Seborga propositions Monaco. Monaco agrees on the condition that he beat her in strip poker. Seborga loses but Monaco has sex with him anyway due to a mix of pity and genuine desire.
Partially-clothed Monaco dominating totally naked Seborga. I mostly don't care what all she has on/off but stockings and high heels are a must.
“Yes?” Seborga offered his brightest smile, trying to ignore the fluttering in his stomach. She said yes she said maybe yes!
With a flourish, Monaco produced a pack of cards. “You have to beat me at poker first!”
“Ah…” Miss Monaco was intimidating. How could he have expected anything less, from her? Seborga laughed nervously and surreptitiously wiped his hands on his shirt. “Okay!”
*
There was probably a reason why poker had turned into strip poker, except Seborga couldn’t quite remember what it was. He remembered Miss Monaco saying something about ‘checking out the goods!’, but, uh…possibly if he’d known up front, he would have said no. Or maybe not. It was Miss Monaco. And it had sounded fun.
It just happened to clash with Seborga’s main rule of seduction: Do not spend the whole date staring at your partner’s breasts. Which was, um, quite difficult, even if Miss Monaco was still wearing her shirt.
She was grinning at him across the table again. Seborga blushed and concentrated on his cards.
“Ah…” He put his cards on the table without remembering to call them. Monaco examined them and smiled slowly.
“Well, well,” she said, standing up. Seborga flushed even warmer and tried not to look. That would be … rude, wouldn’t it?
He focused on how cold it was. Not the fingers deftly working their way up her shirt front. He really was pretty cold; even though she’d let him take his shoes off one at a time, he was still down to his underwear, while Miss Monaco was sitting across from him in lacy stockings, high heels, and her shirt.
He didn’t know why she’d lost her skirt before her shirt. Or why she’d taken off her underwear when she still had her shirt on. But it was getting pretty hard to focus on the poker game (not that it had been easy to begin with).
Maybe that was the point. Seborga probably should have thought of that earlier.
The shirt fell open. Seborga swallowed, desperately dragging his eyes away from her breasts, but instead of taking it off, Monaco grinned at him and shrugged her arms out of the sleeves, leaving the shirt draped over her shoulders like a cape. Her hands reached up behind her back, and she shrugged again, and wriggled something down her arms, which made her breasts move under the shadows of her shirt. Don’t look… and she held up her red bra with a grin before putting it neatly on top of her folded jacket, along with her skirt, tie, watch, and underwear.
Seborga tried to remember how to swallow. Miss Monaco sat down and picked up her cards.
*
“Um.” Seborga laid his cards on the table and stared at the polished wood. His flush had crept down from his ears almost to his collarbone. It was really quite sweet, Monaco thought. Much the same way his valiant attempts not to stare had been.
He was a nice boy – maybe not quite her type, but young, and pretty, and eager to please. And a lousy poker player, of course, but compared to her most people were. And he hadn’t tried to argue about the poker game; he’d just let her be in charge.
“I’ll just – thank you for the game, Miss Monaco,” Seborga said in a voice barely above a mumble, reaching for his clothes. His blush brought out the green in his eyes.
“You can stay right there.” Monaco picked her tie up from the table and pulled it tight between her hands.
“But I lost…” Seborga stayed where he was, though, his hands hovering uncertainly just above the table. Obedient. Something very essential purred in the back of Monaco’s mind.
“Did you forget something, Seborga?” Monaco stood up, and watched Seborga swallow. The purr grew louder. “I set the terms.” And he abided by them without hesitation. It really was nice. She leaned on the table and gave him an oddly sweet-sharp smile. “Take them off.”
Seborga slowly stood up. He kept looking at her, but he wasn’t staring at her, he just didn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off her face. He fumbled with taking off his apple-print boxers, and blushed even more when he finally managed to step out of them. Monaco took a slow step towards him, and Seborga stepped back and dropped into the chair again. He stared up at her.
“Stay there.” Monaco took another step, and another, until their knees were brushing. Seborga had to tip his head back to keep looking at her. Monaco eyed the strands of red hair that brushed his tanned skin, and found she quite enjoyed being taller than him. He looked a lot more helpless from this angle.
“Hands by your sides.” Seborga obeyed immediately. Monaco watched his arms tense and relax with the nervous movements of his fingers.
The chair was armless, with a tall, open back made of square wooden columns. Monaco leaned over Seborga, her shirt hanging open, and felt his fast, light breathing on her neck. The angle was difficult. She rested one knee on the edge of the seat. Held up the tie in front of Seborga’s eyes and watched them widen. She leaned down, and his breath ruffled her hair while she wrapped one end of her tie around his wrist and the column of the chair, tying his hand in place.
Seborga’s breath hitched, and Monaco leaned back a little to look at him. Seborga’s eyes were wide and a little nervous, but he didn’t look scared, and his left arm stayed where it was. Good.
She drew the other end of her tie around the back of the chair and had that hand secured before he could change his mind. Then she took another moment to look at him – bound to the chair, a helpless blush colouring his cheeks and his eyes wide.
