by Kara Bryn
My mouth was dry. I was turned on, and I was terrified at the same time. I didn't want this to go any further, but I wouldn't have missed it for the world either.
"You know, I can't…" I started to speak and Natasha placed her lips onto mine for a second to quieten me.
"Every time you're about to say something I don't want to hear, I'm going to do that, okay?" she said. I laughed, nervous and embarrassed.
"Erm, okay," I said, "Well, not ok—" There was another kiss. I smiled.
"Could you do something for me?" Natasha asked me.
"Erm, mayb—" Another kiss.
"Try again," Natahasa said, "Now, would you do something for me?"
"Okay, sure." Natasha nodded her approval.
"Can you undress me?"
My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "What now?" I asked.
She laughed. "Yes now, and later, and whenever you want to. But definitely now."
"But won't…" I realised, too late, that I was just going to be kissed if I tried to protest. Her lips lingered on mine.
"Now my cover with Martin's blown," she said, "I don't want every boy in town thinking he can try to pick me up. I need a story that'll spread so far that nobody thinks I'm straight."
"So you're not really, a, a lesbian?" I asked, confused again.
"Sometimes I am," she answered with the a mischievous smirk.
"And you know, that's the worst excuse for a story I've ever heard." I told her.
Natasha ignored me. Her eyes dropped to the ground and half closed as she leant towards me.
"Undress me. Undress me now." she whispered into my ear.
My heart was racing in my chest and Natasha loosened her hold on me just enough for our bodies to part slightly. My hands moved off her backside and around to the front of her blouse. I slowly unfastened the buttons from the top down with Natasha watching my fumbling fingers. I discovered that, unsurprisingly, she was wearing no bra underneath. I don't think anything will ever match just how surreal an experience this was for me.
I pushed her blouse open, exposing those small, white breasts and the beautiful coloured tattoos that snaked around them. I pushed it off her shoulders, down her arms and onto the floor. She leant towards me again and I felt our nipples touch each other, both pairs hard and erect. My breathing was faster and Natasha let out a long sigh.
I looked over her shoulder. A few people couldn't even pretend that they weren't watching us, me naked, and Natasha now topless.
"I think we're drawing attention," I whispered to Natasha.
"Good", she whispered back, "Now, carry on."
I reached around the hem of her skirt and found a zip down the side. I slid it downwards and the skirt naturally dropped to the floor to pool around her short-heeled white sandals. She had a small pair of white panties underneath. Her eyes closed and a contented smile spread across her face.
Her body pressed into mine again, bare thigh against thigh and her back arched into me.
"You're sure?" I asked, realising it was a daft question. I was already naked, most people had already seen Natasha naked before, and she was virtually naked already.
I was answered with a kiss; so that's what I got for a stupid question.
With her lips on mine, I slid my hands into the back of her panties, around the sides, and pushed down. I felt her thighs wiggle as she shook them down onto the floor. Her embrace tightened around me and her kiss became more passionate. Convincing myself I was just acting along, I ran my hands up her buttocks, across her back, and caressed that beautiful, smooth skin with my fingers. I loved the way her tiny body writhed against mine, and I was starting to see what "sometimes" might feel like.
After what seemed like an age she broke the kiss and her head dropped. "Thank you," she said, "I think we can go now."
I nodded, noticing that the noise level in the room had started to rise again as we were no longer the complete centre of attention. "They've stopped watching," I said, "Well, they've stopped watching a bit. I'm sure they're still admiring your tattoos." Natasha laughed.
"Is this how you thought your day would pan out?" she asked me. It was my turn to laugh.
"Well, not exactly, no."
"Fun, though, isn't it?" I nodded in response: It really was fun.
"Something to repeat?" she asked. This time I shook my head; I couldn't ever imagine a series of events that would lead me here again.
"One last thing?" she asked. I shrugged. I wasn't sure what else there could be. I looked questioningly, not sure whether to agree.
