The first time I saw her was right after my English class. I was just leaving and she was just coming in. She was breathtaking. Tall. Blonde. Blue eyes (or so I imagined). Athletic. She could have been a volley ball player. Or a Viking warrior.  I crushed out instantly and pretended I was organizing my bag while watching her approach my instructor. They obviously knew each other. Student? Friend? Lover? I had no idea. All I knew is I’d have trouble not thinking about her for the rest of the day. The rest of the quarter, even.

Not wanting to be too obvious, I hurried out of the room and headed back to my room in the dorm.

College. My first year. First time away from home, too, although not entirely away. My brother went here too. He was three years ahead of me and lived at one of the frat houses, so I had him to fall back on if I needed to. A safety net. Not that I wanted one.

One of the drawbacks to living in the dorm was having a roommate. I desperately wanted to get myself off while thinking about the tall blonde girl. Woman, really. She looked older. 25 maybe? To me, that was older. I didn’t dare, though. Not until I was alone. I liked my roomie Maggie, but at that moment, I resented her a little. I am sure she felt the same on occasion.

Thankfully, it wasn’t the last time I saw her. She visited the classroom every Thursday around the same time. Eventually I pieced it together after overhearing a conversation. Professor Booth was her mother and they met for lunch.  I should have guessed. My English professor, although at least twice my age, was gorgeous and I’d had a few fantasies about her before I’d seen her daughter. It was obvious where she got her looks from.  By then I’d fingerfucked myself about a dozen times, fantasizing about her.

At first it was just the usual. She’d seduce me and we’d fuck. Then, some of my darker fantasies crept in. Some of my… interests. I’d figured out a few years ago that I was submissive and that I liked to be tied up. I’d actually convinced a boyfriend to do it once. I’d liked it. Only once, though. Not long after that I’d realized that I liked girls more. I guess that made me bi? I was still figuring that out, to be honest. Once I saw her – Inga – something else I’d learned overhearing their conversation, the idea of being with a guy lost all appeal. Not that I had a chance with her. She was out of my league. Older. Hotter. And she was my instructor’s daughter.

That all changed one evening. My brother invited me to a party at his frat house.

“It’ll be fun, Amy. Lots of good-looking guys. When was the last time you hooked up with someone?”

I shrugged. Not since coming here. No one really interested me enough. No one but Inga at least.

“I guess,” I told him. Actually, it might be fun to let loose a little. Get a little drunk. Just.. have a good time. Maybe there’d be some cute girls to flirt with. I was still in the closet at home and as far as Brian knew, I was straight, so I couldn’t be too obvious.

She was there too… turned out her younger brother also belonged to the same frat as mine… I ran into her, almost literally, while getting a glass of ‘special’ punch. Not sure what was in it, but the first one had been really good and left me a little tipsy and I liked the feeling.

I wasn’t sure what to say. After all, I’d never actually met her. I had been right, by the way, about the color of her eyes. The color of the sky. Eyes I could get lost in.

“You’re the girl in my mom’s class, aren’t you.”

She recognized me? Had I been caught out?

“English. Yes. I guess?”

She laughed. It was a nice laugh. Warm but with an edge to it. A laugh that sent pleasant shivers through me.

“You’re always staying a little later than the other students. I wonder why.”

“I…” I felt myself blushing. Because I’m obsessed with you, I thought. Not that I’d ever tell her that.

“Inga,” she said, introducing herself.

I already knew. Not that I told her that.

“I’m Amy.”

“Scoping out the guys, Amy?” she asked, teasingly.

I shrugged. “Not really. That’s what my brother thinks, but…” I decided to take a chance. It was the punch. “More interested in the girls.”

“Cool. Me too.”

My pulse quickened. Her too. She was… fuck me. I took a drink. A healthy one.

“I was just about to leave. Not really my scene. Walk with me.”

She wasn’t asking. She was… telling me. Not that I needed to be told. I nodded, trying to look cool and collected. I’m not sure I managed, but maybe?

We walked. It was a nice enough night. It was still autumn and the party had given me an excuse to dress up a little. I had on a pastel green sundress and a pale yellow button-up sweater and heels to make me look taller. At 5 foot 2 inches I needed all the help I could get especially next to Inga. My guess was she was about 6 feet tall in bare feet. And she was wearing heels. I felt very small beside her.  I kind of liked the feeling, though.

She was easy to talk to. Especially since I was a little drunk. She asked me all the usual questions, volunteering very little herself. Where I was from. What classes I was taking. What was my major. What kind of music I liked. Books. Movies. Hobbies. Before I knew it we were almost to my dorm.

“I live there,” I said, pointing.”

“Good to know. What room?”

“32. First floor.”

“I’ll let you go. It was nice meeting you. And now I have a name and an address for the cute little blond in my mom’s English class.”

