The Wrong Crush · Part 1 (1/2)
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May was the prototypical wallflower. The person who stayed silent and faded into the background, unremarkable and forgotten. Neither adored nor vilified. A gray mush in human form. Or at least that’s how she thought of herself up until approximately 45 minutes ago, when she found herself sitting on a lumpy couch with questionable stains, talking to Cleo Clay. That’s right, Cleo, that goddess that exuded a life lived like a rockstar, leather jacket and all. And May might add her personal crush since she had gotten to uni.
For three years she had pined from afar; back rows of seminar classes, across the quad. Even at a distance, she had a magnetism. It started at a surface level with her looks, cool blue eyes, wavy full mane of blond hair, smoky eyeshadow. Her signature rocker girl look; the aforementioned jacket, the boots to match, and a classic white tank top, often without a bra. Not that May ever paid attention to that. Well, okay, she did actually. How could you not?
But more than her looks, there was an ineffable charisma to her. She could walk into any room and instantly be the sole point of attention. It was unreal, and somehow it didn’t seem to go to her head. She appeared carefree, unbothered by every eye in the room being on her. She could talk to anyone and hold a conversation. She glided between social groups without blinking a perfect eyelash. She was the unflinching opposite of May. Yet, here they were sitting together, talking about everything from favorite movies to deeper personal details. She’d even gotten the woman to laugh at a joke. One made at the expense of the privileged girls from a notorious sorority.
There was an easy smile on Cleo’s bright red lips, the laughter slowly receding in her throat as she wiped away a small tear. “Damn, you’re funny. I mean, it’s great to meet someone who sees the farce this so-called institution of higher learning is.”
May wouldn’t quite have put it that way. She enjoyed her studies, but she giggled all the same. Somehow, she was talking more than five words to the woman she had watched for so long. It was a dream realized by some miracle. Well, divine intervention or not, it had happened in part thanks to May’s own persistence. She loathed house parties like this. They were anathema to her personality, but they were one of the few places she could hope to get a minute with this intoxicating woman. So, here in her final semester, she was graduating a year early, she had made a concerted effort to be at every social gathering she knew Cleo planned to attend. How did she manage that? Well, a girl had her secrets, and it was amazing what being best friends with a future investigative journalist could help with. Thank you Matt!
Cleo continued her flattery, “May, I wish we had talked sooner. You’re not like most girls around campus. You’re actually interesting.”
What can I even say to that? May wondered, blushing bashfully at the compliment. Before her uncharacteristic conversational skills returned, the lone rain cloud of the evening came hovering over Cleo’s shoulder once more. It was Cleo’s frankly frightening bestie who always seemed tethered to her hip. A punkish woman, clad in black and neon green clothes with oh so many holes in them. Her face a patchwork of steel. Her arms crossed. She glared at May. Does she ever not scowl? It seemed doubly so when she looks at me. I swear she looks like she wants to burn a hole through me, May thought, slightly distraught.
Where there was a sexy, seductive hint of danger to Cleo’s aesthetic and persona, Eden, and yes that was her actual name, just felt scary, dangerous, even if she was actually kind of pretty in her own nonconventional way like an ominous thunderstorm.
Still glowering at the temporarily sheepish May, the real May, Eden, spoke to her blond friend. “Hey, can we get out of here? It’s a real snoozefest.”
Gesturing with a beer bottle towards May while throwing her head back to look upside down at Eden, Cleo suggested instead, “Oh, come on! You should join us. May is such a wonderful woman. I bet you’d get along with her better than you think.”
Dark eyes rolled and looked away, the human storm cloud fidgeting uncomfortably and her cheeks red with what must be frustration or anger. “Whatever,” she uttered before stomping off. It had been maybe the third or fourth time she had interrupted them. She must really think so little of me. She sees and judges me as the pathetic waste I am, May couldn’t help thinking briefly.
“Heh, don’t mind her,” Cleo said, an odd glint in her eye as she watched her friend walk away.
“I don’t think she likes me very much. She’s in a bunch of my classes and she always seems to be glaring at me.”
The blond snorted, “I know she seems real tough and all, but she’s really just a big softy. I bet she’d surprise you, too.”
