Don't Be Shy 23

Lena’s fingers loosened. They came out of her hair, but they seemed to linger on its softness. “Do you need lubrication?”

Kara could’ve laughed. Her body felt like a dam holding back an entire ocean that had somehow gotten inside her. “After that?”

Lena undid the shirt button at her collar, then the one under it. She walked around the bed, each step a jagged little hit. Her shoes, she still had her shoes on… I’m naked, I’m tied up, and I’m going to be fucked by someone who could be at a business meeting. Is it any wonder Lena thinks of me as a whore?

Suddenly—no foreplay, no little comments—Lena reached between Kara’s legs and touched her clit. Kara crooned. Lena’s touch was direct, unerring. She fondled the little button almost roughly, a spark of pleasure so forced and unexpected that it hurt. Kara gasped in a sort of agony, her body hyperactive, ready for the pain to become something else. When the contact dwindled, Kara panted, wanting it back. She knew she could like it, had been liking it. The leather at her wrists creaked as she pulled at it.

“There’s a nub,” Lena said, “on the harness of the strap-on. While I’m fucking you, it will be doing that to me. That’s all you’re here for. To make me feel that on my clit. I don’t care what it does to you—if it hurts, if it feels good, if it makes you come. This is to please me, not you. I want to hear from you is harder, harder, harder.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Kara breathed.

Lena’s hands gripped Kara’s hips firmly, flipped her over onto her back, her bound hands underneath her. Kara could now look up and see Lena standing over her, the strap-on protruding from her loins. Jet-black lunging out from her light gray slacks. And Lena’s eyes. The sharpest shade of green Kara had ever seen. Tracing up and down her naked body—Kara felt as if there’d never been any color to her until now, and Lena’s eyes were painting her with it, making her have the lightly bronzed tan that she’d never really had before, the pink little nipples, the tuft of golden hair at her crotch…

She put her hand on the curve of Kara’s hip and squeezed, thumb digging down to her hipbone, fingers traipsing along the sweep of her flank. Kara’s eyes closed. Her head drifted back. Foreplay. It was agonizing. She was so ready to be fucked… needed to be filled so badly… Lena had made her want it desperately, but she wanted this too. To be touched, to be felt, to just be looked at with the awe that struck her from Lena’s flaming green eyes…

Lena moved the finger of that hand to the lowest of Kara’s ribs and ran it along her abs. Kara giggled, ticklish, and Lena’s eyes registered enjoyment with how sensitive she was.

“I’m going to use a riding crop,” she said, swishing her finger back and forth over and a little to the right of Kara’s belly button. “I’ll put a pretty little welt right here. It’ll maybe… only just show up when you wear a belly shirt.” Her finger petted a narrow strip of skin as if feeling it already. Over and over. “I’m going to kiss it and lick it and touch it, because whenever I feel it, I’ll know this beautiful body is mine to put whatever mark I like on it.”

“M-mistress…”

Lena’s eyes flickered down. Kara felt them on her cunt like the faintest touch of leather. “You’re actually clenching, Kara. Do you want to wear my leather kiss on you?”

“I…” The thought of it was sick, though. Kara felt nauseous at the realization that she’d actually wanted—it would hurt, she couldn’t enjoy—and being Lena’s, actually belonging to her—but her body was about to come and Lena had barely touched her, just told her what would happen. “I don’t know, Mistress.”

“Then why are you here, Kara? Why, when you’ve had every opportunity to back away, are you still playing?”

Kara blinked slowly. Lena wasn’t asking, she told herself. It was part of the game, it was the character, it was how fucking horny she was… it wasn’t her, not all her. “To be yours, Mistress.”

Lena stopped touching the streak of well-fondled skin on her belly. “Don’t say things like that unless—never mind—I shouldn’t have asked.”

Lena moved her hand to the bedspread beside Kara; her other hand to the other side of Kara’s body. She lowered herself to all fours on the bed, padding over Kara’s body. The fabric of her suit brushed against Kara. So did the strap-on she wore, Lena deliberately dropping her hips low so that Kara felt the dildo working its way up her legs, finally thudding between them. She thought she could feel her own warm saliva, now transferred to the toy Lena had brought to bear on her cunt.

“You’re here to be fucked, Danvers. You’re paid to be fucked. And I’m going to get my money’s worth if it takes all night.”

Kara’s head swam. She felt like she’d had too much to drink. Lena was so close to her and her mistress wanted her so much… she saw Lena’s body trembling, muscles corded, her eyes on fire as they scoured Kara’s face for every last little expression she made. Kara knew she couldn’t hide anything from her mistress. All her fear, all her anticipation, all her need—it was written all over her features. And Lena drank it in like fine wine.

She traced her forefinger—Kara imagined it warm from her own body and Lena’s little fantasy of a riding crop, but of course she had her own warmth, even if she seemed so chilly—along Kara’s mouth and the lipstick strewn haphazardly by the blowjob.

