Seducing Amy Ch. 02byKatie_Ames©
Hey, firstly I'd like to say thank you to everyone who left comments or sent me emails regarding the first part of my girl-on-girl adventure into dominance and submission!
If you haven't already read Chapter 1, then I strongly suggest you do so before getting stuck into this new part, otherwise you'll miss the whole context. You can find Chapter 1 by clicking on my profile and going to the stories/poems tab.
Both parts contain sexual teasing, spanking, restraints and dirty talk. If that's your thing, then please read on. If that's not what you're into, it's probably best not to proceed!
PS - Special thanks to Brad and Pras for helping to correct my editing mistakes!
Ok, so I'm afraid this isn't quite as fresh as last time. I've left it a bit longer before writing it all down in long form; however, most of the images are still very clear in my head. I hope you can still enjoy it!
I think it's best that I pick up where I left off: when wonderful little Amy left my room. It was such a beautiful sight that I think I'll remember it forever!
Amy's legs wobbled as she walked away down the corridor. I bit my lip, trying to suppress an evil urge to jump with glee. She was clearly flustered. Her little pink and white dress was crumpled and out of shape after having been on my floor all night. Every few steps, she'd stop, try to pat down the creases and pull at the hem to stop it from riding up her juicy thighs. Whenever she moved, I gazed at the firm little humps of her ass swaying under the fabric. I wondered whether her cheeks were still pink from all the spanks I'd given her the evening before.
I kind of hoped that some of our friends would see her and ask her some awkward questions about where she'd been all night, and whether she'd slept with someone. The thought of her pretty little face going red as she made excuses made me feel very aroused.
I took a deep breath and closed the door.
Safe and alone, a delirious grin sprang across my face. I scampered over to my bed, grabbed my pillow and rolled around, hugging it tightly. Amy's sweet, musky scent lingered on the fabric. I screwed my eyes shut in excitement; my body trembled; and my knickers began to saturate all over again. I was euphoric! I'd done it! I'd teased her, ruined her and sent her home.
Almost automatically, my hand slipped down my body and began to rhythmically rub my wet, swollen crotch through the fabric of my skirt. I moaned quietly as waves of heavy pleasure flooded up through my body. God I was horny. It was almost maddening. I desperately wanted to rub myself to orgasm after orgasm... but I managed to stop myself... at least for a time. I felt a defiant urge to preserve the feelings forever. I grabbed my laptop and, with my fingers still trembling, I started to type. Hurried words zipped across the page. I wanted to write down every single delicious detail of what had just happened.
I transcribed as much as I could before it finally got too much. I was barely holding on to the edge of sanity when I'd started... but now I was positively certifiable. Writing about sex can be excruciating. If you think about the horniest you've ever felt when you're reading good erotica... allow yourself to dial that feeling up by a factor of ten, then you enter the state of horniness that occurs when you actually write it. You feel yourself becoming so horny that it's almost like torture.
As I cracked, I violently snapped my laptop closed. I slipped my fingers inside my knickers and moaned as I my fingers slid through my slick, engorged folds. I felt myself descend into a frenzy of masturbation. It was one of those times when you can feel your entire body swell with arousal... and your entire mind is consumed by horniness. The only thing you can think about is sex.
I moaned, bucked and writhed all over my bed until I'd rubbed myself raw... but I was still horny. It's like the feeling of arousal just becomes locked in to your mind, and you can't help it but feel an intense desire to masturbate over and over.
Before I could continue, I noticed the time. I let out a wail of frustration. I left my bed, ran down the corridor to the shower room, soaped my body down, redressed and then headed out to my lectures.
Before I entered the lecture hall, I considered sending Amy a text. Despite the fact I like writing, I found it really difficult to work out what to say to her. Should I say something sexy? Something kind? Something reassuring? I didn't know, and I didn't have the luxury of time to think. I shut my phone off and found myself a seat near the back of the room. It's a good job that I'd already done the required reading in advance, as I couldn't pay attention to anything that the lecturer said. As I sat in the hall, I pointed my eyes towards the projector screen, but the only thing I could see was Amy... in a variety of depraved and degrading predicaments.
