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PWP. Seriously. I couldn't tell you when or where this takes place. I just knew it had to.

Also, it's honestly my first time writing characters quite like Klaus and Caroline (more honestly... Damon and Elena are types I've written before), so I can't promise the characterizations are wholly faithful. But I did the best I could within a plotless fic.

And finally... there is kink here. And I mean BDSM. Not the tootsy-roll giggle giddy fluff that is 50 Shades of Grey. I mean kink people (well, minus a couple vampirey details) actively take part in. The only thing I chose not to do was anal sex, simply because I felt I needed to establish this... thing going on, first.

So. With all those disclaimers out of the way, if you so dare... enjoy.

In the darkness he sat, his hands splayed in a feeble attempt of calm upon his knees. A dark cloth wound several times around his eyes. Pathetic attempt of moonlight bled into the room from the tall slats near the ceiling.

Gray set the mood. Thick slabs of cement made up the walls and ceiling, with the only source of comfort being the thick, pillowy rainstorm colored carpeting. Carpeting she could not yet enjoy. Though her prey was blinded—hopefully—she wore white boots that stopped short of her knees. He’d once claimed to “not dislike” them, and ever since had shown quiet appreciation for her ability to comprehend his cryptic words.

She kept her eyes upon her prey as she quietly stalked toward him. His breathing hitched, indicating he heard her. His fingers barely twitched in acknowledgment.

He better not be able to see her. That was the agreement. And breaking the rules bore dire costs.

Silent to the human ear, she continued to creep forward at her own pace. One of her hands ran down her bare side, gliding over the sheer white lace that covered little more than a bikini bottom. He gave no indication he saw. This cautiously pleased her.

Behind the old wooden chair he sat upon were two sets of shackles. Fat chunks of chain coiled on the floor, leading one pair of restraints to the ceiling, and the other to the wall behind her prey. She finally ended up behind him. Hefting one of the shackles, she continued to observe him for any signs of his cheating.

Still nothing.


His ears visibly twitched as the chains clanked with her movements. Deftly, her hands clad with soft, worn white leather, she took one of his wrists and raised it before clasping the shackle to him.

“Who are you?” he demanded. His voice was rough, his breathing deceptively even. It made her smile; he was good, but by now she could read his subtle moves. A part of him still feared someone other than her had caught him in such a vulnerable position.

She refused to answer him, instead turning to the wall and tugging the chains through the back loop until his arm was parallel to the floor and at a slight angle behind her prey.

This new move caused her prey to become wary. Usually he was hung from the ceiling.

“Answer me,” he snarled.

She didn’t have to—yet. That was the agreement.

Instead she briefly brushed her hand over his face. His head turned, and she imagined behind his blindfold his eyes had narrowed. No tell-tale smug smile spoke of confident knowledge. And it wouldn’t. She never wore the same perfume more than once—she couldn’t. And if she went au naturel, he would know it was her in a heartbeat.

The mystery kept it exciting for him. And his tension stirred hungry sensations deep within her belly.

She traced insignificant lines from the swell of muscle in his shoulder down to his other wrist. Though she badly wanted to place her lips upon him, that was both a dead giveaway and, thus far, an unearned gift. Wistfully, she picked up another shackle and brought it around his wrist.

Her prey tensed. Every corded muscle along his back was ready to spring into action, prepared to fight to the death.

Before tightening the chains, she murmured into his ear, “Of course it’s me. Unless you found another mistress.”

His reaction was primal in the most enticing ways. The coiled agony swept away from him, while the telling bulge beneath his jeans swelled. “I could never,” he breathed, that awful smirk toying on his lips.

She pulled on the chains, yanking his arm sharply toward the ceiling and reveling in his hiss of pain. “You could never what?” she demanded.

Arching his back, her prey allowed his head to loll back toward her. He’d passed the test; the blindfold was solid, yet she knew he was straining to catch even the slightest glimpse of her.

“I could never, Caroline,” he said mockingly.

Her vision tunneled, and Caroline responded with a sharp slap across his face. He didn’t try to break free, but it wiped the smile off his face.

With grating reluctance, he amended his claim. “I could never find another.” He paused empathically. “My Mistress.”

