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The author of this story (cactusjuggler) reserves all rights to this story--reproducing this story without the author's permission is prohibited.

Sticks and Stones
by Cactus Juggler (c) 7/12004


      I couldn't believe it when I saw her there on the campus of my university. It was actually her, Leslie Mielke. She was taller, but she was still the same slender brunette I remembered from grade school. The sight of her instantly brought back a shameful memory. A moment in time that I hadn't thought of for years flashed into my head. 

      * * * * * * * * * * 

      I was back in grade school. It was seventh grade. I've always been pretty. I was an early bloomer if you know what I mean. I wasn't just really popular, I was the queen of the popular clique. Even though I grew up in a fairly affluent suburb, I was a *bad* popular kid. I'd experimented with drugs and alcohol. I'd already given my first blow job. My circle of friends ruled the school. Everyone looked up to us. 

      There was the skinny dorky girl named Leslie Mielke. She was a grade ahead of me. She was one of those friendless geeky types who got good grades. She tried to be invisible as much as she could. In her class, the eighth grade group, there was this crazy black girl, Denise Williams, who was openly gay. She was this wild, happy, teenage lesbian. I never interacted with her much, but of course I'd gossiped about her a thousand times with my friends. 

      Anyway, one day just after school there was a bunch of us standing around behind the school. Denise and her strange friends were also nearby. Denise was giggling about something with her friends as Leslie approached. Suddenly, as Leslie passed close to her, Denise stepped out and stopped Leslie. Before Leslie knew what was happening, Denise wrapped her arms around Leslie and kissed her on the mouth! 

      Leslie was shocked. After a moment she realized what was happening. She pulled herself free of Denise. Denise and her friends laughed and laughed as Leslie ran off, humiliated by what Denise had done. 

      The next day, before school, Leslie wandered too close to where I was holding court with my popular friends. And then, well, you have to understand how I was back then. I was really cruel sometimes. I was usually not so bad when I was on my own, but I was rotten hen I had my regular audience to play to. So that day, when Leslie came by and all my friends were right there, I couldn't resist. 

      "Hey look, it's Leslie the lezzie!" I said, and my friends all snickered at her. 

      She just froze for a moment, and we all laughed at her. 

      "Leslie's a lezzie. Leslie's a lezzie." I started to chant. Sure enough, my friends all joined in. 

      Leslie ran off. We all laughed like it was the funniest thing we'd ever seen. We really were cruel to the weak kids. 

      That day after school, Leslie surprised all of us. I was sitting out by the playground where we all hung out for a half hour before heading home. Leslie suddenly appeared, striding forcefully towards me. 

      "Hey there lezzie, I mean *Leslie*." I said as she approached. 

      My friends snickered as I saw Leslie's eyes narrow. Leslie just threw herself at me! 

      "You bitch!" I heard her shout as she rode me to the ground. 

      I was shocked that the dorky girl had the spine to attack me. For a moment she was winning as she slammed me down into the ground. On top of me, she started to hit me with her open palms but with very little actual force despite her frenzy. She was a year older than me, but I was heavier than her by at least fifteen pounds. In no time, I rolled her off of me then I got the upper hand. Then I was the one slapping *her*. I smacked her a half dozen times as she started sobbing. She wasn't resisting at all any more. I climbed off of herm, and stood up, with my hands on my hips as I caught my breath. 

      "What the hell's gotten into you?" I asked her as I looked around at my cheering friends, all pumped up by my beating down the skinny dork. 

      Still crying, Leslie looked up at me with daggers in her eyes. Suddenly she lunged up off the ground and grabbed me around the legs. She was really weak, just a little string bean of a girl, so I was easily able to handle her kneeling assault. I grabbed her head in my hands and yanked her hair, pulling her head back. I was in my element, humiliating a little geek in front of my friends. 

      "Do you really want me to beat your ass lezzie?" I asked her. 

      "I'm not a lezzie!" 

      I looked around at my snickering cronies, then I looked back at her. Moving my hands down to the back of her head, I pulled her head forward into the crotch of my shorts. 

      "Then why are you down there?" I laughed, as she struggled helplessly to pull her face away from my crotch. 

      "Hey everybody. Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy." I laughed as I continued to jam her face against me. 

      The moment was pure evil, I can only imagine how humiliating it must have been for her. I left her there on her knees, crying while my friends high-fived me. It just increased my legend at the school. I was more popular than ever. 

