Twenty Years to Life Ch. 01

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About four hours later . . .

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Torrie was more than a little nervous. She was standing outside, smoking an unfiltered Camel and waiting for Isabel to show up. Just as requested, she was waiting for Isabel. Her underwear was still in Isabel's purse for all she knew, and her bra had found its way into the garbage. She was wondering what she had gotten herself into. Was this going to be a one-time thing? What were the rules? Torrie put out a cigarette that she had just lit. What if Isabel didn't like smokers? Finally, a familiar little car pulled up, and the window rolled down just a bit.

"Get in," came the feminine voice from inside. Torrie did as she was told. She found herself sitting in the passenger's seat, wringing her hands nervously. Isabel was sitting next to her, wearing a long black leather trench coat. She grabbed Torrie's hair and pulled her in for another savage kiss. She shoved a hand into Torrie's pants and started fingering her cunt. Torrie just sat there and let Isabel do whatever she wanted.

"You're wet," Isabel purred, shoving those fingers into Torrie's mouth. "That's good." She let go of Torrie, who was breathing harder than she had ever done before in her life. Her hands were trembling a bit as they grabbed the wheel. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Torrie staring. Isabel cracked a smile. "I guess you've realized that I . . . I've never really done this before."

Torrie smiled, blushed, and looked down at her own hands. "Neither have I. Ma'am."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to play this by ear." Isabel headed for the apartment. When they arrived, she ordered Torrie to open her door for her, some of the firmness returning to her voice. She got out, bent Torrie over the hood for just a moment and landed a strong stroke on her denim-clad backside. 'Okay, I need to give this girl a change in style. These clothes don't do her body justice.' "Follow me," she said and walked quickly towards her door. She had to get inside before someone she knew spotted her. She unlocked the door, then had Torrie open it. Soon, they were both inside. She positioned Torrie in the middle of the room.

"Take off your clothes and give them to me." As Torrie began to remove her clothes, Isabel got impatient. "You're taking too long." She grabbed a pair of scissors. "Hold still." She cut Torrie's shirt off. She meant to start work on the girl's beat-up jeans, but the muscles of her toy's back captivated her. She drug her fingernails across those taut muscles, making Torrie's skin light up with goosebumps. "Take your pants off. And hurry."

Torrie quickly unbuttoned her faded jeans and removed them. She was standing naked in the middle of the room. Then she heard some rustling behind her and the sound of clothes hitting the floor. Then Isabel came into view. Under that trenchcoat, she had been wearing a pink leather corset and matching pink thong. And that was about it. Isabel's incredible cleavage was prominently displayed, her nipples barely covered by the cups of her garment. She grabbed one of Torrie's small but pert breasts quite roughly, tugging on the nipple until the girl yelped. Then she did the same to the other breast.

"Just so that we're clear, this isn't about your behavior at the store any more. This isn't about your job. This is about you learning your place. Do you understand me?" Isabel said while squeezing both of Torrie's nipples at the same time.

"Yes!" Torrie hissed, her breasts throbbing under Isabel's attention.

"You will speak when I tell you to. You will do what I tell you to. You will pleasure me whenever, wherever and however I say. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," returned Torrie, staring longingly at the body of a woman she had fantasized about for months.

"Good," Isabel said, twisting the girl's nipples again. Torrie gasped, and only partially from the pain. Isabel had her aroused, and she knew it. "I don't think a single session will be enough, do you?" Isabel waited for a response, slightly fearful. 'Is that how a dominatrix asks a submissive if she wants to go steady?' She almost laughed at her own thoughts.

"No ma'am." Torrie was hoping that Isabel's question meant what she thought it meant.

"Of course not," Isabel snapped, pulling on those now incredibly sensitive nubs one more time, making Torrie gasp. "Once isn't good enough for you. Why? Because you're a little slut! You're a common whore. Well, now you're MY whore. Soon, I'll have you acting and dressed for the part. For now, get on your knees!" She grabbed the back of Torrie's head and slowly pushed the girl until she was in a kneeling position. "Now put your hands behind you. Excellent."

Torrie felt cold metal encircling her wrists as Isabel produced a set of handcuffs from somewhere and locked them in place. Torrie was a little nervous, but it was almost completely drowned out by the excitement. She stared at the ground as Isabel wandered around, finally stopping directly in front of her, those wonderful round butt-cheeks right in front of her.

