Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Muffi

We collected up the mountain of luggage and carried it up the stairs to my room. Sara was impressed by my playground-sized bed, and she thought the mirrored walls were “really cool.” I was thanking whatever deity was responsible for the fact that I’d never installed a ceiling mirror. Try explaining that to a nine-year-old girl.

Why do I have a mirror on the ceiling? Oh, I’m just so pretty, I like to fall asleep looking at myself.

“Aunt Meagan, are we gonna go any place today?”

“I don’t know, Sweetie, why?”

“Cos if we’re not,” she said, “then we don’t have to stay dressed. We can put on PJs or sweats or something.”

Yeah, it was going to be a long day and night.

“Well,” I said, “I don’t know. Do you two want to do anything special, or do you want to just hang out and watch movies and do silly girl stuff?”

The two of them looked at each other for a moment.

“Movies and girl stuff!” shrieked Janelle.

“Yeah, movies and girl stuff!” Sara joined in, the two of them jumping up and down.

“Well, you two are easy to please,” I said. “Okay, movies and girl stuff it is.”

Two backpacks were thrown to a corner of the room. From the sound of it, they were both filled with school books. Sara opened her duffel bag, and Janelle was ripping into one of her other backpacks. Little girl clothing started to fly about the room as they rummaged around looking for something suitable to change into. I shook my head. Clean up was going to be fun, trying to sort out who owned what.

Almost before I knew it, I was in the presence of two little nine-year-old girls wearing nothing but panties and socks. They were both sorting through tee-shirts, searching out which they wanted to wear.

Dear God. Be still, my beating heart, I thought.

Fortunately for me, my back was facing the corner of the room where the two mirrored walls come together. I say fortunately because if I’d been looking at the mirrors, I would have been looking at multiple images of them. One of each was enough, thank you. More than that, I couldn’t handle right now.

Janelle was facing away, which gave the fast-growing pervert in me a chance to gaze at her cute little panty-clad ass for a moment. I had to tear my eyes away, or risk being caught drinking in that delicious sight. Jesus, I had descended into utter depravity.

Sara had already pulled a mid-thigh length tee-shirt over her head. I was grateful. The length would keep any flashing of her panties to a minimum. Janelle, on the other hand, had chosen a tee-shirt that fell only to the tops of her thighs, barely covering her pert little ass.

I was doomed. Fucking doomed.

Janelle spun around and stared at me expectantly. “Well? Aren’t you gonna wear something comfy, too, Aunt Meagan?”

Mentally shaking myself, I gave the girls a nervous smile. “Yup, I am,” I mumbled.

I kicked off my sneakers, then shucked out of my jeans and pulled my shirt off. I was acutely aware of the two little girls standing there, watching me change. Being aware of that, it seemed that I just couldn’t help myself. I slowed my movements. Perverted as it was, I wanted to parade around half naked for them.

Exhibitionist that I am, I bent at the waist and dug through my drawer for a few moments, knowing I was giving them a blatant view of my ass. Then I straightened up and turned around, holding a tee-shirt. I raised my arms and let it fall over me, hoping, without daring to look, that the girls had been peeking at my breasts.

In my head I could hear Ellie and Nellie from the living room. We’re watching you…

“Okay, you two,” I said, shaking out my hair. “Why don’t you go down and find a movie you want to watch, and I’ll go make some popcorn. Sound good?”

It must have sounded good, because the two girls disappeared almost in a blink.

I have a fairly extensive collection of DVDs. A good portion of them are kids movies. Having Janelle around a lot gives me a good excuse to have them. Besides, I like Disney movies. Sue me.

When I’d finished the popcorn — which took a few minutes since I make the real kind, done in a pot on the stove and slathered with butter and salt — I returned to the living room to find that we weren’t watching a Disney movie after all. Close enough, though. The girls had put chosen Madagascar. I could live with that. Chris Rock as the annoying Marty the Zebra never fails to make me giggle.

I handed each girl a couple of paper towels and put the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. They sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, while I sat on the couch, one girl on either side of my feet. I passed out cans of ginger ale to the girls, cracked one open for me, and settled in to watch.

There was little discussion through the movie. When it was over, I was left with two little girls whose faces and hands were smeared with melted butter, so I herded them into the kitchen for a wipe down. That accomplished, we returned to the living room, and began the next feature, which natually was Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa.

As the movie was loading, Sara noticed that Janelle’s toenails were painted to match her fingernails. “You got painted toenails, too? That’s cool!”

Janelle proudly held a foot up for display. “I was ‘posed to wear sandals yesterday for my party, but then I talked my Mom into lettin’ me wear that leather outfit, instead of the dress ‘n sandals she wanted me to wear. Aunt Meagan painted ’em for me. Want yours done, too? I bet she’d paint ’em for ya if ya do.”

