“You only gave me two plates, Jess.” The nap had been all too short, and now I stood in the middle of the kitchen, still naked on my best friend’s insistence, plates in hands and feeling increasingly awkward.
“I know, just put them next to the stove and set the rest out on the far ends of the table.”
With a shrug I did, set out the silverware and fetched two glasses from the cupboard, filling them with sparkling water and putting them next to the silverware. My stomach was grumbling, my last meal having been yesterday’s dinner, and the smell of pasta filling the air was heavenly. I really hoped they weren’t planning to keep me hungry.
“Dinner’s ready in a minute, honey!” Jess shouted.
“Already on my way!” Catherine’s somewhat muffled answer came from upstairs, then a door slammed shut and I could hear her race down the stairs.
When she entered the room, my breath hitched. Gone was the frilly dress, replaced with a black leather outfit. Skin-tight pants which hid nothing of her curves, and a top with the shapes of her breasts worked in, a bit like a bodice, but higher, and adorned with lots of pointy metal studs. But the most dramatic change was her face. Her eyes were painted black, her lips a deep violet with a black line all around. It made her look dominating, almost feral.
She caught me staring and grinned.
From the corner of my eyes I saw Jess sitting down at the table. Catherine walked over to the other end, but before she sat down, she fixed me with a glare.
“What are you waiting for, stupid, serve us!”
So that was why there were only two plates. I filled both of them with the pasta and set one down in front of Jess, then walked around and put the other one in front of Catherine.
Just as I was taking a step back, she grabbed my arm and halted my movement, her other hand pointing at the plate.
“Tell me what’s wrong with that!”
I looked at her outraged expression with wide eyes, then at the plate, but I couldn’t find anything amiss. I told her so.
“And what’s that?” She indicated a few blots of sauce close to the edge. One of them was a bit smudged.
“It’s sauce,” I replied, still not getting her point.
“It’s a fucking fingerprint, that’s what it is!” She almost shouted, and I trembled with every word. “I don’t want your dirty fingers stuck in anything I eat. Did you wash them after you fucked your pussy with them?”
I bit my lip. Of course I hadn’t washed them, Jess hadn’t allowed me to. But her dirty talk had rekindled the heat between my legs, and now I was blushing like mad again.
“I asked you a question! Answer me!”
This was some kind of sick game, I realised, but one I had to play if I wanted to have a place here. “No, Catherine,” I answered meekly, “I didn’t.”
“Thought so,” she sneered, “now clean it up.”
I tried to take a step, but she still held me. If anything, her grip became tighter.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Fetching a paper towel.”
“No need for that, use your tongue.”
For a moment I halted, surprised. I had expected she was leading up to some sort of punishment. This I could do. I bent forward and extended my tongue, careful to keep my face away from the pasta, and began to lick at the offending dollops of sauce. It tasted heavenly.
Suddenly, Catherine’s fingers were pulling hard on my right nipple. It startled me, and my involuntary movement was enough that I could feel the hot, wet contact with the pasta.
“Dumb cow!” She hissed at me, and before I could react, her hand pressed down on the back of my head and shoved the side of my face into the pasta. “You want pasta? There you have it!”
She immediately let go of my head again, but the damage was done. I jumped upright and tried to wipe away the noodles sticking to my face, but she captured my other arm as well.
“Don’t you dare wipe your face. You’ll be staying like this until we tell you differently. Now stand still next to me, I want to eat.”
I felt like crying. This was crossing outside the realm of sexual play for me, but I didn’t dare to voice my opinion. Jess had been watching the exchange with glee in her eyes.
Then I was simply ignored. They both ate, raved about the delicious taste and made small talk. I just stood there and tried my hardest not to move, even when some of the quickly cooling noodles slipped down my face, a few of them coming to rest on my breast, a few dropping to the floor. The sauce was drying into a crust around my eye, and I could only imagine what a dirty mess I must look like. Having the wonderful smell of food directly under my nose didn’t help my hunger, and my stomach was in constant turmoil. Still, the longer I stood there, the more a strange, barely noticeable tingle wormed its way through my pussy. No, I was not getting aroused by that kind of treatment.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, they were finished.
Jess looked at me and giggled. “You’re a complete mess, pet. Come here.”
I traipsed over to her side, self-consciously, and stood in front of her, my hands fidgeting behind my back.
“Oh my,” she whispered, “such a dirty little girl. Let me help you get cleaned up.” And, to my astonishment, she leaned closer and extended her tongue, and like in slow motion, I saw her licking a trail up my breast and capture a noodle between her lips. I had never been touched by a girl’s tongue before, and I wanted to be repulsed by it, but it did feel good. Her tongue went across my breast again, this time starting at my nipple, and I couldn’t suppress a low moan. The corners of her mouth lifted upwards.
