Writing Sexuality 02

"Yes," I gasped. The thought that this was real, that I was lying here, this helpless, sucking my advisor's cock clean, felt simultaneously impossible and perfect. I couldn't believe that mere hours ago, we had been in Beth's office, having a perfectly professional conversation.

After a few agonizing moments of anticipation, I felt Beth's weight on the bed again. This time, she pushed me back onto my knees, supporting my weight as she slid underneath me. Then her hands were by my face, and the blindfold fell away, flooding my eyes with the sight of her naked, ivory curves underneath me.

"About time I got to enjoy that desperate face," Beth teased, before carefully lowering me onto the dildo. She pushed inside me gently this time, watching my face for signs of discomfort. The second I was comfortable, she began to fuck me hard again. My face contorted with pleasure and I was aware of her watching me as her hand slid down to my clit.

"Fuck, Beth, I-" I needed to tell her to stop. The pressure was building up quickly, she was so deep inside me and she was circling my clit just right. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. It felt too good. My mouth was frozen, open in a silent scream, my body too consumed by pleasure to form words.

The climax crashed down on me and I collapsed forwards, writhing on top of Beth as wave after wave coursed through my body. The world went white. For a few blissful moments, there was nothing -- no rules, no consequences, just undiluted pleasure.

Then I came back to reality. Beth's arms closed around me, encircling my body and caressing my back as my climax ebbed. For a few long, beautiful moments her touch was soft and tender and her lips traced kisses on my neck. Then, once my breathing steadied, she spoke.

"Did I not tell you what would happen?" She growled into my ear. Her voice sounded cold, but tentative. She was testing the waters.

"I'm sorry," I stammered quickly, "it felt too good, I couldn't-"

"Rules are rules, Rosa," she cut me off and pushed me up onto my knees, staring intently into my eyes. I bit my lip nervously as Beth slid out from underneath me and stood up, sliding the harness off in a smooth movement. She grabbed me by my cuffed arms and pulled me to my feet, before sitting down on the end of the bed. I felt helpless and exposed, standing in front of her, my hands cuffed, my body glistening with sweat. "Bend over," she ordered firmly, looking down at her lap.

I obeyed, clumsily, bending over Beth's knees so that my bare ass was at her mercy, the rest of my weight supported by Beth's lap and the bed.

"Do you remember your safeword?" She asked softly. I nodded. "Do you need to use it now?"

"No," I replied decisively. I was a little scared, but this was also incredibly exciting. I had toyed with spanking before, but never like this.

"Good," Beth said curtly, a split second before her hand collided with my ass cheek. I gasped -- this was harder than any of her other slaps had been. She gave me a couple of seconds to recover, brushing loose hair away from my face. "Okay?" She asked, and I nodded.

The second slap was harder, and followed by two more in quick succession. I yelped. Each time, the sound of the blow echoed off the walls, driving home the humiliation. Beth kept going.

"I. Don't. Appreciate. Disobedience." She enunciated clearly between slaps. Soon my ass was stinging. She slowed down, pausing to gently stroke the throbbing skin between blows. Her soft touch felt agonizingly good.

"I'm sorry-"

"Quiet." Another sharp slap. I whimpered quietly. I hadn't expected this to become so overwhelming, so fast. My ass was on fire, and my cheeks burned with humiliation. Her hand grazed over my cunt and I became suddenly aware of just how wet my predicament was making me.

"You like this, don't you?" Beth purred, teasing my cunt with a light touch. I nodded, and another hard slap found my ass. "Answer me."

"Yes," I gasped. Another hard slap.

"Answer me properly."

"Yes, I like being punished. It turns me on."

"Good."

Despite Beth's clear pleasure at my answer, another flurry of loud, resonant slaps followed. I had just begun to wonder how much longer I could take it when Beth stopped, replacing her blows with gentle caresses. I lay there for a few minutes, anticipating the next strike, but none came.

