The Sequel: Part V
Title: 'The Sequel'
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairings: Bree Van deKamp, Tom and Lynette Scavo
Chapter: Part V
Rating: N17/N18/R/X-Rated!!
Author's Note: From a technical point, there are some pretty great writing in this chapter. Not to pat my own back or anything. :P
Lynette wore the smug smile of victory as her eyes washed over the captured form of Bree. The darkened circle of cement surrounding the tethered redhead looked like the beginning of some satanic ritual. To anyone leaning down to look into Lynette Scavo’s basement windows, it could have appeared to be just that; but to Bree Van deKamp, it was her emotional release personified in liquid form, having metaphorically dripped from her to stain the ground.
Looking out one of those dusty, half-windows to the grass outside, Lynette could tell by the shadows thrown on her lawn that it was far passed midnight. It was now officially Saturday, the second day out of three. She moved her gaze back to Bree and noted the exhaustion in her lover’s face; not only physically tired she was emotionally drained. Bree had nothing left, she’d used every last reserve she had and now was a tiptoe away from hypothermia.
Frowning, the fully clothed blonde studied the husband-and-wife rope work. Bree’s hands had grown cold from a combination of icy water and lack of blood flow; her body sagged forward against her bonds - there was no way Lynette was going to be able to release her without help. Unless….
Untying the shivering creature’s legs, Lynette gingerly manipulated the frozen limbs until Bree was sitting ‘side saddle’ on the wooden horse. Then, using a ladder, she unknotted the rope from the rafters, holding the end taut and keeping Bree held up as she climbed back down. Standing in front of Bree, she now slowly let out the slack and watched as Bree fell forward inch by inch, into her arms.
Bending slightly under the weight of the smaller woman, Lynette sat down on an old trunk and placed Bree in her lap; the redhead fell limply against her and laid still. Worried, Lynette grabbed a nearby bed sheet from the laundry hamper and began to viciously rub the life back into Bree’s motionless torso.
With a whimpered moan, Bree’s lashes fluttered and she shivered violently. “Come on pet, come back to me.” Lynette murmured tenderly against Bree’s cold cheek as she brushed softly at the frigid water droplets clinging to her skin.
Bree’s teeth were chattering so hard she opted for burying her head into the crook of Lynette’s neck over talking. Being held tightly in the bed sheet and Lynette’s arms, Bree slowly began to feel the tips of her fingers and toes again. Shivering, she pressed a soft kiss to Lynette’s neck. It made Lynette smile.
“Can you walk, sweetheart?” Lynette purred softly. When Bree nodded, the blonde helped her to her feet and wrapped a strong arm around her waist. “Upstairs, love.”
The stairs themselves were a challenge. Each step up was excruciating as Bree’s legs were overcome with pins and needles. Grateful for Lynette’s support, the redhead stumbled up the stairs crying out softly as she knocked her shin on the sharp stair’s edge. She was gasping with the intensity of the pain by the time they reached the top of the stairs and wishing to god the feeling in her feet would just hurry the hell up and come back.
There was a fluffy white robe waiting on the back of one of the kitchen chairs with a pair of slippers beneath it. Lynette smiled, her eyes glancing at the ceiling as her thoughts went to Tom; he was nothing if not thorough. Wrapping Bree up in the robe and kneeling down to put her dainty feet into the slippers, Lynette took extra care to tighten the belt and sit Bree down in the chair. Flicking on the electric kettle, she readied a cup of tea as the redhead watched dizzily.
Looking down at her pale hand against the wood of the kitchen table, Bree barely recognized her own fingers. Did they really belong to her? These long, cold, nearly blue digits with the cracked, chipped and broken nails? Did Bree Van deKamp really have that much dirt under her usually immaculate fingernails? Yes. She did. And taking a deep breath, Bree reveled in that fact. The mere sight of dirt under her fingernails made her heart soar. Finally - she’d been set free.
