Sisterhood - Initiation Ch. 13

Leah followed, stepping gingerly through the pools of cool water in the main bathroom and then out into the dressing room. Though she remembered the air being warm and close before, after the bath it now felt relatively cool against her damp skin. The pain she had felt in her behind was quickly fading to a soothing, faint soreness. She could feel the muscles of her insides, the deeper ones over which she had no conscious control, settling into place about the plug. It was a curious sensation, but not an unpleasant one.

Leah focused on getting dry. She toweled her hair and her neck more vigorously, turned her head to pat her face dry against the inside of the hood, and then slipped the gown off to use it to rub the rest of her body, from the shoulders downward until she stooped to swipe dry each leg.

Lena meanwhile had taken her arms out of the gown to let it hang from her head by the hood. She reached into one of the open drawers of the chest of clothes. "Maybe a bra," she wondered to herself, holding one up to her chest. "Yes, why not?" she pressed the lacy black cups up against her breasts and eyed herself in the mirror of the cupboard door, turning her torso from side to side. She smiled and slid the straps on over her arms then reached behind her back to clasp the bra closed.

Leah was eager to get going. Not wanting to seem clingy or to be waiting to be told what to do, she cast her dressing gown off onto the back of a chair and leaned onto the dressing table at which she had removed her smudged eyeliner just before bathing. She took out the same pencil and busied herself re-applying it. As she bent over, she felt a brief twinge of soreness from her butthole, a strangely comforting reminder of her encounter with Lena in the pool.

Leah stepped back and took a look at her face in the mirror. The eyeliner looked good. Dark and striking. And for the first time that evening, she felt genuinely, unreservedly pleased with how she looked. It seemed that her skin glowed with a new, clean vitality. There was a pleasing, sultry smirk of self-assurance on her lips, and her hair, already drying in the warm air of the room, hung in luxurious thick waves at her neck.

"Look okay?" Leah asked, straightening up and turning to face Lena.

Lena had shed her dressing gown and had pinned up her fine hair in a neat bun. She was standing in a pair of slender black high-heeled shoes, each held to the ankle by a single silver-buckled strap. Apart from the shoes and the bra, she was still naked. And her dick, which had only moments before hung soft and swaying between her legs, was once again taut and stiff, sticking outwards as if pointing at Leah.

"Oh," Leah murmured, "You're... hard. Again." Lena's half-nakedness was strangely incongruous, her upper torso and her feet both encased in clothing and a long midsection of her body exposed. The slender womanly curve of her figure was broken suddenly by her long, jutting dick, her balls clasped tight and heavy at its base. It was a powerful, inviting sight, and Leah felt her pussy give a single, sweet throb.

"You like getting girls hard?" Lena grinned at her, "It's satisfying, isn't it?"

"Yes," Leah gulped. She stepped forward, put her hand tenderly on Lena's outstretched dick and stroked it. Leah scried her memory for something, a word she had heard earlier. What had Yvonne said? "So... shrqah?" she ventured, trying hard to reproduce the guttural, throat-constricting sound that had seemed to come so easily to Yvonne.

Lena laughed, and put her hand to Leah's cheek, "Was it Annika taught you that?"

"Yvonne," Leah replied, "Shouldn't she have?"

"No, no, it's good," Lena responded quickly, "If you're going to stay, you might as well learn some of our words."

"There's a language?" Leah asked. She was still lightly stroking the side of Lena's dick.

"Yes, there is," Lena tweaked Leah's cheek affectionately, "We don't actually use it for everyday speech, but most Sisterhood girls learn it at some point. They have to, to read the old texts."

"Old texts?" Leah tickled Lena's shaft with the tips of her fingers and felt it twitch and stiffen a little against the palm of her hand.

"In the library," Lena took her hand from Leah's cheek and waved it towards the wall, perhaps indicating the direction in which the library lay. "But no shrqah for this little ka'ini just now," Lena winked. Though the first word was clearly the same one Yvonne had used, Lena's pronunciation was somehow softer, simpler, in her deeper voice. "But I look forward to enjoying you at greater length later," Lena went on, "A whole day in bed, just fucking, and sleeping, then fucking some more."

"Oh," Leah gave a faint, throaty groan as her pussy throbbed again with heat at the thought, "Yes please."

"Now," Lena reached down and gently pulled Leah's hand aside by the wrist, "Would you perhaps let me dress you up?"

