The first thing that Brooklyn noticed when she woke up, was the feeling of something being put around her neck. She opened her eyes, keeping herself still, until she relaxed.
"Steve?" She asked, her voice thick.

"I gave this to you, as a Christmas present." He admonished. "I don't see the reason for you returning it."

She reached up, feeling the pendant he had made for her. "I thought it would have made sense, if we were going to remain friends. It seemed a bit of an intimate gift, for friends."

He pulled the edge of her night gown down her shoulder, before pressing his lips against the skin. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he exhaled heavily, pulling her in tight to his body. She sighed happily as he enveloped her in his heat and scent. "I think friends could wear jewellery given as gifts."

"It was expensive." She hummed out, letting her eyes close, as she arched her head back against him.

He moved his lips up her shoulder, to her neck, then her jaw. "So were the watches. Did you want me to return those to you?"

"I looked all over New York for the one watch. The second one was a gift from the shop owner." She inhaled sharply as he nipped at her jaw. "I bough them for you. I wouldn't have a use for them."

"Same rules apply for my gifts." He sighed, running a hand up the center of her chest, until he wrapped a hand gently around her neck. "I had this necklace made for you. I wouldn't want any other woman wearing it."

She let out a breathy moan, feeling his hand around her neck again. She relaxed fully into his grasp, letting one of her hands reach behind her, frowning just a touch, as she felt his jeans. He hadn't been wearing jeans, when he had arrived...

"Where did you...?" She gasped, before he flexed his fingers, just enough to tighten.

"I went down, early. Went to the bakery, picked up some breakfast, and brought the boxes up from the SUV." He informed her, as he began to slowly move his lips up her jaw to her ear. "I did a bit of unpacking. I was putting the things back in the nightstand drawer, when I came across the necklace. That hurt my feelings, Babydoll."

She resisted the urge to let her eyes roll back in her head. "Steve..."

"Not to mention, it's very rude behaviour to return a gift, when someone has gone through such effort to have a necklace like that made." His voice took on the darker tone that made her press her thighs together, while her hands reached back to scratch at his jean covered thighs. "I had that necklace made, so that every male you come across knows who you belong to, Babydoll. That's my mark of ownership. And it pleases me to see you wear it."

Brooklyn sighed, relaxing into his grasp. "Does it?"

"Yes." He bit her ear gently, and she whimpered slightly. "It pleases me, very much, to know that when men look at you and see that, they know that you are mine. It pleases me to know that they see it, and look away, because they know what a man like me can do to them if they dare to try and touch what's mine."

Tilting her head, feeling the restriction of his hand, she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. "You forget, I don't want them to touch me."

"That doesn't matter to them." He sucked where he had bit, and she began smoothing her fingers up and down his thighs. "I see it, every time we go out. How they watch you. How they are so goddamned envious of you not even noticing anything but me. So when you go to that club, and let them look at you, that is why I get upset. You are tempting them to cross the line. And I don't think you know what it is you are doing to them, when you dance. You are showing them just how you would move, if they were ever lucky enough to be chosen to be taken into your bed. Something only I have ever been allowed to experience."

"Are you upset that I am showing them, or are you worried that they might find out?" She breathed, letting go of one of his thighs, to reach up and scratch her nails gently down his jaw. "Because you have to know I would never-"

"They would never get a chance to." He cut her off, slowly letting go of her neck, and beginning to pull away. "I would stop them, before they even got within breathing range of you."

Some women would no doubt be very concerned over the obvious statements of ownership, that Steve was making. They would be blinking in confusion, at the fact that someone who was viewed as being so polite and gentle, threatening violence on random strangers. There might be a discussion between those women and their friends about how this man was giving off 'vibes'. But what Brooklyn knew, and apparently none of the rest of the female population of New York, and maybe even the rest of the world, was that when Steve Rogers let his dark side out to play, nothing but good times were to be had. Maybe it was sick of her to say it, but to hear his declarations and threats made her feel safe. Wanted. Loved. He cared enough to want to leave her no avenue of escape. Not from him, and not from herself.

She would be the first to admit that maybe they both had their issues, but for right now, it was what they both needed. And as often as he pulled away to check in with her, even while they were in the midst of their dark play, she knew she had nothing to fear from him. If she ever indicated he was pushing too far, or he hurt her in some way, or even scared her, Steve would stop. Immediately.

He was just that type of man.

She rolled over, as he began to kneel on the bed. She tucked her knees up towards her chest, reaching down to pull her nightgown up, before sliding a hand between her own thighs, cupping her own pussy. The thrill of touching herself in front of him sent a shiver though her, similar to when hot skin was exposed to blinding cold. A flexing of her fingers allowed one to drag along her slit, the moisture already there slick and hot.

Steve raised an eyebrow at her. "Did I tell you that you could touch yourself?"

"No." She whispered, biting her lip, pausing her hand's movements.

Both his eyebrows chased each other towards his hairline. "No...what?"

Excitement heated her blood. She wanted to roll around on the bed, purring, because she knew what was about to happen. Keeping her smile at bay, she lowered her eyes, before replying, "No, Sir."

"Then why..." He reached down and pulled her wrist, pulling her hand from between her legs, "Was you hand down there?"

"I wanted to." She bit her lip harder, trying to keep from giggling. "It felt good."

"I still didn't say you could." He gave her a small glare. "That might be a few added swats, to the already considerable amount you have coming to you."

"When?" She climbed to her knees, reaching for him, wanting to feel him against her hands. The blazing arousal was sparking along her nerves. "When do I get a spanking?"

His hand dropped her wrist, and darted out to grab the back of her head, his fingers shunting through her hair to tighten his grip, causing her head to tilt in his grasp. "I've been thinking I should do it now. Get it over with, so when we go out to the Marino's today, you'll have settled down."

