{fic} Eager to Please/Lucky to Love Epilogue Part 1/4
Dave came up behind Kurt, wrapping his arms around his body and holding him tight. They stood on the roof looking out at the beautiful night sky. The dinner party was over and the guests had all gone home. Brittany and Santana were cleaning the kitchen. It was cold outside but with Dave’s arms wrapped around him, Kurt didn’t seem to notice the wintry December breeze at all.
“It was a nice party,” Dave mumbled into the scarf around Kurt’s neck.
“Hmm, yes it was. So happy you got both hospitals to commit. Figgins was doubtful…but I wasn’t.”
“Is that so?” Dave let his hand slip down the front of Kurt’s thick coat, snaking his way between two of the buttons in order to grab playfully at his building erection.
“Oh, Dave!” Kurt exclaimed, “Ready to go to bed so soon?”
“We don’t have to go all the way down there…if we’re already alone…up here.”
Kurt turned around in Dave’s arms, meeting his eyes. “I supposed we don’t, do we?” He cocked his head to the side just slightly, lifting his eyebrow as he licked his lower lip seductively. “It is rather cold, though…don’t you think?”
“I promise it won’t take long.” Dave fumbled between them, unbuttoning the bottom button of Kurt’s coat and reaching for the zipper of his pants. He dropped to his knees, pulling the sides of Kurt’s coat back over his head.
Kurt giggled, holding the coat together and conserving as much heat as he could as he felt his cock being released from his pants. He sucked his breath between his teeth, feeling the slightest rush of cool air as it swept over his exposed skin. But Dave’s lips were there in the next instant…warm and urgent, sucking and licking at his hardened length.
“Oh my god, David…yes…god, that feels so good…” Kurt held onto the back of Dave’s head underneath his coat, staring out at the gorgeous skyline, feeling the waves of bliss wash over him. It didn’t take long, Dave was right. Kurt had learned already that when Dave was intent of getting him off with his mouth, Kurt was powerless in trying to slow the inevitable. He came quietly, mewling into the silence of the night as Dave finished him off. He was being tucked back into his pants and Dave was standing and holding him before he could even come back to himself.
“It was a nice party…but that just made the evening so much better.”
Kurt hummed his agreement, burying his face in Dave’s warm chest. “I agree. But we should go to bed now. I really want to pay you back…just somewhere much warmer than right here.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Santana and Brittany finished cleaning up, turning out the lights in the loft and heading to Santana’s room. Brittany started to undress casually, getting ready for bed like she always did. Santana caught a glimpse of her bare skin, frozen where she was getting undressed herself. Kurt’s words had haunted her. She’d never experienced pleasure. It wasn’t allowed. What was he talking about? It wasn’t something she craved because it was drilled into her that she didn’t deserve it and she’d never receive it. So why…why would Kurt tell her it wasn’t just for masters. Why would he even imply that she and Brittany could break the rules like that?
But then again, living in Dave’s house, Santana knew the rules were different. First of all Kurt - that little boy she met so long ago, scared and crying for his mother, the weird, backwards girly-boy slave she had helped protect back in the very beginning of his training…he was basically her master now. Not that she ever called him that. Or even thought about it that way. But he was free and sleeping in her real master’s bed every night. She didn’t really think of Dave as a master either…everything she’d learned about what a master would be like, he didn’t fit. He was like a kind, patient, sometimes funny, but then sometimes really sweet friend. If what she knew about the word friend was true.
She worked for Dave, and now Kurt, not because she had some great sense of obligation or because she was in fear of punishment if she didn’t. She liked pleasing Dave. He was a good man. A shitty master, maybe. But a really good man. And that was better.
“Hey, Brit. Remember the last time we watched Grease? When you said you wanted to pretend you understood love even if you knew you couldn’t?”
Brittany turned, pulling her nightgown down over her head. Santana tried to force the color away from her cheeks. She still didn’t understand why that happened.
“Uh huh.”
“Ok. So let’s do that,” Santana nervously shifted her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and shrugging her shoulders. “Let’s um…pretend.”
Brittany smiled and nodded. “Miss Keysha plays pretend with me. She’ll be the princess and I get to be the ogre and I wear this ugly hat on my head and then one of her dolls, the prince doll comes and banishes me and…Miss Keysha says I’m good at playing the ogre. I think playing pretend is fun.”
“Yeah,” Santana took a step forward. “We can play a game like that. Let’s pretend…that um…” Santana felt so guilty. She knew this was breaking the rules. All the rules that she’d been told, forced to remember, threatened for. But Kurt was telling her something different. And she did like to make Brittany happy. She had to remind herself that she wouldn’t get in trouble. “Let’s pretend…that I’m a slave…and you’re my mistress,” she said quietly.
Brittany’s eyebrows shot up and she took a small step backwards. She shook her head slightly, “But San…we can’t pretend that,” she whispered.
“It’s ok.” Santana stepped forward. “I think we can. I mean, it’s just a game. I don’t really want you to be my mistress. Just like you don’t really want to be the ogre…but it’s fun to pretend. I promise, you won’t get in trouble. It’ll be our secret and your master and mistress won’t know. And I know Dave won’t mind. You know he’s not like normal masters, right?”
