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Mark liked his job, honestly. But an editor with his "amazing" promotion ideas made him think about quitting every time, and to complete another silly task Mark has to turn to an old friend for help.
From time to time, editor of the magazine where Mark worked would light up with the idea of taking their brainchild to a new level with a sensationalist article, and then the entire editorial staff would scream.
This time Mark was the unlucky one, and now, staring out the window of the coffee shop overlooking the summer sunlit street, he wondered if he should resign, because the topic he was given seemed to be really disastrous.
"You used to draw me into your projects at university and now continue to do so,"
Elizabeth sat down on the chair opposite, scuffing it with her loose legs on the floor. They studied at the same faculty and, often bumping into each other in the university library in search of a place for private studies, started talking and became friends.
Mark took his eyes off the window, smiled guiltily and shrugged vaguely, not knowing how to approach the conversation.
"Can I order you something?" finally he started talking in neutral way, and without waiting for response reached for his wallet.
"Oh, so you're going to give me another dirty job," Elizabeth nodded with satisfaction. For more than seven years of friendship she had learned Mark inside and out, and every time she saw him walking towards her with two cups of coffee or a bag from her favorite bakery, she knew that Mark was going to ask for help with preparing list of references for a term paper or borrowing money before paycheck.
"Order me sangria, since I'm not going anywhere on vacation this year," Elizabeth chuckled, barely glancing at the list of summer drinks, and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and expressively examining Mark, who instantly felt uncomfortable under that gaze. "Well, tell me everything."
"Editor wants me to write a sensational article which will shake the public," Mark intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on them, following the waiter's gaze as he accepted the order.
"Why don't we just go straight out the window, buddy?" Elizabeth laughed. After examining the table she pulled a glass ashtray towards her. The lid of the cigarette case popped open with a click. Mark watched out of the corner of his eye as a burgundy lipstick mark was imprinted on the matte thin filter of the cigarette when Elizabeth exhaled smoke.
"So how can I help you?Just don't ask me to leak information about plans for our next release. I love my job and I'm not going to be mole."
"That's not what I'm talking about, our business is not doing that bad!" Mark was indignant, but stopped almost immediately, realizing that it was not appropriate for him to feign offended pride. He sighed heavily, reached out and took a drag on the cigarette Elizabeth handed him without question.
The tobacco-cherry aftertaste instantly descended onto the tongue. "He wants me to write about the Rose Garden. I mean this newly opened club that hosts sex parties. Rumours are that they often have a BDSM theme."
In the big world such events were not something surprising, but in their small town they created a stir, consisting of gossip willingly composed and reverently passed on to each other's ears, shameful or harsh condemnatory statements, and endless new entries of the name in the search bar. Everyone was extremely curious - both those who were interested in visiting and those who wanted to speak out some nasty things.
"As you understand, I need to get there to write an article," the closer Mark got to the essence of their meeting, the more his mouth dried up and his tongue disobediantly stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Single tickets cost like the wing of an airplane, and they'll probably look the wrong way at a single person hanging around there, so I thought…"
"Wait-wait-wait," Elizabeth, who was about to take a sip of sangria, slowly put the glass down on the table and frowned, thinking. "So you want me to go there with you?" A skilfully drawn thin eyebrow arched questioningly, giving Elizabeth a puzzled, squeamish look.
"Something like that," Mark replied evasively, although there was simply nowhere to avoid. He didn't want to admit to himself, much less to Elizabeth, that earning were that bad, and even less that he was frankly uncomfortable going there alone. "I understand that this is very unexpected, you probably need time to think about it and…"
"I agree," she agreed unexpectedly easily. Before Mark could be happy, she clicked her tongue, adding: "As a dominatrix and nothing else."
In the first seconds Mark was confused and decided that he had misheard. However the grin that spread rapidly across Elizabeth's face told him that it wasn't: she took another drag on her cigarette, leaned forward and blew smoke into his face, making him cough.
"Can you imagine what an invaluable experience you will get? Not just an observer, but a direct participant. Also in such an unusual and piquant role. Readers will be delighted with such article, and I bet your ratings will skyrocket," seeing the indecision on her friend's face, Elizabeth relaxed back into her chair and finally sipped sangria, looking out the window. A half-smoked cigarette was smoking weakly, thrown in an ashtray. "That's my last word, period. Either that, or look for someone else."
