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Read Chelsea's Submissive Side -- lesbian bdsm erotica I wro..

Read Chelsea's Submissive Side -- lesbian bdsm erotica I wrote -- in full!


You arched your back and sighed, your eyes fluttering closed. Your right hand was between your legs, caressing your own inner thighs and wandering over to your pussy. Your fingers between your labia traced upward and circled your clit and pressed on it gently. You had been looking forward to this all day and you were slick in anticipation. You began to rub more earnestly, your fantasies beginning to coalesce into nearly tangible shapes in your mind’s eye, when you suddenly were interrupted by the buzz of your phone. You sighed again, this time in an annoyed way, but tried to refocus your concentration. The phone buzzed again. You groaned this time and picked it up. Two new messages from Chelsea. As you unlocked to read them, a third and a fourth came in.

>Hey, you were right.

>I feel really stupid.

>I should have listened to you!!

>Ugh.

You already knew what this was about. Chelsea had asked for advice about her on-again off-again girlfriend a few times over the past month. You had told her that it did not seem like the couple were on the same page for almost anything. Chelsea loved sharing everything that happened to her that day, while her girlfriend was reserved and quieter. Chelsea wanted to go out together and be affectionate in public, while her girlfriend wanted to stay home. The differences were starting to seem to outweigh the similarities, and Chelsea spent a lot of time telling you she wished things were different. You had asked her a few times why she wanted to keep the relationship going, but she never really had an answer.

“What happened?” you texted back.

“We talked about it, and she said she thinks we’re just looking for different things, so we should break up” Chelsea wrote back almost instantaneously.

“Well, I think it’s probably for the best,” you replied. “But you shouldn’t feel stupid.”

“I should have talked to her about this weeks ago like you suggested,” Chelsea replied.

You had met Chelsea about a year ago at a workshop at the arts collective downtown. You both showed up expecting to learn more about digital painting, but when the workshop turned out to be far below your level, you bonded over mutual “Seriously??” looks across the classroom. You joked after the workshop and clicked instantly. She was almost a decade older than you but she had an infectious energy. You went on a date a week later, but she was looking for a monogamous relationship, so after a bit of kissing you decided it would be best to just remain flirtatious friends. Since meeting her you had realized she loved to tell you when you’re right, and often talked about how she was wrong.

“Can I help?” you replied. “Are you busy right now? It’d be cool to get out of the house,” she answered. You had been busy, but that moment had passed. You invited her over.


***

You opened the door to find her looking curiously upbeat for someone who just got dumped, more or less. She was wearing a white sleeveless sundress with pretty sandals, her auburn hair curled so that it fell to her shoulders and bounced. She had a black wide-brimmed sun hat and heart-shaped sunglasses that you had seen her wear before but that looked extra Aesthetic with this ensemble. You smiled at her and motioned for her to come in. She smiled back and removed her sunglasses. Her mascara was still in place, and the look in her eyes wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Hey, you look great!” you told her.

“So do you!” she beamed back at you while she removed her hat. You hadn’t intended on seeing anyone today, so your long dark hair was up in a messy bun and you were wearing your glasses. You had on a short pair of bike shorts that clung to your large thighs and rose to your waist, and a cropped halter top. It wasn’t hot in your apartment, though, despite the heatwave that May, so you also wore a long kimono-style cardigan. It rested open exposing a strip of skin on your abdomen and flashing cleavage. When Chelsea beamed it occurred to you that maybe you should have changed into something less casual, but you were getting the impression Chelsea had no problem with your outfit at all.

She sat down on the floor by the couch, her favourite spot whenever she came over. You sat on the couch next to her.

“Are you okay?” you asked self-consciously, a little taken aback at how it seemed like any other day.

“Honestly, yeah,” she responded in that floaty, girly tone she often takes. “You were right, we should have talked a long time ago, and we just really aren’t that well-suited.”

“Okay good, I’m glad,” you nodded, and then realized she was looking at you expectantly. “What is it?”

“I think you’ve helped me figure something else out, too,” she said tentatively, still smiling and nervously fiddling with the rings on her fingers.

