Claire hesitated outside the studio door. The building was discreet--no sign, just a black-painted door with a brass number and a buzz panel. It felt like the sort of place meant to be found by those looking for it. Her heart pounded with nervous energy: not fear, exactly, but anticipation tangled with self-doubt. What if she wasn't what Rey expected? What if she couldn't go through with it? Still, her hand moved without her realising, pressing the buzzer before her overthinking could catch up.
The door opened with a soft click, and Rey appeared in front of her, looking like a goddess--barefoot, composed, wearing sleek black silk that clung to her body like water. Her gaze was calm, but sharp, a little amused, as if she could see through every layer Claire hadn't even removed yet. "You made it," she said, her voice smooth and low, like warmth seeping into chilled skin. Claire nodded mutely, and Rey stepped aside. "Come in."
The space was nothing like Claire had imagined. No red velvet or whips on the walls--just soft lighting, muted colours, a scent of something floral and grounding. It felt like stepping into a dream. Rey motioned toward a low couch near the window. Claire sat, suddenly hyper-aware of her posture, the way her skirt tugged at her thighs, how warm her face felt under Rey's gaze.
She settled into a chair opposite, legs crossed, exuding quiet command. "So, Claire... why don't you tell me what brought you here?" Her voice was a slow unraveling--inviting, but in no way optional.
Claire laughed softly, but it caught in her throat. "I, uh... I just got divorced. A few months ago." She looked down at her hands, twisting the ring she no longer wore. "We were married for almost fifteen years. He was... safe. Predictable..." She glanced up at Rey, who watched her without judgment, only stillness.
"I'm 38," Claire continued, her voice quieter now. "And I feel like I've never really... been in my body. I've never been touched by someone who actually sets my skin on fire. I don't know what I like. I don't know what I want, which is ridiculous at my age. But I'm tired of pretending I'm fine with vanilla when I've been craving something... else. Something more." Her eyes held Rey's now, vulnerable and aching. "I want to find out. And I thought maybe... you could help me do that."
"I certainly can help you, Claire," she said. "But that means you'll need to trust me."
She stood and extended a hand. Claire took it, her pulse quickening. Rey led her to the centre of the room, then let go. "Now, I want you to take off your clothes. Slowly. Piece by piece. You're not rushing this, you're not hiding anything. I want you to feel what it means to offer yourself. That's your first step."
Claire hesitated. Rey had returned to her chair, settling into it like a goddess on her throne, cross-legged, composed, watching. She said nothing, didn't urge or rush. That quiet stillness only heightened the charge in the air. Claire's fingers moved to the top button of her blouse, and she swallowed hard as she began to unfasten it.
Each movement felt amplified, like every inch of skin she revealed buzzed under Rey's gaze. She wasn't touching her, but Claire could feel her, somehow. The slide of the fabric off her shoulders made her shiver. By the time she reached for the zipper on her skirt, her hands trembled. Her thighs felt warm. Her breath was shaky. She'd never undressed in front of anyone like this before--not deliberately, not slowly, not like it meant something.
And all the while, Rey remained seated, watching her like a living goddess. Not leering. Not dispassionate. Just... aware. Present. Commanding without a word.
Claire let the last item of clothing fall to the floor--her knickers sliding down her legs --and stood bare, arms hovering uselessly at her sides. She felt the cool air kiss her skin, exposing every inch of her tingling. Vulnerable didn't feel like the right word.
Then she noticed it: the heat between her thighs, the subtle slickness she hadn't even registered until now. She was wet. Just from following the instructions. Just from being seen like this. The realisation made her breath catch--and made her want more.
Rey lifted her hand and slowly crooked one finger--a silent summons.
Claire obeyed.
She crossed the room in measured, but unsteady, steps, her pulse pounding in her ears. When she stopped in front of Rey, the other woman looked up at her with eyes that didn't need to ask questions--they already knew. "Kneel," Rey said softly, but without room for negotiation.
Claire sank to her knees.
The floor was cool beneath her. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, but Rey's voice followed again, calm and sharp: "Open your knees."
And Claire, burning and breathless, did precisely as she was told.
Rey tilted her head slightly, her gaze never leaving Claire's face. "Before we go any further," she said, her voice low, "Remind me of your safe words."
Claire's mouth was dry, but she managed to speak. "Yellow... if it's too much but I don't want to stop. Red if I need everything to stop."
"Good girl,"
Rey shifted forward slightly, still seated, knees brushing the edge of Claire's vision. Her hand moved slowly, deliberately, as if giving Claire time to absorb every moment. "I'm going to touch you now," she said. "Just to see how your body's responding."
Claire nodded, breath shallow. She didn't trust her voice. She held her breath.
Rey's fingertips trailed up Claire's inner thigh, featherlight at first. Then she cupped her palm between Claire's legs. The contact was warm, confident, and possessive. Her fingers slid through the slickness with ease.
A soft hum of satisfaction left Rey's throat. "So wet already," she said, almost to herself.
Claire's eyes fluttered closed as heat flushed through her--embarrassed at her bodies reaction.
This was the first time a woman had ever touched her like this--an intentional, confident claiming. Rey's fingers weren't hesitant. They weren't asking for permission. They knew what they were doing, and Claire's body was answering like it had been waiting for this all along.
The realisation pulsed through her--heady and electric.
How many years had she gone untouched like this, even in sex?
How often had she lain beneath someone and felt like her body was invisible?
But here, now, under Rey's hands, she wasn't invisible. She was soaking wet, on her knees, letting herself be taken apart one slow, deliberate touch at a time.
Her fingers moved with the same calm confidence she'd carried from the moment she opened the door--circling Claire's clit in slow, deliberate strokes. Just enough pressure to make Claire gasp, not enough to satisfy. The teasing was unbearable in the most exquisite way.
"You're so responsive," Rey murmured, watching Claire's face closely. "Every little touch pulls something out of you. I want to know all your tells."
Claire bit her lip, her hips shifting without permission, chasing the sensation. Rey's free hand rose to steady her thigh.
"No," she said firmly. "You don't get to grind. You just take what I give you."
Claire whimpered--somewhere between shame and arousal--and Rey smiled.
Her touch shifted. One hand kept circling, coaxing, teasing that bundle of nerves while the other slid lower, lower... until her fingers slipped between Claire's folds again. This time, she pressed inward--one finger at first, then another, slow and steady. Claire's walls clenched around the intrusion, her body tensing in surprise.
Rey stilled, letting Claire adjust. Her eyes didn't leave Claire's face.
"There it is," she whispered, her voice thick with something reverent. "The way you open up for me. That's what I wanted to see."
Rey slowly withdrew her fingers, and Claire made the tiniest of moans at her loss. Rey brought them to her mouth, just briefly, tasting her like a secret. Claire blushed and stared at the floor.
Then Rey stood.
Offering Claire her hand again, Claire took it without question. Rey led her to the bed, low and wide, dressed in dark, soft linens. It looked almost ceremonial.
"I want to show you what it means to give up control," Rey said, voice low, almost tender. "Right now, your pleasure isn't yours to decide. It belongs to me."