The angle was still a little awkward for what she wanted to do, and Monaco’s chair were as sturdy as they were elegant. She climbed onto the chair, kneeling with her legs on either side of his. It left not much space between their bodies, but Monaco didn’t mind. She could feel how interested he was, and tilted her hips back with a smile to deny him contact.
“Miss Monaco –” Seborga gasped. She grabbed a handful of his hair and he cut himself off, the cords in his neck briefly going tight.
“Did I say you could speak?” Monaco demanded. Well, that might be a bit much. He did have a nice voice, but she was in charge. Seborga shook his head minutely against her hand. His eyes were squeezed shut, but she could see a glint of green below the lashes; he was still watching her. She relaxed her grip and stroked over the sore spot to reward him.
“You can redeem yourself,” she murmured, leaning in so that her breath brushed his ear. “Do you know how to use that mouth properly?”
His nod was a tiny, hesitant thing, and Monaco smiled as she pushed herself up.
Miss Monaco’s shirt hung open as she pushed herself up with her hands on his shoulders. She was slight, but her weight on her shoulders was solid, pushing him down into the chair. It almost distracted Seborga from the way her shirt hung around her chest, or the way her breasts moved under it.
“Show me, then,” she commanded.
Oh.
Seborga leaned in hesitantly, waiting for another tug on his hair. It didn’t come, so that was all right. He took a deep breath, and the smell of her warm skin and the perfume she was wearing almost made him dizzy.
Redeem yourself, Miss Monaco had said. Seborga nosed against the soft side of her breast, and then carefully, tentatively flicked his tongue over her nipple. That didn’t get any response, so he tried again, licking slightly more firmly before craning his neck to take it into his mouth. He sucked lightly, keeping his teeth well away from her skin, using his tongue and lips.
Miss Monaco didn’t make a sound. She was too collected for that, but it did make it hard to tell if she was enjoying it. The only clue Seborga had was the slight speeding-up of her breathing.
*
Monaco held herself rock-steady. It wasn’t too hard.
Seborga clearly knew what he was doing. Just as clearly, he’d had not much practice. His lips on her skin were warm and pleasant, but without the skill of more experienced nations. Inexperienced, but earnest, and the sensation was enjoyable.
“Enough,” she said after a few minutes, before the tingles could build enough to make her voice shake. She started to lift her hand from his shoulder, to reinforce the order with a tug on his hair, but before it could get that far Seborga let her breast drop from his mouth and tilted his head back against the back of the chair, looking up at her. That made her skin tingle, his unhesitant response to her voice alone, without any pain to prompt him.
“Good,” she murmured, and stroked through his hair again, her fingers snagging briefly on that flyaway curl. Seborga’s eyes fluttered halfway shut and blinked open again.
Monaco climbed off the chair and stood up, and noted the way Seborga swallowed. He really was pretty, tied to that chair the way he was. It was a pity that chairs weren’t really designed for what she had in mind.
Seborga’s cheeks darkened, and he ducked his head a little. Monaco realised she’d been staring, and felt her lips curve in a smile.
“I’m going to take you upstairs,” she said, stepping forwards lightly and crouching down to undo the knot around his wrist. Seborga’s fingers tightened on the wood at her words, and she heard his muffled gasp. Silk whispered through her fingers as the tie came loose, and Monaco stepped around the back of the chair to work on the other knot. Seborga’s free arm started to lift, and then fell back down, as if he realised that she wanted him to be still.
The knot came loose. Monaco caught Seborga’s wrist and the end of the tie in the same hand, and stepped around in front of him. Seborga looked up at her in confusion, and Monaco waggled the tie. Seborga blinked, and then raised his other hand, crossing his arms at the wrist. Monaco looped the tie around them, binding his tanned hands together with dark blue silk.
“You’re going to do what I say.” Seborga nodded silently. It was getting a little eerie; he usually chattered a mile a minute. “You can speak.”
“Yes, Miss Monaco.” Seborga’s voice was quiet, but it held no reluctance at all.
Oh, man, I missed the first post of this fill but I'll definitely be paying attention for the rest. Loving the set-up here so far, and am looking forward to see what else Monaco has in mind!
She led him upstairs with her tie binding his hands like a leash. He took the steps carefully, swaying a little without his hands to balance him. He had to look down to find the steps, but he couldn’t resist glancing up a few times at the tall line of her back, the assurance with which she carried herself. Even half-naked, with the hem of her open shirt brushing the top of her thighs, Miss Monaco moved like a queen.
“In here,” Monaco said, pushing open a door and tugging lightly on the tie. Seborga swallowed and followed her through.
Monaco’s bedroom was bright after the darkness of the stairs. The afternoon sun poured in through large windows, gleaming off the varnish on the floorboards. There were paintings on the walls, vague swirls of bright colour that suggested images without actually depicting anything, and patterned rugs on the floor by the bed and in front of the window. The furniture was like everything else in Monaco’s house – sturdy and elegant. The bedframe was elaborately curved wrought iron, and the tall posts at each corner were topped by metal swept and twisted so that it looked like the flame of a torch.
“Come on, then!” Miss Monaco tugged him towards the bed, a little bounce appearing in her steps despite her high heels, and Seborga almost stumbled before he matched her pace. She sat down on the edge of the bed and gave him a smile that somehow blended excitement with regal approval, and Seborga’s heart thudded in his chest.
