"Let go." Mimi kissed Sven on the temple and ran her hands across his shoulders. She crossed in front of him and curled up on the couch. "You look tense." She said, rubbing his thigh, " You need to stop thinking about everything with the band. Tomorrow will be fine." She stroked his cheek and he remained mute, staring intently at the TV.
"Sorry?" he looked up and put his beer on the table. Mimi raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling up with it.
"I was just saying," she began, "That I think you need to relax. You're stressed out. Go and have a shower or something. I was going to go to the gym. Come with me if you like."
Sven turned off the evening news and looked pointedly at Mimi, "What if I need something else?" he whispered, his eyelashes drooping softly. He looked up at her and Mimi felt an uncontrollable smile cross her face.
"Cheeky bastard." She laughed, kissing him on the mouth, "You know just what you're doing."
"No, no. I promise." Sven's wide hands flew up between them, trying to reassure her. "I wasn't... I just...I would really like to...If it's on offer..." He tilted his head and curled his fingers into hers, blushing. "Please?"
Mimi nodded and slid onto his lap, her knees either side of his, she cupped his face and kissed him hard, her tongue splitting his lips apart, making him moan under her. Her gripped her bottom and ran his thumb over her thigh, edging over the thin fabric of clothes.
"Baby," Mimi whispered, "I want you to clear the coffee table and then I want you to take off your clothes."
"Oh," Sven nodded, his pupils inky. Mimi shifted backward and stood up.
"You'll do that, won't you?"
Sven nodded, "Yes."
"Good boy." She planted another kiss on his mouth, her tongue skating between his lips again, into his very soul it seemed. Sven mewled. He looked up and watched her disappear into the kitchen behind him, her bare feet padding over the carpet and creaking wooden boards.
"Turn around and do what I asked." She called. Cups clattered in the kitchen. "Come on," she sing-songed, "Get on with it."
Sven smiled to himself and leant forward, moving a pile of coffee table books to the top of the bookcase that the TV stood on and placing a green glass vase on a sideboard.
"Are you coming out here?" he asked, "What are you planning?"
"You'll see." Mimi called, "Get naked, pretty."
Sven smirked and began undressing, feeling a familiar tingle in his stomach as his socks, jeans and t-shirt were all taken off and folded into a neat pile on the sofa next to him.
"Boxers too." Mimi walked back into the sitting room and planted a glass of wine on the table by the sofa. "Don't touch the wine."
Sven watched her walk into the bedroom and reached over, taking a gulp of the cool, pale liquid. He shimmied out of his boxers and sat on the edge of the sofa. Waiting. The nausea rose in his chest and he tried to shake it off, knowing damn well he shouldn't get so nervous anymore, that after nearly two years he should know better. But still, he was thrilled by it all.
"Don't...touch yourself!" Mimi had changed into a thin vest and her underwear and was holding an armful of toys that she dumped on the floor by the table. She fished out a gag and sat next to Sven, kissing him lightly on the mouth before pushing the smooth, flat leather between his lips. Sven frowned and looked askance at Mimi.
"It's new," she explained, her face beaming, "I saw all this beautiful, wide leather and thought of you wearing it." She ran her hand up his thigh and Sven tilted his head, nodding. "That's what I love about gagging you, you see." her fingers were still lazily skating over Sven's thigh, making him grind against the sofa, restless. "I love how it makes your body come alive. Every curve, every muscle, every inch of skin."
She bent down, pushing him into the sofa with one hand and planting painfully delicate kisses across his chest with her lips. "I love how it makes you hum and crackle with expectation."
Sven groaned and bucked his hips upward. Mimi grabbed his erection and raised her eyebrows. "Now, now." She chided, "You know better than that." She palmed his length gently and looked up at him. "I think it's time," she began, "That we had a really nice session. Just forget everything. It's been too long since we played properly, hm?"
Sven grunted.
"Yes, I think so too." Mimi kept rubbing him, her eyes never moving from his as he rolled his shoulders and groaned behind the gag. "Take a little whipping for me, won't you?" she said.
Sven wasn't entirely sure if it was a question but he nodded and groaned again, his eyes wide with desire.
"Right!" Mimi smiled and stood, slapping her boyfriend on the thigh playfully, "Get up. Go to the bookshelf and place your hands flat out in front of you. Hold the shelves, just like you're used to. "
Sven nodded and walked over to the bookcase, doing as she had asked, his fingers curling around the dark wood of the bookcase. It was a vast piece of furniture that took up nearly the entire end wall of their apartment, easily eight feet high and crammed with books, DVD's, photographs and bric a brac from their travels together. Sven fixed his eyes on the battered spine of a much-thumbed book about vinyl records and exhaled. Mimi moved behind him and then was still.
The lull before the pain.
He thought. But of course, it was a pain like no other and as he stood naked, the corners of the bookshelves digging into his palms, he found that his skin was singing for the bite of a whip or the dull comfort of a flogger.
At last, whirling through the air, it came. Mimi was clearly not in a delicate mood; first, with the thick, flat gag that covered nearly half his face and then, now, the sharp, neat slap of what felt like a riding crop. He turned his head slightly, and saw her, her face transfixed on her task, her lips slightly parted as she rained blow after blow against the naked curve of his ass. His heart did a little flip and he had to grip the bookcase to stop himself scooping her up and pulling the gag off so that he could take her right there on the living room floor. He turned back to the shadowy comfort of the shelves and the smell of the books, focused only on the blows that shivered through his buttocks and, it seemed, straight into his aching cock. He moaned again in appreciation and for a fleeting moment wondered if it was actually possible to come from simply being whipped. He half wanted to find out.
Mimi stepped back and exhaled, admiring the reddening glow beginning to form across Sven's buttocks, sinking happily into the warm comfort of the scene, like sinking into a hot bath.