Mark reasoned that he had no one else to ask for such a request, and after a pause, tormented by doubts, he nodded in agreement.
In the end they would just play roles while he will be simply collecting material at another party.
On the appointed day Mark stood at the door of Elizabeth's apartment, who after winking goodbye at the coffee shop promised to get the right props, and nervously shifted from one foot to the other. His stomach have been aching, as it always did during when something forced and unpleasant, but extremely necessary loomed in the near future.
Elizabeth opened the door, wearing a housecoat and a towel wrapped around her head - and laughed at Mark, who reflexively tactfully looked away, as if there had been no joint student sleepovers on the same narrow bed. She waved her hand invitingly, letting her into the apartment, and disappeared into the bathroom, from where the hum of the hair dryer immediately came.
"Where did you get this?" Mark asked with superstitious horror when Elizabeth, having finished packing, laid out shiny black shorts and a latex-creaking top in front of him.
"I borrowed it from a friend, no problem," Elizabeth shrugged indifferently, as if it were something mundane. Mark didn't know whether he wanted to clarify who this friend was and where he was working, if he could easily be borrowed from something like this."Come on, put it on soon, we still have to get there," she glanced worriedly at her watch and then at Mark in disbelief. "Why are you frozen?"
"I don't think that's a good idea..." he began to mumble, and Elizabeth cut him off with a hiss:
"It's good, it's just amazing idea! Everything should be reliable, don't you agree? So don't pull the cat by the tail and get dressed," a grin slid across Elizabeth's lips as a bottle of oil flew into Mark's hands. "This is to make it easier."
Mark would prefer to forget the next minutes spent painfully trying to put on a latex suit., while smeared with oil from head to toe, having a tense cramp in the shin area and at first barely able to move, as his body was so tightly compressed by latex.
Elizabeth was delighted at the sight of him shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other and reflexively hugging himself by the shoulders in an attempt to cover himself. She clapped her hands and froze for a second with an expression of surprise on her face , as if she did not expect such a reaction. Then woman handed Mark a long dark cloak and forced him to throw it over his body After that, grabbing a bulky black sports bag, they left the apartment and went down to the parking lot. Elizabeth got behind the wheel, Mark naturally sat next to her and exhaled, expecting them to drive now. But instead Elizabeth unzipped her bag and took out leather shackles with a short chain connecting them.
"Put them on your feet," she nodded, throwing the shackles onto Mark's lap. In response to the grimace that appeared on his face she waved her hands: "Come on, come on, they don't bite."
After a moment's hesitation, Mark reluctantly bent down carefully so as not to bump his forehead against the dashboard, and obediently fastened the shackles around his ankles. Leather wrapped around them softly and tightly, and the chain stretched taut as he spread his legs, noticeably limiting mobility. Elizabeth then bent over and deftly fastened the handcuffs on his hands, and in response to the outraged exclamation just innocently shrugged her shoulders. Mark twitched his hands—real metal handcuffs, not fake ones, and the feeling of complete stiffness and helplessness made the hairs all over his body stand on end.
"In my opinion you got too deep into the role, and all this is completely unnecessary," frowning in annoyance and continuing to uselessly twitch his hands in irritation at his own immobility, Mark began to chatter, but did not have time to finish: Elizabeth, assuring in an unctuous tone that only the finishing touch remained and everything would be fine, put a gag to his lips and confidently pushed it into his mouth. Then quickly fastened the straps at the back of his head.
Mark at first was stunned by such a turn and frozen, but then frantically shook his head, as if this could help to spit out the gag, and loudly protested. And immediately coughed in a muted voice, choking on unaccustomed saliva. Elizabeth, smiling charmingly, patted his cheek encouragingly and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot. For the first time in his life Mark felt a sincere desire to snap and bite: if not for the gag, he would have done it.
