( He shouldn't even be doing this, it's against every protocol. He probably has an assistant handling his phone, anyway, network or not. But, Embry is here. And according to him, so is his brother. He's nothing if not respectful. )
( He does. He knows what you're both like. One more than the other, of course. He was professionally silent. No judgment. And no acknowledgment about how hot he thought everything was, anyway.
( he probably didn't bring up his proposition, either. what had he called riley? one of the president's playthings? he has self esteem or that might actually smart. instead, it just feels like a bullet right beneath the surface. pull out the slug, sew it up. easy.
he could reply with so much. does he think he fucks everyone? especially on the job?
does he care? (yes?) does he matter? none of these things matter, at least.
his throat goes dry as he tugs at his tightened pants.
so, he goes for an old standard. god he's a fucking softie. )
mr. president, your AG just called me a little cunt and implied your stroke game's mediocre just wanted to loop you in 💅 wasn't sure if you were still letting him speak in public with a mouth like that anyway, see you tonight. i'll be wearing the pearls you like xoxo — miss america
I know, honey. Then he has to fuck five people before we let him cum. If we let him cum. You know how whiny he gets when his balls aren't empty. It'll be cute. We can probably squeeze out an apology for you, while he's crying about it.
( gentle prying. being completely obsessed with embry means its fairly hard for him to have any privacy with ash, so he's aware, at least in a distant way, of his infatuation with anora. ash isn't sure if the opposite is true. he isn't sure he wants it to be, either. )
( ew — typed, deleted. not because her teeth have softened, but because her ass hasn't forgotten the sear of ash's handprint, the bruised knock of her hips on lacquered wood on each downswing. mercilessly efficient, same iron fist he rules the fucking oval office with.
embry moore is a pain in the ass. he isn't worth the literal pain in her ass. )
you wanna reward a bad dog for pissing on the floor??? baby this pussy is a privilege, not a punishment i'm not handin out a medal of honor to him for acting like a rabid little bitch
( he's considering, about it — anora's cunt is a privilege, that's not in question. it's that worrying boundary between spoiling and torture that embry walks, because every pain is a present, every hurt a homily. it's why it's so hard to teach that bad dog a lesson — he just loves to be disciplined. )
Humor me, then. I give you Embry to punish. How would you do it?
( it's not every day she's invited to the director's chair, full creative control. always her face on a screen, with someone else's words in her mouth — never her voice in a snapshot, script, set. the woman you pay not look at, not to hear. she sits with it — not hesitating, but luxuriating. sinking into each second of power, even if she's had to fuck her way into it. bled for it, bruised for it. it's embry's turn to pay the toll, the way silver-spoon men never have to. )
i'd walk him on a leash. the leash matches my heels. obviously he can carry my bag, hold my drink, kneel pretty, crawl to me then i'd have him lick the bottom of the same heels that walked all over his pathetic ego
and just when he thinks i forgive his sorry ass, i'll push him off and go ride someone taller, richer, and meaner than him (that's you) if he behaves? maybe i let him sniff the bed after
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@frank farmer
Mr. President.
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( what a happy surprise. )
How the hell are you?
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Good. Alive. And kicking. You're throwing a party?
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You coming?
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Until Ash got his hands on him. )
Sent him a picture and everything.
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( funny embry didn't bring it up. oh, well — it's just another thing to punish him for. )
Don't fuck anyone before I get my hands on you.
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he could reply with so much. does he think he fucks everyone? especially on the job?
does he care? (yes?) does he matter? none of these things matter, at least.
his throat goes dry as he tugs at his tightened pants.
so, he goes for an old standard. god he's a fucking softie. )
As you wish.
un: lark, cw: slurs
your AG just called me a little cunt and implied your stroke game's mediocre
just wanted to loop you in 💅
wasn't sure if you were still letting him speak in public with a mouth like that
anyway, see you tonight. i'll be wearing the pearls you like
xoxo
— miss america
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Let's see. Why don't you pick a number between one and five?
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you're the best at those
hmmmm
five. you know i like it big
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I know, honey.
Then he has to fuck five people before we let him cum. If we let him cum.
You know how whiny he gets when his balls aren't empty. It'll be cute. We can probably squeeze out an apology for you, while he's crying about it.
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so generous, mr. president ❤️❤️ you keep spoiling me
his balls must always be full
miserable little shit
so, you gonna pick who gets the honor (lol) of fucking him?
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Haven't decided.
Why? You want a turn?
( gentle prying. being completely obsessed with embry means its fairly hard for him to have any privacy with ash, so he's aware, at least in a distant way, of his infatuation with anora. ash isn't sure if the opposite is true. he isn't sure he wants it to be, either. )
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embry moore is a pain in the ass. he isn't worth the literal pain in her ass. )
you wanna reward a bad dog for pissing on the floor???
baby this pussy is a privilege, not a punishment
i'm not handin out a medal of honor to him for acting like a rabid little bitch
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Humor me, then.
I give you Embry to punish. How would you do it?
( ash, preemptively, unzips his pants. )
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i'd walk him on a leash. the leash matches my heels. obviously
he can carry my bag, hold my drink, kneel pretty, crawl to me
then i'd have him lick the bottom of the same heels that walked all over his pathetic ego
and just when he thinks i forgive his sorry ass, i'll push him off and go ride someone taller, richer, and meaner than him
(that's you)
if he behaves? maybe i let him sniff the bed after
un: jb.
forgotten me already?
[Just...ignore the fact he's the one who took the extended sabbatical in the first place.]