by L E Royal
The woman herself had been at a business dinner all night, and with her phone quiet, Parker had found she had far too much time to think. She was eager to see Kristina again on Friday, and even more eager to open the package that had been sitting on her doorstep when she arrived home. Neatly written in the corner was Sender: K. Diaz. A text message earlier in the day had informed her she would receive mail and not to open it until she was told.
The sofa was soft underneath her. Roland was asleep upstairs in the guest bedroom. The antiquated baby monitor she still used for her own sanity sat on the coffee table.
It was like Kristina had awakened something inside her that night at the club, the following day upstairs in her room, and ever since it had been insatiable. As her mind wandered, she thought about it all: the text messages, the way Kristina’s breath had caught in her throat, the soft moan that had spilled from her lips when Parker pleased her. Parker remembered the press of fingers inside her, the tug of a hand in her hair, and again, she was aching.
The thought of touching herself with Roland in the house seemed dirty, wrong, but she was horribly tempted. Her fingers skirted the smooth fabric of her pajamas, and she tuned out the TV, remembering how her name sounded in Kristina’s mouth, the way she’d…
Her cell buzzed on the coffee table, making her jump, guilty. She grabbed it.
Bathroom break. Some of these people are insane. How’s your night going?
She tapped out a reply, pleased Kristina had thought to message her.
Good. Roland’s in bed. Just lying on the sofa debating my morals of late.
The reply was instant.
Explain?
She sighed.
Just feeling guilty about how often I want to…indulge myself since I met you.
The phone rang. Swallowing hard, excitement spilling into her stomach, she accepted Kristina’s call. She heard the swell of a crowded room around her; then the line went suddenly quiet.
“What type of indulgence are we talking about?”
Her voice was already low, rough. Parker’s body reacted to it immediately.
“Well hello to you too.”
She heard Kristina sucking her lip.
“I don’t have time for your sass right now, Parker. Why do you feel guilty about pleasuring yourself?”
Her cheeks burned at the question.
“I, um… Aren’t you at a party?”
“I stepped outside and it’s freezing.”
Oh. That explained the curtness.
“I don’t know. I just think it’s not…right to want to do it so much, especially when you have a child asleep in the house.”
Kristina snorted.
“Sweetheart, pleasuring yourself, taking care of your needs, is an important part of self-care. There’s nothing not right, or unnatural about it.”
She sounded so sure Parker almost wanted to believe her, but she wasn’t sure Kristina Dominatrix Diaz had an entirely accurate worldview.
“I’m not sure polite society would agree.”
“Who exactly is polite society? Old white men who want to believe a woman exists solely for their pleasure and God forbid she get any of her own, especially without their input.”
Wow, she was passionate about this.
“I want to hear you say this, Parker.”
Kristina paused, and even over the phone, Parker felt herself falling under her spell.
“It’s okay to enjoy sex. I deserve sexual gratification.”
She swallowed hard and then repeated the words back to her, forcing herself to feel them.
“Good girl. Now as much as you’ve made my night hell, thinking about you at home doing that while I have to entertain these idiots, I do have to get back. Did you open the package?”
Parker tried to keep her exhale quiet, disappointed Kristina was about to disappear again.
“No, Mistress.” The words were soft, breathy against the phone.
“Good girl. I want you to touch yourself until you come tonight, and I want you to think of those words while you do, okay?”
She hadn’t expected that. She swallowed hard.
“Yes, Mistress.”
She held her breath, waiting for Kristina to hang up the phone. Though she was excited by the command, her heart was oddly heavy at saying goodbye. There was a long pause.
“I miss you too, sweetheart.”
The line went dead.
SHE’D DONE AS Kristina asked, twice. Even going as far as sending her a picture of herself laid there on the sofa, cheeks flushed, eyes still dark from her last orgasm. She hadn’t received a reply.
Marion had texted asking if they could pick Roland up in the morning, and she’d agreed. Sometime afterwards she must have fallen asleep. She woke up on the sofa to the sound of the doorbell, her back aching.
Shit.
She scrambled to her feet. She smoothed down her hair, socks skidding on the hardwood of her hallway right as Marion and LiLing stepped through the front door.
Marion laughed.
“He still asleep?”
Parker nodded, disoriented.
“What time is it?”
“Almost six. We wanted to get him out of your hair before you had to start getting ready for work.”
She mumbled her thanks, already leading them through to the kitchen. She smashed the button on the coffee maker, bidding it to work quickly.
“What’s this?”
Crap.
The package from Kristina was in Marion’s hands, and she was turning it over with interest.
“It’s nothing.”
LiLing was looking over her shoulder at it.
“Nothing from K. Diaz. Isn’t your girlfriend’s name Katie…”
“Kristina,” Marion supplied unhelpfully, eyes shining with glee. Parker groaned.
“She’s not my girlfriend, and it’s some sort of surprise. I’m not allowed to open it yet.”
LiLing seemed satisfied with that, but Marion’s eyes held her own with interest, and it was just too early for all this.