He wanted…he didn’t know exactly what he wanted, beyond that he wanted whatever she wanted. And he couldn’t tell exactly what she wanted, beyond that she wanted him to obey her, so Seborga bowed his head a little, enough to show respect while allowing his eyes to catch her face, to watch for her desires.
Miss Monaco’s back straightened. The hand that held the end of the tie still binding his wrists flicked minutely, and Seborga felt the corresponding twitch in the knot beneath his palms.
“Kneel,” she said, and oh.
Seborga knelt. It wasn’t graceful, without his hands, but Miss Monaco’s smile turned approving and Seborga couldn’t look away from it, from her pleasure in his submission. The blue silk of her tie hung between them, wrapped loosely around her clever fingers, and if Seborga flexed his wrists a little he could feel it start to dig in. Maybe it wasn’t something he’d ever expected to like so much, to kneel with his hands bound in another’s service, but – how could he not want to obey her?
The thick pile of the rug was soft and a little prickly under his bare shins, but Seborga barely noticed. He kept his wrists up in front of him, not pulling on the tie, and dipped his head low.
He couldn’t see her face, but he could see her leg – the pale lace twining over pale skin, the arch of her foot and the line of her calf above the red leather of her shoe – and he could see the way her knees shifted just slightly apart. He felt the tie twitch again as she moved her hand.
“Kiss my feet,” she said. Her voice was calm, and Seborga couldn’t tell if there was a little excitement under it or not.
He bowed his head lower and pressed his lips to the toe of her right shoe. It smelled of dust and polish, and the red leather was smooth and still a little warm from the sun. He parted his lips, let his breath brush across her foot the way he wanted it to brush across her skin. Raised his head just a fraction, enough to shift his weight sideways, and kissed her left foot. His tongue wanted to flick out, to taste the leather. Seborga kept it in.
He stayed there, bowed over her foot, waiting for the sound of her voice. He heard Miss Monaco sigh, and then the shoe beneath his lips slid forward, the toe nudging under his chin and tipping his head back, and Seborga felt a thousand tiny shivers go through him.
Seborga had looked nice tied to the chair. He looked even better on his knees.
On his knees and eager. She could see the colour in his skin, and the light in his eyes.
“Good boy,” she murmured. She’d have stroked his hair again, but he was too close to the floor for her to reach. She tugged lightly on the tie. “Come here.”
He straightened up, and Monaco watched the little ripple of muscle across his back as he pulled his body up. She parted her knees, and Seborga shuffled in between them with only a little twitch of the tie. She did let her left hand rest on his hair this time, rubbing the soft strands between thumb and forefinger, and Seborga’s eyelids fluttered under the contact.
He was still smiling – a small, wondering curve of his mouth.
He was still watching her as though his world contained nothing else.
She could almost have wondered at how warm it made her feel.
“Do you know what to do?” she inquired, cupping her left hand over the back of his head.
“Yes, Miss Monaco,” Seborga whispered, and Monaco smiled, and pulled him to her.
He kissed the inside of her thigh above the stockings – once on the left, once on the right – brief butterfly kisses, his lips brushing lightly and almost reverently over her skin with little puffs of breath, before he opened his mouth.
She felt his tongue lave against her, and mmm, that was nice. Monaco allowed her head to fall back for just a moment, and took a deep breath, and then she pulled herself together once again. She wasn’t about to lose control.
The sun was warm on her shoulders and back, and Seborga’s mouth was warm on her flesh, and Monaco’s body was warming all through. She eyed the slope of his back and his neck, the strong curve of his shoulders, while her hand toyed idly in his hair. Seborga trembled, and his tongue did something very pleasant indeed, something that sent a little bolt through her. Monaco’s breath hitched, and after a moment Seborga did it again.
He was better at this than she’d expected. More firm, steady pressure than fancy tricks, but he caught on fast to what she liked, and he was so eager to please that it made everything even better.
It was very pleasant, actually. She was getting close. Maybe she shouldn’t –
But then, she was the one who decided that, wasn’t she? And if she wanted to pull Seborga’s mouth a little closer, then she could do that, and he would let her and enjoy it –
Monaco tightened her fingers in Seborga’s hair, throwing her head back as the wave crested and broke inside her.
Nnf, this just keeps getting better. I love how into it Seborga is, that slow warm slide into wanting only to give pleasure, and Monaco is being very good to him. Eagerly awaiting more!
“Put your hands against the headboard,” Miss Monaco instructed.
Seborga obeyed without thinking, lifting his hands above and behind him until he found the twisted metal bars that made up the head of the bed. Then he crossed his hands behind one of those bars, with the insides of his wrists touching the metal. It seemed like the kind of thing she’d like. Judging from Miss Monaco’s brief approving smile, where she knelt above him with her tie in her hands, he got it right. Seborga smiled helplessly, feeling warmth blossom in his chest. She liked it.
“Stay still,” she murmured, and bent over him. Her shirt hung open, and the end of her braid hung over her shoulder, a few inches above his lips. He would have liked to kiss it – would have liked to lift himself up, to kiss her collarbone and her exposed breasts – but her word held him more securely than the tie she looped around his wrists. He was hers, and he held himself still for her as he felt cool silk brush across his skin and then tighten below his hands, and watched the deft, measured movements of her fingers as she drew the knot tight.
