by Sacchi Green
The girl wore a short plaid schoolgirl skirt but was topless. She had very small breasts with petite pink nipples, almost boylike. The waistband of the skirt sat low on her hips, exposing her navel and the curve of her waist as well as the slightly rounded shape of her abdomen.
“I don’t play with girls.” Neela removed her toe from under the girl’s chin.
Still kneeling, she looked up at Neela. “But then, this girl wonders why Ma’am would come tonight. Um, this girl means no disrespect.”
“God, stop with the third person; I can’t stand that stuff! What’s your name?”
“This girl is called, I mean, my name is Chantal, Ma’am.”
“Better. Okay Chantal, now what are you talking about? I come here all the time. Why wouldn’t I want to come tonight?” Neela’s eyes swept over the tasty mocha form of the girl still on her knees on the floor. She had honey-colored hair swept up into a messy bun on the top of her head, and striking olive-green eyes.
“Well, because it’s girls’ night. Sorry, Ma’am. I mean, it’s the second Saturday. The second Saturday is always girls’ night. This girl just thought—I mean I just thought, I mean you were so beautiful—I mean you are so beautiful and I’ve seen you here on other nights and I had hoped because I was so excited to see you tonight I thought maybe you’d like… I just thought, wow, ’cause you came on the second Saturday and maybe you didn’t want just boys and ’cause I always saw you and thought you were so hot and I…I’m sorry, I’ll go.”
Chantal’s lips were full and pink; she licked them and they glistened. She wore no makeup. Neela wanted to drink the girl’s skin, it was so clear. She reached out and stroked her cheek. “No, it’s all right. Stay.” Her hand moved down to Chantal’s chin and her fingers found those lips, brushing and parting them as she rested a final finger on the girl’s lower lip.
“How old are you, Chantal?”
“Twenty-three, Ma’am.”
Twenty-three. The walls of Neela’s cunt tingled. She was just a girl—and not only that, she was a girl—a girl with a rather boyish figure, but definitely a girl. Neela let her hand slide down the girl’s neck onto her chest. Her fingers lightly traced over Chantal’s nipple before she leaned in to lick it. Withdrawing slightly, she blew on the wet nipple and watched it crinkle and stiffen.
Chantal’s eyes closed and she mumbled, “Thank you, Ma’am,” more to herself than aloud.
Neela smiled and pinched the nipple between her fingernails. The girl’s eyes flew open, and she said, quite plainly, “Thank you, Ma’am.”
Well, maybe this once…It wasn’t like she’d never thought of playing with girls, it was just that the opportunity had never arisen before, or she hadn’t been looking for it. She’d been mourning the loss of Sam and hadn’t played in a long time. She’d come out tonight for a release, and she was going to get one, goddamnit.
“Chantal, why do you want to play with me?”
“This girl…”
“Bup, bup, bup.” Neela put her finger on the girl’s lips. “What did I say?”
“Sorry, Ma’am. I forgot.”
“So? Why me?”
“Well, this—I’ve watched you on other nights playing with your boy, and you’re just so beautiful and kinda scary, sort of… And whenever I see you play, I always imagine that I’m your boy. I could be your boy, if you gave this girl, I mean me a chance…I could be…”
“You’re very sweet. Who taught you to use that affected third-person crap? Is there someone whose permission you need to play with me? I won’t play with someone else’s property without an invite.”
“No, Ma’am, I don’t belong to anyone, not anymore. I did, but now I don’t. I just…” She looked like she was about to cry, but instead, she lowered her eyes and began again. “I used to belong to a mistress in Boston. She said that slaves didn’t have any rights and weren’t really people, so they should never use the I word when referring to themselves. She said they should never refer to themselves at all, unless their mistress made them, and then to show the proper respect by referring to themselves as property. She made sure we learned.”
“How come you’re not with her anymore?”
“I guess she got tired of me. She drove me to New York and left me at this club.”
“What do you mean? When did she leave you here? How long ago?”
