Denise liked Mindy a lot. She had been attracted to the short-haired, vaguely butch girl ever since they met at a party held by a mutual acquaintance, but at this point it was beyond physical lust. There was something about the girl’s personality, the quiet energy she radiated, that Denise found herself addicted to. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but after Mindy left she always found herself desperately wanting more.
So they spent more and more time together, rationalizing it as just another fifteen minutes at the bar or just another hour over at Denise’s house watching old movies. It was this stickiness that meant that even in the first moon of their courtship they had spent this whole weekend stuck to each other. Yes, everything seemed to be going well on the romantic front indeed.
But some things override affection, are such completely unforgivable secrets that all the cute smiles in the world can’t overcome them. And Mindy had just dropped one of those deal-breakers on the small table of the crowded breakfast restaurant.
Denise stared agape. “You don’t like music? What does that even mean?”
Mindy shrugged. “What it sounds like.”
“No, but I mean — you can not like rap music, or rock, or country, but music itself is just too big. Everyone likes some kind of music. Even old people listen to music. It’s a part of our culture. You can’t just dismiss it all.”
Mindy glanced towards their waitress, balancing two trays of eggy dishes through the fried haze. But alas, she walked on past them without depositing any of the life-sustaining breakfast. “Look, I’ve heard this rant a lot of times. It just doesn’t do anything for me. Maybe I’m tone-deaf or something.”
“Well have you only listened to the radio? Because there’s a lot of better stuff out there, let me tell you. When we get home I’m lending you my Fugazi comp.” Denise was adamant about this, leaning forward and staring at her girlfriend with all the intensity of a human rights tribunal.
“I’ve listened to a bit of indie music and all that,” said Mindy. “But I’m just pretty indifferent to the whole thing. I mean, I guess I’d always rather watch a movie instead.” Denise could believe this — Mindy’s walls were covered with posters of films from Die Hard to Talk to Her to films that Denise had never even heard of. But it wasn’t like Denise never watched movies, or said categorically that she didn’t like them.
Still, she could tell Mindy was a bit uncomfortable about the inquisition. “I guess I’ll have to find someone else to see St. Vincent with next month.”
Mindy stared at the no-smoking sign on the table and muttered “So, um… about what we were talking about last night…”
“This is you changing the subject?”
Mindy turned crimson. It was kind of the most adorable thing.
It had first come out in bed last night, when both of them had been staring up at the ceiling stunned. Neither had intended to go all the way, just to fool around a bit. But there was a kind of incredible chemistry between their bodies, which responded to each other giddily and quickly wrested control away from their reluctant minds. The next thing she knew, Mindy was burrowed into her pussy, and Denise had found herself shouting out orders along with the occasional epithet.
In their state of postcoital relaxation, Mindy had confessed that she had loved it when Denise bossed her around, and the two of them started talking about fantasies, which soon got pretty kinky, as if both of them were trying to top the other and make them say uncle, or perhaps “freak”. But they weren’t ashamed — with their bodies pressed together in Denise’s single bed, a strange frankness ruled.
But that didn’t seem to be the case anymore, judging by the furious blush spreading across Mindy’s face and down her neck. Denise smiled and took the petite girl’s hand in hers. “It’s okay. That was just pillow talk. It didn’t have to mean anything.”
“No, I mean… I wanna try it,” said Mindy. “All that stuff I’ve always felt bad about fantasizing about. Getting tied up, getting dominated, being whipped and choked… I dunno.” Denise glanced around for prurient eavesdroppers, but the din of conversation was far too loud to hear any one speaker in particular. “I mentioned it to my last girlfriend and she just said that I was internalizing my guilt or societal misogyny or something. Maybe she was right.”
“Maybe,” said Denise. “But I mean, you don’t get to choose what turns you on. Why doesn’t matter — the only question I’m thinking of is how.” She gave her new girlfriend an askew grin.
Mindy was now expecting in detail every chip on the diner table’s surface. “Can you forget I said anything?”
“Aw, are you becoming repressed?”
“No. It’s just — I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, is all.”
Denise thought about that for a moment. It was true — she had never fantasized about whips and chains the way Mindy apparently had, rubbing herself furiously to poorly-written S&M erotica. Sure, she yelled out some vulgar and downright mean stuff during sex — but that was just dirty talk. It was a normal part of copulation for her. But she wasn’t entirely opposed to going a bit further. And she desperately wanted to please this nervous creature before her.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” said Denise. “In fact, why don’t we go back to your place after this and I show you exactly how much I don’t mind.”
Mindy paled, glancing around to see if any of the other diners were listening to Denise’s increasingly bald provocations, but once again everyone else was too absorbed in their own business. She tried to stutter out a response, but couldn’t quite manage. Denise had a sudden desire to bend her over the table and start fingerfucking her right there. She was just so cute when she was nervous.
Then the food came, and it spared Mindy from having to come up with a response to that. But Denise was going to make sure that this wasn’t over.
The two women actually lived within a half-dozen blocks of each other, a fact that had amazed them both but ultimately suggested a kind of fate that neither of them was quite comfortable believing in. Denise tended bar at a local gastropub while Mindy was finishing up her bachelor’s in anthropology. The breakfast restaurant had been an unnecessary but delicious stopover between Denise’s basement apartment, rented from a nice and undercharging older couple, and Mindy’s slim duplex. Denise was kind of startled by the light as she walked into her partner’s place: she wasn’t used to homes that were above ground.
“So, uh, you want to watch a movie or something?” said Mindy, gesturing towards a full wall of DVD racks.
Denise grabbed Mindy by the collar. “I had something different in mind.”
She moved in for a kiss, but was put off a bit by the expression on Mindy’s face. It was nervousness cut with a bit of fear. She looked uncomfortable. The last thing Denise had ever wanted to do was make Mindy uncomfortable. She considered letting go, stopping this thing — whatever this thing was — before it got out of hand. After all, hadn’t she be the one pushing it, trying to turn a fantasy into reality against Mindy’s own reservations.
But then she noticed a bit of hope, maybe even desire, mixed in among the anxiety. Maybe Mindy wanted to be pushed out of her comfort zone, to be made to feel as though she was under attack. Maybe that panic was what got her off. Denise didn’t understand it herself, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t go along with it.
And so she tightened her hold on the petite girl’s collar. “We sh — I mean, we’re going to the bedroom.” Mindy nodded meekly.
With the other girl’s shirt bunched up in her fist, Denise lead Mindy up the stairs to the queen-sized navy blue bed, whose sheets they had messed up a few times already. Denise lightly shoved Mindy towards the bed, and Mindy rushed onto it, rolling over into a prone position. God, it was so easy to dominate her. Mindy’s eyes shone with a level of compliance that was downright spooky.
The only problem was that Denise wasn’t quite sure what to do next. She tried to put herself in the shoes of a dominant, but all she could think of was one of those asshole guys from porn. “Take you clothes off,” she said, hoping it was appropriately authoritative.
It worked. Mindy began fumbling with the buttons of her flannel shirt, and a strange rush went through Denise as she saw her order obeyed. With trembling hands Mindy eventually shucked the shirt, and then the slim black tank top beneath it, and then the sports bra under that. She unpeeled herself, revealing under each layer more and more of that soft creamy skin. And then, at last, her little conical tits bravely venturing forth into the world.
If it weren’t for the shaking of her hands one could almost describe the way Mindy disrobed as businesslike, maybe even a little mechanical. She calmly hooked her thumbs into the jean skirt she had been wearing and tugged it down until it fell into a clump around her ankles. She did the same for her plain black panties. The last thing to be removed were her neon-coloured kneesocks, a prodigiously cute item that Denise had envied but knew quietly that she would never be able to make work. Mindy then climbed onto the bed silently and rolled over. She presented herself with her bent legs spread apart, like waves parting to reveal the holy land: her bushy, moist cunt.
Denise looked on hungrily. She wanted very badly to just fling her own clothes off and jump on top of her girlfriend. But for some reason she didn’t think that was an appropriately dominant response. It was strange — it felt as though she was playing a character, but the script was inside her, which suggested that maybe it wasn’t so much of a character after all. It was a strange, half-disembodied sensation that made her totally wet.
