Five O'cloc Sharp

Five O'clock Sharp

Jag2088

Title: Five O Clock Sharp.

Author: Jag2088.

Tags: Lesbian sex; Bondage; Spanking; Domination.

Note: Unspoken thoughts are indicated by * *. This is an edited piece of my Fan Fiction with new characters. Shouldn't be too hard to figure out what the original fanfic was for those of a certain age.

Ann Caldwell, Attorney at Law, looked at her phone's screen and smiled. Anyone seeing the two of the them together, she tall and athletic with long dark hair and her partner, several inches shorter with a redhead's pale skin, would assume she was the dominant one. Anyone would be wrong. The diminutive paramedic had a core of steel.

The phone rang.

"Ann? Remember that I love you." Then Diane's voice changed, became the voice of command that, while not loud, could make anyone think twice. "I want you to come home right after work. Don't stop for anything. You don't want to make me unhappy. You usually get home at 5:30; I want you there at 5:00. Sharp." Without waiting for a reply, Diane broke the connection.

Ann sat at her desk; she had heard that tone before, but never over the phone. It had always been eased by the smile of the teasing Diane. Without that, it carried a different message. Her stomach flipped, and her thighs clenched; she tried to smile, but couldn't manage more than a weak movement of her lips. She would be there at 5:00 PM.

It was 4:55. Ann took a deep breath, and walked through the door. The room was cool, with blinds drawn against the sun. She smelled incense, but not her favorite scent. This was darker, richer, something she couldn't place.

"Don't turn around. Don't speak unless I tell you to." It was a familiar, yet different voice. "What time is it?"

Ann glanced at the red numerals; "4:56"

"What time did I say to be here?"

"Five. Sharp."

"And you weren't here at 5:00. I'll remember that. Take off your skirt. Put it here. Neatly." A chair appeared at Ann's right hand. The brunette's hands went to her waist, unbuttoned the first layer of her lawyer's armor, zipped down and pulled the garment off. She folded it over the chair, and stood straight, waiting.

The voice moved nearer. "Take off your stockings."

Ann moved to comply. She slipped off her gray pumps, then peeled her hose down and away. She felt cool air on the beginning damp warmth between her legs.

"Don't leave them ringed like that. Take the time to straighten them, and put them away carefully. I have time, but I don't like to waste it." The voice was neutral. "Put your shoes together so they stay clean. Put your hands behind your back."

*Ah, now the bondage. Rope, or cuffs...* Ann thought. She was surprised when it was neither.

"Put these on."

From the depths of Ann's closet, and into her crossed hands, were placed her three inch black spiked heels. She stepped into them.

"Spread your legs."

Ann moved them apart slightly.

"Wider." A collapsible policeman's control baton lightly flicked between Ann's upper thighs from behind. It climbed higher, touched her panties with its slim length, pressing up, then side to side, and withdrew.

Ann was very aware of the incongruous position she stood in, fully clad above, nearly naked below. *Steady, Annie, nothing to be afraid of...* But she was, a little, she couldn't help it. Scared, and excited.

A hand cupped Ann's right buttock briefly. Nothing was spoken, but this first touch seemed to say, 'it's me, and you're mine; in every way; and I treasure this gift..' Ann thought, *This is it. It's a two way street, and I play my part, and she plays hers.*

"Take off your jacket. Remember that I like neatness."

Ann hung the linen suit jacket over the skirt.

"Now the top. Then stand still."

Ann's white silk tee top followed.

"Very pretty," said the voice, and Diane stepped just into Ann's vision. She wore black jeans, and a black strapless bra; black spikes were on her feet. Her eyes were made up, and her lips were a maroon slash. Her eyes were cool, and her expression was one of calm control.

"This is hot work." Diane walked to the table, and pulled out the champagne chilling there. She popped the cork, filled one flute, and returned to stand three feet in front of the motionless Ann. She took a small sip of the wine.

"Put your hands behind your back." She held the glass to Ann's lips. "Drink."

Diane stepped back. "Take off your bra." Ann placed it on the chair. "Good. You're learning." Diane stepped to Ann. She held the cool half full flute between the full breasts, then touched the brown erect nipples. "I don't like your colors; take off your pants."

The panties joined the garments on the chair, and Ann Margaret Caldwell, Doctor of Jurisprudence and Counselor at Law, stood naked in her own living room.

From her back pocket Diane pulled a swatch of bright crimson. "Put these on." Ann stepped into the brief pair of bikinis.

"Much more colorful. A real improvement. But perhaps it's too bright for you." From her other back pocket Diane produced a sleep mask of the same color and slipped it over Ann's eyes. She stepped behind the taller woman, and placed a gold chain around her neck. In the center of the chain was a small carved red rose. "You can touch it. Once. Don't talk."

"Put your hands behind you." The redhead bound them with a scarlet sash, then placed her hand at the small of Ann's back. In a softer tone, "What is your word? Tell me a safe word, or we end right now." Ann replied in a dry whisper.

Then the voice returned. "Now. Walk with me." A hand grasped her upper arm. The bound woman walked slowly but steadily out of the room, and down a short hall. She entered her bedroom and stopped. Diane stepped ahead to her side. "Three steps; then down." She held Ann's left arm and eased her onto the bed, bottom up. "Wrong time; shoes on the bed. You have a lot to answer for."

