Passion Grades
By Captain Eazy
11
“Cindy. Please. Don’t leave me. Don’t be so mean. Please don’t make me put that thing on again.”
Cindy’s expression looked miserable, but she stroked Fiona’s blonde hair with a gentle hand and said softly, “I’m really sorry, Fi. I’ve got to do this. If I don’t, I’ll so be in trouble. You don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?”
Helplessly, Fiona shook her head and let Cindy spray her with the silicone lubricant. It felt so cold, so clammy, and Cindy’s touch was much heavier than Shanese’s. By the time Cindy finished, Fiona’s slick flesh gleamed like a wet seal’s. Then Cindy tugged the latex bottoms into place, fitting the toes and then adjusting the heel. Fiona was lying on her bed and helped as much as she could, standing up when the time came to have her ass sprayed and then tugging the stretchy waist part up over her hips and to her middle. “Turn around and face me, now,” Cindy said, and wearily, Fiona obeyed her. The thin chain clinked and jangled, sounding like jewelry.
Because Fiona now wore a metal-link collar around her neck, and because the chain secured the collar to a metal eyebolt in the bathroom wall, Cindy couldn’t slide a latex suit top over her head. The one Fiona now had to wear instead was a little different, split in a thick seam up the back with another zipper-like seal. Cindy sprayed her torso, and then helped her pull the top into place. “Lie down. No, on your tummy. Roll over.” As Fiona lay flat on her stomach, she felt Cindy seal the back seam and the waist seam.
Finally Cindy gave her left buttock a friendly little slap, and Fiona felt her rubber-encased flesh quiver. “All done, and you look very pretty in that. You’ve got a really sweet ass, Fiona. You’re gonna drive the guys crazy some day. What time is it? Damn, five to eight. I’ve got to go to class, Fi,” Cindy said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Here’s your breakfast. Get some sleep if you can, hon.”
With no enthusiasm, Fiona looked dully at her breakfast: a whole pint of the frothy white protein drink. Since her chaining, that and a daily vitamin pill were all she had in the mornings, and another pint of the drink at noon. At dinner time, she got a small solid meal as well, along with yet a third brimming pint of the thick drink. Cindy turned on the DVD player and TV and said, “Be good, now. I’ll be back in three hours.”
Fiona groaned as Cindy closed the door behind her. The pink bubble suit was so hot, so confining. . . and so terribly stimulating. She could take it for about two hours, and then, when she felt she was going to pass out from the contained body heat, she would go and stand in the shower and turn on the needles of cold water. That was the only thing that helped. She sipped the drink, making a face. Though it tasted faintly of vanilla, it was bland, thick and cloying, with a slimy texture, a little bit like eggnog, but very bad eggnog. She forced it down, trying not to look at the DVD playing on the TV, trying not to listen to it.
This movie wasn’t the dirty one that naughty Cindy had brought back from town. This was an official college DVD, very professionally done, produced by the St. Incundita senior class of a few years before. It was the third one she had seen since being forcibly returned to campus, since being chained to the wall in her dorm room.
The DVD consisted of a series of St. Incundita’s College for Women girls eagerly telling her that she had to obey, advising her that she would be happy only when she was finally enslaved, and assuring her that what made her unhappy and sick was simply a set of irrational feelings and fears inside her, a mass of bad attitudes and repressions and hang-ups. She had to get rid of all her bad inhibitions, give in, submit, and then everything would be all right again. It was simple, they said. They all had done it, they said, and none of them regretted the decision, no, not for a teeny instant. All she had to do was make up her mind and accept the college teachings. She would be so happy, so rewarded. Because sex was so good, and she was made for sex. Over and over again, the girls reminded Fiona that she, too, was a St. Incundita girl.
