Book Club

Her eyes found Carey's once again. "She used power she didn't even know she had." With Trina's attention back on the others, "If you don't believe me, let's go through it from the beginning."

"From the beginning beginning?" Wendi groaned.

"If we're gonna book club, let's fucking book club." With that firm pronouncement, she grabbed the book and sought out each of the green tabs in turn.

Trina spoke, but Carey wasn't hearing very well. Her mind heard the things that Trina said that Carey needed her to hear. Carey peered at Lynne, those dark eyes seemed wider now, more open...like whirlpools waiting for sights to find them and then be swallowed into their depths.

Carey dripped because Lynne was so hot. Absolutely everything qualified for that adjective right now, but Lynne had that bit of 'more' to her because Carey sensed that openness in her eyes. Lynne was on the cliff's edge with no idea how she got there, peering over the edge, not understanding what she saw, but tempted by it all the same. Lynne just needed some help to take the leap, and Carey knew she could give the other that nudge.

Lynne's senses, triggered by Carey's lingering gaze, led her to turn to look at Carey's form in all its glory. Clearing her throat conspicuously, she asked, "Having a good time?"

"I really, really am," Carey said, letting her fingertips roam her body. The human eye tracked movement out of reflex, so Carey let Lynne see those fingertips roam in seemingly random paths. Seemingly random, but those roads always led downward, brushing past that pink, engorged nub and cleft. Lynne's dark eyes followed those trails, eventually driving her to speak just to expend some of the nervous tension that was building within. "Ha--have you ever thought of...art modeling? I've done it, it pays pretty well and it's fun if you're uh..." She lost her train of thought as she saw fingers traveling the slope of one of Carey's pillowy breasts, "not ashamed of you body or...into exhibitionism."

"This is the first time, really," Carey replied. "I usually feel kind of awkward and if I'm noticed at all it was for my body, which was something that I didn't want to be noticed for."

"What, umm...what changed?"

"I dunno, really. Just being here is about just going for it. That's sorta what Krysten did, huh? Everybody knows about Trina and knows about Trina parties. When I realized the Trina who invited me was that Trina, I wondered what the game was, but, maybe she's not setting me up, and I could use some new friends, so why not read a book and come talk about it?"

"But it's so nice." Her voice was dreamy. I expected everybody would be stuck up or they'd wanna make me feel like shit, because my daddy didn't buy me a new Porsche for my birthday, but you've all been so nice. This is a safe place, and we're all feeling good. Aren't we all feeling good in this safe place? Trina said it was okay and that it was safe if I wanted. You didn't complain. You could have."

Lynne had to think about how to articulate the reason more than she had to actually think about the reason itself as she looked down at that nearly perfect form. The reason itself was kind of nice to think about. "Because...I model. People stare and it's not all just to try to get the curve of my back right. Bodies don't bother me. I watch porn. It's not a big deal." Talking much as he ordinarily did helped her just be happy and not as foggy.

"You watch porn?"

She looked caught for just a second, then pushed down the wave of anxiousness that admission, for some reason, gave her.

"Do you do girls? Do you watch girls do girls?"

There was that anxiousness again, "I watch girl stuff. It's different. It's cool. No, I've never actually done a girl. Never exactly had the opportunity and never exactly went looking for it either."

"Why not?"

Her shoulders darted up and back, "I dunno, I'm not really into casual play and never found a girl that made that spark go off, you know?"

"I know," Carey said with an extra layer of sympathy as Trina's voice rolled on in the background as a melodic cadence more than words. Memories seemed to flow to her as she needed them, so as to serve that greater power and that made her feel so good. "I don't do much just because busy with school, and I'm not the best at social things. You might've figured that out already, considering, but I have done it with girls a couple of times."

Carey stopped tracing her fingers along her curves and put her arms to her side, letting her body speak for her. "Wanna give a girl a try?"

Lynne's anxiety notched upward and her mouth went dry.

