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Schoolgirls

  • Posted on April 29, 2018 at 9:55 am

 

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Revolutionettes, Chapter 17

  • Posted on April 27, 2018 at 10:09 am

By Amanda

1803 – Paris 

When morning came, the weight of realizing that in less than two days I could well be saying my goodbyes to Sandra — this time, forever — threatened to crush me. It was a struggle not to let that create a dark cloud over the party. I decided I would take breakfast with Josephine that morning. I thought perhaps she might reveal something I could use to strengthen Sandra’s resolve.

I moved from room to room, eventually finding Josephine still in the guest room that I’d prepared for her. I called for Josette and asked her to bring us tea. I sat upon the bed next to my former mistress while we waited for it.

We said nothing as we sat. I think perhaps we both knew what the other was thinking. When at last the tea was served, she and I sat at a small table and sipped from my china cups.

“This is when I should ask you what you want to talk about,” Josephine began.

“But you already know,” I said, smiling.

“Of course.” Josephine sipped her tea. “Is Sandra serving the guests?”

“No, she isn’t. Not at all,” I replied.

“But she has offered, yes?”

I nodded my head.

“And she told you something like ‘I don’t mind, it is what I am for…’?”

“Yes, and, ‘There are far worse things a woman like us could be’,” I finished for her.

“I have taught her that, for as long as she had been in my home,” Josephine explained. “I reminded her of it, with each new girl I trained. Well, you understand, I am sure.”

I nodded my head again.

“So you see, then, that you cannot change her.”

“She has changed,” I insisted stubbornly.

“Has she? Or has she simply repeated to you what you wanted her to?” Josephine retorted.

That struck a chord with me. I had assumed the girl’s sincerity, but after the previous night I had my doubts. I wondered if perhaps Sandra simply did not know what she wanted and did not believe herself able to be any more than she already was.

“You are a wicked devil, Josephine,” I whispered. “And I hope you’re wrong.”

“I’ll tell you the truth, if you want to hear it,” she offered.

After a pause, I nodded, and she went on, “I almost hope I am too. A part of me hopes you have succeeded me. After all, that is what any teacher hopes, is it not? That their student someday will become a better teacher than themselves?” She sighed, “I wonder what I would do without my darling little Sandra about the house. Tell us, Liz, do you think I’m cut out to take a girl, make her my wife, and live quietly now that I have reached old age?”

“Not at all,” I said in earnest. “I think you would go mad with something so ordinary. Besides, you are not so very old. Your hair is not white, and you have few lines on your face…”

“I am older than you may think. I reached fifty only this year,” she explained. “This past year, I have wondered if the time has not come for me to pass the torch to another, or at least, to retire while I’m still respected. What about you? Could you take my place?”

“I have no stomach for what you do,” I said honestly. “I could never submit a girl to what I lived through in your house.”

“Honest to a fault. It’s one of the things I so adore about you,” Josephine said with a smile. “And I think you are right. If you could, then you would not be here trying to get me to give up some secret for keeping Sandra with you.”

“I suppose I am a fool for trying to hide my intentions from you,” I laughed.

“Indeed so. But I’ve surrendered the secret all the same. If you could have become me, even if only for her, then you would not have to fear her leaving you.”

I shook my head, frowning.

“She offered to service your guests. You should have made her do it. You should have ordered her to do that before it ever occurred to her to ask. She asked because she doesn’t know her place here.” Josephine sipped the last of her tea, and poured some more, then said, “She’s afraid, she feels insecure. Sandra very much wants to feel sure of where she fits in your home. While in mine, such questions would never occur to her.”

“I did take control of her, though. I did order her about.”

“But you have said it yourself. You haven’t the stomach for such things, and so you were always Liz. Even as a mistress, you were still the kind and compassionate Liz Jordan. Did you give her the glove even once?”

“I would never!” I shouted.

“Of course you wouldn’t. Sandra knows that too. As I said, girl, if you wanted to be sure of keeping her, you would have had to become me.”

“I hate that you’re right,” I said quietly.

“Take heart, girl, I’ve seen how she looks upon you. Her demeanor has changed quite a bit since last I saw her. You may not have lost her yet. I’m honestly not sure which of us she’ll pick.”

She placed a lump of sugar in her tea and stirred it. “Chinese?” she asked after sipping.

“Perhaps Japanese,” I said.

“Ah. Have you ever met an Oriental?”

“No, I think I have not.”

“You would know if you had. Tiny little people they are, with narrow eyes and hair as black as night. I hear tell the women are exquisite,” she chuckled to herself. “They say that some Chinese are eager to give up their daughters, I wonder if perhaps I shouldn’t send someone to fetch me a girl for my house.”

“That’s awful, mistress.”

“Do you really think so?” Josephine responded. “Perhaps that despicable slave trade has corrupted even the best of us. Still, it isn’t as if I couldn’t acquire a girl from an orphanage with but little difficulty and moderate expense. Tis how I came by Sandra. Would it be so different to take the next from a family who doesn’t even want her?”

“I doubt there are even girls like us among the Orientals,” I laughed. “How could you ever tell?”

“If there is one thing I know with certainty, it is that women like us exist everywhere. Orientals will have them, the Indies have them, Africans have them, the red Indians back home have them. And you can rest assured that even among the women of the Mohammedans, you will find our type.”

“Are you suddenly an optimist?” I laughed. “I doubt that even one in a hundred women are like us. Maybe not even one in a thousand.”

“I think it a great many more than that. If it isn’t that they love only women, it is that so many are at least happy to welcome a woman to their bed. I sometimes wonder if perhaps we are the weaker sex. In my life, I have almost never failed to seduce a woman upon whom I set my sights.”

She finished her second cup of tea and set it down. “I think the hour is late and we should join the other guests for breakfast, don’t you?”

We entered the dining room together. There the women had been gathering, however slowly, and Josette was preparing to serve the morning meal. It had been my plan to have breakfast alone with my former mistress, but that would have been bad form as a hostess.

We ate and set about passing the hours of the day socializing and coming to know one another. While I myself knew each woman there better than most others, many of them hardly knew one another at all.

Lunch came and went, and in the afternoon I enjoyed Alice’s antics while a group of the tom boys talked politics in the library with Madame Le Granade. I decided it was my duty as a hostess to join them even if I had nothing to offer, as I knew little about such things. When I entered the library, the good Madame was explaining that she believed Napoleon would surely undo all that had been done in the Revolution. This surprised me, since it was my understanding that she had remained loyal to the King at that time of the revolt.

“Ah, Elizabeth,” she said warmly upon seeing me. “Tell us, what do you think of this little toad who’s seized power?”

“I think it is as you say. The people managed to wrest some measure of power from the nobles in the Revolution, yet no sooner does this man take command than he begins chipping away at that. I fear for our future. He threatens to carry us into war across all of Europe, and France has neither the surplus of gold nor blood to accomplish his ambitions. I fear given time he will bring us to our knees.”

The women looked to one another silently for a time. Even Catherine seemed quite shocked, and I must say I’d surprised myself by saying so much.

“I think this subject has been closed,” Annabelle said at last. “Doubtless no one could counter such a firm argument.”

I approached her. She had been teasing me by asking such a question, as it was known among all that I knew very little about political workings.

A friend of mine, Paulette, asked, “But don’t you think Napoleon can lead us to greatness?”

“Conquest comes at a price,” I answered. “And I fear it will be too terrible to face.”

“Ah, but just think of it,” Catherine said in jest, ‘a whole city of lonely women, desperate for comfort while their men are out playing soldier.”

I could not help but laugh.

“And that gentlemen, and ladies, would be a little bit of heaven, I think.” Catherine was doing her best to lighten the mood, as it had become quite dark.

Annabelle scolded her. “Catherine Pennington, you should be ashamed of your womanizing ways. When I think of the lovely young girl you were when first we met, my heart breaks to see you now.”

“M’lady, you wound me,” said Catherine, bowing low before the older woman. “However, if my memory can be trusted, it would seem that you were all too happy to take advantage of my precociousness.”

“You little whelp,” Annabelle snapped. “How dare you besmirch my reputation with such an accusation!”

For a moment I thought the Madame was angry in earnest. However, I caught sight of a smile playing at her lips.

“Which reputation have I besmirched?” Catherine teased. “That of the upstanding and shrewd business woman, or the equally honorable one of the expert lover and seductress?”

“I can’t have these people believing I could be swayed by the charms of a fourteen-year-old girl. It was I who seduced you, and took your innocence, and don’t you forget it.”

“True, ’tis as you say, m’lady,” Catherine agreed.

I tried not to show my surprise. I’d never thought to ask how Catherine might have known Annabelle. That they might once have been lovers had never even occurred to me.

The Madame glanced at me and winked, as the other women chuckled to themselves. I wondered if perhaps this had been a secret that only I’d not been in on. Annabelle was at least a dozen years older than Josephine, probably more. To see her now, remote and disciplined, one might easily forget that she was young, like us once. We teased and prodded one another a time longer before I left them to continue their discussions.

On my way to the parlor, Sandra caught me. I took her on my arm and we entered the parlor together.

“Madame Le Granade has generously provided us cigars,” I said as we entered.  “You will find them on the dining room table. Please, if you are so inclined, feel free to enjoy one.”

Alice wrinkled her nose. She did not like cigars and complained often of the smell of them.

I turned to Sandra and pulled her close. I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her deeply, eliciting giggles from those around us.

“Miss?” she questioned when I released her.

“Have you had occasion to speak with Josephine yet?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“Go and find her, I think she would like to see you.”

“And if she orders me to…”

“The mistress is honorable. She will not order you to do anything in my home,” I assured, “any more than I would order you to do anything in hers.”

“I would like to see the mistress,” she admitted. “But I did not want to insult you.”

“Sandra, dear Sandra.” I pulled her close. “I had so hoped you might come to understand that your happiness is my happiness. Go and talk with her.”

I sent Sandra away to find Josephine. I then set about greeting and speaking with each of my guests.

I came upon Virginia, Annette, and Eliza talking in my dining room and quickly joined them.

“Annette says you want the two of them to put on the show tomorrow night,” Eliza said to me.

“I don’t have any other ideas,” I replied.

“Well, you have Alice and me. I’m sure we could give you a show that these ladies will not soon forget.”

“Virginia and I have decided we want to do this. It seems an honor to be asked, I think,” Annette offered.

“You really are too kind,” I said. “Please, it is I who should be honored.”

“Well, some of us know a bit about Catherine and her sorority,” Annette began, “and there she is the leader, the one all the ladies look up to. But here, that person is you. You built our sorority, you brought us together, you make all this possible. To fulfill a request from you, to even be asked, is certainly an honor. Imagine the girls eating their heart out wondering why you didn’t call on them.”

Eliza began to laugh, though she fought to hold it back. “If you had seen the wide-eyed girl I met for the first time at a party not dissimilar to this one, you’d scarce recognize her.”

She sighed and stepped close to me. “Dear girl, to see you held in such regard warms my heart.” Then she turned to the others. “Did she ever tell you what the show was at her first party?”

“The first she threw? We were here,” replied Virginia.

“No, I mean the first of Catherine’s that she attended.”

“Oh, what was it then?” Annette begged.

“Why, I buggered my darling Alice on a stage in front of everyone,” Eliza laughed. The two women stood in silent shock.

“Using one of those… what did you call it, Liz?” asked Annette.

“A dildo.”

“Yes, yes, one of those things?” Annette continued.

“Indeed,” said Eliza with a smile.

“Annette, darling, we must do that tomorrow,” Virginia said excitedly.

“I would recommend you do not,” said Eliza. “It took a full week to prepare Alice. The first time we tried, it hurt her so bad she burst into tears. ’Tis a delicate act, more even, I think, than when you give up your virginity. After our first attempt, I was almost to afraid to try again. But, well, obviously I did.”

“I agree,” I said to Virginia. “It will be enough to just see you in…” I trailed off, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

“Now, you see, you’ve aroused my curiosity,” said Eliza, more seriously. “What is it about these girls that makes them so entertaining. Is one of them like Sarah? Born a man, but living as a woman?”

“Not at all. I’ve met no such person here,” I told her.

“Then what indeed?” Eliza looked Virginia over carefully. “Whatever it is, it’s you,” she finally said.

Virginia made a poor attempt of trying to hide how keen Eliza’s senses were.

“I knew it,” said Eliza with a smile. “Well, I eagerly await the show then.”

Virginia breathed a sigh of relief.

That Virginia was a nun was not common knowledge. I knew about it, Sandra knew, and Josette knew. But quite plainly this was something she must otherwise keep secret.

“I still haven’t told you the best part,” Eliza said, regaining their attention. “Afterward, I sent little Alice in to seduce her.” She put her arm around me and hugged me close. “My Alice taken a shine to Liz, so I told her to find her and bed her.”

“What if Maddy had refused to allow it?” I asked.

“Be serious, girl. Maddy and I agreed on it even before the show. I’d never dare to break up a happy home. And whatever else one might say, yours was clearly a happy home.”

“She never told me,” I said, as I leaned my head on Eliza’s shoulder. “I haven’t thought of Maddy in some time. That all seems a world away.”

“It very nearly is,” she said quietly. “Feels like another life to me too. Things are good in Philadelphia now, but there is a distinct lack of excitement. I went to the first party Catherine ever threw, you know. There were she and I, and six, perhaps eight other women. None of us had a sweetheart. It was quite a tame affair. I think not so much as a bare breast was seen. She was a mere twenty-two years old then. And I… I was but a babe in the woods at fourteen. A year later, Catherine had met Josephine and was living with her in New York. So there was no party, no tavern. Just a handful of us, drifting between one another for some kind of comfort whenever we could find a way to meet. When Catherine came back, though, she was different. Forceful, driven, ambitious… and perverse.”

We all giggled.

“Telling my life history, Eliza?” Catherine said, stepping into the room.

“Forgive me, Catherine,” said Eliza, seeming a bit embarrassed. “Would you like to tell the rest now? It wouldn’t do to leave off here.”

“No, I prefer the way you tell it. You make me seem as a hero, or some kind of goddess. When I tell it, I sound like a scared and insecure girl who got lucky more times than not,” she laughed.

“All right,” said Eliza. “Well, a few months after she returned from New York, Catherine threw another party. But this time, when the guests arrived they found her stark naked, striding about her house. She got everyone drunk almost right away and somehow managed to coax all but myself out of their dresses. She served us dinner, naked, of course. And that night she read us our first erotic tale. When she had finished, she practically pounced on me. I was in complete shock. I hardly knew what to think, and before I could gather my wits she had buried her face between my legs. I was in the throes of passion when I found myself being kissed by another woman. The entire affair degraded into an orgy soon after. I don’t think our hostess failed to please even one of the ladies there that night.”

“Some of them twice,” said Catherine, with a wicked smile.

“We made love long into the evening. So long that some of the girls had begun to sober up. In fact, I think we all had. Some sobbed, while others struggled to find something to cover themselves with. But somehow Catherine soothed them.”

Eliza looked at her. “You said something, just a few words, really, but somehow it chased away our doubts and shame. What was it?” she asked, evidently trying to remember. “It was brilliant, made us all feel so strong.”

“I don’t recall. Some prattle Josephine had put in my head no doubt.” Catherine sipped from a glass of wine she’d been holding. “Something I’m sure about how we should have no shame in feeling what might be the first and only passion we would ever feel. The same type of nonsense I said to every new girl.”

“What you call nonsense, many of us have taken to heart and tried to live by,” I said to her. “Your nonsense and Josephine’s prattle are why I am where I am.”

I was slightly put off by Catherine’s dismissal of what Eliza considered to be words of wisdom, and this showed in my tone.

“Forgive me, Liz,” she said. “I have never taken compliments well. The truth is, whatever I told them I believed at the time and I’m sure I still believe to some degree. This is why I like hearing Eliza’s version better.” She emptied her wine glass. “Please, forgive my interruption.”

Eliza smiled at her. They were close enough for her not to take offense at Catherine’s characterization of herself.

Soon she went on, “Well, the wisdom of what you said that night reached us, anyway. But our indulgences were also catching up with us. So, we all slept in the parlor. She’d not had the idea for a show or anything else yet,” Eliza chuckled. “It was just a party that she had managed to turn into an orgy. Anyway, with the sunrise our humiliation returned and was redoubled when the servants arrived carrying trays with breakfast for us. Catherine had taken our clothing, and she was not giving it back. We spent the day cowering in the house. Well, some of us did — others found dark corners to make love in. By the second evening, we had all come around. Then Catherine decided to read us another story. When it was done the room was filled with girls pleasuring one another. I waited for her, though. When it was all over and we had gone home, most of us thought that was the end of it all. But within the year Catherine had bought her public house and was bringing more and more of us together. She seemed to become wiser, stronger, and more driven every day. I truly looked up to her as a hero. And now, she is the womanizing tavern owner, plantation owner, and adulteress you see before you.”

“Please, you’ll make me blush,” Catherine laughed. “But have any of you seen Charity? I’ve not seen her since breakfast, and I’m a bit worried.”

I excused myself and Catherine and I made our way out of the room. “Check the second floor,” I suggested to her.

I moved on to more guests, and nearly a half hour later happened upon Catherine again. “Did you find Charity?” I asked.

“Indeed I did, my girl, indeed I did.”

“Where?”

“Why, tucked neatly between Jezebel’s thighs. I imagine she’s still there if you’d like to see her.”

“What of Angelique?” I asked absently.

“The blonde frog Jezebel came with?”

“You’re terrible, Catherine,” I scolded and she laughed.

“I believe I saw her with them, but they all seemed to want a bit of privacy and I did not want to intrude,” she chuckled.

Some time later I would see all three coming down the main stair looking a bit guilty and very satisfied.

When dusk fell, dinner was served. This night I had Madame Le Granade at my right and Josephine at my left. We ate and laughed and regaled one another with stories of our loves and exploits. Madame Le Granade was begged for details of her life but she would not give them up. It was a disappointment, but it added to her mystique. To be so open would not have been in character for her anyway.

We soon retired to the parlor. Josette set about serving absinthe. That particular liquor had a tendency to encourage the ladies to shed their shame. But more than that, it was an enjoyable drink, and because it was hard to come by it was something that some of my guests may never have a chance to taste again.

When I saw that the drink was beginning to take effect, I crossed the room to a single bookshelf stocked with but a few books.

“My honored guests,” I said, raising my voice. The chatter of the women quieted. “Tonight you’ll be treated to a truly awful story.”

I ran my fingers along the spines of the books, pausing at one and pulling it from the shelf. This I opened with the bookmark, and then withdrew a second book bound in paper. I replaced the first book on the shelf and turned to face my guests.

“Some years ago, a naive young girl arrived in Philadelphia. She soon took up with a rather well to do farrier. In time the farrier introduced her to a woman you all know. And soon the girl found herself in that woman’s home at a party not unlike this one. That woman was none other than Catherine Pennington, and the girl I speak of, of course, was me. At that party our hostess read us a story about a pair of most lecherous sisters. And tonight, I would like for the lovely Catherine to read that story to you.”

Catherine immediately declined, but the women and I insisted. Reluctantly she approached me and took the booklet from my hands. “Wherever did you find this?” she asked.

“It was no small feat I assure you. But, please, I so look forward to being held in your thrall.”

I left her, sitting next to my Sandra on the floor. As Catherine read the story, very nearly exactly as I remembered it, I wrapped my arms around my love. But for a moment, I even felt as if Maddy’s ghost had somehow found me there and sat just behind me, holding me. A tear, be it sadness or joy, I don’t know, slipped from my eye and I lay my head against Sandra.

When the story was finished, Catherine knelt before Sandra and me. Around us women were slowly moving toward making love, whether simply flirting or passionately kissing.

“Did I do as well as you remember?” Catherine asked.

“Better, I think. Maddy would have been proud.”

“I hope so.” She patted my head like a child. “Charity sits alone behind you. I think I should join her before someone else snatches her away from me.”

With that, Catherine joined her lover and they showed no hesitation in undressing one another and making love.

“Does incest excite you, miss?” Sandra asked.

She slid around in front of me and wrapped her arms around my neck. I pulled her into my lap and kissed her deeply. “Shall I pretend to be your sister?” she teased. I shook my head, and she said, “Would you like me to tell you a true tale of sisters that I witnessed with my own eyes?”

“No, love,” I said as I kissed her. “I only want you.”

I began undressing her, and then myself. Soon we were bare. Sandra raised up and I pressed my lips to her bosom. Her nipples were erect as I nibbled and kissed them. The perfumes from our baths still clung to the skin. I lay her back in a pile of pillows as I lavished kisses upon her. She moaned softly, her eyes half closed, as she watched me work my way down her body.

“I’m yours, mistress,” she whispered absently. “Use me for your pleasure.”

I had become accustomed to her whispering such things when we made love, but I would never come to like it. I drove my tongue deep into her folds and drew it up, eliciting shudders from her. I knew how to keep her mostly quiet after all.

I lapped at her sex, reaching my fingers deep with in her. She bucked her hips and rocked in time with me. I suckled her most sensitive spot, drawing her slowly but steadily closer to her climax, until at last she drew a sharp deep breath and dug her fingers into my back.

When it subsided, I crawled back up along her body, kissing her all the way. I hovered over her, looking down to find a smile playing at her lips while she coquettishly nibbled the tip of her finger. Her eyes were closed, but I knew she did this for my benefit.

“Kiss me,” I said.

She turned to me and raised up to press her lips against mine. I lay beside her and she bent down to suckle my nipples, whispering as she did. She often whispered incoherently when we made love. What she was saying, she said it too fast to easily understand. It had taken months for me to work out all of it. It seemed little more than mantras Josephine had most certainly taught her.

This is some of what I heard: Her pleasure is mine, it’s what I’m for… It’s my joy to serve her, to be used by her… Her ecstasy is my ecstasy… I have no will that is not hers… I will serve her from the bottom of my heart…

And on and on like that. I hated that she did it, but it seemed something she could not do without, so I left it alone.

Sandra was working her way down to my nethers, but I stopped her. “I’ll have your lips,” I whispered. She pulled herself up and began kissing me. I guided her hand along my body and finally between my legs. “Like this.”

“As you please, my mistress.”

We kissed deeply and passionately as she rubbed her fingers in circles around my clitoris. From time to time she would dip her fingers deep inside me and then back out again. She made ever faster circles until at last I buried my head against her breast and cried out. She had left me gasping for breath, and unaware that we’d drawn a small audience. When I recovered to find myself being clapped for, it reminded me of the first party I’d ever attended. I began laughing and sat up.

“Go ahead then, don’t be shy. I’m sure you all know how to do it,” I encouraged.

We made love late into the night. As the candles burned low and the other women lay sleeping or whispering quietly to one another, I took Sandra’s hand and we retired to our room. There we only just had strength to change into our night dresses before lying down and wrapping our arms around one another.

Continue on to Chapter 18

Summer Love, Chapter 7

  • Posted on April 25, 2018 at 10:09 am

by callmeQ67

Once inside the bouncer could hardly believe her eyes. The scene was far beyond her wildest imaginings. The two gorgeous teens were each circled by women licking, stroking, and fondling their tender young flesh. It was the most depraved thing she’d ever witnessed, and she’d seen a thing or two in her day.

She instantly decided to get her own share of Courtney’s precocious thirteen-year-old body. Shoving a college-age girl out of the way, the tattooed bouncer paused to drink in the sight.

Courtney was naked but for her white knee socks. Her skin was damp with sweat, and her pubic hair was matted with saliva from dozens of mouths and her own slippery girl goo. As she recovered from yet another orgasm, her creamy breasts rose and fell with each ragged breath.

The bouncer noticed that even though the girl lay flat on her back, her firm young titties held their shape, pointing straight at the ceiling. In other words, she looked ravishing.

“You are a dirty little fuck toy, aren’t you?” The bouncer growled.

“No,” whimpered Courtney.

“We’ll see about that,” the bouncer said, and she picked up Courtney in her strong arms and carried her to one of the heavy oak trestle tables in the center of the room. The little brunette was utterly helpless as she was laid out amid the bottles and glasses and spilled beer.

The thickset bouncer dropped her jeans and straddled Courtney’s face, pressing her heavy thighs together. Cradling the little girl’s head in one of her meaty paws, she used two fingers of her other hand to spread open her shaved cunt lips. She had a gold ring in one of her labia.

“Eat me, little girl,” she said.

Meanwhile, Kristen arched her back as yet another shattering orgasm ripped through her slender body.

The college basketball player who’d just finished with her was exchanging high fives with her teammates.

“Please,” said Kristen, “no more. I can’t take it.”

The thin blonde teenager appeared spent. Hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and her arms and legs hung limp.

“Don’t quit on me now, girl,” said Yolanda. “I need to get me some of that pretty little cootchie.”

When the little girl struggled, two of Yolanda’s teammates spread Kristen’s legs wide, while another held her arms stretched over her head. The big woman squeezed the young girl’s pussy lips together with her fingers, making her tiny clit pop out.

“Mmmmm,” she said. “That do look sweet.” Then she covered Kristen’s entire sex with her mouth, burrowing her tongue in the virgin channel, drawing out the juices from within.

“Oh, fuck,” sighed little blonde Kristen. “Oh my God… ”

Another of the black members of the team began to pinch Kristen’s fat pink nipples, making her squirm.

“Look at the size of these things,” she said.

She looked over at the table where Courtney was noisily licking the bouncer’s pierced cunt.

“Your friend seems to like eating pussy,” she said. “I think it’s your turn to show what you can do.”

She quickly climbed onto the bar and lowered her crotch to Kristen’s mouth.

Kristen had never seen a black woman’s pussy before. The outer lips were dark purple, almost black, but inside was bright pink. Not only that, the curled inner lips protruded a good inch. The smell was musky, enticing. As the other girls on the team cheered, Kristen spread the lips and began eating her first black pussy.

Waiflike blonde Kristen had eaten Courtney’s pussy for the first time less than a week before, and now here she was eating a total stranger as dozens of women and two bartenders watched, and, she loved it.

Her surrender was like throwing a switch. Suddenly everyone decided that they, too, wanted to be eaten by the cute teenagers.

Brooke had long since given up trying to maintain any sort of order.

The women crowded and jostled each other in their hurry to have Courtney and Kristen lick their gooey honey pots.

