...AND IN THE END!

 

A STUDY IN LESBIAN DOMINATION AND REVENGE.

 

Emma and Jenna are in their Sixth Form College to do 'A' Levels and begin meeting all sorts of new friends.

Jenna gets hooked up with Hari and Jodi, two older girls students that were in the habit of seducing the under class and coaxing them into all sorts of lewd activities. Their favorite pass time is the use of a large rubber dildo, and a willing victims anal cavity.

Jenna is brutally used by the two older girls and Emma vows to get revenge for her friend. Both Jenna and Emma have no idea the shame a degradation they must endure to exact their vengeance.

 

SAMPLE FROM CHAPTER ONE:

 

Doing 'A' Levels

Jenna Oswald was the apple of every parent's eye. Her father was the local vicar, mom worked in the charity shop and Jenna herself was a bright, hardworking schoolgirl having passed nine GCSE's with top marks just that summer. Jenna seemed to be the perfect daughter, hardworking, trustworthy and very pretty to boot with her long, blonde, curly hair and cute little button nose. She certainly could easily pass for being younger than her eighteen years. As her best friend however I know about the dark side of her. Being a weak person I've been slowly drawn into her shadowy world experiencing everything with her.. I just had to tell someone about it so here goes..

I'm Emma, Jenna's close friend, I say close... we now couldn't be any closer. They are NOT our real names but they'll do for the purpose of telling the tale. After our GCSE's we went to Sixth Form College to do 'A' Levels, and that is where our story starts in our second year there. We had met all manner of new people at college, it was SO different from school. Now that   We suddenly had our freedom. Now that we were over eighteen, we could choose what we wore, ate, did and prophetically WHO we could meet, and generally be treated more like an adult.

I made lots of new friends, and as Jenna was doing a different course, so did she. I teamed up with the sorts of people that I'd always hung around with. Jenna wasn't used to hanging out with anyone, but new friends, seemed keen to cozy up to her. Two stunningly attractive girls in their final 'Art and Design ' term seemed to be permanently at Jenna's side. At first I was pleased that my shy friend had found new companions. I didn't want her feel I was trying to' muscle' in so at first, I kept my distance. We were still friends and traveled to college together each day, but as the weeks went by Jenna seemed to have very little conversation in her on our journeys after a month or so I noticed various strange things starting to happen.

I'd travel on the bus with the quiet, demurely attired vicar's daughter, but by morning break the vicar's daughter was no longer there. Bodily Jenna was in the common room, but now dressed in a short denim skirt (no tights!) and a cheesecloth shirt. The shirt had the top four or so buttons undone, showing her very alluring cleavage. I'm sure she was bra-less as well. Jenna was not on the art and design course but she was dressed in their 'uniform.'

Only when talking to my friends did any misgivings start to surface? Harriet and Jodi were her new friends, and they were the college's leading lights in the gay community, notorious, according to girls 'in the know' for disappearing off into the 'ladies' to 'fuck' each other. They both were stunningly attractive, had rich parents, shared a very nice flat nearby as well as owning a nearly new Beamer. They were often seen hand in hand openly parading round the campus.. Unlike us, Hari and Jodi seemed to have no fear of failure...Mummy and Daddy would sort things out for them....I worried about Jenna's attachment to them.

One Friday afternoon the nature of the attachment became blatantly clear. Friday lunchtimes usually left the college deserted as the students went out to lunch. The nearby cafe, wine bar and pub were full of our students. On this particular Friday I left the wine bar early to get first use of the photo copier for my dissertation. I set the machine going, but two pints of lager drove me hastily to the toilet. As usual the entrance door to the toilet was wedged open...lucky for me...I was bursting! I rushed into the cubicle, unzipped my jeans, whipped down my panties and..aahhhhh...It was like a tap being turned on, I was just in time.. As the sound of running water faded I was sure I could hear muffled voices. Nearby! After a minute I heard those whispering voices again. Someone was in here! I wondered who it could be...I had to find out....

I stood, hauled my panties and jeans up, banged my cubicle door shut and made some padding away noises with my feet. I never left the cubicle, but I hoped I'd persuaded the mystery occupants that I'd gone. Sure enough a couple of minutes later the voices rose to a more normal volume.

'Thank fuck for that!'hissed one irate voice..'Right Jenna, where were we?' growled a different voice.

Jenna was there... and two others. They were next door but one to me. I ducked down and peered under the cubicle divider. Sure enough three sets of feet were in that little space. One set of legs, wearing little white socks seemed to be sat on the toilet. Two other two sets of legs seemed to be facing the ' sitter.' Small garments littered the floor along with a large flesh colored object.

I thought I recognized Jenna's little denim skirt laying on the toilet floor, but I definitely recognized Jenna's little cheesecloth shirt as it fluttered on top of the skirt.

'Bit small....but they'll do. I'll make do with Tiny Tits!' Came the disparaging remark from inside the cubicle.

Two other pairs of panties fluttered to the floor, one pair drifted under the divider quite close to me.....within reach if I stretched. I reached under and picked them up. They were a little soiled, unhygienic and damp...Unaccountably I put them to my nose.....and drank in that unmistakable female aroma...To my acute embarrassment I felt a certain tingling, down south.

