As the explosion rumbled on and on the lights flicked and then died for a moment, plunging us into a murky blackness that was washed away when the electricity snapped back on a second time and then cut out completely. I could feel the noise rattling my teeth, and as my heart pounded in my chest I sat upright and whipped my head around. “What the fuck was that?” I squeaked in fear as I clutched Brit in a crushing, fear-fueled hug.
“I don’t know!” Brit replied in a voice that sounded just as panicked as mine, and she clutched me just as tight. “Power’s out, something musta blown up!” she added. I heard her rustling as she picked something up off of the nightstand, and the quiet-ish clunk told me that she had tried to see if my alarm clock was still working. “Yeah, power’s out,” she declared.
“Oh, this is bad,” I remarked with only the tiniest bit of a whimper as I rolled to the edge of the mattress and groped in the darkness for the dirty panties I had peeled off just a few minutes earlier. “Something really bad’s happening.” My fingers glanced over something soft on the floor and I managed to discover by feel that I had found my tank top, and I slipped it over my head and tugged it down my body as I hopped off the bed and returned to my search, my instincts telling me that I so did not want to be half-naked right then! “Where the fuck are they,” I muttered in annoyance.
There was another rustle as Brit joined me on the floor, and after a few soft pads across the carpet she pulled back an edge of the curtain and allowed a tiny shaft of sullen glower barely brightened the room. “I don’t see…” she began. There was another sharp, heavy explosion from outside, and then another that sounded like it was literally right outside and cracked the window, and my girlfriend cried out as she staggered back and dusty plastery-type stuff rained down on the pair of us from the ceiling. “Fuck!” she blurted as she stumbled and fell backwards onto the floor with a heavy THUD!
“Are you okay?” I quickly asked as I grabbed her hand and pulled her up.
“Uh huh,” she nodded, and then flashed me a wicked grin that I could barely see in the gloom. “Maybe later you can kiss it and make it feel better,” she added saucily… but I could hear the tiny kernel of fear quavering behind her words. She squirmed a bit as she rubbed her bruised butt, and then as I spotted and quickly hopped into my somewhat sticky panties she didn’t even hesitate as she scooped up and slipped her oversized tee back over her body. “Something’s happening downtown, something bad. I could see flashes coming from the back of the house.”
“Oh Christ, what now?” I moaned. I managed to find her hand with mine, and her shaky squeeze told me that she was just as scared as I was. I opened my mouth to say more only to squeak in shock as a fourth explosion, this one a bit more distant, sent another shower of dust down upon us.
“Jesus, someone’s blowing the hell out of something,” she remarked as a fifth explosion wiped all the humor from her voice and she stepped closer, not quite pressing against me but almost.
In the darkness I could feel her eyes on me, and I swallowed heavily. “Porch?” I suggested in a trembling voice.
“Porch,” she agreed. The pair of us dashed down the hallway and into the living room. The latch on the glass door made a surprisingly loud CLACK! as I flicked it open, and we pounded to the railing to try to see what was happening…
In hindsight it was both the worst and the best thing that we could have done. A hot wind that reeked of burning chemicals blasted up the hill and washed over the house, and from the door I could see the tips of flames flickering like candles. As I reached the rail my eyes flicked over the nightmarish scene before me – all of downtown Los Angeles seemed to be on fire, the buildings seemingly ablaze with bright, brilliant flames that reached into the sky above. Half the skyscrapers of the city were burning, the inferno so intense that I could feel the waves of heat on my face even miles from the conflagration, and the scene was just so horrifically surreal that all I could do was stare dumbfounded at the scene playing out before me. There was a quick darting streak of something moving fast coming from the direction of the Pacific, and three floors of the Bank of America Center exploded as it hit and blew out one side of the building in a brilliant flash that was followed a half-second later by a titanic BOOM! that just seemed to hit me like a fist. The air burned my lungs as much from the heat as from the acid-like quality but even so I felt cold as a tight knot of something twisted in my chest.
“Holy fuck,” Brit whispered beside me. I glanced over and saw that her face was bone-white and her blue eyes were as wide as saucers, a look of terror filling her orbs as she gripped the railing so tight that I thought she was going to break the wood with her tiny hands. “Oh my God, oh fuck…”
“Jesus, look!” I grabbed her arm and pointed down to what I had spotted. About halfway between us and downtown the military had set up some sort of choke point on Sunset, a base-thing that consisted of several jeeps, a tank, and what looked like fifty billion sandbags. I could barely make out the ant-sized figures as they ran back and forth between the blobby walls and the vehicles, and as we watched we saw flashes of light and heard the stutter of several machine guns. “What are they shooting at, can you see?” I asked breathlessly.
“No, I can’t!” The blonde half-leaned away from me and then skittered a couple of feet to her right, almost as if she could see around the edges of the blocking buildings and down the road just by moving over a few inches. “They’re shooting at something, probably those psycho rapist things!” she added as a couple more machine guns started blasting away and the gunfire was punctuated by the much more throaty WHOMP! of the tank firing.
There was another flash across the sky and another explosion, and another fireball blossomed from the Center and then a second as several floors of Two Executive vanished into flames. Down on Sunset the tank fired again as tiny figures in tan uniforms kept up their steady stream of shooting down the road at whatever they were shooting at. The roaring of the gunfire echoed in my ears, every explosion seemed to slap against my body, everything was just so overwhelming, and I felt myself start to hyperventilate as my heart raced. I let my legs sag and sank to the deck, pressing my palms against my ears in a vain attempt to drown out the holocaust slapping against my six-year-old body as my pulse roared in my head and tiny little spots danced before my eyes as I thought I was going insane…
Thankfully Brit was there to bring me back to reality. I almost jumped when I felt her hand fall to my shoulder and give me a little shake, but the physical contact helped me to focus my sanity back to the real world. I glanced up at her with wide, wild eyes and saw her hopping excitedly as she pointed downhill and shouted, and somehow I managed to force my hands from my ears and dragged myself up on weak, wobbly knees to stand at the railing once more. “Look!” she almost squealed excitedly. “Look, look, look! I see someone!”
“Who?” Her excitement was a bit infectious, and I felt my pulse quicken as I followed her pointing finger. Perched on the side of the hill as it was the deck gave a perfect panoramic view of the city below, but even though I lived in one of the largest cities in the world I always tended to forget that development was literally right below my house. Down the hill were a series of buildings, a few multi-story apartment affairs interspersed among some other buildings that did… other things. (Honestly I never cared enough to find out, given my immature, self-centered focus on my life and my dramas.) Almost immediately below us was a dark and rather shabby-looking building – and on the patio of a third floor apartment was another girl! When she saw that I was looking at her she jumped up and down and waved her arms excitedly, making sure that I got her attention. “Holy fuck,” I whispered, “she’s alive!”
“I know!” Brit’s smile was almost beaming with joy as she too jumped and waved.
We both flinched as another explosion rocked downtown as another flashing something slammed into another skyscraper, and then refocused our attention back on the girl. Like us she was short and young-looking, but unlike my brassy red tangle or Brit’s warm blonde mane her hair was a silky jet-black, hanging loose around her shoulders and cascading like a waterfall over the somewhat dingy-looking white blouse that hung to her knees. Her skin was either really tanned or she was Hispanic – at our distance I just couldn’t tell – and when she moved there almost seemed to be a spindly quality to her arms and legs, like she was a newborn colt just learning to stand. She jumped up and down again, waving her arms and pointing first to her left and then her right as she shouted. “I can’t tell what she’s saying,” I remarked as I waved again, and then flinched as the tank distantly boomed once more.
“Me neither.” Brit planted one palm on the railing, leaned way over (which I couldn’t help but noticed pulled the back of her oversized tee up her bare legs to a dangerous level) and waved her other arm furiously. “Hey!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Hey!!!”
I opened my mouth to yell as well… only to inhale a thick morass of caustic smoke that instantly sent me into a coughing jag. “Quiet!” I managed to wheeze out. “We don’t wanna attract any of those things!”
“I think there’s something noisier to attract their attention,” she snipped as she fixed me with a derisive look as she waved her arm at the combat scene beyond.
