Beautiful Disaster

Page 59

"White lies, really," she adds. "It's April, just three weeks until we do actually have that anniversary, you know? And while I think we should celebrate that with Jazz, I'd really love to have some alone time with you again, too."
Getting the cleaning utensils from the corner next to the door, I set to wiping down the bench while I think of something to say in return. Bella seems to takes my momentary silence as chagrin, because she crosses her arms over her rope-marked breasts, looking just a tad bit defiant.
"It's not like I wouldn't speak up if I felt the need to have you to myself more often. I was talking mostly playroom time. Watching you both have your first real lover's spat last week was just too adorable to keep you apart for too long at a time!"
Gnashing my teeth, I glare at her before I kneel down to clean sweat, snot, spit and other bodily fluids off the floor.
"If you keep making fun of me like that, I will have to tan your ass one way or another. And, as I keep repeating, he was behaving like an ass. Should I have kept silent?"
"I'm not making fun of you alone, Edward, but of both of you! And speaking of my ass, you know that I love including Jazz in and out of the playroom, but even you have to admit that you tone it down a lot for his sake. Not complaining, and I'm happy that it's been weeks since you last weirded him out enough to make him consider walking out, but I'm kind of starting to miss how things were between us before we were both getting it up the ass all the time."
Finally done, I straighten, then walk over to her and kiss her softly.
"So you've miraculously cleared our schedule for the time that Jazz isn't here. Knowing you, you must have more plans for what we should be up to then."
I don't even ask her if I should have initiated a few more intense sessions with just the two of us, because I know that if she had felt the need for it before, she would have asked for it.
The fact that she's biting her lip before she answers is already making me curious, and her following suggestion even more.
"I kind of thought that it might be interesting for once to not stop playing when we leave the playroom? Like a continuous, day-long session?"
"I thought you didn't want to do anything even remotely 24/7-ish?"
"I didn't until now," she replies, then looks down at my chest while her fingers dance over my abs. "And I know that you haven't been too fond of the idea in the past, but I think the way things are going between us, we might have reached a point where we know each other well enough that we can anticipate each other's reactions? And somehow I get the feeling that having me at your mercy for twenty-four hours, completely devout and set to fulfill your every wish, might be something you'd like."
I can't help returning her coy smile with a sinister one.
"You might just be right about that."
Either my voice or my words – or maybe both – make her shiver for a moment, turning that coy smile into a wide, hungry grin.
"Thought so. You know that I love it when you're all playful with me and Jazz both, but the thought of having you go all mean, sadistic, relentless bastard on me just makes me all kinds of crazy."
"And what exactly do you have in mind? Or is this as far as your planning goes, and the rest is up to me?"
"Actually, yeah, the rest is up to you, but I might have a few suggestions that I hope will inspire you."
"Like?"
"Well, the usual," she starts, then takes a deep breath in what I know is her way of making herself go on, even though whatever she wants to say clearly takes some strength to admit. "I'd also like to point out that since Jazz moved in we haven't done any fisting at all, which is very, very sad. I also know that you've been eyeing that single tail whip over there a lot, but you've never asked me if I wanted to try it. And because this is a special occasion, I think I'd love it if you left a few marks on me. Souvenirs, kind of.
Nothing permanent, but enough that they'll take a few days to fade. I mean, it will be kind of inevitable anyway if you hit me as hard and as often as I want you to, so might as well go all the way with it, right?"
Instead of answering verbally right away, I kiss her, deeply and hungrily, making her both moan and laugh at the same time.
"I'd love to. Anything else?"
"Nope, just be your charming self and give me hell."
Chuckling darkly, I reach around to pinch her ass, making her jump and yelp delightfully.
"I think I can do that."
Together we leave the playroom, and my mind is already filling with devious ideas while Bella takes care of my resulting hard-on in the shower.
