#I'm just a silly little enby sharing my thoughts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

giftcard-giveway2024 · 11 months ago

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A cute guy likes me on a dating app. After chatting with them for weeks, we decide to go on a date. They are very flirtatious and forward over the app, but not when we meet in person. He admits he thought I was transmasc like him, we laugh about it because his mistake is funny and means I'm not passing but in a silly backwards way. I think his sudden awkwardness in person may be nervousness and flirt with him in ways less forward and aggressive than he'd been flirting with me earlier, and they become cold and distant for the rest of the date. By the time I get home they've blocked me on the app we met on. This case of being mistaken as a transmasc on a dating app will happen 3 more times, and in 2/3 times it results in a similar sudden lack of interest where once they were coming on to me. None of these people will be cis.

I am in a self defense class for queer people, learning hand to hand combat as a community. I have been here months. I notice I'm the only transfem in the classes but there are other trans people there so I don't think much of it. Today I have some stubble as I did not have time to shave before the early morning class. When discussing unrealistic action movie and anime fight scenes I describe on of my favorites, quoting the lines as I pantomime the goofy moves. They smile and laugh along until the word bitch leaves my lips in one quote, then the bisexual woman who only ever they/thems me glares at me like I've committed a grevious crime, and the rest of the class looks at me like a freak in awkward silence for a moment before moving on. I learn bitch is not a word a clocky bitch can "reclaim". I am quiet in classes now, and when I go I focus primarily on the training, when I see other trans women try it out they often give me a sad look and do not return for a second class. I get a sinking feeling that if I ever use this training to save my life one day I'd be branded a violent man instead of a strong woman.

I am texting with a good friend of years who was one of the people who helped me realize I was trans like them and even the one who helped pick out my name loves talking about our shared interests and sharing their favorite smut with me. We bond over favorite stories, artists, characters, and kinks as well as our trans experience. Yet they constantly tell me they could never date someone who's AMAB because of the trauma of being "female socialized" and their genital preferences for vulvas. Every compliment they have ever given me on my appearance or outfit is followed up by "but in a non-sexual way, I could never date you". Today I finally have the courage tell them they don't need to say that every time. They ignore this response. We keep talking for awhile, but they start taking months to respond to my messages and respond with a short sentence at most. They no longer share details about their life and shut me out when I ask or share details about mine, even the most mundane and chaste details. I stop talking to them. A birthday gift I bought them months before this falling out happened looms at me in my closet. I cannot use it as it doesn't fit me but can't bring myself to throw it away, just in case we reconcile one day. I feel pathetic for craving friendship with someone who sees me as "abuser-bodied", that so much of my early stages would've been impossible without their help. I feel a little more lost without them.

I am at a queer/trans/enby kink dance party with some friends. I am scantily clad and wearing a skirt and high heeled boots. I do not pass well so this space is one of the few places I feel safe and free dressing like this. It is packed with queer and trans people just like me engaged in delightful debauchery and wearing very little. The music hurts my ears but I'm happy to be here, I feel overstimulated but alive and authentic. I am approached by a beautiful stranger from across the dance floor, she is graceful and stylish, like some modern Galadriel clad in leather, white lace, and industrial piercings with impeccable voice training. She compliments my outfit, I compliment hers. She tells me I need to shave my armpits if I want to look like a real woman. My two friends stand up for me and yell at her. They assure me she was just being an asshole, that women were supposed to be hairy, but I can't help but notice how both of them have hairy armpits and yet the "advice" targeted me. The wide range of bodies that people here tonight find desirable on cis women don't seem to apply to the women like me. I am the only one of us that doesn't go home with a hookup at the end of the night. I realize now she likely spoke from experience. I am still hurt by her words, but realizing the kinds of experiences she must have had herself to feel her words were kind advice hurts far worse.

A local queer photographer who's work I follow is looking for women & non-binary models for a photoshoot. I have become comfortable with getting photos taken of me for the first time in my life since my egg cracked, and had a few small time modeling gigs under my belt. With something like this I could actually have the beginnings of a portfolio. I reach and am told that they are not looking for trans women models, "only women and AFABs". Getting the same line I get from agencies from an independent queer photographer repackaged in "woke" terminology stings. I see many queer and nonbinary models I looked up to take part in the shoot. I have to wonder if they knew that the photographer's definition of woman didn't include trans women, or if like me in my martial arts class they noticed no transfems were there but didn't think much of it because there were other trans people there.

It is years ago and I am still an egg. I am with my partner of 4 years. I am exhausted after a long day. She asks me for sex in the voice that I know means saying no will hurt her. I learned from her long ago men have high and insatiable sex drives, therefore saying no meant I wanted to have sex, just not with her. So I say yes. The sex is painful and unsatisfying, and I simply do my best to thrust through the discomfort until she cums. I feel numb and hurt. She enjoys herself but seems sad I did not cum. I assure her I love her. When we hold eachother after my obligation has been met and I finally feel comfortable and safe. We begin talking. She talks about the trashy women she saw on the street today, describing their cringe outfits and ugly styles and bad hair. All the styles and clothes and hair I yearn to try myself in my deepest and most repressed desires. I change the subject and ask her about work and family. She asks if I'd still love her if she were a man and I say yes. She says she would still love me if I were a woman. Something in that statement feels like a lie. It is months later when we break up and I move out. Now that I am a woman I look back and know from our years together that if I were a woman then she'd hate the kind of woman I'd become. That if I were a woman she'd still have the same expectations of me as a man, that her refusal of sex equated an impersonal not being in the mood but my refusal of sex equated a cruel refusal of love.

A lesbian group begins organizing a queer woman's strip night event. A safe place for amateur performers to shine and women to perform and enjoy sexuality away from the male gaze. I see no transfems in the promotional material or leadership team, and I've learned not to think nothing of it just because there are other trans people there. I do not go.

I am talking with my therapist. They are trans too and an amazing therapist, often providing insights and advice only someone else with the lived experience of being trans can. I express distress and suicidal ideation at the fact I feel like I need to pass before I can dress the way I want. That until I get expensive hair removal procedures and FFS I can never feel safe and welcome presenting authentically. I lament how these things are expensive and may never be accessible to me. They tell me I need to deal with my "internalized transphobia", as if these feelings aren't a result of constant rejection and othering by external forces even within queer spaces. As if the scrap of womanhood others sometimes acknowledge in me does not rely on their perceptions of me.

There is a publication accepting works from trans people of all stripes to document trans experiences. It gets flamed for not having a single transfem as a contributor. The people behind it apologize profusely, they say didn't notice no transfems had sent work in and would do a sequel publication that was transfem-centric. I wonder if anyone had noticed there were no transfems but didn't think much of it because there were other trans people there. I think about the kinds of spaces I've seen like that, and the implications it has about how they treat transfems, and I am unsurprised no transfems submitted.

