Into Emma's Verse update (Patreon)

The weird part was that, as Emma ate the White Queen’s pussy, she didn’t consider herself satisfied. She was being humiliated, forced to perform, and her foremost thought was that she was in need of release. Emma felt like an overinflated balloon waiting to be popped. She wanted the White Queen to let out the pressure inside yearning to explode.

The White Queen had dropped her riding crop as Emma serviced her. While Emma begged her for relief from this agony, she picked up the White Queen’s crop and thrust the handle inside herself. She played with her breasts and she fucked herself, tweaking her stiff nipples.

But she needed more. She needed someone to fuck her. Emma moaned and gasped in her need. She begged, pleaded for relief.

Suddenly the White Queen snatched the riding crop back from Emma. “You’re quite willful for a bitch. You should ask permission before you take something that doesn’t belong to you. And you should beg before you treat yourself to the pleasure that’s only mine to give. I’m going to punish you for this, Emma. I’m going to whip you until you beg for mercy.

“Yes, mistress. Anything you say. I’m yours,” Emma said, falling to all fours and kissing the White Queen’s foot.

She didn’t at all mind the unsavory act of obeisance. She was a bitch, she readily admitted it, but not the White Queen’s. It was sheer ignorance that her other self managed to believe that. She was Scott’s. And the more the White Queen deceived herself about that, the ruder the awakening she was in for.

Now that their submissive session was almost at an end, the White Queen was going to find out just how Emma had fallen to him in the first place. But not nearly so slowly. No, this meal, Scott was going to devour all at once.

The White Queen let Emma worship her feet for a few moments, standing disdainfully over her groveling copy. All that mattered was power and she had the power. Whatever the older Emma thought she’d gained from her relationship with Scott was utterly pointless.

The White Queen decided she would never let go of this power. She made a promise to herself not to surrender, never to give into Scott Summers. Bad enough to let anyone but her sit upon the throne of power. How absolutely unbearable that Emma had yielded to him and then let herself be reduced to this totally submissive bitch as well. In her future, she would hold the throne without respite.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Scott said, an insouciant double meaning evident in his voice.

He’d always struck the White Queen as being rather stiff, but there was at least some cleverness and wit about him. At the same time that he praised Emma for her subservience, he jabbed the White Queen with awareness that someday hers would be Emma’s fate. The color rose in the White Queen’s cheeks at his implication. She pushed Emma away with her foot.

“I enjoyed myself,” the White Queen said, forcing a broad smile. “My aged counterpart didn’t, unless she’s more pathetic than I’d thought. So now you get to play your game with me. But I think you’d prefer keeping to that mewling little cockholster you’re familiar with. I’m not such easy prey.”

“I don’t know about that,” Scott said casually. “I have already got your cunt nice and lubed up. No need to waste time with preliminaries.”

The White Queen’s eyes widened. It’d been a long time since a man had talked to her like that. No one entered her presence without knowing she was a person not to be trifled with. But Scott used his crude words with such cocky familiarity, like he knew he could get away with it. Like he knew from experience. And that knowing impertinence sent a thrill down into her pussy which she had to make a real effort to suppress. She would not end up like his Emma.

“I wouldn’t dare to make that kind of insinuation if I were you,” the White Queen told him.

“Sure you would.” Scott’s smile left no doubt he was leering at her, even with his eyes coolly meeting hers, not yet seeming to take any notice of her perfect body. “You’d love it, just like you do now. You’re forgetting I’ve already had you. I know you can suck cock so hard, it makes a guy feel like he’s coming fire. And you’ve also got the hottest pussy I’ve ever fucked in my life. I can’t wait to cock it for the first time, all over again.”

“You can stop that brazen disrespect this minute!” The White Queen’s cunt was profusely wet. She’d already given her word to spread her legs for this man. Which meant to put him in his place, she could only try to intimidate him with her force of personality. She would not give in while he was being so insolent! “I don’t know what happened to make my older self such a whore that she would find this behavior charming, but I—“

Scott approached her. “Nothing happened. You’ve always been a slut. Look at the way you’re dressed. Look what you just did with yourself. I don’t mean any disrespect, your highness… this is just the right way to treat you.”

He dropped his hand to her groin, not even bothering to go under her panties. The White Queen whimpered, unable to do anything to stop him when he pushed his fingers against her groin and massaged her sex through the fabric.

“Doesn’t that feel good, Emma? I know you’re used to getting anyone to do anything you want—but it feels better when you’re not in control, doesn’t it? When all you can do is feel what’s being done to you… You can’t even decide not to enjoy it. That’s up to your body and your body knows what it likes—”

“Stop this!” Her voice was girlishly high with excitement. All her pretentious thoughts about codes of honor and keeping her word were fleeing her. She didn’t give a damn about all that. All she cared about was how good this felt—and it scared her. “Ggghhh! Please, I know you, Scott, you’re a hero. You wouldn’t… wouldn’t assault me…”

“Assault you? I’m not even making you feel bad… am I?”