Disappointment mingled chaotically with hope. The ice had been broken, at least. When I got to my room there was a note from Maggie. She was visiting her parents until Sunday evening. I didn’t waste any time crawling onto my bed and fingering myself into a frenzy over the image of Inga ravishing me. The orgasms – plural – were spectacular. Finall,y I drifted off into a semi-drunken slumber and dreamed of a tall blonde goddess named Inga. The next morning I didn’t even bother getting out of bed until I’d fingered myself to three more powerful orgasms. I was more than obsessed. I didn’t care. Wednesday, the day Inga usually visited her mother, couldn’t come fast enough.

It was torture waiting, especially since, with Maggie back, I was forced into celibacy once more. I felt on edge most of the time. And not being able to masturbate didn’t mean I wasn’t constantly thinking of her. Constantly aroused. To be honest, I was surprised no one seemed to notice that I gave off the scent of pussy. Or that I had to change my panties two or three times a day after they’d gotten too damp to wear.

Eventually, Wednesday did arrive and, like usual, I hung back in class long enough to get a glimpse of Inga. Not just a glimpse, this time. A smile and a hello as well.

“You look nice, Amy,” she commented.

“Thank you,” I said, well aware that I was blushing. I did look nice. After all, I’d dressed up a little just for her. Nothing that stood out too much. A modest black skirt. Pleated. And a short-sleeved pink blouse. The day had been cool, so I’d thrown on a red sweater.

She looked nice too. She always did, of course. Jeans that hugged her hips. A white cotton tee that was a little snug in all the best ways. And a charcoal hoodie. Sometimes she wore her long blond hair loose. Today she wore it in a braid draped over one shoulder, viking-style.

“Plans for the weekend?”

“I… umm… not really?” I answered, a little tongue-tied in her presence. She couldn’t help but notice. She looked down at me with amusement, sharing a smile that was meant only for me.

“You are adorable. Would you like to go to a party? A much more interesting one than last time?”

“I… yeah, sure,” I managed, my heart beating against my ribs so hard that I was surprised she didn’t hear it. Maybe she did.

“I’ll swing by your room. Saturday around 5. Oh, and Amy?”

“Yes?”

“Look nice for me.”

My throat went suddenly dry. I swallowed, nodding, not daring to say anything. And then, she was gone or rather, she was walking towards her mom, leaving me a mess.  Was it a date? Just a friendly invitation?  I didn’t want to think about it too much, but it was all I could think about for the rest of the day. And the day after and the day after that. And then, it was Saturday and I had all day to think about it some more. Another day of enforced celibacy, unfortunately. Or maybe not, considering what happened that night…

I spent the day nervously wondering what would happen, my head full of erotic thoughts. Foolish thoughts. Perhaps. Eventually, I got ready, giving myself plenty of time to change my mind several times. In the end I picked out a lavender form-fitting mini-dress and some nicer underwear. Not the usual cotton bra and panties I usually wore, but pink lace. If she never checked, no harm no foul. And if she did… That said, as short as my dress was, she might get an eyeful either way.

I painted my nails, fingers and toes, pastel pink, doing my best to match my panties. Pink lipstick. Eyeliner. Mascara. A pair of white sandals. As an afterthought, I tied my light brown hair back in a ponytail with pink ribbon and added a necklace. An ‘A’ for Amy on a silver chain. Because of my size I usually tried to make myself look a little older. I wasn’t just short, I was petite. Slim with small breasts. Impulsively I went in the other direction. I could easily pass for 16 right now.

She arrived a few minutes early. Thankfully my roommate was out with friends when she did.

“You look adorable,” she said, obviously pleased. I blushed a little under her appraising gaze, but managed to not stumble over my words.

“You look stunning,” I told her. It was the truth. She was wearing a black dress. Not as short as mine. Midthigh. It showed off her legs nicely. Her boots were black leather and went up to just below her knees. Of course they had heels. Three inches if I was to guess. She was wearing a coat. Charcoal grey and as long as her dress. It had been a bit cooler lately.

“Put on a coat, baby girl.” That was the first time she used that name. Not the last, though. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. Not right then. I’d soon discover that I’d grow use to it.

I only had two nice coats. She chose for me, telling me to wear the white one. It was a little longer than the dress I was wearing. Not much, though. She even helped me into it. It was feeling more and more like a date. I began to get my hopes up.

“Where are we going?” I asked, curious.

“My parents are out of town for the weekend and asked me to look after the place. So, of course, I had to throw a party. It’s expected, right?”

I had to laugh at that, thinking of all the parties my brother had thrown while mom and dad were on vacation. Some of them had gotten a little out of hand. I’d gotten drunk for the first time and lost my virginity all on the same night.

“Sounds fun.”

“It will be.”

She drove a black SUV. She put on music – Billie EIlish – and chatted off and on. I was still nervous. I know she could tell, but she didn’t say anything for which I was thankful.