"Just say yes, for once, will you Rupa? I have a fantasy I would love fulfilled, and I can't imagine a better time for it." Natasha seemed suddenly intense, as if she was opening up about something important.
"A fantasy?" I asked, worried what I might be agreeing to, "But that soun—" Her lips landed on mine again. I should have known that any attempt at saying "no" would lead to a kiss.
"Okay," I agred, "Yes! One last thing!"
"There's something in my purse. I want you to wear it," Natasha told me. I wasn't sure what would fit in there that I could wear.
I started to ask a question, but was stopped by a finger on my lips this time.
I twisted around, picked up Natasha's purse and unzipped it. Looking inside I found some money, a phone and then I realised what Natasha was referring to as I found a thin leather choker.
"But this…" I started to have my doubts about this, but her finger silenced me again and Natasha took the choker, reached up and buckled it around my neck. I had been standing for an hour, naked in a room full of clothed men and women, and now, with the choker around my neck, I felt more naked than at any time before. But the overwhelming sensation was now the tingling between my legs.
But Natasha hadn't finished yet. She delved further into the purse and pulled out another long strip of leather cord. She reached behind my neck and I realised she had buckled it to a loophole in the choker. She was holding one end of a leather leash, and I was on the other.
"What did I say I'd do?" she asked with a wink. I still blame the mojitos that I went along with any of it.
"Now we can go," she instructed and, turning me about the waist, she pushed me towards the door. The room fell to silence as I started walking, my stilettoes echoing off the wooden floor. Natasha held the other end of the leash and it hung in a loop between us. I couldn't feel it, but I could feel the choker, and I knew it was there, and I knew the symbol of submission that everyone would see.
I kept walking, eyes forwards, talking small steps so as not to stumble, and, as we moved across the room, groups of people parted to allow us a clear path through. You could have heard a pin drop. It was exhilarating, and I was so close to having an orgasm that I feared I might suddenly explode before I even left the room.
Someone, I don't know who, opened the door, and we walked out into the cool evening air. I heard a few whoops and cheers behind us, and the noise of the room suddenly reached tumultuous levels as everyone was doubtless discussing what had just happened.
"I don't think I can come back here ever again," I said, turning to Natasha.
"I think, while you've got this on, that's up to me, don't you?" she said, and I felt a hand on my buttock guide me towards her car. I trembled at her touch and wondered just how far I was going to let this night run its course, and whether I had the willpower, or even the desire, to stop it.
Helena And Pareia
Pareia walked into the crowded nightclub. She paused at the threshold as her eyes adjusted to the light. A few heads turned, thinking they saw a beautiful, petite woman stride through the doorway but, when they looked, they saw nothing.
They saw because Pareia, as all nymphs were able to do, had chosen not to be seen. She wasn't actually invisible; it's just that she wouldn't allow anyone to see her. She became nothing more than a glimpse out of the corner of a mortal eye.
She looked around the room, knowing exactly who she was looking. She didn't know
her target by name, or by description, but she would know her when she saw her. She had felt her presence even before she walked in.
She started to circle the room, weaving between the dancing couples and groups of men and women talking. All moved out of her way instinctively, without knowing why they moved. Pareia felt goose bumps rise on her arms and she knew she was close. Then, as a group moved aside, Pareia saw her target standing there, alone, at a table at the edge of a room, nervously clutching a wine glass.
The young woman that Pareia studied, like the others before her had done, turned her eyes towards Pareia, and the nymph allowed herself to be seen for a moment as she gave her a mischievous smile. The girl turned her head away in embarrassment, her eyes locked firmly on an unoccupied spot across the room. She was determinedly trying not to look back at Pareia's dark eyes lest her look be misinterpreted as an invitation.
