Sexual Deviance
Part 6 - Meeting Donna II
F/f, romantic, bondage
Donna's flat was nice. Not overly large, but it had a homely air to it. Covered
with clutter, old clothes draped over the sofa, newspapers going back a few
weeks strewn over the floor, magazines here and there, a few full bin bags
waiting to be emptied.
Meg paid no attention to any of that. Her first thought was the bedroom, the
door from the hallway slightly ajar.
Meg had never felt anything like this before. Her previous affairs had been
dominated by her own innate desire to serve. She had been afraid, but it had not
been the pleasant, welcoming fear she had experienced those times with Miss
Young. It had been nervousness. Will this one last? Will this one want me in the
morning? Does this one really care about me?
That nervousness had vanished here. There was fear, but it was exciting and
desirable. The fear she had known bound almost naked in the corridor, that had
excited her. Only half an hour later, the feeling was beginning to fade,
retreating into her subconscious.
Some things stuck. People had stared at her. People had called her things.
People had seemed to want her.
Better to be whipped and tied up by a woman who loves you than taken for granted
by someone who doesn't.
That one simple sentence stuck with her.
Donna did not bother with the preliminaries. She made no small talk, did not
offer Meg a coffee, nothing like that. She pushed open the door to the bedroom,
and waved for Meg to enter.
The room was small, untidy, clothes and books strewn about. Meg took in random
details without realising it. A large wooden chest in the corner. A stuffed blue
rabbit resting on the bedside cabinet. A graphic novel dropped beside the bed.
Meg felt as though she were floating, buzzing with energy. All over she was
tingling. Donna's body seemed to be radiating heat.
Donna glided close to her, their bodies brushing, her lips caressing Meg's
softly. Her head spinning, Meg let Donna push her down to the bed. Donna stood
above her, looking down, brushing Meg's hair.
Instinctively, obediently, Meg slid forward, to her knees, her mouth level with
Donna's groin. She began to push aside the folds of Donna's dress.
Donna shook her head, smiling. "Up on the bed," she breathed. Puzzled, but still
obedient, Meg sat up. She had assumed Donna would want her to... Everyone else
had.
A thought weaved its way slowly through the fog of desire surrounded her mind.
Donna wasn't like everyone else.
"Top off," Donna ordered, moving to the wooden chest, and opening it, rummaging
inside. By the time she returned, Meg was naked from the waist up, shivering,
partly from cold, partly from something else, something more than mere arousal.
Donna was holding a pair of handcuffs, felt lined. Gently, wth a flirtatious
smile on her face, she pulled Meg's hands behind her back, and secured them
there. They were soft and did not rub at Meg's skin, but they were unbreakable
and firm for all that.
Meg made soft moans as Donna pulled down her skirt, and slowly slid the panties
down her legs, leaving skirt and underwear entwined around her ankles.
Understanding was dawning. Donna wanted her naked before she would let Meg lick
her. Fair enough. That only made Meg more excited.
Still smiling, Donna slid down to her knees, spreading Meg's legs apart.
But...
Only slaves did that... Only... what was the word?... subs... bottoms... only
they did that?
Why would...?
Meg made to speak, to voice her confusion, but at that very moment Donna touched
her mouth to Meg's damp pussy, and the only sound that came out was a moan.
Oh...
Oh, my...
This made no sense. This confused Meg's entire view of the relationship between
slave and Mistress, but she did not care. Something she had previously found as
logical as the rising of the sun was thrown into disarray, and she did not have
the will to think about it.
Oh!
Oh!
Ohhhhhh!
She did not know if she was making those sounds, or simply voicing them inside
her mind. At that moment, Meg would not have been sure of anything, not even her
own name.
Oooooohhhhhhhhh!
This was...
Oh!
Incredible...
She had never...
Oh!
Oh! Oh! Oh! Ohohohohohohohohohohohoh!
She threw her head back, her body falling down onto the bed. Donna kept up her
work, still licking, lapping, caressing...
Oh!
There was a moment of silence, of completeness, of everything and nothing,
spreading out across her body, touching her nipples and her knees and her ears
and her toes and each strand of her hair. It was incredible, unbelievable,
ecstatic...
It was as if she had died...
"Oh..." she breathed softly, unable to comprehend what this was that had
happened to her.
Donna rose up, and idly ran a finger across Meg's face, flicking away a bead of
sweat. "Sounded like you enjoyed that," she said, jokingly.
"Oh," Meg said, simply.
Donna chuckled, and stood up stretching. Quickly, and carelessly, she shed her
dress and kicked off her shoes, revealing only crimson panties. She removed them
as well, and lay down on the bed, next to Meg, their bodies touching in
countless places. Everywhere they touched seemed to Meg to be an exposed nerve
ending, fire and fury passing through her entire body.
Donna kissed her neck, and she moaned.
"Been a while, huh?" Donna purred. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to take
whatever praise you want to give out, but I know I'm not that good."
"Never... known..." Meg panted. "Never..." She couldn't form a coherent
sentence.
"What?" Donna looked confused. Then she lifted herself up, resting on one elbow.
