Allison's Addiction Ch. 04

There was a short pause, and then she added, "I mean, that's all it was at first."

I raised an eyebrow and said, "Well, what does that mean?"

Natasha removed her hands from my shoulders and plucked the handcuffs up from the kitchen counter and said, "Nathan has like two-hundred and fifty megabytes of porn on his computer, all of it lesbian porn. I thought it would be really stupid and embarrassing stuff that I could use to blackmail him later, or at least make him feel awkward and uncomfortable...siblings do that sort of thing, you know."

Natasha fiddled with the handcuffs, examining the tiny indentations and fitting the key into one of the locks as she spoke, avoiding eye-contact with me.

"But, as I examined Nathan's porn, I discovered that I wasn't stupid. It was kind of breathtaking and wild. By spying on my brother, I had actually stumbled onto something really cool."

Okay. I got it. Natasha obviously had latent homosexual tendencies, and her brother's lesbian porn had triggered her latent homosexual tendencies and caused them to manifest into active homosexual tendencies.

Although, that still didn't explain the handcuffs.

"And Nathan's porn somehow taught you that lesbians can't have sex unless one of them is handcuffed?" I asked.

"Well, I mean lesbians can have sex without stainless-steel bondage," Natasha admitted grudgingly, "but, in all the lesbian porn I saw, there was always one alpha-female who seemed to be in charge, and one beta-female who was naked, bound and compelled to do the bidding of the alpha-female. I just got caught up in that dynamic and now I can't get it out of my head."

I shook my head in stupefaction and asked, "So, in order for you to have sex with another woman, one of you has to be bound?"

Natasha blushed slightly but admitted, "Yeah, pretty much."

I argued with Natasha about which one of us should be the alpha-female and which one of us should get locked in handcuffs, however, Natasha insisted that she should be the alpha-female and that I should be the one who was locked in helpless bondage.

We argued about this for several minutes, gut in the end, Natasha just poked me in the chest and said, "I'm bigger than you."

This was totally true.

I'm 5'7", which is pretty tall for a female, however, Natasha is 5'8", and she was wearing four-inch heels, while I was barefoot. As a result, she managed to appear an impressive six-feet tall.

It might not have been the most scientific or scholarly argument; however, my pussy was soaking wet and my clit was painfully swollen. The longer I kept arguing with Natasha, the longer it would take me get any sort of sexual relief. I finally gave in.

"Okay, Nat," I said, relenting, "you win. I'll be your beta-female. You can lock me in handcuffs."

Natasha had me turn around and cross my wrists behind my back. Natasha locked the handcuffs on tightly and there was a loud metallic ratcheting as Natasha closed them around my wrists.

I had already felt vulnerable being naked in front of Natasha while she was fully-clothed, however, being handcuffed, naked and helpless made me feel even more vulnerable. I was fully prepared to whine and complain and tell Natasha how unfairly she was treating me, but then I saw the look on her face.

Natasha was looking at me with an expression of wide-eyed wonderment. We'd known each other for years, and she'd never once looked at me like that. Seeing me naked didn't have this sort of effect on her. Apparently, I needed to be both naked and helplessly bound.

"You look absolutely stunning," Natasha enthused, "You are so adorable, I could just- "

Natasha never finished that sentence. Apparently, she was too eager to get her hands on me, and she just dove in without another word.

Before I knew what was happening, Natasha had shoved me up against the kitchen wall. I maneuvered awkwardly to keep the rounded metal of the handcuffs from pressing painfully into the small of my back, and by the time I had accomplished this Natasha had pressed her lips passionately against mine.

Despite my many protestations that I'm not gay, Natasha's kiss felt really good. Her kiss seemed to be creating pleasant tingling sensations throughout my entire body. I sighed awkwardly, with Natasha's mouth clamped over mine and just melted into the kiss.

I had given up fighting and just allowed myself to be swept away into the whole sapphic world that Chloe had been fighting to push me into. Once I stopped fighting it wasn't so bad. Natasha's lips molded to my mouth and I enjoyed the sensations of Natasha's tongue exploring my tongue, Natasha's body pressed against mine and Natasha's hands taking my naked body and holding it possessively close.

When Natasha finally pulled away she had an exuberant smile on her face and she was breathing heavily. She looked me up and down and seemed to be very pleased with what she saw. Apparently having me naked and bound was a truly delightful treat for her.