She was right. As I watched through watery eyes a nude teenage boy raced out of the shattered glass door of a ground-level apartment two floors below the girl and dashed around the side of the building, racing in the general direction of the melee half a mile away, and I caught a glimpse of another two on the street beyond as they flashed between the buildings. I turned my attention back to the girl on the balcony just in time to see her turning back from the open door behind her, and within seconds another joined her outside. This new one was just as short as all of us, a somewhat skinny black girl with frizzy black hair that seemed to go everywhere at once and… a make-shift tunic that consisted of an oversized dressing gown wadded up around her waist and held in place by a belt? Strange… The Hispanic girl was talking excitedly as she waved her hands in our general direction while the black girl merely stared at us with an almost neutral look on her face, and for some reason that I couldn’t put my finger on her calm demeanor made me feel a bit steadier. “I hope they’re somewhere secure,” I muttered as I felt the black girl’s gaze on my body, and I couldn’t help but blush and glance away.
“It’s probably a lot smaller than this place,” Brit remarked. “Those are what, tiny one and two bedroom apartments?”
“I dunno,” I replied as I forced my gaze back to the pair on the porch. “Probably.” I squinted as I peered at the them, looking beyond the duo and into the darkened apartment behind them. There was a tiny little movement of a third girl hiding inside, and the only reason I could see her was because she was white and wearing a fluttery white gown. I could feel her staring at me and I tried – but failed – to make out any details, and then she sank back into the shadows and was gone. “Fuck, there’s a third one in there,” I noted. “They gotta be stacked on top of each other.”
I opened my mouth to say more… and immediately snapped my jaw shut as the sound of gunshots from the battle intensified. As I watched the tiny army figures at the sandbags shot their guns, the pinprick flashes seeming to almost strobe like disco lights – and then suddenly this massive wave of horror crashed over them! The figures were human and naked so much bigger than the soldiers in their uniforms and it looked like there were hundreds, and I felt sick as I watched them charge the defenses and leap over their falling friends as they crashed over the make-shift fortification like a tsunami. The shooting instantly stopped and for a split-second I could hear tiny, distant female screams of agony, screams that were drowned out almost immediately as the dull BOM-BOM-BOM of the machine gun on the tank started to fire. With a jerk the vehicle lurched into gear and rolled forward, psycho rapists clinging to the outside as it simply drove over the bodies in front of it, punched through the sandbags, and growled down the road and out of sight. I heard the big gun WHOMP! again and then there was nothing but the mass of creatures roiling in the intersection, and despite the heat I felt chilled as I realized that they were eating what remained of the soldiers, falling on the tiny figures and tearing into their flesh…
“Oh, fuck,” Brit whispered as she pressed her tiny body against mine and clung to my arm. It was a testimony to just how sick I felt that, in that moment, I felt absolutely no arousal from her touch. “Oh fuck, oh…” She hiccuped once, and then leaned over the railing and vomited the remains of our snack into the scrub below the porch. I just couldn’t watch, and instead tore my eyes from the scene and looked at something, anything else as I fought to keep my snack down as well.
Below us the black girl and her Hispanic companion held up what looked like a framed picture. They had scrawled a simple message on the back in black ink…
WHAT’S HAPPENING???
Another night had passed, and another day had dawned with both the blonde former porn star and myself still trapped in our little-girl bodies. The rocket fire from the ocean had ended sometime around six, and as the light faded the entire city seemed to lapse into something like a sullen coma. The flickering flames of the skyscrapers downtown cast their murky glow throughout the L.A. Basin, providing enough light to see everything clearly but at the same time making the shadows move, a development that did absolutely nothing to calm my frayed nerves. Every so often there were gunshots in the distance, heavy cracks that crashed and rolled and stuttered and let us know that someone somewhere was fighting to survive. Brit and I could only spend about fifteen minutes exchanging information with our neighbors down the hill before the wind grew heavier and the acrid smoke of the burning city enveloped us, driving us back into the house and they back into their apartment.
And that left… Well, in truth Brit and I weren’t quite sure what we should do. I put together a tiny meal of salami and crackers from our stockpile in the kitchen, using the excuse of preparation to distract me from my nightmarish new life while Brit got changed into clean clothes and double-checked the locks on everything while I lit every candle that I owned. We ate in the living room, and then I pulled on a pair of clean panties and some jeans – and then we waited in the dim light of flickering flames, too scared to do anything and too terrified to say a word.
That might explain why we got drunk. We killed a bottle of wine with our meager meal, and then a second as the minutes ticked by, and by the time eight o’clock rolled around we were both pretty hammered. I don’t think it was a conscious decision on our part but instead something that we both instinctively did in order to screw up our courage for what we knew we would have to do later that evening. And it worked… As I finished off the last dregs of my glass and sat back Brit leaned over and kissed me, a deep, passionate kiss that tasted of wine with a hint of salami-spice, and after I stiffened for a split-second I relaxed into it and returned the kiss. Without a word she smiled, stood, and took my hand, and we both staggered off to the bedroom to satisfy our growing urges.
Our lovemaking was warm and tender, the sharing of kisses as we stripped each other down and stroked each other’s bodies, slipping our stiff fingers into the other’s pussy and satisfying the sexual need coursing through our pre-teen bodies. But I think we both held ourselves back, stopped ourselves from doing what we both truly wanted to do. I don’t know what my blonde lover wanted but I could tell from her occasional hesitation that there was something. As for me I craved more, I wanted it rougher, I wanted it harder! Brit’s two fingers inside my cunny was good but I wanted three, four, her entire fist, I wanted her to make me eat her out, I wanted her to slap me and twist my nipples and make me do the sick things that floated up from the sewer of my imagination. But I couldn’t, it was just too embarrassing, and I forced myself to settle for the just fine when I wanted the raw.
Our mutual masturbation session did the trick though, and we both managed to fall into a fitful sleep that did nothing to help either our situation or our health. I awoke the next morning with a blinding hangover that was tempered down to a dull ache once the baby aspirin I swallowed finally kicked in, and I just… couldn’t… look at Brit, couldn’t meet her eyes because I knew that she knew that there was something wrong with us, something wrong with me, and I used the excuse of wanting a shower to flee into the bathroom and lock the door and hide…
And of course satisfy my urges. Before I knew I was even going to do it I was naked, sitting on the throw rug over the hard tile with my legs spread wide, hunched over and grunting like an animal as I worried my tiny little hooded clit with two fingertips. “More,” I growled as I flashed my fingers down, dipped them inside my slick pussy, and then returned them back to my clit. The steamy air in the dim bathroom felt warm against my bare skin, sent a sort-of ease throughout my body that was a wonderful counterpoint to the growing tension in my tummy. “More, more…”
Fortunately I had planned ahead, even if my planning was subconscious. A rolled-up towel would serve as a pillow for my head, and I had stashed one of the toys Brit had retrieved from next door in the bottom drawer of the counter because, deep down, I think I knew that it would help to satisfy my cravings. It was a foot long, black, and wonderfully thick, easily as big around as my tiny little-girl wrist, and as I was hiding it I had a fantasy of it sliding into me, tearing open my pre-teen slit and spearing deep into my six-year-old body, and I just knew it was going to hurt but it would fill me up so completely! It felt heavy in my hands as I rolled onto my back and curled my abs until my flat backside was raised to the ceiling, and beads of sweat popped into life on my forehead as I grunted and pushed and pressed and forced it into my wet, shrieking pussy, and when I felt my inner hole surrender and the thing slide half its length inside of me I whimpered in pained/pleasure. The fit was so tight that I could barely move the thing, and the best I could do was to hook the back of my knees to my elbows as I gripped the base with both hands and wriggled it slightly, but that little sensation combined with the sight of it stretching out my cunt was enough and before I knew it I was semi-cumming, lost in the throes of sheer physical pleasure as my cunny clamped down around the thing lodged inside me and I fought to push myself even higher.
