08 - College Kinks - Preparations

I woke up the next day, still enveloped by Jess' arms. She had refused to let me go during the night, and still held on tightly. The sun was already out, and I remembered my duty, so I carefully crept out of the bed with the utmost caution not to wake her, and left her room.

The living room was a mess. It smelled faintly of sex and sweat, rose petals were spread all over the floor and candle stubs were scattered around the room, their wax having dripped down. Jess had taken care, however, to place each one on something non-flammable, mostly small plates and saucers. I sighed. I had my work cut out for me.

The first thing I did was open the windows to let some fresh air in to replace the smell, before gathering up the petals. Next, I collected all the candle stubs and whatever they were placed on and let hot water into the sink. I dutifully cleaned every last plate, before feeling a chill of cool morning air on my skin. That was the sign that I could close the windows again.

I went to change the sheets in my room, but found that I had to clean up a little first. The boxes with toys were still open, the gag, clamps, blindfold and the remote-controlled vibrator still strewn about the floor where Jess had left them when she carried me to her room. I gathered all of them up, stored the blindfold and clamps, and went to the bathroom to clean the vibrator and gag.

The sun had already been out for several hours, so I made Jess coffee while changing my sheets, which I threw in the wash along with Jess' thong. When I entered her room and knelt by her bed, presenting the coffee mug and lowering my gaze, I heard her stir momentarily.

"Good morning, mistress," I said abjectly. She slowly hoisted herself to the edge of the bed, stretching, and looking down at me for a second. I lifted my head to see what was wrong, and could see her face beaming with pride while tears formed in her eyes.

She took the mug, set it down on the nightstand, before sitting down next to me and pulling me into an embrace.

I was not sure what the protocol was, so I reciprocated carefully, and when she let go after a while, looking me straight in the eyes, she looked happier and more satisfied than I had ever seen her.

"Last night was incredible," she said, with an almost shy voice. "I enjoyed that very much. What about you?" she asked carefully.

"It sure was," I answered. "It was the most intense experience I have ever had. I had always dreamed about being tied up and used like that. Thank you for that. And I am glad you enjoyed it as well."

"Enjoyed it? Fuck, that was the hottest thing I have ever witnessed. In fact, I am still turned on by the memory."

"I could help with that, mistress," was my honest answer, as I felt an expectant smile creep across my face.

Jess' features softened momentarily, before she cleared her throat and her voice was as cold as ice again. "Later, not until we have both had a shower. And not until you have cleaned up the apartment. Follow me, slave."

With those words she stood up, walked past her kneeling slave on the floor and entered the living room where I could hear her gasp in shock. As instructed, I crawled up next to her and waited for the realization to settle in.

"When did you do this?" she asked in surprise, observing the tidy room.

"I have been awake for a little over an hour, mistress. I thought you would be pleased with me."

"I am. Well done, slave," she said, while petting my head affectionately. "Now, let's hop in the shower."

We both took our time in the shower. She went first, while I was instructed to kneel and wait outside the shower cabin, forced to watch my beautiful girlfriend soap up and rinse every part of her body through the foggy glass, without being allowed to touch myself, or her for that matter. It was torture. She was deliberate in her movements, more than once spreading her legs far, and taking her time massaging the foam into her breasts, squeezing them teasingly.

When it was my turn, I was told to present, in the shower, while she cleaned every inch of skin on my body. Again, she was deliberate in her actions, and when she brushed over my nipples for the third time in a row, I let out a soft moan. She leaned in close, rubbed her naked body on mine while my hands were still clasped behind my head and whispered, "If you are as good of a slave for the rest of the day as you have been for the first hour, then I'll let you wish for something this evening."

I trembled, as I answered with a shaky voice, "Thank you, mistress, I will not disappoint."

She made me drop to my knees in the shower and make her cum right then and there, with the hot water streaming down from above, coating our bodies in a glistening film.

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After breakfast she gave me another task.

