Chapter Twenty-Six
Mari
Here we are again. Roos and me, on the stage at QISS, lights giving our skin a soft glow and only hushed murmurings and clinking glass as background noise. Until Roos puts the vibrator between my legs again.
I didn’t come here expecting to be the one cuffed to the St Andrew’s Cross facing the audience.
I fully expected Roos to resume her usual position and for me to pick up where I left off with paddles and maybe a little wax play, which had been so fun a few weeks ago.
But all it took was one look at Roos as she waited for me at the bridge near QISS, and I knew tonight would be different.
She could hardly keep still. She squeezed me a little tighter than usual when we said hello.
And when we got inside and took our coats off, she looked me up and down like I was a piece of meat and she was a carnivore who hadn’t eaten in weeks.
I knew what she was going to ask before the words tumbled out of her mouth as we walked up the stairs together.
“Mari, can I top you tonight? Do you feel happy to be submissive?”
Because I hadn’t expected it until seeing her, I hadn’t really thought about it, but when I saw how excited Roos was, and how delicious she looked in skin-tight PVC trousers and a bodice with a corset that cinched her waist just so, I immediately felt a rush of desire for her.
For her to take whatever she wanted from me.
“I feel very happy with that,” I answered, and she lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles in an action that felt like a thank you and a please.
We didn’t go up on stage immediately. First, we watched two men play with one woman who was strapped into the sex swing on the stage, both of them edging her until she was crying and half the audience was squirming in their chairs. It did nothing to slow down my arousal.
Then, Mother Maria had her turn with Bo, who wasn’t working. She tied up their body in a position that bound their hands and feet together, and then she used nothing but a feather and her dirty, dirty words to bring them to the most tantalising, slow climax.
Once they had left the stage, I was practically in a running start position, ready to throw myself up there. Roos was no different. She was standing before Mother Maria had even addressed the audience.
And now, I’m suffering in the most wonderful way.
Completely naked but for the X-cross’ cuffs and a rope harness that criss-crosses my body, framing my breasts just tightly enough that it highlights how full and heavy they are, and lining the outside of my cunt, the rope getting more abrasive as more and more blood flows to my groin.
I had no idea Roos knew what to do with ropes – we never got the chance for her to show me that – and impressed was one of the many things I felt as she had tied me up.
Until her mouth was on me. Then I felt nothing but need.
For more. For less. For everything. For nothing at all.
I thrusted up into her face. I closed my eyes and moaned.
The audience melted away. There was nobody else on this planet but me and Roos.
But then she stopped. She walked away, leaving me gasping and panting, a tremor wracking my body from the ache of being left so close to the edge.
When I watched her return with a vibrator in hand – a round-headed purple one – I started to smile.
And laugh. I laughed manically, knowing full well what kind of trouble I was in now.
I was right. I am in trouble. I’m desperate and inconsolable with need.
Sweat drips down the side of my face. My nipples are so tight they hurt.
I’m light-headed in that most perfect way where it makes the whole world feel more clear, more transparent, more navigable.
Like all the opaqueness of struggle has evaporated, and anything, anything is possible.
Anything is possible, but only one thing is necessary.
My orgasm. It’s all I want. It’s my sole focus. And it’s completely at Roos’ mercy.
“Thank fuck,” I groan when the vibe is back on me. I catch Roos’ eye, and she winks at me, a mischievous grin changing the shape of her face. Another dimension of her beauty I could fall in love with.
“Does that feel better?” she asks in my ear. Words only for me. I wish they were tangible things I could keep forever.
“Uh-huh.” I nod. “Please don’t stop.”
The tension is building again. Everything inside me pulling tight and taut. Just a few more seconds, and it will break loose. I will break free.
“You don’t want me to stop?” The pressure of the vibe eases ever so slightly. She’s lifted it off me.
“No, please, no,” I beg, and I know it’s loud enough for other people to hear, but I don’t care.
“Like this?” She lifts the vibrator off me completely, raising it high enough for me to see it.
“Roos, fuck, please.” I sound like I’m crying. Maybe I am.
“But this is so much fun,” she says. Then she puts the vibrator back on me, but not my cunt.
On one of my nipples. It’s so ferocious, it almost feels like it’s burning my areola, but I’m so desperate for sensation, for friction, that I arch my back and press against my restraints to push into it as much as I can.
Just as I’m adjusting to it, Roos moves the vibrator to my other nipple. Another angry moan erupts out of me.
“They’re so vocal,” Mother Maria says from somewhere behind Roos. “I love it.”
“I do too,” says Roos, and she holds my stare as she says it.
It’s not just that Roos is topping me that makes this feel different. There’s been more of that. Eye contact. And more words that could have double meaning. Words that are made of hope and the future. In my blissed-out state, I take each one to be a sign. A good sign.
“Oh, God, yes,” I groan at the idea of us having a future.
Every single day since my first night at QISS, I’ve wanted to ask Roos if we could try again.
If we could pick things up where we left off, or fuck that, start all over again.
After the three times we played together prior to tonight, I’ve rehearsed speeches where I would declare my intentions, my hopes, my dreams for us.
I even wrote one of them down. All my thoughts and my feelings.
