Changes

Chapter One

(Monday 14th October 2002)

Viola stared at the dildos in something approaching wonder. Only a week ago she would never have believed she would own a dildo. But now she had three.

Three!

Such gluttony was Heather's fault, of course. Not that Viola was blaming her newest lover in any way. As far as she was concerned the black-haired beauty was her saviour. She would be deeply indebted to her for the rest of her life.

Last thing Viola was apt to do was blame her.

If only she could be mine and mine alone, she thought. And then, grinning, she stuck out her tongue at her own reflection in the mirror.

No way would Hev ever be anyone's exclusively. Not during her three years at university. The girl had often declared she was there to be free and to learn as much about female sex as she possibly could.

As if she had anything left to learn!

Only a few days ago Viola had been a virgin where girls were concerned. Secretly, very, very secretly, she had been curious. But she had also been too timid to experiment in that particular direction.

So she had sincerely believed.

Heather wasn't afraid of anything, especially not females. There again, she had been packed off to an all-girls school at an early age and had started her experimenting long before she came to uni.

It was impossible not to chuckle. Viola had known about Heather's reputation all along. She'd always been aware that, no matter how it developed, their relationship was never going to be based on true love and total fidelity. Heather's relationships never were.

And chuckling was better than sighing, wasn't it?

Now, three different, brightly coloured sex toys arrayed before her, Viola had no regrets whatsoever. Only a madwoman would have regrets after being fucked by Heather. The experience had been just awesome. Locked away in Viola's toy-free bedroom they'd done things she had only ever previously seen in on-line videos. The sensations had been out of this world.

Put it this way. Up until then Viola only had a handful of lovers, all male, most of them unable to make her cum. In fact most of them hadn't a clue how to get her anywhere near. Then Heather had brought her off umpteen zillion times without even seeming to try.

Okay, so umpteen zillion was something of an exaggeration. That estimate should be reduced to, say, six or seven zillion.

Yes, she really had been as good as that.

After the most enjoyable Saturday night, Sunday morning in living memory Heather had insisted on a train trip into Manchester. They'd had a traditional lunch, washed down with several large pinots, and then they had visited a sex shop. And, although Viola was supposed to keep her big gob shut in there, she'd felt the need to discuss the pros and cons of all the options on display, and in fine detail at that.

Perhaps it was the bottle and a half of vino that relaxed her, but suddenly she hadn't been shy or self-conscious at all. Suddenly she'd been downright loquacious.

Whatever the cause, choosing from a vast array of different shapes, colours and sizes had been fun. And, after they had taken the next train out of good old Madchester, back at hers, safely locked away from the world again, actually using her selections had surpassed brilliance.

Why oh why had she ever bothered with guys? Unequipped Hev was infinitely superior; equipped she became a force of nature.

Well, not so excessively. She hadn't been the legendary Hurricane Heather. Not so Viola had noticed, anyhow. As far as she could tell Hev had been slow, tender and very considerate. As far as she could tell Hev had all the patience of a saint and more skill than a master swordsman.

Think Errol Flynn, allegedly a maestro with all sorts of swords.

Not that Hev seemed to be dwelling on the old swashbuckling hero when she had been on the job.

No, right then cinematic swashbuckling heroes couldn't have been farther from her mind.

She clearly had much better things to think about.

There really, sincerely was no struggle to cum with Heather. Restricted to lips, fingers and tongue she was sheer dynamite but, armed with a substitute cock, she had thermonuclear potential.

She had been instructive too, showing Viola how best to clean the toys afterwards, stressing the need for hygiene.

Then, after another glass of wine each at Viola's breakfast bar, Hev had taken her back to bed and let her new, oh so innocent lover fuck her for two whole hours.

Or was it closer to four?

How empowering was that. Viola had relished every second of Heather fucking her but switching roles was like finding her true vocation. Everything about pounding into the girl was good: smelling, hearing, tasting and feeling her; seeing the expressions flitting across her beautiful face as she came . . .

Oh yes, as she came again and again and again.

Hev should have featured in some of the videos Viola had covertly watched. Her looks and body were better by far than any of the porn stars she'd ever seen.

And seeing her writhe in ecstasy . . .

Making her writhe in ecstasy . . .