“What??” you chuckled at this strange game she was playing.

“Well remember how you told me I should figure out what I want from sex so that I can ask for it?” You did remember. That was your advice to anyone -- of any gender or orientation. It’s part of communication in any sexual relationship. It’s just good advice, you thought to yourself.

“Yes. Did you figure out what you want?”

“I think so!” Her eyes were dancing. “My girlfriend -- er, I guess my ex-girlfriend, was really sweet, as I’ve told you. She was respectful and that’s really important. But she wasn’t really exciting, either.”

“Exciting how?” you asked, leaning back on the couch and crossing your legs, interested in where this was going. You often had conversations about sex with Chelsea, and they often edged into flirting. She was bubbly and open and loved attention, so she was easy to flirt with. But you hadn’t heard her be quite so direct before.

“Well, in trying to figure out what I liked, I was reading some… stories, I guess, online, and--”

“Erotica?” you suggested in an overly-helpful, teasing tone.

“Yeah, I guess,” she looked down, almost bashful as you smiled. “Anyway I found all this really great stuff, and I showed it to her, and she wasn’t interested in it at all. She wasn’t mean about it, but I’ve been pretty bummed since then. I gotta admit, when she ended it today, part of me was relieved.” You nodded. “I still feel stupid for not ending it sooner--”

“Don’t do that,” you interrupted.

“What?”

“While you’re here, while you’re with me, you’re not allowed to put yourself down,” you said firmly, and smiled kindly.

She smiled back at you and looked away again. “This is what I’m talking about,” she said with a nervous giggle.

“What?” you asked, gently mocking her tone when she had asked the same. You knew. But you really wanted to hear her explain.

“It was all about submissive girls being tied up and told what to do, okay??” she yelled, her voice going up high.

You did an exaggerated nod. “I know,” you said.

“How do you know that??” It was no secret that you liked kinky sex of all kinds. You had lots of fetish-appropriate outfits, even more toys and equipment, and liked to talk about sex-positive BDSM whenever appropriate. Chelsea had always been vanilla but interested, and her fondness for having you gently correct her behaviour -- that is, encourage her to be nicer to herself -- let you know she probably harboured a curiosity, at least. You loved this aspect of your friendship and how it reversed the roles, where the younger one seemed to be in charge.

“Chelsea, why did you come here today?” you leaned toward her and asked her with a fake-quizzical look on your face in a direct tone you knew always made her blush.

She pulled her knees up to her and hugged them and buried her face into them, her hair falling forward. She peeked up. “I really want to learn more about it,” she said quietly, but enthusiastically.

You sighed, “Well, then you should do some research.” Her face dropped as you began to smile wickedly. “That’s the best way to learn about something.”

She furrowed her brow. “But I have been doing research -- I’ve found those stories!” she whined.

“Okay, tell me about them,” you suggested.

She blushed a bit and took a few seconds to start. “My favourite one so far is about three women, two who are dominant and one who is submissive.” She looked at you while she spoke and you could tell she was trying hard to speak eloquently on the topic.

“The dominant women have the submissive on her knees in front of them, it starts out right in the thick of it. They get her to stand up and undress, then turn slowly while they watch. Each of them stands and starts to fondle her, kissing her more and more aggressively, pulling her hair, grabbing her breasts, smacking her ass. Then they attach a collar and a leash to her neck, and instruct her to walk on all fours while they lead her to some sort of box thing that has a bunch of attachments, you know?” You nod, your chin in your hands, completely entertained by this telling of the story. “So they’ve got her on this box on her back and attach her arms and ankles so that she’s spread-eagled and just left totally helpless. One of them lowers herself on her face--”

“Her pussy?” you prompt.

“Yes--” she gasps quietly and smiles. “She lowers her pussy on the submissive’s face while the other one eats her pussy.”

“This is a lucky sub,” you joke.

“Yes!!” she says. “Anyway you see what I mean I’ve been finding all this stuff that really appeals to me, much more than anything I’ve done or seen before.”

