Chapter 4
Rona slept fitfully the rest of the night. Toward dawn, she finally drifted into a heavy sleep and didn't awaken until nearly noon. When she finally did wake up, the last remembrances of her orgasm were fading behind a growing heavy guilt complex. What she had done last night was wrong, even if she had been an unwilling participant. She shuddered at the thought of Joan Sumner's wet, slimy tongue licking between her thighs. She felt dirty.
Going to the bathroom, Rona noted an assortment of various bubble bath soaps she hadn't noticed the previous night. Running a hot tub, she took care of all natural functions, then poured a heavy amount of bath salt into the hot water. She let herself sink into the soapy luxury of the hot water, hoping to cleanse the evil from inside her.
The foam felt good and she allowed herself to close her eyes. Once again, she dozed, and when she awoke she had the oddest feeling she was being watched. Still, no one was around, and she couldn't see the hidden TV camera behind the screen where warm forced air continually entered the room.
The bubble soap in her nostrils seemed to smell like spearmint. But that was crazy. Why should soap smell like spearmint?
Leaning down, she took a stronger breath. Yes, it definitely did smell like spearmint. On an impulse she dipped a finger into the suds and brought them to her mouth. They tasted like spearmint. There was no strong soapy taste, at all. Odd!
When she finally let the water out of the tub and dried herself off, Rona found she was very clean. Yet her entire body seemed to have the mint smell. Not the type to examine her vagina, she was unaware the spearmint flavoring had permeated her mucous membranes, lodging in the tender flesh of her cunt.
With the large bath towel wrapped around her, Rona left the bathroom On the dressing table across the room she found a new comb and brush, as well as an assortment of hand and face lotions to keep her skin soft and wrinkle-free. But when she checked the closet she found no clothing. There wasn't a garment of any kind to be found. Even the bedspread was gone. All she could really wear was the large white bath towel.
Ashamed, she was determined to remain in her room, not able to face anyone without clothing.
But her stomach was rumbling. She was hungry. Even if it was her day off, she knew she'd be entitled to a free breakfast at the diner, if she so chose. She was hungry. She wanted food.
Finally, after a half hour of simply sitting on her bed, Rona got up enough courage to open her bedroom door. She peered into the hall but saw no one. And she could smell the aroma of hot coffee. It made her salivary glands work overtime and she finally determined she would get something to eat.
Gingerly stepping into the hallway, she was glad the floor was covered with the same thick carpeting she had in the room where she'd spent the night. Following her nose, she finally found the kitchen, a huge room with cabinets lining all the walls.
Going to the eight-burner electrical stove, Rona found the coffee pot. A convenient cup and saucer waited on a sideboard, as if waiting for her, and she also found milk and sugar. Further examination of the kitchen revealed where Joan Sumner kept the bread, margarine, cheese and eggs, and before she realized it, Rona was cooking a large, hearty breakfast even though the hall clock was sounding one-thirty.
Rona found she was famished and began putting the food away as if it were going out of style. And when she finished, she washed the dishes she'd used and left them in the sink to drain.
With the towel still tightly wrapped around her, she walked through the rest of the house. It was a huge place with four floors, and though she hadn't intended bothering with every level, in the next hour she managed to see into every unlocked room in the house, including Joan Sumner's bedroom. The strand of black hair on one of Joan's pillowcases confirmed Rona's belief that Bob Manset shared the bed, not that Manset didn't have a bedroom of his own. Rona had found a bedroom filled with all kinds of expensive masculine clothing, colognes, and even a bookcase filled with law books. There were other bedrooms in the house as well, at the far end, with evidence that two other men were living there, too. And from the clothing Rona saw hanging in their closets, she knew they were not gentlemen. It made her wonder why someone as influential as Joan Sumner was associating with what she knew to be the hard-bitten types.
Rona had been tempted to take some of Joan's clothing and run, but Joan Sumner was much taller than she. Nothing fit, and besides, even if she did get away, where could she go? Joan Sumner controlled the police in Sumner, so she couldn't return to her boarding house for her things. And even if she could, where would she go from there? Any other nearby village was out of the question. Mrs. Sumner might have men out looking for her. Returning to her brother was unthinkable. Life with him would be even more intolerable with him calling her a whore of Babylon, or some other nonsense.
