**I updated to make a minor but important correction. At one point Emma has on a thing that would prevent her from doing a thing and then a few sentences later she's doing the thing. I fixed it. All better. Carry on.

They were relaxing quietly on the back porch in the beautiful weather gazing out at the sea when Emma gave him the look.

"We can't, pet. You and Regina are cutting the ribbon at the new theatre today, and then you've got that big speech, remember? We have to start getting ready soon, in fact."

"I do remember," Emma turned to face him and cupped the front of his pants. "Why do you think I've been rehearsing the speech so obsessively all week long?" She breathed in the scent of him mixed the sea air. "I'll need to recite it no matter how distracted I am."

Hook's eyes darkened, both impressed and aroused. "You've been planning this?"

"Mmmmmm," Emma sighed. "I'm not fond of the ceremonial aspect of Princess life. I thought being your Toy for the day would make it bearable."

Hook jerked her hand away from his half firm cock, pinned both hands behind her back and drove her against the porch railing.

Emma shuddered, flashing back to the days when it took him a few minutes to warm up.

He gave her arms a solid tug. Not enough to hurt, but enough to elicit a quick, eager noise. "Have you got yourself off to the thought of it these last weeks?"

"Three times," she replied. "No, three and a half. One time Mom and Dad dropped by unexpectedly and by the time they left I had to get to work."

"Poor Swan," he chuckled, dripping smug. "Must have been awkward trying to calm yourself down while they chattered away."

Emma swallowed as she felt him grow against her hip. "I told them I'd been doing a shitload of push ups."

Despite the fact that their rented home was on the waterfront, 'on the waterfront' did not mean 'a few steps from the beach.' Also, if one was wandering the beach, they'd have to squint through piles of boulders and random foliage to get even a halfway decent look at Emma's back porch, much less discern any activity.

Hook was wearing regular clothes, but she was dressed in a black bikini with a matching thigh length beach robe.

"Even though we're unlikely to be seen by anyone at all -" he tightened his grip on her wrists and hovered over her mouth as he spoke, "I'll spare you the indignity of being stripped naked and fucked right out in the open."

"Thank you," Emma whispered, politeness being an implicitly understood rule of the game.

"It's not for you!" He growled. "True, it keeps your dignity intact, but my primary motivation is - and listen carefully because you seem to have forgotten . . . " his fingers dove beneath the waistband of her bikini and ghosted circles around her clit, his touch so delicate as to completely clash with the forceful tone of his words. He knew how much such contradictions turned her on. "On the off chance anyone did somehow catch a glimpse of you fully naked, then they'd have seen something that belongs to me! My territory, my treasure!"

His tender touch changed without warning when he plunged two fingers deep into her and thrust aggressively, each thrust timed to emphasize his words. "I. Will. Not. Share. You!"

Emma clutched his shirtsleeve for support while he held her hip tight in his hand.

Not that the hook ever impeded me, he thought, but it is convenient to have two hands at my disposal.

Much to Emma's dismay, the fingers inside her ceased to move. She closed he eyes as if to mourn the loss, but Hook ordered her to look at him, so she met and held his unwavering stare.

"You are my pleasure. My obedient, stunning plaything." His tongue darted out and slid through her pliant lips for hardly a second before he withdrew.

You're teasing me. She bit back a whine. Please keep going.

His thumb began to massage her clit and the cadence of his voice changed from aggressive to the spoken equivalent of the black silk around her shoulders. A shining, slippery spill of darkness.

"A pirate shares his plunder with no one, Swan. . . nooooooow . . . " his eyes raked over the length of her body, drinking her in like the finest quality rum. "I've no issue with other men being treated to the sight of your legs . . . or the slope of your back, your midriff, even the swell of cleavage." He ran his tongue from the silhouette of her breasts to the base of her throat, then pulled away. "Even if a man should gaze a bit, or sneak a second look," he withdrew his fingers from her completely in favor of gripping her ass with both hands and pressing her against his hardness. "Honestly, it flatters me. That other men may only admire a mere hint,just a taste of what is mine." He grinned and slid the robe down one shoulder, then lunged in for a sharp bite.

Emma shuddered and gasped.

