The Stronger Girl 05

This story was originally published as "Ever Is Over All".

The text has been copy-edited (with the help of HaltWhoGoesThere - who I am very grateful to for their time and input).

My intent is not to offend, but this is a d/s romance with strong themes of nonconsent and reluctance. If that's not your bag, I understand and hope you will find another story to enjoy.

As always I hope you will enjoy the story, and that if you do you will leave a comment.

XOSNS

"We're only going to stay with my parents tonight."

Annie had been looking out the window. Their seats were on the river side of the train, and Michele had given her the window seat, she had been lost in the passing view. Annie had been watching the neon pinks and fluorescent oranges of the sunset fading over stone cliffs and trees and water. She could see Michele in the reflection of the glass, saw that The Stronger Girl was looking down, turned to see that she was looking at her hands, that they were twisting in her lap.

"My parents can't know, but we are going to stay with my brother David tomorrow night."

Annie watched The Stronger Girl, seeing that she was struggling with something; unsure what to say or do, how she might help. She wanted to reach out and take her hands, calm their struggle but wasn't sure how The Stronger Girl would react. Annie was afraid that if she touched her right now that she would push her away. It had been this way since Michele had gotten the call from her parents.

The week had started off wonderfully. The girls had gotten up together early Monday morning. Michele had been in good spirits, talkative even. After cleaning up they had scooped up Nancy and all three had breakfast together in the dining hall, attracting a small crowd of other students. Jill, her favorite sourpuss, a funny boy named Bradley from her lit course - who also knew Nancy (of course) - Shawn the giant boy from Film Club and a couple of girls Annie had never met but who seemed nice.

Nancy and Michele had seated her between them again, which Annie liked, and she'd enjoyed the company more generally, but had been the first to leave, having been the only one to have made the mistake of signing up for an early Monday class.

The day had gone by in a blur. Nancy had found her at dinner, and after eating together they'd walked back to their rooms afterward and studied on Annie's bed till Michele had gotten in from the library looking tired.

Nancy had made her exit and Annie, who was as tired as Michele looked, had been happy to crash early. The two of them talking in the dark a little, but not much, and about nothing at all. Annie had watched Michele for an opening; that she might make some sign, or say something - but she didn't. And even as tired as she was, Annie had felt disappointed. She had lain in the dark imagining going to Michele, kneeling beside her bed, and begging to lick her. She felt herself getting wet as she imagined going to Michele's bed, but saying nothing, just quietly slipping under The Stronger Girl's sheets, of eating her out in the muffled darkness of her covers. But Annie had been afraid she would reject her - didn't even touch herself, scared Michele would hear; that she would disapprove. As she fell asleep she had thought about how much she had given herself over to the other girl's pleasure.

Tuesday had been warm, so warm it seemed almost like a holiday. The whole college was out on the quad studying, visiting, playing games, or just enjoying the sun. Annie had eaten her lunch on the lawn and managed to get sunburned on her nose and cheeks, which Michele thought was very cute and she and Nancy had made a great fuss over salving the burn with creams that night. Again Annie had hoped The Stronger Girl would act. She imagined Michele grabbing her; forcing her - but again nothing. And again, Annie had been too afraid of upsetting their delicate equilibrium to initiate anything herself.

Wednesday night Annie had gone to the Film Club with Nancy and had had a nice time. As promised Nancy had gotten Shawn to back off ("But please don't make him feel bad," Annie had asked - not wanting to hurt the giant boy's feelings). They had watched Fritz Lang's "M", with Peter Lorre, which Annie had never seen and enjoyed. Afterward, Donald, the club's faculty advisor, had led a discussion of the film, which she had found less engaging, but mostly because she was distracted.

She had known that Michele had her trail run with the Cross Country club that afternoon. The week before she had stayed out with them and come back to the room drunk. Michele had stripped and masturbated, had let Annie touch her, but it had ended terribly, with Michele sobbing inconsolably. While the others talked about the film, Annie wondered what might happen later that night; fantasized about it. She realized that she had been fantasizing about it for days.

When she got back to the room it was dark, Michele's clothes were scattered where she had left them before her run. Annie started to pick them up and fold them, then stopped herself, wondered at what she was doing.

