Mistress Elisha's Oblivion Ch. 1
Natalie Harrington was having a good week. No, an excellent week! The best week of her life--and with her mum still in England for another few days, she could look forward to more of the same.
She felt the last of the wine wash its way down her throat and settle warmly in her stomach. She set the freshly emptied glass on her nightstand and let herself mindlessly scroll through her phone, waiting for the alcohol and pleasant memories to lull her to a contented sleep.
Oh dear, where to start. She'd always been--what did her mum like to call her? A 'social butterfly?' Yes, that was it! She'd taken things to a new level in the last week, but it had been woven into the fabric of her identity for some time. With Kevin after the Bears game--in the back of Jeremy's 1992 Lexus--with Matt after her clarinet lesson--or was it Mike?
It had been seven years since she flew from London to Palmer Lake and though she'd adopted much of her friends' vernacular and speech, she'd never lost that charming lilt in her voice that drove the boys wild. Her accent, working with her bubbly enthusiasm, youthful beauty and positive demeanor allowed her to be a 'social butterfly' with whomever she chose. And she often chose all of the above.
She'd been quite proud when she found herself flapping her wings for the guitar tech of her favorite local band in the back of their large box truck, on a crate of stage lighting with a pile of sweaty performance clothing as a blanket. It was a high that followed her around for days but was nothing compared to the night she fell into the arms of their lead singer, on a real bed this time, in the Colorado Springs Holiday Inn!
Her phone fell from her hands, landing softly by the pillow as she closed her eyes and pushed her hands underneath the covers. She sighed as she felt her fingers slide between her legs, focusing on the memory of Keegan Reilly's seasoned arms spreading her wide as he maneuvered her eager flesh to accept his.
However, as her fingers busied themselves, the memory of Keegan roughly sliding in and out of her began to fade, displaced by the far more potent memory of shitting down her best friend's throat.
Right.
That happened too.
Visions of her climbing on that bed, backing her bum up to Jennifer Thompson's face and treating her mouth like a water closet kept creeping into her mind. She tried, without success, to put Jennifer aside as she brought herself to climax. Ultimately, as she pushed her body over the edge, it was to the sound of Jennifer's throat as she swallowed her final mouthful of shit.
"Fuck," she murmured as she rolled to the side, brushing her hips against the gooey patch of arousal that had collected on the sheets.
How did I get here? She thought. She had been best friends with Jennifer since the eighth grade. When she got to that age where one's hormones begin pulling them in a million directions, Jennifer was one of them. But...it was a line she could never cross!
Now all at once, fate and a well-timed text message had given her the opportunity not only to explore Jennifer's sexuality, but to use her mouth and throat as a loo as well! How does something like that even happen? How could she do that to her best friend? And why did Jennifer seem to like it?
How could she get off on it like that? Natalie thought. Eating shit is just so creepy gross. Ugh! But Jennifer's body as it stretched and convulsed, her restraints digging into her arms as her climax ravaged her soul, spoke volumes. All from swallowing her shit.
Her mind continued to swirl.
And she hadn't even talked to Jennifer about it since. How could she? Well, it's not like she was avoiding her...it just hadn't come up--right? She would have answered if she texted, or even called--of course she would have picked up! And, just how do you have a chat with somebody after you've used their jaw as a bloody sewer anyway? Besides, there was Keegan, and even though she was pretty sure he was still referring to her to his friends as 'The Nineteen Year Old,' he was a damn good fuck. And one of these times, she'd be able to fuck him without thinking about Jennifer. Beautiful blonde, best friend forever Jennifer Thompson...eating her shit. Her stomach turned at the thought of doing what Jennifer had done. "Puke!"
Still, she couldn't help but drift off to the memory of Jennifer's warm tongue rolling around in the pit of her ass and the gentle sounds of her chewing and swallowing, just as she had every night for the last week, fully expecting to be woken by the same thoughts in the morning.
Only this time, it wouldn't be Jennifer and her turn as a human toilet at all. It would be a sound most often caused by her cat.
--
Thump!
"Bibsey!"
Natalie bolted upright. The blankets fell away, allowing her bare chest to bathe in the warm morning light. She scanned her room expecting to see Bibsey, a spry mostly-black tuxedo cat with a small apron of white tucked around his neck, sitting on her desk, looking over a freshly fallen makeup case or iPad. She had come to rely on him as a fairly reliable if occasionally expensive wake up call.
Today, she saw no evidence of her cat, but as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes she caught the glimpse of a faded-pink trainer spiraling towards the large window of her second-story bedroom.
"Thwunk!"
"Bloody fuck!" She whispered, standing up, grasping at her bedspread for covering.
Wrapping her pastel comforter around her body, she ran to the window, forcing it open with one hand while pressing the soft cotton to her chest with the other.
In her garden, she saw none other than Jennifer Thompson, dressed in her high-waisted jeans, body-skimming faded T-shirt, and a single trainer. She was hopping across the lawn to retrieve her second shoe for another volley when Natalie screamed out.
"You're going to break my bloody window!"
"Then turn your bloody phone on then!" Jennifer slipped her shoe on with one hand while bouncing her way to the front sidewalk.
Natalie glanced over to her nightstand to see an empty charger.
"Fuck!"
She dug around under her pillow and found her dead phone, slapping it on its cradle and nearly knocking over her spent wine glass before slipping on a pair of joggers and a neon pink tank top from a crumpled pile on the floor. She staggered down the spiraling oak staircase, pulling her mess of brown into a quick ponytail. Catching Jennifer's silhouette impatiently waiting outside the ornate stained-glass window, she shuffled along the hallway. As she made her way to the foyer, Bibsey emerged from the parlor, weaving between her legs and curling his tail upward.
The large door swung open with a musical squeak. Bibsey, mistaking the noise for that of a rival cat, immediately pressed his body against the hardwood floor, studying the door jam with intensely yellow eyes.
"Jennifer I..." Natalie stood in the doorway with her mouth open, not speaking, her eyes moving rapidly from side to side. With her well worn shirt and tangled blonde hair, Jennifer appeared on her doorstep as she had so often before. Countless times she'd rang her bell for cheer practice, to study for some test or to just sit up for hours in her room, talking about boys and sneaking wine coolers from the mini-fridge in her mum's study. Only recent events and Jennifer's urgent expression said this would be any different.
Jennifer swayed, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Her quivering lips tried several potential emotions before she swallowed emphatically and broke the silence.
"Natalie, look, we had sex ok?" She crinkled her brow and forced a smile. "It's not like we need to be weird about it. Lots of people experiment and..."
"Jen! We didn't have sex, well, we did...but...Jen, I pooed down your throat!"
Jennifer's face began to darken. "Well yeah, but really, that's just another kind of sex if you think about it right?" Her eyes fell between Natalie's legs, where Bibsey was eyeing the open door with designs on an outdoor adventure of his own. "Can I come in?"
"Yes, of course." Natalie shooed Bibsey to the side with her foot as Jennifer walked past.
"And you seemed like you were just fine with it at the time." Jennifer hurried into the house, past the staircase, into the sprawling kitchen, straight to the refrigerator. "Your mom out?"
"Yeah, she flew back to London for some global leadership thing--and yeah, of course I was fine with it. I was piss drunk!" Natalie quickly followed Jennifer into the kitchen.