"What I get to take home and strip bare," his hands went beneath the silk garment and yanked the bikini bottoms down to mid - thigh, "fuck senseless and command to whatever service I desire." He hoisted her up and sat her on the railing, careful to arrange the robe so it spilled over the railing and obscured her ass. "Let's push those legs out a bit," he mused as he tugged her bikini bottoms completely off, pushed her thighs apart, and positioned himself closer to her ready center.

She said nothing, but he could read the look on her face.

"I said I wouldn't strip you naked and fuck you out in the open." He paused and watched her realize the technicality while he undid his belt. "There are so many ways to fuck a woman without stripping her bare."

She jerked and drew in a sharp, shaky breath when he took himself out and rocked against her, is rigid shaft sweeping through the length of her sex.

"Of course such methods are usually employed with common harlots or whores in dark alleys." He kept rocking, but refused to enter her. No. Instead he guided himself to press against her clit with every upward sweep. "What would you prefer, Emma?" he asked, never taking his eyes from her face. "To be lain down on our cozy bed and gently wooed whilst I undress you? Or to be claimed right here as you are, taken in whatever manner I please?"

"Right here," Emma insisted, panting as just the tip of him slipped inside her. "Right here!" It took all of her self discipline not to buck her hips and force him deeper.

"Hm. Like a whore?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"No pride at all?"

"No!"

He curled one hand around her throat and pushed her mouth open with his own, demanding her tongue participate in a volley of power. While the kiss was more than pleasurable, she did not fail to notice the feel of him moving deeper inside her.

He ripped free of her mouth and hissed, "well here's what that feels like."

She gripped the railing to keep from tumbling off the edge and clutched his waist with her legs as he granted her request.

Not a rapid - fire thrust.

But deep. And selfish. The kind of thrust that made her whole body lurch. The kind of thrust that fulfilled her expectations of a playmate and then some.

"How shall I pay you?" Hook rasped against her ear as his right arm wound around her back so she had something to lean against.

"What?" She whimpered, half - lost in a fog.

"A whore - ah! Trades sex - for - for - fuck! . . . "for money!" He gasped and quickened his pace when she leaned in such a way as to help him stretch her out rather than just advance and retreat. His voice warbled and shallowed. "What is your fee?"

The head of his cock started to drive into a highly sensitive spot with every forward thrust, and pleasure wracked her body too powerfully to respond to his question for a moment.

"Cock," she finally whispered with great effort. "S'all I need." She panted. "Yours. Please. Pay me. Pay me!"

He growled obscene praise for her unparalleled lust as he came, ranking his nails over her flesh. The sting made her even more wet than before he fucked her. He didn't wait for his body to recover before he zipped up, yanked her off the railing, and switched their places.

"Knees. Now." He leaned back and crossed his arms and legs as she lowered her wobbly body. He regarded her silently for a moment. "Decisions, decisions," he mused, drumming his fingers on his arm. "Part of me is imagining those lovely thighs covered in nice dark marks . . . " He continued to drum his fingers. "Letting you suck me is out, I need to recover . . . " he leered down at her. "Maybe later if you beg hard enough."

She opened her mouth to plead, but Hook cut her off.

"I said later!" He barked. "Your listening skills had better improve, you know what I expect!" He pushed himself off the railing and started to circle her like a hawk. "Maybe it's been too long since we played . . . maybe I need to re - train you . . . "

Train?! Her ears perked as well as her posture. That's a pet word. Leash? Is he going to leash me? She visualized herself being walked back indoors on her hands and knees, her eyes fixed to the ground.

Hook noticed the change on her demeanor right away, and stroked her head as though she were indeed a pet. "Lay on the ground, knees up, legs spread . . . " he waited for her to get in position. "Close your eyes and take care of yourself." He didn't wait around to make sure she obeyed before walking back into the house and sliding the porch door closed behind him.

God I'm wet! It has been too long since we played!

By the time Hook returned her back was arched and her mouth open as if preparing to take cock.

"Keep going," he commanded softly as he crouched next to her

She heard a soft clink and felt a cool, narrow strip of leather slide beneath her neck.

Collar!

She increased pressure on her clit as that familiar, beautiful throb began to build in her gut.

Hook's delicate hands fastened the collar around her neck.

She sped her pace and massaged herself aggressively while she waited to hear the clatter of a leash being clasped on. Instead what she felt was two of Hook's fingers curling through the collar.

