Fang pulled her fingers free from Aspen and leaned forward, pressing her pussy on Aspen’s mouth. Aspen was still orgasming but she let her ass flop back to the mattress. With no fingers to penetrate her there was no reason to kept it up. Fang’s pussy robbed Aspen of air as did the physical requirements of Aspen’s orgasm.
Fang muttered, apparently to herself, “It is good this stupid American slut has acknowledged me as her Mistress. She is mine, all mine. She belongs to me. She is my slut.”
Aspen couldn’t protest not matter how much she would normally disagree. She was flying high down low under Fang.
Fang ordered, “Now suck on your Mistress’s clitoris. I give you the honor.”
So arrogant! But Aspen was so defeated and so turned on, so buzzed from her orgasm, that Fang’s arrogance only turned her on more. It did feel like an honor to get to suck on her Mistress’s—
…
Whatever. She had a clitty to suck on.
Aspen sucked on Fang’s clitoris with tenderness inversely proportional to how Fang was rough on her last night and again this morning. Even still thrumming from her orgasm, the difference wasn’t lost on Aspen. She guessed some people were bitches (Fang) and other people were caring (Aspen) and sometimes the two did meet up and… do things with each other. And to each other.
The clit-sucking worked wonders. Fang had purposely held off her orgasm so Aspen would orgasm first. Now that Aspen had orgasmed, Fang had no need or desire to refrain from orgasming.
Fang orgasmed and, appropriate for her but in a wildly inappropriate return on Aspen’s tender clit-sucking efforts, Fang expressed her orgasm in part by slapping her hands repeatedly on the top of Aspen’s head and on Aspen’s juice-slick forehead.
Aspen saw stars and Fang also saw stars but for very different, almost opposite, reasons.
Fang pressed her pussy on Aspen’s mouth and then purposely ground her pussy all over Aspen’s face. On Aspen’s chin, her cheeks, her nose, her eye sockets and eyebrows, and her forehead. Aspen was too worn out from her own orgasm and from her overall defeat to even try to resist.
Fang rolled off Aspen and lay on her back panting. Aspen sucked in air.
Aspen couldn’t get over that it had happened. Again! She never thought anything like this would happen to her. Maybe something lesbian, sure. She was openminded. She’d also been curious what it be like to be with two men at the same time. Very slutty!
But last night and this morning was far sluttier than anything she’d ever done. And far more lesbian. Fang had treated her worse than any lover Aspen had ever had. Fang had treated her so poorly that Aspen could not conceivably think of her as a lover.
But hey, not as a Mistress either!
Although, in the thick of lust and with the taste of Fang and Fang’s scent and her submission to Fang domineering her, there had been that one moment where she had thought of Fang as her Mistress.
That was an accident! Like mispronouncing a word. That did not mean you did not know the word or how to say it. All it meant was you’d had an accident. Aspen concluded her mind had had a little accident. A little mental boo-boo. Her mind had tripped up and accidentally thought of Fang as her Mistress.
Aspen told herself it was no big deal. Good think Fang wasn’t telepathic! That would fucking suck!
Aspen opened her eyes and then blinked rapidly. Something—
Fuck! Fang’s pussy juice was running into her eyes!
Aspen reached up to clear her eyes and probably to wipe the rest of her face. Her hands did not make it. Either Fang was telepathic or she’d anticipated Aspen would have the urge to wipe her face. Fang slapped Aspen’s hands down and kept slapping them until they gave up the effort and retreated down to Aspen’s sides.
Fang ordered, “Leave my honorable juice on your American slut face! It is a great honor for slut face to shine with my spend!”
“No, it isn’t!” Aspen yelled that out but it still sounded weaker than she intended. A whiny yell like she was only trying to communicate her displeasure, not that she would not do as Fang said. Aspen did not try to lift her hands to her face again.
It was so unfair! Fang could slap at her hands and even at her head and Aspen couldn’t slap back! She could, yet she couldn’t. There was the contract. This was Fang’s home and Fang’s bedroom.
But the real reason was something else and Aspen knew it. She did not know much about domination and submission but she knew enough.
