Angel, Demons Pt. 02

The girl's eyes peered through them.

"I love to pleasure you... in any way," she whispered, bending to peck the woman's navel with her pouted lips. "Just tell me."

"I know, honey," the woman said. "But there is still too much holding you back."

The girl started to protest, but a finger sealed her mouth.

"I know you'd do about anything for me between these safe and private walls. And I love how you do it; you're amazing.

"As a lover, you satisfy me completely. But you have to be more than just my perfect lover - in more places than just this apartment."

The pale woman smiled into widening eyes.

"I need you to be my... property - totally under my control. We both know it is what you really want.

"But do you have the guts to show it to the world - your friends, neighbors, everyone?"

There was a long and breathless silence in the room.

The woman's fingers kept combing the black mane spread on her belly. The girl's mouth worked, but there were no words. Then she swallowed and cleared her throat.

"What do you want me to do, Mistress?" she said.

***

A girl, displayed.

The next evening the woman took the girl to the opera.

It was the first time they left the building together. They were both dressed, styled and made up in extravagant silks, from tight, exposing corsets to exuberant hats.

The evening was a thrill - the dressing up, the showing off, and the arriving back home, all hot and aroused.

Another night she took the girl to dine in an expensive restaurant. There she made her wear an apricot dress that was almost knee-length and not blatantly sexy - but it was thin, hanging from narrow straps that exposed her fragile collarbones.

"My little Arab Audrey Hepburn," the woman whispered while kissing her bare neck at the roots of her piled-up hair.

The innocent success of the first night might have lulled the girl's fears of what the woman might have planned, but at the table she still sat very straight, her eyes shifting left and right. The woman watched her closely, wondering how much of her unease was true fear and how much might be secret excitement. She smiled reassuringly, covering the nervous girl's hand with hers.

But then she couldn't resist.

"Honey," she whispered, her lips touching the girl's ear. "Did you see the cute young waiter?" The girl blushed as she nodded. The woman smiled.

"If I asked, would you show him your tits, when he comes back?"

The girl swallowed - her throat suddenly very dry.

"B-but," she stammered, her eyes darting left and right. "I'm not... You know I don't... I mean..."

"You mean you're a lesbian now," the woman said. Then she started chuckling until she laughed out loud. "Wrong answer honey. Remember?"

The girl looked from the waiter down on her top and back. She sighed.

"If... ," she then said with a strangled voice. "If it would please you, yes, I would, of course." The woman chuckled.

"Better answer, girl, much better. But don't be afraid, I won't ask."

The girl's relief was obvious. The woman noticed and smiled.

"Is that a disappointed look I see, honey?" she asked, maliciously. "Would you rather I'd make you strip for him? Or would you even prefer to do it of your own free will, just to please me?"

The girl's eyes were everywhere again, but mostly between a rock and a very hard place.

"Poor darling," the woman said, touching her arm. "I promise I won't tease you - not tonight."

The girl blushed. Her eyes screamed "thank you" from under desperate eyebrows. Three tables away the cute waiter appeared, heading for them. The woman brought her mouth to the girl's ear again.

"Push the straps off your shoulders, honey. Do it now."

The gasp was audible over the buzz of the restaurant, but the girl's hands went up, lowering the straps. The thin apricot silk slithered down, exposing her chest and the white strapless bra that shone against her olive skin like a set of headlights.

Her face was on fire.

"Now undo the front clasp of your pretty bra, honey," the voice in her ear went on. She swallowed. The waiter was close now; he did a double take, baffled by what he saw.

The girl held his gaze with hers, even in the heat of her growing panic. Her nervous fingers touched the clasp. She felt the cups relax as they slid apart. Her tits quivered into freedom, the cool air tugging at her nipples, making them stiffen.

A weak smile struggled to her face. Her lips trembled.

The woman tssked, shaking her head left and right. She turned to the waiter.

"I have to apologize," she said. "The girl is so embarrassing. Whenever she suspects the promise of a good cock, she has to go for it."

Touching the nearest breast, she fondled its swelling nipple. The girl's face was a study in crimson; the guy's head wasn't much paler.

"She has nice tits, though, wouldn't you agree?" the woman went on. She noticed a growing bulge in the poor man's trousers, making sure he saw her staring at it.

