Saras Story Ch 04

[Author's notes: I'd like to show my gratitude to Inkstaine for her continued help in editing this story. Thanks Inkstaine!

All characters in this story are over the legal age.

Thanks again for your readership. Please take the time to comment!]

*

Tuesday evening...

After dinner, Michael's voice came over the speakers. "Good evening, ladies. Nice to see you're in such good moods. Now, since you've both been so well behaved today, I was going to let you have the rest of the night off. However, I thought I'd give you the option of an extra-credit assignment."

"Oh boy, extra credit!" Sara quipped.

"Now, now, Sara. At least wait until I tell you what it is. First, the reward:. If you do what I ask tonight, I'll let you both send a letter home, or where ever you want."

"Wait a sec, how do we even know you'll send it?" Sara asked.

"You don't," Michael said flatly. "You'll have to trust me I'm afraid, but I have no reason to lie. You can write the letter, and I'll send it out in the morning. Not from here, of course, but your recipient will get it just the same"

"What do you want us to do?" asked Charlotte.

"That's the easy part. All you have to do is kiss," Michael replied.

"A kiss?" said Charlotte, "That's all?"

"He doesn't mean a good-night kiss you'd give to your mom, Charlotte." Sara then turned her attention to the nearest camera. "Do you, Michael?"

"Sara is correct. For the kiss to count, it has to be a good one. Open mouth, full, and not short."

"Nothing else?" Sara asked, not sure if she believed him, "You can't change the deal on us."

"No, Sara, nothing else. Just a kiss, but if you make it extra-good, I might throw in something special on top of the letter. We'll have to see."

"Give us a minute," said Sara.

She looked at Charlotte, who was next to her on the couch, brow furrowed in thought. Sara thought of her mother; she'd be beside herself in grief by now. In the least a letter would give her hope. Sara didn't doubt that Michael would do as he said. There would be no reason not too.

Charlotte looked up and caught Sara's eye. "Do you think he'll really send the letters if we do it?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I mean it could be a lie, but I think he'd just try to force us or offer some other kind of bait instead."

"I guess after this morning it wouldn't be so bad." Charlotte said. "I'm sure Crissy and her folks are really worried about me, and I know Ma is. Maybe Papa too. It would be good to let them know I'm okay."

"I think so. Well?"

Charlotte bit her lip, then nodded. "Let's do it," she said with a devilish grin.

Sara looked up at the nearest camera. "Okay, we're in. But you better not be messing with us."

"Very good," Michael replied. "Whenever you're ready, ladies."

Sara took Charlotte's hand; it was cold and damp with nervous sweat.

Charlotte smiled and said, "Maybe you should take the lead. I...I've never kissed a girl, and I've never really kissed a boy before, either. At least not the way

he

wants us too."

Sara turned to face Charlotte on the couch, sitting on her legs and leaning forward. Though her hand trembled in Sara's, Charlotte's face was open, welcoming. Her lips parted just enough to show a glimmer of white. Sara caressed her cheek, brushing a stray hair behind the girl's ear. Her fingers traced lines through her hair before circling around to palm the nape of her neck. She pulled Charlotte close, their lips almost touching. Sara could feel Charlotte's breath, quick and hot, on her lips. She quickly closed that narrow gap and kissed her, drawing Charlotte's succulent bottom lip between her own. Sara left the girl's hand in her lap and drew their bodies together with an arm around her waist. Charlotte was rigid, perfectly still. Her hands found Sara's hips, but parked there like a shy teenager on a first dance. Sara slipped the boundary of Charlotte's mouth with the slightest flick of her tongue. The hands on her hips squeezed. The body that had been so stiff began to melt onto hers. Charlotte's mouth opened, their tongues met. Sara could feel the beating of the girl's chest next to her own, the heat rising between them. Charlotte sank back into the folds of the couch, and Sara followed her down, legs entwined, hands moving freely across the curves of their bodies. At last out of breath, Sara broke the spell of the kiss, sucking Charlotte's lips and planting light kisses on her chin; slowly bringing them back down to earth. Sara tried to pull away, but Charlotte held her there with a hand between her shoulders. "Not yet," she whispered. "Just...for a minute, don't let go." They laid there, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, until Charlotte finally looked up at her and chuckled.

...