One of my closest friends for years is very supportive of me when I first begin crossdressing and experimenting with they/them pronouns. She gives me suggestions on cute clothes to wear and takes me shopping as well as asks for pictures. We had helped eachother discover we were both queer as young teens, come to terms with it, and navigate it in a hostile environment, so I have complete trust. We are close enough we are frequently asking eachother advice on serious life choices & relationships, sending nudes for critique + tips before sending them to our partners, and sharing our most secret and vulnerable moments. She often asks me for tips on getting her straight boyfriends into pegging and crossdressing that make me slightly uncomfortable but I don't mind, she is a loyal friend I would endure a great many discomforts for. I host a lunch for us one day, and come out to her as a trans woman. I tell her my new name, say I no longer use he/him pronouns, and thank her for her support on my journey thus far. She launches into a monologue about how by changing my name I am throwing away all our memories together and spitting in the face of my family. Taken aback by her sudden heel turn after being so supportive of me being nonbinary and GNC, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom to get a break and give her some time to process. When I am in the bathroom trying not to cry, she is on the phone. I overhear her misgendering me as she is talking about me being bisexual in a frightened voice. She sounds truly afraid that I intend to be sexually violent towards her. When I leave the bathroom and sit back down I pretend not to have heard. She gets off the phone, saying she was just chatting with her boyfriend. We talk a bit longer, she explains how "the surgery" is dangerous and experimental and she hopes I won't get it. I assure her I won't and do my best to change the subject and hope she comes around after some time to process things, hurt and shocked that what I saw as a natural shift in the path I was already on marked me as frightening in her eyes after knowing eachother for over a decade. That a fellow bisexual suddenly saw my bisexuality as dangerous now that I was asserting myself as a trans woman. I say goodbye to her, and she says goodbye to me using my deadname, I do not risk an argument to correct her. It is months after the meeting we have not seen eachother since and she has not responded to any messages I sent. After reflecting on her reaction further I decide that I don't really want to spend time with someone who thinks these things about me for my own safety and mental health, regardless of our history. A friend of 14 years who supported my queerness and transness gone the instant I crossed an intangible woman-shaped line that marked me as a predator and invader in her eyes.

I log online and day after day see trans women getting banned and harassed. Seeing baseless callout posts calling them groomers and abusers getting taken seriously by other queer and trans people. Seeing proof that deep down so many people I consider kindred spirits see me and people like me as worthy of intense scrutiny and policing to keep "the queer community" safe and united. The blocklist grows but everything stays the same. I treasure the people in my life who don't take part in this and would do anything for them, but it seems they get fewer each time.

I'm not making this post to seek sympathy, I am used to this kind of shit and far worse has happened to myself and others. I just make this to illustrate transmisogyny is not some "online-only" issue like people claim. Even if online issues weren't "real" (as healed is fond of saying, "online is real") this has tangible effects in the way trans women are treated offline as well. By communities, friends, partners, colleagues, systems, etc. That's why we talk about it.

So much of the discussions people have paint transmisogyny as some online oppression olympics maliciously trying to divide the community, smear transmascs, and "reinvent bioessentialism". That is not what it is about. Discussions about transmisogyny is about how we are treated for being what we are, and while related to transphobia and misogyny it is seperate because it often represents doors other trans people and women can walk through that transfems cannot. It has affected me in my most intimate moments when I was with other trans and queer people I felt safe around, and taught me that I need to carefully manage my persona and presentation at all times lest my authenticity be branded "male socialization". I am even terrified to express attraction to people who express attraction towards me because I'm so used to being treated like a predator upon reciprocating or being used and abandoned by people I trusted. I am terrified to be too excited about shared interests with friends lest I be too loud or talkative about it and branded with aggressive male socialization. So I make myself quiet and small, and shrink from the community and people I care about, and become more and more isolated.

Anyways, stop platforming anons who spread lies about trans women, stop hopping on TERF harassment campaigns because the trans gal they're smearing "gave you bad vibes", and maybe consider carefully if in your own life where you draw the line for a transfem's behavior is any different from where you'd draw the line for anyone who's not one

#the owl house #across the spiderverse #succession #welcome home #wally darling #the mandalorian #ted lasso #taylor swift #super mario #star wars

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minniecostello · 1 year ago

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Zero-G

This is a story I've been sitting on for a while but I'm ready to share it.

Summary: two lovers find time to enjoy their off shift aboard a space station in a distant star system. They take advantage of the low gravity environment to explore an antique power dynamic.

Notes: this is silly, kinky t4t smut, heavily interspersed with world building for an anarcho-futurist sci-fi setting I use in other stories.

Jules floated by themselves near the transparent dome of the OSS Lina Stern's dorsal observatory. They had just gotten off a very long shift, and the station coordinator was taking their first free moment in 60 kiloseconds to bathe in the light of the alien star. Even though Jules had spent nearly half a billion seconds on ships and stations hundreds of lightyears from their home system, the color of whatever local star they orbited always seemed odd; the OSS Lina Stern was currently orbiting the second planet orbiting around both stars in a binary system, and the way the light of the blue star filtered through the gas cloud that was just a few light seconds closer in than their station always looked a little sickly to Jules. But despite the odd coloration, sunbathing under any star always soothed them.

This particular observation deck was Jules' favorite, partly because it almost always had a good view of the larger red star, but mostly because, in addition to being one of the few rooms in the station where the simulated gravity could be turned off, it was the least used observatory. Far from the crew quarters, and lacking most of the scientific equipment needed by this particular deep space mission, most of the station's inhabitants had little reason to spend time there. Jules often thought of it as their own inner sanctum, a private place for them to think and relax

That's why the tinkling door chime startled them so much they lost their balance and got sent tumbling across the empty space to gently thump against the expansive window.

Untangling their limbs, they shouted, "Come in," across the room to whomever it was that interrupted their quiet meditation. Jules heard the rushing air sound of the door opening and closing, and they saw the red-headed pilot Raysa pushing off from the door frame with her legs, correcting her vector with a quick burst of compressed air from a tube connected to a small canister on her leg, and landing softly next to them on the dome.

"You seem to be having trouble with the gravity here, Cap'n." Raysa said, offering a hand to help the struggling enby put their limbs in the proper place and get control over their spin.

"Captain? What do you think this is, a pirate ship sailing the high seas, going off to steal Spanish gold?" Jules asked the newcomer, poking fun at her antique language. The role of ship's captain hadn't been filled by anyone in generations, Shift Facilitators untangled that kind of hierarchic bullshit. But Jules might've been the closest thing there was to a modern ‘captain’, coordinating resources and operations on the station.

"Are you really gonna make it that easy for me? You're practically begging for a 'pirate's booty' joke." Jules swatted Raysa's hand away before she pinched their bottom.

"And you're just asking to walk the plank." Jules gave Raysa a playful hip check that sent Jules floating away from the dome on a somewhat uncontrolled vector, then Raysa pushed off to follow them. Jules called out, "Do you have another one of those canisters? I lost my grip on my tether when you came in."

"I wondered what that cord was for,” Raysa reached them. “Why didn't you take a canister when you came in?"

"I usually don't need them, the cord gets the job done well enough, and I don't usually have to move around that much."

"OK, here's a better question: what were you doing here in the first place?"

Jules and Raysa came to a stop with a burst from Raysa's air canister and curled up, almost like they were sitting, as they floated in the 0-gravity.

