The Prisoner Within

She reached into a drawer, and took out a simple wrap over top, and skirt, and a lace bra, and matching thong. Before I knew it, she was changed, and quite a transformation it was to. I sat back on my bunk, slightly shocked, but she did have a very strong feminine touch, look about her, still.

"I saw you had some other clothing in your overnight bag, Kate. Care to give me a view, a glimpse..." She paused briefly before ending with "Please."

I looked at her, as she sat back down, and looked around the room. As if I was hypnotised, I stood up and soon was nude, before I reached into my bag, and pulled out a simple v neck jumper and a skirt, and a plain set consisting of a cotton bra/thong.

My back was turned to Miranda as I put my arms through my bra and started to clasp the bra closed and soon I was stepping into the matching thong.

"Very nice Kate" was what I heard next, in some disbelief. It wasn't what she said, but rather how she said it, like a man in a night club. There was a lecherous hint to her voice.

Dressed, I turned to face her. She sat on her bunk, her back at the wall, and she softly smiled, as she sensed my unease. Her smile just made me more uneasy.

"Have you ever slept with a girl, Kate?"

I froze, in both shock and disbelief blurted out, "Don't be so preposterous, absurd, it's not natural!"

"Neither is being caged up with a pretty girl, Kate, and no opportunity for sex with a guy for quite a few years. Do you, did you have a high sex drive?"

I blushed as I nodded. "Yes I did, do I guess."

"And you're in here for life. It will be a long time before you ever get to fuck a guy again, if at all...."

As I looked at her, her dressed up, my clothes, my toiletries, my possessions, it started to dawn on me what her plan, her intent was with me.

I shivered as I stood in the room.

"Cold, Kate?" Miranda asked in a genuinely concerned tone. She stood, as our eyes met, and took the small pace to be close to me. Feeling her hands on my flesh, my body began to tense as she began to explore my skin further.

"When was the last time you were bullied, Kate?

"Two days ago, I think?" I replied

"How do you think you got your toiletries, your personal items back, Kate?"

My eyes met hers, my mind in turmoil as I shivered again feeling her flesh, her fingers on mine in a sexual manner.

"I don't... Don't know..." My voice peeled off, uncertain as to what was happening, how far she would make me go.

She continued to hold me, as her eyes pierced my stare, a soft smile on her lips, her fingers lightly caressing. I felt my skin react, goose pimples. My breathing became rapid, shallow.

"But I am not like that, Miranda." I paused gathering my thoughts, trying to control my breathing.

"Look Miranda, I am straight. I never looked at a woman, nor will I. It is not that I disapprove, it is just not me, I don't go that way. Hear what I am saying?"

I remember distinctly the smile on her face, as she whispered, almost hissed the following words.

"I hear what you are saying Kate, but you are in jail now -- no well hung men to fuck you, just your fellow inmates, and the odd screw as well. "

I yelped as she grasped my wrist, tugging it away, making a point.

"I am going to have sex with you Kate. You can either relax, and submit and enjoy my friendship, company, and protection, or, when I have finished with you, I will allow the other vultures in this place to have you. It's as simple as that, Katie."

I started to sob, her hand still holding my wrist.

"Pull yourself together, girl. Otherwise you'll be sent out of here in six months wearing a straight jacket."

SLAP

Her other hand slapped my cheek. I let out a whimper, as my face stung, a tear down my cheek. She wiped my tear as she spoke so softly, carefully, before she licked my tear from her finger, displaying utter cruelty and then softness.

"I like you, Kate, I am attracted to you, and I don't like to see you being hurt. But the choice is simple. Submit voluntary or be taken, by force if need be."

She let go and returned to her bunk, facing me. I sat back down, confused, as I crawled under my scratchy blanket and cried myself to sleep.

The following morning, Miranda was civil to me, as we sat together; making polite conversation, the only time she mentioned the previous evening was during breakfast, when she reminded me that her offer of protection finished in 24 hours time. The day however went very slowly as my mind thought about the options of her proposal. Be seduced or be raped, the choice was that simple it seemed.

I could not settle down. I looked in the library, and soon found the section on gay literature, the books heavily dog-eared, stained. I guess with hindsight what the stains were from. But soon the day was over, as we were herded back into our rooms, our cells, our tombs with the sound of the screws locking us in for the evening as the keys clanged, the locks banging tight.

