Preamble:
Hi, and thank you for choosing my story.
If you enjoy this story, please be kind enough to give a score at the end. This helps me to gauge the popularity of my work. - If I may - I usually like to suggest, one star each for:
Composition & Use of Vocabulary, Readability, Plot, Drama or Humour, and of course Sexual Content (or why are we all here?), but please feel free to use your own criteria if you prefer.
Finally, if you would like to know a little about my personal background, please read my Brief History.
NOTE:
Please consider the preamble for Part 1 as an integral part of this episode. Also, as with most of my work, there is a lot of background and character building in the early stages. For this reason, some aspects of this part will be better understood by reading episodes in sequence.
CAUTION:
This episode contains descriptions of scenarios involving Lesbian Incest and sex under hypnosis. Also, please note that whilst there are no descriptions of sexual activity involving characters under the age of 18 years, there may be implications of this. If you feel you may be offended by any of this, I recommend you should skip this section.
Word Count:
25,220
Main Text:
I knew it wasn't going to be any ordinary Thursday - not after Angie's mam had asked her to give Wendy such a provocative gift for her eighteenth birthday.
It was less than a minute after the other girls had left the gym, when Miss Stacey invited Angie and I into her office. I don't know why I would be surprised that Jenny was already there, but I was. There was another woman there too, who I felt sure I should have known, but for some weird reason I could hardly remember anything about who she was or what she looked like. To be honest though, I now often associated my occasional mental block problems with periods when Jenny was around, so at the time I wasn't unduly concerned.
As we entered the room, Jenny and Stacey were talking about something to do with our Headmistress, Mrs Dale. "Don't worry," Jenny told her. "It's all been taken care of. Dale won't bother us."
Stacey and the other woman were studying us both closely, and I had the distinct feeling they were mentally undressing us as they watched us. I felt a little uneasy, but Angie didn't seem to mind, in fact she was smiling back at them. I began to wonder why Stacey had even bothered to let us get dressed following our shower after Gym, but perhaps that was simply to put on a facade of normality, or maybe just to enhance their pleasure at being able to undress us again.
In any event, not much was said between the five of us until, presently, there was a light knock at the office door.
It was Wendy. She was, of course, dressed in the full school uniform of white short sleeved blouse, with the standard seniors' red tie, tied casually around her collar, a red and navy tartan checked skirt (standard attire for the seniors' 'B' class), bare legs with white ankle socks, and black patent buckle-up shoes.
She looked a picture of innocence.
Miss Stacey opened the door to her and the moment she came into view, Wendy backed away, her face telling a tale of worry.
"Don't be shy," Jenny coaxed. "Come on in. We won't bite," she laughed. All at once it became clear to me that this must be a common expression in their family, although I hadn't noticed it before.
I don't remember much of the rest of our meeting with them all, except that Jenny asked Angie to "Do her hair for us, would you Angela?" referring to Wendy.
"How would you like it?" Angie asked.
"Put it into braids please. Like Macey's."
Angie spent a few minutes plaiting Wendy's hair, then Jenny pulled Angie's pony tail out, saying, "Can't have you looking like an adult, can we," as she tied Angie's hair into bunches.
"There. That's better," she told her. I'd never seen Angie with her hair tied that way. She certainly looked a lot younger like that.
Jenny stood us in a row and took a couple of photos of us in a line together. One from the front and one from behind, then she led Wendy away. There was a knowing, almost jealous, look of yearning on Angie's face as Jenny steered Wendy from the office. The girl turned back briefly to look at us. She looked worried, obviously unsure of what to expect, possibly searching for some support, so Angie gave her a comforting smile and nodded slightly, turning to me and grinning as Wendy turned back toward the door. The pair then disappeared from our view.
They were quickly followed by the unknown woman who took me by the hand and pulled me along, quite hurriedly I thought, behind her. "Come pretty pigtail," she said in her heavy, East-European accent. "We have good fun now."
