At first Catherine had dismissed the idea, though truth be told she wasn't opposed to it on moral grounds, and the salary would certainly be more lucrative than what she made as a CSI. But she liked her job, she was damn good at it, and she loved the people she worked with. Yes, even Sara Sidle, pain in the ass that she was.
Then, though, Heather had casually mentioned that even a few hours a month could supplement her income nicely, and the enjoyment she'd get from the mild exposure could be explosive.
Now, as she finished collecting the masks and straws, bagging and tagging them each separately, she turned around and leaned against the sink, one corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk as she caught Lady Heather's attention. "So..."
Heather raised an eyebrow, stopping what she was doing to look at Catherine, watching the way the CSI's lips slowly formed a smirk. Her body language was apprehensive, but her eyes twinkled with confidence. "Yes?" the Lady inquired, staring right into those baby blues.
"Show me the ropes?" Catherine asked, grinning at the look of mild surprise on Heather's face. There was no harm in learning the way of the house, so to speak... she was just looking to gain some firsthand knowledge and keep her options open.
Heather crossed the distance between them and gracefully took Catherine's chin between her thumb and forefinger, applying the subtlest amount of pressure. "Do you know what you're asking, Kitty Cat?"
Catherine's first impulse was to laugh at the nickname, but she quelled it and stood up straighter, leaning into the touch. "I believe I do."
Heather grinned and released her hold. "I believe you do," she agreed, just as Nick stepped in and cleared his throat.
"We're set," he announced, but instead of walking away to leave Catherine to her own devices, he stood in the doorway, waiting for her to follow him.
"Take these back to the lab for me," Catherine said, all business with Stokes as she handed over the armful of plastic bags containing the evidence she'd gathered.
"Maybe you missed it, but you're actually on the team and can transport your own evidence?" Nick pointed out, staring at the pile of bags he now held. "I'm not one of the guys who comes here to be smacked around and told what to do..."
"No, but you are one of the guys that works for me and takes any evidence I damn well tell you to take. I'll catch up with the team tonight. Shift is over in ten minutes anyway."
Nick opened his mouth to respond but seemingly thought better of it and just left, leaving the two women alone.
"Nicely done," Lady Heather commended her new protege. "Follow me."
Catherine stripped off her gloves and tossed them in the trash on her way out of the kitchen after Heather. "I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion," she observed, following the Lady up two flights of stairs and through a locked door which Heather opened with a very ornate key. "What's this floor used for?"
"This is my private domain; I live here," Heather replied, closing and bolting the door behind them. "And don't worry about your clothes, you won't be wearing them long." She moved down the hall and opened a door on the right, pointing Catherine inside. "I hope you won't mind my insisting that you shower, after going through my garbage and playing with forensic powders. You'll find a stack of towels in the cabinet on the left side of the room." She pointed to a fluffy black bathrobe that hung from a hook on the back of the bathroom door. "Take off your clothes and place them in a neat, folded pile on the edge of the sink. When you're through showering, I want you in nothing but this bathrobe."
Catherine felt the first stirrings of nerves and excitement begin as she nodded her head in acceptance of the instructions laid out for her. She was grateful for the opportunity to shower. It would relax her, and make her feel much sexier for what was to come.
At Catherine's wordless nod, Heather smiled a little and stepped closer, lifting a finger beneath the blonde's chin. "Yes, Lady Heather," she said quietly, knowing that Catherine would understand.
Catherine resisted the urge to laugh yet again, and closed her eyes, swallowing hard before repeating the vocal response. "Yes, Lady Heather."
"Very good, Kitty Cat," Heather purred softly, stroking the underside of Catherine's chin a few times before leaving her alone in the bathroom.
Catherine stood staring at the closed door for several long seconds after Heather had retreated from the room. A wry smile tugged at her lips and she started to undress, folding each article of clothing and placing it in a neat pile on the edge of the sink, as instructed, until she was naked and ready to feel the cleansing spray of hot water on her body.
The pulsing cadence of the water hitting her back felt so good, and Heather's shampoo smelled like raspberries and champagne. Surprisingly, it complemented the cherry almond body soap perfectly, and Catherine felt luxuriously pampered as she stepped out of the shower and dried herself off. She wrapped her hair in the towel and slipped the bathrobe on. She was about to open the door when she remembered Heather's exact words, 'nothing but this bathrobe', and she removed the towel from her hair, shaking the blonde locks free, and draped the towel neatly over the shower doors.
Again she moved to open the bathroom door, but hesitated at the last second, calling out Heather's name instead. "Lady Heather?"
The door opened outward to reveal the Lady, whom Catherine was proud to note looked rather pleased.
"You listen well, Kitty Cat... and you're quite intuitive. I knew you'd be perfect for the job," Heather praised the beautiful woman standing naked under her bathrobe. She moved into the room and slid a hand up Catherine's back, curling her fingers into those dripping blonde tresses with a gentle squeeze. "Here's to the beginning of a profitable working relationship..."
Heather leaned close, and Catherine let her eyes drift closed, anticipating a kiss. Looking forward to a kiss. Wanting a kiss. But Heather didn't kiss her... she whispered something instead.
"Have you ever been spanked, Catherine?"
Now that was unexpected, and despite her efforts to the contrary, Catherine felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, her lower lip worried between her teeth as she shook her head.
Heather squeezed her hair just a bit harder, putting her lips just a bit closer to Catherine's. "No, Lady Heather..."
Catherine could feel Heather's breath on her lips. "No, Lady Heather," she quickly answered, making a scientific note in her brain to remember to answer aloud from then on.
"Wonderful. We'll start with that, then," Heather said brightly, releasing Catherine's hair and taking her by the hand, leading her out of the bathroom and down the hall to the right. "You are being honored with the privilege of my inner sanctum," she announced casually as she opened another door and preceded Catherine inside. "This is my bedroom. No clients or employees have ever seen the inside of my personal living space."
Catherine looked around, appreciating the gothic decor and warm, tasteful furniture. The bureau was glossy mahogany, as was the four poster bed frame. Plush dark purple carpet was soft beneath her bare feet and the room was lit by glowing candles in sconces along the walls. Finally her gaze landed upon Lady Heather herself, and she smiled a bit as she had to ask, "why am I so privileged?"
Heather's grin was positively scandalous as she once again curled a fist into the hair at the nape of Catherine's neck, pulling her close. "Because I want to do things to you, Kitty Cat. Things that I would never do to any client or employee... very personal things that involve fingers and tongues without gloves, and dildos without condoms. I want to spank you over my lap instead of chained to a cross, so that I can feel you on my thighs. You've wanted it too, since you walked through the doors into my dominion. If I'm wrong, then by all means speak up, but I make a living reading people, and we both know I'm not wrong... am I?"
Catherine debated lying, simply because she didn't like the thought that she could be read so easily and have her desires laid out before her by someone she hadn't confessed them to. But she didn't. She gave in to the feeling of exposed vulnerability that Heather invoked in her, and hoped that she could return the favor in time. "You're not wrong." A light slap to her cheek surprised her, and her eyes flew open wide, a sharp intake of breath hissing through suddenly clenched teeth.
"How do you answer questions, Kitty Cat?" Heather purred, soothing the slight sting with stroking fingertips.
Catherine racked her brain briefly, cursing at her indiscretion. "No, Lady Heather," she amended her previous response. A beat of silence, and then, "I'm sorry, Lady Heather."
"Are you going to try harder?" Heather leaned in and slowly licked Catherine's cheek with the very tip of her tongue, circling the faint pink tint left by the gentle slap.
Catherine's eyelids fluttered, but she forced them to remain open as she rushed her answer. "Yes, Lady Heather!"