And all the time the naked girls on screen told her these things, they wantonly indulged themselves, loving each other, loving anonymous well-endowed boys, masturbating themselves or each other or the men, making a happy, bawdy display of their lush bodies. After the first DVD, Fiona had begged Cindy not to show her any more. “They’re sluts,” she had wept. “They’re all sluts.”
“Honey,” Cindy had said quietly, “we all are. Get used to that, Fi. Sure, I’m a slut, but so are you. Accept it. Come on, lose all that crappy guilt. Be a good slave, and you’ll see how great it can be.”
A shocked and stunned Fiona couldn’t even answer.
At eleven that morning, Fiona began to fidget and sniffle. She needed to pee so badly. Going in the suit humiliated her. Where was Cindy? Her last morning class ended at 10:50, and she had promised to come back as soon as she could. She had promised.
An increasingly desperate Fiona tried to wait it out. The tight bubblegum-pink latex hugged her in its lewd embrace, and she knew it was shaping her body, forcing her waist into a narrower configuration, and making her belly and thighs smooth and sleek. It was subtly remolding her, making her fitter for sex, fitter to please her masters. . . or mistresses.
She hated it and she loved it—loved it because it felt so fucking good, and this one was the best yet. The nubbin in the crotch of this model was large, textured with little ridges, and maddeningly stimulating, nudging her clit at her least movement. When the girls on TV were panting and yelping and squealing in orgasm, all Fiona had to do was put two fingers on that seam, and it worked her up to release in a matter of seconds. And every orgasm that ripped through her seemed better, more intense, and made her yearn for more.
But coming also made her feel the need to urinate more and more keenly. She groaned and rolled from side to side. Come on, Cindy! Help me! I need you!
She pressed her thighs together, writhing on the bed. Her distended bladder felt as if it ware about to burst. Oh, come on, Cindy, please come back. I don’t want to be bad, but I need you to let me out.
But more minutes crept by and Cindy didn’t come. In agony, Fiona got up at last and padded into the bathroom, the rubber soles of her feet squeaking on the clean tile floor. The chain gave her just enough play to take a shower or use the toilet, or to lie in her bed. It wasn’t long enough to let her reach the window or the door or the desk with her computer and the TV on it. Fiona fumbled with the waistband of the latex suit, but the zippered seal always seemed to melt together, and it was devilishly tight. She couldn’t rip the suit. If she did, if she shed it before the prescribed time was up, Cindy would get in trouble. Cindy was the one Alexandria had charged with putting her into the suits and letting her out of them. If Fiona disobeyed and did it herself, Cindy would be punished.
And Cindy would have to confess it. She was brainwashed. She couldn’t lie, not to a teacher.
“Ohhh . . . ” Fiona threw her head back and let go. She felt the warm flow of pee run inside the suit, down her thighs into the feet, and she wept in bitter humiliation. Like some kind of—animal, she thought. They’ve made me less than human. She couldn’t stand to go on like this.
“Give in,” a girl said on the DVD back in the bedroom. “Give in and be a St. Incundita girl. Then you’ll be happy, like us.”
“No more worries,” said the second girl, and then she returned to the act of cunnilingus, photographed in close, loving detail. Fiona leaned against the doorjamb, weeping, watching the girls lick and writhe. She felt degraded, soiled, and nasty inside that hot clinging insidious rubber.
Cindy came breezing in a few minutes later. “Fiona? What’s the matter, sweetie? You look so upset!”
“I did it again,” Fiona wailed from the bathroom doorway. “I w-wet myself. I’m so sorry, but you didn’t come and didn’t come, and I had to go so bad. I couldn’t help it, Cin.”
“Poor baby. Sorry I was so late. Hey, no big deal, Fi. Get in the shower. We’ll clean you right up.”
Working with blunt scissors, Cindy soon cut and peeled the pink rubber suit away. “I’ll do the legs,” Fiona muttered. “They’re nasty.”
“No, they’re not. And you couldn’t help it, so don’t cry about it.” Cindy turned on the water and adjusted the showerhead to a fine needle-like spray.
