Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Note from JetBoy: A fascinating wrinkle on lesbian erotica from our newest Juicy Secrets contributor. Very few editing changes were needed with this one. Please enjoy, and do give Emma a rousing welcome to the family.

by Emma

Chapter One: Hentai First, Crying and Cocoa Later

Hi there, I’m Bunny! Wanna see my tushy?

Well, hang on, I have some stuff I need to get done before Mommy gets home, but don’t worry. I love showing my bottom to everyone, so you’ll be seeing a lot of it! (Also, shhh, I’m only twelve in real life, but I always say I’m eighteen when I show off my bottom to strangers, usually nice ladies. See, that way they can just claim I told them I was eighteen. (Wait, wait, wait, I’m getting distracted again!)

Okay, okay, so maybe tonight there’s laundry to fold and a suspicious number of glittery paw prints to clean off the entryway floor. But I’m lonely, and antsy, and the couch is soft, and my favorite hentai is glowing on the TV in soft pinks and sparkles, and… yeah. My little bunny bottom wanted me to put a little bunny butt plug inside, and I didn’t want to wait for Mommy to get home, so I got it and put it in and now I’m too horny and I just caaan’t do any chores, I need to come…

Besides, Mommy’s out on one of her Very Important Dates with someone that she thinks can become part of Lollipop Lane…but I’m bored and needy and, ugh…so twitchy with waiting, I can barely sit still.

I mean, have you ever tried to focus on setting the table when your head is full of anime centaur girls with perfect tushies and legs that go on forever? Didn’t think so.

So now it’s me, the couch, my favorite stuffy Theodore (he’s a big teddy bear with stitching on him that says Good Girls Get Kisses, but I took a marker and crossed out Kisses and scribbled in Pussy Licks, which has all my neighborhood friends dissolve into giggling fits, it’s great!), and I keep replaying the same two-minute scene where the wolf-girl sniffs the centaur’s pussy and whispers, “I missed this.” It’s supposed to be romantic. It’s definitely not appropriate for girls my age. I’ve watched it five times. Seven. Actually, nine…okay, nineteen.

I know I’m just setting myself up, falling in love with fictional characters (from cartoons, even!), but then the centauress lifts up the wolf-girl’s tail so high and we see her oh, so cute little bottom hole and, well… my horny little heart gets swept away on a sea of lust.

I tell myself I’m just relaxing. I deserve it! Outside of Lollipop Lane, everything’s so, so boring, and I have to do dumb schoolwork all the time… God, what a stupid world.

And I start wondering what Mommy would say if she saw me bouncing on my tail like this when she gets home? Would she roll her eyes? Would she give me that I ‘m-finally-really-smiling smile and say, “Again, Bunny?” with that mommy voice that makes me feel like I’m already forgiven, yet really, really in trouble at the same time?

I kind of hope she walks in before I decide to behave myself. Just barges through the door in her sexy date-night dress and finds me without a stitch of clothing, curled up on the rug watching cartoons I’m not supposed to watch, a cute little butt plug in my tushie. Makes me shiver, just picturing it.

I rock a little…juuust enough to feel my tail go further in. It’s really hard to come from just my bottom, and I’m not touching my pussy. I’m not, I swear…

I imagine Mommy stepping through the door right now, catching me mid-rock, taking in the glint of surprise in my eyes, the wolf-girl sniffing and licking the centaur-girl’s tushy on the TV screen. Maybe Mommy would lean down, sniff my hair, sigh like she’s disappointed but not surprised. Maybe she’d whisper in my ear, “How many times did you edge today, baby girl?”

It isn’t easy, but I force myself to stop rocking. Breathe. Breathe.

I want Mommy to see me like this. I’ve been so good, saving myself for her. By now, my whole body is screaming pretty please notice me!

And then I imagine Mommy walking through the door, only this time, there’s someone with her —maybe a big sister for me, or better still, a littler sister, littler than I am! When I picture that, it’s so, SO hard not to just let myself go and come. It’s been building up inside me for hours, and my entire body is screaming for it.

I can’t help it. I need to call Mommy. I need to know when she’s getting home…

♡ ⚢ ♡ ⚢ ♡

 

My name is Lilliana Ferris. I turned thirteen yesterday, and the first thing that I learned as a “young adult” is that it’s the most depressing thing in the world.

I don’t even like Halloween parties. Too many expectations, too many girls in carefully curated slutty costumes pretending it’s all an exercise irony. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a freezing bus bench at eight in the evening, drenched in rain, crying into the shredded remains of my dollar-store zombie goth-girl outfit, which, spoiler alert, wasn’t water resistant.

I’m a teenager. I’m supposed to be, I don’t know, sexy now, right?

Mascara streamed down my cheeks like war paint drawn by a raccoon having a breakdown. Valerie, my one “friend” who was supposed to get me into the party, ditched me as soon as someone said, “Ugh, who invited HER?” loud enough for everyone to hear.

So yeah. I got kicked out of a Halloween party for being unpopular. Welcome to adulthood.

When the rain started pouring down, I was half-hoping the next bus would be a metaphorical one. As in: my one-way ticket to the big goodbye. If I stretched myself out in the street, would the bus just roll right over me? Right then, it was a tempting notion.

Yeah, that’s how bad it was. I was done with everything.

My grades were terrible. Everyone at school made fun of me for carelessly saying that a couple of our female teachers were really, really pretty. I more or less got bullied every day. My mom said this would happen when I came out.

Well, really, she hadn’t said much. She’d yelled a lot, that was for sure. I could still hear her words, echoing in my head. “It’s all gonna lead towards those stupid scam art schools and being surrounded by a bunch of queers! Is that what you want, Lily? Get yourself a crew cut, quit wearing makeup, stop shaving your legs, dress in baggy clothes and tell the world you’re a man-hating dyke? You make me sick.”

My dad said nothing, but only because he was too busy being a piece of shit with the other women he’s got stashed around town. He’s even had kids with some of them. My mom can’t get him to keep it in his pants, so she takes it out on me because, according to her, I’m the one who messed up her figure when I was born.

I sniffled. The rain was getting colder. I wondered how much it would cost to buy a gun and a bullet. One was all I’d need.

A voice brought me out of my miserable reverie. “Excuse me.”

I looked up, sniffling…and just like that, I forgot about wanting to die.

“Oh, you look positively drowned, poor thing…”

A woman stood in front of me, holding a massive black umbrella, elegant as a movie still. Like a black-and-white movie still from the 1920’s where the femme fatale meets a boarding school teacher, if the teacher had the habit of spanking her students and kissing them afterwards.

Hair in a tight, perfect bun. Emerald eyes framed by lashes long enough to trip over. Her high heels clicked against the wet concrete as she stepped closer – heels that didn’t even pretend to be practical, but somehow her balance in the rain was perfect. Her clothes were all elegance and poise – a long coat, pencil skirt, matching gloves – gloves! – and a large, sleek purse that reminded me of a traveler’s satchel.

I blinked at her. “I’m… fine.”

“Oh of course you are,” she said, a hint of amusement. “That’s why you’re half-naked on a bus bench in the rain, crying like a soggy cupcake.”

I pulled my legs up, shivering. “I w-wasn’t crying.”

Her eyes strayed to my thighs. Maybe… up my skirt? I wasn’t exactly being coy.

“Oh, darling.” She sat next to me, her umbrella eclipsing the storm clouds until I was, blessedly, out of the shower for the moment. Her gloved hand tilted my chin upward, eyes scanning me with clinical warmth, like she was diagnosing the exact kind of attention I’d been starved of. “You’ve been abandoned, haven’t you?”

I swallowed. This was… so forward, yet polite.

“I know the mien of being cast aside, dear.”

My throat made a pathetic little sound.

Her smile turned indulgent. “Fortunately for you, I’ve found discarded things make delightful company.” She offered me the umbrella. “Hold this for me, little one. My name is Miss Ashcroft. You’re mine, now.”

“I’m Lily… I… what did you say…?”

She opened her purse and produced a silver thermos. Then two small metal cups, hardly big enough for Victorian tea time. “Lily, you should know that I despise drinking alone. It feels bourgeois.”

I blinked. “Wh-what is it?”

She was unscrewing the lid and pouring steaming liquid into one cup. “Hot cocoa. I brought it to the theater, intending to share it with a gorgeous friend during intermission. But, alas…” She offered me one cup, warm as her smile. “I was, as your generation phrases it, ghosted. She stood me up.”

I took the cup, mostly because I was freezing, half-sure I was hallucinating this anyway.

She continued, voice comforting as a lullaby. “A disappointing start to the evening, but serendipitous in its way. You see, this benefits you.”

“How?”

“Because…” She turned to me fully, one gloved hand brushing wet hair off my cheek. “I have enough cocoa for two.”

The first sip hit like a chocolate kiss in a cup: sweet, warm, creamy, like every snow day and bedtime story I thought I’d forgotten. It coated my tongue, thick chocolate soaked in cream. My eyes fluttered shut without meaning to, and for a moment I wasn’t a stupid emotional mess in the rain. I was safe, small, and wanted, wanted by someone bigger and better than me.

I licked my lips, practically dazed by how lovely the drink was, and risked a look into her emerald eyes. The way she watched me drink made funny things happen in my heart and between my legs. She seemed to be waiting for me to say something, so I finally came out with, “This is…literally the greatest thing that’s happened to me my entire young-adult life.” I paused. “Which has lasted an entire day, so far.”

“Tragic,” she said, sipping. Then, with terrifying gentleness: “Tell me everything.”

“I’m failing school,” I said, after three sips of the cocoa and zero seconds of resistance. “I have no friends. And my mom hates me for being gay. She doesn’t want me to be a ‘man-hating dyke’. Her words.”

“This is terrible.” She inclined her head as she tilted her teacup.

“…and tonight, I got kicked out of a party that I wasn’t technically invited to in the first place.” I studied the steam that rose from my cup.

“Let me guess. You wore that delicious little costume, hoping someone would notice the lovely girl under the greasepaint and fishnets.”

I blinked. “I… what?”

She plucked at my jacket. “And yet, despite every effort, no one even nibbled.” Her gloved hand lingered just a moment too long, nearly a millimeter from my right breast. “That’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“I’m not usually like this,” I whispered. “I don’t… talk to strangers. Like, ever.”

“But I’m not a stranger,” she said, eyes glinting. “Not any more. My name is Clarissa Ashcroft. I was ghosted tonight by a bitch with no self-respect. And I’m the kind of woman who will take advantage of an opportunity, especially when she’s beautiful and lonely. Hold still.”

Words fumbled on my tongue as, with exquisite calm, she slipped a hand into her blouse and produced a silk handkerchief from between her breasts. I felt its warmth when she wiped my cheek. “There. I knew there was a pretty face under all that ruin.”

I felt my face grow hot. “I’m not pretty…”

“Don’t make me break out synonyms, child. My vocabulary is quite extensive, and we would be shivering here all evening.”

Then Clarissa… Miss Ashcroft rose with the elegance of someone who’d just finished hosting a gala, instead of consoling a would-be goth-girl going through puberty meltdown on a rain-soaked bench. She extended her hand like I was royalty. “Ordinarily, one should frown upon the notion of getting into the vehicle of a stranger one has just met. However, at this moment, I must insist you do just that.”

I blinked.

This wasn’t the 20th century. Even kids younger than me had phones and the internet and ways to get around the parental locks and age restrictions on all of it. I’d never had so much as a first date, but even I understood this situation. I knew what she was insisting on.

I was getting picked up.

What the hell?

I literally had nothing left to lose but my clothes. And my life, I figured, but that wasn’t such a big deal. “Do you… live far from here?”

Her smile curved, slow and knowing. “Not at all. I live on Lollipop Lane.”

My brain went bluescreen.

Every whispered rumor, every overheard bit of gossip, every NSFW Reddit thread involving the phrase, “Has anyone actually BEEN to Lollipop Lane?” came roaring through my mind.

Words flashed in front of my eyes: Incest. Underage girl pets. Lover. Lesbian. Sister. Mommy. Precious little daughter. Daughter. DAUGHTER.

I threw all sense of caution directly into the nearest metaphorical dumpster and placed my hand in hers. Even wearing gloves, her grip was warm.

We walked together, Miss Ashcroft’s umbrella sheltering us both. Halfway to her car – of course it was a vintage black sedan that looked like it might’ve been purloined from a noir film – I did something thrilling and very much not me.

I slipped an arm around her waist, tentative at first, then bolder. My fingers drifted lower, stopping right on the curve of her surprisingly firm backside, the fabric of her coat cool and immaculate beneath my palm. “Thank you,” I said, speaking softly.

Her step didn’t falter, but her emerald eyes cut to me, flashing. She purred. A slow, rich purr, like something feline and amused and vaguely carnivorous. The sound of someone deeply pleased, perhaps mildly aroused by being touched without having given permission.

I looked down and saw that Miss Ashcroft’s coat had shifted open just enough at the collar, the delicate silk of her blouse clinging to her skin, sheer and damp with rain. And there, visible in the soft sway of movement and light, was the dark, unmistakable outline of a bare nipple, taut and firm, unapologetically present without the cup of a brassiere to hide behind.

It could have something to do with the cold rain. But I knew it didn’t.

She said nothing more.

And neither did I.

But my hand stayed where it was, and hers never moved to stop me.

Soon to come: Chapter Two!

Note from JetBoy: As you probably know, this story’s author is the current partner of Lisa, widow of our late and much-missed site co-founder Cheryl Taggert. Suzanne was inspired to write this story by the third part of Cheryl’s erotic magnum opus “I Was the Daughter of a Porn Star,” in which the titular character (also named Cheryl, for some mysterious reason) interviews a series of women and girls who became sexually active at an early age. The basic concept of this new work may have come from Cheryl, but Suzanne brings her own distinctive approach to the idea, and it more than deserves to stand on its own. Do enjoy.

by Suzy Freeman

I am Suzanne Freeman, a PhD candidate conducting research into the sexual development of young girls. My focus is on interviewing women who have admitted to having a strong sex urge and who began to enjoy sexual encounters of a lesbian nature at an early age. I have chosen to limit my study to lesbian encounters in order to determine if a strong libido is more likely to lead young girls to seek out and indulge in sexual exploration with other girls.

For the sake of clarity and understanding, I wish to share two crucial details about myself. First, I was myself a child with a strong sex drive, a factor that led me to take on this study in the first place. Second, while I did not have sexual encounters with adults as a child, I often fantasized about such encounters once I began to have self-induced orgasms at age seven. And even then, all my fantasies revolved around other females.

***

Opening statement: The following is from the interview portion of my PhD dissertation on the sexual development of young girls. Once all of the interview material has been shared, I will end with my findings and conclusions.

My first subject is Millie, age thirty-two. Like all my interview subjects, her last name has been withheld for reasons of privacy. She is one of several subjects chosen from over seventy respondents to a request for volunteers to be interviewed about their sexual history. All respondents have admitted to considering themselves as having a stronger-than-normal sex drive. The evaluation of each subject’s level of libido was left up to the subjects themselves, since it is this belief in a robust sexual appetite that drives the focus of my research. Each potential subject was sent an initial questionnaire, and the interviewees were chosen based on their responses. Those who were the most descriptive and straightforward were far more likely to be chosen to participate.

Note: For the purposes of reading the following, “Q” indicates a question asked of the subject or a statement I made to her. “A” refers to the answer or response provided. At times when the subject is relating a story directly in the form of conversation and description, the format moves into more of a storytelling form, with dialogue and the descriptions related. This is a verbatim transcription of what was said in the various interviews. 

***

Q: Hello, Millie. How are you doing today?

A: Other than horny, as usual? I’m fine. (Millie smiles at me. Is she flirting? I suspect that this is the case)

Q: Millie, you’ve admitted to having a strong sex drive, something you became aware of at an early age. Would you care to tell us about the first sexual feelings you remember having?

A: Sure. I was very little – five years old, actually – and one day, my mother ran a bath for me. She undressed me and I climbed in. She let me play around in the water for a little while, then took a washcloth, soaped it up and began to wash me all over. I don’t really remember most of the bath, but then she started washing me between the legs; my pussy. She called it my kitty back then. I noticed right away that the washcloth felt very nice against me. She also washed by butt crack, and it felt really good there, too. I always loved it when Mom bathed me, but this was the first time she spent so much time on my private places.

Anyway, once she was done washing me, I wanted to stay in the tub and play some more, so Mom ran some more hot water into the tub to warm it up and left me on my own for a few minutes. When she was gone from the room, I picked up the washcloth and began using it to rub my kitty. I had no idea this had anything to do with sex, in fact, I didn’t even know what sex was. All I knew was I really, really liked what Mom did to me. So I ground that wet flannel into my pussy until those wonderful feelings came back, even better than before. Then I reached down further and did the same thing to my butthole.

After a little while, Mom came back into the bathroom to get me out of the tub and caught me playing with myself. I remember she stood there a moment, watching me with this, well, surprised look on her face. Now, I realize it was more than just surprise she was feeling. It was, what’s the word I want… interested, I guess. She sure seemed to enjoy watching me. In fact, when I stopped, Mom said I could keep going if I wanted to.

I remember smiling at her and saying how it felt good on my kitty, rubbing it with the washcloth like I was. Mom said she knew what I meant, that she liked to rub her kitty too. Soon as she said that, I remember thinking how much I’d like to see my mother touch herself, but I was much too shy to say so.

Anyway, I sat back in the tub and kept rubbing myself with the washcloth with Mom watching me. Finally, she pulled down her shorts and panties, put the lid of the toilet down and sat, telling me she was going to rub her kitty some too, if I was okay with that. Of course, I told her that was fine, and she reached down and started touching between her legs while watching me do the same.

Again, I had no idea this had anything to do with sex. I just knew it felt good, so I assumed my mother liked it, too. Sure, I enjoyed seeing Mom doing it, though to me it was more interesting than arousing. Of course, she was getting one hell of a thrill watching me masturbate, though I had no way of knowing that.

The washcloth was starting to feel scratchy down there, so I told Mom I needed to stop. When I explained why, she told me to soap my hands up and wash myself that way. It felt wonderful, even better than before, so I got right back into rubbing my kitty.

Before very long, Mom began to shiver and moan, a look on her face like she was in pain. It scared me at first, but she was quick to tell me not to worry, that what was happening to her was really, really good, and I shouldn’t stop what I was doing, so I didn’t.

Once Mom finished coming, I still had no idea what had happened, so she explained about how women and girls could give themselves wonderful feelings when they touched “down there,” like I was doing right then. I told her I knew that, ‘cause I was still rubbing my kitty, after all… but Mom said I didn’t know, not really. She said what I felt right then was like getting one small spoonful of ice cream, but what just happened to her was getting a big bowl of ice cream with hot fudge on top. She said that big, wonderful sensation was called an orgasm.

Naturally, I wanted to have that special feeling, so I asked her how I could make it happen. She told me it was hard for someone my age, because it can take a long time and your hand gets tired of rubbing. Then Mom said she had an idea. What if she touched my kitty herself until I had an orgasm? Did I want to give that a try? Of course, I said yes!

Q: So what happened then?

A: I got out of the tub and Mom dried me off. She said I might as well stay naked. So she led me down the hall to her room and got me to lay down on the bed. My little sister was off taking her nap, and my dad was at work.

Q: You have a sister?

A: Yes. Two, actually, but I only had one when I was that age.

Q: Were they also interested in sex at an early age?

A: Yes. Very much so.

Q: We can talk about that in a moment. What did your mother do to bring you to orgasm?

A: First she touched my clit, very gently. Then she bent down and put her mouth on me, on my pussy. I was startled at first – I mean, that’s where I peed from! But she started to lick me, her tongue felt so amazing that I never got the chance to be grossed out. It was so good… a lot better than the washcloth or my soapy hand.

Q: And you came?

A: Yes. It took a little while, but I did. And it was colossal. The sensations were so big that it almost scared me, like I might explode. Once I caught my breath, Mom asked me if she was right when she compared the feeling of just touching myself with a genuine orgasm. You know, the spoonful of ice cream versus the big bowl. And I told her, yes, she was right. .

Q: Did your mother ever do anything else sexual with you?

A: Oh, my, yes. We would get together to make love at least several times a week.

Q: Does that mean you performed sex acts on your mother? Or was it just her pleasuring you?

A: Our second time together, she asked if I would use my mouth on her. I was nervous, yeah, but I also wanted to make her happy, so I tried it. The taste of her cunt was odd to me at first, but I got to like it right away. And before you ask… yes, I did make my mother come.

We were snuggling together afterwards, and that’s when Mom taught me how to kiss. Real kisses, with our tongues. I really liked doing that!

Then she told me what we were really doing – making love. I thought it was just us doing something nice for each other… but really, it was sex. I had a little trouble wrapping my head around that, the idea of me and Mom being like, y’know, girlfriends. But I wanted to keep doing those things with her, so I didn’t let it bother me. I decided I liked being my mother’s lover.

Q: You say your sisters have strong libidos as well, and it showed up early in life. Did your mother get sexual with them, too?

A: Absolutely! She initiated them as well, starting when they were around the same age I was for my first time. All four of us are lovers to this day. My father died of a heart attack four years ago, and he never did find out about us. Or if he did, he never let on.

My sisters have children, as do I, and we have initiated our children into a life of incest. My nieces’ fathers are clueless, though my husband is also involved in very mild sex play with our daughters. But you did tell me you were only interested in my lesbian experiences.

Q: Yes, I’m limiting these interviews to a discussion of lesbian sex and female masturbation. What are the ages of your sisters?

A: Well, my mother was very young when she had me, only seventeen. So she was twenty-one, maybe twenty-two when we became intimate. My father was fifteen years older than Mom. My sisters are now thirty and twenty-five. Randi, the oldest, is married with two daughters, Lori and Riley. Cassie, the baby of the family, is divorced, but has a daughter named Melinda.

Q: All girls! How wonderful!

A: Yes. We feel very fortunate.

Q: Just one question about your husband: does he have penetrative sex with your daughters?

A: Absolutely not. Touching and oral, nothing more.

Q: How old are your daughters?

A: Emily is twelve, Piper is nine.

Q: And your nieces?

A: Lori is eleven, and Riley is nine. Cassie’s daughter is six.

Q: Do your daughters and nieces also have sex with your mother, their grandmother?

A: Of course. And with each other as well. Piper and Riley are only one month apart in age, so they act more like twins than cousins. They want to get married one day; isn’t that sweet?

Q: It is. I’d love to see that happen. How old were you the first time you had sex with someone outside your family?

A: I was eleven. It was my best friend, Alex, short for Alexandra. No, my first sex was NOT with a boy.

Q: Can you tell me about it?

A: Well, we had talked about sex a lot, of course, being eleven. It started out as discussing cute boys we knew, which actors and singers we crushed on. That sort of thing. Obviously, I couldn’t talk about the sex I was having with my mother and sisters, but I did start mentioning girls and women I thought were hot. You know, to find out if Alex could also be into girls. I hadn’t been able to figure that out one way or the other. It frustrated me, because I was crushing on her in a big way by then.

One night, her mom let her sleep over at my house, and well, that’s when things changed between us. You might say our relationship took an immediate turn for the better.

Q: Please tell me about it.

(Note: From here, I will relate the story as Millie told it as a story and not an interview, except where I ask the occasional question.)

The first time we had a sleepover, Alex stayed at my house. My mother was delighted. She thought I should have at least one girlfriend of my own, a girl I wasn’t related to. Oh, and if we did end up fooling around, Mom would want me to give her all the details later while we both masturbated.

Both my sisters also had crushes on Alex, but being the oldest, I threatened to paddle their butts if they bothered us during the sleepover. This was MY night. I wasn’t a complete bitch, though; I promised Randi and Cassie that I’d go down on them the next day. It’s funny, though – once Alex and I were a for-real couple, she was the one who suggested having fun with my sisters, once I told her I’d had sex with them both. That was one incredible night – I’ll have to tell you about it, some other time.

Okay, sleepover night. We had supper, then me and Alex played video games for a while. When it was time for bed, Mom gave us each a goodnight kiss, we I went upstairs to my room.

“Did you see that? Your mom kissed me. Right on the mouth!”

I shrugged. “She kisses me all the time.”

“Yeah, but you’re her daughter.”

“Well, maybe my mom has the hots for you!” I was teasing, of course, but also not. I knew Mom would  walk over hot coals to get Alex into bed.

She made a face. “Ewww! Don’t be disgusting.”

That irked me, but I let it pass. “I like to take a bath before going to bed. Wanna join me?”

“Sure.” She said it casually, but I could tell the idea had her thinking. We’d never seen each other naked before, and I wondered if she wanted to get a good look at me with my clothes off. Alex had a sister, but she was a lot younger, and that wouldn’t be the same as seeing someone your own age.

We started to undress, then I had a really wild idea.

“Wanna have some fun?” I asked.

She looked at me, and I think she wondered if I was going to ask if she wanted to fool around. She sort of blinked and stared a moment. “How?” she said.

I really did want to do something sexual with Alex, but this wasn’t quite it. My plan was more about getting her to do something daring that involved us getting naked. “We finish taking our clothes off, then run down the hallway to the bathroom?”

Alex frowned. “What’s fun about that?”

I poked her. “Doing it and not getting caught, goofball!”

“Oh! I get it now.” She seemed a little disappointed, as if she’d hoped for more. That’s when I really began to suspect Alex wanted us to be more than friends.

“So what d’ya say? Wanna do it?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

I’d already unbuttoned my shirt. Now I started stripping as fast as I could. “Last one naked has to come back to the room without a towel!”

“Oooohh!” Alex squealed, then wriggled out of her t-shirt. We undressed quickly, though I ended up pretending to fumble with my panties to make it a tie. So I said, “Well, I guess we have to both come back to my room naked.” The way she grinned, I think she knew I’d set that up.

As we stood nude before each other for the first time, I decided to make it obvious that I was checking her out. I looked her up and down, taking in every inch of what she had. Damn, what a cutie she was!

I was thrilled to see Alex doing the same thing. At that age, I hadn’t begun to develop yet, but she seemed to like what she saw, exploring my bare body with her eyes, even lingering on my pussy.

When she did that, I spun around and said, “Don’t forget to check out my butt.”

She giggled as she gave it a good long look, then turned around and said, “Guess you should check out mine, too.”

By then, I was starting to feel seriously horny. I’d been excited earlier, but now I could feel that familiar throbbing between my legs, the kind that made me want to masturbate. Later, Alex told me she was feeling the exact same way. Of course, neither of us said anything about that.

You should know that I didn’t really mind being seen running around the house naked. Our parents had a pretty casual attitude about that kind of thing. I sort of hoped that Mom or my sisters would catch us streaking down the hall. Didn’t happen that way, but it sure was exciting to think about.

After our race to the bathroom, we shared a laugh, then got in the bathtub together. While we washed ourselves, I decided to tell Alex about the time I figured out how nice the washcloth felt between my legs and the fun that led to.

When I described how I’d discovered the nice feelings I could get from rubbing myself “down there,” Alex  listened carefully. She was squirming around some, enough so I knew she was turned on.

When I had finished, I asked her, “Have you ever made yourself feel good like that?”

“You mean masturbation?” she said.

She knew the word! “Yeah.”

“How’d you find out about it?”

Alex gave a little shrug. “I’m not sure. Seems like I’ve always known.”

“What’s the first time you did it just ‘cause it felt good?”

“I was in bed, lying on my stomach reading with a pillow between my legs. I was sort of shifting around, trying to get comfy, and I started wondering why it felt so good. I wasn’t actually, like, masturbating. Not yet. Heck, I didn’t even know what masturbation was. All I knew was it felt good to rub myself on my pillow.”

“Okay, so when was your first orgasm?”

She blushed. “I’d rather not say.”

That threw me off. “Well… were you alone?”

“Sorry, but I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”

That’s when it hit me. Neither of us were alone for our first orgasms. I was with Mom, but who was the first to make Alex come?

“Then you were with someone else, huh?” I said, almost willing to tell her about me and my mother to get the truth from her.

“Please don’t ask me about that, Millie!” she said. “It’s making me uncomfortable.”

I could see she really didn’t want to tell me anything, so I dropped the subject. To this day, I have no idea who gave Alex her first orgasm. Then again, she never did find out about me and Mom. It sort of became a forbidden topic between us. I’ve often wondered if it had been her mother. Looking back, I’m fairly certain it was. She and her mom were very close, just like Mom and I were and still are. It’s too bad we never discussed it.

As we got out of the tub, there was a quick knock on the bathroom door, then it swung open. It was my mom. As usual, she hadn’t waited for an invitation to enter. I just stood there, but Alex sort of shrieked and covered herself.

Mom looked at her and smiled. “Honey, we’re all girls here. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” She looked at me and said, “Exactly like Millie,.” then gave me a pat on the bottom.

“You’re so silly, Mom,” I said, giggling. I wanted to put Alex at ease, show her I was fine with being nude around my mother.

I guess it worked, because Alex took a deep breath and dropped both hands to reveal her body. To Mom’s credit, she didn’t ogle my friend, just took in with a glance and said, “Sorry to interrupt, girls. I’m giving Randi a bath and need the baby shampoo.” With that, she moved to the tub, retrieved the bottle of shampoo and made a quiet exit, giving Alex a casual glance and a smile along the way.

Of course, Mom only wanted a good look at Alex naked. There was already a big bottle of baby shampoo in the master bathroom, and she never bathed Randi this late at night. I was already picturing her in bed later that night, rubbing one out to the image of a naked Alex.

After she’d left, I grabbed a towel and said, “Here. I’ll dry your back, then you can dry mine.”

“Okay,” she said with a grin, my mother’s unannounced visit already forgotten.

As I dried Alex, I said, “Your butt is your backside, right? So I’ll dry that, too.” Reaching down, I spent the next full minute massaging her ass, with nothing but the towel between us. I noticed her eyes close, and she began to sway a bit, so I knew my touches were very much appreciated. I wondered if my friend and I would be enjoying any other special touches that evening..

I turned around, presenting my back to Alex, and she got the hint right away. She spent at least as much time drying my butt as I’d taken on hers. It felt wonderful, and my pussy had started to drip before she was done. It seemed to really enjoy touching my butt, even with the towel between her hands and my ass.

We raced each other back to my room, and when the door was shut behind us, I said, “Listen. I hope this doesn’t bother you, but I always sleep naked.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t like pajamas, and I hate the way panties get wedged in my butt crack. Do you mind?”

She shook her head. “No. Not at all.”

“You ever sleep nude?”

“Not all the way through the night. But it’s okay if you want to.”

“Cool!” I crawled onto the bed, taking my time with it so Alex could get a good look at my pussy and butthole, then slipped beneath the covers.

She climbed into bed beside me. “You mind if I sleep naked, too?”

“Heck, no!” I said. “It’s more fun with two.”

We lay there, talking about boys we liked, and soon my pussy was screaming for attention. Alex was very open about what she’d like to do to this one boy in our class, which played havoc with our ability to fall asleep.

I had a full bed, not a queen size, so our bodies were close enough to touch, which only got me more stirred up. I finally turned onto my side after telling Alex goodnight, and lay there, knowing damn well I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep unless I had an orgasm.

Alex settled in, and we lay side by side, our butts barely touching. I tried to ignore the thrill it gave me to have her cute ass against mine, wondering if she felt the same way.

Time passed, about half an hour. I wondered if Alex was asleep. That’s when I felt her move, and realized she was still awake.

She moved again. Not much, but enough. Then again. Oh, wow, Alex was masturbating!

As you can imagine, I was beside myself with excitement. My pussy was on fire, but I held back for a minute, waiting for Alex to get herself too keyed up to stop when I joined in.

It didn’t take long. Her breath was getting louder, and it was obvious she was doing her utmost to get off. I could actually hear the sounds of her fingers as they worked the slick folds.

It was time. I reached down to my own slit and began playing with myself. She just kept going, even when I moaned and whimpered, letting her know that, yeah, I was into this.

Alex started making sounds of pleasure herself, so I knew we’d passed the point of no return. So I sat up and said, “Listen, I know what you’re doing, and you know what I’m doing… so we might as well be open about it.” Then I switched on my bedside lamp.

She blinked at me in the light. I guess she was waiting to see what I was up to. Giving her a big grin, I said, “Wanna do it with me? We can watch each other.”

She grinned back and said, “Sure.”

I pushed the covers completely off the bed, lay down and got back to masturbating. Alex looked on for a moment, then stretched out next to me and did the same.

We fingered ourselves for a minute or so, then I realized we’d have a much better view if we weren’t on our backs.

“Here, sit up,” I told her. She did, and I shoved a pillow behind her back, then mine. We settled in and returned to touching ourselves.

MUCH better. Now we each had a front row seat to the action. Me and Alex could easily see our busy hands as we stroked, massaged and groped our juicy cunts.

Soon our fingers were a blur. We’d been touching ourselves for at least five minutes before I spoke up, and desperately needed to come. God, watching Alex masturbate was so incredibly hot. I couldn’t wait to see her get off!

Her orgasm hit first, and I watched in awe as my friend’s body spasmed and shook with the intensity of it. Moments later, it was her turn to see me come – and I don’t mind telling you that I gave Alex a hell of a good show, shaking the bed with the force of my release.

We lay back down together, catching our breath and mopping the sweat from our foreheads. Then we went into a giggle-fest before coming together in a hug. Looking back, I think we lost it because of the sheer delight we felt, knowing that we both wanted this, and knowing it would almost certainly happen again. Those were giggles of relief in more ways than one.

***

Q: Did the two of you do more?

A: Not that night, but we masturbated together often after that. We’d have contests to see who could come first and all that. Before long, we moved on to touching each other.

Q: Did you ever engage in oral sex with Alex?

A: Absolutely. It was maybe two months after that first time. It became a thing where we’d log on the internet and watch porn while fingering each other. Neither of our moms put blockers on our computers, so we could go to any website we liked.

Anyway, one night when Alex was sleeping over at my house, I logged on and opened Pornhub. We had only watched hetero sex before that night, but I really wanted to sneak in something with lesbian content, so I clicked on a video with a guy and two girls.

Oh, man, when the girls started kissing and touching each other, it felt like the temperature in my room went up ten degrees! We watched that for a few minutes. Finally, Alex suggested I find one with only girls in it.

I told her, “Sure, we can do that,” but inside I was going YES!! My heart was racing like mad because I sort of suspected where watching lesbians fuck would lead us, and I was right.

In the very first clip we watched, two girls did oral with each other. Alex couldn’t look me in the eye when she said, “Have you ever thought about us doing that?”

I looked at her and replied, “Lots of times.” Then I told her the truth, how I wanted to that first time we masturbated for each other, and every other time since then.

Alex burst into laughter. “Oh, God, me too.” Like me, she wanted to try oral that first time, too, but was scared to suggest it.

We ended up in a sixty-nine. She sure didn’t seem like a novice at it, either, so I figured Alex had done it before with whoever it was she had messed around with the first time she came. Like I said, I never did find out who that was.

***

Closing Statement: At this point, we ended this session, making plans to meet again. Millie said she would prefer something less public for next time, so we agreed to meet at my apartment for Session 2/Millie.

As a further note to Session 1 of the interview, we did not do anything sexual with each other that first time. However, I did go home and masturbate after we parted. I later found out that Millie actually drove into a deserted corner of a shopping center’s parking deck and got herself off before driving home and having sex with her two daughters. Needless to say, Millie and I were looking forward to our upcoming session. This is, after all, a study of the female sex drive.