"I like to come here to get away sometimes, especially after a long shift."

Cocking an eyebrow, Raysa asked, "Get away? From who?"

"People. It can be draining, coordinating a whole station. I'm just glad it's not a transport hub."

"Aww, you weren't trying to get away from me now, where you?" Raysa pouted a little when she asked this, putting emphasis on the word 'me' by raising her voice half an octave.

"Were you asking for anything at all during the last forty five k-secs? If so, then yes." Jules slumped their shoulders and put their head in Raysa's lap. It doesn't escape their notice that Raysa's jumpsuit is a little lower than it was when she floated in.

"I might've, but Jules," Raysa put her hand on their chest and looked into their eyes. "You weren't trying to get away from me, were you?" This time, Raysa's voice dropped an octave when she emphasized the word. Before Jules responded, Raysa's hand moved to slowly unzip the front of Jules' off-duty jump suit, exposing their soft, brown skin.

Jules' mouth made a small 'o' shape when they realized what Raysa meant before they stuttered over their words, "N... no, ma'am... I... I'd never..."

"Of course you wouldn't, because you know how upset that'd make me, and you don't want that, do you... Captain?" Raysa slipped a hand under the Operations Green top they were wearing and started tracing delicate swirls along Jules' skin with the tips of her fingers, moving slowly along their chest. Shudders went down Jules' back whenever she grazed one of their sensitive, rapidly hardening nipples.

"I wouldn't dream of it, ma'am." Jules stared up into Raysa's face, into her eyes, and they could see a change; Raysa was always so gentle and kind, her gaze soft, except when she took Jules for herself.

Hierarchies had been abolished generations ago. No one person had any authority over another, except when one was clearly more well versed on a subject, like a scientist teaching a course to students. The scientist had information, and was granted the deference and respect they'd earned for their work in the field, but that gave them no special privileges over their students. Even on a ship, where it was once that the ship's captain had absolute authority to command the ship as they willed, now major decisions were made by the crew as a whole, or by an elected council, and day-to-day operations were orchestrated by a coordinator, who had no inherent power over anyone else, they were often simply skilled at organizing large operations. But even though society had moved past the conflict and violence of vertical hierarchy, in a world where everyone is equal to everyone else, some things are more primal. Some things, like the way Raysa looked at Jules in the dorsal observatory of the OSS Lina Stern.

That look, the lizard-brain possessiveness was plainly visible in the redhead's eyes, and was all Jules needed to get over their tiredness from their long shift. Jules moaned softly as Raysa's hanging chest brushed against their face as she leaned forward to unzip their jumpsuit down to the waist, just above Jules' groin, where they could feel their underpants moisten.

Jules tried to give Raysa's bosom gentle kisses as she moved back into a sitting position, but when she felt the touch of their lips through the fabric of her own jumpsuit, she sat up quickly, pinching hard on the dark brown nipple she was gently caressing a moment ago. “Not until I tell you to, Mine.”

After a moment, she releases her hold. "I know you only wanted to show your devotion though, didn't you?"

"Of course, ma'am, just to serve you."

Jules felt a slight pressure in the back of their head as Raysa looked hungrily down their body, their slight build, the delicate bump between their legs. Being objectified was an odd feeling for Jules; the exploitative pornography from Before had been relegated to very specific history books, and it was rare for someone to be appraised the way Raysa was appraising them.

"You may get your chance to do just that, Mine. But first, I need to get ready." Raysa pushed her submissive out of her lap and released a jet of air, propelling her to the wall by the door. "I had been planning something for you that used this room, and it was a stroke of luck that you were here waiting for me." Raysa picked up a bag that she had left by the door.

Jules spun around by flailing their arms, trying to ‘swim’ through the air. Seeing Raysa launch herself towards them, they asked, "What's in the bag, Love?"

"Oh, just something I had requisitioned a few dozen k-secs ago." Raysa's rye smile evoked a scowl from her sub. Jules was about to make a comment to protest being teased, but before they could form the words, Raysa's lips were pressed against theirs, her left hand pulling them deeper into the kiss. Closing their eyes, they lost all thoughts of protest. Feeling their Mistress's tongue explore their mouth, feeling her hand run through their short hair, biting their lip as she pulled away, several other thoughts were lost as well.

When Raysa's teeth released their bottom lip, a shudder went through Jules’ body, and Jules floated limply in her arms. The force of Raysa's push from the wall had made the pair rotate slowly, such that when she pulled away, all Jules could see was the blazing halo of the red star shining through Raysa's long red hair, pulled free from its binding, floating out like tongues of fire in the 0-g.

"Now are you going to do only what I tell you from now on, Mine?" Awestruck by the view, and still numb from the kiss, Jules could only nod. Raysa's hand caressed down Jules face until her palm rested on their cheek. She gently opened their lips with a thumb and pushed it inside, encouraging them to suck on it, to get their lips ready for when they would have to part for more sensitive parts of her body. Jules knew this was what she was doing, and they loved it. They let out a deep, pleasured moan as her thumb began thrusting in and out. "That's good to hear." Raysa pulled her thumb out and down, pulling Jules mouth open by their lower lip and leaned in to kiss them again before floating gently away with a puff of air that just reached Jules' chest and made their nipples perk up again.

"Take off the rest of your jumpsuit." Raysa jetted behind her already half-naked enby so she could take out whatever she had in her bag unseen. Jules shot a concerned look at the unlocked door, afraid that someone might walk in on the pair engaged in private-quarters-only activities, but quickly looked away and started to slowly remove the jumpsuit from their legs, sticking their ass out the way they knew Raysa liked; however it was too late, Raysa saw the concern in their movements. "Aww, are you worried that someone will walk in and catch us fucking? It's not like people don't know, we share a suite."

"I'm worried people will see us, because all of the details of our sex life don't need to be known."

"Do you think anyone will think less of you for being a sub? What, did we travel back to the 20th century?" Raysa stuck out her tongue and flew over to the door to enter the command to lock the door. "I know exhibition is a hard line, don't worry. I requested the room be assigned private to us for a bit anyway, no one's coming." Raysa pushed off to give Jules a flyby kiss on the cheek.

"Unless you let me," Jules smiled weakly, and Raysa groaned loudly.

"Bring your ass over here, I need to punish you for that." Obediently, the underwear-clad Jules bent themselves to present their bottom as best they could. Floating over to them, Raysa wrapped her left arm around the small waist of their sub and pulled them close. Raysa let out a small grunt of appreciation as she took a handful of buttock in her right hand before pulling back and slapping hard enough to elicit a yelp from Jules, who thought they had steeled themself for the blow but clearly didn't realize how hard Raysa was going to hit them.

Raysa put her fingers against the warm, moist bottom of Jules’ underwear, getting more surface of the fabric wet. She pushed a finger deeper, spreading open their labia, getting Jules even hotter than they were already. Raysa pulled her finger out, leaving a bit of the fabric still inside, and pulled her hand back and delivered another sharp smack to their bottom, this time on the other cheek, eliciting another yelp.

