Caveat Lector
I'm doing something I once said I'd never do, which is post an unfinished fic. Not only that, but it's an unfinished fic that in all likelihood will never be finished.
The genesis of this story began months ago, when
leupagus was running a Mary Sue prompt-a-thon. I have, among my stable of gay boys and OCs, a character called Kate, who by some standards might be considered a Mary Sue and by other standards might be considered a sociopathic serial killer. Such an OFC fit very well within the guidelines of the prompt-a-thon, so I started work on an NCIS fic to showcase her.
I ended up with two related chapters, one very porny, one very casefic-y. Neither were finished, and at this point I think it's very likely that they never will be. With my luck I'll end up with a third chapter that won't finish either.
Regardless, I'm actually pretty pleased with how the unfinished chapters turned out, and Kate's been restless in my head lately, so I made the decision to post them here. I will say that there are no cliffhangers, that the porn doesn't leave anyone unsatisfied and that the casefic (such as it is) has a conclusion. However, it's still unfinished, and please, don't ask me to finish it.
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Abby/OFC (Kate)
Rating: NC-17 for chapter 1, PG-13 for chapter 2
Warnings: Kinky consensual sex?
Notes: See above. As I said in the title of this post, let the reader beware.
Abby goes to the club to relax, unwind, have a Red Bull or two and dance. Maybe watch a scene, if there’s one happening, maybe flirt a little if anyone looks particularly interesting. She’s done up for the night in Goth Lolita-chic, black plaid miniskirt and knee high boots, tight white blouse unbuttoned just so to reveal the black lace bra underneath. Pretty casual, for her, but she’s not really looking for a scene, or a sex partner.
She’s leaning against the bar, sipping a fruit juice blend, when the energy in the room shifts toward the door and Abby looks over automatically. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she says, because the woman walking in the door looks like she owns the club and Abby sees at least three subs hit their knees as she passes them by. Leather pants, snug in all the right places, impressive black boots, black t-shirt that Abby’s pretty sure is silk, black motorcycle gloves on her hands. It’s all clearly well-worn in and fits her like a fucking glove; whoever she is, this isn’t some wanna-be or poser.
She’s got high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes-not Asian, exactly, but maybe Eastern European? Abby’s not sure. Dark red hair , too far away to judge eye color, but she’s walking over to the bar and Abby tries not to drool or squirm too obviously. Brown eyes, she notices as the woman gets closer. Almost hazel.
“What’s your pleasure, Lady?” Ewan asks from behind the bar as the woman slides onto a stool next to Abby.
“Hmm.” The woman smiles lazily and glances around the room, seemingly surveying it and dismissing it all at once, before turning to Abby. She gives Abby a closer look, and Abby finds herself blushing for absolutely no reason. This is ridiculous. It’s not like this unknown person is any more of a Domme than-than Gibbs, and she can stand up to Gibbs anytime.
Okay, maybe in the middle of a kink club she wouldn’t be standing up to Gibbs either, but that’s…
“Do you have a name, lovely?”the woman asks. Abby thinks she’s got a Russian accent; definitely Eastern European but she’d need a linguist to get more specific. There’s a trace of something else, too, but she can’t pin that down.
“Abby, Mistress,” she says, glancing up quickly before looking down at leather pants and tightly laced boots. “May I ask yours?”
“So polite,” the woman says. “I like this. I am Kate.”
Okay. Whoa. Hadn’t expected that. Abby flinches involuntarily at the memory of another Kate, and when she looks up, this new Kate is studying her. “I remind you of someone?” she asks.
“Not you,” Abby says. “I had a-a friend named Kate once.” Please don’t ask what happened to her, she thinks.
“Call me Katya, then,” Kate says. “Or Mistress will serve. Are you under someone’s collar for the night?”
“No, Mistress,” Abby murmurs, grateful Kate-Katya-didn’t ask. “I’m a free agent.”
“Good,” Kate murmurs. “Very good. Safeword?”
“Red, Mistress,” Abby says, licking dry lips.
Kate nods, stripping off the glove on her left hand. She’s got a gold wristband on, with a black slash. The black means she’s a visiting member from another club. The gold means she’s been personally vouched for by Jill, Ewan, or Ruben, the three owners and managers. “Does this satisfy you?” she asks.
Abby glances up at Ewan. “You know her?” she asks, regaining a little steadiness in her voice.
Ewan nods. “She’s good,” he says in his usual calm way. “You’ll be safe with her.”
“I don’t do permanent marks, I don’t do bloodplay without a test, and I don’t do breathplay on a first scene,” Abby tells Kate. “Bathroom functions are completely out and I don’t like being humiliated.”
