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From the very beginning, Gold told her he was an old-fashioned man, not that it was a secret to anyone. Ruthless, fearsome, and old-fashioned, those were the labels the people of Storybrooke has awarded him with, and Gold could live with that. He'd been raised with a strict set of rules and he never came to resent it. There was a proper way for a gentleman to dress, talk, and behave.

Lacey had laughed at first, but she never really minded it. She'd been craving for limits and, more importantly, someone to impose them on her for years. Not because she needed rules the same way Gold did. Rules made him feel safe; to Lacey, they were only good for breaking and getting into trouble. And while Gold found her to be exasperating at times, he had to agree that the whole arrangement was working exceptionally well for the both of them.

That evening, when he told her to undress, she allowed her short skirt and see-through blouse to fall on the floor without batting an eye. Nudity came naturally to her. It'd thrown him off at first, clashing with everything he'd been taught about modesty. Now, he simply raised an eyebrow at her, keeping his face straight. If she saw the slightest trace of embarrassment or arousal, she'd use that to her advantage.

“Have you been walking around all day without your panties?” he asked.

Lacey smirked at him. More than once he considered if he shouldn't make smirking against the rules of the house, but decided against it. Lacey was already hard to manage as it was.

“Only on my way here,” she said, in that sweet-girl voice that sounded like a mockery, since she was neither.

“Is this how you dress to a meeting?” he asked. The subject of her clothing has been brought up on more than one occasion. Lacey insisted that she be in charge of it, a reflex of having spent most of her life answering the question, “Are you going out like that?” or having to sneak out because her father didn't approve of the length of her dress. But she had agreed to always be dressed fully, unless told otherwise. “Why is it that you ask me for rules if you only seem to take pleasure in breaking them?”

“Because I take great pleasure in breaking them,” she answered, as if it were obvious.

“Of course you do. Pick that up, my dear. This isn't your apartment.”

As expected, she changed positions to give him a full view of her ass as she bent over to pick up her clothes, but Gold started pacing the room, pretending he wasn't interested. After she'd folded the skirt and her shirt carefully, the way he'd taught her too, he added, “And the heels, too.”

Lacey threw him a look, bothered.

“Well?” he pressed.

Despite being naked in front of him, she hardly ever took her shoes off.

“There,” she said, placing the shoes together carefully by the bed, where her clothes lied.

“Now go to the bathroom and stand in front of the sink.”

The sound of her footsteps on the floor was mute, lacking both the clacking of her heels and the grace of her steps. Gold didn't mind it, but he could tell Lacey didn't appreciate it. She always felt more powerful on top of stilettos. But this was part of her punishment. She didn't have to like it, she had to obey it.

Despite her short stature, Lacey tried to stand as proudly as she could. He could see a little arrogance in her eyes and in the way she tilted her head at him, silently asking him to give her the best he got. Even though she should know better by now, she still acted as if he'd back down from their game one day, finding her needs or her attitude to be too much.

She leaned back on the sink and gave him a “what now?” look.

“Face the mirror.”

She turned around. Gold didn't wait for the full circle to be complete before reaching for her left nipple, trapping it between his middle and index fingers and pulling at it slightly. Lacey had delicate, small breasts. Putting them under duress usually got good results, even though she was now sighing with pleasure. He stroked the tip with his thumb, thinking out loud, “What am I to do with you, Lacey?”

“Anything you want,” she said, purring the words.

Anything. That word alone was enough to make him dizzy. He pinched her nipple before he had the chance to get too distracted. It got a little “Ow!” out of her – and a cute little pout to go with it.

“If that was true, you'd just have asked me to,” he said. “Instead, you just decided to break the rules, again.”

“It's a stupid rule,” she muttered, massaging her left breast.

“You agreed to it, my dear. You knew what the consequences were.”

Lacey didn't say anything, but made sure to give him an angry look.

He turned around to open a drawer and threw an order over his shoulder, “Play with your breasts, Lacey.”

Her eyes softened immediately at that and she slid her hands up her torso, slowly, then cupped her breasts with both hands, looking at him in the mirror.

“There's no need to put on a show, my dear. Just do what feels good to you.”

All subtlety thrown out the window, she pinched her nipples slightly and rolled them between two fingers, kneading her breasts with her hands. Despite the beautiful sight, Gold looked away and into the drawer, trying to concentrate. It'd be too easy to just bend her over the sink and take her. And she was probably counting on it; she found it amusing to make him lose all his composure. The drawer had everything he was looking for, but he still spent a few seconds looking for it, getting his thoughts together, as well as allowing her time to get used to the pleasurable sensation of her own hands.

He came back with a bar of soap in his hands, still wrapped and very plain-looking. Once, he'd spoiled her by buying expensive soap, but she'd tried that rule so many times already he realized it was a waste of money.

“There are places where you can say that word, Lacey,” he said, unwrapping the bar of soap.