She need not have bothered as Pareia returned to semi-invisibility and studied the girl from across the room. She was small and slim, as small and slim as Pareia, with beautiful golden hair which, as everything about her was, was styled in a way to deflect attention. Her clothes were smart and neat: she was dressed in a loose skirt that finished just below the knee and a cotton blouse, but she looked more like she was ready to teach a school lesson than dance away an evening in a nightclub. The only hint of sexuality that she dared project was from the delicate, strappy heels on her feet. Pareia looked down at her own feet and her own delicate, strappy heels, and smiled to herself: the feet of a nymph were too beautiful to hide from the world.
Pareia walked slowly towards her target, her spine tingling with anticipation. She had done this only a handful of times before in her long life and each time was as thrilling as the last. If anything, each time was more thrilling than the last, as she knew exactly what was going to happen. Well, maybe not quite exactly, but that was part of the thrill.
Pareia circled the young woman, who remained oblivious to her attentions, and eyed her up and down. She could sense the turmoil inside her: this one was going to be fun. The girl in the plain outfit was trying so hard to hide her nature that bringing it out was going to be all the more rewarding.
Stopping beside her, Pareia touched the girl's forearm lightly with her fingers. The young woman looked around with a start, wondering how she hadn't noticed someone encroaching into her precious personal space. Her eyes went wide as she recognised the woman that she had exchanged a glance with across the room.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Pareia said with a hint of a southern European accent, "My foot slipped." Pareia's fingers remained resting on Helena's arm, feeling the tension growing within the young girl, but Pareia now knew everything she needed to know.
The woman in front of her was called Helena. She was here tonight with a friend, Jennifer, but the friend was currently enjoying the attentions of a young Greek man somewhere else in the nightclub. Helena, as always, had been left alone, standing almost invisible at the edge of the nightclub, wishing that she was not here at all.
In fact, Pareia knew more about Helena than Helena knew herself. She could feel the nymph within her, the spirit that Helena had spent her whole life denying. It may have come through her mother, or her grandmother, but it was there nonetheless. It was the reason that Helena was standing alone at the edge of the room when she could so easily be the centre of attention. She was trying so hard to supress the nymph, although she didn't know it, that she was almost as invisible to the others in the room as Pareia could make herself.
It was this nymph spirit that Pareia had come to release. She could feel the tension within Helena; she could feel how long it had been since Helena had had any kind of sexual encounter, and the stronger the desires within the young woman grew, the more she struggled to supress them.
Helena's eyes remained locked on Pareia's. She felt as if she were being hypnotised by those dark pupils. Hypnotism was close to the truth and Pareia's power gradually took hold of her.
Pareia took her hand away from Helena's arm and returned to her unnoticeable state. Helena's eyes drifted to focus on the middle distance in the nightclub, almost forgetting the momentary encounter. Pareia had made her forget it. But, now that they had touched, Pareia could hear every thought running through Helena's head.
"Why am I here," Helena was wondering, "Why am I standing here alone? How come no-one talks to me? But then, if someone talked to me, wouldn't that be terrible too?" She both craved attention and shied from it.
And unbeknownst to Helena, she had entered the same state as Pareia: no longer was she barely visible to those around her, now no-one could see her if they tried. Or rather, no-one would be conscious of her presence, which was the same end result.
Pareia smiled; this was just the start.
"How long has it been, Helena?" Pareia asked her. She knew she would not be heard, but was merely planting the seed of the question within the girl's mind.
"A long time," was the whispered reply.
Pareia could feel the truth of it. So ashamed was Helena of her urges that she had even come to view masturbation as an act to be avoided. She indulged herself only when she could hold off no longer and it had been weeks since she had felt the release of orgasm.
As the thought crossed Helena's mind, Pareia felt the energy rise within the girl. She watched Helena's chest rise and fall as her breathing quickened.
"Tonight," Pareia whispered, "It must be tonight."
Helena felt the voice within her head but heard it as her own. Her hand almost reached down between her legs in response to the tingling sensation there. "Fuck it," she thought, "As soon as I get back to the hotel. If no-one here wants me, then see to myself." Even in her own mind her language skirted around the subject.
