by Ella Ford
Suzy stepped forward, breathing through her nose. Her hands fell onto her hips and she stood before Audrey who seemed to shrink into the hardbacked chair.
“You don’t care that we’re lesbians?” asked Suzy with a deceptively calm voice.
“I-I didn’t mean…” stammered Audrey.
“Then what did you mean?” asked Suzy.
“It’s just… it doesn’t bother me… what you do… together,” the woman replied.
Suzy crossed her arms and leaned her head to the side.
“I’m totally okay with it,” added the woman with a pleading look.
Suzy nodded and took a step back, then glanced around at me. “Let’s see how ‘totally okay’ you really are Audrey.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. “This is Nicole,” she said, spinning me around and holding me between her and Audrey. “She likes to be a good little girl, and good little girls need rewards, don’t you think Audrey? To encourage good behaviour.”
I felt my heartbeat quicken, unsure what was happening, still bewildered by this strange world I’d stumbled into but powerless to resist in any meaningful way.
Audrey’s eyes flicked to the side. “I-I guess,” she said, clearly sensing a trap.
Suzy reached around my body and slid the leather jacket off my shoulders. I shuddered at her touch, quivering as her fingers brushed over my bare flesh.
“Glad we agree,” she said, and threw the jacket to the side. “Nicole, take off your dress and underwear,” she said.
It took me several seconds to realize she was talking to me and I gasped when I did. I turned to her, glancing back over my shoulders questioningly. She met my gaze with a certain look of utter conviction, leaving me no suspicion that this was remotely negotiable. Those hypnotic blue eyes, that icy glare. Any notion of resistance crumbled from my mind like an ancient parchment.
Without thinking, I reached down and gripped the hem of my dress, then pulled it up past my waist and my chest, over my head. With trembling hands, I dropped the expensive garment to the floor. I was suddenly deeply aware of my body, standing there in my black bra and panties, pale flesh exposed to the women in ways that would have seemed unthinkable just hours ago. But there was a strange thrill to it, a curious sensation of objectification that seemed at odds with everything I thought was right.
With robotic movements, never taking my eyes off Audrey, I reached behind myself and unhooked my bra, allowing the delicate lace underwear to fall down my arms to the floor. Then I hooked my fingers in the waistband of my panties and slowly, gingerly, slid them down my legs and kicked them aside with a flick of my heel.
I was naked, but for my high heeled shoes. I could scarcely believe it, could barely fathom how my life had taken this strange turn. I could feel five pairs of eyes on me, studying my breasts, my ass, my pussy. It was thrilling and terrifying, to be so utterly exposed, utterly vulnerable. Yet I felt curiously safe, a strange sensation that was difficult to articulate. I knew with a deep certainty that Suzy would protect me, that I was hers and no-one else’s. My nakedness was her desire, her wish, and granting that wish felt right in ways that I could not explain.
Suzy moved behind me and gripped my arms. I felt her body press against me, the hard touch of her nipples on my bare back, the gentle swell of her breasts. I felt the warmth of her breath on my shoulders, in my ear, causing light tingles of anticipation on my skin. “Lie down on the bed on your back,” she breathed and I obeyed without thinking, without question, moving across the room and lowering myself to lie on the dusty comforter. I rolled over onto my back and faced Suzy, flushing as she studied me with greedy eyes.
“Audrey, it’s time to earn your money and prove your words,” she said.
“P-please don’t…” replied Audrey, sobbing quietly.
“I want you to reward Nicole for being a good girl,” said Suzy with a smirk. Miranda laughed, and the other two girls snorted. “And since you’re ‘totally okay’ with what we get up to, I want you to eat her pussy till she comes all over your prissy little face.”
Audrey gasped and shook her head. “N-no, you can’t make me…” she breathed, pleading with her eyes.
