Steps to Submission Volume 4: Virgin Lesbian Erotic Romance (Steps to Submission Bundles) Read online
Steps to Submission Bundle 4
A Kinky Virgin Lesbian Erotic Romance
By Lexie X
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2016 by Lexie X
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This bundle includes books sixteen through twenty of Steps to Submission:
Piper's Humiliation
Piper's Choice
Isabella's Choice
Isabella's Teacher
Piper's Temptation
Also by Lexie X
Serena's Submission
Foreplay
Dominated
Passion
Breaking Nicole
The Locket
Emma's Hypnosis
Lydia's Hypnosis
Gwen's Hypnosis
Novels
Lynn's Craving
My Roommate’s Girlfriend
Seduction Games
Sorority Seductions
Tempting Jennifer
Anthologies
Virgin Lesbians: Erotic First Time Stories
Virgin Lesbians II: Erotic Stories of Seduction
Virgin Lesbians III: Sapphic First Times
Virgin Lesbians IV: Kinky First Times
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
About the Author
Works by Lexie X
Free Preview: Piper’s Crush (Steps To Submission #21)
***
Chapter 1
Awoken groggily from sleep, Piper turned over uncomfortably only to find someone climbing on top of her in the dark. "Isabella?"
The blonde's warm breath rolled across her face rife with the smell of alcohol. "Let's fuck."
"Did you go out drinking?" she exclaimed, pushing her girlfriend off. "It's Thursday night!"
"Hanging with our new roomies, that's all," Isabella slurred.
The open door swung further. Another person entered the room and slammed the lights on as she did so. "Heyyy!" Savannah stood swaying by the door. "You went in the wrong room, Izzie!"
Piper frowned.
"Maybe I want to sleep in Piper's room," Isabella responded. "This bed looks comfortable."
Savannah came further in and sat on the other half of the bed.
Cornered by the two drunk blondes, Piper turned her frown into a grimace. "Where'd you two go tonight?"
"Just a bar or two, no dancing," Savannah said with a laugh. "You should have come out with us!"
"I have class in the morning."
"What's a skipped class or two?" Isabella countered.
"You're going to skip class now too?" Piper asked, genuinely concerned. "What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing!" Isabella stood and sauntered toward the door. "Come on, Savannah, let's let her sleep."
"Want to go dancing this weekend?" the other blonde asked her captive roommate.
Piper gave in. "Sure."
"Great! It's a date."
At that, Isabella laughed loudly. A moment later, they both stormed out of the room. Stumbling up, Piper turned off the lights, locked her door, and fell back into bed with a dark cloud over her heart. After a sigh, she got up again and unlocked the door before hopping back under the covers.
She awoke to a hand lightly grasping her throat.
"They're asleep now, and the door's locked," Isabella whispered, her words a bit clearer even if her breath still smelled like liquor.
"Maybe I'll just moan loudly this time," she responded, tired of being kept a secret. The first two weeks of school had already passed and the blonde still had yet to decide what to do about telling their roommates about their relationship.
The hand around her throat tightened, nearly cutting off her air. The command was simple and direct. "You won't."
Moving her legs in darkness, Piper realized that her girlfriend was on top of her above the covers with her knees to either side. Her own slight squirms gave away her instinctual reaction to the choking and denigration—she hated that being treated that way only turned her on, and she hated that Isabella knew it.
"Stay under the covers," the blonde ordered quietly while moving forward. She pinned her captive's arms by placing her knees at the edge of the blankets.
Bound completely in place by tight covers that left only her head exposed in darkness, Piper realized what her drunken girlfriend wanted as the blonde's bare thighs descended on either side of her face. The barest hint of fabric brushed her forehead—the edge of a shirt. Were her panties and skirt somewhere on the floor, or had Isabella crossed the apartment half-naked? She had no time to ask. A rough hand gripped her hair and pulled her face forward.
Finding her nose pressed against soft slickness, she angled her head to bring her chin up. With her body bound in place by the blankets, she was forced to rely purely on her mouth. Giving those slick smooth lips a few pressed kisses, she worked her way up her girlfriend's warm slit. Her own body mirrored the warmth and wetness she found along the way, filling her thighs with a growing heat made intense by the tight covers.
Isabella pulled her hair harder, bringing a sharp pain. "Use your tongue," she commanded, keeping her voice just above a whisper. "I want you to get off to licking me."
Not quite believing herself, Piper gave a meek reply. "Then pull my hair harder."
"Oh?"
The subsequent pull nearly brought tears to her eyes and she found herself gasping lightly with pain and pleasure.
"Quiet!" came the next order. Isabella squeezed her thighs together.
Bound tightly by blankets, her head caught in a vice between two flexed thighs, her hair gripped to the point of pain, Piper gave in to the wave of humiliated excitement flooding through her. She'd been angry with Isabella, but, now, that anger's impotence only served to arouse her. Unable to resist her own fiery urges, she parted her lips and slid her tongue up between her girlfriend's waiting labia.
