Different Colors, Made of Tears

By Rain Slate

Summary: Two cis lesbians dominate a trans lesbian. Here's what to look out for: Kidnapping, heavy BDSM, caning, fucking, tickling, foot fetish, bondage, violet wand, and a bunch of other fun stuff.

Songs that go along with the story:

The Runaways- Cherry Bomb

Switchblade Symphony- Wicked

The Kills- Future Starts Slow

Angie- Venus In Furs (Velvet Underground cover)

Type O Negative- My Girlfriend's Girlfriend

Switchblade Symphony- Bad Trash

Razed in Black- Oh My Goth!

Switchblade Symphony- Dollhouse

Switchblade Symphony- Mine Eyes

Switchblade Symphony- Gutter Glitter

I checked my ass in the mirror again and again. I admired the way my tits looked in the mesh, black push-up bra that propped them up but still exposed them completely. I slipped my long-sleeved, cropped Switchblade Symphony shirt from highschool over my bra. My nipples poked through tantalizingly.

"You look so fucking hot." Chrys said, smirking at me.

"Thanks." I said thoughtfully, gnawing on my lip, scrutinizing my body, my outfit, my makeup. I changed my countenance a few times to see how I would look to Jasmine when I kissed her and when I punished her and took advantage of her. Did I look good enough? Did I look intimidating but, at the same time, sweet, like I had so much love to give but I only gave it out drop by drop, like cum, suddenly and then allatonce? Would she want it? Would she want me?

"So why are you so nervous?" Chrys prodded.

"Fuck off, Chrys. I'm thinking." I switched in and out of different pairs of high heels. What would she like? She was so much taller than I was. Would it be hotter for me to be bigger or smaller? I obsessed over every detail. I chose six-inch black pumps, which made me 5'8". If I tied her up on her knees, I could tower over her.

Chrys and I never fucked each other or anything; we were just really good at topping together. We played well off each other. Chrys was a little reckless. I liked that about her. She was a messy bitch. Sometimes she would fuck up and spill a candle on someone she was trying to engage in wax play.

She was reckless as Hell but I liked her and so did every woman she met. She was a complete disaster zone though, truly. One time, she brought a woman back to her place, tied her up and then couldn't get the knots undone. Fucking idiot. I went over to her house at four o'clock in the morning to help her untie this poor girl, who was completely spent after hours of screaming and coming. She was so grouchy by the time we finally freed her. It was hilarious.

Chrys and I were both messy bitches and we got into so much trouble together. We made some of the best and some of the worst (mostly the worst) decisions together.

Jasmine was about to be another worst decision. I was so excited to have her to myself with Chrys there to torture her with me. She had to know what she did to me. How could she not know?

Oh Jasmine. She wore rose-scented perfume. She was my favorite little bouquet. Jasmine was an effortlessly cool, beautiful trans woman I worked with. She had ice-blond hair and the sweetest, saddest brown eyes. I wanted to wreck her life, but in a hot way. Her legs were amazing. I shamelessly devoured her whenever she walked by. She was sweet and a little flirtatious. She would lean back against my desk and talk to me breezily without looking at me. She was so confident. All her clothes were tailored. Sometimes she wore her hair in frosty blonde curls. Those were the days my heart would melt.

Jasmine was so genuine and kind. I thought about asking her out, but I got shy. So I started thinking about getting her drunk and taking advantage of her with my super hot, sloppy friend Chrys. And those thoughts led to more thoughts.

The week that Jasmine moved her desk into my little area of the office was the week that I told Chrys we were going to pounce on this bitch and I was so fucking excited when she said yes. It only took a little bit of pouting and begging.

Chrys paced back and forth in front of the couch I was sitting on- me, sweet as pie, not doing anything wrong or untoward ever. She held her chin in one hand. Her brow was furrowed. She signed.

"Okay, so you want to kidnap her?" She asked, incredulous.

"Okay slow down, Dateline, it's not kidnapping." I snapped. "I just want to get her drunk and take advantage of but like, in a friendly way."

"You're a total predator."

"But she wants me. I know she wants me." I was positive. I saw how she looked at me with a mix of curiosity and intimidation. She couldn't read me. She didn't seem sure whether or not I was into her, even though I complimented her constantly, especially when she wore her hot pink pencil skirt and blazer with a lush cream blouse underneath. She looked incredible, like a little strawberry lollipop just for me.

