I jerked when two pairs of hands suddenly grabbed my knees and pulled them wide apart. My legs were encased by strong thighs and the front of my flimsy skirt was lifted and tucked behind the waistband.
I panicked. With my elevated position in the middle of the back seat, everybody would be able to see my exposed sex! I started to form a protest, but that died in my throat when hands came to rest on the insides of my thighs and started to rub softly up and down, reversing direction only an inch from my exposed pussy.
The earlier flames between my legs roared up again, and I whimpered. The girl behind me didn’t need more than a finger to push me back against her, and I felt her soft breasts and hard nipples against my back.
“My dirty, little virgin kitten,” she whispered into my ear, and I shivered, “you’re such a depraved little thing. Letting a stranger masturbate you. Letting other strangers touch you so intimately. Taking a ride to a stranger’s home and letting her expose you like this. Oh god, you’re such a slut!”
The words pierced right through me and kindled the shameful flame of arousal in me. I closed my eyes, and my head sagged back in submission, coming to rest on her shoulder. She was right, on all accounts, and I couldn’t understand what was happening. My pussy was once more producing juice like mad, and when the hands on my legs wandered even closer to my sex, and fingers started to trail the outline of my small, swollen plum, my whimpers became louder.
I was plunging into sexual wonderland once more, and my hands shot to my breasts on their own volition. Before they could make contact and elevate the pleasurable feelings, the girl behind me caught my wrists, and when she pulled them behind me and circled her arms around me, a pitiful noise escaped my throat.
The drive may have taken five minutes or an hour, I couldn’t say, because I was quickly reduced to a puddle of wanton arousal, writhing and trembling under the teasing of the fingers on my sex, yearning to feel them delve deeper into my folds, but being denied that gratification.
The next thing I became consciously aware of was being led across a narrow front yard towards the entrance of a small townhouse, both of my hands tightly held in bigger, stronger ones and my skirt still bunched in my waistband.
The girl - I was unsure what I should call her in my head, but settled for capturer - had walked ahead of us and unlocked the big wooden door. There was no time to appreciate the neat little garden or the pretty green borders painted around the windows on the corn-yellow walls for me. We filed in, and I came to stand right in front of a woman, about ten years the girls’ senior, with long, sleek black hair and wearing burgundy colored silk pajamas, lounging on a big couch and sipping from a glass with a straw.
At first, the woman looked as startled as I felt. Then her eyes narrowed. “Debs,” she hissed, “what do you think you’re doing, bringing that girl here?”
Debs, Deborah probably, at last I learned the given name of the girl. She didn’t appear fazed. “Cool down, Lydia, she’s one of Amy’s classmates and already eighteen.”
Calculating eyes roamed up and down my body, but I could see Lydia’s expression relax.
“Think about what we talked the other day? I think she’d be perfect.”
The woman’s eyes rested right between my legs, and I wanted to die with mortification. My hands were free by now, but they dangled uselessly by my sides.
“You think so?” Lydia’s face was elegant, slightly oval, with high cheekbones, pouty lips, a straight but narrow nose and big, silvery-grey eyes that seemed to be able to look all the way inside me. I fidgeted.
“We found her diddling herself in a changing booth at the mall, that’s why I decided to name her Diddly, by the way.” My cheeks exploded with color and heat. “I helped her out a bit while the girls watched. Made her taste herself before I took her virginity. She let me push her panties inside her and followed us home without even knowing my name. She’s the epitome of a slut.”
I hung my head and tried to sink into the ground. My eyes started to sting. I bit my lips and tried to hold down the sob of shame that wanted to escape me.
The couch rustled, and then pale feet with ruby nails entered the edge of my vision. A finger gently pushed at the underside of my chin and made me look up into her eyes, my knees almost buckling when our gazes met. Then another finger brushed over my pubes, and my hips jerked forward to meet it involuntarily.
A smile spread over her lips. “Yes, I think you’re onto something there, Debs.” Her finger guided my head left and right, and she studied my profile. “You live in the dorms?”
I nodded, just barely.
“You’re going to move in with us. Debs will drive you. Do you think your things will fit into the SUV in one go?”
My hearts missed a few beats. Move in? With people I didn’t even know? People who had done - were doing - such depraved things to me? A big warning light flashed in my mind, and a siren howled ‘danger!’
Her face was suddenly just inches from mine. “Answer me!”
