Goodbye Fuck

NOTE: Once again I'm exploring a character for a novel. Gigi has been on my mind far longer than Blakely from Coven Bound. I've been waffling over whose novel I will write first but it will probably be Gigi's as I think Blakely is going to need at least two, maybe three novels, to tell her story.

My Goodbye Fuck

My knuckles rap on my boyfriend's door. I hear a crash, but it's not from his room. I'm in the boy's dorm so crashes, loud conversations and good natured, "fuck offs," are just expected. So is ogling. They all know who my boyfriend is. They all know what I do with him. The walls are concrete but they still have to listen to me. I blush, thinking about it.

But, fortunately, I'm the only one in the hall. Or, maybe not. Embarrassment makes me hot, well, hotter. I came here to get fucked.

I strain my ears. I don't hear motion on the other side of the door. It's a dorm, so, not a big room. I should be able to hear something if he's coming to the door. He should freaking be here already. It pisses me off, because, honestly, I'm kinda hurt. He knew I was coming!

I think.

I wiggle a finger, commanding the simple VI--virtual intelligence--in my computer gauntlet to replay our conversation. Blue, holographic text appears in the space between me and the door projected there by my glasses.

Yeah, I know glasses are old school, but I'm used to them. I don't like contacts and there's no freaking way I was getting an implant after I did the gene therapy to correct my near-sightedness. I did that the day I turned eighteen. Mom was supportive. She didn't even complain--too much--about the fact that I made my eyes amethyst rather than their old ho-hum brown. She totally, freaking flipped out when I turned my hair lavender.

I mean permanently. Without dye. My hair, even my downstairs hair, grows purple now. Amethyst eyes, lavender hair. I like purple. Sue me. It's not like gene mods aren't more common than tattoos. It's not like I went bottled platinum blonde--like she did.

Hypocrite.

I swear the way she berates me she must've joined the Movement for Genetic Purity. She probably told them blonde is her nature color. Not true. So not true. It's not like I became some kind of cat-morph. Please.

I shiver, because, yeah, I'm also a hypocrite too. I've stood in the window of Ink, Neon and Other Mods staring at a gene-mod injector for cat ears because--cute!

I bring my attention back to the text in front of me. Yup. Right there. I see it in plain black and white--well, blue and air, with closed door background--text. Case said he'd be home. I rap the door again, this time, harder. I flinch, because ow.

Still nothing. I have three hours before I need to be at the space elevator. A Lift shuttle will take fifteen minutes. Security will take forty-five minutes. At maximum, I have two hours, tops. No, one hour and fifty-six minutes--now! I don't want to leave without a goodbye fuck because when I come back in four months there'll be some other bottom. She'll be eighteen, have blue hair and, I don't know, a bunny tail. I'm only twenty so she won't even be that much younger than me, so that's going to freaking hurt. I'd wear a shock collar for Case, bio-locked to his signature, if he'd just put one on me.

Okay, dammit, I want a ring too.

The implant does that. I can't get horny on a man without getting attached. The telekinetic implant makes me horny. I crush on every man I meet.

I curse my lady boner and flick my hand towards the bio-scanner on the door. I've never used it but I know my signature is programmed to unlock the door. I watched Case hack the thing. He had me enter my bio-data. He told me it was for emergencies, like, if say, I was bare assed naked in the boy's dorm.

Shit. He's in there. I know he's in there. Case is waiting for me--his good girl. I can leave, get naked in the boy's dorm-room hall or have my butt wailed on. I squirm because options two and three sound really freaking hot. Maybe naked. I'm going to have to sit on a shuttle from the elevator space platform to Lagrange Two. It's not always a smooth ride--no turbulence in space but rocket motor thrust is not the gentlest thing. It makes the seats vibrate. The way Case spanks me? I can imagine the ouch now.

I take a hasty glance up and down the hall. I kick off my shoes and stand on the toes of my socks to strip them from my feet. My gaze shoots back and forth for another safety check. My pants, and panties, come down. I check, yep, damp. I drop my computer gauntlet on the pile on floor. I shrug out of my halter top as fast as I can. The bra is a problem because every time I get in a hurry, I can't find the hasp. Least sexy strip tease ever. It probably took me all of six seconds. My freaking bra took me three. I suspect I'm the color of a cherry tomato.

I bundle my clothes and scan the bio-lock at the same time. It trips. I hear the click. Somewhere down the hall, I hear laughter. A door opens. I yelp and scurry my bare ass inside Case's room. I drop my clothes on the spare bed. Derick lucked out and didn't get a roommate.

