Curious Girls Ch. 32

"That's so sexy," I choke out. "Fuck my chin harder."

She looks confused for a minute, then grins. Her eyes say it all. I feel the pressure from her thrusting increase. Unfortunately, it becomes clear after several minutes that, while she is enjoying herself quite significantly, she still isn't going to be able to cum fast enough.

I swallow as a thought occurs to me. She has no incentive to rush this on her own. She needs more encouragement. That's when I say something I never thought I would say.

"Fuck my face," I beg, knowing there is no way she will say no. "Cum on my mouth."

If her smile was big before, it's positively radiant now.

"I knew you would come around, no pun intended," she bursts out laughing.

I feel disgusted with myself, but the pain is unbearable. If history has taught me anything, it's that Tamara likes taking her time. And I need her to cum--now.

Tamara is only too happy to oblige.

She shifts her weight forward, her slick lips sliding over my mouth.

"I never thought I would hear you say that," she grins.

Her fingers slip behind my head as she begins thrusting her mound against my face.

"I'll bet you'd like me to fuck your tongue, wouldn't you?"

I want to say no. I also want her to hurry.

"Yes. God yes," I moan.

If she suspects I am putting on a show, she doesn't show it.

"Then stick it out," she demands.

I barely remember what happens next. The next few minutes are hard, fast, wet, and sticky. She thrusts her hips quickly, pushing my tongue back and forth along the length of her slit as she mashes her clit repeatedly into my nose. Between the lack of air and abundance of pussy juice beginning to coat my face, I feel as if I'm drowning again. Whether the stickiness is partially maple syrup, or entirely from her cum, it's impossible to tell. All I hear are impassioned moans and wet sucking noises. There is no build up or foreplay, just pure lust.

I hate every second of it.

"I want you to cum with me," she moans, reaching for the vibrator.

There was no way I am going to let that vibrator anywhere near me in this state. There was no way it could be anything but excruciating.

At least, I wouldn't allow it near me if I had a choice, but I'm quickly reminded otherwise.

Tamara pushes the massager directly between my legs, sending vibrations through my lower torso.

I was right. The pain is unbelievable. But I'm shocked to realize it also feels intensely pleasurable.

Tamara's timing is unnaturally perfect. I feel her body tense as she spasms. Her thick cum is just beginning to coat my lips as I feel rapturous, orgasmic pleasure shooting through my own body.

*****

"Hello, Michael." Tamara's voice takes on a sickly sweet tone. "So sorry to bother you, but I'm worried about Sara."

Gagged and tied to the bed, I can only hear one side of the conversation.

"We had a fight. She took off with my cell phone, but as you can see I got it back from Krista. She told me you gave Sara a ride home."

There was a long pause.

"No, I'm glad you were able to get her home safely. I just hope she didn't say anything too mean. She was pretty upset at me."

Another pause.

"Leave town? With you?" Tamara sounded incredulous, but then I saw a wicked grin creep over her face. "Well, I don't know if it's my place to say anything--"

Where was this going?

"It's just--when I spoke with Krista earlier, I got the impression Sara was just using you to get a ride home."

What was she talking about? When had she spoken to Krista?

"Really, it's none of my business. I just thought you should know."

Another pause. Each one felt like an eternity.

"Look, I shouldn't have said anything," Tamara backed off, defensively. "It's entirely possible Krista only said all that because she doesn't like you, and doesn't want you and Sara together."

What I wouldn't give to hear the other side of the conversation.

"I mean, she didn't say it in so many words--I thought you knew. Look, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell Krista I told you any of this.."

If she thought that Michael would fall for that--I hesitated. Well, what if he did fall for it? We weren't exactly in a great place. It wasn't such a stretch for Michael I had used him and then left him again. Not after everything else.

"Why don't you call her house and check on her? I'm sure this is all probably just a big misunderstanding."

Call the house? Why would Tamara tell him that? She knew I wasn't there. Unless--it finally dawned on me what Tamara was doing. She actually was being clever. If Michael called the house and spoke to Krista, it seemed unlikely she could tell him anything that wouldn't just confirm everything Tamara had just told him.