Unlike her own, Lynette’s hand was flawless as it appeared in front of her line of vision, offering itself like a knight in shining armour. Taking it, Bree was again helped to her feet and held around the waist as Lynette carried the tea towards the second level of the house. The feeling in her extremities had returned and Bree didn’t find this staircase such a challenge.
Lynette steered her into the bathroom and set her on the toilet seat, putting the tea in her hand as she plugged the tub and turned the faucets on full blast; with the door closed, the steam quickly fogged up the mirror and lone window. Turning to Bree, Lynette caressed her cheek with every bit of tenderness she had denied her in the last handful of hours. It brought tears unchecked to Bree’s dark emerald eyes and she closed them against the inevitable onslaught, leaning into the touch with a soft mewl.
“Drink your tea.” The command was quiet and loving. Bree marveled at the difference between this woman and the one that had been humiliating her only moments earlier.
“Yes, Mistress.” She hadn’t meant for it to come out in a whisper but she couldn’t expect much from her vocal chords; she’d strained them screaming earlier and more recently hadn’t used them at all. In any case, she watched the pleasure cross Lynette’s face at the words she had chosen to speak first.
“Good girl.” And those two words brought more warmth to Bree than any amount of tea ever could.
Button after button, hand over hand, Lynette began to undress. Bree’s eyes widened as she watched her blonde lover slowly reveal herself. A sharp intake of breath from Bree took them both by surprise as Lynette’s bra-bound breasts came into view and Lynette grinned as Bree blushed. The skirt was next and as it fell in a puddle on the ground, Bree whimpered and couldn’t help but stare at Lynette’s magnificent thighs. With a chuckle, Lynette caught her under the chin and forced her gaze upwards.
“I’ll let you do the rest, pet.” Mirth danced in her eyes as Bree blinked and hesitated. “Go on. Get up and undress me.”
Bree didn’t know she was holding her breath until she was forced to take one for fear of passing out. Her fingers fumbled embarrassingly with Lynette’s bra clasp but finally it released and her hands pressed tentatively against Lynette’s shoulders as she pushed the straps down. Lynette shivered; Bree’s hands were still colder than usual. With Lynette’s bra on the ground, Bree’s fingers hovered above the waistline of her panties. Shivering from reasons other than cold, Bree rested her cheek against Lynette’s shoulder and sighed with anticipation before grasping the fabric and sliding down to her knees. With the underwear around Lynette’s ankles, there was nothing more for Bree to do but bow her head and kneel quietly.
Lynette stepped out of the lacy lingerie, kicking it aside and smiling down at her compliant pet. Dragging a hand through Bree’s hair for a moment before getting into the tub, Lynette’s thoughts lingered on their day. “Join me, puppet.”
Hastily, Bree stood, stepped out of her slippers and shrugged out of the robe. Her body was a mass of dirt, grime, bruises and stains. She was amazed that Lynette would even consider getting into the same bathtub as her but she wasn’t about the ask questions. Stepping over the tub’s edge, she slid under the water with a deep groan. It was only then she began to notice the throbbing ache in all of her muscles. Muscles that had been pulled at awkward angles, stretched taut and bound tight. It was only then she began to notice all the other little bumps and bruises, the sores soaking in the water and washing away the layers of dirt that had made them invisible. It was only then she began to shake with the power of her emotions. Turning, she curled into a fetal position against Lynette and sobbed.
Lynette wrapped her arms around Bree’s quaking form, closing her eyes and waiting out the emotional storm. As Bree calmed, Lynette took a cloth and began to wash the dirt from the redhead’s flesh. When that was done, she systematically washed and rinsed the grime from the russet locks with such care that they gleamed once more. When she was finished, Bree looked up at her with tears of gratitude threatening to fall. “I love you.” She whispered.
Cupping Bree’s face, Lynette pressed a loving kiss to her brow and murmured back; “This isn’t the end.” Sitting in dirty bath water, that reply sank Bree back against Lynette with a purred sigh of satisfaction.
It wasn’t the end.
