The Instrument (Lesbian BDSM Erotica)

by Cress, Rynna

  “But I’m wearing a bathrobe,” Zoe finished. Clare nodded.

  “He lives nearby, so I won’t be gone long,” She said. “There’s plenty of food in the kitchen that you’re welcome to help yourself to if you’re hungry.” Clare paused, looking Zoe in the eye. “I’m trusting you,” she finally added. “Do you understand that?”

  “Of course I do,” Zoe assured her. “Look, I’m not a criminal, and I’m not about to ruin the one good thing that’s happened to me since… well, since I can remember. I’m not stupid.”

  Clare smiled. “Good, of course not. I won’t be long.”

  And she hurried out, purse in hand, leaving Zoe alone with her thoughts once more. She didn’t know what she had expected coming out from her shower, but it certainly wasn’t this. Maybe she had just misread Clare entirely. The thought gave her a strange sense of guilt over her fantasy in the shower, like she had indulged in a sentiment that was supposed to be shared. Don’t be stupid, Zoe, she told herself, rolling her eyes.

  She made her way into the kitchen, and found the ingredients to make a sandwich. It felt humanizing making her own meal in a kitchen, but she found herself missing Clare, and wishing that she hadn’t had to leave. The woman was still an enigma to Zoe, and sharing a meal might have been a perfect opportunity to get a better sense of her motives, or at least to get to know her better. And what was more, Clare had said that she found Zoe intriguing, and even though she wasn’t sure that she knew exactly what that meant, Zoe couldn’t deny that it felt decidedly satisfying to know that this woman found her very presence to be pleasing.

  Sandwich in hand, Zoe made her way back to the bar. She moved to refill her water glass with lemonade, but stopped. There, behind the bar, was a small liquor cabinet. She swallowed hard, staring at the bottles behind the glass, and softly set the pitcher down.

  Damn it. She had been sober for over three months now, fighting her way through the alcoholism that had helped put her out on the streets. She had learned to avoid liquor stores, to avoid the kinds of people that made her want to drink, to avoid alcohol entirely – out of sight, out of mind. But now, here it was, staring her in the face, very much on her mind. Booze, lots of it.

  Zoe couldn’t resist. She at least wanted to hold one of the bottles, just look at the alcohol sloshing around inside. She wasn’t going to drink anything, she told herself… she just wanted to hold it. It was brinksmanship. She had to get as close as possible to the stuff before rejecting it, that was all. She’d just hold the bottle in her hand, then she’d put it back…

  Of course, it wasn’t that easy, Zoe knew. She could feel her lingering alcoholism, with thoughts like these begging her to give in, to just open the cabinet and take a bottle out and see what happened. Just leave the room, Zoe, she told herself. Go eat your sandwich in the kitchen…

  But finally, she gave in, racing to her knees in front of the cabinet and pulling at the handle. It was locked. Thank God, a part of her thought, but it was quickly drowned out by thoughts of finding a key. Again, she gave in, rummaging through the bar for a key, finding nothing. She was growing desperate. Just eat your sandwich in the fucking kitchen, she was screaming to herself inside. But the alcoholism had taken over, seizing on a moment of weakness, taking control of her actions. Zoe could pick that lock, she knew it. All she needed was…

  A paper clip would do the trick. She raced to Clare’s desk, nearly yanking the drawer out entirely, pouring through its contents, finally finding one. She quickly bent it into a pick, then hurried back over to the cabinet, jamming it into the lock. C’mon, she thought, c’mon…

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Zoe jolted upright – Clare had returned. The two locked eyes, Zoe’s face filled with shame.

  “I…” She began, not able to find an answer. Clare began calmly moving towards her, and Zoe wondered if she should bolt. Something inside told her not to. She looked down at the ground, guilty. “I’m sorry,” she said, weakly. “I just really wanted a drink.”

  “Look at me, Zoe,” Clare said, her voice alarmingly quiet. Zoe looked up, matching Clare’s stern gaze, tears starting to well in her eyes. Clare reached down, eyes still locked with Zoe’s, and slowly untied her bathrobe, pulling the belt out entirely. Zoe gasped, feeling Clare’s fingers brush against her stomach and sides – this was the first time Clare had touched her, and Zoe could feel the immense gravity of the moment.