"Good girl," she said quietly after a long pause, uncuffing my hands, "you took that well."

I pushed myself up slowly, and went to sit beside her on the bed. I was dizzy with arousal, despite the throbbing pain as I rested my ass delicately on the bed. Beth caressed my cheek.

"Too far?" She asked. I shook my head.

"Hot," I replied truthfully, and was met with a satisfied smirk.

"I thought so, too." Beth's touch on my cheek changed, from light and caring to firm, pulling me towards her. Pleasure flooded my body as our lips met, enhanced by the emotional intensity of the punishment. My hands instinctively began to roam over Beth's body, and she let them. I savored the rounded swell of her breasts, the contrast between the hard heat of her erect nipples and her smooth, soft waistline. After what we had just done, the kiss felt rapturously intimate and tender.

Beth reached down between her legs and then brought her fingers to my lips, pushing them gently into my mouth as her lips explored my neck and chest. "Taste me," she whispered, and I was all too happy to oblige. Her fingers were soaked, and she tasted incredible. The thought that she was this wet from tormenting me spiked my own arousal even further, and within seconds I had pulled her back onto the bed with me so that we were lying side by side, a tangle of limbs.

"Insubordinate," she muttered teasingly, and I stiffened, "but I'll allow it." I relaxed again, relishing every inch of her body. I rolled on top of her and worked my way down, from her big, perfect breasts to her soft stomach and further, to the neat dark triangle between her legs. Beth was writhing with desire now, and the sight of it felt vindicating after what she had just put me through. I slid down towards the edge of the bed and pulled Beth with me, until I was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed and her legs were draped on either side of me. I began to kiss up the insides of her thighs, with the occasional gentle nip, yielding a range of approving moans and gasps from the goddess above me.

"Fuck, Beth," I gasped as I worked my way closer to her cunt. She propped herself up on her elbows to watch me as I gently parted her lips and kissed towards her clit.

"Look at me," she commanded breathlessly. I obeyed, my eyes meeting hers as my tongue began to circle teasingly around her clit. A hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head closer as her hips ground slowly against my face. The sight of her above me was incredible, and my own clit began to ache with desperation as I dedicated every fiber of my being to hers.

"Touch yourself," Beth gasped, "while you fuck me," she was struggling to get her words out between heavy, lustful breaths. I slid one hand between my legs and the other up to Beth's cunt, pushing inside her as I began to circle my clit. I moaned loudly with delight at the sensation, causing Beth's hips to thrust harder against me. As we both picked up pace, my thighs began to shake with pleasure, and I struggled to maintain my composure enough to keep fucking Beth, who was growing louder and more forceful with every thrust.

As she came, Beth gripped my head with both hands and pressed my head down hard between her legs. I gasped and moaned, overwhelmed by the twin sensations of Beth's convulsions and my own impending climax. Then, just a couple of seconds too soon, she pulled away and pulled me up onto the bed, kissing me feverishly as we lay back together. I slipped a leg between hers, hoping to grind against her thigh. Beth responded by pushing me away from her by the throat, breaking our kiss and smirking darkly at me.

"Oh, you don't get to come again," she purred, relishing the frustration evident on my face.

"Beth, please-" she shook her head, caressing my face teasingly with one hand as the other tightened its grip on my throat.

"I want to look at you across a crowded room and know that you're this desperate. All evening." I groaned and writhed in her grasp. I had come home to prevent being unbearably horny at a boring event, and now was somehow in a worse predicament than before.

Beth was leaning in, placing a series of delicate, fluttering kisses on my face as she held my throat firmly. I could still breathe, but felt completely under her control.

"Promise me you won't touch yourself after I leave," she whispered tantalizingly, in a tone that just made me more desperate.

"I promise," I whispered in spite of myself. It was impossible to deny Beth when she was like this. I felt her lips curl into a smile against my skin, and her kisses continued as she loosened her grip on my neck, letting her hands wander over my body as she pulled me into a tender embrace.