Her parents lived out in the suburbs. Two-story house. Nice neighborhood. A nice yard. Enough space between houses that, unless things got really out of hand, no one would probably complain.

“You eat?”

“I… no. I forgot?”

She laughed at that. “There’s leftovers in the fridge. I’ll heat some up. Got about an hour before anyone shows up.”

We had leftover chicken with rice. And a salad. Inga poured some wine. It was good. Something expensive, I think. It loosened me up a little…

This time, she talked a little about herself, but she didn’t really give away much. I learned that she had been on the volleyball team and that she’d gotten her degree in computer science with a minor in art. As for her age, I was close. I’d guessed 25. Two years off. She’d just turned 27.

“Tonight’s sort of a belated birthday party. Not that I’m making that big a deal out of it.”

“You should have told me. I would have gotten you a present. Or something.”

“The night is still young,” she said, quietly, gazing across the table at me. There was a look of hunger in her eyes. One that made me shiver a little with desire. And maybe a little fear…

“What do you think is going to happen tonight, Amy?” she took me by surprise with the question. I shrugged, not quite sure what to say.

“Let me rephrase that. What do you hope will happen? The truth, please.”

“I…” I wasn’t really sure how to answer that. I knew what I hoped would happen, I mean. I just couldn’t say it out loud.

She laughed softly, an amused look on her face.

“I’ve seen how you look at me. I’m not blind. I see the lust in your eyes and I can fill in the blanks. Let’s try again. What do you hope happens?”

Nervously, I took another drink. And then another, finishing off my glass while she watched in silence. Patiently waiting.

“I… I like you. I mean, not just like…  ever since I saw you that first day I’ve had a crush.” Once started, the words just started spilling out. I couldn’t stop them.

“I wasn’t sure if this was a date? I think about you… a lot.”

“Do you want it to be a date?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding, saying nothing more.

“And tell me what you do when you think about me.”

It wasn’t a question. Our gazes locked and I could see that this was one of those moments that could change my life, depending on how I answered.

“I masturbate,” I mumbled.  

“I guessed as much. How often?”

“It’s hard to get any alone time. Whenever I do… I do. A lot.”

“Good girl,” she praised, another phrase I would get used to very quickly.

“You don’t think that’s… creepy?”

“No. I’m flattered. Ready for dessert?”

The change in subjects took me by surprise. I wondered, briefly, what she meant. Was it like one of those lines from a cheesy porno?

She put out a couple of slices of cheesecake, grinning at me, as if she knew what I’d been thinking.

“Happy birthday,” I told her, giggling a little.

“Happy birthday to me,” she replied, a predatory smile on her face. I shivered, feeling desire rising up within me. I wanted her. I wanted her to fuck me in the worst way. And I knew she knew it.

The party was… fun. Her friends were all her age. I was the only one under 25 here. Definitely the only one under 20. They didn’t seem weird about it, though. There was wine and beer and mixed drinks. I stuck to wine. I didn’t want to get drunk. Tipsy was nice, though.  It kept me loose.

“Open your mouth, put out your tongue,” she told me after most of the people who were coming seemed to have arrived.

I did exactly what she asked, curious. She dropped a gummy bear onto my tongue. “A little present. You ever get high?”

“A couple of times. In high school.”

“Your first college high, then. Having fun?”

“Yes.” I must have sounded surprised. She laughed and ran her fingers over my arm, starting at my shoulder, then slowly down to my forearm.

“Good,” was all she said.

As for me, I was suddenly aware that my panties had gotten damp somewhere between ‘having fun’ and ‘good’.

I’d like to say I was sociable, but mostly I stayed near Inga. For one, I felt a little shy. For another, I just wanted to bathe in her presence as much as I could. Not that she seemed to mind. She gifted me with more touches. The brush of fingers on my shoulder. The back of my hands. Running briefly through my hair. Not necessarily sexual, but they had that effect on me. I felt my arousal growing. Not only that, the edible that she’d given me was taking effect. In other words, I was getting high for the first time in over a year.

“It’s less crowded upstairs, Amy.”

I took the bait and followed her up the stairs, my panties getting damper with each step, my heart beating against my ribs in anticipation, pretty sure I knew what was going to happen once she got me alone. She’d been toying with me all evening after all. It wasn’t just hope. I knew. Or at least I thought I did…

I was wrong. Not entirely, but no, we didn’t fuck, much to my disappointment. We found a bedroom and closed the door. She sat me on the bed while she pulled a chair up in front of me. She’d brought a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses with her. She poured me a drink, then one for herself.

“My old room. Now it’s a guest room. Not a lot of me left in it,” she mused before regarding me for a moment, running her tongue between her lips as if deep in thought. Then, as if she’d reached a decision, she placed her hands in her lap, her phone cradled between them and nodded. Just once.