"Sounds like a plan." She grinned at him, still working closer to getting her hands on him. Steve noticed, apparently, because he grabbed one of her hands in his free one. "Steve..." She whined.

"Nope." he shook his head. "Nightgown off, Babydoll." He dropped her hand, letting go of her hair, shuffling back on the bed, putting distance between them. "I suggest you get to it quickly, before I have to tear it off you."

Her skin prickling with anticipation, she obeyed his command, reaching down and lifting the nightgown up over her body, tossing it to the side, while shaking her head to get the hair out of her face, before settling back on her heels, waiting for his next move. She watched as he levered his body up off the bed, to stand by it, before coming over to tower over her. Reaching out, he pushed the stray strands out of her face, gently tucking them behind her hair.

"You don't know how much I have missed you, Babydoll. How much I have missed this." He sighed, a soft curve to his lips. "It's not just the physical. It's the part of me, that only feels alive when I'm with you. When we are apart, it feels like its a deep throbbing wound. Like there is a part of me bleeding out, and I don't know how to triage it."

She whined in her throat. That was how she felt, every time he walked out the door. How she had felt every minute of every day they had been apart. Like she was going to bleed to death, without knowing the cause.

He stroked his fingers down her face, to her neck, before sliding one hand to the centre of her chest, pressing his palm there. "And it's all because you aren't there to keep my heart warm. To keep it from freezing again. You told me last night that you hadn't felt warm since you had left me? I don't feel warm unless I can feel the beat of your heart. Unless I can hear you breathing. Everything I am, everything I want to be, is because of you. I don't think you understand just how much you make me feel settled. I can handle anything this world throws at me, as long as I know you are mine."

His other hand slowly wrapped around her neck, adding pressure.

"But..." He pursed his lips as he sighed, looking down at her, while he slowly raised an eyebrow. "That still doesn't mean that I'm going to allow you to get away with your recent bad behaviour. Now, you have a choice, because I consider myself a very fair man. I can use my hand, as we have in the past. Although, considering how you still don't seem to be following the rules, I'm not sure any more about how effective it's been. Or, I can use my belt. Maybe that will help you remember. And since I am so fair, I will give you less with the belt. I don't want to make it impossible for you to sit, just... be uncomfortable, while you do it. As a reminder."

Bending, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"Choose, Babydoll. And make it quick, before I choose for you."

She took a deep breath, trying to relax the jittering of her nerves, under her skin. He was asking her to make a choice. A choice, in regards to her own punishment. He was asking her to take an active participation role, in her own spanking. This was new. This was different. Usually, Steve just bent her over the nearest piece of furniture, or even his own lap, and administered the swats. But this... This was asking her to not only choose what he utilized to deliver the spanking, but was informing her of the difference.

But she had to choose, first. And her curiosity was getting the better of her.

Papa always said it would be the death of her, if she wasn't careful.

"Belt." She whispered, opening her eyes fully to watch him. "Please, Sir. I choose the belt."

He rocked his jaw, before nodding. "Good girl. Stay. Don't move."

He let go of her neck, and turned to leave the room, and she bit her lip, a little confused. Usually, Steve went right to it, when they began this play, so the delay was odd.

He returned, shortly, coming back to stand over her, before he held out his hand. On the palm of his hand, was one of Juliana's bouncy balls. Bright pink in color, with glitter shot through the rubber, it rolled slightly as he offered it to her.

"If, at any point, you think it's too much, and you want to stop, drop the ball. I'll see it on the sheets, and stop. We can discuss everything, then. If you feel comfortable resuming afterwards, we can. But for right now, no matter what comes out of your mouth, as long as you hold onto that ball, I'm not stopping. Understand, Babydoll?" He asked, his voice deep and firm.

She swallowed, before nodding, reaching for the ball. But he pulled his hand away.

"Words, Brooklyn." He curled his fingers slightly, as if to remove the ball completely. "I need to hear the words from you."

"I understand, Sir." She started reaching for the ball again. "If I drop the ball, you stop, no matter what. Because nothing coming out of my mouth will make you stop."

He let her take the ball, nodding as he watched her wrap her hand around it, holding it tight. "That's my good Babydoll."

She wanted to preen, under his praise. Instead, she lowered her head slightly, holding the ball in her hand, with her arm slightly outstretched so he could see it.

"Turn around, and put your cheek on the bed. Hips up. Legs spread." He ordered, taking a step back, as he reached for his belt buckle. "And keep that ball where I can see it, Brooklyn."

"Yes, Sir." She turned around, following his instructions, shivering slightly as she felt the cool air of the bedroom hit the moisture coming from her pussy.

"See, there's a beautiful sight." He was removing his belt, if she heard right. The clink of the metal buckle, the slide of leather as he pulled it from the loops around his waist. The excitement inside her was growing. What was this going to feel like? It wasn't like she hadn't been hit, before. God knew, she had taken her fair share of beatings over the years. She more than enjoyed it when Steve used his hand. He had somehow mastered how hard to hit, and where, and she responded, more often than not. Did he know how to do the same with the belt? "So. Let's work it out, shall we? I need your help, doing the math, alright? So we know exactly how many strikes you are going to be getting. There's you going to the club, like you did. I think that's gonna be five. There's you dancing and taking your clothes off for strangers. That's gonna be another five. Not telling me about your father. Five more. Pulling a knife and holding it to my throat? I think five is fair. Where are we, Babydoll? How many so far?"

Taking a deep breath, she raised her head high enough off the bed to be heard. "Twenty, Sir."

"Huh." He reached out, stroking his hand along her bared backside. "You are gonna be really uncomfortable, today. Because you still have one more naughty thing you did, that you need a few smacks over. Can you tell me what it is?"

