Baker and Jones Ch. 06

Samantha's expression changes as soon as he leaves, and she tilts her chin proudly at Annette, dropping her voice to a whisper. "You want to fuck me in this dress, don't you?"

"God, yes," Annette exhales quickly, her voice replying without any direction from her mind. Her eyes search around for Cordelia once again, concerned she might be secretly overhearing them.

"Must you be leaving so soon?" She notices Annette's worry, a firm pout spreading onto her lips.

"I... I'd rather not bring trouble upon either of us."

"I believe I'm particularly interested in trouble tonight..."

Annette swallows, feeling her words fail her. Cordelia, like Admiral Deveroux, has a talent for disappearing for extended periods of time. And Annette had already completed her assigned tasks for the evening... Samantha passes the drink from her hands into Annette's.

"Take a sip," she commands. "For your nerves."

Annette obeys, taking a long sip of the champagne. She chokes it down, feeling as though her ability to drink had suddenly been forgotten. It's difficult to even think as Samantha's eyes wash over her, sending a far too consuming rush of need across her skin.

"You've been thinking about me each and every night," Samantha purrs, watching every tiny expression upon Annette's face.

"I'm not sure I said 'every-'"

"Finish that sentence and see if my feelings remain intact," she threatens playfully.

Annette lowers her head and blushes. "I suppose it is every night."

"Take another sip," Samantha orders.

Annette nods, tilting the glass and allowing it to temper the frightful jitters inside her body. It's impossible to remain calm in her presence, Annette quickly realizes. Samantha was in her element, and in that dress, with her stare constantly peering through Annette's defenses, she's frightened to realize that she's unable to resist her charms. There's simply too much of herself caught up in the high of her attention to step away.

"Spill it on my dress."

"P-pardon?" Annette coughs, a dribble of champagne trickling down her chin.

"Spill it upon my dress."

Annette glances around nervously. "Are you sure that's a wise-,"

"Spill... it... on... my... dress..."

They lock eyes with one another, and Annette can clearly see the deliberation within Samantha's thoughts. This was happening, Annette realizes and accepts. All concerns of Cordelia or social politic or consequences melt away into the icey blue pools of Samantha's eyes. A timid side of Annette's mind, the only part allowed to consider repercussions, vaguely muses that so long as they returned promptly, they could easily escape the ire of the crowd. No one would notice the disappearance of an unrecognizable collar.

She steps forward with a fake imbalance and trips, pouring out the contents of her glass upon Samantha and gazing on in horror. Samantha flashes a quick mischievous smile, then leaps back in shock and gasps with the highest offense she could summon. Annette draws herself into the act as well, allowing a terrified expression to overtake her face. She scrambles, making as though to assist Samantha with damage control of the spill, only for the noblewoman to swat her hands away.

"How dare you!" Samantha shrieks, drawing the attention of the nearest crowd. As the surrounding nobles slowly realize what transpired, Annette feels their looks of consternation and distress pour over her.

"My l-lady," Annette croaks, bowing with deferential fear. "I'm so s-sorry!"

"Sorry? Sorry!? I demand a true apology!"

"Miss, please, it was a mist-

Another noble steps forward, taking the glass from Annette's hands and staring her down angrily. For a brief moment, Annette worries for the consequences of Samantha's ploy, but a quick glance from the woman settles her nerves.

"Lady Deveroux, do you require an-," the nobleman asks, only for Samantha to angrily wave him away.

""I'm quite alright, Lord Hemming," she cuts, glaring at Annette with a punitive fury. She snatches Annette's wrist, gripping it tightly. "This wretched girl will assist me in fixing her error."

"Of c-course, Miss," Annette nods desperately.

"Have you any understanding of what a dress such as this costs?" Samantha scolds, beginning to drag Annette away from the main room and into a side hallway. "I should have your head for this!"

"I'm so sorry!"

"Who is your owner? I demand to speak with them regarding compensation for this-," she cuts her sentence off as the two of them duck behind the nearest doorway, shutting the door after them. Samantha's face softens, and her grip on Annette's wrist drops into a casual hand-hold. "A believable performance, dear."

"How expensive is that dress? Should I be worried about-,"

Samantha interrupts her with a forceful kiss. When she breaks away, she pulls Annette down the hallway with her, descending further and further from the party. "Have I not remarked that you are worth such costs to me?"

