Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

For a useful summary of the plot thus far, please consult the Chapter Links before reading.

by kinkys_sis and kinkychic

My lover Marianna had just called herself “the captain’s woman.” I loved the thought of it as I repeated it in my mind several times. But then, I began to think of the problems. Her next words were uncanny, as though she had read my mind.

 “What will we do, Bren? May I stay with you? Does this pirate code of yours allow that?”

My mind had already been churning over those very thoughts. I didn’t yet know Marianna’s situation – what had happened that would lead her to give up a comfortable life ashore? Besides, it had taken time for some members of the crew to accept me as captain. Would they acquiesce to the presence of another woman on board, especially one who enjoyed the captain’s special favour? Then there were the hazards of our trade: how could I ask Marianna to put her life at risk?

I told her of my thoughts and my worries until she put a finger to my lips. “Shush, my love. You live with danger, so why shouldn’t I? I would share it with you. I could prove to your men that I am quite capable of fighting alongside them.”

“It would take a good deal to convince them.”

She pointed at the crossed pair of rapiers that hung on the bulkhead. “Can you use those? Or are they just for display?”

“Of course I can use them, though I prefer a cutlass. Why?”

“We, my love, will give them a demonstration of my skills. I have been well taught. I might surprise you.”

I had the gun captain solder a musket ball to the tip of each rapier, while Marianna rummaged through my sea chest in search of more practical clothes.

After our eyes had adjusted to the brilliant sunlight, I called the first mate to have the men stand down. He was also the only other person aboard familiar with the rapier, and so he would judge the contest. There would be no rules other than the first to make three strikes against her opponent would be declared the winner.

I took nothing for granted. I knew that most of the Spanish aristocracy were skilled with the rapier. But I was tougher and better muscled than Marianna, and I thought, more used to fighting.

Her smile was as dazzling as ever, but I saw the glint in her eyes. The moment she took up her stance, I knew I would have to be at my best.

She moved with the lightness of a cat as we began to circle before she suddenly lunged. One foot stamped forward, the rapiers touched, then she caught me by surprise when she pirouetted. With one flick of her wrist, the tip of her rapier was against my throat. Had we been fighting in earnest, I would have been dead. The crew had been raising a din with their cheers and shouting, with a few even placing bets, but now, having just witnessed a demonstration of true skill with a weapon, they fell silent.

The umpire awarded the first strike to Marianna and called us to take our stances once again. Her speed astounded me. She easily parried every attempt I made at a strike. Then I abruptly surged forward, and at the same time, used my superior strength to bat her weapon aside. It was now one strike each.

So it continued. She clearly was more skilful than I, but my strength made it an even contest. We both gained another strike, after which we settled into a more defensive mode, each respecting the other’s prowess. It seemed it would end in a stalemate until, in a clinch, she whispered, “Be ready, my love, you will finish it now. It wouldn’t do for the captain to lose.”

I clearly saw her overstretch. The first mate might have known, but no one else would. One firm snap of my wrist, crossing our blades, then a clanging, sidelong swat, and her rapier went flying.

I didn’t make the strike. Instead, I saluted her. She inclined her head to me. I took her hand and raised it high as we faced the cheering crew.

I waited for them to quiet a bit, before raising my hand for silence.

“I am not far from being the youngest aboard the Siren, and I am a woman. Yet you’ve accepted me as your captain. You have learned to trust me, and to follow my decisions without question. In these things, you have honoured me. Now I ask a favour of you. In this I cannot command you. It is your choice to make.”

I had to again wait for the babble of conversation to die down.

“This lady wishes to come aboard, not as a passenger, but to be one of us, to fight alongside us. I believe she has just demonstrated her ability to do that. She would be my … she will be the captain’s woman.” I braced for another outburst, but they remained quiet, even stunned. Some seemed amused, but others were looking decidedly cross.

“She will not give orders. She asks for no special treatment – other than you treat her as a lady. I will allow an hour for your decision.” I began to turn away, but Marianna held my arm, facing the crew on her own.

“Many of you do not know me,” she said. “A few possibly remember me from the last time I was a guest aboard the Siren. Your Captain LaFarge, the bosun, and of course your present captain were my good friends. I expect to be given nothing. Indeed, I shall bring a dowry when my small estate is sold. That dowry will be shared equally among you all. Do not hold it against me that I am Spanish. I left there some years ago. I have no allegiance to Spain. In fact, I hated my father.”

She paused, giving them time to absorb her words. “One last thing: your ship is the Siren, and your black flag is adorned with a mermaid. Might it not bring good fortune to have two mermaids aboard?

“Captain,” she concluded, “will you walk with me?” And we turned our backs on the crew, quite ostentatiously holding hands.

Back in my cabin, Marianna asked, “If the crew decide in my favour, could you either wait here a few days or otherwise return shortly? I need time to dispose of my estate. It won’t be difficult. Two other owners have expressed interest in buying me out. My estate is not large, but is very well situated.”

I considered a moment. “We dare not have the ship waiting here. There’s a character named Hornigold. He was one of us, but now he’s turned traitor. He’s working with the authorities, tracking down and capturing pirates. He has several ships at his disposal. Sometimes, even a British frigate. If he caught us here, we could be in trouble. I rather think he might consider me to be a pirate regardless of the signed warrant I hold.”

The first mate knocked. “Would you care to come on deck, Captain…?” Then he floundered. “Er, what do I call you ma’am?”

“Why, that’s quite simple, sir. I shall be Maria or Mary, whichever the crew prefer. May I presume from your question that the vote went in my favour?”

“All bar one… er… Miss Mary..”

The ship would sail without us. I instructed the first mate, Jensen, to make a slow circuit around the islands, keeping well out of sight. He would return in three days if all was clear.

***

We climbed onto the bustling jetty of Road Town, where a smartly dressed black man greeted us. “I was beginning to worry, Marianna; you have been gone so long.” He spoke to her, but his eyes were warily looking me over. He saw the pair of pistols at my belt as well as the hanging cutlass. I must have been a strange sight to him. So young, yet clearly a well-armed pirate.

She saw his look. “This is Captain… Bren, Josh. She will be coming back with us. There is a lot for us to discuss after we get home.” She looked back at me. “Do you know, Bren, I don’t know your surname, how strange to know everything about you, but not your full name.”

“Dawlish, Brenda Dawlish. And Josh, there’s no need to look so alarmed. Marianna and I have known each other a very long time.”

The open carriage that Josh beckoned over seemed very grand to me. I had never ridden on one before. Another black man was driving the fine pair of horses.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long, there were important decisions to be made,” Marianna said. “Have you both eaten?”

The driver answered her. “Yes, Marianna, but we were getting a bit worr–”

She waved her hand. “Everything is fine, Desmond, but thank you for your concern.”

I had noticed how they addressed her by her Christian name and the friendly way she spoke to them. I asked her how it was slaves would be so forward.

She laughed as she told me she didn’t own slaves. All her servants and workers were freedmen. Josh was her overseer. She admitted it was somewhat unusual in the West Indies, but not so much on this island. Many of the plantations employed freedmen.

Josh turned around to speak, but then he saw how we held hands and sat so close to each other. He raised an eyebrow before turning away again.

Marianna sighed. “I may as well tell you now, Josh, you will soon see, anyway. The captain is my long-lost sweetheart, come back to me.”

“But Marianna, you are only nineteen now, that must mean… you would have been a child. And the captain is hardly much older than you. How can that be – lovers? Impossible!”

“Oh, but we were. Indeed, we are. So don’t be too shocked, please.”

Once more he turned and gave me a searching look. I smiled back. “It’s true, all of it.”

We went on in silence.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I had a picture in my mind of some sprawling Spanish hacienda. But the house I saw as we rounded the final corner was nothing like I imagined. It was comfortable-looking, and to my eyes, even luxurious, but certainly no mansion. It had a distinctive French air about it with a long, covered verandah running the length of the facade. The windows had brightly painted, hurricane-proof shutters that contrasted with the pale blue of the rest of the building. A sign hung above the front steps, adorned with a mermaid and the letters ‘M’ and ‘B’ on either side.

Marianna heard my gasp. “You see…?”

Josh now looked from one to the other of us. “Marianna and Bren. I wondered what they stood for, but I didn’t presume to ask. Now, all is clear.”

Strangely, I had never been inside a real house. I didn’t count the ramshackle hovels I had first lived in. Other than that, the Siren had been my home.

Upon crossing the threshold, I found myself in a cool, dark room. The walls were a foot thick, to shield the interior from the tropical heat, and for a time I could see nothing but the glare from the windows. As my eyes adjusted, however, I stood in awe of the riches before me. Such splendour! Ornately carved furniture of rich mahogany, and what looked to me to be a king’s ransom of art on the walls.

Marianna explained that the paintings had come with the house. She herself had not procured any of them – but for two. I knew instantly which two she meant.

A large oil painting depicted two ships exchanging broadsides. One of the ships flew a black flag with the vague outline of a mermaid. The artist had managed to capture the mixture of excitement and terror of a sea battle.

But what stunned me was the portrait of the young girl, lying on a cot, in what was clearly a ship’s cabin, and she was naked. It wasn’t exactly me, but it was near enough for me to know that it had been the intention. The deciding factor was the title, emblazoned on a plaque at the base of the frame – My Pirate.

“The artist got very cross with me when he painted that,” Marianna explained. “I had to try and describe what you looked like. He did sketch after sketch before I said it would do. She is pretty, I think, but she hardly does you justice.”

Marianna rang a small bell, and there appeared a young girl. She was perhaps fourteen years old, and as black as pitch.

“Ah, Daphne, this is my friend Bren. She will be staying with us for a few days, would you please tell the cook, and then prepare a bath for us.”

Daphne seemed quite put out at the sight of my guns and cutlass.

“Oh, don’t worry, Daphne,” Marianna said lightly. “She’s only a pirate.”

I thought the poor girl was going to faint on the spot, but she quickly recovered her poise. “Which room shall I prepare for Bren, Marianna?”

We couldn’t help ourselves. We burst out laughing before Marianna explained to the bewildered servant, “She will be in my room. This, Daphne, is my pirate.” And she gestured toward the painting.

The girl’s eyes were as large as saucers as she glanced from the painting to me. Hesitantly, she said. “That is you. Yes, I can see the likeness, except you are a little older now.” Then she scurried away.

***

It had been a long day. A great deal had happened. A bath would be welcome. Then I realised … a bath, and with sweet water. Such luxury!

And Marianna would give this all up for me? I couldn’t let her do it.

The bathroom was as large as my cabin aboard the Siren. And the tub! I had never seen one so large, nor one made of white porcelain – I had long been used to washing from an old tin pail. For a time I simply gazed at the deep water and the layer of white foam that floated upon it. Whatever could it be? I had not the slightest idea.

I was taken aback when Daphne began to undress Marianna. I had been looking forward to doing that myself. There did not appear to be anything playful or sensual about it. She was simply performing her duty. When she had finished, and Marianna was naked, the girl turned to me, at a loss, for the moment, over how to approach my mannish clothes. She gave a small strangled screech when she saw the scar across my ribs. I was sure I heard her tutting to herself when she saw the thick growth around my pussy.

“Call for me after you have bathed. I shall tidy that for you,” she said, as clinically as a doctor preparing to lance a boil. “Will there be anything else, Marianna?”

“You may bring us some more warm water in a bit.”

The girl curtsied, ever so slightly, then turned on her heel and left.

The water was soft and seductive as I settled into the mysterious, fragrant foam. Marianna sat opposite me, but I beckoned for her to come lie in my arms. Would I ever want to go back on a ship again?

She leaned her head back and looked up at me. “Are you happy, my love? Are you glad I found you?”

“Yes, my darling, Marianna. Far more than you could imagine.” Our lips came together.

Her breasts showed through the bubbles, and I cupped them in my hands. She sighed into my mouth as I gently massaged them. The increasing thrust of her nipples into my palms was a delight to me, and I felt, more than heard, the soft moan in her throat when I slipped a hand downward, through her downy hairs to the lips of her pussy. I fluttered my fingers, slowly teasing her open before I penetrated her warmth. Already, I could feel the swollen lump of her clit beneath. She clutched my legs as her hips rose to my touch.

I vaguely heard a gentle knock, but I paid it no mind, as I was preoccupied by Marianna’s moaning, which was growing louder and deeper. Then some sixth sense made me glance up. There was Daphne, holding her pail of water.

Her expression was one of awe and … jealousy? I closed my eyes again, pointedly ignoring the girl’s presence. She was the servant. I was the guest. If I wanted to kiss and fondle her mistress, that was my right, and she must be content to see to my comfort. Marianna’s mouth opened to my pressing tongue.

There was a splash of water – was it Daphne emptying her pail or my lover’s legs jerking? The warmth at my feet told me it had been Daphne. She was still there, though I was past caring. My mind was wholly focussed on the climax my love was now striving for.

My hand at her breast gripped her firmly as she rose, her hips rocked, and my fingers fucked her pussy. Soon my sweetheart was coming for me. I opened my eyes, to see my love’s expression, but what I saw was Daphne, her hand over her mouth, and tears rolling down her dusky cheeks. She saw me look, then she turned and ran back through the doorway. I clearly heard the sob as she closed the door.

Marianna seemed oblivious to what had just happened. “My God, that was so wonderful,” she said. “Earlier today, we had had our lust for each other, but this was you making love to me. And now… it is your turn.”

She urged me up until I was sitting on the side of the bath. I almost laughed at the sight of my foam-covered pussy. But the touch of her lips on my leg soon stoked the arousal I had already built up.

Her kisses travelled up my thighs until her face was buried in the foam and her tongue trailed along my pussy lips. I rested my hands on the side of the bath, leaning back against the wall as I eased my arse forwards, spreading my legs wide.

I wanted to shut my eyes, but at the same time, I wanted to watch her devour me. She blew hard, and the foam flew in all directions. Her fingers pushed at my hood, and she smiled as my clit appeared. She glanced up at me when her lips enclosed me… and she sucked.

Her finger sank between my lips, caressing the inside of my cunt. Slowly, she began to fuck me, even as she went on sucking and tickling me with her lips and tongue.

I closed my eyes, the better to absorb these astonishing feelings. So she made love to me, and on and on it went. My body began to tighten. My arms trembled from holding my weight as I tried to push myself even closer to her. She must have sensed my difficulty, for her hand went under my arse to give support. Whether she intended it or not, I have no idea, but a finger pressed against my arsehole.

My eyes flew open at the touch, and I saw that she was as shocked as I was. But her expression soon changed. It became mischievous. For a moment she stopped licking and fucking, she just gazed up at me. Then her finger pressed harder.

I was in turmoil. Only the drunken louts at the tavern had ever dared to probe my arsehole, and ever since those days, the very idea was enough to fill me with disgust. But when Marianna suddenly tickled around the rim, I realised how good it felt. I closed my eyes again and lay my head back. Now, her finger pressed with urgent intent, and once more she began to fuck my pussy and suck my clit.

My arse resisted the intrusion at first, but the juices seeping from my cunt and coating her fingers proved to be my downfall. Of a sudden, I felt myself open, and Marianna’s finger slid deep into my nether hole.

My climax came rushing over me. Marianna knew it and fucked me faster … front and rear. It was when she nibbled at my clit that my orgasm exploded. Somehow, she held me up as wave after wave shook me.

Finally, I mumbled, “Enough… no more, please.”

She helped me as I slid back down into her arms.

No words were spoken, no kisses exchanged. We merely held each other, slowly rocking on our knees.

When we finally separated, she said, “God!” at the same time I exclaimed, “Fuck!”

“Bren, you didn’t mind where I touched you?”

“That was more than a touch, lover. You fucked my arse. And no, I would have to say I didn’t mind.”

The water had cooled, Marianna pulled the plug, and we somewhat unsteadily climbed from the bath.

If I hadn’t known what love looked like, I did now. It showed in her expression as she towelled my body dry.

I had forgotten about Daphne until Marianna rang the bell. The girl returned, bearing a razor and scissors, and she had evidently regained her composure. Without a word, she waved me to a chair, and when I was settled, she pushed my legs apart and knelt between them.

It crossed my mind that she intended to exact some sort of bloody revenge with those sharp implements, but she simply went to work, quietly and expertly. I couldn’t help but marvel at the way she transformed my wild bush into something neat and attractive. She glanced up with an apologetic expression when she got to the final stages, pushing my legs further apart and trimming lower. She covered my pussy with her fingers to protect them from the scissors.

Once, I saw her hesitate before she pressed the lips to one side. I suspected she was taking longer than was necessary. I tried to suppress the unwanted tingle that was growing inside me. Then she leaned close to blow some hairs away. Her full lips lightly brushed the fold above my clit. I gave a small involuntary jump. Marianna laughed and clapped her hands. “I do believe that Daphne is setting you off again,” she said. “How wonderful!”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scowl, but then I saw the girl’s tears again. She had frozen where she knelt, just gazing at my pussy.

I pointed at her cheeks for Marianna to see. Quickly, she knelt and put an arm around the black girl’s shoulder. “Daphne, my child, whatever is wrong?” The girl shook her head in answer.

“You didn’t see her, Marianna. She came in here earlier when we were … busy. And she cried while she watched us. I thought it was because she’s in love with you, but it wasn’t that. She wants my pussy now. She’s desperate for a woman’s body, any woman’s body.”

“I never dreamed!” Marianna said. “Sometimes she lingers when she trims me there, but she’s never said, or done anything … I swear.” She turned back to Daphne. “Is this true, little one?”

I saw the merest nod of the girl’s head.

Marianna looked at me. “What do we do? I’m not sure. I mean – how young she is!”

“She’s older than you and I were,” I said. I glanced down at Daphne’s fingers, which were still quite close to my pussy. Then I gave Marianna an enquiring look. For a moment she frowned, as if lost in thought, but then she leaned down and pressed Daphne’s hand into my cunt. All the time though, she kept her eyes on mine, clearly giving me the chance to object.

The little tingle the girl had caused suddenly intensified, even though her hand had not moved. Marianna, noting my expression, pressed the girl’s fingers harder, and this time, she began to move them up and down.

Without quite meaning to, I edged my arse forwards and slouched back in the chair. The movement opened my pussy slightly, and the girl’s finger slid between my lips. Marianna let go of her hand and pushed my hood up. “There Daphne, see that little nub? Touch that – gently, gently.”

The girl was in a daze, but one slender black finger went to my clit. She jerked it back when I twitched, but, taking her hand again, Marianna guided it back to the spot. She massaged me with two of the girl’s fingers, then, reaching for her other hand, pushed two more fingers into my pussy. “Reach inside, Daphne. Feel her, then fuck her.”

Daphne appeared shocked by her mistress’s language, yet I heard her whisper, “Fuck her. Yes, I want to fuck her.”

Marianna unfastened Daphne’s skirt and pulled it to the floor, along with her undergarments. The girl gave no sign she was aware of what was happening until her mistress knelt behind her and reached beneath her arse. Then her eyes opened wide in surprise and delight.

I reached out for the girl’s bodice, but managed to unfasten the buttons only enough to slip a hand inside. She inched closer to me, so I could properly feel the hard nipple between my finger and thumb. I gave it a pull, then a pinch, and she hissed through her teeth. She rewarded me by fucking me faster.

She looked up at me. “I fuck you, ma’am. Do you like it? It is the first time I fuck someone.”

She clearly liked using that word. “Yes, my sweet. You’re fucking me very well.”

“And Marianna is fucking me. I only ever dreamed .. ooh, my God.”

The whole scene was so utterly fantastical – a young black girl fucking my cunt for all she was worth as Marianna did the same to her.

Daphne abruptly slowed, her eyes rolled up, and she began to tremble. Marianna’s more experienced touch had brought her to the edge of her climax. I saw Marianna’s other hand caressing her arse, sliding between her cheeks. The girl gave one huge jerk, and I knew where Marianna had gone. My love was becoming enamoured of arseholes.

Daphne let out a wail, and her body began to spasm. She tensed once before she fell to the floor, where she lay gasping.

We both watched her slowly recover. She raised herself on one elbow, somewhat in a daze. “Miss, I’m so sorry, I forgot you,” she said.

I was about to say it didn’t matter, but Marianna interjected. “Come Daphne, let me show you something.”

She waved Daphne closer. “Give her a kiss, child.” Daphne looked shocked, as though the thought of kissing a white woman would place us on equal terms. But I was a pirate, as well as an idolator of women. Taboos were no barrier to me. I grabbed hold of her and pulled her to my face. She clutched at my shoulders as I forced her lips open and drove my tongue into her mouth.

Taking her hand, I moved it to my breast, massaging myself with it. When I sensed she understood my intent, I let go, and she continued on her own.

Then Marianna pulled her away from the kiss. Daphne complained, but ceased when her mistress guided her face to my breast. “Suck it,” she said. “Tease the nipple, press it between your teeth and bite – only not too hard.”

The girl caught on fast. Really, it was quite wonderful to see. Marianna, however, did not care to waste time. After barely a minute, she again pulled the girl’s head away.

”Now kiss down her tummy… yes, like that. Lower. Run your tongue through her hair. Go on, find that little nub I showed you. That’s her clit. Lick it. Lick it hard.”

The girl didn’t hesitate. At once, she began to lap at me furiously. But Marianna still had a further surprise in store. She took my legs and hoisted them over Daphne’s shoulders. “Now, push your tongue into her cunt. Eat it up.”

Daphne was driving me quite mad. The sensations were dragging me quickly to my peak, though Marianna was not yet through with her lesson.

“Now lick further down between her legs,” she commanded. This time Daphne did hesitate, but Marianna roughly shoved her head down. “Lick her arse,” she commanded. “It’s nice and clean from our bath. That’s better. Now tickle around with your tongue, see how it sort of winks at you – isn’t it pretty? Now a finger, press her with a finger… no, the tip. Press, push… there, see it sliding in. Now you can go back to sucking her clit while you fuck her arse.”

Marianna stood and admired her handiwork, lazily stroking her pussy as she watched. “So beautiful, I’m watching my lover get fucked. God knows why I’m not jealous. Are you ready to come, lover? I think perhaps you are. It’s time, Daphne. Now fuck her hard, I shall give her a kiss.”

Her lips had hardly touched mine when it hit me. I don’t remember ever shaking so hard before. I could barely hear Marianna’s voice through the rattling waves of pleasure. “Come for your Marianna and Daphne… come, love.”

When my senses had finally recovered, I saw Daphne still there between my legs, her glistening, come-covered black face looking up at me with awe.

“May I put my legs down now, please? They’re starting to ache.”

It was at that moment I heard a bell ringing.

“Oh dear, dinner will be served in a quarter of an hour,” Marianna said. “Quickly girls, we must wash and dress.”

I took Daphne’s hand as she was about to leave. “Are you alright now?” I asked. “Are you happy?”

