The Right Submission

"I dunno," I said. "It's what he was into, and I felt bad that I couldn't get into it and be what he wanted. Maybe I was in the wrong mindset? I looked up BDSM this morning, and there was something about how it's like method acting. You need to envision yourself as a person in a role. I was too busy thinking of other things to get into the role."

"That's one approach," said Grace. "Personally, I don't see it as playing a game or a role. It's real life. You are who you pretend to be."

"Guess that makes me a serial dating failure." I laughed then stopped at the look on her face. She wasn't in the mood for jokes. "Wait, are you saying that you're into--"

"And you've spent so long hiding who you are," said Grace. We were facing each other now, and she had her hand on my shoulder. My skin tingled as she slid it over my neck and onto my chin. "You should know by now that there's no shame in coming out and admitting you want something."

I squirmed but she had me tight with that firm gentle grip of hers. And looking into her eyes, I realized I didn't want her to lose her grip. I didn't want to lose the warmth of her skin against mine. "I don't want to hide," I said. "I want..."

"Neither do I," said Grace. I was trying to bend toward her, to kiss her plump lips, but my head was trapped in the velvet vice of her hand. I sat helpless as her mouth approached me, her lips grazed mine with the slightest but fiercest sensation, her breath tickled my nose. Tortoise-like, she slid across my chest until those same lips were at my ear, whispering. "You want to cede control."

Heat coursed through my chest and into my face. "To..." I gulped. "To you?"

Grace nipped my ear in response. A shudder passed down my spine.

And in that moment, I understood. Grace had never mocked me, never tried to tease information out of me, never once laughed when I made a confession. Even when I was frantic, bordering on tears, Grace was the one who would listen and take me seriously. When I was over the moon about my first date with Will, she congratulated me without pressing for details. Yesterday, when everyone else was giggling over the paper that hadn't been mine, she'd been the one to get everyone off my back and on track. Despite her austere demeanour, there was that hint of compassion that always slipped through. Even back at the cafe, she'd seen through my vague bluster, and known what to say. Then I remembered the authority with which she'd taken that single fry, the way she'd stayed me down as she ate it; she hadn't been daring me to challenge her, she'd known I was powerless to do so. And she'd revelled in it.

I inhaled her hair in my face and tropical fruit washed through my nostrils. Just like Grace, the scent was restrained but once I'd identified it, delightful. I pulled back to align our faces and as I leaned in, I wondered how long I'd wanted to kiss her.

"No." Grace didn't move, but the force in her voice froze me like a dog. She wasn't angry or harsh, but she spoke with finality. I could not kiss her.

"What's going on, Grace?" Was I bad at reading signs? Was I sad and desperate after being tossed aside? She was interested in me, wasn't she? Then I was afraid. Afraid I'd made a mistake. Afraid I'd ruined our friendship. Afraid she'd realized how pathetic I was.

Grace stroked my face with her index finger. When she spoke, she was calm and cold. Ice. "Do you think you have earned the privilege of kissing me, you little bitch?"

Something exploded in my chest. My mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Then Grace was on top, her hips against mine, her body pressing my back into the couch. She was smaller than me, yet in the moment her weight was overwhelming. And her lips crushed mine, her tongue forcing entry beyond. It laid claim to my mouth in a way nobody had ever done before. I'd always thought of kissing as a mutual activity until now. Grace didn't allow me to participate, she only took. My mouth existed solely for hers to explore and conquer. Her hands caught mine by the wrists and pinned them above my head.

Grace broke away from me far too soon. Hovering, she looked down, still pressing me down from my hands to my hips. "We'll stop there," she said, breathing hard. I was breathing hard too, but it was strange to see Grace flustered. Her eyes were wide and unfocused and she spoke as though she was talking herself down from a point of no return.

"Don't stop there," I pleaded, straining up to reunite our lips.

Her grip on my wrists tightened and her eyes narrowed. "I decide when we stop, not you. Mouthy little bitch."

I'd never heard Grace swear until now. Being called a bitch by her was like being thrust into icy water. But cold brings blood to the surface, and my every blood vessel in my body was pounding. I wanted more of this strange new side of her. I wanted to feel crushed again, wanted her scorn and contempt, wanted my chest to tighten under her domination.

"Grace. More, please. I'm begging you."

"No." Her voice was gentle again. She released me and sat back on the couch. "I'm sorry, Rose. I went too far."

"Sorry for what?" I sat to face her. "The most incredible kiss of my life?" I leaned in, determined to kiss her this time.

Grace caught me on the chin again. She didn't grip, just held in place. For a moment I felt like a child being held back by an adult. But Grace smiled weakly and said, "Don't tease me like that, Rose. We need to talk first about our expectations and boundaries and so on."

