Fic: The Only Answer (1/1)
Title: The Only Answer
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: NC-17. Like, for serious, NC-17. No joke.
Spoilers: Absolutely none, unless you don't know who these characters are - and if you don't, why are you reading? :)
Summary: A deep, engaging look at an important subject - ah, hell, no it isn't. It's porn. So, so porn. Inspired by a couple of prompts at RQ_Meme I can't find right now.
Warnings: BDSM, Anal, Spanking, tiny mention of het sex
There were a lot of things that Quinn Fabray would have expected to see when she opened her front door that afternoon. But her girlfriend kneeling on the mat inside the door, dressed in an old Cheerios uniform, wasn’t one of them. And if that wasn’t enough of a surprise in itself, there were the...accessories she sported. As Quinn quickly closed the door behind her, mindful that they did, after all, have neighbours, she took a quick inventory. Rachel was blindfolded and gagged with a thick red ball, and the straps of both had small brass padlocks keeping them from being removed. She wore a large leather posture collar that kept her head up and staring blindly ahead, and attached to that was a jewelled leash that snaked across the mat toward Quinn’s feet. Her hands, Quinn noted as she walked slowly around her, were secured behind her with shiny metallic handcuffs. Her ankles were bound together with something Quinn couldn’t identify, effectively hobbling her. It was only after her mind, which had almost completely shut down at the surprise, came slowly back to life that she noticed the small envelope attached to the end of the leash - it read, in Rachel’s precise handwriting, Mistress.
Hands shaking, Quinn tore the envelope open ferociously and began to read.
Mistress,
While using your laptop to check my email a few weeks ago, I noticed that you’d left another tab open in your browser. I was naturally curious, and couldn’t resist taking a look at what you were perusing.
Quinn shook her head - only Rachel, in these circumstances, would use the word ‘perusing.’
I found that it was a pornographic site. I must confess, I was surprised - I had no idea that you looked at porn. But I was even more surprised to discover the nature of the pornography. It was a bdsm site, filled with pictures of women willingly submitting to other women. I was a bit taken aback. All of our lovemaking has been vanilla - which is not to say bad, so please don’t take it that way. I was hurt, honestly, that if this was a fantasy of yours - which, after a brief examination of your browser history, it clearly is - that you’d never asked me to help you fulfill it. I tried to subtly work the topic into conversation, but apparently I was too subtle - a failing I’m not often accused of. And so, I decided that I needed to take the matter into my own hands, as it were. And thus, here we are.
Based on the sites I found in your history, I’ve gathered what I believe is an appropriate selection of implements - they’re laid out for you in the bedroom. Also, in accordance with recommendations on one of the sites, I would like to propose the following rules for this scene:
1. Nothing will be done that will leave permanent marks, or marks in easily visible areas.
2. My safeword, if not gagged, will be “Banana.” If gagged, I will hum the tune of “Mary has a little lamb.”
3. I will not orgasm without your permission, and if I do so then I will expect to be punished accordingly.
4. I will refer to you, if permitted to speak, only as Mistress. I, in turn, will expect to be addressed by whatever name you deem appropriate.
5. Unless my safeword is used, I will be expected to follow your commands without question.
I sincerely hope that I’ve provided everything you need to satisfy your fantasy. I love you.
Rachel
P.S. The keys to everything I have on are in an envelope in your nightstand.
“Rachel,” Quinn whispered, torn between wanting to cry over the love behind the gesture and the incredible arousal she felt ungluing her. She knelt beside the kneeling girl and brushed her hair back to whisper in her ear. “God, I love you so much. You amaze me - every single day, you just,” she sighed. “I love you.” She cleared her throat. “I’m only going to ask this once, okay? Are you sure about this?”
Rachel nodded - or she would have, if the posture collar would have let her. Quinn got the gist all the same.
“Well, then,” Quinn stood and took Rachel’s leash in her hand, giving it a sharp tug. “Get up, slave.”
