Red

Position 2

Locking the door behind her, Mina sat down on the edge of the tub. She rolled her shoulders and breathed out slowly, her heartbeat a loud drum. She watched in the mirror as her fingers began to stroke up and down her bare thigh, stopping just short of the space between. Her muscles tingled. Her flesh was still slick and hot, but Mina wanted more of that blinding feeling. So she began to roll her nub between her thumb and forefinger, nearly crying from its sensitivity. Reaching under her dress and bra to grip the bare flesh of her breast, she pinched and played with her nipple in a similar fashion to her lower parts. Her reflection was shuddering with the ecstasy.

Rubbing around and up and down on her clit, her gash relaxed and opened slightly. She stroked circles along her entrance, pressing a finger inside, then another, then another, and then whimpered with the width. But the feeling was immense and her heat erotic, and it caused her to cum in less than three shoves of her hand. She pinched her nipple harder then, twisting it slightly, and her orgasm crashed into her repeatedly. She was fascinated as she watched her body's response.

"Oh, fuck!" Mina bit her lip to muffle the curse. Her pussy grew impossibly tight around her fingers, so she withdrew them on a moan and began to furiously rub her clit side to side, using all four, slippery fingers. She squeaked, trying to stop from screaming. Her other hand now held tight to the tub's edge, careful not to fall. The final orgasm arrived with a squirting, pushing sensation, and she felt the warm liquid coat her fingers, taint, and inner thighs. It glistened on the white tile floor. She choked back a sob as she continued to play with her clit. Her hips rolled, her forehead shining with sweat. Her breasts were heaving. The image was wonderfully erotic. Mina spazzed and slumped over when her fingers finally left her pussy to rest. Her body shivered, screamed, and begged for more, but through the haze, she heard a knock at the door.

"Be out in a minute!" She croaked, breathing in shakily before slowly getting up. Her body ached and her legs were weak, but she forced herself to turn on the faucet and wash the cum from her hands.

"What was the point of that?" The voice was nothing short of condescending. Mina kept brushing her hair, a mildly amused look on her face.

"There doesn't have to be a point, Reagan," she winced through a knot. "He's hot, I wanted him, he wanted me. Simple as that."

"Far from!" Her best friend scoffed.

"Whatever. It'll be good material," she countered, and they both shared a laugh. "Speaking of... Can you make it next month?"

"Uh, to your debut exhibition in your brand new town? No, I am far too busy to gush about your ability to paint from the soul and your decade-long success in challenging age-old societal issues, much less hold your hand through this life-changing and career-defining event." Reagan paused and caught her breath. "You're kidding me, right?"

"And here I thought I was the dramatic one. How many seconds without air was that?" They laughed again. "Well, great! I'm all moved in so you guys can stay here." There was a loud snort and she arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"No way two adults and a child are going to fit in that so-called guest room of yours. It is literally the pull-out couch in your living room. Would you even have food to feed us? Oh God, are we gonna have to bring own soap?"

"Screw you!" Mina laughed, then heard a voice in the background.

"Prudence says hi."

"Hey monster!" She said happily. She could hear the phone switching hands.

"Ugh, as much as I hate that nickname, it is appropriate. All children do is shit and scream and cry, and they destroy everything! Yeah, she's my entire world and I'll protect and love her till death, but antique Chinese vases do not come cheap!" Reagan joked with a hoot.

"Weren't those fake?"

"Hey, no one can know that for sure!" There was a crash. "Seriously? Gotta go!"

Mina smiled and set her brush down. Regarding herself in the mirror, she angled her face this way and that, examining each freckle and crease. The frizz of her mane was a mess of copper, a light frame to round cheeks and even brighter gray eyes. Her neck was a pale column leading to a pair of sharp collarbones, which led to firm arms and quick, yet anxious hands. A thick pad of scar tissue, laid just inches south of her left breast, was revealed by her open robe. Her eyes glanced over it. Further down, her waist tapered in slightly, giving way to hips that could birth galaxies. Her gaze followed her curves. Light pink lips, natural in fullness and hue, pursed together as her laptop woke up.

Email from GoddessD.

Greetings Wilhelmina! I hope you're well. I know it's been a bit of a stretch since we last spoke but I do have good news! I'm excited to say... The Masters and Mistresses of Salvation have taken a great interest in your portfolio and we would love for you to photograph this Saturday's event for the website! Can you come in tonight so we can talk about rules and ideas?

Mina's mouth was agape, then she screamed with excitement, bouncing in place. She hurriedly typed out a response, and received a ding minutes later.

