Home > Miscellaneous > Oops > Chapter 3
With her free hand, Brynna grabbed Anne's wrist. Years of martial arts and weight lifting had given her a grip that was like steel, hard and unyielding. She held the little wrist almost painfully, shaking, as her other hand tightened in the girl's hair, pulling her up further. "You have to stop this." Her growling voice was edged with desperation. "I can't take it. You don't understand what you're doing."
"Out. Now. And close the damned door." Brynna's face was an interesting shade of red, almost as dark as her hair with the combination of anger and embarrassment.
Anne looked at her, face red. "I don't mind, Mistress. I'm not..." She hesitated. "I don't mind people knowing what I do for you, even if it embarrasses me."
Unconsciously, Brynna's hands tightened, pulling the girl's hair painfully and crushing her wrist in a bruising grip. Anne whimpered, but made no move to pull away. For one guilty second, Brynna's cunt tightened at the sound, then she released her abruptly, jumping to her feet and whirling to slam the door, but Siobhan's grip on the frame prevented that until she pried loose her sister's hands, held her wrists tightly, and bodily moved her out of the way.
Brynna locked the door, then slid the bolt as well. "This is private," she snapped. "I respect your privacy. You will bloody well respect mine!"
The sound of Siobhan's frustrated scream carried through the door clearly, as did the thump when she hit the wall, but she didn't say anything else.
Still seething, Brynna turned back to the girl in the tub, saying nothing yet, just taking deep breaths and attempting to get both temper and libido under control.
Anne looked at her calmly. "I don't mind," she said again. "If you want to beat me in front of her, you can. Or anyone else, for that matter."
Brynna exploded. "I mind! And I'm not going to beat you, damn it! You are not going to do things for me, and I am not going to touch you, do you understand? It should not have happened!"
Anne's face fell, and her chin trembled, but her voice was steady when she replied, "Mistress... you do not have to use me. You do not have to touch me. You can send me away." Her fingers gripped the side of the tub, white with strain. "You can send me away, if you wish. But I will always be there, waiting, hoping you will call me back. If you call me in a year, I will be there. If you call me in a decade, I will be there. If you call me in fifty years, I will be there. You can send me away, but you cannot release me."
Brynna slid down the door into the floor, burying her face against her knees. "Oh god... this isn't fair. I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt anyone. It should have been harmless, just a harmless little dream... I'd never do it." Her shoulders shook. "I'm not like that. I'm not evil. It was just a turn-on, it wasn't supposed to be real! It's not fair... just thinking it shouldn't be wrong. Everybody thinks about bad things, but that doesn't make them happen. God why? Why? How do I fix this?"
"Mistress... I don't understand," Anne said. "You didn't hurt me! Well, no," she corrected herself. "You hurt me. But you didn't harm me. What hurts most is that you don't want me, don't you understand that?"
With a deep sigh, Brynna raised her head. "Honey, I want you to listen to me. And I want you to think about what I'm saying intellectually, not emotionally. From what you've said, you're more than capable of doing that. Do you promise?"
"Okay. I am a pervert. I like reading fiction about torture and rape." Brynna closed her eyes, face etched with pain. "I've read... a lot of it. And I've also read a lot about the, um, psychology of it. Partly because that part of human nature fascinates me on an intellectual level, and partly to make my fantasies more realistic. So I know exactly how to break a person's will. How to use pain, relief from pain, and pleasure to brainwash them into believing anything I tell them. Torture will work on anyone. It doesn't matter how strong someone is, or how smart, everyone will eventually break, and my fantasies have always focused on that breaking point. You may think you're immune because of your intelligence, but you're not. It's not an intellectual thing. It's a deep, primal human thing. If you..." She swallowed hard, looking up guiltily. "If you look back over what happened, look at how you felt in the beginning, you can see how each step wore you down, shaped you into what I wa— what I fantasized about wanting. The end result... that's not real. Real is what you felt before I hurt you. Who you were before I broke you. You have to hold onto that, no matter what you feel now, and someday you'll get it b-back..." Her voice caught. "I hope. God, please, I hope!"
"Honey," Brynna said gently, "Think about it. If, before this had happened, you'd met someone who said the things you do now, had done the things you've done, what would you think? Can you honestly say you'd consider her sane? Healthy? What would you think of the person who'd done it to her?"
