A Study in Fragrance Pt. 14

Anal

She let the feelings rush through her, the hint of shame, the memory of how stupid she’d been and how awkward that felt, now. She knew she had been stupid, but as many times as she questioned what she’d done, she never wanted to take it back, to do it over again. Her insides clenched, the muscles along her channel so much stronger now than when Cos first entered her. She looked at the table, the memory of that particular spanking flowing back. That was when she’d turned a corner, when she’d really let go. She looked at the inlay; the memories of all the things Abby’s knot had compelled her to do flooding one on top of the other.

Complicit was still there, the fragrance just as she’d remembered it, but she wondered if she was imagining it. Surely it can’t still be active? That would have been amazing, but it didn’t matter, whatever it had done to her was permanent; smelling it again wouldn’t change things. The fragrance prompted her memories, some still intense, others salty-sweet. Still, she looked over her shoulder to the cabinet, to her bedroom, knowing she could get rid of it once and for all when she wanted to. She felt a tug in her core and recognized it as Naomi. Nothing major, but given what time it was, it might turn into something. She couldn’t do anything about it but hope it was nothing.

She closed the closet entrance behind her and looked through the octagon to the backyard, the perfume stirring up memories she thought she’d lost. She had thought it would be over once the job was done, but it had gotten so much crazier…

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…the morning sun hit her face, the memory of last night’s ceremony fresh and confusing. She had to pee, her lips burning a little, the memory of what she’d done, what she’d let him do…the tendril’s white bud lifted from her core and she sighed. She had said she’d be his sex slave. She didn’t know if that’s exactly what she’d screamed, but whatever. Servant cunt was pretty much the same thing. But that wasn’t what Abby wanted! She played with the thought, letting it tumble around in her half-sleep, as her pee tumbled into the water, her lips stinging from the flow. Maybe Abby hadn’t really built the perfume. Emily was getting more convinced of that. The fragrance was an accident, a perfume that Abby could never have designed, a mixture that took a century to cook. Even if that wasn’t true, she knew Abby hadn’t meant anyone harm. She was sure of her theory, lightly blotting her labia, wincing at their tenderness. Emily studied herself in the mirror, her face wrinkled from the pillow. You don’t look any different! She sniffed, thinking she should clean off, turning on the shower. But after lifting the nightshirt she stopped, staring at her body, smelling Cos’s and her cum and reconsidered. Live with it a little longer. She let the shirt drop back across her buns, the fabric reminding her how sensitive they’d become, turning off the taps.

She looked into the bedrooms, Steph and Robert tangled together, sleeping. Noises from Barbara’s room made her move quietly, peeking around the door to see Caroline and Bobby. He was on top, his naked butt moving; her hands down his back. She backed away, smiling; needing coffee. Cos wasn’t due for another hour. She remembered the others would be coming later in the day; there was stuff to do in The Study. She glanced at the time, 8:07. Fuck! Three hours later than usual, but still she’d hoped to stay in bed longer. Luckily she didn’t have practice until Tuesday.

She was still sitting in the kitchen, nursing her coffee, playing with her phone when Cos passed the window. She looked up at him, smiling, uncertain about their new relationship: He’d been so amazing, how he had pushed her to her limit, the edging, his confidence, owning her, and the gentleness and caring. An emotion wavered across his face before he smiled back.

“You good?” Nodded at the coffee. “Okay to grab some?”

“Sure! Yep. Almost perfect. You’re here a little earlier than I expected.” She paused, feeling her body reacting to him being so close to her. “Last night was amazing…” She felt her nipples hardening, poking against her t-shirt. “You?” The tendril stiffening a little. The need. So much need. So many questions about what she had committed to.

He nodded. “It was…it wasn’t like anything…Em…” He turned and looked at her. “Uhhm. Yeah. Fucking amazing.” He paused and stared out the window. “Not much left,” he nodded up the stairs. “It’s looking good to you?”

There. That look. Wistful? She stared at him and back to her phone. “You know,” she said smiling. “I fucking can’t remember what it looks like.” She could barely smell the fragrance over their musk, a light perfume wafting from the back hall.

He laughed, his eyes staring at her just a heartbeat too long.

“I’m here to help. Trim? Some painting? What’s left?” I’m your slave now. What does that mean????

