#And her behaviors. She does the pit sit with her legs all splayed like a butterflied chicken

[lionblaze03-2]

Oh btw I’d you hate pit bulls based on only the fact that they’re ‘pit bulls’ dni and unfollow me. PAINFULLY serious I will not accept dog racism on my blog

[kirieshhhka003]

Can you do headcanons of fem! Illuso scissoring a female teammate in the mirror world? However, if you're not comfortable writing genderbents then that's fine l0l

A/n: omg I miss writing for lesbians sm, so here I fucking am. So basically all of La Squadra members are females here, idk why, I just felt like this

Pairing: fem! Illuso x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, pussyeating, scissoring, masturbation, fingering, squirting

Word count: 2,3k

It’s unbearably boring. You’ve spent at least 20 minutes just walking around La Squadra’s base and it’s still 30 more minutes until ye meeting starts. You and your fiancée Illuso decided to leave your home an hour before the rally, considering horrible traffic of Naples. But much to your surprise it took you less than 10 minutes to arrive, and now you both were supposed to wait for other members to gather

You are not the only ones who have arrived too early - Prosciutto, unofficial mom of hitman team, is already at the base, getting everything ready for the meeting, waiting patiently for others to arrive

Suddenly you feel Illuso’s hand wrapping around your waist from behind, her soft lips brush against your ear shell as she whispers lecherously:

- I want you, - those three simple words send herds of shivers running up and down your spine. Bright blush dusts your cheeks in a matter of seconds and you feel your heart starting to race into your chest. You furrow your eyebrows nervously, glancing at your fiancée over your shoulder

- Right here? - you ask, your throat feels desert dry and you swallow heavily but it doesn’t seem to help. You see your girlfriend nod affirmatively, wide leer stretching her shiny from lip gloss lips. - No, we can’t! What if we’re getting caught? - you utter, trying to be as quiet as possible so your colleagues are not able to hear what you two are talking about

- Baby, sometimes you forget about what I’m capable of. Y’know, that kinda hurts, - Illuso says as her lush lips form into a cute pout, but the glimmer of mischievousness in her eyes betrays her actual intentions

You shift from one foot to the other, looking around, trying to figure out how much time will it take for all La Squadra members to arrive to the base. You hear your beloved tsk behind you, annoyed by your suddenly timid behavior, and her hand that was previously resting on your waist slowly comes higher. You hold your breath, secretly expecting her to give your chest a playful squeeze, but girl only slightly brushes her fingertips against the bottom of your tit, shamelessly teasing you

- So what? - she tuts mockingly and you bite down on your lower lip, looking nervously at Prosciutto sitting in her favorite armchair, reading some magazine she’s found on the coffee table standing in the middle of the meeting room

- Okay, fine, - you give up and hear Illuso humming approvingly at your response, fully satisfied with herself

You clear your throat and refer to blonde female:

- Pros, we’ll take a walk around. There is still time before the meeting starts and we’ll check if there are any possible enemies around, - you gibber, and she looks intently at both of you, condemning look in her beautiful sapphire eyes, as if she knows what you two are planning on doing

- Okay, but don’t be late. We’re not gonna repeat ourselves if you two will be late and miss something, - female replies in her usual stern “teacher” tone, then turning her eyes back to the colorful pages of fashion magazine she’s been reading before

Immediately after Illuso grabs you by your hand, leading you to the bathroom, and you obey happily, already feeling warmth emerging in the pit of your stomach. You don’t even notice when brown-haired teleports you into the mirror world, but once you’re there she presses your body against the cold surface of the wall, her lips find yours, kissing you deeply, smearing both of your lipsticks on your cheeks

Your hand comes up to rest on Illuso’s nape, carefully not to ruin her hair, knowing how much girl hates that. She wastes no time, unbuttoning your wine-red shirt and taking it off of your body, her greedy fingers undoing hooks of your bra, exposing your soft chest to her hungry gaze. Illuso immediately busies her hands with your tits, softly moldings and jiggling tender flesh between her manicured fingers, making your nipples harden in a matter of seconds

- C’mon, - she says, taking your hand into hers and leading you out of the bathroom

- Where are we going? - you ask, trying your best to catch with her temp and not to crash on the floor. Once Illuso makes your way to the meeting room she pushes you softly so that you fall right on the soft cushions of sofa, placing her knee in between your splayed legs, grinding it against your groin, making you whine softly at her actions

- It would be hella uncomfortable to fuck you in that tiny bathroom, don’t you think so? - brown-haired drawls teasingly, her hands come to the waistband of your jeans, in a few experienced moves undoing the button and a zipper. - Take off your shoes and the rest of the clothes, - your fiancée orders and you’re quick to obey, doing as you’re told, soon sitting on the couch totally naked

Illuso wastes no time, taking off her dress and a bra, carefully hanging her clothed on the armrest of the armchair standing next to the couch, revealing her lithe curvy form to you, her lacy thongs are the only clothing that covers her body from your eyes

You whine softly, spreading your legs wide, giving Illuso a great view of your already wet pussy. Your hands come up to grab on your own breasts, playing with erected buds, making the fire in your stomach grow bigger. Brown-haired girl chuckles sonorously at your impatience, kneeling before you, placing both of her hands on your thighs, gently caressing your skin

You slide to the edge of sofa so that your groin is now closer to Illuso. Girl’s smile only gets wider at this and she places a few wet kisses on the inner sides of your thighs, making you tremble from anticipation. Despite her aspiration to tease the hell out of you brown-haired remembers about that scarce time you have to yourselves. She lowers her head, taking a first wide lick of your throbbing sex, parting slicked folds with her smooth tongue, making you squirm under her caresses

Illuso fully gives in, nestling her pretty face between your legs, pleasuring you with her skilled tongue, turning you into drooling goo in a mere minutes. She’s always like that when it comes to pleasuring you with her mouth - wild and unbridled, eager to bring you as much pleasure as possible. Most of the times she edges you to be end, eating you out for hours straight without letting you cum, and only when you beg so prettily for orgasm she takes pity of you, finally making you cum that hard that stars start blurring your vision

You try to muffle your wanton moans by nibbling on your fingers as you feel your fiancée slipping two of her slim pretty digits into your clenching heat, all while she licks and suckles on your labia and clit

- Hey, take that away. I wanna hear those precious sounds you make, - Illuso chides softly, her eyes look up at you with displeasure. You obey, taking your hand away from your mouth, crying out girl’s name oh so sweetly when she closes her lips on your throbbing clit, giving it a generous suckle, and she hums approvingly at this, sending mild vibrations running through your cunny

You feel your high quickly approaching you as Illuso harshly fucks your cute pussy with her fingers all while playing with your swollen clit. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for your climax to come, but suddenly brown-haired stops everything, pulling back from your crotch, making you whine and buck your hips upwards to get more of her attention

- Not so soon, honey. Lay on the couch and spread your legs wide, - Illuso orders, lovingly smacking one of your thighs. You comply unwillingly, slightly disappointed that your fiancée didn’t let you cum. Brown-haired takes her panties off, discarding them to the side and joining you on the couch

She crouches over your splayed form, kissing you deeply, messily tangling her tongue with yours, and you can taste your own juices on Illuso’s lips. Her hands grip on your breasts, kneading and playing with the soft pudge and you lean into her touch, arching your back off the couch, bumping your naked abdomen into Illuso’s and the feeling of her skin right next to yours drives both of you crazy

Brown-haired straightens her back and you let out dissatisfied grunt, wanting female to stay close to you for a bit longer. She gives you a mischievous smile, throwing one of her legs over your body so that she straddles one of your thighs with hers, leaving mere millimeters between your glistening pussies

She fidgets a little, trying to find more comfortable position, aiming her leaking pussy to yours. Soft sigh leaving Illuso’s lungs as she finally sits herself atop of you, clits rubbing tightly together. You grip on Illuso’s hips, squeezing her buttocks slightly, trailing your fingers up and down her thighs, causing goosebumps to rise on the smooth surface of her pale skin

Illuso starts rocking her hips back and forth, starting on a slow pace, gradually quickening her juttings. Your swollen little clit strokes right against the inner part of brown-haired’s thigh and so does hers. Girl tips her head back, letting out a loud wanton moan, this sound makes your heart flatter. Illuso tightens her grip on your knee, pressing her pussy tighter onto yours, making you squeal like a bitch in a heat

Your gaze falls on the polished surface of the mirror hanging on the wall right in front of the couch your fiancée scissors you on. You see Prosciutto and Formaggio discussing something vigorously with Risotto and Pesci listens intently to the chat between her colleagues. Wait, they can’t see you, right? Right?!