Her gaze softened. Pity he couldn’t see it. Caroline leaned down, resting her hand in gentle juxtaposition where she’d just slapped him. Her lips pressed against his, and he responded like a starving man. For the moment, she allowed herself to be lost in the heated fullness of his lips. But when he attempted to slip some tongue, she pulled back fiercely to the tune of his greedy groan.

Caroline returned her attention to his restraints, ordering him to stand so she could further pull his right arm toward the heavens. He obeyed, if not without question.

“You could loosen them a little,” he snapped, shaking his other wrist for emphasis.

Caroline arched an eyebrow. “Seriously? After you ruined my lingerie last time?”

“You hardly complained in the moment.”

“Fool me once, Klaus,” she warned him, deciding to pull his left arm restraint back an inch more than necessary.

“All in the name of pleasure, love.”

“Whose? Don’t answer that,” she added. “That was rhetorical.”

Klaus bared his teeth to show off his deadly charming grin.

The shackles could hold any vampire, even without the poison of vervain. The herb was not a line they had agreed to cross just yet, which was why they had found his discrete underground hiding spot. (Or, Caroline often suspected, Klaus had compelled some unlucky humans into building a suspect underground sex dungeon.) But as a hybrid, Klaus’ edge of strength could break him free.

Still, precautions had to be taken. Like the vervain-less shackles, and her unspoken promise to prove who she was before he was wholly restrained. Klaus was not a man to easily give up mobility and freedom.

Except to her.

Caroline strode to a corner of the room, fishing a key from her wedding-white bra. She crouched and unlocked the old, ungodly large chest where they kept their . . . accoutrements.

“You are trying my patience, love,” Klaus sneered.

She scoffed, returning with what she wanted. And then she pressed herself against him, amused and flushed with pleasure as he struggled to be closer to her. Firm muscle met the curve of her breasts when Klaus writhed, and he allowed himself to moan. His heady breath threatened to intoxicate her.

Languidly, Caroline wrapped her arms around him. It was so difficult not to shiver in admiration from how toned he kept his body. The cut lines of muscle alone were enough to moisten her panties. She danced her lower half away from him—not that it mattered. Klaus inhaled deeply.

“You like smelling me.” It was more a statement than a question.

Klaus groaned in appreciation. He twisted his head, so that his stubble roughened her cheek. “Even if you didn’t insist on blinding me, I couldn’t stop myself,” he swore.

Biting down on a gleeful grin, Caroline used her empty hand to reach down and rub his arousal through his ever-restrictive jeans. Klaus bucked into her touch, his growl so deep it came from his wolf side more than human or vampire.

“Flattery gets you nowhere,” she told him icily. Though she continued to rub him, her other hand worked the scissors and began to cut what scant clothing he had.

Klaus yanked on his chains, snarling when it got him little to nowhere. The awkwardness of one arm above and the other behind seemed to pay off. Pleased with her ingenuity, Caroline knelt and abandoned the pretense of scissors. She tore the rest of his pants before the implements hit the cushioned floor.

He jerked again, and voiced his displeasure upon discovering she had moved away. “On the contrary, love,” he said. “Flattery appears to get me precisely what I want.”

Willing to concede, Caroline folded her arms beneath her breasts and flashed him a smile he couldn’t see. “Tell me what you want,” she murmured. All the while she admired his audacity to go commando. After all, the way home was quite a trek, and now he had no clothes.

Heat spilled from his tongue. “I want to have you beneath me. I wish to pleasure you until morning, first with my mouth, and then with my cock.”

Delightful as that sounded, Caroline knew she couldn’t just acquiesce. “Try again.”

Klaus’s tongue traced over his lip momentarily. “Might I at least taste you?”

Oh, yes. The mere memory of what that mouth could do to her clit rose Caroline’s body temperature to fevered heights. But she kept her voice frosty. “Maybe later, when I’m finished with you.”

Patience was not his strong suit. Klaus’ arms strained. It was not quite a serious effort, but both his need and cock were swelling. Caroline couldn’t help but stare. Oh, why had she forced him to stand? If he’d been sitting, she could have given in and grinded on his cock unto her own orgasms.

“Then use the whip,” he growled.

