The Lesbian Nights Pt. 04

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This story had stalled out on me. I knew that I needed to wrap it up, but after the last chapter, I didn't know where to go with it, so I wrote some other stories instead. Like Catherine, I needed a little time away from Kelly. But, when she came back to me, her character told me exactly what to write. This story is shorter and with a little bit less sex, but it reveals more than any of the stories I've written who Kelly is. Enjoy!

Note 1: This is a work of fiction and the characters depicted herein are purely figments of my own imagination; any resemblance to any other persons, real or fictional, is entirely coincidental and unintended. And, on the advice of a good friend, this work is copyrighted. To me. I own this, so don't steal it.

Note 2: This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults. Although entirely fictional, the characters are all over the age of 18.

Note 3: This story includes themes that involve kink and light S&M. If such themes bother you or offend you, feel free to pass.

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It had been over a week since Catherine D'Boudec had dominated her impudent tenant in the garden and, now, once again, rent was due. In the past, Kelly had always managed to use her raw sexuality to captivate and confuse her, like a sort of mystical snake charmer. Catherine, with her deeply repressed lesbian desires, had been reduced to putty in Kelly's hands and Kelly had used that to her advantage.

This last episode, however, was the most debauched and debasing sexual experience Catherine had ever participated in. But, unlike her previous encounters with Kelly, this one had brought Catherine down into the depths of her depravity and afterward, she was forced to re-examine herself. The next morning, when Catherine had looked at herself in the mirror, she'd had to come face to face with who she was and what she was. Her feeble attempts to deny her own desires had made her weak and easy to manipulate. Yes, Catherine was still going to have to "behave herself" in this conservative little village, but now she could accept herself and find ways to seek out the pleasures she wanted without doubting herself. She had had a breakthrough and now, uninhibited and freed of her own emotional chains, she was brimming with new confidence. This time, when she went to collect the rent, if Kelly wanted to fuck her sideways, great. But the manipulative little tramp would still have to pay.

That evening, Catherine strode confidently up the path to the little cottage at the far end of the property that she rented to the American student. Kelly's bicycle was leaning against the shed and there was a light on inside. Catherine knocked forcefully at the door. "Allo! Bon soir! Je suis venu pour le loyer!" She called out. "The rent is due, Mademoiselle Kelly!"

For a few moments, there was no response. Then, Catherine heard a voice call out from somewhere inside. "I'm not decent!" came Kelly's voice. "Donnez-moi dix minutes. I will come up to the house."

Catherine sighed. "Not likely," she thought to herself. Catherine made her way back to the main house. It was early evening. The tourist season had ended by now and the main house was empty of guests. Autumn in Bretagne was usually cool, windy and grey, but this week, the region was experiencing a rare spot of warm, sunny weather. The low angle afternoon sunbeams streamed through the trees, setting the autumn leaves glowing with a fire of red and gold lights intermingled with a dapple of shadows. A warm breeze rustled them, making the lights and shadows dance.

The old chateau loomed especially large now that it was empty. Catherine entered and crossed the towering, vaulted entrance hall. She recalled as a child how the servants would chase her around the winding corridors and cavernous chambers. There were no servants now; she was barely managing to juggle the household expenses herself without dipping into the estate trust. It had been a decent season despite the slow start and the chambre d'hote had turned a modest profit. Catherine hoped that word would spread and she'd see a steady increase in bookings over the next few years. But now it was time to settle in for the quiet part of the year. If she had made more money, she'd consider closing it up and going abroad for a few weeks, but she was determined to make a legitimate go of this business, and that meant spending the off-season on improvements and marketing.

Catherine entered the kitchen. Unlike modern houses that featured grand, luxurious kitchens with polished stone counters, tasteful recessed lighting and slick modern appliances, the chateau's kitchen hearkened back to the days when the kitchen was a strictly working operation for the household staff, kept out of sight of the owner and guests. The kitchen was located at the back of the house so that food and supply deliveries could be made via the servants' entrance. The interior access was through a hidden doorway that opened into the main dining room. Inside, it had a worn, bare stone floor, dozens of plain wooden cabinets, thick, butcher block counters and prep tables, and a deep pantry. The old wood stove had been replaced with a modern, flat-top model, and the fridge/freezer was a commercial walk-in style purchased from a restaurant that had been going out of business. In the corner was the original brick oven, but it had not been used since Catherine was a child.