Session2/Millie will be submitted in the coming days.

Soon to come: Chapter Two!

The Story Thus Far

Chapter One: Mallory Kalvornek and her lover Julie Hanson have returned to Bronning, Minnesota, for the first time in years to catch up with friends and family. Meanwhile, their old friend (and occasional sex partner) paramedic Nettie Hastings fights to save a life, her lover Hannah drops by with an unexpected surprise, Terry Wilder grapples with writer’s block… and two little girls living in a trailer park named Heather and Gina are being carefully observed by a hidden stranger.

Chapter Two: Mallory and Julie get together at Nettie’s home with Nettie and her lover Hannah, Nettie’s friend Terry Wilder, Terry’s teen daughter Halee, and Mallory and Julie’s friend (and occasional sex partner) Cindy. Gossip is exchanged, memories shared, and an unexpected attraction between Mallory and Terry Wilder reveals itself. Meanwhile, the mother of the two trailer park girls Heather and Gina goes out for a night on the town, oblivious to the presence of the man spying on her home.

Chapter Three: At Nettie’s place, Nettie and Hannah leave the others to indulge in a bit of romantic pleasure, while Julie and her old friend Cindy get it on with Terry’s teen daughter Halee. As for Mallory, she has repaired to Terry’s place for one of her occasional bouts of heterosexual action. Appetites are indulged, confidences shared. Meanwhile, Heather and Gina are abducted from their trailer home by a mysterious and very scary man.

Chapter Four: At Nettie’s place, four women and Halee Wilder greet the morning after an evening of lesbian abandon. Later that day, Mallory rejoins Julie, Nettie, Cindy and Hannah for a day of fishing. Halee returns home and spends the day upgrading her internet in preparation for promised to be a fun night of video chat sex with her girlfriend Bethany. Meanwhile, Grace and Heather are in the custody of the mysterious man, who seems to takes delight in terrorizing them.

Chapter Five: After their day of fishing, Nettie, Julie, Cindy, Mallory & Hannah engage in a five-woman sexfest inside a tent… and with the use of Cindy’s phone, their old friend and occasional bedmate Emma attends the orgy virtually. In the midst of their abandon, Nettie has a weird, vague memory flashback that leaves her shaken, but she conceals it from the others. Back home, Halee and her new love interest Bethany (Hannah’s daughter) are having long-distance sex via their laptops. 

Chapter Six: Nettie has a heart-to-heart with Hannah about her personal demons. Later, she gets a call from Agent Bridgett Ramscone, who has an unsettling request: for Nettie to go through the documentation of her own childhood kidnapping — and the murder of her sister — as a possible way to gain insight into the abduction of Heather and Gina (who are still being emotionally abused by their kidnapper, but are also taking steps to escape). Nettie is shaken, but agrees to do what she can. 

For a list of the characters from the story you are now reading, visit this page. 

For a list of the characters from the previous two stories that you will encounter here as well, visit this page.

And now, dear readers, we make our way into the next installment. Read on…

by Rachael Yukey

So if you want to know 
Where I’ve been hiding all these years
Follow the tears

Heaven and Hell, 2009

“Nettie. Nettie!” 

A poke in her side. Anna swimming into hazy focus, the bruise on her cheek and the gash on her forehead standing out in sharp relief. A sick simultaneous feeling of burning heat and shivering cold. Huddled together on a moldy carpet, backs propped against the ruins of a cupboard. Wrapped in the blankets their captor had tossed at them, blankets that smelled of poo or maybe worse, warming their hands over a barely-working propane heater. Somewhere in the back of a fever-shrouded mind, the knowledge they’d both be frozen like ice statues if it wasn’t for that pathetic little heater.

“Nettie, you’ve got to wake up.”

“Hurts—”

“The doctor said you can’t lie down too much, remember?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Nettie, come ON.”

With a groan, the dark-haired girl shifts herself to a more upright sitting posture. She gulps in a lungful of air, the breath rattling audibly in her chest, and then doubles over in an agonized fit of coughing, lungs and throat aflame.

“Where’s Creepface?” she gasps.

“I dunno.” Anna’s face is pale, drawn. “I thought I heard him outside talking to someone a while ago, some lady. But no one came in.”

“Anna—” 

“What?”

“I dunno.” Whatever she’d begun to say was already gone, fluttering at the edge of her subconscious and vanishing into the ether. So cold—so hard to think.

“Nettie, we have to get out of here.”

“To where?”

“I don’t know! I don’t even know where we are, and I know the door is locked. But you need to go back to the doctor. And he’s going to keep hurting us, Nettie, I don’t think—” 

Tears swim in Anna’s eyes, but Nettie sees it through a foggy haze, as if from far away. Fading, focusing, fading—Anna’s voice again—

“Nettie! Nettie, oh God please wake up—”

“Wake up, damn you.”

Nettie was startled into consciousness by the sound of her own voice. Every muscle was rigid, her knuckles pressed against eyelids screwed tightly shut. Dropping her hands to the arms of her chair, she released her breath and opened her eyes.

The imagery on her laptop screen had not changed. Anna’s still, pale face, glazed-over eyes staring sightlessly to the heavens. A deep laceration on the upper right forehead, a fading contusion on the left cheek. A fresh-looking bruise to the left mandible, which was angulated slightly, clearly displaced—when had that happened?

Flipping the laptop screen closed, Nettie reached for her phone.

Bridgett picked up on the first ring. “Got something, Nettie?”

“There was a second.”

“An accomplice, you mean?”

“Yeah. Looking at those pics and reading the case report did bring back a few things. We never had eyes on her, at least I didn’t, but Anna and I both heard Brentshaw talking to a woman, a couple of times. I remember hearing them talking from another room of the trailer, and Anna telling me about hearing them outside.”

“How sure are you?”

Nettie closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. “I can’t say it’s a hundred percent. I was damn sick, Bridgett. I have memories of just fading in and out, talking to Anna one second and her screaming at me to wake up the next. Literally anything I remember has a very decent chance of just being a goddamn fever dream. But this—it seems fairly clear.”

Shifting in the chair, she pulled herself upright to soothe her aching back. “Besides, even if there was an accomplice, I don’t know that we can even begin to guess who it might have been. This is a very cold trail, Bridgett.”

“I know it. Anything else?”

“No memories in particular, but a few observations about the case report details. I doubt like hell it’s anything you or the FBI people haven’t thought of.”

“I’d like to hear it anyway.”

“So—Anna and I were found in an abandoned trailer three miles deep in the woods, roughly fifteen miles from home. Let’s say we double that; call the radius thirty miles. I mean, the perp isn’t gonna want to go too far down the highway with two captive girls in his vehicle. He gets pulled over, he’s fucked.”

“That’s the assumption we’ve been operating under,” Bridgett agreed. “Most people have no idea what a thirty mile radius even means in terms of ground to cover. It already borders on unmanageable; anything bigger is just hopeless. But where are you going with this?”

“Well, the area we’re looking at now is just as full of back pastures, untillable woodlands, abandoned iron mines, you name it. Junk, debris, and unused dwellings all over hell and gone. Is there even a procedure for trying to investigate all the possibilities?”

Bridgett gave an audible sigh. “Not a good one. The FBI is using satellite imagery to try and narrow down potential sites, with an eye towards anything that gives any indication of having been accessed recently. Obviously that’s so far from perfect it’s laughable; just for starters we have no idea how many sites might be completely obscured by tree cover. But there’s no way we can stomp that much ground. Let’s add to that the fact that every site we can view is on someone’s land. It’s not reasonable to ask for warrants to investigate every single possibility. There has to be some kind of process of elimination, and anything they pick is going to be arbitrary to an extent.”

Nettie chewed on the inside of her cheek. “What about that trailer park they were taken from? Forbes, Minnesota—it’s like the ghetto comes to fairyland from what I can see. A mobile home park literally in the middle of the pine forest, a fair number of vacant lots, not a single trailer newer than the eighties, half of them unoccupied—from the satellite photos in the case file, I can see two bare trailer frames that no one ever bothered to remove from the lots. Can I assume all the empty trailers have been searched, not to mention the vacant house over by that scrapheap half a mile away?

“That all got checked within the first few hours, Nettie.”

“Dammit. I got nothing, Bridgett. You could check out any female relatives or associates of Brentshaw’s, but I don’t think it’s anything you can hang your hat on.”

“No, not really.” Bridgett’s voice was contemplative. “Let’s switch gears for a second. Something I always found interesting associated with your abduction: you were found because a 911 call from a cellphone was traced to your location. The caller never spoke, but the line stayed open for a while and the operator could hear muffled voices, along with various other noises she couldn’t identify. Do you remember anything about that?”

Nettie hesitated. Ever since she’d read that part of her case file, there had been something drifting around her subconscious, a monster lurking behind her temples seeking its way into the sun. Finally she took a deep breath. “I didn’t know about it till I read the file just now. But reading it triggered something; I’m just not sure what. It’s almost like—like—this is gonna sound dumb. But it’s like something my subconscious doesn’t want me to know about. Does that make any sense at all?”

“More than you might think. But that aside, cell phones were just starting to become common in those days, and smartphones were barely a thing. The account was one of those cheap Nokia phones with the prepaid plans they used to sell at WalMart, and the phone was never found. The only reason the call wasn’t dismissed as a prank and hung up on is because there were kids missing, and the 911 operators were on the alert for anything unusual. The lady who took the call sent it up the chain instead of hanging up and having another jelly donut, which is damn near miraculous. Otherwise, you’d never have been located.”

Nettie’s fingers drummed on the arm of her chair. “That’s what I got out of reading it. We weren’t found because some smart agent made the right deductions. Brentshaw must have got careless, left his burner phone lying around, then Anna or I got hold of it and managed to get a call in. Obviously not something we can duplicate. Dammit.” She realized that her voice was becoming strident, and drew in a steadying breath.

“Nettie.” Bridgett’s voice was gentle but firm. “Do not work yourself into a state over this. The odds aren’t in our favor here, and we knew that going in. I contacted you because we had to try. How long have you been staring at those files now?”

Nettie glanced at her watch. “Five hours, give or take.”

“Put ‘em down. That’s a direct order from your supervising agent. Get yourself a meal and a hot bath, and look at them again in the morning.”

“Bridgett, those girls are still out there—”

“And you’re not going to glean anything from those files that will help them in your current state. Hell, the odds are against you coming up with anything at all, and we both know it. Get some rest, and then start fresh.”

Nettie rubbed her eyes. They felt gritty; overused. “All right, you win. If I think of anything else, I’ll give you a shout.”

“Sounds good. And I’ll pass what you said about a female accomplice to the FBI people. Who knows, that might even be the lead we’re looking for.” She didn’t sound optimistic.

***

An hour later Nettie lay on her couch, hair still damp from the shower, an untied bathrobe wrapped around her otherwise nude frame. I have a real house now, with a way better bed—and my go-to spot is still on the couch, naked, with music blasting. Her lips curled upward in a weary smile. Metal from a bygone age blared forth from the speakers, Black Sabbath circa 1972. Ozzy Osbourne declaring that try your hardest, you’ll still be a loser.

The tidal wave of memories from that year in Dickson washed over her again, but this time she let it rush past, allowing the undisciplined swirls and eddies of random imagery to sweep across her consciousness, enough to momentarily blot out the present.

But maybe not so random. There was a focal point, and it was Black Sabbath, her gateway drug to the world of all things heavy. An afternoon in the Hansons’ living room, Mallory Kalvornek over to spend the night, practicing songs for her student band on Uncle Jason’s keyboard. One of them was a Sabbath tune, wasn’t it? Yes—”Computer God”! A later, leaner, more muscular Sabbath, with Ronnie James Dio on vocals. She’d asked to hear the song again, and Mallory had played the whole album for her. Dehumanizer. Fucking beast of a record.

“Wow, Jamie. You sure have a lot of Black Sabbath records.” The solemn dark-haired girl stands before a shelf full of vinyl, finger tracing the spines. 

“I have more on CD.” The lanky teenager, her chestnut hair swept back in a careless ponytail, moves to a lazy-susan media shelf, turns it, and splays her fingers across a half-dozen jewel cases. “There are a few from the 90s that were never released on vinyl, and a couple others I just haven’t been able to find in record stores. But sooner or later vinyl’s going to make a comeback, and a bunch of stuff will come out then. Wait and see.”

“I like Dehumanizer a lot,” says Nettie. “That singer they have—uh, what’s his name?”

Jamie giggles. “It’s not that simple. Ronnie James Dio wasn’t their only singer. He’s not even the first! That was Ozzy Osbourne. Then—”

“Yeah, you played one of his records for me!” Nettie blurts.

“One of his solo albums, sure. But he started out in Sabbath. He was on the first, uh, eight albums I think. Then they got Dio for a couple albums in the early eighties. Dehumanizer is actually from the second time he was in the band, in the nineties. They recorded with like three other singers in between.”

“That’s just freakin’ complicated,” Julie Hanson puts in. She and Mallory are nestled on the love seat against the opposite wall of Jamie’s attic bedroom, arms wrapped around each other.

Jamie tosses an amused glance over her shoulder. “If you think that’s whacked out, ask me about Deep Purple some time.” Her attention returns to the girl by her side. “Wanna hear some of it?” 

Nettie nods her head vigorously. “Sure!”

“Okay—” Jamie pulls a record from the shelf, shaking the inner sleeve carefully from the cardboard jacket. “Black Sabbath Volume Four. It’s from 1972, and I think it’s the best one with Ozzy.” She holds out the sleeve, record still contained within, an inviting smile on her face. “C’mere, Nettie. I’ll talk you through putting it on.”

As the dark, brooding strains of the opening track permeate the room, Nettie and Jamie turn towards the love seat, two sets of eyebrows arching at the sight of Julie and Mallory locked in a passionate kiss, each with a hand down the front of the other’s pants. 

Jamie’s eyes widen in alarm, darting to Nettie and back again. “Hey, whoa, girls, it’s not just—”

Mallory disengages her mouth from Julie’s, a shuddering exhalation exploding from her at what looks to be a truly intense wave of pleasure. “Relax,” she murmurs. “She’s been initiated. Nettie, why don’t you take Jamie over to the bed and show her what we taught you?” 

The dark-haired girl smiles up at the uncertain teenager at her side and takes her by the hand. The teen hesitates, then allows herself to be led to the bed.

“You’re wrong, Jamie,” mumbled the lightly dozing woman on the couch. “Sabotage is the best Sabbath with Ozzy. But Volume Four is pretty fucking righteous.” In her sleep, Nettie smiled.

***

A noise in the dark. Music, but not the dark, distorted, ominous sludge of Black Sabbath. Carnival sounds, a calliope, or maybe the music blared by the ice cream truck guy—and when did Bronning get a friggin’ ice cream truck?

Phone. It was the goddamn phone. Dragging herself up from the murky depths of deepest slumber, Nettie scrabbled around on the end table, fingers finally closing on the offending device. She forced her eyes to focus on the screen. Hannah.

She swiped the green button. “Hey.” Even the single syllable came out shaky and slurred.

“Oh, honey, were you asleep?”

“No biggie. Christ, what time is it?”

“About seven.”

“PM?” Nettie ventured tentatively.

“Antoinette, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just kinda out of it. I lay down on the couch maybe half an hour ago. Must’ve passed out.”

“Damn, I was hoping it’d been longer than that. Like, maybe you slept all afternoon.”

“Well, that was the plan,” said Nettie. “but Ramscone had a case she wanted me to look at. It ate up a good chunk of the day.”

“I thought you were free to tell them no.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to.” There was an edge to Nettie’s voice.

“Don’t snap at me, Antoinette,” Hannah’s tone was also a bit chilly.

Nettie’s breath whooshed out of her. “Sorry. It’s kind of a shitty case, and it’s time-sensitive. Long story. I’ll probably be working on it some more tomorrow.”

“Don’t you work an ambulance shift tomorrow night?”

“I’m a big girl, Hannah. I’ve got this.”

Hannah blew out her breath audibly, and Nettie cringed. Here you go again. Keep this up, and Hannah will be gone like all the others.

“Hannah, I am so sorry,” she said. “The case I’m working on has me a little upset, is all. It’s not very pleasant. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

“Can you talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay—just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

All the old knee-jerk reactions were there; the urge to tell Hannah to mind her own goddamn business was almost overpowering. Nettie suppressed it with a herculean effort. Don’t blow this, you dumb bitch. 

“I promise. And Hannah—I really am sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Mmmmm—I like the sound of that. What’ve you got in mind?”

“Dinner at the best place in Johnstown this coming weekend, followed by some tongue exercises that will blow your mind.”

Hannah snorted laughter. “I’m pretty sure the best restaurant in Johnstown is fucking Applebee’s.”

Nettie laughed too, the tension in her gut easing. “I think we can do a little better than that.”

“It’s a date. Go back to sleep; we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Night, Hannah.”

Rolling off the couch, Nettie stood indecisively for a moment, contemplating whether or not to toss down a couple of drinks before bed. In her mind’s eye she watched the amber liquid pour smoothly into the glass, enjoyed the life-affirming gurgle. Felt the smooth, slow burn down the back of her throat. Wallowed in the fuzzy-minded bliss that followed.

Then her eyes filled with tears. Face it, toots. You’re morphing into a full-blown, five-alarm alcoholic. And you sure as fuck aren’t going to help find those girls waking up tomorrow with a soggy brain. 

Angrily shoving the phone into her pocket, she stalked to her bedroom, slamming the door behind. She could feel herself fading away again almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, then a stray thought jolted her momentarily back awake. Mallory’s right. You have to talk to Hannah. You can’t keep this inside anymore.

Nettie slipped into unconsciousness on a tear-soaked pillow.

***

Heather Dulcey stalks the periphery of their enclosure, pushing experimentally on the aged timber of the walls. Thus far, it’s proven to be far more solid than it looks.

“What’re you doing, Heather?” Gina’s voice is plaintive, but steady for perhaps the first time since they were taken.

“Trying to find a way out.”

“What—what if he comes back and catches you?”

“He’s been gone all afternoon. What are you afraid of, anyhow? That we’ll get in big trouble if he catches us? We’ll get grounded or something? C’mon—help me with this!”

Gina seems to ponder that for a long moment. Then she rises, makes her way to the opposite end of the wall Heather is currently probing, and begins pushing against the siding boards.

***

“There was no reason to call in a goddamn scene flight,” Jason Hanson was saying. He and his wife Lisa lounged in matching recliners, their daughter Victoria taking up the entire loveseat, legs splayed out and back resting against the arm. Julie and Mallory were side by side on the couch.

“So we get out there,” he went on, “and the local firefighters have this thirteen-year-old girl trussed up like a chicken on a backboard. Her parents were off trying to chase down the horse that threw her, instead of tending to their injured kid. Her only complaint was neck pain, and I use the word neck in the loosest possible sense. She was so fat she didn’t have one.”

“At thirteen,” Julie was shaking her head.

“At thirteen,” Jason agreed. “She was so neckless they couldn’t get a C-collar on her.”

“How much do you think she weighed?” Victoria wanted to know. Vicky favored her mother; an oval face framed by hair that would have been light brown, had it not been dyed a flaming shade of pink.

“Oh, she knew it off the top of her head,” said Jason. “Three hundred thirty. She’d had a well-child like two days prior.”

“Ouch,” said Julie. “If I was a horse, I’d probably have thrown her too.”

“So anyway,” Jason went on, “I asked if she knew her weight. She had it right on the tip of her tongue, and then she says: ‘I know, I’m a little chubby, but it’s Covid weight. Everyone put on weight during Covid, right?’”

A chuckle went around the room. “Sounds like that kid put on everyone’s Covid weight,” Julie observed.

Jason sobered. “It’s gotten radically worse just in the decade and a half I’ve been doing this,” he said. “The obese adults are one thing, but it’s the kids that always get me. Where the hell are mom and dad while little princess is stuffing her face with an entire box of snack cakes in one sitting?”

“Working,” said Lisa. “The kids are all latchkey these days.”

Vicky glanced over at Julie. “I’m trying to even imagine what Mom and Dad would do if I started packing it on like that, or if you had.”

“Probably lock up everything in the house that wasn’t a fruit or vegetable,” Julie replied.

Mallory shrugged. “It’s not like there was ever a junk food problem in this house, anyway. Or even a convenience food problem. I remember being amazed at first at how good I ate when I was here. At home we were mostly eating microwavables. Then I come here, and Julie’s dragging me into the kitchen yelling, ‘come help me cook!’”

“You got good at it, too,” Lisa observed.

“So, what about the overweight horse-girl?” Vicky inquired.

“Actually, that was interesting,” said Jason. “I knew right off she didn’t need a thirty thousand dollar helicopter ride; ground transport to a local facility was fine. But once we’re on scene, we can’t leave her with a lower level of care. So we rode to the local hospital with the ground ambulance crew, and had our pilot meet us there.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” said Mallory.

“Oh, I’ve done it a handful of times. Hell—I did a transfer with Nettie a couple of years ago. She brought a guy from a dinky local hospital to an airfield and—well, long story, but there were complications that made air transport a problem. Nettie already knew it, too. The first thing she said was ‘maybe I should just take him by ground’.”

“And you couldn’t leave him with the ground crew,” said Julie.

“In that case,” said Jason, “we probably could have got away with it. Nettie has the same critical care endorsement I’ve got. Not a whole lot of ground medics do. But it covered all of our asses for myself and the flight nurse to just go along for the ride, so that’s how we did it. It was kinda fun to work with Nettie for a couple of hours. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen her in action.”

“Is she good?” said Vicky.

“I offered her a job,” Jason replied.

Mallory chuckled. “Not surprising. Remember how when you were in medic school she read way ahead in your textbooks, then actually explained stuff to you?”

Jason grinned. “Believe me, I do. Nothing like being shown up by a precocious fifth-grader.”

“I wonder why Nettie didn’t take you up on that job offer for flight,” Julie pondered, “since she has the certs for it. It’d pay better, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” said Jason. “It’d expand her scope of practice, too. Lots of stuff we have on the helos that ground transport doesn’t. We even have some bases up in her area, and I’ve reached out to her every time there’s been an opening. But she always gives me a polite ‘no thank you’.”

“That seems kinda weird,” said Vicky. “Why wouldn’t she want a better job?”

“You guys still don’t get it?” Mallory put in, her voice soft and contemplative.

“I think I do,” said Lisa.

“I guess I don’t,” said Jason.

“It’s about Anna,” said Mallory. “It was always about Anna. I remember her talking about that once; just about the only time I remember her ever mentioning it directly. Part of her has always believed that if there’d been an ALS ambulance right there at the beginning, her sister could have been saved. She’s staying on the ground, in a rural area with long transport times, because of Anna.”

“She’s probably wrong about that,” said Jason. “I remember the conversation, now that you mention it; all of us except Vicky were here.”

“Well,” said Lisa with a smile, “Vicky was, in a way.” She ran a hand across her now perfectly flat belly.

“I remember you telling her it was possible,” said Julie.

“And it is,” said Jason. “Just not likely. I admit to softening it a bit when she asked; what else was I gonna do? She was eleven. But based on admittedly incomplete information, I think Annamarie was in irreversible shock when they picked her up. You could have had a helicopter right there the moment they pulled them out of that trailer, and it most likely wouldn’t have mattered.”

Vicky was staring at her hands. “That really sucks. I never got to meet her.”

“None of us knew her all that well,” said Jason. “We didn’t really know Nettie either, not until she came to live here. You have to realize: my sister Clarice has some, um, monsters in her attic, and the man she married was pretty much the same. They met when they were undergoing inpatient psychiatric care. When they both had breakdowns after what happened to the girls, I was the least surprised man on the planet.”

“Whoa, I never knew Nettie’s folks had mental problems even before the kidnapping,” said Julie, eyebrows lifted.

Jason snorted. “It’s not like I was gonna tell you about it at that age. And later, I guess it just never came up. But yeah—there was some very not-good shit, long before the girls were taken. After Clarice went to Bronning to move in with Darell, she kind of kept the rest of us at a distance. We saw the girls maybe once or twice a year.”

“And it wasn’t much better than that after Nettie went home,” Julie chimed in.

“Well, for one thing, their marriage was over by then,” said Lisa. “they never did move back in together.”

“I knew hardly any of this at the time,” said Mallory, her face drawn. “It’s a good thing Nettie came here. God knows how she would have ended up otherwise.”

“I think we did a good job,” said Lisa, her face brightening a little. “It wasn’t easy, but I’m really glad we did it. She’s come a long way since then.”

Mallory and Julie shared a look, their thoughts reflected in each other’s eyes. Before departing Bronning that morning, they’d had a small glimpse of the deep pain beneath the surface of Nettie’s outward demeanor.

“She seems cool,” said Vicky. “Too bad she doesn’t live closer.”

“It’s okay—you’ve got me for the summer. What could be better than that?” Julie was grinning.

Vicky rolled her eyes. “Oh, great. I get to spend three months fending off my bitchy big sister.”

“This is the best thing that ever happened to you, kiddo,” Julie declared. “I’m back, and just when you’re old enough that I can show you all the fun stuff.” She glanced toward Jason and Lisa with a glint in her eye. “We just have to wait till the parental units are asleep—or lock ‘em in the root cellar, whichever seems easiest.”

Lisa smiled. “As if we didn’t know about all the stuff you were getting up to at the time.”

Mallory and Julie both snickered. “But did you?” said Mallory. “Did you really?”

“What I always wondered,” said Jason, “is how much of your spending money got funneled into Elaine Spencer’s hands to buy vodka in Reggie’s liquor store.”

Julie choked on a swallow of Mike’s Hard Lemonade, spluttering into her hand.

“Wait, what?” Vicky demanded.

“You knew about that?” said Mallory.

“Of course we knew,” said Lisa. “And we also trusted the two of you not to get too stupid. So long as you were just hanging out at Lake Norman with Emma and Cindy, walking instead of driving, we figured it was harmless teenage stuff. It wasn’t like those idiots doing up on meth and hot-rodding their pickups on the back roads.”

“And I knew from bitter experience,” said Jason, “that if teens get too many restrictions slapped on them, they start acting out in ways that are dangerous for realsies. You girls were pretty responsible. I won’t say I didn’t worry, but not enough to wreck your good time.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I was a pillar of virtue at that age.”

“Well,” said Julie, eyes turned to the ceiling, “there was the time that—” she shrugged. “Um. I guess it wasn’t all that much. Come to think of it, we really were kinda boring, Mal.”

“Soooo great,” said Vicky. “You’ve come back to teach me all the ways to be boring In Dickson. I can’t wait.”

Mallory burst out laughing. “Kiddo, the ways to be boring in Dickson are many, varied, and never-ending. What we need to do is bring you out to Colorado for a few weeks. Spend a day or two in Denver. I think it’s a physical impossibility to get bored in Denver.”

“I don’t know,” said Julie. Her eyes were on the ceiling again. “We’ve been back in Minnesota for all of three days, and I don’t think I’ve had this much fun in years.”

“You know,” said Mallory, “you might just have something there.”

***

With a loud crack, the partially rotted siding board gives way. Unprepared, Heather pitches forward, cracking her forehead a good one on a stud. “Ow!” she blurts. Gina, who’d been lending her weight to the effort, falls sideways, landing against Heather and knocking her to the concrete floor.

Momentarily dazed, flabbergasted at their totally unexpected success, Heather stares disbelievingly at the four-inch opening between the floor and the next board up.

“Yes!” she exults.

Gina studies the opening with somewhat less enthusiasm. “We can’t fit through there, you know.”

“Maybe not,” Heather agrees. “And I don’t think we’ll be able to break the boards above it, either. But look how busted up the cement is, down here on the edge! Maybe we can work some of it loose and crawl under.” Shifting her body around, she kicks at the cracked chunks of concrete floor, looking for one with a little bit of give. It only takes a few seconds to find it.

Soon to come: Chapter Eight!

For a list of the many characters who populate this saga, check out Dramatis Personae.

Thus far in our story…

Prologue: Hailey Ellis has returned to Morcant-On-Sea after several years away, only to find the coastal town is a shadow of its former self. Amidst this decline, Hailey navigates her various relationships, but a shocking encounter with her selkie aunt foreshadows a chain of events that will change all their lives forever.

Ch1: Several months later in the village of Derwold, the summer holidays begin for the Newton girls. Eleven-year-old Freya struggles to cope with the changes that adolescence brings, and wonders why she feels so angry and alone. To add to her unhappiness, she experiences her first period. 

Ch2: The next day, Freya has a chance meeting with Elsa Hart, wife of the new lord of Derwold Manor. A little later, Freya joins Sadie and her sister Millie for a lesson in alchemy, but things don’t quite go as planned when Millie inadvertently amplifies the potency of the love potion they’ve brewed. After the effects have worn off, Millie visits the churchyard to pay her respects to an old friend. Whilst there, she has an encounter with a black panther, and discovers she can communicate with the creature.

Ch3: Several days later, Simon and Elsa host a housewarming party in the grounds of the old manor. Elsa treats Freya to a tour of the recent restoration efforts, and the seeds are sown for a burgeoning friendship. Meanwhile, post mistress Sally Jeffries has a few too many drinks and ends up accidentally setting fire to pompous druid Bernard, then has a few choice words for Simon Derwold, who she remembers from decades before. Georgia, Sadie and Millie make their way home, where they indulge in a night of passion in the lounge, only to be interrupted by Elsa and Freya. Elsa comes to suspect her new neighbours are not all that they seem.

Ch4: The vicar of Derwold has been murdered by an unknown assailant. Unaware of the events that are about to unfold, Sadie tries to fathom the mysteries of the ancient standing stone near her cottage with the help of Freya and Millie. Later, Freya pays a visit to Derwold Manor, and she and Elsa enjoy an afternoon of passion. It turns out Elsa is using Freya for her own ends, and the eleven-year-old is tricked into revealing all their secrets.

Ch5: Sadie receives a concerning call from Vivaan Dinesh, Derwold’s resident doctor. At the surgery, she is confronted with the murdered vicar. Meanwhile, Millie rescues Bernard from the mysterious black panther, and the traumatised man confesses he’s not a real druid at all. 

Sadie sets out to investigate the vicar’s murder, and discovers that someone has set an arcane wall around the village, preventing anyone from entering or leaving. In the woods that surround Derwold, she meets Astris the dryad.

Ch6: Astris tells Sadie that Elsa is the one who has sealed off the village, though for what purpose she doesn’t know. The dryad also hints that Elsa is a witch, and that she harbours great power. Sadie researches the Derwold family and discovers they have a troubled history. She also discovers Elsa changed her name to conceal her past, and is inexplicably older than she seems. 

At the post office, Sally Jeffries tells Sadie a disturbing childhood story, in which an eight-year-old Simon tortured and killed his pet dog. Suspecting the vicar’s murder may have been Simon’s doing, Sadie hastens to Beekeeper Cottage to make sure everyone’s safe, but Freya has already gone to the manor to meet with Elsa. Sadie races to retrieve her.

Ch7: At Derwold Manor, stark truths are revealed. Elsa has sealed the village off to protect Simon. More than that, she intends to set the stage for a new world order, one where women rule and men are consigned to history. She asks Sadie and Millie to join her, but Sadie refuses. She and Freya arrive back at Beekeeper Cottage only to find Georgia and Millie missing. They are captured by Elsa’s thugs, and reunited with Georgia and Millie, the four of them are imprisoned in the manor. 

Discovering the large rock in the cellar where they are confined is actually an ancient standing stone, Millie manages to tap into its magic, and she and Sadie are transported to an unknown location. 

Ch8: Enraged, Elsa threatens to kill Georgia if Freya doesn’t tell her where Sadie and Millie have gone, but Freya manages to convince her they know nothing of their whereabouts. Taking no chances, Elsa locks them in a room full of taxidermy specimens. Freya opens up to her mother, expressing her fears and doubts.

Meanwhile, in the Cornish town of Morcant-On-Sea, a tribe of Selkie rescue a near-drowned Sadie and Millie, then point them in the direction of the lighthouse. Sadie hopes that whoever lives up there can help them get back home. Having reached their destination, they discover a strange cocoon-like object. Before they have time to consider exactly what it is or what it means, they realise someone has followed them into the lighthouse.

Ch9: Elsa uses the menhir to determine Sadie and Millie’s whereabouts. Having discovered they are in the town where she spent her childhood, the enraged woman prepares to recapture them. 

Meanwhile, Sadie and Millie meet Hailey and Derek. Hailey tells them that whatever’s sleeping inside the cocoon was once her selkie aunt, Rita. Sadie explains that she needs to get back to Derwold to rescue Georgia and Freya, but with no easy way back to the mainland, they will need to wait until morning. Meanwhile, Sadie’s cat familiar, Billy Buckham, sneaks into Derwold Manor with plans of his own.

Some time later, Millie is awakened by a strange voice summoning her to the top of the lighthouse. There she meets a spectral version of Rita, and the two of them enjoy a moment of intimacy, culminating in an exchange of old magics. Over on the mainland, Elsa makes her way towards the coast to prepare an invasion.

Ch10: Elsa raises an army of the dead and invades Morcant-On-Sea. Sadie does her best to protect Hailey and Derek, but Millie is trapped in the lighthouse and they must get to her with all haste. Fighting their way to the top, they find a very angry Elsa. Revealing her true power, the dark witch threatens to kill them all, but she has invoked the wrath of the creature slumbering inside the cocoon. It bursts free, revealing itself to be a Siren. Amidst the ensuing chaos, the creature flies off with Elsa in its grasp, and Sadie, Millie, Hailey and Derek make their escape from the destroyed town.

Safely on board Derek’s trawler and bound for Derwold, Hailey discovers the sexual nature of Sadie and Millie’s relationship. The four of them part ways in the border town of Lydney. Hailey and Derek return to Morcant to help with rescue efforts, and Sadie and Millie head home, unaware of whatever awaits them there.

Ch11: Sadie and Bernard rally the entire village to march on Derwold Manor and rescue Georgia and Freya. Meanwhile, Georgia and Freya, with the help of Billy, manage to incapacitate Simon and escape. Finally reunited, Sadie, Georgia and the girls can only watch as the manor is consumed by flames. Simon chooses to perish in his home, rather than face the music.

Some days later, with life in Derwold having returned to normal, Georgia and the girls visit Sadie at her home. Sadie reveals she must leave the village and seek out the fate of the covens and her Wiccan sisters. To mark her departure, Sadie, Georgia and the girls enjoy an intimate picnic at the waterfall glade. But watching from the trees is a mysterious figure.

Ch12: Elsa Hart lives! Having been spirited away from the lighthouse by the siren several days before, we learn how Elsa came to survive the encounter. 

Amidst an epic battle between dark witch and mythical sea creature, Elsa remembers her childhood friendship with Reeta of the Selkie, unsure why her suppressed memories choose to make themselves known now. Finally, with her power all but exhausted and her magpie familiar dead, Elsa realises with horror that the siren is Reeta, though how her old friend came to be this monster, she has no idea. If that wasn’t enough, the siren appears to be pregnant. Unable to end its life, Elsa lets the creature go.

Poisoned, and severely wounded, Elsa comes under the care of a kindly old hermit who nurses her back to health. When she is well enough to travel again, she makes a detour to a destroyed Morcant-On-Sea to find a very old, very precious clock. There she buries Minerva, her beloved familiar, and makes a tentative peace with her past. It is a greatly diminished but more reflective Elsa that returns to Derwold.

