(In which we get some French.)
[Chapter I.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/tfo1hr/academia_mf_bondage_teasing_fingering_deepthroat/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share)
[Chapter II.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/th1hz6/academia_ii_mf_bondage_fingering_deepthroat_anal/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share)
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The previous encounter had done quite a number on Muriel. She had managed to evade Elliott’s gaze for a day, during which time she let her body recover. Elliott though, was growing restless. They were halfway through the week, and he wasn’t going to let his opportunity slide that easily. It was a school day. She’d have to show up somewhere.
He paced around the school, looking for her in every corner of every room. He poked around in closets, snuck around in empty classrooms, and wandered around the basement. He took some time to look outside, walking all the way to the lake, down to the cave, and a bit through the woods before turning back.
He was close to giving up – she’d managed to avoid him, so he must have missed something. He realized that the one place he forgot to check was the library. His leisurely strolling pace broke into a sprint as he headed straight for the library’s entrance on the second floor.
He stepped inside, immediately spotting her playing away at the piano at the base of the stairs on the lower level. He looked around to see if anyone was watching or nearby – but it was lunch hours, and food wasn’t permitted in the library. He inched towards the stairs, making sure not to let her spot him. He took a few steps down, before jumping onto the curved railing and leaping off towards the ground, landing just a few feet behind the piano bench.
*”Avoiding me again?”* He said. Muriel’s playing stopped.
“Obviously.” She replied.
“You know what that gets you.” Elliott said. Muriel sighed and raised her hands up above her head, wrists crossed.
“Go on, then… do what you will.” Muriel said. Her comment was met by Elliott’s tie around her wrists. He lifted her up, spinning her around to face him. She looked more annoyed than anything. It seemed she was putting on a facade of strength, and he wanted nothing more than to break it.
“While everyone’s at lunch, we’re going on a little adventure.” Elliott said, lowering her arms in front of her body and scooping her up into his arms. He carried her out of the library and through several winding halls, all devoid of the usual chatter. It was always eerie to be alone in these halls. Sometimes you’d hear the ghosts of scholars and nobles past.
He stopped at a peculiarly shaped bend in one of the halls where a few bricks were older than the rest. There was a gilded gate under the bricks that seemed to serve no purpose other than decoration. Elliott swung it open to see an old wooden door behind it, mostly rotted through. He went through it as well, Muriel in tow, shutting the gate and the door behind him.
Muriel kicked herself out of his arms just a few steps through the passageway. Her facade had already cracked. She looked at him with distress and shock, and perhaps a hint of fear.
“Why do you know about this tunnel?” She asked, her voice shaking.
“I overheard some rumors about secret rooms in the school. Wanted to check them out.” Elliott replied.
“You know damn well this one isn’t *just* a room.” Muriel said.
“I… actually was not informed of exactly what each room was, so… I don’t know.” Elliott frowned. “But, since you’re so worked up about it, would you like to tell me?”
“No, no, I- no.” Muriel refused. Elliott gave her a flat grin.
“Tell me.” He said. “We have a deal.”
“I- … you know that Monarch Academy is built on the ruins of an old castle, right?”
“Of course.”
“Well… this tunnel is one of the paths that leads to the dungeons.” Muriel hung her head to avoid the mania in Elliott’s eyes as they lit up.
“Oh, even better!” He said, throwing Muriel onto his shoulder and continuing down the tunnel. She swatted his back with her bound arms, but eventually she just let herself dangle in defeat. “You know, you managed to avoid me for a whole day yesterday. I was honestly kind of impressed. If this deal of ours wasn’t time sensitive, I might have even congratulated you. But, we’re on a bit of a schedule, so… I’ve got to have fun with you while I can, right?”
“… If that’s what you want.” Muriel said with a frown.
“Mm, good answer. You’re good at this.” Elliott said, swinging open the dungeon door. It was a cold concrete room that reeked of death, history, and rotting wood. There were iron bars that designated cells, and hanging up on a nail fit for a crucifix was a set of long-rusted keys. He set Muriel down on her feet and untied her wrists, keeping a close watch on her from the corner of his eye. He looked around, lifting the torches from their posts on the wall and setting them ablaze. It was a wonder they could still light, considering the dampness of the room. His eyes darted around the now illuminated room, landing on a pillory standing low to the ground on a wooden platform. “Well, I know what we’re doing today.”