Rachel hurried to comply, but she’d obviously been kneeling there for some time, and it was an effort to stand. Quinn circled around her and slapped her ass, hard. Rachel jerked, grunting into her gag. “I gave you a command. I expect you to be quicker than that in the future, or face punishment. Clear?” Rachel’s head bobbed, and she mumbled unintelligibly into her gag. “Good. Now, follow me.” She headed for the bedroom, never releasing the leash. Rachel’s bound ankles meant that she couldn’t walk, but only make short hops. Quinn went more slowly than she would have otherwise, wanting to make sure that she didn’t fall over. When they reached the bedroom, Rachel was breathing heavily through her nose from the exertion.
Quinn, taking pity on her, found the envelope of keys - all of them labelled - and unlocked the ball gag, easing it out of her mouth. The small trail of drool that followed it out was unspeakably sexy, and Quinn shuddered. “Thank you, mistress,” Rachel whispered.
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak. Do I need to put that gag back in?”
Rachel obviously wanted to answer, but restrained herself, and Quinn grinned. “Much better. Of course, you’re going to have to be punished for that.” She led her to the bed, knotting her leash tightly to one of the bedposts. This had the very wonderful side effect of leaving her bent over the bed, her ass sticking out, and Quinn admired the view for a moment before looking away to apprise all that had been thoughtfully left out for her. First on the table was an impossibly short PVC dress that she assumed was meant for her. She shimmied out of her clothes, shivering as the cool air reached her rock-hard nipples and the wetness between her legs, and wriggled into the dress. The rest of the implements were like a wish list of all the things she’d always wanted to try, and she grabbed a black leather flogger with an impish grin.
“Now, there’s the matter of your punishment. You were slow getting to your feet when instructed, and you spoke without permission. What do you think would be an appropriate number of strokes for your mistakes? You can answer that.”
“Whatever mistress deems appropriate.” Quinn flipped up the skirt of Rachel’s Cheerios outfit and pulled down the tiny panties she wore underneath, leaving them gathered around her bound ankles.
“That’s not an answer,” she warned, and smacked Rachel’s ass with the flogger - not hard, but enough to make her jump. “I expect an answer.”
“Ten strokes, mistress?” Rachel said hesitantly.
“Hmm - interesting,” Quinn walked back and forth behind her, letting the leather drag across Rachel’s bare skin. “Is that what you would deem an appropriate punishment?”
“Twenty, mistress?”
“Yes, I think that’s a much better answer. Now, I want you to count each stroke out loud, and thank me for each. Do you understand me, slave?”
“Yes, mistress.”
The first was hard - hard enough to leave a bright red mark - and Rachel gasped. “One, thank you mistress.” Quinn staggered the rest, drawing them out, and by the time Rachel had cried out “twenty, thank you mistress,” her ass was glowing a warm red. Quinn tossed the flogger aside and trailed a finger through Rachel’s folds, finding them dripping with her need. Rachel gasped. “Such a horny little slave,” Quinn whispered in her ear. “So wet already. Whose pussy is that, slave?”
“Yours, mistress - it’s yours,” Rachel whimpered.
“And I suppose that pussy wants relief, doesn’t it?”
“Only if mistress wants,” Rachel’s words came out in a rush.
“Well, mistress...” Quinn dragged her nails across Rachel’s ass, “doesn’t want. You’re going to have to earn relief.” She untied the leash from the bedpost and turned Rachel around, pushing her down on the bed. She whimpered as the handcuffs tightened and bit into her wrists, and Quinn was there in an instant with the keys. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered. “Are you okay?” Rachel nodded. “Did you get anything we can use instead of these things?”
“There’re some Velcro cuffs on the table,” Rachel advised her, and Quinn grabbed them, pushing her back on the bed and cuffing her hands above her head.
“Those hands don’t move,” Quinn warned. “Not if you know what’s good for you.” She undid the zipper on the side of the uniform top and pushed it up, exposing Rachel’s breasts. Her nipples were hard, and Quinn teased them between her fingers, alternating squeezes and pinches, leaving her breathless. If Quinn was honest with herself - which she was - she had to admit that Rachel’s breasts were her favourite of the other girl’s features. They were perfectly-sized, with gorgeous dusky nipples, and she could happily stare at them all day long. But for the moment, she had other ideas. She searched the table for something appropriate, and grinned at Rachel’s preparedness. The chain between the clamps jingled as she attached the first one to her right nipple, and she groaned loudly as it bit into her. “Too much, babe?” Rachel remained stubbornly silent. “No, seriously - is it too much?”