“And so what do you think the next step is, then?” you asked her in a patronizing tone. You knew she understood you saw sex as a fun activity consenting adults can engage in without any overly delineated relationships. You also knew she understood you saw lots of people casually like this.

She frowned again, then blushed, and hesitated. You looked at her and raised your eyebrows in mock-anticipation. She slid her legs down and got up on her knees to be eye-level with you.

“Tell me what you want,” you said calmly.

“I want to have you tie me up and fuck me and make me cum!” she said frantically.

“You just broke up with your partner. It’s not a great time to be jumping into something like that with a friend,” you counseled. You were sincere.

“I know, I know, it seems that way, but really, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, but we were monogamous, and now that I’m single, it’s the first thing on my mind. It’s the only thing on my mind!”

“You’re horny,” you said.

“Shyeah!” she replied, “I am! Of course I am. That’s what I’m saying!”

“And you’re hyper,” you joked.

“Yes! I’m always hyper. I’m always hyper and I’m always horny,” she laughed.

You stood up. “If that’s true, then you’ll be horny tomorrow, too.” She looked at you confused. “I’ll message you in the morning. For now you should go home, find some new stories you like, and cum reading them.”

She hesitated, then stood up. “Okay, yes, I’ll do that. Okay. Yes!” You led her to the door. She paused and looked back while she opened it. You gave her an encouraging look. She smiled and left. You headed back to the bedroom and stripped off your shorts and buried your hand in your wet pussy again.

***

The next morning, you woke up to find a text from Chelsea: “I did what you said!!”

“Okay, and how did it go?” you replied just before getting in the shower. When you got out, there were seven texts from Chelsea.

>It was great
>I found lots of great stuff
>I came really fast lol
>But then a bit later I started again ha

>Anyway I’m like even more convinced about this so

>Is that weird?

>Are you there?

“I’m here, just got out of the shower,” you replied. “Why don’t you come over again and we can play together if you’re interested?”

“Okay :) That would be great :)” she wrote back quickly.

***

She arrived wearing an outfit you had previously complimented her on. It was a pencil skirt that hugged her curves and showed off her legs, with a tank top in an emerald that complemented her reddish hair. You smiled and hugged her, and you could tell she was wearing perfume. She was taller than you, but she melted against you when you held her tightly.

“Do you want to play?” You asked, holding her hands.

“Yes,” she gushed and squeezed them.

“Alright. If at any point you want to stop, your safe word is ‘Dinosaur.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes!” she blushed.

“What’s your safe word?”

“‘Dinosaur’!” she yelled. You laughed and took out a collar.

“I heard you’re into these,” you joked and stood on your tiptoes to fasten it around her neck. She closed her eyes and her breathing was already heavy. She felt the weight of the leather and metal on her collarbone. You pulled out a leash and clipped it to the collar.

“Let’s go,” you commanded. She obediently got on all fours and you gently tugged her in the direction of your bedroom.

She’d been there before, even shared your bed a couple of times when she had to spend the night if you were out late at a bar. It looked different to her now, though. You had dimmed the lights and lit candles, and there was low music with a deeply resonant bassline that imparted a dream-like atmosphere. And the chest was open.

The chest, she knew, was where you kept most of your toy collection. Not all of it could fit there, of course, but it was the main storage unit for the collection you liked to brag and joke about with friends. She had never seen inside it, though.

“Up,” you motioned to the bed. She stood up and sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes adjusted to the light and she noticed you were wearing a very similar outfit to the day before -- tight black shorts and the cardigan -- but she realized that under the cardigan you were topless. She bit her lip. With her sitting on the bed, her eyes were at your chest. You leaned over, just as she has to when you kiss, and gently pulled her chin up so that your lips met. You kissed her softly and she sighed against your lips, her tense shoulders relaxing a bit, because even with her enthusiasm she really was nervous. Your excitement overshadowed your own nerves.