As such things go, the next few days fly by so fast that I'm hard pressed to plan and organize everything I need to enact my plan in its glorious entirety. It takes Jazz about five minutes to catch on to the fact that I'm up to something, but I don't tell him anything beyond the basic setup – that while he's in California, trying to do a week's work in just a day, I'm going to do my very best to turn Bella's life upside down. He doesn't even bat an eyelash although he must realize that we're going to do a lot of things he's probably still uneasy about but we established a while ago that as far as things in the playroom are concerned, a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy works for us. I even get the sense that he's glad we're going to use the opportunity presenting itself, which makes me wonder if he feels like we've been holding back for his sake alone. Which, while not entirely wrong, is a long shot from the truth, but there's only so much mindfucking I can do with Bella when we're limited to an hour or two in the playroom. I think that if our day goes even remotely as I plan, I might have to turn that into a monthly thing, as none of us seem even remotely put off by the idea.
When I leave the hospital late on Wednesday evening I'm already excited, doing my best to ignore the gentle abuse of my co-worker's teasing. For some reason, everyone seems incredibly amused that my girlfriend has such a tight grip on my reins that she even bends all of them and the usually rigid shift rotations to her will. I'm more than happy to leave them blissfully ignorant of what will be going on in our home, and outside of it, during the days to come, but it's impossible for me to hide my excitement.
And I'm not the only one, I realize when I come home and find Bella restless and jumpy, unable to sit still even while she watches Jazz pack his overnight bag. She greets me with a bright grin and some very emphatic kissing, which would have turned into more than just a make-out session if Jazz hadn't thrown us out of the bedroom, so as not to destroy his previous efforts at ironing his shirts and pants. I'm still tempted to fuck her right outside on the landing of the stairs, but she drags me downstairs to help her cook instead.
Spending the evening in front of the TV watching a movie is an endeavor we give up ten minutes after starting the DVD, as Bella and I are both horny as hell. Jazz doesn't seem up to the task of keeping us apart or tearing each other's clothes off, nor does he seem even remotely inclined to try. He also doesn't protest when Bella and I unanimously concentrate most of our attention on him – we have the next day all to ourselves, we might as well make Jazz feel like he's going to be missed while he's away, whether that's the case or not.
I'm already too locked in a dominant mindset to let him set the pace, and as usual, Bella is nearly as driven as I am before she's ready to give up control. We end up with both of us pretty much doing whatever we want to with Jazz. Afterwards, all of us are dead tired and utterly satisfied by the time we finally fall asleep, with Bella curled up between us as usual.
I still rouse a few times that night with a hard-on, but keep myself from waking Bella to take care of it, seeing as she'll be doing that and nothing else soon. By the time Jazz has to get up I feel ready to jump both of them anyway, but instead I follow Jazz into the shower and jerk him off while he makes fun of my perpetual horniness. Sadly, we don't have enough time that I can bend him over the sink and fuck that smirk right out of him, but one can't have everything, right?
Before I drive Jazz to the airport, I crawl back onto the bed until I'm hunched over Bella who is still dozing groggily, nudging my nose against the side of her neck until I hear her breath hitch. It's a clear sign she's awake, but still pretending to be asleep. Grinning deviously I kiss her shoulder, then whisper in her ear; I can't see her face as it's still buried in the pillow, but I don't really need to.
"The moment I'm back from dropping Jazz off, the game's on. I expect to find you kneeling in the living room, naked and ready for me. And, by default, for the next day you're not allowed to look at me or speak to me unless I give you permission first or ask you something. Any hint of defiance on your side will be punished swiftly and harshly, so you better be on your best behavior as my obedient slave."
Even though she still keeps up the sleeping act I feel her body tense underneath me, and I chuckle softly when she pushes her ass back against me so that it is rubbing my crotch through the thick duvet.
"There's a list in the night stand with a few more things I've come up with that I would love to include. Check off what you're okay with, strike through what you're not. If you forget or are too lazy for that, I will take that as your silent submission and do it all anyway. Consider this your last choice until Friday morning whether you look at it or not."
