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Daria’s Dreams Chapter 1

  • Posted on May 25, 2018 at 8:40 am

by Jojo Starr

She was warm, and soft, and unbelievably pretty. So pretty it made Daria’s stomach twist up in knots and her throat unable to speak.

Daria felt her heart pounding and her body started to tingle all over. It was happening again and it felt good… so good. Daria could feel herself breathing heavier and her temperature rising fast. She felt her face and chest flush and another thrilling tingle took hold of her. She could feel the girl’s body heat close to her, and she felt her own temperature rise even higher.

The girl’s skin was so soft and smooth, her hands so delicate. Daria could smell the girl’s skin and hair, and it made her heart pound even faster.

She felt an urge inside – a deep, throbbing, incredibly powerful urge – stronger than she’d ever felt before. It was so intoxicating, so wonderfully thrilling and dizzying. This girl had a strange and intense power over Daria, and Daria felt absolutely helpless to resist it.

Daria wanted her – desperately. She’d never felt anything so powerful. Her body burned for her. Her breath was quick, her heart was beating out of control. She couldn’t resist the urge any longer. Her body trembling with desire, she leaned forward into the girl, opened her mouth, and…

Daria’s eyes opened wide. The girl had vanished, but her body was still throbbing with incredible desire.

Daria tried desperately to hang on to the memory – it had felt so good – but it was fading fast. The more she tried to recall it, the faster it seemed to fade.

She bit her lip and silently cursed herself. Her body was completely worked up – hot, tingling, and flushed. She had never been so aroused in her life – only in these dreams. And this was the fourth one already!

She swallowed dryly, wondering what it was all about. It was so strange for her… The dreams had always been about a girl, and Daria suspected it was the same one, but she could never remember the girl’s face.

Daria was utterly confused. She had never been attracted to girls before – at least that she was aware of – and yet these dreams had caused such incredibly powerful feelings in her. Feelings beyond anything she’d ever felt in real life for anyone – boys or girls.

Was she a lesbian? She had no idea. She didn’t want to throw a label on herself on the basis of a few dreams, especially when she didn’t feel anything particular for girls while she was awake.

But still, she couldn’t deny the power of those dreams. They were so powerful and so strong, and they awakened such wonderful feelings in her that made her feel so alive, so full of passion and desire.

She kind of hated to admit it to herself, but she secretly loved those dreams. They were so thrilling and so sexual and so intense. She was getting to the point where she kind of wished for them each night. They provided a welcome dose of excitement to her otherwise average, boring life.

So what if they were about a girl, she started to think. They were only dreams. It’s not like she was doing anything in real life. And besides, only she knew about them. They were her own private little secret.

Even so, at the same time, they were incredibly frustrating. They got Daria all worked up and excited beyond her wildest dreams, and then somehow they managed to stop right when she was about to do something really exciting and naughty, like kiss the girl. She desperately wanted the dream to continue, but after she woke up, her adrenaline was going so fast there was no way she was getting back to sleep.

It was also frustrating that she couldn’t remember the girl’s face. It always seemed like while she was dreaming, she was always looking right at the girl and into her eyes, which was part of why it was so exciting.

She knew the girl was pretty – the prettiest girl she’d ever seen, in fact. So pretty it made her whole body weak. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember any specifics. If she could, maybe she could think about the girl during the day and get that same feeling back, maybe do a little bit of daydreaming. But without any specifics, there was nothing to hold on to, and nothing she could use to piece together the memory and recreate that feeling.

Daria bit her lip and looked over at her nightstand clock. It was 5:15 am. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep, since she would have to get up for school in another half hour. So she lay awake in bed and let her mind run wild, which was pretty much the only thing she could do.

Daria was sixteen, and a junior in high school. She had never had a boyfriend – didn’t see the point, really – and spent most of her time focusing on school and getting good grades. In fact, she hadn’t even really given sex much thought at all… until these dreams, that is. Thinking about sex had never really done much for her, and she never really had a desire to explore that side of life. She never masturbated – again, not really seeing the point – and never had any sexual urges – at least, none that she thought were worth spending any time on.

But lately things were different. These dreams had started a few weeks ago, and there was quite a gap between the first and second ones. But then the third one followed just a few days after the second one, and this one came just a few days after that. This was already the second one she’d had this week.

These dreams were awakening something in her body she didn’t know she had. Something deep and primal and powerfully sexual. A few weeks ago, Daria would have laughed if anyone asked her if she was a sexual person, but now she wasn’t so sure. These feelings were so intense and so wonderful, she was now starting to see the appeal and why people seemed to talk about sex so much.

Still, it’s not like she had any sexual experience to speak of, and she wouldn’t know what the hell to do if she was presented with an opportunity. All she had were urges. But, oh, what wonderful, incredibly thrilling urges!

All she could hope for was to keep having them and to try harder every time to hang on to those dreams before they faded from her memory. Maybe, just maybe, she would even be able to stay asleep long enough to actually DO something with that mystery girl! She could only hope.

Daria sighed and rolled onto her side. She looked across the room at the bed against the opposite wall and saw the small form of her sister under the sheets, breathing softly. Daria felt her heart melt as she lingered on her sister’s form. Miley was the one person in the world she loved more than anything else.

While most kids her age were idiots and only cared about partying or boyfriends or doing stupid stuff, Miley was different. She was sweet, kind, and incredibly intelligent. Miley was only fourteen and had just started high school, but already she was getting even better grades and was showing more promise and potential than Daria had at that age. Daria had no doubt Miley would go far in life – she might even end up changing the world one day.

Daria loved her sister so much. She was so impressed with how she was growing up and was so incredibly proud of her. All through junior high, Miley had gone against the grain and stayed ahead of her class, keeping her focus, not doing any of the stupid things her peers did. Daria had been incredibly impressed with that.

And now that she was in high school, Miley was already a member of five different clubs, on the swim team, and heading the honor roll committee for her class. She was destined for greatness, Daria just knew it. She had long conversations with Miley about staying focused and being future-oriented. They bonded over their knack for their studies and commiserated over being somewhat socially outcast. Neither had very many close friends, but they had each other. And that’s what mattered.

Daria was also shocked at what a beautiful young woman Miley was becoming. Miley was already much prettier than she was, and seemingly growing more and more beautiful by the day. If she kept this up, there would be no stopping what she could do in the world!

But still, Daria knew that with beauty came a price. She was careful to caution Miley against the distraction of boys and keep her mind focused on her studies. Daria knew that Miley really looked up to her, and she paid close attention to anything Daria said, following her advice to a T.

Their father had left when they were in single digits, and their mother worked fulltime, so in a sense, it kind of felt like Daria had raised her sister. It had certainly brought them closer together. Daria knew that no matter what happened in life, whatever college or career choices came their way, they would always have each other. And that was incredibly comforting.

Daria kept letting her mind go, thinking about all the wonderful times she and Miley had over the years and how incredibly proud of her she was. It was so nice and relaxing, and seemed to distract her almost completely from the frustration of her dream earlier.

It wasn’t long before Daria’s alarm finally went off and she sighed, knowing she would have to stop yet another wonderful train of thought to get out of bed and get ready for school.

As she climbed out of bed, she saw Miley stir. Daria took a moment to watch her sister wake up, just marveling at what an amazing, beautiful person she was.

Slowly, Miley turned over and opened her puffy eyes, her gaze settling on Daria.

Daria smiled.

“Hey,” Miley said, groggily.

“Hey, sis,” Daria smiled. “Sleep well?”

Miley nodded slowly. “Yeah, too well, I think,” she said. “It sucks to have to get up now.”

Daria chuckled. “I know what you mean.”

She held her sister’s gaze, smiling sweetly.

Miley smiled back, and Daria was once again so incredibly grateful for the connection they had together.

She sighed, resigning herself to the day. “Well… mind if I use the bathroom first?”

Miley slowly shook her head. “Go ahead,” she said in a slightly gravelly voice.

Daria turned and walked to the bathroom, and as she did, she felt something a little curious. She looked down at herself and her heart practically pounded out of her chest.

The entire crotch of her panties was completely damp and darkened with moisture!

She was mortified! She had just been standing right in front of her sister, carrying on a conversation!

Had Miley noticed? Oh God, that would have been horrible!

Daria tried to keep her cool as she walked into the bathroom and closed and locked the door. Then she fell back against the wall, staring at herself in the mirror, panting with shock.

She couldn’t believe it! It was SO OBVIOUS! There was no way Miley could have missed it. Oh God, what must she be THINKING?That I’d peed!That I’d… MASTURBATED!

Daria panicked as she reached over, spinning the roll of toilet paper, and tore off a bunch. She began wiping the front of her panties, but that did absolutely nothing. She then pulled the waistband of her panties away from her body and looked down. Her eyes widened in shock. There was a thick, gooey puddle of fluid on the crotch of her panties with several thick strands stretching up to her puffy, swollen pussy lips.

What the hell had happened to her? She quickly shoved the wadded toilet paper down into her panties and began soaking up the fluids, wiping herself as well. She pulled the wad back out and inspected it, scrunching her nose as she looked at the thick, creamy fluid coating the wad. She leaned her nose close to it and immediately pulled back, eyes wide. It was SO strong! She threw the toilet paper into the toilet and then sat down and started to pee.

As she peed, she looked down into the crotch of her panties that was staring right up at her from between her legs. It was absolutely soaked. She didn’t know how she’d be able to hide it from her sister. She would have to walk out of the bathroom eventually, and Miley would be walking in. Surely she would see it again! 

Daria contemplated pulling another pair of dirty panties out of the laundry and putting those on, but that would be just as suspicious, she thought. Miley would surely wonder why she had changed her panties before she’d even taken a shower. What was she going to do?

She decided she would just get in the shower and unlock the door so Miley could brush her teeth. It was the only way. They didn’t usually share the bathroom like this, being respectful of each other’s space. Even though they shared a room, the bathroom was always a private space where they would be alone. But this time Daria didn’t have a choice.

She finished peeing and wiped herself, then took off all her clothes and threw them in the hamper. Then she turned on the shower, unlocked the door, and stepped in the shower under the water.

“Hey!” Daria called out once she was in the shower. “Sorry, I just needed to get in the shower. I just felt really nasty for some reason…”

As soon as she said it, she realized she could have given herself away. She cursed herself, squeezing her eyes shut. “Um… So… you can go ahead and brush your teeth or whatever. The door’s unlocked!”

“Oh… okay!” Miley called out, her tone clearly acknowledging the unusualness of the situation.

A few seconds later, Daria heard the bathroom door open. She felt a strange sensation as her sister entered the room. Somehow, it felt like Miley was invading on her personal space and Daria was acutely aware of the nakedness of her body in the presence of her sister, even though the shower doors were heavily frosted. It was a strange sensation, but not entirely uncomfortable. Daria couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was definitely weird.

“Hey, um…” Miley began. “I’ve gotta pee… Is that okay?”

Daria realized she was trapped. She couldn’t deny her sister one of the body’s most basic urges, especially when she wasn’t doing anything to directly prevent her.

“Um, yeah! Sure,” she said, trying to be as casual as possible.

She was surprised at how shaken up her “underwear situation” had gotten her.

Daria heard the toilet lid go up and somehow it seemed magnified in the small room. The toilet was right next to the shower and no matter how much Daria tried, she found herself unable to ignore it.

Her eyes shifted over, and through the frosted glass, she could see the blurry form of her sister pull down her panties and sit down on the toilet. Something twitched inside of Daria – she didn’t know why. Why was she even looking that way? She turned her head away and tried to focus on washing herself, but a few seconds later, she began to hear Miley’s pee hitting the water.

Somehow the sound, just like the toilet lid, was magnified in her head and she couldn’t shake the image of her sister sitting on the toilet peeing. It was an image that had never entered her mind before and it was strangely unsettling. For the entire duration of Miley’s pee, Daria couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was weird, and twisted, she knew, so why was she doing it? She had no idea. Suddenly she realized her heart was pounding and her stomach was tying itself in knots. The only other time she had felt like that was…

No! Stop!Daria shook her head and pushed those thoughts away. What the hell was wrong with her? It must be all her nerves from freaking out about her panties earlier… and all the crazy things she had felt in her dream. They were playing all kinds of tricks on her and it was really weird and freaky.

Suddenly, Daria heard the toilet flush and she kept her eyes closed so she wouldn’t be tempted to look out through the frosted glass again and see her sister pull her underwear back up. It was a good thing she didn’t see her wiping, either, she thought. Wait, shit! Why am I thinking it now? Stop it, Daria, stop it!

