Be My Angel

"Go down on me, bitch. Lick my clit until I come against your mouth."

She bent down: put her tongue on Bev's hot bud and her nose into the damp overwhelming scent of Bev's cunt. Whatever guilt-ridden doubts she may have had about this before, as she lapped away she was quite certain Bev was not doing any of it purely to humour her.

*****

"I'm sure you're right, but that isn't what's happened here."

"But it's a rule."

Bev realised Amy was looking expectantly at her, as if she expected support. Her mind had drifted; everyone else was talking about funding and she was indulging in perverted dominance fantasies. Not fantasies, exactly, after all they had actually happened. And yet she still found that difficult to accept. It was as if it had all been done by someone else while she watched helpless from the sidelines.

"Bev?"

Amy's face was almost pleading across the table. Didn't suit Amy, didn't do one tiny thing for Bev. That look on Anna now ...

Focus here, Bev!

"Yeah, well ..."

She honestly couldn't be bothered to pretend about it today. This is a pointless waste of time, Daniel, why don't we just own up to that? My acquisitions budget, and everyone else's, has been top-sliced to fund a new collection on the cheap. It's not your fault, and there's nothing you can do about it: so why don't you just send us all the email and not waste two hours listening to everyone whinging their way through complaints that no one outside this room will give a stuff about?

"... seems to me it's a bit late to complain about who pitched the tent and how it isn't fair that it's raining. All we can do is grab as much gear as we can and try not to drown."

Daniel smiled, he'd always appreciated her taste in colourful analogies. Amy looked hurt and betrayed. Well tough, eventually the time had to come when she realised the same rules did apply to her after all; it might as well be now. Bev had very definitely had enough office politics for one day, she just wanted to go home and be with Anna.

Nicely. Gently. The way it used to be.

Why in God's name had she ever stopped smoking?

"Are we done?"

"Somewhere you'd rather be, Bev?"

Are you bloody serious? Is there anywhere you wouldn't rather be?

Bev grumped down the hill with perfect timing to meet Anna at the foot of the steps. She slung Anna's bag on her shoulder and took the freed hand in hers without breaking stride.

"Fun day?"

"Bloody awful."

"Let you spank me later, if you want to work out some of that aggression."

"Don't ever ..."

She realised she had snapped at Anna. She shrugged her shoulders and gave Anna's hand a squeeze.

"... Sorry. Please don't say that. Please don't ever think it. I would never, never do that in anger."

"It's alright love, it was just a joke. We are going to do it again, aren't we?"

"I don't know ..."

She really didn't. She couldn't pretend to herself that it wasn't rather fun at the time. She wasn't quite as into it as Anna obviously was, but it was pretty hot in a weird naughty sort of way. At least until the realisation hit her, and she understood she was doing what most disgusted her, whether from men or women. Anna as sex object; Anna as her plaything; Anna as a cunt. It was a buzz and it was so intense; it made her despise herself. She hadn't even apologised for spoiling the meal last night, although she knew how much cooking for them always meant to Anna.

But what she had said earlier was still true. There's no point in 'should be' and 'could have been'; there's only dealing with what is in the best way you can. That's what being an adult is about; it's all part of the putting aside childish things business.

"... if you really want to."

"Doesn't work like that, love. I don't mind it turning you on as well; I want you to enjoy it too."

Well of course I shouldn't enjoy it, my lover. Because you are my lover, and I should treat you every single moment of our too-short lives with the respect I feel for you. Anything else is unacceptable. Except that her mind moved on, past the strange compulsive games to later, when they were in bed and everything was as good as it had ever been. Except, if she was entirely honest, it was better than it had ever been. Anna had been more relaxed, and so in a way had she. The ecstatic losing of each one in the other's arms was more total now than it used to be. Perhaps that was just the way of things: first passion gives way to something deeper; desperate fumblings give way to knowing exactly what works for your lover; sex simply becomes better and deeper as time passes. Does it? Perhaps it should, but it doesn't seem to work that way for everyone, does it now?

"Maybe. Can't promise."

"I wouldn't want you to. Just feel free to do it when you want."

"Do you ever want to try it the other way ..."

"Not right now. One day perhaps. Want me to?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't know. This whole thing is just doing my head in."

They reached the car. Bev took the driver's side, like so many other things that was simply a habit. The way things were.

"You know, you are good at it."

"Think so? That something I should be proud of?"

Anna stroked her arm and kissed her cheek.

"You give me something I need, and I'm very grateful for that. You're good enough for me. Is that so bad? Let's go home ..."

Anna shot a 'oh do grow up' look at a couple of boys at the bus stop who had noticed the kiss.

"... Got a question for you, if we are going to make a habit of this. What do you think of 'Your Ladyship'?"

"For what?"

"I've got to call you something, and I can't call you 'Bev'. Just leaving it hanging there is driving me spare. I can't be doing with 'Mistress', even if you could, which I seriously doubt."

Silence as Bev kept her eyes on the road. Anna was right: anything rather than 'Mistress'. That was too much, simply too crass and predictable. Before they knew it they would be in fishnets and thigh boots and those bloody caps that made you look like a Nazi or one of the Village People. Not fucking likely. She could not imagine herself in thigh boots. She didn't want to imagine Anna in fishnets. She really didn't. Did she?

Oh for fuck's sake, Beverley! Get a grip.

"How do you fancy 'My Lady'?"

"Really?"

"Try it. If you want ... It's up to you."

"Ask you another question, love?"

"Any time."

Anna had the sense to let Bev slow for the lights before she continued.

"Have you been coveting my bum?"

Bev coughed and thanked their lucky stars they weren't moving.

"What?"

"You seem to have developed a bit of an obsession with my arse. Do you want it?"

"I ... err ..."

