by Alexi Venice
Sometime later, Jen awoke to Victoria kissing her neck and playing with her strawberry curls, Victoria’s fingers occasionally dipping down and tickling her center, then returning to the top of her pussy.
“I want to fuck you again,” Victoria said softly.
A dreamy smile spread across Jen’s lips. “Let’s.”
“May I put these on your wrists?” Victoria pushed up on her elbow and dangled the pink handcuffs above Jen.
Jen blinked her eyes and examined the pink leather with the chrome buckles. “How many women have worn these?”
Victoria laughed. “I don’t have a BDSM harem of regulars, if that’s what you’re wondering. These are actually new. I share my toys with lovers who want variety. Nothing more.”
“I’m sorry. I was joking. Sort of.” She recalled how Victoria’s nipple rings had excited her, so she decided to give it a whirl. “Yes. I’m game.”
“We can remove them at any time if you don’t like them. Just pick a safe word.”
“I never thought I’d need a safe word for sex,” Jen said. “My mind is blank.”
“Say the first word that comes to mind.”
“’Really?’”
“Yes. Like any word.”
“No. That’s what popped into my mind, as in my safe word is ‘Really?’” Jen said.
Victoria smiled, but it was a patient smile. “I’m afraid that might be interpreted as a question during sex. We need something more definitive.”
“Something drastic to kill the mood?” Jen asked. “Like ‘Donald Trump?’”
Victoria rolled her eyes. “Can we not bring him into my house, much less into my bedroom? Gross.”
Jen laughed. “I couldn’t agree more. How about ‘Dildo Baggins?’’
“I’ve heard that before.” Victoria gently placed a leather handcuff around Jen’s left wrist and eased the leather tip through the chrome buckle, snugging it up.
“How about I call ‘cliterference?’” Jen ventured.
Victoria shook her head, reaching for Jen’s right wrist. “Not quite right.”
“How about ‘taco blocko?’” Jen asked.
“Nice,” Victoria said, buckling the handcuff on that wrist. “I think you’re better at this game than you let on.”
“Clam jam?” Jen asked.
Victoria continue smiling as she clipped the cuffs together, allowing for about eight inches of chain between Jen’s wrists. Jen pulled, testing the chain.
“How does that feel?” Victoria asked.
“Not as scary as I thought it would,” Jen said.
“Can you pick a serious word now?”
“‘Cunt shunt?’”
“Shunt?” Victoria asked. “What does that even mean?”
“Ah…to shove or divert something.”
“Doesn’t make sense to me.” Victoria guided Jen’s arms up and over her head, resting her bound wrists on the pillow above her. “How about ‘unicorn?’”
“Unicorn?” Jen tested, letting it roll off her lips. “That isn’t strong enough. I need a hard consonant, like ‘Bitch, stop!’”
Victoria broke into a wide smile. “I love a sense of humor in bed. We have a winner. ‘Bitch, stop!’ it is.”
Satisfied with her choice and feeling more in control than she thought she would, Jen stretched her entire body, tugging a little on the chain, and shimmying into position.
“Ready?” Victoria asked.
“I think so,” Jen said.
Victoria rolled away, grabbed a remote from the bedside table, and pointed it at a console against the wall. Music filled the room.
“Hope you like this music—” Victoria said.
“Anything is fine.”
“—Drowns out the screams.”
Jen’s eyes went wide.
“Just joking,” Victoria said. “This is one of my favorites.”
Jen listened, recognizing Two Feet singing, “Twisted.”
Really? Jen thought, She’s just that type of girl?
She didn’t have time to listen closely to the lyrics, as Victoria was back on top of her, kissing her wildly in her brush-the-lips, kiss-the-hell-out-of-them, then ask-to-be-let-in protocol. Initially, Jen rested her hands on Victoria’s shoulders, but soon, Victoria pushed Jen’s wrists back overhead and began working her way down Jen’s neck with deliberate kisses. Despite the light kink, or perhaps because of it, Jen felt herself being carried away on Victoria’s magical pink carpet ride.
Twenty-Three
Candlelight shimmered off champagne walls, gothic crown moldings, and a bizarre, unlit chandelier above the bed. Jen tried to make out its details, hidden in shadow above the lambent lighting, but could not.