“Oh fuck,” I repeated, the curse becoming a mantra in my soul as I shivered with pleasure. My little-girl voice, a high-pitched soprano bordering on falsetto, made the word sound extra-nasty in my own ears. “Fuck, I love to fuck, I’m just a fuck,” I moaned softly as I wriggled the base again and my pussy twitched. It was good, the dildo was filling me up just fine… but I knew I could do more, that there was a dark, twisted thing inside that craved so much more! “I’m a fucking disgusting pervert,” I whispered, the truth sending a little thrill up my spine and a flash of a tiny smile across my lips. It was true, I somehow knew it. It had taken my transformation into a six-year-old and three days of terror to finally admit it, but there it was – for far too long I had denied myself what I really wanted, and what I wanted was…
As I pulled the shampoo bottle out of me a tiny dribble of girly-cum flowing out of my cunt, a gooey, stringy stream that oozed over my throbbing clit and down onto my chin, and almost instinctively I flicked my tongue out to take a taste. I tasted salty and musky and sour all at the same time and I moaned as I lapped at the stuff, savoring the taste as swallowed and wanting more, wanting to taste more, wanting to do more, and as I tugged the bottle out fully a large gob of the stuff oozed out of my slowly closing cunny and dangled down and I took it on my tongue and slurped it up and felt the spatter of the stringy stickiness splat against my chin and throat and I could taste it again, taste more of me…
The idea was so disgusting, so revolting that the prim and proper part of my conscious adult mind instantly rebelled – but the hunger, the need, the sheer animal lust coursing through my veins wouldn’t be denied. The savory taste of my pussy that I had sampled yesterday made my mouth water, and as I gave the dildo another tiny little wriggle it became all I could think about! Do it, I urged myself as I lifted my hips a bit more and stared past the hairless expanse of my mound and at the tip of my tiny little-girl slit. Just do it! It’ll be so good… I tugged the dildo out the barest fraction of an inch and saw just how me-slicked the surface was… and that made up my mind.
I spent a half-second trying to figure out the logistics but it actually wasn’t as bad as I thought, and with a little bit of wriggling I managed to scoot my butt over so that I was half-curled against the counter, the cool veneered wood easily supporting my backside as I scooched my shoulders down and resettled the rolled towel behind my head. In that position I could actually let my body relax, and as I curled my knees easily came down to dangle on either side of my head while my toes helped me keep my balance. I could feel how wide my eyes were as I stared up at my cunny, marveling at just how stretched my hairless pre-teen slit actually was around the fake cock, and it was only about an inch or two above my face, just right there,so closethat I believed in that second I could actually lick myself if I strained a bit more…
My skin felt flushed and my heart pounded in my chest as I took a firm grip on the base of the dildo and began to slowly, gingerly dislodge it from my pussy. I was wet, so wet, and I couldn’t help but moan a bit as every fraction of an inch that I pulled out the toy sent tiny little drips of me-juice pattering against my lips. I didn’t even hesitate as my tongue flicked out and lapped at the stuff, giving a little shiver as the hint of my musky taste filled my mouth. Oh God oh God so good oh God… I could smell me, smell my six-year-old body, smell my pussy, and it just made me even more determined and more twisted and more willing to do anything just to get another taste!
I gasped as the dildo popped out of me and flicked my tongue to catch the driplets that accompanied its exit, and fought a shiver as more of me filled my mouth. I was almost operating on pure instinct as I carelessly dropped the toy onto the rug next to me (where I distantly noted that it landed with a rather heavy THUNK!) even as I quickly jabbed to stiff fingers into my cunt to keep it open. In the dim light of the bathroom I swore that I could see inside of me, see the twisted little whorls of my inner hole, and I was enthralled at how soft and silky and wet and pink my sex looked! Do it do it doitdoitdoit, the words were a distant chant in my mind as I stroked my rock-hard clit with my fingertips and moaned aloud as I felt the lightning bolts of pleasure shoot through my body. It was so wicked, so dirty, so utterly twisted that I could barely think straight, and I loved it, loved stroking my clit, loved running a fingertip around the inside edge of my spread slit, loved running two fingers along my slick inner pink and lapping the warm oily stuff off as I tried to roll over more, to drop my knees to the carpet so I could look even closer. I had to do it, I had to do it, whatever was deep and dark down inside of me insisted, and I shoved two fingers inside my spread-open cunny and pumped in and out, in and out…
I don’t know when exactly it happened, but I surrendered myself fully to the twisted, perverted thing inside of me. It was obsessed with the taste of me, obsessed with the idea of the taste of me, it wanted needed had to taste my own pussy! I pumped my twinned fingers into me onetwothreefourfivesix and yanked them out, reveling in the spatter of pussy juice on my cheeks and chin as I crammed my fingers in my mouth and licked them clean, onetwothreefourfive and spatter and lick, onetwothreefour, onetwothree, onetwo and one and out and one and out and scoop up my sopping oils and feast on them it was so sick and so wrong but I just couldn’t stop, I needed more, more, more! It was so frustrating, I couldn’t get my head up, just couldn’t reach my tiny hooded clit with my tongue, I wanted so much to just drink directly from the source but I just couldn’t reach it, and I heard this distant grunting like an animal rooting for something and realized that it was me…
It happened so suddenly that I wasn’t ready for it. Two of my tiny fingers were holding my slit open while I worried my clit with my thumb, while I was shoving two fingers of my other hand inside to draw out the delicious shower of girly-juice. The stuff was dripping everywhere, past my wrist and down my forearm, down over my completely hairless mound and flowing over my tummy, onto my chin and lips and cheeks and neck and it was sticky and gross but so incredible! My pinky slipped up between my spread ass cheeks and glanced against my tight little asshole – and without hesitation I pushed it in, pushing past the tight pucker and ramming it in, and that did it. Deep inside my body my pussy spasmed, and I actually convulsed in increasingly harder jerks as I came. My eyes rolled into the back of my skull but I could feel my cunt spit a thick, gooey glob of me-cum right onto my face that was followed by a wet dribbling flow that I eagerly lapped up as it coated my lips, whimpering as I tasted myself and loving every second of it even as I hated what I was doing, and then my cunt spat again and I caught it on my tongue and didn’t hesitate and swallowed as I pulled myself open as far as possible and let my own girly-cum rain down on my face.
I don’t know how long I lay there reveling in my own depravity… but after more than a few minutes I began to come down off my self-abuse high and started to think like a mature woman with self-restraint once more. I felt disgusting and ashamed and sickened by what I had done to myself, but another part of me – a strange, almost alien part that I barely recognized as my own long-repressed self – was defiant. Nobody knows what you did, and that was the hardest orgasm you ever had! I reasoned as I slowly, lovingly stroked my own hyper-sensitive, quivering slit, my breaths coming in ragged gasps and my heart pounding like a rave baseline in my chest. Nobody HAS to know! Just don’t tell, and you can do this again…
And a part of me admitted that I did want to do it again, sometime! I was a mess – everything between my gently stroking thumb to my stiff nipples was sticky with my own pussy juice, my body was slick with sweat, and my abs ached as if I had just done a million sit-ups – but at the same time I was satisfied, happy, almost enthralled by what I had done! I gasped softly as I slid my twinned fingers back into my pussy and pulled them back out, marveling at the pearly, sticky Leila-stuff coating my digits. It’s slick, I mused idly as I rubbed it between my thumb and forefinger… and then without hesitation I ran my tongue through it, tasting the musky sourness of me.
I could have stayed like that for hours, but I knew that I couldn’t – especially if I didn’t want Brit to know what I’d been doing! With a groan of effort (or possibly disappointment) I rolled onto my side, managed to stand on wobbly legs, and staggered into the shower to hide the evidence. As long as she doesn’t know she won’t judge, I reasoned as I felt the cascade of warm water wash over me. Besides, she’s probably doing nasty stuff too!
As I ran the soap over my naked, little-girl body and thought of my blonde houseguest, I did start to wonder if I could make her cum so hard that she would squirt just like me, and how our girly-juices would taste if they were blended together…
The rest of the day – the third (or was it the fourth? Honestly I was beginning to lose track) day of our nightmare – passed in a sort-of surreal way. We checked the conditions outside several times during the day, braving the smoky, caustic air in an attempt to try and find out what was happening. Downtown the skyscrapers burned merrily, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the dark cityscape laid waste before our eyes. There were no more flashes and explosions coming from the ocean and we couldn’t hear any more fighting, but we weren’t sure if that was because the military had moved on to another position or if they had simply all died. The remains of the defensive position down on Sunset was silent and still, but the strange dark-colored lumps laying motionless on the street told us that we so didn’t want to know what things were really like over there. The sun was blotted out by a solid sheet of roiling black smoke that cast everything into a dark, ominous gloom and made me want to simply crawl somewhere and hide.
