**Updated to fix a minor continuity error near the end**

THIS IS ALMOST CERTAINLY THE FINAL CHAPTER. I had the first draft finished a long, looooooong time before last season ended, but a bunch of different life-related issues made it difficult for me to focus on getting a FINAL draft locked and publish ready. But here it is, finally. It's wrong, and obscene, and everything all you lovely pervs expect from my work. Thanks so much for all the feedback, I've had so much fun with this series!

"A whole three days with no baby," Emma sighed. "It's gonna be weird. What am I forgetting?" She fowned, rifling through the diaper bag "Tippy cup?"

Killian laughed gently, as his daughter squirmed her way onto the couch to sit in his lap. "Come on, Swan, Henry and Chloe have plenty of tippies at their place. Don't they?" he turned his attention to the cheerful almost-toddler. "And also your favorite little spoons, and legos, and a thousand books about farm animals," he scooped her into his arms as he stood up. "Mum and Dad would never leave our Lydia in unqualified hands."

"My kid has a his own place." Emma groaned. "Where he lives. With a woman."

"Best adjust soon, the lad's been ring shop . . . ing . . ." he finished the word with a cringe. "Dammit, I used to be good at keeping secrets."

Emma's eyes went saucer-wide. "He actually told you this? Specifically? Have you helped? Why hasn't he told me?" The questions spewed out like water through a cracked dam. "Has he asked your advice? Did you tell him he's too young? Because he is way-"

"Henry has always been older than his years," Killian interrupted. "Chloe seems quite the same. And besides," he paused to kiss his wife's temple, "Your boy knows better than most what True Love looks like. I rather think he'd recognize it anywhere."

"Still . . . " Emma stroked her daughter's back as Killian handed her over. "My kid."

"Is grown, love." Killian didn't so much interrupt as finish the sentence. "A boy of twenty is a man. That said," he turned his attention back to Lydia, "we're not letting you grow up ever, dearest. Ten. You may turn ten, but we draw the line there!" He booped her nose then quickly ducked when she tried to return the attack. "Off you go now. Give Henry my best."

"Will do." Emma bounced Lydia on her hip as they trotted to the door. ""Sleepover party for Lydia, weeeeeeeee!"

Her husband held the door open and waved as they dashed to the car. As far as Emma knew he was staying at home to clean house in her absence. So she could return to the rare treat of a floor uncluttered by toys, stuffed animals, barrettes, little socks, dropped cheerios and various other snack debris, etc. But Killian had far more ambitious plans.

The few times they'd "played" since the Lydia was born it had been quick, muted, and beyond tame compared to the bygone era of t-chairs and frantically shouted pleas or demands. The trade-off was, of course, more than worth it for the joy of raising their daughter, but in the week or so leading up to her stay with Henny (she'd yet to master the "r" in Henry) he and Emma both knew that her absence would present the perfect opportunity to finally go all out again. Really, really play.

Killian got the obligatory clean up out of the way as fast as possible, then went over the fine details of his scene to make sure everything was perfect. He hadn't the slightest concern as to what he wife's response might be. She hadn't shot him "the look" exactly, but their mutual anticipation rendered the look a needless formality. Under the circumstance, gameplay was a given. A over a year of practically nothing? Yeah, his Princess would definitely want to play. ASAP.

Hence his total lack of restraint when she returned home. He listened to the garage door close. Car door shut. Footsteps.

Now.

Emma's feet hadn't even crossed the threshold before Hook lunged and grabbed her by the throat, steering her back into the garage with a fixed, cold stare. "Need I remind you of the rules?"

"No, Sir." Emma whispered with a delighted shiver. Don't smile, don't smile, don't smile!

"I expect . . . ?" Her Owner quizzed.

"Good manners."

"Perfect manners!" He released her throat, spun her around and pinned her to the car, arms pulled taut behind her back. "Which entails what?"

"Ummmmmmm . . ." damn, you are out of practice! Emma chastised herself. Catch up! "Obedience . . ." she breathed, "servitude . . . gratitude . . ."

