Radical Encounters

by Radclyffe

  “Nothing.”

  She had that short, snarly tone that told me she was pissed about something. Her eyes get really dark—black—when she’s angry, and they were like ink now.

  “You wanted to come to the Pride Festival, remember?” I, on the other hand, had wanted to stay home by the pool with a cool drink. I hadn’t found the celebrations very interesting or exciting since Showtime and First Union started showing up. Gone were the days of Dykes on Bikes and fags in nuns’ habits. Sigh. “So now you got me here, and you’re all pouty.”

  “I don’t fucking pout.”

  I almost laughed, because for such a tough butch, she’s adorable when she pouts. And she was pouting. “So what’s the matter?”

  “I didn’t expect every dyke within a hundred miles to have eyes glued to your ass.”

  I almost turned around to see if I had a little chain of eyeballs trailing from my skirt, but I could tell she really wasn’t in the mood for joking around. “I haven’t noticed anyone cruising me.”

  I meant it, and she must’ve been able to tell, because her flinty expression softened. She stroked my bare shoulder, then leaned close and kissed the side of my neck, just below my ear. It was sweet, and I murmured appreciatively. But she also knew that the particular spot she was currently nibbling, ever so lightly, was directly connected to my clit. She was reminding me just where I belonged. I got the message.

  “Are you sure you wanna be here?” My voice sounded husky, and it was totally beyond my control. It’d been like that since the first time I’d seen her across the room at a party. She’d looked remote and a little bored, leaning against the wall with a bottle of beer in one hand. She’d also looked hot in tight black jeans and a T-shirt that flattered her rower’s shoulders. When she’d caught me staring, she’d grinned with just enough insolence to make me turn my back and walk away from her. Those sexy dykes who just know they make women drool are always trouble. The next thing I knew, she had me pinned to a wall in a dark corner with her mouth on my neck and her hands up my skirt. I hadn’t minded a bit.

  I rubbed my palm over her tight belly. I always think about those guys who tame alligators when I do that. “Change your mind?”

  “I did want to check it out,” she said, her mouth moving on my neck, “but now I’m thinking I’d rather be at home where I can lick you in all the places that make you squirm.”

  My clit twitched. Damn her. She owned me and she knew it, but every now and then, I liked to remind her that I’m not as easy as she thinks. Today was one of those days, and I was determined to make her wait. Even if it killed me.

  “Uh-uh. You got me down here, and now I want to see what’s going on.”

  I didn’t wait for her reply but rejoined the milling crowd wandering through the narrow cobblestone streets. Ten seconds later I felt her right behind me, her palm in the middle of my bare back. I didn’t try to shrug her off. I’m not that strong, or that crazy. Besides, I love it when she touches me. We strolled with the flow, up and down the streets in the four-square-block area devoted to the festival. Nearing the intersection of Pine and 13th, I saw a crowd gathered across from the gay bookstore. Curious, I headed in that direction. As I drew closer, I heard a rhythmic slapping sound, like a flag snapping in the wind. People stood four deep, necks craning to see whatever was happening on the corner. I’m not tall, but I’m wily. With my girlfriend in my wake, I insinuated myself between the bodies until I could see what all the commotion was about. When I got my first glimpse, I stopped so quickly my girlfriend rammed my ass with her crotch. Naturally, she stayed put and simply wrapped both arms around my middle, holding me against her front.

  “Wow,” she breathed in my ear.

  Wow indeed. Ten feet away, a person—gender unknown—leaned over a leather-covered bench while a chick in knee-high patent leather boots, garter belt, fishnet stockings, and black lace panties with matching bustier beat his or her ass with a wooden paddle. With every blow, the bare butt twitched and a low moan floated on the air. The center of each round cheek blushed red. Watching the surprisingly well-defined muscles in the chick’s forearms bunch each time the paddle fell and seeing the rhythmic jerk of the flagellant’s hips followed by a breathy moan had my clit twitching again. I was lost in the rhythm of it all when suddenly it stopped. I caught my breath and realized for the first time that my girlfriend’s hand cradled my left breast, her thumb flicking my stiff nipple. I also realized I was wet. When I reached back, cupped her crotch, and squeezed, she groaned softly and set her teeth into the back of my neck.