"Get up on your knees." The only sound was the women's breathing, soft and fast, then Diane extended the baton to its two foot length with a soft brushing of metal on metal. She slipped the spikes off Ann, then ran the hard rubber tip along the soles of her captive's feet. Ann arched her back down, pushing out her bottom. She moved her knees farther apart as invitation; a low moan escaped her.

*First, the feet, then up; it's time she learned some patience.* The foot work continued, the tip, the handle, the black length rolled along Ann's feet. Diane stepped back. The voice of command. "Down." A push on Ann's butt accompanied the command, and the brunette was prone. She pushed against the mattress. "Lie still. Spread your legs"

Diane ran the tip down Ann's thighs, and pushed gently behind the knees. She broke contact, then moved to the shoulders, touching with the tip only. Then at the knee, gentle pressure, moving up Ann's left thigh, but not THERE. Stopping, descending, climbing again. Then the right thigh.

The baton began to fall, lightly, on the backs of Ann's legs, ankle to bottom.

"Knees."

Ann moved up again, shoulders on the bed, red bottom in the air.

"Wider."

The baton flicked on the inside of Ann's thighs in soft strokes, then harder. Diane stopped, ran it against the crimson slash back and forth side to side hard and soft. Faster breaths from her lover and she removed the baton, noting with satisfaction the moisture on its length. Her own breath came faster.

She pulled the bikini pants down, they made a thin red line above Ann's knees. The baton returned, pressing hard now against thighs, then up to point of the triangle, to the center point of Ann. More moans, more moisture.

*This really is harder on me than her. I have the restraint. I'm in control.*

She inserted a pillow under the kneeling woman. "Down."

Ann was prone again, her bottom raised on the pillow. Harder than before, hard enough to make the skin flush red, the baton fell on Ann's soft cheeks.

A touch to the reddened flesh. *Warm. Better cool her off. Let's check the other temperature.* Diane's hand probed between Ann's legs, entering easily into her very damp lover. *Good. I think I may have a gift for this. God, I love her so much...*

*Dee, keep touching! Don't stop! Dee.... Dee!*

"Don't move. I'll be back. When I'm ready." Ann lay motionless on the bed, listening to the retreating footsteps. Then silence. *How long has it been?* And Diane's return...

"Legs together." Diane pulled the red panties off. "Spread."

Ann complied. Diane ran the heavy champagne bottle, cold and wet from the ice bucket, up Ann's thighs. She pushed the side of the bottle against Ann's cunt, then lifted it to touch and sooth the spanked bottom. The cold green glass disappeared, replaced by a touch, a kiss.

Diane stepped away. "Roll over. Get up on your knees and sit back." She assisted her bound lover into this position. "Wait."

Unable to see, Ann heard the click of glass, then the gurgle of wine. She felt Diane's hands at her chin and the champagne flute returned. "Drink."

Ann felt her wrists being freed. "Lie on your back, put your arms out." And the silk was reattached, tying her arms out wide. Diane stepped back to admire her work, and the glory that was Ann. Her breasts glistened, her pubic hair matted and damp, naked except for the scarlet sleep mask, her legs free, her arms restrained. *Beautiful! What would I look like?*

The voice returned. "I want you to see what you can't touch." Diane slipped off the mask. Maintaining her impassive expression, her hands unsnapped the fly of the black jeans. She lifted one leg, then the other, and removed the spike heels, the jeans. Now clad in the bra and a black thong, she lay at Ann's side in the dim room.

*Kiss the armpit, a little bite. The collar bone. The hollow. And down.* Diane took the breast in her mouth, while her hand played with Ann's left nipple, satisfyingly erect. She threw a thigh between Ann's, and pressed her crotch firmly against Ann's thigh. Her own wetness excited her more.

Diane abandoned the breast, and straddled Ann's torso, facing her feet. Two fingers entered Ann *How easily* curled and began a rhythmic stroking. She lowered her lips to the inner thighs, and delivered a series of kisses and nips. *How are you doing, Caldwell? Like what you see?*

Ann tested the bonds, but they held firm. She could not reach the white buttocks with the disappearing black strip that bobbed so tantalizingly near. *I can't stand this!* "Dee! Hurry!"

Diane too was past the point of rational thought. *Mercy!* She pivoted, and knelt between Ann's spread legs. The knees came up, the thighs pressed the copper hair. One hand on Ann's bottom, and the other within was joined by Diane's tongue, pushing, probing, in tandem with the hand, sometimes stopping to kiss the lips, then entering again. A third finger slipped in; Diane's tongue circled Ann's clit then pressed hard against it. Ann tightened, screamed, and bucked. Her thighs clamped tight around Diane's head.

"OhmyGod yes!" She took a series of deep breaths, lying still.

The voice returned. "I'm going to untie you now. But you can't move till I get back."

"No problem, Dominique. I can't move. Period." Heavy breathing.

Diane nuzzled the wet cunt she loved, relishing the moisture on her face and lips. She rubbed her face over Ann's thighs and belly.

The brunette opened her eyes, and saw that Diane had stripped and was kneeling at her side.

Her lips came down to Ann's mouth, a soft kiss. The redhead knew her lover, her girl, her woman loved tasting herself. Diane's finger traced the gold chain with the red rose. She knelt again, Ann's eyes following her.

"Happy Birthday Darling." In a soft tone. Diane lay down beside the Birthday Girl, put her head on Ann's shoulder, dropped a hand between her legs.

"You can touch me now." And Ann did.