I had never seen Natasha like this before. It was like I was dealing with a completely different person. I knew how to deal my friend, Natasha. However, this new person was the Alpha-female lesbian, Natasha. This woman was still a mystery to me, and I wasn't sure how to deal with her.

"Nat, you sort of have me at a disadvantage," I ventured, "I've never seen any of Nathan's lesbian porn, so I'm not sure how you think this is supposed to proceed. I mean, you've obviously had a lot of time to..."

Natasha silenced me by covering my mouth with hers again. She kissed me very insistently, causing the throbbing in my loins to intensity and causing both of us to moan. Natasha's tongue explored my mouth and her hands explored my naked body. I squirmed and moaned and enjoyed the sensations of what Natasha was doing to me. My body seemed to want what Natasha was doing, so, I just allowed my teenage neighbor to take control.

Natasha kissed me hungrily, with heated and unrestrained enthusiasm. I kissed her back as best I could, however I felt at a disadvantage with my hands bound behind my back. I couldn't wrap my arms around her, all I could do was squirm and try to keep up as Natasha's sexual energy drove her to eat my face and fondle every inch of my naked body.

Natasha could only savor my mouth and my tongue for so long. At some point she pulled away from my lips and began to gulp in huge lungfuls of air. My breathing was heavy too. There was a look of wild excitement in Natasha's eyes, and she looked as if she was ready for more fun, but then she said, "The kitchen is probably the wrong room for the things I want to do to you."

I was so hot and bothered, I didn't care what room we were in, however I allowed Natasha to lead me into the living room.

In the living room, Natasha took my breasts in her hands and fondled them. First, she cupped my breasts in both hands and lifted them up, as if attempting to weigh them. Then, she pushed them in, flattening them out. Then, she kneaded them like bread dough. It was almost as if she were testing them for resiliency. Then, I moaned as she located my stiff, sensitive nipples and rubbed her thumbs across them, making every nerve ending react and sending millions of tingles throughout my body.

"Your breasts are so perfect," Natasha commented, "They're so round and firm. They don't droop or sag at all. And your nipples are so responsive. I wish my breasts were more like yours."

Natasha also smoothed her hands across my ribcage and the taut muscles of my abdomen. She complimented me on the slenderness of my waist, the concavity of my belly and the firmness of my muscles. Natasha ran her hands across my collarbone, my shoulders, my arms, my ass, my ankles, my calves and pretty much every inch of my helpless naked body. It was like she was a blind woman who couldn't know the shape of my body unless she felt it with her fingertips.

My skin was hypersensitive from Chloe's sexual training program and every touch of Natasha's fingers sent tingles cascading throughout my body and increased my feelings of sexual need. Natasha was either unaware or unconcerned of the sexual torture she was putting me through.

I was handcuffed and utterly helpless to stop her. And; although I was loathe to admit it; a part of me was really enjoying being helpless and powerless to defend my naked breasts. I was raised Catholic and my mother had instilled in me a very powerful belief that sex was sinful and disgusting, and gay sex was the most sinful of all. However, Natasha's handcuffs made me feel as if I was utterly helpless to prevent anything Natasha might do to me. Natasha could play with my nipples and eat my pussy and I didn't have to feel the slightest amount of guilt, as I wasn't in control of the situation. I was just Natasha's helpless captive. I was just a victim. I didn't instigate any of this.

The fact that I was no longer in control, strangely gave me a great deal of freedom that I never had before. I gasped and just stood there and allowed Natasha to do whatever she wanted with me. And with the knowledge that I wasn't the instigator in any of this, the erotic agony Natasha was inflicting on me became somewhat delicious.

Natasha ran her hands all over my naked body, feeling the smoothness of my skin, feeling the firmness of my muscles, feeling my thighs, my calves and my buttocks. Then, she spent a great deal of time fondling my buttocks, she palmed each individual buttock, felt it, squeezed it, traced her fingers across the swell where the underside of my buttocks met up with the tops of my thighs, and she even forced her fingers into the tight furrow between my buttocks and lightly grazed my anus with her fingertips.

"You're incredible," Natasha gushed after placing a kiss on my thigh, "Your calves and thighs are so firm and so sculpted. You have dancer's legs."