Her beaming smile was all the answer I needed, but she said. “You cannot know. I have lived in hell at times. When I would trim Marianna’s … pussy .. I had to fight myself not to touch her. She only ever talked about you. There was so much love for you. I could not dare to intrude. But today — fuck, fuck, fuck!” Then she was gone.

“I do believe you made her happy,” Marianna said.

“And you didn’t mind?” I asked.

“Just as long as it doesn’t become a habit.”

A thought struck me. “Perhaps we should tell Daphne you will be leaving, before it’s too late. Let’s make sure she understands it’s about desire, not her falling in love.”

***

Daphne’s poise at the dinner table was remarkable. She never once batted an eyelid. It was as if nothing had occurred, though there was the hint of a smile when I whispered. “Will we see you in the bedroom, perhaps about eight-thirty?”

“Whatever the captain wishes.”

I stroked her leg beneath the table. She almost spilt the wine as my fingers slid up to her pussy.

“Would the captain behave?” she said quietly. “I am still working.” But although she had stopped pouring the wine, she remained where she stood as my fingers continued to probe between her lips.

Marianna raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what had come over the girl. She glanced lower and must have observed Daphne’s jiggling hips. “Bren! What are you doing to the poor girl when she’s trying to work?” The grin on her face belied the tone of her voice.

Daphne lowered the decanter to the table and gripped the edge with both hands. She looked over at Marianna and said, “She fuck my pussy, Miss Marianna. Your captain is a very wicked woman. But I do like her.”

After only a few more thrusts, she reached down and stayed my hand, “I think it’s better you save it for later. If you do that much more, I will not be able to stop you and then your dinner will get cold.”

Reluctantly, I withdrew my hand and Daphne passed me the napkin with which to wipe my shiny fingers. At the door she paused. “Enjoy your dinner,” she said and as she turned away, she raised the back of her skirt and stuck her arse out. I heard her happy laugh as the door closed.

“Do you think we might eat our dinner now if you’ve quite finished playing games?” Marianna said.

The dinner was for me something quite special, perhaps the best meal I had ever eaten, and the wine was superb. But above all, my contentment was due to having my Marianna back. There couldn’t, at this moment, be a happier pirate in the world.

Another great change for me was my feminine attire. In the rush to prepare for dinner, I had thrown on, without a thought, a dress Marianna laid out for me. The sight in the mirror was startling. It was the first time I had ever worn a woman’s clothing, never mind something so feminine. Marianna peered over my shoulder. “So beautiful,” she said. “Do we not make a fine-looking pair? That dress was made too large for me. I thought it might fit you. A bit loose in the bust and the hips, perhaps, but you look perfectly stunning.”

“Still, it feels … well, silly.”

It was just as well that the hem swept the floor. None of Marianna’s shoes would fit me. I still wore my boots … complete with the dagger that was concealed there.

We talked of many things – of the places I had visited aboard the Siren, of ships we had taken and the fortune in gold I had amassed, and of course, of my search for her. I told her how puzzling it was that I had not heard she was in the Virgin Islands, even though I had anchored here on one previous occasion.

“My father died before my mother, but she had anticipated what was to come. She made arrangements with the help of a friend. When she passed away I was not faced with any difficulties in being awarded my inheritance. I moved to this island, having changed my name to Freitas – a Portuguese name. It was a suitable cover for my looks and my accent. Virtually no one in the Indies speaks Portuguese. Freitas means broken, which is how I felt at the time. It never occurred to me that you would have no way of knowing.”

A thought had been nagging at my mind. The question had to be raised. “Marianna, I have to ask. How can you possibly want to leave your beautiful home? Swap your comfortable life for that of a pirate? A hard and dangerous life. Not once have you asked if I would be willing to settle here instead.”

For the briefest moment, her eyes flashed fire, but then she smiled. “Thank you, my love. You are right to ask. But the answer is quite simple. I believe it would be too great a risk for you to settle here. Your life would always be in danger. Besides, it would be quite scandalous and would likely cause an uproar.” She reached for my hands. “My only dream has been for you to come and whisk me away. I don’t care for luxuries. They are but trappings to be enjoyed, not a necessity. What is necessary is that I spend my life with you! I could sail to the ends of the earth, fight the Spanish or the French… or anyone else, just so long as we do it side by side.”

I had feared that she might not have fully considered the implications of what we intended. But now, with some relief, I knew she had.

On to Chapter Six!

by Rachael Yukey

Wakefulness came slowly, and I let it take its sweet time. Gradually I became aware that I was naked under the covers, and my comforter had somehow disappeared. I opened my eyes, allowing them a few seconds grace to come into focus on Terry’s bedroom. Oh yeah… I dropped by here and got fucked last night, didn’t I?

Plucking my phone off the bedside table, I checked the time. Nine-thirty already. Setting the phone aside, I noticed that Terry had laid a change of clothes on the nightstand. We’re not together anymore, so why do I still keep a toothbrush and extra clothing at his house?

Terry’s house sports a massive living room near the entrance, an equally large parlor at the opposite end of the ground floor, and a cozy little den upstairs. His original plan was that the kids would use the parlor and the living room would be for adults, but in practice it turned out that everyone just gravitated towards the living room. That’s where I found them, and it was the usual barely-controlled bedlam. Terry has four girls, and damned if I know what the story is with their mother. Terry will only speak of his ex-wife in the vaguest of terms, and if visitation ever takes place, I’ve never heard about it. I took it all in at a glance; in my line of work, you get good at that.

Dawn, the eight-year-old, had her best friend Allison over, but she’s just part of the scenery. Allison lives on the next block, also the daughter of a single father. That particular gentleman can never hold a job for more than a month or two, so there’s never any stability and his work hours are often pretty weird. Allison’s older brother is violent and mean-tempered, to the point where at age twelve he’s already been institutionalized a couple of times, and she can’t be left alone with him. So she more or less lives at Terry’s house during the day.

The two of them were in the middle of creating an elaborate Lego complex that was already eating half of the substantial living room. Six-year-old Maya was trying to help as best she could. Dawn and Allison were being as gracious as could be expected, but not to the point of letting her mess up their construction plans.

Ten-year-old Naomi was seated on the big wraparound couch with a script in hand, quietly mouthing lines, and I dimly recalled that she was in her elementary school’s spring theater production, which was opening in just a few days. Naomi’s a talkative, vivacious, social creature, and gets involved in as many activities as her father will allow. She’s also the changeling of the family, big-boned and a bit short for her age, whereas her sisters are slender and tall.

“The other girls look like me, God help the poor creatures,” Terry once said. “Naomi got all of her mom’s Norwegian genes.” It’s about as close as Terry ever gets to discussing his ex.

At the table in the adjacent dining nook sat a reflection of me, at least as I perceive myself at age twelve. Somber, quiet, reflective Halee. She had her laptop open and her headphones on, and I couldn’t make out what she was doing. Halee had recently dyed her hair jet-black and started favoring dark-colored clothing, her t-shirts adorned with the logos of punk bands nobody had ever heard of.

All four of Terry’s daughters were going to be beautiful. They already were, in a girlish sort of way, and in Halee and Naomi’s cases, it was a way that I found entirely too interesting. Halee was just starting to get breasts, and Naomi’s Scandinavian bone structure afforded her a delightfully shaped backside several years before most girls her age would start developing one.

Looking for all the world like the lord of the manor sitting aloof above it all, Terry reclined in his easy chair, thumbing through a magazine. Classical music from the stereo provided a backdrop for the scene. Terry’s audio system makes me drool a little; he’s the only person I know with a better system than mine. The damn speakers cost ten grand by themselves. But I can’t abide his taste in music.

I came down via the small staircase next to the dining nook, knowing that’s where I’d find Terry and his girls. Terry heard my footsteps on the stairs, looked up, and gave me that grin of his that’s been known to make men check up on what their wives are doing. I gave a little wave and retreated into the nearest bathroom.

As the hot shower cascaded over my body, I realized that I was heating up in more ways than one. Whirling through my mind was the image of Halee sitting at the table, intent on her laptop screen. The black dye left her hair color almost identical to mine, and I thought it suited her skin tone. And then there was the way her just blossoming tits pressed at the front of her punk band tee —

Oh, dear. My occasional lover was sitting right out in the living room, and there I stood with my body aching for his preteen daughter. Detaching the shower head with trembling hands, I aimed it at my eager pussy, using the other hand to spread my lips wide. As the torrent battered my clit, I almost doubled over in ecstasy. Holy fuck; I was even more turned on than I thought.

Suddenly, the reality of what I was doing struck me like a ton of bricks. Turning off the water with a savage twist of my hand, I grabbed the towel and got the fuck out of there, unsatisfied.

My body was still raging as I stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed with my hair in a towel. It occurred to me to drag Terry upstairs and rape him, but I didn’t think I could look him in the face right then. Suffer in silence, you disgusting pervert. I slunk down the hallway, hating myself.

As the hall opened out, the dining nook to my right and the living room ahead, I picked up the smell of frying pork. Turning my head to the left, I could see Halee through the imposing red-brick archway of the kitchen entrance, cracking eggs into a pan. At the opposite end of the kitchen an identical opening led to the seldom-used dining hall, sporting a table of suitable size to host a state dinner.

Halee glanced in my direction. “The rest of us ate,” she said without preamble, “so I’m making yours now. Better than reheated stuff, I guess.”

A young lady of contrasts, Halee is both the most rebellious and the most domesticated of Terry’s daughters. She’ll argue like hell over curfews and other restrictions, but she keeps her spaces meticulously clean and is among the best cooks I’ve ever encountered. She slammed a lid down on the pan, throwing a glance at the microwave clock.

“Thanks, Halee,” I said, offering her a small smile.

She tossed back a humorless grin. “Don’t mention it.” She held my gaze for a moment, her hazel eyes unwavering. I froze, wondering if I’d somehow given myself away. Did she know where my evil, twisted imagination had led me? All the same, being the subject of that intense scrutiny was unbelievably hot. If I didn’t get the hell away from this kitchen, my clean, dry panties were going to be neither in a minute or two.

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards, and she turned back to her cooking while I beat feet for the living room. The three younger girls had disappeared, most likely to Dawn’s bedroom. I plopped down on the sofa with an explosive sigh.

Terry looked up at me, his eyebrows raised. “Something eating you?”

Your daughter Halee would be an ideal candidate for the job, I thought, and had to fight back a burst of wild laughter.

“Just trying to wake up,” I tossed off, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Chelsey Milne is out of ICU,” he informed me.

My eyebrows shot up. “That’s great, but how the hell do you know?”

“Oh, I have a source down at Children’s. I just heard a few minutes ago.”

I rolled my eyes. With Terry, “source at Children’s” no doubt meant, “a nurse he’s had sex with.” But honestly, I didn’t care too much. I was overcome with a sense of profound relief.

“That’s great news, Dad!” piped up Naomi, from her position on the opposite end of the couch from me. The little minx was wearing a pair of leggings that looked as if they’d been spray-painted on. Her legs, revealing the ten-year-old’s Scandinavian ancestry, might not have been shapely in the classic sense, but they had a beauty all of their own, and I had to force myself not to stare. It occurred to me that Naomi and Chelsey were probably within a few months of the same age.

“It’s news you keep to yourself for the moment, I’m afraid,” Terry warned her. “Lest we compromise my source. I wouldn’t have said anything at all if the younger girls were still in the room. Don’t worry; it’ll be all over town within an hour or two.”

Naomi beamed, instantly recognizing that her father was placing his trust in her. When she smiled, that round, expressive face lit up in ways that pushed all my buttons at once.

“That being said,” Terry went on, turning back to face me, “I have to run the Midgets Three over to Stacy Wood’s house; she’s taking them to the pool in Melville along with her girls. I’m just going to drop them off, so I won’t be long. Now, I know– there’s an indefinable sense of loss associated with my departure. But do try to be strong.”

“I think I’ll manage,” I informed him, with a roll of my eyes.

He turned his attention to Naomi. “I know it’s mostly kids younger than you,” he told her, “but Stacy did say you’re welcome if you want to come. Halee too, but I know better than to ask.”

Naomi giggled a little at this. “You know what, Dad? I think I will after all.”

She peeled herself off the couch and disappeared down the hall towards the bathroom. I studiously avoided watching her go. My level of arousal hadn’t gone down even a little bit from the moment I’d aimed the shower head at my lady bits, and I could feel my panties growing damp.

Terry entered the hallway at the opposite end of the room and rapped on the first door he came to. “Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum,” he announced. “Hie thy backsides to the horseless carriage parked at the curb, or resign thyselves to being main courses at a convention of giants.”

The door flew open and three small bodies launched from the room like a flock of oversized featherless birds. Terry watched them barrel through the living room and down the hallway towards the foyer with overt amusement.

“I won’t be long,” he said, caressing my cheek with a finger as he strode past the couch. Then he was gone.

It was only a moment later that Halee came in, carrying a plate laden with sausage patties, fried eggs, and toast, a cup of coffee in the other hand. To be honest, I’d forgotten I had breakfast coming. She set the whole works on the coffee table in front of me, her budding breasts clearly outlined through the snug t-shirt she wore. Those pert nipples were only inches from my face.

She straightened, giving me a good look at the fishnet leggings disappearing under a short black skirt. I wouldn’t have imagined that such an ensemble would  work on a girl so young, but it did.

“Thanks,” I managed to get out.

Halee crossed the room, flouncing into her dad’s recliner. I took a bite of egg. I wasn’t sure what the combination of seasonings was, but it was delicious, and I realized that I really was hungry. I attacked the contents of the plate with gusto, glad to have something to put my mind to other than this horrible, forbidden lust.

“How’ve you been, Halee?” I inquired between bites.

The girl gave me an exaggerated shrug. “Same as always, I guess. What’s the story with you and my dad?”

I was taken a little aback by her directness, and it took me a moment to formulate a response.

“Nothing heavy this time,” I said. “Just hanging out, really.”

Her face went a little bit hard. “Don’t do that,” she said. “I know what goes on in there. Even if I was an idiot… and I’m not… Dad’s bedroom is right next to mine, and you’re both noisy.”

I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn’t. Knowing that this junior hottie had been listening kicked my already considerable arousal up about five notches.

After a moment’s contemplation of possible responses, I elected to go for disaffected nonchalance.

“Whatever,” I said with a shrug. “But that’s all there is to it. We’re not getting back together or anything like that.”

Halee said nothing, fixing me with a steady, unwavering gaze for so long, I could feel myself starting to squirm. I returned my attention to my half-eaten breakfast.

Finally she spoke. “Can I ask you something personal?”

I snorted laughter around my last bite of sausage. “I think we’re already way past personal.”

“I know what goes on between you and Dad,” Halee said. She spoke slowly, as if choosing her words with great care. “But there are rumors about you. Stuff about you and other girls.”

She had my full attention now. I took a sip of coffee, struggling to appear calm while feeling anything but. Is this the point at which I started to seriously contemplate seduction? I think it was. Not consciously, but I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge that my next words were carefully calculated to pique Halee’s interest.

“I’m bisexual,” I told her. “It’s not something I’m ashamed of, or trying to hide.” I met her eyes, held them. “Is that something you have questions about?”

The moment seemed to last forever. We just sat there, gazing across the living room into each other’s eyes. There was communication in that gaze, or at least I perceived there to be. It’s a good thing I was wearing nice thick denim jeans, because my panties were absolutely sodden.

Halee had just parted her lips to reply when we heard the front door open. Dammit. At that moment I was well past the point of no return. My breathing was ragged, and nobody was even touching me. I could think of only one thing to do.

I rose from the couch, leaving my empty plate and half-full coffee cup behind. I met Terry in the hallway, tugging him towards the stairs by his shirt sleeve.

“Whoa, what are you… ah, I see,” he said jovially, falling in behind me. “I think this turn of events bodes well for me. My lady, I shall follow, lo unto the pits of hell and back again, if I’ve correctly understood what it is you have in mind.” By the time he got all of this out, we had reached the top of the stairs.

“Shut up,” I said hoarsely, whirling around and shoving him against the wall. I threw my body against his, pushing my tongue into his mouth. Sixty seconds later we were in the bedroom, and thirty seconds after that my pants were on the floor, his face buried in my pussy.

“Goodness,” he said, coming up for air, “the dew is especially heavy this morning.” I grabbed his head with both hands and shoved him back in place. It’s a good thing my hands were covering his ears, because just then I heard a soft click as the door to the next bedroom was carefully closed. Halee was in her room.

I admit it – while Terry ate me, I wasn’t thinking of him at all. Was Halee getting excited at the sound of my moans? Was she touching herself? I enjoyed those images for a moment, then began to fantasize that it was her head down there in place of her father’s, her tongue driving me to, then over, the brink. When he fucked me, I closed my eyes and imagined Halee’s fingers deep inside of me instead of his dick.

For the first time, I gave these fantasies full reign instead of trying to push them away. I can’t remember the last time I came so hard. After it was over I rolled off the bed, got my pants back on, and mumbled some feeble excuse to Terry. Retreating to my apartment, I locked the door, turned up the music as loud as I dared, and poured myself a drink. A big one.

***

There’s a saying in EMS that there are two kinds of calls: holy shit and bullshit. I think there’s even a t-shirt to that effect. Of the two, bullshit far outweighs the holy shit, especially out here in the middle of nowhere. I have medic friends in metro areas who are dealing with gunshot wounds and overdoses on a daily basis, whereas most of my patients are old people with, well, old people problems. A depressing percentage of these issues– most of them, really– could just as well have waited till morning and been taken to the clinic by car, instead of going to the emergency department by ambulance.

The bottom line is, I can go weeks without treating a patient in serious trouble, and a really nasty trauma code is something I literally might see once a year or so. I’ve been in EMS since I was eighteen, and have never seen a body as badly damaged as that of the Bixley kid. It might turn out to be the worst of my career.

The whole thing went down early on a Thursday, five days after my Saturday morning retreat from Terry’s house. In the interim, I’d seen Terry once or twice, just around town, and we chatted pleasantly, with no mention made of how I’d pulled a runner on him. That’s the cool thing about Terry: he knows I’m damaged goods, and takes my fucked-up quirky behavior in stride. If only he knew the full extent of it…

News kept filtering in about the Milne girl. She was still down at Children’s in Minneapolis, where she’d been transferred after stabilization at the smaller hospital I’d taken her to. But her condition was improving steadily, and she’d be coming home the following week. There’d be a long run of physical therapy ahead, but Chelsey was going to be okay.

It was six AM when the call came down, and I was commuting to my job at Thormleton Ambulance in Johnstown. The accident took place in the Bronning volunteer ambulance service area, so therefore not my problem since I wasn’t on call for Bronning. But I’d just pulled out of town, I was less than three miles from the scene, and there was no way I could reasonably leave a head-on collision between a car and a dump truck at highway speeds to the volunteer EMTs.

I diverted to the scene, and joined the crew of the A rig in transporting Jason Bixley, the sixteen-year-old boy who’d been driving the car, to the hospital. Terry and another EMT came out a few minutes behind us with the B rig and transported the dump truck driver, who’d sustained only minor injuries.

I’ll spare you any further suspense: Jason Bixley died. We were doing CPR within seconds of getting him into the ambulance, and worked him for the entire thirty-mile ride to the hospital. Truth is, we never had a chance. I’m pretty sure he bled out in the car. He had enormous, gaping holes in his body, and at the end of the trip there was almost no blood pooled on the cot. To make matters even less pleasant, he was pretty badly burned; the car had caught fire.

The hospital where we deposited his lifeless body is only a few blocks from my workplace, so I just had the crew drop me off there. I phoned my dad, asking him to get my car off the highway where I’d left it back at the scene, and pick me up after work.

Funny thing with really bad ambulance calls: afterwards, I always end up in somebody’s bed. Some coincidence, huh? The setup this time was oddly similar to Chelsey Milne’s call the previous Friday: I was lying on my couch, listening to music and drinking, idly thinking that I should get a house so I could  crank my insanely expensive audio system up to the levels it deserved. An hour later, I was snuggling up with Terry Wilder in a post-orgasmic haze, slowly drifting to sleep.

Same damn dream. I’m vaguely aware that this is PTSD or something like it, and I should really go see a shrink or something. And once again, I jerked awake, slowly becoming aware of Terry regarding me calmly from the opposite side of the bed.

“You okay?” he inquired.

“Of course I’m okay,” I snapped, a little more harshly than intended.

Terry regarded me sidelong, then shrugged it off. “Shit’s been crazy here today,” he said. “Even worse than after the Milne accident last week.”

“I heard,” I said, doing my best to avoid sounding pissy. “Dad picked me up from work, and I had to listen to him talk about it for the entire forty-minute drive home.”

“Did he mention all the rumors that are flying around like fucking mosquitoes in July?”

I pulled the blanket up to my chin. “Not really. He mostly just went on about half the stores closing, and the kids not having to do anything at school. At length. You know how he is.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t think I’ve exchanged three words with your dad in four years, except when I’ve bought lumber from his yard. Besides, didn’t a wise man once say that no man can truly befriend the one who’s banging his daughter? I think it was in the Bible or something.”

“You’re impossible.”

Terry’s expression was one of wry amusement. “Just improbable. Never mind. The question of the day is why the Bixley kid was out on that highway two hours before the school day started, and why he was heading towards home instead of school.”

“That’s two questions, dummy.”

Terry chuckled and laced his hands behind his head. “Maybe, but don’t try telling me he was making a pre-dawn run to pick up milk. Nothing in this town opens that early, and you know it. ”

Of course it had occurred to me. Jason Bixley had lived on a farm six miles from town on County Highway 70, and that’s the direction he’d been headed when he met his fate.

“Yeah,” I said, “I thought of it. So what?”

“Well, to add seasoning to an already caustic brew, the rumor mill would have us believe his parents had no idea he was out of the house.”

I rolled on my side to face him. “So he snuck out. Kids do it all the time. It’s just shitty that his folks had to find out about it like this.”

“That’s what I figured, too. He probably slipped out to meet up with a very nice girl– you know, for tea and crumpets or something. He then lost track of time, and was hauling ass to get back home before his mom and dad found out he was gone. But you know how it is; people talk. The kid was out when he shouldn’t have been, coming from nobody knows where, and he swerved into the wrong lane so sharply it left marks on the pavement. Right into the path of a friggin’ dump truck, I might add.”

I rubbed my eyes. “He was probably playing with his phone or something.”

“That’s what I think, too.” We lay in silence for awhile.

“I’ll drop it if you want,” Terry said, “but…” He hesitated.

“It’s all right.”

“Was it as bad as the firefighters made it out to be?”

“We never had a chance,” I said flatly. I wriggled in close, pressing my body tightly against his. “If I’d withheld resuscitation and just called the doctor on the spot, I doubt anyone would have questioned me on it. It’s what I would have done, if it hadn’t been a kid. He bled out in his car. I’ve been in EMS for seven years now, Terry… I’ve never seen a body that wrecked. The only good news is that he was probably dead before the fire got to him.”

