pleasure, only the handcuffs preventing her from clawing at his back or scalp as waves of ecstasy coursed though her. Miles shook his head. No, she was in cuffs strictly to prevent bodily harm to him while he reminded her the importance of appreciating one's subordinates. She needed to learn a lesson.
A swat to the rear should…ugh…concentrate! She's doing this intentionally, you know. She's toying with you. You can't let her win.
Miles attempted to refocus once again.
"Good. I think we can take a break for a minute or two."
"Miles Edgeworth, get me an ice cream."
Miles made a face. This seemed like a rather odd demand all of a sudden. "What?" He asked.
"I want an ice cream cone, Fool. Go make me one."
Miles considered her impulsive request strange, but if they had chocolate ice cream in the house it kind of made sense. Franziska tended to have a desirefor chocolate he couldn't understand. It almost seemed like a biological need sometimes and years ago he had been forced to assume it was due to some hormonal imbalance and accept that for her chocolate was less of an extravagance and more of a necessity.
He shrugged. "Alright, darling I'll go see if we have some."
Franziska smiled. "Thank you, Little Brother."
While Miles was in the kitchen Franziska loosened her blouse so that it flopped open a little. It was subtle enough she could claim she hadn't done it intentionally, but it was undoubtedly revealing more of her cleavage than she typically did.
Miles returned with the ice cream and she snatched it from him and started licking it. She was enjoying it so much that she ate it a little too quickly for it to be the prop she desired it to be. She forced herself to slow down her consumption and run her tongue up it, licking it sensually.
"Mmmmm. Miles, this is so refreshing. Would you like to try some?"
He glanced up from what he had been doing to see Franziska seated on the floor holding her ice cream cone to her lips with handcuffed hands and a few drips of ice cream clinging to the nape of her neck.
"It's such a nice treat on a hot afternoon. Don't you think it's hot?"
Miles was feeling hot, both from twittipation and from irritation.
Now she's dripping ice cream on herself and moaning! She's never going to give up until I pin her against the wall and-
"Franziska, I am not an idiot. I know what you're doing and I will not allow you to entice me into forcing myself on you."
"Isn't that an oxymoron, Little Brother?"
No, the only moron is me, for believing I could somehow teach you to behave.
"Really, dear brother, I have no idea what you are talking about. I never took you as someone with a servant fantasy."
"Franziska, don't pretend for one instant that I would partake in such a crude fetish. I'm not like Wright with his damn fascination with waitress uniforms. I am a gentleman! I am merely insuring that your work be completed before I release you."
"Hmph. That sounds very much like something a slave master would say and I know how much you enjoy docking pay."
"Good thing I don't pay you then. Now finish your ice cream without the orgasm. We need to go clean the sitting room next."
~xxxx~
Franziska grumbled as Miles made himself more comfortable by placing his feet on an overstuffed leather footstool as she vacuumed around him.
"You know you should be glad that you have such modern conveniences such as the vacuum cleaner. Before 1901-"
Franziska shut off the vacuum and looked at her brother. She knew that crammed into his brain were a wealth of useless facts, but did he really know when the vacuum cleaner was invented?
Lord, he is such a dork, she thought, but instead of saying so she scolded him.
"Fool, only a man can enjoy a vacuum cleaner."
"Sister!" Her innuendo caught him unprepared and he had no retort other than to be aghast. "I assure you I have never utilized a household appliance for pleasure."
"Well, Fool, after today you may have no alternative but to start." She said waving the drapery cleaning attachment at him.
He smirked at her. "Franziska, none of that now. We both know you have needs that cannot be fulfilled by any of your jellied wriggling toys no matter how many batteries they take."
She muttered under her breath that he shouldn't be so damned sure.
"I was merely attempting to make the point that I could have chosen to have you recreate the live of a nineteenth century scullery maid in which case you would have to tote coal and chop wood and-"
"Our maids do nothing of that sort."
"Precisely. Hence why I am not having you clean out any chamber pots."
"You hand me a bucket of your pee and I'm dumping it all over that magenta suit of yours."
Miles Edgeworth laughed. "Aw, sister! You have such a delightful wit." He was undeniably aroused now. He walked up behind her and placed a hand on her butt and inhaled her scent deeply. He wanted her badly.
"Well, now it's on to the library."
"Miles Edgeworth, exactly how long do you plan on us doing these foolish fool things?"
"However long it takes, darling."