"Hey, Krista."

I had been so lost in my thoughts, I hadn't realized Sara had ended her call with Michael.

"So, I guess you know about the big fight Sara and I had."

Damn it. What was she doing now?

I squeal, trying to get Krista's attention. If Tamara is concerned about me being heard, she doesn't show it. Walking casually to the TV, she flips on to a music channel.

"Sorry, my neighbor turned up his music."

Walking to the other side of the room, Tamara continues.

"Anyway, so... you say you haven't seen her? Michael picked her up, and I'd assumed he was going to drop her off at the house."

Tamara paused, biting her lip.

She thinks she is so clever. But there's no way Krista will buy any of this. I strain my ears against the music, trying to hear the rest of the conversation.

"You don't think they ran off together, do you? You don't think he would--nevermind, forget I said anything."

I can't make out the rest of the conversation, but it ends shortly after.

"There. Problem solved," Tamara states matter-of-factly.

Is it possible Krista and Michael will both believe her? Will they even look for me? It seems more likely they will be focusing on each other. Tamara had made certain of it.

I found myself feeling more alone than ever before.

*****

Tamara leaves me alone the rest of the day--or at least, that is how I perceive it. I have little sense of the passage of time. Without a clock or window, all I can do is try to estimate the passage of time by Tamara's comings and goings.

I am a mess of tears and depression. It isn't until several hours have passed that I realize hunger is starting to creep back. I eye the scattered food warily.

It was several hours more before I am hungry enough to be tempted. I have no idea when Tamara is going to bring me food again, and I need to keep up my strength.

With a sigh, I reach down and pick up a sausage. It's cold, but it looks clean enough. I take a bite, enjoying the taste and, for a moment, forgetting I'm eating food that has been lying on the floor the better part of the day.

Rather than satiating me, the small morsel only serves to inflame my hunger. I grab another sausage from the floor, followed quickly by the final two. I am less enthused about the eggs, but I'm still famished.

Cautiously, I picked up a big piece of egg. I close my eyes and put the piece into my mouth.

It is cold and bland. I'm not sure what I really expected. It doesn't stop me from eating every remaining piece.

*****

"I'm going to bring in a package that arrived for you while you finish eating, if that's alright with you?"

I turn suddenly, embarrassed and surprised. I hadn't heard Tamara enter the room.

I shrug, trying to act casual despite the fact I was just eating food from the floor. I doubt she really cares about my opinion.

A few minutes later, she drags in a box, pulling it next to the chair. Bending down, she tears it open.

"It really is amazing the things you can buy online. We live in a wonderful time," she says as she pulls out a wooden box.

"What--is it?" I ask, slowing down as I start to get full.

"Just a little something I ordered for you a few weeks back. It took a while to arrive because it was custom made."

I set the empty plate on the bed.

"Why would I want a--what is it, anyway?"

"I'd rather just show you," she laughs. Why don't you get yourself cleaned up first? I left a toothbrush and some other toiletries in the bathroom cabinet for you."

Returning to the hand crank, she loosens the cord. I've never felt so happy at the prospecting of brushing my teeth and washing my face. With the slack, I'm able to reach the sink.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I'm appalled. Most of my makeup is gone, and my hair is a tangled mess.

I open the cupboard, and sure enough, it has everything I will need for an extended stay: a toothbrush, floss, toothpaste, makeup, a hair brush, and even dry shampoo. And next to the cupboard hangs a hair dryer.

Does she think I care about looking pretty--for her? Still, looking at my disheveled state, I realize my pride does require a certain amount of physical upkeep.

I briefly contemplate doing the exact opposite of what she wants--to make myself as unappealing as possible. However, I'm not about to give her reason to punish me again. Hell, I need her to trust me, and that task is already daunting enough.

*****

By the time I exit the bathroom, Tamara has finished not only setting up her new--whatever it is, but she has also changed the door lock to a new one with a keycode. Previously, the door had been locked from the outside with a key. However, there was no locking mechanism on the inside. That meant she hadn't been able to lock the door while she was inside with me. With this new lock, it seems she can lock the door even while in the room with me. And even if I do manage to overpower her, it would be useless without the door combination. How did things keep getting worse?