“Oh - I’m sorry, Quinn. It’s okay, really, it’s just-“
“Just what?”
Rachel gasped, her chest heaving. “It’s an incredible turn-on. I had no idea how much I would enjoy this.”
Quinn grinned, attaching the other clamp. Rachel bucked, crying out, and Quinn smirked. “Did you just come?”
“I - yes, mistress. I’m sorry, mistress.”
“Well, obviously I haven’t punished you nearly enough. Sit up,” she pulled on the leash, and Rachel complied. Quinn unbuckled her collar and pushed her back down. “There. Now you can do what a good slave does.” She clambered onto the bed, facing Rachel’s feet, and settled herself on her face. Rachel quickly took the hint and went to work on her pussy with her tongue. Quinn wriggled, feeling the warm tongue dive between her folds, and circle her hard clit repeatedly, until she came with a loud cry, jerking the chain of Rachel’s nipple clamps in the process, feeling the other girl cry out into her sex. She climbed off, lying down beside her and admiring the sight of her own juices on her face.
“Well,” Quinn traced her finger around the biting teeth of one of the clamps, admiring the squeal Rachel let out. “That was very good, slave. I wonder, though, what should we play with next? First, I think I’ll let those ankles go, in case I need to spread those legs at some point.” She did, frowning a bit at the red marks left by the strap of leather that had secured them. She tossed it aside, running her hands up and down the now-bare legs, stopping just shy of the contact Rachel desperately needed. She looked at the things Rachel had collected for her, and her eyes settled on one thing. She took Rachel’s bound hands and put them on her dripping sex before standing. She leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“I want you to play with yourself, slave,” she said, her voice husky. “Don’t stop until you’re told, but don’t you dare come. Do you understand?”
Rachel nodded, swallowing hard. Quinn grabbed the black strap-on from the table and began to slowly attach the harness, watching her blindfolded girlfriends hand work at her sopping sex - slipping two, then three fingers inside, rubbing at her clit with her thumb, gasping as the chain between her clamps slid across her chest, trembling as she tried to continue the motions without letting herself tumble over the edge of orgasm. Quinn buckled the last strap and said, with some relish, “stop.” Rachel’s hand continued to move, and Quinn slapped her across the breast with the leather flogger. “I said stop.” Rachel did, her hands returning to their position above her head like they’d been pulled by a string. “Now get up. Kneel beside the bed, facing me.”
Rachel did, and Quinn guided the black dildo to Rachel’s face, tracing it across her cheeks, making her shudder. Then, with a commanding “suck on my cock, slave,” she slipped it into her mouth. Rachel, Quinn knew well, had only given one blow job in her life, and she’d hated the experience with a passion. But she went to work on the small strap-on, taking it deeply into her throat with little effort. Quinn stared down at her, wide-eyed and breathless, trying to keep from coming on the spot. She let her work on it for two or three minutes, enjoying the view, and then grabbed a fistful of dark hair and pulled her off. “Enough,” she insisted. “Stand up,” she gave the hair a sharp pull, and Rachel complied instantly. “Now turn around and bend over the bed.” She did, and Quinn reached for a bottle of lube, making sure the phallus was shiny and glistening before she went any further. She pushed the head of it against Rachel’s rear passage, and she inhaled sharply. They’d played at anal sex before this, but this would be the first time for either of them to actually fuck the other that way.
“If you want to safeword, Rach, don’t feel like you can’t. I thought it would be fun, but I don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt you. Okay?”
Rachel nodded. “Yes, mistress.” She didn’t safeword, though, and so Quinn pushed gently forward. Rachel groaned as the dildo was worked slowly inside her, slapping her cuffed hands on the bed. Quinn stopped.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m trying not to come, mistress.”
Quinn shook her head. “During this, slave, you can come as often as you want - don’t wait for my permission.” She pushed forward again, and Rachel screamed hoarsely.
