"Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin."
The Queen states quietly, and Emma glowers up at her with her hands gripping the wooden armrests of the chair.
"What do you mean?"
She asks, but she's offered no answer as the brunette simply studies her raptly before turning the tables with her own curious enquiry.
"What's your name?"
She asks, and the younger woman's brow furrows as she replies uncertainly
"Emma..."
"Your full name."
The brunette persists, and green eyes glitter back at her warily as the Sheriff is certain that there must be more to this strange and seemingly pointless back and forth, and waits dubiously for the punchline.
"Emma Swan."
"Is that your given name?"
"No..."
The blonde replies, frowning deeper as what comes next seems to escape her lips without her consent.
"My given name is Emma. I appropriated the name Swan by choice as a child. I was given no last name."
"I see."
The Queen nods, enjoying the look of confusion that finds pale features; momentarily erasing all traces of darkness from the Saviour's face and rendering her once more familiar. Once more the uncertain, less than sure of herself young woman she had been when she'd first come to Storybrooke. She'd tried to hide it of course, but the Queen remembers many occasions when stuck in her old body where Regina would push all the right buttons and play her hand to leave Emma looking just as nakedly uncomfortable as she does now.
Nakedly uncomfortable... Well, the literal display also lived up to expectations.
"What is your profession?"
She continues, and the younger woman answers her without missing a beat, although her lips have formed an uneasy curve as she studies her captor distrustfully.
"Sheriff."
"Are you good at your job?"
"No worse than could be expected given the circumstances."
"And what circumstances are those?"
"The job doesn't exist. Not really. It was part of Regina's original lie. I've done my best to uphold at least some of the expectations proposed by the title over the last couple of years, as my initial objective is no longer relevant."
"What was your initial objective?"
"To piss Regina off."
"I thought it was to provide Henry with a positive role model?'
The Queen muses, and Emma frowns as she means to tell the brunette that she'd meant to say that as of course that's why she did it, but the words that tumble out of her mouth beg to differ.
"That was part of it, but not all of it. Not even most of it... I wanted to beat her."
The blonde confides, before biting her lip uncomfortably as though to keep any further revelations trapped inside. Regarding the darker woman nervously, she asks her in a quiet voice
"What did you give me?"
"Never you mind."
The Queen shakes her head with a small smile, leaning in and addressing Emma with her nose only an inch from the Saviour's own.
"Why was that so important to you? To best Regina?"
"She thought she held the winning hand, and she was arrogant with it. She made my life hell and I wanted to return the favour."
Emma snarls, and the darker woman smirks as she muses upon this last answer, before asking quietly
"And now? What do you think of Regina now?"
Silence follows as the blonde grits her teeth, trying desperately to keep from answering. It's a topic they have covered several times already, but the Queen is curious to know how it might be answered now that Emma has no option but to answer truthfully.
After all, the serum she's swallowed makes it impossible for her to do anything else.
"She's... She's my best friend."
The younger woman replies finally, the words seeming to force their way past the clenched barrier of her teeth, and she eyes the brunette reproachfully, but not without a hint of surprise as she has never gotten around to fully confirming this fact for herself. The Queen looks similarly taken aback; arching a cruel brow as she studies the Sheriff intently.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. So? What of it?"
Emma growls, pointing out irritably
"It's not all that weird. We've been through a lot together."
"I suppose you have."
The brunette agrees silkily, and she catches a ripple at the blonde's throat as she appears highly uncomfortable in her current predicament.
Good.
"Why are you asking me all this?"
Emma hisses, glaring up into dark coals that glitter with promise, and she shifts restlessly in her seat. She had come here hoping that the Queen might show her some of the roughness she had down in the dungeon; hoping for release and a firm reminder that she plays with evil, and not the altogether more confusing version of the brunette back home.
"I wanted to know."
The darker woman shrugs, before pushing back heavy curls with her fingers spread out within soft silver; pushing Emma's head back so that she's forced to meet her deviant stare.