Rustling and muted gasps had me peeping under the divider again though it was two stalls over. It looked like Jenna's watch on the wrist I could see...and the little silver bracelet on her other wrist confirmed her identity. What in God's name was she doing....? Surely. Surely not demure little Jenna?? She had both hands flat on the cubicle floor and must have had her pretty ass high in the air. The slurping, lapping and strained gasps told me clearly that Jenna was getting her asshole done. Her little squeals did not seem to be of displeasure, quite the opposite in fact...she seemed to be enjoying it as I saw her pretty little face contort....with pleasure.

The tingling in my loins turned into a rush and I came in a flood, soaking my panties and jeans in a torrent of intimate juice and pee residue. I heard myself gasping but the other two girls were too busy swapping over their position, savoring Jenna's pert little ass to notice my gentle gasps.

'Spread your cheeks honey bunch...Let me get my tongue right in there... .' came the muffled instruction.

I could see Jenna dutifully gasping as she forced her bottom wider for the girls. The sucking, lapping and slurping sounds were very loud, but the three of them plowed on regardless.

'Must have been one fine ass' was my explanation?

'Wider girl WIDER....FIRST time up here is going to hurt otherwise!' Growled one of the butt licker's.

I ducked down again to see the flesh colored object being lifted from the floor, its thin straps tapping gently on the divider. I could various rustling noises and what sounded like a belt being buckled. I now know that something was being ' strapped on' but at the time I didn't.

'Prepare yourself for Heaven - honey bunch - Here it comes!' Was the gruff command from the cubicle.

The two feet behind Jenna shuffled in closer... Jenna's face was now crushed right to the floor, contorted this time....with pain......Our eyes met..... I won't easily forget the fear and the pain in those eyes....'

'I can't get it any wider!' She painfully gasped...searching my face desperately for help. ..'

'OH YES YOU CAN HONEY PIE - This'll sort it for you!! 'Grunted a ' threatening ' voice... Straining, groaning, gasping, guttural noises rang from that cubicle before a gasp announced- ' I'm IN, mmmmmmmmm.'

'......Owww! You're HURTING ME!!!'....was Jenna's pained, gasped cry, but a small manicured hand swiftly covered her mouth, silencing her protests.

Another hand snatched one of the sets of pants from the floor, screwed up them up and forced them into Jenna's trembling mouth. She was now totally helpless. What could I do??? Then an idea flashed into my head. Carefully I opened my cubicle door, trying to be as quick as I could, and tiptoed into the corridor outside. I could clearly hear the rhythmic 'pounding' and pained yelps coming from inside the toilet - I had to act quickly..

I quickly did my noisy footstep trick again...this time getting nearer. I called out to some imaginary colleague that 'Jenna's in the toilets...come down and we'll! Ask her...Jenna! WHERE ARE YOU, Jenna?'

I did my very best to sound like a whole bunch of people. The trick worked. As our Harriet and Jodi scuttled, red face, past me into the corridor, fleshy object in hand, abandoning Jenna in the cubicle. I rushed in, opened the rickety door to find Jenna sobbing, and sitting astride the toilet. She was dabbing her red eyes with the panties that had been so recently gagging her. The look of relief on her face was reward enough, but her sobbed 'Thanks Emma!' was truly heart felt. As Jenna stood the damage to her bottom became apparent. Her pretty little delicate ass was a bloodied mess. The cleft of her neat little rear was colored deep blood red with the seepage from her torn rosebud. She'd been viciously ass fucked by the two pretty design students.

I wanted to report the whole affair to the college authorities, but then Jenna confessed with acute embarrassment, how deeply she'd got involved with Hari and Jodi. Jenna had been flattered by the attention she received from the Gruesome Twosome and had easily been drawn into their web. She went to various quiet corners of the campus with them so they could 'Get to know each other better.' At first it was friendly chats...later a bit of racy banter...but at the end of the first month they were kissing.

I knew Jenna quite well, she wasn't like this. Normally. She explained how to her shame she'd gone along with it all having received a veiled threat about Daddy Finding Out about her exploits. It had reached the stage where she'd started to obediently do their bidding. With a good deal of coaxing I discovered that she'd been regularly to their flat where they'd taken it in turns to Do her She'd been lapped and sucked twice a week for nearly a whole term. She was sure that today's experience was the first time her 'friends' had interfered with her bottom....

It struck me as a bit strange that she didn't know whether they'd done her bottom before, but as she related the whole story to me I began to understand the reason for the apparent 'gaps' in Jenna's memory. Jenna mentioned being given a special drink...and not remembering much afterward. Then she sobbingly told me about the photos. While Jenna was out of it with her special drink she'd been photographed in a variety of lewd poses.

MAKING THE TEAM

by

CANDICE CHRISTIAN

 

 

IT’S SPRING AND THAT MEANS ON THING, SOFTBALL! SUE AND MARGIE SHOW US HOW TO HANDLE THE HIGH HARD ONES OR THE SLIDER… OR EVEN THE SPITTER?

Susan wants to make the New Haven College softball team in the worst way. Margie offers her to help her make the team.

 

Margie is the star first baseman on the team and Susan want to make the team and play shortstop. Margie, being a star player has a lot of influence with the coach, and gets Susan on the team but at a cost. Susan must provide Margie with oral sex and more, anytime Margie wants it.

 

A SAMPLE FOR YOU.

 

CHAPTER ONE

"Oh shit DAAAAM!" Margie moaned, a low needy sound, barely contained in the silence of the bathroom.