Miss Monaco didn’t let go right away. She traced her thumb over the knot, then down, over his wrist-bone, where the tie had rubbed the skin sensitive. Seborga shivered. Miss Monaco’s face was intent, but her grey-blue eyes flicked down to his face, and her lips quirked slightly.
And then she sat back on her heels, her shirt falling back down around her ribs, taking her warmth and the scent of her hair with her. Seborga ducked his chin to keep his eyes on her, ignoring the way it made the pillow sink and slide up behind his head. Miss Monaco was everything, and the regal way she brought her shoulders back and lifted her chin even more so.
She looked away from his face, studying his body with a calm, almost dispassionate expression. Her hand followed her gaze, skimming lightly down his chest and over his stomach, skirting his hips to prod lightly at his thighs. Seborga bit his lip, his body wanting at the same time to both arch up into her touch and sink away from her gaze. He didn’t want to disappoint her, not for anything, but she was so beautiful, so strong. Her fingertips traced down to his knees and came back up, over his hipbones – he managed not to arch up into her touch, but it was so hard – and slowed. Her left hand touched his stomach again, light as a feather but immoveable, and Seborga distantly realised he was holding his breath.
Her cool fingers closed around his cock, and Seborga let out a deep, shuddering sigh. Somehow he managed not to move – well, not much, only a tiny twitch up before he caught himself, but he’d been aching for her since she tied him to the chair and after so long her touch went through him like a crossbow bolt. Miss Monaco looked up at him with a wicked smile and a gleam in her eyes, and Seborga could almost have come then and there.
“This,” she said, tapping lightly with her thumb – Seborga struggled not to squirm – “belongs to me.”
Yes. The word came leaping up his throat and Seborga caught it in the back of his mouth, keeping his silence for her. His head dipped in a little nod that was all he could manage. Yes, yes, all of him belonged to her, he was hers.
“Good,” Miss Monaco said, and let go.
She knelt over him, straddling him with her knees on either side of his hips, keeping her body up and away from his. The mesh of her stockings pressed against his hipbones, and in the tiny places where her skin met his through the lace, warmth seeped into him like fine wine. The sun lit her hair with a golden gleam and laid subtle colours over her skin. Her back was straight and her shirt hung open only enough to be tantalising, her eyes were intent and this was what ancient goddesses looked like, surely.
Seborga was barely breathing again, his lungs only taking in little flutters of air.
Miss Monaco bent over him, pressing her hands down on his collarbones and pushing him into the mattress.
“You don’t come until I tell you,” she said, her breath brushing over his face and carrying the words into his skin, into his blood.
“Yes,” Seborga breathed. He couldn’t say it any louder – shouting it wouldn’t have been enough to show how much he agreed.
Miss Monaco smiled again, and pushed herself back up, and guided him into her as she sank slowly down.
*
Seborga’s eyes widened when Monaco took him into her, and she was sure it wasn’t just the sunlight making them shine that way. His lips parted on a soft little ”oh,”, and she slowed down – not much, just a fraction, but enough to tease him.
His cock was in proportion to the rest of him – not too big, but comfortable, and the stretch didn’t come close to pain. It had been a while; Monaco had no shortage of suitors, but neither did she have a shortage of standards. Long enough that she welcomed the sensation again. It felt pleasant, in a similar vein as the way everything Seborga had said and done had been pleasant: Not sophisticated or sensual, but simple, and straightforward, and very enjoyable.
Her hips met his, and she sat still for a moment. Seborga lay tense and trembling under her. His fingers were clutching at the wrought-iron post she’d tied him to.
And he hadn’t moved. Even though she could tell from the tremors in his thighs that he wanted to.
Well.
She rocked against him, testing the angle, and then lifted herself up and slipped back down. Mmmm, yes, that was nice. Again, moving languidly – there was no rush, they had the whole afternoon, she could take her time and savour it if she wanted to – and she did.
She rode him easily, lazily. She could tell that Seborga was fighting to hold himself still for her, especially when his control broke and he moved up against her, unexpectedly firmly, before he realised and pulled himself back down – but that was all right, Monaco decided, she didn’t mind him moving a little bit; it felt good, and besides, it was nice not to have a completely inanimate partner. Even if she could see that said partner was only so still out of devotion.
She rocked down again, meeting another slight thrust, and gasped – he fit inside her so sweetly, but it wasn’t quite enough. She let her fingers dance down her stomach, down close to where their bodies met. Seborga’s wide green eyes followed her fingers, and Monaco smiled at him. Hmm…maybe not yet, she was enjoying this.
And it built up inside her, slowly, until her breath hitched and she was so close, and even though her thighs were starting to feel the strain, Monaco kept moving, slipping her fingers down to rub over slick flesh –
This time it was deeper, fiercer; she’d had longer to build, and when it came she groaned aloud with it, letting it shake through her body. She sat down hard, rocking against Seborga’s hips as the last of it shuddered through her, and slumped, breathing heavily.
