2 comments/ 8150 views/ 0 favorites Best & Breese By: ii_yahh I can feel her. Her presence is defining. I have pull to it, the kind of gut feeling when something just doesn't sit right with you, except I want this pull. It feels right. An unhealthy obsession I have to her. ************************************** Warm breath washes on the back of my neck as small fingers weave their way through my shirt. "Do you want me to stop?" A husky voice penetrates my ears. The voice sends chills down my spine it's effeminate and burly at the same time. My breath catches in my throat as my lips part. My heart thuds. I shake my head left in a subtle way signifying that in no uncertain terms should she stop. The fingers now touching my bare skin stop the soothing motion, and grip themselves in my flesh causing slight pain. "Speak" It's the same voice, that same voice from before, except it's become hard. A soft cold whisper. I swallow and lick my lips. "No." The fingers grip tighter. I gasp in shock. "No, what?" "No sir." "Good. It's not a difficult game." The voice says back to its normal smoky tone. "These are the rules. Rule one: You will do as I say when I say for the next 5 hours. If at all should you feel uncomfortable you will tell me with a soft word. Now pick one." It's a solid command. I rack my brain for a soft word. "Best." I feel a small smile form on her lips against my neck. "Best. Good. Now I need you choose a hard word." I shift my foot from my left foot to my right and exhale a shallow breath thinking about it. I bite my bottom lip picking the skin in between my front teeth. I change my view from the carpet to the nearest window in time to see a bright red car sports car pass by. "Mercedes." "Mercedes. Now I'm going to explain the difference once do you understand?" "Yes, Sir" "You are to only use the soft safe word when you feel uncomfortable with any of the following ministrations I am doing. The soft safe word is just a formality in the new relationship. Once boundaries are set and understood, this word is not going to stop me. The hard safe word is only to be used when the feeling of ministrations are too much for you to handle at said time, this includes pain and pleasure." She whispers in a firm business tone. She stops talking for a while letting her fingers learn the path of my stomach. The breath on the back is gone, replaced by a warm tongue flicking its way across my pulse, teeth nipping on veins. Lips press against my ear lobe. Words flitting through. "Let the games begin." ************************************* I wasn't always submissive, in fact I don't think I ever was but, now as I get older I have the need for someone else to be in control of what I do, how I do it, why, when and where. It's not like a master and sub type submissiveness. I just need guidance. I can pick out what I want to where and what I eat, I just need someone in my personal life who tells me I don't want you to go out or, you shouldn't have worn that. I want to have the normal adulthood features with someone willing and waiting to punish me when I screw it up like a child. I'm Loyal. Yes that is my name Loyal Breese. No, I am not a porn star nor do I aspire to be one. I'm an accountant at a local firm. I stand at about 5'3 with short reddish black hair. I have a Mahogany skin color with auburn eyes framed by a round face. I'm average in weight, average in life. I'm told that lips are my best feature. I'm known for splitting hairs in an argument. My mom once told me I choose the wrong career field and that I could make a killing at being a lawyer. I fight about being right when no one said I was wrong. I'm not shy, at all. I'm outspoken, I've been called rude, but I call it being blunt and, I love my whirlwind best friend Kayen Hale. So imagine my surprise when I have the need to be dominated, or controlled. I could blame on that stupid erotica book trilogy that I read, because everyone said it was so good, but I would be lying -- and honesty is always the best policy. Oh, and I'm a lesbian. Ha ha. Let's not forget small details. So let's be honest. We all dreamed about this BDSM thing. Whether you just want to be spanked a little while doing the nasty, or you want to do it full blow chains and whips, you thought about it. The thing is when I think about it I don't just imagine a fleeting experience. I imagine a relationship that evolves beyond the flogging and canes, and when I imagine that I get the sensation deep in the pit of my stomach like when you relive a sexual encounter in your head. Then, all I want to do is imagine it all over again just for that feeling. "You do realize I could have your parent backing on getting you institutionalized, Right?" That would be my best friend Kayen. Smug bitch. Who asked her anyway? "I'm still sitting right here, I can hear you inner thoughts" She's making those ridiculous air quotes by the way. "You cannot have me institutionalized. Why? Because if you told my parents about this, there would be no way to find your body after I'm done with you. Not even Cal Lightman would be able to tell if I'm lying or not. You will die. Besides it's not like I want to wear a Chain and Collar. I just want a little control. I want someone else to take over for