His tongue teased her palate. The nips at her lips were slow and purposeful, sending sharp flames of desire through her before they were soothed away with languid strokes.
She melted into him, trusting the wall to hold her up. There was no space for questions or thoughts, just the rough immediacy of their need.
Carla pushed even closer, until it was almost a strain for her lungs to fill. It made her feel, not quite small, but something like that. Controlled. Captured. Dominated.
Not weak, though. Not any less herself.
Something snapped into place. If this was what submission was, she wanted more of it. Wanted to be the target of all of Carla’s demands and desires, to be so utterly needed that Carla had to hold her in place to take everything that she had to give.
She’d enjoyed the kiss earlier, both the giving and the taking. The way that they could be rough and aggressive with each other and then softly sweet. No one had ever kissed her like that.
But she liked this even more. The way that Carla held her like all she had to do to please him was let herself drift away on the sensations that he wrung from her.
Carla rubbed against her thigh, and she could feel that he was wearing a cock, too. A tiny part of her was confused, but mostly it was just unimaginably hot. She could imagine him strutting around, cock hard and ready, commanding attention.
Did this mean that they were gay men? Was this how gay men felt against each other? Or was this something completely different? Some other type of queerness that she couldn’t put a label to?
If a cis-man had rubbed his cock on her this way, it would have been revolting. But with Carla it was intriguing. Alluring. The contrast between the soft touch of his breasts and the hard bulge of his cock was electrifying.
And Carla was still kissing her, his mouth hungry to know and claim every piece of her. She raised her hands, overcome by sensation and just needing to hold something to keep herself tethered.
Her hands met Carla’s belt, that wide masculine strip of leather that always drew her eyes. She’d fantasized about that belt. And now she was touching it. It was thrillingly intimate.
She ran her hands up and down Carla’s sides, feeling the contrast. The masculine thickness of it against the gentle curve of hips and waist, the feminine form compelled into straight lines. She heard herself moan.
Carla hummed and pressed in closer, encouraging her to touch.
This wasn’t awkward at all. Almost easy.
And sex had never been easy for her.
Knowing that Carla wanted to take care of her, though, changed everything. She didn’t need to be aggressive and in control. And, somehow, she could do that without taking off her clothes.
Carla pressed his thigh upward, grinding it against her, and another jolt went through her. Touching her own cock was always exciting, though she hadn’t done it in years. Having a partner rub against it, especially with that extra device inside, didn’t just feel good. It felt right.
She thrust back against him, chasing the sensation. She didn’t usually let anyone touch her, but it was different when she was thrusting back against Carla, knowing that he could feel her hardness.
She let her hands wander up Carla’s back, feeling the warmth of his skin and wishing she could get underneath all of those layers. His shirt was thin, but there were tight bands of some other fabric constricting his chest, likely a binder or sports bra.
She hoped he would take it off. They hadn’t talked about Carla’s body, about what he was comfortable with. She reminded herself, though, that she didn’t need to worry about it.
She ran her hands up his back again. She was still drowning in his kisses, but also noticing everything about him. It felt like touching a mirror of herself.
Everyone she’d slept with before wore lacy bras with skinny straps. They smelled of delicate perfumes and wore deep-necked blouses to reveal their cleavage. They made her feel strong and masculine through the contrast of their femme presentation.
With Carla, though, it felt rough and masculine. It was, somehow, even more queer, an unlikely matching of similarities that had her more turned on than she’d ever been in her life. Touching Carla was thrilling. Shocking. Everything that she’d wanted and hadn’t even admitted to herself.
Yet she still worried. Some ingrained response that she was doing something wrong. That she needed to hide herself and what she wanted.
Carla broke the kiss and nuzzled against her cheek, smooth skin to smooth skin. “I lost you, babe. What’s going on?”
She’d never had a lover notice her inattention, either. Carla always seemed to see so much of her.
“Stupid bullshit from my childhood, I suppose. It’s just… hard to get over it sometimes. It’s like… being with a woman is gay, but this is… gayer?”
Carla drew back to look at her and gave her another soft kiss on the cheek. “More transgressive? To be masculine and feminine at the same time, and then want the same thing in the person you’re attracted to?”
“Something like that.”
Carla whispered in her ear. “That’s part of what makes it so sexy, though. I admire you. I look up to you. I want to be you and I want to be with you.”
“I was thinking that you’re like… a mirror. I mean, not quite because you’re young and outgoing and...”
Carla cut her off with a kiss. “I like that idea. That we can mirror each other. That our presentation is similar, because that’s what we’re attracted to. There’s also something that we can give each other.”
“I’m not sure what I give you.”
Carla nosed up under her neck, kissing below her ear. “Charlie, you give me everything. I told you that you’re enough for me just like this. Just being yourself. But if you still want to let me take care of you, to submit to me, that would be a marvelous gift.”
Charlie debated. It would be so easy to hold back. She could live inside her blanket of fears until another day. Another year.
But as soon as she stepped past the fears, she knew that she wanted this. She might not trust herself, but she trusted Carla.