Sara read over her letter one last time before stuffing it into an envelope and licking the adhesive. She then flipped it over, sealed it, and wrote her mother's address on the front. If Michael sent it off tomorrow, she'd get it by the next day. Hopefully then she would rest just a little easier. At least she'd know her only daughter wasn't rotting in some dumpster somewhere. At least not yet. Sara tried to be upbeat, confident that her captor would do as he said and release her once she and Charlotte did what he asked. Until now, she had avoided thinking about that question. What was Michael really planning? Was he a killer? She didn't know. Would this be the last thing she ever said to her mother? Sara shook her head. It didn't do a lick of good to dwell on it, one way or the other.

Charlotte was finishing her own letter when she looked up and caught Sara watching her. "What?" she said with a smile.

"Oh, nothing," said Sara, "just thinking."

"Penny for your thoughts."

"Well, I was just thinking about what you said the other night, about how you were glad it was me you're stuck here with."

Charlotte chewed the end of her pencil and smiled. "Yeah."

"Well, I'm glad too. You're a great girl, Charlotte. I'm sorry you're in this mess, but I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be here."

Charlotte blushed and went back to her letter.

...

Wednesday.

By the third day of her kidnapping, Sara Kierson no longer carried herself like a captive. She went about her new routine without the slightest glance at the ever vigilant cameras. She chose her outfit according to which gave her a sense of power. She exercised. She ate her breakfast. She enjoyed Charlotte's company.

Bath time started after lunch today, instead of before. Sara quickly fell into her role as the woman in charge. As before, didn't make the first attempt to prevent her fingers from going wherever they chose to go. She only got very quiet, and turned her face away when it flushed with excitement. Instead of Brazilian wax jobs, today Michael's fancy was painting nails. The girls wrapped themselves in silk robes and headed out to the living room for the assignment. Charlotte chose bright red for her fingers and toes. Sara did the fingers first, then plopped down at Charlotte's feet to do the toes. Looking up, underneath the robe and between the loosely closed legs, Sara could again see the telltale wetness, confirming what she already knew.

I'll be home soon,

she couldn't help but think. A few minutes later it was Charlotte's turn to sit on the floor. Taking note of Sara's habit, Charlotte chose a different color for every toe. Sara idly wondered if Charlotte noticed wetness between her own legs. If she, like her, knew the unmistakable scent of a woman aroused.

Just after dinner, while Charlotte had excused herself to the bathroom, Sara heard one of the doors on the far side of the living room open, and in walked Michael. "What's up? Sara asked, never taking her gaze off the television.

"It's time we picked things up a notch, Sara." Michael said, going straight to the point.

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"Tonight, I want you to take her a little farther than you have been."

Sara paused and sat up. "Are you sure she's ready, Michael? If you push her, she'll clam up. I don't think you want that to happen."

"She's ready. Not to go all the way, but to go...further. This will help," he produced a bottle of red wine and set it on the end table.

"Uh, I don't think she drinks. Fundy parents and all that."

"She's not into girls, either, but you could have had her yesterday if you wanted."

Sara stood. She took in the spectacle of him: a grown man in a neoprene mask, and he didn't even have any superpowers.

Ridiculous

, she thought. "I suppose, but she didn't think I was going to do anything, either. Sometimes it's all about expectations."

"Just try, Sara. That's all. I'm sure she's as ready to get out of here as you are, or am I making your stay here to pleasant?"

Sara put up a hand. "Alright, alright, no need to be like that. I'll do it. But you better leave before she comes back; she freaks out whenever she sees you and it'll kill the mood."

Just as Michael was leaving through the rear door of the living room, Charlotte came in through the front. She froze in her tracks. "Was that Michael? What did he want?" she asked as she watched the door shut with a click behind him.

Sara shrugged. "He just left us some wine for an after dinner treat. I suppose for that extra spicy kiss you laid on me last night. Do you drink?" she asked Charlotte as she sat down next to her on the couch.

Charlotte shook her head. "No, Papa said that drink is a sin."

Sara cracked a half-smile. "What about turning water into wine and all that?"

"Uh, Papa says it was grape juice."

Sara burst out laughing. "Not much of a miracle then, is it?"

Charlotte couldn't help but laugh. "Guess not. I can't imagine the Lord served Welches," she said with a snort.

"C'mon," said Sara, grabbing the bottle with one hand and Charlotte's hand with the other. "It's been a stressful week. Nothing takes the edge off like a glass of wine." Sara led her to the bedroom, where she put on some music and uncorked the wine. She poured two glasses and handed one to Charlotte. Charlotte sat on the divan and leaned her back against the wall. Sara sat down next to her.

