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Wednesday was unimpressed.
“Your grip is sloppy.”
She circled around Enid like a vulture, boots echoing across the marble. Enid stood in the center of the training room, blade in hand.
“It’s a knife, not a sandwich.. and stop holding it like it might hurt you.”
Enid exhaled. “You know, you could say something nice once in a while.”
Wednesday’s brow arched.
“I could. But you’d never improve that way.”
The blade in Enid’s hand twitched.
“Again,” Wednesday commanded. “Throw it.”
Enid promptly did. It hit the outer ring of the dummy. Again. Not center.
Wednesday clicked her tongue subtly, folding her arms over her chest.
“A disappointment, but a predictable one.”
Enid turned slowly. Her gaze was suspiciously calm.
“You don’t think I can do this.” She said. Not a question.
“…I think you’re a walking serotonin overdose who has no business near sharp objects.” Wednesday stepped closer.
“And I think you like me correcting you. I think it makes you excited.”
Enid didn’t blink for a moment.
Then, the knife was suddenly in her other hand, and she was pushing Wednesday up against the wall.
“You don’t think I’m capable? Fine. Let’s see how good you are when you’re put to the test.”
Enid’s voice was a growl as she raised the blade to Wednesday’s throat.
Wednesday actually froze. Not from fear, or even how fast it happened. It was from how fucking good it felt.
The metal at her neck was sharp — cold.
She simply exhaled.
And then smiled. Wide. Lazy. Hungry.
“There she is.”
Enid didn’t back off, but now her thigh was pressing up between her legs — enough to make Wednesday’s hips jolt from the friction.
Enid leaned in, fangs close to Wednesday’s cheek.
“You think you scare me?”
The words were all bite and heat and controlled rage.
“You don’t need a lesson in form. You need a lesson in submission, Wednesday.”
Wednesday’s eyes fluttered closed at that treacherous word.
Enid dragged the blade slowly down her throat, grazing her sternum, and then lower. Over her shirt. Between her ribs. Settling on her stomach.
She wasn’t cutting. Just marking.
Like she could feel how badly Wednesday wanted to be carved open.
“Get on the mat.” Enid said, her gaze concentrated.
Wednesday didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
So Enid grabbed her.
Threw her down onto the padded mat like she weighed nothing at all.
Wednesday hit the floor with a gasp — half from the impact, half from the burning rush of arousal that came instantly with it.
Enid was on her before she could recover.
Knee slotted between her thighs. One hand fisting her shirt, the other pulling her belt loose.
Wednesday arched up into it.
“Don’t hold back.”
Enid just smirked in response.
“You’re not going to be saying that anymore when I’m done with you.”
The sound of Wednesday’s leather belt slipping through the loops was a satisfyingly harsh tug.
Enid didn’t even fumble.
Wednesday’s skirt was peeled down her thighs and ripped off her ankles. Her underwear wasn’t removed, just tugged aside like they were in the way.
The knife never left her skin. It rested against her stomach, as if warning her to stay still.
Enid sat back, straddling one of Wednesday’s thighs to keep her in place. And then — with authority, she ran her fingers slowly up the inside of Wednesday’s thigh.
Wednesday flinched. Not from fear though, never from fear. From desperation.
Her breath hitched as Enid’s fingertips brushed the slick heat between her legs.
Enid hummed in satisfaction.
“You’re soaked.”
She didn’t sound surprised. Like she’d known all along that Wednesday would fold like this.
Wednesday sharply turned her head — like she could pretend she wasn’t blushing all the way down to her shoulders.
“I’m merely physiologically responsive to threat.”
Enid leaned in, baring her fangs in a dark grin.
“Then you must feel so fucking threatened right now.”
Wednesday gasped as two fingers pushed in deep, no hesitation. It was unrelenting.
“Enid- Fuck-”
“No. You don’t get to be in charge right now.”
She curled her fingers just right, dragging them against the spot that made Wednesday visibly bite back a moan and then recoil in humiliation.
And then she stopped. Fingers still inside. Enid could’ve swore she almost heard a whimper.
“Beg.”
Wednesday’s lips parted, hips jerking involuntarily. But Enid held her down, keeping the knife pressed against her belly like a threat.
“I said beg.”
Enid’s voice was low, calm. Final. Her fingers stayed buried deep and unmoving, palm pressed hard against Wednesday’s clit.
The silence between them was intimidating.
“No.”
Wednesday said, though the words were weak and her jaw was clenched.
Enid raised a brow. Still didn’t move.
“No?” She echoed back. “After all that attitude?”
She twisted her wrist just slightly. The pressure inside shifted perfectly. It made Wednesday’s hips jerk. But she didn’t speak.
“Still too proud, huh?” Enid whispered. She leaned down, close to Wednesday’s ear. The knife at her stomach slid lower, just above her pelvic area.
“Then you’ll just stay right here, dripping and still until I’m satisfied.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t let up even a little.
Seconds dragged on. Wednesday’s teeth were gritted, her thighs twitching with the effort of trying to stay still. Trying not to grind up into her.
But Enid waited.
And kept waiting.
Realistically, it was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours to Wednesday. She broke.
“Please…” She whispered, barely audible.
Enid didn’t move.
“Louder.”
Wednesday’s lip curled — she was humiliated. But so wet she was aching.
“Please. Please touch me.”
Enid smirked.
“You’re going to cum for me so fucking hard.”
She slammed her fingers in — deeper than before. Moving hard, fast, without mercy. Her palm ground against her with consistent rhythm now, wet and perfect.
