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Comeuppance (crazy)

As Day Fades

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Feb 7, 2009
(This is a roleplay based in the Iron Man world, and is likely to incorporate a number of extreme fetishes.)


Ah, triplets. God's gift to men with large... wallets.

So what? Not like it would bruise his ego any. And there was quite the ego there, of course, but Tony had known from the moment he met the trio of Swedish bikini models from the day before that there wasn't an ounce of intelligence in them. Perhaps combined, if only for the sake of motor skills. Ah, blondes. Blondes blondes blondes. If only their names had rhymed it would have been perfect. Thankfully they were the type that knew and respected his last name, and respected even more the many zeroes associated with it - their names didn't rhyme, no, but last night in bed they did. He could have called them anything and they'd have been the same buxom piles of giggles. Oh, to have that sort of fun on a daily basis...

Thankfully, he did.

And thankfully he had an excellent personal assistant who was always on top of 'addressing any and all undesireable issues' before he awoke mid-day, which always included waking and escorting out his lady friends from the night before.

It was these thoughts that swam around in Tony Stark's mind as he lay in bed still, king size and with sheets of orange silk. He was still in that hazy state between asleep and awake, when you were thinking, when you were aware that you were thinking, but the desire to join the world wasn't quite yet there. He smiled. Almost yawned, but Tony caught himself. That would end up waking him up more than he wanted, and right now was that warm, basking glow time. Triplets. Triplets that all gave good head, especially that one sister who went down on him in the limo back to his estate. Triplets with ice cream dripping down their rather generously sized breasts, which, of course he had to lick up for the sake of not creating a bigger mess than there already was. Triplets who had seemed as happy to explore each other as the night went on, and as the drinks went on, as they were to explore him.

Thank God he was Tony Stark.

And thank God he had such reliable help, he thought with a smirk, eyes still closed. Pepper had been great last night. Sure she made her usual sighs and eye rolls during the hummer in the limo, or at least Tony assumed, as that was her usual. He'd been busy with two other sisters to entertain, they not leaving him much opportunity to utter anything more toward his assistant than a drink request. And she'd played bartender the rest of the night too, even when the girls were giggling naked on his bed, showing Doctor Tony on the dolly where each wanted to be touched. And the ice cream. She'd been a doll heading out at three in the morning to buy rocky rhode ice cream for their fun. He'd have to give her a raise or something. Something nice. Maybe a cruise? He'd probably go with her, of course. She'd be bored without someone to tend to, naturally. Or too worried to enjoy herself.

Tony finally stretched with a tired smile, reaching to his ey-... hm? His hands had stopped moving. Peculiar. Tony stretched his back and opened his eyes on their own, a bit crusty as their corners were. He yawned but that felt weird as well. First thing first. The playboy cast a glance to his left wrist, trying to pull again. Stuck. Stuck because... becaaauussee... He blinked a few more times. Stuck because it was tied to the bedpost, a white silk rope held taut between the dark mahogany wood and his wrist. Kinky.

Shifting as he lay on his back, Tony looked to his other hand and tugged on that as well, to quite a similar result. Well, that only made sense. It'd have been silly if only one was tied. Inconvenient.

Looks like he and the girls had a bit more fun last night than he could initially recall.

"Phffhr," he spoke out, immediately blinking a few more times when the name of his assistant left his mouth. When the name of his assistant left his mouth, that is, only to be muffled quite considerably by a ball gag held firmly between his teeth. Oh boy. Inconvenient, indeed.

She'd be along soon enough though. And thankfully, were there a silver lining to his current predicament, she'd caught him doing much worse things than this.
 
“But where is Tony?” Ingrid – or maybe it was Agnes, or Elsa, Pepper didn’t care to try and tell them apart – asked for what must have been the fortieth time, even as Pepper was ushering them out the door. She wasn’t sure how many more times she could explain it without going insane. Still, she gave the girls a taut smile, though they might’ve noticed how her hands were balled into fists at her sides.

“There’s a car waiting to take you wherever you’d like to go for breakfast,” Pepper said, “courtesy of Mr. Stark, who expresses his thanks for a wonderful evening. He’s very busy at the moment and shouldn’t be disturbed.” She didn’t even know why she bothered making up excuses for him, but on the plus side, these girls were stupid enough to believe anything. However, they’d still been annoyingly hesitant to leave, as though Tony would come marching down the stairs and greet them warmly and tell them he’d ordered a romantic breakfast in. This simply was not the case. If they didn’t understand that, then they were even dumber than Pepper had initially thought, and that was saying something.

“May I escort you out?” Pepper offered with the same strained expression, as though it caused her real physical pain to smile at them. She didn’t wait for them to answer, just held the door open for them expectantly. Finally, they obeyed, and Pepper walked the three of them to the driveway, helped them into the car, and gave them a little jerky wave of her hand as the vehicle disappeared down the winding drive and through the privacy gates, its passengers never to be seen nor heard from again. This was a small comfort, but Pepper had learned to take even the tiniest victories.

