Thread: Comeuppance

Clocks were not permitted in his bedroom, nor was sunlight, not unless he decided to pull open the blinds to invite it in. At night, and in general, Tony had a long set of vertically dark blinds that stretched across a grand bay window that he kept closed, not wanting the outside force to rouse him early from his sleep, or in some cases inspire a premature end to his late-night shenanigans. Clocks were discouraged for that very same reason. Anywhere else in the mansion, sure. In his bedroom, though, Tony was a man for whom the world waited - he did not get up until he was ready. It just so happened he was ready three hours ago. Ah, the crack of noon. But Pepper was late in her arrival, and considerably so. The brilliant billionaire found himself laying there in bed for the next several hours with his wrists held apart, cuffed to bedposts on either side of the headboard, and his mouth fitted with a rather uncomfortable gag. Worse than that, he still hadn't quite mastered working a remote with his feet. Tony spent a good part of those three hours twisting awkwardly while trying to retrieve the device from the nightstand beside his bed. Twenty minutes in, on his third attempt, he ended up knocking the remote to the floor, which in turn condemned him to then laying in bed for the foreseeable future, utterly bored. ...Well, there was still last night to recall and to relish, what of it he could remember at least. It'd been awhile since he'd had triplets. Good lord, did that one with the pigtails - Thing 3, he'd named her - give good head. Ah, fher yu ah, he remarked when the bedroom door did indeed finally open. Tony smirked. Inwardly, he noted it'd been at least three months now since she'd last caught him in a predicament like t- Tony blinked. Whh heroh, came his voice from around the gag, the device causing his jaw to positively ache in its numbness at this point. This was...different. He wasn't used to seeing his assistant in anything less than professional attire. The pantless look suited her well - maybe they could make that change officially - though he would have probably put her in something more velvety and purple. Purple would be a good color for her, Tony mused, watching her drink from the glass and discard it, ice and all, onto the carpet. A cigar too? Was that one of his Cubans? And that shirt was his, too, wasn't it? Curiosity abounds. What was that? Oh, right. She was talking. And straddling his thighs now, which, combined with the pantlessness, made for an interesting development between them. Lord, women complained. Tony was not some horrible person. They'd loved, nay reveled in joining the club that was the great Mr.Stark's list of conquests. He heard what Ms.Potts was saying, but a lot of her point was lost by the proximity of her lacy panty-covered crotch to his own, and the slight curvature that peeked out the top ofher shirt. Well, his shirt. Would she take it off if he asked for it back? Tony's mouth stretched awkwardly once the gag was removed. He closed it, opened it, closed it again, then cleared his throat and allowed some saliva to flow again before opening it a third time, likely to spurt out some clever remark - only to be slapped, turning his head with the sharp strike. He listened to her words, and how her voice was firm, yet tinged with both a terrified and brave feel to it at the same time. He felt the slow roll of her hips, feeling for the first time his lovely assistant's crotch grinding down against him. Tony's head remained to the side. He remained quiet for a few, long seconds, letting her slowly gyrate, letting her experience this surprising desire to seize control. Then, in true Tony Stark fashion, his face turned back to her with the simplest of smiles, his body shifting a bit to become comfortable beneath her, Why, Ms.Potts...if you'd wanted a raise , all you ever had to do was ask.