"Stop." The word wasn't growled, or hissed, or yelled. Just stated calm as a breeze.

She was so close that it physically hurt her to do it, but orders are orders. Her hands had barely settled at her sides when he jerked her into sitting position. She made the mistake of intuiting the next step on her own, without a direct order and crouched onto all fours, and was punished for it.

"My God!" His arm came across her back at an angle and forced her down as if she were about to be arrested. "It has been too bloody long since we played!"

Her cheek was pressed to the porch, and she could feel his hot breath against her ear when he bent down to quietly scold her. "No words. Nod yes or no. Is it your place to make assumptions?"

She shook her head no.

"Unless I specifically allow it, do you get a say?"

She shook her head no.

"Do you at any point presume to contradict me?"

No.

"Should you pay for your violation?"

She nodded yes.

His arm left her back and he lovingly nuzzled her jut beneath the earlobe. "That was the correct answer, Swan. You may be unruly," he bit and tugged her earlobe. "And a bit of a cock junkie. But you are intelligent." He ran his tongue over the soft flesh he'd just bit. "Intelligence gets me harder than the tightest pussy ever could.

She stifled a whimper as he grabbed her collar again, this time pulling her into full standing position.

"Here's how you pay," he said, his voice returned to darkness as he held her collar at the back and steered her through the house and into the bathroom. The crop and his cell phone were displayed across sink cabinet. "Bend." He pushed her forward. "Hands in either side of the sink, palms flat."

She watched herself in the mirror while she did as she was told.

The hand at the back of her neck clenched harder and he leaned close to her ear again. "I was going to hurt you a bit more before we got ready." He grabbed ahold of the crop and threw it out the open bathroom door. "Nope. That's out." He picked up the cell phone and held it so close to her face it took up almost her entire field of vision. "I was also going to try a little something new." He paused to make room for a silent drumroll. "Instead of setting this up on a stand to film my generosity, I was going to make you hold it and film is in the mirror . . . I had it all planned out . . . Mmmmmmm," he sighed as he breathed her in. "Hold it as still as you can, Emma . . . I want you in frame at all times, Emma . . . if you drop it . . ."

Her breath shallowed as she waited for him to continue.

"I'll not lay another finger on you for the rest of the day but I'll make you watch from across the room every time I get myself off."

Panic flooded her eyes.

"Don't worry," Hook purred with a gentle kiss to her temple. "You've not lost my touch . . . or my aggression." He kissed he again. "You'll just be attending the opening with a pristine ass is all."

"Thank you," Emma sighed. "I want so much more."

"I know," he said as he released her neck from his iron grip. "I've never met a woman with such an immodest libido." He paused and ran his fingers through her hair. "You may stand up."

She stood and they stood snuggled together like any other couple. Doe eyed and gazing at one another. His one hand in her hair, the other resting at her midriff while she caressed his arm.

"Let's just see . . ." He whispered as the hand at her midriff began to travel south. "How we're doing." He wiggled his fingers beneath her bikini bottoms and palmed the soaking heat between her legs. "That's what I like to feel." He grinned. He withdrew his hand and held it before her face. "Lick."

She went to work, never taking her eyes off the mirror.

I am awesome! She thought. The abundant taste of her slick arousal on his hand helped distract her from the annoyance of losing the crop.

"We both need to get ready, so it's going to be a while before I can tend to you properly," he explained as she ran her tongue over the terrain of his palm. "But rest assured you will work for my benefit at this event." He gazed at her while she finished cleaning his hand. "Right then," he practically chirped. His voice bearing no trace of their gameplay. "Hair up. Up and sleek, that's all I require, the makeup is your call. I'll go pick the dress."

He pulled her into a long, meandering kiss. "I do love that taste," he whispered against her lips.

An hour later they were standing together in front of a full length mirror in the bedroom.

Hook had picked her out a simple smoky grey dress with short sleeves and a scoop neck. The dress wasn't tight but it did flatter her figure.

He wore black pants and a dark red long sleeved shirt (V neck of course. Emma could count on one hand the number of times she saw him in any other style.)

Nothing fancy. It was a theatre opening, not a night at then Opera.

He kissed her temple and gave her a medium sized white handbag. "Keep this with you. Standard necessities plus blindfold, change of panties, and the tiny vibrator. Listen for your phone, I'll be texting you instructions now and then."