Fang had dominated her. Fang kept dominating her.
Aspen had submitted. Aspen kept submitting.
She had to stop this. But that was easier thought than done.
She sounded whiny and plaintive to her own ears, “Fang, please, I can’t wear your… you know, your….”
“I do know and I do know you can and will wear it. Never underestimate your sluttiness. I never will.”
Aspen felt herself giving in, hoping for mercy through some level of cooperation, “I mean, yes, I can, for… a while. I guess. If that makes you happy. But for how long?”
“All day. Why not?”
Aspen knew why not!
“It’s gross and I don’t want to and I can’t go to dinner like this!”
Fang waved a hand above them tiredly, or vaguely, “Dinner is a long time away. Cross the dinner bridge when we come to the dinner bridge. Do not insult your Mistress Fang with talk of this is gross. Nothing come from Mistress Fang is gross. You must love all of your Mistress Fang. Every juicy drop of her. Also, you must want what I want, whatever I want, as soon as you know what I want.”
Aspen had no idea what to say to that! She was at a rare loss for words. What Fang said was a lot to swallow. Answering it was like trying take a bite out of a live shark. It was too big to handle with a mouthful of words.
Fang turned her held-aloft hand back and forth above them, letting the morning sunlight gleam on Aspen’s juices sheening her hand.
Then Fang said, “You will wear my scent and taste. Do not wipe it off! Do not wash your face! I will know if you do. If you obey, then maybe I will spray perfume on you before dinner in order to disguise your slutty nature from my twin and my grandmother. Fail to obey in any way and you will wear shiny fresh coat of Mistress juice to dinner and you will also have difficulty sitting on spanked butt at dinner.”
Fuck. Cooperate or it would be even worse for Aspen.
Aspen sighed a frustrated defeated sigh.
Fang knew exactly what it meant. Another win for her. She giggled.
Fang recovered from her giggling fit, “And now, as they sometimes say, it is time for the next event. Small but important.”
Next event?
Fang lowered her damp hand, “It is good for slut to wear her Mistress juice but it is unseemly for Mistress to wear nasty slut juice. Clean Mistress Fang’s hand.”
This damn spoiled Chinese wealth princess! Did she really think—
Fang’s wet hand was against Aspen’s lips.
Aspen sighed that same resigned defeated sigh. Fang again giggled like a little maniac.
Aspen licked knuckles. Then the back of Fang’s hand. Then Fang’s fingers, one after another. Some of those fingers just a few minutes ago were inside Aspen! And now they were inside her mouth.
Aspen noticed she tasted different than Fang. She caught herself trying to decide which one of them tasted better and then cursed herself. She would wonder which tasted worse! Or she should wonder which was worse, having to taste herself or having to taste the pussy of a spoiled bitch!
She definitely needed to make changes in her recent diet.
Fang turned sideways and turned her hand around and around like a roast pig on a spit. Aspen licked it all over. It was hard to lick haphazardly. Aspen couldn’t help but focus on licking everywhere, getting into the webbing between fingers, and trying to get any and all remnants of her lubrication. If she was going to lick her cum off Chinese wealth princess fingers, she was going to do a bang-up job of it. Right after Fang did the fingerbang job on her.
Fang made her lick for much longer than was needed for simple pussy juice removal. Sometimes Fang giggled with enjoyment. It wasn’t clear to Aspen if Fang giggled from the sensation of Aspen’s licking or simply because Aspen was doing it. Probably both.
Fang finally sat up, “Time for breakfast. You’re already eaten but your Mistress Fang is hungry.”
Already eaten! Aspen had not already eaten! Pussy and pussy juice did not count as food!
Not to Aspen. But they did to Fang as Aspen soon found out.
Fang told Aspen not to bother to get dressed. Aspen released another groan of frustration and resignation. She followed Fang, both of them nude.
Aspen had never suspected being a friendship companion would be so sexual! All the time!
They went to the meal area of Fang’s section of the estate. Fang had seven rooms for her personal use and one of them was a kitchen and dining room combo.