However, Mark was completely helpless right now, and he had no choice but to lean back in his chair and take a deep breath, trying to calm his rapidly pounding heart. The state of vulnerability was frightening, taking away the feeling of endless control over the situation, However at the same time it spread a warm and relaxing feeling of incipient arousal through every muscle, which baffled Mark. He had never thought about trying something like this before, and from the very beginning he was sure that submission would not be to his taste, but suddenly he discovered a pleasant and sweet excitement under the fright and indignation.
Part of the trip was quiet — Elizabeth only kept glancing at Mark out of the corner of her eye, chewing her lip thoughtfully, which added goosebumps to his skin, causing him to fidget restlessly in his chair. And then, exhaling noisily, she reached out and, without taking her eyes off the road, ran her hand up Mark's leg, from knee to hip. Closing his eyes, he hummed, not knowing what he was trying to express — protest or pleasure. A satisfied smile slid across Elizabeth's lips, and she repeated the stroke —more insistently and holding her palm on Mark's thigh, as close to his groin as possible. The car's air conditioner was on, but Mark could feel every inch of his skin on fire. Closing his eyes, he thumped the back of his head against the armrest of the seat and moaned uncontrollably when Elizabeth's palm, lingering on her hip, moved further, covering his crotch and persistently teasing him with strokes and pressure.
Inability to resist at that moment became a blessing: shame demanded that he push away the caressing hand, and the stiffness in his arms and legs allowed him to give way to pleasure. And making such excused, Mark gave himself up to a sweet tremor that rapidly spread from his groin to his legs, which were filling with treacherous weakness and excitedly squeezing something in his lower abdomen.
"Here we are," Elizabeth abruptly removed her hand, slowing down near the clubhouse, and in the resulting touchless void, Mark felt a pang of acute disappointment, which surprised himself. Glancing at Elizabeth, he saw that she was frowning out the window, and then, telling him to wait, jumped out of the car.
Mark watched her go with the greedy and at the same time doomed gaze of a dog forced to wait faithfully. After lingering at the club's doors and carefully examining something on them, Elizabeth returned to the car, still frowning, and slammed the door loudly, betraying an extreme degree of dissatisfaction.
"They're closed today. It says that an email was sent with a warning and an apology," Elizabeth closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and muttered that she had to learn not to forget to check the spam folder. Mark, with his eyes wide open, mumbled and straightened up, hinting that he should be stripped of his thematic strays, since the evening event was canceled. He already felt relief because of that. So when Elizabeth's gaze slid up and down on him, and her lips twitched again, stretching into a meaningful grin, he felt uneasy.
"It's okay. Let's take this as a chance to practice. We don't want to lose face on day X, do we?" With a wink she turned the car in the opposite direction, resolutely pressing the accelerator pedal and heading towards her house on the verge of crossing the maximum speed limit.
On the way back Elizabeth never touched Mark, did not even squint at him, and he did not understand his own feelings about this: on the one hand, it allowed him to regain control of himself and not go crazy from unexpectedly responsive body reactions, but on the other hand, a suffocating lump rose in his throat: resentment. Because the little thing that happened was enough to replay the path to the club in a circle in his head and get goosebumps all over again, tormented by the mirage of Elizabeth's touch.
When they went up to her apartment (Mark was immensely grateful to the architects for the elevator and prayed every floor they passed that no one would join them because Elizabeth hadn't bothered to remove his shackles and handcuffs), it was flooded with the bright orange light of sunset, and the panoramic windows allowed them to fully enjoy the view of sun as it drifted onto multi-storey buildings.
"On your knees," Elizabeth breathed softly, touching Mark's ear with wet lips, and put her hands on his shoulders, gently and at the same time insistently pressing. Eyes wide, Mark swallowed and obediently collapsed to his knees. His heart was pounding like crazy, creating the illusion that it could punch a hole in his ribs any minute.
Smiling contentedly, Elizabeth patted him on the head and walked away, rustling the bag she had taken from the car again. Mark bit his lips restlessly, his eyes fixed on the woodwork of the parquet floor, and listened intently to what was happening behind his back in an attempt to figure out what Elizabeth was going to do.