God. Some people. It's like their lives are gilded in gold.

"Good girl."

Heat sears me, cheeks to butt. I get off on all kinds of...patriarchal, women-are-sex-objects, demeaning shit. It doesn't mean it's not embarrassing. That might be why I get off on it, because being em-bare-assed--ohmigod. Knowing better than to hide myself, I turn to face my dom.

Case is on his bed pretending to read. His textbook, The Technology and Techniques of Telekinetics, is lowered just enough I can see his eyes. A warm, fuzzy flush wells up inside. I did well. I can see the smile in his gaze. There's a paddle for my butt on his desk. It's the MFGS--mother-of-all-fucking-let's-make-Gigi-scream--paddle. I can tell he thought he was going to have to use it.

Of course, he still might, for no reason other than that he wants too. I won't stop him.

Without a word, I move to the throw rug he put down on his hard as concrete floor. It's not a very boy thing to do. He did it for me. I ease to my knees, gather my ponytail and put my hands behind my head. I pull my elbows back so my boobs...jut. They're not big--fine, they're b-cups...almost--but as a bottom I need to take advantage of my every asset.

Besides, Case is my fourth dom. One and three trained me really freaking well. Three had this way of pushing my boundaries in a way that made me want to step over them. Case is no slouch either.

Case sets the textbook aside and swings his feet to the floor. He's barefoot. They're big. All of him is big. And musclely. Like football player musclely. Because, hello, he is. A player, I mean. A football player. Not a boy that plays girls. I'm the only girl he plays.

And he plays me so well.

"Ass up."

Which means, face down. Something pressures my chest and I have to bite back my squeak. I give it an eighty-twenty chance that I'm about to be spanked--and the paddle he has out, it hurts. Heat worms through my core. Hot slick is gathering and I think I'm about to drip. I lower my face towards the floor until my nose kisses the carpet.

Case comes to stand in front of me. I don't kiss feet--that's in my contract--because, ew. I'm not getting athlete's foot of the tongue. Or, honestly, debasing myself that much. I do have limits.

"You're very attractive, Gigi."

Oh--I squirm and try to slide my thighs together. I know it's naughty. I know he will notice. I know I'll be punished. I can't freaking help it--God. From the second I realized my clothes needed to come off, I've gone from pissed-jilted-girl to please-make-me-orgasm-edged in like two minutes. Case knows my weakness--praise when I'm in a scene. My clit is throbbing. My core is throbbing. My cunt is throbbing.

I am throbbing.

Maybe I should start begging now. I squeeze my eyes closed. He wouldn't like that. He doesn't like easy. I hear the paddle slide off the desk. Now it's ninety-nine to one that I'm getting spanked.

"Master?" I ask. "Why?" He doesn't need a reason and I--will--not--object. I don't need to "deserve" it to accept it but I would like to know if there's something I can do better next time. I pray to every god living and mythical that there is a next time.

"Well, for one, because you had to ask."

Yeah, I got that. Case has told me that before, but I will not stop asking. If that earns me a strawberry butt, so be it. I want to know how to serve my master. He grabs his desk chair and places it beside me and I know, know, it's going to freaking hurt to sit on that shuttle in a couple of hours.

"Two. You knocked twice. Gigi, you're smarter than that."

A worm of shame snaked through me, because he's right. I am smarter than that. Had I not been so impatient, so ready to blame my master--my boyfriend--my...freaking a, fuck--my everything--I would've realized after the first knock that I needed to strip naked and enter.

"Three. You're going away for four fucking months!"

My sinuses pressure. Something unhappy balloons in my chest. A sob escapes my throat. I'm going to miss Case so bad. So bad.

"What's your safeword?" he growls. He doesn't sound happy either.

"Safeword." Safeword is my safeword. Silly? Stupid? IDK. I like it.

The MFGS crashes into my butt. Sting explodes. I yelp, because that hurt. It's not too much. By the terms of our contract, he's not abusing me but...he's not being gentle. Heat sears the impact zone.

"One. Thank you for correcting me, Master."

It's embarrassing that I, a grown woman, am being spanked like a naughty eight year old and thanking him for it. My Dad did this maybe once. My Mom might've done it five or six times. Now I'm spanked three times a month. But the sting in my butt is not the only heat I'm feeling. Again MFGS finds tender, unprotected flesh! I yelp, loud.