Suzy turned to her and crossed her arms. “You sure about that Audrey?” she said, narrowing her eyes. “You sure I can’t make you? After you just told us what your boss, the state’s attorney, gets up to behind closed doors. How she enjoys the company of upmarket whores, bored little rich girls that she uses till they beg her to stop. How you gave us a way to rob the stuck-up bitch blind.” She paused and let her words hang in the air. “You’ll forgive me, Audrey, if I don’t share your certainty about what I can and can’t do. Because if you want your money, if you want to be paid for your sordid little part in our daring venture, then you’re going to get down on your knees and eat that young pussy like it was thanksgiving fucking dinner. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” Her voice rose to a menacing snarl and Audrey shrank before her.
“Y-yes, perfectly clear.”
Behind me, on the other bed, the redhead Sarah clapped and giggled. I sensed motion and glanced around. Mona’s hands were roaming over Sarah’s naked flesh, hungry eyes staring at my breasts and legs.
Before me, Audrey pushed herself up from the chair, eyes locked on the floor with rigid terror. I watched her approach me, watched her eyes flick to the door of the motel room. I wondered how close she was to fleeing, how close she was to washing her hands of this situation and returning to her life, whatever it was. Then she glanced at the desk, eyes landing on a leather bag. Her money, I assumed. Her jaw clenched with renewed resolve, whatever internal struggle she was fighting settled and done. She turned to me and studied my body, gazing up at her from the bed. Without thinking, I parted my knees and exposed myself, feeling cool air on my wet pussy. It seemed like what Suzy would have wanted me to do.
Audrey gasped, her eyes widening as her final destination was revealed. She reached the edge of the bed and lowered herself to her knees, trembling hands gripping the edge of the mattress. Then she stopped, frozen in place, unable to look away from the pink line of my pussy. I studied her with detached fascination, wondering what she was thinking, wondering how she felt. Did she feel the same way that I had in the bathroom, forced with semi-reluctance to eat another girl’s pussy? Did she secretly want it? A secret that she didn’t yet admit to herself? Or was her action seeped in disgust and revulsion, driven by greed or fear? I didn’t know, didn’t care, all I knew was that my aching pussy demanded attention and I pleaded at her with my eyes, begging her to give me it.
Then Suzy stepped forward and crouched down behind Audrey, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back. “Last chance honey,” she whispered. “Either you put your mouth on that delicious cunt and earn your money, or you walk out of here and never look back. Think of it like your big money bonus round.” Her voice rose to a jaunty crescendo. “Well, what is it to be, Audrey?” she barked. “Will you walk away forever, or will you play for our special prize and eat her cunt!”
The other women laughed and Audrey gasped as they began to chant, “Eat. Her. Cunt! Eat. Her. Cunt!”
Then she nodded and sobbed. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it.”
With that, Suzy pushed her forward until she was bending over the bed, mouth inches from my pussy. She gazed up at me, eyes full of nervous trepidation. I tried to flash her a message with my eyes. Try it. It’s not that bad. You might even like it, my look said.
She sighed and gingerly pushed her tongue out, glancing my lips with the lightest of touches. Her eyes squeezed shut and she gasped. Then she licked again, slightly deeper this time, making enough contact with my wet pussy to send hot shivers through my body. She opened her eyes and looked at me again, a new look in her eyes. Surprise.
Her tongue flicked out and her arms lifted from her side and coiled around my thighs like twin cobras. There was a palpable change in her, her initial reluctance slowly melting away with every nervous touch of her tongue, every forbidden ta
ste. I sensed her pushing deeper, further into the complex layers of my labia. Each sweep of her tongue, each labored breath on my wet flesh causing electric jolts of sensation in my body. I threw my head back, opening my mouth and exhaling quickly. I’d never been licked like this before, all previous attempts at oral sex by reluctant boyfriends were uncomfortable and embarrassing. But now, here, in this dirty motel room, surrounded by an insatiable gang of biker women, somehow everything came together to cause indescribable feelings of utter pleasure inside me. Was it Audrey’s inexperienced tongue, learning and growing in confidence with every eager sweep? Or was it the feeling of Suzy’s deep blue eyes on my naked body, the sense of ownership, of possession, of total surrender?
Between my legs, Audrey shifted her position and moved her focus to my clitoris, pressing down on me, forcing my throbbing nub against my pelvic bone. It felt incredible, indescribable, forbidden and intense, an unrelenting wave of molten ecstasy washing through my body. I heard a voice cry out, then realized with dim awareness that it was me. My hands lifted from the bed, falling on my breasts and kneading them greedily.
