fic: the safeword is pompom (elle/claire)
Title: The Safeword is Pompom
Rating: NC-17 (sexuality, language, spanking, role playing, hints of D/s)
Pairing: Elle/Claire
Prompt: "uniform" at 7snogs
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. Clearly.
Timeline: Takes place in my Something Blue universe.
Notes: Blatant and shameless PWP because I just had to that ended up becoming over 3900 words despite my attempts not to let it; inspiration for the title goes to splendid_it!
Dedication: To paynesgrey, who squeed with me and inspired me to finish when I would have thrown in the towel. You are so totally one of my bbs, my bb!
Teaser: Elle Bishop is a bad birthday girl and Claire tries to give Elle her birthday gift. Which is the whole point of being a bad birthday girl. Yes, it's really that straightforward.
Elle Bishop was twenty-nine years old.
Claire could not spank a twenty-nine year old.
After years of insanity, the idea of it should not have felt so insane.
But it did.
Because perched on the bed like a prim schoolgirl, Elle was staring back at her with wide eyes and an excited grin, fingers tight around the hem of the skirt she was wearing, looking like she was ten seconds away from jumping out of her skin in anticipation. They’d fiddled with the uniform so that it would fit her better, so that it would look good.
It did, admittedly.
But it was just a further weird aspect of this entire thing because Elle wanted to do this in… her uniform.
Claire thought about the dialogue given to her and exhaled unhappily, closing her eyes in frustration.
When she opened them again, Elle was still sitting there, looking even more excited.
Maybe if she ran for it-
“Okay,” Elle announced brightly, “I’m ready.”
And she bounced excitedly on the bed.
She looked like she was about to go to Disney World or something.
“Okay, bend over.”
She got a dirty look in response, Elle’s shoulders stiffening in annoyance. “I told you what to say,” she huffed and Claire closed her eyes in frustration, annoyingly aware of the flush that ignited up her neck. “You said you’d do it!”
“You’re a grown woman. I- I can’t spank a grown woman, Elle.”
“But I’ve been bad-”
“Oh, god, stop,” Claire blurted helplessly, flinging her hand up to stop the words, trying to block them out.
Scowling, Elle bounced to her feet and snatched the papers from Claire’s hand, waving them in the younger woman’s face furiously. “I wrote it all down for you, you just have to follow the instructions and say the words-”
“You’re not a toaster oven, Elle.”
“You said you would do whatever I wanted!”
“I thought you meant handcuffs or something,” Claire sputtered, face burning at the sight of Elle in her own modified uniform, hair loose around her face and face stony with a hint of a brewing tantrum. “That was fun, I thought-”
“You promised,” Elle told her flatly, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into a full-on pout.
But her tone made Claire Bennet sigh weakly, eyes closing in an attempt to stop feeling like an idiot.
It was a basic fact that promises meant something to both of them, and they took their promises to each other seriously- they never made one unless they were ready to follow through no matter what, and they did whatever they had to do in order to keep one after one of them made said promise.
So Elle’s furious little tone caused a spike of guilt, made her rub her forehead furiously.
“What if I hurt you?”
“That’s what I want-”
“No, I mean…” Oh, god, she couldn’t say it out loud. “…what if I… spank you too hard?”
Oh, god, she’d said it out loud.
“I told you, if I want you to stop, I’ll just say ‘pompom’,” she reminded the former cheerleader cheerfully, thumping the papers happily. Turning away, she gestured around at the bedroom, looking like a porno version of those women on game shows who made the overdone hand motions at the prizes. “Now how do you want me?”
“I can’t just start… doing it,” Claire protested, unable to voice the words.
“You’re not, we’re going to get you all excited so you can get into it but we need to figure out how.” She glanced at a chair, chewed her lip thoughtfully before shaking her head and instead flipping her fingers to point at the desk against the wall. “You can bend me over that if you want to do it that way but not with the chair, it would probably tip over knowing our luck.”
Claire closed her eyes at the reminder of some of their disasters, grimaced at the images that popped into her head.
It turned out that an accidental electrical fire was the least of what they could do when they got too excited.
“Or do you want to put me over your knee?”
“I’m not putting you over my knee,” Claire told her firmly and Elle must have seen the severity of her refusal because she smiled reassuringly and waved her hands to dispel the sudden tenseness of the room, shrugged carelessly.
“Maybe I should just…” She stepped close, turned and bent at the waist, “Try something like this.”
“You’ll fall on your face.”
“Then I’ll stand against the wall!” Elle snapped as she straightened and spun around to face her, clearly getting frustrated over Claire’s lack of suggestions in regards to how they would carry it all out when they got to that point. “Come on, you’re the one that’s going to be doing the spanking-” Claire cringed helplessly. “-so help me out here.”
“I want to do the bed,” Claire blurted desperately in an attempt to stop what she knew was going to become a whine.
Nodding, worst of the annoyance leaving her face, Elle brushed past her to bend over the bed, shifting a few times before glancing back at Claire. “Like this?” she questioned and got a helpless little shrug in response. “How about this?” she prodded determinedly, spreading her legs a bit more. “Well?”
