Nearly a Promise

I'd spent an hour, maybe two, just sat on the end of my bed and staring, just staring, at the pill in my hand. It was such a little thing, one half pink and one half white, and I felt like a moron even for holding it as if it could be real. And yet Amber, my best friend, swore by it. She was a biochemist, one of those people who'll surely end up in newspapers for curing some disease you've never heard of, and she'd found her first cure already, so she said -- a cure for my virginity. She called it Kupri. The pill, synthesised at home in her lab that she definitely wasn't meant to have, was supposed to do something to my pheromones. It had, so she said, a near-magical effect on the chances of successfully "getting off" with pretty much anyone by altering the scent I gave off. Impossible to consciously notice but Viagra for the brain. Just about anyone who was near me would, with a bit of prompting, sleep with me. This, Amber said, was "nearly a promise."

And now I held it in my hand. Just staring at it, fresh from Amber's little lab, really wondering if I was going to try it. I was eighteen, brand new in the adult world and somehow even newer in the lesbian one, without a flick of experience. All I knew was that the girls on the Internet did things that the men just couldn't. And now I held something that could get me everything, deep down, I wanted. So Amber said. Was I really prepared to try this?

With a big gulp of water, I swallowed it.

I didn't feel any different. Not at all. But I supposed the difference would be felt by others, not me. If it worked at all. As if she had some strange intuition, my phone pinged with a text from Amber.

"Have you taken it?" she asked. There was no use lying.

"Yeah."

"Omg go try it out then!"

"But what do I even do now???" I felt a bit of panic creeping into me.

"Go find someone you like and ask them to fuck, obviously!" I stared at the screen.

"You can't possibly think I'm capable of that."

"Ah but here's the thing," said her reply "You just took Kupri. So now you ARE capable. Get out there bitch."

"Amber ffs." That's all I sent before I fell backwards onto the bed. My phone went off again and, tentatively, I checked it.

"I recommend you say something all-encompassing at first though," Amber had written. "Just to keep them in your snare. Like 'obey me' or whatever. I know it sounds daft but you want it to touch all bases straight away." I didn't answer. Just dropped my phone on the duvet and stared at the ceiling. Amber didn't text again -- perhaps she knew that I didn't need anymore prompting of my own.

After a while, nervously, I went to my window and glanced down at the busy street. It was some nondescript high street in Birmingham, nothing even remotely interesting about it, populated by betting shops and charity shops and a Subway on the corner. But I watched the people walking by, many of them fellow students, many lucky enough not to live above a twenty-four hour newsagents like me, and tried to imagine myself approaching one of them. And actually trying. Amber had already warned me that the effects only lasted around six hours. I didn't have all day.

Figuring that just going outside couldn't hurt, I went out onto the street, crossed the road, and stood near the bus stop, looking around and trying to see if anyone looked at me in a way that implied the pheromones were working. Look at me saying this science stuff as if it made even the remotest bit of sense. Eventually, I noticed a woman standing beside the bus timetable, dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans. She had her back to me and, just for this moment, was alone, so any floundering attempts on my part might not be totally humiliating. Deciding that I'd just try to see what would happen and, if it all went to shit, I could run away, I approached.

"Hey," I said quickly, and she looked over her shoulder at me -- she had short, cropped brown hair, glasses, a face awash with freckles, and red, made up lips.

"Hi..." she said slowly, regarding me, in an American accent that managed to be bouncy even in this moment of nervous confusion. "Can I help-"

"Obey me."

"Okay." What?! No way. She couldn't have been serious. It was a joke she was playing along with. And yet something about it seemed real. I could have laughed but I was dying from nerves. Seconds passed in silence. This girl just stood there, watching me patiently, and somehow from her eyes I knew that some little spell of the mind was taking root over her. I had to push on. See what happened.

"Tell..." I swallowed. "Tell me your name."

"Cheryl Black," she replied, and I regretting my wording -- surely I could ask instead of order.

"Are you American? I noticed your accent."

"Belgian-American," she replied. "I went to an International School in Brussels before I came here. My mom's from Missouri and my dad's Belgian."

"Okay," I said, quickly, and a cold silence permeated. A bus -- not one for this stop -- rumbled by, and I looked her up and down, unable to hide my shaking, trying to avoid her eyes. They almost looked intrigued.

"So what is it you want?" she asked.

"Sorry?" I was surprised -- somehow I never expected her to initiate anything.

