Owen Willow And Mara Pt 06

Willow couldn't believe it. "What? Please! Please, may I?"

"You were told not to ask again. If you can't control yourself, you can leave."

Willow hadn't heard this tone in Mara's voice before now, and she hated that it turned her on more to be made to feel like a scolded child.

She opened her mouth to protest again but before any words could come out, Mara was on her, jerking her arm down, spinning her to the side. It all happened so fast, as Willow felt Mara's hand across her ass, hard, landing with a loud thwack. She was shocked and before she could react, another slap- harder than the first- then another. Then the sting set in. It was all slow motion, and when Willow came to, a tear was rolling down her face as Mara sat back at her desk catching her breath.

Willow turned, utterly defeated, entered Owen's room, shut the door behind her and sat on his bed. She didn't understand what was happening, tears of confusion and frustration rolled down her face and instinctively, she reached for her own pussy once again. It ached and twitched and her hand went to it and haltingly she rubbed herself. Thousands of thoughts raced through her mind as she'd work herself up, her hips moving forward, her back arching, but no release. She didn't have permission.

Forty minutes passed and Willow lifted her head from the wall, she had fallen asleep in the exhausting sexual torture she was self-administrating. She exited Owen's room, stepping to the living room, dressed now in the jeans and top she wore when she arrived. Under her jeans, Angela's used panties. It was just past 4:30 now and Mara looked up from her computer at her, sighed and moved her reading glasses down her nose.

"Are you, more in control of yourself now?" the older woman asked to which Willow embarrassingly nodded in the affirmative. "Do you..." Mara paused looking for the words, "...need my help, cleaning your face or hair?"

Willow looked at the ground and shook her head no.

"Oh, so, you took it all, then?"

Willow didn't answer.

"Did he touch you this time?"

Willow once again was silent.

"Has he touched you ever?"

She shook her head no.

"And, he hasn't fucked you? Has ANYONE fucked you?"

Willow again shook her head no.

"Oh. Well, it makes a little more sense why you're over here acting as you are." Mara said, mostly to herself. "What time does your mother get home again?" She asked.

"Eight." Willow replied quietly.

"Well, I can't have you here till eight. Walk Rascal, I want you to clean the bathroom, and then I think you have to go home. I'm sorry, if you have to just park in your driveway until they come back, but you've had your Owen time and I need to prepare for my Monday."

Willow's eyes once again looked down.

"When can I come back?" She quietly asked, humiliated but transfixed.

Mara didn't answer and only looked back to her laptop. Willow picked up Rascal's leash, walked her and when she got back, went directly into the bathroom. Mara had laid out cleaning products and Willow went to work. The sink, the tub, the toilet, Willow scrubbed everything, thinking about the time she spent in this room with Mara and Angela. When she finished, everything was spotless. She headed for the exit, pausing for a moment to ask, "Who's Cora?"

Mara looked up. She removed her glasses and looked at the young girl. Willow added, "Owen said her name."

Mara shook her head. After a deep breath, she looked back at Willow. "You don't have to worry about Cora."

"Who is she?"

"Someone you don't have to worry about. What you should worry about is, is Owen going to be able to depend on you? Can we all depend on you? Are you going to love him? Are you in love with him?"

"Yes."

"Then that should be foremost in your mind. You can either be back here and be a part of his life, or not, but if you are here, he needs to depend on you. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Your ass, how is it?"

"It hurts."

"Well, you'll understand eventually, it was necessary." Mara made her way back to her computer leaving Willow to find the door.

Willow paused, "I can be someone you can depend on, Miss."

Not looking up, Mara replied. "We'll see."

In the stairwell Willow's legs felt numb and blood rushed to her face. She made her way down the stairs. She cried in the car. She didn't want to leave. As she drove her phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, but maybe it was Mara, or Owen on another phone, she answered.

"Bitch you have something of mine?"

It was Angela. Willow was silent and frozen with fear. "Bitch, you there?"

Willow cleared her throat. "Yes," she whispered.

"You have my panties, bitch?"

"Yes."

"Where are they right now?

Willow tried to clear her dry throat. "I'm wearing them."

"You're wearing them right now?"

"Yes."

"I want them back. Now. I'm texting you my address. Bring them."

A wave of blush washed over Willow and electricity ran through her body.

"Bitch, you hear me?"