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Monaco/Seborga; strip poker, femdom
(Anonymous) 2013-02-09 07:24 am (UTC)(link)Partially-clothed Monaco dominating totally naked Seborga. I mostly don't care what all she has on/off but stockings and high heels are a must.
Re: Monaco/Seborga; strip poker, femdom
(Anonymous) 2013-02-09 07:30 am (UTC)(link)Re: Monaco/Seborga; strip poker, femdom
(Anonymous) 2013-02-09 06:19 pm (UTC)(link)Check Your Terms (1/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-02-21 01:50 pm (UTC)(link)“Yes?” Seborga offered his brightest smile, trying to ignore the fluttering in his stomach. She said yes she said maybe yes!
With a flourish, Monaco produced a pack of cards. “You have to beat me at poker first!”
“Ah…” Miss Monaco was intimidating. How could he have expected anything less, from her? Seborga laughed nervously and surreptitiously wiped his hands on his shirt. “Okay!”
*
There was probably a reason why poker had turned into strip poker, except Seborga couldn’t quite remember what it was. He remembered Miss Monaco saying something about ‘checking out the goods!’, but, uh…possibly if he’d known up front, he would have said no. Or maybe not. It was Miss Monaco. And it had sounded fun.
It just happened to clash with Seborga’s main rule of seduction: Do not spend the whole date staring at your partner’s breasts. Which was, um, quite difficult, even if Miss Monaco was still wearing her shirt.
She was grinning at him across the table again. Seborga blushed and concentrated on his cards.
“Ah…” He put his cards on the table without remembering to call them. Monaco examined them and smiled slowly.
“Well, well,” she said, standing up. Seborga flushed even warmer and tried not to look. That would be … rude, wouldn’t it?
He focused on how cold it was. Not the fingers deftly working their way up her shirt front. He really was pretty cold; even though she’d let him take his shoes off one at a time, he was still down to his underwear, while Miss Monaco was sitting across from him in lacy stockings, high heels, and her shirt.
He didn’t know why she’d lost her skirt before her shirt. Or why she’d taken off her underwear when she still had her shirt on. But it was getting pretty hard to focus on the poker game (not that it had been easy to begin with).
Maybe that was the point. Seborga probably should have thought of that earlier.
The shirt fell open. Seborga swallowed, desperately dragging his eyes away from her breasts, but instead of taking it off, Monaco grinned at him and shrugged her arms out of the sleeves, leaving the shirt draped over her shoulders like a cape. Her hands reached up behind her back, and she shrugged again, and wriggled something down her arms, which made her breasts move under the shadows of her shirt. Don’t look… and she held up her red bra with a grin before putting it neatly on top of her folded jacket, along with her skirt, tie, watch, and underwear.
Seborga tried to remember how to swallow. Miss Monaco sat down and picked up her cards.
*
“Um.” Seborga laid his cards on the table and stared at the polished wood. His flush had crept down from his ears almost to his collarbone. It was really quite sweet, Monaco thought. Much the same way his valiant attempts not to stare had been.
He was a nice boy – maybe not quite her type, but young, and pretty, and eager to please. And a lousy poker player, of course, but compared to her most people were. And he hadn’t tried to argue about the poker game; he’d just let her be in charge.
“I’ll just – thank you for the game, Miss Monaco,” Seborga said in a voice barely above a mumble, reaching for his clothes. His blush brought out the green in his eyes.
And she thought, Why not have a little fun?
Check Your Terms (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-02-21 01:51 pm (UTC)(link)“But I lost…” Seborga stayed where he was, though, his hands hovering uncertainly just above the table. Obedient. Something very essential purred in the back of Monaco’s mind.
“Did you forget something, Seborga?” Monaco stood up, and watched Seborga swallow. The purr grew louder. “I set the terms.” And he abided by them without hesitation. It really was nice. She leaned on the table and gave him an oddly sweet-sharp smile. “Take them off.”
Seborga slowly stood up. He kept looking at her, but he wasn’t staring at her, he just didn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off her face. He fumbled with taking off his apple-print boxers, and blushed even more when he finally managed to step out of them. Monaco took a slow step towards him, and Seborga stepped back and dropped into the chair again. He stared up at her.
“Stay there.” Monaco took another step, and another, until their knees were brushing. Seborga had to tip his head back to keep looking at her. Monaco eyed the strands of red hair that brushed his tanned skin, and found she quite enjoyed being taller than him. He looked a lot more helpless from this angle.
“Hands by your sides.” Seborga obeyed immediately. Monaco watched his arms tense and relax with the nervous movements of his fingers.
The chair was armless, with a tall, open back made of square wooden columns. Monaco leaned over Seborga, her shirt hanging open, and felt his fast, light breathing on her neck. The angle was difficult. She rested one knee on the edge of the seat. Held up the tie in front of Seborga’s eyes and watched them widen. She leaned down, and his breath ruffled her hair while she wrapped one end of her tie around his wrist and the column of the chair, tying his hand in place.
Seborga’s breath hitched, and Monaco leaned back a little to look at him. Seborga’s eyes were wide and a little nervous, but he didn’t look scared, and his left arm stayed where it was. Good.
She drew the other end of her tie around the back of the chair and had that hand secured before he could change his mind. Then she took another moment to look at him – bound to the chair, a helpless blush colouring his cheeks and his eyes wide.
