Fic: Not For You [Morgause/Merlin - R - 900]
Title: Not For You
Author: joan_waterhouse
Beta: lolafeist
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Morgause/Merlin, (hints of background Merlin/Arthur)
Rating: R
Warnings: bondage, non-con (depending on your own definition it might still be dub-con)
Word Count: ~ 900
Summary: Morgause found him like she'd left him; bound, on his knees in the middle of the clearing.
A/N: Written for marguerite_26's one plot, many pairings 2, it's also my entry for riventhorn's Bondage and Slavery Fic Fest. Both took place months ago and I'm sincerely sorry for being so incredibly slow. :/
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement intended.
Not For You
The sun had almost set by now. Morgause found him like she'd left him; bound, on his knees in the middle of the clearing. Merlin was shivering. She supposed it wasn't because of fear or anger but rather because of the chilly evening breeze.
She stopped half hidden behind a tree and unsheathed her knife, wrapped her fingers around the wooden handle, and turned the blade this way and that. The last weak beams of sunlight shone through the tops of the trees. She let the light reflect off the blade in a little spot that danced along the leaf-covered ground. She directed it to climb up the servant boy's thighs and chest, illuminate his luscious lips for a moment before she finally let the light blind him.
He startled, reeled around, found her and looked straight into her eyes. Bold, piercing, dangerous.
She knew then that it had been the right decision to come back. A couple hours ago leaving him to be eaten by giant Serkets had seemed like a sufficiently wicked way to dispose of him - but now it would be so much more enjoyable to kill him with her own hands, to squeeze the last bit of air from his lungs, to paint his pale skin red with his own ruby blood.
With a smile on her lips she directed the last ray of sunlight to dance along his neck, right above his neckerchief, where his blood ran closer to his skin, where it would be so deliciously easy to make the blade cut right through until red spilled all over, until his breath dissolved into a stifled moan, perfect surrender poised on the edge of pain and desire.
Like a hunter's her heart beat faster, her blood ran hotter, her breath came shorter, her mind focused on this narrow target. She shifted her stance. The leaves crumbled and crackled under her step as loud as a dragon's roar. Slowly she made her way to where he kneeled, the rub of her rough trousers between her thighs a tiny promise of release.
With his lips parted, he just kneeled and waited, couldn't do much more than that with the chain wrapped so tightly around him. But still there was something defiant in the way he looked at her. When she touched the tip of her finger to his lips, he closed his eyes. She followed his soft retreating tongue, let his teeth scrape over the leather of her glove. How much before he'd bite?
Morgause inhaled a surprised breath when he closed his lips around her finger and sucked gently before he quickly released it with a gasp.
There was the tiniest of movements, just barely enough to catch her attention; he'd shifted his hands. But he hadn't moved them enough to cover what he was obviously intent to cover.
"No," he said, "this is not -"
But why not? Why not take this as well, when she was already going to take his life?
With the tip of her knife she re-traced the path she'd earlier let the sunlight wander. The blade scratched against the stubble on his chin, slid lower over his collarbones, his chest and down, down, down. All the while she mumbled words of the Old Religion. Wherever the knife passed the rough fabric of Merlin's shabby clothes fell away as if rotten. The tight, silvery chain that bound him stayed in place, kept him kneeling, kept his hands fastened to the sides of his thighs.
"Don't be afraid," she said and finger by finger she plucked loose her leather gloves with her teeth. She undid the laces of her trousers, kicked off one boot to step out off one trouser leg.
He looked so invitingly beautiful with his lips parted slack and moist, his interest so apparent. But his eyes stayed closed. "Shh," she whispered soothingly into his ear as she straddled him, slid down and took him in. So hot and firm and perfect. Her moan almost covered the name he cried, but she'd heard it anyway. She couldn't help but laugh.
"Your prince won't help you now, silly boy."
And he hardly needed help the way he pushed up into her again and again, with a desperation and force that made her tremble. Morgause took hold of the chains for leverage and slid one hand between her legs, pushed back down against him, against her own fingers, harder and harder with every beat of her heart. He pressed his face against her pauldron, moved closer and closer still, kept mumbling things and showering the cold metal of her mail with ridiculous open mouthed kisses.
She came with her teeth buried in his neck, bruising his back with the chain she was clinging to. He followed moments later, calling out that name again. This time she didn't think it was for help.
He sunk down to lay on his side then; exhausted, maybe sated, maybe shocked - it was hard to tell - he was staring into the distance. The chains binding his body shimmered silver as moonlight on his pale skin.
Morgause carefully put on her gloves. She mumbled a spell and his youthful body was clothed once more. Killing him could wait for just a little while longer.
