Twenty Years to Life Ch. 03

Torrie was more than nervous . . . she was terrified. She had been informed that she would be performing at the Pretty Kitty strip club's amateur night, and there was no way she would be getting out of it.

Isabel had decided that her slave needed to learn to display her body more. She needed to learn to be touched by strangers. Isabel wanted to take Torrie to Dark Eden (the fetish and bondage club run by Mr. X) soon and wanted her pet to be ready. Of course, she hadn't bothered to tell either Frank or Rachel where they were going or what they were doing. She was more than a little annoyed at the setback in the two girls' plans instigated by Rachel's continued presence, but there wasn't much to be done about it at that point. Helping Rachel made Torrie happy, and making Torrie happy was one of the primary goals of Isabel's life.

"Don't wait up," Isabel said, a wry smile playing across her lips.

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At the Pretty Kitty . . .

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Within an hour, Torrie was sweating like a racehorse. During the amateur competition itself, she had done well, taking second place behind a smoking-hot Hispanic girl with a well-rounded figure including a pretty nice rack. And the girl could dance to, so Torrie's only regret was that she had failed Isabel. She wondered how she would be punished, and thinking about THAT made her feel warm and tingly inside.

Afterwards, Isabel had insisted that Torrie give lap dances. A number of the girls from the competition who had impressed the management of the relatively swanky club had been asked to stick around (if they wanted), and Isabel decided what Torrie wanted. And Isabel had informed Torrie that she WOULD dance for any patron that requested her and that she would allow them to fondle her breasts or ass to their heart's desire. Torrie had been blushing when she made her first round through the club. She had been a patron of this facility herself a time or two in the past, so she knew the basics of lap dancing. It turned out that if you wiggled your ass on someone's lap, then the patron was going to be pretty happy. And a number of customers took full advantage of her "hands on" policy. Much to even her own surprise, she found herself excited as she was fondled and groped by all these men (and some women).

At one point, Isabel sent a waitress to request Torrie's presence. When Torrie arrived, her mistress had a conniving grin on her face. "Do you see those two young men sitting over there in the corner?" she asked. "I recognize them from school. Very rich, very eligible young men. Handsome too, if you're into guys."

Torrie looked over. She agreed that they were handsome, and both were dressed casually in shorts and Hawaiian shirts. "I see them. Do you think it's wise for us to stay here ma'am? Should you be seen here?"

"While I appreciate your concern," Isabel said, grabbing Torrie's ass firmly, "I decide what's best," she uttered. Torrie had been wearing nothing but a thong and a smile for hours, and Isabel was getting increasingly excited. Just a few more acts, then she would take the girl home, tie her up and fuck her brains out. "I want you to dance for them. They are . . . nice, and I want you to be EXTRA special to them." Isabel went on to explain what "extra special" meant, then sent the blushing Torrie on her way.

"I am going to be in so much trouble if I get caught," Torrie said quietly as she approached the two men. "Would either of you like a table dance?" she asked, trying to sound as brain-dead as possible."

"Sure," one of them said. He was a blonde guy with a pretty impressive build. 'At least he isn't some fat plumber,' she thought.

She started with a normal dance, but soon things started getting REALLY friendly. She would grab his large, stiff dick through his shorts, rub her ass against it, or press her breasts into his face, freely allowing him to suck or bite on them. His friend was becoming increasingly interested as he saw what a "friendly" girl they had. And the blonde guy's hands were everywhere, pinching and squeezing her feminine parts. He requested several dances as she became increasingly bold with her hand placement. Finally, she got to her knees and made sure there were no bouncers anywhere near by. Much to his surprise, she slid her hand up the leg of the man's shorts and found he wasn't wearing underwear. 'No big surprise,' she thought. 'If I were a guy, I wouldn't wear any if I were here.' She softly grabbed his meat in one hand and began to stroke it under his shorts. It was the first time she had ever touched a man's private part in such a way. But knowing Isabel's plans for her, it wouldn't be the last time.