“Take off your dress for me,” she said. Simple as that.

Shyly, I pulled it off over my head, leaving me in cute pink panties and a matching bra. Glancing down, I realized she could see the damp spot my pussy was leaving and my nipples poking dents in the cups of my bra.

She smiled. It was a predatory smile that left me trembling.

“I am going to ask you questions. You are going to answer them. Truthfully. I’m also going to tell you to do some things and you are going to do them. If you don’t do either of those, I’m going to take you back to the dorm. Is that understood?”

I took a drink, licking my lips nervously as I met her gaze. Her very serious gaze. Not knowing what else to do, I simply nodded.

“Good. Now, spread your legs a little bit for me so I can enjoy the view.”

I only hesitated a moment before doing as she asked – as I’d been told – giving her an even better view of the growing wet patch on my panties.

“Do you like girls, Amy?”

“You already know I do,” I answered, giggling a little, suddenly feeling a little shy.

“I want you to tell me again. Do you like girls?”

“Yes,” I answered, wondering where this was going.

“Tell me what you thought was going to happen when I suggested we go upstairs. The truth.”

“That we were going to fuck?”

She chuckled softly and smiled again.

“Not tonight. Perhaps another time. If you continue to be a good girl. My good girl Take off your bra. I want to see your perky little tits.”

I paused, feeling a stab of disappointment as I stared at her. She was gorgeous. My perfect fantasy woman come to life. I decided that I wanted what she was promising in the worst way, even if I wasn’t sure what that was. I wanted to be her good girl. Reaching behind me I undid the clasp and freed my breasts. Not porn star breasts. Barely b cups, but perky and well-shaped. At least I thought so.  Apparently, so did she.

“They’re perfect.”

I couldn’t help but beam.

“Don’t forget your wine.”

I giggled a little drunkenly at the reminder and took another drink. A healthy drink letting myself fall under her spell. It didn’t hurt that I was also pretty high.

“And you’re submissive.”

More of a statement than a question.

“Is it that obvious?” I wondered aloud.

She laughed a little.

“Yes. At least to me. Now, answer the question.”

 “Yes. Very. At least when… with you,” I added.

“Just me?”

“I don’t know. In my fantasies, maybe, but… no one’s made me feel like this before.”

“Good. I like that.”

I shivered, hearing the hunger in her voice, thinking she wanted me almost as much as I wanted her. I began to breathe a little harder. Visibly harder, my breasts rising and falling, my nipples swelling, becoming more sensitive. I wanted her to touch them in the worst way. Touch them. Twist them. Lick them. Bite them. All the things that no one had ever done before. I wanted her to… use me…

“Put your hand in your panties. Stroke your pussy for me. Slowly.”

Spreading my thighs a little wider I obeyed, slipping my fingers into the waistband of my panties and running my fingertips over my wet pussy while she watched. I could feel myself blushing at putting on such a wanton show for someone I barely knew. I felt my pulse quicken with every tentative touch, my lips parting with every breath and every tremor as she watched in silence before continuing.

“Do you like to be tied up?”

“Uh huh,” I breathed, panting a little. I’d never climax like this. I needed more, but I could feel my lust growing incrementally.

“At least I did the one time I was…” I amended. “A lot.”

“Good girl. That’s what I want. Honest answers. Now… would you like me to tie you up?”

“Yes, please?” I didn’t care how pitiful I sounded. I wanted to sound pitiful. I needed her to know how much I wanted her to do… whatever she wanted to me. I knew I was in uncharted territory, but I didn’t care. I needed her to want me as much as I wanted her.

“Stop what you’re doing, Amy. Take your hand out of your wet little panties.”

I didn’t want to. It felt so good. I did anyway, remembering her promise. If I was a good girl… 

“Let me see.”

I held my hand out, biting my lip. My fingers were visibly wet. Glistening.

“Lick them clean, baby girl. Taste yourself.”

And, of course, I did, making a show of running my tongue over them, smearing my pussy and saliva on my lips, sucking them, one at a time and tasting myself like a porn star. Swallowing. I felt nasty. I was nasty. A nasty little horny girl.

“Do you like pain?”

I hesitated. I liked being bit. I thought I did. The idea excited me, at least. Nothing extreme, though. No whips or needles or anything like that.

“A little. Not a lot?” I told her truthfully before taking another drink. The wine was good. Smooth. I could feel my inhibitions bleeding out of me through my overheated pussy. Soon they would be gone completely.

“Fair enough.”

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until I let it out, much to her amusement.

“Nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Good. It looks good on you. Now, play with your nipples for me. They are delightful. And play with yourself some more,” she added.  More of an afterthought it seemed.

