Enlightened Descent Ch. 01

Enlightened Descent, is a novelette that explores the relationship between two close friends. Neither was aware of the other's sexual attraction, and so it is a revelation when they discover their mutual desires. They soon learn that there are very distinct differences in the roles they wish to play however, and this leads to some very entertaining reading.

This story deals with various aspects of the lesbian lifestyle, as well as BDSM, extreme autoeroticism and fetish play.
Enjoy!

Saphhia

Chapter One

Allison was lost. She had missed the exit off the interchange and it was miles before she could turn around. She hated New York City, too many expressways, and too many people. Growing up in rural Pennsylvania, she was used to a much more sedate way of life.

Her new job required her to be closer to the city, and she would often be required to travel back and forth between Manhattan and Philadelphia; possibly one of the busiest corridors in the world. She had taken an apartment in New Jersey, striking a balance between the two offices.

She had left all her friends and family back in Pleasantville, and opted for a singular lifestyle in her new home town of Milford. A one-bedroom apartment was all she could afford on her current salary, although she was promised a plethora of bonuses and salary increases once she had proved herself. That was yet to happen.

She was a pretty girl, by all accounts with feminine figure, larger than average breasts and auburn hair that went on forever. Of course, she wore it up while she was in the office, but while at home it was nearly to her knees. She was late getting home, and the night had encroached on the complex where she lived. Kicking the door open with her hip, she side stepped into the kitchen, depositing the groceries that she had purchased on the small counter above the sink.

Allison loved to cook, and as such was never in short supply of those items, that might be found in any gourmet kitchen. Tonight it was pasta, with pesto and a Caesar salad. She set about rolling the pasta, again and again, until she was satisfied that would slice well. Linguini, she thought, smiling as she dropped the freshly made strips into the water. A drop of olive oil, and she was off to get changed into her robe and slippers.

Stripping out of her clothes always was a temptation for her, as she was no stranger to masturbation. After a long day such as this, she would defiantly be slipping into Tumblr mode, and examining some of her most forbidden passions. Back in central PA, she had a boyfriend and was treated to frequent fuckings, and other shenanigans. That was over now, so she had to suffice with her fingers.

The dinner was delicious, and the claret that she had been saving was fantastic. Too good in fact, which caused her to partake a little too heavily. The TV droned away in the background as she fired up her notebook. She had treated herself to a MacBook recently, and she just loved the look and feel of it. Checking her emails, she was disappointed that there had been no response to her craigslist post. Single female, etc..., but then after that she began her nearly nightly ritual of allowing the Tumblr feed to auto scroll, while her fingers kneaded her lips and clit.

Occasionally, something would catch her eye and she would arrest the progress of the feed while she opened the video link or zoomed in on a particular image that tickled her. She often wondered what her clients would think of her, in these moments, her legs lewdly opened, revealing her totally smooth cunt. A few months before she had grown tired of continually shaving herself, so she enlisted the services of laser hair removal boutique. After several treatments, and a few thousand dollars, she completely hair free, and forever. She loved the feel of it. Having such thick hair, she could never be fully rid of the stubble, the very thing that made her hair so stubborn to shave, made it more susceptible to the laser.

The treatments were painful, even with the topical anesthetic applied by the technician. It was worth ever ounce of pain, and every penny spent. No more having shave, power or pamper; it was as if there had never been a hair between her legs, ever. Even during the day, when she would be driving from one location to another, it was difficult her to keep he fingers away.

There were fetishes. She was ashamed of a few of them, but they were hers and no one was the wiser. Some were quite shocking, and even she would gasp at the sight of some of the images the would emerge as she scrolled, her preferences keyed, and groups followed.

"God forbid this notebook ever fell into the wrong hands." She whispered as her fingers dallied with her parts. Of course, she used it for work, but was very careful about leaving it anywhere where it might be ogled. Her Tumblr account was password protected anyway, but there was always the chance. This was one of her fetishes; being exposed, discovered.