"I guess it's not too much of a sin, is it?" Charlotte said. "I mean, after everything else that happened today, and yesterday." She took a sip of wine and felt the warmth radiate from her belly.

Sara likewise took a drink and studied the girl for a moment before speaking. "Do you feel bad about it, what happened yesterday?" she asked.

There was a pause; the sip became a gulp. "Maybe a little," Charlotte said. She ran her finger around the rim of the glass. "I've never made out with anyone. Never even really kissed anyone, Sara. One time I kissed a boy behind the shed at Crissy's house, but I was only twelve. I don't think it really counts. Now in one day I've french kissed a girl and done...other stuff."

"We could just tell him we're not going to fool around for him anymore," Sara said as she refilled Charlotte's glass.

Charlotte looked up at her, "Whaddya think he'll do?" she asked.

"Dunno," Sara said with a shrug, "punish us, no doubt. Take away all of our toys; treat us like we're on restriction. He's pretty blunt, Charlotte. There's really no telling what he'll do if we refuse him, he's already whipped me once."

"He did not!" Charlotte said, spilling some wine on her bare leg and wiping it off with a palm. "When? What did you do?"

"The night before you got here, my first night here," Sara replied. She flashed a wicked grin, "I peed in his mouth."

Charlotte gasped, putting her hand over her mouth in shock, then she burst out laughing, spilling more of her wine. "Oh my god! that's so gross!" she said between guffaws. A perplexed look crossed her face. "What was he doing down

there

, anyway?" she asked.

"What do you

think

he was doing, Charlotte?" Sara said. "I was tied up. He didn't leave me much choice."

"Oh, well I guess that put an end to that."

"No, it didn't. He cleaned himself up and kept going. Michael can be very persistent. And persuasive. Keep it in mind, Charlotte."

"Oh. Then he whipped you?"

Sara nodded. For awhile neither spoke, each content to enjoy the wine, the music and the company. Finally, Charlotte broke the silence. "I hope he never does that to me."

"What," asked Sara, "whip you, or go down on you?"

Charlotte chuckled. "Either," she said, "but I meant going down there."

Sara smiled and looked at her. "It's not that bad, Charlotte. He didn't do anything else, thank god. Just that, and if it had been someone else, someone I wanted, it would have been

awesome

."

Charlotte leaned in a little closer, close enough that Sara could smell the wine on her breath, and whispered, "Sometimes, at night, I fantasize about it. When I was a kid I found one of Ma's romance novels, the ones she hides from papa, and read it. My favorite scene was when the guy came into the girl's room at night when she was asleep and did that. I read it over and over."

Sara brushed a stray hair from that perfectly innocent face. "Maybe one day you'll get to experience the real thing," she said.

Charlotte nodded, biting her lip. "One day I hope. With someone who is experienced; who will do it right."

Now dammit,

screamed the voice in Sara's head.

Sara held Charlotte's chin with her finger and kissed her. Charlotte's tongue slid eagerly into her mouth as her body pressed against Sara's. Empty wineglasses slipped to the carpeted floor. Sara cupped Charlotte's head in her hands and returned the kiss with equal passion. She straddled Charlotte, her lips moving to nibble the lobes of Charlotte's ears. Charlotte caught her breath, her hands, rigid with the timidity of inexperience, clung to Sara's hips and pressed their bodies together. Nimble fingers worked the lace straps of Charlotte's top, exposing alabaster breasts and round, hard nipples. Sara guided Charlotte down, nestling her into the thick cushions of the divan. She then lifted herself up and took one brief moment to admire the scene: a round porcelain face framed by a tangle of black, a face so innocent, yet so wanton. And those breasts, so exquisite in the way they parted when she laid on her back.

Sara bent down and planted light kisses between Charlotte's breasts as she cupped one and admired its weight, the feel of it in her hand. Her kisses shifted, moving up the gentle rise until she found her nipple. She circled it with her tongue, drawing it to an even harder point. Charlotte moaned, her hands finally relaxed and found the back of Sara's head. Sara caught Charlotte's nipple between her teeth and sucked. The response was immediate. "Oh god," Charlotte whispered between gasps, "that feels amazing."

