Sam, Laura and Joanne Ch. 03

The Demi-Denouement

Laura went home with Joanne after an evening that started in the late afternoon with Joanne's declaration of love and intent to seduce Laura and ended with a wild scene in a Plaza parking garage.

Joanne gave Laura towels and a washcloth and some miscellaneous toiletries, pointed her in the direction of the guest bedroom and hugged and kissed her goodnight.

Laura slipped off her pumps and pulled her little black dress over her head. She watched in the mirror as the satiny dress came off and decided she did look good naked as she ran her hands over her belly and breasts, stopping to thumb a nipple - and then pulling it until she sucked in a breath with a hiss.

She went to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and washed her face again but decided to try an experiment on Joanne. Since Joanne liked Laura's natural scent, Laura would see just how far she liked it. Laura decided not to shower or even give herself a "sink bath" by washing her underarms and sex standing at the bathroom sink with a washcloth. She thought she was a bit ripe from the evening's activities and the 85 degree/80 percent humidity of an early summer Kansas City night but... Maybe that was just her "good girl" perception or maybe Joanne was a whole lot kinkier that Laura could begin to imagine. Laura would find out that both would be true.

She pulled her hair back loosely and put it in a scrungy. She slipped under the covers of the bed and turned out the bedside lamp but she couldn't sleep. The softness of the bed and the coolness of the sheets against her skin (she never slept in the nude) did nothing but add to the turmoil roiling through her mind and body.

Laura sat up in bed and without turning on the light she got up and padded across the thick carpet. She stopped midway to the chair where her dress laid; she was suddenly struck by the feel of the carpet against the soles of her feet and the way her breasts felt as they moved freely with her body. She'd never really taken notice. Laura started again for the chair and picked up her dress from the evening. She held it up by the shoulders to figure out its orientation. Once she'd figured out front from back she pressed her nose into the front of the dress at the level of her sex. It was her scent.

At first she was repulsed by the salty/tangy smell of her own musk mixed with sweat but then she pressed the dress into her face and held it there, closing her eyes and slowly deep breathing. She finally pulled the dress away from her face and held it against her body.

She liked it.

And for the first time in her 24 years of marriage she understood why Sam loved to smell her panties. She giggled quietly. Sheesh! Men! They really are dogs, she thought with a laugh.

Then, she held the dress out at arms' length and turned it so that the back was facing her. She hesitated for a moment and then quickly pressed the dress to her face and inhaled.

She found the slightly damp, very aromatic place where, in the sexual heat of the scene in the parking garage, Joanne had actually pulled her dress up and pressed her bare sex against Laura's hip and humped against her.

Oh God! Oh MY GOD! I like it! Laura's mind screamed. She was turned on by another woman's scent! Laura felt the familiar flush spreading up her chest and face, her sex filling and lubricating and her nipples engorging. She couldn't believe it. Did this mean she really was a lesbian or bisexual or just some silly woman who didn't really know anything about her own sexuality? Oh God! she didn't know what to think of that.

Oh well, she thought as she pressed the dress to her face again; her nose in the center of the damp spot as she rubbed her cheeks with the soft, cool material and fantasized being between Joanne's long legs. Then another thought came to her.

Laura took the dress away from her face, bowed her legs a bit and squatted slightly. She put her arms around the high back chair and pressed her mons against the upholstered edge of the high back sitting room chair.

Joanne had not been the first person to dry hump her; Sam had - sort of. When they going steady, Laura adamantly refused to even allow Sam to pet her when they were alone and kissing. But one night, Sam pressed her against the fender of her car and with a leg between her thighs, pressed tightly to her crotch, he humped against her while kissing her - feverishly – and whispering "dirty" things in her ear. Soon Sam ceased his humping and commanded her to get herself off.

God! She started to hump back against him!

That was her first orgasm ever with a man or any other person, for that matter.

Laura slowly undulated her hips against the chair, the trim of the upholstery providing a pleasantly rough surface working her clit up and down, sliding between her sex lips - getting easier with each pass as Laura got wetter - and rubbing her belly.

She smiled in the darkness then grunted as the upholstery had hit an especially sensitive spot sending waves up through her belly.