Denise walked around the bed, trying her best to look clinically and a bit disinterestedly at the gorgeous display of girlflesh before her. Her rapidly-melting mind was buzzing, trying to figure out what to do before she lost complete control. The colourful kneesocks at her feet gave her a flash of inspiration.
“Sit up,” she said, her voice almost breaking. Mindy swiftly complied, turning over on the bed. God, that was eerie. “Put your hands, uh, on the head board.” More instant obedience. Denise couldn’t help but watch Mindy’s tits jiggle and thrust as she stretched her arms backwards.
Mindy’s right hand was still too far from the nearest bedpost, so Denise had to grab her by the wrist and pull it close enough. She wrapped the first of the kneesocks around that wrist and the post, stretching out the nylon, and then tied it in a quick sailor’s knot. Of course, the bed was way too bed for little Mindy to be spread all the way across it, but fortunately there was a little bar running above the headboard so Denise could tie the other hand to that.
She stepped back to take a look at her handiwork. To be honest, it looked a little ridiculous, her girlfriend bound by brightly coloured garments to her creaky old headboard. But hey, people liked getting tied up, right? But did Mindy like getting tied up? Denise wasn’t sure, but she thought that if Mindy strongly objected she would say something instead of just looking up at her, twisting her head around, doe-eyed and expectant.
So now she had a cute girl tied to her bedpost and helpless. What now?
Well, that was a stupid question. Denise climbed up onto the bed behind Mindy and leaned in to kiss her girlfriend on the hollow of her throat. She felt and relished the full-body shiver that went through Mindy. Trying her best to be patient and methodical, she kissed her way down the other girl’s stomach, leaving soft wet marks where she went. Mindy shifted under her, but there was nowhere she could go.
Denise paused when she got to her partner’s lower regions. The rosebud of her puckered ass was extremely tempting. So was her fragrant pussy, but Denise knew that if she started there she would never stop. They had never talked about anal play, but hey, it couldn’t hurt. And hey, she was in charge, right? So she pressed her lips to the base of her girl’s crack and darted her tongue forward.
“Oh!” Mindy sounded shocked, but it was the good kind of shocked, like a present when it wasn’t your birthday. Denise ran her tongue back and forth along the entrance to Mindy’s ass, drawing moans and groans. Again the petite girl tried to shift, maybe to get more comfortable or maybe to reciprocate, but she was stuck, trapped in this position of total surrender.
Denise expected a thoroughly unpleasant taste and smell as she tongued Mindy’s asshole, but like the rest of her it was clean and soft. This just furthered Denise’s suspicions that the girl had fallen from the heavens — even her ass smelt like roses. Still, she drew her lips back, and instead dipped her right hand into the copious moistness of Mindy’s pussy. With her fingers nicely lubricated she slid first one, then the other, into the tight tunnel of her girlfriend’s asshole. Mindy shivered with each penetration, and moaned lustily as Denise ran her fingertips along the soft contours of her inner walls. Denise grinned. She could get used to this.
With her other hang she began lightly stroking Mindy’s pussy, and that really brought the smaller girl alive. Mindy usually affected a deep voice to fit her sparkplug-butch image, but when she really got going in bed she would let out these adorable high-pitched squeals that never failed to make Denise simultaneously happy and wet. When Denise brushed her fingers across her clit, it sounded a bit like a kettle boiling. Every time Mindy squealed or moaned, Denise could feel her ass squeeze around her fingers. The human body was a remarkable device.
Denise ventured one finger into Mindy’s hot pussy, then another, and finally a third — she knew her girlfriend liked being stretched out a bit, and had a big black dildo underneath the bed that Denise herself would never go near. Each thrust produced a blur of motion and sound, as Mindy thrust up towards the penetrating fingers and let out one of her high moans. Denise found herself falling into the motions, and soon they were in harmony, along with the headboard that rattled with each thrust.
It would be easy to continue like this until Mindy came, gushing over Denise’s fingers and wailing to the ceiling. It would be even easier to dip her head down and succumb to the intoxicating scent of Mindy’s cunt and just start lapping at the ripe fruit beneath her. But an idea struck Denise, and she couldn’t resist it. It would be cruel, but wasn’t that supposed to be her job?
She pulled all of her fingers out of Mindy, although the orifices tried to cling to them in protest. Mindy looked up in surprise. Denise tried her best to maintain a normal tone of voice, as if they were still talking over rubbery eggs. “Sorry, but I still can’t get over the music thing.”
“Can we talk about it later?” Mindy panted.
“No, I’m afraid you’re going to have to get through a little music appreciation before you can get off,” said Denise. God, she was nervous. Why was she so nervous? Was she worried that she would go beyond the bounds of this tentative play, or that her performance would be so amateurish that it would ruin the experience? Was Mindy comparing her to the fantasies she had harboured for so long? Were those bewildered eyes finding her wanting?
Still, she continued, even as her voice sounded far too weak to her. “I’m gonna cue up a couple songs. Good songs, that you won’t hear on the radio. You’re really sensitive now, so you should be, uh… receptive. After the music ends, you let me know what you think, and maybe I’ll get you off.”
Mindy groaned, but didn’t say anything. Denise rapidly organized a short playlist on her iPod, which had been sitting in her back pocket through all of this. She was hoping Mindy would have one of those docking stations with the speakers attached, but of course it was silly to expect her to own any kind of music-playing equipment. So her music appreciation lesson had to come through tinny, minute iPod speakers. It wasn’t ideal, but it suited her purposes.
The short-haired girl squirmed and squirmed, trying to get herself off by rubbing against the bedsheets. Denise gave her a slap on the thigh. “Nuh uh. Listen to the music.” And she obeyed. Denise realized that she had been given power over her girlfriend, and had of course used it in a capricious and dictatorial fashion. But hey, what was the point of power if you didn’t use it?
Mindy was obviously trying to keep still, but quivered with arousal. Denise really doubted that she could pay attention to the ethereal indie-folk that was quietly playing. And then she looked up at the neon kneesocks binding Mindy to the headboard and it took everything in her power to stop from laughing at the absurdity of the situation.
“These songs should last about ten minutes. You can hold out that long, right Mindy?”
“Y-yes mistress.” Mistress? Where had that come from?
“Good. I have to go do… uh, something more important.”
Denise left the room, her mind reeling. Things had gotten real very fast. And what was this part of her that was quickly emerging, a strange alternate her that delighted in tormenting and humiliating the perfectly innocent Mindy? Was this always a part of her? She felt vaguely guilty.
She sat down on the nearest couch, still listening to the music filtering through the wall. God, it was strange that she still had her clothes on, when Mindy was naked and groaning in there. She tried to think about anything else but the slim butch, sweaty and frustrated, gyrating on the bed just waiting for her, but it was a difficult proposition.
They were onto the second song now, and Denise had started stripping off her clothes. She figured she may as well do this before she completely soaked her panties through. As she peeled off her socks she realized how strange it was to be sitting in Mindy’s living room naked and by herself. It was a little cold.
Eventually she could resist it no more. Denise crept back to Mindy’s bedside. The poor girl was looking downright fevered. Her heightened state of arousal had not diminished one bit, with her soaking pussy making a big stain on the sheets and her rock-hard nipples cutting the cool air.
“Please…” Mindy said quietly.
“Please what?” said Denise.
“Touch me, lick me, fuck me… I don’t care, just do something.”
It was a very tempting proposition. But there was still about two minutes of the playlist to go. Neither of them were listening to the music, of course, but it was the principle of the thing. Or at least Denise thought it was. Maybe Mindy was tired of this game and wanted to just go back to regular fucking. Denise didn’t even know how she would express that without it sounding like she was playing along. The characters they inhabited were rapidly becoming hard to distinguish from their actual selves.
So she didn’t want to give in and start lavishing love on Mindy before the music stopped. But she figured she could at least get ready. And when she saw Mindy squirming, her enflamed pussy just positively beckoning, she could only think that it was time for her girlfriend to get fucked.
There was, however, one problem. Mindy was usually the one who did the fucking in the relationship. Well, there hadn’t really been time to establish a usual yet, but the two times the strap-on had come out it had gone around Mindy’s waist. And why not? She was such such a natural with it, the black dildo jutting out of her thin waist like merely an extension of the rough black waves of her hair. And the way she drove her powerful hips, honed by weekly judo practice since she was seven… well, it drove Denise into delirium.