"Specifics!" Hook growled in her ear, "or you're not worth my while."

"I say please and thank you, uh . . . grovel, beg, suffer anything. I'll be a good Toy, I promise!"

Hook gave her arms a harsh pull and pressed closer. "A goddamn PlayStation is a good toy!"

She caught the hint immediately. "I'll be a good whore, Sir. Your Slave, pain slut-" she let her voice rise louder and louder with each listed quality, near giddy with the freedom to do so. Finally a real game."All I want is orders, anything you-"

"Enough!"

Not a single syllable escaped Emma's mouth for what felt like minutes. She froze.

"Well done." The Owner she missed so much chuckled and slipped a hand beneath her shirt, a soft, roaming touch. "My creature does remember. So it's a matter of how much she can take . . ." the soft touch turned forceful, nails raking just shy of hard enough to break skin, pausing only to unfasten her bra. "Might take me a moment to get my end of the bargain right." he whispered in her ear. "Recall how bedst to satisfy her darkness," . . . a soft kiss to her throat . . . "challenge her . . ." more feather-kisses . . . "Break her down to utter servitude."

Again a firm hand returned to her throat.

"Will you tolerate me re-learning the trade?"

"Of course," his toy nodded vigorously. "Thank you. I'll be good."

"Doubtless," he purred. "However, my advance apologies if I wear out before you're a broken worthless mess. This game ends whenever I'm done, regardless the state you're in. Understood?"

Emma nodded.

"Right then. How shall we begin? Pain or task?" Hook mused while slowly removed her shirt and bra. "Pain or task . . . ?

Emma's pulse rose as she waited for her Owner's decision. Orders! her inner voice screamed, impatient. In part because she was eager to play, but also because a task would help her ignore the cold air of their unheated garage. Come on! Anything! It felt like forever before she got her wish.

"Naked. Now."

"Yes, Sir."

Rather than watch her undress, Hook strolled to the wall behind her where various items hung from nails. Wrenches, hammers, twine, masking tape. He selected the tape.

Despite the cold, Emma struggled not to smile when she heard the quick rip of tape being pulled from a roll.

"Turn 'round and spell out our safeword in sign language-just so I know you remember."

The order told Emma he meant to tape her mouth shut. He barely waited for her fingers to finish the last letter before proving her right.

"Eyes closed! . . . Now follow my voice."

Emma moved slow as Hook lead her around the room, occasionally bumping into this and that, the usual garage debris. After several minutes, without warning, she felt herself grabbed by the waist and pushed face down on the hood of the car. From there, he arranged her pliant body in silence. Face turned to one side, hair swept back. Arms outstretched, fingertips dangling over the hood's edge. Legs spread. "There," he whispered.

The warmth of his body loomed close over hers, and she could feel his breath on her neck.

"You're to remain in this pose exactly, Swan. Be a statue."

The wonderful heat of his body went away, and loud music filled the room. Booming loud. All that rose above it was the sound of a door slamming shut. He's gone back inside, she realized. One song ended. Then a second. Then a third. Then a fourth. God, it's so cold out here! She struggled not to squirm or shiver. Midway through the fifth song the tape was ripped from her mouth and a paddle struck her hard on the ass. The music had drowned out Hook's stealthy return.

"Make all the noise you like!" He yelled, wielding the paddle without relent.

TooMuchTooMuchTooMuchTooMuch! The toy's mind chanted as she wailed and cried. Though just as in years past, she regarded the thundering urge to quit as a challenge. Fuck off, she told the rational response. Remember how to submit, you can do this! She'd missed the desperate thrill. Missed standing on the precarious edge of surrender, tethered to endurance by nothing but the need to please her Master. To step out of herself and be at his mercy, fearless and determined.

Also as before, Hook trusted his his toy. If any particular 'no' or 'stop' actually meant a damn thing, he'd hear the safeword.

The playlist was seven songs long. When it ended Hook dropped the paddle, inspecting his work with pride. "A decent start, yes?" He asked.

"Y-yesssss," Emma warbled, gulping for air.

