Serving Her

"Go on," she smiled, nodded to her shining thighs. "Get to it."

"Of course." He kissed her neck, sank down to the familiar, muskiness of her vulva, plunging his tongue between her labia to find their secretions running together, lapping at their mingled, bitter, saltiness with enthusiasm. He lapped and licked and sucked at her with just enough pressure to make Mimi moan and push herself against his face, her hand knotting into his hair. She left behind her usual verbosity, replaced her tender words and sharper ministrations with sighs and moans and the continuing rhythm of her grinding hips. Sven had to grab her hard to stop her thrashing when her orgasm came and he felt her spasm slickly against his mouth.

He grinned and nibbled her thigh, made her giggle and purr. "Good, sugar?" he settled on her thigh, kissed the skin tenderly.

Mimi nodded, smiling down at him full of the realisation that there was nothing else she wanted, that she was completely happy. Speechless-inducing good, she thought, That's how good. Eventually, came out with, "Yes." Mimi's hand moved across her forehead to flop into the pillows then she brushed the hair from his face. "Good?" she asked.

He crawled up to kiss her on the mouth, held her close for a long time. Mimi hummed and crackled with happiness inside, knew that she'd never love a person like she did him. She touched the tender space on his neck where she'd bitten his neck. "You know," she said, "That's going to mark."

"Good." Sven sighed. "You should probably mark your possessions."

Mimi laughed. She was stroking his arm as the talked, their bodies pressed together. "Wake me later. We can spend all of tomorrow morning in bed."

"What if you wake up first?"

"Then I'll wake you." Mimi smiled.

"How?" he asked.

"Surprise." Mimi sat up, headed towards the bathroom. "You'll just have to wait and see."

Mimi kept her promise. Sven realised this at just after nine thirty when quite from nowhere the sting of what turned out to be a long, plastic ruler pulled him from sleep.

"Guten Morgen, my lovely." Mimi planted a cup of coffee on the table and finished with a kiss on Sven's cheek.

"Shit." He rolled over, looked at her sleepily a knot of incoherent alarm coming from him Eventually, it straightened out and became words that were not fogged with sleep. "That fucking hurt." He moaned a little then laughed. "Good morning." He answered.

"Awake now?" Mimi looked down at him, blew on her own steaming cup.

"Mm-hm." He spoke into the pillow then rolled over. "Yes."

"Good." She met his mouth again, watched as he rearranged the covers over himself. "Sorry." She set her cup on the nightstand. "I couldn't resist. You'd kicked off the covers and your bum was right there."

"Where did you find that ruler?" he nodded to the thin strip of acetate Mimi had left on the side table.

"Dumping ground." She said, referring to their tiny broom cupboard come office. "In with my art stuff. I'd totally forgotten I had it."

"Until now." He said.

Mimi couldn't figure out whether he was pleased about it or not.

"Until now." She smiled, grabbed it off the side-table, arcing it up and down with delighted menace. "So swishy."

"Ugh. That's the surprise, isn't it?"

Mimi grinned, masked the fact that she'd promised the surprise on the spur of the moment and had no idea how she was going to wake him until the very moment she remembered the ruler. She hadn't been lying about his backside, though, or how irresistible he'd looked sleeping. The jolt of shock he'd made when she hit him would certainly be stashed in her alone time playlist for many months afterward.

"I was thinking in the night about what you said yesterday." Sven said.

Mimi looked up at him, frowned.

"What?"

"About having to be quiet."

"Oh." She answered, surprised that he had remembered. "How come?"

"Now you mention it, I think it's true and I think it applies to guys as well."

Mimi nodded, pensive. "Hah. I had to do a fair bit of reconditioning with you." She kissed his cheek. "So many men feel so angry and sad about their sexualities or they simply don't know."

"Oh, no." Sven said. "I knew, alright. That's why I felt bad. Like I had to grow some balls and be a man."

"Hmm." Mimi hugged him, settled her head against his shoulder. "Strongest man I know." She rubbed his belly with tender reassurance.

"You know that never gets old." Sven said, He closed his eyes and let the crackle of delight skate across his shoulders, glitter in his chest. "I never thought it could be real."

Mimi said nothing, smiled in response, too embarrassed to reply and sure that whatever she did say wouldn't be enough - couldn't communicate the swell of love she felt for him. Her hands curled into his side, to his warm skin beneath the covers in the hope that actions would speak for her.