"That will teach you to pun. Now let's get these off you," Raysa slipped three fingers under the elastic waistband and quickly pulled the dampened underpants over their rear end then with less speed down their legs. Letting go and floating slightly away, Raysa enjoyed the sight of the now fully-naked enby. Their light brown skin was mostly smooth, with a small tuft of curly black hair between their firm pectoral muscles. Jules was very clearly aroused, and Raysa thinking about what she would do with that arousal brought a warmth to her own groin, like she knew Jules felt. Jetting around behind Jules, Raysa got a good view of their ass, tight as the rest of their body, it practically called out to be grabbed and held and squeezed and smacked and bit. She would have all the time she wanted with them. With this beautiful person who was Hers.

The idea that someone could own another being was beyond archaic. It was like the idea of eating another being, knowing that it could feel pain. The idea that someone could own a human was the most aggressively fought against ideas during the first wave of the revolution, soon followed by the idea of owning any being no matter the species. Generations and generations of people lived in a world where knowing that owning a person was disgusting and impossible was as common as knowing that humans need oxygen to live. But that didn't change the way they both felt in the observatory. It was odd to feel a sense of ownership over a person, but nonetheless, right at that moment, both Raysa and Jules had the feeling, no the knowledge, that Jules belonged to Raysa, that they were hers in mind and body, and the two of them were both ecstatic about that.

“Do you trust me, Jules?” Raysa was floating right behind them, putting her hands on their waist, and slowly pulled them in different directions along their torso as she waited for a response.

“Of course Raysa, you know that.” Jules always felt comfortable and safe in their mistress’ arms. The feeling of her breasts against them, her hard nipples poking them through her jumpsuit, all served to get them more excited for what she had in store.

“And you'll do whatever I say?” Raysa's right hand that had reached down between Jules’ legs started tenderly stroking their lips.

Jules could feel themself getting wetter as one of Raysa's fingers pushed its way inside them, causing them to let out an extended moan. “Mmm, always, mistress.”

Raysa kissed Jules on the cheek and slowly pulled out her finger. She stuck her tongue out so that Jules could see it in the faint reflection of the two of them in the dome when she sucked her finger clean, then wiped it on Jules’ pubic hair, then reached out to grab something floating by them. “Then I want you to hold still, Mine.” Raysa grabbed their left arm in one hand and started to wrap it in a length of rope, what she must've pulled out of her bag. She caught their right leg in another loop of rope and easily tied the limbs together. Jules had maybe a dozen centimeters between their hand and foot. They moved their other hand behind their back and bent their leg in anticipation of Raysa's wishes. She pulled another rope from the air around them and looped it around Jules’ wrist and ankle and tied the new knot to the first one she tied. Jules felt a brief burst of panic when they realized they could be hurt if they were sent floating a little too fast into a wall, but quickly put that thought out of their mind, knowing Raysa wouldn't let that happen. They were her responsibility when she made them so vulnerable, and she always took good care of them. Then, after getting over the fear of injury, their helplessness turned them on, far more than they had been even when Raysa started to fill them with her fingers.

A smile crept across Raysa’s soft, round face when she tugged gently on the handle she made in the rope tying the deliciously exposed Jules, making sure they were bound tightly. She was briefly tempted to skip the period of teasing she had planned, but knew that by making them both wait, she would make the feeling of release so much better for her and Jules. Especially for Jules, who would soon be reduced to her quivering fucktoy by the waiting they would have to endure. “How does that feel, Mine? Not too tight?”

“No, ma'am, not at all.” Jules flexed their hands and feet to show they weren't losing circulation anywhere.

“Are you ready for the next part of your outfit?” Unsure of what to expect, Jules simply responded “yes, ma'am” to the open space in front of them.

After reaching out to the bag for a third time, Raysa grabbed the sides of Jules’ head from the back, kissed the top of their head, and slipped a blindfold over their eyes, shutting out all of the light from their eyes. Not a single photon got through the mask that was perfectly molded to fit over Jules’ eyes and top of their nose. Nothing, not the artificial light of the observatory wall lamps or the light of a single star a thousand light years away reached their retinas. Jules could hear their mistress’ breathing, feel the warmth radiating from her soft body, and… was that perfume? How far in advance did Raysa prepare? The dramatic loss of their sight made Jules’ breath quicken and their pulse raced, but the warmth of Raysa's body was reassuring. They had tried sensory deprivation before, but this was different. Before, they were tied to a bed, or allowed to stand, once they were even left floating in a pool of water at a private kink club on Earth. Either way, they couldn’t feel which way was down and how balanced they were. Normally, the lack of gravity was a calming sensation for Jules. But the combination of not being able to see anything and not having any reference point for their inner ear made Jules feel scared and euphoric, almost like the first time they smoked pot, on Mars with a group of Robinsonists. That was also the first night they met Raysa, and the first night they had ever been tied up…

After a brief pause, Raysa asked, “Can you tell me which way you are facing?”

“I think I was facing the dome before, and I don't think I've moved that much, so still the stars?”

“You have an annoyingly good sense of direction. Let's see,” Raysa started to roll them in the air, “If we can fix that. Now where are you facing?”

“If I'm lucky, that warmth by my face is your breath and not a far--” Raysa cut Jules off by pushing their forehead hard enough to send them spinning, and left them to spin along two axes for a little too long before grabbing their shoulders to stop them. “Now I'm dizzy and lost. Is that what you were going for?”

“Yes, it was. Now I'm going to let you float for a little bit. In silence. You remember the safe-gesture for when you can’t talk?” Jules responded by extending her thumb, index and pinky fingers. “Very good. Now I’ll leave you in your silence.”

Jules opened their mouth and was about to ask why they needed the gesture instead of the safeword when Raysa took the opportunity their open mouth provided to put something hard in their mouth. So that was why they needed it. Jules pushed their tongue forward to feel their gag; it was a ball gag. And it wasn’t the small one. Raysa fastened the gag’s strap around their head and whispered into their ear “Good job, Mine. I know this one isn’t always easy to get on.” Raysa kissed their cheek and pushed away.

The last thing Jules heard was the hiss of air from Raysa's air hose as she jetted away. And after that, they were alone in space. Floating adrift in zero gravity, completely helpless and unprotected. They set the observatory to be a few degrees cooler than the station ambient when they went in right after their shift, and now they were vaguely regretting that. Without the protection of their uniform, the cold enveloped them. Their nipples, already hard from arousal, grew even harder in the cold and goosebumps started growing on their skin.

As they floated, it got harder to keep track of time. If they were standing, they could at least figure out how long it had been by their legs getting tired, but now, floating in that absolute darkness, barely even spinning, there was no way to tell how long it had been. Hell, they had no way of knowing if Raysa was even still there. She wouldn't abandon them like this, would they? She could be cruel, but never like that; it was always the fun kind, the kind that involved ropes and sometimes that antique riding crop. No, Raysa was still in the room. Of course, that was only speculation, there was no way to be sure. They could start making noise, but Mistress had said they should be silent, and Jules didn't want to disobey her. She made a point of demanding silence when she wanted it, gag or no.

But what if no one was there?