Terry slipped an arm under my head and around my shoulders. “You may need to make sure Jessie Kramer understands that,” he said. At nineteen Jessie is the youngest and least experienced EMT on the Bronning squad, and she’d been in the back of the ambulance with me that morning.

“She’s a train wreck,” Terry was saying. “I was at the station when the A rig got back to town, and she couldn’t stop crying. I took over the rest of her on-call time for the day, and I’m covering her twenty-four tomorrow, too. I hope we don’t lose her over this; it’s really fucking her up.”

I sighed. “I’ll talk to her,” I said. Not that I have a single fucking clue what I’m going to say. I turned over on my side and draped an arm across him. He pulled me close.

“How was the dump truck driver?” I asked.

“I think he was all right,” he said. “Naturally I have no idea what they found in CT, but he was completely oriented for the whole ride in, and his vitals were good. He felt really bad about the accident, no matter how many times I assured him it wasn’t his fault.”

I nodded, feeling glum. That driver was minding his own business, staying in his lane, and would probably suffer from post-traumatic guilt for the rest of his life because a teenager crossed the center line and ended up dead. Then something else occurred to me.

“So if you’re covering for Jessie tomorrow, we’re on call together, then,” I pointed out.

“True story,” he said. “You got plans for the weekend?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna hang out?”

My hand slipped between his legs. I stroked what I found there, thrilling at the sensation of it hardening beneath my fingers. For a fleeting moment, underage pussy was the furthest thing from my mind.

“Sure, why not?” I rolled on top of him.

***

What followed was one of those rare transcendental sexual experiences that writers wax poetical about. Our bodies and minds melded, the rest of the world fading into a dim, unimportant backdrop. We came together, hanging on to each other for dear life. It was the last time Terry and I ever made love, but it wasn’t such a bad way to go out.

On to Chapter Three!

A brief recap: Single mother and lesbian Amanda receives wonderful news: her eleven-year-old daughter Katie (who has just come out as gay herself) is being considered as a fairy for Latchmore House, a magical kingdom of sorts for young girls. When meeting with Latchmore’s director Cindy, Amanda is thrilled to learn that the fairies are all young lesbians. To prove the point, Cindy brings in an enchanting young thing named Rayne, who engages in hot sapphic sex with Amanda. Afterward, Rayne seeks out Katie, and they have a lovely time together.

Meanwhile, Katie is getting her own stimulating introduction to Latchmore from a couple of the fairies. Rayne finds her, and the two of them spend some delightful time together before returning to Cindy’s office, where Katie’s mother Amanda is also waiting. Things get interesting very fast… but the best is yet to come. Read on, readers.

by C. Cat

Amanda stood naked before her daughter Katie, who sat in Miss Cindy’s lap, waiting for Mummy to make love to her.

Her heart nearly stopped as Rayne slowly lifted Katie’s skirt, leaving her daughter totally exposed. Her tight little mound was like a budding flower glistening with dew — she couldn’t remember ever seeing anything so beautiful.

She longed to kiss it, to show Katie how wonderful a woman’s mouth could feel… but until Miss Cindy gave permission, all she could do was watch.

Katie’s skirt now fully raised, her new friend Rayne moved to stand next to Miss Cindy, licking her lips as she waited for the incestuous sex show to begin.

“A girl’s first time with her mother is very special,” Miss Cindy told Katie, caressing her thigh. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Uh-huh,” Katie said, hardly able to sit still.

“Then, my sweet,” Miss Cindy said, lightly grazing Katie’s slit with the tip of a finger, “you need to tell her what you want. Think of your mummy like one of your Barbie dolls — you get to decide what she does.”

Katie thought about it for a moment. She very much wanted to experience that special kiss between her legs… and having Mum lick her kitty seemed like the best idea ever.

At the same time, she hesitated to actually order Mum to do something like that. Though she was only eleven, Katie knew mothers and daughters weren’t supposed to be lovers.

But I want her to! she told herself. I SO want her to!

Miss Cindy understood. “You can start slowly, if you like,” she said. “Have her do something else for you first. Something nice.”

That notion appealed to Katie. “Okay,” she said, giggling as an interesting notion occurred to her. “Kiss my feet, Mummy.”

“As you wish, Miss Katie,” Amanda said with her eyes lowered, trying to conceal the hint of a smile on her lips. Kneeling before her child, she took Katie’s feet in her hands, briefly caressing them before she began to nuzzle the right foot all over, pausing to suck her daughter’s toes before switching to the right.

Katie shivered, astonished by how good it felt. She’d intended to make her mother do something cute and silly, just to lighten the mood, but having her feet kissed was far nicer than she’d expected.

As her daughter squirmed and cooed with delight, Amanda guided Katie’s feet downward, pressing them against her bare body.

The eleven-year-old’s mouth hung slack. Oh, it was wonderful, the softness of Mum’s lovely big titties as they caressed her feet. Then they went even lower, gliding across her mother’s belly, then further down.

Just as Katie’s toes were about to make contact with her pubes, Amanda paused, letting her child know without words that if she wanted to go beyond that, it was up to her.

Rayne shifted her position to get a better view, and Katie could tell from Miss Cindy’s breathing that the Latchmore director was excited, too. Everyone was waiting for her to make the next move.

Steadying herself, Katie slid her foot down a little bit lower… until her big toe found the warmth and wetness of her mum’s slit. Amanda let out a little gasp at the intimate contact. She brought her hips forward with a slight rocking motion.

Katie quickly figured out how to play this new game. She controlled how hard her mother could press. If she held her foot there, her mother would let out little moans of pleasure as she rocked. If she drew it away, even a little bit, Mum made cute pouting noises.

Wow, this is fun! Katie decided. Wonder how long we can keep doing it?

As Katie continued to tease her mum’s cunt, Rayne bent down to give her a kiss. Closing her eyes, Katie accepted the girl’s tongue, then met it with hers.

Amanda watched the girls as their kiss intensified. She felt a sudden urge to see her daughter and Rayne make love. That thought brought her close to her own climax, a ripple of ecstasy that caused her to moan.

That got Katie’s attention. Breaking away from the kiss, she saw and understood the look in Mummy’s eyes. It was time. She was ready.

Katie spread her legs wide apart, gazing up at her mother with those big brown eyes. “Lick my cunt, Mummy,” she said, a commanding edge to her voice.

Amanda leaned forward until her lips were almost touching Katie’s wetness, close enough to feel their warmth. Inhaling deeply, she savoured the sweet aroma. As she paused, she felt a small hand behind her neck, fingers moving through her hair. It was Rayne, guiding her for the last few inches until her lips found the softness of little Katie’s vulva.

Amanda began by tracing gentle kisses slowly over Katie’s mound and her inner thighs, enjoying the little cries and gasps of pleasure her child made, the way she trembled. As much as she wanted to make this moment last, Amanda couldn’t restrain her hunger, her need for Katie, this enchanting creature that she had given life.

Slipping her tongue between Katie’s lips, then probing down to her core, Amanda finally got a real taste of her daughter’s juices. There was something so fresh and delicate about the flavour… she had to have more. Drunk on love, lust and the forbidden delights of incest, the young mother covered Katie’s cunt with her lips and began to drink from the girl. The thick, rich nectar seemed to warm Amanda’s very soul.

Suddenly a hand grasped a handful of Amanda’s hair and pulled her away. It was Rayne, who leaned in and gave the startled woman a deep passionate kiss, licking Katie’s juices from her lips.

Katie felt excitement churning inside her as she watched Rayne and her mother kiss. She remembered how soft Rayne’s kisses were, then wondered what it would be like to kiss Mum the very same way. It was going to happen, that much she knew.

And she was ready for it. Those uncertain feelings had faded away like morning mist, and Katie needed love. Naked, grownup love. What was threatening to boil over in the young girl couldn’t be held back much longer.

Rayne must have sensed that, too. Breaking her kiss with Amanda, she quickly guided the woman back between Katie’s legs, leaving her there with a pat on the shoulder. Moving to join Miss Cindy, Rayne kissed the director of Latchmore House full on the mouth, giving the woman a taste of Katie’s cunt.

As she went down on her daughter this time, Amanda chose to focus on the girl’s clitoris. She would have preferred to take her time, to nibble on this sweet little slit until mother and child were utterly satisfied. But it was plain to see that Katie was in desperate need of release… and Amanda was determined to give her an orgasm she would never, ever forget.

I’ll lick her the way I want next time, she told herself. And there will be a next time. 

Bringing Katie to Latchmore House was the best decision I ever made, So many new lovers for me to enjoy! And now, my precious little girl is one of them. How lucky can a mother be?

Katie was lost in ecstasy. Mummy’s mouth was doing wonderful things to that special place near the top of her kitty, the bit you touched to get the best feelings of all. It was about to happen again, that moment when the sensations got so huge, she’d go off like a firework. And this one… it’s going to be bigger than ever, so totally, incredibly big. She felt Mummy’s tongue press against her clit, then tease it with four or five rapid flicks.

Her body tensed as a spark of new pleasure made itself known, a tantalising hint of the explosion to follow. She was still nestled in Miss Cindy’s arms, the woman’s nude body pressing against hers. It made Katie wish she’d taken the time to get naked, too. Rayne was taking in the lewd scene with her skirt raised, casually toying with her sex. The sight made Katie’s mouth water, and she promised herself that she’d be licking her new friend down there before the day was done.

Best of all, there was Mummy, doing everything she could to make her feel wonderful. She was gazing at Katie, eyes warm with the love she felt for her daughter. It touched the eleven-year-old deep inside, almost making her want to cry. Mummy’s making love to me, Katie reminded herself, the significance of it sinking in for the first time. She loves me, more than ever!

That was enough to set her off. Katie let out a choked scream as the wave came crashing down, carrying her body this way and that. Her universe was reduced to the ebb, the flow, the push and pull, the rising flood of pleasure that seethed inside. She was caught up in a violent churn of pleasure that slowly, slowly diminished and drained away, leaving the young girl exhausted, but at peace.

When Katie finally opened her eyes, she was stretched out on the couch, lying in her mother’s arms.

“Precious child,” Amanda whispered, “I’m so, so in love with you.”

“I love you too, Mummy,” Katie replied, hugging her mum tightly. “More than anything.” Looking up, she noticed Rayne standing over them. “Hi,” she said, blushing a bit.

“Hello there,” Rayne said, grinning hugely. “Did you like having your cunt licked?”

“It was the best!” Katie answered with a giggle. “I want to try doing it… with Mum, and with you.”

“I like that idea,” Rayne said.

“As do I,” Miss Cindy announced. Everyone looked her way. She was seated in the large chair, still nude, but looking poised and elegant, as if attending an afternoon soiree.

“Katie,” she said, “it’s time for you to prove you can give pleasure, as well as receive it.” She turned her gaze to the girl’s mother. “Amanda… come here.”

Her pulse beginning to throb again, Amanda carefully withdrew from Katie’s embrace and got to her feet, striding over to where Miss Cindy sat. She paused; waited.

“Good girl,” Miss Cindy murmured. “Now sit at my feet.” As Amanda lowered herself to the floor, she added, “You’re about to watch your daughter fuck Rayne. No touching yourself, though… not until I say.”

“Yes, Miss Cindy,” Amanda said with a slight nod.

“However, since you did such a lovely job of pleasuring Katie, I will allow you to rest your head on my leg.”

Without a word, Amanda shifted closer to the older woman, placing her cheek against Miss Cindy’s creamy thigh with a sigh of contentment.

Cindy looked up at Katie. “Undress for us, dear. We want to see all of you.”

The eleven-year-old stood, making short work of the buttons on her white shirt that were still fastened before she shrugged it off. Hesitant to let it drop to the floor, Katie carefully draped the shirt over the arm of the sofa. She then reached down to unhook the skirt, which she peeled away from her legs and laid atop the shirt.

Now Katie was naked. Like her mum, she stood quietly, awaiting Miss Cindy’s instructions.

“You are exquisite, child,” Cindy said. “However, my dear, there is a certain art to removing your clothes in the presence of a lover. That’s something we’ll expect you to learn here at Latchmore. Rayne… show Katie what I mean.”

A knowing smile adorned the young redhead’s lips as she took up position in the room’s centre. She began to caress her thighs, trailing her spread fingers up and down the lightly freckled skin. Seizing the hem of her skirt between finger and thumb, she tugged it upward to reveal more of those lovely legs… but not enough to reveal anything else.

Katie was enthralled. So sexy, she thought. Oh my gosh, so sexy. Katie hadn’t forgotten that Rayne had gone without knickers, and she ached for a glimpse of the girl without the rest of her clothes. She’d  seen Rayne nude earlier when they were changing into the Latchmore House uniforms, but the way her friend was putting herself on display now was something else again.

“See the way she teases, Katie? That’s the idea. When you undress for someone, you want to stir her up, make her burn with desire. You’re playing a game of seduction.”

Standing before Katie, Rayne unbuttoned her blouse, casually nudging it off one shoulder, then the other. She began to slowly twirl, hugging the white top closed with both arms, then came to a stop.

Rayne unclasped the waistband of her skirt and slowly peeled it away, then let it fall to the floor. Aside from her cute knee socks, the girl was nude. By then, they all were.

Taking one last graceful pirouette, Rayne bent forward, presenting her bum to Katie, knowing that she was giving the girl an excellent view of her cunt and anus. By then, she felt certain that Katie had to be imagining what it would be like to taste her.

In fact, that’s exactly what Katie was thinking. She’d admired Rayne’s pretty pink slit before they even met, back when looking up her dress in the fairy garden. Now, after experiencing oral sex for the first time, she longed to try it for herself… and that’s exactly what Miss Cindy intended for her to do.

There was her fairy friend, completely undressed and ready to be licked, but Katie wasn’t sure what to do. She looked over at Miss Cindy, who was toying with her mum’s hair. “Um…” she began, then fell silent.

The woman smiled. “Lie down on the sofa, Katie… then Rayne will feed you her pussy.”

Katie went from uncertain to elated in an instant. Bounding over to the sofa, she stretched out on the dark fabric, wiggling her toes as she settled in, preparing to receive her young lover.

“You know what to do, Rayne,” Miss Cindy purred, idly rolling her left nipple between two fingers.

Amanda’s heart throbbed as she drank in the lewd, lovely scene: her own precious child, about to fuck another girl. It was the happiest moment of her life as a mother.

Just imagine the joy I’ll feel when Katie does that to me, she told herself. My little girl, making sweet love to Mummy.

Rayne moved to straddle Katie, positioning herself above the eleven-year-old’s face, that lovely smooth slit just inches from her lips. She had one hand on the younger girl’s shoulder, pinning it to the couch. With the other hand, she reached down to spread her cunt open. “Is this what you want, Katie?”

“Uh-huh,” Katie nodded, staring wide-eyed at what Rayne had.

“Then tell me the naughty things you want to do. Make sure your mother can hear!”

Katie wasn’t used to saying dirty words, but she found herself pleading. “I want to lick your pussy, Rayne. I – I want to fuck. I want to make you c-come, all over my face!”

Rayne smiled at that. “Well, since you asked nicely….”

“Remember this moment, Katie,” Miss Cindy said as Rayne brought her sex closer to the girl’s lips. “I’m sure you’ve liked girls for a long time, but this is your true initiation as a lesbian.”

When the prize was within reach, Katie managed to sweep her tongue along the length of Rayne’s slit, an instant before it was taken away.

“Rayne!” Katie cried, beside herself with frustration. “Don’t be mean!”

“Do you want more, then?” Rayne teased.

“Yes, pretty please.”

This time, Rayne quickly reversed herself, facing the other direction. Lying down on top of Katie, she burrowed between the younger girl’s thighs.

As Katie joyfully tasted her friend’s cunt, she felt Rayne’s tongue dip into her own pussy. She squirmed with delight, unable to believe her luck. First, Mum licked her, now she and Rayne were doing it to each other at the same time!

“Goodness me,” Cindy said as she lazily caressed Amanda. “Look at your little girl. sixty-nining her new best friend. Have you ever seen anything more adorable?”

“No, Miss Cindy,” Amanda sighed, nuzzling the hand of her beautiful mistress. Without permission to touch herself, every atom of her body was on fire with helpless arousal, and watching the girls, coupled with their moans of ecstasy, made her own need all the more acute.

Soon those moans became squeals of joy as their lovemaking intensified. Katie began to shiver, Rayne quickly followed suit, then the two girls exploded together, their slender bodies jerking helplessly in what looked to be an absolute knee-trembler of an orgasm. They peaked with muffled screams that coincided almost perfectly, then went limp. Somehow, Rayne managed to turn herself around, and sank into Katie’s arms with a happy sigh.

“Oh, my,” Amanda whispered, a few tears rolling down her cheek at the sight of her daughter’s blissful face, which seemed to glow with happiness as she snuggled with her young lover. She brought Miss Cindy’s hand to her lips and pressed a kiss into the woman’s palm. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for – for giving us this.”

“You already had these gifts in your possession, Amanda,” Cindy replied. “All I did was help you find them.” She studied the youngsters, still lovingly entwined. “Beautiful, aren’t they? If there’s anything more pleasing to the eye than a girl who’s just made love, I’ve yet to encounter it.”

Katie and Rayne were already beginning to stir. An adult might have been done in for the night after such a workout, but little girls are nothing if not resilient. A moment later, they were kneeling face to face, kissing and licking their juices from each other’s mouths.

Glancing over at their audience, Rayne whispered something to her friend. Katie quickly nodded, her eyes lighting up like nighttime stars.

They crossed the room and stood before the two women. “Miss Cindy,” Rayne asked politely, “May we please make love to Katie’s mummy?”

There was no way Cindy could refuse such a charming request, so she replied, “You may, girls. Make her feel good… but don’t wear her out. I’ve got special plans for the two of us, later on.”

Katie helped her mum up from the submissive position she’d taken on the floor next to Miss Cindy’s chair. Amanda bent to give her daughter a brief kiss, then padded over to the sofa and sat, posing primly with both thighs touching.

Then as the girls approached, Katie’s mother rested a hand on each knee, slowly spreading them apart to reveal the exotic pink flower of her vulva.

“Your mum has such a pretty pussy,” Rayne sighed, her eyes gleaming with desire.

“Um, thanks!” Katie replied. She loved the idea of having a sexy mother.

Rayne stroked her chin as she studied Amanda. “Why don’t you get up on your hands and knees?” she said. “Then me and Katie can both lick you.”

“Very good, Rayne,” Cindy said. Still seated in her chair, a leg draped over one arm, she was idly circling the entrance to her vagina with the tip of a finger. “Do as she says, Amanda. Believe me, you’ll love it.”

Without a word, Amanda climbed onto the sofa, positioning herself on all fours. Rayne whispered something in Katie’s ear, gesturing toward the girl’s mother.

With an eager nod, Katie crawled beneath her mum, arranging herself so that her head was nestled between Amanda’s thighs.

Joining the others on the sofa, Rayne knelt behind Amanda, resting her hands on the woman’s shapely arse. “Okay, Katie… are you ready?”

“Uh-huh,” the eleven-year-old replied.

Rayne bent forward until her lips were brushing Amanda’s ear. “Go on, then,” she said. “Katie wants your pussy.”

Slowly lowering her hips, Amanda braced herself for the touch of Katie’s mouth. When she felt the first caress of the girl’s warm, wet tongue, a shudder of lust jolted her body.

A groan escaped the woman’s lips, quickly mounting into a wild cry when Rayne moved in to lick the pucker of her bumhole.

The feeling was exquisite. Two pretty nymphs were making love to her, yet somehow making love to each other at the same time. She was part of the kiss, almost inside it, feeling every bit of the girls’ passion as their tongues explored her.

Amanda found herself longing to kiss them back, and imagined their mouths against hers even as the girls continued to pleasure her cunt and anus. These mingled kisses carried the bold, heated flavour of pure eroticism, leaving the thirtyish mother giddy with arousal.

Rayne pulled away for a few seconds, bending down to whisper something in Katie’s ear before she returned to rimming the girl’s mum. Amanda couldn’t hear what was said, but suspected that something crucial was about to happen.

Her instinct was confirmed when Katie clumsily wriggled two fingers into her vagina. It took the girl a few tries to get a decent motion going, but soon enough she was fucking her mum.

“Oh, yes,” Amanda moaned, pushing her knees even further apart to give her daughter better access. Then Katie eased a third finger inside, followed by a fourth, and the woman’s eyes widened. Bloody hell, is she going to…

When Katie’s thumb joined the party, Amanda braced herself for the explosion to come. Inch by glorious inch, her daughter’s hand worked its way deeper into her lust-slicked tunnel. She’d never been fisted before, and it did hurt a bit, but the thought of asking Katie to stop was unthinkable.

Before Amanda was expecting it, that hand slipped past the tight vaginal ring, filling her in a heartbeat. She was perfectly motionless for an instant, staring into space.

Then the sky came crashing down.

A low moan issued from Amanda’s lips, quickly building into a wild, beast-like cry. “Oh God, YES!” she wailed. The two little girls worked even faster; one vigorously licking her bum, the other probing her womanly core.

It was like no orgasm she’d ever felt before. This was a mighty tide that enveloped her body and soul, transporting her away to another, higher plane. The phrase la petite mort drifted into her mind. Yes, this was the “little death” that she’d encountered in poetry… a moment of perfect, blissful emptiness. It rose swiftly to one last unimaginable peak, then Amanda slumped forward when her limbs gave out.

Katie sat up, grinning at Rayne, and the two young lovers drifted together in a tender kiss, exchanging the flavours of Amanda that were smeared on their mouths and chins.

Turning to her mother, now curled up on the sofa, Katie bent to kiss Amanda’s cheek. “I love you, Mummy,” she said.

Amanda gazed deep into her daughter’s eyes… then she began to cry. “Thank you, baby girl,” she sobbed, taking Katie in her arms. “That was… oh, my, it was perfect.” She gazed round the room, smiling at Rayne and Miss Cindy. “I – I love you all.”

“We love you too, Amanda,” Cindy said, advancing to the sofa. She caressed the woman’s damp brow. “I don’t think you’re in any shape to drive home… so tonight, you’ll be sharing my bed.”

“Oooh!” Katie squealed. “We get to stay over?”

“Indeed you do. Rayne, can you look after Ktie for the evening? You both can stay in the spare room upstairs.”

“I’d love to!” the redhead exclaimed, taking the younger girl’s hand in hers.

“Then that’s settled.” Cindy peered at the clock. “Dinner will be served in the Latchmore dining room in about forty-five minutes… that’s enough for us to get cleaned up and dressed.” She pointed toward a door to the left. “I’ve a shower in there. It’s not big enough for all four of us, but we can use it in pairs. Amanda, I think you and Katie should shower first. It seems to me that a little mother-daughter time would be useful for you both. Rayne, you’ll be sharing with me.” Reaching out, she teased the girl’s nipple with a fingertip.