I kiss her shoulder lovingly before I crawl back off the bed, getting a low, contented hum in return from her. I don't really expect her to balk at any of my ideas, but three of them are still on her list of soft limits although I think she's outgrown her hesitancy to try. I'm curious whether she will protest –
or leave the list untouched and herself none the wiser about what I have in store for her. As her safewords are still active whatever we do, I'm not concerned about pushing her that one step too far – she'll let me know if I need to back off, or if she's ready to take the plunge.
Kissing Jazz good-bye at the airport leaves me strangely melancholic, even though I know that he will be back again in thirty hours. Yet the thought of what is to come soon has me in a good mood. On the way home I pick up fresh bagels and muffins for breakfast – or whenever we'll actually get to eat them.
As expected, I find Bella kneeling on the living room floor upon my return, but she's not as relaxed as I'm used to from the playroom. Her usual air of serenity is replaced by a certain jumpiness, and I see her twitch at least twice in the minute I take to just stand by the door and watch her. She doesn't turn her head in my direction, doesn't even look up from the spot on the floor in front of her spread knees. She's following my directions to the letter – but I can't say that I feel the satisfaction or rush I expected to, and she doesn't appear to, either.
Just to screw with her before we get to any actual fucking, I take my time undressing, then flop down on the couch in only my underwear and t-shirt to watch the morning news. Being ignored like that must be driving her crazy, and I deliberately build on that when I idly push my hand into my boxers and start to stroke my cock. I'm hard in no time, and the knowledge that she must be watching me stealthily is only adding to it, but I still don't feel the thrill I've been anticipating for days.
Getting tired of my own games quickly, I lose my patience and walk over to where she is still kneeling, head down and hands behind her back, but not even when she sucks me off at my command does my irritation fade. While she tries hard to do her best – which her being her, on her knees and all that, isn't that hard to accomplish – it just isn't what I yearn for, which I have to admit to myself when I come down the back of her throat.
Because I'm pensive, and quite frankly a little lost in my own thoughts, I keep my cock there a little too long until she starts to gag, and it's only then that I realize what is missing. As close as this is to what most people probably think of as the perfect scene, it just isn't us. And if I've learned anything since hooking up with Bella, it is the fact that just because everyone sees something as good doesn't mean it's right for us.
A week of planning is suddenly turned upside-down. I decide to take a little time to re-evaluate, so I leave Bella kneeling where she is and go upstairs.
In passing I check the nightstand, and not surprisingly find my notes untouched. The fact that she wants to be unaware just plays into my hands, and I head back into the playroom to make sure I have everything in stock for my new, impromptu plan.
I can't really change all that much about what I've organized for tonight, but until then I can do with her whatever I want – and the fact that I don't have to adhere to my own script is weirdly liberating. Before I go downstairs again I pause, still a little uncertain about whether she'll appreciate the change or not. I remember all too clearly that it was her express wish to submit to me completely today, but she can still do that later – and it's not like I will leave her much choice but to bow to my will, one way or another, before we go out to dinner.
My cock is particularly pleased by the new ideas forming in my head, but I do my best to will away my hard-on as I can't use it right now. Donning a faded pair of jeans I quickly rifle through Bella's closet, coming up with some old cotton panties and bra I haven't seen on her except for when we've neglected to do the laundry, and an old sundress she has set aside to donate to Goodwill.
The fact that she doesn't even frown when I drop the clothes in front of her a minute later is a testament to her commitment to be the perfect sub today, but it does weird me out a little more about my initial plan. This just isn't us. As much as I want to be the one to make her scream at the top of her lungs, this meekness is simply unnerving.
"Dress."
She gets up quickly and puts on the clothes without question, with not a single look in my direction, then sinks back onto her knees, waiting. I watch her for a full minute, itching to jump into action and trying to find a reason to scold her, but of course there is none. She's the image of total submissiveness today, and the more I watch her, the more it grates on my nerves.