Leah was caught in the middle of a reverie. There had been another new word that Lena had spoken just a moment ago, but it was already slipping from Leah's memory. She was trying to recall how it had sounded but couldn't remember even where in her phrase Lena had used it. "I think, um, my clothes are still in the bedroom."

Lena looked over at the door, then at the wardrobe, then finally she looked Leah's naked body up and down, "I mean would you let me dress you up in something new."

"Something else to put inside me?" Leah giggled, "You don't want me to wear a gag or a blindfold or something, do you?"

Lena laughed, a loud, hearty laugh of genuine amusement. "No, just a dress. Dressing up is fun. It's something some girls like to do,"

"Then please," Leah smiled, "Dress me up however you like."

Lena spun on her heels and bounded gracefully over to the wardrobe. "You looked absolutely stunning in that last dress, of course," she flung open both doors to reveal the full array of dresses and various other pieces of fabric hanging inside, "But it's nice to change. Yvonne and I have slightly different tastes, I guess."

Leah reached between her legs and stroked idly at the slim strip of trim hair above her pussy. It felt soft, a little ticklish against her fingers. With her other arm she cradled her breasts as she watched Lena rifle through the dresses, sliding coat hangers briskly from one end of the rail to the other. "Are you looking for something in particular?" Leah wondered.

Lena examined one dress, pulling the material out to drape it over her arm, then slid it away, unsatisfied, "I've been imagining you in something. An old dress that... a friend of mine used to wear. I think it would suit you very nicely. More of a classic. Elegant but revealing, you know, to show you off, but still leave something to the imagination. Get the girls all worked up and keen to fuck you."

"Oh right," Leah walked over to join Lena, and see what dress she was looking at next.

"It's been such a long time," Lena draped another length of fabric across her forearm and examined it for a moment, "I've almost forgotten what color it was exactly. Sort of gray, I think, but not drab gray, maybe with a hint of color."

"Like that one?" Leah peered into the wardrobe and pointed at a ruffle of grayish material.

"Yes!" Lena exclaimed gleefully, pulling it from the rack. She held it up against Leah's body, "This is it. What do you think?"

Leah looked down. She smoothed the dress over her front. It felt light and crisp, like freshly-washed linen. The cut of the dress put Leah in mind of an eighteenth-century romance, shy debutantes dancing in the salons of grand houses. The dress was of two parts, divided by a plaited beige cord embroidered into the material just below the bust. Above it was a low-cut sleeveless top with broad shoulder straps. It looked as though the fit would be quite tight. Below the bust was a long, ruffled sheet of material that hung as far as Leah's feet. At its side was a tangle of strings and tassels. The color was either a tinted gray or a very faded, washed-out blue. "Slate blue, maybe," Leah mused.

"Slate blue is exactly right," Lena replied gaily, "You are a woman of refined tastes."

"Oh," Leah giggled bashfully, "I guess I like dressing up too."

"Come," Lena pulled the dress from Leah's hands and beckoned her forward, "Lift up your arms."

Leah complied and raised her arms above her head. Lena gathered up the lower part of the dress and slipped the plush ring of material over Leah's arms to pull it down over her head and shoulders. Leah reached behind her neck to free her hair, then tugged the top part over her chest, twisting it into place. It was a little tighter even than she had anticipated, and she struggled briefly to get the high chest band over her breasts and down underneath them. Once in place, she lifted and squashed her breasts into position. Unlike the top that she had worn before, the upper part of the dress did not clasp her breasts tightly to her body. Though the cord below the bust held them up high, they perched rather heavily over it. The snug fit of the rest of the top around her broad back pressed her breasts together into a pleasing cleavage in the low neckline, but as she turned to look at herself in the mirror of the wardrobe, she felt her chest swing to one side and then back, merely contained rather than held.

Despite her slight concern that her chest might spill out of it, Leah was very pleased with the dress. She felt elegant. It seemed even that she looked somehow taller. "I like it very much."

"Good," Lena smiled enthusiastically, "Here, let me lace you up." She took Leah by the shoulders and turned her to one side. Her fingers began fiddling at the side of the dress, pulling and straightening at the knotted strings.

"Oh. I see," Leah noticed what she had not seen before, that the side of the dress was completely open, all the way up to the bust. The plaited material of the lower part hung from the bust cord as a single sheet, wrapping all the way around Leah's body to meet at her left side. Where the material met, there were two opposing rows of narrow brass rings at the seam, all the way down to the thigh. Through these were threaded two intertwined strings like the laces of a shoe, each ending in a fluffy tassel.

