Paige-ing Rachel Ch. 02: Pulled Back In

"Can..." the girl stammered in a desperate tone.

"Yes, girl?" Paige said, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Can we please kiss again?" The words flowed rapidly out of Rachel's mouth like dam had burst from within her. She realized in that moment that being taken in Paige's arms and being kissed again by her was all she wanted. It had felt so good, so fulfilling last time that it hadn't mattered that they were both women, that Rachel had only ever been attracted to boys, that Paige had just violated her in some of the most twisted ways she could imagine. Rachel just knew how it had made her feel and in this new confusion, she just needed that reassuring feeling of Paige's warm body against her own, her lips against her mouth.

Paige grinned big and wide as she stepped back into Rachel's personal space once more. Her hand found Rachel's chin, tilting her head upwards as she leaned down, her breath hot against Rachel's lips. The girl's heart raced, a tumult of anticipation and nervous excitement pulsing through her veins. Paige hesitated, her lips hovering a mere hair's breadth away, and in that charged silence, Rachel could hear the pounding of her own heart.

Then, the kiss landed--an electric shock of sensation that jolted through Rachel's body. Paige's lips were firm yet yielding against hers, commanding but somehow tender in their dance. With a gentle tug on Rachel's bottom lip, Paige invited a deeper connection, and Rachel responded with an eagerness that startled her. Her hands reached up instinctively to clutch at Paige's shoulders, grounding herself in the reality of this woman who had so completely unraveled her understanding of herself.

As Paige deepened the kiss further, Rachel felt herself melting into it, the confusion and conflict that plagued her mind dissolving into the pure pleasure of the moment. Her knees weakened, and she relied on Paige's steadying presence as the older woman gripped her by the hips to remain upright. The kiss wasn't just an act of passion; it was a statement, a claim that seared into her very being.

Paige's mind was working overdrive as she kissed her new muse. She hadn't expected the girl to respond so enthusiastically so fast, and she knew that this advancement in the girl's boldness may lead to a rapid retreat once she understood what she was doing and what was really being done to her. This meant, Paige thought, that she'd need to push this girl to accept her new station fast and early before any realization set in. How could she escalate things from here?

Paige broke the kiss suddenly, causing a gasp of surprise from Rachel. A single strand of saliva connected their lips before Paige pulled back and broke it. "For that privilege, I think I'd like you to kiss somewhere else."

"Huh?!" Rachel said in a flustered, frustrated tone.

"On your knees, Fourteen. I want you to kiss somewhere else so you understand what I expect from the people I allow to kiss my mouth." Paige stated plainly as if this was an obvious next step in whatever intimate dance they were now engaged in together.

Cocking her head in confusion, the words of defiance and further questioning dying on her lips. She felt her knees buckle as she slid to the somewhat dusty linoleum floor. Her knees made contact with the cold, hard material, causing the hem of her skirt to flutter against it softly.

Grinning like the cat who caught the canary, Paige turned her back to the pretty young thing now kneeling before her. She presented her round posterior, encased in form-fitting denim that outlined the impressive curve of her cheeks and looked over her shoulder. "I'm sure you can figure out where I want your lips, Rachie."

The demeaning variation on her name sent a shiver down Rachel's spine along with the embarrassing order. Being called 'Rachie' by Paige felt like being marked, a sign of possession that both frightened and thrilled her. She hesitated for a heartbeat--an internal struggle between who she used to be and what Paige was molding her into now. But even as her mind screamed in protest, her body seemed to have its own agenda, moving of its own volition.

With a trembling breath that spoke volumes about her inner turmoil, Rachel inched forward on her knees toward Paige's waiting form. The scent of Paige's perfume mixed with the musk of anticipation filled her senses as she drew nearer.

Paige could feel the moment of submission without even looking; it radiated off the younger girl like heat from a flame. She pushed back slightly, encouraging Rachel's advance without words.

A moment later, Rachel's lips made contact with the patterned denim fabric covering Paige's ass, planting a tentative kiss right on the seam that ran between the impressive globes of her cheeks. It was both an act of subjugation and a signal of her crumbling resistance. The touch was light, a brush that belied the storm raging in Rachel's chest. Paige's hands found their way to the back of Rachel's head, her fingers threading through those wavy brown strands and gently but firmly guiding her to press closer. The denim was a barrier, yet it did little to shield Rachel from the intimacy of the act, from the dominion Paige was establishing over her.

