Disclaimers: There is sex between women in this one. Also, there is one scene with BDSM overtones.


The Killing of Butterflies

Part 7 - Finale


Written by WarriorJudge



Emma inspected her reflection mirrored back to her by the blade's smooth surface and traced the lettering etched into it with the tip of a finger. The history of it downed her along with where she had last left that particular instrument. It hadn't been a business competitor who'd commissioned the hit, and greed had played no part in it. It had been an angry parent, and the motive had been vengeance for the vandalizing of a child's soul. Penurius had made the mistake of preying on one of his own, instead of the usual guttersnipes.

"I believe there's a protocol here, ' Thank you so very much, Darling," followed by feigned assertions such as: " You shouldn't have ". The Justice felt the joy of a small triumph even though Emma was never to be made aware of it.

"I didn't peg you for a miser, my Lord …Gifting me with my own property, and on our anniversary, no less."

"Which you failed to remember, My Lady. "

"Where did you find it?" Emma rolled the dagger in her skillful fingers.

"It doesn't matter," the Justice muttered reluctantly.

"Who sold it to you? Did you confiscate…"

The Judge knew that if she told Emma everything that had happened and how she'd come by her dagger, the Lady might lose what little respect she had for her, for betraying herself and her convictions. It was nothing personal and had little to do with the Judge, but more to do with Emma's perception of her role as a Lord's Lady, which was presenting the former in the best light possible.

"It's a long story," the Judge answered nebulously.

"You're more insufferable than usual and I feel like half your mind isn't even here with me. What happened to you? Tell me!" The mulish Lady p ersisted .

But the Justice was getting dangerously close to the end of her tether. "I tell you only what I think you should know, girl. Never bring this subject up again." Her voice was harsh, decisive and laden with a quality of finality. When Emma's cobalt orbs locked with the Justice's darker ones, she knew better than to press any further for the specifics. She realized she had reached the outer limits of her Lord's tolerance and from this point on it would be ill advised to trifle with her. She terminated her inquiry immediately.

"I suggest you keep it hidden and secured," the Judge said with her gaze downcast onto the shiny blade, traces of previous sternness still lingered. Regretting her continued usage of starkness, she added more softly, "Perhaps where you keep your shiny things," as if making allowance for Emma's amiable greed.

Years had taught Emma to read her Judge fairly well, and so an eerie sensation that a clandestine sacrifice had been made for her wouldn't let her alone. It was like a steep debt had been created, a debt she neither could, nor perhaps wanted to repay, which was just as well. Repaying debts hasn't been what her Lord wanted from her.

The Lady got out of bed and sashayed around it. She gently pulled at the Judge's arm. "Let's get you in the shower," she elected to respond in kind to the Judge's tenderness.

From a lying position, the Judge heavily rose to sit on the edge of the bed.

Emma squatted before her and took the Judge's leather boots off. Attentively, she assisted the Justice out of her attire. She then disrobed as well under the Judge's proctorial eyes and continued to lead the Tall One into the bathroom.

The Justice reached for the faucet, "I see that you still haven't had this thing fixed," she pointed out as she waited a few moments for a healthy stream to finally come pouring down.

"I told you, Darling, I can only fix one thing at a time and I'm still working on you," answered the Lady.

Beneath the running water, amongst the soothing steams, Emma lathered her hands with scented soap and ran them over the Judge's spent body, cleansing it. She refrained from voicing the itching question regarding the remnant of oleaginous black ointment that was wadding a few lines over the surface of the Judge's skin at the vicinity of her bulging collarbone. She could feel her Lord's obtruding leer physically touching her like third and fourth hands were skimming her form.

Once Emma had finished washing her front, the Judge felt the killing, wee hands being pressed against her back and rubbing pleasurable luxurious circles into her muscles, rejuvenating her with every stroke.

The Judge espied Emma's sensual movements and the droplets of water that clung to her nipples, when she faced Emma again.

"Here, let me do yours," the Judge twirled Emma around and soaped her back. "You missed a spot," she teased and rubbed that part of Emma's anatomy which she had stipulated exclusivity. Emma slightly gasped when she felt the Judge's finger sliding over the erogenous spot and her desire intensified.

After exiting the bath, the Judge dried Emma's body with a clean towel, meticulously absorbing the glistening water, while Emma's idle gaze tarried on her Lover's wet, unkempt scarlet hair.