That caused her eyebrows to shoot up. Caroline spun and headed back for the trunk, hoping no small sound had betrayed her surprise. While the whip had never been excluded, nor had it yet been explicitly allowed.

She drew it from the box and walked back, rubbing her fingers along the handle admiringly. The base was made of solid yew, with true leather whips. A cat o’ nine tails in the truest sense—but with common white oak at the tips rather than simple plaits.

Caroline tested her snap a few times. Once she heard the beautiful, resounding crack! and Klaus jerked in anticipation, she knew she had her momentum.

She walked around him, pausing to trace his bare skin with her fingertips now and then. Often she would pause, cracking the whip now and then just to watch his swollen, obviously aching cock twitch.

As it was her first time, Caroline took her first shot at his back.

Klaus’s shout accompanied the red that welled out of his wounds. They didn’t heal for a few seconds, and then his flesh stitched itself right back up.

“Fucking Originals,” she muttered without thinking.

A hoarse laugh was his response, and Caroline punished him with another lashing. She repeated this at her leisure, whipping him once or twice, allowing the wounds to heal, and doing it again. While to the untrained ear his cries might sound like sheer agony, Caroline caught that distinct note of raging pleasure.

Klaus, a sadist in every other aspect of his life, had proven to embrace masochism in the bedroom. And if his words were to believed, Caroline was the only woman he had ever handed complete control to.

Between lashings, her lover ranted with that lustful accent. “I promise you, when this is over I will take you to my home and fuck you as I intend.” Crack! “If you think I won’t repay this tenfold, you are mistaken, sweetheart.” Crack! “Damn it, Caroline, I will make you pay for this.”

Every threat frightened her, yet somehow fed into her arousal. Caroline was embarrassed to admit she couldn’t walk without the dripping wet reminder of how horribly effective this was on her as well.

“I’m sure you will,” she managed to say condescendingly. Crack!

This time she fell to her knees before his wounds healed. Klaus’ rasping gasps shortened as she took his cock into her mouth.

And how wonderful it was, she realized. She’d been just as hungry to please him as he threatened he was to her. Fortunately for her, at his vantage Klaus had no real room to fight back with any significant power. He was helpless to the ministrations of her lips and tongue, and Caroline took full advantage of him in that moment.

Above her Klaus’s chest heaved, and his head rolled back. He rocked as best he could. But Caroline was a vampire—just because she wasn’t as strong as him didn’t mean she couldn’t push back with enough force to drive him still and wild.

“Caroline,” he gasped, a violent shudder rendering him momentarily silent. “Not—yet—”

She regretfully took his cock out of her mouth. But just so he wouldn’t think she was listening, she snapped, “You don’t give orders in this room.”

Then she delivered a sharp slap to his throbbing cock.

Klaus heaved a strange sound she’d never heard from him before, torn somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Fascinated, Caroline leaned back on her heels before trying it again.

Klaus jerked violently. A thin sheen of sweat coated him, adding a peculiar light.

“You like that?” Caroline asked.

“Oddly . . . yes,” he admitted breathlessly. As she lifted her hand to do it again, he snarled, “You will pay dearly for not clearing that will me first.”

Wincing, Caroline agreed. She had broken a cardinal agreement: discuss all kinks and punishments before implementation. Such a thing could shatter trust, and she knew she’d have to earn that back that very night—if not weeks after.

“I’d like to continue,” she said firmly. Yet she tried to instill a soothing note to her words, letting him know she would not continue without his permission.

Tension tightened the muscles in Klaus’ thighs. He said, “Yes.”

Relieved that she probably wasn’t going to pay with her life, Caroline delivered another stinging slap. Immediately she swallowed his cock again, following the tingling pain with heat. The combination made Klaus swear above her. His hips bucked in desperate attempt to drive his throbbing member in deeper, but Caroline responded by letting off.

She slowly climbed to her feet, ensuring her lace-cloaked breasts rubbed over as much of him as possible. Klaus growled in appreciation.

“I want you back in the chair,” she told him softly, tangling her fingers in his rust-tinged hair. Then Caroline gifted him what she had refused before—a deep, flaming kiss.