"Slave, I want you to get a pen and paper. I want you to write down everything you enjoyed about last night, and why you enjoyed it. Then I want you to write down everything you did not like and why."

I was thrilled; this was similar to writing down my fantasies. But this time I would not be writing about vague dreams or reveries, but instead about something that had actually happened.

I immediately got to work, and when I was finished, not even an hour later, I went to present my work.

"Nadu. Put the paper in front of you and read it to me."

I complied, kneeling down, spreading my legs far to reveal my pussy that had gotten wet thinking about every detail from last night, and resting my hands on my thighs.

"I really liked... well, everything, mistress. It was like a dream. I appreciate the effort you put into the evening. It was an incredible surprise. I loved your outfit, and would like you to wear it sometimes when you dominate me. If it pleases you, of course, mistress."

I could see her in the corner of my eye taking a mental note, before I continued.

"I loved the feeling of helplessness when you tied me to the bed. Not being able to move, being restricted and completely at another's mercy was the best feeling in the world. It made me realize how much I trust you, and let me sink into submission deeper than ever before."

I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking back to that feeling, before forcing myself back to reality.

"I loved the pain. I know that I called yellow when you spanked me, mistress. I was not entirely ready then. And you have held back ever since, which I appreciate. But yesterday I knew that you were not going to harm me. The crop did hurt, especially when you hit me on my sensitive pussy, but the pain elevated the pleasure in a way I cannot quite describe. The boundaries blur, both of them, pain and pleasure, morphing, becoming the same sensation. I am sorry, it is hard to describe, mistress."

I could see her nodding, listening intently.

"I enjoyed the nipple clamps. At first, I was scared of them, but the sharp pain at the beginning dulls over time, leaving a soft and constant ache, a reminder of my position. And every time I moved, the clamps would move too, causing a new wave of pain, which in turn made me even more horny."

I felt my nipples stiffen as I talked.

"Being gagged, unable to speak or even scream in pain, frustration or pleasure, is extremely hot. It elevated my submission. The same is true for being gagged by your panties, mistress. I love tasting you, and the humiliation of tasting your underwear is exhilarating."

She smiled, no doubt thinking back to the moment I was describing.

"The fact that you called Mike while I was helplessly tied up was extremely mean. You forced me to remain silent while I barreled towards the most intense orgasm of my life. It was mean... But also incredibly hot. The fear, the threat of humiliation was akin to what I felt under the street light. And I think it was very creative."

Jess listened closely to every word, barely breathing out of fear of missing something. I paused briefly, flipping over my sheet, before continuing. Reciting and reliving the events had made me extremely aroused to the point where I was dripping on the floor.

"When you kissed me around my clit, I was going insane. You kept me at the edge for minutes, refusing stimulation. I wanted to come so bad, but at the same time I wanted you to keep going. For hours, days, forever. I felt so submissive at that point, so helpless.

"You know my fantasies better than anyone. You know that one of them is for people to blackmail me into doing things for them, because they have compromising photos of me. When you took photos of me yesterday, it was like another layer of giving up control. I know you will never use them or anything, but the fact that you have them at all is a constant reminder of my submission."

I had concluded. Jess looked at me, deep in thought.

"Was there anything you did not like?" she asked.

"Yes, mistress. I would have loved to grant you an orgasm too." It was the truth. I felt like I owed her one after that.

"But I did come," she said, which surprised me.

"What? When?" I asked, in disbelief.

"You really did not notice?" She laughed at that.

"During your first orgasm, after I teased you, I was so incredibly horny. Seeing you naked and helpless at my mercy almost pushed me over the edge by itself. And when I put the vibrator to your clit, I pushed my own against it from the other side, so it was stimulating both of us at the same time. I came at the same time as you, although I think your orgasm lasted longer and was more intense, since I had denied you for days. I am still surprised you didn't hear me come; I moaned like a slut." She laughed again.

"Forgive me, mistress, I did not notice," I said, lowering my head in shame.