Now. She had a few very important phone calls to make. You see, Pepper Potts was a patient woman… but she’d reached her breaking point today. Or rather, last night. For him to have the audacity to do that in the back of the limo while she was sitting no more than a few feet away from him, well, it was absolutely vile. And then she’d had to send bottle after bottle up to his room. Didn’t he understand that she had work to do, that her job was more than just facilitating his deviancy? Well, that was her job, sometimes, but still. Being woken up from her pleasant nap on the couch (finally, a little sleep, despite the laughter and moans and screams coming from upstairs, but no, she couldn’t even have that for very long) and made to go out to the store and pick up a carton of ice cream for them at three o’clock on the morning was the last straw. Tony clearly took her entirely for granted, but that wasn’t even the point. The point was… Tony. Just, Tony Stark, who was insufferably lascivious and indulgent. He could pick any woman out of a crowded party and have her, and then dispose of her just as easily; and while he slept through his hangover the next morning, his loyal assistant was left to grin and bear it and clean up his mess. Pepper was always the one the girls hated, the one they glared at and spoke down to as though she were personally responsible for Tony’s promiscuity and sexism. And it wasn’t even that, really. Pepper had been doing this for years. But for some reason, last night, and this morning, she’d decided that she was through with it. Tony’s careless womanizing had to stop. He needed to be taught that women were more than just play things that he could use for his pleasure and then send on their merry way without a care in the world for their feelings. Pepper was going to make sure he understand the full affect that the ‘Tony Stark treatment’ had on a person, because, well, today, Tony would be receiving it himself.

First, Pepper needed to correct a few scheduling conflicts. That was her job, first and foremost. She pulled out her phone and dialed. “Chet Holloway’s office, please. Thank you. Hello, Mr. Holloway, this is Pepper Potts.”

Holloway’s cheerful, booming voice filled her ear a moment later; he always sounded rather like everybody’s favorite, good-natured uncle who got drunk at Christmas parties and told the most hilarious stories. “Good morning! To what do I owe this pleasure? And please, call me Chet.”

“Chet, I apologize, but your meeting with Mr. Stark is going to have to be rescheduled. He’s not feeling very well.”

Holloway laughed, which was a good sign. “Ah, hung over, huh? Well that’s fine; a few things just came up for this afternoon anyway... When did you have in mind?”

Pepper gave a little laugh, but neither confirmed nor denied Tony’s hangover. “Mr. Stark would love to meet you for dinner tonight, his treat. How does Lattanzi, seven o’clock, sound?”

“That’d be wonderful! I hate those big formal meetings anyway, and Lattanzi, that’s a good place, they’ve got the best costolette di agnello,” Holloway replied amiably. “We’ll see you then. And I know nothing’s set in stone, yet, but we’ll bring the contracts anyway… Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, you know…”

“Yes, of course. Thank you again, Chet. We’ll talk to you then.” Pepper ended the call with the satisfied smirk, made a few quick stops upstairs, which included a change of clothes, and then returned downstairs to make reservations at the restaurant, an extra length of silk rope still swinging idly from her fingers. She was polite and professional as always. The Maitre d’ never would’ve guessed that she was standing there in her underwear, nor that she had just tied her boss to his own bed, gagged him, and intended to have her wicked way with him very shortly. Pepper made herself some coffee and toast, and sat in the kitchen for a while, reading the day’s paper and relishing in Tony’s suffering. He’d have to be awake by now, and waiting impatiently for her to come find him and help him, but not today. It was on Pepper’s whim that he was released from his bondage, and it wouldn’t be for a good while. Pepper finished her toast, lingered on her second cup of coffee, and finally, once she’d finished reading the paper, she cleaned up and went upstairs.

She knocked on the door twice, as she always did, before entering. However, Tony wouldn’t find her carrying a bottle of water and some aspirin for his headache, and he certainly would be surprised to see that today she had opted for a more…revealing look, as opposed to her usual skirt and blazer. She was wearing nothing but a pair of black lace boyshorts, a nearly see-through white wife beater tank, and a dark green silk robe, which stopped at about mid-thigh, and was tied only loosely.

“Good morning Tony.” Pepper smiled at him, but there was nothing remotely wholesome or kind about it. “Or should I say, good afternoon, since you’ve slept in past noon, like you always do.” There was a detectable edge to her voice, a little tremor, like the quake of a dam about to collapse under pressure. “Do you know what I’ve spent the morning doing? Cleaning up after you. Getting your dry cleaning. Picking out your clothes. Ordering your breakfast just the way you like it. You couldn’t even tie your shoes without me, and how do you repay me? Every morning I have to take care of your whores, I have to arrange things for them and see them out and explain to them why you don’t want to see them anymore. I’m sick of it. If you want to take me for granted, that’s fine, you always have, but I’m not doing this,” she gestured wildly around the room, “anymore. Because this is wrong. The endless parade of women… it’s got to stop.”

