Summary: Will's been a naughty boy and Magnus must correct his errant ways. A passing comment of his weeks earlier gives her an idea how to go about that. Smutty, fluffy student/schoolmistress roleplay.
Author's Note: I've always felt that Will was probably abused while in foster care, and him as a survivor of sexual abuse is mentioned in passing during this fic. I don't spend much time at all on the issue and the roleplay itself is benign and neither violent nor degrading to either party. However, since Magnus is taking the role of Victorian schoolmarm to Will's errant student, there is a definite degree of dominance and submission. Forewarned, forearmed.
Timeline: Post "Always and Forever"
Author's Note: For Stephanie. Feel better, hon, and think of this when they remove the pins :)
"Oh, my God," Will laughed, opening the hanging bag he'd just dusted off and eyeing the Victorian outfit inside.
"Don't laugh. It was rather simple and uncomplicated for the time," Magnus told him, reaching around him to rest a hand lightly on the jacket, expression fondly reminiscent.
"You must have looked like... like a schoolmarm in it!" he giggled, turning to steal a kiss.
"Very few females taught in proper schools at that time," she answered, shaking her head and zipping the bag again. "I would have been a governess or tutor at best. Besides, I was never as dowdy as the stereotypical schoolmarm."
"I would say not," he laughed, leering. "You'd be one of those schoolteachers that had teenage boys randomly fleeing the classroom because you gave them embarrassingly physical reactions every time you bent over to pick up a piece of chalk. Damn, bet they'd deliberately screw up just on the hope of getting called in for detention, too."
Magnus bit her lip, shaking her head faintly. "Well thank you, Will. Now this..." she began, removing a corset from a box and holding it up for his inspection. "Most of my lovers eventually ask to see me in one of these."
"And nothing else?" he asked, leering at the mental image for a moment before smiling and shaking his head. "I'm sure it's stunning on you but how do you breathe?"
"Shallowly," she replied, smirking and packing it away again. "Oh, here we are," she added, picking up another box. "All my good jewelry from the period."
Will stared into the box as she opened it, gaping. "It's all so intricate and..."
"Gaudy?" she answered, grinning at him. "You can see why I packed so much of it away, I'm sure."
"Is this colored glass or..."
"Actual gemstones," she confirmed, nodding.
"Wow." That must have cost a chunk of change, even a hundred and thirty years ago. Damn...
"Ah, here we are, Will," she announced, holding up an elaborate pair of gold studs decorated with pearls on either end. "And you didn't believe me."
"I thought you were joking," he whispered, squirming and licking his lips as he eyed the antique nipple-rings. "You wore those?"
"I was quite the saucy lass back in the day," she answered, smirking and laying them back in their place. "I let the piercings heal when I was pregnant but I occasionally contemplate getting them redone. Wearing these was always quite... enjoyable."
Will bit his lip at that. "Damn. You are full of surprises, Magnus."
"Well, someone has to keep you guessing," she chuckled, patting his cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have rounds. I'll see you at the briefing, love."
Will managed to mostly put the idea of a Victorian-era Helen Magnus running around with pierced nipples out of his mind over the next few weeks. After all, by her own admission, she'd done a lot kinkier and less socially acceptable things in her time. Laying in bed with her while she recounted her early experiences was better than a juicy piece of Victorian-era erotic literature and she was always more than willing to share all the details with Will.
Her descriptions of her first time with a female had been particularly 'inspiring' and filled more than one lonely night recently. He'd been in New York for almost a week sorting out HR issues there. Magnus had called him every night, that gorgeous voice of hers painting every detail out so vividly he could see it in his mind's eye. The woman in question had been a German, teaching Magnus the finer points of psychology which had, of course, included the opinion of many German thinkers of the time that sexuality was much more fluid and varied than most people supposed. Magnus had been more than eager to experiment with the Nordic beauty. And, she'd teased Will, she might even show him a photograph of Frauline Professor Strum once he got home.
As nice as that thought was, he'd been eager to get back for entirely unrelated reasons. It was the first time he'd spent more than a couple of nights apart from Magnus since they'd become lovers and he missed her hugs and smiles at least as much as he missed the fascinating conversation and amazing sex.
Unfortunately, he'd been home for several hours and not had a chance to see her since she was apparently up to her elbows in a difficult diplomatic wrangle with another Head of House. Will had texted her, offering jokingly to have the Head in question assassinated discretely. Her answering text had been a mirthless-sounding note to give her a few hours to decide.