Brooke didn’t mind since most were handing her fifty, sixty, or even one hundred dollars for the privilege, and the locker room fund was growing faster than she had imagined possible.

Everyone there was affected by the sight of the two sexy teens gobbling pussy like there was no tomorrow.

When all the women who wanted the two teenagers to eat their pussies were finally through with them, a pair of women, both aging hippies, took pity and led the teenagers to the ladies’ room.

Courtney, for one, was shocked when she saw her face in the washroom mirror. Her chin, lips and cheeks were covered with drying girl cum.

“Oh, God,” she said. “What is wrong with me?” The collar around her neck spelled out exactly how she felt about herself at that moment. It’s true, she thought. I’m just a dirty fuck toy.

Kirsten cuddled her tearful friend, “Don’t cry, Courtney,” but when she saw her own reflection, she started to sob as well.

Their good Samaritans would have none of it. They dried the teenagers’ tears, helped them to wash their faces, and reapplied their makeup.

They told them they were both beautiful, and how much they had enjoyed watching them. They hugged and caressed them, and in spite of their noble intentions, the two older women were getting turned on.

“This will make you both feel better,” said one, lighting a joint.

Within a few minutes of walking into the toilet, Kristen and Courtney were each slouched in a toilet stall, smoking weed, while the two women knelt on the floor, taking turns eating their juicy cunts.

The teenagers finally emerged from the ladies room nearly half an hour later, dressed once again in their schoolgirl outfits, their hair brushed and makeup restored. They had both come at least twice, and they were both stoned for the first time in their lives.

Some of the women had left the bar during this interval, deciding they’d had enough debauchery for one night. While the bouncer was letting them out, she greeted two other women who had been waiting to get in. They quietly took seats in a dark corner. Oddly, they were both dressed in dark suits and fedoras, like 1930s gangsters.

Brooke was waiting for the two sexy teenagers, microphone in hand. Order had more or less been restored.

“Now that our two guests of honor have returned, looking much refreshed,” Brooke said, “it’s time for the second part of the evening’s entertainment. As promised, before this night is over Kristen and Courtney will be virgins no more.”

A cheer went up.

“In keeping with the purpose of this event,” Brooke went on, “we’re going to have another auction to raise more funds for the new locker room.” She looked out at her audience. “Can you guess what’s going to be on the auction block?”

“That’s right,” said Brooke, acknowledging the applause. “Up for auction is the privilege of deflowering our two young virgins. We’ll start with Kristen here. Kristen, climb up here and give everyone another look at you.”

Several women helped the child up onto the bar and none could resist touching and caressing her.

“Now then, ladies,” Brooke said, “you’ve have had a chance to sample Kristen’s charms, and you know how hot she is. And I’m sure many of you can confirm the fact that her, ah, maidenhead is still in one piece.”

Some of the women nodded at each other knowingly.

Brooke continued, “So what is it worth to take the virginity of this little blonde cutie? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. We’ll start the bidding at one thousand dollars. If that’s too rich for your blood, pun intended, too fucking bad! The idea is to raise money for our alma mater, and if you don’t want to participate, you can still watch as the lucky high bidder makes a woman of our adorable little Kristen.”

Miss Jenkins, Kristen’s former fourth grade teacher, opened the bidding at $1500 but she didn’t stand a chance. On her teacher’s salary there was no way she could compete with lawyers, business executives, and the idle rich. Kristen’s virginity was finally sold to Melissa Grey, a physician who had once played for the Westchester College basketball team.

“As a pediatrician who specializes in gynecological issues, I’ve seen a lot of little girls’ hymens,” she said to crowd. “And I’ve always fantasized about ripping one open. This is a dream come true.”

“We have an assortment of toys available,” Brooke said.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Dr. Grey, who stood six feet tall. She held out her long, capable hands. “These will work just fine.”

She began by taking Kristen in her arms and kissing her tenderly. “I’m going to make this good for you,” Dr. Grey told her.

Kristen didn’t doubt her. The marijuana she’d smoked had given her a feeling of euphoria in which all her senses were heightened. When the doctor kissed and caressed her it seemed every touch went straight to her pussy. She trembled with desire as the doctor undressed her while everyone watched.

The sight of the lovely blonde girl’s body excited the crowd all over again.

Dr. Grey lifted Kristen in her arms and placed her gently on the bar.

“Give me your tongue,” she said, and when she sucked it Kristen felt such a wave of desire that she couldn’t help touching herself. The doctor kissed and nibbled on Kristen’s pointy little breasts, and the youngster moaned with need. Melissa Grey spread Kristen out with her legs wide apart and bent at the knee, almost as if she were on an exam table. The doctor explored her delicate labia, stroking the folds softly until they opened like a flower.

“You have a beautiful pussy,” said Dr. Grey.

“Oh… ” whimpered Kristen. “Oh, please… ”

Dr. Grey knew what the girl wanted and gave it to her. She quickly licked Kristen to a mind-blowing orgasm, then savored the juices that ran from within, investigating every part of the pretty blonde’s sex with her lips and tongue.

“You’re really good at that,” said Kristen, her voice dreamy.

“I’m a professional,” the doctor said, smiling at her. “Are you ready? You’re certainly wet enough.”

“I think so. I’m kinda scared.”

The little blonde girl spotted her best friend sitting nearby.

“Courtney?” she said. “Will you come and hold my hand?”

Some of the women had tears in their eyes as the two thirteen-year-olds held hands while Dr. Grey began to penetrate Kristen’s virgin fuckhole.

The physician held Kristen’s lips apart with one hand and slowly inserted her index finger. Kristen winced as her hymen stretched. When her finger was completely inside, Dr. Grey looked up.

“My fingers are plenty long enough,” she said. “But I’ll need more than one to do the job.” She sucked on two fingers, wetting them with saliva.

Dr. Grey slid two long fingers into Kristen’s hole until she met the thin membrane.

“You might feel a pinch,” she said in her best clinical voice. And then she rammed them in, shredding the little girl’s hymen.

Kristen yelped in pain, and Courtney squeezed her hand tighter.

Dr. Grey held up her bloody fingers as the crowd of women cheered. She licked the girl’s virgin blood from them and pushed them back in. She pulled them out a second time and offered them to Courtney, coated once more with the blood of her best friend.

“Mmmm,” moaned the little brunette after she sucked the doctor’s fingers. “That’s so fucking sexy, Kristen. You’re not a little girl anymore.”

The doctor put her fingers back inside the child’s tender fuck channel. “Does it still hurt?” she asked.

“A little…”

“It will feel better soon,” said Dr. Grey, as she slowly began to fuck Kristen with her fingers. She knew girls’ bodies intimately, and sought out the places where Kristen liked to be touched. She quickly found the child’s g-spot and massaged it, while thumbing her clit. Kristen thought she might swoon. She began to rock her hips in time to the doctor’s movements, faster and faster.

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” Kristen wailed. Her body began to spasm so violently that Courtney was afraid she might hurt herself. When she came, her body arched up from the bar like a bow drawn back to its limits. When she reached her peak, ejaculate gushed from her pussy soaking the doctor’s hand and splattering on the bar.

“Holy shit, you squirted!” said Courtney as she hugged her friend, who lay shuddering in a foetal position.

Brooke gave the two girls a few minutes to comfort each other before she announced that it was time for Courtney to take center stage. The bidding went even higher this time, with many women hoping to be the first inside the sexy teenager’s cunt. Courtney tried to feel excited, but a nagging sense of disappointment penetrated her drug-induced haze.

Where was Mrs. Lunsford?

The beautiful blonde socialite had still not appeared. Melinda had introduced Courtney to the delights of girl/girl sex. She was the first to touch the brunette teen’s breasts, the first to lick her pussy, and the first to show her how wonderful it could be to give pleasure to another woman. Courtney didn’t feel it was right to lose her virginity to anyone else.

As the auction progressed, several prominent women, including Brooke, drove the bidding higher. No one paid any attention to the two strangers in the corner. That is, until one of them effectively ended the bidding by making an offer that was more than a year’s salary for all but the wealthiest women in the room. Everyone stared as she approached the bar, the brim of her hat hiding her face.

Courtney was more than a little frightened. She was about to lose her virginity to some weirdo dressed like a man in an old movie. Maybe it was a man! One of the most important events in a girl’s life, and this was not how she’d imagined it.

“My sexy little fuck toy,” said the stranger. She took off the hat, letting her blonde hair spill over her shoulders.

“Mrs. Lunsford!” Courtney squealed. She threw her arms around Melinda and hugged her, tears of joy on her cheeks.

“Did you really think I’d let someone else fuck you first?” Melinda said.

Courtney didn’t answer, just pressed her face tight against her lover’s bosom. It reminded Melinda of the first time they’d met, when Courtney had cried on her boobs in the country club showers. She let the little girl exult in the moment before exerting her dominance once again.

“Strip,” she said, pushing Courtney away.

“But… ” said Courtney.

“Up there,” Melinda said, indicating the bar top. Courtney felt wounded by the coldness in her lover’s voice. Why treat her so cruelly when she had just spent a fortune for her virginity? Even so, she was going to be fucked by the woman she adored in front of a crowd of admiring women. Her cunt throbbed with need.

She noticed that her hands were shaking as she climbed up on the bar. More than ever, Courtney felt she had to make Melinda want her; to make every woman there want her. She needn’t have worried. Just standing there in her schoolgirl outfit had the women panting with lust. By the time she tossed the last of her clothes into the crowd, the roar was deafening.

Melinda was waiting, and several women helped Courtney down from the bar, taking the opportunity to touch her all over. As she walked through the throng dozens of hands fondled her hips, her round ass, her perfect breasts. Each touch sent sparks flickering down to her loins.

Her lover had removed her suit jacket but was still wearing the white shirt and dark trousers. A circle formed around Melinda and her still-virgin fuck toy. Melinda shoved Courtney roughly back onto a table. With every eye on her, Melinda unzipped her trousers. She reached in through the opening and pulled out a huge lifelike dildo. It stuck out obscenely like a fertility idol.

The women whooped and cheered, and Kristen noticed that even the two bartenders had come out from behind the bar to join the crowd. An attentive reader might have wondered why two healthy young men hadn’t yet joined in exploiting the teen hotties. The answer was simple: both of the men were gay. They were just not attracted to members of the opposite sex, which is why the pair was trusted to work this party. But even they were becoming aroused by the scene before them.

“Hold her,” Melinda said. At least two women held each of Courtney’s arms and legs, spreading her out wide. Lying back on the table, the girl’s cunt was at the perfect height for Melinda’s strap-on penis. “Kristen, make sure Courtney is ready.”

Kristen gladly ate her best friend’s juicy cunt as the onlookers cheered. Courtney squirmed in the grasp of all those hands. They held her securely, but couldn’t stop her hips from gyrating. She was soon moaning with pleasure. “Oh yeah, eat me! Don’t stop, I’m gonna cum!”

“Enough!” Melinda said, pulling Kristen roughly by the hair. “It’s time.” She lined up the head of the dildo with Courtney’s virgin vagina.

The other stranger in the corner rose from her seat and joined the circle of onlookers. No one noticed her at the fringe of the crowd – no one except Melinda, who locked eyes with her for a brief instant.

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Lunsford,” sighed Courtney as the head of the false penis slid between her fat cunt lips. “Fuck me. Go on, pop my cherry. I want you to.”

“Are you sure?” said Melinda. “Once it’s gone, you can never get it back.”

“Yes, please! Fuck me!” Courtney whimpered. “I’m yours, every bit of me. Fuck me and make me your bitch.”

Melinda looked around the circle of women. “You heard what she said, ladies. Should I give her my cock?”

The was a resounding cry of, “Yes!” from the women, and even from the two gay bartenders, who were getting more excited now that there was a dick involved, albeit a fake one.

Melinda thrust forward, and Courtney gasped as her hymen stretched. Her blonde lover gazed down into her adoring eyes. “Last chance, little girl.”

“Take me,” said Courtney, and Melinda did, shoving the thick dildo into the girl’s unexplored depths. The women cheered as Courtney cried out in pain.

“Stop! It’s too big!” squealed the teen, but Melinda paid no heed.

She thrust until the dildo bottomed out against Courtney’s cervix. The little girl’s adorable face was a picture of shock and pain. She struggled as if to escape but her arms and legs were still held firmly by the women.

Courtney was in agony as her tender young vagina stretched around the foreign invader.

“Please don’t,” she said. “It hurts.”

Melinda growled in triumph as the tears ran down her little fuck toy’s cheeks.

But as Courtney’s girlie secretions and virgin blood oozed into her channel, the big cock began to slide more easily. Even the women holding her to the table couldn’t have said exactly when the girl’s cries of pain turned to cries of pleasure, but it was pretty obvious when she began to move her hips to meet the thrusts of her older lover.

Courtney’s head thrashed from side to side as an orgasm wracked her small body.

The women rejoiced in her ultimate surrender. “Look at her!” They marveled. “She loves it!”

Numerous hands groped her thighs and breasts, and when someone kissed her lips, Courtney opened her eyes to find that it was Kristen. The girls smiled at each other and kissed deeply.

Melinda’s fake cock drove Courtney to another toe-curling orgasm.

“My work here is done,” Melinda said, pulling the dildo from Courtney’s still-bleeding pussy. “She’s all yours, ladies.”

“No!” Courtney said. “Please, Mrs. Lunsford, fuck me some more…” But Melinda was already walking away. The women surrounding the sexy thirteen-year-old fell on her like wolves on a wounded animal.

Miss Jenkins, Kristen’s former teacher, happened to be in the right place at the right time. She was on her knees between Courtney’s legs in seconds, licking up the young girl’s cum and virgin blood.

She was followed by at least a dozen more, each relishing her chance to taste the lovely young girl one more time. Courtney’s hymen was in tatters, but she was still only thirteen and she was still delicious.

Even Kristen took a turn. She couldn’t resist her best friend’s cunt, sloppy as it was with girl cum and saliva. Sweet Kristen was gratified that she was able to make Courtney reach orgasm again, even as she trembled with exhaustion.

A few of the women got up on the table and rubbed their wet pussies on Courtney’s face. The little brunette was helpless to stop them even if she had wanted to, pinned as she was by numerous hands.

Finally the women had all taken a turn with little Courtney, all except one. The mysterious woman in the dark suit and fedora knelt between the young girl’s sticky legs and removed her hat. Kristen’s mouth fell open in shock.

“At last, it’s my turn,” she said.

Courtney knew the voice instantly, of course. But no! It couldn’t be! Not here! Not now!She raised her head and pushed a sweaty lock of hair out of her eyes.

“Mom?” she said.

The end

Spa Day, Part Two

  • Posted on April 23, 2018 at 10:27 am

By: Sunnybunny

(If you’ve not read Part One, you should do so before reading this part.)

The door slid open and Lillian appeared, flanked by another girl around her own age. She was dressed in the same white smock and stockings and clogs. Her raven hair was braided and so long it came to the middle of her back. She had dark, Spanish eyes, the kind that would melt boys’ hearts one day but fixed in the face of a child. She smiled upon entering and it felt genuine.

“Hello, Rosalind,” the new girl greeted. Her accent was a kitten’s purr. “My name is Catarina. I’ll be your masseuse.”

Rosalind half rose, cupping a hand to her chest. She looked from one girl to the other. Had she really been so foolish as to expect an adult would be rubbing her down in a place like this?

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” she began.

Catarina shook her head. “Not at all. Lillian asked specifically for me, to attend you today. She was…” she paused, fighting for the right word. Her thick little eyebrows knit together in thought. “Insistent, that I be the one.”

“Catarina is the best massage technician we have,” Lillian said, arms folded and watching in admiration.

The Spanish girl dropped her eyes shyly. “Lillian, you will make me blush!”

Rosalind motioned to gather her towel around her but Lillian eased her back down. “Rosalind, please. She really is the best, don’t let her age distract you. Give us a chance, and I’m sure you’ll see that this place isn’t as scary as you think.” She hopped up onto the table beside Rosalind and crossed her legs. The smock rod up higher on her thigh and the older woman could not help but stare.

“Ms. Winters clearly saw something in you,” Lillian said. She knew what Rosalind was looking at and scooted her butt a little, making the garment ride up even higher. “Otherwise, she would not have brought you here.”

She had said something similar before. What did that even MEAN? That her boss thought Rosalind was a…a…a something?

“You enjoyed seeing those girls at the pool, didn’t you?” Lillian asked rhetorically. “Maybe wished it was you in the pool with them?”

Without meaning to, Rosalind pictured the scene. Her, rather than Patricia Wilson, falling into the pool in a tangle of nubile bodies. She shivered visibly and had to close her eyes but that only made the images more vivid. The girls’ freckles were so much more pronounced. Their matted hair just aching to be pushed out of their faces. The little cleft in their chests where breasts might one day blossom…

She shuddered visibly and when she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of Lillian’s panties. They were only just visible beneath her smock, a hint of white between her pale legs. They looked more like lingerie than girl’s panties. No Wonder Woman logos to be found, only incandescent fabric and swirling patterns. Their eyes met and Lillian grinned all the wider. “Let us take care of you, okay?”

Rosalind felt herself nod. Just an observer to the scene, watching from far way.

Lillian hopped off the table and went to sit in nearby wicker chair, taking the delicious sight of her undergarments with her, much to Rosalind’s surprised dismay.

Catarina took her cue and went to the table and retrieved a series of bottles of scented lotions. “Lay down, please.”

Rosalind heard caps snapping free from containers, felt the girl move closer to the table. She watched from the hollow in the table as Catarina’s shadow fell into view. Then, the distinct sound of a zipper.

Rosalind raised her head and watched the child taking down the zipper at the side of her gown and slipping it smoothly down her body. It pooled at her feet and she casually kicked it away. She was naked underneath.

Rosalind felt her chest go excruciatingly tight as the vision flooded her mind. Her skin was bronze all over, with no hint of tan lines anywhere about her. Her hips were narrow and the arches of her pelvis were visible at her sides. Catalina’s breasts were beginning to bud but little more than mounds of tender flesh for now. They were capped with nipples the color of dark chocolate. Rosalind had always favored dark chocolate….

Catarina let Rosalind drink in her nakedness without showing the slightest hint of shyness. Her arms hung loosely at her side, one toe twisting into the tatami mat. She had all the time in the world and felt no shame having a grown woman ogling her body.

“Are you ready?” she asked. Again, there was no hurry in her question. She would be perfectly content to stand before Rosalind as she was.

Rosalind didn’t know if she replied or not but lowered her head to the hollow again. The lotion was warm against the flesh of her back, but it didn’t stop her from breaking out into goosebumps. She felt small fingers kneading into her flesh like a baker with fresh dough. They moved with grace and skill that defied her young age. She was a craftsman and this was her element.

Rosalind’s head swirled with new questions about Catarina’s training, how long she had been here, massaging strange women with no clothes on. Where were her parents? Was she living here alone, or were they all living on site somewhere? Just one big happy family….

Catarina’s nimble fingers danced over her shoulders, wound themselves around her neck and dug into the space between Rosalind’s shoulder blades, and one by one the concerns faded away. Certainly not gone but lost in the swirl of scented oils and deft hands. She felt herself slipping away, realizing simultaneously that she may fall asleep and did not much care if she did. Just so long as Catarina didn’t stop. She felt the table shift slightly as the girl climbed up with her. Without looking, Rosalind knew she had both knees apart, seating herself lightly on the woman’s buttocks with only a folded over towel between them. Catarina’s palms pressed into the small of Rosalind’s back and firmly pushed up. Rosalind could hear a humming somewhere in the room and it took her a long time to realize that it was her, moaning in enjoyment.

“Roll over, please.”

Rosalind had to swim up from the depths of sleep to reply. “Hmm?”

Catarina repeated herself soothingly. Her voice was low and intoxicating, not just a trick from drowsiness. “Roll over, please. I’m going to massage your front now.”

Rosalind stretched and nodded, waiting to see if the girl would move and allow her the extra room but she made no motion to leave the table. Rosalind placed a hand over the towel to keep it in place and rolled her hips to the side, trying to be very careful not to flash the room. Modesty was beginning to seem silly now, with a naked girl with who knows how much experience being without clothes before clients straddling her waist. Rosalind settled onto her back with the towel in place and was met with a disapproving shake of the head.

“If I am going to massage you,” Catarina explained. “The towel is going to have to be removed.” Her fingers looped themselves into the fold and gave it a gentle tug, watching Rosalind’s face carefully for any sign of protest. Rosalind trembled at the idea, exposing herself to a child! They were so close now. Catarina was practically sitting in her lap. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off the girl’s body, mingling with her own….

Rosalind looked around for Lillian, hoping she would plead with Catarina on her behalf since her voice had abandoned her. She found Lillian still seated in the chair, white smock smoothed down around her slender body and white stockinged legs crossed at the knee. She was a picture of patience and maturity. Their eyes met, Rosalind pleading with hers to help before things crossed some invisible line and there would be no going back. Lillian’s reply was a serene smile. Her head nodded forward so slightly it may have just been the woman’s imagination. She made sure Rosalind was watching and unfolded her legs. With her knees spread apart wide, she was greeted by another peek beneath her smock and the lacy panties underneath. It had the same heart-stopping effect on Rosalind as it did before only the girl wasn’t done. Like a magician before a captive audience, she held her palms out. Nothing up my sleeves! Her fingers went to the corner of her panties, where silk met flesh, and pulled them aside.

The towel fell away from her middle, completely forgotten now. She felt hands on her shoulders, guiding her to lay down again. She was frozen, unable to even speak. The image of Lillian’s smooth sex had burrowed into her mind. Rosalind stared up at the ceiling tiles, still seeing the crease of flesh where the girl’s hips met her pelvis, the subtle veins running up the inside of her thigh, the puffiness of those tender lips devoid of blemish….

Catarina squeezed a generous portion of lotion into her cupped hand. She rubbed her palms together but instead of applying it to Rosalind, she smoothed it over her belly in wide circles. It reminded her of how cartoon characters mimed hunger. Catarina worked the motion up her frame, giving her small breasts a squeeze and rubbing more lotion in until her entire front was glistening. She smiled reassuringly and placed her palms flat on the table, crawling forward until they were facing one another from inches apart. “I hope the massage is to your liking,” she cooed. She lowered herself onto Rosalind, pressing their bodies flush. Rosalind went wide eyed, realizing all at once what was about to transpire. She had heard of such massages in Japan and China but never dreamed she would ever experience one herself!

Catarina took her stunned silence for a sign of approval and snickered. She flexed her knees, drawing herself up along Rosalind’s middle and down again. The girl’s breasts felt incredible against her, soft and warm, small and delicate…such a huge contrast to her own. The child lovingly smothered every inch of her body, smearing lotion between them. Her hands inched along her thighs, up her ribs, fanned out along her outstretched arms. Rosalind was lost in the sensation, hopelessly drowning in lust until it was impossible to distinguish where Catarina’s body ended and hers began.

Rosalind was writhing now, heels sliding along the length of the table. Her hands uselessly groped at the air around her, the lust like an electric current until her body was a live wire. At last it erupted from her lips in a tawdry moan that seemed to go on and on. The child purred into her ear, nuzzled her throat with sweet kisses. She was murmuring something in Spanish and though Rosalind was bilingual, her words were adrift in a sea of pleasure. Her whimpering was quelled only when Catarina pressed her mouth to Rosalind’s own, filling the older woman’s mouth with fire.

Rosalind marveled at the girl’s experience. Catarina’s tongue tickled at Rosalind’s lips, begging entry. She opened her mouth and the child shifted her weight forward, deepening their embrace, like she was trying to lick Rosalind down to her very core.

Rosalind wrapped her arms around the youth at last. The child’s body felt so impossibly small, pressed together as they were. She flattened her hands out against Catarina’s back, exploring the ridges of her shoulder blades down to the small of her back. Her fingers traced easily over the gentle rise of the girl’s buttocks, feeling out where her hips began and the cleft of her cheeks. Catarina sighed heavily into her ear. Her warm breath drew out a fresh wave of goosebumps.

“Yes,” she breathed, her tongue cutting light zigzags up and down Rosalind’s throat, searing both hot and cold at once. “Do with me as you please…”

The words sent Rosalind’s imagination into another frenzy. They came faster and faster, disappearing almost as soon as they appeared to make room for others like cars on a speeding freeway. A flash of Catarina wearing kitten ears with matching paws but not a shred of more clothes. It was replaced by Catarina dressed up in a sheer nightie, the spaghetti straps rolled down to expose her little breasts. It did not stick around long before Catarina was joined by Lillian, both buried in a pile of sheets and pillows up to their chins, beckoning Rosalind over to discover for herself if they were wearing anything underneath.

The orgasm caught them off guard. Rosalind did a half-sit up, clutching the girl tightly to her middle with her mouth open in a silent scream. It was the only thing she could think to do, grasp onto anything (or anyone) like an anchor and ride out the tidal waves of pleasure.

How long her orgasm was sustained, Rosalind did not know. The force of the intense pleasure blanked her mind, enveloped her very being in a cocoon of sensual delight. Her body had burst open, exposing herself like a nerve for all to see. She felt like a bonfire that got out of control, escaped its pit and threatening to engulf anyone fool enough to be caught idling too near.

God, had she ever come so hard in her life? She was having a difficult time focusing her attention on much of anything, but she doubted it. Rosalind had taken only five other lovers before, two of them college one-night stands. She enjoyed those experiences. She enjoyed the intimacy, the closeness she felt while those men moved on top of her. Rosalind liked to rake her fingers through their hair while they thrust into her and wrap her legs around their working thighs. She conjured up those times now, drew them out of the haze, compared those lovers to Catarina without meaning to.

It suddenly occurred to Rosalind the key difference to all those sexual encounters. While those men had been passionate and eager, not one of them had managed to bring her to orgasm on his own. She had a few close calls, but the climax was always the same: He would finish and roll away and offer her some platitudes, how ‘hot’ or ‘amazing in bed’ she was while fighting to stay awake. Rosalind had always been too polite to do anything more than snuggle into their arms until they drifted off to sleep. Only then would she dare to slip away onto her side and finish the job they started and bring herself to a paltry orgasm.