“Quinn! OH, oh, oh, oh,” with the strap-on worked all the way inside her, Quinn began to thrust slowly back and forth, and Rachel’s exhalations stopped being coherent words and became a constant string of soft grunts. The base of the harness was rubbing Quinn in exactly the right spot, and as she watched Rachel thrust back toward her, the chain between her breasts jingling as she cried out softly, her orgasm hit her like a tonne of bricks. The world seemed to dim around her until all that was left in it was the sight of her girlfriend, dripping with sweat, and the sound of her cries mixed with Quinn’s own. When she came back to herself, she patted Rachel’s ass with one hand. “Stop,” she whispered, “Rach, stop.” Rachel’s almost unconscious thrusts ceased, and Quinn eased the dildo out of her before unbuckling the harness and dropping it on the carpet of the bedroom floor.
She turned her around wordlessly and sat her on the bed, retrieving the final key and removing the black blindfold from her eyes. Rachel blinked at the sudden light, and Quinn traced the tear tracks under her eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked, suddenly worried.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Rachel shook her head, sniffling. “I just love you so much that it hurts.”
Quinn couldn’t answer, and she began to cry in earnest. They embraced each other - interrupted by one awkward moment when they came together and Rachel hissed with pain as the nipple clamps were trapped between them before Quinn removed them and threw them aside - and lay together on the bed for hours, exchanging the smallest of touches and the most raw, the most bare, of smiles. It was Rachel who spoke first.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to try everything I laid out for you,” Rachel bit her lip. “There was one thing I really wanted you to see.”
“What’s that?” Quinn asked.
“It’s in the black bag on the end.” Quinn reached over her and snagged it with one hand. She pulled out a box covered in soft black velvet, and regarded it curiously.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and see.”
Quinn opened the box, and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Nestled inside was a ring - the small diamond that adorned it was more than they could afford, she thought while she could still think. And then Rachel took it from her and got up, sinking down to one knee, and there weren’t any more thoughts. There was only a word - one word. The only possible word.
“Yes.”
They came together fiercely, and as her heart pounded in her ears, she heard Rachel whisper “next time, I get to be the mistress.”
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: NC-17. Like, for serious, NC-17. No joke.
Spoilers: Absolutely none, unless you don't know who these characters are - and if you don't, why are you reading? :)
Summary: A deep, engaging look at an important subject - ah, hell, no it isn't. It's porn. So, so porn. Inspired by a couple of prompts at RQ_Meme I can't find right now.
Warnings: BDSM, Anal, Spanking, tiny mention of het sex
There were a lot of things that Quinn Fabray would have expected to see when she opened her front door that afternoon. But her girlfriend kneeling on the mat inside the door, dressed in an old Cheerios uniform, wasn’t one of them. And if that wasn’t enough of a surprise in itself, there were the...accessories she sported. As Quinn quickly closed the door behind her, mindful that they did, after all, have neighbours, she took a quick inventory. Rachel was blindfolded and gagged with a thick red ball, and the straps of both had small brass padlocks keeping them from being removed. She wore a large leather posture collar that kept her head up and staring blindly ahead, and attached to that was a jewelled leash that snaked across the mat toward Quinn’s feet. Her hands, Quinn noted as she walked slowly around her, were secured behind her with shiny metallic handcuffs. Her ankles were bound together with something Quinn couldn’t identify, effectively hobbling her. It was only after her mind, which had almost completely shut down at the surprise, came slowly back to life that she noticed the small envelope attached to the end of the leash - it read, in Rachel’s precise handwriting, Mistress.
Hands shaking, Quinn tore the envelope open ferociously and began to read.
Mistress,
While using your laptop to check my email a few weeks ago, I noticed that you’d left another tab open in your browser. I was naturally curious, and couldn’t resist taking a look at what you were perusing.
Quinn shook her head - only Rachel, in these circumstances, would use the word ‘perusing.’