With confidence bordering on arrogance, Scott knelt in front of the White Queen. His posture mocked her; she in no way felt like he was paying homage to her. Instead, she waited like a paid servant on Scott as he calmly drew down her panties, knowing she would do nothing to stop him.

The White Queen could only watch silently as her panties came down off her milky white ass, down her tapering thighs, and cresting her high boots. The lace whispered against the leather until her panties were down at her stiletto heels, leaving her naked from her corset to her boots. Despite how little difference a pair of panties made to her nakedness, the White Queen felt like there’d been a sea change, like she’d gone from a suit of armor to nudity. She’d been invincible before; now she was vulnerable.

Scott grinned. He could smell the pungent scent coming off her glossy wet pussy. “I don’t think I’m making you feel bad at all. In fact, I think I’ve got your interest…”

He ran his hands from the front of her toned thighs to the back, skirting the tops of her boots. Teasing her by shimmying his fingers over leather and over bare flesh, sometimes letting her feel his touch and sometimes only being able to imagine it as he stroked her boots instead.

His fingers moved up the back of her thighs until they were cupping her bare buttocks. Then he pulled her forward until she was stopped by his head, face sinking between her legs. His lips touched to her moist pussy, sucking away some minute traces of her flowing arousal.

“As well as your undivided attention.”

Emma keened. He wasn’t eating her yet, but he was starting to—before the pleasure began, her inner flesh stirred with lust. She craved more. And what she wanted, Emma had. She wanted, in some small way, to be Emma… Scott’s bitch.

“Hhhh! No, Scott, you can’t… I can’t… feel this way… nnnh!” The White Queen quivered and grimaced as the pleasure sank into her, soaking her pubic folds with wetness. Her strength of will, her personality, everything she cherished about herself—suddenly it all felt like a thin veneer over a cum-hungry slut, to be stripped away in an instant and leave her as one instead of the other.

“Are you enjoying yourself right now? Because you’re going to love when I do this every night…”

“Eat my pussy!” The White Queen grabbed his thick locks, lustfully pulling him closer to her ravenous cunt, as though she couldn’t bear for there to be any distance at all between her tender flesh and the source of the pleasure she was experiencing. “Yes, you little bastard, just like that! Make me come! Keep going until you make me squirt all over that handsome face!”

Scott sucked away her flowing juices, stopping only to slither his tongue into the sensitive folds of her cunt. The White Queen gasped and pumped her hips, fucking herself on his mouth.

“Harder, motherfucker!” She reached down between her legs and spread her labia, exposing her womanhood to whatever Scott wanted to do to her. “Suck my clit now! Oooooh, yes! That feels good! You shit, that feels like I’m about to cream!”

Scott squeezed her ass hotly, as if trying to bruise her buttocks with the prints of his groping fingers. His lips wrapped around the White Queen’s clit and he sucked it into his mouth, where it was further tortured by his tongue madly stroking its tip.

“Coming!” The White Queen’s voice was as unrestrained as it was guttural. She wasn’t speaking so much as voicing the spasms convulsing in her pussy, exploding all around Scott’s wiggling tongue. “YES! Oh fuck me, Scott! Tongue my pussy and make me come!”

Scott kept up the pressure on her clit, not allowing her ecstasy to let up even for an instant. Her slit was drenched and drenched again. Finally, the intensity was too much for the White Queen to take. She felt faint.

Then she felt Scott’s hands grab hold of her cape and pull. She lost her balance, not that she had much to begin with as multiple climaxes pulsed inside her. But the next thing she knew, Scott was standing over her. The way he glowered at her was as intimidating as his incredibly stiff manhood—but the White Queen was getting to like being intimidated.

“Did you refer to me as a bastard?” he asked her with discerning politeness.

“That’s what you are, you little fuck!” The White Queen giggled—something she never ever did—but her saturated senses had her feeling like she was high on laughing gas. “Only a real bastard could make me come that hard! Oh, and a son of a bitch, too! It took a complete SOB not to stop after the first time I climaxed—God’s sake, you could’ve killed me! Not to mention tempting me with that big, hard cock hanging loose this whole time…”

She sat up, running her hands up his legs with clear entreaties. She looked up at him, looked into his eyes, promising further delights that her hands were too crude and tawdry for. He’d only know this deliciousness when he was inside her.

“Well, consider me tempted. Now I want to know what I’m in for when my older self ends up a slave to that big stud prick of yours…”

Scott slapped her hands away. His expression was unforgiving.

“You call me ‘sir,’” he whispered. “When you’re allowed to talk at all.”