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#tungle dot hell strikes again
tea-and-honeys · 4 years
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i edit my icon and now i can’t see my header anymore why is mobile like this
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shmothman · 6 years
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ahdnakdnakdjskksjahd why is tumblr recommending i follow a re//ylo blog i litcherally have that tag blocked
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00dani · 7 years
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danielle you are so smart and pretty! not much into mlp myself anymore but i still love your blog. your selfies are always so good, and your input on social justice issues are always nice to read, especially trans issues! :)
omg thank you anon! i’m glad you appreciate my social justice
you’re so sweet omg
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maiamaiden · 6 years
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is anyone else having trouble with images loading on desktop. i know my internet’s fine cuz every other website is working
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rabbits-of-habit · 3 years
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Well now it won't let me send the art. Fuck.
-Wigglebones, screaming.
Tungle dot hell strikes again in not letting me see Wigglebones' nice art. CURSE YOU TUNGLE DOT HELL. -Mod Dirk
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rockpapertheodore · 5 years
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A Toast to Trouble
Bonnie of Braugh, the Goliath of Chapel Bay, is the personal bodyguard of Lady Remadia Seneca, the Countess of Chapel Bay. For a year, she has served faithfully and happily under Her Ladyship, having to do little more than be an ear for Lady Seneca’s machinations and withering observations of the nobility, and serve a towering wall of iron-clad muscle and stand there with her fuck-off heavy warhammer to intimidate anyone who starts getting too disagreeable towards the Countess.
Lady Seneca has seen fit to reward her loyal service with a night off. Unfortunately, she has also seen fit to commission the ethereal twin couturiers, Artemis and Apollo, to fit her for a very fancy dress, for a very fancy party. 
Bonnie was under the impression that she was supposed to rewarded for her loyal service, not damned straight to her own personal hell.
Tags for Content: Explicit, Low Fantasy, Original Work, Casual Sex, Bisexuality, Love and Affection, (a very brief scene of) M/F, (4.5k words worth of) F/F, D/s dynamics, Alcohol, consent is sexy, sober consent is even sexier, a rather unprofessional development in an otherwise professional relationship. WORD COUNT: 11,561 words
Quick note: I’m a queer cis man writing a wlw story, and I’ve tried to portray everything to the best of my ability. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and, please, i implore you, correct me if I’ve gotten anything wrong, particularly with the romance scene. Thanks <3
Quick note 2: Getting this to format properly for Tungles dot Bungles was hell, I apologize profusely if there’s anything hideously goofy with it
A Toast to Trouble
“Lady Seneca, may I speak frankly with you?” Bonnie of Braugh sputtered, standing stiffly in front of the mirror as the twin couturiers, Artemis and Apollo, went about their business cleaning up her appearance - perfecting the make-up on her face and making her suitable for the public.
Lady Remadia Seneca, Countess of Chapel Bay, lounged on the gilded divan near the door, idly swirling a glass of wine as she gleefully watched the twins struggle to do their work with the colossal woman, who dwarfed them considerably. “If I said no, would you hear it?” She asked, taking a sip of her wine that was the same deep red as Bonnie's dress.
“Absolutely not.”
“Then why bother asking?”
“Because it bothers you, my lady,” Bonnie said, as she felt Apollo begin to tighten the girdle over the dress. Artemis was making her way around Bonnie, smoothing out the fabric under the girdle where it had started to bunch up.
“Speak away, Bonnie.”
“Why must I wear this horrible outfit?”
Lady Seneca rolled her eyes. “Bonnie, you do a terrible disservice to yourself. You look absolutely stunning. Does she not, Artemis? Apollo?”
“We agree with you, Lady Seneca,” Apollo said, standing on a stool so that he could work at the top strings of the girdle, tying them into place.
“We do, indeed. Bonnie. You look beautiful, love.” Artemis said as she reached up, gently poking Bonnie's nose. Bonnie's face scrunched up in response. Artemis winked up at her and went about her work.
“Please, you two, not this. Why can't I wear my armor? How am I supposed to do my job like this?”
“It is a party, darling, worry not! The only things you should concern yourself with are dancing and being merry.”
“And should there be trouble? You very well won't let me carry my hammer with me.” Bonnie looked to the twins, hoping they'd agree with her, at least on this. Instead, they were busy packing away their tools.
“Bonnie, my beautiful brute, how I do adore thee.” Lady Seneca rose from the divan, her dress flowing behind her, and opened the door.
“That's not an answer.”
“I'm already going out to the party! I can't hear you!”
“Lady Seneca!”
“See you amongst the rabble, love! Ta!”
“Remy!” Bonnie shouted, desperate, to no avail. “Damn it.” Crestfallen, she stared at the door, hoping that Lady Seneca would come back through and tell her it was all some hilarious joke. She sighed and sat down on the stool Apollo had been standing on, slouching as far as her dress would let her. “I really have to go out there, don't I?”
Artemis and Apollo nodded, moving to Bonnie's sides to encompass her in a compassionate hug. “Trust us, love. You'll do fine,” Apollo murmured into her ear. Artemis laid a gentle kiss on Bonnie's cheek. “You are lovely.”
Bonnie sighed dramatically, wrapping a powerful arm around the two of them and forcing them into her lap. “I don't give a shit about that! What I'm terrified of is having to interact with these high-society types as something other than their hired muscle! I don't know how to hold a conversation with these people beyond, 'yes, m'lord,' or 'no, your grace!” She pulled them in so she could rest her chin on both of their heads as they each hugged an arm. “Do any of them know anything about smithing? Perhaps some steel merchant or a jeweller? My hands are too big for such delicate work, but perhaps we'd have some shared appreciation for craftsmanship.”
“You'll never know until you go out there,” Artemis said, resting her cheek against Bonnie's bicep. Apollo muttered, “and you're never going to get out there until you get over yourself. Ow!” Bonnie had dug her chin into the top of his head. “I'm just saying, love, you're going to have to let us free at some point and go.”
“But what if I don't want to let you go? What if I want to smuggle you two in my bustier?”
“Bonnie.”
Bonnie whined and loosened her grip on the twins, allowing them to slip out from her arms. The twins turned, offering their hands to help her up. Though Bonnie didn't need it, she appreciated the gesture, taking their offered hands and offering a sarcastic curtsy to them in thanks. They rolled their eyes and began to push her towards the door. Bonnie laughed, shooing them away. “Leave me alone, you two, I've got this.”
-The Party-
I haven’t got this, Bonnie thought as she tried to navigate the social seas of high-society. Mumbled half-attempts to strike up conversation left her lips time and again, only to be ignored or met with shocked stares. I have no idea how to talk to these people. She could feel every glance being cast her way as she stood easily head and shoulders above those gathered for the Countess's party, too much attention being paid to her scars and her height. She felt her face beginning to flush in panic as she grabbed a carafe of water and found herself a seat on an isolated chaise lounge. On a nearby table sat an unattended glass of wine, which she commandeered, dumping its contents into a potted bush of some sort and refilling it with cool water. She downed the glass and poured herself another, putting the carafe down so she could nurse the glass in both her hands. Contemplating the ripples of the water, she lost herself in thought as she tried to wrap her head around everything going on.
“I'm proud of you, you know.”
Bonnie snapped to attention, the Countess's lips a hair's breadth from her ear. She could smell the wine on the Countess's breath.
“To be quite honest, I thought that I had pushed too far by insisting you attend as my guest, rather than as my bodyguard.”
“I am out of my league here, my lady.”
“Oh I do so love it when you call me that, dear Bonnie, but tonight you don't have to be so formal.” Lady Seneca finally leaned away from Bonnie, and Bonnie felt herself relax. “Come, let us go onto the balcony. The fresh air will do us wonders.”
Suddenly Lady Seneca’s hand was in Bonnie’s and she was being pulled up and away, being led through the crowd, and an invisible weight was lifted from Bonnie’s shoulders as they emerged from the loud claustrophobia of the party into the relative quiet of the night. The balcony they were on was blessedly unoccupied, the nearest group of party goers a stone’s throw away on a balcony of their own, allowing Bonnie to appreciate the view that spread out beneath her. The twinkling of street lamps and illuminated windows from the dark city below captivated Bonnie, her eyes tracing the curve of the city around the bay until it faded into dark silhouettes in the distance. Off on a great rock in the middle of the harbor, the Chapel Bay Lighthouse shone like a bright star against the rippling black water of the night.
“Was I right, dear Bonnie?”
