Nancy Mitchell's Other Life

Everyone in this story is over 18, including the fantasy people described in the story.

Author's note: Thanks everyone for reading, feedback and comments always welcome. I'm wondering if NonConsent/Reluctance is the best place for this, if you have thoughts on that it'd be appreciated. I think it's definitely more on the reluctance side for sure, but if some of the more widely read readers have suggestions for another category that would be a better fit I'd be interested to hear them. Happy reading!

Nancy Mitchell was frowning and watching severed strands of her pubic hair fall into the toilet bowl. Normally quite reserved except in her online fantasies, the shy young woman kept up a running narrative as she carefully moved the beard trimmer over her vulva. "You're not just automatically going to submit to this woman, or even sleep with her, Nancy. You barely even know her. Sure, she felt you up in the bathroom and afterwards you gave yourself the best orgasm you've had in years, maybe in your life, but you gave yourself that orgasm, not her! That doesn't mean she owns you or gets to tell you what to do, or control your clothes and when you come, and it definitely doesn't mean a damn thing that you've been thinking about her non-stop for the past three days."

She turned the clippers off, and scowled down at her cunt. She checked her pubic area out with a hand mirror, made a few more passes in the hard to reach places, and put the clippers away. Her diatribe, punctuated by the flush of the toilet, continued as she glared down at her now neatly trimmed but not shaved bald like the women in her stories (because she was not a helpless victim but a strong woman in control of herself) pussy. "And you! Behave yourself! What if she doesn't even call because she's intimidated? Have you thought about that? Yeah, what if she realizes she's not good enough for us? Huh? You've spent the last three days getting wet every time I think of her, and frankly I think you could have a little more respect for yourself. Get it together, sister!"

With her treacherous pussy properly chastised for its inconsistent loyalties, Nancy proceeded to get dressed in her usual first date outfit. She started with green panties and a matching bra. Even if her breasts were small enough that they didn't need the support the matched set looked damn good on her. A black button down shirt, pair of khakis that her ass looked fantastic in, her lucky rainbow pattern socks on her feet and Vans by the door in case they went out and she was as ready as she was going to be for whatever the night brought. She had spent the past three evenings cleaning to distract herself and her apartment was cleaner than it had been since she moved in. The second hand furniture was worn but comfortable, the sheets on the bed freshly washed just in case, and the cozy rooms still smelled faintly of lemon-scented furniture polish.

Nancy flopped on the couch, and put on a movie she'd seen a dozen times already as a distraction. She would not stare at her phone. And what did "call you" even mean? It didn't matter, she would not wait for Agent Waters to "call her" like she was some lovesick wallflower who had never even been kissed. So what if she didn't date much, she was doing just fine on her own, and if the bitchy blond with her big tits thought she was going to waltz in here and be all "Eyes down you will address me as Goddess Mistress Lady Superior Amazing Tits and Unicorn Farts!" this and "Let's find you a gangbang to star in and send a recording of it to every contact in your phone" that well she could just go fuck herself! The sheer, unmitigated nerve of that woman!

Nancy clenched her jaw and spent the next hour having intermittent imaginary arguments with Agent Waters. She picture herself yelling at Agent Waters over the phone, told her never to contact her again, and by the time Agent Waters called Nancy was furious. She was more than ready to be done forever with the woman she had bathroom sex with three days ago and had been fantasizing about since she met her at her security clearance review.

Her phone rang and Nancy turned off the movie and stabbed her finger into the touch screen to accept the call with a snarl. It said "unknown caller" but Nancy knew who it was, and as soon as Waters confirmed it was her Nancy was ready to tell the agent in no uncertain terms that she didn't do booty calls and where she could stick her overly inflated opinion of herself if she thought Nancy was just some chatroom hoe she could boss around for her sadistic kicks. "Yes, hello?"

