Safe Space

"What's on your mind?"

"I just have trouble shutting off, that's all." I said. "You know what it's like. I'm thinking about the work I have to do, I have to double check the appointment for Wednesday and book the train. I was thinking that I'm so happy now and I don't want it to end and about how you smell. You know that the kitchen is still a mess, I should probably get to it at some point." My words came thick and fast, once I'd begun to realise everything I had to do the dream was broken again, real life seeping under the doorway.

"Not tonight." Sven said. "Tonight is just this." He gestured between us, his fingers flickering. "I believe I'm about 98 short of your suggested goal, anyway. I think that should be top of the list."

"Don't you know that you're always top of my to-do list?" I poked Sven in the stomach, kissed him, my hand sinking flat against his belly, then lower pulling moans from him.

"I am?" He said, "Tell me more, I like it when you say that stuff."

"Dirty talk?"

"Yes, please." Sven settled into the sheets like he was going to get a bed time story, arching his back and stretching out. "I want you to shame me."

I shook my head, frowned at him. My chest was tight and, for once, words failed me. "I don't think you should be ashamed of the things you want." I said. "I think you should check them, of course. I always say that but I just feel I need to make the crystal clear before I begin."

"Of course."

I kissed him, settled myself again, my hand working around his hardening member, my fingers sinking backward to finger him. "Well, to begin with," I said, "You've failed, haven't you? On a couple of counts; firstly, it's 99 more to go and secondly, you should have been paying more attention, shouldn't you?"

Sven nodded, his pupils dilating dark and wide, gulping me down. "I'm sorry." He breathed, his voice getting rough around the edges. "I'll do better next time, I promise."

"Will you?" I asked, "How can I be so sure of that when your dick is hard? Surely, you know, just as I do, that you'll promise me anything now?"

"I will." He said giggling, that same high pitched noise as before. "Anything."

"You getting coy now?" I grabbed his jaw, pulled his face out of the pillow where it had been half buried. "Maybe I should get you better acquainted with counting, huh? 100 times over so that you're exactly sure what that feels like?"

"Orgasms?"

I laughed, stroked Sven's cheek. "On the one hand that's an absurdly hot fantasy isn't it? On the other, I wonder how far I could actually get with that until you begged me to stop? Until you got all desperate and pleading on me?"

"I don't know." He said. His tone suggested he wouldn't mind finding out.

"Neither do I." I purred leaning forward to lick the first clear beads that came from him. "Maybe 100 strokes with my lubed up hand so I could fuck up your orgasms like you fucked up counting, huh?"

I was moving slower now, my fingers toying with the fine veins that had begun to show themselves, my nails glancing over the tip. Sven was breathing harder, his lips parted, desperate for mine, like we had been separated for years not a month and he was still not satiated. I wasn't.

"How many do you think I've done now?" I asked. "What do you think?"

"I...don't know." He said. "I wasn't counting."

"You've not paying enough attention." I hardened my voice, watched him soften under it, like melting snow in the sun, his submission washing me of guilt. "I think you need to focus. Get me the longer rope," I said, "then kneel in front of the mirror."

I watched Sven sit up, rub his eyes, trying to swim up through subspace, shake himself, rising from sleep.

"Oh," my eyes twinkled at him as I followed him off the bed, grabbed a dildo. It was short but thick, definitely the tool for the job. I pulled it out of the toybag, waved it at Sven so it bounced comically. "Wouldn't this be fun?"

"Uh-"

"Oh, yes." My voice dripped with excitement, glinted with the threat of my own desire. "I know you love this, don't you?"

"It's pretty...fun." He said. "Yeah." A curt nod followed, Sven's eyes flickered to the mirror then back to me. "The rope, Ma'am."

"Thank you, baby." I kissed him, stroked his cheek watched as his blue eyes seemed to deepen with desire. "You're getting subby on me, sweetheart." I laughed, watching him pull his hands into himself. Gone was the greedy passion, his pawing fingers no longer grabbed at me but rested demurely by his sides. This time, Sven was not grabbing me by the handful but expectant, waiting. I could see every thought in the way he looked at me, his shoulders curled forward in questioning. "You're so cute when you get like this. Kneel." I pulled him forward, stroked his cheek as he lay against me, My hand trailed downward, jerking him again, drawing more moans, soft sighs that drove the insects in my chest crazy. I kissed his neck, settling myself behind him. "I'd like you to be a little perkier. You have work to do."