"What else do you think about Regina? What do you think about her that you don't want others- the pirate- to know?"
"...I think things that I shouldn't. I think about what I might like to do to her. Not all of the time, but sometimes. Sometimes I think about it too much."
"And what is it, dear? What is it you'd like to do to her?"
"Fuck her."
Emma replies with a curious wince as the words come out, and she shakes her head as though to try and disagree with her own admission.
"Yes? I believe you mentioned you'd pictured a scenario- several scenarios- while lying beside the pirate... What about when lying beneath him?"
"Regina..."
"Yes, dear. Regina. Do you think of her when allowing that buffoon inside you?"
The Queen pushes on, laughing maliciously when Emma cringes away from her and wrinkles her nose in response while knowing it will do the younger woman no good.
"Several times."
The blonde chokes out, and when the darker woman grins and leans in to dig deeper, she shakes her head again; willing the Queen to desist in her dangerous line of enquiry.
Needless to say, her wishes go cordially ignored.
"Did it help? Did you find your release?"
"Quickly."
"Wonderful!"
The Queen cries as she relishes the scarlet blush that paints pale cheeks, and she stalks over to the bed and takes a seat; regarding the Sheriff with a wicked smile as she primps her hair.
"Did you feel guilty afterwards?"
"... No."
"No?"
She raises a brow curiously, studying Emma with her finger held to full lips.
"No... I liked thinking about her that way. I knew it was a bad idea, but at the time, while still feeling good, I wouldn't get too caught up in beating myself up over it. I'd just be agitated the next day."
"How so?"
"Because, Regina would inevitably come and find me at some point to shoot the shit, and I'd think about how I was ruining our friendship by thinking about her the way I had the night before."
"Interesting... You seemed uncertain when I pulled your admission that you might view her inappropriately out of you back in Storybrooke."
The Queen muses, and Emma tosses back long curls as she replies honestly
"I was uncertain. I don't make a habit of analysing my baser desires or thoughts, and your trickery asked that of me. You wanted me to admit whether or not I felt something between us, and that's not the same thing as asking me if I sometimes use her- your- likeness to speed along my pleasure."
"Hmm, you word it almost as though you have trouble relieving tension when faced with Hook alone."
"I get bored easily."
The younger woman replies tersely, and she simmers as the brunette waits for her to continue; not enjoying this act of gross divulgence in the slightest.
This isn't what I came here for. I came here so she could let me have it... So she could punish me.
And she is.
Just not in a way I'd like...
Sighing, Emma elaborates sourly
"I like Hook, and the sex is fine. Sometimes it's great and sometimes it's not... His reactions suggest his own enjoyment is a little less fickle."
"You need more..."
"Yes."
The blonde replies simply, and the Queen nods as she enjoys the irritable look the younger woman throws her, and she goes back to the topic they had touched upon briefly back in the dungeon; leaning forwards to expose ample cleavage, and asking the Sheriff curiously
"You said you'd done this before... Stood bent over against the wall for me. You said it wasn't your first time."
"It wasn't."
"You've had girlfriends?"
"No."
"But you've had female lovers..."
"Yes."
"Many?"
"Three."
"How did that come about?"
"The same way anything comes about."
The blonde frowns, and the Queen sighs as she alters her wording to pull an answer from the younger woman that she's unable to refuse.
"Your first experience with a woman, how did it come about? What happened?"
"It was a girl I knew. Evie. I knew her through a mutual friend... I liked her, and we were all out at this carnival; one of those travelling shows that sets up and leaves. They had a kissing booth, and I made some kind of comment- I don't remember what- and rather than roll her eyes or seem weirded out by it, she gave me another kind of look... A daring look, I guess. Anyway, there was this horror house ride where you sat in a little cart on a track and it took you around this pitch-black house where images and mechanical things would flash and pop out to give you a scare. It was kind of lame, and the cart moved so slowly that it set my teeth on edge. Then, all of a sudden, Evie's got a hold of my hand and she's pulling me out, into the darkness, and I'm following her with my other hand held out in front of me so I don't smack into a wall or a piece of scaffolding. We found a corner, and I wasn't entirely sure what she might want from me, but I hoped it was something like what ended up happening."