Annette blushes, still feeling the excited jitters of the kiss. "I suppose I find it difficult to believe that I am worth such liabilities."

"I'm sure you will be able to find some method of repayment, dear," she smirks. "Come along, I discovered a suitable location for us earlier."

She pulls Annette through a doorway and into a second hallway, stopping in the middle of the walkway and beaming. Staring at Samantha and seeing the amorous look in her eyes, it's difficult for Annette not to believe that she must be a remarkably beautiful woman indeed. If Samantha found her this desirable, how could anyone deny that she was to be admired?

"Kiss me," Annette pleads, resting her back against the nearest wall and letting her face wash with adoration.

"As though you needed to ask," Samantha smirks. She launches her body against Annette's, shoving her deeper into the wall and kissing her with a desperate force. Unlike previous encounters with the noblewoman, her kiss is ravenous and driven, her hands touching her hips as though she wanted to rip Annette's clothes from her. Annette is mildly embarrassed to find the idea enticing.

Samantha pulls back, throwing a hand to Annette's chest to keep her pinned. "Apologies for the rush, dear, but I'm afraid our time is limited."

"Nonsense," Annette sighs, her heartbeat racing in her chest. She covers Samantha's hand with her own. "It's not like you need to do much to warm me up."

The woman steps forward, beaming excitedly. The back of her free hand strokes Annette's cheek and she can feel the sharp edges of her wedding ring gently tug against her soft skin. "Widen your stance," she orders.

Annette flushes, opening her thighs and shifting her feet over a few steps. Samantha's hand on her dress drops down to Annette's hips and lays flat against her clit, straining against the lining of her panties. She closes her eyes to savor the touch, gently increasing in pressure as Samantha's hand continues brushing along her face.

"I adore the little faces you make, Annette," she whispers. "So deliciously pained, so full of need."

Annette nods, focusing on the feeling of her delicate fingers locating the sides of her shaft and gripping it with an aggravating lightness. She pushes her hips forward into Samantha's control and is embarrassed by the quiet, whimpering moan that escapes her lips. When she opens her eyes again, she can feel her clit harden even more at the sight of the radiant satisfaction on Samantha's face.

"I have a task for you, my dear," Samantha declares, dropping down to the floor briefly to grab the hem of Annette's skirt. She pulls it up, lifting the dress enough to improve her access, and tucks the fabric into Annette's hand. "Keep this out of my way, won't you?"

Annette nods, her skin growing hotter and hotter with each passing second. Samantha then reaches underneath her own skirt, pulling out a small, flat tin that must surely have been tucked into her own negligee for safekeeping. She opens it, revealing a smooth and fragrant cream, lifting it to Annette's nose to smell. It's fresh and sweet; the scent of lavender and rose.

"Lotion?" Annette cocks her head.

"For my dry forearms," Samantha explains. "But it has other notable uses for this moment." She smiles, displaying her left hand in front of Annette's face, a glistening ring flashing in the light. "Do you like my ring, dear?"

"It's stunning," Annette replies. It's a fantastical golden band with an enormous gemstone in the center, easily the largest diamond Annette has ever seen, not that there was much competition for the title.

"Revier gave it to me for our wedding. I believe it's actually a family heirloom of some sort, though how he managed such a priceless artifact I'll never know," she slips it off of her ring finger, bringing it closer to Annette's face. "I never bring it to the Faery, too much unwanted attention. Hold it for me, will you?"

Annette lifts her free hand to retrieve it, but Samantha clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "Open wide," she commands, opening her own mouth to guide Annette.

Confused, Annette obeys, timidly pulling her lips apart for the woman. Samantha brings the ring forward and sets the band horizontally between her teeth, forcing Annette to carefully bite down onto it to keep it safely in place.

"Good girl," Samantha coos. She returns to the tin of lotion, gathering a large dollop of cream onto the finger that had just recently been occupied by her ring. The hand lowers to Annette's panties, carefully pulling them down and sliding between her inner thighs. Annette feels her clit tighten as Samantha's fingertip gently presses down onto the rim of her asshole.

Annette sighs excitedly, the sound constrained by her teeth holding onto the ring as it exits her mouth. She locks eyes with Samantha, who drinks up every desperate twitch and look of delight on Annette's face.

