I LOVE YOUR FEET ... I'D LIKE TO KISS YOUR TOES ...
She bent low to make her whisper heard.
"Nikki? You like my feet?"
"Umm ... beautiful ... "
"And the sandals?"
"Nice. B-but I love your feet. I-I'd like to take off the sandals. Kiss your toes, your bare toes - mmm, such pretty toes - kiss and lick and suck ... "
Merle shivered and sat up again, her brain spinning feverishly, unable to cope with the enormity of this strange new pleasure.
Chapter 1
The woman in charge, the only adult at the all-girl party, hardly looked like a sorority housemother. Nor did she look much like a lesbian either, except perhaps for a certain indefinable aura that hinted darkly of having dabbled in a thousand-and-one nameless depravities-the erotic gamut of a sophisticate. It was an impression achieved without true beauty somehow, incongruously, and all the more striking an effect. Thus she added to the general excitement and yet aroused no envy among her Omega Pi brood of brats; no wonder they practically adored her.
As a lesbian housemother of long standing, Jolene Putnam had learned the value of discretion. In appearance, she kept herself as alluringly feminine as the dignity of her position allowed; why let the whole world know? Luckily, what beauty she possessed was of a type that seemed to improve with age. Nearing forty now, she had a face touched only lightly by time, the sharp features mellowing, illuminated by the halo of the passing years. Her dark brown hair still needed no drastic chemical assistance. Cunningly enhanced by waterproof makeup, her deep blue eyes glowed with a kind of luminous luster, conveying an innate sensuality. And her lipsticked lips, although too generously proportioned by any standards, nonetheless remained ever moist and mobile with promise-a twitch, a tremor, an unconscious tongue-tip glide, another telltale inference of unquenchable inner fires a-smoldering.
But it was her voluptuously fleshed body that exploited the theme and made Jolene Putnam such an impressive female. Just a shade less then plump, she was slung together and stacked with an earthy splendor. The slightest movement made her big breasts quiver and her broad hips sway, all the more noticeable by comparison with the undeveloped young bodies that sprouted anew each year. Sometimes even sadly noticeable, considering the advantages of youth; who could compete with such slim perfection? Not that she wasn't glad to see them, of course, a fresh phalanx coming over the horizon every autumn, all giggly and gushy and agog with hope, the little darlings-Omega Pi or die!-and growing up to become big darlings, naturally, a supply that just never dwindled. Like a perennially blooming crop of pretty flowers. Pretty perfume-flowers, the same essence from one year to the next. Essence of young cunt ...
Uh-huh. Even now the room was suffused with it. Jolene sniffed ecstatically, keeping a corner of her mind free and clear of the banalities of polite conversation. It was a bit of a bore, this Open House, with the kids in their best frocks and on their best behavior. Worse yet, it came too soon after rushing and pledging; the group hadn't begun to function smoothly enough. But school tradition demanded it, an annual open-house party hosted by each sorority, supposedly proving that the system wasn't really so snobbish after all. And this year, unfortunately, Omega Pi had gotten saddled with the first one of the opening semester.
Still, it wasn't going too badly, Jolene decided. The place was crowded but not unbearably so, just cozy, almost everybody on the move, circulating. And despite the decorous facade, the atmosphere seemed downright sexy for an all-girl affair, what with so many fervid young bodies in such friendly proximity. Or was that just her own imagination? Hard to tell. Sometimes she wondered if every kid in the school wasn't in on it, all sharing the same secret.
Funny about that. Aside from a few similar social gatherings, there wasn't even a pretense of intimate communication between the separate sororities. Once accepted, a girl simply stuck to her own tribe. So there was no way of knowing what really went on in the other houses. They were all self-governing, pretty much-local, not national-with no more than a benign semblance of supervision from the dean's office, concerned mainly with avoiding the opposite sex and the scandal of pregnancy. Which gave the poor housemother an awesome responsibility for her flock-and regardless of her own personal bias, Jolene's conscience was having its troubles these days. Oh sure, most of the brats were only compensating for their temporarily boyless existence, indulging in aberrant habits that would doubtless fade in later life. But did they have to be so shameless about it, so prurient even in perversion? And it was getting worse all the time, too-this year more than ever-did the whole darn Omega house have to run wild?
Jolene shuddered, casting a sidelong glance at the instigator, the primary reason for her troubled conscience. Uh-huh. With seats at a premium, leave it to Ardith to command and occupy the best in the house. The big armchair, of course, the one that slanted back and took up so much space.
She looked quite at home in it, too, entirely at ease, a center of attraction for the lesser mortals. Ardith of the honey blonde hair and milk white skin. Ardith Lorimer, pledge-mistress and chief pervert, the beautiful senior with the evil influence. Now she seemed to be emphasizing the slant of the chair, lounging back so steeply that her crossed knees were nearly at a level with her head. The contortion molded her body into a spectacular series of curves, each as provocative as the last-breasts awry, the slope of her belly, the uptilted thighs, the revelation of slender ankles and daintily shod feet beneath the hem of her gown, irresistible! Ah yes, an august personage, that one; who else could get away with such a devil-may-care attitude?
True, her elective rank implied authority only over the pledges, an already overwhelmed and obedient bunch. But many of the actives had fallen under her spell, some of them catering to her with a zeal that was well-nigh worshipful. Especially the inner circle, the ones who called themselves the Magpies. Like the girl with her now, bending down and whispering into her ear, a greasy-looking fat brunette named Ursula Baum. Whispering something obscene, no doubt, judging by the expression on Ardith's flushed face.
Shuddering again, Jolene tore her fascinated gaze away, aroused but even more keenly aware of her plight. Oh well, it would all be over soon, another few months and the nightmare would become a memory. Hmm. Too bad, in a way. Such a delicious nightmare at times! Things would certainly be dull without it. Dull but safe, thank heaven, ever so much safer ...
"You're such a bitch, Ursula. Absolutely cunt-crazy."
"I'm only crazy for your cunt."
"Cut it out, will you? Quit breathing down my neck, this isn't the time or the place for it. Our poor old housemother is liable to have a fit."
"Okay, okay. So what did you call me over for? I was about to make a conquest. Or at least the start of one. Ardith, you did have something on your mind, didn't you?"
"Uh-huh. An assignment for you."
"Oh? Do tell."
"One of the pledges. I want you to break her in."
"But-but I'm already working on-"
"Wait. Listen. Whoever else you're working on, hold off and do this kid first. Hilary Rourke. You know her?"
"Yeah. The redhead. Hmm ... "
"Ursula, what's the matter? Not interested?"
"Not very. She's no beauty. Besides, I've got my eye on Kay Sturdevant, you know the one I mean? Darkish blonde, page-boy style, a little on the skinny side."
"Kay Sturdevant. Kind of a boyish type, isn't she?"
"That's what turns me on about her. Real smart-ass, too-she won't be any pushover, I'm damn sure. But that's just what I need, a challenge to get me stirred up. Unless you think ... well ..."
"No objections. Work on her. But do this other one first, a quickie with Hilary, huh? She'll be easy. Just once, that's all, but make it rough on her with that big bush of yours-see how soft and submissive she turns out. I'll bet she fits right in, a Maggie from the word go. Okay?"
"Okay. Hey, you're pretty serious about this Maggie stuff, aren't you, Ardith? I thought maybe it was a gag. I mean, well, calling ourselves Magpies ... "
"Damn right I'm serious. Anyway, it's not new, that's how it used to be years ago when all the Omegas had a reputation for chattering a lot. Omega Pi sounds like Magpie, doesn't it? So that's what we ought to be now-the Magpies-only we'll do our chattering in private. Very private, you know?"
"I get it. Hot and sexy, huh? You always did like to talk dirty when I was sucking you off. Now you'll have us all doing it, right?"
"Hot and sexy and dirty, the dirtier the better. And that's not all, baby-just wait till you hear some of the ideas I've got, some of the wild kicks' I've been thinking about. Oh shit, once we get rolling, nothing's going to stop us."
"Nothing but our housemother."
"Not if I keep her softened up. That's why I need your help with the new kids, you and the other Magpies. I have to concentrate on Jolene a while longer. But it'll work out, you'll see. Pretty soon we'll be having midnight parties, dancing in the nude by candlelight, even an old-fashioned daisy chain maybe ..."
Once again Jolene sneaked a glance in that same direction, more irritated than ever by the sight. Now it was beautiful Ardith who seemed to be doing all the whispering, while that loathsome Ursula Baum creature listened avidly and licked her lips in apparent excitement. Jolene turned away in disgust, searching the room for some less painful focal point, anything interesting enough to catch her eye.
She found it only too easily, almost stunned by her breathless reaction to this new face. A suntanned face, extremely young; had she ever seen anything so lovely? Such a profile-so delicate, so sensitive. Tiny tilted nose and huge long-lashed eyes. Truly an angel, a divinity out of place here on earth. Why hadn't she noticed this charming child before?
Then the face swung toward her, a mild disappointment as she got a better view. A child, sure enough, a little girl with tousled red-blonde hair. Big brown eyes and smooth sun-browned skin, more like a frisky pussycat than a divine angel-and obviously from one of the other sororities, quite unfamiliar ... Cute, though, cute enough to be an Omega. But so young, so very young, almost too young even for this seminary for rich girls with its three-year curriculum and lax scholastic standards.
Somehow, unaccountably, Jolene became self-conscious all of a sudden, wondering if her steady but rather covert scrutiny could have been spotted and misinterpreted. She saw the pink lips quiver excitedly, the great liquid eyes inquisitive, coming to a focus too close for comfort. There must have been an instant of mutual recognition, then the kid's gaze sant away under drooping eyelids. But no, the shiny eyes were still focused, only lower now, much lower and terribly intent. Was it possible? Was that the reason for the agitated expression, the quivering lips?
She's looking at my body and it's making her sexy. The little rascal is hot for me!
A thrill of pleasure rippled Jolene's spine, spreading the heat of that half-lidded stare throughout her flesh, forcing it to surface like an all-over blush. Impossible as it seemed, the darling child was acting like an aroused lesbian. A kid like that belonged in the Omega house, just perfect for the secret inner circle, a gay little Magpie in the making. Anyway, it was sure something to think about, especially with that girl-fucky feeling inside herself, all tingly on top of her tits and down in her belly, fierce enough to explode her cunt like an unruly volcano. Oh, if only she could wrap her legs around that tousled head! Scratch her itchy clit with that cute little nose ...
An alarm bell went off in her brain, a warning that Jolene was suddenly glad to heed. How stupid to get all hot and bothered over a young one, a strange kid who probably didn't even know the score; why look for trouble? Nice as it was to be the object of such girlish admiration, she wasn't foolish enough to play along and risk blackening her good name. Nor did it even seem wise to remain within "cruising" distance now; better duck out and take a break-end of episode-let there be no misunderstanding this time.
With feigned composure, although somewhat shaky in the limbs, Jolene left the still-swirling party and trudged upstairs to her own private quarters-only to find out that the episode hadn't ended at all. Behind her came the persistent youngster, slim and buoyant and unheard on the carpeted steps-unheard and unsuspected until the frail figure materialized in the doorway like a wraith from out of nowhere. So the episode had merely undergone a shift of scenery, and she could only stand there in speechless shock as her door swung shut on the both of them.
"I-I followed you. I had to. You're so beautiful ... "
As much as the wistfully sincere compliment, the plaintive tone struck a responsive chord in Jolene's nature. She simply couldn't find it in her heart to hurt this sad-eyed bundle of sweetness. Quite the contrary, in fact-and she reached out impulsively and pulled the cherub close, cuddling her like a baby. And when those beseeching brown eyes peered up a moment later, she could only relent and bend to kiss the hopefully offered young cheek.
The kiss was given. Somehow, though, it didn't land in the right place; instead their lips met and merged softly. Which seemed right indeed after the initial contact, turning into a gentle exchange of affection. Just a token endearment, no more. Until, abruptly, it became something else again, something quite different. Jolene tried to break, free and voice her protest, only to feel the embrace tighten and the sound blocked by a ruthless mouth, slammed back into silence by a furiously thrusting tongue. Bent over and off balance, she knew enough to stop struggling then, pitting guile against guile and moving backward limply to sit on the bed. The strategy worked, giving her a little leeway as she plopped down with the kid sprawled on her lap, half on and half off.
"No! Stop that! Good grief, child, we're strangers, total strangers. I don't even know your name. Or what sorority you're in. It's not Omega Pi, I'm certain."
"Nope. No sorority, silly, I'm just visiting. My name is Ginger. And I know who you are, Jolene-you're my sister's lover. Unless she's a goddam liar. My sister Ardith?"
Utterly flabbergasted, Jolene took refuge in her inability to function, recalling vaguely that Ardith Lorimer did have a younger sister named Virginia. But they looked so different! Ardith with that milky white skin of hers-allergic to strong sunlight, of course, an indoor girl. And this one had probably spent the summer at the beach; no wonder the resemblance was remote. Damn! Only it was time to wake up and call a halt to this mess once and for all; even now the kid's hands were starting up again, scrounging around for something reserved for her sister and certainly out of bounds for children. Cocky little brat! What's she trying to do, fingerfuck me?
Anger welled up, stirring Jolene to action. In a blind rage, she seized the girl and shook her until the noise of rattling teeth came through. But it wasn't enough. And she flipped her into position and began walloping her backside, holding her pinned with one hand and smashing and again with the other.
There was no need to speak, no need for explanations-every whack of her palm carried the message. But it still wasn't enough, the punishment still didn't fit the crime. She wanted to hear the little monster howl and beg for mercy. And abruptly-as the impulse flashed-Jolene interrupted her labors for a hasty readjustment. The skirt went up and the panties came down. Then, all but chortling with glee, she resumed the spanking and was immediately aware of the great difference caused by so small a change.
Ah yes, this was much better-she could feel the bare flesh jiggle and squirm and flinch under her hand. And the skin was turning rosy pink, too, the narrow strip of white left by a bikini. There were appropriate sounds now, music to her ears-whimpers and yelps and a few genuine sobs popping out; wasn't it about time for a nice loud howl or two?
Mmm, the skin was soft. Her palm was beginning to smart, but she could feel a certain stimulation in the contact with that naked ass-flesh. Funny. It didn't make sense. This was supposed to be a punishment, nothing more-physical sadism had never meant much to her. And yet she had no desire to quit now, even though her anger was fading fast. Hmmm, it was almost a thrill ...
A thrill?
That did it, bringing on horror like an icy shower. With her hand in midair, Jolene ended the episode at last, shooing the well-spanked delinquent out in a hurry. The poor kid barely had a chance to hoist her panties up, stumbling to the doorway and pausing there to do the job-humiliated more than hurt, no doubt-an aggrieved grimace contorting her pretty features. As though she had already begun planning her revenge. Or the unfinished seduction of her sister's lesbian lover, more likely. Little pervert!
Chapter 2
Combing her page-boy locks at the mirror, Kay Sturdevant couldn't help but feel a certain sense of pride. In spite of her boyish look, neither of the other two girls had such natural beauty. Her hair was blonde, a bit on the dark side, an interesting complement for her hazel eyes and almost perfectly shaped unpainted pink lips. And although her body was too slender, more athletic than seductive, the firm flesh was nicely distributed over a well-formed bone structure. No, she didn't consider herself cheated by nature, especially since her sexual tendencies were also a trifle boyish. She was the type to appreciate femininity.
Anyway, her friends didn't have much to be envied. Her roommate Nikki Zane had light blonde hair and pretty violet-blue eyes, but her waist was too long and her legs kind of stubby, giving the impression of a low center of gravity. While the other one, Hilary Rourke-who roomed next door but came around often-had thick lips and a pug nose and should have dieted off at least ten pounds. Not that either of them were ugly, of course, or they wouldn't have made Omega Pi in the first place, all partners in commiseration at the moment.
"You're not alone," Nikki was saying, "I'm stuck with a job, too, and I don't even know who for. My name was on the bulletin board to report to the dining room."
"Oh, that's just general clean-up work." Hilary glanced at her wristwatch. "Me-I'm stuck with something more personal, I guess. Running errands, maybe. Something like that. You know." She fluffed out her red hair nervously.
"Who for?"
"Ursula Baum."
Kay made a face. "Ugh. You are stuck, kiddo."
"She's not so bad." Hilary's pale gray eyes turned almost pretty, lighting up in apparent anticipation. "Her bark is worse than her bite. I'd better get going though, or that might change all of a sudden-no use pressing my luck, huh?"
"I'm about due now, too. You ready?" Nikki rose and did a quick primp in the corner of the mirror. "Let's go. See you later, roomie. Hope everything comes out all right. If hell is tough, just smile and think of next year's heaven."
But smiling wasn't so easy for Kay after the others left, not with so much on her mind, Oh well, at least she would be making an honest effort to fit in-giving it the old college try, as it were-even though she had already recognized herself as a misfit. No doubt about it, the long months of pledge ship were bound to be hell. Only the heaven of the next two years made it worthwhile. And that was just a prospect, hardly a sure thing.
No, tough as it was, she couldn't let down. Right from her very first week at Sylvan Grove Seminary, she had set her sights on joining Omega Pi. It meant being a lowly pledge for an entire school year, of course, but then she in turn would be served by new pledges for the next two years. A fair deal all around. But could she last until then without blowing up? It was beginning to seem more dubious every day. All her life she had been in control of her own destiny pretty much-except as a small child, naturally, and even then she had acted bossy toward the household servants. And now, suddenly, the situation was beyond her grasp; as a sorority pledge, she was quite powerless.
It worried her. Most of the other kids had adjusted already, accepting their lowly status as a matter of course. And if she slipped and lost her temper even once, that would be the end of it, the end of her chance to fulfill her dream of going through school as a swinging lesbian in, the swing-ingest lesbian group. Life at Sylvan Grove wouldn't be much fun if she didn't make Omega Pi.
No sense brooding over it, though. Especially when the immediate cause of her despondency this pair of blue jeans she had on. Not the jeans, really, but what they represented-the standard costume for a pledge assigned to manual labor. And although she didn't resent working so much, the idea of being subservient to someone else's wishes was pretty exasperating.
As a matter of fact, she rather liked wearing jeans, especially this extra-tight pair-old and faded and shrunk to the contours of her body. Sometimes the snug-fitting crotch even gave her a kind of sexy thrill. Then too, they brought out the boyishness in her, a tendency to swagger that usually heightened her sense of power. But that was taboo this time, dammit, the jeans meant only that she had a job to do.
What job, she didn't know-cleaning a room, probably, the chore most often demanded of pledges. She had been ordered to dress in jeans and report to Diane Fordyce, a senior who had one of the private rooms. (Another reason for making Omega Pi, the capacious setup of the house itself-many of the seniors and even some of the juniors had rooms of their own; such luxury!) Anyway, swaggering was definitely a no-no, Kay figured, and on the way there she actually had to constrain herself just going through the hall.
Diane's door was ajar. Drawing a deep breath, Kay knocked once and walked in resolutely but with a deliberate air of meekness. Her first impression didn't help much-the room looked messy and so did its half-naked occupant. Then, just as swiftly, she was compelled to revise both appraisals and felt almost embarrassed about it, aware that her initial judgment had been biased. She had come here expecting to sweat over dust and grime, but the place seemed quite clean, even scrupulously tidy, except for the loose string and paper of some spread-out packages, evidently just unwrapped. And on closer and less prejudiced inspection, Diane Fordyce appeared no more than slightly disheveled-with good cause, too, since she was in the midst of pawing through the cardboard boxes and trying on new clothes.
"Hi, kid. You're right on time, huh?"
"Yes, ma'am. Reporting as ordered." Playing safe, Kay began an obeisant motion, something between a bow and a curtsy.
"Never mind that shit-relax, will you? There are some real slave drivers around this place, but I'm not one of them. You don't have to curtsy to me."
"Whew! Thanks. These pants of mine are so tight they'd probably split at the seams if I bent any lower."
"That I'd like to see." Then, smiling, "They're tight, sure enough. Kind of cute on you, too. But don't worry, I won't ask you to do any fancy bending-it's just not my kick, sweetie."
The smile was genuinely radiant, an expression that melted the last vestige of chill in Kay's heart. With newly oriented vision, she reassessed this senior sorority girl whose authority had been something to dread just a few minutes ago. Diane Fordyce was small and dainty, with light brown hair and eyes like dark velvet. Her skin had a pale loveliness, all the more exquisite in contrast with the lacy black lingerie she was trying on. But aside from all that, her casually avowed attitude was positively exhilarating, reason enough for Kay to do an about-face. Now that she didn't have to go through the grimly anticipated "lowly pledge" routine, a little menial labor seemed almost welcome.
"Thanks again, Diane. You're nice. Just let me know what I can do for you, hmm? Except for the wrappings and stuff, the room looks pretty neat. Do you want me to go over it anyway? Or maybe there's some special job ... "
"No, nothing at all. Hey, that's right, I did tell you to wear jeans. My room was a mess earlier, but it got cleaned up by a couple of kids who were caught goofing off on another assignment. Punishment, you know? Keeps 'em in line."
"Oh. So you don't need me for anything?"
"Not a thing, you lucky girl."
Kay suppressed a frown, truly sorry to be leaving this flowerlike creature, so deliciously feminine. Besides-and far more important!-she was already visualizing a possible solution to her problem right here in this room, the problem of getting through the year. There were no "big sisters" in the Omega Pi system of pledging, at least not officially, so any active could call upon any pledge just about anytime. But favorites were often decided on after a while-and if the decision was mutually acceptable to both the active and her favorite pledge, that made a difference. It was then announced to the other actives-again unofficially-and by custom the liaison was pretty much respected by all. Which meant that a kid so chosen would have only one real boss, one mistress to serve, and could be fairly certain of her duties from day to day. And what if the active was someone who didn't view the system as a kind of year-long substitute for slavery? Wouldn't it be great to become the favorite pledge, the so-called "personal attendant" of such a girl? Until now, that possibility had been too remote to even contemplate!
"Diane? Ma'am?"
"You can leave, honey. It's okay. Back to the ghetto."
"Well, as long as I'm here, uh, are you sure there's nothing I can do for you? How about all these new things you'll have to put on and then take off again? Couldn't you use a little-maid service? Not that I'm an expert ... "
"You really want to? What the hell, why not?" Then with a gesture toward the door, "Better lock up first, so we won't be interrupted in the middle of something that might look fishy. Just click the latch, that's it. And never mind the expert maid service, just give me a hand with this bra. I think it can be taken in a notch, don't you?"
Kay assisted enthusiastically, hopeful of making the most of this precious opportunity. Soon, however, her calculated maneuver veered from its original purpose, turning subterfuge to sincerity as she fussed over the daintily curved body with ever-increasing excitement. Once again she became acutely conscious of her tight jeans, feeling more boyish than ever now, even just a little bit possessive watching the lovely creature pose and pirouette in the frilly undergarments, practically putting on a show for her right there in the room. The locked room. Mmm, how, she wanted to reach out and grab and squeeze that softness ...
"Hey, what's with you? Kid? The way you're staring at me-eyes like glassy marbles-how come, huh?"
"You-you're so pretty. No. Beautiful."
"I'll be damned. Hmm. That's a compliment if ever I heard one. Take it easy, will you? Oh shit, you'll have me blushing in a minute."
"Oh! Forgive me. I'm just a pledge, I shouldn't have spoken out like that. I didn't mean to sound so fresh."
"You weren't fresh. Silly. I kind of liked it. But you'd better not get any foolish ideas about me, baby. The gay bit doesn't interest me much. Sure, maybe I play around once in a while, but it's only a substitute-I'm a man's woman through and through. Girls just don't turn me on."
Kay's face fell. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"
"Hey, don't look so sad. No harm done. Besides, dressed like that, you look more like a boy. Those pants! Turn around, let me see both sides."
"You-you want me to pose for you?"
"Sure, kid. Pose."
It felt almost natural. Kay postured provocatively, swaggering like a tough young hoodlum, now more anxious than ever to make a good impression. She wiggled her ass, drawing an audible gasp that was a compliment in itself. Then, facing front again, she slid both hands down to cup and fondle the taut bulge of her crotch, an unmistakable parody of a male jerk-off movement. Again, the gasp sounded, giving her added confidence; she felt horny now, not like a kid, not even a boy-a man, that was it, a man with cunt on his mind. Seduction. Or better yet, rape. A big brute of a man about to rape a young girl into submission. And such an alluring little girl ...
"Wow! No wonder it got me kind of steamed up when you said I was beautiful. A boy, just like a handsome boy. No wonder I thought you were going to kiss me, you know?"
That was all Kay needed. She pounced and pulled and then growled triumphantly as the moist lips yielded to her pressure. A moment later she was grinding her crotch-bulge against near-naked feminine flesh and jamming her indomitable tongue into a coyly protesting but nonetheless docile feminine mouth. Like a stand-up fuck! With plenty of feminine response, too-uninhibited now-she could feel the small body pulsating with passion.
"Oooh!" The kiss broke for air, "Lover, I've been fucked before but never like this." Then, a shrill screech, "Oh, do it to me, fuck me, fuck my cunt, fuck the shit out of me!"
It had the ring of a strident command, too much for Kay's newly emerged personality to endure. Nobody had the right to order a rapist around! She scooped the fragile bit of fluff up in her arms and bore it to the bed. Then, hurriedly, she got rid of the impeding lingerie, kicking away the debris at the same time, sending paper and boxes and even a few garments helter-skelter to the floor. And for a while-horizontal now, more comfortable but somehow less convincing-she went ahead with her rape of the cunt that had begged so hard to be raped. Her bulging crotch still felt pretty good, but the big thrill was fading fast-the conquest had already been accomplished. Time now to seek her own pleasure, something other than playing imitation stud and rubbing bellies. Especially with that cunt bare-naked and practically pounded to a pulp, awash in its own sweet juices; time to suck before it turned sour. And at last, with pardonable pride in her accomplishment, she slithered down in bed and filled her mouth with the fruit that would sustain her-hopefully!-through the coming year. While up above her the voice continued shrilly, no longer a command, just a loud but obviously disoriented wail:
"Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me ..."