"Do I?" He smiled.

"Pass the lube." I said. "You know where this is going."

"Babe," for a moment he slipped, his eyes closing languidly, flashing open again as he knelt. "Go slow. You know...it's been a while since we did any of that." He gestured to the dildo.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow at him, mocking. "What stuff? Not embarrassed, are you?" I grinned. "Tell me. What stuff would you be talking about?"

"You know," His voice dropped like the whole world would hear him if he said it out loud. "Butt stuff."

"All fours." I said.

Obeying, Sven knelt in front of me, his palms pressed into the thin carpet. Between us, I began working the lube around his entrance, a single finger sliding in. I found myself smiling as the moans he let out hit me like sunlight, like my very favourite song. I added another finger, reached forward with my free hand to wank him again.

"Look at yourself." I said, kneeling behind him. I straightened my back, pushed my fingers into him further. In the mirror on the back of the door, I could see that his eyes were shut, defeating the very point of the excercise. "Open your eyes." I said, "That's it. Really, look at yourself fuck my fingers. Watch yourself get fucked."

Sven caught my gaze in the mirror, his eyes flickering between his own hardening member and my face then, back again.

"Look how much you like that." I teased. "Look how hard you're getting."

I flicked his erection with my free hand, sharply with the edge of my nail, watched it spring about comically.

"So good." He breathed. "Oh...I-"

"What?" I said. "You seem lost for words, sweetie? You're usually so chatty and opinionated about these things. Why don't you move forward? I'll move this-" I pulled the rug away, bare wood again. "Layer by layer," I stuck the dildo to the floor, began lubing it up. "I want to get inside that pretty head of yours. Tap into that slutty little sub part of you."

I pulled my fingers out of him, wiped them on a towel that I'd fished out of the laundry basket. I ordered him to move, watched as he sank onto the thick toy, reaching backwards, settling onto it with a long, delectable groan. A low noise, that simmered up from his gut, feral.

"Hands behind your back." My mouth was pressed against his ear, my fingers jerking his head backward just hard enough for me to be sure he was paying attention. "Widen your thighs so you really get that cock up inside you. I want you to work," I breathed, "I want you to be filled. You don't have to do anything but be a functioning body. You look pretty and get fucked, that's all you have to do, sweet boy. You are a vessel for pleasure, nothing else. You're a yielding mouth and a dripping dick and a tight ass that's desperate to be fucked. You're here to entertain me."

Sven was trying to move again, twisting as my hands raked across his chest. I skated downwards, used my nails when I ran my hands back up, digging in hard enough that he winced and sighed at me, the noises rising higher the more I scratched and prodded at him. I plucked up the rope, began looping it in soft coils around his wrists, gently, securing his thick wrists to his ankles.

"You have such delicate hands." I said. "For your height and your past, for all the time you spent with the earth you have such delicate hands. It's such a nice contradiction. So delicate, such neat nails." I watched him look away from my reflection. "They betray you." I whispered, smirking. "Your own hands betray you and you don't know what to do. They're the hands of someone who is quite happy to sit in an office and avoid the grunt work, aren't they? You like the life you have built for yourself in another way, a way that doesn't get your hands dirty." I pushed my fingers into his hair again, pulled him back against my shoulder. "With a jawline like that I'm sure they could forgive you." I kissed him, my teeth pressing just a little too hard again.

"Ma'am, please..." He sighed, "You're picking the things-"

"The things I know you feel most strongly about." I finished, "I know. But together we have enough strength, enough trust for you to fall, for you to take what you need and let yourself feel all of those things which you are so ashamed of. You're safe, my love, safe enough to feel all those fucked up things you can't quite deal with."

Another whine came from him, keening, louder. "I missed you." He breathed, "I missed, you, I missed you I missed you."

My mouth met his, to silence him, to reassure him that everything would be okay and he could take comfort from my pain, forget himself in it. I was knelt behind him, my other hand rubbing his chest, protective, I moved lower, touching him, edging him with pleasure so that he moaned, thankful into my mouth.

"I know you feel like you're not good enough." I said. "You are, you're better than you realise. You're good and kind, sweet boy. You're the most functional, pleasing lover I've ever had and so good, too."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"But you're a whore." I laughed, "Such a slut. Imagine if people knew that behind your good respectability you were such a dirty boy. That I can have you quite literally whipped whenever I feel like it."

