Chapter 35 – Paris gets Grace off

“So, after I came, he just held me on the desk for a good five minutes. He kept his hand on my ass, moving it around, petting me there, caressing me, but he took his fingers out of my mouth and used that hand to lightly stroke my hair. He was murmuring something but there was a loud ringing in my ears that kept me from hearing what he was specifically saying. After a while, when my breathing returned to normal, he finally let me up and told me to go clean myself up in the bathroom.”

Sitting on the couch in my long comfy nightshirt, my legs curled up under me, with Grace sitting next to me, I’m finally starting to feel closer to normal. I’m so grateful she let me just sit here and explain what happened without interrupting or making me look at her. Just feeling her hug, me with one arm and occasionally pull a strand of hair out of my face makes me feel safe.

My voice, by now, was clear since I’d told all the worst parts of this story. “I cleaned myself up as best I could. My makeup was ruined, with the mascara running down my cheeks, but I got it back in order. When I stepped out of the bathroom he was there, acting like nothing strange had happened. Like he hadn’t just bent me over his desk and…” my throat just freezes up as I can’t make myself say the words. ‘bent me over his desk and finger fucked me until I screamed and came’. It made me feel so small. So weak. So… so… girly. After a moment’s hesitation I just drop the thought and move on, “…and, yeah. He even asked me if I wanted a ride home. I knew he wanted to do it. To haver me sit demurely next to him in his big Mercedes, but I was finally able to tell him no.”

I finally look up and take a deep breath. I don’t feel any stronger or more myself after telling Grace all about what happened, but I feel better. “Anyway, we took the elevator down and I got off in the lobby while he continued down to the garage. I took the train home, and you know what happened since.”

As I turn to face Grace, a smile coming over my face for the first time in hours, I freeze in place. Grace is looking at me, but where I expected her friendly or sisterly or even motherly side to be showing, caring for me, making me feel better, I see something entirely different. I see Grace looking over me with the same lust in her eyes as Mal had. She’s chewing absently on her lower lip, and I notice her hand hugging around me is rubbing up and down on my arm.

My telling of this evening’s events didn’t make her concerned. It turned her on.

Before I can even ask what she’s thinking Grace uses her arm around me to suddenly hold me still as she comes in to aggressively kiss me. I barely get a soft questioning “Hey” out before Grace’s lips are against mine, soon followed by her tongue forcing its way between my lips. I let out a low moan that sounds damned similar to when Mal’s fingers first brushed over my pulled back penis and it’s matched by an aggressive possessive groan from Grace. I feel my arms twitching with the same indecision that I’m feeling inside. On the one hand, Grace is a beautiful strong woman. I’ve always been attracted to her and the only reason I hadn’t pursued anything is that she’s a complete lesbian with no interest in men. But I’d dreamed of ‘fucking her straight’ on more than one occasion. On the other hand, this felt far too much like Mal’s treatment of me. I wasn’t being consulted or asked what I wanted. I wasn’t even given the chance to consent to this treatment. This wasn’t me ‘fucking her straight’ it was her ‘kissing me into her girl’.

When Grace finally breaks the kiss and pulls away, I see that her arousal hasn’t diminished in the least. If anything, it’s grown. I’m just shocked silent and can’t say anything as she smiles and repositions herself by throwing one leg over my lap and lowering herself onto me. I may not have my gaff on but with my legs folded up under me and Grace now sitting on my lap, my penis is just as trapped even though it’s trying its best to get hard.

Clearing my throat, I try to say something, but Grace immediately shushes me, “Shhh… my girl has said too much. The big bad man made you feel all funny and strange. I’ll make you feel better. Just us girls here now sweety!”

In two swift graceful motions Grace slips out of her baggy sweatshirt and her bra, leaving her cute barely B cup breasts swaying right in front of my face. Leaning forward, she directs one of her nipples right to my mouth and brushes it along the edges of my puffy pink lips. When I don’t make any move she actually giggles, “Aww, don’t be shy sweety. You know you want to make me feel good. Lick me!”

She doesn’t wait to see if I comply and instead reaches behind me and takes an aggressive hand hold of my hair to pull my head forward. At first, I still deny opening my mouth even as her breast presses and crushes against it but when she commands again, this time louder and more forcefully, “Open UP!” I do so.

Grace’s moan fills the room as her nipple slips in between my lips. I don’t wait for further commands and instead start licking at her. I love licking and sucking on and tasting a woman’s nipples and breasts. Hearing them coo and moan at my touch is just so magnetic and makes me feel so powerful. But this isn’t that. This is her directing me to lick and suck at her nipple. Grace is sitting on me, is holding my hair, is directing my face, is in command.

For a good half hour Grace sits on me and directs me in how to please her. The only time she lets go of my hair is the one time I try to assert myself, to lean forward and push her off. I get my hands on her waist, feeling her silky-smooth skin covering her sinewy strong core muscles, but that’s as far as I get. Grace with a giggle and a light grunt reaches down, takes my wrists, and seems to easily pull my arms behind my back. With a push of her torso against mine, she pushes me back into the couch trapping my own arms behind me. Then before I can even wonder just how strong Grace is, she has a handful of my hair again and is directing my mouth back to her nipples. Except this time, she keeps leaning forward, pushing me into he couch cushions and making sure my arms remain locked and useless behind me.

She actually trapped me more effectively than Mal did.

After Grace is satisfied with me licking and kissing and sucking on her nipples, her breasts, her chest, her neck, her lips and mouth, and anything else she puts in front of me, she stands up in a sudden huff.