"We've done some depraved shit, Ivy, but this is a new low for us." She laughed. "I'm in."

"Yay, depravity!" I cried joyfully, flinging myself into her arms. She caught me and spun me around, laughing.

"You're a life-ruiner, girl. You ruin people's lives."

"Only in the best ways." I replied. There was no way Jasmine didn't want me. She literally bent over in front of my desk that week to pick up something invisible on the floor. There wasn't even anything to pick up, she just shamelessly dropped it like it was hot right in front of my desk out of nowhere. It was amazing.

We went out on a Friday night, Chrys and I. I had overheard Jasmine agreeing with some of our co-workers to get drinks that night at the same local goth club I just happened to be going to anyway to see a Switchblade Symphony cover band.

"So you want to kidnap her from a work party?" Chrys asked a few hours before we left. "You never fucking said we were kidnapping your co-worker from a work party. Are you stupid?"

"First of all, I'm not stupid. I'm adventurous." She rolled her eyes. "This is part of the challenge!"

"Part of the challenge is getting fired and arrested?" She asked.

"No, asshole. This is the perfect opportunity to 'bump' into her, and we don't kidnap her, we just ply her with shots and gently suggest she come with us, right?"

"You're going to ruin my life too." She said, resigned.

"Yeah, but you're gonna love it!" I chirped, and we started getting ready.

I knew Jasmine was submissive. I knew the first week we worked together. She always wore a really exciting, big, yellow pearl choker every day, even if it clashed with her outfit.

We were in the break room on a Wednesday when I learned the most fun secret ever about her. As she reached into the cabinet to get her coffee mug, she turned her head, which was up in a really sexy messy bun, and I saw the clasp on her choker- a little fucking lock! Oh, my luck was so good. But who was her mistress or her master? Who had the key? Did she like women? Maybe I could get the key.

Then one day, it was gone. That is when I decided to make my move. But I didn't want to just take her to dinner. I wanted to make her my property. I wanted to show her how sexy I thought she was, how I couldn't resist her. And I wanted to punish her; I wanted to make her pay for teasing me so much, for being so mysterious, for not throwing herself at me like most women did.

I wasn't one of the girls she hung out with, but she didn't even have a picture of family on her desk, so how was I supposed to know anything about her? I mean, I only had a picture of myself in a heart-shaped frame on my desk. But all the other women had pictures of their families. Jasmine only displayed pictures of her cats, which meant she was probably definitely gay.

Chrys and I walked arm in arm into the bar. It was busy, mostly packed with leftover goths like me. Chrys looked amazing. She wore a pair of really sleek black, tight, stretchy slacks with a button-down black shirt, really form-fitting and tucked into her waistband. Her shirt was unbuttoned all the way down to her tits, which were absolutely incredible and propped up in a lacy, black bra, which was a little visible. She wore short heels with her little lesbian nightlife uniform. Her honey blonde, shoulder-length hair blew behind her. I admired her effortless sexiness and the dignified way she carried herself, as if she wasn't one of the most depraved women I had ever met, but in a good way.

Joanne cut me off near the door when we entered. "Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?" She exclaimed. "I didn't know you were coming!"

"That's because nobody invited me, Joanne." I laughed, joking but not joking. She began nervous-laughing, which I found really funny. She started to walk away but I grabbed her and gently swung her around.

"This is my friend Chrys," I said, connecting their hands into an awkward shake. "I'm super excited to introduce her to the girls!" I said, trying my hardest not to sound fake when I was definitely being fake. I just wanted an excuse to be near Jasmine.

"You are?" Joanne asked, incredulous. This was the first time I'd ever shown any real interest in my co-workers. I usually just did my job and went home; I was not there to make friends. However, I really wanted to be friends with Jasmine, especially now that her collar had vanished.

When I approached her at the bar, surrounded by our co-workers, I found out, to my great excitement, that she was wearing a different collar. The one that hugged her neck now was a thick leather bondage collar with a nice, big, shiny o-ring for me to pull my ropes through. I felt my panties getting wet just looking at it, thinking about hooking my fingers in it and pulling her down to my level.

She was probably over six feet tall in her amazing high-heeled boots. They came up to her knees, a few inches below her sexy black dress. Thin straps snaked up her slender shoulders. Her tits were pushed up so far, I couldn't help staring at them. Chiffon flowed down into a satin skirt. Her legs were bare. I wanted to push her against the bar and fuck her right there in front of everyone.

