Popularity Ch. 06

Joey was an only child. Did she secretly wish she had a sister? If she had a sister, did she fantasize about treating her like this? It was hard for me to ponder these questions as every time I hesitated in responding to Joey's demands, I got whipped across my buttocks with the belt again.

"Who is prettier?" she demanded. "You or me?"

By almost any standard you cared to use, I was more beautiful than my cousin, but I quickly learned that was not an acceptable answer. As long as I was subject to Joey's discipline, I would have to tell her that she was more beautiful than me.

By the time it was over, my poor innocent buttocks were throbbing in scalding pain, and I was emotionally exhausted.

"Don't move," Joey ordered. "You're positioned perfectly just the way you are."

I remained in position with my hands pressed against the wall and my buttocks indecently on display. My cousin took her time, leisurely examined my wounded backside and took prurient delight in what she saw.

"Your ass looks even sexier with all these colorful stripes. If it were up to me, you'd be whipped every day just to keep the color from fading."

I moaned as her hands proceeded to massage my punished bottom. The touch of her fingertips on my sore bottom was painful, but I found the pain to be delicious. Because of my sex slave training, pain and pleasure blurred and I had a difficult time separating the two.

"Oooooh ouch," I gasped as she stroked my skin and even pinched the most tender spots she could find. I twisted and squirmed in pain, but my sex throbbed wetly in response to the way my cousin was abusing me.

Joey stopped fondling my poor bottom long enough to reach into the pocket of her leather jacket and pull out a pair of handcuffs.

"Stand up straight and place your hands behind your back," Joey ordered.

I did as I was told. As a slave in the OPS, I always did as I was told. Obedience was automatic these days, however, obeying Joey felt wrong somehow. Joey wasn't an ambassador, a governor or a congresswoman. She was Uncle Raymond and Aunt Helen's daughter. It seemed wrong for her to have authority over me.

I felt the cold steel encircle my wrist and heard the click, click, click of the closing band until it was tight upon my skin. Then the process was repeated with my other wrist.

"That's better," Joey commented buoyantly. "Bad girls shouldn't be allowed to have too much freedom. Handcuffs will help keep you out of trouble."

I began to let out a sound of woeful victimhood, but the sound of my groaning was cut off when Joey clamped her mouth of mine and kissed me with carnal intensity.

Joey claimed that she was doing this to me out of a need for revenge, but her long, lingering kiss seemed charged with sexual excitement rather than anger. Her tongue probed my mouth with the sort of passion that I associated with feverish lust and sexual longing.

I squirmed and wriggled as the kiss created pleasant tingling sensations throughout my entire body. I sighed awkwardly, with Joey's mouth clamped over mine.

It felt wrong and awkward to be making out with a member of my own family, but I reminded myself that I was just a slave, and it wasn't my decision who did things with my naked body. I was naked, handcuffed and helpless. It was out of my control, and if I even tried to resist, I'd be cruelly punished.

Joey's lips molded to my mouth, and I enjoyed the sensations of her tongue exploring my tongue, her clothed body pressed against my naked body and her hands touching me everywhere.

When Joey finally pulled away, she had an exuberant smile on her face, and she was breathing heavily. She looked me up and down and said, "You kiss surprisingly well for a straight girl."

My brow furrowed in confusion at that. Is there a difference between straight women and gay women when it comes to kissing?

"Wait, are you saying that lesbians are somehow more skilled...?"

I wasn't allowed to finish asking my question. Joey silenced me by covering my mouth with hers again. She kissed me very insistently, causing the throbbing in my loins to intensity.

Joey's tongue explored my mouth, and her hands explored my naked body. I squirmed as she kissed me hungrily, with heated and unrestrained enthusiasm. I squirmed, and feelings of submissiveness surged as Joey took control. I was naked and bound as she plundered my mouth and fondled every inch of my naked body. The sensations of her black leather jacket brushing across my torso, her blue jeans pressing against my thighs, helped to remind me of my sublime nakedness and vulnerability, which only served to intensify my feelings of sexual excitement.

Joey could only savor my mouth and my tongue for so long. At some point she pulled away from my lips and I saw the look on her face. The resentment towards me was still there, but there was also a look of pure joy and libidinous passion on her face.