"I seem to remember bring myself to climax earlier, but I didn't have an opportunity to clean up. Get that tongue moving. And don't skip my asshole. Do you understand me you little bitch?"

"Yes ma'am," Torrie responded. Isabel reached back and spread her cheeks, and Torrie tentatively started probing the crack. The woman smelled like sex, and that's what Torrie liked.

"You call that cleaning?" Isabel growled. She grabbed the top of Torrie's hair and held the girl's face against her backside. Torrie immediately started licking and probing her Mistress's asshole and lower slot. Isabel was grinding Torrie's face against her beautiful ass so much that Torrie was afraid she'd get a crick in her neck. Isabel turned around. "I see that you have a lot to learn." She took off her thong, then thrust her crotch into Torrie's face, and Torrie started to lick again. It was a horribly uncomfortable angle, and Isabel was treating Torrie's head like a stress ball.

But Torrie was loving it! She loved Isabel's cunt. It was perfectly pink, swollen and juicy. She had her tongue in as far as she could. Normally she would use her hands to help get a girl off, but that tool had been denied her. Isabel kept maneuvering her slave's head, diverting her from direct pleasuring and forcing her to clean up the residue from Isabel's earlier masturbation session. When that girl was pleased with Torrie's efforts, which took a while, Torrie was finally allowed to lick entirely for Isabel's pleasure. She sucked on the area around Isabel's clit, and the dominant female began to shudder. Soon, she was cumming up a storm, and it was a wet one. Isabel's perfect body in the throes of orgasm was the most beautiful thing Torrie had ever seen.

"You made a mess," Isabel said disapprovingly. She rubbed her puffy wet lips all over Torrie's face, then ordered the girl to clean up the remaining jizz. Torrie dutifully obeyed. Then Isabel went over and grabbed a chair from her dining area, forcing Torrie to lie stomach first on the seat. "Because your initial efforts were so inept, I'm afraid I'll have to punish you." Torrie strained her neck as her captor wandered over and grabbed a few items out of a drawer. The first was a ball-gag, which was inserted into Torrie's mouth and secured around her neck. Then Torrie was tied to the seat of the chair with a length of rope and her knees were tied to the legs of the chair. She was completely at Isabel's mercy.

Isabel kneeled in front of her captive, wielding a small paddle and a slim-line vibrator. "This is where you belong. You know that, don't you? By the time I'm done, you'll never be uppity with me again." Then she disappeared from Torrie's view.

Torrie felt the smooth sides of the vibrator being pushed into her box. It wasn't a particularly big device, but it didn't have to be. Once it was in up to the handle, Isabel switched it on. Then she used some more rope wrapped around and between her thighs to secure the vibrating toy in place. Torrie was waiting for the first swat of the paddle while savoring the humming of the device buried in her body. But Isabel had another surprise. She glanced to the side and saw Isabel setting up a tripod and a digital video camera. Isabel saw that she was being watched.

"Practice makes perfect. You will watch this tape in the future, and hopefully it will help you learn to behave." Once the camera was set up and rolling, Isabel walked behind Torrie. "Remember, this is for your own good." And with that, the first paddle fell.

Torrie felt pain and pleasure shoot through her body. It had been a good swing, but not too hard. Isabel apparently wanted this to last. The vibrator inside her box was keeping her at a heightened state of arousal almost constantly, and she already felt on the verge of orgasm. She moaned and groaned into her gag. She strained against her bonds, relishing the feel of nylon rope against her skin.

Isabel was being patient with her swings, but it was difficult for her to concentrate. Even as the skin of Torrie's ass began to turn as pink as her hair, Isabel's attention was captured by the girl's muscles as they fought against their confinement. 'My little slut is in heat,' she thought, still amazed at how fortunate she had gotten. 'To think that I almost walked away from this!' After the tenth stroke, she saw that Torrie wasn't straining anymore. She was shaking. "Are you . . . are you having and orgasm? Are you getting cum on my chair?!?" Isabel was trying to sound offended, but she was secretly aroused as hell. "I can't believe you. Ten more strokes!"

A few minutes later, Torrie's ass was stinging so much that she was almost ready to cry. But she wasn't ready to quit. She heard commotion behind her, the Isabel appeared. This time, she was wearing a strap-on. It was about six inches long and pink. Isabel removed Torrie's gag.