We lay that way for a long few minutes, Beth basking contentedly as I stewed in my frustration. Eventually, with a sigh, she pulled away.

"I should get going," she punctuated this with a kiss on my forehead before rising from the bed. My eyes followed her hungrily, willing her back into bed despite knowing that she was right. We both needed to be on campus in an hour's time, looking professional.

I followed Beth out of the bedroom, wrapping a robe around myself and leaning against the doorframe as she prepared to leave. Once she was dressed, she closed in for another deep kiss, stroking my sides teasingly. Beth's demeanor was calm and collected, whereas I was still a desperate mess, grasping at her hair and pulling her closer. I moaned as she pulled away.

"I'll see you soon," my advisor whispered, a darkly playful twinkle in my eye as she left me alone in the apartment, dizzy with arousal.

I contemplated ignoring her demands and giving myself some satisfaction, but the thought of Beth exerting that much control on my pleasure was too hot to pass up, no matter how uncomfortably desperate I felt. Instead, I showered and changed, determined to look as collected and presentable as possible later that evening.

***

By the time I arrived, the auditorium was bustling. Professor Pembroke wasn't exactly well-liked, but everyone knew that attending the launch event for the department chair's latest book was a compulsory ass-kissing exercise. And, of course, there was the promise of free wine.

I was more formally dressed than earlier, in a tailored wine-red dress that conformed elegantly to my curves. My hair was loose in its natural waves, and I wore a pair of practical but elegant court shoes. I would be lying if I said my choice of outfit was nothing to do with my knowledge that Beth would be present -- and sure enough, as I scanned the room for a free seat, I spotted her, staring right at me. I felt a blush creep up my neck and forced myself to look away, but could still feel her eyes on me. I imagined she was luxuriating in the knowledge that I was desperately horny beneath my composed facade, and the thought did nothing to help my situation.

I identified an empty spot beside some fellow grad students and headed over. On my way up the steps, I stole another glance at Beth and it dawned on me that the tall blonde beside her was none other than her legendary wife. Elle Roseland was a difficult woman to look away from. She was slightly taller than Beth, with sheets of long, perfectly straight golden blond hair and slightly tanned skin. Where Beth was all curves and softness, Elle was all angles -- high, sharp cheekbones and long, wiry limbs. I had never met her in person, but her reputation preceded her: she was a legend in the field of contemporary feminist philosophy, and I had yet to meet anyone who didn't harbor a crush for her.

I did my best to focus my attention on my colleagues instead, slipping easily into routine smalltalk as I approached. As I sat down, though, I winced -- my ass wasn't quite sore enough to hurt constantly, but any pressure ignited a sharp ache through my backside. "I think I pulled something at the gym yesterday," I explained hastily to my colleague, waving away his expression of concern and internally congratulating myself for the hasty and plausible lie.

Prof. Pembroke was making his way to the lectern. He was an unremarkable-looking man, in his early sixties, with a penchant for ill-fitting tweed and an inability to run a lecture or meeting to time. I knew very little about his specialty, but murmurs from my colleagues who worked on Renaissance literature made it clear that his once-groundbreaking work was now lazy and passé. As he shuffled an indecently large pile of paper on the lectern and the buzz of chatter gradually died down, I resigned myself to a lengthy stretch of boredom.

Pembroke launched into a florid introduction to his book. I barely heard a word he said, fixing my gaze on the backs of Elle's and Beth's heads a few rows ahead of me. Beth's interest in me suddenly seemed incomprehensible -- that was her wife, for fuck's sake. Elle was radiant. What could that perfect woman's wife possibly see in a stammering grad student?

Pembroke's talk went on for an eternity, followed by a series of audience questions to which he gave roundabout, inscrutable answers seemingly for the pleasure of speaking into the microphone. I spent each agonizing minute picturing Beth and Elle together, trying to square my perception of their marriage with the afternoon Beth and I had just spent together. My enduring arousal only made the situation worse, filling my belly with a desperate ache that made sitting still agony. By the time people began to file out to the reception hall, I was in desperate need of a glass of wine.