Frowning, she shook her head, then realized her mistake. Steve liked verbal answers when they played. Words had meaning and intent, he said. "No, Sir. I don't know what else I did."
"You sure, Babydoll?" He asked, before pinching her upper thigh. She jumped, but remained with her face pressed to the bed, making sure the hand holding the ball remained closed. "You don't want a moment to think about it? Even a little?"

She tried, she really did. She didn't know what else she might have done to upset him. He had even added the fact that she didn't inform him about her father, in there, so what was left?

"I can't.... No, Sir... I don't know..." She told him, before biting her lip.

"Oh, Babydoll." He sighed, pinching her thigh again. "I expected better from you. Shall I tell you what else you are getting a spanking over?"

"Yes, Sir. Please?"

Steve grabbed her by the hair at the back of her head, lifting it up, forcing her to arch her neck back, if she didn't want to lose the position she was in. He had put a knee on the bed, leaning over her. "You tried to end our relationship, without discussion. You packed up my things, and sent them to the Tower, while I was away on a mission. You made poor Maria Hill pay for the delivery, and have to explain it to me. That was extremely naughty of you. How many smacks do you think that earned you?"

"Five, Sir?" She gasped out, against the arch in her neck, feeling it in the base of her throat, her voice a little rough from the position she was in.

"Oh, I think a bit more than five, Brooklyn. Honestly, I think twenty is a little on the low side." He let go of her hair, and she dropped her face back to the bedding. "If that had been the only thing you had done, you might have gotten away with only twenty five. But when you add it to the rest of the total, how many strikes do you have, Babydoll?"

"With the twenty five, Sir? Or the twenty?" She asked, wanting to be accurate.

"With the twenty." He stroked his fingers down her wet flesh, seeking out and finding her clit, rubbing it with an almost feather like touch, probably so he didn't stimulate her too much.

"With the twenty, Sir... It's forty strikes, Sir." She held still, keeping her hips from chasing his touch as he pulled away. Forty was a lot, when she had never felt him use a belt. Forty might be too much, really.

"That's a lot." He commented, as if reading her mind, his voice almost sympathetic. He stroked her backside again, while sighing. "We might have to find a way to bring it down a bit. As I said, I want you uncomfortable, not damaged. And with a belt.... Hmm.. what to do, what to do... Do you have any ideas, Babydoll?"

Her mind was a jumble. She couldn't figure out how to bring the number down. There had to be something...

"I think we might start first with an apology." Steve said firmly. "If you get on your knees, and give me one of those sweet apologies I know you can do, and I honestly believe you, we can maybe take ten off. That sound fair?"

An apology?

She frowned. "Sir?"

"I want you to get off the bed, get on your knees, and beg me for my forgiveness." He stepped back, and she turned her body, still trying to keep the position, with her face still on the bed, to watch him. "And if I honestly think you are being sincere, I'll take ten off the count. That'll bring it down to thirty."

Thirty was still a lot, she worried. But he was being fair. She did owe him an apology. She had been reckless, and, well... a brat. Steve was willing to put up with more than his fair share of her bratty behaviour, but when he laid out what she had done, like he had, she could see his point. There had to be a point when too much was just too much. And she had apparently reached that point with him.

Nodding to herself, she met his eyes, and took a deep breath. "That is fair, Sir."

"Well, then?" He waved a hand towards his feet. "No time like the present, Babydoll."

She nodded again, before bringing her hands down to brace herself as she raised her upper body. Sliding back towards the edge of the bed, she slowly lowered herself down, turning until she was firmly kneeling at his feet, keeping her head lowered. She flexed her hand around the pink ball, making sure it was secure, before taking a deep breath.

"I am so sorry, Steve. I never should have done it. I never should have gone to the club. I shouldn't have danced, and bared my skin for people to look at. It was wrong. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." She bit her lip, not sure it was enough. Fear flew through her. What if he believed it wasn't enough.

"But you did upset me." He intoned, and she dared to dart her eyes up, watching as he folded his arms, the belt clasped in one hand. "It did more than upset me. That wasn't the worst of it. Because I had to go down there, and get you, you exposed us to the outside. People might find out. People might start to ask questions. They are gonna wonder who you are. If they find out, there is no knowing what they might say or do. That is why I am upset. Do you understand that? I can't always protect you from outside opinions. People who might use you to make an example of people who have done bad things. I can't protect you from that, not always."

She hadn't thought about that. Meeting his eyes, she let him see her remorse. "I am really sorry, Sir. I really am. I didn't mean for anything like that to happen."

"I am going to have do some serious damage control, when I get back to the Tower. If we are VERY lucky, Hill has already curbed as much of the social and news media from latching onto whatever information came out about me carrying a stripper off a stage in a club with mob ties as she can. They wont see a man collecting his girlfriend from making a bigger mistake than she already did. They wont see me ending a fight with my girlfriend. They are going to see Captain America man handling an innocent looking girl, and wonder why." Steve huffed. "And that's another thing. I did not 'shoplift' you, as you so eloquently accused me. Shoplifting indicates stealing. I did not steal you. You belong to me. How can I steal something that's already mine?"

"I'm sorry I accused you of that." She blinked. "I shouldn't have done that."

"No, you shouldn't have. But I have noticed a disturbing trend of you doing things that you shouldn't." He reached up rubbing his face. "I'm getting off track. What else are you sorry for, Babydoll. I need to decide if you have been sincere enough."
The wood of the floor was starting to irritate her knees, but she pushed it away. She'd had worse, before. If it meant that Steve forgave her for her transgressions, it would be worth it, in the end.

"I'm sorry I put a knife to your throat." She swallowed hard, the pain from the memory making her eyes sting. "I never meant for your... I just wanted... I was trying to protect you. But I... I should know you can protect yourself, even from me."

