A/N: This is a girl/girl BDSM-themed fic. It began as a oneshot that went way too long, so I decided to break it down into smallish chapters. I don't write PWP, so there is some build up here and not much 'action' so to speak, and there will be a LOT of that on the other side of their night of play since I am a major proponent of responsible aftercare when playing, and the characters had a mind of their own. I personally get into these kind of situations the most when they are loving and not completely devoid of emotion. If you are looking for a straight D/s fic, this is not it – these characters are in love and dabble when they need/want.
I own nothing except my dirty little mind. All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.
How long had I been in love with Rose? Maybe since the first day I met her.
Even though my head was tilted down, my eyes closed, I could see her. The image in my memory was just as clear as the first time I'd seen her. She was taller than me, at least 5'8", maybe 5'9". Her physical presence was, of course, stunning. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, ending just at the bottom of her shoulder blades. I knew those shoulders like I knew the back of my own hands, having worshipped them properly over the years. I could see Rose's eyes clearly as well, their beautiful, vibrant blue teetering on the edge of violet. They held so much love for me, yet so much delicious cruelty as well.
As I roamed the image in my mind from head to toe, I stopped to pause at her hands. The first time I took one in my own, I was surprised by the softness of her grip. She wasn't out to establish anything with the handshake, just one person meeting another. When her hand slipped away from mine that first time, fingers extending our time touching as they grazed mine as long as possible, I made a mental note to send Alice a thank you gift; I wasn't sure just flowers would be adequate.
I wasn't allowed to get too deep into the memory of meeting Rose when I felt her hand on my head.
"My Pet, have you been good today?" she asked.
"Have you done as I asked?"
"Yes, Mistress," I said, trying to hide my excitement.
Rose and I played frequently; we lived together and most people saw us as a couple, but what they would never know was that we had a room in our house dedicated to more... colorful escapades together. In our daily lives, no one would never guess that either of us would relinquish or absorb entire control to the other.
I was kneeling on the hard cement floor, my bottom resting on my heels. I sat naked, hands folded together in my lap, roughly in the center of the room. To one side of me, there was a closet, dresser next to the bed on the other side. Her shoes were in front of me, the patent leather shining and spotless, just as I'd left them in the closet after my last cleaning. I could smell the latex dress she was wearing, the aroma taunting my senses. I could almost feel the soft, silky smooth texture of it underneath my fingers.
"Such a good Pet," she said, stroking my hair.
I smiled, even though she would never see it. Having Rose pleased with me was one of the best feelings in the world; the highest of highs.
"Spread your legs and let me see that you've complied," she ordered. Her voice hadn't yet reached the harsh tone that told me we were deep into our fun.
I moved my knees on the cold, hard floor, spreading them slightly as I straightened my back so that she still had a good enough view. Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked behind me.
"On all fours."
Leaning forward, I spread my fingers out before they touched the floor. My knees would hurt in the morning, but I couldn't help but hope other parts of me would ache as well. The pain was well worth the pleasure and Rose always made it up to me.
She was meticulous and methodical. When we first began seeing each other, our meetings were nothing more than a series of questions and answers. Our first several meetings were at Rose's house; these weren't the kind of questions you wanted asked at Starbucks. She was always a very kind hostess as we sat on the couch discussing the most intimate of details. How many women could ask if you wanted a cup of tea after asking how you felt about fisting? In short, she was my dream girl.
I always knew I was submissive. I always knew I would have to repress it.
I never imagined I'd meet someone to fulfill the fantasies tangling up like cobwebs in my brain, and at the same time, fall in love with them and live my own happily ever after. We talked about boundaries, limits, children, our jobs, what the "deal breakers" in a relationship (sexual, dominant and romantic) were.
There was never any need to hide things from Rose because, in the beginning, I was so sure that she was only keeping me as a sub until she was done with me. Our conversations were filler; a time to get to trust each other and know each other better. Imagine my surprise when she asked to be my girlfriend after a particularly intense scene together. I had no idea how to respond. If she wanted to be my lover or my Mistress, I wanted everything and anything she would give me.
A date with Rose was an odd thing at first; I wasn't sure if I was expected to keep myself in my role at all times. Thankfully we had scheduled a weekly time to talk openly and freely, so the Friday after we'd gone out on our first date, I asked. I might have been the sub, but that didn't mean that I was going to live with uncertainty and ambiguity.
We discussed how things might progress, what kind of relationship we might have. Rose explained that outside of the walls of our playspace, I was my own person and she expected me to behave as such. It was a relief. I never wanted to push aside who I was for someone, I just wasn't sure I could find that one magic person to be with.
"Lean forward so I can look at your beautiful bare pussy, Pet."
Doing as she requested, I crossed my ankles and arms, resting my forehead on them. Position number five. I fucking loved position number five.
