Conquest
Part 2 of “King and Queens”
I stared at Alex’s sleeping face for over a minute, unsure what to do. Her lanky frame slumped back into the sofa, one snow-dirtied boot up on the coffee table, and the other planted on the floor.
Take a hint.
She hadn’t tried to get in again last night. That was…polite, I guess.
But, the thought that Alex wasn’t responsible for my shitty feelings was far from affirming. All she did was come on to someone she was attracted to. It wasn’t her fault I met that criteria. Arguably, it was mine.
And that thought had me lacing up my boots and getting ready to bolt home to my parents’ house for comfort.
“You’re up?” a groggy voice called from behind me. “Going out?”
I didn’t want to look like I was running away, so I slipped my boots off and passed her on my way to the kitchen, offering to make her coffee. She sat at the table and watched me for a few moments before saying:
“If I hurt you, somehow, can you tell me? I wouldn’t want to do it again.”
I set a mug of coffee down in front of her and slumped back into the other seat.
“You didn’t do anything. I wish lesbians weren’t into me, but it seems like that’s where I’m at.”
I took a long sip from my own mug.
Ugh, say something.
“You’re an asshole,” she said, finally. I choked on my coffee, spluttering awkwardly. She patted my back, and when I looked at her, she had that cocky smile on her face.
“Sorry, I’m an asshole?”
“I told you last night. I’m bisexual,” Alex said.
“You said you’re a lesbian!”
“I very clearly specified bisexual lesbian.”
“What does that mean? You can’t be both those things at once!” I barked defensively.
“No?” She said easily, but her gentle smile she wore dripped away. “You told me that you’re non-binary and a man. How can those both be true?”
“I-!”
…had no response.
What I wanted to say was that both were parts of me, that I couldn’t really understand it, but both were so innate to me that they could not be denied.
Which, I assumed, was exactly the point.
I slumped back in my seat, turning away as I said: “So, you’re homoromantic, huh?”
“You did remember!” Alex’s smile was back in full-force, yet it seemed far less cocky than it had the night before. Maybe her smile was something I’d misinterpreted too. “You know, it’s hard to be a butch bisexual.”
“Because of people like me,” I said, embarrassed.
“Well, it’s not your fault exactly. It’s more the mindset than the people who fall victim to it. If I’m being honest, fucking guys is the gayest thing about me.”
I smiled and bit my lip. I knew exactly what he meant. A nagging voice in the back of my mind told me I couldn’t be a man unless I slept with one at some point.
Another paradox, perhaps.
But, at least it was real.
“Isn’t that the point?” I asked.
Alex quirked an eyebrow at me. “I guess it is.”
She leaned back and crossed her ankle over her knee. The angle of his torso, arched against the back of the chair, elongated his leg, making him look big and dominant. I suddenly had to ask:
“What kind of guys?”
The gentle tilt of his head, the movement strongly indicating fascination, gave him a nearly predatory air. “Hmm,” she said. “Somehow, I get the sense you know what kind.”
“Not specifically.”
“How specific do you want to get?”
The old, low drawer I kept at the end of my bed was almost coming apart. I was worried it wouldn’t hold my weight: as I knelt on it, the obsession that my knees would break right through it flitted in and out of my brain.
But mostly, my mind absorbed Alex, who was making slow circles around me, pretending to inspect me.
“Fuck, how did you stay still for so long?” I asked.
She chuckled. “It’s all for a good cause,” she said. “I’ve raised thousands of dollars for children’s hospitals, so that helps.” She leaned back against the wall at my side. “Of course, being naked made it easier.”
“You’d be naked the whole time?” I said, accidentally tugging at the tie around my wrists.
“Obviously. Tops want to know what they’re paying for. It’s better like that, though.”
“So people knew — ”
“Oh, yeah,” Alex said, frankly. “Most of them were queer, too. Plenty of gay guys bought me.”
“Holy shit, all this time I thought my body was keeping guys from fucking me.”
“Slave auctions change the dynamics, so I don’t want to say I’m some kind of bisexual sex god.” She said while pulling off her shirt, the bastard. “But check this: as a Dom, I only buy girls, and I know gay Subs that fucking hate me for it.”
“That’s sick,” I said, watching her stalk behind me. I wanted to look at her head on, see the piecing I’d blindly fingered the night before. But it was hard to move, while on my knees with my hands tied behind me. I could easily ask her to end the demonstration, to help me up and thank her politely for educating me on slave kink auctions.
But the feeling of being watched without the ability to hide, and wondering what I looked like from her view was sort of fascinating. I tweaked my posture slightly, to fit the poise she had shown me. My toes curled up and the balls of my feet strained heavily against the drawer.
The pose felt at once subservient, but also straining against immobility. Half a bow, half a crouch. My thighs felt strong for bearing my weight so dutifully. And Alex’s gentle hand against me made me squirm with new energy.
