~~~Amanda~~~~
The precinct bathroom is cool compared to the suffocating humidity that seems to clog the squad room outside and I breathe it in sharply. Maybe it was just my own mind playing tricks on me, but I couldn't stand another fucking second of being in such a stiff, professional atmosphere… All those people looking at me, talking to me… I felt like I was crawling in my own skin...
My heart is racing with relief as I find the small room empty, leaving me mercifully alone. I rush into one of the stalls and slam the door shut, rattling the entire structure. I lean against it, pressing my sweating forehead to the cool, metal door.
My self control is hanging on by bare threads. I can feel each tiny fiber snapping slowly, one after the other.
Get it together. Come on.
I press my forehead against the door again, lightly, although what I really want to do is slam my brain into the unyielding surface, if only to escape these thoughts.
It's been barely ten hours since I was lying across the bed in Olivia's bedroom, stretched out and tied down for what seemed like hours. Ten hours, and all I can remember is the way she stood over me or leaned against me, the way she punished me relentlessly…. God, the way she touched me…
Everything within me had wanted to break, but I just couldn't. I couldn't shatter into pieces and watch her pick them up one by one. I couldn't because I don't trust myself to be that vulnerable and I don't trust someone else to be so reliable and devoted. Even after all of the times that I've allowed myself to spiral into the safety of her arms, I've never thought that I could let her break me completely.
But I know one thing about Olivia that won't fail and that is her determination.
I swallow hard against encroaching tears as I tap my forehead against the door once more.
She's not going to let me out of this one no matter how much I fight, no matter how much I curse and kick and scream. She will force me over that bed for the rest of my miserable existence if that is what it takes, but I know in my heart that I would never last so long, and I'm fucking terrified. My body is aching still, and my strength of will struggling to recover.
It's been ten hours and I throb for her still.
"God…" I groan, quietly, feeling tears prick at my eyes.
I've never believed in a higher power, but this wretched desire inside me makes me wish for some gracious being to relieve me of my suffering.
I'm so fucking terrified, but my agony doesn't end there. It ends in the distant throb between my legs, at the very crux of my being where my body aches hotly, remembering the touch of her fingers inside me. The whisper of her voice haunts my most wanton parts.
You're not going to come…. You're not going to even think about touching yourself when you're alone….
But, Jesus Christ, have I thought.
I've spent every waking moment thinking of when I can earn the blessed touch of her hand again, and when I began to realize the way I must break in order to do so, I imagine disobeying her again. Illicit fantasies of fucking myself raw in mere rebellion pulverize my brain, encouraging me to ignore the consequences that I have barely escaped.
If only she could look inside my head right now she wouldn't hesitate to punish me for my wrongdoings.
Pushing away from the door, I turn about in the tiny stall, running my fingers through my hair. I try to breathe, clenching locks of hair tightly in my fists, enticing pain to burn into my scalp.
"Jesus, fuck…" I rasp, leaning my back against the door.
My knees are quivering, and my heart is knocking. Arousal chugs thick and hot through my bloodstream, invading my thoughts even as I try desperately to right them.
My clothing seems to scrape across my flesh and I can feel my wetness soaking through my panties from simply considering masturbation and the subsequent release.
Tilting my head back, I let my hands slide from hair as I gaze across the ceiling tiles. They seem to twirl in my vision and I clench my eyes shut, pushing against my urges.
I've already been inside the bathroom for a good five minutes, and I should be leaving already. I should be enduring the agony of the work day instead of remaining here in the inviting arms of temptation… But I just can't seem to force my legs to follow the desperate commands of my brain.
I open my eyes and glance down at my body, panting with every dull throb that passes through me. I lift a trembling hand, sucking in a breath as I touch my belt buckle. The cool metal is sharp against the heat of my flesh and push my thumb against the leather. My other hand rises slowly, pulling back the lip in one rigid motion. The belt releases and I let husky gasp as the button of my jeans stares back at me, begging to me.
"Fuck…" I murmur.
I ignore the warning sirens blaring through my head in exchange for the heady call of my body, pleading for release. I move faster, suddenly, tearing at the button, dragging the zipper down with quaking fingers. It's good enough.
My stomach seizes with pleasure as I push my fingers beneath the waistband of my panties, plunging my hand into the hot alcove beneath my pants.