Rachel's mind spun with the contradictory sensations of degradation and desire. The part of her that wanted to be the good girl, the focused soccer player who lived for the thrill of a clean win, was now overshadowed by a darker urge to please this woman who demanded her submission so effortlessly.

"There we go," Paige cooed, satisfaction dripping from her voice like honey. "That's how you show appreciation for what I'm giving you."

Rachel could hardly recognize her own actions as she pressed another kiss into the unyielding fabric, but this time with more force behind it. The girl who once would have stood tall and challenged such presumed and unearned authority over her was now obediently acquiescing to Paige's demands, surrendering to desires she couldn't understand but felt powerless to resist.

"You're learning quickly, my pet," Paige whispered with approval, the term sending another jolt through Rachel's already quivering frame. Rachel's compliance was not lost on Paige, who took mental notes on how to steer their future interactions. It would be essential to intertwine the humiliation with care, to make Rachel associate her submission with pleasure rather than degradation alone. The balance had to be perfect; too much harshness could break the spell and awaken Rachel's dormant defiance.

Paige stepped away, leaving Rachel feeling oddly bereft of her warmth. "Stand up," she commanded gently as she turned to face the kneeling girl again.

Like the strings of a marionette pulled by their puppeteer, Rachel obeyed. She rose to her feet, timid and questioning in her gaze, seeking approval in Paige's piercing blue eyes. There were raw, red marks on the edges of Rachel's lips from them rubbing against the rough denim of Paige's jeans. Paige took in that minor visual detail with great relish, a visual reminder of Rachel's growing submission to her that she couldn't even see for herself.

With one hand, Paige took Rachel's smaller hand in hers, and she played with the now slightly dust-soiled hem of Rachel's dress with the other.

"This is a good look for you." Paige stated as she smoothed the creases of the fabric between her fingers, asserting that even the smallest details of Rachel's appearance were under her control. "From our last encounter, I would have taken you for more the tomboy type."

"Um, usually I am." Rachel croaked.

"Mm, well maybe not anymore." Paige stated as if that was her decision to make.

"I want you to wear skirts more often," Paige said decisively. "And when we're together like this..." Her grip tightened ever so slightly on Rachel's hand. "...no panties. You'll be accessible and ready for me at all times. I'd hate to have to ruin a pair of undies you actually liked."

The words landed like a heavy stone in the pit of Rachel's stomach. Accessible. Ready. The vocabulary of ownership was clear, and it pulled at something primal deep within her. She should have been outraged, scandalized by such audacious demands, but instead, there was a silent surrender, an acceptance that she was falling deeper into Paige's web.

"In fact" Paige continued, her hand moving from the hem of the skirt to what lay under it, "let's see what you're working with under here now."

Rachel's breath hitched as Paige's fingers traced the edge of her thigh, venturing higher with deliberate slowness. It was a violation, a blatant disregard for her autonomy, and yet Rachel felt paralyzed by the sensation. The rush of air against her skin as her skirt was lifted sent a shiver up her spine. Paige's eyes glinted with triumph when she discovered the patterned lacy white panties Rachel had underneath.

"Oh Rachie, these are just precious," Paige said as she ran her finger over the material of the waistband. "Yes, we mustn't ruin these, that's for sure."

With that, Paige's fingers hooked into the panties, and in a single swift tugging motion, she slid them down Rachel's smooth thighs. Paige still held the skirt of Rachel's dress, revealing the younger woman's mound and pussy, adorned with downy trimmed pubic hair, to the empty room as her underwear now hung suspended between her knees.

Rachel let out a soft gasp in surprise at the sudden exposure as Paige slid to her knees for a moment and worked the girl's underwear down the rest of the length of her legs.

"Step out please." Paige said, her face at Rachel's crotch level. She made no attempt to hide that she was staring right at the girl's privates as Rachel stepped out of her underwear.

Paige popped back up and dangled the lacy white garment in front of Rachel's face before shoving it in her oversized bag. "I'll get these back to ya later Sweetcheeks. Right now though, I got business with these sweet cheeks."

