Edited to add: I think this works ok as a stand-alone story, but there are lots of parts that come first. If you are just now reading this and want to know how Sofia and Lucas got here, just put “Connections” in the search bar, and the previous posts will all show up.
One Month Later
Sofia woke up slowly. She stretched. Looked around the room. She was in her own bedroom, which was unusual these days. She smiled. Breathed deeply. That’s right, Lucas was out of town for the week. She stretched again. That was ok, she had plenty to do, and she’d be driving down to join him for the weekend anyhow.
He was working on The Project. That was how she thought of it, capitalized and all. The Project. She smiled again, remembering the night she’d first heard of it, that first night they were at the dungeon. That night, they had dived deep into the D/s aspect of their relationship, and it still made her shiver when she thought of his touch. His hand landing on her ass. Her mouth on his…
She shook herself out of that track. She’d never get out of bed if she started thinking about the ways he touched her. The ways he held her, cuddling sometimes, or pinned to the wall with her arms above her head. Holding her firmly over his knee. Holding her with words too. The way he had fired up her desire to submit, to obey and be his good girl.
That first night together at the dungeon, he had taken her to a board meeting about The Project, but she had been pretty deep in subspace and had only vaguely understood what they were talking about. Now she was as excited about the idea as Lucas was. A BDSM vacation spot. How cool was that?
And not just a vacation destination, but one that offered “Experiences”. Packages where you could design what you wanted. Just like – well, not just like, but a lot like – the Masters of the Castle series that she loved so much. Only this place was going to be Trauma Aware.
That was where she came in. The staff would be trained in understanding the impact of trauma. Maybe it was a subtle difference, but she thought it would add a level of expertise and understanding to everything they did. Sofia had believed for a long time that healing trauma was part of the foundation of the BDSM community. She didn’t think it was about trying to heal trauma, but something about the environment and the things they did, whether it was D/s or furries, was a pathway to healing.
Sofia was excited about being a consultant for The Project. She’d be called in at just about every stage of the work, from designing the rooms to training the staff, and planning the experiences. Not just her, but other experts as well, a team of people that she was putting together to support these efforts for The Project.
It was also the closest she’d come to combining her personal life and her professional life. Fortunately, she thought, Lucas was really good at helping her keep them cleanly separated. And speaking of Lucas – she pulled her phone off the night table and put on her glasses. It was time to text him.
She wasn’t required to text him first thing in the morning, but he liked it when she did, and it had developed into a ritual of sorts. She sent a simple “Good morning” message, but added an icon of a hand with the fingers spread open. That was the signal that she wasn’t busy and had some time. Then she waited for his response, glancing at the clock.
The ritual had developed in their first couple of weeks together. She was to wait 5 minutes and if he hadn’t responded by then, she would know that he was tied up with something and to move on with her morning. Sometimes he responded immediately. When he didn’t, she was to remember the last time they had been together and the part of it that stood out the most in her memories. Not necessarily the best part, although it was often that, but the part that stayed with her. She could write it down to share with him later, or not, but he loved to hear about it when they talked. She had a special journal that was quickly filling with those memories.
This morning though, the phone rang almost immediately. FaceTime, not a phone call. She answered quickly, smiling to see his face on the screen. “Good morning, Sofia,” he said, and his voice was warm and welcoming. “Did you sleep well, sub girl?”
“Yes, Sir,” Sofia replied, smiling in anticipation of whatever was to come. The signaling was so simple, but clear. He had called her sub girl, which meant he wanted to play, and calling him Sir meant she was able and willing to follow his lead. She felt herself growing hot, her pussy already responding.
“Put the camera in the stand,” he said. He had a small tripod set up on her nightstand so they could talk without her holding the phone, and she placed the camera there.
“Kneel,” he said, “First position.”
She knelt on the bed, legs open, shoulders back, hands behind her back. She felt exposed, her nightgown was silky and almost see-through, but she was still covered.
“Good girl,” he said, “Breasts and cunt too, please.” Blushing at the c-word, Sofia pulled the top of the gown down so her breasts were lifted and fully exposed. Then she pulled the bottom of the gown up so she was exposed from the waist down. Really, she thought, he could just as well tell her to take the gown off. It was actually more embarrassing to sit here with just those parts open to his gaze.
“Very nice,” he said, “hands behind your back, please. Yes. Good girl.” He paused, just looking at her body, for what seemed like a long time. Then, he smiled. “I’m having this fantasy. In my fantasy, I have you pinch your nipples until they’re nice and hard. Then I put the nipple clamps on. Tighten them up.” Sofia bit her lip. She was getting so turned on already, just listening to him, knowing exactly what this would feel like. Her nipples almost ached.
“These clips,” he said, “Are attached to a chain, which is attached to another chain and clip. This third clip attaches to your clit. Bring your hands in front of you now and spread your outer lips. There you go, now get your finger wet and stroke yourself, I want your clit nice and hard before I attach this other clip.”
