Put Me In a Skirt and Hurt Me: The Strictly Lesbian Adventures of Mistress Sophia (19 page)

29

S
OPHIA SLEPT IN
.
She rolled to her left and right, stretching and groaning.

This is when I wished I lived with someone. What I wouldn’t do for someone to stroll in with an Americano and a toasted bagel with cream cheese.

She groaned again and got out of bed. She turned on the espresso machine. She pulled the refrigerator door open and peered inside.

“Nothing ... ”

She lifted the half-and-half carton and shook it gently.

“Just enough ... ” She let out a huge sigh.

“I should let my housekeeper do the grocery shopping.”

She made an Americano and settled into her blue mohair chair. Then she sighed and got up again, her mind suddenly racing with so many new ideas for Willow, and maybe some other subs, that she had to go get a notepad to record them.

She thought about strapping Willow into various devices. She pondered new ways of punishing her, new locations, trying again with another sub, not Porsche, someone dedicated. She even thought about bringing in another dominatrix.

I wonder if Mrs. Pea
... she thought briefly.

She got up once again and grabbed her Mac. She cruised several websites for fetish gear and found herself fairly bored with the offerings.
I have most of this crap. I want something new ... innovative.
She continued to surf for over an hour, lost in handcuffs and butt plugs.

Porsche scurried down the sidewalk as fast as she could in her heels. She held tightly to the tiny piece of paper with the bar’s address scrawled on it. She yanked open the door and peered into the dimness. Loud greetings erupted across the room. Betty and Veronica were emitting high-pitched
grating squeals, like pigs fighting over the trough.

“Kisses, kisses!” Porsche spouted breezily as she leaned in and pecked both girls on the lips. “Will someone please buy me a drinky drink? I am parched!”

Betty motioned for the bartender and called for three martinis. “We’ve missed you!” she said. “What’ve you been up to, sweets?”

Veronica looked Porsche up and down, resting her eyes on Porsche’s tits, her cleavage spilling out of a Jean Paul Gaultier T-shirt, a subtle camel toe in her just slightly too tight 7 For All Mankind jeans. She leaned in and nuzzled Porsche’s neck.

Porsche continued to yak away about the cost of her mother’s funeral, the stalled will. “I don’t understand all that legal mumbo jumbo, something about
exparte
and some other Latin stuff.”

Veronica pulled her face away from Porsche’s neck. “I thought you used to work at a law firm?”

“Yeah, I did. And I
still
can’t follow what’s going on with my mom’s estate. It’s that fucked up.” Porsche slugged down her martini.

Veronica and Betty exchanged a quick smile then Veronica returned to kissing and licking Porsche’s neck as Betty looked on.

One martini followed another, and soon the three were in a booth, groping and making loud obnoxious comments about the bar, other patrons, and their own friends.

“Martinis!” Porsche yelled. She held her glass up in the air and then turned it upside down, the last few drops spilling over the table.

“BARRRRRRBOY! DIDJA HEAR THAT? WE ARE DRY!” Betty bellowed.

Veronica had her head under the table and under Betty’s skirt.

The bartender approached empty handed. “I’m cutting you ladies off,” he said holding up his hands. “It’s time you headed home, or down the street.”

“NO! NO! NO! We LIKE it HERE!” Betty beat the table for emphasis.

“I can call you a cab. I can call you a friend. But you are going to have to leave.”

“You fucking A-hole.” Porsche grabbed for his hand. “Let us stay, A-hole. Come on.”

“Or, I can call the police.”

Veronica’s head banged the table as she came up. “We’re going. We’re going. We’re OUT OF HERE!” She grabbed Betty’s hand and Betty tried to grab Porsche’s but missed and sent three empty martini glasses flying across the table and onto the floor. The girls erupted in a fit of spit and giggles as they staggered toward the door.

The bartender looked at the table.
The usual for Betty and Veronica ... mayhem and a wad of cash.
He scooped up the bills and went to find the busboy to clean up the mess.

Porsche was sandwiched between Betty and Veronica as they staggered down the street, looking for another bar. They paused long enough to snort a little coke in an alley. After being rejected by three different bouncers, they fell into a cab and headed for home. Outside their door, Betty dropped her key three times, so finally Veronica took over and managed to get the key into the lock. Betty flew down the hall to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet, laughing and choking.

Veronica pushed Porsche up against the wall and wriggled her tongue into her mouth. Porsche responded by biting the invading tongue gently and then circling it with her own. Veronica pushed her body up against Porsche’s, mashing her into the wall. Porsche grabbed at Veronica’s shirt, pulling it up out of her leather pants, reaching up under it, and rubbing, then scratching, Veronica’s naked back. Veronica pulled away so Porsche could slide her hands up to massage her titties, taking each nipple between her thumb and first finger as she squeezed and flicked. Veronica put her hand between Porsche’s legs and pushed the denim roughly against her pussy lips.

“Ow, that hurts!” Porsche pouted. “Do it again, Ronnie.”

Veronica moved her hand in and up, then began to rub back and forth. She grabbed the back of Porsche’s neck and flung her around into the room, toward the couch.

“Get on my couch,
now
. I’m going to fuck you.”

“No, baby, I’m going to fuck
you
.”

Both of them stood, swaying, next to the couch. Veronica grabbed Porsche’s jeans, got them unbuttoned, then yanked them down Porsche’s thighs.

Betty stumbled into the room, a bottle of sparkling water in her left hand and a nine-inch maraschino cherry-red dildo in her right. She threw them both onto the couch, then went over to an end table, opened the drawer, and took out a mirror and a vial of coke. She poured a liberal line, then another, and another. Veronica and Porsche paused to take a toot.

