Chapter 3: Bad Dreams

“I’m telling you, she’s a nightmare,” I say as I put down Carl’s plate of food in front of him on the dinner table.

“She can’t be that bad,” he says dismissively before taking a large and sloppy slurp of pasta.

“She can. She is. I’m telling you; I’m worried about Maria’s safety.”

“You’re talking like she’s in an abusive relationship.”

“She might be,” I say while trying to use my spoon to help with my noodles. I could never figure this part out.

“With a woman?”

“Women can be abusive, too.”

Carl lets out something that’s a cross between a snort and a laugh.

“It’s not funny,” I reprimand.

“And to be clear, you don’t mean physically abusive, right?” he asks.

“Right. Psychologically or something.”

“Maybe Maria’s into it.” He shrugs and takes another oversized bite of pasta. Red sauce flicks over his lips and shirt. I offer him a napkin. He refuses.

“She’s not. That’s my point. It’s been a few weeks. No one goes from straight to bi that fast.”

“Maybe she was always —"

“And no one goes from normal Maria into weird kink/fetish Maria in two weeks. I’ve known this girl forever. This is not her thing.”

“Okay. Okay. Can we just drop it? You’ve been going on about Maria and Reyna ever since you got home.”

I sigh. He’s right. I need to let it go. The rest of the day at work my mind was spinning. Between the horror of Maria being some sex slave and the fantasy of June worshipping Reyna, it was a complicated day.

“I know. I’m sorry. It just really freaked me out.”

Of course, I don’t tell Carl about June. I don’t know how he’d react to that story. Did I like watching June? Would he think I’m gay? Would he be really into it and want me to do it more? Would he be disgusted? None of that sounds appealing.

And of course, I also don’t tell him where my panties went. He won’t notice they’re missing, but I can’t explain to him where they went or how they got into Reyna’s hands. Best to avoid that whole topic of conversation.

“How was work today?” I ask, trying to bring the conversation back to him so he’ll participate.

“Fine.”

“Anything interesting happen?”

“Not really.”

“Oh.”

I try the spoon thing again, but eventually I abandon it. Forks are easier. I like forks. Forks it shall be.

“What did you want to do tonight?” I ask.

“I figure we could watch something. A low-key night.”

“Right. Anything in mind?”

“Nah. We’ll find something.”

“Okay.”

We fall into a steady rhythm of silverware scratching and clanking against dishes. Carl slurps his noodles and adds a new color pattern to his shirt. I try to offer him a napkin a few more times, but he refuses each time. He gets a second helping, while I slowly and deliberately stir my noodles, letting my thoughts get the better of me.

Reyna’s words to me. The promise I would one day come to her. The teasing about what I am: a woman who worships or a woman to be worshipped. June’s number still in my pocket. My beauty. June attracted to my beauty. All of it swirls around me and haunts me. And those eyes. Her amber eyes. I catch them in mirrors and in strange women walking down the street. What is she?

“Carl?”

“Yeah?” he asks from the kitchen.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?” I ask slowly.

I hear the clatter of him placing his dish on the counter in frustration.

“Sarah …” he sighs.

“What?”

“We have this conversation all the time.”

“So?”

“Well, if I haven’t convinced you before, what makes you think this time will be different?”

“I just need to hear it,” I say. It’s pathetic.

“Of course, you’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I don’t push him. It’ll just make him mad. I’ve run out his patience. And it’s not him. He says I’m pretty all the time. The problem is me. I know it’s me. The words all bounce off me. Am I beautiful? Beautiful like Reyna? Her dark skin and dark hair. Her thin face and full figure. Would Carl trade me for her? Of course, he would. Maria did. I would.

“I love you,” I say weakly.

“I love you too,” he says automatically.

He finishes. I finish. I clean up. He sets up Netflix on the TV. I change into my PJs (with fresh panties) and join him. He picks a comedy. We laugh. It rolls on into the next episode. We keep laughing. I make popcorn. He has a beer. It’s simple, but it’s elegant. It’s home. It’s easy and peaceful.

After his third beer, his hand starts to wander. I’m tired now. I have work in the morning. We’ve been in front of the television for three hours. He could have made his move at any time before that. But I don’t stop him.

His hand moves from my knee up my thigh. He knows I’m sensitive there and starts to draw small circles over my pajamas. The circles get smaller and smaller and move further and further down between my legs. I feel the heat and let my body unfurl from our cuddling. He takes it as an invitation and leans into me, filling the gaps. He turns off the TV and turns to face me.

