They’d arrived by a short and rather unexpected elevator ride. Ashe had let One lead her to the centre of her office, glad for the steadying hand in hers when the floor beneath them started to rise.
Now the white circle of floor shines in stark contrast to the rest of the shiny black room around it. Ashe can’t really see the walls, but knows they’re there by the bars of violet light punctuating their length, encircling a space a little larger than the last room, but blessedly more private.
The white floor beneath them seems to emit its own glow, stark compared to the violet half-light around them, making it seem like they’re standing in a spotlight.
“Now,” One’s hand remains warmly in Ashe’s, her other five hands clasped before herself. Her manner is somewhere between her usual effortless charm and her more recent apologetic nervousness. “What - what would you like to do?”
Ashe swallows. She'd spent a week answering that very question, at great length and greater detail. But now, in this moment that still seems impossibly real, with One standing before her asking that very question!?
She swallows again.
“Perhaps,” One offers, taking a cautious step towards her, gently reaching out to take Ashe’s other hand, holding both in a firm grip, “we could continue Just a Drink? I believe the story involved restraints? Holding your limbs out or behind you, stretching but not hurting you. Would that be okay?”
Ashe swallows. "Y-yes.”
“Was there any part of the story you weren't comfortable with happening now?”
“Um,” her voice sounds at once too quiet and too loud.
One squeezes her hands, two more steadying her shoulders. “It’s okay, take your time. I would like to make you happy, without any more... assumptions, on my part.” One swallows.
“Impact play,” Ashe blurts, steadying herself, “I’ve... never done it, before...” she trails off. She feels like she’s confessing, shattering the great lie she's built up in her stories, of a naïve yet diversely experienced young woman who is so much more than the flustered, sweaty disappointment standing here, admitting her many shortcomings.
She feels a hand slide smoothly onto her cheek, warm and soft, gently turning her to see One’s smile, so soft and earnest and loving and all for her. “Thank you for telling me. Did you want to explore that now? Or perhaps leave it for another time?”
“Another time,” Ashe breathes out, feeling at once relieved and delighted at the implications. Another time? “But I’m okay with you being... rough. With me being off balance, overpowered?”
A light seems to glint in One’s faceted eyes. “I’d like that. I like the idea of needing to overpower you - of you not just blindly following orders, but struggling, trying to resist. Is that something you’d be interested in or would that be too -”
“I’d like that,” the words blurted out more intensely than she intended, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise for being honest. Thank you for trusting me.” She’s smiling at Ashe again, a more intimate, caring smile just for her. It’s a lot to take.
One takes a steadying breath, and raises her final hand, the only one not yet touching Ashe. She extends one finger after another to count off in summary, “So, restraints, being overpowered, struggling.” With three fingers raised her thumb half extends, a question in her eyes, “And the story contained a fair amount of orgasm control. Bringing you to the edge repeatedly. Keeping going after you’ve orgasmed. Making you beg for more or less or mercy?”
Ashe nods too quickly, her whole body feeling taut, like any small movement would become a panicked flinch. She dares not move, no matter how much she wants to lower her head to hide, she’s unable to do so with that hand gently cupping her cheek.
“Are you okay with all of that happening now?”
“Yes!” the word comes out too high and far too loud.
One smiles kindly, “Thank you. I would really enjoy crafting an experience that gives that to you. The sense I get from your writing is that you want to not be in control?”
“I, I want...” now she's looking at One, right there, right in front of her, she’s unable to turn away, she’s forced to see One waiting to hear her silly little fantasies and, and -
One’s hand strokes her flushed cheek. Her counting hand takes her other cheek, gently but firmly, all six hands holding her, steadying her. She looks up to see One is right there, breathtakingly there before her, seeing her, really seeing her, saying words that Ashe’s mind refuses to comprehend.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“May I kiss you?”
Ashe breathes. “Yes!”
Ashe sees One lean in, feels her world move, dimly realises One is pulling her closer. One turns her head ever so slightly until Ashe loses sight of her slightly parted lips... and feels them on hers.
She breathes the feeling in. She feels so much more than One’s lips moving against her own, gently asking, exploring. She wants to ask for more but can’t, is overjoyed when she doesn’t have to as she lets her lips part at One’s beckoning, feeling the warmth of her breath inside her. More than that she feels a dam of emotion break within her, uncertainty and longing and shame and doubt and all the worst things she tells herself all melting before a rush of overwhelming joy that makes her want to cry, to stop, to never stop, to just be there kissing One forever. She barely notices One’s hands moving from hers to her hips, pulling their bodies closer.
“Naaah!” her erection is remembered all at once as it's pressed against One, startling Ashe’s voice out of her and leaving her breathing heavily against One’s lips.
“Are you -?”
Ashe’s lips interrupt her, arms thrown around her and pulling her close and holding onto her as Ashe kisses her back with everything she has, unable to stop herself from pouring her wants and needs and feelings into the blissful sensation she can barely take but can’t control, moaning in One’s mouth as she feels their tongues touch, and never stop touching.
Ashe gasps for breath, her forehead resting against One’s as they both breathe the same hot air for a long moment. Ashe’s voice is more breath than words. “I’m, I’m sorry, I -”
Now it’s One’s turn to interrupt, briefly but just as ardently, leaving Ashe gasping even harder as One breathes her own reply, a deep hunger in her voice, “Don’t - you dare - apologise for that.”
Ashe keeps trying to catch her breath, her voice coming unbidden at every slight movement of their bodies against each other. She realises she’s standing as tall as One, or rather than One is holding her hips and legs and shoulders against her and up off the ground, and though One is breathing just as hard it doesn’t seem to be with any effort. Ashe half-giggles, kisses One again because she can, lets One pull her legs open around her and feels the clearer contact of their hips against each other and her voice lost around One’s tongue.
It’s One’s turn to gasp for breath, holding Ashe’s shoulders back to keep them apart, “Okay, okay...”
She carefully lets go one shoulder, raises three fingers and a thumb, “Restraints, overpowered, struggling, orgasm control. How do you want to be made to feel?”
“Yours,” Ashe hears, realises she said it but isn’t able to stop even more words tumbling out of her, “I want to be yours. I want to know you’re in control, that I can resist but can’t hope to beat you or stop you having your way with me, but not to be afraid you’ll hurt me or hate me or be mean to me. Does, does that make sense?”
“Dominated, but not degraded nor harmed? Endearments rather than name-calling?”
“Yes.”
“Safe word?”
“Traffic lights - ‘red’ for stop, ‘yellow’ for slow down.”
“Aftercare?”
“Hold me and tell me I did good.”
“Of course, and for me I’ll need reassurance that I didn’t go too far, even if there were no traffic lights. Okay, okay, anything else?”
“Kiss me, please.”
One does, but only briefly, the absence of more drawing a whimper from Ashe, hushed by a soft but firm finger pressed to her lips, held there as One unwraps Ashe’s legs and puts her bodily back down on her own unstable footing.
It already seems odd that Ashe needs to look up at One, whose eyes are gleaming again, her voice edged with hunger once more.
“Are you ready?”
Ashe takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and nods.
“Good,” One pushes her backwards.
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