My services were being volunteered. Goody.

Janelle had turned to face me. “Wouldn’t’cha, Aunt Meagan?”

“If Sara wants me to, sure,” I said. Sara’s grin told me all I needed to know.

I gathered the necessary items together, and sat down cross-legged on the living room floor. Sara sat in front of me, clearly thrilled. I began to repeat the process that I had gone through with Janelle a couple of days ago. Sara seemed to share Janelle’s propensity for having squirmingly ticklish feet. Getting cotton balls inserted between her toes took a few minutes.

Once her toenails were finished, I asked Sara if she’d like me to paint her fingernails as well. She loved the idea.

Welcome to Meagan Bristol’s Nail Salon. I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d done my own nails, prior to preparing for Janelle’s birthday party. Anyhow, I told her that we should let her toes dry completely before painting her fingernails.

As suppertime came closer and closer, I asked Sara what she likes on pizza. Cheese and pepperoni. Of course.

“No mushrooms?” Janelle asked incredulously.

Sara shook her head vigorously. “Mushrooms’re gross!” she proclaimed.

Three small pizzas, then. One with pepperoni and mushrooms, one with pepperoni only, and a third with everything, including the kitchen sink. The girls squinched their faces in disgust when they heard me specify extra anchovies on mine.

Several hours later, I told the girls that it was time to think about getting ready for bed. “You two have school tomorrow,” I reminded them, “so you need to either shower or take a bath. Which do you want?”

They wanted to shower. Then they decided that it was just as easy to take one together. I herded them up the stairs to my room, where they each pulled out clean pairs of panties, then ambled into the bathroom. The two tee-shirts hit the floor along the way, their socks close behind. Finally, two pairs of panties wound up in a small heap next to the bath mat.

I turned on the shower, doing my best to avoid looking at either girl any more than I absolutely had to. My heart was throbbing like a V-8 engine.

Two naked little girls climbed into the shower. I heard some squealing for a moment, then Janelle piped up. “Aren’t you gonna take a shower, too, Aunt Meagan?”

I froze. “Uhmm, it’s okay, Sweetie. I can take mine when you and Sara are finished.”

“But why?” she asked, in perfect innocence. “There’s room for all of us.”

She was right. My shower is roomy.

Watch your step, I heard Ellie and Nellie say from the living room.

Half of me wanted to avoid that shower at all costs. That part, the sensible part, wanted to run into the bedroom and hide until the girls were finished.

That part lost the argument. With shaking hands, I pulled my tee-shirt over my head, then shoved my panties down, stepping out of them. “Okay, coming in,” I said, taking a deep breath as I opened the shower door.

Two drenched little girls were waiting for me, their hair slicked back and streaming water down over their little butts. The water made their little bodies gleam in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. They were both grinning widely at me.

I was glad for the water. It would have been awkward trying to explain the wetness growing between my thighs without the water to camouflage it.

As I began to soap myself, Sara looked at me with a growing curiosity. “How come you don’t have hardly any hair down there?” she asked.

“Uhmm… well, because I shave most of it off,” I said. For some reason, I felt mildly embarrassed.

Janelle was staring at my pussy openly, puzzlement showing plainly on her face. I wondered if she had just never noticed my lack of pubes before, or if she’d been reluctant to ask about it. She must not have noticed. Believe me, there are precious few questions that Janelle would hesitate to ask.

“How come?” Sara asked.

It just feels so much nicer when I touch myself, or when someone else touches me, without the hair there. Yeah, sure. I’ll bet her parents would really appreciate that explanation.

“I just don’t like to have a lot of hair on my body,” I replied. “Hair is for men.”

“My mom has hair down there,” Sara responded.

“Well, I would too, if I didn’t shave it off.”

“Doesn’t it hurt to shave it?” she asked.

“No,” I replied with a smile. “It doesn’t hurt.”

They were both still staring openly at my vulva. Be careful what you wish for, Meagan. You wanted to show your body off for the girls a few minutes ago. Looks like you got your wish. Unsettling, isn’t it?

“Besides,” I said, doing my best to ignore that voice in my head. “I think it’s prettier without all that hair there.”

“But nobody ever sees it,” said Janelle. “Who cares what it looks like?”

“I see it,” I replied. “My girlfriends see it. Besides, you two are seeing it right now, aren’t you?”

“That’s different,” said Janelle. “We’re taking a shower.”

Time to end this conversation. “Okay, cut it out, you guys! I just don’t like all that hair down there, okay?”

