The Sequel: Part IV
Title: 'The Sequel'
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairings: Bree Van deKamp, Tom and Lynette Scavo
Chapter: Part IV
Rating: N17/N18/R/X-Rated!!
Author's Note: This fic is taking me longer to write and I'm just going to stop apologizing for it because if I rush it, it isn't going to be any good. Thanks for all of your patience! :D
Looking down at Bree’s crumpled form, as it lay sleeping on the cold concrete floor; Lynette placed the wine glass to her lips in a moment of forgetfulness but caught herself just as the liquid touched her lips. Wiping it off with the back of her hand, she shook her head at herself and called up the stairs to Tom.
Still feeling the weight of his guilt, Tom lumbered down the stairs with a heavy sigh. He stopped short at the sight of the redhead passed out at his wife’s feet. Lynette strode over to him and thrust the wine glass into his hand, he glanced down into the murky blood red liquid and back at her questioningly.
“Get rid of that.” Lynette’s eyes bore into his as she spoke evenly. “Don’t drink it.”
Tom’s eyes widened and flitted from Lynette to Bree and back to the wine. “Lynette, what have you done?” Tom leaned over, pushed open the basement window and tossed the contents of the wine glass onto the dirt outside then put the glass down on the basement steps.
“She’s fine honey. Help me with her.” Lynette bent down and grabbed Bree’s feet, looking up at Tom expectantly.
Tom shook his head, wondering what sort of person he had married. What had he signed on to when he’d said those two tiny words “I do” and Lynette had become Mrs. Scavo? He loved her, that he couldn’t help but he also feared her. Gathering the limp Bree in his arms, he helped his wife carry her over to the forgotten wooden horse he bought on a whim one year when he told Lynette he wanted to become a carpenter. That was the same year he’d told her he was going to renovate the bathroom and it turned into such a disaster that she threatened to burn all his tools while dancing gaily around the bonfire it would create. Needless to say, Tom never tried his hand at woodworking again.
Now, Lynette spread Bree’s naked legs and gingerly placed her on the horse so that she was straddling the wood. Tom held the dead weight of the slight woman against him as his wife swiftly tied Bree’s legs to the horse then tied her hands together and handed him the slack.
“Tie this around the beam up there and make it taut. It needs to hold her weight and it also needs to hold her in place when she wakes up and begins to struggle.” Lynette listened to her instructions and the nonchalance with which she said them struck her as absurd. She could have been giving driving directions or lessons on how to tie a bow on a present. Looking at Bree strung up on the horse with her head hanging limply against her chest and her jaw a gaping maw as drool slid down her chest brought a sick satisfaction to her twisted mind. Even worse than that, it brought a dark wetness between her thighs that not even her husband could achieve after hours of foreplay.
Stepping back as Tom finished tying the slack to the rafters, Lynette’s eyes took their precious time washing over every messy inch of Bree’s sagging form. Her naked skin littered with dirt smears; her face streaked with mascara and tears; her glorious mane of red dulled with dust and sticky with cum. She took a step forward and reached out to cup Bree’s chin, it was slick with saliva as she turned Bree’s face upwards and studied the sleeping woman’s features spending an extra amount of time on the bloodied scratch colouring Bree’s cheek. Taking a moment, the blonde subjugator gazed upon her captured creature with love and felt blessed to have been given Bree’s surrender then she leaned down to press a kiss to her bottom lip.
“Lynette, I don’t want to play this game anymore.” Tom spoke quietly as he watched Lynette scrutinize Bree. He was growing more uncomfortable by the moment with both the situation and the feelings of lust that he experienced because of it.
“This isn’t a game Tom.” Lynette seemed to be speaking to Bree as she released the redhead’s chin softly and guided it back to droop lifelessly. “If you want my permission to leave…” Looking up at her husband, Lynette felt guilty for having dragged him into her deepest fantasies and for having proven to him that he too, wanted dark things. “…you have it. Bree has consented to giving herself - all of her - to me for this allotted time and I intend to take full advantage of that without any encumbering guilt. You, however, have not really consented to taking part in it or even having to watch it. Being my husband does not mean you have to be a part of everything I am. Sometimes Tom, being my husband means you have to realize that you can’t be a part of everything that I am.”
Tom opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by her mouth on his in a gentle, tender kiss. “It doesn’t mean I love you any less. In fact, it means I love you more. For understanding and for letting me feed those other parts of self where and when I can.” Her palm smoothed against his scratchy cheek and her loving smile melted his resolve, with a glance over her shoulder at Bree, Tom nodded and pulled away.
Releasing her husband, Lynette smiled and watched him walk back up the stairs with the wine glass. “I won’t hurt her Tom. Not really.” Turning back to Bree, Lynette murmured softly. “She wants to be hurt.”
* * *
Standing in front of the bound woman, Lynette held a dark green hose in her hands, bending it to catch the water in its tubing. She’d turned it on, twisting it until she couldn’t turn it any longer. With a slow smile, Lynette let the kink in the hose unfurl itself and watched as water spewed forth angrily. It chugged faithfully onto the dusty cement and found its way down the medium-sized drain in the middle of the floor. Thankfully, they’d had that installed the first time their basement had flooded; and even though it hadn’t flooded since, the drain was now proving to be very useful.
