I clenched my thighs around my hand and tried to stifle the gasp that was trying to escape my throat. Outrageous was the word that popped up in my head, and I said so.

Fabric rustled at the other side of the room, followed by bare feet which pattered unsteadily through the dark. My mattress sank down next to me.

“Anne!” I exclaimed and felt embarrassed, lying in bed like this, my pajama pants down at my ankles, my top bunched around my neck, one hand on my moist sex. Yes, the room was dark and I was covered by the blanket, but I was sure that Anne was all too aware of what I was doing in my bed.

Until now, with the whole room between us, I could pretend that she didn’t realize what I was doing when we had our slippery whispered conversations, and she could pretend the same with me. Her being so close added a whole new level of intimacy, and it made me feel uncomfortable. It crossed a threshold, and I wasn’t into girls.

“Hush,” she whispered, “just imagine how it would be. You’d have to do anything he asked you to, anything. He’d be unable to resist the temptation.”

“I don’t know,” I whimpered, and felt like chastising myself, I couldn’t seriously be considering it!

Anne had always had a wicked imagination. Those few times I had let myself be talked into doing naughty things like flashing my boobs from the car window or streaking naked across the college lawn at night, it had been her constant needling that had persuaded me. But now that the end of our college time was approaching fast, her imagination seemed to drift from just naughty to seriously kinky. Our nightly talks tended to turn from sweet guys to ropes or cuffs or even whips and paddles on a regular basis, and while it still made me uncomfortable, I couldn’t deny that it intrigued me a bit as well.

We’d been roommates for the whole time, almost four years, at St. Mary’s College, she, the lean, blonde and tanned embodiment of the hyper and outgoing California girl and me, the grey mouse with the brunette page cut from the Bible belt. Despite our differences in looks and upbringing we had gotten on brilliantly from the first moment, and had soon established our roles. I’d keep our room tidy, help her with homework and remind her of deadlines, while she made sure that I didn’t get buried under books and whisked me out of the dorm room to party and have fun every so often.

“I really don’t know!” I told her again, and almost shrieked when she moved on the bed and the mattress compressed on both sides of my hips. “Anne!”

She tittered. Then her weight settled on my stomach, or, to be precise, on my arm which was still extended across it and cupping my sex. I stiffened and my eyes went wide, staring fearfully at her silhouette.

“Oh my,” she whispered, her amusement dripping from her lips, “the thought has you all worked up. You naughty, naughty girl!”

I don’t know what exactly went on in my head at that moment, I could have pushed her off me, ordered her to leave me alone, but something in her playful banter touched deep inside me, reached something previously hidden. My pussy tingled and I couldn’t stop myself from crooking a finger and dipping it into my moist folds.

She seemed to notice what was going on with me, because more of her weight settled on my stomach and arm, so I was unable to move it even an inch. I felt trapped - and hot. Then her weight shifted again, and I realized with a gasp that she was leaning forward, until her upper body was pressing down on mine, and her face was just inches from my own.

“Will you do it?” she inquired, and I could feel her breath tickle my cheek.

Goosebumps raced across my skin. I was close to hyperventilating. This felt wrong, but at the same time, something stirred inside me, a beast yearning to be set free.

“I - I don’t think I can,” I groaned.

Her idea was - as I have already said - outrageous, and I wish I hadn’t confessed my fantasies to her, my dreams of being Jason’s toy, the plaything of our tall, good-looking, funny dorm neighbor. I had been admiring him from afar for the last two years, and ever since he stopped me from toppling to the floor when I bumped into him after turning a corner a few months ago, my fantasies had turned him into my strong, ruthless hero. He had caught me in his strong hands and set me upright again without effort, with an almost painful grip around my arms.

In the beginning, I had imagined us to make love for hours, sweetly, sensuously, but lately those images had turned towards rough sex, him taking his pleasure from me without asking, without tenderness.