"I see I have my work cut out for me. You take too long to clean my pussy. You cum on my chair. I guess we need to start with the basics." With very little finesse, she shoved the fleshy pink toy into Torrie's mouth until the girl gagged. "This is a skill you need to know. You never know what I may ask you to do or who I might tell you to service. Now open your mouth in an 'O' shape so I can fuck it."

Torrie was a little panicked by the phrase ". . . who I might tell you to service." But she wasn't given much time to think about it. Isabel's thrusts were coming quick and hard. Every time, she made Torrie gag. Soon, the bound girl was actually leaking tears. She had never had anything like that in her mouth before. Finally, Isabel stopped and pulled out, and strings of drool fell out of Torrie's mouth.

"That's a good start," Isabel crooned, stroking the side of Torrie's face gently. Isabel grabbed another chair and positioned it in front of Torrie. She sat down and spread her legs, scooting the chair even closer. "I shouldn't even need to tell you what to do, but I will. Eat my pussy, and don't stop until I tell you to."

Torrie was having a hard time concentrating. Her lips and throat were sore, she was sweating like a pig and the vibrator buried in her cunt was still giving off a low thrum. But she wasn't going to disappoint Isabel. She started lapping like a dog, scooping her tongue from bottom to top between those wet lips.

Isabel was rubbing her own clit in small circles while her new pet devoured her honey pot. But while her body was fast approached release, her mind was straining to figure out what should happen next. 'I don't want her to go, but how do I ask her to stay? And do I want her to stay as my slave or as . . . as a friend. Fuck, she's good! What if someone drops by? God, what if Dad calls?!?' But one look at the sweat and cum covered face of Torrie helped make up her mind. She wanted the girl to stay. She was so glad it was Saturday. She was pretty sure she could ensure their privacy until the evening.

"Oh fuck!" she exclaimed, her pleasure escaping her lips against her will. Torrie's oral attention had brought her to climax one more time. And much to her delight, Torrie was having an orgasm of her own. Both girls' bodies were shaking and the cum flowed like wine. And Torrie never stopped, because Isabel didn't tell her to. "Okay, you can stop now. You did well . . . my little slut." Isabel thought about and decided 'to fuck with proper domination etiquette!' She got on her knees and kissed Torrie. It was as long, sweet and wonderful as the one back at the store. 'No,' Isabel thought. 'It's better.'

She stood up and proceeded to untie Torrie. She saw all sorts of marks where the rope had been a little too tight, and it made her wince. She knew she had to do better the next time. Once Torrie was completely freed of her restraints and the vibrator was removed and deactivated, she remained unmoving on the chair. She was breathing hard, and her hair was plastered against her head. She gripped Torrie by the shoulders. "Can you stand?"

Torrie turned her head. She looked thoroughly exhausted and totally satisfied. She nodded. She braced herself by putting her hands on the chair and started to stand, only to find one of her feet had gone to sleep. Isabel caught her before she could fall and helped her into the bedroom and onto the plush, queen-sized bed. Isabel laid the girl down, front-first onto the pink comforter. Torrie watched as her captor and savior removed her own regalia, then went into the bathroom. She returned with a warm washcloth and a bottle of lotion. She gently cleaned up her friend, then rubbed the lotion into the skin where the rope had dug in. Her mentor, Mr. X, had told her it might help.

Torrie was confused thought not altogether displeased with the treatment. It was quite a contrast to the rough play they had just engaged in, but it was pleasant in its own way.

"I'm going to take a shower. Try and stay awake for a few minutes. I need to talk to you." Isabel wandered off and took a much quicker shower than she was used to, then she returned. Despite her request, Torrie had already nodded off. 'Poor girl,' she thought. 'She's probably been awake for almost twenty-four hours. And she did so well . . .' She lay beside the prone girl, pressing her large breasts into Torrie's side. Then she nudged Torrie until she woke up.

"Sorry," the girl mumbled. "I didn't mean . . ."

"It's okay. We'll let it slide this time," Isabel said with a smile. Then she looked quizzical. "How long have you known?"

"Known . . . what?"

"That this is what you wanted?"