Just before our cell was closed, Miranda entered, almost pushed in by the guard, as the door was locked, the working parts echoing in the cell. Miranda went straight to her bunk, hardly looking at me, before her eyes caught me when she stopped and looked at me again.

I had dressed up, with what I could, to make myself appealing. I knew a friend who was raped once. I didn't want that to happen to me.

"Oh my, Katie, well, well, well..." She stopped and turned to face me, smiling. Her hand cupped my cheek softly.

"So I presume you have made a decision, Katie?"

I just nodded, before I spoke.

"You saw to it that I would, those name callings, being called frigid, and the like..."

I paused, "The last few days, the inmates had started to victimise other new inmates, but you saw that they would resume their attention to me."

Miranda smiled softly, as if to say how she, but her look of sincerity wasn't very deep. I felt her hands continue to caress my cheek, my lips, aware that my breathing was becoming light, erratic. As she pushed her index finger past my lips, I could only gulp, our eyes locked, staring.

I had lost the war, but this staring battle, I was determined to win. My right hand lifted, visibly shook as I touched her cheek, cupping it, gasping, gulping again. I am sure Miranda could hear my heart pound in my chest; I could certainly feel the pounding within.

The staring match continued, our fingers softly exploring each other's faces, caressing as our eyes focused, as the tension increased, the stares deepening.

"Kiss me, Miranda. I know you want to. I know you desire me." I gulped, as I realised what I had said, but my eyes were still open, as hers closed.

She leant in, her fingers spreading wider on my cheek, in my hair, as she pressed her palm into my cheek, my eyes unable to focus as she moved in close. I felt her lips press on mine, her tongue reaching out, brushing, and caressing my lips as she kissed me softly. Having seen her close her eyes, and then feeling her lips on mine, I sighed, gasped, and closed my eyes to accept my fate.

Her kiss lingered, full of softness, gentle, sensual... My lips parted instinctively as her lips and tongue probed my lips, parted my lips. The kiss continued. Finally she pulled away, pushing me away as she smiled, and looked at me.

"Kneel, Kathy." Her voice was soft yet commanding.

I looked at her; slightly unsure as to what she was meaning, my face full of confusion.

"KNEEL."

Her voice was soft sensual, but so commanding. Hearing her command again, I obeyed, with nothing more than slight hesitation, my eyes looking up at her as I knelt.

She undressed in front of me, teasing me, as she made a point of her undressing, exposing her nude form to me, her curves, her trimmed mound, her nipples already aroused from my presence, so it would seem.

She reached under her bed, and withdrew a pair of knee high boots. The leather was black, soft, supple, the heels narrow; the toes pointed. She slid her feet into each boot before she spoke again.

"Fasten up the zips," her voice again soft, but commanding.

Hesitantly, as I bit my lip, I reached out, feeling the soft leather, feeling a shiver run up my spine, as I eased up the zippers. Our eyes met, and a devilish smile fell upon her lips.

Miranda then leant forward reaching for a box from beneath her bed, and opened it reaching in retrieving a black garment.

Slowly she opened it out, exposing the soft leather of a leather bustier. She reached out, sliding her head through the leather neck halter strap before reaching behind clasping the eyelets together. Her stare was focused on mine as I watched her, still kneeling. Her bustier secured, she adjusted her breasts within the bustier, the neckline plunging down to a band below her breasts, exposing the soft delicate curves of her breasts, before the dark looming leather hid them from my view. I gulped, as she stood before me somehow strangely aroused, the soft leather hiding her breasts increasing her appeal a case of less on view is more alluring appealing. Obviously fully dressed in her garments, she sat back down, her eyes always piercing mine, obviously looking for signs of emotion.

As I knelt, she moved her right foot slowly, caressing my flesh with the toe of her boot. I was suddenly scared, but intrigued. She softly caressed my flesh, stroking my chin with her toe, as if I was her pet cat, her pet cat...

"Kiss the leather, Kathy. Kiss it!"

My eyes opened wide as I stared, in disbelief and shock as I heard her request, her command. But I knew I had no choice but to full fill her requests, I kissed the soft black leather. I opened my eyes and glanced up. She had leaned back on her hands, head thrown back as she sighed softly.

