Puppet-girl

Please do not read if under 18 years of age or offended by sexually explicit stories and situations.

(c) 2003 Couture

***********

When I graduated college, I was lucky enough to get a job as a manager for Advertis. It was a great job, with good pay. Even the hours were good. However, there was only one little problem. Well. . . there were two problems really, and their names were Deb and Sam. You see, the problem was . . . well, they are homosexual.

With Deb, you wouldn't know, unless you *knew*. But, with Sam . . . anyone who met her would immediately know she was gay. And I know this isn't politically correct, but when I first met her, I thought, now that is what a butch dyke is. Okay, I shouldn't have said that, but it's true. Her hair, her mannerisms, and the way she talked were about as feminine as one of those wrestlers you see on T.V. sometimes. Not that I watch wrestling. I mean it's like *so fake*. But anyway, she reminds me exactly of one of those wrestler people. And when Sam shook my hand the first time, I thought she was going to crush it or something!

Well, them being homosexuals and all, it sort of made me a tiny bit uncomfortable, but it wasn't the real problem though. See, we had homosexuals in school. One sat next to me in Sociology and she was really sweet. But the problem with Sam and Deb, was they were like really smart and always gave me a hard time, as if they had something to take out on me. Hey, it wasn't my fault she's was a big butch woman! Maybe if she lost some weight and put on a little makeup, she could get a promotion. It's not all about how smart you are, you know. I learned that little lesson in my sorority and it happened to have paid off very well since then. I was like never on the dean's list, but hey, did you know that the human resources manager for Advertis just happened to be a sister? So let that be a lesson, it's not what you know, it's who you know.

Well, anyway, here I have this sweet job, except for these two malcontents. So what do I do? I made peace with Deb. She's the more ladylike, so I figured I could get to Sam through her and you know what? It worked. Sam was no longer hostile, although she wasn't really friendly either. I did have to pretend to be Deb's friend, which was easier said than done. Usually, it was okay, but sometimes . . . well sometimes she would talk about things that made me feel really uncomfortable - icky yucky sexual things that happened between her and Sam.

Things like this. . .

*************

"Wow, we had so much fun this weekend Laura, I can't wait to tell you what happened!" Deb said.

"What happened?" I asked. Did I really want to know? No way! But this was all part of my plan to turn these two malcontents to my side so I had to appear interested. And I guess it was sort of interesting the way the way things must be interesting to one of those poor missionaries who go to try to help out the poor people in Africa.

"We had us a cream puff," she said. "God, I get so wet just thinking about it. Mmmm. . . that poor girl came so many times she was begging Sam to stop. Oh, that sweet little girl. The poor thing probably can't even walk today."

"Oh that's nice," I said, pretending I was hip and relaxed. "I'm glad you two had a fun weekend. Do you want to know what I did? I went to see. . ." I tried to change the subject, but that bitch kept on like I didn't even speak.

"Oh Laura, you would have liked her. She was so young and pretty - reminded me of you. And she had the tightest little blonde pussy. Fuck, but it wasn't very tight when Sam was done with it."

You know, I could listen to some things Deb talked about and either ignore them or not get too grossed out about it. It was all sort of distant and faraway. Sort of like passing a livestock truck on the highway. But, whenever Deb talked about these young girls they did things to over the weekend, well . . . I don't know how to say this, but, instead of repulsing me . . .

It sort of . . . it kind of turned me on.

I have no idea why. I have a boyfriend and all that. I've always had boyfriends and I've never *ever* thought about myself with another woman. Not until recently. Not until hearing Deb's stories. And now, I can't seem to get these fantasies out of my mind. Fantasies about Sam. Of Sam making me do things. Dirty things. Forbidden things. Things like she did to those girls Deb talked about.

I listened as Deb finished her tale and tried not to say anything. Afraid maybe I would give myself away. By the time she was finished, I couldn't even think straight and I prayed she had no idea how aroused I was.

But this time, for some reason, I don't know possessed me. Instead of keeping my mouth shut. I blurted, "Like maybe we could hang out some weekend?" I could feel my face grow hot as I blushed.

I felt Deb's gaze penetrate my defenses. Her knowing smile said she saw through my ploy. She walked behind me. Her hands settled on my hips, causing a shiver to roll down my spine. Her hot breath was in my ear. "I would love to play with you, but it's not up to me. It's up to Sam. She's the one you have to ask."

