My Sin, Lesbian BDSM

Chapter Four

I raped my best friend.

Mrs. Bowman was true to her word. She never mentioned my Valentine, but she was careful during the remaining weeks of the school year. She made certain that we were never alone together, and she didn’t pat me on the back to applaud my efforts on the basketball court anymore. I could detect no change in attitude from the other teachers. Even Miss Glen, the guidance counselor, didn’t seem to know exactly why she had been called to witness our conference. I think Mrs. Bowman only told her that we had a serious issue to discuss, and that a neutral party might need to intervene.

Mrs. Bowman had been gentle and considerate of my feelings, and logic told me that I could not have expected more from her, but I was an injured adolescent, rejected and sexually frustrated, and I nursed my bitterness. Mrs. Bowman was still the object of my masturbatory daydreams, but now they were more explicit and sadistic. I fantasized about ambushing her after school, waiting in the back seat of her car with a rag soaked in chloroform. (I had no idea where chloroform came from, or how it worked, but in our dreams, all things are possible.) I would drive her car to my secret hideout, where she would become my bound captive, enduring my vile attentions until she learned to crave them. I didn’t do any of those things, of course. I nursed my broken heart in silence, and after a time the pain grew less. I should have learned from it, but I had been in college less than a year before I had another crush.

Madison was my lab partner in chemistry class. Opposites attract, they say. She was outgoing, and I was reclusive. She was pretty and popular. I was a drab pariah. In high school, she had been a cheerleader and a prom queen. Her boy friend was in another college on the far side of the state. She was faithful to him – most of the time.

She attached herself to me because I could help her with her homework. I was too flattered by the attention to care. Our study sessions became the high point of my day, a chance to sit close and inhale her intoxicating scent. She probably thought that I went out with her in the evenings because I hoped to hook up with one of the boys who always flocked around her. In fact, I was restraining the urge to drive them off with a snarl.

One night we went to a fraternity mixer and had too much to drink. I turned down several offers of rides home, and managed to hustle Maddy out the door before she became sick or comatose. I carried her off to my apartment, literally. She leaned against me, singing a parody of the school fight song with obscene lyrics. Once she slithered out of my arms and crumpled to the sidewalk giggling, and it was all I could do to get her back on her feet.

“I guess you better call me a cab,” she mumbled, as I braced her against my doorway and fumbled for my key.

Okay, you’re a cab. I was remembering bad jokes in my confusion. Lust was like a fever in me.

“It’s all right,” I said. “You can stay with me.”

I don’t know how I got her up the stairs. Adrenaline must have been working for me, or lechery. I poured her into my bed.

“You will be more comfortable without these,” I said breathlessly, as I pulled off her shoes and socks.

“Ah!” she sighed, wiggling her bare toes. “You’re so good to me, Autumn!”

I should have left her there, with the sheet tucked under her chin and a stolen goodnight kiss on her cheek. I should have made up a pot of coffee for the morning and slept on the couch. I could plead drunken impulse, except that I had put fresh sheets on the bed before going out, and encouraged Maddy to have one more for the road. I could have sacrificed my lust on the altar of conscience one more time. Instead, I opened the button on her jeans and yanked down her zipper.

“Mmmm!” was all she said. She thought I was still seeing to her comfort, undressing her like a sleepy child. Even when I skinned her jeans and panties down in one rough motion, (Oh, glorious flesh!) she only wriggled her hips to assist me. Her eyes flew open when I straddled her hips and pulled her tee shirt up and off, bouncing her head on the pillow.

“Hey!” she drawled, “Easy!”

I ignored her, snaring the robe tie I had left beside the bed, (accident or plan?) And wrapping it around her wrists.

“Oh! Kinky stuff!” she giggled. Her voice rose to a tiny falsetto, “Rape! Rape!”

I silenced her with a kiss, smothering her with my open mouth as my hands worked on, lashing her to the bed frame and snugging the knots down hard. I began to bump and grind my pelvis against her belly.