My chest cleared of offenders, she put her hands on my shoulders and exerted a soft pressure. I knew what she wanted and sank down to my knees. Doing so was something primal, a sign of submission, and as I looked up at her face my pussy clenched. She tilted my head with both hands, bringing the sticky side up, and then her mouth was on me, licking, kissing and slurping from my chin all the way to my eyebrow. It felt equally dirty and intimate. She repeated it, again and again, plastering my face with her saliva, until I was sure there couldn’t have been anything left from the pasta for the last few minutes. My breath was going in rapid gasps.
She turned my head straight again and looked deep into my eyes. “You like that, don’t you, and your pussy is wet. Tell me, and don’t lie!”
My pussy tried to answer on its own, clenching and gushing that I was sure the moisture must already be running down my thighs. “Yes,” I whispered back, hearing my own voice like through a curtain, “I liked that.”
“And…” she prompted me, her eyes expectant.
“My pussy is wet.” There it was, I could no longer deny it. “Oh my god.”
Jess’s giggle sounded like the tinkling of small glass beads. Her thumb softly stroked my cheek. “We’ll make a dedicated lesbian out of you before you know it, pet. You’ll forget all about those stupid jocks with their cocks.”
I shivered. Between the two of them, I felt like a puppet on strings, and they seemed to know just which one to pull. Yet, I did like Jeremy, I even thought I might love him. I was not a lesbian.
“You know, honey,” Catherine interjected, “we used to have dogs at home, and there is one thing my dad told me one needs to do with a new pet to take ownership.”
“And that is?” Jess asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Spit into its mouth, so it learns the taste of its new owner.”
Jess seemed surprised, but I could see her ponder the idea. “Well, why not?” She finally agreed and turned back to me. “Be a good pet and open wide.”
“Please,” I gasped, this was again crossing a boundary. But the look in her eyes didn’t promise any leniency. I let her guide my head backwards and hesitantly parted my lips.
“Stick out your tongue,” she whispered, “and wait for my command to swallow.”
It felt so dirty. Knowing what she was going to do was making my heart beat like mad and made my hands sweaty. Yet, for some reason unknown to myself, I followed her order and stuck my tongue out as far as possible. Then she bent her face over mine and paused. I waited, held my breath, while I could see her jaw working, collecting her saliva.
Then her lips parted, and a huge dollop of spittle dripped over her lower lip, getting longer and longer, until the connection became too thin and snapped, and it plunged into my waiting mouth.
“God, that’s so sexy,” she whispered and trailed a finger tip over my extended tongue. It came to rest on the tip of my tongue, with soft pressure, she guided it back into my mouth. “You can swallow now, then hop over and fetch your other owner’s gift.”
I gulped down the glob, my eyes never leaving hers, and as it slid down my throat, it brought on a whole new level of submission.
I got up on shaky legs and went over to Catherine, dreading the inevitable. Where Jess was, despite the humiliation she was dishing out, still tender and loving, her girlfriend was crude. And as I sank to my knees and took in the devious expression in her eyes, another shiver ran down my back.
I tilted my head back, opened my mouth and extended my tongue without being prompted.
She leaned forward, and I think she took even longer to collect my ‘gift’. Finally her mouth opened and the saliva dribbled out, but she moved at the last moment, and the glob of spittle hit my chin and dripped down onto my chest.
“Oops,” she commented drily, “my bad. Let’s try again.”
I fought the urge to close my eyes and kept waiting. My jaw was starting to strain, as was my tongue. This time it took even longer for her to get ready.
At last, an even bigger glob dripped down between my waiting lips, and I let out a relieved breath. Soon I’d be able to close my mouth and be done with this humiliating episode.
“Put your tongue back in and twirl it around, I want to see you play with my spit.”
I should have known that she wouldn’t make it that easy. I swirled her spittle around, moved my tongue as if I was kissing someone, and it seemed to satisfy her.
I gulped it down, and my stomach churned, begging me for something more solid.
“Clean up the mess on the floor, then you can do the dishes.”
I looked down and saw with dismay the bits of pasta that were strewn all over the floor at this side of the table.
Having learned from my earlier experience, I decided to err on the side of caution. “Can I - can I use a rag, Catherine?”
She smiled at me and caressed my cheek, and for a moment I thought she might show some compassion. “Silly pet. Of course not. Your soft tongue is just made for licking things from a dirty floor.”
A sigh escaped my throat, and I shuffled around, getting on all fours to start the vulgar task of licking up noodles from the floor.
“Let’s make it easier for you,” Catherine suddenly said. “You may rub your little clitty while you do so clean up. You seemed to enjoy that earlier.”
