15. Arlene

FIFTEEN

Arlene

I whimpered. “Please stop that.”

“I’m whisking the egg like you told me!”

“No, you’re not.” I huffed. “You’re trying to beat it into submission, and that’s just not…”

“Beat it into submission, huh?” Claude teased.

This was why I’d said I’d be a terrible teacher. They made me all jittery and flustered with just a pointed look. “ Angles , Claude.”

“So disrespectful,” they had the nerve to say.

The audacity. I was trying here, dammit.

“You’re infuriating.”

“I am not.” They even stuck their tongue out.

It was a new side of them I was only starting to see. Baking with me seemed to bring it forward extra hard, but Claude could be playful, and silly, and not think twice of it. In the meantime, I felt just as messy as I always did, but weirdly enough, not out of balance.

I fit in their place, with their very lacking-in-everything kitchen and the TV they barely used.

It had been less than a month, and Dylan kept giving me weird looks whenever I brought up Claude’s name—or whenever I looked a certain way because he caught me thinking about them, honestly. It didn’t matter. For once, it really didn’t. Being here, doing whatever I was doing with them, made sense.

“Just whisk properly, please.”

This was only our second “baking” date. The first one had ended up consisting of me doing everything while Claude watched. Maybe we should get back to that format. It felt safer, for everyone and everything involved.

“I wanna use my strap-on on you tonight,” Claude announced.

I squeaked, almost dropping the cup of water I’d just filled up. “And this is the best moment to let me know?”

“Obviously.” Claude shrugged. “I have a ribbed dildo I think you’ll really like.”

I needed air. I seriously needed air.

I also needed them to stop teasing me, or…

Before I could string words together, Claude was there. They took the bowl from me and placed it on the counter, then they were walking me backwards until my ass pressed against the sink.

“Breathe,” they reminded me.

I nodded. Right after, their lips were on me. I was getting more used to their brand of physical touch, more familiar with the way their relationship with touch worked. Claude had explained it better the other day, too. As they’d said the first night, they didn’t look at me and want to jump my bones, but they craved being close to me, and they craved pleasing me.

I knew there was more there—more that had to do with the video they weren’t ready to talk about yet. I could ignore it, though. It turned out that it was much easier to focus on the way I felt—and the way Claude made me feel—rather than what should or shouldn’t be when I settled into a… role.

To be honest, D/s was still strange to think about. I really hadn’t accounted for any of this when I dared to attend the munch at Randy’s. It had just been an experiment, something to do so that I could feel proud of myself for it later. I never thought I’d find myself with a Domm—or that I’d find one in a YouTuber I used to follow back in college.

A sigh escaped my lips as Claude’s hands gripped my waist tighter.

“I just wanna point out, you’re the one who said our relationship had to be more than sex.”

Claude nipped my jaw. “You’re very distracting.”

“Thank you?” My voice went higher, breathier.

It didn’t take much for Claude to take me there.

Subspace.

It was the one thing in kink I seemed to have grown excessively familiar with over the past few weeks. Claude teased that I was a natural. They once mentioned it took some subs a lot of training to go as deep as I did. I just ignored them. Even if it was the result of over-the-top hormones that didn’t know how to chill, subspace just made sense to me.

It was safe, and quiet, but it was also one of the most exhilarating states of mind.

“We should finish up these muffins.”

“We’ve barely started,” I had enough presence of mind to point out.

Claude just shrugged, that smirk making a comeback to their face. “What I said.”

“Uh huh.”

Unlike Claude, their back already turned as they strode back to the kitchen island so they could keep whisking that egg—properly, this time—I needed a second to regroup.

“ T hat wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I rolled my eyes. Claude had just taken the muffins out of the oven. They seemed to be doing just fine, whereas I couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d said. The strap-on, and the ribbed dildo, and the way their body felt when they pressed against me.

“Are we going to your room now?”

Maybe I was exploring a side of me that took after them on the impatient front. I couldn’t say I was sorry.

Claude laughed. “I suppose I shouldn’t keep you waiting.”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

Orgasm control was definitely not something I was good at—or anything that had to do with delayed gratification, really. It had never been my thing, and it wasn’t going to start being my thing now.