Fiona soaped up with a washcloth and the gel and showered off the layer of sweat and urine. “Cindy,” she said as she accepted a towel from her thoughtful roommate, “Listen to me. You have to try and understand. They’re doing terrible things to us. We have to get away from here.”
“Here, let me do that.” Cindy took the towel and tenderly began to dry Fiona’s back. “I don’t want to get away, silly. I love it here. You would, too, if—”
“Don’t say it,” Fiona pleaded. “I don’t want to be a sex slave! It’s wrong, Cindy!”
“Fiona,” Cindy said, “you are a St. Incundita girl. Forget your prejudices and your preconceptions and all those silly inhibitions. Be a slut! It’s fun, it’s natural. You’re a St. Incundita girl, after all. You just have to learn to behave like one, that’s all.”
“All sluts,” moaned Fiona. “I saw you, saw all of you Halloween night, naked, sucking, licking, awful, dirty—there was an, an orgy.”
“Party games,” Cindy replied, laughing lightly. “We were chaperoned, you silly.” Her eyes twinkled. “Didn’t you see all the teachers there? I’ll tell you the truth, the first time I met Alexandria Carver, she, well, she like scared the pee out of me, but when I got to know her, really know her, she turned out to be adorable and wonderful and she made me come like a maniac. There, you’re all sweet and clean again. Come on. I’ll give you a back rub with some of that nice scented oil and you’ll feel a whole lot better.”
Cindy led her back to the dorm room, and Fiona lay face-down on her bed. Because of the chain, they’d had to reverse her normal attitude: the pillow was on what had used to be the foot of the bed. Fiona buried her forehead in it and crossed her arms beneath the pillow. Cindy sprinkled some massage oil on her hands, said, “Just relax, now,” and Fiona felt her slippery palms at work on her shoulders.
The aroma of the massage oil was intoxicating, delicate and with some warming component in it that made her skin feel as if it were glowing. The scent, ah, the scent, sweet but deeply musky, made her feel wet and ready for anything. She wanted to masturbate just from that aroma. “That’s it,” Cindy whispered. “Oh, yeah, you’re so tight. Gotta work on these muscles. Here, let me get comfortable.” She stripped down to panties, then sprinkled more of the oil on Fiona’s back, first cold, then as her hands touched it, rapidly warming with the heat of spiced food, that kind of tingling sensation. Humming to herself, Cindy rubbed and kneaded, moving lower, down to the swell of Fiona’s hips, and her sly fingers found their way down between Fiona’s thighs, caressing her sex. Fiona gasped and bucked, feeling the warm drip of the oil along her slit, and she murmured, “No,” but she meant “yes.”
“What do you want me to do?” Cindy asked huskily. “I love doing this, Fi. I love you. You know that. Test me out. Tell me anything your heart desires and I’ll do it.”
“No. It’s wrong,” moaned Fiona, hiding her face in the pillow.
That caressing hand, so gentle, so hot, on her ass. “Not for us. We’re St. Incundita girls. Nothing is wrong for us. But you have to tell me, Fiona. Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll lick you. I’ll rub you and make you feel wonderful. I can do anything but penetrate you. Oh, Fi, I can make you feel so nice. Or if you want to do me, I’ll let you do me. Want to see what it looks like in real life when a girl gets fucked? Fuck me with the dildo. Watch from up close. It’s nice, Fiona, so nice. Give in. Come on, hon. You want something. Tell me what you want. It’s so easy. Just tell me.”
“No,” groaned Fiona.
A slippery finger teased her puckered asshole. “This?” crooned Cindy. “You want this?”
“No.” Yes! Yes, I want it all, everything, everything you’ve ever done to a girl, everything any girl or any boy has done to you, I want it all, yes! Yes! “Uhh . . . nno-o-o.”