Both girls looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and I felt like a complete fool. Suddenly, Janelle handed me the soap. “Do our backs, Aunt Meagan?”

I took the soap with shaking hands. As they turned, I closed my eyes for a moment. Give me strength, please, I begged silently to some god out there. Preferably, one who looks out for gay women.

I grabbed a washcloth from the bar on the inside of the shower door. That’ll work, I told myself. If I use a washcloth, I won’t feel their soft, smooth skin under my fingers.

Calmer now, I lathered up the washcloth and began to scrub Janelle’s back. Yeah, sure. I wasn’t conscious at all of running my hand over the body of a naked little girl. No problem here, no sirree.

As I began to scrub lower, moving onto the swell of her little ass, my eyes were riveted to the swelling globes. So cute, so perfectly formed…

Stop it!

I quickly finished with Janelle’s back, then turned to Sara. I started at her shoulders, and worked my way down. Then I gasped.

At the small of her back, just above her pelvic bone, there was a dark, purplish bruise. It was a rounded rectangular shape. I stared at it for a moment, slowing down my scrubbing, trying to figure out what it looked like. Then it dawned on me.

I closed my hand for a moment and studied it. The bruise was a perfect imprint of a fist. Sara had been punched in the kidney. Hard. The bruise was much bigger than my own closed fist.

Whoever had hit her had big hands. A man’s hands.

I felt anger bubbling up inside of myself. No, that’s a lie. I felt rage starting to boil over.

Somehow I forced myself to stay calm as I continued to wash Sara’s back. When I finished, being careful to avoid what looked like a very painful bruise, I kept my voice neutral. “What happened to your back, Sara?”

“Huh?” She hesitated. “Oh… uh, I fell.”

“Ouch,” I said. “That must have hurt. Looks like it still does.” Janelle was looking at Sara’s back, too.

“It hurt at first,” she said. “But it’s not so bad now.”

“How’d you fall?” I asked her.

“I, uh… I tripped going up the steps on the porch,” she said.

Which would have caused you to fall face forward, I thought, the rage continuing to build.

I decided to stop questioning Sara. It was obviously making her nervous. I’d sort out what to do next after I thought about it, hopefully calmed down a bit. That wouldn’t be easy.

“Next time, be more careful going up the stairs, silly!” I told her.

She had turned to face me again, now. She smiled nervously at me, nodding. “I will,” she said. “Sometimes I’m clumsy. That’s what my dad says.”

Clumsy. Yeah, sure. So clumsy of you, Sara, running into his fist like that. You need to learn to be more careful.

Our eyes remained locked for a moment. I knew. She knew that I knew. She looked away.

I tried to bring back the light mood from before. “C’mon, you two! Wash your hair, and then let’s get out of here and have cookies and milk in bed!”

Janelle squealed with delight. So did Sara, but a beat late. She was smiling like Janelle, but the smile seemed forced. I could tell that she was trying to bring back the happy vibe from before, to forget that bruise on her back.

The three of us got our hair washed, rinsed and conditioned, and got out of the shower. We dried off, the two girls put their clean panties on, I slipped into my tee-shirt, then they followed me to the bedroom. They wriggled back into their tee-shirts, I stepped into my panties on, and we all crawled onto the bed.

Now what? Well, for starters, I had to get Sara alone to question her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax, much less sleep, until I found out how she got that ugly mark on her back.

“Janelle,” I said, “why don’t you turn on the TV and find something we can watch in bed?” Then I turned to Sara, giving her a big smile. “Sara, would you help me get cookies and milk for all of us?”

She got down from the bed, still trying her best to be cheerful. It made me ache inside, seeing this soft-spoken little girl suppressing her feelings behind a strained grin.

I tossed Janelle the remote for the small bedroom television, and Sara and I went to the kitchen for snacks.

When we got to the kitchen, I placed my cookie jar on the table, then put a large plate next to it. “Can you fill up the plate, Sweetie?” I said. “Pile them as high as you can… I think we’re all pretty hungry.”

I silently poured three glasses of milk, then put the carton back in the refrigerator. Then I sat down at the table and took Sara’s right hand, looking into her frightened eyes.

“Sara, I’m not going to try and make you tell me anything that you don’t want to,” I said, calmly as I could. “But you and I both know that you didn’t hurt your back like that falling on your porch steps.”

I could feel her shiver. “I… I d-don’t…” She fell silent.

“Someone hit you,” I said simply. She looked away, unable to meet my gaze. I felt her trying to pull away, but held onto her hand. “I’m not going to push you, Sweetie,” I said. “But if you ever need anything, if you ever need help, or just someone to talk to, all you have to do is ask me, okay?”

