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Last updated: 12/08/2014
Summary: Meeting Emma under the Spell of Shattered Sight, Regina has a few things to get off her chest. First, her bra.
“Swannnnnnnn!” Emma heard it echoing behind her as she ran for dear life, right beside Elsa. It was a bit cathartic; there’d been a few times in her life that she’d wanted to just turn and run off during a conversation with Regina, and since she’d already crossed punching Regina in the face off her bucket list…
“Oof!” Elsa went down in a tangle of fabric, Emma stopping and turning around, suddenly realizing that a floor-length gown wasn’t the best choice of wardrobe for escaping from a mad witch. Maybe she should’ve offered Elsa a change of clothes at some point during the past few weeks—even if they weren’t as flattering.
Emma rushed back to help her up, but it was too late. She was suddenly seized by that old black magic, held in place by invisible fingers on her throat. She saw Regina coming up the stairs of the crypt, one hand outstretched, the other flung out to catch Elsa. The queen was hurled against a nearby statue and held there, glowing bands of mystical energy binding her arms at her sides. She struggled fruitlessly.
“Emma. Fucking. Swan,” Regina drawled, approaching Emma with approximately the deposition of a Rottweiler.
“Would it help if I mentioned I only said those things to get you to take off my bracelet, and that I actually consider you a great friend, but we’re trying to save the town?”
“Oh, you need my help taking things off?” Regina asked sweetly, as if Emma’s feeble explanation… explained everything. “By all means!”
With a wave of her hand, Emma suddenly didn’t have to worry about whether red leather was fashionable anymore.
“Regina! Jesus!” She swore, trying to cover herself, but Regina gripped both her wrists with magic and drew them apart. Emma was gap-mouthed, looking down at her naked body goosepimpling in the cool night air. She looked over at Elsa and felt a flush of mortification. Her friend couldn’t help but stare at her, and Emma felt those eyes all over her.
And Regina’s. The Evil Queen was eying Emma like a rack of lamb. “Ah. Now I think I see why I kept you around so long, Savior, instead of incinerating you on the spot like I should’ve.” She advanced on Emma, so fast, drawing up so close Emma half expected to be touched. Her pulse raced. But Regina just brought her face up to Emma’s, that familiar hateful stare that she wanted Emma to see up close. “You wanted me to see your happiness with Hook? Ha! You’re pathetically transparent, Emma. Any fool could see what your real intentions were.”
Emma didn’t usually have a plan. She especially didn’t have a plan for being naked in front of an insane Regina Mills. Playing for time seemed her best bet. “And what would that be?” she retorted with a snarkiness she didn’t feel.
“You wanted to make me jealous!” Regina accused. “So jealous I’d give you what you always wanted—strip you bare, throw you down on the nearest bed, and show you the dearest pleasures of your sorry little life. Did you actually think it would work? That I’d debase myself to accept some filthy pirate’s leftovers?”
Emma’s mind was spinning. Now was not the time to find out that Regina had, what, a crush on her? “Uh, yeah. That was my plan. Turned out rather well, didn’t it?”
“You should be so lucky!” Then, Regina spouted a crooked smile, her head lolling over to take in Elsa. “Perhaps I should do something to make you jealous. You’re the one who’s naked, but I notice our ice queen’s eyes are all over me. Would you like to see a little more, my dear?”
“No!” Emma cried out suddenly. “Please, don’t—with her. I want you. I’m the one you want. I’m sorry I tried to make you jealous. Please… you’re so much smarter than me, so much more prettier than me… your dress is really nice… I’m sorry, it was the only thing I could think to do to get you to notice me.”
“Well! Some honesty—and some good taste!—at last.” Regina turned her attention back to Emma. “But talk is cheap. Perhaps when I wore a pantsuit, I could be satisfied with a steady stream of meaningless apologies, but now, I think you’ll have to show me how sorry you are!”
“I…” Emma blushed anew, suddenly reacquainted with her own nudity. Damnit, why were her nipples hard? “I’ll do anything.”
“Oh yes. You will at that.” With the blink of an eye, Regina released Emma. The blonde fell to her knees before her, which provoked any number of unwholesome thoughts. “For starters, it’s been quite a while since I’ve dressed so fashionably. My boots have gotten a bit dusty. I’d like you to clean them.”
“I… yeah. Sure.” Emma bent down, well aware that Elsa’s eyes were on her as well, watching as she gathered up her golden hair and brought it to Regina’s boots…
Regina suddenly lifted up her foot, planting it on Emma’s shoulder, and shoved her onto her back. “No! You thoughtless oaf! Use your tongue! I don’t want your greasy hair anywhere near my wonderful leather!”