He clapped when Emma and Regina held the giant scissors and cut the ribbon together. Meandered and chatted with everyone in the lobby before they all were ushered in to the main stage theatre. Since it wasn't a fancy enough occasion for reserved seating he made sure to loiter near the door so he could be one of the first ones in and claim a front row seat. Granny and Archie ended up being the only two people sitting between him and Emma's parents.

The order for the speeches was: 1)Gippetto, since building the theatre was his idea in the first place. 2)Regina 3)Emma.

Now for the fun.

The lights were dimmed and a spotlight shine bright on Gippetto, so it was easy for him to subtly slip his phone from his coat pocket unnoticed and hold it low.

Emma was waiting in the wings behind Regina mentally running through the lines of her speech when she got the text.

Put it in. And when I start it, you had better move your body for best use of the thing. I know you know how to.

"Psst!" She tapped Regina on the shoulder. "I need to duck out for a minute. I'll be back in a minute." She grabbed her purse and dashed to the ladies room.

Done. She texted back in less than a minute, squirming with anticipation. What now?/

Return to your place and wait.

Emma wondered if his heart was really in it this time.

Nothing happened for the rest of Gippetto's speech. And nothing through Regina's.

Then Regina handed the floor over to her. The moment the spotlight hit her she felt a barely discernible, continuous quiver between her legs. It stopped when Regina finished introducing her and she stepped up to the podium.

"Hi," she smiled. "I'm so glad you all could make it, thank you. And thank you again to Gippetto for the wonderful idea, and all the generous -"

Hook brought his thumb down on the control and slid it to maximum when she said the word. She'd rehearsed the speech so many times he knew it too, and he had a pretty good idea of when and how hard to play her. He bit back a grin when she curled her fingers tight around the edge of the podium and continued, masking her surprise as enthusiasm.

"Such generous support from all of you with your fundraisers. Granny," a smaller spotlight found Granny. "We can't say enough about your pies, we really can't, they're the best."

Another strong, drawn out pulse. Granted she was behind a podium, but Hook still watched her carefully to make sure she was doing her best to manipulate the toy inside her

Gooooood girl.

"And everyone who participated in Storybrook High's art auction. Very TALENTED -" she gripped the podium. "TALENTED YOUNG PEOPLE!" She applauded. "Hey, who bought the ceramic dish set?"

"I did!" A guy seated in the middle row raised his hands.

Emma smiled and pointed in the direction of his voice since the spotlight obscured her vision. "You sir, outbid me," a gentle laugh rolled through the crowd. "But we're good. I can take it."

A series of rapid fire burst.

She chewed her lip playfully, and he knew her body well enough to discern the twitch in her shoulders that always accompanied a shiver down south.

Quite the actress, Swan. If he didn't know better, he'd assume her playfulness demeanor was the result of her innocuous banter.

"Keep the dish set, I'm not greedy."

He eased back on the pace, but slowly accelerated intensity as she went continued.

"This theatre is proof of -" she cleared her throat. "Of what a great . . . town Storybrook is. We take care of our community." She cleared her throat again and he knew from the way she shifted her weight that she was obeying her order. Doing her all to work the lively toy against her most sensitive spots while trying not to betray her arousal. "Ahem. Sorry. Throat's a little dry."

Hook decided to be nice and hit pause while she took a sip of water.

You're smart enough to know it's not over, Emma. Of that he was sure. He knew his woman, especially when they played. Even an attentive partner had to be doubly so with this sort of thing.

She drew a deep breath. "We come tthh-through for each other. Work together. We're a team." She got a lucky break when everyone clapped in praise of Storybrook, and she had a moment rally her poker face even as she held her legs close together and felt the ripple in her strong thigh muscles climb higher and clench around her proxy for Hook's skilled hands or cock.

Stop. Picturing. It. She scolded herself. She couldn't stop imagining them fucking somewhere backstage. Or better, her naked and stinging, biting back cries as he wielded the crop. No sympathy, no quarter, no - goddammit, stop picturing it.

The applause ended far too soon and she was forced to mentally multitask.

In the prop room. Below the stage . . . A lot of productions involved a character seeming to rise out of or fall through the ground, so under the stage was like it's own little room with a bunch of trapdoor access points.