Eventually, she texted him again, with a terse: my office, now.
Frowning at the lack of anything like affection, which had been present in their texts and emails even before they'd become lovers, Will hurried in that direction, more than a little worried.
"Lock it," Magnus directed, not looking up from whatever file she was reading.
Will complied automatically, supposing that the call must have left her seething. "What's wrong?"
"You've been a very naughty boy, William," she answered brusquely, 'scowling' up at him. "I'm quite cross with you."
Will froze, swallowing hard. Her hair had been smoothed back and tied up in a severe-looking bun and she was dressed straight out of the Victorian era, all concealing layers and somber colors. She'd even perched a pair of reading-glasses on her nose and, as she climbed slowly to her feet, he saw that she was also fingering a worn wooden ruler. Worn was a nice touch; he could easily believe it had once been used to whack errant pupils until they begged for forgiveness.
"Very naughty," she repeated, circling him with a downright predatory expression.
If she hadn't played at dominance with him before, he might have panicked and bolted, especially when the ruler smacked his ass hard enough to sting through the denim of his jeans. This relationship was the first time he'd ever been comfortable letting a partner pretend to be rough or deprive him of control, and he was still getting used to the idea, even knowing she'd never hurt him or cross the line.
Not that he was remotely frightened, either. Magnus knew him better than anyone, never once let things get out of hand or go beyond play into the realm where his past demons made the experience unpleasant. This would be like that. 'Principal Magnus' would chastise him and then kiss the resulting owwies better, seamlessly replacing dominance and submission with gentle care and unconditional affection.
The same reasons he'd never let another lover play these games with him were close to the reasons he tended to embrace these scenarios with her when she proposed them. He was safe with her and actual sexual abuse was a thing of the past. Confident of his relationship with Magnus and the fact that she would never laugh at or belittle him no matter how he reacted, he could finally take possession of all the pain and shame and fear of his childhood, face and acknowledge them, and then leave them in the past where they belonged. He was safe with her, they would both enjoy this, and he would emerge from the experience with one fewer hang-up.
He bit his lip as she circled him, squirming a little because that 'prim' outfit of hers showed off curves that few people ever saw on her unless they'd seen her naked. Yes, fabric was covering her from her throat on down - she was even wearing a pair of kid gloves - but with the sensibilities inherent to the Victorian era, the outfit hugged and accentuated everything, clearly showing off what it made clear was forbidden fruit. The soft leather gloves even highlighted the length of those amazingly nimble fingers, evoking vivid memories of the way those fingers felt wrapped around his arousal and coaxing him higher.
"Please, ma'am, I won't do it again," he rasped, breath coming faster.
"Oh, we'll see about that," she answered, expression hard except for eyes that he could see where already mentally undressing him. She touched the ruler to his cheek, using it to force his face in her direction as she studied him for a moment, probably searching his eyes for any hint that this was going to be too much for him. "Sit," she directed after a moment, pointing to a chair by her desk.
Biting his lip and doing his best not to speculate on what she had planned since he wanted everything to be a genuine surprise, Will quickly did as ordered. Submitting to Magnus in their sex-life was probably easier because he did it so routinely professionally and personally already, but he genuinely did look forward to her surprises in the bedroom.
"You will write lines," she informed him, placing a pad of paper and a pen in front of him. "A hundred times: I will not make Miss Magnus sleep alone."
He sniggered at that, reaching for the pen. "I will not make Miss Magnus sleep alone," he repeated dutifully, beginning to write as she hovered over him.
Her perfume was intoxicating, a scent she usually saved for after work and one that his brain already associated with almost agonizingly protracted lovemaking in front of her fireplace, and Will's hand shook slightly as he wrote.
"No, that will never do!" she snapped, grabbing his wrist in one gloved hand. "Your penmanship is atrocious! Do it again," she directed firmly, hand remaining lightly on his wrist.
Swallowing, Will tried to steady his hand as he wrote. It wasn't easy with that soft, supple leather brushing skin already on fire as she got him more and more excited.
"Better," Magnus breathed in his ear when he had finished. "And again," she directed, tone almost precisely what it was when she asked him to repeat some particularly exciting caress in bed.
Trembling at the feel of her breath against his cheek, Will started to write again, jumping when her hand moved from his wrist to tease him through his jeans.
