by Ray Gordon
There had been a time when Barry had taken rather too much interest in Jill. Marianne recalled questioning him, accusing him of cheating on her, lying to her. Little had she known that Jill's roaming eyes had homed in on her! Barry had laughed off Marianne's accusations, condemning Jill as a rampant lesbian who'd never take any interest in men. God, how right he was!
'I don't think you're hypnotized,' Jill said accusingly as she sat before the girl and gazed at the swell of her red panties. 'If you were you wouldn't hesitate - you'd follow my orders and slip your knickers off. I don't know much about hypnosis, but I do know you're faking it.'
Swallowing hard, Marianne peeled her tight panties away from her soft mound, determined now to take her deception further - to fool all those who discovered the mystical word. She had nothing to lose, she convinced herself as she slipped her panties down her shapely thighs, revealing her sparse blonde pubes, her pink pussy-slit, to her lesbian friend.
No one would know what she'd done. As far as Jill was concerned, even Marianne, in her hypnotic state, would know nothing. Only Jill will know about this, she thought as she slipped her panties over her ankles and kicked them aside. Hopefully, only Jill will sense the stab of guilt.
'Let's go into the lounge,' Jill suggested, clutching the vibrator as she led her slave through the hall. 'You'll be far more comfortable on the sofa.' Marianne followed the other girl, her heart thumping hard against her chest, her hands trembling, her womb fluttering as she imagined lying on the sofa with her sexuality bared to another woman, the vibrator taking her to orgasm.
Although she'd never used the sex-toy, the thought of doing so had crossed her mind once or twice. She recalled the morning when Barry had sucked her clitoris into his mouth and fingered her inner vaginal flesh, and the phone had rung - destroying her climax, their planned lovemaking. He'd rushed off to the office leaving her on a sexual high, desperate for orgasm. But she'd not found the courage to use the vibrator to bring her the much needed relief she craved.
'Lie on the sofa with your legs open wide,' Jill instructed, breaking Marianne's reverie. Marianne sat down, reclining and parting her thighs as the girl settled between her feet and gazed appreciatively at Marianne's gaping vulva.
All thoughts of Barry and John faded as she sensed Jill's fingers probing between her swelling pussy lips. All thoughts of the real world, of right and wrong, drifted into obscurity as, for the first time in her life, a female finger penetrated her sex-sheath, absorbing the inner heat of her spasming vagina.
Her head back, her legs spread wide, Marianne opened the feminine centre of her body, offering herself completely to Jill. Her racked mind seemed to settle now, to calm and accept the incredible situation - this lesbian coupling. As Jill's finger massaged Marianne's fleshy sex-duct, inducing torrents of creamy fluid to secrete from her nectaries, Marianne closed her eyes, surrendering to complete and utter submission.
'I've dreamed of doing this to you,' Jill confessed softly as she slipped a second finger into Marianne's quivering body, stretching her glistening vaginal flesh open. 'Many times I've thought about you, imagined your pussy, with me fingering your beautiful pussy-hole. But I'd never dreamed that I'd be able to send you into a hypnotic trance at the drop of a word or have your beautiful body all to myself like this.'
Marianne had never dreamed that she'd be deceiving people this, let alone offering her vagina to another girl. As the sensations of lesbian sex welled, she opened her mouth, full red lips dry as she gasped and her womb contracted. Her mind ran amok again, confusing her, torturing her. This is so right! No, this is wrong! I'm not a lesbian! No, no - yes! As she heard the vibrator softly buzz, her heart leapt and she opened her eyes a little, spying on the fresh girl wielding the beautiful humming phallus, moving the pink tip ever closer to Marianne's yawning sex-groove - her stiffening clitoris.
Whatever John had had in mind for today, whatever sexual delights he'd planned for Marianne, she'd never thought she'd be lying with her pussy bared, open and swollen with sex, blatantly on offer to Jill! Her act was forbidden and yet, strangely, so right. She was finding an uncanny comfort with another girl, a bizarre acceptance of the lesbian now exploring between her thighs. She was discovering a frightening sexual deviance in the murky depths of her own subconscious.
Her body jolted as the tip of the vibrator brushed gently against her blossoming clitoris. The electrifying sensations transmitting deep into her spasming cunt, reverberating through her womb, she gasped, whimpering as every muscle tensed and every nerve ending tingled with sexual pleasure.