"And what was that?"
"She kissed me. Not the way I'd kissed girls in the past as part of a game or a dare, or because we'd each had too much to drink. She kissed me in a way that made me think there was more to come, and I was right. She grabbed my hand in hers again and pulled it into her, guiding it down the front of her top so that I wouldn't spend any time doubting the situation... That was good because I do that sometimes, I get in my head."
"You surprise me."
The Queen mocks with a roll of her eyes, and when Emma glowers at her, she makes a motion with her hand that the blonde should continue. Of course, the veritae serum only works to make the consumer incapable of lying, but the intensity of her stare does the rest. She is also aware that the younger woman appears more comfortable telling her current tale than she had been when asked to answer questions about the Mayor and Hook, and she makes a note to swing the conversation back to a topic that will really make the bitch squirm.
Still, the control is nice... After what she did.
"I felt her up. I hate that term of phrase, but it's accurate for what happened. I was curious, as well as turned on."
"How turned on?"
"Very."
"Were you wet?"
The Queen asks, and she watches green eyes lower as this seems to be another term of phrase Emma is less fond of, and she can tell that the younger woman yearns to answer her with sarcasm and insolence, but she is stuck only with the truth.
"Yes."
"What then?"
"She put her hand up my skirt and pulled aside my underwear. It wasn't great what she was doing- I'd had better- but it was exciting. I think part of that was the dark and the fear in the back of my head that the lights might get switched on or something."
"The thought of getting caught excited you?"
"... Yes."
"Have you ever been caught?"
"Yes, but not then."
"And it still serves as a turn-on, as you call it?"
"... Yes."
"You surprise me."
The Queen repeats her previous statement, but this time without the heavy dose of sarcasm, and when Emma eyes her uncertainly, she shrugs and adjusts her position on the bed so that she leans back against the support of her palms, displaying herself appetisingly.
"You're a private person, I know that much all too well."
"Maybe that's part of it."
The blonde suggests, and when the darker woman raises a brow in a bid for an explanation, the younger woman concedes without being coerced.
"I'm not a psychologist by any means, I actually have very little time for all that junk, but I do have a theory, and I don't think I'm alone in it. I think it happens more often that people's kinks clash with their personalities. It's like how terribly shy girls make the best dominatrixes."
"That is... A curious little piece of knowledge to have, Saviour... I suppose it's a little like how one who so often feels the need to claw and fight her way to the top may be perfectly content to lie submissive when it comes to pleasure..."
The Queen suggests with a small smirk, referring to the blonde's unfortunate position on the dungeon floor, and Emma takes the bait lazily and reminds the brunette
"I told you, I gave you that one."
"That doesn't render my statement false."
"... No."
The younger woman agrees, lashes flickering as the Queen rearranges her crossed legs, and the latter grins at her knowingly.
"So, how did it end, your tryst in the dark with that girl?"
"She got on her knees and I saw stars. Again, more due to the situation than her skillset."
Emma finishes off, and the brunette laughs huskily as, while she knows the blonde has no choice but to answer honestly, the pragmatic approach the younger woman will often take in recounting events doesn't fail to tickle her, just as it had done Regina back when they had been one.
"As titillating a tale as that was, dear, it hardly paints the same picture as being forced up against a wall and being taken advantage of..."
"I said there were three."
Emma replies silkily, and the Queen nods as she drinks in pale features with ever greater intrigue, but she is done demanding stories from the wretch as it seems tales from long ago don't render the blonde the squirming mess she'd hoped they might. Pushing herself up off the bed, she stalks over so that she stands once more leant over the younger woman with her nose an inch from the blonde's.
"You know, it's funny, Saviour. I had wondered at first whether your reluctance to play my game was due to the sapphic nature of giving in to what we both now know were obvious desires. But that's not it, is it, dear? I don't even believe it's down to your relationship with the pirate... What I think it comes down to is your fear of allowing yourself something you've deemed forbidden."