Muriel followed his line of sight, spotting the pillory that had captured his attention. He turned around to face her, unbuttoning her blouse and slipping it from her shoulders. He planted a few kisses along her collarbone before slipping her trousers down, running his hand along the curves of her ass. She flinched, resisting the urge to make a break for the door. She very well could, but that would give him a reason to hunt her down, and that definitely wasn’t preferable. If this encounter and the last taught her anything, it was that she really had nowhere to hide.
He guided her to the wooden frame, lifting the top half and gesturing for her to place herself inside. She reluctantly knelt on the wooden platform and hung her neck and wrists on the arches of the wood, mentally wishing she’d made a run for it as the top half of the frame was locked into place. Elliott circled around her, standing in front of her and staring her down. He seemed rather amused.
“This is a good look for you,” He commented, slipping off his clothes. Muriel had almost forgotten what a beast he was. “Perfect view of that beautiful body of yours. What more could a Soleion want?” There was a pause, followed by a sarcastic laugh. “A D’hivernalles on her knees for him, that’s what.”
“And here I am.” Muriel sighed. She wasn’t even halfway through the week, and she was already at her limit.
“Here you are indeed. What a sight to behold.” Elliott said, touching the tip of his dick to the tip of her nose. She tried to turn her head away, unable to move much due to the wood locking her in place. He cupped her cheek in her hand and turned her head up to face him, locking eyes with her momentarily. He’d never noticed the sharp green spokes in them – then again, her eyes were usually rolled back in her head when he was involved.
He tousled with her waves of auburn hair, circling around to view her from behind. His eyes ran across all of her body’s little quirks – the café au lait birthmark on her shoulder, the winging of her scapula, even her shallow Venus dimples. She was undeniably beautiful, her family name aside. In fact, he briefly forgot that their deal only arose due to their conflicting heritage. It drove him mad. He was drunk on the power he had over her and seething with an insatiable hunger for her. She had unlocked the most carnal and lecherous side of him, and he was pretty sure she knew it.
“Muriel… do you have any idea how angry you make me?” Elliott whispered, kneeling next to her and placing a kiss just between her Venus dimples. The pillory rustled as she lifted her head in curiosity.
“Me? Why… Why do I upset you?” She asked, eyes tracing Elliott’s shadow. He stood up again, retrieving a whip from a nearby hook.
“Because you’re so perfectly made. You’re perfect. Too perfect. I feel like I need to ruin you for it, especially since you’re a D’hivernalles. I was honestly obligated to ruin you to begin with.” Elliott said, letting the length of the whip reach the ground. “Part of me wants to be kind to you but so much of me feels like I’m not supposed to, like I’m supposed to destroy you instead. I don’t know which part to listen to.”
“… You have me for a week,” Muriel couldn’t believe the words she was saying, nor the words that followed. “You’re a Soleion. If you don’t do it now, you’ll be beating yourself up over it later. You may not get this chance again with me, believe me. I’ll make sure of it.”
Elliott looked at her in shock. Was she…actually suggesting what he thought she was suggesting?
“Are you implying I *should* completely ruin you?” He asked, genuinely concerned.
“You and I understand better than anyone that familial matters have some level of priority over personal preference. My own preference would have been to slit your throat in the woods that night, but as a D’hivernalles I have an obligation to mend this feud if I can. That’s why I offered to begin with, and that’s why I offer now.” Muriel said. She waved her ring-bearing hand. “I got you to consider dropping it and that’s the farthest anyone of my line has ever gotten. If this is the price I have to pay for it then so be it.”
“I…” Elliott was too stunned to speak. “I’ll offer you a new deal. If you let me get it all out now, our original deal will end tomorrow night, three days early. But I have to warn you that it’s going to hurt.”
“Why bother asking me? You could just do it anyway.” Muriel asked. Elliott was a little taken aback. Was she *expecting* him to do this to her? Did she *want* him to?