...To Be Continued...
x-posted to flickacross bree_lynette desperate_fic girlslash
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairings: Bree Van deKamp, Tom and Lynette Scavo
Chapter: Part V
Rating: N17/N18/R/X-Rated!!
Author's Note: From a technical point, there are some pretty great writing in this chapter. Not to pat my own back or anything. :P
Lynette wore the smug smile of victory as her eyes washed over the captured form of Bree. The darkened circle of cement surrounding the tethered redhead looked like the beginning of some satanic ritual. To anyone leaning down to look into Lynette Scavo’s basement windows, it could have appeared to be just that; but to Bree Van deKamp, it was her emotional release personified in liquid form, having metaphorically dripped from her to stain the ground.
Looking out one of those dusty, half-windows to the grass outside, Lynette could tell by the shadows thrown on her lawn that it was far passed midnight. It was now officially Saturday, the second day out of three. She moved her gaze back to Bree and noted the exhaustion in her lover’s face; not only physically tired she was emotionally drained. Bree had nothing left, she’d used every last reserve she had and now was a tiptoe away from hypothermia.
Frowning, the fully clothed blonde studied the husband-and-wife rope work. Bree’s hands had grown cold from a combination of icy water and lack of blood flow; her body sagged forward against her bonds - there was no way Lynette was going to be able to release her without help. Unless….
Untying the shivering creature’s legs, Lynette gingerly manipulated the frozen limbs until Bree was sitting ‘side saddle’ on the wooden horse. Then, using a ladder, she unknotted the rope from the rafters, holding the end taut and keeping Bree held up as she climbed back down. Standing in front of Bree, she now slowly let out the slack and watched as Bree fell forward inch by inch, into her arms.
Bending slightly under the weight of the smaller woman, Lynette sat down on an old trunk and placed Bree in her lap; the redhead fell limply against her and laid still. Worried, Lynette grabbed a nearby bed sheet from the laundry hamper and began to viciously rub the life back into Bree’s motionless torso.
With a whimpered moan, Bree’s lashes fluttered and she shivered violently. “Come on pet, come back to me.” Lynette murmured tenderly against Bree’s cold cheek as she brushed softly at the frigid water droplets clinging to her skin.
Bree’s teeth were chattering so hard she opted for burying her head into the crook of Lynette’s neck over talking. Being held tightly in the bed sheet and Lynette’s arms, Bree slowly began to feel the tips of her fingers and toes again. Shivering, she pressed a soft kiss to Lynette’s neck. It made Lynette smile.
“Can you walk, sweetheart?” Lynette purred softly. When Bree nodded, the blonde helped her to her feet and wrapped a strong arm around her waist. “Upstairs, love.”
The stairs themselves were a challenge. Each step up was excruciating as Bree’s legs were overcome with pins and needles. Grateful for Lynette’s support, the redhead stumbled up the stairs crying out softly as she knocked her shin on the sharp stair’s edge. She was gasping with the intensity of the pain by the time they reached the top of the stairs and wishing to god the feeling in her feet would just hurry the hell up and come back.
There was a fluffy white robe waiting on the back of one of the kitchen chairs with a pair of slippers beneath it. Lynette smiled, her eyes glancing at the ceiling as her thoughts went to Tom; he was nothing if not thorough. Wrapping Bree up in the robe and kneeling down to put her dainty feet into the slippers, Lynette took extra care to tighten the belt and sit Bree down in the chair. Flicking on the electric kettle, she readied a cup of tea as the redhead watched dizzily.
Looking down at her pale hand against the wood of the kitchen table, Bree barely recognized her own fingers. Did they really belong to her? These long, cold, nearly blue digits with the cracked, chipped and broken nails? Did Bree Van deKamp really have that much dirt under her usually immaculate fingernails? Yes. She did. And taking a deep breath, Bree reveled in that fact. The mere sight of dirt under her fingernails made her heart soar. Finally - she’d been set free.