I continued for several minutes, kissing, licking the leather, feeling a whore, a slut, but; as Miranda's sighs deepened, with intensity, I was filled with intrigue as she was obviously aroused by this. Before I was aware of what was happening, she pulled my hair, as she pulled my face, my lips to hers, and kissed me, with intensity that I had hardly experienced before.

Finally she broke the kiss, the kiss that left both of us gasping, panting for air.

"Undress for me; Expose yourself to me my pet."

I shuddered on hearing this, on being called a Pet, but slowly I stood up and undressed, leaving my clothes dishevelled in a heap on the floor.

"Kneel, pet, but closer to me."

Again, with as much pride as I could muster, I knelt before Miranda, feeling the cool leather against my flesh as I looked up at her. She ran her toe over my flesh, leaving a trail of goose pimples. My breathing was short and rapid. I thought I could not be aroused; the whole experience was so new to me. How could someone be so cold, ruthless, yet sensual at the same time?

She looked down at me nodding with approval as her foot caressed, stroked my form, my nipples, my breasts, my chin. As she caressed my chin, she kept calling me her pet repeatedly.

Finally her foot moved to my labia, as she looked at my natural mound.

"From now on, my pet, you will be shaved." I just nodded.

My legs parted further, as her foot ran along my mound, my labia, sending a shiver as she pressed on my clit, making me release a gasp.

"Aroused, my pet?"

I just nodded, as she slowly started to press harder onto my flesh my clit my labia and I instinctively started to grind against the toe of her boot.

"That's it, pet; Fuck your mistress's boot, cum on her leather-clad foot." Her voice had coarseness to it, a coarseness that I would soon recognise as a sign of arousal, as I did as she asked of me, pressing my sex, my mound onto her foot.

She pressed back, as my hips gyrated softly, my back, head thrown back as I reached out to grasp the bed, to steady myself. I felt my labia part, the leather past my labia as her foot, her boot penetrated me, pressing into me, hearing her crude, sexual words of encouragement.

It wasn't long before I shuddered with an intense climax. The stress of the last few weeks, and the lack of sexual release, came to an end. Slowly I sank back into my ankles as my body recovered, as I looked up at my new friend, my lover, my Mistress.

She allowed me to kneel there alone in my thoughts as I recovered regained some composure before she spoke softly.

"Kate, my boot is now dirty, with your cum, I think you should clean it."

I looked up in total surprise unsure as to what she meant, how I should clean her boot. I guess the look upon my face was self explanatory. She lifted her boot towards me, my face "Lick it clean pet." Her voice was slightly cold.

Slowly unsure, I took her foot in my fingers, feeling the leather, smelling inhaling my own scent. Tentatively I started to lick the leather, tasting the leather, the polish, my own arousal. I felt lost again, as I was being humiliated, being forced to lick her boot clean. My tongue touched the leather, each stroke sending a chill down my spine. But her words her voice was soft as she encouraged me. Soon my humiliation was over.

Miranda leant back smiled as she parted her legs, exposing her trimmed labia to me, her labia aroused, as she touched, stroked herself, gasping as she fought to contain her breathing.
I watched her caressing herself as I steadied myself as I regained control of my breathing.

Slowly, majestically Miranda rose, as she stood up. She reached out, downwards with her hands, offering them to me. I reached for them, as I did, her fingers grasped mine, caressed my flesh as she pulled me up, more mentally than physically, but soon I was standing, towering over her. Yet she had me under her spell, her control.

Our eyes met, as her hands let go of mine, and started to caress my breasts sending a ripple down my spine. Her touch was soft sensual, her finger nails lightly raking against my flesh leaving a trail of goose pimples. Her touch was so soft. My eyes met her, as I felt my breathing change again; her touches were having an effect on me.

"You may hold me pet, kiss me." Her lips smiled, her spell had been cast upon me.

Somewhat hesitant, I was slow to lean into her, my eyes closing as i sought out her lips. Briefly I imagined a person, some whom I had kissed, snogged recently other than Miranda. Unfortunately, he had not really spoken to me since I was accused of the crime. I shivered, not because of kissing Miranda but the last person I kissed so intimately had disowned me.

"Will Miranda disown me; turn me over to the vultures, as she promised?" My mind asked the question. My thoughts, my apprehension were soon cast aside as our lips touched, cupped each other's lips, feeling the kiss intensify.