"Good." Heather pulled away. "It's time for that spanking, now." She sat languidly on her fluffy crimson comforter, pleased that Catherine had not moved along with her. "Remove the robe and drape it over that chair," she instructed, nodding toward a rocking chair in one corner of the room.
Even in her time as an exotic dancer, Catherine had never felt so naked as when she slipped the bathrobe from her shoulders and turned, moving to the rocking chair with shaky steps to drape the garment over the back of it. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her pulse racing, her thighs clenched as she stood with her back to Heather, awaiting further instructions.
Heather let her stand there for a good minute, just watching the play of tense muscles in Catherine's sculpted back and shoulders until they relaxed. "Come here."
The CSI took a deep, calming breath and turned, counting the number of steps it took to reach Lady Heather's side, trying desperately to focus on anything other than her nudity and Heather's penetrating gaze.
Heather smirked knowingly. "How many steps did it take?"
Catherine almost groaned at the woman's intuitiveness, and sighed in defeat as she answered. "Five, Lady Heather."
"You have a beautiful body," Heather changed the subject easily, allowing her eyes to rake the other woman's trembling form. "And your ass is divine. I'm wet just thinking about spanking it."
"Oh Jesus," Catherine huffed on an exhale, shooting Heather a steely glare.
"Don't look at me like that. You're here of your own free will. Aren't you?"
Damn her hot temper. She calmed quickly. "Yes, Lady Heather."
"You asked me to show you the ropes, did you not?"
"Yes, I did, Lady Heather."
"Have you changed your mind?"
"No, Lady Heather."
"Then what do you say when I give you a compliment?"
Swallowing was not helping to wet her dry throat. "Thank you, Lady Heather."
"Place yourself across my lap."
That was a request like none other for Catherine, one that made her tingle with anticipation and flush with embarrassment at the same time as she carefully laid over Heather's lap, hoping she was in the right position.
"Why are you being spanked, Kitty Cat?" Heather whispered close to her ear, running her palms up and down Catherine's finely sculpted back and shoulder blades.
"What?" Catherine asked, surprised at the question. "Because I'm learning, right?"
"No," Heather said with a low chuckle. "Invent a reason. Make your fantasy. Why are you being spanked, Kitty Cat?" she asked again.
Catherine blew out a long breath, gripping the comforter as she let her mind wade through possible scenarios, and one fleeting fantasy image sent a shiver of excitement up her spine. Who knew? "Because I skipped Chemistry class, Lady Heather."
Heather slipped effortlessly into the 'professor' role, resting her palm on Catherine's naked backside. "That's right, young lady. This is the second time in a week, and I won't have it. Your potential vastly exceeds that of the other students combined, and you *will* attend class each and every day, is that clear?"
The shiver of excitement that had run up her spine seemed to explode and penetrate every nerve in her body now. "Yes, Lady Heather, I'm sorry."
"Not as sorry as you will be when I'm through spanking you," Heather promised, and with that, she lifted her right hand and began to bring it down rhythmically across Catherine's ass, starting with slow, gentle taps to get her used to the sensation, or 'warmed up'.
"Yes, Lady Heather," Catherine acknowledged, tensing as soon as Heather lifted her hand, but the gentle first smacks that fell allowed her to relax and enjoy the feeling. The way Heather spanked her was frustratingly delicious, working her up slowly to the point where she almost wanted to ask for it harder. The progression from soft to firm was seamless, and soon she was really feeling the sting of each slap, fisting the comforter and rocking her hips to the cadence Lady Heather had set.
Heather gauged the CSI's reactions carefully, and finally felt she was ready for a firmer touch. Her skin was glowing a shade between pink and red, and radiated warmth into the Lady's hand with each blow. She gave each cheek a gentle rub, then raised her arm and brought her palm down solidly, closing her eyes with pleasure at the mewling whimper Catherine let out and the way the CSI struggled not to throw her head back. She landed another punishing slap to the other cheek.
Catherine cried out again, burying her face between her forearms as her body jerked with the blow, her hips pressing firmly against Lady Heather's thighs. She was wet. She was so wet, and in that instant she really understood why people came here for release. They could express themselves without fear of rejection while being spanked or paddled or whipped, and she found herself doing just that, which was much more than she'd expected out of this encounter. "I'm sorry, Lady Heather," she begged, though she didn't know if she wanted the spanking to escalate or wind down. She was glad not to have to make that decision. Lady Heather would make it for her.
Heather pushed her further, tugging on her hair as she increased the force and the speed of her slaps. Catherine was moaning and grinding on her thighs, but she was also crying, and it was that delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that Heather so loved to give.
After drawing it out for several more minutes, Heather wound the spanking down slowly, finally letting her hand rest once more on Catherine's blazing bottom, admiring the beautiful bright red color of that pale, creamy skin. She stroked the crying woman's hair, leaning down to whisper into her ear. "You did good, Kitty Cat."
Compliment. That was a compliment. Could she find her voice? "Thank you, Lady Heather," she managed to reply. Her ass was on fire and she felt so, so good. So liberated. The tears were automatic, purely her body's outlet for the pain - she didn't feel like crying. She was nowhere near upset.
"I trust this punishment has helped you think over your mistakes, and you will attend every class in the future?" Heather asked sternly once she had straightened back up, her palm now rubbing circles over Catherine's inflamed skin.
"Yes, Lady Heather."
Heather's teeth bared in a devious grin, though Catherine couldn't see it. "Are you sure, young lady?" she purred, leaning down once more to put her lips to the CSI's earlobe. "Are you sure you didn't enjoy it enough to skip class again in the hopes of a repeat performance?" Before giving Catherine a chance to respond, she spanked her sharply once and sucked on the earlobe in her mouth. "My skirt is wet."
Catherine yelped in surprise at the smack, but the mouth on her ear quickly grabbed her full attention, and the words hissed into it made her groan. A flush spread over her neck and face, and she moved to get up, embarrassed at her arousal being brought to attention in such a way. She dropped back over Heather's lap when she felt a slender finger slip between her thighs from behind. Her embarrassed flush disappeared at the lustful sound from the Lady above her. Heather groaned.
"Kitty Cat," the Lady breathed, amazed at the amount of slick heat that enveloped her finger before she had even penetrated the woman.
"Ye--uhhhhhhhhh, yes Lady Heather?" Catherine gasped as Heather slid two fingers fully inside her. She had never been so easy. "Fuck, that feels amazing..."
"Hands and knees," Heather growled softly, sliding out from under the blonde as she instantly complied. She had never wanted to fuck someone so urgently. Catherine Willows was very bad for her self control. She hitched her skirt up around her hips and freed her strap-on from her underwear within seconds, and pressed the head between Catherine's legs, burying the entire shaft within her when she heard the woman whimper out a plea to be filled. Very bad for her self control indeed, as her fingernails raked down Catherine's back, leaving angry red scratches in their wake.
Catherine sucked in a shuddering breath, dropping her head between her shoulders, her golden hair falling in front of her face and tickling the sides of her arms as she rocked back and forth onto Lady Heather's dick.
Heather grabbed hold of Catherine's hips and pulled backwards hard, slamming her own forward, sweat beading on her body beneath her clothes. Good thing she didn't have a wall to wall mirror in her bedroom, because she didn't know how she'd react to seeing herself in such a position - on her knees behind Catherine, skirt around her waist, the toes of her high-heeled sandals digging into the place between the mattress and the bedframe to hold her balance. Not to mention her thrusting hips and bleeding mascara, and the marks on Catherine's back and hips. Her marks. Made by her own two hands, not one of her whips. She hadn't done that in years.