The man looked pleasantly surprised, making no effort to stop her. She began stroking faster and lowered her head to the area where the end of his penis was straining against the fabric. She wrapped her mouth around the head and blew a gust of hot breath through the fabric. She felt him shudder. She picked up the tempo and continued to blow on him through his shorts. By the end of the song, she felt his hard member twitch and pulse, and she felt the front of his shorts grow wet and her hand became covered in his warm, sticky goo. She kept pumping her fist, milking his cock for every drop. The man was actually gasping as Torrie extracted all of his seed. She pulled her hand out, looking at the faint white stains on her hand and wrist. She grabbed a napkin off the table and wiped off her hand. Then she looked at the other young man sitting there.

"Would YOU like a lap dance?" she asked coyly. A few songs later and she had another man's cum on her hand, and another satisfied customer. Then she headed back over to Isabel, a few curls of white stuff in her palm. She held it out to prove that she had done as her mistress had asked.

"Very good," Isabel crooned, kissing Torrie full on the lips while groping her still bare breast. "Just like a common street walker might have done. But I have another surprise for you." She motioned with her hand and "Salsa" came over, which was the new stage name for the girl who had beaten Torrie in the contest. "You see, you came in second and that means you need to improve. You will dance for this woman, and she will advise you on how you can improve."

With the next song, Torrie stood and began to sway, and the sight attracted several onlookers. Salsa looked a little confused, so Torrie slid down her body and whispered, "What all did she tell you?"

The Latin lovely smiled. "Only to sit back, make any suggestions I could and to fondle you a lot." She grabbed Torrie's ass and pinched it, making the pink-haired girl gasp. "The things I'll do for money."

Apparently Isabel had been a little more specific in her instructions, as Salsa was poking and pulling on some very sensitive areas, driving Torrie insane with desire. She wanted Isabel to take her home and spank her into oblivion. She wanted to be tied to the kitchen table and stuffed like a turkey. She wanted . . . 'Damn it,' she thought, 'Rachel's there. Maybe I could get her to go hang out at my place . . .'

TWACK! "Pay attention," Isabel said after noticing that Torrie's mind had drifted and giving her a swift swat on the behind. Torrie ground her crotch against Salsa's midsection as she let a pleasurable blast of hot breath escape her lips. She LOVED the feel of a hard hand against her ass! Salsa noticed the look of pleasure and grabbed the still-tingling area of flesh and grabbed it.

Isabel was smiling. If she didn't have plans for Torrie tonight, she'd probably invite this brown-skinned beauty home with them. So instead, she left Salsa her number and an open invitation to call. Then they picked up Torrie's sizeable earnings from the manager and headed for home.

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Back at Isabel's apartment . . .

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Frank had gone and Rachel was asleep on the couch by the time Torrie and Isabel got back. Torrie almost instinctively went to cover her friend up with a blanket, making sure the girl was comfortable. Isabel smiled softly. For a cynic, Torrie could be awfully compassionate. The two of them made their way into the bedroom. Guest aside, Isabel was in desperate need of some release. Torrie knew that her night wasn't over when she was ordered to stuff a towel under the door to "help block the noise." A few minutes later, Torrie was on her back, naked and spread-eagled, tied to the four corners of the bed by her wrists and ankles.

Isabel slowly removed her own clothes, then straddled Torrie's stomach for some rough breast play. She tugged on those sensitive nubs until she had stretched them out as far as they would go and Torrie gasped in pleasure and pain. Then she lightly started slapping the pink-haired girl's tit-flesh until both small mounds had turned pinkish on the sides. Torrie was biting her bottom-lip to keep from screaming. This was something new for her, and she was hoping it might become a normal part of their lovemaking.

Isabel grabbed the nipples again and pulled on them. "You know, we really need to do something about Rachel's situation. She seems to be holding up all right, but she can't stay her forever. We might not be able to do much about her father, but we can probably do something about Jeremy." She leaned in and gently sucked on Torrie's tortured breasts, one at a time.

Torrie was amazed by her mistress's ability to go from rough to soft so quickly. But it was that contrast that helped make Isabel so attractive to her. She found herself thinking forward to all the things that Isabel had said she wanted to do to Torrie, and to have Torrie participate in. They were the things that both scared and excited the young woman.

