Keira was standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes. Her dress fell and touched on points of her to just indicate the soft curves beneath. She glanced to me when I came back in.
“Is everyone gone?”
“Yep. I just forgot my book.”
Keira had a sometimes sarcastic, sometimes faux-fed up, teasing tone that she used to rib you and joke with you. It was always barely concealing a layer of glee and affection–it was to show that she liked you enough to bother teasing you rather than being polite. It was immensely likable. In a blip of that tone she said, teasing, “Excuses for extra time with me.”
Which I knew was a joke, and not her actually requesting more time with me. It was late. We were tired. I laughed, picked up the book and turned back to the door. “Got it. Thanks again Keira, that was so, so fun hanging out with everyone.”
She’d turned from the sink and was grinning, “Ian, have you ever had a girlfriend?” *Teasing*.
I smiled back but I was worried that I was blushing a little, because who doesn’t like talking about girls with a cute girl? But I had only had one girlfriend, two years ago at my old university before I nearly flunked out then transferred. And being sexually inexperienced didn’t fit with the image I’d tried to create with my wonderful new friend group. I liked that they all seemed to think I was cool and knowledgeable. Especially the girls. Particularly Keira and Josie. “Yes,” I said.
“When?”
“Oh…a little while ago.”
“Like, two weeks?” *Teasing* “Wait, you haven’t had any girlfriend while I’ve known you, have you? That’s two years almost. Was it back at your old college?”
“Yes.”
Keira would sometimes poke you with questions, but you also always felt like she was earnestly interested to know more about you. She didn’t bother kids she didn’t like. It meant you were friends. Her eyes had widened now in curiosity. “Why so long?” *Exaggerated concern.*
I shrugged, acting like I didn’t care. “I’ve just been busy I guess. Do you really want to hear my dating history at two in the morning?” But as soon as I said it I regretted it; I loved getting to talk to Keira more and I didn’t actually want to go if she was up for chatting.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, gleefully calling the bluff. “Wait, how many girlfriends have you had?”
“Eh, not very many.”
“How many, like, six?”
“A little less than that.” I was definitely blushing now, and I felt super stupid for even still being nervous about admitting this. I’d thought I’d grown out of it. It was even worse because Keira was only eighteen (she’d started taking university classes early) and I was twenty three (and two years behind schedule to graduate, by the way), but she was already so fucking cool, man. I was an unforgivable, room-dwelling, unconfident, weirdo at her age. I was only just as cool as her at twenty three, but I very much wanted to give the impression that I’d basically been conceived cool from the womb, and not just started dressing the part about three months before I met her and the rest of our friends.
“What? Come on, don’t be a wuss, just tell me! What, do you not want me to know?” *Teasing*.
I kept grinning at her, trying to look cool, as my brain froze and had to reboot over not being able to conceive some easy simple way to pass off this question without looking evasive.
“I’m just fucking with you. Sorry. I don’t care; whatever.” She giggled and walked into her living room. This still could’ve counted as a normal interaction for us, especially since we were both still a little drunk and high, except she didn’t say *“bye”* at the end: which meant she wasn’t trying to get rid of me–she wasn’t trying to tell me *”You’re my bestie but I’m tired and it’s time to go now see you Monday”*. I followed her into the other room.
I knew better than to try to turn the teasing and verbal nudges into flirting–that wasn’t the point. It was a fun end-in-itself for Keira, not a means for some guy to get laid with her. If I’d wanted to go out with her that would’ve been a super awkward and weird move. What I should’ve done was just ask her if she wanted to go out, honest and simple. But I never had. She’d gone out with Alex, who was a cool idiot and great part of our group, almost immediately after we all met, and when they broke up last year she’d started dating some artist-sculptor none of us knew or liked. Plus, as noted, I wasn’t actually as cool or sure of myself as I pretended, and I felt a little creepy because of how much younger she was. I told everyone who’d listen that I loved Keira and that she felt like a little sister to me. Which would’ve been true if I was some alternate, sister-fucking Oedipus. I’d wanted to go out with her immediately and for about a year after we met. Then got over it. And then just recently I’d started, against my will, to become enamoured again.