Catherine, for her part, graciously and eagerly took everything that Heather gave. She reveled in the painful scratches, knowing her skin would linger beneath the Lady's fingernails, and she would share the Lady's passion for days to come, in the form of ten red lines, raised and tender, across her back. Heather wasn't gentle with her dick, but she was with her hands (putting aside of course the assault with her fingernails). Soft, careful touches grazed Catherine's swollen clit, and she cried out loudly, tossing her head back and bucking first onto the dildo and then down against Heather's fingers. "Please, please," she begged, her heart racing, breath coming in rapid pants.
Heather was lost in the feel of Catherine's responsiveness. So much so that she almost gave in to the very lacking request. She stopped her fingers from pinching at the last second, and instead asked sharply, "excuse me?"
Catherine grunted her displeasure at Heather's response, attempting to force harder contact with her clit by bracing herself up on one hand and grabbing Heather's wrist with the other.
Heather froze, the trance completely broken, Catherine's disobedience settling over her with a bitter taste, and she freed her hand, withdrawing her dick from the CSI and tucking it back into her underwear as she stood from the bed and let her skirt fall back down to flow across her ankles. "No." The word echoed off the walls of her bedroom, sounding stark and clinical compared to the heated lovemaking they had just been engaged in.
Catherine froze as well, realizing what she'd done and why it was wrong in the span of the split second between Heather pulling away and Heather saying 'no'. She had just broken a very cardinal rule, she suspected, and she had no idea what the penance for such a thing would be in a world where spanking wasn't considered a punishment. She wanted to apologize, but it would seem trite, considering she'd already apologized for several other things this afternoon. She remained quiet and frozen on her hands and knees on the bed, until the Lady spoke again.
"Are you allergic to nylon or steel?"
The CSI shuddered. "No, Lady Heather." She heard a drawer opening and the rustle of fabric, but didn't dare turn her head to look toward the source of the sound.
"If you were performing a session as a Dominant, and your submissive sought to control you through force rather than the natural appeal of his or her submission, what would you do?"
"If he or she was new to the game, I'd cut them some slack," Catherine answered automatically, regretting the caustic reply as soon as she'd said it.
"Oh?" Heather asked, raising an eyebrow as she walked around in front of Catherine, stretching a crimson rope between her hands, then fondling it as if it were a lover. "Is that what you think I should do for you, Catherine? Cut you some slack because you're new to the game?"
Catherine thought before speaking this time. Yes, she would *like* the Lady to cut her some slack, but she didn't think the Lady *should*. "I'd be incredibly grateful if you would, Lady Heather," she finally answered without looking up at the woman. "But I understand that you shouldn't."
"On your knees, give me your left hand, palm up," Heather instructed before returning to the subject under discussion. "I should inform you, Catherine, that most of the men and women walking through my doors are not here to play a game. This is not a game to them. I play in my personal life for fun, but on the job, someone's going to get hurt if you don't see eye to eye." She took Catherine's extended hand, looping the nylon rope around her left wrist slowly, enjoying the contrast of crimson against pale ivory. "Other hand."
Catherine listened intently, offering her right hand when instructed, taking in what Lady Heather was saying even as she was quite distracted by the feel of the rope binding her wrist. Why wasn't she nervous about being tied up?
Heather looped the rope around Catherine's right wrist, then brought the two together and bound them securely, tying off the knot and wrapping the excess rope around her own hand, giving a sharp tug.
Catherine fell forward onto her stomach, her arms stretched above her head, reaching just slightly over the edge of the bed. "Struggle."
Did she hear that right? She was being told to struggle? Well, one way to find out. She pulled at the bindings, half-assedly a few times and then once, hard, but nothing gave way.
Heather chuckled, the sound coming from deep in her chest. "I should paddle your ass black and blue for even daring to touch me without permission during a scene."
Catherine couldn't see the look of amusement on Heather's face or, most importantly, in her eyes, and her voice gave away nothing to suggest that she might be joking. Tears sprung to Catherine's repentant blues, but she merely choked out the required response. "Yes, Lady Heather."
Heather didn't miss the body language, and a smirk tugged at her lips as she bent to one knee in front of Catherine, bringing her face close. "But... since you're new to the game, I suppose I should cut you some slack." She licked away the lone tear that had forced its way down the side of Catherine's face. "In the future, if I am ever Topping you again and have allowed you the free use of your hands, don't make me regret it."
"Yes, Lady Heather." Now Catherine could see the look in her eyes, and the butterflies in her stomach went from painful to excited. The Lady was so close... her lips were just a breath away. It would be so easy to kiss her...
"Don't," Heather whispered haltingly, her eyes dancing with danger. But she didn't move away. "Be close to me... look at my eyes, look at my lips, and resist temptation."
God, that was going to be hard. Catherine started to pull her head away, but a firm hand on the back of it stopped her.
"No. I don't want you to *remove* the temptation, Kitty Cat... I want you to *resist* it."
Catherine breathed in hard, her nostrils flaring as she exhaled through her nose. "I don't know if I can."
Heather smirked. "You can. Trust me. Now do it."
The trembling CSI moved her head back into place, struggling to keep her eyes open and stare at Lady Heather's lips. She had never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in her life, and being so close yet not being able to touch almost translated into a physical pain. But she did it. She desired, but she did not take.
Heather realized the dangerous waters she was treading, but the pull was too strong to resist. She watched Catherine closely, tempering her own breathing, and finally the push-back left those bright blue eyes and she could tell that her Kitty Cat understood. And at that moment, Heather kissed her.
Catherine understood the significance of the timing - she gave up complete control over something she wanted, willing to lie there all night long and never get it, just to please Lady Heather, and as soon as she did that, Heather's lips were on hers. She was smart enough to keep her tongue in her own mouth, and opened when Heather demanded it. The silky warmth of perfect crimson lips started a fire in her blood that raged through her, flames licking at every place within her, lighting up dark corners that she didn't know were there. The touch of Heather's tongue to hers was almost too much for her to handle, and she was glad her hands were bound so she didn't have to worry about doing something stupid with them.
Heather knew she shouldn't be kissing Catherine Willows. She knew she shouldn't allow Catherine to kiss her back. But she did. Both hands tangled in Catherine's hair, and she pulled away just long enough to murmur, "kiss me back, Catherine," before she closed her lips over the blonde's once more.
"Yes, Lady Heather," Catherine hummed against insistent lips, opening her mouth and sending her tongue out to tangle with the Lady's. They licked each other, inside Heather's mouth, until neither woman could breathe properly and they had to pull apart.
Heather rested her forehead on Catherine's cheek, collecting her thoughts before dropping a kiss to the warm skin and lifting her head to look at the bound, naked beauty. "I probably don't need to tell you this, but never, *ever* kiss a client, or allow a client to kiss you. Not under any circumstances. It's a very important rule. If a client ever attempts to kiss you, the session should be cut off immediately, as should the client's membership to my dominion." She paused then, grinning knowingly at Catherine and answering the question she knew the CSI would never initiate. "You're not a client."
Catherine licked her lips, savoring the taste of the kiss. "What am I?" she asked curiously.
Heather urged the blonde to roll onto her back, then climbed on top of her, sitting astride her hips. "You're someone I'm very attracted to, on sexual and intellectual levels," she began, "which is rare for me these days. You're not a client, you're not an employee, and as much as the thought is thrilling, you're not my little bitch." She paused to afford Catherine a broad, genuine grin. "I'd say you're my equal. If I weren't teaching you about dominance and submission, you'd never be under me. As it is, I hope I teach you well, because the first person I'm going to offer up on a platter when you're ready to play is myself."
That was a really nice thought, and Catherine tried to pull her hands free from the ropes, making Heather laugh.
"You'll never get out of those unless I free you," the dark-haired woman informed her willing captive.