The voice on the other end of the line was anything but cool, imperious, or demanding. It sounded warm, but also uncertain, like it was hopeful but afraid of saying the wrong thing. "Hi, Nancy? It's Chris. So do you still want to talk about... you know, stuff? I got Thai from that place three blocks from here and I'm at your building door. It's Yum Nua and Pad Thai. I promise I wasn't cyber-stalking you, just looking for decent takeout in the neighborhood and happened to see your review. You said that's what you always got... Well, your review did... Uh, yeah, I hope that's okay, I just hate trying to decide on dinner and delivery always takes forever on a Friday night, if it even arrives and they get the order wrong like half the time." The voice paused, then resumed in a hurried clip when the silence on the phone lingered. "But we can always go out or get delivery from somewhere else if that's not okay! Or does that sound good? To you? Thai food?"

The fucking bitch brought her favorite Thai food! Nancy tried to hold onto her anger, but felt it fading from her body and mind as the other woman talked. Apparently, to Agent Waters "call you" meant "talk like a couple of people who happened to be kinky on a first date" and not "just waltz in and take serious liberties with your person without asking first." Nancy eventually realized she hadn't replied to a single thing that had been said and jumped. "Yeah, yes, this is Nancy, that sounds great, let me buzz you in." She walked over and held the button down to unlock the outer door to the building, took a second to let the last of her anger fade, and then went over and unlocked and opened the door to her apartment. Slightly without her full consent, her face broke out into a ridiculous grin. Agent Waters' friends called her "Chris." She, Nancy Mitchell, would call the striking woman who might just dramatically end her long romantic dry spell, "Chris." She rolled the name around in her mouth, and decided she liked the feel of it.

Chris' blond hair appeared first, coming up the stairs at a steady clip. Nancy stood in her doorway, watching the woman's face, a heavy charcoal gray sweater dress with geometric patterns embroidered around the neck and chest, an umbrella in one hand trailing drops of water and a brown paper bag of food in the other, and finally a black pair of leather boots. Nancy let out a sigh when she saw the boots, slick black and shining with beads of water on them.

Chris looked up from managing the umbrella and bag of food that her attention had been focused on. She saw Nancy's smile, smiled back, and brightly said, "Oh wow, Nancy! You look really gay!" Chris' eyes went wide, her cheeks flushed, and she exhaled sharply. "Great! I mean you look great! Shit! You look really great!"

A snort that turned into a laugh forced itself out of Nancy's mouth and the last of the tension left her body. "You look great too Chris, come on in."

Chris handed Nancy the food, and carefully leaned the umbrella where it would drip on the mat by the door. She maneuvered out of Nancy's way as the shorter woman closed the door behind her and flipped the deadbolt. Nancy took the food over to the small, wooden dining table and started pulling out items while Chris pulled her boots off and set them on the mat. "So to drink I've got diet-oh, you got boba tea! All right!" Chris felt the warmth of the apartment take the chill from her skin and walked over to stand by the table as Nancy pulled open plastic takeout containers that would be added to her not-Tupperware collection later and diplomatically put the steaming entrees in the center. "Family style?"

"Yes, please." Chris nodded and sat down and the two began adding rice, noodles, and pieces of sizzling brown meat to their bowls, then sat down and began to eat. After a few mouthfuls, Chris paused to look around the apartment. Mismatched furniture on a hardwood floor, a bookshelf with mostly travel books, cooking books, and card and board games (many still in their plastic wrap), a few DVDs, a corkboard with pictures over a small secretary style desk with an office chair, a current gen video game system and one controller, and a variety of small and medium-sized plants punctuated the brick facade walls. Chris murmured around the food appreciatively, and threw out a conversation starter. "This is a really nice place. Who's in the pictures?" She pointed to the corkboard with her fork.

Nancy swallowed. "College friends mostly. After graduation we all ended up in different cities, but we still stay in touch. Electronically in touch anyway. We do a video call after the holidays, since we don't really see each other in person anymore. I think I remember what it's like to have a social life? Vaguely?"

"Tell me about it, I haven't had a consistent friend circle in years." Chris nodded and added some rice to her bowl. "I take forever to build up a group of people I like, then they move for jobs, have kids, whatever, and poof." She paused, and looked at the woman across the table taking a long drink of boba tea. "So what do you want to know? I feel like I know so much more about you, it only seems fair that you should get to ask me questions about me and my life for a change."

Nancy made a "hmmmm..." sound around her straw and put on her best vaguely German super villain accent. "And I suppose ve shall forego ze lie detector thees time. Vhere did you grow up, Mees Vaters?"

