For Me - Pt 8

“I am Anna. Go ahead, say it.”

Beneath the mask of Anna’s face, Lauren repeated “I am Anna.”

“Good. Now say ‘you are Lauren’.”

“You are Lauren.”

“Good. And repeat.”

“I am Anna. You are Lauren.”

“I am Lauren. You are Anna.”

‘Lauren’ stepped forward and turned ‘Anna’ around, making her face one of the mirrors in her dressing area. “Look here. Who do you see?”

“Anna.” She paused, then added, “I see myself.”

“That’s right,” Lauren said with a smile. “Look at your outfit. Look at your face, your hair, your eyes, even your teeth. Is there anything at all that suggests you’re not Anna?”

Anna shook her head.

“Say it,” Lauren encouraged.

“No, there isn’t anything,” Anna said.

“You see? Even your voice is correct,” Lauren pointed out. “You have to be Anna.” She smiled, her hands moving down Anna’s back. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

Anna nodded. She looked over her form from head to toe, taking in every aspect of her outfit. Her fingers grazed the dog collar around her throat. “Why do you—sorry. Do you, uh, remember why I bought this?”

Lauren smiled. “If I remember right,” she began, ”it was that you enjoyed something about being ‘confined’. About being held back, in a weird sort of way. Even though it’s a dog collar, I don’t remember anything about being walked by anyone, just so you know. No leashes involved.”

Anna nodded. She remembered that. Or did she? Turning her head slightly, she felt the collar shift in response. Then as she turned her head back, she wondered if it was the collar she was feeling.

Taking a step closer to the mirror, she placed her fingers on her throat, just above the collar. Turning her head again, she felt something move beneath her skin. Something shift. In fact, the further she turned her head, the more it moved and the more, somehow, her skin seemed to tighten.

There was skin beneath her skin.

Her fingers pressed on her cheeks now as Lauren watched, intrigued. She tugged down slightly, feeling the subtle shift of two layers of skin. She pushed backwards, flattening her cheeks like she was imagining a facelift, and felt that movement again. It was so very subtle, almost subliminal, but it was there. A constant reminder that there was something different about her. Something unique.

“You can feel it, can’t you,” Lauren said in a low voice, her eyes glittering.

Anna nodded wordlessly.

“Turn your head all the way to the left, like you’re trying to stretch out your neck.”

Anna did as she was told.

“Now open your mouth, like you’re yawning.”

Again, she obeyed orders. As she did, she felt a slight tightening around her skull, from her ears down to her chin and neck.

“You know what’s happening,” Lauren said, “but no-one else does. Except me.”

Without prompting Anna closed her mouth, turned her head one hundred and eighty degrees in the other direction and opened her mouth again. The same feeling. She closed her eyes and began to move her head back and forth, up and down, concentrating on that sensation, that feeling of tightness, of confinement, of being hidden.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?”

Lauren’s voice was close, intimate.

“Like wearing something under your clothing that you don’t want anyone else to know about. Sexy underwear. Stockings.” She leaned even closer. “Maybe an egg in your pussy. A remote controlled vibrator.”

A sigh escaped Anna. Her hands moved to her throat, pressing down, heightening the sensation as she moved her head back and forth, beginning to get into some sort of rhythm.

“I know that feeling,” Lauren whispered. “I know how good it feels to be inside that, to be hidden away. To be invisible to everyone else, while at the same time, being seen. Most days I can’t experience it, so I wear the collar to compensate—but there’s no substitute for the real thing.”

Anna heard Lauren move, stepping behind her. Without warning she felt Lauren’s hands on her face, replacing her own. “Don’t stop. Keep moving your face,” Lauren said.

Anna didn’t. As Lauren’s fingers pressed on her cheeks, as they spread over her face, Anna moaned aloud at the sudden feeling of another’s hands on her, of having no control over this. Someone knew the truth. Someone understood. A warmth spread through her body at Lauren’s touch, rippling across her back, her thighs, her hips, her crotch.

Anna leaned her head back and Lauren’s hands pressed harder, pulling, stretching the skin across her face, an incredible feeling of deception, affectation and autonomy. Dressed like this, presented like this, she could be anyone. Anna. Lauren. An unknown street punk. A respectable heiress. Gutter trash. High society. All she had to do was wear a mask.

“Fuuuucccck,” she said, stretching the one-syllable word to two, feeling Lauren’s hands on her, never wanting it to end.

Lauren turned her around. Anna opened her eyes to see her best friend’s face coming toward her, lips parted. She didn’t resist. Lauren kissed her. Anna felt Lauren’s tongue enter her mouth, felt her lips press down on hers, their pressure subtly shifting lips that were not her lips. The fire within her roared as she found herself grabbing Lauren, hands grasping her long blond hair, body pressing against hers.

Seeing this other Lauren felt like seeing her own soul detached and made real, like she was having an out of body experience. Anna’s hands moved over Lauren’s clothing, searching, feeling, as they fell to the floor, each of them wanting the other, each of them determined to explore their new feelings, their new identities.

Lauren tugged and pulled at Anna’s leather jacket, exposing the white t-shirt beneath, grinning at the sight of her friend’s breasts pressing against the cloth. She pulled her own blouse over her head, glancing down at her own chest, comparing the two with a grin. Anna pounced, kissing and licking Lauren’s cleavage, both of them celebrating the changes they’d made, the things they’d already done and the things they could yet do.

