Even though I have the story spoken of down below- even though I actually have it mapped out- what am I writing?
I’m writing a second encounter between Jessamine and Griffin.
It finally occurred to me, that poor Griff never got her rocks off that night. And Jess’s daddy Gloria is a poking, prodding, prying kind of woman. And Jess has a thing for darkskinned butches… So it’s Griff’s lucky day.
“Ain’t this the life baby-doll?”
Gloria shifted the girl in her lap, and stretched her torso. She leaned back again, pulling Jess along with her.
The summer sun beamed its benediction on the women of Camp Fist. There was a lazy siesta atmosphere, this second day. There was less frantic activity, as the women let go of the sense of frustration and felt a measure of satiety instead.
Tomorrow, Jessamine and Gloria would have to saddle up the Harley and take off to their next destination. But right now, they could bask in the warm air and watch the show.
There was still plenty to see; One woman was being flogged on the big “X” cross, and another against one of the pillars of the open lodge. Near by, an oriental rope bondage demonstration was holding the attention of a half-dozen women. The girl’s sun dress was bunched up between the interstices of the white rope. The top threw the ends of four ropes over the beam, and willing hands grabbed and tugged. The girl gently, magically, rose to midair, comfortable and helpless. Jessamine sighed in admiration.
But Gloria was looking elsewhere. “That kid has the hots for you.” she commented.
Jess looked around, and felt the thrill in her stomach as she recognized the woman; “The bottom that whipped you yesterday.”
“The boy that boned you last night.” Gloria retorted.
Jess remembered, vividly. The graceful action as she wielded the singletail. And then, later, the immobilized body under her, the frustration and rage in the dark eyes. Jess, straddling her harnessed hips, had taken pity and leaned down to kiss the straining mouth, and been rewarded by a whimper. The girl was a hell of a kisser, too, she remembered.
At the moment, she was sitting cross-legged on a trade blanket.
“What’s she selling?” Gloria asked lazily. “Go shopping, why don’t you?” She pushed Jess to her feet. Jess wandered over to the blanket.
“Hi” she said.
The girl looked up, and- surprisingly- blushed.
“Oh… hi!” she said, and fell silent, shading her eyes against the sun.
“I’m Jessamine” She dropped to the blanket. “What are you selling?”
“Um… I’m Griffin… I make these… Turn them by hand…” Griff seemed to have forgotten her sales pitch entirely. Jess smiled encouragingly, and Griff blushed darker.
She was older than Jess had thought at first. Her state of undress showed a lanky, fit body clad in deeply tanned olive skin- smudged and streaked with clay and dust. She wore a simple harness that outlined her small breasts, a pair of dusty black chaps with no jeans
underneath. Her exposed ass and pubes were harnessed with a dildo strap, and a black silicone dildo showed an ever-present erection to the world. Her bike boots were encrusted in mud. Her wrists and forearms were wrapped in locked cuffs, her collar glittered with spikes set into gleaming steel plates- the only article that was clean. Her wide flat mohawk, intimidating in of itself, accentuated her delicate cheekbones and the sweetness of her mouth. Jessamine found this paradox enticing.
She looked down at the articles on the blanket. “Oh, they’re really nice!” she exclaimed. She picked one of the phalluses up, admiring the shimmering grain and the elegant shape. “Do you really make them?”
“Each one by hand.” Griff had a soft voice. “So each one is unique. You’ll find your perfect…” she trailed off, staring at Jessamine.
“perfect?” Jessamine prompted.
Griff shook herself; “perfect fit.” She finished.
Jessamine giggled. “Oh?” Wickedly, she pulled her skirt up to her waist, exposing her own pussy. “Which one do you think would fit me?”
“Uh.” Griff whispered. She licked her lips, and raised her eyes to meet Jess’s.
“See anything you wanna buy?” Gloria said, and stomped onto the blanket. “What are you looking at, boy?” her boot shoved Griff in the chest and knocked her flat onto her back. Griff pulled herself up again, long legs unfolding as she scrambled out of range. Gloria strode forward again.
“You looking at my girl, punk?” she demanded.
“Fuck, yeah.” Griffin said. She rolled away from the kick Gloria aimed at her and scrambled to her feet. “I was looking right at her pussy.” She grinned, with a flash of white teeth. “I saw it last night, too.” she added. Gloria shot out a long arm and grabbed Griff’s harness, pulling her close.
“Listen, asshole,” she began, and trotted the butch backwards, so that Griffin had to windmill her arms to keep upright. A few steps took them out of Jessamine’s earshot.
“Yeah, and you didn’t get your rocks off, did you?” Gloria said. “I felt kinda bad about that, buddy.”
Griff looked up in surprise; her fists were balled in preparation for a real brawl.
“I just talked to the Baroness, and it’s okay with her if you go around with my girl one more time… So I have one question for you. How do you wanna play it, as her top or as her bottom?”
Griffin’s jaw dropped. “Shit.” she said huskily. “Um… I don’t care, Gloria, I swear, whatever she wants is great…”80