He looked back at the stairs, hesitating. “Yeah. maltepe escort You could paint your closet, need to put the trim on the bookcase. And the closet trim. Uhhmmm…Oh. We’ll need to adjust the doors – both of ’em. I’ll need your help with that.” He sipped his coffee, his face relaxing, the look gone.

“You want to give me a tour? All I remember before I left to chill and get ready…for…was you working on the latch. And then…,” the memory of what they’d done swept over her, “fuckkk. Cos. What the fuck did we do last night?” The intensity of the ceremony, the priests, her friends, Cos, it all roared back so hard, swelling inside, she dropped her phone, gripping the table’s edge to keep from falling over.

“Em!” He reached out, spilling his coffee. “What the fuck!?”

She opened her eyes and saw his face, her need, the empty space where the tendril had been, filled instead with need. “Oh fuckkkk.” She leaned into him, her lips pressed against his, warm, gentle, flowing down her throat, into her core. So much space. So much space. His hand rubbed behind her traps, up and down her spine, stoking the fire. The tendril lay limp in its pot. She pulled away. “I…I said some things…something…last night. I’m,” the tendril pulsed at the shame she felt: his to use for however long. She swallowed, “I’m not sure what I said…You don’t expect me to be your…slave…do you?” she whispered the words, all in a rush, frightened by what that might mean.

“Is that what you think you said?” He was smiling, his eyes twinkling and evasive. “My sex slave? No…no. I don’t want that. Do you want that?”

She sighed, relieved.

“I think you said servant cunt, right? ‘I will be your servant cunt today, tomorrow and for however long…” he stared at her, his eyes burning. “I remember that, and I’ll hold you to it.” His hands had slipped around her, hugging her into him. Better than anything I could have wished for.

She stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked. The way he had taken her, owned her, she wanted to feel that again, to feel him pushing into her. But what did he think those words meant? We need to get that straight! The negotiator in her concerned she may have extended the original contract. Two weeks, except if there were hidden conditions and assuming they worked the time schedule. But they hadn’t, and it wasn’t quite two weeks anyway. Unless agreed to by mutual consent. FUCKKK!! She’d offered an unlimited extension…for however long…and he agreed this morning.

“Hey…” Caroline’s voice broke the moment. “G’morning!” She was dressed and ready to go, Bobby trailing behind her, their fingertips twisted together. “We’re gone. Saw Steph and Robert getting up. Thought we could go get pancakes or something…?” Em saw Bobby glancing between the two of them, embarrassed or shy or…Em couldn’t figure it out.

She smiled, trying to hide the confusion and concern from her face, seeing Caroline’s unasked questions, her heart quickening. Mmmmm. The hot tub. Last night. She wants to do it. And then back to Cos backing away, finding a towel to clean up the spill. “You guys go on. I…we…got work to do. And then I gotta get stuff for the thing with Sarah and Naomi and Allison? Shit. Did we invite Jamie?”

Caroline nodded, looking between the two, mouthing something before turning away. “C’mon Bobby. I’m starving. I’ll be back around 2 to help, mk?”

Be careful. Be careful? Em stared into her coffee cup, the glow from kissing him fading, the fear of what she had committed to, mounting. You can’t let him know; you can’t think about it. You’ve got to talk about it for reals. “Hey,” she turned toward him, “is there still coffee? Let’s see what’s left to do. Oh.” A movement on the back stair caught her eye. “Hey Steph! Robert. Caroline and Bobby are heading to Marlene’s. You guys good?”

Steph was beet red and Robert was smiling like an idiot. “We…uhhh…we kinda left a mess up there?” Steph was walking a little funny, practically pushing Robert toward the door. “I…shit, Em. We need to talk! I…you need something for later?”

“Uh…sure? Another salad? See you around 2? That work?…okay. See you, bye!” Steph had already pushed Robert out and was waving through the window, walking as quickly as she could. Em burst out laughing. Startled, Cos sloshed coffee in his mug, cursing.

“What was that all about?”

“The priests,” she said, laughing. “She’s not figured out her priests.” She could see it as if she had been in their room: Robert spreading Steph’s cheeks, slipping a vibe into her. Maybe a plug too. Oh fuck! Em smiled again.

“Really?” Cos shook his head, turning to the stairs. “How…? Forget it.” He looked mystified. “You’re all in a different world.” It’s like I’m ancient. And then a flash of getting old…and the memory of what they’d done last night: her face, her eyes, the intensity, her submission. Keep on it dude. She’s yours for the summer…and he got lost in escort maltepe the joys of training her.

