Free as a Jailbird

TITLE: Free as a Jailbird
AUTHOR: WotanAnubis
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters and am not making a profit.
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Lana/Ema (kinda)
NOTE: Just a rather short piece of (semi-)incestuous smut. I think I may need some more practise on drawing out masturbation scenes, though.


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Lana Skye lay on top of her bunk, staring at the ceiling. It was completely dark in her small, single-person cell, with only the occasional faint hint of moonlight streaming in through the window whenever the clouds moved out of the way. She couldn't help but smile faintly. The walls were thick, the door locked tight and if she did manage to get out of her cell there would be men and women with guns waiting for her no matter how minimum-security this prison was.

And yet... she felt free.

Oh, her body was locked away, but her mind was free to wander wherever it may go. It was such a strange experience. She had policed her own mind for years, always keeping a tight leash on what she could and could not think, what she could and could not feel. Now, here in prison, those restraints had all fallen away and she could think whatever she wanted.

She thought about Ema.

She always thought about Ema. She couldn't not. Ema defined her, her mere existence influencing her every action. The reason she wanted to become a prosecutor in the first place had been an intense desire to make the world a safer place for her. And now that Gant's shadow no longer loomed over her sister, Lana actually felt... happy.

She was locked up and Ema was half a world away, but that didn't matter. From the letters her sister so frequently wrote, Lana easily gathered that Ema was happy and that her studies were going very smoothly indeed. That fact alone was enough for her to be content, even if she would never see her sister again and she spent the rest of her life in jail. But the fact that Ema also always wrote how much she missed her and how much she wanted her back in her life made Lana's soul hurt and her heart sing. Her sister probably had no idea how significant that casual Love ya, Ema she always ended her letters with was to her.

If she were free, Lana was quite sure she would have considered such a declaration merely an obvious sign of sibling affection and would very carefully lock away every other implication. But here in jail, she could allow herself to have it mean what she wanted it to mean.

Every single time she read that simple little phrase, Ema kissed her. It could be a simple little peck on the cheek as a greeting, it could be an affectionate kiss on her hand as they watched a movie together, it could even be and exhausted but satisfied kiss after a long night of making love. But whatever the circumstances, her sister's lips always touched her skin.

It was probably a good thing she was locked up, Lana considered. Somewhere out there, Ema was growing up into a truly desirable young woman. It wouldn't do for her to have a sister who secretly wanted her all for herself constantly peering over her shoulder.

Lana's eyes turned away from the ceiling and towards the wall where she had hung Ema's most recent picture. The light was far too poor for her to be able to see it, but she didn't need to. Every single line of her face, every single thread of her clothes (and every single curve visible underneath them) was etched into her memory. Or at least until she next sent a picture along with a letter.

It was her smile. It was so beautiful. And her eyes, sparkling with intelligence and affection. Her hair, so messy and fashioned solely so that would be out of the way. Her hand, always holding the strap of her bag. Her glasses, her ears, her... her everything. All of it. Every inch of her sister was far more precious to her than was reasonably appropriate in modern society. And she didn't care, because right here, right now, she wasn't part of society.

What time was it over there? Morning? Afternoon? What would she be doing? It was Sunday over there, so there wouldn't be any classes. Maybe she was studying. Or maybe...

Lana closed her eyes and tried to relax as best she could. Maybe Ema was having a snack or out with friends. But the image that pushed itself into the forefront of her mind was quite different from any of that.

She imagined Ema lying on her bed, all alone in her room. She was fully clothed and her pants were unbuttoned and unzipped. Her chest slowly moved up and down as she breathed carefully, her hand having only just slipped inbetween her legs although she was already wholly wet with arousal.

Who would she be thinking of? Some handsome young man she had a crush on? Or perhaps she imagined her, Lana, planting featherlight kisses all over her bare skin. Maybe she didn't think of anyone at all, simply enjoying the pleasure her body could give her.

In her mind, Lana could see her sister's hand beginning to move a bit faster, a bit more urgent. Her lips would part as she could no longer stop herself from panting, her face scrunching up in a cute display of her arousal. With her free hand she would pull up her shirt, showing more and more of beautiful body until her gorgeous breasts were exposed to the air. She would hold them, caress them, fondle them, adding more and more fuel to the lustful fire burning ever stronger and brighter inside of her.