Chapter 3
Lying in bed and chain-smoking cigarettes nervously, Jolene Putnam worried about her predicament and wondered if she could get through the rest of the school year without cracking up. Well, no, it wasn't that bad, there were no signs of an imminent breakdown; it was simply a matter of hanging on awhile longer. And of keeping a tight lid on the pressure cooker that the Omega Pi sorority house had become. Damn! How could she have gotten into such a fix? After all these years as a sane and sensible housemother, how could she have let herself get carried away like that?
True, even in her saner and more sensible days she had flirted with danger a little, seldom going very long without a lover. But she had always chosen wisely, always a rather discreet affair with one of the older girls-no strings, no commitments, no headaches-just a pleasant relationship with a nice compliant bed-partner. A senior like Sue Quigley, for instance, so sweet and submissive; how simple life had been in those days!
And yet, in a roundabout way, it was Sue's very submissiveness that had started the mess. Jolene remembered it only too well, an almost slavish nature that had intrigued her immensely, impelling her to demand more and more time together. Hardly an unhappy demand from the girl's viewpoint, of course. But it was the kind of situation that could attract attention and perhaps cause gossip, ample reason to seek some expedient measure, something to keep a housemother's reputation untarnished. A cover-up, as it turned out, a bit of camouflage in the person of one of the pledges. Purely for purposes of discretion then, Sue' cast around and found herself a "favorite"-getting involved just enough to divert suspicion from her real love. And soon, quite naturally, she brought her little youngster in to become better acquainted.
That was how it began. The first sight of the kid came as a devastating shock to Jolene. Somehow, busy with her own affairs, she had never actually noticed this particular pledge before, a leggy blonde with the palest skin and eyes like emeralds. Nor had she even dreamed that Sue's young friend would- be so beautiful. Ravishing, absolutely ravishing, that was Ardith Lorimer.
Afterward, late in the night, Jolene tossed and turned restlessly, visualizing that incomparable face and body. The doll-baby was taller and more fully developed than most freshmen, more nearly a woman-the kind of child who outgrows childhood in a hurry. It was hard to picture Ardith Lorimer ever having climbed trees or making mudpies or skipping rope. Or even wearing a playsuit. Pinafores, maybe, or pretty pink frocks with matching gloves-and sporting a parasol to protect that flawless milk white complexion of hers. Like some royal princess out of a bygone era.
Ah yes, a little princess. The impact was almost frightening really, and Jolene couldn't help but sniff new trouble brewing for herself. Just living in the same house might be unbearable; how could she brush against that remarkable creature daily without wanting more of her? What would she do, bite her lips and suffer, in silence? Even that would be a weird thrill but too much to cope with, driving her into an agony of frustration. Day in and day out, so near and yet so far; how could she carry on without exploding?
It was a dilemma, sure enough. Unless, well, unless she decided to do something along those lines, wondering if the elegant little princess might be the same as any other adolescent, a young girl whose curiosity about life was just awakening. A kid eager for mischief perhaps? Oh, it would have to be handled carefully-and without Sue's knowledge, much less her aid-but in this case the reward was even greater than the risk. That face, that beautiful face between my legs! Yes indeed, reason enough to go on thinking the unthinkable.
The notion took root in her mind, overwhelming in its erotic implications, and Jolene grew hot just mulling it over. Too hot to fall asleep. The nipples of her breasts were stiff and pointed and uncomfortably tense. A mere touch made them tingle under her fingertips, a sensation of swollen tits. She probed her cunt inquisitively and wasn't exactly surprised to find it wet. Hot and wet and primed for action, practically sizzling now-her hand had given up the inquisitive probing to move of its own accord wriggling around down there with a certain slick precision. That was pretty convenient, attending to her physical need while she closed her eyes and thought about the darling little sorority pledge and all those fascinating possibilities ...
After due consideration, Jolene's decision was to operate slowly and carefully, avoiding the hazards of haste. A pat here, a caress there, a peck on the cheek now and then-but always in a playful manner, a mood of merriment. All in the interests of good fellowship, making the kid feel like a welcome guest. Until the time when the caress and the peck would be expected, the rule rather than the exception. Perfect planning was the key to success. But somehow, incredibly, it didn't work out like that at all; it just wasn't so important to plan ahead after the blunder-or brainstorm!-that put them both at ease.
Strange the way it happened. Almost by accident! Jolene was just out of the tub and slipping into a negligee when the youngster knocked to deliver a message from the kitchen staff. And soon they were chatting like old friends. Except that somehow-probably because of the heavy bath oil scent-the conversation took a new tack and became mildly sexy. Nothing very obvious, but enough to make Jolene stand up and stretch nervously and check something on the dresser, an excuse to turn away and regain her composure. She glanced at her mirror-image, quite suggestive in the sheer negligee, too good to go to waste now. And instead of returning to her chair, she flung herself upon the bed and leaned back lazily, adjusting the filmy flounces to the best advantage.
Then she saw the kid's eyes on her, glittering like green gems and betraying something new and rather startling in their depths-a hint of hidden wickedness? Or so it seemed, certainly-and the impulse came on strong, too strong to ignore; the hell with perfect planning, the hell with finesse, blunder ahead! It was an awkward moment, but Jolene solved that by opening her mouth and simply letting the words tumble, blurting out the gist of how she had felt and what she had done-no details, just a quick belly gesture-on the night after their first meeting. Then, aghast at her own bold confession, she shut up and waited for the roof to cave in. Only the blunder turned out to be a brainstorm.
"You mean it, Miz Jolene? You did that because of me?"
"Uh-huh. Just like a schoolgirl. And now you know my secret. Oh, I'm so embarrassed! Doing it to myself ... "
"Don't be. After all, it's normal."
"Thank you, dear. I'm glad you realize that. But you're very young to be so understanding. You're a clever girl."
"Not so clever. I had a good teacher, that's all. Years ago there was this next-door neighbor-lady who was always nice to me and I must have had a kind of crush on her. Anyway, right after she lost her husband I used to go over and keep her company. And pretty soon I found out she needed more than just my company, you know? So I offered to help her."
"You helped her? With your hand?"
"Yeah. Instead of doing it herself." Ardith lowered her eyes shyly. "She showed me how. It was to give her relief, she said. I liked her a lot, so it didn't really bother me. I-I guess maybe I even enjoyed it."
"And she didn't do anything to you?"
"N-no, not that I can remember. She just told me what to do and I did it. It was kind of exciting, in a way-like I was in love with her, you know what I mean? She was always so soft and sweet, always a lot of perfume-and her thing was warm and wet and covered with-"
"Her thing? Was that what she called it?"
"At first, yeah. But ... uh ... well, like I said, she was a pretty good teacher. After a while she loosened up and talked more freely and I learned all the names. Only I didn't want to say anything like that to you, Miz Jolene. You might not like the dirty words."
"They're not dirty."
"They're not? You don't think so?"
"Umm, perhaps they are. Just a little ... " Inwardly aflutter, Jolene slid down off the headboard pillows in a twisting motion, unconcerned with the cling of her negligee. "But that just adds to the fun, doesn't it? A touch of spice, hmm? No, dear, I don't object at all. When the mood is right I'm apt to mutter a few choice phrases myself."
"Oh, you're so nice. You're just like her. Even nicer. I mean if you were really and truly thinking of me ... "
"I've told you enough. No more confessions. And if you keep looking at me like that I'll probably wind up doing it again tonight, won't that be awful?"
"You'd better not. Then I'll owe you two instead of just one."
"Oh? You figure you owe me? I had no idea. Hmm. I wonder just how good that teacher of yours was."
"I'll show you, I'll show you." Giggling eagerly, Ardith sprang from her chair and perched on the side of the bed. Then the bravado seemed to ooze out of her, leaving only a demure child. "Uh, is it all right? Miz Jolene? You know. Okay?"
"But of course. Tsk, tsk. Why so bashful all of a sudden?"
"Well ... "
Jolene needed no answer, quite aware of a lowly pledge's cautious diffidence in matters above her station, all the more so when dealing with the lofty housemother. The poor kid was simply following the rules. With permission granted though, that hand down there had apparently regained full confidence in its craft, becoming a whole handful of adroit fingers, threading through the hair to perform fantastic feats of magic. The child was remarkable! Jolene had been diddled by experts in her day, but the touch of that small hand brought a sensation beyond past experience. Unless it wasn't the hand itself, she reasoned shrewdly, maybe it was just the youthful beauty of this little lesbian lover that made everything so exciting.
"Ma'm? Okay?"
"Love it. My cunt loves it. Oooh!"
"Your cunt loves to get fucked, huh? Like this. Fingerfucked. You feel me fucking your cunt with my fingers? Nice, I'll bet. Hey, come on, aren't you going to say anything?"
"Darling ... "
"Aw, that's not much. I thought you'd be a real talker, Miz Jolene. Just like me. But I'll forgive you this time, you talked enough when you told me about doing it to yourself. I mean you talked honest, you know? Everybody ought to be like that-no secrets, nothing to be ashamed of-just let it all hang out. Everybody in the same sorority, anyway. If you hadn't told me about yourself we wouldn't be having fun like this, right? I wouldn't be fingerfucking this big hot cunt. See what we might have missed?"
It sounded pretty logical, but Jolene's perspective was unclear by that time; vaguely she got the impression that this no longer timorous little newcomer was embarking on a campaign to rewrite the rules and regulations of Omega Pi. Or change the customs, at least. But that was all right, it still seemed okay, whatever this precocious little lover-brat said or did-just as long as she carried that lovely fingerfuck to its logical conclusion. Which was pretty much a sure thing at this point as Jolene writhed in the heat of orgasmic urgency and felt an immediate response to her every bodily need, a response of miraculous fingers, a multiplicity of fingertips, all slithering around inside her cunt with but one inexorable aim ...
That was the beginning of a relationship which developed by leaps and bounds. Their next rendezvous was planned, not accidental, only the girl got there a few minutes ahead of schedule; this time Jolene was still in the tub. She had left her door unlocked though, and a shout brought Ardith right in. All the way in, unexpectedly, which proved to be a mite embarrassing.
"Oh. I guess I'm early, huh?"
"It's all right, dear. I'm just getting out."
"Good. My timing is okay then. I'll help you." Then, reaching for a towel, "Come on, I'll dry you off, beautiful lady."
The protest died on Jolene's lips; how could anyone refuse such a charmingly phrased offer? She stepped out onto the bathmat and into the enfolding towel, shuddering deliciously as the fluffy fabric went over her shoulders and arms, gliding slowly upon her wet skin. The scented atmosphere was charged with emotion. She swayed dizzily, almost sobbing aloud as the focus of attention moved to her breasts; now her entire body was ignited, even her untouched thighs were twitching and trembling convulsively. Then the towel slid down over her belly and the choked sob finally broke free.
"Miz Jolene? You feeling sexy?"
"Umm ... "
"Me too. Sexy enough to do something right here."
"Here? In the bathroom."
"Uh-huh. And I don't mean with just my hand." Ardith sank to her knees suddenly, planting a quick but intimate kiss as she went on plying the towel. "So pretty. I just had to kiss it."
"You darling. Let's go to bed."
"No. Now. I've got to. You're so nice and warm just out of the tub like this, mmmm ... " Another kiss; then, "Oh, I've just got to, I can't help it-won't you let me suck your pretty cunt?"
The plea was irresistible, muting Jolene's protest once again, and she stood there shaking as the sweet young face nuzzled up between her thighs. She teetered and went limp, her belly slumping right down upon the voraciously sucking mouth. For a while it was as if her insides were being tugged by a vacuum. It was silly in a way, almost lewd, standing like this and being made love to in the bathroom. But with that tongue working so wildly now, darting and fluttering and driving her crazy, she couldn't worry about where it was happening, oh no, just let it happen!
Her wobbly limbs began to buckle. She tried to stave it off, a creeping languor brought on by the sensuality of that hot little mouth. But her body only sagged lower and at last crumpled to the mat. Then, instinctively, she rolled sideways and swung around to grasp at the tempting young legs and pull them close.
"Oh! Miz Jolene?"
"Like this. Both of us!"
"Oooh yes ... suck me ... suck my cunt ... "
Together they tore at the impeding panties. And then the golden tuft of hair, sparse but exquisitely seductive, drew Jolene's face in. Her tongue unfurled to seek out and explore the lips, the tender vaginal lips, the utterly enchanting little cunt-lips that opened and enticed her deeper. She savored the moist fragrance, the taste and odor of erotically aroused girl-flesh. Somehow the mouth burrowing into her own body seemed less important now, even remotely distracting as she strove to concentrate on this, a miracle of discovering a new and uniquely gratifying sex-thrill at a time in life when even the illusion of novelty was hard to come by. A woman her age, imagine, sucking the cunt of a princess, a young and beautiful little princess ...
Chapter 4
Luckily the little princess was willing and the beautiful romance blossomed, turning Jolene's existence into an ecstatic cotton-candy pink cloud. She felt rejuvenated, infused with new youth, never too tired to grasp any opportunity to sip the sweet succulence of that delectably immature cunt. Nor did she need anything in return now, finding a certain ever-fresh excitement in just that one uncomplicated act. For that matter, at times she could even climax while doing it, reaching her own sexual peak in conjunction with the crowning stroke of her tongue, the hot clitoral lick that turned her angel-child into a screeching devil. In this alone there was a joy that made all other joys seem pallid.
But every ointment has its proportionate fly-the opportunities were just too few and far between to satisfy Jolene, one of the disadvantages of life in a busy sorority house. Weekends often helped though, providing at least a small lull in the hustle and bustle as many of the girls signed out and went home. At which time the lovers would do some hustling and bustling of their own, naturally. But even then, even in the privacy of the housemother's quarters, the outside world was still something to contend with-in thought if not in actuality. Sue Quigley, for instance. Although that subject, when it came up, was disposed of in a manner that added a whole new dimension to the affair. It happened on a weekend, a naked weekend in bed. Between embraces ...
"It's been bothering me, Miz Jolene. I think Sue knows all about us and is terribly jealous."
"No doubt. So what?"
"You really ought to see her once in a while. Just now and then maybe-to keep her calmed down."
"Umm, perhaps you're right. But don't worry your pretty little head about it, darling. I know how to handle her."
"Do you? I hope so." Then, giggling, "Hey now, how do you handle Sue Quigley?"
"Don't be so nosy."
"Aw, come on. Tell me. I'll bet it's exciting, huh?"
"I suppose so. Yes, it's exciting-but more for her than for me. Far more, in fact. You're the only one who excites me, angel."
"But I want to hear about you and Sue. Please tell me. If you do ... uh ... well, I might ... uh ... "
"Rascal. Are you trying to strike a bargain with me? If so, I might be tempted. What are you offering?"
"Anything. Anything you want."
"Hmm. That covers a lot of territory. Best offer I've had all day, I must admit. Okay, sweetheart, I'll tell you. Only you mustn't be shocked."
"Silly. Shock me, shock me, I dare you." Ardith giggled again and then turned momentarily serious. "But you will stay friendly with her, won't you? I'd feel better about it, you know?"
"Of course, dear. If you insist. I don't mind being nice to Sue to keep her happy. Although nice isn't exactly the word for it. You should see the way I order her around."
"You-you give her orders? Sexy orders?"
"I'll say. She becomes my slave, practically."
"Aw, you're putting me on. It's hard to believe." Obviously intrigued, Ardith shook her head slowly. "A slave. Hey, you know something? That gets me excited."
"Then you'd better listen. Lean back on your pillow, get nice and comfortable, darling."
"Uh-huh. Don't skip any of the juicy parts."
Smiling at the request, Jolene plunged right in, making the juicy parts sound even juicer after a while, watching the effect on her delightfully enraptured listener. Giving herself free rein, she embroidered the tale more than somewhat, inspired by the girlish sighs and giggles of disbelief. And by the time her narrative tapered to a close, she too was sharing the excitement.
"Oooh, that sure turns me on." Ardith's hand moved in a gentle caress. "Miz Jolene, I just love to hear you talk."
"Flattery, hmm? Oh no, don't think you're not going to pay off, my dear. You said you'd do anything I want you to. So you can't soft-soap your way out of it."
"You win. I'm in your power. That's what I said-any thing-so go ahead, what's your pleasure?"
"This ... "
"Huh?"
"Just spread those pretty legs. Better yet, just relax and I'll spread them for you. Let me get down there ... "
The smooth young limbs quivered under the affectionate urging of Jolene's fingers. She stroked the white skin sensuously, sliding her hands up between the gradually parting thighs, once again succumbing to the sublime aura of youth. This was her pleasure-the smell, the taste, the luscious-sweet softness that engulfed her face and turned her into a most willing captive. A captive basking in the wonderment of her own captivity ...
"Miz Jolene?"
"Mmm?"
"I'm not doing anything."
"Huh?"
"How can I pay off? I said I'd do whatever you wanted, but I'm lying here doing nothing. It's not right."
"Hush. This is what I want."
"Oh. Just-just that?"
"Darling, what's the matter?" Jolene sat up. "You sound like you might have some ideas of your own. Do you?"
"Well, sure. Who wouldn't?"
"Do tell. I'm all ears."
"Nope. Then I still wouldn't be paying off."
"Oh, that. Hmm. All right, honeybunch, let's just say I want what you want. There now, does that simplify it? You said you'd do anything. Okay, so the thing I want most is for you to speak up and tell me those secret ideas of yours."
"You mean it? And will you promise to go along with my ideas after you've heard them?"
"Uh-huh. I promise."
"Well ... it's about Sue Quigley and the way you-"
"Sue?" Jolene frowned. "Come now, haven't we talked about her long enough?"
"You-you interrupted me. Now be quiet and let me finish. It's not about Sue, really, only the way you treated her. I got excited listening to you. And now I want to try it myself."
"Ardith, what are you saying? You're to treat you the same way that I-"
"No."
"No? What, then? I don't understand."
"That's the way I want to treat you. Can you understand that, Miz Jolene? I want to make you king me my slave. Now do you see the kind of ideas I've been getting?"
"Oh ... "
"Is-is that wrong?"
"Umm, well, I did promise ... "
"You mean it's okay? Oh, I love you so much. You're so good to me. Hey, this is going to be fun!"
"Uh-huh. And I love you. But I'm becoming impatient. Where are all those cute ideas of yours?"
"You'll find out. But I've got to think about them first-and about the things you did with Sue, too." Ardith swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I'd better go splash some cold water on my face. My head is spinning and I can't think straight."
"All right, dear. Would you like some help?"
"Help? What kind of help?"
"Well ... a little loving maybe ... "
"Sure, come on along. And while I'm washing my face you can get down on your knees and kiss me, hmm?"
"I'll kiss you and kiss you and kiss you ... "
But the little darling was already striding away, and Jolene had to scramble from the bed and hurry after her. She caught up and they entered the bathroom together. Once inside, Ardith whirled around and waggled her backside, a lewdly jutting motion.
"So you want to kiss me, huh? Okay. Not like before, though. If you want to kiss me, kiss me there!" She stepped to the sink and turned the water on, then glanced back over her shoulder. "Come on, what are you waiting for?"
Jolene stared at the soft white curves, the saffron-tinged furrow, repelled and fascinated at the same time. Then, with a throaty moan, she slumped to her knees and pulled the softness to her face. The firmly rounded flesh was sweet and clean and fragrant, the skin satiny to her lips, worthy of a thousand kisses. She lavished them gladly, tasting with her tongue, conscious only of the fascination now, the magnetic tug of a dark but surely delectable mystery ...
"Hey! Between the cheeks, huh? Yeah. Like that. Oooh! Now you've got it. You're right, it does help- just the thing to put me in the mood to organize my ideas. You didn't think I'd forget, did you?"
"Ummm ... no ... you ... "
"Don't stop, just keep on kissing me. Fun, huh? Aren't you glad you told me about Sue? No more secrets, not ever. Oooh, I love this, I love having a slave. My slave Jolene. You're going to be a better slave than Sue Quigley ever was. You believe that, don't you? Don't answer, just nod your head. Do it!"
"Mmm ... "
"Okay. Now get in deep. Is that all the tongue you've got? Come on, come on ..." Ardith was splashing water on her face, the sound of her voice coming through half-garbled. "Lick my ass, lick it good, you hear? Right up my asshole! Just use your tongue, that's all, don't move around down there, give me something steady to lean back against while I relax and decide which idea to start with. I keep thinking up new ones all the time, you know?"
A shudder rippled through Jolene's abjectly crouched form as the crude words drilled into her brain. But she could only go on kissing. As she had been told to do. Using her tongue. As she had been commanded to do. And doing it all without any extra movement, of course, wedged into the cleavage of those soft but adamantly oppressive buttocks and bearing the precious body-burden of her imperious little princess ...
It was a wildly delirious weekend. The strange contrast of Ardith's dainty girlishness and powerful personality kept Jolene in a giddy whirl of enchantment. And the delirium persisted in the weeks afterward. Weeks. Months. And despite an intervening summer, into the following year.
Sue Quigley had graduated and gone and Ardith was a pledge no longer; as an active member now she had the right to take a favorite pledge of her own, a baby faced creature with an oddly low-pitched voice. Again it was mainly for camouflage though, and this time there was no interference with the fun and games, no change in the beautiful relationship, a mad and deliciously topsy-turvy relationship that all but dominated Jolene's existence. Although by then it was becoming more and more evident that nothing was being camouflaged to any great degree, at least not as far as her young lover's intimate friends were concerned. And there were many such friends, a nucleus within the sorority, an inner circle of like-minded gay girls who knew the score. The power of Ardith's personality was simply too strong for containment and was making itself felt in other corners of the house.
So even a sweet delirium must have its sour moments of lucidity, and Jolene's bliss was tainted by the hints and whispers of covert iniquities among her charges. She tried to close her eyes to the messy business, only to find it growing increasingly flagrant, too prevalent to ignore. Once the girls recognized her as an involved and consequently lenient housemother, they added new converts to their ranks at an alarming rate. And she couldn't very well avoid the sickening realization that her beloved blonde princess was the ringleader, the acknowledged chieftain of an underground clique of lesbians.
It preyed heavily on her conscience. And in a spate of grim resolution she laid down the law to Ardith, expecting an argument and feeling immensely relieved when none came.
"I understand, Jolene. You want me to cool it, huh? Your biggest worry is scandal, isn't it?-some scandal that might reach the dean's ear and jeopardize your job. Okay. As long as you don't interfere, I'll keep the kids in line. Whatever happens here, the rest of the school won't get wind of it-and that's a promise. After all, we do love our housemother."
That helped ease Jolene's mind a little but was hardly a salve for her harrowed conscience. For a few minutes longer she put up some resistance. But it was only a token effort and in the end she had to capitulate; anyway, wasn't it the lesser of two evils? The house might become a hotbed of depravity, but as long as it remained under wraps, well ...
And that was how matters stood now, a year later, the third year of their tempestuous affair. The third and final year, thank heaven, so if she could just keep the lid on the pressure-cooker until June graduation, it would all be over. Next year she would know better than to get so irrevocably entangled, sticking to meek types like that Sue Quigley. Dull but safe. Or even safer, perhaps no girl at all for a while-a year of penance to atone for her moral laxity and get the sorority straightened out. Yes indeed. Especially since she might have another young hellion to contend with in a few more years-little Ginger Lorimer-a chip off the old block? Oh hell, what a prospect! Good thing the house would be calm again by that time.
Chapter 5
The light from one small bulb glowed weakly, dimmed by a scarf over the lampshade. Green eyes half shut, blonde hair spread behind her pillowed head, Ardith Lorimer drew deep but uniformly regular breaths. Throughout the slim length of her nude white body, that was the only sign of motion, an almost unvarying rise and fall of her bosom. It was a good bosom, not exactly spectacular in size but firm and solid and crowned with perfect pink nipples, elegantly shaped even in repose. The kind of breasts that might have fit nearly into champagne goblets-and had, according to the legend around the Omega Pi house. But of that, the less said the better: such a girl lives for the thrill of the moment and takes little interest in recollections of the past.
Now, however, even in the enjoyment of the present moment, her absorption waned somewhat as she contemplated the greater enjoyment of moments to come. Not that Ardith considered the present dull, of course, most assuredly not!-through lidded eyes she could see Merle's busily bobbing head; between her lazily quiescent thighs she could feel the expertise of Merle's equally busy | tongue. And hidden but not unperceived was the twin clutch of Merle's hands, palms cupping and fingers delving; oh no, the present moment was far from dull ...
"Ardith?"
"Umm."
"Something wrong? You're not ... uh ... "
"Sorry. I was just thinking."
"Oh. I ought to stop then, huh?"
"Why? Unless you want to."
"You know me better than that. When did I ever?"
"Then don't, silly. Suck, suck. You've got my cunt, isn't that enough for you?"
The bobbing motion returned with renewed verve. Ardith signified her approval with a tiny pelvic lurch, a response that elicited even more enthusiasm from her obviously grateful lover. Grateful for the least little commendation, the smallest show of indulgence. How easy it was to put the kid in her place!
But, then, well, it had always been like that I between them, a mutual understanding right from the start. That was in the fall of last year, Ardith's first term as an active member of the sorority, a time to exercise her long-awaited right of authority among the new pledges. And along came Merle Winthrop, meek and worshipful and eager to please, a youngster with a voice like a cello. It was low and husky, almost incongruous coming from the cute rosebud mouth that made her face seem so babyish. Only she wasn't babylike at all, aside from that early impression, not with her rich auburn hair and dark brown eyes and a prematurely developed body that was already on the verge of voluptuous. And they soon gravitated into a "favorite" relationship that turned out to be highly satisfactory to both. In a way really it was still going on today, even though Merle had achieved full status in the group, including acceptance and indoctrination into the Magpies, the erotic inner circle that flourished in comparative secrecy and was so dear to Ardith's heart.