And now, dear readers, we make our way into the final installment. Read on…

by BlueJean

1

They found Rita on the eighth day of searching, floating on the surface of the water like so much flotsam, her membranous wings bent at awkward angles. She was dead. And perhaps that was a blessing.

After ferrying Sadie and Millie to the mainland, Hailey and Derek made their way back to Morcant, or whatever was left of it. The rescue teams were already there, digging through rubble and detritus. Twenty-three people had been pulled out alive. Seven more hadn’t been so lucky.

Hailey and her uncle offered what help they could, but once all of Morcant’s residents had been accounted for and ushered onto boats for evacuation, the two of them stayed behind, clambering up the collapsed cliffside to their cottage. They packed what little belongings they had room to carry, then cautiously made their way back down to the boat. The trawler wasn’t large, but it had a cabin with bunks, a working shower and toilet, and a small stove. They could live there in relative comfort for as long as need demanded.

Then they set out to search for Rita, if indeed there was any remnant of her left inside that terrible creature.

The siren’s call guided them ever onwards, but she remained frustratingly elusive. Often, Derek was certain they were heading in the right direction, only to find empty water or an abandoned spit of rocks. Other days the sound was so faint they had no chance of pinpointing its location.

Two days passed without them hearing the call at all, and they were sure the trail was lost until Derek swore blind the large shape he had seen in the sky off in the distance was Rita. They picked up the call of the siren once more. The search continued.

On the sixth day, the call became weak and sporadic, not simply the sound itself, but the glamour it held over Derek and Hailey. By the seventh day, it was even fainter, and far less frequent. By the eighth, there was nothing but the sound of water lapping against the hull of the boat, and the occasional seabird overhead.

By some miracle they found her anyway.

They dragged Rita aboard and laid her on deck. Hailey reached out to let a hand hover over the corpse for a hesitant moment before resting it on a grey, mottled shoulder. “So cold,” she said in a faint voice.

Derek balanced on his haunches and afforded the siren a fisherman’s appraisal. “Don’t think she’s been dead for long,” he said. “No sign of scavengers gettin’ at her, anyroad.“

“What about all this?“ Hailey said, pointing to the myriad cuts and lesions that mapped the creature’s body. “And… Christ, one of her eyes has been gouged out.“

“I’m thinkin’ all that happened when she was still alive. Most of her injuries show signs of healin’.“

“Do you think Elsa did this?”

“Aye, could be. Had to ‘ave been one hell of a fight.“ Derek shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Rita. You didn’t deserve this.“

“What’re we going to do with her?“

“Find somewhere to bury her, I s’pose. I’m glad it was us what found her – elsewise, she’d prob’ly end up bein’ dissected in a lab somewhere.“

“I should call Sadie,” Hailey said.

Derek looked at his niece blankly. “Eh?“

“Elsa may still be alive. They might be in danger.“

“Oh. Hard to say. We can only hope she’s lyin’ at the bottom of the sea. Couldn’t happen to a nicer woman.“

To make sense of death was hard enough, but to process this… It was too much to bear. The strangeness of it. Hailey couldn’t decide if it was sorrow or horror she felt. “I wish I’d never come back to Morcant,” she murmured.

“Don’t say that, girl,” Derek told her. He choked out a single sob, then put a fist to his mouth to stifle any further anguish.

Hailey wrapped her arms around her uncle’s waist, and the two of them held each other close for a span.

“I should get us to land,” Derek mumbled when they’d parted. He gave Hailey a rough pat on the shoulder, then made for the wheelhouse.

Hailey wiped away the last residue of tears from her eyes, then sank to her knees next to the creature. “Were you still you when the end came?“ she asked of the pale thing. “Or did you die in that cocoon? It’s easier for me to believe you did, you know?“

Some vague sense of movement drew Hailey’s eye to the thing’s belly. Had its stomach always been that distended? True, the chaos inside the lighthouse had not exactly given Hailey an opportunity to scrutinise the creature’s anatomy in any great detail, and it was possible the thing had gorged since then.

“I hope that’s you in there, Elsa,” Hailey said, surprised by the level of vehemence in her voice. “You deserve it.“

But wait. Something was moving beneath that pale grey skin. A jerk. A spasm. Hailey stared in horrified fascination. Then a larger, more violent convulsion, like something… something trying to get out?

Hailey’s hands flew to her mouth in shock. “Uncle Derek! Something’s happening!“

Derek rushed over. “Eh?“

“I think she’s still alive! Look!“

Derek loomed over the siren. His eyes went wide, and then he was rushing to the wheelhouse.

“What’s happening?“ Hailey cried.

When Derek returned a few moments later, he held a large gutting knife in his hand, its blade keen and unyielding.

Hailey regarded it for an instant before sudden realisation kicked in. “Whoa, wait! Let’s think this through. We don’t know what’s happening here!“

Derek hunkered down and readied the sharp implement, his face set grim. “I’ve seen my fair share of dead things, Hailey. I know what dead looks like. She definitely ain’t alive, but somethin‘ is.“

“Oh, God…” Hailey groaned, turning away from the inevitable. “When will it end? She’s like a set of Russian dolls.“

Derek steeled himself, then cut into the meat of the thing’s belly, slicing carefully through each layer of flesh so as not to damage whatever was moving inside.

Hailey rocked back and forth on her haunches, the knuckles of one hand trapped between her teeth. It’s just a fish, that’s all. A fish swallowed whole. An eel, maybe.

But eels didn’t sound like human babies, did they? No. Only human babies sounded like human babies. Hailey turned to the unexpected noise, her hands flying to her mouth in utter shock and disbelief.

“Look,” Derek said, his face gone pale. “Look what I found.“

Hailey stared at the mucky newborn he held aloft, unable to fully make sense of what she was seeing. “It’s a baby,” she said dumbly. “It’s a baby girl.“

“Hold her for me,” Derek said with a quivering voice. “I need to cut the, er…”

“Umbilical.“

“Aye. Hold her.“

Hailey took the babe with shaking hands. She wiped mucus from its brow and face while Derek took hold of the cord tethering it to the dead siren. “Not sure where to cut,“ he said.

“It’s a baby…” Hailey kept murmuring.

“Need some help here, girl. Do you know the best place to cut the cord?“

Hailey peered up at her uncle with wide, blinking eyes. “Don’t think it matters. Uh… leave a couple of inches, then tie it off with some thread or something. It’ll bleed otherwise.“

“All right.“

Hailey turned her attention back to the tiny miracle in her arms, the babe’s wails now turned to soft mewls. There was already a sparse smattering of red hair on her head, and her eyes were a familiar green. Her tiny limbs paddled the air, and if that was notable, it was only because they were limbs – human limbs, not the reptilian tail of a siren or the flipper of a selkie.

“It’s Rita,” Hailey said in amazement. “Isn’t it? It looks like her, at least.“

“Aye,” Derek said as he worked at the umbilical. “She came back to us. Millie said summit strange, summit about Rita bein’ inside a belly. Didn’t pay it much heed at the time.“

“Look at you,” Hailey murmured, her pinky finger caught in the babe’s grip. It peered up at her with bright eyes, and Hailey could’ve sworn there was something resembling recognition in them. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

Hailey couldn’t have failed to recognise Rita in those features, not simply a passing resemblance, but a sense that this might actually be Rita, that somehow this strange alien life cycle had come full circle and delivered her aunt back to her.

But had Georgia been on that boat, she might have recognised something different – the button-shaped nose, the soft dimples at the corners of the mouth. For there was undeniably something of Millie in the infant’s appearance, too, though Hailey was understandably oblivious to the notion that the babe might be the progeny of a mythical sea creature and an eight-year-old girl. Right now, this was more than enough for the sane mind to process.

Derek cut a woolen thread from his jumper and used it to tie off the umbilical. They took the newborn down to the living quarters to get her cleaned up.

2

“Stay here,” Sadie told the others, her eyes never leaving the dark figure standing at the edge of the forest. She wrapped her sarong skirt around her waist, slipped her top on, then slowly walked out to meet the newcomer.

Elsa pulled back her hood to reveal the ruination of her face. Her once wild red hair had been cropped short against her scalp, and Sadie guessed she must have recently shaved it to better treat the wounds that mapped her face and skull. Where her right ear had been, there was naught but a raw, bloody hole, the tissue there angry and barely healed.

Sadie peered down to briefly see the fingers of a hand reduced to bandaged stumps before Elsa slipped it back inside her cloak.

“Hello, Sadie.“

Sadie said nothing for a long moment. Even greatly diminished, it would be a grave mistake to underestimate Elsa, but she couldn’t help feel some measure of pity for the woman. Perhaps that was a mistake too. Finally, she spoke. “Why have you come back?“

“It was my home, wasn’t it? For a brief time, at least. And yet, all I find is charred timbers and a new gravestone. I’ll assume you had something to do with that.“

“Simon was the author of his own demise. Some of the responsibility lies with you, though. People died in Morcant, Elsa. Buried in their own homes. Did you mean to raze an entire town to the ground?“

Elsa was smiling bitterly. “I thought destroying my past would cut that part of me away. Naïve, wasn’t it?“

“How can you not see how wrong all this is? Don’t you understand the pain you’ve caused?“

Elsa jabbed herself in the chest with her fingerless hand. “What about my pain?! I’m not the villain! I’m not! I just… I just wanted to build a better world for us.”

“Oh, not like this, Elsa! Not like this. This wasn’t the right way to do it.“

Elsa absentmindedly reached out to touch her right shoulder, as if she were expecting to find something there. When her hand found nothing but the dark fabric of her cloak, she winced, grief etched into her disfigured face.

The bird, Sadie thought. Elsa’s lost her familiar. She’d never seen someone so beaten, so racked by despair.

“Back at the lighthouse,” Elsa said, “you said you’d be a friend to me if I needed one.“ She met Sadie’s gaze, and for a brief moment Sadie thought she saw someone else staring back at her, someone frightened and alone. A little girl called Frances Mooney, perhaps. “Did you mean it?“

“You killed people, Elsa. You would’ve killed us if you’d had the chance. I’m scared of what you might do next. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can be your friend.“

Elsa gave a resigned nod. “Yes, you’re quite right. I’ve been a monster for so long I don’t think I’m able to be anything else now.“

Her eyes turned cold and flinty. Any vulnerability that might once have been there melted away. She was terrible to behold, her injuries lending her a new, monstrous form that was every bit equal to the dark soul beneath.

Sadie stood with her heart in her throat, ready to pull her ward up at a moment’s notice.

But Elsa’s attention had shifted beyond Sadie. Sadie turned to see Millie walking towards them, closely trailed by Georgia and Freya.

“Go back, Millie,” Sadie told her apprentice, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Millie, come here!“ Georgia hollered.

“The Dryad are here,” Millie said. “Can’t you see them?“

Sadie carefully surveyed the glade, peering through trees and foliage. Her eyes quickly adjusted to make better sense of her surroundings.

The Dryad were indeed amongst them, so close that Sadie wondered how she had not seen them in the first place. Now that she was aware of their presence, the thick magic of their being flooded her senses, almost overwhelming in its intensity.

Six of them there were, including Astris herself, and yet no two dryad were alike. One had the silver skin of a birch tree, her hair ashen. Another had the dark skin of mahogany. The remaining three were green like Astris, but wildly different shades, from sage to olive to shamrock.

Elsa had seen them too. Her eyes went wide, and she stumbled towards the nearest dryad, a slender nymph with bright eyes of jade. “Blessed Danu! Can it be true? Dryad? Dryad! Might you be Astris?“

“I am Astris,” Astris said. “But my name is not yours to utter.“

Elsa scurried over to Derwold’s protector. “Astris! My name is Elsa. I’m—

“I know who you are, child. And what you are.“

“I’ve searched so long for your kind! I have so many questions.“ Elsa turned this way and that, regarding the Dryad with childlike wonder. “I have questions for all of you.“

“You’ll get no answers from us, sister,” the silver dryad said. Her voice was like a harsh wind.

Elsa was now still amongst them, her smile turned to confusion. “Why?“

“You are dangerous,” the dark-skinned dryad said without malice. She reached out and placed a hand upon Elsa’s ruined one. “You have strayed.“

Elsa pulled her hand away. “No, no. I’m Old Blood. I’ve come to learn. That’s why you made us, wasn’t it? To lead? To shape the world?“

“I think it would be a very foolish thing to grant you more power than you already wield, witchling,” Astris said. “You have allowed your rage and your insecurities to govern you. You have marched into this forest like a spoilt, petulant child, thrashing and wailing. You have snuffed out life as if it were nothing. But you speak true of one thing – you are of the Tuatha. You are one of ours. And so we will teach you. But it is not power you will learn from us. We will teach you humility, compassion, sacrifice. And to learn those things, you must unlearn all the lessons you have taught yourself, this poison you have mistaken for wisdom.“ Astris stepped silently towards Elsa and regarded the woman solemnly. Elsa seemed to shrink under her scrutiny. “Will you learn the lessons we have to teach, child? Do you want to learn?“

“I don’t have time to learn those things! I’m trying to save the world here! I need to know how to breed without males. I have to set us on the right path before it’s too late. I only have a few decades left to lay a foundation others of our kind can follow. Sooner or later, men will destroy the world, you must see that!“

“Men will destroy themselves,” said another dryad. “The world will continue turning as it ever has.“

“They’ll destroy everything else along with them!“ screamed Elsa.

“Poor thing,” the silver dryad said. “Have you such little faith in nature? The change is already underway. It does not require your assistance.“

“What change? Cancer? Some new pandemic? Anything nature throws at us, we just bat right back. Have you been hiding away in your forests so long you don’t see what’s happening around you?“

“If you are not willing to learn from us, then you must leave this place,” Astris said. “Whatever it is you seek is not here. Will you let us heal some of your wounds before you go?“

Elsa screwed her face up, and for one moment Sadie thought she might throw herself to the ground and bawl like a child. “What a disappointment,” Elsa hissed. “You wait your whole life to meet your gods, only to discover they’re a bunch of fucking morons! And I’ll keep my scars, if it’s all the same to you. I earned them.”

“We were never gods, silly girl,” said the dark dryad.

Astris gestured towards the edge of the glade and the trees beyond. “Leave the Oak Wood now, sister. Do not think to stand against us – you are powerful, but even a child of the Tuatha cannot hope to prevail against this many Dryad. I hope you find peace.“

Elsa made some effort to compose herself. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving. There’s nothing left for me here.“ She strode past the Dryad, then stopped short where Millie stood. “Come find me when you’re old enough,” she said. “I’ll be waiting.“

Georgia put a protective arm around her daughter’s shoulder.

Millie shook her head morosely. “I don’t want to be like you.“

“I’ll be waiting,” Elsa said once more. She turned to Freya, and seemed ready to offer some words before thinking better of it. Finally, she disappeared through the trees.

Sadie let out a relieved breath. “She’s too dangerous to let live, Astris.“

Astris gave the young witch a surprised look. “Oh! Should we have killed her, Sadie Laine? The Dryad do not take life easily, but perhaps we should have restrained her for you so you could administer the killing blow. What is your preferred method of execution? A sharp blade across the throat? To hang her from a tree? Perhaps to hold her head beneath the water until she drowns?“

Sadie looked down at her feet, suddenly unable to meet the dryad’s penetrating gaze.

“No, indeed. Do not speak of killing unless your hands and heart are equal to your words.“

“Is this the other one, Astris?“ the silver dryad asked, leaning down to carefully inspect Millie.

“It is. This is Millie Newton.“

“She doesn’t kill people, though!“ Georgia said with a nervous laugh, her arms around Millie. “She’s normal. Mostly. Just in case you were thinking of doing something… dramatic. Hi, I’m Georgia! I keep bees.“

Georgia stuck her hand out, and the silver dryad recoiled from it. Astris laughed.

“It’s okay, Georgia,” Sadie said, looking embarrassed. “They’re not going to hurt her.“

Freya peered up at the dark skinned dryad with her mouth ajar. The nymph was tall, her limbs strong and wiry. “Uh… hi. I didn’t think there were this many dryads in Derwold.“

The dryad gave her a cursory glance, then chose to ignore her entirely.

“My sisters have travelled through the stones from their own forests,” said Astris. “I needed their aid in unraveling the wall around the Oak Wood, and if there had been violence, I could not have stood up to Elsa alone. We have not been together like this for almost two millennia. There are few of us left now.“

“Aww. It’s nice to catch up with family, isn’t it?“ Georgia said, resisting the urge to click her heels together and murmur, There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home!

While Georgia, Freya and Millie finally found a dryad who would deign to speak to them, Astris took Sadie to one side.

“Sadie Laine, there is something I wish to know.“

“I’ll answer if I can, Astris.“

“What is a ‘fucking moron’?“

3

When the Dryad had retreated back into the forest, and Sadie and the Newtons were gathering their things together to head home, Freya happened upon a crimson shape laid out on the surface of one of the larger rocks.

On closer inspection, she saw it was a rose. A blood rose from the grounds of Derwold Manor.

She reached out a hand to pick it up, then stopped herself.

“No,” she murmured. “I don’t think so.”

The stem was all thorns, and she would not allow it to draw any more blood than it already had.

She turned and ran to catch up with the others.

4

The remainder of the summer holidays passed without incident. Georgia, Sadie and the girls spent several days busying themselves harvesting and bottling the year’s first bounty of honey, and Georgia was grateful for the distraction. After everything that had happened, she needed her children close at hand, at least for the time being.

Sadie divided her remaining time in Derwold between preparations to depart the village and conversing with Astris at the waterfall glade.

The other Dryad had returned to their forests, but Astris explained that the long-severed bond with her sisters had been renewed after so many centuries. It was not the confederation it had once been, and most likely never would be, but it was something.

Sadie asked about the fate of the covens, but Astris told her the Dryad had not been involved with human affairs since the Roman legions invaded their forests two millennia before and drove the Tuatha into hiding. Nevertheless, after much consideration, she gave Sadie the locations of her sisters and suggested she seek them out in their forests for any information they might be able to share.

“What if they won’t speak to me?“ Sadie said.

“Do you still have my acorn?“ asked Astris.

Sadie told her she did. Astris had left them the large green seed several months before, a symbol of gratitude for freeing her from Isabel’s malevolence.

“Take it with you and show it to any of my sisters. Still they may not speak with you, but they will know you have my favour, at least.“

Then Sadie broached the subject of the Old Blood, girls born touched by the power of the Tuatha Dé Danann, like Millie and Elsa. How had they come to be?

“It was our great mistake,“ Astris said after such a long period of silence Sadie thought the dryad would not speak of it at all. “Many ages ago, when your ancestors were still hunter-gatherers, we selected the most gifted amongst your females and planted seeds within them. The children that grew from those seeds were powerful and long-lived, as much Dryad as Human. We nurtured them, primed them for leadership, for your people are headstrong and reckless, and we believed blending a part of ourselves into your gene pool would temper such shortcomings.

“Centuries and millennia passed, and on occasion our power would manifest in your newborn, and though it remained undiluted, with each new generation their physical selves lost more and more of their dryad characteristics until eventually they appeared fully human.

“Then the Legion came from across the sea. We had heard whispers of them, of their cruelty and brutality, how they would swarm like ants, slaughtering anything in their path. They cut down our oldest trees and killed our kind, not just Dryad, but others of the Tuatha too – Giantkin and Fae, Selkie and Merrow. Those that survived fled into the Highlands with the Pictish tribes, but others of our kind stayed and hid in what remained of our forests. Gwenaëlle was the last Old Blood we ever nurtured. Your chroniclers know her as Boudica.“

Sadie’s mouth dropped open. “Boudica?! The Boudica?“

Astris gave a single haughty nod. “She feigned an alliance with the Legion to protect her people. When her husband died, Gwenaëlle was flogged and her two daughters raped.“

“If I remember my history, the Romans took her husband’s lands for themselves,” said Sadie.

“It was her kingdom. Gwenaëlle was queen of the Iceni even then, despite what your chronicles say. Though the Legion must have thought her husband was her protector.“

Sadie pondered that. “They thought it would be easy pickings with her husband out of the way.“

“Just so. They thought it inconceivable that a woman could command a military force. But Gwenaëlle did just that. She gathered the tribes to her cause and set about waging war. Her Dryad mentor Andrasta beseeched her to take her people north instead, where the Legion would not venture. But Gwenaëlle was bent on vengeance. She marched across the land with her armies, slaughtering Legion and Briton alike.“

“It’s hard to blame her, after everything she suffered.“

“Perhaps so. But I saw her during those last days of the uprising. I looked into her eyes and saw what she had become. Vengeance can twist a person beyond all recognition, Sadie Laine. Your chronicles speak of the noble and fierce Queen Boudica of the Iceni, but there is little romance in seeing men boiled alive in their armour, or strung up while…” Astris looked off into the distance. Into the past, Sadie thought. “Such a terrible way to use nature.”

The dryad seemed to come back to herself. She ran her hands through her long, walnut hair. “And so, scattered and diminished, the Tuatha drifted away from Humanity. And from each other. Without our guidance, many of those touched by our power became dangerous and unpredictable. Like Elsa.“

“Could you not have sought them out? Found a way to guide them in secret?“

Astris dipped her hand into the cool, clear waters of the pool, swirling it to and fro. “Humans have a tendency to organise themselves into factions. You segregate yourselves by culture, race, geography, spiritual belief. What you must understand is that the Tuatha only ever saw you as a single people.

“When one army waged war on another, it was naught but humans killing humans to us. We tried to protect you from yourselves, but ultimately, we failed. Nothing will strip you of your primate tendencies. We were foolish to think otherwise. Yes, perhaps the few of us that remained could have intercepted those born touched, and set them back on the path, but who’s to say allowing them to realise the full extent of their power would not have made things worse? Imagine the damage someone like Elsa could have caused if she had been fully nurtured by the Dryad.

“The world has changed. Humans have multiplied exponentially, and few of my kind remain. There are too many unknown variables in taking humans under our wing once more. Too much latitude for catastrophe.“

“What about Millie? Do you think she’ll become another Elsa, then?“

“The child is strange. She is a thing that doesn’t fit. She is… elusive.“

“I don’t understand.“

“Nor I, not fully. But that day when Millie first touched the tree where I dwelled, I had a sense that it was not the first time we had met. Regardless, when her menstrual cycle begins, we will get some measure of her true potential.“

“I hate the thought of not being here for her.“

Astris cupped water in the palm of her green hand, then brought it to her lips. When she was done drinking, she met Sadie’s gaze. “Of that I would speak further. Listen well, witchling.“

5

Sadie and Georgia lay atop the quilt on Georgia’s bed, the breeze from an electric fan delightfully cool against their sweaty skin. Their breaths came in short, laboured bursts.

“You’re one hell of a fuck, Sadie Laine,” Georgia opined.

“Thanks for saying so,” Sadie replied. “You’re not so bad yourself.“

Georgia turned onto her side and regarded her friend and lover. “Why do I get the feeling I’m never going to see you again?“

Sadie cupped her friend’s cheek. “I’ll come back. I will. I’ll come back because I love you. I love the girls.“

“I wish… I wish we could just be a normal family,” Georgia said, and for a moment it was all she could do to keep from crying. “All this magic business. It’s like a thorn in our sides.“

“It’s a part of who I am, Georgia. It’s a part of who Millie is. Nothing can change that.“

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, until Georgia spoke again. “Do you ever think Elsa might have been right?”

Sadie looked surprised. “About what?”

“A world without men. Would it be a better place, do you think?”

“Not with women like Elsa in charge,” said Sadie, then after a moment of consideration added, “I’ve never really had any problems with men. Have you?”

Georgia thought about it. “You say that, but haven’t all women had to put up with crap from men at some point in their lives? Are you telling me you’ve never had unwanted advances from guys, never been leered at in the street, never been treated differently because you have a pair of tits?”

“Of course I have. But that’s hardly a reason to snap my fingers and erase the entire male population, is it? And they’re not all arseholes. What about Mr. Dalliard? And your husband? He was a good man, wasn’t he?”

“I’m just saying.” Georgia gave a half-amused huff. “When I worked in the city, I used to walk down to the coffee shop at the end of the street on my lunch breaks. I remember some builders were working up on scaffolding nearby. Every time I went by I got the usual crap – wolf whistling, crude remarks. In the end I started taking a detour to avoid them. Took me another ten minutes to get my coffee but at least I didn’t have to put up with all the abuse. But I remember feeling so fucking angry that I had to do that, that I had to give way to their bullshit.”

“It’s a woman’s lot in life, isn’t it?”

Georgia bristled. “But it shouldn’t have to be. And some idiot shouting, ‘Oi, show us yer tits, luv!’ is the least of it. What about women in Iran or Afghanistan? Forced to cover themselves from head to toe, never allowed to go to school or university, not even allowed to speak to each other in public. They’re treated like animals. It’s horrific.”

Sadie had no way to counter the truth of that argument. In every society, women and girls had been pushed down in some way. The specter of male dominance loomed over all of them, always had. But Elsa had tried to push back. It was surely the fantasy of a madwoman, but God knows she had tried. And the world had punished her for stepping out of line, as it did so many women, for having the audacity to want change.

Perhaps it was too much of a stretch to blame men for Elsa’s downfall. She’d brought this on herself, hadn’t she?

Isn’t that what they’ve always said about women? Sadie thought. That we bring it on ourselves? That we freely invite everything that comes our way? 

Elsa had been shaped by the world she lived in, same as all of them. A man’s world.

“I don’t know, Georgia. I don’t know if a world like that is even possible, but I do know one thing: if we want to build a better one, genocide isn’t a particularly sound foundation.”

Georgia heaved a great sigh. “I know. I just wonder what that world might look like, that’s all. We’re lucky, I suppose. Derwold’s a good place to live, a hidden place. We can be who we want to be here. Mostly.”

“Mmm. I’ll miss it.”

Georgia traced the curve of Sadie’s breast with a finger. “When do you leave?“

“In a few days. I have a couple of loose ends to tie up first. My replacement at the school will need bringing up to speed, for one.“

“Oh, you found someone?“

“Yeah. She’s never taught before, and she’s awfully young, but I have a good feeling about her.“

Georgia was smirking.

“What?“ said Sadie. “I know that glint in your eye.”

“You have a key for the school, yeah?“

“I do.“

“No one goes in there during the summer holidays, right?“

“No. I’m the only one with a key. What are you up to, Georgia Newton?“

Georgia’s smile widened. “How would you like to play teacher one last time?“

6

Derwold’s school was really nothing more than a large hut with a single classroom, a small staff office, and a cloakroom. It sat on the plot next to the church, the classroom facing out onto a small playing field and the woods beyond. This was good. Because what Georgia had planned for that early Sunday evening, when most of the village’s other residents were sitting down to enjoy a traditional roast dinner, was not something for the eyes of unbelievers.

Georgia told Sadie to meet her at the school at 4 o’clock. She also told her to dress in her work attire, emphasising the importance of stockings and lacy panties. Not so strange – Sadie had always enjoyed wearing naughty lingerie at school, a fact of which Georgia was well aware.

Sadie played along, of course. When she pulled up in the school’s small carpark at a quarter to four, Georgia was already there, leaning on her own car with her arms folded. Freya and Millie were kicking a football around. They were wearing their school uniforms.

“Hello,” Sadie said wryly when she’d got out of her car and met up with Georgia.

“Hello, Miss Laine,” Georgia replied huskily. The beekeeper looked like she was all dressed up for a night on the town. A tight-fitting cream dress clung to her body, and she’d put on her white strappy heels.

“So… what are we all doing here?“ Sadie asked.

“I thought we could all indulge in a little… roleplay.“

“Oh, I see. And what ‘roles’ might we all be playing?“

Georgia played coy, the tip of a finger poised at one corner of her mouth. “Well… you’ll be the teacher. Obviously. Freya and Millie are your students, of course.“

“Of course. And you are?“

“Oh. I’m… the school inspector! I’ll be making sure everything’s, er, ship-shape. And generally just… you know, inspectoring.“

“I don’t think ‘inspectoring’ is a word.“

“I’ll be the judge of that if you don’t mind, Miss Laine.“

“I don’t like school inspectors much. Nobody likes school inspectors much.“

“Yes, well, I’m a very nice school inspector. I’ll just be observing from the sidelines while you go about your business. You won’t even know I’m there.“

“Very well. But I must warn you— sorry, I didn’t catch your name.“

“Miss Newton.“

“I must warn you, Miss Newton, my teaching methods are somewhat… unorthodox.“

“Oh, I’ve heard the rumours, Miss Laine. I’m afraid we’ve all heard the rumours back at the school inspector’s, uh, guild. Department. Headquarters?“

Sadie fished a key from her pocket and held it up. “Perhaps we should go inside and make a start, then.“

Georgia nodded gravely. “I think that would be best, yes.“

7

Inside the classroom, Sadie switched the light on, then closed the blinds. Freya and Millie took their seats at the front of the class, wearing coy little smirks.

Georgia sat in a chair just off to one side. She folded one leg across the other and rested both hands in her lap.

Sadie took her place behind her desk. “Well, here we are,” she said, drumming her fingers upon the varnished wood surface. She afforded Freya and Millie a stern appraisal. “Extra lessons for two very naughty girls. Do you know why you’re here?“

Freya and Millie looked at each other. They shook their heads.

“You were caught in the cloakroom with your knickers round your knees, weren’t you? Well, weren’t you?“

“Er… I suppose so?” said Freya.

“Yes, actually,” said Millie with an enthusiastic nod. “We were fingering each other. Weren’t we, Freya?“

“Oh. Yeah.“

Sadie gestured to Georgia. “This is Miss Newton. She’s a school inspector. She’ll be—”

“Inspecting?“ Freya ventured.

“Exactly. Say hello to the nice lady.“

Millie waved at her mother. “Hello, Miss Newton. It’s lovely to meet you.“

“Hi!” Freya said in a silly voice, sweeping a hand in a slow, wide arc in front of her.

“Hello, children,” Georgia cooed. “My, what pretty girls.“

“Well, then,” said Sadie. “Seeing as you both seem to think it’s appropriate to diddle each other in the cloakroom, I think a little sex education lesson might be in order. Now, come up here and stand in front of my desk.“

Freya and Millie pushed back their chairs and got to their feet. As they approached Sadie’s desk, Freya lifted the back of her skirt and flashed Georgia her knickers. She offered her mother a sassy pout.

“What an ill-mannered child,” Georgia opined.

Sadie circumnavigated her desk, her heels click click clicking upon the polished herringbone floor. “Bend over my desk,” she told the girls, and they complied. She lifted their skirts, leaving the plaid fabric draped across their backs. She gave each of their bums a light swat.

“Ow!“ Freya groused halfheartedly.

Millie peered back at her teacher with a naughty grin. “I quite like that. Do it again.“

Sadie gave Millie another spank, only this time she pulled her knickers to one side and slapped a bare arse cheek.

“How am I doing so far, Miss Newton?“ Sadie asked.

Georgia had allowed a hand to wander up to a breast, kneading it through the material of her smart dress. “I certainly don’t remember this being a part of the curriculum. But carry on, Miss Laine.“

“I told you my methods were rather unusual,” Sadie said. She gave the girls one last swat, then snaked a hand down between Freya’s thighs, rubbing the girl through her panties. When it was Millie’s turn, Sadie pulled the eight-year-old’s knickers high around her waist, the brilliant white cotton moulded tightly around her plump mons. Sadie locked eyes with Georgia as she trailed a finger through the narrow crease before bringing the offending digit to her nose to smell unashamedly.

Georgia hiked her dress up round her waist and spread her knees apart. Her knickers were lacy and semi-transparent. She dragged two fingers back and forth through the lips of her pussy.

“You’ll make a mess of those nice panties,” Sadie warned.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Georgia replied huskily.

“Can we take our knickers off now?“ Millie asked, her fingers already poised at the waistband.

“You can take your skirts off,” Sadie told them. “I’ll deal with your panties myself.“

The girls unclasped their plaid skirts, then stepped out of them. Sadie dropped to her knees and peeled Freya’s knickers down until they hung round her legs. She prised open her bum cheeks, moving to the side so Georgia could see the bright pink interior of her daughter’s cunt. She planted a single kiss on Freya’s arse, then sidled across to where Millie waited.

While Sadie tugged Millie’s knickers down, Georgia unhooked the top few buttons of her dress and scooped out her pillowy breasts. She dipped several fingers beneath her panties and into her cunt, then smeared the wetness across her nipples. She loved the smell of her own arousal. She loved watching her best friend do wicked things to her children, too.

Sadie squatted at Millie’s rear and spread the child’s arse open, peering back at Georgia with husky conviction. She snaked her tongue through the raw crease of Millie’s pussy and arse, leaving them glistening with saliva. She afforded Freya the same treatment, flicking her tongue through the delicate folds, then probing the girl’s arsehole.

Georgia pressed fingers into her sex, stuffing the crotch of her knickers inside. “Oh, you’re a dirty lady, Miss Laine,” she hissed. “Such a filthy, filthy teacher. I can see why my superiors were so concerned now.“

Sadie flashed her eyes at her lover, teeth bared in a wicked grin while her tongue flickered back and forth. This was the fantasy. The one that’d left so many pairs of her lacy knickers soaked through at the end of each day. Two little girls bent over her desk, panties round their knees. But that was only part of the fantasy, wasn’t it? There was more to act out.

“You can take your knickers off now,” Sadie told the girls, and while they eagerly tugged down their undies, she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped free of it, then pushed her skirt to the floor. Her lingerie was white and sheer. “Now that you’ve taken your own panties off,” she told her students, “you can remove mine for me.“

Freya and Millie folded to their knees at either side of Sadie and peeled the gossamer panties down her smooth, toned legs. Sadie stepped out of them, then sat back on her desk. She brought her heels (slutty pumps, Georgia liked to call them) up onto the wooden surface, and spread her legs to their limit. If that wasn’t a lewd enough invitation, she prised herself open like a curtain, the rose-coloured flesh of her sex taut and glistening.

Millie looked back at her mother and smirked, while Freya regarded Sadie’s open sex with unconcealed lust.

“Both of you… get down here and eat my cunt,” Sadie growled.

By now, Georgia had removed her own panties and was scrubbing them back and forth through her moist folds.

Freya and Millie drew closer to get at the rare treat proffered so wantonly by their teacher. They lapped at the musky flesh, tongues working as one as they moved up and down, up and down.

Sadie scooped out her breasts and lubricated her rubbery nipples with saliva. “Fuck yeah,” she snarled, then peered over at her students’ mother frigging herself on the chair. “How’d you like that, Miss Newton?“ she recited in a sing-song voice. “This is how we do it out here in the sticks.“

“It’s a very unusual method of teaching, Miss Laine,” Georgia replied. “But I approve wholeheartedly. Carry on.“

“You hear that, children?“ Sadie said, stroking the girls’ hair. “Miss Newton thinks we’re doing splendid work at our little school. If you show her how well you can make your teacher come, I’m sure she’ll give us an excellent rating.“

Millie stuffed her tongue into Sadie’s cunt. Freya nursed on Sadie’s clit. Moments later, Sadie came hard, pressing herself into the girls’ faces.

“Oh, fuck,” Georgia muttered as the first of her orgasms hit. “That has to be better than an apple on your desk.“

Freya turned to her mother, a hand toying between her legs. Her lips and chin were coated with Sadie’s nectar.

