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foxofthedesert · 6 years ago

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RQ OUaT FF | OGA: Ch. 4

Chapter 4 - An Intimate Interlude

The arrival of dawn ushers in a glorious morning. Overhead, the sky is a clear azure blanket dotted by wispy puffs of white that swirl, stretch, and swell into fluffy amorphous shapes. Rays of adolescent sunlight bathe the world in a gentle coat that makes every surface it touches shimmer a soft amber hue that is reminiscent of honey fresh from the comb. Through the flung open bay window, crisp and fresh air rolls through the chambers, underscored by the sweet coniferous note of the nearby forests. A merry chorus of birdsong trumpets from every corner of the citadel, ringing in a new day full of such promise that the atmosphere practically simmers with an undulating vivaciousness rapidly building toward a terrific crescendo.

To Regina, who has just risen from slumber, it feels as if the universe has given its stamp of approval upon the decision made the night before. Adoption. Becoming a mother. Although she is no less apprehensive about taking such a risky plunge into the terrifying unknown, Red is no less buoyant, and her pervasive excitement about their future is so infectious that it drowns out a majority of Regina's negativity. Of course, it also helps that the chances are looking good of fulfilling her end of the bargain Lord Maurice successfully negotiated on her behalf. If she and Red are seen speaking repeatedly with Vilenda over the next few weeks, the Council will have no further reason to doubt her resolve to solve the looming crisis of succession. Politically, things can then finally start returning to normal. For that reason alone there is cause for cautious optimism.

As per their ritual, Red rouses early and then wakes Regina soon thereafter for a brisk morning run prior to breakfast. Regina loiters in bed a few minutes to shake the hazy crust of sleep from her brain and eyes while Red answers nature's call.

"Up and at 'em sleepy head! We've got eight miles to cover and time's a-wastin'!" Red singsongs as she exits the bathroom, smiling for the whole world as if no evil has ever befallen her and she has never known the debilitating touch of sorrow. The woman's ability to greet each day as if it is a gift is as insufferable as it is enviable.

"'M'up. Stop yellin'," Regina mutters, furiously rubbing her eyes for the fifth time in as many minutes.

When Red chuckles at her post-sleep misery, she shoots her a withering glare, wishing for all she is worth in that moment that she had the power of Medusa to kill with her gaze. Turning Red into stone is not ideal, but if it meant she could get an extra hour or two of sleep…? Red just stands there, head cocked to the side as is her way, grinning so brightly that the gloomy clouds hanging over Regina's head have no choice but to flee. She sighs, shakes her head, and then surrenders to the inevitable.

"Fine. I'm moving, Miss Bossypants," she grouches, then slides out of bed. Red does not chide her for the reappropriation of the colorful epithet she often uses to refer to Regina, though she does arch a dark brow. Complaining under her breath, Regina ignores her too-chipper wife as she trudges into the bathroom to take care of her own morning business.

Once she's relieved herself and splashes some cold water on her face, she feels much better. The Regina that reemerges back into their chambers is much nicer to her spouse, even goes so far as to greet Red with a sweetly offered 'good morning, darling' emphasized by an even nicer kiss that Red eagerly returns. After they part, and then sneak in a few extra smooches and hugs for good measure, Red gestures to the bed where she has already laid out their clothes for the morning. As a team, they quickly tie back their hair, throw on the custom designed cotton shirts, form-fitting with long sleeves for the mildly chilly autumn air, atop similarly crafted ankle-length pants. Running sandals are then strapped to their feet before they head out into the corridor and meander their way up to the ramparts ringing the citadel. They chit-chat the entire walk through the Royal Wing, east towards the scullery, through the doorway halfway down that hall that leads to the northern wall and the winding staircase that eventually grants access to the ramparts.

At this hour, only a handful of guards are present upon the siege wall ringing the entirety of the citadel. Each of them is familiar with their Queens' daily routine and spare them greetings of respectful salutes and amiable smiles before returning to their duty patrolling the walls. After a brief series of warm-up stretches to prevent injury during their morning jaunt, Red issues no warning before taking off at a spirited pace, tossing a cheeky challenge back over her shoulder. 'Betcha can't catch me slow poke!' Regina grins as she surges forward to catch up. Soon enough, they settle side-by-side into a steady churning rhythm, and the passing of seconds becomes marked by the pounding of their sandals against the implacable stone.