"Yes."

Willow's hands shook, and she pulled her car over to enter the address in her phone. She was closer than she thought and made her way over immediately.

Angela's was a two-family house in a decent working-class neighborhood. Willow parked on the street in front of it and walked up to the door. When she knocked, two little heads popped into the window. Then she heard feet scattering. Willow waited on the stoop when the door was opened by a child.

"Hello." Willow said trying to put on a friendly smile, "...is your mother home?"

A small innocent face looked back up to her, let the screen door shut and then ran toward the back of the apartment. "Mom!" she heard as the child raced away from her.

A moment later a youngish, dark-haired, but exhausted looking Latina girl approached. Looking into the apartment from the screen door, Willow could see her figure move towards her from the back room.

"Can I help you?" Willow heard the woman ask.

Willow stammered. "Does Angela live here?"

"She's not home. Who are you?"

"I..my name is, I'm Willow. She asked me to drop something off for her, I can come back. I can wait in the car, I'm sorry, but she called me in the car, she said to bring it over now."

"Well, she went to Costco. She's probably not back for at least an hour. You can leave it with me if you want. What is it?"

Words failed Willow as she stood on the stoop.

"What is it?" the woman pressed.

Willow whispered. "Her..."

"I can't hear you."

Willow swallowed hard.

"Are you okay?"

Willow cleared her throat again, and whispered. "I have her panties."

"What?" Now the screen door opened. The woman peered in at Willow. "What did you say?"

Willow quickly looked around her, more embarrassed at this time than any other in her life. She mumbled once more as the woman leaned in to hear. "I have her...panties. She...she told me to bring them over."

"You have my aunt's panties?"

Willow nodded, bloood rushing to her face, embarrassed beyond words.

"Like, in your purse?"

Willow closed her eyes and shook her head.

"No?"

The two stood in a stand-off at the front door for what seemed like minutes. The woman's stare burning a hole in Willow's head. Then, to break the silence, Willow whispered again.

"I'm...wearing them."

The woman opened the door and motioned for Willow to come in. As Willow stepped into the apartment the woman said. "Stay here."

Willow watched as she moved to the back of the apartment. She saw her stick her head into the room where the kids were. In a voice muted by the distance she heard the woman tell the children to "put Enchanted on" and that "Mommy has to take care of a couple of things." Before a warning to not "have me come in here again". She shut the door over and made her way back to where Willow stood.

Willow hadn't moved at all and the woman returned, this time not distracted by any noise coming from the children. She ushered Willow a few feet from the door, closing it behind her. Willow stood in a modest living room, toys strewn on the floor, in general disarray.

The woman looked her over, this time head to toe. "Now, what are you doing here bitch?" she glared at Willow.

Willow stammered again, she exhaled, her heart beating a mile a minute. She opened her mouth to speak, but not fast enough as the woman's hand flew, slapping her across the face hard, chasing the color from Willow's cheeks.

Willow gasped. Her voice slapped from her mouth.

"I'm waiting bitch." Her hand flew again, again landing on the side of Willow's face.

Tears once more rolled down Willow's cheeks.

"Angela...she called me. A few minutes ago even. She told me to...she told me to bring back...she told me to bring them back now."

Slap! Again the woman connected, Willow's eyes red and tearing, snot filling her nose.

"I swear, I'm sorry. I can leave them here. Where is your bathroom..."

"No." the woman said forcefully, "You have them? Then here. Now."

Willow paused again, this couldn't be happening. She shook as she saw the woman raise her hand again, "No, please, yes, whatever you want..."

Willow hastily unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down to the tops of her boots, revealing her white, pasty thighs, and the orange and blue panties that belonged to Angela. The woman lowered her hand.

"Those are Angela's."

"Yes, ma'am." Willow whispered.

"'Ma'am'? Bitch, you need to check yourself..."

In a moment the woman was on her, Willow felt her hand on her thighs, then, over the panties, over Angela's panties.

"Bitch, you keeping them wet for her?" the woman scoffed as her hand now moved inside them. "Very wet, bitch, aren't you?"

Willow couldn't deny how wet she was, she was trembling, and frightened, yet absolutely soaked as this woman she never met before molested her under her aunt's panties. Willow felt her breathing change and whimper escape her lips.

"Take them off." she was commanded.