Georgia held up her knickers, the fabric sodden and creamy. “Want these?“

Freya nodded, so Georgia found her feet and brought the messy gift to her eldest, pressing them to her face. Freya sank back onto the desktop and closed her eyes, strumming her slit while she breathed in her mother’s rich scent.

Sadie climbed from the desk, nudged Millie back onto it, then took one of the youngster’s legs between her thighs, rubbing herself on a long, white pelerine sock, leaving it smeared with her juices.

Gazing lovingly at her teacher, Millie eased a finger into her own bum and worked it back and forth.

Georgia leaned across and kissed Sadie on the mouth.

“I love you, Georgia Newton,” Sadie groaned as they parted. “Fuck, how I love you.“

“I know,” Georgia replied. “And I’m worth every ounce of it.“

There were more climaxes that day in the humble little hut that served as Derwold’s only school. When the four of them finally reinstated their clothing and crept out of the building, all they left behind was the sweet scent of their lovemaking.

8

Two days before the new school term was due to begin, Georgia, Sadie, Freya and Millie were gathered in a forest clearing not far from the waterfall glade. Georgia stood behind Millie, hands resting on her youngest daughter’s shoulders. Freya and Sadie stood off to one side in respectful reverence, hands laced in front of them.

Astris, the Green Lady of Derwold, stood a short distance away.

“Do you remember the words?“ Sadie asked Georgia in a low voice. Her face was serious, her jaw set firm.

Georgia nodded.

“Then speak them.“

All of this flew in the face of Georgia’s better judgement. Allowing Sadie to instruct Millie in the ways of witchcraft had been one thing, but this… this was something else entirely. This was a fucking escalation. But what choice did she have as a mother? Sadie was leaving, and her youngest daughter needed guidance, the kind a mere beekeeper simply wasn’t equipped to offer.

But by God, if it needed to be done, it would be done on her terms.

Georgia cleared her throat and spoke. “I bring my daughter before the Dryad. I offer a mother’s consent. I grant you permission to instruct her, to nurture her as you have nurtured others before her. If this is the will of the Tuatha Dé Danann, then let it be done.“

Then, to Sadie’s horror, Georgia added a few amendments of her own. “Except on Sundays, birthdays, Christmas, dental appointments, and days when we’ve made other arrangements. Also, make sure she’s home by a reasonable time, because she has to get up early for school. Oh, and I’d prefer you didn’t teach my daughter anything especially dangerous. If she comes home missing any fingers or toes, you and I will be having words. Okay?“

“Omigod…” hissed Sadie. She closed her eyes and shook her head in despair. One simply did not talk to an ancient forest spirit like that.

Astris padded forward like an animal stalking its prey, her face like thunder. She afforded Georgia a scathing look. “Your terms are outrageous, Georgia Newton,“ she growled before her face softened by small degrees, “but I will agree to them.“

Then the dryad peered down at Millie. “You are the first we have nurtured in two millennia, and I suspect you will be the last. I will not make it easy for you, Millie Newton. Will you listen well to my instruction? Will you work hard?“

Millie gave her most enthusiastic nod. “I was Sadie’s best student, actually. And I’m definitely the cleverest in class.“

Freya rolled her eyes. She was trying hard to stop doing it, really she was, but bloody hell, if that didn’t deserve an eye-roll, nothing did.

Astris folded her arms and considered the child carefully. “We shall see.“

9

There was an atmosphere of anticipation in the classroom that went beyond the usual excited chatter that accompanied the first day of any new term.

Millie pulled out various bits of paraphernalia from her school rucksack, placing each item neatly on her desk. Pencil case. Ruler. Notepad. Calculator.

Her phone was vibrating in her pocket. They were supposed to turn their devices off in class, but Millie had promised Freya she’d leave it on. She pulled it out under the desk and saw her sister had left a message.

They’d seen Freya onto the bus earlier that morning, on her way to her new school just across the border into Wales. There’d been some talk of her boarding there, but it was only an hour’s journey, and Freya said she’d prefer to remain home and commute for now.

Millie read the text.

Well? Who’s your new teacher?

She typed a reply.

Dunno yet. What’s your new school like?

Big! Kind of scary, I guess, but exciting, too.

Okay. Sadie’s coming into the classroom now. I better go. See you tonight. Love you.

Love you too. Good luck!

Sadie entered the classroom to a chorus of, “Hello, Miss Laine! We thought you’d gone, Miss Laine! Did you change your mind about leaving, Miss Laine?!“

Sadie raised a hand. “All right, all right, settle down. I’m just here to introduce your new teacher. Everyone take your seats, please.“

The children parked themselves in place behind their respective desks. Several of them craned their necks in vain attempts to see who was waiting outside in the dark corridor.

“Boys and girls,” Sadie said. “I hope you’ll all be on your very best behaviour for my successor. If you’re not…” At this, Sadie wagged a finger, “…rest assured, I’ll be back to give you all a very stern talking to. Make me proud. And always remember to present the best version of yourselves.“

Sadie gestured to the open door. “Please welcome Derwold’s new teacher – Miss Ellis!“

Hailey came through the door and presented herself to the class, leaving Millie absolutely flabbergasted. If that wasn’t shock enough, there was also the fact that Hailey had a baby strapped to her chest.

Where on earth did she get a baby from? Millie knew enough about human procreation to be absolutely certain infants didn’t reach full term and emerge into the world in a few short weeks. There had been no baby when Millie had last seen Hailey, not even any talk of one. Was she looking after it for a friend?

Everyone was making cooing noises at the babe. Millie caught Hailey’s eye and gave her a discreet little wave. Hailey mouthed hi from across the classroom, accompanied by a knowing smile that left the child light-headed.

Millie tapped out a covert text message to her sister under the table.

Omigod, you’ll never guess who my new teacher is!

10

Sadie Laine packed the last of her belongings into the boot of her car – the essentials, at least. Hailey would look after the rest. In particular, she’d been at great pains to stress the need for proper care of her beloved books.

“You’re welcome to read them, but don’t bend the covers back, it damages the spine,” she had told Hailey. “And never put mugs of hot liquid on them, that’s a big no-no. Oh, and dust them now and again. Books like to be dusted.“

There were several more things to consider:

“If the boiler starts clunking, you have to run the hot water tap for a few minutes. If you don’t, there’s a good chance the cottage will blow up. If you hear scratching noises in the eaves, it’s just birds nesting up there, maybe the odd rat or two. Cows sometimes find their way into the garden from the farm next door. Just shooing them away usually works. And don’t fall down the well!“

Now Georgia was peering into the boot of the car with the thorough scrutiny only a mother can command. “Have you got everything you need?”

“Yes, Georgia.”

“A warm jumper?”

“Yes, Georgia.”

“Enough pillows?”

“Yes, Georgia.”

“Plenty of knickers?”

“Yes, Georgia.”

The two of them regarded each other in silence for a few moments, then burst into laughter.

Sadie pulled her friend and lover into a warm embrace. “I love you, Georgia Newton.”

Georgia nodded solemnly. “Come back to us,” she whispered.

“Always.”

When they’d parted, Georgia gestured discreetly to Hailey, who was standing near the cottage bouncing baby Rita in her arms. “Can she be trusted?”

“Absolutely,” Sadie said.

“What’s going on with that baby, anyway? I’m sure she’s doubled in size since yesterday.”

“Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but yeah, she does seem to be quite the grower.”

“And they found her inside a dead mermaid, you say?” Georgia screwed her face up. “Are you sure this new teacher isn’t having you on? My nan used to tell me they found me in a cabbage patch when I was a baby.”

Sadie shook her head matter-of-factly. “No, no, she’s telling the truth. But it was a siren, not a mermaid. I’ve explained the difference between mermaids and sirens. Several times.”

“I don’t like it,” Georgia decided. “It’s weird.”

“Be nice. Hailey might need some help in the future.”

Freya and Millie were saying their goodbyes to Billy Buckham, who didn’t seem fussed one way or the other. Sadie wandered over and folded to her knees.

“You’re going to tell us to be good, aren’t you?” Freya said with a wry smile.

“Oh, aren’t you the smart arse,” Sadie retorted. “Actually, I have a task for you both.”

“A task?” Millie said.

Sadie glanced back at Hailey and the babe for a moment. When she turned back to Freya and Millie all her humour had gone. “Look out for Rita. I’m assigning you both as her guardians.”

Freya made a face. “Uh, we don’t really know much about babies.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Sadie. “I have a feeling she won’t be a baby for long. Just… just be there for her, okay? I can’t trust anyone else with this.”

Millie was regarding the infant with interest. She bunched a fist against her chest. “I will train the child,” she declared. “She will become a great warrior under my mastery!”

Sadie got to her feet. “Right. Good. Or maybe just read her bedtime stories. Whatever works for you.” She kissed the girls on their brows. “Anyway, we can all keep in touch on our phones. It’s not as if I’m going to the Antarctic.”

Sadie slammed the boot of her car shut, then peered back at the little roundhouse with a tear in her eye. She’d been happy here, but had come to realise that happiness wasn’t always enough. Sometimes there needed to be a measure of struggle in life, a little hardship to help us discover who we are and what we’re truly capable of.

Leaving was hard. But staying would only eat away at her.

Besides, there was work to be done. She needed to find out what happened to the covens, why they were so suddenly abandoned. And if there were others like her out there, those of her lineage, Sadie would seek them out.

But you already cast one of your own aside, didn’t you? a voice in her head reminded her. Elsa reached out to you and what did you tell her? “I can’t be your friend.“ Are you sure you made the right decision?

She’d vowed to take responsibility for Elsa, but what did that actually mean? To drive Elsa off? Maybe even to end her life?

No. It meant taking her under your wing, and you know it. That’s why you feel like such a coward, isn’t it? You offered her friendship, then took it back because the prospect of taking responsibility for someone like Elsa was too frightening, too complicated. You wanted a nice neat ending. One where the wicked witch gets her comeuppance and the good guys live happily ever after.

Well, nothing to be done about it now. Elsa was gone. But there might be other Elsas out there. Sadie wasn’t so naïve to believe all witches were pretty schoolteachers who brewed love potions. It was time to step up, to start thinking about what was needed, instead of wanted. There might very well be tough decisions to be made.

Hadn’t Elsa said something like that once?

But I’m not Elsa. I’ll never be Elsa. I’m Sadie Laine.

Sadie pulled the acorn from her coat pocket. Its weight was reassuring in the palm of her hand. She turned it this way and that, then slipped it back inside her coat.

She climbed into her car. Billy Buckham regarded her stoically from the passenger seat.

“Here we go then, grumpy boy. Onwards and upwards.“

Sadie Laine keyed the ignition and drove away from the village of Derwold.

11

Millie Newton stands alone in the forest.

Her eyes are shut tightly. She reaches out and allows the cool breeze to caress the palms of her hands. Shutting everything else out, she pinpoints her senses on the rustling leaves in the trees. But when she listens, she really listens.

Because the trees whisper memories. The trees remember. And Millie Newton understands the subtle language of trees, for she is of the Tuatha Dé Danann.

The currents of the world are shifting, the trees tell her. A monumental change is underway. More and more, women begin to turn away from men and look to each other for comfort and intimacy. Fewer children are born, and of those, nature begins to favour female offspring. Of those born male, an increasing number are sterile and will be unable to father children of their own. Nature is fighting back. The world is unravelling.

The trees whisper other secrets: The last of the Tuatha are out there somewhere, scattered and alone. They must be brought back together, for the knowledge they keep will be much needed in the years to come.

Millie opens her eyes and walks on. A dark shape emerges from the trees and takes its place by her side. She lets her hand wander across its black fur. They’ve been meeting in the forest for some time now. They have an understanding.

“Hello, Serene,” Millie says, because that is the panther’s name in the human tongue.

Together, the young witch and her familiar head towards the waterfall glade where the dryad awaits.

The End

The Story Thus Far

Chapter One: Mallory Kalvornek and her lover Julie Hanson have returned to Bronning, Minnesota, for the first time in years to catch up with friends and family. Meanwhile, their old friend (and occasional sex partner) paramedic Nettie Hastings fights to save a life, her lover Hannah drops by with an unexpected surprise, Terry Wilder grapples with writer’s block… and two little girls living in a trailer park named Heather and Gina are being carefully observed by a hidden stranger.

Chapter Two: Mallory and Julie get together at Nettie’s home with Nettie and her lover Hannah, Nettie’s friend Terry Wilder, Terry’s teen daughter Halee, and Mallory and Julie’s friend (and occasional sex partner) Cindy. Gossip is exchanged, memories shared, and an unexpected attraction between Mallory and Terry Wilder reveals itself. Meanwhile, the mother of the two trailer park girls Heather and Gina goes out for a night on the town, oblivious to the presence of the man spying on her home.

Chapter Three: At Nettie’s place, Nettie and Hannah leave the others to indulge in a bit of romantic pleasure, while Julie and her old friend Cindy get it on with Terry’s teen daughter Halee. As for Mallory, she has repaired to Terry’s place for one of her occasional bouts of heterosexual action. Appetites are indulged, confidences shared. Meanwhile, Heather and Gina are abducted from their trailer home by a mysterious and very scary man.

Chapter Four: At Nettie’s place, four women and Halee Wilder greet the morning after an evening of lesbian abandon. Later that day, Mallory rejoins Julie, Nettie, Cindy and Hannah for a day of fishing. Halee returns home and spends the day upgrading her internet in preparation for promised to be a fun night of video chat sex with her girlfriend Bethany. Meanwhile, Grace and Heather are in the custody of the mysterious man, who seems to takes delight in terrorizing them.

Chapter Five: After their day of fishing, Nettie, Julie, Cindy, Mallory & Hannah engage in a five-woman sexfest inside a tent… and with the use of Cindy’s phone, their old friend and occasional bedmate Emma attends the orgy virtually. In the midst of their abandon, Nettie has a weird, vague memory flashback that leaves her shaken, but she conceals it from the others. Back home, Halee and her new love interest Bethany (Hannah’s daughter) are having long-distance sex via their laptops. 

For a list of the characters from the story you are now reading, visit this page. 

For a list of the characters from the previous two stories that you will encounter here as well, visit this page.

And now, dear readers, we make our way into the next installment. Read on…

by Rachael Yukey

You’ll never know
My life means everything
Still I scream because
There’s nothing left to do until the end
The world goes on
With all that I’ve become
And still I scream inside
Though all the pain I’ve taken hasn’t changed

Halford, 2001

Hannah let out a deep sigh of relief as her eyes fell upon Nettie. Her tall, dark-haired lover was seated on the river bank, bare toes in the icy water, idly flipping rocks at the placid surface. Nettie turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps, squinting in the glare of the sun, which was still making its ascent through the haze of the dawning sky.

“There you are,” said Hannah. “Everyone was kind of wondering where you’d got off to.” Lowering herself to the ground, she slipped an arm around Nettie’s waist.

Nettie shrugged. “Thought I’d watch the sun rise from here.”

Hannah snorted, the corners of her mouth curling upwards. “The sun is behind you, dummy. And your toes are gonna freeze off if you leave ’em in there much longer.”

“It feels good.” Nettie turned to face her, the ghost of a smile on her lips. But there was no real humor in it, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

The smile faded from Hannah’s lips. “Antoinette—talk to me. I know there’s something bothering you. Will you let me help?”

Nettie turned her gaze back towards the river, spinning another rock out across the sun-dappled surface. It struck about halfway across, disappearing with a slash of water and a dull plopping sound.

“I can’t make ‘em skip anymore,” Nettie lamented. “When I was eight or so, I used to come out here all the time with—you know, a friend. We’d skip rocks for hours. Can’t do it now.”

“Antoinette.”

Nettie sighed heavily. “I’m okay, Hannah. I… I just didn’t sleep that well last night. It happens sometimes. I—” And then she was weeping, sobs wracking her body with explosive force.

“Whoa—hey.” Caught completely off-guard, Hannah moved her arm from Nettie’s waist to her shoulders, pulling her in tight. Nettie buried her face in Hannah’s flaming red hair. “Hey—I’m here.”

“Yo, Hannah, where’d you go?” Cindy’s voice. “Don’t wander too far, these woods go deep! I’m sure Nettie’s right along the river somewhere.”

“I’m good!” Hannah quickly called back. “I’m with Antoinette now. We’ll be along in a few.”

Cindy seemed to catch the hint. “Um, okay, then.”

“Shhh,” Hannah whispered, stroking Nettie’s hair. “It’s okay, just let it out. I’m here.”

Nettie’s head lifted, a hand impatiently dashing tears from her face. Her cheeks were still wet. “Hannah, I’m sorry.” Her voice was just barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“You didn’t sign up for this. I’m damaged goods, Hannah, and I didn’t tell you that. This isn’t— it’s not fair to you.” She doubled over in a fresh fury of weeping.

“You can just take that idiotic notion and bury it at sea,” Hannah said firmly, squeezing Nettie’s heaving shoulders. “You think I didn’t know you’ve got skeletons? You think I’m any different? I was suicidal when I was pregnant with Bethany.”

Nettie’s head lifted, her tear-streaked face turned towards Hannah’s drawn, serious one. “Wait— what?”

Hannah shifted her gaze to the treeline on the opposite side of the river, bright with the fresh green of spring. “I was a fifteen-year-old, pregnant, in-denial lesbian. My dad was furious that I was knocked up, and threatening to kick me out of the house. My mom hated it, but wouldn’t intervene. Even worse, I’d just ended up getting myself off front of my younger cousin, then helping her do the same. I was a hundred percent sure I was going to hell for that.”

She released a shuddering breath, close to tears herself. “Add that to some fucked-up pregnancy hormones, and I used to lie awake at night, crying, going over a hundred different ways to just end it all. I couldn’t turn it off. The only thing that stopped me from doing it was a sense of responsibility to that little life growing inside of me.”

Nettie was still sniffling, but the worst of the crying fit appeared to have run its course. She was looking at Hannah as if seeing her for the first time. “Hannah—I’m sorry. That’s the worst thing ever.”

A single, humorless laugh escaped Hannah’s throat. “No. No it isn’t. Whatever happened to you—that’s worse. Somehow I know that, even if you won’t tell me what it is.” Nettie gazed back into the murky depths of the river, saying nothing.

“Whatever,” Hannah said after a moment’s silence. “If you don’t want to talk right now, that’s okay. I’m going to have to find out eventually—I think you know that. But Antoinette: don’t ever think you know what is or isn’t fair to me. Because we’re all fucked up. Life is short, pain is everywhere, and if we’re not here to hold onto each other and help each other through it, I don’t even want to know what it’s all for. You hear me?” There was deep sorrow in her voice, though her eyes remained dry.

“Come on, now. I want you in the car with the heat blowing. All it takes is a glance to know you didn’t sleep a wink last night, and I don’t even want to know how long you’ve been sitting out here. I’ll tell the girls you’re not feeling good—that’s true, in its way. I’ll help them pack up.”

Lurching to her feet, she tugged on Nettie’s hands. Nettie rose, swaying like a zombie, and allowed Hannah to lead her back towards the camp.

***

The monster hovers over the two girls, gazing down at them with the barest hint of a grin. He’s been standing there like that, motionless, for almost two full minutes. Gina is sobbing uncontrollably. Tears track Heather’s cheeks, tears she can’t restrain, but she refuses to squirm, flinch, or make a sound. This evil bastard wants them afraid. She is afraid, mortally so, but does everything in her power to avoid letting him see it.

***

Diary of Malory Kalvornek, June 6th, 2022

Of course, I slept way later than everyone else—it’s what I do. I’m alone in the tent. I can hear voices and movement from outside, but can’t make out what anyone is saying. I should probably drag my ass out of the sleeping bag and go help tear down the camp, but I’m enjoying these few moments of peace and solitude.

The past two days have been a whirlwind. The drive to Bronning, the party, the party AFTER the party, the fishing/camping expedition—and oh my God, the sex.

Julie and I don’t step out sexually as much as we used to. It’s been over a year since we’ve participated in group activities of any description, and better than two years since I’ve had sex with a man. And now both of those things have happened, in the space of only two nights! I kind of missed it, letting my freak flag fly like that.

I’m pumped and eager to take on the rest of the summer! Even though our sojourn to Bronning was unplanned and not what we really wanted to do for the first few days of our vacation, it turned out to be exactly what Julie and I needed. Sequestered in the ivory tower of university life, you don’t realize how much you miss the simple things. Camping with the girls, fresh fish over an open fire. Vodka and Sprite!

On the flip side of the coin: I’m worried about Nettie. My post-coital conversation with Terry Wilder made it clear that she still isn’t over the traumatic events of her childhood, and then last night—she was out of sorts in some weird way, after Emma signed off and we were getting settled in. I’m not the only one who noticed; I overheard Hannah ask if she was okay. Nettie said she was, but I’m not sold.

I’d love to spend another day and night on the river, but it’s not going to happen that way. Cindy goes on two weeks of night shift starting this evening, and Hannah has to be at the hospital for surgery this afternoon. We’re gonna go back to Nettie’s place, get cleaned up, and then decide if we’re sticking around Bronning for one more night or heading out.

Speaking of which: it’s time to get my lazy ass moving. It won’t be long until the girls want to start tearing down the tent, and I know from experience that Julie and Cindy are not above doing so with me still inside if they get fed up waiting for the little blonde butterfly to emerge from her cocoon.

***

“Hey, sweetie, we’re heading out.” It was just after noon. Julie stood in the doorway to Nettie’s bedroom, her tall frame silhouetted by the hallway light, arm outstretched with a hand on the doorframe. Hannah had left for the hospital half an hour earlier.

Nettie forced a smile. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “I had a great time.” That much was true, at least until the previous night’s sudden rush of long-suppressed memory overloaded every synapse in her brain.

“Sorry you got sick,” Julie ventured, her voice tentative. There were all manner of things unsaid in that voice.

“It happens,” said Nettie. She really was sick, too. Several nights of poor sleep combined with the previous evening’s alcohol had caught up with her. She’d already hurled once, and her stomach was still doing lazy barrel rolls.

“I cleaned the rest of the fish,” Julie went on, “and Mal bagged ‘em up and put ‘em in your freezer. I’ll catch more later this week with Dad, so enjoy.”

Mallory came up behind Julie, ducking nimbly under her arm to enter the room. “Nettie,” she said. “Listen. I know we haven’t been in touch all that often over the past few years. But we’re still here for you if you need us—you know that, right? Nothing’s changed.”

A smile came to Nettie’s lips; a real one this time. “Thanks. But I’m okay; I just need to get some rest.”

Slipping past Mallory, Julie came to the side of the bed, leaning down to kiss Nettie’s forehead. “Be well, hon. We’ll be seeing you.”

Mallory came forward, sat on the edge of the bed, and looped her arms gently over Nettie’s shoulders. “We love you. Don’t forget that.”

Exiting the room just behind Julie, Mallory paused, then turned. “Nettie, I’m just going to say it. You should open up to Hannah. She really cares about you, I can tell.” She gave a hesitant smile, then closed the door behind her.

Nettie allowed her head to collapse onto the pillow, wincing at the bolt of pain that lanced from one end of her cranium to the other. “Fuck,” she grunted. She was grateful to finally be alone, and unsure what she wanted to do more: sift through the welter of recovered memories, or shove them so far back into her subconscious they never resurfaced again.

Then her phone chimed. Managing to be both annoyed at the intrusion and grateful for the distraction, she plucked it from the nightstand. The text message was from DEA agent Bridgett Ramscone. Call me when you have a moment, please.

This was how her loose association with the DEA had gone thus far. Bridgett contacted her when she ran into something her regular agents couldn’t figure out, then Nettie pored over the evidence. She’d discovered a heretofore untapped detective’s instinct; an ability to separate the wheat from the chaff, and once in a while strike gold.

Bridgett had offered her a more active, full-time role, but Nettie had refused. EMS was less a job than a mission to her, and much as she hated some aspects of the work, she was nowhere near ready to walk away from it.

Nettie almost let it go; she was tired, sick to her stomach, and her head hurt. Then it dawned on her that Bridgett usually used email rather than text to discuss assignments. Intrigued, she hit the call button, putting the phone on speaker and setting it back on the bedside table. Right then, the effort of holding it to her ear seemed more than she could handle.

“Hello, Nettie.” Bridgett’s voice was brisk and businesslike. When they had personal matters to discuss, she used terms of endearment and a casual tone. “Got time today to look something over for me?”

Nettie sighed. “Time I’ve got, but it’s not a great day for it, Bridgett. I’ve got a touch of some bug or other.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” said Bridgett, her tone softening a little. “That sucks. But, well—this one is kind of hot. Time-sensitive. We’re participating with the FBI on this because there’s a drug angle that goes with it, but I’m not in charge, and I had to go through eight different kinds of hell to get clearance to show it to you.”

Nettie let out a heavy sigh. “Okay—fine. But I’ll tell you straight-out I’m not on top of my game at the moment. What’ve you got?”

There was a long silence on the other end, a hesitation that wasn’t like Bridgett Ramscone at all. Nettie was just about to ask if everything was all right when the DEA agent finally spoke again. “Before I send you the files,” said Bridgett, “there’s a reason I wanted to talk to you on the phone first. This one might be—well—a little triggering.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning—Nettie, I delved all the way into your background as soon as I learned you had an association with Terry Wilder, before that first interview we had. Which means that among other things, I’m aware of a pretty horrible incident that took place when you were ten years old. This case—it looks very much like that one. Almost frighteningly so. Which is why I bent over so far backwards to get you access to the evidence. But if you can’t do it, if you want to skip over this one, I completely understand.”

Nettie was aware of her hands balling into tight fists, nails digging into her palms. This was a place she simply. Did not. Go. The only times she ever talked about her dead sister Annamarie was with her mother, and they never, ever discussed the incident that had taken her life. She wasn’t trying to bury Anna’s memory, but she couldn’t bear to face the curiosity of others. It always brought back horrible flashes of incomplete memories, and unleashed terrifying nightmares.

She finally found her voice, but couldn’t quite keep it steady. “And what makes you think I’d have some special insight?”

“Because the case we’re on now looks a lot like that one—enough so that I have to wonder if they’re somehow related. I mean, it obviously wasn’t carried out by the original perp; Jacob Brentshaw was murdered in prison a little over a year ago. But we have the same situation: two little girls and their babysitter gone missing while their parents are out. The babysitter is then found dead. House left tidy and untouched, nothing stolen or damaged. Rural environment, ample surrounding woodlands.

“That was Brentshaw’s MO, after all. Always two girls close in age, always alone with a babysitter who was murdered out of hand, always a rural setting. The murder was even conducted the same way Brentshaw always killed the sitter; a knife through the pericardium from behind.”

Nettie’s heart thumped in her ears. Beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead.

“Bridgett, I—how could you even ask me?”

“I wouldn’t have, except that the girls went missing only about thirty hours ago. You and Annamarie were missing for over a week, and still alive when you were located. The only break in the MO is that the perp did a sloppy job of hiding the sitter’s body; they found her right away. Listen to me, Nettie: those girls might very well still be alive, so if we can figure out where this asshole has gone to ground, we might be able to save them both. I wouldn’t have even thought about laying this on you otherwise.”

“Jesus.” Nettie let out a shaky breath.

“Nettie, I’m sorry, but I have to ask. You were borderline catatonic when you were found, and drowning in pneumonia to boot. You ended up in the hospital with a tube down your throat, and afterwards nobody was able to get anything resembling a proper statement out of you. Understandable enough, given your age and what you went through. But what I need to know now is how much you remember.”

Nettie rested her fingertips on her aching forehead. “If we know it isn’t the same guy, how will my fucking memories matter? Even if it’s a copycat crime, the perp will only know what was released in the press, and can only copy that much of it. Right?”

“Well—” Bridgett hesitated. “Not necessarily. One idea that’s been proposed is that it’s someone who knew Brentshaw. The other—” Nettie could hear her blowing her breath out, then taking another. “What I’m really wondering is if there may have been another party involved in the previous crimes. I’m hesitant to even tell you this, but one of the last things your sister said was ‘those bad people’. People, plural. But she was delirious, and no other evidence of a second person was ever found. Brentshaw denied it when asked. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t the case.”

Nettie’s whole body was shaking. Part of her wanted to cry, needed the release, but the tears refused to come. Just this horrible tightening of her stomach and chest, and tremors that gripped her from head to toe. “I—” It was all she could manage to get out.

“Please, Nettie,” said Bridgett. “I know this is the worst thing I could possibly do to you, and I’ll understand if we never hear from you again. But if these cases are by some slim chance connected, and you can dredge up any memories that might help us find that connection, it’s not impossible that we can save two lives. Young lives, girls who deserve what was stolen from Annamarie—and from you, for that matter. Anything you remember might help.”

“Gimme a second.” Nettie pressed both palms against her eyes as she searched her mind, trying to conjure up memories she’d spent a lifetime doing her damnedest to suppress. It seemed, now that she actively thought about it, that the wellspring of unlocked remembrances that flooded her mind the previous evening only included her time in Dickson, not the horror show that had preceded it. All that remained were the terrifying flashes of imagery that still plagued her nightmares.

“I—I honestly don’t remember much,” she said, her voice little more than a harsh whisper. “Just, you know, fragments of things. I can’t even really put a face on that fucker anymore, you know? I remember the son of a bitch in our house, knocking Anna down and threatening to beat her with something if I didn’t cooperate. Then I remember us in a different place, a kind of rundown one.”

“The abandoned mobile home you were found in,” said Bridgett.

“Right, okay. I remember a lot of screaming—Anna, I think. Blood. I remember being hit, and someone’s face right in mine, telling me to shut the fuck up. More than once, I’m pretty sure. And then—” she hesitated, desperately racking her brain for details. She couldn’t shake the thought of those two little girls out there, held captive by some creepy sadist. For the first time in her life, she wanted those repressed memories.

She pressed both fists to her forehead. “Fuck—I’m just getting different versions of those same things, like they happened more than once in different ways. Nothing’s very clear, Bridgett. I do have a vague image of the SWAT team busting in, and I remember Anna getting loaded onto the ambulance. That’s the one thing—” she hesitated, sniffling. Now the tears were close, and she didn’t want to start bawling her head off while still on the phone with Bridgett.

“Fuck,” she said again, getting some semblance of a grip on herself. “That’s the one part of it that’s always been crystal clear. But that doesn’t matter, does it? It was over by then.”

“No, that part’s well-documented,” Bridgett replied, her tone gentle. Nettie clenched her jaw, hating the pity she could hear in that voice. “I do have an immediate question. When he was in your house, knocking Anna down and threatening her to make you cooperate, where was your babysitter? Had he already been killed? Do you remember any of that?”

Nettie searched her mind, but that part remained stubbornly blank. “No. I see where you’re going with that—you’re wondering if, maybe, a second person took care of the sitter?”

“Exactly.”

“I—I’m sorry, Bridgett. I can’t remember.” Then a thought struck her. “You said there’s a drug angle here. What’s that about?”

“Oh—the sitter had cannabis and psychedelics in her system, is all. Most likely completely unrelated to the kidnapping and murder, but it’s the only reason I’m even aware of the case. We’re supposed to be just looking into that aspect, but when I saw what we were dealing with—”

Bridgett trailed off, then took another deep breath. “Nettie, will you look at the case files if I send them to you? Also—and I’m even more hesitant to ask this—the files surrounding your own kidnapping, and Anna’s death. I’ll redact the pictures of her body, because you really don’t need to see those, but the rest of it might spark some memories that could help. I’d like to send you that, along with the files for Brentshaw’s other crimes. It’s a horrible thing to ask of you for a pretty slim chance at a result, I know that, but it’s the only thing I can think to do.”

Nettie trailed her fingernails down her cheeks. Her shivering had ceased, and the horrible, unhinged feeling of being cut adrift was fading. Deep within, like a lump in her gut, was the steely surge of something darker. It was hard, cold anger, and she welcomed it.

“Send it,” she said, her voice still husky, but now with an undertone of iron. “All of it. Including Anna’s postmortems.”

“Nettie—those pictures are not pleasant. Are you sure?”

“If I see her injuries, maybe I’ll be reminded of how she got them.”

“Okay.” Was there a tremor in Bridgett’s voice? Nettie had never known the DEA agent to be anything other than calm, competent, and utterly poised when on duty. “I’m so sorry, Nettie. But we have to take our best shot at saving those two missing girls. Thank you.”

“Just send them along, okay? I’ll go over all of it, and get back to you with what I think, whether I remember anything or not.” Reaching over to where the phone lay, Nettie swiped the red button to break the connection, then batted the device with the edge of her hand, sending it sailing off the nightstand to land facedown on the carpet.

Then the tears came, hot, violent and full of vitriol. Not tears of sorrow, but of rage. Rage for what had been taken from her, from her precious sister, and from all the other girls whose lives that fucking monster had taken over the years. Rage for the two who were now missing, and the teen babysitter whose body was most likely being wept over by devastated parents at this very moment.

Then she got hold of herself. Those two little girls are out there this very minute, suffering who knows what. You don’t get to have a crisis right now, bitch. Ignoring the throbbing in her temples, she got to unsteady feet, snatched up her glasses, and made her way into the living room. Sinking into her dad’s old recliner, she took her laptop from the end table, rested it on her thighs and opened the lid. She fired up the browser.

There was an email from Bridgett, sent less than thirty seconds ago. She pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose, nudging the glasses up her forehead as she steeled herself for the worst. Taking a deep breath, she clicked on the link.

***

Callused, thick-veined hands rest on Heather’s shoulders, those dead blue eyes boring into hers. Heather is trembling violently, but wills herself to display no other overt signs of fear. Even the tears have ceased to fall. The touch is light at first, but then the fingers begin to squeeze. Her eyes begin to tear from pain as the pressure increases. She bites her tongue to keep from crying out.

Then a cellphone chimes. The horrid pressure continues for another moment, then the beast lets go and backs away, his eyes never wavering from hers. Resisting the urge to sag against the wall, Heather stares right back at him. Finally he tips her a wink, plucks his cellphone from his pocket, and turns away. After the shed door has closed and the padlock clicks into place, Heather curls up in a ball on the cold, dirty floor and sobs.

***

“You might as well stop reading, love,” said Mallory. “I can’t focus right now.”

Plucking a bookmark from the dash, Julie tucked it into the paperback and laid it on the console between them. She rested a hand on her partner’s thigh, watching the pine forest flash by on either side as they cruised down the freshly-paved but remote stretch of county highway.

Then she shifted her gaze to Mallory. “You okay?”

Mallory pursed her lips. “Yeah.” Signaling left, she tapped the brakes, decelerating into the curve immediately preceding her next turn. As she swung the Buick Encore onto the wider, well-shouldered asphalt of State Highway 210, she spared a glance at Julie, flashing her a wan smile. “I’m kinda worried about Nettie, is all.”

“You and me both. But I think you more than me. Is there something I don’t know yet?”

“It’s not anything I know, exactly. But I had a drink and a chat with Terry Wilder right after, you know—”

“Right after you had your brains fucked out? How was that, by the way?”

Mallory grinned. “Let’s just say that that man has the right tool for the job, and he knows exactly how to use it. Was Halee fun?”

“You missed out, sweetie. She was a treat. But you were saying? After the invasion of the almighty weiner?”

Mallory’s grin faded. “We talked a little about what happened to Nettie when she was ten. Terry knows about it, but not from her. They’ve been friends for three years, but she’s never once brought it up.”

