Her Cold Warbykrr1957©
This story deals with themes of reluctance and coercion in a lesbian setting. If you think that you might be offended please try another story.
If I had to find a few adjectives to describe myself I would use pretty, intelligent, principled; someone guided by a clear moral compass.
Then why was I kneeling on the bed with the headset tight against my ears and the microphone pressed to the wall?
I had spent the afternoon using the monitoring equipment to familiarize myself with the inner workings of the one ton 1963 Model 2 Gerlich safe and it was a simple matter to sneak the kit up to my room.
The muffled noises from Xander's bedroom had intrigued me for the past two days, and a glass against the wall had availed me nothing, but the microphone conferred a frightening clarity.
It was Xander's assured voice, her cut-glass English accent the product of a "ruling class" upbringing and the best private education that money could buy. I had always been coy about revealing my body to others but I imagined that Xander had no such qualms.
She was effortlessly beautiful and when three of us had gone to The Curzon to see the newly released "Les Parapluies de Cherbourg" at the weekend we had all remarked on her resemblance to the young French actress who had played the part of Geneviève.
Since arriving I had wondered if our room pairings were planned or simply random. Clara's pleading voice revealed how much she had in common with me. We were both state educated and the beneficiaries of scholarships which had enabled us to study at Oxford. In short, we were the poor relations in the group and would have made natural roommates.
"Don't disappoint me...take off my dress."
Even now the conversation could be taken as perfectly innocent but my heart was beating faster. A long silence was eventually pierced by the unmistakable rasping of a long zip and I imagined Xander with her expensive underwear revealed.
"I need to sleep. We're being tested tomorrow afternoon."
Clara's tone of voice was enough by itself to express the tiredness that we all felt but Xander was unheeding.
"You can sleep when you're done. Help me out of these."
With every second that passed I expected Clara to rebel. Since day one Xander had regaled us with stories of the string of men that were in thrall to her and I assumed that Clara was not without experience.
She was petite but she had an enviable body and a flawless English rose complexion which set off her striking blue eyes and smiling mouth. She wore very minimal make-up and I saw the way that men looked at her.
Xander's beauty was like a force of nature but Clara had a more subtle appeal that had you questioning just what it was about her that made her stand out.
I tried to imagine what was happening on the other side of the wall but Xander painted the picture with words.
"Down on your knees you little slut."
I had no experience with other women but, having studied at St. Hilda's all-girl college at Oxford, I was no stranger to lesbianism. It was not something that had previously stirred me in any way.
"Xander...this is so wrong"
"Don't pretend you don't want it. Look how wet you've made me."
Her simple statement hit me like a cosh. I had never imagined a man talking this crudely let alone another woman. For a couple of seconds I lifted the microphone from the wall but then quickly set it back in place.
"Gently...just my lips."
The image in my mind sharpened. I was very conscious of my own protuberant labia, and had often wondered if a man would find them off-putting, but now I imagined Xander to be similarly endowed. Those few words, and the confidence with which they were spoken, made me think anew.
"That's a good girl...one at a time."
I brushed my hand down the front of my dress beneath which I could feel the heat radiating through my cotton panties. It had taken me years to overcome my mother's injunction not to touch myself and to rid myself of guilt but to do it whilst eavesdropping in this manner seemed so terribly wrong.
"No hands....just your tongue."
I gave a groan as Xander got inside my head demanding the most intimate of contacts. My eyes closed and my tongue moved in my mouth now awash with saliva.
"Stop for a moment...breathe me in..."
I did as she asked and caught the faintest hint of arousal knowing that it could only be my own.
"Inside now...nice and slowly..."
It was almost more than I could do to keep my tongue in check. Was Clara still reluctant or was she as spellbound as I?
"That's good...now deeper."
I could not help myself. I slipped my hand inside my panties and found myself obscenely wet. I was almost overwhelmed by the urge to strip naked but I feared to miss anything. I thought that I could hear the soft suck of moisture but the microphone was not that sensitive and it could only be my own fingers at work the sound penetrating the soft padding of the headset.
