Nina Ch. 03

Maybe she did want to please him more than she feared her desire. If she could just stop thinking, stop that snide voice in her head from telling her awful things about herself for ten seconds... Maybe she could do this.

BEN

This might have been more of a big step than a baby step, thought Ben, keeping his face carefully composed as he contemplated Nina. Her tongue moistened her beautiful lips. Ben thought wistfully of the simple pleasures he enjoyed using ropes, but now was not the time. They did look good on Nina. A single-column tie around each limb would look even better... Her face peering up at him from her soft auburn hair, her body naked and helpless... He would feel better when she allowed him to tie her so she could not escape.

Later.

Ben pulled up a chair to the side of the bed, near Nina's head, but not too near. Probably not what she was expecting, he thought. But it would put them closer to eye level than if he sat on the bed or stood, and he had decided that the bed was her territory—for the moment.

"So," he said, swearing to himself that he would take it step by step. "We've been doing some things together that I think it's time we talked about. Frankly, I expect this will be an uncomfortable conversation for you." Nina was already showing it, unable to keep her face turned toward his. But he saw a rueful smile flash over her mouth.

"Once again, keep in mind, you can get up any time you like. I do need some things from you, though." When she didn't respond, he said, "Nina, do I have your attention?"

Her grey eyes darted back to his. "Yes."

"Good. I need you to communicate."

Nina winced again. But, Ben thought, this is no surprise.

"I know, it's hard for you," he began, but this seemed to be the wrong thing. Nina looked dismayed.

"It's okay, Nina. It's okay that it's hard for you. But it's what I need, some kind of communication in addition to the body language and—some of those other things I won't mention right now." She nodded vigorously and fidgeted again.

"So while we're talking here, and going forward—if we go forward—I need you to let me know how you're doing. You can use whatever words you want, unless we're in a, ah, unless we're doing something where you aren't using words. Or you can use a familiar set colors: green, meaning we can proceed; yellow, meaning I need to be aware you're reaching your limit; red for a full stop. I hope you use them freely and I hope you feel good about using them. But since I have some, let's say, reservations about how willing you'll be to use them, I'll be asking regularly for your check-in. Can you do that?"

Nina nodded.

"What color are we at now?"

"Green."

"Great."

NINA

Wasn't he going to join her on the bed? Nina just wanted to hurry up and get to that.

Didn't she?

Maybe she just didn't want to have to talk about it. But Ben wanted to. These were his terms.

On second thought... These were their terms, a compromise. He wanted to have the conversation, and she needed some kind of sign that he was in control. Even though she could leave, just having the ropes lying across her skin made her feel, with every movement, like Ben had put her there. Ben was doing this. She was just going along because she had to.

She didn't dwell on why that was easier to accept.

Finally he spoke again. Lord, he was taking his sweet time.

"Why are you here, Nina?" Ben opened his hands to indicate her position on the bed. So this isn't an existential question, she thought.

It wasn't an easy one, either. The ropes around her feet had plenty of leeway and she didn't stop herself from bringing her legs closer together. For a short time the room was silent except for her own sounds: a long sigh, an embarrassed, dry laugh that died as Ben merely looked at her. Her toes digging into the bed. Swallowing.

Just say it, just say it, just goddamn say it. "For you," she said shortly. It was a simple answer and encompassed all of the twisty thoughts and needs she had tried to bury.

"You're biting your lips pretty hard. What color are you at now?"

She hadn't realized about her lips. She let them go to say, through clenched teeth, "Yellow."

"All right. You're here for me." He said it like it was a fact that he already knew, and he was glad she saw it his way.

"And last night you said something similar. You said you wanted me to do anything to you."

Nina held her breath. She pulled her hands through just enough so the ropes were in her palms, not around her wrists, squeezing them rhythmically and forcing herself to exhale.

"You said you were mine," he pressed.

There it was, that shooting pleasure again. It was all mixed up with gooseflesh rolling over her arms and legs, warm though she was in her clothes, in the warm room. She felt the tingle of blood rushing to swell her vulva at the same time as it heated her face with shame.