      Every time I saw her for the rest of the year I gave her a rough time. Then the school year ended and she was gone. When I went to high school a year later I went to a different school than she did, so I didn't see her again. 

      * * * * * * * * * * 

      I hadn't thought of her for all those years, seeing her again that day brought it all back. I felt really awful. I was ompletely ashamed at my past cruelty. I was glad I didn't run into her face to face, I didn't know what I would have done if that had happened. 

      How do you apologize for something you did years ago as a child? If she recognized me, would she even want me to bring it up? Wouldn't that just be opening an old wound? I wondered about it as I watched her back disappear into the distance. Then she was gone. 

      * * * * * * * * * * 

      Over the course of the next couple of months, I saw Leslie a half dozen more times. The shame of what I'd done was starting to burn at me. When I was off the campus one day I saw her walking a block ahead of me. Something made me follow her. I decided that I had to apologize to her. I followed her quickly, trying to catch up. I was still a half-block back when she turned into a small apartment building. 

      When I got to the building I was relieved to find it had an unlocked lobby door. I pulled the door open and looked over the names on the mailboxes. Mielke, 3-C. 

      I was at her door a minute later. I still wasn't sure I was doing the right thing. I mean, I'd probably been cruel to a hundred kids in school, why did I feel so compelled to apologize to her. I knew that if someone had done to me what I'd done to her, I'd never want to talk about it *ever*. 

      In spite of all that I lifted a hand and rapped on her door. When the door opened and she saw me, her eyes immediately got wide. She definitely recognized me. She stepped back, whether out of fear or as an invitation, I didn't know. 

      "Hi. Leslie, my name is Alecia Palacio. Remember, we went to grade school together?" 

      "I know who you are." 

      "Can I come in for a minute?" I asked softly. 

      She didn't speak. After a long pause she nodded, then took another step back. I stepped inside and the door swung closed behind me. 

      "I just wanted to...to apologize for what happened back in grade school." I said, somehow making it sound as if I wasn't the cause, like it was just some random event. 

      "You want to apologize?" 

      "Yes, I'm really sorry. I was really cruel to you, and I'm really sorry." 

      "You're *sorry*?" She asked pointedly, as if I'd just said something really stupid. 

      "Yes." 

      "Do you have any idea what you did to me? Do you have any idea how awful it was to be a nobody at that school? To have that girl kiss me? When you said those things that morning I spent the whole day building up the courage to fight you. Do you remember what you did to me?" She asked, and her eyes started to tear up. 

      "Oh god Leslie, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I offered, and I was. 

      "When I was down on my knees do you remember what you said?" Her voiced quavered as the tears puddled in her wet eyes. 

      "I was just a kid Leslie, I didn't mean it." I tried to make the excuse but the words rang hollow in my ears. 

      "You said...'Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!' Something happened to me when you said that. After you left me there, crying on my knees, humiliated, I could still hear your words in my head." She sobbed and a fat wet tear streaked down her cheek. 

      I didn't know what to say. I felt awful then, like I was about an inch tall. How could I have been so cruel to this girl? 

      "And I kept hearing them, over and over again! 'Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!' Over and over again. I started to wonder if you were right. If I *was* a lesbian. Everywhere I went, *you* were there in my head! Your damn voice, laughing at me over and over again. Eating dinner, sitting in class, I even heard you when I was lying in bed at night! I kept hearing you in my head day after day and then the dreams started. I dreamed about you! Night after night! You know, I had my first orgasm . . . I had it fantasizing about you. You made me what I am. *You*!" 

      I was beyond flabbergasted. I was crushed. A few little words I'd said had ruined Leslie's life? It was all happening so quickly I didn't know what to do. 

      "I wanted to be with you so badly. I stalked you, you know. Day after day I heard your mocking voice, laughing in my head. 'Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!' And then I had to see you with that boy. I knew I couldn't have you, but I still followed you around. Even though I knew you weren't gay I still kept dreaming about you, fantasizing about you." She told me, and it looked like she was fighting hard to get her tears under control. 

      "You can't still blame me for this Leslie. That was six years ago! We were just kids." 

      She just ignored me and calmness seemed to come over her as her sobs subsided. 