"Well, I hadn't done the research then, so I'd probably have thought she was crazy. But I have now, and this isn't that unusual," Anne said. "There are websites and newsgroups and books about it."
"No. I know what websites and groups you're talking about. But that does NOT apply here. This wasn't consensual. It wasn't negotiated. It wasn't safe. Or sane," Brynna said firmly.
Anne nodded. "You're right that there wasn't consent. On the other hand, you had no idea this would happen. So you aren't guilty of anything."
"Responsible I can go for. But what you need to understand is that you didn't do anything wrong. Look, if you were driving down the street, and I was wearing some kind of magic invisibility suit, and ran out in front of you so that you hit me, would you have done anything wrong? No. You wouldn't have."
"It doesn't matter," Brynna repeated. "Whether I did something wrong or not, something wrong happened. And it is my responsibility because it was my actions that caused it, whatever the intent behind them. And to take advantage of the wrong that was done, that would be... unforgivable. Pure evil."
"Only if it was wrong to do so. Look, maybe I didn't consent then, but I am consenting now. Freely. Happily. You made me feel things I didn't know I could feel. Not just the orgasms... you made me feel... I don't know, alive. Connected." She smiled. "I want it, okay? So stop feeling guilty."
"If it were someone else, would you think it was possible for her to consent after what you've been through?" Brynna asked.
Anne looked thoughtful. "I don't know. I'm unusual. Someone else might not be able to, even though I can."
"You shoved safety pins through your nipples. You're willing to humiliate yourself in public. Yes," Brynna said flatly. "I'm sorry, but you do."
Anne flushed. "Okay. Um. I guess so. But... I'm not, really. It's just... I need this. No, that's not right. I need you. And even if you don't want me, I'll always be here."
Brynna groaned. "Honey, you don't need me. You need someone who'll take care of you, help you heal. Not someone who hurt you."
Brynna leapt to her feet. "Damn it, you know—" She stopped herself, then went to the sink and turned it on, splashing cold water on her face, then straightened, grabbed the towel and buried her face in it for a few seconds while she calmed down. "You know how you were hurt. You even know how it affected you. Don't play games."
"Honey, if you would consider anyone else in your position harmed, and unable to realize it, then you can't say that you weren't harmed," Brynna said gently.
"I don't know that anyone else could have not been harmed, but I don't see where I have. Where did you harm me?"
Brynna looked at her, frustrated, then walked over and turned on the water in the tub, pulling the plug and adjusting it until it was warm before grabbing the hand-held shower. She started washing Anne off, avoiding getting her hair wet. "Honey, we've already established that. Your actions, your words, your feelings are all those of someone who has been badly hurt."
"I never agreed with that. I don't agree with that. I've found something I need, not something that's harmed me," Anne said.
"The sudden, fanatic extremity of the desires," Brynna said. "And the lengths you're willing to go to. Hurting yourself."
"People often go overboard when they find something new," Anne said reasonably. "They talked about that on some of the web pages. And I thought I'd made you mad, so I had to show you I understood. I didn't realize you didn't know I knew I was yours."
Brynna set the shower aside, turned off the water, then wrapped a towel around the girl. "Come out now," she said.
Brynna sat down on the closed toilet and tugged Anne between her knees, and started drying her carefully. "You're not mine," she said quietly. "Maybe if things had started differently, you could have been someday. But not this way. Not starting with a rape and without consent or discussion."
Anne shook her head. "I am yours. Even if you never take advantage of it, I'm yours. There's nothing you can do about that."
"Listen to me." Brynna gripped her shoulders tightly. "That is not what I want. I want you to recover from this. I want you to be able to have a normal sexual life, with whoever you want, however you want it to be. I don't want you bound to me, do you understand?"
Anne's lip trembled. "I'm sorry, Mistress. But there's nothing you can do about it. I am yours. Maybe it didn't have to be you, maybe it would have been whoever took me like that first. I don't know. But it happened, and I like it, Mistress. I want it. I need it. You can tell me not to display it. You can tell me not to act like it's there. And I won't. But it will still be there. It will be there until the day I die. And I'll cherish it until the day I die."
Brynna bowed her head. "Why are you doing this? Do you want to punish me that badly? I'm willing to go to jail. Hell, I'd gladly stay there if it would keep something like this from ever happening again. But how could I possibly live with myself if you won't even try to recover, to move on?"