"Two! Two...Master. Thank you for correcting me, Master!"

I feel a trickle of liquid heat. I'm pretty sure it leaks from me. It takes all my will not to clench against the next blow.

Another whap. Lower. On the inside of my thigh. It hurts, so bad. I throb. "Three!" I scream. I can usually take more than this before I scream, but--ow! "Master. Master," I gasp sob, "thank you for punishing me Master."

"Thank you for counting, Gigi." I try not to. I know I'm not supposed to. I clench. If I wasn't dripping before, I am now. I feel wet trickle down the inside of my left thigh. I don't know why, but my girl juice is going to make any paddling there hurt more. "You may stop counting now."

Oh shit. I know what that means. The blows are going to come fast--too fast to count. He's not going to spank me ten times or twenty times or whatever. He's going to paddle my bare defenseless willingly presented bottom until I break. I'm going to go past submission, past begging, past screaming, past thinking to that place where I just accept.

He does. I do. The spanks come fast. Painful. Knowing it's naughty, unable to help myself, I shrink away from the blows. I scream. I clench. I blubber. I beg. And then...and then...I stop. I'm a tearful mess but I take it. My mind stops. Then I'm just waiting for the next blow to spread more sting, more heat, more ohmigod-when-are-you-going-to-fuck-me edge. It's my whole world. I'm waiting. The paddle never comes.

"Gigi, baby."

I don't recognize my name. I barely recognize the voice speaking it. A hand runs over my butt. Sting and heat erupt. I whimper.

"Safeword?"

"Safeword. Safeword is my safeword. This is not me using it." I barely know who I am. I know I'm not using my safeword. Not for this. Not now. Not for being spanked. My butt is a California forest fire. My thighs freaking sting like the landing pad of a million bees. I'm hot everywhere. It's so embarrassing that I'd let a man--anyone--do this to me. I feel--I feel--I feel...good.

"Good girl."

Oh. I know the word is just two letters but it sounds like there a fifty warbling "O's" in my head. I'm a good girl. That's who I am. I like that. I really, really freaking like that. Satisfaction pressures my chest and I sigh. A blissed out smile pulls at my lips.

Case worms a hand under my belly and that's when I realize I've slipped hips to floor. I was supposed to be face down bottom up. I'm still face down but I'm prone. My dom helps me get back to my knees. My legs tremble. The skin on my bare bottom? It feels like rice paper stretched too tight and about to rip.

"Let's lock you up. It'll help you stay in position."

Oh goodie. Despite my brain's sarcasm my fuck tunnel squeezes around air. A hot trickle washes my crease. There's so much hot. There's so much wet. All pooling downstairs, er, upstairs, currently, right now. It's like a lake. If I stood up I'd probably make like Niagara but my face is still planted in the carpet.

It's awkward, I'm face down, but Case works my collar around my throat. He's careful not to capture my hair. My hands are cuffed next. They're not the grav cuffs. That'd be dangerous. Once activated, they will not move, until the battery goes dead or they're deactivated. He could hang me in mid-air, attached to nothing. Pressed into the floor like this, an earthquake could kill me. So, yeah, it's the normal fuzzy cuffs that he clips to the back of my collar. I'm still totally helpless. My hands are behind my head and I can't move them more than an inch.

I sigh. Peace seeps through me. This--this--I like.

The spreader bar is next--at my knees. I'm forced open. If he's going to keep spanking me, he can now slap my cunt. I squeeze my eyes closed, because, I'm kinda done with that, but, I won't safeword, I won't stop him, if that's what he wants. My collar is leashed to the spreader bar and I can't straighten. My collar is chained to his desk. I can't rock back. My spreader bar is attached to I-don't-know-what and I can't move.

I wiggle a little, setting off hot sparks in my butt, and, yeah, I'm stuck. I might have an inch of motion. I don't even think I can fall sideways. If I did, I'd choke myself. I know he uses safety chains with a magnetic link. Case likes to chain me up in ways that can be, honestly, dangerous if something goes wrong. He's made me test the magnetic links to make sure I can break them. I can, but it's really freaking hard--especially when I'm tied up at weird angles.

Of course, I could break the chains themselves. Like every other student at TITG--The Technical Institute for the Telekinetically Gifted--I'm a telekinetic. But, yeah, there're reasons I shouldn't try to break the chains with my brain and not one of them is because I'm Case's good girl.

Case could break them. No problem.

