A/N: This is the first time I'm writting Het smut to be honest and I hope it's not too bad? I might continue this, as this story has a background. Please review and let me know what you think!

Arthur laid on the cold floor of the bathroom, completely naked. His wrists were handcuffed behind himself and locked against the tub so he couldn't escape. Dried blood covered his neck and chest and he was waiting anxiously for his 'master'.

She entered the room, wearing a black corset tight on her body and lacey cheekies which revealed her milky, perfect skin. Her blond hair was tied in a bun above her head and she holding a whip in her hand. Not even a crop, that bitch. She smirked as she advanced towards the man, heels ticking on the tiles with each step.

"Well, well, well… Arthur, do you know why you're here?" s he asked in that thick, elegant French accent she possessed. Arthur merely scowled in disgust but he lowered his head.

"Because I tried to run." he admitted in a small tone. The whip was suddenly struck against his shoulder, making him jolt in pain. "Ah!"

"Louder." she barked, gritting her teeth. "Will you do it again?"

"No." he answered in a normal tone, eyes wide with anticipating fear. He was struck again, the whip leaving a burning like sensation on his skin.

"No, my…?" Once again, she struck the whip against his skin, leaving deep red marks.

"No, my mistress!" Arthur finally shouted, groaning softly at how weak he was. He hasn't eaten properly in weeks, so it was obviously he would be weakened.

"Bien. But next time, in French." she said, though did not punish the Englishman again. Instead, she placed her foot on his head and pushed his body down so he was face to face with her polished black stilettos.

"Lick them clean, pet." she ordered, icy blue eyes piercing through him. Arthur hesitated for a moment before beginning to run his tongue over the leather, scowling in disgust at the taste. Well, now that he thought about it, he shouldn't have expected a better taste.

He knew she was watching. She was probably rubbing herself right now too, that whore. Arthur dared to look up and his assumptions were real. She was gently squeezing her own breast, which she pulled out of the corset, sighing softly. When she caught him looking, she kicked him in the face with the front of the shoe, making the Englishman groan and move his head away in pain. It was miracle he wasn't bleeding yet.

"Gentlemen don't pry. Now get up and worship your mistress properly." She demanded, waiting for Arthur to raise his head. He couldn't move because of the bounds against his wrists so she simply pulled aside a chair, which she had beside the sink, and sat on it. She gripped onto the rough messy hair of the other and pulled him in between her legs, smirk wide onto her red lips.

"What are you waiting for? Worship me and my body."

Arthur simply stared at the outline of her black panties, the front transparent enough to show an image he would enjoy under more pleasing circumstance. He didn't want to do this. Not now. He was scared and wanted to leave, to escape, but knew he would only fail and get punished harder.

So, slowly, he leaned in and ran his tongue over her thighs, hearing the woman inhale sharply. Arthur bit her inner thigh gently before taking the smooth skin between his lips and gently sucking, a dark mark appearing once he pulled away. He knew she was sensitive there and by the soft pants he heard from above him, he knew she was growing needy.

Looking up, he gave her a questioning look as if asking for permission. His mistress grinned and gripped the edges of her cheekies with her long manicured nails, slowly tugging them down as to tease him. She placed the undergarment on top of Arthur's head, laughing at the sight before spreading her legs once again and offering him a rare sight.

"Go on. Don't be shy, pet. You want to make maman happy, don't you?" he purred, leaning back in the chair and slipping out of her corset a cigarette and a lighter. She put the cigarette between her lips and lit it, patiently waiting for the man to start doing his thing.

Arthur tried to block out all of his thoughts as he leaned in, the only thing in his mind at the moment being to please his mistress. He nuzzled the short blonde hair before sticking his tongue out, slowly running it over the width of her womanhood. She hummed in appreciation, exhaling the tobacco smoke slowly. Encouraged, Arthur began sucking on her labias, occasionally running his tongue over her clitoris which made her inhale sharply and curl her toes.

After a few minutes of just doing this, he stuck his tongue inside and pushed it in and out, hearing a moan slip past her lips along with a cloud of smoke. She held the cigarette above the sink, letting the ash fall into it before taking a deep drag and finishing the cigarette, throwing the bud onto the ground. By now, Arthur moved back to her clitoris, sucking the erect nub eagerly.

"Oooh, babe, just like that. Ah.." she moaned, gripping his hair tightly and pulling him closer. She shivered every time his tongue grazed her outer lips, already feeling a building pressure in her stomach. She bit her bottom lip, legs spreading wider and Arthur did his best to keep pace with her and bring her to climax. A loud moan ripped from her throat and her toes curled as she couldn't keep it in anymore, allowing herself to finish. She sighed in satisfaction and slumped into the chair, letting go of his hair and breathing heavily.

Arthur slowly pulled away, licking his lips and smiling at her. Hah, he loved it when he was still in control. she could tie his whole body but even then he could bring her in such a state all because of him; and it made him feel powerful. It felt... like what they used to do when they were young and fools and time had a painful patience with them.

Slowly, she moved her head to glance at him with hazy eyes, lips parted and moist and Arthur felt his heart skip a beat. Damn, he simply wanted to kiss her but couldn't because of the damn handcuffs.

"What a good pet"