“Believe me, agapi mou, humiliating you is the last thing on my mind,” Kate says softly, getting off her stool. She cups the back of Abby’s skull in her hand and kisses her, claiming her mouth and making Abby whimper. “Come with me,” she says when she pulls back, slipping on her glove. “I prefer my own room.”
Abby hesitates on that one. She’s safe with Kate on club property, but Kate could take her anywhere, and-“I want a safe call,” she says.
“Smart and beautiful,” Kate comments. “Will Ewan suit?”
Abby nods. “In one hour, and again at eight in the morning.”
Ewan writes it down and Abby scrawls her signature. The blue paper gets tacked to the board and Abby breathes out, still a little uncertain this is actually happening.
“Come, sweet girl,” Kate says a little more sharply when Abby doesn’t move, and she almost stumbles in her hurry.
Kate’s motorcycle gloves have a purpose, it seems; she has a motorcycle outside. A sleek, gorgeous one with a spare helmet which Abby pulls on before sliding onto the bike behind Kate and wrapping her arms around Kate’s waist.
She closes her eyes as they drive, not really keeping track of turns and stops, her senses full of the scent of motorcycle and gasoline and leather and Kate, the wind rushing past her, the vibration of the bike enough to soak her panties and have her two steps from coming when Kate parks outside a brownstone. “Did you enjoy the ride, sweet girl?” Kate asks, securing the helmets and turning to Abby.
“Yes, Mistress,” Abby murmurs. “Very much.”
Kate laughs, holding a hand out for Abby. “Come along, my girl,” she says. “You are wearing far too many clothes.”
They’re on the third floor of the brownstone, or that’s where Kate takes her. Abby looks around but doesn’t take much of it in, noting art that looks real and flowers that look fresh.
“We will be in here,” Kate says, leading her down the hall and into a large bedroom. Four poster king size bed is mostly what Abby sees; the rest of it kind of blurs. She breathes out slowly, trying to regain control.
“You like the bike,” Kate says lazily, walking around Abby in a circle and ending up behind her. “Just how much, sweet girl?” She slips a hand under Abby’s skirt and into her panties, stroking her and making Abby tremble and whimper. “So wet,” Kate says, circling Abby’s clit with a gentle finger. “So open for me to play with. I make you a promise, milaya moya-by the time I am done with you, you will beg me to stop.”
“Am I allowed to come, Mistress?” Abby whispers. “Or only when you say?”
Kate laughs and brushes a kiss over the tender spot just behind Abby’s ear. “Oh, lovely, you may come as often as you can. I plan to find out just how much you can take.”
Abby swallows a moan and licks dry lips. She’s so close right now, just from Kate’s finger circling her clit and her voice at Abby’s ear-and then it all gets taken away, Kate slides her hand out of Abby’s panties and steps back from her and Abby almost whines in protest. “Mistress?” she asks instead, hearing the uncertain waver in her voice and hating it.
“It has been one hour, milaya moya,” Kate states. “Time for your safe call.”
Right. Safe call. Ewan. Kate not being some weird deviant serial killer. Abby groans at the timing and looks for a phone, her own having been left at home when she went out for the evening. Kate hands her a black handset and she dials the club from memory, pacing a bit because she’s too keyed up to stand still, so wet she feels her thighs sticking together as she walks.
“Steel Rose, this is Ewan, how may we serve?”
“Ewan, it’s Abby,” she says, closing her eyes in relief. “I’m fine, we’re fine, we’re at some brownstone, I don’t know exactly where-“
Kate gives her the address, which Abby relays over the phone. “So somewhere in Georgetown, then,” she says. “It’s what, eleven now? I’ll call you again at eight?”
“Sounds good,” Ewan says. “If the night ends earlier, call me then just so I know. By eight you may get Jill instead of me, is that all right?”
“Yeah, that’s fine, it’s all fine, I really want to go back to what was promising to be amazing sex now, so, uh, can we chit-chat later?” Abby asks sheepishly.
Ewan laughs. “Bye, Abs.”
She hits disconnect and hands the phone back to Kate, who smiles and sets it back in its cradle. “Undress for me, sweet girl,” she says, leaning against one of the bed footposts. “You may put your clothes in the top drawer of the chest.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Abby says, already feeling the spiral down into subspace. She undresses carefully but quickly, taking the time to fold her clothes and shake out her hair, and kneels in front of Kate when she’s done, hands linked behind her back and head bowed.
“Beautiful,” Kate murmurs. “Absolutely gorgeous. Stand up, let me see your artwork. This…hm. This changes somewhat what I had in mind.” She doesn’t sound displeased by the thought, Abby notices. Just that it’s something to consider. “I would not dare damage such gorgeous ink,” Kate says, skimming a finger over the cross on Abby’s back and up to the spiderweb. “Tell me your feelings on shibari?”
