Daphne slowly paced around the bound redneck, bootheels clicking on the cement floor. The knots securing his wrists and ankles to the steel chair were already chafing his skin, and she admired her handiwork.
Daryl, one of the Alexandrians has called the guy. He looked positively morose, guilt marring the expression that had been so proud and intense when he'd punched Negan in the face.
She gently lifted the strap of the crossbow from her shoulder and set the weapon on the table by the door. She didn't miss the longing in his glance at it, and her lips curled into a smile.
"You know, before I had Dwight killed, I overheard him talking about a rugged redneck he and his wife mugged," Daphne said, cocking her head. "Described him as a squinty-eyed shaggy haired idiot with a motorcycle and a crossbow. Said he was a gullible moron that was quick to trust and even quicker to be overpowered." She slid forward into his lap, straddling him. "I'd bet my left tit that moron was you, wasn't it?"
When he didn't answer, she took a fistful of his dark locks, wrenching his head back. "You know, Regina doesn't need a lot of encouragement to start taking pieces off of Miss Pregola," she purred. "You should really answer me when I ask you a question."
"It was me," Daryl said, defiance in his husky drawl.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Daphne laughed. "That's a pretty pathetic claim to fame, getting outsmarted by those two."
"Please don't hurt Maggie," he rasped.
"Well that's up to you and your little community, Daryl." She let go of his hair to smooth it down in mock affection. "If you're an obedient little puppy, and your friends pay their dues, then nobody has to shack up with Lucille."
"Well, sweet fuckin' Maggie is in a much more precarious situation than you, bulldog," came a familiar voice from the doorway, and Daphne turned to smile at Negan. He leaned on the doorframe, picking a sliver of flesh from the barbed wire bat as if he were casually checking his fingernails. "She's got eight months or less to convince us not to crack her fuckin' head open as soon as that baby is born."
Daryl clenched his jaw, glaring daggers at his captor. Negan laughed, pushing off of the doorframe to stride forward. He leaned on his knees so he was at eye level.
He motioned between them with Lucille, raising an eyebrow. "You hitting on my fuckin' woman, bulldog?"
Daphne laughed, trying to ignore the heat twisting her chest at what he'd just called her.
Daryl winced and turned his face away from her.
"What, you're not into me?" Daphne pouted playfully. "I thought we were bonding." She ran a finger down his stubbled cheek, and he shrank away from her as far as his bound body would allow. "I'm just fucking with you, redneck. I can't even tell if you're sexy, you need a shower so bad." She pinched his nose and wiggled it playfully.
Negan stood up his his full height and offered his hand to her. She took it to gracefully dismount from their prisoner and he tucked her arm into his, leading her to the door regally.
"Welcome to the first fuckin' day of the rest of your miserable life, bulldog!" He bellowed as he kicked the door shut.
As soon as the latch clicked, Negan shoved Daphne against the cement wall by her throat. Her heart thudded in excitement at the blaze in his eyes, the strength in his arm. He wasn't squeezing hard, just enough to hold her there, but she knew the power that thrummed through him.
"You are a fuckin' bad girl." His voice was menacing and low, licking her spine with tongues of fire. "Rubbing that hot little body of yours all over the fuckin' enemy."
"What are you going to do about it, boss?" She breathed with a challenging stare, and he growled low in his throat.
"Oh, strawberry." He lowered his lips a hair's breadth from her ear. "I'm so glad you fuckin' asked."
Negan grabbed her by the hair and dragged her across the hallway, kicking open a door. Inside was a stainless steel grate with chains dangling from the ceiling. A moan escaped Daphne's lips as he secured her wrists in the hanging cuffs.
He ran his hands slowly down her arms and shoulders to rest on her hips, and pulled her flush against him. His cock was rock hard already, seeing his favourite lieutenant so helplessly horny and strung up like this.
She whimpered at the feel of his rod against her stomach, head falling back. He reached around and pulled the hair elastic from her braid, running his fingers through her matted locks.
"You're so fuckin' dirty from battle, strawberry," he purred, and leaned down to suck at her throat. She moaned her appreciation, and he grinned against her flesh, taking the thin fabric of her tank top and tearing it. "I'd better fuckin' clean you up a bit."
Daphne squirmed in desperate anticipation as he violently stripped her, literally ripping the garments from her body. He stepped back to admire her lithe form, stretched out and on display for him.
He smirked and reached out to pinch her nipple, earning a surprised squeak in return. She stood on the balls of her bare feet, legs pressed together, chest heaving.
She bit her lip to keep from begging him to fuck her.
Negan was in control of her body now.
He stalked to her left, and lifted a hose from a hook on the wall. She squeezed her thighs ever tighter, needing friction, needing something. He chuckled at her plight, moving behind her, tantalizingly slow.
She writhed in her bonds, tortured by not knowing where he was going to strike first.
