The Girl Who Made Women Say Yes, Part 4

by Eva

As always, fantasy fiction for mature adults only. Newcomers ought to read the first three parts of this tale.

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Kimmie actually smiled. I think she was amused to see the look of sheer horror on my face that my eldest daughter — and her friend Josie — had seen (and clearly heard) all this frantic lesbian sex and climaxes. I guess that included me yelling that I wanted my youngest girl's fist in me.

I think the words 'Oh please, oh please Lulu fist fuck me now, oh please,' had summed it up nicely.

True, it was a moment of weakness to allow that plea to slip out when it did, but then a combination of the Ben-Wa balls in me and a desperate, primal desire to have sex with Louisa May were dictating most of me right then and there.

So there we were, me sat on the edge of a chair with my legs wide open and duct-taped crotch on display, sweat dripping from me (and there'd be cum juices too if the tape gave way) and the naked mother and her pregnant daughter from next door in the fading glow of orgasm clutching each other like they knew this was the start of a liberation they'd denied themselves for years.

At their feet was a pile of clothes including an expensive wedding dress and a discarded bouquet.

The only one who didn't register any surprise at the arrival of my eldest girl and her friend was Louisa May. She just grinned as if this was the least of her worries. But then, she wasn't doing anything, was she? Just sat watching.

"Looks like fun," said the smiling Kimmie, aiming her comment at her youngest sister, who merely chuckled in response.

"Kim," I started to say, unsure quite how I was going to explain all this. After all this was my house and I was sure I had some responsibility for what was happening here.

"It's okay mum," Kimmie turned her attention to me. "This is what Louisa May said would happen." A beat. "It's cool."

"Cool?" I blinked at Kimmie. "You knew?"

"Sure." My eldest shrugged. "Your sweet lil Lulu here told me what was going on." It was said so matter-of-factly I couldn't quite believe I was hearing this.

"So this is her power?" Josie had joined in. "Wow," she added, still clearly amazed.

I groaned: someone else in on the deal and the net of Louisa May's influence was growing. The look of surprise on Kimmie's friend's face at seeing so much sex had softened to a sly smirk. "So when do I get my turn?" Josie asked.

I stared at the girl who had just become a teenager. Josie Burrows was just turned 13 and she had a nice snub nose, freckles and braces on her teeth to go with those nice, high pointed little boobs that made people stare while pretending not to look.

"Soon, Josie," said Louisa May, jumping up from her seat. "You two," she said to the post- orgasmic mother and daughter holding each other closely. "Tidy those clothes up an' go and stand in the corner, facing the wall. An' no touching each other, bitches."

Bitches jumped to it and within a minute were standing, each facing the wall with noses just about touching the wallpaper and a little way apart so there would indeed be no more touching for a while.

"Kimmie," I said to my eldest, trying hard to establish some authority. Mothers, I remembered, were supposed to have some control over their offspring. "I don't think–"

"Oh, just don't think at all," said Kimmie, suppressing a giggle. "You weren't thinking when you were on the bed upstairs earlier."

"What?"

"You remember," said Kimmie lightly. "Face down, knickers over your head, moaning an' stuff. You were lost in having a cummie."

I gulped. "H-how did you know about that?"

"Because," laughed Louisa May, "it was her who did it! Kimmie fingered you into cummin'."

"But that was you! No one else knew," I managed to say as I stared at my youngest. "You had me, not Ki–" I stopped as the truth dawned on me. I could recall the hand in me was unsure and exploring. Lulu wouldn't, I knew, be that uncertain. After a moment of slow realisation I added: "It... it was Kimmie who did that to me?"

Kimmie and Louisa May both snorted a laugh and nodded. I slumped back in the chair, feeling both an overwhelming shame and shock. I had, in the space of a few hours, been made to climax by both my daughters. I had been used and deceived and made to think something of what was happening to me was a secret of some special sort. No, wait; it was more that I thought that whatever Louisa May did with other women, I was special. That I was reserved for her.

The unwavering thought that Louisa May — my Lulu — loved me most of all.

But I wasn't reserved at all, and that was why Josie was here, looking pleased and excited. I understood in that moment that I was just going to be used by anyone Louisa May decided. I was just another bitch, waiting to be used.

---

Josie examined my cunt carefully. I was lying on my bed on my back with legs apart and feeling shame and humiliation and even anger at what was happening. The 13-year old was between my legs, looking at how sore I was after she had ripped the duct-tape from me and extracted the Ben-Wa balls. I was sorry they weren't in me as they made me feel good, but glad I could get some relief from worrying when Lulu would turn them on again.