She watched as the pretty blonde was stripped forcibly on the screen, her breasts handled roughly and her mouth so forcefully prized open. Then there was the double and even triple penetration by her attackers. Her hand moved furiously between her legs, her lips generating the most liquid of sounds as they slipped and smacked beneath her fingers. There was a bell and she thought she left something on the stove, but it was the doorbell.

The doorbell? She had never had a visitor since she moved there, so she cautiously approached the door. Peering through the peephole, she saw a young woman, about her age, looking rather nervously about.

"Can I help you?" Allison asked through the door, not wanting to open it just yet.

"Hi. I'm Penelope, Penelope Crosset. 5B, down the hall. You won't believe this, but I've locked myself out of my apartment. I just need to call the super." She seemed innocent enough. Allison smelled her fingers, and there was the slight tinge of her own excitement on them. She ran and washed them quickly, and turned off the screen on her notebook.

Fiddling with the lock and the deadbolt for a minute, she finally opened the door with a swoosh. "Can I borrow your phone?" Already in her hand, Alison handed her the phone and watched as she dialed the building superintendent. After a brief conversation, Penelope hung up and asked politely if she could just wait inside the door until he arrived, saying that she was a little freaked out. Not seeing any harm in it, she invited her in to her apartment.

Penelope immediately made herself at home, waking around and examining everything in the place. "These apartments are all the same you know. It's what you keep in them that makes them home." Allison was a little shy about her picking up her stuff, but was not forward enough to ask her not to. As she approached the notebook Alison asked her if she might like a glass of wine while she waited. This was enough to redirect her away from the MacBook. Allison would not have been that surprised if she had turned it on, she was being so inquisitive.

"So, where do you work?" Penelope chimed in, as she took a sip of the expensive Bordeaux.

"For a consulting firm. We are in publishing." I add.

"New York City, then, hmm?" She sets the glass down firmly on the counter and for a moment I thought the stem might snap off.

"Yes, New York and Philly. I operate out of both offices." I didn't want to sound important, but there it was.

"Ahh, and Milford splits the difference for you then?" I couldn't really place her accent, but I thought I caught a little New England or even British.

"And what do you do, Penelope?" Not wanting to sound disinterested.

"Penny, please. Nobody that knows me calls me that; too formal. I don't think I caught your name."

"Allison Knight, sorry." She took another sip of wine and began her story. "Well Allison, I work in the restaurant business, in fact, I own a restaurant here in Milford." I wondered how well her place must be doing, if she had to live in these places. "The Blue Bar, down on Sullivan."

"I think I've seen it, but I've never had the pleasure." She throws her hands up in surrender.

"Ah, and that's why I live here, and not in a mansion over in Bradbury." She chuckled. "No, seriously, you really should stop in. The food isn't gourmet or anything, but it's reasonable fare and the prices are good." She suddenly had a thought that flew across her face, and she was sad for a moment. "To be honest, I just went through a miserable divorce, and he came out the other end in better shape than me." I raised an eyebrow. "He's an attorney, so there was no competition. No kids, just a smattering of communal property, and not even a house to sell."

"Oh, I'm sorry things didn't go better for you." I confided.

"Well, it wasn't that bad. I got to keep the restaurant." She swirled the red in her glass, stopping to watch the fingering as the liquid settled back to the bottom. "This is good stuff. Are you a connoisseur or something?"

"Not really. I just like to cook, and love good wine." I held my glass up and we clicked them together as we both finished them off. There was a knock on the door, and I knew our little conversation was at an end.

"Super!" The voice yelled on the other side of the door.

"Well, thanks for inviting me in, Allison. I look forward to seeing you down at the restaurant. It'll be on the house." She smiled as she rinsed the globe out in the sink, setting on the side, carefully.

"Nice to meet you Penny," I offered my hand, but she was already turning for the door, so I quickly withdrew. And that was that. My first acquaintance in Jersey. I watched through the peephole as she rambled on to the super about something, and then she was gone. I headed back to my little desk and the computer. The mood was totally blown, but it wouldn't take more than a few images to put me back there.

