Say Please: Lesbian BDSM Erotica (3 page)

Read Say Please: Lesbian BDSM Erotica Online

Authors: Sinclair Sexsmith,Miriam Zoila Perez,Wendi Kali,Rachel Kramer Bussel,Gigi Frost,BB Rydell,Amelia Thornton,Dilo Keith,Vie La Guerre,Anna Watson

BOOK: Say Please: Lesbian BDSM Erotica
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To anyone watching, it would’ve looked like what it was: a slap in the face, a blow across her cheek, something at least a little mean, harsh, powerful, something that must have hurt and brought tears to Amber’s eyes. And it was, certainly, all of those things—Jade would never have denied that it was one of the most powerful ways you could strike someone—but it wasn’t unwanted; in fact, Amber thought it was the hottest thing she’d ever done, and she’d been to, and participated in, her share of extreme play parties. She looked up at Jade and realized that her fantasies had been fulfilled, technically, but not all the way; her face tingled in anticipation of the next slap. She suddenly wished she’d worn her matching leopard-print panties, the silky ones that rode up her ass, because her wetness was starting to trickle down her thigh. She liked it, even more than when Jade slapped her at home; she liked it so much she was torn between stepping between Jade’s jeans-clad legs and pressing their bodies tight together and what she wound up choosing, looking right up into her girlfriend’s eyes, letting her see the tears that shimmered there.
“You want me to slap you again, don’t you?” Jade’s voice was low, deep, quiet enough that only Amber could hear. Jade kept the tremor out of it, the awe that this creature was letting her do the most wicked things to her and kept wanting to push the envelope.
“Yes, Jade, I do.” Amber let a tear fall because she didn’t totally understand why she liked it, she just knew she did, and she wanted people to know. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. She couldn’t honestly say she wanted people to know about her predilection for being smacked, but the fact that now, finally, they did, after so many months of fantasizing, made her pussy feel like it was both tightening and expanding all at once.
This time, Jade tenderly held her hand against one of Amber’s cheeks, the pristine one, and with the other raked her short nails down the edge of the other. She waited, toying with her, trying to ignore their surroundings, because the exhibitionism was really Amber’s thing, though she couldn’t deny she got a small thrill from being so controlling in so public a location. Then she did it again, a smack that reverberated through her palm, skin striking skin, and again. Jade stepped forward and shoved her knee between Amber’s legs, pressed her mouth against her ear. “Thank me for it, or I won’t do it again.”
“Thank you, Jade. I love you.” Amber hadn’t meant to say that, but it came out in a rush. There were moments when she was afraid of Jade, but she liked those moments, she liked the way those moments spurred her on to be more daring, to let herself get pushed farther off what felt like a precipice, until everything she had was Jade’s for the taking.
“Let’s go,” Jade said, plucking Amber’s half-full glass from her hand and placing it on the bar, then rushing her outside, while Amber scrambled to put her pink fake-fur coat back on before they entered the chilly night. Jade would’ve stayed, but what was bubbling up inside her was too fierce for public consumption. There’s no way the patrons of that bar would ever have understood what she wanted to do to Amber; the truth was, she hardly understood it herself, but she knew it filled something primal within her, something that made her feel like she was enacting an ancient ritual, a hunt-or-be-hunted animalistic desire to go for the kill. Slapping Amber, beating her, tying her down, choking her, all took Jade’s breath away as much as they did Amber’s, though she didn’t have the freedom to show it quite as much. “Why are you shaking?” Amber had once asked after a particularly cruel, intense scene. Jade had just shaken her head, not having any further answer.
This time, she wanted Amber quiet, even though she usually loved the noises the girl made. She pulled Amber into an alley she’d scoped out beforehand. The wind whipped around them as Jade pressed Amber against the brick, then slapped her face as hard as she could. Amber let out a cry, her nostrils flaring, her body straining against its own desires. Jade knew there was a part of Amber that was horrified at just how much she liked being slapped, and an even bigger part that was in awe of how little it took for the sensitive skin on her face to make her dizzyingly wet. Amber liked to be hit all over her body, but there were some spots she liked best. Her face. Her pussy. Her tits, especially the nipples, all areas Jade had mostly shied away from with her previous play partners, by request.
Amber wanted it, and the first time she’d done it, Amber had come with a ferociousness Jade had never seen, while her own arousal had been different than anything that had come before. “I want you to walk up to me at a bar and slap my face, so everyone can see,” Amber had e-mailed her a month ago, and ever since, Jade had been fantasizing about doing just that. Now that she had, she wanted so much more. She wanted someone to help her, but that would have to happen another time. For now it was just the two of them, ready for anything.
“Put your hands above your head,” Jade said, partly to see if Amber would do it, partly to watch her breasts thrust forward with the movement. “Good girl,” she told her. She looked closely at her girlfriend’s beautiful face, so pale, so sensitive. The wind was competing with her hand in coloring her flesh, but Jade didn’t mind. It had taken her a while to get used to the fact that she liked slapping Amber, liked hurting her, liked seeing the tears rush to her eyes as she looked up at her so desperately.
Amber was biting her lower lip, and Jade used her fingers to pry her lips apart. “You told me you want this, Amber. If you flinch or fidget or look like you don’t, I’m not going to do it.”