He reached down, stroking the top of her head, nodding. "I understand that. But it hurt me. It hurt me, because I knew that, even as you were doing it. It wasn't just me you were trying to protect though, was it?"

The bitter truth he wanted from her rose up the back of her throat. "No. I wanted to protect myself, too. I didn't want to be hurt. Because it just didn't seem possible... that you love me, as much as I love you."

Steve hummed, closing his eyes for a moment, a brief look of happiness crossing his face, before he schooled it, and opened his eyes. "That makes me so happy to hear you say those words, Babydoll. To know you love me, like I love you. But that still doesn't excuse that behaviour. I keep telling you that you can't use violence to get what you want. It's a lesson we are going to have to keep working on, isn't it."
She nodded. "Yes. It is. I'll try to do better, though."

"I know you will." He kept his hand still on her head. The heat of it was comforting. "Is that all you have to apologize for?"

"I should have called you or Wilson, the moment my father made himself known to me. No matter what was going on between us, I do believe you would have done everything in your power to help him. Even if we never were together again, I know you would do your best by Papa. It was wrong for me to put my selfishness above his protection. I'm sorry."

"Don't ever apologize for wanting to spend time with your father." Steve crouched down, meeting her eyes, taking the hand off the top of her head, to knuckle her chin so she kept her gaze on him. "I wont ever hold that want or need against you. I do wish you had been secure enough in yourself and with me, to reach out to me. Because now it's gonna a bit harder. If what you are saying is true, and he knows someone is looking for him, he's gonna make it that much more difficult for us. That's the issue, there. Even if you had told us, as soon as he left you, we might be able to close the gap. Because it's not just you that's been missing him. Its your sister. It's me. That's the problem with you not sharing your location, while you were with your father. Especially while on the phone with me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." She nodded. And she did know. She did understand. Papa was going to be difficult now that he had spent time with her. Considering how she had outfitted him as best she could, and given him money, it could be months before he resurfaced again. It might be months before they were able to get another possible lead. Papa could play this game for a while. And she had helped him. She had helped him evade Steve and Wilson. She had helped him, and he was going to miss so much of Juliana's life, of her life, because of it. Because she had been selfish, and afraid.

"I'm also so sorry, that I... I sent your things to the Tower the way I did. It was mean. It was petty." She swallowed, as he nodded, standing back up to his full height, crossing his arms again. She focused on the end of the belt, as it swayed from the movement. It was almost hypnotic, the way it went back and forth, the tanned leather tempting. She wanted to feel it on her finger tips, if only for a moment. But she resisted the urge to reach out for it. "It was childish. And it didn't take into account how you might feel about it. About how it would affect you to find out I had... kicked you out of our life together, without talking to you about it. And that was wrong. I am very sorry. Please, please... forgive me, Steve?"

He sighed, his lips pursing at the end, as he looked down at her, and she began to wonder if he was actually considering not forgiving her. Her mind began to race, frantic to prove it to him. To prove that she was being truthful in her apologies.

But he put her at ease, when he nodded, and reached down again, stroking her head. "Of course I forgive you, Babydoll. I think that was an apology worthy of taking ten strokes off your count. Such a good girl for me."

She turned her head into his hand, nudging it until she was able to press her lips to his palm, closing her eyes as joy at his forgiveness filled her. It chased away any shred of apprehension she had felt. In fact... it inspired her to make an offer.

"I want to breed play with you." She whispered. "I want to pretend to be giving you what you want. I want to beg you to knock me up, Steve. I want to feel you fill me, and pretend it's gonna work..."

His hand froze, before his fingers curled against her cheek. "Brooklyn..." His voice was low, full of warning.

"I want to hear you demand it from me. I want to submit myself to you, as you try to put a child in me." She kept her eyes closed, still pressing her lips to his palm. "I want to believe, if only for a while, that I'm okay with it. Maybe one day I will be, for real. But tonight, I want to pretend, that I'm okay. Is that alright?"

"You want to be my little cum slut, today?" His voice was low, darker than it had been at any point since he had woken her up. "You want to feel my cum drip out of you, after I climb off of you? Knowing that it might be working, even as I get ready to put more back in you? Is that what you want, today?"

Opening her eyes, she met his, keeping her eyes steady, letting the truth shine through. "Yes, Sir. I want to be your little breeding slut, today. Will you please try to knock me up?"

He suddenly bent down, hauling her to her feet, sending one hand into her hair, tilting her head back and be bent down, slanting his mouth over hers, his tongue invading her mouth roughly, causing her to moan in her throat, while he dropped the belt, so he could cup one of her breasts, pinching her nipple sharply. The spark and ache seemed to drive right to her clit, which she had been ignoring, bringing the throbbing back to the forefront of her mind. Without thinking about it, without really giving her body permission, her hips canted towards his thigh, seeking the rub of his jeans against her delicate flesh, knowing it would bring her off, without much effort. The hand not holding the ball for dear life, pressed itself against his chest, the pounding of his heart a soothing counterpoint to the pounding of her own body.

Just as quickly as he initiated the kiss, he ended it, resting his forehead on hers. A satisfied smirk was now on those pink lips, still wet from their kiss. "I think that merits another ten off your count, Babydoll."

She frowned. "That's not why-"

"I know. And that's why I'm taking the ten off." He kissed her forehead, keeping his lips pressed there. "Because you honestly offered, not expecting anything from it. That's why you are only going to be getting twenty. Okay?"

She swallowed, nodding. "Okay."

"Back on the bed. Back into position." He ordered, kissing her forehead again, stepping back, letting her go.

Her knees ached a little, still, from the floor, but she turned and climbed back on the bed, settling back into the position, making sure to shuffle so she was as comfortable as she was going to be, given what was about to happen. She heard the belt buckle rattle again, as he picked up the belt, and the sibilant hiss of the leather as he did something with it, and her body tightened for a moment, before she forced herself to relax. Whatever was about to happen, she was sure she would be able to handle it. Steve would never push her beyond what he knew she would be able to deal with. She was strong.