“I’ve never really tried it, Mistress,” Abby says. “I’ve seen some gorgeous pictures of it, though, and it’s always looked interesting.”
“Had we more time,” Kate says, “and a suitable venue, I would love to display you, bound. It would still be worth it to consider for the evening, but…I would want pictures, and that is a bit much to ask for a five-minute introduction.”
She doesn’t seem to want an answer, for which Abby’s grateful-she’s torn between saying ‘Anything you want, Mistress’, the way a good sub does, and being rational Abby and going ‘Whoa, no way in fucking hell are you taking pictures of me tied up and naked when I don’t even know your last name and home location.’
Kate kisses her again, slow and almost lazy in that way predators can be, as if she knows she’s got all the time in the world because there’s nowhere for Abby to go. Abby shivers, reminds herself that she wants this, that she let Kate pick her up and take her home and whatever happens between now and eight o’clock in the morning, she’s kind of at Kate’s mercy.
Kate really had better not be a psychopathic serial killer, she thinks, just as Kate’s fingers press against her clit and Abby comes for the first time, shuddering and jerking against Kate’s body.
Abby comes twice more before Kate even gets her boots off, once with Kate’s fingers pressing deep inside her, just right, and once with Kate’s thigh between her legs and Kate urging her to move, roll her hips, ride it out. Abby can’t do anything but, Kate’s mouth hot on her neck and her ear.
Kate lets Abby sprawl on the bed after that one, skin damp with sweat and still trying to catch her breath, which means Abby gets to watch as Kate undresses. She’s not coy about it, but neither is she in a rush; each piece of clothing comes off and gets tossed in the wicker hamper against one wall. Her boots are set neatly in the closet-okay, so she lives here or is at least staying here for a bit, Abby thinks. That makes her relax a little more inside.
Naked, Kate turns out to have the kind of body Olympic athletes dream of. There’s not a spare ounce of flesh on her; everything is toned, sculpted muscle and smooth skin. She’s curved in all the right places, though, and Abby can’t wait to get her hands on Kate.
“Agapi mou,” Kate murmurs, crawling onto the bed over Abby and leaning down to kiss her, slow and easy. “Shall I bind you? Blindfold you? Play with your breasts? Tell me what you want.”
“Let me taste you, Mistress, please,” Abby whispers. “Let me please you, please?”
Kate laughs softly and kisses her again. “You beg so beautifully,” she says. “Yes. I will let you have this.”
She settles on her back and Abby crawls down between her legs, pressing a kiss to Kate’s stomach on the way. It turns out Kate’s either waxed or shaved completely bare-wax, Abby decides after kissing Kate’s pubis. Too smooth for a razor blade. And she knows Kate didn’t do this just for her, but damn, Abby appreciates it.
Kate slides one hand into Abby’s hair, tugging gently-not an order, just a reminder of who’s in control. Abby gets the message and shifts a little, giving Kate one long lick. Kate’s hot and wet , almost dripping, and it’s been way too long since Abby had the chance to go down on a woman. She closes her eyes, focusing on the musk-salt taste of Kate’s cunt, the heat of her and the way her hand flexes in Abby’s hair when Abby does something she particularly likes.
Abby loses track of time with her head between Kate’s legs, but she doesn’t think it’s all that long before Kate shudders and bucks up against Abby’s mouth, one sharp indrawn breath the only sound she makes. “Enough,” she says when Abby doesn’t quite stop. “Come up here, milaya moya.” She tugs Abby’s hair and Abby licks her lips, crawling up to lie next to Kate.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” Kate says, kissing Abby. “You did very well.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Abby murmurs, blushing and annoyed about it.
Kate strokes Abby’s hair, smoothing it back from her face. “So many things I can do with you,” she says. “Are you a masochist, Abby?”
“Sort of, Mistress,” Abby says. “I like pain, but not-not too much, you know?”
“I know,” Kate says.
Kate does know, it turns out, and she knows exactly how much Abby can take without pushing her too far, pleasure and pain. She makes Abby come over and over again, from her fingers, her mouth, a toy or two. Kate cuffs her to the bed, blindfolds her, uses her in so many ways Abby loses track of everything except what Kate’s doing to her right that moment. She knows Kate gets off on it, feels it when Kate shudders and gasps against her body, and every time a thrill runs through her, that she’s the one to make Kate come.
“Please, Mistress,” Abby says finally, hoarse and spent. “No more, please, I can’t…I can’t take it.”