Her curiosity was eclipsed by a building storm of sexual pleasure, so she closed her eyes, intently aware of her bound wrists, the faux fur lining deceptively comforting. Now that her arms were suspended, bound together, and pushed over her head, however, she desperately wanted them available. And, Victoria made sure Jen’s arms stayed overhead by resting her hands on the underside of Jen’s triceps, pushing against her soft skin.
Pinned, Jen swallowed her desire to buck the chain, instead surrendering to the restraint that Victoria intended. Isn’t this what I wanted? She took a deep breath and turned herself over to Victoria’s teasing and ravaging of her breasts, her senses heightened by her inability to do anything other than lie still for her new lover. She wanted to dig her fingers into Victoria’s shoulders, but she was following Victoria’s nonverbal commands. A jolt of vulnerability thrummed through her, intensifying her sexual tension. She was at Victoria’s mercy.
This was the first time she had submitted—truly submitted—to the primacy of another in bed. Even though Amanda was a force of nature in her own right, she was a considerate lover who gave as much as she took. Amanda. Stop comparing to Amanda.
Jen cast aside Amanda’s traitorous image and immersed herself in Victoria’s expert touch, the rising tide of erotic waves building inside of her. Victoria moved lower, blowing her hot breath over Jen’s skin, kissing it, until she crossed her bikini line to her pussy.
The irony of being in light restraint with Victoria—far, far away from Amanda—was that Jen’s fire burned as hot as ever. She didn’t feel the same emotional connection to Victoria—how could she?—but her carnal side was hungry and curious. She discarded any notion of second-thoughts and focused on the sex.
“Yes,” Jen said in encouragement. Primed, she hoped Victoria would smother her clit with a smoldering kiss, so anxious was she to learn whether the cuffs would amplify her climax.
Victoria had other things in mind, however, as Jen felt the cool, slick end of Kaya-the-rabbit enter her. She opened her eyes to find Victoria watching her, as she gently inserted Kaya into Jen, allowing Jen to adjust to the size. Either Victoria had lubed Kaya or Jen was ultra-wet because Victoria had no problem sliding Kaya in and taking a few delicate strokes.
“How does that feel?” Victoria asked.
“Good. You have a nice touch.” Jen lay her head back and closed her eyes. “More.”
Victoria deftly slid the smooth dildo its full length into Jen then turned it on a low setting. As she watched Jen, Victoria’s lips turned up and her eyes danced with amusement, her own nipples as hard as marbles, pressed up against Jen’s leg. Jen rolled her hips up toward Victoria’s hand, pushing against the vibe. She was surprised by the incredible rush of pleasure from only penetration. Nice touch, indeed.
Victoria moved the Kaya in and out while she again kissed Jen’s breasts, taking them in her mouth and driving her tongue around Jen’s nipples in a furious whirligig.
Pitching and squirming, Jen felt the ear of the Kaya jump to life against her bean. Any lingering soreness from Victoria’s fingers in the bath evaporated with the growing intensity of erotic connection. Jen was surprised she didn’t feel any friction against her sensitive skin, Victoria’s technique and Jen’s natural wetness acting in concert. Jen’s insides burs
t into flame as she pushed and pulled against the Kaya, Victoria expertly gliding its end over and around Jen’s clit.
Is this how Amanda felt with Roxy? Not in love, but with a really good fuck partner?
Victoria propped herself up on an elbow and again looked deeply into Jen’s eyes, as she slid the rabbit in and out. In and out. “Am I in the right place?”
Initially insecure about locking eyes with Victoria, Jen fought off the urge to look away but instead looked deeper into Victoria’s amused gaze. Jen was certain her vulnerability was laid bare through her own eyes, now fluttering with effort to remain open. “Oh yesss.”
Her body at the mercy of Victoria, Jen’s abdominal muscles clenched, as the Kaya massaged her G-spot and the ears tickled her clit. Behind her curtain of lashes, Jen saw Victoria studying her, clearly taking pleasure in Jen’s body, her whimpering, her writhing, her building orgasm. Jen suspected her role in Victoria’s pink tableau was all about Victoria’s sexual preferences, and she assumed they had barely scratched the surface. Regardless, Jen was riding down a sweet river, the current gaining in speed and intensity, the water thick and warm as pudding.