“This is weird.”
“Claire!”
There was a definite whine there.
“It’s fucking weird,” Claire insisted, setting the papers on the corner of the bed and grabbing her girlfriend, straightening her up and looking her over. She wasn’t wearing anything under the uniform and if Claire flipped the skirt up, there was just skin, the strip of cloth having been cut out earlier in preparation for this insanity.
Elle looked hot in it, she did.
But it was still weird, and when she thought about the little script Elle had created, it was even weirder.
“I can’t do this-” Elle opened her mouth to protest and Claire slapped her hand across it, shaking her head furiously. “I think I can do the… the…” She stopped, took a deep breath. “The spanking,” she finally forced out, “but you cannot call me daddy.” She felt Elle open her mouth again, and pressed her hand harder to shut her up. “No.”
Big blue eyes stared at her silently, the gears in Elle’s head clearly working, and Claire dropped her hand, waiting.
Finally- “It has nothing to do with anything…”
“You’re dressed up in my uniform and wanting to call me daddy while I spank you and call you a bad girl.”
“But you know your dad gets me hot, you said you were okay with that-”
“Yes,” Claire sighed, remembering that bizarre confession when they had first started their strange little relationship years before, “but this is different and you cannot call me daddy.” Elle still looked ready to protest more and she added quickly, meaning it more than she wanted to admit, “Maybe in the future but I do not have enough mental bleach for that right now.”
There was a tense beat of silence before Elle sighed, rolling her eyes up in exasperation. “Okay, god!”
“You promise?”
“Yes,” Elle grumbled, her real annoyance a sign that she meant it.
Satisfied that the worst of the trauma wouldn’t be taking place, she glanced between her girlfriend and the bed, trying to picture the way that would least freak her out in the middle of the whole ordeal. Finally, she just pointed in a helpless little order, watching as Elle dropped onto the bed and then paused on her knees, obviously awaiting further instructions.
“I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Just pretend we’re going to have sex.”
“But we’re not going to have sex-”
“We will when I get off,” Elle reminded her in exasperation. “Now how do you want me?”
It was sign of her badly she really wanted this to happen the right way for both of them, Claire knew, that Elle hadn’t just snapped and zapped her already to vent her frustrations at Claire’s apprehension. That little epiphany made her grimace, groan quietly, and she gestured again, vaguely. “Just… stretch out,” she finally sighed, watching Elle happily comply.
Picking back up the papers, flipping through them needlessly (she’d memorized the entire embarrassing script over the last two days, the mental images it created searing into her brain), she glanced over Elle’s bubbly little handwriting. Licked her lips in amusement at the places where Elle underlined certain sections of instructions with a blue marker and the few lines of dialogue she’d highlighted as being extremely important to give her what she really wanted.
Dropping the papers back down, she climbed onto the bed, moved up on her hands and knees and pretended that this was just sex, taking in the sight of Elle stretched out between her knees. “I think I’d fewer problems with a Catholic school girl uniform,” she decided after a tense moment, and Elle glanced over her shoulder with a grin, eyebrows lifting playfully.
“I can get one.”
“That was a joke,” Claire sputtered, but Elle has read the interest on Claire’s face the way she did everything else.
“I’ll do that for your birthday,” Elle promised, grinning but completely serious, and Claire couldn’t fight her blush, embarrassingly aware of the fact that the flush got worse when Elle squirmed playfully between her legs. She had no idea how to handle the fact that this was freaking her out but the thought of Elle in a little plaid skirt bent over a school desk had caused an instant liquid heat to ignite low in her belly.
“Let me concentrate,” she scowled when Elle wriggled again, pushing her knees into the bed to pin Elle down.
A little breath escaped the woman under her, and Claire hesitated, considering.
She and Elle had done a lot of things together, they’d had lots of sex and they knew what they liked.
Hell, not just the two of them that one time, there’d been that trip to Adam to Italy with that friend of his…
That had been fun.
Well, bottom line was, they had good sex together and Elle had done all kinds of things for her.
Including the handcuffs experiment when Elle surprisingly, had been the unsure one of the duo (“But what if I get too excited and pull your arms off? And metal conducts electricity!” “Just do it, Jesus!”).
“We’re just having sex,” she told herself as she lowered herself on top of Elle, legs pinning her lower body and hands sliding down Elle’s arms. “We’re just having sex, that’s all.” She rocked a little, feeling the curve of Elle’s ass pressing up against her groin, closing her eyes and focusing on how much skin she could feel despite the uniform. “Just sex,” she stated, and followed the lines of Elle’s arms, fingers fluttering at her wrists.
Beneath her, Elle’s breathing had changed, her back flexing a little.
It was more exciting than it should have been.
Pulling Elle’s hands together just above her head, she tightened her fingers around them as well as she could, having done this enough times since they had started dating to know that Elle would do what she wanted. There was another moment of uncertainty, a hitch in her movements as she drew her hand down one arm, gripping slim wrists in one hand as she passed over blonde hair and then along a spine, hearing that little sound again.