"Ohhh…" My voice rises, echoing sharply against the bathroom walls as my fingers brush my clitoris.
I bite down on my lip, pressing my mouth shut against further urges to vocalize as I shove my hand deeper. My fingers dip into the wetness soaking my panties before curling up against my labia. I want to gasp at how slick I am, but I clench my jaw tight, dragging my fingers through the abundance of moisture.
Heavy breaths blast through my nostrils and I can hear my own heart pounding in my ears. My oversensitized body is already screaming for relief and I know it is right there in the power of my own fingertips.
I press my fingers up against my clit, rubbing directly over the engorged flesh. I need it quick and hard, before my bathroom solace is invaded or I come to my own senses, although the latter is highly unlikely.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I work my hand quickly beneath my pants, my entire body straining for the orgasm as each torturous second passes. It's so close. Each touch is like fire, every circle threatening to push me to the edge.
A sudden creak cracks my concentration, jarring a gasp from my mouth. The sound of the door opening fully dawns upon me, but I can't seem to move fast enough as I try to yank my hand from beneath my panties. My watch gets caught on the waistband and I can feel myself panicking.
Click… click...click…
The sound of a pair of heeled boots hitting the tile floor crashes against my ears as I manage to extricate my hand. My fingers are trembling so hard that I can barely pull up the zipper on my jeans.
I'm fumbling with the button and the belt when a quick rap of knuckles on the stall door brings my motions to a shocked halt. I can hear my heartbeat banging against my ears, choking my throat. A sick feeling erupts in the pit of my stomach and I know I should be pulling my clothes together, arranging my face into an innocent facade… but I just can't fucking move.
"Amanda…" Olivia's voice cuts sharply across my senses.
Oh, god….The thought trails through my mind as my lids flutter shut. No, it can't be….
She knocks again, jarring my eyes open. I can see her fingers curl over the top of the door, ready to pull it open when I turn the lock. I consider never opening it, but that presents an entirely new set of problems. If I refuse to come out, I'm already suspicious, but, god, she might already know. Either way, I can't spend the rest of the day locked in the bathroom.
I reach out a quavering hand, and turn the lock slowly, my stomach swimming with apprehension.
The door swings open, guided by her hand.
Her body fills the frame and the look in her eyes makes me want to sink into the ground and cease to exist. Staring back at her, I think she must already know what I was doing.
She steps forward, crowding into my space, suffocating me with smell of her perfume, the mere aura of her presence. I step back, but there isn't many places to go into my tiny prison of lust.
She eases the door shut behind us, locking us in together.
When she turns, her eyes are dark in the shadows of the stall and I can feel her picking me apart with her very gaze, digging beneath the surface of my skin to my very soul.
"Give me your hand." She murmurs, her voice low but firm.
I shudder, pressing myself back against the wall. I can feel tears burning in my eyes and I press them shut, determined not to cry at the simple request.
"Amanda." She says, her tone warning.
"I'm sorry." I moan, covering my face with both palms.
I feel her fingers wrap around my wrist, almost gentle and I let her take my hand. I turn my face away, gulping back tears as she takes my fingers and brings them to nose. I want to rip my hand away, to hide the evidence of my pleasure from her, but it's already too late.
"You were touching yourself." She states, her tone even on the surface, but I can sense her anger and disappointment lying just beneath the surface.
"I'm sorry." I repeat, feeling a tear streak down my cheek.
"Did you come?" She asks, stiffly.
"No…" I whisper, my cheeks flushing sharply.
She releases my wrist and I pull my arm back quickly, cradling my hand against my chest as if her fingers have burned me. I can barely look up at her because I know what I'll see in her gaze, and it makes me feel so horrible inside to do this to her.
"Turn around." She says at last, her voice low.
"What?" I whisper, my body jolting at her implication.
I finally glance up at her with wide eyes, hoping to find some error in what I had heard, but the dark set of her brows and lips don't lie. I know what she wants.
"I said turn around." She motions towards the wall, "Right now."
"B-but…" I choke out, cowering against the wall. "You can't be serious."
She takes a half step closer to me, her eyes narrowed as she says, "If you can touch yourself in here I can most certainly punish you in here."
My eyes dart around the tiny stall, but I know there isn't a way out. There is no choice in this situation but to comply. Fighting will only produce and even bigger chance of drawing someone else's attention.