Inside my house things were only slightly better. At about nine in the morning there was a little pop and the power came back on for a split-second before it cut back out, and then stayed off permanently. The water pressure was still up and running so Brit and I scrambled to fill every single container we could find, from empty bottles that I had intended for the recycling just days earlier to a couple of shot glasses I had stashed in a cupboard. It wasn’t much… I was glad that I had charged my cell phone before the blackout, and even though I couldn’t get any bars it did make me feel a bit comfortable to know that it was ready to go, just in case. We had clean clothes that fit us, food in the fridge that would keep for a few days if we kept the door closed, and nice, thick walls between us and the nightmares outside – so there was that.
We did manage to trade some information with the trio down the hill using some marking pens and the backs of a few framed posters and pictures that we pulled off the walls. The black girl was named Mikayla and she was stuck in a tiny one-bedroom apartment with a nurse named Lourdes and her former patient named Amy, and the three were quickly running out of food and desperate to know what was happening on the other side of their building. Mikayla had a police radio which she had been using to monitor things, and she let us know that the massive fight yesterday had been the military’s attempt to retake the city from the rampaging horde of cannibal rapists. SHIPS OFF COAST, she had scrawled. GOVT BASING OPS OFF. TALK EVACUATION.
“Damn,” Brit cursed. She coughed as she breathed in a lungfull of sooty smoke and spat over the side. “What sort of plan is it to blow the shit out of buildings?”
“I dunno,” I replied distractedly as I quickly scrawled my reply. EPIC FAIL, she could read when I hoisted the movie poster of a failed rom-com I had done in which I was the wacky best friend – and which had been a box office failure. ARMY KILLED EATEN. EVERYTHING ON FIRE. “Whoever’s in charge must think that it was a solid plan,” I added out of the corner of my mouth.
“Hey, you notice that every boy we’ve seen is a monster?” she suddenly asked. “Why is that?”
“Dunno,” I repeated – but now I too was curious. I quickly scrawled another message for Mikayla and hoisted it above my head. ALL BOYS KILLING RAPING EATING GIRLS? “Maybe she heard something on the radio.”
We both waited while the black girl quickly scrawled out her message and held it aloft. MOST BOYS YES – RUMOR VOICE SAID ONLY HANDFUL STILL NORMAL. DON’T KNOW.
“Okay, there’s that. New rule,” Brit declared. “If a boy tries to bite you and stick his dick in then he’s bad, but if he buys you dinner first and then sticks his dick in he’s good.”
“But that pretty much means you have to put out, if he does that,” I replied with a crooked grin.
“Fuck, with everything that’s been going down I’d be willing to do butt-stuff if it’ll get me a free meal!” she shot back with a wicked grin of her own.
Her admission was troubling enough coming from a girl who looked like she was only six years old, and I felt a momentary stab of social guilt at the idea of a little girl doing anal for food. But my own feelings were far more scary, and I kept my grin plastered on my face but turned back to peer downhill as my mind flashed back to the rolling, explosive orgasm I’d given myself that morning while my cheeks burned in hidden shame. Butt-stuff indeed, I mused, the memory of just how nasty and good the sensation of my own finger pushing into my tight little asshole actually felt – and how I just might be willing to whore out my six-year-old body for a good meal.
For the rest of the day things were definitely weird between Brit and myself. Oh, it wasn’t anything that either of us actually did, but rather I think that we were both trying to deal with our own particular perversions. Everything that caught my eye instantly had me considering just how it would feel if I pushed it into my tiny little pussy, from the handle of a hairbrush to a bottle of olive oil that was way too big to even consider using to even the square-ish television remote, and before I knew it I would be feeling horny. I wished that I had the time and privacy to repeat my bathroom-floor-curl-and-spray session from the morning but I knew that Brit would catch me, so I would use the excuse of a ‘bathroom break’ and take a couple of minutes to pull down my jeans and panties and stroke my throbbing clit until I came. (It might be a bit sick, but I am a little proud that I quickly learned to cup my other hand between my thighs to catch the stuff that spat out of my pussy for a little snack.) As for Brit herself I knew she too was struggling with something – more than once I caught her staring at me with wide blue eyes and a flush on her cheeks, at which point it was time for her ‘bathroom break’ and she would skitter on back to the bedroom to satisfy whatever her kink happened to be It was unspoken between us that we knew we could satisfy our urges with each other, but I was scared that she would discover what I truly was and so I… just… couldn’t. And I think she was scared about the twisted little thing in her soul. I don’t how she actually felt or what her perversion actually was, but I personally hoped that my dirty little secret would never get out.
Of course, given our close quarters, that was a wish that could never come true.
WHERE BRIT? Mikayla’s sign read as she held it aloft.
It was somewhat late in the afternoon, although given the ceiling of smoke above our heads it might be any time and we wouldn’t be able to tell. Brit was back in the bedroom engaging in a ‘bathroom break,’ and I have to admit that a part of me wished she would hurry the fuck up – it had been a few hours since my last ‘bathroom break’ and I could feel the urge to be a little bit dirty growing inside of me. The memory of the taste of my own pussy was so wickedly appealing that it warred with the fear that my little blonde roommate would catch me doing it, and when the latter won I desperately sought a distraction from my enticing perversion. Fortunately the girls down the hill provided such a distraction so I braved the smoky air and attempted to hold a conversation, and for the past half-hour I had been trading short messages with the Mikayla. So far I had learned that she was a L.A.P.D. corporal who used to work in communications before our nightmare began and she’d been kicked out on the street to be a real cop. Like me she was scared shitless, and also like me she was hiding out on the porch of the apartment while Lourdes and Amy were ‘busy’ inside. I couldn’t make out too many details from a distance but she appeared to be about as young as I was, had a complexion that was like coffee with just a dash of cream, and had long frizzy hair that she had pulled back into a serviceable bun on the back of her head. For some reason I thought she was cute – it was nothing on which I had to go, just a general gut feeling that might have been fueled as much by my seemingly perpetual horniness as anything else.
We had spent a few minutes commiserating about our hair and how we just couldn’t seem to do a thing with it, and another few minutes commiserating about how our changes had made our old wardrobes totally obsolete (and how she no longer had a thing to wear), before we got down to the details of our involuntary imprisonment. After becoming transformed into a little girl she had been assigned to a veteran detective and put on the street – something that she had literally zero experience handling, even before the nightmare started – and tasked with trying to restore order. That had failed miserably when they responded to a call and had been attacked by a trio of cannibal rapists, and she had been forced to run when the detective was promptly killed. She’d taken refuge in the nearest apartment building but that too had monsters in the hallways, and she had almost given up hope when she tripped over Lourdes in the third-floor hall and had found refuge with the nurse and Amy in the latter’s apartment. At least, that’s what I think her story was… because of our lack of resources and because cell service was still out we could only communicate by scrawling short, acronym-laden messages to each other on the back of posters, paintings, anything that could be used to write a note.
But with her single two-word question I knew that our conversation was turning to a subject around which we were both trying to skirt but which I think we both knew we would have to address, if only for peace of mind. I gave a little sigh and struggled to tamp down a sudden twisting horniness in my pussy as I looked at the pictures and posters stacked beside me. Brit and I had stripped anything even remotely usable from my walls (which were now disturbingly bare) and staged them on the porch, and the six remaining frames seemed to hint that maybe I should save them for an emergency. But the lure of contact was just too great and I uncapped the black marker and quickly scribbled a reply on the seventh, an almost filled picture of a neutral sailboat that I had purchased back when I thought I might actually do something with my spare room but which had languished in a closet for years. IN BEDROOM URGES, I wrote. I paused for a second and chewed on my lip as I debated. MY TURN NEXT FEELING HORNY, I added. A quick nod and up the frame went.