As always, the exertion helps Regina to soothe any clingy troubles from the night before. Sometimes running is the only way to purge any nagging demons remaining from being visited by yet another nightmare or to get her productive juices flowing after an annoying bout of insomnia even Red's normally effective assistance could not conquer. The exhilaration of pushing her body to the limit is also uniquely helpful to clear out the latent cobwebs of slumber from her mind, which is of particular importance today; she needs to be sharp at a tack for the upcoming session of court. It will do her no favors to dwell on how fit she is to become a parent when she has a more immediately pressing and demanding obligations to fulfill as Queen of a populous realm.

An hour later, both panting and drenched with sweat, Regina allows Red to drag her by the hand through the winding, sparsely populated corridors of the castle all the way back to their chambers. Inside, she then leads them straight into their bathroom where she releases Regina's hand to turn on the spigot of their newly installed shower, an invention fed by pipes pressurized by steam-powered pumps. For the sake of convenience should anything require repair, the copper supply pipes running down the wall from overhead are all exposed, though for appearance sake have been polished to a fine sheen and installed with a level of neatness and artistry that passed her demanding standards. A floor drain which carries the waste water away is sealed into the tile floor by grout tough enough to withstand water erosion, and it dumps directly into the convoluted system of large diameter cast iron pipes held together by lead-packed joints, the near three hundred foot long trunk of which terminates deep within the bowels of the castle. The tile decorating the shower itself matches the rest of the bathroom, black with silver accents, though a number of strategically selected tiles upon the three walls comprising the stall are adorned in the center with the coat of arms Regina and Red adopted for their new family line: a stylized crescent moon hanging over a sprawling apple tree. The final feature is a wall of tall, half-inch thick glass which segregates the stall from the rest of the bathroom, which is by some trick of chemistry lightly frosted so as to provide occupants much needed privacy seeing as servants can be flitting to and fro at any given time.

The shower system, unique upon the continent as far as Regina is aware, was designed by none other than Victor Frankenstein – who cunningly modified a similar scheme from his world to utilize materials available in his new one – along with Lord Maurice, who it turns out is not only the second most wealthy individual in the realm but a self-educated engineer whose proficiency and ingenuity are, according to Victor anyway, second to none. The Royal Quarters were the first wing of the castle to be fitted with this amazing and wonderful conglomeration, though plans are currently in the works to expand access to the entirety of the castle. In anticipation of this project, Regina has already rewarded the two architects of the system for their industriousness with a sizable contract that will make Victor a wealthy man and Lord Maurice even more so. Once the audacious undertaking is completed in the nebulous near future, she has every intention in backing what will undoubtedly be a lucrative enterprise to offer installation of the system to the rest of those in Misthaven with the means to afford such a luxury. Although purchasing hers put a sizable dent in her purse even with a queenly discount, it was so worth it. The convenience of showering versus bathing when time is of the essence is beyond quantification.

Once the taps are adjusted for the correct heat – an important fringe benefit of the steam-powered pumps is the ready availability of piping hot water – Red unceremoniously divests herself of all clothing and then oh-so-generously volunteers to aid Regina in doing the same. Now nude and evidently frisky, she tosses a saucy wink back over her shoulder as she climbs into the relatively spacious stall, having just helped herself to a handful of Regina's rump before giving it a firm squeeze followed by a vicious swat that leaves behind a mean hand-shaped splotch. As payback, Regina rushes in after Red, throws the opaque glass barrier closed as she enters the stall, grabs Red by the hips and pushes her face first against the wall opposite the faucet. Pinned between the unforgiving wall and Regina's unyielding frame, Red gasps, eyes fluttering shut, head turned to the side so that her cheek is resting upon the damp tile.

Torrid rain streams from the large conical head sitting atop a tall standpipe, dozens of tiny holes in the polished brass lending extra oomph to the thin jets of water being forced through them with enough pressure to pleasantly sting Regina's flesh. The torrent relentlessly batters her back and shoulders, splashes over onto Red, depositing an unending flow of rivulets that meander down the pale valley of Red's arched spine.

