Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance



Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance



Ella, a writer and translator, is still wounded by her past. Her fear of intimacy holds her from meaningful relationships for so long, that she craves it despite being terrified by it. Could Catherine be her aid?


Ella, a writer and translator, is still wounded by her past. Her fear of intimacy holds her from meaningful relationships for so long, that she craves it despite being terrified by it. Could Catherine be her aid?

Chapter5 (v.1) - Part Two: fucking was the easy part (2)

Author Chapter Note

Confession: I'm really embarrassed of what I managed to write in this chapter. It's very explicit and it's so . . . raw? Oh, well! I hope you enjoy reading it. Don't forget: if you have any comments or criticism, don't hesitate to tell me! ^^

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 10, 2018

Reads: 274

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 10, 2018



PART TWO - fucking was the easy part (2)


They fuck at least several times a week, and on their free days, they can fuck several times a day. They fuck nearly everywhere: Cat’s bed, Cat’s floor, Cat’s kitchen, Cat’s living room, Cat’s shower, in the parking lot, in the cinema, in an alley behind the cinema building under daylight, in Cat’s boutique office, switching under a restaurant table. Every time one of them wants to try something, they do it. Bondage, a little bit of sadomasochism, role-plays, with toys, phone calls, video sexes, fight for dominance. They fuck slow and painful, fast and furious, rough and hard, sometimes playful, and some other times, they record it.

Sometimes they fuck with each other. One of them may receive a phone call from someone else and the other would fuck her. Ella has officially taken Saturday as her day off because it’s also Cat’s day off so she can get her full 24 hours weekly dosage of fuckery. She’d stay at Cat’s flat, takes her clothes off by the threshold, and only put them back on when she’s leaving.

It goes on for eight months, and for those eight months, Cat bottles up her feelings. She did as she promised: Just sex, no strings attached. But each time, it gets harder and harder to not let it slip; to just keep fucking Ella mindlessly without planting a loving kiss here and there, or to stroke her gentler, or to secretly pray she were hers when their lips locked.

Ella doesn’t seem to recognize this. Or if she does, she turns a blind eye on it. After every time Cat makes her cum, her hazy eyes would look at Cat, and they stab Cat right on the gut. The fact that she tends to snuggles toward Cat when she’s asleep doesn’t help the situation either. Cat is fucked, both in the literal sense and metaphorical.

This morning, Cat arranges some minis for breakfast in bed while Ella takes a hot shower. Since she stays over at Cat’s so regularly now, Cat managed to persuade Ella to leave a spare toothbrush. Ella didn’t seem to think much of it, but to Cat, seeing their toothbrush side by side, it gives her an illusion of the two of them being domestics.

Ella finishes just when Cat is. She’s drying her hair with her towel. Her bare skin smells like Cat’s rose and berry soap in contrast to her own usual coffee-smelled soap. As always, she walks out of the bathroom naked. She’s glowing . . . and she looks delicious.

“Hi.” Her smile beams. “Ooh, are those mini pancakes?”

“Yes,” Cat says. She watches when Ella strolls to the island, grabs a pancake and dips it into a small bowl of maple syrup. She sucks the syrup off her finger clean, looking at Cat while she does it. “I was thinking about breakfast in bed.”

Tiptoeing, Ella whispers to Cat’s ears, “What about breakfast on me?”

“Oh—well, with the maple syrup, I think you can get sticky.”

“Lick me clean.”

Cat exhales heavily. Ella retreats, sucking her clean finger once again, winking at Cat. She throws the wet towel to Cat’s dirty clothes bin, walking over to the bedside table and checks her phone. By the island, Cat clears her throat. “So,” she starts, “any plan for today?”

“Aside from getting some good fucks and cum?”

Cat won’t lie; it fills her with pride every time Ella says that the sex is great, or at least good. But today, she won’t let it get into her head too much that she can’t think straight. “No, I was actually thinking more about—” Cat brings the mini breakfast tray to her bed, where Ella sits on the edge, checking her phone. “You know. . . .”

She provokes no response from Ella. “I was actually thinking more about going out, going somewhere.”

Ella’s back stiffens for a second before she relaxes them. The small move didn’t escape Cat’s observation. “Oh,” she turns, suspiciously cheerful, “a change of scenery, eh?”

“Yeah . . . something like that.”

“I guess fucking in bed for a few days in a row can get boring, huh.”

“No, I was actually thinking more like a date.”

Ella’s sight shoots up. “A date?”

“Yeah—” Cat awkwardly shrugs. “You know. Hanging out.”

“Cat.” Ella carefully steps up and stand. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Cat stutters a response. But before she’s able to form a full sentence, Ella cuts her off, “It was just sex, remember?”

It pierces right through Cat’s heart. No longer Ella looks at her with unmasked playfulness and lust. It’s just pure suspicion and resentment now. She stands across the bed, they are face to face, only a few feet away. Ella looks entirely different. She’s now back to the old, grumpy, if not somewhat snarkier, Ella.

“I know that, I just—”

“You just asked me out for a date.”

Cat winces to her tone. “Do you really have to put emphasis like that?”

But Ella just shakes her head furiously. “I’m out.”

She walks toward an ottoman by Cat’s flat’s window. She starts putting her clothes on and Cat rushes trying to stop her. “No, no, no.” She grabs Ella’s hand, trying to pry the bra off her fist. “No, forget it. Forget what I said. Stay.”

“Fuck off!” Ella spins. “You promised me it was just sex! Now look where we’re at! Able to maintain your feelings under control my ass. Fucking bullshit!”

Cat starts to feel her anger boiling up, too. “Well, the fuck you think was going to happen?!” She practically yells, “You knew how I feel yet you decided to stay!”