You pulled back from the kiss and grabbed her leash again. “Come,” you ordered, and gently led her to the head of the bed. “On your back.” She laid down on the bed with nothing but a bottom sheet on it. You unclipped the leash, and took her right hand, extending it to the headboard, and closed a cuff around it. You repeated this with every limb at every corner of the bed, fastening them tightly by pulling on the X-shaped straps stretched under the mattress, until her legs were spread-eagled and her arms were immobile.

“Is this like that filthy story you read?” You cooed into her ear. She sighed and whispered “Yes.”

“What did that lucky little submissive in your story call her dominants, anyway?”

“Mistresses,” she sighed.

“Hmm I don’t like that very much,” you teased while running your hand up her leg and over her skirt, up to her abdomen and over her breasts, then back down again. “I want you to call me ‘Your Highness.’”

“Okay,” she said.

“Try again,” you said, and squeezed her breast.

“Yes Your Highness!” she said, her eyes snapping open.

“Good!” you smiled encouragingly, and before she realized what was happening, quickly pushed her top up over her chest. She hadn’t worn a bra -- you noticed as soon as she arrived -- so her small tits were naked and her nipples already hard. She gasped as you ran your hands over them gently, then started to grab them more forcefully.

“Pull against your restraints,” you commanded. She did, fruitlessly, while you began to rub her nipples between your thumbs and fingers. “Do you like feeling completely contained like that?”

“Oh yes,” she said, and you squeezed her nipples to correct her. “Yes Your Highness!” she gasped.

“Good. You look fantastic tied down like that. I can tell that this is where you’re supposed to be.”

Her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed again. You continued to fondle her breasts, getting rougher and rougher, while her breath sped up.
You stood up and slid your shorts down and stepped out of them. You climbed onto the bed, standing overtop her. She looked up at your breasts, visible now with your top open, and her eyes fell down to your pussy.

“Is this what you want?” you asked her, running your hand down to your labia.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said.

You smiled. “Well done, you’re learning!” you said as you lowered down on to your knees, one on either side of her head. She could smell your wet pussy and you saw her strain against her cuffs. You swayed your hips over her face to the beat of the music, letting her watch your pussy but keeping it just out of reach. Finally she leaned forward to lick it and you pulled back.

“Not yet,” you chastized. Her head fell back against the mattress.

“I’m sorry Your Highness.”

You continued to grind your hips above her face, getting closer and closer and then pulling away again.

“You want to taste me so badly, don’t you?” you teased.

“Oh yes please yes,” she begged.

“Why is that?” you asked, mockingly.

“Ohh,” she sighed.

“Hmm?” you prodded, lifting farther away from her face.

“Because you’re so fucking hot, Your Highness!” she blurted out. You chuckled.

“Yes, that’s true. But it’s not why you want to taste me so badly. It’s not why you were practically begging to have me tie you up like this. And it’s not why you’re leaking through your skirt into my mattress right now.” She sighed again. “It’s because this is where you belong. You’re a little sub who needs to serve.”

“Yes!” she moaned.

“Say it.”

“I’m a little sub and I need to serve you! Please let me serve you, Your Highness!”

You lowered your pussy on her face, your hole over her mouth and your clit on her nose, and began to grind your hips into her while she licked.

“Let me feel your tongue,” you said. She moved her tongue inside your hole when you grinded down hardest, and lapped at your pussy lips when you lifted slightly. She gasped for air and you moved up and down so that her lips and nose brushed your hard clit.

Suddenly, you slid yourself down so that your face was up against hers and you kissed her gently, tasting your cum on her lips. “Did you like that?”

She was breathing hard and seemed surprised you stopped. “Yes Your Highness!”

“Good,” you smiled and leaned back, your weight on her abdomen while you began fondling her tits again. “But that’s not exactly what was happening in that disgusting story you told me about, was it?”

She smiled sheepishly, “No Your Highness.”

“What else happened it again?” you teased and gently smacked her nipples, pretending to try to remember.

“The other dominatrix ate the submissive out while the first sat on her face,” she said.

“Filthy… but genuinely arousing,” you teased.

“Yes Your Highness!” she said.