And Anne had come up with a solution. Time was running out, because in a few months - months that would be filled with waiting for the results of our finals, being away for spring break and finally some business orientation courses - we’d be off to real life and real jobs. I don’t know if it was the pressure of the upcoming exams or her constant talk about kinky sex that had kindled my fantasies, but I couldn’t get them out of my head, and so one night, after a whispered discussion about new kinky implements of torture she had discovered on the internet and a bit tipsy from three glasses of sparkling wine, I had laid my dark secret bare to her. And she had made it her mission to make them become reality. Even worse, I had, in a fit of utter craziness, asked her to make sure it became real.

Her solution was blackmail. No, not blackmailing him, that wouldn’t really work, would it? ‘Be ruthless or else!’ What a silly idea! Anne’s idea was rather the opposite, about giving him the material to blackmail me. Of course, that sounds easier than it is, but while I was still stumped about how I could accomplish that after she had outlined her basic idea, she already had a plan. A crazy, convoluted plan nonetheless, but then, her plans tended to be like that, but she usually got what she wanted. And so I played along, albeit hesitantly.

In fact, it could be reduced to two words: lewd conduct. St. Mary’s was a catholic college, and while it was overall just as modern as others, a few outdated views were still alive in the rulebook. One of those was the medieval ban on gay and lesbian sex, and an offence would mean immediate expulsion. Perfect blackmail material.

“Anne,” I pleaded once more, “I can’t! What if something goes wrong, what if the pictures come out into the open? It’s my future; I’d get thrown out without a degree!”

“Oh, Bunnie,” she whispered. “If you don’t take risks, you’ll never experience anything worthwhile.” Suddenly, her fingers were stroking my cheek.

“Anne!” I objected and pulled my free arm out of the blanket to push her hand away. Before I could do so, she had anticipated my movement and captured my wrist, pulling my hand above my head and pushing it down into the cushion, then her other hand went back to caressing my cheek.

“Anne!” My protest fell on deaf ears.

“Don’t fight it, honey,” she purred, “imagine I’m Jason, and I have you here, helpless, knowing that I can do with you whatever I want.”

I couldn’t help it. I mean, I probably could have helped it, if I had really tried. But the image was so delicious that I didn’t want to resist. I was aware that our nightly sessions of whispering across the room had suddenly changed into something profoundly sexual, and that I was letting myself being led towards a slippery slope, but I didn’t care.

After four years of friendship, I trusted Anne, and I didn’t want to pass up the possibility of fulfilling my fantasies. But, most of all, something about my position - one hand trapped on my pussy, the other over my head - made my body tingle and my clit pulsate. I closed my eyes.

“Oh god,” I murmured, “I’m so hot. I’m yours.”

I know, I’d had more eloquent moments in my life, but thinking was really becoming difficult.

“Yes, you’re mine.” To me, it was now Jason’s deep voice mixed with Anne’s. “Mine to do whatever I want.”

I could almost smell the heavy scent of his aftershave, and I shuddered from want. Then I felt pressure on my left breast, fingers wrapping around it through the thin blanket, kneading it roughly. I squirmed, groaning my approval while I added a second finger in my pussy and then began to pump in and out, slowly.

Teeth nibbled on the tender spot between my shoulder and neck and drew a long moan from me. “Harder!” I demanded, and my wishes were instantly answered by a sharp yet bearable pain that had me gasping for air. The fingers around my breast clenched, mauled it, and I felt the heat there spread through my body. I was fast approaching my climax, and my gasps and moans made it obvious.

Then the teeth and the hand left, and Anne’s weight shifted back and forced me to stop my ministrations on my pussy. I felt somehow empty and complained. “Nooo! Bitch!”

A giggle answered me. “Come on, let’s do it.”

A bit of rational thought returned, but not enough to suppress the yearning between my thighs. My breath was still way faster than normal. The shame I felt for almost climaxing at the hands of my female roommate didn’t help. “What? Now?”

“No time like the present!” Her voice was self-assured and determined.

My lips went dry, and my heart started to beat a mile a minute. “Can’t we just do it tomorrow?” My question sounded meek and was overshadowed by the unsatisfied need between my legs.

Then her weight vanished from the bed, and before I could react, my blanket was pulled away. I gasped. Some rustling followed, then I heard the click of the switch of the lava lamp on my nightstand, and the room was tinted with soft, reddish light.