'You're going to enjoy this,' Jill assured her softly, her fingers still locked within Marianne's tightening vagina as she deftly circled the girl's clitoris with the buzzing phallus. 'You're going to be a good girl and come for me.'
Marianne's senses momentarily returned and she gazed around the lounge through her eyelashes. The TV she'd enjoyed watching with Barry, his book and empty coffee cup on the table, the newspaper he'd left in the armchair, his paperwork spilled on the floor... This had been their lounge, their domain - but now it was a sex den that belonged to Marianne, to John, and to Jill. No longer would she be able to make love with Barry by the fire or on the sofa without images of John looming, thoughts of Jill's probing fingers excavating her love-hole.
Her pussy, her body, her very being, had belonged to Barry - it had been his to enjoy, and his only. Times change, she mused as her clitoris throbbed and the beginnings of her orgasm welled, causing her to arch her back and quiver in her ecstasy.
'There's a good girl!' Jill praised, all too aware of her slave's impending orgasm. 'Just relax and let it come.' Marianne did relax, and her climax did come. Wave after crashing wave of orgasmic pleasure erupted from her vibrating clitoris and ripped though her nervous system. Crying out as she dug her fingernails into the sofa and parted her thighs as far as she was able, she shook violently, her mind awash with sex, her body afire with lesbian lust as she imagined herself taking Jill in turn to such an incredible orgasm.
Now even the familiar lounge, the furniture, the memories, faded into oblivion. It didn't matter who was working intimately between her legs, male or female, it was of no consequence. Her concentration; her thoughts, her entire being centred on her burning cunt, her exploding clitoris.
'Keep coming, my angel - keep coming,' Jill's words drifted, floating somewhere above Marianne's consumed body. 'Keep coming, and then you can make me come.'
At last the vibrator moved away from Marianne's aching clitoris, allowing her orgasm to subside, her mind to return to her quaking body. As she lay exhausted on the sofa, her juices decanting from her fiery cunt-hole as Jill slipped her wet fingers from her open body, Marianne gasped in her incredible pleasure.
She was enjoying her first lesbian affair, and she was delighted to think that there were more firsts to come, more new sexual experiences to encounter. Suddenly, Jill's darting tongue lapped, probing between Marianne's rubicund sex-lips, cleansing her there. The thought that this was a female tongue heightened the girl's arousal, lifting her high on another swirling cloud of orgasm. Her clitoris receiving attention now, she whimpered, stifling her orgasmic screams as her perspiring body shuddered uncontrollably and her thighs gripped her partner in lesbian lust. On and on her climax rolled as Jill mouthed and sucked on her erupting clitoris, the incredible sensations ripping through her mind, shaking her perspiring body.
Again, Marianne was released from the velvet grip of her come, leaving her panting for life-giving breath, desperate for her body to calm. As Jill finished her licking, cleansing Marianne's inner sex-folds with her wet tongue, lapping up the product of her orgasm, Marianne became aware of an urgent inner desire - a desire to reciprocate. Imagining lapping between the girl's pussy lips, fingering her cunt, Marianne gave a final shudder of pleasure.
'You did well,' Jill praised as she licked her full red lips, savouring Marianne's slippery cuntal cream as she sat back on her heels, admiring her slave's open sex-gro
ove. 'When you've recovered, I'll take your place and you can attend my pussy with the vibrator - and your lovely wet tongue.'
As Marianne's senses returned, she realized that she was about to be put to the most demanding test yet - to lick another girl's clitoris to orgasm! The thought had aroused her, but now? There's no way out of this one, she mused, wondering what it would be like to bury her face between Jill's hot, wet sex-folds. What would another girl taste like? What would it be like to have another girl's clitoris throbbing in orgasm in her mouth?
When the doorbell rang Marianne breathed easily again, praying that Jill would order her to dress and answer the door before she was forced to commit the forbidden act.
'Who the hell's that?' Jill groaned despondently as the caller persisted. 'Quick, get your skirt and panties on,' she instructed, dashing into the kitchen. Following her mistress and hurriedly dressing, Marianne sat at the table, the bell still resounding around the house as Jill sat opposite and told her to wake up.
