(This is a little something I wrote due to popular demand. Many folks who read chapter nine of my fic "Jackknifed" said they wanted to know what would have happened if Marceline agreed to the Crown's rather ... indecent proposal. I cannot begrudge my readers anything, so here it is. Be warned: THIS IS PURE SMUT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. Also, plausibility will be stretched just a tad. Plausibility isn't really the point. In any case, proceed with caution, friends.)
give in to me
(everything you know is wrong: reloaded)
He moved quicker than was right. He was near her instantly, as though he'd stretched his leg, Jake-like, to get to her in one step. Before she knew what hit her he'd taken her by the waist and pulled her against his side. She gasped at the sudden contact and instinctively pushed back against him.
"Don't act so coy," he whispered sharply.
She swallowed. "Look. Look dude. I - I need you to do something for me."
He looked into her face for a long moment for responding. "Anything for the Princess," he said, almost sarcastically.
"O - okay," she said. "I need you to fill that refrigerator with ice. Can - can you do that?"
"I can," he said softly. He drew his clawed finger along her cheek. She shuddered. "And what do I get in return?"
"My … gratitude?"
He smiled a lazy cat smile. "Isn't that sweet. Your gratitude." He stroked her cheek and she gave a hesitant smile. "Ah, look at you, you sweet, luscious little thing." He leaned in close to whisper in her ear, his breath cold. "You ought to stop pretending, Princess. I've watched you. We both know." He traced his finger down along her neck. "I think I should like to see a bit of this 'gratitude' for myself first." He stroked her shoulder, and bowed to softly draw his lips along her neck.
"Hush," he whispered, softly kissing her jaw. Despite herself something in her responded, throbbing deeply within her.
"Don't - " she said, squirming.
He gave a low, deep chuckle that reverberated through her body. "Why are you pretending you don't want this? Come now, Princess. This is exactly what you want. I see the looks you give. You're fooling no one. Give in to me," he said, softly biting her neck. "You won't regret it." His hand crept up her back, beneath her shirt, gently slipping her right bra strap down her shoulder. He ran his other hand through her hair, then took and gentle, firm hold of it, tilting her head back so he could softly kiss her throat. She gasped.
He suddenly pulled away and looked into her eyes. Whatever he saw there made him smile, which made her flush.
He raised an eyebrow.
"I - " she said haltingly.
I could use this to my advantage, she thought. I'll cooperate with him and strike when he's vulnerable.
He smirked at her. "Cat got your tongue, little one?"
"I - " she began, but couldn't continue, didn't know how.
"Shhh," he whispered knowingly, pressing his finger to her lips. He took a step back and offered his hand. She slowly, haltingly, put her hand in his.
He grinned. "Ahhh. There's a smart Princess," he purred.
He pulled her into his arms and suddenly they were moving out of the kitchen and down the hall. He'd lifted her with one arm as he took two long, stretchy steps around the corner to Simon's bedroom. With a low, deep chuckle he pressed himself to her back and bit her shoulder, one hand racing up beneath her shirt to cup her breast, and the other down, sliding between her pants and underwear, resting warmly there, pressing but motionless. The fullness of the contact was so sudden that she gasped and arched.
"Ah, you poor, deprived little thing," he said, nibbling on her pointed ear. "How long has it been?"
"Like forever," she said before she could stop herself.
"A delicious little thing like you? Such a crime".
He ran the flat of his thumb over her nipple, then pinched it. She jerked, which made her weight fall on his other hand, which he began to move in slow, hard circles. For a few seconds she felt nothing, but then she began to bloom warmly under his hand. The pleasure was so immediate and unexpected that it caught her off guard and she nearly melted into him, but she straightened, wresting self control back as best she could. Wait for the right moment, she reminded herself.
He made a sound of slight puzzlement that indicated he'd noticed her sudden halt, and briefly stopped moving his hand.
Then again, I do have to be convincing, she thought hotly, and pressed her hand to his, moving it against her. Despite herself she gave a small whimper.