Me? If I tried? Big problem. Like, dial 911, big problem. I'm like less than one in two-million. I have so, so much potential. Wasted potential. It's not like I don't get straight A's in every class that doesn't actually require me to use my telekinetics...and control them. Turns out I'm just another wish-I-weren't-a-fuck-up girl.

So, anyhow, that's all to say that despite the fact that I could outmuscle a Titan Mec with my brain, I'm not going anywhere.

Something cool, something soothing, something fiery, all at once, drips on me. I flinch. Another drip. A drop of lube rolls down my butt crack. Maybe its witch vera--aloe vera and witch hazel--because it's soothing and burns. Case's big, knobby football finger prods at my backdoor, smooshing and swirling the lube. My chest pressures. Little sparks are going off in my tail hole. It feels good but...not entirely

"Master?"

"Yes pet?"

I shiver because--oh God. My fuck tunnel clenches and my entire butt lights on fire.

"Is that--is that--" I could get in trouble for asking, because trust and all that, that's what he and I trade in, but witch hazel is too close to a no go on my contract. The burn seems to be going away quicker but still. I need three days warning to gather courage before I'll fig and my dom needs to accept that I still might chicken out. I've let Case shove a ginger dildo in my butt three times and my fuck tunnel once. I've chickened out seven times. I squeeze my eyes closed. I don't want to disappoint my master. It's definitely not ginger. It doesn't burn that bad. I want to be Case's good girl. I sag. I'd hang my head if I could but it's already on the floor. "I'm sorry, Master. I misspoke." I feel ashamed. Which, in a weird way, works for me.

Case stills. His finger continues to pressure my tail hole but he stops smooshing the lube around. The burn begins to fade and I--

And I--

And I start to feel good. Really good. On a scale from spanking to ginger dildo today's paddling definitely hurt worse.

"Are you okay pet?"

Again I clench. Again my butt cheeks ignite. "I'm okay," I choke out.

"Gigi..." he says softly. Concern for me colors his voice. My heart squeezes so hard I think my sternum might crack.

"I'm sorry, Master," I babble. My voice sounds wet. My eyes sting and I think I might be crying. "I didn't mean to question. Please, please, I'm sorry. Don't punish me."

"Gigi..."

I can feel him struggling to stay in his role, to stay in the scene. None of this is punishment. I ask for this, on the regular. My dom gives it to me.

"Master," I say more certain of my role--of my place--of my choice, "please use your fuck toy."

My words are like a lightning strike. Static cracks between us. Case knows I adore being told I'm a good girl. He knows how wet I get when he labels me pet. I know how hard he gets when I call myself a fuck toy. I'm telling him, "I'm sorry. I effed up. Let's get back to the fuck Gigi game."

I feel a slight tremble. It's Case's finger. The one pressing my tail hole. Then he growls. The pressure increases. Fast. Yeah, I deserve that. I deserve to be punished for knocking us out of the scene. I take a deep breath. I soften.

He pops in. Football man's finger is not small. His knuckles are...knobby. It's not like my butt is eating beads but Pop-Rocks go off as first one and then the other joint pushes through my sphincter. I feel full. Sparks simmer. He strokes me inside. My fuck tunnel weeps in envy. The motion stretches my hole and my tail smarts. The knuckles of his other fingers are pressed into my cheeks and I'm on fire. I drum my feet on the floor because--oh God. I didn't know I was this close.

I mean, I'm always close--it's a side effect of my telekinetic implant--but that's not the point.

Case reaches between my legs and pinches my clit. My back bows. My toes curl. I buck against my chain. I--

I--

I--

Fuck! Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. Fuck! This is why I'm Case's sub! This is why I'm his bottom! This is why I let him paddle my butt until it looks like an overripe strawberry! Pleasure is like a laser bolt between my clit and my brain. My back tunnel sings. My front tunnel weeps begging, I mean begging, for attention. I'd jam my entire hand in there if I could get one of them free. I'd use my other hand to pinch my nipples so hard they'd hurt into next week.

"Good girl."

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. I come again. I hadn't even come down from the first time. Case chuckles and, yeah, he did that on purpose. He pulls his finger free. I spark something fierce. My butt tries to chaise him, but, you know, tied up. One inch of movement. Immobilized.

More lube drips on my backdoor. Something bigger is going to go in. I don't know if I can take it. Not because I haven't taken bigger. Not because I don't want bigger. But because my brains are going to melt, leak out of my ears and make my purple hair icky. I'll have to wash it. I'll miss my shuttle. I don't want to miss my shuttle.