That look of joyful eagerness remained on her face as she reached for my nipples. I was naked and handcuffed. My nipples were exposed and defenseless. Joey could've done anything she wanted to them. I was almost certain that once she had them in her grasp, she was going to pinch them, twist them, hurt them in all kinds of wicked ways, but instead she rolled them between her thumbs and index fingers and the more she toyed with my nipples, the more I felt delicious tingling sensations spread across my body.

"You were always so aloof," she said as I moaned and trembled. Her fingers worked magic on my sensitive pink nubs.

"Where's your cool disdain now, Alex?" she asked. I couldn't find the words to answer her. I just thrust my chest out and squirmed my hips in a lewd and shameless manner.

"Legs apart, slave girl," Joey ordered. "Your cute pussy lips are supposed to always be on display."

I felt shameless and wanton, but I spread my legs apart for my cousin, leaving my plump, glistening pubic lips vulnerable and exposed.

"That's a good girl," she said as she slid one hand down my torso and insinuated it between my legs. I felt her fingers on my pudendum, gripping it, kneading my inflamed labia, eliciting a raw moan from my girlish lips.

"Aaaaahhhhh."

It took Joey only a few seconds to work my pubic lips apart and impale my vagina with her fingers. As she opened me up and thrust her fingers deep inside of me a delicious throbbing came from deep inside my sex. I sighed as her fingers probed deep.

"You're soaking wet" Joey commented as she fingered me, "This is the way I'm going to remember you from now on, as the naked slave girl, soaking wet when I felt her pussy."

I squirmed and panted and wagged my hips. Joey held onto my breast with one hand, occasionally brushing her thumb across my erect nipple and fucked me with the other hand. Eventually she located my G-spot and wave after agonizing wave of desire spread across my naked body.

The soft, wet pulse of my sex intensified as Joey's strong fingers worked their magic inside my pussy and then Joey insisted, "You're going to be my slut, my obedient, lesbian sex slave."

I was feverishly hot and close to cumming. My brain had shut down and I had been reduced to little more than a wet pussy, one frantic spasm following another.

"Yes, Mistress," I replied breathlessly. I said the words without thinking. I was operating on automatic pilot, allowing my libido to take over.

There was a stunned moment of silence as my cousin absorbed my words. And then she said, "Mistress?"

"Call me that again," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," I said, only then realizing the enormity of what I had said.

"Oh, God, I love it when you call me that."

My loins heated up and my nipples hardened to painful nubs as my cousin continued to fuck me. My impaled sex throbbed with hungry spasms. I was ordered to call her mistress again and again. She seemed enamored with the title and each time I said it she became more elated, and she worked her fingers inside of me with greater and greater passion.

"If I ever catch you calling me by my real name, you'll be punished. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," I replied in a tremulous voice.

The orgasm building inside me was getting stronger and stronger. It was becoming more and more difficult for me to concentrate on forming words. It seemed that the entirety of my being was focused on the exquisite sensations being created between my legs.

"It's so much fun watching you squirm like this," my cousin declared with enthusiasm, her fingers still deep inside my hungry sex, "I wish I could do this to you every day. It's a pity that the OPS will only let me do this two days out of the year."

My breath was coming in short, desperate gasps and my brain's ability to form words was limited, but I still managed somehow to find a way to respond.

"Talk to my... handler," I said. "Maybe she can make an exception... for you to visit me... other times during the year."

My cousin gave me a dubious but hopeful look. I wasn't sure why I had just said that, but it dawned on me that it was the truth. Constance had the authority to bend the rules if she felt it would somehow be to her advantage. All Joey had to do was convince Constance that there would be a benefit to her being allowed more visits.

I continued to gasp, and my breasts continued to heave up and down as Joey's fingers were deep within my vagina, probing, prodding, stroking, filling me up. My pelvis writhed in shameless sympathy with the way she was raping me with her fingers.

"Ooooooohhhhhhh," I moaned wordlessly as her strong fingers brought me to a resounding, boisterous climax. I cried out in wanton, shameless release, but she continued to impale my sex and she brought me, panting and sweaty, to the brink of another orgasm.

Naked and shameful, I shuddered as the wanton pleasures of being impaled on strong, feminine fingers faded and I was left with just an empty and depleted feeling in my vulnerable sex.

"That was amazing," Joey said, staring at me intently. "Your facial expression and body language is so different when you're in the throes of orgasm. You look so humbled and defenseless, the exact opposite of the way I remember you."

I panted and nodded in mute agreement, not sure what I was agreeing to, but at that moment I would have agreed with anything.