Sara’s head moved in a barely-perceptible nod.

I wasn’t sure how she’d take it, but I did it anyway: I wrapped my arms around the child and hugged close, careful to avoid her lower back. She smelled sweet and clean, freshly showered.

What she said next made me freeze, catching my breath.

“Sometimes I’m bad.”

When I could breathe again, I drew back, seeking her eyes. She wouldn’t look at me.

“I don’t believe that, Sara,” I said.

She nodded slowly. “I am,” she said. “My dad gets mad at me sometimes, ’cause I’m bad.”

Using every ounce of inner strength I had to remain calm, I put my hands on her shoulders and waited for her eyes to meet mine before I spoke. “Sara, listen to me, okay? I don’t care what you might do to make your father angry with you. No one deserves to be hit. No one, not for any reason. Do you understand? No one has any right to hurt you.”

She didn’t look as if she believed me. I didn’t want to push her any further, though. It felt like a victory that I’d gotten her to open up to me this much. Best to let her decide if, and when, she wanted to say more.

“Come on,” I said, clearly changing the subject. “Janelle must be wondering why we’re taking so long.”

Sara smiled wanly and nodded. I handed her two glasses of milk, and picked up the plate of cookies and my own glass. We headed back up to the bedroom without a word.

The upside? I was no longer fighting my feelings of lust at being so close to two barely dressed little girls. Lust was the last thing on my mind right now.

Okay, let’s clarify that. Sexual lust was gone. There was still lust there. This was more on the order of bloodlust, though. I welcomed it.

Less than an hour later, the two girls were sleeping soundly. I turned the volume down on the television, but left it turned on. Then I padded out to the hall and went to my office, where I picked up the phone and called Kate.

After I’d apologized for calling late, I explained everything that had happened. She was silent for a moment when I’d finished.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said quietly.

“Jesus has nothing to do with this, Kate,” I said.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “You know how Social Services works in this state. They’ll investigate, he’ll cry and say he’s sorry, they drop the case, and then he’ll be twice as hard on her after they stop breathing down his neck. I don’t even want to think about what Sara’s mother must have to deal with.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “So now what?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said. “But I do know that Sara is going to be asked to spend as much time as possible with Janelle. That way, she’ll have more time away from him. The two of them can hang out here after school. At least that gives her a few extra hours of peace every day.”

“But that still doesn’t solve anything,” she said quietly.

“No, it doesn’t,” I said. “Let me think on this for a little bit.” There was a tiny seed of an idea beginning to sprout in my mind. “I know someone who might be able to help.”

“Like who?”

“Well, like Michelle.”

“The cop? I thought you two weren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Not romantically. But we’re still friends. And she’ll keep her mouth shut if I ask her to.”

“Well, it’s a place to start, I guess,” she said.

“Yeppers. And I’m going to have Sara call her mother in the morning. See if it’s okay for her to come over here and hang out with Janelle after school.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” She paused. “We have to do something, Meagan.”

“Yes, we do,” I replied. “I’m not going to let that fucker keep hurting her. She’s nine years old, for God’s sake. I’ll put a bullet in his head myself, if I have to.”

Kate was silent for a moment. “Don’t do anything stupid, Meagan, please,” she said. “I know it’s hard to think about Sara having to be in that situation for one more second. But you won’t solve anything if you get into trouble trying to help her.”

I sighed. My little sister, the voice of fucking reason. She was right, though. “Yeah, yeah,” I said.

“I know. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Uh, Meagan? You are being good. You’re trying to help a little girl. What I’m saying is that you need to be patient, no matter how hard that might be.”

I hate it when Kate is right.

“I know. Listen, I’m going to get off here, and give Michelle a call. I want to try to figure out my next step here.”

“Okay, hon,” she said. “Keep me posted, okay?”

“I will,” I said. “Night.”

“Night, big sister.”

I hung up the phone and stood, pacing back and forth in the office for a few moments. I went to the kitchen, and poured myself a short shot of whiskey, tossed it back, and decided to bite the bullet. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the phone.

Like Kate said, Michelle is an ex-girlfriend of mine. We had a brief, but extremely intense relationship. What ended things was that we were simply too alike in personality. We both tend to be dominating women, and the constant struggle for power destroyed any chance there might have been for a long-term thing between us.

When we parted, Michelle and I stayed friends, though it was always a rather uneasy friendship. Too much history, I suppose.

But our personal issues aside, Michelle is a genuinely good person, and a hell of a cop. You constantly hear policemen saying that they took up the badge “to help people,” which is one of the oldest cliches in the book – but in her case, it’s the truth. That whole “To Protect and Serve” mentality is something that she truly believes and lives.

