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English
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2017-01-02
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An Honest Man's Work

Summary:

Queenie goes sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. He decides to return the favor by sticking his cock where it doesn't belong.

Work Text:

“I told ya, honey, I didn’t see nothin’”

Of course, he already knew the dame was lying as his hand slid up the side of her face.  He gave her a smile tinted with sarcastic sympathy before a tsk and another tsk.  Rubbing her cheek just to make sure he’d strike true, he whispered that she wasn’t convincing.

With pleasure, he drew his hand back and slapped the rouge off her cheek.  She shrieked from the pain and he chuckled at her.  That’s why he never silenced them when he petrified them.  He enjoyed the screaming.

His gang had been a bit suspicious of pretty girls for the past few weeks.  They’d caught a brunette from the MACUSA trying to blend into one of their operations about a month ago.  Some hot little dish that held up her badge, introduced herself as Tina Goldstein, and singlehandedly arrested half of his men.

In fact, that little bitch’s heroics were the reason he was doing all his own dirty work for the time being and was around to catch this little blonde in a lie. Short-staffed wasn’t even close to the level of inconvenience his business suffered.  Magic folk didn’t make cocaine and losing all his No-maj contacts in one fell swoop had crippled him.  He’d been out for blood for weeks… but who’s fucking blood was he supposed to take?

He slapped her, again.  This time she didn’t cry out.  Just let her head turn with the impact and then straightened her gaze to meet his.  Oh, so the first scream had only been shock?

He rubbed at her cheek as it reddened.  Decided it wasn’t nearly as swollen as it could be.  He wondered how the diamonds and gold on his fingers would scar her pale skin if he punched her in the jaw, instead.  She tensed as if he’d spoken he threat out loud.

”You got a badge, sweetheart?” he asked as he patted down her body with one hand and gripped her jaw with the other.  Purposely holding her face tight enough to bruise.  His fingernails dug into her cheek and he resisted the urge to simply claw the woman’s face.  After all, she’d only gotten this far in life because she was fucking beautiful.  It would be so satisfying to destroy her strongest weapon.

She spat at him, her saliva scented with mint, sugar, and black tea.  He only raised his brows. “Look, it’s real cute that you wanna fight and struggle and make this hell on yourself.  I took your wand already.  I got you tied to a fucking wall.  Cooperate and I’ll kill ya, quickly.  Piss me off and I’ll make sure you get locked in some store room pumping out babies every nine months for me to sell, overseas.”

He didn’t miss the open shock on her face.  He slid his hand off her jaw and pushed it into her hair.  His calloused fingertips scraped against her hairpins as he ruined the perfect little halo of blonde curls she’d made for herself. “Yeah, that’s right, dollface.  When a man can’t make an honest living getting people high or getting people off they have to turn to the really despicable stuff. Can you imagine how much pretty little babies with their mommy’s bright, green eyes would go for?“

Her disgust was a bit of a turn-on for him.  Hell, even if he didn’t keep her long enough to sell a kid, maybe he could make up for that Goldstein bitch’s interference by setting this girl up with a few Johns.  There was no way she wouldn’t go for top dollar.  

Even his own men had been weak to the lure of a pretty lady.  Let a MACUSA agent with a skirt too short and hard nipples peaking through a mostly sheer dress catch them off guard.  So, he’d been vigilant.  Marched through his own bar every night for a month straight.  Waiting for whomever the goddamn MACUSA would send to clean out the rest of his business.

So, he’d spotted this blonde one the minute she walked in.  Rolled his eyes at how obvious she was.  Some housewife in a fitted dress.  Her eyebrows were too thick.  Her clothes too impeccably made.  Hell, she was even too sober.  Didn’t stumble in like some fuckdoll that wouldn’t remember in the morning. She looked like a goddess among desperate little flappers with their pencil brows and potato sacks on.  

When they shimmied, their plastered-down hair didn’t budge.  They all looked like they had headbands on over glossy helmets. Her blonde hair was curled and shaped in a more mature style.  Couldn’t the MACUSA slum it long enough to make convincing disguises for their little whore cops?

“I’m not finding a badge, beautiful,” he commented against her neck as he moved in closer to allow his roaming hand to grip along her back and buttocks. “What, you shove it up your cunt to keep me from finding it?  Do I gotta dig for it?”

