AN: So...this is the second part in our series about Clarke's emotional healing via BDSM. We hope you enjoy it. Just a warning, however: it mentions certain canon events that took place on a day that shall forever live in infamy. Obviously, in this 'verse, Lexa survived, but if you think that reading about Clarke reliving those events through sex might be triggering for you, it might be best not to read this one. We don't go into much detail, but it's there.

Otherwise, we hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think of our filthy, filthy sin in the comments, or [a] ohhedamyheda and [a] raedmagdon on tumblr!

. . .

Control

With N1ghtWr1ter

. . .

Clarke blinks, raising one arm to shield her eyes from the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window. The harsh glare is enough to wake her, but to her dismay, the warm body that should have been curled up next to hers is absent. She yawns, flopping onto her back and trying to summon the will to throw off the plush fur covers. It's a rare morning that she wakes without Lexa by her side, rare enough that she feels the urge to leave her warm cocoon of blankets and go in search of her lover.

After a few deep breaths and a jaw-cracking yawn, she pushes herself into a sitting position, wincing as she stretches out her muscles. There is a crick in her neck, and her spine and shoulders are stiff as well, probably from all the contorting she did the night before. Once they had returned to their room after their encounter on the training grounds, Lexa had been exceedingly sweet and tender with her, but she still feels deliciously ravished. On impulse, she cups a hand between her legs, curious to see how much soreness remains.

Thankfully, all she finds is wetness. Lexa's rough use of her out in the clearing—use her soul had been hungry for—and soft, gentle treatment once they had retired to their rooms has left her body humming and alive, even all these hours later. She smiles and throws off the covers, feeling warm enough to brave the cool morning air thanks to her flush. Although she isn't sure where Lexa has gone, Clarke suspects she'll find her in the throne room. Her lover usually doesn't disappear without warning unless it's work-related.

"Okay," she says, speaking out loud to give her raspy morning-voice some use. "Clothes first. I can't go wandering around the tower naked..."

A slight shudder travels down her spine at the thought. The ache she's been carrying in her chest has felt much lighter ever since her whispered, post-coital conversation with Lexa, but apparently the appeal of getting caught in such a vulnerable position hasn't worn off. Heat stirs between her legs, and she makes a face as she pulls on a fresh pair of leggings and shoves her arms through the sleeves of her shirt. She doesn't really have any particular desire for anyone other than Lexa to see her naked, but she can't deny that the idea is appealing in theory.

Once she's dressed, she heads to the washroom with a skip in her step. After splashing some water on her face and combing her fingers through her hair, she feels presentable enough to go in search of Lexa. Even though it's early, her thoughts have already veered toward the seductive. She wants to repay Lexa for her help the night before, especially since she knows the dominant role her lover took during their brief struggle for control isn't natural. It normally requires a fair amount of coaxing to draw Lexa into that kind of mindset, and she's impressed by how spectacularly her Heda had risen to the occasion.

As she walks through the halls of the tower, she's surprised to find them mostly abandoned. There aren't as many guards at their posts as usual, and the closer she draws to the throne room, the more her brow furrows. Is everyone at breakfast already? I didn't sleep that late, did I? Or did Lexa order the guards to clear out? That last possibility makes her pick up her pace. Perhaps Lexa is expecting her after all...

When she arrives at the doors to the throne room and realizes that there are no guards stationed outside, she is more certain than ever that she has guessed right. She pushes them open without knocking, smiling as she takes in the sight of Lexa seated on her throne. She is dressed in full armor, head held high, looking as poised and regal as ever. However, a warm smile spreads across her face, softening her stony expression and melting Clarke's heart.

"Good morning, niron, " Lexa says, gesturing her over with a friendly wave. "I was hoping you would find me here. I've been waiting for you."

"Waiting for what, exactly?" Clarke asks, but when she reaches the throne, she doesn't wait for a response. Instead, she cups Lexa's cheek, bending down to place a kiss on her tempting lips. It's a warm and familiar exchange, full of the same tenderness they had shared last night, and it takes her a long time to pull back again.

Lexa's lashes flutter, her green eyes shining with love and affection. "I was getting to that. You are... very distracting."

Clarke grins. "Can't say I'm sorry. Besides, you enjoyed my distractions yesterday." She leans in for another kiss, and Lexa tilts her head up to meet Clarke's eager mouth with her own. But to her surprise, the Commander pulls away much sooner than she'd like. She looks into Lexa's lust-darkened green eyes questioningly and finds that they've gone serious.

"That was what I wanted to talk to you about, actually."

Clarke lets her mouth fall into a pout. She doesn't use this particular expression often, but she knows from experience that it's nearly impossible for Lexa to resist sinking her teeth into Clarke's lower lip. "I don't understand why we have to talk at all," Clarke says, pushing her chest out a little further than is strictly necessary. She sees Lexa gulp, and grins a little wider. On more than one occasion, she's managed to make the Commander forget words in the middle of a heated argument with her councilors by this very gesture.

Today, however, Heda 's self-control is maddeningly in place. Lexa's eyes plunge into the dip of her cleavage for just a moment before drawing back up again with a nearly audible wrench. Clarke sees Lexa let out a breath before saying, a bit shakily, "We need to talk about what happened yesterday."

