Tell Me What to Do, chapter five
Title: Tell Me What To Do
Fandom: Glee: Brittana (Brittany Pierce /Santana Lopez)
Disclaimer: I do not own or mean to offend. Making no money.
Spoilers: None.
Warning: This fic is rated M or NC-17, depending on where you be. Rating for language, sexytimes, and some drug usage. Very light dom/sub play.
Summary: Santana is a derby girl and gets in her head to ask Brittany to dominate her. Beginning of a dom/sub relationship. This is my first try at Brittana, so I hope I do them justice. This chapter involves a lot of firsts. Teasing, orgasm denial, the watching of porn, the first time San dives into sub space, and very very fleeting ass play (blink and you'll miss it).
Feedback is love.
A/N: This chapter is like nothing I've ever written before. There are a lot of intense themes and some kink stuff that I haven't previously attempted. I realize that kink isn't everyone's cuppa tea, and I tried to treat it as artistically as possible. That said, if it's not your bag, apologies all around. Hopefully most readers have already anticipated that this is the direction this fic is going. Still nothing super crazy. Just... heavier? Hope you enjoy.
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
Chapter Five - Test
Brittany had paused the movie again, before it had even started.
“Puppy,” Brittany said. “Look at me.” Santana complied, saw love and support and ... what was it? concern? “Today is going to be a test for you, puppy,” Brittany continued softly. “It’s about endurance. This is the first time we’ve done this, and it’ll be ... tough. You need to prepare yourself mentally. Emotionally.” Brittany caressed Santana’s cheek. “Do you understand?”
Mentally, Santana Lopez could handle absolutely anything. But she had no idea how to prepare herself emotionally. What does that even mean? But here was Brittany, warning her, preparing her. Caring for her. What else could she possibly ask for?
Hesitantly, Santana nodded, and Brittany patted her thigh. “Good girl,” she said, and started the movie one last time.
___
Santana made it through the film, shifting her weight from side to side to alleviate the pressure on her tender skin for as long as she could. She’d never really been much for watching porn, but under the circumstances watching two hot naked women together while sitting next to her Mistress was making her feel extremely horny. Every few minutes, Brittany would reach over and lazily graze a nipple with her fingernail or pull a lock of Santana’s hair, totally engrossed in what was happening on their t.v. and supposedly completely oblivious to Santana, except to toy with her occasionally.
When the film was over, Brittany leaned up and said hotly in Santana’s ear, “Mmmm, puppy, your Mistress liked watching that. Feel how much.” And Brittany’s firm hand encircled a trembling wrist and guided Santana’s to slide through her wetness and skim her clit. Brittany rolled her shoulders, shoving her breasts in Santana’s face, threw her head back and moaned wantonly.
Fuck. Fuck! Eyes. Eyes.
Santana used every ounce of willpower she had to keep her eyes lowered. Her throat was so dry, and she felt herself swallow repeatedly.
Brittany laughed softly and cupped the back of Santana’s neck. “Puppy has learned her lesson from her spanking earlier. That was a test, puppy.” Brittany pressed her mouth to Santana’s ear once again and whispered, “Good girl.”
There was a slow unfurling in Santana’s stomach at Brittany’s praise, and she fought to keep from grinding into the towel. She hadn’t been told she could grind, after all.
“I think such good obedience deserves a reward. Don’t you, puppy?” Brittany continued.
“W-whatever pleases Mistress.” Brown eyes cast downward; barely audible voice. Submissive.
Santana Lopez, derby girl and all around fucking badass, was being submissive.
“Oh, I think this might please me quite a bit,” Brittany murmured and rolled Santana’s nipple between her thumb and finger. Santana said a silent thank you that Brittany’s hand was directly in her line of sight and she sat as still as possible, unable to take her eyes off it.
“Tha-” Fuck! Deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you, Mistress.”
“Mmm. You’re mine. I own you,” Brittany growled and licked Santana’s ear. Santana’s eyes shut tightly and she could not contain the moan that ripped through her. She froze, holding her breath, afraid that Brittany might stop what she was doing and punish her again. Afraid of disappointment. Afraid of another spanking. There was no way she could handle another one so soon. She was soaked, and if Brittany didn’t let her come soon, she had no idea how she’d be able to deal.
Brittany’s grip tightened on the back of Santana’s neck, almost painfully. She nosed into Santana’s hair and responded with a moan to match. “Mmm, puppy, that was hot,” she rumbled. Relieved, Santana released the breath she’d been holding.
Brittany murmured, “I didn’t tell you can’t speak, puppy.” A nip against her collarbone. “Or make noises.” Nip. “Especially moaning.” Nip, this time hard. Santana hissed. “You make me unbelievably wet when you can’t hold back one of your moans.”
She sucked hard over the spot she’d just bitten.
“Here,” Brittany said wickedly. “Feel.”
And she guided Santana’s hand through her wetness once again, this time bucking slightly into Santana’s hand when her fingers touched her clit.
“Ugh, puppy,” she groaned.
Santana felt another rush of wetness. When Brittany held her own fingers in front of her face with her Mistress’s wetness on them, she began to silently beg. Brittany must have seen it on her face.
“Do you have something you want to ask me, puppy?” Brittany’s voice was lower than Santana had ever heard it.
“Please? Mistress.” It was barely a whisper. Shaken. Raw. She needed this. More than she’d ever needed anything in her life. She could smell Brittany on her own fingers, right in front of her. “Please!”
“Please what, puppy?” Brittany coaxed.
“Please, Mistress, may I.... ” oh god “May I taste you?”
The sigh that came out of Brittany’s mouth nearly unhinged Santana, and she stared harder at her dripping fingers.
“Do you want me on your tongue, puppy?”
Oh god, yes! Santana had always loved the way Brittany tasted, but hearing herself ask for it was nearly too much. “Yes, Mistress.”
There was a pause and then - “Beg me.”