The sound of her soft, barely discernible footsteps sent a chill down his spine. Elizabeth sank to the floor behind him, pressed her breasts against Mark's back... Concentrating on the hot sensation of someone else's body, he did not even notice how the handcuffs were undone. He woke up only at the moment when something dense, warm and soft slid over his arms, which were pulled back, and his hands tightened, locking him, and Mark jerked, discovering that he was bound from the tips of his fingers to his shoulders.
"Don't worry, it's just an armbinder. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I'm sure its creator was inspired by straitjackets," Elizabeth said in the same velvety and mesmerizing tone, and even without seeing her face Mark realized that she was smiling. Pressure was put on his shoulders again: Elizabeth forced Mark to bend over, pressing her cheek to the floor, and, smoothly stroking his buttocks, slapped him. Strike wasn't too strong but his body reacted instantly, not expecting it, and a gagged mumble escaped Mark's lips. The hot feeling of shame that flared in his chest made him want to squeeze his eyes shut and shrink to molecular size. And his limited mobility, which did not allow him to dodge or, at the very least, cover himself, only made him more aroused at the same time.
Subconsciously Mark was convinced that Elizabeth would not harm him, and therefore openness to her and submission to her desire involuntarily awakened fantasy, making him melt from each new image that appeared in his head. "You know, this role looks damn good on you." I didn't even think it would turn out that way," Elizabeth's intonations turned on and melted by themselves. In fact, Mark, who had closed his eyes, immediately realized his mistake: in the dark the sensations only became sharper, and soon the shorts began to press on the crotch, which Elizabeth stroked before repeating the slap. Reflexively trying to jerk his arms, Mark began to mumble again, because it was simply impossible to remain silent from an overabundance of feelings.
"And I also never thought that we would ever find ourselves in such an erotic situation," Elizabeth laughed, while her hands smoothly slid over Mark's hips, reaching for the zipper on his shorts and unbuttoning it. "I've liked you for a long time. I hoped that it would pass after university, especially since work in different places and meetings are rare.… But nothing like that worked, to be honest".
There was no underwear between Mark's body and the shorts, so Elizabeth's palm immediately rested on the excitedly hardened penis, releasing it and teasing it with unhurried movements up and down and in a circular motion over the head. The tight knot in his stomach tightened even though it felt like it couldn't go any further. And at the same moment Elizabeth proved what could happen next: in her second hand a small pyramid-shaped device appeared, emitting a soft hum. As soon as it went from the base to tip of the penis, an admiring sob vibrated in Mark's chest: such one happens when pleasure unbearably strongly pierces the body and it seems that there is no way to take it out. Awkwardly trying to stand on his stubbornly spreading knees—the joints seemed to have turned into useless jelly layers—Mark moved his hips towards the hand, and Elizabeth's laughter cut through the languid thick atmosphere around him. "You enjoy it, Mark. That's lovely."
Vibrator circled the crotch for a few more sweet moments, teasing both directly by touching the penis, and indirectly by touching the delicate skin in the very bottom of the abdomen. Then the hands disappeared, but before Mark had time to feel disappointment at the emptiness that had formed or to mumble indignantly, this time demanding to continue rather than protesting, he was turned onto his back and sat down, leaning against the wall.
Bowing her head so that her loose hair streamed over her shoulder like molten metal, Elizabeth studied Mark's face for several seconds, who from intense excitement had no strength to portray any other emotions except infernal lust. Then Elizabeth reached out and removed the gag. His jaw had already contracted, and Mark was sincerely grateful for this. Realizing that saliva was flowing uncontrollably from the corners of his mouth, blood rushed to his cheeks. Elizabeth, smiling relaxed, leaned forward and licked it off with the tip of her tongue. Mark gasped for air and choked on the tart woody smell emanating from Elizabeth's skin and hair; previously he paid no attention to it, taking it for granted as something inseparable from Elizabeth, but now it suddenly turned out to do a vivid impression. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Mark and, grinning, moved to his lips with a kiss. Then threw her leg over him, sitting on her hips and pressing her crotch against his penis. Even through the underwear, which Elizabeth had not taken off, only lifting her short skirt for convenience, it felt incredibly hot and wet.
