Title: Applesauce, part two
Prompt: American Horror Story: Jude/Lana/Mary Eunice - cane
Requested By:
madampresidentRating: R
Word Count: 100
Summary: Double-fill technically, because this is a follow-up drabble to
Applesauce, part one: Sister Jude, Sister Mary Eunice, and Lana and the business end of Jude’s cane
“Safe words, like trust, are earned.” Jude said sternly.
“That’s not how safe words-” Lana yelped, Jude giving her a warning smack.
“I don’t know how you do things in your perverse little world, but we play by my rules here, don’t we sister?.” Jud caressed the swell of Mary Eunice’s ass. Affectionately, Lana thought, the irony wasn’t lost on her.
“Yes, sister.” Mary Eunice leaned into the touch.
Jude struck Lana hard with no warning. She struggled to hold back but winced, crying out. “Jesus Fucking Christ!”
Mary Eunice looked scandalized and Lana could stop from rolling her eyes.
**
Title: Once, Twice, Three Times
Prompt: American Horror Story: Jude/Mary Eunice - domination
Requested By:
madampresidentRating: R
Word Count: 100
Summary: Sister Mary Eunice is a glutton for punishment.
Jude slowly moved around Mary Eunice, admiring the round, supple posterior, marked by healing red welts from previous sessions. Mary Eunice bit her lip to stop herself from moaning.
“Are you wet, sister?” Jude husked.
“Yes, sister.”
“Lust is a sin, isn’t is it, sister?” Jude teased the wooden cane up the inside of Mary Eunice’s thighs. She could only nod for fear of her traitorous body coming at the mere thought.
Jude’s cane cracked across the backs of Mary Eunice’s thighs once, twice, three times. Mary Eunice squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a strangled cry as she came.
**
Title: In The Dark of the Night
Prompt: American Horror Story: Jude/Lana - bound
Requested By:
madampresidentRating: PG-13
Word Count: 100
Summary: Sometimes comfort comes from the unlikeliest of places.
Bound in the basement of a psychopath, no visible means of egress, Lana is struggling to keep calm. Relying on the mercy of a sadist seems to have become her reality, she thinks bitterly.
She conjures up an image of Sister Jude hovering over her, Lana’s extremities bound to the bed. Surprisingly, the image of Jude provides her some relief, some grounding.
Lana imagines Jude’s hand gently brushing the sweaty, matted hair out of her face, placing a chaste kiss to her forehead.
“I’ll stay with you.” Jude says, sitting on the edge of the dirty cot. “You can sleep.”