You quickly forget about that as brown-haired expands one of her hands to your tits, groping on your tender pudge, tugging on your swollen nipples what sends electric shocks running up your spine. You whine and rock your hips back softly, meeting Illuso’s thrusts, making the contact even more pleasurable

- Fuck, baby, more more more. Pleeeease, - you squawk, and Illuso gladly obliges, fastening the jutting of her hips, bringing you closer to your high with every movement

The curl of tension in the pin of your tummy snaps and the next moment you feel warmth suffusing your whole body. You cum with a loud cry of Illuso’s name on your lips, whole body trembling as she keeps on tribbing her clit against yours

Brown-haired let’s you ride out you orgasm before letting go of your leg, she sits herself in between your still splayed open legs, one hand comes to her groin to pleasure her swollen clit. Your eyes follow her every movement - she didn’t get off, but she definitely doesn’t plan on staying dissatisfied

You extent your hand, reaching your lover’s slit, slipping three of your fingers inside of Illuso (surprisingly or not they come in without any resistance, you know brown-haired can fit something way bigger inside). You start ramming your hand on the rapid speed, mercilessly fucking your fiancée’s pretty pussy, unapologetically hitting her g-spot with every new thrust

By the way her thighs start to tremble you can say that she’s close to her own climax. Just a mere moments later thick mewl escapes Illuso’s lush lips as her whole form starts shaking. You feel her gushing on your fingers, covering your exposed pussy and inner thighs in her love juices. You hungrily watch your fiancée squirt all over your body - wow, you didn’t expect that. But that’s definitely a highly pleasant bonus

- Holy shit baby, you’ve made a mess, - you chuckle, watching your beloved getting off her high, her stunning body still slightly trembling in aftershocks from recent orgasm

It takes you about 10 minutes to clean yourselves up and make each other look at least presentable. You look at the wall clock, suffering a bit to understand what time it is since everything is mirrored. Excellent, there are a few minutes lest before the meeting starts

You make your way outside of the base while still in the mirror world so that it won’t be overly obvious when you two come back from your “patrol”. Once you get inside of the base you meet face to face with Prosciutto. Both you and brown-haired freeze in place, not expecting to meet with any of teammates that soon

- So? - Prosciutto asks, her arms are crossed on her chest and pretty eyebrows are furrowed as she looks sternly at both you and Illuso. Your fiancée shrugs faintly, turning her gaze away, letting you know that she doesn’t intend on helping you with this conversation. You look angrily on your beloved but quickly divert your attention to the blonde standing in front of you

- What? - you query, having no clue what your colleague may possibly want from you

- Enemies. Did you find any? - Prosciutto explains, and by the tone of her voice nor look on her face you can’t clearly understand if she scoffs at both of you or actually being serious. Your mind fumbled with any answer, but your brain still can’t work properly after your recent orgasm

- Oh, yes, um… there are none. We’ve looked through every possible place they could’ve hidden, but didn’t find anyone, - you stammer out, hoping that blonde beloved you and won’t ask any more questions. She only hums quietly, satisfied with your answer, then sharply turns around on her hills, sashaying towards the meeting room

- Good. Now go, we’re starting in a few minutes

You can’t help but sight in relief at this words. God, the meeting hasn’t even started yet and you already feeling like a squeezed lemon. You glance on Illuso and by her half-lidded eyes you can say that she feels no different. Well, you just gotta hold on, and you feel like the next few hours will be pure torment for both you and your fiancée

Masterlist | Smut Masterlist

[theoppositequeens]

here she comes with a master plan

Written for @helnikweek2021 Helnik Week 2021 Day 2: Jealousy. Title from Andreas Johnson’s “Glorious”.

Rating: M

Summary: They barely make it inside the door before Matthias slams Nina into it, pressing his body against hers, and kissing her senseless.

"I really don't like you flirting with others," he rasps into her neck.

Read on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32266099

here she comes with a master plan

"A beer, thank you, handsome" Nina smiles indulgently towards the barkeep, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers.

"Not two?"

The man lifts an eye-brow and tilts his head to where Matthias sits, almost out of earshot.

"Oh no," Nina giggles, "my brother is so dour and uptight. But I want to have fun."

Matthias grits his teeth and focuses on the chessboard in front of him.

They are posing as brother and sister again, which is slightly awkward, but forging papers is a mess. They take what they can get, even on the Ravkan side of the border. Still, Matthias swallows hevaily as he watches Nina cosy up to the man behind the bar, trailing her fingers flirtatiously down his arm when he hands her the beer.

They suspect the barkeep is handing over information to the Fjerdans about which Fjerdan citizens have fled to or visited Ravka. Many people passing through – and many Ravkan spies posing as Fjerdans who reported to their handlers here in this port town – have been arrested immediately on return to Fjerda, never to be seen again. Some of the Grisha refugees have been taken by undercover drüskelle on the Ravkan side. They must have been tipped off.

This is just one of many nights to come when Matthias will watch over Nina, as she flirts her way into the barkeep's good graces to hopefully find out something. It is already testing his resolve, and he turns his gaze resolutely away when Nina leans over the bar, pressing her ample bosom into full view.