She’d be able to offer a sounding board for me, if nothing else. And because this involved a little girl being harmed, she’d be every bit as passionate about this situation as I was.

I dialed Michelle’s cell number from memory. She answered immediately, a hint of surprise in her voice. It had been a few months since I last called. “Meagan? What’s up?”

“Michelle, hi,” I said. Skipping the preliminaries, I got right to it. “Listen, I’ve got a problem, and I need some advice.”

“What’s up?” she said.

“First, are you on duty?” I asked.

“Nope. Just signed out.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. That meant she wouldn’t be called away unexpectedly.

I spilled the whole thing, from the first time that I’d met Sara, to my conversation with her in the kitchen earlier tonight. I didn’t leave anything out, with one exception: Sara’s last name. I wanted to hear what Michelle had to say first. If she went all by-the-book on me, I’d keep Sara’s identity to myself. Somehow, I knew that going through the official channels would probably do more harm than good with this situation. My hope was that Michelle would feel the same way.

When I’d finished, Michelle was silent for a moment. “Son of a bitch,” she finally hissed.

“Yeah,” I said. “Michelle, this bruise on her back… that fucker punched her hard. Right in the kidney, for Christ’s sake.”

I heard her suck in a deep breath. “Don’t tell me who he is,” she said. “If I know, I’ll have to do something official.”

“Okay,” I said. Good. She wasn’t going to be the cop for this.

“Listen,” she said, “is there any way you can get a picture of her back? I mean, without letting her know what you’re doing?”

“Maybe,” I replied. “What for?”

“Because, if all else fails,” she said, “and it has to go into the system, you’re going to want documentation of any injuries.”

I thought for a moment. “Uhmm… I could set up my laptop in the bedroom, and try to maneuver her into position so that the webcam gets a shot of her back,” I said.

“High res cam?” she asked.

“Please, Michelle,” I said. “You know me and my computer equipment.”

She laughed. “Sorry. That was a stupid question, wasn’t it? Well, try to get a picture of the bruise.
Get her as close as you can, so it’s as detailed as possible.”

She fell silent again for a few heartbeats. When she did speak, I was more surprised than I let on. “And Meagan?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you and I should go and pay this guy a visit.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Michelle. If we show up at the house together and start in on him in front of his family, it’ll just piss him off more. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to do anything that you’d have to make official?”

“Who said I’d go in an official capacity? And you’re right, if we humiliate him in front the wife and daughter, he’ll end up taking it out on them.”

“So what then?” I asked. I was unsure how I felt about her getting so deeply involved in this. Michelle and I are friends, and I still like her. Our being lovers just didn’t work out. But this whole “we” thing was making me uncomfortable.

“Give me a day to think about it,” Michelle said. “I’ll dig into this guy and see what I can turn up, like if he has a rap sheet. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what I find out. Give me any information you have about him.”

“Hang on.” I dug out the phone book and thumbed through the pages until I found him. “His name is Charles Davidson. The address in the phone book just says McConnell Road, no number.”

“Know how to get there?”

I gave her directions to where the house was located, then added, “His wife’s name is Colleen, the daughter is Sara, no “H.” That’s all I know.”

“That’s a start,” she said. “I’ll see what I can find out about him. I’ll call you tomorrow. And Meagan?”

“Yeah?”

“One way or another, we’ll stop this guy. You’re doing the right thing. For now at least, we’re going to do this without filing any kind of reports or getting Social Services involved. If it ends up that we have to go through the system, fine. But I’d rather avoid that. They’re not nearly as effective as they like to think they are.”

“Thanks, Michelle,” I said. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

“No problem, pretty lady,” she said. “Night.”

Pretty lady, I noted as I racked the phone. Great. I don’t need any terms of endearment. I don’t want to be obligated to Michelle for anything. Then I thought about that bruise on little Sara’s back.

Sometimes, the cost doesn’t matter. You just have to fix something, no matter what the price is. This needed to be fixed.

I turned off the light in the office and returned to the bedroom. Easing myself into bed, not wanting to awaken the girls, I found a place where I could lay in reasonable comfort. The two of them were sprawled out, taking up a good section of the bed. Thankfully, my bed is rather on the large side.

I awoke at one point to find myself with two little heat leeches curled up around me, one on either side. I was used to this from Janelle. She tends to cling when we sleep in the same bed, which is a fairly regular occurrence. It wasn’t until tonight that it had taken on a whole new level of meaning for me. Sara was also clinging to me, her head resting against one breast. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen her look truly at peace since I’d met her.

I drifted back to sleep.

Continue on to Chapter 5