Fang sat down heavily in one of the chairs, “Flame Hair Freckle Face, make for me the American eggs and the bacon. Also, the hash browns! First, bring your Mistress Fang a tall glass of orange juice. Mistress Fang is juice depleted and needs juice replacement.”
Aspen turned away from Fang, took a deep steadying breath, and then rolled her eyes in silent rebellion. But she did as Fang ordered. Fang’s grandmother, Caihong, had made it clear, pretty much at the last minute, after the friendship companion contracts were signed by Aspen and Rylie, that they would not be equals with Fang and Xiang like traditional friends were. Far from it. Aspen and Rylie also had to cook and clean and perform any and all servant functions as required.
The Chiu estate servants were supposedly all back in China undergoing “re-education.” Sounded pretty Orwellian!
Aspen fetched Fang the tall glass of orange juice. The fridge was huge, like something for an army base, and fully stocked.
Aspen mentally grumbled, “Her fucking juice is depleted and her goddamn Chinese juice reservoir needs restocking!”
Aspen knew where Fang’s juice went: All over Aspen’s face! And in her hair. And on her neck. And some up her nose. And maybe quite a bit of it down in her stomach.
Aspen asked Fang how many eggs she wanted and how she wanted them cooked. Two of them, sunny side up. Aspen was okay with her eggs that way also so she cracked four of them and started cooking.
Suddenly, Fang was right next to her, “Dumb American slut. You cannot even count. I told you I wanted two eggs, not four.”
“Two for you and two for me.”
“No. Incorrect. You already ate. Your Mistress Fang served you generous portion of pussy. No more food for you until later. No overeating!”
Aspen widened her eyes, “You can’t be serious! I’m hungry! I need to eat!”
“I know you will always be so hungry for Mistress Fang’s pussy. Yet you must earn it.”
“I’m not talking about your fucking pussy! I need food! Real food!”
“No. Incorrect again. So stupid. Remember, you are like breathing doll for Mistress Fang’s doll collection. You are sexy doll. All sexy dolls have certain features. Sexy dolls always have no pubic hair. You are shaved bare like doll. As Fang requested of Grandmother Caihong. Sexy dolls also unreal slim. This requires much lack of food to make you ever more doll-like.”
Aspen could not believe what she was hearing!
Fang failed to reassure her by saying, “No worry. Your Mistress Fang is well aware you are not full doll and are human. Your Mistress Fang also knows grandma Caihong is most insistent Fang not break you. Not irreparably. Not completely broken. Your Mistress Fang can control her own appetite for breaking sluts no matter what grandma thinks. I can compromise. In order not to break you and so my friendship companion lives the full six months as required, your Mistress Fang will graciously allow you to eat one meal per day. At the dinner with others each night. They will see you eat much and see you have huge appetite and no one will worry I am breaking you.”
Aspen was understandably appalled. This just could not be how it would be. She didn’t come here to starve!
Fang took the handle of the frying pan from her, brought it over to the garbage, and used the spatula to push two of the eggs into the trash.
“There. No worries. This one time I do the menial labor. All fixed now.”
Aspen just stared at Fang. Her loss of words issue was becoming more profound the longer she was around Fang.
Fang put the frying pan back on the stove, “Make sure not to burn them but I also do not like them runny. I see your dismay thru and past your screen of freckles.
“Do not fear, you will not starve on one meal a day. Governments have funded studies how little they can feed their people and still achieve good productivity.
“Do not fear that you will let your Mistress Fang down. You will have enough energy to obey her at all times and in all ways and yet not enough energy to think clearly. Which is a good thing! No one wants a clear-thinking slut. Certainly, I do not.
“An extra positive is that you will be ever so hungry for meal of Mistress Fang pussy. That will be your breakfast and also your snack before bedtime.”
Fang went back to her chair.
Aspen stood there, looking at the sizzling eggs, smelling how good they smelled, feeling her hunger. She knew Fang was serious. She knew there was zero chance of changing Fang’s mind.
This could be a super long six months!
She was already slim. Some people called her skinny. Would she look like a skeleton at the end of the six months?
Or… even worse… would she get hungry for Fang’s girl cum? Constantly hungry for it!?!