“I’d like that, Miss Cindy,” Rayne replied.

“Excellent. Come, ladies…” Clapping her hands briskly, the nude woman turned, leading the way to the bathroom. The others followed, their eyes drawn to Miss Cindy’s shapely arse.

***

The next morning, Amanda and Cindy were taking coffee and croissants. They had been served by a smiling young maid, who also brought Amanda her clothes, which had been cleaned and pressed for her.

The rest of their evening had been marvellous. After a savoury evening meal, Amanda was taken to a cozy bedroom next to Miss Cindy’s office, where the two women explored lesbian lovemaking from every conceivable angle. In the process, Amanda had sampled many sexual delights for the first time. Some of what they’d done was a blur to her, though a very pleasant blur.

By unspoken agreement, their love play had been put on pause. Now Cindy was speaking to Amanda as the mother of a potential student. Of course, this particular mother still radiated in the afterglow of amazing sex, her breasts barely contained by the silken dressing gown Miss Cindy had loaned her, but their conversation was a serious one.

“Even though you live close enough for Katie to come here as a day school student,” Cindy said, “I think living in Fairy House would be good for her. Still, I couldn’t imagine you two being apart.”

Amanda sighed, “I know she’d be happy here, but I’d miss her terribly – especially now that we’ve finally made love. God, I already want her again.”

“Which leads me to my proposal. How would you feel about living here yourself? We’ve an opening for a house mother, one who can handle a good-sized group of our junior girls. Along with your Katie, there will be fifteen of them.” She gave Amanda a sly smile, certain the suggestion would appeal to her.

“But… I d-don’t have any experience…” Amanda protested, her cheeks reddening at the very thought.

“You’ll have our full support,” Cindy said. “Besides, it’s plain to see that you have a way with girls. Caroline tells me you have a psychology degree – and by the way, she thinks you’d be ideal for the job. At any rate, the decision is mine to make, and seeing what a fine girl you have raised on your own, I’m convinced you’re the one we want.”

“I… Christ almighty,  don’t know what to say!”

Cindy took Amanda’s hand, gave it a squeeze. “It’s simple. Say ‘yes,’ and we’ll get started on the details.”

Being impulsive was out of character for Amanda; so was making hasty decisions. Can I really do this?

The chance to be open about her sexuality and her attraction to young girls would be downright liberating, but there was more to Latchmore than that, much more. In her short time there, she’d seen how seriously  the students took their vows of sisterhood, how much honest affection they shared. She wanted to be part of that — she had to be!

I don’t even know how much the job pays, she reflected, but I’ll find a way to make things work. First thing tomorrow, I ring up Mr. Goulden to tell him I’m chucking his bloody office job.

“I’ll do it,” she said, feeling more confident than she’d expected.

Taking a napkin, Cindy scrawled something on it. Amanda assumed it was a telephone number until she got a good look, her eyes widening as she read the figure.

“I trust this will do for an initial salary… it includes room, board, and full benefits.”

Amanda saw the pound sterling sign in front of the number, but it still took her a while to process. “This is so much!” she gasped.

“Not at all,” Cindy said, “It’s not like we can hire just anyone, after all. We take good care of our staff.”

Soon the girls came down dressed in nothing but short silk robes, having enjoyed breakfast in bed. By then, Miss Cindy’s plans were nearly worked out. Amanda would have the summer to get everything in order and prepare for the new position, Cindy assuring her the Foundation would provide whatever assistance she might need.

When the girls heard the news that Katie’s mum was going to be a Fairy Mother, they were beside themselves with excitement. Upstairs, they had been discussing whether Katie would stay at Latchmore with Rayne or live at home with her mum. Katie didn’t want to be apart from either one… now, she wouldn’t have to!

Once the excitement died down, Miss Cindy placed a small black box on the table before Katie. “Here’s a little something for you.”

Katie opened the box to find a white gold necklace with a charm of stylized interlocking wings, just like the ones she’d seen the other fairies wearing.

“Oh, my goodness!” the girl exclaimed. “Thank you, Miss Cindy!”

“Here, let me put it on you,” said Rayne, taking the necklace.

“Is that okay?” Katie asked, “I mean, before I’ve started here?”

“You only have to stand and say our pledge,” Cindy told her.

“Oh, Piper and Melissa taught me that!” Getting to her feet, Katie solemnly spoke. “The bond of sisterhood unites all fairies. We love, honour, and trust each other. I promise to never break that bond.”

As she completed the words, Rayne deftly clasped the necklace around her neck.

Miss Cindy took Katie’s hands in hers. “I accept your pledge and make you a solemn promise: follow the Latchmore way, and you will always have a place in our family.”

There was a moment’s silence. “Is that it?” Katie finally asked. It seemed too lovely to be true… but sure enough, she was now a Latchmore Fairy!

“Congratulations!” Rayne announced with a giggle as she leaned in for a kiss, which Katie eagerly returned. As the girls’ passion grew, their hands seemed to find their way inside each other’s robes.

“Before we get too distracted…” Miss Cindy said, chuckling as the two girls drew apart, “I have something here for Amanda, too.” She produced a similar necklace, but this one had a larger set of wings in the centre, interlocked with smaller wings to each side. It was the same charm Cindy had worn when she and Amanda first met.

Clasping the necklace around Amanda’s neck, she said, “Our family is more than just our young fairies. You are now joining us as a fairy mother.”

“Mommy Amanda!” Rayne exclaimed, almost jumping into the woman’s arms, “Can I kiss you, too?”

Kisses were shared all around and robes began to fall open. Rayne had shrugged hers to the floor when Cindy interrupted again. “You two need to get showered and dressed. You’re to take Amanda to Fairy House and introduce her to the girls.”

“Cool!” Rayne exclaimed. “C’mon, Katie!” She seized her girlfriend’s hand, and they raced from the room.

“You too, missy,” Cindy continued, giving Amanda’s bum a playful slap. “I’d love to be there with you, but a certain naughty girl distracted me from my work yesterday, and I’ve some business that won’t wait.”

“”I’m sorry to have distracted you, Miss Cindy. Are you going to spank me later?” Amanda said in her best little girl voice, looking down at her feet.

Cindy drew close. “Oh, spanking isn’t the only thing I’m going to do with that hot arse of yours, but that’s going to have to wait. Now go get ready to meet your new little girls.” Abruptly pulling Amanda close, she kissed the woman, briefly tongue-fucking her mouth, then strutted into the bathroom and closed the door.

Amanda stared at the closed door, her heart racing, then gave a shaky laugh. Taking her neatly folded clothes from Cindy’s desk, she exited the office, making her way upstairs to join Katie and Rayne.

On to Chapter Eight!

For a useful summary of the plot thus far, please consult the Chapter Links before reading.

 

by kinkys_sis and kinkychic

CAPTAIN BREN

Gentle swells rocked the ship as she lay at anchor and we waited for the boats to return with fresh provisions. The time passed slowly and tensely, for certainly, we were not welcome here in Tortola. Indeed, we were barely tolerated, but I had chosen to resupply in the Virgin Islands because they offered multiple escape routes, should we be forced to flee.

For the hundredth time, I swept the foreshore of Road Town with my spyglass, searching for any signs of hostility. A large, six-oared cutter was slowly approaching, though none of the men showed any weapons. In fact, I was surprised to see a woman perched on the thwart, holding a parasol as protection from the merciless sun.

The boat drew closer, and a man called out. “Are you be’in’ the Siren?”

“An’ who be askin’?” the bosun snapped back.

The woman suddenly stood. “Is that you, Davy?”

My heart jumped in my breast. That voice! It could belong to only one person, but I did not dare allow myself to believe it.

Davy’s quizzical expression told me he had the same thought. I nodded slightly, granting him leave to wave the boat alongside and order a chair to be sent down. I raced across the deck as the delicate cargo was being lowered amidships, but came to a sudden standstill short of the goal, staring dumbfounded at the vision that had turned to face me. Those of the crew still aboard watched speechlessly. Some might remember her, though many would not.

It was Davy who broke the silence. “Er… Cap’ain… “

Marianna took a hesitant step forward, I raised my hands towards her, and she ran to me. The parasol flew away, her hat followed, and she was in my arms. Her body was wracked with sobs, and her small fists beat my chest. “Where have you been? So long I’ve waited for you!”

I pulled her close, trapping her flailing arms between us, and pressed my face to her hair. It wouldn’t do for the crew to see that I was close to tears myself.

“Marianna – dearest! – I searched for you when I could, but I could find no trace of you. It was as if you had vanished from the face of the earth.”

She looked up at me. “You did? You really looked for me?”

“Yes, I did. Truly.” I forgot that I was the captain of a ship as I bent my head. Our lips came together, and five years melted away in a second.

Raucous yells and whistles shattered our bond. We pulled apart, red-faced, but still, we gazed at each other. She lifted a hand to my unkempt, free-flowing hair before lowering her eyes to my jutting breasts.

“Bren, you’re not hiding what you are from them anymore. And Davy just called you captain. How can that be?”

“A long story. But first, may I ask? Is this to be just a quick visit? Or can you stay a while?”

“That is entirely up to you. I can stay as long as you wish.” Suddenly she stamped her foot. “Bren, can we stop being so damn’d formal! Are we…can we still be l–?”

Davy saw the awkwardness of the situation. Now, as so many times in my life, he came to the rescue once again. “Back to work, you lazy lot!” he roared at the crew. “You’s ’ad yer fun!” He turned to us. “Best be takin’ our guest to your cabin, Cap’ain.” He touched Marianna’s hand. “It be’in’ a pleasure to see you ag’in, missy, that it is.”

I barely had time to lock the door behind me before she was back in my arms, exclaiming, “Dios mío, tanto tiempo!” It was indeed – five long years. Then she crushed her lips to mine. Long ago, her lovemaking had been gentle. Now, she was a demon ripping at my clothes. Not that I was especially restrained myself.

Suddenly, I was naked, and her own gown was half off. I reached for her, determined to complete the job, but she pushed me back. “I want to look at you, see how you have changed.” Her eyes sparkled. “You are no longer a young girl, but a beautiful woman. My God, so very beautiful.” Her hand felt my arm. “And your muscles… so strong.” Her hand moved to my breast, caressing it softly. I was dying to ravish her.

The look of wonder abruptly changed to a grimace. I saw she was struggling for the right words. I thought for a moment it was the scars that had shocked her. “What is it, my love?” I asked “What’s wrong? Tell me.”.

“H… have you, have there been… others?”

Was that all that was worrying her? I chose my words carefully. “One small encounter only. It meant nothing. It took care of a passing need, that’s all.”

She seemed to consider my answer, and then she smiled. “Then in that case, it is forgotten.”

Her eyes went to the long diagonal scar just below my breast, and her fingers slowly traced its length. Then she reached up and brushed my hair aside, exposing another scar. “I can see you have been in battle. You look like a beautiful warrior. The question is, are you my warrior? Do you still want me?”

I saw the pleading in her eyes when I lifted her chin. “I have never stopped loving you,” I said. “There have been days of hope and then despair when I searched for you. I thought you might have returned to Spain after I heard Isabella and your father died from the fever. I knew you had inherited sufficient means to do as you pleased. More than that… nothing! It didn’t matter how much I asked. And I could hardly sail into Cuba and enquire. They would have executed me and my crew on the spot.”

I kissed her lightly. “But now you are here.”

“And now I am here.” Her hands went to the fastenings of her dress, completing the task I had begun. Her smile was back, dazzling in its radiance. “What would you do with me?” she asked. The playfulness in her voice was like a knife to my heart. She gave a shrug, the dress slipped down her arms, and her two wonderful breasts bobbled into view. “As with you, I have grown, and these have not been touched, not since before my mother passed away.”

She giggled as she skipped back from my grasping hands. “Wait, love.”

“I can’t!”

“But you will,” she said.

Calmly, she pushed the dress over her hips. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of the neatly trimmed patch of black hair. I had no idea that ladies did that. My eyes travelled to the gorgeous folds that formed the lips of her pussy. It was almost as if I were looking between her mother’s legs. The faint glistening was obvious. She was aroused, and for me.

She was also watching me intently. “Bren, say something. Or do I disappoint you?”

“What? Disappoint? My God, Marianna! You were pretty when we were girls. Now, you are so beautiful.” Her smile blossomed as I dropped to my knees – half from desire, half from weakness – and buried my face in her fine hair. I marvelled at the softness that tickled my nose. Then I caught the aroma, which released the flood of memory.

I nuzzled lower until I felt the damp on my lips. Pressing deeper, I grasped her backside and pulled her to me. Her fingers ploughed through my hair before her hips moved. She began to rub herself against my face. “Bren,” she said in a strangled voice. “My Bren, love me. How I have yearned for this moment… fuck yes, fuck me, Bren!”

If I had stopped to think, her words would have shocked me, but I was beyond taking any notice. Her hips seemed to gyrate in all directions, her clit now palpably beneath my tongue. Somehow, I managed to get two fingers inside her pussy. I sucked, I licked, I fucked.

The gyrations suddenly stopped as she went rigid. Then I felt her lifting on the balls of her feet. Her fingers tightened in my hair, and she grunted lustily. I worked my tongue faster, flicking and teasing her clit, even as I pumped the hot and slippery depths of her cunt. Her inner muscles seemed alive as they clutched at my fingers. God, how she shook!

I went to stand when the swells of her orgasm had passed, but she dropped to the deck with me. Her arms drew me into a solid embrace. Her lips sought mine. She poured her years of frustration and despair into that kiss. Once again, I could feel the wetness of her tears.

When we finally pulled apart, I saw those tears were an expression of happiness. Her eyes sparkled through them as she caressed my face. “I have my Bren back. Don’t you ever leave me, I could not endure that torment again.” Once more we kissed, but this time it was the soft, lingering kiss of lovers reunited.

She turned to look at my cot. “Shall I love you here? Or will we move to your bed?”

“The bed, of course.”

But, for a short trip, it proved to be a difficult manoeuvre. Our hands took on lives of their own as we stumbled across the cabin, grabbing at one another’s breasts, bottoms and pussies. And, with our lips sealed together, and our tongues rolling about like jollyboats in a storm, we could hardly see where we were going. It was an awkward, bruising few steps. My bare hip struck the centre table, her foot caught the leg of the captain’s plush chair, and we tumbled sidewise over my cot. I smacked my head against a beam on the way down. We had to laugh, but the low comedy was quickly forgotten as Marianna slid to the deck, kneeling between my outstretched legs, and planted her mouth right where I had so often dreamed of it.

A good time later, we lay in each other’s arms, exchanging dozens of soft kisses before Marianna finally spoke. “Did you get this in a battle?” she asked, delicately touching the scar on my cheek.

“Not the kind you’re thinking of. It was a battle though, one for my own survival.”

I explained to her how the quality of crew aboard a privateer depends on the skill and success of its captain. The more captures he makes, the more volunteers he attracts. The richer he makes them, the harder they are willing to work for him – or her.

***

We had a good crew aboard the Siren, as disciplined and well trained as any in the Royal Navy. But good fortune had turned its back on us. Mutterings of discontent were growing louder and more distinct by the week. Being a legally warranted privateer was not now paying enough to keep the crewmen satisfied.

The captain called me to his cabin. “What do you hear, Bren? Is there trouble afoot?” His trepidation was clear to see, and for the first time, I saw how weary he looked.

“Aye, Captain, I believe there might be.” I had been about to say more, but he waved me to silence.

“I’m tired, Bren. The truth of it is I’ve had enough. I would rather hand over to someone else and go of my own accord than to be overthrown. D’you see?”

His words shocked me. Over the past five years, I had grown accustomed to his guiding hand, and the trust he had placed in me. It was as if he had become more of a father than a commander. I considered what he had said, however, and clearly saw the sense of it.

“But who will become captain? I can see the crew being split several ways.”

His next words stunned me. “You will, my lad. Probably not without a fight, but I believe you can do it. I’m certain that you will have more than enough of the crew to back you. It’s what I want. I’ve seen how you have won the respect of the crew. You have fought alongside them. Indeed, they were following you before you were in a position to lead them. You led by example before you even knew it, but they knew it. You must have wondered why I made you first mate at such a young age.”

It was a lot for me to take in. In one year I had gone from a deckhand, albeit the captain’s assistant, to first mate, and now potentially, captain. Was it possible? Was I ready for the responsibility? What I did know was, ready or not, I wanted it.

The captain had one last point to make. “I own this ship. I will retain ownership. But, in all other respects, she is yours to command. I shall naturally expect a percentage return for my investment in you.”

A short time later, the crew gathered on deck as the ship swung slowly on her anchor. Ships such as the Siren don’t have officers in the sense the navy does. The officers were simply those who commanded respect through special knowledge or superior skills.

The crew peered up at us – the captain, the sail master, the gun captain, the surgeon and myself, the first mate. The captain wasted little time with words. He more or less just told them he was about to retire. Had we been sailing as a true pirate ship, the new captain would have been elected by the crew. Things were different aboard a privateer. Here the captain had more say. Besides, it was his ship. He simply told them that I would be the new captain. He had made up his mind, and that was that. That evening, he was gone.

It was Davy who warned me of the trouble brewing. A small faction was refusing to accept me as the captain, led by a man who had been grumbling ever since I had become first mate. He believed that distinction should have been awarded to him.

On deck, this man demanded this be settled the pirate way. I could have refused, but I saw he carried enough support to make for a very unhappy ship. I had no choice but to agree. Davy offered to fight in my place, but I told him no, I would never gain the crew’s respect that way.

He was a big brute of a man, though in a duel of cutlasses, sheer strength counted for little. His thrusts would be deadly, but I was faster and far more nimble on my feet. Strangely, it did not occur to me that my sex placed me at a disadvantage.

I was foolish enough not to expect the directness of his attack, and that’s how I got the scar on my face. After that, I used my speed to strike fast and then retreat. Within ten minutes he was bleeding from numerous cuts, but still, he kept on coming. It was when I slipped on his blood that he saw his chance. Before I had fully recovered, I received the slash across my chest. He very nearly had me.

Then he slipped in his turn. It was the opening I needed. I managed to wedge the hilt of my sword on the deck as he fell straight onto it. He was dead in seconds. He must have received twenty, maybe thirty cuts. I had only the two. The crew thought it a resounding victory.

I managed to walk myself to the surgeon, who, of course, discovered my breasts. He was a loyal man, however. He swore to keep my secret, and he honoured his word. It was after we had taken two valuable prizes that I decided to reveal my true identity.

We knew our privateer’s charter would soon expire, and we would be pirates once more. I got the black flag from the locker and called for the crew to muster.

The new first mate and I held the flag spread between us, although I was standing behind it. “We will soon be sailing under this flag again. What is our ship named?” I shouted.

“The Siren!” they yelled.

“And what is a Siren?”

“The mermaid,” they yelled again, pointing at the flag.

“And do we not have a mermaid as our figurehead?”

They were clearly puzzled as to where this was going, yet still, they cheered.

Having previously removed my bindings, I wore naught but a thin linen shirt, loose enough to reveal the gully between my tits – shallow, certainly, but noticeable to anyone who bothered to look. “Then would it not be fitting to be led into battle by a siren?”

With that, I stepped from behind the flag and raised my cutlass high in the air, thrusting out my breasts for all to see.

There was a stunned silence for a few moments, and then the mutterings began.

I yelled for quiet. “Have I not fought to be in my position? Have I not taken you to victory? Do you not at this moment have more coin to show than ever before?”

Davy came and took my corner of the flag. He and the first mate held it high as they called, “The Siren!” The crew took up the chant until I once more raised my arms.

“Then there is only one question… do I lead you to more success, to more wealth? Are you with me?”

There was a halfhearted murmur of assent. The men looked askance at one another, each hoping someone else would take responsibility for the decision.

“Anyone who does not care to serve under a woman is free to leave,” I said. “But if you join with me, know this: grab my tits or my arse, and you will be minus one hand.”

That last comment brought a laugh, followed by a raucous cheer.

***

“So, there you have it, my love,” I said. “I am now Captain Bren, the only feminina ship’s master in the Caribbean.”

She had listened to my story in silence. Now, she touched my face. “The Queen of the Pirates,” she called me. “Who would have thought? So young – just nineteen – and those men follow you like any other captain.”

With a mischievous grin on her face, she asked, “Now tell me – who is the captain’s woman?”

Soon to come: Chapter Five!

 

Note from JetBoy: Since this second chapter picks right up where the previous one ends, here’s a brief summary.

When obliged to invite a new student from school to her sleepover, thirteen-year-old River worries that the presence of Alyssa, a girl she barely knows, will put a damper on an evening of sexy fun with her best girlfriends. However, there’s much more to this new acquaintance than meets the eye… as it turns out, Alyssa likes girls, too.  Intrigued, they settle in for a game of Truth or Dare, hoping it might lead to something exciting. Does it? Read on and see, friends…

***

By No One

“So, my turn to ask a question, right?” Kacey said once they’d all settled down.

“Are we still doing that?” River asked. “And wait, isn’t it my turn? I didn’t ask anything yet.”

“Okay, ask this then.” Kacey leaned in to whisper her suggestion in River’s ear. In typical Kacey fashion, it was the most embarrassing thing imaginable.

“I’m not asking that!” River protested.

“Well, you’re boring then. And boring people skip their turn.” Kacey turned to Alyssa. “So, what’s the most times you’ve masturbated in a day?”

Livi rolled her eyes. “Jesus, Kacey.”

“What? It’s a valid question.”

“Is it, though?”

Alyssa laughed nervously. “Wow. Err, well… I mean…”

Livi shrugged. “Don’t be embarrassed, I guarantee you won’t have the highest count,” she said, with a meaningful glance at Kacey.

“Heh, okay… Well, I guess like, um, three times.”

Livi nodded. “Same.”

Kacey turned to River, arching an eyebrow.

River felt the heat rise to her face. “Err… I think… four times?” She was definitely not a compulsive masturbator, but there were just some days when everything seemed to make her horny…

“Hah! I win!” Kacey announced, looking very pleased with herself.

“It’s not a competition…” Livi said.

“So, how many…?” Alyssa sounded as if she might not want to know the answer.

“Ten times!” Kacey looked rather smug, as if that was something to be proud of.

“Ten? Like, how? And, um, why?”

Kacey shrugged. “Just one of those days, I guess. Gotta admit, I was really sore by the end… but might as well finish on a round number, right?”

Alyssa stared for a moment, then glanced at River and Livi. “She serious?”

“I wasn’t a witness to this so-called accomplishment, but… yeah, I believe her,” Livi said. “This one’s a real hornball.”

“Heh, I guess you would know. I still can’t believe that you all… y’know, do it together. Um, how did that even start?”

“Well, that was, what, a couple years ago? Year and a half?” River said, and the others nodded. “It was a sleepover just like this, and, well… speaking of Kacey being a hornball…”

“What? I can’t sleep if I don’t get myself off first,” the girl in question interrupted.