Then she turned her attention back to the girl.

"You can't act like this every time we go out for dinner, honey," she said. "We will be thrown out.

"Now please hand me your bra and cover your pretty tits."

The waiter's relief was as obvious as his disappointment when the girl replaced the straps of the dress after handing the woman her bra. She placed it right before the girl on the damask covered table.

"So much better, honey," she said, smiling. "Now let's see the menu. Maybe you're on it?"

***

A girl, refreshed.

The slender woman with the tanned copper skin seemed in her early forties. Her half-long hair had the straightness and the raven blackness of her native ancestors.

She sat in a white rattan chair next to the glittering rectangle of a swimming pool. The afternoon softened the sun's glare on it, but the air was still warm and balmy. Behind the freshly sprinkled garden and a row of darker hedges the desert stretched out into red infinity until it fused with the ghosts of distant mountains.

A pale woman in a blood red dress walked along the pool towards the seated figure, her clicking sandal heels recording her progress on the wet tiles. A petite girl with a black wealth of wavy hair accompanied her. She wore a thin, white cotton shift that left half of her tanned thighs free.

Her feet were bare.

When the two reached the woman in the chair, she rose, smiling. Her hand was cool and her voice sweet.

"So glad to see you. Be seated, my friend," she said, addressing the woman in red. Then she looked over to the girl.

"Please meet my girl," the woman in red said. "I'd love you to get to know her better."

"How precious she looks," the other woman said, reaching out to collect the girl's small hands in hers. "Please be welcome, you're exquisite."

The girl blushed, standing around awkwardly until the hostess offered her one of the chairs, but her companion protested with a smile.

"No. The girl prefers to kneel at my side. Let's indulge her."

"Of course," the hostess said. "How gauche of me. Let me pour us some tea."

The woman in the red dress let herself down in the chair opposite the hostess's. The petite girl knelt right beside her.

The golden tea danced in the glasses as it was poured.

"You have such a gorgeous place," the woman in red said, looking around. The older woman smiled.

"Well, thank you. Yes, I love the desert. I often get on my horse straight from work and ride into the sunset. You two should accompany me one day.

"Should I pour the girl a glass too?'

"Oh, well," the woman in red answered grinning. "I'm a city-girl, really. Horses aren't for me, they scare me! And as to pouring my girl tea - not yet. I think she should earn it.

"Don't you agree, honey?"

The girl didn't respond, but her blush deepened.

"To begin with," the red-dressed woman went on while nibbling on a biscuit. "To begin with I think she is ridiculously overdressed.

"Wouldn't you agree?"

The hostess smiled and nodded.

The woman in red brought her lips to the girl's ear and whispered a few words. The blush deepened. Then the girl rose and pulled the white shift over her head. It proved to be all she was wearing.

The hostess sucked in her breath. Then she softly started to clap her hands.

"She's beautiful," she exclaimed. "My god, she is sweet."

"Walk over, honey cunt. Let her feel your body," the other woman said, lifting her glass from the table to take a sip.

As the naked girl started to slowly show off her body, shivering at the touch, the woman in red turned to the hostess.

"My girl wants me to train her," she said, smiling, "so she can become my slave.

"Now isn't that a wonderful ambition?"

Both women admired the naked, blushing girl. Then the woman in red went on:

"But before we could even think of that, she really should get rid of her silly shame. Oh my, she's such a bashful, shy little prude. Exposing her body to a total stranger might be a nice first step, don't you agree?"

The older woman said nothing.

She just stared as her hand touched a soft hip and an even softer belly. Then she mumbled, "She's lovely, my friend. So lovely."

"Do with her as you please, darling," the younger woman said, smiling. "Let's say she is my gift to you for the afternoon."

The naked girl's face yanked towards her, panic widening her eyes. Her arms automatically started to cover her private parts. The older woman seemed just as alarmed.

"Oh, but..." she said.

The woman in red addressed her girl. "Honey," she said, "I'm sure our sweet hostess's feet must be killing her after a day's work. And I'm certain you know what to do about that."

After a few delicious moments of hesitation, the girl went down on her knees. Her fingers undid the straps of the woman's sandals and while she started massaging her ankles, her tongue reached out to lick her toes, the space between them, the insteps and the elegant arches.