"I know, but it gives me something to do other than stare at you, Lady Heather."
"Oh, Kitty Cat," Heather sighed, shaking her head with a grin. "Do you want out of the ropes?"
Catherine closed her eyes, breathing in deeply and exhaling through her nose. "No, Lady Heather."
That answer surprised the Lady, and her smile grew brighter. "Oh? What is it you do want, then?"
The CSI opened her eyes again, replying with a wry grin of her own as if the answer should have been obvious. "I want you to make me cum." And at the last second, she quickly added, "Lady Heather."
Heather threw her head back and laughed, thoroughly amused by the woman beneath her. "I should have known." She leaned down and nibbled Catherine's earlobe, whispering into her ear. "If you were a client, I'd exploit that desire and make you wait until you were sobbing and begging for it." She flicked her tongue inside the shell of the pale appendage, then withdrew and retreated until she could look into Catherine's eyes. "But you're a lover, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see you cum. I probably want to see it more than you want to do it." She snatched up the excess rope and tied it swiftly around one of the bedposts, effectively limiting the blonde's range of motion.
Catherine pulled, but her hands didn't go anywhere, and she groaned at that fact, spreading her legs without even thinking about it, affording Lady Heather a very enticing view.
Heather stared, and before she could stop herself, she gripped Catherine's thighs, digging her fingernails into the smooth, creamy flesh, and forced them further apart. "Keep them this wide," she purred. "Open for me. If your thighs get any closer together, they'll find out what the tail of my whip feels like."
The threat was terrifying and tempting all at once, but Catherine didn't want to disappoint the Lady again. She'd keep them spread wide no matter what Heather did to her. "Yes, Lady Heather," she answered in a hoarse, throaty voice.
Heather reveled in the quality of Catherine's voice, and again at the strangled cry and renewed struggles the blonde made when she dipped her head between those delicious thighs and kissed Catherine's throbbing clit.
"Oh God," Catherine gasped, throwing her head from side to side in an effort to relieve the tension in her belly. She knew, though, that the only release in sight wasn't going to come from her. Lady Heather was totally and completely in control of her body, her passion, her pleasure. She could do nothing to influence her own release. Lady Heather's tongue was wicked, teasing her to the brink and easing her back down, again and again, until tears leaked from her tightly closed eyes and she begged. "Please, Lady Heather," she choked out, her need so focused and intense that it encompassed her every conscious thought. She had never been denied an orgasm like this, and the pounding of her pulse was becoming painful.
Heather brought her to the edge and backed away again, and held Catherine's hips as the blonde struggled wildly, screaming her frustration, breaking down before the Lady's eyes. Sobs consumed the beautiful CSI, and when she finally gave up the fight, slumping back to the bed, her muscles slack, Heather spoke. "Good girl, Kitty Cat..."
Catherine couldn't answer. She was crying too hard, and was too angry and frustrated and confused to even know what to say if she could get words out.
Heather brought her hands up to stroke Catherine's quivering stomach. "I know you're angry with me," she whispered. "You're frustrated. You don't understand why I won't let you cum. I want you to trust me, Catherine. Let go of your need and enjoy the journey that *I* want to take you on." She kissed Catherine's belly button. "You've surrendered your body to me... I want you to surrender your will."
"I don't know how!"
"You're not even trying."
"I am trying, I can't just turn off my brain!" Catherine yelled indignantly, giving a fierce pull on the ropes. What the hell did Heather want from her? She was tied up for God's sake!
"Catherine," Heather warned calmly, though she felt anything but calm. "Do I need to untie you?"
The thought was so disappointing that Catherine didn't think she could take it. She didn't want to be untied and sent home in the middle of their scene. She shook her head, finally starting to understand what Heather expected. "No, Lady Heather... I'm sorry. Please, don't untie me. I'll stop."
"Good girl. Just enjoy each feeling for what it is, not where it's leading," Heather said in a quiet voice.
Catherine nodded mutely, a low hum starting in her throat as she felt Heather's head drop and that wicked tongue began licking her thighs. She focused on the smooth, wet sensations as Heather alternated thighs, licking her way up one, then the other, then back again. She watched how sensual and graceful the Lady's movements were. She thought about everything in the moment. Everything except her aching need, and soon it was subdued. It became background noise to everything else she was experiencing. She transcended the boundaries of her own will and fully surrendered herself to Lady Heather. It was hard, but it was fucking amazing.
The feel of the nylon rope around her wrists was magnified until she could sense every stitch and thread. They trapped her in some ways, and released her in so many others. The air in the room settled over her like a blanket, and while she breathed it, it breathed her. Each breath carried a different scent - first shampoo, then sweat, then arousal, then skin, lipstick, mascara, silk, satin, leather, until they all swirled around inside her head and made her dizzy.
Fingers moving into her and teeth on her clit blended to a rising crescendo in her belly. The pressure grew with each stroke, each scrape of ivory across swollen flesh until Catherine was screaming her release, arching off the bed, overwhelmed with the display of lights and colors crashing through her mind. The pulsing wave of pleasure rolled through her, pulling out every last drop of energy she had left and then anchoring her to the mattress, tears of intensity coursing down her cheeks.
The whole team was in the break room before shift the next night, munching on donuts and drinking coffee, reading magazines, watching tv, etc etc. Catherine swallowed a bite of donut and made a general announcement to the room at large. "I need a volunteer for something."
Everyone glanced at her, not too curious, figuring it was work related, then went back to what they were doing to wait for further clarification.
"I'm going to be entertaining at Lady Heather's a few hours a week, so I need someone to practice spanking."
Greg and Sara choked on their coffee, Warrick dropped the remote, Grissom crushed his fists around the edges of his magazine, and Nick just laughed. Then for some reason all eyes in the room fell on Sara.
"Why is everyone looking at me? It's not bad enough that I choked on my coffee and have to change clothes, now you think I should volunteer to let Catherine manhandle me to get ready for a job with some chick? Hell no, why not Greg?"
"Hey, I choked on my coffee too," Greg quickly pointed out, his face flushing red at the suggestion.
"Come on Sara, take one for the team," Nick piped up, grinning like an asshole.
"Fuck you," Sara said in that way of hers, pushing her chair back and standing up. "I'm going to change, you bunch of misogynistic pigs. I can't believe just because I'm a female, you all think I should offer my ass up."
Catherine was definitely amused. "I won't hit you that hard, Sidle," she promised, fighting down a smirk at Sara's outrage and discomfort.
"You won't hit me at all, Willows," Sara snapped back as she strode from the room, her cheeks glowing with anger and embarrassment. Who the hell did they think they were?
"Any of you want to take that?" Catherine asked, inclining her head toward the doorway after Sara.
"No, thank you," Grissom was the first to decline. He carefully folded his magazine and set it on the table. "I'll be in my office." And he left.
Everyone else shook their heads... even Greg.
"Come on guys, do you really think I'm the best person to go after her?" Catherine asked wearily, puffing out a breath of air as she stood and put her hands on her hips.
"No," Greg answered, "but none of us brought up the subject that pissed her off."
"Oh bullshit! She's pissed off because you all automatically looked at her to volunteer. Not because I brought up the subject."
"Well in that case, you're the perfect person to go after her," Nick said with another shit-eating grin.
"Grow some balls, would ya?" Catherine snorted, striding from the room and heading for the lockers to find a shirtless Sara cursing and rummaging through her stuff. "Hey," she said as she approached.
Sara turned on her, brown eyes blazing. "I don't have another shirt! Look what you did!"
Bright blue eyes blinked in surprise. "Relax, Jesus, you can borrow one of mine. What's got you so high-strung?" Catherine asked as she yanked open her own locker and pulled out a dark red sweater, handing it over to her colleague with a raised eyebrow.