I started to tremble; foreign emotions were running wild inside my heaving chest while I stared at the ceiling above me, not daring to look at Anne.

I heard her giggle again, and the feeling of mortification doubled.

“You’re quite the sight,” she told me while she dug around in her half of the cupboard, “with your pajamas bunched around your feet and neck. Are those two fingers in your pussy?”

I gasped and started to pull my hand away.

“No, leave it like it is. You look delicious like this.” Her voice was sharp, commanding, and I followed her order without a second thought. I consciously knew that this was wrong, and the term ‘delicious’ shouldn’t be used by my roommate, not to describe me with two fingers stuck up my sex, but that short role play had me feel meek and pliable - and loving it. Anne had, of course, seen me naked before, we had communal showers at the gym, after all. But this was completely different.

“And keep your other arm above your head like this.”

That made me aware that I hadn’t moved my other arm an inch after she had let go. I’d been blushing before, but now the heat was racing over my cheeks and down my cleavage in waves.

“Tadaa! There it is!” Anne exclaimed and skipped back across the room, holding up an old Polaroid camera like a trophy. Then she was balancing at the corner of the bed and pointing the camera at me, and I suddenly started to doubt the whole thing again.

“Anne! Please, don’t!”

“Oh come on, don’t be a chicken now. I promise you it will work.” And then, like a death blow, she added the one thing she knew I was helpless against. “Think of Jason, he’ll come in his pants once he sees the pictures. Come on; imagine your fingers are Jason’s. Show him your desire!”

That did it. I closed my eyes again, suddenly the fingers weren’t my own anymore and I imagined how he would touch me, without hesitation, how he’d plunge his thick fingers into my wet channel.

“Do it hard, shove them in!”

I moaned and immediately followed my request by pushing my fingers as hard as I could into my pussy. “Yes!” I exclaimed and repeated the motion, faster and faster. Once more I was nearing my orgasm, and I didn’t even realize I was staring into the camera, and I didn’t hear the clicking and whirring while Anne was shooting pictures. My thighs started to tremble, and any moment now I was going to topple over the edge.

“Stop!” Anne’s command drew me out of my bliss, and I followed her order, albeit hesitantly. I was gasping for breath and perspiring like I had run a marathon.

“Please!” I moaned. It was the second time that I had been pulled from the edge of the cliff, and my need was running havoc in my sex.

“We still have to do the important part,” Anne reminded me, and with dread I realized that she was right. For our harebrained scheme to work, we’d have to give the plausible impression of lesbian sex. Anne had laid it all out to me, and it had sounded easy, just a bit of make-believe, toying with the camera angle to give the impression of body contact. Still, once those shots were done, the only thing left was to make sure Jason got into possession of the photos.

While I was thinking about that, my roommate had jumped down from the bed and moved her swivel chair into the center of the room. She had set the camera down on it and was just pulling her pink nightie over her head. I noticed for the first time how small and perky her breasts were. Her nipples were tiny buds, reminding me of over-ripe red currants.

Then she picked up the camera again and sat down on the edge of the chair. Her index finger motioned me over to her. Like in a trance, I rolled out of bed and slowly shuffled the few steps until I was standing in front of her.

“Kneel,” she whispered softly, and I did.

“Spread your legs. Wide.” I took a deep breath and followed that command as well.

Looking up, I saw a smile play over her slightly parted lips, and a strange glint in her eyes. For a moment I had the idea she might have the hots for me, but I immediately let go of the silly notion. I’d have noticed that in the years we’d been rooming together.

She leaned forward, and with the chair on its lowest settings, her breasts were right in front of my nose. I could smell the soft, clean aroma of body lotion on her skin, mixed with a hint of lemony perfume. “Pretend to suck on one of my nipples.”

A bit hesitantly, I bent my neck and brought my mouth close to her left breast. This felt kinky, forbidden. The Polaroid whirred again, and I waited with bated breath for the picture to develop.

