This story deals with themes of reluctance and coercion in a lesbian setting. If you think you might be offended please find yourself another story.
*
Chapter 1
I was naked and terrified. I could move nothing but my eyes and could see little except the blankness of a white ceiling. I tried to call out but I had no voice.
I desperately tried to gather my thoughts but I could not even remember my own name. I was breathing more and more quickly, on the edge of panic, and then she loomed over me.
She was young, blonde, beautiful and she had haunted my dreams for days. She put a hand on my forehead and I immediately felt a little calmer but my mind was a confusion of unanswered questions.
She smiled down at me and then moved away. I heard a trickle of water somewhere close by and then felt the warmth of a soft cloth moving slowly over my body. I wanted to ask her where I was and why I had to be bathed but my throat felt dry and constricted.
She worked slowly and carefully, replenishing the cloth from time to time, and for a moment or two I simply surrendered to her ministrations. She washed each of my limbs in turn before patting them dry with a luxuriously fluffy towel and I caught tantalizing glimpses of her as she went about her work.
The room was pleasantly warm but I gasped when she touched the cloth to my bare stomach. She drew a widening circle and I tensed anticipating what was to come.
I felt the sudden wetness on my breast and to my embarrassment I felt my nipple hardening.
"You do like that don't you, you naughty girl."
Her tone was playful but my incapacity made it unsettling. She ran the cloth over my breasts in a manner not entirely consistent with simple hygiene and I hated my body for responding.
She was in no hurry and, whilst I wanted her to stop, I had reached a point where I had begun to crave a firmer touch. She seemed to sense this and she brought her face close to mine.
She looked no more than twenty and her Nordic blue eyes radiated a seeming innocence which was at odds with her perfectly glossed lips. They were full, pouty, a mouth crying out to be kissed.
Almost at once I felt a sense of revulsion and from nowhere an image came to me. It was the face of a man and with it parts of my life fell back into place. The man was my husband and I was imbued with an immediate sense of relief and wellbeing.
I must have smiled because she smiled back at me and at the same time she moved the cloth down between my legs.
"You really are gorgeous..."
I tried to scream, to tell her to leave me alone, but no words would come. I could feel her fingers through the cloth pressing at me with a threatening intimacy and I prayed for it to be over but she seemed oblivious of my plight.
She was breathing a little more deeply and, with her face just inches away, I could smell a minty freshness. For some reason this alarmed me, perhaps hinting at a degree of premeditation, but the thought was lost as I confronted a new crisis.
There was a gentle splash as she dunked the cloth once more but when she touched me again all I could feel was her bare fingers. They ranged over my sex with an easy familiarity, a gossamer touch that made my body shiver.
"Is that good?"
I pleaded with my eyes but she was unperturbed. The tips of her fingers dipped between my legs seeking out the deeper creases. I was acutely aware of their teasing progress but something else came back to me. I normally keep my sex neatly trimmed but she was following a perfectly smooth contour.
I was still worrying about the implications when she traced a single finger along the fringes of my labia and I hissed a sharp breath through my teeth.
"Shall I make it nice for you?"
She took hold of my ankle in both hands and slowly raised my knee. I tried to resist but I was powerless as she repeated the process with my other leg leaving my sex wide open to her attentions.
She sat beside me on the bed and took up where she left off. She used the back of her finger to gently stroke my mound and the paralysis seemed to sharpen my focus. I tried to fix my mind elsewhere but I kept being drawn back to the ever increasing arousal between my legs,
"You smell so sexy."
As soon as she said it I became aware of my own scent which now hung in the air. Whilst my powers of recall were still badly impaired I was certain that no one had ever said such a thing to me before and I was stirred in some way.
For the next few minutes she carried on with the tender massage and my body continued to respond. My nipples were so firm that they ached and I could feel myself growing wetter.
"Look at this..."
It was a rhetorical statement. She leaned closer to my sex making me redden with embarrassment, and pressed her fingertip to my labia. There was an unmistakable squelch of moisture and then I felt her finger inside.
It intruded slowly, knowingly, and I felt myself tensing until she carefully withdrew it. She moved into my field of view and held it up so that it glistened in the dappled sunlight coming in at the window.
I was, by degrees, both appalled and fascinated. She looked straight into my eyes before she took it deep into her mouth and softly sucked.
"MMmmmm..."
She reacted as if it were heavenly nectar and I felt a lurch in the pit of my stomach. To my astonishment I found that I was hovering on the brink of an orgasm and her sly smile told me that she knew too.
Still holding my gaze she put her hand back between my legs and probed for a second time. Now I welcomed it and I tried to squeeze but my muscles were not mine to command. She lingered a little longer this time but I was frustrated as she pulled free once more.
She showed me her finger which looked more richly coated than before and then, pervertedly, I watched wanting her to taste it again. She paused for a long moment and then my eyes opened in shocked surprise as she brought it to my lips.
"You taste wonderful..."
I could do nothing as she played her finger over my mouth and then gently pushed it inside. My tongue instinctively curled around it and my saliva diluted the pervasive richness forcing me to swallow.
I had never deliberately set out to taste myself before and the newness of the sensation killed any lingering doubts that I may have trodden this path in the past. I wanted to be revolted but my natural curiosity got the better of me.
It had a primal quality but it was quintessentially feminine and I found myself wondering if it was unique to me. To my dismay I pictured myself, just for an instant, on my knees before her.
She indulged me for another second or two before putting her finger back into her own mouth and noisily clearing the residue.
"We won't be able to play these games for very much longer..."
I was still trying to make sense of this remark when her hand found me again.
She kept her palm flat on my pubis and, with a single crooked finger, she pressed unerringly against my clitoris.
The initial sensation flushed through my system and I felt my temperature rise markedly. She allowed me to settle and then she began rock her hand using her wrist as a fulcrum. It was a soothing, rhythmic motion, at first almost imperceptible but, as the minutes passed, it became more positive.
It was incredibly arousing but equally frustrating. Had it been my own fingers I would, by now, have quickened as I felt my climax starting to build but she was not going to be hurried. I found that I could get almost all the way there only to lose it at the finish.
The secret was to attune to her rhythm and not to try and impose my own. I made one last effort, keeping to the pace she set and refusing to give in. The tension was almost unbearable but she lifted me ever higher and then, in a crashing crescendo, I was released.
Perhaps it was something to do with my apparent helplessness but it had an intensity that I was sure I had never experienced before. It continued to roll over me as her merciless finger kept up an unremitting tempo. I wanted to let go but she kept me aloft teasing out the final vestiges of pleasure.
