Finding Myself

"A cyclohexamine mixed with a little diazapam it won't do you any harm"

I do not know what chilled me more, the fact that she had done it to me or her frightening familiarity with the compounds.

"Rachel, let me up right now or there will be serious consequences."

She ignored me completely and spoke almost to herself.

"It's why they tolerate me you know, Chloe and the others, I'm good at chemistry if you get my drift."

The thought of her as some sort of local drug baron did not bear thinking about.

"Rachel, what are you doing? You have a nice home here, a bright future, you could go to jail for this."

"A nice home? My dad left when I was two. My mum lectures on animal husbandry. She's never here and when she is she's a controlling bitch. The only thing she's good for is the drug samples they send her from time to time."

She sounded like a petulant child but seemed all the more frightening for it. I tried to reason with her.

"What have I done to you? Why are you angry with me?"

"You? You've done nothing to me...but you will do."

"You think I intend to harm you."

I had misconstrued and she smiled.

"I was there, yesterday, watching, out by the bleachers."

I did not like the direction the exchange was taking.

"You can't have been. I would have seen you."

"But you didn't. But I saw you alright. I saw what you did for her. ..I want you to do that for me."

I looked at her aghast.

"Rachel, what happened yesterday was wrong. They'll be punished for it."

"That doesn't change anything. You're going to do it."

My anger flared.

"You will release me right now young lady or there will be hell to pay."

"I don't like you angry. I'm going to cheer you up a little."

I shouted after her as she left the room but she was back seconds later. She was holding a simple, modestly sized, white vibrator not unlike the one I kept at home.

"I used this last night while I watched. Do you want to see?"

She held her cell phone in front of my face and ran a snatch of video. It showed Chloe on the bench with my head between her thighs. She must have been close by, but I could not figure where, or why I had not seen her.

My immediate thought was that this might be the evidence I needed but the short clip did not show the beating nor was it obvious that I was tied down,

"Do you have any more...video..or photo's?"

She snapped the phone shut and chuckled.

"Maybe..."

She contemplated the vibrator for a moment and then held it under my nose.

"Does it smell of me? It should do. I use it all the time."

In truth it smelt soapy but the thought that it had recently been put to intimate use caused an undesired stirring.

She smiled as if she understood and then took up station between my wide spread legs.

"Rachel, this is an assault. If you let me up now we can discuss this like adults but if you make me go to the police I will press charges."

She ignored me and switched on the vibrator before holding it up for my inspection.

"New batteries...the bunny ones...we can play for hours."

Her words made me snatch a look at the bedside clock. It was just after four in the afternoon, suggesting that I had been out for over two hours, but, more importantly, I wondered when her mother might return.

"She's away for the night, if that's what you're thinking."

I pulled at the stockings again, in total frustration, but to no avail.

"Stay away from me...I'm warning you."

She stroked the very tip of the vibrator along the length of my sex as I tried to turn myself away.

"You have pretty lips...mine don't show...but you'll see for yourself."

For the next minute or two I tossed and turned to the limits of my restraints but she remained totally unmoved. When I gave up, and lay breathing heavily, she rolled the vibrator across my inner thigh.

It was a pleasant sensation but I did not want it to be so. I struggled again but she simply waited and then afforded the same treatment to my other leg.

I decided to try a different approach and signal my lack of co-operation by remaining stock still but she continued to tease the vibrator over my legs whilst, every now and again, dipping a little closer to my sex.

I closed my eyes and tried to think of home but her forays became more frequent and, each time, she lingered just a little longer.

I do not often resort to my plastic partner, preferring the dexterity of my own fingers, but she had such a gentle touch and seemed to know exactly when and where to apply pressure.

Sometimes she would simply let it rest on my mound but then she would turn it a little, threatening penetration, but always holding back.

I told myself that all I needed to do was to concentrate, focus my anger, and ignore the growing sensations but I was constantly reminded of my physical vulnerability. I kept trying to close my legs and when I felt my nipples starting to grow firm I jarred my shoulder in a reflexive attempt to cover my breasts.