I felt dirty and alive, sleazy and used, my body no longer my own, a plaything of another. These new feelings thrilled me, sending my awareness soaring through the stratosphere, on wings of pure pleasure, a universe away from my mundane life of expectation and conformity.
Around me, the world somehow continued, an evolving diorama of sapphic love, caught in flashes of lucidity between pulses of sensation. Miranda, hand pushed into her pants, leaning against the wall, frigging furiously as she watched me writhe and squirm. Behind me, Mona and Sarah, naked bodies moving as one, legs scissored together in a double-v, pussies grinding, voices raised with cries of hot passion. And before me, Suzy and her watchful glare, crouching behind Audrey, gripping her hair, pushing her head down into my aching pussy.
The entire room came alive with a chorus of female voices, rising in a crescendo of lust. The air was thick with the smell of sex and desire, a rich musk of pussy and sweat. I breathed in deeply through my nose, filling myself with it, thrilled by the feelings that it provoked inside me. And all the while, Audrey grew in confidence and enthusiasm, driven by her own evolving needs, becoming bolder with every passing second. Her tongue found my hole and teased it, she swept slowly up through my labia, sucking my wet lips into her hot mouth, flicking my clit with the tip of her tongue, then tracing tight circles on that engorged bulge. I reached down, unable to stop myself any longer, and gripped her head, sinking my fingers into her dark hair, pulling her into me.
My hips began to grind rhythmically up and down, smearing my sex on her face, commanding the situation with my hands, chasing the release I craved so much. She struggled at first, fighting against my grip, but soon relented, allowing me to ride her nose, her chin, her mouth, soaking her with the glistening juice of my lust.
Inside me, something triggered, a touchpaper lit, a fuse aflame. It burned quickly and grew, igniting a fireball that bloomed in my pussy. I turned into it, allowing myself the glory of release. Like a supernova it erupted and rose in a furious roar of white light and pure pleasure. My body bucked and strained, spine arching upwards, pressing my pussy into Audrey’s face, my thighs gripping her head and preventing escape. I screamed out, begging her to stop, begging for more, begging for anything. Every muscle in my body fired at once, feet kicking out on the bed, trying desperately to find purchase, possessed with an intense need to anchor myself in this reality before the raging orgasm swept me into sweet oblivion.
Then it ended. As quickly as it started, the intense fire left me. I exhaled and fell back on the bed, hands falling limply to my side, releasing Audrey from the vice like grip of my legs. She sat back, face slick with my sex, panting breathlessly, her eyes wide with a surprising desire.
My body began to tremble, nerves firing with the aftershocks of the orgasm.
From somewhere far, far away, I heard Suzy’s honey voice. “There, that wasn’t so bad was it Audrey,” she purred. “Now take your fucking money and get out of my sight. Girls, we’ve got a bitch to rob.”
As Audrey stared back at me, I saw something unexpected on her flushed, gleaming face: disappointment.
Chapter 3
“Are you new?” the older woman gazed at me quizzically, leaning her head to the side and crossing her arms loosely before her.
“Y-yes, ma’am,” I replied with a whisper. Suzy had told me to act the scared little girl, but I had no need to feign the rigid terror that had gripped my mind. I could scarcely believe that I was here, standing in the downtown apartment of Madeline Richards, State’s Attorney. I could scarcely believe that I playing the part of a common whore, a Saturday evening’s entertainment for a powerful and perverted woman. I felt as though I was sleepwalking through a dream, agreeing to things that I knew were wrong but which seemed maddeningly agreeable. What had happened to me? Where had my life changed?
“Let me take your coat and get you comfortable,” said Madeline Richards, “before we get… started.”
The older woman moved behind me and I let my arms fall to my side, trying to stop the uncontrollable shake in my body, gazing straight ahead, locked in place by my fear and trepidation.
“You’re nervous,” she purred behind me, leaning in close and touching her hands gently to my arms. “I like that.” Then she slowly teased my short jacket off my shoulders and draped it over the back of a hard wooden chair at a corner table.
