Pagan Dreams

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “I’m sorry I kept those things from you. They were really unimportant.”

  “Well, you paid, just as you will pay again. It’s too bad that you have such rules for your life. I can lie more easily than you and not be ashamed of myself. You’re just too damned honest.”

  “So, you lie to me?” I ask.

  “Not really, but I may not tell you the whole truth about everything. I don’t see things in black and white the way you do, just lots of shaded colors.”

  She twists a finger through my hair; now and again she strokes my face as it rests against her belly. She’s both soft and firm there, the perfect cushion for my head. I like lying here, close to the pulsing center of her body. I love the way she smells after sex.

  I would start with her again, but I’m exhausted. Being punished isn’t easy; it takes a lot out of both of us. Though what we’re left with is a curious peace, the kind that only comes when you go through something savage with someone and come out together laughing; there’s still a hint of fear residing in your belly, and you know you don’t want to go back to that cruel place again… even though you likely will.

  “We have to clean this mess, Peach,” I tell her.

  “Tomorrow,” she says.

  “We were going to leave tonight,” I remind her.

  “Not now,” she says adamantly.

  Two hours pass, bathed in the light of a setting sun and its grayness, I’m reminded of the reason we’re leaving until September and my impatience starts again. I wish we were leaving tonight, but it’s too late when the bags are not yet packed, and our clothes and food and everything else lie strewn everywhere. It’ll will wait for tomorrow. I think of a thousand things that we need to do, while I see Peach sleeping peacefully. I let her sleep, while I get up and begin to work.

  Chapter Five

  The road north winds along through California countryside, through hills that are dry and parched by May. They were green in the spring. But now, early June, they’re golden, dotted with stunning oaks, which populate vistas as easygoing as the occasional cattle and sheep that graze lazily beside them.

  I have my hand on Peach’s thigh as we drive. The wind whips our hair. The air is warm but not searing today. I’m thankful for fresh breezes, the ocean working in our favor with its mild blanket of winds. The haze of the city is gone by the time we are beyond Ventura. This fine day clears out the oppression in my head, so I can breathe freely again. For a while I rest my head against the back of the seat and let myself be soothed.

  Peach takes a side road off the main highway, which winds off through a gentle landscape of farms and open space. We’re thinking we’ll stay at a B&B Peach knows, nestled somewhere amidst the hills near San Luis Obispo; but for now, we’re off the main road, looking for somewhere we can picnic and relax before we begin again.

  I’m thinking sexual thoughts already, and assume that Peach will respond favorably the way she seems to squirm a little as I stroke her thigh.

  The little meadow park she finds is deserted on a Monday afternoon. We hike to a spot just behind a huge oak were we spread a blanket and begin to eat. We eat in silence as there’s still some uneasy thoughts between us about the night before. When Peach finally woke after sex, she helped me pack. We laughed, because I wasn’t ready to tell her how much I loved the rude way she treated me. I wasn’t ready to tell her how the spanking felt like perfect justice, that even her anger had been a fine thing. I’m still not ready to talk about it. In fact, I’ll push it aside, forever if possible, though I doubt I’ll be that lucky with Peach so eagerly inside my mind.

  While we’re not completely out of sight behind this old tree, we feel bold enough along the deserted road for me to spread my legs and let Peach eat dessert at my cunt. She does so letting her mouth glide over my wet slit. After she laps for a while, I turn around so we’re cunt to mouth and mouth to cunt. I plan a long lingering suck. “We should do this every day,” I say.

  “We do,” Peach reminds me.

  “I mean outside, like this. A month this way and I’ll be completely healed from all my depression.”

  I climb on top of her with my pussy in her face. I love the way my ass wiggles in the cool breeze, the way the sun bathes my backside as she licks me.

  I bring her off first as she bucks against my probing face. Then I let my pussy settle in against her demanding tongue while her hands reach up to grab my ass and claw it with her fingernails. My body races to a smashing climax.

  I cum against the backdrop of an unexpected roaring noise. It jars me from my pleasure too quickly as I realize something alien is violating our serenity. Two women on bikes roar through our peaceful glen, disturbing the tranquility with a fierce wail of noxious engines.

