Lady de la Dia Ch. 06-08

A soft chuckle escaped Sarastra's lips, and she turned her warm eyes upon the coed.

"I cannot. But, if your love for Tessa is real... she can help you. Now leave me be, Amy... I must think. I must... atone."

The night passed in stern silence. The aura of Sunday's punishment hung heavily in the air, and though Mia, Donovan, and all others involved apologized profusely for what they allowed to happen, Amy still felt the weight of betrayal strangling her heart. Sunday had been placed in a private bedroom so that the strain of her days in bondage could be lifted, but Amy was forbidden to see her. Something about keeping the stress level down. It was bull, and she knew it, but she did not question it.

Her journal entry that night was probably the most vulgar, obscene piece of material Amy had written in her entire life. She had skipped athletics, her physical... pretty much her entire day, done the entry, and went straight to bed. For the time being, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with De la Dia manor or any of its insane traditions. Were it not for Sunday, she would have packed up her few possessions and fled. As she lay there, she wondered just why she hadn't done exactly that in the first place.

Chapter 7: An Interloper

Amy's eyes few open, her lungs working overtime as the rap of knuckles against her door ripped her out of her nightmares. She sat up, hand over her heart, and simply waited. The knock came again.

"Who... at four in the morning..."

Slipping a soft robe around her shoulders, Amy turned the knob on the door and pulled it open just a crack to peek out.

Sunday smiled at her through the crack.

"Hi. I need to talk to you."

Amy blinked. The fog had begun to lift from her mind, but she still wasn't quite sure that this was not still a dream.

"Yeah," she whispered, "come in, S... Tessa."

Sunday stepped inside, the edges of her baby doll dress rustling against Amy's bare knees as she stepped past. Amy shivered just a bit as her eyes devoured the servant girl. She had forgotten how pretty Sunday could be when she wasn't hungry and exhausted.

"Please don't call me that," the servant girl pled, turning to look Amy in her eyes. "I love it when you call me Sunday, Amy. It's... cute." She smiled her sweet little smile. Amy returned it, ignoring the way her heart melted in the face of such a look.

"So... what did you want to talk about?" Amy asked, rather unnecessarily. She knew damn well what they were going to talk about.

"Well," Sunday began, her lithe fingertips weaving themselves together, "I just... wanted to thank you for what you did today. It's okay that you didn't mean it..."

"What? Sunday..." Amy caught her breath, somewhat hurt at that. "You didn't believe me?" Sunday gazed meaningfully at Amy, her cheeks already wet with tears.

"Of course I didn't, Amy... you told me yourself that you didn't want me, and it's okay. I just..."

Amy bit her lip. "Sunday, hush. I meant every word of what I said down there." The servant girl smiled a little, disbelieving smile.

"Really?"

"Really."

"You really love me?"

"Yes, I think... yeah. I do."

"And... you really want me?"

Amy grinned, her heart fluttering in her chest. Now or never. "Hell yes." Sunday squealed and took her feet, all but leaping against a still lethargic Amy. Her arms wrapped around the bigger girl's neck, and she laughed and cried in the same gentle breaths.

"I'm so happy, Amy, I don't know what to do with myself!"

Amy worried with her fingertips, her anxiety clearly etched onto her face. She lifted her eyes, gazing upon Sunday's child-like features, lingering upon the gentle curve of the girl's jaw line.

"I think..." she quietly began, her heart lurching, "... I think I know exactly what to do with you, Sunday." Amy stepped daintily forward, her free hand tugging closed her chamber door as their lips and hands settled together.

Chapter 8 - Amy's Journal, Day 8

I hate to do this over... heaven knows I'm not a fan of extra work. But the entry that I wrote earlier today just didn't fit with how my day actually ended, and I'd like to get this down on paper while it's still fresh in my mind. I have to be quiet, or else I'll wake up Sunday... she looks so peaceful, so pretty lying on my bed. I couldn't bear to wake her. I just wish that I had noticed just how lovely she is a few days earlier, and saved us both the pain of that insane 'holding cell' episode.