"I'd offer to keep at it for another few songs but honestly, my arm is tired." He pulled her upright by the hair. "I may hurt you more later, dear toy. But for now: crawl."

Emma followed as he lead the way back into the house. It did not escape her notice that the roll of tape came with them.

"Flat on your back," Hook ordered when they reached the end of the hallway between their bedroom and the living room. The plaything obeyed, and he knelt down by her side, eyes locked to hers. "Would you like to get me off?" He asked as a hand traveled between her thighs, the other holding the roll of tape.

"Mmhm," his slave nodded.

"Pussy would be quite nice . . . " two fingers slid inside her. "But I think your mouth needs to be punished first. Are you prepared to take it?"

"Yes, Sir."

Hook grinned, fingers traveling deeper, met by the tense and ripple of slick flesh. "This thing is more than ready for one hell of a fuck, that's clear."

She knew he wouldn't do it. He'd absolutely follow through on fucking her mouth first, but it was all she could do not to beg for at least a harder thrust of fingers, if only for a minute.

"Lucky for me . . . " he withdrew his fingers and pushed her legs together. "My slut loves all manner of cock. Correct?"

"Yes," Emma whipsered, her core still pulsing for friction that wouldn't return. At least not for a while.

With that, he taped her up from ankle to calf three layers deep. Hands as well, from palm to wrist. "So, here's the game," Hook explained as he rose to his feet and strolled casually to the other end of the hall, undoing his belt as he went."Free yourself before I cum, and I'll finish in your throat," he began slowly stroking himself. "Fail, and you spend the better part of today in the bedroom with nothing but a vibrator for entertainment."

Hell no! She cringed, writhing against her restraints.

"Mmmmmmmm," her Master sighed. "I'd still consider having a go later on. Missionary. Lights off."

"Please," she mewled breathlessly, "I'll do it, I'll do it, please wait!"

"I'm going as slow as I can bear to, you tragic disaster!" Hook shouted, a bit jarred to hear such words booming through the hallway, rather than whispered during little one's nap time. "Just mind your bloody task!"

"Yes, Sir," Emma started to feel a tiny bit of give in the tape. "Sorry."

"Indeed you are," Hook said with a sneer. "In so many ways."

She tugged the tape between her teeth, wriggled her legs, kicked and lurched, the sound of her husband pleasuring himself providing plenty of motivation.

"Mmmmmmm," Hook mused. "That's the spirit," He sped his stroke. "Oh, Swan. Ooooooooh, I'd much prefer your mouth finish me . . ." he watched as his toy got her right hand halfway free, and a hopeful tingle shot through his body. "I want the sound . . . that noise you make when I push deep . . . "

Thumbs, she thought, if I can just get my thumbs free! It wasn't just the physical struggle making her heart pound, but also the escalating worry that her Owner might actually finish himself off, leaving her purpose unfulfilled.

"Such a perfect whore," he hissed and grit his teeth, determined to stave off orgasm without ceasing masturbation. The threat must be real, mate! She needs to know you'll do it. "So many fine uses . . . "

Finally! Emma thought when her thumbs did manage to break free. She could tell Hook was teetering on the brink. Hurry! Hurry! HURRY!" Pure adrenaline flooded her system, and the struggle went from vigorous to outright frantic. failure wasn't an option as far as she was concerned. Goddamn, you're out of practice! Do your fucking job! She took a deep breath, rallied all the strength she could muster and finally got her right hand free. Now the legs!

Rather than watch the incredible show he'd arranged, Hook instead stared at the wall. Specifically, a bizarre painting his wife insisted on calling 'art.' The distraction barely helped. He couldn't block out the sound of her panting, or gasping, or the damn tape unraveling. All together it was nearly enough to defeat him. She needs you to hold out, he reminded himself, remembering the day he first wrote that letter. So proud of himself. No idea how difficult the job would prove to be as he penned those few simple words:

I can not be a proper playmate if I don't know the rules. Teach me, and the game is on!

