Pip Jones pushed their protest signs aside to clear space, hearing the poster board and plastic handles hit the floor with a clatter, before she hopped up on the table. Leaning down to bite Cora Jameson’s bottom lip, Pip wrapped her long, pecan-colored legs around Cora’s bared, aspen-shaded waist. Pip smiled against the shorter woman’s lips when Cora’s hands moved higher up her thighs, lifting her skirt with them.
“Rainbow panties?” Cora laughed and brushed her finger against the brightly colored satin.
Pip shrugged and arched into the touch. “Well, it is PRIDE.” Her breath hitched when Cora’s finger dipped beneath her panties’ elastic hem. “The most wonderful time of the year.”
“Not so much this year.”
Pip straightened a bit at Cora’s bitter tone. Not that she blamed her. Not when, earlier this month, just in time for PRIDE, President Rosen announced his plans to strengthen religious freedom laws. At the expense of women, people of color, and the LGBTQ+ community. Laws that, under the guise of protecting people of faith, sought to strip people of their way of life, their freedom, and their dignity. Pip, as a black, bisexual woman, understood that bitterness all too well.
It was why she’d come, with her walking shoes on and her rally cry sign in hand, to protest the present administration and to protect something no one should ever have to: her right to be.
She’d never been a particularly political person before, but her world felt different now, since Rosen took the White House. On the campaign trail, he’d sworn to “Make America Rise Again,” bringing it back to a decade that romanticized the Confederacy and treated people who looked like Pip as different. As less than. Watching the president’s announcement had made her feel so alone. Like her country—her home—wasn’t hers anymore.
But, this morning, something had changed. Looking around in the early sun’s light, Pip had seen pink pussy hats, homemade signs, and rainbow flags everywhere she went. As she’d walked closer to the rally, she couldn’t help but smile while surrounded by strangers united by the same defiant desire for dignity.
It’d felt like coming home again.
Then there was Cora, passionate and beautiful as they’d marched together, hoisting their signs and chanting in unison. It’d been so hard to wait until the protest had all but ended before sneaking off with Cora to an abandoned storage room in a nearby parking garage.
But, now, that Pip’s world began to feel right again, she was not going to let that sense of bitter isolation creep back in. PRIDE was about community. About connection. She wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from her.
So, she squeezed her legs tighter around Cora. “Well, you’re making my PRIDE pretty damned wonderful.”
Cora let out a breathy laugh, heat flaring in her eyes. “Oh yeah?”
Pip nodded her head. “Uh-huh. I’ve been here, marching my butt off, since eight. I could use a break.”
“Your poor butt needs a break, huh?” Cora arched her eyebrow. Pip barely had time to gasp before Cora gripped her by the waist, tugging her off the table and flipping her so Pip was bent over, belly-down and ass-up. “I think I can arrange that.”
Cora let out a wicked laugh that had Pip craning back to see what the other woman was up to. Cora reached around her own neck and took off the plastic, rainbow-colored PRIDE beads hanging there. She gathered the ends in her hand, letting the strings flow out one side, before she struck her forearm with the makeshift flogger.
Pip pushed up onto her hands and laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“Absolutely.” Cora grinned playfully. “But first,” the deliciously kinky top said, setting aside her beads, “we need to tie you up.”
Pip snorted and looked around the storage room. “With what?”
“Hmmm.” Cora reached for the collar Pip had around her throat. “Perfect!”
Pip was eyeing the always creative woman’s pervertable solutions when Cora lowered her to the table and held Pip’s wrists in one hand at the small of her back. “Beads for a flogger, a collar for cuffs. You’re practically a kinky fairy godmother.”
Pip snickered, until she felt Cora’s grip falter. She looked back again, wondering at the hesitant look on the woman’s face. “What’s wrong…”
**READ THE REST [HERE](https://unboundbox.com/blogs/magazine/a-part-of-you)**
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/6ga9v6/pride_punishment_ff_bdsm_pervertable