Captive and Captor | NC17 | The L Word
Title: Captive and Captor
Prompt: H is for Handcuffs
Challenge: A to Z Drabble Challenge
Fandom: Helena/Sgt. Duffy, The L Word
Requested by: miekhead
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 813
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I’m not sure where this idea came from, but I’m not complaining. Any chance to write about Lucy Lawless naked is a happy one. Let me know what you think!
-
Cold metal delivered a painfully erotic kiss to the soft flesh of Helena Peabody’s wrists, causing her to sigh in her unbridled contentment. Once the click of the second handcuff resounded in her ears, she tested their restraint by snapping her arms outwards. The handcuffs pinched uncomfortably and did not open; she was completely manacled.
Helena sat stiffly in the wooden chair of her lover’s kitchen, waiting for her to emerge from behind her back. She could smell the heady scent of her lover’s abundant arousal as it seeped from the apex of her thighs. She suppressed a groan, knowing she’d be forced to endure the endless desire to taste the sweet nectar until her lover decided to grant her freedom.
Slowly the naked form of Sergeant Marybeth Duffy was revealed to Helena’s eager eyes. She watched intensely as the officer encircled the chair and came to stand before her. Marybeth’s eyes twinkled in cruel delight at the sight of her imprisoned lover, her hands propped on her bare hips. Helena’s eyes roved over the woman’s body, taking in the sight of the glistening chestnut curls between her legs and the laced up Doc Marten’s that adorned her feet. She could almost smell the leather of the boots and she strained against the cuffs, longing to take her in her arms.
“Uh uh,” Marybeth said teasingly, straddling Helena’s thighs. “You are my captive.”
“Isn’t this considered cruel and unusual punishment?” Helena countered, leaning forward to kiss Marybeth’s collarbone.
The Sergeant leaned back, not allowing Helena’s lips to touch her. “You want me, don’t you?”
Helena hissed out a sharp breath as she watched the tantalizing rise and fall of Marybeth’s breasts. “Very much.”
Marybeth grinned, teasing the pads of her fingers gently across Helena’s shoulders. “I know.” She circled Helena’s puckered nipples and avoided the rigid rosy peaks. “You don’t hide it very well.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” the Brit replied, arching her back into Marybeth’s touch, causing the other woman to pull her hands away.
Marybeth tsked her tongue and shook her head, grinning wickedly. “Oh no you don’t,” she replied. “Sit still or I’ll leave you here.”
Helena sighed and acquiesced, leaning against the back of the chair.
“Good girl,” Marybeth said. “Now watch.”
Helena was scarcely able to do anything else. She watched in rapt attention as her lover swirled her tongue around her index and middle fingers, coating them with moisture that she then brought between her legs. Marybeth sighed as she began to stroke herself, her hips rocking slowly against Helena’s thighs.
Helena swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as all moisture in her body headed south. Her eyes darted between the hand that was working Marybeth’s clit and the look of rapture on Marybeth’s face. She groaned and struggled against that cuffs that bound her to the chair.
Marybeth hummed in pleasure, her eyes focusing on Helena’s as she smirked seductively. “You wish you were touching me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Helena choked, her cheeks aflame.
“You’re jealous that my hand is the one fucking me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she sighed again, unable to stop herself from moaning when she caught sight of just how wet Marybeth’s fingers were.
“Good.” Marybeth’s head tipped back in wordless supplication as her fingers began to massage faster around her clit.
Helena could feel the moisture coat her own legs and could feel the tightening of her lover’s thighs that signaled her impending release. She clenched her legs together, aching for any sort of friction she could achieve to make her unbounded desire bearable. She bit her lip and watched, unable to speak, as Marybeth came, her body shuddering its hard, wet release.
When Marybeth’s convulsions ceased, she gave a breathless sigh and tilted her forehead against Helena’s. She shifted gently and brought her fingers to Helena’s mouth, holding them still while Helena’s tongue darted between parted lips and lapped at the arousal. She groaned, feeling overcome by her own desire.
“Did that turn you on?” Marybeth asked.
“God…yes…”
“Do you want me to uncuff you?”
“Please…”
“No,” Marybeth whispered as she stood.
Helena struggled against her confinement, grunting in frustration when she remained stuck in her chair. Her wrists were beginning to ache. She felt as though she’d lose her mind if she didn’t get off.
This love, this constant game of captive and captor, infuriated and excited Helena. She wanted to hate the police officer, wanted to lash out against her, wanted to be the one in control - but she always succumbed when Sergeant Duffy wanted her.
As harsh and cruel as Marybeth wanted to be, she always gave Helena what she needed. She knelt before her and parted Helena’s thighs and Helena knew that she would always give herself completely to the other woman. She’d allow herself to be shackled as long as she knew she’d be freed again.