Santana faltered. She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was Brittany. Soft, caring, creative Brittany. Her Brittany. Except, no. Not her Brittany. This time, she was Brittany’s Santana.
“Puppy,” Brittany warned coolly. “Look at me and beg me to let you taste me.”
Oh sweet Jesus fuck!
Timidly, Santana raised her eyes and saw wide blue ones watching her with interest, waiting to see what she would do. There was love there, always. And tenderness. And something Santana had never seen before, never felt. Power. She allowed herself to cower under Brittany’s gaze and felt a thrill as she licked her lips and said quietly, “Please let me suck you off my own fingers, Mistress.”
Brittany moaned again then and nodded, watching with hooded eyes as she allowed Santana to bring her fingers to her mouth. The moment she tasted Brittany on her tongue, Santana nearly fainted, she was so aroused.
She sucked hard at her fingers, running her tongue along every inch until she could no longer taste her Mistress there.
When she finished, she looked Brittany in the eye - a luxury for puppy, and she was making the most of it - and said breathily, “Thank you Mistress. You taste amazing.”
Suddenly, Brittany was pushing at the back of Santana’s neck, forcefully. “On your knees,” she commanded, and Santana scrambled off the couch and dropped to her knees so hard she knew there would be bruises there later.
She locked her eyes on the floor in front of her and waited, twisting her hands in front of her. At least she was off her ass again, but she was still uncomfortable, the wetness dripping slowly down the inside of one thigh.
Brittany was in front of her then and for the first time, Santana could smell what she was really doing to her lover. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to bury her nose in Brittany’s panties, but she controlled herself.
Eyes down. Obey. I’m hers.
“Puppy, you may watch.” Eagerly, Santana’s eyes flicked up and saw Brittany’s thumbs edging along the band of her panties before running back and forth teasingly. “Today is about learning how to be patient, puppy. And about pleasing your Mistress before all else.”
Santana nodded dumbly. They’d already shared so many firsts with each other through this game and Santana found herself doubting yet again whether this was actually going to happen.
“Do you know why you’re kneeling in front of me, puppy?” The tantalizing thumbs continued running back and forth, between the edge of Brittany’s panties and her bustier. Santana had a pretty good idea why she was kneeling in front of Brittany, but she didn’t know exactly what response Brittany was looking for, so she just shook her head again, eyes trained on those thumbs and aching for them to pull the silky material down further.
“You’re kneeling, puppy, because I want you to feel what it’s like to serve your Mistress on your knees.”
Santana groaned again, felt Brittany’s hand at the base of her neck, gripping her hair tightly. “You’re going to lick me until I come, puppy.”
Santana barely had time to process Brittany’s insanely hot words. She felt the pull at her neck at the same time Brittany’s hips thrust forward into her, and before she fully realized what was happening, Brittany was grinding against her.
Santana didn’t realize how aroused she really was until her senses were completely blocked out. The first thing she noticed was how incredibly wet Brittany was. Like, really wet. A filmy gloss was spread over the outside of Brittany’s panties and when she ground her hips into Santana’s mouth, it coated her lips.
“Oh my god,” Santana groaned, pushing her face harder into Brittany. “Oh my fucking god. You’re so wet.” A half a beat later, she had the foggy presence of mind to add “Mistress.”
Brittany was just making incoherent noises now, grinding harder and gripping Santana’s hair forcefully.
“Mistress,” Santana begged, her voice muffled in Brittany’s wetness. “Please, Mistress!”
Brittany slowed but didn’t stop. “Yes, puppy,” she granted, her voice ragged. Santana could tell she was close, just that fast. Jesus, Britt’s really into this.
“Mistress, may I touch you? Please!” Santana knew how she sounded. It was a new level of desperation for her, but it felt oddly normal inside of her own head, and once she breached it that first time, it was a cloak she knew she’d want to drape around herself again and again.
It felt really good to be that vulnerable with Brittany.
“Yes, puppy.” Brittany bucked. “Touch me!” And Santana was amazed at the parallel desperation in Brittany’s voice. A different sound, a companion to Santana’s own. But a desperation, all the same.
She needed no further goading.
She raised her hands to Brittany’s ass and clutched, jerking her Mistress’s hips harder into her face. When she heard Brittany’s cry, felt the grip in her hair tighten, the force in Brittany’s grind, she lost her control and bit down through the panties.
“Yes,” Brittany hissed, and then Santana could stand it no longer. She jerked the black silk down over Brittany’s hips, squeezed the smooth skin of Brittany’s ass and plunged her tongue against Brittany’s clit, licking furiously.
Brittany was very flexible and when she arched her back, Santana instinctively tightened her grip, supporting her weight.
The sounds coming out of Brittany’s mouth were otherworldly, guttural and secret, a language Santana was pleased that she alone had the privilege to hear. She couldn’t help herself; she pressed one finger between Brittany’s cheeks and ran it up, following the crease all the way to Brittany’s lower back.
Brittany gave a strangled cry, pushed herself hard against Santana’s tongue one last time and went rigid, Santana holding her and slowing her licks until Brittany fell out of her haze and loosened her muscles once again.
She took a shaky step back, and Santana brought the back of her hand across her mouth, wiping and watching Brittany.
Her knees were killing her, her legs shaking uncontrollably.
Brittany just stared back at her, and Santana wondered what she was thinking. Her bustier was heaving, her hair shocked wildly about her face. Her black silk panties slung around her thighs.
Brittany never looked so beautiful.
The look on Brittany’s face (whatever it meant) faded and Santana’s Mistress bent once again, pulling her panties back into place. “Mmmm, puppy,” she cooed. “That was very good.” She traced her index finger under Santana’s chin and held it up in front of her. “Stay,” she commanded, whirled away, and Santana was left kneeling and naked, Brittany’s wetness on her face, her own arousal throbbing between her legs, shaking and buzzing and spinning.