“That won’t do.” I perked up, staring at Anne, who threw the photo across the room and looked down at me with a sigh. “I don’t think pretending will do in this case.” She declared, and I almost choked on my spittle.

“You don’t mean…”

“Of course I do!” Her voice was suddenly a bit angry, and I felt at a loss.

“But, Anne…”

“You’re aware that I’m doing all this for you, aren’t you? I’d not let just any girl touch my tit with her mouth.” Her voice became softer. “You’re my best friend, and I want to see you happy.”

I gulped. And felt guilty. She was right, however mad the plan she had cooked up was, it was to get me into Jason’s pants. Or him into mine.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered and lowered my eyes to the floor.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her index finger lifted my chin up, and I felt a sudden bout of gratitude. “You know what to do.”

And I did. She leaned forward again, and I closed my lips around her nipple. It felt strange, so soft and firm at the same time. I could feel the small bumps and ridges of her otherwise silky skin against my lips. She tasted like she smelt, clean, smooth, lemony.

“Look up at me,” she guided me, “then suck on it and run your tongue over it. It has to look natural.”

I followed her instructions and was rewarded by a slightly drawn out, “Yes.” Her face was mostly hidden behind the camera, but her voice betrayed her arousal, and for a moment I panicked that this might cross one line too many. But then I realized that I had become aroused by her ministrations on the bed earlier too, and that it might just be normal under the circumstances.

I renewed my effort, sucking hard on her small nipple and flicking it every so often with the tip of my tongue. The camera whirred, and I looked up hopefully, awaiting her judgment.

“Yes,” she finally declared, “this one is perfect.” And with a giggle she added, “You can stop sucking, by the way.”

Oh my god! I had been so taken up in the moment that I hadn’t realized I was still working my roommate’s nipple with my mouth.

I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me, unable to understand what was happening with me.

Anne meanwhile pulled the lever to extend the chair to its highest setting. Her sex slowly moved upwards, until it was almost at chin level in front of me. I gulped, and felt knots form in my stomach. Which got even tighter when she declared that she had only three photos left in the camera and should avoid wasting any by trying to pretend.

Oh my god! Screamed the voice inside my head, she wants me to lick her pussy for real! The idea in itself was gross! With her nipple it was just skin, not much different from a slightly wet kiss on the cheek. But her pussy, with all her fluids?

She sensed my anxiety. “Relax,” she soothed, but suddenly she jumped up from the chair and told me to stay like I was.

“I know just the thing, and it’ll add to the picture,” she explained while she rummaged in one of her drawers. “Yep, perfect.”

The sound of her bare feet stopped right behind me. “Don’t be alarmed,” she told me. “I’m just going to bind your wrists behind you.” And with that, her hands gripped my shoulders and began to travel down my arms, guiding them behind me. And I let her, until my wrists were crossed behind my back, and could feel her wrapping some kind of thin, soft cord around them and pull it tight. Very tight.

“Anne,” I protested, “it hurts.” But I didn’t try to move my arms.

“Oh Bunnie,” she sighed, “it has to. Remember, no pretending.”

She wrapped a few more loops around my wrists and tied each one really tight. I gasped a few times.

“There, done!” she finally exclaimed, a bit giddy, and then I yelped as a slap sounded and a sharp sting cut into my bum.

“Anne!”

“Sorry, Bunnie,” though sound sorry she did not, “it’s just that you look positively spankable like that.”

The slap left a heated spot on my right bum cheek, and for a moment I felt strangely asymmetric. I almost asked her to hit the other cheek too, but I managed to catch myself before I could make a complete fool out of myself.

Then Anne was back on the chair and wheeling closer to me on tiptoes. I held my breath and stared up at her, like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

“Oh my,” she giggled, “stop looking as if you’re being walked to the executioner.” Then she tilted her head and got that mischievous look I had gotten to know so well. “Jason is going to go crazy when he sees that pic. Nothing gets a guy horny faster than some real girl-on-girl action, and I bet the first thing he’ll do after seeing those pics is wank that big rod of his. You want to please Jason, don’t you?”

Again, the magic word. “Yes!” It was more a shout than a whisper.

