The Battered Lamp Chapter Eleven: The Heart of the Warrior - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Chapter Eleven: The Heart of the Warrior

... comforting arm around her mom's shoulders, leaning in to kiss her on the cheeks. “You know how we work. I took you as my prize, and our daughter has taken this girl as hers.” “You didn't tie me up!” “I would have if you were not so willing,” purred Mother, then she licked Mom's cheek. “Come on, I need satisfaction. Let us leave our daughter to her fun.” “Okay,” Mom meekly answered, and let herself be led upstairs. Her bedroom was on the first floor, and Britney marched Phillipa through the living room and a short hallway to reach it. Her room was neat and orderly, and she shoved the bound girl onto her bed, then pulled off her dirty top and wiggled out of her pants; her cock rose up hard from her thick, brown bush. Instead of having a clitoris, Britney had a cock, though no balls, and beneath it was a fully functional pussy. Phillipa's eyes were locked on her dick. “Do you like it?” Phillipa shook her head. “You will.” She licked her lips and the bound girl recoiled from her hunger; it made her cock harder. Britney went to her closet, and pulled out a plain, cardboard box. Phillipa's fear grew as Britney took out the objects one at a time: a leather flail, a wooden paddle, a carefully coiled hemp rope, nipple clamps, pink-furred handcuffs, a ball gag, a butt plug, a leather collar, iron rings, and piercing needles. Britney savored the scent of her fear, aching to stroke her cock and finger her pussy. Not yet. “I have been dreaming of the day when I found my prize,” Britney ...

... purred. “I would never have thought it would be you, Phillipa. But seeing you shivering in fear awakened something inside me.” She walked to the girl, removing her gag. “What are you going to do to me?” shivered Phillipa. “I'm going to break you and tame you.” She untied Phillipa's bounds. The girl tried to run; Britney's hand shot out and grasped the girl by the shoulder, yanking her back to the bed. Then she ripped the girl's blouse, the fabric easily tearing beneath Britney's strength. “Help!” Phillipa cried. “Someone, help me!” “No one can hear you,” purred Britney. “Well, my mothers can, but they will not help you. Britney admired her round breasts with upswept, pink nipples. Then she tore the pants off the girl, leaving her naked and trembling on her bed while she fetched the rope. She had always wanted to tie up a woman—she had seen her mother tie up her mom many times—and her hand trembled as she loped complicated knots around Phillipa's legs, up her torso, around her breasts, squeezing them together—so pretty—then binding her arms to her side, her hands at the small of her back. “You are such a gorgeous creature,” Britney purred, stroking her dark hair. “Please,” sobbed Phillipa. “Let me go. I won't tell.” “Yes, you will.” “I'll curse you,” she hissed. “Hecate...” Britney slapped her. “You will not pray to that foul goddess without my permission.” She drew in her breath, glaring at Britney. So she slapped Phillipa harder, reddening her cheeks. A tear ran down the ...