When the hose went click and the spray of water hit the top of her head, Daphne shrieked. It was freezing cold, of course it was cold. This room in the cell block with chains and a grate was not built for a spa experience.
She twitched as her overly warm body tried to get used to the feeling of ice on her scalp, running down her neck, shoulders, the cleft of her ass.
He massaged the water into her hair, and then ran the nozzle down her back, grinning at her hiss of discomfort. He grabbed a fistful of her wet locks and jerked her head back, bringing the hose around to douse her already painfully hard nipples.
She seethed as they tightened even more, wriggling her torso back and forth to try to escape the freezing spray.
"Do you want me to stop, baby?" Negan asked, voice stern. She knew that tone now, that intimidatingly firm voice with an edge of warning. A warning to be honest, checking in with her to make sure it wasn't too much. "Did you learn your fuckin' lesson?"
Her pussy clenched at his words, and she knew that in these power plays, it was really her that held the upper hand. She allowed him to do this to her. She craved it. She pushed him on purpose to show him that it was okay, that she wanted him to take her and use her however he wanted.
"You're not a very good teacher," she whispered coyly, and he barked a challenging laugh.
He shook his head. "Shit, doll, you have a smart fuckin' mouth." He untangled his fingers from her hair, and reached around to part the delicate folds of her aching cunt. "Let's see how fuckin' tough you are." With that, he sprayed the hose directly on her clit.
The icy water hitting Daphne's sensitive bundle of nerves was painful enough to make her screech in a higher pitch than she'd ever thought her voice was capable of.
Negan bit down on her throat, sucking the wet flesh between his teeth she her body jerked against him. When her voice went raw, he threw the hose to the grate beneath them and slid a finger into her sore pussy.
"Is this what you fuckin' wanted baby?" he hissed into her ear, filling his free hand with her breast.
His warm palm against her frozen nipple was like heaven, and she arched into his hand as much as her range of movement would allow.
He pulled his fingers from her. "When you were straddling that fuckin' redneck you were gagging for my hands on you."
Daphne whimpered at the loss of contact, shivering and soaked and impossibly horny.
Negan stalked in front of her, sliding his fingers into her mouth. She closed her lips around his digits, sucking the taste of herself from them. Amber eyes locked on blue, and their gaze was electric as she ran her tongue along his knuckle.
"So fuckin' sexy," he whispered. He pulled his fingers from her lips with an audible pop and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. He hooked an arm under her thigh and hiked it up, effectively draping her knee over his strong bicep.
She keened at the stretch in her leg, the feeling of being so open to him, and her eyes slid closed. He teased her clit with the head of his cock, silk against silk.
"Please," Daphne whispered, twisting her wrists in their bonds.
"Please what, strawberry?" Negan growled, nipping at her ear.
"I need your cock," she moaned, tilting her head to offer her throat to him.
He ghosted his lips over her tender flesh, almost tickling. "How fuckin' bad do you need it?" He suckled at the hollow of her throat and then pulled back, jerking on her hair with his free hand to turn her hooded eyes towards him.
"I'll die without it, Negan," she breathed.
He thrust up into her in a sharp motion and they groaned together, the feel of finally joining overwhelming both of them. He devoured her mouth as he pistoned his hips, swallowing her mewls of pleasure.
An orgasm tore through her without any warning, and she tensed against him, pussy clenching tight around his thick rod. Euphoria rolled through her like a tidal wave and her head fell back, mouth open in a soundless scream.
Negan licked his fingers and drew them down the cleft of her ass as he continued to pump in and out of her. He circled the tight ring of muscle and a shiver wrenched it's way up her spine at the stimulation.
He pushed his middle finger inside her tight entrance right to the hilt and she came apart again, the feeling of being so utterly filled sending her crashing back over the edge.
Daphne panted with her release, tears leaking from her eyes from the force of the orgasm. She'd never been penetrated in two places at once, and it was deliciously overwhelming.
He sped up his thrusts, thigh muscles taut with the motion of hammering upwards into her. Their hearts slammed in unison, chains clinking overhead with the force of their lovemaking.
Negan drove deep inside one final time, feeling that sweet release as her walls clamped down on his cock like a satin vice.
He reached up to unsnap the cuffs before she went limp and potentially hurt her wrists. It was just in time, as her arms flopped onto his shoulders and she draped herself around him like a shawl.
He sank to the steel grate slowly, managing not to topple over even with his legs hobbled by his lower garments. His ass thankfully fell onto Daphne's discarded pants, and she hissed at the jostle of his softening cock still inside her.
She shifted her legs around his waist, her hair dripping all over his t-shirt as she nuzzled into his neck.
"A-fuckin'-plus on that lesson, Miss Strawberry," Negan drawled, tracing the tender skin of her back with his fingertips.
Daphne giggled lazily. "You taught it well, Professor."