"You said to obey you." She gave me a quizzical look. "How do you want me to obey you?"

"Oh," I said. "Forget that. No, don't, I didn't mean to say that. I don't know if 'obey' is the right word. It's too forceful. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

"If you'd like me to do something then I'd like to do it too," she replied.

"Are you sure about that?" She nodded, smiling -- she had a great smile. "Okay, well, it's just..." She cocked her head. "You're really pretty, is all."

"Aw, thank you," she replied, sounding genuine, grinning brightly -- her eyes crinkled and she laughed. She seemed touched.

"And I'd really like to, you know..."

"Fuck me?" She said it so lightly. My heart pounded.

"No," I said, quickly. "I mean... maybe. But, first, maybe... maybe we could just kiss?"

"Sure," she said, brightly, and she took a step towards me. My stomach melted in an instant.

"No, not here," I said as fast as I could -- she almost looked disappointed. "That's my bedroom." I pointed up, towards my window above the newsagents, looking down on us. Cheryl followed my finger.

"Oh, okay, you wanna go there instead and kiss me?" she asked -- she didn't move yet, awaiting my confirmation, perhaps. I nodded quickly.

"If it's okay with you."

"Of course it is -- let's go." To my surprise, she took my hand, which must have been sweating dreadfully, and we walked together back down the road, crossed at the lights, and went for the door. Her hand was soft and I held it tightly.

"You don't have anywhere important to go, do you?" I asked suddenly. "If you do, you don't have to come."

"I was going to the library to revise," Cheryl replied. "Would you rather I did that?"

"No, I... do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?"

"Nope," she said, and her grin returned. "You're very sweet -- trying to find reasons not to kiss me."

"Is that what I'm doing?" I asked -- I inserted my key and the door opened. I let go of Cheryl's hand lest we be spotted.

"I think so," she replied.

We were, shortly, in my room, sweat trickling down my spine. Cheryl put her bag on my bed and turned to me, reaching for my hips, seemingly expecting us to start at once.

"Stop," I said immediately, and she did. Be brave, I told myself. This is your big chance. "Um... close your eyes. Don't say a word. Don't even pay attention to your surroundings. Become completely lucid." Cheryl did as I said -- her eyes fluttered shut and she stood there, stock still, silent and, as far as I could tell, lost to the world. These orders weren't given so she wouldn't know what I did to her -- they were given so she wouldn't know what I did to myself. For I turned and, almost tearful from stress, sank into a panic.

"Oh God," I mumbled, "what am I doing? I can't do this. This is insane. I can't even be sure this is consensual." I turned back to Cheryl -- she still stood there, eyes closed, patient as the ocean. She might have stayed there for all eternity if I didn't tell her to stop. "But..." I stepped towards her, got close to her pretty face, stared at her shuttered eyes, felt the light breaths from her nose. "I didn't drug you. Or hypnotise you. I didn't do anything -- I asked you to come and you came. I said what I wanted and you want it too. That's okay. Surely it's okay? Surely?" Still this stranger stood in the middle of my bedroom, unanswering, and still I fretted, until...

"Okay," I said, quietly. "Cheryl. Um... disregard my previous order?" Would that get her out -- it did. Her eyes opened and she looked at me, smiling lightly.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Do you want this?" I asked back. She almost looked confused.

"I'm in your bedroom."

"But why are you in my bedroom?"

"Because you asked me to."

"But do you want to do it?"

"Yes, of course," she laughed. "Bit of a silly question."

"Yes... yes, I guess it is." My eyes narrowed. Amber had told me it made you more likely to want to fuck me. But it seemed like it really caught you in a lasso that made you obey just about any command you were given. The military might soon be interested. "What if I told you to jump out the window? Would you do it?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you ask me." Her smile seemed to flicker. "Now, are you gonna kiss me, or what?"