"Tell me how much you love the taste..."
Clara's reply was muffled. She could have been expressing adoration or protestation, it was hard to tell.
"Don't dribble...I want to hear you swallow."
I felt a sudden yearning to know that taste and, for the first time, I pressed my fingers deep into my sex and then brought them to my lips. I knew it was terribly wrong but I could not help myself. I was familiar with my own scent but it gave no inkling of the richness that now flooded my mouth.
For a moment I was torn. My sex ached with need but I was reluctant to stop suckling my fingers. I wondered if I could keep the flat microphone pressed to the wall without using my hand but it was not going to work.
With a whimper of frustration I brought my slickened fingers back to my sex and pressed them deep inside whilst, at the same time, I moved the microphone a fraction to try and hear more.
I was startled by a sudden roar in headphones and it took a second or two to make sense of it. Xander's voice was now so clear it was if she were speaking directly into my ear.
She must have backed herself against the wall and I felt a thrill of excitement knowing that we were now separated by just six inches of bricks and plaster.
"Come on, deeper than that, I don't think you're trying."
Whatever Clara did in response elicited a groan of satisfaction from Xander that almost vibrated through the wall. It seemed to be transmitted to my fingers and then throughout my whole body as I was shaken by the unexpected onset of an orgasm which had me biting down on my upper arm to stifle my reaction.
As I recovered it was obvious that Xander had far more self-control than me. Her mesmeric voice slowly seeped back into my consciousness.
"I hope that's not a complaint you ungrateful little slut. You're finished when I say you are. I want to feel that clever little tongue of yours on my clitoris."
I was a grown woman but I had ever heard anyone say that word out loud before. For me it was something almost clandestine, that tiny bud that could instil such pleasurable paroxysms. I looked forward, one day, to being married but I could not imagine a man with the understanding or the delicacy of touch to fulfil me as I could myself.
Xander shattered that illusion of secrecy. I began to visualize her unashamedly opening herself to Clara's gaze putting on display that which I would conceal with bedclothes and the cover of darkness.
In my imagination her clitoris was less discreet than my own, capable of bringing her pleasure beyond mine if such a thing were possible. I tried to calm myself and bring my rapid breathing back under control as I listened for more.
"That's nice...slowly now...there's no hurry."
I do not know how long I knelt there with my eyes closed straining for any sound to feed my fevered imagination. Now and again Xander purred with satisfaction whilst Clara gave a muted moan which might have been an indicator of gratification else a signal that her tongue was beginning to tire.
"You know what I like...suck it for me."
I thought that I heard the pursing of her lips but I certainly caught the drawn out wanton growl that followed.
"Faster now...do it...make me come on your face."
There was no doubting the meaning of her words as she shattered yet another taboo. Sometimes, in the throes of orgasm, I felt a slight gushing which would necessitate a change of bedclothes. I had wondered if this was another secret amongst women but Xander not only embraced it but revelled in it.
She began to groan ever more loudly, exhorting Clara to even greater effort, until a shrill shriek gave way to a plaintive wail as she finally reached her goal.
My heart was hammering in my chest and my arm was numb from holding the microphone so tightly to the wall. I knew I had to pull myself away but after tonight my roommate would be back and there might be no further opportunities.
Such sounds as I could hear were uncertain but I thought there might have been a low sob. When Xander eventually spoke again it was clear that she had moved to the other side of the room and had presumably got into bed
"Don't sit there feeling sorry for yourself. I not tired yet and I want you over here right now."
The next morning I went down early and took a walk in the grounds of the house. It took twenty minutes to complete a circuit and then I was ready for breakfast.
I was the first to arrive but the two maids, in their crisply starched white blouses, stood ready at the buffet table. I could still not get used to the way that they greeted me with a deference that seemed more in keeping with the occupier of a stately home rather than a scholarship girl from inner London.
I requested tea and cereal and wondered if I ought to try and engage them in conversation but it just seemed easier to hurry through my meagre repast and then head off to the training room.