Wonderful! The address is on the website, the password is potato. Wear something red!

She laughed in disbelief and fell back on her bed. A second passed and she screamed again, her arms and legs flailing in the air. Mina sucked in a breath and turned on her side to look out the window. She hugged her knees to her chest, still giddy. Her thoughts were racing. What should I wear? Oh my GOD, is this really happening?! Shit, do I have enough money for gas? I have to shave! She sat up quickly and screamed again, clapping her hands. Then she darted for the bathroom, thinking ...What rules?

Mina crossed her arms, tapping her fingers on her chin. Three dresses, a blouse, and an out-of-place sweater were spread on the bed. One dress was a tight vivid red mid-thigh long-sleeve, its back a deep swooping cowl, and another, black and strapless, with red polka-dots and a gently puffed skirt ending just above her knee. The third was a lace, cap-sleeved, flowing yet sleek, deep maroon dress. The blouse had a ruffled circular neckline and no sleeves.

She threw her towel in the laundry basket, and the water still clinging to her body glistened in the light. Her breasts, stomach, and the fat on her ass all jiggled gently as she danced to the drawer. Neon colors jumped out at her, but she choose a simple black lace thong. She stepped into it, covering up a cute little orange patch in the shape of a heart. Though the tight dress would've been a vision, and the blouse more professional, the maroon dress with some plain black flats just screamed Wilhelmina. You want to make an impression, but you can never forget who you are.

Under a V neckline and light cleavage blocked by a triangle of maroon fabric, the long skirt was light and free. Her wet hair was now easier to tame, Mina braiding this and curling that. She applied an even darker rouge to her lips to transform the near saint-like look to a classy sinner quick. She grinned at her polished reflection, hair pinned in a high braided crown. With a slim-cut black blazer, a golden snake of a ring, and the weight and strap of her camera, Mina combined passion, sophistication, and a subtle sweet mystery to define the woman she first found when her journey began. She thought of that woman now, as she touched up her mascara and added a few more pins to her hair.

Years ago, an ex-boyfriend growled as he pulled her legs apart, and she could still hear the sound. He dug his face into the side of her neck while he held down her legs, and the feel of the carpet was just another sensation that held through the years. The fact that her friends witnessed the scene from the basement window didn't bother her at all. Rather, it made the memory more exciting. That was the first of many. Another ex wrapped his wallet chain around her wrists while he fucked her from behind, but made sure her face didn't hurt from the floor. It was sweet, like the gentle way he used his pocket knife to poke at her back when she asked him to. And when he said he liked the fear in her eyes - the excitement that it gave him - she understood what he meant. But it wasn't until sexting turned into words like Master and slave that she felt something scratching inside. And when that ex got tired of the game while Mina played on, she realized she didn't want anything else.

Mina began to read of submissives and Doms, of Master and slaves, of bondage and pet play and floggers and clamps. Over time, she learned of her kinks and her needs, and tried to fully submerge herself in the community. Online forums and opportunities to meet like-minded friends filled the free time she didn't dedicate to painting or sleep. She read books and autobiographies and looked up videos, pictures, and personal blogs of kinksters and those in the S&M scene. The research she put into understanding BDSM grew into a fascination, then into a full blown love affair. It became her addiction, and it made her yearn for more than what those damn horny randos could ever offer her.

Each night, her body would writhe in bed with thoughts of rope, and pain, and most honestly, the trust that granted such fantasies. Because the universe knows the run-ins she's had with inexperienced and immature "Doms" trying to take advantage, as well as the inevitable broken hearts along the way. She would close her eyes and imagine it was His fingers instead when she held her breast or pinched her nipple, that instead of hers clumsily slipping inside and out, His fingers would fit and stroke with ease. His hand would leave bruises on her thighs and her ass, not a brush or her own. And instead of the dildo she bought months back but rarely used pushing against her walls, she would imagine it was Him, stretching her, preparing her. She would even choke herself sometimes or pull her hair to enhance the sensations of cumming, but nothing could ever compare. She would whimper 'Sir' and 'Master' and 'please, may I come?" to an empty room, but in her mind she would please Him every time. Every day, she could only imagine the feeling of truly submitting.

But tonight was going to be different. She dabbed perfume on her neck, behind her ears, between her breasts, and on both inner thighs. Her body jittered. She secured the necessities: Phone, charger, wallet, mace. Scooping the keys from her purse, she turned off the lights and locked the door. Tonight, those fantasies belonged to someone else - and Mina was determined to capture them for eternity.