Sexual Deviance
Part 3 - The First Time
F/f, teen, High School, blackmail, D/s, Serious,
Megan looked at her watch again. Quarter to four. Ten minutes after Melissa had
told her to be here. Melissa was late.
Or was she late? Was Megan in the wrong place? Trying to calm the rising panic
within her, she thought back hard over what the older girl had said.
"Toilet in the sixth form, by the stairs. Twenty-five to four. Don't be late."
This was the right room, Megan was sure of it. She had never been in the sixth
form area before, she wasn't allowed to until she actually became a sixth form
student next year. She wouldn't have been in any real trouble if a teacher
caught her, but she would have to explain.
And what could she say?
"I'm sorry, Sir, but Melissa Young knows I cheated on that last science test,
and she told me to come here or she'd tell everyone."
Megan panicked again. Melissa knew. She knew! And she would tell everyone, Megan
believed that. She didn't know the older girl very well, but what she did know,
she didn't like. Melissa was easily the most gorgeous girl in the school, but
she had a reputation as a tease. She wore as short and as skimpy clothing and as
much jewellery as she could get away with by the school uniform code. Megan had
heard more than one time of Melissa leading a boy on and then not... going all
the way.
Megan had no wishes for sex with anyone, not yet, but she still had an
uncomfortable feeling that there were rules. You didn't promise a boy sex and
then not deliver.
There was also something arrogant about Melissa. It was in the way she walked
around, the way she acted, the way she did everything. Her parents were rich,
and she was destined for a great future.
What did Megan matter to her? What did she care that Megan had cheated on a
science test? Surely it would mean nothing at all.
But what if she did tell? At best, Megan would have to resit the test, and she
would fail. At worst, she may be expelled.
Oh, God... what could she do?
Megan checked her watch again. Ten to four.
She must be in the wrong toilet. It did not occur to her to think that this
might be just a sick joke; there was too much at stake for that. She had to be
in the wrong place. Melissa would get sick of waiting for her before long. If
she left now, she could still find her. There was a toilet at the other end of
the sixth form area, she thought.
She waited for ten agonising heartbeats, and then made for the door.
It opened as soon as she reached it, and Melissa walked in.
"Not leaving, were you?" she asked.
"No... I thought I was... I thought you were..."
"It doesn't matter," Melissa said, closing the door behind her, and bolting it.
The toilet was large by most standards, but it was a little cramped with both of
them in there. Megan liked her personal space and Melissa was right next to her.
There was a thick smell in the air from her perfume.
"I know you cheated in that test," she said. "I could tell Mister Steerman."
Megan felt her knees nearly buckle. "Please don't," she breathed. "Please..."
"Why shouldn't I? I hate cheaters. People studied hard, so why should they lost
out because of your cheating?" Her pretty, heart-shaped, doll-like face was
radiating sincerity and the moral high ground.
Although there was only a few years between them, to Megan at that moment, she
may as well have been an adult, even a teacher. Melissa was so confident, so
superior. The school uniform that made Megan look like a little girl made her
seem a grown man's fantasy. She wore the blue jumper and the navy pleated skirt
with an aura of dangerous sexiness, belied by the innocence of her doll-like
features. Megan found a slow warmth begin to rise in her belly.
"Please," she whispered, trying desperately to think of an argument why not.
"Please..." was all she could say. "I'll... I'll do anything."
"Anything? What could I possibly want from you?"
"I have money," Megan panted. "Not much, but..."
"Are you trying to bribe me?"
"No... I don't... please..." Megan fell quiet, having no idea of what to do or
say next. Melissa was simply standing there, so confident and beautiful and so
much a woman. She folded her arms over her full breasts.
"Perhaps there is one thing," Melissa said slowly.
"Anything! Anything at all."
"Take off your jumper."
Megan hesitated. What? Why would she...? What would be...?
Melissa shrugged. "Fine. I'll go and tell..."
