Subordinate In The Sheets

Subordinate in the Sheets

The murmur of the crowd bled into the background as I listened to her talk. She sat across the table from me, sipping her wine and talking about work. I was listening, nodding every time she paused, but my mind was busy getting lost in her complexion and mannerisms. As she spoke her hands moved to accentuate her stories, and her lip curled in a constant small smile. Occasionally, when she was reliving a part of her story that irked her, she would roll her eyes in a sassy way. I loved it. I kept eye contact easily, but my left hand kept fidgeting with the beer in it. My free hand sat face up on the table because she'd often drop her hand into mine and drag her fingers across my palm. Every time she did, it all of my senses focused on her touch.

She was still dressed for work since we'd met at the bar. Her look was controlled and professional, which I didn't mind, but it didn't feel like her. Her dark hair was pulled tightly back in a bun instead of running haphazardly down her shoulders. She wore a white oxford that was distracting because she'd unbuttoned almost a few buttons too many and her cleavage was testing the strength of the next one. Yet I kept my eyes on hers. A black dress-coat was slung over the back of her chair and the matching skirt came to just above her knees. She was wearing heels that I knew pained her and she'd abandon them as soon as she could, but it made me wonder why she made herself suffer to look so beautiful when it really took her so little effort. My mind dropped into a memory of her walking around the house barefoot, wearing only underwear and a worn-out t-shirt of mine. Her hair was always disheveled, as if it was tired of being restrained all day and the contacts gave way to glasses that slipped down her nose once in a while resulting in her pushing them back up.

She was tired, she was saying, of having to deal with assholes at work. She was tired of bossing around people who weren't interested in their job quality at all. She said upper management just wanted her to deal with everything on her own, and sometimes... she just wanted someone else to take control. Suddenly, I felt as if I wasn't touching her enough and I scooted my chair close to her, so close that our elbows met. She instinctively leaned against my shoulder while still talking. My hand went under the table and grasped her inner thigh, squeezing firmly. Her talking faded, but she remained staring at me with her smile. In response I slid my hand up her thigh further, to just inside the hem of her skirt. Her eyes looked as if she were daring me to go further so I raised my eyebrows and started to move my hand further up. Her hand shot to mine to stop it and she glanced a little nervously around the room to see if anyone was watching. Aside from being in a far back corner seemingly in our own little world, everyone else in the bar was enthralled in their own lives. Her hand stayed on mine, but she lessened her grip and returned her eyes to mine.

I took this moment to lean in to teasingly plant a soft kiss on her lips before moving my hand up more. Whether purposefully or not, her legs placated by slightly spreading further apart, and I touched her through her panties. She mostly kept her composure, letting out a little force of breath that only I'd notice. I brushed my fingers over her panties where her clit was and kissed her again, this time biting her bottom lip. An innocent wave of embarrassment came over her and she buried her face in the crook of my neck. It made me laugh, but I kept my hand against her. I scanned the room out of interest to see if anyone had noticed, but to the outside it just looked like we were a romantic couple snuggling.

It could have been my imagination, but I swear I could feel her try to push herself discreetly against my fingers as I was teasing her. The light touching through a barrier had to be maddening. I kept my eyes on the room and in one swift movement she wasn't expecting, I slipped two fingers inside of her underwear and pressed the tips firmly against her clit. Surprised, she wrapped her arm around mine and dug her nails into my flesh. A quiet moan was muffled by my shirt. While scanning the room as a lookout, I kept touching her, and I could definitely feel her ever so slightly grind against my fingers. I think not being able to move was killing her. Just at that moment my eyes made contact with a guy sitting at the bar and I paused. I wasn't sure if he was actually looking at me until he gave me a thumbs up, causing me to laugh and retract my hand. I nudged her to look up and when she saw him, she laughed as well, covering her blushing face.

"Oh my god," she whispered.

"We should go."

She nodded and polished off her wine before collecting her purse, "I need to use the restroom first. Join me?"

I took her hand and led her to the restroom, opening the door for her. She chose a stall and I waited as a lady washed her hands. She stared at me in the mirror while she did so, and I stared back. Once the nosy lady left, I leaned against the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked out of place in contrast to her professional look. In fact, I looked as if I belonged in a skate park. I was wearing a black band t-shirt, worn out jeans, and sneakers. My hair was barely visible under my hat and my thick black rimmed glasses made my eyes pop. She emerged from the stall and looked at me in the mirror.