The huge first basemen leaned back hard against the wall, her hands tightly on Susan's shoulders. Then grasped, fisting tightly on the soft shoulders. Margie fought to keep her movements slow, rocking gently with her big hips against the shortstops mouth.

"That's right, give it up for your big momma," Margie fought to keep her voice quiet as Sue knelt before her, sucking strongly.

"Oh fuck yeah!" Sue pulled her mouth back a little, feeling those juices on her face.

Slow, inevitable strokes that shifted Margie's thick pussy lips back and forth on Sue's lips. The cute shortstop felt every inch of her cunt, her stiff clit, rock hard, yet so smooth and slick. Her dripping girl-juice, oozing along her tongue. The heavy weight of her ass cheeks, the dense thicket of sharp pubes. Sue smelt the overbearing smells, tasted every familiar inch. The cute blond pushed her hands upward again slightly, feeling warmth.

Margie was still dressed in her over sized black cargo pants and heavy sweatshirt. Coaxing her on from under her deep hood. There on her knees before the first basemen, she felt every part of Margie's intimidating on field strength and power. Tensed under her hands, below warm material. Sliding firmly over her lips.

"Ease up, baby." Margie's voice was low, strained. "I don't wanna cum yet."

Sue complied, feeling the huge first baseman's hands still locked on her shoulders. Damn, she'd barely got off the field, and into the bathrooms to take a piss. Still she'd caught her. Pulled her aside into the handicap stall. Undid her pants as she pushed her down, like she had so many times before. Sue closed her eyes again as she ran her tongue firmly around Margie's clit again, eliciting another breathy moan. She felt Margie's hand slip onto her neck, pulling her forward. Sue's tongue slipped deeper again, then Sue swallowed.

"I swear you are the best damn fuckin' pussy licker I ever felt. Take me down, bitch..."

Sue slid her hand upwards, feeling the slick smooth, vaginal muscles constrict on her fingers. How many girls had dreamed of this? How many of the cheerleaders? Sue was beyond wondering, the strange reality of being slave to the New Haven Blue Jay's star first basemen beyond its initial appeal. A tower of solid teenage muscle, developed years beyond her age. A future big time star, a first basemen built like a outfielder, with the unbelievable speed of a sprinter. The cute blond felt Margie's slit push at her again, wiping girl juice and sweat across her tongue. She tasted the sharp saltiness of her fluids smeared over her lips, trailing back again along her tongue. Sue sucked harder, pushing her head forth to meet that big furry cunt as her nose drunk in the depths of Margie's thick pubic bush. She felt the mounting changes, gradual, yet there. She felt Margie's huge muscles tighten again under her hands, hearing her breath come quicker. "Ooooh yeah, babe! Lick me, bitch! That's right!" Margie groaned again, both hands tight around Susan's head.

"Get ready to taste mommas cum!!" Sue heard the quick pants, her engorged, big labia throbbing. The petite shortstop found herself almost welcoming the torrential flood of thick girl-cum. Hot, streaming, thick, filling her mouth, oozing slower than water down her throat. Assaulting her taste as Margie's heady stink filled her nose. She drunk the first basemen, taking her cunt and juices without protest. The ultimate insult and act of submission the teenager could think of. Sue pulled back, hearing Margie's slight sigh as her tongue slipped out of her pussy. She felt that heavy weight leave her mouth, slip off her lips. Lowering her head slightly, Sue caught her breath, heavy with the smell of wet pussy, her senses still swimming with Margie's womanhood. She saw the massive first basemen pull up her cotton panties and short, working the zipper. A big hand grabbed her shoulder, dragging her upward to her feet.

"Hey. You know the deal. Right?"

Sue glanced downward a little, avoiding Margie's dark eyes. They stared out from under that deep, black hood. Margie's big hand came up, pulled her head up slightly. Their gaze locked momentarily. Sue stared back, a dull, deep look. Margie blinked, Sue nodding slightly, letting out one slight word.

"Yeah."

"Good. Just remember."

Margie stepped towards the door, adjusting the heavy satchel over her shoulder. The broad strap cut tightly over her big back and chest, pulling her baggy sweatshirt askew slightly. Sue saw her listen closely at the door a moment before pulling the bolt back, stepping out. The blond heard loud voices approaching, just before two of her team mates came into the bathroom. Sue grabbed her hat off the top of the toilet, her sport shoes clicking against the floor as she made her way out.

"Hey, Sue."

Sue nodded with a dopey grin to Tara, the big player patting her shoulder slightly as she passed towards the toilet stalls. The shortstop caught Margie at one of the sinks, washing her hands, letting out a sigh as she dried her hands. She glanced back, grinning slyly at Sue as she passed by Nealie, one of the pitchers.

"Hey, don't forget to clean your hands, Sue! Bet they're all nasty and shit."

Neal unintentionally saved Sue, shooting back quickly. "Shit, Margie you never wash your hands, you need to."

She shoved the big first basemen slightly, Margie swinging back slightly in retaliation, but missing. Sue headed back to the showers, keen not to say anything, least one of her friends caught her still thick breath. The lockers were pretty much thinning out by the time Sue got back. She had come in late as it was. Then being grabbed by Margie in the toilets. Made to go into the stalls with her, and go down on the huge first basemen. Sue put her hat down, dropping down onto the bench, running her hands through her thick, almost red hair. A deal was a deal. But then, maybe it wasn't even that. Sue stood up again, dragging her red jersey off, tossing it into her open locker. Her lithe body hurt. She was eager to get into the showers, clean off the stress of the practice. Wash out her mouth while she was at it. She tasted Margie's fluids still on her lips, wiping her mouth again. That taste seemed to fill her as completely as Margie's big cunt had minutes before.