I couldn’t look away from her eyes. Like through a fog, I heard my own voice answer her, clumsy and trembling, “yes, Lydia.”
* * * * *
I can’t remember all that much about the short drive to the dorms. Deborah asked me a number of questions about my classes, hobbies and family. She learned that my parents had moved to the other side of the country and that I didn’t really have close friends in town. She had me tell her about my changing room adventures in detail. My cheeks burned while I recounted those, but something about her was too compelling to keep silent.
My breath of relief when we found my shared dorm room vacated was audible. Sandy, my roommate, would sure have asked awkward questions.
Deborah went to work with skilled efficiency. She assembled the boxes on and around the coffee table and had me point out to her which of things were mine. I felt light headed, especially when she gave my assorted undies an examination. Clothes, underwear, books, paperwork and all those knick-knacks I had amassed over the years vanished inside the cardboard, and little more than ten minutes later we were packed and ready to go, my whole dorm room life stowed away in six moving boxes.
I scribbled a note to Sandy. “Moving in with friends. See you around. Love, Deirdre.”
* * * * *
My nervousness rose steadily on the way back. My life was being turned upside down, and I had no idea where this was leading. The only thing I could say for certain that things had taken a decidedly sexual turn, and that it would be Lydia and Deborah who controlled the direction. I watched the houses fly by outside the window and realized that this was something I had deep down inside been longing for. To give up control, to just be ordered what to do. My last years had been a constant competition to be accepted as a grown-up. Handicapped by my size and looks, I had to be tougher than the girls around me to appear strong, had to have better marks than others to be recognized as intelligent, and I had to be more in control of myself than others to avoid being ridiculed for every small verbal slip-up. Now I could stop pretending. And even get the sexual gratification I needed so desperately.
“Deborah?”
“Yes, little slut?”
I bit my lip, my face heating up once more, and almost kept from asking my question. “What will happen now?”
“Don’t worry about that, I’m sure you’ll like whatever happens. You’ll find out soon enough.”
That didn’t tell me anything, and I huffed. “Can’t you at least give me a hint?”
She giggled. “A hint? How about you’ll be naked a lot?”
I blushed even more. “Who else lives with you?”
“My, aren’t you suddenly getting inquisitive? It’s just Lydia and me, but we often have visitors around.”
“You and Lydia,” I managed to look at her, “are you sisters?”
Her bellowing laughter startled me. “Sisters? Oh my god, that’s a good one!”
“But -” She didn’t let me voice my question.
“Lydia’s my pimp.”
“Pimp?” The word came out with a high pitch and made me probably sound exactly like the young girl I was dressed as.
“Yes, pimp,” she confirmed with a chuckle. “Lydia’s got a whole host of clients who like young girls, and I make more money than I could with a regular full-time job. But I’m growing too old for some of them. To be honest, I’ve always looked a bit too grown-up for some of their tastes, and that’s where you’ll come in. You’ve got that innocent thing going, and you’re going to drive them crazy.”
My breath had stopped, and I felt close to fainting. What had I let myself in for?
She glanced at my paling face and sighed. “Don’t start panicking now. You’re going to love whatever happens, and you’re going to get your share of cash. Lydia’s a lot of things, but she’s always fair where money is concerned.”
“Still,” I stammered, “you want me to become a whore! If I’d known that…”
“If you had known that, you’d made a small tantrum, but then I would have played with your pussy again for a minute and you’d have agreed to anything I asked of you.” True to her words, her hand left the gear stick and touched me between my legs.
“No,” I started to protest.
But she was right. My skin immediately started to tingle where her fingers touched me, and when they tugged lightly on the corner of the panties still buried inside me, I failed to hold back the gasp.
“See,” she purred, “you already are a whore. You just didn’t know it. Stop fighting it.”
The last few miles were a straight road. Her fingers kept softly stroking my pubes, and I slumped back in the seat, closed my eyes and whimpered. There was just no denying her words.
* * * * *
We left the boxes in the car, and I was still in the same dazed state of mind when we approached the entrance door. Lydia was still on the couch, now with a notebook computer on her lap. She looked up at us and smiled.
“Good, you’re already back. I’ve invited Clare and Robert for the evening.”
“Oh my,” Deborah gasped, “that’s going to be interesting.”
“They’ll pay extra to be the first.” She typed something. “They’re going to be here at seven. It’s four already, so you should see that you get Diddly ready until then.