Clarke's stomach drops. While they've spoken a bit about what happened on the training ground, Lexa mercifully hasn't pressed her. She knows it was probably foolish to hope that Lexa wouldn't want an explanation of her behavior, but the truth is, she's not quite sure why she did it. She isn't certain she wants to know.

Attempting to affect nonchalance, she places her hands on the arms of the throne and shrugs, deliberately exaggerating the motion of her chest. "I don't really know what that was," she says, giving Lexa a wide smile accompanied by a flirtatious lowering of her eyelashes, so she can look up at the Commander through them. She knows it's a bit ridiculous, but she really, really doesn't want to talk about this. Not to anyone, but especially not to Lexa, who seems to have the ability to see right through her carefully constructed facades and misdirections and read her very soul.

Lexa gives her a look that's simultaneously understanding and firm, and Clarke averts her eyes, knowing that she's lost. She's not quite certain why she thought she could conceal this from her lover in the first place. Clarke looks away, trying to consider her options. No way I can convince her it's not a big deal. If she didn't get that from yesterday, she definitely gets it now.

And then there's a hand gripping her chin, gently but firmly turning her head. Lexa's deep green eyes, the same color as the deep forests that Clarke first landed in when she fell to earth, are shining with love and kindness. " Ai hodnes, this is nothing to be ashamed of. I cannot say I understand, but…I would like to. It seems to me that you're carrying a wound inside of you, one that's not yet healed. You healed me once," she says, reaching down to touch the fabric of her shirt that, Clarke knows, conceals the ugly many-pointed star that marks where a bullet nearly took her lover's life. It's still a place she can scarcely bear to touch, even though it's long since healed. Any time she does, she's back there all over again, blood pouring through her fingers as she tries desperately to stop the tide from carrying Lexa to the next shore.

"Now let me do the same for you," Lexa says, bringing her back to the present.

Clarke bites her lip to hold back the sudden tears that are stinging in her eyes. Okay, maybe Lexa's right. Maybe it's not the gunshot wound that hasn't healed, but me.

"How are you going to try and 'help' me?" she asks, the seductiveness gone from her voice. Her mood has taken a sudden, dark turn, and she can't help but wonder if the same pain that had been searching so desperately for an outlet the night before has been lurking beneath the surface all along this morning. She might have closed her wound, but it still hasn't healed.

Lexa's fingers feather through her hair, combing out some of the tangles left over from sleep. "That is what I was going to ask you. Did our encounter out on the training grounds bring you some relief?"

That, at least, was an easier question to answer. She nods. After all her lover has done to help her, the least she can do is be honest.

"Can you explain why?"

Clarke's mouth pulls into a frown. Coming up with the right words is difficult. She isn't even sure she understands it herself. "This is going to sound terrible, but it's freeing? You know, when you take control of me. I can forget all the things I feel guilty about, all the things I've done..." She swallows hard, looking once more at Lexa's stomach. It is covered, but she can picture the scar clearly. All the things that are my fault...

Lexa's voice snaps her out of her thoughts. "I understand. When we make love, I feel free to be myself instead of Heda. Perhaps living with your doubts is similarly exhausting for you."

She draws in a deep breath, blinking slowly. "Yeah. Anyway, an escape once in a while sounds nice. I know it's not your favorite thing to do—"

Lexa cuts her off, shaking her head. "Anything that makes you happy is my favorite thing to do, ai hainofi. If I didn't enjoy it as well, I wouldn't offer." She pauses, as if considering her next statement carefully, and a wrinkle of concern forms in her smooth brow, just beneath the gear in the middle of her forehead. "But I don't think you should consider this thing between us as an escape. It could be an opportunity for you to grow, if you're willing."

Clarke still isn't sure she understands, but she nods her head. "Sometimes, it's hard to believe that I have way more sexual experience than you," she says, tucking one of Lexa's braids further back behind her ear. "You sound like you know exactly what you're doing."

Lexa laughs, and the bright sound leaves Clarke's heart a little lighter and her mind a little clearer. The awkward smile on her lover's face makes her feel more like herself again. "I'm glad I come across that way," Lexa snorts, "but I really have no idea. I've never done anything like this before. Even with Costia, it was..." Although her lips don't turn down, her eyes drift to some far away place, and Clarke has to cup her cheek to bring her back.

"Hey. If you think you can help me, I'm ready to go along with it. I trust you."

Lexa tilts her chin, placing a kiss in the center of her palm. It's a small gesture, but one that sends warmth all the way along Clarke's arm and through her very core. It finally settles between her legs, and she feels the wetness from earlier return, leaving her underwear uncomfortably damp in the middle. "And I trust you to tell me if I overstep my bounds. The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

"Okay," Clarke murmurs, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in her belly. "So... what do we do now?"

"First, you will take off your pants," Lexa says. The tenderness has gone from her voice, and it fairly crackles with authority. The mask of Heda is back in place, and Clarke feels her inner walls twitch with anticipation. "Strip and set them aside."

Instead of startling her, the order brings with it a wave of relief. Clarke can't help smiling as she hurries to obey, although her fingers fumble. Having clear directions is a blessing, and as she toes off her boots and shimmies out of her leggings, she can't help shivering with delight. The sadness inside her feels closer to the surface the more skin she exposes, but it is also more bearable.

