Temptation at randys, p.13
Temptation at Randy's, page 13
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.
SIXTEEN
Claude
“These muffins are so fucking good.”
I hadn’t even known mint chocolate muffins were a thing, but they apparently were. Arlene had looked at me so funny that first day she’d mentioned one of her flavor combinations, I didn’t dare to question them again. At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter.
My stomach was happy, so I was happy to let Arlene run around the kitchen talking about things that were supposedly obvious but really were anything but.
“The mint tea makes all the difference.”
“Wait, what?”
I frowned. I thought it would just be chocolate and mint extract and food coloring. Not the healthiest, but I wasn’t one to complain about that stuff. Since when could muffins have tea in them?
Oops.
Arlene was doing that face again, but I bet if I texted Ben, he’d be shocked, too. No sane person expected tea in their muffins. I would not be convinced otherwise.
“I do an extra strong mint tea, with about 30 bags, reduce it, and I add it to the batter of the muffins,” Arlene explained. At least she wasn’t teasing about it. She tried to every now and then, and it just didn’t work. We had a system here. I teased, and she blushed. The system worked. “I actually discovered it because I’d run out of mint extract one day, but there was plenty of mint tea in one of the cabinets for some reason? I think Dylan was trying to do some kind of cleansing diet or something. He went through a phase. Anyway, I experimented, and it turns out that they taste much better this way.”
I could not compare, but these muffins tasted amazing, so I accepted it as truth and kept enjoying the treat.
Arlene’s roommate came back down from his room as I was wiping the breadcrumbs into one of the napkins she’d procured earlier. It reminded me I needed napkins for my place. Maybe I could get some reusable ones. I’d have to look into it.
“Hey, Dylan.” I nodded in greeting. “I’m not sharing.”
“Yes, you are.” Arlene shook her head.
I winked.
I wasn’t sure I’d won him over completely after just hanging out with him a couple of times on his way out of the place they shared. He smiled at me and stopped to give me what I guessed he thought of as a playful shove, though. It was progress.
Rome wasn’t built in one day, and all that.
“Whatever.”
Dylan rolled his eyes, but he sat down to eat one of the muffins. I guessed he wasn’t in a hurry to leave this time.
He moaned around the first bite he took, too. It reminded me of Ben. Gosh, both of them could be so over the top—Dylan when he was in the right mood; Ben, all of the fucking time.
“Did you see the new Zelda game that’s coming out tomorrow?” Dylan asked.
For a second, I thought he was asking Arlene, which piqued my interest—we’d talked hobbies, and she’d said nothing about gaming.
Oh, but I had. I guessed Arlene had told him.
“Yeah, I preordered it ages ago.” I nodded. I’d been watching every early review I could find, too. The ones that weren’t made by incels, at least. So many incels in gaming spaces. “Are you getting it, too?”
“Duh. I’ve been playing the last one non-stop this week to prepare.”
So that launched us into a talk I wasn’t really expecting to have with the most ambivalent person toward me I’d ever encountered.
I wasn’t complaining, but it was something I noticed. How could I not?
Arlene seemed way too pleased with herself from the counter. She was pretending to clean up the area of the kitchen where she’d dropped a bunch of flour—and unfairly blamed me for it—but I saw through her. She’d orchestrated this.
I mean, I couldn’t be upset by it. We didn’t talk much about him, but it was getting annoying—knowing that there was someone close to Arlene who had decided I was not good enough, or whatever it was. I didn’t think delving into figuring out why it was exactly that they’d decided to make me the enemy would help.
It was much better for everyone to just go with the flow and accept this Zelda-shaped olive branch—Master Sword?
I never had anyone to talk about it, anyway, so it would be cool if I befriended Dylan.
Arlene had mentioned something about a shitty boyfriend, too. I had a few things to say about it, and I couldn’t until we were close enough to not make it weird.
I breathed out when Dylan eventually left, though. I really had nothing against him—not even when he was fully stuck into the “we don’t like Claude” club—but I’d come here on a mission.
Arlene had wanted to meet yesterday and spend the entire weekend together, but I’d had plans. By plans, I meant I spent all afternoon drinking way too many lemonades with Gay while she helped me through… stuff. I’d postponed it long enough, but I’d needed someone who actually knew what it was like to set my head on straight.
She was more than happy to do it. Probably way happier than she should’ve been, too.
It was a good thing that it wasn’t our first time talking, or I wasn’t sure I would’ve been too thrilled for a repeat.
The point was, she’d helped me come up with a plan of action, but that plan of action involved Arlene and I having the place for ourselves.
“Hey, let me go to the bathroom real quick, and I’ll meet you in your room.”
Arlene watched me for a second, her pupils dilated. She tried to hide the way my words affected her, but it was no use. We both knew it, but it didn’t stop her from leaning back against the counter as if she could play the unaffected role easily.
“Romance really is dead these days.”
I snorted. It was a good thing she hadn’t timed that delivery while I was drinking. “You really like to make things harder for yourself.”
I had no plans to make anything harder for her—not today, at least—but she didn’t need to know it. And hearing those words had her gasping and spluttering, which was always fun to accomplish.
“That is so unfair! I’ve done nothing.”
“Sure you haven’t.” I blew her a kiss before I pushed my ass off the stool. “Just meet me in your room, okay? I swear I won’t be mean.”
I really wouldn’t be. Today was more about me—in a convoluted way—than it was about her, but I needed a second to myself before I could set everything in motion. I didn’t think I could be faulted too much for it.
“You always say that,” I heard her grumble.
I still heard her footsteps up the stairs, though, so I didn’t worry too much. Maybe we could talk about her newfound inner brat some other day. Or later today, if I didn’t end up as emotionally exhausted as I feared I would. Preparing for all scenarios was important. Gay had drilled that into me.
Well, I already knew as much, but she had a way with words. It had to be the civil rights lawyer in her. I was low-key scared for her subs, not that Cin looked like someone who would struggle to push back.
Ifound Arlene in the room as I’d asked her. She was wearing the same big sweatshirt she’d had on when she greeted me by the door and was just lounging against the headboard of her bed. That worked with me, so I just sat cross legged beside her. As uncomfortable as it usually made me, it was important that they saw me this one time.
“Is everything okay?” Arlene sat up, a frown settling between her brows. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”
Fuck.
Okay, so I didn’t have my best game face on. I shook my head, trying to shake the nerves out as well.
“No, I’m fine.” My fingers found hers. She’d gotten a manicure a couple of days ago after going in circles about it for way too long. It had reached the point where I was about to send her the money for it. Who knew financial advisors could be so stingy and anxious about their finances? “I’ve just been thinking about things, and since I can’t post them online anymore, I figured you were the next best thing.”