The blond swallowed, started untying her shoes. All she was thinking about was getting back home. Sue put her shoes down, pulling off her black singlet. Her body was still a little sweaty. A heat born of Margie's closeness, and the act of giving the huge Amazon oral sex.

She mopped her underarms with the singlet, tossing it too. Susan's chest and shoulders were firm with smooth, swimmer's muscle. She was maybe a little on the big side for a shortstop, but her coach had said speed was something they could work on. Sue was all for it. Softball was her life. She wanted to make it big, and she would do anything to improve her fitness to the level she needed to.

The cute blond quickly peeled off her tights and remaining clothes, stripping her panties. She was still a little wet there, her slick cunt free, still partly sticky. She rubbed herself with her damp panties, tossing it into the locker with the rest of her stuff. Naked, she headed to the showers. Sue was all smooth, compact power. At five foot, seven inches her slightly stocky strength showed well in the smooth, almost soft curves of her body.

Everything freed from her mind and body as the hot water washed over her. Sue let out a long, heavy breath, closing her eyes, putting her face into the full force of the water. Its warm embrace caressed her muscles, easing away ache, tight pains. The warmth eased her mind, soothing her soul like the gentle caress of an intimate lover. Sue opened her mouth, taking in some of the hot water to swill around, spit. She leaned both palms against the tiled wall, letting the water catch her thick blond hair. The warmth seemed to drive more in the girls mind. It reminded her of what she wanted. She wished it was the warmth of another. She felt the water run down over her weighty breasts, into the crevice of her shaved pussy, her hand lingering low for a brief moment.

She slid her fingers inside her, her flesh tightening slightly, barely wet with her touch. Sue stroked slightly, parting her lips, rubbing. She couldn't help think again of Margie. The blond thought of her in a slightly different frame of mind. What if it wasn't like that? What if it didn't have to be the way it was.

The brief fantasy passed through her mind. What if it was something more than the one sided deal that it was? Sue felt the thrill of victory. A scholarship. Her dreams coming to reality with word that she would be able to attend New Haven College, and play for the Blue Jays. Sue frowned as she remembered, pulling her finger free of her opening, putting her hands back against the wall. The water stroked gently at her strong back, Sue hanging her head somewhat.

Then working it out. Meeting with the one guy she had heard legends about. Margie Mallory. Sophomore softball player. Finding out how she had pulled strings to get her into the New Haven softball program. She couldn't believe it. Sue had refused to believe it. No college softball player could do shit like that. Her disbelief changed to something else when Margie had put a big arm around her shoulder, talked to her in that low, dark voice she sometimes did.

"Straight up, it can be good for you here, honey. I can make it good for you," the huge first basemen paused slightly. "But you gotta work, you know? You gotta bring the good out of your situation too."

Sue cocked her eyebrow slightly. Margie seemed to press closer. Her presence was intimidating, all-encompassing of even the blond, not to mention the sense of overbearing power.

Margie's voice was quiet. "So how 'bout you start off by going down on a girl?"

Sue was caught off guard, her face showing the confusion. Margie's big arm around her, her huge body pressing against her felt more dangerous then. She felt the heat of the huge first baseman body, the sudden sweat that had broken out on her own.

Margie was, as far as Sue knew was very straight. Had a long lasting relationship with really cute guy on the basketball team here at the college. Sue didn't know his name, but had seen him around a few times. Margie must have heard the rumors of Sue being bisexual. It wasn't a huge secret, but just a rumor.

"Suck my pussy." Margie repeated.

She explained, Sue silent, barely comprehending.

"It's simple. I got you up in here. You wanna stay up in the Blue Jays? You go down on me."

Susan's head swum with the questions. The confusion. The disbelief. All passed in time. The shortstop ran a hand over her face, wiping at her wet features. Strong Nordic features, full lips, a pert nose. Her green eyes glanced forward at the whiteness of the tiles before her, her hand passing back through her hair.

How long had she been here? Sue couldn't remember exactly. How many times had she gone down? That was about as hard to guess. Sue found her mind wandering back to her thoughts, her wistful fantasies about Margie. What it would be like to make love to a girl like her. Have her do she same back. Her hand was again stroking a now wet womanhood. Sue lost herself to the warmth, the gentle embrace of her hand. Her shoulders rose and fell against the striking rain of water. The water fell down over her back, her chest. Eventually streaming down over her moving hand, and thighs. With one hand steadied against the wall, Sue ran her hand upward, through her slick slit. She closed her eyes on her fantasies, feeling the warm pleasure of the water and her erotic masturbation showering over her.

"Hey, Sue!"

The blond froze, torn from her pleasures with a sharp jolt. She recognized Tara's voice, not turning around, but doing her best to move her hand slowly from her throbbing groin. Sue managed to glance back over her shoulder, giving her teammate a brief wave, running her hands through her hair.

"You going to that party tomorrow night?"

Tara sounded like she was going through her locker, Sue doing her best not to think about her wet pussy.

"Uh, where is it?"

"Over at Shawn's place."

Sue nodded a little, turning the hot tap down. Tara called out again.

"Hey, you know most the teams gonna be there."

