Goddess and Miss Jasmine Pt. 04

Literotic asexstories – Goddess and Miss Jasmine Pt. 04 by CopyCat13,CopyCat13
I woke up the next morning cold, wet, naked, and sore all over. Sasha’s brutal kicks that I’d barely felt as I struggled to breath had blossomed into hideous bruises over night and sleeping in the shower stall certainly hadn’t helped matters. In retrospect, it’s surprising I didn’t get sick sleeping in the wet shower but overall I was just miserable.

I studied my reflection in the mirror and found myself covered in bruises. My arms and legs were a mottled mess of purple and my butt was practically black with bruises. My stomach just had one big bruise from Sasha’s initial punch. Only my face seemed to be free of her marks but even that seemed a bit redder than usual. Though I wasn’t sure if the color was from her slaps, my embarrassment, or just from being cold.

I wrapped myself in a towel to dry off and hopefully warm up a little but even the soft terry cloth towel seemed rough and inflamed my bruises.

I listened carefully at the bathroom door until I was sure Sasha wasn’t in our dorm-room before unlocking the door and emerging into our bedroom. My eyes were drawn to the dirty cock still sitting on my pillow and I nearly had a panic attack just looking at it. Suddenly the thought of staying in that room terrified and repulsed me so I quickly grabbed some clothes and pulled them on ignoring the pain as the cloth rubbed against my skin. I hardly paid any attention to what I was putting on other than to make sure it covered my bruises.

I practically fled the room, I was so desperate to get away.

I aimlessly wandered about campus for a long time with my head down not talking to anyone as I tried to come to terms with what had happened the night before. I was too full of nervous energy to stop or sit still and honestly, I think tiring myself out from hours of walking is what kept me focused enough to not have a complete breakdown. I don’t know how long exactly but it was several hours at least.

It was afternoon when suddenly I saw one of the emergency call buttons scattered around campus. I’d seen them every day since moving into the dorm and must have passed it a hundred times in my wandering but suddenly it gave me an idea. Go to security and tell them what happened!

I know that would have been the first thought of any objective observer, but I was just so traumatized that it took my brain hours to come up with the solution it would normally reach in seconds. It may seem like a pathetic excuse, but please understand, my brain couldn’t handle the reality of what had happened to me and it coped with the trauma by basically shutting down. I suppose it’s better than the alternative: going insane.

I’d never been to the security office before but luckily there was a helpful map posted next to the button that pointed it out. I hurried to the office and when I arrived, I found a bored looking woman in a security uniform sitting at the front desk. She barely even glanced at me as she asked what I wanted.

I just kinda froze up at her question. I didn’t know how to explain. Finally, she looked up from her computer and saw how scared I was and asked again in a gentler tone. I managed to stammer that I’d been assaulted and wanted to file charges.

The guard seemed a lot more sympathetic once she knew I had a real problem instead of a petty complaint and she asked if I had any marks or bruises. I nodded my head and she said to follow her.

She brought me to a small room with a camera pointed to a wall with height marks on it. It looked like a place they’d take mugshots and for a moment I was irrationally afraid I was being arrested. The guard told me it was important to document everything because the marks might have faded before a court date and we’d want proof to put my attacker behind bars. She asked where the marks were and I told her they were all over.

I started crying as the guard told me I’d have to strip so she could take pictures and document all the marks. I was scared and humiliated all over again, but the guard was nothing but kind and supportive. She kept up a running commentary of positivity and encouragement as I stripped down to my bra and panties. She told me to stand against the wall as she snapped a few pictures before having me turn so she could get me from every angle.

Then she handed me a ruler and said she needed close-ups of my bruises with the ruler to show their size. It seemed to take forever as she took hundreds of photos of me as evidence. And then, just as I thought we were done, she told me we’d come to the hard part. She could see more marks mostly covered by my underwear and she needed me to get fully naked now so she could document those.

It was too much. After every other humiliation and abuse I’d suffered, losing my last scrap of dignity in front of this stranger was just too much. I sobbed and told her I couldn’t, but she insisted that I HAD to.

I told her I’d changed my mind and didn’t want to file a report anymore and just wanted to leave but she stopped me. She kept saying I was doing the right thing and just had to be brave and keep pressing forward if I wanted justice. If I left now, my attacker would get away with it and hurt me again or move on to other people. I’m ashamed to admit that the idea of Sasha moving on to other people didn’t sound too bad to me as long as she left me alone.