STOP, STOP STOP!

I am impressed though, Princess.

"I'm lucky to have you all. Really lucky." It looked and sounded like sentimental emphasis. One had to look and listen close to pick up the subtle differences.

Or know her like I do, Hook thought, allowing himself a touch of arrogance. You clueless sods think she's just moved as hell about this place. He knew she was truly proud of the new theatre, but he also knew her whole body was aching to cum.

"You've been so good to me from the moment I came here . . . thankyouandenjoytheshow!"

She rallied and managed to make it offstage without wobbling as the High School band began to play. Hook rose from his seat to meet her in the wings. No one would question him going to congratulate her on the fine speech and soothe her slightly worked up state.

He sped the thing to its quickest pace, met her backstage, and immediately brought her into a tight hug. The band was playing too loud for even nearby people to hear anything he whispered in her ear.

"Spectacular, love." He placed a hand on her lower back and pressed her close enough to feel his hint of hardness beneath the strategically loose pants. "Do you know how hard I'm working to stay soft?!"

She pressed her mouth against the crook of his neck and whimpered.

"Calm yourself enough to walk and don't you dare cum until I allow it!"

"Of course not," she promised, despite being dripping wet.

Thank you for the change of panties, Hook. This pair is going to reek of sex by the time you're done with me.

"I wouldn't."

Emma had been so keen to follow every step of the construction process, Hook had many times walked through the building by her side at various stages of completion, so he knew there were at least three tiers of rafters backstage. The top tier well obscured to anyone on the ground.

"Top tier of the rafters," he rasped. "Bring your purse."

A hand operated lift took them to the top. Hook didn't count. It may have been three three tiers, it may have been a thousand. All he knew is, it was pitch dark. His eyes had to adjust to the dark before he could see that there were a few lightbulbs here and there. Probably just bright enough for the actor to see a bit.

He pushed her to the ground as soon as they stepped onto the narrow plank. Just wide enough to accommodate their side - by - side bodies. "Remove the toy."

She obeyed.

"Your purse."

She held it up for him to take.

"Close your eyes.

It didn't take a genius to figure out he meant to blindfold her.

"Crawl. Forward." He ordered in his coldest tone.

She had no idea how far she'd crawled when he grabbed the back of her dress and yanked her into kneeling position.

"So elegant. . . "

She could here the clicking of his shoes as he paced semi - circles around her.

"So adored by her public. If only they knew how filthy you are . . . "

A rush of arousal shot through her when she heard him unzip.

"What do you suppose they would they think, hm . . . ?"

"That . . ." she swallowed, hoping she gave the answer he wanted. "That I'm a whore."

"Exactly." Hook stroked her hair lovingly, as though he'd taken her on the most romantic possible outing. "And whores don't request. They receive." With that his hands fisted in her hair, officially ruining her sleek hairdo, and his cock plunged into her mouth. Not that she was surprised by the move, his words had made the plan rather obvious, but his pace was much faster than usual.

A challenge, she realized with a tingle. Sometimes they liked to push the boundaries a little. To see if the parameters had moved. She honed in on nothing but the master in her mouth, and timed her suck and release to the pace of his thrust.

"Hold still," his hissed, massaging and tugging her hair at will. "You're a wet hole, do you understand? . . . and you may touch me now.

She whined against his hard, pulsing flesh as her hands went to his shaft and balls as if magnetic force compelled her?

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh," he breathed. "Your talents . . . " he couldn't finish the sentence.

He fucked her throat until he came with a rattling hiss, admiring the sight of a few drops of cum rolling down her chin. Her hair was an absolute rat's nest by the time he finished. "You've done so well," he whispered as he softened and withdrew from the warm cave of her mouth. "I was going to end the game here -"

"What?!" She kicked herself as soon as the word escaped her lips. You accept when he gives, Emma! Sub 101!

A low laugh rumbled out of his chest. "I'll forgive that flagrant violation, dearest. Just because my body is wanting, and you have earned full credit. We'll play a while longer."

She shuddered with relief.

He smiled. "You deserve a reward for today after all, and I am no tyrant. So instead of a. . . closing curtain so to speak, we shall take an intermission." He grabbed her elbowcans pulled her to her feet. "Let me think . . . "

Their standard pause method was to tape or tie up the pet and have them sit somewhere in the house until Owner was ready to play again, but Hook felt like stepping out of the box.