Sam knew what a "sexual animal" she was. Oh, yes, Sam knew. And, like a hunter, he pursued her and captured her. She'd never thought of it in those terms before. But now, she understood. Now she knew. She liked the thought.

As Laura's orgasm started to build she started making a series of small, high pitched, fluttering cries. Joanne, standing outside the bedroom door, heard the cries start and crescendo and then, moments later, the silence (she couldn't hear Laura's panting through the door). She smiled, pressed her hand and her forehead against the door and desperately wished she could go inside and hold her - and then make her come, again, and again, and as many times she could stay awake. That will come soon enough, you randy old bitch, Joanne told herself as she walked down the hall to her room.

Laura's orgasm was so intense she simply slid down the chair and lay on her back, panting. Her legs spread obscenely. She fell asleep there.

~~~~~~~~~

Joanne closed the door of her bedroom, kicked off her heels, pulled the spaghetti straps of her black satin sheath off her shoulders and shimmied out of it, leaving it in a puddle on the floor. She flopped down on her bed like a teenager; happy about the night had gone, except for the bizarre presence of the two women. She picked up the phone and dialed Marci's cell.

The cell answered but before anyone spoke Joanne said, "That was some performance tonight, love. More than I expected."

"Why thanks Annie, I always aim to please. When do I get to sink my cock into that sumptuous ass of yours?"

Joanne laughed hesitantly, not that big of fan of David. "David, how are you? We'll have to work out an appointment; I'd love to have you sodomize me after seeing you in action tonight," she lied. "Ah, where's my pet?"

"Oh, she's in the back seat, her face shoved in the seat as that little blond bitch fucks her with an absolute fucking monster of a strapon."

"Ah," Joanne wished she could see that. "Who in the hell were those two women? I think my girl's a bit shell shocked by it all, especially when that little Dyke came on to her."

David laughed, "Sorry, Annie, Marci thought she'd surprise you and add a touch of kinkiness. The older woman is Marci's secretary, Jennifer. She's in her late 30's. They get together at least three or four times a week. The little Dyke, as you call her, is Jennifer's bitch. Marci and I are discussing bringing her into our little family. And after tonight, shit!"

"Jesus David, is she even of legal age?"

"Barely. She's 19. She's an art student at the Art Institute.

"Christ, another one." Joanne said in a low voice.

"Beg pardon?"

"Oh, nothing David. Tell Marci to give me a call tomorrow."

"Will do."

"And thanks for the show."

"Our pleasure."

~~~~~~~~~~

Joanne showered, poured herself a nightcap, checked her email and then remembered Sam down in Baton Rouge. She looked at the clock. It was going on two and Sam said to call whatever the hour but Joanne knew he'd be occupied.

Still, she called his hotel room and got voice mail. She called back to the front desk and asked to be put through. The phone rang six times before the receiver clattered a few seconds and then thumped to the floor. Joanne smiled.

Oh please...please don't leave me like this... Joanne heard 36 year old Charlotte Aimee Simone Sarazin begging Sam not to leave her, probably without an orgasm. 36 years old and a protégé of Joanne Durham, "CASS," Ms. Sarazin's nickname among her friends and family, was, with Sam's help, going to be the next Justice to sit on the Louisiana State Supreme Court in New Orleans.