"Such a troublemaker," Regina says, molding herself to Red's back, lips moving deliberately against the shell of her ear. Breasts mashed against Red's lower shoulder, she wraps an arm low around Red's side, hand splayed dangerously southward over a toned belly that is far more fun to touch than it is to look at – which is plenty of fun, indeed. With her free hand, she flips her long hair, now soaking wet, free of the knot holding it back and then does the same for Red.

"I swear, you do so love to live on edge. You're a bold little tart, aren't you?" she then asks, sweeping Red's sopping tresses over her shoulder.

Bottom lip tucked between her teeth, Red nods, responding with a half-hum of agreement and a half-moan of approval. She cries out when Regina moves the hand that was in her hair around her other side, snatches a pert breast, kneads it a bit and then pinches at an erect nipple.

"I see you still haven't learned to not start shit with me if you're not serious about finishing," Regina says, voice low and rumbling just how Red likes it when they are engaging in amorous play. "Guess I'll have to teach you another lesson. You'd like that, wouldn't you, you insatiable tease?" Red doesn't answer, just moans, her hips starting to grind back into Regina's pelvis. That is an unsatisfactory response when they are pressed for time and Red knew exactly what she was doing with that provocative ass slap. Adopting her most imperious tone, Regina squeezes Red's breast more harshly than before, "Answer me. With intelligible words. Tell me whether or not you wish for me to punish you for your unwarranted display of impertinence."

"Please, please," Red gasps, then cries out again when Regina returns the favor with a hard slap to her rear that is even more forceful than the one that started this impromptu tryst. "Gah! Yes…m-more. Punish me. Please!"

"Not good enough," Regina says, bucking back defiantly against Red's gyrating rear as she vigorously massages the modest breast straining against her hand. "I need details. Tell me how much. How much do you want it? Are you desperate for it? Willing to beg for it? To humiliate yourself for it?"

"Yes...oh, gods, yes!" Red cries, eyes open now, pupils so dilated there is more black than green. "I need it so bad. S-so bad I can't think straight. And I'll do anything for it. Anything you want! I'll beg and plead on my hands and knees if you want, just...please, hurt me."

"With pleasure," Regina smiles, a dark, joyous arousal arcing through her.

When she discovered Red liked to mix some controlled violence into their intimate encounters, she was hardly able to believe her luck. Until Red, she did not feel safe enough to fully unleash the desire to control and possess the object of her lust, nor had she ever found a partner who relished sexual roughhousing to the degree Red does. The inevitable result of such an indulgence would have been either a corpse to clean up in order to protect her reputation or a body whose pleasures she would never again enjoy because while her victim would be too scared of her to blab about what she liked to do and have done to her but would also be far too traumatized to repeat the experience. With Red, she had none of those worries because she was not the one to initiate their memorable descent down the rabbit hole of what most in polite society would perceive as unforgivable sexual deviance. Not only is Red tough enough to take whatever Regina can dish out, she is equally eager to give every bit as good as she gets.

'It's the wolf,' Red told Regina after their first time experimenting left Regina's lip bloody, the entire length of Red's back welted with angry nail shape scratches, and both of them sporting a myriad of bruises and tooth indentations in intimate areas they treasured for days afterward. 'She can smell your power, your pure alpha energy, and it gets her so excited and aggressive she surfaces even when there isn't a full moon. Nobody else ever made her do that – come out like this, I mean, like she's as crazy for you as I am. I guess she's finally found a mate who can handle her appetites. And so have I.'

'Well, I'll be happy to oblige those appetites any time you're in the mood, my dear,' Regina had replied, and has since proved her willingness to do so on any number of occasions through the years. Such as this morning, when she accommodates Red with a blistering open-handed swat to the exact same spot she struck moments ago. She follows it up with another. Then another. Then another. And then thrice more in rapid succession for good measure. Each time her hand cracks down, the satisfying thwack of lovely pristine flesh being abused chimes enticingly in her ears and Red whimpers, gasps, or groans, her thighs clenching together as her entire body shivers with pleasure and uncontrollable eagerness over the prospect of what else is to come. A veteran at reading her wife's body language, there is no misinterpreting that it will not take very long to push Red to the edge and then send her toppling headlong over it. Regina salivates over the prospect.

Seizing the moment, she snatches a handful of wet hair, looping it around her hand a couple times as if it were a set of reins by which to steer a prized filly. Red whimpers in anticipation, knowing the action is a foreplay to unbearable ecstasy.