But she couldn’t afford to be delirious right now. Still trying to appear calm and collected, Denise pulled out Mindy’s “hope chest” — an old drawer filled with colourful sex toys and the odd bit of porno — from under the bed. As the last song began its final course, she tried to figure out her selection.
The strap-on was out of the question — even if she could figure out how to adjust it to her plumper waist, she had never been on the giving end of one before, and now wasn’t the time to find out. But there was still a cornucopia of erotic options before her. In the end she decided to go with a stout red vibrator. Denise flicked the switch at its base, letting the purr of it eclipse the fading melody of the last song.
“Did you like that,” she said, suddenly finding her throat deathly dry.
“Yes,” said Mindy. Her frustration was evident in her heavy, breath-laden voice.
Denise climbed onto the bed behind her girlfriend. “Now remember Mindy, you have to be honest with me. Did you like the music?”
“Well, if I have to be honest…” God, she sounded so mousy and demure and so… un-Mindy-like. “…then I guess I have to say I wasn’t really paying attention.”
“And why not?”
“Well, it’s just that…” Mindy flushed red, bringing a little jolt to Denise’s heart. “I’m just so effing horny that I couldn’t think about anything else.”
Denise decided to think aloud here. “Well, now I don’t know what to do here. I could punish you for being so naughty you can’t even do what I instructed you to do. But you did stay quiet for the whole ten minutes. So maybe you deserve a reward.”
In truth, there really wasn’t much of a choice. Denise’s pussy was yearning for some kind of sexual contact and wouldn’t put up with this bullshit for much longer. So all it took was Mindy muttering, practically squealing. “Oh please, mistress…”
“Well, since you asked nicely…” Denise held the buzzing vibrator to Mindy’s damp pussy lips and barely teased her at all before shoving the toy inside her. Mindy gasped and began moaning, faster and higher than Denise had ever heard before. Clutching the base of the device in her palm, Denise thrust her wrist forward, powerfully fucking her girlfriend with the vibrating toy.
The lithe girl was so keyed up that she didn’t need much to drive her to the edge. Soon she was gasping and panting and one quick, shallow stroke sent her into convulsions. Denis could feel the bliss radiating out from her girlfriend’s body, and let it sink into her pores in an act of delightful sympathy.
But sympathy only takes you so far, and her own cunt was begging for attention. Denise got up and untied Mindy’s wrists as quickly as she could, although her hands seemed suddenly very clumsy. One of the nylons snapped, and she just shrugged it off. It was one obstacle out of the way, at least. The other makeshift rope came dutifully untied, and Denise over to her girlfriend, still in a groggy post-orgasmic state.
The urgent need for release was all that was on her mind. Denise straddled Mindy’s face and was about to start humping it when she felt the slim butch’s tongue start lapping at her folds. And just like that the pressure all melted away. She was simply there, enjoying rippling soft feelings of joy, and there was nothing in the world that could make her unhappy.
But eventually those soft feelings became inflamed. Denise found herself panting as harder and harsher waves of pleasure coursed through her body. Mindy’s tongue was a blur on her clit, her pussy lips, inside her, everywhere. She was eating her out with a dying man’s hunger. Denise realized that all of the preliminaries had brought her close to the edge to, and all there was to do was let out a torrent of obscenities as an inferno of an orgasm burnt its way through her.
Rubber-legged, Denise managed to roll off her girlfriend before she smothered her entirely. Her cunt gave one last half-hearted spasm. Denise sat stunned. Mindy had an amazed grin on her face.
“Was that what you had in mind?” said Denise.
“Not — I mean, it wasn’t exactly like that,” Mindy said, looking up from the pillow. “But I mean, that’s the point. You’re in charge.”
Denise couldn’t help but laugh. “God, the music appreciation thing? What the fuck was I smoking?”
Mindy shrugged. “It was good. You were good. Come down and hold me.”
Denise let herself slide into a prone position, and let Mindy wrap her limbs around her. Or maybe it was Denise doing the wrapping. In any case, they were soon a lovely tangle of human flesh burning against each other. It was a refreshingly familiar intimacy.
“You’re amazing,” said Mindy, kissing Denise on the forehead. Her tone was worshipful.
“Eh. I try.”
The truth of the matter was that s much as Denise loved cuddling, she got bored very easily, and couldn’t stand silence, even the intimate silence of hearing each others’ breathing. “So, what next?”
“I dunno. We could fuck some more, or we could watch a movie or something, or we could go out.”
In the end they did none of the above. They managed to get over to the couch before resuming their death grip on each other, and they spent most of Sunday afternoon flipping between cable news, cartoons, reruns of campy syndicated shows and the last forty-five minutes of The Horse Whisperer. They were nude and sweaty the whole time, but it was remarkably non-sexual, save for one instance of fingerbanging during an old episode of Xena.
Around five-thirty Mindy announced “Well, my brain has turned firmly to slush.”
“Me too. And I’m hungry.”
“I’ve got a frozen pizza that’s just waiting to be devoured.”
“Nah, I feel like something fresh. Let’s go out.”
“I can’t afford to go out for every meal, you know.”
“We’ll go someplace cheap.”
In a way, this delighted Denise. The stupid everyday conversations, the wasted hours and days that made up the bulk of life: these were things she hadn’t been able to imagine doing with Mindy before. With her, time was always heightened. Every moment was a potential catastrophe or a potential delight. But this time, right now? It didn’t matter, and that in some ways made it the best of all.
In the end they grudgingly put their clothes on and went down to a roti place on the corner. Denise was at first startled by the bright green sauce that oozed out of the wrap, but it proved too delicious to ultimately be disgusted by. Mindy, who chatted casually with the owner, devoured hers like a wolf before spitting out the bones triumphantly.
“You are disgusting,” Denise said while dabbing the sauce off of Mindy’s chin with a napkin.
Mindy shrugged. “I don’t do anything gently.”
“What do you want to do now?”
“Let’s just walk. It’s a nice evening.”
It was, one of those warm May nights that promised the bounties of the summer ahead. Mindy threaded her fingers through Denise’s as they stepped out onto the street. Denise looked around anxiously for any disapproving glares, but everyone seemed too absorbed in their own pursuits to notice anyone else’s unorthodox affection. Besides which, this was a nice neighbourhood, whose poverty was of the hip student variety. It was miles away from the pinch-faced churchgoers she had grown up alongside.
They wove through streets on a path that they instinctively understood but couldn’t explain. As they walked they pointed out their own personal geographies: hole-in-the-wall restaurants and bars that one had always avoided but the other swore by, houses where friends past and present lived, bus stops they sat blankly at every day, the stretch of pavement where Denise had once been hit by a car, the alley where a drunk Mindy had once made out with a massive girl whose name she didn’t’ remember. These two worlds were becoming overlaid with each other, becoming something more complete and less distinct.
Denise knew she had a tendency to become obsessive about girls and fantasize about weddings and children and growing old together before the first date. She had tried to stop it, knowing that such fantasies and fixations only made the actual relationship inevitably disappointing. But god help her, she couldn’t help but hope that this one was going to last, that the next year they would be tracing these same steps on another warm May evening. Everything just seemed so easy and comfortable around Mindy.
Their journey ended at a sex shop. It was a nice sex shop, not one of those seedy porno stores decorated with fluorescent red hearts, but it was still embarrassing to come across. “And, uh… this is here too,” said Denise, ever the tour guide.
“Not gonna lie,” said Mindy. “I’ve bought my fair share of dildos from here.”
Denise mutely nodded assent.
“Why are you embarassed? You were pretty brazen this afternoon.”
“That was different. I was, uh… I was doing it for you.”
“Aww, how sweet. Let’s go in and find some more things you can do for me.”
The heavily-pierced girl behind the counter barely looked up from her book as they entered. The store was fairly dead — the only other ones in there were a young straight couple looking at bondage gear and a faintly creepy guy leafing through paperback erotica. Denise still found herself sweating with anxiety. She had bought things from stores like this, but always online. Here the panopoly of sex — artificial genitalia of every size, shape, substance and colour; book and DVD covers depicting every act under the sun; a wall of leather and lace and strange shiny substances; and all of it staring at her, its existence so matter-of-fact.
Mindy pulled her along by the hand. “Come on. I think we should get some real handcuffs. No sense in ruining any more of my leggings.”