"Mistress... Don't you think I've thought about that? But I've thought about something that you haven't."
"What if this is normal for me, just something I'd never known about? Then trying to 'recover' would seriously screw me up. There's no way to know which one is the case, but I'm happy now. I don't see any reason to jeopardize it trying to recover from something that doesn't bother me."
Brynna thought about it for a moment. "That's fine, honey. If you want to be a submissive... or even someone's slave... that's your choice. Find someone you can trust not to abuse you, negotiate your limits, and enjoy yourself. But don't fixate on what happened. Don't think that you're mine just because you learned something important to you from my abuse. You do not owe me for that."
"I don't have any limits." Anne stopped. "Well, I mean, I'd really prefer it if you didn't scar me really badly and make me ugly or kill me, or cut off limbs, but you can if you want to."
"Gah! Damn it! You're going to get yourself killed saying things like that!" Brynna rubbed her temples hard. "Look. That... that's a case of that 'going overboard on new interests' thing, and no one ethical will touch you when you say you have no limits, so you would only be appealing to the scum of the earth and you're going to get yourself killed!"
"No." Brynna ground her teeth. "You are not mine. You are not going to be mine. I'm not going to be here to own you. You have to make your own decisions, and when you're ready find your own lover, and unless you want to read that I hung myself at the asylum out of guilt, then you will do your best to avoid ending up a nasty headline in the paper."
Anne looked at her for a moment, then smiled. "If you try to turn yourself into the police, I'll call my father and tell him to get a lawyer to get you off."
Brynna narrows her eyes. "That's okay. I don't have to turn myself into the police. All I have to do is go to the nearest mental hospital and tell them everything. It will have the same outcome."
Anne shook her head. "I'll have him hire a lawyer to get you out. I can't let you do something stupid and hurt yourself."
"It would be completely voluntary. There is no legal way to force them to release me when I'm asking them for help. Plus, once your father heard that I was in for obsessing over torturing his twelve year old daughter, I very much doubt he'd be in the mood to assist your plan, honey."
"Then that's proof right there that you're totally crazy," Brynna said flatly. "Unless he's crazy, too. You need to face up to it— I'm not going to be here. I'm not going to own you."
"You've found something that you claim is more satisfying than anything else, something you say you need... if you truly feel that way, why would you lock yourself into a situation where you could never get it?" Brynna asked.
"I don't know," Anne said. "Maybe because you were the first person to touch me like this. Maybe we were destined to be together. Maybe there's no reason at all. All I know is that I'll be yours forever."
Brynna closed her eyes and sighed. "You'll get over it. Once I'm out of reach for a while, once you've had some time to recover, time to think, it'll fade, and you'll be okay. This kind of... passing obsession is quite normal for your age."
"Next time she slaps you, tell her to do it again from me. 'Normal for your age' my ass! What, exactly, is normal about me?" Anne asked.
"What emotional vulnerability? Have I exactly seemed like some poor girl with low self esteem, here?"
Brynna leaned back, looking at her tiredly. "What are you wanting me to say? That that makes everything okay? It doesn't. If anything, it'd make it worse, because if you were sure of your worth before, and are now self-destructive, then that's a definite, visible, measurable harm done you."
"That, for one," Brynna said, letting the towel fall loose and motioning to her nipples. "Along with saying your willing to be maimed or killed. What else would you call it?"
"Willing. Not that I want to. There's a big difference between 'willing to' and 'want to'. I don't want to. I want to live. I spent too long in the shadow of death to want to die. But I'm willing to. And as for these, I don't see the problem. Logically, it's no different than the needles they use at a piercing parlor. Not as good, because they aren't as sharp, but a hole is a hole," Anne said.
"No. It isn't," Brynna said tightly. "There's a huge difference between a quick, sharp, sterile, professional piercing with pure, non-allergenic needles and metals, and sitting down by yourself and shoving dull, cheap, mystery metal through your nipples. There's a huge difference between doing it because you want to have the jewelry and putting yourself through that kind of pain, and for you, serious trauma, for someone else."
"Not that big of one. And I do want to have the jewelry. But I have to get you over this freak-out before I can have it."
Brynna dropped her head onto her hands. "What the hell did I do to deserve this?" she muttered. "Was just having the fantasies that bad? What did I ever do to deserve this kind of cruelty?"