'I wonder who that could be,' Marianne smiled sweetly, innocently, as she rose to her feet, sure that it was John. 'Oh, didn't I make you a cup of coffee?'
'No, you... you were just about to. See to the door, and I'll fill the kettle,' Jill smiled nervously, guiltily.
'Okay, I won't be a minute,' Marianne replied as she left the room, her sex-duct oozing with her vaginal come, her mind tortured with guilt.
Opening the door, Marianne was stunned to find Barry standing on the step. 'I forgot my bloody briefcase!' he complained, holding his head. He looked older in his anguish, drained of life - unlike the youthful Jill. 'My door key, papers, bloody everything's in my briefcase.'
'You've got a head like a sieve!' Marianne laughed nervously, imagining him arriving to find Jill vibrating her to orgasm - or John screwing her from behind! 'I'm having a coffee with Jill, do you want one?'
'Yes, I might as well now I'm here. God, Saunders is going to string me up by my balls for this. Oh, by the way, Brooke-Smith is coming to dinner this evening.'
'What? Why didn't you tell me?'
'Because I've only just found out myself. Saunders rang on my mobile, wanting to know where the hell I'd got to, among other things. Anyway, he suggested that, to keep my client sweet, I invite him to dinner.'
'Couldn't Saunders have invited him to dinner?'
'No, I've been dealing with Brooke-Smith for the last year. He's my client so it's all down to me, I'm afraid.'
'Oh, that's great! I've nothing in, Barry.'
'Then go shopping. You've got all bloody day. Christ knows, you do sod-all every day!'
'I don't have work at the moment, do I? Anyway, calm down and come into the kitchen and I'll make the coffee.'
Frowning at Jill, Barry sat at the table and sighed. 'God, life stinks at times,' he complained.
'Life's wonderful,' Jill beamed, the taste of Marianne's love-juices lingering on her tongue, her thoughts on the next session of lesbian lust with her pretty slave.
'Is it?' Barry returned, rubbing his forehead.
'What you need is a housekeeper - someone to do the shopping, the household chores. It would leave you both free to get on with more important things - don't you agree, Marianne?' Jill goaded. 'You need a slave, someone who will do this and that, someone who will follow orders and...'
'Oh, what a good idea!' Marianne interrupted. 'Who do you suggest we employ as a slave?'
'I don't know. Perhaps you have an idea, Barry?'
'Oh yes, I know plenty of slaves! The slave trade is booming at the moment! What the hell are you talking about, Jill? A slave?'
'I was only joking, Barry. Anyway, I'll leave you two love birds to have a row. I'll ring you, Marianne. It was nice... Er... I'll come again. I'll see myself out.'
Barry groaned despondently as Jill left the room and closed the front door behind her. 'Bloody stupid lesbian! A slave, for Christ's sake!'
Lesbian! God, what have I done? 'She was only joking, Barry,' Marianne returned as she placed his coffee cup on the table, aware of her vaginal lips swelling, her clitoris calling for attention again.
'Yes, I know but... Juxtaposition.'
Marianne stood still, praying that Barry wouldn't demand sex as she felt her panties moistening, absorbing her slippery love juices. Staring blankly across the room, she anxiously awaited her master's instructions.
'I want a good spread this evening,' Barry ordered the girl. 'You'll wear that tight black dress you bought - you know, the one that you said was far too short. Red stilettos, hold-up stockings, no bra... I want to impress Brooke-Smith, not only with you coming up with a bloody good meal, but... You'll flirt with him, do you understand? You'll give the dirty old bugger the come-on. I'll leave the room for a while, and you'll flash your tight knickers, pull them aside and show him a bit of cunt. I need this contract, Marianne. You're my slave, you're my key - and you'll help me get it if you have to open your legs and fuck the old fart! This hypnosis thing is going to work well for me, I can see that. What with you being under my control, it's going to bring me all I ever wanted - contracts, money... Right, I must hurry. Now, wake up.'
Her hands trembling, Marianne gazed out of the kitchen window wondering what sort of man Barry really was. Flash your knickers. Show him a bit of cunt lip. Fuck the old fart. Was this contract worth more than her? Would he really use her body as some sort of commodity to get his bloody contract?
'You all right, love?' Barry asked, his voice now gentle, loving.