Catarina’s flushed smile appeared out of the fog, hovering above. Their lips met again only there was no wantonness to it now. Her work was done now and the way her eyes shined, she was feeling more than pleased with her performance. “I hope you enjoyed your massage, ma’am,” she cooed, their mouths inches apart. She spoke just above a whisper, so close Rosalind felt the words rather than heard them. She nodded her head, breathing too hard to reply properly. She was having doubts if she would ever get her breath back after Catarina…

Rosalind had turned a corner in her life. Before her stretched a long, unfamiliar avenue and there would be no going back. She was lost now, a veritable Pandora’s Box that could never be closed again. It was a frightening notion to dwell on and Rosalind found herself searching the table for her towel. what would become of her now that this beast had been awakened? Would she find her eye drawn to the bodies of children while waiting in line at the supermarket? Would she linger on the way their clothes hugged against their frames until it was committed to memory for later and she could fuck herself into another thrilling climax, desperate for another session with Catarina and her magic fingers on her massage table?

Perhaps sensing Rosalind’s growing apprehension, Catarina’s traced a finger along the older woman’s chin, drawing her gaze back until their eyes had met again. “You will come back and see me again, won’t you?” It wasn’t a manipulative gesture. Catarina perhaps said this to all her clients, but it was a sincere gesture of compassion to help calm Rosalind’s nerves. “I would love to massage you like that again.”

Rosalind shivered at the thought but abandoned her search for the towel, lost in those Spanish eyes. Her mind flashed back to the waiting room, to the clipboard and a series of boxes in the middle marked ‘Sensual Massage.’ There was even a little space to write in which masseuse she preferred.

Catarina smoothed her thumb over Rosalind’s bottom lip, leaned forward, kissed it gently.

Lillian appeared at their side. Rosalind had not heard her move. She had the towel folded over her arm like a bathroom attendant. She was all smiles.

“Thank you, Catarina,” She chirped, helping the girl down from the table. “It’s always fun to watch you work.”

Catarina used one of the spare towels to pat her front down, making a playful slap at Lillian with the towel. “Oh, you! So bad!” She sniggered and stuck her tongue out. “You tease but never join. Why is that?” The banter was so casual and wouldn’t have looked out of place in any other work environment. Rosalind marveled at them, unable to will herself off the table just yet.

Lillian waited until Catarina had pulled the smock over her head and offered to zip her before replying. “I wouldn’t want to steal her away from you! That would cut into your tips!”

Rosalind blinked. Was she supposed to tip? She hadn’t bothered to bring any cash with her…

Sensing her distress, Lillian leaned over, “You don’t really need to tip. That was a joke.”

Catarina busied herself with the lotion bottles and towels, tidying up for the next client. She took the stack of Rosalind’s clothes and brought them over, but Lillian laid a hand on them first, lowering the bundle to the table.

“You seem to be very comfortable now, Rosalind,” Lillian intoned. “Perhaps you would like to spend the rest of your visit as you are?”

Rosalind was taken aback by the idea. She looked down at her naked body as if seeing it for the first time. The fullness of her breasts, the supple expanse of her thighs, the thatch of dark pubic hair…she remembered the women at the pool. Patricia Wilson, fiancée of some energy magnate who likely knew nothing of her spa visits, chasing two naked children into the pool. Could Rosalind be so bold? Would she ever be able to laugh so gaily, indulge her perversion so easily?

Rosalind’s heart fluttered, desire wrestling with reason and everything she had been brought up to believe. Lillian smiled patiently, pushing the articles against Catarina’s smock. “Will you please see that these are cleaned and wrapped up for our guest?”

Catarina nodded, catching the older woman’s eye. “Of course. They will be waiting for her.” She wasn’t talking to Lillian though. She smiled knowingly, “There is no reason to be shy here. This is the Garden of Eden, and there is no shame, see?”

She bounced out of the room then, skipping on her stockinged feet with Rosalind’s bundle of clothing clutched to her abdomen. It did not fill the older woman with apprehension, watching her leave. She wondered if she would ever feel embarrassment again. She wondered if she cared.

They watched her go, neither making a move until the door slid shut behind her. Lillian helped Rosalind down too, “Would you like to go for a swim now? Perhaps join Ms. Wilson and her attendants?” She was so polite and proper, speaking about such lewd things as if they were remarks about the weather. It gave Rosalind a thrill that would no longer be denied. She wanted to know her more, to know what it was like for the girl to say words like ‘pussy’ or ‘fuck’ or…her tummy gave a tug. Cunt, yes, that would be the hottest of all….

“I would suggest a steam but you’re plenty overheated already,” she teased before tapping a contemplative finger to her cheek. “I could show you the communal baths? Those are quite popular here, though not as much as the massage tables.” Lillian spied something on Rosalind’s face. She chuckled, “What? You have an idea?”

Rosalind nodded, wetting her lips before speaking. “I…would like to have you escort me to the communal baths.” Lillian nodded and made a motion for the door, but she wasn’t finished. “…naked.”

Lillian glanced back around, a hint of surprise arching her eyebrows high. “Naked, you said?” Without another word, Lillian unzipped her smock and slipped it easily over her head.

The smock flittered to the floor and she bent down to roll the stockings down her slim thighs, uncovering unblemished skin one inch at a time. Rosalind took a step back, admiring the girl’s body as it was slowly revealed to her. Sensing the eyes playing on her body, Lillian turned slightly as she worked on her stockings, bending over a little further and showing off her plump buttocks. It occurred to Rosalind how criminal the spa uniforms were. Soft and professional as they were, the layer of clothing was featureless and undistinguished. In an establishment like this, why would you hide beautiful pearls inside such unflattering clams? Rosalind tried to imagine an alternative, picturing Lillian and Catarina in skirts so small they might have been doilies, then again in harnesses straight out of a Marilyn Manson music video, but it was a fruitless exercise and Rosalind began to understand. The attire, no matter how unflattering, exuded professionalism and class. The spa was far more than just a brothel but an upper-class establishment catering to women whom society would otherwise shun and demonize. Here, they were treated as honored guests indulging in relaxation techniques not found anywhere else in the world.

Lillian folded the stockings over into a tight ball and dropped them into a pile with the smock, standing before Rosalind in only her panties. Her thumbs were looped into the strings at her hips, hesitating. “Would you like to remove these, madam?”

Rosalind had to grit her teeth to keep them from chattering, so pent up with nervous anticipation. “O-of course…”

She stepped forward on legs made of bread sticks and carefully knelt before the child. Their eyes met and held until the last shred of the girl’s clothing was off. Rosalind wished later she had done it with her teeth.

“You may keep them, if you like,” Lillian smiled.

Rosalind made a motion to toss them aside with the rest. “I can have them?”

Lillian chuckled naughtily. “So you’ll remember to come back and see me again.”

Rosalind wet her lips and closed her hands over the pair of panties, folding them carefully into a square that fit into the palm of her hand. She did not dare smell them now for fear of what it might make her do…

Lillian offered her hand to help Rosalind back to her feet. Rosalind took it but did not bother to rise. She was so close to the girl now and studied her sex from inches away. It was so incredibly perfect, Rosalind had never seen something so lovely. The little petals of her flower so supple and fair, radiating an exquisite fragrance. She longed to pull them apart again, to see the rose-pink bud within but was afraid of hurting Lillian in her excitement.

“Have you been with many women?” Rosalind blurted the question out. Surprising, given how dry her mouth was. Could something so flawless have ever known sex?

“Oh, yes,” the girl said, taking both of Rosalind’s hands in hers and raising her up. “Many, many women. Far too many to count.” There was no shame in her admission, no guilt. If anything, she seemed amused by the question. “I don’t have to ask you the same question. Catarina was your first.”

Rosalind felt her cheeks redden but had no idea why. Did it really matter if she had never been with a woman? Did it really matter how many women Lillian had been with? The spa was no place for modesty or shaming anyone for their sexual nature. Yet, she had to know more….

“Did you…I mean, were you ever….?”

Lillian led them back into the hallway, patiently waiting for Rosalind to puzzle out her question in just the right way before it became clear that it was hopeless. “You’re asking, if I was forced to work here against my will?”

Rosalind looked relieved, nodding eagerly. “Yes, yes, that!”

It was a question the girl had answered countless times before. She could anticipate them now, they always came up with the first timers. “I’ve lived at the spa for as long as I can remember,” she explained, leading Rosalind down a corridor. They were holding hands. “Most of the staff here were runaways or abandons or taken in as fosters. Others were rescued from…less reputable places, like the spa only…not.” Her voice took on a dark, ominous tone, speaking about those places before evening out again. “My parents gave me up for adoption when I was a baby, but Catarina came from an orphanage in El Salvador. Ask around, you’ll get all kinds of stories, some of them are heartbreaking.”

“And you are…happy here?”

Lillian enthusiastically nodded. “Of course! They take care of us, feed us, make sure we get a good education.” She grinned like a cat. “Have all the sex we want.”

Rosalind had to admit, that did not sound half bad.

“And we get to choose which clients we service and have total say in what we do with them during the visit and can say ‘No’ at any time to anyone for anything.”

Rosalind asked, “What happens when you grow up? This place only caters to one kind of client, so what happens when you’re too old for most of the women who come here?”

“We graduate at 18 and the spa sets us up with an apartment somewhere, helps the girls get good jobs and adjust to living in the…” she made little air quotes with her fingers. “…real world. They get us into good colleges and careers since we’re all so well-connected. Most of the girls go on to live normal lives, get married, have families. You’d never know they grew up in a place like this at all, by talking to them.”

Rosalind smirked. “Anyone famous that I would know?”

“Probably, but I can’t say.”

They shared a laugh. Their linked hands swung easily between them, old friends out for a stroll through the halls.

Lillian took the lead and directed Rosalind to a tall set of doors. “Here we are.”

The floor gave away to tiles now, opening to a pristine white locker room that Rosalind’s entire apartment could have fit inside. The sound of countless showerheads all running at once filtered in from the adjacent rooms. Her guide was quick to stow the gifted pair of underwear in one of the empty lockers.

The path narrowed and wound around tightly before widening up again. Rosalind was not the least surprised to find it a wide barren room, with no divides between shower stalls at all. Stainless steel snakes slithered from the walls, spitting steaming water down onto a dozen or so naked bodies, half hidden in all the steam. Their hands linked again, Rosalind curling her fingers tightly around the girl’s palm. It had been muffled within the walls, but the moans of Sapphic pleasure were deafening now.

Ghostly apparitions flickered in and out of the haze. A dark-haired woman had her back pressed up against a bare wall, both hands cupping her own breasts while a youth half her size buried a tongue between her legs.

Beside them, a short blonde woman had her head bent down low so a girl that could not have been any older than five massaged shampoo into her scalp.

Further still, a tall African American woman was seated beneath the showerhead, cradling two girls at either side of her amble breasts, writhing as they suckled greedily at her large nipples.

Lillian guided her to a vacant spot above a drain and twisted the knobs until a hot blast of water drenched them.

The sounds and heat were beginning to be too much, and Rosalind slumped against the wall, pressing her back into the heated tiles. She tried to shut her eyes and focus on the sound of running water, hoping the white noise would help her get her bearings. The sounds of sex only grew, the woman beside them climaxing loudly.

Her thighs parted on their own volition. She looked over, catching the woman in the throws of passion and caressed herself. Rosalind’s cleft was sobbing, and her fingers slid inside easily, sending electric sparks into her abdomen. “Oh God,” she cried. “Oh God, oh God!”

When she opened her eyes, they fell upon Lillian, looking heavenly beneath a spray of water. Her body was steaming, Aphrodite birthing from the sea, looking so bold and proud and Rosalind just knew she would be someone of great esteem someday. Lillian would grow into a state senator, an ambassador or maybe a philanthropist like Veronica Winters. She could see it so clearly in her mind, it was like looking through a kaleidoscope and into the future. Their eyes met briefly before Rosalind’s eyes rolled away with a fresh wave of pleasure radiating from her core.

Their bodies met beneath the hot jets, their mouths a moment after. Rosalind kissed her desperately, parched for the girl’s affection, fingers still working feverishly between her thighs. Lillian met her pace, indulged her urgency but only briefly. Her kisses drew back, becoming less intense, willing Rosalind to slow her pace. She picked up the thread and stilled the hand on her sex. Drawing it away felt like a knife being plucked from her heart. The lust she had felt with Catarina roared back to life. The bonfire was a towering inferno. Denied for eons, her phoenix of desire would finally spread its great wings and soar.

The last knot in her mind that still clung to social pressures about what sort of desire was deemed acceptable, the final barrier between the woman and the girl, gave way and Rosalind was free.

Her forced desire for a man’s touch would be erased. She would never take another man to bed again.

Rosalind encircled Lillian into her arms, drawing her into a tender embrace. The blaze fed on the girl as if she were kindling, but it was contained. She could savor the sensation of slick skin and the scent of soap. It gave her time to appreciate the subtle beauty in their lovemaking. Yes, she was making love to this girl, this child and she felt no shame. She wondered if she would miss that side of herself that had clung to conservative ideas of what love could be.

Later, she decided. I’ll worry about that later. For now….

She touched Lillian’s chin, looking into her eyes from inches away. “I have to have you, Lillian,” she intoned. The declaration drew the faintest of smiles from Lillian. She had known all along where their time together would take them, and now that it was here at last, she looked serene. “What is it you have to have?”

Rosalind took a trembling breath. “I need to taste you. I need to have you in my mouth while I come.”

“I think I would like that very much.”

Rosalind’s knees nearly fell out from beneath her. Rosalind had never wanted anything more in her life. Christmas presents, high school crushes, job offers and college acceptance letters….nothing compared.

Cliché as it was, Rosalind kissed her way down the child’s throat, her cool lips leaving ghostly imprints in her flesh, there and gone in an instant. She took special care at each nipple, lavishing each in turn with special kisses and flicks of her tongue. The older woman was delighted to feel them swelling to needle points between her lips and only allowed herself to move on when Lillian pressed her lower.

She pecked at the girl’s belly, making a trail until she breached her pubis.

Shower water cascaded around them, creating rivulets on her pale body before meeting at a waterfall over the girl’s sex. Rosalind opened her mouth to it, drinking in the tap water that tasted faintly of…her. Lillian’s hands caressed Rosalind’s cheeks, rising onto her tip-toe. Gingerly, she drew Rosalind’s mouth to her.

I’m going to do it, the woman realized dizzily. I’m going to eat someone’s pussy. No, not someone’s. Lillian’s. Lillian’s pussy. It was always supposed to be her….

The girl’s sex exploded against her tongue like a ripe peach, overwhelming Rosalind and nearly driving her to climax. Lillian gasped above her. She felt the girl’s fingers flexing into Rosalind’s scalp, holding her head in place while her mouth explored. The taste grew with the child’s arousal, thickening on her tongue. Rosalind wrapped her arms around Lillian’s middle, holding her steady while she savored the most intimate of places. Her gentle cries gradually formed words. “Oh, Rosalind. Oh, God, yes, right there! You’re going to make me come!”

The idea of Lillian cumming in her mouth filled her up with a lewd thrill and she could not longer deny herself. A hand flew to her own sex that sent lightning bolts thundering through her body. She moaned into Lillian’s small sex, her cries muffled but growing in intensity. Their arms and fingers clawed at one another’s body, frantic to stay connected.

“Rosalind I’m cumming! I’m going to cum please god, don’t stop I’m-!”

Rosalind had her tongue so far inside she felt the girl’s walls tense around her, could literally feel her orgasm take hold. It was immediately followed by a flood of fresh nectar that she happily drank down. It burned in her throat and nose like liquid fire.

Her lapping and suckling was only stopped by a hard orgasm of her own. Her abdomen bunched up and she would have pitched away if not for her and Lillian’s fierce embrace. They remained cradled together until the intensity of their shared pleasure subsided and gravity returned to the world beneath them. 

***

Veronica Winters emerged punctually from her own sensual stay three hours later and found Rosalind seated in the lobby where she had left her. For a brief, irritating moment, she feared her secretary had declined what she truly believed to be a wonderful, life-altering experience. Then her keen eye took notice of Rosalind’s still damp hair, worn down now and combed out to curl loosely at her shoulders. Her clothes, too, looked freshly pressed, but most telling of all was the way the woman carried herself. There was an ease to it now. Her shoulders were raised and straighter, head higher with an out-thrust chin. A world’s worth of weight had been lifted, just as Veronica predicted it would. The therapy here did not take years or months or even weeks to reveal results.

“I trust you enjoyed yourself,” Veronica stated. “What’s that you have there?” She nodded to the woman’s hands, clutched protectively between her knees.

Shyly, Rosalind opened her palms up, revealing a pair of child-sized underwear. The sight pleased Veronica immensely, and she allowed herself a smile. She recognized the pattern as Lillian’s right away. The girl gave them to all first-timers, and they had become something of a right of passage at the spa. Like Mickey Mouse ears at Disneyland, you did not leave without a souvenir. Ms. Winters herself had a pair just like them at home that she cherished dearly. They still smelled faintly of Lillian.  During times of duress, she would take them out of their box in her room and hold them in her hand or to her nose until she could collect herself again and get back to work. But there was no reason to tell Rosalind that now. Let her enjoy that specialness, she thought, gesturing to the door.

It was time to leave.

The End

Revolutionettes, Chapter 16

  • Posted on April 21, 2018 at 10:52 am

By Amanda

1803 – Paris 

“Tell me you’ve recovered some of what you lost in Philadelphia. That you have some joy now,” I said to Catherine.

She smiled at me and stroked my back. I leaned against her shoulder, enjoying her matronly tenderness. “My daughter brings me much joy. And my soon to be ‘former husband’ — that brings me joy to say.”

“He has agreed to grant a divorce?” I asked, excited.

“He did, when it became clear that I held next to nothing in my own name. If he outlived me, then he would find himself destitute. I offered him a ship and one hundred and fifty thousand in gold, which is a great deal more than my death would give him. So now I will confess to adultery, and that will be the end of it.”

“Aren’t you concerned about what that will do to your reputation?”

“Be serious, girl. Adultery is a matter of course for a woman of my station. I would only need be concerned if he knew how true the confession was, or worse, with whom exactly I was unfaithful. As it stands, he believes I am a woman of virtue and would never suspect what I get up to when I am away from him. Besides, girl, I command significant wealth and power. Shunning me would do those in polite society more harm than it would me. Even if I were to lose my ships and plantations, my assets are such that I could live as I always have for the rest of my life, and with what was left my daughter could do the same.”

“You are frightening woman, Catherine Pennington.”

“I most certainly am,” she laughed. Then she went on, “But what of you, look at yourself. A tavern, a home, the parties, this is all too much to take in. I wish I could say you reminded me of myself at your age but I had yet to find my way then. No, indeed you are something to be admired.”

It felt good hearing that from her. Catherine’s praise was, well, it was worth more than anything else I could get from all this, save perhaps Sandra.

“Where is she, Liz?” Catherine asked.

“Who?”

“You know who. That girl that’s won your heart. Josephine’s maid, Sandra. She was just a child when I was with her mistress.”

I called Sandra and she rushed to kneel before me. After I gave a slight look of disapproval, she joined us on the sofa we occupied.

“Sandra, you’ve met Catherine,” I said.

She nodded. I did not know if she was saying she had met her, or was simply acknowledging me.

“I’m glad to see you are well, miss.” said Sandra.

Catherine chuckled. “You remember me, then?”

Sandra did not respond.

“So, now you’ve stolen the heart of my darling Liz. Let me get a good look at you. I’ve not seen you since you were a girl of only… ten, was it?”

Sandra nodded her head, but replied, “I’m sorry, miss. I don’t remember you so well.”

“I dare say not. I’m sure many women have come and gone from Josephine’s house, and I was but one. You are a beautiful girl, aren’t you?” Catherine said with a bright smile. “My word, Liz, how could you entice such a lovely creature into your bed?”

“You wound me, Catherine,” I said. “I seem to remember, it wasn’t long ago you asked Maddy the same of me.”

“Ah, but that’s always how it is, isn’t it?” She turned to me. “Are we really ever worthy of the women who love us?”

“You talk like a man,” I laughed.

“Not any I’ve ever known,” Catherine replied. “Perhaps only us tom boys, as you call us, need worry ourselves over that. I suppose a beauty like yourself has little trouble attracting a woman to her.”

“Come now, I think women find tom boys have a charm all their own. I suppose it’s all in what you prefer.”

“What say you, girl?” Catherine asked of Sandra. “Are you swayed by the charms of a ‘tom boy’?”

“No, miss. I’m sorry, it’s a lady I am drawn to.”

“Good answer,” Catherine laughed. “We’re a terrible sort. Cussing, drinking, womanizing…”

“Stop teasing her, Catherine,” I scolded. “You’ve never uttered a cuss word in your life. And I’ve seen you drunk exactly once, and that was not without good reason.”

“But I am a womanizer,” she chuckled.

“Well… I suppose we all are,” I agreed.

“Go and mingle with your guests, Liz. I’ll keep this lovely flower entertained.”

Sandra seemed distressed, but I knew her to be in no danger, so I did as Catherine suggested.

I soon found Alice, exactly where I could expect her, holding a guitar and surrounded by women. Seeing me, she set the instrument down and excused herself. “Oh, tell me you’ve come to seduce me, Liz. I’ve been dying to feel your touch for a year.”

“I promise that before this party is over you’ll be satisfied, but first I want to hear everything you have to tell me.”

“I’ve written nearly everything. There’s little more to tell. Things aren’t like they were, but they are good, and there’s plenty of fun to be had by all of us. I haven’t told you one thing, though. Catherine’s had a Negro girl at her house for months now. You know how her tastes run but she won’t say a word about it.”

“But she didn’t bring her. So, surely…”

“Didn’t she? The girl’s name is Charity, and she sits in a room in a hotel this very night.”

“I’ll send for her at once. Which hotel?”

“She won’t come. She doesn’t speak French, and she’s afraid,” Alice explained.

“Catherine!” I shouted.

A moment passed and she came to meet me, with Sandra on her arm.

“You left a lover in your hotel alone?” I frowned. “Bring her here this instant!”

“No, it won’t work. She’s a very timid girl. I couldn’t get her here, no matter how much I begged.” She half smiled, “I bought her from a very bad man. I don’t know for certain what he did to her, but I can guess.”

“I don’t care. I’m sending my driver. What hotel?” I wasn’t giving in.

“Forget it, Liz. I’ll return to her tonight and come back in the morning.”

“I won’t hear of it. Is she your lover, Catherine?” I asked pointedly.

She shot a less than approving glance at Alice and then looked back to me. “You know she is.”

“Then she is like my sister, and I’ll not have a sister left alone like that.”

“Impudent little child,” Catherine snorted. “Did I make you like this?”

“Yes, you did. I’ll go myself, or I can send my driver.”

“I’ll go,” sighed Catherine. “She’d never open the door to a stranger. I’ll tell her she has a sister that she must meet.”

“I’ll come too,” Alice volunteered. “If she’ll not hear you, she may hear me.”

“She won’t feel so out of place,” I said. “Jezebel is here, and I’m sure that make her feel more comfortable too.”

Catherine rolled her eyes as I called for Josette to summon the driver and bring their coats. Within a few moments, they were on their way along what I’d later find was a very short distance to the hotel.

With that settled, I took Sandra on my arm and began mingling with my guests, making sure to make each and every one feel as welcomed as I could.

Finally I happened upon Angelique and Jezebel. “Do you remember last year, how you thought I’d not meant for you to come?” I asked the Negress.

“Yes, madame,” she answered.

“Soon another Negro girl will be here, no less unnerved by all this than you were. I hope I can count on you to help me welcome her.”

Jezebel nodded with an excited smile.

“You are a curiosity to me, Elizabeth.” Angelique said, taking her lover’s hand and pulling her close. “I love her, so I don’t much care what people think. But have you any idea how scandalous it is to even have Belle here?”

Jezebel and Angelique were mainstays at my tavern most nights it was open. They were known, and I had thought well liked. Their piano and song certainly seemed to entertain the customers.

“Are we really so cold that she is still mistreated?” I inquired.

“No,” Jezebel offered, “not since last year’s party.”

“Have I ever told you how I came to know her?” Angelique asked.

“Not really, I suppose.” I poured them both a glass of wine, then sat down to listen.

“She was a gift from my father. I was promised to be married, but my fiancé was killed when they took the Bastille. Father, thinking I was heartbroken, purchased her in Belgium and brought her to me as a friend to keep me company. Disgusting gesture, really.”

“And you stayed even, after they freed you?” I asked Jezebel.

“No. I had fallen in love with her already. It never really crossed my mind to leave. She taught me to read and write, even tried to teach me to play the piano, but I have no talent for it. I’m free, but I can’t really think of anywhere else I’d rather be,” Jezebel explained.

“Surely you have family? A mother and father?”

Jezebel laughed. “You really don’t know anything about slaves, do you? Obviously, I have a mother, who died trying to escape when I was five, and a father, though I haven’t any notion of who he is or where he might be.”

Angelique sipped her wine. “I suppose I was too young to know my father had bought her for me like a pet. I didn’t really understand that type of thing. She was my friend.” She pushed one of the long braids Jezebel wore her hair in away from the woman’s face, and grinned. “And then one night she became my sweetheart.”

“Must have been wonderful,” I said, smiling warmly.

“Oh, not at all. It was scandalous. I’m such a lecherous woman, you’d not imagine the terrible things I said to her, and the absolutely awful things we did. Why, I dare say it’s enough to make the De Sade blush.”

My shock was evident, and she began laughing heartily. “No, please don’t think ill of me. I’ve no stomach for violence.”

I think that if her skin were fairer, Jezebel would have blushed. “She’s teasing you, Miss Elizabeth,” Jezebel said. “My Angelique was a virtuous and proper lady. Twas I seduced her, and when I was but fourteen no less.”

“It’s true,” Angelique admitted. “I had just turned seventeen, and had several suitors, none of whom inspired the least response in me. And then, on a particularly harsh winter night, and me being the generous sole I am, I offered to let my friend sleep in my bed with me for fear she’d be cold in her pallet on the floor. Before I knew it, she’d wrapped her arms around me and was kissing me. That’s when I felt true passion for the very first time. I’m not like you, Liz, nor her. I never would have considered this life existed, much less that I would ever live it.”

“I don’t think any of us knew, until someone else brought it out of us,” I said. “I was taught my nature by a girl named Molly when I lived in Harrisburg…”

“I knew,” Eliza offered. She poured more wine into their glasses, and my own. “Alice too. But that shouldn’t be a shock, I suppose. Gypsies are an odd sort.”