I slipped between the crowds as discreetly as I could, determined to down a glass of free swill, congratulate Pembroke, and leave as hastily as possible. As I weaved between the faculty's numerous cliques, glass in hand, a light touch on my shoulder stopped me in my tracks. I froze in my spot, recognizing the thrill that ran through my body instantaneously.

"Rosa," Beth's hand rested lightly on my shoulder as I turned to face her. From the outside, the gesture must have looked innocent enough, but my heart began to race instantly. I spotted Elle by Beth's side and the telltale heat of a blush began to creep up my neck.

"I don't think you two have met -- Elle, this is Rosa, my advisee," Beth said warmly, steering me gently out of the crowd and towards Elle, who smiled in my direction -- radiant, perfect. From up close, it was obvious that she was a few years older than Beth. The skin around her eyes and mouth creased slightly when she smiled, in a way that only seemed to add to her distinguished brand of beauty.

"It's great to finally meet you, Rosa, I've heard so much about you." Elle's voice was a low, smooth purr, perfectly modulated, but there was an edge in there somewhere -- a glint of mischief. She knows, a voice said inside me. But that was ridiculous, I thought. There was nothing about her demeanor that could be read as jealous or resentful. Instinctively, trying to read the situation, I stole a glance in Beth's direction, and noticed a slight curl to her lip. I forced myself to look back at Elle, whose smile remained in place but whose eyes were searching, curious.

"Likewise," I replied, attempting to mirror her ease, and failing. I heard the slight crack in my voice, and cursed myself internally. I continued, trying to steer the conversation back to safety -- if there was a chance that Elle didn't know what I thought she knew, I couldn't let my pathetic nerves give me away. "I'm quite starstruck, actually. Your work has been really important to my research for years -- I first read Between Lovers for my senior thesis and your account of the phenomenology of sapphic power exchanges was eye-opening."

I was proud of the ease with which the words tumbled off my tongue, and of my ability to rapidly claw my way back into academic networking mode and away from...whatever had just happened. Elle, too, appeared more readable, smiling with the practiced modesty of someone used to receiving effluvient praise from starry-eyed grad students. It was only after the words left my lips that I realized I had chosen the worst possible example from her illustrious body of work, digging myself right into a dangerous conversational predicament. I thought I saw a glimmer of amusement in Beth's eyes as I took a long sip of my wine.

"God, you'd think they'd bring out the good stuff for the chair's book launch," I added hastily, comically exaggerating my disgust at the lukewarm white wine in the hope of moving the conversation on. Beth and Elle both chuckled obligingly, and I congratulated myself internally for the smooth recovery. This was manageable, I decided. This was just some light smalltalk with Beth and her wife, nothing I couldn't handle.

"We were actually just about to make an exit to somewhere with decent wine, weren't we, honey?" Elle replied, draping a willowy arm around Beth and caressing her shoulder lightly. Then she turned to me, and fixed me in a green, feline gaze. "Come to think of it, Rosa, why don't you join us? I hear you've had an article accepted, I would love to hear more."

My jaw dropped. It wasn't unusual for these functions to devolve into evenings of drinking for faculty members, nor was it especially rare for grad students to join them. Under normal circumstances, I would have had no reason to refuse. An invitation to share some wine with none other than Elle Roseland was the sort of thing my colleagues would kill for. But an invitation to share some wine with the wife of the woman who only hours ago had bent me over her lap and spanked me was a considerably less appealing prospect.

"I.." my gaze drifted over to Beth, who nodded encouragingly.

"That's a great idea!" She replied in a tone that seemed genuine. Perhaps, I reasoned, it would make things look weirder if I refused. I took a couple of seconds, downed the last of the acrid department wine, and nodded.

"Sure," I finally responded, plastering a warm smile on my face and trying to keep my voice steady. "Lead the way."