"That's never stopped me before."
Emma points out, her expression hard and her statement honest, and she bites at her lip as the Queen wets her own.
"...No, because I would bet that in previous situations, you've been the prize. You've known it was so."
"I don't know what you mean."
"No? Well, I suppose I must believe you when you say so under the current circumstances, but I'm surprised, dear. For a relatively smart woman, you can really be astonishingly stupid at times... I have high standards, yet I clearly find you somewhat interesting and desirable, else we'd be done with all this by now. Most people do not possess the fine taste that I have, and so I would presume they might find you even more impressive... You know, don't you, dear, that whatever you might want, at least in a carnal sense, you can most likely have... Am I wrong?"
"No. I know."
The blonde agrees, blushing slightly, but raising her jaw just the same and offering the Queen a cool stare.
"But with Regina, that's not the case, is it? With Regina, you're not sure whether your darker urges would be appreciated, and that makes you uncomfortable. It makes you feel small."
"I never allowed myself to analyse my thoughts about it too deeply, I told you."
Emma replies through gritted teeth, wanting to tell the darker woman that she's wrong- so wrong- but unable to lie, and thus forced to accept the truth for herself. The brunette smiles in response; an unkind smile that gives her a predatory edge.
"You look uncomfortable, Saviour... You answered my questions about your little fairground dalliance with barely a stutter, yet I ask you something comparatively simple about Regina and you can't quite keep your voice steady... You don't like it when I ask you about her, do you? About me, about her... About any of this?"
The Queen demands, pulling at the binding to her corset to allow it to fall open a little; displaying yet more flesh as she stands over the blonde.
"No."
Emma replies, trying to look away, and the brunette finds her jaw with cruel fingers and forces her to maintain eye contact.
"You keep reminding me that I'm not your version of Regina, but you're struggling, aren't you, dear? After all, we're identical, we are one, and all motives aside, our mannerisms are the same. Yes, you may not wish to share a morning drinking coffee with me, but that's not what's on offer, is it? What's on offer is what you want, and I felt it, dear; I felt you shiver so wantonly beneath me while you were picturing me not as the Queen, not as your rival, but as Regina. You're confused... Conflicted... Tell me, why did you come and seek me out when you must have known I'd be out for revenge?"
"... I wanted you to fuck me... As the Queen. As the Evil Queen. I wanted you to hurt me and treat me the way you did back in Storybrooke. I wanted to remind myself that you're not her, you're not Regina, because you're right; I do fear the way I've been feeling about her recently."
The blonde is forced to admit, and she narrows her eyes dangerously as the darker woman smirks down at her.
"You don't like to feel foolish, do you, Saviour?"
She purrs, and the younger woman rolls her eyes, but her lips spill out the simple truth.
"No."
"No... And, really, who could blame you? I don't suppose many people appreciate feeling foolish- feeling small- but for you, it's so much more than just an aversion. You hate it... Oh, I could ask you why. I could ask all sorts of things about your past and the events that might have led to you being the way that you are. At a guess, I would say you've had your hopes up one too many times only for them to be disastrously shot down. Potential foster parents pulling out. Children at school playing nice before finding out that you weren't like them, you weren't one of them. Scenario after scenario of allowing yourself to be vulnerable and paying for it dearly... Feeling the fool is an all-encompassing ordeal for you, Saviour, and the one thing you will do everything in your power to avoid... What's wrong, dear, you look uncomfortable?"
The brunette widens her eyes with false concern as Emma shows her teeth in a primal display of rage; unable to tell the bitch that she's wrong, and unable to pull away without conceding defeat.
"You came here looking for some sense of closure; some way to put your busy mind at ease... But where's the fun in that?"
The darker woman muses coyly, and she closes her eyes as she once more adopts a softer guise; smiling down at the Sheriff with bright eyes no longer heavy with makeup and lips no longer painted harsh scarlet.
"Better?"