I tried walking away from the guard back to the pile of my clothes but was brought up short when she grabbed my bra-strap and pulled me back. She said she was sorry but that it was for my own good and that I’d thank her one day. I struggled and screamed as the guard pulled my last of my clothing off and pinned me down so she could document the marks on my butt and boobs.

I was a sobbing wreck on the floor as she released me. She brought me my clothes and laid them next to me telling me to take as long as I needed to compose myself and to come find her at the front desk when I was ready to continue.

I don’t know how long it took me to cry myself out, but I finally managed to convince myself that the guard knew best. She’d obviously done this before and knew what she was doing. I convinced myself she was just using tough love and that I needed to just push through the process and endure the humiliation like she said if I ever wanted to get closure.

I slowly got dressed and wiped my face and went back out to find the guard. She smiled when she saw me and asked if I’d put on my big-girl panties and was ready to continue. I know she meant well but her condescending language still gets to me even 20 years later as I write this.              

I told her I was and she guided me to another room, this one had a small table and a couple chairs. She handed me a pad of paper and told me to write out everything that had happened in as much detail as possible. She warned me that if I left anything out and remembered it later, it’d be hard to convince a judge I wasn’t just making it up. Then she left me to write.

My mind was suddenly as blank as the paper. I knew what had happened to me. I knew that I had to tell my story. I just didn’t know how to start it. How to translate all the pain and humiliation and suffering into words that others could understand. Just saying I’d been beaten and raped sounded so… tame by comparison to what I’d experienced. These words like “rape” which had seemed so powerful and terrible before now seemed more like a polite euphemism for what had happened to me. But if words like “rape” weren’t enough, then what could I actually write?

The guard came back after a few minutes to check on my progress and got annoyed when she saw me staring at a blank page. She asked what was wrong and I truthfully told her I didn’t know what to say. She told me that I just had to write what happened and if I wasn’t going to take this seriously then I should stop wasting her time.

I was shocked! She’d seen my bruises! She knew what had happened to me in general even if she didn’t know the details so why was she suddenly getting so aggressive? I started crying again. It seemed like crying was all I did anymore.

The guard just sighed and said I obviously wasn’t ready for this yet. She told me to leave and come back once I’d found my big-girl panties (I hate that phrase) and was ready to deal with it like an adult. She assured me that she’d hold onto the pictures so we wouldn’t have to do that part again unless I got new injuries before coming back.

I left the security office with my head hung, ashamed of my own weakness. Why couldn’t I just say what happened? I’d already lived it, surely talking about it couldn’t be nearly as bad as experiencing it. If I just put pen to paper, Sasha would go to jail and I’d be free. By walking away, I was just giving her the opportunity to do it again. In that moment, I hated myself almost as much as I hated Sasha.

I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it, but I was resolved to do something about it so I went straight from the security office to the housing office where I found a bored upperclassman lounging at the desk. He was obviously some sort of work study and couldn’t care less about actually helping me.

I told him I needed to change rooms and he asked why. I just told him I couldn’t live with my roommate anymore thinking that might be enough but he just smirked and told me I was a big-girl now and needed to learn to work things out with my roommate like a grown-up. I wanted to stand there and argue until he agreed to give me a new room but I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell him the truth anymore than I’d been able to write it out.

I was out of options.

I returned to my room and thankfully found it empty. It had been an emotionally exhausting afternoon and I hadn’t exactly gotten much sleep in the shower the night before so I was ready to sleep.

I came up short though when I found Sasha’s dirty strap-on sitting on my pillow where she’d left it the night before. I’d forgotten about it but now I had to deal with it if I wanted to sleep.

I approached it cautiously as if it might suddenly turn into a snake and tentatively picked it up with 2 fingers. I considered throwing it on Sasha’s bed but knew that would just piss her off so instead I brought it to the bathroom and thoroughly cleaned it in the sink. I don’t know why I didn’t just toss it on the floor or in the trash but instinctively I seemed to know that cleaning it was the best thing to do.

I left it sitting on a towel on the vanity to dry before finally falling into my bed. It didn’t occur to me to even flip the pillow before laying my head on it and by the time I thought of it, it seemed too late to actually matter. Even flipping a pillow seem like too much effort as I drifted off to sleep.

I couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few minutes though before I was yanked out of bed by my hair. I screamed and struggled but was too disorientated to actually realize what was going on until Sasha had dragged me into the bathroom.

