The Sequel: Part VII
Title: 'The Sequel'
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairings: Bree Van deKamp and Lynette Scavo
Chapter: Part VII
Rating: N18
Author's Note: This chapter is calm until the very end, then it deals with some pretty kinky issues - please keep that in mind.
“The only words I want to hear come out of your mouth are ‘Yes/No, Mistress’, understood?” Lynette had moved to the living room to finish the paper and was stretched out in her favourite chair, her feet resting on the small of Bree’s back as the naked woman held herself up on all fours.
“Yes, Mistress.” Bree shifted slightly, steadying herself against the dead weight of Lynette’s feet resting on her. Holding this position for as long as she already had been was beginning to wear on her; her knees ached from their position against the solid hardwood floor, her shoulders throbbed from the attempt at keeping her head up as she was told to and the small of her back was beginning to go numb where Lynette’s feet were digging into her spine.
The kettle whistled loudly and Bree jumped from the disruption, knocking Lynette’s feet to the ground. With a frown, Lynette tapped Bree firmly in the ribs with the toe of her slipper. “Do tables move?”
Wincing, Bree closed her eyes. “No, Mistress.”
“I didn’t think so.” Lynette got to her feet. “Stay.” In the kitchen, she made herself a mug of tea and grabbed a box of cookies. Then, upon further thought, she put the teapot, cream and sugar on a tray along with the cookies and her mug before returning to her spot.
Leaning forward, Lynette carefully placed the laden tray down on Bree’s pale skin, watching her back bow under the weight. “You will not move an inch Bree, or I will make sure this scalding tea falls on you instead of the floor.”
Eyes wide at the idea of being burned, Bree’s breathing became shallower in order to keep her body still and she replied barely above a whisper; “Yes, Mistress.”
Nodding, pleased, Lynette leaned back with her tea and read her horoscope; chuckling at the auspiciousness of it before reading Bree’s and laughing aloud. “It says here, Bree that you will succeed in achieving that which you strive for if you put some of that determination you are known for towards your goal.” Glancing down at the human coffee table, Lynette smiled, slid her foot out of her slipper and reached forward to brush her toes against Bree’s dangling nipples. “Lucky me.” She murmured, watching the redhead shiver at her touch and attempt to stay still.
Dunking a cookie in her tea, Lynette nibbled on it and tossed the newspaper aside. At the sight of the black type against the bored grey, Bree had flashes of her first few hours in the Scavo household yesterday. The long, torturous hours before she had finally swallowed her pride and released the pressure in her bladder onto a pile of papers much like the one that now lay in front of her line of vision.
Sliding off of her chair, Lynette crouched down in front of her flesh-made table and offered Bree a cookie. Parting her lips, Bree took the cookie gingerly and licked the crumbs from her mouth. With a cruel grin, Lynette held another cookie in front of Bree, just barely out of her reach. Bree looked at her with wide eyes and Lynette nodded; “Go on, get it.” With a slight frown, Bree slowly leaned forward; the tray on her back wobbled and the spoon collided with the creamer. The cookie in her mouth, Bree’s chest heaved as the tray settled again. Another cookie appeared just above the ground in front of Bree; the redhead whimpered in protest as she knew the tray would surely fall if she lowered herself to get it.
“You can do it, pet.” Lynette purred encouragingly. Bree hesitated for a long moment before she realized there were no rules for this game. Bree slowly lowered her ass back down onto her heels, getting as close to the ground as possible, steadying herself she then reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed the cookie from Lynette, thrusting it in her mouth greedily. Lynette laughed, rocking back on her heels and clapping her hands gleefully. “Well done!” Bree’s grin was full of cookie crumbs.
Lynette removed the tray from Bree’s back, placing it on the actual coffee table, she was distracted by the feather duster she’d bought one night on a whim when she’d waited for Tom dressed up as a French maid. With a grin, she stood, grabbed it and returned to stand before Bree. “Stand up, precious.”
Bree did so with a confused glance at the feather duster. Lynette thrust it in her hand triumphantly and motioned around the room. “Dust.” Eyes dancing, Lynette watched Bree hesitate. “What? I have my very own personal slave for the weekend and you don’t think I’m going to use that to its fullest potential? Now, dust!”
The redhead jumped slightly and moved away from Lynette, moving slowly around the room diligently picking up objects, dusting under and around them, before replacing them in their original spots. Lynette followed her naked slave, watching Bree’s progress carefully. Rolling up the newspaper, she smacked it ominously against the flat of her palm as Bree worked. “When you’re finished with that, you will see to the laundry, the dishes and the kitchen floor.” Lynette punctuated each word with a swat of the newspaper to Bree’s bare ass, watching with amusement as the girl jumped every time.
