tagBDSMOpening Doors

Opening Doors


Lydia leans down and kisses me roughly. I open up for her, offering no resistance, pressing my lips against hers as she explores my mouth with her tongue. She bites my bottom lip, then pulls away. I stretch out my tongue as if to summon her back, but she stands up and I know better than to speak. She looks me up and down, and I can tell she's admiring the state she's put me in.

When I dressed this morning, I was dressing for the moment I would knock on her dorm room door after class. My blouse is almost see-through, my pleated skirt just short enough that it's dangerous to bend over, my bra and panties the baby-pink set I know she likes so much. I even put on a pair of white knee-length socks. At a few months short of twenty years old, I won't be able to pull off this kind of thing for much longer. I might as well rock it while I can.

Lydia's contribution to my look are the ropes. My hands are tied firmly behind my back. My ankles are bound together, and ropes from my thighs to the bed force my knees apart. It's one of her favourite positions to put me in, especially when I'm dressed so innocently, and she's become so good at bondage that the ropes feel perfect—not tight enough to hurt, exactly, but firm and snug in a way that constantly reminds me I'm her plaything. Then there's my general state of disarray. After twenty minutes of being thoroughly teased by her lips and hands and words, I feel like one of her art pieces—sitting bound on the bed, hair tousled, blouse undone, skirt pulled up to reveal what I know must already be a wet patch on my panties.

She reaches into her purse and pulls out her phone. "Eight megapixel camera!" she texted me excitedly when she got it last week. Without really meaning to, I moan slightly and thrust out my tits. I can feel my nipples get rock-hard beneath my bra.

Lydia laughs. "You like that, don't you, my pet? You like it when I take pictures of you when you're all dolled up like this."

I can only nod. Lydia laughs again.

That's when the door opens.

Lydia and I both look over at the same moment. There's Chelsea, whom I know lives down the hall from Lydia, holding a calculator and looking about as shocked as I feel.

"Um, sorry," she says. "I was just...I wanted to borrow your calculus book...I'll just...go...I'm sorry." But she continues to stand in the doorway. She's looking at me, but not at my face. I can feel her eyes moving all over my body.

"Um, sure," says Lydia. "The book's right here." She grabs it from her desk and hands it to Chelsea.

Chelsea doesn't move. "What are you guys doing?" she asks. She moistens her lips with her tongue.

"Playing," says Lydia nonchalantly. Then, smiling one of those smiles I love to fear, she asks, "Want to join in?"

Chelsea steps into the room, closing the door behind her. "What are you going to do to her?" she asks.

"Well, when you walked in I was about to take some pictures," says Lydia, gesturing to her phone. "Just for personal use, of course. The slut likes to look at them while she touches herself. Isn't that right, Amy?"

Chelsea looks at me, and I nod, not meeting her gaze. I wonder if the two of them can see that I'm wetter now than when Chelsea first came in.

"That sounds fun," says Chelsea. This is a side of Chelsea I've never seen. We're reasonably close—I've trusted her with some minor secrets—but we've never even talked about sex before.

"Oh, it is," smiles Lydia. "Is there anything you'd especially like to do to her?"

Chelsea bites her lip. Once again, I feel her looking me up and down. "That skirt..." she says finally. "It just makes you want to pull it up and spank her cute little ass, doesn't it?"

Lydia laughs. "I like the way you think," she says. Then, turning to me, "Do you want this, Amy? Is this OK?"

I nod. OK? I can't even count the number of times I've made myself cum imagining scenarios like this one. Lydia and I have talked about involving someone else, but we weren't sure where to start looking. And now someone's literally come to our door.

"Of course she wants it," laughs Lydia. "I bet it's making her so wet." Chelsea smiles. "OK," says Lydia, "A few things first. Her safeword is pineapple. If you hear that, you stop, no questions asked. And also, this stays between us, at least for now. After all, we don't want to share a pretty little pet like Amy with just anyone, do we?"

"Got it," says Chelsea. She licks her lips again, then asks, "Can I touch her?"

Lydia nods. "I bet she'd really like that. Wouldn't you, slut?"

I just moan. Chelsea sits down on the bed near my bound body. She pushes my bra up so my tits are exposed, then starts playing with my nipples. Her touch is so light it teases. I push my chest out so I can press my breasts into her hands.

"You can go a lot harder than that," says Lydia. "She's a little painslut, my Amy. She likes things rough."

"Cool," says Chelsea. "So can I do this?" She pulls on my right nipple so hard I whimper.

"Totally," says Lydia. "She loves it. Look how wet you're making her."

It's true. I feel so aroused I wouldn't be surprised if I'm dripping onto Lydia's sheets.

Chelsea looks down. "Wow," she says. "She's soaking." She looks at Lydia, who's taken a seat on the chair beside the bed and is staring at Chelsea and me. "Can I take her panties off?" asks Chelsea.

"You'll have to untie her legs for that," says Lydia, "so let me just get a few pictures first." Chelsea gets up, and Lydia raises her phone. "Smile for the camera, my pretty little pet," she says, and I look at her with a face that's probably more debauched than smiling. She nods her head and takes one, two, three, four, five shots, including one close up of the wet patch in my panties. Then she steps back and nods.

