| Victoria and Helen, Chapter 5 I woke up feeling mentally refreshed but physically demolished. Everything below my breasts was sore especially my upper legs and bum. Between my legs felt sort of crust and I thought it was so gross. I had trouble even making it to the bathroom because of the overworked muscles. It was more the funky crusty feeling that made me run a bath, but once I was in the hot water it eased the pain too. I scanned my surroundings as the discomfort was soothed, thinking that it was the most beautiful bathroom I'd ever seen in real life. It was like something out of magazines that I'd seen. Noticing my reflection in the mirror put a damper on my recovery. I could only see my upper body in the mirror which immediately brought the feelings of shame. My misshapen boobies made me feel like a freak. I know that I should have talked to mommy about it but I was too embarrassed to even do that. Mom was always big on privacy and modesty so there really weren't any naturally occurring opportunities. I just never found a way to raise the subject even though mom had always answered the questions I asked about my development and what she called female issues. My mind was drawn to bedtime last night when Auntie Helen had helped me undress. The recollection refreshed the negative feelings about the appearance of my rapidly developing chest, but the inadequacy I felt was laced with something else. The something else was the feeling in my tummy that felt sort of nice but was troubling at the same time. I couldn't understand it—like needing something but not being able to figure out what it was. When she'd touched me that sensation got so much stronger and seemed to drop from low in my tummy all the way down to my crotch. I so wanted to give into that feeling to let it fill me but I was too shy. 'We can work on that,' that's what she'd said about my retarded boobie. 'What did she mean?' I found myself wishing that she'd come in, maybe with a snack like she had yesterday. I knew that I'd get embarrassed again but it was worth it if it made that feeling stronger. Maybe it could even get as strong as it had been when we were riding. Oh my God the feeling I'd gotten bouncing up and down the way Julia had shown me gushed in my belly. My hand went between my legs as if it had a mind of its own. As soon as I touched myself I pulled my hand away again. "Owww," I said out loud discovering how sore I was. That really put a damper on things. I washed myself being particularly gentle between my legs. After I dried off I returned to the bedroom and looked around for my clothes. The riding habit was lying over the back of a chair—that's not what I wanted. It dawned on me that we hadn't gone back into the change room to get my stuff. Not a problem I had other clothes with me. I selected a fresh pair of undies and shorts but realized that the bra I'd arrived in had gone in the wash; even though it probably didn't need to. The only other one I had was back at the stable. 'Why do you wear this thing around the house?' Auntie Helen's words from last night at bedtime came back to me. Then just a few hours ago in the stable she's said, 'Don't you like to be free?' Mom wouldn't approve but she wasn't here to object, so I pulled on a fresh T shirt over my bare boobies, and headed for the living room. Auntie was right it did feel good to be 'free' as she put it, but it made me very conscious of my breasts. I found my guardian curled up on the couch with a book. The reading glasses she wore rested near the end of her nose and made her look rather scholarly. I was reminded that she was a college professor and so had more education and experience than anyone else in my life up to that time. The thought occurred that perhaps I could ask her some of the questions that I'd never found a way to raise with mommy, but the idea of discussing those sensations with her made me shiver. I stood there just watching her for a long moment, trying to figure out how to announce my presence without startling her. The old thoughts of her as a movie star reemerged. She was one of, if not the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. From her beautifully styled red hair to her fine delicate features my eyes continued to take in the rest of her body. She was wearing a summery dress with thin shoulder straps. Taking in the swirling pattern of the dress I thought her boobs didn't look as big as they had the last time I'd taken notice of them. When I realized that it was because she was also braless the feeling in my tummy shocked me. She shifted as she turned the page and the movement under the bodice of her dress intensified that yearning hungry feeling and made it drop even lower. There was a very visible extra bump on top of the boob closest to me. I tried to understand why her breasts would affect me that way but I couldn't. I quickly resumed my scan feeling like I'd done something wrong. Her knees were bent and her feet were curled up under her which left most of her bare legs exposed. I couldn't see her lower legs or her feet but what I could see further fueled the movie star or fashion model image I had of her. It was like I was mesmerized, so I jumped when she spoke. "Did you have a good rest?" It was ironic that I'd been standing there silently, worried about startling her, and it was she who startled me. "Yeah I really needed that," I responded. "And how are you feeling otherwise?" she