Helena's cheeks flushed at the thought of touching herself again, and her mind felt ashamed of the impulse. Her face felt as if it was burning up and her heart pounded within her chest. She looked around the room, expecting faces to be staring at her as her arousal grew, but no-one was paying her so much as a second look.
"If only they knew," Pareia said softly beside her and then, gently, she blew at Helena's earlobe. She saw a tremble in response.
Without knowing she was doing it, Helena's hands ran up and down her hips, feeling their firmness and the gentle curve into her narrow waist. When the mood overcame her it could come quickly, but it had never felt this fast before. She suddenly felt as if she was going to explode.
"Can you feel the heat?" Pareia spoke again, a smile on her face. Helena was being carried along by every suggestion.
"Yes…" was the shuddered breath of a reply. Pareia again blew, but this time onto Helena's neck. The girl shuddered as she exhaled and Pareia saw that her eyes were almost closed. Without thinking, Helena's hands reached up and unfastened the top two buttons of her blouse. She flapped at the loose fabric to wash air over her chest. Pareia walked around to her front and blew on her bare skin. A long sigh escaped from Helena's lips.
"The heat… the insufferable heat…" Pareia said quietly.
"But the crowd… "Helena's consciousness replied. Pareia saw that she needed a gentle push.
"No-one is watching," Helena thought her mind said in reply.
"No-one ever pays any attention anyway," Helena said to herself with a sneer. The inhibition dropped as she continued to unbutton her blouse, flapping the fabric for air as she did so. Pareia smiled to herself. "But let's see them ignore this," Helena said to herself and pushed the blouse off of her shoulders onto the floor.
Her skin was soft and smooth, framed by a white lace bra, and Pareia blew across her delicate neck and shoulders, cooling the rising passion of the young girl as a reward for her boldness. Revelling in the feeling, Helena stretched her arms high above her head, her eyes closed. The realisation that she was standing in a crowded nightclub in her bra crept back into her mind and her eyes opened suddenly.
"No-one is watching," Pareia planted in her mind, and Helena looked around and saw that, indeed,
not a soul was paying attention to her. She stretched her arms up again, enjoying the feeling of freedom and the air across her stomach, her back and her chest. The spell was almost broken as one of a group of men looked sharply in her direction, but then it seemed as if he were looking straight past her and, shaking his head at his own mistake, he went back to talking to his friends.
Helena looked down at her chest and her bra. Was no-one going to pay her any attention, not even like this?
Pareia put the thought out of her mind: she wanted her to concentrate on herself, not on others.
"Doesn't that feel good," she whispered, meaning it as she did.
"Mmmm," came a barely audible reply from Helena. The freedom was liberating and pushed out any questions she had as to what exactly she was doing.
"Just think…" Pareia prompted, planting an image of Helena standing at the centre of attentive admirers in the girl's mind.
"Mmmm," was the reply again, and Helena's hands again rubbed up her sides and down her thighs as she trembled.
Pareia released a long, gentle breath at the back of Helena's neck but, this time, rather than cooling the girl, it unlocked more of that passionate heat contained within her.
"So hot," she heard Helena whisper, her breath shuddering. Pareia breathed onto her again and Helena found herself unfastening the button on her skirt, sliding the zip down, and letting it drop to the floor. Part of Helena wondered what she was doing, why she was standing in her underwear in a crowded nightclub, but just as quickly she ignored the thought. The need to cool herself, to feel free, overrode all else.
Pareia released another breath, and Helena's hands wandered up and down her body, across her stomach, over the fabric of her bra, down to her white knickers. She allowed Helena to dwell on the thought of standing in her underwear, caressing her body in the crowded room, and she blocked out all of the reasons that she should stop.
The nymph spirit was well and truly awake now, and Helena's hands continued to move across her skin. Months, even years, of tension were finding a release.
Pareia sent another long, shallow breath onto Helena's neck and, without conscious thought, the young woman put her hands behind her back and unfastened her bra, instantly enjoying the release of tension. She shrugged it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Pareia smiled as she admired the young, firm breasts and Helena's erect nipples.