No. Mistress was there. The only problem was how long had they been tied up? And how much longer would she want them to float?

The cold felt like it was getting worse. Was Raysa turning down the heat? Oh shit was she directing cold air at them? It felt like they were moving slightly. A very slight rotation from the air current until… oh… Jules couldn’t help but gasp. That little air current hadn't been moving Jules themself, it had been moving around them. It had been moving until it was pointed directly at their clit. Raysa clearly wanted to do more than wait. Jules could feel themself getting wetter. They could feel themself getting wet enough that it felt like it was starting to pull away from them in the 0-g. Wait, that might be dangerous, what equipment got left out? It was probably nothing to worry about, Raysa knew how to keep a space clean.

Now, finally, they had some external way to tell the passage of time. It wasn't much, but the constant stream of cold air blowing onto their pussy helped a lot; they never reached climax from the air, but they had spent a lot of their time tied up with Raysa being edged. They had learned to time the waves of approaching orgasm -- once, Raysa even suspended them in front of a chrono projection while she edged them, as if she was trying to train them to be able to time their orgasms. Maybe that's what she had been doing…

Time passed, and the constant flow of air was Jules’ only external input. They had no idea how long they had the cold air blowing on their clit, constantly teasing them in its consistency. After an unknown period of time, there was finally a change: the air started to move. It was just a few degrees, but Jules could tell the air was coming from a different direction. Then the air started to rotate ever so slightly around their vulva, blowing along their lips, just brushing their rear, then back down the other side, resting on their clit at the end of a cycle. It would've been a great way to tell time, if only it had been consistent in its rotational period. The air’s circuit around their groin was never the same speed twice, and eventually the simulation overwhelmed Jules and they had to put it aside in their mind, but it could never go so far as to not elicit a quiet whimper every time it blew harder on their clit.

What seemed like it must have been a hundred kiloseconds had passed before Jules felt a change in their external stimuli. They had tried to keep track of time with the feeling of the air, but eventually they lost count and resigned themself to floating, enveloped by the feeling of inching towards an explosive orgasm. But Raysa hadn’t said they were allowed to cum, they realized. Fuck. It wasn’t a matter of arousal, but permission. Shit. How could they have almost forgotten? Now they weren’t sure they could cum even if Raysa put her whole damn forearm inside them, past her elbow.

More time passed. Jules definitely had no idea how long they had been floating. They could feel a bit of drool falling out of their mouth past the gag, but that had been the only big change since the air started. At one point it started to get warmer and Jules thought it was Raysa coming towards them, but then the air got much colder and they had to stop themself from whimpering at the rapid change. Their thighs were thoroughly soaked, and Jules started to wonder what Raysa had planned.

Suddenly, the air cut off and Jules felt a warm presence in front of them. “Are you enjoying yourself, Mine?” Raysa patted Jules’ chin with a cloth hankie, wiping away their drool. Was she going to take off their gag? Or were they supposed to answer with it still in? Or did she forget it was there? Jules started to make a sound before Raysa realized her mistake, chuckled, then reached her hands around Jules’ head to undo the gag. As she did, she pressed her chest against Jules face and they could feel that she had started to unzip her jumpsuit; they felt the cold, hard zipper against their chin and the warm, soft skin of her breasts against their cheeks. She pulled them up, took out the gag, and wiped their mouth with her hankie. “Whoops. Now that you can talk, are you enjoying yourself, Mine?”

What Jules tried to say was “yes, mistress,” but what came out of their mouth was closer to “mehmlbessess,” followed by “uesmblmlm.” Their throat, sore from 60 ksecs of shouting down corridors to engineers who kept forgetting that they couldn't use the Stern’s comm system when updating said system, and their jaw, numb from being forced open with a gag for what was closer to one and a half kiloseconds, would not cooperate with their attempts to form words. After a few more attempts at forming words that only resulted in nonsensical syllables that only succeeded at making Raysa laugh, Jules just nodded.

Raysa kissed them on the forehead then asked, “so tell me, what do you think we're going to do next?” Jules shook their head and grunted “mm-mm.” They knew Mistress was just teasing them, and they weren't going to give her the satisfaction.

“Aww, you're gonna play that game, are you? Why not just tell me what you think is gonna happen?” Jules just shook their head; their mouth was still too numb and they knew it. “Well that's too bad. Maybe we should just leave the fun where it's at?” At this, Jules started to shake their head quickly back and forth, trying to say “no,” getting the syllable right a few times.

“Well then, I guess we'll have to figure out what's next, won't we?” Jules nodded excitedly at this, and looked where they thought Raysa was floating. “Since you won't talk, I guess I'll have to list what could happen and see if you think that's what will. Do you think… that I'm going to tickle you?” Jules shook their head.

Floating around Jules with a soft air burst, Raysa stopped with her left hand resting on her sub’s thigh, the other the small of their back. “Do you think I'm going to slap your ass until it's red?” Raysa pinched their rear end, causing Jules to jump and grunt “uh-uh.” They smacked their lips and stuck out their tongue in an attempt to reset their voice. “No.”

“Oh you're talking to me again. So tell me then Mine, do you think I'm going to run my hands all over your body?” Raysa slowly moved her right hand from Jules’ bottom up their back, caressing their smooth skin.

Jules sighed with pleasure, “Mmmmaybe.”

“Where would my hands be going? Up or down?”

“Up.”

“Good guessing so far, Mine. You just spent the last kilosecond having fun with the drone between your legs, I can't have you getting too tired out.” Jules felt their mistress’ hands trace the contours of their body. The hand on their back crept along their spine, the hand on their thigh went to their other side and rubbed along their belly. Raysa's grip wasn't strong enough to push them in the low gravity, but they could tell Raysa was moving towards their head. Was she upside down? The way her hands were moving, it felt like her face was floating towards theirs, but of course there was no real way to know unless Mistress took off their blindfold.

As Jules tried to orient themself to Mistress’ movements, Raysa kept moving her hands along their body. Gently scratching their back with one hand, caressing around their belly button with the other. The pressure on their back lifted for a moment when Raysa couldn't move her hand any higher because of how she tied Jules arms behind their back, but quickly returned to their task of exploring their body. Her hands moved higher, one between their shoulder blades, the other tracing patterns on their chest. Feeling Raysa's hands on their flat chest, Jules couldn't help but imagine what Raysa's far more ample bosom would look when she took off her jumpsuit. Her breasts would definitely float in the 0-g; the real question is, would the sight be sexy or comedic? Maybe Raysa would take off their blindfold to let them see, even if they wouldn't be allowed to caress her body like she was doing to them.

“So, Mine, what do you think is going to happen next?” Pulled out of their reverie, Jules let out a squeak when Raysa's gentle caressing of their chest turned into a very sharp pinch around one very erect nipple. “Do you think I'm going to keep pulling on you like this?” Raysa yawed, moving her hand from one nipple to the other, and her hand from their back to the one she just released. “Do you think I'm going to keep pulling on your tits like this?” Jules started to breathe faster. They let out a cry when Raysa pinched her fingers even harder. Eventually they managed to say “no mistress!”