"That's not a 'no.' Come on. You're feeling good. I know you're feeling good. I'm feeling good. Trina won't care. This is a safe place. This is a warm and safe place where we can feel good." Carey's face took on a seductive look that would have felt painfully unfamiliar on the old Carey, but for the one she could feel herself becoming, it was as natural as breathing. Her mind filled with thoughts of lust. She thought of all the men who looked at her body in want before she felt she had to make a hobby of finding ways to cover herself so she could be taken seriously. If they were lined up before her now, she'd happily make amends for every case of blue-balls she'd caused. She'd service them all and leave them sweaty and spent.

Now though, there was only one before her that she could service, and Carey had to make her want it. She spied Lynne's last, now mostly drained glass, dregs of wine and the untouched fruit still inside. With Trina's voice still in the background, Carey took that glass and plucked the single impossibly plump strawberry from it, plucking the bit of green from the top, reaching her tongue to the point of it as she imagined some seductive tramp from a book like tonight's would have. She had Lynne's attention and saw the surprise when Carey laughed. She didn't think to laugh, she just did. It was almost as if she could see into Lynne. Every twitch, quiver, caught breath, rapid blink, and sound was like a map all over her body...the map to what she wanted in order to be drawn in and all Carey had to was follow the path forward.

The laugh surprised Lynne and it showed, but it brought forth her own smile. It was warm and comforting, like that of old friends sharing a joke only they knew. That and the sweet pet of her arm just amplified the warmth in Lynne's belly. "This is a safe place to play."

"Play with me."

This time, she bit through the fruit, letting the juice flow down the corners of her mouth. Lynne followed the droplets as they glistened from the light above. It was an almost impossibly perfect angle, but when Carey moved her head in exactly the right way, for Lynne, the droplets seemed to twinkle. They moved more slowly than she would have expected had she really been thinking about it. The juice had a syrupy quality that, was, no doubt, what made them the best she'd ever tasted.

They were so sweet. And, as Carey chewed the half she'd taken slowly, Lynne felt hungry again. She knew how Carey's mouth tasted now and she felt hungry for it all over. Every bit of it was a show, from the slow rolling of her jaw as she chewed to the barely audible sounds that marked her satisfaction with it. As she watched, Lynne could feel the heat and the hunger melt the rational part of her brain and Carey wasn't helping.

"These are sooooooooo good. You still hungry? You still look kinda hungry. There's plenty. She stretched her arm outward to put the fruit near her quivering lips. "This is a safe place, Lynne. It's a safe place to be hungry."

Lynne looked at the oozing bit of fruit. There was still so much juice. It twinkled in the light of her mind. And that luscious, syrupy nectar was now commingled with Carey herself.

"You are still hungry, aren't you?"

Lynne nodded dumbly.

"That's okay. It's safe here. You can be hungry for anything you want here; anything you want."

Carey seemed to understand everything. They'd only known each other a few hours and it was obvious to Lynne right now that Carey understood her so well. They could be friends. And she was so hungry."

"It's okay to be hungry for whatever you want."

Lynne's mouth watered and her head dipped forward, but, somehow, the delectable stayed just out of reach.

"You're hungry. It's okay to be hungry. It's okay to be hungry for everything here. So hungry for everything."

Lynne's prize receded from her grasp just one more time, "Are you hungry?"

The answer escaped her lips at the speed she was used to, "I'm so fucking hungry."

When her mind found a fresh morsel of lucidity, she saw the treasure was firmly held between Carey's teeth. There was one treasure with another and Lynne needed both. It was her turn to suddenly laugh and she saw the smile in Carey's eyes along with the question as to what was on her mind.

"Strawberry Carey." She tittered again. "Carey strawberry." Before Carey could share in the good humor, Lynne attacked and tasted both, finding them both every bit as delicious as she'd dreamed. More sweet passed between their lips and Lynne stopped trying to wrap her tongue around Carey's long enough to chase it so that nothing was lost. The shared heat of their mouths matched the heat in Lynne's brain.

They kissed, the touching of their lips, tentative at first, but more passionate and audible as the two gave up on paying attention to anything but one another. Their lips popped together over and over and they liked the sound. It was sexy and naughty and Lynne could feel the pops in her brain. They tickled.