"No!" the tearful girl cried out. As quickly as she could, she pulled the navy
jumper over her head. It became tangled in her hair, and she had to struggle,
her fear complicating what should have been such a mundane task. When she was
done, at last, her hair was mussed, and her face red. She dropped the jumper.
Melissa looked at her, and she blushed before the intensity of that examination.
It was as if... as if she were a guy that found Megan attractive, and was
weighing up whether to ask her out or not.
"Do you want me to tell Mister Steerman?"
"No," Megan breathed. "Please no."
"Then you do everything I tell you to, okay? No questions, nothing. Understand?"
"Yes."
"You said you'd do anything I asked, didn't you? If you don't want to me, just
tell me now. I don't like having my time wasted. I can just go and tell, and
that'll be it."
"I'll do it. Anything you want." Megan tried to think what Melissa could
possibly want from her. To do her homework? Some chores? She hadn't reacted well
when Megan wanted money, but maybe... What else could there be? What could a
girl like Megan get someone like Melissa anyway?
"Open your blouse."
A vast rush of thoughts soared through Mega's mind in an instant. That was an
unreal order, perverted, wrong, she had misheard it, she couldn't dare strip
like this, this was a bad joke, Melissa didn't really know anything, but if she
did, what could she possibly do...
How did Melissa know?
That took the merest handful of moments, and then Megan was beginning to undo
the buttons of her blouse. Her fingers were trembling, and more than once she
found the simple act of undoing a button incredibly difficult. Melissa simply
watched her, arms still folded, a powerful look on her face.
It felt like a long time, but in reality it was probably just a minute or so,
and Megan's blouse was loose, hanging about her, revealing her plain cotton bra,
and her developing breasts. Megan was almost embarrassed to be seen so before
another woman, but the quickness of her breath and the pace of her heart were
not entirely due to shame.
"Hands behind your back. Keep them there."
Megan obeyed.
"Stay very still. Don't move until I let you."
Megan wanted to close her eyes, but she found she couldn't, not with Melissa
looking at her like that.
Slowly, the blond girl reached forward and pulled down the bra, revealing
Megan's pale breasts. The poor schoolgirl trembled as Melissa ran her hands over
her breasts. Soon, her nipples were hard, and her heartbeat even faster.
"Keep your hands there." Megan swallowed, locking her right hand around her left
wrist, imagining the click of metal cuffs.
"Call me Miss Young, understand?"
"Yes, Miss Young," Megan breathed.
"Now, get on your knees."
Awkwardly, not moving her hands, Megan did so. Subconsciously, she spread her
knees, causing her skirt to ride up and reveal parts of her pale thighs.
Slowly, captivatingly, Melissa undid her belt, and let her skirt fall. It had
been short anyway, about as short as she could get away with. Megan gasped as
she saw what lay beneath.
It was the skimpiest pair of panties she had ever thought possible. Silky and
crimson red, some wisps of Melissa's blond pubic hair were just visible around
the edges. Megan's own underwear was plain and cotton. She could not imagine
herself wearing anything like that.
Melissa leaned against the sink, spreading her legs apart slightly.
Megan could barely breathe, her heart pounding, trying not to think about the
unreality of the situation. She knew that any minute now Melissa would reveal
this as a joke, would take out a camera, or leave laughing.
Any minute now...
Melissa smiled thinly.
But what if she didn't? What if this wasn't a joke? What if this was real?
How could Melissa have known? How could she have known the things Megan had
read, the things she had dreamed of? When watching films, she had always fallen
very quiet when the heroine had been captured. When reading books it had always
been the heroine she had identified with, and she was always waiting for the
heroine to be captured. As far back as she could remember, without really
understanding why, she had written stories at school, and in each one the
heroine had been caught by the baddies.
But stories were one thing. To find herself in this position, kneeling like
this.
This was a joke. This was a bad joke.
Oh, God, please let this be a bad joke. Megan didn't think she could bear it if
this was real.
Melissa parted her perfect lips slowly.
And then she spoke.
"Crawl forward."
