Stoned Submission Ch. 13

"Love some," Annika smiled, her gaze following Lucille's movements through the room. Appreciating the plain black singlet tucked into boy-leg jeans and the motorbike boots stretching with each step.

Lucille returned, two glasses of tap water in hand, and sat on the ottoman opposite Annika, who held the glass but continued to sip at her milk, eyes locked on the older woman's pixie face. Each daring the other to speak first.

"What's it like," she eventually asked, breaking the mounting tension, "being stoned?"

Annika smiled, made a small "hmm" sound, and flopped back into the generous cushions behind her. She clasped her hands over her belly, subconsciously opening and closing her knees in a gentle rhythm. Lucille thought she caught a flash of flesh, but couldn't be sure.

Wanted to be sure.

"It's like being all floaty and relaxed. Easier to just focus on the body because sensations are heightened. Like right now," she said, opening her legs provocatively, "my cunt is throbbing. And we're only talking."

Lucille's pussy was beating at a similar pattern to Annika's legs, at knowing the young woman was naked beneath the skirt, but she spoke calmly, hiding her mounting desire. "Really? That's what it's like?"

Annika shrugged. "For me, anyway. Especially when I have some doctored milk helping me extend it." She brought the straw to her mouth, sucking the carton dry. "Deepen that feeling."

Lucille laughed. "Strawberry milk? You've got to be kidding."

"Not at all. I've blown smoke into it," she said, sucking again for any last remnants of flavour, the sound making Lucille press her thighs together, and in her imagination, she saw her younger neighbour making that exact same sound, but instead with cunt in her mouth.

"It makes me tingle all over," Annika continued, letting the empty carton fall to her side, her legs slowly moving apart and back together languidly. "Throat, armpits, chest, belly, cunt. Even the soles of my feet." With that she stretched her legs out, flexing her toes, reaching her arms up high, a lazy-cat stretch.

"All at once I'm over stimulated, under stimulated," she went on, "bouncing between the two. And all at once I need more and want less. I just don't know of which."

She sat up, leaned toward Lucille, her lips curved in a secret smile.

"And I'll do anything," she finished on a whisper, "anything, to get it."

Lucille's cunt had throbbed along with Annika's uninhibited honesty, each beat more intense than the last, as her desire to take and possess the young brunette in this state mounted.

Annika's unblinking stare unnerved her; she was waiting.

"Can you," Lucille whispered, "can you do the splits?"

Annika scoffed, let out a drowsy giggle. "Can I do the splits," she muttered.

On a lazy exhalation, she leaned back against the couch, the angle tilting her pelvis just right, and stretched her legs out wide, making Lucille's eyes pop as a naked Nika was put on full display, before scissoring up so her right shin touched her nose, left extended out to pointed toe.

"Which way?" she asked mischievously. Nika was well and truly in control.

Lucille swallowed audibly.

"Out wide first," she said, no nonsense and wandered over to a side-table, opened the third draw along and drew out a deep cherry-red leather riding crop, tested it against the palm of her hand. She turned to look at Annika, sunken into the sofa. "There's something I want to do."

With legs outstretched almost parallel to the seat of the couch, Annika merely nodded, angling her head just so on the back of the couch so she could watch.

Lucille rapped the crop lightly to the sole of Annika's left foot. She gasped, legs automatically tensing, before she absorbed the pain and relaxed again. Smiling, Lucille ran the crop along the underside of Annika's leg, over her mons -- deliberately flicking her skirt up -- and across the right, down to slap the sole of that foot.

Annika bit her bottom lip, pressing into her elbows for leverage, eager.

"Do you like this?" Lucille cooed to the younger woman.

"Yes," came Annika's soft reply. "I'm so hot just wondering what you'll do next."

Lucille rubbed the crop up and down the centre of Annika's foot, delighted to see the younger woman was indeed ticklish. "What would you like me to do next?" she asked, her voice growing husky with desire.

Annika let out a heavy breath and spoke her truth. "I want you to crop my inner thighs. My pussy. To rub it through my slit and slap me there. Then run it up my body and tap and smack my tits. Make them go pink. Then make me taste Nika on the leather."

Lucille cracked the crop against the palm of her hand, jerking Annika back to attention. As if exiting a trance, Annika shook her head clear, registering that Lucille had removed her black top and was now wearing just jeans and boots. Her small breasts were free, plucked hard with the heady sense of power Annika offered.