May disagreed, especially with the way her blood pressure had heightened at just the woman’s presence, but she nodded instinctively out of deference to this woman she idolized.
“Where were we?” Cleo seemed to be searching. Her mind floating with who knows how much alcohol, but not showing it at the moment, “Oh, right! We were talking about how fake and shallow a lot of people are.” She paused to give a small grin and lean a little closer. “But not you, right?”
The woman of her desires this close did so many things at once to poor May. Her pulse quickened, her mouth dried, while somewhere else less mentionable warmed. She could see every little perfect imperfection. The freckle under Cleo’s left eye, just right of center. The faintest hint of a scar on her chin that May had never noticed in her field observations. A marker of some fascinating story she needed to know. What was more, this close, she could smell Cleo for the first time over the mélange of stale beer, sweat, and sweet perfumes and masculine body sprays. Cleo was different. She smelled of leather, the faint scent of cigarettes, sensuality, and…peppermint? May wanted to bury herself in that aroma.
Cleo kept going, “So, what’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done? I bet it’s something really insane! The quiet, interesting ones like you always have the best stories.” She looked pensive for a moment. “I think it’s because y’all are so clever, which I love, and y’all really plan it out and cut loose when no one’s looking. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?” Before May had a chance to reply to the excited woman, something wholly unexpected happened. Cleo leaned further forward, planting her free hand on May’s knee. Warm skin meeting soft skin. “So, spill it. What crazy stuff have you done May-May?”
Overload seized the young woman’s body. This was code red. Cleo had… no… was touching her. Stay calm, stay calm, STAY THE FUCK CALM! The little voices in May’s mind screamed. She could feel her breaths growing quicker and shallower. What should she do? Kiss her! One of the voices in her head yelled over the others. No! Nope, not gonna happen. Who else has ideas? May asked herself. The peanut gallery of her mind had no good answers. Right, she asked me a question? I should answer it. What should I tell her?
Oh, god, oh god, I don’t have any crazy stories. The wildest thing I ever did was accidentally shoplift a candy bar I thought my friend had paid for…That’s not going to cut it! Well, there are those times I’ve tied myself up…but no, that’s too tawdry. Oh, fiddlesticks! What do I do?! Then suddenly, an answer of sorts coalesced. “Oh, I’m sure you have better stories. What’s the craziest thing you’ve done?” That was it! Deflect and ask the question back. Good work May! her inner cacophony cheered.
Cleo leaned back, her hand slipping away. No, no, no, no! Come back! Stupid, you messed it up! May panicked in her mind.
As the other woman sat back, she took a casual swig from her beer. Her eyes narrowed mid swallow. “Huh, good question…” Her blue eyes raking over May. “I already told you about how I defaced that statue to our little university’s founder to highlight his misogynistic ass.” It hadn’t been surprising that Cleo was the culprit of that bit of activist vigilantism. May still remembered how giddy she had been when she had seen the graffiti and, well, um, unmentionables adorning that particular edifice of the patriarchy. It showed Cleo and she shared a particular moral compass, even if May had never been so bold.
Cleo seemed to pause again, her thumb circling the rim of her beer bottle. “Hmm, you know May-May…” the wall flower melted at this new nickname development of the past couple minutes, but more so as Cleo inclined forward again, her eyes darting around to see if anyone else was listening over the den of the party. May gulped. This must be big if she’s concerned who might hear it. She’s never concerned with others hearing her talk. Was it going to be something really cool? Or like was this where Cleo confessed a horrible crime like murder, or tax evasion? May leaned in as well, pushing up her glasses as they slid down her nose.
The answer proved to be nothing illegal, but was about as world shattering for May. Biting her lip first and taking one last look around, Cleo spoke in an excited hush, “I let this freaky guy tie me up like a turkey and fuck me like a goddamn blow-up doll. It was the most sublime fuck I’ve ever had. The way the rope felt wrapped around my body as he played with me. There was this rush knowing someone had me that way. Weird, right? I was so sad after the weekend was over and he just set me loose. I think I would have let him keep me at his apartment all semester if he asked.”
There was no way for May to be certain, but if she had been a betting woman, she would have bet every cent she had that her mouth had not only hit the floor, but was somewhere near the earth’s core right now. The one wild thing she had thought to say moments ago, her interest in bondage, had just been said by her crush. This night had to be a dream, or a stress induced hallucination, right? She would have pinched herself, but that warm, soft hand returned to her knee and it was even more electrifying this time.