And then things got crazy. Anne pulled her legs up and put the soles of her feet behind my head, her knees wide apart. Her left hand snaked down to her sex and started to pull her pussy lips apart, while she relaxed her upper body into the high back of the chair.

Her feet started to push, which pulled the chair closer to me, inch by inch. I could see the small landing strip of short, blonde hair, the soft, glistening folds of her inner labia, her pink clit that seemed to swell and gain a deeper color, and I could smell her, musky, sweet, sharp and altogether overwhelming. For a moment I felt the need to push her away, but the only thing I accomplished was to pull futilely on the cord around my wrists. The moment passed, and now the tip of my nose was almost touching her clit. Her scent grew heavier, but I felt like a train without brakes, compelled to do the inevitable. I extended my tongue and licked, tentatively, only with the tip.

“You’ll make such a beautiful sex slave for him!”

My roommate’s words were like a gunshot, and I could feel the dam inside me first crack, then break. Fresh desire streamed through my sex and my nipples stiffened almost painfully.

A silly, irrational thought gripped me. While I was kneeling here, ashamed and slutty, I suddenly wanted her to feel the same intensity of need. And there was only one way to accomplish that.

My heart thumped madly and my vision narrowed to a small spot right in front of me. My mind screamed at me to stop, but waves of goosebumps on my back urged me forward.

I started licking in earnest, trying to mimic with my tongue what I loved my own fingers doing with my pussy. I ran the upper side flat along her inner lips, wiggled it around, circled the entrance to her channel.

I could hear her gasp and feel her start to gyrate her hips. Gleefully, I flicked her clit and relished the shudder that ran through her body each time I did so. Her breathing became faster and faster, and I followed up with my ministrations, flicking and slurping and even nibbling on her lips and clit, again and again, each of those forbidden actions rewarded by her shuddering, hitching breath.

My jaw started to ache and my tongue felt slightly numb when her whole body finally started to tremble and a deep moan escaped her throat. Her moan rose higher and higher, and her hands suddenly pulled me tight to her pussy. Her thighs clamped tight around my head. Her body arched and twisted in the chair, and I was pulled around with it. I was unable to breathe, my mouth and nose filled with her moisture and scent, but some wicked part of me reveled in that moment and basked in the total loss of control.

Nearly a minute went by until her grip relaxed, finally allowing me to take a breath again and shake away those small black dots that had started to speckle my vision.

We stared at each other. She, in post-orgasmic bliss, an expression of wonder and fulfillment in her eyes, and I, my face coated with her juices and my now moist bangs sticking everywhere, deeply ashamed and unable to believe what I had just done.

My eyes grew misty, and a tear started to trickle down my left cheek. Anne dropped instantly from the chair and knelt in front of me, her arms encircling me, pulling me close and softly stroking my back.

Then I felt something soft and warm on my chin, and when the warmth trailed up across my cheek, I realized she was licking up the tear.

“Anne!” I gasped, but she only pulled me closer.

“Thank you, Bunnie, that was such a beautiful gift.”

The situation felt surreal, so overwhelming that the only thing I could do was lean into her embrace and give in to her soothing sounds and soft caresses.

I don’t know how long we stayed like this, perhaps five minutes, perhaps fifteen. A few more tears mixed with the juices already on my cheeks, and a few sobs shook my body. But finally, my emotional turmoil settled again, and I was able to take a few deep, liberating breaths.

“You okay?” Anne inquired.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

Her arms let go of me and she slid a foot backwards. Then she stared into my eyes, as if questioning. I didn’t understand what she was asking, but I was unable to turn my eyes away. Her hand cupped my chin.

“Do you trust me?”

Something fundamental had changed in our dynamics, I realized, and more was probably about to change. Yet, she was my best friend, if I couldn’t trust her then I could trust nobody. I nodded.

“Tell me.”

“I trust you.” Just a whisper.

She smiled. I realized for the first time how pretty she was when she smiled. “With what do you trust me?” She wanted to know, her voice barely louder than mine.

“Everything.” I didn’t have to think before answering.

