This is all terrible unrepentant smut from me for Barb, as a present, since she kind of sort of liked the idea of a thing. I hope I wrote Crowley’s character well enough but idek. I was just going to send this to her privately but fuck it got really long so that’s not really feasible at this point. So.
1886 WORDS AND NSFW SMUTTERY, ADVENTURE BELOW OF YOUR OWN ACCORD. Crowley/Salome with some DD/lg dom things going on and a collar and leash. OH GOD THIS IS REALLY RAUNCHY BY MY STANDARDS AND HOLY FUCK I SHOULDN’T POST THIS ON THE INTERNET, basically.
Salome hadn’t bothered to press on why he’d suddenly appeared. In fact, she knew better than to ask that sort of question at all, knowing that the likelihood of receiving an answer was likely nil at best. Her stomach instead turning while olive-colored hands shuffled through the month’s expenses. They weren’t silent – not at the moment anyway – but the conversation was largely composed of cutting the other half off midway through sentences. If they managed to even get that far.
Crowley was good at these sorts of things. The back-n-forth of pointless and misleading conversation. Even if she carried herself like the most stoic Israeli about whatever stupid thing they were debating, he still bettered her in the overwhelming majority of instances. Perhaps it was because the style of how she debated, because everything that could carry a price tag was, to an Israeli, negotiable. And it didn’t take long for him to verbally defeat her again; eyes rolling and her gesticulation of annoyance apparent as she pushed her chair backwards to retrieve another log. Not that she was at her best anyway, given this had been an all day excursion of mental torture. She hated accounting.
It was a fact that she was about to voice, but his hand wrapped around her throat and pulled her clear from the chair. And it was not a moment before Salome felt her back slam into the wainscoting and painted drywall, the metal in her back jarring clear against nerves as she screamed. Hands instinctively reaching to push him away despite barely feeling able to support herself in the wake of pain, before his spare arm came down about her shoulders and held them firmly in place. The hand about her throat pulling back before he snapped its fingers and she was greeted with something she’d prefer to never see in the hands of the King of Hell. For however briefly it was before it was affixed around her neck, which all but renewed her struggles. His words at her ear mostly taunts to remind her that she wasn’t going anywhere, and once he released her shoulders, it was apparent how true it was. Though as she panicked, his hands wrapped a chain and leather lead about her wrists, binding them tightly together with just enough length to spare before clipping the chain to the leather about her neck. And as if to further drive his early point home, Crowley gave a hard pull at the lead, snapping Salome’s neck forward with an accompanying yelp.
“Discovered a bit of an interesting thing about you, love. Were you aware that you are currently missing a soul?” His hand pulling the chain a second time, though not quite as harshly.
“What?” It was the only thing Salome could manage between her gasps for breath and coughing. Her tangled mass of curls curtaining her face as she shook her head, though whether it was in response to his question or because she’d prefer he’d stop tugging, that she wasn’t sure of.
“Not a good thing to be missing around sorts like me. Easily snatched up and you’d never know until it was too late. Could help you get it back, though.” His fingers pulling a bit of lint from her blazer before brushing at the tweed, though the crooked curl of his lips never changed even slightly.
“And that required tying me up how exactly?” she retorted with a growl, and for it came another pull of the chain. Her movements stumbling slightly as her body pulled forward slightly, though it took no effort on his part to push her back against the wall.
“Conditions, love. Conditions. Have a few uses for your body you need to agree to, I’m afraid.” Which, of course, was not well-received by the woman pinned by him. Her struggles renewed for a third time in such a short period, though it was no effort at all to quash them of his own accord. And with a laugh, of course. “Magical purposes, originally, but you seem a bit eager to think of other matters. Come to think of it, you did mention finding me attractive at one point, though, didn’t you?”
Which, it hadn’t been a lie. Still, Salome’s eyes widened with realization of what he was pursuing, and she vehemently shook her head. Her disagreement met with Crowley’s hand in her hair, quickly pulling her body forward and turning it, and within another blink she was against the wall again. Just with her back to him. Vulnerable. Which was only amplified when she felt his hands upon her skirt, pulling it up several inches despite her squirming.
“Let’s make a deal, shall we?”
“But you haven’t even heard the terms yet, Shelomit. Allow Daddy his fun and proper use of your magic, and I’ll do the best I can to find where your wayward soul has wandered off to. I’ll even heal that little broken back of yours. You’re a Jewess, love, I’m sure you know a good bargain when you see one.”
She voiced her decision about such terms by stomping on his foot. He returned it with a hard smack to her ass, accompanied by a squeeze, which drove a steady crimson across her cheeks and into her lips.