And, in the center of her brain, where that tickle was surrounded by a numb feeling like a limb that had fallen asleep, it was aware of the patient cadence of Trina's voice. It was calming. It added to her sense of safety. It added a sense of righteousness to doing what she was doing. They kissed and laughed as Carey tried to strip Lynne and Lynne trying to help without having to break contact with that sweet, sweet mouth for more than a couple seconds at a time.

"Such a pretty geek," she pronounced as she tore herself away enough to peel off her top and expose her small chest. Her breasts were just large enough to add some feminine definition to her chest, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to have huge tits like the ones in front of her.

You...sorta have 'em. She laughed at that before pressing herself against them and sinking in as she kissed Carey a bit more. Now, however, that there was nothing between her and those mounds, they called to her and she answered by weaving her lips and tongue from lips, to neck, to cleavage before hefting each of those tits to her cheeks before worshiping each one in turn with teeth and tongue as she molested them both as they rested in her hands and molested them without mercy.

Carey's sounds of helpless lust drove Lynne's to new heights and, in a pique of frenzy, Lynne took the glass and dumped the remaining contents down Carey's belly, leaving that bit of wine running down her belly, Carey looked so heated and Carey's whimper at the suddenness of the unexpected sensation led Lynne's mind to imagine steam rolling off that fair, smooth, freckled skin as a grape rolled to a stop just to the left of her belly button.

Lynne looked at it. The purple was a deep and dark hue, and it was a nearly perfect sphere and she knew it would be so full of rich, irresistible juice.

Rich. Irresistible. Juice.

She snatched it between her teeth with the speed of a serpent claiming prey, making Carey yip and finally focus her eyes on Lynne's, that adorable face now between her legs, running the fruit captured by her teeth up that pink cleft and in slow circles around her bright pink nub. Carey's heartbeat quickened in anticipation but she did nothing because she didn't need to. She had an idea of what was to come and she didn't need to be in control anymore. Lynne understood now. It was in her eyes.

Now, Carey could let go and she was so happy to let go.

Holding the piece of fruit firmly just above Carey's clit and popped it between her teeth, watching the sweet spray all over that girlflesh before starting to roll down her skin in slow motion. The snow-capped fairy girl chased it before it could escape her, reveling in the mix of fruit sweet and girl sweet. When Carey began to literally whimper like a puppy, Lynne spread Carey's knees with both hands and proceeded to drink her fill of the now flowing river of girl sweet.

In her mind, there was no difference between it and the fruit anymore.

Trina continued making her points even as she couldn't help but steal glances at the pair to her right. She continued her pleasant lecture as to the examples that proved her overall point of the book and she could have kept going all night, but she didn't need to. Some time around, 'Carey Strawberry' Gemma had tuned out entirely, though her mind still paid attention to the cadence of it was carried on the music in the air.

There was so much music in the air, but it was only when she was calm like this could she find the place where she could almost hear it, like whispers only close enough to be heard as whispers without other definition or meaning. But there was more than enough to listen to and to feel, so she just let Trina's voice and the music tell her what to feel. She'd never felt so relaxed in her entire life. Gemma could have moved, maybe, but that would require thought beyond listening to Trina be...right. Trina was right about everything she was saying....about shifting power dynamics, whatever that now incredibly confusing concept was. About submission. All of it.

And when Trina painted the pictures of Kristy and....and...the rich guy fucking she could see it again. She could feel the touches and gropes and the pinning of bodies against one another. Gemma could feel holes being stuffed and tits slapped. She saw it in her mind, and she felt it. It was true. The rich guy called Kristy a slut and she acted like one because it was true. Rich guy demanded that she pull a long, sweaty train of men to prove her devotion, and she said that she had no shame anymore and the music said it was true and Trina said that it was true.

Rich guy told Kristy that he he just wanted her to do it so that he could always degrade her with the filth that she was capable of wallowing in and they would both know it wasn't just some fantasy they fed to each other in the wild throes of sex. It would be true. She had to be what he wanted before rich guy would keep her.

Trina was right. Submission was right.

A woman tailoring herself to to be taken was right.

A woman being taken after she had perfected herself was right.