"It's okay. Next time, I promise you, you can use your talented tongue again. That is, if you don't mouth off again."

"Thank you, mistress," I said, grinning on the inside.

"Anything else you want to share?" she asked.

"Not necessarily, but I would like to ask something of you. Can I... Can I see the photos you took? I would like to know what I looked like." I lowered my head, feeling my cheeks flush.

I lifted my eyes, ever so slightly, and was not surprised to see her smiling. After a moment of looking at me, she took out her phone, swiped for a second, and turned it to me without saying a word.

I would not have recognized myself if I did not know better. A woman, clawing at the ropes that held her down on the bed, her muscles flexing, lay spread-eagle on her back. Each limb was connected with black rope to a bed post. The legs were spread pornographically far apart, giving a view of the throbbing and puffy pussy that leaked fluids which had already formed a massive wet spot on the bed. A little string was hanging out of her vagina, and even though the image could not show it, I knew the vibrator inside was still buzzing. Her nipples stood erect, painfully pinched by steel clamps connected with a chain. Her mouth was filled with a large, red rubber ball gag, and a tiny part of an all too familiar thong was hanging out of the corner of her mouth. Drool mixed with tears from behind the blindfold and streamed down both of her cheeks. It was the hottest thing I had ever seen in my life.

"If you want to, I can delete these," Jess said, slightly embarrassed. "I just wanted to capture the moment."

I chuckled. "Mistress, did you not hear me just now?" I asked. "I would love for you to hold on to these photos." I bowed down until my forehead touched the floor in submission, my nipples brushing slightly against it too, and waited for her to put her phone away.

"Sit up, slave, and look at me," she commanded, in her familiar, demanding voice. "It may not be evening yet, but you have been extraordinarily good today, so I think we can make an exception. I believe I promised you a wish earlier. What is your wish?"

I swallowed. I was not prepared for this. I had not thought about it yet. I wanted to cum, yes. I had been horny for the entire day already, but it felt improper, almost selfish to ask for something that simple and predictable. Similarly, it felt wrong to ask to make her cum. After all, she could use me at any time, however she wanted. No, I had a different wish.

"I... I wish..." I started, my voice shaky. "I wish for you to tie me up more often. I loved the bondage."

She raised an eyebrow. She had not expected that wish, but she did not seem too surprised either.

"That..." she started, looking at me with pride, and a hint of playful meanness. "... is something I'll gladly do."

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A few days after Jess had tied me to the bed, we met Sam.

Not the Sam from the party, in her maid's outfit and her collar. The other Sam. The one who studied computer science and was only one student among thousands.

She had texted Jess, asking if we wanted to get coffee, and so the three of us ended up at a small café at the edge of campus, sitting at a table by the window. Sam was wearing jeans, sneakers and a faded T-shirt with some kind of programming joke on it that I did not understand. Her hair was tied into a ponytail, and her glasses kept sliding down her nose. If I had passed her on the street, I would never have recognized her.

"I know," she laughed, when she saw my face. "Everyone does that. I'm a lot less interesting in daylight."

"That's not true," I said, and meant it. I looked down, and added, "It has been a while since we saw each other. The last time, ..."

"The last time we saw each other, I was naked and dangling from ropes, screaming in pleasure, with clamps on my nipples, placed there by you, and a vibrator inside me," she completed my sentence in a hushed tone, significantly more explicit than I had intended. She burst out laughing at my baffled face, as I looked around to see if anyone had heard what Sam had just said.

"You should see your face," she said with a laugh. "You look just like when we first met, and I wanted to take your order, but you were too baffled by me."

It turned out that Sam was funny. Really funny, in a dry, quick way that caught me off guard every few minutes. She told us about her coding projects, about her terrible roommate who kept stealing her yogurt, and about the time she accidentally crashed the entire computer science department's server during her first semester. And when Jess went to the counter to get us a second round, Sam leaned over the table, and her voice became quieter.