Once Emma's skin was dry, the Justice ran a towel over her own body. As she did so, she showed off her physic by flexing her biceps, and making the muscles of her chest bounce in a frolicsome manner. To Emma, the motives behind the demonstration were transparent but she adored her Lord for still caring enough to impress her.

"So did it take you the sum total of three days to retrieve my dagger, or did you make a little stop on your way home and squander your money on whores again?" She managed to convey with a lukewarm tone that she couldn't care less one way or the other - like she was merely making conversation about some nugatory matter such as the weather, and yet, the question had been asked.

"Squandering money on whores…" the Judge scoffed, "That reminds me, I bought you something," That comment provoked Emma to playfully elbow the smirking Justice between her ribs. The Judge collected another parcel she had discarded on the bureau when she had first entered Emma's bedchamber, and gave it to the Lady. Emma unpacked it to find peculiar garments.

"It's a bedlah," The Justice pointed out and picked two small mastoid golden domes linked to one another by a golden thread, forming a flamboyant sequined bra. It was adorned by aurora borealis crystals, small pearls and diamonds accenting along the fringes. " When a belly dancer performs she becomes the living and moving archetype of what the audience expects to see." The Judge cupped each of Emma's voluptuous breasts and covered them with the oriental garment. Emma absentmindedly held her breath at the feel of the weight of her m alleable breasts being lifted and her sensitive nipples being grazed and fondled by a pair of grand warm hands, and her gaze outlined the Justice's facial contour, when the latter focused on the task at hand.

"This costume is traditionally seen as the colorful and glamorous accompaniment to the belly dance." Next, the Lord Justice took the scarf, which was a foiled intricate latticework, gilded with thin leaves of fine gold, and ornamented similarly to the bra. "This decorated bra and scarf," she said while she w reathed it around Emma's hips, tied it, and pulled the Lady closer to her by it, "accent the movements, frame the steps, and draw the eye to the body part that is being utilized at that moment in the dance. If a dancer shakes or shimmies her shoulders, the bra should move along with the movement, and vice versa with the hips. The jewels and other hanging ornaments emphasize the isolations."

The Judge twirled the primped Lady around to have her face the large mirror on the wall. "In the parcel there are also arm gauntlets done in filmy georgette chiffon, and leg coverings, harem style. The veil, of course is optional."

Warriors usually tend to have the most ghastly taste and on occasion, past lovers had lavished the preened Lady with baubles - but never her Judge.

"Aren't you going to dress me in them as well?"

"Not at the moment. These will be sufficient for now. I just wanted to make sure the design is to your liking, my Golden Lady," said the Satyr Chief Bencher and kneaded Emma's bare shoulders.

"Golden Lady," mused Emma, "That sounds like someone worthy of worship,"

"Of course it does," extolled the Judge.

Emma's body was comely with her dancing garments, and the Judge felt a slight pang in her heart as she studied their images in the mirror, for they appeared ineffably compatible together.

"I doubt you had only me in mind when you purchased it," the Lady teased with her cunning eyes and earned a crafty half-smile from the s talwart Warrior standing behind her.

"I distinctly remember reading in your diverse and, shall we say, quaint resume that you are also a dancer, and yet I've never seen you dance."

"Would you like me to dance for you, my Lord …A sensuous gift of dancing to arouse your thirst for me?" Emma's lithe wanton body began moving, constricting like a python against the Judge's unrobed body to ignite her desire.

"I don't need to see you dance in order to be aroused by you, dearest. I don't even need to see you move. My desire for you is omnipresent."

Emma halted her enticing movements and stepped away from the Justice in silence.

"I want a close, slow dance," the Judge finally expressed her wish and extended her arm to the blonde Lady. Emma slipped her hand into the Judge's large one and leaned in as the Justice drew her closer. Their denuded bodies pressed tightly together with the Judge's arm supporting Emma's narrow waist. Despite the greatly notable difference in heights, Emma's pliable body fit perfectly with the Judge's.

"We don't have music to dance to," Emma whispered and rested a flushed cheek against the Judge's naked chest.

Then, from above, Lady Emma heard the Judge begin to sing softly into her ear, and her sonorous, extrusive alto engulfed the Lady's very being.