“Don’t try to hide how it makes you feel. I want to see it,” Lena told her. “And don’t try to act either. I know you’ll like this. I also know it’ll hurt. What I want to see is how much it hurts and how much you like it.”

Kara couldn’t say anything. She was breathless. The only words that came to mind were please be gentle, like she’d told Lena on their first night together, but she didn’t want that now. So there was nothing to say.

She wrapped her lips around Lena’s forefinger and sucked on it. Just like she had Lena’s cock.

Lena’s eyes smiled. “I should’ve played with your cunt a little. Then you’d really be enjoying how that tastes.”

She put her hand on Kara’s shoulder, pinning her down. Her other hand went down to the strap-on. She held it up against Kara’s slit, the tip so unbelievably hard, and blunt… a big, hard, fist of a thing that was nevertheless going to pierce into her, be inside her, take up the core of her. Kara’s breath whistled out of her. Her throat felt tight and narrow, like she was being choked. With the way Lena was perched on top of her, she felt like she could end up throttled. It didn’t diminish her arousal. Lena’s eyes were still on her, searching her face, feeding passion into her body like a drug… rewarding every tiny expression on Kara’s face with a dose of interest that went deeper than the strap-on could possibly reach.

Lena brushed a lock of hair off of Kara’s forehead. Then she was in her and there was no hiding. Kara’s back arched, her breathing hitched. She twisted her head to the side, letting out a moan, but Lena’s hand was at her chin, turning her so that she was facing forward again, facing Lena.

“You’re going to let me see,” Lena told her.

The strap-on went further in… another few inches sheathed in a holster that was meant to take it, that had to take it, but felt—not wrong, never wrong, but so unready for all that had to be inside it now. The response and the heat and the sheer hardened size inside her, demanding all of Kara’s space to accommodate it. Kara felt the tension wrack her face, her expression… Lena’s eyes devouring it… she was hot, sweaty, flushed, she could only imagine how she looked to Lena… Lena scrutinizing her… watching how her lips parted, her eyes bugged, her every little feeling became huge on her face as the dildo shifted in another inch, and another, and another…

Kara felt a sudden burst of shame. Lena wasn’t just fucking her, she was getting off on… on what a whore she’d turned Kara into. Kara clamped her lips shut, she forced her eyes to Lena’s—not rolling up into her skull.

Lena cocked her head to the side. She stopped feeding the dildo into Kara. Then, slowly, deliberately, her eyes meeting Kara’s the entire time—she pushed inch after inch into Kara. Inch after inch filling her, spreading her, making her stretch like she hadn’t in a long time, maybe never.

“Six inches,” Lena breathed, stopping, watching the panic blossom in Kara’s eyes. The only thing worse than more was not enough; even if Kara didn’t want the penetration to keep going until it hurt, she didn’t want it to stop either. “That should be enough for a good little girl like you. That’s as much as most men have. You don’t want more, do you? You’re not actually such a slut that you need even more?”

“F-fuck,” was all Kara could say. She couldn’t help herself. Her eyes slipped up into her head, unable to take the combination of the look Lena was giving her and the feel of the strap-on deep inside, pressuring that spot with its sheer size. “I’m so close, I just need—need…”

“I know what you need,” Lena purred, sweaty hands ghosting down Kara’s body, relishing their ownership, until she came to where Kara was splayed open.

Nimble fingers tweaked her clit, pinched it, twisted it, then stroked it—thumb and forefinger rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, making her cunt a riot of motion, walls convulsing around the thick hardness, delighting in having something so big and stiff to rebound against. Lena’s touch was good on its own, but feeling it when her cock was inside Kara had her maddeningly aroused, ecstatic, wishing Lena would move and wishing for all of that oversized toy she’d somehow once feared…

“Ask for it,” Lena said, her fingers easing off just a little, just a bit less pressure, but that made all the difference. Her climax had been filling Kara up, hard and fast, but now it was slowing down and Kara needed it, Lena, even needed to say the words. Like a person at the bottom of the ocean would need air.

“Please may I come, Mistress?”

Lena’s eyes flared above the mask. She needed something too; Kara didn’t know quite what it was, but she knew she could give it to her. “Say you're a slut.”

“I'm a slut, Mistress.” Kara trilled the words and Lena’s fingers tightened, a slow slide of the pad of her finger along her humming clit.

“And?” Lena asked, digging her fingernail into the little bundle of nerves.

“I'm a dirty slut who needs to come,” Kara whined, a fresh gale of sweat covering her face. “I need to come so bad, I’m such a slut, such a dirty slut, don’t deserve—don’t deserve to be fucked as hard as you fuck me, MISTRESS, your dirty slut…”

Lena dragged her fingernail all the way along the length of her clit—her hips twitched—the dildo moved a half-inch inside her and Kara squeezed her eyes shut, unable to take all of it. Her screaming clit, the strap-on, the look in Lena’s eyes. But she still saw that ferocious glare as she came, shaking, screaming, too high to know if it was Lena’s name she was crying or just the raw sound of need being met.