The Sun in Her Sky Ch. 01

I took a moment to drink in the sight before me. Pale buttocks, lean and toned. And below them, framed by her shapely thighs, her labia, thick and...inviting? For long moments I couldn't tear my eyes away from her naked sex. It was an epiphany for me, a watershed moment in my late adolescence.

At last, self-consciousness brought me back to the moment. I stepped toward Becca, raised my hand and brought it down hard on her right ass cheek.

SMACK.

"Oh!" she squealed, but didn't break position.

"One, miss Bailey," I snapped, reviving the memory of her humiliating push-ups a week ago. I waited, in no hurry to exact my retribution.

"One, miss Bailey," she repeated quietly.

I whipped my hand down on her left buttock so hard that she rocked forward and had to put her hands on the floor to steady herself. The smack echoed through the kitchen.

"Ahhh...two, miss Bailey. Please...I'm sorry."

I wasn't listening. I viciously whacked her upturned ass again and again and she counted each one, her voice first pained, then coming in whimpers, and finally wracked by sobs. When I finally stopped, my hand was burning, swollen and red. Her bum was a bright collage of red and purple splotches and she was openly bawling, still grabbing her ankles.

"Th-thirty f-f-four, miss B-Bailey. Please...please...no more?"

My anger had burned down to embers and I stepped back, still not fully in control of myself, flying high on a blend of adrenaline, emotion, and power. My eyes fell again on her pussy and before my conscious thoughts had caught up, I was touching it. I cupped it from behind, letting my fingers slide forward over it. Smooth, warm skin. Crinkly pubic hair. Then back again, the impossibly soft caress of her labia as it brushed over my palm.

Wetness.

Not a little...a lot. Slick and slippery on my fingers. I sought out the source, stroked my fingers between her swollen pussy lips. Hot, soaked and almost frictionless, her pussy practically drooled over my probing fingertips. And the smell of her was...it was everywhere. I breathed it in. Felt it infuse me. Felt it awaken something primal and fundamental deep inside me. Something reckless, insatiable and undeniable. Something exhilarating and scary.

Becca's cries turned to gasps, then low moans. Her thighs were quivering, though whether from the shock of pain, powerful lust or the strain of maintaining her bent-over posture I didn't know...and didn't care. I slid my fingers forward and they brushed over an engorged nub of flesh. Becca sucked in a breath, then let it out in a ragged, shuddering sigh. I focused there, rubbing drenched digits back and forth over her clit as her groaning grew louder and more urgent.

And then she climaxed; her moaning broke into a series of deep, strangled grunts, the muscles in her thighs tightened, then began to quake violently, her hot, sweet-scented juices leaked over my wrist and palm before dripping onto the floor. I stepped back but my eyes didn't leave her. She was a wondrous vision to behold.

I found out later it had been her first orgasm. Her first one in eighteen years. How did it affect her, I wonder, that her first significant sexual milestone came from being brutally punished and then masturbated by a classmate? How did the circumstances of her sexual awakening affect the choices she made later in life?

Perhaps, in a very real way, the creature she would eventually become was conceived right there in my kitchen.

*

We were both in a daze as Becca pulled up her track pants and staggered out of my house.

I spent the weekend alternately terrified about the potential consequences of my actions and horny out of my mind at the memory of what we had done. What I had done TO her. I spent much of the time with my fingers between my legs, stroking myself to shattering orgasms as I recalled the image of Becca bent over, bruised and dripping. By Sunday evening my pussy was too sore to touch but the arousal remained.

Monday morning came and my thoughts were all over the place. If Becca reported me to parents, teachers or authorities, I was royally fucked. Even if she told the other girls on the team, my life would be over – I'd be exiled from the team and excommunicated from the circle of friends I'd spend years bonding with. But even knowing that, if you'd asked me to go back in time and choose a different course, I wouldn't have changed a thing. The heart wants what it wants, I guess.

I opened my front door and was surprised to find Becca standing on my porch. Her expression was somber but not hostile. I couldn't think of a single thing to say, so I stepped past her and off the porch. Let the chips fall where they may, I figured.

"Can...can I carry your bag?" she said in the tone of someone asking for a favour. She fell into stride next to me.