I admit it hurt having the silver duct tape ripped off me. If I hadn't been hairless before, I sure would be now. But then Josie and me were just doing what we had been told to do, but the friend of my eldest girl seemed to have more kindness in her than I expected. Josie had found my old, soiled black lace knickers and stuffed them in my mouth so when she yanked the tape off, I had something to bite on. That, I thought, was kind of her.

I felt embarrassed and utterly helpless at being like this and my sex ached for pleasure. Pleasure from my youngest, I have to admit. But she was downstairs with Kimmie and they were more than likely amusing themselves with Preggy Bitch and Old Cow.

"Doesn't look too bad," said Josie brightly as she lifted her head and grinned her braced teeth at me. "Bit red, but then that was probably you shaving."

I nodded, not believing it was just that. Having my twat denied air while being severely stimulated and then having its cover ripped off was a good indication of why it was the inflamed colour it was.

"You okay, Mrs Ashton?" Asked the girl, scrambling up from between my legs so her face was level with mine, resting on one elbow so she was slightly above me. But then, wasn't everyone slightly above me? She reached over and tugged the wet pants from between my teeth. She sniffed at them and wrinkled her nose slightly; she clearly wasn't used to lesbian sex and cum-stained panties. She could however have been one of those youngsters who think pussies ought not to smell because of arousal. Well, she'd learn.

"I'm fine, thanks," I answered, fighting down the resentment in me, starting from when I had been told to go upstairs and lie like this and allow Josie do what she wanted to me. I had been handed from one child to another, and I wasn't entirely happy. Part of me was lying on the bed listening to sounds from downstairs, small gasps and cries and moans and even slaps filtering up to my bedroom. I could guess that one of the mother and daughter pair was no doubt being spanked. That would be Kimmie, who I now knew liked slapping a woman's bum.

Next to me Josie looked concerned, head resting on her hand. She was still dressed — nice faded blue jeans, a yellow tee-shirt with a name of a band on the front. No one I had heard of, but then they weren't meant to appeal to anyone but kids. "You're not really all that good, are you?" She asked me.

"No... I'm feeling fine, really." For the first time since I was ordered upstairs I looked at the girl and felt maybe she was okay. Okay enough perhaps to talk to. God knows, I had to talk to someone about this. I had to find someone to who I could explain this morass of feelings and uncertainties. The excitement I could deal with; it was all the rest of it that was bothering me.

"Hmm, not sure. So please tell me," said the girl, recognising there are degrees of feeling fine. "I know this must be hard for you."

I shrugged as best I could. Hard wasn't the issue. I had been turned into a slut — a lesbian pedo slut — desperate for sex with my youngest daughter. I am sure if I analysed this I would learn a lot about who I was and how I was, what was inside me. But I didn't want analysis; I wanted Lulu to make me cum as she kissed me.

The hard part was accepting Louisa May had offered me a little something special and now had taken it away. Old Cow Betty downstairs might at that moment be dancing on the fist of Lulu, or moaning as she was licked and slapped, or having young cum juices wiped over her face. Or the Preggy Bitch daughter would be on her knees and whimpering to be allowed to climax again and maybe having her nipples pulled and tweaked or even insulted for getting pregnant. I felt my cunt heat up and moisten at the thought of all that rampant perversion, and hated myself for it.

"Look... Josie. This is, um, unusual," I said. I didn't try to move, awkward though I felt with this girl. "Let's just say that for now."

"Mrs Ashton–" The 13 year old paused. "Is it okay if I call you Lynda?" It was, and I nodded. Anyway, what choice would I have? I was here to do what I was told. "The girl continued: "Lynda, I want, uh you know... I want to try things with you, but only if you do."

I looked at Josie and felt a strange pang in me. She wanted to try things? Like sex? Did she mean that she had never had a woman before? I had, thanks to Louisa May, a clear idea every pre-teen girl for miles around all had some chance at sexual relations with a willing woman. Or even unwilling, until given instructions by Louisa May to become willing. But then maybe Josie was the last in line.

"Josie," I began and suddenly tears welled in my eyes, making me stop. "Im sorry... I didn't mean to cry." I said after a moment.

The girl nodded sympathetically, picked up my damp knickers and found a moderately dry patch to wipe my cheeks with. I didn't move and let her do it, grateful for the kindness. "This is amazing," whispered the girl.

"How?" I sniffed back the last of my tears.

"I dunno, just is. Seein' you like this," she said, gently. Then she smiled and leaned in and kissed the last teardrop on my eyelashes, and I blushed a little. "Lynda, you look sweet with red cheeks," she added with a soft sigh.