As soon as proceedings were over, I flicked my phone back on and to my delight I saw a text notification. I eagerly opened the message.
"Oh Katie (Mistress!!) how are you today?! I just wanted to say thank you so much for last night! My body feels broken in the nicest possible way! I keep needing to remind myself to breathe. I just want to kiss you again!"
I smiled excitedly and started texting back. I redrafted my message about eight or nine times, trying to get the balance right between kindness and flirtatiousness. I wanted something that would make her feel sexy, make her feel liked, and make her feel good about what we'd done last night.
":) Hey naughty! I'm good. Last night was so much fun! You really are an adorably sexy little submissive! How's your day going? x"
Her response was swift.
"So I'm 'adorably sexy?!' That's so sweet, I'm actually blushing right now! I'm in the library but I can barely pay attention. I'm so naughty. I need to be punished! I can't wait until next time! xxxxx"
I didn't respond immediately.
My mind had constructed a devious plan.
I quickly grabbed an apple, some water and a sandwich from the departmental canteen, munched it down, then made my way to the library.
The library building is quite big, and on more than one level, but I know where Amy likes to study. If she can, she always chooses one of the desks on the ground floor next to the windows overlooking the courtyard and, as I entered the building, that was exactly where I was headed.
The place was moderately busy, and over half the desks were full; however, it wasn't long before I spotted my favourite little blonde girl. There she was, in a cute pair of jeans and a tight sweater. Her head tilted down; her cute features starring down at a book; and her pen hovering over her notepad.
I walked past the lines of desks, feeling my rapidly swelling pussy lips rub against each other with each step.
I guess she must have heard the footsteps. She looked up and spotted me. Her eyes widened and we stared at each other. With one hand she started to fidget with her pen, with the other she smoothed down her hair. She was nervous, but an irrepressible smile spread across her face. I beamed back at her provocatively, whilst maintaining my stride. I knew exactly what I was going to do. I wasn't going to stop when I reached her, I was just going to bend down, say something, and then keep on walking.
Just as I passed her, I leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Next time I'm going to absolutely fucking destroy you."
"Katie..!" she exclaimed.
I put my fingers to my lips, and whispered, "Shhhhh, this is a library!"
The look on her face was priceless: wide eyes, flushed cheeks and her jaw hanging loose. My eyes lingered on her for a second, before snapping round and continuing my march, swaying my ass sexily. I kept on going until I reached the stairs. As I walked up, I bit my lip to suppress a depraved little giggle and did everything I could to stop myself from clapping my hands in exhilaration.
On the upper level, it's possible to look down onto the floor below, so I quietly headed over to the rail and peeked down at Amy. I plastered an evil grin on my face, so that, if she saw me, she'd think that I had intended for her to spot me.
I could see her squirming at her desk. Her face was pained. Her legs were crossed tightly together and her top leg jiggling rhythmically. Dirty girl. I knew exactly what she was doing.
Her hands gripped her thighs; and she gently rocked back and forth, paying attention to neither her books, nor her notes. She kept looking over her shoulders to the stairs that I'd just climbed, then back down at her desk. Perhaps she was wondering if I was going to come back.
Then I guess another thought struck her.
She looked up at the balcony where I was leaning.
Our gazes met.
She jumped a little. Then swallowed.
One of her cute little hands rose up and grabbed a strand of her blond hair tightly. A tense, sheepish look flashed over her face. Her body went rigid, I guess in an attempt to stop any further embarrassment from showing. But it didn't work. Her blood pressure was clearly continuing to rise, and her face burnt deep red.
I paused for a few seconds to let her mortification develop fully. Then I flicked my hair, winked at her, and slunk off between the bookshelves, leaving the poor little girl to squirm on her own. Hidden between the shelves, I extracted my phone from my bag and texted her, "No masturbating in the library please. Whore ;)"
So, I guess you'll want to know what happened over the next few days. Well, I could bullshit you and tell you we got our hot, sopping, aromatic vaginas out and scissored each other every night.
But we didn't.
And there was a reason.
And it wasn't because scissoring is an inherently ridiculous sexual act.
