Project Divinity

Interlude: Lost Inhibitions I

You need to fuck her, daddy.

No matter what he did, Lieutenant General Francis Hayworth couldn't get those words out of his head.

Having his wife tell him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't just fine with him sleeping with another woman but actually wanted him to do so had messed with his head. Even worse because he truly did lust after Rachel. Nothing would ever change what he felt for Charlotte. Even with how infatuated he was with Rachel he still believed that his blushing bride was one of the most amazing women in the world. But, damn it, his wife was hundreds of miles away while Rachel was right there.

The only thing that stopped Francis was his own blasted pride. He had held back from visiting Rachel for so long and it seemed as if the world itself was mocking his resolve, with even his loving wife telling him to go for it instead of being happy about his faithfulness.

But he had finally made his peace with it, mostly. He wanted to fuck Rachel. His stupid feet just wouldn't move when he told them to carry him to her room. And so he sat in his room, at his desk, ostensibly reading a book but in truth going over every conversation he'd had with his wife and with Rachel, growing more and more frustrated by the way his tight uniform pants constricted the erection he refused to touch.

He wanted to visit her. And yet he didn't. He wanted to vent his frustrations. And yet he didn't. Never before in his life had he been so torn. Military life was supposed to be easy, damn it.

There was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” he asked, perhaps a little more gruffly than he needed to.

“I was wondering if I could bother you for a moment,” said the voice Francis couldn't stop thinking about. The voice he kept hearing in his dreams. The voice that talked dirty to him in his head when he touched himself.

The Francis of a few days ago would have told her he would come talk to her later, so that he had time to quell his raging erection, so as not to give her the wrong idea. Except... it wouldn't be the wrong idea anymore, now would it? And so he took a deep breath, took a long look at the picture of his loving wife, and got up to open the door.

Every time he'd seen Rachel Cypher she'd been wearing her nurse's uniform, the one that looked like the exact midpoint between work attire and fetish costume. It was theoretically a modest outfit, the skirt just long enough to be socially acceptable and the top showing very little of her modest cleavage but even so it looked obscene on her. But that wasn't what she was wearing right now. Rachel Cypher was wearing a tank top and hot pants, a thin black choker wrapped around her throat and a touch of lip gloss making her lips look even more enticing, kissable and, indeed, more fuckable than usual.

In a more sane situation Francis might have questioned how she'd known to wear exactly the kind of outfit he had most wanted to see her wearing but at that moment all he could think of was bending her over and spanking her for wearing such a provocative outfit.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?” he forced himself to say.

“I'm afraid I've made a terrible mess and I fear I need to ask for your help, general,” she said.

Something about her was different to the woman he had met months ago when this project had started, both her appearance and her mannerisms had shifted in some subtle way he couldn't quite fathom, though he did know that ever since this shift he'd found her far harder to ignore.

“What kind of mess?” he asked.

“It'll be easiest if I show you,” she said and reached for his hand, trying to pull him along.

The feeling when her hand touched his was damn near electric and he sucked in a breath at the sensation.

Intellectually he knew that, as a high-ranking demon, she was far stronger than a lowly human like him could ever be but she didn't actually exert that kind of force, instead forcing him to choose whether or not he wanted to go along with her. He might even have hesitated if she'd tried to use her superhuman strength to drag him along but instead she was giving him the choice and it let him believe, not think but believe, that she truly was just a drop-dead gorgeous young woman who needed his help.

And so he let her drag him off. He had expected her to drag him to her bedroom, using this as an elaborate excuse to seduce him. But instead she dragged him to her infirmary, or more accurately to the office she had in the back of it. And immediately he saw that the mess she'd spoken of was not just an excuse.

A set of files was on her desk, the manila folders open to reveal the papers inside. The paper used to be crisp and pristine but what looked and smelled like a small ocean of coffee had stained everything a deep brown, ruining the paper.

“What was in those files?” he asked.

“Our newest batch of recruits,” she said quietly.

“What about the computer the files were on?”

“Nuked as well.”

“And what do you expect me to do?”

“W-well, I don't have the authority to ask for new copies to be sent, so I wanted to ask you if you could...”