a while you know?" "No, I don't know! I'm normal. I like penis, ones that are attached to actual males, and I wish he would tell me I couldn't go out. He'd never want to see a girl in heels again." "Oh. Aren't you just a riot? You big ball of sunshine! Penis is penis, attached to a male or female. Some females have penises and where born with them. I just happen to like penises that are made in china in vibrant colors like "lick me twinkle" and --" "Oh, eww stop talking." Kayen says while she sticking her perfectly manicured fingers in her ears and singing Adele at the top of her lungs. Come on now, how old are we? Despite my inner matureness I can't help but laugh at her off key and lyrically incorrect interpretation of the song. And when I say laugh I mean ball. Worst. Singing. EVER! Though she is my best Friend Kayen Hale and I couldn't be more opposite even if we tried. She stands at about 5'7 with no shoes on. She has skin the color of dark caramel and chinky eyes that, when she squints you can't tell if she is actually squinting or if she has her eyes closed. Her hair is the same color as mine the reddish black cause we got it done at the same time but, her hair reaches her shoulders when straight. She is a dress wearing, heel loving diva. I, on the other hand only wear dresses where it is strictly stated I do so. How we became friends, the world will never know, but hey here we are. Weaning of my laughing spell I forgot to check the caller Id to my ringing smartphone. Dumb. But the voice that came through was enough to make me wish I had, and make me stop laughing. Noa. Everyone knew Noa Best She was about 5'5 with melted chocolate skin. She had hard brown eyes -and raven black hair that reached the middle of her shoulder blades when straight. She had a commanding presence about her. You wanted to pay attention to her. Wanted her to notice you or, at least I did. She was what some would consider butch or a stud. She wore men's clothing that flattered her in a small way. She wore diamond studs in ears at all times and always had girls falling to her feet. To me she was the girl I went to school with but never knew. Literally, I went to school with her for years and never recognized her until graduation. We sat in the same row. Not a lot of B's in our school. 98 Williams and 126 Jacksons though. I counted. Graduation was the most boring day of high school history. Noa and I work at the same company. She's my boss. How this happened I don't know. She's younger. So what magic powers did she possess? (Her uncle owns it, the company that is). So I being who I am, an Administrative Assistant to her, am on call for her day & night. They said Administrative Assistant on the Craigslist Ad, What they meant was personal assistant. I know what size shoe, pant, shirt, everything this woman wears 36-26-36; I don't even know my measurements. Ugh. Caller Id. "Noa." "Now that you have replaced your caller id, can we move past who am to what I want?" "Well, what do you want Ms. Best?" "Excuse me?" "Sir. What do you want sir?" She preferred I call her sir. Why? She said that Ms. Best just didn't fit her. Nutsy Crazy if you ask me, but I call her sir. If you didn't know that Noa was gay well then you were blind. And I for one wasn't blind. "I want to know why you haven't called to check in." she stated matter of fact, like it was normal for me to check in on my day off. "Because today. The day on your calendar marked in pretty teals' and blacks' my favorite colors by the way, signify that I don't have to call, fax, email, text, respond, fix coffee for , pick up lunch for, address you. I am off. Sir. And, I've never checked in with you before, why start pointless habits now?" A deep chuckle meddled with my ears. A sound that had my lions clenching in anticipation of what was to be said, just to see if it made me as wet as the laugh. Okay to say I had a crush on my boss would be the worst cliché thing I could spew. So I won't say it was a crush, it was a fantasy. I had a fantasy on my boss. I wanted her to be the one to give me my guidance. I wanted her to be the one to tie me to her wooden headboard with rope and whip me until my ass was the color of Mario's hat. It was her I wanted to tell me to stay home or be punished. It was her. I wanted that guidance counselor. I needed her. "Be careful for what you wish Ms. Breese, you just may receive." OH SHIT! I didn't say that out loud. I know I didn't. I couldn't have. I've had this fantasy in my head for years. Why now? Don't speak. Shh, maybe she is just being intuitive. Intuitive my ass. I'm arguing with myself, I look crazy. "You looked like that before you started doing that." That's not my voice. Kayen. "Shut Up! Why didn't you tell me I was talking out loud?" I'm pacing back in forth of the teal couch in my living room decorated with black throws. It's my favorite piece of furniture. I love it. "I thought you were doing the whole creative process." She says waving her hands doing those mentally ill air quotes again. I hear someone call my name in a distant. I look out the window, and step out on the porch. I hear the voice again. I step back in the house. "Do you hear that Kay?" She's giving me this really retorted face. Like 'Bitch, if