Summary: Imagine being a ballerina and dating Joan Ferguson, shes obessed with your perfection, the music you dance to calms her down, and it all makes her feel real.
a/n: omg this is my first Joan fic, kinda nervous. PLZ let me know your thoughts! As usual requests are always open and comment to be on the taglist for Joan! Another Joan fic is already in the works as well hehe
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The only sounds in the auditorium was the echoing patter of your feet hitting the ground, the points sharp and fast as you moved swiftly. Cool air brushed your skin with every turn and leap that you took. Your body contorted under full control of your mind, you commanded every muscle to perform a certain way.
All this to achieve excellence. You needed the discipline if you were ever going to be anything important. So you worked day and night here under the burning lights.
A few weeks back you had heard of girls practicing without music, to learn the movements before stressing about the timing. You had picked this up and seemed to enjoy it, allowing your muscles to learn the patterns and memorize them. However, your neck twitched every time you reached the climax of your most recent routine, one you were creating for your performance. It was beginning to frustrate you. It made no sense why you were unable to focus and execute this section.
It was a simple pattern you had choreographed yourself. You knew all the motions like an instinct, but every time you would fold your body into a spin, unfolding into a grand jeté, your neck would twitch and your balance would falter, causing you to stumble.
As you started up again you sniffled, the stuffy atmosphere getting to you along with the light sheen of sweat prickling at your forehead from the hours you’d spent under the bright lights covering you.
You started beautifully, as if you could hear your queue. Strategic toes moved on pointe around the stage, your legs straight as you turned. The music seemed to fill your senses, despite it not playing nearby, your mind made it up and allowed it to drown out the true silence.
You almost wanted to close your eyes, to feel the music and imagine it was here with you. Imagine it was guiding your feet and leading you across the stage. One foot sliding past the other as you spun, your feet picking up to reach the booming peak of the routine.
Just then, it happened again. You leaped up, turned your head, and then felt the twitch in your neck, throwing you off kilter ever so slightly, causing you to fall to the ground in defeat.
You let out a huff with a fist to the stage, pausing for a moment as you took in a deep breath and began to strip off your pointe shoes with fury.
Suddenly you heard the shuffle of feet in the front seats and turned your head to look. The figure moved around the lights as you held a hand up to block them and you were able to see her now.
“What happened there?” she asked simply and you sighed.
“I don’t know. I keep getting, distracted...” you stopped as the forbidden word left your lips and you looked to Joan with a hesitant gaze. She tilted her head up ever so slightly with a smirk and you bit your tongue.
“My neck, it keeps twitching at that part.” You said and she nodded. Her hands were held behind her back as she walked closer to the stage, still in her work uniform with her hair in a low pony.
“It can be hard to work through distractions, but it’s something you must do if you want to have full control over yourself.” she stated and you nodded quickly.
“I know. And I do- it’s just this one part.” You stated with a dry frustration but she just stared at you. Her gaze was stiff but calculated and you squirmed beneath it.
“Might I suggest actually listening to the piece while you practice?” She said cleanly with a light hum, though you were unsure if she was being sarcastic or not.
“I’m done for today, but yeah, tomorrow I will.” You said and she nodded, her eyes raking over your frame as you stood and grabbed your bag, walking off the stage to meet the woman in the aisle.
“How was work?” you asked as her arm instinctively curved around your waist. You could feel her tense beside you and you frowned, knowing this meant it was not going to be a pleasant answer.
“These next few days will be quite busy.” She muttered as you walked down the long halls of the arts center.
“Will you still be able to make it to my performance?” you asked and she didn’t say anything for a moment. Her silence saddened you and you stopped, looking at her as she took a few steps before noticing your lack of presence under her arm.
She turned slowly to face you, her expression neutral and unmoving.
“Joan, you’ll be there right?” you said as you took a step towards her and she smiled.
“I will try my best.” She stated simply and you felt your chest tense and your heart sink. You opened your lips to protest, but when your eyes met her clearly exhausted ones, you decided once more to keep your own counsel.
“I understand. I'll save you a front row seat just in case.” You shrugged and her eyes softened.
“Thank you darling, I know this is rather last minute, and rude of me.” Her words were sweet and she raised her large hands to cup your cheeks, your eyes flicking between hers to search for any signs of dishonesty.
“Just know I will make it up to you regardless.” She hummed and you nodded in understanding, her lips moving to yours to place a tender and loving kiss to them.
With the showcase in a few days you were squeezing in practice whenever you could. So when your boss let you off work early you ran home to change. Slipping on your sweats with your ballet tote in hand, you headed for the door. Except right as you reached for it, the wood nearly opened into your face and you stepped back. The shocked expression quickly faded when you saw who it was.
The tall woman looked down in confusion, just as shocked to see you as you were her.
“Hello my darling. What are you doing here so early?” she asked with a more rattled voice than normal.
“Hey, I got off work early. I was going to go practice.” you answered, your hand coming to rest on her arm. That action typically told the woman you were coaxing her to lean down for a kiss, your chin tilting up instinctively, yet she seemed distracted and just nodded curtly.
“Alrighty then, I will see you later tonight.” She said before walking past you towards her office. You stared in confusion and stammered out a protest.
“Woah wait- why are you home in the middle of the afternoon?” you questioned, following her to her office. She didn’t stop, nor spare you a glance before she began rummaging around in her desk.
“I needed to grab something.” She said in her low voice and you watched as she searched frantically.
“What is it? Can I help you find it?” you asked and she shook her head.
“No darling, go practice. I’ll see you tonight.” She stated and you hummed your lips into a flat line.
“Fine. Will I see you for dinner?” You questioned and she sighed before looking up at you harshly.
“I told you I would have to stay late this week, so no I will not be here for dinner.” She said with a slight annoyance and you nodded.
“Got it. See you later.” you said in a clear defiant tone but she just turned back to her desk and searched around.
The local auditorium was particularly cold and quiet when you arrived, it was a smaller stage than your recital would be taking place so there was an eerie atmosphere you couldn’t seem to shake.
As you warmed up your mind kept running with thoughts of your partner. Wondering if she was really going to miss your recital for whatever typical work nonsense she dealt with. The love you had for the woman was enough to keep your faith in her, shoving down any gut feelings of doubt.
Even though you knew it made no difference to the woman, in an annoyed state you refused to play the music. You danced to the quiet and imagined the song in your head, hoping it would all click together.
Repeatedly your knees hit the hard stage flooring, a grunt leaving your hips as you stood to try the routine again. Over and over again your feet left the ground, your neck stung sharply, and you’d fall.
After the tenth or so try you took a break and stood in the middle of the stage, eyes closed, taking deep breaths. You played the piece in your mind and focused, calming your thoughts and bringing control to your body.
A long, deep breath was brought in and you attempted the jump on its own, when you landed on your feet you realized your eyes had been closed and you smiled to yourself. You did it again and once more your toes met the solid ground without faltering.
“Fucking finally!” you muttered frustratedly but respectfully in the empty but public space.
Then your high quickly came back down when you wound up for the whole routine. Starting effortlessly, a large naive grin on your face as you danced gracefully.
Once again, as you turned your head with the leap, the muscle in your neck pulled, straining harder this time and you fell to the ground with a small grunt.
You laid there for a moment catching your breath and staring up at the blinding lights. Your head tilted to the sideways clock and you squinted, it was nearly time for dinner. Then you recalled Joan wasn’t even going to be home.
So you stayed, for hours you worked in the silence til you were deaf, unable to hear the knocks of your pointe shoes stomping the floor and echoing around you.
Your phone never went off, and you never bothered checking it. It wasn’t until the custodian kicked you out that you finally dug for your car keys and took a peek at the time.
Nearing midnight was nothing compared to how you used to train in college, so you just sighed and drove home. There was an uncomfortable tension held in your shoulders from the lack of improvement and it unsettled you.
Fear was also present. You were afraid she would smell the defeat on you. She would see how mundane you’d become, how you’d lost control of yourself and was failing to grab ahold again.
The house was silent when you arrived, all the lights off aside from a lamp in the kitchen. You walked to turn it off, your slides soft on the wood. An empty glass was in the sink and you knew it meant she had a few drinks before bed, or right when she got home.
When you finished getting ready in the guest bath so as to not disturb her, you tiptoed gingerly to your bedroom. Luckily the door was open as usual, something you always found fascinating about the woman was how comfortable she was with being vulnerable in the oddest of times.
With a gentle pinch you grabbed the sheets and pulled them back, slipping into the silky fabrics with ease as you attempted to get comfortable without too much movement.
Her back was to you and you looked over her frame longingly. Suddenly you found yourself flinching at the low rumble of her tired voice.
“It’s late, I hope you solved your little control issue.” she stated and you scoffed, rolling over and facing away from her as well. You squeezed your eyes shut and forced yourself to sleep without saying a word.
It was the last day you had to practice. So after hours of training and losing track of time once again, you finally decided to turn the music on.
The sounds of Danse Macabre faded into the auditorium and you started up naturally. Your legs straightened and you moved on your toes elegantly.
As it played you quickly fell into the sounds, your feet matching perfectly with the instruments. You felt lighter with the sounds playing in the back. It was as if everything was complete now.
Confidence swelled in your chest and you felt the high approach once again. Your stomach twisting in the air as you grew hopeful, eyes shutting in belief. It felt like you were flying, your feet gently pushing off the ground with a powerful jump as your legs flew up and split mid air.
A frustrated shout left your lips when your knees met the ground instead of your feet. The loud strings surrounding you muffled your yell and you allowed your elbows to rest on your knees as you dropped your head between them.
The music cut off and a voice cut through the silence instantly.
“So the music isn’t the problem.” She said obnoxiously and your head looked up.
“What are you doing here?” you asked and she tilted her head slightly at the rare harshness in your tone. You noticed she was once again in her uniform, only now her hair was completely undone, flowing gracefully around her face and it was hard to not stare.
“Have you checked the time?” she said in a sharper tone after hearing your rude inquiry.
You moved to grab your phone, noticing it was nearing midnight. You turned and shrugged.
“Yeah so?” you snarked and she didn’t change her expression, just held her strong gaze.
“You know I admire your dedication, but what good is the strain on your body if you haven’t mastered it.” She said simply and you felt your teeth grit together.
“I just need more time.” You stated and she tutted, walking closer to the stage and eventually up the side steps.
You backed away, not used to her joining you on the platform. She came to stand over you, her eyes scowling into yours with a rigid intensity. Her body leaned closer, the one tell of manipulation you had picked up on the woman.
“Do it again. And don’t mess up.” She ordered and your brows pushed together. She backed away, grabbing the speakers remote and pressing play.
You hesitated before getting into position, your eyes falling on hers in fear. She had seen you perform a million times before, but for some reason your legs felt like jelly and your breath was turning to rock in your lungs at this moment.
“Don’t look at me. Focus on you.” She stated and you nodded, snapping your head forward with docility that stemmed from years of ballet teachers barking orders.
The beginning was perfect. You were flawless, your gaze narrow as you danced in front of the judgmental woman.
Whenever you performed for Joan it fired off both sides of her brain. She watched you with admiration and lust, but also intellectual intrigue. She saw it as something to evaluate and enhance, calculating ways you can improve. She also saw how powerful you were on stage, how you controlled and contorted your body with a refined discipline that made the jaded woman’s cheeks flush.
Then came the dreaded part of the dance, only this time instead of falling, you stopped before your feet even left the ground. You shook your head, the feeling of her eyes on you causing too much pressure on your chest.
Suddenly the doors opened and the same custodian as before waddled in.
“We are closing sorry.” he muttered and Joan spoke up quickly.
“Come back in thirty minutes.” She ordered the strange older gentleman without looking his way, and he just shrugged and walked out of the hall.
“There. Now do it again.” She said firmly and you shook your head.
“I can’t. I’m fucking over it. I’m just going to cut it, replace it with something else.” you stormed over to your bags to mindlessly dig around.
“Come stand here, third position.” She said simply and you looked over your shoulder at the woman before releasing the tight grip on your tote and walking over to her.
You followed instructions and planted your feet and fixed your arms, your eyes meeting hers for the next request. There was a knot in your stomach as you stared into her intense eyes, unable to ignore the pining thoughts for the woman swarming your mind.
“Relevé en pointe.” She said and you moved onto the toes of your pointe shoes and she stared proudly at the height it gave you, almost allowing your eyes to meet hers.
“Good. Now stretch out your arms for me.”
You allowed your arms to roll out like wings, spread out with your chest forward and chin high for the woman to admire. She walked behind you, a teasing distance from your hardly covered body. She looked along your triceps and shoulders to your upper back, admiring the way your muscles flexed from years of training.
“Position your head like you do for the grand jeté.”
You looked up and off to the side, the direction you would normally face if you were in the air.
She hummed nearby and you resisted the urges to face her, keeping your body strong and stiff like a statue made for her to admire and critique.
“Lift this leg.” She said with a cold hand suddenly gripping your thigh to lift your left leg up and out, allowing the muscles of your back to stretch. You felt the flesh tingle beneath her but you remained still.
