Curious Girls

"Wake up, sleepy head!" Tamara demanded, slapping my naked left buttock. I squealed, trying instinctively to pull away as I came to abrupt awareness. My protests were muffled by the soggy fabric still in my mouth.

"I suppose we can remove that now," Tamara grinned as she reached for my gag.

I looked around, recalling everything that had happened the night before. Was it the night before? I had no idea what time or day it was. I was in shock, unable to believe this was all really happening.

As Tamara pulled her panties from of my mouth, I coughed.

"What the hell?!" I exclaimed angrily. Plastic zip ties dug into my wrists and ankles as I struggled.

"I know, I know, I could have handled that better," Tamara smiled. "But I panicked when I thought I had lost you."

I tried to calm myself. Despite how furious I was, yelling would help my cause.

"Tamara, I'm sorry I scared you. I was scared too. But you know how I feel about you."

"I saw the look in your eyes. The way you reacted. Your memories came back, didn't they?" Tamara asked rhetorically.

"So what if they did? My feelings for you are real."

"I almost let myself believe they were," Tamara stared off to the side. "I was fascinated with the idea of you falling for me. The thought of you willingly licking my pussy and enjoying it. It sent tingles down my spine. There were more than a few nights I practically rubbed myself raw thinking about it."

Tamara climbed on top of me, straddling my side. Her eyes bore into mine as she twirled a strand of my hair playfully around her finger.

"No matter how turned on I got, no matter what I thought about or what I did, I could never make myself fucking cum. You think I like how dependent I am on you? I wish to God I understood why I need your face to orgasm. But let's be honest, I probably never will-and I can live with that. The only thing I know for certain is that your face is magical. Well, I guess I don't need to tell you," she laughed, "You saw how pent-up I was last night. That orgasm was fucking heaven."

"Nothing has to change," I protested.

"The thing that really sucks is you were making such good progress," she continued as if I hadn't spoken. "You had fallen in love with my ass, and it was only a matter of time before you grew to enjoy my pussy the same way."

I wanted to tell her how wrong she was, but I couldn't help worry there was a shred of truth to her words. Instead, I skirted around the the topic entirely.

"Since when do you want me to enjoy myself?" I asked sardonically.

Tamara hesitated. "I don't know that I actually care if you enjoy yourself. It's more about the fact that you should be enjoying yourself. Besides, every girl wants to feel desired."

Tamara may have been telling the truth, but it wasn't the whole truth. I knew her well enough to know what turned her on more was the control. The power.

"I know when things began between us, it was about payback. I admit I got a lot of pleasure from hurting you."

"Look, Tamara. I know I caused you a lot of pain, and I feel terri-"

"Would you just shut the fuck up and just listen for once?" Tamara snapped.

I was about to offer up a witty retort but thought better of it.

"Now, as I was saying. I got a lot of pleasure from causing you pain. And I'll be honest with you-It confused me. It was hard for me understand how I could want to hurt you and fuck you at the same time. You moving in with me gave me the perfect chance to get to know myself a little better."

She reached up and pulled the holders from her own ponytail, letting her hair fall around her face.

"I even went to see a shrink a few times," she said absent-mindedly as she played with my hair.

"You went to a counselor because of me?"

Tamara laughed. "I went because my parents were getting a divorce, but I had no desire to talk about that shitshow, so we ended up talking about my-interests."

"You told her about about-me?" I asked, incredulous.

"I just gave her the highlights," Tamara laughed. "Her theory is that I had a long-time crush on you that I was suppressing all these years-that I let you push me around because I was secretly in love with you. And that all my anger and aggression was me denying my true feelings."

She parted my hair, pulling half into a ponytail holder, twisting it a two or three times until it held my hair firmly in a pigtail.

"According to her, once I work through my anger, I'll be able to better understand my own feelings and be able to have a healthy relationship with you."

"You want a relationship with me?" I said softly, completely taken by surprise.

"Don't be daft," she chortled, "the woman was clearly batshit. I tried to take her advice when you moved in with me-to have a normal relationship. But the thing is-I'm not a lesbian, and I'm never going to be. She just thought I was because I got turned on knowing you wanted me to go down on you."

"You wanted to go down on me?" I asked, still trying to make sense of Tamara's ramblings.