I nodded, glad of the girl's company, thrilled by her kindness. In an odd way I was just as thrilled by this than simply being fucked. Don't get me wrong; I wanted that too. I wanted Lulu to make me cum. But this was different to anything else. Louisa May had manipulated me with her strange power, then let Kimmie use me and spank me when i thought it was my youngest. She had teased me with the radio-powered Ben-Wa balls, made me almost fall downstairs because of an orgasm and — for all I knew — put the idea in poor pregnant Katherine's mind that she shouldn't get married and hence engineered the "scene" downstairs. I felt utterly helpless as the person controlling my life had so many other irons in the fire.

Above all I felt I wasn't as special as I'd hoped; I was just another cunt to be teased and used and then discarded in some way. It all welled up inside me and I couldn't help crying again, and this time Josie held me carefully and let me cry, stroking my hair gently and then pressing the soiled, wet knickers back into my mouth so my sobs wouldn't be too loud.

It was later, when i had clamed, that the girl said: "Don't be mad at me, Lynda, but I'm not really a lesbian," said the girl lying by me. She had removed the panties from my mouth but kept them close by her. "I'm not really attracted to women, not like that," she added. Josie sighed. "One day I want to meet a nice boy and get married. Have children, nice home. You know."

I did know, and I understood. That was once what I wanted too. "I'm not mad at you," I said. I hadn't moved from my position on the bed and really neither had Josie much. she was still next to me but didn't make any attempt to finger me or fist me or play with my tits or pull my nipples. Once or twice she had surprised me, putting her hand on my neck, as if weighing a matter up in her mind. But no kisses. I'm not sure she wanted to kiss me, apart from the tear on my eyelashes. "But... Josie, why are you here?"

"Oh, just that Kimmie thought it'd be fun, and I'd never seen any woman have sex with another woman. Also, Louisa May said I should come over here and–"

"So she's got power over you too," I interrupted. The child's power was enormous.

"What?" Josie laughed. "No way!" She propped up more and grinned at me. "I think she tried but, well... I came here because I thought it might be fun. But when I saw those two women... well, I wanted to go. But Kimmie thought I should stay."

"So, this isn't what you want?" I stared up at Josie. "You don't want me like this?"

The young teenager blushed. "Um, it's not that —" she started. "At least, I dunno." She looked down me towards my sore mound. "I wanted to see what it was like under that tape, and the pants in your mouth..." She was blushing furiously now.

"Go on," I insisted.

"No." The girl hopped off the bed. I felt devastated. Was I being rejected again? But maybe not: the girl crossed to the window and drew the curtains. It was getting dark outside and she turned on the small lamp on by the side of the bed. Downstairs we could hear some more slaps and groans, and then a cry of a woman enjoying an orgasm. The girl came back to the bed and knelt up, over me, looking down at my face. "I always liked you," she said. "But I never had a crush on you. Not the way some girls do."

"So, why don't you leave now? You came here you said because Kimmie wanted you to — Louisa May too — and you say you don't want to make me cum. Or at least play with me." I gave the slightest glance down my body, as if to say: 'look at me, open and ready.' I took a deep breath: I didn't want to be left alone when there was the prospect of sex, but if Louisa May didn't control everyone, including Josie, then the child could just get up and go.

The 13 year old looked thoughtful. "I jus' don't know," she sighed. "That's not really helpful is it?" She studied my naked body for a minute, then she said: "I don't know what to think about lezzies. I mean, it seems weird, you know, women doing things to other women."

"Hon, I'm not a lezzie as you call them."

"Um, but you want to be you know... done by a girl. Um, I mean... fucked." The child blushed at using the word. Probably it was the first time she'd ever used the F word in front of an adult. "And if I did it, you'd be worried."

"Worried? Why?"

"Oh, you'd think that everyone can use you whenever they want. That Louisa May can do whatever she wants when she wants. Jus' go and make everyone do things no matter what." The girl considered her next thought. "Thing is, Lynda, don't be mad at me... but I don't really like Louisa May that much." Another little blush.

I stared up at the girl. "That's... that's okay," I said. I guessed it was probably the first time she'd told anyone in this family that she didn't like her friend's younger sister.

"She's so pushy, and devious," said Josie, more or less answering the next question of mine. Well, not every person gets along with others; not every child likes her friend's family. I understood. "She makes trouble," added Josie quietly.

There was an especially loud slap and attendant shriek from downstairs. Yes, I thought, Lulu does make trouble in her own sweet way. "Don't worry," I said.

"I don't want to do what Louisa May wants... it's just that..." The girl gulped. "I want to stay and do things."

"Like what?" I was trying to be calm and assuring, as a responsible adult should be. But my heart was thundering in me. Josie wasn't Lulu, but then Kimmie wasn't Lulu either and I had cum with my eldest girl's fingers in me. Maybe if Josie wanted to finger me — or even fist me — it would be just as good. Perhaps even better; despite her braces maybe she had a lovely soft kiss for me when I came.