Down to where Elle was wearing her skirt, blue cloth she had been wearing when they had first met in the middle of such insanity, a sure sign of the bizarre courtship that had followed. Nothing but skin beneath when she slipped her fingers under the hem and she swallowed, braced herself, finally pushed Elle’s legs harder against the bed, pinning her.
Only then did she cautiously plant a teasing little pat there through the cloth, hearing Elle’s breathing catch in anticipation.
The sound caused a jolt to go through her groin, her wrist rolling to repeat the motion.
It was a little harder this time, and a smothered little noise met her, Elle trying to lift to meet the touch.
“Stop,” and Elle froze immediately, breathing out harshly.
A bit overwhelmed, Claire hesitated, eyes skimming the lines of the body under hers, found flushed skin and tight muscles, Elle’s body tense with anticipation. It was all familiar and Claire shifted her weight, fingers traveling around a waist before dipping between slim legs, finding a wetness that Elle tried to press against her palm.
She wanted this.
“Okay,” she decided with sudden certainty, “okay-”
She drew her hand away, rocked back on her heels and found hips lifting up immediately, expectantly, as Elle waited, somehow more patient in this even in her excitement than she was in anything Claire could remember since she had known her. The knowledge caused a tug inside her and she swallowed, nodded. “Okay- okay, don’t move.”
It wasn’t going to be a problem, she knew, but the words slipped out and she liked it, saying it.
Liked the way Elle nodded automatically, fingers spread out on the sheets.
Getting to her feet, she undid her jeans, pulled the denim off and then the damp cotton underneath, keeping both eyes on the figure on the bed as she lifted her shirt off, dropped it to the side and then unhooked her bra. Blushing in a vague embarrassment she couldn’t process, she climbed back up onto the bed, sliding her hands up Elle’s legs from ankle to thigh, pausing there as she considered.
“Scoot up,” she finally decided, and closed her eyes at the same jolt she felt when Elle obeyed, stiffening back into her previous position, only the restless movements of her hands across the sheets showing her real frustration. She’d done it before, thrown orders out at Elle that Elle had always responded to, but this was really fucking different.
Because Elle was wearing her fucking uniform.
Freud would have something to say about that, wouldn’t he?
“Don’t move,” she said even though she didn’t have to, tracing a hand lazily up Elle’s spine to undo the zipper, her body pressing against the one beneath hers as she pushed it up Elle’s arms until it tangled over her palms. “Take that off,” and Elle obeyed, setting it the side and then going back to how she’d been situated, bottom lifted slightly and upper half bent low.
It was ridiculous how Claire reacted to the sight, bending forward over Elle, sliding her arms around the female body, palms cupping the bare breasts she found and kneading slowly. A moan spilled out of the body beneath her and she increased the pressure, rolling her wrists the way Elle liked until the moan slipped out again, more desperate than before.
“Do you like this?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation, not a flicker of uncertainty, and there was that tug again, right between her legs.
She took a moment to enjoy it, not pulling away until Elle was squirming, twisting for any relief she could find. “I said not to move,” she muttered and Elle made a tiny little sound, pressing her forehead into the bed even as she went still again. “You don’t move unless I tell you to,” she stated, and drew back a little, lifting Elle’s hips and then pulling her legs open, adjusting the position until she knew it was what she wanted and smoothing the little skirt down as well as she could. “Noises are good, be as noisy as you want,” she stated after a moment, reaching forward to press Elle’s upper body flatter to the bed, grabbing Elle’s wrists and placing her hands flat, arms stretched out. “But no touching yourself, no moving, or I’ll stop.” She waited then, excited herself, but there was silence. “I want an answer.”
“Okay.”
“Elle-”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” she demanded, words bursting out of her before she could stop them, the sharp tone leaving her feeling even more heated when she realized what she’d just said and that she’d completely meant the tone.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Elle replied and Claire nodded, feeling like an idiot a second later.
“Good girl,” she offered, vaguely aware of how ridiculous she must sound and yet completely unable to care as she stroked her palms up Elle’s calves, bent for a moment to press her mouth against one, pulling back as she reached her thighs. On impulse, she pressed her mouth to the opposite thigh, letting her tongue sweep over the skin before pulling back.
Fingers sliding up rapidly heating skin, she lifted the skirt, leaving it to bunch around Elle’s waist and taking a moment to absorb it all, Elle’s body bare on the bed in front of her, her form settled the way Claire wanted it, open to her. “I love you,” she felt the urge to say, kissing a hip and feeling a shiver in return. “I mean, you piss me off and I want to throw you off a bridge half the time but I do love you.” She abruptly slid two fingers deep into Elle, waited until the little cry of surprise had faded before thrusting hard, finding her wet but still tight, watching her press her upper half against the bed. “Good?”
“Yes- yes-” Her voice broke and her muscles flexed in a clear attempt to keep from moving.