Torrie's lips formed a gentle smile. It looked good on her. "I was eighteen. I'd been sexually active for a couple of years already, but it was all pretty boring. I had just started working at a fast-food joint right down the road from a gym. There were these two . . . two bull dykes . . . not the fat hairy kind but the solid muscle kind . . . they came in every day. I'm not sure, but I think I flirted with them. Strange, but I never found them attractive . . . not really. But there was something about the way they carried themselves . . . it just excited me." Torrie stopped. She had never told anyone this story before. Not even Rachel knew about it. "One day, things were slow and I was mopping the floor next to the bathroom when they came in. They looked at me and smiled. I knew what they wanted. They led me by the hand into the bathroom . . . accused me of being a tease." She chuckled. "Then they told me that if I didn't walk out right then and there, they would show me what they did to teases."

"You didn't walk out?"

"No. And then they had their way with me. I ate both of them out, right there in the restroom. They didn't care if I got off or not, as long as they did. But I did get off. Neither of them touched me down there, but I came right in my uniform. Once they were done, they just . . . left me there. And I wanted them to come back. I was ashamed, but that made me . . . it made me even more excited. I told my boss that I'd spilled something on myself. I had to work the rest of the day in stained pants."

Isabel was picturing the young woman being sexually manhandled in a bathroom while begging for more. It was an intoxicating image. "Did they ever come back?"

"No. I never saw them again." Torrie blushed. "God, you . . . you must think I'm a total slut."

Isabel kissed her on the cheek. "I hope so. It'll make things much more fun if you are." She sighed. "But there's something you should know. No one . . . and I mean no one . . . can know about us. I know that pisses you off, but that's the way it has to be. None of my family or friends even knows I'm gay, much less that . . . that I do this sort of thing. I had to be very discreet when learning about all this. Everything I've learned, I learned from a man named Mr. X. He runs and owns a fetish club on the outskirts of town. It's called Dark Eden."

"I've heard of it. Never had the money or nerve to try and go there."

"I wish you had," Isabel whispered, kissing Torrie on the shoulder. "I might have gotten to know you long before I did. I've been waiting so long for something like this. I don't want to wait anymore."

"You don't . . . have to. I'm sorry, but . . . I don't know what this means." Torrie wasn't sure if she knew how to phrase what she was feeling.

But Isabel understood. "You're mine now. And I take care of what's mine." She gripped one of Torrie's tight butt cheeks. "And . . . and I like you."

Torrie blushed. "What about you? How long have you known?"

Isabel smiled. "Hey, I'm the one in charge. That's a story for another time, and I order you to get some sleep."

"Yes ma'am." And like a light, Torrie was out again.

Isabel got up, closed up the blinds and turned off the light. She set her alarm, then curled up next to Torrie again. Soon, she was asleep as well.

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A few hours later . . .

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'Damn it,' Rachel thought. The ear-piercing shriek of her cell phone was distracting her from her favorite activity. With a noisy slurp, she released the cock in her mouth, much to the chagrin of the recipient of one of her famous blowjobs. "Fuck! It's Jeremy! Keep quiet!" she told her male companion. She flipped the phone open with one hand while leisurely stroking her friend's cock in the other. "What'cha wantin'?"

"Hey Sis," came the voice from the other end. "Have you seen Torrie today?"

She rolled her eyes. Her brother's thinly veiled obsession with Torrie was unnerving at times. "No. It's not even noon. She's probably asleep."

"Nah. I just swung by her place. I was supposed to help her do laundry today and . . ."

"Jesus Jeremy! Did you take a girl back to her apartment again? It's the only reason you ever help her with laundry!"

"Hey, a man's got needs!" he said.

She rolled her eyes, took a quick lick of the dick in her hand, then went back to the conversation. "Well, is she not at home?"

"No. Her folks got back yesterday, and they said she didn't come home. They're worried, and I thought Torrie might be with you."

"No, no she's not." Now Rachel was actually worried. Torrie had been a bit out of sorts lately and it had been getting worse. "You don't think she went and did somethin' stupid, do you?"

"Maybe she was running errands this morning. Or maybe she got lucky."

"You just can't let it go, can you?" She was teasing her brother, but she was also concerned. Sex was something else Torrie hadn't expressed much interest in, or she might have been willing to accept Jeremy's suggestion. "Listen, if she hasn't shown up by this afternoon, we'll worry. 'kay?"

"I guess . . ." Jeremy mumbled. "Could you call Frank and ask him to keep an eye out?"