How many times that day had Lena caught the men at work staring? Five? Ten? It was too many for her to ignore, but none of them were up front enough to warrant a rebuke from her. 

Not that she was blaming them for it entirely, either. She knew she looked good — well, she always looked good, she reminded herself — but today was a special one. She wore an A-line skirt that ended just above the knee, four-inch heels, a tight, long-sleeved turtleneck, and she’d pulled her long, thick black hair into a tight french braid. 

She’d woke up that morning looking like a hamster – puffy eyes and cheeks, pushing against her sharp features. Nadine, Lena’s girlfriend, couldn’t do anything but help herself to a few kisses. But Lena decided that she couldn’t let the hamster win – she would win.

And win, she did. She was the sexiest secretary anyone in this office, full of stressed out lawyers and paralegals, overworked and underpaid admin staff, and anyone else unlucky enough to walk in, had seen in a very long time.

The attention was nice, and it made her feel good. She liked being looked at, being appreciated – there was a simple kind of pleasure in that, one that gave a little bit of life to the fire that was rooted deep within her. The arousal was there, a ghost of itself, rubbing along slowly while Lena sat there, legs crossed, curves on full display for anyone who was willing to be bold and sneak a glance at her legs under the desk.

She didn’t think of any of the men, though. Her coworker, Anne, passed, and Lena entertained herself to a harmless thought of stripping the woman and fucking her. She stared off, thinking about how nice it would be – her heart skipped – when she would turn around and Anne, who was nearly 6 feet tall, would turn on Lena’s smaller, 5’4 frame and fuck her in revenge.

And if — a fantasy springing unbidden to her mind — Nadine discovered them somehow? Oh, my, how her lover would do things to her. Probably take them both at the same time. Lena owned a ballgag with two straps, one on each side. Nadine, tall and strong and beautiful Nadine, would tie them down and force the gag on each of their lips (she was wearing red lipstick in this scenario, she decided) before locking the straps in. 

She imagined moaning into it, feeling the large silicone ball pressing against her lips and her tongue, smushing it into the bottom of her mouth while drool dripped down her chin. Filthy. She imagined her arms pinned behind her in a way that was a little painful and incredibly arousing, pressed against her back, her wrists bound back — no, wrapped around her waist with a crotchrope she could pull —  while Anne’s eyes widened, inches from her face, while they tasted each other some more, Anne’s saliva dripping down her mouth and across Lena’s. Was it possible to tie two crotch ropes to one leverage set? Oh, and she decided she was wearing her lacy red lingerie in this scenario. And then, once that was all said and done, Nadine would take the big strapon, the one that was the size of a —

“Lena? Are you there?”

Lena snapped back to reality and to attention. 

“Sorry, thinking about something. What was that?”

An older man, a lawyer named Rick, was looking down at her, impatiently. He was approximately 80% balding, an older man that many of the women said was “silver fox-ish” but Lena never really bought the hype. Either way, she was glad she’d chosen the sweater today, instead of the button-up blouse.

“Can you copy these in the next twenty minutes? We’re closing early so I gotta get these over to Perlman, stat.”

Lena started, still dragging her mind from the annals of her bondage fantasy. “I’m…wait, what? Really?”

Rick pursed his lips. “Yes, Lena. Really. Don’t you check your email?”

“We’ve had a lot of intakes today, so no,” she said, trying to keep the snark out of her voice and failing somewhat. Rick sighed, and she finally saw his eyes rip across her body. He was much more subtle than the others – a quick glance, a flicker of his own imagination, and then done.

“Well, let me be the bearer of good news, then – we’re out in about an hour for an early weekend start. I think the others are going to celebrate the victory in the Camarillo case. If you’re going to take a lunch, I suggest doing it now.”

“Are you going? I thought you were on that.”

“Nah, I’m a teetotaler. I’ll be there for ten minutes and then I’ll probably go hang out with my son and his wife. He’s in town and they want to go to a Nats game.”

“Sounds like fun,” she said, holding out her well-manicured hands. “Papers, I’ll get them settled.”

“Thanks, Lena. Do you have any weekend plans?”

“No, not really,” she lied. In reality, Nadine’s colleague had a boat, and they were going to stay on it for an evening on Saturday. Cocktail party-esque vibes, and she had an incredible blue dress that she was beyond excited to wear. But, that was a lot of explanation, and she didn’t have it in her to start, her brains still scrambled from her threesome fantasy.

“Ah, well, a peaceful day doesn’t hurt. Thanks!” he said, and wandered back to his desk.

She took the stack of papers and thought about it while she strutted to the copier, her phone in hand. 

Hi darling! I’m going to be home early today. What do you want for dinner?

She deleted the message.

Hey! I have the day off, heading home in an hour. How’s your workload?

She didn’t know if that’s how she wanted to let her know. She wanted Nadine to come home. What would she —

An incredible thought bloomed in her mind. She smiled, pushed open the door to the copy room, and closed it behind her.

She flexed her legs, felt the smoothness of her tights along her calves and her waist, felt how much the skirt hugged her curves in just the right way, how good she felt, how excellent it all was. She’d killed it today, and was bursting with confidence. She felt like a queen, a model.

Maybe Nadine deserved to see it, too.

***

The commute back was easy, and she could barely contain herself with excitement, alongside that nervous, burning energy that seemed to seep out of her. She walked the four blocks from her bus stop back to their condo, mercifully in a pair of trainers she brought – the heels were sexy, but brutal for a jaunt.

Their building was nice in an old D.C.-rustic sort of way. Lots of white stone, columns, a plaque for someone so-and-so doing something around the area, typical history nerd stuff. 