Brittany nodded. Dave was really different. She thought Dave was kind of mean for not letting Kurt or Santana pleasure him. But the way Kurt explained it, he didn’t really mind. He said hugs and kisses…love was better. She’d even received a hug or two from him and she had to admit they were really nice. But pretending to be a mistress was…it was strange to even think about. How? How would that game work?
Santana took a small step forward, biting her lower lip and waiting for Brittany to work it out in her head. She lowered her eyes respectfully as she took another small step, “Would you like for me to kiss you, my mistress?”
Brittany gasped. Strange, curious things happened in her belly at Santana’s words that she was completely unprepared for. But they were just pretending, right? It was just a game. She took a deep breath and stood a little bit taller, trying to imagine herself looking down on her slave. She giggled at the silliness of that thought but then got serious again. She spoke in a rough, authoritative voice, “Yes, slavegirl…I order you to kiss me, now.”
A kiss? Santana had never ever kissed anyone or anything and now she’d really gotten herself into it. She remembered seeing people kiss. The way Dave kissed Kurt’s hand was really weird. But sweet too. Santana reached out slowly, taking Brittany’s hand and kissing the back of it gently.
Brittany’s eyes were wide as she watched Santana’s lips press against her skin. She felt tingles in places she’d never felt before. “Not on my hand, slave,” Brittany snapped her hand back, her voice harsh and demanding despite her nervousness.
Santana kept her eyes down, “Where would my mistress like me to kiss her?”
“My lips, slave. I order you to kiss me on my lips.”
“Yes, mistress,” Santana stepped closer, leaning in and pressing a light kiss to Brittany’s mouth.
The things going on in Brittany’s head were new and scary and very, very exciting. Santana still hadn’t made eye contact with her, as a good slave wouldn’t. Seeing Santana act submissive and shy did strange things to her. A tiny, faint smile passed over Santana’s lips as she pulled away. She was feeling all kinds of things herself. Kurt was right. She knew Brittany was enjoying this game and she really liked making Brittany happy. But kissing her…that was amazing too.
Brittany exhaled roughly. Nothing in the world had ever felt like that. She tried to remember her training and what other things a slave could do for a mistress. All the time she’d been owned by Azimio and Kim she’d only pleasured him and several of his friends…never a female. But she remembered from her training…for some reason, breasts were important. She steadied herself, forced a firm voice as she studied Santana’s downcast face. “Next, you will put your hand on my breast, slave. Do it.”
Santana jumped at the urgency of the command. She cupped Brittany’s breast with her hand gently, gasping slightly at the feel and warmth of it.
Brittany looked down, seeing Santana’s hand there, over her heart. She felt like she might lose the ability to keep pretending. They stood there for several long moments, Santana’s hand trembling softly as she held Brittany’s breast and their breaths mingling in the small space between them. “I want…I want you to…I…” Brittany’s voice faltered. She didn’t know what she wanted to say…but she knew she wanted to keep pretending.
“Would it please my mistress,” Santana spoke softly, eyes locked on her hand where it rested, “to allow me to pleasure her now?”
“Santana!” Brittany gasped quietly, stepping back.
“Please, may I touch my mistress?” Santana stepped forward, staying in character, eyes still looking down, “Mistress, please…may I…?”
Brittany’s back was against the bedroom wall. She was suddenly wanting things she’d never dreamed of ever wanting or feeling and the game was all so strange and new and Santana was asking her and pleading with her to do things that she never knew she could do. She wanted to say yes so badly but she didn’t want to be punished for it.
“Mistress, may I…please pleasure you?”
Brittany panted as she stood against the wall. She looked at the door, nervous, knowing they could get in trouble but then looked back at Santana’s bowed head. She nodded as she whispered, “Yes slave, you may.”
Santana stepped forward, reaching for the hem of Brittany’s nightgown at her thighs. She pulled it slowly up and over her head, watching as her silky blonde hair fell back over her shoulders. Nudity was nothing new. They had dressed and undressed in front of each other before. Even at the facility, the females dressed and showered in community bathrooms. But since Santana had stopped taking her pills, she didn’t feel disconnected from it anymore. There was an eventual, growing realization that now, a naked body…Brittany’s naked body…did things to her, made her feel things.
Brittany trembled despite the warmth of the room and the color heating her cheeks. What next? What did they do now? She felt tingles in strange places. “Touch my breasts, slave…both of them.”
Santana’s hands went quickly to her breasts, cupping them…squeezing lightly. Her thumb gently flicked over one nipple as she kept her eyes staring at the floor.
God, oh god, oh god! Brittany felt like she might explode any second. But they’d come this far and she wasn’t done yet. She wanted more. So much more. Her nervousness was gone. She was confident and sure and she knew she had just discovered her favorite new game. “Now, slave, it is late. I will go to sleep in my bed and you will lie next to me to keep me warm, do you understand?”
Santana dropped her hands quickly and nodded.
Brittany turned towards the bed, taking a few steps and then looked over her shoulder to catch Santana’s stare. “Eyes down, slave. If you are not submissive you will punished.”