"Your color," said Ben urgently. Nina realized she had her eyes screwed shut, her nostrils flared, her lips sucked forcefully against her teeth.

"Yellow," she hissed.

"Okay. Understandable. I want you to take a moment to relax. Your arms are close to you, your legs are pulled in, your whole body is tight, resisting. Think about that and come back to me when you can."

She had gone dizzy when he'd said she was his, and she was still dizzy as she thought of flight. Out of the room? Straight into his lap? Why was this middle road so challenging?

Her body was indeed very tight. She felt like she was on the precipice—of what, she couldn't, or wouldn't, think about. Maybe she couldn't think about this. Maybe it would be better for both of them if she left. She clenched tighter.

One step at a time, she coaxed herself. He's still there. He's still waiting.

The thought of him waiting was what brought her to uncurl with a deep, calm sigh. She cast her gaze wide across the space to him.

"Yes, Nina," he whispered.

BEN

Two hours later, Ben had finished washing up dishes from lunch and was sitting on the leather sectional, reading.

He was looking at his book, at any rate. But he was still thinking about that morning. Nina had been very brave, and they had gotten over perhaps the most difficult hump. Their conversation had continued much as he'd anticipated it would after that.

He had told her he did, indeed, want her to be his—but that that meant different things to different people. The dynamic of dominant and submissive (she had looked embarrassed when he'd said that) played out in many ways. He was not so interested in having this dynamic all the time, but he often enjoyed sex that way (here he had paused to watch her wet her lips again), and sometimes he liked other scenes that way, too.

Jargon would alienate her, and Ben's familiarity and experience with dominance and submission only went so far. He had done what he could to weave terms into their language naturally.

She didn't live under a rock and had heard of many of the words, but just in case—and because talking about it was important, getting her comfortable with it was important, and there was a tiny part of him that got off on seeing her grapple with her discomfort—they had spent a half hour taking their time to discuss safe words, scenes... Ben had taken her cues, keeping her somewhere between green and yellow as she lay on the bed, her hands clutching the ropes like lifelines.

Nina had voiced an important question: What did Ben like about—how had she put it?—'all this.'

There was just so much he liked. Where to begin? How much to say? He had taken a few moments to compose his thoughts and ended up with:

"I want things from you. And I want your permission—often your enthusiastic permission, though sometimes just your permission will do." As Nina digested this, he elaborated. "You say you're here for me. That is a gift and a privilege I am eager to take. Right now, you're physically free—you can get up and walk out. In the future you might not be so free. You might choose to trust me to handle you with care. And any time we interact as dominant and submissive, you're choosing to follow what I ask—or not. I trust you to do your best to meet my desires. I do like this, you know." He offered her a broad smile, and she looked bashful. "I do like seeing you this way." I like seeing you tied, on your knees, naked and waiting for me... Ben's heart was starting to hammer as he watched Nina react to him, her nipples forming peaks beneath her shirt as she watched him hunger for her body.

He cleared his throat. "You want to please me and trust me, Nina, and I like that."

There was a little more, but he kept it back from her for now.

In the end, they had agreed on a few things:

There would be no question of his doing 'anything' to her, he'd told her firmly. It was a common sentiment, understandable due to her inexperience and in-the-moment desperation, but they both had limits.

"You wouldn't want me to do a lot of things. You wouldn't want me to force-feed you thumbtacks or, say, tattoo a picture of the Michelin Man on your ass, right?" he'd asked playfully. She had chuckled.

He'd gone on more seriously. "We'll start with a lot of limits. We'll even make some different decisions about contact like what we've already had. But you can expect me to push you on some of your limits, and I need to trust that you'll be open with me about what can and cannot be pushed."

Nina had agreed to use the colors—green to voice her ongoing consent, if she wanted Ben to know; yellow to alert him to her severe nervousness and desiring him to change course; red—or simply 'no' or 'stop'—to stop.

She had asked a question in her carefully neutral voice, in such a way that it made him think she might be afraid to speak a desire: What about those who wished to say 'no' or 'stop' but have those words not signify no and stop? What about those who used other words?