Denise mutely nodded, and stared at the floor as Mindy made a show of contemplating the various types of cuffs for sale. The other couple there smiled at them bemusedly. Maybe they were old veterans, thinking back to the purchasing of their first pair of handcuffs.
“Oooh, what do you think about this?” said Mindy, passing Denise a large paddle.
“I think it would be very handy if we ever had to travel by canoe.”
“Or if a certain someone misbehaved.” Mindy wiggled enticingly, no doubt conjuring all kinds of scenarios in her mind. Denise, on the other hand, was only thinking about what she would do if her boss walked in here.
Mindy seemed to take great delight in drawing things out. “You know what, I need a new bottle of lube too. The old one’s getting low. What’s your favourite brand, D?”
“Do you have to talk so loud,” Denise whimpered.
“What’s the matter?” Mindy sauntered over to the checkout desk. “Excuse me ma’am, but are we being too loud?”
Once again, the girl seemed more interested in the exploits of some science-fiction heroine. “Huh? Oh, no, you guys are fine. Let me know if you need help with anything.”
“Actually, I was wondering about one thing. Do you have any adjustable harnesses? My partner here is new to topping and I might need to show her the ropes, so to speak.”
“They should be right over there,” said the cashier, jerking towards a corner full of gender-bending paraphernalia. “Try the Maxima model.”
As Denise’s cheeks burned Mindy made a point of examining and appraising the leather harness. “Do you think this would fit Denise here?”
“Well, it’s supposed to be one-sized fits all,” said the tattooed shopgirl. “We have a changeroom if you want to try it on, though.”
Denise felt like there was something crawling underneath her skin — spiders, maybe. She wondered if Mindy realized how sick she felt. Was this all a game for her? “I-I don’t need to try it.”
“Okay, but we’re not taking this back,” said Mindy with a shrug.
They finally left, but not before racking up quite a bill, between the handcuffs, paddle, the harness, a small length of soft rope, something called a spreader bar, a bottle of lube and a matching pair of dildos — one for each of the lower orifices. All of this was Mindy’s idea. “Jesus,” she said as she slung the bag over her shoulder. “I’ve gotta stop going on these sprees. I can’t afford all this.”
After that it only seemed natural that they head back to Denise’s apartment, where they had started the day. It was a lot more heavily decorated, with the walls covered with photos of friends and family (a snapshot of her and Mindy with their arms around each other at a coffee shop was the most recent addition), artwork of varying quality from all her creative-type friends, and a couple posters filled with quasi-meaningful quotes. The furniture was light and done in bright pastel colours. When Mindy had first descended into the living room she had snottily described it as “pixie girl chic”. Denise had responded by finger-banging her over the arm of her hot pink couch.
Mindy flopped down across that same couch and began thoughtfully perusing her purchases. She pulled out one of the fiery-red dildos and rolled it in her hand. “This one feels nice. Although I wonder if we shouldn’t have gotten something a bit bigger.”
Denise didn’t respond. She was having a hard time putting into words the exasperation she felt, which seemed simultaneously trivial and total.
“What do you think?” Mindy said, gesturing at her girlfriend with the dildo.
Denise slapped the toy out of her hand. “I was uncomfortable in there, you know.”
“Oh, I know. It was cute.”
“It wasn’t cute for me. And you just kept making it worse with all your little remarks — I felt humiliated.”
Mindy still had her lips pursed coquettishly. “Sweetheart, it was just a sex shop. You have to lighten up.”
Denise folded her arms. “I don’t want to lighten up. You acted like my feelings were some kind of joke.” It was, she noted, their first fight, and it was one that only she seemed to be taking seriously.
“Oh?” Mindy said, leaning in close to her girlfriend. “So would you say I’ve been… naughty?”
There it was again, that impish grin. Denise knew that know wasn’t the time, but suddenly all of the anger she had felt towards Mindy… well, it hadn’t gone away, not exactly, but it had merged with a growing current of lust. More accurately, her fury was being channeled downward through subterranean tunnels of lust. And she didn’t really care what her upstairs neighbors heard or thought.
“Take off your clothes.”
Mindy wiggled her hips. “What did you say? Sorry, I couldn’t hear.”
“Take off your fucking clothes.”
Mindy did as she was told, but slowly, all but sashaying her way out of her jeans. “I don’t want a goddamn striptease,” Denise growled. “Just get naked.” Mindy stopped teasing and undressed just as quickly and casually as if she was getting ready for the shower. Her clothes lay in a heap around her ankles, and she stood before Denise, perfectly nude, hands clasped suppliantly in front of her.
“Turn around.” A quick one-eighty, and there was her cute tight bum eager and waiting for Denise’s hands. “Bend over.” And there was her pink pussy glistening with just a bit of dew. Denise really didn’t know where these orders were coming from — she said them, and then thought about them, generally deciding that they felt right. But again, it was like there was some other person acting through her, speaking through her mouth, rubbing her hand idly against her jeans.
Denise ran her fingertips along Mindy’s soft pussy lips, drawing a bodily shiver of anticipation from the petite girl. With a twist of the wrist, she drove two fingers hard into the soft gash, and amused herself sawing them in and out to a whimpering moan. This was how they had got acquainted last night, but right now it didn’t seem like enough.”
“You like that dildo?” Denise said, taking care to add a snarl to her voice. “Then you damn well better use it. Show me how much you like that hunk of plastic, you perverted slut.” The invectives were also unplanned, words bubbling up from some rightfully suppressed part of her, but again they felt strangely right.
Mindy rolled onto the couch, her back pressed to the fabric, her body an endless expanse of quivering pale skin crowned by a dark bushy delta which she was now furiously rubbing. She reached for the dildo, her hand trembling, but on an impulse Denise jerked it away. “Nuh uh. Show me how much you want it.”
The smaller girl again rolled, this time to her knees on her creaky floorboards. Denise had backed up, standing on the opposite side of the room, and was holding the red dildo in front of her crotch. Mindy began crawling towards her on hands and knees, looking desperate and wanton and slutty. She looked like an animal whose mind was entirely consumed with thoughts of her next orgasm, willing to debase herself as much as necessary to get there. That debasement, the brazen and hungry look on her face, brought a quivering thrill to Denise. She realized that her panties must be soaked through by now.
Mindy reached Denise and, without any prompting, took the red dildo pressed up against the crotch of her jeans and wrapped her lips around it. She bobbed her head up against the ersatz cock with utter surrender. And then she gently took it from Denise’s hands, collapsed onto her back, and shoved the dildo into her moist cunt.
Denise marveled at the furor with which Mindy fucked herself. Her wrist was a blur as she jammed the red dildo in and out of her, her other hand rapidly strumming her clit. She was a creature of pure carnal energy. Denise started to say something about Mindy being a slut, but the display in front of her expressed it better than she ever could.
Personally, she was struggling with not joining Mindy in her masturbation. Lust was running wild through Denise’s mind, but she didn’t want to break character or lose control. Even thought Mindy’s breath was now coming only in deep ecstatic grasps. Even though the wet smacking sound of her wrist against the moist gates of her pussy was downright musical. Even though Mindy’s eyes, lustful and challenging and subservient all at once, had been locked on Denise since this whole display had started, and Denise couldn’t help but stare at them when she wasn’t staring at Mindy’s quivering breasts or her pumping legs or the red cock sawing in and out of her engorged pussy lips that seemed to be trying to match its colour.
“Aw, fuck it,” said Denise. In a moment her fly was unsnapped, her right hand was buried in her panties, and she was frantically stroking herself in time with her girlfriend.
Even though Mindy had a head start, they came at more or less the same time. The indescribably erotic display of her girl wantonly fucking herself on the floor had her already on the edge. Mindy came with a harsh shout, curling into a shaking ball on the floor. Denise sank to her knees and drove two fingers into her pussy one last time and felt a wave of warm bliss overtake her. She threw her head forward and let out a long moan, and then everything was still as she focused on the tremors of her orgasm making their way through her body, enveloping her from head to toe.
She came back to her senses with a flush of embarrassment, probably undetectable beneath her rosy post-orgasmic complexion. What was the matter with her? She had intended to confront Mindy, and instead the two of them ended up frigging themselves on the living room floor. Who was in charge here, anyway?