At last, I turn slowly, my limbs numb. My mind is racing, humiliation burgeoning up from inside me, but a part of me knows how much I deserve this.
I press my hands against the cold tile as she steps up behind me and begins to open the buckle and button that I had barely managed to close but a minute ago. I can hardly breathe as she yanks my pants and underwear down to my thighs, leaving my ass bare to her eyes and her touch.
My flesh is still tender and swollen from the night before and I know that any kind of punishment is going to hurt much worse than it normally would. I pray that she won't rip my own belt from me and lash me with it, though we both know it wouldn't be beyond the necessary discipline.
She grabs my arm, pulling her close to me so that her mouth is next to my ear.
"This is going to be a reminder," She whispers in a low tone, "Tonight… when we're alone… will be the real punishment."
Her threat brings sharp tears to my eyes and I bite back a pitiful moan. She's not going to have mercy on me for even half a second and extending myself into hysterics will only worsen my situation.
Her palm strikes me, suddenly and hard, causing me to bite my lip. I arch against the wall, swallowing back a cry as the pain reignites across old wounds. It stings sharply as if she has already laid a dozen or more across my tender flesh.
Breathing heavily, I try to remain still. After last night, my desire to fight her is hanging by a string and right now, I'd rather have the torture of her touching me than the torture of her absence.
Her fingers flex around my bicep, pulling me close as she spanks me again.
"Nnnnggg…." I can't hold back the low moan that filters through my lips but she doesn't quiet me. Instead, she strikes me again, harder. I arch rigidly against the wall, my fingers scraping over the grooves in the smooth tile as I balance on my toes to escape the burning sensation.
She pulls me back again, her grip harsh and unyielding as she lays a fourth smack on top of my bruised flesh.
I try to hold back my soft cries, but each smarting slap jars another from throat, humiliating me even further. My face is flushed and hot with embarrassment and I wish I could just escape, but her strong fingers hold me grounded. Even when I squeeze my eyes shut, I can't drift away from this moment.
She says nothing as she holds me steady for a fifth, stinging punishment. Unlike last night, she is silent, but the power of that reticent anger shakes me more deeply than anything she could've said.
Her hand falls faster and harder causing me to writhe against the wall after each biting lick of her hand, but she never lets me go far. Her sharp, steady breathing accompanies me through each swat as does the grip of her fingers at my arm.
My swirling mind counts somewhere between ten and fifteen spankings before the bathroom falls silent. For a long moment, neither of us move and the only sound is my halting sniffles and gasps.
Finally, she pulls me around, her gaze burning me. Spanking me doesn't seem to have dulled the wrath simmering just beneath the carefully placed veneer of control and my stomach swan dives at the thought of spending the rest of the day knowing that punishment is coming.
"Don't make me do that ever again." She says, her tone low and steady.
She releases my arm and turns about, her long, dark hair whipping about her shoulders as she yanks the stall door open and marches towards the exit.
A moment later the door slams behind her, leaving me quaking and alone, my backside humming with dull pain. Her sweet citrus scent lingers in the air about me, joining the emotion in my throat to choke me.
Tears sting my eyes sharply, humiliation throbbing gently in my cheeks and chest.
My hands tremble as I pull my pants up slowly. The buttons and buckle swim in my vision as I manage to dress myself completely before sinking to the closed toilet.
Covering my face in my hands, I feel the emotion swell like an incoming tide through my chest and throat. My shoulders quake as I try desperately to hold in the insistent tears, but soon my choked cries echo softly back at me.
If I wasn't ready to break before, maybe I am now. Maybe I'm breaking in this moment without her here to even comfort me. The very through sends a harder shudder through my body, pushing a fresh deluge of tears to my eyes.
It occurs to me slowly that she was right all along. This devastating, overwhelming emotion has been gliding just beneath the surface and now she's wrenched it to the light of day. All that is left to do is trust her to take me the rest of the way, and maybe there was never any other choice.
I don't need orders to direct me through the gates at the front of Olivia's apartment, nor a guide to lead me down the hall and to the door. The entrance gapes back at me like magnetic oracle.
I don't need her to tell me what to do, but a trembling piece of me almost desires the low rasp of her voice in my ear and the unyielding grip of her fingers on my body.