“Shh, sweet girl,” Kate says, uncuffing her, drawing Abby in against her body and petting her. “I have you. Relax.”
Abby closes her eyes, aware her lashes are wet, and lets Kate hold her. “You did tell me you’d make me beg to stop,” she mumbles.
“I did,” Kate says, amused. “Just relax. I am very, very pleased with you, Abby.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Abby says, already dozing off. It can’t be too much later when Kate kisses her awake and Abby mumbles a protest.
“Eight o’clock, Abby,” Kate says. “Safe call.”
Abby groans, but takes the phone Kate hands her and dials. She gets Jill, who laughs at the sound of Abby’s voice and promises she’ll let Ewan know she’s fine. Abby thanks her, hangs up, and falls back asleep before she can think.
When she wakes later, the clock on the nightstand tells her it’s 1:06 and the bed is empty of Kate. It does, however, have two folded towels, a collection of toiletries, and a clean t-shirt and pair of loose black pants. Abby gets the hint and finds the bathroom, spending a good twenty minutes under the most amazing showerhead ever.
Kate’s also left her a fresh toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb, and a package of hair ties. Abby bundles her hair up into a ponytail, not bothering with pigtails today, and pulls on the clothes Kate left her before going in search of her.
The apartment’s not that big, and Kate’s not hard to find. She’s in the kitchen, preparing something involving grilled chicken and tomatoes and what Abby thinks is tzatziki sauce. “Afternoon,” she says, glancing up when Abby comes in. “I was just making lunch. Do you object to souvlaki?”
Abby shakes her head. “Not at all.”
She devours two of them, in fact, washing them down with really good coffee, finally sinking back into the kitchen chair with a groan of satiation. “That was really, really good,” she says.
“Thank you,” Kate says, sipping her own coffee. There’s a comfortable silence for a minute, then Kate sets her mug down. “If you would like to go home, I can either arrange for a cab to take you or bring you myself on my bike. However, you are welcome to stay through tomorrow, should you like.”
Abby considers this for a moment. She has the address of where they are. Kate’s fed her, clothed her, and hasn’t done anything either overtly or covertly suspicious toward Abby. Points in her favor. Also, she’s had the best lesbian sex of her life with Kate, and every hope of more if she stays.
On the other hand, she doesn’t have her cell phone or her computer, and being out of touch for two days is going to alert a few people. Abby wrinkles her nose at that and sets down her mug. “Do you have a laptop I can borrow for a few minutes?” she asks.
“I have a laptop you may use, yes,” Kate says. “Does that mean you will stay?”
“I think it does,” Abby says, smiling.
Kate smiles back. “Good,” she says. “I am glad to hear that.”
They clean up after lunch and Kate shows her what Abby had thought was a spare bedroom and turns out to be a very well equipped office, complete with guest desk and laptop. “The laptop is on the wireless network but is not connected to anything else, and I ask that you respect that,” Kate says.
Sensitive files, much? Abby shrugs; it’s a reasonable request. “I won’t go hacking,” she promises. She accesses her home email, sees nothing that requires an immediate or even timely response, and checks her cell phone for messages. She’s got two texts from Tony and a voicemail from Sister Rosita letting her know that bowling time for next weekend has been changed to four p.m. Okay, nothing urgent there, and she sends a quick note to Tony letting him know she’s with a friend and will fill him in on Monday.
She’s pretty sure he might combust if she’s not careful, so she’ll have to edit what she tells him.
Abby logs off the computer and sees Kate studying her own monitor, but whatever it’s displaying makes no sense to her. Kate mutters something under her breath, hits a few keys, and the image disappears, replaced by email. She sends a quick note to someone and puts the computer to sleep. “That,” she says, almost to herself, “will be annoying.”
“Problem?” Abby asks.
Kate shakes herself and smiles. “Nothing I cannot handle,” she says. “A minor work annoyance.”
“It’s the weekend,” Abby says, walking over to Kate and draping her arms around Kate’s shoulders. “No working on the weekend.”
“Some things I cannot avoid,” Kate says, covering Abby’s hands with her own. “But I will limit my work as much as possible while you are here.”
“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for,” Abby says, kissing Kate’s temple.
“It is,” Kate says. She twists back and kisses Abby lightly. “But work is done for now.”
“Time to play,” Abby says, kissing Kate’s jaw.
“And what would you like to play, sweet girl?” Kate asks, swiveling her chair around to face Abby and drawing Abby down into her lap. “Have you rested enough?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Abby says, already falling without meaning to. She can’t help it-Kate’s just that dominant, and she pushes every single one of Abby’s sub buttons.