Victoria cupped Jen’s chin, angling her face toward her. “Show me your eyes. I want to see the pleasure inside of you.”
Her command was such a turn-on! Against the natural force of pleasure, Jen forced her eyelids to remain open, her body and mind exposed for Victoria’s entertainment. Victoria drank in all of Jen, her own expression wild with pleasure and concentration, her hand moving swiftly and deftly with the Kaya.
“Tell me you want to come,” Victoria said in a low voice.
Jen tried to speak but nothing came out. Riding the throes of passion while being at the utter mercy of someone else was new terrain for her.
“Tell me,” Victoria said.
“I. Want. To. Come,” Jen whispered amidst the vibrations on her pussy.
“Louder,” Victoria commanded as she lightly pinched Jen’s left nipple.
A searing string of sweet ecstasy jumped to life between Jen’s nipple and clitoris. “I want to coooome.”
Victoria smiled in victory, her thumb adjusting the Kaya to a higher setting.
Determined, Jen held Victoria’s stare, willing her to please her. When the swells inside Jen overflowed, heaving and churning, Victoria removed the Kaya slightly and rotated it 180 degrees, so the ears were now tickling the other end of Jen’s bottom. Victoria dove on top of Jen’s clit with her hot mouth and rollicked there, the Kaya in full vibration mode, sending hot waves of passion through Jen that radiated out of her mouth in low, guttural growls, filling the sex-scented air.
Jen fell into a deep space where she wanted the phrenzy to last forever, if she could just hold onto the ecstasy. She pictured herself lying in this pink haven of decadence for an entire afternoon, soaking up Victoria’s attentive expertise.
Victoria maintained a fervent rhythm, however, sending Jen over the cliff into a psychedelic free-fall of weightlessness. Her body and mind became one as they flew into an intensely-physical orgasm.
In a coordinated motion, delivered with ease while her tongue still embraced Jen’s clit, Victoria removed the Kaya and wrapped Jen’s thighs around her neck. She continued to cover Jen’s pussy with her mouth, pulling the last moans and shudders from Jen, elongating the final sweetness of climax.
Jen had never experienced such deliberate, drawn-out pleasure under the benevolent command of another. How long was I on the edge? Maybe it was the handcuffs. Maybe it was the obvious pleasure that Victoria took in watching Jen orgasm. Maybe it was Victoria’s proficiency with the Kaya. Or, maybe it was simply Victoria’s tongue, but Jen had been sucked into bliss, liberating her through sex.
Victoria’s face still buried in Jen’s pussy, she held Jen’s legs around her neck, cradling her with reverence.
After a time, Victoria scooted up alongside Jen and unbuckled the handcuffs. She lightly massaged Jen’s wrists as she gazed upon her with tenderness.
“That was mind-blowing,” Jen whispered. “Thank you.”
“For me too.” Victoria took care in covering their tired, glistening bodies with the soft sheet and thick blanket then spooned up against Jen’s back and held her in such a powerful embrace that Jen’s ribs ached. When Victoria relaxed her tight hold, Jen fell into a deep, deep sleep.
Twenty-Four
Jen blinked her eyes open to what she thought had been a chandelier hanging above the bed during last night’s sexcapade. In the morning sunlight, however, she realized it wasn’t a chandelier at all but a steel frame with carabiners, chains and leather straps loosely looped over the bars. The square bondage frame was connected to the ceiling by a substantial metal cylinder that looked like a gear box for a ceiling fan. Could it be? Did the frame twirl like a ceiling fan? Her eyes roamed the walls for a switch. She saw plenty of switches, but guessed the one with settings of “low, medium and high” was the spinning ticket.
The frame was suspended high enough over the bed for Jen to stand on the bed and not bang her head into it, which she found interesting but not inviting. She pictured herself being spun around like cotton candy in this room of devious shades of pink. She was shocked that she hadn’t noticed it when she had arrived last evening, but her observational skills evidently had been at an all-time low.
A hot thread of panic ran through her at the thought of bondage, but she squelched it, considering how polite Victoria had been last night. She pursed her lips, raised her eyebrows, and inclined her head, shrugging against the pillow. So, this is the real Victoria. Last night was probably beginner’s play for me. She obviously knows what she’s doing if she has this level of equipment looming over her bed.
