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A Shot of Adrenaline

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It was beautiful. And not only that, but made of extremely fine quality.

When Emma had first shown it to her, she had been speechless. Here she was, about to accept such a gift from a sex worker. But how could she say no? It was something she had always craved to have but was too afraid to ever go out on her own and get.

It was like Emma had read her mind. Had known her deep desire, one she could not voice even to her. So she took the gift and now here she was, standing in front of the mirror, stroking it as it strained against her neck.

Robin wasn't home and he would not be for quite some time, off playing checkers with some old friends. How droll. She laughed at his hobbies; he had all the taste of an eighty year old man. Though who was she to speak, when hers were dirty and dark.

His absence would give her lots of time to be alone with her new gift...and to work some things out about it. Because by god, she felt so worked up over it. Ever since Emma had given it to her, it had laid hidden and buried under her lingerie and each night, right before sleep, as Robin crawled into bed with her, she could not help but look over at it, fantasizing on how it would feel to finally slip it on. She would fall asleep facing the direction of it, even as Robin spooned her, his beard prickling her with it's stubble. And she drifted off, arousal churning through her, unable to do anything about it with him here. Her dreams would then be filled with images of herself collared and under Emma's heel, being forced to do something against her will.

She would wake up aching for a release but not daring to try for one, because if Robin saw her, he would offer to take care of it for her and she did not want his touches even if they could help her. She and him hadn't exactly had much of a sex life lately not that she was complaining. Any pent up tension was pulled free with Emma's expert touches and she had no need for subpar help. And Robin didn't complain about this lack either, so if it bothered him he didn't say anything. He was an entirely patient and doting man and it bothered her sometimes that he could be so good to her when she didn't deserve an ounce of his kindness.

But it was hard to feel remorse when she felt alive for the first time ever during those sessions in all her years of bureaucratic monotony. At first it had been hard giving in to her dark desires but it was freeing in an oddly constricting way. In that she liked being controlled. Liked finally not having to be responsible for anything else, or for anyone else for the first time in such a long time.

And the collar was the biggest symbol of that. Of her being owned by someone else. It was freedom and it was so arousing. Which was why when Robin made the announcement that he was playing checkers with some work buddies on Sunday night, she pounced on the free evening it offered her. Finally, she would be alone with the collar.

She knew Emma wanted to see her wear it; to see her try it on. But frankly, Regina couldn't wait that long. Already she had ruined several pairs of underwear ever since she'd gotten the collar.

So when he left, she didn't waste a second more. She practically bolted up the stairs, watched out the window to make sure his car was pulling away and then she shut the blinds, before slipping out of her restricting pant suit and into something more comfortable. Like a teddy with see through lace.

With shaking hands she took the box with the collar out and opened the lid. There it lay, in it's glorious beauty, smelling of new leather. She took the collar and slipped it around her neck, it clicking into place with a solid sound. It was tight and it looked perfect on her. Her eyes slipped closed at the sensation of cool leather on her while her breath hitched.


She didn't have to look at her reflection in the mirror to know her nipples were hard. Just like she didn't have to check her panties to know they were wet. Fingers trailing over her neck, over the collar, down to her collarbone, they made way to her breasts where they squeezed down hard, eliciting a groan from her lips.

This was what she had been waiting for, for a long time.

She made way to her bed, not even bothering with her covers. As soon as she laid down she let her hands drift up and down her body in teasing touches, just the way she liked it. She was already so wet that when she parted her thighs it was with a squelch. But her hands did not go there, just yet.

They skimmed over a quivering stomach, teased pert nipples, and even pulled down at her lower lip as she fell into a vivid fantasy. One where Emma was scowling down at her, heavenly blonde locks framing her face.

“You disgust me,” she said. “Collaring yourself? What a thing only animals do. But that's what you are. Just my pet,” and Emma would grab her chin roughly as she spread apart her thighs forcefully with her knee. “Just my dirty little pet.” Those words sent a shiver through the brunette woman's body, her insides twisting with force. 

She couldn't wait any longer. She had to touch herself now. And so she pulled her underwear off in hasty motions, nearly ripping them before she let one hand rush through her nether lips as her thighs fell open. She was dripping and so swollen from days of thinking about this and not being able to do it. She nearly sobbed as her fingers glided through her folds, teasingly dipping inside of her before a finger and then two slipped inside.

She began to move her hand in paced thrusts while her other hand played with her hard nipple, imagining Emma taking it in between her teeth and twisting it. With Robin not here she could be as vocal as wanted, letting pants and moans slip from her lips.

Embarrassingly fast she came on her own hand, but she didn't stop, because it barely took the edge off. She needed more and now. This orgasm would only be the prelude to several to come. 

She flipped herself onto her stomach, this time thrusting her hips forward, using the mattress to push her fingers in deeper. Fingers that had turned from two to three.

They glanced off of walls that tightened and pulsated hungrily, always demanding more and more. She moaned loudly into her pillows, one hand clutching them so that she could get a grip on the world as she began to feel lightheaded as pleasure raced through her.

“Absolutely disgusting. Rutting like a damned animal,” Emma would sneer if she could see Regina like this and the thought only made her wetter, as she rocked with gusto into the bed until finally she came a second and then a third time.

But she didn't stop there, riding out her waves on her fingers, hips gyrating hungrily for more. She wished she could touch herself harder. Wished her fingers were as long and limber as Emma's. "Really? Three weren't enough for you?" Emma would sneer down in disgust at her. "Are you that much of a slut?"

Regina never thought dirty talk would turn her on that much; she always thought it was something degrading. But coming from Emma's lips, it was like praise in a sick sort of way. And she craved hearing what insults Emma could come up with next. 

She snaked a hand down between her and the mattress and twisted harshly, making sure it hurt. It stung, and pinched, but not enough, not how Emma could do it. For all her fantasies, she could never touch herself the way Emma could, and it frustrated her sometimes, because she needed that little extra something. That edge to fully satisfy her. 

She tried to dip inside herself more vigorously, circling her thumb over her clit aggressively as she finally felt that snap inside her that signaled her release. 

This time the orgasm left her boneless and spent, gushing down her legs as she let out a strangled cry into her pillow. The shocks of her orgasm kept rolling through her, making her shiver and moan her way through each ripple of wet that rolled down her legs in time with the pulsations filling her inner core. At last once it was over, she rolled onto her back, hand still inside herself as she tried to recover her equilibrium. Her vision was a bit blurry around the edges and she draped an arm over her head dramatically as her lungs gulped greedily for air.

She felt sated but not truly. She wished the touches had been rougher. But she didn't know how to do it like Emma did. This would have to do for now until they saw each other again.

Wincing as she slid her hand out of her over sensitive pussy, she got up to clean up the place. She'd ruined the sheets and she needed to clean them up before Robin got home and could question the huge wet spot on it.

First, she would hide her collar. But as she went to unclip it, her heart clenched in fear of sudden realization.

For all her admiration of it, she had neglected to notice it could only be opened with a key. Her hands scrambled on the box, even tipping it upside down but no, there was no key here. Emma must have it.


What was Regina going to do now?