by Rachel Heath
“I love you, Juanita,” Kate said, kissing her lover’s face cheek.
“I love you, too,” Juanita replied hoarsely, eyes closed.
Kate nibbled on Juanita’s ear, then kissed her neck, sucking and tasting the tender skin. “Juanita?” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“Do you think you’ll want to come again?”
Juanita opened her eyes and smiled while shaking her head slightly. “I’m quite satisfied. And quite tired.”
Kate put her hand lovingly on Juanita’s boob. “Thanks for wearing the jewels,” she said.
“You’re quite welcome,” Juanita replied. Then she added, “You want to come again, don’t you, Kate?”
“Yes,” Kate said in a softly forthright voice, green eyes shining.
“Where do you get so much energy, sweetheart?”
“Don’t I keep telling you to jog, Juanita?” Kate asked rhetorically in mock-exasperation.
Kate handed Juanita the Spanky. Once again, they rolled over so that Kate was on top. “Don’t spank just yet,” Kate said as she started rocking her hips, trying to fire up the coals. She rocked and squeezed her cunt around the dildo and kissed Juanita’s precious skin. Feeling the warmth beginning in her chakra, she pulled on her own boobs. Kate rocked her hips faster. Her pussy lips were tightening. Her nipples stung. She wanted it.
“Start, darling,” Kate said.
Thwack!
Chapter Twelve
Mrs. Danvers and Rebecca Late One Evening
Based on characters created by Daphne du Maurier in her classic Rebecca
She’s with one of them now, amusing herself. I am in her room, polishing and tidying things up for her, and I am sick with jealousy. My heart hammers cruelly against my chest, my stomach curdles with rage -- she doesn’t care.
My lady doesn’t care! About me. About my feelings.
She lives as she pleases no matter what.
I dust beneath the windowpane, gazing at the craggy shoreline on this warm spring night, hearing the waves rhythmically crash against the rocks. It’s close to the time when she will return and I light the candles before switching off the electric light.
Then I hear her footsteps: light, almost prancing, unmistakably hers. My beautiful, selfish lady.
“Danny!” Rebecca greets as she dances in. Her angelic face is flushed with the joy of a fresh conquest. Her dimpled smile shows off a red, sensuous mouth and a set of gleaming white teeth. Her eyes sparkle with mischief. She stretches out that long slender catlike body of hers.
“Yes, Madam,” I reply. Despite the intensity of my jealousy, I am hers
She sits at her dressing table. “Hair drill, Danny,” she says.
I stand behind her, brushing that silky, black, short hair and adoring the enticing scent of azaleas clinging to her as she gazes into the mirror, admiring her reflection. I liked her to where it long but short is better for riding and sailing, she says. Her throaty voice falls an octave as she imitates her latest man, “Oh Rebecca, you must be the most beautiful woman in all the world.” Then she laughs.
Excitement begins in me, small coals being stoked in the pit of my stomach.
She leans back against the chair. “My boots, Danny,” she says.
I kneel before my lady, worshipful, as I pull her black boots off. Gently, I massage Rebecca’s delicate feet, unusually small for a woman of her height.
“Oh, thank you, Danny,” she croons.
Even if I saw nothing else of her, I could recognize her feet by a green vein which pops up right before the ankle; she has another, similar but more subdued, green vein on the swell of her right breast.
“He thinks I’m in love with him,” she continued, giggling.
I laugh with her.
Barefoot, she falls on the bed, her head toward its intricately carved bedstead and lying on the gold-colored coverlet with the large, cursive R on it. She laughs again, louder this time.
Finally, I can’t help myself and blurt out, “Oh, Rebecca, why do you have to see them?”
She sits up, a frown on her beautiful face. “So you’re jealous, Danny?” she queries.
Yes,” I confess. “Very jealous.”
“Come here,” she orders as she sits on the side of her bed.
I obey and sit beside her. She puts her fingers in my hair, then tightens them around the cords of my hair, now coming loose. “You have no right to be jealous of me!” she says.
“No right at all,” I agree. “But I don’t know why you have to see them. They’re not worthy of you.”