In this, at least, she was strong.

"Where's your ball, Brooklyn?" He asked, brushing her backside with his hand.

She reached behind her, showing him the ball clenched in her hand.

"Remember, if at anytime, it gets to be too much, drop the ball. And I will stop. You understand?" He stroked her throbbing pussy, the brief touch causing the ache inside her to become sharp, stabbing, for just a moment.

"I understand, Sir. If I drop the ball, you will stop." She shifted her head, making sure her ear was pressed firmly against the sheets. A deep inhale infused her lungs with the combined scent of the two of them. Whereas yesterday it hurt her, today it comforted her. She let herself sink into that comfort. This was the place she was the safest. Under his care. Under his control. Strong or weak, she was his.

"I love you." He reminded, pressing a kiss to the small of her back, his hand cupping her hip, his fingers digging into her flesh for a heartbeat. "I love you so much, Babydoll. Thank you, for this."

"I love you too, Steve." She breathed, closing her eyes. "It aches, how much I love you."

"I know." He soothed, pulling away. "It'll even out. I promise."

She dropped her hand back to the sheets, crooking her arm so it was more comfortable, but where she would be able to make sure the ball was visible, if she dropped it.

He cleared his throat. "Count each strike, thanking me, afterwards. Ready?"

Brooklyn took another deep, steadying breath, shifting to make sure she was brace for the impacts. "Yes, Sir. I am ready."
"Good girl." His voice was pleased, and she wanted to wiggle from how much that pleased her, to hear that she was pleasing him. "Here we go."

There was a shift in the air, then fire licked across her backside. It was a second that seemed like hours, as her body and brain computed what it was. As soon as the fire settled in, the pain flared close behind it, and a sharp cry escaped her lips. "Steve!"

"Count, Brooklyn." he ordered. "Count, and thank me. Unless you want to let go of the ball?"

She opened her eyes, blinded by the sharp pain, that began to fade. The burn left by the fire remained. But she wasn't going to quit. "No, Sir. One, Sir. Thank you."

"There's my obedient Babydoll." He praised. The shift happened again, but this time her ears picked up the almost silent whistle right before the fire struck again, the pain coming with it.

"Two, Sir. Thank you, Sir." she gasped, before biting her lip.

"Don't shy away from the pain. Don't tighten against it. It'll make it worse." He warned, as he struck her a third time with the belt.

The cry that came out of her was a bit sharper, this time, but she blinked against the pain, nodding into the sheets, as she counted. "Three, Sir. Thank you."

Somewhere, between three and five, the pain became a welcome counterpoint to the fire that proceeded it. Between five and ten, she felt her pussy grow wetter, as it throbbed in time with the pain from the belt. Between ten and fifteen, she was arching her hips into the strikes. Between fifteen and twenty, she was damn near close to orgasm.

That didn't mean it wasn't taking a toll on her.

Tears blinded her. Her voice was growing hoarse from the cries and screams that left her. Her hands and arms were trembling, as were her legs. Her knees felt like they were on fire, from the rubbing she sometimes did along the sheets as she shifted with the strikes. The pain had stopped being separate, melding together, only increasing as it was added to.

But unlike other pain she had felt in her life, there was a cathartic feeling to the pain. As if she was atoning for all the sins she had committed against Steve. He was taking what was his due, through her flesh, the flagellation fitting for the pain she had struck him with, over and over. The purity of it was fitting. Fully submitting herself to his punishment, submitting herself to his control... There was a simplicity and beauty in it.

In binding herself to him, she was free.

And not once, was she even tempted to let that ball leave her grasp. She held onto it as a lifeline. Proof to him, and to herself, that this was what she wanted.

"Twenty, Sir. Thank you, Sir." She cried, sniffing hard against the congestion in her nose and head. Tears were such a pain, sometimes.

"Such a good girl." He breathed, his breathing a tad heavy.

Sympathy swelled in her. While she had been crying and blubbering like a baby, he had been exerting himself, to make sure she had learned her lesson. While she had been simply kneeling there, he had been working to make sure she knew where she had gone wrong, and to ensure she knew not to do it again. He cared so much about her behaviour, and how she acted, that he was willing to make himself get worked up over it.

Steve Rogers loved her, enough to use his strength against her, to correct her.

"Fucking beautiful, Brooklyn." He pressed his fingers across the lines of fire, making them flare up again. "Absolute work of art."

"Yes, Sir." She didn't know how to respond.

"You are definitely going to feel this, for a few days, at least." He sounded so pleased, which pleased her. She had never thought that she would find so much pleasure in pleasing him. It was odd. She had never considered submitting herself to a man, before Steve. She had always seen the men around her as lesser. Beneath her. Below her, in regards to her status. But there was none of that, with Steve. He was... he was everything she never knew she needed.

"I am almost wishing you misbehave more often, if this is how your skin responds." He sighed, before pulling away, causing her to whine. "Hands behind your back, Babydoll."

She blinked, her hands behind her back, before she even thought about it. She wanted to obey him. She wanted to please him. It was as if there were no thought beyond that. He was wrapping something around her wrists. The belt, she realized. He was binding her with the belt. Not too tight, but tight enough that she wouldn't be able to slip out, at least, not without letting go of the ball.

"Still with me, Babydoll?" He asked, checking the belt around her wrists.

"Yes, Sir." She nodded. She sniffed again, clearing her breathing. "I'm still with you."

"Do you want to let go of the ball?" He touched the hand still wrapped around the ball.

"No, Sir." She flexed her fingers, feeling the give in the rubber. "I want to keep holding it."