Unlike her own, Lynette’s hand was flawless as it appeared in front of her line of vision, offering itself like a knight in shining armour. Taking it, Bree was again helped to her feet and held around the waist as Lynette carried the tea towards the second level of the house. The feeling in her extremities had returned and Bree didn’t find this staircase such a challenge.
Lynette steered her into the bathroom and set her on the toilet seat, putting the tea in her hand as she plugged the tub and turned the faucets on full blast; with the door closed, the steam quickly fogged up the mirror and lone window. Turning to Bree, Lynette caressed her cheek with every bit of tenderness she had denied her in the last handful of hours. It brought tears unchecked to Bree’s dark emerald eyes and she closed them against the inevitable onslaught, leaning into the touch with a soft mewl.
“Drink your tea.” The command was quiet and loving. Bree marveled at the difference between this woman and the one that had been humiliating her only moments earlier.
“Yes, Mistress.” She hadn’t meant for it to come out in a whisper but she couldn’t expect much from her vocal chords; she’d strained them screaming earlier and more recently hadn’t used them at all. In any case, she watched the pleasure cross Lynette’s face at the words she had chosen to speak first.
“Good girl.” And those two words brought more warmth to Bree than any amount of tea ever could.
Button after button, hand over hand, Lynette began to undress. Bree’s eyes widened as she watched her blonde lover slowly reveal herself. A sharp intake of breath from Bree took them both by surprise as Lynette’s bra-bound breasts came into view and Lynette grinned as Bree blushed. The skirt was next and as it fell in a puddle on the ground, Bree whimpered and couldn’t help but stare at Lynette’s magnificent thighs. With a chuckle, Lynette caught her under the chin and forced her gaze upwards.
“I’ll let you do the rest, pet.” Mirth danced in her eyes as Bree blinked and hesitated. “Go on. Get up and undress me.”
Bree didn’t know she was holding her breath until she was forced to take one for fear of passing out. Her fingers fumbled embarrassingly with Lynette’s bra clasp but finally it released and her hands pressed tentatively against Lynette’s shoulders as she pushed the straps down. Lynette shivered; Bree’s hands were still colder than usual. With Lynette’s bra on the ground, Bree’s fingers hovered above the waistline of her panties. Shivering from reasons other than cold, Bree rested her cheek against Lynette’s shoulder and sighed with anticipation before grasping the fabric and sliding down to her knees. With the underwear around Lynette’s ankles, there was nothing more for Bree to do but bow her head and kneel quietly.
Lynette stepped out of the lacy lingerie, kicking it aside and smiling down at her compliant pet. Dragging a hand through Bree’s hair for a moment before getting into the tub, Lynette’s thoughts lingered on their day. “Join me, puppet.”
Hastily, Bree stood, stepped out of her slippers and shrugged out of the robe. Her body was a mass of dirt, grime, bruises and stains. She was amazed that Lynette would even consider getting into the same bathtub as her but she wasn’t about the ask questions. Stepping over the tub’s edge, she slid under the water with a deep groan. It was only then she began to notice the throbbing ache in all of her muscles. Muscles that had been pulled at awkward angles, stretched taut and bound tight. It was only then she began to notice all the other little bumps and bruises, the sores soaking in the water and washing away the layers of dirt that had made them invisible. It was only then she began to shake with the power of her emotions. Turning, she curled into a fetal position against Lynette and sobbed.
Lynette wrapped her arms around Bree’s quaking form, closing her eyes and waiting out the emotional storm. As Bree calmed, Lynette took a cloth and began to wash the dirt from the redhead’s flesh. When that was done, she systematically washed and rinsed the grime from the russet locks with such care that they gleamed once more. When she was finished, Bree looked up at her with tears of gratitude threatening to fall. “I love you.” She whispered.
Cupping Bree’s face, Lynette pressed a loving kiss to her brow and murmured back; “This isn’t the end.” Sitting in dirty bath water, that reply sank Bree back against Lynette with a purred sigh of satisfaction.
It wasn’t the end.
...To Be Continued...
x-posted to flickacross bree_lynette desperate_fic girlslash