I walked straight past our co-workers and forgot Chrys was even there. "Holy shit, is that you, Goth Girl?" I laughed as I approached Jasmine, who was finishing her drink. I motioned for another round.

"I had a feeling you'd be here, Ivy." She smirked. "I know you like Switchblade Symphony."

"I fucking love Switchblade Symphony." I declared. "So why didn't you invite me?"

"Because I didn't want to make things easy for you. Everyone wanted to go out and honestly, you're kind of a bitch. You should be nicer to the other girls."

"Never gonna happen. I'm a monster." I smiled.

"Yeah, that's what you want people to think." She called me out. I felt a little naked for a moment. I didn't say anything. Chrys cleared her throat and it snapped me back into reality, the reality where Jasmine was standing in front of me like a little goth snack.

"You look hot as fuck." I gushed. She blushed a little bit and looked away.

"So I'm Chrys, you must be Jasmine." Chrys said, taking the drinks from the bartender and handing them out. Jasmine accepted hers and sipped it thoughtfully, appraising me. I turned to the side a little so she could see the way my plaid skirt hugged my ass. It was super short, halfway up my thighs. I had paired it with fishnet stockings and heels.

My long, layered red hair was up in a high ponytail and my bangs were long and straight. Jasmine seemed very interested in me and me alone until her eyes moved to the side and caught a glance of Chrys's breasts. Her eyes then lingered for a brief moment on all the rings I wore, because I love to leave marks. She gave me a knowing look as she turned to Chrys.

"I'm Jasmine." She purred, taking Chrys's hand in hers. She really was so mysterious and sexy. Her legs were so fit. I longed to run my hands up them and under her dress. I got wetter and wetter the longer I watched her full red lips talk to Chrys. I was not listening to what she was saying; I was trying to live inside her lips.

"Chrys." She replied, shaking Jasmine's hand eagerly as she looked her over, her eyes lingering on her perfect, thick thighs. "So you're a friend of Ivy's?"

"I wouldn't say friend." She said wryly, stirring her straw with her long fingers and short (gay???) black nails.

"No?" Chrys inquired.

"Well, if you count being kind of snobby and rude to me at work for six months, then we're besties." She smiled, challenging me.

"I'm not rude to you!" I protested.

"You're snobby and I always catch you staring at my ass." Again, completely called me out. I felt like I was going to throw up from the sexual tension.

I laughed, not because I was impressed by her wit but because I was thinking about how badly I was going to hurt her and what it would feel like to be covered in her come.

The wild goth band on stage immediately scared two of our co-workers out of the club. I was already getting close to getting Jasmine alone. However, even if I couldn't get her alone at the bar, I already had plans to get her alone in the parking garage.

I walked over to Jasmine, who was still leaning casually against the bar, nursing her vodka soda with lime slices in it. The second I approached her, I hooked my fingers right in her o-ring and smoothly pulled her down to my level. She gasped but she didn't fight me.

"I see your friends are dropping like flies." I laughed.

"They're not my friends, Ivy, they're our co-workers and they never get out- they're always with their kids. So I wanted to get them out of their comfort zones."

"You really are sweeter than candy, aren't you, Jasmine? Are you such a good girl?" I teased. Her eyes flashed quickly because I knew that as a sub, she most likely loved being called 'good girl'. However, there was no way she would admit that to me without a little prodding.

I released her o-ring and I could have sworn that she let out a little grunt of sadness as I let her go. However, she stood up and leaned right back against the bar as if I didn't matter at all, and I hated that. I had to make her mine. I had to make her beg and cry or I would die.

Chrys approached us from the other side of the bar with chilled vodka shots in her hands. She handed one to me and one to Jasmine, who pounded it without toasting or waiting for us. I liked her vibe.

The show ended and people began to trickle out. Jasmine said she had a buzz but that she was okay to drive home. I didn't think she was okay to drive, but it didn't matter because we were about to kidnap her. I thought I might be able to convince her tipsy ass to come home with us, but she wasn't that kind of girl. So I went to a plan B that I obviously hadn't told Chrys about.

"You're just as wild and obnoxious as I thought you were." Jasmine called back to me, turning around to wink, as she left the building, moving toward the staircase in the parking garage that led to one elevator.