“It doesn’t seem fair. You were completely honest on the very first night. You deserve the same from me.” Elliott said. Muriel hummed in thought. “Oh, and… I’ll drop the feud. With you, at least.”
“… Do it. I can take it.” Muriel said, cracking her neck within the pillory. “If you don’t follow through, I won’t hold it against you.”
The sound of the whip echoed in the room as Elliott cracked it against thin air, quickly redirecting it towards Muriel’s back. She yelped as it struck her, shifting her legs when it came down three more times. Elliott dropped the whip and gripped her hair at the roots, giving it a rough tug as he positioned himself at the wet folds of her pussy. He gave her no time to prepare or adjust, immediately thrusting at full force and speed. Her body collided with the wood that imprisoned her with each buck, serving as the percussion that backed her melodic cries.
Muriel wanted to thrash against him when his hand struck her ass. Her body wouldn’t listen though, and her mind certainly wasn’t in a state to be commanding her limbs. She felt the cool air stinging against the cuts on her back from the whip. She had skin as thin as parchment, but healed abnormally quickly to compensate. Still, it was a bothersome feeling. There was a contrast between the cold of the air and the warmth of her blood that numbed her mind like static, but each slap of Elliott’s hands against her was enough to take her out of it.
*”How much of this can you take?”* Elliott asked. Muriel mentally punched herself for finding the rasp in his voice so attractive.
“As much as I need to.” She quietly answered, most of her vocal strength already gone. “Do your worst.”
“That is *definitely* not a challenge you want to take on with me, *mon chéri.* I would strongly advise you not to challenge me to such things.” Elliott said. Muriel melted with just two words of his French. His French voice was deeper and buttery, and for some reason her mind associated it with a decadent caramel taste.
*”Vraiment?”* Muriel replied. Elliott’s movements came to an abrupt halt. *”Je te défie.”*
*”Mon Dieu…* Muriel, you… should speak French more often.” Elliott said. Her French seemed to have the same effect on him as his did on her.
“Technically, it’s my mother tongue.” Muriel said. Elliott laughed lightly.
“Well, I do have a way to test that.” He retreated from Muriel’s dripping cunt, poking the entrance to her ass. She had a feeling he wasn’t going to go slow here either.
“And what’s that?”
*”See what language you start screaming in.”* That was the only warning Muriel got as he plunged into her, his hands gripping her hips and forcing her even further onto him. She let out a silent scream, followed by broken gasps for breath. Elliott’s movements unmuted her screams, and they were even more depraved and needy than before. Her voice was caught somewhere between a desperate, filthy moan and a pained sob. He found the noise she made entrancing, continuing his rhythmic thrusts just to hear more of it.
It turned out that the pillory probably wasn’t made for someone as brutish as Elliott to be fornicating around. The top half of the wood frame broke away after Muriel collided with it a few more times, freeing her wrists and neck. Her instinct, against her better judgement, took over and she ducked under Elliott’s arm as it darted towards her neck. She made a break for the door, not having enough time to even realize how futile it was. Elliott grabbed a chain from the wall and swung it towards her, letting it wrap around her torso before pulling her back towards him.
*”Où allez-vous, chéri?”* Elliott taunted with a smile. “Can’t say I blame you for trying to run. Didn’t think that pillory was going to break so easily though.” Muriel’s legs buckled and she landed on her knees, the chain still wrapped around her. “Ohh, that’s… that’s very tempting… but I’d like to hear more of your voice, so that would defeat the whole purpose.”
Elliott lifted her up from the ground and unwrapped the chain, laying her on the leather bench by the table and straddling her. She was shaking beneath him, like a leaf in the Fall. Muriel’s arms did little to push him off as he slid into her cunt again. She let out a pleasured growl that quickly became a shameful moan as he lifted up her left leg and rested it on his shoulder, making a few quick preview thrusts for her.
“Don’t think I forgot how well this works on you, Muriel.” He said, his hips snapping against her. She tried to hold back moans to a rather unsuccessful degree. Elliott’s name was on her lips and she tried to suppress it, but she knew he could hear it regardless. He was right – this angle was probably the easiest way to break her. It slightly angered her that he, a Soleion, was the one to discover it.
