The monochrome images on the TV screen were grainy and jerky, but there was no doubt it was me.

There really wasn't anything I could say to Louise: as I was a paying guest in her house I could hardly object. She had every right to install a hidden closed circuit TV camera in her own bedroom, though I wished my unexpected appearance on the small screen was less like a vampire from a 60s TV show. I watched in silence as the "show" unfolded before me, aware Louise was watching me to see what I was going to do about it.

Truth is, there was nothing I could do. The tape I was seeing was a copy so ripping it out of the video player would have been a waste of time. Denying it was me was equally pointless as it clearly was me. Even got my best side, too.

Of course I was embarrassed. Who wouldn't be? Being filmed bending over a sleeping female and lifting back the bed sheets so I could suckle one of her large boobs was bad enough. Being seen putting my hand down between her legs as she slept soundly looked almost perverted.

It was perverted, but as I had drugged her to allow me to feel her up as she slept deeply I hoped she wouldn't ever know. Well, the hidden camera put an end to that scheme.

"I suppose," I said as the camera showed me crouched between Louise's open legs, eating away to my heart's content with my naked bum up in the air – not very ladylike but I had never considered myself a lady – "that you will want to kick me out now. I'll go and pack my stuff."

"Before you do anything, Sharon, I want to know why you did that to me."

I looked at Louise and wondered why she didn't know already. She was tall and shapely and attractive with dark, smouldering eyes and a mane of black hair any self-respecting lesbian would want to get her hands in. Probably to guide those delicious full lips of hers down to your own cunt with the polite request for her to lick you to a climax. I had fancied Louise since I moved in to the house nine months ago, watching her entertain a string of men who were in their own way lusting after her. Except I was a woman and wanted to use her my way.

"So why?" She asked again, her large and exciting eyes on me.

"So, you are beautiful," I said. "It was the only way I thought I'd get to touch you. Kiss you. That sort of thing."

"I'm a woman," she said.

"And I am a lesbian, so you can guess the attraction for me," I responded. On screen I was still lapping at the sleeping slit, wriggling nicely as I got one hand between my legs to bring myself off.

"I'm a straight woman," she said.

"More reason for me to get what I could the way I did. But how did you know what I was doing?" I felt I ought to at least know that before I left. I thought I'd been so careful.

Louise regarded me. On screen I had shifted position so I was eating the near unconscious woman with my bum poised over her face, feeling her lips on my sex as best I could. "I went to the doctor," she said. "I had these strange marks around the top of my thighs, bite marks on my tits. My doctor said they were marks similar to intense sexual activity, but..."

"But?"

"I don't let my boyfriends do stuff like that."

I shrugged. "I figured I wouldn't hurt you as such."

Louise shook her head a little. "It wasn't hurting as such. Tell me, what did you drug me with?"

"Something recommended by people who do this thing more than me. Like a date rape drug I suppose. It has a long name and I just bought it in pill form, dropped one of them into your bedtime drink. Guaranteed to put you in a deep and relaxing sleep."

Louise stifled a smile, in spite of all this. "I certainly slept well. Better than ever before. And I had some weird dreams about sex..."

"About your boyfriends, I assume," I said, looking back at the screen and the way I was rubbing my sex on Louise's upturned face, grinding myself to orgasm before I smothered her.

"Not all of them, which – shall we say – intrigued me," said Louise carefully, watching herself on screen being felt up, fingered, rubbed, smothered, bitten and kissed in a riot of pleasure for me. Pity she missed so much of it.

"You're straight," I said, watching myself too.

"Yes," she agreed.

"So, I will pack my belongings and go, unless you want to show this tape to the police."

Louise studied me (the person by her side, not the grainy one simulating a 69 on the television screen) for a few moments, weighing things up. Then she said: "No, I don't want either, Sharon. But I do want you to exchange bedrooms with me and give me all the drugs you have." Louise had those eyes on me, and I felt wet between my legs at what I was thinking, and what I hoped she was thinking.

* * * * * * *

I suppose it was pay-back, of a sort. When I was allowed to watch the tape, on screen I was flat out, deeply asleep on the bed. I might have been naked but I lay comatose while the luscious, lovely Louise was climbing on top of me, naked herself. I could see the wonderful swell of her hips, the way her superb breasts swung – so much more alive than the gravity-flattened shapes I was used to as she lay under me before.

God, she was biting hard. Even watching it now on the screen I felt my nipples throb from the savagery of her teeth on my tits. On TV she was riding me, pounding my face with her lithe body and while I could see it now, feeling my own excitement mount in my tingling sex, I knew I hadn't felt anything while I was asleep. Just a deep, long sleep after being required to swallow my specially-prepared evening drink.

That was our agreement. She would have sex with me the way I had sex with her: one oblivious to whatever the other one did. But where I had lapped at the sleeping woman's cunt, nibbling her clit in the hope of some pleasure soaking through her sleep, Louise had a different plan for me. Oh, she used my sleeping face all right. Made my own sex burn and pulse at the thought – and the sight, even in the images before me – of such a gorgeous arse and perfectly made mound and lips against my nose and lips.