Like anyone would be

I am flattered by your fascination with me

Like any hot-blooded Warrior

I have simply wanted an object to crave


But you, you're not allowed

You weren't invited

An unfortunate slight

In the Judge's brawny arms, Emma's innate disposition to resist that which rallied whenever in her Judge's company ebbed away. She permitted herself to be almost swept off her feet, as she was guided by her dancing Partner. Their bodies always moved together in perfect unison, like a monolithic entity - especially in the throes of their carnal merging, she had to admit.

Must be strange ly exciting

To watch the stoic squirm

Must be somewhat heartening

To watch shepherd need shepherd


But you, you're not allowed

You weren't invited

An unfortunate slight

To Emma it sounded as if her stately Partner was singing inside her head. She cherished the feeling of the Judge's vocal vibrations and the seismic thumping of her heartbeats as they danced. She listened to the perplexing words, which were swimming in the music, and realized that there was something different about the Justice's mettle, a grievous shift of something basal, just like an earthquake that doesn't merely change the clods on the surface.

Like any uncharted territory
I must seem greatly intriguing
You speak of my love like
You have experienced love like mine before

But this is not allowed
You weren't invited
An unfortunate slight

I don't think you unworthy
I need a moment to deliberate



When the song ended, they kept on clinging to one another, each waiting for the other to be the first to let go, but neither one of them wished to break the intimate clinching embrace just yet. And so, not quite ready to release the other, they kept on dancing entwined in silence, pretending they didn't discern the music had ended, pretending they didn't want the dance to end, when in actuality it was the contact they clung to. The Justice half-expected Emma's grip to tighten further, but it didn't.

After some time, in which she felt her Lord more distant from her than ever before, "Get down here," the small blonde said with a strange, unreadable voice. She tried to moor her hand behind the towering Justice's neck in order to pull her down for a fervent feral feed off her lips, but she failed to reach and grasp and the Justice wouldn't lean down. Defiantly, she placed her hand on her hip, tapped the floor with a goading foot and waited for the Justice to swoop down.


The Judge balled a handful of the coquette's fair hair in her fist and lightly tugged it, just enough to get her point across, "No!" She decreed determinably, "Climb up".

Hearing her Lord's seductive demand, Emma arched a sly eyebrow and confidently smiled her sureness in her ability to rise to the challenge, and began scaling the Justice's lofty body. First she grabbed hold of the Jack-of-Legs' sculpt biceps then she stepped on her large feet. Next, she pulled her weight upwards, gliding her magnificent almost stripped body sluggishly against the Judge's hard one, whilst docking the tip of her wee toes into every nook and cranny created by the Justice's chiseled muscles for leverage.

As Emma shinnied up her body, the Justice kept perfectly still, not clenching a muscle, not assisting Emma's sensual ascension in any way. Feeling Emma's hot curvaceous body straining so deliciously against hers, the copious ornamented breasts slithering up against her physique -- All wouldn't sanction her even a breath, let alone a motion.

When arriving to her final destination, Emma locked her legs behind the Judge's back. The soles of her feet rested against the Justice muscle-packed buttocks, and her smooth warm thighs wrapped tightly around the Justice's waist. Her damp sex pulped against the Justice's stomach. Emma's eyes were level with the Justice's; their famish lips locked and their tongues compressed in a ravenous caustic kiss no force on earth could degauss.

"Take me to bed," came Emma's urgent solicitation.

The Judge carried the wheedling woman in her arms. When she reached the bed, she gently deposited Emma onto it, and laid the cradled head onto the pillows. Silently, she marveled at how insidiously beautiful the woman was, how beguilingly so. Emma's lips were as red as a pomegranate and her gold silk-like ringlets were blanketing the bolster, like the proverbial fleece. The Justice felt like an idolater, which her father had warned her of only too often in her youth. It was one of those things from childhood that sticks with a person and never really leaves them.

The Warrior laid herself alongside her Lady and spread her bare slender body against the slighter frame. She snaked her forearm beneath Emma's neck and her free hand worked dexterously to expose the Lady's breasts again and untie the scarf from around her hips. No matter how many times she had seen the Lady's naked body the past year, she was every bit as enthralled by it as the first night she had seen it. Her hands then skittered down the Lady's calf until her steel vice latched around the Lady's delicate ankle. She motioned Emma to rest her leg over her own robust thigh, positioning it how she wanted her. Her proprietary hand glided back up the Lady's leg and coaxed a soft white thigh to give way.


