Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“No!” I said, and then I tried to soften it. “No, Candy… please…”
I looked at the bed again, my brain searching desperately for some way out of the other girl’s obscene command.
“Okay!” she said amicably, then continued with utter frankness, “So go ahead and do what I told you. I want to come, too, and I want to come on another girl’s face!”
A new wave of heat came into my own face, and I became suddenly conscious of the color of our nightgowns—me in blue and Candy in white. I remembered why she still had her white one on: Master Hendryk hadn’t fucked her, though she had begged him. He had decided to come inside me. She had climaxed, too, against his muscular backside. I felt a pang of strange sympathy, though, thinking about how needy our owner had left me even after using my vagina with his cock last night and this morning.
I swallowed hard and started walking the few steps over to her bed. Master Hendryk had already acquainted me with the most intimate, shameful parts of my bed sister, my very first day in his house. He had pushed my face deep into Candy’s little bottom and made me eat her hot, wet pussy. It shouldn’t mortify me this much to do it when we were alone, should it?
Somehow, though, a vast difference seemed to open between Master Hendryk’s hand on my head, pressing hard, insisting on my mouth’s shameful attendance to another girl’s needy privates, and having to lie on my back and wait for Candy to take her pleasure, by my own choice, with our owner absent. Trembling and lightheaded, I climbed onto the bed. Not looking at Candy, focusing on the pink comforter, I turned to get onto my back, shifting my gaze from the covers to the white ceiling.
I heard Candy get up from her desk chair and then, a moment later, I felt the bed shift as she climbed up herself. Her white nightgown appeared in the corner of my eye. I felt her hand on my cheek, turning my face, clearly demanding that I look at her. I closed my eyes at first, not wanting to see her expression, whatever it might be: triumph or scorn or sympathy all seemed equally unwelcome since I had no idea how to figure out whether Candy meant what her face said—or whether she even could mean anything at all.
The soft hand on my cheek stroked gently. I opened my eyes after a few seconds, because something in me had to know. Candy looked down with her usual bright smile, as if forcing another girl to serve her pleasure under threat of our master’s cane represented a bit of fun.
“Educational theory,” she said in a conversational tone of voice, “is how people figure out how we learn. It’s actually a big part of Master’s job at Selecta.”
“What?” I asked, trying to come up with a thought that didn’t lead me in ever-tightening circles of confusion. “His job?”
Candy nodded. Her hand moved gently on my cheek. I had to bite my lip as I felt my forehead crease, and a tension in my lower back threatened to make my bottom squirm. I had never gotten so unwillingly turned on with another girl. It must have something to do with the figure of Master Hendryk looming unseen in the background, I understood, but that only led me into another loop of repeating thought.
Candy’s making me wet because she represents Master Hendryk, who put Candy in charge of me because she represents him, who put her in charge…
“He’s the head of the education division.”
“Like,” I said, frowning more deeply as I tried to concentrate, “he’s a teacher? Or, like, a principal?”
She smiled patiently.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s the school division. Education is a bigger thing. You can think of it as teaching, but as the kind of teaching that helps a whole society, rather than just a class or a school. Let me show you.”
Without any further warning—if let me show you actually represented a warning at all, in this case—Candy moved to swing her right knee across my face.
“Oh…” I said. “Wait… Candy…”
“No, Renee!” she said, her voice somehow bright and firm at the same time. “I want to come. You got fucked this morning and I didn’t. You have to learn.”
Under her sheer, lacy white nightgown, between her trim thighs, I took a breath through my nose and smelled my bed sister’s need as I caught sight of her smooth pink pussy. The cleft of her private lips grew darker, with the gathering shadow, as Candy began to lower them toward my face.
I tried to say, “Learn what?” Only the L actually emerged from my mouth, because Candy had started to queen me, moving herself—her wrinkly hooded clit, her already slick pussy, her button of a bottom-hole—rhythmically over my lips, my chin, my nose.