Klaus replied with eagerness, sliding his tongue over hers. Despite his position, his mouth did what he made it do best; completely take over. Caroline couldn’t help but lose a little control to his kiss. She pressed her hips against his, emitting a small whimper when his cock pressed firmly against her. She knew he felt her wet arousal seeping from her panties, and he proved it by grinding as furiously as he could against her.

And Caroline helped him, wrapping an arm around his back to keep him close. She tugged on his hair, breaking the kiss much to his outrage.

“I’m going to lower you,” she whispered.

Klaus didn’t respond with words. He bent his head back down and forced another blissfully passionate kiss upon her. Caroline moaned before she could stop herself.

She yanked away, slightly winded and disappointed in herself for caving. She was the mistress. Yes, this was still fairly new for her, but she’d been getting better at it.

So why was she still capitulating to his passion?

She took a moment to calm her tremors before going back to loosen the chains holding his hand toward the heavens. Caroline focused on her work, still kicking herself mentally.

Big mistake on both parts.

Without the shackle holding the arm overhead, Klaus abruptly yanked at the length of metal with a series of horrifying clanks. Caroline whirled in time to see him yank his less fortunate arm free with the deafening snap of metal links.

Within the space of a heartbeat, Caroline had gone from in control to pinned beneath the strongest living creature on the planet. Her blonde hair fell in her face, creating a thin veneer for her to watch her lover through.

“You cheat,” she gasped.

Klaus tore the blindfold off, ignoring the fact one of his shackles was still clamped firmly to his wrist. His eyes raked over her, burning with a mixture of righteous fury and the most animalistic lust Caroline had encountered.

“You temptress,” he murmured, his breath warm and heady. Without another word, Klaus crushed her mouth with his. She emitted a muffled squeal and clawed at him ineffectually. Her nails took skin and blood, but he’d healed before she could even finish the first swipe downward. Against her lips, Klaus smirked.

He reached down between their writhing bodies, yanking her panties with that formidable tearing sound.

Caroline broke free of his kiss, exclaiming, “Seriously?

“I owe you new ones, sweetheart,” he promised, his eyes boring into hers with the intensity of a hurricane. Then, appraising the rest of her as much as he could from atop her, he added, “In black.”

Before she could answer, Klaus spread her legs on either side of him and slipped three fingers into her. Caroline let out a desperate moan, unable to keep from rocking against his hand.

Despite herself, she complained, “Black makes me look so sallow.”

Klaus chuckled. He began to move his fingers, pressing until he found the spot to make her cry out in bliss. He then began a tempo to drown out all Caroline’s other protests, tapping into the deep-set pleasure that would make any woman weak at the knees.

Though he’d turned the tables against her, Caroline fell into that desire to be taken. She rocked against his fingers, aiding his attempts to pleasure her until her cries echoed throughout their secret dungeon.

His eyes alight with desire, Klaus dipped his head down. Before Caroline could comprehend what he was doing, he snagged her bra with his teeth and tore that off as well.

“Oh, come on,” she moaned, both at the rhythm of his fingers and what he’d just done.

“At least you have pants to go home in,” he reminded her darkly.

Caroline grabbed a handful of his thick hair in response. She tugged.

Klaus ducked down, admiring her breasts with the rough ruggedness of his stubble. Squirming beneath him, Caroline tried to reach for his cock again. But he held all the cards now; from her position, she couldn’t hope to reach him.

He seemed to realize this, as he pinned her again, this time by the arm. He then took one of her nipples in his mouth, grazing the nub with his teeth. Caroline cried out and writhed against him.

Heat flowed through her and centered toward her lower belly, building an impossible pressure she prayed would burst.

Klaus did not disappoint her. He had just released her nipple when she came in a gush of sweet-smelling fluid. In that moment he actually paused, focusing intensely upon her as she rode out the orgasm.

Caroline could barely catch her breath before he released her and darted down. His tongue began lapping at her, and Caroline couldn’t help but express frustration with her pleasure. She hadn’t said he could do that, she’d said maybe. . . .

And then that frustration was swept away when he rubbed her slickened clit with the tip of his tongue. The burst of pleasure brought Caroline’s focus to one selfish desire. She gave up fighting, instead using her hands to push him down.