Sasha put me on my knees looking up at her as she demanded to know why I’d locked her out of the bathroom that morning. She’d had to use the disgusting public bathroom instead and hadn’t been able to brush her teeth at all. The real reason I’d done it was obvious but I didn’t think she’d like that explanation so I stammered something incoherent. Honestly it hadn’t even occurred to me that locking myself in the bathroom to get away from her the night before would mean that she couldn’t get in to use the bathroom in the morning.

Sasha wasn’t happy and I knew I was going to be punished so when she pulled down her pants and underwear I thought she was going to make me eat her out again. I started to cry but she told me to quit my whining and amazingly I was actually able to stop. I guess my body was obeying her even while my mind still wanted to resist.

But instead of pulling me in to lick her, she sat back on the toilet and I was treated to a front row viewing of her peeing. It was gross but after everything else that had happened it didn’t even phase me. At least it didn’t until she finished and told me to clean her up.

I reached for the toilet paper but she smacked my hand away and told me to use my tongue and lick her clean. It was horrifying but Sasha had already made it abundantly clear that resistance was futile. The only thing trying to get out of it would accomplish would be to earn me a few more bruises so despite my revulsion, I bent forward and tentatively licked the bitter little droplets away from Sasha’s pissy pussy.

When I was sure I’d cleaned her, I leaned back and looked up at her. She called me a good girl and said I was finally learning my place. I felt a warm glow of pride at her words and hated myself more than ever because of it.

As Sasha pulled her pants up, I thought we were done but before I knew it, she grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face into the toilet. I fought desperately but I had no leverage and she was just too strong. I panicked and yelled as my face hit the water so I was out of air and had a mouthful of piss-water right from the first moment.

Sasha held me there for so long that my mind was going fuzzy from lack of oxygen. I was fully convinced I was about to drown in my roommate’s golden piss when finally, blessedly, Sasha pulled the flush and I was able to grab a quick breath as the water rushed down the drain.

The bowl refilled far quicker than I’d have liked but at least my lungs were filled this time. I heard Sasha joke about rinsing the piss out of my hair as she flushed a few more times before finally letting me up.

I knelt in front of the toilet coughing and gasping for air but Sasha wasn’t going to give me time to really recover. She told me I had 3 minutes to clean myself up because we were going out for the evening and she wanted me presentable. On her way out, she casually mentioned that if I ever locked her bathroom door again, she’d make sure I drank nothing but piss for the rest of the semester. There was no doubt in my mind she meant it.

With only 3 minutes, I didn’t have time for a shower or really to get ready so I focused on the biggest issue. I stuck my head under the sink’s faucet and tried to rinse the piss out of my hair. When I estimated I’d done that for about 2 minutes, I started running a brush through my tangled hair. There was no time for make-up or styling. I was just hoping to not smell like piss and for relatively knot-free hair.

Sasha opened the bathroom door and pulled me out saying my time was up. My top was soaked so she tossed me a sweater and told me to change. As I did so, I caught my reflection in the mirror. The green sweater and nice jeans actually looked pretty good on me and hid all my bruises. To anyone who didn’t know what I’d been through, it looked like I was a pretty 18-year-old who just stepped out of the shower.

“Let’s go,” she said and grabbed me by the arm dragging me out of our room.

Sasha locked elbows with me as she guided me to our destination. Anyone else would see a pair of friends walking together but in reality she had a firm grip on me so I couldn’t run away. As we walked, I realized that it was later than I thought, it was already sunset. I wasn’t sure if I’d spent longer in the security office than I thought or if I’d slept longer than I thought but either way, one thing was clear: I hadn’t eaten all day and I was starving.

I timidly asked Sasha where we were going and if we could stop by the dining hall on the way but she just laughed at that saying it was probably better if I didn’t eat.

Sasha led me to Greek Row and we arrived just as the sunset finally faded from the sky. I guess they took sunset to be some sort of signal to start because as we walked down the road, it seemed like every house was starting a party. I could hear music turning on from every house. Lights were coming on and kegs seemed to pop out like garden sprinklers.

It really was interesting seeing the whole street transform in a few minutes like that though of course I was rather distracted and couldn’t appreciate it at the time.

I’m not sure if Sasha had a destination when we left our dorm room or if she picked a house at random, but she guided me up the steps to a house a greeted the black man standing at the door. He smiled and told us to go right in. “Ladies drink for free,” he assured us.