She was sitting on the far side of the living room with her legs crossed and her laptop balanced on them. And this was the first of two big turns of the night: She looked at me steadily and in a calm voice said, “I found your internet history, Ian. Your porn internet history.”
“Oh,” I blurted out. My face turned bright red.
“Yeah, ‘oh’ indeed,” she had a grin on her face, and behind that glee, maybe, and other things I couldn’t understand. “Why don’t you sit down.”
I shuffled over to the couch mumbling how sorry I was that she’d had to see that. Had I left a page up on my phone? Had she stumbled across it sometime at my house and been waiting to talk to me? I didn’t understand the game anymore, and worried she was actually mad or disgusted with me. I wondered if she’d already confided in someone–her and Josie were always sharing secrets and gossip. If she was troubled enough would she have sought out someone’s advice? Did she think I was like, fucking dangerous or some deranged pervert and our whole friendship was a lie or something? She was blushing too, but I couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment at the topic.
“I already copied it all over to my laptop…and took a bunch of screenshots to prove it’s your phone and accounts…and put it all in an email that will automatically send to a bunch of our friends if something happens to me and I don’t cancel it–like if you tie me up and put me in a closet.”
I could only mumble, dumbfounded, “What?”
She grinned. “I dunno. I went looking for stuff on your phone. You left it charging earlier in the night. You don’t even have a lockscreen, Ian. And you keep your, like, porn account signed into Reddit, and your phone browser is automatically synced with your laptop browser with your Google account. There was stuff everywhere.” Keira was the rare cute girl who often browsed Reddit. “Because I want to know more about you, Ian, and you always hide your past and lie about stuff and you won’t give me straight answers when I ask stuff like ‘How many girls have you slept with?’” *Teasing, mock frustration*–Or was it real frustration? The lines were blurring.
I sat on the couch almost queasy. I thought of pressing an attack–playing outrage at her snooping on my phone (even though I was actually totally flattered that she cared enough to do it). But I was so nervous and worried about losing her that I stayed timid. I had no idea how to read this situation or play it cool here. I grinned and shrugged sheepishly.
“Why are you grinning and shrugging like that? Are you actually into this stuff?” *Incredulous*.
“Uh, some of it. A lot of stuff I was just bored or just sort of curious–like, one-time things. I don’t know–I look at a lot of random stuff on the internet.”
“Oh yeah right! You subscribed to all those subreddits just because you were ‘curious’ and ‘bored’? You’re such a liar.” *Teasing*
“Well…” I had no idea how much she’d looked. My mind was just showing a giant “PANIC” error screen at the thought of someone seeing everything I’d posted.
“You posted pictures of your butt on the internet, naked.” I actually flinched when she said that and immediately broke into a profuse sweat. I couldn’t believe this was happening. If she’d found that then I knew I’d lost all possible respect from this girl who was one of my favorite people in the world. “You’re like on your knees like a girl–’Cute, fat, jiggly PAWG ass’ is the title, on a subreddit for sissies and traps. You posted a bunch of pictures, and captions about getting turned into a girl and fucked by all these guys, and you’re obsessed with commenting on anal sex videos and talking about how you want it and want to be spanked and shit. So I think you’re a little beyond ‘looking at stuff when you’re bored’, huh?”
“Look, I’m a pervert, okay. I’m sorry. I have fucked up weird shit and I don’t know why I like it and I try to hide it and I know that it’s not real, okay.”
“Do you actually do any of this stuff? Have you ever sucked a guy’s cock?”
“No, it’s just imagination.”
“Oh no! You don’t get off that easy–you don’t just get to say ‘I’m a pervert’ and walk away!” She stared at me until I said something.
Half of me wanted to run out of the house and cut off contact with her, but instead I just said “Please, just don’t tell anyone, okay?” I was thoroughly in love with her. She was a girl and only eighteen and she had complete control over me.
“You answer my questions, and maybe I’ll think about not talking to Josie or sending anything to anybody–even though that would be hilarious.”