Lady, those shoes wouldn’t pass muster on an episode of Gossip Girl, Emma thought viciously, even as she turned her head andkissed Regina’s boot, standing right by her head.
“Oh yes, quite a good start. Even my foot is such an uncanny presentation of loveliness, wouldn’t you agree? I don’t think anyone could help but kiss it. But I don’t want that. I want you to actually stick out your tongue and lick. My boots. Clean.”
Emma felt a sudden spike of adrenaline. It felt like she was in the passenger seat of a car going a hundred. She shuddered with fear over what Regina might do to her—but it wasn’t all fear that she felt. She extended her tongue, thinking only of keeping Regina placated, and ran it from the tip of Regina’s toe to the beginnings of her black leather trousers.
Elsa watched as Emma licked, again and again, over the entire length of Regina’s boot. Then Regina offered her other boot and Emma willingly—almost eagerly—coated the leather in her saliva. She couldn’t believe this wicked scene, couldn’t believe she was watching it instead of turning away or shutting her eyes. Certainly, Emma was her friend and she should try to spare her whatever embarrassment she could.
But, gods, how beautiful Regina looked, not just in her opulent costuming, but with the total power she held over Emma. A power she was used to, perhaps born to. Elsa felt a craving in herself, a need for release, satisfaction. She felt it mostly keenly between her legs.
Regina’s nostrils flared suddenly. She turned to Elsa, her grin ever more toxic. “Enjoying the show, sweetie? You’re young—I suppose this could count as an educational experience for my fellow ruler.” She grabbed Emma by the hair. “This is how you treat those who defy you.” Her grip nearly pulled Emma’s hair out by the roots, the blonde letting out a quick sob. “With strict, unyielding discipline.” Then, she gave Emma some slack, bringing her gloved hand down to wipe at Emma’s eyes as if she were crying. “But also with some understanding for your subjects. The poor dear is only human. It’s not her fault her family line is two idiots. All we can do is be thankful they passed on their looks—it’s not like they had much else to offer—and see what use we can find for her.” She smiled patronizingly down at Emma. “Oh, and be sure to offer lots of praise so they know they’re doing a good job. Emma!” Regina spoke in an exaggeratedly slow, loud voice. “That tongue of yours is doing a good job. I think I’ve just found another use for it—once we clean it off.”
Then, dropping the act, Regina wrenched Emma up to her feet by the hair, dragging her over to where she’d imprisoned Elsa. “Kiss her. Now.”
Emma breathed hard. “Jesus, Regina, this is—you’re going too far!”
“I’ve seen the way she looks at you, following you around like a puppy! What do you think, Elsa, should I try to stop Emma from spreading her legs to everyone in town? It seems like something of a time-consuming prospect! No, I think I should just encourage her to seek her pleasure with the fairer sex. At least this way, she won’t get pregnant—again. It’s a miracle her figure wasn’t ruined the first time out, and once that’s lost, oh, Emma… will you really have to rely on your control over magic? It’d be like expecting Stephen Hawking to support himself by running marathons.”
Then, face twisting, Regina shoved Emma into Elsa. Some lizard brain in Emma told her that she could either kiss Elsa or headbutt her; suddenly she was kissing her. She isn’t Regina, was an example of a weird thing it would be to think while your tongue was down someone else’s throat.
Then Regina yanked Emma back. “Hope you got a good taste, popsicle. From here on out, all you get to do is watch.” Then she thrust Emma back down to her knees.
Emma was shocked to see that Regina’s stockings or whatever had disappeared; magic. Beneath the hem of her coat thing, her legs were bare and Emma could see her sex, nestled in a well-manicured garden of trim black hair. The pink labia had a glossy sheen, like a lollipop taken out of the wrapper, just given its first lick. Christ, she’s wet.
Regina raised the skirt of her coat, exposing her cunt even to Elsa. “Lovely, isn’t it? I can see why you were so desperate to have it all to yourself—why you were willing to change history to keep Robin from getting to it. But I’m afraid I can’t stand here all day and let you stare at it. I do have to kill your mother and father before someone else robs me of the fun, so I think you’d better start licking my beautiful cunt before I decide that whipping you would be more fun.”
Suppressing another persistent shudder—a not unpleasant one—Emma leaned in and tried her best to remember what she’d liked that time in college when she’d gone to a Tori Amos concert.