Living alone was not everything she had believed. True, she had gained her independence, but now she wondered if she had been really ready for it. If she still had at least one parent living, things might have been different. It was a lot easier to accept the authority of a parent than that of a brother. Because she was so much older, Mrs. Sumner was a mother-symbol to Rona, even if she was demanding outrageous things of the girl. Oddly, Rona found it less difficult to obey Joan Sumner's obscene requests than she'd been able to comply with her brother's ridiculous demands. Perhaps Joan Sumner had been right. Perhaps physical sin had been invented by men solely for the discomfort of women . . . especially when the men, like celibate priests, were themselves forbidden to participate. And the only women to strongly back up the priests were either nuns, who had probably never participated in such "sinful" doings, or women whose husbands had done a poor job of satisfying them. Still.. . so many people believed as her brother did. Could all those people be wrong, while Joan Sumner was right? It didn't seem logical
Her thoughts were interrupted by Joan Sumner, who met her as she walked into the living room.
"Do you like my house?" the older woman, who was once again wearing her white robe, asked.
"It's.. . very impressive," Rona admitted.
"But you still haven't seen my most interesting room," Joan told her. "Follow me."
She led Rona into the hallway, and with a key from her robe, unlocked a door Rona hadn't been able to open before. She walked down a flight of steps, and Rona, curious, followed.
Joan led the way through a huge game room where there was a pinball machine, a small bowling alley, a pool table, and a large baize card table.
"This is where I and my friends play games," Joan explained.
"You must have quite a few friends," Rona commented.
"Quite a few," Joan admitted. "And I want you to be one of them," she continued. "But I have a special room reserved for us. It's where I . . . uhh.. . played with the other three girls who stayed with me."
"How long did the other girls remain here?" Rona asked.
"Different periods of time," Joan told her. "One was here for a month, while a second was here for four months and the third girl remained for nearly half a year. It depends on the girl and the circumstances."
"And where are they now?" Rona asked as Joan unlocked another door.
"When they left here, Robert got each of them good jobs locally. Every now and again one of them stops by to visit."
"And show her gratitude?" Rona ventured as Joan turned on the light to the next room
"Is that such a terrible thing?" Joan asked, walking inside.
Rona followed. She saw a large room with off-white walls. In the center of the room was an immense bed, perhaps three times the size of an ordinary double bed.
"What kind of a room is this?" Rona asked, shuddering as Joan shut the door.
"This is also a game room," Joan smiled. "It's where you and I can have many pleasurable hours together, playing."
"Playing?" Rona asked, a shiver coursing through her as Joan approached.
"Of course," Joan nodded, reaching out and grabbing the end of Rona's toweL
This time Rona knew better than to struggle. True, she and Joan were alone. The older woman was probably testing her, seeing how she would behave. So Rona allowed Joan to gently remove the towel
"You have such a lovely body," Joan complimented. "It would be a shame for so lovely a figure to remain unused. I want to use it, but I want you to want it, as well. Even more important, I'm curious as to what you think of my body."
Without waiting for Rona to comment, Joan removed her robe. She stood as naked as the younger girl, but artfully posed, letting Rona see her from a variety of angles.
At first Rona couldn't understand why the older woman was showing herself off. She had to admit Joan had a superb figure. A teenager or a twenty year old might well be envious of the woman's body. Then it dawned on her. Joan was fascinated by her own young body, and she was hoping to arouse Rona with the sight of her more mature torso.
"Come here, Rona," Joan beckoned, lying on the bed, carelessly parting her thighs, exposing the labia between.
Rona stared at the perfection of the older woman's cunt Even the brown hair ringing the halved, pouting pussy seemed to beckon.
It's wrong, Rona thought. I mustn't do this.
In spite of herself, she was drawn to the bed, and as she got closer, she realized Joan's body emanated a strong soap scent. Like hers, it had an unusual odor to it. She smelled of spearmint, and as she neared Joan Sumner Rona realized the other woman seemed to smell of licorice.
"Don't be afraid," Joan whispered. "I won't hurt you. I want to touch you, to play with you, and I want you to play with me, in turn."
"But it's.. . unnatural," Rona protested.
"Who said so?" Joan asked. "Love is a very natural thing. Just because it isn't between a man and a woman doesn't make it any less natural or strong. Love between two women can be a most rewarding experience. There's no fear of losing your virginity with me, unless you really wish it. Then, and only then, can I use a dildo to take it from you. But equally important even if I use the dildo you can't become pregnant."
"Dildo?" Rona asked, unfamiliar with the term.
"I'll show it to you in a few minutes," Joan told her, taking her hand and drawing her down to the bed. Her hand rubbed Rona's arm, touching the shoulder and making Rona shiver again. Joan knew she was getting to the girl.