Once her clothes are on the floor, she turns to Lexa, eagerly awaiting more instructions. On a whim, she clasps her hands in front of her and lowers her head to look up at the Commander through her eyelashes, affecting a sudden bout of shyness. For a moment she's worried that Lexa will laugh at her theatrics, but when her lover's eyes go wide and take on a predatory gleam, Clarke feels the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

"Come here," Lexa orders, beckoning her closer. On legs shaking with nervous excitement, Clarke obeys. As soon as she's within reach, she feels Lexa's hands clasp the curve of her ass in a firm, possessive grip before drawing her forward in between her legs. Clarke's very grateful she chose a low-cut top, because the dip of her generous cleavage is right at Lexa's eye level. The Commander looks somewhat dazed, as though she can't decide which part of Clarke she wants to explore first, and Clarke has to bite her lip to refrain from teasing about how the only thing Lexa loves as much as her breasts is her ass.

"Here are the rules," Lexa says in that same commanding tone. "You will do as I tell you, exactly as I tell you, immediately. I will use you as I please, and you will derive pleasure only from obedience. And…" Lexa draws a deep breath, like she's preparing herself for something. "You will address me as Heda." She waits for a moment, as though expecting Clarke to laugh, but Clarke's too busy attempting to conceal the fact that her insides just clenched. Emboldened, Lexa continues. "If you disobey any of these rules, you will be punished. Do you understand?"

Clarke opens her mouth to speak, but finds it utterly dry. When a few quick swallows fail to remedy the issue, she settles for nodding instead.

"Good," Lexa says tersely, and Clarke tries not to let her see just how much the praise has affected her, although she's certain that if Lexa makes her wait much longer, she'll start dripping into her lover's lap.

A moment later, however, Lexa's eyes soften, and she moves one hand up to Clarke's face so that she's gazing into dark green eyes. "I want you to know that you can tell me to stop at any time, and I will. Promise me that if…if I cross a line, or… Promise that you'll tell me to stop."

Clarke doesn't hesitate. She already trusts Lexa with all her heart, but the concern her lover is showing for her fills her with warmth and eases the nervous flutter in her belly. "I promise... Heda. "

Then Lexa is kissing her, and she doesn't have to say anything more. She fights back at first, meeting Lexa's lips with an urgent, hungry clash of teeth and tongues, but then Lexa's fingers coil tighter around the back of her neck, the edges of the Commander's nails digging in slightly as a silent reprimand, and Clarke tempers the reaction. Later, she will have her chance to be as forceful as she wants—as she was in their bedroom the night before. This time, she will allow Lexa to take the lead and see what comes of it.

By the time their mouths part, her chest is heaving, and the same sticky coat of sweat she had worn the previous evening after training has sprouted along her skin. She has no excuse this morning. Lexa does this to her— just Lexa—Lexa's kisses and Lexa's scent and Lexa's nearness. Her flesh is already burning, especially beneath Lexa's palms and where her bare legs are touching the warm leather of Lexa's pants.

"Kneel," Lexa says, her voice and her gaze both steel. "You will earn your pleasure by providing me with mine."

Clarke can guess exactly what her lover has in mind, and she has no objections. Her mouth fairly waters at the thought of freeing the bulge at the front of Lexa's pants, wrapping her fingers around the shaft, and rolling her tongue over the broad tip. Once she shakes off her haze, she drops to her knees, trying not to let her impatience get the best of her. With the way this scene is going, she has a feeling Lexa will only make her wait longer if she appears too eager. She has to straddle the fine line of obedience without appearing impatient, and since Lexa has never taken charge so explicitly before, it's a balance Clarke doesn't have much experience achieving.

"Good," Lexa says, pausing to caress the top of her head and smooth back her hair. It is a gesture that somehow manages to be both demeaning and affectionate, and it makes the slippery heat between Clarke's legs begin to spread along her inner thighs. She has no idea how Lexa manages to portray selfish dominance and loving reassurance in the same moment, without even using words, but she appreciates it. It must come to her naturally, even if she is doing it upon request. "Now, undo my pants."

Clarke sucks in a sharp breath, letting it skate over her trembling lips. It's an order she longs to obey, and she hurries to comply, unfastening the fly of Lexa's pants with fumbling fingers. She has to make herself slow down so she can undo them properly, but when she does, she is rewarded with a beautiful sight—the firm shaft of Lexa's cock, already hard, the blushing red head shining at the tip. I guess she didn't bother with underwear this morning... not that I'm complaining. Less for me to worry about.

Before she even realizes what she's doing, her fingers have wrapped around the thick length and begun to pump it, curious to see how full it is. Judging by the pounding pressure she can feel inside, Lexa is already fairly close. Clarke can't help but feel proud that she has left her lover in such a state even before pleasuring her, and a smug smile spreads from cheek to cheek. Unfortunately, Lexa notices. " Em pleni," she snaps, and Clarke stops her stroking, biting her lower lip and choking down a whimper of disappointment. "Did I tell you to touch me, Klark ?"

The way Lexa says her name sends a shiver of lust straight down her spine. Her clit twitches, and she squirms uncomfortably on her heels. "No..." Lexa's stare burns, and she hurries to correct herself. "No, Heda."