  I come to my senses realizing that my ass still sways lewdly in the air. I rush to roll off of Peach and pull my skirt to cover my exposed posterior. I imagine it’s marked with red lines I’d find embarrassing to show off. I toss Peach her shorts, then quickly stand up to face the approaching women. They are smiling; there’s a softness in the brow of one, but the other is dangerously hard looking despite the smile. Her thin lean body works out daily, I’m certain. She wears a sleeveless shirt that shows off her strong arms, and a pair of leather jeans, that hug her slim hips.

  “Nice place, huh,” the hard woman speaks first.

  “We just finished lunch,” I say, “we’re ready to move on.”

  “Where are you going?” the softer woman asks. She’s broad about the shoulders, with a large bosom and fine rounded hips—a fitting contrast to her friend. Her long brown hair flows about her shoulders from underneath her helmet.

  “We’re going north, no where special,” I tell her. I’m suspicious of their intentions; women like them are risks for me.

  Dressed again, Peach rises and walks up behind me. Her arm drapes easily around me, showing ownership.

  “Thought you might want to spend time with us,” the hard woman states. “The name’s Cozinne. This is Donna.” She points to her larger friend then extends her hand to me. Her hand is hot in the leather glove though I feel a cold chill when she touches me.

  “We’ve got to be on our way,” Peach says. “We need to be a couple hundred miles up the road tonight, meeting friends.” She has an easy, pleasant believable smile.

  “Too bad,” Cozinne returns. “You have one hot ass.”

  I blush at her crude compliment.

  When we’re back in the Jeep and on our way, I breathe easier. Peach laughs off my trepidation, though I know she’s as relieved as I am. We’ve likely jumped to wrong conclusions, but neither of us want anyone else in our bed, at least that’s what I presume. I think it’s better if we don’t talk about the incident.

  We drive nearly seventy-five miles to Gram’s.

  Peach tells me about the woman’s tavern with a ready gleam in her eyes. I haven’t heard about the place before but then we haven’t traveled together like this. Having lived on the coast all her life, Peach knows these hills well, while they’re still new to me.

  Gram’s is a womyn’s bar. There’s no sign outside the two story farmhouse except the small one by the door. The backsides of two women carved arm in arm into a piece of aging wood suggest the nature of this place. As we enter, I share smiles with the few women there, relaxing easily into the comfort of the place.

  Peach tells me Gram’s has been around for years as a welcome haven for weary travelers. We order two beers and some chips while we listen to the mellow music in the background. We decide not to stay long since Peach wants to be at the B&B before it’s dark. Yet, as we’re about to leave, the two bikers, Cozinne and Donna, walk through the door. They spot us right away as if they’re expecting to find us. Perhaps they recognized the Jeep outside. I shudder. Peach simply smiles at them invitingly.

  “Not in such a hurry, I see,” Cozinne comments, eyebrows raised. Walking toward our table, she sits down. Donna follows close behind and plops down next to the other woman.

/>   “We were just getting ready to leave,” Peach tells her, though I’m surprised by my lover’s congeniality. She remains settled in her chair as if she’s planning a long visit. I wonder if I’m nervous for no reason.

  “What’s the rush among friends?” Cozinne asks.

  “Nothing I suppose, but why the interest?” Peach asks. She’s always told me it’s best to take the most direct route to the truth.

  “You look adventurous,” Donna says, “making love by the side of the road, that’s the kind of risk that interests us.”

  “But we don’t play around with other women,” I tell them, trying to be as direct as Peach would be.

  “Well, we haven’t, but that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t,” Peach says to my surprise.

  Cozinne’s face lightens in a dark sort of way, her interest piqued.

  “I thought we had plans,” I say icily, wondering what the hell Peach thinks she’s doing.

  “Nothing’s written in stone,” she tells me, smiling broadly. She places her hand gently on my thigh as if to reassure me.

  “Has she been your slut long?” Cozinne asks, talking directly to Peach while she refers to me. She talks like I’m the submissive, Peach my dom.

  “We don’t see it that way,” I counter quickly.