"Your wish..." Lucille murmured softly before bringing the crop down on Annika's exposed slit with a crack. Annika cried out in surprise, shock, before the warmth of that tension dissolved, dancing over her like fizzy bubbles.

Lucille then lightly tapped the crop between Annika's thighs, like the swinging hand of a metronome, confusing nerve endings but centring the tension in Annika's body once again.

Annika's gaze flicked from the hypnotic harmony the crop was making between her legs to Lucille's breasts (such a dark rose against milky skin), up and over her throat glistening with sweat, to her lips that trembled with the effort of her control.

Lucille, whose own focus was on finding and exploiting the silent demand for more on Annika's expressive face, slowly increased the intensity and frequency of her strikes. She saw Annika bite her lip to muffle her moan -- in pain or pleasure? -- and was determined to make the girl break.

Make her beg.

With a growl, she brought the crop down on Annika's mons, knowing the younger woman would feel the external strike ripple internally. A ripple that grew to a wave inside Lucille.

And so, her range evolved -- slap, slap, smack -- until she saw Annika's pink thighs tremble with the effort to remain open, the knuckles turn white as she held on to the balls of her feet, the sweat drip from her throat down between her breasts, sticking white material to tanned flesh.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Lucille asked, breaking her symphony only briefly to run the crop through Annika's silken folds. The younger woman's sigh of relief ended on a squeal as the crop aimed its bite to the tender flesh of her slit.

Slap, slap, smack. "You feel like you're building to something, don't you? A place only your body knows. But your mind --" slap, slap, smack -- "your mind is refusing to let go."

"Oh fuck," Annika cried out, the tendons in her neck bulging, "it's like you're already inside me."

"Not yet, not yet," Lucille chanted, her strikes landing with precision and perfect intensity: not so hard that Annika would ask her to stop, and no so soft that Annika could beg for more.

The strikes to her pussy were varied and inconsistent; at one time Annika felt three tings land directly on her clit in quick succession, and before she could familiarise herself with this new sensation, Lucille aimed lower, against the more fleshy part of Nika's folds.

"Fuck, Lucille," Annika whispered, biting her lip to supress the whimper.

But Lucille saw it. Saw that her herbaceous neighbour was right where she wanted her.

She now leaned over the couch, almost straddling Annika's left leg with her own bent by Annika's waist, the right still on the floor, and offered her neighbour her breasts.

"Suckle me, darling," she crooned, lightly tapping the crop again and again over Annika's labia majora, the staccato sound mingling with Annika's laborious breathing. "Shh... relax."

On an almost sob, Annika wrapped her lips around Lucille's offered nipple, suckling and tugging at the older woman's flesh, each tug growing harder, hungrier, with the once again increase in pain. Annika rested her thighs on the couch, unable to hold her stretch any longer, and was rewarded with another hard smack.

Her teeth sunk into Lucille's skin.

"Yes, yes, that's it," Lucille said, lowering her denim-clad cunt to Annika's thigh, finding her pleasure there with the pungent scent of Nika filling the room, in the sloppy slap of leather on skin, in the hungry mouth suckling her breast. She curled her fingers around the back of Annika's neck, feeling hair matted with sweat, holding the younger woman to her.

"Come for me!" she demanded, bringing the crop down hard on Annika's flesh, a tingling flame between her legs. She repeated the order, the movement, as though a jokey atop a horse, before pulling Annika's head back and crushing her mouth to hers.

It's as though she's breathing me in, a separate, dislocated part of Annika's mind noticed; vanishing under the feeling of Lucille's invading tongue. Under the inferno burning through her loins.

"Fucking come, Annika! Give it to me!" Lucille cried, her voice growing desperate, her lips slick with spit from passion, her hips almost chaffing the younger woman's thigh.

Annika pressed into her elbows, rocking her hips up to meet the crop, her pussy gripping, pulling, building to an explosion. Her mouth responded to Lucille's demand; she tasted salt on her lips, not registering the flavour came from overwhelmed tears. She panted and embraced the burn, feeling her thighs tremble, her belly jump.

"Oh fuck, fucking fuck!" she groaned into Lucille's mouth, their mixed spit covering her nostrils, cheeks, chin. "Fuck!" she cried, bucking up hard to one final smack of the crop, her pussy finally flooding open to fight the flame.