“Hey,” she said, linking her arm through his. “I think you’ve made out okay, yeah?” She waved her arms down her body and grew quiet. “I don’t know…I…you’ll be good to me, yeah?” She stared into his face, worry growing she’d committed to something she didn’t fully understand. Again the look. Hmmmm. “Talk to me Cos. I’m freaking out a little.”

He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the stairs. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do, Em. That’s always been the deal. But yeah. Something changed last night. You won’t get any complaints from me.” He quietly hissed it as a whisper in her ear. “Not from me. But I might have heard murmuring.” He nodded up the stairs. “Might need to see what they are saying.”

Em shivered at the realization he was keeping the fantasy going, her hand sliding back to rub her buns: sensitive, but not too bruised to take his hand. Her body pulsed just from the touch of her fingers. Fuck! He’s ready to do it again! She moved her hand to his lower back, rubbing it to feel his strength, to share her feelings, to know he was real. She wouldn’t stop him if he did it. The fragrance was stronger past the first landing. Fuck. I hope the bookcase is open and it’s just leaking out. She couldn’t remember when she had went downstairs just an hour earlier. She shook her head at how muddied it all was. Her thoughts flitting, from the ceremony to him spanking her, the hidden doors, The Study and Abby. She was relieved to see the case had been left open. “What happened last night, Cos? What did you do to me? Didn’t you make priest?” The need, lighting her up, glowing. The tendril was so weak it looked like it might be dying. “What else is there to do?” Take it. Please take it. Run with it. She could feel how wet she was getting, the air flowing under her nightshirt, exposed, imagining what he might do with the power she’d given him. “We need to firm up the contract, Cos. ‘Mutual consent.'” She stared at him, her body ready to submit, her mind not yet willing.

Mountain lion. He smiled, lips pressed together, nodding slightly. “You’ve barely begun your training.” He leaned in, his breath against her ear. “Servant cunt, for however long…You know what you can do to stop it. You still have the power, Em.”

They were at the top of the stairs, Cos leaning in behind her, his mouth at her neck. She froze from the menace in his voice, wanting him to go further, but too frightened to let go of the original terms. His hands slipped up her thighs, across her ribs, dragging the t-shirt, its hem caught briefly against her breasts. He kept moving, sliding the fabric under her arms, the hem inching up her breasts to catch for a moment against her nipples and then snapping up to her chin. He tipped her head forward peeling the shirt over her hair and off her face.

“You’re not even close to trained yet, Em.” He stroked from her chin up her jaw, running his fingers through her hair. “You want to be the best at this, right? Last night was just an initiation ceremony. They need to see just how good a supplicant…a servant cunt…you can be.”

She gasped at his tone and his full court press, him stripping her in one fluid move. FUCK! The way he said it, a locker room taunt, tit for tat. She smiled slightly at her naked breasts, her eyes glancing further down to her bush, the hair matted. Images flashed: legs spread open, taking his cock, her hands tied to her feet in front of her, FUCK! Noooo. His hands pulling against the back of her head, his cock pushing down her throat. She could see the scene, she could hear herself gagging. She moaned. He was using her, using her holes. The “training” had shifted: it wasn’t giving her experience anymore; it was making her into his servant cunt. The shame blossomed, and the tendril lit up, swelling in her gut. Nooo! She couldn’t let it grow again, her inner-competitor rising to the challenge. She could do this. She could let him take her, she could acquiesce, submit. She could use this; it would make her amazing at sex, if she let him teach her. It wasn’t what she’d expected, what the images had led her to do, but now she wasn’t sure what she had expected. And if it was the fragrance all along, then she had never been in control. It doesn’t matter what he says. If you don’t shut it up in the room, the fragrance will make shit happen. She accepted the humiliation and exhaled, watching the tendril sag. “Yeah, I guess,” she was quiet, subdued. “Please help me be the best.”

She couldn’t believe what she was doing, but the fragrance had filled her head. She had to comply. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, Cos.” She looked back at him, keeping her expression open, innocent. Sliding her hands to her cheeks, she tipped forward slightly. “I can’t be your virgin servant cunt anymore,” she whispered, cringing at how awful she sounded, but accepting it if it meant stopping the tendril. “But maltepe escort bayan you can help me be the best servant cunt I can be.” She pulled her cheeks open to expose her asshole and pussy, moaning from the emotional struggle of submitting.

