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Ante, Part Six

Reply to CJ

Posted to the RoswellBDSM mailing list March 20, 2001

Title: Ante 6/?
Author: CJ
Disclaimer: I don't own them or anything about Roswell. Don't read if you're too young, think this stuff is icky. Ask your doctor before starting on any bondage type programs.
Rating: NC17,slash, bondage. This installment is pretty boring. Maria/Lonnie, Maria/Michael
Feedback: Many thanks to those who have given.Would be really appreciated. Is this fic getting old?



        Maria parked the Jetta outside the warehouse, and tried to mount enough courage to go inside. She wanted to see Lonnie and to be reassured that she was still important to her. Their earlier activities had unsettled her, more from the cool way Lonnie dismissed her than the actual sex play. Usually when Maria had to leave, Lonnie held her tightly, biting her neck and whispering in her ear, refusing to let her go until Maria pleaded and struggled. Today, Lonnie had just unhooked her from her bonds, patted her cheek and sent her coolly on her way. Was Lonnie already getting tired of her?

        Maria straightened her shoulders and walked determinedly into the warehouse. Lonnie had just had a bad day, that's all. She still loved Maria, and if by chance she'd forgotten that, Maria would remind her. It was not possible to discard Maria DeLuca.

        The warehouse was empty, which was disappointing but would allow Maria time to set the scene. She found some candelabras, a silver ice bucket, and a large mirror and set to arranging her seduction. Funny, who'd have thought S&M and home decorating had so many elements in common. Perhaps there was a new niche for Martha Stewart to expand into.

        Some light chains entwined in her hair, piling it high, with the silver reflecting through the blond. Deep plum lipstick. Naked except for her black heels. Maria checked herself in the mirror; hot, if she did say so herself. The mirror was positioned so her naked back and the candles would be reflected in it, when Lonnie came in and saw her kneeling by the chair. The ice bucket nearby should other....stimulants be required. It was good but it wasn't perfect.

        Ah, perfection. Lonnie's black jacket slung over the back of a chair. Maria smiled to herself. Lonnie loved to put the jacket on Maria when they were done, satisfied and sweating. Tonight, Lonnie could take it off her as well. As she walked over to get the jacket, Maria noticed some photos on the table. Blushing, she thought about Lonnie taking pictures of her today. Should she look? She wanted to see how she looked hanging there, red marks from the crop on her thighs and pleasure on her face. Was it as out of control as it felt? Besides she could use food for thought while she waited for Lonnie.

        Maria looked at the pictures. They weren't from this afternoon. They weren't even of Maria. They were of Isabel Evans.

        They weren't especially erotic. They were just of Isabel going about her day to day life. Some of her at school, driving in the jeep with Max, in a booth at the crashdown. A few in her bedroom, including one of her changing clothes in front of mirror.

        Goddamnit. Did Isabel know what was going on? Was Isabel Lonnie's lover as well? There was no evidence in the pictures that Isabel knew she was being photographed, but Maria could see her playing it cool. Looking off into the distance, ignoring Lonnie's worship, while taking the most important part of Maria's life away from her. After all, it wasn't like she hadn't done it before.

        A more rational part of Maria's brain told her to calm down. Possibly Lonnie had a crush on Isabel, almost understandable in the light of the ego building potential of fucking one's own image, and Isabel's undeniable beauty. Maybe it would pass. It damn well better pass, because there was no way Isabel could be as good for Lonnie as Maria was.

        Head held high, Maria walked back to curl up at the foot of the chair and wait for her mistress.

        Lonnie swore, as the car in front of her cut her off. There was desert all around, few people and still they still managed to find a way to piss her off. She pulled off to the side of the road to get her temper under control.

        It had been a bad day. A few stolen credit cards she'd been using had been reported, so she'd needed to spend her morning stealing some different ones. She had this meeting tonight, which always stressed her out. Her plans were nearing completion, which was both a relief and a worry.

        And, oh yeah, she'd almost killed the love of her life.

        Rationally, she knew that wasn't true, but when she'd pulled the crop out of Maria's ass, taken the clamp off her clit and pulled at the chains in her nipples in one fluid movement, Maria had let out a scream that was positively fucking unearthly and then passed out. She dangled from her cuffs like a piece of dead meat, and had been so so pale. Lonnie stood there staring in horror, while the echoes of the last thing she'd said to her sweet Maria reverberated back from the walls.

