Don't Be Shy 29

Lena breezed into her bedroom. Her back to Kara, she opened her bathrobe and shrugged it off. Kara felt a dryness in the back of her throat and knew it would end up feeling like she’d swallowed the Sahara desert if it went unchecked. Lena’s slender back, her creamy skin with trickles of dark hair running down her shoulders as she unwound the towel from about her face and replaced it with the mask, straightened out her hair, made a ponytail of it, and all while she was naked, wet and naked, the lines of her body having the pristine beauty of a cloud on a summer day.

She was thin but hardly boyish. Just the right amount of curves: delicately slender at her throat, her shoulders, her waist, but that knifing narrowness was leavened with contours at her hips, her bust—even with Lena’s back turned, Kara could see the outsides of her plumps breasts, their jellied quiver when she turned her body at the waist to pick up her nightgown. It was all as pristine, as precise, as perfect as Lena herself. Kara couldn’t imagine an inch less or more at any place on her body. Even her hair was cut to just the right amount: a tantalizing hint that slicked down her swanning neck and pulled at her lissome back, helping the eye down her sleekness to the swell of her buttocks. God, Kara could understand why she was so interested in anal sex. Who wouldn’t be, with an ass like that? She ran her hands down her own body, feeling how her hips surged as they became her ass. She… might’ve had more broadness than Lena’s neatly packaged body. What little fat there was, proving her not an aesthete, was stored in exactly the right places—it all seemed so deliberate, like the composition of a painstakingly rendered portrait. Anything more voluptuous would be… gauche.

Lena pulled on the nightgown. It fluttered about her shoulders, crawled down her back, finally settled around her thighs. Kara about moaned. She’d gotten too good a look at Lena’s body not to want to see more. And Lena stood there, still facing away, her gown like a gray haze over her body. Showing the shape of it, the loveliness of it, but denying Kara the full effect. It made her feel like she was seeing the Mona Lisa through tissue paper. Her pussy throbbed.

Down, girl, Kara thought, squeezing her thighs together and trying to limit the arousal she’d let go way, way too far. She was supposed to be worried about Lena, not wanting to run her hands through that thick gloaming of glossy black hair, all of it the gorgeous shade of a cool winter night.

“How are you feeling?” she ventured, worried now that Lena would find it suspicious how long she’d been gawked at with no show of concern.

“Better,” Lena announced, tugging her nightgown down and into place, wiggling her hips to work the folds out until it was a sheath about her lissome body. “I think I’m going to take a brisk nap, perhaps put further work off into—”

Kara wasn’t listening. She was feeling her panties’ hold on her cunt like they were being ground into her labia. God, people weren’t supposed to get this aroused. They just weren’t.

“Kara, do you remember when I told you I’d like to sleep with you hog-tied by my bed?”

That, naturally, got through to Kara: “Yeah?” she said, really, truly surprised at how aroused she still was.

Lena turned around. Her cleavage, offered under a lacy fretwork that topped her nightgown, seemed like a dessert of just the right proportions. Anymore would be a gluttonous. Unartistic, which was one thing Lena could never be.

“I realize that particular fantasy is not very compatible with the realities of the human body. I’d like to try something else and… Christ, just look at you. Your eyes are so… you’re like a puppy and I’m holding a treat.”

Kara squelched a denial. She didn’t have it in her to lie so vehemently. “Thanks?”

“I don’t want to explain it all to you—there’s no fun in that—but I don’t want to spring it on you and risk you not liking it. So what I’ve decided to do is to tell you what I want. You’re going to do as I say. If you don’t want to or something makes you uncomfortable, you can stop, I can explain…” Lena tightened her right hand into a fist, like the thought was distressing, but she didn’t want it to be distressing. “I have a present for you. Let’s start there. I got you a present.”

“If you’re sure you’re up for it?” Kara asked, a little pleadingly.

She felt like one of those lotto balls, bounced around before it was selected. She was turned on by Lena. She wanted Lena to mistress her… dom her, was the sick fuck word for it, she knew now as a professional sick fuck.

Kara wasn’t at all sure she wanted to be turned on. And she was concerned about Lena, but should she be concerned more? Want to fuck her less? She wanted her friend to be okay, obviously, more than she wanted to come—her body really wanted to come, though. She probably shouldn’t have committed Lena’s ass to genetic memory if she didn’t want to be turned on and desperate to orgasm.

“Do you want my gift?” Lena asked, and Kara knew she was asking much the same thing Kara was asking herself. Was this too much? Too much in this way, too much in that way, just too much?

It seemed like it should be, in at least one direction, but Kara’s body seized the mic—she nodded.

Lena tilted her head down and Kara knew that, under the mask, her smile was one of relief. For such a controlled woman, Lena’s body language was very easy to read, as soon as you got to know her.

“Good. Because I really want to see you in it.”

Jesus, if Lena had bought her a cage, how in the hell was Kara supposed to ask her if she’d kept the receipt?

***

Lena hadn’t had time to arrange for a more suitable box. She handed Kara tiny cardboard thing from Amazon. It said ‘Ahh, another excellent choice!” on the side. Kara wondered if there’d ever been a time when that kind of cloying corpo-sentimentality could’ve ruined the mood for her and Lena. If there was, it was far in the past.

She opened up the box. Inside was a leather collar, thick and sturdy. Kara’s name printed on it in chrome studs.

“Jesus,” Kara said.

“You can put it on if you want to,” Lena said. Her eyes bore into Kara’s throat, tracing the swath of skin that would feel the collar’s embrace. Kara could’ve laughed; she was reminded of a teenage boy looking at a girl in a bikini, willing her top to come off. Of course, Lena had seen her naked plenty. What excited her was what Kara would put on…

Kara picked up the collar. The feel of the leather, just in her hands, reminded her of the first night Lena had taken her. Supple leather, strong and yet lavish to the touch, binding her wrists. Caging her and titillating her at the same time. Bound up like that, she’d been so excited—it wasn’t being tied that let Lena have her, it was the thrill of being totally vulnerable. She could’ve ripped apart that length of leather before she managed to fight off her arousal enough to want Lena to stop.

Kara wound the leather around her throat. Cool, almost too cool… no, her skin was just warm. She fiddled with the buckle. She’d unthinkingly wrapped it so that the buckle went together at the back of her neck. Lena moved in to help her. When she grasped the collar, Kara heard Lena gasp sharply.

That first night, with her wrists tied, Lena’d gotten everything she wanted from her. But Kara had gotten something from her too. Taken it, by submission. Lena had given her a loss of control, a reaching out, a wildness that Kara didn’t think anyone else got to see, much less experience. And now it was hers again. Lena had done up the buckle—she tested the collar, wiggling two fingers under its width to make sure it wasn’t too tight on Kara. Those fingers slithered away, leaving nothing for Kara to feel but the leather, riding hard on the rushing beat of her pulse.

“I have more for you,” Lena said—her fingers brushed against Kara’s wrist, then were gone. Kara followed, even without Lena holding her hand, pulling her along. The collar was like a hand on her throat, forcing her down a path she wanted to go down, but so fast that she nearly flew.