Pepper walked around the bed, then toward the wall, to the open bar that Tony had in his room, of all places. “You’re no better than the sluts you bring home, so I’m gonna treat you like one,” she explained. Just saying the words sent an exhilarating shock through her, like adrenalin. She poured herself a glass of scotch, and turned around, smiling slightly. “Is this how you like to do it?” she asked as she approached the bed again. “Get them drunk so they don’t know what they’re doing, so they can’t say no to you? Not that they’d want to, right, since you’re the great Tony Stark,” she snarled, throwing back the scotch and grimacing at the taste. She tossed the glass away carelessly, listening to it land on the carpet with a thud, as she climbed on the bed. “Or do you like to just get right to it?” Pepper yanked his legs apart and settled between them, her hands on her thighs, holding them apart, as though she were about to penetrate him. “I’m going to teach you how it feels to be used and then thrown away like you mean nothing,” she said, running her hands up his chest, and to his face, where she removed the ball gag. “No talking,” she said immediately, and if he didn’t obey, she wasn’t afraid to punish him. “I don’t care what you have to say. All your mouth is good for is licking pussy or sucking dick now.” Pepper moved again, this time to remove her panties, and then straddle his chest, shoving her cunt in his face. “Do it,” she ordered.
 
Forty minutes was an unusually long amount of time for Tony to wait for Pepper's first appearance of the day. Usually when he woke up still restrained from the night before, a happenstance that would occur every few months or so, and one that never quite lost its amusing charm, Pepper was there within ten to twenty minutes to let him free. This was due to her knowing to check on him anyway, to ritualistically wake him up if he hadn't awoke for the day already, and so any predicament Tony was in from the night before was always quickly resolved. And really, who didn't enjoy laying in their warm bed for another twenty minutes in the morning anyway, cuddling into the sheets and recalling the previous night's deviant fun like a freshly received badge of honor? Once he had ended up waiting close to thirty minutes, but he forgave Pepper for that. No one was perfect.

Forty minutes, though. How irresponsible. He'd have to make sure, Tony thought as he lay there, wrists still bound, mouth still gagged, tha-

The bedroom doors opened.

And in walked a rather leggy freckled redhead, the beauty of those pale Irish legs accentuated by how very bare they were. Tony's mind was quite instantly devoid of thought, and his eyes were quite instantly transfixed on... Pepper? Ms.Potts? He blinked a few times, closing his eyes hard before opening them again. At this point he was fully awake. At this point Tony was able to see fine, and amusingly enough, fine is what he saw.

"Whh lhfly uhnwhhr tht iff, Phffhr. Dhd hi hfi ih fhor yhoo?"

Oh, how difficult it was to speak with a gag in your mouth. His jaw was getting a little sore from it at this point. She seemed to have no problem talking for the both of them, though, and Tony listened. Well, sort of listened. She was chastizing his choice in women, his choice in fun, pretty much a wet blanket all around. What was that, something about sluts? Yeah, whatever Mom.

While she was talking he mostly just paid attention to Pepper's outfit, to her underwear, enjoying the view of her boyshorts from behind when she rose her hands, the short green robe raising slightly with them, giving him a slight glimpse of the black ruffles upon her backside. That was nice. And when she turned to him, downing the scotch, Tony's immediate thought was that she needed a cigar in the other hand and that would be pretty damn sexy. And when she crawled toward him on the bed? That was when he looked at her shirt, at the thin, almost see-through tank top, almost but not quite, and wondered what size her breasts were. A-cup? He could help her fix that. They did usually look nice on her, he supposed, but excess never hurt anyone.

It wasn't until she removed his gag and spoke, telling her boss in no uncertain terms that she was going to teach him what it was like to be used that... well, quite frankly, a dream was coming true.

But when she said something about he only being good for licking pussy, something he certainly had no issue with, provided the lady was clean and not overly used, then... sucking dick? ... ... Well, that was... That was unexpected. Odd. Maybe his assistant had a cold?

Tony's lips parted for some quick-witted, quirky reply, but it was at that precise moment that Pepper Potts was pulling off her black ruffled boyshorts, revealing to him for the first time a lovely, freshly shaven Irish vagina. And the arousal that had been building since she entered the room reached a very shameless peak, erect and excited, sticking prominently upward from the silk sheet of his bed.

Temporarily stricken speechless, the great Tony Stark simply took in the sight before him for a moment as his assistant took hold of his hair, pressing her crotch against his face. Oh, it was wonderful. His jaw was still a little sore from the gag, his wrists were still annoyingly bound after so long, but both were forgotten as his eyes closed shut and his tongue lapped at the folds of Pepper's tender, feminine lips. "Mmm...gorgeous," he murmured softly under his breath before kissing lightly upon her slit.
 
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