Santana looked down, twisting her lips nervously. She loved hearing Brittany talk like that…it made her feel so…naughty. She would do anything…anything at all her mistress asked of her now.
Brittany stopped at the edge of the bed and slipped her panties down, letting them fall to the ground. Santana gasped quietly when her downcast eyes saw them. She watched Brittany in her peripheral vision climb into her bed and scoot over. “Come to bed now, slave. Turn off the light and quickly get into bed.”
“Yes mistress.” Santana did as she was told, slipping between the sheets, lying still and on her back, unsure of what her mistress wanted her to do…waiting for her next command.
They laid in silence for a while, listening to each other's breaths. “Slave?” she finally said, breaking the silence.
“Yes mistress.”
“Give me your hand,” Brittany replied, soft and sultry, losing the harsh edge to her voice.
Santana rolled onto her side, finally meeting Brittany’s eyes in the darkness and smiling softly, “Yes mistress…”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Stop fidgeting, please.” Kurt was getting exasperated.
“Sorry,” Dave mumbled.
More silence. Time seemed to tick by so slowly. Dave grumbled with himself. He decided he hadn’t thought this through well enough when he asked Kurt to let him model for him. Somehow…he thought it’d be hot…and that it would lead to more great sex. But instead, he was sitting naked on a chair with his ankle crossed over his knee and a very studious-looking Kurt sketching away at his book. He grumbled internally. Not at all what he had in mind.
Kurt sketched furiously at the drawing on his paper. He hid his smirk, not letting on at all that he knew how miserable Dave was at that moment. But he could tell what he was thinking. He knew immediately, when Dave had suggested this, that he was only thinking about sex and being naked and the fact that being naked would hopefully lead to sex. Some men were so easy to figure out, Kurt mused as his hand flew over this paper. In the six weeks since they’d confessed their love and started sleeping together, Kurt realized that sex was what Dave thought about almost constantly.
He remembered to look up occasionally, still wanting Dave to think that he was in fact, drawing him. He was of course, but just not in that position. Kurt had never drawn himself…that’s what he was working on. He’d drawn Dave before. Many, many times. The pictures Dave had seen…and others he kept hidden. Nudes and mostly nudes…in different positions, doing different things. Seeing Dave naked for the first time had inspired Kurt to try his hand at a totally new type of drawing. Erotic art.
But now, he was trying to draw himself. And that was frustrating. He worked on his knee…he always had problems with knees. Why did Dave’s knee look fine and his didn’t? He furrowed his eyebrows, seeing Dave shift in his peripheral vision. “Stop fidgeting.”
“I can’t help it, I’m getting a cramp with my leg up like this.”
Kurt chuckled in spite of himself. “Ok, fine. Drop your leg down and stretch it for a minute. I’m uh, working on your shoulder right now anyway,” Kurt was starting to feel bad. He shouldn’t make Dave suffer like this. But he was almost done. And really…as good as the sex was gonna be…Dave could use a little exercise in patience. He’d forget all about that damn leg cramp as soon as he saw what he and Kurt were doing on this paper. Kurt noticed himself smiling and quickly wiped it off his face.
He looked down at his picture then up at Dave’s furrowed expression. “Is that the face you want yourself to have in this picture?” Kurt asked playfully.
“Does it matter?” Dave answered grumpily.
“No, I suppose not. I’ve already finished your face.” More guilt. Kurt needed to wrap this up. Just a little bit more work on Dave’s hand and what was in it…and maybe a little more shading around his own shoulder and back. He liked the way the sheets turned out. He sighed to himself, remembering the words of his art instructor, “True art is never finished, only abandoned.” He set his pencil down and sat up straighter, stretching slightly.
Dave noticed he stopped drawing. “Are you done? Can I move now?”
“Yes, I’m finished. You can move. You can come and look…too…if you want.” Kurt was unable to hide his guilty grin.
Dave stood, reaching both hands over his head, grasping one wrist with the other hand and stretching. Kurt’s jaw dropped. The sight of Dave’s naked body just did things to him. He’d have to remember that pose, that position for next time. He’d try to recreate it once he had a chance to draw by himself.
Dave walked over, still stretching out his shoulder as he reached for Kurt’s sketchbook. Kurt bit his lip to keep from giggling as he handed it over, keeping his expression as nonchalant as he could. He knew he failed.
Dave took the book and immediately his jaw dropped. His eyes darted back to Kurt, sitting innocently on the couch, his feet tucked under his butt like nothing in the world was wrong at that moment. Dave looked back at the drawing. It was him and Kurt…in bed…and in the sexiest of sexual positions, a 69. The expression on Kurt’s face was absolute rapture as he held Dave’s cock in his mouth and the look on Dave’s face…god it was so lifelike…as if Kurt had studied that face…his face, countless times. The way their legs were bent, the way the sheets twisted at their ankles and elbows, there was movement in the picture…it was more like a photograph, a snapshot of some incredible moment between the two of them…not an actual pencil sketch.
The only problem was, he and Kurt had never been in that position before. This wasn’t drawn from memory, it was drawn from desire.