Sue let the cold water run a little longer before shutting it off, and turning to get her towel with still a trail of juice running down her thigh. She looked nonchalant, mopping herself down, seeing Tara still at her locker, just up from her own. The outfielder was dumping some clothes into a bag. She saw the big girls eyes drop slightly, flutter away from Susan's naked form.

Sue noticed Tara was barely out of her Blue Jays jersey, and she was already in her Pete Rose one, like always.

"Yeah, I'll probably make it." "I'll pass by your place around eight if you want," Tara glanced back at the blond, keeping her eyes on Susan's. "Pick you up."

"Yeah. That'd be cool."

Sue wrapped her towel around her waist, ignoring the Tara's stare. She knew Tara was used to seeing naked guys around the showers. She preferred the outfielder didn't see or smell her pulsing pussy, after having caught her rubbing one off in the showers. Sue knew Tara well enough anyway. She was a good gal, friendly and sensitive. Sue had always wondered why Tara hadn't hooked up with someone already.

She definitely wasn't lacking in looks or size. Soft features, maybe a little on the tall side, nice boobs, ending in a tiny waist and full butt.

. "Cool then," Tara patted her hand on Susan's strong shoulder. "Ill catch you then, alright?"

Sue nodded back, opening up her locker. She didn't need the towel, or to wait for Tara to leave anymore. Her pussy had since calmed down. Tara was already heading out as she tugged her towel back off her hips, began to mop herself down. Man, she couldn't wait to get home.

***

 

The Lesbian Sessions by Candice Christian

 

 

This newest release is a return to the Wrestling Mothers Club genre. There seems to be a following I didn’t realize was there, for these stories.

Liz enters a Waffle House, late in the evening for something to eat, after an earlier appointment. When she arrives she notices a young girl in her yoga classes, Nancy, and they begin a conversion that takes many unusual twists and turns.
Nancy, is so enthused with Liz’s story, she want to here more, especially when she finds out she is a Lesbian Session Wrestler.
They begin to meet at a coffee house during the day to continue the conversation which is a one way thing. Liz tells Nancy some spell binding and spine tingling tales of her sessions. So engrossed is Nancy she asks for a session.
Liz agrees, but does Nancy know what she is getting into.

***

A sample of The Lesbian Sessions:

I finished drying, left my hair damp, for sake of utility, it was going to get messed up anyway. And headed to the where she said the match would take place, in her workout room. I didn’t bring it up but Liz’s husband didn’t seem to be home tonight. If she wanted to explain I guess she would, I wasn’t going to ask. 

“So Nancy,” Liz began “now it’s just us girls, I think we should get into some salacious girl talk.That will get the tone set.”

“Ok, you first.” I replied “Did you have anything unusual happen in any of your sessions today?”
Liz thought for a moment and then spoke “My noon session was pretty tame. Sheila, my client’s name, and I wrestled in just panty hose. A first for me. Not really a fan because the material is rough. 

Knowing that the conversation was about to move on, I quickly intervened.

“So why don’t you tell me about you most outrageous moment in the panty hose session?” I asked.

“Well, nothing like outrageous, she pinned me once and made me submit once.” Liz laughed “But I did force one submission by holding her in a body scissors, her back to my stomach,  and squeezing her breast and pinching her nipples. I think that why I lost in the end. I really pissed her off and she fought like a woman possessed.”

“Wow, you’re wild Liz.” I said impressed. “How did she make you submit?”
“Ermmm…” She stalled for a second, then thought ahh to heck with it “Sheila got me in an, inverted belly to back, head scissors, with those rough panty hose scraping my face. I was not so painful, rather annoying. I got so wrapped up in trying to escape, she was able slide her hand down inside my panty hose and pull on my labia with wild abandon. She saved that one for the deciding fall since I would not get a chance to retaliate. I hate wrestling in pantyhose.”
There was a stunned silence, following by me asking a barrage of questions.
“Was that the most excitement of all today’s sessions?” I asked starting to feel my panties getting moist.
“No, sex wrestling with Susan was, it was some fantasy stuff but mainly just submission wrestling. We wrestle topless and wear tiny thong panties. Actually just a strip up the back and the front. Since we both shave our pubes, the strings can get embedded up into a pussy quickly.”

“Oooh! So just a regular wrestling match then? Submission style.” I asked. Really turned on now.

Liz looked a bit anxious then answered, “Well the submission had be by orgasm, by Tribbing. The loser is the one that can’t take anymore stimulation and submits. Not the total of orgasms.”

“Did you win that one? I mean, you certainly must have gotten turned on during the other sessions and I bet you would have cum the moment her clit touched yours. That is what Tribbing is right, rubbing pussies together to climax?” I looked at Liz somewhat defiantly.

I could tell Liz was tired of my questions and answered, “I did win that one by the way. I have a sore cunt so I’m in a bad mood sort of. I told her we needed to use baby oil or some other lube. But my client was walking like she had done a couple hours on a mechanical bull, she probably has an ice pack on her pussy.  So come on let’s get this match going, enough talk about me. Unless you have a story about face sitting some Milf from yoga class?” she smiled wanly. All business. Totally in character now.

You can see more at Candice Christian’s website and get even more information;
http://HTTP://CANDICECHRISTIAN20.WIXSITE.COM/WEBSITE

DAUGHTER OF DARKNESS

by

Candice Christian

 amazon.com/author/candicechristian

 

 

Kait has plans to meet friends, Ted and Carol, on her last night in town. Unfortunately they are called away on a family emergency and they have Shari, their daughter, stand in for them and entertain Kait.