Willow nervously and sloppily pushed them down, using one foot to remove her boots from her feet, then further pushing her jeans down to where she could step out of them. When she was done, her jeans and boots were in a pile next to her and she pushed Angela's panties down over her thighs, past her knees, and to her ankles. She nervously pulled at them, first one foot then the other. Her face red, cheeks flushed.

"Hand them to me, bitch."

Willow bent, and retrieved them, stood up straight, and extended them to the woman.

The woman grabbed Willow's hand, covering the panties in hers, and pushed them towards Willow's face. "Did you make a mess of these, bitch?"

"Yes." Willow stammered once more as the woman pushed the panties, soaked with Willow's juices to Willow's nose.

"Yes, I think you did," she confirmed, condescendingly.

Willow shook in the woman's living room, she was bottomless, her wet pussy out in the open, her juices a mess over her inner thighs, panties under nose, and only her top covered by her tee shirt and jacket. Again, tears rolled down her face. She was in a sick combination of trauma and arousal, and she nervously used her feet to draw her jeans and boots to her.

"Oh no, bitch. Those jeans are mine now. You borrowed my aunt's panties, and wrecked them..." she snickered, "...I'm borrowing your jeans."

Willow's heart sank. Adrenaline was now coursing through her veins. Willow struggled to keep her legs closed, to keep her hands away from her sex.

"But, what will I wear home?"

"You should have thought about that before, shouldn't you, bitch?" was the answer she heard. It was unfair, and made no sense, but Willow nonetheless agreed with it.

"Go in the closet and bring me the blue bag." The woman commanded.

Willow did as she was told.

"Bring it to me."

Willow brought the bag to her.

"Open it. And look inside."

Willow looked into the bag and felt tears well up in her yet again. She looked back at the woman, whose eye contact said all Willow needed to know.

"I...haven't had that before." Willow sputtered. "From anyone."

"Take it out."

Willow reached into the bag and pulled out the harness and strappie that was inside it. She held it out to the woman.

Just then Willow was turned, the woman's. hand on the back of her neck, guided her into position, bending her at the waist. Looking behind her as best she could, she saw the woman step out of the flops she was wearing, push down the pajama bottoms she was in and step into the harness. The woman held Willow in place as the harness was pulled up her legs. Then, Willow was pressed down again, a hand on the back of her neck, fingers in her hair pulling her head back, she felt the stappie brush against her legs, looking for its target.

"Please Miss, no one has done this..."

"Then, you'll always remember me, won't you?"

The woman pushed her hips forward, slowly filling Willow with her girl-dick. Willow grunted, her body feeling a mix of pain, and fullness never felt before. In a moment, she felt the pressure, the sharp pain, then something running down her leg. Willow groaned.

"I guess you haven't had someone take you here before..." she heard the woman laugh, knowing her Hyman was pierced and it was blood rolling down her thigh, "...is this how you imagined losing your cherry?"

Willow grunted as she was being fucked. The woman quickly found a rhythm and Willow's body responded. It was clear she knew what she was doing. "Skinny, ugly-ducking, white bitch." the woman muttered in Willow's ear as she fucked her. Willow couldn't get enough now of her strappie, and found herself thrusting her hips backward to take as much of it as she could. Her mascara running down her face, her back arched, Willow's entire pussy seemingly being used by the woman.

"If you're thinking of calling Mara, you don't have to, you can just ask me."

Willow whimpered, mortified, she knew about Mara? Pain and pleasure washed over her body.

"Miss, may I?" Willow groaned, feeling her body prepare for release.

"No, bitch." she coldly said as she continued to fuck her.

Willow grunted as she fought to hold back her impending orgasm.

"Please!" she grunted again, her pussy simultaneously being stretched and filled by the woman's cock.

"Ask nicely." was what she heard.

"Please Miss..." Willow replied, "Please..."

"Please Miss, what?" the woman toyed with her.

Willow paused. She didn't know her name. The woman sensed it and without breaking a rhythm as she fucked her told the skinny white girl, "I think you know my name."

Willow used every ounce of strength she had not to cum. Her head covered in sweat, the woman's girl cock buried deep in her cunt, her hand holding a fistful of hair, "Please Miss Cora. Please."

The woman smiled. "Cum on my girl-cock, bitch." Cora said.

Willow did. Over and over again.