Mindy was lying on her back, propped up on her elbows, with a wild grin like a kid who had just found out Christmas was coming twice this year. She looked sort of self-satisfied, which really annoyed Denise.
“Did you enjoy that, slut?” she said, trying to invest the epithet with as much bile as she could muster.
Mindy nodded, and then breathily said “very much”.
“You disgust me.” Oh god, she was sounding like some a soap opera villain now. “Get up. Bend over the couch again.”
Mindy eagerly scrambled back to lean over the arm of the couch, a spot and position that were becoming permanently associated with sex. But fingerfucking her again wasn’t what Denise had in mind. Instead, she picked up the paddle from the shopping bag at their feet. She felt the smooth wood of the square paddle, shaped a bit like a cricket bat but without half the size or weight. Honestly, it had seemed bigger and scarier in the store
She smacked the paddle against the palm of her hand, feeling a light sting blossom on her skin. Mindy looked back, surprised. Well, now she was committed to it.
“All right, slut,” said Denise. “You’ve had your fun, now for your punishment.”
Mindy ducked her head down, offering up her plump buttocks. This was it. She was actually going to hit her girlfriend — smack her with a wooden paddle. God, this was strange. Twenty-four hours ago she wouldn’t have imagined this, but now to not do it would seem like cowardice. So Denise took a swing. On the first one she took a wide swing with her wrist, but chickened out at the last minute, and it ended up little more than a tap. God, that wasn’t right. She closed her eyes, tried to forget that it was Mindy’s supple and sweaty skin she was hitting, and swung down the paddle again.
After hearing a moan, Denise forced her eyes open. The paddle had made a scarlet impression on Mindy’s asscheeks, a thin red mark across the tundra of her skin. Denise stared at it for a moment. She did that. She was responsible for that mark. And, as she lifted the paddle, she realized that she was going to do it again.
This time, Denise could see it all as it happened: Mindy’s body lurching forward at the impact, redness blossoming across her ass, her face wincing and then letting out a cry halfway between pleasure and pain. It was all over in a moment. Denise needed to see it again.
She was caught in a sadistic reverie, strange emotions lurching through her body, all desperately desiring only to see pain course through her lover’s body. Denise found her arms moving faster and faster, in some dance she was just now realizing she knew the steps to. As she brought the paddle down on Mindy’s buttocks again and again, Denise wished she had something more fluid and responsive — maybe a whip… yes, that would do nicely.
Bruises were beginning to sprout out of the red marks, and joining together to form welts. It was amazing, seeing the transformation she was reeking, and Denise started hitting harder, aiming for those bruises. Mindy let out an anguished cry. “Jesus, D, maybe not quite so hard.”
“I know you like it like this, bitch,” said Denise, picking up the tempo even further. This time, Mindy seemed to wince before the paddle even made contact.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Stop! It’s too much!’ But Denise was lost to her cries. So the slut was in over her head now? It was only what she could expect, what she had coming to her.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
And the next thing Denise knew, she was airborne. It was a strange, wondrous moment, until she landed hard on the floor. Mindy’s naked, athletic body was on top of her, holding onto Denise’s arm and keeping the air that had flown out of her lungs from thinking about returning. The paddle had clattered to the floor several feet away. Denise was confused about what was happen, caught between vertigo and the phantom feeling of having cold water splashed all over her arousal.
“I said stop it,” said Mindy.
It turned out that all those years of judo were good for more than taut muscles. “I, um… I thought it was all, you know, part of the act.”
“Believe it or not, I wasn’t faking being in pain,” Mindy said. “That’s why I told you to fucking stop.”
“But I thought…”
“You thought you could beat the shit out of me and I wouldn’t say anything? And you go on and on about me being the fucking pervert? Put a paddle in your hands and you turn into some kind of fucking maniac.”
Denise was starting to get angry. Why couldn’t they go back to exploring things, having fun? Why was this now so serious? She couldn’t speak, especially not with Mindy’s legs across her sternum. “Um… can you get off me?”
Mindy stood up, brushing herself off and trying to restore some dignity to her nude, red-bottomed form. “Fuck.” She grabbed her clothes and began hurriedly putting them back on.
“Don’t go.” Denise put a hand on Mindy’s shoulder, and she promptly slapped it away.
“Next part of your body that touches me gets broken,” said Mindy.
“Jesus fuck. I went a little too far, okay. No need to threaten me over it.”
Mindy visible winced as she slid her jeans over her bruised ass. “Whatever. Keep the dildos. And with that, she was gone, violently slamming the door behind her.
Denise sank to her knees in the middle of the living room. Her frenzied arousal was gone, replaced by a dazed state in which she could only wonder what had just happened.
Mindy was a morning person, which meant that to much of the world she surely lacked a soul. She was fine with that. She appreciated waking up shortly after dawn, seeing the city when it was still asleep, tugging its covers up to shield it from a pale pink sky. There was a sense of fraternity with the other early-risers, the eccentrics and the squares, the long-distance commuters trying to pull themselves together on the way to the bus station and the sketchy characters having one last smoke outside the convenience store before bidding the night adieu. Even on a day like any other, it was easy to feel a sense of hope and renewal in the young morning.
This morning, however, she woke up to only pain. Her ass burnt and her wrists were sore. Even her cunt was feeling a bit worn out. And when she remembered what had caused all this, it stung even more.
Jesus. Denise. How had she misjudged her so much?
Mindy rolled to her feet and poured herself her customary glass of orange juice and bowl of dry cereal. It tasted like mush this morning, probably because of her fitful sleep. She tried to go through her morning exercises, but her body hurt too much. She was doing her level best to go about her normal routine without thinking about last night, but the soreness was making it damn difficult.
She turned instead to her books. She didn’t have any classes today, but had a long stack of reading to do for Tuesday. Even the wild promises of anthropology couldn’t distract her though. When she shut her eyes, all she could see was the scrunched-up, maniacal look on Denise’s face as she had swung that paddle over and over.
It vindicated every worry she had about sharing this part of her with someone else. In judo she had learned never to give anyone else any openings, never to put yourself in a position where they could hurt you. But she had tied herself up for someone she barely knew. She had handed Denise the weapons to hurt her with.
Maybe it had been her fault after all. She had been the one who egged Denise on. Maybe if she hadn’t brought up the conversation about fantasies that night (how had it only been two nights ago?) they would still be contentedly snuggling. If it had been someone else saying these things to her, Mindy would have barked at them not to blame the victim. But when it was herself she instead felt a more pressing urge to accept responsibility.
Shit. She needed to forget about all this. It was tying her up in knots.
When half an hour of channel surfing and an hour of staring at the page of a textbook failed to do anything, and none of her wall of movies seemed worth the effort, Mindy decided to jog for a bit. Maybe she would go into the gym and hit some pads. Forget the mental beneath the physical. As though that wasn’t how she had gotten into trouble in the first place.
Mindy was very bad at forgetting things.
Still, the worries of last night began to subside beneath the pounding rhythm of her sneakers on cement. She tried to keep herself to a constant rhythm, but eventually she lost control and was rushing through the streets at breakneck speed. People stopped and stared as they moved out of her way, probably thinking that she was trying to catch a bus and not just running around like an idiot. Mindy ignored them, ignored everything, let all of the bullshit and drama and petty interpersonal theatre shrink beneath the raw truth of her body.
But eventually even the raw truth of her body started to be kind of unpleasant. And then she just flat out hit a wall, stumbling in mid-stride, her muscles becoming lumps of heavy clay. Mindy stumbled and almost fell. Well, she managed to avoid tripping over her own feet on the first try, but in doing so she stumbled to the side, ended up rotating until she lost her balance and fell onto her back on some unfortunate soul’s neatly trimmed lawn. Mindy could only laugh with what little strength remained in her. Once again, this was pain, but kind of a good kind — the exhaustion of a fulfilled body.
And then there was Denise, her avenging angel, standing over her and offering a hand down from the heavens. Mindy had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn’t imagining things.
“Need a hand?” said Denise softly.
“Fuck off.” Mindy planted her palm in the grass and rolled to her feet, despite the protestations of her sore arms and legs.
