Bicker 9 END

Mar 23, 2010 09:49

Title: Bicker pt 9 Final Part

Author: Alsike

Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds x-over

Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss, Emily/Selene

Rating: NC-17

AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.

Word Count: 3649

Prompt: 030. Harness

Apologies: And more of the Princeton Eating Club AU! If you don't know what Eating Clubs are, think Hellfire Club for college students. Bicker is the system for picking new members to let into the club.

This is the last chapter of the plot, I have another random scene or two, but they're not actually part of the story.  Why does my pron always end up with a vastly complex plot?  It is done though.  I hope is is satisfying.  (I liked it!  And totally chose it over syntax and rugby.  Priorities anyone?  No, I have none.)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

Selene had left early that morning, smiling at Emily’s whimper as she tried to sit up without rolling onto the lashmarks left on her back and sides. “I do know other people on this campus, you know,” she said, when questioned, and sauntered out the door.

Emily had been getting dressed when Emma showed up, her visage stiff and unyielding. “I just need some of my books,” she snapped, on entering, and then froze as Emily hurriedly tried to pull down her shirt.

“What did she do to you?” Emma reached out, unthinkingly, her fingers brushing against a particularly pronounced welt.

“Nothing!” Emily hissed, flinching away from her touch.

“Nothing?” Emma stared at the marks, the ugly bruises marring her pale skin. “You never did that to me.”

Emily stared at her. “Are you jealous?”

Emma’s eyes widened and she jerked back. “Of course not!” She scowled. “I’m not a pain whore like you.”

Emily watched her for a moment, remembering digging her teeth into that pale smooth neck, fingers bleeding from being fucked against a stone wall. But she could never do this to anyone. She shook her head. “I’m sorry if I led you on, but you said it from the start. I’m a sub. And I can’t… I can’t change that.”

Emma looked at her, her eyes full of pain. “Fuck off and leave me alone,” she hissed, and ran.

But it couldn’t work quite like that. Emily lunged after her, catching her arm as she was disappearing through the door. Tears came to her eyes as the strain pulled at the sores on her back. “Emma.”

Emma stopped, looking back at her, trying to be fierce, and clearly needing to be anything but there.

“What are we going to do about initiations?”

Emma jerked her arm away, and for a moment (a strange unhappily hopeful moment) Emily thought she might say that she had changed her mind, that she didn’t want it, that she was going to just go. But she didn’t. “I’ll meet you there.” Her eyes narrowed. “Outside. You got a leash for the collar you gave me?”

Emily nodded. Emma acknowledged it, turned, and walked out, shoulders back, still impossibly proud. Emily sank inside, leaning her head against the doorframe, wishing the day had never come at all.

* * *

The bicker kids were hooting and hollering with the best of them as the legacies entered on their knees. They were in charge of thinking up rites and challenges, but luckily most hadn’t yet honed their skills of ritual humiliation as much as the upperclassmen had. There were girls kissing, some penis licking, a little bit of ass play that most of the new kids found so shocking that they could hardly stop talking about it.

Emma wasn’t involved, she lay lazily on the floor at Emily’s feet, leashed and collared, like an exotic jungle cat. A few of the upperclass boys had come over already, looking pleased. Emma would roll on her back if asked, and they would laughingly rub her belly, giving her looks that were so clearly later that Emily could hardly keep from vomiting up her revulsion.

She hated these parties. She hated the ways people laughed, the way they kept score, the way bodies were simply competition: which one’s bigger, which one can take more, which one can humiliate itself in the most amusing way.

And then she arrived, and everything was a hundred times worse.

“Am I here in time for the real party?” Selene grinned, and Emily felt Emma tense against her leg. McCoy welcomed her with a hug.

“Are you going to give these newbies something to write home about?” he asked with a laugh.

“Well, I would have had even more time to plan, but someone,” she glanced darkly at Emily, “didn’t even mention that initiations were tonight.”

Sebastian laughed loudly. “Uh oh. Does she have to be punished?”

Emily felt suddenly sick. The last time she had been punished in company she had been put on the cross for two hours, for flogging and fucking. She had thrown up all night after being let down, and hadn’t been able to walk the next day. They had called her ‘the party favor of the century’ for the next month and a half.

“I’m sure it was a mere oversight,” Selene said generously, far too generously for her. “But I’m worried there’s something else she needs to be punished for.”

Emily’s fingers clenched tightly around the leash and she almost stood up to defend herself.

“Oh really? McCoy asked, as if it were scripted.