“Good,” Kate murmurs and kisses her again.
This entry was originally posted at http://blueraccoon.dreamwidth.org/966085.html. You can comment here or there. |
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The genesis of this story began months ago, when
leupagus was running a Mary Sue prompt-a-thon. I have, among my stable of gay boys and OCs, a character called Kate, who by some standards might be considered a Mary Sue and by other standards might be considered a sociopathic serial killer. Such an OFC fit very well within the guidelines of the prompt-a-thon, so I started work on an NCIS fic to showcase her.
I ended up with two related chapters, one very porny, one very casefic-y. Neither were finished, and at this point I think it's very likely that they never will be. With my luck I'll end up with a third chapter that won't finish either.
Regardless, I'm actually pretty pleased with how the unfinished chapters turned out, and Kate's been restless in my head lately, so I made the decision to post them here. I will say that there are no cliffhangers, that the porn doesn't leave anyone unsatisfied and that the casefic (such as it is) has a conclusion. However, it's still unfinished, and please, don't ask me to finish it.
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Abby/OFC (Kate)
Rating: NC-17 for chapter 1, PG-13 for chapter 2
Warnings: Kinky consensual sex?
Notes: See above. As I said in the title of this post, let the reader beware.
Abby goes to the club to relax, unwind, have a Red Bull or two and dance. Maybe watch a scene, if there’s one happening, maybe flirt a little if anyone looks particularly interesting. She’s done up for the night in Goth Lolita-chic, black plaid miniskirt and knee high boots, tight white blouse unbuttoned just so to reveal the black lace bra underneath. Pretty casual, for her, but she’s not really looking for a scene, or a sex partner.
She’s leaning against the bar, sipping a fruit juice blend, when the energy in the room shifts toward the door and Abby looks over automatically. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she says, because the woman walking in the door looks like she owns the club and Abby sees at least three subs hit their knees as she passes them by. Leather pants, snug in all the right places, impressive black boots, black t-shirt that Abby’s pretty sure is silk, black motorcycle gloves on her hands. It’s all clearly well-worn in and fits her like a fucking glove; whoever she is, this isn’t some wanna-be or poser.
She’s got high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes-not Asian, exactly, but maybe Eastern European? Abby’s not sure. Dark red hair , too far away to judge eye color, but she’s walking over to the bar and Abby tries not to drool or squirm too obviously. Brown eyes, she notices as the woman gets closer. Almost hazel.
“What’s your pleasure, Lady?” Ewan asks from behind the bar as the woman slides onto a stool next to Abby.
“Hmm.” The woman smiles lazily and glances around the room, seemingly surveying it and dismissing it all at once, before turning to Abby. She gives Abby a closer look, and Abby finds herself blushing for absolutely no reason. This is ridiculous. It’s not like this unknown person is any more of a Domme than-than Gibbs, and she can stand up to Gibbs anytime.
Okay, maybe in the middle of a kink club she wouldn’t be standing up to Gibbs either, but that’s…
“Do you have a name, lovely?”the woman asks. Abby thinks she’s got a Russian accent; definitely Eastern European but she’d need a linguist to get more specific. There’s a trace of something else, too, but she can’t pin that down.
“Abby, Mistress,” she says, glancing up quickly before looking down at leather pants and tightly laced boots. “May I ask yours?”
“So polite,” the woman says. “I like this. I am Kate.”
Okay. Whoa. Hadn’t expected that. Abby flinches involuntarily at the memory of another Kate, and when she looks up, this new Kate is studying her. “I remind you of someone?” she asks.
“Not you,” Abby says. “I had a-a friend named Kate once.” Please don’t ask what happened to her, she thinks.
“Call me Katya, then,” Kate says. “Or Mistress will serve. Are you under someone’s collar for the night?”
“No, Mistress,” Abby murmurs, grateful Kate-Katya-didn’t ask. “I’m a free agent.”
“Good,” Kate murmurs. “Very good. Safeword?”
“Red, Mistress,” Abby says, licking dry lips.
Kate nods, stripping off the glove on her left hand. She’s got a gold wristband on, with a black slash. The black means she’s a visiting member from another club. The gold means she’s been personally vouched for by Jill, Ewan, or Ruben, the three owners and managers. “Does this satisfy you?” she asks.
Abby glances up at Ewan. “You know her?” she asks, regaining a little steadiness in her voice.
Ewan nods. “She’s good,” he says in his usual calm way. “You’ll be safe with her.”
“I don’t do permanent marks, I don’t do bloodplay without a test, and I don’t do breathplay on a first scene,” Abby tells Kate. “Bathroom functions are completely out and I don’t like being humiliated.”