"Go ahead, untie her," she says to Chelsea. "The knots are easy to get undone, look." She demonstrates on one of my thighs, then has Chelsea try the other one. When they've unbound me completely, I relax my legs slightly. Lydia slaps my thigh.

"Did we say you could move your legs?" she asks me. I shake my head. "Move them apart," she says, and I do. Turning to Chelsea, she says, "The slut just can't wait to rub her pussy lips together."

Chelsea laughs, then pulls off my panties. I'm careful to keep my legs spread as wide as I can. She holds the panties in her hand. "What should I do with these?" she asks Lydia.

Lydia smiles, takes the panties, and shoves them into my mouth. I moan, and so does Chelsea. "That's so hot," she whispers.

"I know," says Lydia, snapping a few more pictures. "Now she gets to taste how wet we've made her, what a dirty girl she's being. Getting turned on from being tied up and humiliated like this—that's not something a good girl would do, Amy." I moan from behind my panty gag.

Chelsea looks down at my wet pussy. She pushes my skirt up even further, then runs one finger from my clit to my opening and enters me. Seeing how easily she slides in, she tries two fingers, then two fingers and a thumb. I push my hips out to meet her hand. She fucks me with her fingers, then pulls them out and wipes them off on my breasts.

"Look what an obedient girl she's being today," says Lydia. She pats my head. "What a good little slut you are, Amy."

"I really want her to eat me out," breathes Chelsea.

"Go ahead," says Lydia. She unties my wrists, roughly pulls my wet panties out of my mouth, and pushes me down so I'm lying in the middle of the bed. I open my mouth, and both of them laugh. "Look at how eager she is to eat your pussy," says Lydia.

Chelsea gets out of her jeans and panties. She pulls off her shirt and undoes her bra. I can't help admiring her body. Her breasts are round and full, much bigger than mine, just the kinds of tits I'd love to play with if I were allowed to move. She gets onto the bed and straddles my face. I reach out my tongue and start licking at her sweet pussy.

As she gets more aroused, she starts rubbing harder and harder against my face. I keep licking, her juices all over my lips and cheeks making my own pussy even wetter. Beside me, I'm aware that Lydia is touching herself. Everywhere is the smell of arousal and the wet slap of pussy on soft skin. I breathe in the scent of Chelsea, letting myself get lost in pleasing her, in being the little whore I love to be told I am.

When Chelsea cums, she gyrates her hips wildly, covering my nose, my chin, my neck, with her pussy juices. Her screams send Lydia over the edge as well, until all I can hear is panting and moaning. I feel so wet I can barely manage to keep my legs apart.

Chelsea gets off me and sits on the edge of the bed. "Wow," she says. "Just, wow." She sighs.

Chelsea and Lydia are both satisfied, but I can't believe how aroused I am. It's all I can do not to reach down and rub my clit. I know better than to try anything, though. As Lydia says, I'm being an obedient little slut today. So I wait, although each second it gets harder and harder not to at least wriggle and squirm on the bed.

Finally, Chelsea looks over at me. I imagine how I must look to them both—hair a mess, face covered in pussy juice, tits exposed, skirt up around my hips, a look of desperate arousal on my face. As if on cue, Lydia pulls out her phone and snaps pictures in quick succession. She shows her phone screen to Chelsea, and both of them giggle.

It's the giggling—the humiliation of the two of them laughing at my dishevelled appearance and obvious need—that proves too much for me. I writhe on the bed, panting and whimpering. "Please," I say. "Please let me cum."

Lydia giggles some more. "Do we let her?" she asks Chelsea.

"Well, I don't feel like getting any more of her cunt juice on my fingers," says Chelsea. As if to reinforce her point, she takes the fingers she stuck inside me and rubs them on my tits again.

Lydia looks at me. There have been times when she's made me wait hours before letting me cum. But I think she sees how desperate I already am, how extra-aroused Chelsea has made me, because she says, "I don't want to touch that slut pussy either. But if the dirty whore wants to touch herself, I guess we can let her. Do you want to touch yourself, Amy?"

I nod.

"Well, how about you ask for it like a good girl," says Lydia.

"Please, Lydia and Chelsea, please may I touch myself?" I say, the delicious shame of speaking the words increasing my arousal to a fever pitch.

They both nod.

My hand shoots to my clit so fast it makes Lydia and Chelsea giggle again. And it's this laughing, and the way they're staring at me with a mixture of amusement and superiority, that brings me over the edge almost immediately. I buck my hips on the bed and actually cry out. It's the kind of orgasm Lydia's floormates are definitely going to hear.

The waves of pleasure subside, and I relax. I bring my hand to my mouth and lick it clean, my tongue tasting Chelsea's juices on my lips in the process.

Chelsea is putting her clothes back on. When she finds my panties on the ground, she throws them carelessly onto my tits. "Can I still borrow your calculus textbook?" she asks Lydia when she's dressed.

"Totally," says Lydia.

"That was awesome," says Chelsea. "But you know, I never did get to spank her."

"Then we'll have to do this again sometime," I say from the bed.

"Leave your door unlocked and maybe we can," says Chelsea with a wink.

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