Fiona tried to clamp her thighs together, but the insidious touch of the oil made her body treacherous, made her open her legs as Cindy worked high on the inside of her thighs, brushed her slit. “This? You want your pussy stroked? You want your cute little clit rubbed and rubbed until it just explodes and you’re all wet and your heart is pounding and it’s like you’ve been on the world’s greatest roller coaster and have had that long, long delicious drop? Is that what you want? You’re wet, I can tell. Mm. How’s that, Fi?”
“That—that feels—”
Cindy leaned down so her face was next to Fiona’s and she whispered in the other girl’s ear: “Just tell me, Fi. Ask me, that’s all. I’ll do anything. I’ll let you do anything. Give in. Be my slave for just five minutes, and I’ll make you free, so free.”
Biting her lip, Fiona shook her head. “C-can’t. It’s dirty, it’s b-bad.”
Finally, with a sigh, Cindy toweled her back. “Well, you’re sweeter now, anyway. I’m sorry you peed on yourself, Fi. It’s nearly noon. Ready for your lunch?”
“I don’t want it,” Fiona said into her pillow.
Cindy had been sitting on the edge of Fiona’s bed. The springs creaked as she stood up. “Come on,” she wheedled, like a mommy trying to get a toddler to try strained peas. “It’s gonna give you nice big tits. You like my titties, don’t you? You like Alexandria’s tits, I know. Mm, she has such nice ones, so round, and they bounce so nicely, and her nipples! My God, have you seen them when they’re excited? They’re as big as my thumb, and sooo stiff! Mm, when you suck on them they’re so sensitive they make Alexandria come and come. I want tits like hers. They’re so nice. Wouldn’t you like great big tits like that, Fi? Wouldn’t you like me to suck and lick them? Hmm?”
Fiona pushed herself up to sit on the bed, the chain dangling, her head drooping. “Please,” she begged. “Cindy, please help me find some way to call Daddy. He’d kill them if he knew what they’re doing to us, turning us into, into wh-whores and sluts.”
Cindy paid her no attention and left the room without bothering to dress. In a couple of moments she came back from the kitchen with a big glass. “Here. Drink up.”
Still clad only in her thin panties, Cindy sat down again next to Fiona on the bed and offered her the drink. “I don’t want it,” Fiona said in despair.
Cindy tutted and stroked her cheek. “You have to drink it, sweetie. You want to get better, don’t you? Just think of it as medicine.”
Fighting nausea, Fiona accepted the glass and drank the foamy white liquid in a dozen forced gulps, shuddering at the slimy texture. Cindy took the empty glass and set it on the desk, then came back and straddled Fiona’s knees. She settled down, bending her legs but keeping most of her weight off Fiona’s legs. With a pixie-like smile, she leaned forward and her pink tongue darted out to clean the white mustache off Fiona’s upper lip. Fiona was breathing hard, and the touch of Cindy’s tongue was too much, and she opened her mouth and Cindy was giving her a deep, deep penetrating kiss, murmuring happily in her throat, almost purring.
Fiona felt the double press of Cindy’s boobs against her, just above the top slopes of her own breasts, and they were warm and the nipples were stiff and pleading for loving attention. An eternity went past, and still the two girls kissed and Fiona’s heart pounded. She couldn’t stand it. Cindy pulled back. “Tell me what you want me to do,” she whispered, her breath warm against Fiona’s cheeks.
“I—I need s-sex,” whimpered Fiona.
“Yes.” Cindy beamed, encouragingly. “Go on. Tell me, hon, it’s so easy, you’re almost there. You love me, don’t you? Tell me, Fi, tell me, sweetheart.”
But Fiona’s face flamed with sudden revulsion and shame, and she turned away. “Please—no, no, it’s bad, I’m bad! Cindy, for God’s sake, please, please, please help me call my daddy!”
