Rachel & Amy - Story WIP Preview (Patreon)

(Gonna be posting this when I hit 1000 watchers on DeviantArt, you guys get it a little early!)

So, this story will be a long time in the making, but if people are interested I'll be posting updates  and WIPs for whatever stories I'm working on as an extra perk for Patrons.

This is a work in progress so I'd be really interested in any comments or critique! You guys could help me shape the story. Let me know if this is something you'd like to see more of in future.

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 Amy almost tore the door off its hinges as she stormed into her house, not even thinking about the half dozen speeding tickets she likely earned herself on the drive home. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Rachel!?" she roared and slammed the door behind her but her call seemed to fall on deaf ears. Her girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. Amy didn't stop moving forward as she threw her jacket aside and kicked off her high heels. Conflicting emotions had her so wound up she could barely catch her breath. She knew just where that idiot would be. That stupid, dumb, meat-headed, sexy, irresistible, breath-taking idiot.

"No. Don't smile. You're angry with her!" Amy reminded herself and threw open the door to the basement. A wave of heat greeted her and sent butterflies squirming in her stomach in spite of herself. She pulled out her phone as she stormed down the stairs, furiously scrolling through it. Her free hand swept her blonde hair back in place. Only looking up once she'd reached the bottom and ready to raise her voice, Amy found her breath catch in her throat.

The once perfectly organised gym was a wreck. Weights, medicine balls and straps were strewn everywhere. The punching bag had split, spilling foam all over the floor. Various machines had been pulled around for one reason or another. On top of that, there didn't seem to be a mat or bench without a girlfriend shaped imprint of sweat. It all led her gaze to the centre of the room. The eye of the hurricane. Rachel. Kneeling. As pumped and sweaty as Amy had ever seen her.

 Rachel was leaning forward so her forehead touched the floor, palms down in front of her. Spreading her shoulders this way made her lats flare out and bulge, exaggerating the taper down to her muscle packed waist.

 Amy gulped as her brain stalled and she simply stared. It was impossible to build up full immunity to the sight of her girlfriend in such a state. Thankfully she shook it off before long, and turned her phone to Rachel. Her voice was sharp, high and angry - distinctly different from that of the playful disciplinary tone she often used with Rachel. "What do you call these!?" she demanded, scrolling through the gallery of dozens of pictures. All sent to her over the course of the day by Rachel. Pictures of her training, pictures of herself in all states of undress and distress. Some were selfies, others set up with timers. Leg raises, boxing, skipping, sometimes just flexing and smiling. Enough to drive Amy to absolute distraction. Her phone had been pinging every half hour and she simply couldn't resist looking. It had made her very important day of work - which Rachel knew full well about - a disaster. "It's not funny!" she insisted, stamping her foot as she saw Rachel smirking. The girl remained unfazed, looking up at her with those big, dark eyes. A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek and dripped from her chin. Amy took a deep breath.

 Amy had been desperate for this all fucking day. No more nice girl.

 She steadied her breathing. Lifted a foot to Rachel's head to gently push her back down until her forehead was back on the floor. Then, she made her wait. She straightened her glasses and put her phone aside. In her own time she unzipped her pencil skirt, neatly folded it and set it aside. Then she started to undo her blouse, button by button. Of course, she made sure Rachel could hear it. It was working, she could see it in Rachel's breathing as her back rose and fell. Amy was back in control and it was a good feeling. Her girlfriend gave a delightful shudder as Mistress Amy spoke, her voice low, sultry. "You've had your fun. Now I'm going to have mine... I hope you enjoyed your warm-up."

 Rachel's waist and hips slowly shifted, squirming with barely contained lust. "Welcome home, Mistress."