My breasts shivered, as the cool leather bustier was pressed against my own breasts, feeling Miranda's hands caress, hold my body. She pinched my breast, my nipple with her finger and thumb sending a jolt along my nerve. Rather than making me pull away, the jolt seemed to make me more aroused, as we kissed, our tongues dancing the most elegant provocative of all dances, the tango. Her hands moved to my bum cheeks, softly spanking them a short sharp slap, before she grappled my flesh, grinding her pelvis into my own. Breathless, finally Miranda broke the kiss the embrace as she returned to her bed as she sat before me.

"It is my turn to cum pet, you're not going to forget your Mistress's desires, needs are you pet?" As she spoke, she opened her legs thighs exposing her fanny fully for the first time. It was the first time I had seen a pussy so close before, her arousal spread over the folds of her labia, her scent deep, musky, strangely arousing.

I stared briefly at her fanny, then at Miranda. She just nodded smiled expectantly.

Slowly I ran my fingers along her booted calves, upwards to her knees, and along to her thighs, the leather replaced by her soft smooth skin. I was confused, my mind calling myself a slut, a whore. But I was also aroused, Miranda had kissed me with an intensity no other had. She had pleasured me, helped me to relieve my pent up sexual frustration, my sexual needs. But I had been forced, at least psychologically. The option had been to submit and to be protected, or be forced, physically by all.

Our eyes met, and she responded with a sly smile. Slowly I leant closer to her, my nostrils filling with her scent, my fingers caressed her thigh. Slowly my lips and her flesh collided, sending a shiver through my entire body. My tongue slowly started to lick, lap at my Mistress's flesh, feeling, hearing her respond.

I continued, fighting the thoughts in my mind, wanting to push them aside, and to concentrate on the moment. Miranda ushered words or encouragement, as slowly I accepted my fate, and started to pleasure sexually pleasure another female.

Soon my tongue was on her petals, feeling her folds, tasting her arousal, feeling her pubes against my tongue, my flesh. My eyes were closed; somehow I was working on instinct, a combination of remembering how I like to be pleasured, and her words of command.

I found her clit, suckled and nibbled, feeling her hands run through my hair. I continued slowly, my taste buds on my tongue tasting her arousal, so different to the cum of a male. Her gasps, her commands encouraged me, my thoughts – my apprehension cast aside.

I felt Miranda start to move, her hand grasped my hair tight, pulling it as she held my face still, and ground her pelvis, her wanton pussy pressing onto my face.

"Oh god, oh fuck Kate that's it." As Miranda came on my face, her breathing short gasping as she held me there, her first orgasm was subsiding when another orgasm hit her, stronger than the first, I was hardly able to breathe.

Epilogue...

That evening, I was allowed to share her bed as we cuddled ourselves to sleep. I was able to stay in Miranda's care and her protection. I became her pet, her sex slave. She introduced me not only to Sapphic love but the strange world of domination and submission. Whilst I never became an 'in-member' of the cliques, I was accepted, and never bullied again. There was an appeal after fresh medical evidence, and the reputation of the medical expert was brought into question. I was acquitted of the crime and released four years later as were some ten other females who were wrongly imprisoned. Miranda was also released early partly because the prisons were over crowded. We now live together and having paid our debts to society we keep ourselves to ourselves.

As to my sexuality, Miranda and I have our separate rooms, our own beds, but there are days we sleep together. Other times we sleep alone. We both enjoy the feel of a cock every now and then, and our friendship isn't exclusive. I have never heard a word from my former husband. What a Barstard.

Authors Note:

Another piece of fiction, this story started as a discussion of a scenario in the lit bi–room and developed partially into a role play. My partner has long since disappeared into the ether that is the internet, the online world. Before she departed however, she wrote the beginning of this story and was kind enough to send to me for comments, and possibly extension.

We had discussed how the story might evolve in our respective hands as we both had a different outlook on the scenario, hers was darker, more physical more brutal. Mine was more physcological, with Miranda implying the use of force rather than actually using force. I am unlikely to read her ending, for which I am rather sad about. I hope you enjoyed the story, and please send me your constructive comments, and I will read them, and endeavour to take them on board.

Finally I would like to thank Sarah, Tina and Don who have all helped to tweak this story and helped to look out for obvious errors on my behalf. Without you, this story would not have been finished. Thank you for having read this far.