And true to his word, almost as soon as we walked in, we were each handed a solo cup of beer. Sasha told me to drink up saying it would help. Silly me, I thought by help she meant help fill my belly and make me less hungry. I didn’t realize she meant that the alcohol would help me get through what she had in mind for me.

I drained the first cup in just a few minutes and nearly puked it up right after. I’d never had more than a sip of beer at a time before. It was so nasty! And on an empty stomach, I could feel it’s effects right away. But before I’d even stopped gagging on that first cup, Sasha handed me hers and told me to drink up. When I hesitated, she looked me right in the eye and told me that I’d want to be drunk as soon as possible. “It’s gonna happen either way, so you may as well be too drunk to remember it.”

I was too scared to ask what “it” was but I believed her that I wouldn’t want to remember “it” so I drained her beer as well and reached for a third.

Most of the rest of the night is a bit blurry. I remember going for another beer (I think my fourth but it could easily have been my fifth) and turning around to find Sasha gone. I had a moment of panic realizing I was drunk and alone before thinking that I had a chance to escape. Both those thoughts were quickly overshadowed though by the realization that I had to pee REALLY badly.

I don’t remember finding a bathroom, but I do remember standing in front of the mirror swaying and trying to focus on my own reflection. It was trippy and I felt warm and just generally good. I realized that I liked feeling drunk and started to wonder why I’d never done this before.

As soon as I left the bathroom, Sasha found me. She was with a black guy but I couldn’t get my eyes to focus enough to see what he looked like. He’s just a vaguely human-shaped blur in my memory. I do remember Sasha handing me yet another cup. I looked in it and thought it was water because it was clear. And probably because I was too drunk to think it could be anything else.

The burn in my throat and my subsequent coughing fit proved that wrong, but it clearly had the intended effect and that’s my last memory for a while.

The very next thing I remember is being on my hands and knees dry-heaving into a bucket. The bucket was full of… well I’ll leave that to your imagination. Suffice it to say, my stomach felt about a gallon emptier.

I heard a conversation behind me and looked back to see a guy (I assume the same one from before my black-out) talking to Sasha by the door. He handed her some money and walked away.

I started to get my bearings and realized I must be in one of the frat house’s bedrooms but had no idea how I’d gotten there or why I was there.

Sasha smiled at me holding up the cash the guy had given her and said something along the lines of “See? That wasn’t so bad.” I didn’t know what she was talking about. I thought she meant puking but that didn’t make any sense. Why would a guy pay her for me puking? Then she said something that made me feel cold all over…

She said that guy had the biggest cock she’d ever seen in person and it was no wonder I was puking after swallowing that monster. I was horrified! While black-out drunk, apparently, I’d sucked a stranger’s dick! And he’d paid my roommate to do it!

The reality of the situation came crashing down on me. I wasn’t just a rape victim anymore. I wasn’t just a weakling too scared to stand up to her roommate. Now I was a slut. A whore. A prostitute.

It didn’t occur to me until much later, but that was the first money I’d ever earned. My parents gave me an allowance, but they’d always wanted me to focus on school and never let me get a job. Not even babysitting. So, sucking a stranger’s dick in a dirty frat house was the first time I’d actually EARNED any money. And I didn’t even get to keep any of it. How pathetic is that?

I remember being surprised that I wasn’t crying. I guess I was in so much shock that I was having some sort of out-of-body experience because it just didn’t seem real.

Sasha handed me a cup and I didn’t care what might be in it. I just hoped it would be strong enough to make me black-out again so I wouldn’t have to think anymore. But before I could take a drink, she stopped me. She looked me right in the eye and told me I was not to swallow it, just rinse my mouth out and spit it in the bucket.

I did as I was told. I was far too disoriented to notice, but in retrospect it’s obvious that Sasha already had a level of control over me that I could scarcely imagine. Despite my drunkenness and self-loathing over what I’d just done, it never even occurred to me to disobey her.

Once she was satisfied that my mouth was clean enough, she gave me permission to finish the drink. Sasha took me by the arm, half escorting, half supporting me out of the room and back into the main part of the party.

She guided me around and I was half-aware that she was showing off her whore to prospective clients but all I cared about was getting back to black-out. Puking up all that beer had sobered me up too much and I couldn’t face the prospect of getting pimped out again without some liquid courage.

I don’t think Sasha did it intentionally but as she guided me around the room she somehow always seemed to keep me out of arm’s reach of another drink. She’d said drinking would help so it must have been accidental but within a few minutes I was desperate for a drink to numb the reality around me.