She kept going, driving deep at a quick speed, but this wasn’t what Elle wanted, and they both knew it.
“Not yet,” she warned as she twisted, stroked deep, unable to fight the heat rising in her voice, “you’re not allowed- don’t be bad-”
The words worked.
Elle drove her pelvis back, fucking Claire’s fingers frantically only to groan in frustration as Claire stopped and pulled her fingers free, flicking at Elle’s clit, grinning excitedly at the way her body jerked. “I told you not to move,” she blurted, heat bubbling up inside her. “I thought you were going to do what I said but god, you can’t even-”
“Please-”
“You’re a fucking bad girl,” Claire snapped and Elle’s entire body trembled at the words, her fingers knotting in the sheets. “I told you not to move, I told you, and you said you wouldn’t.” It was surreal, how she knew what to do, what to say even without the little script Elle had given her, how to lean forward and push Elle back down to the bed and hold her down. “You said you were going to be good.”
“Please, Ma’am,” Elle blurted in a desperate rush, “please, Ma’am-”
“No, you’ve been bad.” She shifted and then slid forward like she had long minutes before, pushing one knee between Elle’s open legs as she cupped sensitized breasts, flicked her nails at hardened peaks that had been pressed against the bed and opening her mouth against a round shoulder, biting possessively. “I did all this for you and you can’t even-”
“Please,” Elle begged, pushing back against her body. “I’m so sorry I was bad,” and Claire closed her eyes at the words, at the low hysterical tone, at how the painful throb between her own legs intensified. “I was bad, a bad girl, but I’ll be good now, I swear, I’ll be good now-”
“I don’t think you will.”
“I will, I’ll be good-”
“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson,” and oh shit, she was going to come undone before they even finished. Under her, Elle’s entire body was rigid and Claire clung to her carefully, tried to breathe, tried to focus, tried to keep Elle pinned down the way she wanted. “You’ve been horrible,” she panted quietly, “and I don’t think you…”
Her voice failed her, and Elle babbled to fill the silence, “Oh, please, please, don’t… please don’t…”
But she nodded hysterically, urging Claire to continue, to finish, bucking her pelvis up against Claire’s own.
Claire slid back a little, clinging to the other body as she pushed her thigh forward between Elle’s, felt a shocking heat grind down against the skin there. She checked that the skirt was up, checked that Elle was ready and she was, more excited than Claire had ever seen her, cunt pressed down against her upper thigh. “I’ll be good-”
She jerked her wrist blindly, bringing her hand down where thigh met ass and groaning at the cry of pleasure that greeted the strike, the wave of pleasure it caused in her own body. “You’ve been a bad fucking girl,” she bit out, driving her thigh forward and striking again, Elle looking elated as she ground excitedly, bent as well she could for another quick slap, one that made her twist her fingers in the sheets, push back and down.
Once, twice, three times in rapid succession and Elle suddenly hit her peak with a low-throated sound Claire had never heard before, body shuddering as she bounced, fingers knotting into fabric as she shivered and slowed and finally stopped, happy little grin on her face and looking absolutely euphoric.
Frantic, heated, Claire pushed against her, gasping when Elle pushed right back and she found herself on herself sprawled out on the bed, Elle kissing her with a force she didn’t expect, pulling her legs open. “That was fucking great,” she panted as she pulled away for a second, returning with more force, tongue stroking hard against Claire’s, palm stroking one breast playfully as she drew back again. “There were fucking fireworks in my head-”
In the next second, Elle ducked down between her legs, mouth falling open where she needed it most.
She started to say something, that it was good, that she liked it, but that was useless as a tongue circled her clit and her head fell back, only a smothered grunt escaping. Overwhelmed, she lay dazed as Elle pushed her open, devoured her, the sudden little burst of laughter that she let out as she took control in the last moments driving Claire to the edge.
Oh, right, fireworks in her head.
No wonder Elle liked them.
Limbs heavy as the tremors subsided and staring blindly up at the ceiling in the weird little bubble of happiness she found herself in, she tried to focus on Elle kissing her way back up her body, the little bouts of pleased laughter she felt against her skin. A kiss against her jaw line, another against her mouth, lazy and sated, and she exhaled raggedly as fingers trailed through her hair, brushing it back from her face.
“Hi,” Elle told her happily, and she couldn’t help the weak little giggle that escaped her.
“Hi.”
Beaming in response, Elle shifted enough to undo the wrinkled-up little skirt and peel it off, flinging it to the side and then scooting up against Claire’s side, eyelids visibly heavy as she twirled a few strands of her hair. “That was really great,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I was afraid you were going to chicken out but you were way better than I thought you were gonna be…” Her head dropped, little sigh puffing against Claire as she settled comfortably, clearly intent on passing out for a few hours.
There was a long beat of silence and Claire closed her eyes, sighed quietly.
“Hey,” Elle whispered against her neck and Claire rolled a little towards Elle, cuddling her shamelessly.
Another beat of silence as they lay together, slender fingers stroking across Claire’s shoulder.