Her fingers quickly landed on your shoulders and you flinched. She smirked.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” she joked and you let out a steady breath.
With gentle pressure she moved her digits slowly over your muscles and the friction between your flesh and her touch grew hot. You couldn’t see but she had closed her eyes and was using her skillful fingers, as well as memory, to detect the cause of your stumbling pattern. You parted your lips to question her, but the way your body and mind reacted to her touch shoved down any protests.
Her hand stopped over a muscle in the back of your neck, pressing it with gentle pressure which caused a small wince from your lips. Her eyes snapped open with a smile.
“There it is.” She muttered, and you hummed in question.
Before you could ask again you felt her lips land on the spot beneath her fingers. They were warm and soothed the area, your spine remaining strong despite the temptation on your shoulder. Your eyes shut slowly as you enjoyed the motion whilst feeling ashamed for it, knowing why she was doing it in the first place. The previously steady breath began to quiver under her breath on your neck, causing goosebumps to raise along your arms.
“Now that we know the issue, it will be easy to correct.” She pulled back but stayed close behind and you felt your motivation dwindle.
Defeat came over you and you lowered your leg back down, spinning to face her and coming off your pointes to see her at your standard height. She raised a brow in question and looked down at you with a disturbed gaze, coaxing your words from you.
“I don't know how to… correct it.” you said ashamed and her eyes flashed with sympathy.
“Good thing we have all night.” she chimed and you felt a sadness envelope your chest when you realized your subconscious was correct about her motive for being here.
“You aren't going to my show are you? That’s why you are here helping and watching me.” You stated and you saw as her face softened, a clear sign you were annoyingly correct.
“It’s not looking like I will be able to make it. But I will do everything in my power to make sure you are prepared.” She assured, her hand coming to cup your cheek and tuck a wispy strand of hair that had managed to escape your updo behind your ear.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll work it out on my own.” You said as your hand came to hers, removing it from your cheek and walking to grab your water.
“Darling-” she started and you turned with a smile.
“Dont waste your breath Joan, I’ll see you at home.” you said before turning away to hide your hurt expression and to prevent yourself from changing your mind. She was always the one to make situations harsh and complicated, so you decided to take responsibility for that role instead this time around.
After a moment you heard an exhausted sigh before her feet clicked over to the stairs and she exited the large room.
Today was the day. You were in the dressing room with other women your age, applying your makeup with steady hands. Despite the many hours of sleep you ensured you had, the light but filling breakfast, and the countless hours of practice, you still felt unprepared. Nerves consumed you as you got dressed. You had been able to do each step of your dance separately but only a handful of times did you complete the whole routine successfully. This fact weighed on you and tied your stomach into impossible knots.
You stood on the sides of the stage, behind a few other girls all waiting to be called up next for their solos. The atmosphere was thick with pressure and you took solace in knowing you were probably not the most nervous ballerina there, but you were certainly close.
The many years you had spent on the stage performing for a crowd allowed your nerves to mainly stem from a lack of confidence and doubts of your skillset as opposed to stage-fright or social anxieties. Still you felt your palms grow sweaty as you took deep breaths and played the song over and over in your mind.
It was also mesmerizing to watch the other dancers perform, all of them talented and elegantly unique in their movements. Your eyes snapped to the crowd, scanning the rows of people with a small friction of hope that your gaze would gravitate to your lover. Images of her sitting in the front row, her hair done neatly with a stunningly dignified blazer on her frame, filled your mind. As quickly as the pictures came, they left, and you feared-- knew, you weren't going to find her.
All these thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the announcer stating your name and the title of your piece, introducing you to the large, full room of strangers.
Tired feet slipped into your sneakers as you grabbed your belongings and headed for the exit as lights shut off behind you and the auditorium began to shut down after its event. A depressive aura flooded around you, suffocating any peace you attempted to feel and your head hung low the whole walk to the parking lot.
When your hand met the cold metal of the doors to the outside world, your face was greeted with a cool breeze and you crossed your arms over your chest. The light but icy wind only made your mood more sour and you reached for your phone to call a taxi instead of baring the walk home.
As you walked slowly forward towards the curb, your nose in your phone, you felt a chill travel down your spine and your brows furrowed in discomfort. The chill conjured all sorts of scents to fill your mind, the smell of far out rain clouds, crushed leaves, and a familiar sweet warmth that caused your eyes to snap up.
With straight brows you gazed around, trying to identify if you were crazy or your brain was recognizing a scent so specific it only meant one thing. Then your eyes landed on her.
The tall, dark woman was walking towards you from the lot, soft eyes and a wicked grin meeting your gaze. You froze and watched as she grew closer, unsure what to say when she reached you. Long legs carried her to you quickly and you bit your lip as you thought hard on a response to her late company.
“Hello darling, I am so sorry I couldn’t make it, but how did you do?” she beamed, her arms coming to rest on your shoulders, gently rubbing them down to your biceps. You didn't move and just stared up at her blankly.
“Good.” Was all you could muster out and she tilted her head. There were times you would rely on the woman’s expert ability to observe and identify situations in order to avoid having to be truly vulnerable. This felt like one of those times, so you just remained unmoving.
“Good? That's all? Y/n, what's the matter?” she questioned relentlessly with furrowed brows and you looked away, your eyes fixating on the flickering light in the corner of the parking lot. No matter how long you stared, the flickers never turned to morse code with a reply for you to fire back at the woman, so you just looked down.
“Answer me, sweetheart.” she ordered kindly but firmly, including the pet name to convey the care she felt despite the need for a reply. After another moment of resentful silence you looked up at her, your eyes holding a thin sheen of saltwater you hoped to blame on the wind.
“I did g-great..” you started, shaking your head at your phony words already, “I landed the grand jete just fine.” you adjusted. Her expression was proud but her eyes were still worrisome and she held onto your arms with a protective reassurance.
“Then whatever is the matter?” she questioned with an eerily light tone.
The usually quick witted and intelligent woman's question turned the depression into kindling, igniting a fire in your core that caused your chest to bubble up in anger. While you may have avoided being vulnerable, it only snowballed into an unproductive rage.
“What’s the matter?” You asked with sharp eyes and she straightened up with a twitch of her chin.
“The matter is that you weren’t here.” You stated firmly and her eyes flicked between yours.
“I worked so hard to be… perfect, to have control of myself. Like you said-- like you wanted. And when I finally master this, you aren’t here.” You said in disbelief, your own words twisting your reality into truth.
The brunette woman’s eyes softened and she reached a hand up to grasp your jaw but you turned your head away and she sighed.
“Y/n, I manage a prison with hundreds of inmates and officers. If I could tell you what is happening at work I would, but I cannot. So can you please try and understand that I was needed there. Otherwise you know I would have been here, my love.” she stated and you chewed your cheek with disdain.
You wanted to be the understanding partner and tell her it was all okay, but your chest felt heavy and a knot formed in your throat. There was a cool silence that surrounded you and you shook your head, still looking off in the distance.
“I know, but I am allowed to be upset, aren't I?” you questioned, your tone faltering at the last moment, betraying your drafted confidence. Her posture softened and she grew guilty that you had been made to feel like you were unable to be angry in unfair situations just because she was on the other side of them.
Her hand grasped your chin with a gentle force to make you face her and her dark brown eyes flashed a golden tint as she smiled.
“Of course you are darling. I am so sorry I couldn’t be there.” Her tone was strained, intense and real, free of any manipulations or charmingly effective changes.
“You know how much I love to see you perform. Why would I have missed this?” She added and your eyes looked between hers as they slowly brimmed with tears that you attempted to blink away and she frowned.
“You’re right, I’m sorry-” you started but she shook her head and interrupted you by pulling you close to her. Your head nuzzled in her neck as she placed kisses to your head, moving to your temple, then cheek, before placing a soft kiss to your lips.
“If anyone should be apologizing it is me, but there is no need-- I have a plan.” she said, grabbing your hand and leading you to her car.
It didn't take long for you to recognize the route. She parked the car in the dark lot close to the building's entrance and got out, walking around to open your door.
“What are we doing here? They close the auditorium early on Fridays.” You said confused and she just held out her hand, helping you out of the car before grabbing your tote and costume bag for you. With a hand to your lower back she guided you to the doors.
When you made it to the entrance of the small local theater you reached for the handle hesitantly, preparing for the embarrassment of trying to open a locked door. Only to your surprise the handle turned and the door pushed open. You flashed her a confused stare and she smiled.
“Joan, will you tell me what’s going on?” You asked again as she moved to lead you to the bathrooms backstage. Once you arrived at the door she held out your bag and you grabbed it with an unknowing gaze.
“Change into your costume and be on stage in ten.” She ordered and your lips curved into a small smile.
“I may not have been able to make it to your public performance, but I am not content with missing out on seeing you perform it at all. Not after all the time and energy you put into it.” She said and before you could protest or question her, she was placing sweet kisses to your lips. Then she was pulling back and disappearing around the corner.
When you finished getting dressed, you gave yourself a quick glance in the mirror. Quick eyes doublechecked all your buttons and zippers and made sure your makeup looked as fresh as it did when you first applied it hours ago. A nervous flush graced your cheeks and you let in steady breaths as you walked out of the restroom towards the side of the stage.
As you noticed all the lights were prepared and the stage was ready, your heart fluttered. A clear habit you had started enacted and you poked your head out, not needing to filter through the rows since your tall dark woman was sitting in the perfect seat to view you.
Your eyes flicked to the clock behind her, only a few seconds until your ten minute mark had approached and you straightened your posture and prepared to glide out with simple turns on pointe.
On queue the music began, the opening section starting and you counted in your head, waiting for your marker. When it arrived you twirled on stage with a quaint smile and elegant feet, your eyes immediately locking on hers for a moment before you turned once more. Butterflies rose in your chest with a shockingly delightful nerve that only spurred you on. Talented feet guided you on stage, leading your movements as you remained in control of your muscles.
Joan watched with a dark gaze, her eyes proud and utterly captured. They traced the outline of your body as it moved in various enchanting ways. Her legs shifted in her seat, her shoulders tensing, and her fingers gripping together as she focused in awe.
The piece you had chosen to dance to was one of her favorites, so to have it paired with your raw talent only made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world. She loved your appreciation for classical music, both in your performances and your personal listening. Classic melodies often calmed her and you often raised her spirits, made her feel understood-- seen. When the two were paired it was a drug, addictingly sweet and reminding the woman of how much she craves it.
As she watched you she felt guilt rise in her, an aftermath created from her attitude the past few weeks. The catty comments about your abilities, the snarky replies when you ran into her at home, and the final words before bed all caught up to the woman. She watched you with a full heart, your performance simultaneously conjuring the guilt while banning any negative stressors she was holding on to.
When the tricky part of your routine approached, she stared with a quirked brow and confidently alluring smirk. You didn't fail to see this and the gaze she held on you made you feel rather reassured.
The way your muscles obeyed your mind had you doubting the level of your performance during the event in comparison to now, your body feeling more connected. The music began to swell, echoing in the large room as you prepared for the grand jete. This time you didn't feel doubts about falling but rather the nudge of proving a point to the woman in the empty audience.
Legs twirled and you closed your eyes as you allowed your toes to leave the ground and you soared through the air. You could feel the music in your bones and decided to trust yourself. The instincts proved to be right as you felt the ground meet your foot with strength and you smiled. With eyes opening gently, you continued on with your routine and allowed your gaze to drift to the woman in the audience who was staring with a large pleased grin. It was as if she had created you on her own, shaped you into her prodigy.
As you neared the end, Joan shifted in her seat. Seeing you execute the motion so effortlessly made it clear it was known to you all along and there was another factor holding you back. The way you gained control of your body down to every vein made the woman's cheeks hot and she relished in the feeling she had when watching you.
When the music began to soften and come to a close, you twirled into your last move with a lightness you hadn’t felt the whole time you performed this number. The music faded out and you remained in your last position, breathing hard as you waited until the last note had ended completely. Then you allowed your chin to rise as the sounds of slow, strong claps rose and echoed from before you.
A large grin reached your cheeks as you locked eyes with her. She didn't stop clapping until you had bowed and disappeared from the stage.
Not bothering to change again, you simply removed your tutu and added a wrap skirt around it, your detailed bodice remaining along with your tights. Your feet couldn't move fast enough as you navigated back into the empty space.
Your grin faded when you didn't find the woman right away, but she emerged from your left and took a few strides to reach you. Before she even said a word or allowed you one, her hands were gently gripping your jaw and pulling your lips up towards hers. She leant down to reach you and allow her lips to lock with yours passionately.
You could feel the heat on her cheeks that was spreading to her lips and infecting your own. The taste of you on her tongue elicited a deep breath through her nose and gentle groan in her chest that caused your insides to twirl.
When you finally pulled away your lips were pink and she was breathing heavily. Her forehead pressed to yours and she smiled as she pulled back and your gazes aligned.
“Bravo! You were fucking perfect my love.” she said in a low but excited voice and you blushed.
“Yeah?” You questioned gently and she nodded, placing a smooch to each of your cheeks.