“Three months. I used to come here every night, waiting for her to come back, but then I saw you.”
Neela watched the tears begin to roll down Chantal’s face. Her heart went out to the girl. “Here now, you come sit up here with me,” she said, patting her lap. She put her arm around the girl’s shoulder and let the young slave snuggle against her neck. “That woman was an idiot. I really can’t stand people like that. Now, no more of that referring to yourself in third person. Not with me. I don’t like it.” She patted the girl’s thighs. “So you want to play with me, huh? I’m used to playing with boys, you know; I play rough.”
“Yes, Ma’am, this girl likes it rough. I really like it rough.”
“Mm, mm, mm, that’s another slip. What are we going to do to make you remember that you’re a person? I think a spanking’s in order here,” Neela said, smiling, her eyes twinkling.
A wide grin split Chantal’s face, and she nodded her head. “Yes, Ma’am, I think you’re absolutely right.” She bent over and slid down until she was lying across Neela’s lap and flipped her schoolgirl skirt up.
As Neela expected, Chantal wasn’t wearing underwear. She had a perfect, round bottom, and Neela could just see her cleanly shaved pussy lips peeking out from between her legs. There were a few fading bruises on her cheeks and the backs of her thighs.
The first smack landed squarely in the middle of one cheek. She bounced a little, but otherwise made no sound. Neela landed another on the opposite cheek and then proceeded to cover the girl’s bottom in light spanks until it bore a uniform pink blush and began to take on some heat. She moved her hand down between Chantal’s legs to run her fingers over the girl’s sex. So smooth, so different from a boy’s sex. Chantal was obviously turned on, and feeling the girl’s excitement excited Neela.
“You really are a very naughty little girl, aren’t you? You’re all wet down here.” Neela grabbed the girl’s cunt and squeezed until Chantal squeaked and the juices ran out between Neela’s fingers.
Neela’s spanks rained harder and harder on the girl’s bottom while she ran her fingers through the girl’s wet slit. She smelled the fragrance of the girl’s arousal and noted that it was different from her own—similar, but different. The scent was a heady one, especially as she knew that she’d caused it. She sank her middle finger inside. It was a lovely, warm, moist feeling, but different than masturbating. The girl’s muscles contracted against her finger, and Neela found herself warmed by the human connection. She slid her index finger inside to join her middle finger.
“Oh, thank you, Ma’am,” Chantal moaned. She alternately pushed her bottom up to receive the smacks and thrust back against Neela’s hand. Neela gently pressed and caressed the wall of the girl’s hot, wet interior, over and over.
She felt the girl freeze against her legs, and then begin to squirm. Without changing the motion of her fingers, she stopped spanking. “What’s the matter, little girl? Why so squirmy?” she said with a low chuckle.
“Please, Ma’am, may this girl come?”
SMACK! “What?”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, but please, Ma’am, I have to come. Please.”
“I don’t think I should let you come. You obviously haven’t learned your lesson.” She slowly removed her fingers from the girl’s cunt.
“Nooooo…”
“Oh, please. What, you thought this was about you? Poor little subby-girl—thinks she gets to come after ten minutes of playing. Right! No, I think you’d better come with me,” Neela said, setting the girl on her feet and taking hold of her wrist. “Now, what shall I do with you? Ah, I know.” Holding on to the girl, s
he strode purposefully toward the back of the club.
“Where are we going, Ma’am?” Chantal followed along behind with an ever-widening smile plastered to her face until Neela finally stopped in front of an unoccupied massage table.
“All right girl, hop up here and get comfortable. I don’t think we need this skirt right now, do we?” Neela took the skirt, folded it, and put it on a nearby bench. She attached the girl’s ankles to cuffs at the sides of the table, spreading her legs as wide as the table would allow.
Chantal sat up to watch as her legs were fastened to the table. When Neela finished, she turned around and put her palm against the girl’s chest. Once Chantal was flat against the table again, Neela fastened her wrists to cuffs at the top of the table.