“Va te f-faire foutre, Soleion…” she drawled.
“Well… here you are, doing that already.” Elliott said, amused by her slurred French. His thrusts were slow and deep, ever so slowly bringing Muriel to her edge. He quickened his pace, then slowed it just as much.
It was torturous for Muriel, who could feel the pooling heat begin to overflow. His quick thrusts were bringing her closer, and the slow ones were teasing her by keeping the prize just out of reach. Her moans were becoming more lewd and debauched by the second.
“Elliott…” Muriel whined, swaying her hips. “Stop teasing…gah… why do you always tease me so much?”
“Maybe I just like hearing you beg.” Elliott shrugged. He spent a little more time driving her to the edge, amused by her timid mewls of desperation. After three more denials, she’d had enough.
*”Oh, pour l’amour de Dieu-* baise-moi, Elliott! S’il te plaît, fais moi jouir tu enfoiré!” Muriel was slinging curses at Elliott, not even fearing for her own safety.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last bit.” Elliott said, grabbing her hips and slamming into her. She reached both of her hands towards him, holding tightly to his arms as he bucked into her with reckless abandon. Her voice was a cacophony of broken “S’il te plaît”s, “Merde”s and tears of pleasure. “Are you enjoying this?”
Muriel could only nod in response. Her lips and her mind were definitely not on the same page. Elliott looked down at her, observing the way her chest heaved with each erratic breath.
“Good… so am I.” He said, lifting one of his hands to cradle her tearstained cheek. She placed her hand on his, momentarily locking eyes with him before shutting them as he continued to pound her. He gave her a tender smile, gently rubbing her clit with his thumb. Her eyes flew open.
“Oh my- merde, tu-” she stuttered, her climax just within reach.
“You really are vulgar,” Elliott quietly chuckled to himself. Muriel was too focused on the growing ache between her thighs to protest. She could feel goosebumps raising across her arms, and her composure was now nowhere to be found.
“Elliott,” she choked out, her hands wandering towards his face. “Elliott, embrasse-moi…”
Elliott couldn’t resist a request like that from someone like her. He leaned down, locking lips with her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. She suddenly threw her head back as he pumped a few more thrusts into her.
“Elliott! Je- je jouis-!” She was barely able to verbalize her scream. Elliott silenced her with his own lips on hers. He felt her walls clench around him, quickly releasing his seed inside of her. He rolled his hips just a couple more times before collapsing on top of her, feeling her legs crossed on his back, drawing him even closer. He could feel her arms and legs trembling against him, their sweats mixing into beads and falling onto the leather below. He finally broke their kiss, admiring his work.
“God… you know what you are, Muriel? Incroyable. Superbe. Magnifique. All of the above and then some.” Elliott said, nipping at the base of her neck. “D’hivernalles or not, you are nothing short of divine.”
“You’re not so bad… yourself… I have to admit I was expecting worse.” Muriel said.
“Worse! Ha! If I actually did my worst, I’d be whipping you with metal chains and doing some other ungodly things.” Elliott curled Muriel’s hair around his finger, watching it spring back into place.
“Can you… actually… do that?” Muriel asked, suddenly concerned.
“Oh please, I grew up doing that for fun.” Elliott said with a scoff.
“… Okay. I’m definitely not going to drive you to that point then.” Muriel said. She stretched out her body, flinching as she felt her open scars stinging again.
“Oh. Sorry about that. I didn’t realize your skin was that thin.” Elliott said, burying his face in Muriel’s hair. “You smell nice…”
“Thank…you?” Muriel was a little taken aback. “Uh… I feel like it’s not the best idea to be hanging out in a dungeon right now.”
“Just give me a minute.” Elliott said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll bring you to my room and we’ll get you cleaned up. I’ll run you a bath.”
“Really?”
“Muriel, how many times do I have to prove myself as an honest man before you stop doubting I’m capable of treating you like a human being?”
“…What-”
“Too many. Just trust me more, love. Please.”
“Okay, okay. I trust you, Elliott.”
“Thank you.”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/tmjeu3/academia_ch_iii_mf_bondage_teasing_anal_pillory