It was getting late and Catherine had not eaten yet, so she decided to throw something together. She had replaced one of the rolling cart prep tables with a small dinette so that she could eat in private away from the paying guests in the dining hall and it was here that she ate most of her meals, sitting alone in silence. Catherine opened the pantry and stood staring at the nearly empty shelves. She then opened the giant commercial fridge and did the same. There was some frozen chicken.. some vegetables of unknown age, and various jars and containers with left-overs. She frowned. It was then that she heard a knock at the rear door. When she opened it, she saw Kelly standing there at the servants' entrance with a big grin and a sack of groceries.

"Est ce que vous avez mange?" She asked. "I thought you might be all alone for dinner. I am all alone also and so I thought you might let me cook for you." Catherine stood aside and allowed Kelly to enter. She wore a bright yellow sundress and a white floppy hat. She was barefoot and the way the sundress clung to her toned, fit body made Catherine suspect that she wore nothing underneath it.

Kelly set the sack on a counter and began to withdraw the contents, one by one. "Oh," she said, sounding startled. "I almost forgot. C'est pour vous," she said, handing a thick envelope to Catherine. Catherine accepted it and peered briefly inside. To her shock and surprise, it was filled with bills. She could not believe that her insubordinate tenant had actually paid the rent. Catherine positively beamed. She set the envelope aside and thanked Kelly. It was confirmation to her that she had, in fact, finally tamed the little beast. Their relationship had changed. Catherine had felt it after their last sexual encounter in the garden and so, apparently, had Kelly. She began to realize that she was the dominant one now; that she could have her way with Kelly and her tight little firecracker of a body AND get proper payment as her landlord. She relaxed back into her chair and looked on as the young girl darted around the kitchen, flitting to and fro like a little butterfly, preparing what appeared to be an elaborate evening meal.

Kelly first sliced up a baguette and coated each piece with olive oil and set it in the oven. She then tossed some chopped onions, tomato, basil and butter into a skillet. While that sizzled, she roasted several cloves of garlic in a small pan. She pulled out the lightly toasted bread and spread each piece with the roasted garlic. She then topped it with the onion-tomato mix and arranged them on a small plate. "Voila!" she said proudly. "It's just, oh... what's the word... amuse-gueules. To snack on while I cook. Peut-etre vous avez quelques van blanc? Chardonnay?"

"Mais oui!" replied the older woman, smiling to herself. "Maybe I will even teach her how to speak French properly," she thought to herself. She went down to the wine cellar and returned with a nicely chilled bottle. Kelly had shrimp sautéing in one pan while she was pouring and flipping crêpes in another. She accepted a glass of wine from Catherine and continued flitting around the kitchen. Before long, she was finished and she set the table with two plates.

"C'est mon favorite!" said Kelly. "Crêpes avec crevettes, gruyere fondu, épinards hachés, et ail." She was obviously very proud of herself and looked to Catherine for validation. Catherine took a small bite. It was amazing, practically melting in her mouth. She closed her eyes and let out a blissful sigh. Kelly clapped her hands together and said, "Oh yes! I'm so glad that you like it."

As they each tucked into their plates, Catherine casually asked, "By the way, where did you go last month when you went away for a week?"

"Last month?" replied Kelly. "Oh! Oui! I went to my friend's birthday party in Belfast. Deirdre." Kelly took another bite and then a swallow of the wine. "I thought I told you about that, no?" Catherine said that she had not and so Kelly continued. "It was the weirdest thing. It turns out that she knows Vinka."

"Vinka...?" interrupted Catherine with one raised eyebrow.

"Yes. Oui. Vinka. The woman that Lucille sent me to deliver the champagne to in Augsburg who was not there and who I never met... Don't you remember?" asked Kelly.

"Oooooohhhhh, right" replied Catherine as she searched her memory. The names from Kelly's many stories were all running together now.

"Anyway, Deirdre and I were classmates at Queens' together. I've known her for a few years, but I guess I didn't know her that well. She seems very straight laced, if you know what I mean. Very proper and very classy. I had no idea she could be mixed up with a woman like Vinka. But, when I arrived at her flat, there she was with Vinka and some other women, getting ready to go out to a club. I mean, I didn't know it was Vinka. I had never met Vinka, myself. She introduced herself to me as 'Evangelique,' but I later found out who she really was.