"How do you want to be fucked?" Regina asks, soothing the wet, angry skin beneath her hand with appropriately gentle circles. She doesn't always give Red a choice when they engage in this sort of behavior, but this morning she's feeling uncommonly benevolent.

A shudder passes through Red at the coarse question. "Just like this. From behind. With the...thingy..."

Ah, the thingy. Regina smirks, wondering Red will ever be able to wrap her bashful lips around the proper designation for their favorite toy outside the reality-shattering throes of passion.

The 'thingy' was a rather inappropriate wedding gift Regina received to augment their wedding night – or a very appropriate one considering it was from Maleficent. It is similar to the one that naughty dragon had personally, and thoroughly, introduced a disgustingly naive Regina to many years ago. Essentially it is a soft, pliable leather dildo set into a custom made strap harness, designed alike for the unadulterated gratification of lesbians and heterosexual men who also enjoy penetration. Apparently Stefan is such a man if Mal is to be believed, not that Regina has any intention of inquiring into the minutiae of the foreign king's private proclivities. It is no business of hers what any couple gets up to behind closed doors so long as it is consensual, nor is it of any concern what others think about what she does within the sanctum of her own bedroom. That said, she is as unashamed of her progressive, liberated sexuality as she is of the devices utilized – by her own hand or Red's – to facilitate entertaining it. If the whole world were to discover what she was about to do to her wife, she would not be deterred.

Of course, the same cannot be said for Red, who blushes scarlet at the slightest mention of sex while in the presence of company, familiar or otherwise. At first, that public innocence was perplexing when in private and made to feel comfortable Red is the most viscerally sexual being Regina has ever been fortunate enough to have relations with. Not even Mal at the height of her form and attractiveness can compete with Red's effortless, raw, overpowering sex appeal; and not even at the peak of her reproductive cycle could Mal keep up with Red's seemingly endless stores of energy on an ordinary day. With Mal at her most rambunctious, they were usually both done for within two or three orgasms a piece. Not Red, though. Once the arousal switch gets flicked on in Red, she becomes someone else altogether – a boisterous, dynamic, impulsive, and audacious woman who oozes a sensuality so thick it is tangible and so delicious it makes Regina's mouth water like a ravenous woman set before a bountiful feast of the finest delicacies. Honestly it's like whatever obstructs the wolf from gaining access to Red's conscious mind is ripped away when the shift occurs so that the two disparate personalities are allowed to coagulate. The new amalgamated version that emerges is the perfect sexual partner for Regina: a tender, thoughtful, knowledgeable, immensely talented lover with a filthy mind, a filthier mouth, and ridiculously flexible limbs, who would seldom be ready to call it quits before Regina reaches the extreme limit of her ability to endure any more pleasure lest her higher brain functions are put in danger of permanent disability.

But no one can know any of that, because if she told a single soul, Red would withhold sex for far longer than Regina is willing to be deprived. Pathetic, maybe, but I'm content to be pathetic if it means I have Red at my beck and call. Which she does for the most part, as it seems Red's libido is auspiciously and inextricably entwined with Regina's. So she lets her wife keep her dirty little secret. And besides, there is an extra thrill knowing she gets to see a side of Red no one ever has, or will if she has any say in the matter.

Shifting back a pace, Regina snaps her fingers, magically donning the harness fitted with the appendage specifically chosen for Red after some very careful and mostly enjoyable trial and error. With another snap of her fingers, the material of the long, moderately girthy, proudly erect appendage is transformed into a substance closely resembling flesh with all associated rigid elasticity and throbbing warmth. A neat trick she also learned from Maleficent to enhance the pleasure given by the toy.

Heart racing in her chest, as wet on the inside as she is on the outside, Regina steps back up and aligns her hips with Red's. "Any other requests?" she asks, rubbing the head up and down Red's glistening entrance to gather up lubrication for the dildo. The sight of Red's swollen nether lips, so pretty and inviting, is overwhelming to the point she can hardly contain the urge to surge forward just to hear that irresistible mewl that invariably follows penetration.

"Mmmmmm, yes," Red hisses the final consonant when Regina grazes her clit. "Don't hold back. Make me scream."