Isabel kissed her way up from Torrie's chest to her neck, ear and finally lips. She took Torrie's bottom lip in her teeth and pulled on it. "You know, I think we should go forward with our plans," she whispered. "We might even be able to use this whole situation to our advantage." She reached back and slid her hand into Torrie's crotch and several fingers found their way into the girl's warm and waiting sex. She alternated for a moment between moving her fingers up and down versus in and out, rubbing Torrie's clit with her thumb. And her lover's body strained underneath her, aching for more of what only Isabel could give her. "Are you still willing to go through with this?" Isabel asked, suddenly nervous that she might be pushing too hard on her girlfriend's limits.

Torrie blushed. "Do you want me to?" she asked. "Do you want to see me like that?"

"Torrie, I need you to answer me as yourself this time, not as my slave. This is one of those things we won't be able to take back once it's done. And . . . and it's not worth losing you over." As badly as Isabel wanted to "expand" Torrie's horizons, she had become increasingly sensitive to the idea of driving the girl away.

Torrie smiled and shook her head. "I can do it. It won't mean anything to me except that it was something you wanted. This . . ." she started looking at her bound hands and feet, "is what I want . . . what I need, and I knew the rules that very first night you took me."

Isabel returned the smile and moved forward until she was sitting on Torrie's face. "Then start licking! If you're 'bound' and determined to be a whore, then start acting like it. I need to . . . oh sweetness . . . think of how we're going to do this!"

Isabel sat on Torrie's face for two orgasms. Actually, she already knew what she was going to do, but she didn't want to deny her girlfriend the honor of pleasing her mistress. She fingered Torrie to climax and then untied her and the two curled up together. They had a long day ahead of them.

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The next evening . . .

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Jeremy was still in a foul mood that he had been suffering from for a week. He had received an earful from his dad about not keeping a closer eye on his sister, and he HATED feeling guilty about it. He was also plotting the extreme pain he intended to put Frank through. What kind of guy goes behind his best friend's back and fucks his sister? "The dead kind," he muttered. And he was worried about his baby sister. Despite everything, he still wanted to protect her and felt as if he had failed her somehow.

Then he had gotten an odd call from Isabel of all people, saying that she and Torrie wanted to talk to him about what was going on. He liked Isabel pretty well, but he wasn't sure he wanted to talk to Torrie. He had a semi-secret crush on the girl for a long time, and she might actually be able to talk him out of the mayhem he planned on instigating if she put her mind to it. He parked in the visitor's area and went looking for Isabel's apartment.

Isabel was standing outside her door, dressed in a short, black, billowy soft skirt and a low cut white blouse with nothing on underneath either piece of clothing. She wanted to set the right mood from the word "go", and she was under the impression that this outfit would do the trick. She was still a little worried. Torrie had already had a long day. Between her classes and job, she had been on her feet all day. Then Isabel grinned. 'She's not on her feet now,' she thought. But Torrie had insisted she was up to it, so thing progressed as scheduled. Finally she saw Jeremy's head pop over the stairs.

"Hello," she said demurely, noticing that she had already caught an appreciative glance. "I was wondering if you'd come."

"Anything for a lady," he said, almost instinctively slipping into "lady's man" mode. He just couldn't help himself.

Isabel tried not to grin. 'We will have to see if you still think I'm a lady by the time this evening is done.' "First of all," she said, getting down to business, "Rachel isn't here. And no, neither is Frank. I thought we might have a more civilized conversation," she added looking over his tall form.

'Is she checking me out?' he wondered. "Listen, I really don't have time . . ."

"Oh, I think you'll make time," she interrupted, her voice stern. "I'm new to this little circle of friends of yours," she added. "Sometimes I feel like an outsider. But I can tell that when you all are angry, Torrie gets distressed. And THAT is something I won't tolerate. I'm responsible for her well-being now, and I intend on keeping her happy."

Jeremy was growing increasingly confused. When did this become about Torrie? "I appreciate you're concern, but you ARE new to this group and I think I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Isabel cocked her head. "Rachel fucked your best friend and that pisses you off. You want to beat up Frank for his involvement. But Rachel was just as involved in it as he was. And how many sisters or daughters have YOU taken to bed? Did you ever care if your conquests might have had someone more regular in their lives and that you were just an attractive diversion? You're mad at them. I suppose that's natural. But are you any better than them?"

