Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
Fair warning. This is more or less just smut. Angsty smut, though. I was in the mood. Don't judge! I can see that look you're giving me-
It's fairly hard for me these days to get into the right mind-set for writing, especially the stuff I try to write for a more serious story. But I have to write something or I think I'll simply go nuts one of these days, since my life is not so very challenging at the moment, and I spend too much time working, which is dull, and too little time, uhm, playing, by that I mean everything apart from work that would add a little fun and spice to my life...
2.
To other people, it would be nothing. Just a little twist in a game as old as mankind itself. Nothing to even think much about. Not even considered remotely kinky anymore these days. A smirk, a raised eyebrow, a throaty chuckle, and 'let's get it on'.
To Sofia, it meant everything. It would be an expression of absolute trust in another human being. She'd done her share of imaginative things in bed, but never that. It was where she drew her personal line.
Her state of exhaustion couldn't be further from her mind at this moment, when she went through her closet and picked out two soft, silken scarves, ones that must have been a present from someone some time, since she'd never worn them, they just weren't her style. But she'd kept them still. Out of courtesy or something, when she could have given them to good will along with the plastic bag with discarded clothes in the basement. But she kept them. Not aware of the meaning they could obtain one day.
Today.
Sara though was absolutely aware of what exactly it was Sofia would be asking of her the second she realised what it was that the blonde held so precariously between slightly trembling fingers.
And she immediately realised, that if the blonde was to make such a great deal of it, there was something she did not yet completely understand about her girlfriend, something that needed to be talked about, among so many other things obviously. (Cos she'd been there, done that. No big deal. Fun. She'd never given it a second thought. It was not about giving something up for her, it was just about sex.)
But Sofia didn't just start shaking like that. The Sofia she'd gotten to know didn't look so hesitant, didn't avert her eyes that much, didn't take such careful, slow, short steps, Didn't appear so bashful, excited and yet immensely afraid all at the same time.
Feeling the weight of the responsibility, and the trust being put into her hands along with those scarves, to hold and to treat with respect and utmost care, Sara almost faltered, almost took a step to the side, arguing that their bond didn't include that just yet, that she was too afraid herself that she'd make a mistake, that she'd do or say something to betray the faith displayed, when she actually started to think about it. But she held herself tall, thinking that that was the least that was being expected of her right now.
She took a long, hard look at the woman standing in front of her. Blue eyes begged her to just go through with it. They revealed that Sofia felt she'd needed this for a long time, yet there had been no one she could have offered herself to like that, ever before. There was burning need, it reflected in the heavy rise and fall of her chest, in the way her fists were clenched at her sides, how she tried breathing through her nose to avoid producing any sound that might seem overly needy, or desperate, or even scared.
Still, Sofia left the decision completely up to her.
It was either manning up, or simply letting go of the fine material, letting it flutter to the ground, a fantasy, a desire extinguished like the licking flame of a candle, put out with just the flick of a wrist.
Not just sex and the enjoyment of someone else's hands on your body, whereever they want them, without you being able to do anything about it. In a - again - fun way.
This was about control.
Possessing it and letting go of it.
Sara had fought all her life for a semblance of control, for claiming the feeling back that she was the maker and keeper of her destiny, and it lay in her hands alone, not others. She'd succeeded. She was no one's to push around anymore, to bend and tweak, to adjust and form after their will. To put her into a place she didn't belong, never had, whether it was with the violence of words or actions.
She had control over her life, in every aspect, and so had Sofia.
But Sara had to hold on to it, forever, or she'd eventually fall apart.
Sofia needed to let go of it, needed to know that she didn't have to clench it so tightly, that her strengths lay in acknowledging that she was always strong, even in - no, especially in a situation where she would at first feel like all power was taken away from her.
It even was an enormous display of strength for Sofia to ask for this. And how she fortified her wish, right now, while Sara was still arguing with herself over what to do.
"I trust you, Sara."
It took the brunette all of one step to close the gap between Sofia and herself. Suddenly, she just acted, about to do something she'd never done before, act like someone she'd never had to be, so through and through, before.
Anything she did now had to appear effortless, unpracticed, had to come naturally to her, or Sofia would not accept it. Would not be able to relish in it, to feel what she longed to feel, under the hands that now reached around her neck.