Over the next half an hour I repeatedly exhorted her to let me go but she simply refused to reply and focused on my response to the damnable vibrator which was having an ever greater effect.

With a frighteningly steady hand she teased the very tips of my labia and it took all of my willpower to keep myself still. I did not want her to know that she was getting to me but the physical manifestations were all too obvious.

My body had a sheen of perspiration and I could feel a growing wetness between my legs.

"Why are you fighting it? Ask me nicely and I'll let you feel it inside."

I gritted my teeth and heard her quietly chuckle as I whispered under my breath.

"You little bitch..."

Taking this as her cue she held the vibrator so that the blunt nose rested gently on a point just above my clitoris. The effect was immediate and amazing.

The vibrations seemed to spread out from that single point to tingle my whole body. Within a few seconds I was quivering on the edge of orgasm but then came a sudden empty silence.

She left me hanging as she coldly switched it off and stood up from the bed.

"Cool down for a few minutes...I'll be back."

I shouted after her but she left the bedroom without another word and I strained to hear her moving around downstairs.

It must have been a least a quarter of an hour before she returned by which time my body had calmed down a little.

"Rachel, let me go and we'll say no more about this."

It was a lie. I had been humiliated just once too often and she was going to pay for it. She moved closer to the bed with her head tilted a little, as if pondering my offer, but then she smiled.

"I don't think so. You and I are having way too much fun."

I thrashed my body in frustration but the bindings held and she waited me out.

"You have beautiful nipples, but then I suppose that people have told you that."

She picked up the vibrator and, having switched it on, she touched it to my breast. I tried to turn away and she gave a tut of disapproval.

She hiked up her skirt and, mounting the bed, nestled astride my stomach pinning me firmly in place. I was immediately aware of the heat between her legs but I was given no time to dwell on it as she brushed the vibrator over my nipples.

The reaction was almost instant. I lay stiff and obdurate but I could feel the treacherous engorgement.

Fired by her success she used the very tip to tease them to greater prominence and I felt an all too familiar stirring in my groin.

"I could make you come by doing this..."

The way that she addressed me, with a familiarity and maturity well beyond her years, was unsettling but there was no doubting the effect she was having.

I had tried to get Sean to pay more attention to my breasts and I was convinced that, with less impatience, and a little more sensitivity, he would be able to bring me to a climax but I was not is a position to criticize. I had often brought myself close by coaxing my nipples but overexcitement had always gotten the better of me.

She began to hum, a mocking counterpoint to the thrumming phallus, as she continued her delicious torture.

How long it went on for I could not say. Half an hour? Perhaps more. I began to turn my head from side to side as my whole body tensed. She took me to the edge on at least four occasions and the frustrated urge to touch myself, to find release, almost brought me to tears.

"Please...I can't take any more."

"Don't be silly. Of course you can...we've hardly started."

With that, she put the vibrator aside and began to gently pinch my distended nipples between her delicate fingers. For a few seconds I felt a sense of merciful relief but her knowing touch soon lifted me to an even higher plateau.

I did not want to surrender but it was now going to take very little for me to reach my long sought goal. Somewhere, at the back of my mind, I was aware that my sex had begun to leak, a prelude to the final breaking of the dam.

I teetered at the brink, a hostage to her cruel benevolence, but she let her fingers slide away.

"Not yet...not by a long way."

I almost whimpered in frustration and watched as she theatrically brought the back of her hand to her brow.

"It's a little warm in here don't you think?"

As I watched she started to unfasten the buttons of her blouse before casually discarding it and revealing her breasts. She must have hovered at the fringe of adult bra sizes but they were beautifully shaped and, from my supine position, I could appreciate their perfect curvature.

She lifted them a little drawing my attention to her delightful nipples. They were perfect half dollars cast in dusky terracotta and she began to brush them with her thumbs.