Paige reached behind Rachel and started running her hand possessively up and down the bare rounded globes of her muscular ass, causing the girl to shiver again.

Rachel's skin buzzed with a mingling of trepidation and excitement. Every firm stroke of Paige's hand seemed to brand her, claiming her flesh as territory won. She could feel the heat radiating from Paige, an inferno that threatened to consume her will inch by inch. Her mind screamed at her to reclaim her dignity, to lash out against the invasion of her privacy, but her body remained rooted in place--receptive and yielding.

"Good girls don't hide their most delicious private areas from their mistresses," Paige murmured, her voice laced with dark promise as she stepped around the girl so she was standing behind her while her hands continued to touch and stroke her posterior. The authority in her words seemed to resonate within Rachel's core, a mantra that commanded complete and unwavering obedience. "and you may not know it yet, but that's what I am to you now."

Paige's fingers tiptoed along the crease where thigh met buttock, tracing unseen patterns that would linger long after their flesh ceased contact. Rachel felt the vulnerability of her bareness like a raw nerve, the absence of her panties a display of how real situation was becoming.

"Hmm, this is in my way." Paige mused, pulling at the light material of Rachel's dress. "Arms up, Fourteen!"

Rachel's heart pounded, her breath quickened, and without hesitation, her arms rose. It was as if the jersey number she had worn proudly on the soccer field had now become a submissive call-sign under Paige's dominion. She hated the idea of something so important to her being corrupted like this, and yet hearing Paige say it made her feel strangely whole. The dress slipped off with ease, the fabric whispering against her skin as it floated to the ground, leaving Rachel bare except for the matching white lace bra.

Paige gasped with pleasure as she took in the girl's backside, now revealed to her in all its glory with the flimsy barrier of the dress removed. "My goodness, Rachel. I'd almost forgotten, this really is one of the most perfect posteriors in existence."

Before Rachel could respond, she felt Paige's hands slide down the small of her back to cup her round, heavy cheeks.

The fullness of them fit into Paige's palms as if they were sculpted to be there--a matching set that belonged to her alone in this clandestine universe they'd woven together. Paige kneaded them with the expertise of a sculptor, each ripple of muscle and softness beneath Rachel's skin molding to her touch. "Soccer's done wonders for these, hasn't it? Strong, perfectly round, yet still so deliciously soft."

Rachel bit her lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as Paige's hands ventured further, exploring the crevasse between her cheeks. The taller woman's touch was firm and insistent, entitled but not unkind. Rachel found herself pushing back against the invading digits involuntarily, her body betraying any semblance of resistance she had mentally mustered.

"Objectifying. This woman is objectifying me." The thought occurred to Rachel abruptly, as if she had just found the right word for this treatment. It was confusing and arousing in how cheap and used it made Rachel feel. That, for all of her ambitions and accomplishments, Paige was valuing a physical asset of hers the most. What struck Rachel the most though, is that rather than be repulsed by the notion, the idea that someone like Paige liked her BECAUSE of this physical attribute she was proud of made her feel good, warm, and gratified deep down.

"Do you like that? How much I enjoy your perfect rear? How my hands feel on you?" Paige whispered into Rachel's ear from behind, sending a quiver down the expanse of Rachel's spine. Her breath hitched as she nodded mutely, unable to form words. "Words, Rachel. I want to hear you say it."

"I--I like it," Rachel stammered out, feeling the words of the admission felt sticky in her throat like honey--thick and sweet.

Paige's chuckle was a low purr that vibrated against Rachel's skin, causing goosebumps to erupt across her body. "You're going to learn to love it," Paige assured her with a confident arrogance that made Rachel's heart flutter with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Paige circled around to face Rachel again, a calculating smile playing on her lips. "Now that's much better, don't you think?" she purred, taking in Rachel's mostly naked form. "I want to see you like this often. Vulnerable. Available, for me."

Rachel could only nod mutely, feeling as if the fabric of her lace bra constricting around her chest with each shallow breath. Paige reached out, tracing the outline of the bra before pausing at the clasp between Rachel's shoulder blades, fingers teasing as if contemplating its removal.

"Mm on second thought, I think I'm going to leave this on while I fuck you. Won't that be naughty?" Paige said with a gleeful twinkle in her eye.

