1. That Hated Edge!


    Date: 1/10/2015, Categories: BDSM, Author: ChrissieLecker, Rating: 26, Source: LushStories

    new, and I had no idea what she had planned. I pulled down my panties and sighed softly. My pussy lips were red and swollen, and the gusset sticky with my honey. “Randy little thing,” Em commented and pulled a small jar from her purse. “You know what this is?” she asked, holding it up for me to inspect. It was dark red, with some brighter spots, and at first, I had not the faintest idea. Then she pulled one of these cheap, semi-transparent rubber gloves from her purse and put it on, and a knot of dread formed in my stomach. “No,” I protested meekly. Em smiled brightly at me and unscrewed the jar, then dipped a finger in and lifted out a good scoop. “No, you don’t know, or, no, please not this?” “Not this,” I whimpered, now certain that I didn’t want chilli paste on my already flaming parts. “But you know the rules, Sally. Once the game has started…” She held out her finger until it was just an inch from my poor twat. “Spread yourself open and cover your twat with the paste. Be a good girl. Do it for me.” “Oh god, Em, please,” I begged, but I already knew I’d find no compassion. My hips trembled, but I spread my labia apart and moved forward until my twat touched the red goo. I bent my knees so her finger slid upwards through my folds and coated them with paste. She helped by wiggling her finger a little once it reached my clit. At first, I only felt her touch. Then my twat grew warm. After seconds, it started to burn, a burn that quickly turned into stinging, and I ...
    whimpered softly. “Good girl,” she whispered and put the jar back in her purse, then pulled off the glove. She pulled up my panties herself this time and even smoothed down my skirt. I hated that she could make me do practically everything! * * * * The party was just a few blocks down the road from campus, so we walked. Each step rubbed my swollen pussy lips together, and my twat boiled and burned painfully. I shuffled awkwardly behind, trying to keep up with Em’s determined strides and trying not to worry about my creamy juices which had started to drench my panties once more and would soon make them overflow. My nipples were hard like steel, rubbing on the dress’ fabric with every step and stoking my arousal. Suddenly, Em turned left into a cul-de-sac. “Hey!” I protested. “That’s not the way to the party!” She stopped and turned around, the biggest grin I’d ever seen on her lighting up her face, and my stomach plummeted. “We’re going to a different party.” Her smile became patronizing. “Don’t worry about Monica; I called her.” “But…” I started to object. The short widening of her eyes silenced me. I hung my head and followed after her, a strange buzz starting in my tummy. She always did that -- change plans at the last minute whenever I was all hyper about something, just to drive home how much control I let her have over me; I should have expected it. We approached a big, white, wooden house with a few steps leading up to a large porch. “How’s your twat?” Em asked out of the blue ...
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