"If you ask me nicely enough..." her fingers dug into Mark's hair at the back of his neck, and her nails scratched playfully, "... then I'll take you inside. Do you want to?" Smiling smugly, Elizabeth purred into his slightly open, childishly admiring mouth. Mark's breath caught in his throat, and he tilted his head back, nodding convulsively, sensitively catching every word with his lips. "Ask for it,"Elizabeth said, clicking her tongue. "Don't forget to choose the right words."
"P-please, mistress, accept me in..." voice did not obey him, and Mark pleadingly whispered sweetly. Elizabeth blissfully closed her eyes, listening to every word, and slowly stood up, pushing the underwear aside and gently grasping the penis to smoothly impale herself. Vagina which was slippery with lubrication willingly accepted the penis. B she and Mark they moaned gutturally in unison, and froze for a second, getting used to newensations. Elizabeth's fingers tightened on the back of his neck. Biting her lip, she slowly rose and fell, gasping at how tight and good his cock felt inside.
At first every movement was measured. Ane point Mark uncontrollably began to try to move his hips towards her, speeding up the rhythm, and Elizabeth caught him by the chin with lightning speed, rewarding him with a hard biting kiss. Mark squeezed his eyes shut, even tears appeared. Without taking her mouth off his Elizabeth resumed her movement, gripped Mark's sides tightly with her knees, and then with her other hand she hastily pulled the zipper on her top, exposing her breasts and at the same time interrupting the kiss. Breathing heavily, she imperiously put her palm on the back of Mark's head and pulled him to her chest. Mark did not resist for a single second and, easily guessing the unspoken instruction, absorbed nipple into his mouth, sucking it and blinking excitedly every time Elizabeth moaned. She clutched his hair in her fist and froze, convulsively contracting the elastic walls of her vagina around the penis. It was getting hotter, even though it seemed that it was simply impossible to get anymore hotter. Elizabeth's voice shot up when Mark clamped her nipple between his teeth, and then she caught his lips again in a kiss, pulling his hair and forcing him to tilt his head back. Tongues clashed with a squelch, which both noticed literally briefly as another exciting thing, rubbing off and leading over each other's lips and teeth.
Everything was cramped, sweaty, hot, wet, tense. With each subsequent moment the realization of what was happening became more and more vague, and Mark clung to Elizabeth, awkwardly trying to push against her hips. She frantically grabbed him, uncontrollably scratching his shoulders, and Mark did not mind it at all. Muscles of both their legs were cramped with tension, their chests were clenched with loud, sharp moans, escaping in parallel with convulsions close to agony, piercing the whole body and itchily accumulating in the groin. With her head low Elizabeth enthusiastically spat out curses through her teeth, moving quickly on his dick. And cursing every time the orgasm came very close and then cowardly rolled away - because Mark, tired of waiting and immobility, lost his rhythm, or her shin cramped, forcing her to slow down. Swallowing, Elizabeth pressed her cheek against Mark's temple, biting her lips completely in another go. Both were sweating profusely, and every inch of their bodies pressed close together looked like bare wires, when even the slapping sounds of thighs against each other turned into an approaching stimulus.
Everything ended in one elusive second with an orgasm. With a thin and almost frightened cry, Elizabeth froze, slammed her fist against the wall and then sank back down heavily, burying her forehead into Mark's shoulder and shuddering all over. He was also staring dumbfounded at the ceiling and trying to figure out whether he was breathing or had caught his breath, feeling every muscle in his body permeated by a small tremor.
"It's been a long time since I've fucked so amazingly," Elizabeth confessed with a hoarse laugh, without taking her head off Darkness' shoulder. He smiled faintly and nodded in agreement.
"I think I've always liked you, too. I just never allowed myself to think about it because you always seemed too gorgeous for me," Mark admitted after a thoughtful pause and smiled absently. "Maybe now we can start dating? he asked, and after receiving no response he fidgeted worriedly in an attempt to turn his head and look at Elizabeth.
A gentle smile spread across her lips: she was limp and dozing peacefully. Allowing himself to admire Elizabeth's peaceful face for a few seconds, Mark rested the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes, deciding that he could also take a nap. After all, he, still immobilized, had no other way out, and he definitely did not want to wake Elizabeth.