The Mind Is Virgin Territory update (Patreon)

Sitting in Emma’s room—really, it was a suite, the blonde having opened her own purse-strings to give the mansion almost a new wing for her to live in—Kitty heard the sound of gentle music starting elsewhere. The strains of it swelled softly and tantalizingly as Emma walked back into the room, apparently having powered on a stereo.

She held a tea tray laden with a collection of little sandwiches. The cosmopolitan aura of the furnishings swept over Kitty as Emma mentally detected whether she took one lump or two, and smugly served the appropriate number.

“That is a lovely blouse,” Emma said, apparently priding herself on presenting an air of civility.

“Thank you. It’s from Bali.” Kitty felt the slickness of Emma’s probing into her mind, and automatically tried to defy it with her anti-psychic training. Nevertheless, Emma smiled as she got through Kitty’s defenses.

“Oh, there’s a K-Mart in Bali? I had no idea,” she purred. “I have been to Bali, you know. It’s lovely.”

“A bit too expensive for me,” Kitty said, even as she thought how ridiculous it was that she was priding herself on being polite. Here she was, turned into Emma’s sex slave so that Emma wouldn’t blow the whistle on her and Jean, and yet they were making chitchat. 

Emma’s smile was perhaps simple politeness, perhaps a reflection of her sense of Kitty’s inner conflict. “It isn’t expensive once you get there.”

“Getting there is the thing,” Kitty replied. She drew her legs up warmly beneath herself on the couch. “This is a very nice place you have here.”

“Really? Not too ostentatious?”

“For me, maybe.”

“Well, I like to have some luxury when I’m in the country. I travel a lot, you know. Business interests in Africa and China. I’m gone all throughout the summer. It makes it hard to be too close to anyone stateside.”

Kitty let herself be impressed. “It seems like a very glamorous life.”

Emma gave a pretty laugh. “I suppose so. I don’t mean to sound so worldly, but one grows accustomed to it.”

The hypnotic quality of the music in the other room impinged on Kitty. Everything was so very still except for that throbbing beat. 

“Now, Kitty, how are things with you and Jean?”

“There are no things with me and Jean. I thought it was best for us to give each other a wide berth.”

“Really? Nothing to confess?” Emma’s sharp eyes bore into Kitty with the most bored intensity the younger woman had ever seen. “No impure thoughts? Not one single itch? Not even a tiny twitch of desire in that hot little pussy you have? It must be truly wonderful, Kitty, to be so completely free from temptation.”

“I… I…” Blushing, Kitty cast her eyes downward.

“Because if you had been tempted,” Emma continued, rising from her seat and pacing around Kitty like a caged beast, “you would have come to me, yes, Kitty?”

“Ms. Frost…” She was so confused and embarrassed that she wished she could melt through the lush carpeting and disappear forever. 

Emma had come up behind her chair, and now she shocked Kitty by taking hold of her shoulders. She shocked Kitty even more by demanding, her lips almost brushing Kitty’s ear: “Pull up your skirt, Kitty. Show me what kind of underwear you have on.”

“Oh, Ms. Frost—I’m not—they make me feel so…”

“Your skirt!” Emma insisted.

Kitty reached down with trembling fingers to take hold of her ankle-length skirt, drawing up the hem over her shapely legs. She exposed first her shoes, then the white cotton stockings that reached to the middle of her thighs. Then her womanhood came into view. Emma could see the lips of her pussy, parted slightly, the bright pink flesh inside peeking out at her.

“You’re not wearing any panties. You’re naked under that skirt.”

“I know,” Kitty said. “I decided to leave them off this morning. I guess…”

“I guess you were hoping to run into Jean. Down on your knees, Kitty. Confess your sins.”

Kitty did as Emma said, kneeling down on the floor. She felt guilt as she began to speak, but reciting her sins out loud didn’t make her feel more guilty, just squirmy and moist.

Standing in front of Kitty, Emma put her hands on the younger girl’s head, as if about to force her flapping tongue into the juncture of her thighs. Instead, her fingertips massaged gently, soothing Kitty’s troubled brow as if rewarding her for her honesty, for the sin itself. And, as she pleasurably caressed Kitty’s scalp, she delved into the faint echoes of overweening pleasure that Kitty had felt…

Kitty didn’t balk at the intimate kiss Jean was so clearly desirous of. Almost whimpering, she licked up the sweat along the deep valley between Jean’s buttocks, extending her tongue when she found the rosebud of Jean’s anus. She rolled her tongue into a tight circle to follow the circle of Jean’s asshole, around and around with the tip of her tongue until she’d almost memorized the wrinkled grommet of it. She knew it shouldn’t be, but it was wildly exciting to do something so forbidden, especially with someone so forbidden. The older Jean Kitty had loved; this one she adored.

You have to be the sweetest woman on Earth! She groaned inwardly, ramming her tongue all the way into Jean’s tight little asshole, melding her lips firmly to Jean’s anus in a sucking kiss.

“You’re sweet!” Jean gasped. “Ohhhh—not so hard! I love it, but it’s like you’re turning me inside out! I--can you--my pussy, please, it’s so tender…”

Kitty groaned, tugging her lips away from Jean’s asshole and bringing them to her juicy cunt instead…

“And I let her—Jean—I let her kiss my, my private parts,” Kitty continued in a small voice.