“So you keep others from sleeping instead?” Livi said.

“Wasn’t that loud.”

“Eh, pretty loud.” River turned back to Alyssa. “Anyway, Kacey was doing you-know-what while we were in bed, and I was too polite to say anything, but Livi called her out and—”

Kacey pointed from River to Livi. “And you both had to admit that you usually did it, too!”

“Well, yeah.” River still remembered what a turn-on it had been to know her friends touched themselves at night, just like she did.

“And then someone suggested that we all do it in front of each other. Y’know, just to see,” Livi said.

Kacey looked at her pointedly. “And who was that someone, Livi?”

“I don’t remember,” Livi replied, her face a portrait of innocence. “Could have been anybody.”

River and Kacey exchanged a look, then each raised an eyebrow at Livi.

“So it might’ve been me. I was curious and… y’know, wanted to watch my best friends fuck themselves. Who hasn’t been there?”

They all laughed, then River resumed the tale. “So we did that and, well… it was really hot.” She couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, though not enough to keep her from grinning at the memory of that incredible night. Her friends were smiling, too.

“Wow. I… I bet.” Alyssa looked rather stunned. “And then you… tried doing it to each other, huh?”

“Well, not that night. But it kinda became a thing that we would, um, jill off together. And then, yeah, eventually—”

“Then some genius thought it would be even better to rub each other, and damn, she was so right,” Kacey interrupted. “That was me, by the way,” she added, as if there could possibly be any doubt. “Yep, then we tried it all. Rubbing, licking, fingering… And for River, in—”

Now it was River’s turn to interject. “Okay! She doesn’t need to hear all the details!” There were some things that ought to remain private, even when you were trying to get a new girl into bed.

“Holy crap…” Alyssa shook her head, overwhelmed. “That’s… that’s really wild.”

“Soooooo…” Kacey began, eyeing Alyssa, stretching out the word until it became painfully obvious what she was getting at. “You wanna join in?”

“Wha… For real?” Alyssa looked at the three of them like she still expected the whole thing to be some kind of prank. “Whoa, um, I… I dunno… Things are moving real fast right now. Uh, I think I’d need to think about it…”

Kacey shrugged. “I’m just sayin’… Well, you’re dead sexy. And we’d have a lot of fun.”

“Don’t push her,” River said. “It’s okay if you don’t feel like it,” she told Alyssa. To be honest, she was dying to get her hands on the girl, but knew the risk of coming on too strong.

“Or you could just watch…” Livi added.

Alyssa laughed, perhaps thinking it was a joke. “Hmm, well, that could be tempting.”

“Fine with me!” Kacey said. “So I say that means the challenge is back on!” She pointed at Livi. “You’re going down!”

“Well, yeah. That’s the point, isn’t it?” Livi replied, deadpan.

River snorted. Kacey frowned, confused, then burst out laughing when she got the joke.

Alyssa glanced at River, looking puzzled. “Huh? The challenge?”

“Oh, these two have a kind of bet going on about, um… well, about who can make the other come the fastest. Like, at the same time. Y’know, sixty-nining.”

Alyssa’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa! Wild. And… kinda hot?”

“And now we have two judges for this very important competition,” Kacey said. “So let’s do it.” With that, she unceremoniously pulled off her tank top to reveal her bare chest, nearly as flat as a boy’s. Despite teasing the girl about that from time to time, River still thought Kacey was very sexy in her own way. Now she was feeling a little jealous of Livi, who’d get to enjoy that tight, thin body very soon.

Alyssa’s jaw dropped. “Wait, wait. You’re talking about doing… all that stuff… right now?” She stared at River. “What about your mom?”

“Oh, don’t worry about her,” River said. “She has, like, insomnia problems, so she takes sleeping pills that put her out like a light. Mom always tells us to keep the noise down, but I don’t think she’d notice if we blew up the house.”

“Oh, huh… That’s cool… Err, I mean! It’s not cool for your mom! But—”

“I know what you mean, don’t worry. And yeah, we might have put the situation to good use a few times.”

“Lots of times,” Kacey added, grinning.

Meanwhile, Livi was taking off her own shirt, those perky breasts coming into view. River thought she had to be at least a B-cup by now, maybe bigger, though she’d never actually asked. Whatever the case, Livi looked hot as hell stripped down to those little shorts. Now River was envying Kacey, who would get to taste her first.

Maybe this challenge had been a bad idea after all. River didn’t want to sit on the sideline anymore.

Kacey and Livi looked at each other, maybe wondering if they should get straight to it or not, but it seemed that they couldn’t keep things strictly ‘business’, because after a moment they slowly drifted together in a kiss that quickly heated up to a full boil.

“Wow, they’re…” Alyssa whispered.

“Hot?” River suggested.

“Well, yeah.” Alyssa chuckled. “But also, like… beautiful? I mean, in a different way than just sexy or hot… if that makes any sense.”

“Yeah, I get it. And you’re right.” River had noticed it before, how there was just something special between Livi and Kacey when they kissed, something beyond the sight of two cute girls making out. It was funny, in a way. The two of them were always sparring about something, but when they got together like this, they became… yes, beautiful. Perfectly matched in some way. River sometimes had to wonder if she was the third wheel in their little group.

“So, they’re really going to… you know? In front of us?”

“Uh-huh. They sure are. You okay with that?”

“Um… I guess so! Just… never had someone have sex right in front of me, y’know?” Alyssa laughed. “It’s sure not how I imagined this night going!”

“Is it better than you thought?”

“Well…” Alyssa’s lips curled up in a mischievous smile. “I’m not complaining!”

All the while, Kacey and Livi were making out like they were the only ones in the room. They finally came up for air, flushed and out of breath.

“Phew,” Kacey said, exhaling deeply. She noticed River and Alyssa staring, and gave herself a shake. “Um, right, I guess we should get to it.” She pushed her panties down like she didn’t care at all who was looking—she probably didn’t, actually—revealing the sparse reddish curls that adorned her sex.

Livi hesitated for just a second, then shrugged and followed suit, taking off her shorts to expose her pussy., The lips were framed by dark brown pubes that were a little thicker than Kacey’s. “You want top or bottom?” she asked her rival.

“Whatever.”

“Okay! I’ll be on top then!”

Kacey frowned. “Wait… Is that better?”

Livi flashed a mysterious smile. “I don’t know? Is it?”

Kacey grimaced. “I hate when you pull this shit!” She furrowed her brow, apparently trying to decipher if there really was some strategic advantage for top over bottom.

“How about we flip a coin?” River suggested.

“Works for me,” Kacey said with a last frown directed at Livi.

Crossing the room to her desk, River fetched a quarter, then said, “Okay, let’s see… Kacey, heads and it’s your head facing up, tails and it’s your, well, tail.”

Kacey chuckled. “Okay!”

River spun the coin into the air, caught it and flipped it down onto the back of her other hand. “Tails! All right, Kacey on top, Livi on the bottom.”

“Excellent,” Livi said, still smiling.

“What? You wanted on top!” Kacey exclaimed.

“Did I, though?”

Alyssa laughed. “Wow, the mind games here.”

Kacey let out a resigned sigh. “Whatever, just lie down!”

Livi complied, positioning herself on the bed. Kacey climbed over her, and they aligned their mouths and sexes as best they could, what with the height difference between the girls. Kacey glanced at River. “Okay, count to three.”

River snorted. “So official. All right then. One… two… two and a half…” She giggled when she got two identically annoyed glares. “Three! Go!”

And go they certainly did. The girls buried their faces into each other’s pussy, twin muffled moans echoing through the room as soon as their eager tongues got to work. River almost felt like moaning herself, just from watching. God, she needed her pussy licked, too.

“Holy crap…” Alyssa breathed, her eyes round as saucers.

River grinned at her, then leaned to one side to get a better view. Kacey was tonguing Livi’s sex with wild abandon, pausing only briefly from time to time when an especially forceful moan escaped her lips. At the other end, it looked like Kacey had tried to squirm away from Livi’s mouth, but now Livi had a firm grip on her rival’s ass, holding Kacey in place so there was no escape from her probing tongue.

The air was filled with the scent of arousal, the sounds of licking and sighs of pleasure. River didn’t need to slip a hand into her shorts to know she was soaking wet. Didn’t need to touch, but definitely wanted to.

Glancing sideways, River saw that Alyssa was transfixed, intently watching the others, a hand resting in her lap. Now and again, the girl’s fingers seemed to press into the crotch of her leggings, maybe unconsciously… maybe not. Suddenly noticing that River was looking at her, Alyssa hurriedly took her hand away. Had her cheeks just turned a shade darker?

River gave Alyssa a wink. She couldn’t blame her new friend for wanting to play with herself. Hell, she was dying to do the same. With a shrug, she made a show of pulling on the waistband of her shorts and plunging a hand in. She’d normally be way too shy to do something so overt in front of a relative stranger, but fuck it, she was too horny to care. Besides, she wanted Alyssa to be totally at ease to masturbate if she cared to.

She gasped as soon as her fingers made contact, rocking her body with a jolt of pleasure. The look of mixed surprise and arousal she saw on Alyssa’s face only turned her on more.

Soon, she was pleased to see that Alyssa’s hand was back between her thighs, though still outside the leggings she wore. River alternated between watching Kacey and Livi going at it and eyeing Alyssa as she timidly touched herself, both very hot displays.

River was dipping a finger between her pussy lips every few seconds, teasing herself but avoiding going all out on her clit just yet. She yearned to come, but knew she’d have a much stronger orgasm if she waited for Kacey or Livi to give it to her. Or maybe even… Giving Alyssa a sideways glance, she wondered if the girl was having second thoughts about joining in.

Scooching closer to her, River whispered, “Enjoying the show?” Livi and Kacey were still going wild on each other, their moans growing more urgent, but neither of them had surrendered to ecstasy just yet.

“Omigod, they’re soooo sexy.”

As Alyssa leaned forward a little, intent on the action, River got an eyeful of cleavage through the collar of her oversized shirt. She bit her lip, thinking she sure wouldn’t mind some action of her own with this beautiful black girl. Should she try anything?

Pushed forward by her fierce need, River said,  “You’re pretty hot yourself, y’know.”

Alyssa turned to meet her gaze. “Th-thanks. You, um… you too.”

River smiled, and Alyssa responded with a rather nervous smile of her own. River was very conscious of how close they were sitting, their faces less than a foot apart. She eyed Alyssa’s full lips, longing to taste them. “Ever kissed anyone?”

Alyssa shook her head.

River hesitated, then figured she might as well go for broke. “You don’t have to, but…  wanna try it?”

Alyssa stared at her for a few seconds, and River began to regret making the offer. She hadn’t meant to push too much or make her guest uncomfortable. Once more, she reminded herself that this was all new to Alyssa.

Just as she was about to apologize, though, Alyssa spoke. “Okay,” was all she said.

“Oh, yeah?” River replied. “Cool!” Excitement surged through her. She’d only ever kissed Livi and Kacey, and they were well used to each other by now. The prospect of making out with someone new—especially someone as pretty as Alyssa—had River’s pulse racing.

She leaned forward, closing her eyes, and their lips met. The kiss was rather tentative at first, with Alyssa’s inexperience showing, but soon enough they got a feel for each other. Alyssa’s lips were nice and soft, slightly different from Kacey’s or Livi’s in their own way. River figured that every girl’s mouth must feel subtly distinct when kissing.

“Mm. That’s nice,” Alyssa said once their lips parted.

“Right?”

They exchanged smiles, Alyssa’s more assured than before, then River went back in for another kiss. Her partner eagerly welcomed it, quickly growing in confidence as their mouths moved together. River decided that Alyssa would fit in quite nicely with their little group.

Lost in the kiss, River let a hand wander to Alyssa’s thigh, then up her side, her ribs, her… She paused just before reaching the girl’s breast, realizing just in time that her new partner might consider that a big step to cross. “Is this okay?” she asked.

This time, Alyssa hesitated only a second before giving a quick nod, then leaned forward to capture River’s mouth with her own.

River was pleased that Alyssa was already taking the lead—oh yes, they’d get along very well—and even more pleased that she’d been given permission to fondle to her heart’s content. She wasted no time cupping one of Alyssa’s ample breasts. Damn, they were definitely bigger than Livi’s. She quickly found the stiff nipple, straining against the fabric of Alyssa’s shirt, and teased it between finger and thumb, making her partner moan into their kiss.

She rested her other hand on Alyssa’s thigh, already wondering if the girl would let her slide it between her legs, or even inside her leggings…

Urgent cries suddenly reminded River that they weren’t alone in the room. Breaking apart, they turned towards the bed, where Livi and Kacey were both trembling, moaning loudly as they ate each other. She was pretty sure they were both coming.

“Uh, oops. Did you notice who came first?” she whispered to Alyssa, who only gave a helpless shrug. “Shit.”

Kacey finally rolled off Livi, and for a moment both girls lay spent, sweaty, panting and utterly sated… and sexy as hell. Kacey struggled to sit up, then lifted an arm up in victory. “I win!”

“What? No way! You totally came first,” Livi protested.

“Nuh-uh. You cried out before me!”

“Just one cry doesn’t mean I’m actually coming… You were shaking all over. I know how you are when you come, girl.”

“I know how you are, too! Okay, River, tell her I’m the winner.”

Both girls turned towards River expectantly.

“Ummm… actually, it was… pretty much at the same time,” River said. It might have been the truth, but she simply wasn’t sure. “Right, Alyssa?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’d say so.”

Kacey and Livi both frowned, serious doubt etched on their faces.

“No way,” Kacey said. “Were you guys even paying attention?” She peered at River and Alyssa suspiciously, taking in the fact that they were practically in each other’s lap. River belatedly took her hand away from Alyssa’s thigh, which probably just made her look even guiltier. “Wait a minute, what’s going on over there? I thought you were just gonna watch, New Girl!”

Alyssa scratched the back of her head, looking extremely sheepish. “Welllll… you know… it got a little, um, heated around here… and maybe one thing led to another…”

Livi and Kacey looked at each other. “They were fooling around instead of doing their damn job!” Kacey said.

“Unbelievable. Failing their sacred duty.” Livi shook her head with the intense disappointment of a parent whose child flunked all their classes.

“Now we’re gonna have to do it all over again, some other time,” Kacey sighed. The two looked somber for a few seconds, then broke into a grin. “Well, that’s fine with me!” she added.

Livi turned to River and Alyssa. “So… do we also get to have fun with Alyssa, or is it a private thing between you two?”

“I’m okay with sharing,” River said, then looked at Alyssa. “What do you think?”

Alyssa blinked, looking at each of them in turn, then finally shrugged. “When in Rome, I guess!”

“All right!” Kacey pumped her fist, then jumped down from the bed to join River and Alyssa on the mattresses. “I think you’re wearing too much, though.”

Alyssa looked down at herself, then at the very nude Kacey. “Oh… maybe?”

Kacey glanced at Livi. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” At Livi’s nod, she shouted, “Get ‘em!”

Alyssa squealed as Kacey pounced on her, grasped the waistband of her leggings and tried to pull them down. Meanwhile, Livi grabbed the bottom of River’s shorts and gave them an insistent tug.

“Hey, you don’t have to force me,” River said, laughing. She was only too happy to get naked.

Lifting her butt, she let Livi yank off her shorts, then took off her own top and tossed it to the side. Now teaming up with Livi, they each snagged one side of Alyssa’s shirt and pulled it over her head—without much resistance, as the girl lifted her arms to help. At the same time, Kacey finished taking off the leggings, leaving all of them buck naked.

“Holy shit!” Kacey exclaimed, staring at Alyssa’s chest. “Move over, Livi. We have a new Queen of Tits.”

“Queen of… ugh.” Livi facepalmed. “Did you really just say that? First of all, you of all people should know that it’s not the size that matters.” She reached out to pinch Kacey’s nipple, and got furiously swatted away. Turning back to Alyssa, she added, “But that said… yeah, wow, amazing boobs, gotta say.”

“Um, th-thanks? God, this is so embarrassing.” Alyssa squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would make the situation go away.

River protectively wrapped her arms around the poor girl. “C’mon. Leave her alone, you guys.” She could well imagine how awkward it would be to find yourself the center of attention like this. Still, her friends were totally right: Alyssa had magnificent tits. They were big for a girl her age, but perky and perfectly shaped. River had a strong urge to fondle one, but restrained herself for the moment.

Instead, she turned to Alyssa and said, “It’s okay. They just think you’re super hot. As they should.” She gave the girl a soft kiss, pleased to feel her relax in response.

“Yeah! I wasn’t making fun at all. I’m super jelly, actually,” Kacey said, shifting closer. “So… Can I touch them?” she asked—blunt as always, but flashing a cheeky grin. “I mean, you can feel mine, too, but…” She looked down at herself. ”Yeah, there’s not much there.”

Alyssa gave a shaky laugh. “No, I think you’re… pretty hot, too.”

Kacey thrust her chest forward. “Go ahead, then.”

Alyssa giggled at the absurdity of the situation, but a mischievous smile played on her lips. She reached out with one hand, hesitated a second, then ran her palm over one of Kacey’s little boobs. She gave it a squeeze, her smile growing wider, then dragged a thumb across the stiff nipple, making Kacey draw in a sharp breath.

Then it was Kacey’s turn to explore Alyssa’s tits. Gazing into the girl’s eyes, she waited for a nod, then grabbed two big handfuls. “Woooow,” she said, clearly impressed, while Alyssa let out a cute little whimper.

River was watching the scene, partly aroused and partly jealous of Kacey, when Livi pressed up against her back. A quick lick at her ear made River gasp.

“So… Did you at least get wet watching us, or were you too distracted?” Livi’s hand snaked around River’s tummy and slipped between her legs, one finger deftly pushing straight into her. “Mmm, damn… sure is juicy down there.”

River cried out at this sudden but very pleasant intrusion. That got the notice of Alyssa, who grinned at her when she noticed what Livi was doing. But her attention was soon taken away when Kacey claimed her mouth in a heated kiss.

River watched the passionate exchange as Livi’s finger moved back and forth inside her, then it slipped out and began to rapidly tickle her clit. “God, yeah, Liv. I need it so bad,” River moaned, leaning back against her friend.

“Well, then… maybe you should have done your job properly.” And with that, Livi suddenly withdrew, letting River fall back on one of the mattresses. “So instead, Alyssa gets to come first,” Livi said, moving towards the other girl but looking back at River, making a show of sucking on the finger that had been inside her.

“What? That’s not fair!” River protested. “Alyssa got distracted, too!”

“Maybe. But I have a feeling I know who started the distraction.” Livi playfully nudged Kacey away from their guest. “My turn,” she said, then began to kiss Alyssa herself.

River couldn’t exactly deny that she was the one who had initiated things with Alyssa when they were supposed to be “judging” but… it still seemed unfair. Grumbling to herself, she sat back up, watching her three friends.

Kacey shot Livi an annoyed look—which the girl completely ignored, busy as she was making out with Alyssa. With a shrug, Kacey bent to use her mouth on Alyssa’s nipple instead. She extended her tongue to flick at the stiff little nub while fondling the other breast.

“Ah! God!” Alyssa gasped. She glanced from one girl to the other, looking rather taken aback. “This is… so wild,” she said before meeting Livi’s lips again.

Kacey raised her head from Alyssa’s breast just long enough to say, “Wait ‘til we get to your pussy!”

River smiled. She knew full well how deliciously overwhelming it could be to find yourself the center of attention of two horny girls. And if two were so great, what about three?

She eyed the scene. There was a very choice spot left for her.

Crawling forward, she gently pushed Alyssa’s legs apart. There was a muffled sound in response, but Alyssa’s mouth was filled with Livi’s tongue at the moment, so whatever she meant to say was unclear. In any case, she didn’t resist, leaving her legs open as River trailed kisses up her inner thigh.

Pausing a moment, River admired her new friend’s sex up close. The lips were adorned with dark, curly hair, though it was rather short, and River wondered if Alyssa kept it trimmed. A strong scent of arousal wafted to her nostrils. Alyssa was clearly excited about what was to follow, and River was only too happy to fulfill her expectations.

Leaning forward, she let her tongue slip out for a taste, gently parting Alyssa’s labia to find abundant wetness within. The flavor was at once familiar and subtly different, and River was eager to discover all the uniqueness of her new partner. She pushed her tongue deeper, teasing Alyssa’s entrance for a moment, then trailing upwards.

A loud moan caught River’s attention. Alyssa had broken the kiss and was now staring down at her, open-mouthed. On either side, Kacey and Livi were fondling those awesome tits. River winked up at the girl, then tickled her clit with a flick of the tongue.

Alyssa let out a great cry and her eyes rolled wildly, as dramatic a reaction as River could have wished for.

“Shhh,” Livi said. “I know we said the noise wasn’t a problem, but… maybe not that loud.”

“S-sorry!” Alyssa panted. “God, that feels soooo good.”

“I know, right?” Livi chuckled. “River’s got a very talented mouth.” She favored River with a smile, then began to nibble at Alyssa’s earlobe and nuzzle her neck. Meanwhile, Kacey had her mouth on Alyssa’s breasts, occasionally switching from one to the other.

It had to be quite the sensory overload, but River wasn’t going to give her new lover a moment’s rest. This was Alyssa’s first sexual experience, and it was going to be absolutely mindblowing. River set to pleasuring her partner with a new fervor, exploring each fold of her sex, dipping inside now and then, and of course, frequently returning to her clit. She was intent to show Alyssa all the wonderful sensations that a skillful tongue on her pussy could conjure up.

Alyssa twitched, a whimper escaping her lips. It appeared that she’d gone limp in Livi’s arms, but then she spread her legs even further apart, thrusting her sex against River’s mouth. She’d been hesitant to join in at first, but now Alyssa had fully given herself over to this new experience. River silently rejoiced at the thought—it seemed that their little circle might just get a fourth member.

“Oh! I… I can’t… Shit! I’m… I’m gonna…” Alyssa whispered haltingly.

It was good that Livi had the presence of mind to muffle Alyssa with a kiss just before she came, because by the sound of things, she might have awakened the neighbors with her cries. River was thrilled by the response, and did her best to prolong Alyssa’s ecstasy, stopping only when the girl had quieted down, reduced to a panting, quivering mess.

Sitting up, River exchanged a satisfied smile with Kacey and Livi. “Well, I’d say that was a job well done!”

“Looks like it,” Kacey said. “What do you think, New Girl? Still with us?”

“Oh… oh, my God…” Alyssa breathed. “That was… How did you do that? I’ve never… y’know, it was never so intense for me before.”

River smirked. “I’ve had some practice. And anyway, it’s always better when someone else does it for you.”

“Don’t be modest,” Kacey said, crawling up to River. “You’re damn good at eating pussy… own it.” Turning to Alyssa, she added, “I mean, we all are, to be clear. But River has a pretty great tongue, and speaking of which…” Turning around again, she went straight for the French kiss, meeting River’s “great” tongue with her own.