Feeling as grumpy and angry and resentful as she’d ever felt, Aspen finished cooking breakfast for Fang.
Then Fang told her to sit next to her, which Aspen did resentfully, sitting down hard. A form of protest, though not much of one. Fang smirked. It was clear that Fang actually enjoyed Aspen’s anger. The little beast!
Aspen wanted to strike out, and she did so with words, “It isn’t fair that you won’t let me have breakfast. It isn’t right. I’m already skinny!”
“Yes, but you could be even more skinny, even more doll like.”
Aspen was furious enough to let her anger out in biting commentary, “Look at yourself! You’re thin in some places but you’ve got big fat thighs. If anyone should skip some meals, it’s you!”
Aspen had expected Fang to get angry, to be insulted, but she only smiled a little and said, “It does not matter if I am thin or great big fat. Do you know why? Looks are for other people to enjoy or not enjoy and I do not care about other people, only about them doing as I tell them to do.
“You know this but do not understand what it truly means. I am rich. Wealthy rich. This is what is important. Wealth transcends the physical other than ailments of course. But you are poor and an inferior American. Your appearance is important in order to make you of greatest usefulness.
“I see on your stupid face that you do not agree. But you will. I will work it into your feeble brain.”
Fang didn’t care what she looked like? Wait, didn’t she get riled up about her freckles? She did too care! But maybe she really did not care about her big thighs. Aspen thought she needed to choose her target more carefully next time. Really lay a zinger on the bitch!
Aspen said, “I don’t want to look like a doll. I’m not a doll.”
“What you want it not of import. It is what I want that matters. You will be very much like a living breathing doll for me. You already have the porcelain skin of a doll other than your gruesome freckles.”
Damn her! People liked Aspen’s freckles! They were not a flaw; they were a feature! Her freckles were not “gruesome!”
Wait, this was a chance to zing Fang on her freckle insecurity!
“You have freckles too!”
Fang slammed an open palm down on the table, “Never mention freckles in connection to your Mistress Fang unless it is you rubbing your freckled cheeks on Mistress Fang’s ass!”
Wow. Self-aware much? Fang was actually pretty scary when she got angry. Aspen wished she could be scary to Fang when she was angry, instead of amusing her.
Fang was such a rude bitch. Aspen would never rub her freckles anywhere on Fang!
Right away, she realized that wasn’t true. She already had. She must have. Her cheeks were in contact with Fang’s overly full thighs when Fang sat on her face. Last night and this morning. Aspen still could barely believe either incident had occurred. Or that Fang expected such incidents to occur twice a day every day for the next half year. At least twice a day!
Aspen’s freckles on Fang’s thighs. Whatever. It happened. Whatever. But not on Fang’s ass! Never! Wait, what was she thinking? Not anywhere on Fang ever again!
As much as Aspen did not want anyone in the universe to know about Fang taking sexual advantage of her, and especially not Rylie, Aspen was getting desperate. Too much pussy to eat and not enough food was a bad combination!
Aspen was on the brink of taking this issue up with Caihong. She thought she had to. Caihong might not be as sympathetic as Aspen wanted. Caihong was a weird bitch herself. And maybe more than weird. She’d jerked off Aspen’s way too sensitive, strangely sensitive, newly pierced nipples yesterday right before introductions to the twins.
That was definitely weird!
But Caihong was the only one Fang seemed to listen to, though she did it reluctantly and resentfully. Caihong did have more authority at the estate than the twins. Also, Caihong wanted Aspen and Rylie to be bad examples for the twins, examples of why not to get piercings or tattoos. She would not want Aspen to pull a runner.
Caihong wanted them to keep the twins from using sexual devices to pleasure themselves because Caihong wanted grandchildren and she was worried the twins would see no need for men and fail to get pregnant.
What about lesbian sex? Couldn’t that keep Fang from valuing males and from getting pregnant? Caihong might be almost as interested in stopping lesbian sex between Fang and Aspen as Aspen was.
Caihong wanted the twins to stay away from sex toys. Hopefully that included human sex toys!