“I do want it,” Amber exclaimed, the words tripping over themselves. “I want you to slap me. I want you to hurt me. I want you to slap me so hard my ears ring.” Amber kept looking up at Jade even though Jade sensed she wanted to close her eyes, to pretend that somehow it wasn’t her saying those perverse, filthy words. Because they were extremely perverse; asking to be slapped made it all completely real. Amber couldn’t pretend Jade was some dominating brute, at least, not entirely.
Jade liked it when Amber watched, when Amber saw her hand coming, when she anticipated the pain. “I have a present for you,” she said, and reached into her jeans pocket, the jangling of the clamps loud in her ears. Amber’s eyes widened, and the hint of fear Jade saw, the hint that warmed her heart even as she prepared to tighten them around Amber’s nipples, made Jade smile. Amber was so open, whether by choice or design or a little of both; she could never hide her feelings, not like some girls Jade had played with who only truly let go when they were under the most extreme erotic distress. Jade could play the too-cool-for-school game too—but she didn’t want to.
She leaned down and pressed her body tight against Amber’s, kissing her roughly. “Take out your tits,” she said, “and hurry, or I’ll have to do it for you.” They both knew that “do it for you” was code for “rip your top off and send all the tiny buttons flying to the floor,” because Jade had done it before, with a hundred-dollar top (though she’d bought a replacement for Amber later).
Still, Amber rushed to unbutton her blouse and take out her breasts as soon as Jade stepped back to give her room, and the sight floored Jade, even though she’d seen those glorious globes so many times before. There was still something awe-inspiring about their weight, their eagerness to be touched and abused. Amber’s tits were like a work of art, and were Jade’s favorite part of her body. “Pinch those nipples for me,” Jade said, allowing Amber to bring her hands down. Amber started to lightly grab them between her thumbs and forefingers, much too lightly for Jade.
“No,” she said fiercely. “Pinch them. Like this.” And with that she slapped Amber’s hands away and pinched and pulled at the same time, then twisted, watching Amber’s face contort as she did, knowing it was making her wet, knowing too that the longer she did it, the more Amber was contemplating using her safeword, “strawberry,” a fruit she hated but ate when it was the only polite thing to do. Similarly, Amber hated to have to resort to her safeword, and only had once, when her leg cramped up.
When Jade was done, she let Amber’s breasts go, watching them bounce lightly before settling where they should be. Then she clamped one hand over Amber’s mouth and slapped her tits, slapped them hard enough to feel the sting in her right palm, to see the marks on Amber’s breasts, a defiant red. This brought out the wild beast in Jade, the one who wanted to claw and bite and grind Amber into the ground, the one that liked watching her struggle, feeling her lips pressing against her hand as she then switched to flicking her middle finger against her thumb and then right at the bull’s-eye of each nipple.
She finally let go, both of them breathing heavily. “Now you’re ready,” Jade said, and Amber gave her another of those almost painful looks, one that seemed to beg her not to put the clamps on while also swearing she’d leave her if she didn’t. Jade took Amber’s now-sore nipples, one at a time, and attached the clamps, pushing the rubber-covered lever just a little bit higher than she knew Amber would have, before taking the metal chain holding them together and shoving it into Amber’s mouth. “Bite down hard, sweetie, because if you let go, I’m out of here.” She slapped her face again, to see what Amber would do. She bit down harder on the chain, breathed in deeply through her nose.
And then Jade went to work on Amber’s pussy. She hadn’t intended, originally, to go this far in public. They’d been outside long enough that they could, reasonably, be noticed, and Amber was a knockout even when they weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, drawing catcalls and sometimes a little too much attention. But Jade couldn’t have stopped herself from reaching between her girlfriend’s legs and slipping her fingers inside her if she’d wanted to. Of course Amber wasn’t wearing panties, and of course Amber was wet. Jade looked up, looked at Amber’s eyes—full, wide, riveted on hers, her teeth clamped around the metal chain, her body saying, in a language that needed no words,
Take Me
. And Jade did, no longer on quite the power trip she’d been on before, but now intent on giving something back.
She worked her fingers in the familiar ways she’d grown to learn Amber liked, navigating her insides, feeling her press back against her in response. Usually this was when Amber let out a stream of dirty words, or Jade did, or both of them did, but this time, Jade was silent as she pushed three fingers deep into Amber’s pussy, and then four, because she needed to be as far as she could go. She felt a slight twinge in her wrist as she shifted, sinking to her knees so she could peek up Amber’s skirt; the sight of her hand in Amber’s cunt never failed to make her swell with pride. She kept going, not needing to rattle the chain, not needing to slap or hit or hurt Amber any more, because she knew Amber could still feel the glow of the pain, the sweet sting from getting exactly what she wanted. Then Jade couldn’t resist, and pressed her head against Amber for a quick taste of her clit, a quick suck on her engorged bud that had Amber twisting her hips in response.
That was what did it; that stroke of her tongue had Amber coming hard, coming so she crushed Jade’s hand just the way she liked it. When Jade felt Amber relax, she pulled her hand out, then got out a wet wipe, because she was a top who came prepared. “Let go,” she said, taking the chain from Amber’s teeth with her own, both of them still hungry. She released the clamps slowly, heard Amber’s loud gasp as the blood rushed back into her nipples. Jade untied Amber’s wrists and pulled her clothes back in place. They’d been out there maybe ten minutes, Jade guessed; not long, but enough time to do what she needed to do. Jade took Amber’s hand and led it between her legs. She was packing. She kept it there as they walked home, where it would be Jade’s turn to get exactly what she wanted.
HOUSEWIFE
 