Rachel's eyes widened as the reality dawned on her. Of course, she had thought somewhere deep down that reconnecting with Paige would lead to a continuation of their past antics, yet she realized she'd been in some form of denial that she was about to engage in sexual acts again with another woman until Paige had just explicitly confirmed it. She'd said she was going to fuck her like it was a certainty.

Then, a realization hit Rachel and she grabbed at Paige's hand with a sudden desperation. "Paige, wait. You need to know..."

Paige looked at her with slight confusion. "What is it, Fourteen?"

"I'm uh, well if you're going to...fuck me..." Rachel stammered and winced at the vulgar word.

"It's not a question of if, but what is it?" Paige repeated her question with a little more concern in her voice.

"Well, it's just that, I'm actually still a virgin...in my front anyway," Rachel said, her face going beet red.

Paige burst out laughing in surprise. It was a rare moment when she was suddenly completely caught off guard. This whole time, she had assumed that the girl she followed down to the locker room must have already had some sexual experience when they first met. That had been why she had made sure to take Rachel's back door after the game, so that she could always have laid claim to that sexual milestone for the young woman. But now, the girl was admitting that she could have taken Paige's virginity through her pussy? Despite her tough seeming, capable exterior, this girl really was too innocent for her own good!

"Oh ha, Rachel. I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. You're just so, precious." Paige said, running her hand assuringly up Rachel's shoulder. "I appreciate you sharing that with me but not to worry, that's not the kind of fucking I'll be doing of you tonight."

"Oh, it isn't?" Rachel stammered.

"Nope, just what we know we're already so good at." Paige said with a wink before motioning towards Rachel's vagina. "I am glad to know that that is still there for the taking though."

"For the taking?" Rachel repeated.

"Yes, and when I do, it will be a special occasion indeed. I'm so glad I have another opportunity to make you a woman!" Paige said, with a girlish glee in her voice. "But one thing at a time, my dear."

With that, Paige moved towards the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom.

"I promise, I'm not JUST gonna fuck you in classrooms" said Paige as she looked around, reminding them of their previous encounter at Paige's school. "I did just think maybe for a reunion of sorts, it might be nice to remember our last time since that was where you really started getting into it, but I also figure you'd be more comfortable more on your turf this time around."

Rachel raised a skeptical eyebrow of her own. This woman really thought she was doing her a favor right now, didn't she?

Paige's confidence seemed to fill the room, shaping the air with its own tangible force. She very meticulously moved the devices and papers left on the teacher's desk to the opposite end from where Rachel stood in a neat little pile. Rachel watched, entranced and disoriented by the deliberate movements. Paige patted the now bare surface with a devilish grin.

"Now, this time I'm going to give you a choice. You want to be in my lap again, or maybe from behind?" Paige asked very matter-of-factly as she put her bag down and started pulling a few items out of it.

"Behind?" asked Rachel, not understanding the more experienced woman's question.

"Mhm, good choice. Why don't you assume the position then and I'll warm us up." said Paige again with a clinical coldness.

All too aware of her relative nudity, and the fact that she was in the ridiculous combination of only her bra and white heels, Rachel moved towards the edge of the desk, unsure what the position she was to assume was.

"Palms on the desk, bent over, Silverstein. Come on, you're a smart girl." Paige said.

Rachel complied, her movements robotic, as if she were on autopilot. She placed her hands flat against the cool surface of the desk and leaned forward, her body bending at the waist. Her heels clicked slightly as she positioned herself, reminding her oddly of her own athletic discipline. But this--this was a different kind of game, one where the rules were written by the confident woman behind her.

Paige moved with deliberate slowness, as if savoring every moment of Rachel's anticipation. She approached Rachel and placed a hand on the small of her back, a gesture both possessive and reassuring. "You know," she whispered into Rachel's ear, her breath hot against the girl's skin, "there's something so deliciously raw about you like this. Eager and open for me. You're a very good girl for me, Rachel Silverstein."

The words sent shivers down Rachel's spine. It was true--she was eager, her body responding to Paige's presence in spite of her mind's protests. But openness? That was something Rachel hadn't fully embraced yet--a surrender that seemed to demand more than just physical compliance.