“Absolutley. You are so beautiful my darling, and I am so sorry I missed this earlier.” Her hand cupped your face and you nuzzled into it, reassuring her and her apologies.
“Thank you for setting this up. It felt good to perform it for you. I like showing off.” You said with a wink and she let out a light giggle to which you crumbled at the sound.
“Is that so? Well, I do believe there is more than enough room at home to show off more of your talents.” She said with a lustful tone and you felt your mouth grow dry as your thighs casually pressed together. Her hand grabbed yours and you followed as she led you out of the theater.
The moment you entered the dark house, shoes were kicked off and your lips were clashing into hers. She moved her large hands over your frame, roaming over your shoulders and down your back, massaging your flesh with her movements as she landed on your waist.
Rough fingers gripped tightly before pushing your back against the front door. You grunted into her lips and she smiled against you. Her lips drifted to the corner of your lips then to your cheek and down your jaw. You tilted your head, allowing her more room to trail down your neck. She sucked a spot gently and you moaned at the warmth surrounding you and her tongue grazing your thin and sensitive flesh.
The steadiness and strength of her hold on you allowed you to stand comfortably with your weight on tip toes to lessen that gap between your neck and the tall woman’s lips. She pulled back and you frowned, a small whine leaving your throat which drew a smirk to her face.
A few inches from the woman and you felt uncomfortably far from her, your arms reaching out to grab her. Slow hands traced up her shoulders til they met the sides of her neck, and then feathered into her greying hair. You gripped the hair at the base of her neck tightly and her gaze grew dark. Her lips came to hover over yours, her eyes admiring your face in full detail. The pleas in your eyes told her how turned on you were, and as much as you tried to hide it she noticed every time you rubbed your thighs against each other for any ounce of friction.
“You are enchanting on and off stage my love.” Her words were breathy and seductive as she teased your slightly parted lips.
“Watching you in command of your body, so passionate and beautiful, it was hard to not interrupt with this.” She muttered as her lips granted yours their wish and linked with them, moving in sync as your bodies pressed together.
Before you could even begin to trail your hands to her breasts, she was pulling back and tucking hair behind your ear.
“Tonight is all about you, tell me what you want, baby.” She smiled, the rarely used pet name sending a heated pulse to your center.
“Anything?” You asked and she nodded, her hand pulling you off the door and leading you towards your bedroom.
Joan often took the lead, always pleasuring you and ensuring you were taken care of, unless a punishment. So you wanted to take advantage of the opportunity.
When you reached the bedroom you pulled her into a kiss and she wrapped her arms around your waist. Kissing you with fervor as you moaned into it before pulling away.
“I think it's your turn to perform. I want to see you show yourself off.” You said, eyes dragging down her body and she smiled quizzically.
“Oh really? How ever do you mean darling?” She played along and you smiled bashfully.
“As I recall there are quite a few items I haven't seen you display in some time.” You said with a nod to the large walk in closet beside you.
“Any preferences, love?” She said without hesitation as she moved around you to the space.
You thought for a moment, but since you knew no matter what you were going to be head over heels the moment she stepped out, you decided to just smile.
“Surprise me.”
With that she disappeared to change in the spacious closet as you stripped till you were only in your lacey panties and stockings with your lace up bodice. Soft feet took you to the record player in the corner and you placed a mellow classical album on to fill the silence. Then you got yourself situated in a prepared pose on the bed and not long after, Joan made her entrance.
The speed in which you sat up could have caused a harsh breeze as you stared in awe at the woman. You realized you had given Joan freedom and the woman was going to use it to the max in order to maintain her dominance.
Your eyes drug slowly over her frame as your mouth began to salivate and your legs brought you to slither down and off the bed. The woman had slipped on a simple, lace, and very sheer black bustier that supported her breasts so they were on display for you. This alone was enough to enlarge the wet spot in your panties.
However she had paired the top with the elegant, lace lined, solid black harness strap on. Your mouth hung open as you walked closer and she admired your dumbfounded look. There was only one other time she had worn this specific set and it was the night of your first ever performance that Joan attended.
You had been dating for a few months at that point and you were finally comfortable with her coming to one of your shows. When the intimidating woman saw you dance for the first time she was astonished and knew right away she had to have you in any way a person can have another. You made love ravenously that night after she stepped out in the black set that you were now gazing upon once again.
“Fuck, Joan.” You muttered and this only made her devilish smirk widen. “You look amazing.” you added as you reached her.
“Thank you baby, now, what would you like me to start with?” Her brow cocked and you felt the flush run through you as her hand reached out to cup your cheek lovingly. The outfit she was wearing and the way her dark hooded eyes gazed down on you sent currents to your throbbing center and you stammered a reply desperately.
“I don’t care, please just fuck me already.” you said softly, politely, and she moved forward, making you back up to the bed.
Her large frame towered over you with a seductive shadow and you swallowed roughly as she finally let her lips meet yours once more. You kissed her back passionately and allowed your arms to wrap around her neck to pull her closer as you kissed her with an intense desire. You could feel her silicone member between you and you let out a shaky groan.
Firm hands on your waist pushed you down and you moved to situate yourself on the bed, but she grabbed your hips and turned you so you were facing the headboard. Your bottom lifted off the bed as she gripped your hips and you sucked in a breath, coming onto all fours.
The thick air sent pulses to your core and you looked over your shoulder at the large woman behind you. Her shadow casted over you like an intimidating eclipse and your mouth twitched into a smile. Strong hands remained on your hips, thumbs toying with the strings of your lacy panties. Joan’s eyes were dark and thoughtful, mapping out your body and choreographing the perfect pleasure.
“Is this okay?” She asked with a sudden softness and your brows furrowed as you made eye contact once more and nodded.
“Yes, please, I want you.” You whined and the corners of her mouth turned up to a mischievous smirk.
She leaned forward, a hand coming to land beside yours on the bed as her chest pressed to your back. Her lips met your cheek, then your lips. Soft kisses were placed to your pleading lips, her eyes remaining open so she could witness your face contorting in arousal and love. Then she moved to your neck, slow and wet kisses were trailed until they met your spine.
With a gentle finger, she traced your spine, following her lips as they kissed down the vertebrae until she reached your bottom. Her finger left chills behind on your flesh and she pulled it away when she met the end. Suddenly the same finger hooked your underwear and pulled them down harshly.
An approving brow quirked at the sight of your already glistening center and she ran the tip of her length through your folds to collect the natural lubricant. She could tell your tightness would be hard to penetrate without warming you up, but she also knew sometimes you preferred it that way.
You could feel her motions stop and your gaze met her face once more, observing her expression and how her brows furrowed slightly as she got caught up in her thoughts.
“Baby, please? I don’t care if it hurts, I just need you now.” You reassured her and she didn't hesitate before pushing in the first half with a sudden low grunt.
Your head hung low at the feeling, your grip tightening on the sheets as you sucked in a breath and attempted to bite back your winces. A few whimpers managed to escape as your legs shook for a moment while you adjusted.
The woman noticed your body’s twitches and the glow of a light sweat that instantly covered your spine as you adjusted to her size and she smirked, her other hand coming to run along your back reassuringly. She let out a deep breath as she looked down at you taking her in with slight resistance.
“Ready for more?” She muttered and you shook your head in your haze, but pushed your hips back instinctively and she grabbed ahold of them to stop them. You picked your head up to turn and look at her with confused and pleading eyes.
“I need to hear it.” She ordered and you smiled softly.
“Don't stop Joan, it’s your turn to show off.” You said softly, your tone seductive and desperate for her to grant your wishes.
With the words you so carefully chose leaving your lips, the woman felt the power rushing to her head and relished in the permission to do what she wants with you. Her nails dug into your hip bones and you moaned out before she pushed the rest of the way in with a grunt. You let out a shriek that morphed into a low, erotic groan and allowed your head to fall once more.
She began to move slowly and you saw stars as she pulled out then pushed in deeper with each thrust. Your hips moved with the momentum of her own and the guidance of her hands gripping them. The sounds of your slick growing wetter was filthy and caused your cheeks to flush but only spurred on the tall woman behind you.
You moaned louder as she sped up her thrusts and her hand slowly snaked around to find your clit, rubbing firm circles that caused your thighs to twitch.
“Fuck Joan you feel so good. “ You groaned and she sped up her thrusts, matching the fingers rubbing your sensitive bud, with the speed of her hips.
“I’m so proud of you, pet. So perfect on stage today, taking me so well.” she praised and you hummed in reaction. Praise from Joan Ferguson always brought you to new highs.
Soon your arms grew tired and you rested your front half on the bed, erect nipples meeting the sheets through the thin fabric as you moaned at the deeper angle this provided. Your hips moved back on her as a result, your bottom in the air as she began to pound deeper into you. You moaned her name in long strings of breathy grunts and she smirked.
The familiar build of your orgasm began to grow and you took in steady breaths to enjoy the feeling of her longer. She could sense your climax approaching. As if she could really feel you tightening around her she saw the way your eyes squeezed shut and your brows pushed together and she pushed harder. Her free hand moved from your hips to the back of your neck, moving the hair away from it.
The cool air met your neck and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine as you moaned out with every thrust. Her fingers began to collect your wetness and used it to rub harsh, sensitive flicks on your bud. With the hand once on your neck, she gripped your shoulder softly for stability, allowing her thrusts to bottom out and your head spun on its axis.
Deep pornographic moans left your lips and you huffed between them. Her hand removed itself from your shoulder and returned to your hip. You felt your climax approaching and you turned to meet her gaze. Her heavy dark eyes were looking down at you with a chilling glance. It was lustful but intense, like she was a minute away from snapping.
“Are you close my darling?” she asked in a low voice and you nodded with a longing gaze that reached her now curious eyes. She could tell you were quietly asking for something.
“You’ll have to use your words, I can't tell what you are thinking when I'm this deep in your desperate little cunt.” She said firmly and you squeezed around her with a loud gasp crossed with moan, your eyes rolling into your head as she smirked at the sound.
Weak attempts to pull from her grip were offered but you knew you were too melted down to regain any solid control. With a dry throat you spoke up with a sweet voice.
“Kiss me, watch me as I cum around you..” You said with an uncertainty, almost like it was a question. Her heart thumped at the request and she was quick to accommodate. You gasped at the feeling of her pulling out, leaving your center empty.
Strong hands flipped you onto your back and she moved to pull you to the edge of the bed but you grabbed her wrists to stop her. She furrowed her brows and you moved up the bed, pulling her on top of you. Your fingers moved to the bodice, undoing the clasps to strip it from her and she did the same to your lacy top. Leaving you nude and desperate beneath her.
Her body hovered over you, her bare chest meeting yours as she pressed her lips to yours. You moaned at the feeling of her pillowy lips interlocking with yours. You moved in sync with her and your hand gripped her silky hair. Soon you felt her member aligning with your dripping, sensitive center and you held your breath as she pushed into you.
A sharp whine let out against her mouth and she allowed her tongue to enter past your lips and deepen the kiss. You groaned into it and your arm held around her shoulders tightly as she thrust deeply into you. Your knees bent up on each side of her to allow her more room, pushing into you fully.
Skillful hips slammed down into you, gravity allowing for a rough thrust from her body weight on top of you. The thrusts caused a sharp but erotic pain to spread in your core. You kissed her deeply as she thrusted into you, your breasts rubbing against hers as your legs wrapped around her. Her lips pulled back for air and she rested her forehead against yours. Brown, lustful eyes looked down between you as she focused and held her steady breathing while releasing such powerful, relentless, energy on you.
The sounds of her grunts and deep breathing were bringing you close to your release and she moved her hand between you to your clit, rubbing back and forth in pace with her thrusts. Your hand feathered through her hair, pushing it out of her face and behind her ear. You cupped her jaw and brought her lips to meet yours once again, sloppy but intimate kisses were exchanged and you furrowed your brows as you felt your orgasm nearing. Your other hand gripped onto her waist, pulling her hips impossibly closer to you.
“Fuck- you feel so good. I’m going to cum!” You moaned louder and she smirked against you, her thrusts growing deeper and faster along with her hand to your clit.
“Don’t hold back my love.” she quipped, your eyes holding onto hers until the last moment before you reached your peak.
Eyes squeezed shut and your back arched off the bed, pressing your chest harder into her. The heat between the both of you only fueled the fire burning from your orgasm that rippled through you. Moans pulled from your throat and Joan watched as you unraveled beneath her, a smile on her lips as she admired the way your expressions morphed and bent at her will. She continued her thrusts as you came down and caught your breath.
Before you could say a word her lips found yours and you hummed into them. She moved to your cheek then trailed kisses down your neck and sprinkled them across the dewy flesh. As her lips moved over you, her hand unclasped the harness and removed it, setting it aside. She licked a stripe up the middle of your chest, tasting the salty sheen with a smile. You watched with heavy eyes, your body still shaking from the intense orgasm you had just overcome.
With a skilful route she moved to the valley between your breasts, placing kisses to the flesh around them before taking one of your peaks into her mouth. Her tongue rolled over your nipple with tantalizing knowledge and your head fell back as you moaned. She moved to give the same treatment to the other and you watched with your mouth slightly agape.