Regina grins devilishly, all teeth and power and domination. "Your wish is my command." And then she pushes forward, burying herself in her personal paradise one slow, torturous inch at a time. Her head dips back in wanton joy upon hearing Red emit a keening mewl, which begins as she pushes past a threshold that offers little resistance because Red is absolutely drenched and does not remit until she is buried up to the hilt.

"How's that feel?" she asks once fully sheathed, the hand still tangled in Red's saturated hair reflexively tightening.

"Good. So, so good," Red pants, pushing back against Regina's steadily applied pressure and the occasional roll of her hips.

Regina grunts her approval. Time to maintain my stellar studly reputation. In preparation, she braces herself by grasping Red's shoulder with her free hand.

"Ready?"

No reply is given by Red save a shuddered whine. While they are both accustomed to rough handling, they are always mindful of the other's safety. Verbal responses are required before tethers binding their more insensitive sides are turned loose. To that end, Regina pulls Red's upper torso back toward her with the hair bunched in her hand until Red's back is arched further than she would be comfortable with were her wife not a supernatural creature of ancient primordial magicks whose bones, muscles, and joints can bear abuse far beyond the capacity of the most hardy human being. Red alleviates the strain by wedging herself into position with her arms, extending them out so she can place her palms on the tile wall. Even so, Regina might worry this extreme angle will hurt Red if she was not confident from experience that it will only intensify her wife's pleasure once she starts moving in earnest. It always does...

"I said," she says, volume rising with each syllable as she punctuates the words with tiny thrusts that only frustrate Red, "are you ready...to be...fucked?"

A rumble starts low in Red's belly rises up through her torso, into her chest, up the tense column of her throat. "Yes!" she growls, trying to nod but unable to due to Regina's iron grip on her hair. "Fuck me. Fuck me right now! I'm ready. I'm so fucking rea – hnnnnnng!"

Not one needing to be told twice, Regina pulls all the way out, stalls with the tip of the appendage encircled by Red's picturesquely distended lips, then crashes back home with the full force of a grunted effort. Red's subsequent groan is not even spilling out before Regina repeats the process, then again, then again, then again each time picking up the pace until she is hammering away as frantically as she is able without losing control of her limbs to the slick tile beneath her feet. The noises Red makes as she is taken over and over are nothing short of undiluted, addictive, unapologetically erotic sin. Getting into the rhythm now, Regina yanks Red the rest of the way back by her hair until she can bury her nose in it, smell the salty sweat through the cascading water, can see Red's eyes slip closed and her jaw hanging slack around a perpetual moan intermittently interrupted by hoarse expletives.

After a good while rutting away like this, she pulls back enough to glance down and takes a while to observe the hypnotic motion of their bodies crashing together. The rippling of Red's shapely flank with each impact, the predictable disappearance of the dildo as it slips inside a core so flush with arousal it leaks out and drips from the toy every time it reappears, the sweet yet tangy smell of their combined excitement swirling amidst the water vapor, is all so mesmerizing and intoxicating that she can hardly tear her eyes away. So enthralled is Regina that she is only vaguely aware that she is panting for breath as if having run ten miles without a moment of reprieve and that the muscles in her legs and back are burning as she relentlessly pounds into Red with all the crazed fury of a woman unhinged from the restrictions so cruelly imposed by entropic nature upon her frail, limited mortal body.

And then she glimpses one of Red's hands slide down the moisture slick wall, only to slip off and immediately snake between her long legs. The muscles in Red's forearm start to twitch frenetically and within a heartbeat her eyelids crinkle from the extra force being exerted upon them.

"Oh, fuck!"

That cry of infinitely concentrated bliss is Regina's cue to initiate the final phase of this unexpectedly welcome rendezvous.

All the while without ceasing her merciless attack on Red's delightfully tight cunt, she slides the hand clinging to Red's shoulder along the collar, past the junction of her neck, up onto the column of her throat, which is corded and veined under the strain of their immensely gratifying activity. Mindful not to hurt Red, she wraps her hand around the front of a pale throat, closes her fingers around it and begins to squeeze. In response, Red's eyes shoot open, irises nearly invisible within dual wells of liquid black lust, and she locks gazes with Regina, pleading wordlessly for more, harder, faster, tighter. Regina is all too happy to oblige. Adjusting the hand fisting Red's hair all the way up to her scalp, Regina complies with a gusto that would petrify most sane individuals. She ups her pace another level and squeezes Red's throat until her entire face is glowing a lush crimson and her eyes are bulging with a pain so intense and rapturous and beautiful that Regina feels her walls involuntarily clench then start to flutter erratically – a mini-orgasm that is not uncommon when she is using the harness.