She’d never felt like this in her life, and she was loving every minute of it.
When Brittany returned a few minutes later, Santana felt like she might be ready to faint. Brittany guided her back to the couch.
“Sit,” she said and then went to tend to the t.v. once again.
At the sound of heavy panting coming from the speakers, Santana felt her eyes widen.
“Eyes up, puppy,” Brittany commanded, and Santana was surprised to see two completely different women on the t.v. screen, making out heatedly and grinding against one another.
“Mistress?” Santana’s voice cracked.
Brittany did not respond. She just dropped back into her place beside her puppy and lazily draped one leg over Santana’s knee, tracing a random pattern on the side of her puppy’s breast. Santana’s breath hitched.
Surely she couldn’t take watching another one while Brittany teased her.
The women on the screen slowly kissed and sucked at each other, taking their time stripping each other of their clothes. By the time they were lying on the bed fingering each other, Brittany had graduated back to toying with Santana’s nipple, and Santana felt like she might snap.
“Puppy.” Pinch, squeeze, roll. “You seem on edge.” Squeeze, pull. “Your legs are clenched together so tightly.” Pinch, roll. Brittany scraped a nail over Santana’s nipple, and Santana gasped, back arching without her consent. Her hands were clenched at her thighs and she prayed silently that Brittany would at least switch to the other nipple. She felt positively raw.
The top woman on t.v. was riding the bottom mercilessly.
“Spread,” Brittany said, tapping Santana’s thigh.
Santana felt the relief wash over her, and she silently thanked all the gods that ever were as she gently spread her legs.
To her surprise, Brittany did not stop toying with her nipple.
The women on t.v. thrashed and bucked and cried out in pleasure, and Santana dripped on the couch. When it ended, she sat stunned, her legs still spread.
She heard a slick squish sound next to her and then,
“Ungh, god, puppy.”
What? Oh god...
Brittany was touching herself.
“Puppy,” Brittany breathed. “That second movie got me all worked up again.”
Oh god oh god oh god oh god.
“Would you like to watch, puppy?”
Santana needed to come like she’d never needed to come before, but she couldn’t help the furiously nod or the heavy breathing or the clenched fists. God, yes, she wanted to watch Brittany touch herself.
Brittany chuckled. “You’ll have to do better than that, puppy, if you really want it. You know how much I like it when you beg.” A single smooth finger traced coyly up the inside of Santana’s thigh, and she nearly clamped her legs back together. Brittany had left a trail of her own juices up Santana’s thigh.
Pleasegodpleasegodpleasegodplease.
“Please, Mistress, may I ... watch?”
“Yes, puppy, you may watch your Mistress touch herself.”
Santana turned her head and shivered at what she saw.
Brittany was lounging back over the arm of the couch, hooded eyes trained on Santana, hand deep in her panties, lazily dragging her fingers through her own wetness.
She touched her clit and arched up into her own hand. The black silk strained against her hand.
“Oh god, puppy, that feels so good.”
Santana whimpered.
Brittany’s fingers worked her clit and she moaned and arched and tossed her head and Santana was so overcome, she didn’t even know where to look. Brittany’s body was arching and writhing so frantically, that Santana was afraid she’d flip herself over the arm of the couch. Finally, she stretched and tensed, hissing “yes, puppy, yes!” and shuddering one final time.
Santana’s mouth was hanging open, her chest heaving, her knuckles white.
She seriously couldn’t take much more.
Grinning lazily, Brittany stood up and stretched, wiping her hand on Santana’s inner thigh. Santana shivered.
Without a word, Brittany exchanged the dvds once again and grinned at her puppy.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
___
It was dark.
Santana had lost count of the movies they’d watched together and after every single one, Brittany had somehow gotten off, either making Santana lick her until she came or watch her touch herself. During each movie, Brittany had fondled and caressed and teased Santana’s thighs, breasts, and neck.
Not once during the entire endeavor had Brittany touched Santana there or kissed her anywhere at all.
She was in such a haze by the time Brittany shut off the t.v. and softly commanded “up” that she could barely tell what was going on. Her entire body hummed with a sensitivity that she’d never experienced before; she almost felt stoned.
She’d become so wet over the past several hours that Brittany had taken a moment here and there to wipe gently at her thighs with the towel and rearrange the material before continuing with the next film. She even had to raise Santana up and lay a fresh towel beneath her once.
When Santana finally pulled herself up to obey Brittany’s command, the room spun maddeningly around her and she nearly toppled. Brittany waited for her to steady herself before leading her to the stairs.
“Can you climb the stairs, puppy?” she asked softly.
Dumbly, Santana nodded. With each step she became more hyper aware of the need between her legs, the buzzing in her body. She was soaked with sweat and her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
She didn’t see the hallway as she stumbled down it in the dark, led by her Mistress.
She felt herself being laid tenderly across the bed. Brittany rearranged her, scooting her to the middle of the bed, strong hands running down arms and legs, stretching them out. Through her haze she lost sight of Brittany. Was their room always this foggy?
The next sensation she felt was Brittany’s naked body lying softly on top of hers, wordless whispers in her ear.
“It’s time, puppy,” Brittany said.
When Brittany’s mouth finally closed on her neck, Santana felt fire. She had pushed herself down into nothingness in order to cope with being denied a release for hours, and Brittany’s lips were so foreign, so in opposition to the pattern, that she hardly knew what to make of this new feeling. The heat of Brittany’s mouth roaming her neck, of Brittany’s naked body covering her own shocked her out of her haze and she shook violently, arching, writhing.
Santana was panicking.
“Shhh,” Brittany whispered.
But Santana couldn’t hear. There were lights and rushing and a giant, breathstealing wave that knocked her down, rolled her and tossed her.
She couldn’t hear Brittany. She couldn’t hear herself.
She’d retreated so deep within herself that the only thing she could do was feel.
