forthsofar | the cushy sheltered way of life was really no fun

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nick

the cushy sheltered way of life was really no fun

She's kept quiet about it. Not because of any worry or concern, not because she feels as though she's done anything wrong--indeed, in a way this feels the furthest thing from incorrect. There's just been a lot to think about, thoughts and feelings and needs that she's been turning over in her head and trying to parse out on her own before she brings them up with either Nick or Sabrina. She'll need to, because they're the cause of it all, the ones that sparked that odd blossoming warmth within her as they asked questions that held just the barest edge of command behind them.

It could be that she's understanding it all wrong, her relative inexperience turning words murmured in the heat of passion into something that feels more weighty than it is. But somehow, she doesn't think so. Whether she's misunderstood or not, though, Rosie wants to be sure of herself, and sure of what she wants. As she'd been told before, so many times, that's the only way this works.

After a few days of thought, she's ready to open the conversation, and given that they already had plans this afternoon, Nick seems the perfect person to start with. Settled on his couch and entwined under a blanket, they watch--well, mostly--the season premiere of that awful witch show Nick had fallen in love with during his convalescence, the both of them laughing and shouting things at the screen. Once it's over, Rosie reaches for the remote control, clicking the television off.

"Nick," she says softly, a flutter of uncertainty starting up in the pit of her stomach, something she tries to ignore. She turns in his arms until she can press a kiss to his mouth. "Could I...there's something I wanted to talk to you about." Realizing how that might sound only once it's out, her eyes widen, just slightly. "Something...I think it's something good, I promise."

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She nods. "You did a good job balancing it this time," she says. "The one thing I didn't...it was a little too much, when you suggested I finger my, um...my ass." The word feels a little awkward, but she makes herself say it even as her blush deepens another few shades. "But you stopped right away, so it was only uncomfortable for a moment, truly."

Tilting her head up, she brushes a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, a reassurance of her own. "Being put over your knee was so unexpected," she agrees, laughing softly. "Having you drag me into place, the way it felt to be so vulnerable, all of it."

"Vulnerable but good, right?" says Nick, brushing his lips against her forehead, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a smile. "Yeah, anal is...definitely not for everyone. It'd be hot, I'm not going to lie, but if you're not into it, you're not into it, babe."

"Oh good grief, that word, Nick," she says, rolling her eyes even as she's smiling up at him. Maybe to protest that--however mildly--makes her seem a little prim, even incongruously so after what they'd just done, but she doesn't entirely care. "Not that you need any more wicked ideas for next time, but I think you're going to enjoy making me say vulgar things, most of all."

Rosie lets out a quiet breath, nodding in answer to the question. "Vulnerable but good, yes. Like I was being properly punished for being a bit of a brat, especially since I'd already been told not to be."

"They do sound particularly filthy when you say them," he says. "And that wasn't a flat no, by the way." He grins broadly at her, definitely teasing. "Why do I suspect that that's not going to stop you being a brat?"

"Oh, because it absolutely won't stop me, Nicholas," she says, teasing him right back. "I'm forever saying and doing things I shouldn't, without much care for the consequences, and I hardly think I'm going to give that up any time soon."

She grins up at him, bright and pleased and almost overwhelmed with affection for him. "And I think you like me quite a bit because of it."

"This is very, very true, Wilson," he says, grinning at her. "It's going to be fun figuring out how to push your buttons." He skims one hand down the curve of her spine. "We can always go again, too. If you want."

"It is," she agrees, a pleasant and unexpected shiver going down her back at both the thought and the feeling of his fingers along her spine. "And I suspect you're going to be very good at pushing them, too."

The idea of going again, of trying more, makes that faint wanting ache start up again. After a moment to think, honestly and completely, about how she feels, Rosie looks at him and nods. "Yes, Nick," she says. "I want to go again. Try more things, or...or the same things. Maybe a combination, really."

"Tell me what you'd like to do again," he says, pushing his fingers into her hair. "What you'd like to do more of? How do you want me to push you, Rosie?"

That touch to her hair gets a little firmer and more possessive, and it's the perfect sort of start to what they're about to resume. Rosie's breath catches at the pull, and there's a faint spark of heat in her eyes when she looks up at him next. "More of the...the humiliation," she says, blushing hard. "Same kind, I think, being made to say things or told what to do, I just...we ought to try more of it, I think. And being spanked again, if I don't do it right."

