Chapter Text
Being a Danforth required you to wear many masks. When you married Titus, you knew you would have to juggle the duality of being a cult member and socialite. A perfectly normal, doting trophy wife to broader society. But that’s not what you were, not really. People often whispered about your and Titus’ relationship. How you, the woman who organized charity galas with a genuine smile, ended up with the Danforth heir everyone was afraid of. A cruel man who bristled at anyone who looked at him too long, soothed with a brush of your fingers against his bicep. The most curious part was that Titus was apparently infatuated with you. He wouldn’t allow you to stray from his side during events. He took you with him on his business trips. Most of Titus’ colleagues laughed about how well he had control over you. What a good, obedient little wife you were. And Titus laughed with them. Because they had no idea that it was you who controlled him.
Your outward appearance was extremely curated. Both you and Titus had a role to play, afterall. Both your public and private-ish moments involved prying eyes and positions of power. It wasn’t until you two were truly alone that the masks of the Danforths slipped and you settled into your true personalities. Unfortunately, you were too busy preparing yourself for the night ahead to notice Titus didn’t feel like putting that mask on quite yet.
You sat in front of your vanity in the closet, warm light spilling from behind the mirror. You blinked at yourself as you fiddled with the backs of your favorite jewel earrings, an anniversary gift from your husband. Once they were secured, you gave yourself a once-over. The black dress you wore shimmered with every minute movement. A stunning outfit that would dazzle everyone at the gala. It was to be expected, of course, that you would be the best-dressed couple in attendance. It didn’t matter that the fabric itched at the sensitive skin of your stomach and your makeup was already starting to make your eyes water and you had that weird energy flowing through you- one of a long night that was just beginning. Because you were a Danforth, and you were expected to be above such trivial things as physical discomfort. The gala was for some museum and Titus had made an extremely generous donation. You had required it of him after he lost his temper and snapped the neck of one of the waitstaff. A penance of sorts. Titus had tendencies that you didn’t always care for. He was mostly good, but when he slipped up (accidentally or intentionally), you always made him atone in one way or another. That was the leash you kept him on. The museum had been so honored at the sum of the donation that they had named you the guests of honor at their annual fundraising event. Of course, any event the Danforths attended was worthwhile, and they had been giddy to learn that you accepted the invitation. It didn’t matter that Titus didn’t want to go, and you weren’t particularly enthused, but you would drag the man by the ear if necessary. If Titus didn’t want to be philanthropic, he should learn to keep his hands to himself.
“Are you ready?” The rumbling voice came from the doorway to your closet. Your eyes flicked sideways to catch the sight of Titus leaning against the frame, face relaxed in boredom. He wore a black three-piece suit, tie matching the color of your earrings. He had shaven that morning, much to your chagrin, and you could see the frown lines the stubble usually covered. You could see the curls perfectly arranged along his neck. You cast your gaze down to the vanity table. If you looked at him for any longer, you’d never show up to that event. You forced yourself to swallow the hum of appreciation for his appearance. Instead, you rolled on some of your perfume on your wrists and dabbed them to your neck. You gave him a smile.
“I just need to put on my shoes.” You stood from the vanity stool and crossed the closet. ‘Closet’ was an understatement, honestly, and you stood at the shelves of heels lining the wall with a thoughtful pout. Your thumb brushed against your painted lips as you considered. You turned to Titus. “Which ones should I wear?” He pushed himself off the surface and entered the closet. As he stood beside you, you could smell his cologne and you took a subtle deep breath. Your thumb covered the smile that twitched at your mouth. He only wore that one when he was in a…specific mood. He knew how it settled heavy in your brain and made your mouth water. You watched his profile as his eyes scanned the lines of heels. Titus let out a little grunt when he made his decision. He reached up and looped a single finger through the loops of the shoes, bringing them down to you.
“These ones.” He said simply, letting them dangle from his index finger. You nodded approvingly. They were one of your favorite pairs. The Tom Ford Padlock sandals. They were sleek, a smooth black leather strap to wrap around your ankle and a golden metal stiletto. They were the first pair of shoes you had purchased with Titus’ card. It had been a battle for him to convince you to, please, spend his money on things you wanted. It made him feel needed. You had, a bit spitefully, gone to the most upscale clothing store and looked to buy the most ridiculously priced item. You liked the contrast of the gold and the black, but your favorite part was the little padlock and key charm that dangled from the ankle strap. You thought it was cheeky, considering you had sold your soul to the devil during your wedding and interlinked yourself and Titus for all of eternity. You were truly locked to him. When you saw the price, you deemed the pair perfect for your plan. You had shown Titus that night, assuming he would scoff at them, call them ridiculous or overpriced or gaudy or something. But when you explained the reasoning behind the charm and modeled them for him, he became insatiable. He fucked you five times that night, all while assuring you that, yes, you were his forever and demanding the heels stayed on. Safe to say they were his favorite pair, too, and if he had to be stuck playing socialite for the evening, you could at least indulge him in this.