“You mean fuck.”

His hands stopped moving and he heard her giggle again, amused by the fact that throwing him off was so easy. God, he hated that word so much it was tempting to tell her to stop playing with herself. She'd lost all masturbation privileges for a week.

“Yes,” he finally said, moving on. “I mean that word. Do you remember what those places are?”

“The pub,” she recited, voice light, almost ethereal, clearly concentrating more on the feeling of her own hands than on him. “My own apartment.”

“And do you remember where you cannot use that word?”

“Inside your house, and anywhere else, especially, not in front of you.”

“Yes, and we both know you do use it at your heart's content when we're at your place.”

Lacey hummed and closed her eyes at the memory, squeezing her breasts harder. “Hmm, yes. You always get so angry.”

“Yet, you still insist on using it in my house.”

She smiled, languidly. “I am so very sorry Mr. Gold.”

“You are not. But I've given up trying to make you feel sorry.”

He opened the faucet and held the bar of soap underneath it, making it foam. Lacey stared at it, a trace of apprehension crossing her eyes for the first time.

He held the bar in front of her face and commanded, “Tongue out.”

She stuck out her tongue, but only the tip.

Gold smirked at her. She always tried to get away with it. It was quite endearing.

“No. All of it.”

Lacey pulled her tongue back into her mouth for just a second, then stuck it out fully, keeping her mouth wide open.

Gold slid the soap down once, leaving a white stripe against the pink of her skin. She winced, but made no sound, and only spat it out when he allowed her, “You can spit now.” The sound of it was crude, but they hadn't had time to work on that yet.

“One more time.”

Lacey stuck out her tongue again. This time, he slid the bar of soap down to the tip and all the way up to her lips, getting a little whine from her.

“Don't move, Lacey,” he said, going up and down her tongue five times. “And don't stop touching your breasts. There you go, spit.”

“I always forget how terrible this tastes,” she said, gasping.

“Yes, we'll make sure the memory sticks this time.”

Gold held up the bar one more time.

Lacey whined again, but obeyed.

“Circle your nipples as I do it, just the way you like it. Follow my rhythm.”

He moved slowly, trying to keep his eyes on her breasts and face at the same time. Her body was tense, but she didn't complain. He couldn't help but admire her tenacity. When they'd first tried this form of punishment, she'd barely made it through the first stroke without crying out, “Fuck this is shitty!”, spitting the foam onto the sink, and requesting a spanking instead. But Lacey was nothing if not stubborn.

Gold washed her tongue in a slow pace, watching her entire face frown at the taste as she concentrated in rubbing herself at the same time.

“Slow down, my dear. You don't want us to have to start over. Feel how I'm taking my time.” To give her an example, he slowed down even more on her tongue, eliciting a whimper from her. She followed suit. “There, doesn't that feel much better? Eight. Nine. Ten. Good girl. You can spit.”

He barely had time to get out of the way before she bent over the sink, smacking her hands on the marble and spitting the contents of her mouth. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and planted a kiss on her head.

“Try to be more delicate next time,” he said, more of a suggestion than anything.

Lacey responded by grabbing the front of his pants and giving him another smirk when she felt his erection.

“You don't like me delicate,” she said, squeezing him.

He pulled back, saying, “Not yet.”

“You're a fucking tease, Gol-”

Her words were cut out when he shoved the bar of soap between her teeth. She said something muffled and indignant that he chose to ignore.

“I told you we were going to make the lesson stick this time. Ah ah!” he warned her, when he saw the bar of soap escaping her lips. “This better not slip out, Lacey, or I'll shove it inside your mouth and tape it shut.”

She growled at him, but then went quiet. She didn't even make a sound when he stood behind her and began stroking her pussy.

“Were you already wet on your way here, or do you just enjoy being punished?” he said, inside her ear.

Usually, Lacey would nod in response, being purposefully vague. Tonight, she didn't bother.

“Is this the silent treatment? I wonder how long that's going to last,” he said, pulling away and going back to the drawer. He came back with two clothespins and handed them to her. “On your nipples. You had enough fun for a day.”

Lacey didn't emit a single sound as they bit down on her skin, but when he flicked them she let out a little protest and glared at him.

“It's supposed to hurt, Lacey,” he told her. “You're all wet from your punishment and that's not supposed to happen.”

She threw him a look. This is exactly what is supposed to happen and this always happens.

Yes, she was right, but that didn't mean he was about to admit it. Instead, he stood behind her again and went back to stroking her pussy, his touch light and random, just spreading her wetness on her smooth skin. On the mirror, Lacey was doing her best to keep up the angry pout, but he knew exactly how to play with her body. Also, that bar of soap was melting into foam inside her mouth. It was hard to lie when all she wanted was for him to keep distracting her from the horrible taste.