I found that it was a pornographic site. I must confess, I was surprised - I had no idea that you looked at porn. But I was even more surprised to discover the nature of the pornography. It was a bdsm site, filled with pictures of women willingly submitting to other women. I was a bit taken aback. All of our lovemaking has been vanilla - which is not to say bad, so please don’t take it that way. I was hurt, honestly, that if this was a fantasy of yours - which, after a brief examination of your browser history, it clearly is - that you’d never asked me to help you fulfill it. I tried to subtly work the topic into conversation, but apparently I was too subtle - a failing I’m not often accused of. And so, I decided that I needed to take the matter into my own hands, as it were. And thus, here we are.
Based on the sites I found in your history, I’ve gathered what I believe is an appropriate selection of implements - they’re laid out for you in the bedroom. Also, in accordance with recommendations on one of the sites, I would like to propose the following rules for this scene:
1. Nothing will be done that will leave permanent marks, or marks in easily visible areas.
2. My safeword, if not gagged, will be “Banana.” If gagged, I will hum the tune of “Mary has a little lamb.”
3. I will not orgasm without your permission, and if I do so then I will expect to be punished accordingly.
4. I will refer to you, if permitted to speak, only as Mistress. I, in turn, will expect to be addressed by whatever name you deem appropriate.
5. Unless my safeword is used, I will be expected to follow your commands without question.
I sincerely hope that I’ve provided everything you need to satisfy your fantasy. I love you.
Rachel
P.S. The keys to everything I have on are in an envelope in your nightstand.
“Rachel,” Quinn whispered, torn between wanting to cry over the love behind the gesture and the incredible arousal she felt ungluing her. She knelt beside the kneeling girl and brushed her hair back to whisper in her ear. “God, I love you so much. You amaze me - every single day, you just,” she sighed. “I love you.” She cleared her throat. “I’m only going to ask this once, okay? Are you sure about this?”
Rachel nodded - or she would have, if the posture collar would have let her. Quinn got the gist all the same.
“Well, then,” Quinn stood and took Rachel’s leash in her hand, giving it a sharp tug. “Get up, slave.”
Rachel hurried to comply, but she’d obviously been kneeling there for some time, and it was an effort to stand. Quinn circled around her and slapped her ass, hard. Rachel jerked, grunting into her gag. “I gave you a command. I expect you to be quicker than that in the future, or face punishment. Clear?” Rachel’s head bobbed, and she mumbled unintelligibly into her gag. “Good. Now, follow me.” She headed for the bedroom, never releasing the leash. Rachel’s bound ankles meant that she couldn’t walk, but only make short hops. Quinn went more slowly than she would have otherwise, wanting to make sure that she didn’t fall over. When they reached the bedroom, Rachel was breathing heavily through her nose from the exertion.
Quinn, taking pity on her, found the envelope of keys - all of them labelled - and unlocked the ball gag, easing it out of her mouth. The small trail of drool that followed it out was unspeakably sexy, and Quinn shuddered. “Thank you, mistress,” Rachel whispered.
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak. Do I need to put that gag back in?”
Rachel obviously wanted to answer, but restrained herself, and Quinn grinned. “Much better. Of course, you’re going to have to be punished for that.” She led her to the bed, knotting her leash tightly to one of the bedposts. This had the very wonderful side effect of leaving her bent over the bed, her ass sticking out, and Quinn admired the view for a moment before looking away to apprise all that had been thoughtfully left out for her. First on the table was an impossibly short PVC dress that she assumed was meant for her. She shimmied out of her clothes, shivering as the cool air reached her rock-hard nipples and the wetness between her legs, and wriggled into the dress. The rest of the implements were like a wish list of all the things she’d always wanted to try, and she grabbed a black leather flogger with an impish grin.
“Now, there’s the matter of your punishment. You were slow getting to your feet when instructed, and you spoke without permission. What do you think would be an appropriate number of strokes for your mistakes? You can answer that.”
“Whatever mistress deems appropriate.” Quinn flipped up the skirt of Rachel’s Cheerios outfit and pulled down the tiny panties she wore underneath, leaving them gathered around her bound ankles.
“That’s not an answer,” she warned, and smacked Rachel’s ass with the flogger - not hard, but enough to make her jump. “I expect an answer.”
“Ten strokes, mistress?” Rachel said hesitantly.