Sara looked up at her and smiled, hazel eyes flashing. "Oh, just you wait." Charlotte giggled. Sara planted kisses along her neck and behind her ear. Her legs, rigid and straight, opened ever so slightly and Sara slid in between them as Charlotte spread them even more to accommodate. Charlotte did not return Sara's affections. Her hands clung to Sara's side, neither preventing or taking part. Yet her body reacted to every touch, every squeeze and caress. Sara's kisses continued down, past her breasts and down her tummy. When she reached the edge of Charlotte's panties, she sat up.

Charlotte grinned.

Sara ran her nails along Charlotte's inner thigh and the girl gasped. She brought her fingers up, along her hips, and took her panties between her fingers. To Sara's surprise, Charlotte lifted her hips. Sara smiled at that, and pulled her panties off and threw them on the floor. Charlotte's gaze never left her for a second. Sara laid a hand on Charlotte's stomach, and then ran them down between her legs. Charlotte arched her back and groaned. Sara could feel the wetness, knew the girl was as ready as she would ever be.

Before Charlotte lost her nerve, Sara lay down between her legs and started to kiss the girl's swollen labia. Her tongue split that opening, and Sara was surprised by how wet she was. The effect was intoxicating, exhilarating. Instantly, her own vagina began to throb and ache in response. Charlotte grabbed a fistful of hair and pressed Sara's face into her. Sara put her lips directly over Charlotte's vagina and began to suck. Charlotte's hips began to move, thrusting into Sara's open mouth and smearing her wetness across her face.

Sara was in a daze of passion. The fingers of her left hand acted on their own accord, seeking out her own pleasure. She felt her hips thrusting into the edge of the divan, seeking friction, release. Sara's mouth went from the opening of Charlotte's vagina to her clitoris. She fought against Charlotte's pressing hands and lifted her head slightly- just enough to give her tongue the space to delicately brush the tip of Charlotte's clit. Charlotte stiffened. Her climax was close, and much sooner than Sara wanted.

But Charlotte's hands went to the sides of the couch. "Wait," she whispered, her voice tinged with desperation and fright.

Sara did not stop.

"Sara, please. Stop," Charlotte begged. "I'm sorry, I'm...I'm not ready."

Sara lifted her head. Between her beautiful breasts, she could see Charlotte looking down at her, her face filled with confusion and dismay. Sara kissed her thigh. "It'll be okay, Charlotte. It's not going to hurt or anything. It's me."

"I...I just don't know," said Charlotte between breaths. "I want you, but it doesn't feel right. Maybe it's the wine."

Sara continued to kiss Charlotte's thigh, making a slow line that lead back between her legs. Between kisses she said, "It's just because it's your first time. It will be okay. Just relax."

Charlotte nodded. Reluctantly her hands moved back to Sara's head, but they were stiff, mechanical.

Sara closed her eyes and continued to go down on her, running a line with her tongue that started at Charlotte's perineum and went all the way up. She felt Charlotte's body heave as the girl took in a deep breath.

Almost there,

Sara thought.

Then she realized that the shaking of Charlotte's body was caused, not by pleasure, but by her sobs.

"I'm so sorry," Charlotte said as tears stained her cheeks, "I want to, Sara, but I can't. Please don't be mad at me!"

Oh god,

Sara thought.

I'm such an ass. I'm worse than a teenager.

Sara moved up from between her legs. Charlotte wrapped her arms around her and wept into her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sara, please don't be upset."

Sara stroked her hair and sighed. "How could I be mad at you? It's my fault, Charlotte, not yours. I should have stopped as soon as you asked me to."

"But you're so beautiful," Charlotte protested, "and now you're not going to like me anymore." Charlotte was crushed. The awkwardness and uncertainty of the first time, the wine, the fear of her captor, everything came crashing in on her at that moment. She sobbed while Sara gently cradled her.

Finally, after some time had passed, Sara broke the silence. "I can't do this," she muttered.

Charlotte lifted up her head in confusion, but Sara wasn't looking at her. Sara's gaze was upon the nearest camera.

"Michael," Sara began, "I can't do this. She's not ready. Hell, she's just a kid."

"What do you mean," said Charlotte. "What's going on."

"That's enough for tonight, get some rest," Michael said over the speakers.

"No," Sara replied flatly. "It's over, Michael. I can't go through with this."

"Wait...you planned this?" Charlotte asked.

Sara looked down at Charlotte. "When he brought me the wine, he told me to take it a little further. I was going to tell you, but I didn't want you to get worked up about it," she said.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," said Michael.

Charlotte withdrew to the far end of the divan and covered herself. "You mean you were trying to take seduce me? I thought you were doing it because you liked me," she said. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.