"That's a good girl," he whispered, his cold breath hot on her ear. He took her earlobe in his mouth and bit in a maddeningly gentle way. She gasped. He brought his hand up more firmly into her and she could not help but grind against it. Feeling his strength, she let more of her weight fall onto his hand, which sent the sensation surging. She gasped and tilted her head back to rest it on his shoulder, her eyes closed, momentarily lost. He used that pliant moment to remove his hand from her breast and lift her camisole up and off. Tossing it to the ground, he moved his hand between her shoulder blades and gently pushed her down onto the bed face-first. He did not allow her to lie flat but kept her bottom in the air, pressed against him, against a firmness that was all too real.
He ran his fingernails gently along her spine, sweeping her hair away from her back. He shoved his hand up beneath her bra strap, gently stroking in the skin there before using both hands to unfasten it, letting it rest at her elbows. Suddenly he pitched forward over her back, cupping both breasts in hands, pressing his torso to her back, and a firm bulge against her bottom. He bit gently where her neck met her shoulder and laughed when she cried out, then suddenly he was up and off her, grabbing the waistband of her pants and shoving them down around her ankles in one fell swoop, kicking them out from between her feet with the heel of his shoe. He grabbed her hair, twisted until it was painful, and shoved his hand down again, under her panties, his fingers against her wet, flushed lips. She gasped and jerked, but he growled and seized her hair with more force.
"Stay still, you stupid girl, " he commanded, and she shakingly did as he asked, and soon discovered why. He ran his fingers gently but with precision over her delicate skin, pressing them along her vulva, laterally against her entrance, then away, everywhere but her clitoris. Her world narrowed down to his wandering digits, gliding ever closer to her apex but then away, until she began to whimper in a desperate and puppyish way she would have found utterly humiliating were she able. Her knees began to weaken and shake.
He leaned over her, his hand still wandering, yanking her hair away from her ear to growl "I told you to stay still."
I can't, she tried to say, but couldn't get past I before the words dissolved in her mouth.
"Hmm," he said, and allowed one finger to slide briefly over that swelled pearl. Her body jerked, knees straighted, anything to retrieve that sensation, and seeing this he finally relented and rubbed his fingers over her in slow, maddeningly light circles. She cried out and bucked wildly, her fatigued knees finally giving out on on her, sending her collapsing to the floor, legs askew like a newborn deer. He laughed at this, and somewhere deep down she knew it was a smug, mocking laugh, but she was incapable of caring.
"Get up," he commanded, "On the bed."
She did as she was told, blindly stumbling onto all fours. After a moment she felt him climb onto the bed behind her. She tried to glance over her shoulder at him but she didn't have time. He twisted his hand into her hair and pulled her upwards so she stood on her knees, her back pressed to his now bare torso, his arm wrapped around her waist. That hand crept back down to gently massage her swelled pearl as he pulled her head back to bite her neck. She gasped, the twin sensations overwhelming her. She squirmed and panted and cried out as he gently, rythmically drew her closer and closer to a climax. He released her hair and slid a single finger into her mouth. She bit down slightly, sucking on it in time with his fingers, and he made a low sound of interest, pushing his groin against her tailbone. A lingering moment passed, then he suddenly tossed her down to the bed and left the room.
She looked around in confusion, her hair a mess, heart pounding. She shakily slid off the bed and peeked down the hall. He looked back over his shoulder and smirked. He sat down on the living room couch with his legs wide, shirtless, the button of his pants undone, beneath which was a sizable bulge. He raised an expectant eyebrow at her. She approached him.
"Kneel," he said, pointing between his knees.
She did as he asked, looking up at him questioningly.
"Don't give me that," he purred. "You know what to do."
She inched forward and slowly drew his zipper open to reveal his briefs and the swelled stalk beneath them. She softly seized it through the fabric, her heart pounding as he made a soft sound of pleasure. She moved down and kissed it through the fabric. His scent rushed directly to her brain she she shuddered, inhaling deeply, pressing her face into him, rubbing her cheeks against it.