She mulls over all the things they'd done already, sifting through them for ideas or suggestions, and one occurs to her. One that's a little shameless and surprising, making her stomach flip in a way she's rapidly coming to enjoy, but appropriate even so. "Earlier, when I was on all fours, you held me a little tight," she starts. "Hands on my hips, making it so I couldn't really move except to go where you put me, do you remember? There was something about it that I liked a lot."

"So you'd rather I held you down rather than tie you?" He asks, running a proprietary hand along her bare thigh under the blanket.

The run of his hand along her thigh gets her parting her legs a little more, before she can entirely catch herself doing it. "You could do either, really," she says. "I...I want to try both. Maybe not today, just, um, in general."

Rosie pauses again, taking stock, knowing that answer is too vague for a situation that demands as much clarity as she can provide at the outset. "Tie me up, this time. We can try you holding me down another day. If that's something you want too, of course."

She might not catch it, but Nick definitely notices. His hand slips around to her ass, squeezing, the other still pushed into her hair.

"Tied down. Blindfolded." He grins, sharply. "Sounds perfect."

Rosie moans shakily, a reaction due as much to the squeeze to her ass as the look on Nick's face. "Y-yes, Nick," she says, squirming against the sheets, her eyes locked to his. "Tied down and blindfolded a-and available to you. At your mercy."

"And you want me to play with you, don't you?" he says, still squeezing her ass. "You want me to push you and play with me and use you, don't you? Say it."

She catches her lip in her teeth with a short little cry and nods, her cheeks already flushed so red. "I do, I want that, to...to be pushed and played with and..."

Rosie stops, swallowing hard, wrestling a little with the choice in a way that adds to the ache already building within her. "And to be used, Nick. I want you to play with me and use me, h-however you want."

"But first you want me to tie you up," he says, grinning down at her, leaning to take a kiss. "How do you want to be tied up, Rosie?"

He keeps smiling at her and there's an edge of sharpness to it that makes her head spin. Rosie nods again. "I want you to tie me up," she repeats, already trying to be good again for him.

The how of it gives her pause, and she glances around as much as she can with how he's holding her, his fingers still tight in her hair. "Hands above my head," she suggests. "Tied to the headboard, maybe, while I'm lying on my back? Though I'd have to be good the entire time for you, positioned like that, since..." Another pause, as her face gets a few degrees warmer. "Since you couldn't spank me that easily, maybe."

"You're assuming that it's only your ass I'm going to spank, Wilson," he says, reaching for the blindfold again and unceremoniously slipping it over her eyes before he gets off the bed, going to the drawer where he keeps the toys that he and Sabrina bought.

"Of course it is, what else would you--" Rosie gasps as the blindfold is pushed down over her eyes, the rest of her silly, naive question forgotten in her surprise at being plunged into darkness again.

The bed jostles a little as Nick gets up. When she hears the sound of some drawer opening and closing a little further away, her stomach flips in uncertain anticipation.

"You'll have to wait and see, won't you?" says Nick, grabbing a pair of restraints out of the drawer and moving back over to the bed. He shifts Rosie where he wants her, on her back on the bed, arms up over her head, fastening one wrist and then the other to the bedframe. She's still draped in the blanket, and he leaves it like that for a moment.

"Won't really be seeing much of anything, Nick." She shouldn't say that, she knows, but there are times it's far too difficult to resist needling him. She braces, just slightly, for the punishment she half-expects is coming. "But I'll be patient."

His hands are just as firm and insistent as before, moving her into place. Still a little pliant after having come so hard, Rosie moves easily, even obediently, and once the restraints are locked around her wrists and attached to the bedframe, she pulls at them, the motion half struggle, half curiosity.

Once he's got her settled, he reaches up and tweaks one of her nipples.

"Remember what I told you about that tone, Rosie. Unless you're angling for a spanking already?"

She startles at the pinch, her back arching briefly before she settles again. "N-no, Nick," she says, her tone a little softer and easier. "I haven't forgotten. I'm sorry, I'll be good."

"We'll see how long you can keep them up for," he says, slapping the back of her thigh. "Spread your legs, Rosie. You know what I want to see."

The slap is both unexpected and stinging enough to make her yelp, the sound short and louder than Rosie entirely intended. "I'll try my best, Nick," she says shakily. That faint indifference in his tone, the way he doesn't sound quite sure if she'll stay as docile and pleasant as he wants, all of it combines to make Rosie all the more committed to being as good as she can...if only to prove him wrong. "I promise."

With that--and still blushing hard, as always--she slides her legs apart, wide enough to expose her flushed and still-slick cunt.

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