"Keep a careful grasp," she coaches, glancing at the ring in her mouth, "that's my marriage you're holding between your teeth. What would Revier think if I lost it?"

Annette attempts to nod in understanding, only to be interrupted by the electrifying feeling of Samantha's finger slowly pushing inside of her. She closes her eyes and feels a satisfying groan roll within her chest, feeling a wave of fullness warm her hips and bottom. Samantha smirks and gives her no reprieve, suddenly adding her middle finger to join the first. It pulls a surprisingly loud gasp from Annette's lips, and she feels her focus narrow as the sensation of Samantha's fingers takes control.

Annette pushes her back harder into the wall, feeling herself squirm as Samantha begins sliding her fingers in and out of her, each knuckle carefully stretching her tender hole. Her fingertips hook slightly, and at the apex of their movement they push down against the soft button of her prostate, circling around it for a brief moment before retreating. Annette sighs rapturously, feeling a shiver of pleasure course through her with each push.

Samantha leans forward, placing a long and wet string of kisses along Annette's neck and collarbone, savoring her restrained, panting breaths. "I wish you belonged to me," she purrs, "I would play with you for hours and hours just to watch your face contort with delight like so."

She whimpers in response, feeling herself wish the reality could be true. Annette would do anything to make that possibility a reality, to get to have unhindered access and privacy with Samanatha.

"I'd commission a portrait of this exact moment," Samantha promises as Annette squirms delightedly. "Your beautiful face in delicious pain, the ring between your teeth... Imagine the look on the artist's face."

Annette laughs and it nearly sends the ring plummeting from her mouth. She bites down harder and stifles the giggle, focusing once more on the erotic feeling of Samantha's fingers.

"Careful..."

Annette nods, feeling her legs tremble as the pleasure builds. Samantha increases her speed, and with the extra force, her fingers push deeper and deeper inside, making Annette moan with each thrust. She tries to keep them quiet, anxiously constraining each sound and feeling a pressure build in her chest.

"I'd tell you to cry out my name..." Samantha teases, "... but it seems your lips are a bit preoccupied."

Samantha's free hand drops down to caress Annette's aching clit, and she's unable to control the next rumbling moan, letting it bounce around the empty hallway. She feels it stiffen eagerly at Samantha's touch, and a desperate pressure consumes her as she wishes for release. Samantha's thumb circles around the tip, using fluid dribbling out to lubricate her movements and making Annette let out a heavenly sigh.

"Poor girl," she continues, loving the way Annette soaks up her every word, "with how desperate you are it makes me think that Miss Jones isn't properly caring for her collar's needs... I assure you would be much more properly cared for in my home."

Annette falls deeper into the wall, her mind relinquishing its control to Samantha's skillful touches. She opens her eyes and stares at the woman, unable to comprehend anything other than the feeling of building pleasure inside and a sense of unending devotion to its source. She tightens her bite on the ring, resolving to keep it entirely steady.

Samantha's fingers thrust as far inside of her as they can go, lifting Annette to the tips of her toes as they press against her sweet spot, making her quiver with delight. The noblewoman increases the speed of her hand stroking Annette's clit as she does, and Annette feels her head roll backwards into the wall, drunk on the explosive pleasure inside. Her breath heaves in her chest, unable to get enough air to allow her comfort, and she focuses instead on the heavenly sensations.

"We'll need to fix that lasp in her care, won't we?" Samantha tormets happily, thrilled to see Annette have such a strong reaction. Annette nods quickly. "We only have so much time before we'll need to reappear in the party... it'd be a shame if you didn't get your release."

Annette whimpers frightfully, and it's exactly the reaction Samantha was hoping for. She enthusiastically drinks up the necessity in Annette's expression, immediately returning to the task of bringing her closer and closer to her finish. Annette fully succumbs to the feeling of Samantha's control, trusting the urgency in her hips to her care.

"I can't wait to see how you'll repay me when next we get a chance to-," Samantha whispers salaciously, only to be suddenly interrupted by the sound of the hallway door swinging open.

Annette's heart drops and for a moment it feels as though the bottom of the earth falls out from underneath her. The door slams closed as the figure steps inside, one hand raised to cover his eyes and the other held out in warning.

"Please, Miss Baker! Relent from such wrongdoing!" He cries out, unable to gaze upon the scene.