"I'm a bit proud of that." He smirked, his teeth sinking into his lip. I slapped his thigh as he spoke, nibbled at his lip.

"You see." I said. "You're a cocky little whore, aren't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He groaned.

"You're anyone's whore when you've got a cock up your arse, aren't you?"

"Only yours." He laughed, "Oh, fuck, only yours."

"I love you." I sighed, kissing him hard, pulling again at his nipples. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Ma'am."

"Good boy." I whispered, rubbed his belly, my hand freed from his hair. Sven was trying awkwardly to lean backward, against me without using all of his weight. He was easily 20lbs heavier than me and so, had settled on a skewed position that made his thighs quiver, the vibrations shivering straight between his thighs. "At least you're good for something, aren't you?" I purred the line, pushed him further, knew that it was an arrow that would hit its mark.

"Yes, Ma'am." He said. "I am. I'm good for you."

My hand was working hard, the pace quickening as he ground awkwardly into my palm. The movements were small, hampered by the ropes and the dildo in his ass, our cheeks pressed together, my hand settled on his neck.

"You're getting tense." I mocked. "Harder?"

He nodded and I picked up the pace, working his body towards the inevitable. I could feel him fucking the toy, squeezing his butt cheeks around it, his thighs moving, betraying him.

"Please, please, please." Sven was breathing the words against my cheek again, begging. "Ma'am, can I?"

I stopped, watched him watch his own panic in the mirror. "Ask again."

"Mimi, may I?" He repeated, meeting my palm, my curled fingers gripping hard again. "I'm getting close."

"I know." I said, "I can feel you fucking the dildo."

"Hmm, please-" Sven didn't even try to hide his desperation this time.

"I like those noises." I said. My hand flew up from his cock, twisted at his nipple hard enough that he yelped again. "Those especially. Back with you, let's get this done."

"Thank you, baby."

"You want it harder?" I breathed, my body pushed against his. I ran one nail over the tip, focused on his shuddering reflection.

"Yeah, so good..." He mewled.

"Watch yourself." I demanded, pushing his head forward, urging him to examine his own face in the mirror. "Watch how much you like it. Watch that whore mouth tell me that you like being useful. Say it." I squeezed the back of his neck, my words rougher, the ache between my thighs growing as he complied. Every nerve ached, burned for him. His submission was so beautiful to me, his shame belying the trust beneath. He had given me everything and I longed for more.

"I like being useful, Ma'am."

He was breathing hard, trying to bend away from the ropes and failing, his body jerking up as the first throes of orgasm wracked through him, his eyes transfixed on mine, reflected, watching. He came hard, leaking into my hand, breathing hard against my neck, curling inwards as his body fell limp, his thighs twitching.

"Such a mess." I sighed, wiping my hand over his cheek, watching him flinch and groan. "What a messy boy. Lick my fingers."

I held out my had, watched him lap the remaines of himself from them, pushing against me, unable to hold me close. He had reverted to mewling again, language lost in the fog of subspace, for the meaning imbued in gesture.

"Stay there." I stood, headed to the bathroom to wash my own hands. I leant in the doorway, watched Sven try to regulate his breathing, his hands opening and closing like desperate flowers. "So pretty."

I walked past, ruffled his hair as I opened the door again, the reflection vanished. I stepped around him, untied the ropes, his shoulders rolling as they were freed, reanimating again. "Jesus, Mimi." He said, his voice cracked a little, "Come here, please, Ma'am, kiss me."

"You'll wait." I said, "I don't want you getting needy on me again."

I pushed him forward, began working the dildo out of him. I slid it in a couple of times, back and forth. It was enough to make him drip.

"Please." He wailed. The sound that came from him just about broke my heart.

"Oh, sweet boy," I said, "Too much?"

I pulled it out, wiped the toy and set it aside. "Take it easy, sweets. I know I touched a nerve."

"Yes." He admitted. "It's embarrassing. I-"

"Don't be embarrassed." I helped him up, guided him to the bed. "Sit and tell me. We have the rest of the evening."

Sven nodded, fell silent again. I dampened a corner of the towel in the sink, wiped his face with the hot cloth. "Oh, that's good."

"I know." I said. "Are you okay now? Still a bit foggy?"

"Yeah." He grinned, relief rushing out of him, gripping my hand in his. "Good. Can we cuddle?"