River was happy to welcome Kacey into her mouth, and they drifted naturally into making out. Never one to waste time, Kacey slipped a hand between River’s legs, pressing a finger to her clit.

River threw her head back and moaned, a sudden jolt of pleasure coursing through every nerve in her body. Damn, she needed this.

“Ready to get off, then?” Kacey said, sporting a wicked grin.

“God, yes! Please.”

With that, Kacey unceremoniously pushed River down on the mattress and nudged her legs open. For a moment, it looked like she intended to dive right in, but then paused, looking as if she was considering something. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Hey, New Girl… you want to do the honors?”

River squirmed a bit, unsure what to make of this. As turned on as she was, she was very much in the mood for Kacey’s aggressive approach, but on the other hand, she was thrilled by the thought of giving  Alyssa her first taste of pussy.

“M-me? Um…” Alyssa pushed herself up, clearly surprised. She met River’s eyes, then glanced down at her sex, on full display between embarrassingly splayed legs. A shy smile appeared on Alyssa’s lips as she resumed eye contact. “I mean, I’d like to make you feel as good as you did me but… um, not sure I’d know how to.”

“Don’t worry, it’s easy,” Kacey said. “Here, I’ll show you.” She patted a spot on the mattress between River’s legs, and a nervous Alyssa crawled up for a better look.

“It’s not rocket science or anything. Like, I don’t need to tell you this is a pussy. You can start by opening her lips, like this.” Demonstrating, Kacey spread River’s labia apart with both hands, revealing her most intimate spot.

It seemed that River was now a demonstration model in some weird sex ed lesson. She’d never felt quite so exposed, but had to admit it was exciting in some strange way. Livi moved up next to her, watching the proceedings with interest as she idly caressed River’s hair.

“Down there is her hole… lots of fun to play with,” Kacey continued. She illustrated the point by shoving her middle finger inside, making River cry out in surprise. “And up here is her little love button. You know what that’s for, right?” She gave River’s clit a few tweaks as she spoke, almost too rough for comfort.

“Aaah! God, Kacey!” River gasped and shuddered, a surge of pleasure nearly overwhelming her.

Kacey smirked at her, then continued Alyssa’s lesson. “So yeah, I’m sure you’ve already got a good idea of what feels nice. It’s mostly just… following your instincts, I guess. There’s no bad way to do it. You just lick all around her pussy, and when she gets loud, you keep doing that.”

Alyssa reached out to River’s sex and gave it a tentative caress, much gentler than Kacey had been. It was a nice contrast. Glancing up at River, Alyssa flashed a quick grin. “You’re so wet!”

“Now you know why they call her ‘River,’ ” Kacey said.

Alyssa snorted in laughter, but River just rolled her eyes. The joke wasn’t as funny after the tenth time you heard it. Kacey needed new material.

Examining the traces of wetness on her fingers, Alyssa tried a cautious lick. River remembered how she’d worried about the taste, too, the first time she went down on Livi. But like River, Alyssa seemed satisfied that it wasn’t at all unpleasant, and she moved closer, her face now inches from River’s pussy.

The caress of warm breath on River’s sensitive flesh was tantalizing, and she felt unable to restrain herself for much longer—especially when Livi joined in and began to caress River’s breasts. She needed to get off, damn it!

The first uncertain lick brushed River’s clit, making her shudder with delight. Alyssa smiled nervously at her reaction, then went back in for a more thorough attempt, slipping her tongue between the lips to better explore River’s sex.

“Like this?” Alyssa asked after a moment.

“Mmm, yeah,” River purred. “Keep going.”

Alyssa bent to her work. She was doing quite well for a beginner, and the fact that it was her first time somehow made things even more exciting. Each swipe of the tongue set River’s nerve endings on fire, and she soon found herself moaning in time with Alyssa’s movements.

Kacey sat next to them, a hand tucked between her legs, observing her pupil with a critical eye. From time to time, she reached out with the other hand to tickle River’s clitoris, even kneeling down at one point to team up with Alyssa in a double-tongued assault, which felt positively divine. But Kacey mostly let Alyssa do the work, though, perhaps because she didn’t want River to come too soon, or she wanted to give the new girl plenty of practice, or she just found it hot to watch. Maybe all the above.

Meanwhile, Livi was teasing River’s nipples, gently pinching them until they were at their stiffest, sending echoing jolts of pleasure down to her pussy. Leaning in, she slipped her tongue into River’s mouth, quickly kindling a passionate French kiss. River had some trouble focusing on Livi’s tongue while Alyssa’s felt so damn good on her sex, but it was a nice “problem” to have.

Gently breaking their kiss, Livi smirked down at River. “How’s she doing?” she asked, nodding towards Alyssa.

“Mmmm, real good. She’s—aah!—a quick learner, for sure.” River’s breath was growing ragged, her pulse hammering as Alyssa’s tongue flicked and swiped, bringing her ever closer to satisfaction. For all her inexperience,  the new girl was having no trouble leading River to a nice, juicy orgasm.

Perhaps thinking along the same line, Kacey suddenly said, “Hey, wanna know the trick to making River come like it’s the fucking Fourth of July?”

“There’s a trick? Sure,” Alyssa said, pausing in mid-lick.

At the same time, River exclaimed, “Kacey! No!” God, so embarrassing. She didn’t need Alyssa to know about that just yet, maybe end up thinking she was some kind of weirdo. Still, she felt her pussy twitch at the very thought of it.

“What?” Kacey said as if she didn’t see the big deal at all.

“Shush, you know you want it,” Livi agreed, before muffling River’s protest with a kiss.

God, they were right. River did want it. She couldn’t even really explain why she enjoyed such a dirty thing, but damn, it turned her on so much.

“See, first you get a finger all nice and wet,” Kacey explained, sticking one of her digits all the way inside River’s vagina, twisting around until it was well lubricated. “Then you move a little lower and…”

River tensed up as she felt Kacey withdraw that finger from her pussy and trace a path downwards, though she did try to relax in anticipation of what was about to come. She whimpered when Kacey gently pushed against her anus, her finger slowly gaining entrance.

She heard Alyssa exclaim, “Holy crap!” but couldn’t see her expression as Livi was in the way. Maybe that was for the best. It seemed slightly less embarrassing if no one was staring at her, though that didn’t stop her cheeks from getting very warm.

All that paled in comparison to the excitement she felt, though. It wasn’t even about the physical sensation. Not just that, at least, though it did feel pretty nice in a weird way. But beyond that, simply being aware that this was something so lewd and obscene, that… well… there was a finger up her ass, was enough to turn her arousal up to eleven.

“Now just lick her clit and you’ll see… she’ll come in five seconds flat,” Kacey was saying.

River shook her head, desperate to prove Kacey wrong. This wasn’t going to get her off that fast, come on. But as soon as Alyssa’s tongue touched her clit, making her asshole clamp snugly around Kacey’s finger, it was like getting hit by blissful lightning, and she knew that there was no stopping the orgasm that was about to crash into her. She wasn’t sure how many seconds had elapsed, but suspected that Kacey’s five-second guess wasn’t far off.

Then she stopped thinking, and embarrassment was the last thing on her mind as she came and came and came. Eyes squeezed shut, her world was reduced to the tongue licking her pussy, the finger penetrating her rectum, and the amazing sensations they gave her.

As if from far away, she heard Kacey laughing. “See? I told you!”

Let her laugh, River thought, feeling way too good to care. As she began to slowly descend from her ecstatic high, she found herself nestled in Livi’s arms.

“Big one?” the girl asked with a knowing smile.

River nodded emphatically, unable to speak.

“Um, should… should I stop now?” Alyssa asked, pausing her licking and giving River an opportunity to catch her breath.

River nodded again, glad for the reprieve. She’d become too sensitive down there for more stimulation. She felt Kacey carefully pull her finger out, which made River twitch with one last jolt of pleasure as it popped free of her ass.

“Wow, you girls are kinky,” Alyssa said as she sat up.

“Don’t look at me,” Livi said. “Nothing goes in my ass.”

“Yeah, I tried once, but it doesn’t do much for me,” Kacey added. “That’s just River being a butt slut.”

River gaped at that, giving her head a shake to clear her foggy brain. “I’m a what? Hey, who dared me to try it in the first place? And who keeps wanting to do it to me?” She felt her cheeks flush.

Kacey shrugged, looking completely unconcerned with her role in the matter.

“It’s okay,” Alyssa said. “Whatever floats your boat, right? It was, um, really hot to watch you come so hard.”

“Yeah?” River said, a little mollified. “Well, that’s thanks to you. You did really great! You sure this was your first time?”

Alyssa laughed. “It was! I really did a good job, then?”

“Mmm-hmm.” River motioned Alyssa closer with a finger, then showed the girl some appreciation with a juicy kiss.

“So… how’d you like your first taste of pussy?” Kacey asked.

The shy smile that appeared on Alyssa’s lips soon grew into a grin. “I, um, I loved it. It felt sooo… I dunno, sexy to feel her like that with my tongue, and see her respond and hear her moan and all that.” She let out a timid chuckle. “Damn, I’m all turned on again.”

River exchanged knowing smiles with Livi and Kacey. “Sounds like you’ll fit in just fine with our little group!”

“And hey, if you like eating pussy that much…” Kacey said, slipping a hand down to her sex and spreading the lips, “I got one right here that could use your help.”

Alyssa snorted. “Still can’t believe this is all happening but… yeah, I’m game!”

As she began crawling towards Kacey, Livi interjected, “Hey, what about me? I need some, too. I got all hot from watching.”

River smiled, wrapping both arms around the girl. “Give me a minute and I’ll take care of you,” she said, feeling her energy—and desire—returning with a vengeance.

“My hero,” Livi said, affecting a mock-swoon.

“I got a better idea,” Kacey said, “since I think we’re all horny again… wanna try our longest daisy chain yet?”

Now there was an inspired notion. The look in Livi’s eyes said she was definitely up for it. River had just come a few minutes earlier but… why not? She definitely felt aroused enough to give it a shot.

Alyssa furrowed her brow. “Daisy chain?”

“Never heard of that?” Kacey said. “See, it’s simple. You eat me, and… let’s see. Livi eats you, River eats Livi, and I get River and close the loop,” she explained, pointing at each of them in turn.

“Holy crap,” Alyssa said, her eyebrows rising up as she contemplated the notion. “For real? You’ve done that before?”

“Yeah, few times. Bet it’s even more fun with four links in the chain, though!”

Alyssa considered that for a moment, then flashed a mischievous grin. “Okay, I’m in!”

“All right! Get over here, then,” Kacey said as she lay down and spread her legs wide.

Alyssa got into position between Kacey’s legs, then turned her body towards Livi. “This way?”

“Oh, yeah,” Livi murmured as she drew closer to the black girl’s gorgeous pussy. “That works.”

Livi took her place, roughly parallel to Kacey, then River maneuvered into the last spot, completing the wonky square shape. She laid her head on Livi’s thigh and pushed the other leg upward, opening her friend’s pussy. Seeing it up close and breathing in the strong scent of arousal made her own sex twitch in anticipation.

“Well, let’s do this, then,” Kacey said, and with that, she immediately dove in, clutching two handfuls of River’s ass and lapping at her pussy with great vigor.

River moaned, pure pleasure rushing through her body. The only problem with daisy chains was that it could be hard to focus on your task when you were feeling so good. It was tempting to just lie there a moment, enjoying Kacey’s attentions, but she forced herself to lean forward and slip her tongue between Livi’s pussy lips, letting it roam from her hole to her clit.

Soon, the room was filled with muffled moans, and it sounded like everyone was having a great time. From time to time, River let her fingers take over for her tongue so that she could crane her neck and catch a glimpse of Livi licking Alyssa licking Kacey. They looked hot and sexy as hell, fueling her excitement.

She gasped when she felt Kacey reach between her ass cheeks, pressing against her anus. Her friend stopped short of penetration this time, simply caressing her rosebud, which still felt really nice, especially along with the wonderful things Kacey was doing with her tongue. River was beginning to wonder if Kacey wasn’t more into butt stuff than she claimed to be.

Meanwhile, River was doing her best to pleasure Livi. When she began to circle the girl’s clit with her tongue, Livi reached out to hold River’s head in place. The message was pretty clear. Focusing her attention on the little bud, River flicked it repeatedly with her tongue, accelerating the rhythm as Livi’s moans grew  urgent.

Kacey’s cries were also getting more intense. Not so much in volume, muffled as they were by a faceful of pussy, but River could feel the vibrations reverberate through her sex. It felt strange, yet stimulating.

Suddenly, Livi’s thighs clamped around River’s head, her body going rigid. River knew what that meant. At the same moment, Kacey’s tongue slowed, then paused, her breath hot and harsh against River’s pussy. Were her friends both coming? Livi and Kacey really were weirdly in sync at times. Maybe they had got off at the same time during their challenge.

Whatever the reason, Kacey was no longer licking her. River was a little frustrated by the abrupt interruption of her pleasure, but at least it allowed her to concentrate on giving Livi the most powerful orgasm she could. She used her tongue for all she was worth, making Livi quiver and shake until she finally pushed River’s head away.

Now free to move, River took a look around and saw that both Livi and Kacey were panting hard, slowly catching their breaths after their climax. Alyssa looked rather pleased with herself, no doubt happy with her newfound skill at making girls come.

Positioned as Kacey was, her lips were lightly grazing River’s pussy, making her ache for attention. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she tapped Kacey’s forehead with a finger. “Hey, doofus… finish the job!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kacey mumbled. “Mm. You were right, New Girl’s pretty good…”

A moan from Alyssa indicated that Livi had been quicker to resume her task. River had a good view of her friend giving Alyssa’s pussy great big licks, a lovely sight that made her a little envious. Thankfully, Kacey didn’t let her languish for too long. Soon, the girl’s tongue was back where it belonged, parting River’s labia and giving her a thorough probing.

“Mmmm, yeah,” River murmured, tangling her fingers into her friend’s short hair as she reveled in the blissful feelings Kacey was giving her. Damn, the girl sure was no slouch when it came to eating pussy.

Keeping an eye on Livi and Alyssa, River found it very erotic to watch them going at it, amplifying her own excitement. Alyssa looked so sexy, one hand coming up to caress her boobs, letting out little mewling cries, doing her best to be as quiet as she could but not quite succeeding.

Their eyes met, and Alyssa flashed a bashful smile, maybe still feeling a little shy about everything. That didn’t stop her from ogling River and Kacey, though. Her lustful gaze roamed over the scene, not missing any detail.

River grinned back. There was something thrilling about being observed during sex, she’d discovered. Maybe Alyssa was feeling it, too. The girl bit her lip as they leered at each other, her breath quickening, sweat pearling on her dark skin, eyes glazing over with ecstasy. She looked radiant. Not to take anything away from Kacey or Livi, but Alyssa might just be the hottest girl in their little group, River decided.

And then Alyssa squeezed her eyes shut, clamping a hand over her mouth just in time to muffle a long wordless cry. Her back arched up from the mattress, her body trembling in the throes of an intense-looking orgasm.

That was enough to set River off. Kacey’s amazing oral skills had been steadily bringing her closer to the edge, and the sight of Alyssa coming pushed her right off. Pure bliss radiated outward from her sex, and Kacey knew just what to do to keep it going. River shook her head from side to side, jaw firmly clenched to keep her moans in. God, that was a big one.

Finally, her pleasure slowly began to fade, and she squirmed away from Kacey’s mouth, managing to catch a much-needed lungful of air. She lay motionless for a while, waiting for her brain to function properly again.

When River opened her eyes, she found Kacey sitting next to her, flashing a self-satisfied smirk. River couldn’t fault her. She motioned weakly and the girl leaned over for a kiss. Between them, they shared the flavor of River’s pussy, a sexy and very intimate part of lovemaking that River had always enjoyed.

Glancing over at the others, she saw that Alyssa was cradled in Livi’s arms, looking a little dazed. She crawled over to where they lay, Kacey close behind. They all rested there in a heap, slowly recovering.

After a while, Alyssa suddenly burst out laughing, and the rest of them turned to her, confused.

“I guess I know why you all were acting so weird before. You were afraid you wouldn’t get to… well, do all this if I was around, huh?”

“Well… yeah,” River sheepishly admitted. “See, it was nothing against you. We just had, um, a different kind of fun planned.”

“But I’d say it all worked out in the end,” Livi said.

“For sure! I didn’t think it would go this well!” River said. “So… should we invite you next time?”

Alyssa grinned. “Oh, no way I’m missing more of this!”

“Hell yeah,” Kacey said, high-fiving their new friend. “Welcome to the club, Alyssa.”

“Oh, did I get promoted from ‘New Girl’?”

“Eh, we’ll see. I guess we did get to know each other pretty intimately there. Not a bad initiation!”

They laughed, then Alyssa said, “Okay, are we gonna get some sleep now, though, or…? Gotta admit, I’m exhausted.”

“Sure, we can sleep,” River said, chuckling.

“Does that mean that Kacey won’t start things up again in the middle of the night?” Livi asked.

Kacey raised an eyebrow. “No promises.”

Giggling, they turned off the lights and snuggled up on the mattresses. No need to get into their sleeping bags, they were already warm enough like this.

Before closing her eyes, River reached out to take Alyssa’s hand and gave it a squeeze. She could barely see the girl smiling back in the darkness. They’d ran into each other by complete coincidence that afternoon, and now they’d had some pretty wild sex, but somehow River was certain that they would become even closer in the months to come.

The End

Introduction by JetBoy: Those of you who have been long-term denizens of the Juicy Secrets community will probably recall a wonderful yet tragically incomplete story entitled “Pages From a Diary.” It ran for seventeen chapters, then the author vanished from our radar in early 2019. Since then, it’s become one of the most longed-for of our unfinished works.

Fast-forward to August of this year, when we received a heartfelt apology from Ms. Yukey. Personal reasons had obliged her to abandon “Pages” in midstream, and she was still conflicted about taking it on again… but lo and behold, she did have something else for us: a brand new novel-length story. She gave us the first two chapters, and Amanda and I immediately concurred that yes, this little saga looked to be a serious contender. We accepted, I applied a hint of editing here and there… and now, we officially launch the opening of Rachael Yukey’s new 23-chapter novella.

Rachael told us up front: This is a mystery novel that prominently features Ff lesbian erotica, NOT erotica first and foremost. There’s lots of sex in it, much more than you’ll find in any ordinary novel, but the sex is not necessarily the primary focus of the plot. So if a straight-up stroke story is what you’re after, go read something else. If you dare dump on Rachel’s story because “there’s not enough sex,” I will hunt you down and administer a wedgie that will leave your eyes permanently crossed.

I should also add that there is a smidgen of hetero activity in the story as well, nearly all of it early on. Fear not: the vast majority of the sex is lesbian.

Finally, an additional bit of good news. I kept dropping hints to Rachael (with all the subtlety of a flung shovel) that it would be a Very Fine Thing if she’d at least consider picking up the thread of “Pages From a Diary,” once more. Maybe just read the thing once again, I suggested, see if you get inspired? Well, out of the blue, Rachael informed me that not only had she delved back into the story, she’d penned two new chapters! Since then, I’ve received another four installments, so “Pages,” is up and running, people! By mutual agreement, though, we’ll be holding off on making those public until “Strange Brew,” has run its course. And with that, let me cease my endless rambling and let you get to the story. Please enjoy.

 

By Rachael Yukey

“3520, Franklin – we’re pulling up on scene.”

“Copy that, 3520, your time is 06:21.”

Before the county dispatcher had completed his sentence, I was dropping the mic onto the magnetic clip. My partner eased the ambulance around the front of the ladder truck that was blocking both lanes of country blacktop, killing the siren but leaving the lights flashing. I timestamped our arrival on my laptop, flipped it closed, and was already pushing the passenger-side door open as the rig came to a halt just abreast of the two ruined cars in the ditch. Between the fog and the morning dusk of early spring, I couldn’t see a whole hell of a lot.

I’m Antoinette Hastings, by the way. I’m a paramedic with Thormleton Ambulance, a privately owned small-city Advanced Life Support service in the upper midwest. My partner Justin and I had just hauled ass twenty miles through the fog and over bad roads in response to a collision.

Entering the back of the rig through the side door, I tossed the laptop onto the bench seat and tugged the first-in bag from its compartment. Justin popped the rear doors and pulled the cot out.

“Just leave it on the shoulder for now,” I told him as I hastily cranked the heat in the back all the way up. The patients still trapped in the vehicles had to be getting pretty damn cold by now.

As I exited the rig, a second ambulance pulled in behind us. Peering into the ditch, I could see a little better now. A blue Toyota Camry was on its side, with no activity surrounding it. Firefighters were working around a white Chevy crossover that looked like it had struck something head-on, then rolled a couple of times. One of the firefighters was wielding the jaws of life, working at cutting away the roof support beams. Another small group of rescue personnel were about twenty yards into a freshly plowed field, clustered around something I couldn’t quite make out.

I took a step towards the ditch, only to be brought up short by a hand on my elbow. I turned to face a short but sturdy blonde woman in the brown uniform of a Franklin County Sheriff’s deputy.

“Down here, Nettie,” said Cindy Koep, guiding me away from the cars and towards the cluster of bodies in the field. “The guy from the Toyota’s already out and sitting in the back of my squad to keep warm. I don’t think he’s hurt. The driver of the Chevy is trapped inside. She’s obviously intoxicated, but she’s talking to us, at least. Her passenger was unrestrained, and got ejected. Eleven-year-old girl. She’s hurt pretty bad.”

“Did you call flight?”

“Flight was a no-go for weather.”

“Shit. Do we know who it is?”

“You probably know the driver. Lisa Milne? She lives in your town. Her daughter is the one that got ejected. Chelsey, that’s her name.”

My pulse quickened. Little Chelsey. Dammit.

The little circle of humanity parted as we approached, revealing the half-grown body sprawled across the rough ground. The girl tried to lift her head to look up at us, but gentle hands restrained her.

I dropped to my knees beside her, my partner Justin coming around to the other side. I sized up the situation at a glance. The left forearm was deformed; a clear and obvious fracture. The jeans looked suspiciously tight over her left thigh. Blood oozed from scrapes on her exposed hands, and from a laceration to the right side of her head. She was shivering violently with cold, moaning with almost every breath. All the firefighters had done was place a cervical collar around her neck, but they had a backboard ready to go.

Justin pulled his trauma shears from his trousers, clearly intending to begin cutting clothing. I held up my hand. “Uh-uh,” I said. “We need to get her out of the cold first. Justin, you stabilize c-spine. One of you other guys, grab a dressing out of my bag and hold pressure on that head injury. The rest of you pick her up and put her on that backboard, and let’s move.”

With Justin holding the girl’s head still and counting off the moves, they gently lifted her onto the backboard. Chelsey screamed as they picked her up.