Immediately, the pressure released. “Oh, well why didn't you say so sooner?” Jules gaped, open-mouthed at their mistress. “Well I guess we'd better keep figuring out what's going to happen next, right Mine? So… Do you think I'm going to untie you now?”

“No, mistress.” Jules hoped that wasn't the end.

“Then, do you think I'm going to kiss you now?”

“Yes I do, mistress.” Jules’ lips parted slightly in anticipation.

“Where? Am I going to kiss your pussy? Or am I just going to eat it? It is quite close to my face.” Before Jules had a chance to respond, they felt the warmth of Raysa's lips pressing softly against their pubic mound.

“No, I don't think you'll kiss me there.”

“Then am I going to spend the time kissing your belly?” Again before Jules could respond, Raysa kissed them, pressing her lips softly against their belly button. Jules shimmied against their restraints at the sensation, it felt good despite the way it tickled them. “Is that a ‘yes, I do think you’ll keep kissing my belly’?”

“It might be.”

“I guess you'll have to wait and find out, won't you?” Raysa kissed Jules’ belly again, just above their belly button. Then again, she kissed them just above the last kiss. And again, and again and again. She kept kissing them higher and higher along the peach fuzz of happy trail until she started moving her kisses to the right, pressing her lips against their chest, making slow work towards one of their nipples. As her kisses reached beneath their breast, Jules felt her tongue trace against their skin. The air felt cooler along their breast as Raysa moved closer and closer and the feeling of her tongue was heaven. Jules moaned when Raysa wrapped her lips on their pert nipple and closed her teeth around it. She pulled at their nipple when she moved her head away, letting go before she pulled too hard.

“Is that what you thought was going to happen, Mine?”

“I hoped it was, Raysa.”

“Now do you think I'm going to keep kissing you? Maybe you think I'll be symmetrical?”

“What happens if I'm wrong?”

“Gentle mockery, and tickling.”

“Then I really hope you're going to be symmetrical.”

“That's too bad! And you had been doing so well up until now.” Jules cried out in dismay, which caused Raysa to laugh. “I was only joking, silly. This is just a game, you won't get punished for that.” Jules let out a sigh of relief. “You were still wrong, though.” Raysa pressed her lips back to Jules’ chest. She kept kissing her sub, moving higher along their chest. They bristled as Raysa bent the small hairs on their chest the wrong direction with her nose.

She moved higher, and nibbled on their collarbone when her route took her there. Raysa's hands traced up Jules’ sides and held them closer when she moved to kiss their neck. Jules let out a moan when she kissed them, and let out a high-pitched whine when her teeth pressed against their skin. With one hand, Raysa pushed Jules’ head back and began to kiss and suck on their throat. They couldn't hold back a scream of delight when Raysa's teeth pressed into their neck while she started to suck with her lips.

“Oh mistress please I can't take this any more,” Jules begged. They were getting wetter and they could feel their pussy exposed to the air, begging for the fucking of their life. Hell, they would probably squirt if they felt their ass spread open.

Raysa pulled away from their neck with a pop. She pulled closer to their head and whispered in their ease, “Do you think that's what's gonna happen next, Mine? After all that time kissing your tight body, I'll just stop after one hickey before plowing you? Is that your guess?”

Jules started to squirm. Fuck, Raysa definitely gave them a hickey. They wondered how big it was. “No ma'am, but maybe you'll let me cum soon anyway?”

“I don't think I will, Mine. You're not prepared yet.”

“What do I need to do, Mistress?”

“When was the last time I only gave you one hickey?” Raysa moved her head again and wrapped her lips around another part of Jules’ neck and started to suck and nibble before pulling away again with another pop. Jules felt Raysa shake with laughter as she put her lips down again to give them a third hickey. This time, Jules felt a hand creeping down their side, around their thigh, and slowly begin to stroke their pussy. Another pop. “Time to guess again. What's next?” Jules had no response but to breathe faster. Another pop. “Am I going to fuck you soon?” Another pop. “Am I going to let you suck my cock first?” Kiss. Pop. Jules lost count of the number of hickeys Raysa had given them so far. “Do you even want me to fuck you?” Raysa moved to kiss Jules right below their ear. Another hickey. “Or could you cum just from this?” Under their chin. “This is what really gets you off, isn't it?” On their collarbone. “Next time you ask me to eat you out I'll just do this.” Further down their collarbone, another kiss. Jules let out a moan. Raysa moved her lips along their neck, leaving another mark. Was it worse that they would have to go back on shift in the next cycle covered in hickeys, or that they didn’t care? Her head moved, but this time she bit them instead of sucking on their skin. “What gets you hotter, Mine?” Raysa moved again, another kiss, another pop. “Is it the kisses that turn you on, or the hickeys?” Another kiss, longer, her teeth grasping their skin and releasing, her lips bunching their skin then pushing it back into place. She moaned into this kiss, and kept moaning until she made the loudest pop yet. Jules let out a whimper. “Oh, it’s definitely the hickeys that gets you.” What did their neck look like? How much of it was covered in hickeys? “But is it just getting the hickeys, or is it knowing that when I’m done with you,” another kiss on their collar bone, “when I’m done with you, you’ll have to walk down the corridor next to me with your neck covered in bruises?” They were starting to lose track of where she was. “Oh, you’re such an exhibitionist.” Raysa nibbled on their earlobe. “Sure, you don’t want anyone to see you riding my shmeckle.” Her tongue glided along their ear. “But you want everyone to know that you had sex. You want everyone to know you like being used, don't you?” Raysa finally moved to kiss their lips. It was so brief, Jules whimpered when her lips moved away. “You want everyone to know how much you enjoy being used by me.”

Raysa’s fingers started to stroke between their thighs. Her fingers were moist from her attention to their sex, and now she was spreading the little bit of moisture around, leaving no spot in their crotch dry. “I’m looking forward to showing you off once I’m done with you once we’re all done. We’re gonna walk down the hall with your head held high, showing off your pretty neck.” Another kiss pop. “I’m not done with you yet, of course. I’ve still got to get my dick wet, don’t I, Mine?” Her tongue moved along their jaw. “Or at least, you’ve got to get it wet.” Another kiss -- didn’t she give them a hickey there already? “I’m gonna fuck you senseless, but after covering your neck like this, it’d be a shame not to give your mouth some attention, wouldn't it?” Fingers not preoccupied lower on their body traced delicately along their bruised throat, “after I’m done with you up here, I’m gonna make you scream my name, Mine.” Kiss pop. "But this should hold you over until I want to use this shpiln zakh,” Raysa pushed two fingers into Jules, “won't it? You're wetter than the Europan ice. This is all I have to do to keep you wet and ready, isn't it?” Kiss pop on the nape of their neck. “Because this is all you need, isn't it, Mine?” Jules' face was burning. Their breath rapid and their lower body tightening as they tried to keep an orgasm at bay.

Then the warmth of her breath faded, her head must have moved away.

“Now Mine, what do you think is gonna happen next?”

Jules was silent. Even if they had something to say they couldn't form the words.