And Selene walked over to her. She bent down to smile at Emma, who sat up, her shoulders tensed, and glared back. Selene patted her head condescendingly. “Well I heard about the challenge, about what this pretty little thing had to do to prove she was of quality to enter our inner sanctum.” Selene grinned. “Literally.” She wandered around to the side of the chair and caressed Emily’s cheek. “And how my little girl was the one charged with enforcing her submission.”

“It was rather ingenious,” said McCoy, vainly, but clearly amused by Selene’s game. He could be. He was out of the line of fire.

“But I don’t think she’s actually submissive.”

Emily’s eyes widened and she glanced toward Emma, horrified to meet her own frightened stare coming the other way.

“And my darling little girl told me that she thought that she had never actually made this… Emma do anything that she didn’t want to.”

“Oh?” McCoy inquired with a raised eyebrow. “That is serious indeed.”

“So I was thinking we should have a little test.”

“Selene-“ Emily tried to interject. Selene shot her a narrow ugly look.

“I’m not finished.”

Emily’s jaw snapped shut automatically.

Selene reached into her bag and produced a strap-on with harness. “I think,” she said, darkly. “That my little sub should prove it, by taking a certain virginity of the girl’s, in front of all of us.”

“Emma has a virginity left?” Seb snorted, amused. There were a few more peals of laughter, but Emma’s face made it obvious that Selene hadn’t been wrong, and that laughter was replaced by curiosity.

She looked awful, sick and afraid and unhappy, and Emily stood up, letting the cape fall around her, and she glared at Selene and McCoy. “No way!” she snapped, furious. “She doesn’t want to. I’m not going to rape her just because you think it would be funny.”

McCoy shrugged. “Fine. Then she doesn’t make it in. Being in this club is a privilege, not a right.”

“This is entirely unfair. She’s done everything you’ve asked, everything I’ve asked!” Emily stopped suddenly, glancing down to where Emma knelt in front of her. Emma had ducked her head and leaned forward, rubbing her hair against Emily’s hand.

Then she glanced up and met Emily’s eyes. Then she turned to the company. “I’ll do it,” she said. “Because she is my mistress, I will allow her anything.”

She glanced back. “Wait,” Emily started, bending down to her.

“You can do it. I trust you,” she said, in a whisper, determination and strain plain on her face.

“What if you hate it?” Emily whispered, crouching down to speak to her privately and face to face.

“Then I’ll cry and they’ll be satisfied anyways.” Emma pushed her. “Go. Let’s do this.”

Emily stood, nearly toppling backwards, but Selene caught her, and pressed the thick shaft of the dildo into her hand.

“It’s too big.”

Selene smiled viciously. “It’s what I took you with.”

Emily unhooked the leash and they draped Emma over the horse.

“Don’t strap her in,” Emily instructed. She didn’t want her to be bound; she wanted her to be able to get out of it if she had to. Emma clung to the handles, legs spread, perfect ass propped up at just the right height.

There was a ripple of shock through the watchers as Emily let her cape drop to the ground, revealing the marks that laced up her back. Selene ran possessive fingers over them, and buckled the harness around her hips. Teasingly, she ground the cock into her, finding just the right place for it to trigger the piercing to send shocks inside her.

Emily tipped her head back, gasping a little, but doing her best to control her reaction. This was far too serious to worry about her own arousal. Selene slipped away and she leaned over Emma’s back, whispering in her ear. “Are you sure?”

“You’ve been wanting to do this for weeks. Get over your savior complex and do it.”

“Just relax. If it hurts too much-“

“Shut up!”

Emily kissed her shoulder blade as she pulled up and caught the tube of lubricant that Sebastian tossed her. She slicked her forefinger and stared for a moment, and then pushed it in, up to her first joint. Emma gasped. She moved it in a tight circle, and Emma let out a shudder of discomfort, her knuckles whitening where she clenched the handles.

It was a beautiful sound, and Emily wished that she wasn’t so turned on by this. She shouldn’t be. She couldn’t let that distract her. But she moved her finger in and out, loosening it up, then sending it deeper, to the second knuckle, then all the way to the third. Emma was whimpering, but she knew that sound, from rimming her in the 1879 archway. It wasn’t a bad sign, not yet. She added a second finger, stretching her still more. She had to get her to relax and open up, because the strap-on was thick and molded, not too long but plenty of trouble to get in.

And she was tight, really tight, around her fingers, and Emily just really wanted to bend down and get her mouth involved but this wasn’t about her, and making her make more of those sounds wasn’t the point. Slicked with lube, she pushed in a third, stretching from the inside, and Emma made a sound like a dry heave, and Emily nearly pulled out right then, but her hips rolled, pushing back, and Emily’s other hand, cupping her ass lightly to keep it steady, slipped and slid between her legs, and she was dripping, and Emily choked.