Chrys turned to me, mildly panicked. "You're just gonna let her go? You barely tried to convince her to come home with us. That's not like you, Ivy."

"Oh, trust me, we're still gonna get what we want. Now move your ass! We have to get to the other elevator right-fucking-now."

Chrys ran to the elevator with me but she was still peppering me with questions. "You said we were gonna gently convince her to come home with us! Now we're doing a full-on kidnapping? What the fuck, Ivy?"

"Chrys, I'm just gonna tell you right now that a bunch of unexpected shit is going to happen in five minutes so if you aren't in, get out of the elevator. If you're in, hit floor six." She did as she was told.

We got out on the sixth floor. I had no idea where Jasmine had parked; I just panicked and chose a floor. There were a few people on the sixth floor but it wasn't very loud, so I just listened.

As luck would have it, I suddenly heard Jasmine's voice on the seventh floor, singing Switchblade Symphony.

"Fucking run." I snapped at Chrys and we hauled ass up the stairs. Jasmine was halfway across the garage on the way to her car. We ran as quietly as we could, ducking behind other cars whenever we thought she might turn around. But she didn't turn around. She teetered tipsily on her heels and almost dropped her keys. This gave us enough time to catch up to her just as she opened the door to her black Honda Civic.

We snuck up behind her, Chrys looking bewildered and scared. I reached up my skirt and pulled a small black knife out of my stockings by my inner thigh, where it had been hidden all night. It caught the light as I quietly opened it and Chrys looked like she was going to shit a brick.

Before Chrys could run away or warn Jasmine of my wicked plans, I thrust my knife up to Jasmine's throat and held it here, the blade facing her tender flesh. She froze. My knife was right up against her skin and she was a little drunk. I spun her around and pressed my body against hers, and her body against her car.

Her eyes widened when she focused and realized who was attacking her. I slid the knife down her body and made a little slice in her dress with it.

"You're coming with us, Jasmine." I whispered.

"Ivy?" She said, both confused and almost pleading.

I ran my knife teasingly and threateningly all over her body, even slowly up her inner thighs. "Don't fucking scream and don't try any shit. You're mine tonight and I have no fucking problem cutting you." I growled.

I held her pinned against the car with my knife against her stomach.

"Ivy? Fucking why?"

"Because I always get what I want and you're gonna do what the fuck I say."

She immediately started crying. Tears welled up in her terrified eyes and she started to quietly sob. I was living for it. Her desperation and fear fueled me. I could see Chrys was starting to get excited. I knew she wasn't going to bail on me.

I led Jasmine upstairs to the next floor, where my car was parked. I had one arm wrapped around her to hide the fact that my other hand was under her jacket, my knife pressed against her back. Chrys walked behind us so no one would see and intervene.

Jasmine's shoulders heaved and shook as I marched her forward to her fate. The more I felt her hiccup and sob, the wetter my pussy got.

She never tried to run. She just went along with us. When we approached my car, I opened the back door and herded Chrys and Jasmine into the car. I handed my knife to Chrys and got in the front seat.

"Why the Hell are you driving? Come sit with her." Chrys protested, clearly having second thoughts like a loser.

"Because if I sit with her, I'm gonna fuck her right there, and that's not what we're here for."

Jasmine started straight-up screaming.

"Get your head in the fucking game, Chrys!" I yelled as I tossed her a leather gag with a pretty red ball on it.

She did as she was told and secured the gag in Jasmine's mouth. I couldn't look at her with that gag in her mouth or I would have been so turned on, I wouldn't have been able to drive. But I saw her after a few minutes, in the rearview.

Drool ran down her chin from the gag and sad, black mascara tears ran down her face. She hiccuped crazily and started sobbing so hard, she broke down my defenses.

"Take the gag out, now!" I shouted at Chrys and she did.

Poor Jasmine collapsed into a pool of tears, begging, "Please, no! What the fuck are you going to do to me? Please, please don't hurt me!" She hiccuped, truly panicking. I turned around. We were at a red light and there was no one else on the road.

I took her hands in mine even as she tried to pull them away.

'Jasmine, look at me. It's Ivy. Look at me."

"Please don't kill me!" She cried.

"Kill you? Oh baby, I don't wanna kill you, I just wanna own you."

For a moment, she looked confused but then, the little submissive she was, she began to catch on. Her eyes narrowed.

"We're only gonna hurt you in the best ways." Chrys whispered loudly in her ear.