As I pulled out the chair, I was more than a little embarrassed when I saw the wet spot on the seat. If it was still wet now, then it must have been a sopping mess when Penny was here. I leaned down and sniffed the spot, recoiling slightly with the strength of my scent still strong on the material. I wonder if she noticed? What they say about odors, it's true. You can never smell your own as well as someone else can when they're in your house. Shit.

I flipped on the notebook and it picked up right where I had left off. The staged rape scene must have been playing over and over, while we talked. Thank god I had the volume turned down. As I hit the volume button to bring it back up, I realized that it wasn't all the way down. I brought the volume back down to two dots, and listened closely to the speaker. It was low, but not off. Had she heard it? She had been sitting right next to it. I sat on the stool where she was and listened. There was nothing discernible save for one ten second interval where she was screaming in ecstasy. It was definitely audible.

I found that the notion of her finding me out, turned me on immensely. I zipped down the front of my robe, allowing the two halves to split open completely. I suddenly lost interest in Tumblr, other than the repeating video, which I turned up only slightly. I sat on the floor in front of my chair and allowed my face to rest directly on my 'spot'. As I listened to what she must have heard and smelled what she must have smelled, I went ballistic. In the end I was licking the spot on the chair as I screamed out, my orgasm ripping though me like a wildfire.

It took a few seconds to compose myself, and I was shocked by what I had done. I think I'm always a little taken back after the orgasm, especially since my taste has run so much to the bizarre. Speaking of taste, I ran to the bath to brush my teeth, immediately. The flavor of my own juice wasn't nearly as appealing once the fruit was off the tree, so to speak. As I faced myself in the mirror, I had to look away. What a slut I was.

It was true, and I would be the first one to admit it. When I was in my own space, safe, I was the biggest slut you could possibly imagine. I had even gone so far as to go 'live webcam' on a few of the sites that promote that kind of thing. I saw there were a lot of girls that did things for tips, like a reward or something. Not me, I was not in it for the money. Anything anybody asked me to do, I would do, within reason. After a while, I accumulated quite a following. I imagined all these guys with their cocks in their hands, getting off on my lewd display.

Of course, my orgasms were never fake. I can't really say if the other girls were faking, but sometimes it seemed that way. There were always the off the wall requests, that never got honored, but it wasn't like I didn't fantasize about them. I had to go to work, after all. One guy was totally obsessed with my hair, but then wanted me to cut it all off, on cam! He was very persistent, and would often catch me online during my morning sessions as well. That's right, I did this before I went to work, too. As I said, total slut.

Then there were the dares. I dare you to leave your door unlocked over night. I dare you to walk to the end of your hall naked. I dare you to stand in front of your living room window and masturbate for the world. I dare you to piss in a glass and drink it. Some of them were really inventive, I had to admit. I did them all. Well, all but a few. I drew the line at my personal safety. I never left my door unlocked, okay.

Sometimes I wondered if people were taping my little shows. I think the odds were pretty good, as most of the time there was over five hundred viewers. Somebody out there must have been interested enough to tape me. I also started to wonder if anyone I knew might be watching. What were the odds?

Eventually, Penny and I got to know one another, and nothing was ever said about the spot or the smell, or even the low volume rape scene. I took her up on her offer to come to the restaurant, and was glad I did. I became a regular. Our nights were Monday and Wednesday, when we would get together and eat. Either I would cook for her, or she would have me down to the Blue Bar.

Work was stagnant, unfortunately. All the bonuses and salary incentives seemed to evaporate. I was holding my own, but there weren't the opportunities they had promised. I saw no other alternatives, so I kept at it, even if the drive to improve began to wane.

My daily masturbation sessions became more and more intense, if that was even possible. I dreamt up elaborate schemes, where I would leave myself in a precarious situation that almost always involved the risk of exposure. I suppose it was inevitable that one day, something would go wrong and all my worst nightmares would come true.