Annette bangs her head against the wall in frustration, cursing her luck that of all the people to catch them in the act it had to be the Deacon. Samantha, for her part, gives Annette hardly any reprieve, continuing to stroke her slowly as Simon creeps forward, carefully averting his eyes.

"It is not too late, Miss Baker," Simon pleads, "Forgiveness needs only but a moment of repentance to take hold and transform your ways!"

"Friend of yours?" Samantha mutters. Annette tries to remove herself from Samantha's grasp, but the woman hooks her fingers onto the tiny button inside of Annette and holds her in place without mercy. Annette despises the frightful part of her that grows more excited by the control she wields.

"As the Lord God decrees, 'Neither do I condemn thee,'" Simon continues, slowly making his way forward. "'Go and sin no more!'"

"How rude to gaze upon women in such a state," Samantha quips. "To invade our privacy so is surely a great sin." She returns her attention to Annette, who is amazed by either Samantha's confidence or arrogance to not be afraid at this moment.

Simon stops his approach about ten feet away from them, straightening his stance and declaring, "Annette, I implore you, is this not an invitation to instead seek out a new path? Your current trajectory is leading you into treacherous waters."

A constrained moan leaves Annette's lips as Samantha continues her motions, and she flushes with embarrassment. She attempts to remove the ring from her mouth and return it to Samantha but the noblewoman blocks her, keeping her locked in place to experience the pleasure of her touch. At the noise, Simon peeks his eyes out to witness the scene at hand, his face flushing bright pink as he looks upon Annette's predicament.

"Like what you see, Father?" Samantha teases, encouraging him to watch as her hand softly strokes Annette's tense member. "I have no shortage of favor to provide, should you wish to step closer. I assure you, your silence on the matter could entitle you to a great deal of our favor..."

"'Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial,'" Simon mutters to himself, sneaking another look at Annette squirming underneath Samantha's touch. "I seek no reward, and no condemnation," he rebuts nervously. "'Brothers and Sisters, if one is caught amongst sin, you who live by the Spirit should gently restore them.'"

Annette tries to remove the ring again to speak in her defense, but is once again prevented by Samantha, who seems to be enjoying her dilemma.

"Lady Deveroux," Simon calls out, "allow me to speak with Miss Baker for a moment, and I shall not report your transgressions to any power save God. Allow me this opportunity to set her heart right on the matter."

Annette locks eyes with Samantha, pleading with her. As much as she wishes to continue, Annette feels her fear take hold of her. Samantha might have the power and charms to escape retribution in this moment, but if Simon reports this event to Pullwater... Annette can hardly imagine the fallout. Samantha takes pity and relents, removing her hands from Annette and stepping away. Annette collapses breathlessly into the wall behind her, feeling her body resent the denied climax. Samantha retrieves the ring from Annette's teeth, kissing her quickly before she turns and strolls down the hall opposite of Simon, disappointed.

"You followed me?" Annette croaks accusingly, steadying her breath and glaring at Simon with an exasperated frustration. She lowers her skirt and fixes her dress, still feeling the shivers of need course through her legs.

"I witnessed the unfortunate mishap with Lady Deveroux's dress," he explains, finally looking at her now that he notices her modesty return. "I worried for your temptation, and that being alone with a woman such as Lady Deveroux would be too much for you to resist."

Annette scowls. She's frustrated to admit that he wasn't entirely wrong; Samantha's charms had been too much for her to overcome. "And yet you're concerned only for the state of my soul, not Lady Deveroux?" She looks down the hall where Samantha had disappeared.

"Sister Pullwater has-,"

Annette groans, dropping her voice lower. "Are you going to report me to her? Or to Miss Jones?"

"I do not believe you require a punitive solution, Miss Baker," his voice is full of sympathy and obnoxious sincerity. "As we spoke earlier, I expect that all you require is the proper structure."

"Oh, God," Annette feels her skin crawl. "You're going to force me to marry you."

"Nonsense," Simon shakes his head, mildly offended by the suggestion. "As I have already said, I do not wish you to be a coerced wife. I beg of you to open your heart and mind to see that this is what your soul needs to be set upon a righteous path."

Annette feels her mind racing, anxious to discover some form of escape. She needs some form of leverage to maintain his silence, but as she gazes up and down the hallway, embarrassed by what he witnessed, she feels herself come up empty-handed.