'I have become the servant I dreamed of,' she thought.

When she had finished cleaning up and putting away The stronger Girl's things, she spent a half-hour going over her class materials for the next day, got cleaned up for bed. When she got back to the room, she turned off the lights but left the shades open for Michele. Annie had then stripped naked and climbed into bed.

She had felt charged lying in the dark naked - she had never done that before - it was sexy and exciting and daring, but more than a little bit scary. She touched herself a little, but just to feel her fingertips on her body. She ached for Michele, but was still making up for an exhausting weekend, and had fallen asleep. Annie woke up to the crash of Michele dropping her keys and light spilling in from the hall.

Michele swore softly, let the door close, and kicked her keys across the floor; swearing again. Annie watched through slit eyes as The Stronger Girl, bent double, pawed the floor for her keys in the dark, and then gave up. Swaying slightly she stood again in the doorway, perhaps gathering herself. Annie listened then as she grunted and huffed; kicking off her shoes and struggling with her jacket.

Annie took a deep breath, stood, and walked to The Stronger Girl. With shaking hands, she'd reached carefully around Michele to lock the door before helping her with her jacket.

"You're naked," The Stronger Girl said as Annie worked the sleeves off her wrists.

"Yes," Annie agreed, her breath shaking; remembering the rejection of the week before, remembering the tears, the days of icy silence that had followed. Taking Michele's shirt by the hem she began lifting it. The touch of The Stronger Girl's hard lean flanks against her hands made Annie feel tiny and weak. Michele had raised her powerful arms obediently and bent over at the waist so Annie could pull it off. She smelled of whiskey and the cold sweat of her run. As Annie pulled the sports bra over her bent head, she inhaled the scent of her; went soft with it. She took Michele by the hand - again, her hands had felt so small and frail by comparison - and backed towards the middle of the room, standing Michele between their beds.

She reached for the waistband of her track pants. Pushing them down, Annie told her "Hold on to my shoulders," and knelt before The Stronger Girl. On her knees, Annie had been able to take a deep shuddering breath, as Michele leaned on her for support relief washed over her.

Michele swayed but held tight to Annie as she freed her ankles.

"Good," she told Michele and reached up to pull down her shorts and panties.

"Careful," she cautioned as she freed Michele from them. They smelled musky. Annie stood on her knees, her lips so close to Michele's lips, the smell was much now stronger, more intense. She looked up at The Stronger Girl, catching her by the hips as Michele staggered a step to the side.

"You should lay down," Annie told her.

"No," her voice crisp, "you lay down," Michele ordered her.

Annie slid up onto her bed. Thinking of how The Stronger girl had bound her arms above her head with her t-shirt and ridden her face, she stretched out as long as she could, her arms over her head, squeezing her shoulders together, her hands locked, fingers laced. Her whole body was shaking with excitement.

"Like this?" she asked quietly.

Michele said nothing; climbed over Annie, straddled her face, but rather than facing the same way she had before, The Stronger Girl kneeled, facing Annie's feet. As she lowered herself, Annie craned her neck to meet her, putting out her tongue and licking Michele's already open and wet channel.

"No," Michele told her sternly as she rolled her hips, "you fucking eat the ass."

Annie had been shocked by the swearing, the coarseness of the order, the crudeness of the command. Shocked into obedience. Humiliated by her own zeal, she ate Michele's ass.

The call came Thursday afternoon. It was Nancy's roommate Leslie who came to get Michele. She and Annie had a class together, but Annie didn't count Leslie as a friend, and really never had. Annie knew she and Nancy didn't get along, and for that reason alone Annie would have been wary of her. But she hadn't liked Leslie from the first moment they had met, hadn't trusted the way Leslie had treated her. In any case, it was Leslie who came and got Michele. But when The Stronger girl headed down the hall to the phone Nancy's roommate had lingered.

Studying her standing there, Annie had recalled drying herself off after her shower that past Saturday. She had overheard Leslie and another girl who lived on their floor named Clare, gossiping just outside her stall.

"...Charlie's Angels?" Clare had barked.