The angle was still a little awkward for what she wanted to do, and Monaco’s chair were as sturdy as they were elegant. She climbed onto the chair, kneeling with her legs on either side of his. It left not much space between their bodies, but Monaco didn’t mind. She could feel how interested he was, and tilted her hips back with a smile to deny him contact.
“Miss Monaco –” Seborga gasped. She grabbed a handful of his hair and he cut himself off, the cords in his neck briefly going tight.
“Did I say you could speak?” Monaco demanded. Well, that might be a bit much. He did have a nice voice, but she was in charge. Seborga shook his head minutely against her hand. His eyes were squeezed shut, but she could see a glint of green below the lashes; he was still watching her. She relaxed her grip and stroked over the sore spot to reward him.
“You can redeem yourself,” she murmured, leaning in so that her breath brushed his ear. “Do you know how to use that mouth properly?”
His nod was a tiny, hesitant thing, and Monaco smiled as she pushed herself up.
“Show me, then.”
OP
(Anonymous) 2013-02-21 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)This is fantastic so far, anon!
Check Your Terms (3/5?)
(Anonymous) 2013-03-09 04:13 pm (UTC)(link)“Show me, then,” she commanded.
Oh.
Seborga leaned in hesitantly, waiting for another tug on his hair. It didn’t come, so that was all right. He took a deep breath, and the smell of her warm skin and the perfume she was wearing almost made him dizzy.
Redeem yourself, Miss Monaco had said. Seborga nosed against the soft side of her breast, and then carefully, tentatively flicked his tongue over her nipple. That didn’t get any response, so he tried again, licking slightly more firmly before craning his neck to take it into his mouth. He sucked lightly, keeping his teeth well away from her skin, using his tongue and lips.
Miss Monaco didn’t make a sound. She was too collected for that, but it did make it hard to tell if she was enjoying it. The only clue Seborga had was the slight speeding-up of her breathing.
*
Monaco held herself rock-steady. It wasn’t too hard.
Seborga clearly knew what he was doing. Just as clearly, he’d had not much practice. His lips on her skin were warm and pleasant, but without the skill of more experienced nations. Inexperienced, but earnest, and the sensation was enjoyable.
“Enough,” she said after a few minutes, before the tingles could build enough to make her voice shake. She started to lift her hand from his shoulder, to reinforce the order with a tug on his hair, but before it could get that far Seborga let her breast drop from his mouth and tilted his head back against the back of the chair, looking up at her. That made her skin tingle, his unhesitant response to her voice alone, without any pain to prompt him.
“Good,” she murmured, and stroked through his hair again, her fingers snagging briefly on that flyaway curl. Seborga’s eyes fluttered halfway shut and blinked open again.
Monaco climbed off the chair and stood up, and noted the way Seborga swallowed. He really was pretty, tied to that chair the way he was. It was a pity that chairs weren’t really designed for what she had in mind.
Seborga’s cheeks darkened, and he ducked his head a little. Monaco realised she’d been staring, and felt her lips curve in a smile.
“I’m going to take you upstairs,” she said, stepping forwards lightly and crouching down to undo the knot around his wrist. Seborga’s fingers tightened on the wood at her words, and she heard his muffled gasp. Silk whispered through her fingers as the tie came loose, and Monaco stepped around the back of the chair to work on the other knot. Seborga’s free arm started to lift, and then fell back down, as if he realised that she wanted him to be still.
The knot came loose. Monaco caught Seborga’s wrist and the end of the tie in the same hand, and stepped around in front of him. Seborga looked up at her in confusion, and Monaco waggled the tie. Seborga blinked, and then raised his other hand, crossing his arms at the wrist. Monaco looped the tie around them, binding his tanned hands together with dark blue silk.
“You’re going to do what I say.” Seborga nodded silently. It was getting a little eerie; he usually chattered a mile a minute. “You can speak.”
“Yes, Miss Monaco.” Seborga’s voice was quiet, but it held no reluctance at all.
OP
(Anonymous) 2013-03-09 04:50 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Check Your Terms (3/5?)
(Anonymous) 2013-03-09 05:43 pm (UTC)(link)Check Your Terms (4/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-05-08 10:53 am (UTC)(link)“In here,” Monaco said, pushing open a door and tugging lightly on the tie. Seborga swallowed and followed her through.
Monaco’s bedroom was bright after the darkness of the stairs. The afternoon sun poured in through large windows, gleaming off the varnish on the floorboards. There were paintings on the walls, vague swirls of bright colour that suggested images without actually depicting anything, and patterned rugs on the floor by the bed and in front of the window. The furniture was like everything else in Monaco’s house – sturdy and elegant. The bedframe was elaborately curved wrought iron, and the tall posts at each corner were topped by metal swept and twisted so that it looked like the flame of a torch.
“Come on, then!” Miss Monaco tugged him towards the bed, a little bounce appearing in her steps despite her high heels, and Seborga almost stumbled before he matched her pace. She sat down on the edge of the bed and gave him a smile that somehow blended excitement with regal approval, and Seborga’s heart thudded in his chest.