“Get moving,” someone catcalled, and Emma’s hips jerked again, as if adding extra emphasis to the command, and Emily sheathed the strap-on and slicked it up with lube. She pressed it down, leaning in and letting it slide between her folds, and Emma moved against it, a tight little sweet sound emerging from her chest. Emily breathed tightly, still staying in control, and took hold of the shaft, aiming, guiltily at the tender-looking little entrance, and pressed the head against it. Emma gave a rough gasp, and Emily couldn’t handle waiting any longer, imagining any more horrible ways this could go wrong, and with a short sharp thrust of her hips, felt the head force through the sphincter muscles and slide home.

There was a cheer, and Emily knew she was slick and hot, the base of the cock pressing insistently against her pierced clit, and Emma was groaning, her skin slick with sweat, making her scrabble to stay on the shiny leather horse, pulling against the handles. And Emily leaned over her, breathing in the scent of her hair, and sliding her fingers around Emma’s where it curled around the bar. Her other hand tucked up under Emma’s hip, lifting her slightly, and then she started to fuck her. It was just shallow thrusts, as gently as she could, yet each one forcing a gasp out of Emma that sent a white hot thrill racing out through Emily’s clit and filling her whole body.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” Emma hissed, too overwhelmed to be anything but honest. “More.”

Emily kept fucking her, sliding her hand around to feel between her legs, rubbing circles over her cunt. She pressed her mouth to Emma’s shoulder, kissing it and then biting when that wasn’t enough.

“God, I love the sounds you make. I want to hear you scream.” And she thrust and pressed and bit down on Emma’s ear all at once, and Emma came, bucking up into her, grinding it into her, and Emily’s knees nearly gave out. She gave a sound, halfway between a sob and a shriek, and soaked Emily’s hand. Gasping for air, Emily waited until she could control it, and she slowly pulled out. Emma’s bruised channel clung to the cock, making it sting, and leaving her empty and plowed out, and she cried.

* * *

Emma hung over the horse, limp and broken. She hadn’t come like that, ever. Emily shoving the cock in and out of her, breathing hot dirty words into her ear, biting it. It had felt like nothing else, the strangeness of it, the way it had only been with Emily, being able to let go and be afraid and not have to find a way to control it, not have to do anything but let it happen to her. She couldn’t even bring herself to be ashamed of the tears dripping down her face.

She didn’t hear the clapping and cheering, or the sudden argument that broke out over whose turn was next. Hands clasped her hips, lifting her up as they repositioned the horse under her. The bonds were buckled around her wrists and ankles, her wrists winched up until she hung in them, to weak to try to hold herself up. A hand slid roughly between her legs, parting her from behind, and a thick cock slid into her pussy. She groaned at it coming into her overheated passage, pulling at her sore ass. She spared a glance back. It was Scott, a focused expression on his face, caring about nothing but his own dick. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

She turned her head back, sagging against the straps and inadvertently met wide dark limpid eyes. Emily was looking at her from where she had been tugged away over to the twisting bookcase that held the floggers. Selene had her wrapped up in her arms, her fingers tucked under the half unfastened strap-on, teasing her for letting it turn her on so much. Selene shoved her to her knees, standing over her, pushing her crotch into her face.

“Get on all fours,” she heard Selene hiss. “I want to see you take it from both ends. I want you to remember what I can make you do.”

But Emily wasn’t even listening to her. She was just staring at Emma, her eyes hard, as if trying to speak with her telepathically.

The man fucking her from behind humped erratically. Emma flinched as she was driven against one of the unpadded parts of the horse.

“Don’t come.” It was lip-reading. Emily barely mouthed it. She knew what she meant even without the rest of it. “If you want me you don’t come for anyone but me.”

And Emma gasped, just the thought finally turning her on, as Scott thrust into her again and again. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek and tasted blood in her mouth.

Emily was on her hands and knees. Selene had removed the strap on and was teasing her lips with it, wanting her to suck it. “I want you to lick all the new girls, and take all the new boys,” she was whispering in Emily’s ear. “I want them all to know that they can ride down on you whenever they want. I want you to be covered in come and spunk and blood by the end of tonight. You had your little top fest, now its back to the reality, and in reality, you’re mine.”

The boy behind her was probing at her ass, giving his cock a few jacks to get it up. Selene slid the dildo in, no resistance, Emily tipping her head back to let it slide down her throat, and Emma nodded, just a short twitch of her head. Emily choked, shoving Selene’s hand away, and pulling the cock out again. Emily scrambled to her feet, coughing and wiping her mouth.