“Of course, they’re not. But it amuses me to see them and I like to see them and I’m going to keep on seeing them. I’m not going to stop for you or anybody else, Danny!”
I sigh. I know that. My lady does just as she pleases.
“You’re jealous of me and you’ve got no right to be and for that you must be punished,” she tells me.
“Yes, ma’am.” Fear tingles down my spine.
“Fetch my hairbrush,” she commands.
I walk to the dressing table and get the hairbrush with which I brushed out Rebecca’s hair, then bring it back and hand it to her.
“Across my knees,” she says.
Humbly, I drape myself across her lap, then lift up my skirt and petticoat.
She pulls my underpants down, exposing my ass cheeks to the air. A shudder runs through me.
“Submit,” she says with emphasis and I relax the muscles in my ass cheeks, making them soft for her.
Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! She brings the brush cruelly down on my tender, naked flesh.
I gasp, then let out a shrill cry as my ass cheeks burn.
“Are you supposed to be jealous of your Mistress, Danny?” she asks, bringing her face toward mine, malice evident in her eyes and smile.
“No, ma’am,” I reply instantly. “No, I have no right to be jealous of you. You are my superior. In every way.”
“Yes, I am,” she noted and cracked the brush again across my buttocks.
Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!
“Ouch! Oh, my lady! Ow! It hurts!”
Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!
My ass feels like it has caught on fire. “Ouch! Ouch! Oh! Oh!”
“Ah, but Danny, I like the way you look when you’re getting spanked,” my lady says. “You’re bottom looks so pretty as it turns pink.”
Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!
“Ouch! Ow! Ow! Ouch!”
“Remember to submit, Danny,” she says and I concentrate to force my ass muscles to relax after the swats.
Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!
“Oh, my lady! Oh! Ouch! Ow!”
“Are you going to question my judgment again, Danny?” she asks.
“No, never, I promise, my lady. Never.”
Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!
“Oh! Ouch! Ouch! Ow! Oh, my lady! Stop! Please, stop!”
“Not yet, Danny. You ass is pink. I’m going to make it get red, red as a brick.”
Again I shudder.
The spanks come even harder and swifter than before. Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat! Swat!
“Oh, my lady! Oh, Rebecca! Ouch! I can’t stand it! Ouch!” I exclaim, shameless in my pain. “Now, just a few with the whip,” Rebecca says.
“Oh, no, ma’am, please don’t,” I plead. “I can’t stand that. It’s too much.”
“Just a few,” she says.
Whap!
I let out a scream.
Whap! Whap!
She puts the whip down. “Here, Danny, love me,” she says and even as my bottom burns with pain, I feel my nipples burn even more with the upsurge of my desire. Like the muscles in my pussy, they are knotted from within.
My heart lifts as we embrace and our mouths meet. I open my mouth and her tongue moves across my teeth, sending hot chills up my spine. Our tongues roll around together as our bodies do.
He
r hot breath tickles along the side of my neck. “Oh, Danny,” my lady says. Her deft fingers slowly unbutton the top of my black dress. “This is what he did,” she says. “Only he was clumsy, of course.” Her long-fingered, slender hand reaches under my camisole and bra. She pulls and I shudder with excitement, a gasp escaping my mouth.
“Like this,” she says, “He touched me like this.” Her hand squeezes, lets go, then squeezes again. I exult as a fever rises inside me. She pulls again on my breasts, then takes one in her mouth at the nipple. She sucks, hard, biting; it’s painful yet sweetly painful.
“May I?” I ask.
She permits me to pull off her shirt, then her pants. I unfasten her bra and her big, alabaster globes with nipples that remind me of strawberries swing freely. I bury my face between them, holding the beloved mounds in the palms of my hands. I want to be reborn in my lady, in Rebecca. I want to get lost in the strength of her womanliness.
I suck too, greedily, as if I were her charge, an infant ravenous in my thirst. Her nipple hardens against my tongue and I feel my clitoris tighten like a miniature fist even as my pussy grows moist and hot with my love. I throb down there in my love-hole, an anguished drumming of desire for my lady.