"No. That's just it. The thought of getting anywhere near your nasty snatch makes me want to vomit. What I liked was that you wanted me to. I liked the feeling of power. Last night was what finally convinced me I was trying to make our relationship into something it wasn't."

She ran her fingers over my cheek.

"Besides, I also realized that I'm not angry at you anymore."

"It's great that you learned what you're looking for in a relationship. That means it will be that much easier to find someone else who can fill those needs."

Tamara burst out laughing. "You might be right, but why would I need or want anyone else?"

"You can't keep me here forever," I protested defiantly.

"Of course I can," she grinned, "No one knows you're here, plus this room is soundproof. You literally belong to me now. My cute little fuck toy."

"This is kidnapping," I protested. "You could go to jail for this."

"No. The only way I could go to jail for this is if I let you go."

"I won't tell anyone," I pleaded. "Please, just let me go. I'll even help you find someone else you can have a relationship with. Someone who will let you be dominant and explore your fetishes to your heart's content."

"You're everything I need," Tamara grinned. "Plus, everytime I get horny thinking about hurting someone, it's always you I'm fantasizing about. I don't know why, but the only one I want to hurt-is you."

"Whoa, what?" I panicked all over again. "I thought you said you weren't mad at me anymore."

"I'm not," she giggled, biting her lip. "Being mad at you would be like being mad at my vibrator. That's all you are to me now-a fancy vibrator."

I was speechless. It was difficult to believe any of this was really happening, yet I saw no way out of my predicament. Surely she couldn't really intend on keeping me here.

"No, that's not entirely true. I might get mad at my vibrator if it stops working."

It was a joke, but also a warning.

"It turns out I really just like hurting you," she continued. I just didn't realize until you were struggling under my pussy last night just how hot that made me-how much I needed that aspect to be satisfied."

I tried a new approach. "Look, Tamara. I miss that too. But we can have that in a normal relationship-like before, but even better. You don't need to keep me tied up like this."

"Here's the thing," Tamara said, looking directly into my eyes, "Nothing you say matters. When you ran, I realized how empty my life would be without you."

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised desperately.

"I know you're not," Tamara said confidently. "As much as I would like to believe you, I just-I can't take that risk. Don't get me wrong. I would love for you to to stay with me willingly. But to be honest, as much as I love the orgasms you give me, you wouldn't be leaving my bed very often anyway. This way, you'll always be here when I need you."

She finished pulling the rest of my hair into a matching pigtail on the other side of my head. I wanted to ask what she was doing, but I had more pressing concerns.

"I'm on pins and needles just thinking about the orgasm you're going to give me in-oh, about 20 minutes," she purred. "What do you think about your new fuck handles-I mean, pigtails?"

"Tamara, let's talk about this for a minute," I begged. "I'm sure we can work something out. I-I love you. And I loved what happened last night." I was getting desperate.

"Do you? Do you love my pussy?"

"W-what? That's a weird question-" I stammered.

"I know you love my ass-I've seen how wet you get. But if you want to convince me that you and I could be together, you have to convince me you love my pussy too."

"I-I do, I love your pussy," I started, knowing I wouldn't be able to convince her if I couldn't convince myself.

"Keep going," she played idly with my hair, twisting it around her fingers and biting her lip as she watched me intently.

"I love the way it looks-and tastes," I felt so awkward, fumbling over my words.

"You love the way it tastes? Care to put your money where your mouth is?"

Her fingers slipped between her legs, rubbing at the soft fabric.

"Absolutely," I swallowed nervously. I would do anything to get free, but it didn't mean I had to enjoy it.

Her pale thighs were already visible as she tugged the sweatpants down her legs, kicking them to the floor.

"Oh, you're not... you mean right now?"

She had apparently not bothered to put her panties back on.

She crawled toward me, naked from the waist down and still wearing a low-cut, light blue tank top. Her pale breasts jiggled, trying to escape her shirt as she crawled toward me. Her nipples pushed through the fabric, making her lack of bra quite apparent.

"I won't be able to show you properly laying on my side like this," I suggested hopefully, "Maybe if you untied me?"

I was trapped on my side, barely able to struggle. While I had been unconscious, Tamara had not only fixed the zip ties around my wrists, but she somehow tied my wrists and ankles together, locking them behind my back. It was a terribly uncomfortable position, and it made struggle nearly impossible. I couldn't even lie on my back. All I could do was lay there, helpless.