He wanted…he didn’t know exactly what he wanted, beyond that he wanted whatever she wanted. And he couldn’t tell exactly what she wanted, beyond that she wanted him to obey her, so Seborga bowed his head a little, enough to show respect while allowing his eyes to catch her face, to watch for her desires.
Miss Monaco’s back straightened. The hand that held the end of the tie still binding his wrists flicked minutely, and Seborga felt the corresponding twitch in the knot beneath his palms.
“Kneel,” she said, and oh.
Seborga knelt. It wasn’t graceful, without his hands, but Miss Monaco’s smile turned approving and Seborga couldn’t look away from it, from her pleasure in his submission. The blue silk of her tie hung between them, wrapped loosely around her clever fingers, and if Seborga flexed his wrists a little he could feel it start to dig in. Maybe it wasn’t something he’d ever expected to like so much, to kneel with his hands bound in another’s service, but – how could he not want to obey her?
The thick pile of the rug was soft and a little prickly under his bare shins, but Seborga barely noticed. He kept his wrists up in front of him, not pulling on the tie, and dipped his head low.
He couldn’t see her face, but he could see her leg – the pale lace twining over pale skin, the arch of her foot and the line of her calf above the red leather of her shoe – and he could see the way her knees shifted just slightly apart. He felt the tie twitch again as she moved her hand.
“Kiss my feet,” she said. Her voice was calm, and Seborga couldn’t tell if there was a little excitement under it or not.
He bowed his head lower and pressed his lips to the toe of her right shoe. It smelled of dust and polish, and the red leather was smooth and still a little warm from the sun. He parted his lips, let his breath brush across her foot the way he wanted it to brush across her skin. Raised his head just a fraction, enough to shift his weight sideways, and kissed her left foot. His tongue wanted to flick out, to taste the leather. Seborga kept it in.
He stayed there, bowed over her foot, waiting for the sound of her voice. He heard Miss Monaco sigh, and then the shoe beneath his lips slid forward, the toe nudging under his chin and tipping his head back, and Seborga felt a thousand tiny shivers go through him.
Check Your Terms (5/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-05-08 10:55 am (UTC)(link)On his knees and eager. She could see the colour in his skin, and the light in his eyes.
“Good boy,” she murmured. She’d have stroked his hair again, but he was too close to the floor for her to reach. She tugged lightly on the tie. “Come here.”
He straightened up, and Monaco watched the little ripple of muscle across his back as he pulled his body up. She parted her knees, and Seborga shuffled in between them with only a little twitch of the tie. She did let her left hand rest on his hair this time, rubbing the soft strands between thumb and forefinger, and Seborga’s eyelids fluttered under the contact.
He was still smiling – a small, wondering curve of his mouth.
He was still watching her as though his world contained nothing else.
She could almost have wondered at how warm it made her feel.
“Do you know what to do?” she inquired, cupping her left hand over the back of his head.
“Yes, Miss Monaco,” Seborga whispered, and Monaco smiled, and pulled him to her.
He kissed the inside of her thigh above the stockings – once on the left, once on the right – brief butterfly kisses, his lips brushing lightly and almost reverently over her skin with little puffs of breath, before he opened his mouth.
She felt his tongue lave against her, and mmm, that was nice. Monaco allowed her head to fall back for just a moment, and took a deep breath, and then she pulled herself together once again. She wasn’t about to lose control.
The sun was warm on her shoulders and back, and Seborga’s mouth was warm on her flesh, and Monaco’s body was warming all through. She eyed the slope of his back and his neck, the strong curve of his shoulders, while her hand toyed idly in his hair. Seborga trembled, and his tongue did something very pleasant indeed, something that sent a little bolt through her. Monaco’s breath hitched, and after a moment Seborga did it again.
He was better at this than she’d expected. More firm, steady pressure than fancy tricks, but he caught on fast to what she liked, and he was so eager to please that it made everything even better.
It was very pleasant, actually. She was getting close. Maybe she shouldn’t –
But then, she was the one who decided that, wasn’t she? And if she wanted to pull Seborga’s mouth a little closer, then she could do that, and he would let her and enjoy it –
Monaco tightened her fingers in Seborga’s hair, throwing her head back as the wave crested and broke inside her.
Re: Check Your Terms (5/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-05-11 04:34 pm (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2013-05-11 05:14 pm (UTC)(link)This continues to be amazing, author-anon! I can hardly wait for more!
Check Your Terms (6/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-06-08 06:15 pm (UTC)(link)Seborga obeyed without thinking, lifting his hands above and behind him until he found the twisted metal bars that made up the head of the bed. Then he crossed his hands behind one of those bars, with the insides of his wrists touching the metal. It seemed like the kind of thing she’d like. Judging from Miss Monaco’s brief approving smile, where she knelt above him with her tie in her hands, he got it right. Seborga smiled helplessly, feeling warmth blossom in his chest. She liked it.
“Stay still,” she murmured, and bent over him. Her shirt hung open, and the end of her braid hung over her shoulder, a few inches above his lips. He would have liked to kiss it – would have liked to lift himself up, to kiss her collarbone and her exposed breasts – but her word held him more securely than the tie she looped around his wrists. He was hers, and he held himself still for her as he felt cool silk brush across his skin and then tighten below his hands, and watched the deft, measured movements of her fingers as she drew the knot tight.
