"You just have to fucking have it, don't you," Phil says, undoing his tie and laying it over the arm of the chair. His voice is mild, like he's talking to an annoying subordinate but no worse. "You can't go without it, can you?" He's not looking at her, taking off his jacket and hanging it off the chair, but he turns, fixing her with a stare. "I asked you a question."
"No, sir," she says, swallowing.
"Hands behind your back," he says, picking up the rope, and Pepper does it obediently. It's not about fighting back, about trying to argue, because there's no question, no point in it. He's the one in command, and the only thing it even makes sense to do is let him have exactly what he wants from her.
This whole thing, it gives her something, unlocks something inside, turns her on like crazy; but Tony won't give it to her, he can't, and after the first time Pepper won't even let him try. So when she needs it the most, she borrows Phil, and everybody's happy. Well, for certain values of the word 'happy'. Happiness is not really the point here. 'Satisfied' is maybe more apt.
She holds her wrists out, and he steps behind her, binding her quickly but carefully. For just a moment he holds her to him, clothes sliding over her naked skin, and presses a kiss to the back of her neck, a reassurance; it's the only one she's going to get for a long while.
He pushes her away, and she turns, trying to keep him in her sights. He doesn't say anything for what seems like an excruciating amount of time, just circles her like a predator; she tries to keep up, keep her eyes on him. She dares to take a step forward, and he pushes her back by her shoulders, not enough to make her fall but enough to make her feel like she might.
"Are you trying to get away from me, slut?" Phil snaps.
"No, sir," she says, relieved in some strange way that he's talking now, not just staring at her like he's going to pounce at any second.
"You are, of course, free to leave at any time," he says with mock civility, gesturing to the door. "You're perfectly welcome to walk right out there and find somebody to untie you. I'm sure you'd like that plenty, so everybody could see you like this."
He takes a step towards her, and she has to will herself not to move. "I'm sure you think about it plenty," he says, no question in his voice. "Which one of them is it going to be first, Pepper?" He takes a breast into his hand, pinching her nipple just hard enough to make her hiss. "There's a whole tower full of people out there. Which one of them gets to fuck you first? You know Tony will let you. You know Tony will love it."
He pinches her nipple again, twisting this time, and Pepper yelps, unable to resist the counterproductive urge to pull away from him. "Maybe Natasha," he muses, seemingly unfazed by the way she's yelping and squirming. "Are you the kind of slut who likes to deny it? Do you like to pretend that you won't fuck anything on two legs, tits or not? I can just see you with your pretty little face in her cunt."
He pushes her away again, looking at her speculatively, like his interest in her is purely academic, like she doesn't even rate the privilege of turning him on. The way his erection is distending the fabric of his trousers says otherwise, but it's working for her anyway, it really is.
"You strike me as a cockwhore, though," Phil says, as certain as if he'd just said she was a redhead, and that word hits Pepper somewhere low and deep. "Nothing else measures up, does it? You'd spend your whole life with a dick inside of you if you could, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, sir," she says, before she thinks better of it.
Phil laughs at her. "Rhetorical question, slut, but I do appreciate your honesty." She feels her face go hot, even hotter than it already is. "I'm starting to think it doesn't matter to you," he says. "I think you couldn't care less whose cock you get, as long as you get plenty. I think if somebody let you, you'd get more than you could handle. Is that what you want?" She looks down, but his hand shoots out, grabbing her throat, forcing her to look at him. "Don't look away from me, bitch. Keep your eyes right here."
It's hard, even with him holding her, especially when he pushes his fingers into her without warning. He gives her a disapproving look that makes her want to hide. "You're getting off on this," he says, fingers sliding easily through her wetness, like it's something he didn't already know. "Filthy fucking slut. You wish you could let everybody know. You wish you could just be open for business all the time, take anybody at all who wanted to fuck you."
She whines as he pulls his fingers out suddenly. "I'm tired of fucking around," he says, taking his hand off her throat and pushing her away. He snaps, pointing at the floor. "Knees, whore." She's pretty sure he doesn't know how hard it is with no arms to balance with, but she's even more sure he doesn't care, wants to see her awkwardly lower herself, embarrass herself just because it's what he wants.
She manages to get down, settling on her knees, and Phil steps in close. "Look up at me," he says, and she does it; he looks so tall from this angle, impossibly bigger than she is. He puts two fingers to her lips. "Open," he orders, and almost before she's done it he pushes them into her mouth. They taste like her, and she doesn't resist the urge to lick them, suck them in farther.
"Ask me for what you want," he orders, taking his fingers out.
Honestly, Pepper has no idea. She wants more, she wants it to stop, she wants him to use her like the filthy thing that he says that she is. "I want your cock, sir," she says, because that pretty much covers everything.
"Ask me," Phil says. "Say, 'Can I suck you off, sir?' Show me how nicely you can say it."
"Please," she says; she can feel tears coming up, threatening to spill out.
"That's not what I said," Phil tells her, shaking his head. "Not even close. Would you like to try it again? Because I can go. I might even be nice enough to shut the door behind me."
"Can I-" Pepper says, stalling out.
"Can you what?" Phil coaxes, condescension dripping from his voice.
"Can I suck you off?" she asks, and now she's crying, that thing in her come unstuck, just the way she was looking for.
"And what's the magic word?" Phil says.
"Sir," she manages to say somehow.
"Very good," he praises, petting her hair, but then he pushes her sharply away. "Too bad that's not what I want. Get on your stomach and spread your legs."