A hot, wet mouth on her neck. Sucking. Kissing. Loving and devoted. Naked breasts sliding against hers. Brittany’s skin. Brittany’s sweat.
Hands, everywhere.
Brittany was finally touching her.
And everywhere she touched, Santana burned.
And every time she burned, she thrashed, cried out.
The kissing stopped. Everything stopped. She felt strong hands on her shoulders.
“Santana.”
She was rolling, falling. There nothing beneath her. She was freezing and burning simultaneously. She clutched at something fiercely. She was drowning.
“Santana, look at me.”
There was something she needed to remember. Something important. Something....
“Santana Lopez, open your eyes this instant and look at me!”
Brittany’s voice was like a rope. Santana clutched at it, clung to it desperately. And Brittany hauled her up.
Brown eyes fluttered open.
Brittany was lying there, looking down into Santana’s face. Loving, worried. Tender hands stroked Santana’s hair.
“Hey,” Santana mumbled weakly, and Brittany laughed softly, biting her lip.
“Hey,” she whispered back. “Where... Santana? Where were you?”
Santana just shook her head. There were tears in the back of her throat and she just couldn’t find a way to communicate.
“Baby?” Brittany’s voice was the softest Santana had ever heard it. “Are you okay? What do you need from me right now? How-”
The tears shook themselves loose, and Santana broke.
“Britt!” she sobbed, choking, her body wracking violently.
Brittany pulled her up into a hug, rocking her back and forth. “Shhh, baby. San, I’m right here. Shhhhh.”
She pressed a chaste kiss to Santana’s lips and stroked her hair.
Santana clung to Brittany, her face pressed into her neck, and Brittany held her. Here, she was loved. Here, she was safe.
When her sobs quieted to shaky breaths, Brittany said, “San, talk to me. What happened?”
“I don’t know, Britt,” Santana answered honestly.
“Did I ... hurt you?”
Santana pulled back for the first time and studied her partner. “No, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not ... hurt.” She let herself drop back to the bed and Brittany followed, draping her arm over Santana’s chest and tracing her thumb lightly over a bronze shoulder. “I’m not entirely sure what happened. I - I kind of ... lost myself?”
“Okay.” Brittany tried to understand, tried to process. There was nothing but the sound of their mingled breathing. “You scared me,” she finally said in a tiny voice.
Instinctively, Santana’s arm tightened around Brittany’s shoulder.
“Britt, baby, no.” Deep breath. “I love you. I love what you give me. I’m just ... I’m trying to figure it out myself, I guess. It’s a lot of new emotions, you know?”
Brittany was silent for a long time before she said, “I don’t want to play like this again if it’s going to do this to you.” There was a finality in her voice and Santana’s chest tightened in panic.
She lay very still, thinking, feeling, trying to sort and deal with all of these new feelings. The one thing that seemed certain was that she did not want to lose this fantasy because of her inability to navigate this new role of submissive.
“Please, Britt,” Santana finally said. “Please don’t take this away from me yet. Not until we at least try to figure it out. Did you have a good time today?”
Brittany stiffened. “That’s not - That doesn’t seem-” Shaky breath. “Whether I had a ‘good time’ today is completely irrelevant if it’s something that’s going to hurt you.” She sounded angry. Brittany never sounded angry.
“No, I get that,” Santana said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, if we can figure this out, did you enjoy today enough to continue?”
Brittany thought. “That’s a big if, Santana.”
“Humor me.”
Quietly, “Yes.”
Okay. Good. “Okay, so let’s not be rash. I got a little lost in my head for a minute. You brought me back. We’re learning.”
There was a long pause before Brittany whispered, “If we go too far and you get hurt, I’ll never be okay with that.”
This time, it was Santana’s turn to shush and comfort. She cradled Brittany, hummed in her ear.
“We’re okay. Hey Britt? We’re okay. Let’s deal with this later and just be together right now. Okay?”
Brittany nodded. “Do you... Are you sleepy?”
Santana laughed, a full-blown, outright belly laugh. “You’re kidding, right? Jesus, Britt, you’ve had me so fucking keyed up all day long.”
Brittany grinned. “So. What do you need, baby? Tell me.”
Santana turned serious instantly. “Just make love to me tonight?”
Brittany nodded, pulled her lover closer.
She was on top of Santana again, kissing full lips tenderly. “San?”
“Mmmm?”
“I’m so in love with you.”
Kiss.
“Say it again.”
Kiss.
“I love you, Santana Lopez.”
Kiss.
Brittany trailed kisses down Santana’s jaw and sucked lightly on her neck.
“Again,” Santana said.
“I love you.”
Santana rubbed her hands along Brittany’s back, pulling her closer. “I love you too, Britt.” And then Brittany’s hands were between their bodies, cupping, caressing, loving. And then she lost the ability to speak once again as Brittany hesitantly touched her clit.
Santana hissed, arched violently off the bed, and Brittany clutched around her shoulder to steady herself. Brittany didn’t move, just kept her finger lightly touching Santana’s clit.
“San,” Brittany breathed. “You feel amazing. You’ve never felt like this before.”
“God, I’ve never been so ridiculously sensitive. Don’t stop, just - Just go slow.”
“As you wish,” Brittany whispered and Santana smiled into her hair. God, she loved this woman.
Brittany’s touches were light, gentle. Even when Santana cried out, begging for more, Brittany chose caresses instead of frantic touches.
A heat unfurled in Santana’s belly and she rose up, rolling her hips to meet Brittany’s hand, reveling in the kisses pressed to her lips, her neck, her breasts.
Brittany worshipped her body until Santana came apart, crying Brittany’s name and holding on desperately to her lover.
Brittany held her and kissed her until she came back down, and they settled in together, wrapped in one another’s bodies.
“Britt, baby?”
“Mhmm?”
“Thank you for today.”
Brittany responded by pulling Santana closer to her and running a hand through her hair.
As Santana drifted off to sleep, the thought crossed her mind that she’d never felt more loved in her life.