I'm so close after hours of torturous waiting, watching the clock, biding time…. I've spent the last eight hours in agony, my mind constantly turning with twisted fantasies of what will become of me once night falls. My stomach has ached and turned for every minute of the day while somewhere down below a simmering desire waits to explode.
My fingers are cold and trembling as I reach the door. I know it will be open. It's always open when she's waiting for me. She will make me come to her, walk all the way to the bedroom and undress in front of her…just watching with those unrelenting, dark eyes.
Swallowing against thick saliva, I squeeze the doorknob in my trembling fist, turning it slowly.
My stomach swoops and dives, my heart knocking against my ribs as I push inside.
It's dark but I know the layout well.
Closing the door behind me, I lean up against it for a long moment as my eyes adjust to the dark.
I can hear my breath rushing loudly in the silence, filling my ears with the sound of desperation. A whimper wants to escape my mouth at the very thoughts of my fate and clench my teeth against the accompanying tears. I can't cry already.
Pushing away from the door, I head towards the bedroom, winding my way around the recliner and into the hallway. The door is slightly ajar, inviting me with a soft light.
I know I'm safe here, but the very thought of walking willingly into that room and accepting what she wants to do to me scares the hell out of me.
Swallowing once more, I take slow steps towards the door, my knees quaking. My fingers skim over the door, pushing it open slightly.
The room yawns in front of me, dark aside from the lamp on the bedside table. The bed is neat, the covers turned back, waiting for me.
I clench my hands into fists as I enter, passing over the threshold in one uneasy step.
My eyes find her in the shadows, sitting in the same chair as last night. Half of her face is hidden in the darkness, but her eyes sear me, no matter the distance or lighting. Her elbows are propped on the arms of the chair, her knees spread a foot apart. My breath catches as my eyes detect the glimmer of leather in the light, dangling from her fingers. The snake like strap lays across her thighs, gentle enough to anyone's gaze but mine.
I stand just inside the doorway, frozen, barely breathing.
For a long moment, we look at each other and I know she's waiting for me to move, to do as I know she wants.
At last, she sits forward slightly and her voices cut across the room.
"Amanda, you know what to do."
I press my eyes closed, suck in a trembling breath. Tears, that bastard friend of mine, rise close to the surface.
"Take off your pants." She murmurs, softer now.
I don't need her to tell me, but, god, the assurance of her voice is all I want.
Lowering my head, I uncurl my fingers and move the stiffened extremities to the front of my pants. I dressed simply, just to avoid the over complication of undressing that I know would only serve to humiliate me further.
In one quick yank, I'm naked from the waist down, trembling and vulnerable to her eyes.
I can barely glance up at her, but I see her brows rise slightly at my lack of underwear, but I can also detect the approval in her eyes.
"Take them all the way off." She orders, motioning to the pants crumpled around my ankles and shoes.
Breathing irregularly, I push my shoes off with my toes and kick away the pants. At this point, I can obey without too much hesitation… I can still pretend that I'm in this room for her pleasure...I can push the punishment towards the back of my mind…
I hear her rise from the chair and walk towards me slowly and I stare at the ground. My eyes burn into the carpet pattern, my stomach churning a knot up into my throat.
"Look at me." Her voice rattles my senses.
I bite down on my lip, conjuring the will to lift my chin just a couple of inches, but I can already feel tears flooding to my ducts.
"Amanda." She murmurs, touching my jaw.
I huff out a quivering breath, and barely glance up at her for half a second.
"You need to look me." She says, her voice firm.
Her fingers at my jaw tighten, pushing my face upwards despite my resistance. The intensity of her eyes meet mine, far too close for me to be able to withstand.
"I want you to know I've thought about this for a long time." She begins, her eyes never leaving mine.
A sob threatens deep in my chest and I suck my lower lip into my mouth, begging myself to have self control for one fucking second.
"And I also want you to know that I'm very disappointed...I didn't withhold pleasure from you to push you into other avenues of gratification. I wanted to make you come to me."
Her brow furrows and I can see the disappointment and anguish I've caused her lying just inside the windows of her eyes and my heart squeezes sharply. I thought I had suffered the most today, but perhaps I was mistaken.
"I want you to trust me." She murmurs, her clenched fingers loosening from jaw to slide up into my hair. "When you're in need… I want you to find yourself here, but I want you to also trust me to find that need before you find it yourself."
