Born Identities

"Come here, Gloria."

I started to walk toward her but Jaden held up a hand to stop me. She then pointed to the carpeted floor. My breath caught in my chest. She wanted me to crawl to her? For that command I had to fight a battle within myself. There was submission and there was submission. As I said before, I was a control freak. I had never crawled for anyone in my life. Never backed away from a fight, never gave up easily…never relinquished control. And now, this woman wanted me to crawl to her. Crawl to demonstrate I was beneath her and she was in control. This was not like removing a bra. This was the beginning of a journey that would only take me further off the beaten track. Was I sure I wanted this? Was I really ready?

I don't know if it was my conscious decision or the substances floating around in my bloodstream, but I sank to my knees and began to make my way to her on my hands and knees. I moved slowly, wondering what I was doing. Wondering why, with every inch that I covered, I grew more and more aroused. It dawned on me that something was seriously wrong with me. How could I like this? Every feminist fiber of my being should be screaming out against this. But when I saw her hiking boots and the leg of her blue jeans, I was hungry for her approval, hungry for her touch. I stayed there, on my hands and knees, my head bent, waiting for her next command. I would do whatever she wanted, I knew it then.

"Look at me Gloria."

I swallowed. It was harder than I thought it might be, but I raised my head until I met her eyes. She had a smirk on her face that both unnerved me and fueled my sexual desire.

"Good girl."

The husky whisper sent a pleasurable pulse right through my system. She put a finger under my chin and brought me to my feet. I stood before her, my body taut, waiting, waiting…waiting for her to touch me. She knew what I wanted, what I needed, but she kept me hungry for it. Her eyes never left mine.

"Take off your jeans."

I did that without much hesitation, sliding out of them, pleased at the black lace panties I'd worn for her. I watched her eyes comb over the thickness of me. She turned me around and I was forced to swallow whatever self-conscious feelings I had as she took me in from all angles. When she was done, and I was facing her again, she indicated with a simple wave of her finger that she wanted me to remove the sweater. That I did after a heartbeat. I paused because I had already removed my bra and I wasn't thrilled about the battle my tits were fighting with gravity. Still, I removed the sweater and tossed it on the floor beside my jeans. She nodded and I turned again when she indicated she wanted me to. She stopped me with a hand on my hip when I stood with my back to her. I felt her trace the outline of the tattoo on my left shoulder blade with a fingertip. And then, after a moment, with her tongue.

My knees almost buckled at the contact. The flame she was creating within me with such a simple touch was a bit frightening. I stood, trembling, as she finished tracing the tattoo with her tongue, enjoying the feel of both the wet heat on my back and the controlling feel of her hands at my waist. When she removed her tongue from my flesh, she pressed herself against me. I felt the warmth of her through her clothing, the ripple of muscle as she circled my waist with her arms, the hardness of her nipples pressed into my back that let me know she was aroused. She held me for a while, and then slipped her thumbs into the waistband of my black lace panties, dragging them down toward my feet. I stepped out of them. Now I was naked before her and she turned me around to face her once again. I had a hard time meeting her eyes, but when I tried to lower my chin, she simply raised it again with a strong finger until our eyes met once more.

"You're beautiful."

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I didn't. She smirked again, retrieving her drink and downing it in a swallow. She replaced the glass on the dresser top before speaking again.

"Undress me Gloria."

I don't know why but the sound of my name on her lips, mixed with such words, made my clit even harder. I started with her top, unbuttoning the black and blue flannel shirt slowly, removing it from her shoulders. She wore a white wife-beater beneath it and I appreciated the wonderful contrast of it against her golden brown skin. I unbuttoned her jeans next, taking my time with the zipper, and them dragging them down her thick, muscular legs. She wore simple briefs beneath the jeans, but I didn't care. Everything about her stirred me up in some way, simple or not. I had to kneel to remove her boots but didn't mind doing so. Within moments she was standing before me in nothing but the white undergarments. Her breasts were relatively nonexistent, so there was nothing but thick, semi-muscular caramel brown flesh to feast on. I loved the meal, absorbing it hungrily. My fingers itched to touch her and from my crouched position at her feet I caressed a nicely shaped calf.

