Page 27 of Temptation at Randy's

The more Claude hovered over me—touching, and kissing, and nipping—the more I forgot why this made me anxious in the first place. I just needed more of what they were doing and the things they were promising.

“Get your head on the pillows.”

I’d never complied with a command so easily. For once, Claude didn’t tease me about it. They just followed me there. It didn’t escape my notice that they hadn’t removed any clothes.

It was hot. In my head, when I watched videos or read pics, I imagined it would feel awkward.

It just made me feel more… submissive, I supposed was the best word to describe it. I was almost naked for them, for their enjoyment. I was exposed while they didn’t have to be.

I moaned. Claude quirked an eyebrow. I couldn’t form words, but I dragged them closer.

“So this is what Domms talk about when they goad about their subs being so responsive.” Claude grinned before lunging down and licking the shell of my ear. I shuddered. “I dig it.”

“Please, Claude.”

It wasn’t an honorific—even my overactive imagination knew it was too soon for that—but it felt like one. It wasn’t just me saying their name. There was a new weight to it.

I think Claude got it, too, their body tensing for a second before they straightened. There was newfound strength there. It made me want to touch myself, to put a stop to all the teasing and get the reward.

Maybe that newfound strength let them read minds. The next thing I knew, they were grabbing my wrists and locking them above my head.

“Don’t move.”

I let out a soft pant. The bed didn’t have a headboard, so I just intertwined my hands together. I could behave, even when my heart thumped loudly against my chest. It wasn’t as if Claude would do anything I didn’t want them to.

I trusted them.

They understood, too. They didn’t walk around on eggshells, either. I probably had done that more than they did. I’d have to apologize.

Later—when they weren’t intent on driving me completely mad.

This whole thing felt… sacred, the way first times felt in movies and overly romantic books. I kind of wished it was my first time.

“Claude.” Their name was the only one word I didn’t struggle to utter.

“Yeah?” Their hands snuck under my back. I held my breath as the clasp of the bra clicked open. “You look so… hypnotic.”

Hypnotic.

I rolled the word on my tongue.

I didn’t know about looking hypnotic—whatever that meant. I felt hypnotized, though, so maybe it made sense.

“Fuck me,” I breathed out. “Please.”

I needed to experience it, needed to fall into the fantasy that this was my first time, that I was giving it to Claude. I needed Claude to own my body, to show me how everything could feel as if I didn’t have a clue.

Maybe I didn’t. Every other experience I thought I’d had was shoved to the side. Irrelevant.

EIGHT

Claude

There really was some kind of hypnosis going on. I didn’t know if it was Domspace or something else—it didn’t matter; not right now—but nothing existed outside of Arlene.

She really was gorgeous. A part of me was jealous of the way she lay beneath me, her body on display. She was braver than she’d ever admit. I could not be put on display. It wasn’t even about how I felt about my body. Vulnerability had never been my thing.

I wanted to dig into her mind, though, to understand every thought and choice that led her here. I needed to know what she was feeling, what it meant for her.

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