"Concentrate, you naughty boy," she crooned, fingers stilling. "You simply must learn to focus."
"Focus," he repeated shakily, licking his lips and writing again, barely managing to steady his hand.
"Better," she repeated, cupping him firmly through his jeans. "Again."
Swallowing hard, Will moved the pen slowly over the paper, forming out the words once more. "I will not force Miss Magnus to sleep alone," he recited, licking his lips and feeling breathless.
"You most certainly will not, young man," she rasped, giving his length a squeeze. "Again."
Will moaned, obediently rewriting the statement every time Magnus ordered it, always giving him another squeeze to punctuate the command. How he managed to survive a hundred repetitions without climaxing in his boxers was entirely beyond him.
"What?" he asked, staring at her with wide eyes. She obviously had more of this game to play, but he was starting to feel desperate.
"It's time to move on to the... corporal part of your punishment."
"The..." He gaped at her, moving shakily to his feet. She would never brutalize an unwilling lover, but she didn't seem to be teasing about corporal punishment, either.
"Ten firm strokes to start," she breathed in his ear, unbuttoning his jeans. "We'll see if that makes an adequate impression or if additional correction is necessary." She waited for the pleasant nature of what was about to happen to sink in before continuing, "It was traditional in my day for the offender to keep track of the strokes himself. You will count each aloud," she directed, urging his pants and boxers down. "But be warned that, if you lose count, I shall be forced to start over from the beginning. Those are the rules."
"Ten... strokes?" he repeated, squirming as she eyed his erection with a hungry look. That was the kind of 'punishment' he would happily endure from her any time.
"To start," she repeated, leering at him. "You will lean forward and use the desk for support but you must remain standing at all times or I will be forced to start over. Understand?"
"Y...yeah," he agreed, licking his lips and bracing his hands firmly against the desk. "Don't lose count and remaining standing throughout the, uh, beating. That's... very old-school."
"Well, we must strive for authenticity," she answered with a smirk, wrapping one of those gloved hands around his erection.
Will whimpered at the feel of the soft, suede-like material against his ridiculously aching length even before her hand tightened. Shaking, he struggled to breathe as she gave him a firm tug.
"Count!" she ordered, hand stilling and fingertips teasing his head in a way she knew drove him completely crazy.
He whimpered, shaking worse at the teasing. "One! God, one..." he panted.
"Good boy," she breathed in his ear, doing it again.
Will sobbed with pleasure, knuckles turning white as he clutched the desk.
"Count!" she reminded him, tone uncompromising and harsh but eyes hungry.
"Two," he whimpered, struggling to breathe. "Two. Jesus..."
"Language!" she chastised, free hand smacking him on the posterior. "We'll add five strokes to your punishment for blasphemy."
Will gasped, swallowing hard at that pronouncement. He was high enough that he might not last if she did that many more times and he had no idea if allowing himself to climax fell within the parameters of the game or not.
"Ma'am, may I..."
"Oh, no, you dirty boy," she cooed in his ear, nipping at the lobe and giving him another smack on the bottom before she cupped his cheek gently. "Not until you're given permission."
Will groaned at that, closing his eyes and drawing in deep, slow breaths. He sobbed when she gave him another firm stroke, whimpering the word "three" quietly.
"Do. Not. Lose. Count," she warned, giving another tug and adding a little twist at the end. It was another move she had learned early on that drove him close to the edge.
"God!" Will yelped at the added sensation and friction, stomach swooping and knees buckling. "Magnus," he groaned, staring desperately up at her from where he was suddenly kneeling at her feet.
"Oh, you willful creature," Magnus tutted, staring down at him. "What did I tell you?"
"Count and... stay standing. I've broken two of your rules," he rasped, licking his lips and panting as he watched her with increasing need. "However will you deal with me now?"
"Perhaps you're feeling unwell because your punishment is so rigorous," she answered, offering him her hands and pulling him to his feet when he accepted them. Drawing him into a hug, she rubbed his back as she supported him against her chest. "We should finish this session and, once we have, I'll tend to you and make everything better."
"Everything?" he whispered, licking his lips and giving her an eager look.
"Better than before, Will," she promised. "Now, lean over the desk again and we'll finish this quickly."
"I... I'm not sure how much more, uh, punishment I can take," he admitted, trembling with desire as he braced his hands against her desk again.