Dave looked back at Kurt. He saw the slight blush and the guilty smile. “You little tease.”
“I’m only a tease if I don’t give in and let you have what you want…”
“And you know what I want…” Dave growled, tossing the sketchbook down and reaching for Kurt’s hand to pull him from the couch.
“That…?” he looked down at the picture.
“God yes.”
“Good…me too,” Kurt answered, walking past Dave and leading him down the hall and into their bedroom.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dave leaned over, reaching for his cell phone where it sat charging on his bedside table. “Figgins,” he said once the number was dialed. “Yeah, sorry, I’m not coming into work today.”
Kurt sniffled quietly where he lay next to Dave, listening to his conversation and feeling horrible.
“Yeah, not feeling well.” … “No, I’ll be in tomorrow, I’m sure it’s just a 24hr thing.” … “Yeah, I’ll email that to you later this afternoon. Alright, bye.”
Kurt closed his eyes, feeling bad that Dave called in sick to work for him. But once Dave was holding him again, with his strong arms wrapped around him, protecting him…he felt better. There was another sudden crack of thunder and Kurt flinched.
“It’s ok, sweetheart, I’m still here.”
Kurt sighed, snuggling into Dave’s body. “Are you really gonna stay in bed with me all day?”
“If you want me to, yeah.” Dave pulled back slightly, meeting Kurt’s eyes in the early morning light. “I’m here, I love you. I’ll stay just like this, holding you through the thunderstorm for as long as it lasts.”
Another thunderclap and Kurt flinched again but not as badly. “Thank you,” he whispered.
There was a knock on the door. “Come in, San,” Dave hollered over Kurt’s shoulder.
She opened the door cautiously. “Breakfast is done. It’s actually cold. What’s goin on?”
“Hey, thanks. Would you mind bringing it in here? We’re gonna stay in bed until the storm ends.”
Kurt buried his face in Dave’s chest, embarrassed by his straightforward and relaxed tone. Kurt couldn’t believe Dave was doing this all because of his fear of storms. But he loved him so much at that moment.
Santana brought in a large tray holding all the breakfast items that she’d cooked. Dave invited her up onto the bed and they sat around eating together and talking, Kurt still staying very close to Dave’s body and looking every now and then towards the window and the wind as it howled outside. He felt better. He tried to tell himself it was the fact that it was daytime and daytime storms just weren’t as bad as nighttime storms. But he knew better. It was all because of Dave. He felt protected and safe just being near him. He reached with his fork across the bed and stabbed at a turkey sausage, sitting back and taking a bite from the end.
“Stop that right now,” Dave mumbled, leaning over and stage-whispering into his hair, “or Santana will have to leave.”
Kurt chuckled, realizing the sexual innuendo of the sausage. “Oh come on, Dave,” he said as he held up the remaining three-fourths of the sausage link on the end of his fork, smiling wickedly. “I would never insult you like that.”
Deleted Scene #1 ~*~*~
The sushi restaurant that they’d stumbled across was perfect. Phoenix was amazing and Kurt was really enjoying seeing a part of the country he never knew existed. Dave was enjoying himself as well, seeing Kurt in a different setting, away from the loft and the kitchen and the chores. He tried to keep his mind on the fun they were having…and off of the fact that his desire for Kurt was threatening to eat him alive. They walked down the street, talking and laughing when they came back around to the fashion mall entrance and the advertisement for the current movies playing in the theatre on the top level.
“Even seen a real movie, Kurt?”
Kurt shot him a puzzled look. “Are you trying to tell me all the moves I’ve seen up until now have been fake?”
Dave laughed at Kurt’s joke. “No. I mean a real movie in a real movie theatre. You know, ‘the big screen.’” Dave used air quotes as he smiled back at Kurt’s questioning look.
Kurt shook his head. “No, I have not seen the ‘big screen,’ Dave,” Kurt answered, using air quotes himself.
“Well, then…let’s go.” They entered the mall and found the theatre on the top level, purchasing their tickets and finding their seats.
Kurt’s eyes were huge. The screen was indeed immense and there were so many seats. He’d never seen anything like it. They were still stuffed from the sushi but Dave bought popcorn and a soda anyway, telling Kurt he had no choice but to educate him by providing the full theatre experience. He quieted his sudden internal dialogue, telling him that the ‘full theatre experience’ could conceivably include a hand job or two as well. He was glad the darkened lighting hid his blush.
The movie was great. It was a blockbuster comedy with equal parts raunchy and slapstick. Dave laughed his ass off, watching Kurt’s expression at times to make sure he liked it. He had to explain some scenes, whispering quietly what parts Kurt wasn’t able to follow. But as they left the theatre and headed back to their hotel, Kurt admitted the movie, the shopping, dinner…the whole night out with Dave was one of the best he’d ever had.
Dave’s hand itched again to hold Kurt’s. His lips parted and his mouth watered whenever his eyes landed on those soft pink lips. He wanted Kurt so badly and yet he couldn’t make a move. They would go back to their room again, get dressed for bed and sleep. Alone but together, torturously close sharing a room. With Dave most likely suffering from an all-night semi on top of it.