Yes, yes, yes!

*****

Viola had proposed a date with Heather for Saturday evening, expecting it to last until maybe midnight and to involve kisses and little more. But that simple date had gravitated into Saturday night and all of Sunday, most of their waking hours spent in Viola's bed. By the time they did finally part, shortly after sunrise Monday morning, Viola was ready to skip the coming week's lectures and stay just where they were; meaning like indefinitely. Hev was, however, a more conscientious student.

And she also had a prior engagement for Monday night.

What a bummer!

Determinedly avoiding jealousy, Viola had drifted through the day's tutorials, wondering what on earth happened next. Heather had already suggested a follow-up date for Tuesday and that had been most eagerly agreed. But a date for the next day still left the question of now.

Or rather now, how, who, when and where?

Nothing if not practical, Viola accepted that her newest, best-ever lover was up for sex with a different partner less than ten hours after temporarily kissing her adieu. Ten hours, assuming Hev and her date (Katie for God's sake!) had sex as soon as they met up, and taking into account the fact that Hev was capable of absolutely anything.

Anything, that was, except true love and total fidelity.

Nodding at her reflection, Viola acknowledged she had got involved in a whole new ball game.

The local lesbian sex scene had rules all of its own.

Obviously!

So why shouldn't she be up for more sex herself?

Well, apart from not wanting to touch a man ever again and having no other female lovers to call on.

Not yet.

Could she possibly go with someone else so soon after Heather? Hev could, so why not?

Why not besides almost twenty-one years of thinking she was straight?

Why not besides being lily-livered?

Still staring at herself in the mirror, Viola accepted the fact she looked good. Ebony-skinned with good bone structure and tall with it, for all of her life she'd been compared with Naomi Campbell.

As if anyone could complain about that.

Dressed in her habitual cut-off jeans and a daringly low-cut T-shirt, she nodded again.

I could fuck me, she thought. Given what I know now, I definitely could!

Chapter Two

Viola's solution to having no other female lovers was to visit the Union Bar. And she went with the firm intent of sitting on Lesbians' Corner for only the second time. The first time had been totally accidental but today would be deliberate.

The first time she'd been unaware and, horrified, she had instinctively chickened when she had been almost immediately chatted up.

Back then she had been a complete novice and must have looked the part. She had been chatted up on the off-chance and not in any real hope. Now she'd been seen to be dating Hev. Now the chances would seem infinitely more on to anyone with an eye for the main chance.

Make that odds-on.

And now she would see what happened and go with the flow.

Leastways she would, if she dare.

Walking into the bar at the ridiculously early time of three thirty, head held high, she was met by a big round of applause. It was the girls on the Corner, welcoming her as one of the sisterhood.

'Bravo,' someone cried.

'Encore,' another endorsed.

Flushing, glad that her skin tone mostly disguised her discomfort she gave them her best attempt at a curtsey.

'Bravo,' that first voice repeated.

'Get 'em out for the gals,' a new voice added, prompting a torrent of witchy laughter.

Somehow managing to preserve a tad of decorum, Viola made it to the bar. 'A pint of you-know-what, please,' she said to the attentive barmaid, who already had a Marston's glass in her hand. She pulled the usual pint without comment.

'I'll get that.'

Surprised, Viola turned to see one of the most regular denizens of Lesbians' Corner standing there at her side. Madge was a little overweight and, on first sight, a little plain. Her hair was probably her best feature. It was very long and two tone: jet-black dyed blue for the last six or so inches. She'd also very thick black eyebrows. But she had a nice smile. And right then she was smiling like crazy.

'Okay,' said Viola, 'thanks. I'll get the next ones. Shall we . . .'

'Shall we fuck,' said Madge, overriding Viola's nod towards the Corner. 'We're going to sit well out of the way of those vultures.'

*****

Madge had the most amazing eyes. They were hazelnut brown and captivating. Just about as far from the Corner as they could possibly be, Viola let herself fall into them. Deep down she supposed that as a new, raw recruit, she would have to prove her worth. In practice it transpired that Madge was ready to help her every step of the way.

And how!

Even though Madge wouldn't have been Viola's first choice, she was witty and kind. And she got to be more and more attractive all the time. Two minutes alone with her and Viola was entranced.