Bastard!
'Don't worry too much about tonight; I'm sure you'll play the part of a hostess extremely well.'
Play your bloody slave extremely well! 'Are you, Barry? What makes you so sure? What if I fuck up?'
'Of course you won't. All you have to do is prepare a nice meal and smile at the old bugger. Everything will be fine, you'll see. Shit, there goes my mobile. If it's Saunders, I'll...'
As Barry answered his phone and did his yes sir, no sir act, Marianne pondered on his hurtful words. Open your legs and fuck the old fart. Her mind aching, she couldn't believe what he was proposing she do to help him. I mean nothing to him, she reflected sadly. All he's interested in is his contract and making bloody money! As Barry slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and made for the door, Marianne couldn't face him. Stunned, all she could do was gaze out of the window.
'See you this evening, love!' he called as he left the room. 'We'll get here around seven!' he added, closing the front door. Where was the love? she wondered. What had happened to the love and affection? Gone!
John didn't turn up, much to Marianne's relief - no, her disappointment. Spending most of the day wondering about Barry and Jill, her mind became awash with confusion. The last thing she could do was go shopping and then prepare a banquet for Barry and his client!
Her thoughts continually swirled around Jill, the pretty lesbian. The intimacy, the previously unknown closeness, had been nice. Somehow, being another female, there had been a gentleness, a lovingness that Marianne had never experienced before. Barry had always been soft and gentle with her, but in a manly way. Jill's intimate attention, her feminine fingers, her feminine tongue, had felt so right. I'm not a lesbian, Marianne desperately tried to convince herself. Christ, this hypnosis thing is fucking me up!
As the afternoon wore on, Marianne began to realize the implications of her dangerous game. Barry was obviously out to use her for whatever he could get. Jill wanted rampant lesbian sex sessions, and John... This was like a bad dream, she reflected, wondering how one evening could change her life, turn everything upside down. Within a few hours of returning home from the course, her life had changed dramatically.
I'll beat the bastard at his own game, she decided as she slipped into her tight black dress - knickerless and braless. Flattening the silky material over her smooth stomach with her palms, she felt a pang of arousal snake its way through her pelvis. Use me, would you? I'll teach you a thing or two!
Rolling her hold-up stockings up her
legs and slipping her red stilettos on, she decided that she'd follow Barry's instructions to the letter. A bit of cunt lip! She smiled inwardly. I'll show the old pervert more than a bit of cunt lip!
Her long golden locks shining, her make-up impeccable, the dining room table laid, she waited for the Indian takeaway to arrive by taxi. Her plan formulating well, she grinned, imagining Barry leaving her alone with his client for a while. Flirt with him. Give the dirty old bugger the come-on. Barry's words swirled in her mind as she imagined bending over, her taut buttocks on display, her pouting vaginal lips swelling invitingly below her bottom-crease.
She was driven by a terrifying thirst for revenge now. Barry's words had hurt her deeply, they'd stirred emotions - scorn, hatred. I'll teach you a lesson!
Barry's key in the front door lock sent a shiver up Marianne's spine. Her stomach churned, her heart raced. I can't go through with it, she decided, wondering what had happened to the old Marianne. Leaping to her feet as Barry entered the room and introduced Brooke-Smith, she smiled amicably, tugging her dress down to conceal her knickerless pussy.
'Pleased to meet you, Mr Brooke-Smith. Would you like a drink?' she offered.
'Please, call me Jonathan,' the middle-aged man grinned, eyeing the nipples pressing through her tight black dress. 'Scotch and water, please,' he added, perching himself on the arm of the sofa.
'If you'll excuse me for a moment?' Barry said, catching Marianne's eyes. 'I have a phone call to make.'
Marianne sensed Jonathan's amorous gaze on her shapely thighs as she stood with her feet apart and bent over to take the glasses from the cabinet. Suddenly mustering up the courage, her long legs straight, she bent over further, praying that he'd spy her full vaginal lips nestling between her unblemished thighs.
What the hell am I doing? she wondered as her guilt, her shame stabbed her conscience. Displaying the most intimate part of her body to Barry's client was despicable. Her mind racked with confusion again, her heart racing, her clitoris stirring, revenge loomed. Barry's a complete bastard!