        It had been "You goddamn unfaithful whore."

        Maria had come around a few seconds later, but her eyes still held a dazed, unfocused look and she'd looked bewildered when looking at the clamps on her nipples and the welts on her thighs. Lonnie had quickly redressed her and then sent her on her way, before she accidently dismembered her or something.

        She hadn't meant to be that tough on her. She'd been furious that when she risked everything for Maria, Maria still felt the need to see Michael. She'd been hurt too, but she hadn't meant to be so severe. It was all this rehearsed, ritualistic crap that threw her off. If she had just had her hands and voice and some cuffs, she could have done everything she needed to do to Maria. If she'd shown her how she felt with her fists, she'd have been close enough to hear Maria's heart flutter, and she'd have backed off.

        Fucking Vilandra. This was all her fault. If Lonnie didn't have all her memories, especially about the ones about the games Vilandra liked to play, she'd never have gone the whole "my harsh Victorian mistress" route. Vilandra probably had killed people and never cared. Granted, until now Lonnie wouldn't have really cared either, but still. Maria was sweet and so obedient when she wanted to be. Was that why she hadn't stopped Lonnie? Was she trying to be a good little girl? Her girl wasn't dumb, Lonnie knew, and she'd probably do her best to stay the hell away from Lonnie now that she'd had a chance to remember what happened. Tomorrow, Lonnie would start working on winning her back.

        Shit, there was only about 15 minutes until they got here. Lonnie pushed open the door to the warehouse and...died and went to heaven.

        This was the ultimate. Maria curled up waiting for her, the candles flickering making her look molten. Maria reached an arm out to Lonnie, beseeching. And Maria was wearing her jacket, just as she was in the picture that Lonnie feel asleep staring at every night. Her green eyes gleamed.

        "Lonnie...come to me, please." That voice. Low and musical and knowing.

        "I thought you were working tonight." Lonnie's voice came out harsh and gutteral.

        "I switched with Liz. I wanted...needed you tonight." Maria stood up and began to walk towards Lonnie. Her hips swayed, hypnotizing Lonnie. She could hide Maria here, and when the business was finished... No. It was too dangerous.

        Lonnie did the hardest thing she ever had to do. Harder than sleeping with Nicholas, harder than spending hours listening to Rath bitch, way harder than killing Zan.

        "Baby, you have to leave. I have some business to conduct."

        Maria kept coming, wrapping her arms around Lonnie. "I want to stay."

        Lonnie slid her hands over Maria's smooth skin. It was so soft, and running her fingers around Maria's smooth ass, she could feel the welts she'd left there earlier. It both disturbed her and aroused her. Her fingers itched to plunge inside Maria, map out new territory. Her lips were at Maria's ear, promising her pleasure and strength, threatening and pleading. She shoved her thigh between Maria's legs and lifted the smaller girl, causing her to gasp.

        "I'm going to break you, little bitch. I bet you'll break so sweet, sugar girl."

        Maria sighed, happy with Lonnie's arms around her. The denim on Lonnie's thigh was rubbing her crease, causing waves of color to swim in front of her eyes.

        The sigh broke into Lonnie's lustful haze and brought her back to reality. Shit, she had 10 minutes to get Maria out of there. She set her down and firmly pushed Maria out to arm's length.

        "Maria, you need to leave."

        Maria couldn't frigging believe it. She pulled out all the stops and was getting kicked out? "Company coming over?" she asked, truly pissed.

        "It's business, but it's nothing you should be involved in. I'll come see you later."

        Maria was pulling her clothes on with lightning speed. "Don't bother. I think I'll be otherwise occupied. "

        Lonnie's blood ran cold. "If this is about what I said earlier, asking my permission to sleep with other people, forget it. I changed my mind. You'll see no one else."

        Maria stopped and gave Lonnie a cool look. "I really wasn't asking your permission."