Finally, Sasha seemed to notice my fidgeting and grabbed me a shot of something. Luckily, I was a lightweight and still decently drunk so that shot was enough to calm me down even if it didn’t let me black-out like I wanted.

I found myself unable to focus my eyes on the black couple talking to Sasha. The only part of the conversation that pierced my drunken haze was her offering me to the two of them for $75 as a “group rate”.

Before I knew what was happening, I found myself back in that disgusting bedroom once again. Someone (a pledge I assume) had removed my puke bucket but the smell lingered.

I guess my clients didn’t like me wrinkling my nose at the smell because the woman slapped me hard on my already bruised ass and told me to strip. I was so broken down and drunk by then that I didn’t even try to protest and just did as I was told, stripping down until I was completely naked in front of these two strangers.

They inspected me making all sorts of disparaging comments about my body and the marks covering it. Under normal circumstances, I probably would have been sobbing from that alone, but I was too dissociated to care.

I was a little surprised to see the man pull out a condom. I didn’t think the degenerates who’d pay to rape me would care about protection like that. But even as I was thinking about that, I realized that the couple might not even know they were about to rape me. Sasha had given them a price and I’d just stood there without objecting, then I’d followed them into a bedroom and stripped for them. They probably thought I was a willing slut for their games.

I started to say something, to explain that this was all a huge mistake but before I could finish a sentence, the woman smacked my ass again and told me to shut up. She told me I was there to fuck, not talk.

The woman sat on the bed with her back to the wall and her legs spread. Some detached part of my mind noted that she hadn’t taken any clothes off. She’d hiked her skirt up and pulled her panties to the side but she was still fully dressed while her boyfriend and I were completely naked. Even now, I’m not entirely sure if that was some sort of power-play or just a bit odd.

She snapped her fingers and pointed to her crotch expectantly. I knew what she wanted… and I knew that eating her would leave me bent over and vulnerable to her boyfriend. When I hesitated though, she got mad and said if I didn’t hurry up, she’d tell Sasha I wasn’t satisfying my customers.

Fear of my roommate overcame my revulsion at the act and I bent over the bed to start licking.

She was gross. I don’t know how else to describe her. Hers was only the second pussy I’d ever had near my face, but I could tell right away that I preferred Sasha’s over this black bitch’s. Maybe she was just sweaty from dancing at the party or maybe she hadn’t bathed in a while, but it reeked. She obviously hadn’t groomed herself in a while either as I ended up with a mouthful of her pubes. I struggled to even find her pussy under all that thick sweaty hair. And when I finally did, the taste! It was like rotting garbage! It was horrible!

I’d hated being forced to lick Sasha but at least she kept herself clean and well groomed. If someone had asked me when I entered the room if I’d ever miss having my face forced into my roommate’s crotch, I would have said “hell no!” but just a few seconds with this stranger was making me nostalgic for Sasha.

It came as a welcome distraction when I felt her boyfriend start pressing his member into my sphincter. It was my first experience feeling a condom and I was surprised at how much less painful the lubricated latex made anal. To be fair, he wasn’t as big as Sasha’s strap-on had been, but it was still about 10 times easier for me. Honestly, under other circumstances I think I might have even enjoyed taking his cock. If my face hadn’t been buried in his girlfriend’s nasty cooch, I think I could have gotten into it. For a moment, I even forgot that he was raping me.

The two of them were dirty talking to each other about how much they loved each other and what a nasty little slut I was for them to use. I’m sure their dirty talk did a lot more for her than my tongue did because despite my inexperience and utter revulsion, she came all over my face pretty quickly.

She didn’t let me go, though. She held me in place by my hair while her boyfriend kept fucking my ass. The smell of her nasty cunt was getting to me and I was mainly focused on not puking all over her when I felt him…

Lily’s hands froze over the keyboard as her phone buzzed. She’d been so caught up in writing that she’d forgotten about the present. She looked at her phone and saw that it was her husband calling and that it was already 5 o’clock in the evening.

“Hello?” Lily answered.

“Hey there sleepy-head, hope I didn’t wake you. If you’re feeling up to it, I thought we’d go out for dinner tonight. What do you think?”

Lily realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and had drained 2 full bottles of wine since then and decided a dinner break sounded like a good idea. “Sounds good. Where were you thinking?”

“How about that little Italian place that just opened on market street? It looked pretty good from the outside.”

“Great! I could eat all the pasta in Italy right now,” Lily laughed. “Are you on your way? I’ll need to get dressed.”