She knew she was lost the moment that familiar addictive sweetness hit her senses. Immediately sinking back into that warm, wet, and intimate world that had come to be the foundation of her life, she closed her eyes and let the trained bliss radiate in her head and between her legs. Her body responded pre-emptively to that which a year of sex and obsession had taught it to anticipate. Tensing her thighs, she worked herself in that difficult sideways pattern of stimulation that sometimes allowed her to get off without directly touching herself. Thrusting her tongue deep, she enjoyed the intimate folds within and the little shiver her penetration caused above. Silken walls squeezed her tongue as Isabella clenched her inner muscles, and she pushed harder against that resistance. Somewhere in the darkness above, the blonde gasped a little, and then cut herself off as she remembered the need for quiet.
Opening her eyes despite seeing almost nothing, Piper found a focus for her resentment and lust: she would force her girlfriend to scream or moan and give away their relationship. Savannah
was surely passed out drunk on the other side of the apartment, but Maisy's room was just through the wall. Spreading her mouth wide, she lightly took Isabella's smooth mound under her rounded lips. While sucking gently with her entire mouth, she put the strength of her neck behind her tongue and pressured her girlfriend's clit with repeated licks. Isabella's thighs tensed harder around her head, and the grip in her hair grew more painful.
Sensing she was on the right track, Piper moved her mouth down slightly to use her upper lip against Isabella's clit. Pressing her chin deeply into her girlfriend's sex, she thrust her tongue in as far as she could and then curled it upward to press against a little spot she knew very well. Isabella's inner walls responded by clenching instinctively around her tongue, and the blonde herself had to use her free hand to keep herself from squealing.
Charged up by the intimate reactions of the feminine body sitting on her face, Piper had to use all her focus to keep her difficult tongue maneuvers going while the pleasure in her own body began intensifying. Keeping her tongue penetrating squeezing silken walls was tiring, but she was determined.
Above her, Isabella tensed her tummy tightly, and an involuntary gasping moan followed. Immediately, she grabbed a pillow, brought it to her mouth, and bit down on it furiously—but the sound had been unmistakable, and a few creaks radiated through the wall as Maisy shifted in her bed.
Had she heard? Intent on making sure she did, Piper fought through the pain and rising pleasure to strengthen the efforts of her tongue.
Isabella gave a muffled scream into her pillow. Her thighs squeezed together painfully around her captive's head, and she bent forward against the wall.
For nearly a minute, Piper kept her girlfriend in a state of ecstasy, forcing a series of muffled squeals and moans out of her. The close intimate heat and sopping wetness of a gorgeous girl getting off against her face would normally have been enough to kick off her own orgasm, too, but she held back to keep her focus.
Finally, Isabella lifted one leg and fell to the side. Curling up next to her captive, she took several minutes of ragged breathing to recover.
Piper waited, burning at the edge of need, but Isabella got up, slid her shorts on in the darkness near the bed, and then snuck back out without a word. Frustrated, miffed, and unceremoniously left to her own devices, Piper pushed her blankets off and freed herself from her cocoon prison.
She'd always shared a dark twisted bond with Isabella that often involved humiliation and torture, but, during the last two weeks, the blonde really been pushing the line; her drunken assault and abandonment no longer felt twisted or arousing.
It just seemed plain mean.
And yet, she was already worked up enough to keep going. Reaching a hand down her tummy along a sheen of sweat brought forth by the tight blankets, she slid her fingers underneath her panties. Already soaked and heated, she wasted no time, and began rubbing her own mound at a rapid pace. Her thoughts focused on the scent, taste, and feel of what she'd just done with her tongue. Her girlfriend's soft body, perfect pink sex, and beautiful little reactions to pleasure fueled her fantasies.
Did Isabella still feel the same way?
They'd shared such an incredible summer. It'd basically been a three-month sex holiday for all the fooling around they'd done. Isabella had even got really into it—truly enjoying her body and pleasuring her in return. But what had Jessie said the other day? A straight girl is still a straight girl no matter how much pussy she eats?
She desperately didn't want that to be true, but the thought of Isabella growing cold and distant hurt her, and that pain greatly augmented the pleasure coursing through her body at the behest of her rapidly rubbing fingers.
It would devastate her if their relationship was to end, but would Isabella still use her as a slave the way they'd started out a year ago? It filled her with immense pain and enormous pleasure to think about how emotionally crushed she'd be—and yet, still unable to say no, and still weirdly proud to be such a gorgeous blonde's secret pussy licker.
She could imagine Isabella going out to the club and dancing with friends or out on a date with some guy and then coming back for quick, callous, and emotionless relief against her waiting fingers and tongue; fingers and a tongue that were still eager despite the enormous convoluted pain in her heart.