"Good girl." He kissed her hand. "You ready for the rest of it? You want me to knock you up?"

The fire in the skin of her backside spread, igniting every nerve, the sharp hunger in her belly returning. She felt her clit throb in time with the throb of the heat of her backside. She shuffled her knees further apart, presenting herself to him, beckoning him to take her. The phantom memory of how it felt to feel him inside her, pressing into her, before he flooded her made her moan low. "Yes, Sir. Please, Sir? Please knock me up? I want it, so bad...."

The rustle of clothing, his shirt falling to the bed in her line of sight. The feel of his hands on her burning backside, the spreading of her cheeks, the air on her wet cunt, the dip of the bed behind her, and then he was inside her. Pushing into her, filling her, taking her.

It was a bit on the painful side, she would admit, the gasp that escaped her the only indication of it. It had been too long, really, since he had last fucked her. Too long since she had taken him into her body, felt the girth of him stretching her to the limits. But even with the pain was the satisfaction that she was his. That she was made to fit him. Even through the twinging of her insides, she knew she was built just for him. She had been made to seat Steve's cock inside of her.

"Fuck!" He shouted, shifting his hips against hers, digging his cock deeper into her. "Fucking hell, Babydoll. Fucking perfection, on the end of my cock. That's what you are."

He held her bound wrists in his hand, reaching under her to grab one of her breasts, his fingers plucking and pulling at her extended nipple. His hips began to beat against her ass, the smacks almost as hurting as the belt strikes earlier.

It felt beyond good. It felt incandescent. Fire and ice and water and sun... all of it... Air and vacuum... all of it at once, muddling her head, but her body responded. Her heart pounded harder, her lungs worked to supply her with air enough to hold on.

And inside her cunt, where Steve was thrusting and moving, she began to flutter.

She was so close to cumming. She knew it.

"Sir... Steve... I need...." She gasped, turning her head, digging her forehead into the sheets, looking down her curved body to where they were joined. Oh, God. That was the wrong thing to do. Seeing him move in her... seeing her wetness on his cock as it worked into her.... it was too much... "I need to cum!" She shrieked, her fingers closing tighter around the ball, refusing to let herself drop it.

"Then cum, Babydoll." He grunted, as his own breath labored. "Cum for me. Cum on my cock. Let me feel that pussy clamp down on it."

It was as if that was all she needed. His permission to let go. His order to do so. His desire to feel her orgasm on his body while riding hers.

As a gasping cry, low and long, of fuck, left her, her body exploded. Light and sound and feeling all became one. And centered in it was the continuous feel of him moving inside of her, hitting that spot that was an almost sharp counterpoint of pain, that was close to the feeling of when you poked your own navel, deep. The way you could feel it at the inside of your hips, at the back, almost. It wasn't hurtful, but it was sharp.

Even as she settled down, he was driving her higher again.

Then he stopped, and withdrew. Flipping her on her back, shoving her up the bed, he grabbed her knees and jerked them up his sides, as his hips drove down again, driving his cock into her. As the abrasion of the fabric rubbed at her, she realized he hadn't even removed his jeans, yet. He was fucking her, with his pants still on.

She laughed shortly, before shaking her head, leaning her head up, trying to capture his lips, but he pulled away.

"Not yet, Babydoll. Not until I know you are ready." He grinned, a little on the nasty side, his eyes flashing darkly.

"Ready?" She blinked.

"Tell me what you are, Brooklyn." He demanded. "Tell me what you want from me."

She gasped, before nodding. "I want your baby, Steve. Give me your baby? Knock me up? Please?"

"Ah, fuck." He groaned, leaning down, driving his tongue into her mouth as surely as he was driving his cock into her cunt. "Fuck, Babydoll. I'll knock you up. I'll put a baby in you. Fucking watch you grow with my child. Every fucking man on this fucking earth will know you belong to me, then. Fucking know I put that belly on you." He leaned back far enough to grab onto one of her breasts, his fingers rough and hard. "Watch as you get bigger and bigger... as you start to leak milk... fucking lick it up, Babydoll... Keep you primed so you can feed our baby."

"Oh, god." She cried, tossing her head back, grasping her closed fist with her other hand, making sure that damned ball didn't slip loose. "Yes. That... yes...Fucking breed me, Steve... make me your breeding slut... fill me with it..."

"Dirty little whore who wants to be fucking knocked up by a man..." He snarled, bending his head down to nip at the flesh of her free breast. "Fucking begging for my cum... fucking begging for me to breed her..."

"I am..." She gasped. "I am... I'm that whore..."

She was close to cumming again... his hips were keeping a steady deep tempo that was guaranteed to get her to cum. The way his pubic bone rubbed on her clit... the way the deep wet sucking sounds from between them kept up... It was all sending her closer and closer, tighter and tighter, the spring inside her was getting ready to let loose.

"Again..." She panted. "I have to cum again..."

"Do it..." He bit harder at her skin. "Just keep doing it, Brooklyn. Cum as often as you need to. That'll help you get the cum deep inside you. It'll help us get you pregnant."

This one was sharper, faster, an edge of pain to the pleasure, as she cried out a low sound that was stuttered by his thrusts into her as he worked her past the orgasm. All too soon it was over. And all too soon, the pleasure remained, and rebuilt.

"oh, god..." She shook her head. "I can't do it... not again..."

"You are." he confirmed. Grabbing her waist, he rolled over. Reaching behind her, even as his hips bounced up into hers, he undid the belt holding her wrists, tossing it to the side. "Show me, Brooklyn."

She blinked, confused for a moment, before she grinned. Bringing her hands around, she held up the one, showing him the bright pink, glittery ball in her hand. Then she placed the fist on one side of his chest, and her other hand on the other side, and began to ride him, at the same pace he was thrusting up.