The back end of a rusty seed drill loomed ahead on the road, towed at a sedate pace by an antiquated Allis-Chalmers. Letting off the gas, Mallory let the car drift a little to the left, craning her neck to see around the slow-moving machinery. Then she gunned the engine, pulling out into the other lane and accelerating smoothly.

Julie waved at the farmer on the open-platform tractor as they flashed by, getting a wave in return. Then she turned her attention back to Mallory. “You said ‘friends’. Woman’s intuition tells me there’s more to it than that.”

Mallory chuckled. “Yeah, I asked him about that. Terry said they’ve been more than friends off and on, but that it’s permanently behind them now. He described her as a difficult person to maintain a relationship with, and I kind of believe that. He also seems worried that she’s going to mess up the thing with Hannah.”

Julie nodded slowly. “I don’t think Hannah knows about Annamarie.”

“I don’t either. Like I said, Nettie’s never once told Terry about it, and she’s known him for quite a while now. He learned about it from other sources.”

Julie snorted. “How could he not? Bronning is pretty much exactly like Dickson.”

“Yeah. But did you see Nettie this morning? I don’t think she’s really sick. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all, and I’m pretty sure she’d been crying.”

“I noticed that, too. Are you thinking maybe hanging out with us and Cindy, then throwing Emma into the mix—I don’t know—”

“Triggered something? That’s exactly what I think. She was fine all day, but she got kinda weird when we were bedding down for the night. Hannah saw it too; I overheard her asking if everything was okay. And of course, Nettie brushed it off. But yeah—she hasn’t been with all of us together since she went home to Bronning all those years ago. I think it sparked something, and she’s having a hard time dealing with it.” She gave a wistful sigh. “I guess what I’m struggling with is the thought that we should have tried to do more after she left, and maybe should try to do more now.”

Julie made a face. “I’ve had that thought myself—hell, we’ve discussed it, you and me. But I also know there’s only so much we could do, then or now. We’re not here, y’know?”

That sad little smile had returned to Mallory’s face. “I do know. Terry told me the same thing, when I said some of this to him the other night. But I still feel bad. We’ve been so blessed, Julie. It kills me that Nettie is still dealing with this after all these years.”

Julie gave Mallory’s shoulder a squeeze. “I know. I feel the same. But I get the idea Terry said something that has you more worried than usual.”

“He says Nettie still has nightmares, really bad ones. That when she’s having them, she drinks a lot more. And that’s when she starts pushing people away. I get the idea it’s what nuked their relationship.”

Mallory heaved a shuddering sigh. “I know what you’re going to say—the hour is late, and our tools are limited. And I know you’re right. There’s not much we can do for Nettie right now. But I think we should make it a point to see her a couple more times before the summer is over. What do you say?”

“Sounds like a great idea. Speaking of which—did you get in touch with your mom?”

Mallory rolled her eyes. “She finally texted me back, just before we got rolling. Think we can make lunch in Alexandria tomorrow? She said she’d treat us at Longtrees, but if you’d rather hang out with your folks, I get it. It’s not like she gave us a lot of notice.”

“Actually—” Julie hesitated a moment. “I think you should go alone.”

“Not sure I want to.”

“You’ll never find out what’s up if you don’t talk to her. And she’s less likely to open up with an extra there. Whatever happened between you two, it might be your best chance to find out what it is and fix it.”

Mallory snorted. “Because I’m sure gonna do that in a restaurant, at lunch hour.”

“Get a corner booth. Maybe you can even make arrangements to hang out somewhere more private. She’s your mother; she can’t avoid you forever unless you let her.”

“I know it, I just—I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Fine. I’m kind of pissed. Whatever this is, she’s just turned all bitchy instead of talking to me about it.”

“Hmmm—maybe I should go along. I’m kind of pissed on your behalf. Maybe I’ll throw a little bit of my own bitchiness at her.”

That elicited a smile. Chuckling, Mallory shook her head. “Fine, damn you. I’ll go by myself. Last thing I need is you throwing the Patented Julie Hansen Bitchslap down on Mom.”

Now there was laughter in the car, draining away most of the tension. Julie was slow to anger, but when her temper finally blew, the results could be epic indeed. Her full-fury childhood assault on Floyd Peterson had been something of a local legend.

“You better now?” she inquired.

“Yeah, I think so,” Mallory replied. “You can read to me some more. Just be a dear and back up a paragraph.”

On to Chapter Seven!

For a list of the many characters who populate this saga, check out Dramatis Personae.

Thus far in our story…

Prologue: Hailey Ellis has returned to Morcant-On-Sea after several years away, only to find the coastal town is a shadow of its former self. Amidst this decline, Hailey navigates her various relationships, but a shocking encounter with her selkie aunt foreshadows a chain of events that will change all their lives forever.

Ch1: Several months later in the village of Derwold, the summer holidays begin for the Newton girls. Eleven-year-old Freya struggles to cope with the changes that adolescence brings, and wonders why she feels so angry and alone. To add to her unhappiness, she experiences her first period. 

Ch2: The next day, Freya has a chance meeting with Elsa Hart, wife of the new lord of Derwold Manor. A little later, Freya joins Sadie and her sister Millie for a lesson in alchemy, but things don’t quite go as planned when Millie inadvertently amplifies the potency of the love potion they’ve brewed. After the effects have worn off, Millie visits the churchyard to pay her respects to an old friend. Whilst there, she has an encounter with a black panther, and discovers she can communicate with the creature.

Ch3: Several days later, Simon and Elsa host a housewarming party in the grounds of the old manor. Elsa treats Freya to a tour of the recent restoration efforts, and the seeds are sown for a burgeoning friendship. Meanwhile, post mistress Sally Jeffries has a few too many drinks and ends up accidentally setting fire to pompous druid Bernard, then has a few choice words for Simon Derwold, who she remembers from decades before. Georgia, Sadie and Millie make their way home, where they indulge in a night of passion in the lounge, only to be interrupted by Elsa and Freya. Elsa comes to suspect her new neighbours are not all that they seem.

Ch4: The vicar of Derwold has been murdered by an unknown assailant. Unaware of the events that are about to unfold, Sadie tries to fathom the mysteries of the ancient standing stone near her cottage with the help of Freya and Millie. Later, Freya pays a visit to Derwold Manor, and she and Elsa enjoy an afternoon of passion. It turns out Elsa is using Freya for her own ends, and the eleven-year-old is tricked into revealing all their secrets.

Ch5: Sadie receives a concerning call from Vivaan Dinesh, Derwold’s resident doctor. At the surgery, she is confronted with the murdered vicar. Meanwhile, Millie rescues Bernard from the mysterious black panther, and the traumatised man confesses he’s not a real druid at all. 

Sadie sets out to investigate the vicar’s murder, and discovers that someone has set an arcane wall around the village, preventing anyone from entering or leaving. In the woods that surround Derwold, she meets Astris the dryad.

Ch6: Astris tells Sadie that Elsa is the one who has sealed off the village, though for what purpose she doesn’t know. The dryad also hints that Elsa is a witch, and that she harbours great power. Sadie researches the Derwold family and discovers they have a troubled history. She also discovers Elsa changed her name to conceal her past, and is inexplicably older than she seems. 

At the post office, Sally Jeffries tells Sadie a disturbing childhood story, in which an eight-year-old Simon tortured and killed his pet dog. Suspecting the vicar’s murder may have been Simon’s doing, Sadie hastens to Beekeeper Cottage to make sure everyone’s safe, but Freya has already gone to the manor to meet with Elsa. Sadie races to retrieve her.

Ch7: At Derwold Manor, stark truths are revealed. Elsa has sealed the village off to protect Simon. More than that, she intends to set the stage for a new world order, one where women rule and men are consigned to history. She asks Sadie and Millie to join her, but Sadie refuses. She and Freya arrive back at Beekeeper Cottage only to find Georgia and Millie missing. They are captured by Elsa’s thugs, and reunited with Georgia and Millie, the four of them are imprisoned in the manor. 

Discovering the large rock in the cellar where they are confined is actually an ancient standing stone, Millie manages to tap into its magic, and she and Sadie are transported to an unknown location. 

Ch8: Enraged, Elsa threatens to kill Georgia if Freya doesn’t tell her where Sadie and Millie have gone, but Freya manages to convince her they know nothing of their whereabouts. Taking no chances, Elsa locks them in a room full of taxidermy specimens. Freya opens up to her mother, expressing her fears and doubts.

Meanwhile, in the Cornish town of Morcant-On-Sea, a tribe of Selkie rescue a near-drowned Sadie and Millie, then point them in the direction of the lighthouse. Sadie hopes that whoever lives up there can help them get back home. Having reached their destination, they discover a strange cocoon-like object. Before they have time to consider exactly what it is or what it means, they realise someone has followed them into the lighthouse.

Ch9: Elsa uses the menhir to determine Sadie and Millie’s whereabouts. Having discovered they are in the town where she spent her childhood, the enraged woman prepares to recapture them. 

Meanwhile, Sadie and Millie meet Hailey and Derek. Hailey tells them that whatever’s sleeping inside the cocoon was once her selkie aunt, Rita. Sadie explains that she needs to get back to Derwold to rescue Georgia and Freya, but with no easy way back to the mainland, they will need to wait until morning. Meanwhile, Sadie’s cat familiar, Billy Buckham, sneaks into Derwold Manor with plans of his own.

Some time later, Millie is awakened by a strange voice summoning her to the top of the lighthouse. There she meets a spectral version of Rita, and the two of them enjoy a moment of intimacy, culminating in an exchange of old magics. Over on the mainland, Elsa makes her way towards the coast to prepare an invasion.

Ch10: Elsa raises an army of the dead and invades Morcant-On-Sea. Sadie does her best to protect Hailey and Derek, but Millie is trapped in the lighthouse and they must get to her with all haste. Fighting their way to the top, they find a very angry Elsa. Revealing her true power, the dark witch threatens to kill them all, but she has invoked the wrath of the creature slumbering inside the cocoon. It bursts free, revealing itself to be a Siren. Amidst the ensuing chaos, the creature flies off with Elsa in its grasp, and Sadie, Millie, Hailey and Derek make their escape from the destroyed town.

Safely on board Derek’s trawler and bound for Derwold, Hailey discovers the sexual nature of Sadie and Millie’s relationship. The four of them part ways in the border town of Lydney. Hailey and Derek return to Morcant to help with rescue efforts, and Sadie and Millie head home, unaware of whatever awaits them there.

Ch11: Sadie and Bernard rally the entire village to march on Derwold Manor and rescue Georgia and Freya. Meanwhile, Georgia and Freya, with the help of Billy, manage to incapacitate Simon and escape. Finally reunited, Sadie, Georgia and the girls can only watch as the manor is consumed by flames. Simon chooses to perish in his home, rather than face the music.

Some days later, with life in Derwold having returned to normal, Georgia and the girls visit Sadie at her home. Sadie reveals she must leave the village and seek out the fate of the covens and her Wiccan sisters. To mark her departure, Sadie, Georgia and the girls enjoy an intimate picnic at the waterfall glade. But watching from the trees is a mysterious figure.

And now, dear readers, we make our way into the next installment. Read on…

by BlueJean

Several days before, in the aftermath of the Battle of Morcant, Hailey, Derek, Sadie and Millie have escaped the lighthouse and are on their way down to the harbour. Elsa Hart has been abducted by the Siren and is presumed dead.

Elsa/Siren

Elsa drifted in and out of consciousness. The right side of her head roared with pain. She tried to bring a hand up to assess the damage, but both arms were pinned against her body. There was more pain in her back, something cold and sharp embedded in the flesh there.

Claws.

A sudden jolt of comprehension hit her. The creature. The thing that had emerged from the cocoon. Whatever it was, it had taken her from the lighthouse. Taken her up. Even now, she could hear the beating of its wings.

Pressed tightly against her abductor’s body, Elsa managed to turn her head just enough to take in her surroundings. The dark of the night was beginning to give way to the first rays of morning, enough to see land off in the distance, and ocean far below. Her stomach lurched.

We’re in flight! By the Gods, whatever happens, I mustn’t struggle! If it drops me, I’m done for. Keep still, now. Keep…

In spite of her best efforts, Elsa faded back into unconsciousness.

Frances/Reeta

The girl on the beach.

Why do I think about her now, after so much time has passed?

I’d forgotten her, like all the other things about this place, filed them away in some dark corner of my mind where they couldn’t trouble me.

The selkie girl with the wooden clock.

She had red hair, just like me. I hated my red hair. The other children made fun of me for it. Hers was thick and flowing. Mine was frizzy and wild. But at least we had that much in common.

How long had it taken to pluck up the courage to talk to her? A month? Six months? A year? I can’t remember. But I did eventually talk to her.

No, that’s not quite right. She spoke to me first.

“Look see!“

She was playing on the beach, down by the old seahenge. I was loitering up on the bank where the sand gave way to sea grass and scrub, pretending to look for fossils. I turned and peered behind me, thinking maybe she was calling out to someone else. I gestured to myself. “Huh? Me?“

“Look see, girl!“

It was the first time I’d heard her speak. She had a strange accent, and she never seemed to wear any clothes. I thought she might be feral. Or worse – one of those gypsy girls. Mother always told me the gypsies couldn’t be trusted.

“Come look at my clock!“ the naked girl cried. “I will show you how it works.“

The clock was made entirely of wood. It was a wondrous, impossible thing, a multi-faceted network of complex parts inlaid with carved depictions of trees and unknown animals. It was shaped like an intricate leaf, and its etched numerals – if indeed they were numerals – were of a design I had never seen before. I wonder now how much of that detail was real, and how much my memory has embellished over the long years since I last laid eyes on it.

I watched as the girl took the clock apart piece by piece, until the small flat rock where she worked was strewn with little wooden cogs and springs, dowels and dials and pegs.

“Why are you breaking it up?“ I asked.

The girl paused in her task. “Breaking? No, no, not breaking. I separate the bits and bobs, then put them all back together. Over and over again.“

“Why?“

“I like to understand how it works. It is a puzzle.“

“It’s a clock, not a puzzle.“

“It is both, human girl,” she told me. “If even one single piece is put in the wrong place, the clock will not work.“ She looked off wistfully towards the town above, its brightly painted houses barely visible above the cliff line. “I would like something new to play with, but I just have this. The Elders say there are many strange machines in your village, but I am not allowed to go there.“

“What’s your name?“

“Reeta of the Selkie,“ she said proudly.

I felt a little shiver ripple through me at the way she pronounced her name, the ‘R’ rolling off her tongue in a liquid, throaty trill.

Reeta of the Selkie slotted a delicately carved cog into place. “This wheel goes here, see? We will use one of the little sticks to secure it. Now we can put this smaller wheel to the first. When we spin one wheel, the other will move too. Do you see, human girl?“

“I’m called Frances. Why don’t you have anything on?“

“Hmm?“

“You’re always naked when I see you. Don’t you wear clothes?“

Reeta of the Selkie gestured sheepishly to the animal skin lying next to her, as if unsure such a thing qualified as clothing. “Um… I wear this when I swim.“

“Oh. All right.“

She gave me her full regard for the first time. Her eyes were the colour of dusky emeralds. “Did someone hurt you, Frances?“

My hand went instinctively to my bruised cheek. “N-no. I… I hit my head.“

“Your aura is so bright! Will you sit with me awhile? We can build the clock together.“

Reeta of the Selkie. How could I ever have forgotten her?

Because I left her there. I left everything there. Everything that was weakness, everything that was pain. Everything that was love.

But I was fool enough to come back.

Elsa/Siren

Elsa opened her eyes to find herself atop a rocky outcrop overlooking the sea, seemingly stranded on one of the small islets that dotted the coast.

The creature sat poised a few feet away, its serpentine tail coiled beneath it. It cocked its head from one side to the other, as if trying to take measure of its quarry. A tremulous pulsing sound resonated from its throat, and from the way it thrummed through Elsa’s body, it seemed likely to be some kind of sensory apparatus.

“Harpy, is it?“ Elsa asked of the thing. “Siren, maybe? The only visual reference I have is a medieval bestiary, and they were terrible artists back then.“

She slowly drew herself into a kneeling position, careful not to alarm the creature. The pain rushed up to meet her, and when she brought a hand up to feel for the source, she knew for sure her right ear had gone. Whatever remained was raw and bloody.

Elsa gave her immediate surroundings a cursory survey, trying to determine a quick escape route. There was none, save the obvious.

The creature peeled back its lips into a rictus grin, revealing two rows of sharp teeth. It swept its hair back behind its shoulders in a gesture that was somehow mocking.

Red hair like mine.

“I’m afraid you’ve made a rather foolish mistake, creature,” Elsa said. “You think I’m trapped up here with you? No. You’re trapped up here with me!“

She thrust a hand out and directed her sorcery at the monster, dark energy seeking flesh to feed on. The siren screeched in surprise as a gash opened up below its pale breasts, blood spraying from the wound. In the blink of an eye, it uncoiled and launched itself at Elsa.

Not expecting the creature to move with such startling speed, Elsa barely managed to pull up her ward in time. The siren recoiled from the disorientating magic, shaking its head in confusion.

“Serves you right for biting my ear off, bitch! Now fucking die!“

The witch stumbled to her feet and reached out with both hands, hurling energy at the siren with terrifying ferocity. More lacerations began to erupt across its pale body, and all at once Elsa was twelve years old again, back in the living room of that house of horrors with her mother and her mother’s brutish man.

Frances! Frances, please! She’s killing us, Samuel!

“I’m not your victim, monster!“ Elsa roared. “I’m not anyone’s victim! I was done with that a long time ago! Do you hear me?! Do you—”

In one swift movement, the siren unfolded its great wings and used them to close the distance in a heartbeat. Too late, Elsa realised her error. She tried to snatch her arms back inside the protective membrane of the ward, but the creature caught her left hand between its teeth, biting down with a sickening crunch of bone and sinew.

In Elsa’s adrenaline-fuelled state, the pain was not immediately apparent. Instead, it was the sight of her hand reduced to thumb and four bloody stumps that made her scream, as much rage as it was shocked despair. “Stop biting bits off me, you repulsive thing!“ She grabbed hold of the creature by its hair – red hair like mine – and dragged it inside the boundaries of the ward.

The siren screeched in terror, doing all it could to pull itself free. Elsa held on with all her might, laughing hysterically, all rationality pushed aside in favour of blind rage.

Frances! Frances, please!

“Do you see now, creature? You’re trapped up here with me! I win! I fucking w—”

And then she was falling. They were both falling. Siren and witch tangled together, tumbling down to the water below.

Frances/Reeta

When I wasn’t at school I’d spend all the daylight hours playing with Reeta on the beach. I knew my reclusive mother would never venture out of the house to look for me, and her disgusting boyfriend spent most of his time at the pub down by the harbour, drinking himself into a stupor. Eventually, I would have to go home and face the music, but there was some respite in that secluded cove, for a time, at least.

Reeta and I would dismantle and reassemble the clock until we grew bored of it, then simply occupy our time playing together or talking about inconsequential things.

I suppose by then I must have been aware of what Reeta was. I’m sure she had an inkling that I was not quite the normal human girl I appeared to be. I don’t recall that we made much of our distinctions. We accepted one another, as children often do, and like our red hair, perhaps that otherworldliness we shared was another thing to cement our friendship.

Reeta showed me where she stashed the clock. It had its own box made from the same dense wood, and she would bury it between two large rocks up by the cliff. “If I am not here, you can still play with the clock,” she told me. “But you mustn’t tell anyone, Frances. It was gifted to us long ago by the Dryad. It is very old and precious, and a great honour for me to be its custodian. But if it is stolen I will be in big trouble. I would probably be exiled, and it is a terrible thing for a selkie to be alone!“

“I won’t tell anyone,” I promised.

“Good. Shall we kiss now?“

I looked at her dumbly. “What?“

“A kiss. You know what a kiss is, yes? I want to, and I think you want to because you keep looking at me that way. So we should kiss.“

So we kissed. And it was the single most wonderful thing I’d ever experienced in all my eleven short years. I fell in love without a second thought. Because I needed it. I needed it to keep the dark from swallowing me up.

I turned twelve that summer. Reeta taught me how to breathe the oxygen in the water, and how to use echolocation to see what my eyes could not. I took to it easily, if only because I was capable of so much more than the average human.

My own gifts were beginning to make themselves known, threads of kinetic energy primed in my fingertips, the ability to kindle heat and manipulate blood.

I remember the day I foolishly decided to give Reeta a demonstration of my new powers. My mother had been particularly cruel to me that morning, pinching my nipples beneath my jumper and pulling my hair until I cried out for her to stop. After one too many visits from welfare officials, she had learnt not to leave any marks.

I was angry, and abuse has a tendency to become circular, so I decided to pick on a little red crab.

Reeta had found it minding its own business in a small rock pool. I pulled it from the water and set in down on the pale sand.

“Watch this,” I said with a grin, then directed heat towards the little creature. It immediately adopted an aggressive posture, reaching out with its claws.

“What are you doing?“ Reeta asked me with a concerned look.

Tendrils of steam began drifting up from the crab. It fell onto its back, pincers working in futile gestures until finally it became still.

“Frances, stop it. Stop it!“

Reeta barrelled into me, knocking me aside.

“What did you do that for?!“ I yelled.

“You killed it!“

“So? It’s just a bloody crab! You kill fish all the time, I’ve seen you!“

“For food, not for fun!“

I screwed my face up in fury. “You told me you enjoyed the hunt! You said so!“

“Yes, I enjoy the hunt, but what you just did wasn’t joy, it was spite!“

“Shut up! You don’t know anything! It was just a stupid crab!“

I stormed away angrily. Why should I feel bad for not being the victim for once? Why should I feel ashamed for turning the tables, for being the one to exercise power?

It was the first time I realised I was not so weak, after all.

Elsa/Siren

The siren pulled her down into the depths.

They were in the creature’s territory now, the cold, dark, unforgiving waters that had claimed so many lives.

But Elsa Hart was rather more robust than other members of her species. She was of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Old Blood.

The dark witch had no choice but to let her ward drop. The protective barrier was all but impossible to maintain underwater, and her energies would now be needed elsewhere. With the ward extinguished, she expected the creature to lash out, but it simply held on and dragged her down, its tail cutting an easy path through the water.

Clever thing. Why waste energy fighting when you can just drown me? But I’m not done with the world just yet. 

Against all her instincts, Elsa opened her mouth and let the cold, saline water fill her lungs. Panic threatened to set in until she could tamp it down and master herself.

Fear is irrelevant. It doesn’t help me. Cut it away. Ignore it.

She could breathe the water, though not for any great length of time. Her lungs would work at extracting the dissolved oxygen as best they could, but the limits of human physiology would eventually render the task untenable.

Elsa stilled both body and mind, inducing the same dream-like state that had so often dulled the beatings as a child.

You’re a dirty girl, Frances! What do we do with dirty girls? We punish them, don’t we? Yes, we do!

All you did was make me stronger, Mother.

She closed her eyes and let the creature take her down. If they went deep enough, the pressure would kill her long before the siren could finish the job, but Elsa was fairly sure the waters around the coast were shallow enough to avoid that particular fate.

Something hard and jagged brushed along her arms, and then she was kneeling on a surface of the same material. Wood. Old wood.

The creature released her from its grip, and Elsa let her arms fall to her sides. She had reduced her heartbeat to a slow, deathly tattoo. She opened her eyes, but all was black. The creature was making that awful sound again, a deep, resonant thrum that made the cold water vibrate. It was watching her. Waiting for her to die.

No. No, I think not.

Elsa made a series of sharp tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth, the sound waves bouncing back to reinterpret themselves as images. She drew on her arcane reservoir to clarify and prolong them.

A ship. I’m inside an old wrecked ship.

The creature was poised a few metres away, its tail coiled around a thick wooden beam. It stirred at Elsa’s clicks, perhaps realising its prey was not quite as helpless as it had first believed. It lunged forward, threading itself through the wreckage towards her.

The dark witch pulled herself quickly from her suspended animation and raised both arms aloft. The water surrounding the creature instantly began to boil, causing it to writhe in fury and pain. It lashed out, gouging Elsa across the scalp and down her face. The pain was immense, and Elsa was sure one of her eyes had been dashed out. She generated more heat around the siren, and while it thrashed about in agony, she braced herself against the rotten hull and kicked out at a large oaken strut set at an awkward angle, once, twice, three times. On the fourth attempt it finally came free, the structure it supported crashing down onto the creature.

Elsa quickly pushed herself back out of harm’s way, narrowly avoiding being buried in the wreckage herself. She dragged her body through an opening in the hull, then swam with all her might towards the surface.

Frances/Reeta

The last day of Frances Mooney’s life. And the first day of Elsa Hart’s.

It was inevitable I would snap one day. Of course it was. Fight or flight, and there was never anywhere else to fly to.

My recollections of that day are fragmented; a series of snapshots.

I see myself shuffling through the harbour. People are staring at me. I’m black and blue. There’s pain between my legs. They really went to town on me that day, worked themselves into such a frenzy they probably didn’t stop to consider the marks they were leaving. They wouldn’t ever do it again, though. No.

I found myself down on the beach. Reeta ran towards me with wide, horrified eyes, but something stopped her from reaching out to me. She must’ve seen something there. Something different. Something dangerous.

“Wh-what did they do, Frances?“ she whispered.

My voice was a drone, devoid of emotion. “It doesn’t matter anymore.“

“Come away with me. You must! Before it’s too late.“

“No.“

“Why?“

“I can’t live in the sea, stupid. I’m not Selkie. Stupid stupid stooopid…“

“Frances, you’re scaring me.“

“I’ve come to say goodbye.“

“G-goodbye?“

“I can’t be your friend anymore.“

Reeta of the Selkie looked crestfallen. “You mustn’t say that!“

“I’m going to do something terrible. You won’t want to be friends with me after that.“ I turned and walked away. “You’re just a dirty animal, anyway. I hate you.“

“Frances!“

Keep walking.

“Frances, come back!“

Don’t look back. Close your heart to it.

“Look see, Frances! Look see!“

Don’t need friends. Don’t want friends.

“FRANCES!“

Tân a gwaed. Fire and blood. These are the weapons with which I killed my bitch of a mother, and I have kept them well honed.

Elsa/Siren

Elsa dragged herself from the water. Every part of her body screamed with the effort of it. Down on her hands and knees, she retched violently, clearing her lungs of seawater. She gulped the cool, clean air, then wiped blood from her eyes, relieved to find she still had full vision in both. She staggered over to the wall of rocks nearby and collapsed down next to them, resting her back against their hard surface.

Don’t pass out. Stay awake, damn it.

Somewhere beneath the jagged lines of pain, something else was working its way through her system.

Wonderful. The disgusting thing poisoned me.

Was the toxin meant to kill, or merely incapacitate? Nothing to be done about it now, either way.

She picked the sharpest looking stone she could find and used it to hack away at the hem of her shirt, tearing a piece of the fabric away to tie around her brow. It would keep the blood from oozing into her eyes; stem the flow a little. Having done that, she brought her ravaged hand up to inspect. A low groan escaped her.

Don’t you dare cry! We’re not going to feel sorry for ourselves. The fingers are gone. Accept it.

“Christ, it hurts, though. Hurts like hell.“

She needed to get to civilisation, to a hospital. But what was she supposed to do, swim? It looked like she was stranded on a rocky spit of beach, the mainland a couple of miles or so off in the distance. She’d summoned the dead and used their spectral energy to buoy herself across the water to Morcant, but in her current state there was no chance of repeating that task. She could barely stand, let alone muster the power needed for such sorcery.

I’m not dying here. I’m not.

But when she caught movement down by the shoreline, and turned to see what it was, she was forced to reconsider that assessment. There was a very good chance she was going to die, after all. Because the siren was slithering out of the water towards her.

Elsa grabbed a fist-sized stone, then dragged herself to her feet. The sudden rush of blood to the head nearly floored her, and it was all she could do not to lose consciousness. She braced herself against the rocks and waited for the inevitable.

I come! I come!

Minerva, no! Stay away! You can’t help! Stay a—

But it was too late. The magpie was already here, diving down with startling speed. She dashed one of the siren’s eyes out with her beak, then darted away again. The siren screeched in pain and surprise.

Minerva circled above, then launched herself at the creature once more. It snatched the bird out of the air before she had time to attack again and flung her against a rock, the impact making a sickening crunch.

Elsa drew in a series of sharp breaths, almost choking them back out.

I come… will… help… will… will…

Then nothing. The sudden cold, empty void where once a piece of Elsa’s soul had resided, the cerebral link with her animal familiar severed with cruel finality.

Elsa wailed, the sound primal in its grief, more animal than human.

The siren came at her, its dashed eye now nothing more than a dangling blob of bloody jelly. It scuttled across the rocks towards her like some monstrous scorpion.

“You fucking abomination!“ Elsa sobbed. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! My bird! My Minerva! Yes, keep coming, monster! Closer! Closer!”

The siren was almost on top of her now. It bared its razor-sharp teeth, coiling its body to attack.

Elsa brandished her little rock in a gesture that spoke as much of defiance as it did futility.

I’ve nothing left to use. No more sorcery. Too weak. Too tired. Unless…

No, the very idea was insane. She couldn’t say for sure if she even had enough energy left to pull off something like that. Not when she’d exhausted all her power.

If you’re going to do it, do it now. There’s no time left.

In the very same moment the siren lunged at her, Elsa mustered everything she had left and shifted into the spectral realm.

The risk was enormous. To drag one’s physical self to this place was akin to being in outer space without a protective suit. Any more than a brief moment here would kill her. And if she didn’t have enough reserves left to teleport back…

Elsa passed through the creature, spun round to face its back, raised the rock aloft, then materialised back into the physical realm. She brought the crude weapon down onto the creature’s skull with all the force she could muster, again and again and again.

The siren fell to the ground, making a futile effort at protecting itself with its hands. Elsa collapsed to her knees and continued her assault, pummeling the creature in a relentless barrage of attacks.

This is what it comes down to, she thought. When the sorcery is done, this is what remains. Ape. Rock. Enemy.

Elsa threw the bloodied stone to one side and used both hands to heft a larger rock above her head. The raw stumps of her fingers screamed with pain, but she had no room for it. She loomed over the cowering siren, ready to end it once and for all. “I. Win. I. Always. Win. I’m. Elsa Hart! Elsa! Ha—”

Then the siren spoke.

“Fran-cess. Fran-cess.”

The sound was harsh and gutteral. The creature’s hair was matted with blood, red upon red.

Red hair like mine…

Red. Hair.

Elsa’s eyes went wide.

The creature drew a hand down to its belly, fixing Elsa with its one good eye. “Look ss-eee, Fran-cess. Look sss-eeee.“

Horrified, Elsa’s eyes travelled down to the thing’s distended stomach.

“Bay-bee, Fran-cess. Bay-bee. No hurt. No. Hurt.“

Oh, Gods. Reeta? And she’s… no… what is this?

Elsa let the rock slide from her grip. It toppled to the ground. She rocked back and forth on her haunches. “No… no, no, no…”

The siren made a sickening gurgling sound, blood oozing from its mouth. It crawled away towards the shoreline to pull itself into the water. Elsa let it go. The last she saw of the creature was its tail slithering down beneath the surface.

What sick joke had the Gods played on her this time?

Reeta. Little Reeta of the Selkie, twisted into the shape of a monster.

Her beloved Minerva gone, snuffed out like a candle.

The past returned to torment her.

Don’t try to make sense of it. Don’t try to understand what it all means. It’ll just drive you insane. This fucking place. Too much. Too much.

Elsa threw her head back and screamed.

Elsa/Old Friends

The bird was limp and lifeless; still warm to the touch, though growing colder by the second. Elsa cradled it in her hands.

“What trouble have you got yourself into this time, hmm?“ she cooed. “Silly Minerva. Such a brave little bird. What shall we do with you?“ She brought the bird to her cheek, seeking out the last of its warmth before it disappeared forever. “What shall we… Oh, my friend. Look at you.”

She fashioned a shroud from another piece of her torn shirt and folded it carefully around the magpie, then tied the two ends together to secure it, the task made more difficult with only one fully-functioning hand. Finally, she secured the package to one of the belt rings on her trousers.

Weak and delirious, Elsa found herself shuffling along the beach, unaware that she had even made the decision to move. Some part of her considered the best course of action might be to find a sheltered nook, somewhere she could curl into a ball and shut her body down, the way she had when the creature dragged her down into the depths.

And when Mother used to lock me in the cupboard under the stairs after one of the beatings.

She might heal faster than way. Or the poison might just kill her quicker. Hard to say. She’d never been in a situation this dire before.

She stumbled on something and fell to her knees. The bloodied stumps of her fingers scraped along the stony ground, the searing agony of it crashing into her like a white hot wave. With monumental effort, she pushed herself to her feet and continued on.

Her dead mother came to taunt her.

Serves you right, wicked girl! Did you think you could kill your own poor mother and get away with it? Shame on you. Shame!

The creature, too. Reeta-Siren.

Look sss-eeee. Fran-cess is all a-lone. Ha-ha-ha-ha.

Even Simon had come to cheer her on.

You must think me quite the fool, Elsa. Did you think I didn’t know you were manipulating me all this time? I knew. That’s all right, my dear. I didn’t love you any more than you loved me. I just needed a firm hand, someone to set me straight.

“Get out of my head. All of you!“

The sun traced a slow arc across a cloudless sky. Elsa walked, and when she could no longer walk, she crawled. She swatted at things that weren’t there. “Away! Not done. Not done…”

She was sitting on her haunches by the water’s edge, the tide lapping at her heels. How long she’d been there she had no idea. Her heart was beating too fast, rushing loudly in her ears. Woosh woosh. Woosh woosh. Woosh woosh.

“Pretty seashells… when… when did we… my bird… have you seen my…”

There was some kind of structure a short distance away, a small shack made of corrugated sheets. Elsa watched it carefully, expecting it to blink out of existence like all the other hallucinations.

Then someone was peering down at her, an old man with milky eyes.

“Oh, now. What’s this, then?“ he wheezed.

Teeth bared, she hissed, “Touch me and I’ll kill—”

Elsa passed out before she could finish the threat.

Elsa/Hermit

Her eyes fluttered open to the alarming sight of the old man looming over her, pale, bony fingers reaching out to touch her face.

Elsa’s hand shot out and clamped around his scrawny neck. Far from being alarmed, the old man gently prised her fingers from his throat and gave her hand a pat before letting it rest against her chest.

“Easy there. Won’t hurt you. Too old to hurt anyone, see? Rest. Safe now. As much as any of us is safe.“

Elsa’s hand slipped down to her hip, eyes going wide with alarm when she found nothing but the cotton of her trousers. “My bird! What’ve you done with her?! I’ll tear your heart out if—“

“Calm now. Put it in a little box for safekeeping. Could tell it was special to you.“

She closed her eyes and drifted away again.

***

When next she awoke, her senses were somewhat clearer, her body free of the siren’s poison, or at least receded to the point where it was no longer the concern it had been. The pain that had been so all-consuming had now retreated to a series of dull throbs and aches.

The old man was sitting up to a makeshift worktop comprised of two crates set adjacent to one another. He had his back to her, but turned when he heard her stir.

“Look who’s awake,” he said.

A thin, reedy squawk came from somewhere within the hut, and Elsa caught a brief flash of grey-white feathers. For one hopeful moment she had a bizarre notion that the old man had somehow revived Minerva, brought her beloved familiar back from the dead.