"I only asked you to unfasten my pants, didn't I?"

Clarke nods. "Yes, Heda." The responses are coming easier now, although her face is still flushed with embarrassment. She hadn't realized it was possible to enjoy something so much while still being slightly uncomfortable with it.

Lexa nods—the same kind of imperious nod she gives her councilors and subjects, the barest kind of acknowledgement and nothing more. Somehow it makes Clarke burn even more than if Lexa had been more explicit in her praise. "Do you remember what I said about disobeying my orders?" she asks sternly, and Clarke nods, the urge to please her Commander rising with an almost vertiginous swiftness. She's fought Lexa, loved her, enjoyed giving her pleasure, but an intense desire to obey her as Heda has never been part of how she's felt about her lover. Until now, apparently…

"I am not going to warn you again," Lexa says, in a low, dire tone. "If you disobey me once more, there will be consequences." Clarke strongly considers making a smart remark about what those consequences might be, but decides against it. She's more interested in what obeying Lexa's orders will get her - for now. So when Lexa says, "Are you going to behave?" Clarke agrees eagerly.

Lexa nods again, a little more approvingly. "Good. But I'm going to need more than just that." She pretends to ponder, and Clarke attempts to prevent her eyes from sinking below her lover's chin, to where her breasts move beneath her shirt, slightly quicker than the calm she's affecting, to where her cock still juts proudly from between her legs, hard and dripping. Shit. Too late. She snaps her eyes back up, hoping that Lexa hasn't noticed, but of course she has—there's a glint of humor in her hardened gaze. Luckily, however, her lover also seems more interested in moving things along than mocking her for her gafen.

"You can't be trusted with your hands, and you haven't earned the use of your mouth," Lexa says, "but I still want to come."

"How would you like me to make you do that, Heda?" Clarke says, confused but excited to learn where her lover is taking her.

Lexa's gaze drops lower, below her chin, along her neck, and comes to rest on her cleavage. Clarke's too busy feeling the touch of her eyes like a flame passing just over her skin to realize her intent right away, but when she does she feels herself flush even hotter. That makes Lexa's eyes positively gleam. She licks her lips before saying, "Take off your shirt."

Clarke does it so quickly that when she looks up from tossing it on the ground, Lexa's eyes have widened slightly. When she reaches back for the clasp to her bra, her eyes narrow dangerously, and Clarke freezes: she has to tread carefully. Lowering her voice and looking up through her eyelashes coquettishly, she says, "Should I remove this too, Heda?" Lexa licks her lips again, and then gives her a slow nod.

The garment falls away, and so does Lexa's veneer of disdain and disinterest. It's replaced by desire that turns the color of her eyes to the deep green of a pine forest. Clarke is torn between grinning and blushing at her lover's clear appreciation of her body, but she can feel herself growing even wetter than before.

Lexa's hand descends on her cock and she gives it a few long, slow strokes, rubbing her thumb over the head and spreading the wetness that's already spilling from it along the shaft. Clarke's mouth waters as she watches, entranced; Lexa's clearly putting on a show for her, and the only thing that's stopping her from joining in with her mouth is the fact that she's curious. They've never tried what Lexa has in mind for her before, and she's eager to experience her lover's pleasure this way.

The Commander's hand stills, and Clarke waits for further instructions, but there's an uncertain glint in Lexa's eyes. She opens her mouth a couple of times, but nothing comes out, and she presses it shut again into a harder line each time. At last, Clarke takes pity on her, and pushes her chest up and out, offering her breasts for Lexa's inspection. Lexa gives her a shaky smile of relief and scoots forward a bit on her throne, and all of a sudden the shaft of her cock is resting gently against her cleavage.

Clarke has to bite her lip to keep from moaning. In the interest of preventing herself from leaning forward and licking the swollen, dripping head of the cock before her, she looks up into Lexa's eyes. That proves to be a mistake. The Commander's mouth hangs open just a bit, and she appears almost dazed. Ordinarily Clarke might tease her for it, but right now she wants to keep seeing that look—and more. She wants to see Lexa's entire body tense and arch, wants to hear her shout her release to the ceiling, wants to feel it as it unfurls from her cock and splashes against her breasts, her mouth…

Fuck. I need to actually start this, or I'm going to come just thinking about it. It's a bit of an exaggeration, but Clarke can tell that Lexa's in no state to do it. But how is she supposed to do that without breaking any of the rules? Inspiration strikes a moment later, and she murmurs quietly, "Would you like me to begin, Heda?"

Lexa's body gives a jolt, but she manages to recover herself quickly enough to give her a slow, regal nod. Clarke shuffles forward just a bit on her knees, and then lets her breasts fall apart enough for Lexa's cock to settle comfortably between them. Then she brings them together until they engulf her lover in their soft, pillowy warmth.

She and Lexa let out simultaneous moans. The Commander's shaft is rock-hard, dripping and twitching gently in her embrace, the tip of its swollen head peeking from between the tops of her breasts. Entranced, Clarke lowers herself just a bit on her knees, until it's nearly close enough to taste; a moment later, she raises herself until it disappears. Lexa groans, and her hips jerk, making her cock glide up through the valley, and Clarke gives a gasp of delight.