She does her best not to fall on her face, but she doesn't have a whole lot of a choice. There's nothing she can do, nothing but spread out for him, try and get ready. That part's not a stretch; she feels like she's been ready for ages, needing him however she can get him.
She can hear as he kneels behind her, not stopping to undress. "I'm going to fuck you right here on the floor, just like you deserve," he says, pushing two fingers inside of her quick enough that it makes her gasp. "You're going to come for me, right when I say and not a second before. And when I let you come, I'm going to make you scream my name. I'm going to hear you fucking sob it."
The rasp of his zipper is the only warning she gets before he pushes inside of her; she puts her forehead against the floor and moans in satisfaction. "Do you like that, you dirty whore?" he says, thrusting into her hard. "I know it's not enough for you if you're not taking it from both ends, but nobody ever said this was about you." In her head she can see it, someone else here with them, someone else to wreck her, and the thought is terrifying, shivery-good. "You're just a hole for me to fuck, and when I'm good and done with you, I'm just going to pass you off to the next person who wants to use you."
He stops, slapping her hard on the ass, and she groans. "Push back on me," he says. Pepper's not entirely sure she can, lack of composure and lack of leverage making it damn near impossible. "I don't have all day, slut, so if you want this, then take it."
It's hard to manage, but she does it somehow, moving her hips to take him in, try to get him as deep as she can. She's desperate for him to give her a break, just fuck her how she wants it; unfortunately, this is, at least superficially, not about what she wants at all. Her face is on fire and her tears are slicking the floor beneath her, and if she doesn't come soon she's going to explode, just burst into flames and sizzle away to nothing.
He reaches around, playing with her clit as he moves inside of her again, and she lets out a choked, sobbing gasp. "You proved your point, cockwhore," he says, his hips snapping forward, forceful enough that her body shakes with it. "You just can't help yourself. You love that dick too much, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," she says, weak and muffled. He fucks her harder and faster, just as desperate as she is. "Please, sir."
"Please what, bitch?" he says, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking hard enough that her eyes water.
"Please let me come, sir," she begs. "Please, please-"
"You don't deserve it," he says, smacking her again. "You should be glad I'm even fucking you. But since you asked so nicely, maybe I'll let you when I'm done." He pulls on her hair again, making her back arch. "Maybe."
He's getting close, though, his voice tight and choked-off as he tries to keep it together. He pushes her away very suddenly, making her cry out as she falls. "On your back," he snaps, and she obeys, though not quite fast enough not to earn her a stinging slap to the inner thigh. He kneels between her legs, working his cock quickly, and she knows what's coming. "Beg me for it," he says, through gritted teeth.
"Please, sir," she says, "Phil, come on me, mark me, please-"
She's still speaking when it starts, white streaking her stomach, all the way up over her breasts, pulse after pulse. He groans loudly, milking his cock for every last drop; she feels so wrecked, really degraded now, stuck like this with come all over her, all because she's let him, let him debase her like this. She's maddeningly close to coming, feeling like it would barely take a finger to set her off, but for the longest fucking moment he does nothing but sit there, staring down at her with a look of dark satisfaction in his eyes.
Finally he pushes his fingers back inside of her, and she bites her lip, whimpering. "Phil," she whines. "Phil, please, please let me, god I'm so close, please."
"Not yet," he says, bending down and putting his mouth on her, tongue flicking over her clit. He knows exactly what he's doing when he does this, how to make her come in minutes, and this is absolutely no exception.
"Please, Phil," she gasps, her hips bucking up. "Phil, Phil, god, Phil-"
She screams as it hits her, just the perfect syllable of his name, her whole body arching up towards his devastating mouth. Her head knocks against the floor, but she doesn't even notice, not when grinding her clit against his tongue is so much more important. She comes and comes and comes, noisy and unashamed, until she finally has to nudge him away, completely wrung out.
After a long moment, no sound but heavy breathing, he helps her sit up. There's a bottle of water and a blanket next to the wall, and he stretches over and grabs them, hitting the button on the wall above. He sets the bottle down beside her before he sits down behind her, untying her wrists and checking her hands carefully before letting her go. He puts the blanket around her shoulders, wrapping her up before maneuvering her so that she can curl up against him. She picks up the water, gulping it down; when she puts it aside, he catches her chin, wiping the tears off her face with a corner of the blanket.
She smiles, settling back against him, letting him take her weight. "That was good," he says, running a hand over her hair. He never says stupid things like "I'm sorry" and "I didn't mean it." Of course he didn't mean it, but of course he's not sorry, either; why the hell should he be sorry for giving her exactly what they both want?
"Mmm, yeah," she replies, resting her head against his chest.
"You know," Phil says. "You did come before I told you to. That's grounds for a punishment."
"Oh no," Pepper murmurs. "What will I ever do?"
"What I say, if you know what's good for you," he says, squeezing her, and she laughs.
The door opens, and Tony steps in, looking less worried than he used to, but still a little concerned. "Did everything go okay?"
Pepper gives him a thumbs up. "C'mon, get over here."
He joins them, cuddling in close to her, touching her everywhere for reassurance; he kisses her softly, running his fingers through her hair. He's getting better with this, not asking a thousand questions about whether or not she's okay and whether Phil hurt her, whether- not that he doesn't trust Phil- he needs to break Phil's legs.
She shuts her eyes, letting them hold on to her, hold her up. She couldn't ask for better people to do it.