“Who’s the Domm here?”

I didn’t bother answering, but I did follow their lead from earlier and just headed upstairs. For all they complained, Claude didn’t hesitate to follow right after me. Being inside the room was not enough, though. They’d turned teasing me into a fine art, and not rushing through things was the best way to do it. They’d learned that one fast, too.

So, before I could turn around and try to decipher the expression in Claude’s face, or drown in the want reflected in their blue eyes, I started disrobing.

I tried to, at least, Claude’s hands on mine the second they realized what I was doing.

“I want you to try something new.”

I panted. “What do you want?”

The truth was, I’d try pretty much anything they’d set their mind on.

“Take off your underwear and get on the bed. Dress stays on.”

“Claude,” I warned.

“I know you said you prefer being naked when you’re touching yourself,” they said. I breathed. I hadn’t gone straight to assuming they hadn’t been listening, but there was validation in hearing my words repeated back. “But this isn’t masturbating. This is me fucking you, and I think you’re going to be into how dirty it can feel when you’re being fucked while fully clothed. Mostly.”

Shit.

Well, when they put it like that.

I squirmed, my bottom lip trapped between my teeth. It was all Claude needed to see to know I was in whatever new plan of theirs this was.

I didn’t want to do anything about it, but I shouldn’t be this easy to read.

Probably.

Oh, well.

Claude made quick work of everything once I was how they wanted me on the bed. I tracked them as they grabbed lube, and a condom, and the ribbed dildo they’d taunted me with. They took off their pants then, quickly slipping on the strap. I was transfixed by the simple act. Something about it had every nerve ending in my body screaming with newfound need.

I thought that after they’d adjusted the strap in the right place, they’d be on me. Apparently, Claude had something else to grab from their nightstand.

My mouth dried up when I saw what it was—their wand. I’d used it on them more times since that first night I’d spent here. I was still intimidated by it.

“I should let you know what I’m planning, huh?”

“Uh… Yes?” I cleared my throat.

I hadn’t meant it as a question, but my voice had tilted up of its own volition. Claude would have to deal because there wasn’t a lot more I could do. It was either that or not saying anything at all while the knot in my throat grew.

“Gonna fuck you like I said, but I read somewhere your taint is super sensitive, so I wanna use my wand on it.”

“It is,” I moaned, my mouth parted.

It really was. I loved pressing the pads of my finger against that canal of smooth skin when I was on my own.

“Good.” Claude looked worryingly pleased with the confirmation. “So we’re doing that.”

“Yeah.”

I’d love to say the opposite, but I really wanted to do it, too—even if Hitachi wands still looked intimidating. It couldn’t be more intense than nipple clamps, right? I just had to center myself. Preferably, I wouldn’t get distracted by Claude dripping half a bottle of lube down my crack, but… No such luck.

It was cold, too. I hissed. They’d done it on purpose, and I both hated and loved them for it. Realizing I was a slut for sensation play had both pros and cons, as it turned out. With a tease like Claude for a Domm, I saw more of the cons than the pros, but I just happened to be a slut for those too.

The thought had me squirming. I grabbed on to a fistful of sheets, letting my head rest to the side against the pillow.

“There’s something else,” Claude spoke at the same time as my body stiffened with the feel of the dildo against my entrance.

I breathed through it. Knowing Claude—or starting to—they could be talking about anything and everything.

“What is it?” I whined.

Another development was in learning that I could be whiny as fuck. I was still figuring out how I felt about it, or how far I could push it before it became too much—either for Claude, or, let’s face it, for me.

Claude leaned down against me, until their teeth grazed over my shoulder. It was a tease, but it was a silent command for my body to relax, too, to sink into that space where not much mattered.

“After I’m done with you, I want you to grab the wand, and I want you to keep me coming until I pass out from it.”

I gasped—well, I tried to; there wasn’t enough air in the room for me to fully manage it. “Okay.”

Okay might not be the most proper, but it was all I could come up with. It was a good thing Claude wasn’t one for protocol.

