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inlovewithgreta · 6 days

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Fencing Master - Joan Ferguson x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summary: Your fencing lesson takes a surprising but welcoming turn.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Dom!Joan, Sub!Reader, degradation, age gap, praise, glove kink, semi-public sex, squirting, swearing, slight size kink?

Word Count: 2.3k

Taglist: @shslbunnylover

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Ugh- Fuck!" you groaned, letting your sword fall dramatically to the ground in defeat. "This is such bullshit," you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You're weak," a lowered crisp voice responded, long dark locks of black and grey stray hairs falling from your fencing partner's messy braid as she took her protective helmet off to scold you. "You're not shifting your weight properly, and your arms are like noodles." She grabbed your limp arm to prove her point.

"I'm doing what you taught me!" You tore your own helmet off, letting your gaze meet the darkened eyes of the woman in front of you.

"Not good enough. You're better than this," she stated. "Let's go again." She demanded, putting her helmet back on, and gripping her fencing sabre tightly with her dark, leather gloves.

Your eyes fell to her hand after hearing her leather grip, before letting out a deep breath and fixing your own helmet back onto your head. It was hard to ignore the beads of sweat along your forehead, after all, the two of you have been at this for hours.

After the sparring began again, you were quicker on your feet, planning your movements before attacking. But Joan was quicker. More advanced. More thought-through. She knew what you were doing before you even did it. Joan knew how you worked, how your brain thought.

She quickly picked up on it, and as soon as she felt your confidence grow, letting you think you were going to win, your movements becoming almost too predictable, she lunged at you. Her movements caught you off guard and you tripped over your own foot. Joan was quick to catch your hand but wasn't quick enough and was pulled down with you, both of you falling with synchronized grunts.

"What the fuck was that?" You huffed, tearing your mask off once again and tossing it beside you, too shocked by your fall to realize Joan had fallen on top of you.

"It's sad, really. How I know your every thought. Every move. It's pathetic. I thought I trained you better than this. To lead with your body, not with your mind. Your body knows best." Her own mask flew elsewhere, gloved hands sitting just beside your head as she talked down to you.

"Maybe I just need a better teacher," you seethed, gritting your teeth and letting out a much needed sigh.

"Or maybe you just need another lesson," she sternly stated, using a hand to undo the velcro holding her top together to allow herself breathe easier.

Joan caught the glimpse you stole from her neck to her chest that were coated in small beads of sweat, and took it upon herself to test the waters even more. After all, she did know you better than you even knew yourself.

"You must learn to control your body. Control your thoughts." A gloved hand slipped to your neck, the cold, leathery feel sending a chill down your spine and your body to shiver under her touch that didn't go unnoticed. "Do you think I haven't caught onto you? Your not-so-subtle glances in my direction. That pathetic little doe-eyed look you give me when I praise you. The hunger in your eyes when I degrade you. It's quite obvious what direction your mind goes in." Her knee slid between your inner thighs, forcing a quiet moan from you. "You're liking this, aren't you, little one?"

Your breathing was shaky as you laid in awe, hyper fixating on the leathery material wrapped around your neck and the knee that pressed roughly against your core. When you didn't respond, Joan squeezed her hand on your throat tighter.

"Answer me," she demanded. Lips hovered just mere inches above your own, and the smell of her musky perfume mixed with the leathery gloves were driving you mad.

"Y-yes, Miss Ferguson," you whimpered. Innocent eyes gazed at her with longing, and a dark, seductive undertone that the older woman was craving from you.

"Joan," she said. "You may call me Joan, but only when we are like this. Around others I am still your teacher, your superior. Got it?" She lifted a brow.

"Yes, Miss— Joan," you corrected yourself.

"Good girl. Now are you ready for your next lesson?" A smirk toyed at her tight lips at how easy this all was. You were always her best student. So quick to learn, so eager to do better, so... hungry for her validation, and Joan just wanted nothing more than to feed you it.