Veronica pulled Porsche up mid-snort and slapped her ass—the jeans were still around her knees. Veronica yanked Porsche’s tiny pink G-string out of the way, bent over, and licked her asshole. Porsche bent over, struggling to get the jeans the rest of the way off and to get her ass higher in the air for Veronica.

Betty held on to the dildo and stumbled back into the kitchen. She returned with a pair of kitchen scissors and started to cut the jeans off Porsche.

“Wait! Wait, God DAMN it ... these are fucking 7 For All Mankind, Betty!”

“I’ll fucking buy you a half-dozen pairs of jeans. Shut up and let me get these off you. Oh, did I just nip you?”

Porsche held still while Betty cut her out of the jeans, then Veronica went back to licking and sucking.

Betty found a bottle of lube and slathered some on the dildo, her hand slipping up and down—schlurp schlurp schlurp. Then she poured some more lube on her hand.

“Ronnie, get out of my way. I’m gonna fuck this little prissy pot.”

Veronica gave Porsche a few more licks, shoving her tongue in and out of Porsche’s asshole, then slumped over onto the couch. Betty lurched forward and slapped her gelled-up hand against Porsche’s ass-crack. She lifted the red dildo and nestled it against the little red asterisk of Porsche’s hole. Veronica pushed herself up and grabbed Porsche’s butt cheeks pulling them apart. Betty began to gently twist and push the dildo into Porsche’s asshole.

Betty proceeded to apply pressure. Veronica kept pulling Porsche’s ass cheeks apart.

Veronica bent forward and kissed Porsche passionately.

Betty lost her balance and slipped forward slightly, plunging the dildo hard into Porsche’s asshole.

“Oh, FUCK!” Porsche tried to pull away, but Veronica held her and started laughing.

“So sorry,” Betty giggled. “My bad.”

Porsche looked back at Betty and stuck her tongue out like a brat. “Be careful, you cuntlicker.”

Betty pulled the dildo almost all the way out, but the tip stayed inside Porsche and, before Porsche could respond, she teased it back in.

Porsche felt the dildo deep inside her, felt herself opening to it. She struggled, not to get away from the dildo, but to move toward it. To move with it. To fuck it back.

“Holy shit! She’s bucking like a bronco!” Betty blurted.

“That’s our girl! That’s our girl. You’re going to be our little fuck machine, yeah? Oh, yeah, Alice. Fuck it, baby.” Veronica moved to the arm of the couch near Porsche’s head, and perched on it. She pulled Porsche’s head up and thrust her pussy into it.

30

P
ORSCHE FELT HERSELF BEING
suffocated by Veronica’s cunt as she rocked her hips back and forth to take the fucking Betty dealt out. She pulled back and took a big gulp of air, then plunged herself forward to lick, nibble, and suck at Veronica’s cunt lips, loving the way they hung down and their nut-brown color.

Betty continued fucking Porsche, watching the dildo’s shaft disappear into her new lover’s
lovely asshole then re-emerge, only to disappear again as Betty pushed forward and Porsche bucked backward, wanting to take it all in, wanting to swallow that dildo up her ass as her tongue licked and flicked at Veronica’s clit.

Veronica massaged her own tits, kneading and pulling on her nipples. She reached for Porsche’s head and pushed it back and forth as she felt her orgasm coming on. She returned to her nips, pinching them and vibrating them with her hands until she began to call out, “Ooooh. Oooooh. FUCKING FUCK YEAH.” Guttural sounds from deep in her belly lifted her up and sent her crashing against the insides of her own skull.

Betty thrust harder as Veronica came, and, as hoped, she felt Porsche contract and expand against the dildo as she, too, began to come. Betty could barely pull the dildo back out, it was clenched so firmly in Porsche’s ass. Porsche erupted, swearing, flinging her arms out, arching her back, quivering and quaking until she collapsed forward, knocking Veronica over the arm of the couch and onto the floor.

Betty tried to gently remove the dildo, but was finally forced to yank it out, afraid it would get stuck. Porsche moaned and muttered obscenities, but remained face forward in the couch cushions.

Betty reached down to her own pussy, but then sprinted down the hall for another round of talking to the toilet.

An hour later, Porsche was surprised to see a large gray bat flapping about the room. The bat had long fangs and pink translucent wings. All of a sudden, it landed on her! In a panic, she jerked upright and felt the bat fly against her chest. She stifled a scream and opened her eyes to find that her own hand had flopped against her. She’d been lying on top of it and it had fallen asleep. The bat in her dream was her own half-dead hand. Porsche shook it and felt the needles and pins of feeling return. She wiped her eyes with her good hand and stood up unsteadily. She walked to the bathroom to pee and found Betty slumped around the toilet. She grabbed a bath sheet and clumsily covered the girl up. Then she went to the master bath to pee, then returned to the kitchen to grab a fresh bottle of Pellegrino water. She drank nearly a quart, before stopping, and opening a loaf of French bread. She pulled off a chunk and forced it down herself. She knew if she didn’t eat something to absorb some of the alcohol, she’d be in a world of hurt tomorrow. She pulled off another hunk of bread and ate it. Then she found an apple and ate that too. She returned to the living room, and looked around, no Veronica. She padded down the hallway back to the master bedroom and found her lying on the floor on the far side of the bed. She checked to make sure she was breathing, then pulled the duvet off the bed and over her new friend. She went back to the bathroom, checked to make sure Betty was breathing too, then she went to the guest room, flopped on the bed, and fell asleep.