“F-Fuuuck- Enid-”
Wednesday let out a series of broken moans and whimpers that surprised and embarrassed even herself. Her body arched and jerked, desperately meeting Enid’s hand.
“Look at you,” Enid whispered. “All that snark, and now you’re just a mess on my hands.”
Wednesday moaned — high pitched and almost angry. Her nails clawed at the mat beneath her, thighs clamped around Enid’s hand. And still she chased it, chased every movement.
“Cum.” Enid growled. Her voice was sharp and commanding, a tone Wednesday rarely ever heard from her.
“Fucking cum for me, Wednesday.”
The knife was pressing into the side of her thigh now, causing her to sharply inhale.
Wednesday shattered beneath her.
Her back arched off the mat, thighs shaking. A sob caught in her throat. Her orgasm tore through her hard and fast, but Enid didn’t stop.
Fingers still thrusting deep, curling just right, dragging against every sensitive, pulsing spot that still screamed from her release. Her palm was grinding against her clit like it wasn’t already too much.
Wednesday’s hips jerked hard, trying to pull away-
Enid grabbed her thigh and slammed it back down.
“Don’t fucking move.”
Wednesday whimpered. The sound was unrecognizable.
“I c-can’t- fuck- I- Enid-”
Her voice was utterly wrecked. A new kind of torture is what this was, surely.
“You can.”
Enid responded calmly, and she did.
Enid fucked her through the aftershocks, through the trembling and the pleading and the way her body spasmed. And then without warning — Wednesday came again.
Screaming. Biting her own hand to stay quiet. Completely ruined.
Enid slowed just slightly enough to make the next words feel cruel:
“That’s two.”
Wednesday’s whole body twitched. Her head shook. No more.
Enid kissed her, swallowing every breathless moan as her fingers kept going.
Wednesday broke. And this time, Enid let her fall.
She pulled her hand free, palm slick and fingers dripping. She dragged the blade up the center of Wednesday’s chest, not cutting — just reminding.
Enid watched her breathe, shallow and uneven, utterly spent.
Wednesday was barely conscious with her mouth parted and her pupils blown, but still looking up at her like she was starving.
Enid licked her lips. “Good,” she muttered. “You’re not done yet.”
She swung one leg over Wednesday’s head and straddled her face.
Wednesday’s eyes widened at the movement, as though to silently say 'yes, finally, please.'
Enid hovered there for half a second just to watch her squirm. Then she lowered herself down.
Wednesday moaned into her. The sound vibrated through Enid’s thighs like a prayer.
She gripped Enid’s hips immediately, fingers digging in as she pulled her closer. Devoured her. Sloppy. All tongue and spit and filth. Like absolutely nothing else mattered and if she died like this, it’d be enough.
Enid gasped.
“Shit- Wednesday-”
But Wednesday didn’t let up, not even a pause. She sucked, she groaned — she fucking ate.
Enid trembled above her. Her hands twisted into Wednesday’s dark hair like she needed something to hold onto or she’d combust.
“Fuck- you’re such a-” A moan. A visible shiver. “You’re so good at this-”
Wednesday growled in response, muffled by flesh and soaking heat.
Her grip on Enid’s hips tightened as her mouth dragged another moan out of her and another.
Enid started rocking.
Fucking herself on Wednesday’s mouth now.
“Yes- yes, just like that- fuck- Wen-”
She came hard, thighs shaking, hands clawing down Wednesday’s ribs. The sound she made wasn’t even human.
And Wednesday didn’t stop. Not even when Enid collapsed forward, panting and twitching.
Enid tried to move — but Wednesday’s hands locked tight around her thighs.
And all Enid could do was ride it out, another orgasm building. Too fast. Too much. As Wednesday Addams ate her like it was her dedicated job.
And even after another reality-shattering orgasm, the room was still spinning.
Enid slumped sideways onto the mat, legs twitching and face flushed. She barely had the strength to move.
Wednesday remained beneath her for a moment longer — lips slick and glistening, eyes closed. She finally shifted, pulling her mouth away with a sickeningly satisfied breath through her nose.
She didn’t say anything. She just wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.
Enid collapsed beside her with a grin.
“So… you good?” She teased.
Wednesday didn’t answer. Instead, she sat up — started putting her clothes back on like a disoriented ghost.
Enid smirked. “You gonna say thank you, or…?”
Wednesday glanced over with a flat look. It was completely under shadowed by the way her hand shook as she buttoned up her skirt.
“That was entirely inefficient,” she muttered. “You ruined my tactical thought process.”
Enid chuckled, rolling onto her back.
“Sure. That’s why you came three times and begged me not to stop.”
Wednesday’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“Twice.”
Enid turned her head to grin at her.
“Oh? so you were counting.”
Wednesday didn’t respond. Just stood, walked over to where the knife had fallen, and picked it up with as much of the dignity she had left.
“You held it incorrectly, by the way. During the third- incident.”
Enid sat up, cheeks still flushed. “Uh-huuuuh. I’ll be sure to improve next time. If you survive it.”
Wednesday hesitated — then awkwardly peeled off her jacket and draped it over Enid’s shoulders.
Enid blinked. “What’s this?”
“You’ll catch a cold,” Wednesday said sharply, already walking away. “And I have no desire to share a bed with a shivering convalescent.”
She paused at the door.
“…You did perform adequately.”
Enid laughed in response. “You’re welcome, Wends.”
Wednesday didn’t look back — knew that Enid would return to the dorm before their usual bedtime rituals, but she did realize something.
She’d never wanted to be intentionally hurt more in her life by anyone.
The thought made her grin.