      "I'm so fucked up I can't even be a good lesbian, you know. I only get excited by straight girls. Do you have any idea what that means? I have to beg straight girls to let me go down on them. I have to seduce them, get them drunk, do whatever it takes. And then, if they show any interest in me, or any other women, I just don't want them any more. There's no place in the world for a lesbian who *lives* for the chance to eat some straight pussy. You made me into this. I still fucking think about you when I masturbate! You evil fucking bitch! You ruined my life." 

      If there were any words that could make the situation better, I didn't have them. I just wanted to get out of there, and fast. I needed to run away from this shameful thing I'd done and forget about it forever. 

      "Leslie, you have no idea how bad I feel about this. If there was anything I could do to take back what I did, anything I could do to make you feel better--I would do it right this second. But I can't. I'm sorry. I'd better go." I told her. 

      Her clenched jaw relaxed a little. Her tongue whispered gently between her barely open lips. 

      "There is one thing." She said. 

      Then she took a step closer to me. I thought for a second she was going to attack me, but instead I was shocked to see her slowly sink to her knees! 

      "Leslie!" 

      "Please Alecia, you said yourself you'd do anything to make me feel better. You *owe* me this much." 

      I think a feather would have knocked me over then--I just froze. Leslie crawled closer to me on her knees. She reached up and took my hands in hers. She pulled my hands down to her head. Leslie looked longingly up at me through her tear-stained eyes. 

      "Do it like that day." 

      "What?" 

      "Do it, please! Do what you did and say what you said, just like that day!" 

      The look of desperate need on her face humbled me with its power. While I had gone on and lived my life, Leslie had been trapped in that day somehow. Her whole life had been turned upside down, and I didn't even realize it. I looked down at her and I couldn't tell her no. 

      I pulled her face gently forward into the crotch of my jeans. 

      "Harder." She urged, so softly that I barely heard it. 

      I pulled her face in tighter to my crotch. I felt a little heat grow down there as I did it. 

      "Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy." I said, softly myself. 

      It was hard to say it then, as an adult in private. How could I have been so horrible that day in school? How could I have done this perverted thing when I was just a kid? 

      "Louder." She urged again. 

      I pulled her face against my crotch a little harder. I took a deep breath. 

      "Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!" 

      She started kissing me, kissing the crotch of my jeans. I tugged her head again, even more roughly. 

      "Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!" I said it as loudly as I thought I could without her neighbors overhearing. 

      She kissed my crotch a dozen times more before her eyes turned to look pleadingly up at me. Her hands came up to my hips. She pulled herself away from the zipper of my jeans just enough to speak. 

      "Please Alecia, oh god please let me lick you. I'll make you feel so good, please please please." She begged shamelessly. 

      The spark of warmth in my crotch burned hotter then. I stood there on the brink. My hand strayed to my zipper and paused, and then I was about to tell her no. 

      "You don't have to be nice to me. Just use me. Please use me." She pleaded. 

      The spark had turned into a small *fire*. I unzipped my pants then popped the top snap. Leslie helped me pull my jeans down around my thighs. Before I could think to stop her, my panties were down around my thighs as well. My heart pounded in my chest and the blood roared in my ears. I tangled my fingers in her hair and pulled her face to my wet sex. The fire became a raging inferno as she meekly let me rub her face there. Her tongue slipped out and flicked against me, and I shook at the sensation. Her eyes looked up at me as I pulled her mouth hard against my center. I knew then what she wanted. 

      "Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!" 

      It drove her into a frenzy, she wiggled her hips and her tongue did things to me that I didn't know were possible. Leslie's tongue felt so good. 

      "Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!" 

      I was getting into it then, getting off on the power trip of rubbing my sex in a kneeling, submissive woman's face. It was awkward work for Leslie with my jeans in the way. I couldn't spread my legs very far, but Leslie let me jam her face into my sex as hard as I wanted. 

      "Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy! Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!" 

      Somehow I'd begun to hump against her, my hips thrusting my mound in her face with ever increasing vigor. My whole body was on fire with the heat of the moment. I realized that I was approaching climax in what had to be record time. The inferno between my legs took over my brain. I furiously humped her darting tongue. 

      "Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy! Loves my pussy! Oh fuck...loves my fucking pussy!" I moaned deliriously as I came, came with ferocious abandon on Leslie's face. 

      Her lapping tongue remained directly on target as I shook and quaked, lightly battering my nub in a way that made my orgasm somehow go on and on. I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. I barely managed the occasional grunt as I swear I became one with the universe for a minute--it was that intense. 