“Hmm - interesting,” Quinn walked back and forth behind her, letting the leather drag across Rachel’s bare skin. “Is that what you would deem an appropriate punishment?”
“Twenty, mistress?”
“Yes, I think that’s a much better answer. Now, I want you to count each stroke out loud, and thank me for each. Do you understand me, slave?”
“Yes, mistress.”
The first was hard - hard enough to leave a bright red mark - and Rachel gasped. “One, thank you mistress.” Quinn staggered the rest, drawing them out, and by the time Rachel had cried out “twenty, thank you mistress,” her ass was glowing a warm red. Quinn tossed the flogger aside and trailed a finger through Rachel’s folds, finding them dripping with her need. Rachel gasped. “Such a horny little slave,” Quinn whispered in her ear. “So wet already. Whose pussy is that, slave?”
“Yours, mistress - it’s yours,” Rachel whimpered.
“And I suppose that pussy wants relief, doesn’t it?”
“Only if mistress wants,” Rachel’s words came out in a rush.
“Well, mistress...” Quinn dragged her nails across Rachel’s ass, “doesn’t want. You’re going to have to earn relief.” She untied the leash from the bedpost and turned Rachel around, pushing her down on the bed. She whimpered as the handcuffs tightened and bit into her wrists, and Quinn was there in an instant with the keys. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered. “Are you okay?” Rachel nodded. “Did you get anything we can use instead of these things?”
“There’re some Velcro cuffs on the table,” Rachel advised her, and Quinn grabbed them, pushing her back on the bed and cuffing her hands above her head.
“Those hands don’t move,” Quinn warned. “Not if you know what’s good for you.” She undid the zipper on the side of the uniform top and pushed it up, exposing Rachel’s breasts. Her nipples were hard, and Quinn teased them between her fingers, alternating squeezes and pinches, leaving her breathless. If Quinn was honest with herself - which she was - she had to admit that Rachel’s breasts were her favourite of the other girl’s features. They were perfectly-sized, with gorgeous dusky nipples, and she could happily stare at them all day long. But for the moment, she had other ideas. She searched the table for something appropriate, and grinned at Rachel’s preparedness. The chain between the clamps jingled as she attached the first one to her right nipple, and she groaned loudly as it bit into her. “Too much, babe?” Rachel remained stubbornly silent. “No, seriously - is it too much?”
“Oh - I’m sorry, Quinn. It’s okay, really, it’s just-“
“Just what?”
Rachel gasped, her chest heaving. “It’s an incredible turn-on. I had no idea how much I would enjoy this.”
Quinn grinned, attaching the other clamp. Rachel bucked, crying out, and Quinn smirked. “Did you just come?”
“I - yes, mistress. I’m sorry, mistress.”
“Well, obviously I haven’t punished you nearly enough. Sit up,” she pulled on the leash, and Rachel complied. Quinn unbuckled her collar and pushed her back down. “There. Now you can do what a good slave does.” She clambered onto the bed, facing Rachel’s feet, and settled herself on her face. Rachel quickly took the hint and went to work on her pussy with her tongue. Quinn wriggled, feeling the warm tongue dive between her folds, and circle her hard clit repeatedly, until she came with a loud cry, jerking the chain of Rachel’s nipple clamps in the process, feeling the other girl cry out into her sex. She climbed off, lying down beside her and admiring the sight of her own juices on her face.
“Well,” Quinn traced her finger around the biting teeth of one of the clamps, admiring the squeal Rachel let out. “That was very good, slave. I wonder, though, what should we play with next? First, I think I’ll let those ankles go, in case I need to spread those legs at some point.” She did, frowning a bit at the red marks left by the strap of leather that had secured them. She tossed it aside, running her hands up and down the now-bare legs, stopping just shy of the contact Rachel desperately needed. She looked at the things Rachel had collected for her, and her eyes settled on one thing. She took Rachel’s bound hands and put them on her dripping sex before standing. She leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“I want you to play with yourself, slave,” she said, her voice husky. “Don’t stop until you’re told, but don’t you dare come. Do you understand?”