He rubbed a hand over his face. This would be the work of at least a day, probably more like three. And every single call would have to start with an admission of guilt. Rachel worked for him and he couldn't exactly throw her to the wolves so he would have to apologize to a lot of his peers, losing respect and political capital in equal measure. And all because Little Miss Careless hadn't bothered to put a lid on her coffee cup or keep back-up files.

The hand not currently over his face clenched into a fist and his breathing quickened. When he parted his fingers to look through the gaps he saw her giving him a smile that held just a bit of a teasing edge. Had she done this on purpose, to get a rise out of him?

He let out a low growl and in response he could see her nipples hardening under her tight tank top, letting him know that she wasn't wearing a bra. Was she enjoying his anger? Oh, he would give her what she thought she wanted, but she wasn't going to like it.

He hesitated. Even if she'd done this on purpose, the kind of punishment he had in mind wasn't something he could simply do to a coworker. It was sexual harassment at best and rape at worst. And even if Rachel had offered him sexual relief multiple times he couldn't simply assume her willingness in all situations. Even if she was aroused by the situation that didn't necessarily mean that she was aroused by him punishing her. This whole idea was stupid and wrong and...

You need to fuck her, daddy.

He was on her in an instant, tangling a hand in her hair and putting painful pressure on her scalp as he grabbed hold.

“Do you have any idea how much work you've just created for me with this careless mistake?” he demanded.

“I'm sorry, sir,” she whimpered, playing the part of a reluctant sub extremely well, if only the scent of her arousal hadn't started perfuming the entire infirmary the moment he'd stepped in close.

“You will be,” he promised her and then turned her around, away from him, exposing that obscene ass clad in only a pair of hotpants, the kind that were so ridiculously short that the pockets were longer than the pant legs. “Bend over.”

“And what if I don't?” she demanded, putting up at least a bit of a fight.

“You've already earned extra spanks for this backtalk. Keep it up and your butt will be redder than your hair. Now bend over, young lady.”

She made a show of swallowing anxiously, then bent over the desk that still held the coffee-soaked files.

He yanked up on her hotpants, pulling them up until they barely covered her ass-cheeks, the fabric in between her legs disappearing between her cheeks like a thong.

Even though he was ostensibly going to punish her he couldn't resist starting the spanking session the way he always did with Charlotte. He placed his hand on one of her cheeks, running the tips of his fingers over the soft flesh, testing out what he was working with. And so he found that Rachel's skin was the smoothest and softest he had ever felt. His hand didn't sink deep into her flesh, she was too thin for that, but the skin itself felt absolutely flawless to his touch, as if conforming to his fingers. There was just one thing he could do to make the flawless skin of her backside even more perfect.

SMACK!

Rachel took a sharp breath in response to the spank she had just received. After smacking her butt Francis didn't pull his hand away but instead gave the freshly reddened flesh a squeeze, causing her to let the breath out again in a fluttery little moan.

SMACK!

Without warning he spanked her other ass cheek before squeezing that one as well. In response Rachel wiggled her ass at him and moaned.

She's loving this, he thought and had to bite his lip at the thought. Normally Francis was very patient when it came to bedroom activities. He had no issues tying up his brat of a wife, spanking her and then leaving her unfulfilled, her desire dripping onto the bedsheets as he watched in sadistic satisfaction. That was how he usually reacted to deliberate teasing like what Rachel had done to him, proving that acting up was going to lead only to punishment and not to reward. Except... he was way too keyed up to act like a suave dominant. Even now he wanted to cut the spanking short and bury himself balls deep in that tight pussy. Pulling her hotpants taut the way he had had been enough for him to see that not only did Rachel not believe in silly inconveniences like underwear but also that she was shaved smooth and dripping wet, her juices running down her thighs after only two spanks.

He held himself back even though it took all of his willpower to do so and raised his hand once more.

SMACK!

“Not so rough, daddy,” Rachel whimpered and Francis almost lost all resolve.

Not only was that one of the sexiest things he'd ever heard but it made him question, once again, if maybe she didn't like it. And then his eyes widened when Rachel sent him a mail on his CARD. It simply read:

He ground his teeth. Rachel had just told him very clearly that not only was she alright with what he was doing to her but that she trusted him enough to stop if she told him to. That part was great and a huge weight off his shoulders. However, the safeword she'd chosen was the name of his youngest daughter. And when he looked back at her he saw her smirking at him, telling him that it had been a deliberate provocation.