I try to look away, to hide the tears blurring my vision, but she drags me back with a hand at my cheek.
"Don't look away from me."
I blink quickly, feeling tears escaping from the corners of my eyes even as I try to suck them down. I manage to look at her, but the emotions in her eyes makes me want to crumple down into nothing. I am so far from deserving her devotion.
"I know you think this is going to be quick and hard." She murmurs, her tone low and even. "But I don't think that's appropriate."
My stomach twists sharply at her words, apprehension cutting quick through my chest. Immediately, my mind is racing, my pulse thrumming quick and shallow in my neck.
What are you going to do? The words don't make it off my tongue.
She let's go of my face and her palm slides down my arm, gripping my elbow. My legs feel wooden as she pulls me back towards the chair. Once we're within two feet of it, she releases me and sits back down.
"Turn around." She motions with one long finger.
My heart thuds dully in my ears and I can feel the hot flush of humiliated arousal reaching my groin. Despite the apprehension swirling in my tummy, I know that whatever she has planned will destroy me emotionally and physically.
I turn slowly, feeling both numb and oversensitized. The room stretches out in front of me, and I immediately realize the sharp desire to see her. I groan inwardly, knowing I gave up so many chances but a moment ago to look into her eyes, gaze upon her beautiful face and now I will have to do with the dull landscape of walls and carpet.
"Now…." She says slowly, "Kneel."
Oh god…..
I press my eyes shut, fighting against wave after wave of embarrassment and resistance. A part of me wants to run from this room while I rest lunges towards the floor, ready to spread myself out for her.
"Do it now or I'll start with the belt right away." Her tone is promising and I don't doubt her.
My legs tremble as I lower myself to the floor, finding the carpet stiff beneath my knees. The submissive position burns me, but I just keep my eyes closed, try to hold myself together.
Silence hangs between for a long moment before she delivers another damning command.
"Bend over….I want your face on the floor."
"Olivia…" Her name twists from lips, an automatic plea.
The pieces of me that want to obey her are stretching thin and the strain of it forces another rush of tears to my eyes. I want her so much, but I know my own selfish desires have pushed us here. My utter fuck up and the ensuing consequences, however, doesn't exactly knead compliance into my stiff body. My languishing, conceding thoughts from the bathroom in the aftermath of the spanking are but a fleeting memory in the face of degradation.
"I want you to obey." She responds, sharply, "No questions… No negotiating."
A cry bursts from my lips and I hang my head, staring desperately at the blurry, tilting floor beneath me.
She wants things from me that I've never given to anyone. She wants me to free fall, but I can't.
"Amanda…" She says, slowly, her tone warning.
"Why don't you just do it?!" I burst out in a sob, throwing out my quivering hands.
My heart races in my chest, my face and neck throbbing with the force of my distress.
"You're questioning me again." Her voice rises and I flinch at the frustration lining her tone.
I hear her breath out, a low steady sound and I cover in my face in my hands, trying rub the tears from cheeks even as more spill from my lids.
"I want you to bend over." She repeats in a slow, precise tone and I can just imagine the way her brows are furled and the sharp set of her lips and jaw.
I pant, breathing around choking emotion as I will my body to either obey or to fight, but I'm caught somewhere in the middle.
I hear her push up from the chair and I instinctively turn towards her as her boots hit the floor, distinct and angry, rattling into the floorboards beneath the carpet.
She looms over me, her face shadowed with disappointment and frustration, something I've seen far too much of the in the past 24 hours.
"Get up." She snaps, firmly taking my arm.
Why can't you just fucking do it? I berate myself as I pull myself up from the floor, miserable tears streaking down my cheeks.
She pulls me sharply against her, her breath rushing over my lips like a phantom caress, but her next touch isn't so tender.
She spanks me without preamble, her hand striking across my flesh, unremorseful. I cry out, jarring away from her, but her grip is strong, unyielding. Tears are quick to rush down my cheeks, although I'm not sure the pain is so much physical as it is emotional.
"I told you not to make me do this again." Her voice is biting beneath the huskiness of her tone, cutting the guilt deep into my chest.
With her fingers taut about my arm she spanks me again, the power of her hand resonating through layers of my skin, setting my bones on fire. She doesn't hesitate to brand me over and over and each one falls like the hammer of judgment upon me, threatening to split me in two.