Dave promised himself, as he watched Kurt walk across the room and climb into his bed, as he reached over and turned off the light…that there would be many, many more dates to come…better than this, ending much differently than this.
“It was a nice party,” Dave mumbled into the scarf around Kurt’s neck.
“Hmm, yes it was. So happy you got both hospitals to commit. Figgins was doubtful…but I wasn’t.”
“Is that so?” Dave let his hand slip down the front of Kurt’s thick coat, snaking his way between two of the buttons in order to grab playfully at his building erection.
“Oh, Dave!” Kurt exclaimed, “Ready to go to bed so soon?”
“We don’t have to go all the way down there…if we’re already alone…up here.”
Kurt turned around in Dave’s arms, meeting his eyes. “I supposed we don’t, do we?” He cocked his head to the side just slightly, lifting his eyebrow as he licked his lower lip seductively. “It is rather cold, though…don’t you think?”
“I promise it won’t take long.” Dave fumbled between them, unbuttoning the bottom button of Kurt’s coat and reaching for the zipper of his pants. He dropped to his knees, pulling the sides of Kurt’s coat back over his head.
Kurt giggled, holding the coat together and conserving as much heat as he could as he felt his cock being released from his pants. He sucked his breath between his teeth, feeling the slightest rush of cool air as it swept over his exposed skin. But Dave’s lips were there in the next instant…warm and urgent, sucking and licking at his hardened length.
“Oh my god, David…yes…god, that feels so good…” Kurt held onto the back of Dave’s head underneath his coat, staring out at the gorgeous skyline, feeling the waves of bliss wash over him. It didn’t take long, Dave was right. Kurt had learned already that when Dave was intent of getting him off with his mouth, Kurt was powerless in trying to slow the inevitable. He came quietly, mewling into the silence of the night as Dave finished him off. He was being tucked back into his pants and Dave was standing and holding him before he could even come back to himself.
“It was a nice party…but that just made the evening so much better.”
Kurt hummed his agreement, burying his face in Dave’s warm chest. “I agree. But we should go to bed now. I really want to pay you back…just somewhere much warmer than right here.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Santana and Brittany finished cleaning up, turning out the lights in the loft and heading to Santana’s room. Brittany started to undress casually, getting ready for bed like she always did. Santana caught a glimpse of her bare skin, frozen where she was getting undressed herself. Kurt’s words had haunted her. She’d never experienced pleasure. It wasn’t allowed. What was he talking about? It wasn’t something she craved because it was drilled into her that she didn’t deserve it and she’d never receive it. So why…why would Kurt tell her it wasn’t just for masters. Why would he even imply that she and Brittany could break the rules like that?
But then again, living in Dave’s house, Santana knew the rules were different. First of all Kurt - that little boy she met so long ago, scared and crying for his mother, the weird, backwards girly-boy slave she had helped protect back in the very beginning of his training…he was basically her master now. Not that she ever called him that. Or even thought about it that way. But he was free and sleeping in her real master’s bed every night. She didn’t really think of Dave as a master either…everything she’d learned about what a master would be like, he didn’t fit. He was like a kind, patient, sometimes funny, but then sometimes really sweet friend. If what she knew about the word friend was true.
She worked for Dave, and now Kurt, not because she had some great sense of obligation or because she was in fear of punishment if she didn’t. She liked pleasing Dave. He was a good man. A shitty master, maybe. But a really good man. And that was better.
“Hey, Brit. Remember the last time we watched Grease? When you said you wanted to pretend you understood love even if you knew you couldn’t?”
Brittany turned, pulling her nightgown down over her head. Santana tried to force the color away from her cheeks. She still didn’t understand why that happened.
“Uh huh.”
“Ok. So let’s do that,” Santana nervously shifted her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and shrugging her shoulders. “Let’s um…pretend.”
Brittany smiled and nodded. “Miss Keysha plays pretend with me. She’ll be the princess and I get to be the ogre and I wear this ugly hat on my head and then one of her dolls, the prince doll comes and banishes me and…Miss Keysha says I’m good at playing the ogre. I think playing pretend is fun.”
“Yeah,” Santana took a step forward. “We can play a game like that. Let’s pretend…that um…” Santana felt so guilty. She knew this was breaking the rules. All the rules that she’d been told, forced to remember, threatened for. But Kurt was telling her something different. And she did like to make Brittany happy. She had to remind herself that she wouldn’t get in trouble. “Let’s pretend…that I’m a slave…and you’re my mistress,” she said quietly.
Brittany’s eyebrows shot up and she took a small step backwards. She shook her head slightly, “But San…we can’t pretend that,” she whispered.
“It’s ok.” Santana stepped forward. “I think we can. I mean, it’s just a game. I don’t really want you to be my mistress. Just like you don’t really want to be the ogre…but it’s fun to pretend. I promise, you won’t get in trouble. It’ll be our secret and your master and mistress won’t know. And I know Dave won’t mind. You know he’s not like normal masters, right?”