“Yes, Mistress.” Bree’s eyes were downcast and humility could have been written across her face in permanent marker she was so contrite. So perfect. Lynette sneered and considered mocking the redhead but decided not to waste anymore time.
“Good.” Spinning away from her, Lynette disappeared up the stairs as Bree continued to dust before moving to the loads of laundry awaiting her.
* * *
An hour later, Bree had finished the dusting, completed the dishes and washed down the kitchen floor as well as folded the clothes in the dryer and set another load in both the washer and dryer. She stood quietly, with hands clasped in her lap and watched as Lynette descended from the bedroom.
The blonde was freshly showered; her hair pinned up and away from her face, she wore jeans, a white tank top and a fitted red shirt over top. She looked so frustratingly like Lynette that Bree felt even more unlike Bree with her lack of clothing, covered in dust and dirt from the kitchen floor. Staring at the floor, she waited for Lynette to speak.
Instead of speaking, Lynette put a glass down on the counter in front of Bree. It was so full it nearly spilled over the edge. The liquid within it was a clear golden colour. Bree stared at it for a full minute, feeling at first confused and then the pit of her stomach fell away only to be replaced with dread. Slowly, she looked up at Lynette with her brows raised in all the questions she didn’t dare ask.
“Drink it.”
Those two words broke the spell and Bree was suddenly backing away. Shaking her head vehemently and heading towards the stairway. “No. No, no nonono. I will not!” Feeling the rage and horror rise in her throat like acid bile, Bree had one foot on the stairs before Lynette’s hand caught her there. “Lynette. No. I can’t.”
“Then you have a choice to make Bree.” Lynette released Bree’s wrist and stepped back, motioning to the front door. “Drink it or leave.”
Bree’s nostrils flared and her crazed gaze flitted between the front door and that menacing glass on the counter. Lynette’s last words ringing in her head, making her dizzy, they were making it hard to think straight. Any sane person would not hesitate to walk out that door - after all she’d endured thus far and all she was being asked to endure further - they would walk out and never look back. Bree hesitated; she wasn’t so sure she was one of those sane people; and Lynette’s voice, forever ringing in her mind.
“Drink it or leave.”
...To Be Continued...
x-posted to flickacross bree_lynette desperate_fic girlslash
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairings: Bree Van deKamp and Lynette Scavo
Chapter: Part VII
Rating: N18
Author's Note: This chapter is calm until the very end, then it deals with some pretty kinky issues - please keep that in mind.
“The only words I want to hear come out of your mouth are ‘Yes/No, Mistress’, understood?” Lynette had moved to the living room to finish the paper and was stretched out in her favourite chair, her feet resting on the small of Bree’s back as the naked woman held herself up on all fours.
“Yes, Mistress.” Bree shifted slightly, steadying herself against the dead weight of Lynette’s feet resting on her. Holding this position for as long as she already had been was beginning to wear on her; her knees ached from their position against the solid hardwood floor, her shoulders throbbed from the attempt at keeping her head up as she was told to and the small of her back was beginning to go numb where Lynette’s feet were digging into her spine.
The kettle whistled loudly and Bree jumped from the disruption, knocking Lynette’s feet to the ground. With a frown, Lynette tapped Bree firmly in the ribs with the toe of her slipper. “Do tables move?”
Wincing, Bree closed her eyes. “No, Mistress.”
“I didn’t think so.” Lynette got to her feet. “Stay.” In the kitchen, she made herself a mug of tea and grabbed a box of cookies. Then, upon further thought, she put the teapot, cream and sugar on a tray along with the cookies and her mug before returning to her spot.
Leaning forward, Lynette carefully placed the laden tray down on Bree’s pale skin, watching her back bow under the weight. “You will not move an inch Bree, or I will make sure this scalding tea falls on you instead of the floor.”
Eyes wide at the idea of being burned, Bree’s breathing became shallower in order to keep her body still and she replied barely above a whisper; “Yes, Mistress.”
Nodding, pleased, Lynette leaned back with her tea and read her horoscope; chuckling at the auspiciousness of it before reading Bree’s and laughing aloud. “It says here, Bree that you will succeed in achieving that which you strive for if you put some of that determination you are known for towards your goal.” Glancing down at the human coffee table, Lynette smiled, slid her foot out of her slipper and reached forward to brush her toes against Bree’s dangling nipples. “Lucky me.” She murmured, watching the redhead shiver at her touch and attempt to stay still.