For that matter, even now, this very minute, that was where her mind kept leading. Her ex-pledge Merle Winthrop was a faithful comrade and fellow conspirator-timid but easily persuaded-in this slowly thickening plot to take over the Omega house and make it their own private pleasure-province. But such timidity was bound to become a real hindrance eventually, in view of what lay ahead, and it was time to spring a few surprises and wake her up. At the moment-however enjoyable-it was even more important than the continued mating of hot cunt and hotter cuntlapping tongue. That important!
"Merle ... "
"Hmm?"
"Slow down. Stop awhile."
"Mmm ... "
"Lover-girl, don't be so greedy, you'll get more later. But you're right about my not being with it. I've got some things on my mind, ideas that ought to be spilled while they're still fresh, you know? Come on, sit up-let's have a look at that sexy baby-face of yours. I like to see it all smeared and shiny."
"Okay, you talked me into it. How's this? Sexy enough for you? It sure tastes sexy-and just leftovers, too, how about that? Leftover mouthful of cunt. So if you see me licking my lips ... "
"Lick, lick. But listen, you hear? I just had a kind of crazy idea. Do you know what the French word dessous means?"
"Uh-huh. Under. Below. Beneath. That's easy."
"More than that. I once looked it up in the big dictionary, the one in the library. It means underneath, secret, underside, hidden side, secret side, inferior ... Also women's underwear. And in slang, the underparts of the woman herself-which could only be cunt and ass, right? Anyway, it's a nice useful word for us Magpies. Instead of pledge or personal attendant, how about dessous-girl?"
"Dessous-girl. Hmm. Pretty-classy."
"And maybe d-girl for short, huh? Oh, and while we're at it, there's another word I like. Domina. I came across it in a hot porn book. It's a form of address, very high-ranking. So every Maggie ought to be a Domina to her d-girl. Hey, not bad! I just invented a brand-new tradition."
"Ardith, sometimes I think you're a little weird."
"Yeah. That's what our housemother keeps, telling me."
"Well, she's right for once. Incidentally, do you still have to spend so much time with her? It's as bad as last year."
"Oh shit, don't start that again. I'm 'only doing what's best for all of us, all of the insiders. Think of the work we've done just to get the bunch together. What a waste it would be to lose everything now, just when I'm getting her broken in. You do understand, don't you, honey?"
"I-I guess so."
"Besides, I'm thinking of next year, too-and the year after that. I'd like the Omega house to be a place where" I can come and visit and have a ball. And I'd like it to be in good shape for my kid sister when she gets here in a couple of years. Smart-ass little pussy ... " Ardith grinned and then dropped the bombshell she had been leading up to. "By the way, that'll be your responsibility. I'm going to get you elected president."
"Me? President?"
"Uh-huh. Don't look so surprised?"
"But why me? Why not Ursula?"
"You're more popular with the sorority as a whole. And you rate pretty high with Jolene, too-and she's got influence. So just keep on acting nice and ladylike in her presence and you'll have her support, come election time. And meanwhile I'll be trying to get Ursula in as pledge-mistress. The gay set in control practically, won't that be something?"
"I'm flabbergasted. I just never figured ... "
"Listen, You'll have to put in some effort of your own. Be more aggressive with the pledges. Get around more, spread your wings, look for a little fun."
"Oh. Do I have to? Darling, my fun is right here."
"Shit! That's enough of that. You've got to quit worshiping me-at least once in a while, baby. We can still be friends-and when I'm in the mood we'll be more than friends. Don't worry, I'll have time for you. I'm not even taking a favorite this year. But I want you to. Or start looking for one, anyway. Act bossy, impress the populace, you know? Don't overdo it, of course, especially if our nosy housemother is watching. But aside from that, jump right in and get your feet wet, okay?"
"I-I understand. It'll be kind of new to me, though."
"So what? You'll learn. Begin with somebody easy, a kid like that chubby Hilary Rourke, for instance. The redhead. Why don't you sample that long tongue of hers?"
"Hilary Rourke. Well, she doesn't exactly appeal to me. But how do you know about her tongue? Ardith, don't tell me you've ... "
"No, silly. With Jolene around my neck, who's got time? But I told Ursula Baum to do a quick job on her, a rough job, just the thing for a submissive type. Anyhow, it turns out that she's got a long tongue and knows how to use it. And the poor kid should really appreciate you after suffocating in that big bush of Ursula's. You might even make her your favorite."
"My dessous-girl, you mean."
"Yeah. I stand corrected." Ardith chuckled. "Domina Merle and her d-girl Hilary. Hey, I like that sound of that."
"No, thanks. I might give her a whirl, but when the time comes I'll choose my own. Okay with you?"
"Fine. Just so long as you choose one."
"Don't rush me. Or I might just rush you. Like right now-darling, haven't we talked long enough? I can't even taste cunt on my lips any more. Oh, you're so beautiful ... "
Soft fingers wandered over Ardith's flesh in a pattern of hopeful devotion; the constrained ardor communicated itself and her body came alive to the touch. The lecture was over and she had made her point, a meeting of the minds, no problem. And now, as much as sexual desire, she felt the need to be kind. It seemed no more than fair that she should show some consideration for this anxious lover whose wistful lovemaking smacked of sheer worship. Especially since she didn't have to do much but lie there in the path of that rosebud mouth and let the lovely sensation sweep over her. Despite their year-long familiarity in bed, the thrill hadn't worn off and she seldom failed to respond sensuously to her ex-pledge's caresses. At the moment, in fact, her response had suddenly grown great, all out of proportion to the still somewhat gingerly stimulus, and she raised her voice in dictatorial demand.
"Oh shit, all that bitchy plotting and planning must have turned me on. Don't dally, kid, here's what you're after, right here between my legs. I'm one hell of a hot bitch tonight!"
"Uh-huh. You really are. Such a bitch ... "
"Damn right. A bitch from the word go. Yeah. So get to work on my bitchy cunt, you cuntlapper. I'll cream a mouthful for you, big enough to choke on. Suck!"
A low-pitched cry of joy sounded-even now, sweet as a cello!-and barely an instant later Ardith was writhing peremptorily against the sucking rosebud. Her sex-dew gushed and frothed over like a fountain, turning the contact oil-slick and slithery, compelling her to clutch the floundering head close and hang on for dear life. And soon she was lurching up and down, smearing the length of her slippery cunt upon the freshly smeared and slippery baby face. Just like a bitch in heat-the two of them, a couple of bitches-and wasn't it wonderful to be an Omega Magpie? Where else could a hot lesbian bitch feel so at home?
Chapter 6
Even though this room next door seemed familiar as her own by now, Hilary Rourke felt vaguely uncomfortable. Was it because they were alone like this? Funny. Ordinarily she would have welcomed the chance to get cozy and trade sorority gossip-or pledge-gossip, rather, a grapevine rooted more in fear than in fact-especially the kind of secret stuff that was passed along in whispers from one scared kid to another. The kind that Kay was so good at digging up. And they hadn't been alone together lately, so there was bound to be some inside dope on all the recent developments.
Kay Sturdevant was an irrepressible clown at times, quite masculine in nature and even a bit bossy with her fellow pledges, but somehow she always knew what was going on around the house. There had been instances when Hilary could scarcely wait to swap versions of the latest rumor with her. But now, unaccountably, she had this vaguely uneasy presentiment about staying and chatting. It was as if she might be committing I herself to something unforeseen, something even ; cozier than a whispered exchange of confidences, Cozier-but kind of creepy just the same, creepy in a way that didn't make sense. Why should sex seem so important all of a sudden? Hmm. The bra and panties maybe ...
"Don't go, Hilary. Stay and keep me company, huh? Unless you came over just to see my roommate ... "
"N-no, not really. Is she due back soon?"
"Beats me. She went to the library to start working on a term paper. Conscientious, that kid. I'm just the opposite myself, always letting things slide till the last minute. Besides, who can think of schoolwork with so much else to worry about?"
"Hah! you don't look very worried."
"Well ... you know ... " Kay shrugged. "All that stuff about the Magpies. The after-hours party ... " Then, almost slyly, "You made up your mind yet? Going to join the sacred inner circle?"
That did it. Sex was important here, sure enough, and Hilary's foreboding didn't feel so farfetched now. The question called for only a yes or no in reply-a simple yes or no-but any answer at all, any truthful answer, would be tantamount to a confession. All the pledge-gossip was still pretty impersonal, it hadn't yet narrowed down to the necessity for declaring oneself openly-until this very moment. The moment of truth! And unavoidable, apparently, if they were to continue on with this same forbidden but irresistibly enticing subject-whisper by breathless whisper-wasn't the upcoming clandestine party the talk of pledge-ghetto these days? Only it sounded so matter-of-fact now, right out in the open; Kay wasn't even whispering! Which made her painfully inquisitive blockbuster all the more difficult to dodge ...
"Well? No answer? Oh shit, you're blushing! I guess that's answer enough, honey, maybe I'll blush a little myself. Your secret is my secret. Except that there aren't any secrets among the Maggies, you know? Not on the inside. Once you're in, you'll have to let it all hang out. And you do want to get in, don't you?"
"I-I've given it some thought."
"Cagey. Oh, that's cagey. Come on, loosen up. this is strictly between the two of us. We're both in the same boat. You think I'm not dying to become one of the insiders?"
Hilary breathed a silent sigh of relief, still somewhat queasy but no longer embarrassed. Even more now, the atmosphere reeked of sex-two self-declared gay girls meeting head-on for the first time. The word remained unspoken as yet-lesbian-but its implications already lurked behind every glance and gesture. Now she couldn't even look in that direction without becoming overly conscious of Kay's body. Especially in that matching bra-and-panties set, an outfit that demanded notice at least, if not admiration. They were accustomed to seeing each other in robes or pajamas or even shortie nightgowns, sheer and sexy, a popular style of sleepwear in the house. But lingerie was something else again, sexier in a more intimate way, hardly the costume for receiving a casual visitor. And now she just couldn't avoid staring any more, it was too great an effort to keep her eyes averted, too much to expect at this weird stage of the game. She stared at attractive female bodies a lot anyway; why get squeamish over this one?
It was attractive, all right, well worth a lengthy and leisurely stare of appraisal. If not an outright ogle. Worthy of sharper scrutiny, at any rate, and Hilary wondered why she hadn't really noticed all those goodies before. Just not her type, probably, not the type of body that stirred her at first sight. Looking at it even now, so boyishly slender, made her feel ultra-feminine by contrast. And yet there was no doubt of its budding womanliness, the sweet-flowing curve of breast and hip. Cupped and accented by the lacy bra, those small but impeccably contoured breasts achieved a certain splendor. And covered but not exactly confined by the flimsy panties, a pair of shapely girl-buttocks appeared less butchy and more beautiful with every rippling change of posture. Regardless of type then, this lithely graceful configuration of flesh was definitely a major contribution to the sexy atmosphere.
"Still playing it cagey, huh? Too bad. Hilary, if you don't learn how to relax and open up, you'll never make it with the Maggies. Not that it's any business of mine. Only I'd like to help, if you'd let me. I've got such a good thing going myself ... "
"Oh. You mean with Diane Fordyce. It's working out okay for you, hmm? You're lucky. Or smart maybe, smart enough to know your own mind. Which is more than I can say for myself, I'll admit. So if you're serious about wanting to help me ... "
"Uh-huh. First of all, are you thinking of anyone as a prospect, somebody you'd like to hook up with as a favorite? And if you're too bashful to answer that, I give up."
"I'm not bashful, just dumb. I like them all. But what I really need is someone a lot older-a grown woman, not a girl. A woman like my aunt. Oh shit, I might as well confess and get it over with, I've still got a crush on her. My aunt. Dear old Aunt Veda, the bitch! She owned me. Like I was her personal property, you know? And that's what I need and can't find in the sorority, a relationship like that. Something like the thing between you and Diane Fordyce, maybe. Don't you belong to her in the same way?"
"Hah! That's a laugh. Diane belongs to me."
"How's that again? Kay, what are you saying? It's not right to talk like that about-"
"Yeah. You've got a point there. The walls have ears around this place. But it's true, though-about me and Diane-only I'd better not shout it from the housetops. Hey, that aunt of yours must be a wild one; tell me more, huh?"
"Oh, you don't want to hear-"
"There you go again, clamming up on me. Now listen, this time I'm giving the orders-you're going to talk if I have to force it out of you word by word. Come on over here, get close so we can keep our voices down. No, wait, better lock the door first in case Nikki shows up and barges in on us."
"But-but we're only talking."
"Of course. But lock it anyway, just in case. I hope Nikki does show up and catch us with the door locked; maybe she'll take the hint and get relaxed herself. Nice kid, but just too damned innocent to suit me. Unless it's an act she's putting on ... " Then, almost an afterthought, "Hey, you got the same trouble with your roommate? Is that why you're over here so much?"
"Uh-huh. Something like that."
"We should have been roomies-you and me, you know?"
With the locked door behind her, Hilary moved toward the bed hesitantly, the bed where that near-nude body was already sliding over to make room for her-an invitation with overtones of command. Backing out now would only lead to a big hassle. And yet it was too soon for the kind of erotic ideas that the intimacy of a bed might bring, too soon to sacrifice this nice friendship on the altar of sex. Too soon for that look in Kay's eyes ...
"Come on, honey. Cuddle up."
"Slow down, will you? I thought we were going to talk. Tell me about you and Diane Fordyce first." It wasn't that important, but Hilary was playing for time, postponing her moment of decision. "Did you really mean it, what you said about her?"
"Damn right. It's almost funny, actually. I'm pretty boyish, you know, and that's just what Diane goes for. She's so dainty and delicate-all feminine fluff-and I can practically twist her around my little finger. I even made her get us invited to that secret party-and she's not really involved with the Magpies much. All I have to do is act aggressive and she melts in my arms."
"But-but what do you do together?"
"Everything. Whatever I feel like doing. Hmm. I guess you want to know exactly, huh? Yeah, this is no time to be bashful, not between you and me. I suck her cunt mostly, that's what turns me on. Or she sucks mine sometimes, if I tell her to. I just push her around a little, you know? Her big kick is for me to dyke her, though, so I do it once in a while just to keep her contented. Then she purrs like a pussycat."
"Dyke her?"
"Sure. You never heard of that? It's like fucking, only between two girls-the butch gets on top like a man and kind of grinds down hard. That's what Diane goes for. I just jump on and we fuck together, cunt to cunt. Dyking, it's called."
"Oh. A girl-fuck. That's nothing new."
"I didn't say it was. Hey, you're getting relaxed, huh? At last. Okay, now tell me about your aunt."
"Well ... "
"Don't you dare clam up again! I satisfied your curiosity and you'd better do the same for me. And do it right, baby, show me you're not a prude. If you sucked her cunt, say so. Say it in words that make sense-hot and sexy, like that Magpie bunch."
Hilary remained hesitant, aware of the mounting tension. Now she was expected to bare her innermost secrets. How could she do it? How could she dig out what lay buried so deep?
"Come on. Your aunt. Did you go down on her?"
"Uh-huh. Of course."
"Then say so. You sucked her cunt, right?"
So bossy! Prodding the words out, practically. "I-I sucked my Aunt Veda's cunt. I did what she told me to."
"You ate her good, huh? I'll bet. What else?"
"She liked me to lick her under the arms."
"Her armpits? Hey, that's wild. What were you, some kind of sex-slave? Was that it. Hilary?"
"I guess so. I used to kiss her feet a lot. More like a love-slave though, that was how it felt to me-like I was just loving her, you know? She's got pretty feet, nice and smooth, no bunions or corns or anything like that. I liked kissing them."
"Just kisses? Didn't you suck on her toes?"
"Well, sure. Everything. I licked her feet all over."
"The soles too? You licked the soles of her feet?"
"Aw. Now you're just too curious. Kay, are you making me talk just to get yourself excited?"
"Oh, shit, I'm excited already. But the more I learn about this sort of thing, the better I'll handle Diane. I'm going to use these ideas on her. So tell me. You licked the soles?"
"If she wanted me to."
"She ordered you?"
"No. Not exactly ... " Speech came more easily now, stimulated by wicked memories. "But If I was kneeling and she stuck her feet in front of my face. I'd just do it. I'd probably be hot by that time anyway, horny enough to do anything. If it was the sole of her foot, so what? I licked it. If she put her toes in my mouth, I'd suck them."
"Yeah. I get the picture." Kay's body wriggled restlessly closer, a grazing contact. "What if she turned around?"
"Turned around?"
"You know what I mean. What if your aunt turned around and shoved her bare ass in your face?"
"Oh. I'd just do what I was supposed to."
"With your tongue?"
"Ummm ... "
"Your tongue in her asshole? Hey, what was she like? In looks, I mean. Fat or skinny? Did she have a big ass?"
"Big. Almost fat. I-I liked doing it to her. Kneeling down behind her like that ... " Hilary gulped, the unspoken words choking in her throat suddenly. A hand was creeping under her skirt, an almost welcome interruption, rescuing her from something back there in the past. Something she couldn't talk about. "Hey, what's going on. You trying to sneak a little feel?"
"What do you think?" Then, moving again to bring the other hand into play, "I'm trying for more than that, baby. Mmm, such a nice plump pair of tits. Just let me unbotton-"
"No! Not like this. I've got a tight bra on under the blouse, too much to take off. I'd be a mess if Nikki knocked and wanted to come in. Don't undress me."
"Okay, okay. But you would like a little fun, wouldn't you? I mean, uh, this isn't a brush-off, is it?"
"Silly, It's just bad timing, that's all. I'd never be able to relax with my boobs hanging out."
"Uh, well, how about here?"
"Oh. You want me to take my panties off? I-I guess maybe they'd be easy enough to slip back into. But I'd still rather not go that far ... "
Again the flow of words faded, this time stifled by the eager pressure of Kay's lips. Lovely pink lips, Hilary noticed as they moved in on her, just naturally sexy-looking without makeup. Lovely to feel, too, soft and lovely against her own now-and her instinctive attempt at resistance soon became a sham. And then a determined tongue came gliding into her mouth, forcing swift surrender in a wave of hot melting dizziness. She could only moan through the cleft in those lovely lips, through and around the turbulent barrier, the writhing entanglement of tongues ...
"Hmm? Okay now?" A whisper in her ear, intrusive after the thrill of that lovely kiss. "Panties off? Let me do you. Right here between your pretty legs ... "
"You-you want to go down on me?"
"Wanna suck you. I'm hot for that cunt down there. Let me suck it and make you happy, Suck you cunt. Okay?"
Hilary waited, teasing herself now, already visualizing the lovely pink lips in her hair, the darkish red tuft. She mumbled her consent, arching upward to ease the preparations and then reaching down hastily to keep track of her panties. Just in case. But soon it didn't matter as the forceful hands took charge; she sank back into the warm fog of sensation, parting her legs limply and then almost enthusiastically in response to the nuzzling face. The hands slipped underneath her buttocks, lifting insistently, demanding a tighter seal of flesh with flesh. One more small arch to give those lips plenty of room. She offered it gladly, gasping in shock an instant later, overwhelmed by the abrupt intensity of the grip. A finger began probing between the cheeks back there, a fingertip on a ticklish mission. And in front meanwhile, that little slithery serpent of a tongue was doing some wiggly work of its own. Oh yes indeed, ticklish ... enough to make her giggle aloud ...
"Mmm? You like?"
"What-what are you doing?"
"You'll see. Ummm ... "
"No. Your finger. Ouch! Don't-"
"Hush now. It won't hurt. Such a nice big ass. Just relax and let me in. Come on, loosen up."
Relaxed or not, there was no stopping it. And now the tongue was wiggling again, going deeper, almost as though another inch or two would meet that finger inside her body. Anyway, who would be foolish enough to try to stop something that felt so good? Hilary jiggled up and down a little, alternating between both pressures, anxious to squeeze every possible benefit out of the stretching tongue and the pushing finger. But there was still another anxiety to cope with, a bad one, the kind that could become a real hangup if she didn't face it squarely. Spit it out-and the sooner the better-get her head clear and ready to deal with the present and forget the past. Just say it!
"Kay, listen, Don't quit, I love what you're doing. But listen, will you?-I've got more to confess. About my aunt, remember? I'm letting it all hang out. Like you said. I kind of choked up before, so it must be pretty important. We were talking about how I used to kneel in back of her and make love like that. Kiss her bottom. It was big, all right, big and soft, and it didn't take more than a touch of my tongue to turn us both on. Hey, you listening?"
"Umumummm ... "
"So that was me and my Aunt Veda. Early though, you know? I mean we were still just getting acquainted. Like brand-new lovers. Only she soon found out that I liked doing it to her even more than she liked having it done. And that was when she started making a slave out of me. My need gave her a big advantage; she held it like a club over my head-like a reward I had to work for by pleasing her in other ways. Whatever she wanted. So I began by worshiping her backside and wound up worshiping the rest of her. That was how it happened."
"Mmmph! All because of her ass? I'd sure like to hear more about that. Like in the very beginning. I mean, uh, like when did you first know ... well, about yourself ... "
"Good question. I'll tell you sometime. But not now, I've got to think it through myself first-it goes way back. Besides, I can't talk any more, not with that finger of yours ... "
"Sure, you can."
"No. I can't, Kay. You've got me so hot!"
"All the better. Talk, talk. Oh shit, not about your aunt, just talk about us. You and me. My finger up your asshole, how's it feel down there?"
"Lovely. But I liked your lovely kisses, too. Your lovely lips. Lovely little tongue playing around inside ... "
"You mean here? Inside your cunt?"
"Nnng, come on, gimme some tongue. Do something!"
"I'll give it to you. Plenty of tongue, right up your horny-hot cunt. If that's where you want it. Do you? Better speak up, honey, or you'll get nothing. And you damn sure won't get in good with the Maggies. So talk now-and make it hot and sexy, huh?"
"Oh. Teaser! Hot and sexy. Okay. Yeah, that's where I want it, right up my cunt. All the tongue you've got. More! Hot and sexy and dirty. Finger up my asshole. Suck my cunt! Oooh, that's the way, you crazy cuntlapper, that's just gorgeous. Makes me feel like I'm all cunt, everything!"
"All cunt. Mmm ... "
"Shut up and suck, you little whore, I'll do the talking for both of us. Teasing little slut. Probably too dumb to know the difference between a cunt and an asshole. Keep that finger working, you hear? Hot and sexy and dirty. Fuck me, fuck me good! I mean if you want to be one of those Magpie lesbians ... "
"Hey!"
"S'matter? Oh. Hmm, that's one thing my dear old Aunt Veda really taught me. Lesbian is not a dirty word. I wish it was, maybe it would be more fun, you know?"
"Huh? More fun?"
"Yeah, sure. Nice dirty lesbian fun, just the two of us, two horny lesbians trying to make it in a horny lesbian sorority. Come on, you cunt-crazy kid, eat my lesbian cunt! And listen, no more advice about favorites and such-they'll all love me, once they find out how hot and sexy and dirty I can be. I'll bet I've got the longest goddam lesbian tongue in the house. Maybe I won't be anybody's favorite, maybe I'll play the field and have fun with everybody. Don't worry, the Maggies won't turn me down. Oooh! It's coming, it's bubbling up inside. Hey, you're good! Fuck me, fuck me with your face, fuck me with your finger. Nnngg. Lovely, lovely. Fuckin' little lesbian cuntlapper ... "
Chapter 7
The setup seemed pretty provocative, but Merle Winthrop still wasn't expecting much out of it. Not with the young kids here for the first time. Too many unknown quantities. But the contrived atmosphere was great just the same, conducive enough to let the goggle-eyed little brats know that this wasn't just any after-hours party, oh no, this was their first confrontation with the shadowy truth behind a thousand crystal-clear rumors. The answer to their one collective doubt: was there really a sex-club called the Magpies? Wasn't it all just a clever put-on to shock and maybe scare the poor gullible pledges? But no, here they were at last, the Magpies at play. Or was this just a put-on, too?
Merle grinned, recalling her own confused feelings in a similar situation. But the setup was sexier tonight. Well, more romantic at least; last year's expenditure for folding chairs and card-tables must have been proposed with just this in mind. Now, with the addition of checkered tablecloths, the place looked like a tiny cabaret. Dimly lit, of course, just a few candles here and there, too low to penetrate the thick blankets tacked over the windows. And the adjoining room was even darker-hmm, talk about conducive!-with extra throw-rugs and pillows strewn all over the carpeted floor. In case the hoped-for mood came on, a prospect that appeared more and more possible with every passing minute, hallelujah!
Because of the wine, most likely-sweet and rather mild but already taking effect evidently. The dancing had become a bit less restrained now and there were some noticeably flushed faces among the newcomers. Then too, the costumes helped-another one of Ardith's bright ideas! The barefoot pledges seemed so small and submissive in their baby-doll pajamas. While the Maggies towered over them on high heels, svelte in simple black sheaths. With the sexiest of lingerie underneath, naturally, to be stunningly displayed if and when the party-mixture came to a boil. Even seated at a table, the stark difference in dress made Merle feel big and strong and confident. Her chair was turned sideways, angled to allow her a broader view of the room; she sat with her knees crossed to allow an uncluttered view of herself, especially of her heavy but voluptuously curved bare legs. No stockings tonight, just the new shoes she had bought especially for the occasion-summery things-an impulsive and perhaps unwise gesture at this time of year. Nobody else was wearing dainty open-toed sandals. Maybe they were a little out of place.
Funny. She hadn't even thought of that, once the party was under way. Not until this moment. Not until she saw those eyes running down her legs to pause almost transfixed at her feet. The eyes of a shy but apparently appreciative pledge. Or was it just normal brat-curiosity?
Merle raised her hand, beckoning. "Nikki ... "
"You-you want me, Miss Winthrop?"
"Don't be so formal. No one rates a title but Miz Jolene-and she isn't here, thank heaven. Now tell me, kid, what the hell were you staring at a minute ago?"