Even from behind, arching over my back, getting groped by a fucking woman, I could see why men like me wanted him.
“Sorry,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “Got carried away.” But she was still whispering in my ear, and I could hear the grin in her voice.
“Why don’t you show me the next part?” I said, to stop her from turning away.
“Hmm.” She wandered out in from of me, stroking her chin. In the faint light of my bedroom, the distance between us obscured the shine of the metal pierced through her nipple. But I knew it was there.
Her shoulders moved to pull a cigarette up to her lips, and the movement caused her whole chest to shift into just another model of masculine beauty. It was fantastic, to see something I could be, anatomically speaking.
Finally, she drifted closer, holding the cigarette close to my lips: a gift. For my compliance, I assumed. I hated smoking, but the image of her face staring down seemed to take my decision away from me. I pushed my lips forward and took a shallow drag.
Her hand came to the top of my head, vaguely petting the cropped hair on one plane of my skull. “I guess I could show you a thing or two.”
Suddenly, her fingers dug into the long hair on the rest of my head, gripping it. It wasn’t painful, or even particularly forceful. But the suddenness of her expression, and dark shift over her face, was startling and fantastic.
“You know the color system, right?” she asked, her teeth holding the cigarette in place.
“Colors?”
“Green is good. Yellow is slow down. Red is stop. Got it?”
I cleared my throat and glared up at her. “Yeah, I get the idea.”
“Great,” she said. Her hands instantly went to the bottom of my binder. They paused there, ready to rip it to shreds and leave marks. Instead, she was still, her eyes on mine expectantly. Finally, she said: “I thought you understood.”
Oh. “Green,” I said. She huffed laughter and pulled it up slowly, pressing her abs against my chest as she untangled it from my bound hands. Her crotch pressed against my sternum unthinkingly. Her body, stretching away from me, the lines of it bleeding against the light of my singular lamp felt at once infinite and natural.
“You’re knees must be getting tired,” she said, smile still in place. She got behind me and pulled me to my feet. She helped me down to the floor, and without speaking, she pushed at my shoulders so hard that my knees buckled and I settled back on to them.
“Bend over.”
I obeyed, pressing my naked chest against the top of the drawer: the block. My knees did actually lift, hovering slightly above the ground. The lack of pressure was wonderful. I huffed as the blood flowed back into them, and sighed as the sensation turned slightly numb.
Alex’s hand ran flat across my back, dragging against muscles and soothing the creases between them. “Perfect,” she said. One finger hooked around the waistband of my sweatpants, pausing for a second until I whispered “green” then pulled them down to my knees. My fingers formed knots around each other: she was clearly staring at my ass and cunt. Her toes nudged at the inside of my thigh, and after a moment’s hesitation, I spread my knees wider.
She stepped away and when she came back, the touch returned to my spine. Only this time it was a small bundle of think fabric, arranged in a sort of feather, that trail down my back.
“I’m not gonna hit you,” she said.
I released a breath and a deep hum left Alex’s throat. “Come on, you weren’t worried, were you?”
I opened my mouth, and breath undulated in my throat, before I was able to articulate: “Just a little.”
“Well, you are kind of a brat.” I huffed nervous laughter as she crouched in front of me.
It was true: not walking through a door just because ‘a man’ is holding it was pretty brat-like.
Alex’s fingers slipped around my jaw, suddenly gripping me and jerking my face up to meet his. “But, let’s be adults about this.” Her thump slipped into my mouth as I gasped and ran over the tip of my tongue.
Alex stood up and I looked away when I noticed she was wearing a packer. Once again, Alex’s fingers dug into me holding it still perpendicular to my back.
I slowly surveyed his thick thighs and the muscular cuts beneath his stomach, and he seemed to be giving my the time to decide what I was willing to do.
Finally, he asked “Color?”
“Green,” I said instantly. His hips moved closer and the strange feeling of the piece in my mouth was all I could think about. Her body extended so far past her flesh, as I already knew.
My tongue slipped out to taste as much of it as I could. I cared what I looked like, but didn’t mind not knowing.
I pressed my toes into the floor, trying to push myself further onto her. Alex’s gripping fingers slid under my arms to pull me in time to the thrusting on her hips.
I gulped inadvertently when the packer pressed back onto my throat. My teeth dug into the material, and I just barely stopped myself from pulling away to apologize. Instead, I closed my mouth and tugged at her.
This kind of fullness in my throat was new: I licked farther then my lips could reach until the tip of my tongue reached the soft, salty flesh underneath.
Alex sighed and pulled at me, until a long groan tore through me. My hands jittered around, trying to find an angle to touch myself from.
Alex pulled out of me and the feather end of her whip snapped against my palm: I shouted in surprise, though it barely hurt.