She looked around. “What you see here is a mix of people from every class. It wouldn’t behoove us to pick and choose our friends on such superficial grounds as class or skin color. There aren’t enough of us to bother with such trivialities.”

“So, if there were more of us, then we should?” I quipped.

Eliza laughed, “No, not at all. Perhaps if you’d asked me many years ago, I’d have said we should all stay with our own kind, but I see things very differently now.” She patted my shoulder. “Catherine has a way about her. She changes the people that come to know her.”

Then she took my hand, brought me to my feet, and began to lead me away. “You’ve been missed. I’ve heard your name several times tonight. Perhaps you should speak to all of us.”

I agreed, and set about gathering the women into the parlor. I was about to begin speaking when Josette entered and announced that Catherine and Charity had arrived. With the room full, many was the whisper as they turned to see Catherine wearing a confident smile as she stepped into the room with a former slave on her arm.

“Good evening, ladies,” Catherine smiled. “So sorry to have interrupted.” Charity kept her eyes downcast and looked very uncomfortable.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jezebel approached to greet them as I followed close behind.

“My goodness, Catherine has an eye for beauty,” I said as I took Charity’s hand and kissed it. The girl immediately turned to Catherine who nodded toward me.

“My darling, this is the sister I spoke of, Elizabeth,” said Catherine.

“Miss,” said Charity as she offered a curtsey.

“Please, call me Liz,” I said. “We’re all friends here, there’s no need to stand on ceremony.”

I took her hand and drew her into the room. Annabelle Le Granade was the first to approach and greet her. Whatever the Madame’s opinions on slavery or Negros, she understood what I was doing and why, and did not hesitate to lend her support. Truthfully, for the women there, that was what was most effective. In the United States, Catherine’s blessing was all that one needed to tip the scales in their favor, but here it was the good Madame.

I led Charity to the front of the room where I raised my hand in the air. “Does anyone need a glass?”

Josette immediately left and returned moments later with a tray of filled champagne glasses. These she began passing out, bringing the last to me.

“Very good,” I told her.

“To my friends,” I toasted, “from both the new world and the old. And from my old life and my new one. Ladies, you honor me with your company tonight, and for the next two days I hope you will take advantage of all I have to offer.”

There was much clinking of glasses and shouts of ‘hear hear.’ I sipped from my flute and smiled. “Remember, there are no strangers here, only friends.”

It was time to catch Virginia now. I’d still no plan for the final night other than her, and with Annette here it was even better.

I found them both toward the entry of the parlor and caught their arms as I left, leading them to my small library. “Well I trust you’ve had time to reacquaint yourselves,” I teased. “Has the good sister mentioned the request I made of her?”

“No,” replied Annette, frowning slightly.

“It’s just as well,” Virginia chuckled.

“Were you able to find a habit?” I asked her.

She shook her head, and I was immediately disappointed.

“I thought about it, though. And about your offer. If you are truly certain you can employ me if I should be discovered, then I will happily do this.”

“I fear I’m asking too much of you,” I told her.

“You certainly are,” Virginia laughed. “But perhaps I want to be discovered.” She sighed, “Of course that’s not true. Or perhaps it wasn’t when I decided, but now that I see Annette…” She trailed off as her lover pulled her close. “I don’t know if I’ll go back now.”

“I’ll be quite pleased to have you here then,” I said, hugging her close. “And of course Annette is welcome any time. That is, if you choose to stay.”

I had to find Madame Le Granade to thank her for making such a public show of greeting Charity. I was headed for her when Alice stopped me and pushed me out of the parlor once more. “You made me a promise, didn’t you?” she laughed.

“I did, but —”

“But nothing. Take me to your room,” she insisted.

“Alice I have to —”

“I’m sure you do. But whatever it is will keep until morning.”

She grabbed my arm and drew me to the stair. I resigned myself and we climbed it, entering my room and closing the door behind us.

“I should find Sandra,” I said.

“She’ll be along,” Alice assured. “I asked her to come up and meet us here.”

“By god, girl, you are insatiable.”

“Oh no, nothing like that. I want her to give me permission.” Alice looked earnestly at me. “It’s not like before, is it? Before, you could do as you pleased, but now you have her to consider, don’t you?”

Ere I could answer, Sandra opened the door and entered. “You asked me to come, and… Miss Elizabeth, you’re here too. Pardon me,” she said, growing shy. “I misunderstood your purpose.”

“Not at all,” said Alice. “I’ll have you too, if Liz allows it. But for now, I was going to beg you to let me have just an hour with her, no more.”

“It is not my place to say what my mistress may or may not do,” said Sandra quietly.

“It most certainly is,” I snapped. “You’re my lover, and if you don’t approve, you can say so.”

“Then I approve,” she answered. Her tone seemed genuine, and she quickly left us alone. Of course she would approve, though. Exclusivity of a lover was not something she had ever experienced or been led to expect.

“Well, at long last,” said Alice. She pushed me across the room until I fell backward onto the bed. She immediately climbed over me and began kissing me while she pulled my dress off.

Whatever doubt I might have had melted away as her hands ran up and down my body. Soon enough we were both naked, caressing one another’s bodies. Alice sat back and looked down at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You know, Eliza and I will likely never be able to come back here. With the girl, and everything that’s happening in France right now, this might be the last time I see you, so I want to take a good long look… will you let me?”

“Oui, mon petit cheri.”

She traced her finger between my breasts down my belly to my groin. For a moment she seemed a bit sad, but she was soon smiling again. “Make love to me, Liz.”

Alice fell on me, kissing me and moving down my body. She suckled my nipples and nibbled at my sides and belly. Her soft lips tickled and I could hardly keep from laughing.

When at last she drove her fingers into me and covered my clitoris with her mouth, I was trembling with excitement. I ran my fingers through her hair, gently rocking as she lapped at my sex. “You’ve always been so dear to me, cheri.” I spoke in french, hardly realizing it.

She began sucking the magical knot that was a woman’s most sensitive spot. I moaned loudly as the fire of my climax built within me. Alice drove her fingers deep inside, ever faster until at last I cried out, awash in ecstasy.

I coaxed her forward, until she was positioned above me. I gently pulled her sex down to my mouth and returned the kiss she had just given.

Alice rocked, pushing hard against my face, but holding back just before it might be painful. She was moaning and sighing. The small girl, who indeed was hardly a girl any longer, fell forward onto her hands and I knew from experience that she was about to climax. I sucked her clitoris in to my mouth and rubbed my tongue across it hard. Her hips bucked as she grunted with her orgasm.

When it was done, she fell on her side and maneuvered around until she was facing me. “Will you suffer me to spend an hour with Sandra?” she whispered.

“Of course.” I kissed her lips and we pulled together. Each of us pressed a thigh between the other’s legs and we rocked back and forth, slowly at first, but then growing in intensity. I could feel she was becoming wetter as we kissed.

Alice was the first to climax, groaning and burying her head against my chest. As she orgasmed, suddenly I felt a splash of moisture on my thigh and almost lost concentration. However, my own climax followed closely and I forgot about what I’d felt, at least for the moment.

Breathless and sweating, we held each other a time and just enjoyed the feeling of it. “I felt something when…” I began, having recovered enough to regain my wits.

“That.” Alice grinned. “It only happens when it especially good. Eliza first caused it about six months ago. We’ve no clue what it is.” She began to giggle, “But I imagine that your sheets are as wet as your leg, and the scent of it will follow you all night.”

“We are enigmatic creatures, aren’t we?” I said. “Seems the mysteries that are women never end.”

“All the better,” Alice nodded. She sat up. “I think I’ll find your little wife and violate her much as I have you.”

She kissed my nose and jumped off the bed. She would have left naked had I not insisted that she at least put her underclothing on.

“By god, Liz, how did you find such a pretty little thing?” Alice winked before disappearing.

I quickly got up and dressed myself. We’d been gone too long, and I needed to return to my guests.

I was heading down the stairs as Sandra and Alice hurried past me, no doubt on their way to further soil my bed. As they passed, I was certain I caught a hint of a wicked smile playing at Sandra’s lips. That alone made everything about this party worthwhile.

Annabelle Le Granade appeared at the foot of the stair. First she looked at me, but was also able to catch a glimpse of Alice and Sandra before they reached the landing. She raised her glass, I presumed to them, before smiling at me.

I quickly joined her, kissing her cheek.

“How does that little gypsy do it, I wonder…” the Madame laughed.

“She’s very small and looks like a child. It’s disarming.”

“Indeed it is,” she agreed.

“And you, any prospects for the long weekend?”

“Be serious, darling.”

“I am,” I insisted. “I’ll not have you leave this place without being sated, if I must please you myself.” I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling close to her.

“You are a wicked girl,” she said. “But I must refuse.”

“Don’t I please you?” I asked coyly, batting my lashes.

“Indeed, darling. And believe me, the spirit is willing. But I’m afraid, child, that the flesh is weaker than I might let on.”

“Madame Le Granade,” I gasped. “Are you unwell?”

“Of course I am. I’m old, dear, and I’ll only ever get older.” She patted my head. “You know, Liz, if you’re going to offer me carnal pleasures, I must insist you call me Annabelle.”

We walked to my library and sat on a couch. She leaned against me.  “Have you any idea why I’ve shown you such favor these years?” she asked.

“I’m bold, and it endeared you to me.”

“Not at all. Why, when first you came to me I found you to be petulant, off-putting, and dangerously naive. I didn’t like you one bit, to be perfectly honest.”

I almost had to laugh at just how accurately she described the young girl who’d first stood before her.

“But I saw strength, I saw a kind of determination that made me think you might actually reach your ridiculous goals, and I found myself wanting to see what you might do.”

“Are you pleased now?” I asked.

“Very much. You breathed life into Paris. And into this old crone. You’ve done the impossible, Liz. I find it sad that it must all be kept secret, because what you have done is nothing short of miraculous.”

“It hardly seems that way, and I still have so much more I’d like to accomplish.” I leaned close, nuzzling here neck and whispering in her ear, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to help you relax a bit?”

“Wicked temptress. I swear you’ll be the death of me, girl.” She lay back on the couch and I couldn’t help but smile at her as I slipped my head beneath her dress.

Once Annabelle had climaxed, I drew out from under her dress and skirts and sat quietly stroking her belly. She lay smiling at me, seeming she might fall asleep at any moment.

“Shall I have Josette show you to your room?” I asked. “She can stay with you if you’d like.”

“You mean that precious little maid of yours?” The Madame shook her head. “As much as I’d love to have such a darling creature keep me company, I think it’s not fair to ask that of a child young enough to be my granddaughter.”

I searched the table next to the couch for the servant’s bell and rang it. “Nonsense, Madame. I only meant that she would sit with you a time.”

Within only a moment or two of my ringing the bell, Josette appeared.

“Josette, dear, show her to the west room, and keep her company until she falls asleep.”

I saw no harm in my maid sitting with her, and I believe Annabelle understood that the girl would not be serving her in any baser sense.

“Oui, madame.” Josette curtseyed and offered her arm to the older woman.

I watched them go, then proceeded to the parlor. The late hour and the abundance of drink was taking its toll on my guests. I looked around at the sleepy and drunken women, satisfied enough with the first night of the party.

“There are beds upstairs, or if you prefer you may retire here. If you have need of anything, call for me and I will see to it.”

I set about touring the house, blowing out candles and carrying empty glasses and wine bottles to the kitchen for the servants to take care of in the morning. I was not called upon, and satisfied that all my guests were settled for the night, I climbed the stair to my room. Therein I found Sandra lying in bed in the darkness. As carefully as I could, I slipped in next to her and pulled close.

“Is it you, miss?” she asked in the dark.

“Who else would it be?” I teased.

“I did not know if I was to serve the guests who came alone.”

“Is that what you thought I wanted you to do for Alice?” I asked.

“No, miss. Not for her.”

“Call me Elizabeth. I worry that you’re not being honest when you call me ‘miss’.”

Sandra rose up and I could just see the light glinting in her eyes. “Will I serve the ladies here?”

“Of course not,” I said. “If you fancy someone and she fancies you, then by all means, do as you will. But you are not my servant, and you most certainly are not the house entertainment.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“After the past year, how can you think I’d use you that way?”

“I don’t mind, miss. It is what I’m for. After all, there are far worse things a woman like us could be.”

“Who taught you that?” I asked, already knowing the answer. The first time she’d said it, I thought they were her own words, but I’d heard it many times in the past year and I realized she was repeating something taught her since she was a child.

“The mistress, of course.”

“Well, that is not how it is in my house. Now you drive that from your mind. You are my lover, not my plaything, and not my servant.”

I slept an uneasy sleep that night. Sandra seemed to be stumbling backward further into servitude than she’d been when first she came. I was plagued with terrible dreams of her returning to stay with Josephine.

Continue on to Chapter 17

Summer Love Chapter 6

  • Posted on April 19, 2018 at 10:14 am

by callmeQ67

Kristen said, “I’m scared, Courtney. I want to go home,” but she was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen.

The first thing Courtney had noticed when they entered the bar was the noise. The music was loud and so were the voices of the patrons. Then she saw that except for the two bartenders, everyone in the place was female. The joint was entirely filled with women drinking, laughing, and talking.

“Don’t worry,” said Courtney with false bravado. “Mrs. Lunsford will take care of us. Everything will be okay.”

The girls looked around for Melinda Lunsford, Courtney’s suburban socialite lover, but didn’t see her anywhere. They turned to Mrs. Leslie for answers but she had disappeared. The young teenagers began to get truly frightened, thinking Brooke had abandoned them. They may have been only thirteen years old, but they weren’t stupid. They knew what kind of place they were in.

Suddenly the music stopped, and there was Mrs. Leslie standing at the bar with a microphone in her hand.

“Good evening ladies!” she said, her voice booming from speakers by the dance floor. “Welcome to the twelfth annual fundraiser for Westchester College women’s athletics!”

There was some polite applause from the crowd.

“I’m Brooke Leslie, class of 1995, with tonight’s entertainment. As you all know, we’re here tonight to raise money for new locker room facilities for the Westchester Lions women’s basketball team.”

A cheer went up from a group of unusually tall young women.

Brooke continued, “Last year, the men’s basketball team got a brand new locker room, but the college refused to buy new facilities for the ladies. Is that fair?”

“No!” the crowd roared.

“Fucking right it isn’t!” said Brooke, “so tonight we’re here to take matters into our own hands, and give our Lady Lions the state-of-the-art facilities they deserve!”

More shouts of approval from the crowd.

“To help us, I’ve brought along two very special guests, but before I introduce them, I have a question for all of you.”

Here she paused for effect, making eye contact with many of the women.

“The question is: ‘Do you like pussy?’”

Some of the women cheered, while others laughed nervously.

“Do you like sweet, beautiful, fresh, unsullied teenage pussy?”

Another, louder cheer, and Courtney and Kristen traded stunned looks. Courtney looked towards the door, but a circle of women had formed around them blocking any possible escape route.

“Well then, ladies,” Brooke went on, “I think you’re going to enjoy tonight’s entertainment, and we’re going to raise shed loads of money for that new locker room.”

Brooke held up her hands to quiet the applause. She approached a woman standing at the front of the crowd. The woman was about thirty, attractive, if a bit plump, wearing jeans and a Westchester College sweatshirt. She was holding a pint glass of beer.

“What’s your name?” Brooke asked.

“Joanne,” the woman answered, leaning in towards the mic.

“Let me ask you something, Joanne. When was the last time you tasted a thirteen-year-old virgin’s pussy?” She held out the microphone so everyone could hear the response.

“Ah, never,” said Joanne, laughing.

“Would you like to?”

“Oh, my God, yes! That’s my biggest fantasy,” Joanne said, her words almost drowned out by the whistles and laughter of her friends.

“Then this is your lucky night, Joanne,” said Brooke. “Tonight we have not one, but two gorgeous thirteen-year-old virgins here to fulfill your fantasies.”

As the crowd roared its approval, the circle of women closed in on the two young girls.

“Courtney, Kristen,” Brooke said, “you’re needed front and center.”

The crowd parted for the two nervous teenagers, urging them forward. The girls had been at the back of the crowd, and Joanne didn’t see them until they reached the bar.

Her mouth fell open.

Here were two exceptionally pretty girls, both clearly underage, one slim and blonde, the other brunette, with rather pronounced curves for her age.

Both girls were dressed in white blouses with no evidence of a bra showing. They wore very short pleated tartan skirts and white knee socks. And most stunning of all, both girls were wearing thick leather collars inscribed with the words ‘FUCK TOY’ in shiny metallic block letters.

“What do you think, Joanne?” said Brooke.

“I can’t believe it!” Joanne gushed. “They’re gorgeous!”

“They are, aren’t they?” Brooke looked out into the crowd. “And ladies…” She paused, lowering her voice. “… I promise you that neither has been defiled by man or boy. But you don’t have to take my word for it. You’ll soon be able to inspect them for yourselves. And taste them, and lick them, and suck them. You can do anything but take their cherries.”

Another pause, with a few groans of disappointment from the crowd.

“That comes later,” Brooke added, to hoots and more cheers.

The two young friends looked at each other in horror. Melinda had told them only that they were going to a fund-raising event for her college, but it seemed that they were to be the entertainment for a lust-crazed pack of lesbians. And what was that business about ‘later’?

“Jack,” said Brooke, addressing one of the bartenders. “Our guests look nervous. I think they need a little liquid courage. How about some shooters for Kristen and Courtney?”

“Coming right up,” said the bartender, and quickly mixed a shaker of kamikazes. He poured two glasses and slid them across the bar.

Brooke gave the drinks to the girls, saying, “Drink up. You’ll like it.”

Courtney took a sip. Brooke was right, she did like it. The kamikaze tasted like lemonade.

“Come on, girls, bottoms up,” said Brooke. “The crowd is getting restless.”

Courtney looked at her best friend and shrugged. She raised the glass and drank it down. Kristen followed Courtney’s lead and drank. An unfamiliar warmth spread through her small body, all the way to her fingers and toes.

“Okay, one more,” said Brooke, handing them each another glass. The girls quickly drained their glasses. Courtney began to relax as the alcohol hit her brain.

“Now then, let’s get a better look at our two little hotties,” said Brooke’s voice through the loudspeakers. “I need a big, strong girl to give our young ladies a lift.”

“Yolanda! Yolanda!” shouted the basketball players. As the others cheered, one of them stood and approached the bar.

The center on the team, Yolanda was six foot five and over two hundred pounds. Her skin was the color of dark chocolate, and her hair was done in braids that fell to her shoulders. She dwarfed the two thirteen-year-olds, and even Brooke, who was close to six feet tall, had to stretch to kiss her.

“Yolanda, sweetie, could you give our two guests a hand up onto the bar?”

Yolanda said nothing, just grinned and took Courtney by her hips and lifted her to the bar top as easily as if she were a baby. Then she did the same with Kristen. The two young friends looked out at the crowd of women, then at each other.

“Now, girls,” said Brooke into the mic. “Why don’t you just let everyone have a good look at you?”

Then she spoke to a woman standing next to the juke box. “Maggie, some music, please?”

Maggie chose a CD and soon the slow, smoky beat of a classic blues number filled the place.

The thudding of the bass reverberated up through the bar to Courtney’s feet, and she started moving to the music. She looked at Kristen and saw that her friend could feel it too.

The two girls held each other by the hand and danced. Some of the women in the crowd whistled and cheered, while others watched in silence. It seemed impossible that two such beautiful young girls were dancing there on the bar, and they didn’t want to do anything that might break the spell.

There is something irresistible about childish innocence merging with nascent teenage hormonal urges.

The women needn’t have worried about any spell. The searing electric guitar seemed to set Courtney’s loins on fire, and she ground her crotch against Kristen’s hip.

Kristen spun her friend around so she could grind against Courtney’s round butt.

For the two young girls it was incredibly arousing to be the object of lust for so many women.

The crowd was going wild, some women screamed at the girls to take off their clothes, while others shouted, “Kiss each other!”

Courtney turned and wrapped her arms around Kristen. They kissed, softly at first, then with ever greater abandon, sucking each other’s tongues sloppily. Their legs were entwined, their hips moving to the beat, pussies rubbing on bare thighs.

Clapton sang:

“Have you ever loved a woman,

So much you tremble in pain?

Yes, have you ever loved a woman,

So much you tremble in pain?”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Kristen said in her friend’s ear.

“I know,” said Courtney. “But I want you so bad right now.”

She began to unbutton Kristen’s white blouse. When it was loose, she turned Kristen’s back to the crowd and began to peel the shirt slowly from her friend’s shoulders. Then she stopped and looked out at the crowd of women, as if to ask for their approval.

The women cheered as Courtney lowered the shirt down Kristen’s back. The cuffs of the blouse were still around Kristen’s wrists when Courtney turned her to face the crowd. Kristen was embarrassed by the small, undeveloped breasts high on her girlish chest, but the women seemed to love them. Her pale pink aureoles were even puffier than usual from all the excitement.

With Kristen’s hands still tangled up in the sleeves, Courtney reached around her friend’s body and squeezed both her fat nipples while kissing her neck. The crowd loved it.

When Kristen finally worked her hands free, she returned the favor and unbuttoned Courtney’s blouse. She knew the audience would go nuts when they saw those tits, so she kept her friend’s back to the crowd to ratchet up the suspense. She removed Courtney’s shirt entirely, then lifted the hem of her skirt to display her friend’s luscious round ass. It looked incredibly sexy with only a thin strip of lace thong wedged in her crack.

Several women reached out to stroke the girls’ legs, but Brooke pushed them back.

Courtney looked over her shoulder in mock fright, a finger in her mouth. The shouts and chanting grew until, with perfect dramatic timing, Kristen held her friend by the shoulders and turned her toward the horde of women.

Just as she had expected, they went berserk. And who could blame them? At age thirteen, Courtney already wore a C-cup, and her perfectly shaped breasts jutted out as if scornful of gravitational laws.

“Lick them! Suck them!” shouted the onlookers.

Kristen bent to do just that, first licking the hard nipples. Then she fell to her knees to lick the underside of those sweet tits, her head tilted back. Courtney turned sideways to the crowd to give everyone a good view as she held a fistful of blonde hair while her slender friend lavished attention on her aching nipples.

Courtney knelt to face Kristen and unbuttoned her friend’s skirt before pushing her gently onto her back. The slender teen’s long blonde hair spread out like a cloud around her head and spilled over the edge of the bar. Courtney pulled the skirt completely off and spread Kristen’s legs. With a naughty wink at the crowd, Courtney licked the crotch of her friend’s lacy thong panties.

“Very sexy, girls,” Brooke said. “Kristen, I bet you’d like Courtney to eat your pussy right about now?”

Kristen was too shy to answer, but she looked up at Brooke with need written all over her face.

“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes,’ ” said Brooke, “someone’s going to eat your pussy all right, but it won’t be Courtney.”

The two teenagers looked at her in confusion.

“Here’s how it’s going to work, ladies,” Brooke said, addressing the room. “If you’d like to eat some thirteen-year-old virgin pussy, you need to make a donation towards the new locker room. Let’s say twenty dollars. You’ll each get three minutes. If you can make one of these fuck toys come during your three minutes, you’ll get your twenty dollars back. Understood?”

“Yeah!” roared the crowd.

“The only other rule is: no insertions,” Brooke said. “No fingers or anything else inside their cunts. They’re both, ah, intact, and they’re going to stay intact… for now.”

So the two lovely thirteen-year-olds were laid out on the bar top, slim blonde Kristen in only her lacy thong panties and white knee socks, and precociously buxom Courtney still wearing her little pleated skirt.

The women queued up to have a taste of sweet virgin snatch, and Joanne was first in line to sample Courtney’s charms.

“You’re so beautiful,” said the older woman to the dark-haired child, as she raised her skirt and kissed her inner thighs.

“Please,” Courtney said, “don’t make me wait.”

Joanne didn’t even bother to remove the girl’s panties. She just pulled them to one side, inhaled deeply, and began exploring the wonders of Courtney’s yummy girl parts.

Her friends were egging her on, but Joanne barely heard them. She was making the most of her three minutes.

“It’s so delicious,” she said during a brief pause for air, then dove back in, sucking Courtney’s prominent curled labia minora into her mouth. The little girl sighed with pleasure.

Kristen was being licked expertly by a woman in her early forties, but she was too self conscious to enjoy it… at first.

The woman had gasped when she removed Kristen’s panties and saw her rosy, almost hairless young cunt. The outer lips were puffy and full, the inner lips completely hidden, and the fine blonde hairs adorning her mound did nothing to hide her delicate slit.

Soon, the knowing mouth on her pussy began to have an effect, and Kristen’s inhibitions faded.

The little blonde girl and the older woman fell into a rhythm; Kristen raising her hips each time the tongue drove between her labia and met her clit. She began to moan.

“Time!” said Brooke, and the two women reluctantly left off their feasting. Two more eagerly took their places.

Again, time was called just as Kristen and her partner were finding their rhythm. The slim blonde had forgotten the crowd as her need began to grow.

Twice more the women eating her brought her to the edge of climax just as time elapsed, and her frustration became intense.

The next woman was overweight, about fifty, with short dark hair. “You can’t imagine how long I’ve been dreaming about this,” the woman said, and Kristen realized it was her fourth grade teacher.

“Miss Jenkins!” she said, and squeezed her legs together, mortified.

“Oh, no you don’t,” said Miss Jenkins, and pried Kristen’s legs apart. “I’ve thought you were beautiful since you were nine years old, and I never believed I’d have this chance. I’m going to make you feel soooo good.”

Unlike the women before her, she didn’t start licking right away. She feasted her eyes on Kristen’s slender young body, and kissed her immature breast buds. “So pretty,” said the frustrated lesbian schoolteacher, as she kissed her way down the flat belly. The little blonde’s sex was a wet glistening invitation.

“Your skin is so soft,” said Miss Jenkins, rubbing her face on Kristen’s inner thigh as she stroked the girl’s sex with her fingertips.

With her smoldering eyes locked on Kristen’s, the stout fourth grade teacher finally, tenderly, lowered her mouth to the young blonde’s pussy. Something about the intensity of those eyes made Kristen’s heart skip a beat and her fuckhole flooded with juice.

“Oh my gosh,” said the teenager.