"Mistress, is it really that bad?" Anne asked plaintively. "Assume for the sake of argument that this is normal for me, okay? Then is it really that bad to have a little slut who'll do anything you want?"
"You really don't get it, do you?" Brynna asked, softly. She sighed, sitting up, an reached out to pull the girl down into her lap. A look of pain flickered across her face as Anne instantly, joyfully cuddled up against her, but she wrapped her arms around the delicate little body and pulled her close to whisper in her ear, "I can't have you. No matter what. Even if I knew, for absolute certain, that you wanted everything, that you would have asked for it if you'd had the chance, I still couldn't have you. It's not legal, and it's not right. It doesn't matter what I want, or how attractive it is. It's not possible. Despite my perversion, I'm not... not evil. I'm not willing to become a monster just to feed my fetishes."
"Why can't you have me?" Anne asked. "I don't get it. What law would it break? Why would it be wrong?"
"Sweetheart, you're twelve. What law wouldn't it break? How could it possibly not be wrong?" Brynna shook her head. "I may be a pervert, but I will not be a child molester."
"Oh, please. I'm only, what? Three years younger than you? Give it up. And what law would it break?" Anne asked again. "No, maybe it would be, since I'm not eighteen. But neither are you, so I'd be just as guilty."
"I don't know exactly what the law would say, but I know damned well they'd prosecute me for being with you," Brynna said. "And if we did anything kinky at all, and that got out, they'd probably choose to try me as an adult, as well. And even if, by some loophole, it'd be perfectly legal, then it would not be in a couple of years. And that loophole wouldn't make it right."
"I... it just is. Because I can't know that your consent would be valid. Because the laws exist for a reason," she said, "And that reason is that it's harmful. Because even if you do think you got a positive benefit from it, I still raped you. Tortured you. That alone makes me the last person in the world who has any right to touch you, ever again."
"I say you can touch me. All you want. All the time, preferably. Yeah, the laws exist for a reason, but you know damned well they aren't made with someone like me in mind." Anne sighed. "Look... you didn't rape me. I know that as well as I know my blood type, okay? If you'd had any idea I was experiencing what you were fantasizing about, you'd never have done it. You aren't a rapist. Get over it, already, will you?"
"Irrelevant. You didn't intend for me to know about it, you didn't want me to know about it, and if you'd known it was possible you'd have done everything in your power to stop me from knowing about it, wouldn't you?" Anne shook her head firmly. "The most guilt I can give is about the same as if you'd come around a corner too fast and knocked me down in the hall. So get over it."
"If you didn't want it, it was rape. Intent is irrelevant," Brynna said. "And you will not find a psychiatrist in the world who will say that any kind of healthy relationship could ever possibly start out with a rape."
"Intent is not irrelevant. You didn't know. It can't be rape unless you choose to do it, and you didn't."
"No, you didn't," Anne said, shaking her head. "You enjoyed fantasizing about it. Because you know what? You didn't rape me. You just fantasized about it, and I... tuned into it, or something. Maybe I'm a telepath, or something. But it wasn't something you chose to do. You can't rape someone involuntarily. You know, maybe I raped you by tuning into your fantasy without permission."
"How much did you feel?" Brynna asked. "How did you feel it? Was it real to you? I'm assuming it was, because it couldn't have had such a profound effect, otherwise. So how did you feel? Afraid? In pain? Humiliated? Helpless?"
"Yes. And then turned on, and wanted, and... and loved, and safe," Anne said, looking down. "It... it feels good to know I'm yours."
"Anne... it was a fantasy," Brynna said. "It was 'okay' to me to do those things only because it wasn't real. It's not okay to me to really own someone. To really force her. Really hurt her. Even if it was legal, and you were willing, I couldn't do it."
"Playing is okay. Consensual bdsm is okay. Forcing someone and totally conditioning them to be yours..." Brynna shook her head. "That's not okay, and no one ethical is going to say it is."
"Why? Dammit, I couldn't have found out if I'd been consenting! It's not too late! Do I seem like someone who's just blindly doing whatever you tell me?" Anne asked. "If you'd 'conditioned' me, would I be arguing with you? Think!"
Anne shrugged, the motion making the safety pins through her nipples jiggle. "Well, honestly, knowing me before might not have been a good comparison. I didn't have low self-esteem, but I wasn't likely to argue, either. I'd have just stayed quiet."