Being the first to break, I walk around her and crouch down at her back, then grab her breast and dig my fingers into it while I push my other hand into her panties. She's wet already but not as drenched as I want her to be before we start, confirming that just like me, this isn't really pushing all her buttons the way it would if this really was our perfect scene. Leaning in I lick along the side of her neck, then gently bite into her ear lobe before I whisper to her, grinning at the light shiver I feel running through her body.
"You are such a good girl today, but that's utterly boring. I think I need a change of plan."
I'm strangely happy to get my first real reaction out of her when I hear her breath hitch and feel her spine straighten, but her lack of a verbal acknowledgement prompts me to bite down on her shoulder.
"You'll have time enough to be my meek little slave later when you're too exhausted to put up a fight anymore, but not right now."
Even without being able to see her face I can tell that she's conflicted – she knows I'm not above making her mess up deliberately so I have a good enough reason to punish her, but my words must sound as tantalizing to her as they are to me – now it's up to her to decide how to act. While she takes her time with that I switch my grip on her tit, and when I pinch her nipple hard, her cry seems to drag her out of her indecision.
"I thought you wanted me all docile."
No appellation, no nothing. If this were a trap I'd have ample opportunity to make her life hell, but as it is, I don't really give a shit right now.
"And now I don't. Is that a problem?"
She shakes her head, then whimpers when I increase the pressure of my fingers on her nipple.
"How do you want me to react in turn?"
"Like your usual charming self. As defiant as you think you can take the ramifications."
At that she pauses for a moment.
"Any reason I'm wearing these clothes? Other than so you can tear them off me again, I mean. And, as you didn't bring me any shoes, I'm guessing we're going to stay inside?"
"I was thinking about the old hostage / kidnapper scenario. I'm too lazy to carry you back through the building where people might see us and call the police, but assume yourself snatched up and dragged back to my lair."
Bella gives a contented hum that makes me smirk, so I add, "If you want to, you can struggle for real, but if you don't hold back, I won't, either."
I expect her to answer me, but she catches me completely by surprise when she suddenly rams her elbow into my stomach, then pushes up onto her feet. She's already scrambling away from me while my mind is still reeling from the slight but real pain from her jab, and the fact that I'm no longer groping her. Because she has been kneeling for so long it still takes her too much time to get to her feet and put some distance between us. I will freely admit that the fact that she even got a blind swing at me brings out my vengeful side. Instead of trying to catch her, I hurl myself at her with my full weight, pinning her under me as the impact drives the air out of her lungs with a loud 'oof'.
"Do you really think you can get away from me?" I snarl in her ear, but again she's too quick for me to keep her down. A little bit of struggling and we end up with her half on her back, her legs trapped by mine, glaring up at me while she punches my biceps hard.
"Let me go!"
"Not a chance," I laugh, then grunt when her next punch hits my ribs again.
I finally manage to restrain her arms by grabbing her wrists, but because I have to stretch to do so, she manages to draw one of her knees to her chest and in between us. I'm again surprised by her strength and how much of a real fight she puts up, but then I don't really have anything to compare this to. The only other time she's ever had a chance to struggle was when we were in the woods with Jazz, and I still vividly remember how reluctant she had been to do anything then. Not so today, it seems, for when I finally have her flat on her back again she starts to scream for help, forcing me to let go of her wrists so I can clap my hand over her mouth and shut her up.
More struggling ensues and I'm sure I'll bear a few bruises from that tomorrow. Eventually I manage to securely press her against me, her arms immobilized between us, while my hand still covers her mouth. At least she doesn't try to bite, but dragging her upstairs still proves to be a hard, slow process.
When I'm finally inside the playroom, I'm confronted with another problem I haven't anticipated – with her struggling to break free I can hardly tie her up with rope, or use the padded leather cuffs. I barely manage to fling the door to the supplies cabinet open without letting her escape, but once I scan all of the items inside, an idea starts to form in my mind. I have to actively push her down with my whole weight to be able to slap the handcuffs onto her wrists, but if anything, she fights harder once her arms are secured behind her back.