Kait, the mature woman and the pretty teenager, Shari, hit it off at once, and it's not long before the two are sweating up the sheets, and exploring every orifice on the other woman.

They try every thing they can to pleasure the other, from oral gratification, to scissoring or tribadism.

Kait realizes she need to keep the affair under wraps from her family and Shari's making Shari her dark secret; of Daughter of Darkness

 

Sample of 'Daughter of Darkness'

 

 

It was my last evening in San Francisco and I had been invited to spend it at the coffee lounge just around the corner from my hotel. I had spent many happy evenings there with the owners Ted and Carol. I had spent the last five months working at the 'Frisco office of the company that I worked for trying to salvage something after a manager had run off with a large amount of the assets. I had recovered most of what was missing and felt that I was leaving after a job well done.

I walked down the street and could see the coffee lounge ahead of me but it looked as though it was closed. I carried on and walked up the steps that led to the entrance. I looked through the small windows in the door but could see no sign of life, so feeling disappointed I turned and started to slowly walk back to my hotel. I had only walked about twenty yards or so when I heard the sound of someone running up behind me, and then I heard someone calling "Kait, please wait." I turned around and there stood Shari, Ted and Carol's daughter. She told me that they had been called away at very short notice to visit Carol's mom who had been taken to hospital after falling down some steps. This had resulted in a broken hip and wrist along with some cuts and bruises. As Carol couldn't drive, Ted considered it his duty to take her even though it would mean closing the coffee shop for the evening, as cover couldn't be arranged until the morning. I told Shari that I quite understood and that I would walk back to the hotel and have a quiet night but she said that she wouldn't hear of it. She said that I was welcome to come for the promised coffee and that she would welcome a chance to have a girlie chat.

Shari was what you might describe as petite. Slim, but not skinny and being less than five feet tall she gave the impression that she was only aged about fourteen or fifteen. I knew that she was in fact eighteen as I had attended her birthday party a few weeks earlier. We walked back to the coffee shop and as I followed her up the few steps, which led to the side door, she walked through a shaft of sunlight that shone through the light summer dress she was wearing to reveal the perfect shape of her young body. I followed her through the door which she held open for me and as I walked into the large hall way she closed and locked the door behind us. Shari ushered me into the lounge and offered to take my jacket. I slipped this off and she made a remark about how much she liked my dress. It was just a white cotton summer dress with inch wide shoulder straps and a small blue bow at the front. It wasn't a very short affair, with the hemline just above my knees. Hers was a much skimpier article. A very pale printed flowered pattern on a thin cotton material. The shoulder straps were very narrow and the hemline was about five or six inches higher than mine. There was a sofa along one wall with a small dining table and chairs beside, tucked up a corner. In the center were two recliner chairs facing each other with a small coffee table to one side and another small table beside one of the chairs on which stood a small electric fan? This was giving a very welcome light breeze on this very warm evening.

Shari told me to take a seat and she would go and make coffee. She went out of a door on the other side of the room to the one from which we had entered and I could soon hear her putting the necessary things onto a tray. She returned shortly with this tray and placed it onto the coffee table which was positioned between but to the side of the reclining chairs and sat down on the facing chair to the one I had occupied. I had slipped my shoes off and slid my feet up onto the chair so that my heels were tucked up, touching the cheeks of my bottom, resulting in the hem of my dress riding up by about four of five inches revealing a fair amount of my bare legs. Shari poured out the coffees, not needing to ask how I liked mine as she had served me hot drinks many times in the past. She placed a filled cup onto the table beside me and placed another beside her chair and then kicked off her own shoes and slid her feet into the same position as I had mine. 

We talked about my future plans and she asked if I was sad at leaving and I told her that if it wasn't for my son back home I would be more than happy to stay. She asked how old my son was and seemed genuinely surprised when I answered that he was almost twenty. At that point she asked how old I was and I told her that I would be thirty-eight the next day. She said that she was stunned and that if asked she would have guessed that I was well under thirty years old, a comment for which I thanked her. With that she said that she would go and fetch some wine from the rack and we would have a drink to celebrate my forthcoming birthday. I said that I would very much like that but I would have to use the bathroom first. 

As I went to stand up I caught my foot on one of Shari's shoes and lost my balance. I stretched out a hand to stop myself from falling only to catch the edge of the coffee tray sending the pot and it's now luke-warm contents spewing onto my dress as I staggered back into the chair. Shari leapt up and picked the coffee pot from my lap and quickly placed it back onto the table before grabbing my hand and helping me out of the chair. She then led me to the door that she had gone through earlier and led me down a passageway to a stairway which we climbed. I could feel the cold coffee on my skin as it soaked its way through my dress and panties. At the top of the stairs was a door that Shari opened to reveal a bathroom and she told me to go in and take off my now sodden dress and anything else that was wet and then said that she would fetch something for me to put on. She pulled the door behind her and I did as she said and removed my dress. My panties were also soaked so I removed those as well and stood there in just my bra. There was a tap at the door and it opened slightly as Shari's arm came into view holding a toweling gown. She asked me to hand her the stained, wet clothes and as I did so she told me to put the gown on and when I was ready to make my way back to the lounge. At this point I heard her walk back down the stairs. I put the gown on but it was quite small and although it did fit round me it finished just below my bottom. Because of its length, and both of us being slim, I guessed that the gown was one of Shari's own. With my now bare pussy only inches away from exposure I knew that I would have to be very careful as to how I sat.