Dunking a cookie in her tea, Lynette nibbled on it and tossed the newspaper aside. At the sight of the black type against the bored grey, Bree had flashes of her first few hours in the Scavo household yesterday. The long, torturous hours before she had finally swallowed her pride and released the pressure in her bladder onto a pile of papers much like the one that now lay in front of her line of vision.
Sliding off of her chair, Lynette crouched down in front of her flesh-made table and offered Bree a cookie. Parting her lips, Bree took the cookie gingerly and licked the crumbs from her mouth. With a cruel grin, Lynette held another cookie in front of Bree, just barely out of her reach. Bree looked at her with wide eyes and Lynette nodded; “Go on, get it.” With a slight frown, Bree slowly leaned forward; the tray on her back wobbled and the spoon collided with the creamer. The cookie in her mouth, Bree’s chest heaved as the tray settled again. Another cookie appeared just above the ground in front of Bree; the redhead whimpered in protest as she knew the tray would surely fall if she lowered herself to get it.
“You can do it, pet.” Lynette purred encouragingly. Bree hesitated for a long moment before she realized there were no rules for this game. Bree slowly lowered her ass back down onto her heels, getting as close to the ground as possible, steadying herself she then reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed the cookie from Lynette, thrusting it in her mouth greedily. Lynette laughed, rocking back on her heels and clapping her hands gleefully. “Well done!” Bree’s grin was full of cookie crumbs.
Lynette removed the tray from Bree’s back, placing it on the actual coffee table, she was distracted by the feather duster she’d bought one night on a whim when she’d waited for Tom dressed up as a French maid. With a grin, she stood, grabbed it and returned to stand before Bree. “Stand up, precious.”
Bree did so with a confused glance at the feather duster. Lynette thrust it in her hand triumphantly and motioned around the room. “Dust.” Eyes dancing, Lynette watched Bree hesitate. “What? I have my very own personal slave for the weekend and you don’t think I’m going to use that to its fullest potential? Now, dust!”
The redhead jumped slightly and moved away from Lynette, moving slowly around the room diligently picking up objects, dusting under and around them, before replacing them in their original spots. Lynette followed her naked slave, watching Bree’s progress carefully. Rolling up the newspaper, she smacked it ominously against the flat of her palm as Bree worked. “When you’re finished with that, you will see to the laundry, the dishes and the kitchen floor.” Lynette punctuated each word with a swat of the newspaper to Bree’s bare ass, watching with amusement as the girl jumped every time.
“Yes, Mistress.” Bree’s eyes were downcast and humility could have been written across her face in permanent marker she was so contrite. So perfect. Lynette sneered and considered mocking the redhead but decided not to waste anymore time.
“Good.” Spinning away from her, Lynette disappeared up the stairs as Bree continued to dust before moving to the loads of laundry awaiting her.
* * *
An hour later, Bree had finished the dusting, completed the dishes and washed down the kitchen floor as well as folded the clothes in the dryer and set another load in both the washer and dryer. She stood quietly, with hands clasped in her lap and watched as Lynette descended from the bedroom.
The blonde was freshly showered; her hair pinned up and away from her face, she wore jeans, a white tank top and a fitted red shirt over top. She looked so frustratingly like Lynette that Bree felt even more unlike Bree with her lack of clothing, covered in dust and dirt from the kitchen floor. Staring at the floor, she waited for Lynette to speak.
Instead of speaking, Lynette put a glass down on the counter in front of Bree. It was so full it nearly spilled over the edge. The liquid within it was a clear golden colour. Bree stared at it for a full minute, feeling at first confused and then the pit of her stomach fell away only to be replaced with dread. Slowly, she looked up at Lynette with her brows raised in all the questions she didn’t dare ask.
“Drink it.”
Those two words broke the spell and Bree was suddenly backing away. Shaking her head vehemently and heading towards the stairway. “No. No, no nonono. I will not!” Feeling the rage and horror rise in her throat like acid bile, Bree had one foot on the stairs before Lynette’s hand caught her there. “Lynette. No. I can’t.”
“Then you have a choice to make Bree.” Lynette released Bree’s wrist and stepped back, motioning to the front door. “Drink it or leave.”
Bree’s nostrils flared and her crazed gaze flitted between the front door and that menacing glass on the counter. Lynette’s last words ringing in her head, making her dizzy, they were making it hard to think straight. Any sane person would not hesitate to walk out that door - after all she’d endured thus far and all she was being asked to endure further - they would walk out and never look back. Bree hesitated; she wasn’t so sure she was one of those sane people; and Lynette’s voice, forever ringing in her mind.
“Drink it or leave.”
...To Be Continued...
x-posted to flickacross bree_lynette desperate_fic girlslash