Her best student. Her neediest student. Pinned beneath her with a flushed face. Hair sprawled beautifully out around your head. Those lips parted, inviting her in. And those eyes. Fuck... Looking up at her through those curled wispy lashes. How someone like you could be so pure yet so filthy all at the same time. How someone half her age could possibly find her attractive, but she wasn't about to complain.

"Mhm," you nodded your head. "I'm ready for you to teach me about..?" you trailed off, with puppy dog eyes, expecting her to finish your sentence for you.

"Don't be stupid." You squirmed at her words, Joan's hand leaving your neck to unzip and rid you of your protective fencing top, with the help of you lifting your body to slide it off with ease. "You know exactly what I'm going to teach you, don't you? Or do I need to stop what I'm doing and teach you a lesson about listening first?" She gave a faux pout, retracting her hands all-together.

"No- please, Joan!" You instinctively grabbed her leather covered hand, and returned it to your neck, where it had since grown cold from her missing touch. Your expected urgency to keep her going forced a small chuckle from the older woman. "Teach me about control. P-Please. Help me control my body. I need it. I need you, Joan. Please teach me." Your hips bucked with desire, needing her knee to push your button harder.

"You're pathetic, dear." She admitted with a lick to her lips that your eyes followed. "But that's a lesson for another day." Her mouth crashed into yours, leaving you breathless. Her kisses were passionate. Hungry. Demanding. Tongue completely dominating your own, completely expected on both of your ends.

One of your hands grabbed roughly at her top, pulling her unimaginable closer while the other went to her hair. More specifically, her braid. Fingers wrapped around the messy strands and pulled, earning the most subtle moan from the woman.

As much as she liked it, you weren't the one in charge. This was a lesson. And you needed to be taught. She couldn't lose control. Not now. Not today.

She grabbed your wrist tightly, pulling away from her hair but still allowing you to touch her, leaving your hand atop her own that stayed holding onto your throat. This moment was about you, not her.

After repositioning herself to a straddling position, the loss of her knee against your core cause a whimper to escape, missing her touching your needy center.

"So disappointing..." she said with a frown, allowing you both to catch some much needed air. "Can't even reposition myself to better aid your lesson without you whining like a needy little slut." Her hand strained against the leather glove on your neck, wanting to squeeze tighter but having to refrain herself in fear of pushing you too far too fast.

"I'm sorry—" you were cut off by a finger pressed to your lips. "Don't you dare apologize. You do not apologize for that. You own it. Own up to what you are. Let me hear you say it. Say what you are." Her dark eyes gazed at you expectedly, awaiting a response. The correct response.

"I-I'm a needy little slut," you let out a shaky breath, finding it hard to read your fencing master's expression after your admission. Those words, however, helped the damp patch between her legs grow even more. She could get off on those words alone.

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it? Hmm?" She planted a rewarding kiss to your plump lips as her hand trailed down to your pants. You mumbled a 'no' as velcro was undone, zipper went down, and your hips lifted as you shimmied out of your fencing uniform entirely. All that covered you was a thinly cropped white tank top, and a pair of fitted shorts that just barely covered your ass.

Joan held back a groan at your tinier figure. She was much bigger than you. Much stronger. Much more dominating. The idea of her much thicker, longer fingers, filling you had her heart thudding rapidly in her chest with anticipation. She couldn't wait to see how many fingers you could take. And you were thrilled to find out for yourself.

"Joan..." you faintly whispered the older woman's name as her lips made their way to your neck. "Need you.. so bad..please! I've been doing so good for you. So—so good," you begged her as she left marks along your neckline, soothing her bites with a gentle tongue.

Feeling generous to your pleas, Joan allowed a single hand to roam down the center of your chest, purposely ignoring your breasts as she ran her hand lower. The ticklish spot just below your navel etched into her memory when you let out a very audible hum and your belly twitched beneath her wandering fingers.