My own breasts ached as I watched them engorge and it was if I could still feel her fingers as she began to playfully tweak them. For the next few minutes she remained lost in her own pleasure and, whilst it may have only been in my mind, I was sure that I could feel an increasing wetness on my stomach.

I wanted to close my eyes but found myself continuing to stare. At one point I found myself working my tongue around the inside of my mouth reminding myself of those deviant moments when I wished that my breasts were sufficiently large that I could suckle myself.

My mind must have drifted because, when I returned to reality, it was to find her looking at me intently.

"I am this close to coming...but I'm going to save it all for you."

She slid herself off of me and without any further preamble she picked up the vibrator and applied it to my sex once more.

After a further twenty minutes I was pleading with her either to stop or to finish me off. My body was cramped and relaxed by turns and she was testing my sanity.

She was still threatening penetration, allowing the head to push through the gates of my labia, and I felt as If I were gaping in anticipation. There was an increasing pressure but, just as I thought she was going to relent, she withdrew altogether.

She had turned off the vibrator but it was a second or two before I noticed. It seemed as though I was still hearing it so familiar had it become.

She got up and left the room. Shortly afterwards I heard the shower running and then another sound. She was singing something contemporary, I could not quite place it, but she had a haunting melodious tone.

When she returned she was completely naked and any lingering doubts I might have had regarding her femininity were dispelled. She would have no worries on the swimsuit front; any style would have suited her with her subtle curves and newly revealed self-confidence.

I entreated her once more but she proved totally implacable. She took up where she left off and started on my sex again.

My body ached and I felt exhausted, certainly beyond further arousal, but she was not to be denied. She focused her attention on my clitoris, circling it with a gossamer touch.

In less than sixty seconds she had me strung at the highest pitch desperate to be plucked. With new found strength my body arched up from the bed but she moved with me barely staying in touch.

When I could no longer hold myself rigid, and collapsed weakly, she simply started again.

We must have gone through the cycle at least a dozen times and, by the end, I was begging her to finish me off.

"You can come whenever you want to...you just have to make me come first."

She slinked onto the bed, through my open legs, and pinned my shoulders with her knees. Her sex hovered above me and she had not lied. Unlike mine hers was a tight clamshell, a vivid pink contrasting with her pale skin tone.

It looked as if she had been slapped and I wondered if it was an indicator of her excitement.

She relaxed a little and brushed her sex over my nose and mouth. My nostrils immediately flared and my mouth watered involuntarily.

"See, you do like it..."

I was slipping into a vale of darkness. I knew it was sinful but I could not help myself. Her words were mesmeric and I could see nothing beyond that tantalizing, roseate, upland.

"Let me see your tongue..."

I let it loll from my mouth and she softly touched her sex to it before drawing away but it was enough to pick up her taste.

She had me, and she knew it. She held herself a tongues length away and, as she knew I would, I closed the gap.

"That's more like it...do I taste nice?...Nicer than her?."

As I applied my tongue her sex distended and I was shocked by the marked contrast between the modest warmth of her mound and the wet heat of the now exposed interior.

"See how creamy you've made me?"

As I held my tongue in place it was coated with a rich ooze and I began to lap at her with slavish devotion. The taste enlivened me more than the strongest espresso and I could not get enough of it.

"Aren't you the greedy one..."

She laughed as I pushed my tongue inside her almost grunting with effort.

She moved forward a little, letting me bear some of her weight, and then I felt a rhythmic pulsing as she strained towards her inevitable orgasm.

"How does it feel...knowing...that I'm going to come on your face."

She punctuated her words with a gentle thrusting of her hips.

"Oh God....here it comes."

She suddenly bore down on me, shutting out both light and air, isolating me in an uncomfortably humid world where my perspiration became comingled with her increasing wetness.

A final, painful, squeeze of her thighs heralded the finale but my only share of it was a struggle to breathe.

She kept me under for a moment or two, as her obvious pleasure abated, and then she scooted up until she was resting on my sternum.

Her face bore a beatific smile and she had a high colour in her cheeks.

"Look at you..."

