by Cyan
Copyright 2005 by Cyan
All Rights Reserved; No Redistribution.
"You wretch," she said. "You never wrote!"
I stared, momentarily stunned. Donna stood in her front door, giving me what I finally determined was a mock angry look. "Well, get in here!" she said, indicating the way.
But before I'd even taken a step, I found myself enfolded in her arms. "Oh god, I missed you," she said. Then, disengaging, she said "Come in here and let me see you," sounding just a touch like one of my aunts.
"Hi, Donna," I said. She hugged me again, and I couldn't help but consider that she had never hugged me this much before. Well, there had been one time, the day I left, after I graduated.
"Tell me everything!" she said, leading me through her living room. I'd been in the house only once, but remembered it well. "Have you eaten?"
"Oh, thank you," I said, apologetically but genuinely touched. I certainly hadn't stopped by angling for a meal, and the way she offered so enthusiastically made me wish I could stay.
She paused in her dining room, which was, as I recalled, cleared, with the table pushed to one side. "Are you enrolling in graduate school?" she said.
"I've thought about it," I said, hoping she wouldn't pursue that. I'd only been out of school a year and wasn't ready to sit through classes again.
"English?" she said. She looked hopeful, but I could also see she knew I had no real plans. She'd always told me I should have majored in English as an undergraduate. "You obviously love it and you have a real flair for it," she always told me.
"Maybe," I said, and I saw she understood perfectly.
"So," she said, brightening. "What have you been doing? Here, it's the same old thing, another year of classes, and not a single student like you."
I was brought up short for a moment. I suppose she wouldn't have shown me the attention she did unless she liked me, but when she said things like that, I felt over-praised. "I'm working for a company that does a few trade journals, mostly in the medical industries. A bit of editing."
She gave me a look, which I tried to interpret. Disappointment? But then she grinned. "You've got time," she said. "I'll make you tea. I still have Sleepytime."
"You remember?" I said before thinking, but then mulled over whether I really had enough time. But the way she looked at me, I knew I had to stay. Memories of the long conversations we'd had flooded back, and there had been more than one occasion when I felt like I'd have dropped out if it hadn't been for those talks with her.
"Of course I remember what my favorite student, ever, drinks," she said. I felt ready to blush. She had to be exaggerating, of course. She'd never said anything like that when I'd been around, but maybe she felt freer now that I was just a visitor. "Come here a minute," she said, indicating the center of the room.
Puzzled, I followed her lead, then watched her pull the shades down on both the dining room windows. Turning back, she grinned and said, "Take off your clothes."
"What?" I said, more confused than stunned. I couldn't have heard right.
"Take off your clothes," she said. She still smiled, looking perfectly composed.
"Uh..." I was thinking fast, or trying to. Donna? Sure, we'd been close, but--was she that way about women? And me?
"Come on, you can do it," she said.
"Donna, maybe..."
"No," she said, cutting me off. "It's OK. Take them off."
I stared. Her smile grew slightly, if anything. She looked for all the world like someone who expected I would do it. But like this? So abruptly? She might have offered me wine, talked to me, touched me or something. It was so matter-of-fact. "It's all right," she said.
It definitely felt strange. And all the while I did it, I kept asking myself: Donna? She wanted me that way? And I am doing this? Why? I liked Donna, I loved her even. And I knew I owed her. With no place within reach to lay anything, a pile of clothes grew at my feet. "Just a minute," she said, leaving me standing there, naked in her dining room. But she never left the room, turning back around with something in her hand. She approached me. "Put your wrists in here," she said.
It was something cloth. Made of canvas, with a furry lining. Confused, I did as she asked, and she closed it around my wrists, fastening it on. It was a restraint, I finally discerned. Then, in an amazingly deft motion, she threaded a cord through a hole in it and tied it. "Uh..." I said, wondering exactly what I might say to this. In the mean time, she tossed the cord into a swag hook in the ceiling, then in a moment had drawn me so I stood under it, arms drawn straight. She knotted it on another hook on the wall, and after another moment turned around.
She held a piece of tape in her hand. "OK," she said, softly, having approached me. "Close your mouth."
"Donna, I'm scared," I said. And that's all I could say? I was totally confused and more than a little alarmed. The tape was large, a piece of duct tape I thought.
"Close your mouth," she said, in even a softer voice. Perfectly friendly. When I did so, she applied the tape, pressing it firmly on my face. "Yes," she said, turning away again.
When she turned back, she had a whip. When I saw it, I heard a whimper come out of my mouth, and wondered what I was trying to say. "Now it's going to be quite painful," said Donna, "but you'll do OK. You're my favorite girl."
I was totally helpless, but found myself still trying to yell, to tell her... "Now, calm down," she said, drawing closer and lightly touching my shoulder. "It's all right. Just relax and let it happen."
Why, I don't know. But I gave up. Realizing there was absolutely no escape, I ceased the one way I had of telling her I needed to get out of this. And I tried to puzzle it out. Donna was a sadist. Had that ever come up? Of course, it wouldn't. This must be like sex to her. This was what she needed.
Looking satisfied, she stepped back. I was so nervous as I watched her. She looked over my body, looking content, and positioned herself to use the whip. "The pain will be excruciating while I'm doing it," she said. "Just let it flow through you. Let it happen."
I heard one more short whimper from myself, and saw her smile in response. This was what Donna wanted. And she wanted it with me.
* * *
It had to stop. She couldn't keep going. I'd watched her smile fade as she got into it. Now her face was blank, neutral. She looked like she had a job to do and was doing it. She was so right about the pain. I couldn't help the dancing, swinging from that hook, my involuntary attempts to escape. There was none, the whip found me any way I turned.
Finally, blessedly, she stopped. For a moment, she seemed to study me. I stood there, unable do do anything else. A part of me worried about whether she was done yet. I couldn't take more, not even for Donna. She approached, but not looking at my face. Suddenly, she knelt, her face in front of my sex. Just as suddenly, she reached up and touched it.
I almost orgasmed.
She looked up at me and slowly smiled.
Cyan Stories
Erotic fiction, sex stories, for erotica lovers.