“Are you going to suck my cock now?” Jules nodded numbly. “Open your mouth, Mine.” Jules did as they were told, and they felt Raysa's thumb press against their tongue. They closed their lips and started to suck, moving their tongue around the finger that Raysa moved in and out of their mouth. They heard the sound of Raysa's jumpsuit getting unzipped and wished that they could see the beautiful sight that is Raysa's naked body; her full breasts, her nipples, wrinkled and hard with arousal; her soft, smooth, slightly rounded belly; her ample, inviting hips, curved in such a perfect way; her throbbing womanhood, cut, smooth, perfect. She was smaller than some other partners they'd slept with, but Raysa's cock was a work of art. Especially because she knew how to use it. Jules wished they could see it, but they'd settle for tasting it. Her thumb pulled Jules’ mouth open and moved away, her hand moving to their hair. “You ready, Mine?” Jules nodded again, licking their lips. They knew it was time for their favorite hand signals: one for “yes,” two for “no,” three for “I wanna choke on your cock.” Pressure on the back of their head as she pulled them close, as she guided her cock into her mouth. They closed their mouth around their mistress’ member, closed their eyes despite how useless that gesture was, and moaned at the sensation of their tongue gliding down Raysa's dick.

Both of Raysa's hands were on Jules’ head now. They were going to get their throat fucked, they knew it. “Before we get too far, just in case, make the stop signal for when I can't see your hands.” Raysa was always very insistent they go over the safety protocols whenever the couple got tied up. Sure, Jules belonged to her, but she always made sure they were safe. They made the signal: extended and retracted a finger quickly three times, for longer another three times, then quickly three final times. Raysa was a giant nerd who loved old timey sailing lingo, so she made them remember the code for SOS, an old water vessel’s emergency signal for them to use when they couldn't talk.

“I'm going to move deeper now, you ready?” Jules flicked their tongue against the cockhead in their mouth.

Before Raysa started to move, Jules flicked two more times. They wanted Raysa to fuck them. Didn't matter if it was their pussy or their throat, they looked forward to being used like the good sub they were, and to that end Raysa was about to make them gag.

“I love you, Mine,” Raysa said as she slowly pulled her enby deeper onto her cock. “You feel ok?” Raysa asked after Jules felt their nose press against Raysa's pubic mound. They gagged a little as they were getting used to the sensation again, but then opened and closed their hands three times, begging Raysa: “make me gag on this dick.”

“If only I had known you were this dirty when we met, I never would've let you leave Mars without me.” She pulled Jules away slowly. “Thank God I kept your number.” Much faster than before, Raysa pulled them towards the base of their cock; she thrusted her hips forward at the same time and groaned when their lips reached the hilt. Pulled away faster than before, then back down. Away, then back down. Away, down. Away, down. Raysa soon picked up a rhythm, in and out, in and out. Raysa shoving the head of her cock towards the back of Jules’ throat, them trying to keep down their already-minimal gag reflex, and then Raysa pulled Jules’ head back when she ran out of length to go any deeper. They started dragging their tongue along her cock on their way out, and they could tell from the throbbing that she enjoyed it.

At some point, Jules felt their head press against something hard and cold. Raysa must have forgotten to use something to keep the pair floating in place, and her thrusting must have propelled them ever so slowly to the window. Even though the ship heated the glass to prevent it breaking from the rapid temperature changes between the inside of the station and the frozen vacuum of space, the glass was still very cold against their skin.

They were trapped between the freezing nothingness of space and the blazing everything that was their lover pumping in and out of their face. The heat of the blood filling their Mistress’ member caused images to flash in their mind, of Raysa’s red hair floating away from her head like flames. They could see nothing through their blindfold, but they could feel her. As warm, sweet pre-cum gently spilled into their mouth, Jules was convinced they were getting fucked by a goddess of fire.

“Oh fuck it's been too long since I took you like this,” Raysa told her lover.

It had only been a quarter of a megasecond since Raysa had last tied up Jules.

Gasping profanities as she slowed her thrusts, she asked, “Tell me, do you want me to cum in your mouth or should I make use of you some other way?” Raysa slowed to a stop and left her cock halfway inside their mouth.

Her dick was as hot as a star next to the cold glass dome.

Tasting her sweet pre-cum, in that moment Jules wanted Raysa to just fuck their throat full of jizz, but their pussy was still soaking wet and they wanted - no, they needed - to cum. They were so close to squirting buckets; they needed to feel this delicious cock rearrange their insides, and they were able to mumble that from around her. Raysa floated a bit deeper before asking them, “And where do you want me to cum? In or out?” Such a decision to make! Was Raysa going to stuff their pussy? Or maybe she'd cover their face? Maybe she'd cum on their pussy and have them masturbate with her generous lube? Such decisions! Where did Jules want her cock?

They tried to speak but it came out as vibrations: "'op 'alf 'ease"

“I'd be happy to oblige, Mine. Get ready, you're just about done here” Raysa pulled Jules down hard one last time and held them there. “Just hold for a moment,” Raysa kept Jules’ head firmly in place for point one heartbeat, two, three, then pulled them away entirely. Jules gasped and took several fast, deep breaths. Their gag reflex was good, but even the best had to breathe more than just cock.

“You did so good, Mine.” Raysa stroked their head as Jules gulped down air. “I know that’s not always easy, but you’re doing so well now. How are your arms and legs feeling? Do you need me to let you move around before we continue?”

Jules wiggled their fingers. They felt a little too cold, more than the window should have made them. “Yeah, I think so. Will you take off the blindfold, Mistress?”

“No, Mine. That stays on for now.” Raysa kissed their cheek before turning them around and starting to undo the knots connecting their limbs. “How do you feel about the gravity?” She was starting to undo their hands now.

“I think you're going to drive me insane if this goes on too much longer.” Jules shook their now-free hands, trying to get the blood to flow back into them.

Working on their feet, Raysa asked “what's wrong? Is it the blindfold?”

“Maybe. But I've got this image in my head of you, right before you put it on, your hair was floating, and when you started fucking my throat against the window I could've sworn you were a goddess of fire.” Shaking their feet, they reached out with a hand to where they thought Raysa was.

“What makes you so sure I'm not? Don't you think I'm hot?” Raysa took Jules’ hand and kissed it before massaging their palm. “Besides, I'll have you saying prayers for my cock soon anyway.” Raysa floated around and moved closer to Jules and wrapped her arms around them, spooning them and held them for thirty seconds. “I love you so much, Jules. And I'm proud of you, how well you managed to take my dick.” One hand started to move down their stomach. “Do you think you're ready to keep going?” Raysa's hand reached Jules’ crotch, her hand tickled by their pubic hair and she gently slipped one finger between their legs onto their still-wet vulva.

Jules felt something hard poke them in the back. Hard and hot. Raysa's cock, ready for her to take them again. “I think I can be, Mistress. How do you want me?”