Mikayla squinted as she peered up at me, and then she nodded. Another quick scribble and it was her turn. LUCKY U GOT ROOM CAUGHT L & A DOING THINGS.
Doing things? I wondered. I flashed back to the time Brit and I used our fingers on each other and blushed as I fought another horny urge. U NOT WANNA JOIN? I asked.
DID WANNA, she wrote back. She paused for a second and then scribbled a bit more. L COOL A BITCHY. END UP FIGHT.
Her message was a bit confusing and it took me a few seconds to work through the statement in my head. Ah, she thinks Lourdes is nice while Amy’s a cunt, I realized. And if she joined in then there’d be a fight. I wonder why? SO DO SELF OR DO L? I asked.
Mikayla hesitated for only a second before replying. YES NOT GAY BUT DID L.
For some reason the knowledge that she too was struggling with her desires made me feel a bit better. NOT GAY DID BRIT MOUTH STUFF.
She scribbled for a moment in reply, paused, and added more. TONGUE STUFF L INTO SICK BUT HOT.
The idea of the tiny black girl kneeling between my legs and using her tongue on me caused my lust to spike, and I whimpered as I fought the urge to rub my throbbing clit through my jeans. Somehow my self control managed to win out, and I scribbled back. NOTHING MORE. WANT SICK STUFF 2!
WHAT STOP U?
Yeah, I pondered, what’s stopping me? I don’t know why but I trusted her, trusted that she wouldn’t actually judge me, and I believed in that moment that I could confess my twisted sins to her. SCARED, I wrote. WANT REAL SICK STUFF! Eating my own pussy stuff is sick, I admitted as I held my message above my head.
This admission caused Mikayla to hesitate, and for a second I was afraid that my admission had scared her off… but fortunately she gave herself a little shake and grabbed one of her frames that I knew was almost completely full. I watched as she scratched out several old messages, thought for a second, and scrawled a new one. ME 2 WANT TIE UP FORCE GIRL, she admitted. MAKE SEX SLAVE! SICK. She held up the note for a few minutes as I read, and once she was sure I had gotten the message she glanced over her shoulder and then flung the frame off the porch and to the side in what I assumed was an attempt to hide her revelation from her companions.
“Oh my God!” I couldn’t help but whisper as I internalized Mikayla’s words. The fact that she trusted me enough with her secret made me feel… well I honestly didn’t know how I felt. My imagination kicked into overdrive and for a moment I fantasized about being tied up, pushed down onto my knees and helpless as the black girl grabbed a handful of my curly red hair and forced my face between her legs. I’d do it, I admitted to myself, surprised that I would actually consider such a thing. The crotch of my panties felt like a swamp, and my nipples were so stiff that they poked through the thin fabric of my snug tee, and if it weren’t for the dangers outside I honestly believed I would have dashed down the hill and offered myself to her without hesitation! With trembling fingers I uncapped my pen and scrawled a response at the bottom of my picture. HOT I LET U, I wrote, and then added LOVE TASTE PUSSY! NOT GAY EAT U. I do, and I will, I acknowledged as I hoisted my note, my mouth dry and my arms trembling almost as much as my legs, and when I was sure she got the message I too flung the frame off the porch and into the scrub below.
She stared at me, and I stared at her… and then she replied. HORNY WANT U NOW!!!
Oh GOD… In that second I knew that if she asked I would jump off the porch and tumble downhill, race into her arms and let her do whatever she wanted, no matter what! WANT U 2! I replied, and I knew it to be completely true – the idea of her tying me up and putting her hands wherever she wanted, the thought of being forced to lap her tiny little-girl slit made me so wet I was convinced that it looked like I had pissed my pants. NEED U FORCE ME, I added…
… But we couldn’t. Even at that distance I could see her frustration plainly, a teeth-grinding want that was impossible to fill right then that I’m sure was just as great as my own. SOON SOMEHOW, she wrote back.
SOON! I replied. I hesitated, and then wrote three more words – but before I held the frame aloft I put the picture down, grasped the hem of my pink tee, and stripped my top from my body. Even though I was so warm I was perspiring, my nipples felt hard enough to cut glass, and then I stepped forward and hoisted my message. GIFT FOR U, I let her know as I gave her a perfect view of everything from my waist on up. I could tell that she was drinking in my body, feel her gaze raking up and down my pale skin and so-stiff-they-hurt pink nipples, and as I lowered the frame to the porch I prayed that she would find me pretty. You don’t even know her! my brain argued but in that moment I didn’t care… if she asked I honestly believed I would run down the hill and into her arms just for a chance of being with her! Please, God, I’ll give anything, just tell me what to do!
I needn’t have worried. I saw a flash and realized that she had just licked her lips, and then she whipped her head to the porch to her right. I saw her bend over and then she picked up her frame and scratched out a quick message. YOU WILL EAT SOON! she let me know and then she stood on something, boosting herself up so that her knees were at the same level as the railing. With fumbling fingers she untied the make-shift belt around her waist and then worked the dressing gown up and off of her head… and I heard myself issue a groaning whimper as I beheld her in all her naked glory. She had the body of a boy with no figure to speak of except for a slight widening of her hips, but she was perfect, completely and utterly perfect! Her nipples were two black dots on her otherwise flat chest, her mound was completely hairless and I could swear that I saw just the faintest hint of her clit between her legs, and the sight of her made me shiver in anticipation. She turned and gave me a eyeful of her butt, tiny and flat just like mine but carrying just a hint of roundness, and I imagined slipping my tongue between those cheeks, just dropping to my knees and following every single command she wished to give me…
And then she blushed, hopped down, and darted back inside the apartment.
My mind, my soul was a whirl of confusing emotions, ranging from fear to lust to obsession to desire to terror to everything, and I whimpered, whimpered with barely constrained need. My nipples were so hard that they hurt and my pussy was hot and sticky and wet, so unbelievably wet, and I could feel the flush to my pale skin as I stared at the closed door through which my black princess had fled. Do it, go to her! the animal part of my brain screamed. Kneel at her feet and let her do whatever she wants! Do it! It would be suicide, I’d break my legs if I jumped off my porch and those things would kill and rape and eat me, but at that second I wanted to do it, I was willing to risk it, I needed her to take me up and make me cum over and over and over again! I had no idea what was wrong with me, I was just standing there in the hot, smoky air, topless and panting slightly as I imagined Mikayla pinning me down and tying me up and tearing off my clothes and forcing me to do twisted things that just a week ago would have made me sick but in that moment I would give anything to experience…
I needed to cum. I needed to get off, right that instant. I needed to experience another girl. And there was only one option.
Leaving my top where I had dropped it I turned and slipped back into the living room, shutting the sliding door behind me as I moved. Everything had a dream-like quality as if I were sleepwalking, and I barely noticed the décor around me as I stepped into the dark hall and made my way to the bedroom. Eat pussy eat out Brit FUCK Brit let her do whatever she wants, my brain seemed to flit from fragmentary thought to fragmentary thought as I slid across the carpet, every swing of my legs making it feel as though my pussy squirted into my already soaked panties. Whatever she wants, she’ll make you cum, she’ll MAKE you cum and you’ll feel so good when you cum…
There was a dim flicker of orange light from the open door, and as I stepped into the entrance my eyes were greeted with the most succulent sight imaginable! Brit wasn’t finished with her self-love session, and indeed I had impeccable timing as I beheld her and my mouth watered. She was seated in a chair in front of my full-length mirror, totally nude and with her hair hanging loose around her shoulders. The little blonde had planted one heel on the edge of the seat and the other on top of my waist-high dresser, exposing her tiny little slit to the world – and especially herself as she gazed into her reflection. She had slipped one tiny hand down around her left thigh and was pulling herself open with her fingertips while she worried her clit with the other, her skin flushed and her eyes slitted as she panted softly, her breaths punctuated by tiny little moans of pleasure. Her six-year-old body was perfect, flawless, thin and lean and with tiny, spindly arms and legs and her nipples were tiny little pink nubs and oh-my-GOD I SO wanted her! I must have made a noise or something, because she stiffened in shock and sat up a bit in the chair, dropping her feet to the floor as she closed her thighs. “No,” I begged as I raised my hand, a bit ashamed how much of a whine my words contained. “Don’t, please don’t stop…”
“I…” The tiny blonde hesitated for a second, and in the flickering light of the dozen-plus candles she had lit I saw her swallow. Slowly she slipped back into position, leaning back against the chair and raising her heels once more. “I can’t help it,” she admitted in a stricken voice as she let her legs loll open and exposed herself to me. “I wanna watch, I want people to see me, I can’t help it…”
“It’s okay,” I replied softly. Almost as if I were in a daze I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down as I slid forward, working them off of my skinny legs as I moved until I was nude by the time I reached her. Everything felt fuzzy as if I were fast asleep and dreaming, but I knew that I was awake, and I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Make her cum, she deserves it, a tiny little voice that I recognized as my own seemed to say in my mind. You can’t do anything else, so make her cum! “I… I want to do this, I want to make you feel good.”