“Think about it: no more medications, or pains, or fears of what’s to come. No selling of anything. All with protection and pleasure granted by the King of Hell. It’s all quite to your benefit.”
“Fine,” she allowed herself to murmur. Begrudgingly.
“I said ‘fi—” she had begun to reply, but it took barely any time for Crowley’s hand to venture around her front and latch to the chain, removing her from against the wall and into the center of the room. One hand latching into her curls before pulling her into a kiss she wouldn’t give willingly, and the second found her spinal column. All while a burning sting settled into mortal flesh and she cringed. His tongue, meanwhile, provided enough distraction from that at least, as he further bartered for entry. Which she gave, for various meandering reasons. He tasted of tobacco and whiskey, but anything less than vice would have been the surprise.
He pulled back but only for a few moments. Exposing her neck by clearly ripping away both blazer and her undershirt, then kissing along the juncture of muscle and vein. And that, too, was fleeting. His canines finding root in flesh as he bit down to mark her. At least in the most physical sense possible. Salome’s moan belying her feelings on the matter before she cursed aloud and pushed him away, cursing him in her native tongue. Crowley only pulling her forward again by the lead – tasting her blood for his own amusement – before a strong hand upon her shoulder pushed the woman to her knees before him.
“Remember, darling, Daddy needs to have his fun, too. Those are the terms.”
“You sound ridiculous, you do realize.” Another quick pull to her lead and her vision drifted upward.
“And you look like a penitent saint, but there’s nothing holy about any of this.”
And it took little beyond averting her gaze for Crowley to free himself from his trousers. Her hands, still bound by chain and leather, laid near to the wood floor where she was kneeling. His, on the other hand, found her hair again and coaxed her forward. Salome’s tongue peeking briefly to lick the tip before he all but encouraged her to take him fully into her mouth. Without the use of her hands for stimulation, Salome’s options were admittedly limited but she managed well enough. Crowley, of course, setting her pace for her as she worked. Head bobbing as she sucked and teased. His approvals coming in the form most expected, though sometimes he managed a few sarcastic terms of encouragement.
It went on this way for quite some time, but eventually he pulled her back with an obscene pop of her lips. And a shake of her head to revive movement in the rest of her neck muscles. And while Salome recovered, he had instead found the time to push all of her belongings from her desk. A sigh of annoyance escaping from her as everything tumbled to the ground with either the clatter of the unbreakables or, worse, the shattering of what was. But she lacked the time to contemplate the cost of what was lost as she was pulled upward, this time by the band of her intricate bra before he ripped it clear off of her form and pressed her down to the wood.
Her skirt and panties left her in nigh exactly the same fashion a few moments later. His hands wasting no time finding what he was searching for, that tiny bundle of nerves nestled in the folds between her legs. Salome’s body squirming almost instantly though he held her firm. Thumb working in tight circles as two of his fingers brokered access inside of her. Stretching and curling, sometimes hitting parts inside her so perfectly that she wanted to scream. Yet he didn’t linger there nearly as much as she’d preferred, pulling out and instead undoing the bindings on her wrists. The collar twisting back as the chain came to rest in his hand, wrapping it around his own hand a few times for good measure.
The bastard hadn’t even undressed, either. Power dynamics, she surmised. This was Crowley’s attempt at reminding her who was in charge in their dealings. There wasn’t any romance, or feelings at all, beyond desire for what lingered right beneath his fingertips.
He took her then, fully to the hilt, and allowed her a moment of adjustment and accommodation. Yet that was all he gave before he began to move – and she, to keen – as he used the lead to maintain both a steady pace and force. Of which, neither were gentle, but Salome seemed not to mind. Each snap of his hips causing her to cry out in pleasure, even when she tried to stifle such noises with her hand. And it seemed, when she attempted as such, he only renewed his tenacity, pulling the coil in her stomach tighter. A hand dipping around her body to stimulate her further, brokering far more than a single cry out from out her throat. His body riding hers through two orgasms before he finally reached his own and spilled within her. Crowley’s body pressing taut against her own as her growled his satisfaction in her ear. Salome’s, in comparison, was comprised mostly of whimpers from a woman whose every nerve was over-sensitive. Small hands clawing at her desk to try and regain any sort of composure or balance.
But when he retreated from her, it only took a moment for her form to slip from the desk – one that had now witnessed her complete lack of virtue – and onto the floor. All the while, he’d slipped himself back into his black trousers and found himself watching her upon the floor, though both of their breaths were shallow.
“Surprising lack of performance anxiety for a first-timer, love. I expect we’ll carry on well in our agreement, you and I.”