“Very much so, my lady.” Bonnie said, but Lady Seneca coughed expectantly, frowning. “Lady Seneca?” Another cough. “Remadia?” Bonnie said hesitantly, and was met with an excited grin. Bonnie smiled back.
“Close enough, my dear Bonnie. You didn’t hesitate to call my name earlier, though, did you?”
Bonnie felt her face heat with embarrassment. “First of all, my, wait, Lady, no,” Bonnie felt her thoughts twisting up in her brain, “Remadia. First of all, I remained as courteous as I could. Then, uh,” Bonnie averted her gaze from Remadia’s smiling eyes, “I was panicking.”
“You’re not panicking anymore, are you?”
“Not currently, no. I definitely had been until you intervened. So, um, thank you.” Bonnie’s mouth felt dry and tight, remembering the glass of water in her hand, drank the full glass in a single mouthful. She saw Remadia smiling wide again out of the corner of her eye and wished she had another glass of water.
“I dare say, Bonnie; impressive. What are you drinking?”
“Water, m’lady- I mean, Remadia.”
Remadia gave her a playful punch on the arm. “Oh, please, Bonnie, how are you supposed to get into trouble if you’re only drinking water?”
“I don’t like to drink, and I really don’t want to, uh, get into trouble.”
“Nonsense! I had this absolutely wonderful port brought in this morning - though that scrawny weasel Lord McKinsey could barely handle the scent of it, let alone a full glass - I’m sure that it’ll do wonders for your disposition, and-” Remadia had begun to wander away from Bonnie as she rambled, only to be halted by Bonnie’s hand, large enough to almost fully envelop her bicep.
“Please, Lady Seneca.”
Remadia was taken aback by the unexpected desperation in Bonnie’s voice, and turned her head to contemplate the knuckles of Bonnie’s fingers, so very gently wrapped around her arm. She felt the protest she had been going to say melt away in her throat as her eyes followed up Bonnie’s arm to meet her pleading gaze. Her eyes looked golden in the light from the windows behind Remadia, dark eyelashes blending in against the dark eyeshadow the twins had given her. Remadia felt her heart soften and reached up to pull Bonnie’s hand from her arm. Bonnie opened her mouth to say something, but Remadia didn’t hear it as she wrapped her own arms around Bonnie, hugging her tightly, face buried fully in the warmth of Bonnie’s bosom.
Shocked, Bonnie hesitantly returned the hug with one arm, her other coming up to gingerly stroking Remadia’s hair. “Remadia, are you drunk?”
There was a mumbled response, but Remadia’s words were muffled by the fabric of Bonnie’s dress.
“Sorry, couldn’t hear that.” Bonnie stopped petting Remadia’s hair to gently grip it and pressure Remadia into tilting her head back and out of Bonnie’s chest.
“Perhaps moreso than I thought, dear Bonnie, but not hideously.” Remadia’s eyes wandered across Bonnie’s face before they narrowed, darting around conspiratorially, before she said, “Come here, love, I have a secret I wish to share with you and being eye-level with the underside of your tits makes that difficult. Lean down to me.”
Bonnie was confused, and somewhat surprised by Remadia’s bruskness. “Remadia, we’re alone here, you can speak.”
“Yes, but secrets are no fun unless they’re whispered! Come down to my level.” Remadia had a mischievous grin on her face that she was struggling to conceal.
Bonnie rolled her eyes and acquiesced, leaning down to Remadia’s level, before her face was suddenly grasped between Remadia’s hands, and she felt soft lips against hers. In a moment of shock, Bonnie froze, mouth slack and eyes wide, and in that moment she felt fingers cradle her chin and grip the back of her head as Remadia’s tongue parted her lips. She could taste the wine Remadia had been drinking earlier, bittersweet and something she would normally find disagreeable.
In this moment, however, she wasn’t sure if she found it unpleasant.
As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Remadia’s eyes were unfocused as she pulled away, a light flush on her face, before meeting Bonnie’s stunned gaze, letting go of Bonnie’s face with one hand and patting her cheekily with the other. She winked at Bonnie. “I have a party to return to, dear Bonnie. Weren’t you glad you leaned down?” She wiped the sides of her mouth with her thumb, swiping away a smear of lipstick and spittle, before turning the same attention to Bonnie’s mouth with that same thumb. She patted Bonnie’s cheek again. “To trouble?”
With that, she was gone, and Bonnie was left dumbfounded as Remadia disappeared back into the party. Bonnie looked around, still not processing what had just happened. The other balcony either didn’t notice what happened, or had, and were gossiping quietly amongst themselves about it.
“Uh, yeah. To trouble,” Bonnie said to the open air, “I guess.”
-To Trouble?-
It took her the better part of thirty minutes to regain her senses and reenter the party, catching sight of and chasing down one of the men with serving trays of drinks, someone who in any other situation was her peer, and as she approached him, she noticed a change in how she was carrying herself. Her back was straighter, and she felt more confident, no longer shying away from the curious and judgmental gazes being cast her way. She still felt out of place, but no longer did she feel like a sheep amongst wolves. To trouble, she thought to herself as she grabbed two glasses of some sort of foreign juice, confirming with the serving man that it wasn’t wine. She turned around to perhaps find someone to talk to, only to discover that someone had come to her as she nearly walked in to him, managing to keep her glasses of juice steady.
“Forgive me, my lady, I didn’t mean to startle you,” The man said, offering a sweeping bow as Bonnie stepped back from him, eyeing him carefully. His dark, thick lashes lifted to reveal wondrous hazel eyes, which rose to meet her own. He quirked an eyebrow as a playful grin tugged at the corner of his lips, and Bonnie felt her heart flutter. He was beautiful.
“No, please, forgive me!” Bonnie managed to say, panicking. “I should have looked before I started walking.” She was at a loss for words, unsure of how to proceed. She could feel her new confidence fading rapidly. She faltered, stumbling for words. She noticed he didn’t have a drink, and held out one of hers. “Juice?”
The man took her awkwardness in stride, accepting the glass graciously. “Thank you, my lady.” He sniffed it, swirling the glass before taking a sip. “Not wine?”
“Oh, no, I don’t care much for drinking.”
“Do you care much for dancing?”
He asked it so idly, it took Bonnie a moment to pick up on what his question implied, and she felt her face grow hot as she blushed. She stammered, mouth searching for a response, as she watched the look on the man’s face grow concerned.
“Have I asked something wrong? Do I offend?”
“Oh, n-no! You don’t, I don’t, nobody’s ever, uh-” she stuttered, words stumbling out of her mouth, “I’m too big.” The area from her neck to her ears felt as if they were on fire, she was so flushed in embarrassment.
The man grinned wolfishly at her, worrying in its similarity to Remadia’s. “Am I to understand that nobody has ever asked you to dance?”
Bonnie finally managed to get her mouth under control, though it felt dry “I’ve never been taught, and I, uh,” she paused, taking a drink from her glass “most people find my, uh, size,” she paused again, “to be intimidating.” His grin softened, and she couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with him. She finished drinking the rest of her juice.
“I don’t find your size to be intimidating.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly his hand was in hers, and the empty glass was divested from her fingers, and for the second time that night Bonnie was being led away. Before she knew it they were standing on the dancefloor surrounded by other dancing pairs. The music seemed too loud and her heart pounded in her throat. Her new companion, however, remained calm as he took her left hand and placed it on his right arm, placed his right hand just below her shoulder blade, took her right hand in his left, and with a shout of “move with me!” he raised their conjoined hands and confidently began to move them both to the rhythm of the music. Bonnie struggled to keep to the simple steps he was guiding her through, always being led by his assertive but gentle directions. After a minute of stiff shuffling, however, Bonnie began to relax into the dance. Eventually, she became less aware of the loud music, and was finally able to focus on the face of her companion, who was confident and relaxed, despite her clumsy, so-called dancing.
Those enchanting hazel eyes met hers, glittering jewels of amber and emerald set against deep, olive skin; dark, perfectly coiffed hair, shaved down on the sides; a handlebar moustache and the dark patch below framing a pair of impressively shapely lips, plump and dusky pink. Those soft-looking lips lifted into a smirk as her gaze lingered upon them.
“See something you like, my lady?” He said, raising his voice to be heard over the music.
Bonnie felt herself blush reflexively, but there was something in the quirk of his mouth and the words he said that reminded her again of Remadia, and the words, to trouble, floated to the forefront of her thoughts. She felt a rush of confidence and the words, “Maybe I do, little man,” spilled out of her mouth before she could think about what she was saying. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized what she had just said - how she said it like a challenge - and she was terrified of his response.