"Me a tease?" I gave her my most indignant look, which wasn't easy considering she was holding my face. "You just blue-balled me, Grace, and now you want to talk?" When she hesitated, I pushed further. For what felt like the first time in my life, there were no doubts as to what I wanted and something told me she wanted it too. Previous partners had always been so...careful around me? Was that the right word? As though they were scared of hurting me in some way. Maybe it's another downside of being trans: people who don't know you well assume you're fragile or always on edge. Then I had my disaster with Will last night and realized that I wanted something more forceful. "Please show me more, Grace. You're a dominant, right? Do you want me to, you know, get you off or...?" I reached out and ran my hands down her sides to where the smooth flowing chiffon of her blouse met rough jeans.

The next thing I knew, I was on my back and Grace was towering over me with thunder in her eyes. "Bitch, when I get off, it will be violent. I will use and abuse every square inch of your body." Then she kissed me again and I nearly came on the spot.

"Shit, shit, shit," I babbled as she drew her lips away and consolidated her position on top of me.

"Do you need to cum?" she asked. She straddled my body, her shin on my crotch, and only then did I realize how hard I was.

"Yes. Please, Grace." I didn't always get hard during sex. Never this hard. "Please make me come." A flicker of doubt raced across my mind. What if that was the problem? What if she didn't like my dick? What if she preferred--"

"Are you giving me orders, bitch?" She had her hand on my crotch, squeezing me through my skirt. She leaned down so the tips of our noses touched. "You're not in a position to give orders." She caught my wrist with her free hand before I could slip it under my skirt. Her grip was firm, not hard. She was reminding me of my place beneath her.

"I'm sorry, Grace." I was nearly sobbing with desperation now, straining against my panties and her hand. "I swear I won't give you orders. I swear I'll be good in any way you want. Just let me cum."

Grace slipped her hand under my skirt, pulled aside my panties, and gave my dick a smooth stroke. I whimpered and she pushed the skirt down with her wrist so she could watch her hand firmly jerking me off. "What a slut you are, begging to cum in my hand. You have one minute to come, slut. Then I tie you up and leave." With anyone else, I would have been ashamed. But Grace never made me feel ashamed. Never made me feel my identity or my sexuality was a spectacle to be regarded or poked at. She took for me what I was, and she coaxed out my inner desires. It didn't take much coaxing either. Soon I began to shudder and a wave of white-hot pleasure overcame my senses. I groaned and squirmed under her but she kept stroking until my orgasm passed and I lay panting and speechless on the couch.

I could feel the pressure relieved from my body and I could hear the running of a faucet. I could only stare at the ceiling as I came down, any semblance of coherent thought still forming. Then Grace was back at my side, wiping me clean with a damp cloth.

"Grace. Oh god." I could barely my head turn to look at her.

Grace nudged me against the back of the couch and cuddled up next to me, holding me. "Good girl. My good girl. You were brave back there. Brave and beautiful. I'm proud of you."

I wanted to speak but didn't know what to say. So instead I nuzzled into the space between Grace's chin and shoulder and took refuge in her warmth.

***

I woke up with Grace still holding me. "Good morning," I mumbled. It must have been afternoon.

Grace stroked my cheek with her finger again and I wanted to melt into her. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Incredible." I lay against her for a minute, listening to her breathing. "I had no idea you felt that way about me, Grace."

"I have for some time," she said. "It's tricky though. I don't do vanilla dating. My last two partners both assured me they liked the idea of being submissive." She sighed and her hand stopped stroking. "I found out in a hurry that idea doesn't always synchronize with practice. Feelings were hurt on both sides, and I stopped dating for a time. When you admitted to wanting more, I decided I would take a chance and suggest something. I didn't think it would go so far, but I also didn't think you would be so enthusiastic."

"I didn't know it could feel like that," I said, shifting my head so I could stroke her hand with my cheek. Everything in me was warm and buzzy. "Thank you for trusting me with your kinky side."

"Oh, you sweet flower, you." Grace kissed me, a gentle loving kiss. "What we did wasn't kink, it was just an introduction. I'm still scared that if I show you my full self I'll scare you off."

"Huh. I thought the same thing about you for a while. On account of, you know..." My voice trailed off. Grace only smiled and kissed me again so I changed the subject. "Was that your paper Will read out the other day?"

Grace nodded. "I was disappointed you were with someone else. Maybe I was a little jealous. I wanted to get a rise out of you and I didn't think in the moment how the others would react. Forgive me, Rose."

"It's fine. It worked out in the end, didn't it? Sometimes you need someone to remind you of what you want, and I want you." I put a hand around her back and massaged her shoulder blade. Being with Grace was everything I'd fantasized about. She had the excitement factor along with this protective side that made me feel so love. So safe. "Wait." I did a double take. "Does this mean you have nine pairs of handcuffs?"

Grace ran a series of kisses from lips down to my neck. "Mmm. I can't wait to introduce you to each of them."