They begin a sort of push and pull, Clarke letting herself fall while Lexa thrusts up shallowly. Clarke feels ridiculous and is sure she must look worse, but Lexa appears fascinated by the sight of her cock rubbing up and down between Clarke's tits. Every time the hard, swollen head emerges from her cleavage, it's glistening with a fresh pearl of wetness. Clarke's mouth waters to dip her head and steal a taste, but she remembers Lexa's warning: "You will do as I tell you, exactly as I tell you, immediately…"

She tries to prevent the idea from taking root, but it's too late: it's already blooming terribly in her mind and making her squirm uncomfortably on her heels, trying to relieve some of the pressure between her thighs. What would happen if I lowered my head and swirled my tongue through the divot for a taste? What would Lexa do to me? She stifles a low groan, trying to stop herself but knowing she's already lost. She has to find out.

The moment her tongue touches the slippery furrow in the middle of the swollen tip, Lexa goes stiff above her. Desperate hands fist her hair, plunging through the locks and gripping the back of her head tightly, but Clarke ignores the uncomfortable tug. The satisfaction she receives when Lexa lets out a long, loud groan more than outweighs the slight pain. More wetness spills into her mouth in soft pulses, salty and sweet all at once, and she swirls her tongue to gather as much of the precious fluid as possible.

She isn't surprised when Lexa's shaft gives a sharp throb and begins to empty, but the strength of the first several spurts takes her by surprise. They splash across her lips, running over her cheeks and chin, and the delicious taste in her mouth grows stronger. But then Lexa pulls her away, deliberately holding her back, and she whimpers in disappointment.

Clarke squirms on her heels, running her tongue over her lips to try and draw more of Lexa's taste into her mouth since she can't latch on and suck the twitching head, but it's no use. Lexa's hold on her hair is firm, and she knows her moment of disobedience and testing boundaries is over. She can only watch helplessly as the last of Lexa's release bathes her breasts. Soon, hot, glistening trails are sliding from her collarbone, gathering at the stiff peaks of her nipples before dripping down.

By the time Lexa's climax tapers off, both of them are a sticky mess. Although she is still a little sad that she wasn't able to swallow her lover's orgasm, Clarke has to admit that the sight is spectacular. Her skin is gleaming with Lexa's release, and although she knows she'll probably be punished for it, she can't help feeling proud of the come she's wearing. Lexa's shaft remains nestled in her cleavage, no longer pounding with fullness, but still firm and ready.

She tears her eyes away from her own chest and looks up at Lexa's face. When their gazes meet, she sighs in relief. Lexa's expression is blissful and warm and full of adoration, and she is certain that, regardless of what happens next, she has made the right choice in using her mouth to help her lover find bliss. They share a tender moment together, speaking their love without words, beaming at each other and reaffirming their bond of trust.

And then the stony mask of Heda slides back in place. Lexa's eyes narrow dangerously, and Clarke's breath hitches—not with fear, but with anticipation. On some level, she is certain she will enjoy whatever 'punishment' Lexa has in store for her.

"What did you think you were doing?" Lexa asks in a firm, clipped tone, fixing her with an unwavering stare. It demands submission, and Clarke's heart skips a beat in her chest. "I made it very clear that you were not to use your mouth without my permission. Did I give you that permission?"

"No..." Lexa's eyes flash, and Clarke realizes her mistake. "No, Heda. "

"No, I didn't. You took what you wanted instead of doing as I commanded. For that, you need to be taught a lesson."

A wave of heat washes over Clarke's face, and an answering ache blossoms between her legs. Lexa's orgasm has made her all too aware of her own unsatisfied need, and some selfish part of her can't help but hope that Lexa is about to take care of it as part of the 'lesson'. Still, it could easily go the other way, with Lexa pushing her to the very brink of bliss and refusing to tip her over the edge. But even the thought of that torture has her trembling, chewing on the inside of her cheek to stifle a whine.

When she's mastered herself, Clarke sits back on her heels and folds her hands in her lap, looking up at Lexa with wide eyes. She feels a strange impulse to beg for further orders, but she's not certain she even has permission to speak at this point. All she can do is squirm under the heat of Lexa's hooded gaze and attempt not to show it.

After a long moment, her lover seems to be finished enjoying Clarke's discomfort, and gestures for her to stand. She obeys immediately, even though she's somewhat worried that her shaking legs won't hold her. "Your punishment is designed to prove your willingness to obey me. How you take it will determine its duration and intensity," Lexa says, cocking her head just a bit and looking up at her with eyes that are at once bright and dark. The matter-of-fact tone in which she speaks sends shivers down Clarke's spine to contribute to the heat pooling between her legs. "Do you understand?" Lexa says, her voice and gaze full of portent.

Clarke nods fervently, desperate to see what Lexa has in mind. "Yes, Heda."

"Then let's begin." She gestures to her lap, where her cock still rises hard and proud, and Clarke feels her insides clench with delight at finally being invited to use her mouth—but as she watches, Lexa tucks it back into her pants and fastens them—with some difficulty. A disappointed whine nearly escapes Clarke's mouth before her eyes snap back up to Lexa's; the knowing look her lover gives her suggests that Lexa knows what she's thinking anyway. The idea deepens the flush suffusing her body.