She sat there, watching, hands resting on her lap, crossing her feet casually at the ankle. I couldn’t help but notice that the hem of her dress had crept up a little. Relaxed as I teased myself. The realization that I was edging myself for her gratification crossed my mind. Not that I cared. I wondered if she was going to let me come. Probably not, not that I cared at that point.

“Go ahead, play with your clit, baby girl.”

No one had ever called me baby girl before. Not before tonight, at least. Not something I wanted anyone to call me. Anyone but Inga, that is.

“Slowly. No accidental orgasms. You come and this is over. Understood?”

“Yes,” I breathed, my gaze meeting her cold, hungry eyes. I had little doubt that she meant it. It was hard, though. I wanted to just lose control and fuck myself until I cried out loud with pleasure.

“Ready for the hard questions?”

Hard questions? I had no idea what she meant. Not like I was going to tell her ‘no’, though. Not at this stage. I needed to make it through her… test? I needed to find out what came after. Hopefully, me.

“You don’t like pain. Not too much. What do you like? Don’t bore me with things like romantic walks on the beach,” she grinned.  “The things you won’t tell anyone else. Fetishes. Secrets. Forbidden desires. While you’re doing it, fingerfuck yourself. For me.”

I let out a moan. Pleasure, lust, and fear all running together in a heady mixture as I slid my fingers into my pussy, knowing she could tell, and began to slowly fuck myself with them. For her.

“Good girl. Keep it up. Right to the edge, but no further. Now, share your deepest, darkest desires.”

“No,” I whimpered, trying to fight the compulsion.

She just smiled and leaned forward. It was a knowing smile. A cruel one. One that nearly undid me.

“It’s too late for ‘no’, Amy. Take your time. Not too much, though. I have guests to look after. Don’t want them coming up here looking for me. Do you?”

I shook my head emphatically at the thought.

I closed my eyes and concentrated very hard on not coming as she continued. I tried thinking of mundane things. Buildings. Books. Math problems…

“We’ve already established that you like girls. That you like to be tied up and that you like a little pain. Just not a lot. And you’re submissive.”

I didn’t think she was looking for an answer but I nodded anyway so she’d know I was paying attention.

“What about watersports? Ever piss in front of someone? Or on someone?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“What about being pissed on?”

I shook my head again.

“Would you like to?”

Her voice was soft. Soothing, even. The veneer of cruelty from earlier gone.

“I… don’t know?”

“What if I peed on you, Amy? Held your head, forced it between my thighs, your mouth pressed against my pussy, my piss hot against your lips?”

I couldn’t help but picture it the scene. Inga grabbing my hair, guiding me to her pussy. My nose pressed into her blonde pubes. Or maybe she shaved? Tasting her juices. My tongue pushing between her swollen lips as she let go. So dirty. Her piss running down my chin, my throat, my tits… I let out a soft moan of pure desire and was rewarded with a gentle laugh and the softest of touches as she leaned forward and brushed her fingers over my knee.

“Should I take that as a yes?”

“I… yes?” I managed, trembling with almost overwhelming need. I wanted more. I wanted her to touch me again like that. I felt her breath against my face. My lips. Opening my eyes I discovered that she was sitting on the edge of the chair. Her face close to mine, watching me intently.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it.”

“No,” I whispered.

“And you want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I murmured truthfully.

Leaning forward she kissed me. Just a soft brush of her lips against mine. It was divine. I ached her for her. Ached for more. I could feel my juices leaking from my cunt, making a mess of my panties. And the bedspread, probably. My nipples were so swollen they actually hurt and I could feel a little drool leaking from between my parted lips as my lashes fluttered erratically.

“Fuck,” I managed, slowing down, purposefully not touching my clit. I wasn’t supposed to come. I concentrated very hard on pulling back from the edge. It wasn’t easy, but I wanted to be her good girl more than I wanted an orgasm. I wanted the promise of another night with her.

“So cute,” she teased. “What about dressing up? If I asked you to would you dress up for me? Perhaps like a schoolgirl. You’re small enough and young enough to be convincing.”

“Probably. If you wanted me to,” I admitted.

“Do you like being spanked?”

“I don’t know,” I imagined myself over her lap in my schoolgirl costume. Her pulling my pleated plaid skirt up over my ass and my pristine white cotton panties down my legs.

“Yes?”

“I thought so, baby girl. Such a naughty thing.”

Again, like with ‘baby girl’, I liked the way it sounded coming from her. Her naughty little girl. God, I was so far gone it was almost pathetic. I didn’t care. I kept playing with myself, spreading my thighs a little wider, giving her a good look at the mess I was making in my panties. They were soaking wet now. I could feel it without looking.

“I think we can safely assume you’re an exhibitionist too. At least you like me watching. How would you feel if I invited someone else in here to watch? Several others, maybe? Some of the guys downstairs. Or some of the girls?”

“If you wanted?” I didn’t really like the idea. Or I thought I didn’t and yet I found myself almost glowing at the thought of being watched while I finger fucked myself for Inga.

