Twenty Years to Life

This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere.

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The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission.

This story takes place in the entirely fictional city of Springfield, California, so don't go looking for it on a map. And in my little fictional world, there are no unwanted pregnancies or STD's, except as plot driving devices. The author encourages the practice of safe-sex.

Also, although this story (and subsequent chapters) are placed in the "Novels and Novellas" category, that is primarily because no other single category made any more sense. This overall storyline has some aspects of group sex, interracial sex, lesbian sex, heterosexual sex, anal sex, as well as BDSM sexual activity. If any of these types of activities bother you, you might want to stop reading now.

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"Twenty Years to Life" Part 3

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Torrie and Rachel were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa in Torrie's above-garage apartment. Rachel looked somewhat stunned, and Torrie was nervously biting her bottom lip. She had just leveled with her best friend about something. Five months earlier, Torrie had entered into a sexual relationship with Isabel Turner, and it was a relationship of bondage and submission. Two months earlier, their relationship had become public knowledge after a lingering neuro-psychological disorder had almost resulted in Torrie's death. While a combination of medication and exercise had helped restore Torrie's state of mind to where it was supposed to be, she had still felt bad about keeping her relationship with Isabel a secret from Rachel, even though the couple had their reasons for secrecy. Isabel and Torrie had discussed the issue, and had finally decided to come clean about the nature of their relationship with close friends. They didn't want people to get concerned if Torrie started acting a little strangely from time to time.

Torrie hoped that Rachel would be able to handle knowing what she suddenly knew. They were an interesting pair; Torrie was a California surfer girl with pink hair, while Rachel was a black girl with big breasts and an attitude to match. They had lived down the street from each other for many years before Torrie's parents had found a better place, and the two of them had been going to the same schools since they were kids.

"You . . . like this sort of stuff?" Rachel asked.

"More than chocolate," Torrie said. "I wanted to tell you for a long time. It was just hard. I didn't want you to think I was weak or anything. Then I stopped caring and . . . well, you know the rest."

"Damn, could you be just a little normal?" Rachel said, then wished she hadn't. Torrie had visibly blanched. "Torrie, I didn't mean it like that. I mean . . . first, you're ungodly smart, but you hate school. Then you told me you were gay. Now, you like being tied up and whipped . . ."

"No whips," Torrie muttered. "They're a little too dangerous, and they leave these marks . . ."

"NOT the point," Rachel said. "And I've seen you together, but I've never seen her ordering you around like that."

"We have rules now. She wanted us to be a normal couple sometimes, so we came up with times and places that she can't command me. And she wanted me to start spending more time with you guys again. I wanted to spend more time with you guys. I hate saying this," Torrie said, her eyes teary, "but I can't do this all on my own. I'm scared of what might happen if I start to slip again . . ."

"That won't happen," Rachel said vehemently. "We won't let it."

"But I want you guys in my life, but I want Isabel too, and I want what she and I have now. And I want you to understand that."

Rachel shrugged then smirked. "Torrie, I'm NEVER going to understand you. That's what makes you so fuckin' fun. You don't need my permission to be a freak. Hell, I'm the LAST one who should be bein' critical of someone else for stuff like that. So where is your 'mistress' anyway?"

Torrie smiled, pouncing down the sofa and hugging her friend. "She's STILL mending bridges with an old friend. Her name is Janine. She and Isabel had a thing back in high-school."

"Doesn't that make you jealous?"

"Not really. Both of them are sort of ostracized from their old friends now that their secrets are out. Besides, Janine's cute and Isabel may give me to her for a while as a peace offering . . ."

"Get OUT! You do that shit?"

"Outside of this room and under a few other circumstances, I'll do ANYTHING she tells me to."

"God, I can only fuckin' IMAGINE what Jeremy would do if he knew."

Torrie blushed. "Actually, there's something else I need to tell you. You probably won't like it, but it's something you should know . . ."

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Across town . . .

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"You want me to what?!" Janine Carpenter almost shouted before getting her voice in check.