you weren't my best friend, I would choke you and bury you 12 feet under.' "It's your phone. Your boss. You counselor." Air quotes. "Oh, FUCK! Hello sir?? Sorry." "Be here in 25 minutes Loyal. Don't be late. I don't like tardiness and I punish. Is that understood?" In a barely audible whisper I reply with a meek yes sir and she disconnects the call. What did I get myself into? And do I really want it? Best & Breese Ch. 02 My smartphone is still clutched in my fingers, if it were a living being it would have died from asphyxiation. "So... are you going to continue to choke your phone or, are you going to tell me what your guidance counselor said?" "Uh... She said I have 25 minutes to be at work." I said tossing my phone on the couch and making my way to my bedroom. My sanctuary, if Kayen hadn't come over for a frappe this morning, I would still be in here, sleep, dreaming about Noa. Not actually meeting Noa in 25 minutes. If I was truly petulant I would totally blame everything that has happened in the last 5 minutes on her. I digress; I need to find clean underwear, Jeans and a t-shirt to put on to meet with Noa. "Oh, and she punishes." I say over my shoulder. "Sounds kinky." No air quotes. Just an evil cackle. I could give you the run down on what my room looks like but, there would be no point. Here is what you need to know. I have a bed and, more clothes on my floor then in the closet. Dirty or otherwise, sniff test are done to be sure. 10 minutes later I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be, about everything. I kick Kayen out on my way out the door and tell her in no uncertain terms is she too call or text me until I call or text her first, she has a habit of 'rescuing' me when I really don't want to be saved, plus -- I don't want to be punished for her actions. I have 15 minutes to make it to my building, park, and find Noa. Easy. Except, I forgot why I took off today, the Franklin Parade, Franklin was a man who believed in all equals and in Aurora, Colorado -- he was a big deal. He was the reason gay marriage was allowed in Colorado. It was like pre-gay pride, and the lack of parking showed. I found a parking space at least 10 blocks from my job, and prayed that my converse wouldn't stay mad at me for too long after the mad dash. I reached the doors of my building and pulled out my phone to check the time. 1:50. Shit! I was late. I mean I was at the building on time but I was late. I found myself, excited and nervous at the chance of being punished. I mean as long as this punishment wasn't job related I was ok. I need it for rent, and besides I was still paying off the car detail company after I got in a car wreck that involved a shopping cart and a McDonald's pole. I thought it was a person. Anyway, I considered praying to the sneaker gods again to see if I could make it up 14 flights of stairs, and quickly retracted my prayer, with a forgive me Jordan & Nike to push the elevator button. By the time I made it up the stairs, I was ready for this. As the corny Music version of some Brittany Spears plays, I stare at my feet and fantasize about the punishment. I mean, would she tell me I couldn't do something, tell me to do something to and for her. What? I was zoning by the time the elevator had opened its doors to reveal a very disgruntled Noa. You're late." She snapped. I was rendered speechless at her harsh tone. My fantasy replace by fear and nervousness. "I know, but the parking, and the parade and sneaker god, and stairs, and running." I stopped babbling long enough to pull air into my lungs. "I know --"She cut me off by turning around to face me. She had a perplexed look on her face, like she couldn't figure out what I was talking about. "A shoe god? Look I don't care if you have to run over Kayen's dog to get here. I told you what I wanted and you disobeyed. Follow me Loyal." "Yes sir." I followed Noa into her office; it was the size of a loft. The space was decorated in black in whites. Even the pictures decorating her desk were in monotone clors. "Face the window Loyal." I turned to face the window out looking the parking garage. I feel her warm body behind me as I watch luxury car after luxury car pass underneath me. I feel the urge to push my body back into hers, to make us become as one. Have her heat and my heat come together & turn her office into ash. "What do you want Loyal? Hmm, do you want to be pushed up on the glass and fucked for everyone to see? So I can show the world just how to treat people who disobey." My breath catches in my throat as she finishes her sentence. Other than the sound of blood rushing in my ears and my heart beating in my chest, its quiet. I'm quiet. "Do you want this to be a onetime thing? Do you want me to only punish you in personal matters? Do you want me to punish you at work, Loyal? Do you want to be exclusive or not? How deeply invested are you in this Loyal?" She says all of this is a soft whisper in my ear causing shivers to run. I try to catch myself from flinching and fail. I'm unaware if I'm allowed to talk, and I'm way too afraid to. "I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me in a Yes or No sir manner. Understood Loyal?" "Yes sir. Is that the question? She chuckles and gathers the