"Lie across my legs, ass in the air," Lexa orders, and suddenly Clarke feels like she's burning up in the heat of the Commander's gaze. The image of her draped across Lexa's lap, utterly exposed, like some prize, some object to be taken and used, is at once strongly humiliating and utterly entrancing in a way that Clarke has never felt before. But Lexa's still waiting for an answer, and the arch of her eyebrow suggests she won't be patient for long.

Swallowing to soothe her suddenly dry mouth, Clarke steps forward on shaking legs and does as she's told. It's intensely awkward at first, but as soon as she's settled herself into position, she's hit by a dizzying wave of desire and humiliation, the two emotions entwining to complement and enhance one another. Momentarily overwhelmed, she shuts her eyes, letting the vulnerability and need thrum through her.

As though she can read Clarke's mind—a truly terrifying idea, Clarke thinks, shuddering— Lexa says, "Now, isn't this interesting." Her hand brushes along the firm swell of Clarke's ass, making her tremble, before suddenly raking her nails across it in the other direction. Clarke's eyes flick open and she cries out, more in surprise than anything, feeling the sharp sting's echoes throb, like afterimages on her skin.

Seconds later, Lexa's hand is rubbing soothingly across the marks as she continues, "From the way you're so beautifully flushed, you find this particular position humiliating." Her hand rubs a bit harder, spreading across both cheeks, and Clarke catches herself trembling again. Of course, Lexa notices.

"But from the way you're shaking against me, and the speed of your breathing, you find it arousing as well. Oh, and how you're dripping all over me," she says casually, having let her fingers trail burning paths down the slope of Clarke's ass to toy ever so gently with her soaked folds. Clarke squeezes her eyes shut as tight as she can to keep herself from moaning and pushing herself back into Lexa's hand in search of more friction, more anything. At this point she'd even accept pain, anything but this cruel teasing. Just when she knows she can't stand it anymore, Lexa's hand withdraws… and then returns again to deliver a sharp, stinging slap to her ass.

This time Clarke can't hold in her gasp, or the moan that it turns into. Her entire body is burning, but nowhere so hot as the place where Lexa's hand came down, which feels like it must be positively glowing. The slight pain throbs for just a moment before it turns into a pulse of pleasure, and she bites her lip to keep from embarrassing herself further.

But the damage, of course, is done. When she speaks, Lexa's voice manages to somehow be smug and censorious at the same time. "Just as I expected. You're enjoying this. Enjoying the prospect of taking your punishment across my knee. Enjoying it so much that you're ruining my pants. Enjoying it so much that, I think, you'd probably beg me for more." She pauses, pretending to consider, and Clarke can't breathe. "What should I call someone like that? Who can't obey a simple command and steals a taste of what doesn't belong to her? Who willingly lies across my lap and derives pleasure from what should be humiliating? What's the word for someone like this?"

Lexa leans over Clarke's back, slinging an arm over her to hold her in place, and Clarke can feel her lover's hot breath on the back of her neck. She whispers in Clarke's ear, "What is the word I'm thinking of, Clarke? I think you know."

Clarke's mind is blank for a moment. All she can focus on is the way the slap had made her feel, and how she can convince Lexa to give her more. But then she realizes what the Commander wants her to say, and her body flushes brighter than ever. Still, she knows Lexa will only draw out her torment longer if she doesn't answer, so she forces out, " Gafa, Heda."

"Mm, that's right," Lexa fairly purrs, and Clarke finds herself shivering even harder. All of a sudden she becomes very aware of something hard and firm pressing against her belly—Lexa's cock, straining against her pants. She swallows another moan. "But I know it's easier for you to say it in my language. I want to hear the word in yours." Clarke opens her mouth, but all that comes out is panting. "Tell me what you are, Clarke," Lexa says, a hint of warning creeping into her tone as the hand that's not wrapped around Clarke's ribcage scratches very gently at the place where it had spanked moments earlier.

"A—a slut, Heda," she forces out. Tears of humiliation and relief squeeze themselves out of the corners of her eyes.

"That's right," Lexa says, and Clarke can hear the smirk in her voice. "And you're going to take your punishment like a good little slut. Aren't you?"

The words come easier now, now that she's surrendered to the idea that this is really happening, that they're really doing this, that she's really letting Lexa do this to her, and that she wants it. Oh god, does she want it. "Yes, Heda."

"Good girl." That's all the warning she gets before Lexa leans back, and then delivers another swift, stinging slap, a bit harder than before, to the other side of her ass. Clarke's entire body goes taut, and she bites her lip even harder to hold back a whimper as the pleasant burn begins to spread. It's like a wash of fire over her skin, spreading out from the center of Lexa's palm, and more dripping trails wind down her thighs and into her lover's lap.

"I am going to deliver your punishment now, slut," Lexa murmurs, in the same sure voice she uses as Heda. The over-articulated last word sends a spark of pleasure straight to Clarke's clit. She moans even though Lexa hasn't hit her again, inner walls clenching with need. "Ten blows. You will count them out, and you will answer any questions I ask you."