“Give me your arms.” Raysa took them when Jules put their arms behind their back again and tied them together, first tying a knot around their wrists, then tied the same rope in another knot above their elbows. It took a few minutes and a few tries, but eventually Raysa got their arms stuck but comfy. Then, she pulled the rope over their shoulder and under their armpit, and wrapped around the strand in the back. Then, under the other arm and over, and then she tied the rope closing the loop. Jules’ chest was pushed out by the was way Raysa tied their arms and they knew it was intentional. They wondered if she was gonna finish on their chest? It'd be sticky on body hair, but they loved the way it felt, and they knew Raysa enjoyed the way it looked.

“You comfy, Mine?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Jules tested the knots and they were strong but not too tight.

“I'm going to bend you at the waist now.” Raysa put one hand on Jules crotch and pushed them forward from the top of their back. “Bend your legs.” They complied, and Raysa tied each one so it would stay bent. “Good?”

“Yes.”

“Now we're gonna play the guessing game again. Are you going to get to use your mouth now?” Raysa turned the now-completely helpless around and pressed her cock to their lips.

Jules opened their mouth a little and stuck their tongue out to lick the very tip of her dick. “No, I don't think so,” they said, making sure their lips brushed the cockhead right in front of them. “Not after that.”

“Are you sure about that, Mine?”

“Well I was.” It seemed like Raysa started to move lower, but they couldn't be sure.

“So now do you think I'm going to shove my dick in your mouth?” Her voice was getting closer, Jules was almost sure of it.

“Mmm well I wouldn't be upset if you'd finished in my mouth earlier.”

“Well I'm sorry to say you're still wrong, Mine.”

“Then what are --” Jules was cut off mid-sentence by Raysa pressing her lips onto theirs. They didn't just have to stop talking because of the ginger’s lips preventing them from talking, but this kiss shut off their entire thought process. They thought they knew what it felt like to be loved by this woman, the woman to whom they gave ownership of themself, but this kiss showed them that they didn't have a clue.

Jules had lost count of the number of times Raysa kissed them over the hundreds of megaseconds of their time together. All of them were wonderful and beautiful and left Jules longing for more. The ones the couple shared when Jules was tied up, though, were something more. They were like fucking magic. Like fireworks launched into space and sci-fi teleported into their brain to ricochet off the walls of their skull for an eternity.

Every kiss felt like magic and this was no exception. Her soft, full lips pressed against hers. Gently at first, but then they felt her hands on either side of their head, pulling them closer to her. Their lips spread, letting Raysa into their mouth, her tongue greedily searching for theirs, her teeth pulling their lip into her mouth, her hands holding them tight against her.

Raysa wasn't the only person Jules had ever kissed. Yes, she was the person they kissed most often, but that was as much out of convenience as anything else, so they said; they shared a suite on the station, so Raysa was one of the people they saw most often. Yes, Jules loves Raysa, and she them, but both loved others as well. Jules had other lovers and partners, friends on the station and friends they haven't seen in a long time because of their mission on the Lina Stern. Sometimes, Jules and their other lovers had fun with ropes. Sometimes they were more straightforward. Sometimes they slept with several people at the same time. Sometimes Raysa was one of those multiple partners. Sometimes none of them were Raysa. It was a fair assumption that she did the same.

But despite all their lovers, Jules and Raysa always came back to each other. And despite the range of partners and kinks they had, no one ever made love to Jules like Raysa. It was hard to find a partner like her. It was harder to find a lover like her. It was even harder to find a domme like her. A lot of the time, Jules tied up their partner, but they never tied up Raysa. Even with all the ropes and the spanking, Jules never truly felt submissive to anyone but Raysa. More than once, days after a particularly intense scene with her, Jules actually asked Raysa for permission to sleep with someone else. Of course Raysa laughed every time, but Jules could see in her eyes that she wanted them to ask. It was ridiculous, that someone else could have the final say on their partners, but at the time it felt like it was Raysa's right to have a say in it. And even when Jules hadn't just spent dozens of kiloseconds servicing Raysa, the kisses from their new partner were never like Raysa's. Even with the lovers they had known for dozens and dozens of megaseconds, there was never the same feeling they got from Raysa. Whether she kissed them tenderly, like she was then, or kissing them roughly, Jules felt how much Raysa loved them. It was almost enough to push Jules over the edge. Almost, but not quite. Their self control was still there.

She pulled away from the kiss slowly, but it was still too fast for Jules. They weren't ready for the kiss to end, but Mistress was, and so the two moved apart.

“Now I think it's time we moved on, Mine.” Her voice was moving behind them. “What would you guess is going to happen now?”

Jules was still dazed from the kiss. It took them a minute to form a sentence, “You're… you're going to fuck me?” There was a hint of desperation in Jules’ voice. They needed her cock, and soon.

“Very good, mine. How do you think that's going to happen? Am I going to float behind you and grab your ass while I fuck you from behind? Or use your thighs like handles and get to laugh at all the silly faces you make when you cum?” Jules pouted at that.

“Is that why you won't take off this blindfold? So I don't see the weird faces you make when you cum?”

“No, I'm not taking it off now because you're talking back. Don't make me put the gag back on.” Jules' jaw was still sore from the gag. And the deep throating. Mostly the gag. They stopped themself from saying something else to upset Mistress. “And now I think I'm gonna keep you in suspense. Who knows where my dick could end up? Maybe your pirge? Maybe your ear? Who knows?"

“Aural sex went out of fashion a hundred years ago, Raysa.” Putting on the best seductive voice they could in their bound state, “but my pussy never goes out of style.”

“Well maybe I'll bring it back. Could be the best way to deal with a sub who talks back. An ear full of jizz.”

Jules wiggled their rear end. “You know you'd rather cum in almost literally any other orifice.”

“And you think I'm going to choose the one you want me to fill?” She slapped them on the ass harder than they expected, which elicited a yelp. Jules felt hands spread their cheeks apart, then felt a pressure that made them clench some very specific muscles. They still had anal as a hard line; occasionally a small toy was ok, but a cock was too much for them to handle.

“Aww, fine. I guess I don't have a choice then. You won't be able to hear any orders if my dick is in your ear, so I might as well put it… here.” With her last word, Jules felt the pressure of their mistress’ rigidity push inside them, faster than they expected.

Raysa was being a little rougher than usual; did she have a bad shift? Or did she just need more intimate attention between scenes? Jules would have to ask her later; right then they were having a hard time focusing on anything besides the piston that was Raysa, her hands gripping their thighs like a vice as she brought them both closer to an explosive orgasm.

“Ca--can… may I cum, mistress?” Jules stammered, panting and moaning between each word. Even to Jules, their moans were pitifully high pitched, almost squeaks every time Raysa thrust.

"I think you may, Mine. You've been such a good plaything, you deserve a reward. Cum for me, Mine."

And they did.

They tightened the muscles in their pelvic floor and let their lover drive her cock inside her again and again until they exploded around her.

"Good, Mine. Now are you ready for my turn?" Raysa grabbed their thighs, pounding until Jules deliriously nodded and they pulled them close to her and they felt a warmth fill them.

—-

Later, untied and dried off, the two astronauts floated together, holding each other, looking out onto the starscape of an alien system.

They were both ecstatic, still coming down from the high brought on by their intimacy.

Especially the one covered in bruises.

#my writing #smut #nsft

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