My knees grew weak, and I held tightly to the counter to keep from falling. Yet, I still felt like I was falling deeper and deeper. "I just meant - you know - hang out - as friends."

"Sure you did," Deb said, as if to say, 'Yeah right.'. "Ask Sam when you're ready."

Despite telling Deb I only wanted to be friends, she took it to mean much more than that. After that, she took every opportunity to touch me . . . on my back, just where my ass begins, on my arm, my hand, even my thigh. Nothing really inappropriate, but enough to make me feel like really uncomfortable. And she continued to tell me sexual stories much more openly. She said I was cool. She said I was pretty. She asked when was I going to ask Sam?

I'm not like that, just friends, a drink or something, I would always reply. And yet, maybe I was. My dreams and fantasies were of Sam and Deb. I knew it would be a stupid stupid idea. I was their supervisor for christsakes. Supervisors don't fraternize with their subordinates. It's just not done. It would be like a senior girl hanging out with the pledges. However no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't seem to get the idea through to my body and eventually I waited until I was alone with Sam.

"Sam," I asked. "Maybe I could hang out with you and Deb one weekend?

"Sorry," she said. "We've got plans for the weekend. Just me, Deb and a *friend*. We don't have room for a supervisor."

My face burned. "Oh okay," I said, stupidly. "Well have a good time then." Damn it, I wanted to kick myself. You are such a chicken shit Laura. But, really, maybe it was for the best.

And later, Deb was no help at all.

"You asked?" Deb said, placing a hand on either side of my hips.

God, why did she like coming up behind me like that? She stood there behind me, spooning against me, and in general making it difficult to think about anything but the heat of our bodies. "Yes," I said. "But she said no." God, I prayed she would just leave me alone.

"What did you ask?" she said and I told her.

"You know what you need to do," she said, and then drew near my ear and told me, her voice barely a whisper. What she told me sent a shiver down my spine.

"But I don't want to be a Creampuff," I answered, blushing. "I already told you I just wanted to hang out or something."

"Look," Deb explained patiently. "No matter what you say, you'll still be her supervisor. Being a creampuff doesn't mean anything real. It's just a name. Besides, you've never had sex with a woman before, have you?"

"No."

"But maybe you are curious about the lifestyle?"

I blushed and bit my lip. God, was I that obvious?

"Then you my dear, are a creampuff," she said and left me standing there.

****

It took me until Friday at 4:50 before I screwed up my courage.

"Sam, I was wondering if you'd like to do something this weekend."

"Laura, I already told you." she said. "Just me, Deb and a friend."

I was sweating and my knees were weak. I felt like I had to pee my panties. I hated myself for being so weak. Weak for being afraid to ask. And weak for asking when I knew I shouldn't.. "Sam, wait . . ." I said. "I'll uh - " whew so hard to say it. "I want to be a . . . I want to be a cream-puff."

Her eyes zeroed in on me. I knew what a mouse feels when it sees a hawk that last second. "Are you sure," she asked. "Do you know what you are asking?"

"Yes." Okay, for sure, I didn't know. I did know one thing, knowing that I was going to be her cream-puff, whatever that meant, had me creaming my panties.

She looked at me hard, as if appraising me anew. "Come by our apartment at seven tonight and wear something sexy." She stepped in close and tilted my chin up. She was so close I could feel her breath on my lips. "Creampuff. . ."

Me, I was trembling and my panties were wet. Oh God, what had I gotten myself into?

************

I modeled my outfit in front of the mirror. I was wearing a short summer dress, white with a red rose print. My legs were bare and freshly shaved. I had on my favorite pair of sandals. There was only one thing that was bothering me. I raised the hem of my skirt to check out my cotton Hanes panties. I was debating between them or a skimpy thong.

I didn't want to give her the wrong idea, and yet, and yet, she said to wear something sexy. And who was to say she would see my panties anyway. My mind replayed the afternoon over again. How she called me Creampuff. I wondered if I should even show up at all. God, I was scared of these feelings I was having. Get a hold of yourself girl, I told myself. It wasn't like anything was going to happen at all. There was something about her that I found compelling, but I couldn't see myself kissing her or any woman in that way. I took off the plain boring panties, put the sexy thong on, just because I wanted to, and for no other reason. Then I picked up my keys and drove to Sam and Deb's apartment.

I drove by twice before I finally stopped and walked to the door. Sam opened it and showed me in. I looked around for Deb. In a way I wanted privacy, but in another, I longed for her comforting presence to counteract Sam's hungry stare.