  Aha.

  “Anyone else want to try?” the dark-haired dom asked the crowd in general. “If you’re a novice, I’ll be gentle.”

  My girlfriend tongued the spot she’d just bitten, then sucked it. She does that when she’s hot. I wasn’t sure exactly what had my girl so turned on, but if it was this little item in black leather, I was going to be certain that it wasn’t her for much longer.

  “Yeah,” I said, stepping forward so unexpectedly my girlfriend lost her grip on me. “I’ll go.”

  From behind me, I heard my girlfriend’s grunt of surprise. I looked back, smiled sweetly, and said, “Stand someplace I can see you, baby.”

  “If you’re new,” the chick said with just the tiniest hint of condescension, “we don’t have to do it on the bare. You can take it on your skirt. It won’t hurt as much.”

  Ha. You wish I’d let you top me. Without a word, I turned my back and hiked my skirt up to my waist. I was wearing a black silk thong that I figured showed enough of my ass to prove my point. Then I leaned down on my elbows on the bench and got myself comfortable. If I bowed my back, which handily put my butt in the air, I could look up and see my girlfriend’s face a few feet away. Her eyes were that dangerous black again and riveted on me. One hand was clenched at her side, and the other was hooked over the pocket of her jeans, her thumb tucked inside, her fingers just touching her fly. Everybody else was looking at my ass, and it was as if she and I existed in some parallel universe, just the two of us. I started to smile, then caught my breath at the searing pain that lanced across my ass. I gasped, I couldn’t help myself. She’d caught me by surprise, the bitch. I never moved my eyes from my girlfriend’s.

  The next blow smarted just as much, but I was a little bit more prepared. It hurt, and that was a fact. The backs of my thighs tingled, and I couldn’t help but clench my butt—I don’t know if it helped or not, and by the third blow I had tears in my eyes. My vision was just a little bit blurry, but not so much that I couldn’t see my girlfriend’s hips twitch each time the paddle fell. Her fingers were shaking as they moved lower on her crotch.

  Four. I pulled my lip between my teeth and moaned softly. It still hurt, but the fire had become a glow that was spreading through the thick muscles of my ass into the valley between my thighs. I felt moisture soak the thin strand of thong in my cleft, and my clit gave a little series of warning twitches. The pain, the pleasure—it was all happening at once, and I couldn’t sort it out. Didn’t want to—I just didn’t want it to stop.

  Five. I gave a little cry and heard my girlfriend groan. Her lids were heavy, her lips slightly parted, and I saw her fingertips digging into the denim between her legs. She was trying to get at her clit.

  Mine didn’t seem to need to be touched. Each time the paddle fell, the pressure in my clit grew as if I were milking it between my fingers. The skin of my ass was on fire, but it was nothing compared to what was happening inside me.

  Six. I mouthed the words, I want to come.

  My girlfriend’s thighs shook as she palmed herself through her jeans, twisting and jerking the material in her fist. She didn’t look as if she cared who saw her.

  Seven. I was moaning nonstop, my pelvis making little jerky thrusts as if I was fucking someone underneath me. My clit felt like it was ready to explode. I hoped so. I wanted it to. All I could feel was my heart beating out the end of it. God, God, I wanted to shoot it.

  Eig
ht.

  She’s making me come, I whispered—or maybe I screamed it. She’s making me come.

  Nine. My girlfriend’s fingers, white against the black denim, squeezed down on her clit, and her hips jerked as if she’d taken the blow. When the paddle cracked down, the pain shot through my ass and into my clit, and I came in a rush, wailing in surprise.

  Ten. My girlfriend grunted and came and I roared into another mind-blowing orgasm right on top of the first.

  I don’t remember very much about the next few minutes, except whimpering faintly as I leaned against my girlfriend’s broad chest. Her heart hammered beneath my cheek, and I felt her body tremble. Faintly I heard the chick with the paddle ask if anyone else wanted to go. She sounded a little breathless. Good.