I wouldn’t make it long if I had to be all “Yes, Ser,” “No, Ser.” It was nothing personal, but I just couldn’t see myself doing it. I had to be formal enough with certain clients, all “Ma’am” this, and “Sir” that. It was hard enough to remember during my work hours.

I didn’t want to add that struggle outside of work, too.

“Where did you go to?”

Shit.

Claude chuckled, but embarrassment filled me. I didn’t know why I drifted in the middle of things sometimes. I didn’t like it, either.

“Sorry.”

I shifted my hips from side to side. Maybe I could entice them into… something. Forgetting that I was an absolute mess? That sounded about right. I knew Claude didn’t think of me that way, but being a mess was not something I could change.

I was lucky that some people found it charming—Claude amongst them, all complaints aside.

“Hmm,” Claude teased. Their finger circled my rim before going lower, brushing against my taint. I let out a low moan. I was also lucky that Claude was in even more of a given mood than usual. “You’re going to open up so well for me, aren’t you?”

I didn’t need to answer, but I still grunted out a yes. It felt wrong to just stay there and take it. I wanted to get better at it—talking while all my senses were overloaded with Claude.

I’d read the forums about the dangers of subspace when it became a place that kept you from being able to check in with your Domm. I didn’t want to make anything about us dangerous—as sappy as it could sound.

“I will,” I emphasized, “I will, Claude.”

“I know you will,” they teased. The tip of the dildo was back against my hole. Claude didn’t breach me with it right away, but they tested the give in my skin. They added more pressure, more and more, until the head popped in. “That’s right. Fuck, the sounds you make, gorgeous.”

I half-groaned, half-whined. Claude loved giving praise while they played with my body. It was hot, but it also left me not knowing what to say, and unable to hide. They were always extra crass, too—something else I was sure they did on purpose because their cursing left me more unsettled, made me more flustered.

“Please, please, please.” I chanted.

I needed to feel full, to be stretched wide for them. Claude seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace. It was torturous. I moaned, whimpered, begged even if I was sure the words were unintelligible. I was beginning to understand that anticipation could feel heavier than any kind of play there was.

Claude’s hand petted my side, softly. It was barely there, but I was acutely aware of it. I was always aware of everything with them. I couldn’t not be. I wouldn’t know where to start, if we were being perfectly honest.

“Patience,” they drawled.

I didn’t bother answering. Just because we didn’t have a dynamic where punishments and discipline were a thing didn’t mean I wanted to try my luck.

They still held all the power.

I just whimpered and cried for more. Not even half of the ribbed dildo was inside of me, but the little bumps sent zings of electricity up my body every time they rubbed against my walls. It was not enough, though.

“I just have to get this going before I fuck you for real.”

I panted. I had no idea what they were talking about, but I didn’t have time to ponder. Two seconds later, a buzz I was increasingly familiar with filled the air. I inhaled, holding my breath, my body still.

Claude tutted.

It didn’t change anything until it was clear that they weren’t moving until I got my shit together.

A shiver ran down my spine as I let go of the tension. As intimidated as I was by their favorite toy, my need for them won out. I had to please them, to let them use my body however they wanted. I just had to. It had soon become my drug, the one thing that sent me into an ecstasy like no other.

Those thoughts didn’t prepare me for the way a Hitachi wand would feel, though. I would’ve probably jumped, if Claude wasn’t pinning me down—as if they’d known, and they’d somehow predicted the way I’d react. It wouldn’t surprise me. Claude had taken on the mission to play my body like an instrument they were a virtuoso of. They were succeeding, too.

“Claude, please,” I groaned.

It was too much, all the nerve bundles that met there screaming and begging and crying, spreading the overwhelming sensation as far as they could reach until I wasn’t sure I could hold myself up.

As it happened, it didn’t matter. Claude had plans that didn’t involve me on my knees. No, just as they found the perfect spot where the head of the wand reached all my sensitive spots, they impaled me on their dildo.

I screamed, falling forward. Claude followed easily, not slowing, or letting the wand slip. I bit on the pillow, and they bit on my shoulder.