The schoolteacher’s tongue seemed to be everywhere at once, scooping up girl cream and slathering Kristen’s tiny pink clit. The older woman was devouring the little girl’s cunt like it was her last meal, burying her face in sweet young pussy as Kirsten grabbed her teacher’s head with both hands, her narrow hips thrusting up from the sticky bar.

“Oh yes,” cried the blonde teen in her reedy little girl voice. “That’s it! Just like that! Oh, my God, don’t stop! Ooooooooooooohhh!” she wailed, her thin trembling legs wrapped around her former teacher’s head.

Meanwhile, Courtney was being eaten by her first black woman, a conservatively dressed business executive with graying hair. Courtney reached out and found her best friend’s hand, and held it as Kristen reached a second searing orgasm.

Hearing her friend’s girlish cries of rapture finally pushed Courtney over the edge. Kristen felt her friend’s grip tighten as Courtney succumbed to the mouth on her dripping sex, her nubile body shuddering.

Seeing… and hearing… the two beautiful thirteen-year-olds orgasm together was easily the most erotic thing most of the women there had ever witnessed, and many quietly slid hands inside their clothes to touch themselves. Brooke handed each of the women a twenty-dollar bill.

“Here’s your money back, ladies,” she said. “You’ve earned it.”

“No, you keep it for the locker room fund,” said Miss Jenkins. “It was worth a lot more to me than twenty dollars.” And she handed Brooke another twenty to queue up for a second turn.

It seemed that the girls’ orgasms had opened the floodgates.

Kristen began to come almost continuously. Each time she thought it couldn’t get any more intense, the next orgasm lifted her higher and higher until the world around her ceased to exist. Time stood still. Her innocent young face contorted with ecstasy, Kristen no longer cared that her wanton behavior was on display. The little blonde girl’s cries reached a fever pitch.

The crowd surged in around the two young girls, pushing each ‘donor’ out of the way as soon as her turn ended. Brooke could no longer hold back the queue, and Courtney and Kristen were surrounded by women. They all wanted to touch the two young beauties, who quickly became lost in an overload of sensation. Hands were everywhere on their bodies, stroking their soft skin, squeezing their smooth legs and their lovely ripening breasts.

Brooke’s pockets were stuffed with twenties, and the bar was scattered with assorted greenbacks. She quit bothering to time the women.

Courtney had two women eating her cunt at once. One was tongue-fucking her hole while the other sucked her clit. Her squeals of pleasure reached the bouncer at the door.

The burly, tattooed bouncer had been thinking all evening about the two underage cuties with the FUCK TOY collars around their necks. She resented Brooke for her wealth and good looks, and it drove her to distraction that Brooke might have already had her way with the two pretty teens. She herself could only dream of sexing up young girls like that, and if there was a chance of doing so now she didn’t want to miss it.

She went inside and locked the door.

Continue on to Chapter 7

Spa Day, Part One

  • Posted on April 17, 2018 at 8:32 am

By: Sunnybunny

Rosalind Martinez stared down at the clipboard in her hands, trying to focus very hard on the words typed out before her but for the life of her could not read them. They were just a jumble of letters and blanks in her mind, coming together into familiar patterns but never in anything she could comprehend. She glanced around the waiting room, at her boss, the enigmatic Veronica Winters seated beside her, to the receptionist’s white cap barely visible behind the desk, to the pristine tiles laid out before her in a checkerboard pattern. Nothing seemed to help and she let out an exasperated sigh. Rosalind had been leaning forward with her elbows balanced over her knees and sat back heavily in the chair, making the legs squeak.

Veronica Winters arched a pencil-thin eyebrow over the top of her sunglasses at the display. Her expression was otherwise unreadable but Rosalind had been working as her assistant for long enough to know when the businesswoman was annoyed. Instinct had nearly taken over, something that would have forced Rosalind to her feet with a hasty offer to fetch Ms. Winters a latte or maybe some medicine to quell a growing headache.

Ms. Winters must have taken her look of flustered embarrassment for some sort of explanation for her assistant’s action and returned her attention to the magazine spread out on her crossed legs. She was a vision, her boss. A classic beauty, forty-but-didn’t-know-it, with dark hair and eyes. Her features were sharply defined, severe and striking. It was little surprise she had modeled in her youth before taking over her family’s media empire and began appearing on the magazine covers of a different sort. From Sports Illustrated and Maxim to Forbes and the New Yorker in less than a decade. Today she was dressed in an impeccable white pantsuit and open-toe shoes that matched. Her hair was wound up into a tight bun behind her head, affording a no-nonsense air typically reserved for board meetings and cold coffee.

Veronica had long since perused her menu options and checked a series of boxes with barely a glance. To her, it was selecting which wine to sample after dinner. The receptionist lingered while Rosalind gaped at the page, making attempts at friendly small talk before Veronica dismissed her.

“This is her first time here,” she intoned, like a patient talking to the vet about a nervous cocker spaniel. “You’ll have to give her a moment.”

Rosalind tried to study the menu again, unable to keep from blushing as some of the words came into sharp focus. She read them to herself without meaning to. By the time she was done with the options, her cheeks were the color of stop signs. Rosalind was leaning forward again, elbows on knees, pouring over the list as if they were advanced physics formulas. She looked to her boss again, silently pleading for some explanation to what this place was, what they were doing there.

Veronica ignored her, instead touching her index finger to her tongue and casually flipping the page of the magazine. The centerfold spilled out before her, lying on her side against the backdrop of bedding and overstuffed pillows. Of course, she was naked, the girl in the image, but that wasn’t what gave Rosalind a start.

The title of the magazine was lost to her, entirely foreign born and imported from some remote part of eastern Europe. Each page bore an image with terse bits of text flanking them. Perhaps they were interview questions or stories or exposés or hell, soup recipes for all she knew, but those clearly were not the main attraction. The models were all young girls, wearing only smiles and sunshine. At a glance, Rosalind assumed it was a national geographic type of rag, showing the lives of some bush tribe in the remote jungle, only realizing it was something . . . more when a few pages in, she noticed a pair of them lying beside one another in a wide bed with their hands between their legs, spreading their small sexes apart for the camera and all the world to see. Their naughty grins were all the tell Rosalind needed.

“Ms. Winters?” it was the receptionist again, coming from around her desk with a warm smile. She paused before them with both hands clutched in front of her smock, bowing her head slightly in apology. “Forgive the brief wait but we are ready for you now.”

Veronica did not reply. She closed the magazine and returned it to the stack on the table and slung her purse over her shoulder. She stood and glanced down at Rosalind. For a second, her assistant wondered if she had been forgotten entirely. “Enjoy yourself,” she instructed, not unkindly. She did not smile. Veronica Winters rarely smiled. “But be back here in three hours.” She turned her attention to the receptionist who made a beckoning motion with her hands toward a series of tall, double doors.

“This way, Ms. Winters. They are expecting you.”

Veronica gave a small nod, pausing long enough for the woman to open the door for her and usher her inside. “I know my way around, thank you, Vivian. Please make sure my assistant is well taken care of, won’t you? Maybe send down for Lillian if she is not too busy?”

A sly smile spread out across the receptionist’s face and perhaps Rosalind imagined it, but it looked as if a ghost of one crossed her employer’s too. Something passed between the two ladies, some secret communication that, like so much of this place, she could not possibly fathom. “Don’t worry, Ms. Winters, we’ll take very good care of her.”

Veronica Winters strode out of the room without another word. The door swinging shut behind her closed with an air of finality. There would be no turning back now.

The receptionist crossed the room back to her desk, smiling in that same knowing way at Rosalind. Were the woman’s hips carrying a bit of swagger now, or was she imagining things? That little expression conjured up so many questions, each wrestling at her tongue to get out first.

“Who is Lillian?” Rosalind heard herself ask. The reply she got was of the receptionists smile blossoming into a show of teeth and sweet chuckles. She waited for a long moment before it dawned that she would not be getting an answer.

The woman retreated to her seat and lifted the receiver to her ear, cradling a hand over the mouthpiece of the phone for added privacy.

Rosalind sighed again and set the paper aside. She flexed her trembling fingers over her bare knees, wishing she had gone with the slacks today or at least a longer skirt. Seated, the hem rode up high on her thighs, a constant reminder to keep her legs crossed or risk flashing the room. Feeling more self-conscious by the moment, Rosalind produced her cell from her bag and turned on the front-facing camera to check her makeup and hair. the humidity outdoors had taken its toll on her thick, dark curls but the rest had survived. A little touchup wouldn’t go amiss and she longed for a bathroom mirror but was too timid to ask the receptionist for directions to the nearest one.

She made do with her phone.

Two years as Veronica Winters personal assistant and Rosalind was still unaccustomed to such formal attire. A tee shirt and jeans kind of girl through and through, her parents had to practically plead and beg and threaten to get her into that gown for her Quinceañera before shameless bribery won out.

Blazers and trousers, heels and pantsuits ruled her days and illicit affairs with sweats and Homer Simpson theme tank-tops occupied her evenings at home.

“Excuse me?”

Rosalind looked up, slightly annoyed though admittedly more from recalling how hideous she had looked during her fifteenth birthday than being interrupted. She lowered her phone and put it away, offering a smile in apology.

“Yes, can I help you?”

The young girl now standing before her put the back of her hand to her lips, hiding her smile. “I think that’s my line. I’m Lillian. I’ll be attending to you today.”

Rosalind stared at the girl for a beat, at a loss for words before she took broke out into a smile. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t-you mean to tell me…” She was laughing now and rocking back in her chair. “This has to be some joke, right? Like, some practical joke TV show.”

Lillian half turned to the receptionist seated behind her. The woman behind the desk was leaning over the divide, brow knit with worry until Lillian waved her off.

“I guess they weren’t lying when they said this was your first time here,” Lillian sounded amused and took up the menu page beside Rosalind. She had a northern accent when she spoke, leaning heavily on the ‘A’ in her speech. She wore the same white smock as the receptionist, though in a much smaller size. Her coltish legs were covered by white nylon stockings that disappeared into matching clogs. Her hair was a vibrant chestnut red, the kind that reminded Rosalind of summer sunsets in autumn. It was combed straight and wound up into a loose chignon. Her bright green eyes surveyed the list and Rosalind was momentarily embarrassed for someone so young being exposed to such inappropriate language.

“No-no!” Rosalind made a grab for the page and gently pried it out of the child’s fingers. “That is most definitely not for you, sweetie.”

Lillian laughed, having no such qualms to hide it now. “Of course not, it’s for you! Here.” She took the newly vacated seat beside Rosalind and fished the pen up from the attached chain. “I’ll help you fill it out, it’s super easy.”

Rosalind searched for help, finding only the receptionist and she was busily scratching at paperwork, the phone cradled to her ear, oblivious to what was transpiring right in front of her.

“We’ll start at the top,” Lillian explained, tapping the pen to the first box. “This section is all about me anyway.”

“You?” Rosalind echoed.

Lillian patiently nodded without looking up from the list. “Well, your attendant for your visit. I think Veronica-err, Ms. Winters had me come up because I’m really good with the newbies.” She looked over and smiled, hoping she had not offended the woman. Rosalind was still too confused to think of anger at all and stared back at the girl, her face a blank. “Is my age okay?” She tapped the pen against the PREFERRED AGE bracket with a little dash to write in her reply.

“Your age?” Rosalind was beginning to feel like a parrot. “How old are you, sweetie?”

Lillian replied, “I’m eleven. But if you prefer someone younger, I won’t take offense. We want your visit to be an enjoyable–no, a pleasurable experience.” Something about the way the girl said ‘pleasurable’ made Rosalind think she ought to be blushing. “We have girls as young as five on call if you wish.” She added, “Or as old as fifteen, if that is your preference.”

“Girls that young work here?” Rosalind frowned. “Doing what?”

Lillian smiled again, her lips parting around teeth that were crooked but being wrestled back into place by technicolor braces. It was an adorable smile, slightly pitying but quite sincere. Her lips were puffy pink pillows, a little too large for her mouth, but she would grow into them one day. They looked incredibly soft. “A bit of this, a bit of that.”

Rosalind shifted in her padded seat, wondering where this was all leading. All answers pointed to one thing, and it was making her stomach churn with anxiety.

“You can show me around.”

Lillian nodded her head and scratched out her name and age in the appropriate areas. “Next,” she started. “Is what I’m wearing okay?”

Rosalind stared at the smock, crisp and white and leaned over to study the list with the girl. “Well, what are my opt-!” She jumped back as if struck, both hands covering her reddening cheeks.

Lillian read the options matter-of-factly, as if running down a grocery check list or homework assignment. It reminded Rosalind of the way Veronica had casually gone through and marked the page without much afterthought. “We have a variety of costume choices. I can be dressed as a princess or a fairy,” she explained. “Or a cowgirl or swim champion. We have pajama options and stuffed animals if you’d like to do a sleepover. Or I could just attend to you naked.”

“Naked?!”

The receptionist looked up, her carefully sculpted brow bent down into a frown but clearly at Rosalind’s outburst and not the offer for an eleven-year-old girl to disrobe in the lobby.

“What do you mean ‘naked’?!” Rosalind stage-whispered, leaning across the arm of the chair. She spied the shiny teeth of a discrete zipper running along the side of Lillian’s smock. It kept the rather sexless garment a little tighter around her slender frame and could easily slip off her shoulders or over the girl’s head undone.

Lillian, with all the patience of a saint, nodded. “Remember when I said this experience is all about you? We do our best to tailor the visit to your every desire.” She smiled apologetically. “Well, within reason.”

Rosalind’s head was caught in a whirlwind of information, trying to process it all at once and failing. She had handled surly clients, drunk businessmen playing grab-ass, 2 AM emergency calls from Ms. Winters to ‘skip downtown and fetch me a s’more frappé. Nothing on earth could have prepared her for a spa day with her boss.

She massaged the sides of her head, bemoaning why this could not have been another weekend in Tuscany. Tuscany had been fun. Montreal was even better. Rosalind was so accustomed to lavish business excursions that when her boss announced her plans to visit something as mundane as a day spa in upstate New York, just a few hours outside Manhattan, she was disappointed. Now, she would give anything for mud baths and facials and yoga classes.

“Can you please explain to me what this place is?” She gently took the list from Lillian and set it aside. She didn’t think her heart could take another lewd category. “What you’re wearing is fine. Maybe we could…take a walk?”

Lillian looked sympathetic and patted her hand gently, a rare moment of the child comforting the adult, and rose from her seat. “Of course. Would you like a tour of the grounds? I think you’ll come around once you’ve seen more of the place.”

Rosalind seriously doubted this but allowed herself to be lifted out of the chair. They exited into the main artery and into the building proper. The walls were still the same hospital white as the waiting room but the checkered tile floor ended and carpeting began. It was so thick and soft that Rosalind felt her heels sink an inch into the ground.

“Does…Ms. Winters come here often?” Rosalind asked. “Everyone seemed to know her.”

“Oh yes, Ms. Winters is one of our very best customers. Always so generous and sweet.”

Rosalind had to stop dead at that description and nearly toppled backwards with her shoes sunk in so deeply into the carpet. Her boss? Sweet? Generous? “You sure we’re talking about the same Veronica Winters?” The question came out so suddenly, Rosalind had no chance of stopping it and gaped at Lillian in horror. “You didn’t hear that. I didn’t say that. Please don’t tell Ms. Winters I said anything!”

Lillian was howling though and waved her away, good-naturedly. “Your secret is safe with me, but it’s true. Ms. Winters is one of our regulars here. I have personally attended to her, and I know firsthand what sort of person she is.”

Lillian made a sweeping motion with her arm, laying out the empty path before them. The windows along the corridor were thrown open and a gentle breeze was rustling the curtains. They danced seductively as the duo passed.

“I guess I’ve only seen one side of her,” Rosalind shrugged. “The cutthroat businesswoman, the media mogul. It never really crossed my mind what she would be like away from the office.” A regular, she wondered to herself. Her employer frequented this establishment so often that she was friendly with the staff, knew some by name. When did she have time to sneak up here? Rosalind dizzily recalled a few last-minute cancellations and terse phone calls, informing her that Ms. Winters was taken ill but would return to work on Monday morning. Had she come here? Is that what that could have really meant?

“Let’s not talk about your boss,” Lillian suggested, giving her arm a pat. “Or work. This is supposed to be fun, remember?”

“If it’s supposed to be fun, then why am I so nauseous?” She was only half-kidding but the girl laughed all the same.

“You’re just nervous,” she teased. “Here, we’re about to enter the spa here and you can decide what we see next.” The room opened and the sterile, hospital environment gave away to rustic chic. The floors were all hardwood but smooth, just a raised step away from the rather chilly exterior. A ceiling fan cut lazy circles in the air overhead. A wooden coffee table was nestled between a group of overstuffed chairs and sofas, looking like something right out of a Wyoming travel brochure. Just as in the corridor, every window was standing open for the curtains to dance their ballet for a vacant audience.

“This place is lovely,” Rosalind admitted.

“Thank you,” Lillian replied with genuine pride. Her narrow chest even swelled. “This is the real Tranquil Garden Spa.” She pirouetted into the middle of the room, long limbs outstretched like a ballerina. The hem of her smock rose up around her thighs, revealing the tops of her white stockings and just a hint of milk-white flesh. “Ta-da!”

Rosalind chuckled at the display, charmed by the girl despite it all. “So, this is what everyone drives five hours for? Into the land WIFI forgot?”

Lillian let her arms drop. “Well,” she said, drawing the word out into a long sigh. “Not really.”

Rosalind thought they may have a seat there. After all, it was so cozy, but the girl led her through the room and down another short corridor that gave way to a room the size of an opera house. Inside was an Olympic-size pool with a three-tier diving board at one end. They were greeted by the merry laughter of children and splashing of small bodies cannon-balling into the azure waves.

“This is our pool area,” Lillian explained redundantly. “One of the more popular areas for first timers. Do you swim?”

Rosalind was too busy gaping up at the vaulted ceiling to reply right off. It was like being in a cathedral, and gazing up, she half expected to find Michelangelo’s masterwork adorning the dome. Natural light poured in from all sides through mammoth windows. “No, I’m afraid I never learned how.”

Lillian waved it off. “We offer swimming lessons every Wednesday morning and Friday afternoon. It covers CPR and other lifesaving techniques. You’re more than welcome to attend! I’m sure Ms. Winters could do without you for a day or two if you’re bettering yourself.”

Rosalind opened her mouth to flatly deny that. Her boss was not widely known for being sympathetic when it came to unscheduled time off or emergencies. She closed it again before risking another faux pas. “Maybe you can ask her for me?” It was meant as another joke, but she had the suspicion Lillian would do just that unless stopped. She was about to explain her jest when Rosalind was interrupted.

A pair of youths rushed past them, giggling like loons, nearly knocking Rosalind and her tour guide into the water. They were followed quickly by an older woman, who was laughing just as hard but had the tact to pause and apologize to them for the horseplay before rushing after the girls.

All three of them were stark naked.

Lillian waved the woman on, “Better hurry, they’re getting away!”

Rosalind stared after them, dumbfounded. Her mind raced for a rational explanation. Their mother, she tried. That must be their mother and they were in the locker room, waiting on showers. The kids took it all as a game and decided to run off–hide and seek.

The woman, presumed to be their mother, scooped them both up into her arms and tumbled all three sideways into the water. A geyser of water erupted in their wake. Lillian laughed at that, completely oblivious to the casual nudity on display.

Rosalind turned to her, stammering.

“That was Patricia Wilson,” Lillian answered automatically. “Still pretty new to the spa.”

“And those girls were…?”

The trio surfaced, sputtering water through fits of merry laughter.

“Ernestine and Mae. They work here too.”

Rosalind would have fallen in with the girls if Lillian hadn’t reached out to steady her. “Whoa! Easy there!”

“This place is more than just a day spa, isn’t it?” Rosalind’s tone was ominous.

“Of course, it is.” Lillian smiled. “Caught on, have you?”

Rosalind’s mind flashed back to evening news and dingy Taiwanese brothels being broken up in shaky-cam raids. Dateline with Chris Hanson and his suspiciously benign plate of cookies. She recalled wondering why those ‘To Catch a Predator’ programs never featured women.

Now she knew.

Instead of fishing in online chatrooms, they simply came here.

“I shouldn’t be here!” Rosalind spun on the spot, searching for the exit and nearly tumbled into the drink again. Lillian led her to the row of deck chairs and eased her down.

“Everyone reacts differently,” Lillian educated. Genuine concern etched her face as she examined Rosalind from inches away. “You look pale.”

Rosalind was trembling all over, anxiety and horror wrestling for control of her body. The room, so comfortable moments ago, was suddenly stifling. “I-I-I think I should leave!”

Lillian smiled sympathetically and gave her hand a gentle pat. “It’s okay, Rosalind. Just breathe. Ms. Winters wouldn’t have brought you here if she wasn’t sure you’d enjoy the experience.”

Rosalind was stunned by the revelation. Ms. Winters thought she would enjoy such a place? She stole another look at the trio of girls, climbing out of the pool by way of the ladder fixed into the pool’s edge.

Looking now, there was no way they could be related. The woman could only have been twenty-one at the oldest. The two girls escorting her were both blonde haired, cut short in a pixie style. Their noses were narrow at the bridge, with freckles marking their shoulders and chests and cheeks. Patricia was dark haired with a slightly darker complexion. Her smooth skin devoid of any such blemishes.

“How does this place even exist?” Rosalind wondered.

Lillian readily explained, “This place is pretty far removed from the world and our clientele are powerful women from all over the world. If the place were to be found out, they couldn’t come here anymore.” She chuckled at the logic. “Win-win, huh?”

Rosalind shook her head, still processing. “So, Patricia is someone of power? Importance?”

“Her fiancé is,” she clarified. “I think he’s in energy, or at least his family is.”

Rosalind squinted down the line, at the gaggle of women and girls occupying the other end of the pool. Thankfully, they were all wearing bathing suits. “And them? Wait, is that Ivanka Trump?!”

Lillian followed her line of sight, spied the group of bathers and shook her head. “No, Ivanka isn’t one of our guests but we do cater to plenty of celebrities. Politicians, too. Thrill seeking business-types.” Lillian removed one of Rosalind’s curls that had become plastered to her face from perspiration. “I take it swimming is out for now?”

That was certainly an understatement. “Yea, safe to say.”

Lillian offered her a hand up and she took it. The girl led her to another set of doors. She could not help but glance back at Patricia Wilson, married to a wealthy oilman but sneaking off to play in the Garden of Eden. Their wet bodies shimmered in the sunshine. Patricia was dyed pink from the cold water. Her full breasts swayed gently while she laughed and Rosalind could not help but notice how hard the woman’s nipples were, even from such a distance. One of the girls, Mae or Ernestine, was huddled against her thigh, hands trailing dangerously high up the inside. The doors closed behind them just in the nick of time, and Rosalind saw no more.

“The steam bath is up ahead,” Lillian directed with a hand, pointing at various doors. “The changing rooms and showers, there. Our mud pit is behind this door. We have massage tables just there with expertly trained technicians. Would you care to see?”

Rosalind had a hand over her heart, hoping to quell the hammering behind her rib cage. “I-I’m-sorry, what?” she was looking back the way they had come, could almost see what was happening through the closed door like she had x-ray vision, stunned to find herself longing to know. When she looked around again, Lillian was watching her with a knowing smile and beckoned her forward with a curl of her index finger.

“It’s not what you think,” Rosalind challenged, lacking confidence in her own words. “I’m having a rough time believing a place like this even exists!”

“Well, you’re looking at living proof, baby!” Lillian tossed her hands out wide, spirit fingers wiggling. “This is our Eastern location but there are others all over the country. All over the world.”

Rosalind went wide-eyed. “You can’t be serious!”

They were paused in the middle of the entranceway, doors all around them, branching paths in this Wonderland she had tumbled down into. “Our location caters to women exclusively,” Lillian went on. “Notice any men poking about? There are some that are co-ed, though. A location in Georgia is for men only, staffed by young boys. How about a nice rub down?”

The question came so suddenly after the explanation, Rosalind’s mind came to screeching halt. “A what?”

Lillian rolled her eyes good-naturedly and pressed her palm to one of the doors. It swung open easily. “A massage, Rosalind, a massage.”

A waking sleepwalker now, Rosalind followed her inside. This room was done in a faux-Asian motif. Soft music drifted through the air, slowing down the pace of the room but did little to ease her anxiety. They trod over tatami mats to a duo of tables. Towels were laid out for them, freshly laundered and warm to the touch. They smelled of lavender, Rosalind’s favorite. One end had a hollow for her face to rest in while she was massaged.

“Shall I find someone for you?” Lillian offered. “We have some of the best masseuses in the country right here.”

Rosalind did not answer right away. She bought time by pacing around the room and taking in the décor. It should have looked kitschy in a place like this but the added touches of authentic art and plants and warm color of the walls sold it to her. She had to admit, a massage would go a long way in calming her jitters. That and a glassful of wine and she just may be able to survive to see another day.

She turned but Lillian had already gone out to get the masseuse, the little mind-reader.

How long had it been since she had received a good massage? Tuscany, she remembered, dreamily. Ages ago now, and it had been so relaxing, she drifted off to sleep. She pressed her face into the towels, inhaling their delicious aroma. Her heart slowed down ever so slightly. It was something familiar, tangible that could be grasped onto, an anchor that would allow her to get her bearings. Who knew? With this, maybe she could regain some of her lost composure and make it through the rest of the visit unscathed.

Decidedly, she slipped her shoes off and began to undress. Wrapped in a wreath of terrycloth, she neatly folded up her skirt and blouse and laid them on a nearby table. Careful to keep the towel around her middle in case someone walked in without knocking, she settled onto her tummy, hands folded beneath her chin.

The wait wasn’t a long one but it gave her time to reflect on her boss, the enigmatic Veronica Winters, harboring such a lewd weakness. Some people went golfing after a long week at the office. Others went out for drinks with friends. Veronica Winters, the most powerful businesswoman on the eastern seaboard, visited brothels staffed by children.

Rosalind pressed her forehead down into her knuckles, red-faced and sweating again. Did this make her an accomplice? Could she be implicated in any way from visiting here? Suddenly lying around naked save for a towel did not feel like such a smart idea. Lillian’s words echoed in her head, the rich and powerful visiting such a place. What went unsaid, however, was what would happen to them all if the spa was ever discovered? Entire industries would collapse overnight. Careers and marriages would be ruined. No, there would be no discovering this place and the realization gave her a sickening calm.