asked setting her book aside and placing the reading glasses on top of it. "I'm a bit sore," I confided feeling uncomfortable with the admission. "I took a bath, and that helped quite a bit." "Good," she said. "I know it's hard on your legs until you get used to it." "Is it your legs ... mostly?" she asked to confirm her assumption but she seemed to be implying that it could be something else. I certainly couldn't tell her that my vagina was sore—could I? Even though I was becoming ever more comfortable with her; which was surprising in such a short time. She had an easy going, kind manner and already had my respect and admiration to start with. Older than my mother, and for all I knew maybe old enough to be my grandmother and yet I thought of her more like a friend or an older sister—a much older sister. "Yeah my legs are the worst," I agreed, not excluding other parts entirely. "You know the horses get a brushing and rub down after the ride ... maybe I should treat you like a horse," she suggested, and then chuckled as an afterthought. The fine, almost invisible, hairs on my body all stood on end and my skin began to tingle. 'Could she possibly be serious?' the thought made me slightly dizzy and quite speechless. I guess my facial expression gave me away. "Would you like me to rub your legs?" "It'll make them feel better." Okay ... now it wasn't a tingle anymore. It was like my skin had developed an electric charge. A blue spider web of arcs connected all the standing hairs. "I ... uh, I..." half of me wanted to say yes and the other half was scared to death. Helen got up from the couch and put her arm around me. "Come on, I've got some great massage lotion that gets warm when you rub it in ... sort of like liniment but it smells much nicer." Before I could really grasp what she was saying she was guiding me down the hall. She went ahead of me into her bedroom; reaching back she took my hand encouraging me to follow. Once inside the spectacularly beautiful room she let go and went over to her dresser. Without looking back she said, "You should take your bottoms off ... this is great stuff but it can stain sometimes." The words seemed to rattle around in my head. At some level I understood immediately what she was suggesting but part of my brain refused to believe it. I was still standing there like a statue when Auntie went into her bathroom, returned with a huge bath sheet and spread it out on the bed. It wasn't part of the plan. It was as though The Poet herself had intervened on my behalf. To not take full and complete advantage of the gift would be sacrilege. I was aware of Vicki as soon as she'd entered the living room but pretended to be absorbed in my reading. I'd watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of my eye for a full minute before I spoke. The way she was looking at me gave me goose bumps. I tried to tell myself that I could be reading a lot more into her head to toe inspection than was actually there, but the possibility was just too stimulating to be easily quashed. My nipples were tingling and itching. I knew without checking that they were poking at the front of my sundress. I so wanted to squeeze my tits to assuage the itch but that would be sort of vulgar and might shock my young target, so I shifted just a little hoping for some relief—bad idea! That only made it worse as the sensitive tips rubbed against the inside of my dress. When I finally decided to stop pretending to read while getting hornier by the second, I was taken aback by her shocked reaction. She actually jumped. It drove home how focused she had been—but focused on what ... exactly. As the conversation unfolded the thrilling potential began swirling in my head. My suggestion—my offer—was innocent and benign right up until I'd told her to drop her pants. That critical flourish didn't even occur to me until we were in the bedroom. I laid the towel out to protect the bedspread, although in truth the massage gel didn't really leave any marks. My ward hadn't moved and I examined her face to make sure that I hadn't overstepped. There was an element of fear in her expression but it wasn't the largest component; I read nervousness with a large dash of curiosity all wrapped in trust. That was a good thing. "Let me help," I offered. It seemed like I'd said that before. She stood completely motionless as I unfastened and let the shorts fall around her ankles. The panties were pink this time and looked a bit older; thinner and tighter. It was quite similar to when I'd gotten her out of the riding britches with two notable exceptions. The first was that she was wide awake. The second was that there was no evidence of preexisting arousal on her underwear—mine were another matter altogether. Lowering her panties brought my face within inches of her girlhood. For the umpteenth I had to dig for more self-control than I thought I possessed. This was becoming quite a character building experience. I was confident that it would ultimately culminate in sexual encounter of epic proportions; if I could just maintain control. The blonde peach fuzz coated the plumpness of her vulva. The cleft down the center was defined by a rosy pink line hinting at the unexplored treasures hidden by the fleshy furry clam shell. "Lie down on your tummy," I instructed while I encouraged her toward the bed. I almost missed the palm of my hand with the massage gel because I was staring down at her