Then she continued to trace down, kissing down your stomach softly, your muscle twitching at the slightly ticklish gestures. Her dark eyes looked up at you lustfully and you nearly melted under her gaze, watching as she moved her mouth to your wet center, licking a stripe up through your folds. You shuttered as she collected your cum on her tongue and it ran over your sensitive clit.
The room was thick and hot, the cracked windows let in a cold breeze that soothed the rising temperatures of your skin. She continued to move her tongue through your folds, tracing circles around your clit as you moaned softly. Your sensitive center twitched beneath her, your back arching off the bed to relieve some of the intense pressure building up once again.
Her hands gripped your thighs, holding them apart as you threatened to close them against her. You moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching, the build up coming suddenly as your breathing grew shallow.
“Joan, I-i can’t. It’s too much.” You squirmed, your hips rolling as you attempted to move your numb clit away from her tongue.
Your cunt squeezed around nothing so your legs shook as the sting of a second orgasm continued to rise.
“Shhh, yes you can, baby. Cum for mommy, darling.” She muttered against your center before shoving her tongue into you.
The words that left her teeth caused your back to arch, pushing your pussy against her harder. Harsh lips sucked and nipped at your clit sending you over the edge. Your eyes squeezed shut and you felt your orgasm flood over you in merciless waves, harder than the first one she had given you.
“Yes, mommy fuck- that feels so good.” You moaned as you came and she shoved two fingers into you to help endure the draconian climax as your hips grinded against them. Your moans falling out around you as you convulsed on her hand.
Finally you caught your breath and she pulled them from you, sucking your slick off her digits as she kept her eyes on yours. You reached out for her and she brought her lips to yours roughly. Mouths open as you explore each other's lips, kissing deeply with tongues intertwining as you entangle your legs. You finally got to feel her center against you, her wetness rubbing onto your leg as you pulled her closer.
Her hands roamed your body, sliding over your back to grab your ass and pull you on top of her. Your straddled her and continued to kiss with fervor as her hands gripped your bottom roughly. You pulled away, sitting up so you could look down at her and she sat up against the pillows so she wasn't too far from your lips.
“Well, Governor Ferguson, your performance evaluation is in..” You started and she raised a brow with a smirk, her hands gripping your bottom harder at the name.
“Is that so?” She inquired seductively and you nodded, your hands coming to stroke through her hair, a thumb stopping to graze her cheek lovingly.
“Yep. A perfect 10.” You nodded and she smiled up at you with a playful nod. “Though I had one note.” You added and her smile turned more quizzical.
“And what might that be, darling?” She teased and you smirked with a sarcastic glimmer in your eyes.
“It appears you lacked some control over yourself.” You mocked, proud of yourself for the catty remark. Joan tilted her head and sat up straight so her lips were aligned with yours, her hands stroking up your back.
“That is what you think, but I was very much in control, my love. As always.” She smirked and you blushed at her confident reply and airy tone, as if you were silly for even attempting to strip her of her power. You giggled and she laughed at the sound, your face burying into her neck and she held you against her.
The two of you stayed cuddled in that position for an uncertain amount of time, exchanging silent kisses and tiny leftover apologies. Joan showered you with endless compliments, revealing how desperate to see you perform again she was, and how guilty she had still felt for missing the one today. You of course dismissed her sorry’s and begged to let you please her, make her feel good like she did for you. Pleas left your lips until she coaxed you to sleep, your head on her chest as you curled into her and you both drifted off.
Had another Pam dream last night! Of course (as usual) she was Joan. No names were used but that was the vibe.
I was in a large bathroom and taking a shower. The shower was huge and my mom and Pam came into the bathroom. I pulled the curtain closed more cos Pam was standing where the gap was. My mom left her in there to shalower in another spot.
Then we were both done and I was looking for clothes. Pam was drying off and we just knew not to look at each other. I sneakily backed up so I could look in a big mirror and could see her back (they makes no sense if it was a mirror image) and she had her left arm up and I could see some side boob. I felt bad for looking so I stopped.
I picked out a brown shirt, brown flannel and brown shorts to wear. Then kept losing them. I eventually went into my room and Pam was by the wall beside my bed on the computer and she was having issues with it. My mom said I would help. I have her a look cos I knew she knew I liked Pam but was too shy to talk to her.
I sat on the side of the bed by Pam and she handed me the mousepad and mouse. I tried getting it to move and complained that it needed something more sturdy under it. I was hoping Pam would say use her thigh cos it was an inch beside mine and I wanted an excuse to touch her. But she didn't suggest it. She didn't really say much and seemed quiet and shy. Then I woke up.
Gentle hands, quiet words… and permission you’ve never had before.
IM ALIVEEEE !!! only slightly, you can thank a bottle of cheap wine for this. I’m so sorry I vanished but here’s a chapter which is different from the Joan we know , she’s lowkey SOFT??? which I literally never thought I’d write so idk what’s happened to me but here’s it is , obviously we are still going to have mean Joan but this felt like a well deserved moment for reader so I hope you enjoy ❤️
I was watching s7 in the background whilst writing this and it’s boring me because I want JOAN GIVE ME JOAN!
Also this gif is perfect ! Not mine but thank u to the creator 👹
———————————————————————————
Joan had kept a careful eye on you throughout the day. The privacy of her office allowed it—brief glances at the security feed on her phone, each one followed by the faintest smirk at the sight of your trembling body. You had impressed her.
She would never say it.
On the drive home, she adjusted the settings—turning the vibrations higher without hesitation—before tossing her phone into her handbag and returning her attention to the road.
She was curious to see what state you’d be in.
⸻
Time had long since lost meaning for you. All you knew was the ache—deep, consuming, relentless. Your wrists burned from the restraints, your body trembling under the strain, desperate for release.
The sound of footsteps outside the locked door snapped your head up.
Each step sent a cold rush through your veins.
She was here.
The door unlocked, and your governor stepped inside. Joan paused briefly, lifting a hand to brush her hair back—loose now, softer than before. She looked tired, but her composure remained intact, sharp as ever. Still… there was something else there.
If you didn’t know her better, you might have thought she was pleased.
The higher setting had long since pushed you past pleasure. It was too much—painful, overwhelming—yet your body still betrayed you, intoxicated by it, by her.
Your breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly, drawing her gaze. Joan stepped closer, taking in the sight of you—your heaving breasts, your slick thighs, the way your body responded despite itself.
Her bare hand rose, fingers brushing lightly along your throat.
“Well, well… it seems you’ve had quite an amusing day.” Her voice was calm, measured. “Did you miss me?”
You strained toward her touch, a broken whimper slipping past your lips. “Y-yes, Governor… I’m so glad you’re back.”
Her hand drifted lower, flattening against your chest before trailing further down. The mere thought of her touching you there made your body tense, overwhelmed.
“Did you learn how it feels… to give up control?”
Her fingers grazed over your swollen, sensitive cunt, barely there, yet it was enough to make your breath hitch.
“Mmm—” Words failed you, your mind too clouded, your body too consumed by sensation.
“Yes, Governor… I did.”
She moved then, not lingering. Her fingers hooked around the loop of the vibrator, slowly pulling it free. The overstimulation made your body jolt, a sharp edge of sensation cutting through you—but then—
Nothing.
She turned it off.
“Good girl.”
Relief washed over you so suddenly it made you laugh, breathless and unsteady.
Her eyes flicked up at the sound. In any other moment, she would have corrected that—punished the lapse.
This time, she didn’t.
“Let’s get you down.”
Joan stepped behind you, her movements precise as she lowered the rope and began untying your wrists. You hissed softly as the blood returned, the sting sharp, but she didn’t pause.
Still… there was a gentleness to her touch. Subtle, controlled—but there.
Different.
Your arms fell to your sides, weak and heavy. Her hand came up, brushing your cheek, her thumb catching faint tear tracks you hadn’t realised were there.
Her gaze lingered—your lips, your face—before she leaned in.
The kiss was brief. Soft. Controlled.
But undeniably there.
A quiet sound escaped you, melting into it, and when she pulled back, she noted the way you trembled.
“Follow me.”
You obeyed without hesitation, your steps unsteady, legs weak beneath you. The scent of lavender reached you before the sight did, along with the soft sound of running water.
She led you into the bathroom—warm, elegant, lit by candlelight. A large bath sat waiting, filled with bubbles, steam curling gently in the air.
Joan’s arms came around you, steadying you as she guided you into the water.
The warmth enveloped your body instantly, soothing the ache, easing the tension that had consumed you for hours. A quiet sigh left you as you sank into it, your muscles finally beginning to relax.
Peace, at last.
She knelt beside the bath, rolling up her sleeves before dipping her fingers into the water, idly swirling it.
“You did well today, Y/N.”
There it was.
Not praise—never that.
But close enough.
“You deserve this. Relax.” A pause. “I’ll be back soon.”
You already missed her before she even stood, the absence settling in too quickly, too deeply. The need for her presence clung to you, overwhelming and constant.
But the warmth, the quiet, the exhaustion…
Your eyes drifted shut.
And for the first time that day, your body finally gave in—sleep taking you gently as the water cradled you.
————————————————————————
The rest of the night blurred into something distant and hazy. You weren’t sure how you’d ended up here—how you’d made it into her bed—but the feeling of silk against your skin grounded you, the faint scent of lavender still clinging to your body.
Your eyes fluttered open, then closed again.
This wasn’t the same room.
Panic flickered briefly in your chest before settling into something quieter.
Her room.
You turned your head slightly, catching the soft glow of light spilling from what you assumed was the en-suite. The sound of running water filled the silence—steady, calming—paired with the faintest hum.
Joan.
The water stopped.
Time stretched again, your body still heavy, your mind slow to catch up, until finally the bathroom door opened. You kept your eyes barely shut, just enough to watch without being caught.
She stepped out, her hair damp, clinging to her skin. A dark burgundy towel was wrapped securely around her body, her movements unhurried as she brushed through her wet hair. The soft hum continued—something classical, no doubt.
Of course it was.
Your breath caught.
You let your eyes close fully again, feigning sleep, your thoughts racing despite your stillness. This couldn’t be real. You were in her bed. She had just stepped out of the shower—
Which meant she was…
Heat rushed through you, and it took everything in you to remain still beneath the sheets, to keep your breathing even.
Don’t ruin it.
You listened instead—the quiet rhythm of her moving around the room, drawers opening and closing, fabric shifting. Then, finally—
The bed dipped.
You stayed perfectly still, eyes shut, not daring to move. A part of you feared that if you acknowledged this—if you pushed too far—she would pull back. That she would become the version of herself you knew best.
Cold. Sharp. Untouchable.
This… this was something else.
Something fragile.
Something you didn’t want to lose.
But curiosity—bravery, perhaps—got the better of you.
You turned slowly, carefully, until you faced her.
Joan sat upright against the headboard, her bedside lamp casting a warm glow over her. Glasses rested low on her nose as she read, her damp hair falling loosely over her shoulders. The dressing-gown she wore softened her—made her seem almost… approachable.
It was jarring.
You stared.
She turned a page, completely unfazed.
“It’s rude to stare.”
Her voice was soft—but the authority beneath it hadn’t gone anywhere.
You bit your lip. “I’m sorry, Governor.”
“Joan.”
She closed her book and placed it neatly on the bedside table before finally looking at you.
“You may call me Joan in these moments.”
Joan.
You repeated it quietly, tasting the name, warmth blooming in your chest at what she implied.
These moments.
You smiled faintly. “Joan.”
Her gaze lingered on you, slow and deliberate.
“What are you thinking, little mouse?”
You shifted closer, turning fully onto your side, your head sinking into the pillow before lifting again to meet her eyes.
“This is…” You hesitated. “Strange.”
Her brow lifted slightly.
“But—” you rushed, “—nice. I love when you’re mean. God, I crave it… but I never thought I’d enjoy this side of you too.”
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Joan tilted her head back, letting out a soft, breathy laugh—rare, unguarded. Her hand reached out, fingers slipping into your hair, stroking gently.
“Believe me,” she murmured, “I am well aware of your preferences.”
Her touch lingered.
“But if you are to be in my home—” her fingers tightened slightly, “—as mine… I will take care of you as well.”
Your breath hitched.
Mine.
Heat pooled low in your stomach, your body responding instantly, almost embarrassingly so. Your eyes fluttered at her touch, guilt flickering briefly at the shift in your thoughts—but your body didn’t care.
And neither did she.
Joan’s lips pressed into a thin line, a quiet tsk leaving her.
“Insatiable,” she muttered. “I would have thought today’s… activities would have been enough to keep you satisfied for at least a few days.”
But the heat only grew.
Your breathing deepened, your gaze locking onto hers—silent, pleading.
She saw it.
Of course she did.
Her fingers tightened in your hair just enough to pull a soft whimper from your lips—then stilled.
A pause.
A choice.
“Go on, then,” she said calmly. “Do what you wish.”
You froze.
The permission felt foreign. Wrong, almost.
But you didn’t question it.