Lena was busy untangling and arranging the strings into a neat crisscross pattern down Leah's flank. "Hup," she pulled on the tassels to tighten the side of the dress, "That okay? Not too tight?"

Leah saw that from the bottom of the bust down to her waist, the side of the dress was almost closed, only a centimeter or two of skin showing under the crisscrosses of lace. But beginning at the top of her hips and down the side of her thigh, the gap widened and there was a good palm's width of her hip and her thigh on display. The fit across her stomach and backside was snug, the material taut, pressing her buttocks together and making her feel a little more firmly the metal ring of the plug clasped between them. "No," she replied, "Feels okay. I really like it."

"Nice, isn't it?" Lena grinned, turning Leah around by the shoulders, first to face her, then to look at her from the back, "Classy. Elegant but still subtly..."

Leah waited for the end of the sentence. When it didn't come, she ventured, "Whorish?"

"Well, yes," Lena giggled. She put her arms around Leah's body from behind and held her tightly, running her hands over Leah's breasts and then one hand down her side, brushing the bare skin at the seam of the dress.

"Well I'm your whore," Leah purred contentedly, feeling kisses at her neck and the faintly pulsing hardness of Lena's dick pressing into the small of her back.

"So," Lena pulled away and spun Leah round once more to face her, "Stand on your tiptoes."

Leah looked down at her feet. The hem of the dress reached almost exactly to the floor, just touching it, and not quite covering her toes. She gripped the open door of the wardrobe to hold herself steady and raised herself up onto the tips of her feet. "You think it's too long?" she asked.

"No, looks just about right," Lena replied, "You should be fine once you have your heels on. Now, go fetch them, and your underwear."

Leah looked over at the door. She became aware of the sound of muffled cries, punctuated by grunted utterances, the words indiscernible. "Should you...?" she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to ask.

Lena, too, was looking at the door. She turned back to Leah, and hesitated, seeming to be torn, then to resolve, "I will of course accompany you back down to the great hall. Annika will be waiting."

Without especially thinking about it, Leah had been assuming that she and Lena would leave together. But it dawned on her suddenly that it might seem a little selfish to insist Lena come with her. After all, Lena had done the work of seducing Emmie herself, and was still in need of a date. And it was Yvonne who was supposed to be looking after Leah. Leah fancied she saw a hint of regret on Lena's face for a moment, and heard it in the flat intonation of her words. Mindful of her desire to please, to do whatever Lena wanted her to, Leah interjected hurriedly, "Oh, you should... Maybe you should stay here. You need to finish, um, Emmie's initiation."

"Well..." Lena lingered on the word, perhaps the faintest of excited smiles at the corner of her mouth, "I am somewhat wary of leaving Yvonne on her own with a new girl in my apartments."

Leah quashed the incipient swell of jealousy inside her and treated Lena to what she hoped was a suggestive smile, "She has nice tits, doesn't she?"

"Hah! I suppose she does," Lena laughed, disarmed. She reached round and planted a playful, hard slap on Leah's behind, "But I'm more of an ass girl, really."

"Well," Leah went on, eager to make Lena laugh again, "My big fat good-girly ass will be waiting patiently for you downstairs."

"Oh," Lena giggled, looking a little sheepish, "I did say that, didn't I?"

"No need to apologize," Leah smiled.

Lena looked Leah in the eyes, and for a moment Leah wondered whether she might be about to kiss her again, but she seemed to pull herself up and said simply, "Well, if you really don't mind. Making your way back down on your own, I mean. Annika will most probably be in the bar area."

"On my own?" Leah asked, trying not to sound worried.

"I think," Lena glanced again at the door, "Yvonne might not quite be in a fit state to accompany you yet." The cries from the next room had gotten a little louder and more vigorous.

"Oh, that's fine," said Leah hurriedly, "It'll be nice to just take a quiet walk. Give me a chance to think a bit."

"Yes, you can explore a little if you like," said Lena, "But be careful not to get lost. It's a big house. Think about what we were talking about. Whether that's really what you want."

Leah said nothing, smiled, and leaned forward to plant a single brief kiss on Lena's cheek. She lingered momentarily, "See you soon."