Emma seemed amused, externally, but really she was fighting to keep herself from staggering as she gaped at the power of the memory she had uncovered. It had almost overwhelmed her psi-shields and penetrated her own memories with reliving Kitty’s experience. Kitty really was a sensualist—she had enjoyed her tryst with Jean as even the most decadent hedonist could only dream of.

“Do you mean, Kitty, that you let Jean eat your cunt?”

Kitty nearly gasped. That was just what she had called it as she gave into temptation, losing herself in the sinful excitement of letting herself be with Jean. Eat my cunt, Jean!

“Yes…” Kitty said at last, piqued with enough irritation to overcome her regret. “Very classy way to put it, Frosty.”

“I can’t very well absolve you, Kitty, unless I know exactly what you’re talking about. You should use blunt words for your acts. It lets me know just what a naughty girl you are.”

Oh, you are loving this, Kitty thought hatefully. Emma wasn’t treating this like an administrator disciplining an underling, but like a priest hearing a confession. I suppose next she’ll putting God on her name tag. 

She felt her cheeks burning as she forced herself to continue. “She ate my pussy and I tongued her ass.

“And you enjoyed all of this?”

Kitty looked away. “Yes, Ms. Frost. I enjoyed it very much.”

“Is that all?”

Kitty felt almost cheated by the way Ms. Frost didn’t seem the least bit shocked or angered by the sins that, by Kitty’s own philosophy, would very nearly have her damned. Emma looked wearily amused, like an indulgent parent hearing of the mischief their favorite child had gotten up to.

She knew it was a waste of time to try and shock Emma, but Kitty hoped she would as she said, “I fucked her with a strap-on. Right in the ass. I gave her every inch of it and she took it all—she’d never taken it there before.”

Emma remained unsurprised. “And you enjoyed it? You came?” 

“Three times, Ms. Frost. I think she might’ve been sharing the… the pleasure of it with me. But honestly, just seeing the way she was struggling to take it in, working herself against me, enjoying it so much even though it hurt…”

“Did you come harder than you do with me?”

Kitty looked up to say yes, to admit to it, but her head reeled and she had the sudden sensation of missing time, like she’d slipped asleep during a movie and woken up in the middle of a different one. Emma still stood before her, but she’d lost the white David Bowie suit, now wearing thigh-high boots, elbow-length gloves, and a diamond-encrusted choker—nothing else. Her pendulous breasts, F-cups easily, fell heavily on her chest, upthrust with every breath she took, provoking instant envy in Kitty as well as arousal. Her fine blonde pubic hair had been shaven into a diamond shape, the bottom pointed like a dagger at her erect clitoris. Her sex was wet.

Emma had frozen her mind while she’d changed, which was just like the posh bitch, taking all the guesswork out of sex. She’d probably masturbated a few times before unfreezing Kitty, just because her own pleasure took such precedence.

“Look at me, Kitty. The epitome of beauty. The grand total of everything that can be found attractive in women. Wit. Intelligence. Physique. Strength. Admit to yourself that you want to serve me. You’d rather be my whore than Jean’s lover.”

Her gloved hands took hold of Kitty’s head, and Kitty’s mind swayed again—she didn’t know if she lunged forward to Emma’s cunt or if Emma forced her to it, but she tasted the tart wetness of Emma’s sex as it embraced her mouth. Emma held her in place, but didn’t take charge beyond that. She let Kitty work, she gave Kitty’s own lust free rein, as Kitty ran her tongue over Emma’s pudenda, plum and softly swelling, bittersweet as her tongue coursed over it to provoke fresh tastes of her flowing juices.

“Yes,” Emma sniffed, “yes, this is what you want. You think you’re such a good girl—nnnh—but you want to be bad. You want to be bad with me. Harder, Kitty. You know you want my pussy more than that.”

Kitty did, and she opened her mouth wider, letting her tongue further out of her mouth. It found the seam in Emma’s labia and parted it gently, slipping inside to the glossy inner flesh, running over the ragged lips of her cunt, the gulping depths of her channel seeming to suck at Kitty’s tongue as she licked over them—the tip of her tongue came to Emma’s clit and found it almost buzzing with need, pitched stabs of Emma’s lust thrilling through Kitty as her psychic pleasure resonated through the room.

“Yes, Yes,” Emma gasped, her porcelain skin flushed, her hair ruffled from being shaken back and forth. “Do you ever let Jean read your mind when we finish up with these little play dates? You should. You should let her see how much you love it. Maybe then she’d see what a submissive little slut you are…”

Kitty smirked to herself as she slid her tongue over Emma’s clit again, making Emma twist her head from side to side, golden hair becoming even more ragged. A sheen of sweat was glossing the perfect body, but in its imperfection, it became even more beautiful, because Kitty was the one who’d done that to her. 

Kitty opened her mouth, smacking her lips wetly on the protruding hill of Emma’s clitoris and the upper reaches of her seething cunt. Emma moaned with each impact of Kitty’s lips, slurping together over the most vulnerable parts of her pussy, and she quivered and she sighed as Kitty’s mouth returned to her churning sex again and again.

“Whore!” she cried tearfully, hands going slack on Kitty’s bobbing head. “You whore!”

She let go of Kitty, hands flying to her face, biting down on the knuckle of her thumb as she squirted, anointing Kitty with her ecstasy.

Kitty stood while Emma barely could, the blonde weaving back and forth on unsteady feet. Kitty grabbed her and kissed her, sharing the taste of her cunt as she thought of how much sweeter Jean’s was—knowing Emma could hear.

“Just because I want to fuck you,” she said, “doesn’t mean Jean does.”