"Oh, you poor dear. Are you feeling so unwell?" she cooed, nuzzling her cheek and letting one gloved hand caress his hip instead of reaching for his straining arousal again. The leather was softer than suede, almost like smooth, silky fabric against his fevered skin. The gentle sensations only served to carry him higher and, from the look on her face, she knew it. "Come and sit, love," she directed, gently steering him towards her couch. "I'll make you feel all better, I promise."
"And my punishment?" he groaned, gratefully sinking onto the sofa since his legs really weren't up to supporting him any longer.
"Oh, you haven't escaped it, only put it off," she answered, sitting down next to him and dragging one fingertip up the underside of his length.
"God, Magnus," he groaned, trembling again. "Damn, that's..."
"Something you've missed in our time apart, I should think," she answered, slowly peeling off her gloves.
"God, yes," he breathed, nodding and reaching for her. "Come here."
Laughing, she hiked her skirts up slightly as he urged her into his lap. "I'm not finished with you yet, young man," she whispered, kissing him tenderly. "You seem to be in some discomfort."
"You have no idea," Will rasped, squirming as he came closer to the point where the pleasure of anticipation blurred irreversibly into the pain of denial. "Please, Magnus!"
"Mmm, I think there's only one solution to this dilemma," she answered, giving him another kiss and then sliding off his lap again.
"Magnus?" he whimpered, frowning in surprised confusion. Denial had never been something she'd shown an interest in before, yet...
"I shall have to kiss it better," she explained with a smile, moving to kneel between his legs.
"God," he moaned, hips bucking. Moisture pooled at his head in response to the idea of her mouth easing the desperate ache in his arousal, and he gratefully spread his legs further, sliding forward on the couch cushion so she could reach comfortably.
"That's right, love," she breathed, smiling gently up at him as her tongue darted out to lap up the pearly fluid.
Will gasped, chest heaving and eyes slamming shut at the rough, wet warmth in such a tender location, doubly sensitive thanks to the long build she'd made him undergo. "Yes!" he cried, hands grasping the couch cushions under him. "Magnus..."
"Does that help?" she chuckled, doing it again.
"Yes!" Will moaned and whimpered, nodding urgently. "God, yes..."
"Corporal punishment is so barbaric. You must be quite sore," she teased, tongue sliding up his underside.
He groaned at that, quivering as it sent jolts of pleasure coursing through him, bringing him that much closer. "May I... may I please," he panted, staring foggily down at her.
"If you simply must, although I would ask you to wait a bit longer yet," she answered, grinning and licking her lips before bending to draw him into her mouth.
Will groaned and gasped, hips arching towards the warm suction and darting tongue. "Yes, yes," he gasped, trying to tangle a hand in her hair and failing because it was tied back so tightly. "God..." he moaned, needing to feel more of her but not sure where to when she was so covered everywhere.
"Hush, love," she soothed, hand tight around the base of his arousal as she slowly drew back, finally releasing him from her mouth. "I have you," she promised, one hand dragging up her skirts as she kept holding him, keeping him from climaxing before she was ready for it.
Will whimpered with relief, nodding and reaching to help her out of... whatever he was going to be able to get her out of with his hands shaking this bad.
"No need," Magnus chuckled. "Victorian-era drawers contain an interesting feature," she informed him, lifting her skirts the rest of the way.
Will gaped and had to laugh despite how desperate he was for release. "They're crotchless?" he asked, voice cracking.
"They are," she answered, straddling his lap. "You try taking that many clothes off and putting them back on again afterward every time you have to use the loo."
"Good point." Groaning, he licked his lips. "God, this is kinky and hot and..."
"Less talk," she directed, nipping at his lips as she sank onto his aching arousal with one swift, firm movement. She let out a sound between a gasp and a whimper, muscles fluttering as they adjusted to his presence inside her.
He gasped at that, only managing to bite back a scream because they were in her office and anyone might hear. "Yes," he whispered, burying his face in her shoulder and trembling with relief as the hot, tight tension erased almost all of his discomfort, which only intensified his perception of a truly dizzying degree of pleasure.
"Relax for me," she soothed, urging his head up and kissing and nuzzling his face. "We'll give you a moment before we begin. Just enjoy, hmm?"
"Enjoy, yes. I've... missed this so... so bad," he managed, voice shaking and hitching.
