Amber Collins parked in her driveway, home from a short but satisfying vacation. One of the many reasons she had left was her neighbor, the beautiful and famous Kat McNamara. Many people would kill to have her problem: Kat was completely and hopelessly infatuated with her, but Amber had lived next to Kat for many years. The sheen of celebrity had worn off long ago. To her, Kat was a beautiful, lovesick, puppy, a constant annoyance she was forced to deal with. Amber expected it was probably too much to hope the infatuation had died down in her absence, but when she walked into her home, tired and craving a drink, the woman leapt nearly a foot in the air.
There at her kitchen island, quietly sipping a glass of orange juice, was Katherine Grace McNamara, resplendent in crimson hair and emerald eyes. When the shock of finding someone in her locked house passed, she wondered how the girl had managed to get a copy of her key. Amber strolled over to the fridge, poured herself a tall glass of water, and considered what she should do with her uninvited house guest.
"Amber?" Kat questioned, suddenly noticing she wasn't alone. Amber! Hello again. When did you get back? It's very nice to see you again. Would you like me to help you with anything? Anything at all?" she asked eagerly.
"Christ, Kat," Amber said with an exasperated sigh. "You scared me half to death. What are you doing here?"
"Oh I...Jesus, I'm sorry. I...well... I was keeping an eye on the house for you while you were gone. I've made certain everything is neat and spotless. I didn't want you having to do too much when you got back. I'm sorry I startled you. It's just I was very worried about things here, so I used the spare key under the mat. Then I was worried I'd lose your spare, so I copied it just in case. I'll leave the copy when I go."
She broke into my house because she was worried, Amber thought to herself. She's been in my home, in my stuff, unsupervised for two weeks. She thought about lecturing Kat for the tenth time, about explaining that people just couldn't decide to be volunteer house sitters. Amber thought about that until she spied Kat's supple, young, ass. Then an entirely new thought entered her mind.
"There is something you might be able to help me with... But.. oh, never mind. You're probably just into guys, not guys and girls."
"I actually do like some girls, Amber," Kat replied eagerly, struggling not to stare directly at her. "I'd be happy to help. What do you need?" she asked, curious as to what type of service would require her to like girls.
"Let's say that my vacation was spent indulging certain desires," Amber replied coyly, eyeing Kat up apprasingly, "and I'd like to indulge them with you, pet. Do you think you could help me with that?"
"Um...d...desires, Amber?" Kat stammered nervously, blushing softly and fidgeting under her host's glare. She'd had many dreams about Amber that featured the word, but she never thought she'd hear the woman say it to her in real life. "What kind of desires," she asked, looking quite shy."
"Pain, Kat. Torture," Amber clarified, running a hand across Kat's arm. "Think about the best orgasm you've ever had," she continued, letting her fingernails scrape the girl's skin. "Know this: I can make it hurt so good that you'll wonder why you ever thought you'd had great orgasms."
Kat jumped a little at the sensation Amber's fingernails caused, blushing crimson at the mention of orgasms. She inwardly prayed Amber would never discover that Kat had the best orgasm of her life on her knees next to the woman's clothes hamper.
"You want to...torture me?" Kat replied, swallowing hard. "I...why?" she asked, feeling a twinge of fear run up her spine.
"I've seen how you look at me, Kat," Amber cajoled, leaning in and kissing the actress along her jawline. "I'm pretty sure you want to fuck me. You have a thing for older women, I guess. But torture is the kind of sex I like best, so if we were to fuck, yes, you'd get tortured."
Kat quivered all over as the pleasure of Amber's kiss roiled within her. Yet her eyes were still eloquent of some dark, unknown, fear, as she looked up at Amber. She was a moth before a flame. Maybe the moth knows the flame will destroy it, maybe not. But either way, the moth does not fly away. Nor did Kat turn and run, despite her fears telling her to do so.
"I...well...I...you've seen...," Kat stammered, sighing deeply. "I guess I'm not very good at hiding it, am I? I...what do you want to do to me, Amber?" Kat asked quietly.
"Well, you don't seem very experienced," Amber replied, pulling Kat closer and licking along her neck. "So we'll start small. See how you do with nipple clamps."
"Nipple...clamps?" Kat breathed fearfully, slowly following Amber, who had taken off for her basement door. "A..a...alright, Amber, I'll try." The heavy, black, door opened ominously, and Amber stared to go down.