Continue on to Part Two

 

Play Date

  • Posted on April 15, 2018 at 10:00 am

Author Unknown

Note from JetBoy: This initiates a new series of stories to appear at Juicy Secrets: items from my rather largish library of lesbian fiction that come from… well, I know not where. I compiled thousands of stories before realizing the wisdom of noting A) the author’s name, and B) the website from whence it came. Foolish, I know. Many of these are works that I tweaked somewhat — fixing errors, editing out unwanted male sex partners, or expanding the text — which usually meant adding more sex.

Some of these are simply too good to keep hidden away… so the idea will be to post the story, while encouraging anyone who knows the original (or even better, happened to write the original in the first place) to contact us. In most cases, if the author is willing, we’ll be happy to post the authentic story — and in all cases, we will immediately take ours down if the author so desires. 

Thanks, and enjoy! 

*****

Sarah had such an incredibly sexy ass that I couldn’t keep myself from stealing glances at it. She wore a thin, lavender muslin skirt and a halter top. Sunlight spilled through the window where she stood, making her long brown hair seem nearly golden. The shape of her body was obvious through her clothes.

I leaned back into the couch, sipping Chardonnay and trying to stay calm. I wanted to play this cool, to figure out how she felt about love between women before I tried anything, but she kept her house chilly, and I could feel my nipples getting hard beneath my dress. I supposed there was no way I could hide that. I just sort of grinned. If I was very lucky, it would turn her on.

She turned back to me and smiled. “Well, the girls seem to be getting along fine,” she said.

I was here on the pretext of a play date for our daughters, who were now in the backyard. They had ballet class together, where I had met Sarah. She was the most attractive of the other mothers, single, and about my age. I had heard through the grapevine that she’d had a bad breakup with the father, and wasn’t dating right now. Perhaps she had given up on men. I could only hope…

She came back, sat down opposite me, and poured herself some more wine.

“You have a lovely house,” I said.

“Thanks.”

She took a sip and leaned back, gazing at me. She seemed very comfortable. I wasn’t. I felt my cheeks start to redden from her attention.

Sarah just kept scrutinizing me. She had the loveliest soft brown eyes, too.

I had never been the aggressive sort, preferring to play things out slowly with a potential lover. To be honest, I had always been a bit awkward at this. Plus, I reminded myself, our daughters are just outside. So I sat there, excited but flustered. It took all of my willpower to refrain from touching myself.

All that being said, I suspected that it was obvious how I felt about Sarah.

Summoning my courage, I smiled at her, looking into her eyes. Then I let my gaze drift down, over her chest. Her breasts were nice and shapely. She wore no bra, and her halter left plenty exposed. She had a nice flat tummy, with a bit of definition to her abs. Her legs were lean and athletic, and lightly tanned. She had kicked off her shoes earlier, when we arrived. Her feet seemed delicate, compared to the rest of her. They were nestled in the plush white carpet.

She parted her legs a bit and gave me a knowing smile. I tried to calm myself down. I hadn’t any intention of doing anything with Sarah today, not with my little girl there. I just wanted to get to know her, to find out if she was interested.

It was pretty clear that she was.

The girls came in laughing and holding hands. Kelsey, my daughter, was ten. She was wearing a little blue jumper dress and had her black hair up in curls. I thought she looked perfectly adorable, even if her knees and elbows were dirty from playing outside.

Ashley, Sarah’s daughter, was eleven. She was wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She had her mother’s brown hair, tied up in a ponytail, and a cute elfin face. She stood a few inches taller than Kelsey, and was dragging her along into the house. Both girls were glistening in the shaft of sunlight that spilled through the open door.

“Mom,” Ashley blurted out, “We’re thirsty. Can we get some lemonade?”

I straightened up and tried to seem relaxed, not wanting the girls to see me in such an obvious state of arousal. Sarah seemed to have no such qualms, though. She sat just as she was, legs parted, a hungry look in her eyes.

“Sure,” she responded.

The girls went to skip past us toward the kitchen when Sarah stopped them.

“Sweetie…” she said, “You’re forgetting the kiss tax.”

Ashley giggled. “Sorry, Mom.”

“In our house, we have a kiss tax,” she said to me. Every time you go into the kitchen for a drink or snacks while someone is sitting here in the living room, you have to pay a forfeit of one kiss.”

Ashley went up to her mother, leaned in and and hugged her. Then she looked over at me a bit warily, as if deciding something. She planted a cute little kiss on Sarah’s cheek.

“And Kelsey, I know you’re a guest here, but you have to pay the kiss tax too.”

She beckoned Kelsey to come to her. It was all a bit weird, but I did nothing to stop it. Kelsey had always been an affectionate girl, and loved to give and receive hugs. It was just a bit disturbing to see my little girl embrace a woman I was longing to fuck.

Sarah took Kelsey up into her arms, giving her a big hug. “You’re such a pretty little girl,” she said, “Simply delightful.”

Kelsey had a great big smile on her face as she hugged Sarah back. They kissed each other on the cheek.

“Mmmmm,” Sarah cooed. She gave Kelsey a little pat on her bottom, then looked over at me and gave me a big smile. I opened my mouth to speak, but said nothing.

As for Sarah’s daughter Ashley, she just stood there, studying me.

“All right, girls,” Sarah then said, “you have to pay Audrey the kiss tax, too.”

The girls approached me. Kelsey was closer, and got there first. She crawled into my lap and embraced me. I felt my heart race with a sudden excitement — perhaps because I’d been thinking about sex all afternoon, and was so aroused that even hugging my little girl was enough to intensify the heat between my legs. I was on fire, my heart singing with adoration for my little girl as we kissed each other warmly on the cheek.

I caressed her softly, my sweet little daughter with her dark curls. Her slender body, covered by a soft cotton jumper, pressed against mine. Something lurid passed through my consciousness, a sudden impulse to kiss her on the mouth. I closed my eyes and silently counted to ten. My body hungered for love like it never had before and I was quaking with the need for release, but I couldn’t let Kelsey see that.

Then Kelsey drew away, and Ashley lightly touched my arm, as if she was waiting for permission to kiss me. She had her mother’s soft brown eyes, and I could feel myself falling into them.

I took the sweet nymph into my arms and hugged her. How could I not?

She embraced me warmly, tenderly. I felt my hard nipples brushing against her body through the dress I wore.

I let out an involuntary little sigh, my eyes drifting shut. It isn’t wrong to hug and kiss little girls, I reminded myself. That I’m turned on right now, holding Ashley… just a coincidence. It’s her mother I want. Only her.

I felt Ashley’s lips brush against my cheek, then again. Angel-soft little kisses. They were luscious. Then they strayed to my mouth!

It was a tiny kiss, then another — brief, barely even a touch. My eyes flickered open. She sat back looking at me, deciding. Then she kissed me again. I let her. My lips parted, just a bit.

I was kissing a little girl on the mouth. In front of her mother. In front of my daughter.

“Okay, you’re all paid up, honey,” Sarah said, just in time to keep me from bringing my tongue into play. “You girls go on and enjoy your lemonade.”

Ashley drew away from me. I glanced over at Kelsey, not knowing how she might have reacted to seeing me kiss her new friend that way. She seemed a little puzzled, but nothing more. Then Ashley seized her hand, leading Kelsey into the kitchen.

“M-my God,” I whispered, once they’d left the room.

Sarah smiled at me. “That was a bit much for you, huh?” she said.

“Look, I’m so sorry. I don’t ever act like that.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m very open with Ashley about love and sex. She obviously figured out that you like me, and was just playing with you.”

I gaped at her, my heart suddenly racing.

“You do like me, don’t you?” she asked.

“Oh God, yes,” I blurted out.

She smiled hugely. “I like you too. Very much, I think. Why don’t we send the girls up to Ashley’s room and we can go to mine. My daughter knows not to disturb me there. Will Kelsey be all right?”

I began to speak, hesitated. “She doesn’t know about my, um… liking women.”

Sarah gave me a thoughtful smile. “Perhaps it’s time she found out.”

This was not how I had planned things. Sarah got up and walked to the kitchen, and I stared at her legs and ass as she passed. Almost involuntarily, I reached up to lightly brush one of my nipples. It felt divine. There was a rising dampness between my legs.

I nodded to myself. Yes. It was time that Kelsey found out about me. Finally.

Taking a deep breath, I followed Sarah into the kitchen. The girls were fumbling with a big pitcher of lemonade, evidently pouring their second glasses.

When I entered, Sarah reached for my hand. “Girls,” she said, “Audrey and I want to be alone for awhile. Do you think you could both go upstairs to play, and not come out until we call?”

The girls looked at us. Ashley seemed to understand exactly what was going on. She smiled and said, “All right, Mom. Have fun.”

Kelsey looked confused, though, so I went to her.

“Sweetie,” I said, “Sarah and I are becoming more than just friends. Do you understand that?”

“Uh… I’m not sure.”

“I have a lot of warm feelings for her. Adult feelings. She and I want to be together alone, to… explore those feelings.”

“Like you both are girlfriends?” she asked.

“Sort of, sweetie, yes.”

“They’re just gonna get all lovey-dovey and kissy,” Ashley giggled. “C’mon, let’s go to my room and play.” She grabbed Kelsey by the hand and pulled her away, leading her out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. Kelsey looked back at me, still puzzled.

“She’ll be fine,” Sarah said, wrapping her arm around my waist. She leaned into me. I felt her breast press against my arm. My body responded.

The girls disappeared up the stairs. Then I heard them both giggle.

“See, they’re perfectly okay,” Sarah said. She kissed my cheek gently.

I stopped worrying about Kelsey, turned to my new friend and returned her kiss. Her tongue darted into my mouth, and I moaned in delight, melting into her embrace.

We kissed hungrily for a minute or so, then Sarah gently drew away. “Come with me,” she murmured.

I followed her up the stairs, my hand on her ass most of the way. We passed a door that said KEEP OUT in big magenta letters. I heard the girls chattering and laughing on the other side as we continued down the hall to the door at the end. Sarah led me inside, then shut the door firmly before shoving me against it. I gasped in a mixture of surprise and sexual heat.

She kissed me hotly, probing with her tongue. I fondled her ass, the thin fabric of her skirt and panties offering little resistance to my exploring fingers. I pressed between her legs, feeling the back of her skirt grow damp to the touch. She moaned, grinding her pelvis into mine. I allowed my fingers to drift upward, to where her asshole should be, and pressed between her cheeks.

“Oh fuck,” she muttered. I was touching her through two layers of fabric, but I could tell I was in the right place. “So you’re into that.”

“College left me with two worthwhile things,” I said. “Kelsey, and my taste for women’s asses.”

“Ooooh,” she moaned, gripping me tightly, her eyes wide as I fingered Sarah’s anus through her clothes.

“Do you like it?”

“Mmmmm, It feels fucking great. D-don’t stop.”

I smiled. I began to feel relaxed, in control. Everything had been so weird, awkward, and nervous so far, but now I had her ass, and she loved it.

I positioned her on the bed, up on all fours, then unfastened her skirt, dropping it to the floor. Her panties were a sheer lilac floral print, so pretty that they literally made my pussy tingle. I bent to give her a few gentle kisses through the fabric, then the panties came off, too.

Her ass was like a dream… like a juicy pink peach, full and fleshy, jiggling deliciously when I gave her a light smack.

Kneeling behind Sarah, I parted her cheeks with both hands. Her rosebud was tiny and smooth, her pussy was and delicate, with swollen labia. I leaned in and licked both with one stroke of the tongue. She moaned. I moaned. Her taste was heavenly.

I licked her anus again, trailing my tongue through the puckered cleft, then gave it a wet, sucking kiss. I felt her whole body tense up. “Oh fuck,” she moaned, “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.”

I pressed in my tongue, hard, and reached the fleshy inner parts of her asshole. It tasted metallic, and slightly sweet.

“Mmmm… your ass tastes great!” I exclaimed, raising my head. Then, parting her cheeks as widely as possible, I pushed my tongue into her rectum, fucking it in and out. By now, my cunt was throbbing like a idling engine, so I pulled up my dress and groped myself while I ate her ass.

“Holy fuck,” she said, “No one has ever done this to me before…”

“Really?” I asked, breathing heavily, still nuzzling her crack, “I got the impression you were pretty experienced.”

“I am! But this… this is some wild kinky shit.”

“But do you like it?” I cooed.

She twisted her head around, flashing me a bad-girl smile. “I fucking love it,” she gasped.

I grinned back. “Cool. Then you can do it to me.”

I gave her pussy and ass one more wet lick… and when Sarah rolled over and onto her back, I climbed on top of her, then crushed my mouth to hers in a passionate kiss.

She moaned as I fucked her mouth with my tongue, then broke away, eyes wild, panting for breath.

“Do you like how you taste?” I asked.

“Mmmyeah… it’s yummy,” she sighed.

“Good. Now lick me that way,” I said.

I’ve spent most of my life as a shy and awkward woman. But whenever I get past that shyness… well, let’s just say I let myself go completely.

Sarah had a big smile on her face. It made me hot. Clearly, she was ready to play my game.

I got on all fours and she knelt behind me. I felt her lift the hem of my dress and stroke my ass through the silk lingerie I wore. I was biting my lip, trembling in anticipation as she slowly slid my panties down. Then… nothing. I turned a bit and looked at her. Sitting back on her haunches, she removed her halter top and tossed it aside. Her breasts were lovely and round, with plump pink nipples. They had a nice natural sag to them that looked very motherly.

She fed her beautiful little girl from those, I thought… and suddenly I had a vision of her eleven-year-old daughter, curled in her mommy’s lap and nursing from Sarah’s breasts. Damn, I told myself, why can’t I stop thinking about Ashley?

I pushed that thought out of my mind. I didn’t want to go there. I arched my butt a bit further into the air, waiting for Sarah to pleasure me.

My skirt had fallen back down, and she pressed her hand tightly against my aching mound. I moaned. It felt so fucking good, but I wanted her to rim me.

“Lick my ass, damn it,” I moaned.

She kept caressing my pussy.

Oh, my fucking God… she had seen right through me! It was our first time together, but she just naturally understood that I was more of a sub than I seemed.

“Please, Sarah… please eat my ass,” I gasped.

Sarah took her hand away from my cunt and lifted my dress again, but she still didn’t give my anus the attention it craved. Instead, she began kissing my thighs and lightly caressing my bottom. Feather-light touches, not the frenzied assault I craved.

She was making me wait. I was building up like a seismic rumble about to turn into a fucking earthquake, and she was teasing me.

I knew, at that moment, that she was the perfect lover for me.

“Please,” I whimpered. “Oh, please, Sarah.”

“What do you want me to do-ooo?” she crooned.

“Rim me, lick my asshole.”

“Are you a dirty little slut?”

“Yes. Oh my God, yes.”

Sarah’s voice turned hard, insistent. “Then say it. Don’t make me drag it out of you.”

“I… I’m a dirty little slut.”

“Yes you are…”

I closed my eyes, trying to relax, but my heart was running like sixty. This was turning out even better than I could have imagined.

Her tongue! There, it was slipping through my crack. I shuddered and moaned, reaching back with one hand to spread my cheeks apart. “Oh, yes,” I whispered breathlessly, “yes!”

I felt a line of warm wetness gliding up and down between my buttocks, heard the sound of slurping and kissing. Wanting to bare myself completely for Sarah, I fumbled for the clasp of my skirt, unfastened it and cast it aside.

Now we were both naked but for our socks. I felt totally exposed and vulnerable, the most secret parts of me hers to use as she pleased.

“Should I put a finger in?” she asked.

“If you want,” I gasped out. “My ass b-belongs to you, lover.”

There was a pleased note in her voice. “How many?”

I wanted her to ravage me, tear me apart. “As many as you can.”

It must have been three. They felt enormous, stretching my rectum. There was pain, but it was glorious. I let out a long, hoarse moan. She pumped her fingers in and out, and I rocked my hips with the motion. I was going to come very soon.

Then I heard Kelsey’s voice cry out. The air conditioner had stopped, and the sound must have carried through the vent.

“What was that?” I panted, pulling away, feeling her fingers withdraw from me.

“It’s just the girls playing,” she said.

I’d been so close to coming, God damn it — but I was a mother first.

I stood, reaching for my skirt. “I’m going to check on them.” My legs were wobbly. I tried to breathe normally, but really couldn’t.

“Wait,” she said, “Don’t go. I still have a nanny cam installed. We can check from here without disturbing them.”

She reached for a remote, turning on the TV. She clicked through some complex menus, then an image of Ashley’s room popped up, and our two girls were there.

I wasn’t at all prepared for what I saw, and the sight nearly flattened me. Ashley was licking my daughter’s slit.

They were on Ashley’s bed. Kelsey was on her back, the hem of her dress pushed up around her waist. Ashley was lying prone between her legs, naked except for a pair of sheer pink panties. The image was a bit grainy, but I could see her fingers spreading Kelsey open, her tongue flicking in and out of my daughter’s vagina.

“I can get sound, too,” Sarah said, flatly. She fumbled with the remote a bit, and suddenly I heard the sound of Kelsey’s moans.

I could have reacted in many different ways. I could have shrieked, horrified. I could have cried, devastated, broken. I could have been overcome by the beauty of the two girls. I could have felt tenderness, and love.

Kelsey’s face was rapt with pleasure. She let out a long moan and stroked Ashley’s hair.

I sat down heavily on the side of Sarah’s bed and watched as my little girl experienced lesbian sex. Is it her first time? I wondered. It must be.

Sarah sat beside me and put her arm around me. She whispered, “Are you okay?”

My head was spinning, my body numb… but somehow I found the strength to reply. “Um… give me a minute to figure that out.”

“Oh, wow, that feels good!” It was Kelsey’s voice, ringing out over the speaker. She sure didn’t sound like a ten year old.

Sarah stroked me gently and kissed my cheek. “It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it?” she cooed.

Suddenly I knew that Sarah was right. It was beautiful. I brushed my nipples with trembling fingers, feeling my arousal grow. Ashley’s pert bottom, concealed by those little pink panties, was the loveliest thing I’d ever seen. The way her butt squirmed and gyrated was downright hypnotic.

“Ashley’s a dirty little girl, isn’t she?” I said. “God, she’s… she’s fucking my daughter.”

Sarah smiled. “And if things work out the way they should, Kelsey will be fucking her.”

What could I do? I sat and watched as Kelsey’s pleasure grew. Her face was angelic. I so dearly loved her… how could I deny my little girl this happiness?

I turned and gave Sarah a deep kiss. “In answer to your question…” I took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m fine with this. You’re right — they are beautiful together.”

“Good,” Sarah said, “Let’s go tell them, then. Let’s tell them they are beautiful and that we love them, and we’re happy that they’ve found one another.”

I frowned. “Shouldn’t we, um… wait until they finish?”

Sarah just smiled and took my hand. “Come,” she said, leading me toward the door.

“Aren’t we going to put our clothes on?” I gasped.

She shook her head. “Let’s be completely open with the girls,” she replied. “I want them to know about you and me.” She laughed. “After all… aren’t they lovers too?”

Heart racing, I followed her into the hall. Good grief, what was I getting myself into?

We went up to the door with the magenta KEEP OUT sign. She knocked lightly, then said, “Girls, we’re coming in.”

She opened the door and we entered. They were still in bed, but Kelsey had scrambled away from her little lover and was pressing her dress down. Ashley had rolled over and was smiling at us, her mouth wet from my daughter’s sex.

“Hi, Mommy. Hi, Audrey,” she said, “Kelsey’s pussy tastes great.”

My daughter looked as if she was about to burst into tears. “It’s okay, honey,” I hastened to assure her. “You aren’t in any kind of trouble, I promise.”

Sarah sat down next to Kelsey and put an arm around her shoulders, her bare breasts inches from my daughter’s face.

“Kelsey, dear,” she said, “Your mother and I know what you were doing, and it’s okay. We think it’s a wonderful thing that you and Ashley are so close. Right, Audrey?”

I nodded. “There’s nothing wrong with two girls making each other feel good, hon. It’s a loving, beautiful thing.”

“I told you it would be fine,” Ashley chirped, giving Kelsey a knowing grin. “Mommy and Audrey were doing the same stuff anyway. That’s why they don’t have any clothes on, see?”

I looked at Kelsey. She was blushing furiously, but had relaxed a bit. “Did it feel good, dear, having Ashley lick you?” I asked, figuring that the best way to prove I wasn’t upset was to ask her about it.

Suddenly she smiled bashfully, nodding her head. “Oh yes, Mommy. It felt really nice.”

Kelsey almost never called me ‘Mommy’ anymore. It was sweet that she’d choose to do so at a time like this. The pleasure she had just enjoyed made my little girl so incredibly beautiful that it warmed my heart to look at her.

“You two can keep making love,” Sarah said, “Don’t let us stop you. We’d like to watch.”

Eyes flashing excitedly, Ashley rolled back over between Kelsey’s legs and started to lift her skirt. Sarah was still sitting next to my daughter with a comforting arm around her.

Kelsey gave me a quizzical look, still feeling a bit confused about all of this.

“It’s fine, Kelsey,” I said, “Go ahead… let Ashley make love to you.”

Sarah stared at me, a question in her eyes. I understood her perfectly, just as she’d understood me before. As soon as she had led me to Ashley’s room I had known what might happen.

Now, without speaking a word, my new lover was asking, Shall we join our daughters?

I think my decision had already been made the instant I’d seen Ashley’s flawless ass on the video. I had to have her. Gazing at Sarah, I gave her the slightest of nods.

With a smile, she turned to my daughter, whose eyes were glazing over with pleasure as Ashley nuzzled her inner thighs. “Oh, Kelsey,” Sarah murmured, “You’re such a beautiful little girl. Let’s get you out of that dress, okay?”

Kelsey looked at me again.

“It’s all right, sweetie. If you want to, go ahead. You don’t need my permission for everything.”

Sarah sat Kelsey up and helped her pull off her jumper and blouse. I stared, utterly enthralled at the sight of my naked daughter. She had no breasts to speak of, but her nipples were small, pink, and a bit swollen.

Sarah leaned closer and lightly kissed my little girl on the mouth, then her tongue emerged to lick at Kelsey’s lower lip. My daughter was startled for an instant, but when Sarah kissed her again, she was ready. Her lips parted to receive Sarah’s tongue… then, a few heartbeats later, she began to return my lover’s kiss. Ashley watched eagerly as her mother seduced my child.

Breaking away, Sarah bent down to lick at Kelsey’s nipple, circling the erect nubbin with the tip of her tongue. I heard my daughter giggle, then gasp.

Lifting her head, Sarah gave my child a loving smile, then gently laid her back on the bed. Ashley immediately crawled between Kelsey’s legs and began to lick her again. Kelsey’s eyes fluttered, and she moaned softly.

Sarah curled up next to her, offering her bare breast to my daughter. With a bashful smile, Kelsey took my lover’s nipple between her lips and began to suckle. Sarah cooed gently and stroked my daughter’s face.

My God my God my God… she’s making love to my little girl! How can I allow this to happen?

Then my eyes shifted to Ashley, kneeling before my daughter, mouth glued to her bare slit. My heart began to throb at the sight of her outthrust ass, the dark cleft barely visible through her panties.

Then my eyes met Sarah’s. She looked at me — then at her daughter. She smiled and gave a gentle nod.

I actually licked my lips. It was my turn to play. My lover had just offered me the use of her eleven-year-old girl — a gift I was all too eager to accept.

There wasn’t enough room for all four of us on the bed, so I squatted next to it, leaning in to fondle Ashley’s little-girl bottom through her yellow cotton panties.

“I really like your butt, Ashley,” I murmured. “May I kiss it?”

“Um, sure,” she said, between licks of my Kelsey’s slit.

I kissed her through those thin, sheer panties, on her cheeks. Then my kisses traveled down to the bare cream-colored skin of her thighs before moving back up to her crack. I nuzzled my face into the dark cleft, breathing deeply, filling my lungs with the smell of the little girl’s ass. The girls hadn’t showered since their games outside, and her scent was sweet with a delicate musk. Not like a woman. More subtle.

“I’m going to take your panties off, honey,” I murmured.

She wriggled her hips in a very enticing way as I pulled her underpants down, leaving them dangling from an ankle. Her bare bottom was white, a bit plump, and utterly beautiful. I was smitten.

I reached out with both hands and spread her cheeks. Her asshole was tiny, a little pink jewel; round, lovely, perfect. I leaned in and gave it a gentle kiss. I heard her gasp. I licked it, running my tongue from her pussy up to her anus, through her butt crack, then back to her pussy.

“Mommy, she’s licking my butthole,” she moaned out.

“She likes to do that,” Sarah said, “Does it feel good?”

“It’s all… all tickly.”

I licked her some more, pressing in my tongue, not deeply. She was too tight for oral penetration, but it was lovely just to taste the smooth, slippery cleft of her anus. God, I loved rimming a woman — and now I knew that a little girl’s ass was even nicer.

“Ashley, your bottom tastes so good,” I moaned, raising my face from her crack.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah. Really.”

“Oooohh, that feels nice. You can keep licking me that way, if you like it.”

I liked it. I went in for more. She pushed her rump up, getting up on her knees, her face still nestled between Kelsey, thighs. I licked,  kissed and sucked at Ashley’s holes, alternating between her anus and her slit. My lips and chin were coated in the little girl’s fluids.

Kelsey began to moan loudly. I glanced up and saw my daughter’s face, rapt with pleasure as she drew closer and closer to sexual release. Has she ever come before? I wondered. With a loving smile, Sarah bent down to lick at my daughter’s nipples. I paused in my rimming of Ashley, allowing the child to give her full attention to Kelsey. Instead, I gently kissed the soft globes of her buttocks while she made love to my little girl.

Suddenly a squeal issued from Kelsey’s lips as she came. Her eyes clamped tightly shut, her mouth gaped wide. She let out a long, frantic moan, her body gone rigid for an instant. Then she bucked her hips, making Ashley grab her tightly so as not to be dislodged. Then she kicked out her legs, one of Kelsey’s feet hitting my head, not too hard. It was an incredible sight, my daughter lost in the rapture of orgasm.