"I should have dancer's legs," I reminded her, "I have twelve years of ballet training."

"That's right," Natasha exclaimed, "I'm having sex with a ballerina! This is so exciting!"

I was about to admonish Natasha that feeling up my legs and my ass didn't count as having sex. I was still hot, feverish and overwhelmed with sexual tension. Natasha had excellent hands. I enjoyed the way they felt as they slid over my naked body, however, she was completely ignoring my loins. My pussy was throbbing and dripping wet, and Natasha hadn't even touched it yet.

"Nat," I started to say.

"Yes?" she asked, and then placed an affectionate kiss on one of my butt cheeks.

It suddenly occurred to me that it would break the spell if I started telling Natasha what to do. I was utterly free of guilt because I was helpless and under Natasha's control. If I started telling her what to do, it would be like I was an active participant, rather than a victim.

"Nothing," I replied, "It's not important."

It turns out I needn't have worried. Natasha's questing hands soon found my swollen pubic lips and she began to explore those as well. At first, she just gently stroked them and commented on how moist they were; however, she eventually became more adventurous.

I trembled and shuddered as Natasha's fingers teased the swollen folds of my labia and teased up and down my pink, moist pubic lips, threatening to enter my vagina, yet never making good on that threat. She played with both my outer and inner labia, stoking them and testing them for sensitivity.

"I like the shaved look," Natasha said, "Your vulva looks so much cleaner than mine. Do you think I should shave? Or wax? There's a waxing studio on Western that does a Brazilian wax. I like the way it makes your naughty bits look, but I'd feel really vulnerable and exposed without the covering of my pubic hair. I'm not really sure if I should do it"

Natasha seemed to be lost in thought, debating with herself the pros and cons of shaving vs. waxing vs. keeping her pubic hair untouched. She never verbalized her final decision, leaving in in the dark about what she planned to do with her own pubic hair.

"Your pubic lips are much pinker than mine," Natasha commented, "I had kind of assumed that pubic lips would pretty much be the same for all women, but there are subtle differences, aren't there?"

I was so overwhelmed with sexual stimulation, I could do little more than gasp in response to Natasha's question as she stroked my labia and explored the folds of my pussy.

"And you clit is bigger than mine too," Natasha observed, "Was it this big when you were a teenager? Will mine ever get this big?"

Again, my ability to deliver a verbal answer was impeded by my gasping, panting and ragged breathing. Natasha's inquisitive fingers were overwhelming my nerve endings and leaving my entire body hyper-stimulated with sexual desire.

My legs trembled, and I let out a feminine gasp as Natasha gently peeled back the hood from my swollen clitoris. She then proceeded to experiment on it and test out different methods of physical stimulation. She tried squeezing it between her thumb and forefinger. She tried stroking it with her thumb. She tried stroking it with her fingertips. She tried gently blowing on it. My breathing was labored, and my vocal cords felt thick. I couldn't speak; however, Natasha took note of my physical reactions to the various stimuli she applied to my swollen, aching, throbbing clit.

Then she worked two of her fingers into the gap between my swollen labia and I gasped loudly and moaned as she widened the gap. The longing in between my thighs, the overwhelming naked need intensified as Natasha touched me there and I reflexively spread my thighs apart, an unconscious invitation for Natasha to impale my needy sex with her questing fingers.

Apparently, that was all the encouragement she needed. I gasped and reveled in my bondage, and naked helplessness as Natasha thrust two fingers inside of me and twisted them around.

Natasha treated me like I was a Barbie doll with nerve endings. It was like she had taken me out of the box and now intended to play with me mercilessly until she discovered all my features and the most responsive areas on my naked body.

With her fingers inside of me, Natasha made a "come hither" gesture with her fingers and discovered a deliciously responsive spot inside of me. My thighs trembled, my hips squirmed, and I gasped as Natasha's fingers suddenly discovered this spot. Natasha enjoyed my responses when she touched me there, so she tried rubbing her fingers across that spot again. I gasped even louder this time and my whole body seemed as if it was turning to jelly.

Natasha's probing fingers inside of my pussy were eliciting one powerful shockwave after another. I moaned and whimpered and marveled at the potency of the orgasms that I was experiencing. Natasha really seemed to know what she was doing. She seemed to be finding all of the right nerve endings inside of me, and she seemed to know exactly how to rub and stroke each and every one of them.