It was like she had cast chum into shark-infested waters.
His hand tightened around hers firmly, and the hand on her shoulder blade dropped to her waist, pulling her in tightly to him. He began to move their dance between the other couples, twisting and turning, his eyes locked to hers and the intensity between them building as he led them away from the band and eventually off the dancefloor, just as the orchestra finished playing.
“Might the lady tell me what it is she likes?” He said, his gaze no less intense now that they were away from dancefloor. He was still holding her to him.
“How honest do you want me to be?” Bonnie said, raising her eyebrow. She hoped the question sounded confident. She felt reckless. Excited. She felt his hand slide down below her waist, coming to rest at the top of her rump.
“At least as honest as I am.”
Bonnie felt a throb of lust pulse through her. To trouble!
-To Trouble!-
The door hadn’t even fully shut behind them before he had pulled her down into a passionate kiss, and, unlike earlier, Bonnie didn’t just let the kiss happen to her in shock. She bent down, wrapping her hands under his ass, and lifted him, pinning him against the wall. Bonnie could feel his cock through his pants, throbbing against the underside of her breasts as she leaned into him and he wrapped his legs around her. “Just a little further down the hall now, pretty boy.” She said against his lips, her forehead pressed against his. He kissed her again as she pulled him away from the wall and began to carry him down the corridor, his mouth moving from her lips down her cheek and along her jawline. “I don’t even know your name,” she said, kissing the nape of his neck and fumbling with the doorknob to the receiving room she had been leading him to.
“Pretty boy will do.”
“I like it,” she said as she opened the door, following it inwards, thankful that there wasn’t anybody inside. “I like you, pretty boy.”
“Absolutely wonderful. Would you mind if I showed you my own form of appreciation?” Pretty boy asked as he unwrapped his legs from her, lowering himself down her body, laying kisses along the way. Then he reached her waist and one hand began to lift up the hem of her dress as the other cupped her large backside, fingers digging into the dense flesh there. He began to guide her backwards towards the wall, and, when he felt her back connect, disappeared under her dress. She gasped as she felt soft lips greeting her clit, her knees going weak as he sucked hard and his tongue moved against her.
“Oh, pretty boy, I like that,” she moaned hard as he answered her praise with his tongue, penetrating her, licking shallow and and then deep.
He stopped for a moment, and from beneath her dress she heard, “Tell me, what is your name?”
“Bonnie.” She whimpered as he sucked gently on her. He paused.
“The Goliath of Chapel Bay?”
“The very same,” she managed to trill out - a confident, no, a pleased thrill running up her core at the recognition - as he ate at her with renewed vigour. She tried to pull his head into her with her thighs, but she couldn’t regain control of her legs, barely managing to stay upright as she felt the hand on her ass dig aggressively into her flesh. His other hand ran along her skin, gently teasing at the sensitive skin between her pucker and her cunt before his fingers worked their way up, parting her and gently playing at her slick, sensitive and swollen opening.
He pulled away, breathing heavily. “I never thought I’d meet you like this. You’re so much bigger than I could have imagined.”
“You like them big, pretty boy?” she managed to gasp, before suddenly his fingers were inside her, and his mouth was working her clit and her breath was knocked from her as she came, shaking against his face. Her abdominal muscles tensed as the orgasm rocked through her and she lost control of her legs, her hips grinding forward as her hand clamped down against the back of his head to hold him in place. Guttural sounds managed to escape her throat as she choked on air, trying to regain some sense of composure and failing wonderfully. Trembling, she sank against the wall and down to the floor.
As she struggled to lower herself, he remained in this crouched position, and the weight of her body drew her dress off him, revealing his smiling face, moustache damp and unstyled with her juices.
“Like is a bit of an understatement, methinks. A man does not climb the highest peaks for mere like of the mountain.” He said it so earnestly Bonnie felt her heart leap in her chest. She tried to respond, but her mouth was dry and her eyes unfocused. She reached out to drag him in for a kiss, but he grabbed her hand, suddenly attentive to something outside the room. She couldn’t hear anything over her own heartbeat. He leaned in and kissed her, and when he pulled away, her face was sticky with her own come. “Forgive me, Bonnie. My companions call for me.” In a blink, he was standing up and moving towards the door.
“You’re leaving?” Bonnie whined pathetically as he walked away. He stopped before opening the door, and took a deep bow.
“I swear to you, Bonnie, Goliath of Chapel Bay, our paths will cross again.” And with that, he was gone, the door closing behind him with a click!
“Damn it,” Bonnie said, as she began to pull herself together. She stood up, still shaky, and began to pat down her dress, making sure she hadn’t soaked through her clothes. “Oh I bet I reek.” She muttered to herself. Her head was muddled with afterglow, but she felt confident that she at least looked presentable.
Now to do something about the smell, she thought as she left the room, making a stumbling detour away from the party and towards the twins’ quarters.
-Back to the Party-
Bonnie took longer than she had expected to return to the party, and not in the way that she had wanted. She was still horny and had been hoping the twins were amenable to resolving that particular issue, but they weren’t in their quarters, so Bonnie found their perfumes and spritzed herself with one that smelled strongly of roses before she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The careful makeup that the twins had given her was smeared horribly, the color applied to her lips spread about her mouth, so she found a kerchief and set about cleaning up her face as carefully as possible, trying to preserve what she could.
By the time she made it back to the main hall, the party was drawing to a close and Remadia’s guests were filing out the doors. Bonnie scanned the crowd, expecting to see the Countess somewhere bidding her guests farewell, but she was nowhere to be found amidst the rabble. She looked elsewhere throughout the main hall, and almost walked past the door to the balcony that they had gone out onto earlier, when she stopped, turning to peer through the glass. Remadia sat on a bench that hadn’t been there earlier, arms at her sides and feet idly kicking as she looked out over the balcony ledge.
Bonnie pushed through the doors, not acknowledged by Remadia until Bonnie was sitting next to her. “Bit lonely out here, isn’t it?”
Remadia waved off the comment, unfazed by Bonnie’s sudden appearance. “Pshaw, my dear Bonnie. It’s a lovely night in my city, and I knew you’d find me eventually,” she said as if it were a matter of fact, her voice thick and worn from the night. She yawned, stretching herself out before commandeering Bonnie’s arm, pulling it around her like a blanket as she leaned into Bonnie and rested her head fully against Bonnie’s breast. “You stink hideously of roses, my dear, and I know that’s not the perfume I gave you earlier,” she remarked,  before cuddling deeper against Bonnie, nuzzling her face against Bonnie’s breast as much as she could from the side.
Bonnie had felt a flush creeping across her face from the moment Remadia had started touching her, but she blushed fully in response to her statement. “I, well,” Bonnie gulped as Remadia looked up from her tit, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity. “I took your toast to trouble to heart, and found myself a little trouble.”
Remadia raised both of her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh really? How utterly droll, my dear.” Remadia purred, only moving her mouth from its position against Bonnie so that she could speak with relative clarity. “Was it a scuffle? A row? Or was it romantic trouble? Did you dance?”
Bonnie smiled down softly at Remadia. “We danced, yes.” Then she smirked, looking out towards the lighthouse in the bay. “Then he ate me out in the receiving room off the back corridor.”
Remadia purred with delight, wrapping her arm around Bonnie’s waist and hugging her tightly. “Nothing further?”
“Left me quivering on the floor. The beautiful bastard scarpered before I could beg him to fuck me.”
“Beg? I think the word you use is too strong, my dear.” She pulled her arm off of Bonnie’s waist and used it to secure Bonnie’s arm more tightly against her. “You were far too much woman for him to handle. I, on the other hand, could show you what begging for a good fuck is really like,” she said, as casually as one would contemplate the weather, “though I would never dream to be so rude as to just abandon you on the floor.”
Bonnie choked, sputtering as her heart ground to a halt in her chest, her entire body tensing. She could feel lustful warmth resurging back into her loins, but her brain was frozen in panic. When Remadia spoke, her words were too loud, startling Bonnie.
“You know what I absolutely adore about you, dear Bonnie? How honest you are. Sometimes you talk yourself in circles, but your face and your body always tell the truth.”