Gigi Frost
 
 
 
 
 
 
for Mel
 
I
flip through the hangers, passing over black knit skirts and clingy print dresses, looking for something in cotton that’s not totally wrinkled, and find a pink dress with scalloped edges, short sleeved, a thrift-store find passed on from a friend, which I’ve never worn. I hang it in the bathroom and start the shower. Under too-hot water I run my hand over my cunt, feeling the swelling of my labia. I’ve been turned on all day, taking frequent breaks from data entry to masturbate on my bed, thinking about begging for forgiveness under her hand.
Stockings first, then garter belt, then panties. I slide slippers on over my seamed stockings and boil potatoes, slice tofu, rub a loaf of bread with garlic and olive oil. The timing of dinner is tricky. When it’s half-finished I fix my hair, change into heels, and put on lipstick and powder. She texts me when she gets off the subway. I spend five more minutes on the computer, then shut it down and return to the kitchen. I let myself make a mess, bang pots and pans around, get out the gin and a cheap pink cocktail shaker my sister gave me for my birthday. I’ve never made a martini before, but she’s a confirmed beer drinker and not an expert at drinking them, either.
I hear her at the door, making more noise than is needed with her keys. I pour the drink with shaking hands and open the door. Seeing her, it’s hard to stay in character, hard not to throw my arms around her and ask about her day supervising the queer legal counseling line.
“Hi, honey.” She takes the drink, cups my face with her other hand for a kiss. “How’s my beautiful wife?”
“I, um. Why don’t I take your bag and you can have your drink in the living room while I finish dinner?”

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