The woman in red smiled as - after initial protests - she heard the older woman sigh, watching her eyes close and her chest rise and fall with quickening speed. She leaned forward, slapping the raised ass cheeks of the kneeling girl before fondling the crack and the shaved, oiled plum below.

"Isn't she a gem?" she asked, but there was no answer, just sweet sighing.

The younger woman picked up her glass of tea and sat back, watching. The tip of her foot softly caressed the tender insides of the girl's thighs, causing the creamy skin to ripple deliciously.

The girl finally rose and sat back on her heels, holding one foot against her soft chest as she massaged the calf. The older woman's eyes returned to the world. She sighed a smile and thanked her red dressed guest, remarking how feet massages always made her hot and horny.

The woman answered with a wink and a frantic fanning of her hand. They both laughed out loud, making the girl look up with a puzzled little smile.

"I think the lady needs more, honey," she heard her mistress say. "You left her all hot and bothered."

It took seconds before understanding dawned on the girl's face. She slid forward and pushed up the woman's skirt, earning a surprised 'oh..' Then the woman spread her knees to help the girl find her soaked panties.

Soft kisses sounded as the girl worked her way up the creamy inner thighs. She nuzzled the wet panties, drawing little moans. Soon the panties came off and the girl's wide-open mouth was filled with swollen cunt flesh.

It didn't take the older woman long to come hard and make the sky echo with her ecstasy. The girl's mouth was by now sucking copious juices, sliding her shining face up and down the weeping slit.

Hands clawed into her hair until they relaxed, as did the rest of the woman's body.

"Wwwwow, oh wow..." she gasped. Then she pulled the girl up and made her tongue dive down her mouth.

"Lie down," she panted when they parted. "On your back." A dominant streak seemed to suddenly possess the woman, making the watching, younger woman smile.

The petite girl obliged, stretching in the puddles of water bordering the pool. The older woman pulled her skirt up and sank over the girl's face.

She started riding her nose, lips and chin, eager to find another orgasm.

The woman in the red dress rose and knelt beside her girl's lower body. She spread the legs and cupped the flowing cunt. Kneading it, she extracted muffled sounds. Then she entered the slit with three fingers, starting to saw, making sure her thumb hit the swollen clit. The girl fucked back by raising her hips, all the time chasing the other woman's cunt with her tongue.

Soon, she came, arching her body off the tiled floor.

The vibration of her cries must have pushed her lover over the edge, for the older woman too started shaking, adding her throaty voice to a shared song of abandon.

The woman in red grinned as she got closer to their hostess's face, kissing her. At the same time, she reached past her to get an empty tea glass.

"Raise your sweet ass, my friend," she said and shoved the glass between the girl's gasping face and the older woman's drooling cunt.

"Fill it up, please," she said, and the woman's confusion only lasted seconds. Her inner cunt lips pouted and a sudden spurt of golden liquid hit the bottom of the glass.

It soon was filled to the brim, spreading a pungent fragrance.

"Sit up, little slut," the girl's mistress said. "Please." The girl slid forward and rose to her knees. The afterglow of her orgasm painted her chest, while her face shone with her lover's juices.

Her eyes were misted over.

Grabbing her hand, her young mistress placed the warm glass into it.

"Your tea, honey, as promised," she said. "Drink it while it's still hot, you earned it."

Reality dawned on the girl's face. Her mistress took hold of the hand with the glass, fearing she might drop it. The girl's head shook from left to right.

Her eyes were saucers.

The woman just nodded. She felt the girl's hands tremble. Nodding once again, she brought the glass up to her mouth. The rim slid over the lower lip and she tipped the glass, so the first wave of piss streamed into the girl's half-open mouth.

She gagged, then she swallowed. Tears ran down her face.

"Good girl," the woman said, tipping the glass again.

***

A girl, handed over.

There are bars and then there are bars.

Many are warm and hospitable, but some are just charmless - maybe because there never was the need to make them look inviting. Or maybe every effort just shattered, long ago - who's to know?

Anyway, the bar the woman made her enter that afternoon was easily the nastiest booze-hole the girl ever saw. No nice girl in her right mind would have set a foot inside it.

And yet, here she was.