"Come with me," Sam ordered in a matter of fact tone, taking me by the hand, leading me to the living room and maneuvering me so that the arm of the sofa was in front of me, while she hemmed me in from behind.

"Ah, where's Deb?" I asked, trying to buy a little time as things were moving a little too fast for my taste.

"Cream puffs don't speak unless spoken to." Sam's strong arms encircled my waist and went straight for my crotch. Her mouth pressed tightly against my neck. Instead of kissing me, she sucked hard at my tender skin, even biting me.

I was too caught up with the multiple liberties she took with me to mount an adequate defense. I muttered unintelligibly, "Wait- don't - it will show." Just what I needed for work . . . bite marks and a hickey.

She ignored me, pushing me over the arm of the chair. I was even more helpless than before as she flipped the hem of my sundress over my back. "My what long legs you have cream-puff."

"Stop it Sam," I pleaded. "Listen . . ."

Sam was going much too fast for my benefit. I expected more courtship and flirting, and then maybe after that I could decide whether I wanted things to go any further. "And what sexy hot panties you have, *slut* panties," she continued, ignoring my protests. Worse, she must not have thought too highly of my panties, because she was rapidly divesting me of their modest protection.

"Sam," I begged, but she never stopped. Her fingers delved into the lips of my sex. There was no way I could hide my growing arousal. "Oh Sam!"

"And what a tight wet cream puff pussy."

Sam had defeated me in less that a minute. I was so ashamed. Her fingers sought out my delicate charms, but were stopped short from reaching my clitoris due to my position against the couch and my tightly clenched thighs. But Lord her sure touch felt so good, I was forced to surrender even more of my dignity and spread my thighs.

Sam chuckled, making my burn in shame. "You Creampuffs are all the same. You say no, but in the end, it always comes down to the same thing. Do you still want me to stop, Creampuff?"

I ignored her crude jibe, refusing to answer. She circled my clit with her fingers, slid back and circled my opening before repeating the process, teasing me, frustrating me.

"Want me to stop?" she taunted.

"No."

"Want to be my puppet?" Her finger probed my opening. Oh God, I wanted her inside. I pushed back to impale myself. "Huh, want to be my little cream-puff puppet girl?"

"Yes," I admitted. My sex was on fire with desire. It melted for her touch. And the things she said. They were so crude and domineering. They seduced me, turning me into a moaning squirming wreck.

"Are you sure?" she asked, stroking me, teasing me. "There's no going back. No more creampuff, only puppet. Still want to be my puppet?"

". . .yes," I gasped, more in response to her fingers than her question.

"Beg me," she said. "Beg to be my sweet puppet girl."

I was defeated by her fingers and by her power. There would be no truce. With her it would only be submission. My submission. "Please - oh Gawd." I was rewarded by a swift thrusting stab of her finger. Fucking me. Encouraged, I begged. "Please - ugh - let me - oh - be your - ugh - sw- sweet - puppet girl."

She added another finger and I was in heaven. "Such a tight little puppet pussy," she said. "Keep begging. I love hearing you creampuffs when you beg for it."

And beg her I did. I told what a good little puppet girl I would be. I told her I would do anything to be her puppet girl. I begged oblivious to everything but the sensation of her fingers taking sweet liberties with my sex. I begged until I felt a sharp pain in my sex and realized she was stretching my opening further than it was meant to go, and then, suddenly, I was begging her to stop. I opened my eyes and I was greeted by a further shock. There was Deb, clad in only in her panties, one hand masturbating herself as she looked on. In the other hand, she held a video camera.

"Wait - stop!" I squealed. I tried to struggle, but not only was I trapped, sharp pains shot from my overtaxed sex the more I struggled.

"Just relax Puppet," Sam said. "You're only going to hurt yourself."

I obeyed. I didn't want to, but I was helpless to do anything about it. "But you're hurting me," I whined and then I started to cry.

"Just relax and everything is gonna be okay little Puppet," Sam said. "Just be my good little puppet girl and Sam will take care of everything." Her fingers backed off a bit, her other hand slipped in front of my hips, her fingers finding my clit. "Isn't this better?"

"No," I blubbered. It didn't hurt. Matter of fact, it felt very sensual, but I wasn't going to give her the pleasure of knowing it.

"Then tell us what it feels like." It was Deb with her goddamn video camera in my face."