"Oh, was I staring? I'm sorry."
"That's no answer. Come on, let's have it."
"I-I must have been looking at your feet, They look so nice in those sandals. So pretty ... "
"Well now, that sounds like a compliment. Nothing to be bashful about, anyway. You like my new sandals?" Merle extended her legs, quite pleased. Out of season or not, the heels were certainly high enough. And the narrow straps had a kind of unique charm among all these severely styled close-toe pumps.
"Uh-huh. The way they set off your pretty feet ... "
Sit down, honey." Almost preoccupied, Merle pursed her rosebud lips pensively, wondering what to make out of this rather intriguing development. Then the notion struck: wasn't it about time for her to start acting aggressive? Even domineering? Ah yes, time to learn how to get tough, tough enough to satisfy Ardith and be ready to take over next year. "Nikki, your flattery is fine, but your stare was somewhat rude, wouldn't you say? A punishment is in order. I'll be lenient, though-let the punishment fit the crime. Just for that, you may kiss them. There's a penance for you. Duck down and kiss the sandals you stared at. Just slide down off your chair, nobody'll notice you in this light."
A small protest was expected-or at least a pained expression-but the youngster only nodded demurely, her eyes as innocent of rancor as flower petals in the morning dew. Eyes like wet violets. And the blonde head began its descent so swiftly that Merle had to hurry to swing her legs back under the table for the kiss. Or the two kisses, one on each. Or more?
So it seemed. The kid was licking now, her tongue tracing the lines of the thin leather straps. Soaking them, practically-along with some parallel stretches of skin. And then, almost like some inspired act of devotion, she left the leather and sought the intimacy of flesh with her worshipful mouth. Merle wriggled rapturously, luxuriating in the unprecedented sensation of that steamy-moist little tongue on her toes. Eager to understand it, she bent low enough to make her whisper heard.
"Nikki? You like my feet?"
"Umm ... beautiful ... "
"And the sandals?"
"Nice. B-but I love your feet. I-I'd like to take off the sandals. Kiss your toes, your bare toes-mmm, such pretty toes-kiss and lick and suck ... "
Merle shivered and sat up again, her brain spinning feverishly, unable to cope with the enormity of this strange new pleasure. She glanced around, wondering if people could see her twitching and biting her lips. What were they all staring at? Me? It wasn't so of course, but the momentary embarrassment was enough to slow down the spin and permit a semblance of clarity.
"No more, Nikki, Stop! Come up here and sit down."
The violet eyes reappeared. Then, tremulously, "Miss Winthrop? Merle? Are you angry with me?"
"No, dear. I rather enjoyed it."
"But-but you didn't let me-uh, you know what I said-about taking the sandals off ... "
"You really wanted to?"
"Oooh, so much! I got all excited kissing your feet. Only I kept wishing I could lick them all over. Your bare feet. Even underneath. Beautiful bare feet-sure, I wanted to."
"Hmm. I'll let you sometime. Not tonight, though, this isn't exactly the place for it. After all, it's party time. But don't fret, Nikki dear, you'll get your wish, you'll make love to my feet all you want. Soon. I promise. I'll invite you to my room and we can be alone together. Okay?"
"Uh-huh. Thank you."
"I'm sure we'll both enjoy it. And meanwhile, young lady, no more pouting. Run along and join the party now. Circulate. This is your one chance to find out what the Maggies are all about. And that's what you're here for, isn't it?"
"Oh. Well, sure. I guess so. But, uh, Miss Merle? I've already found out enough. You know. From now on I'll just be waiting for your invitation. And thinking about it. You know. Loving your bare feet ... "
It was a good party and would probably get even better, but the smile on Kay Sturdevant's face was phony. For one thing, she hadn't expected this division of rank according to costume, having figured on baby-doll pajamas for everyone. All those big high-heeled hussies made her feel pretty insignificant, naked almost, naked and vulnerable to every leering proposition-to say nothing of the danger of an accidental spiking. Twice tonight she had come within an ace of losing a toe. For the moment, luckily, she had been offered the sanctuary of a place at one of the precious tables, but that too had its disadvantages. Ugh! She was getting awfully tired of fat-assed Ursula Baum.
Even now she could practically feel the heat of that gaze upon her. From across the tiny table Ursula's beady eyes peered lustfully, stripping her to the skin. Only it was more than the glittering gaze that Kay felt; beneath the table-top those pudgy fingers were at it again, playing sneaky little games on her legs. They were wooing her, the furtively seeking fingers, and she was getting sick and tired of the whole stupid mess. Oh sure, in a way it was kind of nice to be admired and desired so obviously, so relentlessly-all evening long, it seemed like!-but did she have to get stuck with this one? Compared to some of these arrogant but admittedly elegant and interesting creatures, Ursula Baum was an ugly overweight slob. It was a mystery how she had gotten into the sorority in the first place, much less this secret clique devoted to the beauties of girl-girl love and romance. Money, no doubt, in view of her known background; the big dark bitch happened to be an heiress to millions.
She was dark, sure enough-especially those beady little black pig-eyes. Ursula Baum had coarse dark hair and a skin just this side of swarthy, but those X-ray eyes of hers had a blackness all their own, enough to give anybody the creeps. Anybody who couldn't just get up and walk away. Kay shuddered. Oh shit, what a pain in the ass to be so powerless, what a nuisance to attend such a slam-bang party as a lowly pledge; barefoot yet!
Despite the passage of time, Kay still hadn't grown accustomed to her humble status. Nor was she even trying to-at least not very hard-now that her affair with sweet-natured Diane Fordyce had begun to jell so nicely. Then too, she had become something of a power among her peers, a leader in the wing known as pledge-ghetto, often acting bossy toward the other kids. Many of them were weaklings who usually got pushed around anyway, bits of feminine fluff that hadn't yet learned how to stiffen themselves against the vagaries of the cruel world. Like that Hilary Rourke kid, corrupted by her self-indulgent aunt at home and then overwhelmed by the sorority indoctrination lectures, almost a form a brainwashing. They were lucky in a way, kowtowing to their upper-class overseers without feeling put upon; after all, wasn't that how pledges were supposed to act? Some of them even got a charge out of it, a masochistic sex-thrill of sorts. Still, it scarcely seemed right that someone in Kay's position should suffer under that same yoke of servitude, so vulnerable to the surrounding storm, the predatory jungle. Like tonight. Fair game for any cunt-hungry old huntress. Fair game-tender as a bunny rabbit and twice as helpless-fair game at what looked like the beginning of a wine-irrigated lesbian revel, an orgy to end all orgies ...
"Wake up, prettypuss. Looks like your mama is calling you. See her over there? Near the corner. I guess you'd better go, huh? To keep peace in the family. Even though you two aren't strictly a team yet, at least not permanent."
"Uh-huh, gotta go now. Diane is still the boss. Thanks for warning me-she's so small I didn't notice her, you know? I'm in your debt, eternally." Elated but feigning coy regret, Kay slipped free of the pudgy-hot hands and stood up. "It's been fun, Ursula, thanks again."
"Uh, maybe I'll see you later."
"I-I'm not sure. It's up to Diane. I'm wondering how come she left me alone even this much."
"Yeah. You're a cute kid. And smart, too, you'll be a big wheel in the sorority in a couple of years. I could sure use someone like you-and I don't mean just for sex, either. No pressure, of course, but if you and Diane Fordyce ever break up, just remember me. I'll always have room in my heart for you. And room in my bed, if you're ever curious and want to find out how a big fat broad knows so much about cute little pussycunts. I might surprise you."
"No, thanks. I'm not the curious type."
"Is that so? Too bad." The beady eyes turned fierce, almost frightening in their intensity. "Better watch your step, baby. Smart is okay, but don't get smart-ass and blow your chances. If you know what I mean ... "
As her eyes adapted to the darkness, Merle got comfortably settled on a floor cushion. In this room the atmosphere was less festive, but nobody seemed to mind'. Only one flickering candle was lit, barely enough fire to point up the details of that wistfully watching face. Not a very pretty face really, no beauty at all there-except for the red hair, coppery red in the candlelight, much redder than her own deep auburn. But if Ardith's judgment was correct-and when had it ever been wrong?-whatever this kid lacked in one way, she made up for in another. With credentials like that, docile and pigeon-plump Hilary Rourke might well be destined for greatness-or great popularity, surely-in her career as a sorority girl, serenely aglow with enthusiasm even in all this sinful secrecy. Merle felt herself growing increasingly confident, her doubts diminishing with every heartbeat. Nor was she at all dubious about how to begin this campaign for conquest.
"Do tell me, Hilary my dear, how did you enjoy your evening with Ursula Baum?"
"Oh. You-you know about that?"
"Of course. Now answer my question."
"I'm only a pledge, ma'am-respectful and obedient at all times, no matter what. I enjoyed my evening with-"
"Shit! Forget the rules, let's have the truth."
"I-I couldn't. Rules are rules. I wouldn't want to say anything mean about her. You-know-who. It-it really wasn't so bad after I got started."
"Yeah, sweetie, I get the message. I won't press you for a play-by-play rundown. Hmm. I'll bet it was a pretty hairy experience for you, though."
The youngster shuddered. "Hairy ... "
"The way you say that. Now I don't know if we'll get along well or not. I'm kind of hairy myself."
"Oh. But that's you, Merle. It's okay."
"It better be. But don't worry, I'm not that hairy. Here, take a look. Wait a minute, let me get these off. There now! Only it's too dark to tell, isn't it? I'm afraid you'll just have to bend right down and ... uh ... "
"Oooh, let me! I can see it. Let me, let me. Let me suck your pretty cunt. Let me kiss-"
"Hey, you're a hot one. Do it, you hot little cuntlapper, do me some good and I'll cream a mouthful. Suck, suck, suck!"
The noise struck her own ear and Merle glanced around to check for possible eavesdroppers. But all the streaks and shadows seemed quite busy-and her voice could hardly have been noticeable against all that rustling and moaning and panting for breath. Anyway, it was time to get more comfortably resettled on her cushion, bearing an extra burden now, charming but impetuous, that bent head nuzzling into the nook between her thighs.
Inside her the tongue was long and strong-as anticipated-and the tingling of her flesh began on cue, the first spark of a hundred skyrockets about to sizzle. As anticipated. But then, somehow, the tongue remained a tongue and the tingle only a tingle, no prelude to sizzling skyrockets. She recognized the lack of a certain something in the sensation, some missing ingredient. The kid was sure working, trying her best-and doing it well, no doubt-but the thrill simply wasn't there. No thrill, no involvement; it had all become almost impersonal now. Disappointing, to say the least.
A failure, then. But the truly wise person is the one who achieves wisdom even in such failure, and Merle knew only too well why the hot tingling had drifted down to her toes. She faked an orgasm and got rid of her tongue-proud little cuntlapper quickly, eager to verify and perhaps analyze this latest upheaval in her life. What the hell, as long as the party was still going on ...
It took only minutes, a hasty survey of the cabaret room-and then a signal brought the dear child running, little Nikki Zane with disheveled. blonde hair and eyes like dew-drenched violets. Nikki of the itty-bitty unskilled tongue that was somehow capable of eliciting the most intensely personal involvement. Merle spirited her away into the dark room hurriedly, rearranging the floor-cushions once again, a bit uncertain herself this time. Not that it mattered, of course, her perfectly attuned little lover knew exactly where to sit.
"Darling? Still want to take my sandals off?"
"Oooh, yes, is it all right?"
"Uh-huh. Go ahead."
"Oooh ... " Nikki was already undoing the straps clumsily, slowed down by an excited tremor in her fingers. Then, meekly hopeful, "Miss Winthrop? Merle?"
"What now?"
"I-I love your bare feet. I'd love to kiss them, But what you said earlier-about inviting me to your room ... "
"Well?"
"Does that still go? If I kiss your bare feet now, will you still invite me some time? So that we can be alone, just the two of us? And you'll let me do it a lot, maybe all night?"
Merle chuckled, pleased by the wistful entreaty. "I'm glad you asked. The answer is yes-but there's a condition, an absolute necessity. Are you listening? If we go on like this, it's got to be a secret. Just between you and me, our own private secret. You mustn't breathe a word of it to anyone else, not even your roommate or your best friend. Or any of the Magpies either-and that's breaking a rule, I mean both of us, keeping our own sexy secret, you know? We might even feel guilty about it. But there's no other way, honey-take it or leave it, those are my terms."
"I'll love our secret, Miss Merle. I'll treasure it. Mmm, you feet are so beautiful, so nice and smooth ... "
"Kiss, kiss, kiss."
It was different this time, almost a ritual, the silent swearing of a pact between them. Nikki carried each foot in turn up inside her pajama-top, cradling it affectionately with the warmth of her girlish bosom, the naked clasp of her breasts. And then lifting it to her lips in adoration, a kiss of solemn reverence, more like homage to some pagan goddess than a caress to gratify the. voluptuous urges of one thoroughly aroused sorority slut. Merle didn't mind, though, waiting with only a touch of sluttish impatience for the formal rite to end. Which it did eventually, but not until each newly bared foot had been greeted with devotion and accorded its proper ceremony. Then-and only then-did the sacred kiss-worship verge upon the profane, turning at last into a labor of love, the erotic variety, sensuous beyond belief, lewd enough to start a whole new trend in sapphic eroticism.
"Ah yes, darling, that's simply grand. I do love the way you're licking the soles. Such an intimate kiss, so private and personal, our own precious secret. Don't you think so? Do you like kissing the soles of my feet?"
"Oh, I love it, Miss Merle. With my tongue. Not just a kiss, though, a nice long lick. Umm, like this. There! Did you feel that, ma'am? Miss Winthrop? Merle?"
"I felt it. But if we're going to share secrets together, you'll just have to stop tripping over my name like that. Tell you what, there's a special form of address between girls like us-let's try it, shall we? Domina. You know what it means?"
"Uh-huh. Oooh, all the kids are talking about that. The new names. But wouldn't I be your dessous-girl then?"
"You know about that too, eh? I guess the pledge grapevine is still working overtime. But come now, we've already talked too much and it's a strain keeping my voice down to a whisper. Kiss my feet now, we'll talk more later. In my room."
"Later. In your room. Like this, Domina. I'll lick your feet and suck your pretty toes in my mouth ... "
Chapter 8
Behind the locked door of the housemother's quarters, an affair of great hilarity was in progress. Naked on her hands and knees, Jolene capered coltishly and crawled around with a burden on her back, the gleefully perched nude body of her lover; such a delicious burden! And such a delicious new game they were playing!
"Giddy-up, horsie, give me a good ride." Ardith punctuated her command with a sharp swat. "Come on, you can go faster than that. Canter. Trot. Gallop. Give me a nice ride or I'll really hit you, I'll blister your ass."
The slender young thighs were moist and perspiry, making a kind of sex-slick contact with Jolene's overheated skin. She strived valiantly-undisturbed by a small swing at her rump every now and then-utterly charmed by the inventiveness of her darling. Ardith never seemed to run out of ideas. Somehow she managed to infuse each clandestine meeting with an air of novelty-and with so much fresh spice added so often, their tempestuous romance showed no signs of waning. This, for instance-the "horsie" game-simple and childlike as it was, the playful romp combined laughter and excitement and would probably evolve into a pattern of sorts, an integral part of their future lovemaking. That was the way the little darling liked it. Every new stunt was repeated and improved upon and eventually incorporated among the old ones. And with each rendezvous there was always some unexpected twist, some bizarre pleasure to make the routine bigger and longer and more thrilling.
"Horsie, whoa!"
Jolene broke stride and came to a sudden stop. Too sudden. And in gales of merriment, they both collapsed upon the thickly carpeted floor. About time, too-her poor knees were beginning to ache. But she really didn't mind that. Not any more. Not when she could reach out and pull her precious sweetheart close ...
"Hey, don't be so grabby."
"Let me."
"Greedy bitch!"
"Greedy for your pretty cunt."
"Again? So soon? Right here on the floor?"
"Anywhere. Love it."
"Can't wait, huh? Oh, well ... "
Recognizing assent, Jolene moved swiftly to nuzzle at the blonde belly-tuft, sinking lower as the odor of hot young girl-flesh rose to envelop her senses in its intoxication. Silent lips bade her welcome, the dewy-damp lips of a dewy-damp vulva; she kissed the lips and then went between them and beyond, into the silk-fringed cleft, the hollow that tightened upon her tongue. Murmuring softly, ecstatically, she foraged around for the sweet little clit-nubbin with an anxious tongue-tip and a wealth of good intentions, bent on bestowing the best of tender loving care ...
"Oh shit, I just thought of something- I'm supposed to tell you, Jolene, it just popped into my mind. What a dumb time to remember, huh? Sorry, honey."
"Hmmmm?"
"Slow down, will you? Stop a minute, let's talk."
"Umm, okay. If you insist." Jolene came up reluctantly but remained within sniffing range, turning sideways and resting her cheek upon one satiny thigh, caressing it with her face as she caressed the tangly hair with her fingers. "All right, what's so important that you had to interrupt?"
"It's that kid sister of mine. Ginger."
"What about her?"
"Well, she wants to come for another visit. My folks actually suggested it, they're going out of town next weekend and don't like leaving the kid by herself."
"So? I'm sure you can find room for her. What's the problem? Since when do you need my permission?"
"Uh, not your permission exactly. Something more. An invitation, you might say. Jolene, you scared her last time; now the poor kid won't come unless I check with you first. Only not just to okay it, you know? She wants a date with you, how about that?"
"A date with me?"
"Yeah. That's the only way she'll feel welcome, she says. The only way you two can be friends again. And believe me, when that rascal Ginger makes up her mind ... "
"Silly little brat."
"Aw, she's not that bad. Why don't you give her a tumble? I'll bet you'd go wild in bed with her, the two of you together really making it. That cute little mouth of hers-"
"Oh hush! Ardith, you're embarrassing me."
"Cute little mouth between your legs. Think it over. But okay, I'll shut up-we can talk about it later. Time to concentrate on this now, huh?"
The slim white thighs rose and closed around Jolene's head for a poignantly sweet moment, a moment of eager intimacy. She loved the sensation, the dark warmth, the musky sensuality, the engulfing frenzy of flesh; it was as if she had become part of this beautiful young body. As if this wet cunt and her own equally wet face were all one and the same. She could hear purring noises distantly from above, jubilant little gurgles that added an extra dimension to her pleasure. And yet, despite the marvelous feeling, she was still very much aware of the apparently unfinished discussion, aware of just how contentious her stubborn sweetheart could get in times of discord and disagreement. Difficult and contentious and all-too-often quite convincing. Which meant, of course, that any argument over Ginger would only be resolved in the usual manner; wasn't it already a foregone conclusion?
Jolene shivered, extremely conscious of her dilemma even in the midst of this flurried delight. Oh, what the hell, all her troubles would be over soon, it would all grind to a screeching halt in a few more months. Until then why not join the fun, why not go out with a bang instead of a whimper? Let the kid come, let the precocious brat come and do her worst! Hmm. Or her best? Cute little mouth between my legs ...
Suppressing her true feelings was hardest of all, and Kay could practically hear her stretched nerves twanging, set a jangle by the scrape of that shrill voice. But she had managed to maintain a solemn I and mildly penitent expression through the initial : shock of the tirade, dazed if undaunted-an I actress playing her role-so it scarcely seemed logical to throw a temper tantrum at this late stage of the game. Only it wasn't late exactly, not with Diane still carrying on like that; oh shit, this was just the beginning!
Anyway, whatever anger Kay had-the rage, the sense of outrage-would hardly have been suitable directed against the injured and highly aggrieved victim. The fault lay with Hilary and no one else, Hilary Rourke the squealer, a girl who just didn't know when to keep her big fat mouth shut, and even that was more to be pitied than censured, sheer stupidity, no doubt; after all, she couldn't have done it vindictively, could she?
But it was done nevertheless, regardless of the whys and wherefores-the gossip had circled back to its source-and now Diane knew that she had been "slandered" by her trusted pledge. Think of the stigma, the scandal! Even if the so-called slander was accurate, think of the shame! For which poor Kay had to take the blame, of course, having been indiscreet enough to brag a little about her triumph, the success of her domineering ways, the topsy-turvy love affair that all but obliterated the official guidelines of their relationship within the sorority. No wonder she could only grit her teeth and act contrite in silence, duly chastened by all that harsh criticism. She just couldn't afford to be bossy now. Worse yet, she couldn't afford to show any indignation over her fluffy-type lover's sudden trend toward bossiness. Nor could she even begin to figure out how to quell the silly hassle and go about regaining the upper hand again.
For the moment, Kay had been reduced to the lowly rank of room cleaner. Clad in her tight jeans, she was busily dusting the book-shelves while her naked taskmistress lounged upon the bed and made carping remarks. Frosty as the atmosphere was, no one could have been totally oblivious to the other thing-familiar but not quite admissible-an undercurrent of sex.
Diane Fordyce looked her usual flawless self, small-boned and exquisitely feminine as ever. The deliberate display of nudity had its purpose, Kay realized, it was supposed to get her hot and hopeful enough to beg forgiveness. Or at least to bed for a taste of that provocatively flaunted flesh. Either of which she might have gladly done, had there been any solid merit to the idea, a foundation for something better. But no, she could only continue to play the remorse-stricken young boy-husband and apologize in that vein, nothing more serious than soothing a girl-wife's ruffled feathers. A complete surrender-breaking down to the point of begging-would only end up destroying the beauty of their romance, creating an insurmountable barrier for themselves, a change too radical to suit either well-defined personality. Or so Kay figured. Temporarily then, she had to remain cool and calm and somewhat detached, always in character despite the tenor of this uneasy charade. Although she sure wished that sharp voice would lose its edge soon; the dainty little hot-assed hellion was sounding more and more like a nagging wife, an old nag with hardly anything new to say. Kind of like a broken record ...
"I still haven't made up my mind what to do about you. But it will have to wait, I suppose-just like everything else, Kay, all waiting for the same black cloud to pass. Waiting until we can get this thing thrashed out between us."
"Oh shit, what's to thrash out? I goofed, that's all. So now I'm in the doghouse, licking my wounds. Or maybe you want to hear me howl?"
"Thanks a lot. When you do open your mouth, all I get is shitty sarcasm. Which we can both do without."
"Okay. I'm sorry." Flashing her best sincere smile, Kay put out a feeler toward reconciliation. "Anyway, how could I be sarcastic and still feel so sexy? The way you're lying there naked ... "
"Sexy, eh? Forget it. Just keep on working. You're probably sexy for your friend with the red hair. The chubby one. Hilary what's-her-name. Or any of a dozen little bosom friends around pledge-ghetto. Cunt-buddies, you know? I daresay you've got yourself a harem down there."
Kay muttered a curse under her breath. More nagging. As if the red-haired blabbermouth was even important. Or any of the other kids, for that matter. Although it did sound kind of funny, almost prophetic, to hear them called a harem. Her cue to switch away from that touchy subject, even if it meant swallowing the rest of her pride.
"Please don't talk like that, darling. I'm sexy for you, same as always. Hot for your beautiful body. But I guess there's no use repeating it over and over, is there? You don't believe me, you just don't believe a word I say."
"True. I don't believe you. But maybe I'll take pity and give you a chance to prove it. Come over here, baby butch, I might as well make use of that deceitful tongue of yours. Come here and show me how sexy you are. Or how phony."
Seething inwardly, Kay bit her lips in desperation, stung by the epithets and enraged even more by her inability to strike back. To be labeled phony was humiliating indeed. The dominant side of her nature sparked to life as she advanced upon the nude figure asprawl on the bed. Her fingers crisped to fists ominously, adding a certain menace to her already mannish pose ...
"Well? Don't just stand there. On your knees!"
Kay shuddered in anguish, startled and utterly demoralized by the 'knifelike slash of the command. It cut into her ego and drew blood, forcing her to remember once again that she was still just a pledge in the sorority. A pledge out of favor, worse luck. No, she couldn't rebel against the system-or even defy this one tiny part of it, fragile enough to shatter in a pillow-fight. Not until the moment was ripe for it, another turnabout. And that seemed almost remote now, centuries away.
"All right, you sexy dyke, suck my cunt. And do it to please me, not yourself. You hear?"
"Oh! Yesss ... ummm ... "
"Treacherous little bitch. I ought to beat you. But I'm not much for that sort of thing. Still, you do need discipline, something to teach you humility-and that's a problem. I'll have to farm you out for a while, put you on temporary duty under one of the slave-drivers in the house, that should do it. Yeah, kid, someone like Ursula Baum. Oh wow, talk about a slaved river!"
"Hmmm?"
"I finally got through to you, huh? Fine, fine. Let me tell you about Ursula, so it won't be such a shock. You'll start by cleaning her bathroom, especially the toilet bowl-she, always breaks in a new girl that way. And just wait till you suck that big cunt of hers, you never saw such a hairy bush!"
Groaning aloud, Kay buried her face in the perfumed flesh and wondered what that other stench would be like. Sweaty, of course, The big hairy cunt of Ursula Baum, a sweat-soaked mess ...
"Hey, don't ease off down there, you're supposed to be a pretty fair cuntlapper, isn't that so? Eat it, baby, lap up the goodies, eat my candy and show some appreciation. I doubt if you'll find Ursula this tasty."
Chapter 9
The secrecy did make it more exciting, although Nikki couldn't see why it was so important. Nor could she feel guilty about it, either, at least not like her darling Domina. But that too only added to the excitement-as if they were doing something terribly wrong-and anyway, it was nice to know that the door was safely locked and the blinds drawn ...
"My sweet dessous-girl. Isn't that what you are?"
"Mmm. Your dessous-girl."
"My dessous-girl who loves my feet."
"So much, Domina. I love them so much!"
"Good girl. Here. Lick ... "
Nikki accepted her task eagerly, avidly. Her tongue laved the soles, bring a responsive gasp of approval and sending a hot thrill all the way down inside her belly. Hot and wet. All hot and wet and excited-so soon?-just from worshiping her Domina's bare feet. Domina Merle's beautiful bare feet. Her lips parted moistly around the toes that wriggled into her mouth, taking time to suck on each one in turn.