Then a warm wave of pleasure surged through me, without warning. It wasn’t a climax. Perhaps it was just love, some kind of deep feeling for this beautiful crazy thing that was happening between mothers and their daughters.

When my eyes fluttered open, Kelsey was laughing in utter joy. “Oh Ashley! That felt so good. Oh my God, that felt so good. Thank you.” She gazed up shyly at Sarah, kneeling on the floor next to where she lay. “Thanks, Ms. Kinney. I liked kissing you.”

“I liked it too, honey,” Sarah whispered. “You have a sweet little mouth…” Her lips claimed Kelsey’s once more, and I felt a delicious shiver as my daughter’s tongue emerged to play with Sarah’s.

Ashley’s pert little bottom was still angled toward me, so I returned to her pussy for more. She’d gotten really wet while Kelsey came, and I began to feast on her warm honey, swallowing it down. I felt her squirm beneath me. She moaned. I licked deeper, pushing my tongue into her vagina, far as it could go.

Then Kelsey’s face was next to mine. She kissed my cheek.

“Mommy,” she sighed happily, “I want to lick Ashley now.”

“Oh, but honey — I’m enjoying this so much.”

“I know, Mommy, but she just did it to me. And she’s my girlfriend, right?”

I couldn’t argue with that, so I relinquished that sweet ass to my daughter. Ashley slid up the bed to give Kelsey room, but remained on all fours.

“Would you lick my butthole, like your mom did?” Ashley asked, twisting around to peer at Kelsey.

“I… I guess,” Kelsey said, looking at me again.

I smiled. “You can if you want to, honey.”

She did. She ran her tongue up along Ashley’s pussy, then licked at her little friend’s ass crack.

“That’s it — lick her bottom, sweetie,” I said. “Make love to her.”

“Mmmmm,” the girls cooed, both of them.

I glanced up at Sarah, who was sitting back against the wall, seemingly content to finger her pussy and watch my little girl rim her daughter.

“It appears that you’ve lost your sweet young ass,” she said.

“I guess so,”

“But,” she went on, “There is still one sweet young ass available to you. A luscious little bottom that you haven’t ever tasted.” She glanced at Kelsey’s butt and smiled.

It had to come to this, of course. I’d already passed over the barrier of what was permitted, what was forbidden. This was but one more small step.

I stared at my little girl’s pert rump — the pale skin, the delicately contoured globes, the dark pink crease nestled between her soft buttocks, the tender rosebud — and my mouth watered.

I returned to my previous position and began to gently kiss my daughter’s ass.

Kelsey raised her face from Ashley’s bottom and looked at me, astonished.

“Mommy?” she asked. Just that one word, in a tiny voice. Her eyes were filled with wonder.

“May I lick you, my love?” I asked.

A radiant smile appeared on her face. “Oh yes, Mommy, please lick me.”

She really said that. Exactly those words.

I closed my eyes and felt another intense wave of feeling pass over me. If I had touched my pussy at that moment, even the slightest caress… I think I would have died.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I felt Sarah watching me, waiting. Kelsey returned to her task, making Ashley moan and squirm. I gave Sarah a long deep look, seeing in her eyes what a major line I was about to cross.

Then I did it. I ate my daughter’s ass. I delved in and licked, probed, tasted. Eager for more, I allowed my tongue to drift down to her bare slit and began to explore. I felt her young, sweet body moan and squirm as I went down on my little girl, twisting around so that my head was resting on the bed, drawing her cunt down to my mouth. She tasted so good. I was in heaven.

I could hear Kelsey getting into licking Ashley, humming happily as she learned to love the taste of another girl. I continued to please my daughter with lips and tongue, her honey coating my mouth.

Suddenly I heard Ashley cry out, coming hard as my little girl brought her off. I felt so proud, knowing that Kelsey had learned to make love. Kelsey came again as I ate her, going rigid above me, calling out, “Oh, Mommy… oh, Mommy!” Finally she went limp, and I sat up, easing my flushed, dazed daughter onto her back.

Gazing adoringly at me, she cooed, “Mommy, thank you. I love you so much.”

And I loved her. I just started laughing at the wonder of it all, at the incredible thing I’d just done.

Then Sarah said, “Good job, girls. Now, I think it is time to make Audrey feel good.”

“What about you, Mommy?” Ashley asked, “When do you get to come?”

“I’ll get my turn, sweetie. Don’t worry about me. I want to watch you two make love to her.”

Trembling inside, I stood as the girls came close and began to touch me, their little hands caressing my bottom and breasts. Then their mouths were on my nipples, suckling them to aching stiffness. Two little girls, lovely and wonderful, peering up at me as they nursed.

“Oh, my,” I whimpered, my hands gliding over their nude bodies.

“Who wants to lick her butthole?” Sarah asked.

“Me!” Kelsey responded. “I want to. I love Mommy’s bottom…”

No parent could have been prouder of their child than I was right then of my daughter, so unselfishly eager to pleasure her mother.

“Okay, Kelsey, you kneel behind your mother and lick her ass. Ashley, get underneath and eat her pussy. All right, go!”

I squatted down to Ashley’s face, opening myself for her. I closed my eyes tightly as I felt little tongues entering me. I came within seconds. I went rigid. I shuddered. My legs gave out and I collapsed. I guess Sarah had predicted that, because she was there in time and caught me. I didn’t crush our little angels.

Then Sarah took me over to the bed. I was still overcome. My eyes were open, I think, but my mind was swirling. She tossed me face down, spread me open, and then slid three fingers in my ass, right where we had left off before.

There was a sharp pain, but it felt lovely. Her fingers, pumping me. I groaned and buried my face in the sheets. I came again hard, jerking this way and that.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned out.

“Oh, Mommy, that looks great.” I saw Kelsey’s sweet face enter my field of view. She kissed my mouth, passionately, her tongue seeking mine. I was too gone to return the kiss, though — just lying there, spent, exhausted.

“Let’s make her come once more,” I heard Sarah say.

I tried to mumble that I couldn’t. I feared it would kill me, if it happened at all. No words came from my mouth, however.

I felt fingers pumping my pussy. I felt a tongue in the crack of my ass that must have been Ashley’s. Kelsey lay in my arms, kissing me like a lover.

Then I heard a buzzing sound. Sarah must have had a vibrator stashed nearby, although I don’t know where. It pressed against my clit sending shocks of sensation up my body. I can’t call it pleasure, exactly. I was past pleasure and pain, at the level of primal desire.

Another orgasm, or something like one. I couldn’t form thoughts anymore. My body just reacted. I was an animal, a simple creature of need. I was the earth, a stone, the river, the fire. I went completely away.

Except I still saw Kelsey’s pretty little face. Her soft, shy smile. Her eyes. The idea of her being ten years old and my lover seemed perfectly right to me. I’d always had Kelsey. Now we had more. When everything else had left me, there would still be love.

I came back to the world slowly, Kelsey softly nuzzling me. I parted my lips, welcoming her tongue, and my daughter and I kissed. When I was myself again, I turned and looked at Sarah. My heart was singing.

“Did you go there?” she asked with a quiet smile. “To the empty place?”

“Yes,” I sighed happily. She knew! “Except it isn’t really empty.”

“No,” she cooed. “For us, it never is.” Then she glanced around at the girls and me. “Well, then… I guess it’s me now. Why don’t you each take turns.”

We did. We each ate her pussy and asshole, giving her three lovely orgasms. I went last. The vibrator in her anus and my tongue on her clit brought Sarah’s tired body home. When she finally came that third time, she kept her eyes open somehow, gazing intently at me. I felt something deep. Something like true love.

Later she and I lay in her bed watching something stupid on TV. The girls were in Ashley’s room, playing with dolls.

“So, um, you and Ashley have… been together before, right?” I asked.

She smiled wryly. “If by ‘together’, you mean sexually, then yes. I’ve been loving my little girl for years, even before her father left. This was our first time with others, though.”

I shook my head; half in wonder, half in disbelief. “Why me, then? Why would you take that chance?”

“It started with Kelsey, believe it or not.”

“Really?”

“Well, sort of. Ashley had the hugest crush on her from class. So, I thought we’d make this play date and I could keep you occupied somehow so they could hook up.”

“Nice. I made the play date so I could hook up with you.”

“Yeah. I figured that out. Anyhow, when you and I got together I felt something pretty deep, and I knew I had to try… you know… to make something real out of it. But you had to find out about me and Ashley. You had to be into… getting intimate with a young girl. Basically, I rolled the dice. It was worth it.”

I agreed. It was.

“I love you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around me. “You’re everything I ever dreamed of in a woman.”

I nuzzled her face, feeling an unimaginable warmth inside that seemed to light up my very soul. “I love you too,” I moaned. “God, I love you!”

“You’ll move in?” she asked.

“Of course,” I responded. I couldn’t imagine merely dating her. Not after what we’d just experienced.

We discussed living arrangements. She and I would share this room. Ashley would keep hers, and we could redo the guest room to be Kelsey’s. Although, I think we both suspected the girls would sleep together as often as not… and sometimes with us. I imagined the lovemaking the four of us could share.

“So, let’s go tell the girls they’ll be living together,” she said, “I expect they’ll be excited.”

“Yes,” I said, taking her hand and squeezing it, “I expect they will.”

The End

Revolutionettes, Chapter 15

  • Posted on April 13, 2018 at 10:18 am

By Amanda

1803 – Paris 

“Josephine trained you differently,” I said to Sandra.

She nodded her head.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“From the time I was nine, I was taught to pleasure women. That is why I exist. It is to please her, and to serve any woman she desires me to. It is all I am for, all I have ever been, and what I should always be.”

“Then why do you harbor such shame for what you are? If it is your destiny?”

“I was born in poverty to a drunkard father. I found myself in a girl’s home in New York, and the ladies there taught us to be good women. To be ladies, to be moral… all the things I can never be now.”

“So you regret it? Don’t you love only women?”

“Of course I do. I would rather die than suffer a man’s hand to touch me. But surely I could have found my way, couldn’t I?” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Forgive me, mistress. I spoke too familiarly.”

“Tsk,” I scolded. “You were doing so well. I thought you might call me by my name if I kept talking to you.”

“Mistress?”

“And now you’re lost in servitude again,” I said, disappointed. “Were it that I could order your shame away. That I could chase the feeling that you are unclean from your mind.”

“You do,” she said quietly. “When you take me, when we… I am never ashamed.”

“Is it the same with Josephine?”

“Well, she is more a mother than anything. I feel safe in her embrace, I hate myself for it, but that does not change the comfort.” Sandra tried to shake it away. “But mistress, please, must we speak of her?”

I wondered how deeply Sandra resented Josephine. As she spoke, her voice was tainted with poison. I wondered, was something emerging before me?

“Call me by my name and we will not speak of her again today.”

Sandra’s shoulders dropped and she lowered her head. “Mistress…” she whispered.

“Remember when I was tied to the bed? Left for days, brought to the brink of ecstasy, and then left unreleased? Had I asked for what I wanted on the first day, would I have been satisfied?”

“Yes, mistress. Did you not understand that she only wished for you to give your desires a voice?”

“You understand it then, don’t you? And yet it has no effect on you,” I explained carefully. “My name is the voice you can give your desires to change the subject.”

“It is not for me to…”

“Anything you want is yours, anything. Stop speaking like you are livestock. If you wish to be my lover, if you wish to remain in my home beyond the party that is fast approaching, then you must speak for yourself,” I lectured. “Or would you rather return to a mother who uses you as a pleasure tool? If that is it, I am happy to return you. I cannot say it’s the most awful fate you could meet.”

I slapped my hand on the table and it startled her attention toward me. “It pleases me,” I nearly shouted.

Sandra seemed shocked by my words. “Miss…” she struggled.

I thought I could hear my name upon her lips, begging to be freed.

“Miss, I love my mistress, but I want…”

“What do you want?” I demanded of her.

“I wish to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because I… I love you,” she answered.

“Now tell me, look me in the eye and tell me exactly what it is you want, or I’ll return you to your mistress the moment she arrives.”

“I… want to stay here… with you, with the one I love, Miss… Elizabeth.” She gasped at saying my name, and I was quite taken aback. I hadn’t expected it to be so simple.

“I feel as if I’ve just benefited from your skills with your tongue,” I laughed. “You took your first step. You have but three months to learn to fly now.”

I got up, held her face in my hands, and kissed her. “Tell me one more thing… why would it be that I’d let you stay, anyway?”

She almost looked stricken when I spoke, but I believe she was beginning to understand what I had just done.

“You love me…?” She seemed apologetic.

“Say it with confidence. Say it as if it’s the only way to make it true.”

“Because you love me.” She spoke with more spirit. Not nearly what I’d wanted but enough. Enough to see that perhaps the chick was making the first cracks in its shell.

“I’ve no wish to make you hate her. She is as she is. Josephine gave something to me that I cannot describe. I understand it more every day. And for all her hope to turn you into her pleasure slave, she has instilled the same in you. It’s there, under the servitude, under the shame. I know you have strength. How could you not to have lived so long with her?”

I left Sandra with that thought. I was beginning to fear I might be inspiring hate for her mistress, and that was not at all what I hoped for. In a way, I loved Josephine much as I did Catherine. They were both as mothers to me in their own right. Catherine had drawn me out from my shell, made me able to enjoy what I am. Josephine had taught me not to be ashamed, to live without any apology, and to speak for myself. There was more, much more, but if any lesson she taught followed me from my bed in to the light of day, it was confidence. A fearlessness about going after exactly what I wanted, and not looking back.

Days passed and Sandra said little. She had returned to sit at my feet. I allowed this to continue, only because from time to time she would speak up, she would speak as if she were my equal. She would take liberties. I believed that to nurture this, I must simply let it grow within her, in her own time. However, the looming anniversary continued to inspire a sense of emergency within me.

Sandra was progressing, though. I did not need for her to reach the fullness of who she could be, only to find within herself the courage to break the link with Josephine. I had worn a collar at the woman’s feet, a literal leash and collar, and she used these to control me. Without that, I could not as easily have been put through the ordeals I had been. I could have snatched the leash from her hand and left her as well. She did not hold any true power over me. The leash she had on Sandra, though, was much stronger. The hand that held it much more powerful.

The invitations had been long sent and the responses were coming in almost daily. This year, this time, I would have sixteen women at my party. Not the least important of whom being Catherine. Josephine was coming, of course, as were Eliza and Alice. Monique was a sure bet as was Annabelle. Twenty-two invitations had been sent; five had replied that they would not be able to attend. Penelope was on the list too. Precocious and spirited, I was very fond of her.

And another young woman, new to all of this. Virginia. She was nineteen, and I’d known her in passing since the first night my tavern had been opened. Over the past few months, though, I’d come to know her quite well.

Virginia had only just taken her vows to the church when she unexpectedly  became entangled in a passionate affair with a woman, the wife of a lawyer I was acquainted with through my own. Annette, Virginia’s lover, was careless and their affair soon was discovered, but not before they had come to know me and my tavern.

Annette was for all intents and purposes a prisoner of her husband. It was sad, as she had been known among the women of Paris. But there was nothing anyone could do for her.

I believe what I most loved about Virginia was that she still was a nun. How it was she managed to come to my tavern, my home, and how she managed to maintain any freedom whatsoever, was beyond guessing, but she would only smile and shrug if asked about it.

I’d prepared an invitation for Annette and given it to my lawyer with instructions to get it to her secretly, and not, under any circumstances, to let her husband know. I was certain she could not come, if indeed it was even possible for her to receive the invitation. For as much as I trusted my lawyer, and as much as he had always been honest with me, he could not risk his reputation or standing to deliver a secret letter to a lady not employing him and having no other business with him.

I did not ask him if had had delivered the invitation, nor did he tell me later when I saw him again. The truth was, if he could not or had not, I did not want to know, and if he had, then there was no expectation of a response. I had sent it mostly to let her know that she was not forgotten.

So, the few months dwindled to weeks and finally days. I was more nervous about whether or not Sandra would remain with me than I was about the party but I managed to keep my mind on what needed doing. I had drink and food, and obscene stories. I had guests from near and far, but what I did not have was a final night’s performance in mind. How it was that Catherine dreamt so many things up was beyond me. But a sensation would be expected, and I would oblige somehow even if it meant that I had to find a pair of sisters and pay them to put it on a show for us.

That was what finally gave me a notion of what I should do. Sisters, yes. Perhaps incest was a bit much to achieve, though it did not seem impossible in Paris. But another type of sister was common, and quite available to me. Virginia. I’d have preferred two nuns. After all, that would be twice the taboo, but one would be enough, especially If she wore her habit, something I’d never known her to do.

There were many churches in Paris, but only one convent within a reasonable distance of my tavern, a distance easily covered in time to be back in a single night. So I went there, hoping to find Virginia.

I knew little of convents. However I knew enough to know that one does not stride up to a door and knock. And if you did, what would you say? “Good day, Mother Superior, I’d like to speak with a sister…”

And that is where I’d be lost. Virginia had taken her vows. Her name was now Sister Mary something or another. She had no reason to share it with me, and I no reason to ask. That she was a nun was a secret. I did not know who all was privy to this but supposed the number was very small.

So I stood, quietly trying to think of what I might do. I was about to leave when I heard a voice call my name. I turned to find Virginia walking toward me holding several loaves of bread. I hurried toward her but resisted seeming too familiar. Fortune favors the brave, I suppose.

“Virginia —” I began.

She shook her head. “Sister Mary Michael,” she corrected.

“Of course, sister,” I said, then quietly asked, “You will come, yes?”

“Of course, my child,” she replied.

“Can we walk, sister?”

She nodded her head and we began walking along the street, trying to get away from any stray ears.

I was no Catholic, and remembered so little of the nuns’ teachings that I could not even recall how to properly cross myself. I was afraid I would say or do something that might bring suspicion upon her.

“Why are you here, Liz?” she asked.

“I have a terrible request to make of you,” I admitted. “On the last night of the party, I must have a show, a grand show, something obscene, something positively scandalous.”

“You think you can shock a nun? I hear priests talk about the confessions they hear. Worse, I live in a convent where the Mother Superior forbids the locking of the nuns’ and postulants’ cells. Have you any notion of what girls get up to when left to their own devices?”

I couldn’t help chuckling. Of course I had some idea. “Well, I should hope I might have a surprise or two left in me. Which is why I need to speak to you. I was wondering if you would come to my party in your habit, and perhaps allow me to make love to you as a spectacle.”

“Only Protestants would be surprised to see a nun involved in debauchery. Most of us are well behaved, but enough are not, and that is a dirty secret known by anyone who wants to know it.”

“Well I don’t know the religious leanings of each of the women I invited, but I have to suspect that it would still entertain them.”

“Liz, I’m a wicked, wicked girl,” Virginia laughed. “I will be found out some day and excommunicated, cast out on my own. But for now, being a nun protects me from marriage. I was born in poverty, so it is not as if I have any other way to avoid becoming the property of a man.”

She shrugged, then went on, “My order wears a blue habit. This is unique in Paris. If I do that for you, I expose myself to being discovered long before I am too old to bother with marrying.” She placed a hand on my arm. “I would love to do it, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

I nodded to her. “Of course, the risk is far too much for simple entertainment. Still, you are welcome all the same. I count you among my friends.”

She smiled and began to walk away, then stopped. “A different order once lived here. It wasn’t so very long ago. I doubt very much I could find one, but perhaps a habit may have been left behind somewhere. If one was, then you’ll have your show.”

“Oh, Virginia,” I said, “if the day ever comes when you are found out and expelled, my home will be open to you. I’ll employ you. If you have any skill in anything, I can give you work.”

We parted ways and I was able to get home before sunset. There I found Sandra helping Josette with last minute preparations. She wore her maid’s uniform. She was not a servant in my home, she was my lover, and seeing her like that troubled me.

“Sandra, when you’re done, please join me in the parlor.”

An hour passed before she stepped in and came to sit next to me. A bit of bravery, as she did not even hesitate. “Yes, miss,” she said.

“You’re not my maid, Sandra. Why are you in that uniform?”

“I know, miss… I didn’t want to soil one of my fine dresses, and I thought perhaps seeing me like this might excite you.”

I raised an eyebrow.

She grinned. “Isn’t it a common vice to bugger the help?”

I almost laughed out loud when she said that. “Have you been drinking, Sandra?”

“Drinking, miss? Oh… no. Only a glass of wine, and another glass. A snifter of brandy, and, oh, another glass of wine with lunch of course. But, no, I’ve not been drinking really.”

“No, not a drop at all,” I laughed. “Come along, girl. You’re groggy, I think.”

“But… but, Elizabeth…” She leaned against me. “What shall I tell the mistress when she arrives?”

“Ah, now I think I’m beginning to see things a little clearer.” I pulled her to my breast and stroked her back. “Have you decided what you will do?”

“I have decided what I want, but I don’t think I can say it.” She looked up at me. “If I go home with her, you’ll forget me. You’ll find a woman who’s good and decent and not at all tainted like me. “

“I don’t want a decent woman,” I told her. “And I don’t want a tainted woman.” I pressed my finger against her chest. “I want this woman.”

She nodded her head.

“Holding you here against your will would break my heart as surely as letting you go, Sandra. This is a choice you must make for your own reasons. But make certain that what you decide is decided only for your own reasons.”

“Is there no way for both of you to be happy?”

“There is none. But there’s surely a way for you to be happy, and be happy with the one you choose.” I held her close a moment longer. “Will you go back, or is this now your home?”

“I love my mistress. But I feel this is more a home to me than any place else I’ve ever lived. I wish to stay, Elizabeth.”

“I finally managed to get you to say my name, and perhaps someday I can get you to call me Liz like everyone else,” I chuckled. “So, you don’t know how to tell her then?”

“I can’t tell her, miss.”

Sandra had a pattern. In talking with me, she most often called me in recent weeks by my Christian name. But if she was afraid, or unsure, it was ‘miss’, and in the throes of passion, ‘my mistress.’ She was a work in progress, clearly, but she was making progress all the same.

“Tell her for me,” she begged. “Please, miss, if you truly love me, you can tell her.”

“Would she believe it from any other than your own lips?” I asked.

Sandra immediately shook her head.

“That’s why it must be you.”

I comforted her for a time until Josette came to tell me that the preparations were complete.

“Run along to bed, dear, and I’ll join you shortly,” I told Sandra. She nodded and hurried away.

When she was gone, I turned to Josette. “I must warn you, there will be a nun among us at the party. I thought you should know since you’re a Catholic.”

“In Paris we are all Catholic, madame.”

“Well, just the same.” I took her arm and we began walking toward my room.

“I am already damned by sins I dare not confess,” Josette said frankly.

I shrugged to myself. I supposed if I believed in such as sin or damnation any longer, I would harbor the same fears. But the nuns’ religious teachings had long been left behind me. They were discarded them somewhere in Philadelphia. Perhaps left under Maddy’s bed, forgotten and dusty, next to the spot where she kept her special bag, now my bag.

Over the years, I had gotten far more use from it and its contents than ever I got from the guilt and shame taught us by the nuns. But do not misunderstand. I harbor no ill will toward them. They are as much a part of what has made me as Maddy or Catherine or Josephine. I took all the best of what they gave me, and simply left the unnecessary bits behind.

And so, all too soon, it was the first day of my party. As the sun hung low in the sky, the first guests arrived. The bell rang and I happened to be in the hall when Josette answered the door to Annette.

“To what god do I owe thanks for this miracle?” I gasped as I hurried to meet her.

“Adultery, so Bacchus, I suppose.”

“Well, then, by all means, praise his name,” I laughed. “But how are you here, Annette? We all thought you a prisoner in your home.”

“I was. That is, until I happened to catch my dear and virtuous husband buggering his partner’s wife on his desk. I told him he could divorce me and that I would tell everyone why unless he gave me one-third of everything. Or, of course, he could turn a blind eye to my indiscretions and I would do the same for him. A third of his money is more than he is willing to part with, so I am free to do as I choose and he is free to seek the comforts of any woman desperate enough to lie on her back for him. He has a son. I gave him that a year after we married. So now, now I will not let him touch me, and he will not ask. I go where I please and so does he.”

“That is a miracle,” I exclaimed.

“Not really, because you see, I told her to do it. His partner is a toad, and while Henri may not be the smartest man or even a good lawyer, he is handsome. She was all too happy to be bedded by any man she could fit her legs around.”

I burst out laughing when she said this in such a matter of fact tone.

“Oh, but Annette, dear dear Annette how I have missed your frankness.”

“Well, you’ll get your fill now. I’ll be haunting your tavern as often as it is open.”

I was overjoyed to see her. She was not announced since she was the first guest and I had already seen her. But soon, very soon, more women began to arrive.

First Virginia was announced as she was led into the parlor. I greeted her, then quickly pushed her in front of Annette. Without hesitating, I told them my bedroom was at their disposal and they disappeared before I could say more.

“Mademoiselle Trudeau left this bag at the door,” Josette said as she entered the parlor. I took it, suspecting it contained her habit, or a habit of some description.

“I’ll put it away for her.”

Moments later, Monique arrived along with a young woman I did not know. She was introduced to me as Joan, a common name for women in Paris.

The full moon was high and shining brightly when Eliza, Alice, Catherine, and Josephine arrived together. I was elated to see them. I immediately set about trying to catch up with them on all that had happened since we last spoke. This was interrupted all too soon, though, by Madame Le Granade. I wanted to just sit and talk with my dear friends from the United States, but I was a hostess, so it was not to be.

I made my rounds, greeting each and every guest, and for those who’d brought another with them I learned the names, and made sure they learned mine. Glasses of wine were filled and drained, and before I had time to realize it, dinner was announced. I had to go to the dining room but I pulled Josette aside to ask her to inform Annette and Virginia that dinner was ready, but not to enter the bedroom when she did.

We were all long seated and had begun to eat when at last we were joined by the two stragglers I’d sent my maid to fetch. No one doubted why they were late, but no one bothered them about it either.

Sandra sat opposite me, as a wife. Catherine and Josephine shared the head of the table with me. Eliza and Alice were next, followed by the rest, in no order I had considered very carefully.

Seating arrangements were the worst part of any gathering. For many, just being present was enough, but there were always those who felt that they should have greater access or favor with the hostess, and since I was a woman of means and some power, there would inevitably be someone who took offense at being placed on the wrong side of the table or not near enough to the head. My solution was to put those most dear nearest to me for the first night, and then shuffle everyone about for each following night. This also allowed the women to mingle and get to know one another.

