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"My viridian darling, has it occurred to you that these bonds would do nothing to prevent me from escaping?"
"Your bonds are for decoration, Hank.” Abigail says with a sharp and impressive confidence, and Hank looks up at her with a fond expression as she ties his wrists to the headboard. “It’s me that will prevent you from escaping.”
"Oh? And how will you do that, my charming, poisonous flower?"
"I hate your nicknames." She lies as she moves a little lower, tying his ankles to each post at the foot of the bed.
"I love your eyes." Hank says softly. "And your hair, your mouth, your wit…"
"My breasts." She suggests, and he chuckles.
”Why, yes, I am quite fond of those.” He says, and somehow in his spread-eagled position he feels completely safe, likely because it is Abigail Brand doing the spread-eagling of him. “I’m fond of your other parts as well, of course.”
"Like my arms, you mean?"
"Why, my sweet serpent, I did mean those.” She laughs at him, the sound low, and then she leans down, pressing her lips to his jaw and then blowing air over the fur there.
"You didn’t mean anything else, then?" Abigail asks, and Hank hums.
"Oh, I might have included a few other things." Hank says, and his gaze moves lower, eyeing her crotch without subtlety. She grins at him, all teeth, and he pulls just a little at his bonds, but he doesn’t break them. "Are we ready to play, Abby?"
"Oh, Hank," She says, and she reaches between his legs, drawing a choked sound out of him. "I do believe we are."
blue_magpie Sat 20 Sep 2014 02:41PM UTC
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orphan_account Sat 20 Sep 2014 03:49PM UTC
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