Author’s Note: This takes place about a year after the end of the series ‘The Originals’, and contains spoilers for the entire series. I wrote this before I watched the first episode of ‘Legacies’, so no spoilers for that. This story was written for the Trick or Treat 2018 challenge over on the LiveJournal Group ‘spanking_world’. I was given the following three prompts to make a story with: Fireworks; Silk; Haunted
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: consensual cathartic / erotic spanking.





SURVIVOR’S GUILT


Freya stepped out onto the little balcony and looked down at the crowded streets full of people celebrating Mardi Gras. The music, drinking, dancing, and partying in the streets had been going on all day long and was now continuing through the night. This year’s celebration was especially joyous for the supernatural residents of New Orleans, because it had been a year of peace. But that peace had come with a steep price.

Leaning against the balcony’s railing, Freya tried to hold back her tears. Almost a year ago today, she’d lost both Elijah and Klaus. They’d sacrificed themselves to protect Klaus’ daughter, Hope, and to ensure that their remaining siblings, and New Orleans itself, would have a chance at survival.

She felt the first few tears slide down her face. So many of her family members were gone. Finn, the only brother she truly remembered from her childhood. Mikael, her beloved father who had been sweet and loving before his firstborn was taken. Elijah, who’d always felt like a true equal, even though he was technically her younger brother, because he was calm, steadfast, and rational like her. Klaus, her unpredictable, demanding, and reckless brother who had entrusted her with the one thing he loved the most in the world; his daughter. And even though Freya had mixed feelings about her, she often missed her mother, Esther, as well.

Then there were all the loved ones that weren’t blood relations, but that she missed nonetheless. Hayley, who felt like a sister after living side by side for fifteen years to help raise Hope. Josh, who’d been a loyal friend for years. And so many kind hearted witches, vampires, and werewolves that had been killed because of her family’s drama, that it was painful to think about the body count.

A loud explosion startled Freya, and her head jerked up towards the source of the noise. The sky lit up with a massive circle of colorful dancing lights. A small smile formed on Freya’s tear streaked face as more of the Mardi Gras fireworks went off, littering the sky with brilliant colors, reminding her of all the times she’d watched them with Hayley and Hope.

She heard a noise behind her, and turned to see her pregnant wife, Keelin standing at the balcony doors. Freya wiped the tears off her face, and tried to smile.

"How’s Mama?" Freya asked, holding out her hand for Keelin to join her.

"I’m fine."

Freya gave her a loving kiss and said, "You look better than fine to me. You’re glowing. How is baby Mikaelson?"

Every time Freya got to use that name it made her happy. The baby would be biologically half Vincent and half Keelin, but he or she would carry on Freya’s family name to the next generation, which was important to the oldest Mikaelson. Hope was biologically a Mikaelson, but all of her legal documentation listed Marshall as her last name. Rebekah had used the cure, become human, and married Marcel. She had an appointment to be artificially inseminated next month, but that baby would carry the last name Gerard. And the only remaining Mikaelson was Kol, who had zero plans for children with his wife Davina. So the baby that was currently growing in Keelin’s stomach, would be the only one to carry on the family name. But Mikael had been a horrible father to all of his other children, so Freya thought it was fitting that only her child would carry his name.

"Baby Mikaelson is squirmy tonight." Keelin said, putting Freya’s hand over her stomach to feel the baby move just as another explosion burst in the air. "Maybe she can’t wait to come out and see the fireworks," Keelin added with a grin.

Grinning in return at the tease, Freya said, "Maybe he doesn’t like all the noise and excitement. I think his Mama needs to get back in bed."

"Only if her Mommy comes back inside with us."

Figuring she’d lay down until Keelin fell back to sleep, Freya easily agreed, and they walked inside, closing the balcony doors behind them. Freya walked to her side of the bed, and pulled back the covers, but before she could get in, Keelin said softly, "I don’t think sleep is what you really need, babe."

Freya stilled when she heard the tone of voice her wife was using. She looked over at Keelin, and saw that look in her eyes.

"What you really need is to be naked and kneeling at my feet." Keelin raised her eyebrows and waited expectantly for Freya’s response.

Freya’s stomach did a pleasant flip at those words, but that happy thrill of excitement only served to make her feel guilty. Why should she get to be happy with her wife when so many people were gone?

"I’m not really in the mood," she said quietly, unable to flat out disagree with her wife’s assessment of what she needed.

Keelin took the three steps that separated them, and put a hand on the side of her face. They looked into each other’s eyes, and Keelin said softly, "It doesn’t matter if you’re in the mood or not. I can tell that you need it to help get past all the things that are going on in your head."

Freya couldn’t deny that, and darted her eyes to the ground.

"You know as well as I do that this helps. If we don’t do it tonight, you’ll just feel worse tomorrow."

Reluctantly, Freya nodded.

"So do as I asked please." Keelin sat on the edge of the bed to watch.

Once Freya had stripped, she knelt down at Keelin’s feet and rested the side of her face on her wife’s thighs. Keelin ran her fingers through Freya’s blond hair and said, "Good. Now tell me what you were thinking about out there."

"Everyone we lost."

"And?"

"I’m haunted by thoughts of them every day. It feels wrong, almost blasphemous in a way, to be so happy when they’re gone."

