by Lexie X
Piper grit her teeth to keep from reacting to the intense feeling of firm moist pressure against her sex. A firm tongue had to be the best damn feeling in the world; again, she wondered how in the world there were girls not doing this with each other. That couldn't be Isabella's programming talking, could it? It really did feel amazing. Even Julie's slow amateur tonguing felt like pure stimulating bliss, and the redhead was just exploring her doll.
Then again, Isabella had been fine receiving oral pleasure from a girl. Was someone who just received licking still straight? Did the reasons and intentions matter? Were there sorority houses forcing pledges lick the pussies of senior girls while somehow everyone involved was still considered straight? All these thoughts ran through Piper's head as a core of ecstasy built inside her. Feeling the bed vibrate a little, she managed to glance down and see Julie rubbing herself rapidly as she licked.
So, she was getting herself off to the act. Piper's suspicions had been right.
There was also every chance that Julie would orgasm and her doll would not. But dolls didn't need to orgasm, did they? She wondered how much Isabella knew about Julie's intentions, and whether keying her up like this and denying her an orgasm was part of her ongoing humiliation.
If she left this room and Isabella ordered her not to masturbate, she would know for certain. But quite often Isabella had gotten her intensely aroused in order to make her pliable for even darker demands. Did the blonde have something in mind?
Even in the depths of her despair and humiliation, Piper found herself enjoying the pain and hoping for more. It was almost enough to initiate her orgasm—almost.
But Julie was losing focus and pausing her licking in favor of ragged breaths. She buried her tongue deep in slick velvet and then began tensing in that very specific manner Piper knew meant she was getting off. From the intensity of the redhead's motions, it was an amazing orgasm.
Her tongue still buried deep, Julie gave a throaty squeal once, twice—and then relaxed, pulling her tongue out as she recovered. She took a deep breath and looked around, visibly coming down from ecstasy. Her face was red from exertion and arousal and her hair had become a messy crimson halo. As she studied the piled pillows and her exposed doll, she seemed to come out of her lust and realize that she was naked with another girl—her nemesis, to boot.
"Get out," she ordered, speaking for the first time in nearly half an hour. Quickly, Julie turned off her recording phone and started getting dressed.
Her whole body rushing with conflicting fires of near-orgasm pleasure, embarrassment, humiliation, anger, and need, Piper got up and forced herself to get dressed. There better be a reason for all this, she told herself, or what the fuck am I doing with my life?
On her way out, she braced herself for an order not to masturbate, or a suggestion of something darker—but Isabella wasn't even in the living room at all.
Julie's roommate sat watching television.
"Where's Isabella?" she asked, but the girl either didn't hear her or didn't care to respond.
Piper made her way out Julie's apartment, backpack full of unused toys in hand. Of the two painful options she'd been expecting, this surprise third path—Isabella not being present at all—was far worse than anything she'd anticipated. Furious, hurt, and turned on near to bursting, she hurried back to her own apartment with an angry speech in mind.
***
Chapter 3
"But she wasn't there either?" Jessie asked, walking alongside down the orange-lit evening street as the trees swayed softly in the wind. "Where the hell was she?"
"I waited up half the night," Piper told her. "She didn't answer any of my texts or calls, and she finally came home drunk at like four in the morning."
"Bars don't even stay open that late. Where the hell was she?"
"She said she went to a house party."
Jessie held her hand tightly, but did not suggest the obvious. Instead, she walked in silence for quite some time, her gaze on passing trees that had just begun to show hints of color. "Things get dark sometimes," she finally thought aloud. "Isabella can have that effect on all of us."
"All of us?"
"Think about it," Jessie said, turning her gaze away from the trees and toward her best friend as they walked. "She's like a spider on a web, and we're all trapped in it."
"How so?"
"How many times have you had sex with Julie?"
Piper felt a slight wave of discomfort pass over her. "I wouldn't call most of it sex, even though I definitely serviced her a ton in the early days."