Slowly, nearly unheeded, almost unnoticed, Lana's hand slipped into her clothes and reached between her legs, finding herself already wholly wet.

Ema would rub herself faster, more frantically, her pants turning to moans as she imagined it weren't her fingers stimulating her, but her big sister's lips kissing her folds, her tongue occasionally dipping into her. Her back would arch as lust pounded her body, her orgasm frustatingly far away. By now she would be far too aroused to stop or to even contemplate stopping. She would have to come or otherwise masturbate until she collapsed from exhaustion.

Lana bit her bottom lip as took her clit between two fingers. She groaned so softly it might as well have been a sigh.

She was wearing too many clothes, Ema would decide. With an incredible show of will she would manage to withdraw her hands from where they were so she could take off her clothes. But she would be far too frantic with lust to take them off easily, so getting naked would actually take her longer than it normally would. Her clothes would be strewn around the room and Ema wouldn't care that many of them now bore the stains of her arousal wherever she had gripped them with her right hand. She would lie down on her back, her legs obscenely spread, her juices leaking onto the sheets and the light of the sun caressing every inch of her naked body.

But that wouldn't be enough. Ema would get up and walk towards her closet as she felt her fluids slowly trickling down the inside of her thighs. She would open her closet and reach for what she had very carefully hidden inside, even though nobody else ever looked inside it. Her hand would come out holding a smooth, pink dildo that she only used whenever she was so totally overwhelmed with arousal that she thought it might consume her.

She would lie back on the bed, her right hand holding the pink toy, her left hand already stroking her breasts again, her thumb flicking one of her nipples. Spreading her legs, she would press the tip of the dildo against her entrance, then tilting it so that she could rub her pussy against it, making the toy all slick and shiny with her arousal. Then, far more slowly than she really needed to, she would push the fake cock into herself as she groaned lustfully.

Suppressing her moans, Lana slipped a few fingers inside of herself.

Ema would let one long, slow, shuddering breath once the dildo had disappeared almost completely into her, filling her up. Then she would begin pulling it out of herself again, though not completely. Then she would push it in again and pull it out. In and out, in and out, until she had determined a smooth rhythm where she was no longer just moving a dildo, but using the toy to truly fuck herself.

Feeling her pleasure mount, Ema would close her eyes again and let her mind wander into lustful fantasy. Eventually the image would form of Lana, as naked as she was, kneeling between her legs. Her big sister had heroically and romantically broken out of jail and travelled across the globe to be with her, here, now, to show her how great and intimate her love for her was. The hand caressing her breasts was no longer her own, but Lana's, skillfully and expertly playing with them. And she no longer used a dildo to masturbate, but instead it was part of Lana's strap-on and it moved not because of her own hand but because of the movement of her big sister's hips.

Ema would feel the pleasure flooding her, pushing her further and further towards a now inevitable orgasm. A pleasure caused mostly, perhaps, by the toy she used to stimulate herself, but critically enhanced by the belief her sister was actually with her. And then, for one sharp moment, Lana would really be there, clear as day, holding her in her arms, her lips kissing her neck as she thrust into her one last time to--

Lana moaned as the orgasm shuddered through her body. As far as orgasms went, it wasn't a mind-blowing, earth-shattering one, but it was intensely satsifying. For one brief and perfect moment, she had felt... no, she had known Ema would fully accept and even reciprocate the love she felt for her. Of course, it had just been her heated imagination playing tricks on her, but she couldn't shake the warm feeling that her little sister really would want to have her as her lover.

She knew the feeling wouldn't last. Because, obviously, such a feeling should not last.

But right now, here in prison, she was free to treasure that feeling for as long as she could.

=====

Meanwhile, half a world away, Ema Skye, laying on her bed, looked up at the ceiling of her room and sighed. Very slowly she stirred and carefully pulled a pink dildo out of herself. She looked at the toy for a while and noted how it was absolutely covered by her fluids yet again.

Sighing again, Ema lowered her arm, not caring that the dildo now left its sticky coating on her bare stomach.

It just wasn't right. It really wasn't. But she couldn't help herself. It was as though she was simply built that way.

But one day, Ema promised herself, one day she really would finish a letter to her sister in just one sitting.