She playfully ran a finger over the greasy mess coating my face and, before I could react, she fed it into my mouth.

At that instant I hated her but, at the same time, I realized that I was still poised within a hairs breadth of a climax of my own.

"Shall I make you come?"

I did not want to answer but I found myself nodding assent.

"That's good, because I'm not finished. I want to come again."

She lightly turned herself around so that she was facing down my body and I was left gazing at her taut, rounded, backside.

It was unblemished and seemed curiously smooth. It was only as she lowered herself once more that I realized that she was completely and utterly denuded of body hair and I suspected that she had applied body lotion after her shower.

"I want you to lick my clitoris..."

I could not believe how brazen she was and I was left wondering about her sexual history.

She settled in such a way as to accommodate her own request but it was still a long stretch for my tongue.

I was tempted to refuse but, out of my sight, she reapplied the vibrator. Within seconds she had me gasping.

"I can't feel anything...and you don't get to come until I do."

In order to comply I had to tilt my head a little and my nose eased between her tight cheeks until it was pinched closed. From this position I could lick the apex of her sex but I could not discern her clitoris.

It took a second or two to comprehend that she was toying with me, bringing the vibrator closer to bear on my own clitoris as I homed in on hers. My body went rigid when she finally touched the spot and, clearly, I had done the same for her as a trickle of moisture ran over my tongue and threatened to choke me.

I must have been closer than her because she eased off for a moment and concentrated on her own need.

I redoubled my efforts desperately wanting her to reengage and I did not have to wait for very long. Her hips began to move again and now it seemed enough simply to have my tongue in her sex.

She was starting to climax again and I prayed that she retained enough control to take me with her. I almost cried out as I felt the tip of the vibrator moving away but as her orgasm took hold she pushed in deep inside me with a single, purposeful, thrust.

The shock of it, combined with the instant onset of my climax, took my breath away and, for a few seconds, I thought I was having an out of body experience but then I was wrenched back and buffeted by powerful waves of pleasure that seemed to have no end.

She had sealed me in once more but I was beyond caring as I rode out an orgasm the like of which I had never known. My whole body prickled as I stretched and writhed notwithstanding her added weight.

She must have been concerned because she dragged herself forward a little, clearing my face, as she collapsed full length on top of me.

We both lay heaving for breath and then I caught the distinct sound of sucking moisture as she slowly withdrew the vibrator.

My ears were ringing but I heard her whisper the word 'thankyou' as she placed a single tender kiss on my heated sex.

I froze, daring to hope, but she slipped away from me altogether and stood unsteadily.

"I need a drink...don't go away."

I did not appreciate her black humour but I was still powerless. She skipped from the room in a manner that suggested that she was in a hurry to get back but some minutes later she had still not returned.

I heard confused sounds from downstairs but, try as I might, I could make nothing of it. Doors were being opened and then I heard her footfalls on the stairs. Her tread was heavier suggesting that she had got dressed again and, for a split second, I felt a twinge of disappointment.

As she came through the door I craned my neck to look and gave an involuntary shriek.

Dressed in a well cut two-piece business suit, with a fashionable leather courier satchel draped over her shoulder, there was no doubt that I was looking at Rachel's mother. She had the same youthful features tempered by a short, easy maintenance, hairstyle.

We must have stared at each other for a space of seconds until the dull thump of her satchel falling to the floor broke the silence.

"Oh my God, she really did it."

She came closer, looking down at me in disbelief, and I felt myself redden with anger and embarrassment.

"You must be the teacher."

There was something wrong here. It was almost as though, having gotten over the initial shock, she had been expecting something like this.

As if reading my mind she began to explain.

"Rachel is not an easy young woman to get on with. She can be withdrawn, even from me, and she has difficulty with friendships.

You'll think me badly of me but she keeps a journal; she doesn't think that I know but I read it from time to time to try and tune into her wavelength; I'll never qualify for mother of the year but I do try and make an effort.

Last night she was up here for ages, writing away, and my curiosity got the better of me. I read it when she fell asleep.