I made my way back to the lounge where Shari had just finished wiping the remains of the coffee pot contents from the floor. I remarked that the gown looked a little skimpy on me and gave a little twirl as if to demonstrate, holding the bottom of the gown down at the front so as not to expose myself, or Shari to any embarrassment. Shari said that on me it looked very sexy and alluring and much nicer than it did on her, confirming that the garment was indeed hers. I apologized for the coffee incident but she told me not to be silly, as accidents happened to everybody, and besides I shouldn't keep my lovely legs hidden away behind long dresses and the incident had given me a chance to show them off. I felt very flattered and told her so.

Mid April Update!

Well it has been a month with a lot of late nights, I am in a Zone, so to speak and just have to get the stories on to my laptop. I hope you have had a chance to read some of them.

Since Easter here are the titles: A Taste of Her, Destiny's Child, Wrestling Mother's Club part 3, For Your Love, A Certain Girl, I Wish You Would, Evil Hearted You, Honey in Your Hips and the latest.... Reflections of a 'Lost Woman'.

You can view these and all my other books at my author page:  amazon.com/author/candicechristian

CANDICE CHRISTIAN'S 'I WISH YOU WOULD'!

　amazon.com/author/candicechristian

Brittany and Lizbeth have a horrid working relationship. Brittany is a struggle professor trying to earn tenure, and Lizbeth is doing her best to see she doesn't.

The reason for Lizbeth's hatred escapes Brittany and it begins to take its toll on her both physically and mentally. Her social life is nearly non-existent, and at every corner things keep getting worse.

One night all the stars align and Brittany has a date, that turns to a disaster, she meet Sarah the lusting prostitute and discovers, what she believes in the secret of Lizbeth's hatred.

 

SAMPLE OF 'I WISH YOU WOULD'

 

Even in this day and age of feminine equality and fairness for all, the world of academia is still totally male dominated. All throughout my career I've had to fight tooth and nail to get anywhere; putting up with patronizing lecturers during my undergrad years, convincing ugly balding old professors to give me a Ph.D. research post then struggling through years of dealing with both to finally get a lecturing post. Not that I'm complaining mind, not really. They say these things build character, and I suppose they have done. But I had thought finally getting a lectureship, working under a fellow female professor, I might be able to concentrate on my job for once. Fat chance.

Professor Lizbeth E. Zarrat is without a doubt the worst boss I'd ever had, and that includes working with some pretty seedy individuals in nightclubs during my undergraduate days. Technically, since I'm now a full member of the University staff, I'm not answerable to anyone short of the principle and the University itself, but of course it doesn't really work like that. I was given the unenviable task of teaching the 1st year course, and Lord High Lizbeth of Stuck-up is the head of first and second year engineering undergrad teaching.

Perhaps I should have pointed out earlier I'm a Civil Engineer, an area not traditionally over filled with women. I'm cursed, in a way, with being attractive with it. I know I should be happy, plenty of my friends get really annoyed with me, mock or otherwise . . . , when I complain about being attractive, but it can be a serious handicap when you're trying to be taken seriously, especially by men. Nobody ever really though I was any good at any work, they tended to assume I was rather dumb eye-candy that had taken an engineering course to get a man with a good job. At least I'm not blonde. . .

I've had a couple of boyfriends, but they never really lasted long. I'm sick and tired of being patronized by guys who couldn't see beyond my figure and looks. I'm not going out with you to get help with the mathematics and I certainly will not do THAT just to get your inferior assessment answers that are probably not even half as good as the ones I did two weeks ago when it was handed out!

Sorry, I'm flitting back and forth between my current life and my history, I hope you're not getting too confused! I know who I am at the moment is based on who I have been and the things that have shaped my life. Perhaps I should give you a little more of my life story. My name is Dr Brittany Byrd, I'm 29 years old and I was born and raised in Scotland. I had a happy enough up-bringing, was considered a bit of freak because I enjoyed school - very very silly to admit in the rougher Labor voting socialist areas of Scotland - and generally kept myself to myself. My parents, God bless them, were never rich, but brought me up without ever really needing anything. There were plenty of things I wanted I never got, either because they were too expensive, or deemed not-for-girls, but I suppose I never really needed them anyway.

It was always assumed that like my elder sister and my parents before, I would go to University. However, it was assumed I would study something a little more lady-like that Civil Engineering. Nobody objected, but it was talked about in hushed tones, like the embarrassing Great-Grandmother who was "self-employed" during her youth.

Nobody at my University or work ever really took me seriously, and although at the time I didn't think it bothered me, I guess it must have done, otherwise I wouldn't be making such a big deal of it now. I think what annoys me the most is that even by the time I was in my final year they still didn't think I was serious. I had been in the top 5% of my year, every year, and yet still I was treated as the dumb girl only along for the ride. Anyway, that's something I should put behind me, but it's given me this drive to always prove myself, to show that just because I'm an attractive woman I'm not stupid.

Once I'd finished my degree, I managed to find a research post, studying for my doctorate. The only reason I got it was because the professor was convinced that if he had three years to try, he was bound to get in my pants at least once. I don't drink, so his plans at every research group meal or party always failed, and in the end I finished on time, and the filthy old bloke had to accept it was never going to happen.