Brittany nodded. Dave was really different. She thought Dave was kind of mean for not letting Kurt or Santana pleasure him. But the way Kurt explained it, he didn’t really mind. He said hugs and kisses…love was better. She’d even received a hug or two from him and she had to admit they were really nice. But pretending to be a mistress was…it was strange to even think about. How? How would that game work?
Santana took a small step forward, biting her lower lip and waiting for Brittany to work it out in her head. She lowered her eyes respectfully as she took another small step, “Would you like for me to kiss you, my mistress?”
Brittany gasped. Strange, curious things happened in her belly at Santana’s words that she was completely unprepared for. But they were just pretending, right? It was just a game. She took a deep breath and stood a little bit taller, trying to imagine herself looking down on her slave. She giggled at the silliness of that thought but then got serious again. She spoke in a rough, authoritative voice, “Yes, slavegirl…I order you to kiss me, now.”
A kiss? Santana had never ever kissed anyone or anything and now she’d really gotten herself into it. She remembered seeing people kiss. The way Dave kissed Kurt’s hand was really weird. But sweet too. Santana reached out slowly, taking Brittany’s hand and kissing the back of it gently.
Brittany’s eyes were wide as she watched Santana’s lips press against her skin. She felt tingles in places she’d never felt before. “Not on my hand, slave,” Brittany snapped her hand back, her voice harsh and demanding despite her nervousness.
Santana kept her eyes down, “Where would my mistress like me to kiss her?”
“My lips, slave. I order you to kiss me on my lips.”
“Yes, mistress,” Santana stepped closer, leaning in and pressing a light kiss to Brittany’s mouth.
The things going on in Brittany’s head were new and scary and very, very exciting. Santana still hadn’t made eye contact with her, as a good slave wouldn’t. Seeing Santana act submissive and shy did strange things to her. A tiny, faint smile passed over Santana’s lips as she pulled away. She was feeling all kinds of things herself. Kurt was right. She knew Brittany was enjoying this game and she really liked making Brittany happy. But kissing her…that was amazing too.
Brittany exhaled roughly. Nothing in the world had ever felt like that. She tried to remember her training and what other things a slave could do for a mistress. All the time she’d been owned by Azimio and Kim she’d only pleasured him and several of his friends…never a female. But she remembered from her training…for some reason, breasts were important. She steadied herself, forced a firm voice as she studied Santana’s downcast face. “Next, you will put your hand on my breast, slave. Do it.”
Santana jumped at the urgency of the command. She cupped Brittany’s breast with her hand gently, gasping slightly at the feel and warmth of it.
Brittany looked down, seeing Santana’s hand there, over her heart. She felt like she might lose the ability to keep pretending. They stood there for several long moments, Santana’s hand trembling softly as she held Brittany’s breast and their breaths mingling in the small space between them. “I want…I want you to…I…” Brittany’s voice faltered. She didn’t know what she wanted to say…but she knew she wanted to keep pretending.
“Would it please my mistress,” Santana spoke softly, eyes locked on her hand where it rested, “to allow me to pleasure her now?”
“Santana!” Brittany gasped quietly, stepping back.
“Please, may I touch my mistress?” Santana stepped forward, staying in character, eyes still looking down, “Mistress, please…may I…?”
Brittany’s back was against the bedroom wall. She was suddenly wanting things she’d never dreamed of ever wanting or feeling and the game was all so strange and new and Santana was asking her and pleading with her to do things that she never knew she could do. She wanted to say yes so badly but she didn’t want to be punished for it.
“Mistress, may I…please pleasure you?”
Brittany panted as she stood against the wall. She looked at the door, nervous, knowing they could get in trouble but then looked back at Santana’s bowed head. She nodded as she whispered, “Yes slave, you may.”
Santana stepped forward, reaching for the hem of Brittany’s nightgown at her thighs. She pulled it slowly up and over her head, watching as her silky blonde hair fell back over her shoulders. Nudity was nothing new. They had dressed and undressed in front of each other before. Even at the facility, the females dressed and showered in community bathrooms. But since Santana had stopped taking her pills, she didn’t feel disconnected from it anymore. There was an eventual, growing realization that now, a naked body…Brittany’s naked body…did things to her, made her feel things.
Brittany trembled despite the warmth of the room and the color heating her cheeks. What next? What did they do now? She felt tingles in strange places. “Touch my breasts, slave…both of them.”
Santana’s hands went quickly to her breasts, cupping them…squeezing lightly. Her thumb gently flicked over one nipple as she kept her eyes staring at the floor.
God, oh god, oh god! Brittany felt like she might explode any second. But they’d come this far and she wasn’t done yet. She wanted more. So much more. Her nervousness was gone. She was confident and sure and she knew she had just discovered her favorite new game. “Now, slave, it is late. I will go to sleep in my bed and you will lie next to me to keep me warm, do you understand?”
Santana dropped her hands quickly and nodded.
Brittany turned towards the bed, taking a few steps and then looked over her shoulder to catch Santana’s stare. “Eyes down, slave. If you are not submissive you will punished.”
Santana looked down, twisting her lips nervously. She loved hearing Brittany talk like that…it made her feel so…naughty. She would do anything…anything at all her mistress asked of her now.