"The plan was to spend the weekend in Belfast and to come right back here. We were going out clubbing on Friday and then we were all going to go shopping and pamper ourselves on Saturday as a way to recover. Then, Saturday night, we were going to have the party at our friend, Holly's place out in the country. At least, that's what I thought the plan was.

"When I got there, they were already drinking and getting ready to go out. I was a little behind, so I quickly changed. I had been working so hard on my presentation for the university board, so I wanted to really let loose. I wore a skirt so short and so tight that Deirdre said she could see my freckles through it, and my top was cut low enough to let everyone know what kind of a mood I was in. We were all dressed like that -- all tarted up as Holly put it. We wanted attention and we got it. Everywhere we went that night.

"Anyway, we ended up in this rooftop club... I forget the name. I was very drunk by then. It was near Great Victoria's Street, I think. Anyway, I remember that it was very exclusive, but Evangelique... Vinka... knew someone who worked there so they let us in. It was very loud and very crowded. We all danced in a big group, but we kept getting smushed together. The dance floor was like one, big living beast. The music was its heartbeat and it seemed like we all swayed and danced and moved together in unison. After a bit, I was getting very hot and I was not feeling very steady. I needed a break. I needed to sit down. It must have been after 2:00 a.m. at that point.

"Evangelique put her arm around me and led me out of the crowd. She sat me in a booth and went to get us more drinks. When she returned, I remember telling her, "No," because I was already feeling very woozy. She told me that it was just water and that I should drink it, so I did. It was nice and cool and refreshing. I was so thankful.

"But there must have been something in it, because a few minutes later, I started to feel very dizzy. I told Evangelique that I didn't feel good and that I wanted to leave. But she just leaned forward and asked me the strangest question. She asked 'Did you bring the champagne?' I was so confused. I asked her who she was and what was happening to me. But she just said, "You know who I am. I'm Vinka.' After that, I just blacked out.

"When I woke up, I was in a barn somewhere out in the country. My head was pounding with the worst headache I have ever had. I was lying on a pile of straw and I remember a bright beam of sunlight shining through a crack in planking of the barn wall. When I looked around, I saw Deirdre nearby. She was still sleeping and she was still wearing her cocktail dress from the night before. Her makeup was smeared and her hair was a tangled mess, with random straws sticking out here and there. I realized that I looked the same. I tried to wake her, but she just grunted angrily and rolled over.

"I stood up but I almost fell over between being light-headed and still wearing my heels. I took off my shoes and walked over to the barn door. It was secured with a chain and lock and I began to get scared. I pounded on the door and screamed for someone to let me out of there. I threatened to go to the police. I screamed myself hoarse, and then I just sat down on the ground and began to cry because no one was coming. After a little while, Deirdre woke up. When I told her what was happening, she just laughed. Can you imagine that?

"Deirdre told me that she expected something like this. That this was a prank and that it was all part of a secret club that Evangelique... Vinka.... belonged to. It was very exclusive, Deirdre told me, and she said that they had chapters all over the world, even in America. Deirdre told me that she had been trying to join the club forever, but that Evangelique just told her to stop worrying. When it was time, she'd know it. Apparently, it was time. I didn't fully trust what she was telling me, but there was nothing else to do for it. If Deirdre wasn't worried, then I shouldn't be either.

Deirdre told me that, if she was right, they would not come for us until it got dark. 'So what can we do?' I asked. 'Are we supposed to just sit here in the dark all day?'

"Well,' Deirdre said. She fell back into the bale of hay and stretched out. 'I have such a headache. Today is my birthday and I know one thing that will cure this headache. Why don't you come over here and give me a nice birthday orgasm? Like you used to do.'" Deirdre knows I like boys and girls, but she only ever made passes at me when she was drinking. I actually don't like it when my straight girlfriends hit on me like that. I'm not an amusement ride. But, a few years ago on her birthday, she got very drunk and kept hitting on me, so I called her bluff. I gave her a big orgasm that night with just my hand. This was the first time she had ever come on to me when she was sober. And, she was right. We had the barn to ourselves and a lot of time to kill.