I could have been mistaken but I could swear that she blushed a little bit. “I’d… like that,” she whispered.
I dropped to my knees before her and gazed hungrily at her pussy. Even though we had eaten each other out yesterday this was the first time I had the opportunity to take a good, hard look at my roommate’s cunny, and Brit’s was… Well, it might have been the sheer lust coursing through my pre-teen body at that moment, but her pussy was quite simply the cutest, most adorable thing I had ever seen! There wasn’t even the vaguest hint of pube on her six-year-old body, her mound a smooth expanse of flesh from her belly button down to between her thighs. Her sex was just a tiny little slit, barely a dark line precisely between her thighs that was barely over an inch long, and there was a tiny little pink lump peeking out from the top. That’s her clit! I realized as I stared at the thing, mesmerized and wondering how something so tiny and hidden could make a girl feel so good. Each swing of the vibrator seemed to flick her nubbin, and the tiny little rolls of her hips made it seem as though her cunny was dancing before my eyes. Somehow I tore my gaze from her sex and glanced up her flat, undeveloped body, and saw that Brit was staring down at me through wide, glittering eyes, and I knew in that moment that I would do anything, anything she asked me to do! “C… can I eat your pussy?” I asked, begged, pleaded.
“Do it,” she replied in a breathy voice. “Eat me, eat my cunt!”
With a moan of desire I leaned forward and brought my lips to her bare mound, trailing a tiny little line of kisses from her belly button on downward as I slid my hands up between her thighs. Using my fingertips I gingerly spread her slit open and even though part of me wanted to simply gaze in wonderment at her glories the hungrier part of me didn’t hesitate as I nuzzled even lower. I could feel the heat of her pussy on my chin, smell her aroused little-girl cunt in my nostrils, and I could feel any remaining hint of resistance in my soul vanish as darted my tongue out. She gasped and twitched as I slid between her spread lips and lapped a single long lap from the base of slit up and over her clit, moaning as I tasted her. I kissed her clit and then lapped again, and again, and then I fastened my mouth around her sex and simply feasted on her pussy.
“Oh fuck!” Brit spat as she jerked beneath my lips. “Yes, do it! Do it!!!” She grasped the back of my head and pulled me tight, locking my face between her legs as she gave her hips a little roll of pleasure. “Do it, suck it! Suck my cunt!”
I barely heard her words as my entire world seemed to shrink to the delicious girl before me. She tasted musky and bitter, tasted just like she smelled, a far different taste than me but a flavor that I adored! I brought one thumb up to work her clit while I wormed tongue into her, stabbing deep and feeling the silky hot wetness of her cunt on my taste buds. Distantly I felt my own pussy drooling, a wet flow of Leila-juice flowing down my thighs and onto the carpet beneath my knees but I didn’t care, I just wanted to swallow everything she had to give. Her hand on the back of my head held me in place and I let myself go completely, rooting in her sex like a pig as I tried to guzzle her little-girl pussy juices.
“Fuck!” Brit’s sharp curse slapped my ears as her hips bucked, and her pelvis smacked into my nose as I fought to keep my tongue inside of her. Somehow I maintained my position with one arm wrapped around her thin thigh up near her hip, and as I blinked away the tiny tears that my stinging nose brought forth in my eyes I peered up her nude body. She was staring down at me through slitted eyes, her lips pulled back and her teeth bared as she fought to breath. “Fuck!” she spat again as she brought her other hand down and laced her fingers through my tangled hair, cupping the back of my head to keep my squirming tongue in place as she raised her hips slightly. “Fuck! Fuck! Do it! Eat me!” she begged, pled, ordered, commanded. “Eat me! Suck my cunt! Suck my cunt! Suck my cunt, you filthy fucking whore!”
Only a week ago her words would have offended me, but right then in that moment they felt right, they felt pure, they felt as though they were the universal truth. I was a filthy fucking whore, and I had to eat her out! I pulled her slit just a bit wider with my fingers as I wormed my tongue deeper, pushing past the tight whorl of her inner hole and tasting her heat in my mouth while I worried my clit with the fingertips of my other hand. Without hesitation I curled my digits and slid them inside of me, moaning as I managed to shove three of them at once into my sopping hole. Brit trembled and I could tell that she was close, and that knowledge combined with her musky little-girl scent pushed me to the edge as well, and my world shrank to the tiny little pussy pressed against my lips and the sharp stinging pain of my stretched slit and the taste and the smell and the feel and the words slapping against my ears…
I felt her tremble and stiffen, and then her hips bucked once twice three times as she came, her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream of pure ecstasy. Her pussy seemed to spasm around my tongue and then there was a wet flow of Brit-stuff that was nowhere near as heavy as my own spatter but was just enough, and I swallowed her juices as I held her tight and simply fed. I was so far gone that I didn’t even realize that I had pulled one of my hands away from my little blonde lover and shoved it between my legs, ramming three fingers inside of me and pumping furiously as I too teetered on the edge of what I instinctively knew would be a massive orgasm. So close, so fucking close…
I felt her fingers tighten as she laced her digits in my hair and, by accident, yanked. A brilliant pain blossomed in my scalp, and that was exactly what I needed. With a whining moan that I’m sure Brit could feel through her pussy I came, my tiny body tensing as my pussy gushed thick, sticky spurts of girly-cum all over my hand and down to the floor below. Yeesssss… I felt myself swimming on the edge of consciousness and was barely able to keep my senses as my orgasm ripped through my system, lost in the delicious, erotic combination of pleasure that felt painful and pain that was oh-so pleasurable, and in that instant I felt happy, complete, totally at ease with what I was being forced to do and what I was doing…
I don’t even remember it happening, but as Brit came down from her high she leaned forward and gently pushed me back, following me to the floor as I shuddered and mewled and whimpered and spasmed and spurted, and when I too finally began to come off my self-inflicted abuse I found that she was laying atop me, her nude body pressed against my own, her weight pinning me to the floor and trapping my wrists between our two bare mounds. “You fucking slut,” she panted, her eyes glittering with ecstasy. She darted her face down and fastened her lips to mine, issuing a long, low moan of sexual bliss into my mouth as I panted into hers, our tongues meeting somewhere in the middle as squirmed and tried to tease out my orgasm as long as possible. “This is what you wanted!”
“Yesss…” I gasped with a whimper. It was what I wanted, I realized it in that moment – I had been repressing myself for so long, fought for years to be tough and independent, that I had forgotten just how much I loved submitting to another human being! I loved her body weight on mine, I loved the echoes of the pain in my scalp, I loved how embarrassed and ashamed I felt in what I did… I loved it all! “I wanted it,” I acknowledged, giving voice to my truth, the truth that was at the core of my being.
“You love being a slut,” she whispered before darting in for another quick, flashing kiss.
“I do,” I agreed. “I want to be a slut, I need to be a slut, I deserve it…”
She half-slid off my body and slid one tiny hand up to my chest, giving my right nipple a tiny little flick for a second before pinching it between her thumb and forefinger and giving it a little twist. “Tell me what you want, tell me what you need,” she ordered as I hissed at the bright pain blossoming against my flat chest.