Klaus eagerly complied, burying his face into the wicked warmth between her thighs. His groans matched hers as he continued to please her. Within minutes Caroline’s next orgasm followed her first—and then the wave just didn’t stop, the immense bliss blurring together into one long, quaking flow of pleasure.

When at last he finished, Klaus didn’t even give her a chance to catch her breath before he kissed her again. Caroline moaned into his mouth, enjoying the dirty thrill of tasting herself on him.

Never breaking the kiss, Klaus urged her legs up. Not one to simply comply, Caroline wrapped her legs around him. She dug her nails into his shoulders, tightening the muscles in her legs until his cock was fully inside her.

Klaus was the one to tear free, his eyes a frightening mixture of focused and distant. “Caroline,” he groaned.

A shiver traveled up her spine as the break gave her moments to appreciate how much he filled her. Already the tip of his cock was beginning to press into that sensitive place within her, and she knew the carpet beneath them would soon be ruined. Again.

She placed a hand on his face, guiding him to look her in the eye. Raw emotion spilled from him, and he seemed to tremble with the self-inflicted agony of holding back.

“Fuck me already,” she whispered.

Klaus’s eyes darkened and he didn’t hesitate to obey. Immediately he began thrusting, and soon even Caroline’s sharp cries couldn’t mask the sounds of her arousal drenching his cock. She raked her nails down his back repeatedly until her hands soaked with his blood.

And still Klaus didn’t stop. He continued to thrust, watching her expressions with fierce, loyal intensity that only heightened Caroline’s incredible lust. One of his hands pushed hair back from her face, cradling her cheek with gentleness that contrasted his fierce thrusts.

Winded, yet with no signs of slowing, Klaus growled, “Come for me, love.”

His order sent her over the edge, and Caroline complied with abandon. Fireflies swam in her vision for a fraction of a second, and her contractions only made Klaus feel that much larger and fuller within her.

“Klaus, don’t stop,” she whimpered.

To her dismay, he did—but only for a minute. Klaus pulled away, urged her over and onto her knees. With just that change of position, his natural affinity for inflicting pain and discomfort took over. He shoved Caroline’s head down to the carpet, allowing her to turn her face so she could breathe.

To others the act might have seemed degrading—and it was. But it sent thrills through Caroline, and already she ached to have him again.

Her lover only paused to position himself before entering her again. Caroline felt her breath explode out. He pressed down on her a bit harder, making breathing a touch more difficult. This time his furious thrusts caused her to moan and cry out without pause, matching wave after wave of desire that coursed through her. Her body heated, and his cock seemed to swell within her.

Only when Klaus grabbed her hair and pulled did he seem to find his edge and release. He came within her, refusing to stop his searing thrusts until both his and her orgasms rode out completely.

Within seconds he released her—as per their agreement. Once they had both had their fill, the time for roughness was over.

Caroline rolled onto her back, her chest heaving. A quick glance to her left told Klaus’s story of exhaustion and smug bliss. She rolled her eyes, yet couldn’t help the smile that tugged her lips.

Klaus caught her expression, and matched her smirk. “Fantastic work, as always,” he complimented.

“Way to make it sound like a day job,” she muttered.

Klaus snorted. “My apologies, then.”

Silence dwelled between the two. Then, just as Caroline was about to hunt for her intact clothing, Klaus startled her.

“I realize it’s against the rules, but I would like you to rest with me a while still,” he said quietly.

Caroline blinked at him, perplexed by his request. It was, in fact, against the agreement. Cuddling or spending the night in any capacity would only foster emotion, and she had been strict on that rule from the get-go.

Yet she somehow had no qualms saying, “I guess one time can’t hurt.”

Like the mature woman she was, Caroline chose not to comment on Klaus’s satisfied grin.


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 11th, 2014 05:36 am (UTC)
I've read quite a lot of Klaroline smut and only so many leave such a lasting impression. Per the Rules is definitely on that short list of mine. Incredibly written like a professional.
Thank you for sharing.
Nov. 23rd, 2014 11:02 pm (UTC)
This was so steamy and erotic. Klaus and Caroline have positively wonderful chemistry together. Thanks for sharing.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )