The Devil's Details

Rules Be Damned

It was Negan's hand traveling up your thigh that roused you from a dead man's sleep. You clamp your legs shut. Your softness was still aching and the thought of any kind of penetration chilled you. Everything hurt, from your punished sex to the raw cuts on your knees and knuckles. Negan's soft laughter is in your ear, his face nuzzled in your hair. He draws the covers back to look at you.
"You're beautiful after a beat down." He teased and got out of bed.
You watch his naked form move to the bathroom through your lashes. He's all awake and cheery and you feel like you got hit by a truck. When he comes back out, he's dressed and grabs your legs, dragging you to the end of the bed. You groan as every muscle you have seems to hurt.
"Sit up. Let's go. You need a bath." He tells you, pulling you toward the bathroom.
The tub is already filled. He helps you in and it smells like lilacs. But when the hot water hits your sex, you gasp at the raw burning.
"Reminders of lessons learned?" He asks, tossing a washcloth in the steaming water.
God, you fucking hate him sometimes. Most times.
"You have ten minutes to get done. If you're late I'm coming in here to get you and then I'll just add on to what I owe you. There's clothes on the table over there."
You sigh miserably and sink under the water. You hoped he would have reconsidered because of what he had put you through the previous night. But that was not his style to simply let shit go.
You scrub yourself as quickly and as thoroughly as you could and get out of the tub. Standing in the mirror, you see the hickies Negan left for the world to see. The one on your breast was especially for you. But the one on your neck, the giant, purplish, red one, hung on you like a tattoo. It was going to be there for at least a week and a half. You pull a section of your wet hair over it, hiding it as best you can.
You're dressed and ready in under ten minutes and Negan is pleased. He had given you shorts and a tank top to wear. He had even managed to scrounge up a pair of boys work boots for you.
Breakfast had been served on the little table, the one you got shit faced at, offering strawberries, biscuits and strong coffee. There was no doubt the fruit was from the Haven. Most likely it was an intentional dig at you but you don't care. You're starving.
Negan watches you as you eat greedily. It was you that broke the silence.
"You don't have to punish me, you know."
Negan pulls his head back and smirks.
"Well of course I do, darlin'." He says in mock sympathy. "You broke the rules."
"Why and how?" You snap.
He takes a sip of coffee. It was like the two of you were discussing the morning weather. You scrunch your nose up and throw your hands in a 'what the fuck' expression.
"Fucking look at me!" You yell. "You destroyed me last night!"
"You destroyed yourself." He retorted. "Last night was a life lesson, sweetheart. This is about breaking Sanctuary protocol."
He yanks you from your chair and pulls you to a stand. He's gripping your arms fiercely and starts dragging you towards the couch. You're natural instinct is to resist and you do. But he is bigger and so much stronger. He pulls you down a across his lap.
"You never told me!" You wail. "You never told me the rules!"
There is a slight hesitation at your words. You're face is buried in a throw pillow and you're covering you ass with both your hands. You know what's coming. He wraps his legs around yours to prevent you from kicking and pins the arm farthest from him behind your back.
"Why do you think you're not feeling my belt, darlin'? It's because you're right. I forgot to tell you but I'm telling you now. I'll apologize personally when this is over."
You growl and start bucking but his hand comes down hard on the back of your thigh. It's probably why he chose shorts for you. You squirm at the sting.
You. Don't. Leave!"
Every word is punctuated with a sharp smack to your legs. He pulls your shorts up, revealing your sweet spot.
"God damn, I miss Daisy Dukes..." he says, running a finger between your legs.
"Ahhh, fuck no..." You beg.
"Don't worry, baby." He drawls. "All I'm interested in is making your ass as red as the strawberries you just ate. I'll offer my apologies when I'm done doing just fucking that."
He gives you four more in quick succession and you grind across his thighs.
"So this is how you punish your Generals?" You hiss. Your sweet spot is burning.
"No. Only you, baby." He answers, bringing his palm down twice. "You are my only female leader. You require a gentler touch. The men either get the shit kicked out of them or they die. And they tend not to break the rules, unlike someone I know. I don't want to see that happen to you. I'm pretty proud of the choice I made in you."
"You can't expect me to just whither away behind those walls like some fucking princess in a tower! "You protest.
Your words are met with an especially strong smack to your ass and you jump. That one totally stung like a bitch.
"You want to go beyond the walls? You send someone to ask my permission and I'll consider it." He says flatly.
You're enraged. You never wanted this position. He had dumped you at the Haven and left you with a huge mess to clean up. You were forced to comply to every demand. He had staked full ownership on you, not even allowing you to take a partner. You decide to tell him.
"Listen, motherfucker! I didn't ask for this! I would have scavenged for you if you had let me. I could have served a better purpose. There are others that could have lead the Haven."