“You wouldn’t really throw me off a bridge, would you?”
Rating: NC-17 (sexuality, language, spanking, role playing, hints of D/s)
Pairing: Elle/Claire
Prompt: "uniform" at 7snogs
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. Clearly.
Timeline: Takes place in my Something Blue universe.
Notes: Blatant and shameless PWP because I just had to that ended up becoming over 3900 words despite my attempts not to let it; inspiration for the title goes to splendid_it!
Dedication: To paynesgrey, who squeed with me and inspired me to finish when I would have thrown in the towel. You are so totally one of my bbs, my bb!
Teaser: Elle Bishop is a bad birthday girl and Claire tries to give Elle her birthday gift. Which is the whole point of being a bad birthday girl. Yes, it's really that straightforward.
Elle Bishop was twenty-nine years old.
Claire could not spank a twenty-nine year old.
After years of insanity, the idea of it should not have felt so insane.
But it did.
Because perched on the bed like a prim schoolgirl, Elle was staring back at her with wide eyes and an excited grin, fingers tight around the hem of the skirt she was wearing, looking like she was ten seconds away from jumping out of her skin in anticipation. They’d fiddled with the uniform so that it would fit her better, so that it would look good.
It did, admittedly.
But it was just a further weird aspect of this entire thing because Elle wanted to do this in… her uniform.
Claire thought about the dialogue given to her and exhaled unhappily, closing her eyes in frustration.
When she opened them again, Elle was still sitting there, looking even more excited.
Maybe if she ran for it-
“Okay,” Elle announced brightly, “I’m ready.”
And she bounced excitedly on the bed.
She looked like she was about to go to Disney World or something.
“Okay, bend over.”
She got a dirty look in response, Elle’s shoulders stiffening in annoyance. “I told you what to say,” she huffed and Claire closed her eyes in frustration, annoyingly aware of the flush that ignited up her neck. “You said you’d do it!”
“You’re a grown woman. I- I can’t spank a grown woman, Elle.”
“But I’ve been bad-”
“Oh, god, stop,” Claire blurted helplessly, flinging her hand up to stop the words, trying to block them out.
Scowling, Elle bounced to her feet and snatched the papers from Claire’s hand, waving them in the younger woman’s face furiously. “I wrote it all down for you, you just have to follow the instructions and say the words-”
“You’re not a toaster oven, Elle.”
“You said you would do whatever I wanted!”
“I thought you meant handcuffs or something,” Claire sputtered, face burning at the sight of Elle in her own modified uniform, hair loose around her face and face stony with a hint of a brewing tantrum. “That was fun, I thought-”
“You promised,” Elle told her flatly, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into a full-on pout.
But her tone made Claire Bennet sigh weakly, eyes closing in an attempt to stop feeling like an idiot.
It was a basic fact that promises meant something to both of them, and they took their promises to each other seriously- they never made one unless they were ready to follow through no matter what, and they did whatever they had to do in order to keep one after one of them made said promise.
So Elle’s furious little tone caused a spike of guilt, made her rub her forehead furiously.
“What if I hurt you?”
“That’s what I want-”
“No, I mean…” Oh, god, she couldn’t say it out loud. “…what if I… spank you too hard?”
Oh, god, she’d said it out loud.
“I told you, if I want you to stop, I’ll just say ‘pompom’,” she reminded the former cheerleader cheerfully, thumping the papers happily. Turning away, she gestured around at the bedroom, looking like a porno version of those women on game shows who made the overdone hand motions at the prizes. “Now how do you want me?”
“I can’t just start… doing it,” Claire protested, unable to voice the words.
“You’re not, we’re going to get you all excited so you can get into it but we need to figure out how.” She glanced at a chair, chewed her lip thoughtfully before shaking her head and instead flipping her fingers to point at the desk against the wall. “You can bend me over that if you want to do it that way but not with the chair, it would probably tip over knowing our luck.”
Claire closed her eyes at the reminder of some of their disasters, grimaced at the images that popped into her head.
It turned out that an accidental electrical fire was the least of what they could do when they got too excited.
“Or do you want to put me over your knee?”
“I’m not putting you over my knee,” Claire told her firmly and Elle must have seen the severity of her refusal because she smiled reassuringly and waved her hands to dispel the sudden tenseness of the room, shrugged carelessly.
“Maybe I should just…” She stepped close, turned and bent at the waist, “Try something like this.”
“You’ll fall on your face.”
“Then I’ll stand against the wall!” Elle snapped as she straightened and spun around to face her, clearly getting frustrated over Claire’s lack of suggestions in regards to how they would carry it all out when they got to that point. “Come on, you’re the one that’s going to be doing the spanking-” Claire cringed helplessly. “-so help me out here.”
“I want to do the bed,” Claire blurted desperately in an attempt to stop what she knew was going to become a whine.
Nodding, worst of the annoyance leaving her face, Elle brushed past her to bend over the bed, shifting a few times before glancing back at Claire. “Like this?” she questioned and got a helpless little shrug in response. “How about this?” she prodded determinedly, spreading her legs a bit more. “Well?”