Sara snatched the sweater and pulled it over her head in such haste that she put it on backwards, shoving her arms roughly into the sleeves anyway and pinning Catherine with an enraged glare. "Oh, let's all volunteer Sara to get her ass beat. Nevermind that it happened all the time before she was old enough to stop it!"
"Shit." Catherine rubbed a hand over her face and exhaled a slow breath. "I didn't even think about it."
"Of course you didn't," Sara said with quiet poison, closing her locker door. "Why would you?" She went to move past Catherine, but a gentle arm around her waist stopped her, Catherine's forearm pressing lightly into her belly.
Sara froze, tensed, all her senses on high alert. "What?"
Catherine slowed her breathing before speaking, leaving her arm where it was, blocking Sara's path away from her. "It could be a healing experience for you."
At that Sara laughed, a mirthless, bitter laugh that echoed off the walls of the locker room and hurt her own ears. "Get out of my way, Catherine."
"Getting a spanking isn't the same as having your ass beat," Catherine tried to explain.
"Get out of my way, or I'll hurt you without meaning to," Sara said tersely, feeling the panic starting to rise in her chest.
Catherine wisely dropped her arm to let Sara by, trying one last vocal appeal as she watched the brunette walk away. "It actually felt really nice!"
Sara just kept walking. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and everyone else as possible right now. Too bad she was wearing Catherine's sweater, and it smelled like her. Nothing like the scent of freesia in your nostrils to prevent you from feeling alone.
Catherine groaned, running her hands through her hair and taking a deep breath, then slammed her locker door and headed to the briefing room to get the day's assignments.
Greg and Sara got a DB in a warehouse, Warrick and Grissom got a strangulation at the Stardust, and Catherine worked with Nick on a breaking and entering at a private residence. About an hour before the end of shift, she was in her office going over paperwork when a very dirty and grimy Sara poked her head in the door.
And she popped back out. Catherine stood staring at the door, wondering if she'd just hallucinated that. She finally got up and went in search of Greg, finding him in the lab running a DNA sample. What a surprise. "Why is Sara covered in dirt and grease and you're perfectly clean?" was her first question upon noting Greg's pristine condition.
Sara was heading for the shower when she heard the question from the lab, and threw a comment in the door as she walked past. "Because he's a big fat baby."
Greg stood up from the microscope and yelled after her, "someone had to watch your back!"
Catherine couldn't help the snicker that escaped at Greg's pathetic attempt to defend himself. "One more question. Did--"
"Yep, I did," Greg said with a very Nick-like grin. Then his grin faltered at the look on Catherine's face. "Wait. You were gonna ask if I talked her into the spanking thing, right?"
Catherine's eyebrows shot up and she looked at Greg knowingly.
"Well, not talked her into it exactly. But we talked about it." Catherine was still looking at him. "All right! She yelled at me for a half hour and I had no influence on the decision whatsoever!"
"Did she say why she was going to do it?"
"What information do you actually have, Greg?"
"I'm really busy here Catherine. Work to do."
Another snicker and Catherine was out the door, heading back to her office to finish up the paperwork she'd started, a huge smile on her face. She had someone to practice on. And it was Sara Sidle.
At the end of shift, Catherine looked up to find Sara lingering in her office doorway, hands shoved into her jeans pockets, staring at her shoes. When she looked up to find Catherine watching her, she cleared her throat and spoke quickly.
"So, uh, how do we do this?"
Catherine grinned and grabbed her purse, standing up and shutting off her computer. "First I take you to breakfast, as a preliminary thank-you, then I planned on taking you to my house."
"I can't eat right now," Sara said, her eyes anywhere but on Catherine. "You'd better just take me to your house before I chicken out."
Catherine raised an eyebrow, slipping on her jacket and preceding Sara out of her office. "You? Chicken out of something? I think I'd faint. You're the most stubborn, hard-headed--"
Sara interrupted her. "Cath? Not making me want to go home with you..."
"Okay, okay, truce."
Neither woman said a word the entire drive to Catherine's house. Catherine finally broke the silence as she parked and shut off the engine.
"I meant what I said, you know. That this could be a healing experience for you."
Sara just shrugged and got out of the car, nudging the door closed with her hip and immediately shoving her hands back into her pockets. It was her safety net when she was nervous, rare though the times may be. She jumped when she felt human contact, and settled when she realized it was just Catherine putting a comforting hand on her back to guide her up the walk.
Five minutes later they were in Catherine's bedroom. Sara couldn't even take stock of her surroundings, let alone appreciate the fact that she was in Catherine Willows' bedroom, because her brain was focused on pacing the room to calm her shaking hands. Good thing they were in her pockets, so Catherine couldn't see.
Catherine sat on the bed and watched Sara pace for a few moments, fighting down a little smirk at seeing her usually unflappable colleague striding around like a nervous teenager. "Sara, come here," she finally said, and watched as Sara registered the words. She went from pacing to standing stock-still, her back straight as a rod, facing away from Catherine.
After what seemed like hours of indecision but was probably only five seconds, tops, Sara turned and walked to Catherine's side, staring at the wall behind the bed. "I don't know if I can do this," she confessed, her fingers digging into her thighs inside her pockets.
"I think you can. It won't hurt any more than you're comfortable with, and you can stop me at any time."
Sara didn't think she was comfortable with any amount of hurting, but she had agreed to this, and she had something to prove to herself. She gave a slow nod, unable to find words.
Catherine smiled reassuringly and patted her thighs. "Okay, boots off please and climb on up, lay across my lap and get as comfortable as you can."
Her eyes back to the floor, Sara sat down on the carpet and untied her boots, slipping them off and putting them by the closed bedroom door before returning to Catherine and awkwardly bending over her lap.
"All the way up," Catherine clarified, reaching down and lifting Sara's legs onto the bed. She grinned to herself, knowing what it was taking for Sara to keep herself here. She knew the fiery young woman wanted to bolt. "You feel real good right here, Sidle," she commented in a low voice, flexing her thigh muscles for emphasis.
Sara attempted to squirm right off Catherine's lap at that little announcement, but an arm around her waist gently held her in place. Not the kind of hold she couldn't escape... just the kind that reminded her where she was supposed to stay.
Once she had Sara steady, Catherine started to explain a couple things. "So. I have learned, that any good spanking starts with a warm-up, which is basically just a series of gentle taps that increase slowly."
"Right. Like boiling water."
"Stop being a scientist for ten minutes," Catherine scolded sarcastically.
"That leaves nothing else," Sara countered, though her tone was more wistful than scrappy.
"There's more to you than science, darlin, and we're gonna prove that right now," Catherine insisted, rubbing her palm over Sara's bottom and starting to lightly spank her over her jeans. "Now, everyone's technique is slightly different, and everyone's response is different, so I need you to tell me what you like and what you don't."
"Uh, okay... I don't like having to talk about what you're doing."
"Cheeky little girl," Catherine said with a laugh, continuing the gentle taps for a few silent moments before she reached underneath Sara and freed the button of her jeans, sliding down the zipper.
"Don't like that!" Sara piped up instantly, no longer having such a problem voicing her opinion about what Catherine was doing.
"Sara," Catherine said in her 'motherly' voice, starting to peel the jeans down over the brunette's hips, "stop deliberately misinterpreting my words." She lowered Sara's jeans to her knees, blinking at the sexy black thong her colleague was wearing. "Nice underwear."
"Catherine!" Sara growled, starting to push up onto her hands, but a firm swat to one bare cheek sent her back to the bed with a gasp. She felt the same on her other cheek, and her face flushed bright red at the thought of how she must look to Catherine right now.