It is not the first time they have used this tactic, but Matthias hates it.

He's never thought of himself as particularity possessive, but then again the Fjerdan women he imagined himself with are demure and wouldn't flirt with others. The thought of Nina flirting with others, of men looking at her and touching her...

It makes him see red.

Nina is the only thing in this lifestyle of theirs that is his. His name, his clothes, his face, his behavior, they belong to his current cover. But Nina is his, his constant, his to touch and love and cherish. And he is hers.

Jealousy does not suit him well, but nonetheless it lingers in the pit of his stomach, ugly and twisted.

-----

They barely make it inside the door before Matthias slams Nina into it, pressing his body against hers, and kissing her senseless.

"I really don't like you flirting with others," he rasps into her neck, aggressive but not angry, not really.

"I know," Nina says gently, at contrast with the way she entwines those clever fingers tightly into his hair – tailored, curly, dark brown - and shifts her leg over his hip, pulling him closer. He crowds her against the solid wood, unyielding and insistent, and she moans when he rocks his hips against the cradle of hers.

"Want to to take you here," he says, tugging at her earlobe with his teeth and pressing kisses down her throat. "Make you scream until you forget everything but me."

"Yes, Matthias," Nina gasps, throws her head back and bares that white throat to him. It feels powerful, somehow, and he kisses by the neckline of her dress, rucking up her skirts and swearing when they tangle. She laughs, and he turns that sound into breathy gasps by dragging his fingers over her slick heat. Matthias has made a study out of learning Nina's body, and he brings her ruthlessly to the edge as her arms clutch him. It takes a little while, women are not as quick as men, but he can be patient. Feeling the tremors in her body and her hot breath against his cheek as she moans her pleasure keeps Matthias sated until she peaks for him, her mouth forming a pretty ring and her arms going slack.

"Such a good girl," Matthias murmurs. "My pretty red bird, you sing so beautifully for me."

He lifts her, unties his pants just enough, and enters her steadily. She is pulsing around him, aftershocks rocking her body, and it feels sinfully good. She gasps weakly, but rocks against him, and he knows she loves it when he fills her while she is still coming. He gives a couple of slow thrusts, and then sets a punishing rhythm.

"You are taking it so well, darling," he croons into her ear, kisses her nose. She mumbles something that sounds like agreement, but is still all too quiet for his taste. "Let's make you scream."

The angle is awkward, so he carries her over to the kitchen and sets her down. She whines at the loss of him inside her, but he kisses her, gently, and spins her around to lean over the table, pulling up her skirts. This positions is easier and leaves his hands free. One of them sneaks beneath her to play, and he runs the other questioningly over the swell of her ass.

"Yes," Nina tells him.

"Yes? Alright then." He smiles, enjoying the sight of her splayed on the table, and strikes sharply. Red wells up on white skin, a clear handprint. "Look at that. Such a pretty mark. Are you mine, Nina?"

"I am, I am," she reassures him, and he fucks her roughly as a reward. She indeed does scream.

He never thought he'd be one for talking during sex, but Nina quickly proved him wrong. She loves his voice, loves it when he talks to her, and the words come spilling out so easily. At first he was embarrassed afterwards, but soon he got used to it. Sometimes, he likes to see how wet he can get her just by whispering in her ear what he will do to her. Sometimes, like today, he likes to call the shots in the bedroom. It rarely happens, but watching Nina flirt with others always brings out this dark part of him that wants to claim her, to remind her who she belongs with. He will likely make love to her slowly later, kiss all the sore spots that doors and tables have caused, but right now he takes her, profanities and endearments falling from his lips.

Finally, they collapse, sweaty and tired, and with some last energy reserve he carries her to their bed. She curls up against him, always cuddly after sex, and he strokes a wet strand of hair from her face.

"I love it when you are jealous," she murmurs. "It almost makes me want to flirt with others just for the sake of it."

"No," Matthias says, like a pouting child, and she laughs, low and throaty.

"But maybe I like you like this," she says, her eyes twinkling. "You could be rougher in bed more often, so then I won't have to try that strategy."

He mumbles something noncommittal, but secretly agrees that clashing tempers and wills with Nina in bed is fun, and playing the games she teaches him is indeed quite enjoyable. Perhaps he will have to play at being jealous more often, if Nina also enjoys it so much.

Then again, considering their mission with the barkeep, it is likely he won't have to pretend.

[belsiox-blog]

pairing: mahad/mana rating: n/sfw warnings: b/dsm, c/onsensual nonconsent, p/orn

Maybe she deserves it when he shoves her to the ground.