      And then it was over. I pushed her away. Her tongue still hungrily reached towards me as I forced her away from me. Shame washed over me then, replacing the joyous feeling of powerful release. Not only had I just had sex with another woman, I'd taken advantage of this girl. This girl that I'd screwed up so badly. I was doing up my pants when she started to cry again. And the sight of her kneeling there crying just made me feel even more horrible. 

      I couldn't look at her a moment more. My feelings danced all over the place, the hot flush of that incredible orgasm mixed with icy knowledge that I was an awful person. I just fled. I left her there softly sobbing. I practically ran I left so quickly. 

      * * * * * * * * * * 

      I had trouble sleeping that night. It took me until the next morning before I was able to put it behind me, to make myself stop thinking about the shameful thing I'd done, once again, to Leslie. 

      Flashes of it came back to me as I went about my day. Flashes of how intensely powerful I'd felt using her. Insane little flushes of arousal at the thought of the perverse thing I'd done. I'd actually let another woman lick me. Moreover, it had felt so wonderful and I'd loved it. 

      Was I a lesbian? I had a date with my boyfriend Chris planned for that night. I was still interested in him. More than interested, I couldn't wait to get him alone. I was pretty sure that Chris was going to get *really* lucky that night. So what did that make me? If I wasn't a lesbian, was I bi? 

      I continued to think about it as I prepared myself for our date. I was so horny I didn't want there to be a chance Chris wouldn't get the idea. I put on that little black skirt I'd bought but always thought was just a bit too slutty to wear. The tight white top I put over it showed off my cleavage nicely. My hair and makeup were perfect, and as I looked approvingly at myself in the mirror I knew that Chris would practically cum in his pants at the sight of me. 

      I picked up my keys and tossed them in my little black purse. I was nearing the door to leave when I heard a knock. 

      I opened it to find Leslie standing there. Seeing her brought everything that I was trying to stifle in my head back to the forefront. 

      "Can I come in?" She asked softly. 

      "Leslie, I...I was on my way out actually." 

      "Please." She almost moaned the word, and somehow I knew exactly what she was asking. 

      It was time for me to go meet Chris. Yet I couldn't just turn her away. Part of me didn't *want* to turn her away. In fact, the part of me that didn't want to turn her away was starting to grow warm and...*damp* at the thought of not sending her away. I mean, it wasn't my fault she was like this. People had said mean things to me a million times and I'd never fallen apart. Why shouldn't I give in to the perverted urge I had, the urge to feel her eager tongue in my horny cunt. What I'd done might be wrong, but I didn't owe her anything. 

      "What? Does little lezzie Leslie want to eat my pussy?" I asked her crudely, and she looked up and down the hall nervously. 

      "Yes, please." Leslie whispered submissively. 

      I motioned her inside, closing the door behind her. It was time for me to go, but I could be a little late getting to Chris, he'd wait. I thought about what she'd said, about how she needed to service a woman who didn't enjoy having lesbian sex. 

      "You are so disgusting. I turned you into this, huh?" I asked her. 

      She nodded her head as I motioned for her to get down on her knees in front of the closed door. She sank to her knees and I reached up under my skirt to grasp my panties. 

      "Then I guess if it's my fault I should at least let you have what you want, as nasty as it is." I told her as I pulled down my then-damp panties and stepped out of them. 

      "Let's make this quick, my boyfriend is waiting." 

      I stepped closer to the kneeling Leslie. I took hold of her head with one hand while I lifted my skirt with the other. The fact that I could treat her badly--no, that she *needed* me to treat her badly, made me really hot. I stepped closer still and then I roughly pulled her head forward, jamming her face in my wetness. She inhaled deeply of my scent and gasped. Her obvious devotion to my pussy made me even hornier. I played with her head then, pulling it this way and that against me as I mashed my sex into her face. She wasn't licking me yet, she just knelt there and let me rub my wet pussy in her face. I knew what she was waiting for. 

      "Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!" 

      She gave a little mewling sound. Then Leslie started softly lapping at me. God was I a horny bitch then, drunk with the sense of power her submissive kneeling service instilled in me. 

      "Eat it, you nasty little slut. I don't have all night." I demanded, stepping forward so that her head was pushed back against the door. 

      Her tongue licked and probed at my folds, and every moment that she let me dominate her just gave me that much more perverted confidence. 