"Holy shit!" Regina gasps, shuddering, her thrusts temporarily derailing off tempo as she recovers from the shock of cumming without having been touched even once.

But recover she does, just in time to watch Red's eyes glaze over, her brain entering that state of euphoric overload where its primary function is reoriented to processing the stimuli originating from the erogenous zones. A bead of drool creeps down Red's chin in confirmation of that assessment, and Regina follows its path as it drips onto her heaving chest, then rolls lazily over a pebbled pink nipple straining at the humid air. And then Red begins to babble incoherently as if the language circuits in her brain have been disrupted. It's a phenomenon that took some getting used to. The first time it happened Regina abruptly stopped moving, legitimately terrified she'd given Red a stroke. When the wave passed and Red regained lucidity, Regina actually dissolved into a fit of horrified tears. Now, though, having witnessed it more times than she can recall, she recognizes it for what it is: the prelude to a gushing orgasm that will wind up with Red in a boneless heap on the shower floor if Regina is not prepared to hold her weight.

Readying herself for the burden she will be soon required to bear, she increases the pace of her thrusting to the bleeding edge of her capability so that what was once steady slapping of flesh is now a cacophonous percussion more pleasing to her ears than the strings of a stirring melodic concerto. She then releases Red's hair to wind that arm around her shoulders, and with Red thus confidently secured, she further tightens the grip on her throat to where Red's breathing becomes a struggled wheeze. It's as far Regina will allow herself to go despite Red's insistence she can take her airway being totally arrested while also under the strain of sex for at least two and a half minutes before losing consciousness.

At the edges of her own endurance, Regina grunts and growls as she smashes ever harder into Red's increasingly inflamed but ever receptive womanhood. Her vision blurs from over-exertion. Sweat pours from her forehead as if to rival the impressive output of the shower spigot. Every muscle in her body is on fire, but the best form of flame, a purifying inferno that reduces her world down to what is most vital in that moment – serving up an insurmountable deluge of pleasure to the woman who gives her life meaning. Her focus narrows to Red, watching her face intently so that she can alter the angle of assault ever-so-slightly until hitting exactly the right spot. When she finds it, Red's facial muscles slacken, her eyes roll up into her skull, and her mouth contorts around a silent scream. Regina feels Red's walls tremor through the artificial shaft and relishes the sensation as she continues to diligently work Red through on into proper completion. It doesn't take long, perhaps half a dozen thrusts, before Red stiffens from head to toe as if an invisible string linked to her muscles has been snapped taut with a violence that would have sent Regina reeling if not for her having prepared for such an event. In the same instant Red clamps around the dildo with enough power to have broken it if were attached to a flesh and blood man, a flood of liquid spurts out around it that soaks Regina's legs, and then Red's walls are clenching with such strength and ferocity that the appendage – now resting so tantalizingly close to Regina's clit – vibrates quickly and forcefully enough to transfer downward into the super-sensitive bundle of nerves aching for attention because of how painfully aroused she is. Still thrusting with manic fervor, in a matter of seconds, Regina's vision whitens and an electric fire springs to life within her loins. Control snapping like the branch of a tree severed by a catastrophic vortex, she shouts a strangled cry of half-deranged ecstasy to the invisible heavens that occupy the stars hidden from view by tile, plaster, and stone.

How long they stay locked that way, caught up in the spasms of an indescribable euphoria, she cannot say. They have both ascended to the planes of another world, that erotic Elysium where time loses all meaning, pain and pleasure are one and all, and nothing else exists aside from their joined bodies and united communion with the gods of pure sexual, emotional, and spiritual fulfillment.

When Regina does finally recover her senses some indeterminate time later, she is surprised to find Red is no longer facing away, held tight to her front. Instead her still-trembling wife is nestled in her arms, face tucked into the crease of her neck, holding her up instead of the other way around.

"So, that was a lot of fun. Let's do it again some time," Red says after a while, and Regina can feel the playful smile against her flushed skin.

She cannot help herself. She laughs.

#once upon a time fanfiction #here there be smut #fair warning #they needed some lovin' tho dammit #still mortified myself with this one

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