A few seconds later, Miley had turned on the faucet and began washing her face and brushing her teeth. That, at least, was far less distracting.

Daria pushed everything out of her head, focusing on washing herself. She forced herself to think of all the things she had to get done that day and all the assignments that were coming up in her classes. That definitely distracted her and she was able to finish washing herself until Miley finally walked out of the bathroom and closed the door, leaving Daria alone in the bathroom.

 

After that incredibly strange morning, Daria seemed to have no problem getting back to what was really important – her studies. She was applying to colleges next year and had already started doing some preliminary research on it. It was so exhausting and time-consuming, it took up most of the afternoon. Daria went the whole rest of the day trying to forget, as much as possible, the strange events of that morning. That night, she actually made a point of NOT wishing for another dream like she had the previous night.

And she didn’t. The next day she woke up refreshed and ready to start the day anew. She was glad she had one less thing to worry about as she threw herself completely into her studies and college research.

The next day was just the same, only as she was doing her history homework, for an ever-so-brief moment, she found herself wanting to feel again like she felt in those dreams. It had been a while – well, only a few days – and she was starting to… want it again? She didn’t know. It did feel so incredible, she remembered. But it was also a terrible distraction. Maybe it was best she didn’t have those dreams anymore, after all.

 

And then… there she was, like a miracle, the girl of her dreams. All the incredible sensations came back to her, the heat, the buildup, the desire.

Daria was hot and flushed. She couldn’t help it. She wanted it. This time, she really wanted it. The girl created so much heat in her, so much life. And she was so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful. She stirred such incredible passions in Daria, she felt like anything was possible.

Daria felt her breathing increase. She couldn’t believe she was here with her again… She wanted her so badly, more than anything. She was flushed and hot, and her body tingled all over. The girl was so soft, so sensual, so feminine.

Daria felt herself tremble in the face of this girl’s exquisite beauty. The attraction between them was like nothing she’d ever felt. Somehow she knew the girl was feeling the exact same things she was. She could see it in her face, feel it in her heat, smell it emanating from her. They looked at each other, breathing deeply, knowing they both wanted it more than anything.

The girl reached out her soft, delicate hands to touch Daria, and Daria reached out to touch the girl’s soft, smooth skin. Warmth. Heat. Shudders ran up and down their bodies. Their breathing got hotter and heavier. They were close, so close.

Daria could feel the girl’s heat against her and it drove her wild. She could feel the girl’s hot breath on her face, her hot, wonderful, delicious breath. Daria breathed it in and shuddered. It was so sexy, so feminine.

There was an understanding between them, an attraction they felt deep inside their bodies. They both wanted it, to kiss. They both desperately wanted to feel their lips on each other. It would be so wonderful, so thrilling, so hot.

Daria leaned her face toward the girl’s and tilted it at an angle. The girl moved right with her, tilting her head in the opposite direction. They were breathing hot and heavy, right against each other’s mouths.

Daria could smell the girl’s scent – her body, her aroma, her breath. It was intoxicating beyond her wildest imagination. Somehow she knew – they both knew – this kiss would be more than just a kiss. It was the culmination of something, but she couldn’t tell what. Right then, she really didn’t care. She just wanted to kiss the girl. Feel her lips on hers. Get to the point she’d always longed for but had never been able to achieve.

Her body ached like never before. She trembled, her heart pounded, her sex throbbed. Then, she leaned forward, and their lips made contact, wonderful, glorious, intense contact.

The thrills and sensations that coursed through Daria’s body at that moment were unlike anything she had ever felt. It was powerfully intense and she found herself gasping desperately for breath. All her nerves were alive and throbbing with a fiery electricity that thrilled her. It was indescribable – so wonderful, so thrilling, and so powerful. She felt better than she ever had in her life. She felt her heart melt and felt intensely connected with this girl, more than she realized previously.

It was like a light bulb went on and she suddenly realized who it was. She’d known it all along, she realized, but now, with this kiss and this thrilling rush of sensations, the clarity of it was obvious. Daria felt another incredible rush course through her as she kissed her sister Miley, happy that she was giving her the same thrilling rush she was experiencing right then.

Daria’s eyes opened in a flash. She was gasping for breath. It was dark and she was still in her bed. Her body still tingled from the incredible intensity of the sensations she’d just experienced. For a second, all she felt was bliss – wonderful, thrilling bliss. And then in the next second, she recalled her dream, and the clarity of who the girl was hit her like a ton of bricks.

She had been thinking about Miley, her own sister, her OWN SISTER! What the hell was wrong with her? Daria’s stomach churned and she felt like she was going to be sick. But the sensations… they had felt so incredible… They were stronger and more intense this time than they’d ever been. What the hell was happening to her?

Daria was so confused. She buried her face in her pillow and tried to forget everything. But it wouldn’t go away. Images of Miley flashed through her mind – sitting in front of her, breathing heavily, hot, flushed, awakening those feelings in Daria all over again. Daria tossed around again in frustration. Was she going crazy?

Daria knew she had to relax. She lay still and took several deep breaths to calm herself down. She was smart. She could figure this out. There had to be a rational explanation for all this.

She ran through several possibilities in her head. Maybe Miley had, for some reason, just popped into her head at the last minute and the mystery girl hadn’t really been her at all. But the more Daria thought about that, the more she knew it wasn’t true.

Each time she thought about Miley being the mystery girl, she felt a knot of nausea in the pit of her stomach, but she also felt her heart thump harder and a thrilling twinge throughout the rest of her body that was eerily similar to the arousal she’d felt in the dream. She knew it was wrong to think about her sister that way, but somehow her body overrode that. She couldn’t control what she felt, and when she thought about the girl in her dreams being Miley, she felt an erotic rush.

What did this mean? Was she attracted to her little sister?? Daria thought about Miley and all the times they’d shared, all the things they’d done together. She felt so much love for her sister it was overwhelming.

And then, suddenly, she realized how close they were. They had been close their whole lives. Even when the option to get their own rooms came up, they decided to stay in the same room together because they were that happy being around each other. Miley was the one person in her life she loved more than anything. Could it be possible she loved her in a sexual way too?

Daria bit her lip and admitted to herself that her sister was extraordinarily beautiful. Sometimes she would just look at her and simply marvel that anyone could be so gorgeous. But even those times, she surely didn’t feel anything sexual toward her, did she? Were these dreams somehow expressing feelings she’d always felt but never wanted to confront? She remembered Freud’s theories on dreams, but that couldn’t be true, could it? Everyone agreed Freud was outdated. Right?

Daria let these thoughts play around in her head until her alarm went off again. She looked across the room and saw Miley begin to stir. Something inside her stomach churned and she realized she couldn’t deal with Miley right now. She couldn’t even look at her. It was too confusing. So she did the only thing she could think of and pretend to be asleep.

Daria lay completely still as she heard her sister slowly get up and turn off the alarm. She heard Miley climb out of bed and walk over to her own bed. A tingle rushed through her body. Then she felt Miley’s hand on her shoulder, her soft, gentle, feminine hand. Daria felt another thrill rush through her that she couldn’t ignore. It was wonderful and she hated herself for feeling it.

“Hey,” Miley whispered. “Time to get up.”

Daria just groaned, pretending to be asleep. “You go ahead,” she said, her eyes still closed. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

“’Kay,” Miley said, and walked off toward the bathroom, closing the door.

Daria snapped her eyes open.

What the hell am I going to do? I can’t avoid my sister like this forever. We live together. Hell, we live in the same room! 

She started to panic, not seeing any easy way out of this problem. Then she shook her head and told herself to focus. First things was first. She had to get out of bed.

Then she remembered what happened last time. Daria slid her hand down between her legs and felt her panties were thoroughly soaked. Her eyes popped open wide in surprise. Not only that, but her pussy was incredibly sensitive to the touch – more so than it had ever been.

She threw off her sheets and sat up. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and pulled them back. Her eyes widened as she saw that there was an even bigger puddle of fluid than there had been last time and it completely covered her crotch. She had to clean this up.

Daria stood up, perhaps a little too fast, as her head suddenly felt faint. Slowly, she regained her senses and ran to her drawer to grab a new pair of panties. She slowly began to pull the ones she had on down, pressing them tight against her body as she tried to wipe away all the fluids that covered her.

When she got to her pussy, wiping heavily across it, she gasped, her knees momentarily going weak. She couldn’t believe how sensitive she was down there! She pulled her panties all the way off, wadded them up, and continued to wipe the excess fluids that still coated her pussy. Then she tossed them into the hamper and put on a clean pair just as she heard the bathroom door open.

“Hey,” Miley said, stepping out into the room.

“H-hey…” Daria said, still terribly flustered.

Miley looked up at her sister, curiously.

“You okay?” she asked.

Daria was startled.

Did she suspect something?

“Uh… Y-yeah, it’s… It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Miley looked skeptical.

“You look a little… I dunno, startled or something.”

“Uh, no… No, I’m… I’m fine,” Daria stuttered. She knew Miley would never buy it. She thought quickly. “I just… I just had a… a bad dream, that’s all,” she said, praying Miley would be satisfied with that.

Miley just raised her eyebrows nonchalantly. “Oh,” she said, and walked back to her side of the room.

Daria breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well… I’m gonna pop in the shower, if that’s okay with you,” she said.

“Sure, go ahead,” Miley said.

Daria rushed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door, relieved to finally have some time and space to herself.

As she sat on the toilet peeing, she was surprised to find that she was actually catching her breath. What is wrong with me?She kept thinking over and over again.

When she finally climbed into the shower, she took a deep breath and tried to relax. Everything had been so hectic so far, it was nice to have some warm water cascading over her body and some time to think.

She was so surprised at how sensitive her private parts were, she knew there had to be a reason. Why was it so much more intense last night? She had never felt anything like it. It was so powerful, it was almost like… and then it hit her.

It was an orgasm.I just had my very first orgasm. 

That’s why it was so intense. It made perfect sense. Her mind spun at the realization. As she recalled the sensations she’d felt, she realized it had been the most incredible and powerful feeling she’d ever experienced.

And then her stomach flipped. The moment she had the orgasm was the moment she finally kissed the dream girl, and the moment she realized the dream girl was her sister. The idea of kissing her own sister had made her come for the very first time.

Daria’s mind spun even more. She didn’t know if she could handle how heavy all this was. She loved that sensation dearly, and desperately wanted to experience it again.

But she got it while thinking about her sister! And she had never come close to anything like it before in her life. Would she ever again? Was she doomed to link an orgasm with thoughts of her sister? Is that what she would have to think about if she ever wanted another one? What the hell was wrong with her?!

Daria was tired of thinking. She tried to shut her mind off as best she could and finish her shower.

There are more exciting revelations in Chapter 2

My Family, Friends and Sex chapter 28

  • Posted on May 23, 2018 at 8:41 am

by Purple Les

I slammed the Gandhi book closed. I knew it happened a long time ago but I started to cry. Mom came over and sat on the couch next to me and said, “What’s wrong?”

“He got killed! I mean I knew he’d been dead for a long long time. I didn’t know he died like that. He was shot to death! Why, Mom? Why do all the good people get murdered? It’s not fair!”

Mom put her arm around me and held me close.

“I know,” Mom said, “Sometimes when people don’t like an idea, like peace and love, someone can kill the person who’s idea it was but they can’t kill the idea. Try to remember that, Angel. There’s always a better way than violence.”

Mom held me till I was cried out. I couldn’t help but think a lot about it though. I was just a kid and yet I knew from history class and TV all the good people who’d been murdered.

Winter and spring were having a big fight. The snow on the ground kept getting lower till I could see shapes of things under the snow. I began to see the picnic table in our back yard though it was still covered in white snow but you could now tell it was there.

The road had become bare enough that I dared to get my bicycle out of the garage. It was a Monday. The air was cold but the sun was nice. Mom had decided to go to work for a few hours. We were off from school for a holiday.

I rode down the road to the Tran’s restaurant. They were really busy so I didn’t even bother to go in and visit Mary. I rode into town and stopped at the comic book store.

I bought a couple of new comic books and stuffed them under my shirts after I left the store for the ride home.

I saw a man outside. I’d never seen him around town before. He didn’t see me but I saw him bump into Mrs Links. I saw him talk to her to say he was sorry for bumping into her. As he talked I saw him take Mrs Links’s wallet out of her purse.

I saw Officer Sanchez going into the sheriff office. I ran over there fast as I could. I was all out of breath and started coughing but I told Officer Sanchez and Sheriff Johnson what I’d just seen.

Officer Sanchez was out the door like a bullet. Sheriff Johnson pulled on his coat and put his hat on and as he went out the door, he said, “You wait right here, Katy.”