Again, I felt close to tears. Every time I thought I had resigned myself to my fate, Catherine shoveled a new humiliation onto me. But I’d sworn myself that I’d see this through. After all, it was only until I had the money for my own flat. So I bent down to start my task, one hand buried between my legs, and started to lick the first noodle from the floor, closing my eyes and trying not to think about what else my tongue might be picking up. Thank god it was clean, as kitchen floors go.
My position was more than awkward. With one hand diddling my clit, I was unable to hold up my weight with the other for long, so I had to lay my chest and cheek to the floor and suck and lick sideways at the noodles and sauce blots. It was demeaning. It was somehow hot. And my pussy seemed to love it, my wetness was now definitely coating my thighs, and each touch on my clit caused small, pleasurable spasms. I was being reduced to bundle of wanton lust.
The chairs scraped, and soon my two tormentors stood at my side, looking down at me and commenting my performance. I tried to ignore what they were saying, but some bits and pieces made it through my mental defenses.
“... like a puppy, the only thing missing is a tail… ”
“... niece ass, wonder what it would look like with red stripes… ”
“... other things to lick for her… ”
“... think she’ll soon be coming… ”
That comment was just about right. I had trouble breathing and trouble catching the last few noodles. My hips were gyrating, my finger dancing over my excited clit, and I became aware that I was moaning. I was making a spectacle. Jess and Catherine whispered something, too low for me to understand, and then I had the last noodle between my lips, swallowed it and hastily licked the floor around it clean.
I was torn. I was finished with my task, so could stop now, but playing with my clit had me right on the edge, less than a minute more, and I’d come. And I needed to come.
Then Catherine’s bare feet stepped closer until they were right in front of my face. For a moment I thought about pulling away, but then I noticed a drop of sauce between her big toe and the next. I looked up at her, and a nod confirmed my expectations.
I gulped. I couldn’t do this! Or could I? My fingers trembled as I extended my tongue and brought it slowly closer. I smelled soap, she must have showered while upstairs. And then my tongue touched her foot, licked the spot between her toes. I licked all around it, and I was still getting closer and closer to orgasm, so I didn’t think when Catherine raised her foot a bit off the floor. I simply opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around her toes, sucking on them like I had earlier on her finger. And at just this moment, when I became aware of the depravity of my actions, a foreign finger entered my pussy and started to fuck me.
I exploded, a sensation that ran through my body like an earthquake, setting every nerve ending on fire along the way. My cries of pleasure were muffled by Catherine’s toes, my legs gave out and I slumped down on my belly, the finger in my pussy not stopping for a second. I grunted and shivered, and waves and waves of aftershocks traveled deliciously through my body.
It felt like hours, but it was perhaps a minute until I got back control of my body. My right hand was still buried beneath my pussy, but Jess’s finger had finally left it. I parted my lips and allowed Catherine to extricate her foot. Her toes were dripping with my saliva, and she rubbed them clean on my cheek. I didn’t mind at this point.
“That was nice,” she commented, “I could get used to that. Maybe I should have you regularly give my feet a tongue massage after a long workday. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I pushed myself up from the floor and shook my head. No, I would certainly not like that. Yet, a small voice in the back of mind wasn’t so sure at all.
Jess helped me to my feet, and I was grateful for it. After two intense orgasms and a whole day without food I had hardly any strength left. Catherine excused herself to the living room, declaring that her favorite serial was about to start.
Jess embraced me from behind, and I instinctively leaned into her.
“That was so exciting,” she whispered into my ear, “you are a sexy little hell of a girl.”
“Thank you,” I whispered back, “I think.”
She giggled. “Don’t let Catherine’s demeanor fool you. She likes you.”
“Really? If that’s how she treats people she likes, I’d hate to have her as an enemy.”
That made her chuckle. “She’s not always like this. Though I don’t know, you seem to trigger some side of her I haven’t seen that often.”
“So it’s my fault?”
“No, silly.” She pinched one of my nipples and I yelped.
“Now get something into that empty stomach of yours. If it keeps up growling like this we’ll have the lion tamers breaking down the door. There’s enough pasta left to feed an army. Take your time, and then do the dishes. When you’re finished we’ll get you settled in. Now hop.” And with a swat to my bum that made me jump she left the kitchen too.
The funny thing is that, after her little speech, I felt closer to her than ever before. And truly grateful for taking me in. I pondered my messed up trains of thought for a moment, but then the hunger won out, and all philosophy was abandoned in favour of two helpings of Italian pasta.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/reluctance/thats-what-best-friends-are-for-1.aspx">That’s What Best Friends Are For Chapter 2</a>