Or maybe—and this sounds much better—it’s Akhenaden’s fault.  It all starts with a meeting.  A very boring meeting led by Priest Akhenaden, a very boring man.  And it’s about taxes: a subject Mana barely understands even now that she’s a priestess herself, but knows enough about to know it’s very boring.  Honestly, what was her mind supposed to do besides wander to other, better topics?  And is it really her fault that Mahad is her favorite topic by far?

He’s sitting next to her, his fingers steepled under his chin as he listens attentively to Priest Kalim’s very boring counterpoint, and Mana finds herself gazing at those fingers with fondness. Long, skilled fingers to twirl his staff like a dancer’s baton, or conjure up flame in the palm of his hand—or press deep inside her while she cranes her neck and arches her back, that same fire blooming in the pit of her belly as he tortures her with slow, hard thrusts.  Patience, he would tell her, brushing the tip of his thumb over her clitoris, watching with the barest hint of a smile as she shook. Patience, Mana.  Good girl.

And when he gave her his cock—which he’d only do when he was satisfied with her begging, soft and fast and desperate with tears starting at the corners of her eyes—he would lie back on the bed and beckon her with a finger, and then hold her by the hips and direct her movements as she sank down, thighs trembling, her bottom lip between her teeth as he filled her.  

Or maybe—maybe not so gentle.  Maybe he’d pick her up and toss her over his shoulder while she pretended she didn’t want it more than anything, kicking her feet and pounding her fists against his back, and then throw her face-down onto the bed, push her skirt up and ram himself inside her while she shook her head no, no, no, with her mind singing yes, yes, yes.  Maybe he’d force her onto her knees with her hands bound behind her—no magic, just a simple strip of cloth—and then slide his cock into her mouth, breathing a low, heavy sigh as she eagerly sucked.  Maybe he’d prefer to kneel instead—he might sit her down at his desk, assign her reading from some rudimentary spellbook, and then listen with happy little hums as she stumbles over the words, struggling to concentrate with his face buried in her cunt.  He might bend her over the mattress and take her that way.  He might tug on her hair as she rides him, her arms quivering as she leans back on her hands, giving him full access to her heaving breasts.  

He might, he might, he might.  As Priest Shada chimes in with his opinion, Mana looks sidelong at Mahad and hopes that when this blasted meeting is through, he will.

But as the thing drones on, and on, and on, the priests’ voices sounding more and more like flies around a honeypot, Mana decides she might as well—expedite things a little bit.  It’s very innocent at first.  A soft bump of her heel to his shin, a sweet smile when he glances her way.  But patience isn’t her strong suit, and the muscles in his arms are taunting her with how badly she wants to grip them for dear life as he fucks her.  Her hand disappears under the table.  Ever so gently, she puts her fingers on his knee.  When Mahad starts talking again, Mana lets those fingers dance their way upward, until she’s touching his hip and rubbing the bone that juts out there. To his credit, his voice doesn’t even waver; he just goes on about the need to increase wages and taxes in tandem and doesn’t react to her hand as it sneaks over the firm muscle of his thigh.  Then, just as she’s about to put the teeniest bit of pressure on his cock—Mahad’s hand suddenly closes around hers, and he squeezes, hard.  A warning. Stop right there.  Don’t proceed any further if you know what’s good for you.

Fortunately, she does.  When Mahad lets go, Mana presses the heel of her hand between his legs, and he actually sighs out loud—loud enough that he gets a glare from Set, who probably thinks he’s reacting in boredom to his father’s financial genius.  Mana takes her hand away and props her elbows on the table to rest her chin in her palms. Mahad’s eyes flash to hers, and the message in them is clear: You are going to pay for that.

She hopes her response is just as obvious.  I sure hope so.

“Priestess Mana,” he says when Atem adjourns the meeting, and she leaves the hall like she hasn’t thoroughly soaked her underpants.  She turns at the sound of her name, arching an innocent eyebrow.  “There is a matter I would like your help with,” Mahad tells her. “Won’t you come with me and lend a hand?”

She knows better than to think it’s really a request.  Still, since she can, she gives him a pleasant smile and nods her head.  “Of course, Priest Mahad.  Lead the way.”

The journey to his room is short. The moment they’re alone, the door shut behind them, Mahad plants his hands on her chest and pushes her so hard she slams to the floor; when she instinctively tries scrambling to her feet, he snaps at her, “Stay,” like she’s a dog, and she obeys.

Breathing hard, Mana follows Mahad with her eyes as he slowly crosses over to where she’s sprawled on the ground, his hands folded behind his back, his mouth a thin, hard line as he glares down at her.  “I expect you to behavior better in public, Mana,” he tells her.  “Especially before the court.  Especially before the king of Egypt.  Instead you grope me like some harlot in need of money.”