"You look incredible," Tamara grins, biting her lip and eying me in a way that makes me feel intensely uncomfortable.

I shake my head, dismissing my concerns for now. The truth is, fixing my hair and makeup actually did make feel a little better.

"So, are you going to show me what you bought?" I ask, motioning toward the box. I wasn't entirely sure it was safe to be asking questions, but I couldn't help my curiosity.

"So eager," she smiles, "But no. Not right now. I was thinking--we could watch a movie."

"A movie?" I ask, confused. That is definitely not what I was expecting.

"Well, I know it's been a rough adjustment, even without me having to punish you. I thought a movie might help you relax a little."

"I guess that would be OK. What do you have in mind?"

*****

I don't fight her this time as she guides to the bed. I try relax peruses the DVD selection.

"This one looks interesting," she says after a few minutes, turning one of the DVD covers in my direction.

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" I shrug, barely glancing at the cover. To be honest, I don't really care what we watch.

*****

"Scoot over," Tamara urges, hopping into the bed.

I acquiesce, increasingly confused as she climbs next to me, snuggling close as if we're old friends. I can't help glance in her direction as the movie begins. I was prepared to do almost anything to earn her trust. But a movie? It was perhaps the one thing I hadn't been expecting.

The movie is a surprisingly decent quality indie French film. I was initially bothered by the subtitles, but it's not long before I stop even noticing them.

The movie is about a straight woman who is engaged to be married to her childhood boyfriend. In the process of planning her wedding, she becomes friends with her wedding planner. As the movie progresses, it becomes clear they have feelings for each other, despite the main character's reluctance to admit her feelings.

"I don't buy it," I scoff aloud. "She's straight. There's no way her feelings could change like that."

"You don't know that!" Tamara defends, laughing. "Besides, maybe she just hasn't let herself think about it before."

I realize with a start that I'm actually enjoying myself. But is that such a bad thing? Tamara needs to believe I genuinely like spending time with her.

Tamara leans over, cuddling up next to me and resting her head on my chest. I look down in surprise. For the briefest of moments, it's hard for me to see her as someone who had abducted me and was holding me against my will. She just looks like a normal girl out on a date with her--wait, was that what this was?

"Tamara, is this--a date?"

"Sure, OK," she smiles, putting her arm around my stomach as she gets comfortable.

"No, I--," I start to protest.

It's not necessarily a bad thing if she thinks we're on a date. In fact, it's actually a great thing. I need her to trust me--to like me. I have to fight my instincts telling me to run, to fight, and to argue.

Her hand slips into mine, and our fingers intertwine. I close my eyes, trying to imagine Michael is lying next to me, but It's impossible. She smells too nice, her skin is too soft and her boobs are pressing into my arm.

Instead, I imagine that I'm lying on my bed, watching a movie with Krista. Just two sisters, chilling on a weekend watching a flick.

"Ooh, that feels nice," Tamara moans. I realize with a jolt I had been running my fingers through Tamar's hair. I'd let myself get comfortable, imagining relaxing with Krista. We'd often play with and fix each other's hair while watching movies. Did she think I hated her? That I never wanted to see her again?

"Hey, hey. Are you crying? Tamara exclaims, looking up at me. "You know they'll end up together."

I hadn't even realized my eyes were watering.

"No, you're right. It's a dumb thing to cry about," I quickly recover. I'm not about to admit to her the real reason for my tears.

"Sssh, don't cry," Tamara strokes my hair. It feels strangely comforting--and yet violating at the same time.

*****

As the credits roll, I can't help but think back over the movie. It was actually a really good film. At the beginning, I had been rooting for the main woman to stay with her fiance. But by the end, I was actually wanting for her to end up with the wedding planner. Of course, if it had been me, I would have stayed with the hunky, rich dude. But good movies always had a way of making you root for the underdog.

"So, what did you think?" Tamara asks, sitting up and straddling my torso. She puts her arms around my neck, playfully tugging my hair as she waits for a response.