You can tell he's agitated without being able to see his face. He was oddly quiet and he's got your shirt balled up in his fist, pulling it tight. He sighs deeply.
"You're questioning my choices now?"
He's calm, playing with the length of your damp hair. You don't answer. It was a loaded question.
"Your hair is a fucking mess." He states, moving his fingers through the tangles. "Hand me that brush on the coffee table, please."
He said please. That's not good, you think, as you reach over and hand it to him. He starts running it through your mane gently.
"I put you there for more than one reason and I think you already know what they are and why. Would you like a review?"
That was a loaded question too.
"No response, huh?" He asks. "You're getting smarter by the day."
The brush is moving through your hair smoothly now and he's petting it softly. He pulls it back into a tight ponytail and yanks firmly. Your head snaps back.
"Number one, you would sacrifice your own life for your people. That is a rare leadership quality."
Negan releases your head, strengthening his hold on your legs and pulls your shorts so far up they press painfully against your sore sex. He has total access to your ass and brings the back of the brush down hard. You buck at the biting pain. This was way worse than his warm hands. You're mouth was always getting you into shit. Another hit comes with a loud smack and you shudder. He runs the smooth wood over the rising welts.
"Do you remember me saying that?" He says.
You don't know whether you should answer or not. Everything was a catch twenty two with him. Don't answer? Get one. Answer? Get one anyway. You simply nod that you do remember. He had said that to you the night before you killed Keith.
"Number two, you're brave. You face any challenge I throw at you. You are a warrior and need to be protected until I call on you in the most dire of circumstances. You are fucking valuable." He informs you.
The insidious little brush comes down three times in a row.
"Fuck!" You shout, trying to kick your legs. But he has them pinned.
"And number three, I can't have you at the Sanctuary with me. I enjoy your company a little too much. I need a clear head. Always."
He swats you three more times and you wiggle against the relentless burning . He's doing this because he LIKES you too much? He truly was the king of dicks.
"You got wives for that!" You yell.
Your outburst is met with a flurry of well placed smacks and you suck your breath in through gritted teeth. Your ass is on fire.
"My wives are baubles. Status symbols if you will. I keep them because if I didn't, they would be dead. I keep you at the Haven because you're more than that. You know how to survive but you still need protection...from yourself."
He reaches for a strawberry and holds it next to your ass cheek and pops it in his mouth.
"Almost." He laughs softly. "Also, you respond so beautifully to my kind of torment."
He's touching you between your legs, seeking out the wetness that you know is there. Even when he was admonishing you with words and pain, his touch turns you into a flame. You don't know how to extinguish that fire. Even though you were raw, you find yourself wishing for more. You hate it.
Your body jolts as he brings the paddle brush down continuously until you give in and cry out. You're panting into the throw pillow as he picks up another strawberry.
"Yup. Perfect fucking match."
He releases you and flips you over so that you're face up. Perspiration slicks your skin and he feeds the berry to you. He pushes his hand down the front of your shorts and strokes your wet fur. He contemplates you for a moment and starts unbuttoning your shorts. You push his hands away and he gives you a warning look.
"I told you I would apologize to you when your punishment was over." He tells you, pushing your shorts down to your ankles. "You were right when you said I didn't tell you about that particular rule."
He scoots out from under you and strips you from the waist down. You can't take another pounding from him. Your entire lower region either aches from an hour of penetration or burns from the business end of a brush.
"Please, no..." you whisper.
He pulls you into a sit and kneels by your knees, which are clamped shut. Strong hands move you to the edge of the couch cushion and pushes your legs apart roughly. He looks you in the face, his eyes narrowing.
"Don't ever try to hide yourself from me." He warned. "If I want you to fuck me, you will, sore or not. This is a reward for you."
He flicks his tongue over your core and you gasp. He repeats. Just one torturous, strong lick and you raise your hips to meet him, silently begging for more attention. He moves his tongue quicker now, increasing the pressure and making you squirm. He peels your top up to see your breasts, his hickey clearly visible and he smiles into your softness. He loved making you want him and he loved owning you too. You feel his fingers at your entrance and you whimper.
"Negan...please."
"Shhhh..."
He gently inserts them and stays there, staying focused on the center of your sex. You suck in your breath as the invasion reminds you but his tongue makes you forget the stinging. Slowly, he moves his fingers inside you, finding the spot that makes you the weakest. A flash of heat overwhelms you and the tickling sensation in your stomach drops down between your legs. Your little bud is swelling and you dig your fingers into the couch. He's sucking gently on your core and as he increases the probing inside you, your orgasm takes you immediately. You burst on his face and he moans in satisfaction at your surrender, drinking in as much as he can before slinking up your body and attacking your mouth. You return his kiss enthusiastically.
"Get dressed." He says against your lips.