My clit was squashed against the mattress, hard, in desperate need of friction, but unable to do anything about it—and I loved it, the heady feeling inundating everything that surrounded me.

“That’s right,” Claude whispered. “Ride it all for me, Arlene. Just ride it.”

I cried out. The soothing tone as they spoke contradicted the way they were abusing my hole, all of me. I didn’t want them to stop. They couldn’t stop, not without breaking a part of me I wasn’t aware of until recently.

Claude knew.

They knew everything. How else could they eclipse everything, to push every single button there was until I was dragged to that space where everything slowed down? Everything lost meaning, but had more meaning at the same time, somehow. Perhaps the dichotomy of it was what drew me to it, what had me begging to stay there for as long as Claude would have me.

My vision stayed hazy, almost completely black, and I let out contented sighs in between the moans and whimpers and groans that slipped past my lips on their own.

That was, until Claude yanked me back. Their arm wrapped around my shoulders as they pulled me to my knees. My chest heaved up and down as I blinked back the haze.

“Remember what you have to do, gorgeous?”

As if I might’ve forgotten, Claude drew the wand higher. They must’ve upped the settings, too, the vibrations stronger and faster and more punishing.

I cried out. The new angle was too much, everywhere. Claude didn’t stop, though. They’d checked in on me more often at the beginning, but not since they realized what a slut for punishment I was, in their words. When they’d first said it out loud, I’d shrunk, feeling embarrassed. I wasn’t sure the words had fit, either, but as they explained punishment could have a unique meaning just for us…

It had made sense. Everything about what they did to my body made sense. I’d soon learned that it was better not to question it.

“Yes,” I rasped out the word.

I remembered. I just couldn’t hold on like this, even if I wanted to. Every fiber of my being screamed with the need to do as they wanted to, to please them the way they wanted to.

It turned out, I was only human. My body was not trained enough to sustain everything. Claude saw it before I could collapse on my own, pushing me with them until I could hold on to the sheets again.

“Good girl.” Their voice was ragged as they spoke against my skin. Shivers spread from where their lips ghosted it. I cried out. “That’s it. Just a little longer.”

That little longer felt like the longest time. It was torture, and a blessing, all rolled into one. Infernal hell mixed in with heavenly bliss. It rolled through every cell of my body until I couldn’t tell which way was up and which way was down.

I didn’t suppose it mattered much. It didn’t change anything.

Claude was still in control of every inch of my body.

They knew what to do with it, too—not that I’d doubted it.

“Do you want to come?”

That was something new, too, something that had started when I admitted that I didn’t always come, or want to, that sometimes sex was about comfort and validating my body, and little else. It was about the mental aspects more than the physical ones. The physical aspect could detract from an experience, sometimes. Something about it had resonated with Claude that day.

They didn’t question it, either, when I shook my head. I just wanted to bask in the way my skin tingled with need, to vibrate with the need to be theirs.

And I wanted to go to them in an hour, or a few hours, completely desperate and at their mercy because I couldn’t hold everything inside anymore.

“Good girl,” Claude purred the words. “You’re so good for me. So fucking pliant and obedient and desperate to please.”

I really was. I’d stopped wondering what it meant for me, too. Well, I still did sometimes, when I was on my own, and I didn’t have anyone or anything to center me, to ground me.

It didn’t matter, though.

The vibrations stopped first.

My body jerked in response, in shock at the way the sudden absence felt. It almost felt like something had misfired, like an intrinsic part of me was missing. It didn’t matter that I’d tried to run away from its intensity at one point.

The dildo pulled out next. I whimpered, biting on my lip. Its absence was more familiar, less shocking. I still mourned it, still shifted my hips around as if I could entice it back.

“That’s it. It’s okay.”

I didn’t know that it was. I didn’t know that it mattered, but then Claude was pulling my sweaty hair off my face, and they were kissing down my neck. And then it really didn’t matter. Only they did, only they managed to matter.

“I need…”

Air.

A second.

Them.

Too many things to put into words, to make sense of.

“I know,” Claude breathed.

I chose to believe that they really did.