She slapped me then. Hard, right across the face. I don't know what was more shocking, her strength as she backhanded me or the tears that sprang to my eyes. I landed on my butt and looked up at her, holding my cheek. She knelt before me, snatching up my chin roughly between her thumb and forefinger.

"Don't touch me unless I give you permission to do so, understand?" She growled softly.

My heart was racing as I nodded. I wondered what I had gotten myself into, but I didn't fail to notice that my nipples were rock hard and my center wet with hunger. I was even more surprised by my arousal than her rough handling I think. Still, I sat at her feet when she stood, waiting for her next command. Waiting, once again, to bring her pleasure.

She left me sitting on the carpeted floor and moved to the nightstand. I watched as she quickly removed the rest of her clothes and lit another joint. She watched me for another moment, inhaling deeply, that brow raised. I wasn't sure what she wanted from me so I opted to remain where I was, absolutely still.

"Come here."

I needed no further instruction this time and crawled to where she stood by the bed. Her intense brown eyes registered some approval as she watched me crawl and I was happy that I had done something right again. She inhaled on the joint again when I was kneeling at her feet. She gently caressed my closely cropped hair, her fingers teasingly stroking my ears and the nape of my neck. I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of her. I was scared at the thought that I was willing to do almost anything to please her.

"Get on the bed, face down."

Her voice was harsh, devoid of emotion. I could see the steel glint in her eyes again, the same look I saw when she backhanded me. I knew she was about to mistreat me and I grew even more excited at the thought. I did as she asked and was silent as she removed fur lined cuffs from the nightstand drawer. She tied my hands and feet to the bed frame and I closed my eyes tight, trembling just a little at what was in store. I was nude and spread eagle for her, completely under her control. When she slipped a blindfold over my eyes, my breath caught. I don't like the dark, I'm afraid of it. But for some reason the blindfold only seemed to stimulate my senses further.

I heard some ruffling, had no clue what she was doing, and had barely registered the whistle in the air when something struck the tender flesh of my buttocks. I didn't cry out, only a whimper made its way past my lips. I tried to register what she was hitting me with. It felt similar to the leather paddle Brandye sometimes used when I begged her to spank me, but thicker, rounder. Another whish of air and the paddle struck again, this time on the back of my thigh. I bit my lip, not sure if she wanted to hear me cry out or not. The strokes were powerful. She was not holding back. If she kept hitting me like this, she would break me in no time.

By the fifth stroke I was shifting in the bonds, trying to have the paddle land where I wanted it to. This only seemed to annoy her and on the next stroke, a harder, heavier stroke than the previous five, I cried out. By the tenth stroke I was sobbing, begging her to stop. By the twentieth, I was babbling and my tears had soaked through the blindfold. I don't know how many more strokes there were, I lost count. When she was done, I was sweating, panting, and relatively incoherent. But damn if I was hot and bothered. There was sheen of wetness on my inner thighs that did not hail entirely from sweat, and a smell of pure unadulterated lust about the room.

She didn't touch me for a period of time and I silently thanked her for a chance to regroup. I had never been treated like this before. Brandye never had the heart to hurt me in such a way. I knew my buttocks, thighs and lower back might be bruised and I wasn't sure how I would explain that to Brandye, but for some reason I didn't care at the moment. I wanted to feel her against me, wanted her hands on me in some way, and I desperately, desperately, needed to come. I was so aroused I could barely keep still. The minutes dragged on.

I thought she might have left the room. In my current state, I would not have heard her retreating footsteps on the thick carpet. But I heard a noise and then felt a dip in the bed. I felt her move between my thighs and tensed at what was to come. I suddenly felt something cool, smooth and hard against my swollen nether lips. She teased me with it for a little while, rubbing its cool surface against my hot, swollen lips. I heard a click, a faint hum, and then I catapulted into a mind wrenching orgasm. She slid what I now knew to be a vibrator into me, plunging it in and out rapidly. I heard another click, another hum, and felt a second vibrator pressed against my clit. This time I screamed as I came, my feet tugging fruitlessly at the restraints. I could see colors behind my closed lids, bright oranges and reds, and spots of white light. My back arched and I sobbed a bit as she shifted slightly again, moving the vibrator slowly up and down my clit. The third orgasm slammed into me and my fingers clawed at the sheet as a howl was torn from me. I was panting, my head spinning. I felt the bed dip with her weight as she shifted yet again and then I felt her tongue trace along the crack of my ass. I wondered if she had a manual of my erogenous zones as she slathered up my puckered rosebud and then slipped her tongue inside. The fourth orgasm was like a punch in the stomach, it snatched all of the air from me. I feared my heart would stop if she didn't end her assault on my senses, and yet I didn't want her to stop. I never wanted her to stop. She was now plunging the vibrator in and out of my sopping wet vaginal canal, rapidly rubbing the second vibrator against my clit, and tongue fucking my ass. I didn't think I take anymore and was prepared to beg her to stop as the fifth orgasm crashed through me. Then there was black.