Not when she was offering.
You pushed yourself up, the sheets sliding down your body to pool at your waist. Sitting on your knees, you spread your legs slowly, deliberately—for her.
Her eyes darkened.
“Come here.”
You moved without hesitation, crawling across the bed until you straddled her thighs. She watched you closely, something amused flickering beneath her composure as her hands came to your sides, gliding up along your thighs, your hips, your torso.
You straightened slightly, leaning back just enough to give her the full view.
An offering.
Her gaze sharpened.
You met her eyes through your lashes, then began to move—slowly grinding your hips down against her, the silk of her nightdress doing nothing to dull the sensation. A soft moan slipped from your lips as you leaned closer, your breath warm against her skin.
“Please, Joan…” you whispered, lips brushing near hers. “Kiss me.”
She didn’t hesitate.
Her hands slid around your back, pulling you firmly against her as her lips captured yours. The kiss was deep, controlled—entirely hers. Her tongue moved with deliberate dominance, setting the pace, taking what she wanted.
And yet—
She didn’t move further.
Didn’t rush.
She knew this alone was enough.
Your hips continued to grind, your moans spilling into her mouth as your body heated, your skin damp, your mind slipping further under her control. Her hands moved slowly along your back, grounding, steadying, while your movements grew less so.
The kiss stretched on, unhurried, intoxicating.
You finally pulled back for air, breathless, your eyes drinking her in—her glasses still perched perfectly, her gaze fixed on you, filled with something deeper now.
You wanted to stay here.
Forever.
“Lie down.”
The command cut cleanly through the haze.
You obeyed instantly, sliding off her and settling back onto the bed, the sheets twisted beneath you. Joan moved just as quickly, her body hovering over yours, hands braced on either side.
Your breath came fast now, anticipation curling tight in your chest.
She leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to your lips—then her hand closed around your throat.
Not tight.
But certain.
Control reestablished.
A smirk flickered across her face before she lowered her head, her damp hair brushing against your skin as she moved downward. Your chest rose sharply, and she paused—just long enough to glance up at you.
Breathe.
Then she continued.
You lay there, legs falling open instinctively as she settled between them, her hands resting firmly on your thighs. She didn’t move right away.
She watched.
Took you in.
Memorised you like this.
And stored it away.
Her head lowered again, her lips brushing your stomach—slow, deliberate—her tongue trailing lower, lower—
Until finally—
You broke.
Your hands flew to your face, a sound tearing from your throat, somewhere between a sob and a moan.
She started slowly. Painfully slow.
Kissing. Licking. Mapping every inch of you with practiced precision. Your toes curled, your legs shifting, caught between wanting to pull away and desperately needing more.
Her arms hooked beneath your thighs, holding you open, keeping you exactly where she wanted you.
Every movement was controlled.
Measured.
Intentional.
“I can be kind,” she murmured against you.
A slow lick.
“I can be cruel.”
Her teeth grazed your clit, and your hips bucked sharply.
“If you are good to me…”
Another slow drag of her tongue.
“Then I will be good to you.”
This time she didn’t hold back—her mouth closing around your clit, sucking gently, firmly, sending a sharp wave of pleasure through you that made your head spin.
“Are you going to be good?”
Again.
“Y-yes—yes, I will—I’ll be so good—”
Her breath ghosted over you.
“Mmm. We’ll see.”
Then she gave you exactly what you needed.
Her rhythm built—steady, relentless—her tongue working you with precision, alternating between slow, deep licks and focused attention on your clit. Your body unraveled beneath her, your sounds breaking, your thoughts dissolving into nothing but sensation.
She felt it—the way you tensed, the way you neared—and instead of easing up, she pushed you further.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
Until your hands finally dropped to her hair, fingers tangling weakly, a silent plea she understood.
She slowed.
Stopped.
Pressed a soft, final kiss to your sensitive cunt before rising again, her presence towering over you once more.
Joan leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow kiss.
You tasted yourself.
You smiled.
“Thank you, Joan,” you whispered.
Her thumb brushed your cheek, almost absentmindedly.
Gentle hands, quiet words… and permission you’ve never had before.
IM ALIVEEEE !!! only slightly, you can thank a bottle of cheap wine for this. I’m so sorry I vanished but here’s a chapter which is different from the Joan we know , she’s lowkey SOFT??? which I literally never thought I’d write so idk what’s happened to me but here’s it is , obviously we are still going to have mean Joan but this felt like a well deserved moment for reader so I hope you enjoy ❤️
I was watching s7 in the background whilst writing this and it’s boring me because I want JOAN GIVE ME JOAN!
Also this gif is perfect ! Not mine but thank u to the creator 👹
———————————————————————————
Joan had kept a careful eye on you throughout the day. The privacy of her office allowed it—brief glances at the security feed on her phone, each one followed by the faintest smirk at the sight of your trembling body. You had impressed her.
She would never say it.
On the drive home, she adjusted the settings—turning the vibrations higher without hesitation—before tossing her phone into her handbag and returning her attention to the road.
She was curious to see what state you’d be in.
⸻
Time had long since lost meaning for you. All you knew was the ache—deep, consuming, relentless. Your wrists burned from the restraints, your body trembling under the strain, desperate for release.
The sound of footsteps outside the locked door snapped your head up.
Each step sent a cold rush through your veins.
She was here.
The door unlocked, and your governor stepped inside. Joan paused briefly, lifting a hand to brush her hair back—loose now, softer than before. She looked tired, but her composure remained intact, sharp as ever. Still… there was something else there.
If you didn’t know her better, you might have thought she was pleased.
The higher setting had long since pushed you past pleasure. It was too much—painful, overwhelming—yet your body still betrayed you, intoxicated by it, by her.
Your breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly, drawing her gaze. Joan stepped closer, taking in the sight of you—your heaving breasts, your slick thighs, the way your body responded despite itself.
Her bare hand rose, fingers brushing lightly along your throat.
“Well, well… it seems you’ve had quite an amusing day.” Her voice was calm, measured. “Did you miss me?”
You strained toward her touch, a broken whimper slipping past your lips. “Y-yes, Governor… I’m so glad you’re back.”
Her hand drifted lower, flattening against your chest before trailing further down. The mere thought of her touching you there made your body tense, overwhelmed.
“Did you learn how it feels… to give up control?”
Her fingers grazed over your swollen, sensitive cunt, barely there, yet it was enough to make your breath hitch.
“Mmm—” Words failed you, your mind too clouded, your body too consumed by sensation.
“Yes, Governor… I did.”
She moved then, not lingering. Her fingers hooked around the loop of the vibrator, slowly pulling it free. The overstimulation made your body jolt, a sharp edge of sensation cutting through you—but then—
Nothing.
She turned it off.
“Good girl.”
Relief washed over you so suddenly it made you laugh, breathless and unsteady.
Her eyes flicked up at the sound. In any other moment, she would have corrected that—punished the lapse.
This time, she didn’t.
“Let’s get you down.”
Joan stepped behind you, her movements precise as she lowered the rope and began untying your wrists. You hissed softly as the blood returned, the sting sharp, but she didn’t pause.
Still… there was a gentleness to her touch. Subtle, controlled—but there.
Different.
Your arms fell to your sides, weak and heavy. Her hand came up, brushing your cheek, her thumb catching faint tear tracks you hadn’t realised were there.
Her gaze lingered—your lips, your face—before she leaned in.
The kiss was brief. Soft. Controlled.
But undeniably there.
A quiet sound escaped you, melting into it, and when she pulled back, she noted the way you trembled.
“Follow me.”
You obeyed without hesitation, your steps unsteady, legs weak beneath you. The scent of lavender reached you before the sight did, along with the soft sound of running water.
She led you into the bathroom—warm, elegant, lit by candlelight. A large bath sat waiting, filled with bubbles, steam curling gently in the air.
Joan’s arms came around you, steadying you as she guided you into the water.
The warmth enveloped your body instantly, soothing the ache, easing the tension that had consumed you for hours. A quiet sigh left you as you sank into it, your muscles finally beginning to relax.
Peace, at last.
She knelt beside the bath, rolling up her sleeves before dipping her fingers into the water, idly swirling it.
“You did well today, Y/N.”
There it was.
Not praise—never that.
But close enough.
“You deserve this. Relax.” A pause. “I’ll be back soon.”
You already missed her before she even stood, the absence settling in too quickly, too deeply. The need for her presence clung to you, overwhelming and constant.
But the warmth, the quiet, the exhaustion…
Your eyes drifted shut.
And for the first time that day, your body finally gave in—sleep taking you gently as the water cradled you.
————————————————————————
The rest of the night blurred into something distant and hazy. You weren’t sure how you’d ended up here—how you’d made it into her bed—but the feeling of silk against your skin grounded you, the faint scent of lavender still clinging to your body.
Your eyes fluttered open, then closed again.
This wasn’t the same room.
Panic flickered briefly in your chest before settling into something quieter.
Her room.
You turned your head slightly, catching the soft glow of light spilling from what you assumed was the en-suite. The sound of running water filled the silence—steady, calming—paired with the faintest hum.
Joan.
The water stopped.
Time stretched again, your body still heavy, your mind slow to catch up, until finally the bathroom door opened. You kept your eyes barely shut, just enough to watch without being caught.
She stepped out, her hair damp, clinging to her skin. A dark burgundy towel was wrapped securely around her body, her movements unhurried as she brushed through her wet hair. The soft hum continued—something classical, no doubt.
Of course it was.
Your breath caught.
You let your eyes close fully again, feigning sleep, your thoughts racing despite your stillness. This couldn’t be real. You were in her bed. She had just stepped out of the shower—
Which meant she was…
Heat rushed through you, and it took everything in you to remain still beneath the sheets, to keep your breathing even.
Don’t ruin it.
You listened instead—the quiet rhythm of her moving around the room, drawers opening and closing, fabric shifting. Then, finally—
The bed dipped.
You stayed perfectly still, eyes shut, not daring to move. A part of you feared that if you acknowledged this—if you pushed too far—she would pull back. That she would become the version of herself you knew best.
Cold. Sharp. Untouchable.
This… this was something else.
Something fragile.
Something you didn’t want to lose.
But curiosity—bravery, perhaps—got the better of you.
You turned slowly, carefully, until you faced her.
Joan sat upright against the headboard, her bedside lamp casting a warm glow over her. Glasses rested low on her nose as she read, her damp hair falling loosely over her shoulders. The dressing-gown she wore softened her—made her seem almost… approachable.
It was jarring.
You stared.
She turned a page, completely unfazed.
“It’s rude to stare.”
Her voice was soft—but the authority beneath it hadn’t gone anywhere.
You bit your lip. “I’m sorry, Governor.”
“Joan.”
She closed her book and placed it neatly on the bedside table before finally looking at you.
“You may call me Joan in these moments.”
Joan.
You repeated it quietly, tasting the name, warmth blooming in your chest at what she implied.
These moments.
You smiled faintly. “Joan.”
Her gaze lingered on you, slow and deliberate.
“What are you thinking, little mouse?”
You shifted closer, turning fully onto your side, your head sinking into the pillow before lifting again to meet her eyes.
“This is…” You hesitated. “Strange.”
Her brow lifted slightly.
“But—” you rushed, “—nice. I love when you’re mean. God, I crave it… but I never thought I’d enjoy this side of you too.”
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Joan tilted her head back, letting out a soft, breathy laugh—rare, unguarded. Her hand reached out, fingers slipping into your hair, stroking gently.
“Believe me,” she murmured, “I am well aware of your preferences.”
Her touch lingered.
“But if you are to be in my home—” her fingers tightened slightly, “—as mine… I will take care of you as well.”
Your breath hitched.
Mine.
Heat pooled low in your stomach, your body responding instantly, almost embarrassingly so. Your eyes fluttered at her touch, guilt flickering briefly at the shift in your thoughts—but your body didn’t care.
And neither did she.
Joan’s lips pressed into a thin line, a quiet tsk leaving her.
“Insatiable,” she muttered. “I would have thought today’s… activities would have been enough to keep you satisfied for at least a few days.”
But the heat only grew.
Your breathing deepened, your gaze locking onto hers—silent, pleading.
She saw it.
Of course she did.
Her fingers tightened in your hair just enough to pull a soft whimper from your lips—then stilled.
A pause.
A choice.
“Go on, then,” she said calmly. “Do what you wish.”
You froze.
The permission felt foreign. Wrong, almost.
But you didn’t question it.
Not when she was offering.
You pushed yourself up, the sheets sliding down your body to pool at your waist. Sitting on your knees, you spread your legs slowly, deliberately—for her.
Her eyes darkened.
“Come here.”
You moved without hesitation, crawling across the bed until you straddled her thighs. She watched you closely, something amused flickering beneath her composure as her hands came to your sides, gliding up along your thighs, your hips, your torso.
You straightened slightly, leaning back just enough to give her the full view.
An offering.
Her gaze sharpened.
You met her eyes through your lashes, then began to move—slowly grinding your hips down against her, the silk of her nightdress doing nothing to dull the sensation. A soft moan slipped from your lips as you leaned closer, your breath warm against her skin.