This little vixen really wants to get punished, doesn't she?

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

He gave her three spanks in rapid succession, making sure to catch the tops of her thighs with each blow.

“You're so mean, daddy,” she whined even as her juices ran down her legs, already down to her shapely calves.

“You've earned this spanking, little lady,” he said, falling into his dom persona almost too easily. “Now be a good girl and take it without complaint.”

“Okay, daddy,” she whimpered, sounding chastised at least for a moment before one of her hands slipped between her thighs.

He slapped it away.

“Ouch,” she squeaked. “Daddy...”

“None of that,” he said. “Daddy decides when and if this pussy gets any attention.”

She made a low buzzing noise of discomfort but soon relented and pulled her hand away, clutching the table so her hands wouldn't wander.

SMACK! SMACK!

“I hope you're reflecting on your mistakes at least, little lady,” he told her.

“I am, sir,” she whimpered. “I'm so sorry!”

“Are you really?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she whined. “I'm really sorry!”

SMACK!

“What for?” he demanded.

“I'm sorry I made so much more work for you, sir!”

SMACK!

“What else?”

“I'm sorry I talked back to you, sir!”

SMACK!

“I'm sorry I teased you!”

SMACK!

“I'm sorry I'm so clumsy!”

SMACK!

“There's more, isn't there?” he demanded.

She stayed quiet.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“Well?”

“I'm...” she whimpered, tears in her eyes and her head flushed. “I'm sorry I'm such a bad girl.”

Smack.

“I'm sorry I dressed like a slut.”

Smack.

“I'm sorry, sir! Your punishment made me wet!”

He allowed himself a smirk. It certainly had. Her thighs had been damp ever since he'd bent her over, her juices running down her legs. But by the time he'd been done with her there had been a dark spot in her hotpants and a puddle between her feet. The entire office smelled like like, fruit and spices and sex.

Normally after such a blatant provocation he would have punished her by ending things right here, leaving her unfulfilled and frustrated and forbidding her from pleasuring herself. Charlotte had a chastity belt back home for just such occasions.

It was part of what he loved about his kink. He refused to use sex as punishment. He knew of doms who punished their partners with rough sex, some of them taking glee in violating their subs' butts with little or no preparation as a punishment for acting out or disobeying. But that wasn't what Francis liked. Instead of punishment he used sex as a reward for when his partner behaved herself. In his mind, the only reaction he wanted when he chose to have sex with a woman was relief and satisfaction.

Except... it had been months and months and months. Under normal circumstances he would have had the resolve to punish Rachel by not giving her what she had so clearly been asking for, but not now. He needed to cum inside this gorgeous creature. But the least he could do is get the punishment over with before he started giving her the fucking she'd been begging for.

Then again, there was one thing he enjoyed doing that allowed him to take pleasure from his partner while punishing her...

“Very well,” he said. “I'll give you the chance to earn my forgiveness. You decided to get wet while I was punishing you. You were supposed to reflect on your behavior and instead you got off like a needy little harlot, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered.

“So it's only fair if you took another kind of punishment before I forgive you, wouldn't you agree?”

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled, then hoisted her up, one arm between her legs and one around her waist, and manhandled her to the other side of the table, where he dropped her onto her back, her head hanging off the side of the table.

She stared at his crotch, which had long since started tenting, and her breathing came quicker and quicker, her chest heaving. She didn't have the most impressive chest, her breasts just large enough to fit comfortably into his hands, entirely unlike what he had expected of a succubus, but he honestly preferred this size, and they were more than large enough to be absolutely mesmerizing with the way she was panting.

He reached out and stroked her cheek, once more fascinated with just how smooth and flawless her skin was, and she leaned into his touch like a kitten eager for affection. He bit his lip and pushed his thumb into her mouth and she began sucking on it greedily, her tongue squirming around the proffered digit.

Lord Almighty, he thought, if her mouth felt this amazing on his thumb, how good would it feel on his cock?

He was going to delight in finding out.