"Don't worry, I'll come to you," Tamara grinned as she lay on her side.

As she slid her right thigh under my head, she let the weight of her other leg rest on my cheek, it wasn't hard to guess what she had in mind.

I focused on my breathing, trying not to panic as I mentally prepared myself. Squirming awkwardly as she gripped a pigtail in each hand, she pulled herself toward me. As my head disappeared between her thighs, I found myself unable to look away. I still wasn't used to seeing her without pubic hair. In my nightmares, her pussy always loomed over me, ready to swallow my entire face. But somehow, what I saw now didn't seem so scary.

With her hair shaved, her pussy looked deceptively harmless. Gone was the curly red hair which had covered her vaginal region. Before, it had felt like her entire nether region was ready to swallow my face. She had gone from one extreme to the other. Now, her vaginal lips were completely smooth, her slit unobtrusive, almost hidden. But I knew better than to believe there was anything innocent about her.

"Go ahead," she said sweetly, "Show me how much you love my pussy."

I braced myself as I pushed my tongue into her silky smooth slit. As I explored her with my tongue, I gradually pushed deeper as I worked myself up to her taste. To my surprise, neither the smell nor taste were as bad as I remembered. Encouraged, I began to lick faster, hoping to get this over quickly.

"Slow down," she half moaned, half snapped in annoyance.

Reluctantly, I complied and tried to convey enjoyment as I drew my tongue over her clitoris at a painstakingly slow pace. As my face and tongue sank deeper, I felt my tongue slide over her inner vaginal lips, I moaned as I tried to make my "enjoyment" seem authentic.

I closed my lips around her inner vaginal lips, sucking them them between my own lips one at a time. I felt her wetness gradually spreading to other parts of my face, but there was little I could do about it.

It was at that point I realized she had not been fully aroused at the start. I tried unsuccessfully to recall a time Tamara had not been aroused. She had always gone from wet to wetter, but I had never before seen her in such a pre-arousal state that it hadn't even occurred to me she might not be fully turned on. Now, an all-too-familiar taste was returning. I had to fight with everything I had to resist the urge to gag.

"That feels incredible. Do you want me to squirt in your mouth again? Thinking about that is getting me so wet right now."

Oh, God. Please don't squirt in my mouth again.

"Oh, yes," I fake moaned. "I'm so wet thinking about it too."

Abruptly, Tamara leaned backward and slid her fingers between my legs, shoving them roughly into my vagina.

"Ow!" I exclaimed in pain. "What the hell, Tamara?"

"You're such a fucking liar. You're as dry as a goddamn fucking desert."

"I-it just takes me longer," I protested desperately.

"No, you said you were wet. You're not turned on at all. If what you said before is true, you should be as turned on as I am right now."

"Please, I'm just nervous."

"I knew you were lying. I fucking knew it! I hoped you weren't. I really wanted to believe you. Oh, well. I can still enjoy myself regardless." Her grip on my hair tightened.

"Keep licking," she demanded.

"Look," I said, not willing to continue just because she demanded it. "Let me go, and I'll lick you as much as you like."

"You're in no place to be making demands." She pulled on my hair, and I felt her legs tense against either side of my neck. "This is what they call a scissor hold."

"Ow, Tamara, that hurts."

"Good, that means I'm doing it right."

She pushed her wet lips against my mouth. I tried to pull away, but her grip was surprisingly effective. With each thrust, her increasingly wet sex slid up and down over my lips.

"Knowing that I can completely overpower you makes me crazy, fuckin' horny," Tamara moaned.

"Tamara, please," I begged, but my pleas were lost in her wet flesh.

I couldn't so much as turn my head away. Her grip was absolute. Her vulva slid rhythmically against my mouth. Her smooth lips were already unbelievably slick with arousal. Somehow, her completely bare skin against my face seemed worse than when she'd kept sticking her hairy mound in my face. Her hairy slit had been, in a word, nasty. I wasn't remotely fond of having it shoved in my face. But now, she was just so unbelievably wet. Her slit slid against my face almost effortlessly. With each thrust, she jerked my head forward uncomfortably.