“Mmmmmm.” Regina cocked her head back, like she was overwarm and finally enjoying a nice cool breeze on her body. Without looking her way, she addressed Elsa. “Here’s another important lesson to remember as queen. Even the most utterly useless of your subjects have a place in your kingdom. Emma, yours is eating cunt. Come along…”
Gripping Emma by the ear, she backed up to sit on a tombstone, Emma following along on her knees, trying to avoid having her ear twisted off. Elsa closed her eyes. Having Regina address her made her feel like she was a part of this, involved in this depraved wickedness she was forced into being a voyeur to.
Finally, Regina was reclining on her graven seat, folding her hands behind her head, closing her eyes as Emma licked as tenderly as possible at her. Emma’s back was turned on Elsa now, Regina facing her. The queen gave her younger counterpart a wink and it was like Elsa’s body her permission to burn. She couldn’t move her hands much, but she could slide them to the right and left, to her womanhood, to cup it through her dress. Her thin, thin dress…
Emma lapped at the very tip of Regina’s cunt first, not wanting to offend, but she was becoming attuned to Regina’s moods. She knew the queen wanted more. Emma moved in a little closer, quickening her tongue. It tasted good. It felt good. And when she made a little circle around Regina’s clit, Regina moaning and hunching down to meet Emma’s tongue, it sounded so fucking good.
Emma realized she was wet. Later, she’d realize she should probably care about that.
She teased Regina, making her tongue strokes quick and taunting, determined to avoid Regina’s clit. It was the only way she could get back at her—though a sudden vision of forcing Regina to her knees and making her lick Emma’s boots swam before her. Or, if she didn’t have any boots, maybe Regina could just lick her feet…
Emma came to, realizing she was in the middle of licking Regina from her asshole all the way to the very tip of her stiff clit. Regina was shaking all over, jerking her hips and laughing like she was enjoying a steep roller coaster. Emma’s own sex was pulsing, clenching. Before she could think, Emma had her hand there. She was touching herself and felt it so much better than Hook, better than a massaging showerhead, better than Hitachi…
Better than Regina? a mocking voice asked, and Emma decided she needed to stop this. Needed to make Regina come. She made one last, lavish tour of Regina’s labia, then went to her clit, nibbling it gently. Regina cried out as if in pain, but if she was hurt, she was enjoying it. Emma pulled her teeth back, raking her teeth over the nubbin—Regina screamed—Emma did it again, biting down a little harder, pulling on the clit—Regina was so loud—she mashed her mouth onto Regina’s cunt, taking as much of it between her lips as she could, sucking, licking, kissing—Regina was silent, but her breath was deafening—finally centering on the clit, dragging on it with her sucking lips, pulling it to the limit, releasing it—”I love you!” Regina cried as she pushed Emma away, a plea for mercy as she came, kept coming, came again. Whichever.
Regina sat on the grave, naked from the waist down, her cunt flooded. She panted, her smile as fierce as ever but somehow satisfied. “Now thank me,” she growled.
Emma fell into her role with conviction. “Thank you, Reg—your majesty. Thank you for letting me eat your beautiful pussy. I know I don’t really deserve to, so I can’t thank you enough. Thank you, your highness, your grace. Thank you so much.”
Regina nodded, satisfied. She stood, wobbling a bit, then snapping to attention with an angry look to both Elsa and Emma, daring them to mock her. “That’s enough for now,” she said, her voice airy. “I think I’ll go let Snow White see how good a job her little girl did cleaning my cunt. Won’t she be proud?”
She walked away, dragging her hand across Elsa’s face as she left. When Emma looked at her, Elsa looked flushed. Emma guessed the poor girl had been a little traumatized by what she’d seen.
“My clothes?” Emma called after Regina.
With a wave of her hand—the middle finger extended a bit further than Emma thought necessary—Emma was once more dressed. More than dressed, in fact, her clothes fitting to her like a uniform, her hair in a precise braid. Emma quickly mussed them up, unbuttoning her shirt a little, but leaving her shoelaces double-knotted.
“Okay,” Emma said, “that’s the bracelets taken care of. Now for the Snow Queen.”
Elsa stared at her in disbelief. “How can you possibly be so calm?”
Emma shrugged. “You just learn to roll with stuff, I guess.”
“You’re practically chipper! She just said she’s going to murder your parents!”
“They can handle themselves,” Emma said, then hurried off without another word. She would stop the Snow Queen, and bring Regina back to normal.
But, if she couldn’t—well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, now would it?