“Not allowed?”
Parker nodded, feeling her cheeks flame.
“What happens if you open it anyway? Will she punish you?”
“Oh my God… I’m going to wake our son.” LiLing disappeared up the stairs.
Mercifully, the machine beeped, and Parker was able to busy herself with pouring a cup of coffee, turning away from Marion who she knew now was like a dog with a bone.
“Come on, P. You’ve been so secretive lately…” Her voice turned soft. “Did something happen? Is it not going well?”
Part of her wanted to say yes just to get her best friend to leave the subject alone, but she was a horrible liar, especially when it came to Marion.
“It’s going good, great actually.” She took a long swallow of coffee. It burned all the way down. “Kristina is just sort of private, and I’m trying to respect that.”
She could feel Marion tugging conclusions from her words.
“You like her.”
She crossed the room to her best friend, snatched back her package, and replaced it with the mug in her hands.
“Of course I like her. I’m sleeping with her, aren’t I?”
Marion sipped from her mug, studying her over the rim.
“No, it’s more than that. You like her, like her.”
“Oh my God, are we twelve?”
Do I?
“Ready to go?”
LiLing appeared in the doorway, a sleepy Roland clinging to one of her legs. Parker took back her drink and followed them through the house. She hugged them as they stepped out into the cool morning air.
“Don’t get attached, sweetie.”
Parker watched them leave down her driveway, a cute little family of three, something that wasn’t ever going to be in her future.
Of course she wasn’t going to get attached to Kristina. She just filled the void, for now.
THEY’D SPOKEN BRIEFLY last night, but watching he
r second to last Friday class file out, Parker caught herself again looking forward to seeing Kristina tonight.
Between that and wondering what was in the package she’d been instructed to take with her today, Parker was being driven mad. They had no solid plans for the weekend yet, but Kristina had said they would meet today, and Parker hoped beyond hope that was still going to be the case.
She grabbed her cup, eager to get a refill before she had to give her final lecture of the week, when the buzz of her cell stopped her. It was a text from Kristina.
Go to the bathroom and open your package, then call me.
Excitement shot in her chest, and she grabbed her purse, coffee long forgotten as she hurried to the single-stall bathroom down the hall. Inside, she tore into the paper, nervous and excited. The stupid brown box had been taunting her for the better part of two days now.
The little silver balls inside confused her. After a quick Google search of the brand on the card, they excited her. With the shiny spheres in her palm, she dialed Kristina.
“Kristina Diaz.”
She mustn’t have looked at the caller ID.
“Hi…”
“Sweetheart…”
The change in her tone made Parker smile; it was softer for her, and that gratified her somehow. The line on Kristina’s end was noisy, a swell of voices in the background.
“Do you like your gift?”
Parker was glad she’d looked up what exactly it was before she made this call.
“Well, they’re not what I expected, but I’m excited to try them out. Tonight?” she asked, hopeful.
“No.” The edge to Kristina’s voice already told her something was about to happen. “Now. I want you to put them inside yourself then go and give your last lecture. If you’re uncomfortable with the idea, you can veto with the safe word, but I find the thought of them inside you for the rest of the day very hot.”
The last two words were pure sex. Was she okay with this?
“I… Can I try them out first?”
They were just balls. How bad could it be?
“Of course. You might want to put them in your mouth first.”
The jump lost her, and Kristina must have realized it from her silence.
“It makes them warm and wet, sweetheart. I love how oblivious you are sometimes.”
Parker wanted to tell her to shut up but thought better of it.
“And are you just going to be on the phone while I do this?” In the bathroom, at work, her mind finished unhelpfully.
The line muffled for a second, and she could barely make out Kristina asking someone for directions before she was back.
“No, I actually have to go. Think you can handle things from here?”
Parker nodded, clacking the little balls together in her palm. They’re sort of cute.
“Yes, Mistress.”
Feeling brave, she ended the call. A text came almost immediately.
Let me know if you decided to wear them.
The time on her cell told her she had ten minutes. God, I’m actually doing this. She lubricated the balls like Kristina had suggested, feeling dirty as she unbuttoned her slacks and maneuvered one, then the other inside herself. Thank God they’re small.
Pleased with herself, she adjusted her clothes and shot Kristina a quick text.
I did.
They really weren’t bad at all. She felt full, naughty because she knew they were there, but beyond that they weren’t much of anything. Was she disappointed?
Gathering her stuff, she took a step toward the door and almost fell down. The balls bumped together inside her, the little weights inside them rolling around, making them almost hum. Damn Kristina.
Collecting herself, she unlocked the door and started down the corridor, trying to ignore the pleasant thrum of the balls inside her that seemed to be getting worse the further she walked. Thank God she could sit down and give her lecture.
You’re evil.
She shot off the text as she passed her room, aware her face was becoming increasingly flushed as she strode in the direction of the auditorium.