Pale skinned and plump or not, Madge had something about her. Not so very far back in the day Viola wouldn't have looked twice, not even in passing idle interest but, at that moment in time, the appeal of her was only too apparent.

At that moment she was different and getting exponentially more attractive.

Omigod yes, Viola thought, omigod, omigod!

'You're dressed up to the nines,' said Madge. 'Please tell me you're not meeting the Deadly Menace.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'I mean Heather. You know; the lady who has been fucking you every which way since Saturday.'

That shocked Viola. Personally she'd been constantly reliving every last second of being with Hev and repetitively using the word "fuck" inside her head. But she was uncertain about the meaning in lesbian parlance. It was quite obvious what it meant whenever she had been fucked by a bloke, but where did it start and end for girls?

Had she and Hev "made love" up until dildos were involved and only then "fucked"?

In any case, how did Madge know? Hev had assured her she that did not tell tales out of school, so how was Madge aware of the when, where and however?

And how did she keep on getting sexier by the second?

'I don't do gossip,' Viola said limply.

'You don't have to. Heather missing the Sunday lunchtime session in here says it all. That happens for just one reason. And this Sunday you were "it".'

'But . . .'

'Don't but me, Viola my dear. You were seen together at the railway station, getting off the two-thirty from Manchester. That means you're not just one of us; that means you've spent the whole weekend with Heather Hunter. And that means that you have been thoroughly inducted to the ancient art by the ultimate warrior queen. Trust me my friend; there ain't no doubt about it.'

On cue the juke blared out Meatloaf, avowing he'd been doubly blessed, barely seventeen or not.

(He was very possibly singing the best lyrics ever written anywhere, anytime.)

'Whatever,' said Viola, confused and embarrassed. And strangely proud too, come to that.

'I'm not going to admit anything,' she went on, determined to protect whatever reputation Hev had.

'Not even your wish to go further?' Madge's eyes were browner, brighter than ever.

'Excuse me,' Viola said, frowning. 'I don't understand.'

'You're here, aren't you?'

'Well yes, obviously I'm here.'

'So you're here for a reason.'

'Am I?'

'Sure you are,' said Madge. 'Forget the Deadly Menace, you've already as good as denied her so far as tonight's concerned. That means you're here for something else. And what's more, you're here and ready to go on the Corner. I reckon you've realized what you've been missing and are ready to spread your wings.'

The increasing attractive, pale-skinned girl was dead on, but still Viola was cautious. 'With someone else, you mean?'

'Yeah, and I'm first in the queue. Forget that lot.' Madge dismissed the girls on the Corner with a flick of her wrist. 'You need a careful guiding hand and I'm volunteering.'

Viola couldn't tear her eyes away from the other girl's. More to the point, she didn't want to.

'I'll get us more beer,' said Madge, rising from her stool.

'It's my round.'

'No it's not. You wait right there. Do not move a muscle.'

Viola watched her would-be seducer approach the bar. She looked good from behind and those eyes! Another pint or three and . . .

'Here,' said Madge, passing her a fresh Marston's. 'Thanks for not running away.'

Viola fell back into that magnetic stare. 'Trust me,' her mouth said on autopilot, 'I'm not planning on running anywhere.'

Chapter Three

Heather didn't know if her date would turn up or not. They'd agreed the ridiculously early time of four in the Union Bar, supposedly because it fit in with lectures.

But Hev had skipped her three-until-four class because she never, ever broke a promise, not even if she was as good as certain she was going to be stood up.

(And she had never actually promised to attend that particular class, tee-hee.)

All other things being equal, she was on edge.

Bloody Katie!

Hev smiled at the thought. Katie had been bi-curious for the last million years and, being a friend, she had encouraged her along every inch of the way. Not that she preyed on straight girls. Heaven forbid. No, Heather gladly assisted curious girls and left the straights to wallow in their self-inflicted misery.

Katie wasn't a typical straight. Her curiosity had only ever been headed in one direction.

Unlike Viola's much more modest, infinitely more reserved curiosity.

Yet today, for the first time in simply yonks Heather wasn't looking forward to a date. Okay, correction: she was looking forward to converting another hetero, one who desperately wanted to be converted, but her heart wasn't entirely in it.

