Page 7 of The Dom with a Safeword

“Little girl? I’m older than you are.”

“By six months. You’re also lighter and shorter than I am. I could do all sorts of naughty things to you and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

“I dare you try.”

This close, she could see Sabrina’s breathing deepen and the faintest tremble take hold of her.

Q took two steps and glared down at her. “I don’t take dares.” Their gaze locked and there was a silent battle of wills. The pupils of Sabrina’s eyes dilated and she blinked. Slowly, Q lowered her lips until they hovered just barely above hers. The other girl shifted her gaze to her mouth. Q brushed her lips softly against Sabrina’s, then drew back.

Sabrina made a little mewling sound, frowned, then gave herself a shake. She turned fast and grabbed the topmost skirt and slipped it on as though nothing had happened. The rapid rise and fall of her chest suggested she wasn’t as unaffected as she was trying to act. The matching purple PVC shirt she’d picked buckled up the front, and Sabrina fumbled with it for a few minutes before conceding defeat.

“Can you help?” she asked in a small voice.

Q sat in the pile of clothing on the bench and waved her over. Could a person faint from lust? Sabrina stopped in front of her, reddening. By the time Q got to the third buckle up, the soft swell of Sabrina’s breasts became impossible to ignore. She brushed her fingers lightly over the tops of them. Her breath caught in her throat. The nerves in Q’s fingertips felt like they were sizzling with electricity.

Sabrina’s eyes closed and she thrust her chest out in a silent plea for more.

“You don’t act like a straight girl.”

“You don’t make me feel like one,” she breathed, looking down at Q.

“Unhook your bra.”

“What?”

“Do it,” Q commanded. She was often shocked at how easily she could get Sabrina to obey her. This was pushing things. Would she do it?

“Uh...”

“You can’t wear a bra with this shirt. This one’s got a hole in the back and the strap will show.”

“Oh!” Sabrina gave a nervous giggle and turned away, unclasping it and slipping it off through the armholes. She tried to yank the edges of the top together to cover herself before turning back. By holding it in place, she just barely concealed her nipples. “I think it’s too small.”

“No, it’s fine. It just needs to be tied. Let go.”

“But...”

“Now, little girl.”

Sabrina’s fingers slowly let go and the sides of the shirt slid aside of their own accord. The shirt didn’t cover anything important anymore, but held her breasts up like a bustier. She brought her hands up and covered her nipples. “Just buckle it already!”

“No. I want to look at you first. Drop your hands.” If Sabrina did this, there was no more wondering about where things stood between them. Q waited, holding her breath and shifting to ease the seam of her jeans away from her clit.

Sabrina whined and flushed terribly red, but she obeyed.

Oh fuck. Q leaned back against the wall and let her gaze slide over her friend, from her conflicted eyes to her parted lips, and down to the luscious curves of her breasts. Her pretty pink nipples were hard and Q fought not to touch. Yet.

“Are you done now? Help me get this buckled. What do you want to look at me for, anyway? You ogle perfect models all day.” Sabrina’s words came out in a rush, like they were falling over themselves to leave her mouth.

“You’re perfect. And as for the models, if I was into plastic, I’d buy myself a Barbie.”

She grumbled and her brow creased. “Well just take a damn picture already. It’ll last longer.”

“I’d love to take pictures of you. Are you volunteering?” Q felt a little guilty for pushing her – Sabrina did think of herself as straight. This was a big step.

“Can we discuss this some other time? I need to find something for tonight so we can go home and get ready.” And yet, despite her protests she didn’t move.

Interesting.