My hips arch and squirm as if to escape, but there is no where to go and she won't let me me stray far.
I've hardly taken ten when the emotion rips louder from my throat, releasing in a strangled cry. Utter frustration and pain push me to yank against her, but my helpless blubbering makes the display more pathetic than anything.
Her hand stills but she doesn't release me. She silently watches me, her fingers tightening with each pull of my arm against her.
I know she's waiting for me to break and the uselessness of this expended emotion makes collapse come even quicker. I sag against her, panting and sweating, tears trailing down my cheeks and neck. My futile cries of resistance dwindle into nothing more than whimpers.
"Are you done?" She asks.
Short sniffles and cries trail from my lips and I nod slowly, my chin dragging against my chest.
"Good." She murmurs, her hand sliding down my arm slowly. "Get back down on the floor."
I sink immediately, my trembling knees giving way. The floor greets me and I fall to my hands and knees, hunched over. My hair tumbles over my shoulders and around my face, a curtain for my shame.
"All the way down." She encourages softly.
My elbows collapse against the carpet and I lie my head down, pressing my forehead into the ground. Tears slide down my nose, melding into the carpet fibers.
She has me where she wants now and I can feel the stray thread of my dignity and resistance snapping beneath the pressure. I want to break beneath the bittersweet guidance of her hand but I know that means surrendering my self control and nothing has ever terrified me more.
"That's good." She murmurs, her footsteps softening as she steps away from me.
I can hear the creak of the chair as she takes a seat again, directly behind me. My cheeks flush hot in the cradle of my arms as I feel the burn of her eyes over my exposed flesh and privates, everything laid bare to her. As strangely erotic as the sensation is, I can't help my clench my thighs together, arching away from the vulnerable position she's put me in.
"Don't hide from me." Her voice washes over my ears, singeing my flesh and causing me to whimper.
Another wave of tears clenches my throat and I try to suck it back but I can hear the pathetic noises slipping from my throat as the long seconds pass. Each tick of the clock grates across my senses, reminding me that I have already spent countless hours today agonizing over the impending punishment and the fact that she would drag it out even longer now terrorizes my brain.
"How do you feel?"
The inquiry is gentle, but I can't take it as anything other than one more jab to myself control and humiliated state of mind. I can hear myself panting rapidly, the blood rushing in my ears as I struggle to maintain some semblance of control.
"Amanda…"
"Peaches!" I burst out, sobs immediately choking me.
Emotion I've withheld from myself collides in my chest, wrenching sobs from my throat as I scramble off the floor, my legs trembling like gelatin.
"Amanda." I hear her concerned tone as she rushes up from the chair, her motions much quicker than my tripping and stumbling.
I feel her grab onto me but I flail, shoving her away.
"I said peaches!" I nearly scream as I spin around to face her.
I'm sure I look like a mess, sweating, flushed and puffy from crying….like shit.
"Amanda." She touches my arms gently, though I know she wants clench my flesh into the unyielding grip of her hands. Her face is taut with concern, her copper eyes wide, pupils pulsing.
"I heard you…" She whispers, attempting to pull me in. "I hear you…"
"I don't want to be here." I sob, yanking away once more to snatch my pants from the ground. "Just let me go."
"Amanda, you need to let me perform aftercare." Her voice is soft but firm, and would've typically broken through my hysterics but my only focus right now is to get away from this bedroom, away from the terrifying possibilities that lie within.
"I don't have to do anything." I pant, trembling as I shove my feet into the pant legs, uncoordinated.
"You don't need to leave." She insists, although she doesn't touch me again. "I know you're scared…"
I shake my head, barely finding a voice to answer her as I button my pants and shove my feet into my shoes, but I don't use the last of my strength to form a response.
"Amanda…" She murmurs, and I can hear the strain in her voice now. "You're safe here, remember?"
"No…" I sniffle, shaking my head once more. "I just need to go right now. Please don't stop me."
I turn away from her glistening amber eyes before she sucks me back in and I charge towards the door. Blind with fear, I'm on the sidewalk before I can even comprehend making it through the apartment and front door. The cool night air kisses my flesh, drying my tears as I take myself as far as I can get from the apartment, and away from the threat of trust and surrender.