“I’m going to examine you. I’ve examined lots of boys, but never a girl. With you fastened and spread like this, I can take my time and get a good look at you.” She could see that her words were having their effect on the girl as Chantal began to squirm against her restraints a bit and her breathing quickened.
“Look at these pretty little nipples.” As she spoke, before she could even touch them, they both crinkled and stiffened. “Oh, that’s so sweet, they’re getting themselves ready for me.” She lightly ran her fingers over both nipples at the same time.
Chantal shuddered.
Neela traced circles around and around the girl’s areolas, making sure the nipples were as hard as they were going to get before pinching them between her thumbs and forefingers. She started out with a minimum of pressure, but gradually increased it until the girl moaned. She pulled them up, stretching Chantal’s breasts and elongating her nipples.
“You have such sweet little breasts, almost like a boy’s, but different.” She pulled a little farther, finally letting the nipples slip from her grasp. Red and distended, they were irresistible to her, and she bent to run her tongue over the nearest one to the sounds of Chantal’s soft moans.
Neela worried the nipple and its surrounding flesh with her tongue before backing away slightly and blowing on it. Placing her mouth back over it, she lightly bit the tiny nub of flesh with her teeth. Chantal rocked her body from side to side in response.
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“You taste sweet and fresh.” Neela closed her mouth over the girl’s breast and roughly grabbed the other in her hand, squeezing it while she sucked and licked the breast in her mouth. She watched the girl’s body. The more pressure she put on Chantal’s breasts, the higher the girl raised her hips off the table.
Neela liked the feel of the girl’s breast in her mouth. Again, it was different from a boy’s breast; soft, where a boy’s breast was firm; smooth, where a boy’s skin was slightly more textured. It was somehow—inviting.
Neela was brought back to reality by the sound of the girl’s bottom smacking the table as she pumped her hips up and down. Neela heard the word “Please” several times before pulling her leather crop out of her bag and smacking the girl’s wet breast three times in quick succession.
“Relax, I’m not finished with you yet.”
Chantal whimpered and squirmed on the table. Neela softly ran her fingers over the girl’s torso, moving to her sides to encircle her small waist. Chantal’s curves, while understated, were still different from Neela’s experience. She loved the feel of the girl’s waist and the fact that it was so small.
She positioned her hands on Chantal’s abdomen so that her fingers pointed toward her feet. She let the flat of her palms trace the natural V formed between the girl’s legs. She squeezed the soft skin and tendons where Chantal’s legs joined her body and saw a bit of moisture escape between her pussy lips. Chantal was probably drenched—Neela certainly was—and she wanted to dip her fingers inside to check, but instead she moved them back up to the top of the girl’s shaved pubes. Pressing with her fingers, she pulled up, toward Chantal’s waist, and her slit elongated, causing the lips to draw closer to each other.
“Oh, please, Ma’am,” Chantal moaned.
Ignoring that, Neela slapped the top of the girl’s pussy several times, until it took on a lovely rosy color and the moisture squished out from between the lips to splash under her hand. Not until then did she insinuate a finger between the labia. She explored the girl’s clit, which had become more prominent, and listened to her heaving breaths. She gently pinched the nub of flesh and rolled it between her fingers before leaving it and moving on.
A whine escaped Chantal, which turned into a groan as a finger pushed itself inside her pussy. Neela couldn’t believe how wet the girl was. She slid another finger inside, pumping in and out several times, listening to the squishing sound she made. Neela began slowly moving the girl’s lubrication out of her pussy and down toward her anus as she pumped. Over and over, she brought moisture from the girl’s sex to her anus. Neela found the scent of Chantal’s arousal overpowering. As soon as the girl was lubricated enough, Neela pushed a finger inside her ass as she went down on her pussy. There was something about this girl. Neela had never been interested in the taste of pussy before, but she felt compelled to taste Chantal.