"Mike told me," she said. "About the end of summer. That it's going to be you this year."

I felt my cheeks go hot, but I nodded.

"I just wanted to say," she continued, "if you ever want to talk about it, before or after, you can text me. Anytime. I know Jess is amazing, and I know she'll take care of you. But sometimes it helps to talk to someone who's been on the same side of it, you know?"

"Thank you," I said. And then, because it had been bothering me since the party, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything."

"When you were hanging there, in the basement, with everyone looking at you..." I hesitated. "What were you thinking about?"

Sam smiled, a slow, private smile, and looked out of the window for a moment.

"Honestly? Nothing," she said. "That's the best part. Everything else just goes quiet. All the stuff I'm always worried about, deadlines and exams and whether people like me. It all just stops. For an hour, my only job is to be there. To be looked at. To feel things. It's the most peaceful I ever am. Mike calls it subspace. It is when everything else loses all meaning, and even though you are tied up and helpless, you feel freer than you've ever felt."

I sat back in my chair, and for a moment, neither of us said anything. It was exactly how I had felt under the street light, and later, I had experienced it when Jess had tied me to my bed to torment me. It was liberating. I just had not had the words for it.

"Can I ask you something else? Something that has nothing to do with that."

"Sure, ask away."

It was a question that was technically none of my business, but I had been curious ever since the party, ever since Mike had said that Sam serving the guests was her punishment.

"What did you do to deserve a night of bar duty as punishment?" I asked, my heart racing. To my surprise, Sam chuckled and blushed slightly.

"Oh, did I call it a punishment that night? Who says that it could not have been a reward as well?" She winked at me, and both of us had to suppress our laughter.

When Jess came back with the coffees, Sam and I were both smiling at each other like idiots, and Jess stopped next to the table, looking from one of us to the other.

"What did I miss?" she asked. There was a strange little edge to her voice.

"Nothing," Sam said innocently. "Just girl talk."

Jess sat down. For the rest of our coffee, she was quieter than usual, and she kept her hand on my knee under the table the entire time, as if she was making a point.

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"You were jealous," I said, when we got back to the apartment while I was undressing.

"I was not," Jess said.

I knelt in front of her and looked up at her with my best innocent expression. "Mistress, I believe the contract says I am not allowed to lie to you. I didn't know that the rule only went one way."

She glared at me. Then her face cracked, and she sighed, and sat down on the floor in front of me.

"Okay. Fine. Maybe a tiny bit," she admitted. "You two just looked so... comfortable. Like you understood each other in a way I can't. Because I don't know what it's like to be on your side of it."

I took her hands.

"Jess," I said. "Do you remember the night of the party? When you were chatting up Sam at the bar, and I was standing with Alex and the others, holding your drink? And later, when we were in the basement, and you practically devoured her body with your eyes?"

She winced. "Yes."

"I was so jealous I thought I was going to explode," I said. "You looked so entranced by her, by her submission. So now we're even." I squeezed her hands. "Sam understands what it's like to be on my side. That's true. But she doesn't understand what it's like to be on my side with you. Nobody does. Only me."

Jess looked at me for a long moment. Then she pulled me into her lap and kissed me, hard, and when she pulled back, her eyes were shining.

"Nobody," she repeated. "Only you."

**********************************************************************************

The rest of summer break was uneventful. At least when it came to mundane events. Our sex life was anything but.

We spent our days as we had before. Living as slave and mistress. As promised, Jess incorporated bondage more into our daily life. I was not just naked, but instead had to wear leather wrist and ankle cuffs whenever I was at home. Jess delighted in making my tasks harder for me, mostly by clipping my hands together in front of me. When she was more merciful, she allowed me a little slack with a short chain.

One day, I was particularly bad. I had forgotten to prepare her coffee in the morning. She reprimanded me, but did not punish me immediately. In the shower, cursing myself for having forgotten such a simple task, I did not concentrate on the task at hand and did not shave properly.

