Sweet Damnation (Richonne Lemon One-Shots)

Mistress Michonne

A/N: A/U – Rick/Michonne is OOC – Based on some candid conversations I've been having on Tumblr. Rated XXX - lemons all over the place, Dom/Sub-themes - you've been warned!

Last Thursday Night...

Rick Grimes smiled as he sat in his chair. It was a small black leather stool in the middle of an almost empty room, the only other pieces of furniture were a leather-covered bench, which was bolted to the floor around a foot from the wall, and a king-size four-poster bed. Like every week, he came to this apartment in a car no-one knew he owned, stripped down to his underwear, and sat waiting for her. The click of the lock signified her arrival. Rick bowed his head and clasped his hands before him as he heard the stiletto heels clicking across the tiles of the hallway.

"Good evening Rick, I see you're ready for me."

"Yes, Mistress Michonne."

Michonne Alexander gazed proudly at her client. When he first came to her, he was a mess of nerves, unsure of whether he was actually in need of her specialty. It was obvious in his actions that he had long since come to terms with the fact that he needed her, he wanted her. They had been 'seeing' each other for over a year but had never gone further than a brief sexually charged physical contact – more than that wasn't Michonne's usual way of doing things; men came to her because they wanted to give up their control. It would be a complete lie for her to say she wasn't attracted to Rick; he was very handsome and incredibly toned ... everywhere. Over the last couple of months, it had taken a great amount of restraint not to throw him down and fuck his brains out.

"What would you like to do tonight Rick?"

"Whatever your heart desires Mistress Michonne."

"Good answer." Michonne chuckled and hung her jacket up on the coat hook behind the door. "Have you been a good boy this week Rick?"

Rick inhaled sharply, hesitating before answering. "Yes, Mistress."

"Tell the truth now Rick! You know what happens if you tell me lies, even little ones."

Rick sucked a breath through his teeth and closed his eyes. "I wore black boxers on Tuesday."

"Tsk tsk, Rick! What did I tell you last Thursday?"

"You told me only to wear blue underwear until I saw you again."

"And what was the reason for this lapse in following my instructions?"

"It was wash day; it won't happen again, Mistress."

"I suppose that reason is acceptable, but in the future please bear my instructions in mind and plan your chores accordingly."

"Of course, Mistress."

Michonne nodded; it had only taken a few sessions to drill the importance of these little instructions into Rick's head. "You may look at me."

Rick raised his head to look at his Mistress, from head to toe, he liked what he saw. She was wearing her patent black, knee-high stiletto boots; those were his favorite. She had partnered them with a slim fitting black pencil skirt and tight red halter top. She could have been going to an office party as far as her outfit was concerned and that was the way Rick liked it.

Michonne knew her client had no interest in seeing a leather-clad, whip bearing, dealer of pain, he simply wanted to have someone tell him what to do for a while every week. Rick looked upon the woman who had been the star of his fantasies for the last year; the first time he laid eyes on his Mistress he lusted after her, much more than he ever had for his wife.