  “What… what are you doing?” Zoe stammered, but Clare offered no answer. Instead, she grabbed Zoe’s shoulder and turned her around, pleased to see the pale girl following her lead. She stepped close behind Zoe, hands on her shoulders, their bodies grazing each other, and whispered in her ear, “I said I wanted to help you, and I still do. Do you want me to help you?”

  “Yes,” Zoe whispered, barely audible and far faster she could have expected.

  “Say it,” Clare demanded.

  “Yes. I want you to help me.” Zoe said, her voice beginning to tremble.

  “Good,” Clare said, as she pulled the robe off Zoe’s shoulders. Zoe gasped as it fell to the floor, leaving her completely naked, mostly surprised by the fact that she had naturally put up no resistance. This woman had her now, she knew, and whatever this was, it was about to happen. Clare took Zoe’s hands, gently pulling her arms behind her back and deftly tying them together with the belt, leaving her exposed and powerless. Then, with a grasp that was both firm and gentle, Clare gripped a fistful of Zoe’s hair and guided her head down, holding her face against the bar and gently rubbing her bare ass with her other hand.

  “I want you to stare at that liquor cabinet,” Clare said, “and answer my questions. Can you do that, Zoe?”

  “Yes,” she answered, her voice shaky.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Clare whispered. “You have an alcohol problem, don’t you?”

  “I did,” Zoe responded, her eyes fixed on the liquor cabinet. “I’m trying to get better.”

  WHAP! Clare’s hand connected with Zoe’s pale, exposed ass, a quick, stinging slap that made Zoe’s eyes go wide. “I asked you a question,” Clare said, soft yet stern. “I didn’t ask for excuses or explanations. Do you have an alcohol problem?”

  Zoe could feel the tears continuing to well in her eyes as she answered, “Yes.”

  WHAP! Another smack on the same cheek, causing Zoe to whimper. “Say my name when you answer me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes…”

  WHAP! “Yes what?”

  “Yes, Clare,” Zoe said, surprised to find her voice growing in strength.

  “Good,” Clare reassured her, lightly caressing Zoe’s slowly reddening ass. “When was the last time that you drank?”

  “About three months ago. Clare.”

  WHAP! “Are you lying to me?”

  “No!” Zoe protested through a wince, gritting her teeth as yet another strong smack came down. “No, Clare!”

  “So you don’t want to drink, do you?” Clare asked.

  “No, Clare. I told you, I’m trying.”

  WHAP! Zoe grunted, the stinging pain beginning to linger with each slap. “You said you wanted a drink. You were trying to break into the cabinet. Clearly, you want to drink.”

  Zoe was silent, not wanting to answer. WHAP! “Yes, Clare, yes,” she quickly stammered. “I want to drink.”

  “So what you really want is not to want to drink,” Clare asked, “is that right?”

  “Yes, Clare,” Zoe said, shutting her eyes tight, focusing on enduring the pain.

  WHAP! “Open your eyes, Zoe. I said I wanted you to look at that cabinet.” Zoe obeyed, ashamed. “That’s better. Now tell me, I’ve been very kind to you, haven’t I?”

  “Yes, Clare, yes.”

  “And you want to please me, don’t you?”

  “I… I’m beyond grateful for…”

  WHAP! “Answer the question.”

  Zoe struggled to form the words, but finally felt the last of her will to resist disintegrating. Finally, she
answered, “Yes, Clare.”

  WHAP! “Yes, Clare what?”

  “Yes, Clare… I want to please you.”

  Clare smiled. “Good. Because seeing as how you’re a recovering alcoholic, it would please me very much if you didn’t want alcohol. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Clare… I understand.”

  “Good.” Clare relaxed her grip on Zoe’s hair, guiding her back up to a standing position. “Now you can stay here as long as you like, and leave whenever you wish,” Clare said softly. “As long as you’re here, I will care for you and I will help you, but you will follow my rules. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Clare.”

  “Do you wish to stay?”

  Zoe took a deep breath before turning to look Clare in the eye, answering in a hushed, almost ashamed voice, “Yes, Clare.”

  Clare smiled, looking deep into her new pet’s eyes. “Good girl,” she said softly.

  Just the sound of it made Zoe shiver with satisfaction.

  “Now, in my house, we don’t waste anything,” Clare stated. “So before anything else, you’re going to eat your sandwich.”