“This is weird.”
“Claire!”
There was a definite whine there.
“It’s fucking weird,” Claire insisted, setting the papers on the corner of the bed and grabbing her girlfriend, straightening her up and looking her over. She wasn’t wearing anything under the uniform and if Claire flipped the skirt up, there was just skin, the strip of cloth having been cut out earlier in preparation for this insanity.
Elle looked hot in it, she did.
But it was still weird, and when she thought about the little script Elle had created, it was even weirder.
“I can’t do this-” Elle opened her mouth to protest and Claire slapped her hand across it, shaking her head furiously. “I think I can do the… the…” She stopped, took a deep breath. “The spanking,” she finally forced out, “but you cannot call me daddy.” She felt Elle open her mouth again, and pressed her hand harder to shut her up. “No.”
Big blue eyes stared at her silently, the gears in Elle’s head clearly working, and Claire dropped her hand, waiting.
Finally- “It has nothing to do with anything…”
“You’re dressed up in my uniform and wanting to call me daddy while I spank you and call you a bad girl.”
“But you know your dad gets me hot, you said you were okay with that-”
“Yes,” Claire sighed, remembering that bizarre confession when they had first started their strange little relationship years before, “but this is different and you cannot call me daddy.” Elle still looked ready to protest more and she added quickly, meaning it more than she wanted to admit, “Maybe in the future but I do not have enough mental bleach for that right now.”
There was a tense beat of silence before Elle sighed, rolling her eyes up in exasperation. “Okay, god!”
“You promise?”
“Yes,” Elle grumbled, her real annoyance a sign that she meant it.
Satisfied that the worst of the trauma wouldn’t be taking place, she glanced between her girlfriend and the bed, trying to picture the way that would least freak her out in the middle of the whole ordeal. Finally, she just pointed in a helpless little order, watching as Elle dropped onto the bed and then paused on her knees, obviously awaiting further instructions.
“I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Just pretend we’re going to have sex.”
“But we’re not going to have sex-”
“We will when I get off,” Elle reminded her in exasperation. “Now how do you want me?”
It was sign of her badly she really wanted this to happen the right way for both of them, Claire knew, that Elle hadn’t just snapped and zapped her already to vent her frustrations at Claire’s apprehension. That little epiphany made her grimace, groan quietly, and she gestured again, vaguely. “Just… stretch out,” she finally sighed, watching Elle happily comply.
Picking back up the papers, flipping through them needlessly (she’d memorized the entire embarrassing script over the last two days, the mental images it created searing into her brain), she glanced over Elle’s bubbly little handwriting. Licked her lips in amusement at the places where Elle underlined certain sections of instructions with a blue marker and the few lines of dialogue she’d highlighted as being extremely important to give her what she really wanted.
Dropping the papers back down, she climbed onto the bed, moved up on her hands and knees and pretended that this was just sex, taking in the sight of Elle stretched out between her knees. “I think I’d fewer problems with a Catholic school girl uniform,” she decided after a tense moment, and Elle glanced over her shoulder with a grin, eyebrows lifting playfully.
“I can get one.”
“That was a joke,” Claire sputtered, but Elle has read the interest on Claire’s face the way she did everything else.
“I’ll do that for your birthday,” Elle promised, grinning but completely serious, and Claire couldn’t fight her blush, embarrassingly aware of the fact that the flush got worse when Elle squirmed playfully between her legs. She had no idea how to handle the fact that this was freaking her out but the thought of Elle in a little plaid skirt bent over a school desk had caused an instant liquid heat to ignite low in her belly.
“Let me concentrate,” she scowled when Elle wriggled again, pushing her knees into the bed to pin Elle down.
A little breath escaped the woman under her, and Claire hesitated, considering.
She and Elle had done a lot of things together, they’d had lots of sex and they knew what they liked.
Hell, not just the two of them that one time, there’d been that trip to Adam to Italy with that friend of his…
That had been fun.
Well, bottom line was, they had good sex together and Elle had done all kinds of things for her.
Including the handcuffs experiment when Elle surprisingly, had been the unsure one of the duo (“But what if I get too excited and pull your arms off? And metal conducts electricity!” “Just do it, Jesus!”).
“We’re just having sex,” she told herself as she lowered herself on top of Elle, legs pinning her lower body and hands sliding down Elle’s arms. “We’re just having sex, that’s all.” She rocked a little, feeling the curve of Elle’s ass pressing up against her groin, closing her eyes and focusing on how much skin she could feel despite the uniform. “Just sex,” she stated, and followed the lines of Elle’s arms, fingers fluttering at her wrists.
Beneath her, Elle’s breathing had changed, her back flexing a little.
It was more exciting than it should have been.
Pulling Elle’s hands together just above her head, she tightened her fingers around them as well as she could, having done this enough times since they had started dating to know that Elle would do what she wanted. There was another moment of uncertainty, a hitch in her movements as she drew her hand down one arm, gripping slim wrists in one hand as she passed over blonde hair and then along a spine, hearing that little sound again.