Cindy sighed and got off her. “Fiona, I can’t, darling. I just can’t, that’s all. I’ve accepted my lesson. I have to obey, sweetie. I have to, understand? And it’s nice, it’s not how you think at all, you’d feel so free, so happy. You have to learn. Understand that. No one wants to hurt you, but you have to learn.” She looked at the clock beside her bed. “Gotta get ready for P.E. Think about it, Fiona. Please. I promise you, you’ll feel so much better. Here, let me put a new DVD on. This one,” she winked, “has a guy with the greatest dick in the world!”
12
Fiona was no longer allowed any clothes. Except for the heavy metal collar and, for three hours every single morning, the pink rubber bodysuit, she had to remain nude twenty-four hours a day. Gradually, over the next week, Cindy gave her other rules: Fiona could sit only on the edge of her bed, and when she did, she had to sit with knees spread far apart, exposing her sex. She felt terrible about that, even though Cindy kept praising her and telling her how sweet her pink pussy looked, all bare and open and inviting, like a delicate orchid. There were other rules, too. Whenever Cindy was in the room, Fiona had to ask her for permission to go to the bathroom, to have a drink of water, to lie down, to stand up. If she failed to do that, she hurt the other girl’s feelings and made Cindy herself disobedient, a shortcoming that Cindy said she would have to confess to Alexandria Carver, who was sure to punish her. To protect Cindy, Fiona complied with every mortifying order, every one except the command to be a slut, to become a slave. That was too horrifying for her to contemplate.
More days crept by, how many Fiona could no longer remember. Her whole life had shrunk down to this terrible reality, her whole existence limited by the thin clinking chain and the cold metal collar. Time lost its meaning. One day led into the next, and they were all the same. At night she slept deeply, dreaming incredibly vivid and lascivious dreams that made her wake up aching for sex. By day she remained a prisoner in the room, forced to watch, to hear the endless supply of sex films. Most were in the same format, cheerful naked girls advising her to give in, to submit, to live the happy life of a St. Incundita slave girl, willingly demonstrating every perversion, every sexual deviance.
Other films were . . . instructional. Well-endowed men deflowered beautiful virginal girls who gasped in ecstasy and then squealed in lustful pleasure. Lips and tongues teased white jets of cum from erect cocks, while a dispassionate voice commented on the proper techniques to be used. Despite herself, Fiona watched hungrily, licking her lips, imagining what it would be like. Through it all, Fiona felt as if she were in a constant state of arousal, unwilling to ask for release, yet desperate for it.
Trudy and June came over in the evenings, and every evening they argued with Fiona, told her she was being silly. They, they even did each other to show her how simple a thing it was, what a trivial little indulgence Cindy was asking for. Trudy, grinning, said, “See? See?” as she pumped June’s pussy with Cindy’s vibrating dildo, with it humming and squelching, and then June gasped and thrashed and yelped, “Oh, God, that’s good!” Then in her turn, June went down on Trudy and made her come, and then June gazed grinning at Fiona over Trudy’s thigh, licking her lips. Her chin and cheeks gleamed with Trudy’s juices. “You could do this if you wanted, Fi,” June said. “It’s fun. It’s easy.” She smacked her lips. “Mm, pussy is so tasty. Almost as good as cock!”
“It’s soooo damned good,” moaned Trudy. “Just let go and we’ll show you how good it is. We’ll kiss you all over, so nice, and we’ll love you like no one has ever loved you. C’mon, Fiona. Just ask us, tell us what you want to do.”
No, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
But those DVDs, the wet dreams she had all night longs, the protein drink, her increasingly sensitive nipples and clit, all worked against her. Fiona thought she was losing her mind. Even during the days her fantasies began to make her finger herself, and by night her dreams were so lucid that she absolutely felt a cock in her mouth at times, knew the spongy texture, and hungered for the hot spurt of creamy cum.
She began to believe she would never get out of St. Incundita’s. This was hell. She would be here not just for life, but for eternity, and the devils knew her evil desires, taunted her with them, teased her and tormented her with her own wickedness.