It was because a thought had struck me, and it had got me worried. I was concerned that I was going lead her on and end up hurting her. She was my friend and the very last thing I wanted was to do anything that would steal the beautiful smile from her face. I didn't start to avoid her or anything; however, I made a conscious effort to tone down the flirting. I also avoided making any specific proposal for our next play date. "Let's do something next week," I kept telling her when she asked.
Of course, on one level, I could barely resist slamming her against a wall and kissing her whenever I saw her, or whispering some more well-timed words into her ear. In fact, my mind was filled with ideas of how to make her squeal and squirm and squirt. I wanted her standing naked in the corner of my room with her ass burning and her hands on her head. I wanted her on her knees, with her face buried between my legs. I wanted her to be bucking and trembling on my bed until she soaked the fucking sheets.
However, on more logical level, I was reluctant to overwhelm her mind with my constant presence, or arrange another hook up too soon. I was keenly aware that I'd introduced Amy to some powerful new experiences and emotions. I also knew that, despite our explicit agreement to be friends-with-benefits, it is very easy for more serious attachments to develop.
I learnt that little nugget of information the hard way.
As I alluded to when I posted the first part of this little saga, last summer I had a fling with a Dominant guy. I'll refer to him here as 'Nick'. From the outset of our tryst, we'd agreed, very explicitly, to keep our relationship casual. He was more than double my age, and a good friend of my dad, so it wasn't something that we wanted people to know about, or something that had an obvious future. Despite all that, I fell in love with him.
I guess I was too romantic and naive to help it.
Here's what I think it was: it was having him there, being handsome, being nice and being sexy so much and so often. It was being there time after time when he racked my body with so many dirty experiences and atomic climaxes that I couldn't think about anything but him.
He'd spanked me to orgasm, he dirty-talked me to orgasm, he even simply stared me to orgasm, such was the power of his presence and dominance. He let me experience things that I'd never thought I'd experience. He did things I never thought were even possible. My thoughts were constantly about him. Sexually, there was always something to look forward to and fantasise about. Was he going to narrate a fantasy into my ear that would make me cum in the street? Was he going to tease me until I begged? Was he going to force me to get down on my knees, face down, ass up and then fuck me from behind?
I never knew, but I craved him every second.
And what was worse, he was so nice with it. Cuddling me back to sanity after destroying me. Giggling with me. Making sure I was ok.
I can honestly say that he never said anything about us having a future together, so I can't blame him for what I began to feel. It was just that he was so very nice that my mind couldn't help envision things with him in the future. Cute little scenes of cuddling up with him under a blanket besides a roaring fireplace; visions of strolling with him hand in hand through some rustic Tuscan village; laughing and splashing with each other on some Mediterranean beach. All the time laughing, joking and having fun.
There, I think, is the genesis of love: if you let your imagination be tempted by beautiful visions of constant sexual and romantic bliss, eventually your entire soul will follow. And with some people, it's very easy for those visions to start.
I didn't want to lead Amy down the same path. I didn't want to put ideas in her head constantly and I didn't want to give her visions of a serious relationship. Don't get me wrong, I really like her. She is sweet and lovely and has been a great friend for as long as we've known each other. Added to that, she really is quite adorably sexy. However, I simply can't see myself as her girlfriend or as her full time Domme.
Despite receiving emails from a couple of Literotica readers who said things along the lines that 'I was clearly born to Domme', I'm afraid that really isn't the case. Now I admit, there is definitely a dominant aspect to my sexuality. However, that isn't the totality of who I am. It might be fair to say that I can Domme, and sometimes I have a very wanton urge to Domme, but I am not, at core, a Domme. I'm primarily submissive, but with a dominant streak... and, when I indulge that streak, I know enough about psychology to do it pretty well.
I hope that makes sense.
But anyway, that's enough waffle for now. With the proviso above, I still fully intended to follow through on my promise and destroy Amy sometime in the near future. And that's the part you're interested in. Right?
I thought so.
Well let's skip forward.
It was another warm evening and a big group of us were due to meet outside our block. It was the student night at one of the nicer local clubs. During term time, we go there most weeks. There's a nice atmosphere, good DJs and a few rooms with different kinds of music. It's usually a lot of fun and we all dress up for it. Around ten to fifteen of us, guys and girls, usually head down there together. We dance, we drink (drinking age here in Britain is 18) and generally have fun. Usually, I go there hoping to catch the eye of my prince charming; however, on that evening, guys couldn't have been further from my mind.