Bonnie remained still, unable to move. Remadia let go of her grip on Bonnie’s arm and moved her hands instead to and around Bonnie’s waist, turning her body in to Bonnie’s. She hoisted one leg dramatically in the air, twisting herself further so that she could straddle Bonnie’s lap with it, supporting herself almost entirely against Bonnie’s sturdy frame. Then, once that was settled and her leg was locked firmly around Bonnie, heel digging into the cleft of Bonnie’s butt, she used it as leverage to awkwardly lift her other leg so that it could be wrapped around Bonnie’s waist as well. Her face never left Bonnie’s chest, and Remadia had situated herself in such a way - arms slung under Bonnie’s bust and around her waist, with her hips cocked upward against Bonnie’s stomach - as to allow her face to now be fully buried in the fabric of Bonnie’s bosom. Bonnie hadn’t budged an inch throughout the endeavor, and Remadia began to moan, her head lolling from side to side.
“Remadia, are you okay?” Bonnie asked, concerned.
Remadia rolled her head against the top of one breast, so that she was peering up at her through a heavily squinting eye. “I’m drunk and the world has begun to spin, and all I want,” she was interrupted by a yawn, “is to use these big, lovely tits of yours as my pillows so that I may regain my composure and fuck you silly.” She returned her face to the crevice she had burrowed into the fabric of Bonnie’s bosom, lifting her arms to squeeze Bonnie’s breasts around her ears.
Bonnie felt her face heat up for what felt like the hundredth time that night, but felt the need to take control of the situation. “Let’s get you to bed, then.” Bonnie could hear Remadia’s muffled response of “yes, let me bed you,” and sighed.
Bonnie had had enough.
“All right, you foul fuckin’ mess, let’s go.” Bonnie wrapped her arms underneath Remadia’s rump, lifting her so that Bonnie could stand up. Remadia squealed, briefly lifting her face from Bonnie’s cleavage to speak, eyes and smile excited as she kicked her feet gleefully against Bonnie’s butt.
“I feel like a child in your arms, this is wonderful!” and then her face was buried away again. Bonnie could barely make out her continuation of, “Why haven’t I had you do this before?” as she walked back to the door.
“Because, you embarrassment of a woman, I’ve been your personal bodyguard, and we have had an otherwise professional relationship.”
“But I don’t want that now. I was a fool!”
“Was? Are.”
“Bonnie,” she whined, drawing it out as long and as pathetically as she could and flailing her heels ineffectually at Bonnie’s hips.
Ignoring her, Bonnie made her way through the hall, paying no attention to the curious looks of the people cleaning up and making her way towards the corridor that would lead to Remadia’s quarters.
As she walked through the corridor doors, Remadia squeezed Bonnie, both hands slapping her back in urgency. “Wait!” she cried out from Bonnie’s chest, with a tone of panic so intense that it stopped Bonnie in her tracks.
“What is it? What’s the matter?”
Remadia loosened up. “Privy. Hurry.”
“You wretch.” Bonnie picked up the pace. “Are you going to hurl all over me or do you have to piss?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Bonnie hurried to the privy as quickly as possible, being careful not to jostle Remadia more than necessary. She threw open the door and - gently - deposited Remadia on the burnished wood of the privy, quickly turning around and leaving her to do her business, despite Remadia’s mournful whine of, “Don’t abandon me.”
-She Doesn’t Abandon Her-
“You do know that if you don’t cuddle with me, I’m going to follow you to your room.” Remadia sat, now naked, on her bed, patting the space next to her. Somewhere between the privy and her quarters she had managed to regain a modicum of composure, though she had a tendency to overbalance from one side to the other as she attempted to maintain her posture.
Bonnie, still fully dressed, groaned, frustrated and refusing to look at her. “You petulant brat.”
“I told you my plan on the balcony, Bonnie. You have yet to tell me no.”
“We’re not,” Bonnie spluttered, “I am- you,” too many words tried to make their way out of her mouth at once. “You’re drunk.”
“Is that your only complaint?”
“Well-” Bonnie hesitated.
“Speak frankly, if you’re looking for permission.”
“I wasn’t, but-”
“Then we can cuddle ever-so-chastely tonight, and tomorrow I can fuck you in the way your beautiful companion was too cowardly to.”
“Remadia, I keep saying this: I am your bodyguard,” Bonnie shouted. She could see Remadia out of the corner of her eye. Remadia clapped her hands over her mouth, and Bonnie turned, finally looking to meet her eyes. She hoped that Remadia finally understood the predicament Bonnie was in.
Bonnie was taken aback by the fawning adoration in her eyes, like how a child looks at a newborn puppy.
“Oh Bonnie, is that truly it? Truly?” she clapped excitedly, like a child receiving a gift. “Oh how I adore you! It’s no wonder the twins are so infatuated with you, you’re so earnest.”
“I- what? You know?”
Remadia callously waved away Bonnie’s shock. “Oh, of course I know, dear, the twins tell me absolutely everything, and it is the absolute sweetest thing. They’ve never been so enamoured with a person before, let alone the same person. Their infatuation with you is so thorough as to be infectious!”
Bonnie was at a loss for words, her mouth stuttering out, “propriety!”
Remadia gave Bonnie a withering glare. “Bonnie, propriety has its place, and that is with those who make it their life. If I were a woman concerned with propriety, I would have married some petulant merchant skunk and left my own desires to fall to the wayside instead of becoming one of the most powerful women in the country.” Remadia stood up, suddenly full of fire, marching up to Bonnie. “If I were a woman concerned only with propriety, I might have married the Duke of Braugh instead of throwing his letters into the cesspit where they belonged, and he may never have tried to wage his foolish war on me, and he might have been sitting here, in my manor, this very night, instead of cowering in his shit-caked castle in the muddy lowlands with half his land given to me in surrender. And you,” her finger delivering a vicious tap to Bonnie’s sternum, “would never have become the oh-so infamous Goliath of Braugh, and I would have never shown up in your village after hearing of your exploits, and I would never have asked you to serve as my bodyguard, and claimed you as my Goliath, the Goliath of Chapel Bay. My Bonnie. Do not speak to me of propriety!” Her voice had become unexpectedly shrill.
Bonnie, overcome with emotions too conflicted and struggling against each other that she couldn’t put words to how she felt, wrapped her arms around Remadia tightly in a hug. She understood Remadia’s passion, but Remadia couldn’t understand what she’d lost, especially as she was now, and she didn’t want to spoil it with any of the grim thoughts that came to mind. Remadia’s fists were balled, arms tight to her sides, before reluctantly wrapping themselves around Bonnie and returning the hug. Bonnie rested her chin on Remadia’s head.
“Perhaps I’ve been going the wrong way about it, because it’s never something that I’ve consciously given thought to.”
“What’s that?”
“My overtures towards you, maybe I’ve been too unthinking with them, drink and lust clouding my mind, instead of me trying to be as honest as you are with me.”
“How do you mean, Remadia?”
Bonnie could feel Remadia swallow against her before she spoke, her voice soft and croaking, worn from the night and the sudden rush of emotions. “What I’ve been trying to say with so many words is, Bonnie, that I’m very lonely, and I’m very tired, and the year you’ve been here has frankly been the most wonderful - no, memorable part of my life. I went to war against so-called propriety, my Bonnie, and I got you in return: something, someone, so much more valuable than any land or titles given to me by that reprehensible waste of human existence.  I want you to spend this night with me because I want to feel comfortable in someone else’s presence, truly comfortable with someone for the first time in my entire life”
Bonnie’s hummed reassuredly, tightening her arms around Remadia as she rubbed her cheek against the top of her head. She pressed her lips and began to rock softly from side to side. Moments passed and she felt a single, silent sob rack Remadia’s body. She slowly loosened her grip, rubbing her fingers gently into Remadia’s back as she allowed herself be pulled away. Remadia attempted to maintain her facade of composure in vain as her arms fell limply to her sides, her reddened eyes locked to Bonnie’s chin to avoid looking at the soft smile on her lips. Bonnie’s hands still rested on Remadia’s shoulders as they stood there in a comfortable silence. Bonnie sighed and leaned down so Remadia was forced to look her in the eyes, giving a cheeky grin as Remadia gave a single, defiant sniffle.
“Okay, you needy bitch, get this girdle off me. I’ll hold your wee, simpering form in my big strong arms and whisper sweet-nothings in your ear.”
Remadia’s facade broke, a wide grin splitting her face as she slapped Bonnie’s arm. “Oh, why thank you, my big, strong knight.” She giggled gently, her hands wiping the sudden tears of relief that had welled in her eyes. “Whatever would I do without you?”