One evening—it might have been two weeks or a month after her attempted escape, she had no way of knowing—she was relieving herself in the bathroom when the door to Trudy’s and June’s room opened. Trudy came in and saw her sitting on the toilet. “Oh.”
“S-sorry,” Fiona said. “I’m finished now, I—” She began to stand up, but Trudy rudely shoved her shoulder, and she settled back down on the toilet seat.
Trudy gave her a cold look. “Don’t get up, you evil little bitch. Stay where you are.”
“Wh-what?”
Trudy stripped and strode over to her. “You damn little bitch,” she said viciously. “Do you hate us? Do you hate your college?”
From her seat on the toilet, feeling absurdly embarrassed, Fiona looked up at her neighbor. God, Trudy’s boobs were getting so round, their nipples so pink and firm! “I—no, I don’t, but you’re not helping me, Tru, they’re keeping me prisoner, I’m chained up like a dog, and you don’t help me at all—”
“Shut up!”
Fiona broke off, sobbing.
“Bitch,” Trudy said again. “Giving the whole dorm a bad name. Think you’re too good for St. Incundita. You dirty slut, we know what you dream about. You’re not fooling anyone. Get up. I said get up, bitch! Kneel down!”
Her voice was so furious that Fiona did just what she said, feeling the hard tile cold against her knees. She knelt beside the toilet, shivering from fear and shock.
Trudy lifted a leg and put her foot on the toilet seat. “Open your mouth, bitch,” she said, lowering herself.
Fiona shook her head, and to her astonishment, Trudy slapped her hard on the cheek, so hard that her ears rang with the force of the blow. “Do what I say! Obey me, bitch!”
Trembling, Fiona closed her eyes and opened her mouth.
In a moment, a stream of hot urine spurted into her open mouth. She sputtered, feeling it gush out over her breasts, tried to pull back, but Trudy had her head in her hands and was holding her there, forcing her, and it tasted foul, bitter, briny, and Fiona was going to vomit—
“What the hell are you doing to my roommate?”
Cindy. She pulled Trudy away, grabbed Fiona’s arms, tugged her up to her feet. “Spit it out, Fi!”
Fiona turned and gagged and spat the piss into the toilet. It glurched into the porcelain bowl, yellow and bubbly. “Goddam it, Trudy,” Cindy said in a fuming voice. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“I didn’t hurt the bitch!”
Cindy was patting Fiona on the shoulder, and Fiona stood shuddering from great, deep, racking sobs. Cindy said, “Don’t just stand there, Trudy. Can’t you see what you’ve done to her? Hand me a cup of water.”
Fiona, trembling, stinking of piss, took the cup as Cindy cooed, “Here, rinse, sweetie. Good, good. Spit. That’s right. Rinse again, get the taste out.He This won’t happen again. My God, Trudy, what a mess you made! Mop this up with a towel or something. Sweetie, get in the shower, clean up.”
Fiona stood in the shower, let the pounding hard spray rinse her body, and scrubbed her skin mercilessly with the bath gel. She let the water flow into her open mouth, dribble out, and cascade down over her front. She didn’t feel as though she would ever be clean again.
Then Cindy was in the shower with her, caressing her and petting her. “It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetie,” she cooed. “Trudy was just mad and took it out on you. It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again.” Her arms were around Fiona. “Kiss me.”
Aghast, Fiona tried to pull away. “N-no. My m-mouth is dirty!”
Cindy gave her a heart-melting, radiant smile. “No part of you is dirty, sweet one. Kiss me.”
And their lips were together, and they stood in the streaming hot water, breasts pressing breasts, and somehow Fiona’s arms were around Cindy, caressing her, holding her tight, clasping her slippery, firm buttocks. She felt the round pressure of Cin’s knee against her legs, and she opened her thighs and pulled Cindy even closer, tight, so tight, as if they were trying to fuse into one being, one incredible girl-thing. “Oh, Cin,” she groaned. “Hold me, Cin. Oh, please, please hold me.”