  “Did she hurt you, baby?” my girlfriend crooned as she smoothed her hand over my hair and pressed her lips to my forehead.

  “Yes,” I murmured, nuzzling her neck, my arms around her waist. My ass still throbbed, and so did my clit, point and counterpoint. God, I was so ready for more.

  “You want me to hurt her?”

  “Some other time.” I pressed my hips into her crotch. “Take me home so you can lick me in all those places that make me squirm.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” she said in that dark smoky tone that means she’s hot for me.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I think I’ll start by kissing all those hurt spots. Then I’ll lick them.”

  Oh yeah, the payoff was definitely gonna be worth it in the end.

  Top of the Class

  Allie punched in the first three digits of Cindy’s phone number and then hesitated. With a sigh, she pushed the off button and surveyed the mountain of clothes that had sprouted in the middle of the bed as she’d tried on and discarded outfit after outfit. Somehow, the excuse that she couldn’t go out because she had nothing to wear felt thin, even to her.

  “I can’t believe I let them talk me into something as stupid as this.” She fingered the leather chaps she had purchased one summer for a horseback camping trip. Smiling, she recalled that the concept had been a little bit more glamorous than the actual event, but it had still been fun. Of course, most of the clothes she’d purchased for the eight-day excursion never saw any further use. “And they’re not going to tonight, either.”

  Eyeing the black leather pants and mesh top with a shake of her head, she scooped up the whole pile and dumped it on a chair, then marched to the closet and pulled out what she usually wore for a night out with friends—jeans and a scoop-necked, ribbed white T-shirt. All right, so it was true that the simple attire always got her plenty of attention. The jeans hugged her high, tight ass, and with no bra under the form-fitting T-shirt, her breasts just screamed for a warm palm to cup them. The thought of fingers playing across her tight nipples caused her belly to twitch. “Okay. Okay. So maybe they’re right and I do need a little recreational sex, but vanilla will do me just fine.”

  A glance at the clock told her she had less than ten minutes before Cindy and Jeri arrived to pick her up. She still wasn’t certain how she’d let them talk her into going with them to Chances, the local leather bar. Just because she’d played that stupid Truth or Dare game at Jeri’s birthday party and had even more stupidly told the truth about one of her favorite fantasies was no reason to repay her honesty by dragging her out to a club where she would only feel out of place.

  “So come on, Al, tell,” Cindy prodded. “What’s your favorite jerk-off fantasy?”

  “What makes you think I—”

  Cindy and Jeri hooted her down, and Allie grinned.

  “Okay, okay. Truth.” She sighed. “I want to top this incredibly hot butch and have my way with her.”

  “So why haven’t you?” Cindy asked.

  “I haven’t a clue how to go about it. Afraid of being turned down, I guess.”

  “Yeah, but,” Jeri chimed in, “if you didn’t have to worry about any of that…what would you do?”

  “I’d tie her up and torment her and then fuck her silly.”

  And after that, they’d badgered and cajoled until she’d agreed to at least go with them, just to see.

  “So, I’ll stay for a drink or two to keep them happy, and then I’ll beg off,” Allie muttered as she leaned close to the mirror to apply her eye makeup. “At least then they won’t call me a chicken any longer.”

  At the sound of her doorbell ringing, she shouted down the hall from her bedroom, “I’ll be right out!”

  Hastily, she grabbed her keys and pulled open the door. “Oh!”

  The woman standing on her front porch looked like she’d stepped directly out of Allie’s favorite wet dream. Short thick dark hair, cobalt blue eyes, a lopsided grin, and even, white teeth. The package was spectacular, and the wrapping even better. Long lean legs sheathed in skintight black leather, a matching vest over nothing but flesh, and a suggestive swelling below the wide studded belt that signaled a surprise tucked behind her fly. Her bare arms and stomach were tight with muscle. A silver bar pierced the top of her navel, and a tribal band tattoo circled her left biceps.

  Allie resisted the impulse to touch her just to see if she was real.