When I got out of the shower to present, she was furious. She clipped my wrists directly together behind my back, connected my ankle cuffs with a short 6-inch chain, so I had to shuffle while walking, before pushing a feather duster into my tied hands and ordering me to dust off the entire living room.

What had usually taken me ten to fifteen minutes took me three hours. I could barely reach most of the places I had to dust off, constantly had to take care not to knock something over, and somehow Jess always found a corner where I had not been thorough enough. She delighted in seeing me helpless, and when I complained that it was impossible for me to complete the task with my hands behind my back, she simply gagged me and said that my restraints would only come off once I had fulfilled my chores.

For hours I shuffled around the living room under her watchful and hungry gaze, dropping the feather duster every now and then, which meant I had to humiliatingly shuffle around on the floor to pick it up. This was even harder with my ankles tied, but after the third time I figured out a way that worked well enough. Once I had finally met her expectations, she complained that it took too long. She clamped my nipples, sharply pulled on the chain to give me, as she called it, motivation to do better, and ordered me to do her room next. Tears of frustration welled in my eyes, and once I had finished her room, my chest and stomach were covered in drool from the gag, and she proceeded to deny me for the next three days.

Needless to say, I never forgot to make her coffee again, and I always double-checked my shave after the shower.

Whenever she denied me for more than two days back-to-back, she would send me to sleep while cuffing my wrists and ankles to my bed.

"Just so you don't 'accidentally' orgasm again," was what she said.

It was uncomfortable at first, but I grew to love it. Since I could not prepare coffee for her, or kneel by her bed the next morning when she made me sleep in bondage, she would usually be the one to wake me on these days. She would quietly get into my room, careful not to make a noise, and then wake me by straddling my face, until I brought her to as many orgasms as she desired. Afterwards, I had to wait until she had showered and made breakfast, before I was released, sometimes even longer.

She even pushed me to explore my exhibitionist side a little more. We would go shopping for groceries with me as lightly dressed as possible, usually without underwear. Once, she had me keep her worn panties in my mouth the entire shopping trip, calling back to the first day after we signed our contract.

All in all, I could not have been happier. I delighted in my humiliation and bondage as much as on my first day, but Mike's next party, for which I was supposed to be the main attraction, came closer and closer; in fact, it was only a week away.

It was a strange feeling. On the one hand, I doubted it could be more humiliating and intense than my time when Jess tied me to the bed, but at the same time, that was only Jess. Even though she had me stand under the street light, made me debase myself in front of her time and time again, and made me go outside in increasingly skimpy outfits, it was still something different from being chained completely naked in front of 10 people who I considered friends at this point, and having Jess have her way with me to put on a show.

"Do you know what you want me to do with you next week?" she broached the topic carefully one morning during breakfast.

"I don't know, mistress," I said. I was kneeling next to her chair and waited patiently for her to feed me another piece of toast.

"I have thought about it a lot, but I am not sure how I will feel then, and cannot really say how far I will want to go," I explained.

Jess paused for a moment, deep in thought.

"Think about everything we have done so far," she said. "Do you think you can order everything by intensity?"

"Of course, mistress," was my answer.

"No, not today. Today, I am not your mistress."

Jess got up, walked over to my room, and unlocked the chest with my clothes.

"I want you to get dressed. Properly. Today we talk as girlfriends. We are going to make a plan!"

**********************************************************************************

My clothes felt weird on my skin. Unnatural even. I had been naked so much, that I almost forgot what it felt like to wear panties or a bra. I felt the fabric brush against my skin and felt like it did not belong there. It felt restrictive, uncomfortable, like it was entirely wrong.

We spent breakfast time like we always had before the fateful party. As equals, sitting next to each other. Afterwards Jess guided me to the couch and looked me deep in the eyes.