He heard her suck in a breath.  Decided he liked the sounds she made and tugged at her hair.  When she gritted her teeth against crying out, he felt a flash of anger.  This bitch was really too proud.  He pulled out one of her hairpins and pressed it into her scalp until it was unbearable for her.

“Ah! Stop, please!”

Simple pleasures.  He let the hairpin fall to the floor.

Pulling completely away from her, he watched her limp body hang from his wall.  Like some taxidermied trophy.  Her hands were at her side, pressed flat against the wall and her shoulders hung forward.  One of her legs was bent, her foot glued to the wall.  The other leg hung down.  Her big toe barely touching the ground.

He leaned against his desk.  Picked up the cigarette that was still burning in his ashtray.  Took a long drag from it. Even just seeing her hanging there with her head down, shivering to fight the urge to cry.  It just did something to him.  This one wouldn’t be dead eyes and lifeless whimpers.  God, he could really get into a lady that wasn’t quite debauched enough to give up.

He wondered if she really was married and hadn’t worn the ring.  Did she pray her MACUSA partners would find her in time to get her back to her husband?

Standing, he put out his cigarette. Wand out, he moved her bent leg to the side.  The tight dressed rolled up her hips revealing the gartered stockings and panties underneath.  Everything was soft and cream colored like something for a widow’s second wedding night.  He liked the way everything about her seemed too pure to spoil.  Merlin, he wanted to try, though.

Hard, beneath his slacks, he used another spell to tilt her head up.  To attach it to the wall so she had no choice but to closer her eyes or watch him fondle the bulge beneath his slacks.  His suit jacket was already discarded over the back of his chair since she’d caught him in the middle of beating another damn.  One of the goddamn braindead flappers that was supposed to be bringing him money but only rattled off excuses.  Maybe a few crucios had slipped out when he wasn’t thinking.

He’d always had a fondness for more subtle cruelties, though.  He wanted this one to have a deep hurt that no spell other than obliviate had been made to heal.  Again, she whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut as if he’d told her his plans out loud.  He supposed the way his cock had twitched as he thought about fucking her into the wall she was pinned to was enough of an indication of his intentions.

He’d stalled enough and wasn’t at all slow about pressing his wand to her cheek and his free hand to the silk seat of her panties.  “Not a lot of swishin’ and flickin’ needed for an unforgivable, sweetheart.  So don’t tempt me.”

 A single tear slid from her eye and he smiled at it.  Licked it from her face despite how he hated the taste of powder.  He pressed hard against her clit, surprised at the size of it.  What was a dainty little fucktoy like her doing with a clit this hard.  He pulled back just enough to peer down at her still covered sex. Marveled at how wet she was and how obvious and erect her clit looked.  Thrilled, he reached into her underwear and grabbed the thing.  Pinching hard.

She cried out.  “Ah!  Please, don’t.”

He laughed in her ear.  His wand pressing hard into her cheek.  “Don’t do this, huh?”

He squeezed at the tiny shaft of her clit.  Found the tiny ball of nerves with his thumb and pulled forward, hard and merciless, he repeated the action.  Squeezing so she’d go numb before she felt pleasure.  He knew it hurt like hell by the way she sniffled and her voice came out in sobs.  The bud slid between his fingers as she cried out, again.

The sound of her starting to sniffle and beg him to stop made his cock twitch.  She told him it hurt.  Oh, sweet little blondie.  As if telling a man who was practically about to cream his own pants over her crying was going to stop because she’d found the words to beg him not to hurt her.

He’d wanted to tease her for a long time.  Rub his precum over her tits before forcing himself down her throat.  Scratch down her throat and face to leave bright red marks along porcelain skin.  Take her in both holes over and over until she was too exhausted to cry.

But the way she’d gone from so defiant to so incapable of handling what was, for him, a considerably light abuse had his cock throbbing for more.  He wanted to be inside of this gorgeous little doll.  Wanted to let her arms and legs go so to see if she’d try to fight, again.  Wanted to fill her up with his cum and toy with her sodden cunt to watch it spill out of her and onto his fingers.