"Fuck my girlfriend. I thought I'd made that clear." Isabel was smiling. She had been having the same conversation with Janine that Torrie had been having with Rachel. Isabel was happier than she'd imagined she would be having Janine back in her life. Janine had been Isabel's only REAL friend in a world phonies and facades. Janine's father had gone to jail for tax evasion and her parents had divorced, leaving the once affluent young woman as an "average" person. That meant she was no longer in Isabel's social stratosphere, meaning the two weren't able to socialize as much as they would have liked. A chance encounter just over a month earlier had put them back in touch, and Isabel was determined not to let her friend slip away again.

She and Janine had hung out a couple of times a week, sometimes with Torrie around and sometimes without. Isabel had been trying to think of a way to take her sexual domination of Torrie to the next level, and what better way than to use her to provide pleasure to someone that Isabel had to some degree wronged? It seemed like a perfectly sensible idea to her. She and Torrie had discussed the idea of sharing the submissive's body . . . actually, Isabel had discussed it and had spanked Torrie until she agreed. But she had been smiling when she said "yes." And the fact that Janine had arranged for a job interview for Torrie at the Victoria's Secrets she worked at for Torrie sealed the deal.

"But . . . listen, I told you I understand about what happened. I know the rules of the social elite. You don't have to . . . do . . . this."

"I . . . I know. And I need you to know that I am . . . with . . . Torrie. I just thought it might be fun, and maybe you could understand what I do and why. She . . . and this . . . are big parts of my life now."

"Do you love her?"

Isabel blushed. "I think I do. Don't tell her!" she said, realizing what she had admitted. "I want to, but in my own time."

"So you love her, but you also tie her up and make her into a sex slave, and you want to share your cute slave/girlfriend with me."

"She gives good head!" Isabel said. She knew Janine had a bit of a wild streak anyway, and she could tell she had her on the ropes. "C'mon! I need to further her 'education,' and I want her first couple forays into that area to be with people I know and trust. People like you. Did I mention she gives REALLY good head?"

Janine was blushing from ear to ear, but she was smiling as well. "Okay, what do I do?"

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The next day . . .

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"Have you taken your medicine? Did you have something to eat when you took it?" Isabel asked.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Now, I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. This is the first time we've had company here, and Janine was nice enough to get you a job interview where she works. So I expect you to show your gratitude." Isabel was quite pleased with her pet's appearance. Torrie was wearing a PVC French Maid outfit with a skirt that barely covered her ass, a top that left her toned midsection exposed and pushed her cleavage up. She also had on fishnet stockings, a black g-string and heels, and her make-up would have been the pride of streetwalkers everywhere. With Isabel's new job as a mall manager, she was still able to live the life to which she had been accustomed. It wasn't as profitable as things would have been if she and her father were still amiable, but it was something Isabel had gotten on her own. And having an influx of money again allowed her to buy new toys and outfits for her serving girl.

Isabel herself was wearing a beautiful evening dress, but the pretty wrapping didn't fool Torrie for a minute. She knew that her mistress had something else on under it, and she couldn't wait to see it.

Isabel stopped when she was standing behind Torrie, admiring her girlfriend's taut body. She felt her heart racing in anticipation of the evening's activities. She ran her tongue from Torrie's shoulder up her neck until it reached the girl's ear. She sucked on that cute little earlobe, then whispered, "You look so completely fuckable, you little bitch!" And she meant it. Torrie had been working hard to get into the finest shape of her life. Once Torrie's mental state was on solid ground again, she had started going back to an aerobics class she was taking where the women were taught to move like exotic dancers. It was apparently quite a workout! Little did Torrie know that her mistress was planning on putting that training to the test. Isabel had already found out when all the local strip clubs had their amateur nights, and she was going to take her slave to each and every single one.

The doorbell rang, and Isabel straightened her back. It was show time. "Get the door," she ordered.

Torrie obediently went and let Janine in. She had met Janine a couple of times, but it was clear that the newcomer hadn't anticipated Torrie looking like she was. Torrie kept her eyes pointed slightly down as she took Janine's purse and placed it Isabel's bedroom.

"Okay, she's hot!" Janine whispered heatedly to Isabel. But Isabel remained composed.