---
Prompt: H is for Handcuffs
Challenge: A to Z Drabble Challenge
Fandom: Helena/Sgt. Duffy, The L Word
Requested by: miekhead
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 813
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I’m not sure where this idea came from, but I’m not complaining. Any chance to write about Lucy Lawless naked is a happy one. Let me know what you think!
-
Cold metal delivered a painfully erotic kiss to the soft flesh of Helena Peabody’s wrists, causing her to sigh in her unbridled contentment. Once the click of the second handcuff resounded in her ears, she tested their restraint by snapping her arms outwards. The handcuffs pinched uncomfortably and did not open; she was completely manacled.
Helena sat stiffly in the wooden chair of her lover’s kitchen, waiting for her to emerge from behind her back. She could smell the heady scent of her lover’s abundant arousal as it seeped from the apex of her thighs. She suppressed a groan, knowing she’d be forced to endure the endless desire to taste the sweet nectar until her lover decided to grant her freedom.
Slowly the naked form of Sergeant Marybeth Duffy was revealed to Helena’s eager eyes. She watched intensely as the officer encircled the chair and came to stand before her. Marybeth’s eyes twinkled in cruel delight at the sight of her imprisoned lover, her hands propped on her bare hips. Helena’s eyes roved over the woman’s body, taking in the sight of the glistening chestnut curls between her legs and the laced up Doc Marten’s that adorned her feet. She could almost smell the leather of the boots and she strained against the cuffs, longing to take her in her arms.
“Uh uh,” Marybeth said teasingly, straddling Helena’s thighs. “You are my captive.”
“Isn’t this considered cruel and unusual punishment?” Helena countered, leaning forward to kiss Marybeth’s collarbone.
The Sergeant leaned back, not allowing Helena’s lips to touch her. “You want me, don’t you?”
Helena hissed out a sharp breath as she watched the tantalizing rise and fall of Marybeth’s breasts. “Very much.”
Marybeth grinned, teasing the pads of her fingers gently across Helena’s shoulders. “I know.” She circled Helena’s puckered nipples and avoided the rigid rosy peaks. “You don’t hide it very well.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” the Brit replied, arching her back into Marybeth’s touch, causing the other woman to pull her hands away.
Marybeth tsked her tongue and shook her head, grinning wickedly. “Oh no you don’t,” she replied. “Sit still or I’ll leave you here.”
Helena sighed and acquiesced, leaning against the back of the chair.
“Good girl,” Marybeth said. “Now watch.”
Helena was scarcely able to do anything else. She watched in rapt attention as her lover swirled her tongue around her index and middle fingers, coating them with moisture that she then brought between her legs. Marybeth sighed as she began to stroke herself, her hips rocking slowly against Helena’s thighs.
Helena swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as all moisture in her body headed south. Her eyes darted between the hand that was working Marybeth’s clit and the look of rapture on Marybeth’s face. She groaned and struggled against that cuffs that bound her to the chair.
Marybeth hummed in pleasure, her eyes focusing on Helena’s as she smirked seductively. “You wish you were touching me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Helena choked, her cheeks aflame.
“You’re jealous that my hand is the one fucking me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she sighed again, unable to stop herself from moaning when she caught sight of just how wet Marybeth’s fingers were.
“Good.” Marybeth’s head tipped back in wordless supplication as her fingers began to massage faster around her clit.
Helena could feel the moisture coat her own legs and could feel the tightening of her lover’s thighs that signaled her impending release. She clenched her legs together, aching for any sort of friction she could achieve to make her unbounded desire bearable. She bit her lip and watched, unable to speak, as Marybeth came, her body shuddering its hard, wet release.
When Marybeth’s convulsions ceased, she gave a breathless sigh and tilted her forehead against Helena’s. She shifted gently and brought her fingers to Helena’s mouth, holding them still while Helena’s tongue darted between parted lips and lapped at the arousal. She groaned, feeling overcome by her own desire.
“Did that turn you on?” Marybeth asked.
“God…yes…”
“Do you want me to uncuff you?”
“Please…”
“No,” Marybeth whispered as she stood.
Helena struggled against her confinement, grunting in frustration when she remained stuck in her chair. Her wrists were beginning to ache. She felt as though she’d lose her mind if she didn’t get off.
This love, this constant game of captive and captor, infuriated and excited Helena. She wanted to hate the police officer, wanted to lash out against her, wanted to be the one in control - but she always succumbed when Sergeant Duffy wanted her.
As harsh and cruel as Marybeth wanted to be, she always gave Helena what she needed. She knelt before her and parted Helena’s thighs and Helena knew that she would always give herself completely to the other woman. She’d allow herself to be shackled as long as she knew she’d be freed again.
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