Their laughter continued, growing, as Remadia moved behind Bonnie and began to untie the lacing of her girdle. Bonnie relaxed as the pressure of the restrictive garment was relieved, her skin prickling where the girdle had been. The lacings holding up the dress came off next, and Bonnie felt freed as she let the dress fall from her shoulders to her waist, and she heard a soft gasp from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and caught Remadia’s eye, smiled cheekily, then brought her arms above her head and flexed, causing the muscles of her back to bulge.
Bonnie had never seen Remadia blush before.
Bonnie pulled the dress off her waist and down her body, slowly, deliberately; milking the attention she was being given for all it was worth as she showed off her powerful build for Remadia. She pulled the dress tight so that it bit into her thick, muscular ass, slowly dragging it down so more and more flesh muffined out over the top of the fabric before it all popped out, flexing each cheek and dancing her hips from side to side as she pulled the dress down her corded thighs; her thick calves. She turned to face Remadia with a confident grin, hoping that she had enjoyed the show.
Remadia looked like a cat who had just discovered a bowl of rich cream.
“Shall we retire?” Bonnie gestured towards the bed, raising an eyebrow as suavely as she could muster.
“Oh,” Remadia purred, “my dear, I have been waiting for you to ask me that all night.”
Remadia didn’t move, however, and Bonnie was confused. Guessing that Remadia was waiting for her to go first, Bonnie crawled onto the bed, and was rewarded with an appreciative hum from Remadia. As she had with the dress, she crawled across the bed deliberately, stretching out her legs and arms and moving so that her muscles rippled and bulged with the shifting of her weight, prowling across the mattress. She reached the pillows, finishing her show for Remadia with a wink, and gracelessly flopped onto the bed.
“All right, my lady. Time for bed.” Bonnie turned to find Remadia staring at her, eyes barely focused and doing nothing to hide the lustful delight on her face as she bit excitedly at her lower lip.
Bonnie’s words snapped Remadia out of her thoughts. “Oh, right. Bed.” Remadia crawled hastily onto the bed, before she stopped. “I forgot the candles,” she muttered, turning around and busying herself snuffing out the lights around the room. Bonnie had seen Remadia in various states of undress, but had never really appreciated Remadia’s body until now.
She paid particular attention to how Remadia’s pear-shaped backside, broad and dimpled, jiggled with every step she took, rocking from side to side with the movement of her hips. Bonnie watched as the orange light of the candles played against Remadia’s pale skin, following the curve of her body up her arm to her delicate fingers holding the snuffer.
The last candle went out, and Remadia made her way back onto the bed, where Bonnie was waiting for her eagerly on her side, waiting to play the big spoon. She felt the shifting of the mattress as Remadia moved, but instead of crawling inside Bonnie’s embrace she pushed Bonnie over onto her back, and sprawled herself on top of Bonnie, her face resting on the soft skin of Bonnie’s sternum.
“Is this uncomfortable for you, dear Bonnie?” Remadia whispered, laying a small kiss against the inside of Bonnie’s breast. “Gods, you are so warm.”
“It’ll do, seeing as I doubt I have a say in the matter.”
“Good girl,” she said, shifting her head and kissing the inside of Bonnie’s other breast.
Bonnie had to restrain a giggle as she felt Remadia’s arms come up along her sides and around each breast, hugging them together to smother her head. “You like those, don’t you.” Remadia squeezed her arms tight several times in succession, jiggling Bonnie’s breasts so they slapped against her head, before letting them fall to the side.
“They’re quite nice, yes,” she mumbled. Bonnie brought an arm up to gently stroke Remadia’s head. “That’s quite nice, too.”
“Mm,” Bonnie hummed, taking long, slow breaths, her hand stroking Remadia’s hair and down her back, rubbing small circles with strong fingers. Remadia let out pleased hums when Bonnie rubbed in the right places. She felt Remadia beginning to relax, her head rising and falling on Bonnie’s broad chest. Soon Remadia’s body was slack with sleep.
Bonnie stared into the darkness, mind still whirling from the night’s events.
To trouble, she thought, as sleep began to take her.
-To Trouble! This Time, with Feeling-
Bonnie awoke to the sounds of drawers being shuffled through.
When she opened her eyes, she was lying on her side, and partially under the covers. Beyond the bed, she could see Remadia busying herself with something in front of the mirror, clad only in a garterbelt and stockings, eliciting a small, “oh!” of appreciation from Bonnie. She watched Remadia’s shapely behind as she bent over to pull something out of a basket next to her. Remadia, hearing Bonnie, snapped upright, excited.
“Bonnie, you’re awake. Are you ready, my dear?” she asked, slapping something against her palm. It took Bonnie a moment, and sitting upright, to recognize that Remadia was holding a riding crop. “I have already cleared my morning plans, so we have some time to ourselves.”
“O-oh,” Bonnie stuttered, feeling a thoroughly surprising, but not unwelcome, thrum of lust roll through her body. Her eyes wandered from the riding crop to her narrow shoulders, across creamy skin to the pale areolae of her gently-sloped breasts, and down Remadia’s stomach, soft handles hugged tightly by the black lace of the garter belt, stretched over broad hips. The straps that held Remadia’s stockings up framed her coppery bush. “I wasn’t, uh, expecting this to happen so quickly.”
“I remember being quite forthright with my intentions, dear.” Remadia looked at the riding crop in her hands. “Is it the crop? Is that too much?”
“Oh, uh, no. I don’t think so. You’re just, um,” Bonnie struggled to find the words to the feelings of arousal and intimidation she was experiencing. She felt like the emotions should be at odds with one another, but instead they fed into one another as she stared at Remadia in her scant lingerie. “You’re more, well, dressed up for this than I guess I’d expected?”
The clear ring of Remadia’s affectionate laughter reddened Bonnie’s ears in embarassment. “Oh, Bonnie. Dear Bonnie. I adore every innocent fiber of your pure and earnest soul.”
She spoke with such fondness Bonnie couldn’t bear to look at her. She felt like a child being condescended as she contemplated the edges of the woven rug behind Remadia’s feet. “I don’t see what’s so innocent about fucking,” she muttered, her mouth pursing into a pout.
“Oh, my love, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, please!” She took a few soft steps towards the bed. “I just enjoy the presentation of it all. The showmanship sets the scene, my dear. Forgive me, my love, and come sit closer for a moment?”
Bonnie sighed apologetically as she released the petulant anger she’d been holding, her shoulders relaxing as she nodded in assent and scooched herself along the bed so that she was sitting on the edge closest to Remadia. She couldn’t bring herself to actually look at her, because now she was embarrassed over how she reacted. She wanted to do this, she just was not used to this level of ceremony in the bedroom. Bonnie was used to more carnal, base affairs; or, preferably, gentle, loving intimacy. Never something so directed.
Remadia strolled towards Bonnie with hard, deliberate steps, swinging her hips with every movement, and snapped the riding crop up under Bonnie’s chin. With gentle pressure, Bonnie let her chin be lifted ever-so slightly and turned so that her eyes were level with Remadia’s. “Am I forgiven, my Bonnie?”
The look she was being given sent a trail of liquid fire through her, melting her insides, pooling in her loins. Her mouth was dry, but she managed to voice a soft, “yes, of course.”
“Then, tell me, love, is this all right?”
Bonnie nodded, slack-jawed.
Remadia leaned forward, lips barely touching the shell of Bonnie’s ear. “Tell me, my dear, what it is that you don’t want me to do,” she whispered.
Bonnie struggled to collect her thoughts, her mind forgetting its previous embarrassment and now racing with lust. Her hands were balled in her lap, and with Remadia’s shoulder just in front of her face, she was having a hard time resisting the urge to kiss the base of Remadia’s neck. “I, uh, can’t seem to think of anything that I’d say no to at the moment.”
Remadia laid a kiss in front of her ear. “Then I’ll be very gentle with you, my dear,” she murmured against Bonnie’s skin, laying a soft trail with her lips towards Bonnie’s mouth before capturing it in a passionate kiss. When she pulled away, Bonnie’s skin was flushed and Bonnie was left with a lazy grin. “I know what I like, but I don’t know what you like, beyond what the twins have told me. Do you like tender?”
Bonnie could feel the tip of the riding crop sliding down her neck. She swallowed dryly. “I do. Definitely.” The wide leather piece tickled at her throat before sliding between her breasts, causing her skin to prickle with gooseflesh and her pectoral muscles to spasm. The piece trailed across the heavy curve of one breast, and lingered at the sensitive ring of her areola before giving a sudden, stinging flick across her perked nipple. Bonnie gasped.
