12. Aubrey
Aubrey
I spent the next week in a constant state of arousal. Every time I closed my eyes I saw myself bound on the table while Taylor teased my skin with the flogger. But as exciting as the experience was, it was also confusing. I’d never been attracted to a woman. I’d certainly never burned for anyone I’d been with. But I burned for Taylor. I just couldn’t explain it.
A dozen times I started to slide my hand between my legs to get a little relief and every time something made me stop – the memory of that beautiful stern face as she ordered me not to touch myself. There was no way that Taylor would know what I did in the privacy of my own home and yet some previously unknown part of me wanted to obey.
“So you have a hidden kinky side,” my sister Bree said when I told her about my dilemma over dinner midweek. Bree wasn’t only my sister, she was my best friend. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Remember when I dated that guy Bob?” I asked.
“The old guy?”
“He wasn’t that old,” I protested.
Bree raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“He was twelve years older than me. A few times he tried to be all alpha like,” I lowered my voice to imitate my ex-boyfriend, “ This pussy is mine. Don’t come yet. I just laughed at him and said no man was going to control me.”
“But a woman can?”
“No,” I clarified. “Taylor can. I don’t understand why. I mean she made me crawl on the floor and I liked it. I always thought I was a strong woman.”
“You are a strong woman,” Bree said. “Isn’t BDSM all about trust and control? Taylor didn’t take control, you gave her the control. It was your choice. And that’s powerful. Besides, different people push different buttons physically, at least that’s what I’ve found. Taylor pushes your kinky buttons. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Just go for it.”
My sister’s words were still rolling around in my head Saturday morning when I joined Taylor and the rest of the work crew for our community service. The grumpy deputy from last week was back, still grumpy, and this time Taylor and I were assigned different teams. Other than quick glimpses, I didn’t see her all day.
When our shift ended I waited for Taylor by her car, wanting to firm up our plans for the evening. Other than a few brief texts asking for confirmation that I hadn’t touched myself, I hadn’t spoken to her all week.
“Hey, how was your shift?” I asked, trying to be casual.
“It was trash,” she replied sardonically.
I stifled a giggle. “I, uh, wanted to confirm that I was meeting you at the club again tonight?”
“You’re not going to chicken out?” she asked, her tone almost teasing.
“Nope.”
Her voice dropped and she gave me an intense look. “Have you been a good girl? You saved your orgasm for me?”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, giving her my most earnest look. “I swear I haven’t touched myself all week.”
It had been pure torture walking around all week with a case of… well whatever the equivalent of blue balls was.
“Okay, meet me at the club tonight at seven,” she said, showing no reaction to my compliance or my wanting to scene with her again. “Same instructions as last time.”
“Sounds good.”
We stood there looking at each other and the air seemed to grow charged between us. Taylor’s face softened, and my lips parted. I swayed closer, desperate to kiss her, but Taylor took a deep breath and stepped back before I could close the distance between us. A stab of disappointment hit me right in the gut.
“I’ll see you tonight,” she said, walking away without a backward glance.
As I drove home I realized I was totally crushing on her. I wanted her more than I wanted cheap rent. Taylor, however, was cool as ice. I had no idea how she felt about me – if she felt any way about me at all. For all I knew she was just playing with me. She’d told me herself that people didn’t need to be sexually attracted to someone to do a BDSM scene with them.
A few hours later I was naked and laying face down on a spanking bench. My knees were pressed into the padded ledge, my hands gripping the rings beneath me. I wasn’t restrained, but I wouldn’t have moved off the bench for all the money in the world.
Just like last week, Taylor greeted me in the lobby, stopped at the bar for water, then led me back to a private room without a word.
Once I’d gotten situated on the bench she’d started by spanking me with her hand. When she deemed that I was ‘warmed up’ she’d started using some kind of leather paddle. Following Taylor’s instructions, I consciously relaxed my butt cheeks and focused on the sensation of the paddle hitting my delicate skin.