“I’m sorry, Master—”

“I did not tell you to speak,” he says, and she shuts her mouth with a click.  “I do not want to hear lies.  You are not sorry.  You only fear the punishment you know is coming.”

“Please don’t punish me, Master.” Slowly, in case he stops her again, she rises up on her knees and scoots over to where he stands in front of her, clasping her hands under her chin as she looks up at him, small and sweet.  “Please.  I really am sorry.  I won’t do it again.  Next time I’ll behave.  I’ll be a good girl.”

“‘Next time,’” Mahad repeats with a scoff.  “Always ‘next time’ with you.  ‘Next time,’ and ‘I won’t do it again’—and then you do.  Simple chastisement is clearly not enough.  You need hard discipline.”

“Please—” she begins again, and then cries out when Mahad grabs a sudden fistful of her hair, using it to pull her forcefully to her feet.  The moment she’s upright, and dwarfed by the size of him, he grips her dress by the neckline and, in one swift, harsh movement, yanks it down.  The fine linen piles around her feet; she’s left in only her underpants and nothing else, bare and vulnerable.

Mahad’s eyes sweep over her body—her round breasts with dark, pebbly nipples currently wrinkled to hardness; her soft belly and thighs; her full hips and long, shapely legs.  “You are very beautiful,” he concedes, returning his gaze to hers.  “It pains me to have to treat you this way, Mana.  But you respond to nothing else, and thus leave me no choice.”  

He sits on the edge of the bed, still fully clothed, not even taking off his headdress.  With a snap of his fingers, he beckons Mana to join him, then points to his lap.  She knows well what he means.  Flushing down to her chest, Mana takes tiny steps over to the bed and obediently bends over his knees, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes on the floor.

“I am going to hit you ten times,” Mahad tells her.  “You are going to count.  If you mess up, we will start over.  Do you understand?”

“I understand,” she says.

He clicks his tongue.  “Is that how you address me?”

“I’m sorry, Master.  I meant, ‘I understand, Master,’” she corrects herself, her ears burning.

“That’s better.”  Almost as an afterthought, he takes her underpants by the waistband and pulls them down her legs to let them dangle uselessly from her foot.  “Remember, every time you make a mistake, we will start the punishment over again.”  In her periphery, she sees him raise his hand, and her breath catches.  “Get ready.”

His first slap connects, hard.  He doesn’t ease her into it—the sound of his hand against her rear end echoes through the room, and the sharp, stinging pain makes Mana give a loud cry, the end of which she just barely remembers to tack on a choked, “One!”

“There’s a good girl,” Mahad says. Mana breathes hard through her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut tight as her bottom smarts.  “It’s just as I said.  You respond best to a firm hand, and mine suits you very well, doesn’t it?” He raises his hand again.  “I will continue, then.”

He smacks her again.  Again, Mana gasps, her body bucking forward with the force of the blow.  “Two!” she manages, tears starting behind her closed lids.  He’s only hitting her rear, yet she knows her thighs are just as hot and red; she both fears and hopes he’ll notice.

“Good, good,” he murmurs.  Mahad lowers his hand again, but doesn’t give her the next slap immediately; instead, he lets his fingers gently stroke her backside, feeling the hotness of the flush there and watching as she jumps from sensitivity.  Then, without warning, he spanks her again.

“T-two!  Three, three!” she corrects quickly, but too late.  Mahad is already tutting, looking down at her with disappointment.

“So soon, Mana?  Very well.  We will begin again.  I expect you to get it right this time.”  Mana moans, burying her head between her arms as he raises his hand again.  “From one, then.”

Again he smacks her, his fingers splayed.  “One!” she cries out.  Her bottom is aching, and it isn’t the only thing—her cunt is begging to be touched, hot and wet and swollen between her thighs, held firmly together by Mahad’s other hand.  Until her punishment is through, though, there’s no hope for relief.  He’ll gladly let her suffer for as long as this takes, teasing her with those amazing hands and his hard, stinging slaps until she’s like a kitten in his arms, tiny and meek and mewing for attention.  Then and only then might he put his cock in her, and fuck her until her knees are water and she’s wailing to please, please be allowed to come, and maybe, just maybe—if he decides she’s been good and sweet—he’ll let her.  Mana rocks in his lap and prays to the gods that it’ll be so.