"Yes, yes, yes," chanted Lucille, dropping the crop, her pussy within the denim soaking the thick material, the friction there all the more intense with Annika's helpless cries and shudders. She felt her own eruption begin from within, continued to ride it out to the surface.

The younger woman extended her right leg out in an effort to move with her orgasm, her left knee bending to give Lucille more strength against which to grind. Lucille covered Annika's pussy with her entire hand, rubbing her palm through the puffy pink folds, extending the younger woman's orgasm. Extending her own. Locked tight together, they writhed through the rage.

"Fuck, fuck, Lucille. No more," she whimpered, her hand gripping Lucille's wrist, halting her movements. "No more."

Lucille continued to slowly grind her pussy against denim and thigh, but eased the strokes of her hand, soothing the abraded skin. She lowered her forehead to the crown of Annika's head, smiling as she felt the other woman rooting around her breast again.

"Are you okay?" Lucille finally asked, easing up off the couch, loosening belt and buckle as she toed off her boots, wriggled free. Her sharp green eyes searched Annika's face, concerned but eager to continue.

"I don't know," Annika hiccupped, rubbing shaky hands over her face. "I don't know."

Lucille smiled, a wave of tenderness sweeping through her, and slowly pulled the white shirt over Annika's head. Her skin was flushed from the fury of passion, the tops of her breasts spilling over the white-laced bra with her heaving breath. Lucille clucked her tongue, removed the bra and unbuttoned the skirt bunched over Annika's bellybutton, drawing it up and over her head.

She leaned down to place her cool palms on Annika's heated inner thighs. Sucked in a breath upon feeling the burn.

"You sure you're okay?"

Annika nodded, shrugged. "I'm fine."

Lucille rubbed her hands up from inner thigh to knee, down again. The younger woman sighed under the tender touch and rolled her shoulders, stretching lazily like a cat.

"Just how high are you now?" Lucille asked.

Annika chuckled, eyelids anchored by lashes, rolled her head from side to side as if checking.

"I was already pretty tanked when I got here. And after that orgasm? Fuck. Off the charts high."

With dark green eyes locked the pliant form before her, Lucille pressed her fingertips into the soft skin behind Annika's knees, lifting them so the younger woman's feet anchored to the seat, took a moment to lower her gaze and admire the deep blush overing her pussy and thighs, before capturing Annika in her gaze once again.

Lucille took Annika's forearms, manoeuvring her arms behind the back of the couch, and gripped the pointed elbows. She then lowered herself to straddle the other woman, sitting -- squatting, really, kind of awkwardly -- wedging her knees beneath Annika so the brunette's calves rested on the tops of her thighs.

Their pussies were perfectly aligned.

Annika flexed her hands on the back of the couch, wishing for something to grip, and sucked in a breath -- forced herself to avoid the urge to push back, to push up, to rock her hips -- her mind flipping through a mental photo album of Lucille fucking her on the toilet. Her eyes brightened with awareness. Anticipation.

"Hurt much?" Lucille asked softly, desire thickening her voice, shifting on her feet a little.

Annika took a moment to take stock, her heavy inhalation causing the tops of her breasts to tickle Lucille's pointed teats. She still burned, pleasantly. "I suppose I'll be sore tomorrow, but right now? Fucking amazing. Like I'm on fire inside."

Lucille chuckled softly, lowering her hot gash to hover just over Nika.

"I have just the balm to soothe you," she said, voice low and husky.

"Do you?" Annika asked, her whisper as soft and low as Lucille's.

Lucille nodded, making a soft "uh huh" sound, shifting again and tilting her pelvis forward so Annika could feel fresh heat. "You loved the feeling of me peeing on you," she continued, her cunt a whisper from Nika. "Didn't you?"

Annika nodded, her eyes bright with begging. Do it again. Take me again. Possess me again.

"Say it."

"I fucking loved it," Annika breathed.

Lucille released Annika's elbows only to cup Annika's sizeable breasts, holding them up to rub her nipples over Annika's aching tips. She circled her nipple around Annika's areola, over the piercing, wished fleetingly for interlocked nipple clamps to bind them together.

Next time.

On a moan, she tickled her fingertips from Annika's armpits and up to grip her elbows, crushing her mouth to the younger woman's, tongue aggressively invading, spit again growing slick and slimy in their heated duel. Annika flexed her fingers against the couch, felt her triceps strain under Lucille's tight grip but matched her passionate kiss.