“And you’ll delete all the copies you made?”
“Maybe. You have to tell the truth. I’ll know if you don’t.” Keira was frighteningly perceptive of people, emotion, and relationships.
“Okay.”
“You’ve had one girlfriend,” she said in a matter of fact, poor-baby tone.
“Yes.”
“How many times did you have sex with her?”
“I dunno, like, twelve–ten. It was ten.”
“Lie!”
“No, really,” I said. I figured it would be best to stick it out and not get caught in the first one. But I stammered a little.
“Fucking liar! Second lie. What was it, five times?”
I froze up.
She held up the back of her hand, fingers extended, “I’m going to count down for you, and you say when, to make it easy for you: five, four, three…” her fingers ticked down. I realized she was watching me intently, had maybe been watching me intently for the whole time.
I nodded. “That one.”
“Three?”
“Yes.”
“*See*, that wasn’t so hard! Oh my God you’re blushing bright red. That’s what bullies do–they point it out. Am I bullying you?”
“I guess so.”
“I kind of like it. Do you feel bullied?”
“I think I’ll live.”
“Have you ever masturbated to me?”
I felt a thrill run through my body. “Yes.”
A pause there, and there was only stillness in the room between us. We both held the other’s gaze. Our eyes held us together through the stillness. She looked down with a smile then back up. “How much?”
“A lot.”
And she blushed deeper and bit her lip and her eyes were wide and sparkling. Her voice wavered but then went stern again, “That’s so disgusting and perverted. You’ve secretly been lusting over my body when I thought you were just normal and we were friends?”
“Yes. I do want you to be my friend though.”
“Do you fantasize about anal sex with me?”
“Yes,” I was so aroused that I almost felt lightheaded. I felt short of breath, too; like when you try to interact with your hot older babysitter when you’re a kid.
“You fantasize about spanking me?”
“Yes.”
“About me sucking your cock?”
“Yes.”
We were both blushing bright red with arousal. “But that’s not nearly all the porn you watched. Do you want to be given hormones and turned into a girl?”
“No, not all of it is real–some of it’s fantasy.”
“That’s convenient: all the *really* embarrassing things are just fantasy, huh? I don’t believe you. Do you want to dress up in my bra and panties?” *Oh how badly I did.*
“No–I wouldn’t do that.”
“Do what–sneak into my room and try on my underwear like a pervert?–but you’ll totally post pictures of your actual butt on sissy subreddits! Do you fantasize about receiving anal sex?”
“No! I think it would actually probably be very uncomfortable.”
“Lie. It can be though. But it doesn’t have to. Have you ever shaved your pubic hair?”
“Why?”
“Because it would make you feel more girly, obviously, you pervert.”
I was too embarrassed–even as aroused as I was I couldn’t admit it. “No.”
She looked at me carefully “…*Lie*.”
I was almost trembling from the mix of shame, fear, and excitement. I was still sweating, and my clothes were drenched in a damp sweat now.
“Do you want to become my little girl?”
“No.”
“Lie, lie, lie. Do you think you’re good enough for me?”
“Of course.”
“Lie,” and that one seemed to make her sad a moment, but then she snapped back.
“I’m really not lying to you!” I said.
“Fine, then prove it.”
“How?–Why are you doing this?”
She thought about that a moment. “Because I’m bored. And just because I’m young doesn’t mean I don’t like control. I’m sick of you being the one in control. And I want someone to play with, manipulate, fuck around with, hurt…humiliate…degrade. I’ve never been in actual control over another person. That’s so rare in modern society, don’t you think–being in real, manipulative control of someone else? Beyond the limits of the law or social convention. Like, really being able to make someone do whatever you want.” Her voice shook as she awkwardly tried to articulate the strange want in her, but she said it all with complete conviction, too, and I was taken aback.
“I’ll give you a deal: strip and show my your bod, or I send this all to Josie and then the rest of the gang,” she said, lips pouty.
“Wai…would you really?”