Mahad starts adding variation to the timing of his smacks, giving her several right in a row and then making her wait for the next, trembling against his thighs as she tries to anticipate the blow. Then, just as she’s begun to relax—smack.  Mana gets all the way to six before she messes up again, and it’s barely even on purpose; Mahad just clicks his tongue and tells her, “We begin again, then.”  By the time they reach ten—at which point she’s really been hit almost twice as much—she’s a shaking, whimpering mess, her rear end raw and aching, her cunt dribbling wetness onto the lap of Mahad’s robes.

“That’s a very good girl, Mana,” he says, petting her hair.  “You see? That was not so bad.  Now, on your feet, and I will decide what I want to do with you next.”

Her legs are almost too weak to support her weight as she stands, the insides of her thighs coated in slick, her chest rising and falling with her fast breaths as Mahad, too, gets to his feet. After a moment of consideration, he crosses over to his desk, pulling out the hard wooden chair and gesturing to it. “Have a seat, Mana.”

She gulps, then tentatively goes over and places herself on the chair; the unyielding wood makes her bottom ache in protest.  “Good girl,” Mahad murmurs, tucking some hair out of her face.  He starts to take off some of his finery, abandoning his headdress on the desk and placing next to it his armbands, his belt, his pauldrons and neckpiece and cape.  When he’s wearing only the simple white robe, his shoes kicked away, he comes up behind where Mana sits dutifully on her chair and kneels, sliding his hands up her belly to cup her breasts in his palms.  Her back arches, her eyes falling shut.

“Lovely Mana,” he murmurs near her ear, squeezing, pinching the pert nipples between his fingers.  “Egypt’s finest flower.  And you belong entirely to me, don’t you, Mana?  No one else gets to enjoy you the way I do.”

“Yes, Master,” she breathes, lashes fluttering.  “I belong entirely to you.”

“You are such a good pet, Mana.  I knew that you had it in you.”  One hand slips lower, until his fingers tease the dark curls at the join of her thighs.  A small moan escapes her lips.  “All you need is a tiny amount of discipline.  It’s very simple.  Misbehavior means punishment.  Obedience yields rewards.”

“I’m obedient,” Mana whispers, her heart galloping in her chest.  “Master, I’m being so obedient.  I’m being good and doing everything you say.  I should—I should get a reward.  Please let me have a reward.”

“Patience, Mana,” he chuckles, his breath ghosting over her ear.  “Yes, you have been good, and you will be rewarded yet for your behavior—when I’m ready. But you are so fun to tease.  For instance, if I put just the tiniest bit of pressure right here—”  And he dips a finger between her labia, searching—and easily finding—her clitoris; Mana bites her lip against a desperate whimper.  “Ah, there we are.  That’s the good place, isn’t it, Mana?  Do you like it when I touch you here?”

“I do,” she whispers.  Mahad adds a second finger and starts rubbing her clitoris, small, tight little circles that have her toes curling in seconds.  “I like it a lot when you touch me there.  Won’t you please keep touching me there, Master?”

“Very well.  Since you have been so good for your master.”  He increases the pressure between her legs, rubbing her clitoris harder and faster; Mana bucks her hips and gasps for air against the sudden onslaught of pleasure.  “Oh, you do like that, don’t you, Mana?  Is this what you wanted when you thought it wise to grope me during Priest Akhenaden’s meeting?  Silly Mana. All you had to do was ask, and I would not have had to punish you.”

“I’m s-sorry,” she stammers, shutting her eyes tight as he continues his rubbing.  Fire blooms in her belly and between her legs, and her heart pounds like she’s running a race.  “N-next time. Next time I’ll be g-good—”

“Oh, I know you will,” Mahad tells her, increasing his pace even further.  “You will be good, or your punishment will be even worse than it was this time.  Although I have begun to suspect that you actually enjoy being punished.  I am starting to think that it arouses you to be bent over my lap and paddled like a disobedient child.  Is this true, Mana?”

“N-no, Master—”  She shakes her head, her hair whipping her face as she sinks down in her chair while her hips shake.  “No, Master.  Not at all. I d-don’t like to be punished—”

“It’s wrong to lie,” he whispers in her ear, and gives her cunt a gentle slap.  Mana barely stifles a shriek.  “Tell me how much you love it when I touch you, Mana.  Tell me how hard it is to breathe when my hand is between your legs, making you feel so good.  Tell me how badly you want to come all over this chair, like a common whore putting on a show for some coin.”

“I want to come,” she gasps, inching so slowly toward that peak, needing with everything in her to reach it at last. “I want to come, I want to come for you, Master, I want to—”

“Say ‘please,’” he murmurs, squeezing her breast to the point of pain.  “Say, ‘Please, Master, may I come?’  And I may let you.”

A single tear leaks out of her eye and rolls down her cheek.  “P-please, Master,” she repeats, “m-may I c-c-come?  Please?  Please, please, please?”