“Believe me, agapi mou, humiliating you is the last thing on my mind,” Kate says softly, getting off her stool. She cups the back of Abby’s skull in her hand and kisses her, claiming her mouth and making Abby whimper. “Come with me,” she says when she pulls back, slipping on her glove. “I prefer my own room.”
Abby hesitates on that one. She’s safe with Kate on club property, but Kate could take her anywhere, and-“I want a safe call,” she says.
“Smart and beautiful,” Kate comments. “Will Ewan suit?”
Abby nods. “In one hour, and again at eight in the morning.”
Ewan writes it down and Abby scrawls her signature. The blue paper gets tacked to the board and Abby breathes out, still a little uncertain this is actually happening.
“Come, sweet girl,” Kate says a little more sharply when Abby doesn’t move, and she almost stumbles in her hurry.
Kate’s motorcycle gloves have a purpose, it seems; she has a motorcycle outside. A sleek, gorgeous one with a spare helmet which Abby pulls on before sliding onto the bike behind Kate and wrapping her arms around Kate’s waist.
She closes her eyes as they drive, not really keeping track of turns and stops, her senses full of the scent of motorcycle and gasoline and leather and Kate, the wind rushing past her, the vibration of the bike enough to soak her panties and have her two steps from coming when Kate parks outside a brownstone. “Did you enjoy the ride, sweet girl?” Kate asks, securing the helmets and turning to Abby.
“Yes, Mistress,” Abby murmurs. “Very much.”
Kate laughs, holding a hand out for Abby. “Come along, my girl,” she says. “You are wearing far too many clothes.”
They’re on the third floor of the brownstone, or that’s where Kate takes her. Abby looks around but doesn’t take much of it in, noting art that looks real and flowers that look fresh.
“We will be in here,” Kate says, leading her down the hall and into a large bedroom. Four poster king size bed is mostly what Abby sees; the rest of it kind of blurs. She breathes out slowly, trying to regain control.
“You like the bike,” Kate says lazily, walking around Abby in a circle and ending up behind her. “Just how much, sweet girl?” She slips a hand under Abby’s skirt and into her panties, stroking her and making Abby tremble and whimper. “So wet,” Kate says, circling Abby’s clit with a gentle finger. “So open for me to play with. I make you a promise, milaya moya-by the time I am done with you, you will beg me to stop.”
“Am I allowed to come, Mistress?” Abby whispers. “Or only when you say?”
Kate laughs and brushes a kiss over the tender spot just behind Abby’s ear. “Oh, lovely, you may come as often as you can. I plan to find out just how much you can take.”
Abby swallows a moan and licks dry lips. She’s so close right now, just from Kate’s finger circling her clit and her voice at Abby’s ear-and then it all gets taken away, Kate slides her hand out of Abby’s panties and steps back from her and Abby almost whines in protest. “Mistress?” she asks instead, hearing the uncertain waver in her voice and hating it.
“It has been one hour, milaya moya,” Kate states. “Time for your safe call.”
Right. Safe call. Ewan. Kate not being some weird deviant serial killer. Abby groans at the timing and looks for a phone, her own having been left at home when she went out for the evening. Kate hands her a black handset and she dials the club from memory, pacing a bit because she’s too keyed up to stand still, so wet she feels her thighs sticking together as she walks.
“Steel Rose, this is Ewan, how may we serve?”
“Ewan, it’s Abby,” she says, closing her eyes in relief. “I’m fine, we’re fine, we’re at some brownstone, I don’t know exactly where-“
Kate gives her the address, which Abby relays over the phone. “So somewhere in Georgetown, then,” she says. “It’s what, eleven now? I’ll call you again at eight?”
“Sounds good,” Ewan says. “If the night ends earlier, call me then just so I know. By eight you may get Jill instead of me, is that all right?”
“Yeah, that’s fine, it’s all fine, I really want to go back to what was promising to be amazing sex now, so, uh, can we chit-chat later?” Abby asks sheepishly.
Ewan laughs. “Bye, Abs.”
She hits disconnect and hands the phone back to Kate, who smiles and sets it back in its cradle. “Undress for me, sweet girl,” she says, leaning against one of the bed footposts. “You may put your clothes in the top drawer of the chest.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Abby says, already feeling the spiral down into subspace. She undresses carefully but quickly, taking the time to fold her clothes and shake out her hair, and kneels in front of Kate when she’s done, hands linked behind her back and head bowed.
“Beautiful,” Kate murmurs. “Absolutely gorgeous. Stand up, let me see your artwork. This…hm. This changes somewhat what I had in mind.” She doesn’t sound displeased by the thought, Abby notices. Just that it’s something to consider. “I would not dare damage such gorgeous ink,” Kate says, skimming a finger over the cross on Abby’s back and up to the spiderweb. “Tell me your feelings on shibari?”