"In between, darling. Your tongue between my toes."
"Umm, yes, Domina. Pretty toes."
"Darling ... "
It was nice to be called darling by her beloved Domina. That too gave her a kind of thrill, more sugary than sexy. But no thrill in the world could compare with this. And now Nikki couldn't just remain crouched any longer, she had to flatten herself out to bury her mouth more completely in joyous devotion. She trembled and twitched in mounting rapture as the sole of the other foot glided sensuously over her naked back.
"Oh, you do love my feet! Tell me something, Nikki dear, would you like to take care of them for me?"
"Take care of them? Oh. You mean do the nails, huh? I'd love to. And everything else, too. I know how. Whatever needs doing, you know? A real pedicure."
"You can give a pedicure? How marvelous!"
"It's not so much. Just a matter of rubbing your feet with lotion first to get them all softened up-that's the secret. After that, everything is easy. I used to do it for my sister. Uh, well, she wasn't exactly my sister ... "
"Hey, how about right now? We've got time. And there's loads of polish and stuff. Creams and lotions, too. How about it, honey, want to give me a pedicure?"
"Uhphuh. Sure. But first ... uh ... "
"Hmm?"
"This? Could I just lick the soles a little more?"
"Darling! Do! Lick, lick ... " Then, all too soon, "Let's save some of that for later, shall we? Come on. We'll dig out the equipment and get organized. Nikki?"
Stirred to action, Nikki giggled an apology 'and offered her services submissively and yet with a certain pride. After all, this was something she really knew about-pedicures and such-and she quickly took over the details of getting set up. It didn't take very long. And then, with the preliminaries over-seated on the floor and cradling a bare foot in her lap-she began her intimate assignment solicitously and with a skill born of obvious experience.
"You're good, sure enough. I can see that. You say you used to do it for your sister?"
"Uh-huh. She wasn't my real sister, though."
"Did you like her feet? Was she the first one? I mean, uh, how did you get started on this kick? Tell me about it."
"It-it's a long story."
"Tell me anyway, huh? What was she, a half-sister?"
"Not even that much. No blood kin at all. Her mother married my father, that was now we got together. But do you really want to hear about her? Domina?"
"Yes. Entertain me while you're doing my feet."
"Well ... okay, I'll try to remember. She was a year younger than me, younger and prettier and kind of a pet around the house, always getting her way. Yvette, her name was, and I must have been pretty jealous at first. But that didn't matter and I just did my best to be nice to her, even pampering her a little, you know?"
"How come? Did you feel sexy toward her?"
"Something like that. How could I help it? She used to tease me all the time, running around almost naked-just between her room and mine. Like after a shower, for instance, coming in with just a big bath towel wrapped around her. And then maybe sitting on the edge of my bed and crossing her knees and practically losing the towel right in front of me. Doing it on purpose, too."
"She sounds bitchy. Nikki, why didn't you tell her off?"
"I-I couldn't. By that time I was hooked on her. I didn't know it, though, I had no idea what was happening to me. I'd just look at Yvette and feel funny inside and could never understand why. I'd get all uptight over it, wondering what made me go all gooey every time we were alone like that."
"Oh. Poor baby. So what happened?"
"Well, she came in when the folks were out one night-just for a chat, she said-and all she had on was a pair of bikini panties. I got nervous and told her to put on a robe or something, but she'd already seen me looking at her kind of sexy; anyway, she just went on teasing me, sticking her bare tits in my face almost. And then all of a sudden she was standing there alongside the bed and actually shoving a nipple into my mouth, and I just gave up and started to suck like crazy."
"Your first time?"
"First time. Sucking it, Yvette's tit-like I was in heaven, that was how good it felt. Only then she backed away and I fell off the bed reaching for her. Bam, right on the floor. My knees hit first and I still couldn't reach her; she took another step backward and I lunged and toppled over. Flat on my face. I saw stars for a minute and then I saw something else, something close enough to make contact with, even close enough to kiss, no more than a little wiggle away. I didn't think of it as her foot, it was just her, it was Yvette-and before I knew it, well ... "
"Hey! Don't you dare quit now."
Nikki's voice had quavered to a breathless halt. She coughed once and murmured apologetically, not quite bold enough to look up and judge the effect of her story. Her eyes remained fixed as she worked on the toenails with painstaking precision. Only she didn't have to see any facial expression up there, she could tell just from the touch of her fingers on these already impatient feet. Pretty feet, not yet finished, twitching in excitement ...
"Come on, honeybunch, I'm waiting. You kissed her foot, huh?"
"I kissed her foot. Only I didn't realize it myself until Yvette suddenly began telling me. Oh, how she told me! She kept saying that was where I belonged, licking her feet like a slave. And she must have been right, because that's what I was doing, licking her feet and feeling like some kind of slave girl. I lost track awhile and didn't know it was over until she started tugging at me. Only it wasn't over, just the part about kissing her feet. I hated to leave them, but by that time she was hauling me up 'by the hair, I mean she had me halfway up her legs and was snarling and cursing and hollering orders. Telling me to eat her pussy. And I did it, of course, I just nosed right up between her thighs and helped her skin out of the bikini panty and then dived right into her muff and did it. I ate her good. I sucked my sister's cunt. Only all the, while I was doing it-"
"Enough. Don't tell me any more."
"No?"
"It's too much. I'm liable to pop my cork."
Mildly disappointed, Nikki recalled other events in the story, things she would have liked to talk about. But that could wait. And this wasn't bad at all, this aroused and intensely erotic mood that they both shared.
"Me too, Domina. I'm as excited as you are. Just give me another few minutes to finish up and-"
"No, don't rush. Do a good job."
Nikki continued her work, buffing and polishing the jewel-like toenails almost possessively now, elated by her accomplishment and proud of the expertise that had contributed so much. With her own two hands, she had banished imperfections and restored all this beauty to its peak of brilliance. Then too, she hadn't done badly as an entertainer either, keeping her beloved Domina Merle awake and alert and very much interested. Even now, lounging on the bed with one leg extended lazily, there were no signs of drowsy lassitude anywhere on that voluptuously fleshed figure. Oh shit, right this minute they were both waiting ...
"Almost finished, darling?"
"Just about. This one still might be tacky, though."
"Blow on it, blow on the nails, huh?"
Glad to help end the suspense, Nikki bowed her head and pursed her lips and blew a sustained stream of air upon the freshly lacquered toenails. Soon the deep breathing made her brain whirl, affected by the heavy oxygen intake; her eyes glazed over and everything seemed to go a bit hazy. It wasn't at all unpleasant, though. Even the haze had taken on extra color and character, a rosy hue, almost as rosy as the new polish. Until at last, impetuously-after a final swipe with the buffer-she bent low and pressed her lips to the top of one perfectly pedicured foot.
"Ah ... you darling girl ... "
"Hmm? All right now?"
"Kiss my feet. Kissss!"
"Umm?"
"Like that. The soles. Just like that. Oh, I love it, I love the way you lick me with your tongue."
"I love it, too. It makes me feel so hot. I love to kiss your beautiful feet. And I'll always take care of them for you, I'll be around whenever you need me."
"Of course. You're my dessous-girl."
"And you're my Domina."
"Oh, you sweet darling. Kiss, kiss. With your lips and your mouth and your tongue. And you shall have my feet forever and ever, no one else but you ... "
Nikki went on kissing the quivery white flesh, aware that a great honor had been conferred upon her. Aware too that something was happening inside herself. Oooh, she was beginning to feel it again, the heat down there in her own cunt, more than ever now! All hot and wet. Sexy! And getting wilder now, hotter and wetter and sexier every time she opened her mouth wide and invited Domina Merle's toes to squirm a little deeper; wasn't it wonderful to be the dessous-girl of someone so divine?
Chapter 10
After waiting so nervously, Jolene was already conscious of the excitement burgeoning within her body. Then when the knock finally sounded and the kid came in, it was like an added jolt, quite unexpected, a jolt of pure pleasure. Smiling prettily, cute little Ginger Lorimer was carrying a tray laden with glasses and a big wine bottle in a bucket of ice.
"See? I even brought you a present. Champagne. Now aren't you glad you invited me? Pink champagne."
"Thank you. But where did you get it? Aren't you a bit too young to be buying ... uh ... "
"Oh, I didn't have to buy it. My folks have cases of the stuff around. They won't miss one bottle."
"But you don't drink, do you? At your age-"
"Why not? A glass or two can't hurt me." Ginger pouted almost wistfully. "Unless you'd rather I didn't, of course. I just thought it might be nice for both of us. Kind of a celebration."
"Nice but naughty, hmm? Oh well ... "
"It's not chilled enough yet. I'll have to twirl it in the ice bucket for a few minutes, okay?"
"Go ahead. It's your gift, my dear. You handle it."
"Uh-huh. You just relax ... "
Far from relaxing, Jolene felt the warmth of her young visitor's gaze and realized that the big doe-like eyes were following her, aglow with admiration. The kid was twirling the champagne without watching her busy hands. Inwardly aflame, Jolene moved around the room with feigned nonchalance, her hips swaying with every step. Her breasts jiggled. She knew only too well how much of her flesh was visible through the gauzy fabric of her negligee. And how shapely her legs were, perched on the fluffy mules. She had even been deliberately lavish with makeup, making herself look seductive. Although she couldn't help wondering just who was seducing whom. The gift, for instance-champagne, imagine!-even more obvious than flowers or candy. Pink champagne had such sexy connotations ...
"You're so pretty. I love your blue eyes."
"Me? Pretty? It's sweet of you to say so, Ginger. But I'm an old woman now, I lost my looks years ago. Too darn flabby."
"You're beautiful. You really are. Your figure, too."
Jolene came close to blushing. Such a deliciously spicy thrill, exhibiting her mature body to a young undeveloped girl-child and luxuriating in the flow of flattery. Although the kid's youthfulness didn't seem so significant somehow, not when she twirled the bottle like a veteran of long standing. No cause for guilt, anyway.
"You do that well, Ginger."
"This? It's my first time, actually. But I've seen it done often enough. Should I open it now?"
"Please do."
The cork popped and the wine fizzed and the mood became downright convivial. The youngster made the almost anticipated remark about the bubbles tickling her nose, stirring Jolene to laughter. She took over the pouring duties herself, filling both glasses the instant they were drained.
"I-I guess it's okay, huh? The champagne?"
"Fine. Just fine. But you really shouldn't have brought it, darling. It's practically stealing, even if you did get the bottle from your own home."
"Oh. You're right. I just wanted to do something to show you how sorry I am."
"Sorry? About what?"
"You know. The last time, remember?"
"Hmm. I do remember. Such a naughty baby. As a matter of fact, I think you were naughty to steal the champagne, too. But you needn't be alarmed, I'm not going to spank you again."
"Whew! That's a relief." Ginger grimaced wryly, patting her bottom in mock despair. Then, with a noisy smack of her lips, "And that last one was just over a kiss wasn't it?"
Even in a simper the pink lips were charming, thicker and shinier and more sensuous than Jolene recollected. The sight of that ripe mouth in such a childish face was exhilarating. Especially since it was becoming quite clear now that she could demand just about anything of those luscious pink lips. Mmm, wouldn't it be nice to have all that fresh young beauty between her thighs? The cute tilted nose, the brown eyes with their long lashes, the tousled reddish-blonde mop of hair; such an appealing youngster! The suntan had faded somewhat since the summer-no great change, but enough to make her resemblance to Ardith more noticeable. Ginger wasn't as beautiful, of course, but there were certain other compensations in her apologetic demeanor, her apparent eagerness to please. That was the kind of little lover to have around-all obedience and no trouble-just dying to be told what to do.
"Only a kiss, eh?" Slowly, balancing her glass, Jolene sank back on the bed. The slinky negligee slithered open. "Come closer, you naughty girl. As long as we're on the subject of kisses ... "
"Oooh, yes!"
"Not like that, silly."
"Huh?"
"Not like last time. Here!"
"Oh!"
"Don't you want to?"
"Uh-huh. Sure." The pink lips parted, glistening. "But there's still some more to drink ..."
"Set yours down, you've already had enough. I'll finish the rest of it. After all, you did bring it for me, didn't you? So just put your glass down, don't let that stop you, Ginger. I know how impatient you must be. Good girl. Now for that kiss, the kiss we've both been waiting for. Come on."
"Uh, shouldn't I get undressed first?"
"Just for a kiss? I want that pretty mouth of yours, never mind anything else, Here, darling, kiss me and make up for that other time. Ah yes, that's the way!"
"Umm ... "
"Do it nice, though. Nice and gentle-so I won't be spilling any of this precious champagne. If I do, you'll just have to lick it up, every precious pink drop, you hear?"
"I-I will. I'll lick you dry. Whatever you say."
"Will you? Come then, smother me with kisses. Give me your pretty lips. Your mouth. And your tongue. Oooh! Your tongue, your tongue ... "
A whimper sounded, but Jolene ignored it and pushed the folds of her negligee aside. The face burrowing into her crotch was warm and urgent, the lips fastening greedily, sealing in and centering the thrust of that tongue. Surely this was no innocent babe-in-arms succumbing to seduction, no stranger to the gay sisterhood, not even a very recent initiate-youth to the contrary! And there was something else to consider too, another clue to past experience-the twisting and turning of that small body, seemingly spontaneous but still just a sneaky maneuver toward the well-known 69 position. Accompanied by more whimpering, quite hopeful now. All of which Jolene was pleased to ignore, sighing smugly and managing to avoid the issue, thinking only of her own pleasure-my cunt, my suck-kissed cunt!-as that smooth-cheeked young face lavished its shower of sweet-lipped caresses down there. Soon she would strip naked and take full advantage of that coquettishly ripe mouth. Crush that cute tousled head between her thighs. But no hurry, no hurry at all, there was time yet. Time and plenty of champagne. It was going to be a long night, an exquisite night, a night of bubbly pink champagne and burning pink lips ...
One date with the kid was all that Jolene had bargained for, but a lot of sucking and a little wheedling was enough to change her mind. And she was glad now, too-on this, their final night together, the sweet child seemed wistfully affectionate. Hardly the same Ginger Lorimer who had breezed in carrying champagne on ice; what a shock yesterday, the dewy-eyed youngster with such an adult burden. Jolene still couldn't get over it. Nor did she feel very rational about any of last night's episode, for that matter-simple as it might have been-not even the blackout ending, the pre-dawn hour when that kiss-swollen young mouth ducked down between her legs again and literally nibbled her into a state of ecstatic exhaustion. She could only recall the whole thing as a kind of lovely dream.
Tonight was no dream, though, not in the midst of all this very real affection. They were like old acquaintances now, both naked but more friendly than sexy. Jolene lay on her stomach and quivered under the softly stroking palms. How nice to be treated like this, so gently, so tenderly; the little angel was even tossing out compliments again, still enraptured by this intimacy with such a voluptuously proportioned female body.
Purring contentedly, Jolene basked in the combined warmth of the endearing hands and flattering words, offering only a mildly modest rebuttal. "Oh, you can't mean that, darling. I'm a middle-aged woman practically, I just don't have that kind of fascinating figure any more."
"Well, it's fascinating to me. I do mean it. Only I wasn't thinking of your figure as a whole, I'll admit-not just then, anyway. I'll have to cut you up into sections maybe, huh? Cut you up and keep my favorite part for myself ... " A small palm synchronized itself to the tag-line, swinging down with an emphatic slap. "You see, I was thinking of this."
"Ouch! Must you be so demonstrative? I mean, uh, just because you think my big bottom is pretty ... "
"Not just pretty. It's beautiful. You have a beautiful ass."
"Hmm. Too bad it's attached. What are you going to do about it, chop me apart with an ax? I hope not."
"Nope. I know what I'd like to do, though."
"Oh?" Jolene held her breath. Was the kid hinting at something, a new and different kiss for the occasion? "Darling, don't keep me in suspense. What would you like to do?"
"Aw ... forget it ... "
"That's silly. Now that we're this close, why be bashful? Is there something special, something you can't talk about?"
"Uh, well, it's kind of weird, but I might as well say it. I was looking at your bare ass and petting it and admiring it-and then all of a sudden it was just too beautiful, you know what I mean?"
"Too beautiful?"
"Uh-huh. All round and smooth and perfect. Fascinating, that's the word. Oh shit, I'm almost ashamed to tell you. Jolene, I got the urge to spank it."
"You did? Darling? Was that why you-"
"Please, no more questions. I'll be embarrassed to tears if we keep talking about it. That one little swat I gave you, it was like I didn't even know what was happening. Just an impulse. And then I wondered if it was some sort of revenge ..."
"Revenge? Oh. For that time I spanked you. Poor kid. I hope you don't still bear a grudge against me for that."
"Of course not. Couldn't you tell last night, the way I tried to be so nice to you? Bringing the champagne and all? And then working so hard to make you happy in bed-sucking your cunt, you know? No grudge, nothing like that-even though you're still one-up on me. I swatted you for no reason at all. On an impulse, land of, what more can I say?"
Some impulse. Jolene smiled sympathetically. Not exactly the impulse she might have wished for, darn the luck, but she still couldn't let the poor mixed-up tyke go on feeling guilty about it. Besides, it was a familiar erotic amusement, shocking only to an outsider. Or to an inexperienced beginner ...
"It's so beautiful. I'm still fascinated. Better put it out of my sight, Jolene, or I'll get the urge again. Roll over before I spank that big beautiful ass of yours." Then, in a tone of anguished frustration, "Oh, I'm so embarrassed!"
"You needn't be. It's all right."
"But-but I feel like such a freak."
"Nonsense. There are many girls-and grown women, too-who enjoy spanking and being spanked. It's really quite common, my dear. Nothing to be ashamed of."
"Oh, sure. That's easy for you to say. Only it doesn't change the situation any, does it? Listen, if you don't roll over ... "
"Go ahead, angel. I'm not scared."
"Huh? You mean it? I'm liable to hurt you."
"I doubt that. I've got a well-cushioned ass. If it pleases you, spank away. Don't worry about me, just have fun."
"You're so good to me! I'm really excited, you know?"
Jolene stifled a gasp of exultation, aware now that she had made the right move. This wasn't her kick, of course-not in any form or variation-but she was happy to oblige if it led to bigger things. If the kid got carried away and hit hard enough, well, contrition would probably set in afterward, the kind of contrition that might easily resolve itself in soothing kisses. How could it miss? And then wouldn't it be simply grand to feel those soft ripe girl-lips doing penance on a pair of already inflamed ass-cheeks?
The spanking began. Gently, dubiously, at first-but then Jolene wiggled her up-ended backside impatiently and after that, oooh, it started hurting sure enough, it hurt like blazes! But she didn't mind the inconvenience of a warm ass when everything else looked so rosy, no, she just didn't mind at all. It was fun, in a way, more fun than she had figured on. She felt the inner fires glowing and growing with every slap, sending up moans and groans that refused to be muffled. And yet, hearing her own animal noises, she knew only a strange sexual excitement, a thrill beyond the scope of her reason-it was happening now, she was getting hot!
Somehow, miraculously, the sweet angel-child understood. The spanking had stopped and now the energetic hands were switching from pain to pleasure. Two hands, one curving up into her cunt from below, the other penetrating from behind, digging into her ass, right up inside the tight little hole. How those hands were moving! In and out, in and out, both hands driving her crazy. And then quitting suddenly, leaving the recesses of her flesh; where now? Where had those wonder-working hands gone?
The answer came soon enough.- Jolene struggled to suppress a shriek as the hands went back to spanking her already blistered buttocks. Walloping hard again. That fiendish little minx sure had the technique down pat. Such teasing. Monstrous! Marvelous! And now back to the two-handed fucking once more, the fingers deep, deep, squirming around in her seething cunt and jabbing into her stretched asshole ...
"You're hot, huh? Good. Hot enough to suck my cunt?"
"Oh! Yes. Let me!"
"What a bitchy old bitch you are, Jolene. You sure didn't want my cunt yesterday, did you? Well, you can't have it tonight either, how about that? My ass is all you get. Here! Kiss it. Kiss my ass, make love to it with you mouth. Tongue. Now!" Then, scant moments later, "Don't you just love my nice smooth young ass? You do, I can tell. Nice tight little asshole. Nnngg. Just the right size for your tongue ... "
Chapter 11
If ever Kay Sturdevant felt the misery of pledgehood, this was the time. Even her snug jeans seemed a bit woebegone, droopy at the knees from so much bending. They were just a work outfit now, not pants to swagger around in and impress a wide-eyed bundle of feminine fluff with her boyishly slim masculinity. At the moment no one was even paying the slightest attention-for which Kay was duly grateful, considering the vulnerability of her status in this all but intolerable situation. Her sole aim in life was to finish scrubbing the bathroom floor and get the hell out of there while the getting was good. All in one piece, hopefully!
So she was glad to be alone and unnoticed, glad of the chance to complete the abhorrent task without further interruption. Now, luckily, she no longer had Ursula Baum hovering over her and watching every move with those beady eyes. Such a critical bitch! Just a few minutes ago some upper-class friends had dropped in and the fat slob had stopped supervising the work to go entertain them. They were out there now, lounging around the bedroom and chatting in comparatively hushed tones-Omega Magpies discussing their favorite topic, it sounded like. Dominas and dessous-girls, no doubt; what else was on their diabolical minds these days?
Even straining her ears though, Kay couldn't hear much, only a pertinent phrase here and there, along with some laughter-giggles from the guests and lewdly raucous bellows from the hostess. Such a loudmouth! But then their voices dropped a shade lower, too faint to come through except as an indistinct buzz, and she gave up listening to settle down and concentrate on her job.
Some job. Swabbing a bathroom. Ugh. And yet it was amazing how much the human mind and body could bear. Kay even found herself taking a certain pride in the way she stood up under her oppressive burden. Doing a lowly chore seemed easier when she made an extra effort to do it well. Repugnant as this assignment was, its detail-by-detail performance became less grim if she aspired to perfection, a sincere striving for excellence-her own private version of the power of positive thinking. It helped, somehow. A little more in this same vein and she might even begin to enjoy her menial labor, despite its drudgery and degradation.
"Hey! You in there!"
Kay shuddered. "Yes, ma'am?"
"How's it going? Got my crapper clean yet?"
"Yes'm. Just about, I think. Real clean. If you'd care to come and inspect ... "
"Damn right I'll come and inspect, kiddo." The bedsprings creaked alarmingly, evidence of Ursula's big bulk in motion. "And it better be good, you hear?"
Remaining on her knees, Kay tried to look as humble as possible-head bowed and eyes demurely lowered-hoping to placate the bossy bitch and get the ordeal over with in a hurry. She waited in silence as the inspection began, tense but quite confident of the outcome, aware of how thorough her endeavor had been. The place was absolutely immaculate; she had gone over every square inch of it with the utmost of care. Only the appraisal was taking so long ...
"Hmph!"
"Ma'am?"
"Pretty fair job, I must admit."
"Thank you. I did my best."
"Yeah. Not bad at all." Then, brusquely, "Hah What's this? Looks like you flubbed it here."
"I-I don't see ... "
"Right here, dummy! You blind or something?"
Kay followed the imperiously pointed finger. It was hard to hold her temper in check when she saw what Ursula Baum had become so surly about. Or one edge of the gleaming white toilet seat a tiny streak of cleanser had dried unpolished, an all but invisible flaw in an otherwise perfect surface. Not even a real flaw, for that matter-no dirt, just a spot of scouring powder. Criticism for the sake of criticism! But like the most docile of servants, Kay took her polishing cloth and made a couple of quick swipes and the so-called imperfection disappeared.
"There now. Does that pass inspection?"
"Hmph! Pledge, are you getting snotty with me?"
"N-no, of course not. I just did what-"
"I know what you did, dammit! But your attitude ... " Ursula shook her head. "It's what you didn't do that bugs me. I mean it bugs the shit out of me, baby! You didn't say you were sorry, you just didn't bother to mention that angle. I gave you a job to do and you pulled a boner, a little mistake. Okay, nobody's perfect. But then when I called your attention to it ... " Her voice trailed off in choked indignation, letting the thought hang while her foot tapped the floor ominously.
"Oh. I understand. I'm sorry, ma'm. I beg your pardon-for making a mistake and then for not admitting it and apologizing right away. I was wrong both times." Playing her servile role to the hilt, Kay lifted her hands in clasped supplication, assuming a posture of deference but praying only 'for speedy deliverance. "Will you forgive me just this once? I promise it won't happen again."
"Yeah. You're in my debt a little deeper. I forgive you. Just be sure to report to me every day. I'll always have something for you to do here. The John, if nothing else. Okay?"
"Uh-huh. Yes'm. Every day ...
"Unless you get orders to the contrary." Noise from the bedroom caught Ursula's ear; she turned and raised her voice. "Hey, gang, you leaving now? Hold it a minute, come here and take a look first, will you?" Then, swinging back with a fierce whisper, "Kiss my hand, kid. Quick now. While they come and see. Show them what a good pledge you are. Make me proud of you, huh?"
Nausea churned in Kay's stomach, but everything was happening too fast and too forcefully, calling for instant obedience or instant mutiny-a split-second decision beyond her immediate capacity. It seemed infinitely easier to remain in a daze and allow herself to be manipulated. Anyway, once begun, it was only another part to play-or the same one with a new twist, perhaps-and she pressed her lips to the back of the outstretched hand as their inquisitive audience peered in breathlessly. Only then did she lose her instinctive momentum long enough to notice how pudgy the flesh was, how coarse the skin. But she was already doing it by that time, kissing humbly, still on her knees; why run unnecessary risks, why jeopardize her future for the sake of pride? Far worse than this humiliation was the prospect of swabbing that damn toilet every day, the place where those big fat butt-cheeks sat and slopped over ...