Emma felt the increasing pressure of her sex being parted by her lover's fingers and something stiff and thick at her center. The Warrior's fingers passed by a soft sodden patch of trimmed gold tinted down and warm succulent folds without resistance. Four strong digits were cleaving their way into Emma's womanhood easily. The Lady emitted guttural moans. From the dallying pace and reticent touch, she realized they were simply to prepare, not release her.

A blinding rush of pleasure coursed through her. Her Lord's touch was a portent, she felt in her trembling bones -- this was going to be one of those long nights of p rurience, in which her lover would bring her paralyzing deliverance, and leave her body enfeebled, sore and satisfied .

As the Lady rode the strict fingers rocking slow and hard in and out of her, she felt the sluggish slither of her Lord's cock up and down the valley between the round cheeks of her pert ass. A soaring crimson pyre licked her skin, pervaded into her flesh and pricked her nipples into hard nodules. Emma braced herself when a sharp jostle stoutly reamed the crevice her Lord always had a particular predilection for, filling her completely with a single dictatorial thrust.

The Justice's penetrating fingers firmly pumped and rubbed the inner pleasure spot deep inside Emma's slit. Siphoning the tangy confection of her Lady's lust, she created an olfactory presence of sex. Her coarse thumb slowly swirled over Emma's swollen and anointed clit, maddeningly hardening and arousing it.


The harder the Judge pushed her hefty throbbing erection into Emma's anus the deeper her fingers breached her aching, turgid slippery core. She wallowed in the warm depth around her long digits, wanting her.

As the Justice made love to the woman that epitomized all her desires, she was entranced by the mesmerizing sight of Emma's ample breasts heaving and swaying to the indolent cadence her hand ordained. The breast she had marred in her dream flared vivid images of Emma's branding in her head. She closed her eyes, not wishing to disclose the known secret of her fantastic, owning savagery to her mate.

"Please," she heard Emma's ardent supplication, and felt a soft palm caressing her rigid forehead along with an errant strand of titian hair , "Keep them open." The Lady longed to bear witness to the smoldering peerless Darkness, the Lord Justice's Darkness, which made her skin bristle, her heart shudder and her body consume itself with smothering ardor.

Opening her eyes the Justice saw the Lady looking venerably at her. That look behooved her to bestow pelting showers of exigent kisses and bites upon Emma's neck, and sucks and nibbles upon her supple breasts. She covered Lady Emma's mouth with her own. They kissed wistfully, and as her tongue bathed Emma's, the Justice secretly wished that the Lady didn't have a life beyond her reach.

The Judge's strong fingers, pistoning phallus and probing thick tongue filled her so deeply that Emma could feel the Judge swarming in her veins. It took her higher and higher, but the Judge's laggard ministrations left the Lady in a plateau, teetering at the edge. Marveling at a Warrior's unleashed power, Emma spread her legs wider, pressed herself down onto the Judge's stroking hand and ground her ass on the Judge's phallus. Emma watched the terrible beauty of the Warrior Judge, as she rode her, as she took Emma on her journey of conquest of whatever it was she sought from the Lady. Emma's seething core twitched and contracted around the pleasuring fingers in protest and frustration, urging the Justice to take her harder. The Justice didn't heed to it. She didn't assuage Emma's excruciating need, but maintained rigorous command over her lover's body.

"I give you enough…" The Judge's voice was raucous, "More than you need," she groaned beneath labored breathing, "Now, if it takes all night for you to come, Lady, then so be it."

The Judge's austere words recrudesced the Lady's ambitious visceral hunger for release, yet the Lady acquiesced to her Lord's ruling.

Hours elapsed, and nearing its dusk, the moon's rays of silver light crept through the curtains. The Justice was still on Emma's back, ubiquitously wreaking her lust, enduing her Lady with shuttering pleasure. Her undulating thrusts slowly and steadily plowed in and out of the Lady's taut rear asset and her fingers continuously impaled Emma's dousing sex. She tried to take all Emma had left of herself that wasn't already hers.