"And the foursome this summer, and the doll play yesterday," Jessie continued. "All stemming from Isabella's will, and the twisted relationship you two have."
"Well that's just Julie," she started to protest, but her best friend cut her off.
"What about Marlene? Isabella chose her at random and pulled her in and basically made her my girlfriend as some sort of fucked up gift. Now there’s some straight girl out there with a lesbian relationship under her belt and probably permanently a little confused for it."
Now definitely uncomfortable, Piper stopped their walk and faced her friend. "Can Isabella really have that much power? Did she really control everything you two shared?"
"Not all of it, but it only happened because of her." Jessie turned her head aside for a moment, but then brought her attention back forward with an expression of quiet admission. "You remember that night she brought Marlene over, and we all—you know, on my bed? I… I still remember what she tastes like. Isabella, I mean. What it was like to go down on her."
Fighting embarrassed and intrigued surprise, Piper asked, "You do?"
"I still masturbate to that," Jessie admitted sheepishly. "And to all the stories you tell me. You and her and the things you do are like… almost all of my fantasies."
After taking a moment to process that, Piper could only respond with concern and compassion for her best friend. "You're serious."
"Don't you see? I'm trapped in the web, too. We all are. You, me, Julie. Marlene, for a few months. Even her own sister, Laura. And that one girl at the mall over Christmas break, the one that Isabella convinced to let you go down on her in a bathroom stall. We're all twisted up in your relationship, all parts of some dark web, with various levels of willingness. We're all her toys."
Some level of her pessimistic analysis, Piper knew, was true—but only some of it. "It's not just her. I've initiated some things myself. You can't blame just her."
"I know you love her," Jessie replied, her tone quiet and subtly hurt. "I know you do, so much. But what if she fucks you over tomorrow? What if she's been fucking you over for weeks already?"
"She won't, and she hasn't been," Piper replied, her conviction still somewhat strong. "I know her through and through like nobody else."
Her best friend started to say something, but then opted to cover up her hurt and go another direction. "Alright. Then what do your instincts tell you?"
Standing in cool evening breezes, Piper focused her attention inward in an attempt to see and understand. All she found, however, was a roiling fog of pain and confusion. How many layers deep did Isabella's deceptions and manipulations go? When was the last time they'd shared genuine emotions? What had happened to their intense bond from the summer when everything had been pure and good for once?
"I don't know," she was forced to admit. "I don't know what she's doing. I'm too affected. I can't get my head right."
Jessie pulled her by the hand and they both started walking again. "You need to get your power back."
"How do I do that?"
"Honest answer? You need to masturbate."
Flushing red, Piper looked around to make sure nobody had heard the rather loud proclamation.
Jessie just smiled. "Seriously, though. You tell me lots of kinky, crazy, and honestly amazing sexual adventures. I can't remember the last time you just plain masturbated without being part of any evil humiliation or twisted plot."
Giv
ing a sheepish and short laugh, Piper just walked along with her best friend for a moment. At first, she'd thought Jessie was just messing with her, but the more they walked and the more she thought about it—when was the last time she'd had her own mental space and her own self-control? A filed-away thought returned to her awareness: her fantasy of those impossible living dolls. The most alluring thing about them, for her, had been the prospect of taking control of her own cravings and sexuality. This sounded like a real-world prompt for the same possibility.
"Well, if I were to—"
"Porn," Jessie responded. "I know you used to look at porn, because that's how you two basically got together."
Piper felt her face turn beet red.
"Well?" her best friend prompted. "How about taking up that habit again?"
It was so simple it almost seemed ridiculous she hadn't thought of it herself. "Wow. I think that might actually be a good idea."
"Yuh," Jessie told her, laughing. "And that's another way I'm trapped in the web. You and I have worked through so many of your issues with her, it's almost like I'm the communication half of your relationship, and she's the sex half." She quieted as she realized her words had gone from jest to serious.