Chris acknowledged the point with a rueful shrug and a wince, but answered the question. "Yeah I don't usually meet people I might date that way, sorry. Uhm, anyway, I was an Army brat, so I grew up lots of different places..." The two sat and ate and chatted, and when they were warm and full moved from the table to the couch, and talked about their lives. Their boring, mundane lives in the city, their jobs for the same employer, their families and friends. Eventually the hours ticked away, and Chris smiled and checked the time on her phone. "I'm having a really good time Nancy, but if I'm going to catch the last bus I need to leave soon."

"I'm having a really good time too." Nancy took a deep breath and bit her lower lip. Her earlier reservations flooded her mind, but Chris hadn't given her so much as a polite suggestion, let alone a command. She had even helped her clear the table, carrying the dishes in and setting them neatly on the counter. Nancy knew what her cunt wanted, and her head couldn't come up with a reason not to, so she made a sudden decision and gave an elaborate shrug. "Or you could... catch a bus in the morning?" She could swear that her vagina, which she had so sternly lectured earlier, snickered and called her a slut. Chris paused, and wet her lips, and sudden doubts rose in Nancy's mind. "Unless you have to work early or have a dog that needs walked or something! I totally understand if that's the case and you need to go!"

Chris shook her head. "No, no work in the morning, no dog to walk. I'm just not sure if I stay what we're going to do for the rest of the night." She scooted closer and gently put one hand on Nancy's lower leg on the couch. "See, I've been thinking of all these things I'd like to do to you, but I'm not sure what exactly you're okay with, and what fantasies are better left as fantasies, or if what I have in mind if I stay might be moving too fast for you."

A humming started in Nancy's head. She thought about all the things she had written about, and the woman sitting across from her reading those depraved, sexual acts and thinking about making her perform them for her amusement. For the amusement of strangers. In public. Nudity. Orgasm control Wardrobe control. Embarrassed, nude, female. Humiliated, naked, Mosquito Bites. Her cheeks turned red and gooseflesh formed on her arms. Logically, she should... what? Turn down what might be her one shot at a fulfilling sex life with a compatible partner and maybe even happiness? She wasn't really taking a plunge off the high-dive here, just stepping in the shallow end of the pool. She started talking before her doubts could ruin things with Chris before they began. "Uhm, well, just about everything in my stories are fantasies, so far anyway, and I'm not totally sure about which ones should stay fantasies. But I spend a lot of time thinking about some of those things, and I think I like you and I don't think we'd be moving too fast if you wanted to try some of them tonight." She put her hand on top of Chris' and gave it a squeeze back. "We're both grown ups, why don't we take the whole doing fantasies thing one step at a time and if we start light, go slow, and we can stop if we need to and I think it would be all right? Probably even fun?"

Then Chris leaned in, and Nancy leaned in, and they kissed a second time. There was more pressure, more passion, less hesitancy in this kiss. The humming in Nancy's head increased. Then Chris was standing up, and her hand was wrapped around Nancy's wrist and she was pulling Nancy off the couch to stand in front of her. Chris looked down at Nancy, and her face was a mask. "Well then Nancy, I think I'd like to take you for a little walk, but as cute as those clothes are they just won't do for a shame slut who gets off on being exposed in public places."

The humming in Nancy's brain increased again, and she started breathing faster. Chris pulled her into her bedroom, and she trotted along behind her willingly. This was happening. This was actually happening. The feeling from the bathroom, of someone else being in control, of not being able to edit and change things, of being on the cusp of finally knowing what it felt like to be told to do the things she read and wrote about was intoxicating. Chris slid her closet doors open, and turned on the light, then looked at the chest of drawers alongside the wall. Nancy's body flushed at the casual violation of her privacy. A woman she barely knew was looking through her closet, with a very ulterior motive. A woman who knew all about her fantasies, who had just stopped asking permission. Nancy's brain finally found a few cells that were functional enough to communicate with her tongue, and in a soft voice she asked, "What sort of clothes are you looking for, Chris?"