"It was good. I liked it," I admit. "I thought their kiss at the end was really sweet."

"Yeah? Do you like when I kiss you like that?"

"Of course," I lie. I didn't necessarily hate it when Tamara kissed me, but I certainly didn't love it either. It wouldn't have been so bad if she understood that her tongue didn't belong all the way in my mouth. She beamed at my response.

"Good, I'm glad." Tamara leans down, pushing her soft, pliable lips against mine. A second later, her tongue darts against my lower lip, flicking it playfully. Before I can decide how to respond, she closes her lips around my lower lip, sucking it between her own.

Her teeth sink hungrily into my flesh as she tugs at my lip, her suction increasing as she pulls away. Reaching up, I run my fingers through her hair as I hold her close, trying to match her passion as I push my tongue roughly into her mouth. The kiss feels mechanical to me as I let my mind wander away from the flurry of tongues, but she doesn't seem to notice--or care.

I don't like such aggressive kissing. It feels strange to me that I should be so forceful about putting my tongue in her mouth, but it's the best way I can figure out to keep hers out of mine.

I can do this, I tell myself repeatedly. But do what?

*****

After what feels like hours, Tamara finally decides she's ready for a change of pace.

I'm just happy things seemed to be going well with her. At this rate, perhaps I can convince her to let me go soon.

"So, do you forgive me for peeing in your mouth before?" She asks abruptly, pulling a strand of long, red hair out of her face.

"Yes. I mean, I basically made you do it. What choice did you have?"

I was such a bad liar. But it was what she wanted to hear, so wouldn't even notice the lie.

"I'm so glad you understand! I didn't want to do it. You think I would want to kiss your beautiful lips after doing that to you? And I do like kissing those lips so much." She leans over and kisses me again. "Now that you've forgiven me, it means I can show you what I got this morning."

"Wouldn't you rather keep kissing?" I ask, suddenly worried.

"There will be plenty of time for that. Besides, this may even help with your kissing skills."

"I don't know--" I start.

"Come over her," she demands, tugging me toward the edge of the bed.

The tone in her voice has changed. It isn't as warm anymore. It's a tone I know better than to argue with.

"OK, OK. I'm coming," I try to maintain the air of playfulness, despite Tamara's steely gaze. "What am I looking at?"

"Just lie down," she instructs. "And lift your head up."

Sliding the box against my shoulders, she lifts up on the box and it partially separates. I watch Tamara as she works intently at her task, guiding my head into a hole in the side. As I let my head relax, I realize my head is cradled in some sort of headrest, and my face is poking through the hole in the top of the box. She grins excitedly as she lowers the lid of the box and locks it down.

"This fits you perfectly," she exclaims excitedly. "I was so worried the dimensions might be off."

With my head firmly held in place, I'm unable to so much as turn it even to the side.

I can only just see her now out of my peripheral vision, but I feel her pulling my wrists to the sides of the box where she locks them to the sides of the box on either side of my head.

"OK, I give. What is this?" I asked, confused and a little worried.

Tamara grins widely, a few strands of red hair hanging down in her face. It is disconcerting how her smile can look so beautiful and dangerous at the same time.

"It's a smother box," she bites her lip as she turns around. "I had a hell of a time trying to guess at the dimensions. The first one I bought had a terrible design. The headrest was much too low, and I knew how much you loved my ass. So I had this one custom made with a higher headrest to make sure you would be able to get your face nice and tight into my ass."

"Wait! How is this going to help with my kissing?"

"Because we're going to work on your lung capacity," she grins. Her ass coming into view as she pushes her pants and panties down with a single, fluid motion.

All I can do is stare in mute horror as her pale, freckled ass cheeks separate with her downward motion, almost as if in eager anticipation.

The worst part? My panties are already soaked through.

To be continued...

*****

As always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Part of what took so long this time around is all of the tenses suddenly started sounding wrong to me. Possibly because of all the first person stories I've been reading lately. I ended up changing everything in this chapter to more present tense and active voice.

That means it may have an inconsistent tone with previous chapters, but I'd be interested to know if people like it more. Less? Does it feel more personal? Or did you even notice?

Until next time!