  Peach rubs her hand against my thigh, though it’s doing little to quell my fears. Cozinne ignores me, as if I’m not even there. I don’t understand what’s happening, especially why Peach is so strangely interested in these two. I eye Donna for a moment, while she, too, looks at my lover. Openly alluring and genuinely sweet, I wonder why she’s with Cozinne. The two appear to be so opposite, but then maybe that’s what they see in Peach and me.

  The more I look at Donna, the more I find myself wondering what it would be like to run my hand against her soft face, what it would feel like to have her generous lips pressed against mine. They’re full and soft and wet now from the beer. I’m surprised that my body responds so favorably, so quickly.

  “Cassidy goes slowly,” I hear Peach explaining me to them.

  “Oh, but we’re very gentle,” Cozinne says.

  I don’t believe her; I wouldn’t trust her for a second.

  “There’s a spot behind this place, quiet, secluded, no one will stop us,” Cozinne suggests.

  Peach’s eyes are glowing lustily. “What did you have in mind?”

  The hard woman looks at Peach, then me, then back to Peach. She has an expression of mirth on her joyless face that gives an evil quality to her look. “Let Donna take her out back and I’ll tell you,” she offers.

  “But…” I object.

  Peach squeezes my thigh firmly and whispers in my ear, “Remember how much you’ve wanted three women? Just think how it will feel.”

  The eroticism is genuine, I feel it between my legs and in my abdomen where a sharp spasm of erotic anticipation shoots all through me. This is such a brash thing to do.

  “Take her out back,” Cozinne tells Donna. The other woman rises and waits for me as I reluctantly agree to follow her. She takes my hand and leads me out the back door and down a grassy path toward a glen of oak trees. It’s hardly a woods, but the further we go away from Gram’s the more secluded it becomes. It’s a perfect hiding place; much more private than the place Peach and I played earlier.

  Unprepared for what is to take place, I’m caught off guard as Donna suddenly pins me with her body against a massive tree. Her large hands clasp mine in hers and holds them tightly. Her mouth descends readily over my lips, and I tremble at the odd juxtaposition of tender and harsh, all accomplished in the same movement. She’s forceful, though her lips are soft, and I find myself grinding my hips against hers without even thinking.

  “I saw you naked,” she says pulling back. She begins to unbutton my blouse. “But I didn’t see these.” She grabs my two breasts in her hands and leans down to bury her face in them. I’m at her mercy as soon as I feel her hot breath on my skin. She reminds me so much of Peach the way she plays with me. I imagine them both, one on either side of me, making love to my body, taking me at once, probing me with two sets of ardent hands.

  Donna jerks at the waistband of my skirt and yanks it down, so I’m nearly naked. The blouse falls open and the skirt is gone altogether as it lies haplessly in the dust at our feet. She kneels down between my legs and attacks my throbbing pussy. I gasp as I grind myself against her face. The suddenness of her moves is erotic in itself. I feel used, but happily so, and for a moment I lose myself in the wildness.

  Before I realize what’s happening next, Cozinne is there holding my hands tightly in hers. She loops a strap around them and throws the other end over a branch above.

  “What are you doing?” I look for Peach, but she’s not there, at least not so I can see. Donna still eats away at my pussy lips so that the rush of fear racing through me is mixed with potent arousal. I don’t know whether to scream or not.

  “Look, she’s wearing a ring,” Donna tells the other woman. She backs away enough for Cozinne to see the glint of gold at my clit.

  “Ah, how sweet, as if she’s been claimed. I like that touch. Perhaps you need one too, my little lamb,” she says smiling devilishly at her lover. She then reaches in and tugs at my ring, pulling it so hard it hurts and I cry out.

  “Oooo not too much noise, my dear, you’ll wake the natives.”

  “Why do you have her tied?” I hear Peach say from behind me.

  “Because it stimulates her, look how she sweats,” Cozinne tells her. “She’d flooding down below, the little slut.”

  Donna returns to my pussy, the pleasure mounting, even as I fear what Cozinne will do next.

  “Here, use this in her ass,” Cozinne says, handing Peach a thick butt plug. “If she doesn’t stop moaning like that, I’ll gag her. Tell her,” she orders.