“I probably deserve that,” said Denise. “Look, I want apologize for what happened last night… I mean, things got out of hand, and I just lost control. I was trying to work up the nerve to call you, and then I saw you running by my place and, well…”
Mindy didn’t want to deal with this right now. Her head was spinning, and her body hurt, both from last night and the run. And here was Denise before her, seemingly like some impossible figure conjured out of her anxiety. Maybe she was hallucinating.
“You okay?” said Denise, after Mindy had stared at her in silent confusion for a while.
Was she okay? What did “okay” even mean? The emotions that ran hot and cold through her, the desire to be controlled that seemed to clash with every other part of her — had she ever been okay?
Denise frowned and bit her lip. She did look really concerned. “Look, you don’t have to say anything… I mean, I don’t need to kiss and make up. I would love it, but I don’t need it. I just want to think I didn’t hurt you too bad.”
“You feeling guilty?” Mindy finally said.
“Yeah. I don’t like it.”
“Tough.” Mindy turned on her heel and began to walk away. She let her anger towards Denise fill her. The anger felt good, a hot righteousness soothing her muscles and warming her mind. It had been easy all along. She just needed to understand not to trust people like Denise — people who looked kind and innocent, but had hidden capacities for pettiness and cruelties beneath them. She should have known, as soon as she had hounded Mindy for her eccentricities, as soon as she had made a big deal about some tomfoolery at the sex shop. The easiness of them being together had been a lie.
All she had to do was cut the bad parts out of her life, and Denise was one of those bad parts. All she had to do was banish those soft pink lips from her memory, never again run her hands down the warm slopes of Denise’s breasts or settle into that sacred space between her thighs, never consider the possibilities raised by their conversations or laugh at that juvenile way she blushed or stare in admiration at the bizarre grace of her chestnut-brown hair as it flowed casually behind her.
Mindy stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Denise was still standing there forlorn, like a child waiting after school for a parent they were starting to suspect just wasn’t coming.
“Do you want to get a coffee?” Mindy found herself saying.
Denise smiled cautiously. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
There were some things you couldn’t say in a coffee shop. That was, in truth, part of their appeal. It was hard to work the difficult truths out of yourself or expose your inner weaknesses when surrounded by chattering hipsters and stern-faced bohemians pounding away on their laptops, steaming mugs of unpronounceable drinks marking each table like a flag. Instead, the underlying triviality of the place assured a break from any concerns that would take up more thought than the ten minutes it took to get your way through a latte.
Denise and Mindy talked about the weather. They talked about their favourite TV shows, about the latest silly political scandals, about childhood pets and the funny things they had once done. In a way it was easy, but it also felt a bit like the opening rounds of a boxing match, the two combatants feeling each other out, testing the distance between them. Denise seemed to nod along to everything Mindy had to say. Maybe it was a sign of contrition. Or maybe Mindy was just imagining it.
Denise flicked a finger against her empty cup. The last traces of her coffee had vanished a while ago. “I think we’re officially loitering.”
Mindy shrugged. “It’s not busy. They probably won’t mind.”
“Still, we should go somewhere else. I don’t want to say my place, but…”
“The park. Neutral ground.” Mindy found it easier to imagine having a climactic confrontation in the small windswept park that stood a few blocks away. It would be like the final scene from a movie, the two tempestuous lovers shouting their emotions at each other in an open field.
“Why don’t we go to that breakfast spot again?”
“I already ate.”
Denise frowned. Mindy realized that over the past twenty-four hours she had seen almost a full range of emotions from her: cheerful confidence, sullen embarrassment, that blind-eyed rage she couldn’t stop thinking about, and now a kind of meek, pleading supplication. But they all had some essentially strange and intriguing commonality between them — that particular style of emotion that made Denise, well, Denise. It was that ineffable thing that Mindy still had a grudging attraction towards.
They left the coffee shop without an agreed-upon destination. Mindy assumed they were still heading towards the park for what in her mind had attained the aura and proportions of an old west shoot-out, but they hadn’t gone more than a block in that direction before the talk between them grew serious.
Denise’s hands were balled into fists and hung low in front of her, as though she was presenting them to be cuffed. “I’d just like to say, first and foremost, that I’m sorry. Last night was… I think what happened was that I just got so into what we were doing — I mean, you know, into the character that I was, the whole cruel dominant thing — that I kind of lost control. I let that part of me that wanted to hurt you take over. And I feel awful about that.”
It struck Mindy as a kind of shitty apology. Why was she trying to put blame on some kind of character, on the act they had been doing? “Wait, there was a part of you that wanted to hurt me?”
“I guess so. I mean, it was an evil part of me, I guess. After the sex shop thing I just felt like I needed to strike back at you somehow, to make you feel as humiliated as I felt. This is all subconscious, of course, and this is just my best guess. What I’m trying to say is, I was angry, and I found a very physical outlet for that anger.”
More dime-store psychobabble. Mindy was beginning to get angry herself. “So this is all my fault? You just had to beat on me because I goofed around with you a bit?”
Denise’s eyes swept around the thinly-populated street. “No, it’s — look, I’m not used to this. There’s a part of me that relishes everything that we did. That feeling of having power over people, and of causing someone else pain. Maybe I never would have realized this if you hadn’t brought it up. But now I know that’s a part of me, and it makes me scared of myself.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” said Mindy.
“Are you saying that you’re scared of yourself, or scared of me?”
“I guess both.”
They stopped at a traffic light. Denise was now staring at the sidewalk, or maybe just her balled hands. “I guess part of it was that when you said ‘stop’, I didn’t realize that it wasn’t a part of all that, that you weren’t just playing out your role.”
Mindy felt hot fury rise to her cheeks. She turned on her heel and stared Denise in the eye. “So what you’re saying is that this was all just one big misunderstanding? Whoops, sound the laugh track?”
Denise visibly shrank. “No, I just mean…”
“You know, this isn’t just some kind of grade-school play. Yeah, I like getting tied up, and I like getting hit, and I like getting treated like dirt. That’s not just some facade I put on. That’s me. And when I tell you to stop, that’s also me.”
“I didn’t know.”
Denise looked so miserable, standing there inspecting the cracks in the cement, and in an instant all of Mindy’s rage left her. This also made her feel a bit angry — who was Denise to deny her of her righteous anger, to make it all go away with a puppy-dog face? But that too was fleeting, and Mindy felt an inexorable urge to comfort the other girl.
The traffic light they were stopped at had long since changed to green and back to red again. Denise was still, the only motion of her body being the flapping of her hair in the breeze.
“This is hard,” Mindy said. It was a dumb statement, one that didn’t come close to expressing the tangle of emotions throbbing within her, but they were the only words that came to mind. She had never been good at words.
“Yeah,” said Denise. “We should have — I dunno. We should have prepared, talked things out… we just jumped into it. That made it really sexy, but I guess it couldn’t last.”
Sympathy was a strange thing. It rarely hit Mindy — she had to make a concerted effort to consider other people’s perspective, and never really felt their pain as her own. She could pass by homeless people on the street without the least tremors of conscience. But sometimes it did come to her now, and she suddenly saw all of Denise’s emotions — fear, uncertainty, a dangerous crush that looked like it just might scab over and inflate into love — and realized her position and it was as though she was suddenly swamped with all the mixed-up feelings of two different people, two people who weren’t quite getting along with each other no matter how much each one wanted to. And Mindy realized that Denise really did care for her, and had hurt her out of ignorance and innocence — just as Mindy had hurt her in turn. And they were just two clumsy humans who couldn’t stop banging into each other.
“We didn’t know what we were doing,” said Mindy.
“We still don’t. I mean, maybe I never will,” said Denise.
“If you’re still willing,” said Mindy (this next part was hard, and she had to squeeze the words through a throat that seemed to wisely want to keep them inside), “we could try to figure it out together.”
Denise turned to her, and her smile outshone the sun. “I would like that.”
They were back at Mindy’s place, just talking. The first thing they had decided was that they hadn’t talked enough about it last time, or to be more specific they hadn’t talked concretely enough. Now they sat on the carpet, facing each other cross-legged, and everything seemed to be spilling out and pooling in the diamond made by their barely-touching knees.
“Can I pull your hair?” Denise asked.
“You can try, but there’s not much there to pull.” Mindy ran a hand over the prickly edges of her short hairdo. “Actually, you might hurt my neck, so I’m gonna nix that.”
“Got it. Any where you don’t want me to, uh, hit you?”