"I'm not gonna hurt you. You'll always be safe with me. I'm not gonna do anything you don't want me to. You say you trust me, so trust me fully. You don't need to say anything. You're not to stop me unless you are sure, very sure, that I'm really going too far. You want to belong?" Fingers tugged at her hair, not just yet painfully so, just a bit possessively, fingernails scratched the base of her skull, making her shiver involuntarily. "You don't want to feel what it means to be at someone's mercy, not in the way I have. Believe me, Sofia, you don't. I know what that feels like, in those wrong ways. It's not something you ever want to experience. Particularly not with someone who doesn't share your morals. But I do share them. And I think I understand what you long to feel. Not mercy, but willingly surrendering yourself to someone's love. You made the right decision. I'm not completely sure though if you won't regret it anyway. But it's too late now. I'm gonna make you let go of everything you hold on to so innately. I'm gonna make you beg for letting me take it away from you, your precious sense of control. I'm gonna take you apart and put you back together again, so you will see that it's all been there, all along."
Sara didn't know where exactly the words had come from, or how she'd managed to articulate herself like that, but one look at Sofia's dark blue eyes, and she knew they'd gotten to her girlfriend.
At first Sofia's eyes had widened in shock, then they closed on their own accord, the words washing over her like rain after a long, hot, dusty day out in the desert sun. Whoever it was talking to her like that, it didn't seem like the same person she'd shared her bed with for the past weeks. It was someone else in her place, so much the same and yet the difference was striking, and toying with her. The tension she'd been feeling ever since the diner had grown into an almost unbearable pressure. She'd always had to acknowledge that Sara was effortlessly, even unintentionally sexy, and so unaware of her effect on people. Sometimes even on her. That a single smirk could set Sofia's insides on fire.
Hearing her like that, having her grab her, her hands forcing their way through her hair, pulling her backwards slowly, but with so much intent dared to drive her crazy. Into a state she'd hoped and feared to experience. Sara would not force her into any kind of submission. She just wasn't the type. But even if... She wouldn't have to. Sofia'd go down willingly. She'd get what she'd longed for. In fact, so much more than that.
Internally, Sara wondered whether a certain dark-haired, leather-clad, professional minx would approve of her approach into this very uncharted territory. Her instinctual dive, head-first, into waters so shallow she just couldn't allow herself to question any of her actions, or she'd bump her head and end up floating face down, destroying this precarious teetering along the edge of something she'd never thought she'd do.
How far to go. Clichés, dozens of scenarios she'd seen, heard of, had investigated, had read about ran through her head all at once. Tamer ones as well as harsh and rough ones, far away from anything she'd ever consider doing. Anything that mattered to this moment between them. Still those were on her mind, too. She'd have to revisit these thoughts some time. Most of all that they excited her more than they scared her.
Tilting Sofia's head up so she would finally meet her gaze, open up her eyes again, Sara felt that maybe, she wanted to be just a tad bit rougher than she'd thought she could.
And Sofia saw it the second her eyelids fluttered open.
Her answering, breathed out "Yes..." was drowned in a needful tangle of lips and tongues, clashing teeth and deep moans.
Fingers now pulled painfully hard at the bunched hair between them, breaking the kiss, bending Sofia over backwards, only held by the other hand coming to rest in the small of her back, until the angle was awkward and she could give no further.
"You're beautiful like that."
Sara didn't recognise her own voice. Dark and hoarse, commanding, yet reverential. The buttons at Sofia's Oxford shirt were straining against the pressure, her breasts incased tightly into the material, and Sara yearned for a taste. She raked her teeth across the fabric, searching and immediately finding what she was looking for. Pert, very responsive nipples. She bit and nibbled, and sucked until both bra and shirt were soaked through and Sofia was trembling in her arms.
She let go of the blonde's hair, allowed her to come up to take a much needed breath, shaking, her eyes immediately pleading for her not to stop, and Sara acquiesced, claiming Sofia's mouth again while walking her back towards the bed, already looping one scarf around her left wrist.
Before Sofia knew what had happened, she was tied to the headboard, her wrists bound together with one single band of silk.
"God!" She choked out, testing the strength of the slip-knot, being thankful Sara had still chosen to give her a chance of escape if she decided she needed it, and realised it held her tightly unless she'd pull at the right end.
Stalking around the end of the bed, Sara contemplated her next move before climbing onto the mattress beside Sofia.
Her hand descended to caress the side of Sofia's face. Maybe not rough. Maybe another time. Given the chance...