I’ve never seen Grace this turned on before. Standing in front of me wearing just her panties, her hair pulled back in a quick ponytail, and my lipstick marks all over her breasts, she’s like a damned Goddess hovering above me. With an almost masculine grunted “C’mon!” she reaches down and takes a handful of my hair again, this time using it to lead me behind her. I don’t put up any resistance, completely lost as to what’s going on.

Grace leads me into her bedroom and practically has me run and jump face first onto her bed. I can’t even think about turning over before she jumps onto my back, pushing her hard nipples into my back and straddling my faja enhanced ass. After a long lick to my ear she whispers, “When you’re in here, you’re my girl. MY GIRL. My girls don’t speak. They do what I tell them to do. Do you understand Paris?”

I can only nod, feeling turned on and aroused even though I’m thoroughly confused. Grace knows I’m not a girl. Right?

My confusion clears up quickly as Grace sits upright and spins around so that she’s facing down my legs. With soft but insistent touches and pushes she spreads my legs apart enough that she can reach into my panties and work at tucking me away. In short order my balls are pushed up into me and my penis is pulled back between my thighs. Once she’s satisfied that I’m secure, Grace has me clamp my thighs closed and gives my ass a possessive spank before rolling me over onto my back.

With my panties pulled up tight, it’s going to take a lot to get me free and displaying anything other than a smooth panty front for Grace’s inspection. She doesn’t seem to care any more about that though, as if making me feminine down there was more for me, as she crawls up my body and without hesitation lowers her wet dripping pussy over my mouth.

I feel Grace’s hand slide over my forehead and into my hair until she has another grip enough to control my head and pull me tight up against her intimate with the one hand and slide her silk panties out of the way with the other. Her husky voice issues the simple command, “Lick!”

And for the next thirty minutes or so I do just that. I lick. I suck. I kiss. I rub. I please. I give pleasure to the woman who up until a few hours ago was only my roommate. The frustrating thing is that I truly enjoy pleasing her. No, I don’t have control or agency in this action as she’s directing my motions and commanding my actions, but it lets me just let go and focus on what she wants. On what makes her feel good. After using my mouth to tease herself for what feels like a long, long time, Grace’s whole body stiffens up and trembles in a surprisingly quiet orgasm. She lets out the most adorable little squeaks and quiet cries as if she daren’t let any noise out, all the while pulling me suffocatingly against her.

When her orgasm ends, Grace releases me and crawls off the bed saying over her shoulder, “Stay put, girly!” as she steps into the bathroom.

While Grace cleans up and composes herself, I simply lay there and try to figure out what’s happened. The two interactions couldn’t be further apart. Mal held me down and **** me to experience an orgasm. He didn’t give me a choice and just pushed me into that feeling, making me feel as feminine as I’d ever been. Grace though held me down and **** me to give her an orgasm. She didn’t give me a choice and just pushed me into that role, making me feel as feminine as I’d ever been.

And thinking it out that way made me realize that while the interactions were radically different, they were at some level, mirrors of each other. They were a person in a superior role, pushing me into a submissive role and doing whatever they wanted with me. One giving pleasure, one taking pleasure. And yes, while both situations made me feel more feminine than before, they also made me feel small. Weak. Submissive. Even thinking back, did I try to stop Mal with my hands once he had me held down on his desk? Or did my arms just lay next to my body uselessly? Did I try to stop Grace with my hands once she lowered herself over my face? Or did my arms just lay next to my body uselessly? In both moments I didn’t want what was happening but at the same time, I can’t act like I tried to stop it. On some level, I just accepted it.

When Grace comes back in, I prop myself up on an elbow and look at her expectantly, not yet wanting to push any boundaries. Not even the one where “Her girls don’t speak”. But instead of her dismissing me back to my room she shuffles me to one side of her queen-sized bed and slips us both under the covers. Without a word said or any allowance for me to clean myself up, Grace turns the light off and wraps her arm around me possessively before falling into a deep sleep. It takes me almost a full hour to get my racing mind to calm down enough to get to sleep, and by that time Grace’s slumbering body has practically crawled over me with her leg wrapping around my waist and her arm pulling mine up to my large fake breasts and holding me there.

When the alarm goes off and wakes both Grace and I up, I don’t have any time to try and recall the night before and am instantly thrust back into the role that Grace put me in. The role of her submissive lover. With a slap to my big rounded faja enhanced ass, Grace murmurs “Mmm… get up and get around girly. I’ll be up soon and want coffee and a muffin.”

A glance at the clock shows that Grace had set the alarm for my normal wake up time. The fact that I was getting up before her, getting cleaned up, and preparing breakfast wasn’t anything new. It was our standard routine, even on the weekend. But today it felt different. I wasn’t doing this because it was what was normal, I was doing it because it’s what Grace set up. It’s what Grace specifically wanted. Ordered.

When Grace finally came out of the bedroom I had already cleaned up fully. I’d removed the faja Columbiana, showered, lotioned all of my skin, and after some consideration, put my other faja on. I have no desire to wear this whole get up all weekend… having to wear the breast forms and the bra are bad enough… but I feel that Grace and I need to talk, and I need to be fully Paris in order to do so. When she takes a seat at the table, I only hesitate a moment before getting up to pour her a cup of coffee and get her a muffin before sitting back down. Even this was different. Yes, I made the coffee. Yes, I got the muffins ready for breakfast. But before Grace would at least pour her own cup and grab her own breakfast. Now it seems she wants me to directly serve her.

As Grace picks pieces of her muffin off and slowly eats them she smiles and looks at me. I don’t see any malice or ill will in her eyes, but there is still a strong intensity, and a look that I’ve never seen directed at me before. A possessive look. Her words send thrills up and down my spine and I honestly can’t say whether I’m afraid of what she means, or if I’m looking forward to what she’s saying, “Paris, I think we’re going to have a very fun time in our new relationship!”