She began purring again when he inserted two fingers inside of her and used his thumb to press on her clit. His free hand flicked at the left clothespin once again, but that only made her moan something unintelligible, instantly forgetting the pain or the foam sliding down her chin.

“What am I going to do with you?” he mused, when she leaned back on his shoulder, panting.

As a reply, Lacey arched her back and pushed into his hand, impaling herself on his fingers. Her left hand held on to the fabric of his shirt, and her right one grabbed his erection again. Her suggestion was clear: he should just take her and be done with it. And while the idea had merit, he still shook his head, saying, “No, not yet.”

Then she saw him take the toothpaste out of his pocket and her entire body froze. Gold smiled to himself and she must have seen it on the mirror, because it made her shiver. While pleasuring her was a privilege, he did enjoy those moments of anticipation when she knew he was about to push her limits and there was nothing she could do to stop him. She wouldn't even be able to stop her own body from liking it.

“Why so surprised, my dear?” he taunted, applying just a little bit of toothpaste on his thumb, but holding it far from her skin. “You know what happens when you don't dress accordingly.”

She shook her head from side to side and tried to bring her knees together, but his fingers were already buried deep inside of her. She could have slapped his hands away, and maybe she was considering it, because she had let go of his cock, but right now pleading was as far as she wanted to go.

“You don't want it, Lacey?”

She shook her head again, her mouth foaming and her eyes beginning to water.

“Then you shouldn't have broken the rules to begin with,” he told her, merciless, and rubbed the toothpaste on her clit.

Lacey arched her back and squirmed inside his grip as he found a slow rhythm to spread the paste on her skin.

“Imagine that, in such short skirts you'll be flashing your privates to the entire town. You know it belongs to me.”

Gold pushed his fingers deeper. Lacey wailed by his ear and finally tried to push his arm away, but he held it back with his free hand.

“Does it burn already, my dear?”

She nodded frantically.

“That's good. Maybe today you'll learn your lesson, won't you?”

She nodded again. He rubbed her harder, but slowly, spreading it all around her clit, over and over, until she began to sob.

“You won't be using those words in front of me again, right?”

Lacey whimpered and, despite nodding, produced a sound that could very well have been the word fuck, were it not for the bar of soap in her mouth.

“And you won't be leaving your panties home, isn't that right? You'll dress properly.”

Her eyes were watering and she didn't even bother nodding anymore, but Gold still took that as compliance and said, “Very well, lets see if the lesson sticks this time.”

He pulled his hand away and turned the faucet on. Her body was still trembling, but as soon as the cold water touched her skin, she quieted down, panting deep breaths on his shoulder and allowing him to wash her clean.

“There, does that feel better?”

She nodded, her body slack against his. Then, she muttered something and pointed at the bar of soap.

“Can you keep it a little longer?”

Lacey considered, then offered him a shrug. You can choose.

“Just a little longer, then. And the pins, too. We're not done. Now bend over the sink, Lacey. And no playing with yourself.”

She promptly obeyed, positioning herself with her legs far apart and her hands firmly planted on the marble. She even arched her back, making her ass all the more tempting as he unzipped his fly. If it was up to him, he'd take her back to bed and love her properly, but why ruin such a perfect scenario?

Gold lowered his pants just enough to get himself out and plunged into her.

“Don't move,” he said, when she started to rock her hips. Though it was difficult to resist the urge to just push into her and lose himself in her tight pussy, he took a deep breath and slid his hands down her arms, until he found hers to hold on to.

When he finally started moving, it was as if her entire body was set in motion. She moved her hips with his and growled at his reflection in the mirror, a low, wild sound of approval as she lost herself in pleasure.

She sped up her rhythm as her climax approached, and he could have ordered her to slow down, instead of selfishly using him for her pleasure. This was still a punishment, after all. But then his eyes closed and his entire body was washed by a powerful orgasm, and all thoughts of propriety and punishment and Lacey French with her pretty, filthy mouth were forgotten. This felt good. She felt good. She always did. If it was his choice, he'd never let her go.

When his eyes cleared, he saw her on the mirror, surprisingly still holding on to the bar of soap. He pulled the pins first, and gently massaged her nipples. Lacey didn't make a sound and waited for him to finally pull the soap free from the fierce grip of her teeth, their mark indented on the once smooth surface. Gold couldn't help but think it looked much better this way.

Lacey bent closer to the sink and spat quietly into it.

Gold smiled at her.

“Such a good girl,” he said, proudly. “You remembered what I said.”

Lacey returned the smile, but seemed too tired to say anything else.

He helped her wash her mouth in the sink. Once she was done, he tightened the grip of his arms around her, not wanting to let her go. She didn't fight it.

“You know,” he said, smoothing her hair, “if you ever want to do this again, you could just ask. There's no reason to keep breaking the rules.”

“Oh, Gold,” Lacey said, offering him her trademark smirk in the mirror. “What would be the fun in that?”