"See how willing?" Ursula chuckled. "Ought to make a great dessous-girl, wouldn't you say? Provided she winds up with a Domina who can handle her. But this one's got a lot to learn yet, it's too early to tell. Oh well, at least she won't be strutting around like a boy any more. A boy too big for his britches, you know the type? Delusions of gender, that's what Ardith calls it."
The onlookers tittered gleefully. Kay flushed, recognizing the devastating insult in what had once been a source of vanity. The extended hand rolled over, probing at her lips with thick fingers that touched her tongue and turned slimy inside her mouth. And still she went on with the demanded kiss, gulping down her shame bravely and performing like a martyr. She was almost grateful for an audience now; all that girlish giggling was like a preventative barrier against anything more serious occurring.
"Okay, gang, show's over. Pull the door shut on the way out, make sure it's locked, will you? This kid still hasn't been tested under pressure. She licks fingers just fine, but that's enough fried chicken for now. Give us a little privacy, hmm?"
Still convulsive with a kind of lascivious mirth, the visitors trooped out somewhat reluctantly, casting backward glances and murmuring hilariously clever suggestions for the rest of the menu after finger-lickin' chicken. Dessert, especially. Hair pie? (Ursula's claim to fame, judging from the consensus of laughter!) Listening against her will, Kay could only shiver at the wretched humor and sink deeper into her morass of misery, painfully conscious of what this new predicament implied. But the others were gone and the outer door locked at last, offering at least some small bit of consolation-a soft bed instead of a hard tile floor. Already reconciled to her sad fate, she could scarcely wait for the command that would send her scurrying into the softness. Her poor knees needed a rest. Sex appeared inevitable at this point; let it be done in comfort, anyway, if not in the context of romantic lesbian love. Let's go, you lard-assed bitch, let's jump into bed and get it over with!
Alas, the command never came. Instead the unpredictable Ursula Baum tugged the bathroom door shut too, twisting the lock to seal off the tiny tiled-in area. It seemed like a needless gesture at first-locking the door inside a locked door-but then Kay felt its impact, a sensation of sheer helplessness, reducing her to a captive totally dependent upon the whim of her captor. All around them the house teemed with activity, but this little room was like a bank vault, impenetrable from the outside and inescapable from within, a place where time might stand still while the rest of the world rushed by. And wasn't that what hell was supposed to be like? Frightening, sure enough. Hell was a locked bathroom with a big fat beady-eyed she-devil for company ...
"Nice sexy atmosphere, huh? You ought to be naked though, a cute little cuntlapper kneeling naked at my feet-that's what I'd like to see."
"Oh. Do you want me to undress?"
"Don't bother, it would take too long. Skinning out of those tight pants ... " Ursula snorted scornfully. "Listen, kiddo, you can dress like a boy for Diane Fordyce, that's your business. And hers, I guess. But don't do it for me. From now on you come to work looking like a girl, understand? Wear shorts. Or a skirt. Put on a little makeup, too, I like a pretty cuntlapper serving me."
"Yes, ma'm. I'm sorry. I'll do better next time. But if you'd like me to, I can still get undressed and fix myself up right now. The jeans aren't that hard to take off."
"Forget it. I'm more interested in your tongue. Let's do it the easy way, no fuss, no muss." Grinning evilly, the big dark creature stripped her panties down and tossed them aside. "See how simple it is? I'm ready for you." Then, rucking up the hem of her dress, "Here's my hairy cunt, baby, let's get right down to the nitty-gritty. Do me some good. Oh, I'm going to love breaking in a smart-ass little slut-I'll teach you and train you and have you begging for more before we're through, believe me. Come on, you cuntlapper, strut your stuff right here, show me what you're good for besides cleaning shithouses."
It was big and black and bushy, out Kay had only a fleeting moment for any kind of objective evaluation, aware now that she herself was being judged mainly on the basis of her obedience to orders. Quelling a last-ditch qualm, she plunged her face into the thick growth and poked her tongue into the flesh beyond. Flesh that opened like a slobbery mouth to suck her in ...
"Yeah. Do it right."
Do it right? Was it just another task that she was supposed to perform? Would it be less horrible if she strove for perfection? The power of positive thinking? Was there of chance of convincing herself that she didn't loathe what she was doing? No. It seemed impossible. And yet she had found refuge in that kind of rationalization before; couldn't she find it again?
"Wait, kid. Look up here a minute."
"Umm. Hmm?"
"Maybe you think you're doing this for Diane! Well, you're not-even though she's the one who sent you here." Two hands went down in front of Kay's face, two fingers on each stretching the hairy lips wide apart. "Now get in there and suck. And remember it's me you're sucking, understand? You suck for Ursula."
Kay understood only too well, plunging back in and practically rubbing her nose in the suffocating mess. She struggled for breath momentarily, the big cunt seemed to be swallowing her. Oh, if only she could be eating Diane's sweet candy now! But that was the wrong way to approach this task, she realized, hardly the way to achieve excellence; what about that theory of hers?
Searching for the right spot, she used her tongue deftly and diligently. The response was noticeable and she persisted now, trying her best to hit the sensitive button and spur this huge body to a hasty orgasm. Anything to bring the ordeal to a halt. And for a while it almost worked, too, her own involvement actually making the dirty job less hateful.
"Not bad, baby. But let's try it like this ... "
Hands clutched Kay's head. Her tongue was disregarded and skill no longer appeared necessary, sending all her silly theories right down the drain. No more positive thinking. Only her face was being used now-used!-an object, a tool, an instrument of the big fat sweaty bitch's pleasure, a thing for that slimy twat to rub against, nothing more. Again she had to gasp for breath, smothered in fetid meat and all but asphyxiated by the stench.
"Yeah! Little fuckface ... here it comes!"
For one nauseous instant, Kay thought sure her stomach would revolt and upchuck all over the floor. But it passed, leaving only the sense of horror. Sucking and slurping, choking on the hot orgasmic juices that drooled out and over her chin, she wondered if anything in the world could be nastier than this. And then, vaguely-from the corner of one blurred eye-she saw the toilet, the seat where this loathsome hunk of blubber squatted every day to do its business. Ugh. She would be right back here again tomorrow, scrubbing the John and doing all these same nasty things, no doubt. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Apparently there were no limits on nastiness ...
Chapter 12
Despite the depressing reason for her heart's seductive costume, Jolene couldn't help but feel a tug of desire, fascinated by the contrast of the black lingerie against that milk-white skin. Ardith looked so lewd. Exciting. Especially the new shoes, black and shiny, with high pencil-thin heels. And the stockings, too, long dark nylons that clung snugly and seemed to stay up without any support. All topped off by that lustrously lovely blonde hair and those gorgeous green eyes. Simply stunning ...
"Well? You like?"
"I'm jealous, darling. Because you're dressing like that for your party and not for me."
"That's why I came here to get ready. I figured on spending some time with you first. And please don't complain about the Magpie party. With elections coming up soon, you know I've got to attend every social function and do some politicking-otherwise poor Merle won't stand a chance. She just can't campaign for herself."
Jolene shrugged, disguising her own attitude on that all-important issue, the election of next year's officers. From a personal point of view, she had already decided that Merle Winthrop would make a fine president, easy for a housemother to control. Fine for getting the house back in order again! As expected then, Ardith's graduation in June would herald the end of these wild goings-on. And meanwhile, well, cooperation seemed like the best course.
"I understand, darling. Go to your party. Tell you what, I'll even lend a hand-how would you like me to do your makeup?"
"Oooh, wonderful! You're such an expert at it. Where shall I sit? Is this okay?" Ardith parked herself on the dressing-table bench and tilted her face up. "Come on, make me look glamorous."
Smiling at such youthful exuberance, Jolene went to work on the pretty face, soon becoming engrossed in the project. She gave her imagination free rein, smearing the cosmetics on with a lavish but still artistic tendency toward the exotic. The green eyes intrigued her especially, emerald green with just the hint of a slant. Nice material for any artist ...
"Hey, you're really doing a job on me. Now I feel guilty for leaving you all alone. Guiltier than ever."
"That's a comfort. I'll enjoy your guilt."
"I'm serious, Jolene. And you know I'll be spending more and more time away from you until that darn election is over. You ought to have somebody to keep you company. Matter of fact, I've been thinking about that lately."
"Oh? You mean a substitute for yourself? No, thanks."
"Not a substitute, just company. Or better still, a girl you can use for any purpose you want to. Someone to run your errands, for instance. Or to clean up the mess I'm always making. Or for whatever-"
"Hush. Don't move your lips. And stop squirming while I get this part ... " Then, after an undistracted moment, "There, that's got it. Now. You were saying?"
"Lake a dessous-girl, that's what you ought to have. And I know just the right one for you, a real meek type."
"Silly. Darling, what would I want with a dessous-girl?"
"Oh, you'd figure something out, I'll bet. And you'd be doing the sorority a favor, too-keeping the peace, I mean. There are at least three actives arguing over this one kid, trying to hang on to her as a favorite. It could develop into a war. But if you stepped in and took her, well ... "
"I repeat-no, thanks. Hmm. A meek type, you say? Is that what makes her so popular? Who is she? Not that I'd recognize her by name."
"Forget it. If you're not interested ... " Ardith peered at her reflection in the triple mirror. "All finished, huh?" She rose abruptly, shoving the bench aside and then moving backward for a view that included her body. "Hey, that's terrific! Real sexy. Makes me look kind of mean though, doesn't it? The way you fixed my eyes, so slanty and narrow-don't they look mean?"
It was true. The exaggerated slant of the glowing green orbs added a touch of cruelty, turning the young face almost insolent. Or at least condescending, the expression of some ancient mandarin lady dealing with a houseful of servants. Cruel and yet with an excitement all its own somehow, an imperious charm that set Jolene's spine atingle with sensuously rippling thrills. She could only nod mutely, transfixed by the fantastic sight.
"Know something? I even feel mean now. Not exactly the mood for a party, huh?"
"Don't go, then. Darling? Stay here and-"
"Oh shit, don't tempt me, I've got to be there. And after putting on this costume and makeup ... " Scrutinizing her image from various angles, Ardith pouted and then frowned. "Is that a wrinkle back there? In the stocking. Hmph. Both of them. I guess maybe I should have worn a garter belt. But it's so uncomfortable." She started bending and then snapped upright again suddenly. "Come on, why don't you straighten them for me? Don't be so lazy. Kneel down and do it."
The sharp tone came as a shock, dazing Jolene momentarily, but she dropped to her knees and managed a beginning. She worked out the first lumpy ridge and then shifted to the other, this one tiny and all but invisible. Scent assailed her nostrils, making her wish that the assigned chore might never end. She tried to ignore it though, aware that only efficiency was required of her. Or was it? The way the pose seemed to change, the slender limbs Inching apart ...
"Right to the top. Smooth them out good." The stance broadened to a posture of alluring hauteur, almost an invitation. "I don't want to see a wrinkle anywhere."
Complying eagerly, Jolene slid her palms up each stocking from ankle to thigh. Above the double thickness her fingertips grazed nude skin, soft and satiny, heightening desire and forcing her to pause there and dally. Until a barely coherent moaning murmur escaped her lips before she could throttle it.
"Oh ... darling ... I'm so hot ...
"Just from touching my legs?"
"Pretty legs ... "
"And that's a pretty compliment. Enough to earn you a kiss or two or three. Long as you like my pretty legs so much."
Jolene kissed gratefully. A hand patted her head, then the fingers stopped caressing and clawed fiercely, taking a grip on her hair. She clutched at the backs of the nylon-clad knees, steadying herself as the expanse of bare thigh overwhelmed her senses. More dazed than ever, she rubbed her cheek into the scented skin, stroking upward toward a richer, source of such scent. Only to be stymied at last by the wisp of black fabric, fragile but nonetheless impregnable without permission, a veil of darkness that shielded the golden wealth within. To say nothing of the greater wealth beyond, too delicately pink and precious to be anything but a remote possibility at this point ...
"So it's my cunt you're hot for, not just my legs."
"Cunt ... legs ... everything ... "
"Ass too, I suppose. Well, don't get your hopes up. Just nibble around awhile, kind of break the new panties in, huh? I told you I felt mean, remember?-it's the makeup, your own fault. But don't give up hope altogether, I'm still thinking about giving you a little sneak preview of the party goodies. All my party goodies, lover. Just like I'm still thinking about a d-girl for you-and a lot less guilt for me. In case you should change your mind."
Dainty hairs poked through the mesh to tickle Jolene's nose and tease her into a near-tantrum of need. But still the barrier remained invulnerable, every tiny cross-thread backed up by law, a law enforced by the firm hold on her head. And now-only too conscious of her angel's fiendish tactics-she was already visualizing the bleak prospect of stronger barricades. Even permanent, perhaps. Certainly more permanent than her own shaky principles, at least until the end of this school year. Next year, well, that would be a different story. But why suffer in the meantime? What the hell, it might even be fun to play along. A dessous-girl of her own, imagine! A real meek type. A kid like dear old Sue Quigley of bygone days?
"Darling? I've changed my mind. That d-girl you picked out for me, who is she? What's her name? I'm interested."
"Uh-huh. I figured you might be. With me away so much. But let's pigeonhole it for now, I'll tell you about her later. You do want to take off my panties, don't you?" Then, with a giggle, "You'd better. They're darn near soaked through."
Jolene giggled, too, even more exhilarated as the offending garment was disposed of. And still the hand in her hair retained its leverage, tilting her head and guiding her face into position. Not that it was necessary. With no flimsy fabric to thwart her seeking mouth, it was a path she had pursued often and with joyous familiarity these past years. A familiar path into the astonishing novelty of one more unique and unprecedented erotic venture. One more candle to light-always new, always different!-at the shrine of her love. The cunt-shrine, eternal symbol of an eternal lesbian love, renewing itself as no ordinary fuck-marriage- complete with ceremony and offspring and anniversaries-ever could. Where else might romance bloom anew like a perennial flower-exquisite as a. hothouse orchid-with the same old deliciously bitter touch of rot on every petal? Where indeed? Ah, if men could but comprehend the miracle of cunt in its sapphic essence, the entire registry of divorce lawyers would be free to crawl gracefully back into the woodwork of some nobler courtroom, more legitimate if less lucrative ...
"Oooh, you suck so good! You're a great cuntlapper, you know that? Sometimes I forget to mention it, like I'm taking you for granted-but believe me, that's not so. You're the best."
The compliment spurred Jolene to prodigious efforts. Her lips and tongue labored mightily, climbing to a higher plateau, a flurry of frantic precision. The hot girl-flesh responded to her added zeal, twitching and jerking and thrusting itself into her open mouth with spasmodically turbulent bumps and grinds. Precision no longer counted for much in this deluge of sheer sensuality. Then, quite unexpectedly, the voice from above sounded again, strangely calm and somewhat irrelevant, almost a jarring note:
"Hey! About that kid, you know? Your dessous-girl. I'll send her here tonight, give you a chance to look her over. Kind of interview her, huh? With so many of the old Maggies after her ass, she'll be better off here than at that party. Yeah. Good idea. Okay with you? Sure, it is. But what are you slowing down for? Come on, lover-woman, fly me to the moon. Suck me, suck my cunt, suck sweet baby's nice hot cunt-cream!"
Stunned by the sudden switch, Jolene recovered hurriedly and continued her avid mouthing, still passionately engrossed in driving her sweet baby over the brink of orgasm. Only she couldn't help but recognize how self-centered the baby could be, how glib, how facile, how sly at mixing sweetness with shrewdness to gain her end. Nor was there any doubt about who called the shots here, turning the pecking-order of their fantasy games into stark reality. Oh hell, it was even visible now-there in the mirror, one erect, one crouching-the cruel-eyed oriental princess and her obedient servant. Slave! Lapper of the Royal Cunt ...
When the knock interrupted her solitude, Jolene took a grip on her emotions and told the visitor to come in. She had been waiting and working up a case of jumpy nerves, not quite certain of her role in this strange situation. Especially since they both knew that a wild lesbian sex-party was going on elsewhere in the house, an after-hours gathering behind blanket-covered windows. That made them accomplices already, both sharing the same secret. Anyway, she was supposed to "interview" the kid, whatever that meant. It was bound to be pretty awkward.
The door swung open and the girl entered. She shut it behind her carefully and then dropped into a curtsy, rather elegantly for such a plump-bodied youngster. The gesture went deep, straining a lot of bone-sockets as she sank almost to the floor. For a moment though, she looked like a huddled pyramid of flesh, too much flesh trying to hide under an apex of red hair.
"Miz Jolene, my name if Hilary. Hilary Rourke. It would be a privilege to serve you. I only hope you find me satisfactory."
The knot in Jolene's stomach melted. She wasn't so nervous any more, not after such a display, of humility. The kid was practically at her feet already, a greeting that sounded just the right note between modest dignity and wistful self-abasement.
"Come here, my dear. Over here in the light. Let's have a look at you. Hmm, what's that you're wearing, pajamas?"
"Yes, ma'm. Baby-dolls."
"Not exactly the costume to come a-calling in, is it?"
"I-I'm sorry. It's what I had on for the ... uh ... "
"It's all right, you can say it. I know there's a party on tonight. A sexy party. I'm considered a liberal housemother. So as long as nobody gets pregnant ... " Jolene smiled. "And that's all you wore? Nothing on your feet?"
"This is all. It's required. And I was told to come here right from there. But if you like, I can go to my room and change. It'll only take a few minutes."
"No, of course not. You're charming like that. No wonder those parties are so successful. Come to think of it, you must be disappointed missing the one tonight. Wouldn't you rather be over there instead of here? The truth now, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, no! Never! Forgive me, Miz Jolene, but I've just got to tell you. I'd rather be here than anywhere else in the whole wide world. Here with you, right here in this room. If you only knew how happy I was when Ardith told me ... " The gushing voice choked, thick with emotion.
"I-I don't understand. But never mind, it'll all come out when we get to know each other better. Now let's have another look at you, more slowly this time. Pose for me. Turn around. I want to see you at your best."
The girl hesitated, an odd expression flitting across her face. Then she went into a prolonged pirouette, striking new poses along the way somewhat shyly, trying her best to avoid advertising her weak points. And there were weaknesses aplenty, Jolene noticed, but none that could label her downright ugly. Certainly none bad enough to overshadow her air of sweet humility. And wasn't that the prime consideration in choosing a dessous-girl? Although it was still hard to see why anyone would want to fight over her. Ardith must have been exaggerating a bit.
"Is this all right, ma'am?"
"Fine. Just fine. You're delightful."
"Thank you. I'm so glad. Now is there anything else I can do for you? Anything at all? I'm at your service."
"Anything at all ... " Jolene mulled it over, wondering just how far this interview should go. All the way? It was expected, apparently. Only she wasn't quite sure. "Umm, does that include making love to me?"
"Yes, Oh yes, it includes everything. Ma'am? May I speak frankly? You won't be offended?"
"You couldn't offend me, my dear. Speak up, by all means."
"Okay. It would be a privilege to make love to you. A great honor to touch your beautiful body. To kiss your cunt. To lick your ass. All I ask is your permission." Then, sinking into another deep curtsy, "Miz Jolene? Won't you please let me be your dessous-girl?"
Momentarily shocked by the lurid plea, Jolene almost went limp as her hand was caught and kissed ardently. Such a charming offer of devotion! A dessous-girl demonstrating eagerness to serve her Domina. (Oh, that Ardith; even the titles were her idea!) Wasn't it all simply thrilling?
"Dessous-girl. Hmm. And then I'd be your Domina-is that what you want? Well now ... "
Still in the low curtsy, Hilary peered up imploringly. "Miz Jolene? Domina? Would you really like to see me at my best? I couldn't show you before, not just posing. I-I'd have looked pretty silly just sticking my tongue out. See?"
Again the hand-kiss, only with a lick this time, a flash of pink tongue that made Jolene's eyes pop. As quick as it was, the gesture seemed like something in slow motion, protracted beyond belief by the unfurling of all that pinkness. The sheer length of it! And the width, too, the remarkable thickness at the base, thick enough to stretch those pulpy-moist lips wide-although she got no more than a split-second view of that part. She had seen sufficient, though; why waste this phenomenal freak of nature on her hand? The sight alone had started her cunt seething. And as long as it was going to be such a great honor ...
But what was it the kid had said? Not just her cunt. An honor to lick my ass? A random thought streaked through Jolene's mind, a memory of that final night with little Ginger Lorimer, the shame, the degradation; wasn't this the perfect opportunity to wipe clean the lingering residue of that monstrous moment? Yes indeed, let it be wiped away by this monstrous tongue, this veritable monster of a tongue-and soon, too-what a better way for a poor downtrodden housemother to begin her journey back to salvation?
"Hilary ... "
"Domina?"
"Come, The bed. Hurry!"
Shedding her robe, Jolene got there first and fell into position, a pointedly revealing posture calculated to convey her desire without further orders. And so it did. Pronto! So quickly that it made her wonder if their desires weren't one and the same. And then, incredibly, the excitement became almost more than she could bear as the moist mouth touched her buttocks and converged its licking kisses to a single caress between them. A tongue-caress. Oh, that marvelous tongue! She knew now what made this plump and comparatively plain little pledge so popular. There was nothing plain or ordinary about that long and deliciously plump tongue.
When the soft hands nudged at her legs gently but meaningfully, she spread them in immediate response, stretching the cleavage even wider of her own accord as the thrill mounted. Bubbles of sensation were building up inside her, puffing up, blowing up-puffed and blown by the ceaseless pressure from between those thick lips. Thick and less then beautiful, those lips, but who cared? What did it matter if the kid had a pug nose and a pudgy face; who cared about beauty at a time like this?
Beauty?
In all her life, Jolene couldn't recall anything more beautiful than the rapture of this moment. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder here. Especially with her eyes closed. It's in my ass, she thought deliriously-beautiful!-right up my asshole! Fuck, fuck, fuck-oh, that beautiful tongue, was there ever such a tongue? And now the bubbles were beginning to pop; was there ever such a sensation? A miracle surely, unbelievable but too imminent to deny-that big beautiful tongue was fucking her ass to a climax!
When it struck, the pleasure seemed to go on and on endlessly, expanding instead of 'ebbing, increasing and intensifying to a degree beyond her scope of comprehension. And she could only tuck her knees in and double up and push back with all her might, impaling herself to the limit upon that unstinting organ. She lost track then, conscious of the orgasm but no longer certain it is was one monumental cataclysm or a torrent of lesser convulsions all adding up to the same phenomenon. Indescribable. Inconceivable. Right on the tip of that phenomenally beautiful tongue ...
Chapter 13
This could be the day. Sooner or later it was bound to happen, Kay realized, she just couldn't go on taking such treatment without flying off the handle. She was trying hard to keep her temper under control, of course, as much a necessity as ever these days-die for dear old Omega Pi!-but the tension continued to mount. It was like teetering on the brink of some perilous abyss; one false step could send her over. And meanwhile, the suspense, the awful suspense, the minute-by-minute agony of bearing up under those beady X-ray eyes ...
"Yeah, kid, you're getting cuter all the time. I'm glad to see you looking like a real girl, no more of that tomboy shit. You can save that for your sweetie Diane. Hmm. I wonder. Maybe she isn't your sweetie any more."
No reply was called for and Kay went on working industriously, hiding her feelings behind a fragile wall of silence. Good feelings, for a change, a complacent awareness that her relationship with dainty Diane Fordyce actually had this fat bitch jealous. It was an ego-boost, anyway-especially to a poor browbeaten pledge-knowing that she had succeeded where the high-and-mighty Ursula Baum had so obviously failed. And she would succeed again, no doubt, once this dark period of disgrace was over-only next time she would be more appreciative of the lovely little creature whose delicately perfumed flesh was still a sweet memory. The sweetest! It gave her the courage to carry on in the face of such overwhelming odds, the one bright light at the end of the black tunnel.
"You sulking today, kitten? I'll soon give you something to sulk about. A big hairy cunt, for instance. It's been itching all afternoon, as a matter of fact-real itchy, you know? Probably nice and juicy by now. How's about it, you want to scratch my itch with that pointy little tongue of yours?"
Kay's heart sank; was it to be so soon? It was early yet, too early for sex, the place still needed a lot of work. But she could no longer seek shelter in silence, not with that question hanging over her head like a poisonous spider dangling from its web. Some question! As though she had a choice. The required answer was practically rote by now, explicit but just short of enthusiastic. Docile, that was the way to play it with this oversexed pig, docile and maybe a bit demure. With a girlish flutter of eyelashes, just in case.
"Ma'm? Need you ask? I'm a dessous-girl in training, ready for anything and everything. I'll be glad to take care of your cunt. And I'm sure I can cure that itch for you."
"Shit! Goddam phony. You know something Sturdevant? I hear big talk, but you are one lousy cuntlapper, pointy tongue and all. I mean lousy, you hear? You go down on me with all the affection of an electric vibrator-and not even half the power. When are you going to wake up?"
"Oh. I-I'm sorry ... "
"Yeah. Sorry. As sorry a mess as ever pledged Omega Pi, that's what you are. And you figure on getting into the Maggies? Hah! I'll blackball you myself. What a phony! You're still mooning over your precious Diane, that's your trouble. I'll bet you're still licking your lips over that precious candy cunt of hers. Stupid brat. You've got as much chance of becoming a dessous-girl as-"
"You shut up!"
The words were out before Kay could stop them, an outburst evoked by that one heartrending phrase. Candy cunt. Candy cunt, candy cunt-how it grated! Only an intimate lover would know that intimately sexy expression of Diane's. And the idea of this greasy-looking fat face even anywhere near the pink candy between those exquisitely feminine pale thighs was unbearable. Anyway, telling the ugly slob to shut up really didn't matter any more, not if she had already made up her mind about how to vote. One blackball could bar a pledge. Oh well, at least the suspense was over. Or was it? That look in those evil eyes, those glittering pig-eyes ...