Cleo’s voice, still low, but now with a sultry husk, interceded on May’s perplexed behalf, “And you know the only thing that would have made it better? If I had been playing with a cute, real woman like you instead of that meathead.”
This was the moment May’s mind truly shattered. Red lips drifting a few inches away. Blue, hungry eyes waiting with bated breath for a response. Come on May! This is happening! You got to close this. It’s your one shot! “Well…” May’s words were cut disappointingly short as a flash of black and green hair rushed between her and her crush. The shaved sides of Eden’s upside-down head coming over the back of the sofa to rest on the single cushion separating May from Cleo.
“Ugh, come on, Cleo, stop messing around with this little dork and let’s go over to Tony’s. I’m so bored of this place.” The audacity of this…this bitch! May thought. She was furious at Eden for once more getting in her way. Was this on purpose?! It had to be at this point. And what was that fragrance wafting from the woman? It smelled of leather like Cleo, but had this strong, sweet cherry smell. It was actually really nice, May admitted to herself, but still, what the fuck woman?
Cleo handled the moment with more tact than May could have. The blond playfully swatted at the intruder’s forehead. It was an audible slap, but one that was delivered with a laugh and a lighthearted tone. “Goof, get your ass up. You don’t know what things Cheryl’s done on this couch, but I do. Trust me, you don’t want your head there.”
“Aww, nasty, Cleo. Why’d you have to say it like that?!” In a flash, Eden shot back upright, rubbing her forehead. Her arms crossed shortly after and that grimace from earlier returning. This time the interloper didn’t skulk away, to May’s dismay. Instead, Eden and Cleo seemed locked in some kind of staring contest. An unspoken conversation appeared to be going on between the two long-term friends. May started to think she should be the one to step away, but before her dejected heart could manage, Cleo broke the silence, “Okay, Edi.” The other woman’s frown somehow deepened to May’s amazement. “We’ll leave in five. Go get us something for the road. I’ll meet you out front.”
Eden huffed, but stalked off again, though she threw one last glare May’s way. What did I do? the meek woman thought.
“Sorry, she’s not usually like that. I think something had her titties tied up.” Cleo turned back to May. “Speaking of which, have you ever been tied up?”
Oh, holy shitake mushrooms! Her little voices were really scrambling now. What should she say? She’d be lying if she said no, and she probably would seem less interesting to Cleo anyways. She’d only ever tied herself up a little in her alone time. Nothing fancy, a little rope around her legs. A scarf wrapped around her wrists so that she could simply unwind herself. Nothing significant. Not that she didn’t want to. She yearned so much for a woman like Cleo, no, Cleo specifically, to tie her up. She did her best to sound vague and aloof. “Sure, I’ve been tied up before.”
“Really! I knew you were a real woman of culture! I bet you’ve done all that fancy rope stuff, what’s it called? Shishibani?”
“Shibari?!” May blurted out without realizing it.
“Yeah, see, you’re a real expert!” Cleo smiled, and May gave a noncommittal shrug as her heart imploded in her chest cavity. She definitely fantasized about being beautifully bound like living art in rope, but her attempts fell far short of a master rigger.
“Hey, May-May, you don’t need to be modest with me. But hey!” Cleo’s excitement seemed to boom as some idea had shot into her mind. Oh, no. What now? May wondered, both worried and eager to hear what came next. “You know, while I definitely want to get bound up again, one thing I’ve really been curious about is what that guy felt. You know, to tie someone else up and have some fun with them. Since you are so versed May-May, think you’d let me try that sometime?”
Conscious thought no longer functioned in the perfectly normal human meat person referred to as May, or alternatively of late, apparently, May-May. The last five minutes had put an end to all that silly higher brain function nonsense. So, the response came without any real thought from her lizard brain. “Absolutely!” To be so bold should feel alien, but broken as she was by the madness of the moment, May didn’t fully even register she had answered, let alone in the affirmative.
“Great! It’s a bondage date,” Cleo winked. “Let me see your phone. I’ll add you as a contact.”