“I’m going to take some pictures now. Some video, actually. I’ve been recording this. Just audio though. Is that okay?”

“I…” was it? I wasn’t sure. And yet…

“Okay?”

“Good girl,” was all she said, and I let out a soft sigh of longing that seemed to go on forever, gaze glued to the camera as she started filming, starting with my face and moving down to my heaving tits, my bared tummy, and finally to my panties, my hand hidden inside them as I fingered my dripping wet pussy for her. I’d never been filmed like this before. Never. I shook, fear and lust crashing together like waves inside me as she captured me debasing myself for her gratification. Giving her a private little porn show.

“Don’t worry. Just for me. A little memento to remember you by. I’ll send you a copy. It will be a nice reminder for you, too.”

She moved the camera back to my face. I can only imagine what she saw. Lust. Fear. Desperate need. Lips parted, soft moans, whimpers, labored breath. Drool coating my lips. My eyes glazed over with pleasure…

“Now for the really hard questions. Look at the camera. I want to capture all of this.”

“Okay,” I whispered, staring at the camera, unable to resist.

“Everyone has secrets. Things they fantasize about but would never do. Things they would never tell anyone else. The taboo. The forbidden. Deep dark secrets.”

I swallowed as she reached out and brushed her nails over one of my swollen nipples. I pushed my fingers deeper into my pussy, gasping with pleasure, my thighs trembling as they closed, trapping my hand between them. I was on the verge of climaxing.

“Oh my god.”

“You’re not going to ruin this by coming, are you, baby girl?”

“No” I gasped, fighting it, desperately pulling myself back from the edge, forcing myself to stop, my fingers trapped motionless inside my soaking wet cunt as she took my nipple between her thumb and finger and gently pinched it, then twisted.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,” I swore, eyes rolling back as I struggled to keep my promise.

“Tell me yours, Amy. Your deepest.  Darkest.  Secrets.”

I couldn’t. Even though there was a part of me that wanted to, I couldn’t. All I could do was moan as she let go of my nipple then did the same to the other.

“Tell me. Let me help. Maybe you want to fuck your daddy. Is that it? Is that your secret perversion? Incest? Late at night you fuck yourself imagining it’s your daddy? His cock buried in his slutty little daughter’s cunt? Treating you like his whore. Is that it?”

I shook my head. “No,” I mouthed, barely able to speak.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not. Honest,” I whimpered, desperate for her to believe me.

“What about your brother? A sister? Have you ever imagined sucking your brother’s cock? Going down on your sister?”

“My brother? Eww. No!” I think I made a face, repulsed by the very idea. I mean, Brian? Seriously? Not a chance.

“Sister then?”

“I… no,” I answered, meekly.

“You hesitated. You sure?”

I didn’t answer. Not right away, at least.  Julie was my older sister. She’d gone to school here too. Already graduated. And she was beautiful. When I was 16 I’d come home from a party. She was home visiting. I was a little drunk. I’d walked in on her in the shower. No big deal. Only… god, she was so fucking gorgeous. And sexy. And I was horny. That night, I had masturbated while thinking of her…

“No. I’m not sure. Maybe?”

“Maybe?”

“I was a little drunk. I had to pee. I walked in on her. She was naked She was so sexy.”

“What happened afterwards?”

I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.

“I apologized and went to my room.”

“What’s her name, Amy?”

“J-Julie.”

“Thinking of her? Thinking of Julie?” she prompted, leaning forward. I felt my heart pounding as I nodded.

“Yes,” I whispered, blushing.

“How did it make you feel?”

“Weird. Guilty, I guess.”

“What happened then? You masturbated thinking about her?”

I squirmed, not wanting to answer. Not wanting to talk about her anymore, but I answered anyway.

“Yes.”

She leaned in close again, her hands resting on my thighs. Slowly stroking them with her fingertips.

“Did you come?”

“Yes,” I whimpered.

“Was that the only time?”

“I…  Yes,” I lied.

Now that Inga had planted the image in my head it was hard to shake. I closed my eyes, remembering that night. Remembering my fantasy as I lay in bed and played with myself. Julie, laying naked on her bed. Me on top. Kissing her. Going down on her. Burying my face in her pussy.  Not that I would. Or had ever thought about it before that night, but…

I think she knew, too. Knew what she’d done. Her smile had gone cruel again and I felt her fingers trailing up my thigh, moving incredibly slowly, the tips of her nails brushing over soft, sensitive flesh until they reached my forearm. The back of my hand. The one inside my panties. Stroking gently, closer and closer to my pussy.

“Are you thinking about her now, Amy?”

I squirmed uncomfortably, not wanting to admit where she had led my thoughts.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” she teased.