But don't let me get started telling you about something unpleasant. I want to tell you about something incredible, something wonderful. I've been here for nine days counting this morning (it's about seven a.m.) and since day three, I've been bombarded by sex. Every day, I've walked around this palace admiring Sarastra De la Dia's erotic sculptures and artwork, drinking in the sexy bodies of her employees, reading delicious, sensual stories in her library... and so on. That, and seeing firsthand how her employees love each other. I don't want to dwell on that, since it's already been covered in previous entries, but... I think my attraction to her started that day by the pool. As I watched her towel herself dry, sure, I was looking at her body, but... her eyes just held me. They are so... beautiful isn't a good enough word. They are captivating, and I was her prisoner... I just didn't know it.

Then Sarastra did whatever the hell she did to me, and for the next several days I couldn't orgasm. Just... couldn't. I tried until it hurt, and all I got was a back ache and a lot of frustration. I know I was fighting my real, hidden feelings at the time, but when Sunday slipped her fingers inside me that day on the massage table... well, it felt better than hours of self-stimulation all rolled together. Her touch was magical, but still, I held back... fearing something that, right now, I can't really name.

And then... I don't really want to talk about it. That holding cell... incident... I still think they're all insane. But Sunday's okay... and honestly, I'm starting to think that it was just another of Sarastra's tricks to get me to sleep with girls. Whatever the reason... I nearly lost her, as a friend and anything else... and it hurt more than anything I've ever felt.

I thought for sure she would hate me, until she came to my door this morning. We talked briefly... I think she was scared that I was lying about the way I felt. I can't blame her. I was a straight girl who had rejected her twice already, it made sense to be worried. But I couldn't lie to that face, not again. I was, I am, in love with Sunday. I love her spirit and her heart just as much as I love her perfect ass and enchanting smile. I told her that, and she just smiled.

And then we kissed.

Her arms were wrapped around my neck, and though I know she could have pulled me deeply into it, Sunday took her time and kissed me gently. Her lips were so soft, so responsive to mine that I couldn't help but enjoy it, and I think she knew then and there that I spoke only the truth.

Despite my admissions of affection for the pretty littel brunette, I was still a little bit hesitant to make love with another woman, even one as purely beautiful as this Tessa. I think she could feel my reluctance, as her kiss remained soft and cautious for a long time, until I was more ready. I slipped my arms around her long, thin neck and let my tongue slide out again. Her lips parted to accept it, to grip it in her own, and I felt my heart begin to race. Sunday had all but abandoned our kiss and had set her attention upon sucking my tongue, back and forth, drawing me more deeply into her warm, wet mouth. My entire body was tingling, my nipples as hard as bullets with just one kiss.

Our lips separated with a wet pop, and those misty blue eyes settled upon mine. Sunday smiled a breathless smile and hugged me firmly against her chest.

"I'll go slow, Amy," she whispered against my ear, her hot breath sending a shiver up my spine. "But tell me... do you want it hard, or do you want it gentle?" Her lips settled to my neck and sucked upon my soft flesh, and my head fell back with a whimper.

"Let's start with gentle," I cooed, my fingers digging into her scalp, "and see where it goes from there." Sunday's hand slid down my tummy, slipping the already loose sash of my robe with little trouble at all. I straightened my shoulders and thrust out my chest, allowing her free access to me, letting her know what I wanted first. She kissed me again, so gently that I hardly knew it was happening. Her fingertips slid my robe from my shoulders, and her lips followed with gentle nipping kisses that made me jump a little bit.

It wasn't the first time that I had been nude in front of her, but... I trembled anyway, knowing that my virginity, my real, pure virginity, was fast approaching its end. Sunday surveyed me, clicking her tongue as if she liked what she saw. That made me feel so much better... I know that I'm a little fat, but if a girl of her physical fitness could find me so attractive, I just don't care.

"Sit on the edge of your bed, Amy," Sunday commanded as she devoured me with her eyes, "I want to suck on your tits." I stepped back, breathing hard as I sat upon the very edge of the four poster bed. The language Sunday used only made me hotter (as if that were possible). I could smell my girl scent rising up, and I loved it.

Sunday reached down, taking hold of my knees with both hands. "Honey, I need a place to stand. Let me help you..." and she pushed my legs apart, just like that. I started at her aggression, but the look in her eyes told me that she wanted this just as much as I. She kissed me again, pulled me against her pastel clad chest, and lowered herself onto her knees before me. I wriggled in anticipation... my breasts have always been sensitive, but even I never made a habit of giving them enough attention.