“Help me get these pants off,” Lauren said, as if the complexities of work slacks were beyond her. Anna pointed out the side zipper and then stood back as Lauren kicked off her heels and dropped the slacks to the ground, stepping out of them and grabbing Anna once more, now clad only in her underwear. Anna fumbled at her pants too, giggling, the two of them beginning to laugh in pure joy as they fell to the floor once more, new lovers with everything to discover.

“Have you ever—”

“Yes, don’t worry,” Lauren replied, as if she had, as if at some point in her monied upbringing she’d found bliss between the legs of a woman. Boarding school, perhaps? Her time at Harvard? It didn’t matter to Anna. All she knew was that she was, she hoped, in good hands.

Lauren grinned as she slipped Anna’s panties off with one hand, then brought that same hand back and up her inner thigh. Anna shuddered at her touch, moaning, hearing her voice and loving it. The collar was still on, still a subtle drag at her neck; she clawed and scratched at her throat, like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get enough of Lauren, but didn’t touch the collar.

Leaning down, Lauren placed kisses like a set of route markers along the inside of Anna’s thigh, each kiss getting closer to her destination. Anna bit her lip, hands flat on the floor, unable to move, barely able to understand what was happening. She was watching herself—no, her best friend, that was it, that was her—doing things that were driving her wild.

Her hands reached for her, trying for her head; Lauren laughed, knowing what she wanted. “Soon,” she murmured, returning to Anna’s thighs, still kissing, still touching so gently with her lips. “I want you to want it.”

“I do, I do,” Anna moaned, but Lauren wasn’t ready to give it to her. Instead she was going to tease her with her lips, kissing, and then with her hands, stroking. She moved up and down Anna’s body touching every intimate place save one, until Anna felt like her body was on fire from within, every inch exposed.

“Ready?” Lauren finally asked.

Anna knew she was, knew she was wet and open. She wanted to feel her friend inside her, feel her fingers and her tongue drive her insane.

Lauren looked directly at her as she moved down, wanting to preserve and stretch the moment. Anna gasped as she felt Lauren’s tongue (or was it her own?) gently lap at her folds. Then Lauren’s hands helped part her and her tongue really went to work.

Anna’s clit felt like a landmine primed to go off, an unexploded bomb that needed defusing. Lauren’s tongue pressed on it, rolling left and right. Her lips clamped around it, sucking and teasing, as Anna’s cries grew more urgent, more desperate. Lauren grabbed her friend’s hips to hold her steady as her tongue continued to lick at her, and as she moved ever-so-slowly downward.

When Lauren’s tongue entered her for the first time Anna thought she saw stars, it hit so many nerves at once; she moaned even louder, uncaring if anyone could hear, wanting Lauren to hear most of all, to know how much she was doing for her.

“Jesus,” she managed to say. “That feels so fucking good….”

Lauren chuckled, but her mouth was too busy to do much else. Her tongue arced inside Anna’s soaking wet pussy lips, curling up to tickle her G-spot, then darting in and out like a thief, making off with Anna’s excitement. She licked and curled, tongued and touched, as Anna’s excitement rose, as her inhibitions fell away.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” Lauren asked during a brief pause. “Are you going to take all of me, hmm? Because I want to get inside you, babe.”

Anna moaned at the implication, nodding her head frantically. “Yes, yes, anything—”

With another chuckle, Lauren lifted one hand and slowly pushed two fingers inside Anna’s cunt, turned sideways. She began to curl them upwards, pressing on Anna’s G-spot over and over, leaving her tongue free to once again work Anna’s clit, which she pressed down on, licking and lapping, driving Anna into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Do you like this,” Lauren asked between dives, which seemed redundant at best to Anna.

“Of course, yes, fuck yes,” she replied, only just able to overcome her moans. “Don’t stop!”

“Would you ever be this good?” Lauren continued. “Do you think you could ever do this?”

“What? No, I don’t think—no, you’re better than me, you’re better!”

“Are you saying… that I’m better than you are? Hmm?”

Anna nodded, moaning, unable to form words at Lauren’s touch.

“Say it!”

The bark shocked her into a sudden awareness, a realization of what was really happening.

Lauren looked up through Anna’s face at her friend, disguised as her, staring into her eyes, unsure if she should speak the words. “You’re better than me,” she said meekly.

Anna smiled Lauren’s smile, triumphant, whispered “Yes” and then dived back down onto Lauren’s fake pussy, her tongue digging past the false folds to electrify her real clit, creating pure pleasure, driving Lauren to an orgasm unlike any she’d experienced before. The woman dressed as Anna grabbed the woman dressed as Lauren’s head and forced her down into her pussy, crying out for release as the real Anna’s tongue continued to ravage her clit.

And then, just as Lauren thought she could take no more, Anna looked up again, smiling through Lauren’s face. “This is just the beginning,” she said. “You’re going to do so much with my face.”

Once more, the reminder that she wasn’t herself, that she wasn’t Lauren Hudson the heiress, but instead Anna Webster the punk rock research scientist, drove Lauren into a near frenzy. She cried out, feeling herself cum, her juices spurting into Anna’s disguised mouth, rocking back and forth, desperate for her friend to make her forget the world, forget her life and allow her entry into her new one.

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