But as I say it was a different agenda, as I would soon see. Of course, I didn't need to see it happen as I had the marks on me. Vivid red and purple bruises across my breasts, angry raised welts on my inner thighs. I would have screamed if I had been awake. But Louise insisted I watch now, and worse watch with my hands bound behind me, so I couldn't touch myself. In case I got excited at being beaten.

And Louise did beat me. She had bitten my tits as I had bitten hers, though her tongue didn't stray between my open legs. What she used down there was a small whip she had procured from somewhere. She stood over me and beat my belly and thighs and tits with a relentless, but unfailing, enthusiasm. I could see my skin mark at every lash, what must be brutal red marks (albeit in black and white and grey) appearing before my eyes. I was being beaten hard, and only the depths of a drug-induced sleep left me unmoving and uncomplaining.

Whatever Louise got off on with her stream of boyfriends, it wasn't normal sex. That was for sure. She wasn't what I would call a true lesbian either, not strictly speaking. A lesbian would care for her partner's sexual needs – even when dishing out pain. I've known gay women into bdsm and while they might want to torture you they also want you to climax with them. Sadly, I could see I wasn't meant to cum at all. Louise did as she rubbed her slit on my face, rubbing her engorged clit on the tip of my nose. Sure I would have wanted to use my tongue but that was put away, so the woman I lusted after was using my nose and chin to slake her sexual thirst. I was the impassive object to be rubbed against and whipped and bitten and pinched (yes, she did that too) and then I saw her introduce clothes pegs to my tits and nipples, pulling them off so sharply that even in my deep sleep I flinched a little.

The tortures and beatings took almost an hour. I marveled at where Louise got her energy from, marveled more at how my body took the hammering, the abuse. I regretted not being awake to lick Louise out as she positioned her rear over my face, but then I knew she wouldn't want that. I was there to be a source of pleasure in other ways. I admit I have no idea if she did orgasm on me: I couldn't ask as Louise had took the precaution of ball-gagging me before turning on the TV show.

So I stood silently and wondered and watched my unknowing self being beaten on the TV screen, hoping that somehow Louise was turned on enough by this that she might say: "Next time, we won't have the drug first."
But Louise never did. I was told, at the end of the tape, I would be filmed again like that, drugged and oblivious to anything of course. I would know nothing of what this beautiful woman would do to me as it happened. Only after waking up and examining my body for whip marks and bites and cuts and anything else, I would then be allowed, when bound and gagged, to watch what she had done.

The tape finished, the image faded to black on the screen.

"You won't understand, Sharon, but this is how we will have the affair you want." Louise turned all her attention to me. "The only time we will have contact the way you like is with you drugged and me administering your punishments for what you did to me before I had the TV camera installed. God knows how many times you had used me, but I intend to make sure I do far more to you."

I nodded. I really didn't have much choice.

"We will do this once every two to three weeks, when your marks have healed so you can see new marks on yourself in the morning. I will drug your last drink one night when I think the time is right. So you will wake up in the morning having been beaten and having suffered whatever else I choose to do."

I could have been sad, but at least I knew that in the morning I would wake hurting but with the smell of Louise's cunt on my face and in my hair. I would know the bite marks were her teeth, that her elegant hands had done things to me. Then Louise made my heart beat faster.

"Sharon, I am a straight woman as you know, though in time – if I feel happy about this – I will use my mouth in various places on you while you are deeply asleep. I have no great desire to taste another woman's pussy though I am told by friends I don't know what I'm missing. Perhaps one day I will find out, or not as the case may be. Whatever, you will see on the tape the next day what I have done and you will have to trust your instincts that had you been awake, you would have enjoyed it all." She paused and looked at me. "In time you will love me, I am sure, in a certain way though you won't be aware of the pleasures I get from abusing you. Well, it might be better than having none of me. In time I may meet a man who I wish to marry, in which case our arrangement will stop. You will be sad but you will have all the tapes to look back on and enjoy in your own way."

I nodded, hoping she wouldn't meet anyone soon. A brief thought flickered in my mind that I might, from time to time, drug her drink as I used to and go to her new bedroom and use her. I would, of course, only do it after I had thoroughly checked for a new camera hidden there. That way I could lick her deep, hot cunt as she slept, totally unaware I had turned the tables on her. This time too I would be careful not to mark her, simply enjoying her body.

The thought didn't last. Louise is a clever girl, and had thought of that possibility too. "Oh yes, and in case you think I hadn't considered that you will still try to drug me I will have chains fitted to your bed. You will spend each night restrained by the neck so even if you did drug me at least I would get a good night's sleep and you would simply lie there frustrated because you couldn't get up and use me. Understand, Sharon?"

I understood, and nodded. Louise looked pleased and rewound the tape so we could watch it again. Only this time she put her hand down the front of her pants to enjoy my beatings even more.

She was straight, but she knew how to enjoy a woman her way as we watched the images of me and her on the screen again. And again, and again.

* * * * * * *

Rewind. Copyright � 2007 Stella Engle. Return to Stories List