Page 63 of Monarch
It’s more exciting this way.
And it’s more challenging.
And that is something I’ve never been afraid of. As much as I know, deep down, that I prefer a soft and gentle life, I know that it’s just not my reality.
I use the toilet while I’m there and wash my hands, smiling at Lex’s message. I take a silly number of photos of it, and then I clean it off so nobody else sees it. I don’t want to have to answer any questions about this, about Lex. I just want to keep xem tucked away inside myself. Along with Mari. I know the pair of them would hate that – being together – but on this, they don’t get a choice.
With the mirror clean, I check my reflection, pinch some colour into my cheeks, adjust the front of my wig, and then hold my head up high as I return to the office. When I sit at my desk, I have new energy, new focus, and a new hope in my heart.
I get back to work with a smile on my face.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mari
Here we are again. Roos and me, on the stage at QISS, lights giving our skin a soft glow and only hushed murmurings and clinking glass as background noise. Until Roos puts the vibrator between my legs again.
I didn’t come here expecting to be the one cuffed to the St Andrew’s Cross facing the audience. I fully expected Roos to resume her usual position and for me to pick up where I left off with paddles and maybe a little wax play, which had been so fun a few weeks ago. But all it took was one look at Roos as she waited for me at the bridge near QISS, and I knew tonight would be different. She could hardly keep still. She squeezed me a little tighter than usual when we said hello. And when we got inside and took our coats off, she looked me up and down like I was a piece of meat and she was a carnivore who hadn’t eaten in weeks. I knew what she was going to ask before the words tumbled out of her mouth as we walked up the stairs together.
“Mari, can I top you tonight? Do you feel happy to be submissive?”
Because I hadn’t expected it until seeing her, I hadn’t really thought about it, but when I saw how excited Roos was, and how delicious she looked in skin-tight PVC trousers and a bodice with a corset that cinched her waist just so, I immediately felt a rush of desire for her. For her to take whatever she wanted from me.
“I feel very happy with that,” I answered, and she lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles in an action that felt like a thank you and a please.
We didn’t go up on stage immediately. First, we watched two men play with one woman who was strapped into the sex swing on the stage, both of them edging her until she was crying and half the audience was squirming in their chairs. It did nothing to slow down my arousal.
Then, Mother Maria had her turn with Bo, who wasn’t working. She tied up their body in a position that bound their hands and feet together, and then she used nothing but a feather and her dirty, dirty words to bring them to the most tantalising, slow climax.
Once they had left the stage, I was practically in a running start position, ready to throw myself up there. Roos was no different. She was standing before Mother Maria had even addressed the audience.
And now, I’m suffering in the most wonderful way. Completely naked but for the X-cross’ cuffs and a rope harness that criss-crosses my body, framing my breasts just tightly enough that it highlights how full and heavy they are, and lining the outside of my cunt, the rope getting more abrasive as more and more blood flows to my groin. I had no idea Roos knew what to do with ropes – we never got the chance for her to show me that – and impressed was one of the many things I felt as she had tied me up. Until her mouth was on me. Then I felt nothing but need. For more. For less. For everything. For nothing at all. I thrusted up into her face. I closed my eyes and moaned. The audience melted away. There was nobody else on this planet but me and Roos.
But then she stopped. She walked away, leaving me gasping and panting, a tremor wracking my body from the ache of being left so close to the edge. When I watched her return with a vibrator in hand – a round-headed purple one – I started to smile. And laugh. I laughed manically, knowing full well what kind of trouble I was in now.
I was right. I am in trouble. I’m desperate and inconsolable with need. Sweat drips down the side of my face. My nipples are so tightthey hurt. I’m light-headed in that most perfect way where it makes the whole world feel more clear, more transparent, more navigable. Like all the opaqueness of struggle has evaporated, and anything, anything is possible.
Anything is possible, but only one thing is necessary.
My orgasm. It’s all I want. It’s my sole focus. And it’s completely at Roos’ mercy.
“Thank fuck,” I groan when the vibe is back on me. I catch Roos’ eye, and she winks at me, a mischievous grin changing the shape of her face. Another dimension of her beauty I could fall in love with.
“Does that feel better?” she asks in my ear. Words only for me. I wish they were tangible things I could keep forever.
“Uh-huh.” I nod. “Please don’t stop.”
The tension is building again. Everything inside me pulling tight and taut. Just a few more seconds, and it will break loose. I will break free.
“You don’t want me to stop?” The pressure of the vibe eases ever so slightly. She’s lifted it off me.
“No, please, no,” I beg, and I know it’s loud enough for other people to hear, but I don’t care.
“Like this?” She lifts the vibrator off me completely, raising it high enough for me to see it.
“Roos, fuck, please.” I sound like I’m crying. Maybe I am.
“But this is so much fun,” she says. Then she puts the vibrator back on me, but not my cunt. On one of my nipples. It’s so ferocious, it almost feels like it’s burning my areola, but I’m so desperate for sensation, for friction, that I arch my back and press against my restraints to push into it as much as I can. Just as I’m adjusting to it, Roos moves the vibrator to my other nipple. Another angry moan erupts out of me.