"I mean it." He said, kissing her hair. "You always have my back."

"Always." She said. "And your bum."

Sven laughed, "I was trying to be cute, Mimi and you made it dirty."

"Of course." She said, kissed him hard, looked down at his naked body. "I didn't hurt you too much, did I?"

"No." He chuckled. "It's smarting but in a good way."

Mimi sighed. "I probably should have picked something else I was just too excited."

"Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment. That's so cute."

"You're blushing." Mimi teased.

"I know." Sven said. "I never really felt like I was that appealing until...you know..."

Mimi raised an eyebrow, urged him to speak. "What?"

"Until you." He sighed.

"Until you I was scared to say anything." Mimi said. "I was too embarrassed, too scared I'd be laughed at for being romantic."

"Don't say that."

"It's true. I never really saw it growing up then one day when I was older, much older, I saw this couple. They must have been in their sixties easily, in a bar one night. Two men." She explained, her eyes fixed on the middle distance like she was back there already, smoke in her eyes and glasses clinking. "One was dark, the other blond and the dark guy leant in and kissed his lover like I had never seen two people kiss each other before. I never once saw my parents kiss like that. I mean, they pecked each other on the cheek but never like this, never like they actually cared. This couple stunned me. I think I literally had my mouth open and I could feel my heart jump. I thought, 'So, adult people can be romantic.' Which sounds crazy now but I never felt like I could have that or show that. I was scared and then-" she kissed him, her hand in his as though she were still trying to check after all this time that she did love him and that he loved her. "Then I wasn't anymore."

"I'm still a bit scared of that ruler, though." He laughed. "A little."

"Silly." Mimi sat up. "You know I once heard this woman on a documentary talk about why she was a sadist. It was very nineties, I can't remember how I got it - the internet probably - but she said she had so much love inside of her that it came out as pain. That she ached for love and to give love with such strength that causing pain was the strongest, clearest way she could prove it."

Sven nodded slowly, smiled at her makeup smeared face. "I have never heard it put like that before."

Mimi nodded, "It's always stayed with me. It's like it physically hurts, how much I love you and that's what I'd hide." She shrugged. "I hide my emotions because they were so often too loud, too dramatic, too inconvenient for others."

Sven sighed, rubbed her arm. "Fuck other people, Mimi. It's your life."

"No. I know." She answered, her voice rolling into a frustrated drawl. "I know. In my logical mind I know that, it's just," she hesitated, not entirely sure how to explain. "It takes a long while to get over."

"Sounds familiar." Sven smiled, pulled her back down into the covers next to him. "Am I going to get the ruler, then?"

"If you're lucky." Mimi laughed. "It's a pretty hot thought. I may have fingered myself a little."

"You started without me?" he frowned, "Rude."

Mimi laughed again, pushed herself against him. "Didn't finish, though."

"Oh."

"That's your job." She said, her thighs conceding to his pressing fingers. "But not yet." She grabbed his wrist, willed herself to pull backwards. "You know what my favourite thing is?" she asked.

"Ahhh." Sven sighed., the noise twisted out of him, a long rope of frustration laid out ready for him to hang himself upon. He grimaced, wondered why she always asked him those damn rhetorical questions. "Don't ask me stuff like this because the answer could be pancakes or it could be fisting or it could be shoes or getting a manicure or dogs."

Mimi shook her head, raked her fingers through her hair as she got out of bed. "Well, I was actually going to make a sex request but all of those things are good. Just not now." She pulled on a fresh pair of underwear, added a thin camisole on top. "Come and make me a fresh cup of coffee." She said. "This one's gone cold."

Mimi raised her mug, snatched up the ruler as she bounded out of the room. Sven didn't mention that it still looked warm or that feint trails of steam rose off it. Instead, he watched her move, her hair flicking behind her. "Don't get dressed. You're fine as you are."

Sven grinned, "Of course you'd make me be naked."

"Of course."

* * *

"Anything else?"

Sven set the cup on the dining table and pulled a chair out for himself, was stopped short by a flick of the ruler across his knuckles. It hurt more than he'd expected.

"No." Mimi said. She stood up and beckoned him nearer. "No chair for you. Come here." She gestured to the space in front of her with a flick of her wrist, the clear plastic rushing through the air. "On your knees. You can be a footstool while I drink."

"Yes, Ma'am." Sven said, the request taking him by surprise. He knelt, felt the join between the floorboards cut across his knees. "This is new."