But that letter was ripped out of my notebook and ripped to shreds.
All of my speeches have gone unspoken. But maybe tonight… Maybe tonight really is different.
Roos rolls the head of the vibe down over the curve of my breast and over the soft rolls of my stomach. I twitch with anticipation. She has to take pity on me soon. She has to let me come.
“You’re doing so well, Mari.” She leans in closer again to whisper in my ear. “Such a good little plaything for me.”
“Slut,” I spit out as the vibe slides over the flesh covering my pubic bone. Praise is too gentle for me right now. And I don’t want gentle. I want to feel. I want to be pushed, shamed, humiliated. I want pain. “Call me your dirty little slut.”
Roos’ face breaks out into another evil smile. “Oh, yes. I can do that. You dirty whore. You greedy little slut.”
I moan as I close my eyes with pleasure. The words, the degradation, in her accent, are heavenly.
“Open your eyes,” Roos insists. “I need to see what you look like when I tell you something very important.”
“What?” I ask hungrily. Does she have a speech for me? Does she want a future just as much as I do? Has it been enough time?
The vibrator skips over my clit, not stopping, and Roos thrusts it between my legs, grazing my labia, which are almost as sensitive as my clitoris.
“You like being watched, don’t you?” she asks.
“Yes.” I nod. “I really do.”
“You’re such a slut for the attention. You like to turn all these strangers on, don’t you?”
“Fuck, yes, I do. I do.”
“What if I told you they weren’t all strangers?”
“What?” I open my eyes wider and search the crowd.
“Remember your safe word,” Roos says, her playful tone slipping into something more serious. “But I wanted to do this for you. For us.”
“Do what?”
Roos draws in a sharp breath, and her eyes search my face, uncertain, a little afraid. It’s the first crack in her composure all night.
“Do what, Roos?” I repeat.
“Lex is here,” she says.
I open my mouth. Ready to shout, to cry, to safe word out. To make all of this stop. But no words come out.
“I think it’s good that xe is here,” Roos explains, holding my eye contact and still moving the vibe back and forth, back and forth with only the briefest touch to my clit. To the audience, it looks like we’re having an intimate conversation while she fucks me.
“Why?” I ask, incredulous. Why would she want to do this?
“To show xem how strong we are,” she says, her tone all solemn and pure now. “To show xem that we don’t need xem. That we have each other.”
“Do…do we have each other?” I ask.
“If you want me,” Roos says, and finally – finally – she moves the vibe forward and keeps it right there against my swollen clit.
“I want you, Roos,” I say immediately, easily.
“Then let’s give xem a show,” Roos says, and all my previous thoughts go out the window.
Up until now, I’ve seen and felt Lex’s proximity like a threat, a bad thing. But what if it was something else? What if Roos and I took control? What if we are the threat?
“We can stop anytime you want. We can finish this in a private room. But I want xem to see us like this. I want Lex to know we don’t need xem.”
“We don’t need xem,” I repeat. It’s all I can say because the vibe is exactly where I want it, and my whole body is melting. Melting back into that clear-headed state where nothing else matters. Not even Lex matters.
“So do it, my perfect slut,” Roos says. “Show Lex just how much you don’t need xem.”
“I don’t need xem,” I mumble. It’s a mantra at this point.
“No, you don’t, but what do you need?” Roos takes the vibe off my clit.
I cry out. “You!” I gasp. “Please, Roos, please. I need to come.”
My whimpering continues as Roos puts the vibe back on my clit, and then my face is pinched in her fingers and twisted so she can kiss me.
And it is her kissing me that takes me to the edge.
I’m so far gone, so swept away in what’s happening to my body, and what’s happening in my mind – fuck Lex, fuck you, Lex!
Look at me! Look at us, without you! – that I can barely control my lips, my teeth, my tongue as I brace myself for my climax.
But Roos doesn’t seem to mind. She doesn’t care as she keeps her mouth on mine and holds the vibe on top of my clit.
“You take it so well,” she breaks away to tell me. “My perfect little slut.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I pant. “Fuck, yes.”
“You.” She taps the vibrator on me between each word. “Are. Mine. Never. Forget. It.”
And that’s what I need. That affirmation. Those very real words of hope and the future.
I crumble into my orgasm with a devastating sob, my body shaking and my eyes squeezed closed. Roos’ lips and teeth are on my neck, and the vibe doesn’t move as each wave of pleasure consumes my whole body, from my hair follicles to my toenails.
Roos keeps the vibe there until I’m crying in earnest, trying to shift my body away from the vibration. It’s too much. It’s too much. It’s all too much.
For a second, I think she’s going to push me into another orgasm, and I’m not sure I’ll live through it.
But then the vibrator is gone, and hands are on the cuffs at my wrists, and I’m free.
I can move. Less than a minute later, my ankles are also free.
Someone hands me a robe that is soft and smells like clean laundry, and it’s wrapped around me in a way that reminds me of the warm towels my mum would wrap me up in after a bath.
I close my eyes and lean against the body that is suddenly next to mine.
It’s when I inhale the floral scents of peonies and lavender that I know it’s Roos and I know I’m safe.
I’m safe.
I could even be home.