Fandom: Glee: Brittana (Brittany Pierce /Santana Lopez)
Disclaimer: I do not own or mean to offend. Making no money.
Spoilers: None.
Warning: This fic is rated M or NC-17, depending on where you be. Rating for language, sexytimes, and some drug usage. Very light dom/sub play.
Summary: Santana is a derby girl and gets in her head to ask Brittany to dominate her. Beginning of a dom/sub relationship. This is my first try at Brittana, so I hope I do them justice. This chapter involves a lot of firsts. Teasing, orgasm denial, the watching of porn, the first time San dives into sub space, and very very fleeting ass play (blink and you'll miss it).
Feedback is love.
A/N: This chapter is like nothing I've ever written before. There are a lot of intense themes and some kink stuff that I haven't previously attempted. I realize that kink isn't everyone's cuppa tea, and I tried to treat it as artistically as possible. That said, if it's not your bag, apologies all around. Hopefully most readers have already anticipated that this is the direction this fic is going. Still nothing super crazy. Just... heavier? Hope you enjoy.
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
Chapter Five - Test
Brittany had paused the movie again, before it had even started.
“Puppy,” Brittany said. “Look at me.” Santana complied, saw love and support and ... what was it? concern? “Today is going to be a test for you, puppy,” Brittany continued softly. “It’s about endurance. This is the first time we’ve done this, and it’ll be ... tough. You need to prepare yourself mentally. Emotionally.” Brittany caressed Santana’s cheek. “Do you understand?”
Mentally, Santana Lopez could handle absolutely anything. But she had no idea how to prepare herself emotionally. What does that even mean? But here was Brittany, warning her, preparing her. Caring for her. What else could she possibly ask for?
Hesitantly, Santana nodded, and Brittany patted her thigh. “Good girl,” she said, and started the movie one last time.
___
Santana made it through the film, shifting her weight from side to side to alleviate the pressure on her tender skin for as long as she could. She’d never really been much for watching porn, but under the circumstances watching two hot naked women together while sitting next to her Mistress was making her feel extremely horny. Every few minutes, Brittany would reach over and lazily graze a nipple with her fingernail or pull a lock of Santana’s hair, totally engrossed in what was happening on their t.v. and supposedly completely oblivious to Santana, except to toy with her occasionally.
When the film was over, Brittany leaned up and said hotly in Santana’s ear, “Mmmm, puppy, your Mistress liked watching that. Feel how much.” And Brittany’s firm hand encircled a trembling wrist and guided Santana’s to slide through her wetness and skim her clit. Brittany rolled her shoulders, shoving her breasts in Santana’s face, threw her head back and moaned wantonly.
Fuck. Fuck! Eyes. Eyes.
Santana used every ounce of willpower she had to keep her eyes lowered. Her throat was so dry, and she felt herself swallow repeatedly.
Brittany laughed softly and cupped the back of Santana’s neck. “Puppy has learned her lesson from her spanking earlier. That was a test, puppy.” Brittany pressed her mouth to Santana’s ear once again and whispered, “Good girl.”
There was a slow unfurling in Santana’s stomach at Brittany’s praise, and she fought to keep from grinding into the towel. She hadn’t been told she could grind, after all.
“I think such good obedience deserves a reward. Don’t you, puppy?” Brittany continued.
“W-whatever pleases Mistress.” Brown eyes cast downward; barely audible voice. Submissive.
Santana Lopez, derby girl and all around fucking badass, was being submissive.
“Oh, I think this might please me quite a bit,” Brittany murmured and rolled Santana’s nipple between her thumb and finger. Santana said a silent thank you that Brittany’s hand was directly in her line of sight and she sat as still as possible, unable to take her eyes off it.
“Tha-” Fuck! Deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you, Mistress.”
“Mmm. You’re mine. I own you,” Brittany growled and licked Santana’s ear. Santana’s eyes shut tightly and she could not contain the moan that ripped through her. She froze, holding her breath, afraid that Brittany might stop what she was doing and punish her again. Afraid of disappointment. Afraid of another spanking. There was no way she could handle another one so soon. She was soaked, and if Brittany didn’t let her come soon, she had no idea how she’d be able to deal.
Brittany’s grip tightened on the back of Santana’s neck, almost painfully. She nosed into Santana’s hair and responded with a moan to match. “Mmm, puppy, that was hot,” she rumbled. Relieved, Santana released the breath she’d been holding.
Brittany murmured, “I didn’t tell you can’t speak, puppy.” A nip against her collarbone. “Or make noises.” Nip. “Especially moaning.” Nip, this time hard. Santana hissed. “You make me unbelievably wet when you can’t hold back one of your moans.”
She sucked hard over the spot she’d just bitten.
“Here,” Brittany said wickedly. “Feel.”
And she guided Santana’s hand through her wetness once again, this time bucking slightly into Santana’s hand when her fingers touched her clit.
“Ugh, puppy,” she groaned.
Santana felt another rush of wetness. When Brittany held her own fingers in front of her face with her Mistress’s wetness on them, she began to silently beg. Brittany must have seen it on her face.
“Do you have something you want to ask me, puppy?” Brittany’s voice was lower than Santana had ever heard it.
“Please? Mistress.” It was barely a whisper. Shaken. Raw. She needed this. More than she’d ever needed anything in her life. She could smell Brittany on her own fingers, right in front of her. “Please!”
“Please what, puppy?” Brittany coaxed.
“Please, Mistress, may I.... ” oh god “May I taste you?”
The sigh that came out of Brittany’s mouth nearly unhinged Santana, and she stared harder at her dripping fingers.
“Do you want me on your tongue, puppy?”
Oh god, yes! Santana had always loved the way Brittany tasted, but hearing herself ask for it was nearly too much. “Yes, Mistress.”
There was a pause and then - “Beg me.”