"Nessa, I love you. And I love our dynamic. More than you can probably imagine. But this is the biggest step we have taken so far, the biggest step YOU have taken so far. I know that you have doubts and are afraid, and I want to be sure that there are no misunderstandings. And that we can work something out together, as equals. And to give the circle a show which they will remember." Her lips curled into a coy smile at the last sentence. I could not help but reciprocate.

"Okay, Jess, what do you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking..." She paused. "Maybe we can naturally progress the show. The fact that people will be watching will make everything more intense than when it is just you and me. Especially if you want them to touch you. But as you said, you can't estimate how you will feel then. That is why you have safe words, after all. But I would still like to plan this evening with you together. We can progress through the intensity scale, and you can give me a sign when you feel like you are close to what you feel comfortable with, okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," I answered. Clearly Jess had spent just as much time thinking about this as me.

"So let's think. What is the first, most basic thing we do, and then work our way up from there."

"Hmm, I mean I am definitely getting tied to the cross," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"No, think sooner than that. Put yourself into the scene. We enter the room, are you dressed? Are you naked? Are you walking or crawling? And where do we go from there?"

We spent 6 hours working out the details. 6 hours of planning, debating, arguing over how I was to be bound, over which toys to use on me when, about what to do, and how to signal that I was nearing my limit. About whether I wanted to cum in front of everyone, or afterwards in private.

I thought back to what Jason had told me, that calling red is not weakness. I knew I always had a way out. But still, I wanted to push myself. I wanted to make it as exciting as possible, both for me, and for everyone else.

We agreed to increase the intensity during my show, just as Jess had suggested. She would use toys on me, use impact play, and, if both she and I felt comfortable, she would allow some of the others to come and play with my bound body, although we were both not sure yet who and how. Some things, we agreed, would have to wait until the time has come.

We agreed on a signal for her to notice my limits. If I clenched my fist 3 times in quick succession, that would mean that I did not want to progress further, but instead continue at the current level until the end. It was not a safe word per se, but she would know the meaning and could adjust accordingly without letting the others in on it. In addition, I still had my safe words for when I needed them.

**********************************************************************************

The night before the party, Jess ordered me to her room.

When I came in, she had cleared the floor in the middle of the room and laid out all of the toys we agreed to use tomorrow on the bed.

"Rehearsal," she said, when she saw my confused face. "Emily's idea. She said we should practice everything once, here, where it's just us two. So that tomorrow, nothing is new except the people."

The love for my girlfriend and mistress swept over me like a wave and I felt warm, safe and cared for. She really did think of everything and wanted to fulfill my fantasies for me without pressuring me into something and while keeping everything as comfortable as possible.

She took her time. She bound my wrists the way Emily had shown her, with two fingers of space between the rope and my skin, checking it twice. She had me stand with my arms raised against the wall, the closest thing we had to a cross, and walked slowly around me, the way I imagined she would tomorrow. Every few minutes, she stopped and asked for my color, and every time, I said green, and every time, she kissed me on the shoulder before continuing.

She practiced the blindfold. She practiced taking it off, slowly, and watching my face as my eyes adjusted to the light. She practiced with the clamps. She asked me how long it took until my nipples went numb. She practiced every toy and implement we planned to use tomorrow, and she practiced the countdown from ten, her voice low and steady in my ear, until I was trembling against the wall, desperate, dripping and dizzy and so close I could barely breathe.

And then, at "two," she stopped.

"Mistress," I whimpered. "Please."

"Tomorrow," she whispered, and untied my wrists, rubbing the faint red marks the rope had left on my skin. "I told you. I like to keep you desperate. And tomorrow, I want you more desperate than you've ever been in your life."

I wanted to protest. I wanted to beg. But she pulled me into bed, wrapped her arms around me, and held me so close that I could feel her heartbeat against my back, and the protest died in my throat.

"Are you nervous?" she asked into the darkness.

"Terrified," I said. "And you?"

"Terrified," she agreed.

I laughed quietly, and laced my fingers through hers.

"Good," I said. "Then at least we're terrified together."