Instantly, without thinking, Megan obeyed. It was a matter of less than a normal
pace before she was directly before the older girl, her head level with
Melissa's waist.
Again, a long, agonising wait for her next command, which she would obey
utterly. The trembling schoolgirl could hear every heartbeat as loud as a drum.
She began to count them.
One, two, three...
Four, five...
Six...
"Take down my panties," the blond teenage dominatrix ordered.
Megan clamped her hand over her wrist firmly, reminding herself they were
chained shut. Thick, heavy metal chains. Cold, thick, heavy metal chains.
Unbending, cold, thick, heavy metal chains.
With her hands held like that, there was only one thing to do. She moved her
head forward and took the silky panties in her mouth. Struggling for a grip, she
finally closed her teeth over them and began to gently pull them down Melissa's
long legs.
It wasn't easy, requiring a constant shifting of her position and her hold. The
thick, heady perfume that came from Melissa's body was another distraction,
causing the kneeling girl to almost swoon more than once.
To wear such clothing, to have something that silky, that smooth, that colour,
next to her own body...
"That'll do," Melissa ordered, huskily, by the time Megan had pulled them down
to just above her knees. She shifted her seat slightly and reached down one arm,
in a regal, majestic fashion, to run her hand through Megan's hair.
"You know what to do."
And Megan did. She had not been told. She had not read, or seen anything like
this before. She had heard the somewhat garbled and probably inaccurate
playground stories.
But she had never done anything like this before, never truly imagined herself
really doing anything like this.
But she knew what to do.
She had never seen another woman's private parts before. Melissa's hair there
was soft, and blond, almost like fur. Beneath that hair were the thick lips of
her pussy, slightly parted.
Megan swallowed, and ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips.
Then she leaned forward, and gently touched her mouth to Melissa's lips.
She had never kissed anyone before, not properly. She had never kissed a boy on
his mouth, and here she was, kneeling half-naked, kissing a woman's privates.
Without prompting, she opened her mouth and extended her tongue, sliding it
tentatively between Melissa's lips, and into her. A low groan greeted this
action, and instinctively, Megan began to run her tongue around the inside of
those lips.
Melissa tasted wet and thick, powerful. Some drops began to trickle over Megan's
upper lip and into her mouth. It was strange, but she did not stop. She could
not stop.
Soon, her tongue came to a small, harb nub, and Megan began to lick and lap at
that part. The moans coming from her tormentor easily indicated that this was a
correct course of action. Megan knew there was a spot herself, a place that
brought her a pleasant warmth whenever she touched it in the bath. She had never
dared explore more than those brief touches, but if that spot brought her
anywhere near as much pleasure as this did Melissa, then she intended to.
A sudden and bizarre, but very logical thought suddenly came to her.
If Miss Young allowed it, of course.
Megan continued her work. Melissa's moans were becoming muffled, the dominatrix
evidently having bitten her lip to prevent herself from screaming out loud.
There were still teachers around of course.
Oddly, Megan wasn't worried about anyone walking in on them. Miss Young would
handle it, of course, and it wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong and at
the moment she really didn't care anyway.
The flow of liquid was getting stronger, pouring into Megan's mouth, and over
her upper lip, across her nose, everywhere across her face. Megan continued,
lost in her own sensations, nothing else mattering. A warmth was beginning to
rise in her own belly.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was done. Melissa let out a series of
moans, and then a long pant, and then, wearily, she pushed Megan back. The
startled young girl remained there, looking up. Melissa seemed dazed, as if
drunk, a look of strange pleasure on her doll-like face.
Eventually she came around, and pulled up her panties, and then her skirt. She
straightened her clothing generally, and washed her hands in the sink she had
been resting on, with not a word to the young girl she had just forced to her
will.
Then, after studying herself in the mirror for a long while, she turned back to
Megan.
"Well," she said. "You did... okay."
Megan's heart leapt at such praise.
"I won't tell Mister Steerman." There was a pause. "This week."
Conflicting emotions warred within Megan. Trying to keep her voice level, she
said, "this week?"