* end *
Author: joan_waterhouse
Beta: lolafeist
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Morgause/Merlin, (hints of background Merlin/Arthur)
Rating: R
Warnings: bondage, non-con (depending on your own definition it might still be dub-con)
Word Count: ~ 900
Summary: Morgause found him like she'd left him; bound, on his knees in the middle of the clearing.
A/N: Written for marguerite_26's one plot, many pairings 2, it's also my entry for riventhorn's Bondage and Slavery Fic Fest. Both took place months ago and I'm sincerely sorry for being so incredibly slow. :/
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement intended.
Not For You
The sun had almost set by now. Morgause found him like she'd left him; bound, on his knees in the middle of the clearing. Merlin was shivering. She supposed it wasn't because of fear or anger but rather because of the chilly evening breeze.
She stopped half hidden behind a tree and unsheathed her knife, wrapped her fingers around the wooden handle, and turned the blade this way and that. The last weak beams of sunlight shone through the tops of the trees. She let the light reflect off the blade in a little spot that danced along the leaf-covered ground. She directed it to climb up the servant boy's thighs and chest, illuminate his luscious lips for a moment before she finally let the light blind him.
He startled, reeled around, found her and looked straight into her eyes. Bold, piercing, dangerous.
She knew then that it had been the right decision to come back. A couple hours ago leaving him to be eaten by giant Serkets had seemed like a sufficiently wicked way to dispose of him - but now it would be so much more enjoyable to kill him with her own hands, to squeeze the last bit of air from his lungs, to paint his pale skin red with his own ruby blood.
With a smile on her lips she directed the last ray of sunlight to dance along his neck, right above his neckerchief, where his blood ran closer to his skin, where it would be so deliciously easy to make the blade cut right through until red spilled all over, until his breath dissolved into a stifled moan, perfect surrender poised on the edge of pain and desire.
Like a hunter's her heart beat faster, her blood ran hotter, her breath came shorter, her mind focused on this narrow target. She shifted her stance. The leaves crumbled and crackled under her step as loud as a dragon's roar. Slowly she made her way to where he kneeled, the rub of her rough trousers between her thighs a tiny promise of release.
With his lips parted, he just kneeled and waited, couldn't do much more than that with the chain wrapped so tightly around him. But still there was something defiant in the way he looked at her. When she touched the tip of her finger to his lips, he closed his eyes. She followed his soft retreating tongue, let his teeth scrape over the leather of her glove. How much before he'd bite?
Morgause inhaled a surprised breath when he closed his lips around her finger and sucked gently before he quickly released it with a gasp.
There was the tiniest of movements, just barely enough to catch her attention; he'd shifted his hands. But he hadn't moved them enough to cover what he was obviously intent to cover.
"No," he said, "this is not -"
But why not? Why not take this as well, when she was already going to take his life?
With the tip of her knife she re-traced the path she'd earlier let the sunlight wander. The blade scratched against the stubble on his chin, slid lower over his collarbones, his chest and down, down, down. All the while she mumbled words of the Old Religion. Wherever the knife passed the rough fabric of Merlin's shabby clothes fell away as if rotten. The tight, silvery chain that bound him stayed in place, kept him kneeling, kept his hands fastened to the sides of his thighs.
"Don't be afraid," she said and finger by finger she plucked loose her leather gloves with her teeth. She undid the laces of her trousers, kicked off one boot to step out off one trouser leg.
He looked so invitingly beautiful with his lips parted slack and moist, his interest so apparent. But his eyes stayed closed. "Shh," she whispered soothingly into his ear as she straddled him, slid down and took him in. So hot and firm and perfect. Her moan almost covered the name he cried, but she'd heard it anyway. She couldn't help but laugh.
"Your prince won't help you now, silly boy."
And he hardly needed help the way he pushed up into her again and again, with a desperation and force that made her tremble. Morgause took hold of the chains for leverage and slid one hand between her legs, pushed back down against him, against her own fingers, harder and harder with every beat of her heart. He pressed his face against her pauldron, moved closer and closer still, kept mumbling things and showering the cold metal of her mail with ridiculous open mouthed kisses.
She came with her teeth buried in his neck, bruising his back with the chain she was clinging to. He followed moments later, calling out that name again. This time she didn't think it was for help.
He sunk down to lay on his side then; exhausted, maybe sated, maybe shocked - it was hard to tell - he was staring into the distance. The chains binding his body shimmered silver as moonlight on his pale skin.
Morgause carefully put on her gloves. She mumbled a spell and his youthful body was clothed once more. Killing him could wait for just a little while longer.
* end *