The storm broke without warning. An elbow in the ribs sapped Ray's resistance and settled her hash from the start-a well-placed jab that seemed to come from out of nowhere, just hard enough to make her jackknife and gasp for breath. It was a handicap she never surmounted. After that she could only recoil instinctively and cringe, her head lolling in limp surrender, rocked from side to side as the two heavy hands lashed out with rhythmic savagery. Her cheeks smarted and then stung and at last went blessedly numb. And still the blows continued unabated, over and over, open-palm slaps that made up in bulk what they lacked in brute force. Anguished sobs erupted from her lips, punctuated by the sharp tattoo of flesh drumming upon flesh' as she quailed before the onslaught, utterly demoralized and incapable of even a semblance of self-protection. Vaguely, she visualized the approaching darkness of some terminal languor as her only possible deliverance, a swoon, a stupor, a coma-even the oblivion of death had a soft and velvety enticement. It was slow in coming, though, and she tried to hasten the process by turning to meet each impact instead of flinching and cowering.
And that was when it happened, this thing, this miracle beyond comprehension. The numbness vanished and the pain sprang up again-but oh, such a new and different kind of pain! Right in the midst of a tearful whimper, she felt it coming on, an unfamiliar and simply unbelievable sensation- sexy?-a creeping tendril of pain that had somehow managed to tap a source of pleasure ...
"Hey! What that hell! You getting hot?" Then, muttering, "Oh shit, maybe it's just me, maybe I'm the freaky one. Suck my cunt now, suck it good. I need it bad."
The drubbing stopped, but violence persisted as Kay was grabbed and forced to her knees. She swayed giddily, watching garments fall away just inches in front of her nose. It seemed all wrong, terribly wrong, and she craned her neck to avoid the sight, glaring up at that hated face instead. Only that seemed wrong too, for some reason-she could find nothing for her hatred to feed upon. No scornful arrogance in those shiny eyes, no rancor, no malice, no angry hostility in the twist of that panting mouth-only lust, a new kind of lust, as new and different as the thing that had invaded her own body just moments ago. And she lowered her gaze again, stiffening her backbone, steeling herself for the strife to come.
Oh yes, there was bound to be a hassle. She didn't feel so dizzy now, it was all coming back to her, the "candy cunt" and her angry remark and the all but certain blackball; she owed no obedience here, not any more. No allegiance to a sorority that was already barred to her. Anyway, she sure wasn't under any obligation to fulfill this blustering bitch's demands. And she would damn well say so, too, just as soon as the strength returned to her limbs enough to get up off the floor. Another minute or two, if only to catch her breath and prepare for the worst ...
"Kid? Aren't you as hot as I am? Come on! I'm dying for that tongue of yours. Give me all you've got. And I'll give you something to fix your face up, make it all better again, you know? Nice soothing cunt-foam, nice and creamy, just what those red cheeks need. Here, try a little. See if it doesn't help. Dive right in, chickie, smear it around good." It was strange. In a coarse way, the murmuring tones sounded almost affectionate-and the hand nudging Kay's head was really rather gentle, more like an endearment than an imposition. Escape would have been easy now. Especially with the pungent female odor alerting her senses, prodding her mind to a sudden peak of clarity. And yet she let herself be guided by the touch. Until the scent became quite tangible, a hairy tickling in her nostrils, penetrating deep and coyly inviting a deeper penetration on her part. And then she needed no further guidance, no pressure, galvanized into action by her own renewed excitement, burrowing through the bushy growth and into the hot fleshy sex-gulch beyond. Smearing her face around, testing the nice creamy ooze of cunt-foam, already convinced of its benign effect, the magic of its curative powers ...
"Yeah. Right in there! Doesn't that turn you on, baby?"
"Ummm ... "
"I bet it does. Horny little honeybee. I'll bet you couldn't stop now even if you There was at least a grain of least a notion. And also some wishful to."
There was at least a grain of truth to that thinking, no doubt-but Kay was glad to nod vehemently and let well enough alone, hardly concerned with subjective judgments at a time like this. It was happening again! Awash in liquid cunt, the skin of her cheeks had begun to smart-a sign of healing, probably, but she became conscious of the other thing once more, the lovely heat in the pit of her belly, the sex-heat. Or was her body just playing tricks on her? It wasn't even painful, actually, just enough to awaken the all but forgotten memories. How could such pleasure arise from pain remembered?
"Hang on, sweet-lips. We're moving."
"Hmm?"
"Just follow me. Suck, suck. Stay with it, you hear?"
"Mmmm ... "
It generated a few problems, this unexpected movement-a kind of disappointment, mainly, forcing Kay to postpone further analysis in order to focus her mind on the immediate task. Like a miner striking gold, only to find it even more imperative to abandon the discovery fast and still uncharted. (Much less understood, in her own case!) Would the same shaky landmarks be there, would the briefly glimpsed maze be the same on some future date? But this was now and the wheels were already in motion, and she could only wrap her arms around the big thick thighs and take a grip on the big solid buttocks and shuffle along on her knees. Blindly, of course, ear-deep in cunt and quite unaware of their destination. The bed, more than likely. Or a nearby chair maybe, providing comfort for one, not that it mattered. She was used to the floor these days, ample reason for a healthy young body and a frustrated young soul. Except that she didn't feel so frustrated at the moment ...
"Okay, we're all set now."
Not frustrated, just somewhat bewildered. After all that moving around they seemed to be in the same position-no bed, no chair, no change in the carpet underneath. Kay refused to relax her embrace though, clinging warily to her one sure point of reference. And still sucking, naturally, sucking overheated cunt and gulping for cool air after so much exertion-always mindful of her priorities, cunt first and oxygen second. She felt almost proud of herself, proud of her exemplary behavior under pressure.
"You're doing pretty good down there, I've got to admit. Yeah, pusskit, I take it all back, I guess maybe you do have the right stuff for Omega Pi in you. But that doesn't excuse your little blowup a while ago. Telling me to shut up. Me. Oh shit, I won't even let the teachers get away with that. And when I slapped you around, well, that was just to let off steam about everything in general; you could have fought me right back. Not like a real punishment, you know? So that's how it stands now-strictly between the two of us-you've still got some punishment coming, I'd say. For the sake of discipline, if nothing else. Don't you agree? Just nod your head, lovey, nod your head and stay with it-you're better off keeping my big old hairy cunt happy, believe me. Okay?"
For once in her life, Kay believed. Anyway, there seemed to be no alternative, no chance to express a difference of opinion. Except for an improvised side-to-side negative headshake, perhaps, a simple enough message to convey. An integral part of any halfway decent cuntlapping technique, for that matter, one that she had used earlier and would doubtless use again later. If and when it became just a caress, not to be mistaken for a coded message. But for now she was content-indeed, careful-to go on nodding and lapping and bobbing her head up and down, cautious even of some stray crosswind that might blow her a degree off the vertical. What the punishment would be, she had no idea-just so long as it brought a lasting peace and ended the blackball threat forever.
"You know something, doll-baby? I've got a hunch you're going to enjoy this. Just give it time, huh? Don't panic. It's only a punishment, not an execution. Here goes ... "
It came with a whirr and a thump, at last putting an end to Kay's bewilderment, falling into place like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. How simple! All that walking around had been for a definite purpose, then. To pick up the instrument of her punishment, what else? A belt of some sort, a leather strap to lay over her behind. It didn't hurt much, not through the double protection of her shorts and panties-but the added warmth was a reminder of something good, that same lovely sensation, so nice to cling to. And it spurred her to a burst of even greater enthusiasm as she endeavored to please the all-powerful she-devil who swung the belt. That seemed of vital importance somehow, pleasing the person who was the source of this miraculously reawakening stimulus, and she sucked frantically and plunged into the utmost depths of the engulfing cunt, still bobbing up and down. Fucking it. Fucking it in grateful reimbursement for her own pleasure, fucking this soft and voluptuously slippery gully of cunt-flesh with her entire face ...
"Yeah. It figures. I was right the first time. You like that, don't you?" The words were a command, not a query. "You really go for it, kid. Uh-huh. I can tell. Only I'd better hear it from you. How about it, aren't you hot? Speak up and say so, say it inside my cunt. Come on!"
"Mmm, hot, I'm hot, I'm hot, I'm hot!"
"Damn right. Nothing like a stinging ass to bring a wayward pledge to her senses. Listen close now, I've got something to tell you. Don't blame Hilary Rourke for getting you into trouble, she was just letting it all hang out, just doing what any good Maggie might expect. Magpies have no secrets from each other. So you can blame Diane, nobody else-she never was a real insider, always thinking about boys, you know? Most of us-the Maggies, I mean-will be damn glad to get rid of her at graduation. But about Hilary, I want you to make up with her, understand?"
Kay understood only vaguely. Somehow-infinitely more significant at the moment-was the mention of her stinging ass. Because it didn't really sting, of course, not with so much clothing on. And it was supposed to, wasn't it? Maybe she ought to do something about that, something to remedy the situation. Let it sting!
Much as she hated to, Kay gave up the security of her clutching embrace to put her hands to work. It didn't take long, though, just a quick tug at the fastener and a downward shove-shorts and panties in the same single motion-and then she brought her arms back up into position again. Holding on, just like before. Only with a difference now. What a difference! It scared her a little, the feeling of that hot belt on her denuded buttocks. But she went on kissing and the leather went on swinging, and pretty soon the two actions blended together to become one impossibly wild thrill.
Her whipped ass was in torment. And yet it was a pleasure-pain, an ecstasy-like nothing she had ever known, nothing she had even imagined. And then, as if in some feverish dream, she could only recognize the truth when she heard it, the truth in that triumphant voice:
"Feel good, baby? Yeah. This is what you want. Just what you need. And I'm the only one who can give it to you. Suck, suck-suck me off while I beat your bare ass! You don't even care about Diane's candy any more. Oh shit, you've got the real thing now. Hot meat. Hot cunt meat. And don't you just love it, kiddo? Don't you just love Ursula's big hot hairy cunt?"
Chapter 14
With the dangling foot cradled in her lap, Nikki concentrated attentively and meticulously, steadying it in the palm of one hand and wielding the tiny brush with the other. She was always happy here, happy to be close to her graciously indulgent idol, happy to make love to these pretty feet. Or to take care of them rubbing the smooth skin with lotion, painting and polishing each precious toenail a perfect gloss before kiss-time. Ah yes, the very touch of Domina Merle's toes could bring on a fluttery rapture ...
"Darling. How beautifully you do that!"
"Only because your feet are so beautiful."
"Such flattery. Beautiful as your sister's?"
"More. Much more. And more exciting, too. Yvette was just a kid, really-she didn't even understand how I felt, at least not till it was almost over between us. Toward the end, I mean, just before my father and her mother got divorced and we broke up as a family. Up until then she just thought I was trying to be some sort of slave, you know? A sex slave. She didn't realize that all I ever wanted was to kiss her feet."
"What made her catch on? Tell me about it, hmm? Tell me while you're working. I like hearing you talk."
"Uh-huh. Let me think. Oh yes, I remember. Yvette was taking a bath, that was it, and she called me in to wash her back. I did it, of course, but then I couldn't resist the idea of washing her feet too. She liked that. She giggled a little, especially when I finished the first one and kissed it. I was sitting on the edge of the tub, so it was easy, just kind of natural to lift her little foot up to my lips. But then after I finished washing the other one, well, that was when it happened-she turned way over on her side just to raise that foot up to me. Right up to my face practically, and all by herself. I didn't even have to lean over, it was right there ready to be kissed."
"Didn't she say anything?"
"Not a word, She just got the giggles again, that was all. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. But it must have been pretty much what I figured, you know? Anyway, later that same night she wanted to go to the movies-the second show, the one that didn't get out till around midnight. Her mother said no though, not alone, not unless the two of us went together. I didn't feel like going, but then Yvette got me off in a corner and started coaxing. And she knew exactly what to say, too-if I went to the flicks with her, she'd make it worth my while when we got home afterward. She'd let me kiss her feet later, as much as I wanted to, she said, all night long even. Only I wasn't sure whether to believe her, the way she kept giggling and kind of making fun of me ... "
"What a little monster! Nikki, how you must have suffered, you poor darling. So what happened? Did you go with her?"
"Sure. I had to, even if she was only teasing. I couldn't help myself. And I knew she was just using me, laughing at me, having herself a ball at my expense. Funny thing, though. The picture turned out to be better than I'd expected, but we didn't pay much attention to it, neither one of us. Yvette kept whispering in my ear about what we were going to do afterward-it was like she got started on something and then just couldn't stop-all about how I'd better do it good later, kiss her feet and suck oh her toes and lick in between them-crazy talk, real crazy, you know? I just sat there with my cheeks burning and wondered if the whole audience wasn't looking at us, watching my blush, watching me squirm around in my seat-like I was about to pee in my pants, that was how I felt. Only they were already wet by that time, my panties, sexy-wet and uncomfortable. I could hardly wait to get home."
"So? Then what? When you got home, I mean."
"It was pretty wild. I figured Yvette might back out and say she had a headache or something, but it was just the opposite. Sure enough, she gave me her feet to kiss-I mean she actually gave them to me-like a gift, you know? And I kissed them. All over. Just like she'd whispered in my ear at the movies, only better. I licked the soles too, my own idea, and that really turned her on. She made me suck her cunt then, but afterward I went right back down to her feet again. For hours and hours, it seemed like. I was still doing it, nibbling on her toes, when she finally fell asleep."
"Oooh, the stories you tell ... "
"I can do more than just tell a story."
"Oh? Finished already?"
"All done. Just about." Then, wistfully, "Domina?"
"Yes, darling. You may. If they're dry enough."
Nikki beamed rapturously. Permission granted. Even without asking the question, she had the exhilarating answer. And her mouth opened covetously to take possession.
"The soles first, -sweetheart. In case the nail-polish hasn't dried and hardened yet. Mustn't get impatient and mess up such an excellent job. Oooh! That's lovely, simply lovely-isn't this the loveliest kind of love?"
"Come on in, honey, I can use some company tonight." Grinning an amiable greeting, Kay began undressing in a somewhat gingerly manner. "I just got in myself."
"I know. I heard you and came right over."
"Oh? Something on your mind? Come in, come in, close the door before we get invaded- sympathetic company is all I can use. Lock it, will you? I found a note from Nikki-she'll be gone for hours, playing pattycake with Merle Winthrop. As usual. Probably spend most of the night there. Also as usual. While leaves me all by my lonesome, kiddo-I'm glad you came over. So what's on your mind, pray tell?"
"Nothing special. I-I'm just so glad we're friends again ... "
"Hey, are you trying to embarrass me? Hilary, quit being so damned apologetic. We had a little hassle and then made up; it's over now, over and done with, okay?"
"Uh-huh. Sorry. Kay! You're all bruised!"
"A little discolored, you might say."
"But-but-"
"Don't let it bother you. It's just a little game that goes on between Ursula and me, nothing new." Naked now, Kay touched the inflamed place and winced in fond recollection. Curious, she turned her back to the mirror, peering over her shoulder to check the recent damage. The sight gave her a twinge, rueful but not without a certain saucy excitement, prompting her to reach back and rub the mottled buttock-mounds with both hands. There was a pleasant tingle beneath the surface? it seemed to flow through and transmit itself to her cupped palms. "Pretty cute, huh?"
"Cute. Oh sure ... " Hilary appeared genuinely agitated, a visible tremor stirring her plump form. As though she too was sharing the discomfort. And yet, somehow, her negative reaction was belied by an oddly mobile expression on her face, a fleeting hint of some inner eroticism. "It's liable to turn purple. Wouldn't you like me to put something on it? I'm a pretty good nurse."
"Uh, great. If you're volunteering, fine and dandy, a little lotion or cream would sure help. Any of this junk on the dresser ought to fix me up; what do you suggest?"
"Cream, the creamier the better, nice and thick. I'll pick it out, you just lie down and get comfortable."
With a sigh, Kay sank to the bed and rolled over upon her stomach, a familiar position of late, necessitated by the choice of her backside as Ursula Baum's favorite target. No more face-slapping, no elbow-jabs in the ribs, just plenty of hot and heavy discipline for a bare ass that seemed to thrive on it. Only the choice of weapons had broadened, beginning with belts and branching out to include such items as riding quirts and whippy canes-even an old-fashioned fraternity paddle, a gift from somebody's brother. It got a bit hectic at times, what with Ursula ransacking the house and the campus and the surrounding county to add to her rapidly growing collection-but Kay knew better than to complain. It was simpler and less hazardous to change a few lifetime habits. She was used to sleeping on her stomach now ...
"This stuff should do it. Cool you off, at least. I'll try a little dab first, just to test it on you. On one of the sore spots. There. How's that? Okay to slather it on?"
"Uh-huh. Nice. Slather away. Ummm ... " Kay purred blissfully as the creamy emollient soothed her fiery skin. "Hey, you really do know how. That feels wonderful. Just don't stop, hmm?"
"Want me to do your whole back? A real massage, I mean. And we'll let the sore part soak awhile, a foundation for a second coat later. Darn right I know how, my aunt gave me lots of practice. I've got the touch, she used to say."
"Terrific. I could lie here like this all night. Sure, honey, I'd love a massage. How come you're so good to me?"
"Well ... " Then, almost fearfully, "I-I feel guilty. Same old reason, even though we've made up. It's my fault you're stuck with Ursula Baum, my fault you've got these bruises."
"Aw, forget it. Ursula isn't so bad. Even fun, in a way. And besides, she's supposed to be training me for Diane, that's all. I can take it until then. You'll see, everything will be rosy pretty soon. And meanwhile, don't you worry, huh? You just relax and be around to keep my ass cool with those hands of yours. Nice soft hands. Your aunt was right, you've sure got the touch. Hmm, speaking of your aunt-what's her name, Aunt Veda?-you were going to tell me more about her, remember?"
"I remember."
"Then how about it? While you're massaging me. About how you first got started licking ... " Kay let the phrase fade; then, "Hmm, maybe that's not such a hot subject to bring up right now. Can't talk about licking assholes when mine is plugged up with cream, can we? Ugh. Probably tastes worse than shit."
"Silly. Once it gets into the skin, there's no taste at all. Unless it's some sort of deodorant, of course. But regardless, I'm still not going to tell you about Aunt Veda. I'd rather forget her, she's not so important to me now. I've found someone else, just the right type for me, the kind of woman who really turns me on."
"Yeah? Who?"
"Miz Jolene."
"Huh? You're putting me on. The housemother?"
"It's true. But don't ask me to tell you about that, either. I've given up letting it all hang out. I'll just say one thing, there's plenty to hang, you know?"
"Like she's got big tits, you mean?"
"Big everything. Especially the thing I like most." Hilary sounded quite breathless. "Big and beautiful and softer than any pillow. I could just die in there, with my tongue right up inside my Domina's ass ... "
"Your-your Domina?"
"Oooh, I'm telling tales again. I shouldn't."
"Aw, it's only me, your old buddy from pledge-ghetto. No secrets between us. Honey? You lick Miz Jolene's ass?"
"Uh-huh. With or without cream. On prime-time TV, if she asked me to. Or on top of the Eiffel Tower, like a good dessous-girl. I lick her ass and she loves it, she loves my tongue. My fuck-tongue. That's something you don't know about, do you? My tongue. I've got the biggest and best in the sorority."
"Wow! How you talk! I'm hot just listening to you."
"Just listening? That's all? Not from my hands?"
"Just listening? That's all? Not from my hands?"
"Well ... not when you're just massaging ... "
"No? How about back down here then? Right here?"
"Oooh!"
"Sensitive, huh?"
"I-I guess so. Hilary? I'm so hot ... "
"Poor little ass, all bruised. Cream isn't enough. Want me to kiss it? Kiss your ass and make it well again?"
"Oh honey, do lever!"
"Or maybe you're just curious about my fuck-tongue, hmm?"
Ablaze with anticipation, Kay squirmed and jutted her buttocks up off the bed, not high, just enough to let the motion speak for her. Only her ass was still squirming and jutting up back there, speaking for itself now. The bedsprings creaked. The sound of heavy breathing became audible. And at last the warm wetness of lips made contact, a kiss that promised more than it produced, skimming the surface lightly and yet veering closer and closer to the entry into the depths-where the unquenched flame needed so much help!-driving the impatient flesh mad with frustration. It was just too exasperating for words ...
Words?
"Come on, slut, kiss my ass!" Kay exploded spontaneously, sparked by the memory of a similar scene on this same bed, a time when she herself had stressed the importance of the spoken word. "Give it to me, you lesbian freak, give me that thing you're so proud of, shoot it right up my asshole-your tongue, your big freaky tongue, gimme that big freaky fuck-tongue!"
It was truly astonishing, that thing imbedding itself in her flesh, long and thick and incredibly versed in every aspect of this peculiar style of lovemaking. Aware of her own dearth of such equipment and experience, Kay was content just to hang on and enjoy the ride, murmuring a few choice oaths of encouragement every so often, as much for herself as to her partner. Until at last, moaning feverishly, she became mired in the gooey cream of her own orgasm, a creamier orgasm than she had ever encountered before. With that great big freaky fuck-tongue slithering in and out of her ass ...
Chapter 15
Naked, seated at the dressing table, Jolene swung her legs to the side and parted them for the flushed face of the kneeling girl. She relaxed languidly, leaning backward upon the bench and resting an elbow on the surface of the dresser. A shiver traversed her spine, a responsive shiver of delight brought oh by the fervor of the kiss, the magnitude of it, the thick lips, the fantastic tongue-a never-failing source of amazement, the sheer size of that superlative tongue ...
The mirror caught her eye, reflecting the scene in all its erotic nuances. Her body, with those big breasts, big and still remarkably firm for a woman her age, a pair of tits to be proud of; how they were moving now, rising and falling to each deeply drawn breath. The head of red hair, bent low, contrasting with the skin of her thighs; such a charming tableau! Hardly the picture of a housemother and a sorority pledge, oh no, wasn't this a Domina and her adoring dessous-girl?
She sighed after a while, hesitant to bring this enchanting episode to a close. But a glance at the clock told her that it was time. There was a faculty meeting to prepare for, one of the few each year that required a housemother's presence. Worse yet, it would be more of a social function, short on business and long on insipid tea and interminably dull conversation, a social ritual almost. Which meant dressing up, of course, presenting her best appearance and on her best behavior-far from the cherished privacy of the. Omega house.
Luckily, she had already put in most of her preparations, bathing and laying out her clothes in advance. Luckier still-such a delicious notion!-she had someone here to help her; why not get some real maid service out of this devoted little lover?
"Hilary ... "
"Hmm?"
"Enough, dear."
"Ummm. Domina?"
"No more. Sorry. That faculty meeting-I told you about it, remember? You'll have to leave now, it's time to get ready. Unless, well, if you'd like to stay and help me dress ... "
"Oooh, yes, I'd love to. I've said it before, ma'am, you don't even have to ask-it's always a privilege to serve you."
"I know. But this is different, don't you see, darling? It won't be sexy. If you stay, it must be as my maid and not my dessous-girl. Understand?"
"Yes'm. Whatever you say. I'm at your service. Uh, as long as you don't mind if I feel sexy ... "
"Rascal ... " Jolene smiled down at the plump-fleshed young face, momentarily fascinated by the glistening wet lips, the moist sheen on chin and cheeks-even on the cute little pug nose-all slick and shimmery with the lewd secretions of well-sucked cunt. Then, quite sharply, hastening the new mood, "Go to work now. You'll find the things laid out over there. Garter belt first, then stockings and shoes. Quickly!"
The youngster froze in shock, obviously taken aback by the sudden reversal. But she leaped up and scampered off, practically falling all over herself in eager obedience. And soon the black garter-belt was looped around and fastened, a brisk beginning.
"Stockings next." Still almost peremptory in manner, Jolene pointed her toes. "And be careful. Don't snag them."
Hilary crouched dutifully, her fingers working with the hose, slipping them onto the waiting feet and up the extended legs one by one, smoothing out the gossamer nylon film on the way. Up high, the increased intimacy seemed to make her nervous; she fumbled over the garter-catches with a noticeable tremor.
"Easy there! If I get a run ... "
"I-I'm trying my best."
"Uh-huh. That's better. Okay. Shoes now."
"Yes, ma'm. Oh, they're so pretty!"
"You think so?" Amused, by the rapt compliment, Jolene patted the bent head affectionately. "Just ordinary pumps, really. I do like the narrow heel, though. Only you can't get the full effect until I'm wearing them, can you?"
As the shoes were fitted to her feet gently, almost reverently, she checked the clock again, noting the still-early hour with a small surge of pleasure. There was plenty of time yet. With such an enthusiastic helper to finish the job, she could afford to dally a bit; why not take a few minutes off to enjoy this rather appealing state of undress? She stood up, keeping her hand on the red hair for support now.
"Come, dear, I want to use the big mirror. Let's see how you're doing so far. Quite well, I imagine."
She stepped away, gliding to the full-length mirror attached to the closet door and then glancing back over her shoulder. The sweet child was still on the floor, her gaze transfixed, staring, eyes wide with apparent awe. Only the tip of her tongue moved, just barely visible between those shiny lips.
"Hilary? You can get up, you know. No need to remain on your knees like that. You're not a slave, my dear."
"Oh. But-but that's how I feel ... "
Intrigued by the piteously murmured confession, Jolene masked her emotional flutter with a shrug, turning her attention to the image in the glass. Such a seductive sight; no wonder the kid was entranced! Garter belt. Nylons. High heels. And not a damn thing else, just the makeup on her face. Blue eyes luminously aglow. Big bare tits bulging provocatively. Bare cunt luridly accentuated, framed in black by the hip-hugging garment and the vaulted arc of its thigh-straps. A vision of depraved elegance, so scandalously sensual, far more seductive than simple nudity!
Winking roguishly, she twisted her torso this way and that for a fluidly changing view, already well acquainted with her voluptuous figure from any angle. But she never tired of her own erotic appeal, somehow. Nor could she ever tire of seeing it mirrored in the eyes of others. Right now, for instance wasn't it time for a little corroboration?