That unthinking person formerly known as May let her phone pass freely, even unlocking it prior to handing it to this woman she had been mesmerized by.
“There, you’ve got my contacts, so just let me know when you want to have our little date! But don’t keep me waiting too long.” With that, Cleo stood up. “I need to get going before Eden loses it on some poor bastard, but this was so fun! Can’t wait for our little play session!” Cleo hugged May, and was gone before the latter’s mind took in what had transpired. It was all a dream, right? But no, there was a phone number in her phone now. She’d finally gotten to know her crush, and she was amazing, and somehow May had been charming or endearing or something in return. And then to have Cleo voice an interest in bondage, only to follow that up with asking to tie up May? This was the perfect night.
One week later May rechecked her phone. She had at least another 30 minutes to fret over her assembled collection of bondage gear. Over half of it had been purchased the past week specifically for tonight. Familiar and new coils of rope next to each other. A pair of handcuffs that had only come in this morning, thankfully after her roommate had already departed for her weekend with her boyfriend at the lake. Several rolls of duct tape and electrical tape, the former a classic and the latter her preferred sticky restraint. And finally, her lonely vibrator.
Standing here now, it felt pitifully little. Cleo had been texting her all week about how she couldn’t wait to play with a real bondagette, and May had assured her she had all they would need. Stupid, stupid, stupid! those terrible little voices declared in her mind. “Wait! I’ve got it!” she said aloud. She could say they were going to start with the basics. That’s perfect, her inner council chimed in. “See, you’ve got this,” she said, adjusting her glasses slightly.
Her phone dinged, a message from Cleo. It was an image of Cleo smiling wide, her tongue out with the caption, “Here to wrap up the cutest little present!” A little bit of a weird way to phrase that, May thought. Then panic hit. Cleo was super early. That’s okay, you were ready ages ago, a calm voice in the panicked chorus of her mind she reassured herself. This is happening. Holy cow. Here we go! May rushed out through the living room to the front door of her apartment. She paused one long moment. An extra breath to simply right herself, to find that final strength needed to open the door to her desires.
Hand trembling, she turned the handle and pulled the heavy door open. And a blond and leather hurricane rolled in, her arms full carrying a duffle. “You look cute, May-May, and I bet you’ll be cuter once we have you all trussed up!” May blushed and let the door close behind them. Cleo was wandering through the apartment’s living room, inspecting it. “Nice place, better than the shithole Edi and I share.” May winced a little at the reference to the woman who had nearly derailed this fun last weekend with her incessant hovering. Cleo seemed to pick up on it. “Oh, May-May, I’m telling you Edi’s sweet as they come. You oughta get to know her. But hey, enough of that, let’s start having some fun! Bedroom?” Cleo cocked her head suggestively.
May couldn’t believe how forward Cleo was being. She had figured they would have some small talk. Maybe a drink, but no. Cleo was getting straight to the main event. Oddly, May, the consummate wallflower, was good with that. Maybe that was her submissive side. She led the blond bombshell to her room, revealing her little cornucopia of bondage gear. Nerves began eating at May, would Cleo be disappointed? She would be right?
“Oh, nice! So many options. You spoil me, girl!” Cleo cooed excitedly, dropping the duffle on one side of the room. May was surprised by some of the logos she recognized on it. They were mostly punk bands, and none of the rock bands she would have thought. But that thought faded quickly as relief washed over May. Cleo seemed happy with her collection.
“So, where should we start? Like what’s your favorite?” Cleo asked cooly.
May hesitated. This was moving way, way faster than she ever imagined, but it felt right all the same. She pointed to the rope. “I really like how rope feels, but you’ll have to be careful to tie it tight, but not so much that it cuts off circulation.” It felt fun teaching Cleo. It made her feel like she had the upper hand for once on this woman who seemed leagues out of her reach only a week ago.
“Sounds good to me. So, um, are you supposed to strip naked or something now?” Cleo bobbed her eyebrows up and down with the words.
Instinctively, May covered her chest, even though she was fully clothed. “Uh…” Say something, dummy, anything! But she stood frozen.
Cleo eased the tension with a kind laugh. “I mean, I can tie you up like this if it makes you feel more comfortable.”