"She's of suitable stock," she replied. "Hurry up," she snapped at the bedroom. "Dinner is getting cold."

Torrie hurried out of the bedroom and began setting the table. Janine noticed that the girl's skirt often flared up and exposed that cute little ass. She wondered if Torrie was doing it on purpose. At one point, the girl made a little too much noise as she put Janine's plate on the table.

"Good help is hard to find these days," Isabel growled. "Grab the table you worthless whore!"

Janine was shocked to hear her friend say such things to the woman she cared so much about, even though she had been trying to prepare herself for this. She watched as Torrie firmly grabbed the edge of the table. Isabel grabbed a wooden spoon out of a drawer and lifted up the edge of Torrie's skirt. Then she laid a sharp, loud "thwack" across those taut buns, and the skin turned slight red under the blow. Janine looked at Torrie's face, and the girl was biting her bottom lip. While not exactly a loose woman, Janine had been with enough girls to know that while the blow may have stung, Torrie had enjoyed it. Isabel gave two more swats with the spoon, then put it next to her own plate.

"You need to have the right utensils for dinner," Isabel said with a smirk. She got another wooden spoon out and put next to Janine's place setting. Torrie wandered over and pulled their guest's chair out. After Janine was seated, she did the same for Isabel. "See," her mistress said. "A little bit of discipline, and she actually gets something right." She patted Torrie on the ass. "Now, pour the wine," she ordered.

Dinner was pleasant, if a little odd. Janine and Isabel chatted along like normal friends, being waited on hand and foot by Isabel's sex slave / girlfriend. If Torrie was late pouring a refill or clearing something off the table, she received more swats to the behind. Janine was instructed to deliver some of these blows herself, particularly if Isabel felt the "help" had slighted her guest in some way.

After Torrie had cleared the table after dinner, it was time for dessert. "French silk pie," Isabel said smugly. She knew that was Janine's favorite.

"Oh, my diet is never going to forgive you," Janine said.

"Well actually, dessert is going to be a two-fold event," Isabel informed her as Torrie placed a slice of pie in front of the guest. When Janine looked confused, the host continued. "Well, you will be eating something French, and something French will be eating you. On your knees," she barked at Torrie. "Now I want you to show our guest why it is that I keep you around," she finished.

Torrie crawled under the table, and Janine quickly lost sight of her. But she soon felt hands on the outsides of her legs, pushing her loose skirt up to her hips. 'Shit,' she thought, 'she's actually going to . . .' Her train of thought was cut off as she felt a tongue licking a long swathe across her panties, causing her to shudder.

"Don't forget to eat your dessert," Isabel reminded her, smiling evilly. Janine picked up her fork and sank it into her dessert. Just then, she felt her underwear being pulled down to her ankles, and her chair pulled forward. Her stomach was almost directly against the table and her butt was on the edge of her seat, but these were minor discomforts compared to the pleasurable shudders that started running through her body as Torrie's lips encircled Janine's clit and sucked on it gently.

Isabel was loving the expressions crossing her friend's face. They ranged from confusion to lust, with the latter taking almost complete control. She slipped off one of her high heels and started rubbing the top of her foot against Torrie's crotch under the table, inciting her slave to do a good job.

Torrie needed no such incentive, but she certainly was enjoying it. She was bound and determined to please her mistress by pleasing Janine. She released the girl's clit and started darting her tongue around the girl's mound, then tracing the route in a long, slow motion. Then up the middle she went, lapping like a child with an ice cream cone.

Janine was struggling to devour her dessert. Isabel hadn't been lying about Torrie's ability. She felt the girl's tongue slide deeper into her sexual crevice while her nose bumped against Janine's clitoral hood ever so lightly.

Isabel had hiked up her own dress and was pleasuring herself between bites, and she had inserted her big toe into Torrie's box. She almost laughed when she thought about how concerned she had been that Torrie's return to psychological normalcy might mean an end to their games. In fact it had turned out that Torrie had experienced a passionate and sexual awakening, and this was just the first stop on their new journey together. Isabel made a mental note to give her girlfriend a good solid fucking the next time she got a chance to be "normal" with her.