My brain had mostly surrendered to the delicious sensations of the never-ending orgasm Natasha was forcing out of me, however, there was a tiny portion of my brain that noted that the bondage and the feelings of helplessness made my delicious orgasms even better.

Here I was, stark-naked, handcuffed, my legs spread wide for Natasha, while she was fully-clothed and free to do whatever she wished with my naked body. Natasha was obviously in control of the situation, and I was just her helpless victim. It simplified things and removed all guilt and complicated questions of morality from the equation.

I screamed and moaned and panted as Natasha's fingers continued to pump inside of me, playing my vagina like a virtuoso. I trembled and spasmed and my chest rose and fell quickly as my breath came in rapid pants. I threw my head from side to side and pulled vigorously against the handcuffs, however I could do nothing to affect the way that Natasha played with my pussy or drove it to orgasm. Natasha owned my throbbing clit and controlled everything that happened to it. I was just a helpless victim who would endure whatever she had in store for me.

Natasha's slick fingers had found the perfect locations inside of me and her fingers pumped in and out of me like a piston. Despite my best efforts to remain quiet, I screamed inarticulately as the orgasm stretched on and on and ripped through my helpless, naked body. Thinking quickly, Natasha grabbed my head, pulled my face to hers and kissed me until the orgasm subsided, thus muffling the sounds of my screams.

There were aftershocks of pleasure, even after Natasha removed her fingers from my soaking-wet vagina. My breathing was shaky and ragged for a while, but there was no danger of uncontrollable screaming anymore, so Natasha removed her lips from my mouth and pulled back from the kiss.

"Oh God," I gasped, and Natasha smiled at me.

My vision was blurred, and my brain seemed be working at diminished capacity, however, Natasha wasn't finished with me yet.

I can't remember a single thing Natasha said to me after that, however I do remember Natasha slipping out of her shirt-dress, yanking off her panties and standing in front of me wearing nothing but a bra and her high-heels.

I don't remember kneeling in front of her, but I must have at some point. I remember her swollen pubic lips and auburn-colored pubic hair being at my eye-level and dragging my tongue across her inflamed labia and tasting the flavor of her juices.

I remember being surprised that Natasha's pubic secretions had a buttery sort of taste. I had never licked another woman's pussy before and had never suspected that a woman's sexual juices could taste like a dairy product. I had always sort of assumed that the taste would be unpleasant. Natasha's taste was actually quite pleasing.

Natasha's pubic lips were somewhat concealed by her forest of auburn pubic hairs, however her labia were swollen and inflamed. My tongue found them quickly enough.

I worked my mouth and my tongue into her wetness and struggled in vain against the handcuffs that bound my wrists.

I realized at this point that bondage was going to become a very important part of my sex life. Regardless of whether I was licking pussy, sucking cock or somebody was using their fingers to probe my vagina, bondage left me feeling powerless and shut down the annoying part of my brain that pestered me with guilt. And the absence of guilt made the sex so much more satisfying and enjoyable.

If I had my hands free, exploring Natasha's the inner and outer folds of Natasha's vulva would have been a lot easier, however I did the best I could within the limitations of my bondage. Natasha's clit was difficult for me to find, as it was somewhat small and partially obscured by her auburn curls.

I did eventually find it and trap it gently between my teeth. Natasha seemed to enjoy that and made a great number of vowel-sounds that sounded very contented and blissful. And when I began to suck on her clit, she made a series of gasping sounds that told me she was delighted with my performance.

Sex was much more scrumptious with the bondage; however, I was reluctant to tell Natasha that I felt this way. I was reluctant to tell anyone. My gut feeling was that if I started asking my sexual partners to tie me up, shackle me or handcuff me, that it would break the spell and the old Catholic guilt would return. As a result, I just kept my mouth shut, and hoped that Natasha would continue to use bondage whenever we had sex.

Did I really just say that? Was I really hoping for a future where I repeatedly had lesbian sex with my teenage neighbor who lives on the third floor?

I was filled with questions and a turmoil of confusing emotions, I just wanted to languish on the couch for several hours and try to make peace with these new revelations, insights and feelings, however Natasha wasn't about to allow me that luxury. She got dressed, uncuffed me and insisted that I start doing my exercises.