I shall steal Little Red's prompt up there. ELIZABETH'S PERSONAL ITEM: Sparkly handcuffs. Truefax. (Pg13ish? No straight-out smut) -=- "Your personal item was sparkly pink handcuffs."
Elizabeth looked up from where she was fastening John's ankle to the post with a last knot in the (useful, run-through and now-sacrificed) pantyhose. "They're perfectly useful items--even with the fluffy pink fur and sparkles."
Twisting a little, John looked over his shoulder at his hands and wrists. The cuffs rattled slightly against the bars of the headboard. "Those wouldn't hold a marine."
Mouth firming in an attempt not to smile in amusement, she raised her eyebrows as she began to pull her shirt off. "You think not?"
"Of course not." He rattled harder, "Just a little strength--"
The rattling increased while she folded her shirt over the chair next to the bed then unbuckled her belt. "That's what the last one said," she mused, draping the belt over the shirt and bending over to start on her boots. Regulation ties and John's suggested triple-knots took her a little more time than she'd thought.
"Huh." The bed thumped a little as John relaxed and dropped his head to the pillow. "What last one?"
With a grunt, Elizabeth yanked off one boot. "Do you think the Mandarians will object to the treaty after our participation in their rite?"
That was, after all, the reason she'd dug out her handcuffs (John's equipment had been confiscated not long after they'd left the area of the gate--something to do with him being a member of the military and not as trust-worthy), and then tied John (naked; she wasn't thinking about that, yet, though it was definitely at the back of her mind, coloring all of the other things she was trying to think about) to the bed.
"Is that what you're thinking about?" He sounded suspicious as he raised his head to look at her.
She admired the flush that slid over his face as he took in her half-sort-of-nakedness, preening just a little. I did that-- Then she dragged her thoughts back to the treaty, the technology, the Wraith (well, there was some cold water to the libido). She shrugged, watching John's eyes follow the movements before she pulled off her bra. "Aren't you?"
"Uh, no." The look he gave her was a mixture of disbelief, amusement, and passion.
Her fingers tangled in the bra straps as she tried to straighten it and lay it on the chair. "Well, you should be." She pushed her trousers and underwear down together and shook the pants to straighten the legs before laying them over the chair as well.
"Think I'll concentrate on something else."
Biting her lip, Elizabeth drew in a breath and met his gaze, letting her own tell him exactly what she thought of him lying there, spread and naked, cock half-hard already. "Maybe that would be for the best."
"Yeah. Elizabeth? Come here."
It was a ridiculously long walk to the bed, and yet not long enough.
When she kissed him, she knew it was more than worth it--even with the handcuffs and the people watching from the galleries and how he wasn't quite sure of her (nor she of him) until they were soaked in sweat and coming down from their not-quite-mutual orgasms.
(Pg13ish? No straight-out smut)
-=-
"Your personal item was sparkly pink handcuffs."
Elizabeth looked up from where she was fastening John's ankle to the post with a last knot in the (useful, run-through and now-sacrificed) pantyhose. "They're perfectly useful items--even with the fluffy pink fur and sparkles."
Twisting a little, John looked over his shoulder at his hands and wrists. The cuffs rattled slightly against the bars of the headboard. "Those wouldn't hold a marine."
Mouth firming in an attempt not to smile in amusement, she raised her eyebrows as she began to pull her shirt off. "You think not?"
"Of course not." He rattled harder, "Just a little strength--"
The rattling increased while she folded her shirt over the chair next to the bed then unbuckled her belt. "That's what the last one said," she mused, draping the belt over the shirt and bending over to start on her boots. Regulation ties and John's suggested triple-knots took her a little more time than she'd thought.
"Huh." The bed thumped a little as John relaxed and dropped his head to the pillow. "What last one?"
With a grunt, Elizabeth yanked off one boot. "Do you think the Mandarians will object to the treaty after our participation in their rite?"
That was, after all, the reason she'd dug out her handcuffs (John's equipment had been confiscated not long after they'd left the area of the gate--something to do with him being a member of the military and not as trust-worthy), and then tied John (naked; she wasn't thinking about that, yet, though it was definitely at the back of her mind, coloring all of the other things she was trying to think about) to the bed.
"Is that what you're thinking about?" He sounded suspicious as he raised his head to look at her.
She admired the flush that slid over his face as he took in her half-sort-of-nakedness, preening just a little. I did that-- Then she dragged her thoughts back to the treaty, the technology, the Wraith (well, there was some cold water to the libido). She shrugged, watching John's eyes follow the movements before she pulled off her bra. "Aren't you?"
"Uh, no." The look he gave her was a mixture of disbelief, amusement, and passion.
Her fingers tangled in the bra straps as she tried to straighten it and lay it on the chair. "Well, you should be." She pushed her trousers and underwear down together and shook the pants to straighten the legs before laying them over the chair as well.
"Think I'll concentrate on something else."
Biting her lip, Elizabeth drew in a breath and met his gaze, letting her own tell him exactly what she thought of him lying there, spread and naked, cock half-hard already. "Maybe that would be for the best."
"Yeah. Elizabeth? Come here."
It was a ridiculously long walk to the bed, and yet not long enough.
When she kissed him, she knew it was more than worth it--even with the handcuffs and the people watching from the galleries and how he wasn't quite sure of her (nor she of him) until they were soaked in sweat and coming down from their not-quite-mutual orgasms.
They got their treaty.
Reply
Reply
Reply
... "Aren't you?"
!!!!!! This is the greatest ever. Treaty sex is totally this year's sex pollen for best reason ever. Lyssie, you're always the best!!
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment