Pearl (
herconfidante) wrote in
ladieskissing2015-09-07 08:19 pm
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Pearl collapses through the front door at half past midnight, like every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. These are the days she has work after class, and while she frequently ends them stumbling half-conscious on the tail of a caffeine high, it's not often that she's so aggressively miserable.
As demonstrated quite immediately by her regular greeting being replaced by an incredibly vocal, drawn-out groan.
"Today was a disaster," she announces to the back of Garnet's head over the sofa's edge, momentarily tempted to just let her backpack drop from her sore shoulders to the floor before remembering her very expensive custom-made laptop, and placing it neatly on the floor instead. She flops over the sofa's backrest from behind, wobbly noodle-arms spilling down towards the cushion. "I'm a disaster."
As demonstrated quite immediately by her regular greeting being replaced by an incredibly vocal, drawn-out groan.
"Today was a disaster," she announces to the back of Garnet's head over the sofa's edge, momentarily tempted to just let her backpack drop from her sore shoulders to the floor before remembering her very expensive custom-made laptop, and placing it neatly on the floor instead. She flops over the sofa's backrest from behind, wobbly noodle-arms spilling down towards the cushion. "I'm a disaster."
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Pearl wants this, she repeats to herself. Pearl asked for this. She wants to be what Pearl needs right now. She wants her mistakes to be acknowledged, to have a firm hand acknowledge her mistakes. Garnet wants to be a little kinder, that is her instinct.
It's those contradictions that make her bring her hand first, softly, between Pearl's shoulders. She doesn't caress or massage, simply touches. Makes Pearl aware of where her hand is. She moves it down her back slowly, so Pearl will know where it's going, when it's coming. She follows the slight dip at her waist, then the curve of her behind, and then her hand stops. Not cupping, not kneading, just acknowledging. "Your behavior recently is unacceptable, Pearl."
Garnet feels her chest heavy, her breaths coming a little quicker.
"You were late to school." She raises her hand and brings it back down with a smack. Not too hard, to start, keeping her hand against Pearl to alleviate the initial sting. "You spilled coffee on your boss." Then again. Once more.
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She is coming to realize, suddenly, that there is a very thin line between anticipation and dread.
The words make her flinch before the slap does, and when it finally comes, it's like a surge of electricity up her body -- Pearl lets out a sharp, clipped moan, digging her forehead into the sofa cushion. Then, again-- oh-- even through her jeans, she feels her skin prickle.
Garnet's touch is unhesitant and firm, like everything about her. Her voice is all authority, its usual husky edge seeming to thicken around the words in a way that makes Pearl's toes curl.
But Garnet is strong-- she's stronger than that. She can make this much more than a dull sting, she knows. But Pearl won't ask for it. This is her punishment; she shouldn't get to. If Garnet could see the full severity of her mistakes, then maybe--...
"I-it's unacceptable," Pearl echoes into the sofa, feeling her own breath buzz across the leather and her skin. "I'm a disgrace." Her hips shift, the curve of her spine twisting. "Shameful."
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"Absolutely shameful. You should know better by now," and without thinking, she feels her hand connect harder against Pearl, and even the feel of denim against it stings her palm. It buzzes against her fingertips, this new feeling, and she breathes in sharply. She doesn't wait too long for Pearl's reaction before raising her hand again.
"I expect more from you, Pearl." Her hand connects even harder, and this time her free hand takes hold of Pearl's shoulders to keep her from rocking forward too far.
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Pearl's whole body jolts, the impact rocking her forward on her knees. She trembles with the aftershock, lips parting around a shaky exhale. That. That was... exactly what she wanted. Her head sways, heavy, filled to the brim with the swirling heat of humiliation and guilt and-- and pleasure.
"You're right, I-- hnah--!" The next strike comes faster and harder than she expected, and her teeth clamp down on her lower lip through a moan. It takes her a second to recollect her words, after.
"I d-deserve to be punished."
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"I'll have to think of a good punishment." Her hand still pressed harshly against Pearl, turns and follows the curve of her ass, and Garnet presses her fingers up between her thighs. She moves them against Pearl's jeans, feeling the heat and wetness from her center already. "I need to teach you a lesson."
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Garnet's rubbing against her, the zip of her fly pressing in just so beneath her thumb -- and god help her, Pearl's wet already, the throb between her legs strong enough for her to wonder if Garnet can feel it. Because Pearl can feel it all throughout her body, in her abdomen and in her chest and her fingertips.
She can't believe what this is doing to her.
"Yes," she whimpers, squirming beneath Garnet's touch already -- her body can't help wanting more, even if she knows she doesn't deserve it. But then, it matters little; Garnet is the one to decide. She's hers to do with as she pleases.
The thought makes Pearl shiver.
"Yes, please."
She doesn't even know what it is she's asking for. But whatever Garnet has to give her, she wants.
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Her hand at Pearl's shoulders moves down, and undoes the button of Pearl's jeans rather skillfully. She's had plenty of practice and she was always good at that. This allows her to pull them down, leaving them gathered around Pearl's hips. Then her hand moves up, rubbing over already pinkening skin.
"Lesson one." She doesn't wait for a response before bringing her hand down hard on Pearl again, this time the slap coming out much higher-pitched, as skin hits skin. She feels Pearl's skin react to the hit, and her fingers squeeze at the softness, pulling at, pressing against it as if she wants to shape it into something new. Then her hand moves a little down to push in between Pearl's thighs again, and everything she felt through her jeans is confirmed. Having Pearl's ear this close to her, Garnet leans forward as she moans at the warmth and wetness she finds there.
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Is this okay? Will Garnet allow it?
She doesn't have time to dwell on these worries for long, though, because soon Garnet's hand comes clapping down like thunder against her skin -- Pearl jerks forward again, her moan louder and higher this time. It hurts so much better, nothing to dull the sensation.
Before her body can settle, that hand moves once more, and Pearl's trepidation isn't nearly strong enough to keep her from bucking into it. Garnet's breath is warm in her ear, she's so close, she's sure she can hear and see and feel everything. Every hitch in her breath, every shiver down her spine, every roll of her hips--
Pearl bites the side of her wrist, and tries to keep herself together.
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She plays against Pearl with her fingers, the way Pearl likes; which she has learned through intensive practice. She rubs big circles with two fingers, spiraling until the circles become smaller, more focused. Then she alternates and runs her fingers all along the length of her. Her own breath feels ragged against Pearl's cheek, and the hairs on Pearl's cheek brush and move with each one.
But then she pulls her hand away, to bring it back down with a hard slap against Pearl, and she watches as it ripples through her skin again, her wet fingers producing a very particular, slick sound. Then she rolls them under Pearl again, this time curling them to press ever so slightly into her entrance.
She smiles against Pearl. "You're enjoying this too much, aren't you?"
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The alternation between pleasure and pain, it's tantalizing and it's torturous, the tension in her abdomen sharpening and coiling upwards like a metal wire. Garnet's building her up with a clockwork methodicality, effortlessly, and when she finally asks her that Pearl burns red with shame at her utter failure to conceal it. She's not allowed. She's not allowed...
She plucks her mouth away with a soft, wet pop, gasping as if she's resurfaced above water. "Y-yes," she answers, and her shoulders droop with a strained exhale. Guilty. "I'm sorry."
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"Then it's not real punishment." She pulls her hand away, purposefully making the motion harsh and noticeable, as if pulling it away in disgust. As if that wasn't exactly what she wanted Pearl to say.
"Sit down on the floor," she instructs calmly, her hand, slick with Pearl, coming back to connect against her ass, but this time only hitting.
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"Yes," she answers, coming out surprisingly crisp for the way her voice wavers. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Pearl rises to her feet, then tucks her knees beneath her to sit on the carpeted floor. (Her damp thighs press together in the process, sending a flicker of heat from abdomen to throat, released in a gasp.)
She looks up at Garnet with wide, eager eyes, and waits.
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She purses her lips slightly, and her eyes look Pearl up and down. Her voice is low, yet firm, stable as it usually is, though weighted. "Finish taking your pants off and open your legs."
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It's not your place to ask questions, she reminds herself, gulping through a shiver. Instead, she quietly does as she's told, leaving her pants discarded at her side before shifting -- rather clunkily -- to expose herself to Garnet in full. She's able to look at her face for barely five seconds after that, Garnet's dark gaze coiling hot tendrils around her flesh; it's too much, she has to turn her head away.
"Is th-this all right?"
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Finally, she crosses her arms, looking very sternly at Pearl. "I worry you won't learn anything, if you enjoy it too much." Her hand is still absolutely slick with Pearl, and she slowly wipes her fingers along her forearm. "Maybe using my hands was a mistake."
She slides her foot along the floor slowly, watching Pearl for what she'll do, and raises it just as she reaches Pearl's center, pressing it against her.
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Hard for all of three seconds, at least, until Garnet goes and says that last part. Pearl's body instinctively snaps upright to brace itself, though she hasn't a clue what for, only that distinct prick of honey-dripping dread in her abdomen. And she knows she shouldn't, but she can't help but blurt: "What--"
-- before being cut off by the sound of her own moan. Oh-- oh, oh, that's her foot, the heel of Garnet's bare foot is rubbing over her clit, on their living room carpet, and as mouth-watering gorgeous as the friction is, Pearl can't help but wince.
"Garnet," she whines, "that's dirty," but it's too boneless to serve as any real protest.
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"But it's your punishment, Pearl." Then she brushes her toe gently against Pearl.
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It feels-- weird, nothing like Garnet's fingers and yet still unmistakably Garnet. Her toe is thicker and cruder but works against her with the same effortless familiarity, and god she's been barefoot and this is not remotely sanitary, but look at her greedily bucking her hips up into the contact all the same.
Even with her head tilt back and her eyes screwed shut, Pearl can still feel Garnet's eyes on her, all over. Heat swarms over her skin, alerting her to every micro-reaction of her body: the curling of her toes, the flaring of her nostrils, the taut muscles in her stomach and her chest -- her chest, rubbing up against her summer blouse with the curve of her back, the featherlight friction mercilessly teasing her tight-pinched nipples. (And the fabric's so thin -- she's sure Garnet can see. The whole of her on display.)
"I know," Pearl finds the words at last, scattered between breathless little mewls and gasps. "I deserve this."
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Garnet lets her eyes focus on Pearl's chest, and brings her other foot forward, leaning on the couch seat with her arms for balance, and slips it under the hem of Pearl's light shirt. The rough pads of her feet touch silky soft skin, and her toes tickle against it. She moves it up, the shirt moving with it and pooling around her ankle, revealing more and more of Pearl's skin. She presses the ball of her foot against Pearl's nipple, twisting it ontop of it, toes curling in and out and brushing against hardened skin.
Working with both feet, she presses them and moves them against Pearl, biting her lip and rolling her head to the side.
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"Garnet," she whimpers out, the curve of her spine deepening through a series of shudder-squirms. Against the smooth skin of her stomach she can feel the scratchiness to Garnet's sole much more clearly. It's rough but it tickles and it's so, so humiliating, but Pearl can't break away from it, can't even think to, only trembling beneath the contact like jello on a plate.
Her hands take anchor behind her to keep her from toppling back, forming fistfulls around the fibers in the rug. Her nipples are already so sensitive that the initial contact almost aches, but she pushes herself up into it for more still, eyes closed tightly enough for colors to bloom before her closed eyelids.
Garnet's not saying anything, and Pearl can't see her face. What kind of expression is she making right now? With no tone of voice to guide her, Pearl can only let her imagination roam: Garnet with her brow furrowed by an unmissable half-inch, the corners of her mouth tugged down in disgust; Garnet's eyes glimmering with satisfaction, lips curled up into a lopsided crescent; Garnet with her face a perfect blank, betraying nothing, her stare dark and intent as it bores right into her very core.
"Garnet," she whines again, and this time it's more like a plea. Say something. I need to know.
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"Pearl," her response comes out with that mixture of both, a whisper with a harshness to it almost. She rolls her head to the other side, eyes focused on Pearl.
"I'm glad you realize your mistakes." She pinches Pearl's nipple between her toes, pulling. "Are you going to be better from now on?" She pushes her big toe against Pearl's entrance, feeling her slick heat welcome it.
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"Yes," she gasps out, strained. The throb between her legs spikes up at the sensation, and in that moment all Pearl can think is that she wants Garnet inside, no matter how dirty, no matter how shameful. "I'll do better, Garnet, ah-- I promise. Please."
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She curls her toe, moving it inside Pearl, rubbing the back of her foot against her. "I'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet, even like this. Not yet." She pulls her foot away from Pearl's chest, out from under her shirt. She moves it up, brushing her toes against Pearl's chin, barely touching her bottom lip.
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She squints her eyes open, barely -- pushes herself forward on wobbly arms, to try and straighten up enough to look at Garnet's face. But the pressure of her feet allows Pearl little in the way of latitude, and the only part of her face she can see stretches from forehead to cheekbone.
"How can I--" Her lips move against Garnet's toes with each syllable, producing a strange, ticklish friction, and she presses them together to swallow with a twitch of her nose. "How can I prove to you?"
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Garnet's eyes are half lidded and dark, and they don't leave Pearl's own eyes. She presses her toe against Pearl's closed lips. "Open your mouth."
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