"Here's what you're to do Princess - and listen carefully because I will not repeat myself. When we get home I will give you the car keys. You shall fetch me my favorite cigar - you know the ones - a bottle of scotch," he took a wad of bills from his pocket and shoved them into her bra. "The best scotch." "He was still partial to rum, but for some reason top shelf scotch sounded better to him. Maybe the rich amber color subconsciously struck him as sexier, he didn't know and didn't care.

He took a moment to lick the tantalizing slope of her breasts and undo her hair before continuing.

"When you get home you will change into the lingerie of choosing while I smoke my cigar. Crawl to my feet and wait until I finish my cigar, and when I'm done you will do . . . ?"

"Whatever you want," Emma replied calmly while Hook smoothed down and brushed her hair with his fingers.

She changed her panties and they both returned to casually mingling with the crowd. Hours passed before they pulled up in front of the house. As promised, Hook handed over the keys and strolled up the driveway.

Cigar and scotch. Black and silver bodice with garter belt, thigh highs, no panties, and lace up stiletto boots. She figured it was the perfect combination of sexy and badass.

Meanwhile, Hook had mastered his role well enough to push her delicious appeal out of mind when she was of sight and collect his energy. He snacked on a handful of potato chips and thumbed though one of Henry's magazines. Artful Science Digest. While he had no intention of utterly usurping Neal, his feelings toward Henry were fatherly enough for him to feel a rush of pride at 'his boy's' obvious intellect and creativity. Most other young lads were surely not avid readers of things like Artful Science Digest.

His sentimental the reverie ended when Emma came home.

He was strewn across the couch, and Emma came and knelt at his side and set a small paper bag on the coffee table.

"Sixteen year old Aberlour," she purred. "And your favorite cigar. Should I serve you or go get dressed?"

Hook considered the question, surprised he hadn't thought of the detail in advance.

"Bring me a tumbler with two ice cubes," he decided. "I'll handle the cigar."

He sipped and and smoked in leisure while he listened to Emma get ready.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," he let out an inhuman moan when she returned to the room, her hands behind her back.

He sat up straight and stubbed the half smoked cigar out in his impromptu astray, otherwise known as a seldom used coffee mug (neither of them indulged in cigars often enough to merit owning an actual ashtray.)

"You're brilliant," he mused. "Turn around."

"I hope you don't mind," she purred when he saw that her hands were actually handcuffed behind her back. "I am technically wearing them." She looked over her shoulder at him. "You can think of them as bracelets that get you hard . . ."

His partial hardness did grow noticeably.

" . . . Or if you'd rather put me away for -"

"Come here!" He growled as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Undo my pants and stroke."

He tore his shirt off, removed her handcuffs, and poured a light rain of scotch over her body as she unzipped and withdrew him. He let her stroke him for as long as he could stand, then instead of pulling her into his lap and demanding she ride him, he slid to the floor and spun her around so her lower back was pressed against the couch, her legs spread wide at either side of him.

"You look delicious," he said as he licked trails of scotch from her breasts and shoulders. "How do I pay for the meal?" he asked, revisiting the theme from earlier in the day.

"Mmmmmmm," her head lolled back.

He ran his tongue over her abdomen, picking up more scotch tails as he went.

"How?" he whispered.

"M - m - more cock."

He surged into her the second the words cleared her lips. "Am I kind?" he panted as he thrust.

"Yyyyy," she whined through clenched teeth. He took it as a yes.

"Generous?"

"Ah - h, h, huh!" The answer came shallow and halting.

The game demanded selfishness so this time he skipped her clit all together, and clawed at her ass as he swelled inside her.

"Bloody! . . . Oh! Bloody . . . right! I! Am!" He came with a rattling moan, and still mustered the energy to suck a dark mark into the base of her throat while afterglow seeped in.

"Damn," Emma sighed when he finished his work.

At that moment it dawned on her for the first time that she and Hook were a month away from their two year anniversary. Then she flashed back (for the first time in a long time) to all the weeks she'd spent agonizing over whether or not to tell him the deep dark secret of her fantasy.

And there they were. Crumpled at the foot of the couch, covered in the smell of scotch and sex, and she'd never been happier in her life.