I watched out the window. Mrs Link had already started walking home with a bag of groceries. Officer Sanchez had the man against a wall. He was yelling at her but she didn’t seem to pay any attention to him as she put handcuffs on him. Then he seemed to shut up all together when Sheriff Johnson got up to them.

All three of them came through the door a couple minutes later. He was a scary looking man. They took him out back to the cells. They came out after awhile.

“Dang, Sanchez.” Sheriff Johnson said, “I know I’ve seen him before. Pull out the posters will ya, and help me look through them.”

Officer Sanchez came back with a whole big stack of wanted posters like they have in the post office. They split them up and were looking thru them.

“Hey, Chief!” Sandie exclaimed, “Here he is!” She handed the poster over to Sheriff Johnson.

He read the poster aloud, “Frank Ketchum A.K.A. Frank Pastor wanted for…” Then the Sheriff started reading it more to himself and I couldn’t tell what he was saying. Then he handed the poster back to Sandie.

Something started to come in on their fax machine and Officer Sanchez said, “Here’s the reply for the prints we sent on him, Chief. He’s wanted all over. The State Police will pick him up here in a couple hours.”

Sheriff Johnson rumpled my hair and said, “You’re a real cracker jack kid, Katy. Sanchez, open up the safe and count out two hundred dollars and get the paper work in order.” Sheriff Johnson smiled at me and said, “Says there’s a cash reward for this man and you just earned it, Katy.”

Sandie handed me the money. I’d never seen so much money at once in my whole life. And it was mine. I was rich. They had me sign a paper and I looked at the money again. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. It was really happening.

I looked out the window and saw Mrs Links walking back into town. She must have got home and missed her wallet. It looked like she was walking back to the store to see if she had forgot her wallet there. I told the Sheriff and Sandie.

Sheriff Johnson shook his head sadly. “She didn’t have a dollar left in that wallet. Frank back there sure picked the wrong purse to go and get sent back to prison for. Poor woman, with her drunk husband and all those kids.”

I knew all about them. One of the Links kids was in my class. They were poor. I mean Mom was poor, but nothing like the Links family. I figured they could maybe use two hundred dollars more than I could. Maybe it would help them a little bit for a little while.

“Um, Sheriff, maybe you could give this reward to Mrs Links. You know, to help them out a little. I know they won’t take charity, maybe you could think of a way to tell her it’s hers somehow.”

Sheriff Johnson and Sandie stared at me.

“You sure you really want to do that, Katy?” The Sheriff asked.

“Yeah, as long as nobody knows I gave it to her. I mean you guys promise not to tell my mom or anyone I did that, and I’d be okay with it.”

Sheriff Johnson grabbed a tissue and blew his nose.

Then he said, “Sanchez, go take Mrs Links’ wallet to her and give her this reward money. Tell her she’s the one entitled to it. Explain most of what happened but leave Katy out of it.”

Sandie wiped something out of her eye and went running out the door. The Sheriff rumpled my hair again as I went out the door.

As I got on my bike I saw Sandie had met Mrs Links coming out of the store. Sandie was holding the wallet up and talking, then I saw Sandie hand Mrs Links the money. Mrs Links was crying and laughing and hugging Sandie, that made me feel kind of good.

I felt good till halfway home when the chain came off my bike. I did what Mom would do and swore at my bike for a few minutes. Then I made my hands all greasy trying to get it back on again. I couldn’t get it back on right and walked the bike the rest of the way home.

I put my bike in the garage. I wiped my greasy hands off on my pants and went in to the house. I had grease all over my face. I put my clothes in the hamper and took a bath.

After I finally scrubbed myself clean, I went to up to my bedroom. It was getting dark out and I decided to just put on my pajamas and bathrobe.

Mom was sitting on the couch when I came downstairs. I hadn’t even heard her come home. That wouldn’t have happened if we still had the pickup truck, but the car was real quiet.

I scrunched up next to her on the couch. She told me about her day at work. While she talked I opened up the locket she was wearing. Inside on one side was a tiny picture of Mom as a little kid with her mom, who was my Grandma. On the other side was a tiny picture of me as a little kid with Mom and Dad.

I closed it as Mom finished talking and she asked what I wanted for dinner. We finally decided we’d have breakfast for dinner. Mom would make pancakes.

“Do you remember what I’ve told you about my locket?” Mom asked me.

“Sure,” I answered. “Great Grandma gave it to Grandma who gave it you and someday when I’m a big girl you’ll give it to me.”

“That’s right, Angel.” Then Mom took off the locket and put it on me. “It’s yours now. Keep it safe in your jewelry box and just wear it on special occasions.”

I wore it all through dinner. When Mom came up to tuck me in I still had it on.

“Okay, Katy. You can’t sleep with it on.”

Mom helped me take it off and I got up and put it in my jewelry box.

“Why did you give it to me today, Mom?”

“Because I think you’re a big girl now, Angel. You know two hundred dollars would have bought you a lot of comic books or a new bike.”

“I liked how it made me feel inside to give it away. Dang it! I’ll never trust a grownup again. Sheriff Johnson and Sandie weren’t supposed to say anything to you or anyone about it.”

“They didn’t. I haven’t seen or talked to either one of them.”

“Then how’d you know?”

Mom kissed my head and tucked me in and said, “Mothers know everything their child does. Don’t ever forget that. Goodnight and sweet dreams, Angel.”

I fell asleep wondering how Moms can do that.

It was Wednesday. It was after school and after I’d put on my play clothes I filled up the bird feeder. I didn’t see something under the snow and it got caught on my leg and I tripped and fell. My ankle hurt so much Mom took me to the emergency care place near the next town. It wasn’t broken but real sprained. I had to stay off it for a few days.

Mom stayed home from work and I stayed home from school. Mary would drop off my homework for me on her way home from school and pick it up in the morning to take to Mrs Collins for me. It was the best part of the day, getting to spend a little bit of time with Mary.

To do something besides watch TV Mom got out the old guitar and played the song she knew. She sang along with it. The next day she taught me how to play the song.

Friday afternoon Mary dropped my homework off. I told her I’d be back to school on Monday. She gave me a big kiss and went on home.

Late Saturday morning Mom came back from the farmers’ market. Mom said, “Mrs Collins will be by in a little bit. She has a test you missed Friday.”

I’d taken a bath that morning and was wearing clean pajamas. I’d been mostly on the couch or Mom’s bed because of my ankle.

The doorbell rang and Mom let Mrs Collins in. Mom had the wood stove going and I didn’t have my robe or a blanket on cause it was so warm. I felt really funny when Mrs Collins walked in and I was laying on the couch in just my pajamas.

Well, I took the test laying there while Mrs Collins visited with my mom in the kitchen. When I was done I yelled out and Mrs Collins graded it while sitting on the coffee table right next to me.

“Seventy five percent, Katy.” Mrs Collins said as she handed the test back to me. She went over the ones I’d got wrong while Mom sat in the easy chair listening to us.

Mrs Collins said something but I’d been daydreaming. I felt so weird being there in front of Mrs Collins in just my pajamas. I didn’t want to have the tingles down there but they started to happen. I tried to think of things that were awful so the tingles would go away.

Then I heard Mom say, “Katy! Mrs Collins asked you a question. I’m sorry, Kay. She just goes off in a daydream sometimes.”

“Yes, I’ve seen it happen to her many times. Mostly during math,” Mrs Collins said.

“I’m sorry. What did you ask me?”

“I asked if you were still having those dreams about me,” Mrs Collins said.

Now I felt my face get hot and my hands felt cold. I looked away down the hallway.

“Answer her, Katy.” Mom said.

I looked towards the kitchen and said, “Um, yeah, I still have them.”

I saw Mrs Collins look at Mom. Mrs Collins took my hand and held it.

Mrs Collins said, “It’s all right. Look at me, Katy.”

I looked at her.

“I bet,” Mrs Collins said, “That if I were to kiss you for real your dreams about me would stop. If I kissed you right now I’m sure you’d break up laughing or be grossed out. Shall we try?”

I didn’t think either of those things would happen but I said, “Okay, we could try kissing.”

Mrs Collins slowly moved off the coffee table on to her knees next to me and gently pressed her hot soft lips against mine. She pulled her head back and gave me a pretty smile. Her brown eyes looked sparkly.

Now I really had the tingles down there.

“Maybe we should do it again,” I suggested.

She moved her head back down towards mine.

When our lips met I reached up and put my arms around her neck. I opened my mouth a little and soon our tongues were in each other’s mouths. We kissed forever it felt like.

Then she pulled her head back and said, “Are you okay? Should we stop?”

“I’m okay.” I answered, “It’s just so warm in here.”

“Perhaps I should help you be more comfortable first.” Mrs Collins spoke softly to me.

I just lay there and she moved her hands up under my pajama tops. I hoped we’d get sexy but I didn’t think it would really happen but now she was pulling my pajama bottoms down. I lifted my hips up and she pulled them down to my knees. She couldn’t see anything cause my tops came way down to my thighs. She very carefully took them the rest of the way off me and put them on the back of the couch.

Mrs Collins ran her hands up and down my legs a few times. I could feel her fingertips like they were electric on me.

She said, “Still warm, Katy?”

My mouth got all dry so I just nodded my head “Yes”. I couldn’t believe I’d just kissed my teacher and now I was half naked.

“Then maybe we should take your top off too. Is that okay?” Mrs Collins asked me.

I nodded “Yes” again.

She said, “Sit up for me.”

I sat up and watched her unbutton my top and slide it off me and put it with my pajama bottoms. Then she had me lay back down. It was hotter than my dreams. There I was bare naked for real in front of Mrs Collins.

She looked at me up and down and said, “What a perfect little girl. Just perfect. Shall we kiss again?”

I nodded “Yes” again and held my arms out to her.

She moved her lips against mine again and I felt even hotter than before. She pulled her head back after a minute.

She smiled at me.

“You are a wonderful kisser,” Mrs Collins said.

Then she looked away from me. She moved back on her knees a few inches and said, “Yes, so beautiful. I can’t think of anything in the world more beautiful than a mother and daughter nude together.”

I wondered what she was talking about. I turned my head some and Mom was standing by the couch. I guess while we’d been doing all that kissing Mom had taken off all her clothes. My heart was beating so hard I could hear it. Me and Mom were both bare naked in front of my teacher.

Mom moved over by Mrs Collins and helped her stand up. Mom gave Mrs Collins a big long kiss. It looked so hot I had to put my hand over my little bare pussy and touch myself a little bit.

“In your dreams, Katy, how does Mrs Collins look?” Mom asked me after they stopped kissing.

I stared at Mrs Collins and Mom. Seeing them like that, Mom naked and Mrs Collins with all her clothes on made me get wetter.

“Well,” I started, “In my dreams she’s always dressed like I see her in school. But then she gets naked. Except there’s always something blocking my view. I know she’s naked but I can’t see nothing.”

Mom put a hand on Mrs Collins boob and started to rub it and then Mom said, “Well, Kay, why don’t you let her see you nude for real. Maybe that’s what she needs to make the dreams about you stop.”

I had to start to rub my pussy as I watched my mom slowly undress my teacher. I had my little come as I saw Mom get on her knees and tug down Mrs Collins panties.

They both stood together naked looking at me.

Mrs Collins looked a lot like her daughter, Amy, except Mrs Collins boobs were bigger and hung down some. Her nipples were bigger too and real hard. Mrs Collins had a big triangle of hair over her pussy. It looked like she trimmed it. Her hips were bigger and more curvy than Amy’s.

“Carol, did she just have a come?” Mrs Collins asked my mom.

Mom was playing with Mrs Collins nipples.

“Yes, Kay. She came just watching us. The thing is though, Katy has a come, then she continues and has a bigger come. Kay? Would you like to give my little nine-year-old daughter her big come?”

Mrs Collins looked at me.

“May I, Katy? May I give you your big come now?”

My voice sounded more high and squeaky than normal.

“Yes, please make me come again, Mrs Collins.”

Mrs Collins sure took her time. She planted hot kisses all over my face and ears and neck. She moved the kisses slowly down my chest spending time on each of my nipples. She kissed my hips and tummy. Then she moved to my knees and thighs and slowly kissed her way up to my pussy.

First she just kissed my wet slit lightly and gently. Next she started to use her tongue on it.

Mom bent over and whispered something in Mrs Collins ear.

Mrs Collins lifted her head a moment and said, “Oh, really?”

Then Mrs Collins said to me, “Turn over on your tummy.”

After I turned over, Mrs Collins said, “I love your ass. Just a perfect ass, I love it.”