“The pussy, I guess? There’s good pain and bad pain, and I think a crotch shot is the latter.”
“I kind of feel like doing a teacher fantasy.”
“Would you be the teacher or would I?”
“Well, it’d be hard to come up with a situation where the student is the domme… although I guess we could get creative…” Denise tapped her chin in thought.
“Are you into the leather stuff? All that gear we saw yesterday? I’m not really — although don’t get me wrong, it would look good on you.”
Denise took a moment to ponder this. “Hmm, I think I’d rather be naked. But I’ll think about it.”
They talked quickly, changing topic at the drop of the hat, but the conversation always stayed on sex. In this they were a bit like sugar-addled teenage boys. Both seemed desperate to get out everything they could, as if this moment of intimacy and suspension and judgment was a window that would quickly close. Possibility crackled between the two women.
The big ones came last. “I think we should use some kind of safeword,” said Mindy. This had been a part of what she had read on the Internet. (There had been many nights where she inadvertently stayed up until 3 AM lurking BDSM forums and reading erotic fiction, terrified and intrigued at the same time. She hadn’t paid too much attention to safety issues back then, but it had come up.) “Just to avoid situations like last night. Something that means ‘no, really, stop’.”
Denise nodded. “That sounds good. How about, um… Uncle Bill.”
Denise smiled. “One thought about my uncle and I’m not going to want anything to do with sex for a while. Great guy, just an unfortunate face… and body…”
Mindy privately wasn’t sure if their safeword should be based off Denise’s family in-jokes, but she was willing to give and take. “All right. Uncle Bill it is then. If I can’t speak then, I’ll tap you three times and that means stop. And ‘I forgot the safeword’ also counts as a safeword, okay?”
Denise laughed. “Deal. As long as you don’t judo throw me again. Seriously, I think I twisted my shoulder.” She reached around to pat the joint and winced.
“You want me to look at that?” said Mindy, intending a little bit of provocation. “Maybe massage it back into place?”
“That wouldn’t be so bad. Anything else we should talk about before we, well, try putting it into practice?”
Mindy breathed deep. She didn’t want to share this, but she knew she needed to. It had sat like a hot piece of lead in her gut for a while. “Last time when I flipped on you, it was — well, it wasn’t all because of the spanking, although that did get too hard. It was partly — mostly, maybe — because you called me a bitch.”
Denise looked confused. “I thought you liked being called names.”
“I do, mostly, but…” There was no choice, but it all had to come out. “My dad used to call my mom that all the time. Well, not just my mom — any woman who disagreed with him or got him mad or just happened to be in his warpath. It wasn’t just bitch, of course. He knew all of them. Cunt, whore, slut… but there was something about the way he said ‘bitch’ that just stood out to me. I can still hear it perfectly, although I haven’t seen him in — god, it’s going on twelve years now. He got so much hate into that one word. And he said it so often it was like he thought that was Mom’s name.”
“Jesus,” said Denise. “I-I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“How could you? I don’t like to talk about it. There are days when I even manage to forget about him. And then there are times when I wonder if everything I am — why I like girls, why I like getting hit and degraded, why I’m so desperate to prove I’m the smartest person in my class and not some dumb whore — is because of him. I mean, I don’t know about any of that. But when I heard you say that word — I’m not saying you’re like him, of course — but my mind just instantly flashed to Dad knocking Mom around the room while I hid in my bedroom closet.”
“Jesus,” Denise repeated. It seemed like that was all she could say for a little while. In the silence it felt as though it had gotten ten degrees colder in the room. Mindy wondered if she shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe it was too much intimate detail.
Denise closed her eyes and began speaking again. “Listen, Mindy… I’m not a psychoanalyst. I don’t know what made you who you are — whether it was your past, or biology, or a little of each. I don’t know that about myself. But I don’t think it matters. Because what you are now is a strong, beautiful, brilliant woman. And that asshole doesn’t define you. You’re more than that.”
A strange warmth spread through Mindy, and all her resentment and reserve melted like butter in a hot frying pan. Suddenly nothing was more important than taking Denise in her arms. “I… thank you. I know that, really. But sometimes I need to hear it from someone else.”
Denise had crossed the distance between them in a flash and had docked her knees between Mindy’s and thrown her arms around the butch girl’s neck. Mindy grabbed her by the small of her back and pressed close to her. “I won’t call you that again,” Denise said into her girlfriend’s ear. “I never want to hurt you again.”
“Well,” Mindy said. “A little hurting wouldn’t be too bad. Physically speaking, of course.”
Denise had a wicked grin on her face. “I think I know what you mean.”
Mindy didn’t realize how cold it was in here until she was handcuffed naked to the radiator. True, it was giving off a fair amount of heat, but it was an old house and the chill crept in and swirled around her already-hard nipples. Her clothes sat in a tempting pile a few feet away, but she couldn’t quite reach them, even when she tried to use her legs and hook them around her toes (leaving her moist pussy fully exposed to the cold air). She was waiting for Denise to come back in, but it seemed as though it would take forever. The anticipation was killing her. She couldn’t stop thinking of Denise’s hands over her body, that stern tone in her voice she had started to adopt, the raw joy of pleasuring her… god, she was horny.
The scenario seemed simultaneously a bit over-elaborate and not thought through enough. She was supposed to be some kind of sex slave, an idea that turned her on greatly, although she wasn’t sure what a sex slave actually did when not, you know, having sex. Denise didn’t seem to know either. The answer seemed to be “sit handcuffed to a radiator waiting”.
Finally, Mindy heard a key in the door, and her heart (and cunt) leapt. Denise walked in, dressed in her coat and boots, looking for all the world like she was casually returning from a long day at the office. “Honey, I’m home.”
“Thank god,” Mindy muttered.
Denise wandered into the living room, shrugging off her coat as she did so. She strode over to Mindy and grabbed her by the chin, pressing her cheeks together. “What did you say?”
Mindy managed to speak through the pinch. “I said… welcome home, master.”
“That’s what I thought. You would not believe the stupid shit I had to put up with today.” Denise walked over to the radiator and unshackled Mindy. Mindy desperately wanted to touch herself, but she knew enough to not try it. Denise stepped out of her boots. “I want you to clean these.”
That one took Mindy a bit by surprise. No matter how much she protested, Denise really did have the mind for these things. “Of course, master. May I have a cloth to shine them with?”
“You’ve got a perfectly good tongue.”
Of course. Mindy picked up one of the boots — it was really immaculately dry and clean. She assumed Denise had just spent the last ten minutes pacing on the porch. An experimental lick tasted nothing but shoe leather, like a very overcooked steak.
It was degrading, she knew, and humiliating in the extreme. It would mark her as utterly abject, a piece of trash less respected than a dog. But her master was looking at her expectantly. No — with even a bit of excitement in her eyes. Her master wanted her to debase herself, to show that she was less than the boots she walked on. And that made Mindy’s thighs quiver with excitement. And so she cleaned the boots.
She licked up and down the top of each boot before she took the toes in her mouth,as though she was sucking on them. Her tongue ran along the treads, occasionally picking up a speck of dirt or a pebble, at which point she would have to lean down and spit it out on the floor. She was so wet. Denise was standing there, fixated on her, looking faintly amazed. Mindy looked back up at her with a mixture of defiance and abandon.
“Fuck the boots,” said Denise. “I want you to lick me. That’s what a good sex slave’s for, right?”
“Yes, master.” Mindy dropped the boots and inched forward on her knees towards Denise’s waiting crotch.
But her master shifted away at the last moment. “Not here on the living room floor. What do you think we are, animals? Come, follow me to the bedroom.”
Mindy rose to follow Denise, but the other girl gave her a firm slap as she tried to get up. The slap was surprisingly painful, but at the same time it sent a sweet stinging sensation across her cheek. “What are you doing, trying to walk? You crawl, like the animal you are.”
This was a new wrinkle. Mindy wondered whether Denise had planned these new perversions while pacing outside, or if this was always some deeply-held fantasy. Whatever it was, it made Mindy feel cheap, degraded, used, and extremely aroused. She followed the bouncing arch of Denise’s feet down the short hall that lead to her bathroom, loping along the carpet on all fours. She felt a drop of her juices fall from her pussy onto the carpet.