Chris' thoughts jumped from her plans to the woman beside her. Chris was breathing faster too, and getting excited. She told herself to slow down, and take it one step at a time, like she had told herself she would. This was work, but there was nothing wrong with enjoying her work. And she had given Nancy plenty of chances to back out, but she was going along. Willingly. Eagerly. Her whole posture, even her voice, was more submissive. The little slut wanted this, needed it, would get off on it and crawl to her begging for more, if she played this right. And that meant giving her a taste, but not so much she choked. She reached out and rubbed the sleeve of Nancy's shirt between two fingers. "Well, first of all, we need you out of these, don't you think?"

Grammatically speaking it wasn't a command. Even the tone left room for it to be a question, and not a command. Unless Nancy wanted it to be a command. She decided she did, and started undoing the buttons on her shirt. Her fingers were trembling, and Chris gently took her hands and moved them to her sides. The agent's strong fingers undid the rest of the buttons, and then let Nancy's shirt fall open. Chris stepped forward until their bodies were almost touching, then slid the shirt off of Nancy's shoulders, down her arms, and off.

Nancy stood there in her bra, trying not to hyperventilate while another woman calmly folded her shirt and put it on top of the dresser. The button on her pants and the zipper followed, and Chris locked eyes with her while she pulled them over Nancy's hips and down her legs. Nancy didn't need to be told to lift her left foot, then her right. Her pants followed her shirt, folded and on top of her dresser. And just like that she was down to her socks, bra, and panties in front of a woman who knew all her dirtiest fantasies. Nancy's brain was trying to process what was happening. This wasn't a sensual, slow removal of her clothing to tantalize a lover. It was a business-like, practical undressing of someone being treated like an object. The clothes covering her body were an obstacle to her degradation, and therefore they were being removed. It was that simple. Nancy blinked slowly, and forced herself to keep her hands at her side, to acquiesce to her own impending humiliation.

Nancy expected her bra to go next, but instead Chris hooked her fingers into the elastic of her panties, knelt down, and stared directly at her pussy as she slid them down to the floor. Nancy could feel the air hit her exposed skin and knew she was already wet. Her short trimmed public hair held some of the moisture, but the excess was already starting to run down her thighs. Chris gave a little sigh of appreciation, and murmured, "I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself. Such a pretty little pussy, we definitely need to show it off more. And so very wet, you really do need someone to take control of that greedy hole between your legs."

Nancy tried to think of something sexy to say in return, but she was past putting her feelings into words. She wasn't a garden hose down there like some of the women in her stories, but her pussy did get very wet and no one had trouble finding her clit when she was aroused. She knew she was an exhibitionist on some level, and that when she was writing about women being nude in front of clothed people she was exploring her kinks in a safe way, but this was the first time someone who had read those fantasies was in her bedroom, slowly stripping away her clothing and making it impossible for her to hide or deny her arousal. And Chris was okay with it, liked it even and-

Nancy's self-analysis was interrupted when Chris tapped her left foot, and said, "Up." Nancy lifted her foot and one leg of her panties and then her sock was removed. The process was repeated with her right foot. Her panties and socks went on top of the growing pile of clothes on the dresser. Chris had put her feet down just a little further apart than Nancy usually stood. Nothing dramatic, but enough to make her conscious of how she was spreading her legs, deliberately inviting anyone to see her pussy and how turned on she was right now.

Nancy was naked except for her bra now. Of course, Chris would have known that in many ways that was her most intimate garment. The most difficult thing for her to let someone else remove and be seen without. The only thing hiding her preferred source of the shame and humiliation she wanted to feel, but also her biggest potential emotional trigger.

Chris admired Nancy's body, the trim, athletic figure, the lean tightly-muscled legs, the tight stomach with the slightest bulge leading down to her pussy. She could feel Nancy trembling. Nancy had responded positively to how she handled her tits in the bathroom, but this was different. She was in her own home now. She would feel safer and like she could go further, but if things went too far too fast she would probably push back harder too. Chris let Nancy keep the bra on for now. Slow and easy, one step at a time, let her pussy take over and keep her brain from panicking. Chris smiled down at the shivering, nearly naked woman in front of her. "Now, I would like a cocktail. Nothing fancy, how about you make me a rum and Coke?"