A few years of bouncing around post-doc jobs and I finally got an interview for a lectureship at a mediocre university. I knew it was working with Professor Zarrat, I'd read a lot of her papers, and spoken to her once or twice at conferences. Although she'd never impressed me as a person, her work was extremely impressively, few engineers could boast as high a success rate within her field. Fortunately, it was slap bang in my area too, and when the interview arrived I was perfectly prepared. I had invested in a new suit, I say invested because although I'm usually very careful with money (you have to be surviving on post-doc wages) I'd spent most of my month’s wages on it. It's difficult to hide my chest, but I was happy with the job it did. Basically, I wanted to make myself as asexual as possible, so it would be my work and skills that the interviewers would concentrate on.

The panel consisted of Professors Zarrat, Bourne and Pidgeon, the three heads of school in effect. Bourne and Pidgeon were fine, they seemed nice enough men. Pidgeon's nearing retirement and you could tell in his manner that ultimately he doesn't really care anymore - but in a happy go-lucky way. Bourne runs the whole engineering school, and is 100% motivated by research. Everyone within a university has to do research, there are no purely lecturing posts, and because many academics never visit the real world, where people have real jobs and real lives, they thinks the entire universe runs on academic research, and primarily doing better and harder research that your fellow universities. So in other words, he wanted to know how good I was at publishing papers. Fortunately, I had a wealth of completed projects, and he was suitably impressed.

Lizbeth Zarrat, however, was a bitch. Because our fields overlap, she knew all the tiny flaws and problems with my work. They weren't special to me, if you take any results and keep asking "Why?" sooner or later the answer will become "I don't know". I model real world situation in a laboratory, and assumptions have to be made, pardon me for not being able to fit an entire canal into my lab! Her questions were so picky, worse than any post-presentation ones, that I really believed I must have failed her standards completely. I'm not one given to crying, but it was pretty hard to drive home that evening and for the first time in 8 years I was sorely tempted to reach for the wine bottle.

It was a pleasant, but scary surprise, to be phoned the next day by a cheerful professor Bourne to tell me I had secured the job, pending one year probation. To be honest, I was so delighted I didn't really question the probation period, and I still haven't, but I don't know if all new members have the same condition. Considering it was Professor Zarrat that was going to write my final report, perhaps I should have checked it earlier.

It was a nightmare of a year. I was thrown straight into the deep end both with research and teaching. Lizbeth gave me a completely new course to teach, five hours a week plus organizing tutorials, laboratory workshops and assessments. Then, on top of that, she passed me a new research project with a very limited grant that needed results by the end of the year. Now, I suppose a bit like my friends you're thinking five hours a week sounds pretty simple. But it's not, because I had to prepare five hours of lectures, which means at least ten hours of prep, plus the tutorials and laboratory work, which easily brings me up to a full week. Then the additional research, a project that really should have taken 18 months to two years, meant I was doing 70 to 80 hour weeks.

Things came to a head about half way through the year when despite my best efforts to the contrary, I was forced to take a day off with a severe cold. I'd tried desperately hard to keep going, but in the end I simply couldn't get out of bed. By the next day I was able to come into work, but only just, and within five minutes of getting into my pokey little office, Lizbeth was knocking at the door.

"Come in"

"Ah, Dr. Byrd, made it into work today then?"

The tone of her voice was nothing short of insulting, but I tried to ignore it, and not let her know how frustrated I was with her.

"Yes. . . "

"Good. I don't appreciate last minute absences."

Perhaps my deep calming breath would have been more effective if I hadn't had to open my mouth like a fish to do it. . .

"The only reason I didn't let the school know in advance was because I hoped I could recover sufficiently well overnight. Unfortunately, I did not."

"Well, it's simply not good enough. See it doesn't happen again, you let a lot of people down."

I don't think a even a ten minute calming breath would have been enough this time. I was tired, ill, and sore and felt I'd been worked like a bloody slave for six months. Finding energy I didn't really know that I had, I leapt to my feet and my weakened control snapped.

"Now look here you stupid bitch!" I screamed, "I work damn hard and if you work me so hard I get ill then it's not my bloody fault that I have to take some time off! If you weren't such an uppity cow that never. . ."

The slap rocked me back on my heels; for a small woman, she's got some force. I was dazed for a second or two, and my cheek stung so badly it was bright red. I could feel the blow had upset my nose too, and I took a second to dab my face with a tissue before turning to see her again.

The slap hadn't really calmed me down and I was all ready to begin screaming again but I stopped dead in my tracks. Her eyes were wide open and staring, extremely shiny, the black pupils looked tiny surrounded by the light blue iris, pin point aimed at me. Her usually tied back blonde hair had come loose and lay around her shoulders, slightly curled, with a lot more definition than I ever expected and her mouth was turned down in a slightly twisted frown behind clenched lips. Despite myself, I had to admit should could have been a far more beautiful woman than she let herself be. And with the amazing speed that thoughts can come in these times, I felt a certain empathy with her, is this what I would become in ten years? Still young, still attractive, but forced to hide it for professionalism sake?

Before I stood any chance of getting even soppier, she snapped back at me, turned and stormed past the crowd gathered at the door.

I was actually forced to ask someone else what she'd said, I'd been too shocked to hear. Her threat was to show me what real hard work was like. . .