"Ooh, fuck! This is so relaxing," Tamara moaned, letting go of my hair as she continued to perform her bizarre dance around the bed, my neck straining to keep up with her erratic gyrations. Even without her hands gripping my hair, my head was still firmly trapped against her crotch by her thighs. Her grinding was imprecise, but no less effective..

The harder she thrust, the further her swollen lips slid up my face until her clit was just brushing against my nose.

"Oh, God-" she moaned. "It's like your face was made for my pussy."

"It really wasn't!" I screamed, managing to pull my face a few millimeters away.

"A face as pretty as yours? It's literally begging for my cum.

Before I could protest further, her grip tightened again, pulling my mouth into her slit as she locked her ankles together. This time, whether by accident or on purpose, her mound ended up situated ever so slightly higher on my face. Even though the bottom half of my face was firmly buried in her soft, wet folds of flesh, my nose was nestled every tightly against her clitoris.

"Oh, there's a good little toy," she moaned. "My sexy little fuck toy," she resumed thrusting. With each thrust, her lips slid over my nose, swallowing it entirely and completely stealing my oxygen. That got me panicking all over again. Her mound was slowly slipping its way further up my face until she found what seemed to be the perfect position.

"Oh, fuck. Right there. Right there. Fuck!"

Her clit bounced against my nose over and over again, but my nose wasn't quite managing to slip out of her slit anymore. I tried to struggle, but she barely noticed as she thrust faster.

I strained, trying to push my body forward to reduce the strain on my neck. I could see Tamara's face quite clearly. It showed pure bliss as she neared orgasm.

"Open your mouth," she moaned. "I want to squirt down your throat again."

I cried out in protest as her eager mound pushed my lips painfully into my teeth.

"Gag on my cum or drown in it."

It wasn't exactly a choice, and the burning sensation in my lungs made it for me. I opened my mouth, gasping for air.

"There's a good girl," she cooed, grabbing my hair with her left hand as she began fucking my nose in earnest, keeping her lips spread tightly over my mouth as her clit mashed roughly into my nose. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she moaned, her whole body tensing before her muscles went limp.

"I didn't squirt," she gasped, clearly disappointed. "Still, that was intense."

She pushed my head away as she rolled over.

Breathing deeply, she sighed. "I guess we got a little carried away, didn't we?"

"Tamara, you can't keep me here! People will come looking. Michael, Krista-don't you think they'll notice me missing?"

I could feel the cool air against my still wet mouth.

"She might. But I'm not worried. I have plenty time to come up with a good story. Of course, that's assuming Krista even notices. She hasn't asked about you in months," Tamara laughed. "If you were to disappear, the only one who would miss you would be me," she grinned and winked suggestively.

As I thought back to my conversation with Michael, I realized he might be especially prone to believe I'd left town. Was it possible no one would come looking? Terror began to sink in as I realized just how few people in my life would notice if I disappeared.

"Help! Please, somebody help!" I screamed, genuine fear creeping into my voice.

"Don't bother," Tamara laughed. "Your screeching is annoying, but no one is going to hear you."

"I'm sure you'll understand if I don't take your word for that," I spat.

"This room used to be a recording studio. It's completely soundproof.

"-Soundproof?" I asked dumbly. No matter how much I wished otherwise, I knew instinctively she was telling the truth.

Now, why don't we try this again?" Tamara said, still breathing hard. "I got ahead of myself. I haven't even properly shown you the best part about your new bed."

Reaching toward the headboard, Tamara pulled out what appeared to be a leather collar. It had a lock hanging loosely on one side, and a cord looped through the other side. The key was still in the lock, and Tamara grasped it, releasing the locking mechanism as she pulled the strap around my neck.

I heard a click as the lock fastened back into place. Tamara tossed the key toward the main door.

"What the fuck? A collar? Really, Tamara?" I asked with a mixture of fear and incredulity. Tamara just laughed.

"Now you really are my little bitch."

"This isn't funny."

She ignored me as she climbed back to the floor.

"I'll be back in a moment. Don't you go anywhere!" she chortled, far too amused at her own joke.

*****

A few moments later, she returned with a pair of scissors which she used to sever the zip ties restricting my feet and hands.

With my arms and legs freed, I thought I might have a chance to grab Tamara when she came near again. I wasn't quite sure how I would compel her to release me, but I would cross that bridge when I came to it.