"I don't know what's going on there. I think they're a throuple," Leslie had told the laughing girl in a conspiratorial voice. "And the little one, what a fucking space cadet."

The two girls had then gone on to exchanging a seemingly endless series of "dumb blonde" jokes. Laughing and egging each other on.

Annie had hidden in the shower for as long as she could, but finally, she was too cold and too hungry to wait any longer and had had to step out of the stall behind them.

The girls were laughing and doing their faces in the mirror, but seeing Annie emerge in the reflection between them they had frozen, looking horrified.

"It was just-" Clare had begun. "We didn't mean anything."

"It's ok," Annie had said to them smiling, "I didn't get any of them anyway," and had made her exit.

Standing there nervously in her open-door Annie had studied Leslie for the first time really. She wasn't an ugly girl, a little out of shape and a bit of an awkward frame, but she had lovely red hair, bright green eyes, her face covered in golden freckles - which Annie thought were beautiful. She wore an expression that Annie found off-putting, however. Like she was perpetually just about to laugh at how dumb something was. Even standing there, anxiously trying to decide if or what she was going to say to Annie, she'd looked like she was on the verge of sneering.

"I'm really sorry about Saturday," she told Annie. "I'm not sure how long you were listening..."

Annie had struggled with whether or not to tell Michele and Nancy about the gossip and had decided not to. She was less worried about Nancy, who she imagined would just brush it off. She was more afraid of how Michele might react. Not that she would get angry and confront Leslie and Clare, but that she might get scared and withdraw from Annie again.

"They're just jokes," she told Leslie. "I know they don't mean anything."

Leslie looked relieved and smiled, but the contempt was still there in her expression. Perhaps she felt like she was pulling something over on Annie, that she had gotten away with something.

'Or maybe that's just her face,' Annie had thought.

Annie and Michele had been assigned each other as roommates, but only because they were both new, transferring in their second year. Nancy and Leslie were in their second year as well, but they had both come in as freshmen. They should have had the opportunity to choose whoever they wanted to room with. Nancy had so many friends, it seemed more than odd to Annie that she had gotten stuck with Leslie as a roommate.

"Good. Yeah good," Leslie agreed with a mirthless guffaw before turning away. "Just jokes."

When Michele came back from the phone her face was tight, her jaw locked.

"Would you like to spend the weekend with me in the city?" She had asked Annie. She had made a face, something between a smile and a grimace. "My parents are in town and asked if I'd like to invite you. They're curious to meet you, I think - I mean they are. I know they are, I mean."

Annie had been surprised. Not by the invitation, but by the idea that Michele had spoken to her parents about her. She thought about her phone calls with her mother. How much she told her about Michele over the past two months - so much that she had decided not to discuss Michele unless her mother asked about her first. Somehow she had never imagined The Stronger Girl might have spoken to her parents about her though.

"They'll take us to a show," Michele promised, "and the hotel will be nice, it always is," she'd promised.

'Sweetening the pot,' Annie thought. She realized with a start that Michele was nervous.

She had of course agreed to go; telling Michele how much she'd like to meet her parents, doing her best to put The Stronger Girl at her ease.

They had packed their bags that night. Nancy, who peeked in on them in passing, had invited herself to help when she saw what they were doing, and sat with them as they picked out what they should wear; pressing Michele for details about her family.

Annie had known Michele's father was an executive for Coca-Cola and that they lived outside of Atlanta, where Michele had grown up. But it turned out Michele's parents were much older than Annie's mother. She had known The Stronger Girl had three older brothers, but not that they were all in their thirties, that the oldest was 36 and was married,

"I was an 'oopsie'," Michele had explained. "And in some ways an only child - the boys were just so much older." Annie thought she sounded a little sad, about being a mistake, but also about being separate.

Nancy asked if they were strict. The way she asked, made Annie think Nancy's parents must have been very strict. She thought about how strict her mother was, how harsh she could be.

"My brothers say they were really strict," Michele told her, "so you'd think they would have been twice as hard on me, but they weren't. I think the boys had worn them down. By the time I came around they were pretty relaxed, or totally exhausted - depending on who you ask. My brother David says I was raised like a cat, that they made sure I was fed and clothed and had a roof over my head. But that I was allowed to roam as much as I liked, and pretty much do whatever I wanted."