Santana faltered. She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was Brittany. Soft, caring, creative Brittany. Her Brittany. Except, no. Not her Brittany. This time, she was Brittany’s Santana.
“Puppy,” Brittany warned coolly. “Look at me and beg me to let you taste me.”
Oh sweet Jesus fuck!
Timidly, Santana raised her eyes and saw wide blue ones watching her with interest, waiting to see what she would do. There was love there, always. And tenderness. And something Santana had never seen before, never felt. Power. She allowed herself to cower under Brittany’s gaze and felt a thrill as she licked her lips and said quietly, “Please let me suck you off my own fingers, Mistress.”
Brittany moaned again then and nodded, watching with hooded eyes as she allowed Santana to bring her fingers to her mouth. The moment she tasted Brittany on her tongue, Santana nearly fainted, she was so aroused.
She sucked hard at her fingers, running her tongue along every inch until she could no longer taste her Mistress there.
When she finished, she looked Brittany in the eye - a luxury for puppy, and she was making the most of it - and said breathily, “Thank you Mistress. You taste amazing.”
Suddenly, Brittany was pushing at the back of Santana’s neck, forcefully. “On your knees,” she commanded, and Santana scrambled off the couch and dropped to her knees so hard she knew there would be bruises there later.
She locked her eyes on the floor in front of her and waited, twisting her hands in front of her. At least she was off her ass again, but she was still uncomfortable, the wetness dripping slowly down the inside of one thigh.
Brittany was in front of her then and for the first time, Santana could smell what she was really doing to her lover. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to bury her nose in Brittany’s panties, but she controlled herself.
Eyes down. Obey. I’m hers.
“Puppy, you may watch.” Eagerly, Santana’s eyes flicked up and saw Brittany’s thumbs edging along the band of her panties before running back and forth teasingly. “Today is about learning how to be patient, puppy. And about pleasing your Mistress before all else.”
Santana nodded dumbly. They’d already shared so many firsts with each other through this game and Santana found herself doubting yet again whether this was actually going to happen.
“Do you know why you’re kneeling in front of me, puppy?” The tantalizing thumbs continued running back and forth, between the edge of Brittany’s panties and her bustier. Santana had a pretty good idea why she was kneeling in front of Brittany, but she didn’t know exactly what response Brittany was looking for, so she just shook her head again, eyes trained on those thumbs and aching for them to pull the silky material down further.
“You’re kneeling, puppy, because I want you to feel what it’s like to serve your Mistress on your knees.”
Santana groaned again, felt Brittany’s hand at the base of her neck, gripping her hair tightly. “You’re going to lick me until I come, puppy.”
Santana barely had time to process Brittany’s insanely hot words. She felt the pull at her neck at the same time Brittany’s hips thrust forward into her, and before she fully realized what was happening, Brittany was grinding against her.
Santana didn’t realize how aroused she really was until her senses were completely blocked out. The first thing she noticed was how incredibly wet Brittany was. Like, really wet. A filmy gloss was spread over the outside of Brittany’s panties and when she ground her hips into Santana’s mouth, it coated her lips.
“Oh my god,” Santana groaned, pushing her face harder into Brittany. “Oh my fucking god. You’re so wet.” A half a beat later, she had the foggy presence of mind to add “Mistress.”
Brittany was just making incoherent noises now, grinding harder and gripping Santana’s hair forcefully.
“Mistress,” Santana begged, her voice muffled in Brittany’s wetness. “Please, Mistress!”
Brittany slowed but didn’t stop. “Yes, puppy,” she granted, her voice ragged. Santana could tell she was close, just that fast. Jesus, Britt’s really into this.
“Mistress, may I touch you? Please!” Santana knew how she sounded. It was a new level of desperation for her, but it felt oddly normal inside of her own head, and once she breached it that first time, it was a cloak she knew she’d want to drape around herself again and again.
It felt really good to be that vulnerable with Brittany.
“Yes, puppy.” Brittany bucked. “Touch me!” And Santana was amazed at the parallel desperation in Brittany’s voice. A different sound, a companion to Santana’s own. But a desperation, all the same.
She needed no further goading.
She raised her hands to Brittany’s ass and clutched, jerking her Mistress’s hips harder into her face. When she heard Brittany’s cry, felt the grip in her hair tighten, the force in Brittany’s grind, she lost her control and bit down through the panties.
“Yes,” Brittany hissed, and then Santana could stand it no longer. She jerked the black silk down over Brittany’s hips, squeezed the smooth skin of Brittany’s ass and plunged her tongue against Brittany’s clit, licking furiously.
Brittany was very flexible and when she arched her back, Santana instinctively tightened her grip, supporting her weight.
The sounds coming out of Brittany’s mouth were otherworldly, guttural and secret, a language Santana was pleased that she alone had the privilege to hear. She couldn’t help herself; she pressed one finger between Brittany’s cheeks and ran it up, following the crease all the way to Brittany’s lower back.
Brittany gave a strangled cry, pushed herself hard against Santana’s tongue one last time and went rigid, Santana holding her and slowing her licks until Brittany fell out of her haze and loosened her muscles once again.
She took a shaky step back, and Santana brought the back of her hand across her mouth, wiping and watching Brittany.
Her knees were killing her, her legs shaking uncontrollably.
Brittany just stared back at her, and Santana wondered what she was thinking. Her bustier was heaving, her hair shocked wildly about her face. Her black silk panties slung around her thighs.
Brittany never looked so beautiful.
The look on Brittany’s face (whatever it meant) faded and Santana’s Mistress bent once again, pulling her panties back into place. “Mmmm, puppy,” she cooed. “That was very good.” She traced her index finger under Santana’s chin and held it up in front of her. “Stay,” she commanded, whirled away, and Santana was left kneeling and naked, Brittany’s wetness on her face, her own arousal throbbing between her legs, shaking and buzzing and spinning.
She’d never felt like this in her life, and she was loving every minute of it.
