Chapter 10: The party at the intern’s

Once they were at Leila’s apartment she could feel things would take a nastier turn. The place was small but new and clean, much better than her own room in college. There was little furniture besides the bed, a few chairs, a table and a very large TV mounted on the wall. A few textbooks were strewn on the ground; a floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the city. Leila removed her coat and heels and fell giggling on her bed, with a heavy white comforter and no headboard. He sat on a chair by the table, which was covered in dirty tableware, empty bottles, some mail. She stood by the TV.

“Undress,” he told her. She unbuttoned her shirt and removed it. For an absurd moment, standing there in her skirt and bra with her shirt in her hand, she wondered where to put it down. The table was covered in junk, and there was nothing lese beside her except the television...

Finally she bent and placed it on the ground, carefully. Then she removed her bra, as she had many times before, not as shamed as the first times, but a little upset that a girl now was leering at her. When she bent again to deposit it over the shirt, her small pale breasts hung under her chest, and she could feel Leila’s eyes on their pink points. At first her intern had been giggling to see her humiliated, but now she had grown silent, attentive.

She staggered a little and put her hand on the wall to keep her balance while she raised her foot. “No,” he ordered, “keep your shoes.”

She unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall to the ground, stepped out of it. All that was left was her panties. He put her thumbs in the waistband, pulled down. She stepped out of them and stood, forcing herself to look in front of her, as he liked. Leila rose hesitantly and glanced at him.

“Go ahead,” he said. “She’ll obey you like you she obeys me.” Leila walked to her, hesitated a while, and then slapped her and watched her reaction, afraid despite his reassurances. She straightened up and tasted blood in her mouth and did nothing else, and then Leila giggled happily and kissed her, several times, little pecks at first then longer, more intense smouches full of spirit. Leila stopped, and looked surprised at her own daring, and then caught the small, pale breasts in front of her, and handled them with naïve roughness, squashing the soft flesh, pinching and twisting the nipples.

Finally Leila stepped back and bent forward to examine her crotch, giggling again at the silver loop in her clitoris that kept her slit always ajar, under the blonde flame of her trimmed pubes. She did not look down, but felt her breathless intern grab each lip between two fingers and spread them apart breathlessly, carefully, as if the female thing at her disposal disgusted and intimated her a little. She had learned to obey even wordless orders; she spread her legs outward to facilitate the inspection, while keeping her torso upright. She expected a nailed finger inside, merciless and clumsy, but Leila just stared at her pink, wet flesh, flicked the obscene jewels nailed through her, moved to watched her exposed clitoris so close that she could feel the warm breath over it.

“Hard to think this is how mine look.” “Is it?” he asked. “It looks different, seen up close. I’m not sure I want to go with it.” “That’s your choice to make. Of course, if you don’t do it now, when it’s the safest, well, when will you?” “Yes. You’re right.”

Leila stepped away to her bed and undressed, without sensuality, tossing her clothes to the floor, turning her back to him while he was opening ogling her. Her breasts were massive, tipped with wide brown areolas. Her buttocks were big too, already strewn with stretch marks, and her belly was little flabby. When the girl hopped on the bed, he could see her crotch was fully shaven.

“Comme and ... be nice to me, with your mouth,” Leila told her, weirdly reluctant to use the word. She approached, knelt at the foot of the bed, bent between the spread legs; he was standing behind her, observing. Leila’s naked pubis was plump like too, the brown thick lips opened around a pink, odorous hole. The very sight revulsed her. Still, she had to obey. She pulled her tongue out, closed her eyes, then remembered to keep them open. With a small shudder she licked the intern’s moist lips; they tasted like game stew she had tasted as a child, at a country cousin’s. The intern’s vaginal opening heaved and gaped; she was not even sure was a hymen looked like, but it seemed it was gone.

“Not so bossy now, boss,” Leila said. “Take care of my clit.” It was like his penis, she thought. She did it for him, even if she did not enjoy it; and eventually he would get his semen in her, just enough to both whet and soothe her lust for it. She took the big, fleshy lump between her lips, and ran her tongue carefully over it, again and again, until the muscles at its back actually hurt. Drool seeped from her numb mouth, and Leila’s clitoris hardened and grew a little.

“Sixty-nine,” the intern commanded. She rose on her hands and knees, pivoted and presented her abused crotch to the cruel young girl. Fingers entered her, scrapping careless nails on her vulnerable inside. A few times she felt a tongue passing briefly on her, so light she could not even tell where exactly. Mostly Leila kept touching and prodding the different parts of her vulva, with childish nastiness. When she felt something enter her anus, she tensed.