“No, I want this. I just… go easy on me.” It wasn’t easy to ask for help like that. To admit weakness.
She reminded herself that this was different. Carla wanted her to submit not in weakness but as a gift. She was pretty sure that she wanted that, too.
Carla dropped a kiss just below her ear. “The only thing I want is for you to let go and enjoy yourself. That means listening to what you want and giving it to you. Your only job is to let me. All you have to do is say the word and I’ll stop.”
Charlie’s legs felt weak. She nodded. She’d needed that reminder, but even more, Carla’s words were starting to paint pictures in her head.
“Ready?”
She put on a bold face. “Ready.”
Carla led her to a bedroom. The bed was stripped down to the dark blue sheets, but a colorful quilt was folded at the foot. The room was perfectly Carla, colorful and light, with photos of smiling faces and vibrant art.
A moment later she noticed the coiled strands of rope on the neat desk and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. What would it feel like wrapped around her? Would it be rough or smooth? What would it be like to be held in place, unable to move?
Carla stepped behind her, running soothing hands down her arms. “You like that?” he whispered against her ear. His front was pressed to her back and she could feel the insistent bulge in his jeans. Just knowing it was there was driving her crazy.
“I don’t know yet,” she whispered back honestly. But her eyes continued to trace the colored loops.
“You’ll be gorgeous in them. A work of art.”
She snorted. “Unlikely.”
Carla hummed against her neck. “You’ll be gorgeous to me.”
She couldn’t contemplate that for too long. “What do I have to do?”
Carla moved in front of her and his slim fingers found the button at her collar. He opened it and moved to the next one, his t
ouch barely there but burning through her. “You have to trust me. You have to follow my commands and let me touch you, though only where we agreed. You have to let me worship you.”
“Oh…” she breathed out. She wasn’t sure what else to say.
He reached the last button and drew her shirt out from where it was tucked into her pants. Her undershirt still separated them, but he made no attempt to disrupt it as he pulled the sleeves down her arms. When it was off, he hung it over the back of the chair.
When his hands returned, he reached for the button of her jeans. Nervous excitement shot through her with just a brush of his hands.
She hadn’t quite forgotten that she was packing, but now that Carla’s fingers were so close, it was all she could think about.
The dildo was separate and artificial, but it felt like her cock. It was a part of her now. And Carla was opening her zipper with confident motions.
It hung heavy in her boxers, pushing out against them, barely constrained. Carla traced along her length through the fabric. She couldn’t quite feel it, but seeing Carla’s hand on her shaft made her feel like she was being stroked. The ripples of pleasure where the base touched her only added to the sensation.
Carla dropped to one knee to ease the jeans down her legs, taking her socks off with them.
She hadn’t expected him to get on his knees. That didn’t seem very dominant. At the same time, she still knew he was in control. Was he just trying to ease her into things slowly?
He pressed a kiss to her knee. Her thigh. The side of her cock.
She felt a little bit silly, knowing that she wasn’t going to take off any more clothing. It was also strange that she wasn’t supposed to do something. That Carla wasn’t waiting for her to take charge or even respond.
But it was freeing, too. Underneath her worries, she felt sexy. Desired. Taken care of.
Maybe there was a lot more to this than she realized.
“Lay down on the bed.” Carla’s voice was quiet, but it held a firm command.
She felt shivery as she did as she was told, knowing that he was watching her. She knew she was awkward and flabby and still wearing clothes over most of her body, but Carla wanted her here. Carla was going to take care of everything.
She lay down on her back, hoping that she had it right.
“Very good.” Carla traced his hand down her arm.
“Do you have any circulation or joint issues? Anything that might hurt if it stays in one position for too long?”
“My knee sometimes hurts if I use it too much or step on it wrong.” That was the only thing she could think of. “I’m not very flexible, though.”
Carla pressed a kiss to one knee and then the other. “You don’t need to be.”
He was so sweet. Not what she would have expected from a Dom at all.
Then he picked up the first coil of rope and her heart jumped. He was actually going to tie her up. Just thinking about it had her nervous and excited.
It took her a moment to focus on his next question. “How about your whole body? Diabetes? Any problems with your breathing or heart?”
“Nothing. The doctor says my blood pressure could be lower, but it’s not, like, dangerously high.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good. I’m glad you’re healthy.”
She didn’t think she’d had anyone else think about something like that, either.
“I’m going to tell you what I do before I do it,” Carla spoke soothingly. “We’ll keep things pretty simple today and keep it short. If you don’t like anything, or even if none of this feels good to you at all, just tell me and we’ll stop. If anything feels tingly, let me know immediately. I may be able to adjust the rope, and if that doesn’t fix it, I’ll cut through them.” He held up a pair of blunt-tipped scissors. “Nothing we do today should hurt you.”
She nodded.
“Any questions?”
“No.”
He kissed her gently on the lips. “Thank you again for trusting me with this.”
Charlie wasn’t sure what to say. It seemed like he was doing all of the giving, that she was just supposed to lie there and relax, but it was clear how meaningful it was to him.