"So have I," she assured him, smiling breathlessly. Keeping perfectly still, she let her interior muscles squeeze and knead his length, the pressure and tempo just right to bring him higher without pushing him over the edge.
"Oh!" Will gasped, head falling back and body trembling. It was beyond a relief. Having his arousal massaged like that would never get old and the amount of muscle-control she had to have possessed to pull it off so easily never ceased to amaze him. Practice, it seemed, really did make perfect.
"Starting to feel better?" she asked, rocking gently as her muscles continued to tighten and release in that delirious tempo.
"Much," he agreed, his own hips thrusting in short, hard movements.
"Yes," she groaned, nodding and bracing her hands against his chest. "Just a little to the left..."
"Here?" he whimpered, shifting slightly.
Magnus gasped, muscles clenching him hard. "Yes!"
He let out a cry at that, unable to hold it back. "Magnus!" Nodding, he started thrusting harder and faster at that angle, one hand questing under far too many layers of fabric to find her swollen folds and warm, throbbing arousal.
"Will," she whimpered, head falling back as he began stroking the little bundle of nerve-endings. "Yes..."
Dizzy with pleasure, he did his best to focus on carrying her higher. It became increasingly difficult to concentrate as she kept rippling and clenching around his arousal as they rocked, making stars swim in his vision. Fortunately, it was instinct to keep thrusting into that amazing pressure; little conscious thought was required. From the look and feel of it, the hard, uncoordinated thrusts were more than working for Magnus.
Free hand tightly gasping her thigh, Will kept thrusting, whimpering as his build started, almost painfully intense after a week apart from her followed by all that teasing. Magnus smiled at him, expression loving and full of pleasure as her muscles gave him another squeeze, this one considerably more insistent. Throwing back his head, he kept driving up into her, letting out another shout as her lips locked onto his throat.
He climaxed in a flurry of movement and pleasure, Magnus' muffled gasps and whimpers filling his ears as he emptied himself into her in powerful, white-hot waves of pleasure and relief. Feeling Magnus' build in the way she kept clenching around him, he let his fingers stroke hard and fast over her arousal again, rocking into her as hard as he could manage given how tender the climax had left him. Her orgasm took her on the heels of a whimper, and she pressed her face into his shoulder as it washed over her, rocking and clenching. Will stroked the back of her neck as she rode it out, murmuring soothingly and loving the way she felt when she was this high.
"Oh," she panted as it started to pass. "Oh, my."
"Magnus," he breathed, giving her a wide, loving smile and feeling absolutely euphoric. "That was... amazing."
"Mmm," she agreed, nodding and giving him a languid smile. "So amazing, Will."
"You need to... take me to task for being willful more often," he informed her with a leer.
She laughed softly at that, almost a giggle in the euphoric aftermath of her orgasm. "Silly boy. I haven't even completed your first round of punishment yet," she reminded him with a grin.
"Do your worst," he answered, leer growing. "Just remember the crotchless bloomers..."
"Or none at all if we're in a sufficiently daring mood?"
He groaned. "I like this plan. Now let me take you to bed."
"I'd love to, but can you actually walk that far?" she challenged, expression teasing.
"Well, it'll be more like lurching and wobbling to your room, but..."
She laughed at that, shaking her head. "Take a moment to compose yourself and then we'll go to my room. I have something else to show you."
"Yeah?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and wondering what could top the wonderful torture she'd just put him through.
"Oh, yes. You see, I never did explain the original appeal of nipple rings. Before all us shameless hussies realized how pleasant they felt, they were simply a nod to fashion. The only way a female's nipples could be detected under so many layers of such thick fabric."
Will licked his lips, eyes darting down to the way her nipples stood out in sharp relief against the bodice of her dress. "Magnus..."
"Yes?" she answered, climbing to her feet with a soft groan and smoothing her skirts with a prim expression.
"God," he answered, trying to climb to his feet.
"Feel free to wait and rest," she directed with a gentle smile. "I need to change into something less complicated and restrictive."
"Ten minutes," he answered, forcing himself to breathe. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
"I'll be waiting eagerly," she assured him, nodding. "I do hope I can resist the urge to... start without you."
Will groaned at that, licking his lips. "I'll see you in five minutes, Magnus."
"Don't be late. I'd hate to have to discipline you again," she answered with a leer, turning and sweeping from the office.