Everything came to a crashing climax on an evening last summer, when I let things go too far. I was driving home from work when I got the urge to be daring. I had shed my underwear a few times on the way home, and even disposed of them so they were gone altogether. There was something about losing my clothing in public that just tore at me like nothing else. I had stopped at a fast food place and flushed my underwear that day, just like I had before. As I drove in my car, I imagined that everyone around me could see me playing with myself, under my raised skirt. I must have been really aroused, because I managed to slip off my heels. At the next light, I cracked the door and left them sitting at the intersection. Bare assed and barefoot, I was flying higher than a kite. I didn't stop there.

I managed to shed my bra, without having an accident. You know that trick. I looked over at it as it sat on the seat next to me. It had begun to get dark, so I didn't think anything of just throwing it out the window. I'm not usually a litterbug, but this was a cathartic moment. I was losing my clothing a piece at a time. The seat between my legs was soaked with my juice as I contemplated what I would do next. My hand was furiously stroking my clit as I drove, and anybody could have seen the state I was in, if they just look at me.

"Ally, what the hell are you doing?" I had begun to unzip the skirt I was wearing. I was frantic when there was no more zipper, because there was only one thing to do. Slowly, I began to inch the waist down over my hips and then allowed it to fall around my feet. I nearly had an accident as the material got caught under the brake pedal. Managed to slip it off at an intersection and set it on the seat beside me. All I wore was my blouse. If a truck had driven by, or even a large SUV, they could have seen right in, and caught me in my ridiculous state.

There was no way I could afford to lose the skirt. How would I get to my apartment from the garage? It was going to be weird enough with no shoes or underwear. As I drove I continued to masturbate. The only light now was from the overheads that zoomed by as I passed them, each one illuminating my half naked body. I would have to have the upholstery professionally cleaned, jeez. The scent from my juices was overpowering and I had to cool off, so I opened the passenger window. What the fuck was I thinking?

Before I even realized what had happened the wind from the open window had grabbed my skirt. I watched in shock as it disappeared into traffic in my rearview mirror. "Holy fuck!" I screamed, out loud. Now, what was I going to do? All my excitement had gone out the window with my skirt, so the true nature of my predicament began to really sink in.

As I pulled down my street, I was so freaked out that I had to drive around the block four or five times to try and formulate a plan. In the end, there was no plan. I was fucked, basically. To make matters worse, the parking garage was lit up like a Christmas tree. Finally, with no other alternatives, I pulled in and sat in my car.

Each time I would even think about getting out, another car would pull in, or someone would get off the elevator, and leave. What the hell was I thinking? It wasn't arousing at all, and it wasn't even funny. Well, at the time I failed to see any humor in it. Finally, I caught a break.

I must have sat there for over an hour, when I saw Penny's car pull in. Her space was in-between mine and the elevator, so I would have to shout her down.

"Penny!" I yelled out my window, still slumped down in the seat. Oh, god, this was going to be so humiliating.

"Ally, hey. Come on, I'll walk up with you." She waited for me, but I did not get out. "Alright, but stop by later. I picked up a really nice Cab." She started to head for the elevators, so I yelled out again. This time she spun around and stared at me. "What's going on! Are you okay?" Suddenly, I think she must have got the vibe that something was seriously wrong, because she ran over to my car. As she got to my window, I cringed in shame. "What the hell's going on here?" There was a mix of shock and amusement on her face that I could barely look at. I hid my face behind my hand, my other tucked into my crotch, trying to hide myself.

"You wouldn't believe me, even if I told you." She noticed the car seat and the great blotch of cum that spread out from my crotch.

"Oh my god, you didn't get...."

"No, oh my god, no. Nothing like that. This was my own doing." I couldn't believe I had actually said it. Now would be the questions, or maybe she'd be so freaked out that she would never speak to me again. She walked around the other side of the car and got in, so she at least willing to listen. So, with my blatant sexuality obtusely on display, I told her the entire story. And I'm not just talking about the car, I mean everything. With each admission I saw her jaw drop a little farther until she was pretty much gaping at me.

"My god, Ally. I kinda wondered about you, but you really are a slut, aren't you?" She chuckled, and at least she was laughing.