“Cross your arms over your chest and hold your elbows.”
Charlie complied. It was the strangest sensation, just waiting to be tied up. She hoped the reality would be as exciting as the ideas in her head.
Carla kneeled on the bed beside her. “This is called a reverse box,” he explained as he looped the doubled-up rope twice around each of her upper arms in a figure eight pattern.
He didn’t pull her arms any closer together than they already were, though it was clear that she couldn’t pull them apart.
He did something fancy in the middle, where the loops crossed, and then started to wrap the rope around her forearms.
So far, it just felt… different. Like she was being tied up, obviously, but she wasn’t sure what else. It was almost technical in some way, though Carla’s hands were always soothing on her skin.
When the forearm part was done, Carla cupped Charlie’s elbows and raised her arms until she could see them. As he’d said, her arms were arranged in a rectangular box with the ropes forming T shape across them. The knots were elegant and smooth, with a coil between the crossbar and her forearms. It certainly looked beautiful.
“How does it feel?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Any pain? Anything uncomfortable?”
“No.”
“Just let yourself relax into it then. I’m going to tie a column down your legs next so I’ll put a pillow under your feet to elevate them.”
He kissed each of her hands where they were curled loosely around her elbows.
“Let your arms be heavy,” he advised. “You don’t need to hold them up.”
She hadn’t realized that she was until he said it. Even though she couldn’t move her arms, she’d been gripping her elbows and trying to stay in place.
She relaxed her hands and let her shoulder drop. She could feel each place where the ropes pressed into her, but they weren’t painful or too tight. It was more that she didn’t need to hold all of that weight because the ropes would support her.
It wasn’t quite as sexual as she’d been expecting, but it was comfortable. Maybe even relaxing. The true thrill, though, was just knowing that she was bound.
It reinforced, in this deep physical way, not just that Carla was in control, but that Carla would take care of her.
Carla shifted down the bed, placing a pair of pillows below her feet, just as he’d said. He ran warm hands down her legs, leaving her sensitive and excited. She raised her head awkwardly to look down at herself, but all she could see beyond her bound arms was the dildo poking up against her boxers.
God, that was sexy. And a little embarrassing. But somehow more sexy because Carla could see it, too.
Carla’s face was serene as he touched her. He looked happy. Relaxed. Of course, he usually looked happy and relaxed, but this was something different. A kind of glowing focus, like touching Charlie’s thick thighs and bumpy knees was the most important thing in the world. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at her like that.
Charlie leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes. She could feel Carla get the next piece of rope and begin winding it around her thighs. There was a circle binding them together, and then the pattern vined down her legs.
She could feel exactly where Carla was as the coils built up. There were long, soothing pulls and little jerks as Carla tightened the knots. Each one left behind another circuit, another layer of security.
There was something inevitable about it. This sense that the next rope was always coming. That her legs were meant to be confined and connected in this way, under Carla’s hand. That the ties would keep her together and hold her close.
Carla added a final loop just above her ankles and closed it off with a few tugs as she secured the knot.
&nbs
p; Carla’s warm hands ran back up over her legs, the sensation interrupted each time as Carla’s hands passed over the coils. That somehow made it more sensuous when Carla was touching her again.
“How do you feel?” Carla asked again.
“It’s… nice.” Charlie could feel herself blushing. Was it supposed to be nice? She wasn’t quite sure how to describe it though.
“No pain?”
She shook her head. “It could probably be… tighter.” Not that there was anything wrong with it, but if there were more… She wasn’t quite sure how to ask.
Carla grinned at her. “Oh, you do like it!” He shifted up the bed to kneel beside her chest. “Don’t ever ask for tighter, though. What you probably mean is more rope. That you’d like to have more wraps or thicker ones at each place.”
Charlie thought about it and nodded. Her arms felt almost bare in comparison to her legs. Carla ran his hands over her arms, soothing and arousing her at once. Was this like the elbow thing? Where just knowing that she was bound made it more exciting?
“Does it feel like you were expecting?”
“It’s, um, nicer.” Ugh. Not what she meant to say. But it was nicer. So much more relaxing when she couldn’t move, yet exciting at the same time. “I, uh, thought it would be more sexual,” she finally admitted.
Carla got a wicked look on his face. “Oh, it can be. Do you want that?”
“I…” Charlie took a minute to think. She’d already told Carla that she didn’t want to be touched in most places that people thought of as sexual. Intellectually, she trusted him to observe that. It was just that she’d told women before what she wasn’t comfortable with and they always tried to push. There was a lot of just once for me and I can make you feel good and I thought it would be different once you trusted me.
So she wanted it as long as Carla steered clear of any of those areas.
Just as she had that thought, something occurred to her. Carla had tied her legs together and crossed her arms over her chest. She knew him too well to think it was an accident. He’d used his knotwork to make both of those places inaccessible. To keep her safe.
And to let her know that she was safe.
Because he was taking care of her.
Whirlwind Page 36