Sunday was obviously not in a patient mood. Her arms wrapped around my middle, stroking me as she would have done at the massage table, and she nuzzled my tits so excitedly that I lost a little bit of my nerve. After that she slowed down, though, and began to gently kiss the soft flesh all around my nipples, never once touching them but skirting around them, teasing them. She licked my smooth skin, always hugging me close to her hungry lips. I wanted to tell her to stop fucking around, I had been horny for five days and really didn't want any foreplay, but... her face, her lips, those little whisps of brown hair that hung down and tickled my collar all felt so good that I kept my mouth shut.

Gradually her kisses and licking slowed, and centered upon my bumpy, rough aereoles, and I couldn't take any more. I reached down and pressed my hands to both sides of her pretty face, pulled her away from my heaving chest, and kissed her hard. Sunday let out a little 'mff' of surprise, but soon was frantically returning my kiss. Our tongues wrestled against each other, sliding over and around one another as we loved each other's mouths for a long, blissful moment.

"Sunday," I said, breathless, "please stop teasing me. I need you to put me out of my misery." Sunday kissed me softly, eyes narrowing a bit.

"What do you want me to do?" she cattily asked, the little minx. "Tell me exactly what you want."

"I want you to get me off!"

"How?"

"Sunday!"

"Amy?"

"I want you to..."

"What?"

I was desperate, my heart hammering, but I was even more desperate for release by this point. I grabbed her face roughly, kissed her once, and pushed her head down and into my wriggling crotch. Sunday was happy to oblige, and I think my uncharacteristic aggression thrilled her, made her want it even more than me.

"I want you to lick my pussy, you fucking slut!"

Had I really said that?

Sunday just smiled. She kissed my big, wiggly thighs each in turn, sucking little pink marks onto both of them, before leaning forward and giving my steaming slit a long, slow lick from bottom to top. I shuddered, my legs parting a little wider as I fell back onto my bed. Sunday kissed my pussy lips just like she'd kissed my face, pelting my outer lips with lustful affection before parting them and nipping at the inner, pink folds. She licked slowly from bottom to top every few kisses, making me wriggle even more as lightning shot from my pussy through my whole body. I gasped for breath. My hands found my own nipples and picked up where Tessa had left off, pulling and rolling them between my fingertips until they stuck out hard and proud, begging to be sucked.

"Mmm... Amy, your honey is so sweet," Sunday moaned from between my legs. She leaned in and thrust her tongue into my hot folds, pulled it out a little, and thrust again. She continued tongue-fucking me in this way until my hips started to lift, my butt tightening as I reached the edge, and then she backed off, grinning her devilish smile at me before kissing my thighs and vulva again. I wanted to slap her... I was ready to explode, and she just wouldn't set me off!

"Please, Sunday, please fuck me, make me cum, make me cum you beautiful bitch!" I cried, literally crying from how wonderful and terrible this felt. Sunday licked her lips and leaned in, teasing the hood of my clit with quick flicks that set me to wriggling again. She pushed up on the little piece of flesh until my nub showed itself to her eager lips. She flicked it once, and I cried out "oh!" She giggled, and flicked it again. "Mmm!" I felt my pussy contract, little quaking spasms rolling through it as a small orgasm rolled over me. I gasped, and moaned, but I was far from done.

Sunday was like a tigress on the hunt, no longer the innocent little doe in my sights. That gentle cum turned her into a sexual beast! She smelled her prey, tested it with her nipping kisses until I had called her every dirty name in the book. Then, all of a sudden, she leaned forward and snatched my clitoris between her lips, holding it in place while she assaulted it with her tongue and sucked it, sucked me, into euphoria. "Mmm, oh, Sunday! Fuck!" Her hand lifted, and she slipped one slender finger into my dripping cunt, pulled it out, and added a second finger, pumping them in and out like slippery pistons in my sopping hole.

"Girl, you... ah, fuck! Eat me, oh Sunday, fucking yes, eat my pussy!"

It didn't take much of that. I felt my butt tense again, but this time, she didn't let up. Another small orgasm welled up and I felt my juices oozing between my pussy lips, but Sunday never stopped or slowed. She opened her mouth wider and took my entire pussy between those gorgeous lips, lapping at the trickle of my cum until I felt the floodgates beginning to strain. I did that fast dance, my hips lifting and falling and swinging, as a third orgasm rose up and exploded all over me.