"A little vain, aren't we?"

I laughed and shook my head. She went to wash her hands and as she did, I stepped up behind her, slipping my arms around her waist and pressing my lower half against her backside. She leaned back against me and stared at our reflections. Tilting her head slightly, she allowed me access to kiss up her neck. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the feeling, letting a quiet moan escape. When I got to her ear, I spoke smoothly into it while sneaking one of my hands up her stomach beneath her button up.

"I cannot wait to make you come...over and over and over."

Upon hearing the door open, we suddenly broke apart. A woman confused at our laughter chose to ignore us and we left the restroom. On the way out she had the audacity to wipe her still-wet hands on my shirt.

We made our way to the car and I opened her door before swinging around to the other side to pop into the driver's seat. Turning on the engine made the dash come to life and I fiddled with the radio until I found something rock. The first few minutes of the drive she didn't talk, just stared at me. I could sense her watching me and it made me smirk.

"What?" I asked.

"You're such a fucking tease." She was shaking her head, as if she was fed up with me but also enjoying it.

"Am I?"

"Yes. One hundred perfect and unapologetic."

I laughed, "You're completely right. But you aren't?"

She sat silently for a moment, pondering her past actions and biting her bottom lip in thought.

"You're right," she spoke, having come to that conclusion. With her acceptance, she reached across the console and started unbuttoning my pants.

"Excuse me, I'm driving, you know?" Secretly, I was intrigued and didn't want her to stop.

"Guess you'll have to keep your focus on the road." She unzipped my pants and immediately slid her hand into my underwear, touching me. I grabbed her wrist firmly before speaking.

"Did I say you could do that?"

Jokingly, she started to retract her hand, but I pulled it back and forced her to push on my clit harder. It sent a shockwave through me, but I kept my eyes on the road. Suddenly, I couldn't wait for a red light because every bone in my body wanted me to taste her lips. I wanted nothing more than to pull to the shoulder and fuck her right then, but I knew that what was at home would be far more rewarding than a quick fuck. I freed my hand from her wrist and returned it to her inner thigh, clenching the meat of it. To drive me wild, she kept switching between dragging her fingers slowly across my clit to quickly flicking against it. The need to touch her again was great, but I knew it couldn't be comfortably done while driving.

"I want to be inside you right now," I confessed. "I bet you're very wet."

"Well, you are extremely wet yourself," she laughed, before leaning over the console to find my ear. She licked my ear and spoke very softly into it.

"I am... very wet right now."

"Prove it," I smirked. We arrived at a red light and I expected her to let me touch her to test her alleged wetness, but instead she retracted her hand from me. I watched as she slid the same hand in between her own legs and touched herself, keeping eye contact with me the entire time. Her fingers emerged glistening, and she brought them straight to my open mouth, grabbing my lower jaw forcefully. While tasting her, she pulled my face toward hers and removed her fingers from my mouth before kissing me hard. Her hand clenched a fistful of my shirt and I kissed hard back, over and over until a car honked behind us.

At home, we abandoned the car quickly in the garage. She walked inside in front of me and as soon as we were inside, I pulled her back by the waist of her skirt to keep her from going any further. When she turned, I grabbed her forcefully by the throat and shoved her against the wall, flattening her against it as much as I could with my entire body. Her face showed no fear, but an almost wild, carnivorous look. As if she wanted badly to retaliate, to fight back, but gave way to a want to be controlled. An expression that she welcomed the slight pain of her head knocking against the wall. Her eyes stared at my lips hungrily, but I didn't kiss her. Instead, I started fingering the button on her shirt while getting closer to her face. I teasingly would pull back each time she tried to meet my lips. She got irritated with me and tried to push me away, but I didn't budge at all. She was trapped and she'd have to deal with it.

With her shirt open, my free hand met the warm skin of her stomach and touched it softly before dragging my nails across it. A quick breath escaped her lips and with my hand still on her throat I turned her head to face away from me, exposing her neck. I pulled her shirt sleeve to free her shoulder and kissed along it, slipping in bites as I went. When I got to her collarbone, I started kissing and sucking along her exposed neck. Her eyes were closed, just soaking up the feeling, until I turned her face back to mine. I finally allowed her a deep, long kiss and took my time tasting her.