Fucking hell. She was the horniest girl he’d ever met. Just hinting at the fantasy and she was into it. Shame. Humiliation. He reached his hand between her legs sliding across her lips to touch her clit, her juices coating his middle finger, slick and viscous.

She moaned, jerking as he pulsed her clit, her lips stinging from his calloused fingers, even though he barely touched her. His other hand pushed between her shoulder blades, tipping her down, her hands spreading herself open further. His finger slid back and probed at her ring, slowly twisting and pushing, her own lubricants helping him seat it deep into her. His other hand gently stroked up and down her spine.

“They are pleased that you recognize your place.” He pushed her further down until she was bent in two, her knees bending slightly. “Grab your ankles and tell me how many will show them your obedience.”

Her shame burst against her need, cresting and flooding, from her head to her open rosebud. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. This was his fantasy now. She could see where he was taking her. What is the difference between supplicant and slave? She moaned at what he was making her do. “I…I can’t…” she gasped as his fingers drifted across her spread cheeks. “Ohmygodohmygod…Cos…please…please…you decide.” She could barely breathe out the words.

He turned her ass to face toward the bedrooms, her head bowed to the opening. He wormed his finger in tighter, using that hand to steady her. “Thirty. They will be satisfied with thirty.”

She gasped as the pain from the first slap reached her brain. “Thank you, Cos. Please spank me again.” The disgust at what she was saying, what she was willing to do, it stung more than the spanking itself. His slaps hurt, but they weren’t as hard as she’d felt before, the sensation from each cheek merging into a warm glow. Again, left and then right, each time she gasped, each time she cringed at hearing her voice begging him to give her more. “OHHH FUCCKKK!” His hand against her open lips made her cry out as much from surprise as the sensation. “FUCK Cos! That fucking OUCHHH! OUCHH! Okay okay okay, hold on,” she couldn’t catch her breath, his slaps moving back and forth from cheek to cheek. She remembered to thank him, but had lost count. The stinging on her lips added a sharpness to the sensations from her buns, her mind wandering, when would he slap her pussy ag…”OUUCHHH! FUCKKKK! Fuck fuck fuckfuck…COS!!” Two more against her open lips, his finger penetrating her rectum, holding her in place, her hands wrapped around her calves and ankles.

“Now that you’ve been initiated, they expect so much more of you. They’re not sure you’re up to their standards.” His fingers were covered in her juices. Humiliation and taunting. Time to turn it up a notch.

Her upper thighs were wet, her vag…no, your cunt…she corrected herself, her cunt flooding. She gasped at where he was taking her, the drip turning into a flow. “Okay…okay…” she gasped, tears clogging her nose. “Pomegranate.” She gave in, tapping out. She breathed through the stinging from his fingers and from his win. Her tears a mixture of anger, frustration and physical pain.

“Stand up, Em.” He spoke softly, his tone letting her know he was proud of her. She wants to earn your respect. She wants to be the best. “Hands on your head.” Keeping her impaled, feeling her clench against his buried finger, he brought his other hand up to her mouth. “Lick yourself clean, Em. You’ve earned the right to taste how wet you are.” Still the trainer, a prod here, a poke there.

Just like the movies! She could see herself, immobilized, stuck by a finger up her backside and two more into her mouth. She couldn’t tell what embarrassed her more: her submission or how wet it made her. She licked and sucked, backing off to his fingertip and then deep to his webbing, her musk giving way to his sweat and salt. Her nose was still running, her eyes still blurred from crying. She was a mess; the waterfall was right in front of her. She fought against going over; but the fragrance, the tendril, if she fought it too hard, the fragrance would push her over the edge.

He slipped his fingers from her mouth while he unscrewed his finger from her ass. “I’m going to go clean up and then we can figure out what to do in there.”

She shook her head again at how quickly he shifted, dropping her hands to the tops of her hips, her fingers gingerly brushing the pinkened skin of her behind. Staring at the open bookcase, she sniffled, riding the glow, confused at how she could want this, how Abby could want this. She couldn’t comprehend what it meant being his trainee, his servant cunt; it wasn’t real. It was just a fantasy! But now she wasn’t sure; the tendril rose lazily as she protested. The black hole of anxiety, just a pinprick but deep in her gut, would only grow if she didn’t stop thinking. She turned her attention away from her inner struggle, focusing on the here and now…

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