“Seagull,” he told her, showing her the bird. “A young’un, see? They crash into the rocks sometimes, learning to fly. Do themselves some terrible injuries. Broken wings and such. Help, if I can. If not… best to put them out of their misery. Reckon this one’ll live to fly again, eh?“

The old man picked up the bird with great care and took it outside. When he returned a few minutes later, he hobbled over to the stack of pallets where Elsa rested on a thin foam mattress.

She eyed him warily. “Where am I?“ she croaked, throat like dry parchment.

“Home,” the old man told her, before adding, “My home, that is. You’ve been drifting in and out for a couple of days now.“ He fetched her a bottle of water, bringing it to her lips. Elsa pushed herself up to a sitting position and took the bottle from his hand.

“I’m not one of your seagulls,” she told him, raising the bottle to her mouth to take several large gulps.

“Didn’t mean no offence. Bedside manner, is all. Used to be a medic in the army.“ He eyed Elsa sheepishly for several long moments, perhaps expecting her to ask how an army medic ended up living in a shack on a remote stretch of beach. When no questions were forthcoming, he seemed almost relieved. He gestured to her face. “Needed to stitch some of them cuts. The deeper ones. Had to shave some of your hair away to get at them, sorry to say. “

Elsa brought her only functioning hand up to feel for the old boy’s handiwork. Her fingers traced the harsh tracks that mapped her face and scalp. The other hand had been bandaged up neatly. She peered around the dirty-looking hut. “What did you stitch them with, a rusty fishing hook and a bit of old wire? I’d rather not die of sepsis after everything I’ve been through.“

“Have plenty of clean kit,” he told her, gesturing to several of the boxes scattered haphazardly around the hut. “The proper stuff. Know how to sterilise it, too. Lots of drinking water and first aid kit. Everything else takes care of itself. Get back to the mainland now and then, stock up on—“

“Yes, yes, I don’t need your life story. Fetch me a mirror.“

He did. Elsa stared back at herself. The stitching was neat enough, as stitching went, but Gods, she was a mess. The smaller cuts would fade to nothing eventually – her capacity for healing exceeded those of the average human – but the deeper ones would leave their mark. And exceptional healing abilities or not, she wouldn’t be growing new fingers or ears any time soon.

You really did a number on us, Reeta, old girl. Me and my Minerva.

“You didn’t think to get me to a hospital?“ she said to the old man.

He turned away from her, running fingers through the straggly filaments of his silver beard. “Should’ve, I know. Only has a small boat, though. It’s a fair old way to the mainland, and I don’t get back there too often. But I know how to heal the sick, see. Was a medic—”

Elsa impatiently waved him quiet. “Yes, a medic in the army. You mentioned it. Well, no matter. I can’t say a lengthy stay in a hospital ward holds much appeal anyway.“ Her eyes were feeling heavy. “I need to sleep.“

The old man gave Elsa a smile of such honest kindness, it caused a wave of inexplicable shame to wash over her.

“Shut up,” she told him before drifting into slumber.

“Didn’t say nothin’,” he replied to her sleeping form. “Glad you’re all right, though.“

***

Several days passed on the small stretch of beach. Elsa regained her strength quickly, and soon enough she was strong enough to leave the confines of the hut and venture outside. Often she would find the old man sitting out there with a penknife and various bits of driftwood, carving abstract shapes from them. At first, he would try to hide these creations from her, until she put his mind at ease.

“You don’t need to stop on my account.“

“Don’t even know what they’re meant to be,” he admitted. “Maybe it don’t matter. Just working on the wood keeps my mind off… you know, other things…”

“Mmm. That one looks a bit like a clock I used to play with.“

“Funny lookin’ clock, then.“

“It was. I wonder if it’s still there.“

The old man wouldn’t meet her eyes when he spoke. “Not gonna ask me why I live here?“

Elsa gazed out at the ocean. “Are you going to ask what happened to me?“

“None of my business.“

“Agreed. And yours is none of mine.“

Later that night Elsa was woken by the sound of the old man talking in his sleep, curled up in a nest of blankets on the floor of the shack.

“They’re killin’ the women and children, sir! Stop them! The women and children… they’re… the children…” He trailed off into an indistinct mumble.

You tried to run away, too, didn’t you, old man? But all you did was take it with you. That’s all we ever do, really.

She drifted back into sleep and dreamed her own monsters.

Elsa?/Frances?

Elsa cut the last tuft of her frizzy hair away, letting it fall to the floor with the rest. She set the scissors down, then moved the small shaving mirror around her head to inspect her barbery. She’d cropped it as short as the scissors would allow, and it was patchy and uneven, but now it looked a little more consistent, at least.

“Don’t look too bad,” the old man told her earnestly.

“I look like the Bride of Frankenstein, but it’ll do.“

“Ready to head out? Boat’s ready.“

“Mmm.“

The old man took them towards Morcant in his little dinghy, the outboard chugging out puffs of dirty black smoke. Elsa had little desire to be back here, but there was something she needed to do before she made the journey back to Derwold.

When they got nearer to the shore, the old boy could only flip the engine off and stare open-mouthed. “What on earth happened…?“

Morcant-On-Sea had apparently returned to its origin as a small fishing village, because nothing remained beyond the harbour except for the lighthouse, now teetering on the edge of the cliff above. Everything in between was a gaping maw of devastation.

Elsa took in the sight of her handiwork.

It looked more or less abandoned anyway, she told herself, then delved a little deeper for a more honest appraisal.

All right. Maybe I went too far. And whatever I was trying to destroy was never in that town in the first place, was it? No. I took it with me, just like the old man took his. My temper tantrum destroyed an entire town. Foolish. Childish.

“Set us down on the beach over there,” Elsa told the old man, pointing past the great natural arch that led to the henge.

“But Morcant… Maybe we should see if they need—”

“It happened days ago. I doubt there’s anyone left. The beach, if you please.“

The old man brought the bow up onto the sand and killed the motor. Elsa climbed from the boat.

“Wait for me. I won’t be long.“

“All right, then.“

She wasn’t sure she would recognise the lay of the land. It had been almost seventy years since she’d last set foot on this beach, and time had shaped its shores by whim or will. The tree henge hadn’t changed, of course. Elsa supposed that must have been where Sadie and Millie had reappeared after their unplanned escape from the manor.

A minute or two spent scanning the area up by the cliff and she found what she was looking for – two large rocks with a narrow recess between them. Elsa trudged up the bank, her limbs still weak enough to appreciate the effort it took.

She peered down at the small bundle in her hand. “Well, it’s a long shot, Minerva. But stranger things happen at sea.“

Setting the bird down on the ground, Elsa began scooping sand away from the small gap with her good hand. After several minutes of this rudimentary excavation, she was just about ready to give up when her fingers hit upon something solid. She redoubled her efforts, clearing sand from around the object.

A wooden box. The wooden box.

Elsa carefully prised the lid off and peered inside. “Will wonders never cease…”

She drew the clock out and held it up to inspect. It was smaller than she remembered, of course it was, but no less wondrous for that. It was heavy, the wood unnaturally dense, almost like stone or metal. When her fingernail scraped over the clock’s surface, leaving not so much as a single mark, Elsa wondered how it had been possible to carve such wood so delicately and precisely.

The clock’s numerals bore no resemblance to those of more modern timepieces, and decades after first laying eyes on them, Elsa now realised they were archaic runes, though of a variant she was unfamiliar with.

A line of verse came to her, something she’d picked up from a manuscript, scribed and rescribed until the original source had been long forgotten.

Back where the Ironwoods sleep beneath the ice

Waiting for Danu’s children to return

Was it possible the clock had been fashioned from those ironwoods of legend, the great towering trees that were said to be unique to the Tuatha homeland? If so, this was like discovering Noah’s Ark or the Grail.

The temptation to take the clock with her was hard to resist, but that wasn’t why she had come. And though she’d never shied away from taking things that did not belong to her, Elsa drew a line here. This clock represented something more than the object itself.

She put it back in its box, then found a small space in one corner to slot her dead bird.

“Géillim don Timthriall thú, mo chuid eolach. Bí ar son na síochána.“ I surrender you to the Cycle, my familiar. Be at peace.

She replaced the lid, then refilled the hole with sand. When the task was done, Elsa found her feet and turned to look out across the open water. It was calm and still; peaceful.

It wasn’t quite redemption. But a weight had been lifted. There had been some honour in the small ritual, and honour had been absent from Elsa’s life for far too long. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in the sea air. “Look see, Reeta of the Selkie,” she murmured. “Look see.“

***

A short while later, the small dinghy washed up on the mainland. Elsa could see her Porsche parked up a short distance away. Somehow, the car seemed a silly thing to her now, like so much window dressing. Indulgent; unnecessary.

She climbed from the boat and made for the carpark above, but came to an abrupt halt before she’d got more than a few feet. Feeling uncharacteristically awkward, she turned back to the old boy sitting in his dinghy. She supposed she owed him… something. 

“Yes, well… thank you,“ she told him with a curt nod.

Why is it so hard to acknowledge help?

She held up a cautionary finger. “If you give me one of those nauseating smiles, I’m probably going to drown you.“

The old man rattled out a laugh, then gave her a quick salute. He cranked the motor back to life, then began moving towards the lonely stretch of beach he called home. He turned his head back briefly and called out to her. “Name’s Len! What’s yours?“

Elsa thought about it as she watched his boat get smaller and smaller. “I’m not sure,” she told herself, because he was out of earshot by then. “Time will tell, I suppose.“

She climbed behind the wheel of her car and set the satnav for Derwold. There was work to do.

Afterword

Sometimes an idea won’t leave me alone until I write it down. 

Just when I thought The Beekeeper’s Lament was finished, two separate ideas kept nagging at me. One was a somewhat abstract image of a younger Rita sitting on a beach playing with a clock and hollering the words, “Look see!“ (Yes, that’s what passes for a story idea in my head). I didn’t quite know where it fit into the greater Beekeeper/Selkie narrative, thinking maybe it was going to be part of a prequel story I was writing.

The other idea was a more straightforward one: What exactly happened to Elsa after the siren flew off with her in Chapter Ten? 

As these two ideas began to merge and take shape, it occurred to me that Elsa and Rita (or Frances and Reeta as they were) might have met at some point in the past, seeing as they both called Morcant-On-Sea home. 

Eventually, I sat down and wrote the damn thing, and this additional chapter was born. It’s very much a part of the larger tale, though it takes a slightly different form than the other chapters – a subtitle, different chapter headings, the way it dips back and forth between past and present, and the past segments narrated by Elsa herself.

I hope you got some enjoyment out of it. At the very least, I think you might understand our villainous dark witch a little better now.

On to Chapter Thirteen!

The Story Thus Far

Chapter One: Mallory Kalvornek and her lover Julie Hanson have returned to Bronning, Minnesota, for the first time in years to catch up with friends and family. Meanwhile, their old friend (and occasional sex partner) paramedic Nettie Hastings fights to save a life, her lover Hannah drops by with an unexpected surprise, Terry Wilder grapples with writer’s block… and two little girls living in a trailer park named Heather and Gina are being carefully observed by a hidden stranger.

Chapter Two: Mallory and Julie get together at Nettie’s home with Nettie and her lover Hannah, Nettie’s friend Terry Wilder, Terry’s teen daughter Halee, and Mallory and Julie’s friend (and occasional sex partner) Cindy. Gossip is exchanged, memories shared, and an unexpected attraction between Mallory and Terry Wilder reveals itself. Meanwhile, the mother of the two trailer park girls Heather and Gina goes out for a night on the town, oblivious to the presence of the man spying on her home.

Chapter Three: At Nettie’s place, Nettie and Hannah leave the others to indulge in a bit of romantic pleasure, while Julie and her old friend Cindy get it on with Terry’s teen daughter Halee. As for Mallory, she has repaired to Terry’s place for one of her occasional bouts of heterosexual action. Appetites are indulged, confidences shared. Meanwhile, Heather and Gina are abducted from their trailer home by a mysterious and very scary man.

Chapter Four: Mallory, Julie, Nettie, Hannah and Cindy hit the woods for a day of fishing, to be followed by a night of camping. Halee prepares a for what promises to be a thrilling video hookup with her friend Bethany. And sisters Heather and Gina are in the custody of the mysterious stranger, who seems bent on turning them into quivering, terrified wrecks.

For a list of the characters from the story you are now reading, visit this page. 

For a list of the characters from the previous two stories that you will encounter here as well, visit this page.

And now, dear readers, we make our way into the next installment. Read on…

by Rachael Yukey

On and on we’re charging to the place so many seek
In perfect synchronicity of which so many speak
We feel so close to heaven in this roaring heavy load
And then in sheer abandonment we shatter and explode
Judas Priest, 1986

The tent was a big one, large enough to accommodate the three twin-sized air mattresses they’d brought. Sleeping bags and piles of blankets were lined up around the edges of the tent; it would be getting down into the high 40s that night.

Cindy sprawled onto the mattress furthest from the tent flap, pulling out her phone as the two couples piled in behind her. Her hands trembling in anticipation, Julie zipped the tent shut. Nettie guided Hannah to the mattress at the opposite end, pulling her lover down and into a long, slow, sensuous kiss.

Mallory and Julie settled themselves onto the center mattress, sitting cross-legged and watching Hannah and Nettie’s leisurely osculation, holding hands. Cindy slid over to join them, coming to rest beside Mallory and squeezing her hand. The three of them enjoyed the view for awhile, but their attention was gradually diverted towards each other. After a few minutes of subtle scooting around, they were situated in a tight little three-way circle, hands joined.

“God, I’ve missed this,” Julie murmured.

“Yeah, me too,” whispered Mallory. “Pity Emma couldn’t make it, though.”

“I did call her when you said you were coming,” said Cindy, keeping her own voice low. “But she’s in the middle of a big project at work. Still…” disengaging her hand from Julie’s, she plucked her phone from the mattress and held it aloft. “Maybe she can kinda be here.”

She shifted her gaze to the next mattress over, where nothing appeared to have changed. Hannah was lying full-length atop Nettie, their mouths crushed together. Nettie’s hands were firmly clamped to Hannah’s ass.

“Hey, girls?” Cindy ventured. Disengaging their faces from each other with some reluctance, Hannah and Nettie turned their heads in her direction.

“Need something?” asked Nettie.

“Is it cool if we invite an extra to the party virtually?”

“Would it by any chance be Emma?”

“It would!”

“I’m good with it,” said Nettie. “Hannah?”

“Oh, absolutely! You guys have talked so much about her, I feel like I know her already.”

“Great,” said Nettie, her left hand cupping Hannah’s cheek and turning her head back to center. “Now where were we?” Cindy, already prepared for the moment, stabbed at her phone.

A moment later a delicate-featured brunette appeared on her screen, sprawled in an armchair. “Hey, lady,” said Emma, giving a small wave with the hand that wasn’t holding her phone aloft.

“That’s ladies, plural,” said Cindy, smushing herself alongside Julie and Mallory and zooming to encompass the three of them.

Emma’s face split into a huge smile. “Oh, I should have known. Hi girls!”

“Hey!” said Julie.

“How’re you doing?” Mallory chimed in.

“I’d be better if I was with you guys. But everyone’s working through the weekend, because we’re behind schedule on this goddamn network install. And the client keeps changing parameters; I had to redesign half the system today. Hope you girls are having more fun than that.”

“It’s been a good day!” said Julie. “And now it’s starting to get a little spicy, so CIndy was thinking maybe you’d want in on the fun from a distance.”

Emma grinned. “Cindy’s a good thinker.”

Just then a whimper issued forth from the next mattress over.

“Uh—that wasn’t one of you, was it?” said Emma. “What’re you guys doing, watching porn?”

“Well—kinda.” said Cindy, and the three of them started giggling. From the side a snort of laughter erupted that could only have come from Hannah. “Nettie’s here with us, and she brought her girlfriend. They can’t keep their hands off each other.”

She turned the phone, tilting it down to display Hannah still lying atop Nettie, but now with their legs intertwined. It looked as if a little well-aimed friction was starting to take place. The two women twisted their heads around to look toward the camera.

“Nettie!” Emma exclaimed. “Oh, God, how are you?!”

***

A chime issued forth from a laptop speaker, and the girl on the bed reached over and tapped a key. The screen sprang to life, an image of a girl’s bedroom appearing. Centered in that image was a bed, the pink–on-white coverlet folded all the way to the foot. Lounging against a stack of pillows, willowy legs splayed out across a floral-patterned sheet, was a red-haired girl in her early teens. A wholesome image, perhaps—if the lovely redhead hadn’t been wearing a sheer, pale-yellow negligee that left almost nothing to the imagination.

A grin stretched across Halee’s face as she admired the view, but it wasn’t entirely a genuine one. Her guts were churning, and it was everything she could do to tamp down her anxiety. She had eschewed a top entirely, the budding nubs of her breasts on full display. So were the scars from her gunshot wounds a couple of months ago—and that was kind of the point. Thus far she hadn’t allowed Bethany to see her topless, because of those scars. It was one thing with Nettie, or with her sister Naomi, but right then she couldn’t bear to let anyone else see them, especially Bethany. She wanted to be perfect for Bethany.

Bethany understood her reluctance, and assured her that it was all right, and to take all the time she needed, but also told Halee she had nothing to worry about. After spending half the day debating this with herself, Halee decided it was time for the act of trust. Bethany deserved that much. Hence, all she had on below was a pair of back panties, sheer enough to be practically transparent, with gothic designs etched in relief on the waistband. She hoped that would be alluring enough to set off those hideous scars.

Bethany’s eyes widened as she leaned forward, peering intently at her laptop screen. Halee willed herself not to squirm under the girl’s scrutiny.

Slowly, Bethany’s mouth widened into a smile. “Look at you,” she murmured.

Halee rolled her eyes. “Look at me. I’m a pincushion for Edward Scissorhands.”

“Halee—you’re the most beautiful thing in the whole wide universe. Thanks for this.”

Halee glanced down at her midsection. “You don’t think it looks gross?”

Bethany shook her head vehemently, red hair flying. “I think you’re beautiful, and I think you’re brave. Those are both things that turn me on.”

The tightness in Halee’s belly loosened, just a little. She gave a small, hesitant smile. “That’s my mission in life, you know. Turning you on.”

“Your tits are getting me so hot, I wish I could reach out and grab them.”

Halee cupped the slight swell of her breasts. She didn’t think they were much to look at, but then, Bethany really wasn’t any more developed, and she thought her friend’s tits were gorgeous. She brought her thumbs up to circle the swollen tips.

She shivered deliciously. “My nipples are so hard for you,” she murmured.

On her laptop screen, Bethany was stroking her belly over the nearly translucent negligee. “Can I see up close?” she breathed.

***

Doing her best to ignore the heat rising from her aching cunt, now pressed firmly against Nettie’s thigh, Hannah turned her gaze to Cindy’s phone, eyebrows lifting in appreciation of what she saw. The women she’d spent the day with were all beautiful, but when Julie described Emma as “the prettiest of us all”, she hadn’t been kidding. The woman was an absolute knockout, straight brown hair framing features reminiscent of a China doll.

“I’m doing amazing right here at the moment, Emma,” Nettie murmured, indicating the woman atop her with an almost feral grin. “This is Hannah. Say hi, Hannah.”

Hannah waved at the phone. “Hello, Emma. I’ve been hearing these amazing stories about the Pussy Posse all day long! It’s nice to finally meet the fourth member.”

Nettie chose that moment to shift positions slightly, causing Hannah’s last two words to come out as a breathy gasp.

The corners of Emma’s mouth turned up. “Looks to me like you’re fitting right in,” she observed.

“Oh, that’s me—always the chameleon,” Hannah murmured, shuddering as Nettie’s thigh moved again, deliberately this time.

“Hey,” said Emma, “how come the camera is suddenly all over the place?”

Hannah shifted her gaze from Cindy’s phone—which was indeed now shifting about in an unsteady hand—to the woman attached to the arm that held it aloft. Cindy and Mallory were engaged in some light kissing, lips teasing, tongues darting out and then disappearing again. Julie was nuzzling Mallory’s neck, leaving kisses and little love bites in her wake.

Cindy disengaged, looking sheepish. “Hold on,” she said.

Extracting a lightweight tripod from beneath a sleeping bag, she mounted the phone to it, unfolded the legs, and zoomed to encompass the action taking place on both mattresses. The whole setup was so unbelievably hot that Hannah could no longer contain herself. She rocked her hips forward, grinding against Nettie’s leg. Nettie sucked in her breath through clenched teeth, thrusting her own pelvis in turn.

Julie was behind Mallory now, kissing across the back of her neck, gently tracing the curvature of her lover’s breasts beneath the sweatshirt. Mallory’s head was tilted forward chin to chest, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow.

“Nice view!” Emma exulted.

***

Bethany traced both index fingers up the insides of her thighs, shivering deliciously. Halee’s bare chest now dominated Bethany’s laptop screen, and she was teasing her nipples with the fingers of both hands. Shallow, unsteady breathing emerged from the laptop speakers. Bethany closed her eyes for a moment; the sounds of Halee’s arousal were even more intoxicating than the view.

But only for a moment. She stared raptly at the screen, intent on burning the image in her brain. Her gaze was drawn momentarily to the bullet wound immediately below the right breast, still recent enough that it was only now fading to a dull pink. Her heart cried out for Halee’s suffering, and how close she’d come to death. If things had gone just a little bit different, I’d never even have known what I missed.

But Halee had survived, clinging to life with her bare hands while Nettie and others worked feverishly to save her. This thought, and her own witnessing of the girl’s courageous efforts to put the horror behind her and move forward, kicked Bethany’s already considerable arousal up to the next level. As her fingers stopped just short of her now-gooey center, a small moan escaped her. It was all she could do to hold back.

“You like ‘em?” Halee breathed from the other end, bringing her chest even closer to the screen.

“You have no idea,” Bethany got out, a slight tremor to her voice. “But now I wanna see all of you again.”

“Copy that.” The image zoomed out, revealing Halee still sprawled on the bed, still stroking her tits with the hand that wasn’t operating the remote.

A smile touched the corner of Bethany’s lips. “That’s not all of you… there’s a certain something blocking my view.”

Lightly trailing her fingertips down her sides, Hales hooked both thumbs beneath the waistband of her panties. She slowly hitched one side down a little, then the other. Lifting her butt just enough to pull them free of her backside, she brought her knees up, baring herself one slow inch at a time.

“I can’t see all of you, either, girl,” Halee pointed out as the filigreed undergarment slid past her knees.

Pulling the drawstring that held the yellow negligee taut around her upper body, Bethany sat forward and allowed the sheer fabric to slide down her arms. Freeing her hands, she cupped her barely-formed breasts, thumbs delicately flicking her nipples.

“Mmmmm,” murmured Halee, “I never get tired of that view.” Flashing a wicked grin, she stuck her feet straight into the air, panties stretched wide between them then tucked both knees into her chest.

Bethany sucked in her breath at the unobstructed view of her long-distance lover’s cunt and anus. Halee’s slit was glistening with moisture. “Ooh, you are one seriously naughty girl,” she said.

Halee responded by slipping her panties the rest of the way off, casually tossing them toward the laptop screen. She spread her knees wide apart. “Now can you see everything?” she said in a husky voice.

Bethany took in a deep breath, allowing herself the fantasy that she was smelling Halee’s wet cunt instead of hers. “I can see how juicy you are,” she replied. “Wanna see how wet I am?”

“Oh, bring it on!” Halee exclaimed, her voice humming with excitement.

***

Emma Fronning took a sip of her wine cooler, shifting a little in her chair as she watched the scene unfold. She’d switched the Google Meet connection from phone to laptop, so she could see and be seen with both hands free. On her screen she watched that smoking-hot red-haired lady roll off of Nettie until the two women were lying side-by-side, scrabbling to remove their jeans. Once they were down to their underwear below the waist, Hannah climbed back aboard and began to move at once, sliding up and down Nettie’s stretched-out body, working up a delicious friction.

In the foreground, Cindy had returned to the little three-way circle after getting the tripod set up. She and Mallory were sharing a passionate kiss. Julie was behind Cindy, nuzzling the back of her neck as she’d done with Mallory moments ago, reaching around to dip her hands under the shirt, caressing the full, firm mounds beneath.

Emma felt the heat rise within her, surprised by its intensity. In more recent years she’d felt as if her lesbian tendencies were fading. When she dated at all, it was nearly always men. Not that she had much time for that these days. Between a demanding job designing large computer networks and a full-time classload in hopes of a shift from networking to software development, Emma was a busy lady. It struck her that she hadn’t had sex, straight or gay, in over a year.

But now, watching her erstwhile sisters with benefits getting it on in a dimly lit tent, and those two beautiful women humping in the background, her thirst for pussy was back with a vengeance. Her breath was becoming ragged, her nipples achingly stiff. She felt her panties dampening, and welcomed it. “Tell me how Cindy’s tits feel, Julie,” she heard herself say.

Julie’s eyes flicked to the phone mounted on its tripod, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Full, firm and luscious,” she said in a low, sexy voice. “And her nipples. They’re so goddamn hard! Like they’re going to poke holes right through her shirt. Here, let me give ‘em a little twist…”

Whatever Julie did caused Cindy to disengage her mouth from Mallory’s and moan, “Fuck!”

“Where do you think you’re going?” growled Mallory, placing a hand on the back of Cindy’s head and pulling her into another heated kiss.

Emma’s hands were under the fuzzy pajama top she wore, scissoring her own nipples between thumbs and forefingers. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this close to orgasm before her pussy had been touched.

Mallory and Cindy came up for air, Mal craning her head to peer at the phone. “Tell us about your tits, Em,” she said.

“I’ll do you one better,” said Emma, tugging the pajama top over her head and tossing it aside, exposing her small yet perfectly shaped breasts with their dark brown areolas for all to see. She was grinding her bottom into the chair, sending hard, sharp twinges of pleasure coursing through her body. Her panties were soaked straight through, and she’d have to change into a fresh pair of pajamas when this was over. Not that she gave a damn.

A glance at the laptop screen told Emma that all eyes were on her. Even Nettie and Hannah had craned their necks in her direction, although they hadn’t paused in their activities… in fact, they were moving in a frenzied fashion now, sweat glistening on their faces and gasps of pleasure escaping their lips.

With a lascivious smile, Emma stood up and shoved her pajama bottoms, underwear and all, to the floor, then kicked them across the room..

***

Halee played her fingers restlessly across her thighs as Bethany slowly opened her legs, revealing a dark wet spot on the front of her yellow panties. So sheer was the material that the moisture rendered it semi-translucent; the girl’s smooth-shaven labia and protruding clitoral hood enticingly visible.

“That is so damn hot,” murmured Halee.

“Does it make you wanna touch yourself?”

“It makes me want you to touch me.” Halee’s voice was now just barely above a whisper.

“Soon,” the redhead assured her. “So soon. But right now… your hand is my hand. I’m touching you in my mind, even if I can’t be there to touch you right now. And right now, I want you to use my hand to open your pussy for me.”

Halee let out a low moan as she spread her slippery labia wide, treating Bethany to an uninhibited view of her dripping hole. Every nerve ending was on fire, all her senses alive. “Oh, God,” she murmured.

Bethany waggled her fingers at the screen. “If this was your hand,” she murmured, “what would it do?”

“I’d feel you, right over the top of your panties.” Halee was stroking the outside of her labia, creating a light yet divine friction against her clit. Her voice came out shaky and high-pitched. “Cause I want to feel how wet you’re making them.”

Bethany’s hands crept down her belly, fingers spreading across the sodden fabric. She thrust her hips forward and gasped. “Oh! Oh God… so wet. Even more than I thought.”

“I want my hand to be dripping with your juices,” said Halee.

“You won’t believe how wet it’s getting! How wet is my hand?”

Halee held up her slippery fingers for inspection. “Gooey wet.”

Bethany was still stroking herself over the top of her panties, applying more pressure. The dark stain was spreading. Her hips were beginning to pump. “Oh, Halee… my fingers want to play with your clit so fucking bad…”

Halee slipped a finger between her folds, letting out a long, low moan as she found the hard nub of what proved to be a very engorged clitoris.

***

Nettie wished the phone was a little bit closer, or at least that someone had brought something with a bigger screen. She hadn’t seen Emma since they were practically still kids, and dear God had she ripened into a hottie! Emma was standing, her nude body on full display, kicking away a pair of pajama pants. Hannah was watching too, and moving atop Nettie even more frantically, breath huffing in her lover’s ear.

The pressure of Hannah’s thigh against her cunt was churning out ever-intensifying waves of pleasure. Nettie began to moan, no longer able to hold it in. The thought flitted through her mind that this was how she and Hannah had first brought each other to orgasm. Perhaps this would always be a special thing for them.

On the screen, Emma had seated herself again, legs splayed wide, the juicy labia and soft brown hair of her cunt on full display. The three women on the neighboring mattress also had their eyes glued to the phone screen. They were squished together in a tight row with Mallory in the middle, far enough to one end of the mattress that they didn’t block Nettie and Hannah’s view of the phone.

Cindy had an arm around Mallory’s waist, and although she couldn’t see it, Nettie was pretty sure her hand was down the front of the shorter woman’s pants. Mallory’s left hand was in Julie’s lap, and from the angle there was no ambiguity about what her hand was up to.

On the screen, Emma slipped a hand down between her legs, letting out a rapturous sigh as she eased a finger between the folds of that beautiful pussy. All at once a host of images, shockingly vivid, tore through Nettie’s mind. These same women in girlish bodies, naked or close to it, touching, kissing, driving one another to pleasure. And herself. A much younger, eleven-year-old Nettie, a part of that circle, being made love to, and making love in her turn.

For a moment she went numb, all sensation lost as the sudden rush of long-suppressed memory threatened to overwhelm her. Then Julie let out a low wail, and another detail from the distant past thrust itself upon her—that same cry escaping the lips of a younger version of Julie, in response to something Nettie had done with her fingers all those years ago. So vivid was the memory, she could actually feel the slickness of Julie’s pussy, the clitoris a hard little button beneath her fingers.

And that was all it took. Suddenly her own cunt was pulsating against Hannah’s thigh, her body tensing almost painfully as scream after scream was torn from her mouth. The raw intensity of her orgasm seemed to be infectious, because moments later Hannah was gripping her shoulders for dear life, letting out a single keening wail as her own climax came calling.

They both collapsed, sweaty and spent, clinging to one another. It took a few moments for Nettie to become aware they were being observed. Three heads had swiveled around to watch their final moment of passion, while on the phone screen Emma was leaning forward in her chair, fingers still mashed between her labia, her body rigid.

Nettie drew in a deep breath, shaken straight to the core. A swarm of heretofore suppressed remembrances were buzzing around in her head, all the more vivid now that her sexual fervor had passed. Her hands began to tremble, and she clenched them into tight fists. She most likely had a sleepless night ahead, but decided right then that nobody needed to know about it but her.

Managing to summon up a grin, Nettie put on her best air of nonchalance. “What’s the matter—haven’t any of you ever seen a couple of chicks come together?”

***

Bethany pressed down harder against the front of her sodden undies, shuddering and groaning at the sensation as her fingertips continued their slow circular motion. “Oh, God, Halee, this feels so fucking good. I love being touched through my panties.”

Halee was moving a finger up and down between her labia, her breath hitching. “I—I can’t wait—to touch—oh, holy fuck.”

The time for teasing was over. Bethany picked up the pace, her hips moving in short thrusts. “Oh, Halee,” she moaned, “you’re so beautiful, and this feels so damn good.”

“Does your hand want to fuck me?” Halee gasped. “Cos I really n-need to get fucked right about now—”

“My hand so wants to fuck you, you gorgeous, sexy—oh—oh my God—” The sensations emanating from Bethany’s center were escalating rapidly, and she knew her release was but moments away. On the laptop screen, Halee slid a finger into herself, then another. Her hand pumped furiously, gooshy wet sounds issuing from Bethany’s computer speaker. Halee continued to grind her clit with the other hand, going, “Uh, uh, uh, uh,” with every breath.

Just as she was about to teeter over the edge, Bethany shoved her panties aside, thrusting a single finger deep inside. “Halee, I’m—I’m coming!” she screamed, then went off like a volcano—hips pumping, head bobbing, crying out over and over as she rode wave after delicious wave.

“Oh, God,” she heard Halee moan. Her own climax subsiding, Bethany refocused her gaze on the laptop screen. Halee’s fucking hand was practically a blur, while the fingers of the other hand ground into her clit with an equal fury. “Oh, Bethany,” the dark-haired girl croaked. “Fuck, that was hot—oh God—oh fuck—”

And then Halee doubled over, hair falling down across her face as her own explosive climax kicked in. She shivered and shook, then finally went limp, slumping over to one side.

A long pause, then a grinning Bethany murmured, “Guess you came that time, huh?”

Halee gave a weak snort of laughter. “Oh, maybe…”

***

“Fuck yourself for us, Emma,” said Mallory, eyes fixed on the cell phone screen. Julie reflected with wry amusement that some things never changed. When it came to sexual situations involving more than two people, Mallory always seemed to take charge. And everyone involved always did what she said.

On her end of the connection, Emma drew in a long, deep breath as she ever so slowly slid two fingers inside herself. When her palm made contact with her clit, she whimpered.

Julie had a hand tucked into Cindy’s panties, fondling the policewoman’s prominent clitoris with fingers still wet from Cindy’s juicy cunt. Mallory, impatient with the denim barrier, had practically ripped Julie’s jeans from her body. Julie had a blanket thrown over her lap against the chill, and Mallory’s hand worked furiously beneath it. Julie was lightly biting the insides of her cheeks, trying to keep from moaning in time with the waves of pleasure. She wanted to hear every sweet gasp, sigh and moan issuing from the cellphone speaker.

Cindy, too, seemed to be holding back, her explosive gasps fetching up against pursed lips as she shivered with pleasure. Mallory had rebuffed Cindy’s attempts to slide a hand beneath the waistband of her panties, intent on being the last to come. After all, no one argued with Mallory in bed. But Julie could see out of the corner of her eye that her lover was rhythmically squeezing her thighs together, lips quivering. It was Mallory’s favored method of driving herself into an ecstatic frenzy. She couldn’t quite reach orgasm that way, but within seconds of someone touching her, she would go off like a hydrogen bomb.

Hannah and Nettie, their passion already spent, were snuggled up together, their attention laser-focused on the cellphone screen. Julie noticed an odd, distant look in her cousin’s eyes, but chalked it up to a post-orgasmic daze.

Emma was slowly sliding her fingers in and out, eyes rolling in a way that seemed almost comic. “Oh, God, I needed this,” she murmured.

“Has your clit b-been feeling lonely?” Mallory panted, her thighs still tightening and releasing.

“So lonely!” Emma gasped. “I haven’t—oh God—gone to bed with anyone—oh, holy hell—in like a year and half—OH!”

“Whoa—really?” Cindy’s jaw was hanging open.

“Really—oh Jesus.”

“Give that poor neglected clitoris some love, Emma,” Mallory commanded. “Rub it for us.”

Emma sent her right hand down her belly and over her vulva, behind the hand she was using to finger-fuck herself. And when Emma thrust her pelvis forward with a sharp cry, it was obvious where those fingers had gone.