"Don’t you think they’d want you to be happy?"

"Yes but…"

"No." Keelin cut her off. "No buts. Just yes. They would want you to be happy, Freya. They want all of us to be happy. You, me, Hope, Rebekah, Marcel, Kol, Davina, and Vincent all get to be happy because of the sacrifice that Klaus and Elijah made. Don’t you think they would want happiness for all of us?"

"They would."

"Would they want you to feel guilty about that happiness?"

"No."

"So let’s give you something else to concentrate on." Keelin patted her thigh and said, "Over my lap, while I’ve still got one."

Freya chuckled despite her melancholy mood. She thought Keelin’s growing stomach was beautiful and amazing, but her wife wasn’t always thrilled about the changes her body was going through now that she was starting to show.

Once Freya was in position with her torso resting on the bed, her feet on the floor, and her ass in the air across her wife’s lap, her brain started to settle. The familiar position helped her feel safe and loved, which helped her not to focus on the guilt of surviving.

"I want your witchy little hands behind your back where they won’t do you any good if things get intense," Keelin said.

Those words woke up Freya’s libido, and a tiny moan came out of her as she put both hands at the small of her back. She looked over her shoulder and watched her wife take off the thin strip of silk that held her bathrobe closed, and shuddered with pleasure as the soft cream colored fabric circled her wrists and cinched them together.

"Beautiful," Keelin murmured before raising her hand and giving the naked flesh in front of her a frim slap.

Freya gasped, and wiggled. The first slap never failed to somehow surprise her, even though they’d done this many times before. Before she could truly settle, another slap landed, and another. The pace was too fast for Freya to concentrate on anything other than the sharp sting of each slap building on top of the last. She whined and squirmed, and the silk that bound her wrists pulled taut with her involuntary movements.

It wasn’t until Keelin started focusing all the blows on Freya’s upper thighs, that the witch offered a drawn out whiny complaint. "Owwww."

Scoffing at the protest, Keelin picked up the pace. "I’ve barely started."

Freya groaned and willed the endorphins to kick in sooner rather than later. Her right foot came up off the floor when a particularly sharp slap hit her thigh, and her hands automatically reached down to try and cover part of her ass.

"I don’t think so." Keelin grabbed the knotted silk, and moved her wife’s wrists back to where they’d been, never missing a beat as she did it.

Little pain filled grunts and whines filled the air in between the clap of skin hitting skin. Then just at the point where Freya thought she’d have to beg her wife to stop, a switch seemed to flip inside her brain, and the pain melted into the background while her arousal came to the forefront. Soon each slap sent a jolt of pleasure to her clit, and she tilted her hips to raise her ass higher.

"There we go," Keelin said. She slowed the pace, but put more force behind each smack.

The room filled with moans and gasps of pleasure between blows instead of pain, and Freya couldn’t focus on anything other than the overwhelming physical sensations building inside her.

"Please," she moaned.

"Please what, babe?" Keelin asked while slapping.

"Please more."

"Mm," Keelin hummed in approval. Switching hands, she started slapping Freya’s ass with her left hand, and moved her right hand down in between her wife’s thighs.

Freya encouraged that move by spreading her legs open farther, and arching her back.

Keelin’s experienced fingers found the nub of pleasure she’d been looking for, and started expertly rubbing it back and forth in time with the slaps of her other hand.

"Oooooh," Freya moaned loudly as the last vestiges of rational thought left her brain. Her body writhed in place as coils of intense pleasure circled through her body and quickly built to a crescendo. Her entire body spammed in waves of bliss as the duel sensations drove her over the edge, and a loud cry of release burst from her lips.

As Freya came down from her orgasm, Keelin stopped spanking, and started gently rubbing the pink flesh instead. Within seconds, Freya felt floaty, boneless, and satisfied.

"Let’s get you in bed," Keelin said as she untied the strip of silk from around Freya’s wrists.

"What about your turn?" Freya asked, but her voice sounded spent even to her own ears.

"This was just as good for me as it was for you." Keelin helped her wife to stand up, and then pulled back the covers on Freya’s side of the bed.

"But you didn’t…"

Keelin cut her wife off by thoroughly kissing her. When their lips parted, Keelin guided her wife into their bed, and repeated herself firmly. "This was just as good for me as it was for you. I love watching your pale skin turn pink, and I love being able to take care of you this way." She pulled the covers up over Freya and kissed her forehead.

Freya opened her mouth to protest again, but Keelin held a finger up to stop her.

"If you keep arguing with me, I’ll decide you need another lesson in submission."

Even in her sated state those words made Freya’s clit throb. The last ‘lesson in submission’ had been a week of orgasm denial for Freya, and while it had certainly had its benefits, she had no desire to experience it again at this point in time.

"No more arguments," Freya said, and patted Keelin’s side of the bed.

"Good decision." Keelin took her robe off and climbed into bed.

They snuggled up together, and within minutes Freya felt Keelin’s breathing even out. Freya’s mind drifted back to the loved ones she’d lost, and took comfort in her wife’s firm belief that they would want her to be happy. With that thought in mind, she was finally able to fall asleep with the side of her head pressed against her wife’s chest.


The End

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