Jeremy already hated feeling guilty about not protecting his sister the way a brother should, and now he was feeling guilty about his own behavior. His day was going from bad to worse.

"No, I don't think you're a bad person," Isabel continued. "You're a young person experiencing life. We all are. Trust me, I've done more than a few wicked things as of late," she added through half-closed eyelids, "as Torrie could attest to." She noticed a stirring in Jeremy's shorts. She had him right where she wanted him. "She and I have developed a very . . . special . . . relationship." She looked directly into Jeremy's eyes. "Do you know what a 'submissive' is?"

Jeremy was stunned. This was NOT the conversation he was expecting to have. "I . . . sort of. What does . . ."

"Well," Isabel said, "Torrie is MY submissive. That means that she obeys my commands, particularly when it comes to sexual activity. She does whatever I tell her to do, regardless of whether it is something she ever would have done on her own. And she does it whenever or wherever I choose."

Jeremy was shaking his head. "Bullshit! Torrie's way too smart and independent to get into shit like that! There's no way!"

Isabel smiled. "Really?" She looked at her apartment door. "Why don't you go inside and see for yourself?"

Jeremy looked like he had just been smacked between the eyes with a club. His world had just been altered in a big way. Could Torrie actually be capable of being someone's slave? His hand reached for the doorknob and turned it. He opened the door and stepped inside.

All the furniture had been moved to the sides of the living room. In the center of the room, naked and on her hands and knees, was Torrie. Her wrists were bound together with leather cuffs, separated by a single link of chain. Her ankles were tied together with some kind of black rope. The rope crisscrossed its way up her calves, thighs, hips, abdomen and chest, then down her arms. It was a fairly intricate pattern, looking much like a spider's web made of nylon. Her legs were pressed tightly together, and the rope was tight enough that it was leaving slight indentations in her skin. Her face was towards the door, and Jeremy could see that she was wearing very pronounced makeup. Torrie never wore makeup! Her head and face were also bound by strands of rope, though these were obviously entirely for decoration and didn't get in the way of her mouth or eyes. And there was a video camera on a tripod nearby, trained on Torrie's body.

"What the fuck . . ." Jeremy started. But he stopped as his cock began to swell involuntarily in his pants. He turned around, but Isabel quickly stepped inside and closed the door.

"What's your hurry?" she asked. "Don't you like what you see?"

"What's going on?!? Why the hell is she tied up?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Isabel asked, tracing a finger over his shorts and along his hardening shaft, enjoying the increasingly shocked expressions on his face. "We want to make a bargain with you. You talk to your father on your sister's behalf and promise not to injure Frank, and I will allow you to pleasure yourself with Torrie's body!"

Jeremy didn't think things could get any more surreal. He was wrong. "You can't be fuckin' serious, can you?"

"I'm VERY serious about 'fucking.' And so is she," Isabel said, motioning towards Torrie with her chin. "Don't tell me you haven't fantasized about this," she cooed. "The opportunity to show your lesbian friend what she's been missing . . . the opportunity to have her on all fours as you pound your big cock into her body . . . cumming inside her."

Jeremy was sweating like a pig. He had indeed allowed himself to fantasize about everything that Isabel had just said. Of course, Torrie had never been tied up in his dreams, but the idea had some appeal . . . "Wait a minute," he said, regaining some composure, "you can't do this! She's gay! She would never allow this! She's under your control!"

"Yes, I know she is. That's what I was trying to explain earlier. As far as the rest . . . maybe she should explain it. I'll be out on the back porch," Isabel finished, then strolled out to her balcony and slid the glass door closed behind her.

Jeremy looked down at the object of so many of his desires for so many years. "Torrie . . . I can't do this. I've wanted you so bad, but not as a pawn in her sick game!" Then he heard something he never would have expected. Torrie was chuckling!

"You big goof," she said at last, looking up at him through the rope around her face. "Jeremy, you are a weird guy. You think that I'm really THAT much of a 'pawn'?" Her face softened. "As long as she and I have been together, I knew that our relationship wasn't exactly going to be normal. But we sat down and talked about what each of us was willing to endure. And we made these decisions as a couple. Jeremy, I love her, and she loves me. This is the relationship that both of us chose, not just her."