I guess I was only out long enough for her to strap on a harness, because she brought me to when she entered me roughly with an oversized dildo. I had no idea how large it was, but it was thicker and longer than anything I'd had in my body previously. I was thrumming with sexual currents and the oversized dildo, which probably should have brought some pain, offered nothing but pleasurable new sensations. Her strokes were long and slow. I couldn't be sure if that was for my benefit or hers. No matter, she was driving me crazy. She leaned forward and I felt the heat of her mouth near my ear. She traced my earlobe with her tongue and I moaned.

"Are you awake, beautiful?"

I nodded, afraid to trust my voice.

"Good."

Her hips picked up a little speed and she began to move deeper within me. I felt a twinge of pain when the dildo first brushed up against my uterus, but it was quickly replaced by pleasure when I felt her hands on me, caressing the small of my back, the swell of my buttocks, my overly sensitive inner thighs. She had a steady rhythm now and I could hear the sticky sound of our wet flesh when she came in contact with me. I had never had an orgasm from penetration alone, but something mind shattering was building within me. My body grew more and more tense as she fucked me.

She paused unexpectedly, parted my buttocks and lapped at my puckered hole once again. Then, suddenly, abruptly, she shoved something the size of the Grand Canyon into my ass. I screamed out in pain and panic as my sphincter stretched lewdly to accommodate it before closing around the smaller end of it. She began fucking me again, ignoring my yelps of pain and my pointless attempts to eject the monstrous invader from my ass. Her strokes distracted me from the ache caused by what could only be a rather large butt plug. And when she reached under me to stroke my clit with her knowing fingers, I quickly grew to appreciate the sensations of a full bottom mixed with deep almost painful strokes with an enormous dildo and her expert manipulation of my clit. I was climbing swiftly, making my way toward what I knew would be another out-of-this-world orgasm, when she suddenly removed her fingers, denying me. I whimpered, contemplating begging her to let me come, when I felt the thwack of the paddle on my ass. She offered increasingly painful, yet stimulating, jolts as the paddle brutally met flesh again and again. It was too much, too much, and when she struck me again I exploded with a complete lack of inhibition, not giving a damn who might hear my long, loud heartfelt wail.

She didn't miss a beat, tossing the paddle aside, grabbing my hips, and fucking me with abandon. I could hear her rushed breath, felt her sweat drip onto my back, and ignored the pain caused by her fingers digging into my flesh. She was using my body now. This was no longer about my pleasure. She wanted to come. I pressed back to meet her stroke for stroke, inciting her, wanting to bring her as much pleasure as she had brought me. Within seconds she swore loudly, her body trembling as she slumped onto my back. Her hips were still pumping slowly as she milked her own orgasm. Her breathing was harsh, her body slick with sweat, and I swore I could hear a purr emitting from deep within her chest.

We lay like that for a few moments until she rolled off me and onto her back. She stood up with a surprising amount of energy, considering the exercise routine she had just put us through, and undid my restraints. She rejoined me then, pulling me to her before covering us with a sheet. Not a word was spoken as I snuggled beside her, listening to her breathing as it slowed to a deep, rhythmic pattern. When I knew she was asleep, I risked shifting just a bit to look up at her face. It was completely relaxed, the square chin and forehead, thick brows, and pug nose beautiful amidst such serenity. And those lips, those incredibly juicy, enticing lips….it shamed me that I could still feel arousal at just the sight of those lips, imagining how they might feel against either pair of my own lips. It was at that moment I realized Jaden had not kissed me. My last thought before I drifted into a restful sleep was that I hoped she would change that for the better soon.