Then she put a couch pillow under my tummy and my butt was sticking up in the air.

I felt her lick my pussy before she put a finger up my tight little pussy hole. Then she began to lick my butt hole.

I was rubbing my clit against the pillow while she slowly moved her finger around in my pussy and quickly moved her tongue in and out of my asshole.

I put my face against the couch and yelled, “Oh, golly fuck! Don’t stop! I’m… coming!”

I moaned and sighed and laughed and wiggled and my toes went all numb.

It seemed like I came a long time. And after I’d stopped coming, Mrs Collins kept kissing my butt cheeks and legs and back.

Mom knelt down by Mrs Collins.

Mom said to me, “Turn back over on your back.”

Then she moved the pillow out from under me.

After I was on my back again Mom said to Mrs Collins, “Now kiss her pussy some more and then kiss me.”

Mrs Collins licked my pussy again for a few minutes and I had another little come. Then she kissed my mom.

They were both on their knees and as they kissed they pressed their tits together and grabbed each other’s ass.

They stopped kissing and moved back from each other a little and started rubbing each other’s pussy. They looked like they might come. Then all of a sudden Mom stopped. Mom got up and half knelt on the couch. She put her pussy over my face.

Mom said, “Show Mrs Collins what a good little pussy eater you are.”

Then Mom slowly lowered herself enough till I could start licking her. I licked her till she seemed like she might cum then she stood up and got back on her knees on the floor and kissed me on the mouth.

After Mom broke the kiss she said, “I just love tasting my pussy on my little Angel’s face. Now stand up, Kay. I want Katy to lick you now.”

Mom helped position Mrs Collins over my face.

Mrs Collins pussy came slowly toward my mouth. I loved looking at her pussy lips. They were all swollen and wet.

As they reached my mouth I started licking them. Mrs Collins bent forward some and I stuck two fingers in her pussy and sucked her clit. She cupped my pussy with her hand.

I heard Mom say, “It’s all right, Kay. Just go ahead and come right on Katy’s face. She loves it.”

And Mrs Collins did come right on my face.

After we all kind of got over our comes we sat around naked talking. The grownups reminded me this was a secret between us. Later Mrs Collins left and me and Mom just had the rest of the day kind of quiet.

When Mom tucked me in that night I wondered to myself if that was the end of my sex dreams about Mrs Collins.

I woke up in the morning having a sex dream about Mrs Collins and her daughter.

I told Mom about when I came downstairs.

Mom laughed and said, “Well, it was worth a try anyway.”

I said, “I’m glad it didn’t work. I liked the dream I had. But I really liked having sex with Mrs Collins. Mom? Do you think maybe someday it could happen for real?”

“Could what happen?”

“That I might have sex with Amy and her mom at the same time.”

Mom kissed my head and asked what I wanted for breakfast. She didn’t give me an answer.

More stories about Katy’s friends in Chapter 29

It’s Mother’s Day Again

  • Posted on May 13, 2018 at 9:33 am

Happy Mother’s Day!

Click to see more from Anonymous

My Family, Friends, and Sex – Chapter 27

  • Posted on May 12, 2018 at 9:51 am

by Purple Les

We drove to the farmer’s market fairly early Saturday morning in Mom’s new car. Well, it was almost 15 years old, but it was new to us. Mom seemed to be really enjoying the car.

Mom wore her stocking cap. It was cold as always. I think she wore the cap more ’cause she was shy about her new short haircut.

I walked around with Mom. She would look at the vendors’ vegetables or whatever and talk with them about it. Some would give us a sample of this or that.

I helped Mom bring stuff back to the car. We put it in the trunk. It was pretty cold, so we didn’t have to worry about anything spoiling.

Mom seemed to be feeling pretty good today. She wanted to look around some more. I’d had enough of walking around with her.

“Mom? I wanna go to the stores.”

She gave me a look. Then she sighed and said, “Meet me by the car in forty minutes. And don’t make me come looking for you, or you’ll walk home.”

I looked at the big clock in the church tower near by. I gave her a big hug and wandered over to the comic book store. As I walked over there, I liked looking at the people from the bigger towns acting like it was a big deal to be here at the market.

I walked around inside the comic book store. They didn’t have the new comics in yet. So I just looked around some. They had a part of the store that said Adults Only.

There are beads hanging all down over the doorway to that part. You would see guys go back there. Sometimes I would edge back that way. When I would get real close to it though, whoever was by the cash register would always say, “That’s not for you. Move back out here.”

I wondered what kind of comics were back there. Guess I’d never find out. So then I went over to Gunderson’s Antiques and Junk.

I opened the door to hear the jingly bells. I looked around for a while. I liked all the old stuff and the Gundersons were always nice to me. Most grownups would get mad if you opened and closed their door a lot to hear the bells ring, but Mr. and Mrs. Gunderson just laughed and talked with me.

I asked them the time and when they told me I said, “Golly, I got to run. ’Bye.”

I ran toward where the car was parked. As I got closer I looked at the time and slowed down. I had a whole five minutes to get there without being late.

I saw Mom leaning against the car. She was talking to two women. Their backs were to me. When I got closer and could see them from the side one of them looked sort of familiar.

Mom saw me and pulled me in front of her. She crossed her hands on the outside of my coat on my chest and I leaned against her.

The two women smiled at me. That was when I recognized Mrs. Collins. It wasn’t just because I didn’t expect to see her. She was dressed in a bright yellow winter coat and blue jeans and boots. She also wore a green, red, and yellow wool cap. Mrs. Collins didn’t look anything like she did in school. She looked… well, she looked hot.

I said “Hi, Mrs. Collins. I didn’t know it was you at first. You look nice. I mean you always look nice. You look different than at school, I mean.”

Mrs. Collins said, “Hi, Katy, I understand what you mean. Thank you. This is my youngest daughter, Amy.” She nodded toward the young woman next to her.

Amy looked beautiful. Almost like a movie star, she was that pretty. She wore a dark wool coat, blue jeans and a black beret. Her long reddish brown hair hung over her collar. She smiled at me and said “Hi.” The way she smiled made me like her right away.

Mrs. Collins was drinking a cup of coffee. I was watching the steam rise from it while the grownups chatted. I wasn’t paying too much attention at first.

Then Mrs. Collins said to my mom, “Well, Carol, I don’t understand why someone who’s been offered two scholarships would rather spend a year being in a production of Hair.”

“Mom! I’m eighteen. This might lead to something. It will be a great experience.” Amy said to Mrs Collins, sounding kind of flustered.

Mrs Collins gave Amy a dirty look. Then she snorted and said, “Carol, who would want to watch my daughter prance around naked on stage?”

“Golly, I sure would.” I put my hands over my mouth as soon as I’d said that. Then I said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

I could feel Mom’s nails digging through my winter coat into my shoulders.

Amy looked at Mrs Collins and said, “Is this what it’s really about, Mom? The brief nude scene? We don’t ‘prance around’ we stand still.”

Mrs Collins sipped her coffee and then said, “Well that’s part of it. But not all of it.”

“Mom, I can get in college anytime. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

My mom said, “It’s a very good musical. The nude scene is very tasteful. Sorry, I didn’t really mean to put my two cents in. I understand both your sides to this.”

Just at that moment the sky, which had been gray all week, opened up a little and some blue sky came through.

I started to clap my hands which couldn’t be heard because I had mittens on. I began to sing, “Let the sunshine, let the sunshine in, let the sunshine in.” I couldn’t help but shake my hips back and forth a little when I sang it.

Amy laughed and started to clap to keep time too, then we were both singing, “Let the sunshine, let the sunshine in, let the sunshine in.”

Then Mom joined in too, all three of us in the parking lot singing, “Let the sunshine, let the sunshine in, let the sunshine in.” Over and over.

Some people walked by us and dropped coins into Mrs Collins now empty coffee cup.

Mom and Amy stopped singing and started laughing. Even Mrs Collins was laughing now.

“That’s from ‘Hair’, Katy. Where did you pick that up from?” Amy asked me.

“It’s an album I’ve listened to.”

Mom added, “It’s the original cast recording.”

“I would love to hear that,” said Amy.

“Well, why not come over now and listen to it,” Mom said. She looked at Mrs Collins and said, “How about it, Kay? We just live up the road.”

Mrs Collins looked at Amy and said, “Sure. Why not.”

We got home and put away groceries. Shortly after that Mrs Collins and Amy pulled in the driveway. Mrs Collins had stopped to get donuts. Mom made tea.

Amy handed me her mother’s coffee cup and said, “Here, we figured you did the most to earn it.”

I dumped the sticky coins in the kitchen sink and rinsed them off. Two dollars and twenty cents.

“Mom, look! We should sing there every week.” The look Mom gave me showed I wouldn’t be singing at the farmer’s market anymore.

We all sat around the kitchen table. It was so weird to have my teacher at my house like a real person. I raised my hand once to say something and that got a laugh. I didn’t do it to be funny. It was just habit I guess.

I had a funny feeling inside me. The kind of feeling like something sexy was in the air. But I didn’t think anything would happen. I figured it was just because Mrs Collins was here in my house for real after all the sex dreams I’d had about her.

After a while Amy said, “Mom, do I have time to listen to the whole album?”

Mrs Collins said, “If Carol doesn’t have plans you can listen to it a few times if you want.”

My mom said, “That’s fine. I’ve got nothing going on. Katy, why don’t you take Amy up to your room and play the record for her.”

Amy followed me up the stairs to my bedroom. I’d forgot to close the door to my room that morning and all the heat from downstairs had gone up there. I told Amy to close the door behind her. For once it wasn’t freezing in my room.

Amy looked around.

I pulled the Hair album out of the one of the crates full of records and turned on the record player. It had two big speakers. I had them on either side of my room. When you sat on my bed you could hear them both. So I told Amy to sit on the bed. I sat next to her.

As we listened, I asked Amy, “In the play do you really get naked in front of everyone?”

Amy smiled at me, “Yes we do. I think it’s really beautiful and freeing. The song for that scene is coming up. Want to see me do it?”

“Um, sure, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. It’s good practice for me. On the stage we start out with our costumes on. Then a screen comes down. They show things on it while we keep singing and undress behind it. Then the screen comes up and we’re all nude.

“Since we can’t do that in your room, I’ll have you turn your back to me and then tell you to turn around again at the right time. Okay?”

“Sure.”

We both stood up.

Amy put the record arm to a certain spot and started singing along to the music. She has a real nice voice and pretty loud too. She sang some and then motioned for me with her hand to turn around.

I turned my back to her. While my back was turned I felt funny. It dawned on me that this was really going to happen. I was going to see an eighteen-year-old woman I’d just met bare-naked. Plus she was Mrs Collins’ daughter. My knees felt all weak.

Then I heard her say “Okay, Katy, turn and face me again.”

As soon as I turned there she was. Bare-naked and still singing to the record, I had to kneel on the floor cause my legs felt like rubber. She was curvy and thin but not skinny.

She had medium-sized boobies. Her nipples were smallish but not tiny. And they were all stiff. Her pubes were the same color as her hair, a dark reddish brown.

She stood still while she sang. Her legs are real nice. Long and lean. The song ended. She reached down to me and took my hands and pulled me up and sat me on the bed.

Amy bent over in front of the record player to start the album again. I think she bent over more than she needed to. That made me glad, ’cause I got a great look at her bare ass. I got a glimpse of her pussy too.

She came back and sat next to me on the bed. She explained to me what Hair was all about.

I liked listening to her. I tried to keep my eyes on her face but I couldn’t keep them from drifting down some before I remembered to look at her face again.

Amy said, “Katy, I don’t mind if you look at me. It’s normal for you to be curious about an older girl’s body. Have you ever seen anyone naked before?”

I knew I shouldn’t say too much. There were a lot of things I was supposed to keep secret. I thought there was a little I could say though.

“Um, well, I uh… will it be our secret?”

“Well, of course, it will just be between us. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“Well, sometimes I shower with my mom. So I’ve seen her naked. But seeing you naked is different. It feels neat, like when… I better not say, maybe.”

“It’s okay. I’d like to know though. I hope we’re friends. I mean I trust you enough to let you see me naked and keep it our secret.”

“Okay, well I have a friend. Sometimes we do stuff. Um, like kiss and hug. And sometimes we look at each other naked. It makes us feel funny and we touch ourselves. Sometimes we touch each other, um, you know, down there.”

“Oh, sure, I understand. I like to do that too with other girls. Is your friend your age?”

“No, she’s ten, a year older than me. I hope you don’t think I’m weird.”

“No, not at all. I think you’re a very sweet girl. So you like kissing?”