“Because the sex is fucking good!” Ella shoves Cat, but instead, she was the one being pushed by her own strength. The glass tinted window feels cold against her butt. Her chest heavy with furious breaths. “That was it!”

Suddenly, Cat is unable to move. She’s unable to think, speak, or feel. All her illusion and imaginations are shattered; Ella has never once think of her as a potential mate. She’s only good for the sex.

Slowly, the veil is lifted. Why Ella never invited her to her place, why she always dodges whenever Cat asks any question regarding her private or even work life . . . things she always wanted to know but are shut down, again and again. For eight months, Cat tried to find a reason, any justifications, to make her feel better about only used as a living sex doll. But deep down, she knew.

And that realization is what finally drives her over the edge. Fury fills her chest. Her expression changes so much that it even terrifies Ella. She has had her moments. Now it’s Cat’s.

The look on Cat’s face stuns Ella. She freezes, like a prey mesmerized under a predator’s sharp eyes. All of the sudden she feels too naked, too exposed, but she can’t even lift her arms to cover her breasts.

“So the sex is good?” The fabric of Cat’s clothes touches Ella’s bare skin as she holds the other girl’s face. “But I’m not good enough?”

They are only separated by a few centimeters now, and Ella’s heart pounds against her chest. Genuine fright electrifies her from head to toe as she looks into the madness and loss of control in Cat’s eyes. “Well,” Cat says, her voice is rough and mean, “if the sex is so good, then—”

With one swift move, Cat throws Ella to her bed. It’s not the playful, flirtatious throw they sometimes do. It uses all her strength, and it doesn’t leave any room for doubt that this is, in fact, going out of control.


“Shut up!” Cat barks. She climbs on top of Ella, not once breaking eye contact. “I’m tired,” she says. “What do you want? What are you looking for? Why can’t I be what you need?”

“Cat—” Ella struggles to let go of Cat’s grip on her arms. “You’re hurting me—”

But Cat only scoffs. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t like it.”

Cat holds her arms even tighter, pushing them to the mattress deeper. “If you—” Ella chokes. Who knows that trying to let go of her arms could be such a tiresome task? “If you continue this, this is going to be rape.”

“Oh, I know.” Cat suspiciously sounds calm and collected. “But even if you tell the authorities, I can just show them the recordings we made together to show that you have, in fact, been ‘raped’ before and you enjoy it tremendously, because you’re a whore. My whore.”

Fright turns into fury mixed with dumbfounding lust. “I am not yours!”

Ella tries to kick Cat by the stomach, but she only manages to kick her thigh, disrupting her balance, and Cat falls onto the floor with Ella on top of her. Not wasting any time, Ella reaches for Cat’s neck, chocking her. But Cat’s arms are longer, and she has no problem yanking Ella’s head back. Before Ella could process it, her back is on the floor, her legs wide open with Cat on top of her.

Using her martial arts knowledge, Ella rolls Cat over her head, maintaining the top position once again. She chokes Cat, not giving the girl a chance to recover from her head hitting the floor. In panic, Cat grabs Ella’s arms, reaching out for anything she can find. Her finger touches someone’s jeans, and she uses it to hit Ella in the face, repeatedly until she lets go of her neck, falling on her ass.

Cat crawls away, making some distance between her and the naked crazy lady. She coughs several times, touching her neck slightly, not once letting her gaze go from Ella. Ella throws the jeans away, her wet-damp hair is a mess. Her shoulder moves when she breathes, and for a second, the two girls just look at each other.

Then the both charge forward. Ella hits harder, pushing Cat backward. Cat trips on her own bed’s edge, rose and berry aroma fills her nose as Ella’s hair falls, forming a curtain around them. Their fingers locked with each other, each trying to push the other, trying to gain or maintain control over the other. Ella may be stronger now, but her energy spikes like bursts, and when her grip loosens even just a bit, Cat traps her by locking her hips with her legs, rolling on her back, pushing Ella’s back on her bed.

Now Cat is above again. Ella still tries to push her hands with hers, but Cat pushes her head forward, her lips closing in, inch by inch.

Suddenly, Ella lets go of Cat’s hand and reaches behind Cat’s head. She grabs her hair and pulls her down, their lips meet halfway. Cat pushes her body down. The only thing separating their skins from touching are just Cat’s clothes, and she struggles to take her shirt off when their bodies are pressed so close together. Ella tries to push Cat, wanting to be on top, but Cat insists on pressing her down, unwilling to give her just a tiny bit of control.

In frustration Ella bites Cat’s lip. She bites so hard both of the girls can taste blood coming out. Cat tries to retreat, but Ella only bites harder, forcing Cat to come back and kiss her again. Their breaths hot against each other. With her tongue Ella licks Cat’s wound, trying to soothe it or taste it, she doesn’t know.

Cat lets go just for a second so she can take her clothes off, but Ella doesn’t hesitate. She gets up, pushes Cat over, and with all her weight, she subdues Cat.

Ella sits just a bit below Cat’s breasts. Her own breasts hang low as her body leans forward, both hands locking Cat’s arms over the bed’s edge. Both of them breathes heavily, trying to control their breath.

“Who’s whose whore now?” Ella asks. “Bitch.”

“Your grammar confuses me,” Cat pants. “But if you think I’m going to surrender, ever, you’re wrong.”

Through her grin, Ella licks her lips. “I expect nothing less from you.”

She whips her hair and Cat takes advantage of her shift of balance and rolls over, bringing both of them down to the hard floor. Laughter and grunt soon turns to groan and moan as their breakfast turns cold.

© Copyright 2020 Kasey Gae. All rights reserved.


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