Continue on to Chapter 16

Summer Love Chapter 5

  • Posted on April 11, 2018 at 10:19 am

by callmeQ67

“Would you mind if I kissed you?”

Thirteen-year-old Kristen Hayes was surprised but secretly overjoyed by this question from her best friend.

“Cause when Ryan Harrington kissed me last weekend at Ashley’s party I don’t think he did it right,” Courtney had gone on to explain.

“And you think I could do better?” Kristen had answered. “I’ve never kissed anyone in my life.”

Courtney smiled. “Well then, we should practice. Don’t you want to know what to do when a boy kisses you for the first time?”

Kristen had little interest in kissing boys, but any excuse for kissing her best friend was okay with her. So they had kissed, slowly, tentatively, experimentally, with lots of giggles, but after a while, as they got more comfortable, they began to kiss passionately, like a pair of lovers in a movie. When Courtney’s tongue slipped into her mouth, Kristen thought she might die from happiness.

Over the past year, Kristen had come to realize that her feelings for Courtney were more than ordinary friendship. Just seeing her face made Kristen’s heart beat faster. When Courtney touched her casually she felt a wave of excitement ripple across her skin, and hot blood pulsed in her pussy. But that kiss confirmed the feeling that had been growing inside her. Kristen knew then that she didn’t want a boyfriend. She wanted Courtney.

She loved everything about that kiss, the feel of soft lips and wet slippery tongue, the smell of skin and saliva, the arms around her neck, the warmth of her friend’s body, the little ‘mmmm’ sounds Courtney made, like she was eating a really yummy dessert. Kristen wanted it to go on forever.

But Courtney had broken it off when she realized they were getting carried away, grinding the crotches of their jeans against each other. They had laughed nervously, knowing something amazing had just happened, but not understanding quite what it was.

That was nearly two months ago, just before school let out for the summer. Just as their kissing ‘practice’ had brought them closer than ever, something had happened to drive Courtney away.

Living only a few doors from each other, the two girls had been best friends since the first grade. But now they hadn’t spoken in weeks because Courtney never seemed to have time. She was always working at her lifeguard job or taking her bike on mysterious errands that lasted all afternoon. Strangest of all, yesterday she was picked up in a stretch limo and didn’t come back for hours and hours.

Her best friend seemed to be avoiding her, and Kristen was determined to find out why. On a hot Wednesday in August, she marched up the front steps of Courtney’s house and rang the doorbell. She knew that Courtney’s mom would be at work in the city. Her friend came to the door wearing boxer shorts and a ribbed white tank top, her hair wild and uncombed.

“Hi,” said Courtney, her voice gravelly with sleep. “Come on in.”

“Hi. Did I get you up?”

“Well, yeah. What time is it anyway?”

“Sorry. It’s almost noon, I thought you’d be up,” said Kristen. “You never used to sleep late.” She followed Courtney into the kitchen.

“Um… well, I was really tired last night.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I saw you get in that limo yesterday and then you didn’t come back until late… What’s going on? I never see you anymore.” Kristen blurted out the words, surprised by her own directness.

Courtney poured herself a glass of orange juice and looked at her friend. What would Kristen think if she told her the truth? How could I explain the events of last night? An image popped into her head of Mrs. Fazio’s hairy cunt and of her own hand slipping into that juicy wet hole”

“Kristy… I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good friend this summer. There’s a lot going on and it’s kind of hard to explain… Oh, God, you’re going to think I’m a terrible person.” She suddenly looked as if she might cry.

Kristen wrapped her arms around Courtney and hugged her tight.

“I’m your best friend,” she said gently. “There’s nothing you can say that would make me think you’re a bad person.”

She looked into Courtney’s eyes.

“You’re not into drugs, are you? Are you smoking crack? Shooting heroin? Crystal meth?”

Courtney laughed. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m fine, I promise.”

She studied Kristen’s face. This was her best friend and she didn’t want to lose her. There was no way she would be okay with the scene at Melinda’s house… Would she? Letting her into this new world would be a terrible risk. Kristen had never indicated that she liked girls. Except for that night they had kissed.

“Look,” she began. “I don’t think I can put it into words. It’s just too complicated. Maybe I could show you instead.”

“Courtney! You’re scaring me! Why can’t you?”

But Courtney interrupted. “Come with me this afternoon, okay? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

An hour later the two thirteen-year-olds were riding their bikes through a quiet suburban neighborhood.

Kristen noticed that the houses were getting bigger and farther apart, the traffic non-existent. She followed Courtney up the drive of a modern house surrounded by huge old maples and oaks. There was a truck parked on the grass with Artie’s Landscaping stencilled on its side.

Just as the girls were dismounting from their bicycles, three men appeared from behind the house wearing dirty work clothes and boots. Two looked like university students on summer break and the third was older, probably in his forties. All three looked very fit, with powerful arms and shoulders.

The men were laughing and the two student types were giving each other a high five. When he spotted the girls, the older man smiled at them.

“Hello there,” he said. “Are you here to sell Girl Scout cookies?”

“Ha, that’s funny,” said Courtney in her best deadpan. “We’re friends of Mrs. Lunsford.”

“I bet you are,” he said, his eyes roving over the girls’ bodies. “I bet you are. She’s out by the pool. It’s just down this path and through the gate.”

“Thanks,” said Courtney. “I know where it is.”

As they turned the corner, Kristen noticed that the men were still ogling them. She heard one of them say, “I wouldn’t mind a bite of their cookies.”

“Ew,” said Kristen. “Did you see the way those creeps were staring at us?”

“I didn’t mind,” Courtney said. “I thought the two younger ones were kinda hot.”

Kristen could only shake her head in disgust.

The pool area was beautifully decorated with flowering vines and hand-painted Mexican tiles, and Kristen was impressed in spite of her misgivings. Courtney had told her very little, only that she had made a friend at the country club and that she was older but very cool.

“Hello, Courtney,” came a voice from the shade of a wisteria-covered arbor. “Who’s your friend?”

“Hi, Mrs. Lunsford. This is my best friend, Kristen. I hope you don’t mind that I brought her along.”

The girl with Courtney was slender with long blonde hair. A real stunner, thought Melinda. She admired Kristen’s pretty face and fair skin, which seemed to glow in the afternoon sun.

Kristen stepped out of the bright sunlight and saw an attractive woman reclining on a chaise longue, cigarette in hand. She noticed an ice bucket, a cocktail shaker and a glass of some greenish concoction on a table. She noticed that the woman’s body was shiny with sun lotion, and that she had a nice smile and very white teeth. She noticed that the woman had no tan lines on her body and had full, round breasts. Both of these facts were inescapable because the woman was completely nude.

“Hello, Kristen, how nice to meet you. What has Courtney told you about me?”

“Um, not much. Just that she met you at the club and that you’re really awesome.”

“High praise, indeed,” said Melinda, smiling. “Courtney, why haven’t you told me about your lovely friend?”

“I did tell you about her,” said Courtney, a little defensively. “A couple of weeks ago when you asked me… uh…”

“Yes? Asked you what?”

“You asked me if I’d ever kissed a girl before.”

“Oh! You’re that Kristen, are you?”

Kristen felt the flush of blood rising up her neck and face and knew she had turned crimson. How could Courtney have told this stranger her most cherished secret?

“Oh look, she’s blushing. How adorable,” said Melinda. “You enjoyed that kiss didn’t you, Courtney?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, “a lot.” She flashed a grin at Kristen, who was staring at her open-mouthed.

“Why don’t you kiss her again,” said Melinda, “and see if it’s as good as you remember.”

Courtney turned and looked into her friend’s eyes.

“This is crazy!” Kristen began. “Do you really think I’m going to…”

Courtney put a finger to Kristen’s lips.

“Shhh,” she said, softly.

Kristen had been waiting for two months to kiss her friend again, but she didn’t imagine it like this. Not in front of a woman she had just met! But the look on Courtney’s face pushed her objections to the background. Her eyes were full of such longing that Kristen’s defences crumbled.

The instant their lips touched the rest of the world ceased to exist. All the suppressed desire for her friend flooded Kristen’s body as they kissed deeply, hungrily, and she knew this was right. This was what she’d been wanting. This was what was missing from her life.

She held Courtney’s face in both hands as they kissed, then ran her fingers through her friend’s thick chestnut tresses. It was so good to finally touch her this way, like a lover, that she almost forgot Melinda was watching. Courtney’s hands were inside her t-shirt caressing the skin of her back and sides, and every touch fuelled a need that threatened to consume her.

Kristen had no idea how long they kissed, but at last Melinda spoke and brought her back to reality… a new, altered reality.

“Let’s have a look at her, Courtney,” Melinda said. “Take off her clothes.”

They broke off their kiss, panting with desire. Courtney grabbed the hem of Kristen’s t-shirt and started to lift.

“I’m so fucking hot for you, Kristy.”

“Courtney, I… “

“Do you want me?” Courtney asked her friend. “Because I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Kristen could only gaze at her friend in wonder. This was her fantasy come true. She couldn’t speak, but raised her arms over her head to help Courtney remove her t-shirt. Under it she wore a rather conservative bikini top.

“You have such beautiful skin,” said Courtney, running her hands over her friend’s body.

Melinda couldn’t agree more. Kristen had a creamy white complexion with hints of pink.

Kristen turned self-conscious again when Courtney began to undo her bra. While her friend had developed boobs and hips in the past year, Kristen’s body was still skinny and straight. Her breasts were slight mounds, little more that the suggestion of breasts, capped with pale cone-shaped aureoles. She clutched the loosened bra to her chest.

“Don’t be shy,” said Melinda. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, trying to pull her hands away. “I wanna see your boobs, too.”

“What boobs?” said Kristen, giving in. “I haven’t got anything compared to you.”

“Oh!” Courtney said, fastening her hands to Kristen’s chest. “These are pretty!”

Kirsten’s big puffy nipples were very sensitive, and she gasped as Courtney twisted them. A jolt of electricity shot straight to her cunt, making it throb.

Her experienced friend licked one of Kristen’s nipples then blew on it, watching it harden. She sucked it between her lips and nipped it gently with her teeth.

Kristen whimpered with pleasure.

“Oh, Courtney,” she said as her friend repeated the process on her other breast.

“Mmm, yummy,” said Courtney smiling, and the two friends kissed some more.

“I wanna touch your boobs, too,” said Kristen as she tugged at her friend’s t-shirt. Courtney was wearing a robin’s egg blue bikini top, and it contrasted nicely with her sun-browned skin.

“Wow,” Kristen said. “I think your boobs are even bigger than the last time I saw you.”

Courtney smiled and turned around so her friend could untie the strings that held her top in place. When she turned back Kristen could only stare speechless at the sight of Courtney’s sensational C-cup tits. Courtney laughed at her reaction.

“You can touch them, you know,” she said. “Or do you just wanna look at them all day?”

Kristen cupped the perfect titties in her hands and squeezed gently. “Oh, my God!” she said. “They’re amazing!”

Courtney laughed again. “You can squeeze them harder if you want. Go ahead and play with them.”

Kristen made them wobble and bounce in her hands, and both of them giggled like… well, like thirteen-year-old girls. Kristen shifted her attention to Courtney’s hard nipples, and remembering what Courtney had done she licked and blew on them, watching as the delicate flesh crinkled.

“Now suck on them,” Courtney said.

“Like that?” Kristen said a minute later, looking up at her friend.

“That’s perfect. Now bite them a little. Yeah… Harder… Oh, fuck, yes.”

A moment later Courtney raised her friend’s head and kissed her again. “Let’s get these off,” she said, unbuttoning Kristen’s denim cut-offs. “I’m going to make you feel things you never even imagined.”

Kristen’s shorts were lowered to reveal her bikini bottoms, which were a little loose on her slim hips.

Courtney knelt at her feet, smiling up at her. “These too,” she said, hooking her fingers in the elastic waistband. “Beautiful,” Courtney said, seeing her friend’s pussy up close for the first time. “Like a ripe peach.”

Kristen’s labia were rosy pink in contrast to the white of her thighs and belly. There was almost no hair, just a bit of blonde fuzz at the top of her mound.

“Lie down,” Courtney said, pushing her friend back onto the cushioned lounge chair next to Melinda’s. She pushed Kristen’s legs apart and knelt between them.

The blonde teenager sighed as two soft hands stroked the skin of her inner thighs, touching her in a way that no one had ever done before. Then Courtney’s lips were pressed to her tender flesh, giving her goose bumps.

“Oh!” Kristen gasped as her best friend licked the hollow place at the top of her thigh.

Courtney smiled up at her and licked the other side.

A finger slid gently up and down Kristen’s tight slit until it began to open like a flower. Her breathing grew quick and shallow, and her mouth was suddenly dry. The finger dipped deeper between her puffy labia, finding her opening. Kristen felt the need rising inside her, building momentum like a train gathering speed.

“You’re so wet,” said Courtney, slathering her friend’s slick natural lube over her vulva until everything glistened with pussy honey.

“So pretty,” Courtney said, kissing the blood-engorged lips. “And so sweet.”

Kristen looked down wide-eyed as her friend’s tongue slipped between her pink folds. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her fantasies had always been rather vague and involved lots of kissing and touching, but she had never gone so far as to imagine her friend’s beloved face between her legs. The sight alone was incredibly arousing, and the fact that she was actually licking her most intimate place was so far beyond anything she had dreamt.

“Oh Courtney,” she said. “That feels so good.”

Courtney looked up at her with a wicked gleam in her eye. “I’m just getting started,” she said.

The brunette teen circled her friend’s clit then plunged her tongue as deeply as she could into Kristen’s little fuck hole. When she started to lick Kristen’s pussy slowly from bottom to top, her friend’s hips began to move to the same rhythm.

The life Kristen had known faded away as her need continued to grow, the train now running downhill and out of control.

Kristen was in another world, completely unaware that she was humping her best friend’s face. She no longer cared who was watching.

“Oh, God… Oh, my God… Oh, please, Courtney,” she begged, “I’m almost there… ”

As Kristen’s pelvis moved faster and faster, Courtney hooked her arms around Kristen’s thighs and spread her labia with her fingers, pulling the hood back from her clit. She lapped at the little pink pleasure button as Kristen’s hips rose off the cushion, pressing herself urgently into Courtney’s mouth.

Enormous waves of pleasure crashed over the willowy blonde lifting her up, higher and higher, as bursts of color and light went off in her head. She came with a strangled cry, her hands grasping fistfuls of Courtney’s dark hair. At last she fell back to earth, limp and exhausted. Her clit became unbearably sensitive and Courtney raised her head just as Kristen could stand no more.

Courtney grinned and brushed a lock of hair from Kristen’s sweaty face.

“Was that okay?” she asked.

Kristen smiled weakly, nodding.

“So… ” Courtney began, “you’re not too freaked out? Are we still friends?”

“Oh, my God, yes!” said Kristen. “You’re my best friend! You’ll always be my best friend!”

“You’re so awesome!” Courtney said, kissing her friend, her lips wet with girl juice. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”

The two teens smiled happily at each other.

“I hate to break up this little love fest,” said Melinda.

Kristen turned in her direction. She had almost forgotten the older woman was there.

“But don’t you think it’s time you returned the favor, Kristen?”

The two girls looked at each other and giggled when Courtney raised her eyebrows comically.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” she whispered.

“I want to,” said Kristen. “I want to make you feel good.”

Courtney smiled and kissed her again before stripping off her shorts and bikini bottom. She knelt, straddling Kristen’s head.

The skinny blonde marveled at her best friend’s sex, so different from her own. The hair was dark and there was more of it, mostly at the top of her mound and in wispy trails along her slit. Then there were the thick pulpy inner lips that protruded from the swollen outer lips, like a huge wad of well-chewed pink bubble gum. She could smell her friend’s arousal.

“Courtney,” she said, “I’ve never done this before … “

“Don’t worry. Just do whatever would feel good to you. I’ll love it.”

Kristen touched her friend’s pussy tentatively. The sticky, curled inner lips were folded together and she worked them apart with a finger, finding the slippery channel between them. She used the juice to paint Courtney’s vulva, and pulled back the folds to expose her clit, tickling it gently.

“Mmm, that’s good,” Courtney said. “Now lick it.”

Kristen stuck out her tongue and tasted another girl’s pussy for the first time. She found that it was both tangy and sweet, and she began to kiss it much as she had French kissed her pretty friend’s mouth. Encouraged by Courtney’s girlish cries of pleasure, she explored the shapely brunette’s lavish pink womanhood with her tongue, probing the crevices, tracing the edges of the thick flaps and even sucking them into her mouth.

Courtney was moving her hips and Kristen tried to match the rhythm. “Yes, like that!” said Courtney. “Right there! Lick my clit!”

Kristen grabbed her friend’s bouncing butt and held on as Courtney rode her face. Holding her tongue flat, she let Courtney slide her vulva up and down on it, bruising her lips and spreading cream from her nose to her chin.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Courtney squealed a moment later. “Oh, Kristy, I’m coming! Don’t stop! I’m coming!”

Her high-pitched shrieks were music to Kristen’s ears. She drank up the flowing nectar and held onto Courtney’s hips as the brunette’s muscles shook spasmodically.

Courtney collapsed on top of her friend’s slim body, her face resting on one of Kristen’s thighs.

“Well, Courtney,” said Melinda, “did your little friend please you?”

“Oh, my gosh, yes,” said Courtney. “She made me come so good.”

“Then it seems she has potential. But let’s leave her for now. Watching you two has got me in a lather. It’s time for you to get over here now,” said Melinda coldly, “and satisfy me.”

Kristen was shocked at the older woman’s tone. It sounded more like an order than a request. Melinda leaned back imperiously in her chaise, her legs crossed at the ankle, a drink in one hand. The blonde teenager had to admit she was attractive, with her smart hairstyle and shapely figure. Her breasts, in particular, were magnificent.

Courtney knelt on the lounger at Melinda’s feet.

“Yes, come and get it honey,” said the older woman, spreading her legs.

The little brunette noticed that there was a huge wet spot on the cushion under Melinda’s crotch, and her shaved pussy and upper thighs were slick with residue.

Even as her nose picked up a new scent and her tongue a foreign taste, Courtney didn’t stop to ask why.

With both hands gripping the teen’s hair, Melinda pressed Courtney’s mouth tight to her dripping cunt.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she said, her head rolling back in rapture. “Drink it up, Courtney.”

She loved the sight of the teenager’s pretty face between her legs almost as much as she enjoyed what the girl was doing with her trained tongue.

“Fuck, yes,” she said again.

Using Courtney’s face like a masturbation device, Melinda rubbed it up and down, back and forth over her slimy gash.

Abruptly, Melinda raised Courtney’s head. The pretty brunette gasped for breath, her face covered with slippery juices.

“Courtney,” she said, “tell your friend what you are to me.”

Courtney tried to turn away but Melinda held her fast.

“Go on, tell her,” insisted the older woman.

“I’m your fuck toy,” said Courtney softly, her eyes downcast.

“Look at me and speak up,” said Melinda. “I couldn’t hear you.”

Courtney looked at Melinda with her big brown eyes. “I’m your fuck toy,” she said again.

“Yes, you are,” said Melinda. “Now eat my cunt like a good little fuck toy.”

She sighed as Courtney went back to sucking her gooey snatch.

The older woman turned to see Kristen’s reaction.

The slender teen had a look of horror on her face… but her hand was between her legs, rubbing her fuzzy blonde mound.

“Kristen,” she said. “Did you happen to see some men leaving when you arrived?”

“Um … yeah. I didn’t like the way they looked at us.”

“They may be cretins,” said Melinda with a corrupt smile. “But I highly recommend Artie and his crew. They sure know how to treat their customers.”

She looked down at Courtney’s face between her widespread legs.

“Yes, my love,” she said. “All three of those big oafs fucked my hot little pussy. You just gobbled up three loads of man cum. Does that make you feel dirty?”

Courtney looked stricken. “I thought… I thought you… “

“You thought what? You thought I loved you? I do love you, my sweet little girl. Is that what you wanted to hear? Good, now keep eating my cunt,” she said, pushing Courtney’s face back to her sloppy fuck hole. “You thought I only liked girls? Well, I do prefer girls, but there are times when a hard cock can be useful. Sometimes,” she laughed, “even two or three hard cocks.”

“Kristen,” said Melinda, turning to her again. “Do you think Courtney looks sexy eating my cunt?”

Kristen could only nod in agreement. “Come here and let me get a better look at you.” Standing as if in a trance, Kristen was still trying to absorb what she’d seen and heard. Fuck toyCourtney? Her gorgeous, independent-minded best friend was this woman’s fuck toy?

As she considered, the wealthy blonde wife’s hands roamed over her slim body, pausing to squeeze her aching nipples. Courtney watched as Melinda explored her recently innocent friend’s most private places. Cupping the child’s nearly hairless peach, her fingers sought out the juicy insides. Kristen let out a gasp.

“Oh my,” said Melinda. “Another virgin.” She licked Kristen’s honey from her fingers. “You’re delicious,” she said. “Climb up here so I can eat you.”

The slender blonde didn’t know what to think. Part of her was appalled that Courtney would submit to this woman’s perverse will. But at the same time she had never been so turned on in her life. Her pussy was throbbing with need. She knelt astride Melinda’s head, her own face next to Courtney’s.

Thirteen-year-old Kristen nearly sobbed with joy as Melinda’s tongue parted her pink folds.

Courtney raised her head from her lover’s swampy shaved cunt to kiss her best friend.

Kristen fell into that kiss… down, down into a deep black sensory-filled ocean where nothing mattered but Melinda’s tongue in her sex and Courtney’s tongue in her mouth. Everything else was forgotten. The euphoria was absolute, better than any drug. When she came screaming into Courtney’s mouth, Kristen knew that she would do anything to have that feeling again.

* * *

Friday night, and the two girls were at Courtney’s house doing each other’s makeup. Melinda had told them to ‘look slutty’ so they were using eyeliner, mascara and lots of dark eye shadow. Neither of them was normally allowed to wear makeup, and their mothers would have been shocked and outraged to see them this way.

When they were finished they put on the clothes that Melinda had bought for them: matching white blouses and short pleated skirts, white knee socks and black mary janes, lacy white thongs, no bras.

“Oh, my God,” said Kristen. “You look like a hooker! A really expensive hooker,” she added.

“Thanks a lot,” Courtney giggled. “Here, let me give you some lip gloss.”

Kristen pouted as her friend painted her lips.

“You look gorgeous,” said Courtney. “Like a cover model.”

The doorbell rang.

“That’s Mrs. Lunsford,” said Courtney. “Right on time.”

The girls ran downstairs and opened the front door.

It was not Melinda Lunsford, but her friend Brooke Leslie instead. At nearly six feet tall, she was an intimidating presence, even more so now wearing combat trousers, combat boots and a black leather jacket.

Courtney was a little afraid of her ever since Brooke had tied Courtney to her own bed, blindfolded her, and forced her to do unspeakable things.

“Hello, girls,” she said. “Mrs. Lunsford says she’s sorry she can’t be here, but she’ll meet up with us later.” Ignoring the teenagers’ obvious concern, Brooke said, “You two look great. Let’s get going.”

The girls got into the back seat of Brooke’s Mercedes.

“Everything’s cool with your parents, right?” asked the tall butch lesbian. “You can stay out all night?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said. “My mom thinks I’m sleeping over at Kristen’s house and her parents think she’s sleeping at my house.”

“What if they check?”

“They never do,” said Kristen. “We stay at each other’s houses all the time.”

The three rode in silence for a few minutes.

“Um … “ began Courtney hesitantly, “can you explain again what tonight is all about?”

“Sure. There’s a big fundraising event for Melinda’s alma mater. A lot of her old friends will be there. She just wants to show you off a little, then she’ll take you to her place to have some fun.”

“And that’s why we had to dress like this?”

“That’s right,” said Brooke. “It’s kind of a silly thing. You know, to make her friends jealous.”

“And you think we’ll make her friends jealous?” asked Kristen.

Brooke grinned at her in the mirror. “You sure will, honey. You sure will.”

A minute late Brooke parked the car on a busy urban street. She turned to face the girls. “There’s just one more thing we need to complete your outfits,” she said. “Here, put these on.”

She handed each girl what appeared to be a dog collar.

Courtney looked at the thing in her hand like it was a snake about to bite her. Made of black leather about an inch wide, it was indeed a collar with the words ‘FUCK TOY’ emblazoned on it in shiny chrome letters. Kristen’s was the same. The girls looked at each other in shock.

“Mrs. Lunsford really expects us to wear these?” Courtney said. “In public?”

Brooke exploded. “You’re goddamned right she expects you to wear them! This night is very important to her. If you’re going to fuck it up then I’d better take you home right now. I’ll tell her you don’t want to see her anymore.”

“Okay, okay,” said Courtney. “If it’s that important to her.”

She and Kristen reluctantly helped each other buckle the collars around their pretty necks. They got out of the car and started walking, while trying to ignore the stares of people heading to the area’s many bars and restaurants. They bristled at the catcalls and lewd comments from men, and blushed with shame as they passed a family with two young daughters about their age.

“Here we are,” said Brooke, stopping in front of an especially raucous tavern. There was a female bouncer at the door checking the IDs of a group of college girls. This can’t be right, thought Courtney. She was expecting a fancy restaurant or banquet hall.

“Well, well,” said the bouncer, eyeing Kristen and Courtney.

The bouncer was rather stout, and wore a leather vest that showed her muscular, tattooed arms. Her eyebrow was pierced, as was her nostril and her lower lip. Her hair was very short, and a tattoo of a dragon climbed from her breast and wrapped around her neck.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Brooke. Do your little fuck toys have ID?”

“They’re both eighteen,” said Brooke. “I can vouch for them.”

“Sure they are,” said the bouncer. She sighed as Brooke slipped her a one-hundred dollar bill. “You better keep them out of trouble.”

“Don’t worry,” said Brooke. “But just to be sure nothing happens, maybe you should lock the door and come in with us.” She lowered her voice, but not enough to prevent the two girls from hearing. “You don’t want to miss this,” she said.

With that, she pushed the two frightened thirteen-year-olds into the bar.

Continue on to Chapter 6