“Come, Mana,” he suddenly barks at her, and she wails as she topples over the edge, pleasure crashing over her in waves, Mahad rubbing her cunt unrelentingly as she rocks against his hand. “That’s a good girl.  That’s a very good girl.  Oh, you come so prettily, Mana.  Tell me how it feels.”

“So good,” she sobs.  “M-Master, it feels so good—”

He keeps rubbing long after her orgasm has subsided, ignoring her choked cries as her cunt aches with sensitivity. Then, all at once, he stops, stands, and lifts her up in his arms to drop her roughly onto the bed, flipping her over when she lands on her back so that she’s instead on her hands and knees with her hips in the air, fully accessible.  Mana trembles at the sound of rustling linen, of Mahad letting his clothes fall around his feet and kicking them away, and then he’s on his knees behind her, one hand twining in her hair to press her face into the mattress while the other buries itself in her cunt.  It takes precious little time to work her open; within moments, he’s taking his hand away, and the head of his cock takes its place between her legs. Slowly, he pushes himself in.

“Yes, Master,” Mana whispers into the blanket, her thighs shaking as he takes her.  “Y-yes, Master—it’s what I’ve wanted—please, give it to me, give it all to me.”

“You take it so well,” Mahad murmurs, and begins to move.  Like before, he’s not gentle—his skin slaps against hers as he sets a fast, hard pace, his fingers digging into her hips, his other hand holding her head down.  “What a good girl you are, Mana.  What a sweet girl you are to let me fill you with my cock. Priestess, sorceress—you are none of that right now, are you?  You are a simple girl who wants nothing more than to take my cock.”

“It feels so good,” she whimpers, meeting his thrusts as best she can.  Her first orgasm left her boneless, and already she’s aching for a second.  “It f-feels so good, Master.  It feels so good to have you inside me.  Take me, take me hard, make my body sing—”

“Sing for me, Mana.”  Mahad’s voice becomes low and gravelly as he continues to fuck her; Mana shudders in delight to think of her body giving him pleasure.  “I want to hear you sing.  I want you to sing as you come around my cock.”

“I’m so close,” Mana whispers, pressing her cheek to the bedspread.  She lifts a hand from the bed and slowly moves it down her stomach, wanting so badly to press it to her clitoris like he’d done.  “Please, Master, can I touch myself?  Can I touch myself while you fuck me?”

“You may,” he says breathlessly, and Mana doesn’t hesitate—she shoves her hand between her legs and starts rubbing, and immediately feels herself rushing toward the edge of climax all over again.

“Master, Master, Master,” she croons, closing her eyes as he slams himself into her again and again, his breathing getting rougher and shallower as he starts nearing his own peak.  “Master, I love you.  I want to come with you.  Please, come inside me, make me come with you—”

“Mana,” he gasps.

“Oh, oh—”  And it’s their game to use that old title, the one she hasn’t used outside of the bedroom in years, but as she starts coming, instead she calls out, “M-Mahad!”

“Mana!”

He holds her tight against his body as they both shake, Mana sobbing softly against the bedding, Mahad burying his face in the back of her neck as he spills inside her.  She collapses onto the bed, completely useless, and then Mahad lies down beside her, and strokes her face with his fingertips as she tries to find it in her to open her eyes.  When she does, she’s greeted with a gentle smile.

“Hi, there,” he says.

She smiles back.  “Hi.”

Mahad leans in, still smiling, and presses his lips to hers.  Mana wraps her arms around his neck, and they stay like this for several minutes, holding each other tight like everything good in the world depends on it.  In a way, it does.

“I’m sticky,” Mana complains after several minutes, and Mahad laughs.  “Let’s have a bath.”

“A bath sounds lovely.”  Mahad stands, holding out his hands to help her up, but Mana shakes her head and extends her arms instead.

“Carry me.”

He snorts.  “Sloth is a sin, Mana,” he tells her, but picks her up anyway, cradling her bridal-style and taking her to the adjoining washroom.  He fills the tub with hot water and lavender oil, gently places her in it, and then gets in behind her, winding his arms around her middle and resting his chin on top of her head.

“Are you feeling okay, Mana?” he asks her as he massages her arms with a cloth.

“I’m feeling fine, thank you for asking.”  She cranes her neck to kiss him on the cheek.  “Much better than I was at that dumb meeting.  Honestly, overtaxing the poor is how you start an uprising.  Akhenaden is such an idiot.”

“Oh, you were actually paying attention?”  Mahad quirks an eyebrow.  “I was not. Truth be told, I was thinking about this the entire time.”

Mana laughs and splashes him with bathwater.