"You look like crap,' I told her. 'You look like you got drunk and slept in a barn all night. Maybe I will see if there is a pig around here and then I will fuck the pig instead.' She shrieked at me and threw a huge handful of straw at me. It got all over me and I said, 'Great, now I look like I slept in a barn, too.'

"Yeah,' she said to me. 'Now, not even the pig wants to fuck you.'

"I turned around and dropped to my knees. I pulled up my skirt so that she could see I that I was not wearing any panties. 'Come here, little piggy!' I called out. 'I have some nice pussy for you. Don't you want to fuck this nice pussy?' We both broke out laughing.

"Then Deirdre said, 'Oink oink!' And we both laughed some more. I fell over on my side. But Deirdre came over to me and said, 'Oh no you don't. Get back up on your hands and knees!' She pulled me to my hands and knees and pulled my head back by my hair. 'That's more like it,' she said. She ran her hand down my back to my skirt and lifted it up. 'Looks like you forgot something. Or, did you lose something last night while we were dancing?' She was still holding my head back with one hand while the fingertips of her other hand began to wander all over my exposed butt. 'Hmm. I wonder whose hands have been feeling up your skirt...' She traced a single fingertip down from the base of my spine through the crack of my ass and over the puckered bud of my opening. She paused at the soft, sensitive spot between my ass and my puss and began to trace tiny circles there.

"Oh fuuuuuck,' was all I said. She slapped me hard on my butt and pulled tighter on my hair, forcing me to arch my back. I winced, but I felt my cunt go wet instantly.

Deirdre felt my puss and said, 'Wow, you're wet. What a little slut!' She slapped my butt again, this time a little harder. I smiled a little bit.

"You think you're bitch enough to use me?' I taunted her.

"Oh ho!' she said. She smacked my butt again and said, 'You love this don't you, you little slut!' She felt my puss again and this time it was practically dripping down my leg. 'Your little twat is soaked! You're a very, very dirty little slut aren't you?' She spanked me again. 'You'd let that pig fuck you, wouldn't you?' A few more spanks. 'You can't wait to get fucked, can you. You're such an easy whore. Tell me that you're my slutty whore.'

"I'm your dirty, slutty whore,' I responded. She was really getting into this which meant I was in for a first class railing if I played along. Deirdre jammed two fingers deep into my wet puss without any warning. 'Jesus H. Christ! I yelled. Give a girl a little warning!'

"Shut up, whore!' she hissed and smacked my ass again. She thrust her fingers back inside me from behind and began slipping them in and out. With my back arched in that position, she was getting very deep and every time her fingers bottomed out, her knuckles banged my clit. She began to go faster and faster. I could feel my orgasm beginning to grow. Deirdre put her face next to my ear and licked me. I grunted and then, suddenly, she withdrew her fingers. 'No, no, little pig,' she whispered in my ear. 'You don't get to cum yet. Not until I cum. Do you want to suck my twat?' I said that I did. I was desperate and frustrated having been denied my orgasm. 'I get very, very wet. Do you want to lick up all my juices? Do you want to taste my dripping pussy?'

"When I begged her to let me lick her, she threw me to the ground and rolled me over onto my back. She peeled off her cocktail dress and removed her bra and thong. She threw the thong at me and said, 'Sniff that, whore!' She had been wearing them since the previous night and they smelled nasty, but I was so desperate to get off that I played along. I sniffed them and put them into my mouth, almost gagging. 'Oh, you don't like my pussy?' she asked, standing over me. 'The little pig whore doesn't like the way my pussy smells? Well, then..." she said.

"She then lay down on the straw next to me on her tummy and lifted her ass into the air. 'Then maybe you'd prefer my ass! Come here, you filthy slut, and lick my asshole!' Obediently, I removed my clothes, got up on all fours and crawled behind her. Deirdre has a lovely ass and an adorable little pink pussy with just a thin strip of hair above it. It was too tempting to pass up. I reached out and licked her entire pussy with the flat of my tongue. She immediately pulled forward and gave me a light kick in the side. 'No, slut!' she scolded me. 'Did I tell you that you could lick my cunt? Did I give you permission?' I said I was sorry and she scolded me again. 'Lick my asshole, whore, and if you're good enough, maybe I'll let you touch my cunt.'