Those were the whispers Gemma heard. The more she relaxed and tried not to make them out, the better the whispers were carried by the music into her ears, the more clarity she found. Gemma could hear them now. Those words reverberated and found places to embed in her brain like shrapnel into flesh. Others that were just as true joined them. In a voice that her mind believed was hers.

Gemma needed to be perfected.

She wanted to be wanted. She wanted to be loved.

The sounds of sex around her drew her gaze to Lynne and Carey, Carey nude as the day she was born, Lynne between her legs lapping and sucking away, still wearing her shoes and her jeans, still looking something like the person that she was before she got here. They were being made better. That one still wore the trappings of normal even as she licked....even as she serviced...struck a chord deep inside Gemma. She was in the process of being perfected. Eventually what she thought was normal would be stripped away. She would soon be nude. Bare. Bare and that much closer to actually being worthy of being taken.

Gemma envied that.

Those emotions changed the music for her. I want to be wanted.

I want to be loved.

I wanted to be perfected.

I want to be worthy. Gemma wanted nothing more right now and she realized, unthinking that Trina's voice was the perfect companion to the the music in her mind.

Trina was the key, she realized. She was the key to Gemma being everything she wanted to be. She turned her head back and stared towards she who was now an oracle of truth. Perhaps, Gemma thought, if she stared as blankly as possible and looked as empty as could be, Trina would see that she was ready, that she was worthy of being perfected. She let all thought go, and all that remained was the need and hope that Trina would see.

Trina did.

Trina was already becoming adept at seeing what conversations with the self were going on behind their expressions. She could read the changes almost like words on a page. Trina continued to speak as though there was nothing on her mind beyond proving her points regarding the book, but Wendi surprised her. She could see Wendi float on a nice high, immersed to her neck in the pool of joy that Trina built here just for them. She looked half asleep and struggling a little not to travel the rest of the way, but there was light behind those eyes. Wendi was behind those eyes. She expected Gemma to be the challenge. She was often Trina's equal when it came to boisterous and outgoing. If Trina was the life of any party, Gemma could be the shot of adrenaline that gave it a second wind or took it to the next level.

But she was as surrendered as she could make herself be. Limp. Blank, but with need behind the eyes. Trina stopped talking about the book and watched Wendi's eyes open a little wider as the rational bit of her mind that was still around heard an end to the boring drone about a stupid little fuck novel, as though the book marked the dawn of a new Renaissance.

But that was over now and she could just sit here and breathe deeply.

Judging the two, Trina decided she could allow herself to have a little fun with things. Mistress would allow it if there was no risk, and there was none. If there were, the edicts She carved into Trina's mind wouldn't let her indulge to begin with. But She also knew that Trina loved to indulge because She gave Trina that, too. It was her reward from Mistress when She couldn't be there Herself.

"Gemma? I know you can hear me. Are you all right?"

"Ye--" A grimace lasted for the blink of an eye when she realized that her physical health was not enough. "No." The was better. That was true.

"No?"

She rushed to Gemma's side quickly as Gemma's dark eyes continue to stare straight ahead. If I stay blank, Trina might want me. If I stay empty, she might want to make me perfect. Trina can't see me still be me.

Trina looked to any outsider that might see like the worried host and friend and that's how Wendi saw it then when she moved her head through quicksand. The tones of worry and distress in her ear notched her alertness upward. A deep breath as if to speak and all she could do was feel that feeling of safety once again, which seemed odd somehow given that something seemed to be wrong with her friend. Blinking quickly and having to put a little extra effort into lifting her eyelids after. There was a worried part of her mind and a part that felt perfectly perfect.

Wendi grimaced in much the way Gemma just had. Something's wrong.

"What's wrong?" Trina asked, petting her arms to comfort her. "What's wrong, honey?"

The stroking soothed her, making it easier to reveal herself and the ache within. She knew just what to do. Trina was the answer. "I want..."

"What, Gemma? What do you want?"

Her expression remained smooth and her body still, but she dared move her eyes to meet Trina's, but she felt so wrong even speaking at all. "I want..."

"You have to answer me, Gemma. You must answer and you must tell me the truth. You can never lie to me."