“Hmm. Well, here, I’ll have to improvise.” You stood up over her again and slowly turned, and lowered your pussy back down over her mouth. “There we go.” She obediently started licking again, and you paused to feel her tongue against you. Then you leaned forward folded your fingers under the hem of the bottom of her skirt. You pulled it toward you, up over her ass, and immediately noticed a giant wet spot in the crotch of her pink panties. You took three fingers and rubbed her wet pussy lips through her panties, causing her to groan against you. You responded in kind by pushing down against her more. Then you gave her some relief as you leaned forward and lowered your mouth against her wet panties, kissing them softly while she gasped and moaned in anticipation, your own pussy hovering just above her lips. Her breath felt cool on your wet labia as you reached your hand over her hip to grab the crotch of her panties and pull them aside.

You kissed her wet lips in a line up to her clit and felt her shuddering underneath you. You started to tongue her clit slowly, then lick upward to her hole, flick your tongue up, and begin again. After a few cycles of this rhythm she was beginning to grind her hips into the mattress.

You lowered your pussy back onto her mouth, and she returned to lapping at it greedily. She was getting wetter and wetter, and so were you.

You slid your other hand under her ass and curled two of your fingers into her hole. She jumped slightly at the surprise, and moaned against your pussy. You began fingering her slowly while you concentrated your tongue on her clit. Her legs started to shake and she was licking you more and more furiously. You lifted your mouth off her clit and let her panties fall back over her pussy while you removed your hands. You sat back against her face, grinding against her mouth, denying her breath for longer than you had before. Your own legs were starting to shake around her head. She was moaning against you and gripping her restraints, pulling on them.

After an eternity you lifted from her face and she gasped and choked for air.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“Oh yes, Your Highness” she moaned.

“Good,” and you pushed your pussy back onto her face. This time when you moved her panties over, you slid two fingers on your right hand inside of her, so that you could curl your fingers up against her. As soon as you started doing that, her legs started to move. Her knees were bending as much as the could in the tight restraints, and her feet were straining. She was moaning hard against your pussy while you pumped your fingers inside hers. You ripped them out, and she squirted hard.

“Good girl,” you said as you plunged your fingers back inside. “Can you do it again?”

She was moaning and gasping while you kissed your pussy against her lips, alternating pressure to keep her focussed on you, but let her breathe and bliss out in the moment. You pulled your fingers away without warning again, and she squirted again. She moaned loudly.

“Good girl,” you repeated. “I’m going to make you squirt one more time. And when I do, I want you to cum for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes Your Highness, thank you so much,” she gasped. You moved off her face in between her legs. “You’ve certainly made a mess here,” you pretended to chide her.

“I’m sorry Your Highness,” she sighed, lolling her head to one side, her eyes closed.

“No you’re not,” you teased. But before she could say anything, you had three fingers inside her. The extra finger was tight in her hole, and when you began to curl them you could feel how much more of an effect the extra one had. She lifted her head up suddenly and opened her eyes, then dropped her head back and moaned.

You pumped slowly at first, admiring how nice she looked tied down with her clothes still mostly on, her hair matted with your cum and her sweat, and her bare chest heaving with her deep breaths. You pumped your fingers harder and felt her getting closer.

“Are you going to cum, you filthy girl?”

“Yes Your Highness--” she gasped and clenched her fists, her eyes shut hard and her back arching.

“Cum for me,” you commanded, as you pumped faster and harder, “cum for me,” and you pulled your hand out.

As soon as you did, she lifted her head off the mattress and strained against the restraints so hard you actually thought they might loosen. Her body convulsed, and she sprayed all over your lap as she squirted much more than the previous two times. She continued to convulse as her orgasm ran over her, and she clenched and unclenched her fists and gasped for air.

She fell back against the mattress with her eyes closed. You stood up and gently undid her restraints, and sat down next to her, brushing her hair from her face with your fingers.

Her eyes fluttered open and met yours as her breath returned to normal.

“Did you like that?” you asked, caressing her cheek.

“Oh yes Your Highness,” she whispered, unable to speak any louder.

“Good. Now. Tell me about another one of those filthy stories.”

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