"Your week's over. You're free."

"Yeah, but I figured, you know, to make up for the phone I broke..."

"No worries. I'm over it. We're good."

"I'm really sorry, Gwen. Please let me make it up?"

The conversation was absolutely surreal. After all that had happened Friday afternoon, SHE was desperate to make amends to ME? I stopped and faced her.

"What is going on with you?"

She looked away and fidgeted with the strap on her backpack. "I mean, I kind of owe you, right? For the phone."

I was about to reject her when the memory of her naked, well-spanked ass flashed through my mind. Would having her around – and obligated to me – make a repeat performance more likely? The possibilities were tantalizing, as was the opportunity to explore this recently-awakened aspect to my personality.

I sighed. "So what, like, another week?"

"Whatever you think is fair."

I paused, then slid my backpack off and handed it to her.

"Thanks! And sorry again about-"

"No talking," I snapped, then turned and walked to school. Becca kept pace beside me.

For the rest of the semester, Becca was always just...there. When I stepped outside my house in the morning, she was waiting. When I finished my last class, she met me in the hall to carry my stuff home. If I ate lunch in the cafeteria, she ate silently beside me as I chatted and joked with friends. If I signed up for intramural sports at lunch or after school, Becca would sit in the gym and watch me play. When we took the bus to volleyball tournaments, she would sit beside me, or as close by as possible if I was sitting with friends. Even on weekends, I invited her along for swimming, shopping or movies. Well...I didn't really "invite" her, but I told her I was going and she always asked to tag along. Most of the time, I allowed it.

Of course, I had to lay down a few rules to smooth out her more annoying character traits. She wasn't to speak unless someone directly asked her a question, and I have to admit that silence really improved her likability as far as I was concerned. She wasn't allowed to touch any of my stuff unless I handed it to her to carry – I didn't want her breaking anything else of mine. And after a week where it seemed like I was tripping over her all the time, I made a rule that she had to stay two steps behind me whenever we went anywhere.

The girls noticed the changes and started calling her "Gwen's puppy" seeing as she was always following me around. Whenever I heard them I'd fire off a retort, just to keep up appearances, but secretly it gave me a thrill to be "in charge" of someone. I was coming to enjoy the taste of power and dominance.

Becca, for her part, seemed resigned to the part she was playing. When I made a rule, she adhered to it diligently. I could tell it sometimes bothered her not to be able to speak when she had something to say. It isolated her, in a way. Marginalized her. Being called a puppy always brought a deep pink blush to her face – it obviously humiliated her. But she continued to serve as my 'slave'.

Why? I have no idea. There was no REASON for it. We weren't friends. I wasn't even especially kind to her. She could have walked away any time she wanted, with no penalty. I was making no effort to hold her, yet she was making no effort to leave. In fact, when I tried to push her away, she would cling to her subservient role even more desperately. I eventually stopped questioning her behaviour and just accepted it. As I said before, the heart wants what it wants, right?

And despite my secret wish to see her stripped bare and bent over in front of me again, nothing like that happened for the rest of the semester. I was tempted – sorely tempted – but somehow it was hard to work up the courage to command her to do something so blatantly sexual. That first time, in my kitchen, anger had provided cover for my actions. But to demand sexual activity from her with a cool head? I wasn't ready to expose so much of my inner self, my deepest cravings. Not to another person. Especially not to Becca. I didn't have the confidence to make the first move.

So all through October and November and the first half of December, she was my silent shadow, present but largely ignored. Then school let out for Christmas break and I took my first extended vacation from Becca since the start of the school year. I told her to leave me alone for two weeks and we'd meet up again at school. She didn't seem happy with my decision, but she accepted it like she always did. I was pretty busy shopping for gifts for friends with what little money I had. I also taught myself Yoga by following along on the internet – I liked to have several projects on the go.

Believe it or not, I missed Becca.

Not her personality, obviously. I suppose I missed the attention most of all. Having her always around, watching ME, focusing on ME, doing whatever she could to please ME...Becca was giving me what I rarely got from my parents and six siblings. When she was near, I was really important. I loved being the focus of someone's life, and over the last few months, I'd grown accustomed to it.