I gripped her hand. “Listen to me, sweetheart,” I said, as the group of men lifted the board on Justin’s count and hastened across the field. “I know it hurts, but we have to get you out of the cold. We’ll get you something for pain once we’re in the ambulance. Don’t try to talk right now, just rest.”

I had no idea if the child was coherent enough to comprehend any of this; I just had to hope for the best. I did a half-assed trauma assessment as we walked, checking pulses at the wrists and ankles, listening to her lungs, and getting the best look I could at the injuries. As we passed the cars, I noted that Lisa Milne had been extricated from her vehicle, and was being loaded into the other ambulance. I hope it hurts, you stupid meth-addled bitch.

As they set the backboard on the cot, I addressed the firefighters. “I need my partner in the back,” I said, “so I’m gonna need one of you guys to drive. Take us to Pinewood, and don’t spare the diesel fuel. Once we’re rolling, radio the hospital and give them a heads-up that we’re activating a trauma code.”

I entered through the side door of the rig as the firefighters shoved the cot in from the rear. Justin came in behind it, the men outside slamming the doors closed.

“Wrap a pressure dressing around that head injury, then start cutting her clothes off,” I instructed him. I yanked my trauma shears out and cut a slit up the right arm of Chelsey’s jacket, rapidly exposing the uninjured arm. The front door of the rig slammed, the siren wailed, and we lurched forward, almost knocking me from my perch on the bench. Goddamn firefighters. 

Twisting my body around, I waved my badge in front of the scanner on the narcotics safe mounted above the bench seat. The lock opened with an audible click, and I extracted the narc box. Selecting a vial, I drew up half of it into a syringe, and turned back to the little girl on the cot..

Justin was cutting the rest of the jacket and shirt off with quick, efficient movements, flipping the material over so it hung from beneath the little girl’s body like the flayed skin of a dead animal. I cleaned the upper right arm with an alcohol prep, then uncapped the safety needle.

Justin looked at me with raised eyebrows. “No IV?”

“Oh, I’ll get one,” I said, “but I want to get some pain meds on board before I traction that leg, and this way is faster.”

I turned my eyes to Chelsey. She was staring at me with glazed eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I’m going to give you something for the pain, Chelsey,” I told her. “There’ll be a quick sting on your arm, but then you’ll feel better.”

The little girl just sobbed, and it dawned on me that she had yet to utter a single word. I got a firm grip on her arm, then plunged the needle in. She tried to flinch away, but I held on tight and pushed the plunger home.

Justin had just finished cutting off the right leg of the jeans, and was now cutting a slit up the left. Chelsey screamed and tried to jerk her leg away.

“Chelsey, listen to me,” I said urgently. “I need you to be as still as you can, even if what we do hurts. That pain medicine should start working soon. Do you understand?” I gazed straight into her eyes as I said it, and she gave a small nod. Tears stood on her cheeks.

Justin completed his cut, and I examined the swollen thigh more closely. It did nothing to improve my disposition. There was almost certainly a femur fracture under there. I looked up, and Justin was staring at me, waiting for instructions. I sighed inwardly. Justin is a decent technical EMT, but he’d be a catastrophe as a paramedic. He’s utterly incapable of taking the initiative.

“Get me a full set of vitals,” I told him, trying to keep an impatient edge out of my voice. “Then put a SAM splint on that arm. Make sure you check radial pulses both before and after you do it, please.”

Sliding across the bench seat towards the front of the rig, I flipped up the cushion where my ass had just been parked. The traction splint was stored in the compartment beneath it. I closed the compartment, slid back down the bench, and slipped the splint under Chelsey’s leg. She shrieked again, but somehow managed to keep still.

Chelsey moaned as I began to apply traction, but it was nothing like the noise she’d been making earlier. Good; the pain meds were working their magic. She was a slender girl, of normal height for her age, and I applied traction based on what I hoped was a reasonably good estimate of her body weight. I checked to make sure she still had a pulse in her left ankle, then mopped the sweat from my forehead with a hand towel. Justin pushed a button on the monitor, and the blood pressure cuff he’d placed on the right arm began to inflate. I noticed that Chelsey was still wearing panties.

I caught Justin’s eye. “Cut her underwear off, too. With this kind of major trauma you really do need to inspect every square centimeter of her body. Just throw a blanket over her once you make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

Justin hastened to comply as I wrapped a rubber tourniquet around the unbroken right arm, and started poking around for an IV site. I glanced over as the girl’s pubic area came into view. The clinical part of my mind was dominant at the moment, taking note of a merciful lack of injuries, aside from a contusion on the left hip that had been concealed by Chelsey’s panties. But another, less disciplined part of my brain took note of the barely-visible dusting of prepubescent hair, and the sweet puffiness of the outer lips.

I brutally shoved the thought aside. What the fuck is wrong with you?

The ambulance leaned heavily into a curve. Justin, who was standing at the moment, was hurled against the wall.

“Watch those curves!” I shouted to whoever the hell was driving. “I’m about to start a line; I need a little stability back here.”

Luckily, Chelsey had terrific veins. “There’s gonna be another poke in your arm, honey,” I informed her. “I need you to hold still. On three. One… two… three.”

Chelsey took it like a trooper, not even flinching as I slid the needle in. I advanced the catheter, flushed it in, and secured it to her arm. “Okay, Chelsey,” I said. “How’s that pain right now?” If she didn’t start speaking soon, I was going to get a lot more worried.

“G-getting worse again,” she got out in a weak, raspy voice.

“Okay, I’m going to give you some more pain medicine,” I said. “It’s called Fentanyl, and it’ll make you feel a lot better.”

“Isn’t that the stuff that kills people?” she croaked.

I tried for a reassuring smile. “Fentanyl is a really scary street drug, honey,” I informed her as I attached my syringe to her line and began slowly pushing the drug, “but the amounts I’m giving you are very safe. It’ll help with the pain, but that’s all. Okay?”

She gave me a little smile, and my heart melted. “Okay,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “Your n-name is Nettie, isn’t it?”

“It sure is,” I said, detaching my syringe from the line. I glanced up at the monitor, which had just finished taking a second blood pressure. It was lower than the first, enough so to make me a bit nervous. She hadn’t lost all that much blood from the head wound, so that meant there had to be some internal hemorrhaging going on. I briefly debated my options, decided they were all bad, and resolved to simply keep an eye on it until we got to the hospital. The rig was slowing, and I glanced out the side window. Were we already pulling into Johnstown?

“I need to call in a report to the hospital,” I told Justin. “See if you can get a second line. You’ll have to put it in the same arm; we can’t use the broken one.” Justin nodded and began rummaging in the IV kit.

“Nettie?” Chelsey was tugging on my sleeve with her good arm.

“What is it, honey?”

“I didn’t have my seat belt on. It was really stupid, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t worry about that now.”

“I only took it off for a minute. Mom asked me to reach in the back seat and get her a pack of cigarettes.”

Jesus Christ, this just gets better and better.

“Nettie, am I going to be okay?” Her voice trailed off into a sob.

“They’ll take good care of you at the hospital,” I said. “We’re almost there. Try to rest… I have to call ahead and tell them what’s going on.”

“Nettie– can you hold my hand while you do that?”

I gripped the child’s hand, taking care to avoid the cuts and scrapes along the back of it. Reaching up to the mounted radio with the other, I switched channels and called the hospital.

***

That evening I lay sprawled on the couch, wearing nothing but a bathrobe I hadn’t bothered to tie shut, with the stereo cranked as loud as apartment living will allow. Mine is the generation of tiny earbuds, crappy desktop speakers, and streaming in compressed formats, but fuck that. I know high-end audio is mostly a male hobby, but it’s hardly the only quirk that separates me from other women. My audio system takes up an entire wall of my living room, and is worth more than my car.

And I hate bubblegum pop. Hate, hate, hate it. I’m a metalhead through and through. The soundtrack for this particular evening was provided by Iron Maiden. “Run to the Hills!” screamed Bruce Dickinson. Good plan, I thought, wondering for the millionth time what kept me tethered to this little slice of nowhere. Bronning is a dying agricultural town, with a population of 963 if one includes dogs, cats, chickens, and goats. Over 50% of the population is above the age of forty-five, and with the county using these little outlying towns as a sort of rural section eight, a depressingly large percentage of the under-forty population is on meth.

But, you know– it’s home. I grew up here, and small-town inertia keeps me hanging on somehow. I could move the thirty miles to Johnstown and live where I work instead of commuting forty minutes one way, or simply ditch Franklin County altogether. There’s a national shortage of medics; I could walk into a job at a nice, big, vibrant city and just start over. Yet here I sit.

I haven’t really described myself. I’m twenty-six, slender, and quite tall for a woman, coming in at just over six feet. I have black hair that I wear long– almost down to my ass– and I wear glasses with orange plastic frames. I like orange; I feel like it does a certain thing with the deep black of my hair.

I’ve been in EMS for my entire adult life. I took an EMT course while still in high school, and celebrated my eighteenth birthday by taking and passing the national registry test. I joined my hometown volunteer ambulance squad the next day. Four months later, I got a job at Thormleton ambulance in Johnstown, and started paramedic school. A year after graduating, I got my critical care certification, thinking I might like to become a flight medic. But I never did, because that would have required me to move. Like I said, something I can’t define keeps me hanging onto home.

The record I was listening to ended, and I got up to put on another. Blind Guardian this time. Before settling back onto the couch, I poured myself a glass of bourbon.

I know damn well I drink too much. I’ve been trying to cut back, but it’s tough. I don’t need a shrink to tell me that I’m dealing with emotional trauma stemming from life with a domineering bitch of a mother, and spending weekends with a distant, disinterested father. My job doesn’t always help. Badly injured children aren’t something one deals with every day, but when it does happen you can take it to the bank that little Nettie is going to polish off the day with a nightcap. Or two. Or six.

“Imaginations from the other side,” Hansi Kursch bellowed through my speakers. Where the fuck do I find the other side? I wondered. I sipped at my bourbon, willing myself to refrain from tossing it back and immediately going for another. Images of that poor, damaged child filled my head, along with an incandescent rage at the mother who had caused her suffering. I tried to block out the images of the injuries, focusing my mind instead on her sweet, cherubic, slightly freckled face.

But that wasn’t so easy, either. I have a problem, you see, one much bigger than childhood emotional trauma, or the stresses of emergency service. I’m bisexual, but that’s not the problem. The problem is that I’m excited most of all by females who are, shall we say, a wee bit on the young side. Or a large bit. Okay, fine– I get hot thinking about girls on the cusp of, or just barely into, puberty. I’ve never acted on my desires, and with discipline I can often avoid even thinking about them, but in moments of weakness my fantasies are dominated by images of myself naked and in bed with sweet young girls, performing deliciously salacious acts. Like I said, it’s a problem.

The bourbon was starting to mellow me, and images of Chelsey Milne’s sweet face and dirty blonde hair were kindling the first stirrings of excitement in my loins. And then, all unbidden, the image of her lovely, exposed vulva popped into my head. I closed my eyes, and my imagination did indeed begin to take me to the other side. I envisioned my fingers stroking the wispy down coating her smooth, still-childlike lips, imagined the softness of her skin; the moisture of excitement coating my fingertips. My own excitement was building, and I knew from long experience that if I reached down to touch my womanly center, I would find plenty of wetness there.

Stop it, damn you. By then I was thoroughly aroused. Masturbation was, at this point, inevitable. But dammit, the time had come to pick a different fantasy. Under these circumstances, I avoid concentrating on women. If I start thinking about pussy, my thoughts will inevitably turn to the sexes of underage girls, bald or with the lightest coating of down. So when my incipient pedophilia begins to manifest itself, I deliberately and forcefully turn my fantasies to men.

As I slid a hand down my belly and through the soft curls covering my pubis, I conjured images of a lean, youthful male face framed by shoulder-length chestnut hair. As I teased my slit and the first wave of pleasure engulfed me, I envisaged another hand– a small hand, attached to a willowy child’s arm, with a young girl’s face inches from mine. “Bright Eyes, burning like fire,” the recorded voice was crooning, as Chelsey Milne’s bright eyes burned holes in me through the window of my imagination. Goddamn it.

I tried again, but this time I was too distracted, too at war with myself for my fingers to conjure any response. My body was aching for release in every nerve ending, but at this rate I could go for hours and not get anywhere within shouting distance of a climax.

It was time for desperation tactics. I put down my whiskey and called the man with the lean face and the shoulder-length chestnut hair. Ninety minutes later, I was drifting off in Terrance Wilder’s bed.

Terry showed up out of nowhere four years ago, and soon came to refer to himself as the Conquistador of Jenkins Manor. The Jenkins practically founded the shining metropolis of Bronning (population 963 at the last Minnesota state census) with their bare hands, and the palatial home they built for the original patriarch has been in their family since the 1880s. If the old-timers are to be believed, children have been known to get lost in the cavernous old house trying to find their bedrooms.

The sale of the place came as a bit of a shock to the drugstore gossips, but to have a successful author with money to burn take possession was an even bigger surprise. People like that have been known to move to the country, but they’ll normally pick a nice resort town with good fishing and some summer nightlife. He didn’t even have family in the area, so far as anyone could determine. Nobody could quite figure out what he was doing in Bronning. I’ve been sleeping with him off and on for over three years, and I still can’t.

Folks liked him, though. Terry has a way with people, and it didn’t hurt that he immediately immersed himself in community service. He and his kids put in time at the food shelf once a week, could always be counted on for participation (to say nothing of a generous donation) at fundraisers, and around the end of his first year in town, he joined the ambulance squad.

You see, Bronning has an all-volunteer ambulance service. I’m the only paramedic on the squad, so most of the time a crew is made up of two EMTs. That’s what we call a Basic Life Support crew, or BLS for short. The paramedic level of care is Advanced Life Support, or ALS. The Bronning service is licensed and equipped for ALS, but most of the time there isn’t an ALS provider to give it. In short, it’s an ALS service if I’m there.

It’s really tough to keep a two-person volunteer crew on call 24/7 in a dying little town like Bronning. There’s never enough EMTs, and scheduling is a nightmare. Terry, after living in town for a year, learned how desperately short of personnel we were and signed up for a course. I met him when he was preparing for his skills testout. Since I’m the highest-level provider on the squad, I’m also the training officer, and I helped him practice for his skill stations. He was attractive, flirtatious, and fun, and he impressed the hell out of me with the energy he brought to what was, for him, strictly volunteer work. We got together at the station to practice his skills, and ended up in his bed that same night.

Since then we’ve had a tumultuous on and off relationship. We’ve been an official couple a few times, but never can seem to make it last very long. Part of it is that we’re so damn alike in some ways, but different in ways that get on each other’s nerves. Part of it is me; I may be bisexual, but I’m just that little bit more oriented towards women. Part of it is that regular exposure to his two oldest daughters, aged ten and twelve, brings out that wicked part of me that I fight so hard to suppress.

But, for all that, no matter what our relationship status, we always manage to remain friends, as well as occasional fuck-buddies. And on those nights when I need some dick to get my mind off of my craving for underage girls, Terry is always the first person I call. I still don’t understand what he’s doing in Bronning, or how he makes his living; I do know that he doesn’t work a regular job. He’s become a mainstay of the ambulance squad, doing over three hundred hours a month of on-call time. He’ll never be a paramedic, but he’s matured into an outstanding EMT.

None of that mattered to me that night as much as his ability to get a girl off. He excels at that, and two orgasms later I was physically sated, drifting towards sleep. But my mind wouldn’t quite shut down, and I fell into unconsciousness haunted by the image of Chelsey Milne’s girlish pussy lips.

I woke up from a nightmare. I won’t go into it… I can’t. Let’s just say that this particular nightmare and I are old companions, and it’s linked to a memory that’s too painful to bear. But it’s been almost a year since I’ve had this dream, and I’d thought I was putting it behind me. Yet there it was, back again, and I woke with a start, barely managing to choke back a scream.

I looked around wildly, and in the dim moonlight through the window a shape coalesced. I started to recoil, then my eyes came into focus. Terry lay on his side, propped up on an elbow and looking down at me. His shoulder-length chestnut hair hung carelessly to one side.

“Jesus,” I murmured, letting my head fall back to the pillow. “How long was I out?”

He caressed my cheek. “Not very long… maybe half an hour. Bad dream?”

I looked away. “No– why? Did I say anything?”

Terry’s expression turned thoughtful. “You said– I think it was that you’re going to clean my garage tomorrow. And you’ll do it naked.” Then he grinned. “Naw, just a little shifting and mumbling. It only lasted a few seconds before you woke up.”

“Must be the cocaine messing up my sleep,” I murmured, rubbing my eyes.

Terry snorted derisively. “As if you could score decent coke out here in the land that time forgot. Be honest… you’re on meth.”

I smiled, but it dwindled into a deep sigh. “You might be surprised. There’s a fresh batch of heroin floating around Johnstown.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’ve been three calls for heroin OD in the past five days; Shannon at work transported one this afternoon. If it goes the way it usually does, we’ll be busy with it for two or three weeks, and then we’ll get another week or so of withdrawal symptoms. Some of it might trickle out this way… it’s hard to say.”

Terry pursed his lips. “You ought to give the squad a refresher on opioid overdose,” he observed.

I rolled my eyes. “What for? If you’re running BLS, the only tool you have is nasal Narcan. If you’re running ALS, it means I’m there and it’s my problem anyway.”

“Sure, but it wouldn’t hurt to remind people what they ought to be looking for. Stacy, for instance — I had to stop the dumb twit from giving the nose spice to a guy with dilated pupils last week.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Jesus. Was that the meth overdose over at Hillcrest?”

“That, my dear, is in fact the incident in question.”

“Do you call her a dumb twit in bed?” I asked with a sweet little smile.

Terry lay his head back against the pillow, closed his eyes, then snickered. “Come on, Nettie– are you accusing me of compromising a married woman?”

I laid a hand on his arm. “You do get that the whole ambulance squad knows about it, right? You’re just lucky nobody likes her husband.”

Terry shrugged. “I should have guessed. Whatever. Being fun to touch doesn’t make her any less of a twit.”

“So what do you say about me when you’re in bed with her?” I tried to keep my tone serious, and failed.

“That you’re the best piece of ass in the Great Northern Pine Forest, of course. I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

I slapped him playfully.

Terry laced both hands behind his head. “You missed one hell of a day here in town.”

I nodded. “I imagine there’s a lot of concern about Chelsey and Lisa Milne.”

“Well, about Chelsey, anyway. The fact that she’s in ICU and her fat-ass drug addict mother only sustained minor injuries is eloquent proof that there’s no justice in the world. That being said, the rumor mill has it that you’re the medic who hauled Chelsey in. True story?”

“You know damn well it is,” I said tartly.

Terry grinned that rakish, go-to-hell grin that I found by turns so endearing and annoying. “Guess I do. Think she’s going to make it?”

“Probably. There was some hemodynamic instability that I think was secondary to an internal bleed somewhere, but since she’s still alive I have to think they’ve got a handle on it by now. But it’ll be a long road to a full recovery. And not to change the subject, but what was the scoop with that train wreck here in the service area last night? I heard them page out a mutual aid from Melville. Could we seriously not get a crew for the second truck?”

Terry snorted. “We couldn’t even get half a crew for it. The on-call crew took the A rig out, but not a single person was available to take the B rig. If we could’ve just got one EMT, they could have had a first responder drive.”

“So why didn’t you go? Were you not in town?”

“Bad luck,” he replied. “Halee and Naomi were at a slumber party last night, and I can hardly leave Dawn and Maya home alone while I run out on a call.”

I nodded. At ages eight and six respectively, Terry’s two youngest daughters weren’t old enough to be home by themselves.

“You know,” I told him, “if you called my mom in a situation like that, she’d drop what she was doing to run over and watch your kids for you. She’s two blocks away.”

“At four AM?”

“You don’t know my mom very well.”

“That’s because she hates me.”

“So stop having sex with her daughter, you perv.”

We both laughed. I snuggled up close, and he put his arm around me. I must have been more exhausted than I realized, because that’s the last thing I remember before I awoke in his bed the next morning.

On to Chapter Two!

 

“Here, in this room, we stand naked before Almighty God.”

by Jacqueline Jillinghoff

Original illustration by Bruno Traven

If you asked Sister Lucretia, she’d say it was my own doing. It was my wickedness that brought God’s wrath down on my ass. She was only His instrument, His avenging angel. I deserved every painful smack she inflicted on my bare behind.

I tried to be a good girl. I only touched myself once. It happened in the morning, when I woke up with a hand down my pajamas. I was warm and slick down there, and it felt so good I couldn’t make myself stop. But as soon as the pleasure had peaked, I knew I’d done something wrong. I wasn’t sure just what, and I was too embarrassed to bring it up in confession, but it had to do with sex, so it must be bad. I promised myself I’d never do it again.

I kept thinking about it, though, and that was a sin, too. Jesus said if you even look at somebody with lust, you’ve committed adultery in your heart, though nobody ever bothered to explain to us what adultery was. Sister said it was possible to sin in thought and word as well as deed. Well, I’d sinned in deed, and I was probably sinning in thought, but at least I kept my mouth shut. When the boys in the schoolyard told dirty jokes or ragged each other about “jerking off,” or the girls gossiped about some other girl they called a slut, I did what Sister told us to do when someone “makes the Blessed Mother weep in their speech.” I walked away.

Then, in spite of everything, I sinned in deed again. It was the first really nice spring day we’d had since Easter, and the change in the air gave me the fidgets. My panties felt damp and tight. After lunch, when I went into the girls’ room to pee, I took them all the way off — pulling them over my clunky saddle shoes — and stuffed them in the pocket of my uniform. It wasn’t a sin, I told myself, if nobody saw you. It was my body, after all. I was keeping it hidden, and anyway, Jesus never said you had to wear panties.

Outside in the schoolyard, the breeze blew up my skirt and gave me goose pimples on my butt and my thighs. I liked the way it felt, and even more, I liked having a secret none of the other kids knew about.

Once we got back inside, it was hard to concentrate. I kept thinking about my secret, and how it might be fun to, like, lift my skirt up in front of a car on the walk home. Okay, that would be a sin. I spent all afternoon trying not to think about things like that. It felt warm between my legs, the way it had in bed that morning a week before, and I spread my knees a little to let the air in to cool off. I was lucky Sister Lucretia never called on me, because I wouldn’t have known the answer. I probably wouldn’t even have heard her. I hardly knew where I was.

The three o’clock buzzer finally went off. I actually sighed with relief, snapping my legs shut and sitting up straighter. I thought, on the way home, I’ll sneak behind some bushes and put my panties back on, and that’ll be that, but just before the kid came on the intercom to announce the dismissal lines, Sister Lucretia looked at me over her desk — I was sitting right in front of her — and said, “Miss Beaver, would you stay after class for a moment? I’d like to speak with you.”