"I... It's something we can discuss in the future, but when I hear you say those words, I will take you literally," Ben had responded. He was not opposed to it, but it would take careful navigation if it was something she really wanted. They weren't ready for that.

They made a plan for what would happen if she reached red, to help her feel safe and well.

Then she'd asked: "Can I say orange? If I feel... If I'm almost at red but don't want the interruption?"

He had thought of saying, That's what yellow is for, but on second thought he realized she was right. There was a broad range of yellow, and he knew Nina liked some of the torment of being hung out to twist in yellow-land. Yellow would mean he would pay closer attention and gently redirect; orange would mean a hard turn; red-full stop.

Additionally, Nina would have space to invite Ben in. He couldn't think of any other way to put it.

"I know you have an easier time when there's pressure from me," he had said, "and we can put that back on the menu, so to speak, at a later time. I need you to trust that I am in this with you—that I want exactly what you think I want—and invite me in so we are doing this on your schedule. At least for a while."

To his surprise, she had nodded immediately.

He'd also said lightly that they would lay off the spanking for a while. That was part of the pressure he'd mentioned, although it would be on the menu again, too. But in the future he wanted to use it for a different purpose...

His pause to allow her to ask the question had gone unfilled. She probably knew, but if she didn't want to talk about it, it could wait.

There would be little in the way of scripted commands from him. She'd seemed confused by this, but he'd assured her that simplicity and caution were valuable. Then he elaborated that he mostly wanted her to be able to think and respond to what he asked, if he asked her to do anything. In addition, she was to use her words and her body language to invite him to take another step, if that's what she wanted.

Ben had then turned the conversation to the elephant in the room.

"We need to discuss further sexual contact." Wow, he thought, talking about sex is a big red button for her. She had been relaxed but now wriggled her legs and arms closer in. Well, it needed to happen.

"I've already told you I like this dynamic when I'm with a woman. I have enjoyed our interactions, obviously, and I hope to incorporate this—to some degree acceptable to you—into future sexual encounters."

Nina hadn't looked at him, but she had nodded. Encouraging.

"Given that it's been very hard for you to be open and verbal about what you want, here's what I want: I want us to leave the room and go about our day. Sometime today, when you feel ready, I want you to come to me like you did before at the table. If you can speak your mind, please tell me in your own words that you are ready for me. If you find you can't, please take my hand and lead me to someplace in the house where we can put some of the things we have discussed into practice. For instance, you might take me to the kitchen table, and I might ask you to stand in front of me. If you choose, you might invite me to touch you, conveying to me where on your body you are okay being touched. Clothes will stay on.

"And if you desire sex to be part of the experience—keeping in mind that you can always change your mind, or I can change mine—take me into your bedroom, or mine if you feel you need to be tied again. If you feel inclined for us to engage in sex or ropes, I will let you lead. Simply invite me. You could, for example, sit on the bed hold out your hands to me. Or you could ask me to tie you down. This won't be perfect; we're new to each other. But I don't want you to feel worry or anxiety that I'm not pleased. I'm already pleased to be discussing it with you."

They had discussed, albeit belatedly, sexual hygiene and then birth control. Ben had had a vasectomy, fully aware he did not desire children, but he knew it was inexcusable not to have brought it up with her before the previous night. Nina was also on birth control, so she had not brought it up either; but they both had an uncomfortable laugh at their own foolishness.

And that was it. He had offered to slip the ropes from her. Even though she didn't need help, she had accepted; it was the psychological aspect of him releasing her that they needed.

Now, two hours later, Ben was not so lost in thought that he didn't notice Nina's increasingly antsy behavior. She was getting ready to come to a decision. Ben himself was feeling on edge, and he needed release. Nina didn't need the added pressure of seeing him aroused when she finally came to him. He went into the bathroom in the hall and took several minutes to pleasure himself, letting his mind roam over Nina, tied down on his bed, until he came.

Feeling unsatisfied, he went back to the sectional to wait. It wouldn't be long before he could be hard again.