"You wouldn't understand," said the girl, and got up from next to me on the bed.

I didn't move. "Why wouldn't I? Just because I'm naked and open and ready to be used," I swallowed, not sure where the words were coming from, "doesn't mean I can't understand."

Josie looked flustered. "I don't want to have a lesbo lover," she said, tension in her voice. "I don't care if you cum or not."

I felt a pang of disappointment. "Go on," I managed to say.

I stared at the young teenage girl, watching how she fought something inside her. She eventually spoke. "It's just that all my life... women like my mum..." There was something struggling to come out of her. The darkest, biggest, scariest secret ever, and like all youngsters she probably thought no one had ever had that idea before. That it was something so dark, so evil she would be locked away for the rest of life if anyone knew.

"You can tell me," I said soothingly. "I don't care what it is. I mean, look at me. I'm open to anything."

"But you will care," she said, looking at me with desperation in her eyes. "When I start." She was wringing her small, slim hands hard. Hands I really would like to feel in my hot, wet cunt.

"Try me," I said, thinking I would faint from the anticipation of this terrible thing, if I didn't find out soon what it was.

Josie bit her lower lip, hard, and then spun on her heel. She went to my chest of drawers and rooted through it. She was looking for something specific. "I saw you wearing it once," she said as she dug through all the things in there, almost tossing them aside. "You had it on, when I came round after school."

I watched her, puzzled. What did I have on that could be of interest to her?

Suddenly the girl pulled what she was looking for from the drawer. "Here!" She cried with a grin. A radiant, happy grin. She was holding up a gold link chain belt — something I occasionally wore with a long black skirt so the gold chain hung loosely round my waist, fastened on one hip. Probably not the latest fashion statement but I liked it.

In a couple of strides she was back at the bed, and me. She leaned over me and whispered: "Lynda, I'm sorry."

"What for?" I asked, but she didn't answer. Josie looped the chain round my neck, fastened it at my throat and then tugged the long end so I had to move, get to my feet.

"Get down on your knees," she said, eyes wide with excitement, and she was shaking too. "Now!"

"Of course," I said, dropping to my knees.

"This is what I always wanted," she said triumphantly, looking down at me. "Since I can remember. I wanted a woman to be my slave. Sort of like my pet." She yanked the chain belt — more a leash now — and I almost fell over. "I want you to obey me 'cos you are mine."

I gulped and nodded, feeling the heat of my arousal and a wave of happiness from her. "Yes, mistress," I said.

She laughed, more than I had heard her laugh ever before. Josie had always struck me as something of a serious child. But not now; she was truly happy. And all I could do was whatever she wanted. At the same time I realised all I could do was hope she would want me sexually one day. One day soon.

The teen led me round the room on my knees, looking clearly thrilled she finally had a woman on a leash. A slave of her own. I wondered though if she most wanted her mother on her knees like I was now, and that I would do for now. I admit the feeling in me at all this was strange: I was willingly being humiliated, not used for sex, and with even less hope of getting what I wanted. Yet my cunt was juicing up with each tug and I knew that whatever I was told to do, I would do it. With a distinct buzz that was nothing to do with the Ben-Wa balls on the bedside table, the excitement in me grew. I knew I had no choice with these girls. I was helpless and it felt wonderful.

Josie got me to stand and looked me over, like someone studying their property. "I suppose, now that you're mine," she sighed. "I ought to try an' make you happy."

I nodded, and felt my arousal surge in me anew. But all the girl did was pick up those soiled pants of mine, wipe them against my cunt (and I so wanted to beg for her to press them into me down there) and stuff them in my mouth. She laughed at me, flicked my erect nipples a few times to make me wince and whimper (which amused her) and then she fished a pair of old clip-on silver pendant earrings from a drawer and before my erect nips could subside she fastened them on me. God, that hurt and I whimpered more, again much to her amusement.

Then looking pleased with herself the 13 year old led me downstairs, to show me off to the others.

Yet what I saw down there made me gasp in my panty-gag. The two women — the mother and pregnant daughter from next door — were still there, and though they had red buttocks they were still in the same place standing against the wall, not moving. Not touching as ordered. In front of them Louisa May and Kimmie were happily standing by the coffee table, and what was across it shocked me.

Bent over the small table was a woman, naked and with her buttocks even more red than the bitches by the wall. The female slowly lifted her head, and despite her unhappy expression, her tears and the smudged mascara and mussed-up hair, I recognised her at once as she looked across at me.

There was no doubt about it: she was the last person I expected to see in this house.

Continued in Part 5