The Promise: a kinky lesbian sexy story
It had started as any other, ordinary Friday. Ok, not entirely ordinary, their friend was visiting for the weekend after much excited chatter on Twitter. But still, she never imagined it could have ended like this.
The day had passed in a blur of friends getting to know one another, her girlfriend and her Twitter friend talking animatedly about a shared interest in design, shoes, talkative mothers and whether cake is really all that bad. She watched from the sidelines, interjecting when polite, with what she thought were witty observations and intelligent banter.
Day turned to evening and a meal was to be prepared. The local farm shop supplied plenty of delicious, organic and she had to face it, middle-class treats such as locally reared meats, mellow and rich mead and fresh groceries. They travelled together in the (also quite middle class) 4×4 and enjoyed perusing and purchasing all manner of items for the shared feast.
Back home though, her girlfriend has turned to her with a positively devilish look upon her face and a worrying glint in her eye. Motioning her closer, she whispered her desire.
“Go upstairs and put it on. Like we discussed. Now.”
Gulping and blinking back in shock, she couldn’t respond with anything more than a nod. How could she? She’d made the promise – yes, admittedly when tipsy – a couple of weeks ago, that she’d do this whenever it was asked of her. Without question.
Without question. Oh god, what had she left herself in for?
Of course, said Twitter-friend was none the wiser and would never be, as long as she could just retain control of herself. She laughed inwardly. Right. Control. No, she didn’t think she really had that anymore. Not like this.
The plug was one of a kind; made especially for her. After so many years dealing with sexual products, she knew what worked – the shape, the size, the materials.
An exquisite clear glass anal plug made from thick, shatterproof borosilicate glass. An ordinary glass plug? Not this one. A slender hollow tube from the flat flared base to the centre of the bulbous plug, housed a powerful vibrating bullet. Rechargeable, it charged up via magnetic metal points at the base, part of the circular disc base of the plug itself. Entirely waterproof, rechargeable, glass and… here was the kicker – remotely controlled.
She was in her lady’s en-suite now, where the plug lay, fully charged. The smooth, discreet controller lay by the side of it. She knew what she had to do.
Cold lubricant from the vast array of bottles was her next step. Removing her jeans and knickers she slathered some of the clear gel around her entrance, and a little on the plug. Sliding the plug home she shivered, both with anticipation and with lust.
Not only was the plug large, smooth and amazing to use; she knew how much her girl loved to torment her with the various vibrating patterns. Keeping her (sometimes literally) on her toes, never knowing if she’d choose to keep it on a constant low murmur, or switch to a high, rapid pulse. The vibrations were pretty near silent of course – but there was the added worry that someone would hear a faint whisper of something… she was blushing scarlet already.
One more step – then she’d be obediently complete. Clothes put back on and she made her way down to the table where the feast lay, spread out.
Her lady smiled at her.
Such an innocent question. Such depraved meaning. Had she done it, she meant. Was she obedient. Did she have everything, as arranged.
“Yes… fine thanks.”
A breathy finish to the sentence, if just about steady enough not to arouse suspicion. She leaned in to her girl, an affectionate peck on the lips, while below that, a not so innocent exchange between hands. The items slipped to her. Fate sealed, job done.
What else would the night hold? Oh much fun. Especially for her. Looking at her now, talking once more with Twitter-friend, she realised how much she loved her. And hated her. All at once. Doing this to her, removing her control, heightening her passion, her lust, her arousal.
Her blood heated. So did her clitoris, as it engorged and pulsed with need. Already.
It didn’t help to know how much she loved keeping her stuffed full, while leaving her pussy for her alone. Later. Maybe, if she was good. Oh how it ached. Throbbed to feel her fingers, tongue, teeth… No, stop. She couldn’t carry on thinking like that.
Especially not with the chastity belt locked on over the top, the replacement to her sodden knickers left upstairs on the bathroom floor…
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