“Get down!” Selene was up, stepping towards her. Emily gave her a sharp push, surprising her, making her drop the dildo onto the floor. To the boy behind her, about to enter her ass, she gave another shove, making him topple over. Then Selene was back, forcing her into the wall, hand on her throat.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I don’t want this! I don’t want you anymore!” Emily screamed it and nearly the whole room froze, even Scott paused in fucking Emma, half in half out. Emily grabbed her shoulder and pushed her away, shoving past her. “I don’t like topping! But I like it a hundred times more than being your bitch! I hate the way you use me to hurt people! And I hate these parties!”

And she was in front of Emma, she caught her by the hair, jerking her head back. “And you…” Her eyes said the same thing her lips had before, but it was so much fucking harder to not come right there with her dominating her like that. Emma clenched her fingers and bit on her own lip, aching, and Scott sped up, finally finding a rhythm and fucking her just how she needed it, but she couldn’t come, she wouldn’t. And then he did, finally, and pulled out, and Emma sank against her bonds, desperately grateful, and still holding on. Emily pulled her up by the hair, to kiss her roughly.

She stepped into her, breasts and hips rubbing against each other. Emma whimpered, pressing against her. Emily’s hand slid over the horse and between her legs, the fingers tucked in, heel pressing against her, and she came, easily, grinding against it.

Emma knew she was slobbering all over her shoulder, but couldn’t care, and Emily wasn’t pushing her off. She held her body close, fingers still tangled in her hair, and unbuckled the straps on her wrists and ankles. When she could stand on her own, Emily let her go and stepped away. She looked at her, then paused, and reached out, straightening her hair.

“You don’t need to bottom anymore. You passed.” She said seriously. Emma watched her, not able to understand this, not why she was leaving her alone again. Emily shook her head in resignation, sighing. “Don’t make me have broken you.”

Emma denied it weakly, knowing it was a lie.

She glanced around at the people watching. Some seemed angry, others were gaping. The new members as a whole looked uncomfortable and ashamed. They were the only ones who had no reason to. “I’m going,” she said more loudly. “You know I can’t stand fun.”

And she walked out. Selene cursed and gave Emma a particularly threatening glare before following. Emma stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“She’s right, you know,” said Jeannie, coming up and placing her hand on the back of Emma’s arm. “You passed. Congratulations. You’re one of us now.”

* * *

Emily rolled over in bed, cold and unable to sleep. Selene had caught her up and she had screamed at her to leave her alone. Selene had threatened her with everything she had, her parents, her reputation, but Emily couldn’t care anymore. There were some things she couldn’t sacrifice. And when Emma had looked up at her, clearly worried, but steady and determined and said, even after all the rejections she had put her through, “You can do it. I trust you,” well that had been it. Emma trusted her, no matter how little she deserved it, and she couldn’t betray that. She knew, right then, that she had never felt that way about Selene. She had trusted, over and over again, that it couldn’t be as bad as it seemed, that if it was happening to her it must be normal, it must be pleasurable, it must be fine, even when she was bleeding in McCosh and having the nurses give her that worried look and the ‘are you sure you’re not in an abusive relationship’ catechism.

She just hoped that she was right about Emma, that she really wouldn’t let people walk all over her to attain those fleeting useless goals. It wasn’t as if she had any reason to believe it though. Emma had let her, had let her do anything, hadn’t she?

Emily closed her eyes, trying desperately to find some sleep. Tomorrow was Monday, Monday meant class, and everything would go back to the way it had been before, before Bicker, before her life had turned upside down. Her parents would probably be angry, she thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She just waited, listening.

She heard the click of the handle turning, the door opening, and after a long moment of silence she let herself turn and look.

Emma was standing in her doorway, damp and clean, a towel draped around her neck.

Emily lay still, not understanding this. “You know you don’t have to keep doing this,” she managed to say. “You’re free to go.”

Emma nodded. “I know.”

She closed the door behind her, locking it, and started to strip off. Emily sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees, and watched her skin glow in the moonlight. “You… want to stay on my futon?”

“No.” Emma pushed her over and crawled into bed with her. Emily’s eyes widened. “I want to stay with you,” she whispered, curling into her. “Just you.”

Emily lay back down. Her fingers trailed in Emma’s hair as she let the younger girl rest her head on her shoulder. “All right,” she said softly. “If that’s what you want.”


criminal minds, nc-17, x-men, citrus taste, emma/emily

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