It was a full week before Bethany heard again from Mrs Boxwell. All during the week at school she had felt anxiety, almost heartsickness, at what she had done last Saturday night. A million questions went through her mind. Mainly, it was: What's wrong with me? But then as she thought about her cute friend Lissy on her knees doing what she was doing, how shocking it was, she could not help but get excited. Late in her bed at night she masturbated. Oh, it was wrong, but she couldn't stop herself. Images assailed her mind: the black-haired beauty moving her head rhythmically; her hands tied behind her naked back; Mrs Boxwell smiling arrogantly... And then the sounds, the almost weird squishy sounds of a wet tongue moving and moving again over the same spot, and the long sighs and moans... Most horrible, and exciting, was the remembrance of her good friend's gaze looking up through pubic hair, their eyes meeting and then looking away quickly. Yes, it was shameful. What was Bethany to do? There was certainly no one to talk to about it. Not even Lissy, who now avoided her in the halls at high school. They were going to graduate in only a few weeks and now their friendship seemed irrevocably ruined. It was just too strange. In their History AP class, Bethany looked at the back of Lissy's head--her long black hair gathered in a pony-tail--and her stomach lurched when she saw the head bob, but, no, just from a question in class. It was not at all from what Bethany imagined it to be. She was surely going crazy...
Then it happened. She received an email, the sender's name causing her heart to jump painfully. It was from Mrs Boxwell, and it had an attachment. Hands shaking, Bethany got up from her desk and went to close her bedroom door. She didn't want even the smallest chance of her little sister seeing what might be on her computer. Blowing out a breath, she sat again. The subject line read: YOU BETTER LOOK AT THIS!
She opened the email. It merely said, "Bethany, thanks for the babysitting last Saturday. I think I will need you again on this Saturday at around seven. Can you come?"
Bethany stared for a long time, her mind blank. Finally roused from a violent wash of images and feelings, she remembered the attachment. It was two photos. One was of Lissy standing naked with her hands tied behind her back. The other was of Bethany leaning back on the chair topless--the rest of the photo was cropped, but with a rush of excitement Bethany knew it was taken when Lissy had gone down on her. In fact, she looked close to having an orgasm.
Bethany replied: "Yes, I'll be there." She hesitated to write, "Please don't tell anyone," or even, "Will Lissy be there?" but instead, losing the nerve, she merely hit REPLY.
* Saturday night arrived with excruciating slowness. But then it was suddenly upon her and Bethany was rushing out the door, yelling behind her that she was going and getting a yell from her mom in return to "Have fun!"
Bethany shuddered.
She walked the five blocks to Mrs Boxwell's house. At the door finally, she rang the bell and waited with weak knees. She nearly fled before the door opened abruptly.
"Oh, Bethany! I'm glad you could come over. Please, come in."
It was as if nothing had happened. Mrs Boxwell was acting in her usual crisp, professional manner. She wore a dark navy outfit with a wide leather belt and gold earrings.
"Hello, hi, uh, I...?" Bethany stammered.
"Don't be so shy! Come in!"
Then Mrs Boxwell flashed that arrogant smile of hers, and Bethany felt sick, heart pounding. The older woman's teeth were white and perfect, her black eyebrows plucked and slightly angled to give her an appearance of indefatigable watchfulness. The eyes shone as Bethany stepped inside the house.
The two women went into the living room, exactly the place of their debauchery the week before. Bethany's heart lurched when she saw her friend on the couch, smiling almost apologetically.
"Hey," Lissy said.
Her black hair was undone, spilling over her shoulders, and it looked like she had some makeup on, rouge on her cheeks and lipstick--which was unusual for Lissy, who was a natural beauty. But what caught Bethany's eye most was the dark stripe on Lissy's neck. As she came closer she realized it was a collar. Bethany jumped, feeling Mrs Boxwell's hand land on her shoulder.
"I thought you two would like to see each other again," Mrs Boxwell said. "Lissy tells me you haven't talked much this week. Is that right, Bethany?"
"Well, no, I mean, yes, a little. But..."
"That's fine. That's fine. Sit over here, please. Good. Now, as you girls know I have certain pieces of incriminating evidence. Yes?"
Lissy murmured, "Yes." Bethany could only nod dumbly.
"Now..." Mrs Boxwell paused. She stood before the girls, also seeming a little nervous. "You understand what I could do to you? Lissy, you already told me your parents are religious. What would they think of what you did last Saturday?"
Lissy looked at the floor. "They would kill me," she said.
"Yes. And Bethany?"
"Please, I... I don't want to do this. I'm... not a lesbian. Please!"
Mrs Boxwell laughed a short, weird rasp. "No one is calling you a lesbian, dear girl. And what do you think you are being asked to do, exactly?"
"I don't know."
"Well, I think I do." Mrs Boxwell was becoming visibly excited. Her left hand dropped to her belt, the thumb unconsciously touching the buckle. "I have plans for you two tonight. Very interesting plans. You two like going to mall, don't you?"
Both girls nodded.
"I thought so. But instead of shopping for clothes, we're going to shop for girls, so to speak."
Bethany could only stare. But she was surprised to hear Lissy say "Yes," in a soft, submissive voice.
"But first, I would like an appetizer, so to speak. Bethany? Stand for me, please."
Bethany hesitated. But, after exchanging a quick look with her friend, she rose from the couch.
"Please, Mrs Boxwell. I'm real sorry for everything. Couldn't you just let us go...?"
"Shh. I have something for you."
Bethany flinched as Mrs Boxwell brought up her hand and, brushing away Bethany's blonde hair, snapped on a black collar around the girl's neck.
"There. You may have noticed Lissy has one too. She understands what it means. Don't you, Lissy?"
"Yes, Mrs Boxwell."
"Please...?" Bethany fingered the collar at her neck. She had never felt so ashamed. She thought of ripping the thing away but she was afraid of what might happen: Mrs Boxwell's eyes scared her. "I don't want this. Please?"
"Hush. Lissy? Are you ready? Good."
"Bethany?" Lissy said in a strange voice. "Come over here. Get on your knees."
"What?"
"Now!" Lissy said with sudden force. "Get on your knees!"
Mrs Boxwell smiled. "That's good. Keep going."
Bethany looked at Lissy in amazement. With her makeup on and the collar, Bethany barely recognized her friend. Was this a dream? Not knowing what else to do, she dropped slowly to her knees.
"We want you get some practice first," Mrs Boxwell said.
Lissy pushed up her skirt. She wasn't wearing panties. Spreading her legs, she revealed her neatly trimmed pussy.
"Lick my pussy."
Bethany groaned. She felt helpless. She could smell her friend as she neared the pussy. She remembered that smell. She sighed, feeling a hopeless insanity coming over her. But she continued to hesitate. Lissy looked down at her, trying to smile.
"Tell her to eat your pussy, Lissy. Come on." Mrs Boxwell got more comfortable, sitting in her chair.
"Eat my pussy," Lissy said.