~ Yours in all things,

Killian Jones or Captain Hook, as the Lady wishes

It occurred to him suddenly that referring to her as 'the Lady' was a mistake. Not in keeping with their respective roles. Never mind, you were new. He also flashed back to his initial discomfort with treating her this way. The nervous, nagging voice inside telling him to back off, ease up, that she couldn't possibly want absolute cruelty. Silly fool. Though on the subject of cruelty . . . It occurred to him that he'd been speaking with a bit too much fondness the last few moments. He couldn't let her down. Not after they'd gone so long without a proper Game. Do. Not. FAIL! He tore his eyes from the wall, determined to rise to their former standard. "You are this close to being useless!" He growled. There you are, Pirate! Keep going! "Have you gone weak?"

"No!" Shouted Emma, only one layer of tape left to go. So close.

Hook scoffed. "Doubtful."

"I haven't!" The toy insisted, finally breaking free to fulfill her purpose. God I hope I'm right! All worry vanished the moment she scrambled within Hook's reach. His hand fisted tight in her hair and pulled, forcing her head back. Be ready.

"That took far too long!" He admonished bitterly, pulling harder. "I've half a mind to spare you any more arduous work and just cum on your face!"

"Nononono!" His Plaything begged. "Please let me take it, please, I need it!" She knew right away those last words were a mistake.

"Need?" His eyes brimmed with anger. "You selfish-do you suppose I give a fuck what you need?!"

"No," the toy whined, the sting of humiliation far worse than Master's fierce tugging at her hair. "I'm sorry."

"Right!" He sneered. "Trash has no needs, I owe you NOTHING!"

"I-I know," she stammered, worried he may deprive her of cock at punishment for the offense. "I'm so, so s-s-sorry."

"Prove it!" Hook demanded, pushing his shaft deep into her passive mouth. "Suck." She went to work with usual diligence, and a long moan escaped him despite his greatest effort to withhold from her any hint praise. Let her earn it, these details matter! "At last . . . " he sighed, dizzy with relief, " . . . she remembers obedience. You may use your hands as well."

Emma chose an assertive stroke, and readied her throat to accept a harsh thrust.

"Lovely," Her Master purred, his body still as marble.

No thrust.

"Much better."

No thrust.

No thrust.

No thrust.

Even his grip on her hair loosened somewhat.

Will this be a normal blowjob? Rather than ponder the question, Emma stayed focused on lapping up pre-cum and stroking, reveling in Hook's every quaking breath.

It seemed to go on forever until finally: "Take it!" The demand was accompanied by a thrust so forceful, she almost fumbled. Almost.

"Ngh, ngh, ngh, ngh," went Emma's muffled, half-choked reply to every aggression. A little deeper . . . deeper . . . Her arms shook with the urge let go and sign lemon, but the dedicated submissive in her, as always, danced with joy at the challenge. "Ngh, ngh, ngh, ngh . . ." He'll have to cum at some point . . . he'll be so proud of you . . . that fact made surviving the continuous onslaught almost easy.

Hook, meanwhile, marveled at his pet's always unshakable fortitude. No two on earth so lucky as us, he thought as the last of his willpower dissolved and he came, delighting in subtle noise of Swan's effort to swallow. "Well done," he whispered, easing himself out of her mouth. "Did it hurt?"

"Yes," the Plaything croaked with a nod.

"Did you like it?"

"Of course."

Hook considered what to do next. Even in planned scenes, he always left a few blank spots to allow for spontaneity. "Hmmmmm. I think . . . ." He withdrew a phone from his back pocket. "Smile for the camera. Good. Now, for the record, what did I just do to you?"

"Fucked my throat."

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Did you like it?"

"Of course."

"Mmhm," Hook nodded. "Anything else to add?"

Manners. "Thank you, Sir."

He drew a deep breath, and chuckled. "Impossible to convey on film, but I can smell the wet on her from here. Throat thrashed to bits and still she wants. Fine, I suppose," Hook turned off the phone with a sigh. "You may touch yourself, but remain on your knees, and if you cum do so in silence." With that he left the room.