"Since when does furniture speak?" Mimi pushed him in the ribs with a playful wiggle of her toes, smirked down at him with amused impatience.

Sven took a breath, made to apologise then cut short drawing another laugh from Mimi.

"Nearly had you there didn't I?" she sighed.

Sven said nothing.

"Much better." She blew on her coffee. It was dark and bitter and sent a pleasant caffeinated kick whirling around her which was good but not quite as good as the endorphin kick she got from the novelty of having Sven underfoot. Mimi watched him settle onto all fours and bow his head sweetly. Today would be a good day, she was sure of it. "You just need to learn to be quiet sometimes." She said. "All that rush and hustle at work. All those late nights." She mused, "Sometimes you just need to shut the fuck up."

Sven tried hard not to smile. Wasn't sure if human furniture should smile or not and so, focused intently on the floor. She was right, of course, like she always was; able to tell just what was needed before he could. He remained silent and centred on the feel of her feet that were cold, like they always were, and pressed into his flattened back. He remembered watching his mother teach his sister how her back must be flat if she was to pass the auditions for the Ballet du Grand Théâtre in Geneva. Now, in a perverse twist of coincidence, he faced an audition of his own. He stretched down, anthromorphic, before flattening himself against the soothing pressure of her feet.

Mimi stayed quiet. Let the noises from the street filter through the windows and settle around them. The pipes ticked and rushed but the building was quieter than usual. Everyone, it seemed, was doing the same, spinning out Saturday morning with lie ins and long breakfasts. Or, Mimi thought, similar. She doubted very much that there were many other women in the building using their fiancé as a footstool. But, maybe she was wrong, and everyone was at it; Perhaps Tara Nelson in 3C could throw a bullwhip like a pro and darling Mrs. Kettner was a Goddess when it came to needle play. She hid her smile behind her mug, took a gulp of the bitter liquid.

"That gym time you're getting is doing you good." Mimi dug her foot into the raised knot of flesh and muscle that was beginning to rise up where the deltoid met the trapezius. "Move out, lie on your back so I can rest my feet on your chest."

Wordless, Sven obliged, turning over and lying close to the chair on which she was sat, presenting himself to her.

"Do you miss it?" she asked, looking down at him, her feet running over his chest, catching the hair. "The farm."

Sven hesitated, looked up at her like he wasn't sure if it was a trick question or not until Mimi nodded her approval.

"Sometimes." He said, his voice cracking with sleep. "If I've had a bad day, I think about the way the damp earth smells and the quiet and cool of the cellars. But If I've had a good day, I think of the boredom and how the nearest bar not filled with old guys is at least a half an hour drive away."

Mimi laughed, ran her foot gently over his chest. "And what will you think of today?"

He reached out for her trailing feet, ran his hands over her calves. "Today," he began, "I am very happy to stay on the floor or wherever else you'd like me."

"Right answer." Mimi pushed her cup away, porcelain rushing over the wood. "Now stand up. I've had a brilliant idea."

Sven stood, looked down at Mimi. "Are you winging this?" he asked.

"I thought I told you not to ask questions?" she said. "Don't. I'll do what I want and you'll do what I want."

"Of course."

"Did you have fun last night?" she asked, pulled her chair to the side so she could lean against the edge of the table, her cheek cupped in her palm.

"Yes, of course I did."

"How's your dick this morning or, should I say, my dick? I know you had a little morning wood earlier. Everything okay?"

"Fine." He laughed. "Your dick is just great."

"Good." Mimi smiled, ran the ruler through her fingers, flipped it over. "I want you to put your dick on the table. Just rest yourself right on the edge." He voice lilted up into a bright sing-song. "You'll probably have to bend your knees."

"Aw." Sven pulled a face.

"On the table."

"You're going to hit me."

"On the table."

"But-"

"Table."

He obliged like he knew he would, inevitable but it was always better he felt to go down at least trying to fight. Plus, he knew that she liked it when things were difficult for him. This task was no exception, he was a good distance from the table-top and as predicted had to bend his knees awkwardly to balance his member on the scarred wood.

Mimi giggled and leapt from the chair, bouncing like an excited child for whom Christmas had arrived early. She scooped up her cup and kissed Sven on the cheek.

"I'm just going to get a refill. Stay as you are."

"My legs are going to burn like this."