“No!” blurted May, immediately regretting the need in her voice. She wanted to be naked in front of Cleo, had dreamed about it, but this was way too sudden. Being fully clothed while bound wasn’t fun either. She had tried it before in her self-bondage. “How about I keep my bra and panties on?” She asked, her voice wavering slightly, nervous.
Another warm smile from Cleo helped calm her. “Works for me May-May. Strip, and that bed should be a perfect place to get started.”
May nodded and pulled off her sweater. She thought about trying to look sexy as she did, but that just seemed like a bad idea. Next was her leggings, which she did do a little more seductively, she hoped at least. Cleo was smiling, but seemed distant. Am I doing something wrong? she wondered, or maybe she’s just as nervous as me. Can that even be?
On cue, Cleo pulled off that fierce leather jacket of hers and sauntered over. Her hand pulled a coil of rope from the bed as she squatted beside May’s dangling legs. “Ready?” May only nodded. In surprisingly quick fashion, Cleo wrapped May’s legs at the ankles and knees, using the same single length of rope. It was a little sloppy compared to what May saw online, but it was amazing nonetheless. To feel the dual sensations of rope and warm, soft skin on her own. Each knot cinched, drawing the rope tighter around her. She had thought she would be walking Cleo through the basics, but instead she was sitting silently watching her dream binding her beautifully, even if not perfectly.
Her silent passiveness continued when Cleo stood back up, pushing herself up by leaning on May’s knees, their lips passing inches apart. The blond winked before sliding the pile of bondage supplies to one corner of the bed. She returned to May and, without a word, lifted the bound woman’s legs gently up to the bed as May wiggled back. Cleo Climbed up after her.
They were on her bed. Both. As in May and Cleo. She could smell that mix of peppermint, leather, and a vague hint of cigarettes. She hovered over May, her legs on either side of the captive woman’s hips, reaching for another coil of rope. Looking down, Cleo continued, “Turn over for me May-May. I know exactly how we’re tying you up first.”
May turned over as ordered, ordered by her. May felt her heart pounding faster. “Like this…Mistress?”
A snicker escaped her captor. “Yeah, perfect.”
The rope and those wondrous hands returned. Again, in similar fashion to the legs, the rope meandered around her wrists first, a couple passes, then a cinch, then they wound up around her elbows all one length of rope. The pace quickened, the tugs more confident, the knots cleaner. May’s elbows pulled in toward themselves until they felt strained, but not unbearably so. When done, May flexed her arms and hands. They were snug. The rope wouldn’t be coming off without some effort. Cleo seemed to know this more than she let on.
Then, without warning, Cleo was at it again. A rope going around May’s waist pulled her bound arms to her back. That wasn’t what made May moan in that moment, though. No, that honor went to those warm hands passing across her stomach, so close to a very sensitive and intimate spot.
Warm breath soon crossed May’s ear. “Like that, hmm? Of course you do.” A finger traced her shoulder, and May shivered. “I love all these wonderful things, but it looks like it’s a good thing I brought a toy or two because I don’t see a gag, do you? And a bondage damsel needs a gag, right?”
May’s eyes were wide as she looked over her shoulder. “Yes!” The outburst should have been embarrassing, but she just didn’t care anymore, especially as she felt Cleo’s body roll over her back and off the bed. She turned her head to see Cleo rifling through her duffle. It was making a lot of noise, like there was a mass of items inside, but May barely registered it. She was vibrating with anticipation. Would it be a ball gag? A panel gag? Oh! Maybe one of those inflatable ones! She had always wanted to try one. Really anything would do, her mouth was salivating at the idea of a gag. “Ah! Here we go!” Cleo popped up, holding a bright green ball gag. A flash of Cleo’s scary friend flashed in May’s mind for some reason. That’s weird, she thought, shaking it away.
May’s attention returned to her spit filled mouth as Cleo drew closer. May attempted to subtly swallow the excess, but it apparently failed. “Oh, someone hungry for their gag, huh, May-May?”
“…Maybe?” May tried to recover some dignity.
“Open wide then!”
Reflexively, thin lips opened, ready to accept, but then a meaningful thought cut through the lusty haze building in May. “Oh! Our safe word is pineapple!”
Cleo paused, a small nod, “That’s a funny coincidence…”
The Wrong Crush · Part 1 (1/2)
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