As the heat bloomed I felt myself crying, although I couldn’t say why. The spanking was painful for sure, but just like last time, it was cathartic. It was like every thought in my mind floated away until all I could focus on was the sensations rolling through my body.
Every strike of the paddle seemed to send waves of pleasure to my core, the pain of the paddle giving way to something warm and addictive. By the time Taylor stopped spanking me I was floating in a haze of pleasure – and so wet I could feel my arousal dripping down my inner thighs.
I was too blissed out to be embarrassed about it though.
“You took your spanking well,” Taylor said from behind me. “Good girl.”
I glowed under her praise, then let out a gasp as I felt her fingers move between my legs. I shivered with pleasure.
“I see you enjoyed this punishment as well as the last one,” she said. “You’re turning into quite the pain slut.”
Her voice was even but I instinctively knew that she was pleased about it.
“Do you want to come, Princess?”
“Yes, Mistress. More than anything.”
Those fingers slipped between my pussy lips then slipped back out again. I bit my lip to keep from protesting and was glad I did because Taylor grabbed my hips and pulled me back a bit more on the bench before shifting my knees to the outsides of the bench ledge, widening my legs. Once she had better access to my cunt, her fingers trailed lightly along the external curves, teasing me before pushing inside again.
Taylor began moving her fingers up and down through my folds, shifting back and forth, spreading my moisture and heightening my excitement even more. With every pass she did a wide circle around my clitoris, never getting close enough to give me what I wanted the most, but I told myself to be patient.
I gasped as Taylor inserted one slim finger into my opening, quickly followed by another. I squeezed my inner muscles as she pumped in and out at a steady pace, fucking me with her fingers.
But I needed more. I pressed my belly into the bench and arched my lower back, rolling my hips to chase her fingers. My entire body was on fire now, all my focus on finally – finally – getting an orgasm.
Taylor slid her other arm between my thigh and the bench until she was able to reach my clit. She pressed one finger against it, pressing it against the bone beneath, then slid it back and forth a few times. The edges of my vision turned fuzzy as I rode the edge between pleasure and pain.
I was making sounds now that were somewhere between a gasp and a whine. I’d had sex before, of course, mostly with long-term partners. They’d all been male. All needed at least some level of direction to get me off. But not Taylor. She knew exactly what she was doing and how to wring every drop of pleasure out of my willing body.
When Taylor pinched my clit I finally broke the silence. I’d never begged during sex before, never begged for anything in my life in fact, but now I was willing to do anything, anything at all, to finally get some relief.
“Please!” I begged. “I need to come Mistress. Please, please let me come. Pleeeease!”
The last word came out as a long wail.
A few frustrating seconds passed before I heard Taylor say, “You may come now.”
Then she curled her fingers inside me while giving my clitoris another hard pinch with her other hand. I screamed her name as my body started to shudder with the force of my orgasm. It seemed to go on and on, Taylor stroking me through the waves of pleasure until I finally collapsed down onto the bench again, gasping for breath. Totally sated.
If this was what it was like having sex with a woman – or at least getting finger fucked by a woman – I’d been missing a lot of incredible orgasms being only with men. I’d slept with my fair share of guys but I’d never come so hard that I left my body.
I heard Taylor move to the sink in the corner, then the water turned on. She returned a few seconds later. Her blonde hair was a little disheveled.
“Get up,” she said in that cold, bossy voice. “Our time here is almost up.”
I stood up on unsteady feet, feeling shellshocked. My body was still vibrating and I’d barely caught my breath.
“That was…”
My words trailed off as I looked at her. She met my gaze, not a trace of emotion showing on her impassive face. Despite what we’d shared the last hour she seemed distant. Cold even. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I might as well have been a stranger she passed on the street corner for all the emotion she was showing.
Taylor had just given me the most incredible orgasm of my life. Had it meant anything to her at all?