"Well, young lady? How do I look?"
The reply came without hesitation. "Beautiful. You're the most beautiful woman in the world. And the sexiest."
"The sexiest, eh? Hmm. And I'm supposed to be getting ready for a faculty meeting. Now if it was for one of those naughty Magpie parties ... " A memory flashed on the screen of Jolene's mind, recent enough to be vivid in every detail. She glanced down, allowing a tiny frown to mar her features. "Hmph! Is that a wrinkle? I do believe so-just above the ankle-and in my sheerest nylons, too, isn't that awful? Come fix it for me."
Prodded out of her daze at last, the girl began to move. On her hands and knees. Crawling. As if-even in this modern democratic era-the position of "maid" wasn't quite appropriate. Not for a homely little butterball serving the most beautiful woman in the world. Or a lowly dessous-girl caring for an adored Domina. No, it was as if she had gone back to ancient times to attend her noble mistress as a wholly owned body-slave.
Jolene went limp, on the verge of collapse, luxuriating in the sublime ecstasy of this uniquely unforgettable moment. But she managed to stiffen up and stave off disaster, prolonging the dramatic interlude to its logical conclusion. Presently the offending wrinkle was smoothed out. And yet the sweet child remained in a crouch, abject and apparently anxious to preserve the shared mood. Anxious to display her adoration in a more intimate fashion, naturally.
"Miz Jolene? Domina?"
"Hmm?"
"I've got to ask. Would you let me ... uh ... "
"Well now. I ought to finish dressing."
"Please? I beg you. On my knees. Your slave begs you."
"Oh ... all right ... " Feigning reluctance, Jolene shuddered in hot anticipation and swung around to peer at the upturned face. "I suppose it's no more than fair. If you want to, go ahead. But don't hold me with your hands, not after you worked so hard to get that wrinkle ironed out. Mustn't ruin the stockings, my dear."
She suppressed a gasp, wracked by a second shudder as the thick lips nuzzled up between the garter-straps impatiently. Despite its hungrily mouthing haste, she could sense a certain grateful devotion in the kiss, a token of thanks for favor begged and bestowed. And for more crucial favor to come? So it appeared. At the first sign of change-shared again, almost by instinct-the seemingly insatiable lips turned tranquil and clung only passively to the lips of her aroused but self-sacrificing cunt. It was a sacrifice for both, the displacement coming easily but with lingering regret.
The cooperative sacrificial gesture would soon pay off big, of course. Almost smug in her assessment of the situation, Jolene continued her movement slowly, revolving at a leisurely pace as those worshipful young lips rendered homage to her mature beauty. Once again she exchanged a roguish wink with her mirror image, watching the rest of the picture come into view with a certain fascinated complacency. Her attire was truly alluring and aptly suited to the occasion. The garter belt wasn't in the way at all. The sheer nylons and slim heels brought out the latent charm, the more delicate contours of her heavy legs. Lovely ...
"Oooh! Ummm ... my beautiful Domina ... " Ah yes, and now there was an added attraction, just barely visible, the red hair bobbing in back of her. Rather like a tail, a dangling tail. Still noisy, too, filling the gaps between gleeful moans and gurgles with the liquid sounds of lesbian tongue-love, all lasciviously familiar. Jolene adjusted the angle of her body slightly, gaining a more comprehensive view; the big payoff was due any minute now, and it would be fun to see the final stages of worship, the enraptured young face intent only on this aphrodisiac infatuation with her ass, gradually working its way into the crack. Such a cute little monkeyface! And the tongue, the flashing tongue; was there ever such a talented tongue? "Domina? Now?"
"Yes. Now! Fuck-tongue. Shove it in. Fuck!"
"Nnnng ... "
Jolene teetered and rested her weight back upon the upturned face, reveling in the sensation of that impossibly huge girl-tongue jammed up inside her, up her ass, right up her asshole, fucking her big fat butt to a bing-bang-boom! Kaboom! Just like a great big ol' firecracker. The big payoff, sure enough. And in front of a mirror, imagine!
It was a pretty weak wink this time, pretty phony-brave but not very convincing. She looked okay, though, still a sexy bitch in that garter belt outfit; even the stockings hadn't sagged much, at least not noticeably. Hmm. Wouldn't it be a kick to go to one of those secret Magpie parties dressed like this? Oh sure, she could just see herself by candlelight, bare cunt and all, surrounded by kids on the make for a hunk of housemother. No, dammit, the risk was too great, her presence would practically turn the after-hours party idea into something legal. Or an established custom within the house, anyway-and it hadn't gone that far yet. No parties next year, just a nice peaceful sorority. Lots of little romances, of course, but no candlelight orgies. For that matter, it ought to be a cinch to keep order next year, with slave-girl Hilary around for her own personal use. Just what a nervous housemother needed, a tongue that could fuck her to a climax and never talk back. It might not even be a nervous year. Just as long as Ardith graduated and went off to greener pastures ...
Ardith!
Until that day came, why fight it? Jolene was powerless to resist the beautiful blonde devil-darling. Even now, with that wriggly tongue stirring her ass up all over again, she couldn't forget her one true love. The white-hot thrill of burying her face between those milky white thighs. The tart-sweet joy of succumbing to her own need to kneel at that golden shrine-the fleecy gold and flowery pink cunt-shrine-to sip the pagan nectar and lose herself in the mist of its deliciously evil intoxication; what chance did she have against such awesome power?
Ah well, June graduation wasn't so far off. And then peace. Unless she decided to cash in that tempting little dividend accrued over these past years of wickedness. Such a wicked dividend! Every summer Ardith had invited to her to spend some time, a week or two, perhaps, at the Lorimer beach house-with the rest of the family away, of course. Always a temptation, too, but Jolene had declined sadly but firmly, aware that the opening of school in September would bring the romance to a boil again. But this year the invitation had already been pressed upon her-a command, almost; such a tyrant!-with no hope of reuniting in the fall, Their one last opportunity then, a most wicked rendezvous toward the end of summer; oh yes, even the date was set-no family, only the golden-haired princess and guest-would they get together and turn the Lorimer beach house into a lesbian love nest? It was still a cliffhanger, no decision yet, but Jolene was sure leaning toward a week of summer sin. After all, what could she lose? Let it end with a bang, not a whimper.
Hmm. Was there another bang building up right now? Her devoted dessous-girl was doing fine back there. Time to shunt aside that invitation problem and join the fun again, time to wink, you big sinful slut, time to grab your cunt and shove your ass into that poor little kid's happy face. Time to play Domina ...
Only it wasn't that simple, dammit. Regardless of the size and skill of that remarkable tongue, she needed more than this one-sided style of love-making. Nothing could compare in excitement to those unpredictable sessions with her adored one. Right here and now, with this uncompromising mirror as a witness, she had to lick her lips in recollection of those dark hours, the obscene hours when her own tongue had responded shamelessly to Ardith's insolent demands and lapped at the sultry lemon-yellow crease in that beautiful white ass. How strange to treasure such tainted memories! Was it a sign of senility, an old dyke getting on in years?
Oh shit, she wasn't in her dotage yet. Not with those big tits coming to life at a moment's notice. Mmm, big hot tits. And those legs perched on high heels, big curvy legs with plenty of meat on them, strong enough to crack a little cuntlapper's skull, And passionate enough to try it! Old age? With a nice big plump ass clamped around that burrowing face like a hot vise? A nice lusty asshole that could tighten up and suck right back on the length of that slippery tongue ...
"Domina!"
"You feel it, huh?"
"Mmm ... "
"More fuck-tongue, that's what I want. Maybe you found yourself a home back there, but you've got to earn your keep."
That brought results. A d-girl earning her keep. Jolene laughed aloud at the big bawdy whore winking at her from the mirror. At this rate, with that tireless tongue still going like crazy, she might not ever get to her faculty meeting. Only she would have to send a note to the dean then, make up some excuse, something with a little class, a little originality. Uh-huh. Dear Dean: So sorry. Got tied up in traffic. You see, dearie, there's this cute little redhead with a tongue you just wouldn't believe!-and she rammed into my rear-end and locked bumpers and we may both be out of action for the rest of the shitty semester.
Chapter 16
The action was fierce. Kay shuddered as the excitement gripped her, feeling it as a kind of drunken madness. She couldn't help herself, couldn't struggle against the clutch of those big thick thighs, couldn't keep her tongue from shooting out of her mouth as the big black hairy thing engulfed her. The slippery lips seemed to suck her in; she rolled her face from side to side to wedge in even deeper, moaning desperately and then smothering the moan in hot flesh, lost in the hellish depths of Urusla Baum's oppressive and yet somehow lewdly irresistible cunt.
Lost ...
Until the noise penetrated. A knock at the door that seemed too remote to mean anything-until Ursula raised her voice. "Is that you, Diane?" Then, tightening her hold, reinforcing the clasp of her legs with both hands, "Come on in. Door's open."
It was a new low for Kay, a humiliation beyond the threshold of endurance. She heard the door open and then close, aware now for the first time that it had been left unlocked. Deliberately so, no doubt-the interruption must have been expected. But the thigh-muscles remained adamant and the fingers in her hair were like talons, and there was no escape for her. Worse yet, she 'couldn't even loosen the grip enough to turn her face away from the confining quagmire of cunt-flesh.
"Sit down and relax awhile, huh?" Ursula's casual tone was like a grotesque leer. "We'll be through soon. You can watch and see how well I've trained our little dessous-girl."
Resistance would only have prolonged the agony, doubtless provoking some punitive measure to add to the disgrace. Kay had no recourse but to carry on. What hurt even more, though, was the recognition of her own renewed ardor as she continued her performance, mouthing the hairy gash and feeling the familiar heat bubbling in her blood-stream again. Ugh. Disgusting! How could she feel desire in the midst of such degradation, desire in the depths of a dung-heap-was it some sort of sickness?
Ursula chuckled dryly, a smug sound, humorless. And at last her grasp relented. But it came sooner than anticipated somehow, too soon to consummate a release from sexual tension, and Kay felt a vague disappointment, an inexplicable sense of loss. A kind of emptiness almost, despite the swollen turbulence in her body. It fogged her mind momentarily, slowing down her reflexes and making her hesitant to move out of bondage even after the prison gates had opened wide. And only after a conscious effort could she accept her freedom, pulling herself loose as the expectant silence seemed to throb all around her.
Clarity returned with a jolt then. Steeped in shame, she twisted away and sat up, wondering if her small lapse had been noticeable Ursula must have known, surely. Diane's expression was inscrutable though, a frozen mask that allowed only a faint hint of distaste to peep through. As if she was annoyed and growing increasingly impatient with the entire episode. Which was apparently the case, as it turned out-she didn't waste much time speaking up.
"All over? Good. Get dressed now, Kay."
Ursula frowned. "What's your hurry? Let's discuss it first, huh? You've only been here a few minutes."
"That's long enough. What's to discuss?"
"Well ... after all the work I did training her ... "
"A fine job, I'm sure. As far as I can tell, anyway. I'll know better after trying her out myself."
"Then do it right here. Be my guest. Go ahead, let the kid show you what she's learned. I'll just supervise, kind of."
"No, thanks." Diane sniffed disdainfully. "I'll do it in my own way. And in my own room. We won't need any supervision. So no more talk, please. Just let her get some clothes on and-"
"Wait. Not yet. What if she doesn't want to go?"
"Don't be silly. Since when does a pledge refuse to obey an order? What the hell! Ursula? Are you trying to tell me something? You want her for yourself, is that it? You want to beat the poor kid's ass some more, huh? I see the whip marks, you sadistic bitch, they haven't faded yet."
"So what? Don't get your pee in a stew. If the kid doesn't object, why should you? Come on now, a good walloping never hurt anybody-at least not for long. Even you know that. Especially a smart-ass pledge like this one. She needs a little discipline to keep her in line, haven't you figured that out yet? Quit stewing about a few bruises, it's the best thing that could have happened to her, believe me. She'll even tell you so herself."
A hush fell. With all eyes upon her, Kay fidgeted nervously and wished they would start scrapping again. A moment ago she had resented being spoken of in such an impersonal manner-like some piece of property the two were wrangling over. Almost as if she wasn't there at all. And now all of a sudden she had become the center of attention- in the flesh, as it were-and they were waiting for her to say something. Something about that very flesh, in fact, the part responsible for this difference of opinion.
And she had nothing to say on the subject. Bruises on her ass? They probably belonged there, she did need discipline to keep her in line. But she could only balance that against the rather shabby trick just played, on her, setting the stage for 'Diane's entry like that; what could be more humiliating? All arranged in advance, too, leaving the door open, timing the arrival, step right up and see the trained cuntlapper! It was enough to make a poor innocent pledge's stomach turn. A pledge with fading bruises on her ass-and for a week now, maybe longer, she had wondered why Ursula seemed to be losing interest in the whips and things, the hidden collection in the closet. Well, now she knew. Only it didn't fool anybody, the evidence hadn't worn off in time-instead, somehow, it had become an issue dumped right into her lap. So could she tell the truth and use that to score points for the big conniving bitch? Shit! Better to keep mum and remain neutral on such a sore subject, let them referee their own hassle. Besides, it was only sore to those two, (Now a week ago maybe, talk about sore!) Anyway, one or the other was bound to begin snarling again ...
"Hmph! Whatever the reason, Ursula-discipline or no discipline-I'm taking Kay along with me now. Back to my room where we can iron all this out by ourselves. Together. Just the two of us. And after that she'll be my own pet pledge, my favorite-uh, my dessous-girl-and that's how we'll finish out the year, what's left of it. There now, is that quite clear?"
"Uh-huh. Clear. But there's still a hitch. Suppose I make the same offer, what if she'd rather stay here with me?"
"Don't be ridiculous. You must be poison to her by now. She probably hates your guts."
"Okay, so I'm poison. I sting her tender little ass. But I'm willing to let her decide for herself-and as a pledge in good standing, she does have that right. What do you say, Diane? Want to stop squabbling and just leave it up to the kid?"
"Why not? It amounts to the same thing. I'm willing. But you'll lose for sure. How about it, any last words? Uh, you might try bribery ... "
"Bullshit!"
"Please. There are ladies present, All right, let's get it over with." Grinning gleefully, Diane swung around. "You heard, darling? You do understand, don't you?"
"I-I guess so." Kay felt the tension thicken. "You're serious about this? The choice is really mine?"
"Yours alone, dear. Choose."
Timid now, almost tremulous, Kay felt like a bunny rabbit between two slavering wolves. Being naked didn't help much either. Oh sure, that big dark body was nude, too, but it was a kind of flaunted nudity, almost scary. Anyway, even though her choice was obvious, common courtesy called for a delay, a phony little act to make it look like a difficult decision. Otherwise the loser might have added reason to be angry. And knowing this loser, it would be an anger that even wolves would fear.
She glanced at both of them, first one, then the other, less nervous now and beginning to enjoy the suspense herself. They were neither snarling nor slavering, thank heaven, but there the similarity ended; how could two such different actives be interested in the same pledge? Diane Fordyce was her usual dainty self, the expression on her beautiful face quite confident and yet with a touch of entreaty, almost wistful. Or perhaps it was just her eyes, dark eyes, dark and velvety; weren't they always like that? But from Ursula Baum's set visage there was nothing to be gleaned, no clue to what went on inside that head. Fat and ugly, she merely stood there motionless, stern, imposing, a creature big enough to inspire respect if not a certain horror. Her abrasive personality showed through as usual, communicating a sense of alienation almost automatically; could it be that she was really someone to pity?
Again and again, Kay's gaze shifted. And each time, out of sheer curiosity now, she was drawn more and more to that proud figure, seeking something pathetic but finding only arrogance. Her boldly inquisitive inspection brought an unforeseen bounty though, forcing her to see the girl for the first time, the entity itself and not just its reaction to her own presence. Up till that moment her view had been obscured by a lifetime of conditioning, the conditioning foisted upon every pretty girl by an ever-attentive surrounding world. A pretty girl takes no more than a cursory view of an ugly one, seeing her only in relation to herself. So it came as quite a revelation then, causing some changes of opinion, for Kay to extend her customary once over survey to a conscientious scrutiny.
The big body fascinated her. It was like Ursula herself, that body, big and strong and coarse and imbued with authority. Fat, yes, but as long as the first impression wasn't permanent, the pudgy outer shell merely disguised those rippling muscles underneath. Even the skin seemed different, glistening with sex, not sweat, exuding an inner eroticism that in turn lent new fire to the pigmentation; wasn't the color tawny now, smooth and sleek and sensuously tawny? Well, whatever. It was just different, everything, all new, all different, a body that beckoned without so much as a finger-twitch, "Come to me, pretty girl, come inside and see the splendors of my world!"
Kay didn't dare risk a clash with the beady black eyes; surely they must have turned to hypnotic jewels by now. And the hypnosis had already gone far enough for a little girl who still had bad dreams after a vampire movie. She didn't even know how much time had passed; wasn't it only a minute ago that the wolves closed in on the naked bunny rabbit? Hmm. Unreal. Oh shit, if she couldn't dig up some hard realities to reorient herself with ...
But of course! Good hard reality. She knew how strong those heavy arms were. She knew the power in those thick thighs. In the fingers with cores of steel. And her ass knew the misery of a week without a whip; what more did she need to end the suspense?
Funny, though, she couldn't think of the right words. Too choked up to say them anyway; a few steps in the right direction would have to do. If she could walk straight. With a little help? Oh, it was heaven to feel those big strong arms around her, heaven to cuddle into the protection of that big warm body. She didn't see much of Diane after that, just a kind of shocked look, along with some noise that sounded like the start of another hassle-but that was one advantage to siding with a heavyweight-Ursula just took over and pretty-soon the door slammed and the lock clicked and peace was restored. A brand-new peace that had to be properly cemented, though; wasn't it nice that lovers could agree so easily?
"This is a big moment for us, pretty puss. I feel kind of sentimental about it, you know? Just a big tender-hearted softie, that's me. Let's celebrate. You may choose tonight."
"Choose?"
"Don't worry, this choice should be simple."
"Oh. Oooh ... "
"Scat! Don't keep me waiting too long."
Giggling a little, Kay scampered off to the "closet and dug into the secret stash. She pawed over the items hurriedly, trying to find something suitable for this rather significant occasion. It popped up, not one of her favorites, actually-she was partial to the braided rawhide thongs-but just right for tonight. And with another giggle, she scurried back out again.
"Oh, you darling! You remembered. I guess you're sentimental, too. Our first belt, the one that brought us together. I couldn't ask for a better dessous-girl. You've made your Domina very happy. How did you ever think of it?"
Kay couldn't speak. Nor did she even try. She could only lay the leather belt in her Domina's hands and then sink to her knees and wait. And then, overwhelmed almost before it began, she succumbed completely to the spell of the slashing weapon, carried away by its deftly combined power and precision. In a way, though, it was too good to miss, too good to be given over to purely physical pleasure-especially on such an important night-and she tried desperately to hang on to a modicum of lucidity. It came and went in waves, exaggerating the contrast at either end and thus enhancing the enjoyment. Except that she couldn't understand how a perfect burst of ecstasy could be I overtaken and surpassed by yet another. Maybe it was all in her system of measurement, a matter of faulty gauges. Anyway, there were times when she shook and squirmed and even cried out in agony, but could only recall the joy as each concentration of heat radiated outward from her glowing ass to the tips of her tits and fingers and toes. At such moments she wondered if the belt-whip was going to goad her flesh to a climax. Or if it might even happen to Ursula, too.
She hoped not. It was better to be right in the middle at the instant of orgasm, right up there between those great thighs-in the middle of everything!-sucking that big hot lovable cunt at the very summit of its sexual satisfaction ...
"Kittycat? Come up now. Slowly. Up my legs."
"Oh, I love you."
"Show me, show me."
It was as if they could read each other's mind. Kay's mouth glided upward in eager compliance, spurred by the knowledge of her own desire to get there. And with an additional boost from the sentimental belt, of course, still wielded by that beloved hand, attuned to her every move. She got lost in one of those waves again, but must have come through on sheer instinct, aware suddenly that her trail of kisses had reached journey's end. Even now the hot cunt-lips seemed to be kissing her right back, sucking the tongue out of her mouth with an oozy tenacity.
"Mmm. Lovey. You do that so nicely."
"Umm ... because I love you ... "
"And because I took the time to train you, isn't that so?"
"Oh! It's so true, Domina."
"I made a good cuntlapper out of you."
"I'm grateful. I'll try to be better. The best. The best in the world, all for you. Will you help me, Domina?"
"Yeah. Me and my whip. We'll both help. And you'll learn all there is to know. And maybe a little bit more, hmm? Oh, we'll be great together, pussycunt, you won't regret the choice you made. I may not be beautiful, but so what? I've got a strong right arm-and that makes me beautiful, right?"
"Yeah. I'm getting close. Hot. Gimme some fuckface now and I'll cream you good. Fuckface! Yeah. And keep that bare ass of yours stuck up so I can whip ... whip ... whip ... "
Chapter 17
The vacation hadn't quite panned out the way it was supposed to, but Jolene was making the best of what she had. Only the little scamp was such a tease! A very lovely tease, though-in a way, almost as lovely as her sister. What was almost sacrilegious, considering how close that romance had been. But this one was a darling, just the same, with that tiny tilted nose and ripe pink lips-all of her, for that matter-oh, damn, it was impossible to be so near and not sneak a little caress ...
"Hey!"
"Sorry, darling."
"Oh sure, you're always sorry. And then you cop another feel, huh? You really are a dirty old bitch, you know?"
"I know. But why shouldn't I be? This is my vacation. Come on, Ginger, can't a housemother act like a dirty old bitch on her summer vacation?"
"Well ... "
"A dirty old lesbian bitch who runs around seducing pretty little girls. Just. Like. This!"
"Hey, quit that! I mean it. I did say later, remember? So let me finish reading my book, you bear?"
The emotional pitches in that childish voice were familiar to Jolene by now; she read the danger signal and gave up, letting the kid go back to her comic book. But she remained on the bed, ready to play naughty games at a moment's notice. Naughty games with a very naughty child. Sometimes it took only a few naughty words to excite the little rascal, and Jolene found herself talking dirty more and more often, using gutter language that would have sounded a bit raw even back at the Omega house. Just to heat the kid up for a little action.
Some kid. Jolene was already worrying about handling her two years from now, hoping against hope that the Lorimers might send her to some other school. But that seemed pretty doubtful. Oh well, it was still a school-year in the future; by that time the house would be under control. This would be an easy year, just as expected-with Merle Winthrop as president, things should go quite smoothly. The only genuine hellion in the group was that repulsive Ursula Baum creature, the new pledge-mistress, and she was too ugly and unpopular to be a real leader. Anyway, she was it certainly no Ardith. Or even half an Ardith.
Hmph! Half an Ardith. Jolene was still a little upset about that. The beach house was lovely and the parents gone, just the setup she had looked forward to. And then silly Ardith had gotten careless and stayed out in the sun with that allergic skin of hers; now she was in bed half the time and seeing a doctor in town the other half. Which would have been simply disastrous for this vacation if little Ginger hadn't shown up. What a charmer! If only she would be just a teenie-weenie bit more accommodating ...
"There. All finished."
"How did it come out?"
"Huh?"
"Your comic book, darling. Was story?"
"Jolene, you putting me on? Yeah, damn right you are. Just because I happen to like comics. I'll bet you think I'm pretty dumb, huh? Oh baby, have you got a surprise coming!"
"Tell me, tell me, I love surprises."
"Nope. When the time comes. And right now I've got something else on my mind. Same as you. Cunt-time."
"Oh?"
"Uh-huh. Now if I had me an available cunt-lapper ... "
"Selfish."
"Oh shit, let's not go through that again. Come on, you dirty old dyke, you know goddam well you're going to wind up licking the honey out of my honeypot. You're practically drooling already and you haven't even had a sniff yet. Here, sniff it. Sniff it and I'll bet your tongue hangs out."
"Naughty. Naughty little girl."
"Sure. I've got a naughty little cunt, too. Oh, hey, getting interested, huh? Tongue. Let's see it hang out. No! Don't touch my cunt, you horny old whore, I want to see your tongue hanging out for me first."
"Little monster, Watch, then. Like this?"
"Oooh, that's cute. You're a doll, Jolene. But only when you do what I tell you. Like now. Kiss it. Kiss my cunt. Get in there and suck, that's the way. Nnng ..."
It was a fine beginning for a night's fun. Thrilling to the response, Jolene mouthed the young flesh greedily, sinking her face between the tiny lips, not deep, just deep enough to give and receive pleasure and still avoid stretching the dainty thing. Fingers twined in her hair, guiding and pressing her a little deeper into the sweet musky moistness. And as she licked and lapped and all but swallowed the delicately scented flesh, the slim young legs rose up to embrace her and became a welcome yoke for her neck ...
"Jolene? Want to hear my surprise?"
"Mmm ... "
"This proves I'm not so dumb after all. You know what I've been doing all summer? Going to summer school. I took some extra courses last year and some more this summer and guess what, I'm finished with high school and I'll be in Omega Pi this year-hey, don't quit now, I'm just warming up. Suck me, suck me good!"
"Umm ... yesss ... "
"Get in deeper with your face. It's okay. Yeah. We'll have fun this year, you and me and Hilary. She'll be back, won't she? Hilary Rourke? What an ass-licker! I didn't believe Ardith at first, you know? Who could have a tongue like that? I'm going to be her special pledge-that way I won't have to take so much shit from the actives. But when the three of us get together-hey, you know something? I can hardly wait."
Jolene moaned, unable to separate the sex thrill from the words creeping through her ears and into her mind. It was like that awful nightmare feeling. She hadn't awakened yet Would the nightmare ever be over? Probably not. And maybe it was all for the best, just what a dirty old lesbian bitch needed. Uh-huh. Such a delicious nightmare ...