"You've never had..." Meg shook her head. "Never?" Again, a shake of the head.
"God, what kind of women have you been with?" A sudden thought came to her. "You
have been with women before?"
Meg nodded. "None of them ever did... that to me... Always me... to them..."
"What? Oh, sweetie. You haven't been choosing well."
"They... all..."
"Let me guess. They all wanted you to do what they wanted, the way they wanted
it. Right? And they all dumped you in the morning?" A nod. "You sure they
weren't men in disguise?"
"It was just... that was my... my... role... I was the... didn't know what to
call it... but the... the sub?"
"Anyone who tries to tell you that's your role is lying to get in your pants,
sweetie."
"But..."
"Listen to me. As a domme, one of the sexiest things I can imagine is watching a
girl screaming herself hoarse in orgasm. I loved hearing you then, looking at
you now... To know that I could do that to you, that I could have stopped at any
time..." She ran a sharp nail down Meg's thigh. "That's what I like."
"Better to be whipped and tied up by a woman who loves you than taken for
granted by someone who doesn't," Meg said quietly.
"Sounds like one of Angel's to me."
"Yes..."
Donna kissed her neck. "She's right, you know."
"Yes," Meg said weakly. "I think she might be."
----------
"Interesting," Doctor Kavanagh mused. "That was the first orgasm you ever had?"
"Yes, Doctor," Meg replied, faintly embarrassed. Bad enough she was having to
relive such a tender moment - the first time in her life she could recall being
truly happy - but to be questioned about such a matter...
You are a slut...
You are a disgusting little whore...
She remembered that image of herself, writhing and thrusting wildly in sexual
desire. She mentally compared it to that insane, glorious first experience with
Donna.
There was nothing wrong with arousal, surely? This wasn't some Puritan religious
state.
Disgusting little whore...
"None of your previous lovers had ever... what is the phrase? Gone down on you
before?"
"No, Doctor."
"And just Donna?"
Meg was about to mention Nurse Aiko's attentions while she had been strapped and
helpless, but then she recalled Doctor Kavanagh's reaction when she mentioned
the drugs in that meal. She kept quiet about that.
"Yes, Doctor."
"Ah. She was a particularly insightful person, you said?"
"Yes, Doctor." Where was this going?
"And the woman at that club... Angel? She said Donna had been with other women
before?"
"Yes."
"Did Donna ever talk to you about her previous lovers?"
"Just a little... She said... she had been looking for someone special, and she
hadn't found anyone until me."
"Aw, isn't that sweet? I'm going to be saying things you won't want to hear,
Miss Hayden. I think I have a good idea as to, if not the root cause, then at
least the reason for the exaggeration of your deviant behaviour and desires.
First, I think I want a bit more information. Carry on telling me about that
first time together."
----------
The weekend passed in a state of bliss. Meg had never known anything like that,
had never imagined anything like it. Entirely naked, usually tied up in some
fashion or other, her whole body tingling from Donna's skilled manipulations.
Most of it they spent in bed, but not always. They had watched TV on Donna's
couch, Meg naked, her hands cuffed behind her back, Donna playing with her
constantly, driving her wild. After about twenty minutes, Donna had tured the
telly off and thrown Meg to the floor.
Donna had prepared food for them, admitting she was a poor cook. Meg thought the
food was very good indeed, and had shyly offered to cook herself.
"You can't be worse than me, sweetie. What can you make?"
"Pasta, with tomato and salmon sauce. Welsh rarebit. A stir fry."
"Sounds fine. I'd better pop out to the supermarket to get some stuff. I hadn't
been expecting company this weekend." Donna smiled. "Now how to make sure you
don't run away the instant my back's turned?"
The twenty minutes Meg had spent chained to Donna's bed were the longest of her
life up until then. Listening out for the sound of the door, terrified Donna
would not return. Maybe she would get run over, or... or arrested for something
by mistake, or kidnapped...
Or maybe she would just not want to return. Maybe she found someone better on
the way to the supermarket.
Maybe...
The door opened, and Donna entered.
"Sorry about the wait. There was a long queue and this stupid, stupid bint on
the till and..." She paused, looking down at the naked and helpless Meg,
evidently noticing the sheer relief in Meg's eyes.
"I'll tell you aout it later," she said, moving forward.
Eventually, Meg had done the cooking, making the pasta with sauce. Not exactly
difficult, but it was a meal she knew well. It had been almost surreal, cooking
the only recipe her mother had taught her, wearing nothing except an apron that
said 'Kiss the Cook'.
Meg knelt (now naked again) besides Donna's chair as she ate. Donna fed her some
of the pasta by hand. Donna's approving words for her cooking meant more to Meg
than any other compliment she had ever received.
Most of the time, of course, they spent in bed.
"You have a lot of books," Meg noted idly, during one of many post-coital
moments. Her hands were cuffed to the leather collar that was the only thing she
wore.
"I've always liked reading. All sorts of things." Meg recognised some of them,
but not others. "I'll lend you some if you like." Meg nodded dreamily. "I've got
a few... ah... special books. Here, let me get one."