Despite the warmth of the apartment, I felt a chill run through my body. I was dressed in the same outfit I’d worn to the bar, what seemed like a thousand years ago. A tight black cocktail dress that hugged my figure, cut short on my thighs. To this, Suzy had added sheer black thigh-high stockings with a straight seam running down the back of my legs. Audrey had told us, with a nervous whisper, that she knew her boss liked feet, and always requested that her girls wear pantyhose or stockings. With my strappy sandals, I felt like a strange combination of stripper, hooker and porn cliché. Not for the first or last time that night, I wondered what on earth I was doing.
“Shall we move to the living room?” said Madeline Richards moving before me and stroking me with a flick of her slender finger down my cheek.
With a sigh, I tried to control my thoughts, remembering why I was there and trying to do the job that I’d reluctantly been trusted to do. Trying to follow Suzy’s plan to the letter. If indeed it could be called a plan. It was a threadbare scheme at best, if truth be told, cooked up in a flurry of vodka fueled conversation over the last few days. I was to gain access to Madeline Richards’ apartment under the guise of a high-class call girl, the kind of female meat that this voracious woman consumed without a second thought. Once inside, I was to allow her to use me, to satiate her appetites with my body until she drifted off to sleep. Then I’d let Suzy and her gang inside, help them rob her and leave before she woke. As plans went, it was hardly the Apollo programme, but Suzy had made it perfectly clear that it was her way or the highway, and the same curious compulsion that led me to follow her into the bathroom in the first place saw me following her down this inadvisable path.
The woman coughed, attracting my attention, dragging me out of the distant contemplation. I nodded nervously and set off behind her as she headed off through the cavernous apartment, glancing around, trying to take in every small detail: the layout of the rooms, the position of closets and drawers, the style of locks and the contents of shelves. The woman’s home was modern and polished, decorated with an extravagant, tasteful hand that had money to spare. Every room and the long corridors were lit with recessed, subtle lighting that cast dim, warm light over the starkly minimalist furniture, causing a strange juxtaposition of sensations, both welcoming and disconcerting. This effect was amplified by the woman’s choice of ornamentation and artwork, an intimidating mix of grotesque faces, frozen on canvas or dark mahogany busts, tribal and primal, there was a sense of despair to some of the pieces.
I found myself w
ondering distantly how many girls had followed her through her home, how many girls had peered at the strange artefacts and felt the debilitating paralysis of fear that I was currently experiencing.
I shook my head and tried to refocus, glancing at the woman before me. She was in her late thirties, according to the fleeting Wikipedia research that I’d done on my phone sometime in the intensely confusing last few days. She was wearing a crisp, cream business suit, a black satin blouse and a pressed blazer, with a perfectly straight knee-length skirt and tan pantyhose. On her feet, she wore intimidating four inch stiletto heels that clicked on the hardwood floor of her home as she confidently led me to my strange fate. They made her look tall and imposing, seemingly towering over me in spite of the heels that I wore. What was it with tall women recently?
For a fleeting moment, I considered confessing to her. I considered coming clean and telling the woman why I was there, how we’d arranged for her usual girl to be “delayed”. I thought about pretending that I’d been kidnapped by an insatiable gang of lesbian bikers and forced into this sordid scheme, intending to rob her and goodness knows what else. But I didn’t. I kept quiet and meek and timid and followed along as I’d followed along behind Suzy. To this day, I still don’t know why.
We reached the living room and I gasped as I stepped into a wide and open space, high ceilings and long views across the city through huge picture windows along two of the walls. I felt a rush of vertigo, a dizzy lightheadedness that washed over me as I gazed down at the neon-dark city below me, rain blurred tail lights weaved through the warren of streets, a bustling hive of life and humanity and safety, so very close but a universe away.
“Kneel down there,” said the woman, pointing to a padded leather cushion beside the sofa. I glanced at the cushion and blinked, wondering if it was too late to back out. Then with a sigh, I lowered myself down and curled my legs beneath me, leaning to the side on my hand with a slouch and awaiting instruction.