Anne fell silent, looking thoughtful. "Um. You know, that's a good question. I mean, um. Hmm." She pursed her lips, thinking. "Um. Okay, maybe I know. Maybe it's because, well, I know I belong to you, so it's okay to risk making waves, because no matter what I'll still belong to you."
"Why? Why would it be okay if it wasn't before?" Brynna asked. "What could you possibly get from thinking you're owned?"
"It's... It's something that won't change. As long as I have that, nothing else matters. I can take a risk, because even if I screw up and people make fun of me, I'm still yours. Nothing can take that away."
Brynna groaned and pulled her close. "Damn it," she whispered. "That's... not fair. It shouldn't be that way. It should be something good that gives you that. Something good for you."
"Don't you understand? It is. Maybe it's something you can't understand. I know I don't understand why you'd want to do those things for me, not really. I mean, I guess it could be kind of interesting, but it seems like a lot of work. But I know it turned you on. A lot. So, you know, maybe we just can't understand each other, because we're complementary."
Anne hesitated. "I... no, not exactly. That's not what I've thought about when I was, you know, the last few nights. Well, it was, but it was that you were doing what you wanted to me. That you were... taking me, possessing me, owning me. Using me."
Brynna tightened her arms around Anne, the breathe catching in her throat. "It wouldn't work," she said hoarsely. "Even if I could believe it'd be okay, it still wouldn't be possible."
Brynna closed her eyes. "You're so young. You've been through so much. Don't you want a normal relationship? A boyfriend to be sappy over while your friends tease you? Sweet words, kisses, and flowers instead of... that."
Brynna shifted uncomfortably, looking a bit stunned. "I... I meant... I didn't mean that I was agreeing to anything, I just..."
"I want to be your girlfriend," Anne said. "But I also want to be your slave. Your slut. Your whore. I want you to shove my face into your cunt while you twist my nipple rings. I want you to... to do all the things you fantasized about." She was squirming, pressing her legs together. "Please?"
Brynna's resolve was visibly wavering, but she still tried. "Do you really want a relationship you have to hide and be ashamed of?" she asked. "Think about what your parents would think... I know it would just about kill my mother if she found out."
"I'm not ashamed," Anne said, looking up into Brynna's face. "I'm not ashamed of being your slut. I'm not ashamed of being your whore. And there's no way in hell I'd be ashamed of being your girlfriend!"
Brynna bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. "But you couldn't tell anyone," she said. "Any of it. Do you really want to live that way— lying to the people who care about you?"
"I couldn't tell them about the slut and whore part, but I could tell them I was your girlfriend." Anne shrugged. "And maybe some day I could tell them the rest."
"Well, no. But they aren't going to freak out because of the age difference. They might be a little worried, but..." Anne shrugged again. "I'm not exactly a normal twelve-year-old girl, you know."
"No. I am not going to try and explain to some nice people whose baby's been sick for years that I just happened to molest her somehow telepathically and then she persuaded me to keep doing it. Absolutely not," Brynna said. "Maybe when you're fifteen or so. But until then, it would have to be a secret."
"Well, like I said, I wouldn't tell them about the kinky stuff. But the girlfriend stuff would be okay."
"No it wouldn't. Even if they thought it was okay for you, they wouldn't think it was okay for me to go along with it," Brynna said. "If it were someone your own age, and they have no problem with lesbian, yeah. Or even just a year older. But not three."
Anne shook her head. "Did I say I was going to tell them I was fucking you? Of course not." She gave Brynna a pointed look. "I hope I will be, though. Often."
"Isn't that what you were getting at?" Brynna asked. "If I don't give it to you, you'll find someone who will?"
"That's not a good reason for me to agree to it. It doesn't matter how... attractive the prospect... I still shouldn't agree to it."
"All the reasons I've already explained. The risks of getting caught," Brynna said. "Which are, by the way, greatly increased by the fact that my sister does know part of what happened."
"Because you want to. Because we'd both be happier if you did," Anne said. "And I don't think your sister's likely to be much of a problem."
"If you think that, you don't know her very well," Brynna said, shaking her head. "And my mother... isn't well. She couldn't handle finding out about this. Any of it. It would kill her."
"I don't know. Hell, she might like that part," Brynna said. "But I can't be sure. And I know she'd be... horrified by the rest. And she'd blame herself."