      "I'm normal. I'm going out with my *boyfriend*. That's what normal girls do, you sick little freak. But not you, oh no. Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy!" 

      It made me so hot, treating her like trash. With short, hard thrusts of my hips I slammed my sex into her thrusting tongue. 

      "Look at lezzie Leslie, she wants to eat my pussy. She really *loves* my pussy! Eat it! You disgusting little dyke!" 

      My breathing became labored as I really got into it, humping her face with the perverse abandon of a woman completely in control. 

      "Look..at...oh...lezzie Leslie...oh god...she...wants...oh fuck" I grunted the words with each thrust as I fucked her face with no thought of her feelings or comfort. 

      "...to...eat...my...oh!...pussy...She...*really*...*loves*...*my*...PUSSY!" I practically screamed as I came, the neighbors be damned. 

      I froze there, her head jammed against the door, shaking with the power of the orgasm. At some point Leslie's tongue left my clit and thrust itself deep into my wet center. We remained there in that twisted position for a minute or more before I finally regained the ability to move. 

      I stepped back away from her. I realized that she was crying again. Somehow I didn't care anymore. Degrading and humiliating Leslie felt so damn good. It was like I'd been transported back to the day in grade school myself. I was prettier. I was more popular. And most of all I could get away with doing this to her. So why shouldn't I? 

      Leslie knelt there softly sobbing while I looked around for something to wipe my slippery sex with. I picked up my cotton panties and wiped myself dry of the wet mixture of Leslie's saliva and my own lubrication. I felt so horny and in control then, it was liberating. 

      "Get up you sick little freak." I ordered her. 

      She got to her feet, still crying. I held out my soiled panties to her. 

      "Take these, you can sniff them when you touch yourself." I laughed at her. 

      Leslie took my offered underwear. The look of need and revulsion in her eyes was delicious. I'd reached a turning point then. I saw everything all at once for what it was. She deserved the years of humiliation and pain I'd caused her. She deserved it for being a pathetic little nothing of a person. I wasn't responsible for her weakness; only she could take that blame. A person with any spine at all would have shaken off my words for what they were--just words. I didn't feel guilt any more. I felt only a wicked pride in the perverse hold I now held over her. 

      "Get out." I demanded, and I followed her out into the hall. 

      I was flushed and a little sweaty from our encounter, but outwardly I still looked fine for my date with Chris. I shoved Leslie ahead of me and we rode the elevator down to the street in silence. She stood motionless outside the front door, tears streaming down her cheeks, and I just turned away from her and headed to where I was meeting Chris. 

      * * * * * * * * * * 

      I felt different somehow after that night. It wasn't just that I was incredibly horny, I felt a powerful sense of confidence I hadn't enjoyed since those days in school when I was the leader of the pack. 

      Standing in a bar with Chris and some friends, I had no underwear on under my skirt, something I'd have never done before. It didn't bother me though, I felt so completely in control. We'd only been in the bar an hour or so when I pressed myself up against him and gave him a deep kiss. As we kissed I pulled his hand down to the front of my short skirt and guided him to feel my hot pussy. His eyes opened wide with recognition as we broke the kiss. 

      "We're going back to my place. Now." I told him sternly. 

      "Yes ma'am." He said with a grin. 

      * * * * * * * * * * 

      Since then, I've been in charge of my life in a way I never knew was possible. Poor twisted little Leslie follows me around like a puppy dog, and I abuse her whenever the mood suits me. Chris isn't half as talented with his tongue. Even better, I've found another benefit to Leslie's twisted subservience. I've started making her pay me before I let her go down on me. 

      The improvements to my life don't end there. Tto my surprise I've found that Chris likes it quite a bit when I take charge. I haven't told him about Leslie yet, but I think I may show him my little toy some day soon. Maybe I'll make her watch while I fuck him, I'm not sure yet. I am sure that I'm going to have plenty of fun with both of them though. 

      It's funny the things you think of some times. Do you remember that old rhyme, 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me'? I think about it occasionally. I wonder if Leslie would agree. I really doubt it. Through some strange powerful moment in time, the names I'd called her had *destroyed* her. It's nasty little thoughts like those that make me smile these days, and I smile pretty often. Life, I thought to myself, could be a wonderful thing--if you were strong enough to take it. 

      
< - - A Wet Grin Urging I Story - - >