Lena hustled up to her apartment, turned the key, and popped it open. It was a nice, spacious place, with a generous den, a nice kitchen, and a large master bedroom through a hallway. The place had 1.5 bathrooms, and the best part? They owned it.

She hunted around, looking for the best spot to do it. 

On the couch? No, the position wasn’t sexy enough. On the kitchen table? Clever, but she didn’t want to clean up after, and it might seem weird to eat with guests there when you bare your whole ass on something. In the closet? Maybe not, after The Dinner Party Incident from six months ago, which still loomed large in her psyche and Nadine’s. But it would be sexy.

She decided her bedroom was the best option — it was the most exciting, the most nerve-wracking, the most time-consuming place to approach. Nadine would hear her long before she saw her.

The first thing Lena did, before anything else, was text Nadine. She’d agonized over the exact wording to promote maximum suspense, but she was never much of a writer.

Hi darling. I have a surprise for you in the bedroom when you get home – I got out early, so I was able to stop somewhere and pick up a new toy for us. Be sure to break it in.

SEND

She barely had to wait two seconds before she heard the DING of a response.

👀

Lena laughed. Another DING.

I can be home in two hours.

More than enough time for it to be ready, she responded. God, she thought, she was batting 1,000 right now. 

The first thing Lena did was slip her heels back on. Nadine didn’t have a foot fetish or anything, but why ruin the ensemble when she picked it out, specifically? What was the whole point of the exercise if not for that?

She laid down on the bed, thinking about what the best position would be. She decided on a spread eagle. But first…

She ran to the kitchen and grabbed a small whiteboard. It had some spare grocery items on it – detergent, kimchi materials, etc. — and Lena erased it with a pang, her system disrupted, but that was fine. This was more important, she thought, consumed by her lust.

Marker cap off, she began to write.

NEW TOY. MUST USE BEFORE PUTTING AWAY.

She stuck that on the top of the bed frame and let it brace against the wall. The frame was iron bars, with a top slat of wood, and the sign fit perfectly. 

Of course, it was necessary. Toys couldn’t speak.

Lena hopped along to their walk-in closet, spacious and full of her wardrobe, and reached behind a couple pairs of boots and pulled out not one, not two, but three big boxes.

The first one, a red one, was full of ropes. Some she’d owned for almost ten years, some she bought last week. She settled on some frayed white ones, and a pair of leather cuffs for her wrists.

In the second box, she rooted around for — perfect, she thought, already feeling wet. A huge panel gag, enough to cover her lips. She didn’t want to show them off — no, her luscious lips would be too distracting if she wanted to be a toy. She grabbed a big, matching blindfold as well. The ball was nearly 3 inches, but she was no amateur, and was confident she could maintain it that long.

Then, in the third, some nipple clamps, and then… the piece de resistance. She grabbed them and hurried back to her bed. A quick look at the clock — about an hour and a half left? Where’d the time gone?

I AM having fun, she thought.

She settled comfortably on the bed and started binding her ankles with rope. Though she was a sub through and through, her hands moved with a practice borne of a decade of work in self-bondage, when she’d had to resort to her own hands to make things work. One ankle went, then the other.

She took a deep breath and pulled at each knot and post – the bed would not move, and that was enough to make her feel hot and wet. She took a deep breath and felt her breasts, relished in that nice electricity as she rubbed against her nipples. She pulled up her sweater – she’d already been bad today, taking off her bra in the copy room and hiding it under her top – and felt each nipple, erect and ready. She pinched – the jolts! – and placed the clamp, tightening them, her fingers shaking with each twist. The pain was low, and wonderful, and she did the same to her other one, letting the chain weigh down. She pulled her sweater down over them – you could barely see them, but by God, if Nadine pulled on them, she might orgasm right then and there.

She started breathing through her nose, trying to stay focused. She had a long way to go.

Then, she took the huge panel gag in her hands. She opened her mouth, rubbed her jaw to massage the muscles. She placed it inside her mouth, slowly, feeling every inch of it as it pressed down on her tongue, behind her teeth, the leather pressing against her lips. She relished in that sensation for a while, gently tugging on her clamps with one hand, feeling her face with one and the leather with the other, before she gently reached her hand down her skirt and touched herself – it came back up soaking wet, the tips of her two fingers covered.

Her excitement heightened as she saw it, felt that tightness in her abs and down between her legs. She took the leather cuffs and placed them around her wrists – a little less exciting, right now – and then put the big leather blindfold on. She’d left some of the dimmer lamps on and closed the shades, casting the room in a dusky shadow, like no one was actually home.

Then, she went ahead and added the last piece – a small, egg vibrator that she inserted between her legs, slowly, with a moan and a groan as she felt them shift up inside her. She gasped, her breath catching, as they started to do their work, massaging the inside of her and buzzing, the feeling extending to the outside. It was set on a morse code setting, at the lowest possible strength, which would climb to another mode higher every so often at random intervals. Just to keep her on her toes, like a good sub.

Then, she mentally did a check, and thought of everything. Satisfied, she snapped the leather cuffs together, her wrists bound behind the bedframe, and started to wait.

She struggled and pulled in excitement on the cuffs, on the ropes, tugging around, trying to get loose. She wanted to feel like a toy, like some new doll for Nadine to play with. She started to sweat. The vibrator did its job, pulsing within her.

Her breath caught, and she moaned into the gag, loudly, but all that came out was a muffled “Mmmmph!” and a stream of drool beneath it soaked her sweater. She could feel the wet material clinging to her breasts, weighing on the clamps, which in turn, pulled on her nipples while the vibrator brought her to the brink of orgasm and pulled her back, holding her hostage on the precipice.

Suddenly, an hour seemed like a very long time.