heart shaped ass. Trapping the gooey slick substance between my hands to warm it, the chemical reaction took over. I felt the lubricant begin to generate its own heat and applied my greasy hands to Vicki's right leg just above the ankle. Working my way up the calf muscle pressing firmly with my thumbs each made a sort of rotary motion. "Mmmmm..." the girl sighed. "It feels good ... doesn't it," I prompted needlessly. "Yeah," she affirmed sounding dreamy. Her arms were folded on the pillow and her head was turned to the side. I could see her full pouty lips were open as she breathed deeply. It wasn't the lips on her face that I was most interested in. I slid my hands back down to her ankle and repeated the massage of the right calf two more times before briefly squeezing and pushing on the back of her knee. Putting more of the self-heating massage gel in my palm I began working my way up her thigh squeezing and digging my thumbs into the shapely column. Vicki made contented grunts as I plied her overworked muscle. Moving ever higher she shifted slightly and moved her legs wider. I was more than halfway up and could now see that her bright pink inner lips were clearly defined down the center of her crease. Despite the warmth of my own hands and the artificial heat from the massage oil the heat radiating from her girlhood became noticeable on the sensitive back of my hand. I was nearly at the top when she parted her legs even further. Her grunts had become deeper and sounded less contented—more strained. Back down to her knee I massaged my way up her supple right thigh a little more quickly the second time around. Again as I approached the inferno between her legs she opened wider still. Her thin pink inner labia were getting visibly darker and spreading like blossoming flower petals. I could now make out the tunnel of flesh where the lips met. Poking from the mouth of her cone shaped hood her raisin sized clitoral glans looked slightly lighter in color. I felt her baby soft pubes brush the muscle between my thumb and forefinger I began the third cycle down at her knee. This time squeezing my way up quite quickly until the back of my hand brushed her sex firmly enough that I could feel the soft dampness of her swollen vulva on the back of my hand. "Aaahhhh..." she wailed and her hips lifted slightly off the bed as if seeking to increase the pressure of the accidental intimate touch. Refreshing the supply of lubricant on my hands I gripped her left ankle and began the replay. She was relatively silent as I massaged her other calf and knee, but I could tell that she was breathing rapidly. The rapid breaths became almost gasps as I moved to her thigh. Two thirds of the way up she groaned and her hips lifted of the bed and began to twitch. I could see the clear juice trickling from between the engorged lips of her girlhood. In spite of the goo on my hand felt some of the hot slippery cream transfer to my skin as I brushed against them. My own pussy was thumping in appreciation. "How about your butt ... does it need a rubdown too?" I can't say that I'd never felt pressure like this before. It was similar to the tightness that developed during the riding lesson. What was new was that I could feel my pulse between my legs—right in the very middle. Later on I decided that I hadn't felt that while I was on horseback because of the persistent slapping of the saddle. My legs, all the way down to my feet, were glowing with the warmth from the oil my aunt had massaged into them. I think by this time the aches were completely gone but the incredible sensation in my lower belly and right between my legs was so intense that I really wasn't conscious of anything else. When her hand brushed against my pubic hair ever so lightly the electric tingle consumed me again; like every nerve in my body was ready to explode. 'If she just touches me a little harder there it's going to happen,' I was sure. When she offered to continue the massage on my bum I wanted to scream 'YES!' but I couldn't seemed to make my voice work. I would have done anything to keep her tantalizing hands on me. The best I could manage was a strange sound that I didn't even know I could make. She gripped both of my cheeks at once and began to squeeze and roll them. Pulling them apart then pushing them together. It was such a wonderful feeling that I became delirious. I know my hips were moving in a sort of circular motion but it was involuntary—instinctive. The sharp slap on my ass shot up through my vagina to my head. The butt cheek that had been spanked was stinging but it felt wonderful. "I've got to attend to dinner," Helen announced and I realized to my disappointment that she was no longer sitting over me. I opened my eyes in time to see her disappear into her washroom; then I heard water splashing in the sink. Everything below my waist felt like it was glowing. My hips were still moving on their own—sort of twitching—but the pulsations in my crotch were already fading as was the surprisingly pleasurable sting from my spanked bum. Even the hot pressure below my tummy was taking on a new character. I couldn't call it an ache but it had a needy wanting feeling to it. "You should put on some long pants ... like sweat pants if you have any. It'll help keep the heat in," Helen suggested as she exited the room. I just lay there with the marvelous sensations subsiding waiting for my breathing to return to normal. |