Thrusting her thumb into the flow of the water, Lynette lifted the powerful spray and focused its icy coldness onto Bree. In a matter of seconds Bree was gasping loudly, sputtering and letting forth an earsplitting screech. The water continued to shower down upon the redhead, soaking her in what felt like glacier iciness.
She began to fight, twisting and turning on the horse which only ground its rough wooden hardness into her sex which made her cry out painfully. She tried to hide her face behind her arms, her mouth opening and closing like a fish on land as she found to breathe in the moments when the spray wasn’t directly on her face.
Lynette watched as the dirt slid down her friend’s flesh and washed away. She marveled at the way Bree’s hair darkened into a deep near-burgundy when wet and how it then matched the thick thatch of hair between her legs perfectly. The water glistened on Bree’s goose bumped skin and poured down her body, gurgling angrily as it rushed towards the drain, trying to win the race.
Finally, Bree managed to get enough air to let out a vicious scream and Lynette twisted the hose, moving to the wall to turn off the water and drop its snaking green tubing on the floor.
“Fuck! Jesus….fuck…ohmygod!...” Bree sputtered in between gasps as she fought to slow her heartbeat and stop trembling. Her eyes blazed with rage as her head snapped up, finally cleared of the drugged haze she’d experienced upon first awakening, to glare at Lynette. “What the fuck! Jesus Lynette, are you fucking crazy?!”
Lynette’s brows raised slightly as she stood still beneath the onslaught of Bree’s anger; she’d never heard such foul language spew from Bree’s mouth before and she grinned within to find that it turned her on. “I think that’s debatable.” She tossed back as she walked towards her frozen pet. “But I’m not the one who volunteered to be placed in this situation, am I?”
Bree’s face visibly dropped and her body surrendered to the truth as it sagged against its bonds. “I didn’t sign up for this Lynette.”
Tilting her head, Lynette gazed up into Bree’s darkened eyes and watched as the water dripped down her face. “Do you want to leave?”
Bree took a deep breath and tore her gaze from Lynette’s. This was insanity. She was trussed up like a puppet; she’d been placed in a cage and made to urinate on newspaper; she’d been drugged and humiliated; she had Tom’s cum in her hair. The worst part of it was that as she shifted on the horse, she could feel the slickness between her thighs. She shouldn’t want to be here. No normal person would want to be here. And yet….
“No. I want to be here.” Those words brought with them truth - there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
...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 IV
Rating: N17/N18/R/X-Rated!!
Author's Note: This fic is taking me longer to write and I'm just going to stop apologizing for it because if I rush it, it isn't going to be any good. Thanks for all of your patience! :D
Looking down at Bree’s crumpled form, as it lay sleeping on the cold concrete floor; Lynette placed the wine glass to her lips in a moment of forgetfulness but caught herself just as the liquid touched her lips. Wiping it off with the back of her hand, she shook her head at herself and called up the stairs to Tom.
Still feeling the weight of his guilt, Tom lumbered down the stairs with a heavy sigh. He stopped short at the sight of the redhead passed out at his wife’s feet. Lynette strode over to him and thrust the wine glass into his hand, he glanced down into the murky blood red liquid and back at her questioningly.
“Get rid of that.” Lynette’s eyes bore into his as she spoke evenly. “Don’t drink it.”
Tom’s eyes widened and flitted from Lynette to Bree and back to the wine. “Lynette, what have you done?” Tom leaned over, pushed open the basement window and tossed the contents of the wine glass onto the dirt outside then put the glass down on the basement steps.
“She’s fine honey. Help me with her.” Lynette bent down and grabbed Bree’s feet, looking up at Tom expectantly.
Tom shook his head, wondering what sort of person he had married. What had he signed on to when he’d said those two tiny words “I do” and Lynette had become Mrs. Scavo? He loved her, that he couldn’t help but he also feared her. Gathering the limp Bree in his arms, he helped his wife carry her over to the forgotten wooden horse he bought on a whim one year when he told Lynette he wanted to become a carpenter. That was the same year he’d told her he was going to renovate the bathroom and it turned into such a disaster that she threatened to burn all his tools while dancing gaily around the bonfire it would create. Needless to say, Tom never tried his hand at woodworking again.
Now, Lynette spread Bree’s naked legs and gingerly placed her on the horse so that she was straddling the wood. Tom held the dead weight of the slight woman against him as his wife swiftly tied Bree’s legs to the horse then tied her hands together and handed him the slack.
“Tie this around the beam up there and make it taut. It needs to hold her weight and it also needs to hold her in place when she wakes up and begins to struggle.” Lynette listened to her instructions and the nonchalance with which she said them struck her as absurd. She could have been giving driving directions or lessons on how to tie a bow on a present. Looking at Bree strung up on the horse with her head hanging limply against her chest and her jaw a gaping maw as drool slid down her chest brought a sick satisfaction to her twisted mind. Even worse than that, it brought a dark wetness between her thighs that not even her husband could achieve after hours of foreplay.