Brittany stopped at the edge of the bed and slipped her panties down, letting them fall to the ground. Santana gasped quietly when her downcast eyes saw them. She watched Brittany in her peripheral vision climb into her bed and scoot over. “Come to bed now, slave. Turn off the light and quickly get into bed.”
“Yes mistress.” Santana did as she was told, slipping between the sheets, lying still and on her back, unsure of what her mistress wanted her to do…waiting for her next command.
They laid in silence for a while, listening to each other's breaths. “Slave?” she finally said, breaking the silence.
“Yes mistress.”
“Give me your hand,” Brittany replied, soft and sultry, losing the harsh edge to her voice.
Santana rolled onto her side, finally meeting Brittany’s eyes in the darkness and smiling softly, “Yes mistress…”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Stop fidgeting, please.” Kurt was getting exasperated.
“Sorry,” Dave mumbled.
More silence. Time seemed to tick by so slowly. Dave grumbled with himself. He decided he hadn’t thought this through well enough when he asked Kurt to let him model for him. Somehow…he thought it’d be hot…and that it would lead to more great sex. But instead, he was sitting naked on a chair with his ankle crossed over his knee and a very studious-looking Kurt sketching away at his book. He grumbled internally. Not at all what he had in mind.
Kurt sketched furiously at the drawing on his paper. He hid his smirk, not letting on at all that he knew how miserable Dave was at that moment. But he could tell what he was thinking. He knew immediately, when Dave had suggested this, that he was only thinking about sex and being naked and the fact that being naked would hopefully lead to sex. Some men were so easy to figure out, Kurt mused as his hand flew over this paper. In the six weeks since they’d confessed their love and started sleeping together, Kurt realized that sex was what Dave thought about almost constantly.
He remembered to look up occasionally, still wanting Dave to think that he was in fact, drawing him. He was of course, but just not in that position. Kurt had never drawn himself…that’s what he was working on. He’d drawn Dave before. Many, many times. The pictures Dave had seen…and others he kept hidden. Nudes and mostly nudes…in different positions, doing different things. Seeing Dave naked for the first time had inspired Kurt to try his hand at a totally new type of drawing. Erotic art.
But now, he was trying to draw himself. And that was frustrating. He worked on his knee…he always had problems with knees. Why did Dave’s knee look fine and his didn’t? He furrowed his eyebrows, seeing Dave shift in his peripheral vision. “Stop fidgeting.”
“I can’t help it, I’m getting a cramp with my leg up like this.”
Kurt chuckled in spite of himself. “Ok, fine. Drop your leg down and stretch it for a minute. I’m uh, working on your shoulder right now anyway,” Kurt was starting to feel bad. He shouldn’t make Dave suffer like this. But he was almost done. And really…as good as the sex was gonna be…Dave could use a little exercise in patience. He’d forget all about that damn leg cramp as soon as he saw what he and Kurt were doing on this paper. Kurt noticed himself smiling and quickly wiped it off his face.
He looked down at his picture then up at Dave’s furrowed expression. “Is that the face you want yourself to have in this picture?” Kurt asked playfully.
“Does it matter?” Dave answered grumpily.
“No, I suppose not. I’ve already finished your face.” More guilt. Kurt needed to wrap this up. Just a little bit more work on Dave’s hand and what was in it…and maybe a little more shading around his own shoulder and back. He liked the way the sheets turned out. He sighed to himself, remembering the words of his art instructor, “True art is never finished, only abandoned.” He set his pencil down and sat up straighter, stretching slightly.
Dave noticed he stopped drawing. “Are you done? Can I move now?”
“Yes, I’m finished. You can move. You can come and look…too…if you want.” Kurt was unable to hide his guilty grin.
Dave stood, reaching both hands over his head, grasping one wrist with the other hand and stretching. Kurt’s jaw dropped. The sight of Dave’s naked body just did things to him. He’d have to remember that pose, that position for next time. He’d try to recreate it once he had a chance to draw by himself.
Dave walked over, still stretching out his shoulder as he reached for Kurt’s sketchbook. Kurt bit his lip to keep from giggling as he handed it over, keeping his expression as nonchalant as he could. He knew he failed.
Dave took the book and immediately his jaw dropped. His eyes darted back to Kurt, sitting innocently on the couch, his feet tucked under his butt like nothing in the world was wrong at that moment. Dave looked back at the drawing. It was him and Kurt…in bed…and in the sexiest of sexual positions, a 69. The expression on Kurt’s face was absolute rapture as he held Dave’s cock in his mouth and the look on Dave’s face…god it was so lifelike…as if Kurt had studied that face…his face, countless times. The way their legs were bent, the way the sheets twisted at their ankles and elbows, there was movement in the picture…it was more like a photograph, a snapshot of some incredible moment between the two of them…not an actual pencil sketch.
The only problem was, he and Kurt had never been in that position before. This wasn’t drawn from memory, it was drawn from desire.
Dave looked back at Kurt. He saw the slight blush and the guilty smile. “You little tease.”
“I’m only a tease if I don’t give in and let you have what you want…”
“And you know what I want…” Dave growled, tossing the sketchbook down and reaching for Kurt’s hand to pull him from the couch.