Emma slid both hands between her legs, beginning with a slow massage, middle finger moving in soft circles on her clit. How long before he fucks me?" She wondered, eyes fluttering shut and three fingers sliding into her warm depth as she imagined the possibilities. Will it be the last thing? Will I have to work all day? So many potential scenes played through her mind as the act escalated from petting and rubbing to riding her own hands. Don't even breathe too loud! When climax did arrive, it happened in absolute silence, a pantomime of shaking flesh.

Hook returned to the room moments later, teacup in one hand, a small bowl in the other, both of which he set down on the dresser.

"Hmmmmmm," her Owner mused, kneeling down to carefully inspect her hands, as one would whilst considering a desired purchase. "Yes. . . this will do." he held her gaze, and drew each wet finger into his mouth one at a time. "There," he whispered, "now you taste of cock, and I taste of slut." A hint of menace flashed through his eyes for one teasing moment, then vanished. "Tea?"

WHAT? Emma barely managed not to shout aloud. Tea break?

"That throat has taken quite the thrashing, so yours has plenty of honey," Hook explained as he set the bowl down in front of her. "Be a good pet now."

Emma nodded and went to all fours, lapping up the soothing liquid as fast as she could while Hook watched, perched on the edge of their bed, neatly sipping his tea like a mannered aristocrat. He allowed her to finish a little more than more than half before kicking the bowl across the room.

"Never mind the mess, you'll deal with it later. Close your eyes."

"Yes, Sir." She obeyed, listening carefully to every sound for a hint of what might happen next. Closet door opened. Rummaging . . . closet door closed. Crossing the room . . . drawer opened, closed . . . she did her best to hold still as the sound of his pacing drew close, circling around and around her body.

"Hmmmmmmmm . . . . "

Do something!

"So much unmarked flesh . . . "

Anything!

She failed to restrain an eager shudder when the crop first traced her shoulder blades, then meandered gently up and down her back.

"I worry . . . the casual observer may think me a negligent Master . . . or worse . . . even assume you've no one to keep you in your place-"

Emma heard the sharp whoosh of the crop rising high and fast, and braced herself, heart pounding as though everything about the moment was a totally new experience.

Hook brought the crop down with more force than he'd dared deliver in ages, impressed and proud when his Swan managed not to scream. Oh, but we'll get there. " . . . to keep you mindful," he swung again, "of your purpose!"

STRIKE!

STRIKE!

STRIKE!

Emma did everything she could think of to release pressure without shrieking in pain. She hissed, gasped, clawed the floor, allowing herself only guttural moans through clenched teeth. It went on and on, until her every muscle burned with the effort to bear more just one more second. Her back, ass, arms, thighs, the crop found it all, nothing remained pristine. "Please, Sir!" She cried out finally, "I can't, I can't, I c-AH! I can't, I can't—"

"Oh, can't you?!" Hook dropped to his knees and bellowed in her ear. "All the awful punishments I've seen you take-beg for, even-and now a paltry few minutes with the crop is too much?" He dropped the instrument on the ground, fished four silver claw rings out of his pocket, and slipped them on each index and ring finger. "Does my creature forget herself so completely?" He let the cold talons slowly spider-crawl down her back. "Does she need reminding?"

Emma took a deep breath to gather herself before warbling the reply, "Yes, Sir."

"Very well." Hook moved behind his Toy and nudged her legs apart. He gripped her inner right thigh in a vicious massage. " . . . what are you?"

"Pa-ah! Pain slut," Emma whined quietly, hips rocking despite the pain when one slender talon began stroking her clit. Before she could go on with the litany of other degrading titles she had in mind, Hook suddenly flipped her over without warning. "FUCK!" She cried out, eyes flung wide open with shock as her back hit the floor.

"Perhaps," her Owner growled, moving between her legs. "but not yet. Now go on. What are you?"