  “Allie?” Gorgeous Creature inquired.

  “Yes?” Allie replied in a high, thin voice she barely recognized. She cleared her throat, feeling foolish. “Can I help you?”

  Again the megawatt grin, this time accompanied by a subtle shrug of broad, strong shoulders that set off ripples of pleasure in the pit of Allie’s stomach.

  “I’m Ryan.” Fantasy Lover extended her hand. “And I’m yours for the evening.”

  Allie stared. Heartbreak Material was obviously a nutcase. “There’s been a mistake.”

  Ryan smiled as if she’d heard that one before.

  Allie hurried on, “I was just on my way out.” She started to close the door. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  “Cindy and Jeri won’t be coming, so there’s no need to hurry.”

  The little voice of reason in Allie’s head screamed, Close the door! but the part of her brain ruled by Id won out. She leaned against the half-open door. “How do you know them?”

  Ryan slid two long, tapering fingers into the slit pocket on the front of her vest and teased out a folded piece of paper. She held it out between her fingers. Clever fingers. “The work order.”

  “I’m sure there’s…” Allie took the note, skimmed the few lines, and laughed in disbelief. “They paid for you to be my…slave?”

  “If you desire.” Ryan nodded toward the paper. “Apparently they thought you would prefer that. However, if you would like to reverse the scene, that can be arranged.”

  “I’m going to kill them,” Allie muttered under her breath. Still, she was beyond intrigued, and there really didn’t seem to be anything overtly crazy about the woman standing in front of her. Well, if you didn’t count the fact that she…hired out…as a sex slave. She looked Ryan up and down. “And if I want to be the slave, do you just…switch?”

  “I can,” Ryan said seriously, “but you might prefer a replace—”

  “No!” Allie spoke so quickly that she surprised them both. Blushing, she added hastily, “I mean, this…arrangement…seems fine.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Allie studied Ryan’s face, certain that she had heard gentle sincerity in her voice. But then, nothing about the situation was real. So what did it matter how she sounded? “You’re serious?”

  “Yes, quite.”

  “Are you…is this…safe?”

  Ryan nodded. “If you mean me, yes. If you mean anything that might happen, the answer is also yes. I’m experienced, and you can trust that I won’t allow anything to happen that either of us would regret.”

  Allie released the door, and it swung open as she leaned her back against the doorjamb, her arms crossed just below her breasts. The very idea of having sex with Ryan, a perfect stranger, was perversely exciting. She was hot. But every time Allie thought of actually
dominating her, of being free to do anything she wanted with her, she felt a thrill that was entirely new. It went beyond physical excitement. It was as if every cell in her body buzzed with sexual anticipation. “And you’ll enjoy it?”

  Ryan bowed her head, dropping her gaze from Allie’s for the first time. “It would be my pleasure to serve you.”

  “I don’t know wh—”

  “Perhaps you wish to bring me inside where it is more private. So you may examine me and determine if I please you. Mistress.”

  Allie’s breath caught as heat raced over her skin. She knew if she thought about what she was doing, she’d close the door and leave Ryan standing alone in the dark. And she’d never know if her fantasies were any more than that—unrequited dreams. She’d imagined just what she’d do so many times—she’d only been waiting for permission. She stepped inside. “Follow me.”

  Then Allie turned and walked to her bedroom. She did not look back when she flicked on the small lamp just inside the door, but she knew Ryan was behind her. She could smell her. The thick, hot odor of desire. She sensed as soon as Ryan had lowered her gaze that she was saying Allie was in charge, and Allie didn’t intend to pass up this chance to do what she’d been dreaming of.

  “Kneel by the bed,” Allie said, pleased by the quickly muffled gasp. She slowly circled Ryan’s kneeling form, all of her senses inexplicably heightened. She saw the tiny hairs at the back of Ryan’s neck flutter as she passed and heard the breath rush in and out of Ryan’s chest. Seeing all that power and beauty harnessed and waiting, hers to command, drove the last whispers of resistance from her consciousness. Everything in the room receded from her awareness except Ryan and the steady rush of blood into her pulsing clit.