There were no more daytime visits to the penthouse, no more lessons in the art of lesbian conquest. After much soul searching, Elspeth had definitely decided to do it without help. Not that those one-sided lessons had been much help in the first place, oh no, she had done enough foot-kissing for a while. Enough to last her a lifetime!
Anyway, even though there was still no real slavish worship from her dear little roomie, things were going smoothly and the prospects seemed bright. Joan loved her that was for sure. And eventually, if they didn't veer away from this one purposeful track, the lover would become a slave. Lesbian slave. My lesbian slave, Elspeth thought from time to time, and it never failed to give her a feeling of exhilaration.
At the moment, however, she knew better than to force the issue. Joan was having problems at the office these days. After weeks of striving – working overtime at the agency and even taking more work home with her – she had still made no distinctive progress toward the cherished promotion. And the poor lamb was down in the dumps about it.
"I just can't understand why, Elspeth. Nobody denies the fact that I've got talent, lots of talent; it's been proven over and over again. But the big shots still pass me by whenever there's a vacancy. Maybe I just don't look like an executive."
"You look okay to me."
"Hah! You once called me a mouse, remember?"
"Uh-huh. Cute little mouse."
"It's this damned hair of mine. Mousy."
"I like your hair, Joan."
"Thanks. But you don't hand out the high-ranking jobs at the agency. My hair is mousy brown and I've got no illusions about it. For that matter, it's never even been very important to me, it's just hair, that's all. At least that's what I've always thought. Well, most of the time, anyway."
"Most of the time? But not all of the time. Then you have considered dyeing it, right?"
"Of course. What girl hasn't? Once I even got as far as making a beauty shop appointment before I lost my nerve. I was all set to become a blonde."
"I'm glad you backed out, honey. I just don't think you're the blonde type. If anything, your hair ought to be darker, I'd say. Real dark, you know? Maybe even jet-black."
"Jet-black. Little me? Oh come now…"
"I mean it. To go with your eyes. You've got such gorgeous dark eyes. And if you had hair to match, no one would ever dare call you mousy again."
"You-you're serious? Elspeth, do you really think I ought to dye my hair black?"
"Uh-huh, I sure do. Black as you can make it. Only you shouldn't attempt the job yourself, at least not the first time. Get some professional help – and not in one of the cheap little neighborhood places, either. If you decide to do it, go to a good beauty salon, a big one, the best you can find. You only get what you pay for."
"I-I'll think about it."
"Well, think about getting the full treatment while you're there. Manicure, pedicure, massage, facial – the works. It'll make a new woman out of you. It's really something, too. They put a half-dozen operators on you at the same time."
"Sounds mighty tempting. I've never been in one of those swanky places. Pretty expensive, aren't they?"
"Sure, but worth every dollar. Damn! Joanie, I sure wish my bank balance carried a little more weight. I'd make the appointment and pay for it and then you'd have to go just to accept my gift. But I'm starting to run low, damnit, so it's just idle talk."
"Oh? Are you worried about money?"
"Not worried, exactly, just feeling the pinch. Pretty soon I'll have to get up off my lazy ass and go out and find a job, I suppose. What a drag! It's been such fun lounging around like a lady of leisure."
"Too bad. Somehow I had the idea you were in pretty good shape money wise. Uh… Elspeth, please don't be bashful if you happen to need a little loan."
"Oh shit, I'm not desperate; I haven't reached that stage yet. But thanks all the same, honey, you're sweet to make the offer. Hey now, how'd we get into this ugly subject, huh? We were talking about your troubles, not mine."
"The hell with my troubles. They'll keep until to morrow. Let's live it up tonight, shall we?"
"Sex?"
"Sure. What else?"
"I'm game. Want to get drunk?"
"Oh. I'd better not. I have a rough day coming up at the office tomorrow and I don't function too well with a hangover. But we could still… uh… you know…"
"It's more fun with booze. Like the time I got you loaded and then made you suck me in the living room. I really enjoyed that night. And so did you, right?"
"Who can remember? Elspeth, after you poured all that liquor down my throat, I practically drew a blank."
"Hmm. We'll have to try it cold sober sometime. Wouldn't you like to be my slave girl again?"
"I-I like making love to you. But this business about being a slave." Joan shook her head. "Anyway, I couldn't do that without getting stinko first."
"Well, if you'd rather not."
"Elspeth? You sound disappointed."
"A little, perhaps."
"Do you – uh… do you really want to?"
"You mean tonight?"
"Uh-huh."
"Yes. Yes, honey, I want to very much."
"Oh."
"How about you? Still doubtful?"
"I'm willing. I'll try, anyway. But please don't make me do any heavy drinking, okay?"
"Okay. No drinking at all." Suddenly excited, Elspeth rose from the sofa and slipped out of her robe. Then, instead of sitting down again, she just stood there and leaned back against the upholstered arm in a lewdly naked pose. "All right, Joan, get undressed. Quickly!"
"Huh? What's the rush?"
"I want your mouth and I want it right away. I want your mouth on my cunt. That's what the rush is."
"Oh. In that case…"
"What the hell are you waiting for? I want a naked slave kneeling in front of me. Right here in front of my cunt. I want you now!"