Not having anticipated such tenderness, Sofia gasped at her lover's touch, leaned into it. A thumb tugged at her lips, parting them slightly, spreading moisture across Sofia's mouth on its way along its lines.
"So willing. So trusting."
Never one to be completely outwitted, Sofia bit the digit. Just to groan at a sudden weight settling on top of her. Sara had straddled her, her hand had slipped down to the blonde's throat, circling it, applying light pressure, yet never completely settling, rather stroking, reverently, adoringly.
"Do you have any idea what it is you're doing to me? Of all the things I'm thinking of doing to you right now?" Sara hissed, bending forward, licking up the side of Sofia's neck, slowly.
A thumb and forefinger clamped down on arteries harder now, hips grinded in circles.
Sofia wheezed. Tried to swallow. Then to yelp. Then slowly the light-headedness crept in. To be gone just as sudden, but heat coiled through her body now, unanticipated. She blinked, trying not to think about what she'd just experienced, albeit very briefly, too much, trying not to acknowledge that she liked this altogether way too much.
The next thing she knew was Sara fumbling with the buckle of her belt, sliding it out of its loops, and it clanked to the floor. The button and zipper were next. Feather-light kisses followed the trail of her pants down and off her legs. Loving, reverent kisses. The kisses of a lover. The kisses of the woman she'd fallen for.
It wasn't hard to let go. To give in to just being touched, kissed, caressed, being undressed without being able to do anything herself.
Once freed of the garment, her legs were spread and tied to the bed-posts as well.
That, she hadn't thought of, and a momentary hint of panic assaulted Sofia fiercely. Not being able to use her hands, that had been included in her fantasy. Not being able to move much at all, not.
'Let go', she told herself. 'Just feel. You wanted this, craved it. Now it's happening. Let it.'
But the kisses returned, and soothed her. From her toes up along her ankles they were scattered, her calves and thighs were tingling from the fluttering of Sara's open mouth all across them, her hips bucked as the brunette reached the junction of her thighs, never strayed too close to any place else. Her panties remained in place and she was at once relieved and frustrated by it.
But Sara cooed as she passed the area. "I can smell you, Sofia. And I'm going to taste you. Later."
Sara had done that before. Talked to her during sex, challenging her, spurring both of them on, and it had turned out to be all she had needed to crash even more deliciously intense over the edge.
So for a second now, she thrashed about the bed. "Do it now!" She remembered demanding, a bit whiningly, so damn ready for more, her head rising off the cushions, her glance deadly.
Sara was off the bed and gone. Immediately.
"Noooo. Fuck! Where're you going? You can't leave me here!"
"I can do whatever I want. Or did you forget?" Came the muffled response from the entrance area. When she heard keys jingling, Sofia froze. Choked. "Don't leave." She whispered into the empty bedroom.
Then Sara stood in the doorframe again. Holding another, darker, thicker scarf.
"I won't walk out on you. Don't forget which words started this. I just don't think I'm done preparing you yet."
She was being blindfolded. And she allowed it, didn't utter a sound. She'd endure anything, if only it ended with Sara's face between her legs. This thought in the darkness surrounding her now sent a jolt of want deep into her stomach. Damn this woman and her mouth and the things she could say and do with it. Damn her relentless tongue and unquenchable thirst for more, always more whenever she had Sofia in that position. Like she didn't even have to breathe.
Sara, Sara didn't just lick a bit, focused on the one thing that would bring Sofia over the edge quickly, like former lovers had. She feasted. She buried herself in the slickness and heat, like she never wanted to come up again, like she would be starving if she didn't take anything and everything Sofia could give, had to offer. She'd draw it out, reducing the blonde to a quivering, hollering, shaking mass, until she'd snap, finally set free, arching off the sheets, and coming harder (this wasn't easy to achieve, or easily admitted, Sofia did have some good sex in the past) than she could consciously remember.
Breathe.
Trying to calm her breathing, Sofia tried to relax back into the comforter and waited for something, anything to happen, sharpening her remaining senses. She guessed what she was hearing was Sara undressing herself. She so wanted to see that. They'd always either wrestled each other out of their clothes quickly, or had undressed in such a hurry she'd never paid any closer attention to the process. Now just the imagination of Sara slowly shedding piece after piece of her clothes right in front of her was further arousing.