“I’ve never really tried it, Mistress,” Abby says. “I’ve seen some gorgeous pictures of it, though, and it’s always looked interesting.”
“Had we more time,” Kate says, “and a suitable venue, I would love to display you, bound. It would still be worth it to consider for the evening, but…I would want pictures, and that is a bit much to ask for a five-minute introduction.”
She doesn’t seem to want an answer, for which Abby’s grateful-she’s torn between saying ‘Anything you want, Mistress’, the way a good sub does, and being rational Abby and going ‘Whoa, no way in fucking hell are you taking pictures of me tied up and naked when I don’t even know your last name and home location.’
Kate kisses her again, slow and almost lazy in that way predators can be, as if she knows she’s got all the time in the world because there’s nowhere for Abby to go. Abby shivers, reminds herself that she wants this, that she let Kate pick her up and take her home and whatever happens between now and eight o’clock in the morning, she’s kind of at Kate’s mercy.
Kate really had better not be a psychopathic serial killer, she thinks, just as Kate’s fingers press against her clit and Abby comes for the first time, shuddering and jerking against Kate’s body.
Abby comes twice more before Kate even gets her boots off, once with Kate’s fingers pressing deep inside her, just right, and once with Kate’s thigh between her legs and Kate urging her to move, roll her hips, ride it out. Abby can’t do anything but, Kate’s mouth hot on her neck and her ear.
Kate lets Abby sprawl on the bed after that one, skin damp with sweat and still trying to catch her breath, which means Abby gets to watch as Kate undresses. She’s not coy about it, but neither is she in a rush; each piece of clothing comes off and gets tossed in the wicker hamper against one wall. Her boots are set neatly in the closet-okay, so she lives here or is at least staying here for a bit, Abby thinks. That makes her relax a little more inside.
Naked, Kate turns out to have the kind of body Olympic athletes dream of. There’s not a spare ounce of flesh on her; everything is toned, sculpted muscle and smooth skin. She’s curved in all the right places, though, and Abby can’t wait to get her hands on Kate.
“Agapi mou,” Kate murmurs, crawling onto the bed over Abby and leaning down to kiss her, slow and easy. “Shall I bind you? Blindfold you? Play with your breasts? Tell me what you want.”
“Let me taste you, Mistress, please,” Abby whispers. “Let me please you, please?”
Kate laughs softly and kisses her again. “You beg so beautifully,” she says. “Yes. I will let you have this.”
She settles on her back and Abby crawls down between her legs, pressing a kiss to Kate’s stomach on the way. It turns out Kate’s either waxed or shaved completely bare-wax, Abby decides after kissing Kate’s pubis. Too smooth for a razor blade. And she knows Kate didn’t do this just for her, but damn, Abby appreciates it.
Kate slides one hand into Abby’s hair, tugging gently-not an order, just a reminder of who’s in control. Abby gets the message and shifts a little, giving Kate one long lick. Kate’s hot and wet , almost dripping, and it’s been way too long since Abby had the chance to go down on a woman. She closes her eyes, focusing on the musk-salt taste of Kate’s cunt, the heat of her and the way her hand flexes in Abby’s hair when Abby does something she particularly likes.
Abby loses track of time with her head between Kate’s legs, but she doesn’t think it’s all that long before Kate shudders and bucks up against Abby’s mouth, one sharp indrawn breath the only sound she makes. “Enough,” she says when Abby doesn’t quite stop. “Come up here, milaya moya.” She tugs Abby’s hair and Abby licks her lips, crawling up to lie next to Kate.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” Kate says, kissing Abby. “You did very well.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Abby murmurs, blushing and annoyed about it.
Kate strokes Abby’s hair, smoothing it back from her face. “So many things I can do with you,” she says. “Are you a masochist, Abby?”
“Sort of, Mistress,” Abby says. “I like pain, but not-not too much, you know?”
“I know,” Kate says.
Kate does know, it turns out, and she knows exactly how much Abby can take without pushing her too far, pleasure and pain. She makes Abby come over and over again, from her fingers, her mouth, a toy or two. Kate cuffs her to the bed, blindfolds her, uses her in so many ways Abby loses track of everything except what Kate’s doing to her right that moment. She knows Kate gets off on it, feels it when Kate shudders and gasps against her body, and every time a thrill runs through her, that she’s the one to make Kate come.
“Please, Mistress,” Abby says finally, hoarse and spent. “No more, please, I can’t…I can’t take it.”