Scowling, blinking Viola out of her mind, she focused on Katie.

The two of them had been flirting since the Christmas before last. Normally secretive about her daring escapades when talking to straight girls, Heather had been extremely descriptive whenever Katie was concerned. Katie needed descriptive as part of her learning curve. And Heather wasn't about to deny her any part of that.

The delightful events of Saturday night were still a problem, though. Leastways the events leading up to the delightfulness were. With Monday already agreed as a date with Katie, Heather had right out of the blue been approached by Viola.

As if anyone could resist an approach like that. Viola was stacked and oozed sex appeal. Not a single one of the TV celebs could hold a candle to her. Neither could any mega movie star from here in good old England, Hollywood, Bollywood or anywhere else for that matter.

My, hadn't Katie gone off in a big huff when she had seen them meet up in the Union! For some crazy reason she'd seemed to think she had exclusivity. And she'd been exceptionally petulant with it.

The lack of privacy was the otherwise fantastic Union Bar's one weakness, in Heather's opinion. Go in there with any regularity and you became a face. Everybody knew everybody else's business, just like they did in villages such as Micklethwaite or Morton, back home in God's Own County.

It simply wasn't fair.

How could two girls hope to shag without the rest of the word being aware of every stroke and every last caress?

Growing a thick skin was the only solution. But Katie hadn't really got so far on her learning curve yet. Yes, she'd had plenty of boyfriends, using and discarding them with abandon. But girls seemed to be a different issue for her.

Girls seemed to make her pout and snarl. At least they did when they showed even the slightest bit of independence.

And that was before they'd crossed the big divide together!

Potentially being stood up didn't particularly worry Heather. She sincerely fancied Katie and was more than ready to shag her, however she wanted it and for worlds without end. But shagging her was not a be all and end all. Ticking Katie off her list would be pleasant but not essential.

Or was she secretly expecting a no show, subconsciously preparing in advance?

Was she dumbing down in anticipation of rejection?

Walking along the only too familiar corridor she could already hear the juke box blaring. Noddy Holder was cumming on feeling the noise and, ancient as the track was, he sounded as good as ever.

*****

Early for once in her life, Heather entered the bar, taking a moment to absorb all of those wonderful sounds and smells: the clack of pool balls; anguished cries of bad darts players as they missed the board, never mind the required double; electronic bleeps of video games even older than Slade; the aroma of freshly pulled beer; the reek of perfume and excessively applied make-up . . .

The latter being only the boys.

Very much aware she was dressed for a date, by now certain Katie would blob, Heather sashayed in ever deeper, aiming herself bar-wards without the need of a compass.

'Miss Sexy Ass herself,' someone observed from the Corner.

'In a skirt again as well,' someone else added. 'Go on girl, give us a twirl.'

'Too late Hev,' added another witchy voice, 'Madge has got her claws into your bird already.'

Accustomed as she was to the verbal onslaught, Heather only smiled. The things those gals could get away with! If a guy came out with anything remotely like the sexist abuse they routinely used he would be hung, drawn and quartered, if not burnt at the stake.

The impulse was to give the gals the finger. But on further consideration, Heather might be in need of a shoulder to cry on later. So she smiled and shimmied her way to the serving area.

It was much easier to burn bridges than rebuild them, no?

'Someone's looking good,' Gloria said as she pulled Hev a pint without waiting to be asked . . . as she almost invariably did.

'I'm looking good for you,' Heather replied as she glanced at the clock. 'And you look just as good as always.'

Gloria shook her head as she took Heather's proffered fiver. The older woman had probably spent the majority of her life behind bars (so to speak!) and she'd got an answer for every last proposition in the book, be it serious or not. Nobody but nobody ever got in the last word with that lady.

'How long has Viola been with Madge?' Heather asked as she was handed her change.

'You've noticed them, then?'

'Yeah; Madge never leaves the Corner. Of course I've noticed them.'

A cloud flitted across Gloria's brow. 'They've been huddled together this last half an hour,' she said in a low voice. 'Is Viola supposed to be meeting you?'

'Not tonight; tonight she's free to do what she likes.'

'That's just as well. Madge has her hypnotized. And I think that's what she likes, for tonight at least.'