"Your butt is gorgeous," Catherine nearly purred, squeezing both cheeks firmly before running her fingertips lightly over each one, drawing invisible circles across Sara's pale skin. When Sara didn't give a response, she had to remind herself that she had no right to expect one. Sara wasn't her client, or submissive, she was just doing this as a favor.
Sara tensed, a shiver running through her body when Catherine squeezed her ass. So far, this wasn't too bad. It was actually kind of nice, despite the fact that she was across Catherine's lap like a child, with her jeans around her knees. When the gentle taps started up again on her bare skin, she swallowed her embarrassment and whispered in a rush, "I like that, Cath."
Wow. Catherine was wholly unprepared for the rush of endorphins through her mind at those four simple words from Sara. She held back the whimper she wanted to make, instead purring at Sara and continuing the soft spanking. She resisted the urge to lean down and nibble the side of Sara's neck, which was so deliciously exposed to her by the way her colleague was laying - on her stomach, of course, with her head turned to the side, her left cheek pressed into the comforter. "Thank you Sara," she hummed appreciatively, resting her free hand on Sara's back.
"Uh, you're welcome," Sara replied, surprised at the thank-you and not knowing how else to respond.
After a few minutes of silence, except the quiet slapping sound of skin on skin, Catherine threw caution to the wind and just outright asked for permission to nibble on Sara's neck. "Sara, would you strenuously object to my lips on your neck while I spank you?"
Sara's jaw dropped, and she was glad she was facing away from Catherine. She knew she had one of those 'OH my GOD' looks on her face, in a rare moment of shock she wasn't able to keep hidden. "Uh, I don't know, really," she drawled, her voice sounding a little huskier than usual, which was saying something, since her voice was normally pretty husky. "Why don't you try it and find out?" Did she just say that? Science-geek Sara Sidle managed to pull out something that cool in the face of a potentially awkward moment? Right on.
"Oh yeah?" Catherine grinned, enjoying the challenge, and she leaned down to capture a mouthful of flesh, bathing it gently with her lips and tongue as she started to spank Sara a little harder.
Sara tensed at first, registering the harder hits, but Catherine's tongue sliding across her neck pulled her full attention, and she relaxed with a low moan. "Oh God, Cath... this is really inappropriate," she managed to protest slightly, though she moaned again and shut her eyes. Catherine was very skilled with her mouth. And her hand, actually... despite the mild sting that was starting up in her backside, she found herself enjoying the way Catherine spanked her. She hadn't expected to be affected on a sexual level, but the first stirrings of arousal were forming in her belly.
"I'd have to agree with you, but I think propriety went out the window as soon as you bent over my lap," Catherine snickered, tracing her tongue up and down Sara's top few vertebrae. "I'm gonna spank you harder now, Sidle, so if it's too much, just speak up, okay?"
Sara tensed again, her whole body going stiff, but Catherine eased her back down with gentle kisses along the top of her spine and the back of her neck. Once she relaxed her muscles, she was treated to a very firm, stinging slap to one of her cheeks. "Ow!" she yelped, intending to say it was too much, but the sting quickly spread into a warm glow, and she realized she wasn't panicking. It hurt, but not in the way she was familiar with. She settled back down and received another hard smack on the other cheek, and again she yelped, but this time it was without a definitive word, just a little noise.
Another, and another, and another, and after at least a dozen good smacks, the swirling emotions in the pit of Sara's stomach were starting to make themselves known between her legs. She squirmed, not wanting Catherine to realize where her body was taking her, especially not without the barrier of her jeans between her thighs and Catherine's pants.
Catherine was surprised that Sara was letting the harder slaps continue for so long, but she was thrilled. Sara was responsive and beautiful and vulnerable, and above all, trusting, which wasn't something the CSI was used to in her daily life. Not in her job, and not with her ex-husband, and lately not with Lindsey either. But Sara was trusting her, even though she knew that her colleague had been terrified to come here and do this. Her responsiveness was empowering, and Catherine was loving every second of it. And the way that gorgeous pale ass felt beneath her hands was indescribable. Especially now that it was glowing red and warm to the touch. And Sara had not asked her to stop, or slipped away - the squirming brunette was right there with her. "How you doin?" she asked gently, even as she kept up the swats.
"I'm, I'm good." Sara cleared her throat, trying to make her voice sound less... exotic.
"Just 'good'?" Catherine asked knowingly, slowly winding down to soft taps again, then flattening her palm over Sara's warm, red bottom and rubbing back and forth across her cheeks. She wasn't stupid, she could feel the intermittent clenching of Sara's stomach muscles and smell the sweet, musky scent of her colleague's arousal.
"Yeah, you know, what else would I be?" Sara asked, her eyes going wide, once again glad she was facing away from Catherine. "It's, you know, it's good."
Well, if Sara didn't want to fess up, Catherine wasn't going to press her. She would confess her own excitement, however. "Well, Sidle, you did it. You survived a spanking. And I gotta tell you, it was more than 'good' for me, if you know what I mean."
"I'm not sure I do..."
"Oh no?" Oops... her rubbing hand slipped.
Sara gasped, fisting the comforter with both hands and squeezing her thighs together tightly. She couldn't even find the words to yell at Catherine, she was so embarrassed and turned on.
"That's what I mean," Catherine said wryly, pulling her hand away and taking hold of one of Sara's instead. She shifted her weight a little and guided Sara's hand between her thighs, closing her eyes at the feel of having Sara Sidle's hand between her legs, even covered by her own.
What was Catherine-- oh, shit. She was wet through her slacks. And really warm. Sara curled her fingers to rub them along the seam of Cat's pants. She couldn't help it.
"Oh my God," Catherine moaned uninhibitedly, tossing her head back and urging Sara to rub harder. She certainly hadn't expected that little movement, but damn if she was going to let the opportunity go by without encouraging a little more.
Sara felt the pressure on her fingers, and her breathing picked up speed. It had been a long time since she'd been with anyone. Eyelids fluttering, she pressed her fingers harder between Catherine's legs, stroking with a firmer motion.
Catherine couldn't believe that Sara was taking the prompt. "Yes," she hissed, pushing harder on Sara's fingers before letting go and using both arms to keep herself sitting upright. Please, please don't let Sara stop.
Sara was starting to lose herself in the feel of Catherine, but soon it wasn't enough. "Cath," she breathed. "Button and zipper." Wow. Was she really reduced to half-sentences so fast?
It took Catherine a minute to process the request in her desire-clouded mind, but as soon as it registered, her hands shot forward to work the button and yank down the zipper.
Sara's hand was immediately inside Catherine's pants, fingertips rubbing along the crotch of her soaked, silky panties. Both women groaned.
"Not enough, Cath," Sara panted lightly. "And this angle sucks."
"I kinda like this angle," Catherine said with a cheeky little grin.
"I'm gonna break my wrist like this," Sara complained. "And trust me, you'll like other angles better."
There was no way to deny that, no matter how sexy the brunette looked in her current position. "What did you have in mind?"
Sara breathed a sigh of relief and slowly pushed up onto her knees. She had gathered that Catherine was boss in this encounter, even though nothing had been expressly stated, and she was glad for the chance to set her own stage. She kicked her jeans the rest of the way off, then threw one leg over Catherine's and lowered to straddle the blonde's thighs, quickly returning her hand to the warmth between them.
Fingers expertly brushed Catherine's clit and slid lower, fingering her opening through her panties. "Ugh, Sara," she moaned, unable to remember anything ever feeling so good.
Hearing Catherine moan her name like that ripped away any shred of inhibition Sara had left, and she knew in that moment that she was going to fuck Catherine Willows.
Any unspoken roles and rules flew out the window as Sara took the lead, shoving Catherine's panties out of the way and pushing two fingers into her soft, slick heat. "Okay Catherine, I know I'm the one that got spanked, but you're the one who's gonna get fucked," she growled, letting Catherine know who was in charge now. "Any objections?"