Despite everything, Rona had to admit she liked Joan's touch. The woman's fingers made her tingle wherever they touched. A delicious sensation of enjoyment traveled through her body, touching every one of her nerves the way an electric shock would travel through the human body. She liked it. She shouldn't, but she liked it.
Joan's hand brought Rona even closer, until she was bending over the supine woman. Her full, round tits dangled invitingly above the older woman's face, and Joan felt she wouldn't be moving at too fast a pace if she kissed the girl's nipples.
Joan's mouth opened and her tongue leaned out, touching the tip of Rona's right nipple. The younger girl shuddered, realizing she was enjoying this iniquity more and more. If she didn't do something to stop it now, she would soon be trapped by this carnal evil. And yet, as Joan began licking her nipple, Rona knew she didn't want to stop it. She lowered her torso a bit more, and felt Joan's tugging lips close tightly around the nipple, sucking it in, pulling it against her palate as her tongue reached ever farther to taste the flesh of the aureole.
Joan sucked strongly, certain of her power over the girl. Yes, she had this sweet, pure innocent in her clutches, and she had the pure thing enjoying the sinful sucking. Joan sucked all the harder, slavering as she savored the girl's flesh. The rich nipple had grown to more than an inch in length, and its thickness matched those of the aroused Joan. The older woman sucked more and more, biting the elastic flesh, thrilling to the way she could chew and feel the spongy spike spring back.
Rona was sighing now, her hands behind Joan's head, clutching the woman's hair, turning her toward her body, pressing her breasts against Joan's face, almost cutting off the latter's air supply. Heaven help me, but I like it, Rona was thinking. It's wrong, it's evil, but I like it.
She writhed as Joan's tongue rubbed against the sensitive swollen nipple, sighing and gasping. She remembered Bob Manset sucking on her nipples. Last night was coming back to her more and more clearly. She had enjoyed Manset's strong, masculine mouth on her breasts as much as she was thrilling to the tingling touch of Joan's tongue. Both were different. Manset sucked harder, stronger, even using his teeth to scrape lightly along the sensitive flesh. But Joan Sumner's mouth was, strictly the use of tongue and Ups, steadily nursing at her nipple the way a baby would extract nourishment from its mother.
"Did you like what I did to you last night?" Rona heard Joan ask as she lifted her mouth from the tit.
Now Rona could recall it all very clearly. Yes, she had liked it. It had been a thrilling experience, unlike anything she'd ever known before. Now Joan seemed to be offering to do it again.
"Yes," Rona nodded, sitting up.
"I like it, too," Joan told her. "If you want me to do that again, you'll have to learn to do it to me. You'll find there's an equal amount of joy in doing as there is in being done."
"I don't understand," Rona muttered. "What do you want me to do?"
"Well do this slowly," Joan murmured. "First, kiss my breasts."
Rona bent down and timidly pressed her lips to the side of Joan's right mammary.
"The nipple," Joan insisted. "Suck the nipple as I sucked yours."
"No," Rona said aloud, suddenly standing up. "I can't do anything as horrible as that."
"You liked it when I did it to you."
"But that was different. You wanted to do it to me."
"And when you learn," Joan assured her, "you'll be no less eager to enjoy me."
"But I don't want to learn to do things like that."
"Lefs stop arguing," Joan said quietly. "Whether you want to or not, you know you will, and now's as good a time as any to begin."
"I won't," Rona said firmly. "I don't do things like that."
"What makes you think you're better than I?" Joan snapped.
"I didn't say I was better. I just don't do things like that."
"I think you and I have to get a few things straight," Joan angrily told the younger girl. "You're going to be here for awhile. Just how long depends on you. But the sooner you come around to my way of thinking, and the longer you stay here, the better things will be when you leave. Give me an argument or a hard time, and not only will I make things uncomfortable for you, but you might leave here under worse conditions than when you arrived."
"What are you trying to say?" Rona asked.
"I'll spell it out," Joan told her, now up on her elbows and staring at her. "Either you come over here, kneel down, and start licking my cunt the way I did yours, or there'll be hell to pay."
"No," Rona murmured, backing away. "No, I won't do it. I just won't."
"Oh yes you will," Joan barked, getting to her feet. "Now you get over here."
"No!" Rona screamed, and taming, ran from the room.
"You bitch!" Joan screamed. "Run all you want. There's no way for you to get out of this house. You either come back here and do as I say, or I swear you'll pay."
But Rona was too far away upstairs to hear.
"I'll fix her," Joan said between gnashed teeth. "I'll make her beg to be raped."