When Nancy asked what she thought they would be doing that weekend, Michele had said her mother mentioned the ballet. "They are very conservative," she explained. "Mostly the whole family is."

Nancy had shot Annie a worried glance. But it had lasted just an instant - a spark of an expression - and then Nancy's face was lit with excitement at the prospect of what they should wear to the ballet. It had taken two hours, involving a deep exploration of all three of their wardrobes, and multiple "fittings". But Annie had been happy to see that it had distracted Michele from whatever anxiety she had about the visit. The Stronger Girl had whined and complained, but had happily tried on all the outfit combinations Nancy had handed her; had laughed and cheered as Annie had tried on hers. Michele had relaxed, and for a time all the tightness had gone from her face. Annie had marveled at Nancy's ability to put The Stronger Girl at ease

"She upped the game," Michele had told Annie with a smile as she was climbing into bed that night.

"Oh look at you two!" Michele's mother exclaimed when she saw them. Even warned, Annie was surprised by how thick her southern accent was - since Michele had none.

"It gets stronger when she's nervous," Michele had told her as they walked towards them down the platform.

"Oh my goodness! You are even prettier than Michele said you are," she told Annie, as she squeezed her hands. "Oh, and that is such a beautiful coat!"

Annie had taken Nancy's counsel (not that she had had much choice really) and opted for style over comfort. She had left her wonderfully warm new parka behind and instead wore her dress coat. A long black wool vintage coat that fit her arms and chest snugly and flared at the waist with a Burberry scarf that Nancy had loaned her. She had on a black mini dress that her mother had bought her for a wedding two summers before. It fit tight across Annie's small breasts - the way her mother liked - and, after a year and a half, was a little shorter than Annie liked, but it was pretty. It had short sleeves, black buttons down the front, and a large white "Peter Pan" collar. Nancy had put her in white hose and her little black round-toed wingtips. She knew she looked little-girly, that that's why Nancy and Michele had dressed her that way; the naughtiness of it.

Even if the outfit wasn't what she would have chosen for herself, she had enjoyed the other girls' attention, as they dressed and undressed her repeatedly - like a doll. Annie's only real contribution to the ensemble were two small hair clips that she'd placed at either side of her hairline; each sporting a small red silk knot.

"Like little horns," she'd had thought.

Nancy had put Michele's hair in a French braid that morning. She was wearing a pale trench coat with black ribbon piping that made it look like a drawing of a trench coat. She wore it over a lovely black pleated chiffon "parasol" dress that Nancy had been very excited about when she saw it, which made Annie think it must be expensive. It was beautiful, with a chaste scoop neckline and a small shawl-like cape - that both hid and accented Michele's breasts. But Annie was most excited about Michele's thigh-high stockings and 4-inch heels, picturing herself kneeling between them.

Michele had done Annie's makeup on the platform while the two of them waited for the train. The tightness in The Stronger Girl's face was back, the lock of her jaw as well.

Michele's parents were both tall and elegant in their evening wear and both had thick silver-white hair. Perhaps noticing Annie's attention, her mother said, "I gave up dying it, not long after Michele was born," she'd explained. "It was the boys..." touching her hair. "They did it to me."

"It's lovely ma'am," Annie smiled, touching a lock of her own short white blonde hair in sympathy. Annie wore it in what she thought of as an 'emergency pixie cut' after a recent experiment with bangs gone terribly wrong. She missed having long hair.

"You are just too wonderful Annie, like a little doll," her mother had gushed, taking her by the shoulder and following Michele and her father who were leading the way.

Annie smiled up at her, thinking of Michele, drunk and swearing, refusing to let Annie lick her pussy and grinding her asshole into Annie's mouth instead. Ordering her to lick it and fuck it. Thought of the way she had held onto Annie's pussy the whole time. At first, Annie thought she was going to finger her; had tried humping against the heel of The Stronger Girl's hand. But Michele hadn't allowed her to do that. Annie had begun to suspect that Michele was just supporting herself, the way she bore down on it, like a handle. But finally, thinking back on it, Annie decided it wasn't that, that there was something else happening.