“I’m about 15 minutes out. Does that give you enough time?”

“Yep! I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

As Lily hung up, she looked at her computer and saw that despite only writing about her first 2 days of enslavement, she’d already filled 13 pages. A 50-page essay had sounded daunting at first but now she wondered if she’d be able to cram so much experience into so few pages.

Lily saved her progress and closed her laptop then quickly got dressed in simple jeans and a green sweater. Only when she saw her reflection in the mirror did she realize how similar it was to the outfit she’d worn her first night as Goddess’ whore. Fuck. Writing all that out is stirring up some crazy emotions! I’ve worn this a hundred times and without thinking about that night but now it’s all I can think about!

Part of Lily wanted to change outfit, but another part told her that was a stupid idea. The Joneses already had so much control over her, letting a 20-year-old memory dictate her wardrobe would just be one more victory for them and one more defeat for her. She had to stand her ground on this one… even if no one else knew or cared about it.

As Lily got into the car when her husband got home, she felt proud of herself for standing up to the memory of her roommate’s abuse by not changing her clothes, but at the same time felt humiliated about feeling proud over something so insignificant. If I don’t figure something out soon, she thought, I’m gonna go completely insane!

Lily closed her eyes and tried meditating during the drive to the restaurant. She didn’t meditate often but she hoped it might bring her a little inner peace. At least enough for her to get through dinner without turning into a raving lunatic. It even seemed to work and Lily was feeling a lot calmer as she exited the car and walked towards the entrance until…

“Oh, hey Ms. Sawyer! Nice to see you again! Table for two?”

Lily was shocked to see Padma, one of her former students acting as hostess for the restaurant. Padma had graduated as valedictorian a few years ago making her about 21 in Lily’s estimation and she stood out as one of only 3 Indian students she’d taught in her time at Lincoln Prep. Padma had been bright and outgoing as well as quite beautiful. Lily had no doubt that her bright smile would earn Padma generous tips from all her customers…

What the fuck are you doing?!? Lily’s rational mind furiously admonished her, Padma is your student! Or at least she was! What sort of monster thinks about how hot her student is? Besides, you’re straight, remember? You only did all those disgusting things with women because you were forced! You’re a good, straight woman who’s LOYAL to her husband and will NOT be thinking of your students like that. Especially the female ones!

But as Padma turned to lead them to their table, Lily found herself staring at her former student’s ass and idly wonder what she might taste like. I’ve never tried Indian pussy before. I wonder if all those exotic spices she eats makes her pussy taste spicy… supposedly pineapple makes guys taste better but I’ve never heard of spices doing it. Then again, it makes sense that eating different foods would affect the body chemistry and produce different tastes…

No! Stop it! Her rational mind interrupted her horny side, she’s a person! Not something for you to ogle and fantasize about! Not some ice cream cone for you to lick and sample to your heart’s content!

Padma sat them at a table as the two parts of Lily’s mind vied for dominance. “Here are your menus, can I get you some waters to get started? Or maybe some wine?”

“Oh, are you a waitress too? I thought you were the hostess,” Lily said hoping the beautiful desi would go away and give her some space to think.

“Actually I’m the owner but I like to help out where I can,” Padma told her.

“Oh, um, OK. Just water for me.”

Owner? Fuck! Why is that word such a trigger for me all of a sudden?!? Padma’s is nothing like the Joneses. She’s sweet and kind. If I had to have an Owner I wish it was someone like her.

NO! Fuck! Stop! What are you thinking. You don’t want an Owner! You are a free woman!

“Me too,” her husband said oblivious to Lily’s internal torment. She felt a flash of anger seeing her husband check out the waitress as she walked away. Why should he get to openly check her out? Why is it OK for men to look, but I’d be labeled a freak for checking out a hot young piece of ass?!?

Lily took a deep breath to calm herself as she began looking over the menu. Maybe once she had some food in her belly to soak up the wine sloshing around in there she’d be able to think a little more clearly.

Padma returned a minute later with a couple waters, “Are you guys ready to order?”

“Yeah, I’ll have the eggplant Parmesan, please,” her husband ordered.

“And I’ll have the, ummm, lets go with the crispy chicken Alfredo,” Lily asked for.

“OK, that’s an eggplant parm and a grilled chicken Alfredo, coming right up.”

“Wait, no, I wanted the crispy chicken Alfredo.”