Down to where Elle was wearing her skirt, blue cloth she had been wearing when they had first met in the middle of such insanity, a sure sign of the bizarre courtship that had followed. Nothing but skin beneath when she slipped her fingers under the hem and she swallowed, braced herself, finally pushed Elle’s legs harder against the bed, pinning her.
Only then did she cautiously plant a teasing little pat there through the cloth, hearing Elle’s breathing catch in anticipation.
The sound caused a jolt to go through her groin, her wrist rolling to repeat the motion.
It was a little harder this time, and a smothered little noise met her, Elle trying to lift to meet the touch.
“Stop,” and Elle froze immediately, breathing out harshly.
A bit overwhelmed, Claire hesitated, eyes skimming the lines of the body under hers, found flushed skin and tight muscles, Elle’s body tense with anticipation. It was all familiar and Claire shifted her weight, fingers traveling around a waist before dipping between slim legs, finding a wetness that Elle tried to press against her palm.
She wanted this.
“Okay,” she decided with sudden certainty, “okay-”
She drew her hand away, rocked back on her heels and found hips lifting up immediately, expectantly, as Elle waited, somehow more patient in this even in her excitement than she was in anything Claire could remember since she had known her. The knowledge caused a tug inside her and she swallowed, nodded. “Okay- okay, don’t move.”
It wasn’t going to be a problem, she knew, but the words slipped out and she liked it, saying it.
Liked the way Elle nodded automatically, fingers spread out on the sheets.
Getting to her feet, she undid her jeans, pulled the denim off and then the damp cotton underneath, keeping both eyes on the figure on the bed as she lifted her shirt off, dropped it to the side and then unhooked her bra. Blushing in a vague embarrassment she couldn’t process, she climbed back up onto the bed, sliding her hands up Elle’s legs from ankle to thigh, pausing there as she considered.
“Scoot up,” she finally decided, and closed her eyes at the same jolt she felt when Elle obeyed, stiffening back into her previous position, only the restless movements of her hands across the sheets showing her real frustration. She’d done it before, thrown orders out at Elle that Elle had always responded to, but this was really fucking different.
Because Elle was wearing her fucking uniform.
Freud would have something to say about that, wouldn’t he?
“Don’t move,” she said even though she didn’t have to, tracing a hand lazily up Elle’s spine to undo the zipper, her body pressing against the one beneath hers as she pushed it up Elle’s arms until it tangled over her palms. “Take that off,” and Elle obeyed, setting it the side and then going back to how she’d been situated, bottom lifted slightly and upper half bent low.
It was ridiculous how Claire reacted to the sight, bending forward over Elle, sliding her arms around the female body, palms cupping the bare breasts she found and kneading slowly. A moan spilled out of the body beneath her and she increased the pressure, rolling her wrists the way Elle liked until the moan slipped out again, more desperate than before.
“Do you like this?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation, not a flicker of uncertainty, and there was that tug again, right between her legs.
She took a moment to enjoy it, not pulling away until Elle was squirming, twisting for any relief she could find. “I said not to move,” she muttered and Elle made a tiny little sound, pressing her forehead into the bed even as she went still again. “You don’t move unless I tell you to,” she stated, and drew back a little, lifting Elle’s hips and then pulling her legs open, adjusting the position until she knew it was what she wanted and smoothing the little skirt down as well as she could. “Noises are good, be as noisy as you want,” she stated after a moment, reaching forward to press Elle’s upper body flatter to the bed, grabbing Elle’s wrists and placing her hands flat, arms stretched out. “But no touching yourself, no moving, or I’ll stop.” She waited then, excited herself, but there was silence. “I want an answer.”
“Okay.”
“Elle-”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” she demanded, words bursting out of her before she could stop them, the sharp tone leaving her feeling even more heated when she realized what she’d just said and that she’d completely meant the tone.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Elle replied and Claire nodded, feeling like an idiot a second later.
“Good girl,” she offered, vaguely aware of how ridiculous she must sound and yet completely unable to care as she stroked her palms up Elle’s calves, bent for a moment to press her mouth against one, pulling back as she reached her thighs. On impulse, she pressed her mouth to the opposite thigh, letting her tongue sweep over the skin before pulling back.
Fingers sliding up rapidly heating skin, she lifted the skirt, leaving it to bunch around Elle’s waist and taking a moment to absorb it all, Elle’s body bare on the bed in front of her, her form settled the way Claire wanted it, open to her. “I love you,” she felt the urge to say, kissing a hip and feeling a shiver in return. “I mean, you piss me off and I want to throw you off a bridge half the time but I do love you.” She abruptly slid two fingers deep into Elle, waited until the little cry of surprise had faded before thrusting hard, finding her wet but still tight, watching her press her upper half against the bed. “Good?”
“Yes- yes-” Her voice broke and her muscles flexed in a clear attempt to keep from moving.
She kept going, driving deep at a quick speed, but this wasn’t what Elle wanted, and they both knew it.