"Mmmmmmoohmmmyyyyyiii'm cuummmiiing!"

I wrenched my nupples, my hot cum gushing into Sunday's eager mouth as I wildly fucked her face, smearing her pretty features with my slick juices. Somehow she held on, and kept lapping up my girl cum, but it must have been like riding a wild bull because I kept hearing hearing my cunt smack against her face. She let me down gently, tonguing my engorged lips until I finally settled back on the bed, gasping for breath and struggling to stay conscious. That... it was the most amazing thing I've ever felt. Blame it on five days, if you want but... fuck, could that girl eat a pussy!

Sunday sat back, breathing hard, her face shimmering with my slippery cum. She smiled her innocent smile at me, but as I lifted my head to look I saw that her babydoll dress was open, her perfect little tits exposed and heaving. She raised her puss-soaked fingers and trailed them down her neck, and onto her chest, eyes twinkling. I couldn't trust myself to speak, but I tried my damndest.

"Sunday..." I moaned, filled with the bliss of my afterglow, "I can't believe what you just did to me."

"Really," she asked as she stood, letting her dress slide to the floor. I ate up her body, shiny with sweat and tight, so tight you could bounce an egg off her belly. Like a sultry leopard she leaned over me, giving my pussy on last lick before wriggling up my body, kissing everything she could get those delicious lips around. I wrapped my arms around her waist, one hand settling on her smooth, unblemished ass. "Well. Believe it. And here," she whispered as she leaned down, grinding her pebble-hard nipples into my bullets, "is proof." She kissed me feverishly, and my eyes snapped open. The taste on her lips was incredible... and mine. I frantically returned the kiss, loving the way my pussy tasted on her breath, but... maybe more, loving her for doing this for me.

I couldn't help myself. As we made out, exchanging my feminine juices with every suckling kiss, I pushed her ass down so our cunts ground together, slippery juices letting them rub effortlessly over one another. Her shaven slit felt wonderful against my groomed bush, and I know she felt the same because she started to moan into my mouth in a hurry. I squeezed her bubbly butt, but I didn't need to guide her any more. Her hips thrust hard against mine, and our pussies kissed and seperated with a loud, wet squelch every time. I let my head fall back again, giving her full access to my chest and squirming as she sucked my bullets into her mouth.

"Sunday... fuck! Don't stop," I cried as my asshole clenched, my hips pushiing up so hard that I could hear our dripping quims slapping together. Sunday's ass tightened, those soft cheeks going rock hard as her orgasm set off quakles all over her luscious body.

"Aaaammmyyyyy!"

I wasn't far behind... but as I came one more time, I shouted out things that I wouldn't want you to read, ever. We kissed and hugged as our bodies settled down, and fell asleep in one another's arms within five minutes time, both completely exhausted. Even better... both completely satisfied.

I told you it was unreal. Now, I see her sleeping on my bed (I woke up a few minutes later, and slipped out of her arms) and I know that... I'm glad I waited. I'm glad I decided that I was in love with her, before... being physical. Because now, I want to do it again. Hell with experimenting. I only want Tessa, in my heart and in my body. And that is all I have to say on that subject.

Epilogue:

The soft glow from the security camera's moniter bathed the face of Sarastra de la Dia in a cold blue light. She gazed intently into the screen, lips parted, held back far enough that the soft shimmer of her elongated fangs could be seen in the light. Of course, she had long since lost the use for those fangs and the taste for blood, but she had kept them anyway. Sarastra was proud of her heritage, even though her meat was no longer the blood of man, but the sensations of the human mind. And what a feast she had enjoyed on this night!

"Hey," Donovan Simms's husky voice called up to her from between her long, smooth legs, "you were spacing. Are you okay?"

Sarastra smiled at the screen, and quietly apologized to Donovan. "I was watching Tessa initiate Amy into our world. Your sister really is an inferno in the bedroom despite that innocent smile." She looked down, and settled her long fingers into Donovan's dark hair. "Just like you. Now..." she smiled her wicked smile, shoving his head between her thighs, "... who said you could cease sucking my cunt, Donovan? Eat me you little bastard, and do it now."

Donovan smiled a dazed smile as he nuzzled Sarastra's fragrant wetness, and kissed her slick lips.

"Yes, mother."