Catherine threw her head back and let out the loudest moan she'd ever heard herself make when Sara's fingers plunged inside her, and then she couldn't help snorting with laughter at the question. Objections? Only if she was insane... "No objections at all, Sidle..."
"Good. Because for some reason, right now, all I wanna do is fuck you senseless."
Catherine's lips twitched and slowly pulled into a smirk. "That's because I spanked you *so* good."
"Hey, now, watch yourself, I may not be experienced with the spanking thing, but finger fucking is something I've got down to a science," Sara smirked back, curling her fingers just right and swiping her thumb across Catherine's clit.
Catherine groaned, both at the science correlation and the feelings erupting between her legs. "I'll give you that," she conceded, dropping her head back between her shoulders and closing her eyes. "How's your bottom feel, though?"
"Are you fishing for compliments, Cath?" Sara asked, grinning as she used her free hand to push Catherine all the way down onto her back. "It feels good. It feels really good. In fact, I can't feel the sting anymore, just a nice little glow. Say, after I'm done making you scream, you wanna try spanking me harder, so I'll have a little reminder of you when I sit down?"
"Hell yes," Catherine answered without hesitation. "You just might be kinkier than you thought you were, Sidle."
"Well, we'll see if I can take it, won't we?" Sara grinned, leaning over Catherine and letting her lips hover just a breath away as she pushed her fingers in deep and stroked the blonde beauty from the inside out.
"Ohhhhhh, yeah," Catherine encouraged, rocking her hips against Sara's hand. The pursing of her lips was enough to make contact with Sara's, and they kissed slowly, soft and gentle, everything else put on hold so they could explore each other's lips for the first time. Catherine could still feel Sara's motionless fingers inside her as she opened her mouth to accept the brunette's tongue.
"You know, I don't think you're gonna have a reminder when you sit unless I use a paddle. Sorry Sidle."
"Do you... *have* a paddle?"
Catherine stared down at the woman across her lap. "I have... a cutting board," she said slowly, trying to figure Sara out. Why did she want to be hit with a paddle after she'd been so angry about the prospect of a spanking in the first place? Angry and scared. Catherine wasn't sure if she should take a paddle to Sara's backside. There could be a trigger at any time, and she really wanted this to be a positive experience for the younger woman.
"But you don't want to use it." Sara was quite intuitive. She didn't miss much, and the tone of Catherine's voice alerted her to hesitation.
"I'm not sure," Catherine admitted, subconsciously reaching over to stroke Sara's hair, her protective instinct kicking in. "I really want you to look back on this experience with no regrets."
"I've never felt more empowered than I do right now," Sara confessed. "I like having control of my pain. It's something I've never had before. It feels so good when you spank me, Cat... I can't explain it. I never want to forget how it feels."
Catherine grinned. Deep down she was so relieved and grateful and proud to hear that, but for now she just grinned. And leaned over to whisper in Sara's ear. "I'll use the paddle... but for the record, you never have to forget how this feels, because you have an ass that I could spank forever."
Sara actually blushed.
"But before I head off to grab that cutting board, Miss Thang, there's something I wanna do first."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?"
Catherine curled her fingers into the waistband of Sara's thong and began an agonizingly slow descent over her hips, lightly scraping her nails along Sara's flesh as she went. She felt the delicious shiver that ran through her colleague's body, and when she had the thong halfway down, she paused. "Now... I want you to climb off my lap, and bend over the bed, and don't touch anything until I get back, got that?"
"Cath, what am I gonna touch?" Sara asked sarcastically, climbing off of Catherine's lap and bending over the bed as instructed.
"Nothing. Didn't you hear me?"
"That's not what I--" she turned her head to see the twinkle in Catherine's eyes, and snorted. "Smart-ass."
"Now now, Sidle, pipe down," Catherine teased, giving her a wink before disappearing out the door.
"This is uncomfortable!" Sara yelled after her, but she was smiling. She couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled this much in one day.
"That's the point!" was the yelled reply, and Catherine returned to the room a few moments later. "Did you touch anything?" She set the cutting board on the bed.
"Oh yeah, didn't you hear me getting off?"
"I was gone for thirty seconds."
"I'm quick these days."
"Don't make me test your clit for epithelials."
Sara burst out laughing so hard and unexpectedly that she ended up choking. "It'll never hold up in court," she wheezed.
"Well I don't plan on going to trial. This is a matter I'll enjoy handling myself."
Sara was finally able to calm herself down after long moments, and she turned to look over her shoulder at Catherine. "So handle it already."
That made Catherine snicker, and she walked up behind Sara, squatting down and tugging Sara's panties the rest of the way off. "Step out of 'em, Snappy," she ordered, and when Sara did, she picked them up and put them in her pocket, standing as she did so. "You look really good like that."
"Some people say my ass is my best feature."
"I've heard the rumors, why do you think I took your pants off?"
"Hey, who spilled?" Sara was surprised at how comfortable she was with Catherine. Bent over with her ass on display was not an easy position, despite her confidence in the appeal of said ass. And, throwing back and forth with her was easy. They were naturals at it.
"Do you want me to walk right out the door?"
Catherine grinned, stepping up closer to the brunette until her hips lightly touched Sara's backside. "Oh please," Catherine replied flippantly. "Your jeans are under the bed and your underwear's in my pocket."
"You're stealing my underwear?"
"Okay stealing, yes. Is there a problem with that, Miss Sidle?"
Sara smirked into the comforter and wiggled around a little. "Guess not. My souvenir's physical, yours is tangible. Makes sense."
"It's not a souvenir," Catherine argued, clearly teasing by the tone in her voice. "It's for blackmail." At Sara's laugh, Catherine leaned over her, pressing her body lightly against her colleague's back. Sara's head was turned to the side, some hair falling over her face to obstruct Catherine's view. She reached up to gently tuck the locks behind Sara's ear, then kissed her cheek. "Sara... are you sure you want me to hit you hard enough to leave bruises?" she asked quietly.
"Bruises?" Sara wrinkled her nose adorably.
"Yeah... if you want to have trouble sitting, I have to give you bruises. Or welts, but we're not going there."
"Well, you'll stop if I say so, right? Just work me up slowly."
"None of my business I guess, but I gotta ask why," Catherine grinned.
Sara reached a hand up and over Catherine's head to run her fingers through the silky blonde hair. "I have my reasons."
Catherine purred into the touch and then stood up, grabbing the paddle. "Wait a minute. Did you bet with Greg?"
"What am I, Warrick?" Sara scoffed. "No I didn't bet with Greg. They're personal reasons, known only to me. Look, if you don't have it in you..."
"Watch yourself, Sidle." Catherine gave Sara's ass a good pinch and then laid the paddle against it. "You ready?"
Sara squeaked at the pinch, turning her head with amusement. "Yeah, I'm ready."
Catherine rubbed the wooden board back and forth a few times, then raised her arm and brought the paddle down swiftly across Sara's naked rear.
"Shit!" Sara jumped, sucking her lower lip between her teeth and biting down, a shiver running through her entire body at the flames suddenly licking her skin.
"You okay?" Catherine asked immediately, leaning over the brunette once more, smiling at the blush on Sara's face.
Sara nodded, flicking her eyes up to Catherine, whose face was about an inch from hers. Those bright blue eyes were sparkling so brilliantly... and she was pretty sure it was because of her. "You turned on?" she answered with a question.
"You have no idea," Catherine drawled, standing back up before she lost herself in those dark brown depths. "You?"