Even once in the bedroom, Denise took her sweet time. She shrugged herself out of the blouse she was wearing, folding it neatly and setting on the dresser before doing the same to her shirt. Everything needed to be put in its proper place. Once she was down to her bra and panties Denise tugged at the straps but first decided to slowly, tortuorusly remove her watch, her class ring, her earrings, every single bit of jewelry or personal effect on her body. Mindy waited, kneeling, growing moister. She knew that she had to be patient. She would be rewarded, in time.
Finally, Denise seemed to have finished her endless preparations. She lounged luxuriously across her bed, sinking into the mattress. Between the firm brown nipples poking out of her fleshy breasts and the inviting bush nestled between her legs she looked a bit like an old porno model. “All right, I suppose we can start now. Why don’t you start at the toes and work your way up? If you’re lucky, slave, I might even let you suck on my tits later.”
Mindy felt a rush of euphoria at the permission to even touch her mistress. Already in her thoughts Denise was hallowed, divine, a separate species from herself, a lowly creature stuffed with sinful desire. Mindy lovingly pressed her lips to each of Denise’s toes, kissing the soft pink nail, and then began to take a few in her mouth and softly suck on them. Denise sighed with contentment.
Mindy let her tongue wash over the crown of her mistress’s feet, then moved up to suck and caress Denise’s heels, then her calves, and then her knees, and oh god she was getting so close. She could smell Denise’s distinct musk, and she wanted to just dive right in, but she knew somehow that things had to be done in the proper order or else she would be punished. But it was so close, and it would be so easy to just give in…
Shaking her head lose of the notion, she took particular care to slowly love Denise’s thighs with her lips, nuzzling her cheek against their soft fuzz. Her wet pussy was so, so close, but Mindy just kept inching towards it. She was working her way up. That was what her master had asked her, and so it was what she would do.
Denise abruptly grabbed her by the hair. “Stop fucking around and just eat me.”
And then Mindy’s lips were on that soft ripeness and it was worth every moment of the wait. She ran her tongue up and down Denise’s slit wildly, lapping up all of her feminine juices, wrapped her lips around her master’s fat clit and sucked for all she was worth, and rubbed her face in the messy wetness of that fleshy delta.
A light smack on the back of the head. “Don’t get sloppy down there, slave.”
And so she changed gears, applying every bit of cunnulingual expertise she had picked up over years of fucking women and every gram of knowledge of the female body acquired through extensive exploration of her own. Her touch was gentle but not too gentle, the wet tip of her tongue striking all of Denise’s erogenous zones strategically until the other woman had lost all control.
“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come,” Denise grunted. And then she did, letting out a long cry as her pussy tremored against Mindy’s face.
As she watched her master’s orgasm, Mindy felt a rush of bodily joy herself. It felt good to make her mistress happy. Whenever she heard one of her mistress’s orders, her head got light and her knees weak, like she was about to faint. All she wanted to do was stay in this state of simplicity and obediance.
Denise sat up and beckoned Mindy to her. The two embraced, and Mindy felt her partner’s warmth flood into her For a moment Mindy thought the scene was over, but then she heard Denise’s soft voice in her ear. “Very good, slave. You know how to munch rug like a pro. You must be a very experienced slut.”
“Now, I think you deserve a reward. But you’re going to have to hold still to get it.”
Mindy tensed, not knowing exactly what was coming (other than her, of course). Denise continued on. “I want you to get up and lean over the bed, with your hands on the headboard. Bend over as far as you can while still being comfortable. You’re going to have to stand there a while.”
It was almost automatic for her now, shifting into a posture of supplication without thinking of the consequences, because she didn’t need to think about consequences — she had her master to do it for her. Denise had produced the handcuffs from somewhere and cuffed her to the headboard once again. The steel was tight around her right wrist, and the cold metal gave her a strange erotic thrill.
She felt Denise’s hands tugging at her ankles. “Spread them.” So Mindy did, using all the flexibility built up from her athletic training, until her legs were spread a little too far and Denise had to tug her feet back in with a firm hand. And then she felt that cold metal clink around her ankles again, and Mindy couldn’t spread or contract her legs any more. Of course — the spreader bar. She knew she wouldn’t regret that purchase.
Mindy realized that, save for a left arm that could uselessly flail into space, she was completely helpless. A chill went down her spine, and not an entirely pleasant one. The subdued rational part of her brain wondered what would happen if Denise went too far, like she had last night, or if something else terrible happened. There was a not in her stomach as well as in her groin.
Trust. That was the essence of it. She just had to trust Denise.
“Now then,” her master said in an arch, almost campy tone. “I said I wanted to reward you, and I know just the gift for a little pain-slut like you.” She could hear Denise lifting something, but she couldn’t quite see what it was, and her head was too clouded to think. But as soon as she felt it come down across her back, Mindy knew it like an old friend.
It was the paddle from last night. She winced at the memory as well as the light sting on her back. But this was different from last night. Denise’s wrist was gentle, only offering a light smack, and instead of hitting the same place she paddled her slave-girl all over. Mindy felt the hard wood slap her asscheeks, her thighs, her shoulders and even sneak around to her stomach.
“Is that enough pain for you, pervert?”
“A-a little harder,” Mindy had to admit. It was just too tantalizing. The solid smack of the paddle seemed to hover near her, just inches away, but always out of reach behind those soft shots.
“Well, if you insist.” And then a hard smack across her asscheeks that made Mindy absolutely glow.
The butch girl squirmed against her bombs as her dom struck her across her body again, making her feel like a well-tenderized piece of meat. She wasn’t sure how long she could stay on her feet, with her legs little more than a quivering mass of loose but contented muscles. Dimly Mindy became aware that she was letting out little squeaks of pain/pleasure, the kind of soft cooing noises that had always embarrassed her but were inescapable in the bedroom.
Denise struck her across the tits, and she yelled out hard. Mindy felt her cunt quiver — maybe that had been a little one, right there. With a short flick of her wrist Denise batted one of her tits around with the paddle, smacking it back and forth. It hurt like hell, but it also sent a shockwave of bliss through Mindy, another miniature orgasm. And in the distant realm of sound, she could hear herself screaming.
Her master was saying something, and Mindy struggled to hear it. “Are you going to obey me? Are you going to always be my little fuck-toy, to treat however I want? Are you going to be there for me to take out all my anger on, to take all of the abuse? Can I count on you?”
“Yes, master!” Mindy yelled, and in some way she meant it.
“Good. Now you get a good fuck-toy’s treat.” And Denise spun the paddle around in her hand and shoved the handle roughly into Mindy’s cunt, overflowing with girl-juices. It was a rough and violent fucking, and Mindy felt it like a brushfire overtaking her body. And then Denise lowered herself and kissed her clit just once, and then Mindy was screaming and shaking and thrashing against her metal bonds as the biggest orgasm of her life overtook her.
She couldn’t think coherently for at least a couple of minutes. Her reddened and bruised body could barely stand, and every inch of her skin was numb. She began to wonder if she had short-circuited her system, if the massive shock of pleasure had burnt the ends out. Mindy then became aware that she was standing in a sticky puddle.
“Jesus,” Denise said in a soft, reverential tone. “You fucking squirted.”
“No. I never…” And then she looked over at her girlfriend, her hair matted down and her face drenched in sticky girl-juice, and then down at the translucent puddle she was standing in. “Huh. I guess I did.”
Denise giggled. “Come on. I’ll get you out of that rig.”
Mindy’s legs were stiff and unresponsive, but Denise helped her out of the spreader bar and handcuffs and to the bed. They cleaned each other with their tongues, hands, and maybe a towel or two. And they kissed and cuddled and softly slithered against each other until they both reached a more subdued orgasm.
“Was that…” Denise seemed hesitant to ask the question. “Was that okay?”
“Okay?” Mindy said. “That was fucking great.”
Denise glowed, and Mindy knew that the trouble between them had healed or at least subsided. Maybe that wasn’t a big deal, just a typical spat between a young couple, but it gave her confidence that they would be able to solve other trouble in the future. And she was looking forward to that future, because even at her angriest Mindy had never been able to forget Denise, every word she said and every movement she made. She seemed to stand out so much clearer than everyone else in the world. There was a magical vibrancy to her. The only other times she had felt like this–
Well shit. She was falling in love.