Rachel nodded, swallowing hard. Quinn grabbed the black strap-on from the table and began to slowly attach the harness, watching her blindfolded girlfriends hand work at her sopping sex - slipping two, then three fingers inside, rubbing at her clit with her thumb, gasping as the chain between her clamps slid across her chest, trembling as she tried to continue the motions without letting herself tumble over the edge of orgasm. Quinn buckled the last strap and said, with some relish, “stop.” Rachel’s hand continued to move, and Quinn slapped her across the breast with the leather flogger. “I said stop.” Rachel did, her hands returning to their position above her head like they’d been pulled by a string. “Now get up. Kneel beside the bed, facing me.”
Rachel did, and Quinn guided the black dildo to Rachel’s face, tracing it across her cheeks, making her shudder. Then, with a commanding “suck on my cock, slave,” she slipped it into her mouth. Rachel, Quinn knew well, had only given one blow job in her life, and she’d hated the experience with a passion. But she went to work on the small strap-on, taking it deeply into her throat with little effort. Quinn stared down at her, wide-eyed and breathless, trying to keep from coming on the spot. She let her work on it for two or three minutes, enjoying the view, and then grabbed a fistful of dark hair and pulled her off. “Enough,” she insisted. “Stand up,” she gave the hair a sharp pull, and Rachel complied instantly. “Now turn around and bend over the bed.” She did, and Quinn reached for a bottle of lube, making sure the phallus was shiny and glistening before she went any further. She pushed the head of it against Rachel’s rear passage, and she inhaled sharply. They’d played at anal sex before this, but this would be the first time for either of them to actually fuck the other that way.
“If you want to safeword, Rach, don’t feel like you can’t. I thought it would be fun, but I don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt you. Okay?”
Rachel nodded. “Yes, mistress.” She didn’t safeword, though, and so Quinn pushed gently forward. Rachel groaned as the dildo was worked slowly inside her, slapping her cuffed hands on the bed. Quinn stopped.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m trying not to come, mistress.”
Quinn shook her head. “During this, slave, you can come as often as you want - don’t wait for my permission.” She pushed forward again, and Rachel screamed hoarsely.
“Quinn! OH, oh, oh, oh,” with the strap-on worked all the way inside her, Quinn began to thrust slowly back and forth, and Rachel’s exhalations stopped being coherent words and became a constant string of soft grunts. The base of the harness was rubbing Quinn in exactly the right spot, and as she watched Rachel thrust back toward her, the chain between her breasts jingling as she cried out softly, her orgasm hit her like a tonne of bricks. The world seemed to dim around her until all that was left in it was the sight of her girlfriend, dripping with sweat, and the sound of her cries mixed with Quinn’s own. When she came back to herself, she patted Rachel’s ass with one hand. “Stop,” she whispered, “Rach, stop.” Rachel’s almost unconscious thrusts ceased, and Quinn eased the dildo out of her before unbuckling the harness and dropping it on the carpet of the bedroom floor.
She turned her around wordlessly and sat her on the bed, retrieving the final key and removing the black blindfold from her eyes. Rachel blinked at the sudden light, and Quinn traced the tear tracks under her eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked, suddenly worried.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Rachel shook her head, sniffling. “I just love you so much that it hurts.”
Quinn couldn’t answer, and she began to cry in earnest. They embraced each other - interrupted by one awkward moment when they came together and Rachel hissed with pain as the nipple clamps were trapped between them before Quinn removed them and threw them aside - and lay together on the bed for hours, exchanging the smallest of touches and the most raw, the most bare, of smiles. It was Rachel who spoke first.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to try everything I laid out for you,” Rachel bit her lip. “There was one thing I really wanted you to see.”
“What’s that?” Quinn asked.
“It’s in the black bag on the end.” Quinn reached over her and snagged it with one hand. She pulled out a box covered in soft black velvet, and regarded it curiously.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and see.”
Quinn opened the box, and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Nestled inside was a ring - the small diamond that adorned it was more than they could afford, she thought while she could still think. And then Rachel took it from her and got up, sinking down to one knee, and there weren’t any more thoughts. There was only a word - one word. The only possible word.
“Yes.”
They came together fiercely, and as her heart pounded in her ears, she heard Rachel whisper “next time, I get to be the mistress.”