"Can if you want. You do know that, don't you?"

"Can we please talk about this some other time."

"Of course, My Lady. Whatever you say."

*****

"Kiss my feet."

Anna crawled to her Lady's feet and bent her head to kiss each toe. She dipped far more than her head, lowering her shoulders and spreading her arms to the side until her breasts pushed into the carpet underneath her. She knew how much she was emphasising her backside when she did that; knew that as she worshipped submissively at those feet her Lady would be looking down at the back of her red lace g-string diving between her buttocks; knew exactly what that view would make her Lady want to do to her later.

Fingers snapped above her. She straightened her back and tried to meet her Lady's eyes. She felt them staring straight into her shame and humiliation before they left her face and ran selfishly down her body. Her Lady's eyes staring possessively at her engorged nipples; her Lady's gaze over her belly and down to that filmy red triangle stretched like a target advertising the cunt she wanted her Lady to use and possess. She saw her Lady's hands lift the dog collar they had bought that morning ...

Enough now. This was too good, too precious, to ever be done under false pretences.

"Almanac!"

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Bev slid off the end of the bed, bringing herself to her knees facing Anna. Anna felt gentle arms enfolding her.

"Nothing's wrong, we just need to talk about something."

"Do you want to get dressed?"

"Might be best. Can I have my gown please?"

Anna wrapped the dressing gown round herself, and they sat next to each other on the bed. Bev looked devastated. Anna gave her knee a stroke and smiled as reassuringly as she could.

"It's OK, honest it is. You haven't done anything wrong. When was the last time you dommed me here in the bedroom?"

"Erm ... Actually only ever really done it the once. First time ever, I guess."

"And how many in the living room?"

"Three. I think ..."

Anna couldn't help a sheepish grin. Getting to be enough of a habit that they would soon lose count. Who would ever have thought that? Of course there had been the odd little game in bed recently, but not quite the same as this.

"Hmm ... Can you tell me why?"

"Not really, just seemed like ... What's going on?"

"Just needed to be sure. Sorry, love, I've sort of set you up tonight."

Anna nodded to the bronze statuette on the dressing table.

"I thought we took that downstairs?"

"We did. The day after the first time."

"Sweetheart, please tell me I'm being really dim here; because I've got a sick feeling the most rational person I've ever known is going all spooky and New Age on me."

"Have you got a better idea? ..."

Bev put on her glasses, as if they might make the whole thing easier to grasp.

"... Look, love, I know it doesn't make any sense; but does it really make any more sense that you've just turned kinky at your age without any warning? That only ever happens in bad porn stories, and in them it only ever happens to subs."

"And how do you know so much about bad porn stories?"

"Because I'm not you, my strong moral feminist paragon. Seriously, can you see anything that's less ridiculous but still explains why it's all gone pervy since we bought that thing?"

"It is ridiculous."

"Of course it is. What's that Sherlock Holmes thing about eliminating every impossible explanation?"

"I'm pretty sure this is one of the impossible ones. Anyway, it's not all the time ..."

"I haven't worked it out, but I think it's something to do with hormones and menstrual cycles. When you're -- when either of us is fertile -- we get a bit ..."

"A bit?"

"A bit naughty."

Bev went to the dressing table and picked up the statue.

"Don't hurt it!"

"I'm not. I'm only going to put it somewhere safe. In the garage, maybe, just for now."

By the time Bev returned, Anna had hung up her gown and snuggled down under the duvet. Bev sat on the edge of the bed to take off her glasses.

"'Don't hurt it'?"

"It's not canny, is it? How do we know it hasn't got feelings as well?"

"We can't keep it in the house. Not all the time."

"Some of the time?"

"Dunno. Look, it's been fun, but ..."

"Want to stop?"

"I want us to be us again. I don't want to have sex with you because something else tells us to. That's just wrong."

Anna had to agree. That, after all, was why she hadn't waited until later. Shame, though ... Things had just been getting interesting.

"Come to bed? I could really do with a cuddle."

"Yeah, me too."

*****

Bev woke to Sunday-morning birdsong and the feeling of Anna cradled against her. She lay silent for a long time, ignoring the cramp and watching the perfect face at her side, until the eyelids fluttered of their own accord.

"Good morning, sunshine."

"Mmmmmm."

"You alright?"

"Yeah ... I ... Last night ..."

"Wasn't a dream, unless we're still having it."

"Bloody hell!"

"Quite. All back to ourselves now?"

"Think so ..."

Bev thought so too. She felt like herself again, she didn't have that disorienting sense of watching from the outside. She knew, with enough confidence for her own peace of mind, that her feelings were her own. She took Anna's face gently in her palm and kissed her mouth, soft and long.

"And good morning to you too, love."

"Turn over."

"Why?"

"I don't want to see your face. Do what I tell you to."

She saw exactly the same look on Anna as those other times: downcast eyes and parted lips; felt the reaction to it surge through her chest and throb downwards. Oh God, the things you have to say to play the game: as if she would ever not want to see that face.

Anna turned over. She put her hands behind her head and lifted her hair up from the back of her neck. Bev reached for the collar they had abandoned on the bedside cabinet; she found herself wondering at the perfect flawless beauty of Anna's shoulders displayed this way in the glow of the early morning as she looped the collar round Anna's neck. Her hand ran along the length of Anna's spine; she hooked two fingers under the cloth to roughly pull down the red g-string that Anna had worn all night. She heard the voice of the person she loved most in the world, faint and fragile against her pillow

"Please, my Lady. Please don't hurt me. Please don't ..."

Not once in their time together had Bev felt more protective of Anna than she did at this precise moment. As resistance parted reluctantly to her rough hand and she felt Anna's explosive groan thrill through her, she realised that she never would hurt Anna in any way that mattered.