"Stop talking and... and be infinitely patient," I snapped. She obeyed. Her big brown eyes regarded me -- her face was straight, neutral, patient as ordered. "Okay... okay, here goes. Kiss me." Without a word, but with a smile, Cheryl stepped forward, took me by the hips, and pulled me against her -- I almost squeaked in surprise at her strength before her lips landed on mine and nothing could escape. We kissed softly, tentatively, like she was figuring me out as I replied almost timidly, her movements adapting to my slowness. It wasn't my first kiss but it felt like how a first kiss should. Her lipstick was sticky and the vague taste of cherry invaded my mouth. Very gradually, I let our pace pick up, she leading, me trying to catch up, and I felt our wet tongues play with each other, almost coming as a surprise, as if I hadn't been in control of my own. A mumble of enjoyment growled from Cheryl's throat -- her hands tightened on my hips and mine, until now unsure where to go, went to hers, feeling hipbones through her jeans' denim. My heart was throwing a rave in my chest. Her tongue pressed against mine, almost challenging it, like a territorial animal, and I fought back, until an alien need to have the upper hand became too strong and I bit tightly on Cheryl's soft bottom lip.

"Ahh," she squeaked -- with a quick opening of my eyes, I saw that hers were still closed, as she tried to slowly pull away from my grip, but I wouldn't let her. Her hands tightened on my hips until she gave in, no longer pulling away, sinking back into the kiss, her tongue playing with my lip as I let go of hers in reward. Breathlessly, almost suddenly, I pulled away.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," I said, quickly, and even Cheryl looked flustered.

"That was really good," she cooed. "You're a great kisser."

"Really?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"Definitely." I rested my forehead against hers, trying to catch my breath, and she did the same, her hands leaving my hips as her arms instead formed a loose loop around my neck.

"Thank you for this," I said, quietly. "It was just what I needed."

"Is that all you need?" Cheryl asked, and I pulled my head from hers -- she watched me expectantly. "You're sure there's nothing else you want?"

"What..." I swallowed. "Alright," I said, trying not to choke on the words, "I want you to stand still, say nothing, don't even be aware of what's going on unless I tell you to do something. No matter what happens, don't do anything. Yeah?" She nodded and, again, her eyes fluttered closed.

Girding myself, slowly, I sank to my knees, so Cheryl's jean-covered groin was right in front of me. My hands took her waist, steadying myself, before I reached for the hem of her blouse and lifted it, slowly, to expose her pale, slightly toned tummy. Her belly button was sunken and light and cute, like a dimple, and her jeans tight, their very top now on show.

"Hold your shirt like this," I mumbled, my mouth dry, and Cheryl silently obeyed -- her hands came down and she kept her shirt held just above her belly button. Trying to steady my own hands, and failing, I went for the bronze top button of her jeans and unhooked it. Her jeans seemed slightly looser around her waist -- I then tugged down the fly, which squeaked as it went, before reaching beneath her jeans at the hips and pulling them down her legs. They came to her knees and then, suddenly, there Cheryl stood, still and obedient, in tight black knickers, delicate looking lace along the waistband, her legs tightly together yet with a thin gap still between her thighs. I stared for I don't know how long, my hands on Cheryl's bared legs, imagining her putting her underwear on this morning, having no idea that I'd get to see it. The need couldn't be held back any longer -- with a comically, deep breath, I hooked my fingers beneath her underwear's waistband and peeled them down her legs. Now I stared at her bared pussy, pink and tight and shaved with fresh stubble, and felt hot amazement at my luck. I had to fight the urge to dive for my phone and let Amber know that, well, I was never going to doubt her again.

"Okay..." I whispered, looking up at Cheryl, whose eyes were still closed. "Okay, Cheryl, I want you to wake up, and then I'm going to eat your pussy. If that's okay." Her eyes opened and she looked down at me, her face suddenly shifting to an anticipated, excited look, which seemed so genuine that it must have been.

"You like what you see?" she teased.

"I do," I said quickly, breathlessly. Already, it seemed her lips were growing damp, her knees pressing together, her black underwear held suspended at her knees just above where her jeans had fallen to. One of Cheryl's hands left her shirt so she could bite a finger.

"Stop staring and do it," she said, "it's embarrassing." I obeyed -- I brought my tongue to her lips and played, a warm, rich honey taste filling my mouth, and at once Cheryl's knees buckled. My tongue slid inside her, my hands went from her legs to her bared ass, gripping both cheeks so tightly she squeaked, pulling her into my face. Her thighs pressed against either side of me, squeezing me, trying to hold me in place too, and she let go of her shirt to hold the back of my head and push it into her. Cheryl's pussy grew wetter, juicier, and at that I knew this was real -- that there was no trickery and she really did want this. You can't hypnotise a pussy into getting wet -- a phrase which upon materialising in my brain nearly made me laugh out loud as I tickled her rough clit, almost sanding my tongue on her stubble, her wetness all over my lips and dripping off onto the carpet. I managed to look up, up past her top, to see her clasping a hand over her mouth to suppress her whining moans. I felt her clit almost quiver against my tongue and I tortured it, feeling the hints of a coming finish, tightening my grip on her ass.