“Yeah.” I made no attempt to not stare right at her nipples now. My eyes were glued to her boobies.

“Would you like to touch them?” Amy asked me.

“Could I, please?”

“Sure.”

Amy didn’t tell me what to do or not do with her boobies and nipples. She just let me play with them anyway I wanted. I think she was pretty sure I’d never done anything like this even though I had.

I could see Amy was enjoying it. She seemed to like just watching me feel her boobies and nipples up. I guess maybe it felt nice to her also. The music stopped and she got up to flip the album over. I got another great look at her ass.

She stood in front of me. My eyes moved up and down her. Mostly though my eyes stopped at her pussy now.

“You can touch my hair down there if you’d like to.” Amy said. So I did. “What do you think of it, Katy?”

“It looks like it would feel wiry but it’s nice and soft.”

“I guess you and your friend don’t have any hair, down there?”

“No, we don’t.”

“Would you like to kiss me like you and your friend do?”

I nodded my head “Yes” and Amy lay down on her back on my bed.

“Just lay on top of me, Katy, and kiss me like you kiss your friend.”

So I did. I just kind of touched my lips to hers briefly at first, then kissed her a little bit more. I pressed my lips against hers longer and harder. Then finally I slowly opened my mouth more and more, till I could stick my tongue in her mouth.

Her one arm was around the top of my back hugging me. Amy’s other arm moved up and down my back. Each time it went down my back her hand came closer to my butt.

After we had been kissing for a while she touched my behind and then cupped my ass cheeks with her hand and squeezed them.

I couldn’t help but wiggle my hips around a little bit trying to grind myself against Amy a little. The music stopped and slowly we stopped kissing.

“Would you mind turning the album over again, Katy?”

“No, I don’t mind.” I said as I slowly got on my knees. I felt her boobies a little bit more as I put my feet on the floor. I turned the album over and turned around to face Amy again.

She was laying on her side now. She had one hand between her legs and her other hand had her head resting against it. I stood looking at her and Amy said, “You are so cute. Tell me, Katy, when you kiss your girlfriend do one of you stay dressed or do you both get naked?”

“Um, we both get naked.”

“Oh. Well should I get dressed? Or can I get you to take off your clothes too?”

“Um, I don’t mind getting undressed. If you promise not to laugh.”

“Why on earth would I laugh.”

“Cause I don’t have any pubes or boobs or nothing.”

“I think you’re a perfect looking little girl. I won’t laugh. In fact, there’s something about seeing a girl your age that’s special to me. I mean you don’t get to see kids nude. So it would be a real treat for me to see a cute girl like you without anything on.”

I could see Amy was starting to kind of play with herself. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Katy.”

“No, I want to. It gives me the tingles down there.”

I lifted a foot up and took a sock off then did the same with my other foot. I pulled my sweater off next and stood there looking at Amy.

“That’s a good start.” Amy said. “Now take off your t-shirt.”

So I did.

“Yeah, nice. I love your little nipples. You’ve got a nice tight bod, Katy.”

“Thanks. Um, now what?”

“Unbutton your jeans and pull down the zipper.”

So I did that too.

“Oh, I like your pretty blue panties.” Amy said. “Now take your jeans off and your panties too.”

I pushed them both down to my knees and then I got on the floor and took them the rest of the way off. I stood back up and let Amy look at me bare-naked.

“Can we kiss some more, Amy?”

“We sure can. Get back up here.”

Amy turned on her back again and I lay on top of her again and we started to kiss. This time when she grabbed my butt I melted against her. I let my legs slide off on either side of her and she quickly ran a finger up my slit before rubbing my ass again.

We kissed till the record ended. She had me flip it over and start it again.

As I flipped the record over, she said, “You have the most perfect little ass.”

When I got back on the bed she had turned on her side.

We kissed some more. As we kissed we felt each other up.

I mostly played with her boobs and nipples at first.

Amy said, “I just have to rub off.” She moved back a little and began to masturbate.

I loved watching her and I started to play with myself too.

When I moved my middle finger up inside my pussy, Amy let out a moan. I could smell her pussy. She was getting real wet.

“Amy? Can we play with each other’s? You know, let me touch yours and you can play with mine. Okay?”

Amy took my hand and placed it on her pussy. She moved my hand on her and said, “Do it like that, okay?”

I said “Yeah, okay.”

After I was doing it for a little bit she put her hand on my bare pussy. She was very gentle but she touched me everywhere. I was getting close to having a come.

Amy started coming right at that moment. I came shortly after she did because she didn’t stop rubbing my pussy when she came. We both just lay there.

We kissed some more and laughed a little, ’cause now we shared a special secret. We stayed naked and listened to a couple more albums.

Amy suggested, “Maybe we can do this again sometime. Would you like that, Katy?”

“Yeah, I sure would.”

We finally got dressed and went downstairs. Amy used the bathroom and so did I when she was done.

Mrs Collins and Amy left after we’d sat around a little bit just chatting. Well, they chatted. I mostly just listened and daydreamed.

Then they left. I’d noticed that Mom was barefoot. I’d also seen that Mrs Collins shirt was buttoned up uneven. It had been normal before me and Amy had gone upstairs.

I snuggled next to Mom on the couch. Mom asked me what had happened up in my room and I told her everything. Mom seemed kind of horny. Her nipples were hard against her shirt and she kissed me a lot.

I asked her what she and Mrs Collins talked about.

“Well, Katy, it seems Mrs Collins and I are very much alike in some ways. It seems she has feelings like me and Aunt Billie and Grace Tran and your Aunt Sue.” Then Mom laughed a little. “And like Jean and Sandie.

“I can tell you, Angel, ’cause I know you won’t say anything. You see when Amy was ten she’d seen her big sisters having sex with each other. They were 14 and 17 at the time. They didn’t let her join in and she asked her mother about it. Amy really liked seeing them naked and having sex. Her mother understood and explained to Amy that her sisters were older.

“Kay, that’s Mrs Collins first name, Angel, told Amy if she wanted to she would show her anything she wanted to know about what her big sisters were doing.”

I unbuttoned Mom’s blue jeans and pulled her zipper down.

“So Kay took Amy into her bedroom. Kay told her about what kinds of things girls like to do with each other. Kay found out Amy was already masturbating.”

I pushed my hand down under Mom’s panties. She was real wet and I started to play with her pussy.

“So, uh, Kay, uh. Where was I, Katy?”

“Mrs Collins found out Amy knew how to masturbate already.”

“Yes, so well they, uh, Kay taught her how to kiss. Amy wanted for them to kiss naked like her big sisters did with each other. So, uh, Kay and Amy got naked together, and, uh, the rest is history so to speak, and uh. Oh! Shit! Katy, that feels good.”

“What else happened down here while I was upstairs?”

“Kay did this foot massage thing on me. She made me cum just by touching my foot in a certain spot. I couldn’t believe how good it was. Don’t stop, Katy. I think I’m… ”

Mom put her hand over her pants where my hand was on the inside of her pants. She pressed my hand down harder on her and pushed her pussy against my hand more. Then I felt her come.

Mom panted some and kissed me. We just sat for a little while and then Mom started to French kiss me. Next thing I knew she’d pulled my clothes off and started to lick my pussy.

I was really enjoying her mouth on me. I wanted it to last longer but when she rubbed a finger around my butt hole I couldn’t hold back and had my big come.

It wasn’t even dinner time yet and we’d had a lot of sex. After dinner Mom got out her laptop and we got in Mom’s bed naked together and read stories at Juicy Secrets. We read some of the new chapters of stuff together. We did that till we got so horny again we watched each other rub off. Mom let me sleep with her that night.

I woke up first on Sunday morning and looked at her sleep for a while. Then I went to the bathroom. I went to the kitchen next and had juice and made coffee for Mom.

We had a nice lazy Sunday with lots of sex thrown in. I wished it could be like that every day.

Continue on to Chapter 28

Revolutionettes, Chapter 18

  • Posted on May 6, 2018 at 9:47 am

By Amanda

Neither Sandra nor I had drunk so much that we felt unwell the next morning. I led my love down the stairs and into the dining room, and over the next hour the rest of the women found their way there for breakfast. It was all quite informal.

Many of my guests were suffering from the night before, and I knew Josette’s remedy was nearly useless. However, Charity offered to make something to help them all, and her remedy was both fast and effective.

By noon everyone was cheery and ready for the final night of the party. I toured the house, making small talk as I did, finally stopping when I found the Madame Le Granade sitting in my library reading.

“Madame,” I said as I entered.

She marked her page and closed the book. “Hardly matters if I keep my place,” she said, looking at the tome. “Force of habit really.”

“I’ll leave it as an open invitation for your return,” I offered. Annabelle smiled at me.

“I wanted to thank you for greeting Charity.”

“The Negress?” she shrugged. “What’s the use of having all this influence if I can’t do something noble once in a while.”

Annabelle invited me to sit next to her, and I did.

“I once believed in slavery, and remaining loyal to the Crown,” she said. “I looked down on the common people, the poor, the Negros, the Orientals. I thought them all beneath me. Then, after the Revolution, I occasioned to speak with people other than just those of my own class and station. I found them charming in their determination and diligence. In the time since the Revolution I have come to believe that there is no one truly beneath me, only those less fortunate. I have seen people of standing lose their wealth, their homes, everything they had, and come to realize that it is only through chance or by the grace of God that I have held onto mine.”

“Words of wisdom,” I said with a smile.

“And I learned too late in life, I fear, to undo those things I’ve done that I now would consider immoral. At my age, you are keenly aware that the grave is ever approaching. It makes you look back on your life with different eyes. You are fortunate indeed that you had such wisdom so young.”

“I was orphaned. I dare say it is only the greatest fortune that I did not live my life as a simple maid, and in time a poor wife. Were it not for me meeting one particular girl, who was living in the home of a good man, my fate might have been… I shudder to think.”

“There but for the grace of God…” Annabelle repeated quietly.

“You believe in God?” I asked.

“I am a very bad Catholic. Which is no surprise, I was born here in Paris after all. I don’t know if I believe in everything the Church teaches, but I do think there is a deity.  Don’t you?”

“Not really,” I answered bluntly. “But don’t you worry about judgement?”

“‘Course I do, girl,” she laughed. “If the priests are right, I’ll be damned. I’ve not gone to confession in twenty years, and have committed such sins with women and girls that if I confessed them I would be excommunicated. But I don’t truly believe in damnation. It seems too cruel for a God who is supposed to love us so very much.”

“I suppose it’s the doctrine of hell that made me stop believing,” I said.

“Not to worry. We’ll likely cross paths in hell, if there is such a thing, and we can debate it there,” she quipped.

I couldn’t help laughing. Annabelle was stern and distant most of the time. She exuded an air of nobility in her normal comings and goings. But I, and perhaps a few others, were privileged once in a while to see a lighter side of her. For me, it was when she and I were alone as we were now.

“I have come to develop a great fondness for you, Elizabeth Jordan,” she said. “Were I thirty years younger, I’d give that pretty little maid you’ve taken up with a fight she would not soon forget.”

“What about the pretty maid you keep?”

“No, she is much too young. And to be honest, I do not even know if she is of like mind to us,” Annabelle replied.

After a moment’s pause, I said, “I have a question I’ve not found an answer to for years.”

Annabelle raised her eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“What is the word for women like us? We say ‘of like mind’, and I call us tom boys and ladies, but do we have a proper word?”

“The English call us Sapphists, I think. I have read of women like us being known as Tribades and Lesbians, the latter being a reference, I believe, to Sappho’s place of origin.”

“I have heard of Sappho,” I said. “So, there have been women like us since ancient times?”

“I’m certain of it,” Annabelle nodded.

“But what is it that makes us like this?” I asked.

She seemed to contemplate the question a time, then said, “There are those who say we suffer some madness, and others who see it as willful wickedness. But I prefer to think we were created this way for some purpose… though in all my years, I’ve not been able to imagine what that might be.”

“If that were true, it would seem that for some of us the purpose is to be damned to a life of permanent melancholy.”

“Well, at least you alleviated that for some of us,” Annabelle said with a smile. “Now, I think you’ve entertained this old crone far too long. Go and mingle with your guests before you’re missed.”

Taking her advice, I set about spending time with as many of the other women as I could find. I kept Sandra on my arm. I do not know how many people knew of my arrangement with the girl, but I wanted to be near her as much as I could for fear that I might never see her again after this party.

Eventually we found ourselves in the courtyard where Josephine and Penelope were flirting in a corner.

“Mistress,” Sandra said as we approached them.