Obediently, she stroked, feeling her clit get hard. “Look,” he said, “Look how hard your nipples are. Nice. Ok, that’s enough, stop touching yourself, just rest your hands on your thighs now. I’ll attach the third clip to your clip. It will feel odd and a bit uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt when it’s attached and your arms are down. Your nipples, however, will be getting pulled on and they’ll begin to ache. To hurt a lot.”
Sofia bit her lip, she could easily imagine this. And she was getting wetter, her nipples were harder. Lucas went on. “So then I tell you to put your hands behind your head. Obediently, you do so. Go ahead and do it now.”
Sofia raised her hands, placing them behind her head. Of course this raised her breasts and in her mind she could see the chain that ran down to her clit lifting as well, being pulled up tautly and, “Exactly,” said Lucas, “When you raise your arms, your breasts feel better, it actually eases the pain of your nipples, but now it’s tugging on your clit, so much pressure, it hurts, it hurts so much, and yet you’re getting wetter and wetter.”
He paused, while she imagined the feeling, squirming a bit. “Yes,” he said, “If you move, you discover that it increases the pain, it is just that much worse,” and Sofia whimpered. He smiled. “Good girl. You can bring your arms down, slowly now, because when they come down, that pain your nipples were feeling before, is going to be so much worse.”
Sofia brought her arms down slowly, surprised that it didn’t actually hurt. He smiled again, not the smile of the sadist, but a smile of affection. “Good girl,” he said. “You could almost feel that, couldn’t you?”
“Yes!” she said, startled that it was true.
“I love your responsiveness,” he said. “I love your willingness to open yourself and let me inside you. You really are my good girl.”
Sofia was warmed by his words. From deep inside herself, she felt a rush of joy, the joy of a submissive who has pleased her Sir.
“I know you have a full day ahead of you,” he said. “And I don’t want to distract you. So I’ll be all vanilla if you want to text me. I’m through for the night at 8. Message me goodnight any time after that, but first get in position like this, and think about me putting the clamps on again. Then let me know you’re ready. Does that work?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said. She was still kneeling in position now, he had not released her. That would come next.
“Sofia,” he said, “It’s been a pleasure. Get yourself some coffee and do whatever you need to do to start your day. Remember that you belong to me – and you are a beautiful, powerful and wise woman in the vanilla world. You have the strength of generations of strong women and as a healer you bring that gift to the people you touch. Take a deep breath and know that I support you too, always.”
Sofia did breathe then, deeply, and smiled. It was as if he’d tied her up and then let her go. She adjusted her gown. “Whew!” she said, “That was really hot. What a lovely way to start the day.”
He nodded, “I thought so. I want to talk about your schedule – do you know if you’re going to be able to come down on Friday or wait til Saturday?”
“Oh, Friday!” she said. “I should be there by 2:00.”
“Great,” he said. “Simon’s coming down too. We can give him the grand tour and then the rest of the evening is ours. Saturday, I have a lunch meeting with him planned so we can go over some more details, sound good?”
“Absolutely,” she said, “I like Simon. I’m glad he’s getting involved.”
“Yep, me too. Anyhow, I’m going to get to work, take care, ok?”
“I will. You too.”
They hung up then, and she headed for the Keurig. Fast coffee was so magical. And it was going to be a long day, a long week really. But a good one. Her coaching practice was really growing and that made her happy. The weekend was going to be great.
She was really happy, thinking about how lucky she was. Then she felt a huge rush of anxiety, so strong it could have knocked her off her feet. Things were too good to be true. It couldn’t last. The other shoe was going to drop, something bad was on the way. It was as if the sun had been turned off, the world was dark and cold.
What was going to happen? Probably, Lucas would turn on her, she’d find out he didn’t really care, he was just using her. Or her practice would fall apart, she was a fraud anyhow, why would people want her to coach them? Yeah, that’s probably what would happen, the career path would fall apart first, people would realize she didn’t really know how to help them, or she’d say something really stupid and she’d lose all her clients. Then she’d get so miserable and needy that she’d lose Lucas too.
She had made coffee and was almost five minutes into a fantasy of just how bad everything would be when she realized what she was doing. Then she shook herself. Damn. She would have to ask to be punished for that.
She picked up her phone, clicked to the Punishable Offenses list in her notes, and dictated, “5 minutes predicting a dystopian future with out Lucas or coaching.” She thought about that for a moment and added, “Self-correcting with mindfulness.”
She put down the phone, sipped her coffee, and took a deep breath. “Right now,” she said, aloud, “I am right here in my home and right now, everything is perfectly ok. I don’t have to worry about some vague bad things that might happen in the future when there’s no basis for it. Something bad probably will happen at some point, that’s just how life is. Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it then. I don’t have to worry about it now. I can enjoy the life I have, right now today.” She repeated that a couple of times and felt much better.
She hoped that Lucas wouldn’t make her write lines. She wondered if he’d tell her the punishment today or make her wait til the weekend. Then she let that go too. He’d do whatever he was going to do. She didn’t have to worry about that either. There was no point in figuring out what she hoped he’d do when it didn’t make any difference at all what she wanted or hoped. The decision was his, and, like it or not, she’d obey.
She laughed, pleased with the certainty that she could put herself in Lucas’ hands. “I really am living my best life,” she thought.