Because Rose was so detailed and we spent the first few months getting to know each other, this also meant that I learned her expectations of me. Part of the expectations were that I was to memorize several positions and poses. She didn't number them, that was my own doing, but she explained each of them in detail. She would position my body, fully-clothed, as my mind etched it into memory for later.
"Mmm, they did a good job today, Pet. I think you might deserve a reward."
I had gotten to know my waxer very well; I mean, the poor girl was already closer to me than most people would be, I might as well make friends with her, right? What else were you supposed to talk about as someone spreads warm wax on your labia and then rips it off? I explained to her that my partner had certain preferences and asked her to be extra thorough. I felt my nipples tighten as Rose expressed her pleasure and hinted at the possibility of a reward.
Rose ran the pad of her fingertip around the outside of my pussy. I had to fight to keep the shiver of pleasure inside.
"It's been a long time since I've had to exercise such self-control. Looking at your delicious cunt staring me in the face, I want to bury myself in you," she said. Her voice had taken on a light, breathy quality. "I want to lick you slowly and then fuck you with my tongue until you scream and beg for your release. But not yet, my sweet, not yet."
The sound of her heels echoed through the room again. She was somewhere off to my side, the closet, maybe? My mind raced. I'd organized the closet to her exact specifications after we agreed that she would take me on as her sub. She had sections for each variety of toy she liked to use – there were pegs on the walls to hang her spanking, slapping and flogging toys, a locked box for insertables, a jewelry box type small chest for clamps and clips. Her various outfits hung neatly on the bar above, shoes organized in a rack on the floor.
The contrast of my Mistress downstairs and Rose upstairs snuggled into my lap was striking in these moment. Upstairs, we had friends over, threw dinner parties, cuddled together and had sweet, loving sex together in our bed.
Rose's shoe tapped rhythmically on the ground as I imagined her with a finger from one hand at her chin, fingers from the other hand gliding over the implements she knew that I loved the most as she made her selection. She always knew the importance of a warm up before really pushing us deep into a scene; it sometimes took a few minutes to let go of my day and get into the proper headspace. I hoped she'd seen and felt what a shitty day I'd had, and knew I would need more beginning time than usual.
She made her way back to me and I felt the falls, the soft, velvety suede falls of my favorite flogger, stroking my back. Each of the 36 strands went a different direction, coaxing and caressing a different spot of skin on my back as she slid it up my raised ass.
The impact was soft, gentle after her next swing. A light thud could be heard through the room and I stifled a moan. I knew it was critical to hold in my sounds, movements, and reaction of any kind at this point. I desperately needed my Mistress to continue. I dared not break the rules. Once she had warmed me up properly, she would give me permission to speak my pleasure, but not yet.
The flogger fell to my backside again, slightly harder. I shifted my face to the right for a brief moment so that I could breathe the fresh, cool air, desperate for anything to help me maintain my composure. As the shuddering breath left my body, I moved so that my forehead was resting once again on my arms.
"Are you okay, my Pet?"
"Yes, Mistress," I whispered, thankful for her constant attention to me.
The sting of the next stroke from the flogger told me she'd used a much more intense flick of her wrist. My body ached, the tips of the falls tickling my bare, exposed lower half. Some hit my pussy, some hit my ass, several hit my thighs. She knew that by angling the flogger she could get a different sensation; the sting of the tips versus the thud of the middle. Both were pleasurable sensations for me.
I felt myself letting go. My shoulders eased against my forearms. I pulled in quick, easy breaths.
She dangled the ends of the flogger against my skin, tickling a path across my ass up my hips and back, giving a playful swat at each side of my shoulders. She brought the suede back down a similar path, the full weight and length of the tails against my skin now. The soft material both tickled and mesmerized me.
As she drew the flogger away from my skin, I could hear the air swoosh and knew it was going to be a harder smack. I swallowed lightly, took in a breath, and waited for impact.
The body of the flogger hit with a thud and it wasn't nearly as bad as I had prepared myself for. She flicked her wrist from the other direction and brought the tips across me, quickly after the heavier hit. I tensed, which I was sure she noticed.
Her hand ran across my ass in a soothing motion, then followed the same path up my back the flogger had. I felt her warm body behind me, one hand planted on the ground next to me, as she curled against me. Her other hand snaked across my body and underneath to cup my breast. Her breath caressed my ear before her words registered in my brain.
"I love to see your muscles tense under me. Watching that little patch of pain and redness spread across your body, seeing you try to anticipate what I am going to do next. I'm feeling extra naughty today, Pet, and it seems like you had a hard day, too. I'm going to go a little farther than usual, a little harder than usual. Please don't forget all of your limits and be honest with me when I check in with you."
She placed a soft kiss in between my shoulder blades and waited for me to acknowledge her words.
It was all I could eke out with the pinching and rolling she was doing to my nipple, the heat of her sex pressed against me, teasing me with thoughts of pleasure to come, both hers and mine.