Cindy held her tight, stroking her wet hair. “It’s all right now, baby. It’s okay.”
“Cin,” Fiona whispered, nearly choking on the words, “oh, Cin, love me.”
Cindy whispered gentle words into her ear: “Tell me what to do.”
“Eat me,” Fiona said wildly. “Lick my clit. Make me come! I want to sixty-nine you, Cin. I need sex, real sex, I can’t just—just rub myself, I want your mouth on my pussy! I need it so much!”
Still wet, they stumbled from the shower to Fiona’s bed. They fell into it, Fiona on bottom, a reversed Cindy on top. “Yes!” Fiona felt the hot kiss on her pussy, opened her legs desperately. “Lick me, lick me!”
And there was Cindy’s bare, pretty pussy hanging just above her face, so welcoming and pink, and she reached up and embraced her roommate’s hips and pulled her down, close, and her tongue darted out, yes, and the taste was wonderful, the incredible tang of heated girl. Fiona felt Cindy’s tongue polishing her clit, and she returned the favor, loving the way Cindy’s clit became engorged, came out of hiding, pulsed against her eager tongue—and then her first orgasm ripped the whole world apart.
Three more of them followed in quick succession, so keen and sharp they made her head spin. Fiona felt drugged on sex, crazy with it, and when she at last took stock of her surroundings, to her surprise and shock she saw a naked and grinning Trudy, and beside her a naked and grinning June, and—
“Way to go, Fi,” Trudy said. “Hey, girl, I’m really sorry for that mean trick I played on you, but it worked! See, we thought a little good cop, bad cop—”
“Good cunt, bad cunt,” laughed Cindy, rolling off Fiona and caressing her own tits languidly, obviously relishing the sensation. “And yes, it certainly did work! You finally loosened up, had some fun, gave in, and guess what? The world didn’t end! It felt good. Admit it!”
“Oh,” Fiona said, feeling foolish, wanting to hide her nakedness.
“Fiona,” Cindy warned, reaching to grab her wrist and keep her from cupping and concealing her sex, “you are a St. Incundita girl. Remember that. Stop all this foolishness. You’ve proved you’re a St. Incundita girl, just like us. We love you.”
“Yes. . . .”
“So,” Trudy said. “Any way I can make it up to you?”
Fiona lay back and spread her legs. “Eat me out, please,” she said in a small, pleading voice. “Make me come.”
“And after?”
“I’ll do anything you say,” Fiona murmured, closing her eyes, surrendering to her fate. “Anything.”
God, Cindy had been right all along, it was so good not to fight any longer. So good just to let go, to let it. . . let it happen.
Cindy and June lay on Cindy’s bed, and June worked at Cindy’s cunt with that vibrating dildo. Trudy’s tongue flickered expertly and her lips nibbled, and a blinding orgasm took Fiona, oh, God, she had been such a fool—
“You liked that, didn’t you?” asked Trudy with an evil smile, looking up with a smile slick with Fiona’s juices.
“Oh, yeah.” Fiona felt an answering wicked smile spread across her own lips. Her hand reached down to caress Trudy’s face. “Yeah-h-h,” she sighed happily.
“Now, slave,” Trudy said, moving up so she straddled Fiona’s head, “I want you to lick my asshole.”
Groggily, Fiona stared upward. It was pink, it was even pretty, like a little folded rosebud. “Yes,” she said dreamily, shame lost, inhibitions lost, and she flicked out her pointed tongue to obey.
Dimly, faintly, Fiona heard Cindy say, “She’s doing great. I think she’s gonna be ready after all.”
Ready for what? a small voice screamed from somewhere deep inside Fiona’s head. With tears running from the corners of her eyes she forced the voice into silence and flickered her tongue faster as she pleased the purring Trudy.