As she built the pressure of her bliss to incredible strength, nearly an explosion waiting to burst inside her, another of Jessie's warnings occurred to her: wasn't this exactly what Isabella had set out to do? Turn her into a willing slave to the mere chance of getting at a girl's intimate slickness? Make her crave the act, make her addicted to licking pussy?
And that was another thing that Isabella had said: she'd even know about it, know that it had been purposefully done to her, and know the painful inescapability of her situation, and she would still like it. Isabella had stated all this, and, somehow, that was exactly where she found herself: completely and utterly powerless.
The orgasm tore through her with a searing intensity, burning her muscles and setting her nerves afire. Thrashing up and down in bed, she bucked against her own hand and soared up into pure bliss. Desperate for breath, she panted hard and then clamped her mouth shut to keep from moaning.
Almost at her limit, she realized with amazement and fear that her body was ready to offer up another orgasm before the first had even fully ended. Focusing on how painfully powerless her fantasy made her feel, she really let the humiliation and agony hit home, which sent her exploding pleasure to a whole new level, blanking out her thoughts and shrinking her world to nothing but rubbing fingers, pulsing ecstasy, and shame.
"Piper?" someone asked from her open door.
Immediately she forced herself down to the bed and pulled the covers up, her entire body burning with the pain of interrupted orgasm.
It was Maisy, standing in nearly impenetrable gloom. "You ok in here?"
She let her heart beat a few more times before she felt confident in speaking. "Yeah?"
"I thought I heard Isabella moving around," she explained, speaking just above a whisper. "I noticed she's been pretty mean to you. I thought you two were friends and already knew each other before moving in here?" She made to enter.
"No. I mean yes. We're fine, I think," Piper blurted, trying not to sound like she'd just gotten off in an incredible way—twice. "She just didn't realize which room was hers because she was drunk."
"Oh."
A moment of confused silence passed.
"Alright," Maisy finally said. "Good night."
Just before she turned back into her own room, she paused briefly.
Piper hoped, quite fiercely, that her roommate hadn't noticed the seemingly blatant smell of sex.
***
Chapter 2
Caught in a maelstrom of invisible emotion, Piper found herself trekking across campus in response to a text message just like she'd done so many times the year before. She wore a backpack ostensibly for class, but really carrying smuggled toys; she walked with a neutral face, wondering if everyone she passed somehow knew she was really on her way to service Isabella.
How had it come back to this? What had been the point of falling in love and working through all those hard times if their relationship was just going to go back to square one like this? The secret embarrassment of the walk hadn't changed, either: she would be getting on her knees and pleasuring a girl shortly, and she felt like it was written all over her face.
The apartments she sought were much like her own. Walking a large circle for a few minutes to find the number she'd been texted, she approached and knocked cautiously. A familiar face answered the door.
"Hey," Julie said, hardly looking at her. It wasn't embarrassment that kept the long-haired redhead from making eye contact; rather, she was cold, superior, and distant.
Walking in meekly, Piper observed a living room much like her own but with some major differences. Two couches sat at a ninety-degree angle to one another, both facing a televisi
on. The kitchen here was set back a bit and formed its own space rather than sharing an island with the living room.
Isabella sat on one of the couches with a textbook and notebook in her lap and a pen in her hand. A tattooed and generally sullen-looking girl sat on the other couch idly watching a show.
"Finally," Isabella commented, ignoring her girlfriend's obvious discomfort at the presence of the stranger on the couch. "You certainly took your time." She pointed. "Go in there, that's Julie's room."
Julie led the way, but Piper hesitated. "Aren't you coming…?"
Isabella tilted her head slightly. "Oh, I'm loaning you out to Julie tonight. Just a small favor between best friends."
Red-faced with confused humiliation, Piper looked over at the other girl on the couch, but the stranger didn't seem to care about their conversation at all. Stammering, she recalled a now-ancient promise. "You said no more doing Julie."
"You didn't have any problem fucking her this summer," the blonde replied calmly, returning her attention to her books. "I've got to study, but I'll be reviewing the video later to make sure you do everything Julie commands."
Full of panic, Piper followed the redhead into her room.
"Nothing fancy," Julie commented, placing her phone upright on a dresser. "Just recording with this."
Practically shaking, she thought about protesting the filming—but part of her still clung to Isabella's connection to the act. If there was no video for the blonde to review later, she wouldn't be involved at all, and Piper was desperate for any sort of caring or interest from her girlfriend at this point.
"Who was that tattooed girl in the living room?" she asked instead, trying to stall.
"Oh, one of my roommates," Julie replied, peeling back the blankets from the bed. "She's hard of hearing."
Well, that made sense, then—but how hard of hearing was she? The girls had talked pretty clearly in front of her about loaning someone for sex. Or had they simply not cared if she heard?