Given no instruction to close her yes again, Emma kept them open. "Cock slave, mmmmmm," she moaned as talons attacked her hips and abdomen. "Cum h, h, hungry trash, greed-AH! Greedy whore, uh . . . " heat swelled in her core and a troublesome fog invaded her mind as Hook's teeth sunk into the rise of her breast. "Mindless slut, fuck doll. . . " a trail of angry red or deep purple marks were left in her Owner's wake as he traveled down her body in no hurry whatsoever. A thin sheen of sweat covered her whole body by the time he finally relented, rearing back on his haunches.

"I suppose I can forgive a touch of forgetfulness and fuck you anyhow." He panted, petting his toy's well slicked pussy. "For my part . . . ? I admit I forgot how wildly fuck starved you become when I destroy you. Ruin your flawless body." He teased a thumb at her entrance, barely pressing inside. "Even if you've been plenty worked over hardly an hour before, less even, it's like you've gone ages without!" He removed the silver talons from one hand, and easily thrust three fingers deep into wet, pulsing muscle.

God, you're right, Emma thought, nearly losing her damn mind as his thumb circled her clit while the still-taloned fingers of his right hand stroked and kneaded her thighs. "Aaaaaaah, yes . . ." The fingers inside her began to stretch and scissor aggressively with each inward thrust. "Mm! Mm! Mmmmm!" She mewled.

"Now you may ask," Hook whispered with a teasing grin.

"Please!" His toy spoke immediately. ""Please fuck me, however you want, as long as it's in me, I want it so much, please!"

The slick flesh surrounding Hook's fingers was starting to quiver. She's close. It took monumental effort on his part not to give in and lunge toward satisfaction, but as always her needs took priority. Instead he reared up on his knees, undid his pants, and settled (for now) for stroking himself. "So she wants a fuck . . . I could always summon a handsome young thing to do the job."

"No!" Emma shook her head, almost afraid he meant it.

"Cock with probably twice my stamina—" he forced himself not to stroke faster as the narration grew more cruel.

"No! I'm yours, Sir! Only—"

"Yes," he ignored her, "I think a younger, larger cock should have a go. Don't ruined sluts enjoy—"

"I don't care!" The toy insisted, voice warbling. ""You own me, I d-don't care about young or big or—"

"Pathetic!" Hook hurled the word down like a brick, stroking himself faster. "Can't even manage to be a proper slut? Sad failure you are! But," he sighed, "if it shuts you the hell up?" He pushed her legs apart, buried his length in her heat, and quickly pulled out to almost full withdraw before thrusting to the hilt again. And again. And again.

"Mmhm-mm-mm-mm-" Emma's sore, crop-marked body screamed, a protest the determined sub easily dismissed. Take it!

Her Owner finished, stood up, and tucked himself away without ceremony. As if nothing of of note had just taken place. "Hm." He mused, eyes landing on the kicked over bowl of tea. "Right. Lick that mess up. Then go shower off, cold water. And um . . . after that, do as you please I suppose—but stay clear of the living room," he tacked on quickly. "I'm sure you expect a full day's worth of humiliation, so I've a few things to prepare."

"Yes, Sir."

"And don't count on another fuck today," Hooked called out as he strolled down the hallway. "Maybe tomorrow if I feel inclined."

Emma got to work cleaning the floor, then spent five minutes beneath a stream of cold water. Back in the bedroom, she put on a sheer black bra and panties, covered by an outfit from their 'church whore' collection. It was nice to have game-related items that seemed totally innocuous hanging in a closet next to everyday clothes. She settled in with a book and waited for orders. Despite the fact her whole body throbbed with the recent ferocity of punishment and payment, she somehow managed to become engrossed in the plot. Chapter after chapter without new orders. Then she heard a faint sound that made her heart sink. SNORING? SERIOUSLY?—-Focus. On. Book. Luckily it was an excellent book, so she did manage some success. Though not enough to keep her from noticing the moment the snoring stopped. Oh thank God! The efforts she'd endured thus far were starting to feel too familiar, and she was more than ready to keep playing. . . . . Snoring stopped . . . . is he awake . . . .? Yes! . . . keep reading! She riveted her gaze to the book and struggled to remain patient.