I ended the kiss and freed her, motioning down the hallway toward the bedroom door. At first glance, she looked a bit like she was a victim of a crime--with her shirt half off and a fading red handprint on her neck. She walked slowly and confidently down the hall, facing away from me. Along the way, she dropped her shirt fully down her shoulders and tossed it to the floor. Her hands went to the center of her back to unclasp her white bra and although I couldn't see the front of her, I watched the sides of her breasts pop free from their restraints.

Her hand went to her constrained hair and liberated it, allowing her dark chocolate waves to fall against her peach skin. Once inside the room, she unzipped her pencil skirt and pushed it over her hips, bending down in an exaggerated way to make my look linger on her ass. Her skirt met her heels and she disposed of them both, leaving only an innocent-looking pair of sheer-white panties. She paused in the center of the room, looking over her shoulder seductively. I immediately wanted to feel her bare skin against mine and I quickly closed the gap between us while simultaneously removing both my shirt and bra. I engulfed her body from behind, flattening my breasts against her back. I took handful of her breasts and pinched her already hard nipples between my thumb and index finger. She moaned with both pain and pleasure, triggering a rise in my senses. I buried my face into her hair and took in a deep breath, smelling the sweet scent of her coconut shampoo. I brought a hand up to brush her hair away from her ear before taking her earlobe into my mouth and sucking it.

"On the bed," I ordered into her ear. She stayed in my arms for a moment, in a small act of defiance, but obliged. Venturing to the edge of the bed, she stopped before climbing onto it and very slowly slid her panties down over her ass. They fell to the floor and she mounted the bed. She half-laid and half-sat with legs stretched out and crossed, propping herself up with her arms as if she were posing for a pin up. I took my place at the foot of the bed and admired everything while removing my jeans, underwear, and sneakers. I tucked them out of the way under the bed.

The bed was large and intimidating, sitting in contrast. A single white fitted sheet covered the mattress, and the bed frame was a cold silver metal in contradiction to the black painted walls. The bed stood out against the deep burgundy carpet. Above the bed hung the only décor in the room: a photograph of her. Aside from being completely nude, she was tied with red wine rope. Her lengthy dark hair was in disarray, trickling down her shoulders. Her expression lacked fear or sadness, but her doe eyes and flushed cheeks were tinged with running mascara. Her lips were relaxed and emotionless at first but the longer you looked you could see the faintest Mona Lisa-esque smile. Her upper torso was bound as if in a straightjacket with her hands neatly in front of her. Because of this her sizeable breasts were accentuated, but her nipples were censored by the rope, causing a bit of a tease. The picture was taken at a height advantage, causing her to be slightly looking up. She was positioned on her knees facing the camera. At a glance, it looked as if she were staring straight into the lens, but if you paid attention, you could tell her gaze was somewhat misdirected. She was staring into the eyes of the photographer.

I turned and faced the wall opposite of the bed, where the only other piece of furniture sat: a black luggage trunk with silver trim. It was secured with a 4-letter padlock and I approached it, dialing in the word

REIN.

I flipped up the lid and looked over the tools it held inside. The interior held a bondage wet dream; a collection of cuffs, bars, clamps, and a single blindfold. A section of the chest was dedicated to causing pain, but tonight I felt like just using my hands. There was something overly enticing and relieving about just skin on skin, using your own body to cause discomfort in another and in the next instance using it to comfort. Behind me she was silent, but I could feel her staring curiously at my back. She was excited about what I'd choose. She knew she wasn't allowed to see in the box, but she couldn't help her prying eyes and interest. Often, I'd surprise her with new additions while others remained unused because I was unsure if she was ready for some of those tasks. We had our safe word and I'd made her promise over and over to use it, if she needed. She nodded obediently, but had yet to use it in any of our adventures. I was impressed.

For the time being, I removed from the chest, a single cord of the same rope from the photograph and my newest purchase of a metal bar that was about a foot in length. I turned to command her to the foot of the bed, but she was already eagerly positioned. She was kneeling with her knees perfectly even with the edge of the mattress and her hands on her thighs, just waiting for me, and I laughed.

"You're learning."

"I am," she smirked. I laid the bar to the side of her and slid my hand to the back of her neck, pulling her against me for a firm kiss.