As soon as I walked through the door I saw the change. Over the past weeks I had gotten used to the familiar setting of twelve desks facing front in school room fashion. Now there were just four forming an island in the middle of the room.
I felt a hollow sensation in the pit of my stomach knowing that the cull must have taken place. We all knew that it was coming but we had never been told how many. Now, it seemed, they had dispensed with two-thirds of our number.
My hands were shaking as I moved closer to the desks to check the names on the folders neatly laid out at each place. That Clara's name should be the first that I saw was no great surprise. Linguistically, she was the best of us and, whilst she had not excelled at any of the other new disciplines that we had been taught, neither had she come up short in any particular area.
The second name was unexpected. Lily was probably the least outgoing of our group but she set about everything with a quiet determination and always seemed genuinely surprised when she came out top in any of the many tests we had faced.
The third name was my own and I felt both a huge sigh of relief and a measure of trepidation. I knew that, in coldly analytical terms, I had probably outscored the others overall but I was not sure that I had demonstrated enough character.
I did not even have to look at the next desk but I did anyway. It had been clear to all of us, pretty much from the start, that Xander was going to make the cut even if it was just by sheer force of will.
It looked as if we were not going to get the opportunity to say farewell to our erstwhile colleagues and I felt a momentary pang of regret regarding Sophia. As a roommate her easy going, relaxed, attitude had often helped to calm me down when the stress was beginning to tell.
I was about to leave the room, thinking perhaps that I should not have pre-empted things, when Natherson came through the door. I tried to appear nonchalant but, as always, she gave the impression that she could see right through me. The others had taken to calling her 'Major Margo' behind her back but I remained in awe of her.
I had never heard of her before I was recruited but I had picked up on the whispers. She had served three years of the war behind enemy lines and had been twice decorated for gallantry. She was still in her mid-twenties when the war ended and was rumoured to be the youngest woman ever to have achieved the rank of major.
She was now in her forties but her beauty had matured and not faded. Her make-up was simple but effective and, if she had a mind to, she could pass herself off as an older Elizabeth Taylor. Her only blemish, if it could be called such, was the presence of fine lines at the corners of her eyes which betrayed the stresses of her war years.
"You've stolen a march on the others I see."
I was not sure how I was expected to reply as she approached the bank of desks and picked up the folder with my name on it. She flicked through it and then resumed.
"You came out with the highest scores overall...but then I'm sure you knew that. The question is, have you got what it takes?"
I was not expecting congratulations but nor was I expecting her slightly disparaging tone.
She looked at me fixedly.
"Are you a virgin?"
I was too shocked to answer but the instant flush across my cheeks probably confirmed what she correctly surmised.
"Don't be embarrassed. My point is that there is more to all this than just technical skills. I suspect that Xander and Clara would have no problem in using their natural charms to achieve the necessary ends if it came to it. It might also surprise you to learn that Lily is more mature than she outwardly appears."
I felt a growing sense of indignation.
"Are you saying that I need to compromise myself?"
"That will be up to you if and when the time ever comes. The fact is that you are one of the best natural talents that I have come across. I have no doubts that you can survive on your wits but it may not be enough."
You remind me of myself in some ways; not least because you are a lesbian."
I looked at her unable to form a coherent reply. She, for her part, looked straight into my eyes as if daring me to contradict her. The truth of the matter was that I was unsure of myself. I had spent most of my formative years in all female environments and I convinced myself that it was only natural, in such circumstances, that I should feel drawn to those close to me. I rationalized that I would form a normal relationship when I entered the wider world.
My eyes flitted nervously as I tried to hold her gaze and then I thought I caught the faintest hint of amusement in her expression.
"Well, well, you really are a virgin."
She loomed closer and I could smell the freshness of mint on her breath. I found myself staring at her mouth, her immaculately glossed lips slightly parted. I had the impression that she had never been compromised except on her own terms.