  Zoe turned to look at the sandwich, sitting on a plate on the bar, forgotten. She turned back to Clare, beginning to try and escape her bonds, surprised by how effectively they restrained her.

  “But… my arms… my hands…” Zoe began.

  “Use of your hands – or any other part of your body, for that matter – is a privilege. Your arms are tied because I can’t trust you yet,” Clare said. “Ten minutes ago, you were trying to break into that liquor cabinet, remember?”

  “…Yes Clare, but…”

  “But nothing,” Clare quickly said. “Eat the sandwich. Now.”

  Zoe turned back to the sandwich, looking at it for a moment, hesitating. Again, Clare quickly grabbed a fistful of her hair, pushing her face down to the plate.

  “Are you a good girl, or are you a little bitch? Eat.” She snarled. Zoe, fearful of this new tone, quickly took a large, dehumanizing bite out of the sandwich.

  Clare relaxed her grip on Zoe’s head. “Now I’m going to go change clothes. When I get back, that plate had better be licked clean, do you understand me?”

  Zoe could only nod through the messy mouthful. “Mmm-hmmf.”

  “Good girl.”

  **********

  Clare returned to the living room, finding Zoe still bent over the bar, her cheek resting on the cleaned plate. She smiled to herself, enjoying the view of her new plaything – a strong, lean body, pale skin save for her tight little ass, still pink from the spanking, legs slightly spread… This girl was a special find, Clare thought to herself. Beautiful, obedient, and naturally submissive even if she didn’t fully realize it yet… Yes, she was going to enjoy breaking her in.

  Zoe lifted her head, sensing Clare’s presence, and craned her neck to see her. She stood wearing only the black robe, hanging open without the belt, offering a shadowy glimpse of her naked body underneath. Clare smiled at her. “Such a good girl,” she said.

  “Thank you, Clare,” Zoe said, quickly growing accustomed to her new role, surprised by how much she was enjoying it. She had been wet ever since that first touch, even during the pain of the spanking, even alone, eating the sandwich like an animal. It had nearly driven her mad having her arms tied behind her back – she would have given anything to be able to touch herself, if only for a few moments. The waiting was torturous, which only made her even wetter.

  “Come here,” Clare commanded. Zoe obeyed, straightening up and making her way before Clare. Clare eyed her up and down, inspecting her girl. She reached out, wiping a small smear of avocado off of Zoe’s chin with her thumb, and then slid the thumb into her mouth. Zoe closed her eyes, grazing her tongue over Clare’s thumb, sucking it gently.

  “Such a good little slut,” Clare said through a laugh. “And you said you weren’t into women.” Zoe could only offer a pouty, muffled whimper, as Clare began working her thumb in and out of her mouth with a slow, seductive rhythm.

  “Open your eyes and look at me,” Clare demanded, pulling her thumb out of Zoe’s mouth, watching as her green eyes slowly opened and met her gaze. “Part of pleasing me means being my good little slut, and that means that I do what I want with you, and you do what I tell you to do. Do you understand me?”

  Zoe nodded slowly. “Yes, Clare,” she said, her voice betraying the fear she felt, adding, “I’ve never done anything like this before…”

  “You mean with another woman, or as a submissive?” Clare asked.

  Submissive, Zoe thought to herself, so that’s what this feeling was called. “Neither, Clare.” She finally said.

  “And are you afraid?”

  Zoe nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “I am afraid, Clare.”

  “And what are you afraid of?” Clare asked, still wearing that soft, mysterious smile, still locking eyes with Zoe.

  “I’m… I’m afraid of what you’ll do with me.”

  “And why is that?”

  Zoe thought long about her answer, as if she needed to choose her words carefully. She didn’t – she knew exactly what to say as soon as the question was posed. It was the answer itself that frightened her.

  “I’m afraid because I know I’ll let you do it.”

  Clare smiled and nodded, placing a hand on Zoe’s cheek.

  “Yes, you will, girl,” she said, and Zoe’s eyes, as if ashamed, lowered to the floor. “Look at me.” Zoe obeyed, and Clare looked at her long and hard. “Do you trust me?” she asked. Again, Zoe took her time, thinking through the implications of her words, knowing full well what was hanging on her answer. Finally, with a solemn voice, she responded:

  “Yes, Clare.”