Miss Monaco didn’t let go right away. She traced her thumb over the knot, then down, over his wrist-bone, where the tie had rubbed the skin sensitive. Seborga shivered. Miss Monaco’s face was intent, but her grey-blue eyes flicked down to his face, and her lips quirked slightly.
And then she sat back on her heels, her shirt falling back down around her ribs, taking her warmth and the scent of her hair with her. Seborga ducked his chin to keep his eyes on her, ignoring the way it made the pillow sink and slide up behind his head. Miss Monaco was everything, and the regal way she brought her shoulders back and lifted her chin even more so.
She looked away from his face, studying his body with a calm, almost dispassionate expression. Her hand followed her gaze, skimming lightly down his chest and over his stomach, skirting his hips to prod lightly at his thighs. Seborga bit his lip, his body wanting at the same time to both arch up into her touch and sink away from her gaze. He didn’t want to disappoint her, not for anything, but she was so beautiful, so strong. Her fingertips traced down to his knees and came back up, over his hipbones – he managed not to arch up into her touch, but it was so hard – and slowed. Her left hand touched his stomach again, light as a feather but immoveable, and Seborga distantly realised he was holding his breath.
Her cool fingers closed around his cock, and Seborga let out a deep, shuddering sigh. Somehow he managed not to move – well, not much, only a tiny twitch up before he caught himself, but he’d been aching for her since she tied him to the chair and after so long her touch went through him like a crossbow bolt. Miss Monaco looked up at him with a wicked smile and a gleam in her eyes, and Seborga could almost have come then and there.
“This,” she said, tapping lightly with her thumb – Seborga struggled not to squirm – “belongs to me.”
Yes. The word came leaping up his throat and Seborga caught it in the back of his mouth, keeping his silence for her. His head dipped in a little nod that was all he could manage. Yes, yes, all of him belonged to her, he was hers.
“Good,” Miss Monaco said, and let go.
She knelt over him, straddling him with her knees on either side of his hips, keeping her body up and away from his. The mesh of her stockings pressed against his hipbones, and in the tiny places where her skin met his through the lace, warmth seeped into him like fine wine. The sun lit her hair with a golden gleam and laid subtle colours over her skin. Her back was straight and her shirt hung open only enough to be tantalising, her eyes were intent and this was what ancient goddesses looked like, surely.
Seborga was barely breathing again, his lungs only taking in little flutters of air.
Miss Monaco bent over him, pressing her hands down on his collarbones and pushing him into the mattress.
Check Your Terms (7/?)
(Anonymous) 2013-06-08 06:16 pm (UTC)(link)“Yes,” Seborga breathed. He couldn’t say it any louder – shouting it wouldn’t have been enough to show how much he agreed.
Miss Monaco smiled again, and pushed herself back up, and guided him into her as she sank slowly down.
*
Seborga’s eyes widened when Monaco took him into her, and she was sure it wasn’t just the sunlight making them shine that way. His lips parted on a soft little ”oh,”, and she slowed down – not much, just a fraction, but enough to tease him.
His cock was in proportion to the rest of him – not too big, but comfortable, and the stretch didn’t come close to pain. It had been a while; Monaco had no shortage of suitors, but neither did she have a shortage of standards. Long enough that she welcomed the sensation again. It felt pleasant, in a similar vein as the way everything Seborga had said and done had been pleasant: Not sophisticated or sensual, but simple, and straightforward, and very enjoyable.
Her hips met his, and she sat still for a moment. Seborga lay tense and trembling under her. His fingers were clutching at the wrought-iron post she’d tied him to.
And he hadn’t moved. Even though she could tell from the tremors in his thighs that he wanted to.
Well.
She rocked against him, testing the angle, and then lifted herself up and slipped back down. Mmmm, yes, that was nice. Again, moving languidly – there was no rush, they had the whole afternoon, she could take her time and savour it if she wanted to – and she did.
She rode him easily, lazily. She could tell that Seborga was fighting to hold himself still for her, especially when his control broke and he moved up against her, unexpectedly firmly, before he realised and pulled himself back down – but that was all right, Monaco decided, she didn’t mind him moving a little bit; it felt good, and besides, it was nice not to have a completely inanimate partner. Even if she could see that said partner was only so still out of devotion.
She rocked down again, meeting another slight thrust, and gasped – he fit inside her so sweetly, but it wasn’t quite enough. She let her fingers dance down her stomach, down close to where their bodies met. Seborga’s wide green eyes followed her fingers, and Monaco smiled at him. Hmm…maybe not yet, she was enjoying this.
And it built up inside her, slowly, until her breath hitched and she was so close, and even though her thighs were starting to feel the strain, Monaco kept moving, slipping her fingers down to rub over slick flesh –
This time it was deeper, fiercer; she’d had longer to build, and when it came she groaned aloud with it, letting it shake through her body. She sat down hard, rocking against Seborga’s hips as the last of it shuddered through her, and slumped, breathing heavily.
LATE OP IS INCREDIBLY LATE
(Anonymous) 2013-06-20 04:03 am (UTC)(link)