lower ends of my bob in her hands to pull my hair and hold my head back. "No Loyal. It's not. Be careful. Your attitude can now do more harm than good. My question is: are you afraid of me?" "No." "Good." Warm breath washes on the back of my neck as small fingers weave their way through my shirt. "Do you want me to stop?" A husky voice penetrates my ears. The voice sends chills down my spine it's effeminate and burly at the same time. My breath catches in my throat as my lips part. My heart thuds. I shake my head left in a subtle way signifying that in no uncertain terms should she stop. The fingers now touching my bare skin stop the soothing motion, and grip themselves in my flesh causing slight pain. "Speak" It's the same voice, that same voice from before, except it's become hard. A soft cold whisper. I swallow and lick my lips. "No." The fingers grip tighter. I gasp in shock. "No, what?" "No sir." "Good. It's not a difficult game." The voice says back to its normal smoky tone. "These are the rules. Rule one: You will do as I say when I say for the next 5 hours. If at all should you feel uncomfortable you will tell me with a soft word. Now pick one." It's a solid command. I rack my brain for a soft word. "Best." I feel a small smile form on her lips against my neck. "Best. Good. Now I need you choose a hard word." I shift my foot from my left foot to my right and exhale shallow breath thinking about it. I bite my bottom lip picking the skin in between my front teeth. I change my view from the carpet to the nearest window in time to see a bright red car sports car pass by. "Mercedes." "Mercedes. Now I'm going to explain the difference once do you understand?" "Yes, Sir" "You are to only use the soft safe word when you feel uncomfortable with any of the following ministrations I am doing. The soft safe word is just a formality in the new relationship. Once boundaries are set and understood, this word is not going to stop me. The hard safe word is only to be used when the feeling of ministrations are too much for you to handle at said time, this includes pain and pleasure." She whispers in a firm business tone. She stops talking for a while letting her fingers learn the path of my stomach. The breath on the back is gone, replaced by a warm tongue flicking its way across my pulse, teeth nipping on veins. Lips press against my ear lobe. Words flitting through. "Let the games begin." She says and walks away. I turn to see her sit in her white leather chair sitting in the far corner of her office. "Take off your pants." I freeze. I didn't think I wanted to be fucked up against the window for people to see. At least not yet. I watch through distant eyes as my trembling fingers made their way to the top button of my jeans and lower my zipper I pull down my pants to reveal my white and pink lace thong from Victoria Secret and, look up to see her removing her silk red tie from her clean linen white dress shirt. "I want you to come over her and lay face down across my knees." I make my way to her chair and feel as if my stomach had dropped to my pedicured feet. "Faster Loyal. You need guidance? Fine, I will give it to you now hurry up." I pick up my pace and lay my body across her legs. I'm shaking and whether it's from fear or from excitement, I'm not sure. "Put your hands behind your back and cross them at the wrists." I hold my breath and do as I'm told. I feel silk on my skin and realize she is using her tie to bind my hands together. I can't fight back, and slowly I realize I don't want to. I want to be locked in this... situation. I want this. "I'm going to spank you Loyal. 25 times, and you're going to count them out do you understand?" "Yes sir." I feel her shift her weight in the chair and prepare for the worst. I feel her skin ski across my ass and shift in her lap. There is a stinging slap to my left cheek. "That one doesn't count. That was for moving. Keep still." Her fingers are back to flitting across my skin giving me goose bumps. I feel a sharp sting on my left cheek again. "Count." "One." I whimper She shifts again and hits my right globe. "Two." She repeats the pattern. Left, Right, Left until she gets to 20. She stops at twenty and rubs my ass causing my thong to rub my clit. I'm wet enough to leak through my thong and cause a small puddle on her lap. My thighs are sticking together and my arousal is now the new air freshener for her office space. Using one hand she parts my thighs slightly and cups her hand around my sex. I'm trembling. I want to come so bad. She lifts her hand and brings it down slapping the junction between my thighs and ass; she lifts her hand and wipes my juices on my back. "Twenty -- One." I ground out. She does this four more times. By then I'm a mass of nerves, and want nothing more than to squirt on her lap. She pulls my underwear down and stuffs two fingers inside of me the friction against my clit as me screaming her name and leaving my mark on her, her carpet and her chair. She unties my hands from my back and pulls me until I'm sitting in her lap. I feel her lips glide on mine and I'm pressing back with just as much gusto. I feel her small smile curve on my lips and pull back to see her smiling. I smile back and fall on her shoulder.