Janine had the last bite of pie on her fork when she felt a familiar stirring deep in her pleasure center. Her eyes were wide and bright as her pussy twitched and she started to cum. She let out a series of quick gasps directly onto her fork. She had lost the ability to bring that morsel the few remaining inches to her mouth as the woman under the table ate her through the entire orgasm. When she was finally able to move again, she took that last bite into her mouth, and it was the most exquisite morsel of food she had ever consumed.

"Yummy," she practically purred.

"I'm sure it was," Isabel replied a bit smugly. She drug her foot away from Torrie's crotch, wiping it on the inside of the girl's legs before putting her foot back in her shoe. "Come out from under the table you little slut," she said to the invisible girl. "I think we'll retire to the living area and watch some television. Home movies are the order of the evening, I should think."

Torrie was blushing under the table. If these were the movies she thought they were, then Janine would be getting an eyeful indeed. Torrie was instructed to take her "place," which meant kneeling in front of Isabel, eyes pointing downward and awaiting her mistress's next wish. Isabel picked up the remote control and Torrie heard the movie begin behind her. Indeed, Isabel had put in a composite tape of domination sessions the two had experienced. Just from listening, Torrie recognized a couple of strip-tease sessions, several dinner sessions that involved her being strapped to the dining room table and used as a serving dish, and a number of bondage sessions. It was apparent that Janine was enamored with what she saw, and was rubbing her legs together quietly in attempt to achieve some relief. Isabel saw it.

"I think my guest would like to make use of your services," she told Torrie. "Janine, if you wouldn't mind turning sideways so that your back is against the arm of the sofa. Thank you." She grabbed a small back from under the coffee table, and Torrie instantly wondered what was in it. "On my lap whore," she ordered, "and keep that face pointing towards our guest." Torrie slowly, almost cat-like, crawled onto the couch and kept moving until her face was once again directly in front of Janine's crotch. She felt Isabel grabbing her wrists and holding them behind her back. Her mistress reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of velvet-lined handcuffs and secured Torrie's wrists, leaving the girl helpless. Without her hands to support her, Torrie's face fell into Janine's skirt.

Isabel looked at Janine and smiled. "Feel free to make use of her face," she said.

While Janine thought the entire situation was still a bit awkward, she had also become incredibly aroused. She hiked up her skirt (and wondered where her panties had been left) and held Torrie's mouth against her pussy. Janine felt the tongue start to move into her box, causing her to groan.

"I don't recall her telling you to begin," Isabel scolded. "Always wait until they are ready," she added, pulled a wooden paddle covered in rubber out of the bag. "I'm afraid that means its time for your punishment. But don't you DARE stop pleasing our guest. She shouldn't be forced to suffer due to your incompetence." Then Isabel lifted Torrie's skirt, raised the paddle and brought it down swiftly onto Torrie's perfect ass.

When Janine heard the loud SMACK, she noticed a distinct increase in tongue movement. "That lit a fire under the little slut," Janine said, trying to get a little more into the game. "Could you do that again?"

Isabel was enormously pleased at Janine's willingness to participate. "Absolutely. Tell me when she gets to just the right level for you," she finished, then swatted Torrie's ass again, this time on the other cheek. Janine's eyes clouded over as the ends of her mouth crept upward in a wonderful smile. But since she hadn't said to stop . . . SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Torrie's ass was turning beet red, so Isabel decided to giver her a break. She placed the paddle on those stinging cheeks and grabbed a smooth, slim-line vibrator out of the bag. She had packed it for a number of contingencies! She activated the device, pushed Torrie's g-string aside and pushed the toy into her girlfriend's dripping sex. She began thrusting with it, watching Torrie's twat as it spread for the invader.

Torrie was licking frantically in order to please Janine and, in turn, please Isabel. The vibrating sensations emanating from her crotch were delicious torment. She sucked directly on Janine's clit, flicking her tongue against the sensitive nub. Janine's hips raised up, pressing harder against Torrie's face. Janine braced herself on the arm of the couch with her shoulders so she could reach underneath and spread her own ass cheeks.