“Good choice.” You went to reach for the shoes, but he pulled back slightly before you could grab them. Your brow furrowed slightly and your eyes searched his face for an explanation.
“May I?” Titus’ voice was soft and a little vulnerable. His pupils were a little wider than they had been only a few moments ago. Understanding cleared your hazy mind. Right. You knew that look. You smothered a smirk and nodded. You walked back over to your vanity and sat on the stool, hands in your lap and feet dangling slightly. Titus followed dutifully behind you, mouth set in a firm line and fingers clutching the shoes tightly. He held your gaze as he lowered himself to his knees, adjusting his position so that he kneeled directly in front of you. He took one of the heels and brought it to your foot, licking his bottom lip in the way he always did before starting on an extremely important task. You slipped your foot into the heel. You raised your leg and pressed the shoe directly into the center of his chest, leaning back slightly so that you could look down at him. Titus looked up at you with reverence, awaiting your command. You felt his heart hammering beneath the sole. You tilted your head and gave a small nod. Titus’ fingers brushed against the smooth skin of your thighs and ran them down to your ankle before clipping the golden buckle securely closed. He gently set your foot down to the ground and repeated the action with the other shoe. Titus was slow and deliberate in his movements, enjoying every moment he was able to care for you like this. It was a state he only entered when you shared true privacy, a moment of soft devotion allowed only for one person in the entire universe: you.
When he finished with the second shoe, he gripped the meat of your calf and brought your leg up to his face. He gently brushed his lips against the padlock charm before kissing your soft skin that smelled of your body lotion. He looked up at you from under his eyelids, a silent plea.
“Thank you, Titus,” you said sweetly, running the edge of your shoe against his chin. His eyes fluttered at the contact and you saw his hands ball into fists on his thighs. “Very well done.” You tapped your finger to your chin in faux consideration. “Think you deserve a reward?” Titus’ eyes snapped open again, excitement flashing through the hazel circles.
“Please.” The word was barely audible. He swallowed as you dragged your heel slowly from his chin down the center of his chest. The lapels of his suit jacket rose and fell rapidly with each of his panting breaths. You could hear the air entering and leaving his nostrils as his eyes followed the black leather shoe. You ran it down his center slowly, tantalizingly so. Until you rested the flat part of the sole against his crotch. There was already a bulge beginning to form and you felt the soft hardness of his dick beneath his zipper. You pressed your heel into it. Titus’ breath hitched and you felt him get harder beneath the pressure. You stepped on his bulge harder, until you were actively crushing his length beneath your foot. Titus let out a small whimper, knuckles whitening with how hard he was balling his fists. “H…Har-” you didn’t let him finish before jerking your foot down, forcefully kicking him between the legs. Titus sucked in a breath and doubled over. A little pained groan was pulled from his chest and his hands clutched around your ankle. But he didn’t push you away. Instead, he pulled your foot down closer against him. He was leaning so far forward that his forehead was resting against your leg. You twisted your heel against him like one would squish a bug, the metallic stiletto running against his inner thigh. You saw a tear slip from Titus’ eye.
“Aw,” you tutted, condescension dripping from the word. “Too much?” You pressed slightly harder. Titus swallowed thickly and looked up at you with wet eyes.
“N-No.” He said. His voice was strained, but you felt his cock throb under you. “Thank you.” You hummed and checked the watch on your wrist.
“We’ve got to go, baby,” you said, voice soft. You pried his hands from your ankle and gave a kiss to his forehead, running your thumb along his cheek to collect the stray tear. Titus nodded and you brought him to a standing position by his wrists. You stayed sitting, eye level with his now very obvious erection. You ran your nose up the ridge and placed a kiss on his tip. You could smell the intoxicating mixture of his cologne and the warm, heady smell of his precum pooling in his boxers. Titus let out another whimper and went to rest his hand on your head, but you slapped it away, giving him a glare. He pouted. You ignored him and stood up. You were flush against his chest and you smoothed your hands against his chest, straightening his tie. “If you behave tonight, maybe I’ll consider letting you cum later.” You murmured, flashing him a saccharine smile. Titus shivered.
“Yes ma’am.” He promised.
“Good boy.” You entwined your arm with his and gestured for him to lead you out of the room. He blinked hard and clenched his jaw, shaking his head. It was going to be a long night.