Slowly she slides out of her black pants and I feel myself, as I am every time, transported by the upside down triangle of her sacred jungle. I move my face close, my nostrils teased by the thick musky scent of her.
My lady turns my face up toward hers and she kisses me fully on the mouth. In gratitude, I fall at her feet again and kiss them, the way I know she likes to have them kissed. Slowly I work my way up her legs as she rolls her hips against the golden coverlet, letting an occasional moan escape as her eyes close. I lick up to her thighs and there I am now permitted. The soft pink lips opening reminds me of a delicate, fleshly seashell and I slide my tongue up and down those lips, savoring her juice. Then I vibrate my tongue across the tiny bud of her clitoris.
“Ohhhhhhhh, Danny,” she breathes, slowly. Her chest rises, then falls and she fondles her own breasts. “Ohhhhh.”
I dip my tongue into the hot wetness of her vagina even as my own cunt is in a pulsating agony of lust. But I must not touch myself, not yet. My lady is first in all things.
“Brush again,” she says. It’s a low murmur but anything from Rebecca’s lips is a command.
So I put the handle of her favorite hairbrush up her juicy cunt. I move it in and out as I lick, and suck, hard, on her clitoris.
“Yeah... faster... ohhhhhhh... “ The passion surges through her, building, building, pulling back, then building again. “Faster!” I move the brush in and out, in and out, in and out and lick lick lick until my lady’s body convulses and she screams with sheer unadulterated joy.
As she lies back, sweat glinting on her glowing face, she holds out her arms to me, meaning I can ride her now. I do, lying on top of her, my nipples still taut and stinging, my Venus mound ripe with desire. I rub myself on her pelvis, rub and down, digging hard into her. She cups my ass cheeks in her hands, pulls them apart, then squeezes them, cruelly digging her nails into the places stung by her whip just as I cum.
Finally she says, as she has said so often before, “Nobody maids me like you do, Danny.” I never tire of hearing it.
Chapter Thirteen
The Mystery of the Perverts
It was impossible for me to get my breasts flattened down. My best friend Delores helped me when she came over. Wearing just my panties, I held my arms up as she wrapped the bandage around me. Delores was so pretty: fair-skinned, black-haired, with enormous blue eyes.
After I was fully dressed, my hat over my short brown hair, we went into the living room. My stepmother shook her soft bun of graying hair and said, “I don’t know what the world is coming to these days. Girls cutting their hair and flattening themselves down to look like boys.”
I shrugged and tried not to look embarrassed (Delores’ mother was worse, she had even slapped Delores for wearing make-up, screaming “Fast! Fast!” which was why Delores started living on her own).
“You girls going to that awful trial again?” she asked disgustedly.
“But Mrs. Tree,” Delores explained, “It’s part... we want to see how this country’s... uh... system of... “
“Justice,” I prompted.
“Yeah,” Delores said. “How justice works.”
“I think there must be something wrong with you to be interested in murderers,” Mama said. “The worst kind of murderers at that.” She shuddered, then whispered, “Perverts.”
Delores and I walked out into the warm Chicago morning. “I wish I’d remembered my fan,” Delores said as we boarded a trolley car.
“Delores,” I asked, “Do you think Mama is right? They did such a horrible thing!”
“Of course it was horrible. But that they did it anyway means something has to be wrong with them. I mean, look at them – especially Richard -- he is so cute, he has to have a good heart deep down.”
A hatless bald man to the side of us commented, “Those boys will hang, no matter what Darrow does.”
A gray-haired woman in front of us turned around. “Loeb was led into it by that awful Leopold,” she remarked. “You can tell there’s something wrong with that boy. His eyebrows meet in the middle just like an ape’s.”
Delores and I got inside court that day. It was all alienists, as psychiatrists were called in those days, on the witness stand.
“The boys had a compact,” the skinny doctor named Dr. Healy testified. “Do you want me to be specific?”
“Please do,” Darrow prodded.