"Maybe?" Catherine raised an eyebrow, resting the paddle on Sara's butt again, then lifted her arm and delivered a second, stinging blow just below the first. "Maybe?" Sara's second yelp was drowned out by the sound of the board cracking across her backside twice more in quick succession, and then Catherine's free hand was on the blazing skin, rubbing gently.
Sara yelled with each smack, shivering every time she felt the force of Catherine's hand through the extension of the paddle. "All right, all right," she muttered. "You win. More probable than 'maybe'. There's a 51 percent chance that I'm turned on."
"Oh man, I landed myself a smart-ass with you," Catherine breathed, rolling her eyes skyward. "I'll take the sarcasm as a request to hit you harder?"
"Oh come on, Catherine, you already knew I was a smart-ass. This is not news to either of us," Sara shot back. "If you want to hit me harder, go ahead." She paused for a second, and then added, "I'm really turned on, Cat."
Catherine smiled and replied softly, "I know."
"I didn't expect to be."
"I know that too."
"You were right, though. This is nothing like what happened to me growing up. It hurts, but... we're both in complete control of ourselves, and nobody's mad. You're giving me a chance to take back my power, a chance for *me* to decide who hurts me and how, and how much. I like the way you hit me. The harder the better. I want to feel it for days..."
"You will, baby doll," Catherine promised. "You just say 'yellow' if it starts to get too hard, okay?"
Catherine started up again, with a rhythm this time. And man, did she love the way Sara pressed her hips into the bed with each stroke. And the noises Sara was making - oh God. Groans and whimpers and wordless cries. And the way Sara's ass was turning a brighter shade of red every time the paddle connected.
Sara closed her eyes, finding herself at ease with the rhythm Catherine had set. It made the blows predictable, expected - nothing sudden or jarring - so that she could settle in and focus on how it felt, not wonder when the next one was coming. Catherine was steadily hitting harder, and at a particularly forceful blow, Sara hissed in a breath through her teeth, then let it out slowly through her nose.
Wow. Sidle was tough. She herself had cried over Lady Heather's lap, and the Lady had only used her hand. Now here was Sara, taking a pretty hard paddling, and she wasn't even whining.
Sara could feel herself starting to bruise, and she held out for several more smacks after that before the pain started getting too intense. "Y-yellow," she finally said, and noticed the change instantly. The blows lost their edge, winding down slowly until Catherine's hands were on her ass, the paddle set aside. Soft, trembling hands rubbed her bottom, making her gasp at first and then purr.
"Think I did the trick?" Catherine asked quietly.
Sara took a minute to just breathe before attempting an answer. Her voice came out low and raspy when she did. "Yeah."
"I am so curious why you don't want to be able to sit," Catherine admitted, feathering her fingers across the inflamed skin beneath them.
"You're just gonna have to stay curious," Sara replied, loving the gentle rubbing. Her ass was throbbing, not to mention blazing with heat. She was impressed with herself for taking such a hard spanking, and she couldn't help grinning.
"I hate being curious. I like knowing." Catherine grinned too, then climbed up onto the bed and sat criss-cross next to Sara's head. "Come here, you."
Sara drew her knees up onto the bed and crawled over. "Yeah?"
"Well, I just wanted to hold you for a minute. It's called after-care."
"There's a name for that? It's not just called holding a person?"
"Yes, after-care." She pulled Sara into her lap, snickering at the pained hiss from her colleague, and wrapped her arms around the blushing woman. "Smart-ass."
"Again, we already know this about me," Sara smiled, showing off the adorable gap between her front teeth as she leaned her head on Catherine's shoulder and allowed herself to be held. Several minutes of comfortable silence passed between them and then she said, "thank you, Catherine."
"You're welcome." Pause. "Thank *you*, Sara. I wanted a volunteer just for some rote practice, but I got more than I bargained for."
"Oh yeah? What'd you get?"
"You call it."
"Okay, let's see... you got a stubborn CSI with a smart mouth and--"
"No," Catherine interrupted. "You just lost your chance to call it. My turn. I got an extremely responsive, compliant, respectful partner that gave me her trust and her body. I got a chance to not only practice my skill and technique, but to enjoy doing it and have a complete blast. Not to mention I got finger-fucked to almighty oblivion, and that certainly wasn't part of the deal. Oh, *and*, I got to spank the most gorgeous ass I've ever encountered. The only thing that remains to be seen is whether or not I get to fuck *you* to almighty oblivion."
Sara was touched, flattered, and even honored at Catherine's words. She didn't want to show it, though, at least not yet, so she smirked up at the blonde and replied sarcastically. "Oh I don't know, Cat. I'm in your lap, naked from the waist down, so that wouldn't make any sense."
Catherine shrugged. "Okay, if you say--"
"Okay." Catherine didn't have a problem with that. "Pick your poison, tongue or fingers."
"Fingers," Sara answered without hesitation. "You'd go down on me, Cath?"
"Don't know a single person that wouldn't," Catherine said, raising an eyebrow and sliding Sara off her lap and onto her back on the bed. "Why do you sound surprised?"
"I don't know, I just-- it's not something I'd expect the first time I sleep with someone, that's all."
"Sure you don't want to change your mind?" Catherine asked, gently pushing Sara's legs apart and laying herself in between them.
"No!" Sara said quickly. "I'd die if you didn't like it," she explained with a blush.
"Didn't like it? Are you kidding me?" Catherine drawled, dropping her head between Sara's legs and inhaling a deep breath through her nose, a moan escaping her slightly parted lips.
"So, are you saying, like, that you *want* to go down on me?" Sara asked, looking anywhere but at Catherine.
Catherine's lips hovered a breath away from Sara's heat, and she groaned, closing her eyes. "Oh yeah, Sidle. Give me the go ahead and I'm all over it."
"That's really not sexy, Cath," Sara complained, pulling a face at Catherine's wording.
"Do you want sexy, or sex?" Catherine countered, blowing a cool breath between Sara's legs.
Sara shivered, the sensation running through her entire body before she settled back down. "If you really want to, I guess it's okay, I mean, it's not like *I'm* against it, I'm just afraid *you* won't li--" She was cut off mid-sentence by lips closing softly around her clit. "Oh fuck."
"Oh fuck." Catherine said the same thing when she tasted Sara inside her mouth. "Oh God. Sara, you're delicious." She sucked the brunette's clit between her lips and flicked it rapidly with her tongue.
Sara's eyes rolled back, her lids fluttering as rapidly as Catherine's tongue. "Catherine," she growled, forcing herself to look at the blonde between her legs. "I don't want to cum as soon as you start licking me, Jesus. There will be no rumors going around about my stamina, thank you very much. Ease off a little!"
Catherine's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's like asking a lion to use a Goddamned fork and knife to eat his steak, Sidle."
"You just compared my pussy to a steak."
"The analogy was valid."
"You just compared my pussy to a steak," Sara repeated, in that 'I can't believe this is happening' way of hers.
"Give me thirty seconds and you won't even remember your own name, let alone what I just said."
"A fucking steak. I'm a vegetarian. I can't believe you fucking said that, Cath. The countdown begins now," Sara drolled, clearly having no faith in Catherine's cocky promise.
The first thing Catherine did after that was bite Sara hard on the inner thigh - hard enough to leave an instantaneous mark and an impression of her teeth. Hearing Sara cry out, she grinned and licked the pulsing wound, bathing it back to pleasure.
Well, Sara did forget her name in that moment, as she was too busy cursing the pain in her thigh and resisting the urge to yank out a handful of Catherine's hair. But then Catherine's hot, wet tongue was pushing inside her, and the sheer visceral pleasure made her forget much more than her name. She put a hand on the back of Catherine's head, urging her to make firmer contact, and when Cat did, she curled her fingers into blonde hair and squeezed.