It was dark inside, clouded with a mist of exhaled tobacco smoke, reeking with the stench of spilled beer. It must have impregnated the blackened walls and muddy floor for ages.

The stale mixture wafted in their faces when they entered.

After blinking her eyes twice, the girl saw a long wooden bar. It was strewn with dirty glasses, bottles, peanut shells and overflowing ashtrays. Several men leaned against it or sat perched on threadbare stools.

A swath of daylight entered with the women. It wasn't appreciated.

"Close that door!" a smoker's voice rasped out of the dark. Then the men saw what had entered, and the murmur of their voices died down.

Only a thumping rhythm of canned music kept filling the poisoned air.

Faces turned to the entrance, where the silhouettes of two women were cut out against the light - one petite, the other taller. The low sun painted a halo around their bodies until the door mercifully closed, restoring the gloom.

Weakly lit by the bar's lamplights, the girl stood swaying on plastic platform heels. They had the same garish hot pink color as her tiny mini dress - which was a crotch-long t-shirt, really.

Behind her was a taller woman.

She was clad entirely in black, which made her face seem to float in darkness; the pale head of a ghost. The woman's hands were on the shoulders of the girl, turning her towards the men.

She brought her mouth to her ear, whispering. The girl nodded, her eyes huge puddles of darkness. She hesitantly took one step forward. Then she reached down and started raising the short pink dress with both hands, slowly uncovering her naked body.

Every eye followed her movement - all male. Beside the thumping music there was no sound to be heard.

As her hands rose, the girl felt the flimsy fabric slide over her skin - her hips, her belly, her excited nipples. The dress was all she had been allowed to wear and although the air was stifling, she shivered when more and more of her skin got exposed.

Conflicting feelings entered her mind when the dress at last rose over her face. The more she covered her face, the more she exposed her body. It gave her an illusion of privacy - like a child pretending the world doesn't exist when you close your eyes.

Inside the tiny tent of the dress's fabric she heard the increasing murmur of male voices as her breasts were exposed. She also heard the woman's voice by her ear, pushing her to go on, praising her courage. Two warm, soft hands started caressing her. They rose from her thighs, up her bare sides and down again - then up again until they cupped her breasts.

Her breathing increased, clinging to her face like a hot, damp mist.

"Lose the dress, honey," the voice whispered. "Be proud. Show them your body; you look good."

And even though part of her still struggled against it, her hands moved up again and the bar's lights peeked from under the hem. Maybe a dozen faces stared at her as she felt her hair fall back on her shoulders - warm and heavy. Her arms sunk down her sides and the dress rustled as it fell to the dirty floor. She was naked. There wasn't a stitch left to protect her from the hungry eyes.

She shuddered - but she stood.

"Walk up to them," the voice by her ear told her.

A new wave of fear engulfed the girl, but she took one hesitant step, feeling her ankle wobble as she put weight on the tall pink heel and the hoof-like platform sole. Then she changed to the other foot, noticing how walking on heels like this made her ass cheeks roll.

Her gaze left the hungry male stares to settle on the more innocent multicolored wall of bottles over the bar. She noticed the shifting of delicate bones and sinews in her feet with each precarious step. She felt the muscles in her calves and thighs, the tug on her free-bouncing breasts.

When she reached halfway she heard the woman call out for her to stop. She did so at once, a small sigh of relief escaping her lips.

Standing with her arms down her sides, she closed her eyes.

The voice, penetrating her private darkness, told her to turn around and walk back to her. A smile touched the corners of her mouth as she obeyed and returned. A sudden bout of newfound courage made her exaggerate the sway of her ass, to the audible delight of her audience.

Her feeling of relief was horribly premature, however.

When she reached the woman again, she bent her knees to pick up the dropped dress. But when she started to slip it on again, it was ripped from her hands. Right before her eyes the woman tore it up.

The sound of the ripping fabric silenced the onlookers.

"What on earth do you think, bitch?" she asked the girl, who stood in stunned silence. "Did I tell you to dress? Did you think we'd leave already? We've only started, cunt.

"Now clear the hair away from your brow."

The rude language made the girl jump to obey.

The woman produced a black marker and started writing on her forehead. It was impossible to guess what she was writing, but in the end, she felt a line being drawn down the bridge of her nose. There were two short diagonal lines added at the end, like an arrow.