“Not yet,” she warned as she twisted, stroked deep, unable to fight the heat rising in her voice, “you’re not allowed- don’t be bad-”
The words worked.
Elle drove her pelvis back, fucking Claire’s fingers frantically only to groan in frustration as Claire stopped and pulled her fingers free, flicking at Elle’s clit, grinning excitedly at the way her body jerked. “I told you not to move,” she blurted, heat bubbling up inside her. “I thought you were going to do what I said but god, you can’t even-”
“Please-”
“You’re a fucking bad girl,” Claire snapped and Elle’s entire body trembled at the words, her fingers knotting in the sheets. “I told you not to move, I told you, and you said you wouldn’t.” It was surreal, how she knew what to do, what to say even without the little script Elle had given her, how to lean forward and push Elle back down to the bed and hold her down. “You said you were going to be good.”
“Please, Ma’am,” Elle blurted in a desperate rush, “please, Ma’am-”
“No, you’ve been bad.” She shifted and then slid forward like she had long minutes before, pushing one knee between Elle’s open legs as she cupped sensitized breasts, flicked her nails at hardened peaks that had been pressed against the bed and opening her mouth against a round shoulder, biting possessively. “I did all this for you and you can’t even-”
“Please,” Elle begged, pushing back against her body. “I’m so sorry I was bad,” and Claire closed her eyes at the words, at the low hysterical tone, at how the painful throb between her own legs intensified. “I was bad, a bad girl, but I’ll be good now, I swear, I’ll be good now-”
“I don’t think you will.”
“I will, I’ll be good-”
“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson,” and oh shit, she was going to come undone before they even finished. Under her, Elle’s entire body was rigid and Claire clung to her carefully, tried to breathe, tried to focus, tried to keep Elle pinned down the way she wanted. “You’ve been horrible,” she panted quietly, “and I don’t think you…”
Her voice failed her, and Elle babbled to fill the silence, “Oh, please, please, don’t… please don’t…”
But she nodded hysterically, urging Claire to continue, to finish, bucking her pelvis up against Claire’s own.
Claire slid back a little, clinging to the other body as she pushed her thigh forward between Elle’s, felt a shocking heat grind down against the skin there. She checked that the skirt was up, checked that Elle was ready and she was, more excited than Claire had ever seen her, cunt pressed down against her upper thigh. “I’ll be good-”
She jerked her wrist blindly, bringing her hand down where thigh met ass and groaning at the cry of pleasure that greeted the strike, the wave of pleasure it caused in her own body. “You’ve been a bad fucking girl,” she bit out, driving her thigh forward and striking again, Elle looking elated as she ground excitedly, bent as well she could for another quick slap, one that made her twist her fingers in the sheets, push back and down.
Once, twice, three times in rapid succession and Elle suddenly hit her peak with a low-throated sound Claire had never heard before, body shuddering as she bounced, fingers knotting into fabric as she shivered and slowed and finally stopped, happy little grin on her face and looking absolutely euphoric.
Frantic, heated, Claire pushed against her, gasping when Elle pushed right back and she found herself on herself sprawled out on the bed, Elle kissing her with a force she didn’t expect, pulling her legs open. “That was fucking great,” she panted as she pulled away for a second, returning with more force, tongue stroking hard against Claire’s, palm stroking one breast playfully as she drew back again. “There were fucking fireworks in my head-”
In the next second, Elle ducked down between her legs, mouth falling open where she needed it most.
She started to say something, that it was good, that she liked it, but that was useless as a tongue circled her clit and her head fell back, only a smothered grunt escaping. Overwhelmed, she lay dazed as Elle pushed her open, devoured her, the sudden little burst of laughter that she let out as she took control in the last moments driving Claire to the edge.
Oh, right, fireworks in her head.
No wonder Elle liked them.
Limbs heavy as the tremors subsided and staring blindly up at the ceiling in the weird little bubble of happiness she found herself in, she tried to focus on Elle kissing her way back up her body, the little bouts of pleased laughter she felt against her skin. A kiss against her jaw line, another against her mouth, lazy and sated, and she exhaled raggedly as fingers trailed through her hair, brushing it back from her face.
“Hi,” Elle told her happily, and she couldn’t help the weak little giggle that escaped her.
“Hi.”
Beaming in response, Elle shifted enough to undo the wrinkled-up little skirt and peel it off, flinging it to the side and then scooting up against Claire’s side, eyelids visibly heavy as she twirled a few strands of her hair. “That was really great,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I was afraid you were going to chicken out but you were way better than I thought you were gonna be…” Her head dropped, little sigh puffing against Claire as she settled comfortably, clearly intent on passing out for a few hours.
There was a long beat of silence and Claire closed her eyes, sighed quietly.
“Hey,” Elle whispered against her neck and Claire rolled a little towards Elle, cuddling her shamelessly.
Another beat of silence as they lay together, slender fingers stroking across Claire’s shoulder.
“You wouldn’t really throw me off a bridge, would you?”