Chantal’s hips thrust up off the table, pressing hard against Neela’s mouth as she stabbed at the girl’s opening with her tongue, drinking her juices. The taste was almost overpowering. Neela held her finger still in Chantal’s ass while she pounded her pussy with her tongue. She moved her tongue up to press against the side of Chantal’s clit and the girl immediately came, her limbs stiffening and vibrating uncontrollably as Neela continued the pressure against her clit.
Finally, Chantal’s spasms subsided. Neela withdrew her mouth and slowly removed her finger from the girl’s ass.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Chantal said.
Neela kissed Chantal, painting the girl’s face with her own juices. Exploring Chantal’s mouth with her tongue, she realized that it was the first time she’d ever kissed a girl like this. The combined taste of the girl’s mouth and her musk were sweet beyond measure. Neela’s clit throbbed with need. “It’s all right, girl. Would you like to come home with me tonight?”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Would you?”
“Oh, yes, Ma’am, yes please.”
Neela began unfastening the girl’s restraints. “Fine, then we can talk about what you’ll need to do to make up for coming without permission.” She felt like she was swimming in her own juices. Thoughts of Chantal’s mouth fastened to her pussy as she came over and over again made her want to rush to get the girl dressed and back to her apartment.
Once Chantal was standing, Neela embraced her and kissed her again, sliding her hands down over the schoolgirl skirt and under it, caressing the girl’s bottom until she finally broke the kiss and slapped Chantal’s ass. “Let’s go.”
OPENING NIGHT
Charlotte Dare
Her spiky black hair shone purple under the stage lights, and her movements were graceful as a dancer’s. The night of auditions for Neil Simon’s Rumors, Mari delivered the lines for Chris in a throaty drawl that would’ve made Kathleen Turner jealous. I couldn’t peel my eyes off of her. The newest member of the Shoreline Players had a stage presence sure to steal every scene.
Throughout our six-week rehearsal schedule, I found myself shadowing Mari at every opportunity, chalking it up to professional admiration. In my early twenties, community theater was more than a creative outlet. It was an escape from myself, the chance to be someone else under the noble disguise of artistic expression. I may have been fooling myself, but looking back, Mari had me pegged from our first read-through.
“We have a great cast,” she said as we left the theater. “You’re going to make a wonderful Cassie.”
“Thanks,” I said, “but I can’t picture myself as the perky newlywed type. Of course, I don’t tell my boyfriend that.”
She nodded with mild amusement. “He must enjoy watching you perform.”
“Eh,” I began, tilting my hand from s
ide to side. “But after sitting through Macbeth and The Winter’s Tale, he said he’ll be glad to see me in a play he can understand.”
She smirked. “He’s not a fan of high art?”
“Sadly, no,” I said. “Unless it involves watching guys try to get a ball from one place to another, Jason’s not interested. But he does do a good job faking it.”
Mari chuckled as she twirled her car keys. “How does he feel about you spending so much time at rehearsals?”
“Not crazy about the idea. He doesn’t come right out and say it, but he gives plenty of subtle clues.” Before I knew it, Mari had walked me to my car under an orangey streetlight.
“Well, I wouldn’t let anyone persuade you off the stage. From what I’ve seen, you’re very talented.” Her smile was forceful, and her eyes lingered on mine for an uncomfortably long time.
“Thanks.” I felt my face flush. When she walked off to her car, I just stood there watching her. For the first time in years, I hadn’t had to justify refusing to give up the stage to meet someone else’s emotional needs.
I followed the taillights of Mari’s Prius for about two miles until she took a right at a stop sign and they disappeared into the night. For a split second I actually thought of following to see where she lived. I should’ve known right then that something was happening, but the blinders were still securely in place.
By the end of the first week of rehearsals, I was getting more butterflies in my stomach waiting for Mari to walk in than I did thinking about opening night.
“How’s it going, Cassie,” she whispered as she plunked down in the chair I’d saved for her by throwing my leg across it.
“Hiya Chris.” I smiled like a fool as I pretended to listen to the director drone on.
“Does anybody have any questions before we block the last scene in Act One?” he asked. “I know we’re moving fast, but I want to start running the show as soon as possible.”