She asks sweetly, and the younger woman lowers her eyes as she hisses angrily
"No."
"Oh?... That's not very nice."
The Queen sighs, adopting a hurt expression as her fingers move from the blonde's jaw to her hair to play through messy curls gently. Her face is kind without the theatrical darkness adorned by the Queen, and her hair hangs soft and natural down to her shoulders. Still, she remains clad in sinful leather partially released, and Emma swallows as this is somehow worse. Worse than when the brunette had played this hand wearing nothing but a smile.
"Stop this."
She pleads quietly, but she knows it will do her no good.
"Oh, I don't think so..."
The brunette shakes her head, before moving with careful consideration of the chair's armrests so that she sits astride the younger woman's lap, regarding her patiently- almost affectionately- while inwardly relishing the way Emma seems suddenly incapable of looking at her.
"What do you want, Emma?"
"For you to stop this."
The blonde replies honestly, but the Queen smiles as she knows all it takes to play the game her way is sparing a little more thought to how she chooses to word things.
"You and I both know that's not on the cards, dear, so answer me this; what do you want me to do to you? Sat on your lap as I am."
"I want you to get off."
"Hm... Maybe so, but that's not all, is it? Do you want me to kiss you?"
The Queen asks quietly, and she can see a battle playing out across the blonde's face. She knows that both 'yes' and 'no' constitute honest answers, but one carries just a little more truth, and she smirks when the younger woman replies through clenched teeth
"Yes."
"See?... Not so hard."
She replies softly, leaning in and capturing the blonde's lips gently before applying a little more passion to her kiss. Still, she keeps it affectionate rather than dominant, refusing to give Emma a hint of reprieve.
"What about my hands? What do you want me to do with my hands?"
"... Touch me."
"Where?"
"Everywhere..."
"So demanding."
The brunette smirks as she complies; delving one hand into thick curls while the other drags salaciously up the younger woman's stomach, before dipping down between leather-clad legs.
"Do you want me to take these off?"
She whispers against parted lips; tracing her nails roughly over the dark material, and the younger blonde shakes her head as she grips the armrests tightly, but replies
"Yes."
"Yes, I can well imagine. Not the comfiest choice of wardrobe, although I do appreciate what you were going for, dear."
The brunette muses with a conspiring grin, much as Regina will often throw Emma when the two bicker with one another and toss out barbs with the silent hope they will be dealt back in kind. She wrestles with tight leather for a moment, before simply flicking her wrist and rendering the blonde bare; garnering herself a small yelp of surprise.
"Better?"
She asks again, and Emma looks away as she mutters
"Yes."
"So? What do you want me to do, dear? What would you like from me?
She asks, taking care to keep everything about herself redolent of the Mayor. Careful to rub in the fact that for all intents and purposes, Emma plays with her version of the brunette as the line between them has become lost and complicated.
"Taste me."
The younger woman replies in little more than a whisper, and the Queen nips her lip wickedly as she teases
"You want another kiss?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"Get... Get on your knees."
"You want me to taste you where I shouldn't?... Where maybe you've imagined me tasting while sitting in my office, Miss Swan?"
"... Yes..."
Emma agrees, closing her eyes, and the brunette grins as she slides down between slender legs and pushes them further apart.
"How badly do you want this, Sheriff?"
She asks, using her power to bring about a glamour resembling the Mayor's office back in Storybrooke, and she catches a groan from above her as Emma opens her eyes only to squeeze them firmly closed once again.
"There's no use doing that, you've seen it now, it's on your mind."
The Queen reasons pleasantly, and she chuckles darkly as the younger woman hisses 'bitch' with bitter rage.
"Now now, play nice, dear... And tell me the truth... What do you want? In this place, in my office, from me... What do you want? Do you still want me to-"
"-Fuck me."
The blonde demands huskily, and the Queen smirks victoriously as she complies for just a moment, tasting for herself just how badly the younger woman means what says, before bringing her hand down smartly against wet flesh and pulling away.