Mimi nodded. "That's exactly why I want you to do it, sweetness. You'll do that for me won't you?"

She put the pot back on the counter, gave him the gentlest look she could muster.

Sven said nothing, laughed and nodded where there should have been words. Much to his irritation and perpetual embarrassment, she still had the power to turn him into a churlish, bungling schoolboy with an arch of her eyebrow and the softening tone of her voice. He did not know how much porn he'd watched wherein dominatrices were booming harridans but he was sure that nothing was quite so potent as Mimi and her sweet, soft cooing, all razors dipped in honey. He centred himself again, focused on the swarm of insects that had taken up residence in his chest and seemed to be sending an inconvenient amount of blood southwards. Fuck.

"I asked you a question." Mimi sipped and watched, tipped the ruler from side to side in her hand.

"Yes, Ma'am." Sven said. "Of course I will."

Mimi smiled, sauntered back over to the table. "Nice to see you're so enthusiastic about this." She said, the corner of the plastic implement trailing delicately over his skin. She dropped the ruler parallel to him, poked at his length with a single finger, pressing it into the table. Her free hand rubbed his back gently and she kissed his arm. "Disappointing." She whispered, knew the comment would roll right into the animal part of his brain that was so fond of being humiliated. "As ever, you don't quite measure up."

He mewled in response, like the word had been a knife that had cut just a little too close. Sven exhaled, swallowed as Mimi kissed him on the mouth, her fingers running over his cock.

"You know what I was wondering?" she asked, the question pattering like raindrops onto his lips.

Sven shook his head. "No, Ma'am."

"I was wondering if this ruler really was shatterproof?"

"Oh." He said, words receding and the great, primal bellow of need roared up in its place, rushing out in a breath.

"Shall we find out?"

Sven realised that she had switched the ruler and was rubbing it over his backside, reawakening the earlier swat. He felt as though every cell in him remembered and yearned for a repeat performance, like he too, was desperate to prove his love with pain. The thin plastic trailed like silk against his skin, soothing and pleasant until it disconnected then flickered back, biting at the yielding flesh. He grunted, grabbed the table.

"Nope." Mimi giggled. "Hands behind your back now."

She rubbed the reddening flesh, kissed him again, her mouth harder this time, her tongue pushing his lips apart, making him brace himself awkwardly against the table. She said nothing, didn't need to because Sven knew all too well what was coming as she ran the plastic over his chest in gentle movements then pulled away and poised herself, watched him try to prepare for the swat across the hardening flesh. He moaned when it didn't.

"Patience." She smiled. "Such a greedy pain-slut, aren't you?" the ruler ran over his cheek, sent an impulse jolting right between his thighs.

Sven said nothing.

"Aren't you?" she repeated.

"Yes, Ma'am." He said. "I'm a greedy pain-slut."

"My slut."

"Your slut."

"Good boy." Mimi smiled.

Her reaction made Sven glow inside; there was nothing else he yearned for quite as much as her approval; not just to be a good boy but her good boy. That was the difference; Her. Every. Single. Time. The dominatrices of his youth paled in comparison to her love.

"You look nervous." She laughed.

"Can you blame me?"

"No." Mimi kissed his neck, wrapped her arms around his waist, breathed him in. "I can blame you for this, though." She said, her hand pulling his to the wetness between her thighs.

"I'll take it." He whispered, turned and kissed her on the mouth.

"I didn't say you could stand up."

"Yeah, but my legs."

"You're being a pouty baby, sugar." Mimi stroked his cheek. "Dick back on the table." She watched him do it, arranging himself despite the ache. "Good boy."

Without warning, she brought the implement rushing down against his cock and laughed as he tried desperately to flinch as little as possible. She repeated the action, delighting in the way he jerked and mewled and tried so very, very hard. After a while she stopped, stepped back to admire the reddened flesh and his heaving chest. The look on his face made her want to push him right between her legs, have him lap up every drop of damp that he'd inspired.

"How's your dick?" she asked.

Sven burst into frustrated laughter, gave her a long look. "I love you." He breathed.

Mimi felt it happen then, that tiny snap, the moment where he would be adorably, perfectly submissive and send her rushing towards him. Her hands pressed into him and he met her half way, anticipating her. They staggered backward awkwardly, melted backward onto the floor in a tangle of fingers and limbs. Despite the rising urgency of their passion, Mimi stopped him again, her mouth pressed against his ear.