The room was silent save for their heavy breathing exhaling on soft moans and whimpers; their nostrils flared with the scent of their combined arousal filling the room; their mouths swelled with passion, slick and pink. Lucille relished the wetness in and around her mouth. It reminded her of devouring pussy.

Biting Annika's dense bottom lip, she pulled back, nose to nose, bodies tense, vibrating.

"Loved the flood of heat as I washed over you."

"Fuck, yes," Annika respired, her voice sounding so soft under the thundering of her heart.

"You're such a little dyke," Lucille said, bringing their pussies close enough to kiss. Nika clenched in proximity to Lucille's fiery core and tilted her pelvis in greeting. In offering.

Lucille arched her hips out of reach, rolling a copious amount of saliva around her mouth before releasing a slow drop of spit, one that rolled silkily through her own folds before spreading over Annika's cunt.

"Oh fuck!" she cried at the same moment Lucille lowered herself to Annika's open gash, rolling her hips in slow circles to spread the moisture.

"Oh fuck," she said again, a deep, guttural groan this time, as her head rolled back in surrender to the feeling.

"Look at me," Lucille quietly commanded, sliding her cunt up Annika's length, thrusting forward to stimulate the other woman's clit. Moving at a slow, languid pace. No rush. Finding pleasure in building the fire once again.

Mouth agape, Annika lifted her head, saw herself reflected in Lucille's eyes, and tried once again to find that dislocated version of herself. The Annika who could let go and accept the pleasure being given.

The trembling that seemed centred in Nika fluttered over her, through her, and Annika finally tore herself free from Lucille's eyes, shifted her gaze down to watch. She sucked in a breath at the sight of Lucille's sloppy pussy lips engulfing her own; at the smell wafting up to cloud her mind. Her body tensed and tingled numb. It looked exactly as it felt; a slow teasing tickle that spread from centre to scalp.

"You don't know whether you want me to keep at this slow, soothing pace or go harder. Quicker," Lucille crooned, her voice hiding the effort made to hold herself at bay. She looked down and watched, wanting nothing more than to brand the woman below her with her cunt, to use her body for her own gratified pleasure.

"I don't even know my own name," Annika said, a huffed laugh escaping her lips. Her inner thighs trembled, her toes curled to grip the at the cushion beneath her and she pushed her elbows against Lucille's hands. Begging with her body for release.

Lucille surrendered her grip on Annika's arms, placing the one at the base of Annika's throat, while the other gripped her left breast, palm pushing against the piercing, fingertips pressing white into the younger woman's flesh.

With her hands now free, Annika brought them down to her toes, gripping the balls of her feet to hold herself open and available for Lucille's consumption.

And lost her breath upon feeling another hot dollop of Lucille's spit land between their kissing cunts.

With the added fluid, the older woman gradually narrowed the long oval motions she was making, her gyrations gaining in strength. She felt Annika's thick pulse beneath her fingers and felt like a goddess. One whose subjects willingly offered themselves as submissive sacrifice.

"You want me to come inside you?" she panted, her pussy searing Annika over and over, not for a moment soothing the red marks. Instead inflaming them, making them spread.

The younger woman let out a shaky breath, nodded.

"Infect you with my dyke juices?" she continued, her thrusts against Annika increasing in strength, decreasing in frequency. Long, slow, hard thrusts.

Annika nodded again.

"Come all over you? Rub my pussy all over Nika, your tummy, your tits?"

"Oh fuck, yes," Annika sighed, her neck strained under Lucille's hand as she shifted to press her elbows in the creases of her knees. "You have no idea."

Lucille squeezed Annika's throat upon her sighed consent and she slowly increased her wanton undulations. She wanted to show Annika exactly what two women could achieve together, that it was more potent than any drug, more life affirming than any cock.

She settled her cunt over Annika's quivering core, gyrating against the skin still slick from sweat and spit and secretions. She groaned as her clit was met with the welcome crevice atop of Annika's slit, hand still massaging the heavy flesh of her pierced breast.

Lucille humped and fucked up into that narrow slit, the sensation turning her whole pelvis into a thousand firepricks of needles. She relished Annika's broken breath beneath her, her hips arching up in search for fulfilment.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted, feeling the young woman quicken beneath her. "Yes. Fucking come. Feed my cunt all your nasty Nika juices."

Annika's face pinched shut tight, the high points of her forehead, cheeks, nose and chin sheened with sweat.

"Fucking come!" Lucille squeezed Annika's throat. "Come!"