“How about that, my dear?” Remadia said as she kissed Bonnie’s lower lip, taking it between her lips and gently sucking on it. Bonnie moaned as the crop continued to gently play with her nipple. Remadia pulled away, pulling Bonnie’s lip as far as it could go before it slipped from between her lips with a wet pop!
“I,” Bonnie stumbled, “wow.”
“Talk to me, my dear, tell me what you’re thinking.” As Remadia spoke, the riding crop had resumed its trail south, tickling at Bonnie’s stomach, and Remadia licked her lips as she watched Bonnie’s powerful gut muscles twitch and dance under the crop. Then, Bonnie’s muscles still tense, the crop teased down lower, slipping behind where Bonnie’s balled fists had remained in her lap, not knowing where to go.
Bonnie could feel the crop playing at her bush, and then with a gentle push from Remadia, she felt the broad, flat leather of the bit rub slickly down her mound, the rod of the crop cool and hard against her clit. She hissed between clenched teeth, shuddering as she unclenched her hands to grip her thighs. “Sheesh,” she paused to take a breath, “wow, you really, uh-” Bonnie was at a loss for words.
“I what, darling?”
“You put much more showmanship into this than the twins do,” Bonnie said. “Artemis and Apollo are much more about throwing themselves at me and figuring it out from there.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, dear. Those two are very,” she took a moment, toying with the crop against Bonnie’s crotch, making Bonnie shudder against it, before finishing her statement, “impatient.” Remadia gripped Bonnie’s chin firmly before kissing her again. “Now, my dear, I need you to turn over onto your knees and present your lovely fat ass to me.” She withdrew the now-slick crop from the crevice of Bonnie’s thighs.
“Yes, my lady,” Bonnie said as she began to turn, moving around so she was on all fours.
“I’m so glad you’re getting into this, my dear Bonnie, but I must ask, how do you feel about being lashed with my crop?” Bonnie could hear the crack of the crop against Remadia’s hand.
“What? Why?” Bonnie looked behind her to find Remadia with a look of disappointment on her face.
“I ask because, although I adore your sense of propriety, I thought I was quite clear last night with how I want you to address me when we’re not bound by formalities,” she said, before she began to play at Bonnie’s exposed sex with the crop.
Bonnie understood that it was intended as some sort of punishment. “Oh.” She let out a moan as the leather danced between her sensitive folds, “I guess give it a try and I will, uh, let you know, Remadia.”
Crack! Bonnie gasped as her body rocked forward involuntarily away from the blow, happening so much more quickly than she had been expecting. Tingling waves of pain and pleasure blossomed from where the rod had connected at the bottom of her raised rump. “Are you alright, dear?” She heard from behind her. She was still reeling from the blow. It stung, and the lingering pain was beginning to overtake any pleasure she might have felt from it. It stung in a way that hurt differently from any blow she’d ever weathered. It was humiliating.
“Can we, um, maybe not with the rod?” she said, sheepishly. She tried to control the hurt in her voice, and she didn’t know why there was suddenly tears in her eyes. Immediately, the riding crop was gone, and there was movement on the bed as Remadia climbed onto it and around to Bonnie’s side, pressing her full body against her in a hug as she shushed and apologized to Bonnie. She leaned down to Bonnie’s face, gently kissing her.
“I’m so sorry, my dear, it’s all right. It’s all right.” Soft, gentle kisses from Remadia between each word. “We are here for pleasure, our pleasure.” More soft kisses as Remadia stroked her hair and hugged Bonnie’s head to her. Remadia tipped Bonnie’s head back, and peppered her mouth with apologetic pecks, her lips moving to kiss the small tears of shame that had beaded on Bonnie’s eyelashes. She mouthed her way down Bonnie’s cheek until she found her lips again, moving against them and feeding into more passionate, longer, slow kisses as their mouths opened against each other, her tongue playing softly with Bonnie’s.
The stinging of the welt on her backside faded quickly from Bonnie’s mind as she lost herself in the kiss, one hand moving to cup the back of Remadia’s head, the other coming up along her side to cup Remadia’s hip, large fingers digging into the ample flesh of her backside. Bonnie massaged Remadia’s butt, earning a series of small moans from Remadia as she leaned into the kiss.
After a moment, Remadia broke the kiss, panting. “Do you mind, my dear, if I spank at your ass with only my hands? Not as punishment, but because I wish to play with it.”
“That’s,” Bonnie paused, considering it. “That’s fine. I don’t know why I started crying like that, I’m sorry.”
Remadia put a finger against Bonnie’s lips. “Shush, now, dear, you need not apologize. Sometimes you do not enjoy a thing because it comes with emotional baggage, and sometimes you do not enjoy a thing simply because you do not find the thing enjoyable.” She laid a gentle kiss to Bonnie’s forehead. “You do not need to explain yourself, either, just tell me when I’ve crossed the line.”
Bonnie was grateful for that. She didn’t know how to explain the pain to Remadia, because she herself wasn’t sure why it had affected her so much.
“Now, if you would lie down so that I might play with your butt, my dear.”
“Oh, right.” Bonnie said, stretching herself out and propping her head up on her arms.
Remadia moved herself so that she knelt at Bonnie’s hip. “You have such a lovely, powerful ass, my dear,” she purred, taking a cheek under each hand and squeezing hard before massaging them firmly. “I wish you could see it the way I do, Bonnie. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”
Her heart swelling in her chest, Bonnie moaned as Remadia dug into her flesh, working it with gentle force, pushing and pulling, kneading her meaty ass with practiced care. Bonnie felt like so much dough beneath Remadia’s skilled fingertips. She imagined Remadia could feel the intense heat radiating from between her thighs, and as she relaxed even further into Remadia’s ministrations, she imagined those fingers sliding between her cheeks to explore the slippery heat building there.
“My dear, I’m going to smack your ass now so that I can watch it ripple and redden. Is that okay?”
Bonnie nodded, brought back from her fantasies, and hummed her assent as she braced herself.
Smack! Bonnie felt her butt move under the blow, but it didn’t sting like the riding crop had; Remadia’s hand was much softer and lacked the whip of the crop’s flexible rod. Without the weight of punishment, her mind didn’t lock itself up lingering on the blow. She could feel Remadia hesitate beside her, waiting for something.
“Are you alright, love? May I strike again?”
Bonnie hummed her assent again, more confident than before, anticipating and even looking forward to the spank as Remadia’s hand smacked down. Remadia hesitated again, and Bonnie just nodded, arching her back and lifting her butt to meet the next blow. This is almost fun, Bonnie thought, as another spank rang out, this time on the inside of her cheek. Then another, and another, and then another. Each smack began to sting more and more, until after one blow Bonnie shifted her hips to avoid it. Immediately, Remadia began to massage her reddening, swollen skin, and Bonnie moaned. Her moans grew louder as Remadia poured some sort of oil on her sore skin, her busy fingers continuing their ministrations as Remadia whispered loving sweet-nothings to her.
“You are so beautiful, Bonnie; you’re so big and so beautiful,” Remadia murmured. Her praise comforted Bonnie, warmth flooding her chest. “I adore you so much, and you’re doing so well.” Remadia laid a kiss on Bonnie’s butt, and then another, her fingers sliding from the cheeks of Bonnie’s ass and down in between them, pushing and rubbing and kneading. “Thank you,” she murmured against Bonnie’s skin. Then her fingers, well-oiled, slid between Bonnie’s thighs, and toyed with the damp hair they found there, fingertips lightly tickling Bonnie’s folds.
Bonnie had a moment to realize what Remadia was doing before Remadia slipped her fingers inside her, forcing Bonnie to cry out, “Remy!” as pleasure flowed through her body.
“Yes, my dear, finally!” Remadia purred, working her fingers inside Bonnie.
Bonnie gasped and struggled to regain her senses as every thrust of Remadia’s fingers made her squeak and moan. “Please, Remy. Please,” she whimpered. Begged. “Please fuck me.” Then she was empty and Remadia was pulling on her hips and she mindlessly raised herself back onto her knees, obeying her silent commands, and she could feel Remadia moving around behind her. She moaned at the loss of Remadia’s fingers inside her, only to cry out as they were replaced by Remadia’s eager tongue, dancing across her folds with practiced care before diving inside her with long, passionate strokes. Bonnie began to lose focus, her world becoming Remadia lovingly devouring her cunt, her mouth hanging open mindlessly as Remadia began to work Bonnie’s clitoris with her fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut as every muscle in her abdomen twitched in sporadic spasms, before everything tightened at once as she came screaming against Remadia’s face. Remadia didn’t pull away from Bonnie’s orgasm, prolonging it with her expert tongue and gentle fingers. It pulsed through her in waves, and every time Bonnie thought she was done, another pulse would roll through her core, guided by Remadia. A sob escaped her mouth and her arms gave out as yet another wave of soul-shattering pleasure coursed through her, tears welling in her eyes; her mind going blank as Remadia pushed her over the edge and so much further beyond, eyes rolling back into her head as she lost herself, only knowing overwhelming pleasure.