“Please, Joan…” you whispered, lips brushing near hers. “Kiss me.”
She didn’t hesitate.
Her hands slid around your back, pulling you firmly against her as her lips captured yours. The kiss was deep, controlled—entirely hers. Her tongue moved with deliberate dominance, setting the pace, taking what she wanted.
And yet—
She didn’t move further.
Didn’t rush.
She knew this alone was enough.
Your hips continued to grind, your moans spilling into her mouth as your body heated, your skin damp, your mind slipping further under her control. Her hands moved slowly along your back, grounding, steadying, while your movements grew less so.
The kiss stretched on, unhurried, intoxicating.
You finally pulled back for air, breathless, your eyes drinking her in—her glasses still perched perfectly, her gaze fixed on you, filled with something deeper now.
You wanted to stay here.
Forever.
“Lie down.”
The command cut cleanly through the haze.
You obeyed instantly, sliding off her and settling back onto the bed, the sheets twisted beneath you. Joan moved just as quickly, her body hovering over yours, hands braced on either side.
Your breath came fast now, anticipation curling tight in your chest.
She leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to your lips—then her hand closed around your throat.
Not tight.
But certain.
Control reestablished.
A smirk flickered across her face before she lowered her head, her damp hair brushing against your skin as she moved downward. Your chest rose sharply, and she paused—just long enough to glance up at you.
Breathe.
Then she continued.
You lay there, legs falling open instinctively as she settled between them, her hands resting firmly on your thighs. She didn’t move right away.
She watched.
Took you in.
Memorised you like this.
And stored it away.
Her head lowered again, her lips brushing your stomach—slow, deliberate—her tongue trailing lower, lower—
Until finally—
You broke.
Your hands flew to your face, a sound tearing from your throat, somewhere between a sob and a moan.
She started slowly. Painfully slow.
Kissing. Licking. Mapping every inch of you with practiced precision. Your toes curled, your legs shifting, caught between wanting to pull away and desperately needing more.
Her arms hooked beneath your thighs, holding you open, keeping you exactly where she wanted you.
Every movement was controlled.
Measured.
Intentional.
“I can be kind,” she murmured against you.
A slow lick.
“I can be cruel.”
Her teeth grazed your clit, and your hips bucked sharply.
“If you are good to me…”
Another slow drag of her tongue.
“Then I will be good to you.”
This time she didn’t hold back—her mouth closing around your clit, sucking gently, firmly, sending a sharp wave of pleasure through you that made your head spin.
“Are you going to be good?”
Again.
“Y-yes—yes, I will—I’ll be so good—”
Her breath ghosted over you.
“Mmm. We’ll see.”
Then she gave you exactly what you needed.
Her rhythm built—steady, relentless—her tongue working you with precision, alternating between slow, deep licks and focused attention on your clit. Your body unraveled beneath her, your sounds breaking, your thoughts dissolving into nothing but sensation.
She felt it—the way you tensed, the way you neared—and instead of easing up, she pushed you further.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
Until your hands finally dropped to her hair, fingers tangling weakly, a silent plea she understood.
She slowed.
Stopped.
Pressed a soft, final kiss to your sensitive cunt before rising again, her presence towering over you once more.
Joan leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow kiss.
You tasted yourself.
You smiled.
“Thank you, Joan,” you whispered.
Her thumb brushed your cheek, almost absentmindedly.
“We’re going to get the appeal through. I promise. I’ve been working overtime to pay for the new lawyer.”
You say this to Sarah inside the Wentworth visitation room. You've been visiting her every Tuesday. She's been detained for a crime she didn’t commit. Today, you’re wearing a pastel knit sweater, your fingers trembling, uncomfortable with the atmosphere inside Wentworth. Opposite you is your friend Sarah, dressed in a teal tracksuit.
Sarah lets out a hollow laugh. “Don’t… This place… it’s not what you think. Don’t come too close. I’ll be okay.” She forces out a faint, trembling smile.
You wipe away a stray tear, seeing your friend in this state. You don’t know what it’s like inside Wentworth, but you know your best friend isn’t safe here.
Black and white. High contrast. The CCTV monitor flickers in the Governor’s office.
Joan catches a glimpse of your face. Soft eyes pooling with tears, a gesture so profoundly innocent it feels like a sin in her prison. You look small. Vulnerable. Like a misplaced porcelain doll in this gilded cage.
Her gloved hand rests on her organized mahogany desk. She leans forward as the light from the screen reflects in her eyes, turning them into cold, polished gates. Joan’s thumb traces the outline of your jaw on the monitor.
Joan whispers, “So soft. Like silk in a briar patch. Who are you?”
She watches you stand to leave, smoothing down your skirt. Joan’s eyes narrow, tracking the sway of your hips, the way you seem to shrink under the guards’ gaze.
“You don’t belong here.”
Her eyes land on your friend.
The next day, Joan sits behind her desk, the epitome of power. Sarah enters her office.
“Good morning, Ms. Davidson,” Joan greets with a charming smile, looking up from her paperwork.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Sarah sheepishly takes the seat in front of the Governor.
“How’s your stay so far, Ms. Davidson?” Joan says, but she is quickly cut off by Sarah.
“Why did you call me here, Governor? What do you want?”
Joan leans back in her leather seat, a gentle smile playing at her lips.
“Your friend. The one who visits on Tuesdays. She seems… devoted.”
Sarah’s brows furrow, her defenses slowly rising at the Governor’s sudden inquiry about you.
“Leave her out of this. What do you want?”
Joan sighs, aligning the carefully lined pencils on her desk.
“I’m offering you a trade. Increased visitation. A private room. Perhaps even… a recommendation for early parole.”
Sarah’s eyes widen, a spark of desperate hope igniting. But then she remembers that Joan Ferguson does not dangle freedom in front of someone unless she wants something in exchange. Sarah waits.
“All I require is information.”
“About what?”
“Everything. About your friend. Where she lives, where she works… every detail of the life she leads outside these walls.”
Sarah’s eyes begin to well up. “No. I’m not selling her out to you. I know who you are, Ferguson. I know how evil you are. I know how filthy you are.”
Joan looks Sarah straight in the eyes and smiles at her kindly.
“Do you? Think about it, Ms. Davidson. Mr. Stewart!”
Jake Stewart opens the Governor’s office door.
“Insubordination. Take her to the Slot.”
You continue visiting Sarah at Wentworth for the next four months, unaware of what she endures in the Slot every night at the hands of the Governor. As the nights pass, Joan becomes more relentless in trying to make Sarah break.
Today, sunlight hits the pavement in the city. You are power-walking, clutching a portfolio along the busy street. You look professional, nervous, and utterly beautiful.
Suddenly—THWACK.
A tall, imposing figure in a charcoal suit steps into your path, and you feel hot liquid splash across your chest.
“Oh! Oh my God! I’m so sorry!”
A massive dark stain blooms across your pristine white blouse. It’s a disaster.
The person you bumped into gasps, her eyes wide with “horror” and apology. When she speaks, you finally snap back into reality.
“Oh, good heavens! I apologize. I was looking at my watch. I’m a clumsy fool.”
Oh…
You’re taken aback by her. Her tall frame. Her sharp eyes. Her sharp yet soft complexion. Her lips. Her—
“My interview… I’m so, so, so sorry. I should’ve been more careful. It’s in ten minutes. It’s right in that building. Oh no, I look like a mess. I—”
Joan watches you adoringly but masks it with faux concern.
“Please, let me make it right. I can’t let you go in like that.”
Joan gently guides you into a secluded alleyway and begins unbuttoning her own crisp white long-sleeved shirt. Underneath, she wears a black silk camisole that emphasizes the powerful, lean lines of her arms and shoulders.
Damn. Who is this woman?
You start blushing and awkwardly look upward, noticing a cat sitting on a windowsill watching you both.
“Take it. Please. It’ll be a little oversized, but it’ll look gorgeous on your frame.”
Joan begins unbuttoning your shirt and draping hers over your body.
“I can’t just—”
Joan doesn’t listen, continuing to dress you. Her fingers linger against your skin a second too long.
“Go. You can do it!”
She pulls you out of the alleyway and back into the open. Joan stares at your coffee-stained shirt in her hands, holding it with a victorious glimmer in her eyes as she walks away.
“Your résumé is… unconventional.” Mr. Henderson, a senior manager, sits across from you behind a glass table. “You’ve jumped from hospitality to paralegal work. Why should I hire someone who seems to be in a constant state of flux?”
Your heart is still pounding from the rush. The feel of the kind, sexy, captivating woman’s $500 shirt slightly oversized on you gives you a boost of borrowed power.
“Well, Mr. Henderson, I like to think of it as ‘versatility.’” You flash a bright, charming grin. “In hospitality, I learned how to handle a bridezilla who lost her bouquet. If I can negotiate with a woman in a white dress who hasn’t eaten in six hours, I’m pretty sure I can handle a disgruntled litigant.”
Mr. Henderson’s lip twitches.
“And this role requires someone who is meticulous. High-pressure. Can you handle the heat?”
You take a deep breath, letting the nerves settle, answering as honestly and confidently as you can.
“Sir, on the way here, a stranger accidentally drenched my favorite blouse in scalding coffee. Instead of crying, which was my first, second, and third choice. I ended up in an alleyway, did a high-speed costume change into this shirt, and made it to your lobby with three minutes to spare.”
I have nothing else to lose, so here goes nothing.
“If that’s not handling the heat while maintaining a professional aesthetic, I don’t know what is.”
Henderson laughs, his chair rocking back slightly. He closes your folder and stands.
“I like you. Most people come in here terrified of me without me even saying a word. You’re hired. Don’t make me regret it.”
You stare at him, speechless. “I… I won’t, sir. I promise.”
He shakes your hand before heading toward the door. He pauses and turns back.
“Try to keep the coffee inside the cup from now on.”
You push through the heavy glass doors, elated and proud of yourself for acing the interview, and actually getting the job. But then your adrenaline fades, replaced by a sudden realization: I'm still wearing a stranger’s $500 shirt. How am I going to return it? I didn’t even ask for her name.
And there she is.
Joan sits on a bench, a sleek black sedan parked nearby. She’s holding a small paper bag and looking directly at you.
She watches you skip down the steps, your skirt fluttering. She likes that her shirt is on you. She watches as you grow shy upon recognizing her.
Walking toward her feels like prey being drawn toward a predator. She feels the thrill ripple through her body.
“Hi! You’re still here?”
Joan flashes an innocent smile. “I couldn’t very well leave you without your own clothes, could I? I use a portable laundry service for emergencies.”
She hands you the bag. Inside, your white shirt is pristine, pressed, and still warm from the dryer.
“How was your interview, by the way?”
Blushing, you glance at your shoes before forcing yourself to look back up at her.
“This is… incredible. I—uh—want to give yours back, but I can’t exactly strip in the middle of the sidewalk.”
“A fair point,” Joan chuckles.
“I’m Y/N, by the way—”
“Joan. My name is Joan.”
She holds your gaze, but her eyes drift briefly to your lips, your neck, your collarbone.
“As for the shirt… I’m in no rush to part with it if it looks that good on you.”
Joan doesn’t care about the shirt. She cares about inching closer to you, little by little. She watches your reaction, the way you try to hide its effect on you. She counts the seconds as your mind spins through solutions she knows you’ll suggest.
“I have an idea! I mean, it’s a bit weird, but… I live thirty minutes away. Why don’t you come over for a thank-you dinner? Maybe? I can change, give you your shirt back, and I make a mean carbonara. It’s the least I can do for my guardian angel.”
Joan tilts her head as if hesitating.
“Please?”
There it is.
Joan smiles, making your stomach flip.
“Dinner? I’d be delighted.”
You relax at her answer.
“I can give you a ride… if you want.”
“If it’s okay with you.”
She guides you to her car. “Marvelous. You can tell me about your interview on the way.”
She opens the door, and you slide into the leather seat. Everything about her hits you all at once. You think it’s all just coincidence.
But little do you know that’s exactly what she wants you to think.
As Sarah spends the week in Wentworth’s closed infirmary, unconscious.
You don’t know what you’ve just opened the door to.
AN: This is just 6k words of straight p0rn. Absolutely no plot whatsoever but I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: slapping, power imbalance, implied bad ending, smut, eating out, fingering, spanking, cnc, face sitting, choking, kissing, scratching her back, praise, degradation, hair pulling, strap use, double sided strap, betrayal, love confessions, marking, grinding.
Word count: 6,033
Short, jagged nails dig into your jaw, demanding your attention, demanding your eyes to look at her and only her.
“Beg for it.” Her voice strong and husky, one that rattles bones. Such simple words that drip from between vicious lips yet the venom that slides through your mind relaxes you into her hold.
“You know I can’t do that.” It’s barely above a whisper but she hears it, she hears everything. Your body heats in her shadow, standing tall above your quivering body. Your knees digging into the cold cement, the power she holds emanating over you, like a cool protective blanket pushes acceleration through your veins.
