Intention and Design

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Xamphos
Xamphos
132 Followers

'A scheming whore miss.' Bernice hissed.

'Tell me more child. Tell me your intention and design.' Miss Jackson said. Her hands returning to stroke the burning flesh.

'I came here to fuck Miss. To be taken in any way I could. I'm a scheming bitch miss. A bitch in heat. I want to be a woman. I want to be taken like a woman. Ridden like a woman. Fucked like a woman. I've failed. So miserably failed. I ache like I've never ached before. I'll be touching myself all night.' Bernice cried as her breasts pressed against Miss Jackson's legs.

Two more slaps resounded on Bernice's buttocks, close to the start of her parted damp crevice.

'You know, you would be committing sin. In my school girls we were whipped for pleasuring themselves. We would wait watch them do it. Encourage them to do it. Then beat them within an inch of their sex.'

Bernice shuddered. She felt the stinging pain now was bad. She couldn't comprehend anything else. Yet the thought of it excited her. She felt Miss Jackson's hand gathering the back of her knickers. Pulling the edges tightly together till they were taut, pressing against her sex. They tightened again. Bernice felt the satin cut into her. Disappearing into her now wet furrow. Her blazing buttocks were bare.

Slap! Slap! She felt her buttocks quake with the impact. The shock waves spreading through her body. Each wave followed by a jolt from her clitoris, as her panties rubbed against her raised bud. She gasped with the shock of the impact, gasped again as her excited sex reacted.

Soothing hands settled on her throbbing cheeks. Cool hands, stroking the area she imagined to be flaming red. The taut wet gusset of her panties was eased to one side, exposing the crevice of buttocks, leading down to her wanton flaring sex. Despite the scalding ache from her tanned buttocks, she still quivered with delight as the first inquiring finger stroked through her pubic hair. Gratefully she offered up her vagina to the hand stroking inside and out of her panties. The pain palled as her hips moved against the controlling hand. She placed her own fingers inside her mouth, sucking on them for comfort. Her mouth echoing the movements of her sex.

Miss Jackson's hand fell onto her head. Stroking the thick black sweat matted hair.

'Is this nice girl?'

'Yes.' Bernice replied turning up her streaked face to smile at her punisher.

'Do you want me to fuck you, with my rigid fingers? Take you as a woman. Do you want to be a woman?'

'Yes.' Bernice was unquestioning in her reply. Her body was blossoming beneath her. Swelling beneath this woman's touch.

'Go and sit on the desk girl. I shall want some pleasure too.'

Reluctantly Bernice eased herself from the comfort of the woman's lap. She positioned herself on the smooth refreshing surface of the polished desk. It felt good against her aching thighs, and her slowly numbing bottom.

Miss Jackson stood up. Slipped the linen jacket from her shoulders and positioned herself in front of Bernice. Pressing forward she slid her body between the girl's thighs. Bernice sat staring forward uncertain of what to do. The manicured fingers ran from her shoulders, down the bra straps, sliding into the lace cups. Bernice's breasts sprang to life, as the fingers toyed with her fresh pink nipples.

'Undress me girl. Touch me. Explore me. The way I have explored you.'

Miss Jackson's blue eyes had softened. The words were still a command. Bernice had never undressed a woman before. Never felt the excitement of another's skin. Her hand shook as she undid the blouse. Miss Jackson helped her drawing the thin jersey away. Her fine bone frame was held by a tightly clasped pink basque. The petite rounded breasts drawn apart by the deep channelling of wire and silk. Bernice's face was pressed into the wide valley of the woman's cleavage. Her lips touched the vibrant skin. Her face riding against the controlled rhythm of the woman's breathing.

Bernice intoxicated by the rich perfume of the woman's body, stroked her hands over the ridging of the basque feeling for the tender flesh inside. She felt her nipples harden. Miss Jackson rolling them freeing them from her bra. Bernice sank her face into the woman's breasts. Abandoning all control. She kissed, she licked the tethered flesh, pulling the woman closer to her. Feeling the warmth of the body envelop her.

Miss Jackson's lips fell to her ear.

'Take off my skirt.'

Bernice's fingers raced to find the fastening. Stripping the garment to the floor. Beneath the basque lay flesh coloured stockings, sheer pink silk panties, just covering Miss Jackson's dark triangle. Without instruction her fingers darted between the thighs, seeking the warmth inside. Miss Jackson pushed her away. Lay her back against the cold of the desk. With one hand stretching the nipples of Bernice's breasts, her other pushed the short skirt above her panties.