The first day of school after New Year's, Becca wasn't waiting outside my door, nor at school, and I was truly disappointed not to see her. I made a few offhand inquiries but no one had heard anything. I sent her a very neutrally-worded text message, but got no response. I considered going to her house but she lived several blocks away and the weather was cold and slushy, so in the end I just went home.

The following day she wasn't at school either, and like before no one knew anything. I figured she had the flu or something and tried to put her out of my mind and focus on my studies. After all, we had exams the last week of January and the marks were important for college admissions. At the end of the day I walked home from school alone against an icy, biting wind.

I found Becca huddled on my porch, an over-sized gym bag beside her.

"Becca?" I asked. The sound startled her and she looked up. Her eyes were sunken and teary. She looked like she hadn't slept in a while.

"Hey Gwen," she said. She gave a weak smile, which quickly faded and she dropped her gaze. "My mom...kicked me out. I didn't know where else to go..."

"What? When did this happen?"

"Sunday."

"Where have you been all this time?"

"I was at the shelter last night but it was really scary. I don't want to go back."

"Do you want to come in?" I gestured to the front door.

"Yes please."

I stepped past her and opened the door. The house was empty, of course. Becca followed, lugging her gym bag with her. As she took off her shoes, I could see she was shivering violently.

"How long were you out there?" I asked.

"I came here right from the shelter. I don't know the time...my mom took my phone away. Mid-morning, I guess?"

"You were out in this cold all that time?"

She nodded.

I gave an exasperated sigh. "You're going to get pneumonia or frostbite or something."

She nodded again and stared at the floor.

"Come with me." I took her ice-cold hand and dragged her up to my bedroom. She allowed herself to be led without complaint.

I'd finally got a room all to myself when my older sister went to Edmonton for trade school. For the first eighteen years of my life I'd shared with one or sometimes two of my sisters. The agony of seven siblings living in a three-bedroom home.

"I'll go run a hot bath. Get undressed," I said, then left her alone in my bedroom.

The bathroom was cluttered with all sorts of toiletries and cosmetics and stuff – some of it mine – and the bathtub wasn't super-clean, but I figured she wouldn't be too picky seeing as she was half-frozen. I started the water running, then went back to check on her.

I entered the room just as Becca was peeling her track pants down her legs. She'd already shed her coat and top and stood there shivering in a white bra and navy blue panties.

Seeing girls in their underwear was nothing new to me. I'd been doing sports all through school, so I'd seen all kinds of girls in all states of undress and never paid them much attention. But somehow seeing this girl – MY girl – in her underwear stopped me in my tracks and sent an unexpected wave of arousal washing through me.

I leaned against the door frame. "It should just be a few minutes," I said. I made no effort to hide the fact that I was looking at her body.

"Thanks." She hesitated, as though waiting for me to leave or to look away. When it became obvious I would do neither of those things, she slowly reached back and unhooked her bra. It slid down her arms and off.

"Just leave it on the floor – I'll run a wash when you're in the bath."

She dropped her bra, then folded her arms over her chest, trying to shield them from my gaze.

"Don't waste time – the water should be almost ready."

"O-okay." She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, giving me an unobstructed view of her breasts. I'd known they were small – I'd seen her in the change room often enough – but hadn't realized her nipples were so thick. They stood out like big, pink jellybeans; her tiny tits made her nipples looks even bigger by contrast.

She slid her panties down and off, then stood upright. It was obvious she typically trimmed her black pubic hair, and just as apparent she hadn't done so recently – it was on the verge of looking unkempt. She saw me looking but I didn't care.

"I have a razor, if you need it," I said, meeting her eyes and giving her a wink.

"Uh, thanks," she said in a quiet voice. A delightful blush bloomed over her cheeks as she shivered naked in front of me.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

She paused, apparently unsure how to respond.

"I'll get you one," I decided, liking the feeling of being back in control, making decisions. "Come with me."

"Is anyone home?" She was rightly concerned about prancing naked around someone else's house.

"Not for a couple of hours. Hurry up."

I led her to the bathroom, turned off the water and watched with great interest as she gingerly lowered herself into the tub. I'd made the water barely warm, but to her almost-numb fingers and toes I'm sure it felt like magma. She hissed as she submerged herself.