        Michael Guerin heard the knock on the door and ran down his list of usual suspects. It could be the lady downstairs, telling him to turn the music down. It could be the lady from upstairs, asking him to join her and her boyfriend for some 'relaxation.' It could be the guy from next door, accusing him of being an alien. The first time he'd done this, Michael had freaked. Later he'd found out that the guy accused everyone of being an alien. Stopped clocks and all that.

        It could also be Max. It could be important. He opened the door.

        Holy shit. It was Maria. He hadn't gotten to spend any time with her since Lonnie got here. She'd been bolting at lunch every day, and he'd been left behind trying to think up plausible excuses for her absence to tell their over-curious friends. He'd have to remember to tell her she was now taking cello, tap and water safety classes.

        She looked beautiful. Well, she always looked beautiful. Tonight, she looked ravishing and not yet ravished. Yeah. She'd been strutting through school all week, oblivious to the lustful glances she was getting from, well, just about everybody. It had hurt Michael to look directly at her, she'd been so radiant.

        She was radiant now too, radiant and enraged. Shit, what had he done?

        "Can I come in?" Her voice was cool.

        "Uh, yeah" Scratching his eyebrow, he racked his brains for what he could have done to piss her off.

        As soon as she entered the apartment, she wheeled around and shoved him back into the closing door. Hard.

        "Shit, Maria!" She was scaring him a little bit. "What'd I do?"

        "Nothing. I need a favor."

        "Jesus. This is how you ask for a favor? Barge into someone's apartment, manhandle them and demand tribute? Chill, dominatrix girl." He blushed as soon as he realized what he'd just said. Great, Guerin. Guys do NOT blush.

        She stepped close, pinning him against the wall. He swallowed hard. Time for evasive action. "Fine, what do you need? If it'll keep you from whipping my ass, it's worth it."

        She smiled slowly and stepped even closer. Michael let his eyes drift closed as he felt her breath in his ear.

        "I need you to fuck me."

        OK, what? "Huh? I mean, well, huh?"

        "I need you to fuck me, Guerin." She sounded amused. "And I'm not making any promises on that ass whipping thing." Her low laughter seemed to travel down his spine. Her hands were already slipping his shirt over his shoulders, and her fingertips were cold as they slipped under his waistband to pull his wifebeater free.

        "What about your mistress of pain?" His voice sounded cold and sarcastic. He flinched as pain flashed in her eyes.

        "You want to know where she is? She's fucking some little tramp tonight. I have apparently been put out to pasture." Maria licked his throat, feeling his pulse beat faster. "Now, shall we continue?" Her hands slipped into his boxers, cradling him. He jerked back. Shit, had she dipped her hands in ice?

        "Maria, wait. We shouldn't do this." Michael tried to make his voice sound firm.

        "Oh, of course we shouldn't," Maria smirked. "We should only do things that have been fully discussed, and approved by a committee. We should have the forms signed in triplicate, attend classes on how to have a loving, adult relationship, and change our names to Max and Liz. C'mon, spaceboy, you're supposed to be the wild one, remember?"

        Maria dropped to her knees, bringing Michael's pants and boxers with her. His cock, hard and veined, was inches from her face. Maria blew cool air over the tip, and gently ran her fingers down the length. Michael sighed. So sweet.

        Fuck sweet. Maria wanted to bring him off as quickly as possible, make him an active participant instead of the cool bystander act he had perfected. She wrapped her lips around his cock, sucking hard while fluttering her fingertips around his balls. Michael groaned, his hips thrusting forward on their own accord. Wait, he couldn't let this happen. He wasn't some second string replacement for some chick who thought she was so tough she could grow a cock. Maria chose Lonnie, and that was the end of it. He pushed her back, and she hit the floor with a thump.

        "Maria, I think you'd better leave. I'm not your backup plan."

        Maria got to her feet, eyes blazing. "Look, Guerin. I'm not asking you to choose me above Max, or your destiny, or any of your goddamn prime directives. We've never been good at the couple thing but there has always been one thing we were outstanding at. And I thought maybe you could help me out, cause face it, you do owe me."

        "I don't owe you."

        "Oh, yeah? For helping you with pseudo-sister? For driving you God knows where in the Jetta how many times? For being there when you push me away over and over again?"

        "I'm not the one screwing someone else, alright, so back off!"