Josephine turned toward us. “Aren’t we cozy,” she teased. “You make a lovely couple.” She pulled Penelope close to her. “This little girl tells me she’s a virgin,” Josephine grinned.

“Does she?” I said, trying to contain my mirth.

“Oh, that it were true,” Josephine laughed. She looked at Penelope. “Come, child, you do have the look of experience.”

“Is it my age?” Penelope asked. “Do I seem too old to be a virgin?” Then she sighed, “I don’t know why I bother. It’s not as if anyone would pass up the chance to bed me.”

“Indeed,” Josephine agreed. “And since you broached the subject…”

“Penelope,” I interjected, “perhaps this once you should resist your baser urges. I’ve no doubt someone else would be happy to indulge you.”

“Nonsense, darling,” Josephine protested. “Come now, even I can behave myself once in a while.” She tightened her grip on the girl. “I promise I won’t break her. Now if you will excuse us.” She began walking away with Penelope, then stopped before Sandra, looking her in the eye.

“Sandra, dear, would you like to join us?” Josephine was teasing me.

“I mustn’t, mistress,” Sandra curtseyed.

“That’s not a no.” I told Sandra. She looked at me with fear in her eyes. “I’ll not stop you.”

I pulled her close for a moment. “Would it be easier if I ordered you to go with them?” I asked.

Sandra was silent for what seemed quite a time before she curtseyed low. “I’m sorry, miss, I’m truly sorry. It is not for me to indulge myself.”

“Then allow me.” I pushed her toward Josephine hard enough that my former mistress had to catch her. Sandra couldn’t bring herself to state what she wanted, but to me it was obvious enough.

I watched the three of them return to the house. If Sandra chose to stay with me, then this would be the last time she would ever be able to make love to her mistress.

Back inside, I caught up to Catherine and somehow coaxed her up to my room. There I lay on my bed. She was watching me with a knowing smile, but it certainly did not seem like she was tempted.

“Alice says that I probably will never see her again,” I began. I patted the bed next to me and with a chuckle Catherine came and sat down. “Do you think you’ll ever return to France?” I asked.

“Of course not. Eliza and Alice have a daughter, as do I. I can hardly believe that we were able to be here at all. Besides, a ship really is no place for a woman. It would please me to never again have to set foot upon one.” She sighed, “Come along, dear, we should go back to the parlor.”

I reached out and stroked her arm. “Catherine, in all these years the only thing I’ve regretted is you not having me.”

“I, it’s, you’re like a daughter,” she said. “It isn’t that you aren’t beautiful or tempting, but… I don’t think I could.”

“Kiss me,” I begged. “Touch me, and if you still don’t think you can, then I’ll accept it.”

I sat up and drew close to her. I pressed my lips to hers and we kissed, perhaps more passionately than we ever had before. I took her hand and placed it on my breast, giving her permission to undress me.

Catherine pushed me down to the bed and opened my dress. She caressed my bare flesh, causing me to shudder. I could feel the blood rushing to my sex and the tingle in my belly.

She took my nipple in her mouth and suckled gently. Catherine pushed my dress the rest of the way open until I lay fully naked before her. She ran her hand along my flanks, and I couldn’t help but draw a deep breath and smile up at her.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” I whispered.

Catherine’s fingers played in circles on my belly. I was trembling at her touch. I reached out to began undoing the buttons of her shirt, but she stopped me. I lay back down and she removed her shirt, then her breeches.

“Are you pleased?” she asked me.

I had never seen her completely naked. She had seen me in various states of undress many times, but this was the first time I’d ever seen Catherine undressed.

“I am.”

She leaned down and kissed me while running her hand over my mound and into my soft pubic hair. Her hand had only just folded down to brush against my sex when she stopped and sat back, covering her face.

“Oh god Liz, I’m sorry,” she said. “I may be many things, dear girl, but you truly are my first daughter and I cannot do this.”

I sat up. “Catherine, look at me. I’m a woman. I know I’m still comely, and I’m ready for you.” As I said this, I took her hand and guided it back between my thighs.

“See for yourself how ready.” I pressed her fingers into my folds and let her feel my wetness.

“Oh Liz, you tempt me, but this is wrong.” Again she tried to pull away, but I would not let her.

“Is it?” I said, before finally letting go of her hand. “Then go.”

She did not move.

“Catherine, I want this. I’ve always wanted this.”

She looked into my eyes for some time. She seemed unsure, something I was not accustomed to seeing in her.

”I’m so sorry Liz,” she finally said. She stood and begin to dress. I sighed and began putting my underclothing back on, but I decided I’d not bother with trying to get back into my dress.

“I do love you, child, but not like this.” She smiled at me. “I’m a lech, but not a cad.” She pulled me close and kissed my forehead. “You are the one pure love I’ve ever had. To me you’ll always be that untainted wide-eyed girl I first met in my tavern. Let me keep that… stay my daughter, Liz.”

Disappointed, I agreed, and we returned to the party with me on her arm. I did not care that all the women there would assume she’d taken me. I rather liked the idea to be honest.

“Be still my heart.” Josephine’s voice came from the main stair.

Catherine and I turned to see her coming down with Penelope and Sandra in tow. I held my hand out and Sandra hurried to me. I pulled her close and kissed her.

“Two of my favorite girls together,” said Josephine. “Was she all I remember, Catherine?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Catherine responded.

“No!” Josephine gasped. “Are you losing your touch?”

“I’m afraid that I would be the one losing my touch,” I admitted. Josephine gave me a confused look. “It’s true, mistress.”

“What is the world coming to?” she laughed. “Well, all the same.” She waved her hand. “Is dinner soon?”

“In about an hour,” I told her.

I had told everyone that there would be a show that night. During dinner the women speculated wildly about what it might be, but I and my co-conspirators would not reveal anything.

When the meal was done, we retired to the parlor and drank absinthe. Josephine provided us with the hemp she smoked, and we passed the next few hours quite dazed and drunk. At last the clock struck ten, and I led the ladies to my second floor where I had laid out pillows much as I had done the year before.

Once everyone was gathered, Annette entered and stood before the makeshift bed. I departed and found Virginia waiting below at the foot of the stair in her nun’s habit.

“Keep the coif and veil on,” I instructed.

She looked nervous but nodded.

“Will you be alright?” I asked.

“Yes, I will.”

She drew a deep breath, and we ascended the stair and entered my second floor ball room, as it were.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I began as we stepped into view.

All of the women turned to us. Many appeared quite shocked seeing Virginia dressed in a habit.

“Tonight, our lovely Virginia, a virtuous nun” — there were titters of laughter — “will be violated before your very eyes.”

I led her over to Annette.

“Mind you, my friends,” I said, “this is no costume. This girl you see before you is indeed truly a nun, having taken her vows and committed her life to the church.”

“It’s true,” Virginia affirmed. Several women seemed taken aback.

I handed the girl to Annette who began kissing her. They lowered slowly down onto the pillows, caressing one another and kissing as they did.

First Virginia removed her lover’s dress, and soon after Annette began removing the nun’s habit, but Virginia was careful not to allow her headdress or crucifix to be taken off. Beneath she wore black stockings and garters, but nothing else, and these Annette left in place.

“Come, my child,” Virginia urged, in a stage whisper. “Show your devotion to the blessed virgin.”

Several women gasped at this.

Virginia pulled Annette to her breast, and her lover kissed and suckled, moving ever downward until at last she had reached the nun’s spread legs. Annette hesitated a moment before nearly falling forward and lapping at her sex. Virginia moaned and rocked her hips. She ran her fingers through Annette’s hair as the woman drove her fingers deep inside the girl.

The coif was nearly dislodged from Virginia’s head when she threw it back and cried out in ecstasy. Annette held her firmly, suckling her clitoris while the nun convulsed.

Virginia fell back onto the pillows, trying to catch her breath. Annette gently adjusted her head covering, then coaxed her to sit up. She kissed the girl, and they reclined, threading their legs together, each pressing her sex against that of the other. I’d never seen such a thing and was quite fascinated. They were moving in concert with one another, moaning as they did. They moved faster and faster, grunting and gasping until at last Annette and then Virginia each had reached climax.

They lay a time, recovering and caressing, before Virginia rose to her knees and crossed herself. “May the Lord bless and keep you,” she intoned.

This was almost too much for the ladies and they began cheering wildly.

I was quite pleased with it all. I called for Josette and had her escort my guests back to the parlor and provide them with champagne.

Myself, Annette, and Virginia lagged behind, waiting to make a grand entrance. Annette put on her underclothing, while Virginia remained only in her coif and veil.

“Thank you,” I said to them.

“All too happy to be a part of it,” Virginia laughed.

“Shall we meet your audience?” I asked, and they nodded their heads.

We made our way to the parlor where I announced them again to the cheers of my guests. “A toast to my lovely friends,” I said, “who entertained us so generously.”

The women raised their glasses and we drank. I began blowing out candles, not all of them but enough that the room was soon filled with shadow.

I found Sandra and took her to my side, then said to my guests, “I thank you all for coming, ladies. I hope you are all highly excited by the scandal and bawdiness of my party. Please, take your lover in your arms and enjoy this last night we have together.”

To encourage them, I pulled Sandra close and kissed her deeply. She sighed in my arms and almost seemed to melt into me. I wasted no time in removing her dress and then my own underclothes. We lay upon the floor kissing as we did.

Around us, women began to embrace one another. Unlike my first party, it took very little persuading to get them all undressed and making love.

“I wonder,” I said to Sandra as we lay gently caressing, “if this will be our last night together…”

She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me deeply when I spoke. It was no answer, no real hint, but I preferred not to think about the future at that moment.

Sandra reached between my thighs and pushed her fingers into my sex. “Use me for your pleasure, mistress,” she said, and then she was once again whispering her nearly incoherent mantras as she passionately kissed my body and worked to excite my loins.

When her mouth covered my sex and she drove her tongue between my folds I shuddered. Sandra was an expert lover in every sense. As she lapped at me and suckled my most sensitive places, she hummed a lullaby. The reverberations of it sent waves of pleasure through my body. She had never done anything like this before, and the ecstasy of it robbed me of any strength.

Without thinking about it I had raised my knees and was rocking with her tender attentions. The fire of my climax built within my belly and burst from me in shattering waves, and all the while Sandra continued her humming.

When I was fully spent, Sandra crawled to lay beside me. “Penelope taught me that,” she explained. “I’d no notion such a thing could be done.”

I returned the devilish kiss, humming the very same lullaby as she. As I did, Sandra moaned and writhed such that I had to wrap my arms about her thighs to maintain my hold on her. In a sudden movement she curled forward taking my head in her hands, and then fell back arching herself and nearly screaming. I’d never seen her react so. Then, to my utter shock my chin was dowsed in moisture.

With Sandra catching her breath I moved to lay behind her, spooning. Around us some of the women still made love, while others had long since sated one another. In time they all began to retire, and with that Sandra and I sought the privacy of our room.

In bed we pulled close to one another. She lay her head against my breast and I held her, stroking her back as I stared at the ceiling above. “Reste avec moi… mon cher.”

“Forever yours,” she murmured. I only understood part of what she’d said. She was very sleepy, and I was not certain she was even aware of what she was saying. I did not even want to dare the hope, for fear it would be dashed.

When morning came, I served my guests breakfast. Afterward I found myself bidding farewell to them in turn. Among the last to leave was the Madame. I had a driver prepared to take Josephine, Catherine, Eliza, and Alice to their hotel. They had booked a return passage on the same ship they’d arrived on, and it would take them days to get back to it.

Eliza and Alice were the first to say their goodbyes. Alice and I wept in each other’s arms. I wished I could promise her I would find my way back to the United States, but I knew that such a thing was almost impossible. And of course I knew that they would never return here.

They were followed by Catherine. There was no end of tears as we were both certain that this would be our final goodbye. I held Catherine such a long time, not wanting her to go. She was my oldest, dearest, most beloved friend. As I stood holding her, enjoying the matronly embrace, I realized that I was relieved we had not made love. She was a mother to me, and that is how it always should be.

At long last I managed to bring myself to let her go. When we stepped apart, Sandra took my arm and pulled close to me. She was trembling, and I think perhaps I might have been too.

Josephine then stood before us, smiling. “Well, Liz, there is only the matter of Sandra.”

I nodded my head.

“Come along, girl, it is time to go,” Josephine ordered. “I think you’ve shamed me enough.”

Sandra released my arm and I felt my knees go weak. She approached Josephine, her head bowed. Her steps were hesitant and once she reached her mistress she fell to her knees, taking the hem of Josephine’s dress in her hands.