Padma gave her a look that turned Lily’s insides to mush, “You may think you want the crispy chicken but I know what you really need. Trust me,” she finished with a wink and walked away.

“What was that about?” her husband asked once Padma was out of earshot.

“I… I’m not sure… but I’ll trust her judgment on this. She’s the Owner after all. I’m sure she knows what’s best,” Lily couldn’t help but cringe as she heard the capital O in her tone. She just hoped her husband didn’t hear it, too.

Maybe she’s a bit more like the Joneses than I thought. She was never that forceful or confident back in high school. She must have changed in college.

They got their food without further incident and Lily was happy to admit that the grilled chicken Alfredo was absolutely delicious. She briefly wondered if the crispy chicken might not be better, but quickly put that out of her mind. Padma wouldn’t steer her wrong about the food in her own restaurant.

But as the food soaked up the alcohol in her belly and Lily was able to think a little more clearly, she realized how strange it was that Padma owned this restaurant in the first place. She couldn’t remember Padma ever expressing interest in cooking or hospitality. And unless Lily’s sense of time was off, Padma should still be in college. There’s no way she has time to study and run a restaurant! I hope she didn’t drop out.

Once Lily had eaten her fill and Padma returned to collect their plates and drop off the check, Lily asked, “So what have you been up to since you graduated?”

“Well, long story short, I graduated college last year and…”

“Last year?!? It can’t have been that long since I had you in class.”

“Don’t interrupt,” Padma said sharply. “Now as I was saying, I graduated last year after two and a half years in college and started looking for a job. The job market sucked though, and no company was willing to pay me what I’m worth, so I decided to go into business for myself. During college, I became a bit of a foodie eating at all the wonderful places in New York and when I remembered how boring the restaurant scene was around here, I thought it was the perfect business for me to start. I spent almost a year getting this place set up and we opened a couple weeks ago.”

“What? But that… where did you find the money? I hope you didn’t put yourself into too much debt.”

Padma laughed, “No, of course I didn’t take out any loans. I just convinced some people to give me the money.”

“Investors?”

“I guess you could call them that, though I made sure they aren’t entitled to any of the profits. Actually you may know a few of them. Your boss, principal Andrews and Karen Matthews each gave me a chunk of my start-up capital. You remember Karen, right? She was Lisa’s mom and head of the PTA. And speaking of which, Lisa works in the kitchen. She washes dishes.”

“How did you convince…”

“Oh sorry Ms. Sawyer, I can’t chat anymore. As an Owner I always have fires to put out. If you wanna know more I guess you’ll just have to come in for dinner again.”

Before Lily could reply, Padma was off.

Lily could hardly believe what Padma had just told her. She remembered Lisa as being one of the brightest and most ambitious students she’d ever taught. She and Padma had been neck and neck in the race for valedictorian and she was pretty sure Lisa had gotten a full scholarship to Princeton. What the hell was she doing washing dishes?

And Karen Matthews invested? That didn’t make sense either. Karen had been the tyrant of the PTA the entire time her daughter was in school. She was angry and arrogant and expected to have her way in any and all situations. Lily remembered Karen weaponizing the PTA against Padma to try to win her daughter the valedictorian role. And she suspected Karen was the type to hold a grudge. Padma would be the last person on Earth Karen Matthews would want to help.

Something very strange was going on and despite her curiosity, Lily had enough strangeness and uncertainty in her life at the moment. She wasn’t going to start pulling on threads and make her life any more complicated.

Her husband paid the bill leaving a generous tip and Lily dropped an additional twenty on the table for her former student on the way out.

Her husband talked throughout the drive home while Lily made monosyllabic responses and when they pulled into their driveway, she realized she couldn’t recall a single word he’d said. Lily said she was still tired and was going to head up to bed and asked him to sleep in the guest room so he wouldn’t wake her up when he came up to bed. She could see he was a bit hurt by her request, but after the day she’d had Lily just didn’t have the emotional capacity to care.

She went up to the master bathroom to wash her face and get ready for bed. Lily was just finishing up her nightly routine when she decided she had better reapply lotion to the waxed areas. Her skin wasn’t too irritated yet, but she knew that by morning her skin would feel like it was on fire if she didn’t get ahead of it.