Then she slowly withdrew her fingers from my wet sex. I whimpered at their absence. I felt so empty without her probing digits working their magic inside of me.

"Of course, if you're really a lesbian sex slave, that means they've taught you how to lick pussy, right?"

My head was reeling, and my brain struggled to comprehend her words. On my second or third try, I finally understood what she was saying, and I was able to formulate a response.

"Um, yes.... yes, mistress."

"Okay then," Joey responded. "Get on your knees, slave girl. You've got work to do."

My wrists were still bound behind my back, which made getting down on my knees awkward. It was a slow and cumbersome process and while I was doing that, Joey took off her boots, her blue jeans and her panties. By the time I was kneeling, she was naked from the waist down.

"You look adorable, all handcuffed and kneeling at my feet," my cousin said as she looked down on me. "All your arrogance is gone. You're just a submissive, subservient naked slave girl."

I nodded in agreement. She ordered me to call her mistress again and kiss her feet before I went to work on her pussy.

Kissing her feet while kneeling and handcuffed was more difficult than you might think. It was next to impossible to keep from falling over while in such an awkward pose and I had to spread my knees apart ridiculously wide to keep my balance.

"That's a good girl," Joey said encouragingly after I'd kissed her bare feet. "Now, raise your head up and lick my pink slit."

I pushed my face between her legs and licked dutifully at her glistening wet sex. Her labia were swollen, unfurled and a brilliant shade of pink. She gasped and jerked her hips at my touch.

"Oooooohh!"

Her thighs trembled, her hips swished, and she thrust her vulva in my face before yanking it away. Her lower body bounded around erratically as I ate her pussy. I would have preferred to have my hands free so I could hold onto her and press her Venus mound to my face, but that's life when you're a slave. When you're ordered to do tasks while bound, it may be difficult, but you go ahead and do it without complaining.

When she got her hips under control, I was able to work my tongue into the gap between her pubic lips and taste her juices.

"You're doing just fine," my cousin encouraged me as I licked her. "Somebody has taught you well. Keep...keep doing what you're doing."

Her voice was sultry and thick with desire. I wasn't used to thinking of her as a sexual being. I was used to thinking of Joey as Uncle Raymond and Aunt Helen's daughter. However, as she gyrated her hips, panted lustily, and I licked the sexual juices from her pussy, I knew I would never be able to think about her again without remembering how we shared this erotic lesbian experience.

My poor bottom still scalded from being whipped by her leather belt, the hard tile floor was brutal on my knees, the handcuffs were digging painfully into my wrists and my tongue ached from overexertion, but I kept lavishing attention on my cousin's pink slit, making her moan and tremble.

She grabbed my head as I circled her clit with my tongue. I gradually increased the pressure, and as I applied my tongue with greater urgency, her thighs tensed. She gasped, then moaned in appreciation.

And when I took her hard, swollen clitoris into my mouth, she shuddered, gasped lustily and grabbed onto the desk closest to her with one hand. Her legs trembled and she cried out inarticulately. Her orgasm went on for a long, long time.

I knelt there at her feet as she sighed heavily, and slowly her breathing returned to normal. Her wet pubes were still inches from my face, and I found myself admiring the pinkness of her pubic lips, the firmness of her thighs and the tautness of her abs.

I realized, belatedly, that I now felt a powerful, if still somewhat distressing, emotional connection to Joey. I had gone through some significant changes in the past four or five weeks, being forced into lesbian sex and discovering that I liked it. I didn't have any friends that I could talk to about these changes, but Joey was now part of my new life as a lesbian sex slave. Of course, we hadn't talked about it, but I felt she must understand at least part of what I was going through after what she and I had just experienced.

I was pulled out of my reverie when Joey reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out her phone, aimed it at me and said, "You look gorgeous all naked and on your knees like that. I need to get some photos of you before I do anything else."

I felt twice as naked and exposed as Joey took photos of me, and then she made my predicament even more mortifying as she ordered me to pose in certain ways.

"Tilt your head back. Pull your shoulders back, arch your spine and thrust your breasts forward. Spread your legs wide. No, wider than that! I want your pink, puffy pubic lips conspicuously on display!"

I was forced to pose like some sort of shameless slut, eager to attract the attention of perverts. It was humbling and humiliating, but also exciting in a dark, delicious sexual sort of way. I obediently posed for my cousin and involuntarily trembled, both frightened and excited to see what she would do to me next.