Jen turned to look for her new lover, who was nowhere to be seen. Jen was a little relieved that she didn’t have to face Victoria immediately this morning. While grateful for the sex, she felt like she had been filleted open and studied, her soul devoured by Victoria, consumed in its entirety for Victoria’s self-indulgence. Jen absent-mindedly rubbed her wrists where the pink cuffs had been cinched tight. They didn’t hurt, there were no marks, and she couldn’t complain. Talk about embracing vulnerability. Brenè Brown would be proud. Being at Victoria’s mercy had yielded one of the most intense orgasms Jen had ever experienced.
Not feeling ashamed in the least for tiptoeing into a little decadence, Jen had enjoyed one helluva revenge fuck. Is that what this boils down to? A revenge fuck for Amanda’s affair with Roxy? Or do I really want a relationship with Victoria?
As she dug deep into her feelings, exploring possible connectivity with Victoria, she came up empty. They had rushed right to sex without a foundation. If they continued to see each other, Jen would need to learn about the real Victoria—to see if genuine compatibility, and a deeper connection, were possible. She acknowledged that they had intimate rapport during orgasmic bondage, but that wasn’t a substitute for love, friendship, tenderness and understanding, the glue that held two people together.
Could she even explore a relationship, or was that a dead end because her current place of residence was San Francisco? She would have to move back to Wisconsin and work at Summerfield Clinic if she wanted a relationship with Victoria. Ugh. Too much to think about before coffee.
For this morning, she decided to go with the flow and learn more about her BDSM lover. She soaked in her surroundings, the room bathed in sunlight, seeing anew the pink patina that was a thin disguise for a much darker shade of Victoria’s sex life. Again, Jen felt comfortable with Victoria’s level of play. What they had done last night couldn’t even be described as kink. Greedy and self-indulgent? Yes. Depraved? No.
Her gaze roamed other aspects of the room, looking for more signs of Victoria’s tastes: the mirrored semainier full of sex toys. Was that just a sampling? Were more toys tucked away in deeper drawers? Or perhaps a walk-in closet with bigger equipment? She wondered if a door to the right of the bed contained a BDSM cage that popped out, ready to be unfo
lded and snapped into place. She smiled sardonically at the thought.
Jen recalled the lustful look on Victoria’s face as she had watched Jen intently during the throes of passion. Even though Jen had been 100% at Victoria’s mercy, Victoria had proven herself to be trustworthy. I’ll assume benign intent and trust her. Go with trust. My motto for today is trust. But verify. Maybe I should verify too.
She snagged her cell phone from the bedside table—8:17 am. Niiice. That was the latest she’d slept in months. Her screen indicated that a text message had already arrived. The name attached to it was Dr. Neal Olson. Neal is texting me already? Yuck. She didn’t need a mental picture his bald head and buttoned-up appearance right now. The dichotomy between sartorial Neal and herself in leather handcuffs, however, afforded her a small smackeral of humor. Would he approve? Do I care? She returned her phone to the table without reading Neal’s message.
She actually had been checking for a message from her mother or Tommy, and it was good news that she hadn’t received one. Kristin is fine. While she didn’t have a set time by which she needed to leave Victoria’s, she wanted to be back at the lake by noon, at the latest.
She showered, electing not to use the Coochy Cream and shaver, thank you very much. Proud of her strawberry blonde curls, she just didn’t feel like reshaping her healthy thatch of hair. It was her “up north” look. She shrugged on a tank, her soft flannel, and a pair of holy jeans because Victoria kept the house as cold as a meat locker.
Jen found the kitchen void of Victoria, but there were signs of breakfast preparations, ever the perfect hostess, anticipating her guest’s needs. A full pot of coffee with the green light beaming beckoned to Jen. Next to it sat a mug with the saying “Best Lover” on it. That brought a smile to Jen’s face until she wondered how many women had drunk from that mug. Victoria obviously hadn’t run out and purchased it for Jen this morning. Duh. Maybe it was Victoria’s mug , a gift from a lover.
A note lay on the counter next to the coffee maker. “Pour yourself a cuppa and make yourself at home. I’m walking the dogs. Be back soon. V.”