Joan appeared somewhat upset by the harsh command. Even her intake and expulsion of breath was erratic, agitated. But she nodded and stood up and began to strip, hesitantly at first and then with increasing haste.
Arms akimbo, Elspeth posed haughtily and watched the entire process with joy, triumph blossoming in her bosom. There was torment in the velvety sloe-eyes as Joan turned and twisted and got rid of her last stitch of clothing. She looked beautiful like that. Beautiful enough to love rather than dominate. But she was still standing, and conquest was in the making tonight; Elspeth stopped letting her thoughts stray and focused all her powers of concentration on the task ahead.
"My cunt is getting impatient."
"Please… must you say…"
"Impatient for your mouth. My cunt is getting…"
"Oh, must you talk like that, Elspeth? Must you? Cunt, cunt, cunt, that's all you keep saying."
"You don't like it?"
"Well, it's not very nice."
"You mean my cunt?"
"Huh?"
"You don't think my cunt is nice?"
"N-no, I didn't say that."
"All right, we'll leave my cunt out of this. It's not so impatient all of a sudden. You see, we've uncovered a bit of a problem now. Joan, I can only assume that you mean your cunt isn't very nice."
"I meant the word."
"Oh?"
"The word. You know. Cunt."
"But the word can only stand for the thing itself isn't that so?"
"You – oh, you're just trying to mix me up. Elspeth, this is silly, you know it is. Maybe if I was drunk…"
"Silly, is it? Hmm. You might have a point there, I'll have to think about it. Come closer, honey, stand right here while we mull it over. I always think more clearly when I've got something nice and soft to play with."
"Oh. Oooh!"
"Stand still." Elspeth had dropped one arm to take a caressing handful of inner thigh; now she jiggled the flesh playfully but with a certain authoritative possessiveness. "Let's see now, we were going to – oh yes, what was that word we were supposed to think about?"
"You know."
"Of course I do. Just the same, though, I'd rather hear it from you." Elspeth's hand relinquished its grip to glide upward, meeting with only token opposition as the thighs yielded and inched apart. Dallying at a leisurely pace, her fingers stroked and tickled their way into the nest of hair. "Well? What was that word again?"
A stifled moan sounded. Then, "C-cunt."
"Oh? You mean this?" Her fingertips wriggled, penetrating the bush of hair and eliciting a second moan. "Yes, I'm sure that's it. Hmm, I can't find anything wrong there. It's a very nice cunt."
"Please… please don't tease me."
"But I like teasing you. Come now, be truthful, don't you like being teased?"
"I-I…"
"But of course you do, I can tell," Elspeth fluttered her fingers, watching the tremulous rise and fall of the sweetly pouting belly. "Your cunt is wet already."
"I know it, I know it. I'm hot. But if you're just going to stand there and tease…"
"Such a nice soft cunt. Soft and wet cunt, very nice indeed. Can you feel my fingers, little cunt? Can you feel it when I touch the nice soft wet…"
"Oh!"
"Where do you feel it? Tell me!"
"In my cunt, my cunt, my cunt, cunt, cunt!"
"You like that word now, hmm?"
"Please!" Joan seized the marauding hand in both of hers and jammed it hard into the moist flesh, shaking all over, apparently on the verge of orgasm. "Oh, I love what you're doing to me, I love your hand in my cunt."
Elspeth yanked her arm free. "Okay. We got sidetracked, but that's all over now. My cunt is getting impatient again, impatient for your mouth." She moved her hands to her own body to form a frame of fingers around the juncture of her thighs, doing it in a deliberately lurid gesture. "Here it is, slave. Ready and waiting for you. Now get down there and suck!"
There was no hesitation this time. The harshness of her tone, the naked arrogance of her posed body whatever it was – sent Joan to her knees in a hurry. And with the mousy brown hair tumbling over her bare shoulders, she pushed her face deep inside the frame of Elspeth's fingers.
"That's my cunt you're sucking. Do you under stand? Let me hear you say it."
"Mmm… cunt."
"All right, slave, now you can suck it and say it at the same time. Just keep doing both until I come."
"Hmmm?"
"Say it! Cunt, cunt, cunt. Just like that. Over and over again. And don't you dare stop sucking, either!" Her meaning got across, somehow, and then Elspeth felt the heat of her slave's lips – so hot! – and heard the distant sound of her voice – cunt, cunt, cunt – and gradually surrendered to the demands of her own body. She abandoned herself, just standing there and leaning back against the arm of the sofa, no longer able to focus her mind. A weakness overwhelmed her, a weakness that turned her limp and dragged her downward like a great weight. Downward – toward the floor…
She wondered if Joan was tugging her. But no, she couldn't feel anything like that, just the weakness. Nor could she keep her bewildered brain from playing tricks on her. This body down here was soft and sweet and exquisitely feminine, and she simply had to kiss it. As her own body was being kissed.
Vaguely she realized that something was wrong. It was a struggle, but she managed to concentrate long enough to recognize the error. She should have stood there tall and proud and accepted the slave's homage as her rightful due. She should have gone on testing her new-found authority. But it was too late and concentration too difficult and everything seemed a lot easier if she just went on sucking. Sucking cunt. Cunt, cunt, cunt. As her own cunt was being sucked.