Finally, her Owner strode into the room. "Drop that now," was the terse command. "Eyes forward."

Blindfold went on first. Then leather collar, chain leash attached.

"Stand up!" Hook yanked up her skirt the moment she was on her feet. "Take off that nonsense."

She heard him move away and then return to her. A pussy toy was pushed into her hands, and she recognized the shape. One of their wifi controlled vibrators.

"Put it in."

She obeyed, expecting to feel the device turn on right away. It didn't.

Hook easily read his toy's disappointment. "Ugh," he groaned with a harsh tug on her leash. "Patience you greedy filth!"

Emma winced. "Yes, Sir."

Another harsh tug. "Obnoxious slave!" He wrapped the chain around his hand twice and pulled her to all fours. "To the living room. Bump into anything and I'll drag you the rest of the way."

The toy nodded, proceeding with caution, immensely proud of herself when she did manage to reach the living room without incident. She held still and listened to her Master detach the chain and fixed her leash to what she knew from the weight was their longest chain. Far heavier. Oooooooooh, her spine tingled as the pussy toy finally started to vibrate gently. A perfect tease.

Hook turned it off. Then on again. Then off. Then on again. Always a soft vibration.

"Wriggle and clench all you like love," Master purred. "You've earned a bit of friction."

Emma's heart swelled at the praise. "Thank you, Sir."

"Now, I've placed five index cards around the room. Find them all and we'll sort them through. Make a few decisions." He laughed. "I'll even allow my toy an opinion. Generous, yes?"

"Very," the toy declared. "Very generous."

Hook let go of the chain, and his perfect Plaything began creeping through the room, arms sweeping side to side in search of a card.

"Fair warning, whore. Keep me waiting longer than ten minutes and the most I'll use you the rest of the day is a light pussy licking at sundown. You can read your book in the meantime."

Fuck no! Emma thought, pulse hitching. Her search picked up a great deal of urgency, and the vibrator's pulse got stronger every time she found a new card. She found the fifth card with only a few minutes to spare. Eight minutes. The collar stayed on, but she sighed with relief when Hook detached the heavy chain.

"You may take off the blindfold," he said, his voice butter-soft voice as he pulled her onto his lap at the dining table . "You get an opinion as promised . . . read them aloud."

Emma splayed out the cards and cleared her throat. "Card one: Write new shirt, wear to grocery store beneath sweater," next card, "narrate shortcomings while bent over a chair and spanked," next, "wear ball gag and try to read aloud original rules list while being recorded, expect mocking," next, "call Brown Eyes, let her give orders," last, "choke on cock again when Master feels ready."

"Pick. Three." Hook gently nibbled her earlobe and shoulders, in sharp contrast to the aggressive kneading of her breasts.

Emma sighed and rocked her hips against his groin, hoping to wake something to life.

"Stop."

She froze in place.

"You were instructed to choose. Now, I appreciate it must be a monumental task for you, but at least try to tear a few brain cells away from getting fucked and DO AS YOU'RE TOLD!"

"Uh . . ." The plaything's hands shook as she rallied, focused on obedience. "Ball gag and rules list," she slid the card forward. "call Brown Eyes . . . and . . .my throat could take it all day, but I know you're tired, so . . . new shirt and grocery store."

"Mmmmmmmm," Hook smiled and nuzzled her throat, placing an abundance of soft kisses. "Such a thoughtful creature. In exchange for the kindness, I'll bandage you up, those talons broke skin in a few places," he nipped at her earlobe, "and the Mother of my child ought not be left bleeding."

She wanted to say something to her husband, but it violated the rules of play. There was only one choice. "Lemon," she muttered with a soft smile.

"Really?" said Hook, eyebrow upraised in curious doubt. Emma's smile grew, and he encircled his arms around her on force of instinct.

"Just for a second, I promise. It's just . . . how did we ever even happen?" She asked, as though suddenly forgetting the entire saga of their previous history.

"We happened," Killian pulled her close and snuggled, "Because once upon a time the unlikeliest of pairs taught themselves how to play well together."