"Well, we don't tell her about that bit. And I have a plan for your sister," Anne said. "Just leave it to me."
"That doesn't sound very reassuring. In fact," Brynna said, "I'd say that that sounded like a helluva bad idea."
"I'm a genius, remember?" Anne said. "And I've already figured out how to convince her to play along. No problem."
"Because you aren't a genius. Or, well, maybe you are— I mean, I really haven't had time to find out— but she's your sister, and I think you've got a blind spot for some things," Anne said. "I can handle her. Just go along with me, okay?"
Brynna smiled. "You really think I'd agree with that? You might say anything. I'm definitely not stupid enough to give blanket agreement to a scheme that I don't know the details of."
"And if looking cute and sad would get you what you wanted, we wouldn't be having this conversation," she said. "We'd be doing other things, instead."
"Maybe that's the wrong word. So what would you call someone who intentionally tries to turn a person on beyond the possibility of rational thought just so she can get fucked?" Brynna asked, her green-blue eyes mostly hidden beneath half lowered lashes as she stared coolly down at the girl in her lap.
"I'd get a lot out of it. I'd get to be your little fucking slut," Anne said, looking up at her, her face flushed.
"I want to be your slut," Anne said in a hoarse whisper. "I want to be your fuck toy. I want you to make me do all sorts of filthy things. I want you to make me do things I don't want to do."
Brynna ran her nails lightly along Anne's neck, running her thumb up and down the artery, feeling the pulse jumping beneath her touch. She knew she should stop, but she couldn't find the will to do it. Instead, she licked her lips. "Like what? What do you want me to make you do?"
"But you want to lick me," Brynna said. "You'd love it if I shoved you down on your knees and spread my legs right now for your hungry little tongue. So tell me about these things you don't want to do. Not the things that every little slut just does naturally."
Anne hesitated. "Um. What... what I did earlier in the bathtub. I didn't like it. Um. You could... you could make me, you know. Do other people. Instead of you. Or masturbate while they watched. You could... you could make me lay down in the bathtub and lick you while you... you know."
Brynna was actually a touch shocked. But also so turned on she could barely breathe. "My. You are a dirty little girl, aren't you?" she whispered. "I didn't make you do that before. I know I didn't."
"So how did my little slut come up with that idea, hmm?" Brynna asked, her hand on the back of Anne's neck.
Anne licked her lips. "I... I told you I don't sleep much. So I spent a lot of time doing... you know. Research. About this."
"Research. Uh-huh. Did you play with your pussy while you 'researched' that?" Brynna whispered against her ear.
"I want to hear the words from your sweet little mouth. Tell me what you did. Tell me how it made you feel."
Anne shivered, and looked up at Brynna. "Yes, ma'am. Or..." She swallowed. "Or would you like me to... to show you?"
"I... I woke up, right after you made me lick your feet clean. And I made myself... come. And I went looking on the net. I found this site... it had girls, you know. Peeing on each other. And the samples..." Her face was flushed. "I imagined it was me. That you were making me do it. So I bought a membership and... and..." She buried her head against Brynna's chest, muffling her voice. "And it's too humiliating. I don't want to do it... but I want you to make me do it. And I... I touched myself while I watched the videos they had."
Almost in a trance, not really believing she was doing it, Brynna tugged the towel open and let it fall away from Anne's body, her eyes immediately going to the little nipples with the huge pins through them.
Brynna lay her hand on the girl's thighs, sliding it up and down along the smooth skin. "Show me," she whispered. "Show me how bad you want it. Show me what a little slut you are."
Unable to resist the temptation, Brynna looked down at the smooth little pussy and shuddered. "Show me. Spread your little cunt open for me. Display yourself, slut!"
Anne slid a shaking hand down to her cunt, spreading her fingers and pulling the lips apart, revealing her wet, slick cunt.
Brynna squeezed her on legs together, breathing hard. "Have you ever had anything in your cunt, slut?"
Brynna held her wrist, her thumb pressed into the girl's palm, and raised it up between them. The fingers were glistening wet. "Messy little slut. Clean it up."
Obediently, Anne bent forward, licking at her fingers, the soft pink tongue running from bottom to top, over and over again.
Three fingers slipped into Anne's mouth at once as she eagerly obeyed, slipping them all the way in.