“With your body?”

“Yes.”

“With your heart?”

“Yes, Anne.”

“With your sexuality?”

There it was. And even while I whispered, “Yes, Anne!” my mind screamed at me to say no. The atmosphere was supercharged like just before a major thunderstorm, and I could almost feel the small, electric sparks dance across my skin.

She slid to my side and put a hand on my back. “Lean back.”

And I did. Her hand held me and let me slowly sink to the floor. It felt a bit awkward, and uncomfortable, but somehow I dared not move. “I’m - I’m not a lesbian!” I complained meekly.

She just giggled. “I know. Spread your legs.”

I did.

Then she was between my legs. Questions raced through my mind. Would she touch me there? Perhaps lick me, lick I had done her?

But she bent forward, leaning over me, and suddenly her hands were on my breasts.

“You have beautiful tits,” she whispered, “so round, and tight. Without a blemish. And your nipples, they look yummy. So big and long. So many things one could do them.”

“Things?” I croaked, “What things?”

Anne smiled innocently. “I’ll show you.”

And then her arms were to my left and right, and her mouth captured my left nipple. After my first shock wore off, it felt incredible. Warm and moist, and the suction she applied was heaven. Her tongue started to do wicked things to it, and I couldn’t decide what felt better - the circling, teasing, rubbing she was doing or the quick, hard flicks.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through the nipple. I gasped and my head shot up. She had captured the tip between her teeth and was pulling my nipple taut, even grinding her teeth from left to right!

But just as I was opening my mouth to complain, a fingernail scraped over my clit, and the pleasurable electric shock that travelled through my body robbed me of all words. And then something strange happened. The pain in my nipple, mixed with the pleasure from my clit, formed a feeling of intensity I had never before experienced. I almost came.

“Oh god,” I moaned, “oh my god. Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

But at just that moment Anne let go of my nipple and clit. I lay there, panting, unfulfilled, whimpering.

“Please,” I begged, “please make me cum.”

She seemed to think for a few seconds, then she smiled. “If I make you cum, I want two things from you.” One of her fingers trailed over my wet pussy while she talked and kept me on that delicious, cruel edge.

“Anything, Anne!” I promised with need filling my voice.

“Okay, like I said, two things. The first thing is that I want you to pinch both of your nipples with your nails, just as hard is if it were my teeth.”

I nodded hastily, not sure if I could do it, but so desperate for an orgasm that I would certainly try my best.

“Second, I want you to allow me to bite your clit.”

I gulped. My eyes went wide. I think I even started to tremble a bit. If the pain in my nipples was anything to go by, and knowing that my clit was a hundred times more sensitive, the pain had to be really bad. But then I looked into Anne’s face, saw the hunger and need for plain old me in the beautiful blonde’s eyes, and another layer of resistance inside me gave way.

“I’ll let you bite my clit.” I told her quickly, before I could change my mind.

“Brilliant!” she exclaimed, instantly giddy as if Christmas had come early. “Then start.”

I moved my hands a bit hesitantly towards my nipples, and it took me a few tries to get the right grip. But then I couldn’t delay anymore and started to pinch my nails together. It hurt, and I immediately eased the pressure.

“Harder,” Anne encouraged me, “I know you can do it.” A finger ran encouragingly over my slit, and I pulled together all my courage and really pinched.

A cry escaped my lips. Needle pricks shot through my nipples and tits, and I involuntarily curled my toes.

“A little bit harder, then you’re there!” Anne commanded, a breathless note in her voice. “You’re such a strong girl!”

That sentence stirred something in my chest, and I felt a need to please her, to prove her trust in me true. I pinched as hard as I could. Tears welled up in my eyes. Where before needles had been thrust into my nipples, searing blades were now doing their work.

“Oh god, you’re so beautiful like this.” Anne’s face was just inches from mine, though I could hardly see anything through my blurred eyes. “Hold the pressure, don’t let go.” I had hoped that my sensitive nubs would go numb over time, but every small movement sent fresh agony through my breasts.