Joanne heard the familiar crack of leather on naked skin and then frantic faux whispers of "yes" and "please, more." A thrill ran through Joanne's body as she wished she were on the other end of Sam's lash. But she would be would be soon enough. She smiled, whispered, "Goodnight my Master, my lover," and hung up.

~~~~~~~~~~

By a quarter of nine the next morning Joanne had finished her first cup of coffee and cigarette. She sat in the breakfast nook in her terrycloth robe and wondered what the day would be like. She lit another cigarette, made a call to Rico, one of Allyson's two husbands, then poured a cup of coffee and went to the guest room.

Joanne made a risky decision about the seduction and debauchery of Laura. She prayed that it would work.

She knocked gently on the door. There was no answer so she quietly opened the door. Looking like Venus in repose, an arm over her breasts and a hand covering her sex, Laura was still asleep on the floor. Joanne sat the coffee cup next to Laura's head and then sat on the floor next to her, watching her sleep.

Shortly Laura stirred, awakened by the aroma of the coffee.

"Hey," Joanne said.

"Ummmm," Laura stretched long and slowly then smiled, "hello!"

"I guess, since you are naked, laying on the floor of my guest room, we can't write off yesterday as some sort of dream or nightmare, eh?"

"Uh, no."

"So, how are you this morning?"

"Good, I think."

"Feel like letting me know what are relationship is?"

Laura hesitated a moment and looked away from Joanne, "Well, I'm still working for you, at least if you want me to. And I'm flattered by your feelings but...this is all so strange to me...Joanne," Laura moaned, "I don't know what to tell you.

"I'm laying on the floor, naked before you. I haven't showered since yesterday morning and I am a bit musky. I thought you'd just take me and that would settle things."

Joanne raised her eyebrows, "Take you?" she asked.

"Yeah. I don't know what to do." Laura spread her legs wide for Joanne sending up a cloud of her own pheromones. "You're bigger than me. You're older than me. If you want me, why don't you just force me?"

"Ah. I see. No, Laura," Joanne's tone was direct but gentle, "I will not take you without your express approval. I need to know you need me and want me, even if just a little to begin with. de Sade took his victims. That's a very important distinction between the Marquis and me: my pleasure comes from mutually agreed upon love and lust. I get no pleasure from taking someone against their will."

Laura started to protest that it really wasn't against her will but Joanne held up a hand. "I need you to accept me as I accept you. Just because we might have a dominant/submissive relationship, my lovers are all either my equals or close to it."

"As tempting as you are laying there," Joanne's voice now took on a feral thickness of lust. She looked at the ceiling and breathed a long sigh, "You little cunt," Joanne hissed, her eyes penetrating and angry, "you have no fucking idea what I could do to you right now, what I want to do to you right now.

"I want to hear you scream as I rape you with a dildo that I wager is twice as big as Sam's cock (Joanne, of course, knew it was.) I want to fuck you bloody and then I want to hear you beg me, you fucking little slut, for more when I pull it out of your raw pussy and violated ass.

"I want to see your fresh face and wild red hair between my thighs, sucking my most sensitive flesh until I come and my cum runs down your chin and throat and down your breasts!

"I want to take you to my "playroom," put a noose around that beautiful neck of yours and hoist you up on your toes just enough so that you are on the edge of consciousness! And then I'll whip that porcelain skin on your back and ass while you dangle until your skin is raw and then sodomize you with an even bigger dildo until you scream your undying love for me; that you'll be my slave, my bitch, my fucktoy for the rest of your life while you gasp for air, you stupid little cunt tease!" Joanne heard the anger and lust echo in her voice. God damn it! She had gotten herself so aroused and had gotten sloppy. Oh SHIT! she cursed herself in her mind.

Laura's eyes were huge. Her voice cracked, and then she barely whispered, "Then do it." Laura spread her legs and held out a breast in offering to Joanne.

Joanne reached out and caressed the soft skin atop the proffered breast and then traced her fingertips over across Laura's breastbone and hefted and caressed the other small breast. Then she ran her fingertips along Laura's soft inner thigh, eliciting a moan from Laura. But then Joanne gently pushed Laura's thighs together and pulled Laura's hand away from Laura's breast.

"You think," Joanne began slowly and softly as if she were talking to a small child, "that if I force myself on you then you're not responsible. And while that's a fun scenario to play out, it's not love. I don't think you understand that I love you and that while your sexuality is driving me to distraction, sex does NOT fulfill my need for a spiritual and emotional connection to you and never will. Sex, while I consider it very sacred, sometimes even a transcendent transport into realms most humans never know, is still only an animal action without love."

Tears were welling up in Joanne's eyes. She reached out and cupped Laura's face with her hand. Her voice was trembling. "Laura, my love, you see what appetites I have. They may sound cruel and depraved but I guarantee you I can make you love the kind of things I can do to you. But, uh, something else you have to understand is," Joanne looked up at the ceiling and took another deep breath, fighting for control, "it's, uh, Laura, I will not be unfaithful to those whom I am in faithful relationships with.