Miss Jackson's hands parted the willing thighs. Stroked the satin covering Bernice's vagina. Increasing the pressure the fingers massaged the labia lips, dampening them, making them flower wider. Bernice flexed her hips against the hand. Her eyes closed with the intense pleasure. A kiss parted her mouth. Miss Jackson.s tongue pressed inside. The twin pressure drove all sense of shame from Bernice's young mind. She was encased in the pleasure. She was a bitch, a dyke, she didn't care. No boy had ever done this for her. She wondered if a man would.

'What beautiful virgin panties these are. So pure. Unstained. Come in them for me. Soak them with your scent. Dirty them little girl. Dirty them my darling bitch.' Miss Jackson said kneeling over her. Her engorged nipples dangling over Bernice's face. Bernice touched them. Felt them harden in her mouth. It was like creating life. Sex, became a living beast roaming between their bodies.

Bernice pressed harder against the massaging hand. She spread her legs, her sex, tempting the fingers inside of her. Inside they pressed against the gusset, teasing her pleading clitoris.

'Finger me. Fuck me.' She pleaded.

'I want to see you come girl. I want to feel your orgasm possess your body. I want you to drench my hand and your darling white panties.' Miss Jackson said looking down on Bernice, placing her body out of reach. The blue eyes flickered over her. Studying her face, her arching body.

The fingers slipped beneath the cloth guard, found her pulsing clitoris. One, two, three fingers slipped inside, lifting her from the table each time they drove. Harder, faster, they stroked into her, playing against her vaginal walls. There was no gentle ripple, no lapping wave of warmth spreading from her groin. This was a storm racking her body, tossing her about on the flexing hand. Bernice slammed her hands onto the table. Beating the rhythm of each shockwave as it shot through her body. Her body felt like a lake, drained to a pool, in a series of percussive shocks.

She came and she came. The room spinning with the bliss. Sapped of life Bernice lay stricken. She felt her panties being pulled away. Felt a body slide over hers. Coarse hair grazed her mouth, the unmistakeable smell of piss and female musk covered her face. She felt the button of the erect clitoris close to her. Instinctively her tongue lassoed it. The wet sex filled her mouth as she felt her own, being reawakened by a pressuring tongue.

Bernice realised she had never known what orgasm was. She had never before felt so consumed. Locked into the embrace of this older woman, she had driven and been driven into an experience she had never previously known. Her hips bucked and slapped against the desk. She arched her body forcing her sex against the woman's mouth. In the musky shadow of the woman's vagina, her tongue and fingers worked. Suffocating against the grinding rhythm working against her face.

She tasted the thickening rush of orgasm, as the fluids coated her tongue and throat. She felt the waves roll through her own body. Swelling till she felt she would explode. As the first crest swept her away, Bernice pressed the woman's sex against her mouth. Clinging to the frantic bucking response, of the wildly gyrating arse. Like a limpet in a storm she clung to the face of Miss Jackson's orgasm. Shouting, calling, crying their delight above the roar of each other's raging pleasure.

When finally they lay spent on the floor. All energy drained from each. Bernice found comfort wrapped against Miss Jackson's body. Delighted in the glow of the woman's skin. The fine blush of perspiration, mixed with the musk of sex and the body's oils. It wasn't love she clung to. It was a shared faith, the experience of another's body. A belief one could pleasure another, in the pleasure find satisfaction of another form. She knew the difference between being a girl and being now a woman. She knew now what hunger was. How it felt to have the need satiated.

The door opened. Andrew entered softly. Miss Jackson reached up, and took his hand.

'I've taught her how a woman should feel. She knows when a touch is right. She's ripe now like summer fruit. She is yours. Teach her how to be loved by a man.'

Miss Jackson slipped to her side. Gently stroking her glowing body. Andrew's lips were soft and tender. His hands firm, and cool. He was everything she had dreamed he would be. She was his little girl no more.

Xamphos
Xamphos
132 Followers
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5 Comments
webmiserwebmiserabout 2 years ago

When writing lesbian erotica you cannot assume bisexuality on the part of the reader.

What I mean is, you can’t have a lesbian dominated story ending heterosexual. It doesn’t work for people who only like lesbian stories. The ending destroyed the story which, let’s face it, wasn’t great to begin with.

CliterateDykeCliterateDykeabout 6 years ago
Violent Misogynistic Rape

This rape & violdnce story is totally filthy & dehumanizing. It violates Literotica rules for submission & has been reportrd. It is misogynistic & completely dehumanizing. Whayever idiot wjo cleated this for picayion should be replaced.

AnonymousAnonymousover 10 years ago
Wow.

This was amazingly hot. It could use an editor's touch, but the writing is good and the descriptions are wonderfully vivid.

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