"Nice and warm?"

"Yes, thank you. I know this is a lot of trouble..."

I shrugged. I considered asking why her mom had kicked her out, but to be honest I wasn't in the mood for a long, tear-filled story from the naked young woman bathing in front of me. A reckless, exhilarating abandon was welling up inside me. My libido was high and my imagination alive with the possibilities.

"You have anyplace else you can stay? Relatives? Friends?"

She shook her head. She was fully submerged now, her body stretched out in the bathtub, naked under my gaze.

"How long is this thing with your mom going to last?"

"Probably...a long time."

"The rest of the school year?"

She nodded glumly, staring straight forward into the bathwater.

"And you want to stay here?"

She looked up and met my eyes briefly, then lowered them and simply nodded again.

I let the silence extend to several minutes as my eyes roamed possessively over her. She needed me. She gave me the attention I craved. It would be easy to make her mine.

"I guess that way you could keep going to school and finish out the year. You could graduate, at least."

"Yeah."

I was quiet for a while longer, planning the way forward, figuring out how I was going to get what I wanted. Trying to see path, as they say.

"Get clean and warm up," I said. "I'll do your laundry. Anything in your gym bag need washing?"

"No, it's all clean."

I grabbed my razor from next to the sink and held it out for her, not bothering to change the blade. "Use it," I said. My eyes were serious and my voice no-nonsense.

Her eyes widened in surprise and her blush returned, but after a moment she gave a small nod.

As I left the bathroom, I made a my decision. Becca would be mine. All mine. She'd become my slave for real. I would become her entire world. She would satisfy my every appetite, whim and preference.

And that decision changed both of our lives.

*

Mom was surprisingly agreeable to letting Becca stay. You'd think after four of her seven kids had left the house she'd be reluctant to take on any more, but she said Becca could finish out the school year at our house provided I was okay with sharing my room. There was already a bunk bed in there anyway. She met my parents and my two sisters and we ordered pizza to 'celebrate' Becca's arrival.

After we'd eaten and done the dishes, Becca brought her gym bag up to my room and I helped her unpack. The clothes she'd arrived in were still in the dryer. It was clear she'd packed in a hurry and under emotional duress – she'd brought six shirts, no underwear at all and exactly five socks in addition to the fleece sweater and track pants she currently had on. It hadn't been a well-planned exit; more like a hasty retreat. All her notebooks and textbooks were still at her mom's house and she was adamantly opposed to returning there to retrieve them. Whatever had gone down between Becca and her mom had been BIG.

"What are you going to do about underwear?" I asked her in a quiet voice. My door was closed, but the walls were thin.

She was silent a moment, then looked at me with an embarrassed smile. "Do you think I could borrow some of yours?"

I was silent for a minute as I considered the possibilities. A plan began to take shape.

"I'm not sure what I have that would be right for you. Strip, and we'll try a few things."

"Um...what?"

"Get your clothes off and we'll see what's a good fit for your body type."

She didn't move, just stood there in wide-eyed uncertainty.

"Jesus, Becca, I see you in the change room all the time."

"Well...yeah, but..."

I gave an exaggerated sigh of frustration. "I didn't know you were going to be this much trouble. Fine, forget the underwear."

"No, wait! Wait..."

Becca quickly pulled her fleece sweater up and over her head, leaving her naked to the waist, then yanked her sweat pants down and off. Just like that, she was naked. It was hard to conceal my delight when I saw her pussy was now smooth-shaven. Such an obedient girl!

"Wow – you really went all out," I said, gesturing towards her bald slit.

She flushed red and covered it with her hand. "You said...I mean...I didn't know what you meant when you...you told me..."

"I meant your legs," I lied. "Geez...get your mind out of the gutter."

As she blushed and covered herself I went to my top drawer and chose a few pair of panties, then took a seat on the bottom bunk of my bed. She stood naked in front of me.

"Try this one first." I gave her a tight-fitting pair of white briefs.

She was only too eager to slide them on, then stood in front of me as though waiting for instructions. I made a show of appraising them, then nodded slowly. The thin fabric was hugging her tight and the contours of her labia were easy to discern.