Melissa smiled. "You didn't think that was enough for me to keep this to myself
forever, did you? You'll have to do the same next week."
Megan fought to keep herself from either whooping with joy, or bursting into
tears.
"Next Wednesday... no, not Wednesday. I've got a date." Melissa paused, in
thought. "Thursday. Same time. Here. Or would you rather I tell Mister
Steerman?"
"No, Miss Young," Megan cried, her hands still held locked behind her back.
"Good. Till then. Wait five minutes after I've gone, then wash your face,
straighten up and leave. Don't you dare tell anyone about this." She paused
again. "And next Thursday, don't wear a bra. In fact, don't wear any underwear.
None at all." She smiled. "Yes. I like that."
And with that, she was gone.
Megan remained there for a long time, unsure how long five minutes would be, and
not willing to look at her watch to check. Finally, she freed her hands and
stood up.
Even as simple an act as washing her face was different by now. She had not
believed she was capable of such an act, but now she could not imagine not doing
that again. The wait until next Thursday would be agonising.
How could she keep this a secret? How could she look at people in the same way
again?
How could she...?
How could she wait that long to do this again?
Mercifully, no one stopped her on her way out. She had no idea what she would
have said if anyone had.
--------
"I see," said Doctor Kavanagh, putting down her pen and flexing her fingers.
Meg's mouth was dry with talking so much.
"And? What happened after that? Did you meet up again?"
"Yes," Meg said, a shiver of both repressed desire and utter shame flooding
through her as she relived those early experiences. How could she have done
those things? How could she have enjoyed doing those things?
But she had enjoyed them. Melissa had never done anything back to her, but the
memories were enough to keep her very satisfied and the experiences had prompted
some self-exploration of her own body, with very pleasant results. She had even
re-enacted the experience with Donna, Meg dressed as a schoolgirl, in the
toilets of a nightclub.
But she had been different then. A sexual deviant. A slut. It had been acts like
that that had led to the image she had seen - of a pathetic creature driven mad
by lust.
"Once a week for the rest of term, or near enough. We got a little more
adventurous, but nothing much."
"Examples, please."
"Handcuffs," Meg said, trying to think. Her experiences with Melissa seemed so
long ago, and had been replaced in her mind by her relationship with Donna. She
had largely forgotten them until now.
"Bondage rope. Lingerie, as well. I remember one time Melissa made me go
shopping to buy lingerie for myself, and then she..."
"That's enough for now, Miss Hayden. I may get more details as to specific
events later. What happened to this Melissa?"
"She... uh.. she left school. She was going to go to university, but I heard she
got pregnant. I haven't seen her since she left. She didn't make the last visit
we arranged."
"Excellent. Well, Miss Hayden, there are many more things we need to talk about,
but I think we both need a rest, and I do have other patients to think about,
not to mention a social life. You must be quite hot and sweaty under that
straitjacket, but you do understand why you have to wear it, I hope?"
"Yes, Doctor Kavanagh."
"Why?"
Meg paused. She had just been playing along in agreenment, and certainly hadn't
been expected to be asked. She tried to think.
"To... keep my arms restrained, or I could try and... become overwhelmed by
my..." It was hard to say it. "By my... deviant thoughts... and..."
"Yes, yes," Doctor Kavanagh interrupted her. "That's not the reason I was
thinking of, but it will do. You see, Miss Hayden, you look very sexy like
that." Meg blushed, her mouth open wide.
"Now, I'm sure you need a shower before some food. I'll have Nurse Kara escort
you to the showers so you can tidy yourself up a bit."
No, not Kara! Meg remembered the amazon's brutal treatment of her.
But it was all in the name of treatment, right? Kara worked here, she obviously
wanted to cure Meg. Meg's heart calmed. That was obviously it. Kara didn't bear
her any personal grudge, why would she? It was all just...
Therapeutic.
She kept telling herself that as the amazon led her away from Doctor Kavanagh's
office and towards the showers.
Next: The Showers