“Forgive me, mistress,” she sobbed. “Please forgive me.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks. For everything else, for all my love, she was Josephine’s. The chains binding her would never be broken.

Josephine knelt down and pulled the girl to her. They whispered a moment before Josephine stood, tugging her dress from Sandra’s hands.

“Rise,” she ordered and Sandra obeyed. Josephine then approached me, her smile not fading. She came so close I found myself fighting not to shrink from her. My former mistress looked me over, studying my face. After a moment, she stepped back and took Sandra’s arm, pulling her close.

“Sandra, tell her your decision.”


 

Scroll down for the conclusion of Revolutionettes

I am not an extraordinary woman, but I have had an extraordinary life, mostly due to much good fortune being heaped upon me, and a helping of gall that served me well more often than not.

My life continued on like this for many years. I saw many old and new faces in my tavern and held my yearly parties, always striving to make each one more awful than the year before. Of course, it was all in fun. My parties were meant to allow us to run wild and unrestrained. To let us have for those three days the freedom we never had in the outside world, and the debauchery we engaged in was meant to draw that out.

But as the years go by, one finds she attends more funerals than parties and that too much correspondence arrives in black-edged envelopes. The first was Annabelle La Granade, who passed two years after Sandra made her decision. She was attended by only her family and myself, as she had specifically called for me. In accordance with her wishes, her son continued to supply my tavern, though not at the prices his mother had given me.

Six years later, Catherine died of tuberculosis. Her daughter later married and is raising two sons I hear. Her daughter kept Charity in the home they had shared, and cared for her for the last four years of the former slave’s life. From all accounts, Elizabeth had loved Charity as a second mother. Though I must assume she had no idea of what their true relationship had been.

Virginia was, as she had predicted, found out by the Church, and I kept my promise to her. She worked in my tavern and lived in the house above for many years before I simply gave it all to her. She and Annette remain as close as ever to this day, though Annette’s health is failing and age is taking its toll as well on the former nun.

On occasion I still visit the Velvet Pony. It is more for nostalgia’s sake than anything else. The faces have all changed, but the old tavern remains a meeting place for women seeking one another’s company. I hear tell of salons and cafes which cater only to our kind, and have even visited one such place. I once believed women like us were an exceedingly rare breed. In my later years, though, I have come to think that perhaps we are not so rare as I’d previously thought.

Some years ago, Josephine took in a young girl of seventeen who had run away to escape marriage. Sadly for us all, her father found the girl and exposed Josephine. A male relative, one Marcus Wellerby, used the opportunity to steal Josephine’s wealth and have her committed to an asylum where she would spend the last eight years of her life.

As I have said, many of my friends have been taken from me. For some I know their fate, for others I do not. Josephine, however, is the only woman I know who was placed in an asylum after being discovered. Though I hear rumors of others, I have never confirmed any of them. I think the only reason her fate was so unthinkable was the extremity with which she lived. Had she and the girl simply been sweethearts, I do not think the results would have been so bad. After all, I think the father might not have imagined what was really happening. But he must have discovered something awful, because Josephine’s exploits became known. He did not simply take his daughter back, he exposed Josephine and publicly shamed her. A mistake for him, I suppose, as his name and his daughter’s were printed and his family humiliated. He lost his business, and from what I hear the daughter soon took her own life.

I traveled to New York to try and secure Josephine’s release, but failed to do so. I begged Mr. Wellerby to retrieve her and turn her over to me, but he was a beastly man, devoid of any compassion or kindness. I went so far as to offer a bribe, but I simply hadn’t enough money to interest him.

I am ashamed to admit that I even offered my body. I told him that just like Josephine I desired only women, and that men’s hands had never touched me. I told him that if he brought her to me, he would be the first. I would stay a month with him, and in that time he could do with me whatever pleased him.

I find it a source of embarrassment to admit to such a thing, and more so that he declined. Of course, I would never have upheld my end of the bargain, but I also knew that no matter what I could not have escaped unsoiled by his touch.

I do not know what animosity he held for her, but I believe the man truly hated Josephine and wanted to hurt her. Perhaps the only solace I could take is that Josephine was well cared for in the asylum, and her accommodations were the best one could hope for under such circumstances.

I found Temperance still serving in that house, and took the girl back to Paris with me. She said nothing of the man who’d taken her mistress from her. In truth, when I asked of him she would shrink and tremble. I take that as proof enough that he abused her.

In all the years I’ve known her since, she never spoke of her time with him, and seeing the distress it caused her, I never pressed. But from time to time I reminded her that should she ever wish it, I would hear her story.

She serves as a maid in my home to this day. However, I fear she will mourn the loss of her mistress to her grave. I do not think I will ever really understand why those girls, Temperance and Sandra, so loved Josephine, but they did indeed love her. I suppose for my part I do not think Josephine was wicked or intentionally cruel. But I think she was not a good woman either. Whether she meant it that way or not, what she did amounted to wickedness and cruelty. I do not think she had ever given a thought to what would become of her maids if something happened to her.

After Josephine’s death, I received a trunk that contained her personal effects, and fourteen volumes of what I can only call her diaries. They proved a most fascinating and terrible read. They did not significantly change my opinion of her, but they did allow me to understand her better.

Eliza died five years ago, and dear Alice followed her to the grave a few months later, from a broken heart they say. I learned this when a guitar arrived for me at my home. I recognized it right away as the lyre-style guitar the girl had so often played. I hardly needed an explanation, though, as it came along with a black-edged envelope.

We had continued writing each other until just before she passed. A month after I had received the guitar, a letter arrived. I recognized Alice’s hand on the envelope and when I opened the letter it read only, ‘I’m so alone.’ It must have been delayed or perhaps found and sent on once she was gone, but seeing it after knowing she was dead sent a chill down my spine.

Angelique and Jezebel lived for years in Paris, but they left some time ago and I have no idea where they are now or if they are even still alive. My last meeting with them, however, found them deliriously happy together and I should hope that they have remained that way.

Monique disappeared with a Dutch girl. I have heard conflicting rumors about her perhaps living in Amsterdam, but no one seems to know anything for certain. It is a necessity that we keep our secrets. But this also often means that dear friends or lovers may be lost forever. Even posing as widows or spinsters we were subject to men and their whims. And we mustn’t risk discovery no matter the cost. Josephine is proof enough of that, I think.

I ferried slaves out of the south for years. Catherine’s daughter, Elizabeth, continued her mother’s efforts with the blessing of her husband. But in time I was no longer able to keep up with the many demands of such a pursuit while also trying to appear as a legitimate shipping company. Finally I sold my ships to Elizabeth and now live in retirement from the wealth I was able to build over my life. I am proud that I was a part of the early abolitionist movement, even at such a distance. I may never see it, but I do hope a day will come that sees no slavery anywhere in the world.

I have no heir. All my worldly goods will belong to France when I die. Save, that is, what I have hidden away for Temperance and Josette. It should be enough for them to live a comfortable enough life on. It is my hope that they will remain at one another’s side. I do not think they were ever lovers, but they have always been close.

Neither Sandra nor Josephine told me what they whispered to each other that day in my entry hall. But in the end, Sandra chose to remain with me. We lived together, in love, never leaving one another’s side for twenty-six years, until two years ago when I lay my beloved Sandra to rest. Some nights the emptiness of my bed denies me even the slightest hint of sleep. I did not know I could love someone so deeply, nor miss them so dearly as I do Sandra.

In the years after she left her mistress, she slowly began to shed her chains. Sandra would always remain submissive to me, but she would, in time, stop calling me miss or mistress. And submissive though she was, she learned to speak her mind, and to make known her will in matters. I think men expect we women to be submissive. And having had such a woman at my side I understand the appeal. But as Sandra slowly began to act as my equal, I was much happier. I cared for her happiness greatly, so fulfilling it became much easier and more complete as she learned to express her wants and wishes.

When she died, her hand was in mine and our closest friends stood watch with me. Much as Maddy had, she died peacefully in her sleep. Her last words to me were simply, ‘Thank you, Liz.’ I like to believe she meant for taking her from Josephine, but her true intent I suppose I will never know.

Sandra had left instructions that she wished to be buried in her uniform, a uniform that had hung in my wardrobe for twenty years unused. It was worn and threadbare, but thanks to my skills with needle and thread I made it presentable for a funeral. As I worked on it, I found in a pocket three copper coins which I did not immediately recognize as pennies from the United States. They were old and seemed to have been worried over so much that most of the markings were missing. I nearly tossed them out when it occurred to me that she surely had carried them for a very long time. Thus I decided I would return them to the pocket so she could be interred with them.

I have left out much of my story. Nearly all of the troubles I faced in my life I have said nothing of. But troubles were many. I’ve seen so many dear friends snatched away. Forced to marry, or being married and discovered by their husbands, then made prisoners in their homes. Penelope was discovered by a husband we did not know she had, and beaten so badly that she nearly died. He then threw her out onto the streets and whatever has become of her I do not know. What I do know, I only know because after it happened she stayed with me three months. Then one morning I awoke to find that she and several expensive gold trinkets had gone missing in the night. She was a desperate girl with no prospects. I do not begrudge her the theft, and would consider it worth the small loss just to know if she was well. I suppose I hope most that she did not end up in a brothel. Even another husband would be better than that.

Out of respect for the families of those women I have known, I have in this telling used false names or forgone surnames. My own name is not what I have called it, because I am known in Paris, and my servants and associates would suffer shame if I were exposed. Only Josephine’s name is unchanged, as her exploits were known, and if it brings more shame on the man who committed her that this be known, then all the better.

I do not care about my fortune, nor if my name goes down in history. But what I do wish is for these pages to find their way into the hands of other Sapphists, or Lesbians, or whatever it is we are called. I want them to know what we did here so that we will never be forgotten. So that, though small it may be, it will be seen that we did leave our mark on history. That even beneath the boot heel of men, we found some happiness.

Fin

My Family, Friends, and Sex – Chapter 26

  • Posted on May 1, 2018 at 10:44 am

by Purple Les

After Aunt Billie had come on my face, we got ready for bed. Aunt Billie tucked me in and listened to my prayers and blessings.

I was the first one up Sunday morning. Aunt Billie was asleep on the couch and Mom’s bedroom door was closed. I poured juice for myself. Then I started a pot of coffee for Mom and Aunt Billie. I sat at the kitchen table and drank my juice and read the Gandhi book.

Aunt Billie got up, said “Good morning” to me, and went into the bathroom.

When she came back she poured herself some coffee and sat at the table with me. I asked her what was up with her and Mom.

“Where do you guys go? What do you do?”

Aunt Billie sipped some coffee and stared at me. “I wish I could tell you,” she said. “Your mother still has me sworn to secrecy. You make good coffee, Katy.”

“Thanks. What about you and Pam? Did you guys do more than kiss?”

“Not much more than kiss. Well, okay, I let her see and play with my tits. That was about it. I’d have liked to do more, but I had to get her home. I didn’t want to go too far with her. Besides, it sounded like you gave her plenty of comes yesterday.”

I felt my face get warm as I said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Aunt Billie had a second cup of coffee. She took a cup into Mom. She came back a little later with the cup still half full. Mom slept most of the day.

I made a late lunch of scrambled eggs and mashed potatoes for all of us after Mom got up. Later Mom told Aunt Billie to go on home. She would be okay.

I didn’t dare ask Mom what they did. I just behaved myself. I went up to my room after awhile and read and listened to records. I got ready for bed and Mom tucked me in.

Monday was just a regular day except Mom didn’t go to work that day. I liked her being home when I got home from school.

When I got home after school on Tuesday she was home again. She’d been to the hairdressers. Mom had got her hair cut real super short. It took me awhile to get used to. I’d never seen her with short hair. I guess I stared a lot at it, getting used to her new look.

After dinner I said, “I guess I like it short, Mom. It makes you look younger and cool.”

Mom smiled at that and kissed my head when she got up from the table.

Wednesday when I got home Mom said, “Let’s go out to eat, okay?”

Well, I was okay with that, for sure.

Mom said, “The diner, or the Tran’s restaurant, or the pizza place?” Those were all the places to eat.

I voted for the Tran’s. I liked the food and I’d get to visit with Mary. When we drove by though, it was real busy, so we went to the diner. Mom wore a stocking cap. She didn’t take it off all evening.

I ate all my dinner. Mom got a to-go box for all the food she didn’t finish. We went out to the truck to head home. Mom turned the key in the ignition. Total silence.

Mom sighed. She looked at me and said as she patted my leg, “Maybe we’ll be walking home.”

There was a light tap on Mom’s window. We looked and there was Jed Johnson. He was around Mom’s age and no relation to Sheriff Johnson. Mom rolled down her window.