“If they continued their criminalistic activities, Mr. Leopold was to enjoy the privilege of inserting his penis between Mr. Loeb’s legs at certain specified dates.”
I felt a sudden rush of fear-filled excitement. Perversion! Delores’ short fingernails dug into my palms.
“Your Honor,” Darrow said, rising to his feet and approaching the bench. “I don’t think this kind of testimony should be taken in the presence of reporters and women.”
“I want this courtroom cleared of women,” ordered Judge Caverly.
Delores and I looked at each other in shocked disappointment. Other ladies were shaking their heads. “This isn’t fair,” an older woman muttered.
“Ladies, I have ordered you to leave and you must leave,” Judge Caverly reiterated. “The testimony now is going into a lot of things that aren’t fit for you to hear.”
So the women in the court rose and made their way to the door. When Delores got there, she hesitated, as did several others.
“If you don’t leave now, I will have the bailiff escort you out,” said the Judge.
Delores and I took the trolley to her place. “That was so unfair,” I fumed, shutting the door behind us. “They treated us like we were children.”
“Ain’t it the truth,” Delores agreed.
“Delores,” I said. Then paused.
“Yeah?”
“Leopold put his penis... “ I began. “Between Dickie Loeb’s legs. “
“That’s not quite what happens,” Delores said.
“Do you know what... two men... ?” I asked haltingly.
“What perverts do?” she asked. Delores nodded. “Yes, I know.”
My jaw must have dropped halfway to the floor. The air seemed to crackle with the excitement of the unspeakable. “What do they do?” I finally asked, unable to bear the tension any longer.
“I’ll show you,” she said. “You pretend you’re Dickie Loeb and I’ll be Babe Leopold.”
She tugged at my sleeve and gently led me to her bedroom. It had a bed and a chest upon which sat a lamp with a frilly lampshade. A large mirror hung on the wall to my right. Pictures of Rudolph Valentino and Theda Bara decorated the walls. She pulled the blanket back and I saw white sheets and a pillow.
Without a word, I lay on my stomach. I held the pillow to my face which I turned slightly to the right.
“That’s the way
Dickie would be,” Delores told me, and I felt strangely proud that I’d guessed it so accurately. I felt her breath along my neck. “Babe might kiss him, “ she said and I felt her lips’ light wetness along my ear.
“But, of course, to really do what they... perverts... do, Babe would have to pull Dickie’s pants down.” The words hung in the air. Then I realized that she was waiting for me to bare my bottom.
I gathered all the courage I had. Slowly, I pulled up my dress. Then my slip. Finally, I pulled down my panties.
“Babe puts his penis... “ I whispered.
“Between Dickie’s legs.” Delores completed the sentence and slipped her fingers between the cleft of my thighs. “That’s what the alienist said. But that’s not quite right.”
Electricity seemed to leap upward from her hand to my sex. I felt a warm beat inside my cunt and my clitoris hardened painfully.
“What he really does,” Delores explained slowly, “is put it in here.” I felt her fingers tentatively explore the cleavage between my buttocks.
“Ohhh,” I moaned. “But what if Dickie had to... had to... go to... ?”
“Babe could give him an enema before they do it,” she said. “Perverts do that. I have an enema bag here. Lucky for us, Carrie, I got an apartment with a private powder room.”
“Yeah,” I said. Could I let Delores give me an enema?
I could. I did.
I was embarrassed and afraid that hearing me in the bathroom would disgust Delores-- so I got her to agree to leave the apartment and return in fifteen minutes. After I finished I was strangely aware of my internal cleanliness and excited about what was to come. I sat on the bed, the bandages still holding my chest flat, waiting for Delores to return. When the door opened, a pulse jumped in my pussy.
Delores lay beside me. “Since the asshole doesn’t naturally make juice like the pussy does,” she said, “Babe would have to wet Dickie’s asshole another way.”
Her fingers played at my lips and I opened my mouth to permit them inside. I bit playfully and she giggled and wagged the finger of her other hand.
I shivered as she pried my buttocks apart and began pushing her saliva-wet fingers against my asshole. Slowly I felt my asshole give way to her moist digits.