She started at her ankles and slowly worked her way up her legs, as she did, she noticed that it didn’t feel quite as good as it had when Maid rubbed it in that morning. Obviously, it was a lot less humiliating to do it herself rather than have a stranger rub her while she was tied to a bed but still… maybe I should ask my husband to do it for me? Maybe just having someone else…

NO! What are you thinking? Obviously you can’t ask him that! He’d ask questions and you’d have to tell him you’d gotten waxed. He’d ask why and when and you’d either have to lie about getting waxed while “out with a friend” or tell him the truth. And both those options are terrible! It’d only be a matter of time before the whole story came out!

OK, OK I understand. I won’t ask him… but what if Padma did it instead? Sweet, beautiful Padma’s hands would probably feel a million times better than Maid’s had rubbing her legs…

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the “A” icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Fuck! Lily thought abruptly breaking free from her fantasy as she realized she’d slipped a finger into her pussy and started playing with herself to the thought of her former student giving her an intimate massage. And even worse, she recognized that she’d already taken it too far to stop. She was too worked up to sleep now unless she finished.

Lily exited the bathroom into her bedroom and double checked that the door was closed before she opened the drawer on her bedside table and retrieved her toy. The cheap, purple vibrator was nowhere near as fancy or exotic as some of the things she’d seen online but it had always gotten the job done for her when her husband wasn’t up to the task.

Lily started teasing her lips with it on the lowest setting as she closed her eyes and pictured Padma’s beautiful smile.

So beautiful and kind. If Miss Padma were my Owners, she’d never abuse me like the Joneses did. If she ever did hurt me, I know it’d just be for my own good. Punishment for displeasing her or maybe a little pain to make the pleasure seem even more intense. Never pain just to intimidate me or amuse herself. And Miss Padma wouldn’t share me with anyone. I’d be her own personal slave used exclusively for her pleasure. She’d never whore me out for money… well, not unless she really wanted to. But if she did, she’d be a lot more discriminating picking my clients than Goddess was back in college.

Lily slowly started working the vibrator into her pussy still on its lowest setting.

I could tell my husband I forgot something at the restaurant and go back to get it. He’d be so engrossed in whatever he’s watching on TV that he wouldn’t notice if I were gone 3 minutes or 3 hours. I’d pull into the restaurant parking lot to find it almost empty as they closed up. I’d be stopped at the door by a hostess telling me they’re closed but Padma would see me and invite me in. I’d tell her I forgot my purse and just needed to look for it.

We wouldn’t find it of course since it’s safely in my room but I’d be so thankful to Padma and her staff for helping me look that I’d volunteer to help them clean up and close. Padma would get a knowing look in her eye and dismiss her staff. They’d be confused but too happy about getting to leave early to care. Once they’re all gone, Padma would tell me she has to count the money and that she expects the dining room cleaned and spotless by the time she gets done.

I’d get right to work cleaning everything to prove my value to Padma. I’d work harder than all her employees combined and have the dining room spotless in no time. Padma would come out of her office and be impressed at how good a worker I am. She’d chuckle and tell me I did a great and ask if I wanted a job. She’d be joking, but I’d take it seriously telling her that there was a job I’d love to do for her.

Lily turned up the intensity of the vibrations as she continued fucking herself and started using her free hand to rub her clit.

Padma would act confused for a moment and ask why I’d want to give up teaching to work at a restaurant, but I’d tell her that wasn’t what I’d meant. She’d smile and say she knew but wanted to hear me say it. I’d tell her I wanted to serve her. To do anything and everything to bring her pleasure. To devote myself entirely to her. To be her slave.

She’d smile and push me to my knees telling me to prove it. I’d fumble with her belt in my eagerness to get her pants off but once I succeeded I’d pause for a moment to bask in the radiance o her perfect pussy. Her bush would be neatly trimmed and silky smooth and she’d smell of cardamom and ginger despite having just worked all day. Padma was too perfect to ever smell sweaty or dirty.

Lily turned her toy to it’s highest setting and bit her lip to keep herself quiet.

I’d lean forward to take my first lick of her heavenly perfection and… and… OH FUCK!

Lily’s climax left her breathless and exhausted. I can’t believe I climaxed before I even got to the good part of my fantasy! I must be even more worked up than I thought! She turned off her vibrator and brought it to her mouth to suck clean. Maybe I’ll be able to pick up where I left off tomorrow.

Lily finished cleaning her toy and returned it to its place. She glanced at her pajamas lying in a pile on the floor where she’d left them the previous morning. Fuck has it only been that long? Really? But she decided it was too much effort to get dressed. She glanced down at the large wet spot she’d created and considered cleaning it up or at least moving but she was so exhausted that she fell asleep before reaching a decision.