"See you soon," Lena echoed. She squeezed Leah's hand.

Leah turned, let Lena's hand go, and walked to the door, resolving not to look back. She opened it and tiptoed hurriedly into the next room. She padded over to the foot of the bed to retrieve her shoes from where she had cast them off. The curtains around the bed had been drawn. They, and the bed itself, were shaking irregularly, each time following the loud clap of two bare bodies colliding. The yelping sound that she had heard was obviously Emmie's voice. She was clearly more of a whimperer than a moaner, her shrill cries like the mewling of a cat and not quite distinguishable as expressions of pleasure or of protest.

Leah stooped to pull on her shoes, steadying herself by taking hold of one of the bedposts with one hand while she buckled the straps of each shoe closed with the other. She stood up straight and flexed her toes to settle them into the tight shoes. With the several centimeters' extra height at the heel, the hem of the dress hung clear of the floor and didn't look as though it would catch as she walked.

Leah was warming to the idea of taking a walk through the house on her own. Freshly bathed, with the afterglow of her orgasm still burning faintly in her body, and the memory of what Lena had done to her, she felt bolder, more confident. She trotted over to the dressing table as quietly as she could and took a quick look at herself in the mirror. She liked the way she looked in the long dress. As Lena had said, it was elegant, but still suggestive, clinging to her figure and baring a long, narrow flash of her skin at her side. Underneath, the firm press of the plug against her butthole was a thrilling private reminder of her new-found power to give pleasure.

Just next to her, still standing where it had been set down earlier, was the half-full bottle of rosé wine. Impulsively, Leah grasped it and took a deep swig. She felt daring, decadent, as the alcohol released a slow warm spread of relaxation through her body and down to her butthole, where it helped to dull the last fading twinge of discomfort.

There looked to be two or three more swigs' worth of wine left in the bottle, and Leah contemplated finishing it off, but decided against it. She felt already about as relaxed as she wanted to be, and she didn't fancy having to negotiate the stairs and the ballroom while a little tipsy and on high heels.

Gathering the resolve to set off, Leah remembered her thong. She saw it lying discarded on the carpet by the door, a tiny scrap of black. She walked briskly over and retrieved it, then wondered whether she should bother wearing it at all. She dithered, hitching up her dress, then letting it fall again, until she finally decided to slip it back on. It might be nice to still be wearing at least a token piece of underwear whenever she next removed her dress. Getting it on proved a little awkward. After a couple of standing attempts to get her foot between the right strings without snagging them on the heel of her shoes, she leaned back against the door and hitched her dress right up, bending each leg up in front of her to guide the thong on with two hands. As she pulled it up about her waist, she hesitated again, this time wondering which side of the small ring deep between the cheeks of her backside she should place the middle string of the thong. She opted for the left. It was a strange, niggling asymmetry to feel the tight grip of the string at only one side of her butthole instead of right across it.

Dressed and ready, and with her nerves steeled, Leah smoothed down the front of her dress and turned to open the door. As she slipped out, she heard Emmie's yelping reach an apparent crescendo as the slapping of bodies became louder and faster and Yvonne could be heard grunting, "Come... you... fat... fucking... tit-... cow!" Leah drew the door quickly closed behind her, and looked about, relieved to find the hallway empty.

For a moment, Leah couldn't remember which way down the hallway led to the outdoor terrace and the side entrance to the great hall. That was the route she had planned to take, since she had no hope of remembering the longer route she had originally taken with Lena, from the great hall through the courtyard gardens, with at least one turning somewhere among the hallways. Then Leah spied at one end of the hallway some distance away the glass-paneled doors to the terrace. Happy that she had oriented herself correctly, she nonetheless set off in the opposite direction. Her curiosity was great enough that she wanted to explore at least a little before heading straight back down to the ball, and as a practical matter, she wanted to get in a bit of practice walking in her new outfit.

She strolled slowly along the hallway, placing her steps carefully at first. Being laced as far down as the middle of the thigh, the dress restricted the movement of her legs a little more than those she had worn earlier in the evening. She took slightly smaller strides, placing each foot more directly in front of the other, slowly swiftening her gait as she became more comfortable. The tight fit across her backside also felt quite different. With each stride the ankh of the plug tweaked very slightly at her butthole. It was a surprisingly pleasant sensation. Her buttocks were held firm, giving a short, firm bounce from side to side as she walked. Leah fancied it might look quite good from behind.