I nodded, "Happily. You seem kind of fragile now. Do you want to talk?"

"Not yet." He said. "I...I'm still..." the words faded again and I gestured for him to lay out. "I'was just thinking," Sven began and I got into my side of the bed by the window.

"What about?" I asked, curling my arms around him. He laid his head on my chest, tentative at first then I settled into a gentler rhythm, stroking his hair softly.

"It got to me this time because we were talking about the past and then you and this happened and I know it doesn't make much sense but I want this and I'm just so happy."

"Good." I kissed his forehead, tender, pulling him into me, gentle. "Let it all out. You're safe here."

"I know." He yawned.

We fell again into silence, to holding one another until I noticed he had fallen asleep. I slid away to the bathroom for a shower then dressed in sweats, pulled my hair up again and set to on the kitchen, tidying up and organising the abandoned wedding invites on the coffee table. I returned Sven's guitar to its stand by the window, grabbed the notebook sharply sending the thick sheaf of papers secured in one side fluttering across the room.

Cursing under my breath, I leant forward gathering them up. Newspaper cuttings, tablature, ideas for adverts scrawled on napkins from places he'd been, business cards. I scooped them into a pile, trying to arrange them the best I could so that they fit neatly into the concertina section at the back of the notebook. I stashed the rest under the band at the front. There had been a larger sheaf secured by a thick rubber band on the inside cover but I had no idea what order they went in. I placed everything on the table, reached under the shelves by the window to grab an errant business card. It was blank on one side, the other filled with neat, blue script for The European Society of Songwriters, Composers and Authors underneath that was Sven's name. I set it on the coffee table, surprised, unaware that he had been a member of such an organisation.

"Oh, good."

I looked up to see Sven next to me, wearing underwear and a fresh t-shirt, plucking up the card. "What is that? I asked. I didn't even know you were a member of such a thing."

"Yup." He nodded, "Technically, they're meant to be a networking group. I find the British one more useful, all things considered, but I was about to try and get hold of it as proof for something at work."

"You do know that people could just Google you?" I suggested. "You're fairly prominent in some circles."

"Hah." He sighed, "Those were the days."

"There's still time." I said, "You're young, it'll work out. Are you feeling better now?"

"A little fragile." Sven admitted. "Did you drop it?" He eyed the disarrayed notebook.

I nodded, "Sorry. I was about to try and arrange it, I don't know what was in there and what wasn't."

"It's okay." Sven was already shuffling everything together, re-arranging the papers. "You didn't see the stuff I didn't want you to see."

"What?" I looked at him. "Hiding something?"

"Yup." He teased, "You'll find out soon enough what it is."

"Is it something for the wedding?" I asked, "What are you plotting?"

"Surprise." He kissed my cheek. "I'll skip the gym today, I think. I'm...I feel foggy headed after that."

"Still a bit spaced out?" I asked. I headed back to the kitchen, poured us both tea.

"Will you stop working and come here." He said. "We're meant to be on holiday. You're always doing things, Mimi."

"Only getting you a drink." I said, placing the cup on the table. "I've no plans now."

"Was I asleep for long?" he asked.

I settled into the sofa next to Sven, nodded. "About 40 minutes or so. You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you."

"I feel better for it." He said. "Did you really mean what you said?"

"Of course I did." I kissed him on the cheek, my fingers woven into his. "You know I'll always catch you. I'm not here to judge you. All I want if for you to be happy."

"Thank you." He squeezed my hand. "You're going to love it."

"What?" I pressed him, "What is this surprise and why are you being so cryptic about it?"

"Because it's not quite done yet." He said. "It's not as good as you deserve."

"Please tell me." I said.

"Patience," He said, stroking my face. "I know that's difficult for you."

I laughed, watched Sven flip through the TV channels, ignoring my fingers pressing into his arm. "I could torture it out of you." I said. "I have my ways."

"Nope."

"Try me."

"I know better than that." Sven said.

I ran my hand upward, under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, scratched at his belly. "Okay." I receded, smiling to myself.

"Stop doing that." Sven said, "You know it's just going to escalate."

"I know." I said. "That's the point."

"Come here."

Before I could say anything more, my right arm was crushed between us, his arms around me, kissing me hard, pushing my mouth open, insistent. I shifted, let him reciprocate the gesture I'd initiated with, his hands edging under my top, pulling it away.