Piper hadn't missed that, either. "Does that…" She didn't complete her question, because she knew that it did bother her best friend. Was it possible that her stormy relationship with Isabella depended upon Jessie's relentless support? That it put all of the negative weight on her, and gave her none of the positive? "I'm sorry."
"I know you are," Jessie replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Her tone rose a moment later. "But I'm not about to abandon you because your girlfriend can be a psycho sometimes. I'm way stronger than her."
With no words that could possibly suffice, Piper just squeezed her best friend's hand. Her punky companion did have a strength beyond description, and she was beyond glad that Jessie was in her life. How differently might life have turned out if they hadn't both been in the gym showers that day? Or if they hadn't run into each other again outside that bar? Or if they hadn't reconciled after Christmas break? Or any number of important moments in her life.
If Jessie noticed her slight tears, she said nothing of them. Instead, she seemed to steel herself for some kind of resigned pain. She looked up at her house as they approached. "If you want, I could show you some—" Her words cut off for a second. "I mean I've got really good porn, and we could—"
"Yes," Piper found herself blurting. The word spilled out before she even had a chance to think about it. "I mean, sure."
Completely caught off guard by the lack of expected refusal, Jessie blinked. "What, really?"
"Yes," she said again, with a very curious tightness racing circles inside her ribcage. Energy danced at the old walls of her life, making her feel that, for a time, momentous things could happen. Isabella was cold, hateful, and distant. Life seemed to be going backwards. Everything she thought was true might not be. What if the opposite was also the case? "Now."
"Now?" her best friend asked again, her eyes widening slightly. "Ok."
Jessie took her hand and guided her inside, moving as quickly as she dared while still looking calm to the housemates they passed in the living room.
Up the stairs, down the hall, into that familiar room; her heart pounding, Piper fought an inner battle over what she was about to do. She'd always kept a strict pillow between her and her best friend, metaphorically speaking, and Isabella had always dominated her through and through, but the allure of the blonde's chaotic behavior was wearing thin. Piper knew her best friend's feelings, and it would be wrong to claim she didn't—in some manner—return the love of this pierced, tattooed, and brazenly honest girl.
She stood in a daze and looked around at Jessie's posters of naked women. Here was a girl that played no games, held no secrets, and intended no pain. Here was a normal, confident, and growing college girl that just happened to be a lesbian, and she'd dealt with it—the real brunt of it—and accepted it.
Jessie sat on her green-clad bed and loaded something up on her laptop. Her fingers shook with excitement and nervousness as she typed. Floating over to that bed, Piper sat next to her best friend while electricity ran through her every sense. On the screen sat several tabs of lesbian porn waiting to be played, but she doubted they would get through more than one or two. If this really happened, it would escalate very quickly. She knew it would. There was simply too much between them to hold back.
She wasn't sure when it had happened; maybe the emotions that had been strengthening between them had something to do with it, or maybe it was accepting herself as a lesbian, but she saw cuteness and tough beauty in Jessie now. Instead of just understanding a certain kind of attractiveness the spiky-haired girl held, Piper could actually look at her and feel—
"Fuck," Jessie blurted. She closed her laptop and hung her head.
Shot out of her trance, Piper touched her companion's arm. "What is it?"
"I'm your best friend. I should be protecting you any way I can, even if it's from yourself… or me." She clenched her hands into disappointed fists. "We've had this conversation so many times, and I want to do this so badly, but it's not the time."
Physically disappointed, but strangely emotionally relieved, Piper nodded.
"If you and Isabella—" Jessie continued slowly. "If you two don't work out—" She took a deep breath. "Until then, I'm just your best friend, because that's what you need."
"You're not just anything," she responded, suddenly hugging Jessie hard.
"Alright, send me the links," Piper said, holding her phone against her ear with her shoulder while she maneuvered her laptop closer on her bed.
"Sent," Jessie said, her tone humored. "Have fun." She paused a beat. "Hey, can I ask you a question, just this once, in total super-secret-best-friend-never-speak-of-again privacy?"