Well, this had happened so many times before I knew what they’d say to each other. He’d offer Mom five thousand dollars for the pickup truck as is. Mom would say “How do you have five thousand dollars?”

Jed would say, “It’s easy for a single guy like to me to save money when he doesn’t spend it all on horse. I have you and your late husband to thank for that. Helping me get clean and all.”

I guessed maybe Jed had a horse at one time and not having to feed and house it any more saved him lots of money. I’d rather be poor and have a horse.

As usual, Mom replied, “We were glad to help you. This truck meant a lot to my husband. I don’t think I could get rid of it.”

This was the part where Jed would say “Well, if you ever change your mind, Carol, call me.”

Instead he said, “Damn, I love this truck. It’s a classic, Carol. Tell you what. I’ll pay eight thousand cash plus I have a nice two-door car. Stick shift like you like, and it’s a solid good running car from this century. I’ll throw that in for nothing.”

Mom looked at him, then at me, then straight ahead out the windshield. She chewed her bottom lip and held the steering wheel with both hands. What she did next could not have surprised me more than her new haircut.

Mom stuck her hand out the window and said, “Okay, Jed. You’ve got a deal.”

Jed looked even more surprised than me. He shook Mom’s hand and said, “Well, all right! Damn, Carol, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Well, there is one condition, Jed.”

Jed looked a little worried and said, “Knew there was a catch.”

“Get the truck started for me so we can get home.”

Jed laughed. Then he walked over and lifted the hood. It was a good thing Mom had parked by the streetlight. I heard his voice say, to no one, “Damn, all original except this battery.” Then he swore under the hood for a little bit.

“Turn the key and give her some gas, Carol,” Jed yelled out.

The truck started up and after a moment he closed the hood. Jed came to the window and said, “How’s first thing in the morning?”

“That’s fine,” said Mom.

We drove off toward home. By the time we pulled in the driveway I was trying as hard as I could to hide that I was crying.

Mom backed in to the driveway, leaving the truck facing toward the road and shut it off. Mom put her hand on my shoulder and I looked away.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

“It’s our last ride ever in the pickup.” And now I was bawling like a stupid little kid.

Mom sounded sort of relieved and said, “Aw, Katy, I bet when Jed’s got her all restored, he’ll give us a ride to the car show in it.”

I turned toward Mom and buried my face in her chest and said, “It’s not the same.”

Mom patted my hair and said, “I know the car he’s giving us, Katy. It’s sweet. It has a sunroof and CD player. It’s got AC, power steering, and power windows. We’ll drive up lots of new good times in it. I’m going to miss the pickup more than you. I have to be practical, angel. Understand?”

I sniffled and nodded my head “Yes”.

“I understand, Mom. I know it’s just a truck. But I’ll miss her.”

Mom put her nose in my hair and said, “I know, angel. I know. I’ll miss her too.”

We sat in the driveway looking through the windshield at the stars. We talked about the good times we’d had in the truck. Then we were getting too cold to stay out in her any longer. We went in the house.

I curled up next to Mom on the couch. Mom twirled her finger in my hair. I thanked her for taking me out to dinner. Then Mom said a strange thing.

“Katy, I know you’ve seen DVD’s and pictures of your Dad. You’ve heard all the family stories about him. I was wondering though, what do you remember about him?”

I snuggled against Mom as I tried my best to remember Dad. I had been so little when he died.

“I don’t remember a real lot,” I started. “I remember he would get on his hands and knees and pretend to be a horse for me.”

Mom smiled and hugged me. “That’s right, angel. I’d forgotten that.”

I said, “I loved when he would rear up like a real horse for me. I remember he’d call me ‘Katy Bug’. I liked when the three of us would hike in the woods, and he’d carry me when I got tired. Mom? Did Dad used to play a guitar and you guys would sing?”

Mom hugged me hard. “Yes. Your father played. We would sing. He taught me how to play one song. It only had two and a half chords. And you would make funny noises while we sang.”

“Do you still have his guitar?”

“Yep. It’s under my bed.”

“Can you show it to me?”

“Sure, but not tonight. It’s getting late.”

“Mom, how come when I was bad he’d say I was your daughter? And now when I’m bad you say I’m just like my father?”

Mom said, “How ‘bout you go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll be up to tuck you in.”

I got up but started to protest. That got me a light smack on my behind and Mom’s usual, “Get going, Kathleen.”

Mom came up to tuck me in. She listened to my prayers and blessings.

When I was done she said, “Katy, that’s just kind of a thing parents do sometimes. You know, like when you’re bad I say you’re like your dad. The truth is your dad did do some stupid things sometimes. But you are a sweet kid. And that’s when you’re most like your father. He was a very nice man.

“When you hit that boy a few weeks ago, well, that’s when you were most like me. I hated to see the worst of me in you.” Then she kissed me goodnight and went downstairs.

The next morning I said a last goodbye to the pickup truck. Mary came walking up the road to meet me and we walked to the bus stop.

When we came back after school the pickup was gone and a new-to-us car was in the driveway. It was cold out but that didn’t stop me and Mary from walking all around the car checking it out.

The car was a dull jet black. Mary said, “It’s cool, like a gangsta car or something.”

Mom must have seen or heard us outside. She came out with her coat and boots on and said, “Hi girls. What do you say we go for a spin? We can drive you home, Mary.”

Mom unlocked the door without touching the car. I’d seen people do that. Mary was unimpressed since her parents’ cars were new. I thought it was totally awesome.

Me and Mary sat in the back. Mary said, “CD players are old fashioned, every car has blue tooth these days.”

I said, “Well a CD player is okay with me. The truck had something called an eight-track player that didn’t work. Now we can listen to something besides the radio.”

Mom drove up to the highway and we went a good stretch. Then Mom exited and came back to town from the other direction. We stopped at the Tran’s.

Mr and Mrs Tran came out to look at the car.

Mary said, “Mom, can me and Katy play in my room?”

“Yes, that’s fine. And take Lucy with you so I can visit with Carol.” Then she looked at my Mom. “Carol, you come have some soup while the girls play.”

Me, Mary and Lucy went up to the apartment over the restaurant where the Tran’s lived. We went right to Lucy and Mary’s bedroom. We all took our shoes off and jumped on Mary’s bed for a little bit.

Then we talked about the new car for a little bit. Then Mary said, “Hey, Katy, we have time to play, you wanna?”

I said, “Okay, sure.”

Mary got off the bed and reached up under her school skirt and pulled her panties down and off. I did the same but I did it laying on the bed. Mary hopped back on the bed next to me.

Mary said, “Lucy, you can watch but you have to get naked.” We both watched Lucy take off all her clothes. I just loved looking at her tight little body and plump hairless pussy. Then me and Mary began to kiss each other. Lucy jumped on the bed and pulled the back of our skirts up and felt up our behinds.

Mary put her hand on my bare pussy and I did the same to her. We began rubbing each other off. I was sucking Mary’s tongue. Mary had a finger in my pussy. So I did the same to her, wiggling my middle finger into her tight wet pussy hole.

Lucy was lightly spanking my bare ass.

I broke my kiss with Mary so I could turn my head and look at Lucy. With her right hand she was spanking me and her left hand was cupped over her pussy. She was giggling.

The door swung open and Mrs Tran came in and closed it behind her. “Katy, your Mom wants to get going soon so you girls better hurry up and come.”

“Then you better help out, Mom.” Mary calmly said.

Mrs Tran flipped Lucy on to her back and began licking her pussy. Mary got on top of me and we began to sixty nine. I could hear Lucy next to me.

“Yeah, Mommy!” Lucy squealed. “Having a good feel good.”

Mrs Tran said, “Mary, you sit on Katy’s face while I lick her pussy.” Mary started to rub her pussy back and forth on my mouth while I felt Mrs Tran lick my pussy.

Mary pressed her sex down on my mouth. I could taste her pussy goo and she started to moan out, “Yeah! I’m cumming.” as she fucked my face. I kept my tongue stuck out to help her.

Mrs Tran was doing a good job on my pussy and I came hard in her mouth.

Mrs Tran didn’t let us hardly catch our breath.

She sent me across the hall to the bathroom where I washed my hands and face. I came back to the bedroom and Lucy was dressed and Mary lay comfortably on her bed. I put my shoes on.

I reached for my panties. Mrs Tran said, “No time for that.” I got a fast goodbye kiss in with Mary, and Mrs Tran took me by the hand downstairs.

Mom had an empty soup bowl in front of her and was drinking tea.

“Okay, thanks, Grace.” Mom said as she got up and put her coat on. I put on my coat.

Out in the car Mom said, “So, did you have fun?” I sat in the front seat and played with the radio.

Mom didn’t wait for an answer. She pulled out of the parking lot. Even though it had started to snow Mom opened up the sunroof. We were freezing but we left it open all the way home.

Mom pulled in the driveway and she was actually happy. She pressed the button for the sunroof and we watched it close. Then we went in the house.

Mom made me some dinner. While I ate, the phone rang.

Mom picked it up and said, “Hi, Grace. Thanks again for the soup, it really hit the spot.”

Mom listened then and finally said, “Yeah, well I had a feeling since you were up there so long. Yeah… that would be nice sometime. Huh? Yeah, I guess Jean and Siobhan could join all of us now. Okay, Grace, you too, bye,” and Mom hung the phone up.

Me and Mom cleaned up the kitchen and went to the living room.

Then we sat on the couch. “You were listening to me on the phone. What do you think, Katy? Would you like that, me and you and Siobhan and her mom and Mary and her mom and little sister, all of us having fun together with no clothes on?”

Just the thought of it was making me breath hard. “Yeah, Mom, that would be awesome, but we’d have a girl too many.”

“Maybe Aunt Billie could join us too.” Mom said.

“That’s a great idea. When, Mom?”

“Oh, sometime when it all works out for everyone’s schedule I guess.”

Mom put her hand on my thigh. She moved her hand up under my skirt. Her finger touched my bare pussy and she smiled.

“So you did have fun in Mary’s room, huh?” Mom asked me.

I didn’t mean to giggle but I did. “Yeah. I guess did.”

“Want some more fun, angel?”

“Okay.”

Mom lifted my skirt up. She lay me on my back on the couch and began to kiss and lick my pussy. She licked my butt hole also. Then she worked my pussy with her tongue till I couldn’t hardly stand it. I had my second come, my big come, and then I just lay there while she kissed my thighs and then my face and mouth.

After I rested awhile I asked Mom if she wanted me to lick her now.

Mom held me a long time before she sighed and said, “Thanks, not tonight, Angel. Time to get ready for bed.”

When Mom tucked me in I said, “Me and Mary are sure lucky to have moms like you and Mrs Tran.”

“Well, I guess me and Grace are pretty lucky too.” Mom kissed me and went downstairs.

Friday went by fast. The only thing special about it was on the way to school Mary handed me my panties from the other day when I was in her room.

“My mom washed them, Katy. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind helping you get them all sticky again.” Mary laughed after she said that, but she gave me a fast kiss on the mouth.

I felt funny having my panties in my school bag all day. Well, I didn’t have them all day. After lunch Mary took me aside. She looked around. We were in a spot nobody went to.

Mary lifted her skirt up. I was looking at her bare pussy.

Mary innocently said, “Oh, I guess I forgot to put my panties on this morning. Could I please borrow the ones I gave you this morning?”

Without saying anything, ’cause my mouth was hanging open, I reached in my book bag and gave her the panties. Mary slipped them on like it was the most common thing to do.

Seeing Mary’s pussy right in school like that gave me dirty thoughts all day. Then to top it all off, when she walked me home after school she… Well, she took the panties back off, right in my driveway.

“Thanks for loaning these to me today.” Mary said as she handed my panties back to me. Then she kissed me and made sure I moved my hands under her skirt to feel her bare ass.

Then she said goodbye, and made sure to pull her skirt up high to give me a goodbye look at her pussy and ass as she left.

When I went to my room to put on my play clothes I had to masturbate. The thought of Mary not wearing any panties, seeing her bare ass and pussy briefly right outside in my driveway, I came trying to picture Mary walking around outside bare naked for me.

That night, me and Mom just went to bed early.

Saturday, me and Mom were both up early. We had breakfast. We took a shower together. That was fun. But we didn’t really do anything except wash each other’s backs and kiss some after we were dried off.

We headed off to the farmers’ market in Mom’s new car. She brought a CD and we were playing it on the way there.

What happened at the farmers’ market that morning was the weirdest coolest thing ever.

Continue on to Chapter 27

Schoolgirls

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

 

Click to see more from Anonymous

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

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

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