She didn't know how long, she had no concept of time anymore, but the next minutes, half hour, hour were spent with her never knowing which spot of her body Sara would touch next, and with what she'd be touched. Her shirt was undone now, her bra dragged underneath her breasts (Sara admonished herself for not having thought of taking it off the blonde before tying her up). Fingers, palms, whole hands, hair, lips, teeth, tongue, everywhere, overwhelming her slowly, but very surely. Suddenly, cold water dropped onto her chest, and Sofia hissed, then a tongue descended, licking the rapidly heating drops off her skin. She started squirming, she couldn't remember to have ever felt her own skin, the reactions of her body to anything so intensely. And Sara hadn't even begun to really tease her. She'd barely ever touched her for longer than a second at the time, had tactically avoided particularly sensitive areas so far.
Then, the coldness of metal at her clavicle. Snapping sounds, and her bra straps were history. Sara cut her underwear right off her body. Along with the bra went her panties, the very same way. The tip of what could only be the scissors trailed down her leg, then up across her stomach, making circles around her nipples, that had hardened almost painfully. They lightly scratched her skin there, lingering, then were used to flick one of them harshly.
Sofia groaned. Sara responded by flinging the tool away, giving in to the temptation of kissing the same area the scissors had just touched.
Fingernails dug into sensitive skin. Drew thin red lines on skin while a skilled tongue toyed with pebbled nipples. Teeth came out to play. The same second Sara bit down, she also rubbed herself across Sofia's thigh, leaving behind a trail of evidence that she was just as turned on as the blonde felt.
The sudden vast amount of skin contact was almost too much. Sofia moaned loudly, tugging at her cuffs. Sara's ministrations increased in intensity. She bit and sucked mercilessly, fully concentrating on Sofia's right breast, while leaving the other completely unattended. She drew the bud into her mouth, clamped down on it with her teeth and flicked her tongue across the tip in rapid succession.
Sofia started of the bed, yelling out, it hurt in a maliciously perfect way, she felt the familiar flutter in her stomach that usually announced that her climax was fast approaching. She bit her lip to keep herself from begging Sara just to take her. Fuck her. Bury her fingers deep inside her and put an end to the greedy need Sofia felt for release. To tell her that she needed no more, that they could revisit this scenario, any time, but that now, she just needed to come. But no. The scarf bit into her wrists, while she fought her body into submission, fought for control over its reactions. Sara grinned into her breast, she could feel it, and went to give the same treatment as before to Sofia's other breast. Meanwhile her hands had started wandering. Pinching, caressing, scratching, massaging, stroking, lightly slapping as they reached the outsides of her thighs. They had yet to kiss again. Sofia longed for it.
Suddenly, wetness on her thigh again. Grinding down, hands forcing Sofia's leg to comply and set a counter-rhythm to Sara's movements. Sofia gulped, knowing Sara would get herself off on her leg, and she could do nothing about it other than help her along, could not touch her, not watch her face when she'd slowly be overcome by lust, could not see the look in her eyes when she finally came. She whimpered, but a hand closed over her mouth.
"Shut up. This is for you. I can't do this for you any longer when I'm almost losing my mind of hunger for you to touch me, too. I need to take the edge off. You'll hear me. Listen!"
Sofia struggled even more, groaning out her sheer frustration. And gave in.
"Sara, just- please, no more. Just fuck me. I need you, please!"
The hand settled lower, in the middle of her chest now, holding her down, pressing her into the mattress with a strength that almost frightened her.
"No. Not yet. But believe me, I want to. I want you. And I'm gonna have you."
Now she felt used. Used as a tool in Sara's wish for more or less instant gratification, without caring what she longed for. It should make her furious. It only made her feel helpless. Powerless. But wasn't that what she had wanted all along? Even though the other claimed it would be to her advantage. And she wasn't sure anymore if it was so very much of an advantage if Sara was able to keep up what she was doing that much longer.
On the other hand she loved it. This not getting what she wanted, but inadvertently having Sara so riled up by trying to fulfill her fantasy that she did what she did right now. So Sofia tried increasing the contact as much as her position allowed her to, and listened, like she'd been told to.
Sara's breaths grew heavier as she used the strong muscle of Sofia's thigh, crushed herself onto it, grinding down faster and faster. Soft mewls and moans. Sara was less vocal than Sofia, but her sounds were so genuine, said so much about the state she was in that Sofia relished in every single one of them. Then the rhythm faltered, and Sara shook on top of her, releasing a long, loud sigh as she climaxed.
A minute of silence, no movement at all, just more heavy breathing, and then the hand was gone from her chest, and Sara was off Sofia and the bed again.