“There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
- Anaïs Nin

It was just a fantasy. Something, a thought really, that I had nestled away tight inside my mind, only to find the dream had become my reality, and now, she was at the door, at my home, penetrating parts of me which I’ve been too afraid to explore until now. To open this part of me which cries out and yearns to be touched these ways from deep within my soul; it’s the beast inside me, the lust and hunger for her, and for him, for everything.

You have made this possible, and yet I sense the fear in you as well. I know you’re afraid of what this will mean and what we will become; but I know that love is never wrong and I love you both with everything that I am as a woman, with every part of my anatomy, with every part of my heart.

I pause. My palm is sweating against the brass doorknob. A slight tremble in my hand stops me from turning it and unleashing this fury. There is no turning back from this. No escape. Nowhere to run. She is here. It’s time.

We’ve planned this. We talked about what we would wear, how we wanted this to be. I’ve confessed my need to be taken completely by both of you, and you understand, even helped me find my way along this path of self discovery, guiding me, keeping me safe. You picked out my clothes. A schoolgirl uniform. Plaid skirt. White blouse. White knee socks. Tidy shoes. White cotton underwear. You washed and bathed me earlier. Shaving my legs, my underarms, my pussy. I couldn’t stand myself while you did this to me, while you transformed me into what I need to be, into what I am. I became so turned on as you spread the thick shaving cream over my skin and then slid the sharp razor against my body, washing and wiping away these bodily signs of maturity. God how I want this… how I want to be transformed… how I need this…

My heart is pounding in my chest as I stand before the door. My thin cotton underwear is snuggled tight against the swollen lips of my pussy, my cunt is so hot, so wet. I can feel the hot slippery liquid spreading out of me and soaking into the fabric. The scent is everywhere. My scent. Everywhere. I feel so amazing in this moment. My mind is transfixed on how I must look, and I can’t wait to see the her face when she sees me like this. I did this for her, she’s always wanted this, and this is my gift to her for this gift to me; to take me into those dark recesses of my erotic mind and make my fantasy real. To bring forth this dark desire and to live.

To live it…

You’ve tied my hair into pigtails; I feel so dirty and yet so amazing like this, as if every sexual urge and thought I ever had my entire life has rushed back into my consciousness. Memories of my life cascade through my mind – I remember the first cock I sucked out in the woods behind my house when I was sixteen, and how he came in my mouth, and what he tasted like. I remember the first time a boy put his hands between my legs, and clumsily fingered me. I remember that pain, and the pain of loss, and how tight my cunt was around his probing finger, and how I got so wet, and how he told me he liked the way I felt. I remember the first time another boy touched my breasts and sucked on my nipples, and how it made me wet when he did it, and how badly I wanted him to fuck me. I remember sneaking off with boys and letting them do whatever they wanted to with me, and I remember my boyfriend lifting my skirt, and pulling my cotton panties down around my knees and fucking me from behind. I remember all of these things I did, wearing clothes just like these, looking exactly as I did then, right now. I remember everything.

I can feel my clit tightening, swelling, pulsating harder with each rushing thought; I want to touch myself so badly, but you’ve made me promise not to. I won’t. I will obey you. I’ll do what you tell me. I’ll be a good girl. I promise…

My hand is clenched around the doorknob. The bell rings again. I steady myself and slowly turn it and pull open the door. I can’t bring myself to look up yet, I’m so afraid. What if she doesn’t like me this way? I’m so ashamed. I’ve been so bad. I’m such a dirty little girl. I look down at the floor and instinctively try and cross my legs together, as if I could keep the flowing insanity from my cunt at bay. I slowly lift my head and see her stilettos standing on the threshold. I hear her voice but I don’t know what she’s said, I can’t comprehend a word – I only know that her voice means safety, salvation, and rescue from this torment. God… Lisa… why… why…?

The door is open. I have opened. The threshold has been crossed. She’s here.