"I have made those same cries that I want to hear come from your lips - that I'll be a bitch and a fucktoy and a slave to a man who is my lover. I'd marry him if I could but I can't - at least not now, not yet. And even if our plans to bring me into his family by bringing in his wife, I still can't marry him legally.

"He's really the first man I've truly loved since my husband died. And I have a host of other people, believe it of not, around the world who are bound to serve me; to be my slaves, bitches, fucktoys. I love them too and I will not violate the trust and love I have long established with them.

"Telling me to just do it is not enough. You have to come to me and then I'll do lots more than take you, believe me."

Tears were running down Laura's cheeks. What she could not bring herself to say now and what she could not tell Joanne at the restaurant was that she was falling deeply in love with her; that even the kinky sex - though sometimes the thought of it frightened her to her core - appealed to her. She wanted to surrender to Joanne, to Sam and not have any worries, if she understood what Joanne was offering.

But.

Like Joanne, she would not be unfaithful to Sam. And she didn't have the foggiest idea how any of this squared with God whom she had given her life to.

Haltingly she said, "I, uh ...Joanne, help me...I can't be unfaithful to Sam. I can't be unfaithful to God."

Joanne touched Laura's face again, in a whisper filled with sadness Joanne gently said, "I know. I know, baby. But you need to sort all that out. Get it square in your heart and conscience." Joanne wiped the tears from Laura's face. Laura caught Joanne's hand by the wrist and kissed it repeatedly, feverishly. Joanne knew Laura was on the brink but Laura could not confess her love for Joanne.

All right then, time to roll the dice and hope I don't crap out, Joanne thought. She stood up and held out her hand to Laura. When Laura was on her feet Joanne hugged her, nuzzled her neck and kissed it, inhaling Laura's ripe scent.

"I love your scent this morning, by the way."

Laura smiled, "I was hoping you would."

"Listen, I thought we'd do the spa thing again but something's wrong with the hot tub. Why don't you go to the kitchen and get something to eat and then Allyson's husband, Rico, will give us massages - and don't worry, he'll absolutely love the way you smell. I have to go down and see what's wrong with the tub."

"Okay. Uh, should I go, uh, you know, naked downstairs?"

"Sure, dear. I'll see the workman goes out another way. We'll be alone except for Rico."

As Laura headed down the stairs for the kitchen Joanne turned and pressed her face, breasts and hands to the wall.

She felt lost and it was a bit unnerving to her. She was always in control, always knew the right things to say and do and yet with Laura... Dear God, if she ended up screwing this up she had no idea what to tell Sam. He would be furious, she was certain.

She was on the verge of hyperventilating; she felt dizzy and there was a huge convention of butterflies in her stomach. She had never felt so out of control emotionally or sexually since her husband started her debauchery, training her to be a pleasure slave, doing, what she thought then were unspeakably depraved things - and hating them. How far she had come, she thought as she reflected on the dark pleasures she craved and enjoyed with abandon.

She was going to have Rico push Laura, maybe let him fuck her - no, not fuck her, that was Sam's call. She was going to "guilt" Laura into submission. Something her husband had done to her at the height of her own vulnerability.

Joanne despised that sort of head game - and her husband for doing it to her; she swore to herself and the woman who lead her and mentored into discipleship to Christ that she would NEVER do what her husband had done to her to another living soul.

During the weeks of this psychological torment and for weeks afterward she was in an emotional and spiritual vacuum, numb inside, dead inside. Through all the gang rapes, the whippings, the psychological abuse and all the other tortures, which even the Marquis de Sade may have even found perverted, it was as if she were outside of her body.

She lost 30 pounds and when she wasn't being used by her husband or her "trainers" - or toward the end of that period, being force fed and bathed because she had given up on life – she laid, collared and chained, in a fetal position in the corner of her room.

She eventually forgave her husband for his brutality in her training and after a short while she did not notice the emotional scars because she did love her husband and she did love the sexual creature he turned her into.

Laura was, sexually and emotionally, extremely fragile now. She was almost out of control, hanging on to a mental facade of propriety and morality by a thread, an increasingly weak thread at that. Playing on her guilt, that she was being unfaithful in her devotion to her husband and God, cutting the thread that held that last bit of control Laura was holding onto might send her over a psychological and spiritual edge, much deeper and sharper than Joanne remembered experiencing herself. She wondered how badly she would damage Laura if that happened and she shuddered. But...she wanted her, wanted to possess her, even if it met hurting her. God! Maybe she had let herself and her lusts go too far. Oh God. she thought again. Sam.