~xxxx~
Franziska stood on the library ladder dusting a shelf of books that extended to the ceiling. Miles stood at the base of the ladder supervising her work and inadvertently getting a great view up her skirt.
"Oh, Franziska!" He murmured as his hand slid up her skirt. They both knew he was beginning to lose control. She could feel the tremoring of his hand that indicated he was restraining himself from an action he very much wished to take. She imagined it was something along the lines of pealing her underwear off and stepping onto the ladder rung behind her to easily access her pussy.
"Hurry up with the dusting," he barked as he turned away from her. "We still have the floor of the wine cellar to scrub."
Franziska nodded obediently knowing that it would be in the wine cellar that she would win. Her victory was so imminent she could taste it.
"Don't worry, Little Brother. I'm almost done. How about you get the things together for cleaning the wine cellar while I finish."
Miles recognized that she was too eager to get to the next task. He knew that meant trouble for him, but he was so eager to get out of range of her tantalizing behavior that he practically ran out of the library.
"Alright, darling. I'll meet you there in a few minutes!" He said as he left hurriedly.
Franziska smiled.
Oh, Little Brother, I will enjoy this.
~xxxx~
Franziska was down on her hands and knees the mop bucket beside her scouring the wine cellar floor with soupy water. Periodically she would turn back to look at her brother flashing her ice blue eyes at him like a snow tiger on the prowl. Each time Miles gulped.
He couldn't take her with the cuffs on. He just couldn't. Their relationship was based on trust and choice. They chose to be together despite the world's belief that their feelings were inappropriate. They chose to give one another pleasure in every way possible. The only thing he couldn't seem to categorize as a choice was how much he loved her and worshipped her. That seemed to have been predestined by God or the stars or some odd twist of fate, but despite that he clung to his belief that the images playing nonstop in his brain were wrong. She could flash those predatory eyes at him all day. It didn't change the fact she was the one in bondage while he was not.
"You know," Franziska said as she worked the scrub brush. "I heard there was a condition servants used to get called 'housemaid's knees' from being on their knees scrubbing the floors for so long."
Miles trembled.
Uh, oh. The dirty talk has begun. Don't give in! But…if this is a game doesn't that mean she wants it, too? Isn't that why high power executives visit dominatrixs? They want to be ' out of control' in a safe environment, haven't I heard that somewhere? Maybe she wants it…she wouldn't really be out of control. After all, only her hands are restrained and she has complete control of my heart…and other things.
Miles recognized that his brain was trying to rationalize the action he wished to take and he knew that was a very dangerous thing. He was well aware that history is full of many great atrocities that have been rationalized by their perpetrators. He and his sister often saw the same phenomenon at work in the courtroom as perfectly 'sane' people explained why they committed heinous crimes. Franziska's own father had undoubtedly been a great rationalizer.
And the last person I want to be like is Manfred, Miles reminded himself logically, yet Franziska continued to make his yearning even worse. She kept gazing over her shoulder at him longingly and with each forward push of the scrub brush she let out a little sigh.
Miles tried to turn away, but he was transfixed by her. He wanted to curse his sister. He wanted to tell her that this wasn't fair. That she couldn't play these games with him, but he seemed to have lost his ability to speak. His mouth was dry. The rest of the world was fading away. All that existed to him was her and her body rhythmically moving back and forth, back and forth. He lurched forward and grabbed her around the waist kissing the side of her neck passionately. She could feel his arousal pressing into her through her clothing; her ass perfectly spooned into his groin like they had been created to fit into one another perfectly.
"Franziska…" he moaned the words as though in pain and she smiled evilly. Her seductive tactics had worked. She was again in charge. She smiled as his hands ran up and down her body yanking on her garments trying to find any avenue with which to come in contact with her forbidden flesh. He felt like he was already near orgasm just from having watched her. Crazy with lust, he felt dizzy and most of the world had gone black. He wanted her. He loved her.
"Franziska, please forgive me, darling." As though possessed he undid his pants. He was too crazed to feel guilt any longer not when her back arched in response to his touch, not when he could feel her breasts bulging out of her top, the nipples hard with excitement. She wanted this perhaps as much as he did. All logic was thrown aside as his hands attempted to simultaneously squeeze her nipples and pull back all of her undergarments. Somehow he managed to clear a path with which to plunge into her and he could smell her aroma so sweet, so musky, so arousing and with one deep breath he pushed himself past her panties and entered her.