You said you wouldn’t… I started saying before I noticed my hoarse voice allowed no words through.
“My bad. I should have made it clear that the restraints were there to restrain you. No touching.”
Arrogant prick.
Alex walked out behind me and left me to squirm. I couldn’t tell if she was staring and deciding what to do next, or if leaving me to suffer was the activity. I tentatively tried to reach for my clit again, and the end of her whip met me there to simply divert me.
“Wow, you’re pretty impatient. Hmm…” Curiosity dripped from her voice. The feathery end of her whip pressed against my labia, and a whine surged out of me. “I haven’t dealt with someone as sensitive as you in a while.” I whimpered as she withdrew it. “I bet you’re used to coming first.”
Suddenly, the cold handle at the whip pressed against entrance. “Co-?” Alex started, but I was already grinding back, by hips twitching to take in the hard rod.
She pulled it away, and her friendly laughter made her seem innocently unaware of my urgency. Alex leaned down behind me and whispered: “Can you use your words or do I need to work your mouth open again?”
I whimpered before forcing myself to stammer out the word “Green.”
Fuck.
The handle slid back into place and inside me seamlessly. He made gentle circles around my g-spot.
My voice came out in what sounded like sobs, so I bit my tongue. Alex’s left hand forced my mouth open. “What did I say?” I cried out, too loudly in my estimation, and she kissed the back of my neck. I swallowed and tried to hold on to that feeling: I hadn’t realized how much I needed to be kissed. A sound, almost remorseful, came from behind me.
Without warning, I was being gently turned over, my hand being readjusted over my head, and the restraint fixed to a handle of the drawer. Alex knelt between my thighs. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll take care of you.”
He bent over me to kiss me, and my teeth gently tugged at his lips as he began pulling away. The packer, slick from being in my mouth, nudged at my cunt before enter me. It was thicker than the handle of the whip.
My breath raced as my blood coursed fast through my veins. Pulling at the restraint, I desperately tried to wrap my arms around her. She got up on her hands, sitting under me, holding my thighs still so she could fuck me.
Alex was right. How the fuck was she as right as she was?
I was already shaking, trying to pull my knees farther apart.
The thought intruded that I would have to do something for her after. My heart seized up. A long, rasping breath cut off in my throat. “Relax,” she said, though she didn’t seem to be commanding me in the way she was earlier. Her eyes closed and her head hung down onto my chest. I didn’t know what exactly to do for someone like Alex. But maybe, his knowledge was enough.
I reached back, and noticed Alex had merely hooked my restraints under the handle, rather than fastening it there.
In a swift motioned, I freed my hands and dragged the restraints behind his back. He was pleasantly surprised, kissing me as he rocked into me again.
Alex didn’t stop me as I grasped beneath him. I laughed when I touched his clit and noticed the packer had a well-placed nib. “Don’t tell anyone about that,” he chuckled between gasps.
“I wo-” My voice cut off and I shouted as he pushed down the packer and tribbed me.
I grabbed as much of him as I could as my vision went dull and I lost all focus.
Alex made the second pot of coffee, and I was grateful that she did so while carrying a one-sided conversation all the while. At least she was interesting. It was easy to smile, laugh, and ask questions.
She was just a bit perfect: kind, smart, ridiculously attractive. I got fucked by her and now she was making me coffee and keeping me company.
But sadness doesn’t particularly care for practicality does it?
“Okay, what did I do this time?” she asked playfully, after a short silence I failed to fill with dialogue.
“What? Nothing,” I rushed to say.
“Well, what’s wrong?”
“Why does something have to be wrong?”
She smirked and crossed her ankle back over her knee. Fair point.
“It’s just,” I continued, “I know you’re bi, but-”
“There it is,” Alex said to himself.
“Just, wait. I know your bi. But that doesn’t mean sex with you doesn’t feel like sex with someone who thinks I’m a woman. So, there.”
His calm expression and body language made me confident he wasn’t mad. Thank god. In this moment, that result would have been almost as bad as not getting that off my chest.
“I can understand that. Can I ask, why you went with it?”
Sensing no accusation in her voice, I said “I don’t know. I guess I needed it right then. And I didn’t get it last night,” I forced a laugh out, causing her to smile. But she wasn’t amused: moreso sympathetic.
“And last night was when you were supposed to get it.” She concluded for me.
“Well, am I wrong? That’s where the sex goes. After the bumpy meet-cute, after we resolve the sexual tension.”
“So you did it because the sequence of events demanded it?”
I shrugged and stared down at my hands. Alex huffed: it sounded wonderfully relaxing. “Well,” he said, nearly whispering. “At least you got it in. Before the end.”
I smiled at her, truthfully grateful that she understood. “Yeah, me too.”