When she was allowed to finally rest, she sobbed in relief as her brain began to reassemble thoughts, piecemeal, and she was able to make sense of her surroundings again. Her upper body was being cradled in Remadia’s lap and sweet words were being whispered into her ear. She could feel Remadia’s fingers tracing gentle circles across the soft muscle above her breast; a mindless, soothing motion.
“You did such a wonderful job, my dear. Thank you.” Gentle kisses were placed along the side of her face. Bonnie leaned into them, turning her head so her lips met Remadia’s, and let their tongues twist together in a languid dance. Remadia pulled back. “You’re so good. You’re wonderful.”
Bonnie grinned, her eyes struggling to focus on Remadia’s, her breathing still shaky. “So, Remy.” Remadia beamed at her, and Bonnie could see a tear well in Remadia’s eye. “How can I return the favor?”
Remadia wiped the tear away with her knuckle. “Oh, well, I can think of some ways, but I think the quickest would be for me to mount your face.”
Bonnie’s brow furrowed in confusion, not expecting such a blunt answer after being given such a thorough fucking. She couldn’t stop herself from pouting. “It doesn’t have to be the quickest, you know.”
“Oh, but dear,” Remadia laughed, “your enthusiasm is wonderful. I do, however, have to return to my duties as the Countess of Chapel Bay at some point today.”
“Oh,” Bonnie huffed, “I guess we can do that. But why ride my face? Why not let me use these big meaty mitts on you?” She cocked an eyebrow, wiggling the fingers of one hand. “I’ve got more in two fingers than most men do in a whole cock.”
Remadia’s laugh was hearty and pure. “My dear, I do so love your way with words.” She caressed Bonnie’s cheek, still smiling. “You might be able to devastate me with those so-called meaty mitts of yours, but me riding your face offers me much more,” she leaned in to whisper in Bonnie’s ear, “control.”
The word sent tingles of warmth fluttering through her loins again. “You do like control, don’t you, Remy?”
“I do so like control.” Remadia began shifting herself out from underneath Bonnie’s shoulders. “Now, on your back and face up, love. Time is of the essence.”
Bonnie complied, rolling over, face up and expectant. Remadia was on her knees above her, and Bonnie was staring up at Remadia’s coppery bush and big, soft thighs that led to the curves of Remadia’s fat ass.
Remadia balanced herself with one hand against Bonnie’s heavy breast, her rough grip making Bonnie gasp, as she spread the lips of her cunt above Bonnie’s eager face. “Bonnie, tongue out and working efficiently. One hand dug firmly into my ass, the other toying with my tit. Your nose might be sore, but I won’t break it, I’m sure.” She looked down between her legs at Bonnie, waiting.
Bonnie felt her heart race as she moved her hands into their prescribed positions. Remadia’s nipple hardened against her palm, the breast weighty and soft against her rough skin. I wonder, Bonnie thought as she gazed at Remadia’s other breast as it hung, heavy and free, pinching the tissue around the areola with her thumb and forefinger and stretching out her pinky and ring finger towards the other areola, capturing it between the first knuckles of her fingers. Nice, she thought, bringing the two breasts together.
Remadia slapped her hand. “I love your proactive attitude, but you can play later.”
Bonnie readjusted her hand so that she firmly gripped only the one breast.
“Ready?”
Bonnie stuck her tongue out so that it laid broad and flat against her chin, upper lip curled over her teeth. “Ready,” she struggled to say with her tongue out.
“Let us begin.”
Bonnie was not as ready as she had thought when her entire world became the soft, hot, damp dark of Remadia’s thighs. Remadia rode hard, driving the wet mouth of her opening against Bonnie’s tongue. Bonnie recovered by arching her tongue into it, firming it so that it drove itself inside Remadia as she ground against Bonnie’s face, and Remadia froze, hands gripping Bonnie’s breasts too hard as she took a second to readjust before bouncing against Bonnie’s stiffened tongue. Suddenly the world was bright as Remadia adjusted herself again, turning herself around so that Bonnie was looking up the front of Remadia’s body. They locked eyes.
“Tongue hard. Suck clit. Hand: thigh. Support me,” Remadia commanded, her gaze unfocused and her mouth open, breath quickened.
Bonnie didn’t bother attempting to reply - and wasn’t give time to - as Remadia picked up right where she had left off. Bonnie complied as best she could as Remadia fucked herself on Bonnie’s tongue. Remadia managed between thrusts to cross her feet beneath Bonnie’s head, and Bonnie lost the ability to breathe as her mouth and nose were sealed against Remadia’s loins. Bonnie, being proactive again, loosened her tongue and began to let it play inside and and against Remadia, licking eagerly at Remadia’s wet hole.
“Gods, Bonnie,” Remadia cried out, “your tongue - fuck!” she bit her lip as she continued to grind against Bonnie’s face. “I don’t think I’ll need your fingers, Bonnie.” She choked for a moment as Bonnie’s tongue dove deep and hard. “Fuck, Bonnie, why’s your tongue so big?” Remadia’s face was red, eyes crossed, and loud, erratic gasps escaping her slack mouth.
Bonnie kept trying to catch breaths through her nose, but Remadia locked her legs behind Bonnie’s head and sat back on her chest, her eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open in a silent cry as she curled herself around Bonnie. Slick juices filled and spilled out of Bonnie’s mouth, but she obediently kept working at Remadia, as Remadia had done for her. When she was allowed to pull her head away, she realized just how soaked she was, her hair matting and stuck to her face and the inside of Remadia’s thigh. The mattress beneath her was not spared, dampened by Remadia’s passionate flood. Shaking, Remadia unhooked her legs from behind Bonnie’s head and stretched them out as she laid backwards atop Bonnie, the joints of her knees cracking harshly in her ears. Her arms fell bonelessly to her sides, resting atop Bonnie’s breasts as she languished in the afterglow of her orgasm, panting heavily. She toyed limply with Bonnie’s nipples, weak fingers pulling at them and slapping at the breast, letting them bounce and jiggle in idle, giggling amusement. Bonnie tried to return the favor, taking Remadia’s breasts roughly in hand, pinching the areolae beneath the nipples and squeezing the whole breast tight. She could feel Remadia spasm against her in response, Remadia’s ass clenching and abdomen tightening as she drew her legs back in against Bonnie’s head. Bonnie was intrigued.
Remadia slapped Bonnie’s hand, hissing, “stop it,” startling Bonnie.
Bonnie let go.
“Thank you,” she said. “Sorry to snap, I get very sensitive post-coitus, and I’m a touch overstimulated, dear.”
Bonnie nodded though Remadia couldn’t see her, and gently massaged the tissue of the breast instead.
“Much better, love. Thank you.” After a moment of enjoying the massage, Remadia lifted Bonnie’s hands off her and had Bonnie readjust herself as she clambered gracelessly around her, so that Bonnie was on her side holding Remadia against her, and Remadia had her head buried into Bonnie’s sternum, sandwiched between her breasts.
Bonnie sighed, tolerating the uncomfortable heat as she started tracing circles against Remadia’s back.
Bonnie had no frame of reference for the time, but the sun seemed like it was getting very late in the morning. She craned her neck down to an uncomfortable degree to put her lips against Remadia’s scalp. “Remy,” she mumbled, kissing her head and pulling back before she strained her neck, “as much as I love cuddling with you, you did say time was of the essence.”
Remadia - who had started drifting in and out of sleep in Bonnie’s warm embrace- stilled, fists balling themselves up against Bonnie’s side. “Damn it,” she muttered, glaring up at Bonnie from between Bonnie’s tits.
Bonnie couldn’t help but to laugh at the sight, letting her go and rolling away. No longer in the moment, Bonnie became aware of the strong and distinct reek of sweat and sex. She stood, stretching her tall body out and groaning with every pop and crackle of her spine. “Let us get going, my lady,” Bonnie said, a cheeky smile on her face as she turned and bowed low, “your Countessness is needed.”