“You said you hadn’t actually shaved your…*anus*, I guess…or your legs, but they look shaved in those slutty pictures you posted so I want to see if you just lied to me.” I paused. She looked me straight in the eyes. “Just do it. You know you want to.”
And suddenly I was naked in front of her. I slipped out of my clothes so easily and quickly–just like changing in my own room in private.
“Drop your hands from your cock. Put them at your side.”
I did. Keira’s eyes were wide and alight, taking in my naked body. I had never blushed such a shade of scarlet-pink over my pale body in my whole life.
And then suddenly there was a knocking and the front door started to creak open. Keira flung a blanket at me, breathed “*hide*”, and leapt for the door in the next room. I wrapped myself in the blanket and pretended to be asleep on the couch. Keira had a brief conversation and I heard Andy’s voice talking about missing something, then the door shut. She stepped back in, smiling.
“Up,” she said, gesturing with open hands.
I stood up and she tugged the blanket away from me as she walked by and returned to her seat. “Andy forgot his phone charger.”
“Are your parents going to…”
“No, they’re gone all weekend. It’s just us. Now arch your back; pop that butt out.”
I was blushing so hard. I did it.
“Spin,” she said, twirling a finger. “Get up on your tiptoes for your butt and thighs.”
I did it. And then the second big shift happened, and I don’t think things were the same after this. She walked over and ran a finger up my leg. Her flesh on mine. Pleasure exploded out from where she touched and arced through my body like shocks. It wasn’t just playing any more–she was pleasuring me sexually. Something *real* was happening between us. She scratched her fingernails up my fat buttock, then teased the back of her finger down the inside curve and I thought I would melt and exploded right there. Her finger traced through wet sweat drops as she touched me. There were going to be more tests to follow that evening, but I’d already lost all of them. At that moment I could see the possibilities of what she wanted from me, and I gave into her completely. Once she touched me, there was no way I was going to do anything but acquiesce.
“You’re all shaved! Oh my God that is so embarrassing. I’m legitimately embarrassed for you. You’re all wet and sweaty too. How disgusting.” I was shaved–I’d shaved completely smooth last week except for a cute little square of hair above my cock, then spent the day masturbating. The hair that had grown back was just a little stubble–very short. She was laughing. “Spin around!” Her teasing had made my cock swell up. “Oh my God are you getting aroused from being naked in front of me and getting teased?”
“Nuh…no. I’m…I just need to go to the bathroom, that’s all.”
She paused and looked at me for a second. “Oh, sorry. It’s this way.” She put a hand to the sweaty curve of my lower back and guided me to the downstairs bathroom–like a man guiding a woman through a crowded bar. She stepped inside with me and I felt her hands on my hips guiding me into position. And then I gasped as something wonderful happened: her delicate, sure fingers wrapped around my cock, guiding it towards the toilet. Her other hand held my stomach firm and low, her pinky tracing through my landing strip of pubic hair. I could feel her stomach and thighs pressed against my fat butt. “Whenever you’re ready,” she breathed into my ear. “Unless you were lying.”
We stood for moments on end in silence. I tried to pee but I couldn’t with her holding me and staring. Her free hand gently squeezed my butt, my thigh, and then returned to my stomach. “God, baby, you’re so thick down there. You’re butt’s as fat as mine and I’m a real girl. It’s really nice.” My cock twitched in her hand and she squeezed it tighter. It was rock hard now. “Wow, you fucking pervert,” she said, disappointed. She gave my cock a disdainful slap, then two more. “Wow, it’s really not going down–you’re just a slut who likes this, aren’t you?” She slowly and tightly moved her hand up and down my cock–just a few, luxurious tugs. “Okay, we’re done here. You lost that chance.”
She kept a firm hold of my cock, though; she pulled up on it so I had to stand on my tiptoes, and she used it to tug me back out into the other room. “It looks like you lied to me twice, which is really disappointing. But I’m going to give you two more chances to back up what you said, and if you can’t do that I guess you really are a complete, worthless pervert.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6zb4iu/fm_my_best_friend_and_my_owner_fdom_huml_reluc