I felt her stiffen against me as the seriousness of my intentions penetrated her drunken fog. She struggled briefly against her bindings, then seemed to relax when she realized that she was securely held. Maybe it was the insistent pressure of my lips, my tongue invading her mouth and distracting her, transforming nascent fear into sexual response. I felt her tongue, shy and uncertain at first, begin a dance with mine. I left a trail of kisses across her cheek and found the little hollow behind her ear that made her gasp and squirm when I teased it with the tip of my tongue.

It was a shock to her, I suppose. She was the uninhibited one. She thought she knew me, and never would have predicted that I could be so aggressive. I never let her see the volcanic lust that was bottled inside- until it erupted.

I broke off the kiss abruptly, rearing back to sit on my heels and regard her – naked, bound, mine. My butt cheeks did a little victory dance on Mount Venus.

She stared back, a little frightened. The geek girl she thought she understood completely had just turned into a savage succubus. She had heard plenty of lectures about date rape and betrayed trust, and was no doubt conjuring some alcohol fueled Hollywood slasher fantasy.

“Autumn?”

I couldn’t have this. I put a finger to her lips and made shushing sounds. “It’s all right. I won’t hurt you.”

She lay quietly watching me while I rolled off the bed and stripped for action. I gazed down at her like a cruel Goddess about to possess her tethered sacrifice. I shook out my hair and let it tumble over my eyes. Something very like a purr was rumbling in my throat.

“This is so wrong!” she pleaded. “We shouldn’t! Listen...”

She never finished that thought. I threw myself on her, gliding my naked flesh over hers, savoring the silken heat of skin against skin. My right hand insinuated itself between her thighs and sought the damp pubic nest. Her resistance was brief and half hearted. She tried to clamp her legs together, but my knees were already between hers. I thrust her thighs apart impatiently, spreading her and pinning her to the bed. My hand found what it had been seeking, burrowing into the soft folds of flesh to sink a rigid finger deep into her. She gasped and arched up to meet my hand as the finger rotated slowly within. Protests aside, she was gushing. I reached up with my left hand and found a nipple to work on. In a moment, I had it satisfactorily stiff.

“Oh you bitch!” She said it between her teeth, straining against her bonds, but her voice had grown husky, and I knew she didn’t really want me to stop. She only felt an obligation to resist me. Later she could tell herself that she had been bound and inebriated, unable to escape or control the situation.

“Just relax and let it happen,” I whispered. “No one is going to judge us here.”

I don’t think she was even hearing me anymore at this point. The finger inside her had been joined by a friend, and my thumb was gliding feather light over her magic button. In a matter of moments I had her snorting like a mare, speaking in tongues, and gargling blasphemies.

Discovering that I could reduce another woman to a gibbering ruin was a gratifying surprise for me. It had never occurred to me that another girl’s self control might be so easily breeched. The scent of power was sharp and intoxicating. Its taste quickened my appetite.

Veins stood out on her forehead when she came. Her breasts flushed scarlet. Transformed by lust, her face became a blank mask, mute and blind to me, reacting only to my touch. This moment, which should have been sublimely connecting, left me with an odd sort of detachment. Looking down at my beloved, I saw only a useful stranger, a female animal with responses that I might kindle or subdue at will.

I wasn’t finished with her yet. It was for me to say when enough was enough. She wailed a protest when I hoisted her knees even higher and buried my face between them to feed.

“Please! Just give me a minute to catch my breath! Just give me... Ohhh!”

Her voice trailed off into sounds I cannot describe. Perhaps she had never been taken by someone so wise to the needs of another woman. Maybe she had discovered an unsuspected capacity for enjoying submission. On the other hand, she may have simply been easy. All I knew was that her appreciation of my efforts was rewarding and unmistakable. Come what may, she would never forget this night.

My tongue was busy, rolling her clit and darting into the sweet portal below. I felt her twitching again, as I discovered new places to excite. Her hands were straining against her restraints. If she had been free, would she have drawn me in, or pushed me away? I don’t know if it was a question even she could have answered. I spared her from that decision.

All too soon, she was writhing again. Her second climax was more intense, and seemed to drain the energy from both of us. I rested my head on her sweating belly as I reached up to loosen the knot in the robe tie. Her hands collapsed...