Stepping back as Tom finished tying the slack to the rafters, Lynette’s eyes took their precious time washing over every messy inch of Bree’s sagging form. Her naked skin littered with dirt smears; her face streaked with mascara and tears; her glorious mane of red dulled with dust and sticky with cum. She took a step forward and reached out to cup Bree’s chin, it was slick with saliva as she turned Bree’s face upwards and studied the sleeping woman’s features spending an extra amount of time on the bloodied scratch colouring Bree’s cheek. Taking a moment, the blonde subjugator gazed upon her captured creature with love and felt blessed to have been given Bree’s surrender then she leaned down to press a kiss to her bottom lip.
“Lynette, I don’t want to play this game anymore.” Tom spoke quietly as he watched Lynette scrutinize Bree. He was growing more uncomfortable by the moment with both the situation and the feelings of lust that he experienced because of it.
“This isn’t a game Tom.” Lynette seemed to be speaking to Bree as she released the redhead’s chin softly and guided it back to droop lifelessly. “If you want my permission to leave…” Looking up at her husband, Lynette felt guilty for having dragged him into her deepest fantasies and for having proven to him that he too, wanted dark things. “…you have it. Bree has consented to giving herself - all of her - to me for this allotted time and I intend to take full advantage of that without any encumbering guilt. You, however, have not really consented to taking part in it or even having to watch it. Being my husband does not mean you have to be a part of everything I am. Sometimes Tom, being my husband means you have to realize that you can’t be a part of everything that I am.”
Tom opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by her mouth on his in a gentle, tender kiss. “It doesn’t mean I love you any less. In fact, it means I love you more. For understanding and for letting me feed those other parts of self where and when I can.” Her palm smoothed against his scratchy cheek and her loving smile melted his resolve, with a glance over her shoulder at Bree, Tom nodded and pulled away.
Releasing her husband, Lynette smiled and watched him walk back up the stairs with the wine glass. “I won’t hurt her Tom. Not really.” Turning back to Bree, Lynette murmured softly. “She wants to be hurt.”
* * *
Standing in front of the bound woman, Lynette held a dark green hose in her hands, bending it to catch the water in its tubing. She’d turned it on, twisting it until she couldn’t turn it any longer. With a slow smile, Lynette let the kink in the hose unfurl itself and watched as water spewed forth angrily. It chugged faithfully onto the dusty cement and found its way down the medium-sized drain in the middle of the floor. Thankfully, they’d had that installed the first time their basement had flooded; and even though it hadn’t flooded since, the drain was now proving to be very useful.
Thrusting her thumb into the flow of the water, Lynette lifted the powerful spray and focused its icy coldness onto Bree. In a matter of seconds Bree was gasping loudly, sputtering and letting forth an earsplitting screech. The water continued to shower down upon the redhead, soaking her in what felt like glacier iciness.
She began to fight, twisting and turning on the horse which only ground its rough wooden hardness into her sex which made her cry out painfully. She tried to hide her face behind her arms, her mouth opening and closing like a fish on land as she found to breathe in the moments when the spray wasn’t directly on her face.
Lynette watched as the dirt slid down her friend’s flesh and washed away. She marveled at the way Bree’s hair darkened into a deep near-burgundy when wet and how it then matched the thick thatch of hair between her legs perfectly. The water glistened on Bree’s goose bumped skin and poured down her body, gurgling angrily as it rushed towards the drain, trying to win the race.
Finally, Bree managed to get enough air to let out a vicious scream and Lynette twisted the hose, moving to the wall to turn off the water and drop its snaking green tubing on the floor.
“Fuck! Jesus….fuck…ohmygod!...” Bree sputtered in between gasps as she fought to slow her heartbeat and stop trembling. Her eyes blazed with rage as her head snapped up, finally cleared of the drugged haze she’d experienced upon first awakening, to glare at Lynette. “What the fuck! Jesus Lynette, are you fucking crazy?!”
Lynette’s brows raised slightly as she stood still beneath the onslaught of Bree’s anger; she’d never heard such foul language spew from Bree’s mouth before and she grinned within to find that it turned her on. “I think that’s debatable.” She tossed back as she walked towards her frozen pet. “But I’m not the one who volunteered to be placed in this situation, am I?”
Bree’s face visibly dropped and her body surrendered to the truth as it sagged against its bonds. “I didn’t sign up for this Lynette.”
Tilting her head, Lynette gazed up into Bree’s darkened eyes and watched as the water dripped down her face. “Do you want to leave?”
Bree took a deep breath and tore her gaze from Lynette’s. This was insanity. She was trussed up like a puppet; she’d been placed in a cage and made to urinate on newspaper; she’d been drugged and humiliated; she had Tom’s cum in her hair. The worst part of it was that as she shifted on the horse, she could feel the slickness between her thighs. She shouldn’t want to be here. No normal person would want to be here. And yet….
“No. I want to be here.” Those words brought with them truth - there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
...To Be Continued...
x-posted to flickacross bree_lynette desperate_fic girlslash