Slave for a Day

Beth huffed as she made her way to Daryl's tent. The sun wasn't even up yet. She'd made that stupid bet and now she was screwed. They'd made a bet about Rick and Michonne. Daryl said something was going on with them, but Beth didn't see it. She'd foolishly agreed that the loser would be the winner's slave for the day, thinking she was going to win this one hands down. When they'd seen Michonne climbing out of Rick's tent the previous morning, still trying to get her clothes back in place Daryl had given her a smirk and told her to be at his tent before dawn the next morning. So here she was, standing outside, yawning and just wanting to go back to bed.

Daryl walked out of the tent and tossed a trash bag at her. She held it away from her body noticing it smelt like death and blood. "What is this?" she demanded.

"Game bag. We're going hunting." He started to walk off, his crossbow over his shoulder. Beth huffed and followed him. It was too damn early for this. "By the way, you're not allowed to talk back today, and you're only allowed to call me Mr. Dixon."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Didn't know you had a school girl fetish," she muttered so he couldn't hear her. She followed him into the woods, making sure to be extra quiet so she didn't scare away any of the game. While she wasn't thrilled about being his slave for the day, she did want to eat at some point. She followed him through the thorns and briar patches, and over fallen trees. At least he wasn't making her wear a French maid outfit, which he probably would have if they weren't in the middle of an apocalypse.

By the time they got back to camp she was lugging a bag full of squirrels and a few rabbits and he was still complaining about not seeing any deer. She rolled her eyes as she followed him back to his tent. /"Get your knife out." She huffed and sat down, emptying the bag. Together they cleaned the animals they'd brought back and put the meat into a pan that Carol came and picked up eventually.

"Now what, Mr. Dixon?" she asked, purposely adding a little flirtation into his name. Just because she had to call him that didn't mean she couldn't have fun with it.

He shot her a warning look but ignored it. "Get in the tent."

"Yes Mr. Dixon." Beth smirked as she climbed into his tent. He zipped it up behind him as he followed her in. She looked at him and felt her body heat up at the look he was giving her. She knew exactly where this was going and she was so ready for it.

"Take your clothes off," he ordered roughly. Beth bit her lip and swallowed a moan at the sound of it as she pulled her shirt over her head. If there was one thing she loved, it was rough sex with Daryl and she knew that was what she was about to get. She stripped until all of her clothes were in a pile on the floor. She watched him pull his shirt over his head and add it to the pile. He crooked a finger at her and she slowly walked towards him, kneeling when he pushed on her shoulder.

She watched him unbutton and unzip his jeans, slowly pulling his already half hard cock out and stroke it. She licked her lips, her pussy aching to be filled, but she knew what he wanted. His other hand fisted in her hair as he guided her head towards him. Beth slowly opened her mouth and took him in, moaning around him. He was hot, hard, smooth, perfection as he slipped into her mouth and slid down her throat. She swallowed around him, her tongue running back and forth over his length. He growled above her, fisting her hair tighter as his head fell back. He started to rock his hips, fucking himself with her mouth.

Beth couldn't help it; she reached down and ran her fingers over her clit, moaning around him as he used her. Suddenly she was roughly pulled back; he pulled on her hair to the point where it was nearly painful. "Did I tell you to play with yourself?" he demanded, staring down at her.

Beth shook her head. "No, Mr. Dixon."

He growled and released her hair. "Get on your hands and knees." Beth bit her lip as she did what she was told. She shivered as she felt him kneel behind her, pushing her legs just a little further apart. He ran his fingers over her and chuckled darkly behind her. "You're already fucking soaked," he whispered, bending over her, grinding his hard cock against her pussy. "You're just a little slut for me, aren't you?"

Beth moaned and nodded her head, pushing back against him. She loved when he got like this, she didn't mind the names, loved the hair pulling and the way his voice growled in her ear. She needed him inside of her, now, if she didn't get him soon she was going to cry. She felt him slowly push into her and she dropped her head forward, moaning and pushing back against him. "So fuckin' perfect," he growled out, seating himself deeply inside of her. He wound a hand into her hair and pulled her hair as he started to slam against her, his hips creating a brutal rhythm she had no hope of keeping up with. Her fingers clawed at the ground as she cried out.

"Oh, fuck, Mr. Dixon," she moaned, her back arching as he hit the spot inside of her that had her seeing stars.

He growled, his fist tightening in her hair, his short nails digging into her hip. He bent over her, his lips trailing kissed up her spine. "Come, Beth, right now." She bit her lip, moaning behind it, tears springing from her eyes as an intense orgasm shook her body. Daryl grunted behind her as he came deep inside of her. They both fell down, panting for air, their bodies completely satisfied. She rolled to her side, curling against him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her sweaty body against his.

"Love you," she whispered.

He kissed her head. "Love you too."