"Fuck you!" I spat, knowing the two of them had somehow tricked me from the beginning, and pain abruptly exploded in my cunt. God, it was unbelievable. My vision was blotted with flashes of darkness. It felt like I was going to be ruined.

"The puppet will be respectful at all times. And she *will* answer the question," Sam ordered.

"Fuck, oh, it hurts. It hurts. Mercy Sam! Oh please you're splitting me apart." I bawled.

"Keep going," Deb said. "And look in the camera and tell Deb what it feels like."

"Her hand is too big. Oh God, and she's putting it in further. Please Deb, have mercy. Make her stop. Please. You're a woman. Please."

"How far does it feel like it's in?" Deb asked, her voice thick with passion. The fingers in her panties danced. The bitch! She was getting off on my distress and humiliation.

"All the way. Oh God, I think I feel it in my womb." Thank God it didn't hurt as much now that the largest part had cleared my opening.

"Are you in all the way," Deb asked Sam.

"Pretty much," Sam said. "Come take a look."

Deb took the camera and they humiliated me further by documenting my stretched surrender. "Wow, it looks huge in her."

"It's because she's so small," said Sam, parting the cheeks of my bottom. "And look at her adorable little asshole. Can you imagine what it will look like when it's red and gaping?"

"Oh fuck," Deb groaned. "I'm so close baby. Can I have her now?"

"Sure," Sam said. "Be my guest."

Deb knelt down beside the couch and held the camera right in my face. "Here's the deal Creampuff," she said. "Sam can take her hand out and you can go home or you can agree to be our little puppet girl."

It was an easy choice. "I want to go home," I pleaded. This wasn't what I wanted. Not even close. Just then Same tried to pull out her hand, but it stopped at my opening. It was too big and it felt like it would kill me if it was pulled out. All of a sudden being a puppet didn't sound quite so bad. "Wait - wait. Ow ouch. I want to be - I want to be your puppet girl."

"Are you sure?" That bitch was grinning. She knew! There was never a choice. It was all part of their cruel game.

"Yes, oh please." Anything to stop the pain.

"Puppet girls obey."

"Yes . . . yes."

"Puppet girls give pleasure."

"Yes. . . anything."

"Puppet girls kiss." Deb stuck out her tongue and wiggled it in front of my lips.

I gave in and kissed her. The pain in my sex lessened immediately. What were they doing to me? I didn't even have time to wonder that I was kissing a girl.

She pulled away. "Nice," she said. "But puppet girls are more submissive. Just accept my kiss. I'm the aggressor. Pretend you are giving my tongue a blowjob."

She kissed me again. This time I realized I was kissing a girl. She explored my mouth and I suckled at her tongue like it was a cock, just like she had asked. It was humiliating, but God it set my loins on fire.

When she pulled away, I was sorry it was over. "How was puppet's first time kissing a girl?" she asked, pointing the camcorder at me again.

"Okay I guess," I replied blushing.

"Just okay," she said. To Sam: "She said it was okay she guessed."

Deb grinned; her smile fit for any crocodile. She got up and placed the camcorder on a stand, pointing it at me. When she returned to the couch, she knelt on it in front of me, but as I was bent over the arm of the chair this put her higher than me. She captured my head between her hands, tilted it up, and ravaged me with her kiss, all the while Sam plundered my sex from behind. I was so dazed and breathless, I didn't even realize she had finished.

"Did puppet like that kiss better?" Deb teased. "Did it make her little puppet pussy hot?"

"Oh yeah it did baby, you should feel it," Sam replied from behind. "This is one wet pussy. She's positively soaked."

Deb still had my head between her hands. She pointed me so that I faced the camcorder. "Answer me puppet."

The camera lens stared straight into my soul. "I liked it," I admitted.

"There is no 'I' in puppet," Deb said. "When I ask if puppet likes, then puppet says, Puppet likes it, ma'am. Now, does puppet like?"

"Ugh God yes ma'am puppet likes!" I groaned. Now, I don't want you to think that all of a sudden I had a change of heart due to the kiss and decided to humiliate myself in front of my two subordinates and God knows who else, with the tape and all. My eagerness was a direct result of the fist in my sex battering against my womb. I would have said anything to make her stop.

"Now my breasts," Deb ordered.

Her breasts were large and full, as were her areoles. I kissed them and tongued her stiffening nipples. "That's nice," Deb said. "Does that make puppet's pussy hot and bothered?"