As I walked outside, I saw my friends congregating. My eyes instantly focused on Amy. For a second, my breath stuck in my throat. She looked stunning; perhaps more beautiful than I'd seen her in all the time I'd known her. I actually felt a little implosion of weakness inside me. It was almost as if the energy drained from my muscles.
She'd really done herself up. Her blonde hair was tousled into loose golden ringlets which cascaded over her bare shoulders; and she was clad in tiny pale-yellow sun dress. It was made from deliciously light, thin material; strapless too, hugging her tits and her waist, before fanning out briefly over her thighs. And when I say 'briefly', I mean very briefly: the dress was so damn short. The hem floated, teasingly, a few inches from her crotch, leaving almost all of her juicy, silky-smooth legs on display, all the way down to her kitten heels. For a second I was mesmerised, utterly intoxicated by her delicious, radiant beauty. I almost wanted to fall to my knees and worship her. I couldn't help but imagine running my hands over her, groaning as I felt her firm, warm flesh beneath the material and tingling as my palms slipped over her satin skin.
As the fabric of her dress shifted in the light breeze, she smiled, giggled nervously and played with her hair. A fair few of the guys were swarming around her, much to the disguised, but still obvious, annoyance of some of my other female friends, whose forced smiles and little sideways glances betrayed every ounce of their envy. The guys were being noisy and unruly, in a successful, but ill-advised attempt to get Amy's attention. Their too-loud voices, and forced horseplay merely showed their hunger for her approval, not their leadership or commanding maturity. Their inexperienced eagerness reminded me exactly why I don't usually think about dating 18/19 year old boys.
Still, I could sympathise with their motivation. My gaze was drawn to the bare skin all along Amy's shoulders to her neck, it shimmered in the late evening sunlight as if she was an angel. The outfit was way skimpier and sexier than anything she usually wears when she goes out. I prayed that she'd dressed up especially for me.
Whether she'd done so or not, I'd definitely dressed for her. I'd chosen my outfit very carefully. I was encased in a short, clingy, dark-blue dress. It moulded to my body: tightly fitting to my bra-less tits and the curve of my waist, before cupping both cheeks of my ass, and squeezing the tops of my upper thighs. It allowed me to show off a nice stretch of bare leg, until, just below my knees, my calves descended into my heeled black boots. Just like last time, I'd aimed for having a hint of dominatrix about me, but only a hint. Not enough to that people would make comments; but, I hoped, just enough to trigger horny, submissive thoughts in Amy's filthy little mind.
As I approached the crowd, I braced myself and grinned. My heart was beating fast, but I couldn't let Amy's beauty distract me. I was going to be the siren leading her onto the rocks, not the other way around. I needed to look confident, in control and alluring. I marched up to the crowd, deliberately making sure my heels clicked just a tad louder than usual along the concrete slabs. I was flattered that a few of the guys hanging round Amy turned to face me and greedily scanned their eyes across my body, some more obviously than others.
"Hi guys," I purred, only half paying attention.
"Wow... Katie... you're looking nice!" a guy called Chris said, taking his usual poorly-disguised look at my legs, then up to my tits, then back down to my legs again. Not that I minded, I always took it as a compliment.
"Yeah... I know," I said cheekily, without turning my eyes away from Amy. I was waiting for her to look in my direction, and I didn't have to wait long before she did. Her eyes met mine, and they sparkled. A happy grin spread over her face. Her eyes traced up and down my ensemble and she bit her lip. Bingo!
I fired a devilish grin in her direction, winked at her and then turned around to face Chris.
"So how's it going?" I said. My stomach reverberated with butterflies as I wondered how Amy would react, but I was determined to distract myself and not let it show.
"Yeah, it's good..." he said. Then I watched his mouth as he churned out a little update on his life. Not that I managed to take it in. I think it was something about winning a badminton trophy, and getting a good mark in some recent project, and managing to perfect the process of cold fusion, or something. You know, usual boy stuff.