"Will you continue to be good for me?" she asked, allowing her hand to skim beneath your waistband but stopping purposely just before reaching your center.

"God- yes, Joan! I'll be so good. Such a good girl for you, just fuck me. I'm begging you. I need you." Her mouth returned to yours, hovering just close enough to your lips.

"I don't hear a please..." she tutted, fingers just barely grazing your clit.

"Please—" words were cut short when you let out your first sinful moan at her fingers circling your precious bundle of nerves. Joan loved that noise coming from you, telling herself she would do whatever it took to keep you going.

Her leather-clad fingers worked wonders as she occasionally pressed harder against your button that forced your hips to grind against the dominating woman's hand.

"Oh, Joan! Just like that," your eyes fluttered shut but the ravenette ceased her fingers. "Keep those eyes open, my little whore. I want to see you."

Your eyes glistened as you reopened them, gaze fixating on Joan's dark, hooded eyes, all color completely gone at her dilated pupils. "That's my good girl. Such a good listener for me."

"Joan...I- I'm gonna...." Your body twitched as you felt your nearing release. The woman above you smirking before shoving two digits inside your pussy, that clenched around her.

"Not yet...Fuck, you're so tight.." she moaned at your restricted walls as she began fucking you with her fingers. The new sensation drove you wild. Her fingers were rather large, more slender, and more skilled than yours. "This little pussy belongs to me now, yes?" She asked, raising her usual eyebrow.

"Y-yes, of course!" You shook your head with a cry when her fingers dove deeper and skillfully rubbed the soft-spongy spot that had your pussy fluttering around her digits.

"Say it. I need you to say it," she pinched your hardened nipple between her thumb and pointer finger, eliciting a hearty moan from you. "Say it or you don't get to come." The pain mixed with pleasure fills you with euphoric madness.

"My pussy is yours...All yours, Joan! I p-promise it's only yours from now on..." You felt dirty at the own words coming out of your mouth but at the same time have never been more turned on.

"That's what I like to hear. You're mine now. Only I get to fuck and stretch this tight pussy of yours. Only me..." She forcefully took your lips with hers, pulling your bottom lip between her teeth before shoving her tongue in your mouth.

Your walls clenched unimaginably tighter, making it harder for Joan's fingers to fuck you but she was relentless, ensuring you would get the release you were craving.

"Come for me, woman. Let me feel you." She whispered against your lips, your loud moans being muffled by her ravenous mouth enclosing your own in a hungry kiss.

Her palm pushing against your clit was the last straw to have your body filling with immense heat as you fell over the edge. Your body shaking, breasts pushing into hers as your back arched from the ground, and fingers mindlessly digging into the back of her neck as you held her.

"Oh...oh fuck! Joan—" You cried out, wetness covered your inner thighs as you mindlessly squirted from the monstrous strokes coming from her leather coated fingers that didn't dare stop as you rode out your orgasm.

"That's it, let go...Come for me.." Her husky voice caused a guttural moan to fall past your lips. She went to go suck the flesh on your neck, but your fingers pulled at her hair, forcing her mouth to lavish yours once more. Needing her mouth on yours more than ever.

"Mmmph..." Your teeth clamping down onto the dominant woman's bottom lip forced a groan from the ravenette as your pussy clamped tightly around her digits that slowly removed themselves from you.

"Congratulations..." Joan smirked, tongue darting out to lick her now swollen bottom lip, tasting a familiar metallic liquid. It slightly stung from your harsh bite as you partially punctured her, but she found herself to be proud of what you've done. "You've passed your first lesson. It's remarkable what one can do if they just... listened.."

Your tired and hooded eyes couldn't help but roll at words, knowing she was completely right, but you didn't dare to admit it to her just yet.

After all, you still wanted another lesson.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general masterlist | taglist

#joan ferguson #wentworth #pamela rabe #fanfic #smut #lesbiansmut #wlw smut #oneshot #this took way too long #but i love it #I love dommy mommy joan

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