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Julie's little, long-nailed fingers dug at the fly of Gaby's jeans, ripping the zipper wide open, and probably doing it some damage in the process. Gaby was vaguely aware that she had spread her legs as wide as she could, enjoying the way her muscles hurt when she stretched them. "Look at what you're wearing!" Julie said, sounding delighted. Gaby flushed. Tonight, instead of panties, she had worn a frilly undergarment that covered more of her lower belly than her cunt. She'd bought it once as a joke, and only wore it on nights like tonight, when she had nothing else clean in her dresser. She was painfully aware of how femme it looked. What was Julie thinking now? That she had her number, that under Gaby's rough, dykey exterior was a frilly, girly underside? She didn't have much time to be embarassed. Julie was ripping her jeans down to her knees, then reaching up to massage her wet fur with a firm hand. Gaby's head tilted back, eyes closed. Julie's fingers were squeezing and probing at her with no subtlety at all, pushing away the little sodden thong of the undergarment to jab at her slit with long nails. Painful and good. Her knees rose up and she gasped, bumping her ass on the floor. "Fucking cunt," Julie whispered, bending forward to smell her, to torture her clit with her nose. Her words became slurred, as though she were getting drunk on Gaby's pussy-fumes. "Such a big girl. Such a rough, tough girl. Drinks beer like the boys. Smokes like the boys. Swears like the boys. She's not a lady, no no. She laughs at poor little Julie, 'cause she thinks Julie's a wimp. But we're gonna see about that, aren't we? Aren't we, yeah..." "Lick me," Gaby gasped. "Please..." The sensations assaulting her cunt were almost too much to bear. She was used to penetration, to swift, hard fucking, not this play-torture. Julie moved her head to one side and sank her teeth into Gaby's thigh. The pain was startling, exquisite. Gaby let out a yelp and drummed her heels on the floor. "You don't give orders," Julie informed her. "I do. You're my prisoner, remember? Say it. Say, 'I'm your prisoner, Julie.'" "I'm...I'm your prisoner, Julie." "Say, 'I like being your prisoner, Julie. It makes my cunt wet.'" "I like it, I do. It makes my cunt wet, it makes me...oh, Jesus!" Julie pulled Gaby's jeans off entirely, then got up, folding them neatly in her hands while she smiled. "Get up," she told her. Whimpering and licking her lips, Gaby stood up. The linoleum was cold under her bare feet. Her frilly underthing was hanging disheveled and limp around her hips. Tears glinted in the corners of her eyes, and her shoulders hurt. "Aww. You're just a big baby, aren'cha?" Julie asked, tilting her head. "Just a big old dykey-baby-cunt crybaby. What's wrong? You want to be put to bed? Is that it?" Humiliation and horniness chased themselves through Gaby's head. Her mind wasn't operating properly. She tried frantically to call to mind images of her own strength; big, hard men gritting their teeth underneath her, moaning while she fucked them, stony-faced bulldykes whimpering while she laved her fist with grease before shoving it up inside them. All of them failed her now. All she could do was whimper and stand pressing her legs together, trying to get what relief she could for her poor, aching cunt. Her consciousness revolved around that ache now. She searched for defiant words, for some kind of cleansing anger to free her, but she couldn't find any. Julie tossed the jeans aside and hooked a hand around Gaby's side, her face not quite gentle as she reached down with her free hand to tickle her pussy. "Yeah, that's what you are. You're my big, whimpery baby-girl. You wanna go home to Momma? You wanna run away from Miss Julie? Too bad. You're my baby now. Say you're my baby. Say it now." "Your baby," Gaby whimpered, aware how small and infantile she sounded. Christ, if she could just come... "I'm you baby, Miss Julie." "That's right. You want your bottle? You teething? You want something to suck on? I got something for you to suck right here." Julie unbuttoned her blouse and tugged her bra free, letting one tit pop free. Gaby stared at it, realizing that she wanted more than anything else to get that nipple in her mouth. The urge to suck, whether brought on by Julie's words or by some kind of deep, long-suppressed instinct, was irresistable. "Lemme suck," she gasped, taking a tentative step forward. "Please, Miss Julie...lemme suck." END
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