  “Good,” Clare responded, taking Zoe’s other cheek in her other hand, cupping her face. “Because you need to know that I will not harm you. I will hurt you when necessary, and I will push you, and I may even break you, but I will never harm you. As long as you are honest with me, as long as you give yourself completely to me, as long as you trust me, you will always be safe with me.”

  Zoe nodded. “I trust you, Clare.”

  A moment passed before Clare leaned in and kissed Zoe, deeply and passionately, a celebration of the bond that had just been formed. Zoe moaned softly into Clare’s mouth, losing herself in the sensations swimming through her body, tasting Clare’s tongue exploring her, teasing her. Clare grabbed a fistful of Zoe’s hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck. She leaned in close, slowly licking her way up Zoe’s jugular, up to her ear.

  Softly, she whispered, “Shall we get started?”

  **********

  part 2

  Clare’s bedroom was beautiful, like the rest of the house, decorated in soft, minimalistic earth tones. As Zoe followed her into the room, she was taken by just how… normal it all seemed. She kept waiting for Clare to push aside a bookcase, revealing a secret stairway leading down to a dimly lit dungeon. Perhaps she was naïve, she decided, but when she thought of “kinky,” she definitely didn’t imagine places like this, or people like Clare.

  “Here, your arms must be sore,” Clare said, as she quickly untied the belt pinning Zoe’s arms behind her back. They tingled softly as she slowly moved them back in front of her, the blood gradually returning to normal circulation. Clare moved to face Zoe, pulling her ass in close with the belt, gazing deep into her eyes. Zoe shuddered as their skin touched, their breasts pressing in close together, Clare’s hot breath against the side of her face. Somewhat awkwardly, she reached around Clare, gently placing her hands on her back, unsure of herself.

  “It’s all right,” Clare said, immediately picking up on Zoe’s uncertainty. “You’re allowed to touch me until I tell you otherwise. Go ahead. Take my robe off.”

  Zoe bit her lip, knowing she was definitively entering new territory here. She had always thought of herself as completely straight, but realized that she really hadn’t ever fully considered other
women. It had never even been an option for her. As she pulled the robe over Clare’s shoulders, down her back, and on to the floor, she allowed herself to take in the sight of Clare’s body in the dim room. Her skin was soft and smooth, her breasts smaller than her own, shaped almost like wine glasses, with small, firmly defined nipples. Moving on down, Clare’s smooth, fit abdomen and gentle curves almost seemed to guide Zoe’s gaze further south, transfixing her at the small patch of finely groomed, soft brown hair between her legs. Zoe had never allowed herself to look at a woman like this, as an object of intense desire. Zoe realized that she was almost panting, and that her pussy was as wet as it had ever been. She wanted Clare, in every imaginable way, and in all the ways she knew she couldn’t yet imagine.

  Clare smiled affectionately at the girl, recognizing the realizations she was going through. “You like looking at me, don’t you?” Clare asked. Zoe returned her eyes to Clare’s gaze, nodding. “Well,” Clare began, grabbing the silk robe’s belt and tying it tightly around Zoe’s head, blindfolding her, “there will be plenty of time for looking later.”

  She took Zoe’s hands, and guided her to the bed, a large, elegantly carved four poster frame. She sat Zoe down and stood before her, tenderly holding the girl’s face against her stomach. Her pussy is right there, Zoe thought. She wanted so badly to taste it, her reservations melting away faster than she ever could have expected.

  “You’ve been such a good girl tonight, Zoe,” Clare cooed. “Now, I want you to lie back, spread your legs, and relax.” Zoe took a deep breath and did as she was told, eagerly awaiting whatever Clare had in store for her.

  First, she felt Clare’s breath blowing over her clit, first fast and cool, then slow and warm, then fast again. She moaned gently, enjoying the sensation, but more out of anticipation over what she hoped was coming next.

  Her hopes were well-founded, as she soon felt Clare’s tongue running slowly up over her pussy, gently gliding between her lips, stopping at her clitoris, to which she gave a few gentle flicks with the tip of her tongue. Zoe could feel her eyes rolling back behind the blindfold – she had been eaten out by plenty of men in her past, and it had usually felt good, but never like this. Was it just the build-up? The blindfold? Or something more…