Had some time today so I did a sketch of Pamela Rabe. I'll surely draw her as Ferguson since I've been obsessed with wentworth this week (thanks to the amazing art of @josephinetaylorbooks for making me watch this serie)
summary: It’s been three months since you broke up with Joan. But Joan Ferguson doesn’t believe in breakups.
*****
It’s been three months since you broke up with Joan. Why? Because while her possessive nature was seductive when you first started dating, it eventually became toxic.
Suffocating you in a way that was no longer "sexy." It began under the guise of protection: her demanding your passwords and full access to your accounts. Then, it evolved into her picking apart everything you said, constantly doubting your faithfulness.
It all came to a head when you realized that loving Joan Ferguson meant accepting her version of "oneness," which required abandoning your privacy and merging your mind entirely with hers.
So, one night…
Joan is at the kitchen island, elegantly de-seeding a pomegranate. She’s wearing a white silk robe, looking clean and composed. A glass of dark red wine sits untouched nearby. You walk in late. As the door thuds shut, the tension in the spacious living room makes the air feel suddenly cramped.
“Three hours and twelve minutes. I hope the conversation at the pub was riveting enough to justify the… tactical silence? Or did your phone coincidentally die the moment you stepped inside?” Joan slices through the atmosphere with a smirk, not once looking up from her task.
“I was just out with Sarah, love. I didn’t think I needed to provide a minute-by-minute transcript. It’s Friday; I believe I'm entitled to some time on my own.”
Joan stops. She sets the knife down with a soft, metallic clink and finally looks at you. Her expression is one of amused pity. “Sarah. The one with the wandering hands and the mediocre intellect? How refreshing for you.” She offers you a sarcastic smile.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, knowing this won't die down anytime soon. “She’s my friend. And I’m tired of this interrogation every time I breathe air you haven’t filtered first.”
Joan chuckles softly. “Darling, if I were interrogating you, you’d be sweating, and I’d be much less charming. I’m simply curious why you feel the need to keep little... pockets of your life tucked away from me.” dropping each line with a light and tender tone.
“It’s called privacy, Joan,” you cut her off.
“No, it’s called deceit wrapped in a prettier ribbon,” Joan responds bitingly, her tone dropping into a dangerous register. She begins to walk toward you, her movements slow and deliberate.
“I am not deceiving you, Joan! How many times do we have to—”
“I saw the way you tucked your phone away when I walked into the room this morning. Like a teenager hiding a dirty magazine. It’s beneath you. And frankly, it’s an insult to my intelligence to think I wouldn’t notice the change in your pulse every time you get a notification.”
You try to control your voice, but the weight of this repeating pattern is too much. “My pulse changes because I’m scared of how you’re going to react! I changed my passcode because I wanted one thing, just one thing! that was mine.”
Joan stops inches from you. She reaches out and grabs your shirt, jerking you forcibly toward her. Her eyes are razor-sharp. “What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours. That was the agreement, wasn't it?”
You reach for her wrist, trying to pry her fingers from the fabric. “You’re suffocating me.”
With a dry, sarcastic laugh, Joan pulls you so close that you can feel the heat of her words on your skin. “Oh, don't be so dramatic. You said you loved me. You wanted someone to see you, to REALLY see you. Well, here I am. I see everything. I see the thoughts you haven’t even had the courage to voice yet. And now, suddenly, you don't want me?”
She shoves you backward, her hand still tight on your collar, forcing you to retreat as she advances. “Why would you want a 'private life' unless you were planning on filling it with someone else? Are we not enough? Am I not providing enough... stimulation for you every night we fuck? Do I not protect you from the world? And that... 'friend' of yours? Sarah, wasn’t it? Does she love you better than I do? Does she fuck you better?!”
You are crying now, the sob breaking out of your chest. The sound seems to snap Joan out of her heated rage. Her eyes instantly soften into a look of calculated fear and regret. She lets go of your collar, her hands shaking as she tries to smooth out the crumpled fabric of your shirt.
“Oh, honey…
Honey, I’m sorry…
I’m so sorry, baby…”
Your chest heaves with sobs.
“I was just scared,” she adds softly, leaning down to look you straight in the eye. She cradles your face in both hands, her thumbs tenderly wiping the tears from your cheeks. She plants several soft, lingering kisses on your cheeks, your eyelids, and finally your lips.
When you finally gather your strength, you take her hands and firmly pull them away from your face.
“I can’t do this, Joan. I’m leaving.”
And so, yes. you broke up with her.
For the last three months, Joan replayed her memories of you on a loop. She thought of that night at the bar. she didn’t "do" bars, usually finding them unsanitary. But she went because you asked.
She remembered being crammed into that vinyl booth, watching your head tilt back as you laughed, your eyes crinkling at the corners. It was a genuine, unguarded moment, and you were laughing at something she had said.
Then there was the time you walked side-by-side down the grocery aisle after a grueling day at work. She remembered the rare, cooling sense of peace she felt just being near you.
She thought of the night you had a nightmare and she calmed you, holding you in her arms until you fell back asleep. In the silence of that room, she had vowed to herself that she would never let anything hurt you; she would kill a hundred, or a thousand more just to keep you safe and happy by her side.
She remembered the sweet, gentle kisses you exchanged before heading out, and the ones you shared after making love until you both drifted off.
Until Joan couldn't take the silence anymore.
Now, her living room is dimly lit. She wears the same white silk robe from the night you left. It’s a choice that feels less like a coincidence and more like a ritual. Seated perfectly upright on her gray leather couch, she swirls a glass of whiskey, watching the amber liquid catch the light before taking a measured sip.
The only illumination in the room comes from the cold glow of the television.
On the screen, she is watching a tape of the two of you having sex.
The footage is high-definition, captured from a fixed, elevated angle. It is a recording you both consented to making, yet in this light, it looks like evidence. It is intimate, rawly so. The sounds of the video fill the silent room: the friction of skin, the rhythmic creak of the bed, and then, the specific sound Joan has bookmarked.
“Joan… please… Joan,” you say on the recording, your voice thin and breathless.
Joan’s thumb hovers over the remote. With a subtle click, she jumps the video back ten seconds.
She watches you again. More specifically, she studies you. She observes the way your fingers dig into her back, the way your head throws back to expose the vulnerable line of your throat, and the way she sinks her teeth into a love bite just under your jaw. She fixates on that "needy" hitch in your breath, the one you always tried to hide, but that she always managed to draw out.
“There it is,” she whispers against the rim of her glass before bringing it to her lips.
She hits play. On the screen, the climax of the video peaks. Your voice is a frantic whisper, muffled against her neck, but the words are unmistakable: “I love you. I love you so much. I’m yours.” On-screen, Joan kisses you tenderly, her tongue brushing against your lips in a slow, skillful possessive claim.
Joan hits PAUSE.
The frame freezes on your face. Your eyes are fixed on her, your expression shattered by pleasure and complete, utter surrender to HER.
She stares at the frozen image of your vulnerability. Her expression isn’t one of sadness or heartbreak; it is the look of a scientist confirming a fundamental law of nature. A small, chilling smirk touches the corner of her mouth.
“Three months of silence. Three months of 'privacy,'” she says to the empty room. “But we both know you're just playing a part right now. This 'breakup' is just a performance.”
She gestures broadly to the space around her, the silent, immaculate house where you no longer live with her. “This... is just a stage. And I am a very patient director.”
She presses the LOOP button.
“...please… Joan… I love you… I’m yours…”
Joan closes her eyes for a moment, letting the audio of your submission wash over her like a prayer. She takes another sip of whiskey, settling in to watch the loop for the twelfth time that night.
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 bye 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.