I awoke to the sound of a door closing in some other part of the apartment, and Jaden's arm tightening around me just a bit. I glanced at the clock on her dresser top, noting it was after midnight. Jaden sat up and pulled on her wife beater and jeans. She winked at me before leaving the room. I heard voices next door and realized she was keeping Dyanne busy. I dressed quickly and left their apartment without making a sound.

I had to go for a walk before I could return to my apartment and slip into bed with Brandye. I was searching for the guilt I knew I should feel, but I couldn't muster it up. The night had been wonderful. Jaden had taken me places I had never been before, places I knew I wanted to visit again. I was angry that I couldn't spend the night beside her and then chastised myself for such a thought.

I walked around my neighborhood for about 30 minutes before making my way to my front door. When I entered, I was relieved to find all the lights out. I entered the bedroom as quietly as possible, pleased to see Brandye in bed already. I hurried to the bathroom and locked the door before stripping. As I showered, I played the night over and over in my head until I was so aroused I had to masturbate. Then I shook my head at my behavior. While the night had been momentous, nothing would come of it. Jaden had not asked to see me again. There was no promise we would have a chance to dine alone in the near future. In fact, I was pretty certain the only thing that would come of this night was frustration and restlessness on my part. The thought that I wanted to spend more time with her, wanted her to control me again, angered and shamed me.

I toweled off quickly, shutting off the light before donning a nightshirt and slipping into bed beside Brandye. I wanted to sleep on the pullout sofa, but I didn't feel like explaining that decision to Brandye in the morning. She stirred when I settled in beside her, turning over to throw an arm around my waist.

"Had a good time?" She asked in a sleepy voice.

If I had been paying attention, I would have heard how contrived the sleepiness was. However, I was lost in my own thoughts.

"Yea, it was nice."

When she seemed to fall back asleep, I removed her arm and turned over to fall into a restless sleep.

I didn't see Jaden for two weeks after that night. I was starved for her. I was trying to pretend everything was normal, going to work, paying bills, behaving as a lesbian wife should behave (whatever that means), but I could not get her off my mind. I was also sexing my wife to death trying to release some of my sexual frustration, but that wasn't working either. I had to stop myself numerous times from simply appearing on Jaden's door and begging her to fuck me again. I wasn't winning that battle. So, when Brandye announced we were going on a double date with them, I felt like I had just been declared 'not guilty' at a murder trial.

I didn't care where we were going, I dressed to entice. A pair of slimming black jeans again, black leather boots with 4-inch stiletto heels, and a form fitting black sweater that showed off all the right dimensions. Makeup (which I hardly ever wore) and the juiciest, berry colored lipstick I could find. If Brandye was surprised to see me all gussied up, she didn't say anything. That alone should have made me wonder, but I didn't give it a second thought. I needed to see Jaden again. She was all I could think about.

I sat across from Brandye in a booth at one of our favorite haunts and waited for Jaden and Dyanne to arrive. It was a long wait, although I think they were only 10 minutes late. When I saw that black Cadillac Escalade pull into the parking lot, my heart almost leapt out my chest. Dyanne didn't wait for Jaden to open the car door for her and I mentally wished it was me in that car. I would know to wait. I would know how to make Jaden feel like the Domme she was. But I cleared my mind instead, watching as Jaden's powerful form made its way from the parking lot to our booth. She was certainly a sight for sore eyes, delicious caramel thickness from head to toe. I took in Dyanne for a moment, realizing she too had gussied herself up, but I was too focused on Jaden to worry about why she looked the way she did.

Jaden sat across from Dyanne, which put her beside me. I didn't know if anyone other than Jaden saw me shift away from her, remembering her demand that I not touch her without permission. When I felt her hand on my thigh, I relaxed just a bit and enjoyed the feel of our thighs pressed together. Her hand was drawing a lazy circle on my jeans that drove me crazy as we all studied our menus. Again, if I had been paying attention, I would have noticed that Brandye was also missing a hand and Dyanne was wearing a dreamy smile on her face that probably mirrored mine. For the hundredth time, however, I paid no attention to my partner and the chemistry between her and Dyanne. I only had eyes, or maybe I should say I only had a clit, for Jaden at that moment.