“I…” I had to admit it, I had no choice, whatever was inside of me just demanded the admission, and before I could stop myself I let my words flow free in a torrent. “I need you to make me do stuff,” I exclaimed, and I knew it was the truth. “I need you to tie me up and make me do it, make me do everything, anything, to do it all! I…” As she released my nipple I just surrendered to my perversion and screwed my eyes shut while I hoped she wouldn’t reject me. “I need you to pull my hair and slap me and make me eat your pussy, I need you to make me cum over and over again, I… I need you to tell me what to do, to rule me!” My words fell to a whisper as I flushed what I’m sure was a brilliant blush of shame. “I think I’ve always wanted it,” I added.
She was silent and for a moment I was terrified that I’d gone too far… but then I felt her shift and she kissed me, a deep, soulful kiss that seemed to go on forever. I whimpered in her mouth as I clutched her to me, and when I felt her break the kiss I opened my eyes and gazed into her deep blue orbs. “Well,” she remarked as a corner of her mouth quirked up, “you’re just a twisted little cunt, aren’t you?”
“Y… yes, I am,” I admitted as my soul thrilled.
“Say it!”
“I’m just a twisted little cunt,” I quickly said. I have no idea why but in that moment I trusted her completely, trusted her enough to surrender everything that was me to her. Somehow I just knew that she would give me what I wanted but wouldn’t be cruel, and I felt a blossom of – something, possibly love? – flare to life in my chest. “I’m just a cunt who deserves everything you want to give,” I added.
“Call me Mistress,” she ordered with a tiny, evil smile.
“Yes, Mistress!” I darted my face up and kissed her, feeling a little sexually satisfied for maybe the first time since this whole nightmare started, and wriggled happily as she kissed me back.
But it wasn’t all perfect… Somewhere a distant part of my mind couldn’t stop thinking about Mikayla, about her stripping nude and showing me her body and telling me what she wanted. And as much as I wanted to surrender myself to Brit, another part of me wanted to do the same to the black girl down the hill…
“It makes sense, y’know,” Brit remarked.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw her lounging on the couch in the living room, sprawled in what I thought was an unladylike position while clad only in a pink babydoll tee and tight pair of matching panties. I held my tongue, though… I was in no place to pass judgment, especially considering that I was parading around the house bare-butt naked. “What does?” I asked instead as I turned my attention back to the kitchen counter.
“What gets us off,” she replied. “I mean, think about it… I was a porn star, before, and basically I did what I was told to do. I think that there was a part of me that didn’t want to take orders anymore, something that wanted to be giving the orders instead. So I think that when you made your offer that it felt right, ‘n I wanted to do it.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe that makes sense,” I acknowledged. Crackers, some hummus, some celery, I decided. As I moved the foodstuffs to a pair of plates I spared the refrigerator a quick glance out of the corner of my eye. Anything from there? No, I decided as I remembered just how sparse the shelves looked inside the dark, silent appliance the last time I looked. Probably not. “But what about me?” I asked as I gathered up the meal and padded over to the couch.
“What about you?”
“Well, what’s it say about me that I get off on being smacked around ‘n forced to do stuff?” I scooped up some hummus with a cracker and popped it in my mouth – and tried not to whimper as my hunger made it taste like the most delicious thing I’d ever eaten! – and picked up my glass of wine. “I was never like that, before. In fact I pretty much didn’t want to do anything. And now look at me…”
“Oh,” the blonde six-year-old lesbian (bisexual?) amateur dominatrix replied with a wicked leer as she raked her gaze up and down my naked body, “I am looking.”
I flushed a bit and tried not to hide my head in shame, and almost subconsciously I slipped one forearm across my bare nipples while I balled my other hand into a fist and placed it squarely in the cleft of my thighs in a vague (and hopeless) attempt to show some modesty. “Right, that’s what I’m saying!” I continued. “Back before, I would never let anyone tell me that I couldn’t wear clothes! But here I am,” I concluded with a weary sigh, “at the mercy of your decisions, and getting off on it.” I took a deep gulp of wine and reached for a celery stalk, abandoning all hope of concealment and deciding that exposing my flat chest least worst thing I could do. “I mean, how fucking sick am I?”
“You’re not sick,” she replied as she palmed a handful of crackers. “You just have… needs, that you want filled,” she added lamely.
“Right,” I snorted. “And evidently I need to be a twisted little pervert and get slapped around!”
For me, the past hour since our near-simultaneous orgasms in the bedroom had been… bad. The afterglow of our lovemaking had been incredible at first as I surrendered myself to Brit’s domineering ways and let her explore my body, and as she kissed me the tiny blonde had slid her fingers over my chest and nipples, across my belly and mound, between my legs and into my cunny and it was good, it was amazing, it was perfect! But then I started to feel both guilty and ashamed at the same time – guilty that the sick, twisted desires roiling through my soul and ashamed that my six-year-old body craved her touch, and even though I knew it was stupid I felt guilty and ashamed that I had betrayed Mikayla by sleeping with Brit. I almost came again when she firmly pinched one of my nips, moaning into her mouth as I squirmed beneath her while tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, I didn’t know why I was acting the way I was, it was just so not me!
But I did it anyway, following my instincts and being a good little lezzie wifey. When the blonde girl rolled off of me I roused myself and got moving. A damp washcloth cleaned up the worst of the sticky mess between my legs, but when I went to pull on some clean clothes Brit had stopped me. “No no,” she remarked with a wicked grin as she took a seat on the edge of the mattress, “I wanna see you naked!” So I forced myself to parade around in the nude, blushing furiously but at the same time thrilling a little bit at just how naughty I was being, while I got some clean clothes for her. Brit had me dress her and then held me close as we kissed – and then the growling of both of our stomachs reminded us of our hunger. We carefully carried four of the candles out to the living room and then she sprawled on the couch and poured us each a full glass of wine as I rummaged in the kitchen for something to eat.
“Hey,” the former porn star said in a kind voice, “don’t beat yourself up about it!” She leaned forward and placed her hand on my knee, and I’m a bit ashamed to admit that the touch of her fingers on my bare flesh sent a little shiver of pleasure up my spine. “I think it makes perfect sense, considering what you’ve told me about yourself. Look,” she continued as she grabbed another cracker and some hummus, “be honest… You’ve said that you used to do a lot of stuff back when you were younger but haven’t really been with anyone lately, right?”
“Right,” I admitted. I thought hard for a moment as I leaned back and gnawed on a celery stalk, and then gave a mental shrug and decided to go for it. “Back in the nineties I was a turbo slut, I must have done almost a hundred guys.”
“Amateur.” Brit’s grin was wicked but there was a twinkle in her eye and no heat in her words so I knew she was kidding. “And all the guys probably treated you like shit, getting rough with you and pumping and dumping, right?”
My mind flashed back to one guy, a casting agent who had tied my hands behind my back and forced his cock down my throat until I literally choked. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s pretty much why I gave up and concentrated on my career.”
“Well, that was a mistake.” She took a sip of wine and then sat back, cradling the glass in both hands. “I think that, deep down, you were getting off on being dominated. I mean, think about it,” she continued as she fixed me with a pointed stare. “You kept on hooking up with guys who got rough, but when you dumped them you’d always hook up with another guy who was the exact same way. You wanted it like that, I think, but it freaked you out and so you went all sexless nun on yourself. I think you like being dominated, but you’re scared that you’re gonna hook up with someone who’s gonna actually hurt you.”
“I…” It was so stupid and a part of me wanted to deny it, but deep down there was another part of me that couldn’t help but acknowledge the truth of her words. “Okay, maybe,” I admitted. I killed my glass and leaned forward for a refill as I felt the warm buzz of the alcohol float through my system, my mind whirling. “But there’s a whole lot of other stuff I want to do, ‘n some of it is pretty twisted…” I continued as I sat back and took a sip.
“I once did a movie where ten guys pissed on me while I did a sixty-nine with another girl in a bathtub,” Brit stated in a matter-of-fact tone. She giggled softly as I choked and sprayed Pinot across the table in front of us, and I stared at her in shock. “I did a few movies where I got tied up and gangbanged by a bunch of guys. I’ve done it all.” She flushed and cast her gaze down and away, embarrassed at her admission. “I even did a movie where I fucked a dog. A dog. And there was a sequel where I blew a horse.” She refused to meet my eyes and instead reached for the wine bottle, and all I could do was stare at her. “So don’t you say anything about twisted shit,” she concluded.