  I hear Cozinne clearly, but Peach turns to me with a gentle smile. She places a finger over her lips. “Shush, you’ll be all right.” I don’t believe her, especially since I see the trepidation in her eyes. She didn’t expect the bondage, but she’s willing to continue. “Give in to this love you’ve wanted it… remember?” Is she reassuring me or herself? I wonder.

  She pulls me away from the tree enough to get behind me, while Donna continues to suck my cunt. I feel the grease at my backdoor first and then the butt plug presses against my anus. I’m too tense, so it doesn’t easily give way.

  “Easy, Cass, you can take this, just remember last night.” Peach works my ass with deft sure fingers, and then tries the plug again. I whimper as the huge thing is forced past my tight sphincter on its way deep inside my interior.

  “Ooooo please.” It sends a nasty pain through my rear.

  Cozinne slaps my face. “You were told to be quiet,” she seethes. She stuffs something in my mouth, some pungent smelling cloth. “Don’t make a sound, pretty lady, unless you want a real audience.” She looks all the more evil as hardness mutates to cruelty.

  Just as I become accustomed to the butt plug, Donna inserts a dildo in my cunt. “Look how she’s dripping,” she says admiring the arousal I can’t hide. This rips me apart, these two violating pricks; my legs must spread wider still to accommodate them. This looks all the more lewd in Cozinne’s eyes.

  “I knew we had a slut whore here. Is this shocking you? What you’ll do for a good time between your legs. Your lover needs to pass you around more. Give you the good time you really want.” I’d spit at her if I weren’t gagged, but I can only flash my eyes in hatred. “What a look you have on your face, slut. Too bad I don’t have a camera to take a picture of your torment?” She mocks me so I can’t stand to look at her anymore.

  She takes a thin branch from a nearby sapling, and strips it down to a long lean switch with hard nubs all along its surface, where the leaves had been. “I bet you like pain,” she asserts in the same mocking tone. I flinch as she snaps the switch against my breasts. I look down to see the red imprint across my flesh. She rears back again and the switch lan
ds with a rude jolt against my nipples. I squeal behind the gag. My muted noise is enough to infuriate Cozinne and she lashes me again twice in rapid fire.

  “You don’t learn, do you?” she says nastily.

  I cringe as she wields the nasty bough another half dozen times against my breasts. They bob against my chest as searing hot pain shoots through me. It only makes me wriggle all the more against the two pronged attack between my legs. With Donna’s tongue lavishing itself on my hard clit, I can’t deny the way this makes my body jolt excitedly. I look down at my chest to see flaming red stripes, weals rising against a white backdrop. I’m aroused by this, too, by everything. The heat rises even more when she lays off the switch and the sensations combine to bring me to an edge. I fight against it, but the women at my feet are too adept with their dildos and their tongues. One knows me well; the other thinks she does.

  Even as Cozinne begins again with her handmade whip, I know I’m cumming. Even as I think she’ll tear my flesh away with her cruel cuts, I know I’m cumming. I twist, a flash flood roars down my body. It’s a jubilant relief that lasts an eternity, but not long enough. I want the switch again and again until the torrent subsides altogether. I cry through the gag to Cozinne and she accommodates me well.

  After my body ceases to jerk, I open my eyes to a calmer scene. I’m being licked lovingly, still probed by the dildos, though I watch as Cozinne throws the switch away. The ordeal is nearly over.

  I hang limply wanting to relax in my bonds, but my arms ache not wanting to support my weight. There are tears trickling down my face as I look in wonder at my red swollen breasts, and feel the spasms of satisfaction that still shimmy between my thighs. How can anything so horrible feel this good?

  Cozinne wants me for her own purposes. Cutting me down, she takes the gag from my mouth and pushes me to her groin where she makes me lick her hot cunt. I lap at her as if my life depends on it, hardly coming up for a breath of air. I’m aware of Peach doing the same favor to Donna, just next to us. A blanket appears from somewhere, though it does little to comfort us on the hard ground. Yet, no one complains about discomfort now, they’re too intent on pleasure.