A tech was already setting her slides up on the screen, and students were just beginning to fill the stands. She thanked a god she didn’t believe in when she could finally sit down.
I try.
Now they had woken her body up, it was like Parker couldn’t forget the presence of the stupid balls. She forced herself to take a deep breath, ignoring the pressure between her legs.
It was almost five minutes past three, and the hall was half-full, probably as good as she was going to get.
She nodded for the tech to lower the lights, and grudgingly stood to introduce herself. Her phone buzzed just as she did.
Did I tell you you’re beautiful today?
Adrenaline shot white-hot into her stomach. When she looked up from her cell all she could see was the glow of screens, outlines of faces, eyes on her, expectant.
Was Kristina here? Of course not. She was being stupid.
“Good afternoon, everyone.” Her voice was rough, and she cleared her throat. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m Professor Parker Freeman from the English Lit Department, and today we’re going to be discussing common tropes in nineteenth-century novels.”
THE LECTURE WAS hell. Even sitting down she was all too aware of the balls inside her, rubbing her, reacting to every shift of her weight, leaving her crossing and uncrossing her legs uncomfortably. Though she knew it was illogical, a part of her was still on edge, still wondering what that last text had meant. Was Kristina just being sweet? How did she know how she looked today? Was she out there somewhere?
Parker nodded to the tech, feeling like she’d run a marathon, glad the hour had come to an end. The rustling of papers and bags and coats was already rising in the stands in front of her. She combed them quickly, half-relieved, half-disappointed when her eyes didn’t find Kristina.
“I will make these slides available online for those of you who want them. Any questions, please email myself or one of my TAs.”
Just the thought of standing up to pack her bag was terrible. She took her thumb drive back from the tech with a smile and wished him a good weekend, then lingered over stacking her notes neatly and clipping them together. When the room had emptied some, she picked up her phone.
Is there a reason for the flattery? Also, the last hour was hell. I stick to my earlier conclusions, you’re evil. Does it get you off knowing I spent the last hour horribly turned on?
Screw it. She felt brave after…that.
She stood, shoving her papers into her bag, calculating in her head where the closest bathroom was so she could take the damn things out. Her phone buzzed, and she almost didn’t pick it up to look.
It’s not flattery if it’s the truth. And to answer your question, yes, it does get me off, but what gets me off even more is seeing it.
Her head snapped up. What the hell was Kristina talking about?
Her eyes combed the seats, row after rapidly emptying row, yet still, she didn’t see Kristina. Her heart was beating hard, and she was way too keyed up. She stabbed out a reply, irritated.
What are you talking about?
No reply came. Frustrated, she gathered her bag and shrugged her jacket back on, trying to ignore the roll of the balls inside her as she stood.
“Excuse me, Professor. I have a question.”
She clenched tight on the balls, the feeling stealing her breath. She would know that voice anywhere.
“Kristina…”
Her name sounded rough, breathless, and mirth danced in those dark eyes in response. She stepped up onto the podium, and Parker’s heart flipped at the sight of her.
She was gorgeous in casual clothes, jeans, and a band tee. She could easily pass for one of Parker’s students. Was it crazy that she wanted to kiss her about as much as she wanted to have her bend her over the desk and make all the torture of the last hour worth it?
“Hey, beautiful.”
Kristina’s eyes were on her, hunger mixed with something she couldn’t recognize inside them. Remembering where they were, Parker glanced around. Only a few students remained, and even they were in the process of leaving.
“What are you doing here?”
She hated the catch in her voice, how something in her chest flipped as Kristina stepped closer to her. She watched purple-painted fingernails run along the edge of the desk… How did the action make her hotter?
“I told you, as much as I enjoy the thought of that, I enjoyed watching it with my own eyes much, much more.”
When Kristina’s eyes rose to meet her own, their connection was electric. She was a second away from losing it, from surging forward and kissing her.
“Professor Freeman?”
Parker’s eyes snapped in the direction of the interruption, everything in her crashing back to Earth when she came face to face with the Dean striding toward them.
“Dean Thomas.” Her voice shook. “How are you?”
His response was polite and then he was in front of them on the podium, and Parker’s brain seemed to have exited the building. The three of them were left in a moment of awkward silence, all caught under the weight of the introduction that was dying to happen.
“I uh, Dean Thomas, this is my…um…”
Kinky sex partner?
Kristina stepped forward to save her.
“Kristina Diaz. Parker is my partner. I’m here to pick her up.”
One hand was held out to the dean while the other settled on the small of Parker’s back, soft and possessive in a way Parker knew she would have absolutely loathed from Amanda, but loved from Kristina.
The dean’s eyebrows flew toward his hairline. He probably thinks she’s too young or too…
“Diaz. As in Logistica?”
Kristina nodded, and then the two of them were off, talking business—apparently the dean knew her father. Parker just tried to smile politely, watching the interaction and wishing she could forget about the balls inside her, and somehow recover from the shock of Kristina being here, and then the dean being here, in dizzyingly quick succession.