“Yes, Sister,” I said. It’s what you always said when a nun asked you anything. I couldn’t guess what she wanted, but I never suspected it had anything to do with my being out of uniform. She didn’t sound mad, though with nuns, you could never tell.

I sat with my hands folded on the edge of my desk while the kid called out the buses and street lines over the PA.

“Allen Street,” he said, and some of the other kids in my class lined up and went out.

“Benchley,” he said, and another group left.

“Parker” — that was my line, and I missed it.

Sister never moved from her desk. She never looked at me. It was almost a half hour before we were alone, and she ignored me for another five minutes or more while she marked her grade book. It’s not a good sign when they keep you waiting.

Finally she said, without looking up, “Miss Beaver, come over here, please.”

Suddenly my legs felt weak. I got up and went around behind her desk. She turned in her seat and faced me with her whole body. Her habit was white linen, with brown panels down the front and back, draped over her shoulders, and tied at the waist with a white rope. The tips of her black shoes peeped at me from under the long skirt. She had on a brown veil, and her white wimple was wrapped tight around her face like a bandage. A crucifix sat on her bosom. It was dark wood, with a silver Jesus on it, and it hung from her neck on a brown string. She had taken a vow of poverty, she told us once. A chain would be a vanity.

“Lift your skirt up,” she said.

I just stood there.

“Do you not understand English? Take hold of your skirt and lift it up.”

I pulled the pleats an inch above my knees.

“All the way up.”

“What for, Sister?”

“Because I’m telling you to.”

She knew, and there was nothing I could do. She would have sat there and stared me down all night. I pulled my skirt higher, slowly, steadily, and her eyes trailed up my legs until I felt them on my brown puff of hair. Then I dropped the skirt, fast.

“I thought so,” Sister said. “Do you think I’m blind? That I can’t see you when you sit there with your legs wide open? I’ve seen a lot of whorish things from the girls in my class, but you, miss, take the cake. Where is your undergarment?”

“Im muh puh,” I mumbled.

“Where?”

“In my pocket,” I said.

“In my pocket, what?”

“In my pocket, Sister.”

“Let me see it.”

I took it out and held it low at my side, balled up in my fist. Sister yanked it out of my hand.

“I’ll keep this, since you have no interest in it,” she said. “And if you cannot dress decently, you might as well not dress at all. Take off every stitch of your clothing.”

The message went over my head. A nun would never say anything like that, so, obviously, Sister Lucretia could not possibly have said what I just heard. I stood there some more, looking stupid.

“Miss Beaver, we can do this one of two ways,” Sister said. “Either I can call your parents and tell them what a wicked daughter they’ve raised, or you can accept your punishment now, and we can keep this between us. The choice is yours. Which do you prefer?”

“Please don’t call my parents, Sister.”

“Then strip, girl.”

So I took my clothes off. Or tried to. My fingers went numb as I fumbled with the zipper on the back of my jumper. I couldn’t get a grip on the pull-tab, and Sister was in no mood to wait. She sighed angrily, grabbed my shoulders and spun me around. I heard the zipper go down and felt the jumper come apart. Something ripped.

Sister yanked the jumper to my feet, and I stepped out of it.

“Turn around,” she said. “Do you think you can do the rest, or are you such a baby that you need an adult to undress you?”

She kept her eyes on my chest while I unbuttoned my blouse, unhooked my bra, and let them both fall to the floor. I began to toe off my shoes, but she said, “Unlace them.” I got down on one knee, then the other, but when I tried to get up from the crouch, I lost my balance and fell on my ass. My legs were spread wide, and I saw Sister’s gaze shift to my gaping crotch. I pulled my shoes off sitting down, and my knee socks, too. When I stood up again, I had nothing on but the miraculous medal around my neck.

“Now pick up your things and fold them neatly on my desk,” Sister said.

This was even more demeaning than getting naked in the first place. It was Sister Lucretia who made me take everything off, and now she was blaming me for making a mess. But at least it gave me something to think about besides my exposure, and I could hide behind my jumper and my blouse while I folded each one lengthwise, clasping it under my chin, then into thirds. I laid the jumper on the corner of the desk, square with the edges, placed the blouse and bra on top, and tucked my socks into my shoes.

Now, with nothing more to focus on, I felt totally nude again. I tried covering up — one hand over my skimpy bush, the other in front of my titties — but Sister slapped my arms away.

“Stand up straight,” she said.

I squared my shoulders, lifting my breasts. Not that there was much to lift.

“Not quite ripe, are you?” she said. “But you are nice and slim.”

“Thank you, Sister,” was all I could think to say.

“That was not a compliment. A body like yours is an occasion for sin. The boys are already looking at you with lust in their hearts. Some of the girls, too, I imagine. They’re marching into hell with you at the head of the line. Do you understand the kind of perversion a girl like you is responsible for?”

“Yes’ster.”

“I doubt it,” she said. “But you’re about to learn. Are you ready to accept your punishment?”

“Yes’ster.”

“Enunciate!”

“Yes, Sister.”

“Fine. Do you know the door at the end of the hall on the third floor? The one we keep locked?”

“Yes, Sister.”

“Wait here for ten minutes, then go up there and knock. I shall be waiting for you.”

“Yes, Sister. May I put my clothes back on?”

“Of course you may,” she said. “All you have to do is come upstairs and get them. It’s that simple. Oh, don’t cry. Crying won’t help you now.”

“Sister, please,” I said. “I won’t do it again.”

“You certainly won’t,” she said, standing up. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

And she walked out of the room, taking my clothes with her.

She didn’t even bother to close the door. When I was sure she was gone, I went over, leaned out and pulled at the knob. But the door wouldn’t budge: it was held open by a latch on the floor. To unhook it, I’d have to step out into the corridor totally bare-assed. I was working up my courage to do just that when I heard some keys jingle. I dashed to the back of the room and ducked behind a desk. Somebody walked by outside. I peeked over the back of the seat, and from there, I watched the clock. The minute hand crawled around, and the more it crawled, the more frightened I got. I hugged myself to keep from shivering. Ten minutes dragged by — plenty of time to think about the long, naked walk ahead of me — and when it was up, I had to hurry upstairs no matter who saw me. If I was late, even by a minute, Sister would not be pleased.

I came back down the aisle and stuck my head out of the doorway.

The corridor was empty, thank God. At one end were the glass doors of the main entrance to the school. The sunlight was bright outside. The north stairs were down that way, to the right, but to get to them, I’d have to pass the main office, and the principal or the secretary might still be working, and they’d see me. At the other end of the corridor was a plaster statue of Saint Theresa, wearing the same habit our nuns did, standing on a pedestal at the spot where the hallway T’d off toward the east and west stairs.

I tiptoed out toward Saint Theresa. I don’t know why, since I was barefoot and no one would hear me anyway. More than anything, I was aware of the sticky tiles against my feet, and how hard and pointed my nipples were. I pulled on one of them nervously, and something between my legs sort of swelled. It felt heavy, like a ball of lead in my stomach was trying to push its way out through my vagina. It made it hard to walk, but I kept on, scared I was going to pee myself any second.

Left around the corner, past the girls’ room, one of those heavy, hissing fire doors opened into the east stairwell. The stairs were metal, and cold, with round handrails on either side. Everything was painted green, and there were columns of square bars beneath the center rails that rose in front of me, towering over my head as they reached the landings and turned back on themselves. I felt like a monkey in a cage.

The overhead lights on the third-floor were turned off, and the old, dark wood along the walls smothered whatever feeble illumination was left. I peeked around the corner. arms crossed over my titties, to make sure the coast was clear. All the classroom doors were closed, except for one, about halfway along, where a pale strip of daylight cut through the murk.

The room where Sister was waiting was down at the other end of the hall. The door looked smaller than it did back when I was in first grade, but it was just as forbidding. It was made of thick-grained oak, with deep-set panels, a black knob, and an old-fashioned keyhole in a black plate. We kids never knew what was behind it. The nuns never told us, and we were afraid to ask, but everybody imagined it was something spooky. One boy said the room was haunted. Another said it was where they kept dead bodies before funeral Masses at church.

I always thought it was just used for storage, but now, on the last leg of my walk of shame, I was thinking that a third boy came closest with his theory: he said they took bad kids in there and chained them up.

The corridor smelled of chalk dust, sharpened pencils and that stuff they sprinkle on the floor when a kid throws up. The floor up here wasn’t tile, either, just old, wavy planks that had been sanded almost to dust over the years. My heart was pounding, and I went slowly when I should have been racing to get out of sight. Every inch of my body felt prickly.

I passed the open classroom door. I didn’t see anyone inside, but I hadn’t taken another three steps when a booming voice behind me yelled, “YOU!”

My skin stood up all over. I stopped dead, still facing the oak door, which looked farther away than ever, until the voice commanded me in a crazy accent: “Turn ar-rount, younk voo-man.”

I did. A little nun I’d never seen before was standing outside the open classroom. I wouldn’t have believed anybody so tiny could yell the way she did, but her hard face made it plain she was holding back a storm. Big round glasses sat on her little beak of a nose, flashing with a milky light that hid her eyes. She glared up at me like an owl.

“Vot chu doink, trepp-sink aroun’ de school vit no close on?” she said. “Leetle children study here. Mebbe dey still here. Mebbe dey see you.”

“Sister Lucretia told me to do it,” I said.

“Vy?” the little nun demanded. “Vy good Seester Lu-kreetz make you do some-sink so eef-il? Tell me dot.”

“She told me to.”

“You said dot. I vant know vy.”

“I did something bad,” I said. “And this…this is part of my punishment.”

“Vot you do that was so bad? — Vell?”

There’s really no excuse for getting caught without your clothes on. All I could do was tell the truth.

“I wasn’t wearing panties in class,” I said.

“Ah!” the little nun said. “I see! So you go to de pen-antz room! Seester Lu-kreetz, she teach you lesson, ja? You know, venn you come out, you not be de same dirty gull dot go in.”

She marched up to me and clapped a hand between my legs.

“Vet!” she said. “You like your leetle poosy-cat, ja?”

She rubbed me a few times, back and forth. I was surprised how slick I was down there, and how easily her fingers slid around. I went up on my toes, with my hands on my head, knees bent, butt sticking out. Every muscle in my body was straining. I bit my lip and grunted.

“Ja?” she repeated. She rubbed harder. “It feel good?’

“Yes, Sister,” I confessed. “It does.”

“Den you are dis-kress!” she hissed at me. She pulled her hand away. “You go! You go to de pen-antz room! You safe your soul, you vicked tink! I vant hear you screm!”

She spun me around and gave me a nasty shove. I stumbled on. When I reached the door to my fate, I placed my hand on the knob and looked back over my shoulder. The little nun was still there, her owl eyes boring into my bare ass. She hadn’t moved, except that she was sniffing the fingers she’d shoved in my pussy.

I knocked. Nothing happened, so I knocked again, harder.

“Come in,” Sister Lucretia called.

The little room was darkened with blood-red curtains and ablaze with tiny flames. Candles were everywhere — in sparkling brass sticks, on metal racks, in cups of blue and red glass. They were on the floor, on the walls, hanging in chains from the ceiling, and lined up on a rough wooden table over on the right. There was other stuff on the table, too — stuff I couldn’t see clearly, but laid out evenly in a row — and, on the wall above it, a crucifix that must have been five feet high.

“Close and lock the door,” Sister Lucretia said.

She was standing in the middle of the room. She had her wimple on, and her brown veil spread across her shoulders, but other than that, and the crucifix that hung between her breasts, she was completely naked.

“Tell me. Do you think I’m beautiful?” she said.

“Yes, Sister!”

I meant it. The thing about the nuns at my grade school is that they were all either midgets, like Sister Owl-face, or Amazons. Sister Lucretia was one of the Amazons —long-legged and full-hipped, with broad shoulders, and, I saw now, big, round, high, firm tits. Her skin was soft and golden in the candlelight, and so smooth she could have been a statue, except for her dark red nipples and the black triangle between her legs.

“The Lord blessed me with beauty,” she said. “Or cursed me. When I was your age, I incited my share of lust. I became a bride of Christ to hide my body from the world. But here, in this room, we stand naked before Almighty God. We cannot hide from Him. He sees us as we are. Now come here.”

I was so awestruck, I had no will of my own. I took three wavering steps forward, my eyes locked on those perfect globes and their garnet polar caps.

“Put out your hands,” Sister said.

I obeyed without a thought, and in a flash, my wrists were bound in a pair of heavy leather cuffs. They were lined with fur, but they were awfully tight, and my fingers went cold when Sister tightened the buckles. She worked swiftly, passing a red cord between a set of rings and tying it off with a practiced touch. The cord was looped through an eye-bolt in the ceiling. Sister drew down on the other end, and my hands flew above my head. I went up on my toes and began to rotate, slowly, like a pig on a vertical spit, while Sister, with all due deliberation, tied the cord to a bar on the wall and made her way over to the table.

“Sister, what are you going to do?” I asked. I had gone from awestruck to terrified in a very few moments.

Naturally, she wouldn’t grant me the small comfort of an answer. I’d spun halfway around, facing the bar in the wall, and couldn’t see what she was doing. She knelt behind me and, after giving me a soft but icy pat on the butt, she began messing with my feet. Looking down, I could only see her fingers snaking around, clutching one ankle, then the other. When she stood up again, I couldn’t close my legs. A footlong metal bar was propping them open. It hurt even to try to touch my knees together.

Sister twisted me around and looked me over.

“I think we’re ready now,” she said.  She slipped her hand between my legs and rubbed lightly. Trussed up like I was, there was nothing I could do to stop her, even if I’d wanted to. And that was the most humiliating part, because as much as I hated her at that moment, my pussy was swimming in juice, and more than anything I wanted her to keep fingering me.

“Yes,” she said. “You are definitely ready.”

I whimpered when her hand went away.

“Be patient,” she said.

She returned to the table, and with her back to me, she made a show of fingering the objects she’d laid out, like she was trying to make up her mind which one to pick. But she took longer than she needed to. I was sure she knew what she was looking for. She just wanted me to squirm. Or maybe she wanted me to admire her ass.

When she faced me again at last, she was holding a small, square cutting board. It was at least an inch thick, and it had a handle on the side. It looked like something you’d buy at a kitchen store, but it hardly seemed likely Sister was about to chop vegetables.

“This is the instrument of your salvation,” she said, and she held it under my nose. “Kiss it.”

I touched my dry lips to the wood. It was ridiculous, but when you’re strung up naked, you do as you’re told. Sister circled behind me. She patted my ass again, with the same icy touch as before, though her hand was surprisingly soft. It felt almost as good on my behind as it had between my legs.

“Such a cute little heinie,” she said quietly. “It’s almost a pity to — ”

The end of that sentence was lost in the ear-splitting whap on my ass. The sting was paralyzing. Tears shot from my eyes, and I shrieked — as much from shock as from pain, but definitely from pain. If Sister Owl-face was listening at the door, she got her wish to hear me “screm.” And her wish was going to be granted again and again.

“Aw, poor baby,” Sister Lucretia said. “Did that hurt?”

“Yes, Sister!”

“Well, it was not one one-hundredth of the pain your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ suffered on the cross for you,” she said. “And it is not one one-millionth of the pain you will suffer in hell if I fail to save your soul. Thank your lucky stars you’re getting off so lightly.”

She hit me again, and I shrieked again.

“Now, how much did that hurt?”

“It hurt a lot, Sister. Please don’t do it anymore.”

“Oh, we’ve hardly begun,” she said. “Two whacks are never enough to exorcise the demon of sex. Pray while I cleanse you. Say a Hail Mary. Go on. Start.”

And I recited the words we all learned as babies while Sister paddled my poor bottom.

“Hail, Mary — ugh! — full of grace — ugh! — the Lord is with thee — ah! Blessed art thou — ah! — among women — ow! — and blessed is the fruit — aah! — of thy womb — Jesus! Holy Mary — ugh! — Mother of — God! — pray for us — ah! — sinners — ugh! — now — ah! — and at the hour of — ow! — of our death — ah! — Amen… ow! — Amen! Ow! Please! Ow! Sister, stop! Ow! Pleeaaase! Aah!”

“Twenty!” Sister cried.

My ass was on fire. I wept out loud. The tears stood in my eyes like a wall of water, blurring the candle flames into one throbbing white shimmer. Beyond the light the room was spinning, and Plaster Jesus swooped through the air on his cross.

“Oh, Jesus,” I sobbed, “save me!”

“Jesus is saving you,” Sister said. “He’s saving you through me. You should see your bottom right now — such a rosy glow. I do excellent work. But your lesson isn’t quite over.”

“No, Sister, please. Don’t do it anymore. I’ll be good. I won’t ever do it again, I promise! Please!”

“How many times have I heard that before?” she said sadly.

She went back to the table and laid the board aside. My eyes cleared enough for me to see her pick up a crinkled tube and a stubby white candle that wasn’t lit. She held the tube over the candle, like she was putting toothpaste on a brush, and a string of clear jelly flowed from the narrow mouth, glittering in the candlelight. Sister smiled at me over the tube.

“It’s always fun to go to the drug store and buy this,” she said. “They can never figure out what a nun would need it for.”

She put the tube down and smeared the jelly all around the candle. Then she held the candle to my face.

“Kiss this, too” she said. “It is the bond of a new covenant.”

Up close, I saw it wasn’t a candle. It was plastic, not wax, and there was no wick, not even a hole for one. But I kissed the tip, just the same, and licked the grease from my lips.

“Now—” Sister said, and she went out of sight behind me.

She slid her hand into my butt crack, over my asshole and between my legs. Her fingers were oily from the stuff in the tube, and her touch was soothing on my scorched behind. I let out a deep breath.

“Feel better?” Sister asked.

“Yes, Sister. A little.” It was so weird. She was having a great time making me suffer, and yet I was grateful for any little show of sympathy.

I felt myself filling up, stretching around something hard and slick. Sister was stuffing the big lubed candle into my vagina.

But I was right: it wasn’t a candle. Something clicked, and the plastic thing started to buzz. A trickle of pleasure, hardly noticeable at first, began to spread from my insides to the jillions of nerve endings that ringed my pussy lips.

“Don’t you dare let that fall out,” Sister said in my ear. “If it hits the floor, I will paddle you senseless.”

“I won’t, Sister. I promise.”

I clenched my inner muscles around the buzzing tube. The tingling grew stronger, and I almost forgot about my sore ass.

Sister made one last trip to the table and came back with yet another contraption. This one looked like some kind of medieval toilet brush, with a bundle of black ribbons hanging from a stick. She swung the ribbons lazily from side to side, and then, with an evil smirk, she slashed them across my chest. I gasped in fright — the lashes felt like they all had tiny teeth along the edges — but the pain didn’t seem so bad. Between my buzzing pussy and my stinging titties, I barely knew what was happening.

Sister held the whip beneath my chin.

“Tell me you’re a slut,” she said.

My mind was whirling. I couldn’t make myself talk, and Sister Lucretia was very clear on the need for instant obedience. She swatted my chest again, even more savagely.

“Say it!” she said.

“I’m a slut,” I said.

“Tell me you’re a fucking dirty little whore.”

“Sister, we’re not allowed to say that word—”

Slash!

“I’m a fucking dirty little whore!” I cried.

“Now say, Holy Mary, pray for me, for I am a lustful, filthy little cunt.”

“Holy …holy Mary —” I never finished the prayer. The buzzing in my lustful, filthy little cunt had become overwhelming, and Sister had begun to twirl the heavy black lashes around my little breasts. My nipples were agonizingly sensitive, and the scratching of those tiny razor teeth was enough to drain my mind of any thoughts of atonement. I could only wail and babble as my body convulsed endlessly. It was the same feeling I had when I touched myself that time, but far, far beyond it — the difference, really, between feeling God’s presence in your heart and actually seeing Him in all His glory.

Sister stopped whipping my tits. She gripped the back of my neck and pulled me close.

“Suck it,” she demanded.

My face sank deep into the pillowy breast. My lips went around the nipple, which swelled and hardened in my mouth. I sucked and sucked, like a starving baby, while the vibrating mass in my cunt sent tongues of fire shooting through my body.

“You are a wicked little girl,” Sister moaned. “Suck harder, you wicked little bitch. It’s all you’re good for. Oh … sweet Jesus!”

I couldn’t see, with a mouthful of tit, but I heard a wet slapping sound, and Sister’s wrist was knocking against my stomach. I knew what she was doing. She was going at her own cunt, and with some kind of fury. It would have shocked me — she was committing the same sin she was punishing me for! — if I hadn’t been half out of my mind with sex. She gasped the words “come” and “coming,” and oh, did she take the Lord’s name in vain, and the whole time, all I could think was, if this is penance—

I barely noticed when Sister finally turned off the vibrator. I hung limp in my leather cuffs, dead weight, unable to straighten up or move. If not for the rope in the ceiling, I would have crumpled to the floor.

Sister took a fistful of my hair and yanked my head up. She looked me sternly in the eye, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. Mostly, I was numb, but somewhere in the back of my mind, there was a glimmer of awareness that my soul had been cleansed.

“If you ever tell anyone about this, you’ll go straight to fucking hell,” Sister said. “And if I ever catch you dressing indecently again, I will drag your ass back up here and whip you within an inch of your life. Now, go and sin no more.”

***

“Excuse me, Sister Lucretia?”

“Yes, who’s there? Come in.”

“Remember me?”

“Miss Beaver! Of course, I remember you.”

It was late on a Friday. The kids had all gone home, and I found Sister Lucretia at her desk. Alone, as usual.

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” she said.

“I was passing by on my way home —”

“You’re at St. Sebastian’s now,” she said. “You’ve traded our uniform for theirs.”

“Everything but the shoes,” I said.

“What year are you in?”

“Still a freshman,” I said.

“So you only graduated last year,” she said. “I do lose track of the time. You’re becoming quite an attractive young woman.”

“You told me once that wasn’t a compliment.”

“Beauty is more trouble than it’s worth,” she said. “The important thing is, are you being a good girl?”

“I am,” I said. “I’ve never let a boy touch me — and I have you to thank for that.”

“Then we’ve done some good.”

“That wasn’t a compliment, either.”

“Nobody likes a smart-mouth,” she said.

“And nobody likes a cruel bitch.”

“Is that what you came back here for — to insult a nun?”

“No, I came back to ask you a question,” I said.

“Then ask.”

“Do you remember what you said to me that day in the penance room?”

“I said a lot of things.”

“When it was over.”

“Remind me.”

“That if you ever caught me again, you know…”

“Oh yes. If I ever caught you dressing indecently again, I would take you back upstairs, and it would be much the worse for you. What about it?”

“Did you mean it?”

“I never say anything I don’t mean. Why?”

I hiked my skirt up to my waist.

“I might have known,” Sister said.

“I’ve been traipsing around like this all day.”

“You need another lesson.”

“Yes, Sister.”

“Very well, then. Take your clothes off. Every stitch.”

“Yes, Sister.”

The End