“Please,” I begged, “please Anne!” Tears leaked down my cheeks in steady intervals now. Then her tongue was there again, lapping up the salty liquid, alternating between my cheeks. My thighs started to tremble like mad, but finally she appeared sated.

“Beg me to bite you.”

I almost couldn’t handle the cruelty of her request, and she seemed to realize that.

“I’ll make you cum so much harder for it.”

It sounds incredible, but the promise of a climax even made the pain in my nipples a lot more bearable.

Then she added, “Be a good girl, please. For me.”

And with that, I was done for.

“Please,” I whimpered through sobs, “please, Anne, bite my clit!”

“Hmm.” She tilted her head left and right, as if thinking. “Should I just nibble it? Or bite it really hard?”

She was playing with me, torturing me by extending the time I spent with my nipples in my vice-like grip, and building up the anxiousness about the final event. I couldn’t take much more; my stomach and sides were trembling now as well, and when the tremors overlapped, my whole body twitched. I had to come; I had to feel her lips on that one spot that would finally allow me release.

“Hard!” I gasped, “As hard as you dare! Please!”

“If you say so,” she whispered throatily, her satisfaction dripping like honey from her lips.

Before I could prepare myself, her head was between my legs, and then a stabbing pain shot through my pussy.

I wailed, but the pain didn’t stop, and then my voice reached a crescendo and gave out. I squirmed on the floor, trying to get away from that evil bite, but Anne’s hands grabbed my thighs and pushed them up and back, folding me almost in half. Her teeth still ground my clit between them. Just as I thought I’d black out, she let go of my ankles and clit. I brought my legs back to the floor and took deep breaths, trying to get my sobs under control.

“You can let go of your nipples,” she whispered, and I did that. I wiped my eyes and looked at them, tentatively, afraid that I might see rivulets of blood running over my tits. There was none of that, just a few indentations in my nipples told about their mistreatment at my own hands. Obviously I had suffered no permanent damage.

“Good girl!”

And I did feel some pride well up at having made it through this treatment. Then Anne’s lips were back at my opening, licking over it, sucking hard on my clit. The feeling from my hyper-sensitive nub was a mixture of pain and pleasure that I can only describe as deliriously exquisite. My pussy pulsed and clenched in synch with her sucking.

Before I could gather my senses, she stuck two fingers inside me and twirled them, and my nipples joined the pulsing. My skin prickled everywhere, and I felt weightless, like flying. I moaned and shook in time with her lips and fingers, like a doll on strings, and every second lifted me higher and higher, until I thought I couldn’t take anymore.

Then she did the unthinkable.

I felt a slight pain in my pucker, but before I realized what was going on, she had stuck a finger, coated with my pussy juice, up my ass and started to wiggle it. It felt strange, bloated - I had never had anything pushed into that opening, not even a fever thermometer - but the whole experience was so nasty and kinky that it took me over the edge.

My pussy contracted in waves, and a feeling of bliss, so strong it nearly made me faint, shot through me.

My back lifted from the floor, taut like a bowstring, and I think I screamed.

Again and again, as every time I thought the feeling was finally ebbing away, Anne would suck hard on my clit, wiggle her finger and send new waves of pleasure through me. I shook and moaned and screamed while wave after wave of pleasure crashed down over me and swept me away.

 Yet, after what felt like hours, the moment came when I could take no more. I slumped to the ground, boneless, and pulled my knees together to protect my clit.

Anne quickly loosened the knots around my wrists and rubbed them to get the blood flowing again. Tiny needle pricks shot through my fingers, but I was too exhausted to complain.

I was quite out of it for a bit, because when I became aware again, we were laying on my bed, naked above the blanket, and Anne was spooning me, her arm wrapped around me protectively. I sighed. And began to sob. My whole body was shaking.

“What is it, Bunnie?” Anne sounded genuinely worried.

“I - I don’t know.” And I really didn’t know, I was far too worn out to think. “So intense,” I hiccupped, and in answer, she pulled me close to her.

“I understand,” she whispered, “but you need to sleep.”

Which I did after some time - after a few more tears and after more sweet, soothing words from her - safe in her embrace.