Emma's body writhed uncontrollably as she felt the sexual pressure amassing and spilling out of her. As she hooked her arms around the Judge's neck and panted into her ear in time with her lazy impassioned thrusts, she feared her body wouldn't be able to withstand the awesomeness of the inevitable release. Completely beside herself, she couldn't think, and she didn't care anymore about trivial matters such as pride and power. The Judge's touch demoted her to apathy toward everything that wasn't her impending orgasm.


The Justice' eyes perforated Emma's whispering ones. "You will come now, Emma," she proclaimed with rasping voice, and that was all it took.

Within Emma's eyes, the Justice beheld a whisper evolving into silent speech and then into a mute scream. Emma's climax was so intense it was an electric storm; a gushing surge of energy so powerful it left her unable to even give voice to her ecstatic rapture. As her release overtook her, she remained voiceless, urgently digging her nails into her Lord's muscled shoulders, excreting the progeny of her mind-blowing pinnacle onto the Justice's hand.

Emma felt her Lord discharge her boiling fluids onto her buttocks. She pressed her bare twin globes into the Judge's crotch as if to glue herself to her Warrior by the sticky substance.

Their orgasm seemed endless in depth and length. The starved Judge crashed her lips against Emma's, and kissed them omnivorously as they rode the last waves.

When the last tremors and quivers subsided, their passionate kiss ended, and the Judge was about to extract herself from her Lady. Emma placed a stopping hand above the Judge's. "Not yet," she whispered indulgently, glowing from her own satiated state, "Stay inside me."

Dark tempestuous eyes bore profoundly into lighter moist ones and rendered tender placating words like "I've missed you," flattering like "You'll always be the most beautiful, the most prized in my eyes", caressing like 'Have you any idea how precious you are to me?!', intoxicating like "I'm besotted with you' and inconceivable like "I love you" . All remained barred behind pursed lips. The Justice was tongue-tied.

After some time, the Justice's stare was too fraught for the Lady to carry, "Make an effort to stifle your Wagnerian snoring, Dear," she eventually said, turning her back to the Justice and nestling between her strong encompassing arms.

"Just be grateful I'm not a sexsomniac, Princess, " the Justice retaliated and further anchored her embrace around the Lady's flawless figure.

It was their way, one must understand. Ironically enough, those banters were the safe space between them, the demilitarized zone, a terrain in which they both could venture freely with no substantial consequences to their hearts and to their sense of unyielding pride. But that night the usual spiky mordant edges were oddly absent from their voices. They both sounded like two actors reading from a script, in which neither had any genuine interest reciting, as if being snared in a play neither wished to partake.

Before she blew out the candle burning on the nightstand, the Murky Lovelorn looked one last time into the equivocator's azure eyes. Have we no need for those words? The Lord Justice pondered. Is what I'm seeing sufficient?

Just as she was about to enter the kingdom of dreams, as she was lying there in the dark feeling Emma's warm body stir against hers, the Justice heard an unintelligible murmur slipping out of the slumbering beauty's drowsy lips. She wondered what devious dreams her Lady must dream, what subterfuges she must weave, and a soft smile lit up her dark features.

As Emma subsided deeper into halcyon sleep, the Justice came to terms with the fact that she was nothing more than a dissembler. Love covers a multitude of sins, and hers was profane and evidently obfuscating at that. Hers had almost made her lose her Realm, but in fact, it had cost her a great deal more than power and status. Being guilty of obstruction of justice, subornation of perjury, tampering with evidence, breaking and entering, theft, and circumventing the law -- it had cost her who she was, what she stood for, and even though contrition wasn't in her nature, it had been detrimental to her tenet, and had tinged her with one of the traits she detested the most -- Hypocrisy.

'Just-ass' should be the eponym of her own type of Justice. The fact that 'Assassin' had not one but two 'asses' in it brought her little consolation.

Her relationship with the Lady, or rather the abomination that was her emotions, distorted her into an aberrant creature castrated of her direst brutality, in which she couldn't recognize herself, and with which she wouldn't reconcile.

At journey's end, endowed with what she had come to learn to be the truth, a morose Judge sensed an agonizing fluttering in her heart. She ruefully placed her large hand above her hard chest, thinking ' Butterflies don't live in ghettos…Is it killing time yet?


The End


*** The lyrics are Alanise Morissette's "Uninvited" with the changing of a few words to suit my purpose.

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