She immediately threw her head back and straightened her front arms gripping the scrub brush as she pushed herself against him. She could feel him on all her sides and she gasped. It felt so good. She had wanted this so badly. She had needed it. At first it had been about winning but now she needed the release as much as he did. He was everything she wanted and now she had him despite his adherence to one last societal standard.
He was pounding into her. Their panting the only sound in the room until Franziska let out a wobbling shout of pleasure. The corner of Miles lips went up, but he said nothing as she yowled and moaned and uttered sounds he would ordinarily not have believed could have come out of a person. She came first, her long seemingly never ending moan climaxing in several short pants and a relaxation of her whole body as he felt a gush of fluid around him. Miles caught her body as it collapsed and wrapping his arms around her torso snuggling her tightly as he thrusted into her a few more times. Then with one final grunt he released into her and he eased both of them to the floor.
He was too out of breath to speak but he gave her neck one of his characteristic cat-like head rubs. She was panting too hard to do anything other than to lie there looking the part of a ravaged slave.
"I'm sorry. I-"
Franziska smiled, her eyes still too hazy for her to be able to see straight. "Miles, you worry too much. I wasn't really craving ice cream, Fool."
Miles lips twitched. "I suppose not, darling."
~xxxx~
"So how was the weekend alone?" Helga asked as she bustled into the kitchen early Monday morning her arms laden with some of the week's provisions. Miles head popped out of the refrigerator.
"Quite enjoyable. The house was unusually quiet."
Franziska who was seated at one of the bar stools didn't bother to look up from the morning newspaper. "Fool" was all she said. Miles grabbed a few eggs.
"Helga, I'll be making Franziska her breakfast this morning. Would you like some eggs as well?"
Helga's eyes flipped back and forth between the two. When was Franziska going to erupt? She wondered what Edgeworth had done to the lady of the house to get her to behave but then Helga thought better of it. At the von Karma mansion one learned not to ask too many questions.
"Miles Edgeworth, why are you making me breakfast when the servants are back?" Franziska asked still not looking up from the daily news.
"I feel like doing it."
"You're a fool, Miles Edgeworth." Miles set the breakfast fixings on the counter and walked over to his love.
"I know, darling, but I think the new servant girl worked very hard this weekend and deserves to be taken care of, especially if she refrains from berating Shelby for forgetting to fertilize the apple tree again."
Franziska's eyes bulged.
"Incompetent! Where is he? He's the gardener! Exactly what does he believe his job entails if not caring for our beloved plants? If he let's that tree die I will string him up from its dead branches."
Miles Edgeworth smiled. He recognized her comments for what they were, an empty threat. She might whip Shelby a few times or dock him some pay, but had she been out of control he was sure she would have already been out of her seat chasing the gardener with a lethal weapon.
"I love you, darling."
Franziska flattened her lips and glared at him. "Good because next time the servants are on vacation you will be the one shackled."
"That's fair. Just remember our safe word."
"'Harder? Oh my God?'"
"'Spaghetti' Franziska."
"Oh, yes. I had forgotten. The foolish fool word."
"Mmm hhhmm. That's right. The foolish fool word you could have shouted at any point to make me stop."
Franziska's eyebrow arched. "I must have forgotten it when I was viciously attacked."
"I'm rather certain that was not the case. You do pride yourself on your amazing memory and the fact you do not need to write everything down like I do in my…what is it you call my notebook? My 'man diary' or some such…foolishness?"
"I think you get off on the sight of your own handwriting."
Miles chuckled. "Would you like to go to lunch with me today, darling?"
"I believe I will be occupied." Franziska said. Miles and Franziska very rarely ate lunch or had lunch breaks while at work.
"Such a shame. I hear there is an amazing gelato place that just opened up a block over from the courthouse. They're supposed to have amazing chocolate."
Her eyes flashed wildly. "I thought that perhaps you might enjoy having one and taking a stroll." The look on his face clearly indicated it was not walking that he was hoping to be doing.
Franziska smiled. "I may be free after work."
"Oh, good, because if you weren't available I might have been forced to ask that new servant girl. The one who is so good at scrubbing floors."
"I think she is only available on the weekends, at home."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"But I believe her brother, the incredibly handsome cook is available twenty-four hours a day."
"For you." He said placing an omelet in front of her. "I love you, sister."
"I know…" With a sigh she continued. "And I will try not to bludgeon any one to death. But only for your sake. Incompetent subordinates deserve it."
"That's sweet music to my ears, love."
"Only because you are a fool."