“Shh, sweet girl,” Kate says, uncuffing her, drawing Abby in against her body and petting her. “I have you. Relax.”
Abby closes her eyes, aware her lashes are wet, and lets Kate hold her. “You did tell me you’d make me beg to stop,” she mumbles.
“I did,” Kate says, amused. “Just relax. I am very, very pleased with you, Abby.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Abby says, already dozing off. It can’t be too much later when Kate kisses her awake and Abby mumbles a protest.
“Eight o’clock, Abby,” Kate says. “Safe call.”
Abby groans, but takes the phone Kate hands her and dials. She gets Jill, who laughs at the sound of Abby’s voice and promises she’ll let Ewan know she’s fine. Abby thanks her, hangs up, and falls back asleep before she can think.
When she wakes later, the clock on the nightstand tells her it’s 1:06 and the bed is empty of Kate. It does, however, have two folded towels, a collection of toiletries, and a clean t-shirt and pair of loose black pants. Abby gets the hint and finds the bathroom, spending a good twenty minutes under the most amazing showerhead ever.
Kate’s also left her a fresh toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb, and a package of hair ties. Abby bundles her hair up into a ponytail, not bothering with pigtails today, and pulls on the clothes Kate left her before going in search of her.
The apartment’s not that big, and Kate’s not hard to find. She’s in the kitchen, preparing something involving grilled chicken and tomatoes and what Abby thinks is tzatziki sauce. “Afternoon,” she says, glancing up when Abby comes in. “I was just making lunch. Do you object to souvlaki?”
Abby shakes her head. “Not at all.”
She devours two of them, in fact, washing them down with really good coffee, finally sinking back into the kitchen chair with a groan of satiation. “That was really, really good,” she says.
“Thank you,” Kate says, sipping her own coffee. There’s a comfortable silence for a minute, then Kate sets her mug down. “If you would like to go home, I can either arrange for a cab to take you or bring you myself on my bike. However, you are welcome to stay through tomorrow, should you like.”
Abby considers this for a moment. She has the address of where they are. Kate’s fed her, clothed her, and hasn’t done anything either overtly or covertly suspicious toward Abby. Points in her favor. Also, she’s had the best lesbian sex of her life with Kate, and every hope of more if she stays.
On the other hand, she doesn’t have her cell phone or her computer, and being out of touch for two days is going to alert a few people. Abby wrinkles her nose at that and sets down her mug. “Do you have a laptop I can borrow for a few minutes?” she asks.
“I have a laptop you may use, yes,” Kate says. “Does that mean you will stay?”
“I think it does,” Abby says, smiling.
Kate smiles back. “Good,” she says. “I am glad to hear that.”
They clean up after lunch and Kate shows her what Abby had thought was a spare bedroom and turns out to be a very well equipped office, complete with guest desk and laptop. “The laptop is on the wireless network but is not connected to anything else, and I ask that you respect that,” Kate says.
Sensitive files, much? Abby shrugs; it’s a reasonable request. “I won’t go hacking,” she promises. She accesses her home email, sees nothing that requires an immediate or even timely response, and checks her cell phone for messages. She’s got two texts from Tony and a voicemail from Sister Rosita letting her know that bowling time for next weekend has been changed to four p.m. Okay, nothing urgent there, and she sends a quick note to Tony letting him know she’s with a friend and will fill him in on Monday.
She’s pretty sure he might combust if she’s not careful, so she’ll have to edit what she tells him.
Abby logs off the computer and sees Kate studying her own monitor, but whatever it’s displaying makes no sense to her. Kate mutters something under her breath, hits a few keys, and the image disappears, replaced by email. She sends a quick note to someone and puts the computer to sleep. “That,” she says, almost to herself, “will be annoying.”
“Problem?” Abby asks.
Kate shakes herself and smiles. “Nothing I cannot handle,” she says. “A minor work annoyance.”
“It’s the weekend,” Abby says, walking over to Kate and draping her arms around Kate’s shoulders. “No working on the weekend.”
“Some things I cannot avoid,” Kate says, covering Abby’s hands with her own. “But I will limit my work as much as possible while you are here.”
“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for,” Abby says, kissing Kate’s temple.
“It is,” Kate says. She twists back and kisses Abby lightly. “But work is done for now.”
“Time to play,” Abby says, kissing Kate’s jaw.
“And what would you like to play, sweet girl?” Kate asks, swiveling her chair around to face Abby and drawing Abby down into her lap. “Have you rested enough?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Abby says, already falling without meaning to. She can’t help it-Kate’s just that dominant, and she pushes every single one of Abby’s sub buttons.
“Good,” Kate murmurs and kisses her again.
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