Questions? For a moment, the red haze in Clarke's mind recedes. What does she mean? She isn't sure what Lexa is planning, but after a moment of confusion, she decides she doesn't care. She trusts her lover. She will go wherever Lexa leads her. "Yes, Heda, " she says, raising her ass a little higher. Her face burns at the thought of how slick and wet and open she is, but she can't resist. She wants more of Lexa's touch, even if that touch is a slap.

She doesn't have to wait long. As soon as she arches, Lexa's palm cracks across the upturned swell of her backside. It's the hardest hit she's taken so far, and Clarke gasps, flinching and pulling away in surprise. After a moment, it doesn't hurt anymore, and she only feels a rosy glow as she sinks back into position. Her heart thumps fast and hard against her ribs, and more sticky trails spill down her legs as she thinks about the bright red handprint Lexa has probably left behind on her flesh.

Thankfully, Lexa doesn't chastise her for squirming. The Commander's other hand curls around her hip, giving it a comforting squeeze. Clarke knows she is waiting for some sign, a signal that she hasn't been too rough and that it is all right for her to continue. The thoughtful pause gives her courage, and she draws in a deep breath. " Won. "

"Good. Continue." Lexa slaps her again, on the other cheek this time, although the blow is more sound than substance. Clarke heaves a sigh of relief. It seems that her lover is still testing the limits of her pain tolerance, but as long as Lexa's hands are on her, she doesn't mind.

"Tu... "

Apparently, she has answered too quickly and readily, because Lexa's next smack is much harder. It has her crying out despite her best efforts, and her face burns at the sound of her own needy voice echoing through the throne room. The ache between her legs has doubled, and she can't help shifting on Lexa's lap—not to escape the spanking, but to offer herself up for more, and to rub against the swollen bulge beneath her.

Paying attention to it proves to be a mistake. As soon as she starts imagining how it would feel to un-tuck the shaft from Lexa's pants and take it inside, to be filled and stretched, she loses track of what she's doing. Lexa slaps her again, the hardest strike yet, and she yelps in actual pain. It takes her a few moments to process the sensation as pleasure, and when she does, she tries to make up for her mistake. " Thri... fou... "

The fifth blow doesn't come. Instead, Lexa's fingers dip back between her legs, sliding along either side of her swollen clit without actually skimming the head. The pressure is still enough to make her hips jerk, although she fights to hold still. She fears that if she keeps wriggling, Lexa will stop touching her, and that is the last thing she wants.

"Tell me, Clarke," Lexa murmurs, rolling the shaft of her clit in slow circles, "what are you being punished for?"

It takes Clarke several attempts to force her trembling lips to shape words. "I... I'm being punished for..." She can't speak. She can't even think while Lexa is tormenting her this way. It's even more torturous than the spanking, and all that comes out of her open mouth is a broken whine of desire. "...for disobeying you..."

Lexa's fingers stop, and at first, Clarke thinks she has given the wrong answer. But then two of them slip inside her, pushing past her entrance and hooking against her front wall. She screams, going rigid over Lexa's lap and releasing another pulse of wetness. It takes everything she has not to come at the first curl, and only the fear that Lexa will stop if she does keeps her from tipping over the edge. Oh god, I didn't even know I was so close...

"Yes. And?"

Lexa begins thrusting inside her, slowly at first, then with more force. Soon, Clarke is yelping with each one, unable to swallow the noises back. "And... Oh God... fuck... fuck, Lexa..." The slip earns her another sharp smack, this time with Lexa's other hand, and she's so overwhelmed by the dual sensations that she almost forgets to count. " Fai... "

"What else are you being punished for, Klark ?" Lexa asks. There is a slight edge to her voice, and it reminds Clarke of a tense wire on the verge of snapping. "Tell me."

"For..."

Suddenly, she understands what her lover is trying to do. She remembers their earlier conversation, remembers Lexa's promise of help. So she closes her eyes, and gathers her courage, and forces herself to say something that she hopes won't ruin the scene. "For failing to save all my friends."

She waits, expecting Lexa's fingers to stop driving inside her, but instead, they thrust even harder and deeper. A spike of pleasure rockets through her body, and she almost misses Lexa's soft words of praise. "Good. And?"

While her thoughts toss about in a storm of confusion, Lexa's hand comes down again. And again. Once, twice, three times... Don't think. Just count. She ordered you to count. " Sis, sen, eit... "

"And? What else are you being punished for?"

Lexa's voice burrows deep within her, slicing past the scars of guilt, cutting right to the tight, knotted ball of hurt that has festered within her ever since coming to the Ground. "For killing all those people at Mount Weather." It's the first time in months that she's spoken of her actions there. Most of the time, she prefers to forget—at least, except for when the nightmares come, nightmares Lexa has held her through with gentle kisses and whispered reassurances.

"Good." Lexa's palm cracks across her backside again, not hard, just enough to draw her out of her memories and back into the present. Clarke is relieved. She was beginning to hear screams in her head, and Lexa's voice and hands are an anchor. "What else? You are holding something back."

"Nain," she says, partially to avoid answering. She knows what Lexa is waiting for, but part of her is still terrified to say it. I don't want to do this. I don't want to think about this. I don't want to… You almost died… There was so much blood...