Quiet and sincere, she gave an honest response. "Yes, I really would have gone through with it."
On the other end of the phone, Jessie took a deep breath. "Goddamnit. I hate doing the right thing."
"I love you for it, though," Piper stated, her heart open.
Jessie sighed dramatically. "Go fucking masturbate already, darling."
She laughed. "Alright."
Still sighing with mock agony over her total super-secret-best-friend-never-speak-of-again answer, her best friend said, "Byyyyyyye…"
Smiling, Piper dropped her phone, glanced at the door to make sure it was locked, and then slid on headphones. It occurred to her that she had her own room now, with her own privacy and her own space; meditating for a moment, she declared her little cube a temporarily Isabella-free space.
She glanced up at the open curtains. If her voyeuristic neighbor, Sheenan, was lurking around, well, that would be alright. Even without Isabella present, the thought of that sheltered redhead watching her masturbate sounded plain tantalizing. Moving slightly, she angled herself to turn her head away from the window. She could still see it in the closet-door mirrors, but anyone watching wouldn't know that. She clicked to the first video Jessie had sent her.
Almost immediately, she sensed her best friend's eye for quality. The video opened on two women who were anything but typical porn fare. They looked like real women—one slightly older, one slightly younger. And it had a story? An actual story? Engrossed, Piper watched and listened as the older brunette began running a seduction game on the younger blonde guest.
Her hand moved down under her panties of its own accord, seeking to gently stimulate a growing heat and wetness. How had Jessie known? This was perfect. Piper had been aware that some porn had stories, sure, but this seemed tailored to suit her dark predatory urges and need for both domination and humiliation.
The older woman grew more insistent as her guest gave in to subtly increasing intimacy during a supposedly friendly massage. The more the younger blonde grew uncomfortable, yet still gave in, the more aroused Piper found herself. There was no doubt in her mind that if s
he'd watched this with Jessie she'd have jumped her best friend in minutes. Despite her focus, a few thoughts of Jessie did cross her mind. She had seen the tattooed girl naked that night with Marlene and Isabella—pierced nipples, pierced clit, and all. She rubbed her own heated mound a little harder for a moment, but then decided to shift her thoughts to something less dangerous.
It occurred to her that the older woman in the video looked a little like Laura. She knew, logically, that people got older with time, but would she still be attracted to Laura, or even Isabella, as the two got older?
Her inner urges insisted: yes, absolutely. Beyond basic physical beauty, the older woman in the video had a commanding presence about her that continually eroded the younger blonde's resistance. The girl was now naked except for her panties and lying face-down on the bed as her host massaged her shoulders.
Slipping a finger inside herself, Piper brought some wetness up one finger and licked it clean, thinking of her time with Julie. It'd been a long time since she'd really gotten in touch with her own body. As the woman in the video calmly insisted that her guest turn over on her back and that it was fine and normal since they were both girls, Piper rubbed herself a little faster with her left hand and repeatedly brought her own juices and scent to her mouth with her right.
The younger blonde finally turned over, exposing her soft tummy and firm handful-sized breasts. Piper found her eyes fixating on those breasts, and her inner wetness surged as the older woman began kneading around them, her fingers moving ever closer bit by bit. After a series of solid-sounding excuses, the woman made direct contact and began kneading her captive's breasts directly.
Electrified, Piper curled her toes and rubbed harder. Before she knew it, the pressure inside her rose and flowed outward in a wave of enjoyable heat. She hadn't meant to orgasm so quickly, but the stimulation of story and visuals had keyed her up, and her close encounter with Jessie had eliminated all her self-control.
It didn't take her very long to remember, with a rather silly feeling, that she didn't have to stop. This wasn't like sex, where people got tired. The only restraint here was the willingness of her own hand. Eager to keep going, and still feeling spasms every so often, she kept her orgasm rolling as a kind of mild buzz.