Remadia chucked a pillow at Bonnie’s head. Bonnie laughed as she caught it, throwing it back at Remadia, guffawing as the pillow caught Remadia across the face, knocking her over and making her cry out in surprise.
“Fine!” Remadia laughed, pulling the pillow off her face and making a noise of mock disgust. “I’ll bathe and let my couturiers make me presentable to the world.” She rolled off the bed, turning to consider the dark, damp spots across the mattress left over from their lovemaking. “I’ll have to have this cleaned thoroughly, as well.”
“Indeed,” Bonnie said.
They stood there. A minute passed and Bonnie shuffled her feet, not sure what else to do. Remadia opened her mouth as if to speak, and then closed it. Bonnie curled the toes of one foot, cracking the joints.
“Bonnie, I-” Remadia started.
“Remy, that was amazing.” Bonnie interrupted. “That was incredible. I, uh,” Bonnie was reaching for words to say, “well, that is, I’d like to maybe-?”
Remadia smiled. “Oh, absolutely, Bonnie.” Remadia moved around the bed, closing the distance between her and Bonnie. She reached up and caressed Bonnie’s cheek. “Did you honestly think after all that, I didn’t intend for this to be a regular occurrence?”
Bonnie blushed, embarrassed. “I hadn’t been sure what to to think.”
“Bonnie, I told you I wasn’t going to just abandon you on the floor - the floor being metaphorical in this case,” Remadia stroked Bonnie’s lip with her thumb, “and, anyway, it’s not like I could piss off and away from you, anyway. You are my bodyguard, afterall.”
Bonnie beamed, and Remadia beamed back. “Oh, yeah. I guess I am that, yes.” Bonnie leaned down to Remadia, and Remadia rose to meet her in a soft kiss.
“Okay, my dear, go on and see about cleaning yourself up,” Remadia said, pulling away and giving Bonnie a playful swat on the rear.
“Can’t I see about bathing with you instead?” Bonnie joked as she picked up her dress, still kicked to to the wayside in a careless pile from the night before.
“Please, Bonnie, it’s hard enough to keep my hands off your skin as it is. On! Away with you!” Remadia kept swatting Bonnie’s butt, pushing Bonnie towards the door as Bonnie was scrambling to slip her arms inside the sleeves of the dress.
Laughing, Bonnie managed to get her arms into the dress and over her bust, Remadia unrelenting in her jovial assault. Bonnie turned away from Remadia so that she could wrap the train of the dress around her waist, providing mild modesty down to mid-thigh.
“Bonnie,” Remadia groaned, “if the twins catch sight of you-”
“If they catch sight of me.”
“Take a moment to put the dress on at least somewhat properly, Bonnie. You look like a fool.”
Bonnie gasped in mock horror. “My lady, do you-?” She interrupted herself with another gasp. “Do you presume to lecture me on - dare I say it? - propriety?”
Remadia pursed her lips and made a sound somewhere between a shriek and a strangled roar as Bonnie laughed herself out of the room.
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incrediblefuck · 5 years
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anyone else having a problem where you reblog a post, and then somehow you reblog all of the tags from the person you reblogged it from? like if they wrote something in their tags, it ends up in my tags?
anyway if i reblog something with a lot of tags that don’t sound like something i’d say, it’s probably from the person i reblogged from and you should just ignore it
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skautism · 6 years
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Tiger Lillies and Gold Roses
Pairing(s): York/Hotshot, mentioned Spot/Albert
Warnings: Vomit, flower gore, hanahaki
Word Count: 742
Summary: A small crush turns into a big disaster. Pre-strike.
Author Notes: I’M NOT SORRY EXCEPT I KINDA AM BUT IT HAS A GOOD ENDING DON’T KILL ME also the masterlist just??????? Got deleted by tungle dot hell??????? I’m sorry???????? I’ll make a new one at some point or maybe just not have one idk but hEY I’m posting this with a keep reading cos I’m on dESKTOP
Of all the people to fall for, York did not expect it to be the second-in-command of Brooklyn, Hotshot. It happened slowly, and at first, it felt amazing. It turned bad though. The thing is, York hadn’t ever stopped to think that it could be requited, and the feeling of love slowly turned from a simple crush to pining and near-hopelessness. A scratchy feeling was building in their throat while out selling one day, and they bent over in a coughing fit. A single, golden yellow rose petal. York barely had time to register what just happened, before who else but Hotshot came over.
“You doin’ ok? You’s coughing a lot.” York shoved the petal in their pocket. “Yeah, jus’ a tickle in my throat.” They put up a defensive act. “Ok, tell me if it keeps happening?” “Yeah.” Hotshot walked away, waving. York covered their mouth, coughing again, worse this time. A spill of yellow petals and tiger lilies fell into their hands “Goddammit…” They should tell their twin, right? But Crutchie was in Manhattan, so visiting would mean either skipping on selling, or staying out until dark, and neither idea was very smart. York would visit after selling.
It’s needless to say, that when York said they were going out after selling concerned everyone. It was going to be dark out soon. By the time York had gotten to the Manhattan lodging house to visit Crutchie, the sun was starting to set. Jack answered the door. “Visiting?” he asked, pulling open the door. “Yeah.” “Crutchie’s in the other room” York entered, heading towards where Jack gestured.
“York!” Crutchie got up from the table, Race, and Albert waving hello without looking up. “How’re you doin’?” “Can we talk alone? ‘s really important?” York’s worried, practically scared look concerned Crutchie. “Yeah, you ok?” “I don't think so.” Once the twins were alone, after many protests from Race and Albert, York pulled out the petals. Crutchie panicked. “How long has this been happening? Who is it?” “It just started today. And ‘s Hotshot…” Crutchie took a petal. “Least there’s no blood on ‘em yet.” “Blood?!” York exclaimed. “Yeah. Al got this before he ‘n Spot got together and it was bad. You gotta tell Hotshot.” Panic shot through York. “No way!” Crutchie looked dead serious. “York, you are not going to die because of some flowers. Now go back to Brooklyn before it’s any darker.” The twins hugged.
It had been a week, and York still hadn’t told Hotshot. The coughing was worse, and more and more petals were being stuffed away into the dirt. Hotshot had noticed that York hadn’t stopped coughing, but every time he asked, York, insisted they were fine, it was fine, just a cough. Bad became even worse. It wasn’t rose petals it wasn’t tiger lily petals, it was full, blood-spattered flowers. York wiped their mouth, stuffing the flowers away. Hotshot came over yet again. “York, don’t think I didn’t see the blood. Are you okay? And you can’t say ‘I’m fine’, ‘cause ‘just a cough’ wouldn’t have ya coughing up blood!” York avoided any eye contact. “York…” “What.” Their voice had an edge to it that no one had ever heard come from York. Hotshot stiffened. And walked away, hands stuffed in pockets.”Great, you hurt ‘im,” York mumbled to themself, before doubling over again, hacking. They couldn’t breathe, and their chest hurt. There was blood and flowers spilling onto the ground.
York woke up in the Brooklyn lodge. The sun was setting. They were on a bunk, Hotshot waiting nearby, worried. “Hello?” York’s voice was scratchy. “York! You’s alive!” He rushed over, but York pushed him off. Hotshot insistently wrapped an arm around them anyway. “All those flowers…” “What of them?” York asked, a bit harsher than they wanted it to be. “Who is it?” York didn’t say anything. Hotshot realized. “Is it… Me?” he asked, voice quieter. “Yeah,” York mumbled. “‘S you.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Because I’m not worth it! I’m not… Lovable…” They started coughing again. It seemed slightly better than before, and the petals had decreased. Hotshot rubbed York’s back until they stopped coughing. He pressed a short kiss to York’s forehead. “You’s very lovable.” York noticed their chest had stopped aching, and they could breathe right again. “Better?” “I can… Breathe…” “Good, ‘cause I can’t kiss ya if you’re dead.” York quietly laughed, blushing slightly. “Thanks,” they said, smiling.
Tag List under the cut:
@smoke-the-woke @concretedonutssprinkledwthmold @and-such-language @and-ive-got-a-date @the-woild-is-my-what-now
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grimwatch · 6 years
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I PUT CLOCKWARMER RATHER THAN COCK WARMER DHJD MY MISTAKE
The good news is that no one saw ur mistake because TUMBLR ATE YOUR ASK.
:U (As a heads up tho if it was a request you should hold on to it until we open those back up
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