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If they never left...

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Another failed attempt to escape the Ninth had Gideon locked up again, security cuff on and heating turned off in her cell. Fantastic, going to freeze to death again. She had been down there for a night already, as her shitty dark Lady willed Crux to keep her.

With only dirty magazines and the bell to keep her company, Gideon sighed with quick boredom. She had done her daily exercise routine twice today as Aiglamene didn’t pick her up this morning, probably because of Nonagesimus riding a high of power again.

Some more hours went by as Gideon was burning the titty articles into her retinas for the thousandth time that night, until she heard steps outside. Small steps, booted steps, not like those familiar ones of Crux or Aiglamene. Could it be? The Reverend Daughter herself coming to scold Gideon in person with that sour paint-covered face and tiny, skinny build?

Gideon sat up as the door clanked open and the expected dark mistress stood, dressed in her regular black clothing and skeleton rib cage.

“A visit from the queen, what a rare occasion,” said Gideon, “are you going to inject me with poison this time?” Harrowhark Nonagesimus said nothing, painted face still in her sour expression and she stepped in and closed the door.

“How’s your skin under there? Dry? Crumbling? Maybe you’ll crumble away before you die.”

“I’ve had enough of this,Nav. It’s been 20 years,” Harrow’s expression finally breaking into one of anger, “you could have killed people with this attempt. You could have killed yourself.”

“Sounds like a good time if you ask me.” Gideon layed back down and flicked her magazine out to read again. To her surprise, Harrow stomped up and snatched the magazine from her, throwing it to the other end of the cell and taking a fistful of Gideon’s shirt. Her face a hairs width away from Gideon’s with pure rage in her brow.

“How dare you just lie down here and look at these magazines after a stunt like that! You put so many lives in danger! I hate you intensely, Nav, but those people are my responsibility and I will not have you endanger them like you have done.”

A thick silence filled the room as they stared each other down. Two seconds pass… three… four…

“Bothered, My Lady?” Gideon smirked, not letting her eyes leave Harrow’s, “Because the magazines are free for the taking if you really need it.” And with that Nonagesimus crushed her face into Gideon’s, a kiss that hurt to take, but spread electricity through both of their spines. Rough and wet, sloppy. This is how they have kept themselves from physically killing each other all these years.

Skeletal hands erupted from Gideon’s cot, grabbing her wrists and pulling them back to the bed. Another set grabbed Gideon roughly by the throat and pulled her back to hit her head against the flat pillow behind. She gasped with the shock and wriggled to set herself free, but more hands appeared to keep her muscular frame down.

Nonagesimus scraped her hand down Gideon’s front and roughly tore the shirt apart to reveal her chest and abs. The hands scratched at Gideon to keep her down and her chest quickly rose and fell as she gasped for air, the hands choking her barely a few steps away from dangerously.

“I hate you, Nav,” she growled, “I hate you so much.” She tore Gideon’s boots and pants away and more hands were brought up to hold Gideon’s bulky legs down and apart. Gideon stilled for a moment and breathed heavily. “Anything to say, Griddle?”

“Fuck you, Nonagesimus.” Gideon heaved and started her struggle against the restraints again.

“As you wish.” Harrowhark went to don a strap, the size of which Gideon barely thought she could take and struggled even more.

Every time this had happened Gideon was forbidden from touching Harrow by the same restraints. Now and then she had broken away and aggressively pawed at her before being pulled back with even more constructs. Gideon always struggled to top but always ended up bottomed in their fury-fuelled sex due to Harrow’s need for ultimate control and ridiculous cheating tactic of necromancy.

Harrowhark lined herself up, still fully clothed over Gideon’s naked, squirming body. Despite the circumstances, Gideon was soaking wet and ready for her.

“Give in, Nav. You never win here.”

“Make me, Nonagesimus.” And with that remark, Harrow pushed and finally entered Gideon. She started a rough rhythm as Gideon yelped and panted and growled with the pressure on her neck and Harrow raking her nails up and down her sides as they explored her and left dark red trails behind. Gideon could only squirm and be glad at how deep down this cell was so no one else could hear the skinny little necromancer making a beefy swordswoman squeal under her.

Harrow leant over her as she picked up speed and panted, wet noises and loud moans filling the room as both of their bodies flush red with the heat. Gideon flinched and arched her back as Harrow bit down on a dark nipple, playing with it roughly between her teeth, sucking hard as the other was getting pinched and massaged by a stray hand. Gideon had lost this game again and relaxed as Harrow pounded her into next week with her surprisingly high stamina for such a tiny excuse of a human. The strap reached deep and stretched the swordswoman to her limits, but the burning pain felt good and she cried louder with each thrust.

A sharp heat filled Gideon’s lower abdomen as she came to her climax and shrieked out into the cell alongside the bell’s distant toll. Harrow slowed as she panted and made Gideon ride out her orgasm, before pulling the faux appendage out and standing again, looking down at Gideon as she always did after such encounters. Sweat dripped from her head as she discarded the strap and retracted her skeleton hands back into the ground, a small nosebleed building in her nose. Gideon lay panting finally being able to take in the air she needed.

“Clean up and go back to training with Aiglamene. It’s the only thing I allow you to have,” huffed Nonagesimus and then she left.

Gideon sat up with her shaking legs and glared at the door.

“Fuck you, Nonagesimus.”