Lexa's fingers pull out of her, gliding back to her clit. They tease over it in feather-light strokes, until the muscles of her stomach are trembling and the pressure inside of her is throbbing heavily for release. She has no idea why she is still so aroused despite being forced to dredge up all these horrible memories, but she is too far gone to question it. "Tell me, Klark," Lexa murmurs, in a soft voice that is full of compassion instead of force. "What else are you being punished for?"

"For not protecting you!" She had meant to murmur the words, but they burst out of her in a shout, as if they had been waiting for freedom all along. "It's my fault you got shot... my fault you almost died..." Tears cut rivers down her cheeks, and soon, her face is covered in searing salty lines. "My fault..."

"Your fault I lived," Lexa says, gently but firmly. In her voice is strength to bolster Clarke's weakness, but more than that—to remind her that the love she feels for Lexa, the love that's coursing down her cheeks like rain, isn't weakness at all. "Your fault that you stopped the bleeding and removed the bullet. Your fault that you nursed me through weeks of illness. Your fault that you stopped Ontari's coup, and deposed Pike, and saved your people from further bloodshed. Your fault that our people are now at peace. So tell me again, Klark," she says, voice growing stronger with each word, " what are you being punished for?"

Lexa's hand comes down on her ass one final time, the hardest blow yet, but it's not pain that Clarke feels. It's bliss. At the same time as the flat of Lexa's palm makes contact with her stinging flesh, the fingers of her lover's other hand drive back in, curling to reach the perfect spot inside of her on the very first stroke. When Lexa's thumb falls back into place over her clit, Clarke throws her head back and howls, relief and release tangled into one sensation that sweeps through her body like a thunderstorm, bringing tumult and confusion but leaving clarity in its wake.

She's been so on edge for so long, driven so crazy by Lexa's teasing, that it only takes a couple of strokes before she's coming, her entire body drawn into a taut line by the pleasure that Lexa's giving her. She squeezes down impossibly tight on her lover's fingers as she spills into her lap in endless pulses, sobbing out her joy at finally getting the release her body craves. But it feels like more than just corporal pleasure—her orgasm almost seems like something spiritual as well, like some heaviness in her soul has lifted free.

Lexa's fingers milk her through the final waves of her release, and then Clarke slumps back down into her lap, boneless and utterly spent. Her entire body is thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure, but for the first time in what feels like forever, her mind is utterly empty. She's vaguely conscious of Lexa's hands stroking gently along her back and sides, lifting her damp hair from her sweaty forehead, murmuring soft and comforting things in Trigedasleng, but she can't discern their meaning and it doesn't seem to matter much anyway. Lexa's spoken to her in a different language, one that requires no words to understand. For now she's content to simply rest, to let her body and mind merely breathe and be free.

When Lexa's tone starts to take on an edge of worry, however, Clarke turns over to look into her eyes and offer her a brilliant smile. The relief in Lexa's clear green gaze is obvious, and encourages Clarke to sit up and put her arms around the Commander's neck and draw her in for a deep, tender kiss. She puts all of her gratitude and solace and love into it, doing her best to tell Lexa without words everything she wants to say, but can't: Thank you, I love you, you're wonderful, I feel so much lighter, thank you, I love you, I love you, I love you…

"I love you too," Lexa says, and Clarke abruptly realizes that she's been whispering it against Lexa's lips. She blushes, making to pull away, but Lexa chases her, claiming her lips once more. She can feel a grin forming on the Commander's face and begins to formulate a reprimand for being smug—because she can tell, even without Lexa saying so, that the time for obedience has passed—but as she shifts in her lover's lap to deliver her smart remark, she becomes aware of something hard and thick pressing against her ass.

Grinning herself, she pulls away so she can look Lexa in the eye once more. Much as Clarke would like to thank her lover properly for what Lexa's done for her this morning, she needs to say this—in words this time, to make sure Lexa knows that her control is welcome, that it was exactly what Clarke needed, that it's had the intended effect. "Thank you," she says, with all of the sincerity she can muster. "This was perfect. I don't know how you knew that I needed it when I didn't know myself, but…" She shrugs. "Thank you."

Lexa's smile is brilliant, and so beautiful that she feels tears prick at her eyes for a moment, remembering how she'd thought that she might never see that smile and those eyes light up her lover's face ever again. "You're welcome. I'm just grateful that you seem to be feeling…better." She hesitates on the last word, as though looking for Clarke's reassurance that it's correct, and Clarke beams.

"I'm feeling much better. In fact…" She manages to slide off Lexa's lap and onto the floor. The stone is cold and hard on her knees, but her pants aren't far away, and she knows she'll be able to reach over and bunch them into enough of a cushion to serve her purposes. "I feel amazing, but I know you can't feel quite as good," she purrs, sliding her palms along Lexa's thighs and savoring the Commander's audible gulp. "So let me make you feel better." Cupping the hard bulge that rises from Lexa's crotch, she feels it give a heavy throb, and looks up at the Commander from below her eyelashes. "Please, Heda? I didn't get the chance before... "

Lexa's only response is a strangled groan, and this time Clarke lets the laughter ring out from her mouth, while undoing her lover's pants so she can fill it with something better.

niron: loved one
ai hainofi: my princess
em pleni: enough
gafen: thirst (in a sexual way)
*gafa: slut