Isn't It Romantic update

It’d been a few days. Felicity had thought about it. More than thought about it—it felt like she’d lived it, not thinking of anything else, her life and work suffering as she struggled to get her overloaded mind to take a side. Every argument for and against Laurel’s offer bounced back and forth in her skull, never being settled, only submerging and reemerging in an endless boil. 

She supposed there was a kind of poetic irony to how it all resolved, which she was far too STEM to appreciate. She’d gotten so into her own head that she’d finally needed to masturbate just to try and clear her mind, and when she did, all she could think about was Sara. And not her on the salmon ladder, or in the Canary costume that made her tits perfect, but as Thea’s bitch. As Laurel’s bitch. 

And it was hard not to think they didn’t deserve her, that they were just using her, which was the whole point Felicity supposed, what Sara wanted. And anyway, Thea and Laurel were both awesome, they wouldn’t take advantage of Sara so to speak, just give her what she wanted. But still. 

Felicity couldn’t help but think that if it were her being some kind of hell-for-leather mistress, she would be doing it all for Sara, not to sate her own needs. It didn’t even matter if all the spanking and ass-fucking and those perfect tits got her off, because what she wanted was to give Sara everything she craved. And if that was some degrading, domineering, S&M shit…

Felicity didn’t know if she should be more nervous or less. Now when she went into the loft where she guessed Laurel and Sara and Felicity were all living together, she knew for sure what was going on, what everything she’d heard meant, there was none of the ambiguity and awkwardness that usually tormented her. No, she was being tortured by all new things. Whether she could really try to be the anal slut Sara had been. If she could top Sara like she craved. She’d just have to try by doing—if that was even grammatically correct.

Laurel got the door for her; she’d barely begun to knock. This time, thankfully, Laurel wasn’t wearing something as glamorous as Old Hollywood—Felicity didn’t think she’d be able to see that kind of elegance again without remembering it as part of Laurel’s dominance. Instead, she wore the simple, chic, professional wear she could have on at the DA’s office. She might have even just come from there: a star print blouse lightly caressing her chest, a high slit midi skirt in midnight blue showing one of the long, limber legs she shared with her sister. And she was wearing the heels again. Louboutins.

“Felicity. You made it,” Laurel cooed, giving Felicity a genuine smile that still seemed somewhat intimidating. Felicity didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the noble, warm, heroic friend that she knew also being some kind of… sadomasochistic love god. Sure, it was just what she did behind closed doors, and Felicity had become aware of a lot of closed doors in Star City, but…

It was Laurel. Her friend. Laurel wouldn’t harm her, she just wanted to… enjoy her. Share in her. Do things with her that Felicity actually wanted to do. Why was that so intimidating?

“I did,” Felicity said, giving a nod that made her feel like a bobblehead. “I, uh—I wanted to be your bitch.”

Laurel blinked. Apparently she hadn’t expected so little wheedling. Felicity hadn’t expected it to pop out either. But she’d been wanting to say it ever since she’d watched Sara take two cocks in her ass and love every minute of it. She couldn’t keep wanting it so much without something giving.

Then Laurel fixed Felicity with a glare, her eyes cold, her lips set in a sneer. “Do you?” she asked.

She might as well have put on a costume and a mask. She was a different person now. Not Laurel, but the mistress who had taken Sara’s ass. And Felicity knew what she wanted.

She got down on her knees. “Please, Mistress Laurel. Please let me be your bitch like Sara is. Please fuck my ass and my pussy and my mouth like you do hers. I know she comes so hard when you dominate her and I want that, I want to come hard like she does. You’re a good mistress and if I give you my body, you’ll take care of it better than me—give me orders—make me come like I can’t do myself. And I’ll do whatever you want. I know I’m not worthy, not good enough, but I’ll do whatever you ask of me, do anything if it means obeying you. I’ll kiss your feet, Mistress. I’ll eat your pussy. I’ll lick your ass. And I’ll let you do whatever you want with me, no matter how much it hurts or how scary it is. I saw how good it was for Sara. If she can trust you—be a good bitch for you—so can I. Please, Mistress. Please say I’m good enough for you to use me?”

Laurel grinned widely. The real Laurel peeking out from behind the dominatrix. “Jesus. You waited way too long to come here. You’re about ready to burst, aren’t you?”

Felicity nodded frantically. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore. Momma’s gonna take good care of you. I’m not even gonna make you eat my pussy. First, we need to take the edge off. Slow things way down.” Laurel stooped down so she was at eye level with the kneeling Felicity. “How would you like Sara to eat you out, huh? Make you come? You don’t have to worry about serving your mistress right now—just put on a show for me. I want to see my cute little bitch gush.”