“That…?” he looked down at the picture.
“God yes.”
“Good…me too,” Kurt answered, walking past Dave and leading him down the hall and into their bedroom.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dave leaned over, reaching for his cell phone where it sat charging on his bedside table. “Figgins,” he said once the number was dialed. “Yeah, sorry, I’m not coming into work today.”
Kurt sniffled quietly where he lay next to Dave, listening to his conversation and feeling horrible.
“Yeah, not feeling well.” … “No, I’ll be in tomorrow, I’m sure it’s just a 24hr thing.” … “Yeah, I’ll email that to you later this afternoon. Alright, bye.”
Kurt closed his eyes, feeling bad that Dave called in sick to work for him. But once Dave was holding him again, with his strong arms wrapped around him, protecting him…he felt better. There was another sudden crack of thunder and Kurt flinched.
“It’s ok, sweetheart, I’m still here.”
Kurt sighed, snuggling into Dave’s body. “Are you really gonna stay in bed with me all day?”
“If you want me to, yeah.” Dave pulled back slightly, meeting Kurt’s eyes in the early morning light. “I’m here, I love you. I’ll stay just like this, holding you through the thunderstorm for as long as it lasts.”
Another thunderclap and Kurt flinched again but not as badly. “Thank you,” he whispered.
There was a knock on the door. “Come in, San,” Dave hollered over Kurt’s shoulder.
She opened the door cautiously. “Breakfast is done. It’s actually cold. What’s goin on?”
“Hey, thanks. Would you mind bringing it in here? We’re gonna stay in bed until the storm ends.”
Kurt buried his face in Dave’s chest, embarrassed by his straightforward and relaxed tone. Kurt couldn’t believe Dave was doing this all because of his fear of storms. But he loved him so much at that moment.
Santana brought in a large tray holding all the breakfast items that she’d cooked. Dave invited her up onto the bed and they sat around eating together and talking, Kurt still staying very close to Dave’s body and looking every now and then towards the window and the wind as it howled outside. He felt better. He tried to tell himself it was the fact that it was daytime and daytime storms just weren’t as bad as nighttime storms. But he knew better. It was all because of Dave. He felt protected and safe just being near him. He reached with his fork across the bed and stabbed at a turkey sausage, sitting back and taking a bite from the end.
“Stop that right now,” Dave mumbled, leaning over and stage-whispering into his hair, “or Santana will have to leave.”
Kurt chuckled, realizing the sexual innuendo of the sausage. “Oh come on, Dave,” he said as he held up the remaining three-fourths of the sausage link on the end of his fork, smiling wickedly. “I would never insult you like that.”
Deleted Scene #1 ~*~*~
The sushi restaurant that they’d stumbled across was perfect. Phoenix was amazing and Kurt was really enjoying seeing a part of the country he never knew existed. Dave was enjoying himself as well, seeing Kurt in a different setting, away from the loft and the kitchen and the chores. He tried to keep his mind on the fun they were having…and off of the fact that his desire for Kurt was threatening to eat him alive. They walked down the street, talking and laughing when they came back around to the fashion mall entrance and the advertisement for the current movies playing in the theatre on the top level.
“Even seen a real movie, Kurt?”
Kurt shot him a puzzled look. “Are you trying to tell me all the moves I’ve seen up until now have been fake?”
Dave laughed at Kurt’s joke. “No. I mean a real movie in a real movie theatre. You know, ‘the big screen.’” Dave used air quotes as he smiled back at Kurt’s questioning look.
Kurt shook his head. “No, I have not seen the ‘big screen,’ Dave,” Kurt answered, using air quotes himself.
“Well, then…let’s go.” They entered the mall and found the theatre on the top level, purchasing their tickets and finding their seats.
Kurt’s eyes were huge. The screen was indeed immense and there were so many seats. He’d never seen anything like it. They were still stuffed from the sushi but Dave bought popcorn and a soda anyway, telling Kurt he had no choice but to educate him by providing the full theatre experience. He quieted his sudden internal dialogue, telling him that the ‘full theatre experience’ could conceivably include a hand job or two as well. He was glad the darkened lighting hid his blush.
The movie was great. It was a blockbuster comedy with equal parts raunchy and slapstick. Dave laughed his ass off, watching Kurt’s expression at times to make sure he liked it. He had to explain some scenes, whispering quietly what parts Kurt wasn’t able to follow. But as they left the theatre and headed back to their hotel, Kurt admitted the movie, the shopping, dinner…the whole night out with Dave was one of the best he’d ever had.
Dave’s hand itched again to hold Kurt’s. His lips parted and his mouth watered whenever his eyes landed on those soft pink lips. He wanted Kurt so badly and yet he couldn’t make a move. They would go back to their room again, get dressed for bed and sleep. Alone but together, torturously close sharing a room. With Dave most likely suffering from an all-night semi on top of it.
Dave promised himself, as he watched Kurt walk across the room and climb into his bed, as he reached over and turned off the light…that there would be many, many more dates to come…better than this, ending much differently than this.