"Are you a cat, little one?" he whispered deeply, sounding amused. He stroked her hair and she helplessly pressed her head into his hand like a kitten. She gently slid her hand down between her legs, and when she was ready, reached under the waistband of his briefs and around his stiff, purplish cock. She looked at it for a moment, thick and veined, before moving to take the tip in her mouth.
Suddenly he sat up, taking her hard by the chin, lifting her face away. "Not with those fangs, my dear."
She blinked. "Oh. Right."
He leaned back and smiled. "You're a clever girl. Think of something else."
She nodded. This was a problem she'd run into before, after all, though her more supernatural partners never bothered about the fangs. She extended her tongue, snakelike, then ran it along his cock. After a moment of this she began twisting it around him, growing her tongue longer and longer until it formed a sort of warm, wet sleeve which she manipulated against him in waves.
He gasped, sinking his nails into the couch cushions. "Oh … good god."
She smiled, insomuch as she could, as he drew his breath in sharply between his teeth, moving with her tongue. She rubbed herself harder, which made her tongue tighten around him. He cried out in pleasure. "Stop, stop!" he ordered, half panting, pushing her hand from between her legs as well.
She unraveled her tongue from around him and waited obediently for his next move.
He seemed to take a moment to catch his breath, then smirked down at her. Suddenly he was up and off the couch, standing. He offered her his hand up, and when she rose she saw something in her eyes that chilled her blood. Like lightning his hand rose to her throat and he pushed her backwards, faster than she could keep up, and he lifted her by her neck, slamming her into the wall. She yelped but he was in her face, smirking. She gasped and pried at his hand.
"You ridiculous little idiot," he said. "You thought you were going to catch me unawares, didn't you? Didn't you?"
Her eyes widened. She's forgotten. She'd forgotten entirely.
"Answer me!" he demanded, pushing her harder into the wall.
"Yes!" she choked.
"That didn't work out too well for you, did it? You had me about as vulnerable as it's possible for a man to be not twenty seconds ago, and you did nothing. You're not very smart, are you, little Princess?' He squeezed her neck harder. "Are you? Answer me."
"No - no - I'm not smart - " she wheezed. "Please -"
He slid his knee up between her legs, giving her something for her weight to fall on, and loosened his grip. He pressed his body gently to hers, biting her neck, sliding his hand down to rub against her. Hardly caring, knowing her own defeat, she pressed against him without reserve, closing her eyes and moving with him. He laughed into her ear. It was a smug laugh of victory, but she no longer cared. She took pleasure in it.
He moved his hand away and moved between her legs. She felt the head of his cock slide between her lips and against her entrance. She gasped and closed her eyes.
"Is this what you want?" he whispered.
She nodded, panting.
"Yes," she said.
"Who is your king?" he whispered, pushing a bit more into her.
"You - you are," she said, squirming around him.
"Very good," he purred. "And who do you serve?"
"You," she gasped.
"Yes. Don't forget that, Princess. I am your master now."
"Yes," she said. "Yes."
He bit her neck, drawing blood, and slid inside her to the hilt, thick and hard as iron. She cried out, helplessly wrapping her legs around him. He braced himself then began to pound her, growling in her ear, and she rode with it, squeezing and sliding around him until she arched against him and came, her vision dissolving into tiny black dots as she howled. He didn't stop, thrusting into her at the same pace until she came again, and then again in a series of little aftershocks. He made an agonized sound of effort as he began to lose control, and then another sound, one she didn't expect, something akin to shocked surprise.
She looked up at him, at his face, at his drastically shortening hair and beard and nose, just before this man winced and pushed hard up against her, crying out in an agonized bellow as he came. He trembled for a moment, pressing against her, then seem to collect himself and lean away from her in alarm, and then as he realized the situation, in stunned horror.
"Mar - Marcy-!?" Simon asked.
She started back at him, a frightened doe, a deer in headlights.