Donna pulled a thin, black-spined paperback from her shelf. Meg looked at the
title. Castle of Slavery. The cover featured a very attractive, Oriental woman,
chained in a dungeon. Meg's heart began to beat faster.
"Let me read it to you," Donna said.
"Snow Lily opened her eyes to darkness and fear. Everything around her was black
and cold. She tried to shift her position and realised that she was very tightly
bound. For a frenzied moment she struggled and writhed against her bonds, but to
no good. She was held very securely."
Meg listened avidly, imagining herself in Star Lily's place. Only, fortunately
for her, she was not held prisoner by an evil sorceress, but by a beautiful and
kind woman. She was shifting uneasily, crossing and un-crossing her legs to stem
the rising tide of desire she was feeling.
This was...
This was porn. It was a sex book. Oh, there was a plot, and characterisation,
but it was still a book about sex. Erotica, maybe, but she had never really
distinguished the line between erotica and porn.
She was being aroused by a porn book.
And she didn't care. It all seemed... right somehow.
Donna reaced the end of the first, short chapter, with Star Lily fleeing into
the city after having escaped her monstrous captors. Carefully, Donna inserted a
bookmark, placed the book on the floor, and slid her hand up Meg's thigh.
Over the course of the weekend, they finished the book. Donna showed Meg the
others she ad, promising to lend them to her.
And then, at some sleepy point after midnight Sunday.
"I wsh I didn't have to go to work tomorrow," Donna moaned. "I'm tempted to call
in sick. I really am."
"I have lectures," Meg said, wishing she hadn't. She could have missed them, but
her grades were slipping as it was.
"I'll get you a taxi back to yours tomorrow morning."
"Okay." Well, that was that. One weekend. Not that Meg wasn't grateful. She had
never felt anything like this, never known anyone like her. She would always
remember this weekend fondly. But... it would have been nice for it to continue,
for the two of them to have a relationship.
Oh, get real, she told herself. Why would a woman as sexy, as funny, as
wonderful as Donna, possibly want to be in a relationship with her?
And then, suddenly, treacherously, Meg began to cry.
"Sweetie? Meg, what's wrong? Meg?"
She couldn't reply.
"Oh... oh, Meg... Are you... having second thoughts?"
"What?"
"About seeing me again? I'll understand... if you... I know it can be hard
admitting to yourself what you feel... I had some trouble, and based on some of
the women you've been with... If you want to play it cool for a while, I'll
understand. I'll still be here if you... change your mind."
"What?" Meg tried to think. What was she saying? That she, that Meg, that...
No!
"No," she breathed. "I... you... I thought that... I..."
Donna rested herself up on one elbow. "Love... you..." She laughed. "You really
need to think about yourself a bit more and realise what an incredible person
you are." She kissed Meg then, tenderly and lovingly and wonderfully. Then, her
lips mere inches from Meg's own, she whispered, "can I see you tomorrow night?"
"Yes," Meg breathed, blinking tears from her eyes. "Oh, yes, I'd like that,
Mistress."
"Mistress?" Donna smiled. "I like the sound of that."
----------
"We moved in together about a month later," Meg said, trying to avert her eyes
from Doctor Kavanagh's gaze. The psychiatrist seemed to be thinking something,
and crsing Meg for being too stupid to notice it herself. "Donna got a new flat
about three months after that, big enough for the two of us."
"And your course? How did that go?"
"I failed some of my first year modules. I had to re-sit them. The re-sits
didn't go well... I dropped out after that. I got some temp jobs, worked in a
pub for a while..."
"Did Donna tell you to drop out of your course?"
"We... talked it over together."
"Did she recommend you drop out?"
"She said... she said that... that I shouldn't carry on doing something I wasn't
enjoying."
"Hmm." Doctor Kavanagh made some notes at that. She had been writing throughout
Meg's story. She suddenly winced and rubbed at her head tenderly. A look of pain
flashed across her face. "Excuse me," she said, angrily. "A migraine. I... get
them from time to time."
She picked up what was obviously some kind of painkiller, and took two, sipping
them with a glass of water.
"There, that will make it better, for a time."
"It must be... painful, having migraines," Meg volunteered, slowly. "My... Dad
used to get... them..."
The look on her face at that... it was an expression of outright... Meg had
never seen anyone look at her that way before. A combination of disgust and
hatred and loathing and...
"Really? Well, isn't that a little pleasant fact? Are you trying to build some
empathy between us? Do you really think I could have anything in common with a
filthy little slut like you?"
"No..." Meg whimpered.
"What was that?"
"No, Doctor Kavanagh!"
"Don't shout, Megan. I'm sorry. I get very irritable when a migraine comes on."
The doctor stretched, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. Blinking, she then
looked at the stress toy on her desk, the Newton's cradle. Taking two of the
balls, she raised them, and set them clacking against the rest, watching them
for a time.
"Speaking of your father," she said, after a few moments. Clack. "When did
you... ah... 'come out' to your parents?" Clack. "I think that's the modern
phrase."
Clack.
Meg closed her eyes.
Clack.
"Why don't you tell me about that?"
Clack.
Next: Doctor Kavanagh's Diagnosis