"I'm also impatient," she whispered, and catching me off guard, she sneakily pressed two fingers roughly against my exposed clit and wrapped her other arm around my waist to keep me from escaping. A surprised gasp escaped from my mouth, and I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back forcefully. She kept going without interruption and instead of trying to pull away like she'd expected, I leaned into it. I thrust myself against her fingers in rhythm while not breaking eye contact, nor the hold on her hair. Eventually, the feeling got the best of me and I closed my eyes, tilting my head back to let out a moan. It had been less than a minute, and I suddenly grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away. I pushed both of her arms to her side and immediately started tying her with the rope. The rope bound her wrists and waist together, not allowing her hands to leave her sides. She made a realization while I was tying her and laughed.

"Were you that close to coming already?" I ignored her question verball0,y but responded physically by tightening the restraints. She told me once that the tight hold of the nylon left burns, but she didn't mind. She told me they served as reminders to draw her mind back to our activities during a stressful workday. When she'd have the chance, she'd slip away into her boss's private restroom to relive the memories while he was out. I told her that I was flattered, but that next time I wanted a video.

Slightly offended by her secretly correct accusation, I firmly grabbed her cheeks and squeezed.

"Naughty," I spoke, before moving my hand to her throat. She looked very pleased with herself and I squeezed tighter, pulling her face to mine and kissing her hungrily. I tasted her lips and tongue, biting her bottom lip while almost failing to resist an impulse to draw blood. Instead, I shoved her back onto the bed assertively. Being unable to catch herself, she fell flat onto the mattress and outstretched her legs. I took this chance to spread them for her and kneel in between her feet, forcing them more apart. I reached for my new bar and briefly showed it to her. At the ends of the short bar held two large, leather cuffs with buckles. I positioned the bar horizontally between her thighs.

"This," I started strapping in her left thigh, "is a type of spreader bar. It is meant for the thighs instead of the feet." The buckle was tightened to my liking on the left and I switched to the right, but not before glancing at her reaction. Her expression was intrigue, but I don't think it had donned on her what was about to happen. I strapped in her right thigh.

"You know how it drives me crazy when you come and then immediately close your legs?"

She nodded.

"Well, now you can't."

I stuck two fingers between her thighs and the straps to make sure it wasn't too tight. I copied the same motion with the rope before straddling her, sitting on her waist and trapping her hands even tighter against her sides using my legs. I leaned down over her with my hands against the bed. My hair fell over my shoulders, brushing against her breasts and face, as I leaned down to kiss her. Instead of a forceful kiss, I gave her a soft sensual kiss, allowing my lips to linger against hers. Moving a hand to her breast, I gently played with her nipple, continuing the kiss. Against her lips, I whispered.

"Are you going to behave?" She seemed entranced by the kiss, and didn't respond to my question. I pinched her nipple firmly and repeated the question. A pleasurable whimper came from her and she nodded with her lips still against mine.

"Good." I pulled her bottom lip playfully before nudging her chin up with my nose. I switched between kissing and biting down her neck with an occasional sucking motion against her skin. When I reached to the valley between her breasts, I slid my tongue across her skin and then took one of her nipples into my mouth. I flicked my tongue quickly over her already hard nipple and then switched to the other. I resumed moving down her body, kissing a straight line to her waist. I buried my face between her legs, gripping both her thighs firmly and enjoying the smooth skin and warmth. I felt her hips impatiently thrust toward me ever so slightly and I responded by flicking my tongue against her clit only once. She groaned out of frustration and thrust her hips toward my mouth again, this time more forcefully. I pulled back and waited for her to behave, giving her a stern look. She complied and I rewarded her by returning my tongue between her lips, running the tip of it over her clit furiously. She moaned loudly and started grinding against my face. I tightened the grip on her thighs and pulled her harder against my mouth. Her bound hands were clenched tightly against her hips with white knuckles. She half-heartedly strained her wrists against her ropes as if she wanted to reach for the back of my head to force herself against me even harder. Without breaking stride, I freed a hand from her thigh--leaving a white handprint behind--and slid three fingers inside of her. She was dripping wet with a mixture of her own wetness and my spit, making it very easy to enter her. She dropped her pelvis against my hand, causing my fingers to thrust deeper inside. I glanced up her body expecting her to have her eyes closed, but she was staring down at me, enjoying watching me taste her. She sucked the inside of her lower lip between her teeth, dropped her head back, and closed her eyes as she started to come.