Julie felt herself hurtling towards the peak, her nerve endings in overdrive as the stirrings in her groin intensified. “Oh!” she yelped, no longer able to hold it in. “Oh, oh, oh, OHHHHH!” An orgasm claimed her, pussy spasming wildly, the finger she was using to stimulate Cindy’s clit doubling in speed almost of its own accord.

Julie maintained that pace as her orgasm subsided, aware that all eyes had shifted in her direction. Cindy was starting to lose control as well, soft cries escaping barely parted lips as she laid her head on Julie’s shoulder. Julie buried her face in Cindy’s hair, nuzzling softly as she reached for Mallory’s hand. She laced her fingers with those of her partner, reveling in the slick juices that coated them.

Cindy screamed, then screamed again. She pressed her thighs together, trapping Julie’s hand between them. She let out one more howl, then subsided. Recognizing the moment, Julie removed her hand, using the arm to pull Cindy even more tightly to her.

“God, that was b-beautiful,” said Emma, her voice crackling from the speaker, and everyone turned their attention to the screen. Both Emma’s hands were moving with wild abandon. Her breath came in short, harsh gasps. “I’m g-gonna come, guys,” she grunted. Uh—oh God, I’m gonna come. I’m coming—”

Her jaw clenched tightly, Emma twisted her head to one side, then the other, hair flying, breath hissing through gritted teeth. Finally she was still, lounging in her chair, her lips widening into a beatific smile.

Suddenly aware of shuddering breaths to her left, Julie turned to her partner. Mallory’s eyes were unfocused, her forehead sweat-shiny. She was still squeezing her thighs together—flex, release, flex, release.

A smile touched the corner of Julie’s lips. “Need anything, Mal?”

“Yeah. I—I need someone to stick their head under th-this blanket and lick me. I don’t care who.”

“Pick me, pick me!” Cindy was bobbing her head, doing a credible imitation of Donkey from the first Shrek film. Not waiting for an invitation, she lifted the edge of the blanket and disappeared under it head first. Mallory lay back, folding both hands behind her head, a satisfied smirk on her lips.

Moments later, Cindy’s hand and arm appeared, holding Mallory’s panties aloft. “Wettest undies ever!” her muffled voice proclaimed. Julie snatched the sodden undergarment and pressed it to her face, breathing in deeply. Tossing it aside, she nestled in beside her partner and began nuzzling her cheek.

The bulge of Cindy’s head appeared where the fork of Mallory’s thighs would be, and Mal began to moan. “Oh. Oh, oh oh. OH!” Julie was now nibbling her ear, which never failed to drive Mallory wild.

It didn’t take long; Mallory had clearly pushed herself right to the edge. She was screaming, thrashing, shuddering violently. Then her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she went utterly still.

***

“The ambulance director thing will be good for Dad,” Halee was saying. “I think he’s struggling to get any writing done. He hasn’t said anything, but he’s in and out of his office like a human jack-in-the-box—he doesn’t sit and write for hours like he used to. And I know he hasn’t had anything published in a long-ass time. I think he needs something to keep him busy that doesn’t involve words on paper.”

“I hope it helps him,” said Bethany. “Your dad seems like a good guy.” The two thirteen-year-old girls, lazy in the wake of spent passion, were lounging on their beds, catching each other up on the events of the past few days as they gazed at each other on their laptop screens.

“I can’t wait for you to be here,” said Halee. “It seems like such a long time.”

“But you know it’s not,” said Bethany. “I’m excited too, but it’s only a few more weeks. Still, I can’t wait for you to show me around.”

“I know Johnstown pretty well,” said Halee. “We could make a day of it, walk all over. I’ll show you everything.”

“Halee—” Bethany’s voice was hesitant, uncertain.

“What’s up?”

“When I get there, do you want to try, ummm—”

“Sounds dangerous, whatever it is,” said Halee, a wicked grin forming.

Bethany colored slightly, then plowed forward. “Maybe it is. I was wondering if you wanted to—to try being girlfriends. You know, like, official and all.”

Halee’s eyes widened. “Are you serious right now?”

“Well—uh—yeah. But if you don’t want to, I mean—maybe I shouldn’t have asked yet. I’m sorry, I—”

Halee shook her head. “No, Bethany! I love it. But why wait till you get here?” She gave her friend a smile that spoke volumes. “How about starting right now?”

***

“It’s just little death,” said Nettie, soothing a nervous Hannah by smoothing her hair. Mallory was coming around now, her head on Julie’s lap, a sleepy smile on her lips. “That’s what the French call the orgasm, y’know—la petite mort. Scared the crap out of me the first time I saw it happen, but it’s kind of Mal’s thing.”

Hannah gave her an amused grin. “And how exactly do you know that?”

Nettie kept her expression neutral with an effort; until ten minutes ago she hadn’t known that. This flood of revived memories blanketed her mind like a shroud. Afternoons at the park with the Pussy Posse. Hours spent listening to records in Jamie Nelson’s attic bedroom. And other things—things that involved a lot less clothing. How was she supposed to process it all?

She was struggling to form a reply when Julie came to the rescue. “Oh, this girl spent a little time with the Posse! She knows things.”

Hannah chuckled. “I am so jealous.”

“We had some good times,” said Emma, drawing all eyes back to the phone screen. She was still lounging in her chair, still deliciously nude. “Speaking of which: Cindy, are you on for August?”

“You bet!” said Cindy. “My PTO request went through. Now that I have my bachelor’s in criminal justice, I think they’re scared I’ll go looking for other jobs.”

“Yeah, congrats on that, by the way,” said Emma. “I so can’t wait for August! But right now I’d better sign off. I have to be on a conference call about this dumb damn network first thing in the morning.”

“Well, thanks for hanging,” said Cindy with a giggle.

“Yeah, that was awesome,” Julie chimed in.

“Love you, hon. We’ll be seeing you soon,” Mallory added.

“Nettie,” said Emma. “It was so great seeing you again. And nice to meet you, Hannah!”

“Likewise,” said Hannah. “Hope we can do it in person sometime.”

“Yeah, good to see you, Em,” said Nettie.

Emma’s image disappeared from the screen. Nettie let her head collapse onto the pillow, turning towards the wall of the tent so no one could see the tears gathering in her eyes. She felt Hannah’s arm wrap around her from behind, a warm body pressing in close.

“Hey,” Hannah’s voice was right in her ear, the barest of whispers. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Nettie murmured back, willing her voice to remain steady. “Just tired.”

***

It feels colder than it really is, Heather Dulcey reminds herself. A longstanding creature of the outdoors, she’s well aware that your body loses its tolerance after awhile. She feels like she’s freezing to death, but judges that the actual temperature isn’t cold enough to kill her, at least not wrapped up in this shitty blanket and sharing body heat with her sister. Just cold enough to make her almost wish she was dead.

Gina seems able to sleep right through it, but Heather isn’t so lucky. The frigid air is redolent of pee, that lovely smell emanating from the far corner of the shed, where the girls have been relieving themselves. The shed itself is dark, ominous, the moonlight casting weird patterns of light between cracks in the siding.

Heather’s body aches from lying in the same position on the cracked concrete floor for too long. She’s considered getting up and walking around the shed, stretching her legs and reviving her circulation, but holds herself in place with a discipline she didn’t know she had. Gina is smaller than her, and will have less resistance to the nighttime temperatures. Is it cold enough to be dangerous to a small girl alone under an inadequate blanket? Heather doesn’t know.

And so she remains in place, enduring the cold and the pain, snuggling her sister spoon-style from behind, sharing her warmth.

On to Chapter Six!

(Previously in Parts One and Two: Valerie’s elaborate plans to celebrate her daughter Didi’s twelfth birthday are undone when the power of their home goes out. To pass the time, Valerie proposes a game of Truth or Dare, declaring a No Mad Zone so Didi can be completely frank with her. Perhaps inevitably, the talk soon takes a sexual turn as mother and daughter share some very intimate secrets. One of these is Valerie admitting that she first learned about sex from a female piano teacher at the age of eleven or twelve.

At the same time, the dares become more… daring. Didi dares Mom to teach her how to kiss, Valerie dares Didi to get naked with her, and finally Didi asks her mom to, “show me what you did with your piano teacher.” Valerie is hesitant, but ultimately wants this as much as Didi, so mother and daughter end up making love.)

by Louisa May

Morning.

Apparently, the power had come back on while Valerie and Didi were asleep. By dawn, it was actually chilly, and Valerie awakened with a start. Didi lay curled into her, still gloriously naked. She felt the girl’s soft, even breath caress her breast.

And that was when it all came flooding back. Everything she and her daughter had done. The beer, the blackout, the games, the kisses, the undressing, their shared truths, their exploration, Didi’s ecstasy… My goodness, Valerie thought.

Didi’s hair ties had come unraveled, so Valerie carefully undid the girl’s pigtails, then carefully rose from the bed to retrieve a comforter from her closet. Gazing down at her sleeping beauty, she toyed with the notion of kissing Didi’s cute little bottom, but thought better of it, touching her lips to the child’s forehead instead. She gently covered Didi with the comforter, then padded into the bathroom to take a shower.

An hour or so later, she was mixing pancake batter in the kitchen when she heard her daughter’s voice from the bedroom. “Mom?” There was the patter of bare feet, then, louder: “Mom?”

“I’m in the kitchen, honey!”

The sound of feet came closer, then Didi, still nude, appeared in the kitchen doorway clutching herself, both arms folded over her chest. She was shivering, perhaps not fully awake, and her loose red hair stood out in a wild, sleepy muss.

Valerie put down the mixing spoon. “Oh, honey–”

“I – I didn’t know where you were!” Didi cried. “At first I didn’t know where I was, then you weren’t there, and I thought maybe you were mad at me.” She was starting to tear up. “So then I thought, maybe you went to sleep in my room, but you weren’t there, and, and–”

Valerie extended her arms. “Oh, baby, come here, come here.”

Didi raced into her mother’s embrace, sniffling. “Shh, shhhh…” Valerie soothed, stroking her daughter’s hair, brushing it away from her face, and then giving her back and bum a vigorous rub. “You’re still half asleep, pretty butt.”

Didi giggled into her chest, then gave a muffled response. “You called me ‘pretty butt’.”

Valerie kissed the top of her child’s head. “Cause that’s what you are.” Drawing back a bit, she peered into Didi’s blinking green eyes, then placed a light kiss on the girl’s lips before reaching up to stroke her slightly flushed cheek. “What a birthday night, huh? A whole lot of new, new stuff.”

Didi gazed solemnly at her mother. “Mom?”

“Hmm?”

She hesitated for a moment, then said, “It was the weirdest, bestest birthday ever… oh my gosh, it was the best day ever!”

Valerie wrapped both arms around Didi, giving the girl a loving squeeze. “I’m glad, honey,” she murmured into her daughter’s ear. “For me, too. So, so wonderful…”

Didi cupped her mother’s face in both hands. “So… can we do it some more?”

“Oh, honey,” Valerie purred, flashing her daughter a grin as she placed her hands on Didi’s. “Of course we can.” She gave a giddy laugh. “I want to, so much, I just didn’t know if…” She kissed her daughter’s mouth, allowing it to linger. “Do you really want that, Didi?” Her beautiful brown eyes glistened, glowing with love. “Do you want to, to play like we did last night, be naked together, and explore each other?”

Didi was already nodding vigorously. “Yes. Yes, Mom. I do.”

Valerie took a deep, steadying breath. “Good. Good!” She stroked Didi’s sides, her fingertips gliding over the twelve-year-old’s bare skin. “But first, we’ve got to get rid of these goosebumps of yours, pretty butt!” Patting Didi’s bottom, she added, “Go put on some clothes, then come back here for breakfast!” She kissed her daughter again. “Go!”

Naked Didi bounded out through the kitchen door. Then she poked her head back in. “You called me pretty butt again!” Then a cute young girl’s bottom appeared in the open doorway, did a quick twerk, and vanished.

Valerie laughed. “Nice! And put on underpants, Didi!” she called after her daughter.

Ten minutes later, Didi made an entrance, jumping through the doorway into the kitchen. “Ta-daa!”

It was a sight that turned Valerie to warm jelly inside. Her daughter had chosen to go all-out Starfire. She’d dressed in Starfire polar fleece leggings, topped by a sweatshirt bearing the cartoon character’s image. And Didi’s favorite Starfire socks, of course. She’d taken the trouble to brush her hair, which now spilled onto her shoulders.

Gorgeous, Valerie mused. She’s my Starfire. My sweet, freckle-faced Starfire…

“Breakfast is served, my lady,” she murmured as Didi took her seat at the dining table. Valerie set a full plate before the girl: a stack of pancakes with all the trimmings – syrup, butter and a dollop of whipped cream, accompanied by a tall glass of cold milk.

“Pancakes! Yum!” Snatching up her fork, Didi was definitely awake now — and hungry. Valerie had to smile as she watched her daughter tuck in voraciously, like…

Like someone who’s just had a long, hot night of sex with her mother, she told herself.

Once she’d wolfed down a half dozen bites, Didi tried to speak, her mouth still full of pancake. “Mom? Wha’ ovver stoff–?”

Valerie frowned. “Hmm, wonder why I can’t understand what you’re saying? That is so weird…”

Didi struggled to swallow, then took a swig of milk. She swallowed again, then wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “I said: what other stuff did you do with your piano teacher?”

“Miss Arlene. Use your napkin, honey.”

“Miss Arlene,” Didi repeated, laying down her fork.

“Well,” Valerie began, picking up her daughter’s plate, “if you remember, that dare of yours,” and she gave Didi a knowing smile, “the dare that started all this, thank God… it was to show you what we did. Me and Miss Arlene Rochelle, when she and I were… close.” She gave the plate a quick rinse, deftly slipped it into the dishwasher, then turned and leaned against it. “So, if you want to know what else we did, that means…” She fell silent, waiting for her daughter to complete the thought.

“Then that means… you have to, to show me.” Didi bit her lip as a wonderful whoosh raced through her.

Valerie’s lips parted slightly. She felt her face, her chest go hot, accompanied by a deepening down below; a luscious fullness. Oh, my…

Mother and daughter stared at each other for a long while, mulling over what had just been said… and what it meant.

Finally, Valerie broke the silence. “That’s right.” A slight tremor in her voice. “Would you like me to…?”

Didi swallowed, then nodded.

“Are you ready to do what I tell you, my love?”

Didi’s mouth opened. This was new… and surprising. A little scary, too, but not enough to keep her from wanting more of it. “Yes,” she whispered.

Valerie took a deep breath. “Good. So the first thing I need you to do is stand up.”

Didi obeyed without a murmur. She stood there, looking so small and childlike in her sweatshirt and leggings. And those adorable socks. Her fiery red hair still stood up a bit. So cute…

“Okay, now take off your leggings.” Didi’s eyes widened, but she dutifully tucked her thumbs in and pulled the stretchy tights down and over her socks. Tugging them free, she balled up the leggings and tossed them onto the other chair.

Valerie had to smile. “Well, look at you… actually wearing underpants!”

Her cheeks slightly flushed, Didi mumbled, “Well, you did tell me to…”

“True,” Valerie said, approaching her daughter, “but I didn’t know if you heard me.” She tilted her head. “I would tell you to take off your top, too… but I don’t want you to get cold.”

“I can — I’ll take it off if you want me to. I won’t get cold.” Her green eyes were wide open. “If you tell me to, Mommy… I’ll take off my top. I will!”

Valerie nodded. “Off, then.” And her daughter immediately pulled the sweatshirt over her head, mussing her hair even more, and threw it on the chair with her leggings. Now she stood before her mother in just her pale purple panties, adorned on the front with Starfire, who was poised for action.

“Well done. Miss Arlene would be so pleased by how well you take direction.” Drawing closer, she scooped her daughter up with both arms. “Upsy-daisy!” she exclaimed, depositing Didi on the kitchen table. Standing before her daughter, Valerie slid both hands along Didi’s pale pink thighs. “Okay, then. How are we doing so far… still good?”

Didi nodded, aglow with anticipation. “Now what?”

“Ah, yes. Now what?” Reaching back for the chair, Valerie pulled it in and sat before her daughter. “Scoot up to the edge, baby.” Didi did. “Now bring your knees up, and put both feet flat on the table… but push them as far apart as you can.”

Her daughter did this, too, now intensely aware that her mother’s face was inches from her panty-clad missy.

Valerie had to smile as she took in the sight of her little girl’s barely-concealed slit, its contour clearly visible through those colorful panties. And there was Starfire, right on the front, gazing at her. Defiant. Ready for action. “Well, hi there, Starfire,” she said.

Didi could feel the gentle warmth of her mom’s breath when she spoke, tickling her inner thighs. She took a shaky breath, and in a small voice, replied, “Um, Starfire says ‘hi’ back.”

Valerie looked up at her daughter. Such soft, open-mouthed trust. “Can I give Starfire a kiss, do you think?”

A short intake of breath. “Yes. She would like that.”

Valerie focused again on the huge green eyes, round face and red hair of her daughter’s favorite avatar. The outline of Didi’s vulva gave Starfire’s face an active dimension, as if she was on the verge of saying something. Leaning in closer, Valerie said, “I’m gonna just… breathe on her first; let her know I’m here.” She parted her lips, covered the cartoon face with an open mouth, then breathed out.

“Ooooh…” Didi cooed, glancing up to gaze into her mom’s dark, affectionate eyes.

“How does that feel, hon?”

Didi giggled. “Like… like you were making steam in my missy.” An image of a window, of drawing pictures on the foggy glass.

“You’re a big girl now, Didi,” Valerie said, sitting back in the chair. “It’s time you used big girl words.” She placed a gentle kiss on the rise of her daughter’s mound. “Now,” she murmured. “Tell me where I’m kissing you.”

“My… my missy?”

Valerie kissed her there again, a little more insistently this time. Didi responded with a whimper, spreading her thighs even wider. “This,” another kiss, “is your pussy.” Three more kisses, each one pressing more firmly against the front of Didi’s panties. Valerie looked up. “Now you say it.”

Didi’s mouth was hanging open. She let out a little squeak, then said, “My pussy. It’s my… my pussy!”

“Good.” Now Valerie had a hand between her own legs. Once more, she pressed her lips to her daughter’s now-damp panty crotch and moved them very slightly, feeling the doughy softness beneath the material, then raised her head. “I think it’s time for Starfire’s beauty rest.” Reaching beneath the trembling girl, she grasped the waistband of Didi’s underpants. “Ready?”

Didi nodded. “Ready,” she whispered.

Valerie pulled her daughter’s panties down, Didi lifting her bottom to assist. As they came away from Didi’s stocking feet, Valerie reverently smoothed them out, placing them on the nearby chair.

Didi resumed her seated, spread position atop the table, now nude but for her Starfire socks.

“I knew Starfire would get in on this somehow,” Valerie murmured, smiling as she gazed at her daughter’s open vulva. She inhaled, basking in its scent: fresh, meaty… pungent. A glistening fold of Didi’s inner labia seemed to beckon her closer.

“Ohh, such a beautiful butterfly,” Valerie said. “And now… it’s time for my breakfast.”

Propped up on both elbows, Didi watched, fascinated, as her mother laid warm hands on her inner thighs, then leaned in to take a long slow lick along the opening of her missy… She corrected herself: My pussy.

It felt so tender and loving, so… so Mom. “Mmmm,” Didi purred, spreading her thighs even more.

Valerie was in heaven. Didi’s taste was lovely — salty, sweaty, perhaps a hint of pee, along with a mixture of the spicy, savory oil of her being, her very insides. Valerie slid her long, thick tongue up and around, sinking into the groove of her daughter’s sex, then sucking on those budding pussy lips.

Didi threw her head back, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. “Ohh, Mommy… mmmnn.”

Now Valerie pursed her lips around the child’s hooded clit, nursing on the immature little bud as if it was a nipple. Didi thrust her hips forward, grinding against her mother’s devouring mouth as she began to keen, to moan, “M-M-mommmyy… ohhHH yeah, Mommy… OHHhhh!” Didi seized her mother’s head, fingers twining into Valerie’s hair, and held on for dear life. “OhhhhHHHHH!”

What an incredible sight it was! Even as she continued to pleasure her little girl, Valerie tried to drink in the experience, to engrave it in her consciousness: the scent of Didi’s flower, the tart, luscious taste, the ecstatic cries, even the warmth of the girl’s inner thighs against her cheeks. But most of all, the blissful, even rapturous expression of Didi’s face as Mommy gave her daughter the most wonderful feelings ever.

The child’s cry rose to a wail, her voice quivering, eyes wide in astonishment. Her body tightened, then she went limp, her head hitting the table with a dull thud – not too hard, thankfully. Valerie could still feel tiny aftershocks ripple through her daughter’s thighs as she lightly nuzzled the smooth slit, finally adorning it with one last kiss before raising her head.

There was Didi, dreamy-eyed and quivering, her bright red hair mussed, cheeks flushed a rosy pink. So beautiful, Valerie told herself. She’s never been lovelier.

Hugging herself, she gazed down at her daughter until the girl’s eyes fluttered open. Didi clumsily pushed her way up into a sitting position. “Whoa,” she whispered. “That was sooooo… oh, I don’t even know!”

Valerie lightly touched Didi’s knee. “You came, honey. Was it good?”

Didi furrowed her brow. “I… came?”

“Oh, did I not mention that? Well, when you come, it means you had an orgasm. Know what that means?”

“Um… well, it’s part of having sex, right? That’s all I know, I think.”

“Spot on,” Valerie replied with a nod. “See, there are different reasons for having sex. I won’t run through them all, but mostly people do it to get a certain incredible, amazing feeling. That’s an orgasm. Sound familiar…?”

“Oh, wow… that’s what happens when you do sex? Oh, it was good, Mom,” Didi breathed, wide-eyed and awed, shaking her head in disbelief. “The best. Totally the best!” She extended her arms to Valerie. “Can we go back up to bed now? Will you carry me, like last night? And, and can you take your robe off, so we can both be naked?”

“Hmmm…” said Valerie, hands on hips. “So many requests!” Drawing close, she enfolded her daughter in a loving embrace. “And I say ‘yes’ to them all.”

“Yay!” Didi exclaimed.

Valerie slipped an arm beneath her daughter’s thighs, lifting Didi from the table, then advanced to the stairs. “Ooof. You’re heavy, girl!”

“Mom! That’s so not true!” Didi protested with a mock scowl, then giggled. Tilting her head back, she gazed up at Valerie. “I love you…”

“I love you too, baby girl.” By then, they’d reached the top of the stairs, A few steps to the right took them into Valerie’s bedroom. “And here… we… are!” Moving to the foot of the unmade bed, Valerie tossed the nude girl onto the rumpled sheets.

“Whee!” Didi cried, bouncing herself up and down a few times. Then she settled in, hands behind her head, legs casually parted. “C’mon, Mom… snuggle with me. But first, lose that robe!”

“Well, I did promise, so…” Taking her time undoing the tie, Valerie slowly opened her bathrobe, then she shrugged it off to stand nude before her daughter.

Didi stared openly at her naked mother. “Hey, Mom? If I didn’t say anything last night about how beautiful you are with no clothes on, well…you are. So beautiful.”

Pursing her lips in concentration, Valerie paused for a moment. “Hmmm. I think you did, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it once more. Maybe three or four times?”

She was joking, but Didi seemed to take the request seriously. Sitting up, tilting her head slightly, she said, “Mom, you’re the most beautiful, sweetest, sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my whole life, and…” Suddenly gone shy, Didi looked down at her feet. “And I really, really want you to kiss me.”

A rush of warmth surged through Valerie, leaving her lightheaded. Climbing onto the bed, she stretched out next to her daughter. “Come here, pretty girl.”

Sighing contentedly, Didi nestled into her mother’s arms. Valerie cupped the girl’s face in both hands, then graced her lips with a feather-light kiss.

Didi was quick to respond, returning her mom’s affection with a fervor that had Valerie’s lust soaring all over again, especially when the girl’s tongue darted into her mouth.

Refusing to break the kiss, Valerie rolled Didi onto her back, gently mounting her daughter. Didi responded with an impassioned moan, twining both legs around her mother.

Valerie felt the heat of Didi’s slit, pressing just below her belly. It was intensely erotic, as if the girl was kissing her twice, above and below. She might have smiled at the thought, but her mouth was busy with Didi’s, their tongues still playfully sparring. My God, she’s good at this. And only twelve… 

Suddenly Didi broke away. “Your lips taste different, Mom. Wait. Is that…?”

“It is, yes. That’s the flavor of pussy… your pussy. Nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” Didi sighed. “Makes me think of something, but I can’t remember what.” She fell silent for a few heartbeats, then said, “Um, Mom…?”

Valerie waited for more, but her daughter was silent. “What is it, hon?”

Now Didi was blushing. “Will you let me… um, can I lick you that way? Down there?”

Furrowing her brow, Valerie pretended to concentrate. “Hmmm… down there. Not sure what you’re asking me, kiddo. You want to lick… my feet?”

“Eww! No!” Didi exclaimed in protest, but she was laughing. “C’mon, Mom. You know what I mean!”

Valerie drew closer, until their noses were almost touching, then abruptly rolled onto her back, carrying her giggling daughter along for the ride. Now Didi lay between her mother’s spread legs. “Yes, I do know,” Valerie said, her tone low and sultry. “But you need to ask the right way, Didi. You’re a woman now. If you really want to make love to me, say it like a grownup would.”

Didi’s eyes widened. “Is that what we’re doing? We – we’re making love?”

“Yes, we are,” Valerie murmured. “It’s probably not something many moms do with their daughters, but… well, I wanted to be with you that way, and I’m glad it happened. How does that make you feel?”

“Good,” Didi replied. “Really good. Wow, it’s like I’m your girlfriend, huh?”

“I guess you are. But,” Valerie continued, raising a finger, “don’t forget – I’m still your mom, kiddo. So when I tell you to tidy up your room, get cracking on your homework, or to wear underpants under your clothes… well, I want to see a spotless bedroom, finished homework, and a pair of panties covering this pretty butt.” She gave her daughter’s bottom a playful squeeze.

“Deal!” Didi exclaimed. “Know what? I like having a mom who’s my girlfriend. We, um, make love, then you bake a bunch of chocolate chip cookies. How awesome is that?”

“Pretty awesome.” Valerie placed a kiss on the tip of the twelve-year-old’s nose. “So, now that you and I have cemented our status as girlfriends, I believe there was some talk about you wanting to do something to me… ‘down there’?”

“Oh, yeah.” Mulling it over for a moment, Didi came out with, “Mom? I’d really, really, really like to, um, lick your pussy.” By the time she’d got all the words out, her cheeks were flushed a perfectly adorable hue of pink.

Valerie was quivering inside. My God, I am so utterly, completely in love with her. Lightly stroking Didi’s face, she whispered, “Oh, my beautiful, sweet, sexy little girl… there’s nothing in the world I’d like better.”

“Cool!” Didi scrambled onto her knees, then paused. “Mom?” she said, suddenly bashful. “Um… can we kiss some more first?”

“Of course we can, angel,” Valerie declared, reaching out for the girl, drawing her close. She paused to lose herself in those emerald eyes all over again, then their lips brushed together.

They began to make a game of it – sharing quick, feather-light kisses, occasionally giggling at how they tickled. Then they gradually allowed each kiss to linger, their mood changing from giddy to deeply sensual. Didi was first to bring her tongue into play… then as if a switch had been clicked, mother and daughter were grinding their bare bodies together in a heated tangle.

Didi was riding her mom, panting like a sprinter between kisses as she rubbed her bare slit on Valerie’s thigh. “Oh, Mom, oh my gosh, I – I think it’s, oooooohhh, h-happening again…?”

“Let it happen,” Valerie whispered into her child’s mouth. “Come for me.”

It took Didi a minute or so to squirm her way to orgasm, biting her lower lip in concentration as she pumped and thrust against her mother’s body. Valerie did what she could to pleasure the mewling girl – nuzzled her neck, nibbled her ear, fondled that adorable little bottom. But finally Didi lay spent, cozily nestled in Mom’s silken arms, feeling her heartbeat gradually return to normal.

Then she abruptly sat up, her pretty mouth set in a frown. “No fair!” she exclaimed.

Opening one eye, then both, Valerie gave Didi a quizzical glance. “What’s not fair?”

“Well… it was my turn to give you the good feeling!”

Valerie had to laugh. “Well, I’m ready when you are, kiddo,” she murmured, reaching up to stroke her daughter’s flushed cheek. “You have such a sweet mouth… I’d love to feel it on my pussy.”

Thoughtfully studying her mom’s sex, Didi nodded. “So… I can do it now?”

“Any time, my love.” Valerie slowly parted her thighs, waiting.

Didi carefully arranged herself, lying prone before Valerie as if in worship. She reached out, allowing a finger to graze the rosy flesh of mother’s cunt. “So pretty,” she whispered. Inhaling deeply, she added, “It smells nice, too. Sort of…” The girl shrugged. “I don’t know what, but I like it.” She gently traced the slit, then drew in to kiss it.

“Oh,” Valerie moaned, then gasped when her daughter took a hesitant lick.

“Um… is that okay?” asked Didi, raising her head.

Valerie could feel herself vibrating from head to toe, like a plucked bass string. “Perfect… except the part where you stopped. Less talking, more licking!”

“Oops! Sorry!” Didi exclaimed, then got to work. She bathes her mother’s vaginal opening four or five times with long swipes of the tongue, then paused for a few heartbeats to savor the rich, earthy taste. “Just so you know, Mom, I decided your pussy is totally yummy,” Didi announced, then returned for more.

A few more licks, then Didi covered Valerie’s juicy vulva with her mouth, going down on her mother with the same ardor she’d shown when they were swapping real kisses just moments earlier. Bringing her tongue into play, she quickly realized how easy it was to go inside Mom’s pussy, so she did that for a while, thrusting in and out, in and out.

“Yes, baby girl!” Valerie blurted. “Oh, m-my God, yes… fuck me with your tongue!”

A delicious shiver raced through Didi as she took in the significance of her mother’s words. Wow, yeah, that’s what I’m doing… I’m fucking Mom!

She was already thrilled, but this revelation had Didi on fire with excitement, thinking of herself as a real, honest-to-goodness woman for the first time in her twelve years. Fucking. I’ve never even said that word out loud, and now I’m doing it – with Mom! So, SO cool!

At that point, Didi was laser-focused on one thing and one thing only: giving her mother those same amazing sensations she’d already enjoyed. Her mouth was everywhere as she feasted on Valerie’s cunt, the lower half of her face dripping with its thick, luscious honey.

Noticing the tiny erection of her mom’s clitoris, Didi gave it a swipe of the tongue.

“Ohhh,” Valerie moaned, her body seizing up. “Yes, my love, yes!”

Didi was quick to respond. She took the inflamed nubbin between her lips to suckle, instinctively flicking it with the tip of her tongue.

A choked cry broke from Valerie’s throat as a massive orgasm claimed her. She began to buck and twitch, her jaw clenched tightly, eyes squeezed shut. She’d never come this hard, never. Blue-hot shockwaves of ecstasy tore through her frame, each one shaking her body like a rag doll.

OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod

Hanging on for dear life, Didi continued to pleasure her mother as best she could, her lips still fastened to Valerie’s clit, thinking, Oh, wow… I really can do this!

An inspired notion occurred to Didi, and she went with it. Placing a hand on her mom’s vulva, she began to rub the warm, wet flesh. Her fingers found Valerie’s opening, and it was the simplest thing in the world to slip two of them inside.

A heartbeat later, Valerie went bone-rigid for a small, blissful eternity as her ecstasy reached its unimaginable peak. Then she went limp, a held breath rushing from her lungs as she sank into the sodden bedclothes. But Didi was still at it, still making love to her beautiful mommy.

Didi raised her head. The child’s eyes were dancing with glee, her mouth and chin smeared with Valerie’s nectar. “Was that good?” she asked. “Did you… did you come?”

Spreading her arms, Valerie said, “I absolutely did. You were magnificent, Didi. C’mere, give me a kiss. I want to taste my pussy on your lips–”

But Didi was already on the move, crawling into her mom’s embrace, cutting her words off with a kiss that quickly grew heated.

Yet again, Val felt a rush of warmth, brought on by the boundless, all-encompassing love she felt for her little girl. Not so little anymore, she reminded herself. She’s a woman now.

Their mouths finally drifted apart, and Didi rested her head on Valerie’s breast. “Thank you, Mom,” she murmured. “This has been the greatest birthday ever. In the… the whole history of birthdays, the best!” Then she raised her head. “So… I get to keep doing this with you, right? ‘Cause we’re girlfriends, you said so!”

“Yes, angel,” Valerie replied, stroking Didi’s back. “We are girlfriends…and yes, we most definitely will keep making love. I couldn’t give this up, even if I wanted to.”

“Good. I don’t want to stop, either. Not now, not ever!”

“There is one thing we need to discuss, and it’s about us being girlfriends. We have to keep it a secret. From everyone. You do understand that, don’t you?” Didi gave a solemn nod. “Okay… but do you know why?”

“It’s ’cause moms aren’t s’posed to do sex stuff with their kids,” Didi replied. “And you’d get in big trouble if someone found out. But I won’t tell anyone, Mom. Cross my heart!” She drew a large, invisible X on her chest with an index finger.

Valerie hugged her child close. “That’s good enough for me, pretty butt,” she said, giving Didi’s bottom a playful pat, then allowed her hand to linger.

“I like when you call me that!” the girl exclaimed. “‘Specially if you’re playing with my butt when you say it.”

“Oh, I’ll be doing plenty more of that, have no fear,” Valerie replied. She stretched, yawned, glanced at the clock. “Good grief — the morning’s already gone! Time to get up and face the day, daughter mine.”

Didi frowned. “Aw, Mom… can’t we lay here and snuggle some more? You feel so warm and nice…” She placed a feather-light kiss on her mother’s chin.

“Don’t try to sway me with kisses, you little imp!” Valerie exclaimed, tickling her daughter’s ribcage with a straying finger.

“Mom, stop!” Didi squealed, seizing her mother’s wrist. “We don’t have to g-get up, do we?”

Valerie pretended to think. “Well, there are the dishes from breakfast… and I do need to get started on the laundry…”

“Nooooo!” Didi cried. “Not right now, you don’t!” She clasped Valerie’s hand in hers. “I’ll help you with the stupid laundry, Mom. Just… just be with me a little longer.”

“Well… okay. I suppose snuggling with you is nicer than folding socks…”

“Way nicer!” declared Didi. “‘Specially when we’re not wearing anything.” She grinned. “Bare naked — that’s what I like!”

“Hmm… I must say, it’s hard to fault that logic,” Valerie said. “It’s settled, then. I’ll stay here with you all day, if you like.”

“I do like!” Didi enthused. Then her expression turned serious. “Mom?”

“What, my love?”

“I just wanted to say… these new things we’re doing, that you’re teaching me… I love it. All of it. I, um, thought you might need to hear me say that, okay?” She hugged Valerie fiercely.

Gazing into those bright green eyes, Valerie shook her head in awe. “How did my kid get so wise?” She pressed a kiss into Didi’s sweet-smelling hair. “You’re right, honey. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t care if other people say this is bad for us to do. I say it isn’t!” Resting her head on Valerie’s breast, she added, “I love you so much, Mom. More than ever!”

Valerie trailed a hand up and down Didi’s back, occasionally stroking the girl’s pert little bottom. “I love you too, honey.”

