Author: NA67

Fandom: Firefly

Pairing(s): Mal/Kaylee

Warnings: none

Spoilers: none

Summary: PWP. domme!Kaylee and a garter belt

Nominated Category:

"Dammit, Kaylee, I gotta get out there and cheat a fella at cards."

"Then what're you doin' still standin' up? 'Cause first I'm gonna check, then you better get your face up my skirt and get me off or I'm never lettin' you outta here."

She slid a practiced hand over Mal's thigh, searching for the taut ribbon and the tiny bump beneath it. "This ain't lookin' good, Mal," she said, her hands rough on his belt buckle, and wrenching his pants open. She was disappointed not to be thwarted: just as ordered, his cock sprang to her hand, because there was nothing beneath the trousers but a garter belt in simple, smooth white satin, tight enough for ridges of flesh to appear at each edge.

"Awww, I meant the black one, with the lace and the red ribbons all puckery?"

"Yeah, well, Kaylee, you never said..."

"What'd you call me?"

"Huh. Sorry. Mistress, you never said. And I am not lookin' forward to havin' them think that they're playin' cards with a fella got lingerie on..."

"Yeah," she said. "You give'em some reason to check, and next thing you know you'd be face-down in the poker chips with them tight pants down 'round your boots and they'd all be lined up to use you like the whore you are..."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Kaylee," he said thickly. "Lady..." He moved a hand to close his pants but she hadn't said he could, so he dropped to his knees and stifled his groan, licking and sucking, his hands digging into her ass so he could pull her closer.

"Okay," she said, a little raggedly, when she'd been up and down the roller coaster a time or two. She looked down at him, her eyes burning at the vee where his pants gaped open, framing a spill of curls and ripe-to-bursting prick. "Touch yourself, Mal," she said. He closed his eyes and moaned at every stroke, just a few thrusts away from the sweet fire, when she said, "Now stop."

"Oh, God, Kaylee, I gotta..."

"Guess you don't," she said icily. "Or do you need to be taught a lesson right here and now?"

"Sorry," he said humbly, and somehow got everything tucked away and fastened tight and somehow got to his feet and stopped looking like he'd scare the horses.

"Handkerchief," she said. He handed her his bandanna, and she spit on it and cleaned up his glassy lips. She kissed his forehead. "Good luck!" she said. "Now, what're you supposed to remember?"

"Breathe through my eyelids," he said, tucking the bandanna back in his pocket.