I wanted to draw away from her but I felt detached from my own body. The room suddenly seemed very much warmer and I was conscious of my rising heart rate.
She brought her mouth to my ear and whispered almost inaudibly.
"Would you like to kiss me?"
I wanted to tell her no but the words would not come. The urge to flee was overwhelming but my limbs were not my own to command. As I looked into her eyes once again I could hear echoes of Xander's coaxing from the night before and I began to get some sense of how Clara had been affected.
Reality seemed suspended leaving just the two of us alone in time and making all things seem possible.
I do not know if it was she or I who closed the space between us. Her lips touched mine with a barely credible softness and our mouths melded together as if it were their destiny. For long seconds neither of us moved, as our breathing began to harmonize, but then I felt the fleeting touch of her tongue gently moistening.
I surrendered to her as her lips parted easing my mouth open to allow an intimate intrusion. She took the lead as our tongues played together and a thrill shivered through my whole body.
Guiding my hand she pressed it to her chest and I felt the strength of her heartbeat which was calm and sure when compared to mine. Lost in the spell of her kiss I was dimly aware of the movement of her fingers but I was unprepared when she eased my hand within the confines of her opened blouse pushing her bra aside.
She kept her mouth pressed to mine as I drew a sharp breath. I could feel the fullness of her breast beneath my fingers and then the implausibility of her engorged nipple. The excited areola was much larger than mine crowned with an arrogant teat.
Her fingers encouraged me to squeeze and I was surprised and thrilled when she groaned softly. Without breaking our embrace she unfastened her blouse altogether and, as if by magic, her bra fell away.
Some part of my mind registered that the door was unlocked, and that we could be found out at any moment, but I could not stop. She broke away from me and my eyes were drawn to her bared breasts. They were larger than I imagined with a beautiful under curve.
Her skin was honey tinged, making me feel pallid by comparison, and her fiercely erect nipples were almost chocolate brown.
Having allowed me the privilege of gazing upon her she put her hand to the back of my head. I resisted for a second or two but her fingers twined in my hair and dispelled the tension from my tautened muscles.
I felt limp as she drew me down upon her breast where I rested mutely frozen with my lips pressed closed. Still holding my head she patiently teased the firmed tip of her nipple across my mouth knowing that I was powerless to refuse.
My lips, still wet from her kiss, were slowly parted and some instinct began to guide my tongue. I could feel every dimple of her excited flesh as her nipple swelled to even greater prominence within my mouth.
I had to fight the urge to touch myself but I was forestalled as she encouraged me to explore her body. With one hand I followed the curve of her hip whilst the other caressed the bare skin of her back.
I knew that it had to stop, else both of our careers were in jeopardy, but I felt frustrated as she took my face in her hands and eased me away.
Even now, I found myself averting my eyes to allow her to adjust her clothing but I had badly misjudged. I caught a glimpse as she reached beneath her skirt and then a flash of white as she quickly removed her pants.
She still held them in her hand as she reached forward and pressed down on my shoulders. She had a latent strength and I felt like a child as I went to my knees to prevent myself from stumbling.
Her movements were urgent and purposeful as she lifted her skirt and pressed herself closer to me. The next I knew I was shrouded in darkness as she enveloped me with the heavy woollen fabric.
In the interval of a few heartbeats I went from near panic to an eerie sense of repose. It had the quality of hiding myself beneath the covers where no harm could come to me. I could feel the heat from her skin and I breathed in the smell of fresh laundry but my nostrils twitched as they were teased by a something more primal.
There could be no doubting what she expected of me and the anticipation of it had obviously had an effect on her.
As my eyes accustomed to the enclosing gloom I could see a distinct area of darkness contrasting with the paleness of her thighs and I was taken back to the shock of my initiation.
Whilst undergoing our medicals we were told that the area in which we would be operating had been subject to infestation. As a result, the local women had taken to denuding themselves of all body hair and it would be necessary for us to do the same.
I was really uncomfortable with the idea, and it was still taking some getting used to, but it was clear that Natherson was not practising what she preached.