As though summoned by his thoughts, Nina inched into view. She had changed clothes, he saw, though he wasn't sure of the reason for it. A sweatshirt and jeans. Ben never ordered a sub to wear something in particular unless he had a scene in mind, but in the future he would talk with Nina about what he would like to see her in if they were going to play, and see what she thought.

He set his book aside to give her his attention.

NINA

Now that she was standing in front of him, she worried her clothing choice was too much. Only a bra beneath the sweatshirt, and no underwear. She kept thinking Ben would see her as-what? Desperate? Too forward?

But she had already planted herself in front of him. Oh well. When she was sure he knew what she was doing, she tried to speak, but she couldn't manage it. Her eyes sought his for help.

He stood and held his hand out for her to take. Suddenly aware of how damp her nervous palms were, she wiped her hand on her jeans and timidly took him by the fingertips. Before she could walk away, he took her whole hand firmly in his grip.

Nina turned to lead him to their destination. She knew he must be wondering if she would take them to the kitchen table, only a few feet away; or to the other side of the room, to the armchair. Or...

As she pulled him into the hallway, he squeezed her hand. She risked a look over her shoulder and saw his face tight with anticipation.

She almost faltered when they reached the end of the hall and their two bedroom doors, both closed. If she turned right, they would be in her room. It felt more dangerous, she realized. It was her home base, even if she hadn't slept there the previous night. And there was nothing to tether her; everything would have to be done with complete physical freedom-how long would she last with nothing to keep her from running away? Or skulking away, more likely, she thought.

No. The ropes were a different challenge, a different kind of vulnerability, but they were probably her best bet for today. Besides, she had seen the hungry gleam in his eye as he'd watched her feed her hands and feet through even those loose loops. She wanted to give him that, and more.

Nina reached out to open Ben's door. As she came into the room and hesitated, he was right behind her, his presence palpable even though he didn't touch her. They stepped further into the room and he closed the door behind them. Nervously, she turned to face him.

The room seemed to have shrunk, because the bed was so close behind her and Ben was so close in front of her. Nina felt his eyes on her and had to fight the familiar unease that came with being the center of attention. At the same time her whole body was tingling with the knowledge that she was going to invite him to it-her body.

She needed him to be in control, now, she thought suddenly.

But it would take more than simply letting him. She was going to have to prompt him, to ask him, to show him.

Calm down, girl, take it one step at a time, she told herself. She took an uneven breath and decided to start at the beginning.

BEN

Nina was brilliant. Nina was smart. This was going to work.

After choosing their adventure-and Ben had to admit, both he and his dick heartily approved of her choice-she had gone into the room and simply stood in front of him.

She was inviting him to use a command.

He wouldn't waste it.

"I want to see you without your sweatshirt," he said. This was how he would start, with 'I want.' He knew she became aroused at knowing what he wanted, and it was softer than a command.

Nina grasped the bottom of her sweatshirt and started to peel it up from her waist. She was hesitating, and he couldn't figure out why until he realized there was only skin underneath, and her bra.

But what was that timid look all about? Was she shy about being seen in underclothes?

If she was, he wanted to soothe it and reward her for her exposure. "Good," he said firmly, running his eyes along her chest and belly, the smooth column of her neck, wishing he was using his hands. Her bra was lavender, only half covering her breasts, with a line of delicate lace running along the top. The best part was that it was sheer; the dark circles of her nipples captured his attention.

"I want you to take off your jeans," he said once he felt sure his voice wouldn't betray how much he already needed her.

There seemed to be a snag. Nina fiddled with the button and zipper, but she didn't seem to get anywhere. He watched her intently, trying to decipher if she needed his push or space.

Ben noticed that she seemed to want to speak. Her cheeks were in full blush, and she worried her lower lip with her teeth.

He drew on his well of patience. "I want to know why you are having trouble showing me yourself when I want to see you."

That seemed to do it. Resolutely, Nina pushed her jeans down completely and stepped out of them.

She was naked. Ben's breath caught in his throat. Turn around and bend over, lie on the bed and open your knees, ride me, touch yourself... The series of orders died before ever reaching his lips.