I looked back toward Angie, who had a satisfied, almost smug smile on her face as the woman almost dragged me along and into the showers, the office door closing with a light 'slam' behind us.
It felt really weird, the fact that I couldn't remember anything about her. Well, not much anyway. She was tall, with dark hair and she had a pony tail. I couldn't remember much about her, except her hair was very much like Jenny's, but almost black. That was about it. Other than that, I couldn't say what she looked like, or what happened in there.
It disturbed me that I had lost another big chunk of my memory. What I 'can' tell you is that over an hour later I was outside the school again with Angie, and we were walking back to my house for tea. I asked her what had happened and she was very cagey about it. All she would tell me was that it didn't matter, and I 'shouldn't wowy' about it. Hardly reassuring for a lost experience.
From what I could deduce, Angie spent that hour with Harriet Stacey, and as I had said, Jenny took Wendy off, which meant that I must have spent my entire hour with the other woman. I could have been with several of them, but from what I learned later, I'm fairly sure we were alone.
Polina with Macey:
At the time I could remember nothing of my experience, but over the next few weeks I began to recall tiny snippets of things that I thought had happened. I wasn't really sure. It seemed like I may have been dreaming, but if that were true, those were the most wonderfully sensual, erotic dreams that anyone might wish for.
On one occasion I was standing naked in front of a woman - it had to be the same woman. How I became undressed I can't recall, but I was standing up on a stool or a bench and she began touching me, stroking my body, and I could hear her delighted voice, moaning and sighing. It sounded rather high pitched, quite youthful in fact. Such a squeaky little voice. I remember thinking how unusual a sound from a grown woman.
She had one arm around me, her other hand stroking up the inside of my thigh as she bent down low. She began kissing my neck, down to my shoulder, then over my body, all around my tiny breasts, and sucking on the nipples as her fingers probed between my thighs, and she kept speaking in some foreign sounding language. I couldn't understand a word, but her touch felt heavenly.
Her accent was quite distinct, and I remember hearing her say things, like ' fetita draguta' or 'fetita dulca'. She kept repeating it over and over as she kissed and licked at my body.
In another dream-like sequence, I was hanging upside-down, her arms around my waist and her hand between my buttocks, and I could feel her mouth over my pussy, with something very long and warm reaching into me and moving around inside me. The more it moved, the more I enjoyed it. Then I felt a finger begin to stroke and probe between my buttocks. Suddenly I was being penetrated, two places at once, and I could hear my own voice crying out, echoing in the distance, as my body lurched and twisted in response.
Every now and then the probing would stop and I would hear that voice again, saying things like 'fetita dulca' and 'fetita suculenta'
(use Google Translate here)
. Then I would feel her arms tighten around my waist and the thing was reaching into me again. Occasionally I could feel what must have been her hand behind my head, pushing my face up between a pair of hot thighs. She was wet and tasty, and I couldn't help myself but to lap at the juicy warm flesh.
It went on for an age. Was it all a dream? Even now I really couldn't be sure, but it made me feel so good. I remember thinking I want more of this. I feel sure I must have orgasmed more than once, and I felt drained, but the next thing I remember was walking home with Angie by my side, and she wouldn't tell me anything. She just kept saying, "Don't wowy," and looking smug.
Harriet Stacey with Angie:
I learned later, not from Angie but from Miss Stacey herself, what had happened between them.
As soon as everyone else had left her office, she challenged Angie, fully expecting my girlfriend to shy away, but Jenny had obviously primed her well, or Harriet Stacey had completely underestimated Angie's resolve - maybe a little of both?
"So," Stacy began, standing with her back to the desk, her arms folded and her head raised in an air of authority. "Do you know what you're here for?" she had asked.
"Do you?" Angie replied, precociously. That immediately took Harriet off guard.
"Well, err... Your mother said that..."
"My mother says a lot of things," Angie interrupted, "but I wonder if what she told you was the same as she said to me?"
"Well, I..." Harriet began, but Angie cut her short again.
"I think, first of all," Angie told her, "we both need to understand a few things."