I couldn’t help it. My imagination flashed from image to image, of Brit in her six-year-old body doing every sick sex thing possible. Brit lapping at another little girl’s pussy as a guy peed on the back of her head… Brit tied spread-eagle to a bed while a bunch of guys took turns fucking her hairless pussy… Brit on her hands and knees as a large dog mounted her from behind… Logically I knew that she had done it all when she was an adult but I just imagined her as she was right then, looking like a sweet little girl. “Did you…” I stammered.
“I didn’t want to do any of that shit, it was my job,” she explained. She took a big swallow and fixed me with a defiant gaze. “I was too fucking stupid to do anything but fuck for money, so I did what I was paid to do. I…” She paused for a half-second as she screwed up her courage and then continued. “I had a thousand dollar a week coke habit, so I needed the cash. So if I wanted a fix I’d bend over when I was told to bend over and do whatever I was ordered to do.” She almost seemed to shake herself and sighed as she sat back. “I managed to kick it last year, but still…”
“I’m… so sorry.” I couldn’t think of anything else. No matter how bad my life had been it was nowhere near as horrible as Brit’s, and in that instant all I wanted to do was hug her tight and make it all better. I think her admission was not a boast but was instead meant to put things into perspective – and considering all the things she’d been forced to do, my submissive desires and obsession with my own pussy juice seemed like nothing! I placed my glass on the table and leaned forward, my nude state totally forgotten as I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t even know what to say…”
“Eh,” she replied with a shrug. “That was then. We’ve got bigger issues right now.” She flashed me a quick grin as she re-donned her self-confident Brit mask and insisted we move on. “But that’s what I’m getting at,” she continued. “Deep down I want to be in charge and give the orders, so I guess that’s what’s getting me off. And you deep down want to be told what to do, and punished when you misbehave. It’s in our genes, or something like that.”
There was no reason for it, but somehow her words did make me feel a bit better. “I understand, I think,” I said. “I… I love tasting pussy,” I admitted, and now it was my turn to look away.
“I kinda got that, I was there, after all,” Brit shot back in a saucy tone.
“No,” I replied, “I mean, I love tasting pussy.” I swallowed and tried to calm my nerves. Do it, just tell her… “I’m sick, I love the taste of pussy, right?” I repeated, placing special emphasis on the word. “Love it, can’t get enough of it. Get it?”
“Oh… Oh!” The blonde girl put two and two together as she reconciled my admission with just how wet I got when aroused, and came to the correct conclusion. “So you…”
“Yeah,” I admitted in a miserable tone.
“And you…”
“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t had to use a towel or anything like that after, lately,” I confessed. Once I started it felt like I couldn’t stop, and my cheeks felt as if they were on fire as I revealed my sin. “’Cause everything that comes out, it’s all going… elsewhere, and there’s no mess. At least, not much of a mess… Down there…”
“Ah.” She was so quiet for so long that I thought that I had shocked her, and my terror started to build up inside of me. She thinks you’re sick, that you’re such a pervert… Eventually she quietly cleared her throat, and when I looked up at her from under my eyelashes she was staring at me with wide blue eyes. “Uhm, y’know that it’s pretty much impossible,” she claimed in a voice tinged with pity. “There’s no way you’ll be able to eat your own pussy.”
“Wait, what?!?” I’ll admit it, I almost jumped in shock. “How did you…”
“I guessed,” she admitted with a shrug. She shot me a crooked smile and settled back against the cushions, a bit of a smug look on her face. “And you confirmed. It’s not that hard to figure it out,” she added as I sat there, my back stiff and my cheeks aflame as I stared at my knees and wished I could find a dark hole into which to climb. “You said you like guzzling down your own stuff, so it only makes sense that you’d try it. It won’t work,” she continued. “I know of only one other porn star who can actually do it, and she was doing yoga and ballet since she was a baby, so she was, like, uber-flexible. And if she was stiff when she tried it, even she couldn’t do it. So there’s no way that you could actually eat out your own cunt. I guess you’ll just have to settle for rolling into a ball ‘n spraying into your own face.”
“Oh God,” I moaned softly as tears stung my eyes. “I just wanna die…”
I felt her shift, and suddenly she was kneeling next to me. “Hey,” she said as she gently placed her fingertips under my chin and lifted my face to hers. “I was just fucking with you, really. I mean, I sucked off a horse. A horse! So your little kink is no big thing.” Brit’s eyes were wide as she stared into mine and her words did quell the fear in my soul, and I felt myself calming down a bit. “I’m sorry, really, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
“It’s just…” I sniffed and wiped my eyes, trying to smile through my humiliation. “I’m just so confused about it all, I mean it’s just so twisted, I never even thought about doing stuff like that before, I wasn’t gay but I don’t know what I am now…”
“It’s okay.” Brit slid her arms around my shoulders and I leaned into her hug, gripping her forearm with both hands as I felt the warmth of her body enveloping me in a calming embrace. “You can be whoever you want to be with me, all you have to do is just ask.”
“Brit?”
“Yeah?”
“Will… will you make me do it again?” My mouth felt dry and my heart pounded in my chest but it was from need, from submission, from a place of safety and security. “Will you make me eat you out again?”
“Sure.” The little blonde sounded happy to accede to my wishes, and she gave me a little squeeze as she rested her head against mine. “I’ll make you my bitch, and you’ll use that tongue of yours to do all sorts of nasty things!” She kissed my cheek and then slid her lips close to my ear. “I’ll even tie you up and yank your hair, would you like that?”
“Uh huh,” I replied as I tried not to smile… she was talking to me as if I were a child whom she was trying to convince to eat her vegetables! “It’d be okay,” I added with a tiny shrug.
“Maybe slap your face, ‘n twist your nips? You think that would get you off?” she continued in her sing-song voice, and I could tell from her tone that she was smiling as well.
“Yeah,” I sniffed. I was feeling better – at least I was, until I sniffed again and then sneezed violently. “Shit, sorry!” I exclaimed as Brit sat back and I tried to wipe the spittle droplets from her shoulder. “Christ, I don’t know what’s the matter,” I muttered with another sniffle as I ran the back of my hand under my dribbling nose. “I’m all stuffed up!” Brit didn’t answer, and when I glanced at her she had a curious expression on her face. “What?”
“Do you smell that?” she asked as she took an experimental sniff. I tried but only burbled, and she shot me a wry look. “Never mind. I think I smell smoke!”
“Smoke?” I grabbed a tissue and tried to discretely blow my nose, and then gave up the ghost and simply blew as hard as I could. The contents of my sinuses burbled out wetly and I could finally breathe again – and the second I sniffed I too smelled it, a hot, smoky smell that seemed to hang in the stuffy, heavy air of the living room. “Something’s burning outside, but it’s woody,” I noted.
“Right, it’s not chemical like the city. Shit!”
We stared at each other for a moment as we prayed our fears were not coming true, and then as one we slipped off the couch and skittered across the carpet to the door. It was still cloudy/murky outside but the air seemed to be almost fuzzy, as if a light fog was rolling in. The second we stepped onto the porch the burning wood smell grew even heavier, but all we could see were the fires downtown. “I don’t see anything,” I said as I padded – still bare-butt naked, I distantly realized – over to the railing. “Do you?”
“No, nothing.” Brit joined me at the rail and pointed downhill. “I think they want to tell us something!”
I looked down to see Mikayla, re-clad back into her makeshift tunic, furiously jumping up and down and gesturing wildly. For a moment I thought she was pointing up at us, but then I realized that she was instead pointing above and behind us, and we both turned to see the massive black-grey columns billowing up to the sky further up the hill. I turned back around as a sinking feeling wiped away any good feelings I might have had and peered back down at our fellow survivors. Mikayla was joined by Lourdes and I could see Amy through the door, and the black girl was furiously scribbling on the back of her picture. When she held it aloft I felt an icy chill run up my spine despite the heat. She had written a single word.