I felt her finger brushing over my pussy lips and jerked with pleasure, unable to do anything about it, my fingers stuffed inside my drooling cunt, too afraid to move, hovering on the edge of an orgasm as I felt her touch my throbbing clit.

“It wasn’t the only time, was it, Amy. Tell me about the other times.”

I felt a stab of panic. Somehow she knew…

 “I can’t,” I managed.

“Oh, so it was more than that one night,” she said, grinning almost triumphantly.

“No,” I whispered.

“I don’t believe you. The truth, Amy. Remember? What do you think about, late at night. What makes you come the hardest? What secrets have you never ever shared with anyone?”

I felt her fingers around my wrist, gripping firmly, moving my hand, so that I was fucking myself again. Forcing me to slowly fuck myself. Her thumb brushing back and forth over my clit.

“I can’t,” I whined desperately.

“What if I told you that I would let you come if you told me. As a reward for being a good girl.”

“I…”

I began to shake. I could feel her pushing me to the point of no return. It was no longer a matter of if I came. It was a matter of when. She knew exactly what she was doing to me. I felt a brief flash of hate and she kissed me again. A real kiss, not just a brush of lips against mine. It was brief, but oh god, it felt so good.

“Tell me. Trust me, it will feel good to finally tell someone else.”

It would. There are times when I wanted to confess. Times when I hungered to share my secret. But…

“Please don’t make me?”

“I won’t make you. But I think you want to. You want to tell me something that you’re ashamed of. Something nasty. Something forbidden.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I felt her push my fingers deeper, a little faster. A little harder. I suddenly realized that I’d spread my legs again. That I was soaking the bedspread. That drool was running down my chin.

“Something filthy. Something wicked.”

“I… I think about…”

“What do you think about? What don’t you want to tell me?”

“Her tying me up.” I said it quietly. So quietly I wasn’t even sure I made a sound. I guess it wasn’t quiet enough.

She laughed softly. “Louder, baby girl. For the camera.”

I’d forgotten all about the camera. About the video she was taking.

I shook my head, wishing I hadn’t said anything. It was too late now, though. She’d heard.

“Say it.” Her voice was firm as she pressed her thumbnail against my clit, driving me crazy with desperate lust.

“Her tying me up,” I managed, breathless.

“Who tying you up?”

I was too far gone to care anymore. Anyway, she knew. There was no taking it back. The words just began spilling out of me. I couldn’t stop myself.

“Her,” I whispered breathlessly.”

“Say her name, Amy. I want to hear it.”

“Julie. I want Julie to tie me up.” I could barely get the words out, I was moaning so hard, consumed by almost unimaginable pleasure as I shared my perverse secret.

“And who is Julie?”

“My… my sister.”

“Good girl. Now, tell me more about your dirty little fantasy.”

She slowed, leaving me teetering on the brink. I’d almost gone over, crashing into a mind-blowing orgasm when I made my confession. Almost. So close. It was torment. Again, a brief moment of hatred burned through me, and then it was gone, and her mouth was on mine, her tongue slipping between my lips, longer this time, flooding me with ecstasy and leaving me breathless when she was done.

“Tell me.”

“I think about being tied down on my bed. Helpless.”

 “Is anyone else there?”

“Yes. A… woman…”

“Not just any woman, is she.”

“No. My… sister.”

“Say her name, baby girl.”

“Julie,” I managed, trembling as she leaned in and ran her finger slowly between my pussy lips, gathering up my juices on her fingertip.

 “Go on.  What happens next?”

“She’s… wearing a strap on…”

 “Describe it”

“It looks real. And it’s big. Too big.”

“And then what?”

“She…  gets on top of me. I struggle. Beg. It doesn’t matter. I’m tied down. She starts to fucks me. It hurts and I hate it, at first, and then… I stop hating it.”

“You want your sister to fuck you like that for real, don’t you.”

 “No! It’s a fantasy. That’s all. I would never-“

“Never?” she interrupted. Not even for me?”

“I…” I felt her fingers sliding in and out of my cunt again. Agonizingly slow. Keeping me on the brink. Keeping me in a fog of lust.

“What if I told you I could make that happen. What if I told you I know Julie. That we’re friends,” she said, her voice soft as she finger fucked me leisurely. Like she had all the time in the world.  “Would you let her fuck you like that?”

“No, I moaned, shaking my head wildly.

“Not even for me?” she pressed, thrusting her fingers suddenly deeper.

“Maybe?” I managed, my eyes threatening to roll back in my head.

“Try again, slut,” she said, her voice hard, the thrust of her fingers even harder, holding them inside of me, massaging my g-spot until I was squirming on the bed.

“Yes?” I managed, wondering what I was agreeing too, suddenly afraid I had crossed a line I didn’t want to cross. 

“Good girl,” she said, praising me, her voice comforting once more, and I felt myself relax a little.

“So… what do you say?”