"Good girl." he praised, flashing her a smile, before clamping his hands on her hips. "You wanna work for our baby? Huh? You want to work for your breeding?"

"Yeah." She nodded, focusing on where they were joined. It was a sight to behold, to be sure. How many people got to watch as their own bodies were socketed onto a cock like Steve's, to watch as their pussy lips seemed to suck and grasp at the cock being worked inside of them. Hell, even her clit seemed to be impressive, like this.

The visual helped with the physical.

She could already feel it coming again. She could feel her body giving in.

He moved a hand to press against her lower stomach. "Right here, Brooklyn. That's where our baby goes. That's where you are going to grow... right there." He pressed harder, and for some reason, it ratcheted up the feeling. "God fucking dammit, you are gonna be glorious, when you are pregnant. You know that? And don't think for one damn second that I wont keep fucking you through it. Right up until you get ready to pop. I'll be on you, night and day. Your pussy will be seeping cum, I'll be in you so damn much."
"Fuck...Steve..." She whined, tossing her head back. "Not again... I can't..."

"Again, and again..." He hissed, wrapping his arms around her, rolling them over, never missing a beat. His hands hooked under her shoulders, causing her to arch her back, her the back of her head digging into the sheets, which were starting to get moist from the sweat of their bodies. "Over and over... until you swell... until I know I've got you all knocked up...."

He rested his forehead on her shoulder, his own body curving as he hunched between her spread legs. She hooked one of her legs over his hips, feeling the flex against her skin. How much longer could he go on, she wondered, in a brief moment, before her body reminded her she had better, more pleasurable things to focus on.

"You close again, Babydoll? Huh?" He muttered, as he moved. "I can tell... I need you to cum when I do. I need your body to milk it deep inside you. I need you to work that cum to where it's gonna take, Brooklyn."

"No...." She shook her head, feeling blind. Her brain must be coming out of her ears. She felt like she couldn't think, beyond this moment, this place, this action. "I can't..."

"You can and you will." He ordered, as his hips seemed to fuck even harder against her. "You will, because you know this is what you want. You know you want it, just as much as I do. Because you are my dirty girl. And my dirty girl will always cum when I fuck her. When I cum in her. When I knock her up. Ooooh fuck, gonna breed my Babydoll....Finally get to breed her...."

His hands shifted. One slipped between them, until he was able to press her clit, hard, while the other wrapped around her neck. He held her in place, as if he was afraid she was going to somehow find a way to get out from under him, in this moment.

Between the touch on her clit, the pounding of his cock in her pussy, and the hand around her neck, it proved too much for Brooklyn. Holding on tight to that pink ball, she scratched at his back with her free hand, her eyes rolling back in her head as all of it came to a head.

If the orgasms before were explosions, this was a fucking nuclear bomb going off. It seemed to blow everything away, instantly, in a flash of light. Everything in her seized, flexed, then seized again. She knew her mouth was falling open, her chest fracturing. Her ears heard his deep groans and curses, she felt his hips batter against hers several times, before he pressed as hard as he could against her, inside her. His hands moved again, holding her tightly to him. But she seemed to be disconnected from it. Floating from it. Above it.

And just as sudden, she was crashing back into her own body.

She could feel the flex and thump of his cock. The scalding heat of his cum as it pooled deep inside her. The way her own body seemed to suck at his. The build-up of skin and blood under her nails. The taste of his breath in her mouth. The scent of their mating surrounding them.

An existential moment, caught between one breath and the next. That's what it was.

And as surely as from one moment to the next, she went from wound tight around him, to a wet, messy puddle under him. Her limbs trying to hold onto him, but not even having the strength to twitch, as they fell away. Under her skin, her nerves and muscles were going through involuntary spasms.

Above her, Steve lifted himself up, a satisfied grin on his face, his eyes heavy with his own satiation.

A male animal pleased with his mating.

She was gasping for breath. Her heart feeling like it was about to break open her chest with the force of it working. As the cool air hit her sweaty skin, she shivered, but she couldn't find it in her to care.

Steve remained hovering over her, sucking in deep breaths, before nodding.

"What?" She breathed, blinking.

"Good girl." he exhaled. "You didn't drop the ball."

She looked over at her hand, where it had fallen. Her nails had dug into the rubber. But he was right. She had held onto that ball, the entire time.

"Huh." She grinned, pleased with herself, even as her body reminded her that while she had slept well, the night before, she had not fully caught up on the sleep she had missed. She tried to hide the yawn that escaped, but Steve noticed, chuckling.

"Gimme a moment, Brooklyn." He bent his head down, kissing her gently, lovingly. Extending it as long as he could, before she had to break away to gasp for air. "You can take a breather."

"Breather?" She shook her head. "What?"

"Oh, Babydoll..." He nuzzled her cheek, whispering kisses along the skin. "This was just round one. We aren't gonna stop until we have to."

********************

She fluttered her eyes open, stretching as she woke. Her body ached, but in a good way. Well, except her backside, which still throbbed from the belting Steve had given her.

In the silence of the apartment, she could hear movement in the kitchen, the water turning on in the sink, then going off, the clink of plates or bowls on the counter, the opening and closing of the fridge. Steve was doing something in the kitchen, and for the life of her, she couldn't bring herself to care.

It was warm in the bedroom. So much so, that she pushed the sheets down her body, a small hedonistic thrill thrumming through her as she arched her body against the scent and sweat soaked fabric under her. Rolling onto her side, she pulled her knees up towards her body, wrinkling her nose at the sticky and flaky feeling of the insides of her thighs, her lower lips still smeared with the amount of cum still leaking from her. She cupped her breasts, gentle against the tender flesh, as even her nipples felt like they were raw.