Brynna trembled. She hadn't intended to touch her. Not directly. Just look, maybe, just a bit. Tease a little. But not anything... big. But now... now she was fighting the urge to spread her legs and let the girl fall to the floor between her knees, and grab her by the hair and shove that sweet little face between her legs. Increasingly, her reasons not to seemed far away and foolish. Anne wanted it. She obviously wanted it. Her little cunt was dripping wet. It would be cruel to not fuck her at this point...
Part of her realized that it was rationalization. The bigger part, though, didn't care. She wanted to feel that little tongue. She already had the guilt, so why not? The small, wet sounds the girl was making as she sucked her fingers clean were driving her crazy. Still she hesitated, though. There was a line that hadn't been crossed yet, and something told her that if she crossed it, she could never, ever go back, and everything would change. Could sex... any kind of sex... actually be worth it?
She squirmed, her thighs slick and her cunt aching to come, then lifted Anne down off of her lap, setting her on her knees on the floor, a couple of feet away from her.
Brynna shuddered, then reached up under her skirt and slid her panties down her thighs, letting them fall off and into the floor. The crotch was soaked, the filmy material almost transparent from wetness. She sat back down and raised one leg, propping her foot on the side of the tub, and slid a hand beneath her skirt. She groaned as her fingers brushed her wet, swollen cunt lips. "Lean back. Spread yourself. Spread that sweet little cunt open and show me how you play with yourself."
Anne whimpered, spreading her legs obediently. The instant she reached down and rubbed her fingers along her clit she cried out, arching her back, and came, her hips pushed forward.
Brynna moaned, rubbing desperately at her clit. "Don't stop! Keep touching yourself. Don't you dare stop!"
Anne cried out again, fingers moving in little circles on her clit, wet and slick, and she leaned back, on her knees on the floor, bent backwards, holding herself up with one arm, her tiny breasts pushed forward, a drop of blood forming around the pin through one nipple.
"Fuck! Oh fuck yes, do it..." Brynna's skirt had ridden up, exposing her frantically moving fingers and wet cunt, but she was past caring as she stared at the girl hungrily, eyes roaming between that drop of blood and the little wet cunt, then back up to the tortured, lustful face. She clenched her other hand into a fist, nails biting deep into the skin to keep from grabbing her.
Brynna sobbed for breath, then shoved her wrist in her mouth, muffling the scream that she couldn't quite stop as she came, hard, almost violently, shoving back against the toilet tank, slamming her head against the wall as her hips thrust hard against her hand.
She went limp, then, shuddering, gasping for breath, heart pounding in her ears. Her eyes were half open, watching the girl, still sobbing and writhing in the floor. She wondered just how many times Anne had come... and how many more she could come. And what would happen if she didn't stop her, but just watched that lithe little body, all covered with sweat, thrashing, moaning... Her cunt clenched again, and she shivered at the thrill of pleasure. But... that line was still there. She hadn't touched her. She hadn't let Anne touch her. They hadn't done anything that girls hadn't done on half the sleep-overs that ever took place, though perhaps they'd done it a bit more openly, and certainly the language was an additional, more extreme, point. But the line was still there, for now, and if she kept sitting there, watching and getting more turned on, it wouldn't be for long!
Brynna slid down into the floor onto her knees and reached for Anne's wrist after the next orgasm. "Enough. That's enough now."
Anne sagged, her back relaxing, sitting back on her ankles. "Oh... oh god, Mistress, I never... I never... not like that. Not just over and over and over again."
Brynna started to reach for her, but hesitated when she realized her own right hand was quite wet. She stopped, arms partially outstretched, frozen for a moment.
Anne sat up, leaning forward. "Yes, ma'am." She sucked Brynna's index finger into her mouth, licking at the juices.
An electric shock ran from Brynna's fingers straight to her cunt, and she froze completely, utterly unable to move away. Each tug of the little mouth made her clit twitch, and sweat trickled down the back of her neck.
Anne pulled back, sucking on the finger until it came free with an audible 'pop', and moved to the next finger.
Brynna made no move to stop her. In fact, she made no move at all, not even to breathe. She would have liked to. She would have liked to whimper. Or touch herself. Or something. But with that little mouth wrapped around her sticky fingers, she was completely paralyzed.
Anne cleaned each finger, carefully, thoroughly, and then moved down to Brynna's palm, lapping at it with her little pink tongue, licking delicately at the webbing between each pair of fingers.