“Say?” I asked, somewhat confused.

“Tell me what you want, Amy. Tell me exactly what you want me to make happen. Not just a fantasy. For real.”

“No. I can’t,” I whimpered, shaking uncontrollably as she brought me right to the brink.

“Yes you can, baby girl.”

 “I need…” I whimpered softly, hoping I wouldn’t have to ask. To beg.

“Yes?”

“I need to…”

“Come?”

“Yes,” I whispered shakily.

I almost screamed when I felt her fingers slipping out of my messy cunt.

“You promised!”

“That was before I knew your dirty little secret,” she said, grabbing my face and forcing me to gaze into her cold blue eyes.  “That was before I knew what you really wanted.”

“What do you mean?”

“You want the fantasy to become reality, don’t you, baby girl?”

“No!” I protested.

“Don’t lie to me. Tell me.”

“I… I don’t know,” I told her, my voice quiet, our gazes locked, tears leaking from my eyes as I felt myself surrender to her much stronger will. That and my perverted desires.

“Tell me,” she repeated firmly.

“I… Yes?”

“Yes, what?”

“I want… that.”

She paused and kissed me. A gentle kiss. Tender even.

“Tell me, baby girl.” She leaned back, and held the phone up again, focusing it on my face. Swallowing, I searched for the words, aware that shame and embarrassment were coloring my cheeks pink. Something else as well. A deep-seated dark desire that I’d kept secret since I could remember…

I knew exactly what she wanted. I forced myself to look directly at her phone, into the camera, eyes wide and full of lust, still breathing heavily with desperation as I made my confession.

“I want to be tied down… I want Julie to tie me down. I want to be helpless to escape. To… do anything.  And I want to be… I want her… I want her to fuck me…”

 “Just fuck you?”

I suddenly realized that she was leading me. Directing me, I guess. And I was letting her.

“I want her to use me like a slut,” Without thinking, I reached into my panties again and started playing with myself, a little surprised that she let me. Less surprised that she leaned back so that she could focus the camera on all of me. Not just my face, but my tits and my hand inside my dripping wet panties.

“Use your pussy?”

“Yes. Please.”

“What else.”

“Make me… suck her strap-on. Her… cock?”

“Kinky.  What about your ass, Amy?”

“If… she… you… want.”

“Tell me.”

“Fuck me in the ass. If you want that too.” I was getting close again. So fucking close I could feel it. She knew, too. I could see her nodding, encouraging me to keep going.

“Just her?”

“I… what do you mean?”

“Do you just want her there? Or do you want someone else? Maybe just watching. Watching you being defiled? Answer truthfully. Remember, good girls get to come. Maybe I’d like to watch. What if  I was there too?”

“I… No,” I whimpered, feeling my orgasm building. I was moments away from being at the point of no return. And I didn’t care anymore. I would tell her anything she wanted to hear just so she would let me come…

“You don’t get to decide, baby girl. I do. I might enjoy seeing your sister fucking you. Filming it. Maybe even posting it on a porn site.”

“Please… Don’t. Oh my god, I can’t hold it back any longer!”

“Go ahead,” she said, granting me permission. A moment later I exploded in the most glorious, earth-shaking orgasm I had ever experienced. And it kept going. I couldn’t stop fucking myself, making myself come again and again until finally I was exhausted, collapsing on the bed, a complete mess, unable to even speak.

I lay there like that for several minutes, the only sound in the room my heavy breathing until she finally broke the silence.

“Good girl.”

“Yeah?” I managed.

“Yes,” she replied, regarding me with a pleased-looking smile.

“I have to go now, baby girl. Get back to my guests before they come looking for me and find us. Or maybe you’d like that.”

“Maybe,” I managed, my voice shaky.

 “Give me your number.”

I did, watching as she keyed it into her phone. 

“I’ll text you later.”

“Promise?” I sounded pathetic. I didn’t really care, though.

 “Promise. Stay here as long as you need to then get dressed and come find me.”

She left me like that. Laying on her old bed, dressed only in cum soaked panties, kind of drunk, a little high, and still horny as hell. Eventually I managed to get dressed and go downstairs and find her. She was with a group of friends. Guys. And I smelled like sex… I quickly made an excuse and called for a ride back to the dorms. When it arrived, she walked me out to the car.

“I’ll text you. Tomorrow. Have a nice night.”

And then, she kissed me. Not just a kiss. The kind of kiss you give your lover. In front of the driver, even, not that I cared. I returned it passionately, wishing it would go on forever, a little disappointed when she finally broke it.

“Tomorrow.”

When I got back to the dorms, I was happily surprised to find out I had my room to myself. Without pausing I crawled into bed and finger fucked myself to another monster orgasm while replaying the events of the night in my head before falling into an exhausted sleep, my dreams filled with depraved images of being tied down and fucked hard by my older sister…

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