        "That's right, and me and Lonnie sickened you so much, you stood outside and watched beating off! Oh, clearly I disgust you. Look, I love you, but I've quit demanding you be something that you don't want to be. I am asking you to be something you are, namely, an incredibly hot fuck and a friend. Apparently, I ask too much."

        "Man, you're really degraded, aren't you? Lonnie twist you around that much?"

        "Ah, yes, the patron saint of sanctimony, everyone: Michael Guerin. Listen, you've liked it rough a time or two, OK? I've had to hide bruises before I ever met Lonnie, so you might want to spare me the sermon."

        Maria shoved Michael aside and opened the door.

        Michael slammed it shut. "Where are you going?"

        "Elsewhere."

        "For what?"

        "Satisfaction. And may I, for one, state that I cannot believe what an incredibly hard time I'm having getting it." She yanked the door open again.

        To have it slammed shut. And to her surprise and immense pleasure, to have her be shoved flush against it, her cheek pressed to the door. "I don't think you'll be going elsewhere," Michael rumbled low in her ear.

        "Why? You want to play yahtzee?"

        His hips moved forward, pinning her tighter to the wall. "Alright, you win, DeLuca." He kissed her neck, running his hands down her sides.

        "Then shall we move somewhere more comfortable?"

        "No." His hands trailed back up her arms, bringing them up, and pinning her wrists in one hand. Shit, her dress didn't have a zipper. He'd need to release her to pull it over her head. The hell he would.

        RIP.

        Maria opened her mouth to complain, but all that came out was a low moan. Oh, yeah, THIS was why she loved Michael Guerin. He ripped the shoulder seams as well and the dress tumbled to the floor, and he moved his body back pinning her.

        "No underwear?" His voice, low and amused, against the back of her neck.

        "I, uh, lost it." What the hell was she saying?

        He knelt behind her, running his hands down her pause, and suddenly stilled.

        Shit. She had forgotten the welts. She stood still, waiting, dreading his disgust. Would he send her home? Or, even worse, sit her down and explain to her gently that she needed counseling.

        She felt a tongue on her buttock, tracing a line. His fingertips were slowly tracing her other bruises. She shivered.

        "Maria?"

        "Yeah?"

        "What did it feel like? Y'know, when she did this to you?"

        She heard curiosity and something deeper in his voice. But no disgust, no censure.

        "It felt like, like...," she struggled to find the words, "like, 'Daddy's home', y'know?"

        She could feel him splay his hands over her buttocks and begin to knead. The pain, which had faded much earlier, was back, burning and spreading and heating her up. Michael stood up behind her, and slowly guided his cock into her. Then he began to thrust up, over and over. Her body would be pushed harder into the door, then pulled back with him, like a ride on a pornographic teeter totter. Her butt was burning as he drove his hips into it again and again, reassuring her. Making her feel owned again.

        Her crest was coming quickly, and she began to shake. As the first spasms sounded in her belly, she heard Michael whisper low in her ear, amusement in his voice.

        "Hey, Maria. Who's your daddy now?"

        Later, lying on the floor, Michael ran his fingers through her hair.

        "Maria, I love you, y'know."

        "Yeah," she smiled. "But you're not going to be the master of my domain, are you?" She leaned up and kissed him. "It's OK. I love you."

        "What was it like?"

        "Being with Lonnie? Like...everything snapped into focus. You didn't need to worry about what people thought, or what they weren't telling you. All the worry about if there was supposed to be something you were supposed to do, only you were the only person who didn't know about it...you know that feeling? All that went away and was replaced by knowing exactly what you were supposed to do, and for whom. I'm not explaining it well. I guess...look, there was pain and difficulty, but no anxiety or guilt, anywhere in your life, any more. Everything about yourself that you feel you need to hide, everything you felt dirty about, was transformed into something beautiful and powerful. Your inner shame became things to be praised."

        "It sounds good."

        "Yeah, it was."

        "OK, I better be going." Maria stood up, and held out her dress for Michael to stitch back up with his 'secret Jeannie alien powers.'

        "I'll see you home."

        "I've got the Jetta. You'd have to walk back in the rain."

        "That's OK, for I am Michael Guerin, gallant knight errant."

        "Idiot."

Continue to Part Seven

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