“I know you want to let go,” She says as a dare, her lips pulling into a barely noticeable smirk. Her hand releases your jaw moving to cup it softly, rubbing her cold thumb over your lips. Her intention is to unwind your very being, to make you putty in her hands and unwind she does.
“So let go.” She squats in front of you, nose inches from your own. Her perfume, her scent, fills all your senses. That voice is breathy, urging you to let her have you. Her certainty clouds your hesitation, her eyes gazing into yours intently.
“Please governor.” Is all you can say, her presence already making the decision easy. She wants to take your control and you are dying for her to have it, to give it to her willingly. You can barely have time to see it but her lips pull in a full smirk, she’s teasing you. Reminding you of the power imbalance, how she’s the one who holds all the power. Her eyes spur you on, letting you sit in silence.
“Please Joan.” You beg, you whimper. Anything to get her to touch you, to make you forget about the world around you.
“Ah there it is, there's my good girl. Always so eager to please their governor.” You nod pathetically, you can’t help it. Not when you can feel her breath on your lips. Her hand slides over your throat, gently adding pressure.
“Tell me what you want. What does my darling want so dearly that she’s willing to let this whole prison hear how desperate she is, huh?” Joan says, a hint of entertainment in her voice.
“Governer please, I need you inside of me. I’ve been dreaming about you. You visiting me when I'm in the slot, you watching me touch myself on the cameras, moaning your name. I want to taste you Ms.Ferguson. I want you to use my mouth, I want you to use me. Please. I’d do anything for you.” You lean into her hand letting her eyes take you in. How you bottom lip pulls between your teeth, how your eyes are glossed over, how they sparkle with a willingness to endure.
“Please.” That’s all it took for Joan to break. Her lips softly connected with your own. She wasn’t going to give you rough like you asked, not right away at least. Your body wanted to be listened to, to be navigated with confidence. Your body wanted her, her hands, her mouth.
She wants you needier, she wants to be shown how much you’ve been craving her touch. Her hands moved from your throat to your hair line, your lips move in sink before she slowly moves away to stand, casting a shadow over you once more. Your heart pounds. Those eyes appraising every inch of your body.
“Get up darling, we’re going to my office.” Her palm cuts through her shadow waiting for you. Expecting your smooth palm to hold hers. You follow her lead, putting your hand in hers and standing up, wiping off your knees. Her grip on your hand is steady as she guides you to her office, closing the door and hitting the button to shut all the curtains and plunging you into darkness.
“I’m going to lead you to my couch okay? Then I’m going to retrieve a surprise I brought for you, understood?” You nod in agreement and she stayed true to her word. The couch was cold black leather. Even in the dark I knew black leather is Joan’s kryptonite, it’s clean and elegant. Her two favorite aesthetics. The couch was cool against your thighs, leaving you to your thoughts as she moves to a small locked box attached to the wall.
Her footsteps are quiet, almost too quiet but her gloved hand now running up the back of your neck was an indication of where she was. Gloved fingers slip through the hairs on the nape of your neck, tugging your head back, putting a strain on your neck. Exposing it to her, making sure you not only know her power she holds but you feel it. That you feel it deep within your chest. It sparks your wants, your needs, your deepest desires for her.
“This is what’s going to happen my darling. You’re going to ride my cock, I made sure to pick your favorite one, I will fuck you to the brink and push you even further, you will listen to my every command. Is that understood love?” She wasn’t asking a question, she was telling you to understand.
“Yes, Governor." You hiss when she pulls your hair just a little bit harder, an added punctuation.
“Good. Now what’s the safe word we agreed on? I do not wish to take it easy on you tonight. You have tempted me too much.” Joan asks reassuringly. She wants to wreck you, to use your body but she loves you too deeply. A confession she will not yet tell. One she can not, it would risk your life, she is too broken.
“Dragon.” There was a pause in your voice. A pause to check–in with yourself. Joan’s ready to take you, all of you, and you needed to make sure you were ready for such a commitment.
“I do not wish for you to take it easy on me.” You admit, and the fire in Joan’s eyes explodes.
“As you wish.” Joan sits next to you, strap standing high with confidence radiating off of her. Her nimble fingers work to start taking off the leather gloves once she releases your locks.
“No, please. Keep them on for me, please.” You plea, taking the initiative to crawl into her lap and prepare the awaiting strap. A line of spit leaves your addictive lips, dripping onto the tip, slowly sliding down her length.
“You are positively naughty, inmate.” She spat with faux disdain.
“Don’t just sit there. Put that mouth to good use, why don’t you.” She says, guiding you quickly to the floor and pushing your mouth to the faux cock. You’re quick to wrap your lips around her member, taking as much as you can into your mouth. Your head bobs, laud noises filling the room. Those gloved fingers tangle into your hair holding your head in place while her hips jet forward, sliding the cock further down your throat. Joan’s moans fill the room, like she could feel every inch of your mouth and tongue. Your hands grip Joan's clothed thighs, digging your nails into them to ground yourself, to wrap your mind around this. That the fantasy you’ve had so many times has come true and will continue to do so.
“Yes, fuck. Keep going, my love.” You moan around her, the nic-name warming your core. So you keep going. You go hard, taking her full length, and reaching up to massage those plump breasts, tugging at her taunt nipples.
“That mouth is heavenly, my darling. Making your Governor cum just from how much of a pretty slut you are. That’s it, love. Only a little bit more.” She removes her fingers from your hair to grip at the couch. You pull back, circling your tongue around her tip before taking her whole length once more. You do it repeatedly. Till the Governor roughly pulls your head from the strap, making you look her in the eyes. There is something in those dark eyes of hers, something viscous. Like she wants to eat you alive.
“Get on.” She demanded, eyeing your body. You stand, making sure to touch her thighs as leverage. Hoping to not be punished for it later. You slowly unzip your sweatshirt, running your fingers between your breasts before turning around to discard the garment. Your hands rub over your hips, slowly easing your pants down your legs. Black leather finger tips dig into your hips pulling you backwards with such a force you’re no longer fully on your feet, those strong hands are the only thing keeping you up.
Joan expertly guides her strap into your awaiting cunt, only holding you with one arm. Your legs find their play on top of Joan's, and her hand is quick to wrap around your throat, pulling your back against her chest. Just enough for her lips to ghost your ear pulling a pathetic moan from you.
“I said get on, not undress in such a manner.” Her forearms lift you slightly, comfortably resting your thighs on top of them. Your brain is too foggy to realize her intention until she lifts you with ease just to quickly put you down, effectively pumping her cock in and out of your wetness. You moan loudly, you can’t help it. With her hands all over you, you can’t focus on anything but her. How her hands feel gripping your thighs from behind, her arms holding you with such ease, her breath hitching behind you, those beautiful breasts rubbing against your back. She was everywhere.
“Awe what’s wrong love? Do I feel too good you can’t even think? Come on my darling, use your words. How does it feel?” It feels like torture for you to answer her, to find the words when her cock is all you can think about.
“I- fu- I can’t.” Her strap doesn’t slow, her hands move to just your hips. Lifting you slightly just to pull you back down hard, like she's trying to chase her own high. Like she will never get enough of how you feel or the little noises you make.
“Yes you can, My stunning little whore. Always willing to listen to every word I speak. Isn’t that right?” Joan chuckles a deep dreadful laugh. She knows who has the control in this moment and she loves it.
“Yes, yes Governor.” You move your hips with her pace, drawing out more pleasure. You’re a moaning mess for her, drool easing from the side of your lips. She’s trying to fuck you dumb and it’s working. Her hands let go of your hips all together, one arm wraps around your waist while the other hand grips your jaw pulling your face to her own, you can even feel her breath against the corner of your lips.
“Grind.” It was one command, one word. Plain and simple, you just nod and do as told. The strap moves perfectly within you, hitting that sensitive spot.
“That’s it, darling. Get yourself off.” Her lips touch yours as she speaks.
“Open your mouth.” You do as told and take the liberty to stick your tongue out so she has full access, she angles your head more towards her and she spits into your mouth as the hand around your waist moves to rub tight circles around your clit. Your hips jolt up, your body feeling like lava.
“Kiss me.” It is a quiet demand. A demand that covers the fear of you disappearing right in front of her. Her mind is fighting her but all that goes away when your lips meet hers, all the negative thoughts go radio silent and there is only you. You pull away just to look her in the eyes, to show how thoroughly she's pleasuring you.
“I’ve dreamt about this Joan. You’re making me feel so good.” Joan’s fingers rub tighter and faster circles around your clit, a reward for your good behavior. You back arches off her chest as her lips crash into you, muffling your moan. Her tongue invades your mouth and pushes you close to the edge. Joan notices the shift of your body, how your hips start to spasm, your thighs shaking. Yet much to your demise her lips detach from yours just to say your favorite saying.
“Cum for me.” She says it in that cold, dark, deep tone that hits you right in your clit. A tone that makes you give up your control, to give her that privilege willingly.
So you listen, you gush around her cock, instinctively squeezing your legs shut, trying to stay on that high as long as possible.
“How pretty you are, coming undone so perfectly for me.” Joan’s hands move to your hips to gently and slowly remove you from her now soaked strap. She’s quick to remove the harness and pull you back into her lap, both your legs over hers and your head resting in the crook of her neck. Warm gloved hand rubs circles across your thighs.
“You did such a good job for me. The way your thighs shake around me, how your cunt drips and clenches around my cock drives me wild darling.” Her hand wedges between your thighs, slowly inching up your inner thighs.
“You’re just so beautiful when you cum. Don’t you think?” The tip of Joan’s leather pointer finger found your swollen clit, rubbing a soft circle around it. Not truly touching the swollen bud.
“Yes Joan.” Her fingers stop all movements, a whine pulls from your lips. Even when you are sensitive Joan was not close enough, you needed her inside of you, you needed her hands all over your body.
“Come on doll, you know that’s not my name. Try again for me.” Her tone was soft but you knew she was testing your mental clarity. She wanted you to mess up.
“Yes Ms. Ferguson.” You knew that was the wrong answer when an annoyed sign came from the women you were sitting on. Her hand turned your whole body face down before your brain could even catch up. Her hand met your naked behind with a sharp slap. The sound echoed through the dark room.
“You get two chances to say the right name before I put you in a wet cell, naked and cold. Try. Again, whore.” You whine pushing your ass further into her hand.
“Yes, Governor.” Her hand met your ass once again making you moan into the soft pleather of the couch. You clench around nothing, too busy imagining her fingers ramming into you.
“Say it again.” She’s stern. She’s not Joan anymore, this is the Governor. Ruthless and ready to take what truly belongs to her.
“Yes, Governor. I won’t do it again I promise.” You knew you shouldn’t be making promises, not with how foggy your brain is but you really wanted to please her. . You wanted to not have to think. You were in her hands and that was enough for you.
“That’s right.” A slight movement came from her before her leather covered fingers entered you with no resistance. A moan tears through you as your hips go searching for more friction.
“It’s too much.” It was, her pace was picking up. Her thumb caresses your throbbing clit and it was too much. Too many sensations. You try to move away, you really did but it was no use compared to the sheer strength she possessed. My fingertip gripped at the arm rest overhead, your knees trying to find a good place to sit but she didn’t stop. She only went faster.
“You can take it.” Joan wasn’t one of many words but she made them count. You could hear how wet you were. Joan only smirked, seeing you a mess over her. Having you in her lap as she pulls multiple orgasms out of you. The thought of someone else touching you spikes something in her.
Her fingers leave you, leaving you to feel empty and shaking.
“Sit up.” You groan as you move from laying over her lap. She takes this chance to sink to her knees right in front of the couch. When you're barely sitting up, she’s between your legs, she puts your legs on her shoulders. Her big hands grip your hips and pull your dripping cunt to her desperate lips.
“I just can’t help myself.” She chuckles lowly.
“Wha-“ you can’t even get the sentence out before her tongue devours you. The flat of her tongue licks up your slit, taking in the flavor of you. The palms of your hands dig into the couch trying to get her to let up, she can’t, not with her determination. That talented tongue circles your clit before licking down to your entrance. Her tongue enters you as you try to escape the overwhelming pleasure.
Joan’s arm tightens around your thighs, locking you in place. With her strength you can not move an inch, there’s no fighting when she will always win. Her nails bite into your skin, making your back arch off the couch.
“Governor please. I can’t do it.” The governor hums into your clit, sending a jolt through your body once more. The build up is intense. You feel it in your stomach, your clit, the coil deep within your core. Her mouth is all over you, moaning at how good you taste. Her fingers tap your hip, a signal to let yourself go, to let her have you wholeheartedly. You crash, you can feel it gushing out of you but she keeps going. Even when your thigh crushes her skull, her tongue still works diligently.
This is Joan’s favorite place. Your perfectly plump thighs around her head, her whole world right in front of her. Each lick, each taste, is getting her more soaked. She imagines all those times you’re between her thighs, drawing her to the edge. How beautifully your mouth works on her. How you ask so politely, how you listen to her body. Something pinged in Joan’s heart, she wanted to have this, to have you, for the rest of her life.