“Good. Now hush!” Didi nestled deeper into her mother’s embrace. “It’s quiet time. Let’s just… be together, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” Valerie whispered, then fell silent, cradling her daughter in both arms, basking in the moment. Just be together, like Didi said.

There would be time to reflect later. Time to explore, to discover, to savor the delights, the wonders and yes, the complications of being her child’s lover.

But for now, Valerie and Didi lay quietly, perfectly relaxed, serenaded by the faint sounds of neighborhood children playing in the afternoon sun.

The End

 

by Suzy Freeman

Introduction: Hello, readers of the best erotica site on the internet! I am Suzanne Freeman, but my friends call me Suzy. I am the girlfriend of Cheryl Taggert’s widow, Lisa Taggert. I won’t say how old she is, but I am considerably younger at age 25. I know it won’t surprise anyone that she now has a younger girlfriend.

After much prodding from Lisa, I started writing this story for JS. I submitted the first chapter to JetBoy, and to my delighted surprise, he said it was good enough for this wonderful website. I hope you agree. 

I’m pretty much an open book, so I want to include a little bit about me. If you don’t care to read that kind of stuff, just scroll on down to the first chapter. I just wanted to share it.

I grew up in a rural area of the midwestern U.S. No, I won’t say where because I’m not THAT open. I have an older brother and an older sister. I grew to understand that I was a lesbian over the years. Yes, I did engage in incestuous activities with my sibs, though mostly with my brother, who took my virginity when I was 12, maybe just turned 13. He was around 16 at the time, I think. No, it wasn’t rape, and I was into it, but I won’t say more since this place is not about boy-girl sex. 

My sister and I never did more than masturbate at the same time, since we shared a bedroom. She caught me rubbing one out once, and I remember that she said, “Well, I guess it’s okay if I do it myself if you’re in the room.” My sister is straight, though I did sometimes catch her peeking at me when I fingered my pussy. She did know I liked girls “in that way” and would sometimes watch when I had a friend stay the night, but that’s about it. It took me a LONG time to talk my then girlfriend into ignoring my sister being in the room when we had sex, though. My second girlfriend never would do anything while my sister was there. I only had those two girlfriends before starting college.

I used to be the young girl who fantasized about an adult woman doing things with me, like sucking my little titties (they’re still kinda small) or licking my pussy. One of my teachers was a frequent object of my active imagination when I was in my mid-teens. So, that sort of puts me on the other end of the typical fantasies you get from readers of this kind of stuff. Lately, though, I’ve really been turned on by the thought of sex with someone – ahem – younger than me. Okay, a LOT younger than me. Sometimes, though, I read these stories and imagine I am the young girl, not the adult, or that my sister liked girls too, and we got to explore sex with each other.

A huge thank you to Lisa, whom I dearly love. If it weren’t for her, this story wouldn’t exist. I asked her how it felt to be the soulmate and inspiration to TWO authors of lesbian erotica, and she said, “It’s great!” I’d say she’s a lucky lady, but that title belongs to me because I’m with her. Yeah, like Cheryl, I’m a romantic through and through.

Additional thanks to JetBoy, who helped me with this story more than anyone knows. 

This is the first stand-alone part of what I’m calling “Circle of Stories,” currently in progress, where a character in each story has an adventure of the sexual kind with a different partner in the next story. That’s why I’m calling each separate part an “episode.”  

Finally, here’s to you, the fans of erotic fiction like this. Again, I hope you like it! And if you do, please leave a comment, okay?

***

Linda was tucked up in bed, thinking about what her friend Scarlett had taught her the night before at their sleepover. Scarlett was already twelve, with a birthday in March, but she was in the same class as Linda, who would turn twelve herself in August.

As she basked in memories of the previous evening, Linda began to feel renewed excitement bubbling in her center.

It was close to midnight, and her family was asleep. Linda, though, was thinking about what she and Scarlett had done the night before, toying with the notion of trying it again. It felt so good! Nestling into the covers, she allowed what had taken place to play out in her mind. And as the memory of her time with Scarlett began to unfold, Linda pushed her pajamas down to her knees, resting a hand on her still-smooth vulva.

“What boy do you like?” Scarlett had asked, not long after their bedtime conversation had turned to boys.

“You won’t tell?”

“Of course not, silly!”

“I kinda like… Bobby Wentworth.”

“Yeah, he’s cute.” They were silent for a moment. “Ever think about him naked?”

“Naked?!” She grinned at Scarlett, feeling her face get hot. The truth was, she didn’t really think Bobby was all that cute, but she didn’t want to sound like some kind of weirdo, so she’d come out with the name of the first boy that came to mind.

For some reason, Linda didn’t find any boys to be especially cute. She’d wondered about that for a long time, until realizing that she only thought of girls that way. She loved watching movies with teenage cuties in them – in fact, if she was being truly honest with Scarlett, Linda would’ve much preferred to chat about the actresses she liked best.

“Yeah, naked,” Scarlett replied. “I’m always wondering what people look like naked.”

“People… or just boys?” Linda asked, wondering if maybe Scarlett thought about naked girls, too, the way she did.

Scarlett shrugged, sidestepping the question. “Don’t know. I just like the idea of seeing other people with no clothes on.”

“Oh.” Once more, Linda could feel a blush rushing into her cheeks, wondering if Scarlett could tell.

“What about you? Do you like the idea of seeing anyone naked?”

“I… I guess.”

Scarlett frowned. “You guess? You don’t know?”

“Of course I know,” Linda sighed. “I’m just not sure I want to talk about it.”

They were silent for a moment, then Scarlett spoke. “You ever wonder what I look like naked?”

Linda was taken aback. Is she offering to undress for me? She’d never seen her friend completely nude before. They’d taken turns showering in Scarlett’s bathroom, then got into their pajamas before coming out. That’s how it always was when they spent the night together.

Linda paused for so long before answering that Scarlett asked the question again. “Well? Have you ever thought about me that way?”

“Naked? Why do you ask? Are you gonna do a strip show for me?”

Scarlett smiled. “I might, but only if you promise not to tell anyone.”

Linda felt her cheeks grow hot again, and her heart was already racing. Glancing at Scarlett, she could tell her blush had definitely been noticed.

Scarlett wasn’t backing down. “So, what about it? Wanna see me naked?”

“If you want me to see, sure.” Linda murmured. Really, she might as well have exclaimed, ‘YES!’ but she didn’t want to sound too eager.

“Okay, but if I get naked, you have to.”

Linda’s excitement went up a notch. She wants us both to be naked? For the first time, she wondered if her friend was hinting at something.

Still, she felt a bit hesitant to undress on the spur of the moment. “Um…  you won’t tell anyone, right?”

Scarlett gave her a playful poke. “Of course not, silly. Then you could tell people about me getting naked with you, and our friends would, well, wonder about that.”

“Yeah… and I bet your parents would have a problem with it if they caught us,” Linda added.

Scarlett considered this before saying, “Yeah, I guess.” It was an odd response, as if her parents really wouldn’t mind, but Linda dismissed that. Of course they would.

Gathering her courage, Linda took a deep breath and said, “Okay, then… but you go first.”

Scarlett smiled, and Linda couldn’t help but think that smile hinted that her friend was getting away with something.

Getting to her feet, Scarlett reached down to lift the hem of her pajama top, pulling it up and off. Her breasts had just begun to come in, and her pink nipples made Linda think of cinnamon drops. Scarlett grasped the waistline of her pajama bottoms, pushed them down and stepped out. Startled to see that her friend had gone without panties, Linda asked herself, Did she plan this?

Now naked, a smiling Scarlett lay back down to stretch out alongside Linda. This time her smile seemed to indicate pride, as if undressing for her friend was something she’d been thinking about for a while.

“So… what’cha think?” Scarlett asked.

“About what?”

“My body, goofball! D’you think I’m sexy?”

Linda definitely thought her friend was sexy. She’d thought that long before seeing her naked. Still, she didn’t want to completely admit her true feelings to Scarlett. “I guess,” she said. It was an honest answer that kept her hidden longings secret.

“Okay, your turn,” Scarlett said, placing both hands behind her head.

Linda watched her friend’s face closely while she took her top off. She had no titties yet, but her nipples had begun to thicken into pert little caps that stood out from her otherwise flat chest.

“Cute,” Scarlett murmured with an appreciative nod. “Girl, you are seriously cute!”

Linda took note of the big smile Scarlett wore. Wow, she’s really enjoying this. “Now the bottoms,” Scarlett said, a hint of impatience in her voice.

Linda pushed the pajama bottoms to her knees. Raising both legs, she pulled them off completely. Now they were both nude, lying side by side.

Scarlett propped herself up on an elbow, carefully studying her friend’s nudity. “You have a pretty pussy,” she said.

Looking down at her own sex, then Scarlett’s, Linda shrugged. “It looks just like yours.”

“You’re saying my pussy is pretty, huh?” Scarlett teased. Then she giggled, and Linda joined in. She’d liked the idea of undressing with her bestie, but now that they were actually naked, she was loving every minute of it. Seeing Scarlett with all her clothes off was a real treat. And letting Scarlett see her that way was even more of a thrill.

A warm, steady pulse was beginning to throb between Linda’s legs. It was something she’d been feeling a lot lately.

“So… tell me something,” Scarlett said, her voice taking on more of a serious tone.

“Okay. How about… water is wet!” Linda announced, unable to restrain a chuckle.

“No, silly!” Scarlett said, but with a smile. “I’ve got a… a sort of question for you, and it’s kinda important. Something I’ve been thinking about a lot.”

“Okay,” Linda said, gazing affectionately at her friend. “What kind of ‘something’ are we talking about?”

“Um… do you ever masturbate?”

It caught Linda completely by surprise… and she found herself hesitant to respond. Sure, she’d heard of masturbation, mostly in whispered conversations with other girls. She knew it meant touching yourself until you got this good, good feeling called an orgasm. Linda had never attempted it herself, though. That was a line she was too embarrassed to cross.

“Do I what?” Linda asked. She understood perfectly well, but needed time to come up with an answer..

Scarlett wasn’t fooled. “C’mon, you heard me. Do. You. Ever. Masturbate?”

Linda could only stare, her heart racing. “Do you?” she blurted.

“All the time.”

Linda didn’t believe her. “All the time? I never saw you doing that in class.”

Huffing impatiently, Scarlett folded her arms. “No one does it in class, dummy! I’m talking about when it’s private, when I can masturbate and not get in trouble.” She paused. “So… how about it? Do you?”

No way out of it – Linda had to tell the truth. She’d never been a good liar, and if she tried it now, Scarlett would probably press her for details she couldn’t give.

Finally, with a sigh, she said, “No. And you really…?”

“Oh, yeah! I love it!”

Linda hesitated, then asked, How do you, y’know, get started? You just… touch down there?”

“Well, first, you have to sort of get yourself in the mood. Otherwise, it won’t work.”

“In the mood?”

“Yeah, you know… excited.”

Tingling with anticipation, Linda hesitantly asked, “Are you excited right now?”

“When I’m lying next to a naked, sexy girl like you? Of course!”

Linda felt herself blush at her friend’s praise, but she wanted to know more. “What’s it feel like when you… finish?”

“Only the best thing in the whole world,” Scarlett replied, grinning hugely. “I’m not joking, either. It feels incredible!”

“I’m… I’m kinda scared to try it.”

“Why?”

“Well, isn’t it wrong? Reverend Comstock told us in youth group that you’ll go to hell if you masturbate.”

“Like he’d know!” Scarlett snorted. “God, I’m so glad my parents don’t go to church. Don’t listen to him, Linda. People like that think anything to do with sex is bad. He’s totally wrong. It’s like heaven, not hell!”

“So… it’s not a sin?”

“If it is, then practically everyone in the world is going to be in big trouble with God.”

“Everyone does it?” Linda asked, frowning.

“Pretty much. My sister masturbates, my brother… even my parents!”

“Nuh-uh! How would you know that?”

Scarlett hesitated, then said, “I asked Mom about it when I did it the first time.”

Linda’s jaw dropped. “Are you crazy? You asked your mother about that?”

“Yeah. You know how my parents are a lot different from most grownups? We’re allowed to come to them with questions, even if it’s about sex stuff!”

Linda thought for a moment. It was true – Scarlett’s parents were a heck of a lot more easygoing than hers. She couldn’t imagine talking to her mom about anything like that, much less her dad. “What did she say?”

“That it’s totally normal and I should enjoy it.”

“Really? You swear you aren’t making that up?”

“Cross my heart,” Scarlett replied, drawing a large X over her chest.

Linda was more intrigued than ever. “So, how do you do it?”

“First, think of someone you think is sexy. Imagine them naked, doing sexy stuff with you. Touching you in all the places that feel good.” Scarlett glanced down at Linda’s slit. “Like your pussy.”

“Then what?”

“Then touch yourself there and imagine it’s them doing it.”

It was no surprise that Linda immediately pictured herself being touched by Scarlett. After all, she’d been crushing on her best friend for at least a year… and now they were lying side by side, completely naked. Throwing caution to the winds, Linda embraced the fantasy.

As she imagined Scarlett touching her most private place, a delicious tingle made itself felt between her thighs. Until now, she always did her best to ignore those twinges until they went away. Now, she let them build. The more Linda thought of being fondled by her friend, the more she longed for it to happen, but she knew it would have to remain a fantasy, nothing more. If Scarlett knew, it would ruin everything.

“Thinking about someone touching your pussy?” Scarlett asked, a hint of breathlessness in her voice.

Glancing up, Linda gasped when she saw Scarlett rubbing herself. She was trailing two fingers along the cleft of her sex – going down, then up, then down again. There was a short pause when Scarlett reached near the top of the slit, where she would rub herself there in tiny circles before her fingers moved down once more.

Looking into Scarlett’s eyes, Linda noticed that they’d changed slightly, no longer sparkling with mischief or dancing with excitement like usual. They were almost half-lidded, and her friend’s expression was dreamy as she continued to pleasure herself.

It would be SO awesome if she was pretending I was the one who was touching her like that. I would, Scarlett, if you asked me to. Honest, I would!

A whimper escaped her friend’s lips, and Scarlett’s hand was moving faster now. “C’mon, Linda,” she moaned. “Do it with me. Touch your pussy.”

It was the last straw. I’m tired of always being the good little girl, she told herself. Why can’t I enjoy myself for once? Right then, she couldn’t think of a single valid answer to that question.

Reaching down, Linda ran a finger through the folds of her sex. Carefully parting the lips, she pressed against the inner flesh of the vagina. She’d sensed wetness there, but was surprised by how much of it there was, as if she’d peed herself. Of course, she’d done no such thing, but her fingers were already coated with the warm, thick fluid. That means I’m turned on.

Continuing her intimate exploration, Linda felt her way around, letting her touches linger in a way she’d never done before. When her finger grazed a certain spot near the top of her slit, a jolt of pleasure startled her. It was more intense, like a burn that produced good feelings instead of hurting.

Linda touched there again, mumbling, “Wow,” as a second twinge of ecstasy raced through her. She felt her body shiver slightly at the contact.

“You found your clit, huh?” asked Scarlett. “I didn’t even get around to telling you about that. It’s what you rub when you’re ready to come. But it’s better if you touch around it at first, get yourself nice and worked up. Then when you get off, it’s like a… like fireworks going off in your pussy!”

Linda couldn’t resist. She began to rub herself in earnest, and Scarlett gave her a seductive smile. At least, it seemed to be seductive.

Watching one another closely, the two girls fondled themselves for a minute or so, until Scarlett said, “Hey, Linda… ever kissed anyone before? A real kiss, on the mouth?”

“Um, no.” Linda replied, her excitement ratcheting even higher as she realized what her friend was hinting at. Oh my gosh, is she really gonna…?

“You… you wanna try it with me?” Scarlett seemed almost bashful, as if she thought Linda might say no.

Linda didn’t answer, just nodded, eager to experience the touch of Scarlett’s lips on hers. By then, she could feel herself glowing inside, a mixture of anticipation, desire and, yeah, love.

When their lips touched, the first thing Linda noticed was how soft her friend’s mouth was. Then Linda felt Scarlett’s tongue seeking entrance, and parted her lips without a second thought. She knew about French kisses, of course, despite never experiencing one…and it was even nicer than she expected. It seemed like the most obvious thing in the world to kiss her friend back in the same way.

As their tongues engaged, Linda felt a delicious shiver run through her body. It seemed to center itself between her legs, so she returned to touching herself. This time she went straight to the top of the slit,  where those especially nice feelings seemed to be.

Linda gave a happy sigh as Scarlett’s arms twined around her. At first, she thought it was a hug, then realized that her friend was rolling onto her back, trying to position Linda on top. This seemed like a great idea, and soon Linda was lying on Scarlett, their bare bodies nestled snugly together, each girl’s slit rested against the other’s thigh. Linda could feel Scarlett grind against her, and hastened to copy her friend’s movements.

Now they were kissing and working their bodies together, and it was amazing. Oh, my goodness. Scarlett was right; this really does feel like heaven. She’d never had an orgasm before, though she vaguely knew what the word meant. It had always seemed to be dirty; something she was too young to be thinking about. Now, though, Linda felt like she might die if she didn’t have one right this minute.

Scarlett was panting and gasping in time with the hard thrusts she was making against Linda’s leg. Linda realized that she was doing the same, fully matching Scarlett’s tempo. It was like pressing her pussy against a live wire. The universe was reduced to their bodies, their movements, the sounds of their increasingly frenzied workout. And the pleasure… Oh, my God, it’s so, so good.

Suddenly it occurred to her they were making a lot of noise, maybe loud enough to be heard. What if someone came to see what was going on? The crazy idea that she might not even care if they got caught was lost in a jumble of incredible sensations.

Then Scarlett was screaming. That was the only way to describe it. They’re gonna hear that for sure! was the last thought to flash through Linda’s mind before her own cries filled the air.

White-hot jolts of ecstasy rocketed through her body. She was either thinking or howling, “Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” as the first orgasm of her life took hold and wouldn’t let go.

Her climax lasted for what felt like minutes, though she was sure that wasn’t the case. It was as if time itself no longer existed outside this instant. Her body jerked and heaved with the sensations that enveloped her. Linda was vaguely aware of her breath coming in gasps, seeming to fill the room with the sound of her breathing. From somewhere beyond her body, she could hear the same squeals and heaving breaths from Scarlett.

After the fireworks finally ended, Linda rolled off Scarlett and onto her back, separating their damp, glistening bodies. They lay quietly side by side, catching their breath. Finally, Scarlett turned toward her friend. “Was I right, or was I right? Like heaven, huh?”

Linda wore a grin of complete satisfaction. “You were right.” The girls giggled, then drifted together in a tender kiss.

At that point, there was a knock at the bedroom door. “Girls?” It was Scarlett’s mom.

“Oh, shit!” Linda hissed. She seldom used cuss words, but now she was in full panic mode, already dreading what her parents would say when Mrs. Jacobson told them what she’d caught them doing.

Scarlett, on the other hand, was unruffled. “Just a sec,” she answered, then pulled the covers up to just beneath their bare shoulders.

Linda was puzzled. Mrs. Jacobson would surely know they were naked underneath, or at least topless. But before she could tug the blanket any higher, Scarlett said, “C’mon in, Mom.”

The door opened, and a smiling Mrs. Jacobson stood there, dressed only in a skimpy nightgown that revealed quite a bit. In fact, her breasts were clearly visible through the filmy material. The sight surprised Linda, an unexpected hint of warmth flickering between her thighs. Scared as she was, Linda still had to admit that her friend’s mom was wicked hot.

“I could hear you girls,” Mrs. Jacobson said. Smiling at Linda, she added, “Don’t worry, sweetheart… we’re very open about such things in this house. Scarlett has told me more than a few times that she has a big crush on you, so I knew something like this was likely to happen. As long as you keep it a secret, you’re welcome to come spend the night anytime your parents say you can and make love with Scarlett. It’s totally natural for girls to experiment with each other, so don’t feel like you’ve done anything wrong.”

“Um, sure, okay,” Linda said, suddenly unable to meet the woman’s penetrating gaze. “Thanks, Mrs. Jacobson.”

“Yeah… thanks, Mom,” Scarlett exclaimed, all smiles.

Mrs. Jacobson looked from one girl to the other. “Can I get either of you something to drink? After that workout, I’ll bet you’re both thirsty!”

“That’s okay,” Scarlett said. “I’ll get us a couple of sodas.” With that, she emerged stark naked from the bed.

Linda stared in disbelief as Scarlett advanced toward the doorway without a stitch of clothing… then her jaw dropped when Scarlett paused to kiss her mother – on the mouth. It was anything but a daughterly kiss. Linda could see her friend’s tongue dart between Mrs. Jacobson’s parted lips.

The woman briefly resisted, but not for long. With a low moan, Mrs. Jacobson responded, her tongue flashed to life, then mother and daughter shared a passionate kiss. Linda barely restrained a shocked gasp when Scarlett placed a hand on her mom’s breast, fondling it through the gauzy nightgown.

Finally breaking away, Scarlett glanced over at her wide-eyed friend and gave her a wink. “Be right back!” she chirped, then vanished from sight. Her bare feet could be heard against the wooden floor for a few steps.

Mrs. Jacobson watched her daughter go, then turned back to Linda. Her cheeks were flushed. “I hope you’ll keep our secret, Linda. Please don’t tell anyone about what you just saw. It would cause us serious problems… and honestly, we’re not hurting anyone. Scarlett loves it. Our lifestyle, I mean.”

“I… I won’t say anything, Mrs. Jacobson,” Linda said, imagining what it would be like to share a bed with Scarlett’s mother. The sight of her in that see-through nightie caused a renewed warmth to spread beneath her belly.

“Good. Call me Margeaux, by the way. Well, I’ll give you some privacy. You two have fun, okay?”

“Okay.” Linda couldn’t believe an adult was actually encouraging her to have lesbian sex… and enjoy it!.

“Good night, sweetie.” With that, Scarlett’s smiling mother gently closed the door.

Linda couldn’t believe what she’d just seen, but knew one thing for certain: she would be spending the night at Scarlett’s as often as she could.

When Scarlett returned with the drinks a minute or so later, she handed Linda a can of soda, then rejoined her on the bed, murmuring, “I bet you’ve got a few questions.”

“No shit,” Linda said. It was almost unheard of for her to swear twice in the same day, but her life was undergoing some major changes. “Your mom is okay with this? Us doing sexy stuff?”

“More than okay. She loves it.”

“And the way you two kissed. It was like girlfriends kissing, not a mom and daughter.”

“That’s how it is when we fuck,” Scarlett said.

It was the answer she’d expected to hear – well, not with her friend using that word – but Linda was still shocked. “So you and your mom…?”

“Yeah. We have sex. Pretty often, actually.”

“Whoa. When did that get started?”

“Oh, I was a lot younger… about nine, I think. Mom got my sister to teach me how, then we both started doing it with her, too. I’ve also had sex with my brother and dad, but that’s a story for another day… or night.” Scarlett winked at Linda.

“What do you do with your mom… and your sister?”

Scarlett shrugged. “Everything.”

“And what does ‘everything’ mean?” Linda demanded. “Don’t be a tease. Tell me!”

“You know, lesbian sex. Things two girls can do to each other with all their clothes off. Kissing, rubbing, fingering, licking, sucking. Fucking. All of it!”

Linda was intrigued. “Licking? Sucking?”

“Yeah. I was gonna show you that next time you spend the night.”

“Next time?”

“Sorry, but I’m too tired right now. I had sex with my sister Gina just before your dad brought you over, so I’m kinda wiped out, y’know?”

“I guess.” Now Linda found herself picturing Scarlett and her big sister naked, in bed and having sex. It was a compelling image, one that caused her pussy to tingle and throb.

Taking one last swallow of soda, Scarlett dropped the empty can in the waste basket beside her bed. A moment later, Linda did the same. “Goodnight,” Scarlett said and leaned over for a kiss.

Linda responded, seeking her friend’s tongue, and their kiss grew deep and passionate. After a moment, Scarlett gently broke away. “I love you, y’know.”

“Yeah,” Linda said, all but glowing with happiness. “I love you, too. I… I’ve felt that way for a long time.”

Scarlett smiled at Linda, then rolled away from her. “Spoon with me,” she said.

“Sure.” Linda scooted over to press her body against Scarlett’s, making sure her pussy was nestled into the cleft of her best friend’s flawless bottom.

Before long, they both dozed off.

***

Later that night, Linda felt movement in the bed, enough to wake her. When she opened her eyes, she was drowsy at first, wondering what was going on. An instant later, she was wide awake, heart pounding.

Scarlett’s mother Margeaux was in bed with them. She was lying on her tummy between her daughter’s legs, licking Scarlett’s slit. Margeaux was naked, just like the girls, and Linda had a very enticing view of the woman’s bottom as she feasted on her daughter’s pussy.

Scarlett’s eyes were tightly closed, her hands resting on Margeaux’s head. “Oh, Mom,” she was whispering, “that f-feels so nice. I love it when you do that to me.”

Scooting back against the headboard, Linda sat quietly, watching the sex between mother and daughter, feeling her pussy throb. I’m gonna have to touch myself down there, she decided. There’s no way I can see something like this, then just roll over and go to sleep.

She wondered: would Margeaux or Scarlett mind if she masturbated while watching them have sex? She didn’t see why. Mrs. Jacobson did tell us to have fun, didn’t she? Surely she didn’t expect me to sleep through this. It wasn’t as if either of them were making much of an effort to keep quiet.

Deciding to go for it, Linda placed a finger at the top of her slit and instantly felt a twinge of pleasure course through her. Neither Scarlett nor her mother seemed to notice, so she began to rub herself in small circles, occasionally reaching down to gather some of the juices that were now flowing freely from her vagina, then smearing them over the labial folds for extra lubrication.

Linda’s attention shifted back and forth from Mrs. Jacobson’s ass to where her mouth was between Scarlett’s legs. Wonder what it tastes like? she asked herself. Realizing the answer was literally at her fingertips, she brought her hand to her lips, taking a cautious lick. Mmmm… not bad. She took a finger in her mouth to suck. Kinda nice, even.

Margeaux opened her eyes, which lit up at the sight of Linda watching them fuck. She raised her head from Scarlett’s pussy to speak, and her daughter let out a whimper of protest.

“Well, we were hoping you’d wake up,” Margeaux said.

“You did?”

Opening her own eyes, Scarlett grinned. “Linda! Cool. Wanna join us?”

Linda couldn’t believe it. Scarlett and her mom wanted to have sex with her! “Um, sure,” she said. “Yeah!”

“Let’s do a daisy chain,” Mrs. Jacobson said.

Do a what..? Linda wondered. But Scarlett broke in before she could ask.

“Yeah, let’s!” her friend exclaimed, “So. Linda, lie down so you can lick my mom. She’ll do it to me, and I’ll lick you, all at the same time. It’s awesome!”

Linda was nervous, never having done anything like this, but she was beside herself with arousal, eager to learn everything she could about lesbian sex. And you learn by doing… that’s what Dad always says.

Arranging herself on the bed so she could lick Margeaux, Linda shifted her hips until her sex was within easy reach of Scarlett’s mouth. Seconds later, she felt the caress of her friend’s tongue, then Scarlett pressed her mouth against Linda’s pussy in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Oh my God!” Linda blurted. It was so far beyond the pleasures she’d experienced thus far that she had to struggle to keep from screaming.

Taking a steadying breath, Linda gazed into the wet folds of Mrs. Jacobson’s sex. She was so wet that it looked as if someone had poured real cream into her pussy, and the thick, earthy scent had Linda feeling lightheaded. Moistening her lips, she wondered what it would taste like, compared to hers. Only one way to find out...

Drawing close, Linda leaned forward and gave the woman’s slit a tentative lick, gathering a hint of the cream onto the tip of her tongue. It really wasn’t enough to get a real taste, so she pressed her tongue against the juicy opening once more.

She paused to sample the flavor, and a thrill went through her as she realized it was delicious. She was about to move in for more, but Margeaux stopped licking her daughter long enough to say, “Is this your first time eating pussy, Linda?”

“Um, yeah,” Linda admitted. She could have lied, but it must have seemed obvious that she was new to this.

“That’s fine. We all have to start somewhere. Just lick the opening and the folds of skin down there, maybe put your tongue inside… but when I start getting really, really excited, you want to pay special attention to the clit.”

“Your… clit?”

“Yes. You were just pressing against it with your tongue. It’s that little bump near the top of the slit. Can you see it?”

It took a few seconds to find what Margeaux was talking about. “Um, okay. Yeah, I found it.”

“Good job. The only other thing you have to do is, well, enjoy yourself.”

Linda giggled. “I can do that!” Diving in, she began to lick Scarlett’s mom in earnest, doing her best to make the woman feel incredible. Her lips, cheeks and chin were soon dripping with the luscious essence of pussy. She trailed her tongue up and down through the rosy flesh, nibbled at the labial folds, thrust her tongue in and out of Mrs. Jacobson’s vagina – anything she could think of.

Whatever she was doing seemed to work, too. She could hear Margeaux humming her approval, then a moan escaped the woman’s lips. Linda’s excitement was at fever pitch, her nervousness gone. She was about to make a grown woman come with her mouth! How cool is that? she thought.

Meanwhile, Scarlett’s lips and tongue were doing a lively dance on Linda’s pussy. She wondered how young her friend had been when Scarlett had learned about sex. Ten? Seven? I’ll have to ask her about that some time.

In less than a minute, Linda could tell her orgasm was fast approaching. She bucked and squirmed at the constant, incredible contact between Scarlett’s mouth and her pussy as those good feelings got more and more intense.

Wanting Mrs. Jacobson to come at the same time she did, Linda centered her attention on the little bump the woman had pointed out to her a moment ago. The… the clit, that’s what she called it. Lick her there. That’s what Scarlett was doing to her, and it really did feel amazing. Taking the engorged nubbin between her lips, Linda sucked at it like a straw, then flicked it a few times with her tongue.

Soon, Margeaux began to tremble and shake, groaning into her daughter’s pussy. The moan became a wail, and just as Linda realized she was making Mrs. Jacobson come, her own orgasm slammed home.

Since Margeaux was making enough of a racket to wake the neighborhood,  it seemed okay for Linda to let loose herself. So she squealed out loud through her own frenzied climax, forming an erotic chorus of sorts with Mrs. Jacobson and Scarlett, who was also coming.

Once their ecstasy had crested and waned, the three broke apart and rolled onto their backs, catching their breath. After a moment, Mrs. Jacobson murmured, “Linda, honey… I imagine you’re a bit sensitive down there, but would you mind if I had a taste of you?”

“Um… not at all! I’d love for you to,” Linda quickly replied, a tremor in her voice. She knew Scarlett and her mom were lovers, but hadn’t considered the notion that Mrs. Jacobson might want to do those things to her, too. Well, why not? I licked her; it’s only fair.

Linda watched in awe, heart fluttering as Margeaux stretched out between her thighs. “You have a lovely cunt, dearest,” she said, lightly tracing the slit with a finger. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

She began by lightly kissing the folds of Linda’s pussy, avoiding her clit. It was true that the girl was still tender after her orgasm, but Margeaux’s gentleness brought her along gradually, coaxing the spark into a flame, then the flame into a roaring fire. Soon, Linda was holding her legs wide apart, panting, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!”

Linda felt soft lips brushing her cheek, Surprised, she opened her eyes to find Scarlett at her side. Their mouths drifted together in a kiss that quickly grew heated. Linda surprised herself by bringing her tongue into play first, but Scarlett was quick to respond.

Something about the taste of her friend’s lips got Linda’s attention – then she realized that, of course, it was the flavor of her own pussy. Omigosh, that’s so, SO hot! Wanting more, she circled Scarlett’s mouth with her tongue.

Scarlett said, “I’m so glad this is happening, Linda. I’ve been wanting to share you with Mom for… oh, ages. Just wait, though. Next, time, we’ll get my big sister in on it, and we’ll all fuck. Gina thinks you’re way hot!”

With that revelation, Linda went off in her third orgasm of the night. And as she mewled and shook, her body bucking wildly, it occurred to her that she wouldn’t mind living with this family forever. She could never experience this kind of freedom in her own home. It would have taken every ounce of courage Linda had just to tell her mother that she masturbated. And the idea of talking to her about being into girls? Well, that seemed as remote Linda as winning at Wimbledon – and she didn’t even play tennis, much less excel at it.

Once Linda recovered, Margeaux gave her a deep, passionate kiss. Like she had with Scarlett, Linda licked around the woman’s mouth, savoring that thick, luscious taste of hersel.

Finally, Mrs. Jacobson got up and slipped into her nightie. Smiling at Linda, she said. “Do you have any questions for me, hon?”

Linda thought for a second. “Am I the youngest girl you’ve ever had sex with?”

Mrs. Jacobson smiled. “Since I became an adult, you mean?”

“Yes.”

Margeaux shook her head. “Well, no. I first made love to Scarlett before she turned ten. But I’ve also been with an eight-year-old before. My niece Violet.”

“How old is she now?”

“Fourteen.”

Linda’s eyes widened. “Wow. You’ve been doing this for a while, huh?”

Mrs. Jacobson idly cupped her breasts. “With girls? Since I was seven. It really got started when I was fourteen and worked as a babysitter. Sometimes I fucked their moms, too.”

“Wow. Did you, er, ever do something with a kid who didn’t wanna do stuff?”

“Never. That’s one thing I would never do, honey. If they don’t want it, I don’t either.”

“Okay. Guess that’s all the questions I have. For now, anyway.”

“All right, then. Goodnight, girls.” Mrs. Jacobson gave them each a brief kiss, then left the room.

Scarlett wrapped her arms around Linda. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you too, Scar. Thank you for… for showing me such a great time.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure. Hmmm. It’s nearly 3 AM. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Fine. Some time, though, you’ve got to tell me about the first time you did it with your mom. I totally want to hear that story!”

“Tomorrow, I promise.” Reaching over to the lamp on her nightstand, Scarlett switched it off, plunging the room into darkness. “G’night, Lin.”

“Night-night.” Linda murmured, setting down.

Her head was such a crazy whirl that she half-expected to pass a sleepless night. In fact, she dozed off before five minutes had passed

***

The next morning at breakfast, everyone was smiling at Linda and Scarlett when they padded into the kitchen.

“Have fun last night?” asked Scarlett’s older sister Gina.

Scarlett fired back, “More fun than you did, fingering your pussy while you listened to us fuck.”

“Aw, I thought I kept the volume down. How’d you know?” Gina replied, sporting a bad-girl grin.

“Because it’s what I would’ve done if you’d had one of your sexy friends in bed.”

“Or you could’ve just joined them,” Scarlett’s brother Jake said, glancing up from his plate.

Scarlett grinned. “Well, yeah, there’s that.”

***

As Linda lay in her own bed the next night, replaying the entire evening in her mind, she brought herself to a lovely orgasm – her second of the day, actually.

It surprised her at first, how often she felt the need to make herself come since the sleepover, but it would be the way of things for her from that day forward. Linda was destined to be a girl who simply had to have at least one orgasm every day, either as she was going to bed, about to get out of bed, or in the shower. And when nobody else was home, she nearly always did it then, too.

Of course, there were also the many sexual encounters Linda would have with girls and women, starting with Scarlett, Margeaux, and Gina. She was a frequent guest at the Jacobson residence, and was nearly always assured of a good time with one or more of her three lovers there.

Linda would forever be addicted to orgasms, beautiful women, and lesbian sex. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing better.

The End