"Hey," she whined, her voice buckling like her knees, "no fair," and in reply I adjusted my hands as my tongue danced against her clit, spreading her cheeks, and she almost yelped in surprise. "You're spreading my butt!" she whined, as if it was news, but I refused to adjust for I could sense, not feel but sense, the wave building inside her. Her breaths became shallower, shifted to moans, growing higher pitched and almost pleading in their repetition, her taste became sweeter, and then, suddenly and then all at once, I felt her climax against me, her hands pinning my face against her as her back arched and she cried out in delight. Slowly, I pulled away, admiring her glistening girlhood, her wetness sticky on my face, as Cheryl's breaths became laboured, bending forward, with my hands freeing her ass and gently taking her thighs. I looked up at her.

"Did you like that?" I asked.

"What do you think?" she replied, breathlessly, in her pretty yankee accent. "Oh my God, I came so hard, holy shit..." Slowly, I stood up, meeting her face, and I kissed her roughly, letting her taste herself on me, her tongue exploring my mouth with renewed eagerness until, to a sigh of disappointment, I pulled away. Her eyes had changed -- they burned with pleading.

"Do you wanna eat me out, now?" I asked.

"Please," she almost whimpered, and I stepped a few paces to the wall, against which I leant, only for a new fear to take over me. Someone was about to go down on me for the first time. This beautiful strange girl was about to eat me out in my bedroom. Was I ready? What if I was gross? What if I got it wrong? But, with her juice still sticky around my mouth, I'd kind of crossed the Rubicon already.

Cheryl almost fell to her knees, her jeans and black knickers bunched around them, crawling the few steps to me, and as she reached me I could look past her head and see the soft cheeks of her bared ass, tight with pink marks where I'd gripped them.

"Pull up your skirt," she insisted breathlessly, and I did so -- so this was how it felt to be seen. Her hands clasped my bared thighs, and I nearly whimpered at the sensation. A hand, seemingly without instruction from my brain, pinned itself to my mouth. "I love your panties," she sighed.

"Really?" I mumbled through my hand.

"Obviously, they're so cute." I looked down -- Cheryl was trailing a finger along the waistband, tickling me, and I twitched at the sensation. She looked up at me with a grin.

"You're teasing me."

"I wanna savour it," she replied. "I've never actually eaten pussy before, you know."

"Me either."

"Shut the fuck up!" Her eyes widened. "But you knew exactly what you were doing."

"Just lucky, then." Cheryl shook her head.

"Let's get these out the way," she sighed, slipping my underwear down my legs to land in a pile around my ankles, half-covering my trainers from view. "Oh my God," came a mumble. I felt her kiss my inner thigh, just inches from my quivering girlhood.

"This feels so weird," I whispered.

"Nice and shaved for me, I see," Cheryl whispered back.

"I just thought I'd try it," I answered -- without another word, Cheryl buried her face between my legs.

Dizzying pleasure rocketed from my groin and all through my body, as if following every vein, and my back arched, the back of my head hitting the wall. I whined, almost pleaded, as Cheryl gripped my plump thighs and held me in place, her tongue exploring me, and I tried as hard as I could to keep the screams in my lungs. I failed.

"I like that sound," I heard her whisper from between my legs, before she let go of my thighs and slipped two, then three fingers inside me. Everything went blurry as an orgasm took me completely. When I was back in the real world, I looked down at Cheryl.

"Please take off the rest of your clothes," I mumbled.

"Sure," she said, with a smile, withdrawing from between my legs to pull off her shirt. Her small breasts, contained in a lacy black bra, were unveiled soon after as the bra came off and lay strewn next to my bed. And then Cheryl, naked and perfect, was back between my legs and tongue-fucking me like I never knew a person could be tongue-fucked. I came, and came, and then I came again.

"Okay, okay, okay," I gasped, sinking down the wall and falling into a seated position in front of Cheryl. "Just give me one second. Just one tiny second."

"However many you need," she said with a grin, leaning in and kissing me warmly. I was relieved to find that I liked my own taste -- but maybe it being delivered on such a pretty girl's tongue helped a lot.