Which considering how Steve had been anything but gentle, the what... three... four? Times they had fucked... was not surprising. The thrill of having him raw, uncensored, fully out of control, had been exhilarating. Giving him the permission to be as rough or as gentle as he wanted to be had been the best choice she had made in quite a while. Granted, it also helped that they had been in a position where there had been no need to stop, or to lower their voices, or hide what they had been doing. Something that they had not really had too much opportunity to do, in the months that they had been having sex. Hell, at one point, when she had asked to go get a drink, he had lifted her up, carried her into the kitchen, and gotten her a glass of water. All while still keeping his cock in her. He had simply sat her on the edge of the sink, gotten a glass out of the cupboard, and filled it from the sink. And as soon as she had drained the glass, he had tucked her back into his body, and resumed fucking her.

Of course... now that he had basically decided he had enough, if only for a while, and she had been given a chance to actually take a deep nap, she could feel the after effects all through out her body.

In some ways, a marathon sex session was similar to a high stakes mission, at least on the effects it had on the body.

She was pondering this comparison, making the matches and so forth, when Steve came into the bedroom. She looked at him from over her shoulder, enjoying the position she was in too much to really move.

"There's my Babydoll." He grinned at her, holding a plate in one hand, and a coffee cup in the other. "I was wondering if I was going to have to wake you up."

"I'm just enjoying my body." She told him, grinning back at him.

"Well, considering how much I enjoyed your body this morning, I think that's okay." he came over to the bed, sitting down on the edge, setting the coffee cup and the plate down on the nightstand, before climbing onto the bed, reaching for her.

"No..." She giggled, as he pulled her close to him. "No more... I need to rest!"

"I know." He bent his head kissing her, pulling away to rub his nose on hers. "I just want to hold you, for a bit. Before we need to think about getting up and get over to Malba to get Juliana."

She groaned, burying her face in his chest. "Do we have to? Can't we just stay here, locked away?"

"We could." He allowed, bringing a hand up to stroke her tangled hair. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it looked like. "But... I mean, I'm sure the Marinos would be more than happy to raise Juliana. I'm sure your father would completely understand you wanting to spend your days and nights rolling around naked in bed with me, instead of taking care of your sister."

She snorted, and he laughed a little, before continuing.

"And I'm sure the Avengers wouldn't mind just... going on missions without me." he pulled away, looking down at her. "Just as I'm sure you will be perfectly able to take that test you are working for, while naked on my cock, in this apartment. No problem."

"Sarcasm and blackmail don't suit you, Rogers." She growled, biting at his chest, catching the edge of her teeth on his skin, causing him to hiss.

"I guess that means we are gonna have to get up, get cleaned up, and get dressed." He cupped the back of her head. "Because I guess that means we do, in fact, have to go collect your sister."

"Or, and this is probably my best idea, yet..." She batted her eyes at him, for some strange reason. "We could leave her there, for another day, and spend our time.. doing other things..."

"Brooklyn." He narrowed his eyes slightly at her. "You need a few hours to recover, at the least. I'm sure by tonight, you will be ready to go again, but for right now... Don't you miss our family? All of us, being under one roof together?"

Brooklyn sighed. "No. You are right. I do miss it. I miss what we were doing... But... I have to look her in the eyes..."

"And tell her you spent time with your father. I know." He kissed her forehead. "It's not gonna be easy. She's not gonna understand, not really. But she has been missing you, so much. She's been worried that you weren't gonna come home. That you didn't want her anymore."

She flinched. "That's not true. I love her. I want her."

"I told her that." He soothed. "But she's a child. She doesn't understand what's been going on. I didn't feel like it was appropriate to try to explain it to her. But I tried to make her understand that you wouldn't leave her."

"I was thinking..." She took a deep breath, and tried again. "For a moment there, I tried to figure out how I was going to make sure she was safe, if we went with Papa. In the end, I could only think that putting her in a school would be the safer option. At least there... But then I figured... you would somehow..."

"I wouldn't let you just grab her, Brooklyn." He told her, firmly. "I love that girl. There is nothing I wouldn't do to keep her safe. Not to mention... I know you wouldn't be able to just leave her behind. She was... she was the security I had, that you were gonna come home. It's wrong of me, I know. But... as long as I knew where she was, I knew I hadn't lost you, just yet."

Snorting, she shook her head. "Using my sister as emotional reassurance that you hadn't lost me? Really, Rogers?"

He had the presence to look embarrassed, at least. "Like I said, I know it was wrong. But... I was holding onto anything I could."

"I guess that's fair." She allowed. "I guess you are right. We should get up and bring her home."

He kissed her again, before turning over a bit to reach for the plate he had put on the nightstand. "I picked up some things from the bakery, earlier. I didn't mention that the greengrocer from around the corner stopped to make a delivery. So I was able to cobble together something of a breakfast for you."

"I didn't put in an order with the greengrocer." She frowned, scootching up the bed, still on her hip to keep her backside off the sheets.

"Does Kitty know you are back?" He asked, adjusting his own position so he could put the plate on his lap, picking up a small slice of bread with what looked like cheese and a slice of thin cured meat on it. "Maybe she put in the order, for you."

"Maybe." Brooklyn shrugged, reaching to take the food from him. But he held resisted, moving around to offer it to her mouth.

"Lemme feed you, Babydoll. You know how much I like that." He gave her a half smile. She didn't roll her eyes. Instead, she opened her mouth and accepted the bite. "See? Look how easy it is to let me take care of you."
"You're still an idiot, Rogers." She snorted, her mouth full. "Just keep remembering that."

"How could I forget?" He leaned over, planting a kiss on her pursed lips. "I'm so lucky to have you around, to remind me of it, every day."

A/N: At this point, i dont feel like i should apologize for any body being triggered. You knew what was happening in this story, by now. If you lasted this long, you are well aware. That being said, sorry! Vote and comment!