"What... What the hell are you doing?!"
Emma demands after a choked cry in response to the harsh slap to her sex, and the brunette smiles as she looks down at her, standing once more with her hands on her hips.
"Playing my hand, dear... After all, you said yourself that you sought me out for punishment."
"Yes, but..."
"But what?"
"I..."
"No, go on Saviour. Say what is it you mean to say. What has you sputtering so ineloquently right now?"
The brunette asks, knowing that if it were any other situation, Emma would simply tell her where she might like to shove certain ideas and instruments, but the serum has yet to wear off, so the blonde answers truthfully to earn herself a low breath of laughter.
"I wanted you to punish me my way... Not like this. I thought if I came to you, you would reprimand me with pain."
"I see... Well, the thing is, dear, I do believe that this has worked a lot better than if I'd done so. I certainly feel a little better... Nowhere near wishing to form a truce, mind, but less agitated now that I can see how uncomfortable you've become... And do you know something else? This is something I picked up on back when stuck with my lesser-half... I think you might appreciate this..."
"What?"
Emma demands, knowing full well that she absolutely will not appreciate what the darker woman has to say.
"When you went dark before- when you went all power-goth and premenstrual on everyone- you held back a little when it came to me. Oh, you did the same for Henry, so I suppose I shouldn't feel overly special, but you held back on me a little... Even though you asserted that so much of what happened was my fault..."
"What's your point?"
"My point is that several times now you've threatened to kill me and warned me that you would obtain the upper-hand... And I'm still waiting."
"Daniel-"
"-What about him? What you did was cruel and despicably low, Saviour, but take a look at where we currently stand, you and I. Would you really call that winning? I have you at my mercy, full of delectable little details I can coax from you with simply a couple of words, tellingly wet, and waiting for release."
"I can handle it."
Emma shrugs, and the Queen raises a brow as she's surprised that this must still be what the blonde sees as the truth. Sighing irritably as she'd been hoping for a greater reaction- begging, for one- she takes a seat back on the bed and studies the younger woman who remains bare and on edge in front of her.
"Can you?"
She challenges, and when Emma nods boldly, she curls her lip into a malicious sneer and flicks her wrist to emit an unseen veil of magic she has only used on one occasion before now.
Oh, but what an occasion...
Smirking, she recalls the way her servant had kicked and writhed on the floor as she'd laughed and reaped her enjoyment from their frustration.
"Uh..."
Emma mutters as she twitches in the chair, and she closes her legs together tightly with a tic to her jaw.
"What is it?"
The Queen enquires, although she knows... Of course, she does.
"I feel weird."
The blonde replies uneasily, not having meant to say anything, but she still only holds a certain amount of control over her responses and she glowers at the darker woman accusingly.
"Bad?"
The brunette asks, and Emma shakes her head, swallowing as her previous arousal resulting from the Queen's teasing has intensified alarmingly, and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat as she answers quietly
"Good. Really good."
"Hmm... Well, that doesn't sound much like punishment to me."
The brunette frowns theatrically, before giving another flick of her wrist to send enchanted roped snaking around the chair as if from nowhere, binding the younger woman to her seat. The rope is bright white and narrow, but Emma quickly learns that innocuous looks can be deceiving, as with each panicked movement her restraints grow tighter, seemingly impervious to both her magic and her strength as she begins to panic.
"What the hell?!"
She snaps, her breathing audible as she suffers a most peculiar series of sensations in her lower abdomen, and the darker woman smirks as she appreciates the way the ropes have tied the blonde's ankles to the chair legs to keep her thighs partially spread; allowing her to observe just how efficiently her little charm is doing its job of keeping the Saviour cruelly on edge.
"What's wrong? Isn't this what you wanted?"
The brunette asks; still wearing her better half's guise as she studies the Sheriff from beneath dusky lashes.
"Fuck..."
The blonde hisses, jerking in her restraints, and the Queen pushes herself up from the bed and begins slowly unlacing the ribbons of her corset.
"Isn't this exactly what you want?"