“I love you Joan.” You moan loudly, you couldn’t help it. Those words stopped Joan’s whole world. She paused, only long enough to process the words before her mouth is on you again. This time there’s something else within her passion. All the insecurities that plagued her mind were gone, only filled with the love you held for her.
When your cum drips into her mouth for another time she pulls away. Gently rubbing the indent her nails made on your thighs.
“I love you more than anything.” Her tone was soft. Joan pulls you down to the floor with her, having you straddle her lap. Her arms wrap around your body, fully enclosing you in her scent. Your arms wrap around her, kissing her jaw, her neck, anything you can reach. Partially licking the left over cum up.
“Can we try something?” You ask nuzzling into her now ruined uniform.
“Of course my darling.” Her clean hand cups your face, letting her thumb slide over your cheek. You blush at the attention.
“Can you get the double sided strap? I want to ride you, I want you to use me. Please, Governor.” You say it in that breathy tone that you know always gets to her. You feel her hips shift under you.
“As my darling wish. One thing though, you will not be riding me. I want to pound into that pretty pussy until you're scratching and begging for me to stop.” Joan whispers the last part in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“I know it’s odd but can we try another something new?” Joan nods, rubbing you back to encourage further detail. You play with her hair out working through the doubt of her saying no to your request.
“Can you slap me? Or my tits? Or blindfold me? I’ve just always thought about it and I’ve been wanting to try it with you. I love your hands and everything so I thought slapping would be fun, if you don't like the idea that’s okay, I understand.” You search her eyes still looking for Joan to think the idea is unsettling but she smiles and rubs your arms.
“I can certainly try slapping, if you don’t like it then please do not hesitate to tell me. As you're the blindfold we will have to wait for another time. I want you to see what I do to you. Now if you would sit on the couch while I get everything ready.” She smiles confidently at you. Your body listens without you having to process Joan’s underlying sharp tone. Your arms shake, your legs almost give out as you slump into the couch.
“That’s my good girl.” Her lips meet your thighs in a quick peck on her way up. You almost fall asleep right on the couch, her perfume all over you, her scent on the couch. It felt like a warm blanket.
“Don’t go falling asleep on me. Get your sexy ass up and go lay on the desk, sweetie.” Her voice cuts through the tiredness. You do as told even when your legs threaten to give out. Your finger tips dig into the black sleek desk, holding yourself up.
“That’s such a good girl.” You whip around only to be touching noses with the Governor. You sit on the desk, surely soaking it from your last activities. Joan’s hand rests on your sternum, tenderly guiding you down.
“I put on what you requested dear. Just let me do the work.” Joan’s voice was kind but you knew better. She’s playing with you, your mind, giving you that false security. She massages your clit as she watches your gears turn. Successfully distracting you from what she has planned, her cock sliding into your soaked pussy.
Joan pumps into you ruthlessly , not giving you time to adjust to the sear size of her. Her hips snap with such precision you try to move away from the pleasure. You hip lift off the desk, your arm attempting to pull you away. Joan’s strong hands stop you, fingers roughly digging into your thighs only letting go to land a stern slap to your cheek. You moan, loud. You let everything out, you’ve lost all control of how your body is moving, how your volume continues to escalate. Joan rips orgasms from you, over and over again. Hitting your third one as her hands come up to grab your shoulder and the angle shifts. She hits something deep within you, sending you spiraling in pleasure.
“Please Governor, please. I can’t take it, I can’t take it. It’s too big, too much.” You beg desperately. Your nails dig into her flesh, her forearm tensing around you.
“Shut up and take it. You wanna make your Governor proud, right? Only a couple more.” Her tone is deathly sweet. Joan’s body bends over you, her lips wrapping around a painfully hard nipple. Your back arches high off the desk, pushing your chest further into her mouth. She moans, those deep sinful groans, vibrating your nipple, sending waves of pleasure through your system.
“Just a little bit longer, I'm so close, baby. You like making me cum, huh?” Her voice is shaking as she pounds into you, her hips hitting your clit over and over again.
“Yes yes yes, fuck.” Your hands scratch at her naked back, leaving welts in their leave. The pain only fuels her. When she looks at you your eyes are closed, your breath is labored, a shen of sweat glistening over your skin. You look like a goddess.
“Look at me.” She says lowly but you're too lost in the feeling of her. Her hand meets your cheek once again, not enough to hurt just to get your attention. Your eyes meet hers out of shock, they plead for Joan to give you everything, to taste you every chance she gets, to feel the inside of your now swollen cunt. The thought of taking you, making you full hers only pushes her closer to her orgasm.
“Yes Governor, you feel so good in me. Breed me, please, please cum in me.” You don’t know why you said it but it felt so right. You wanted Joan in every crevice of your being.
Those words are exactly what Joan needed, her hips shuttered before her top half rested on your chest, the strap coming to stop in you only after riding out your orgasm. Her lips kiss at your chest, up your neck to your lips. You met her in a lazy kiss. Just needing something soft.
“I’m going to move, is that okay?” She asks intently, gently moving a piece of sweaty hair from your face. You nod, laying your head fully on the desk and taking a deep breath, relaxing your body. When Joan moves out of you, you hiss in soreness. You're left to come back to reality as she quickly discards the faux cock and moves her arms under you, lifting you to the couch. A place where she lays you down. She placed a small pillow under your head before slowly releasing your head.
“How are you feeling?” Her thumb caresses your cheek as you smile up at her.
“I feel really good, you were so amazing. Thank you for trying what I asked. I just have another request. I can not seem to get enough of you and I really really want to taste you. Please Joan.” You pout your lip giving her the most innocent eyes you can. She looks like she might say yes but Joan chuckles, shaking her head.
“My horney horney darling. We can do that another day. Perhaps this weekend. You are also very welcome, I’m more than happy to oblige, thank you for taking me so well. I truly love how your body reacts to me.” Her finger tips massage your scalps. Her free hand grabbing the extra water bottle from the side table, letting you grab it and take a small sip before speaking.
“I think it is simply because I can never get enough of you. Can’t I please taste you?” You hand the water bottle back to her. Your hand rubs her thighs, trying to get Joan to bend.
“You can sit in my face. It’s a win win. I won’t move, I’m guessing that's what you want me to do, and I get to eat my lady out.” She eyes you with uncertainty.
“Yes, you got me there, that is what I expect of you darling. Get comfortable.” She gives in so easily. You are so giddy with excitement, a huge smile is plastered across your face as you scoot down to give her knees enough room. The couch wide enough for you to practically be laying down.
“I’m ready. Are you ready?” Your hand reaches hers, gliding over the back of her hand. Reassurance that you are okay and you want to please her. That you won’t leave her side. She smiles warmly at you.
“I’m ready.” Milky thighs engulf your skull, her left over cum dripping onto your lips. You couldn’t wait any longer, there were too many late nights picturing your mouth on her once again.Your arms instinctually snake their way around Joan’s thighs pulling her down to your mouth.
Joan's hands quickly reach out, her fingers dig into the couch, the others running through your hair. A loud moan heaved from her lips. Her hips jerk against your tongue, your hand massages her thighs, working through her tenseness. Your tongue circling her sensitive bud, her taste filling your mouth, moaning at the taste alone.
“Fuck.” Joan’s voice is down right sinful. Those fingers in your hair hold your head in place as her hips grind into your tongue, your moans vibrating through Joan’s body causing her heart to race, her thighs to shake.
“Yes, right there. You feel so good darling, don’t you dare stop. Suck my clit for me baby.” She throws her head back as your lips suck her clit. Only letting go to slip your tongue into her entrance. Your arm moves over her thighs to reach her clit. Even with your forearm cramping, your fingers find the throbbing bud and rub tight circles around it.
Joan hums in appreciation, her thighs shake. The circles get tighter and tighter as your tongue moves faster, so desperate to make her cum. Her breathing is rough above you, her fingers are no longer entangled into your hair, now digging into the leather of the couch. When you look up her head is thrown back, her tits sitting so perfectly, a sweat shine contours each perfect groove. Those powerdry nipples hardened against the cool room. Your fingers work faster, moving through the pain.
“I’m so close, baby.” Joan lets out a cry, one of profuse pleasure, one of overstimulation. She clenches around your tongue fully coming undone. She collapses on top of you, her body overtaking yours. Her thigh moved to straddle your thighs, her chest meeting yours.
“That was wonderful, I had forgotten how talented you are with that tongue. You knew all the right spots.” Her lips lazily kiss at your neck while your hands rub at her, what you can imagine, sore hips. You two laid like that for a while, Joan teeth grazing the sensitive part of your neck, sucking and nipping to create small hickeys anywhere she can reach. She pulls any sounds she can out of you.
Her head pulls back to take you in, the way you smile at her, how your eyes sparkle with admiration, how your hands never falter when she looks into your eyes.
“I love you too.” She says, responding to your earlier statement. You just smile even bigger, your eyes glossing over. You wrap your arms around her, rubbing her back and playing with the ends of her hair.
“I love you more than anything. I know we have to keep us a secret while I serve my time but when I’m out in a month can we go public? I have my old apartment already in line and a job as a bartender.” You say nervously. It has been one of the few times you’ve brought this up, needing extra reassurance. You may not know why but Joan has always been sweet to you, seeming like she has a soft spot for you.
“Don’t be silly dear. You are more than welcome to stay with me, it is a quite lonely space when alone but keep the job, you always feel better when you get out of the house and socialize. I’ve been thinking about our future and I want to marry you one day darling. I want to have a life with you, and maybe some animals. You’ve added so much joy to my life, even when I am away from you I find myself smiling. I’ve never experienced this kind of love.” Joan has never been subtle and even now there is no uncertainty in her voice, no room for you to have your doubts.
“Joan, you have no idea how much that pleases me to hear. Ever since I met you I couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way you commanded a room, how everyone respects you. Even when you hold all the power at work you leave it there. You are so kind to me, you go above and beyond to make sure I’m safe and comforted. You held my heart since day one and wouldn’t have it any other way.” You confess, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and rubbing her back.
“You’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever met. I just- I can’t get enough of you.” She chuckles at that.
She flips the two of you over until you’re partially laying on top of her. You could stay like this forever but the alarm for five minutes till cell checks rings, dragging you back to the dreadful reality of things. Your lips meet in a hurry as she sits the both of you up.
“I’ll escort you. Even though I’d love to have my mouth on you one more time.” She moans trying to drag you back to her when you attempt to fully stand up. The moan alone sends shivers through your body.
“As much as I would love that Governor I will be slotted if I don’t go but I will give you this for your understanding.” Your fingers venture in between your legs, gliding through your still soaked center, only to find their way between the Governor’s lips. Joan’s pupils are blown as she stares at you. You feel her skillful tongue work around your digits, licking every inch in them. She lets them go with a pop only when there is nothing left to lick.
“How delightful, I will destroy your pussy next time. I can promise you that.” She’s quick to stand, pushing her body into your own, wrapping a hand roughly against your throat, preventing the air from flowing.
“Do not let anyone touch you, not a hug, not a kiss on the forehead, nothing, you are mine and mine only. Is that understood?” She was quiet but her voice held so much power.
“Yes, Governor. I only belong to you.” You rasp out. Your heart raced, a spike of excitement vibrating through your stomach. You loved how possessive she was over you and your body, you loved how she touches you, how she gets into your head.
“Good girl. Now go before they get you.” Joan says in a chuckle. She releases your neck and gives your butt a small tap as you get dressed.
Her uniform is practically fully on when you are done dressing.
“You look so hot in uniform, I should grind into your thigh and cum all over you. That would be so hot to see how I ruined your uniform, okay by love you!” You say as you run out, careful not to be caught by those strong arms. The alarm rings again, marking one minute till cell check.
“You were almost late… Again.” Franky says as you round the corner.
“My apologies, the Governor wanted to talk about the garden I wanted to start.” You smiled sickly sweet at her. Now standing in front of your own cell.
“More like she wanted a bite.” Boomer laughs motioning to you hickey covered neck. Despite the slight jab you can’t help but laugh along.
“You could say I’m the sweetest fruit in the bunch.” That got everyone giggling.
“Okay that’s enough, we already have the screws up our ass we don’t need to give them more reasons to be going through our shit. Is that understood fruity? You can’t be risking our unit like that. Do you really think Ferguson will give a shit about you if they found booze in your cell?” Franky implants the doubt in your head. From your knowledge there’s nothing in your cell, but you haven’t been here all day. Someone could’ve tampered with it.
“Okay line up girls.” One of the screws says
“God what happened to you?” They question eyeing your neck.
“Wouldn’t you like to know fucker.” You spat at him. You eye Franky every time a screw turns their back, but all she does is smirk back at you. It was a mistake telling these girls about yourself and Ferguson, a huge mistake. If the Governor finds out you told you fear what she’ll do. Would she feel betrayed by you? All color drains from your face at the realization. Would she value this job over you? Over your connection?
There’s no way right? Too many thoughts fill your head as the screws leave and the lights shut off, leaving all of you in your cells.
Hours pass before your door opens and you see Ferguson standing with two screws, all where gloves. The governor wearing leather ones.
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