Stepping away from her again, he dropped the petrification spell so she slumped onto his office floor.  It took a few moments for her to register that she was free and he undid his fly and pulled himself free of his underwear as she shot up from the ground and ran toward the door.  With his aching cock standing out of his pants, he dripped a steady stream of clear fluid onto the wood floor.  He let her reach the locked door before using a spell to snatch her backwards.  She slammed into his bookshelf before falling to the floor.  A few volumes landed on her, but after a moment of being dazed, she made another attempt to escape.  This time, throwing books at him that he flicked away with lazy spells as he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up.

The blonde tugged on his locked, office door and then banged on it while yelling help.  He smiled.  “It’s always worth a try, right?  You don’t want anybody on the other side of that door to know what I’m doing to you.  You’ll end up with an eager audience.  Maybe even a few more companions.”

Her inner thighs glistened.  The feeling must have been returning to her abused little clit.  The bruised swelling probably felt a lot better than she’d want to admit.

Again, he flicked her featherlight body across the room.  This time picking her up off the ground a few feet, levitating her struggling form there just to watch as she tried to swim against the air.  Against his magical hold.  Then, he dropped her.  She cried out as if he’d injured her.

Leaning against his desk, he flipped her onto her belly, sprawled her flat against the floor, picked her up by her ass and then slid her quickly over toward him.  Her beaded dress was losing jewels and sequins all over the place and the movement sounded like a bag of marbles spilling.

She begged, again, for him to stop.  He fell against her body, cock already gripped in his wand hand.  The wooden stick pressed against her belly as he guided himself into her cunt.  She wasn’t as tight as he’d imagined and it made him throb to imagine that she’d cum on his cock despite how much she feared him.  How much he hurt her.

He made sure she wouldn’t be able to get off of his cock, but allowed her some freedom to struggle.  With it, she pressed her hips down before he’d pull them back up.  Tried to crawl away.  She even reached underneath herself to try and pull his wand from him.  He used his free hand to hold her hip against him as he pulled himself out of her and trust back in.  Used the wand to shoot little stinging spells against her palm.

Braver than most, she ignored the burn of his curses and still tried to pull at it.  As her hips fell, again, he decided to just let her stay down.  He hooked his arms underneath her armpits and pulled her back against his chest.  His wand was still safely between his fingers as he pumped his hips harder against her.  The only spell holding her in place was on her hips.  Keeping the angle high enough for his cock to dig inside.

The slick friction of this MACUSA cunt wouldn’t let him fuck her long.  He considered using another spell to make sure this went on for hours and hours, but decided to, instead, keep her under his desk until another MACUSA bitch came knocking.  Would she scratch at his trouser legs if he forced her mouth onto his cock.  Used just enough of an imperious curse to make her suck and never bite.  How would she react if she had to stay there even as he softened.  Breathing in the smell of his sex through her nose.  Crying into his crotch until he was hard and ready to fuck her throat, again.

He announced his orgasm just to hear the usual bargaining.  They always asked him not to.  Always offered mouths and chests.  Always said some version of “anywhere but there.”  He loved it.

When the MACUSA finally found his little hidden club, he was fully dressed and on a boat to elsewhere.  The last of his supply and the handful of lackeys he’d managed to keep sitting around him cracking jokes and asking him about the blonde he’d taken to his office.  He only told them he’d been nice to her.  Wasn’t ever really the type to kiss and tell.

Queenie woke up to an empty office with her dress repaired and wand laying next to her head.  It felt nauseating to be grateful for this man’s leaving her wand behind.  After all, there would be no MACUSA rescue because she was no MACUSA agent.

Queenie had peeked into Tina’s mind after her sister had been severely reprimanded.  As usual, Tina acted on intuition instead of facts.  She’d performed a serious, though successful, mission on her own and with unrelated permission.  Queenie simply wanted to gather evidence to absolve Tina.  Overhear some thought that Tina could write into a report and justify foolhardy actions.

Queenie hadn’t planned to interfere.  Hadn’t planned to speak to anyone or call any attention to herself, at all.  She had a new set of worries, beyond the pain and bruises she didn’t quite know how to heal without a doctor.

At least the man had dark hair, like Jacob.  She didn’t know if made sense to even hope the child would come out looking mostly like her.