When Brittany returned a few minutes later, Santana felt like she might be ready to faint. Brittany guided her back to the couch.
“Sit,” she said and then went to tend to the t.v. once again.
At the sound of heavy panting coming from the speakers, Santana felt her eyes widen.
“Eyes up, puppy,” Brittany commanded, and Santana was surprised to see two completely different women on the t.v. screen, making out heatedly and grinding against one another.
“Mistress?” Santana’s voice cracked.
Brittany did not respond. She just dropped back into her place beside her puppy and lazily draped one leg over Santana’s knee, tracing a random pattern on the side of her puppy’s breast. Santana’s breath hitched.
Surely she couldn’t take watching another one while Brittany teased her.
The women on the screen slowly kissed and sucked at each other, taking their time stripping each other of their clothes. By the time they were lying on the bed fingering each other, Brittany had graduated back to toying with Santana’s nipple, and Santana felt like she might snap.
“Puppy.” Pinch, squeeze, roll. “You seem on edge.” Squeeze, pull. “Your legs are clenched together so tightly.” Pinch, roll. Brittany scraped a nail over Santana’s nipple, and Santana gasped, back arching without her consent. Her hands were clenched at her thighs and she prayed silently that Brittany would at least switch to the other nipple. She felt positively raw.
The top woman on t.v. was riding the bottom mercilessly.
“Spread,” Brittany said, tapping Santana’s thigh.
Santana felt the relief wash over her, and she silently thanked all the gods that ever were as she gently spread her legs.
To her surprise, Brittany did not stop toying with her nipple.
The women on t.v. thrashed and bucked and cried out in pleasure, and Santana dripped on the couch. When it ended, she sat stunned, her legs still spread.
She heard a slick squish sound next to her and then,
“Ungh, god, puppy.”
What? Oh god...
Brittany was touching herself.
“Puppy,” Brittany breathed. “That second movie got me all worked up again.”
Oh god oh god oh god oh god.
“Would you like to watch, puppy?”
Santana needed to come like she’d never needed to come before, but she couldn’t help the furiously nod or the heavy breathing or the clenched fists. God, yes, she wanted to watch Brittany touch herself.
Brittany chuckled. “You’ll have to do better than that, puppy, if you really want it. You know how much I like it when you beg.” A single smooth finger traced coyly up the inside of Santana’s thigh, and she nearly clamped her legs back together. Brittany had left a trail of her own juices up Santana’s thigh.
Pleasegodpleasegodpleasegodplease.
“Please, Mistress, may I ... watch?”
“Yes, puppy, you may watch your Mistress touch herself.”
Santana turned her head and shivered at what she saw.
Brittany was lounging back over the arm of the couch, hooded eyes trained on Santana, hand deep in her panties, lazily dragging her fingers through her own wetness.
She touched her clit and arched up into her own hand. The black silk strained against her hand.
“Oh god, puppy, that feels so good.”
Santana whimpered.
Brittany’s fingers worked her clit and she moaned and arched and tossed her head and Santana was so overcome, she didn’t even know where to look. Brittany’s body was arching and writhing so frantically, that Santana was afraid she’d flip herself over the arm of the couch. Finally, she stretched and tensed, hissing “yes, puppy, yes!” and shuddering one final time.
Santana’s mouth was hanging open, her chest heaving, her knuckles white.
She seriously couldn’t take much more.
Grinning lazily, Brittany stood up and stretched, wiping her hand on Santana’s inner thigh. Santana shivered.
Without a word, Brittany exchanged the dvds once again and grinned at her puppy.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
___
It was dark.
Santana had lost count of the movies they’d watched together and after every single one, Brittany had somehow gotten off, either making Santana lick her until she came or watch her touch herself. During each movie, Brittany had fondled and caressed and teased Santana’s thighs, breasts, and neck.
Not once during the entire endeavor had Brittany touched Santana there or kissed her anywhere at all.
She was in such a haze by the time Brittany shut off the t.v. and softly commanded “up” that she could barely tell what was going on. Her entire body hummed with a sensitivity that she’d never experienced before; she almost felt stoned.
She’d become so wet over the past several hours that Brittany had taken a moment here and there to wipe gently at her thighs with the towel and rearrange the material before continuing with the next film. She even had to raise Santana up and lay a fresh towel beneath her once.
When Santana finally pulled herself up to obey Brittany’s command, the room spun maddeningly around her and she nearly toppled. Brittany waited for her to steady herself before leading her to the stairs.
“Can you climb the stairs, puppy?” she asked softly.
Dumbly, Santana nodded. With each step she became more hyper aware of the need between her legs, the buzzing in her body. She was soaked with sweat and her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
She didn’t see the hallway as she stumbled down it in the dark, led by her Mistress.
She felt herself being laid tenderly across the bed. Brittany rearranged her, scooting her to the middle of the bed, strong hands running down arms and legs, stretching them out. Through her haze she lost sight of Brittany. Was their room always this foggy?
The next sensation she felt was Brittany’s naked body lying softly on top of hers, wordless whispers in her ear.
“It’s time, puppy,” Brittany said.
When Brittany’s mouth finally closed on her neck, Santana felt fire. She had pushed herself down into nothingness in order to cope with being denied a release for hours, and Brittany’s lips were so foreign, so in opposition to the pattern, that she hardly knew what to make of this new feeling. The heat of Brittany’s mouth roaming her neck, of Brittany’s naked body covering her own shocked her out of her haze and she shook violently, arching, writhing.
Santana was panicking.
“Shhh,” Brittany whispered.
But Santana couldn’t hear. There were lights and rushing and a giant, breathstealing wave that knocked her down, rolled her and tossed her.
She couldn’t hear Brittany. She couldn’t hear herself.
She’d retreated so deep within herself that the only thing she could do was feel.
A hot, wet mouth on her neck. Sucking. Kissing. Loving and devoted. Naked breasts sliding against hers. Brittany’s skin. Brittany’s sweat.
Hands, everywhere.
Brittany was finally touching her.
And everywhere she touched, Santana burned.
And every time she burned, she thrashed, cried out.
The kissing stopped. Everything stopped. She felt strong hands on her shoulders.
“Santana.”
She was rolling, falling. There nothing beneath her. She was freezing and burning simultaneously. She clutched at something fiercely. She was drowning.
“Santana, look at me.”
There was something she needed to remember. Something important. Something....
“Santana Lopez, open your eyes this instant and look at me!”
Brittany’s voice was like a rope. Santana clutched at it, clung to it desperately. And Brittany hauled her up.
Brown eyes fluttered open.
Brittany was lying there, looking down into Santana’s face. Loving, worried. Tender hands stroked Santana’s hair.
“Hey,” Santana mumbled weakly, and Brittany laughed softly, biting her lip.
“Hey,” she whispered back. “Where... Santana? Where were you?”
Santana just shook her head. There were tears in the back of her throat and she just couldn’t find a way to communicate.
“Baby?” Brittany’s voice was the softest Santana had ever heard it. “Are you okay? What do you need from me right now? How-”
The tears shook themselves loose, and Santana broke.
“Britt!” she sobbed, choking, her body wracking violently.
Brittany pulled her up into a hug, rocking her back and forth. “Shhh, baby. San, I’m right here. Shhhhh.”
She pressed a chaste kiss to Santana’s lips and stroked her hair.
Santana clung to Brittany, her face pressed into her neck, and Brittany held her. Here, she was loved. Here, she was safe.
When her sobs quieted to shaky breaths, Brittany said, “San, talk to me. What happened?”
“I don’t know, Britt,” Santana answered honestly.
“Did I ... hurt you?”
Santana pulled back for the first time and studied her partner. “No, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not ... hurt.” She let herself drop back to the bed and Brittany followed, draping her arm over Santana’s chest and tracing her thumb lightly over a bronze shoulder. “I’m not entirely sure what happened. I - I kind of ... lost myself?”
“Okay.” Brittany tried to understand, tried to process. There was nothing but the sound of their mingled breathing. “You scared me,” she finally said in a tiny voice.
Instinctively, Santana’s arm tightened around Brittany’s shoulder.
“Britt, baby, no.” Deep breath. “I love you. I love what you give me. I’m just ... I’m trying to figure it out myself, I guess. It’s a lot of new emotions, you know?”
Brittany was silent for a long time before she said, “I don’t want to play like this again if it’s going to do this to you.” There was a finality in her voice and Santana’s chest tightened in panic.
She lay very still, thinking, feeling, trying to sort and deal with all of these new feelings. The one thing that seemed certain was that she did not want to lose this fantasy because of her inability to navigate this new role of submissive.
“Please, Britt,” Santana finally said. “Please don’t take this away from me yet. Not until we at least try to figure it out. Did you have a good time today?”
Brittany stiffened. “That’s not - That doesn’t seem-” Shaky breath. “Whether I had a ‘good time’ today is completely irrelevant if it’s something that’s going to hurt you.” She sounded angry. Brittany never sounded angry.
“No, I get that,” Santana said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, if we can figure this out, did you enjoy today enough to continue?”
Brittany thought. “That’s a big if, Santana.”
“Humor me.”
Quietly, “Yes.”
Okay. Good. “Okay, so let’s not be rash. I got a little lost in my head for a minute. You brought me back. We’re learning.”
There was a long pause before Brittany whispered, “If we go too far and you get hurt, I’ll never be okay with that.”
This time, it was Santana’s turn to shush and comfort. She cradled Brittany, hummed in her ear.
“We’re okay. Hey Britt? We’re okay. Let’s deal with this later and just be together right now. Okay?”
Brittany nodded. “Do you... Are you sleepy?”
Santana laughed, a full-blown, outright belly laugh. “You’re kidding, right? Jesus, Britt, you’ve had me so fucking keyed up all day long.”
Brittany grinned. “So. What do you need, baby? Tell me.”
Santana turned serious instantly. “Just make love to me tonight?”
Brittany nodded, pulled her lover closer.
She was on top of Santana again, kissing full lips tenderly. “San?”
“Mmmm?”
“I’m so in love with you.”
Kiss.
“Say it again.”
Kiss.
“I love you, Santana Lopez.”
Kiss.
Brittany trailed kisses down Santana’s jaw and sucked lightly on her neck.
“Again,” Santana said.
“I love you.”
Santana rubbed her hands along Brittany’s back, pulling her closer. “I love you too, Britt.” And then Brittany’s hands were between their bodies, cupping, caressing, loving. And then she lost the ability to speak once again as Brittany hesitantly touched her clit.
Santana hissed, arched violently off the bed, and Brittany clutched around her shoulder to steady herself. Brittany didn’t move, just kept her finger lightly touching Santana’s clit.
“San,” Brittany breathed. “You feel amazing. You’ve never felt like this before.”
“God, I’ve never been so ridiculously sensitive. Don’t stop, just - Just go slow.”
“As you wish,” Brittany whispered and Santana smiled into her hair. God, she loved this woman.
Brittany’s touches were light, gentle. Even when Santana cried out, begging for more, Brittany chose caresses instead of frantic touches.
A heat unfurled in Santana’s belly and she rose up, rolling her hips to meet Brittany’s hand, reveling in the kisses pressed to her lips, her neck, her breasts.
Brittany worshipped her body until Santana came apart, crying Brittany’s name and holding on desperately to her lover.
Brittany held her and kissed her until she came back down, and they settled in together, wrapped in one another’s bodies.
“Britt, baby?”
“Mhmm?”
“Thank you for today.”
Brittany responded by pulling Santana closer to her and running a hand through her hair.
As Santana drifted off to sleep, the thought crossed her mind that she’d never felt more loved in her life.