I run my hands through the scruff of his beard. His face is soft and round. He’s a big guy, over six feet tall. But that’s what I love about him: there’s so much of him to love. I kiss him softly at first, but he presses into me, hungry. His hunger fuels mine, and I crash back into him. He crawls on my lap, and I let his hands roam over my stomach while I hold the back of his neck.

“You know,” I say between kisses, “we have a bedroom.”

“Too far,” he says with a smile. I laugh and kiss him deeper. His hands roam up and start to find my chest. I’ve always had huge boobs, and Carl works to give them the attention they deserve. He’s a little too quick to find my nipples though, and it feels more like someone is pawing at my tits rather than teasing them for a reaction. They deserve to be teased, to have the sensation drawn out over hours of torture.

I can’t help but think of June’s nipples. Are they already pierced for Reyna? Was she a good slut and did she get them pierced as soon as possible? Does that mean Reyna owns her now? If she left with Maria, I can assume Reyna’s already had taste after taste of June’s tits. Are Maria’s nipples pierced, too? I couldn’t tell through her shirt today, but I looked. Trust me, I looked. Maybe Maria isn’t owned yet. Maybe there is hope for her. Or maybe she isn’t a slut like June. Maybe Reyna only pierces sluts.

I feel heat build in my panties. Carl is fumbling with my shirt, struggling to get it off. The heat isn’t from him. It’s June and her slutty ass showing off for me. It’s Maria and her perky tits pierced. She cries in pain and Reyna licks her lips. It’s Reyna watching over Carl and me, watching him try to make love to me like a moron, and she’s laughing. Reyna’s laughing at me; I know she is.

I shut my eyes. She’s not here. She’s not in my head. She doesn’t control me. She isn’t going to win.

I open my eyes. Carl is staring at me. My bra is off, and my hands are covering my tits. Shit. What happened?

“You okay?” he asks. The concern in his voice is genuine.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure? You went somewhere in your head there.”

“Yeah.”

“What were you thinking about?”

He takes his weight off his knees and slides off my lap. He slips off the couch and sits in front of me, but he’s so tall we’re still eye to eye.

“I don’t know. My mind kind of blanked.”

“Oh,” he says. We both know this means we’re done. It’ll be a cold night for both of us.

“Why are you covering your nipples?” A smile fills his face. He’s trying to make the best of it for both of us. “It’s not like I haven’t seen them before.”

“I know. I was just thinking,” I start, but my sentence doesn’t go anywhere.

“Thinking what?”

“Um,” I chew my lip to stall for time. Hopefully, my cuteness is a distraction.

“Don’t try to use your cuteness as a distraction,” he says. Shit. Carl reaches down and gently pulls my hands away from my breasts. “What are you thinking about?”

“It’s embarrassing. Never mind.”

“Tell me,” he says, his voice is firm.

“I was just wondering …” I lead.

“Yes?”

“What you thought about …”

“Yes?”

“Nipple piercings?”

Carl leans back and lets out a laugh. I feel my face burn with embarrassment.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“That’s all?”

“Yes,” I pout. “Why is it so funny?”

“Because it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“I thought you were going to tell me you were gay or something.” He laughs more and moves away from me to sit on the couch and keep laughing at me.

“I didn’t know how you’d respond.”

“To a nipple piercing?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not a big thing.”

“Well, to some guys it might be.”

“And you think I’m one of those guys?”

“Well,” I hesitate. Carl is an incredibly understanding and compassionate guy. I knew he wouldn’t care about nipple piercings. But I care. “No. You’re not like that.”

“That’s right.”

“But you didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“What do you think about nipple piercings?” I ask.

“On you or in general?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Oh, well. I’m not really a huge fan.”

“Really? I thought guys thought they were kinky or something.”

“Maybe some guys. But not me.”

“You wouldn’t like them on me?”

“Probably not.”

“Why not?” There’s an edge to my voice that I don’t intend. I guess I started off completely ambivalent to the question. I’m not sure where it even came from, but now I’m invested. I know he’s not against it. He’s apathetic. But that’s what bothers me. I don’t want him to be apathetic. I want him to want me with pierced nipples, but I can’t imagine why.

“Because I feel like they turn off access to your nipples. I love your nipples.”

“It doesn’t turn off access. It could —"

“It’s like torturing them. I don’t want them tortured.”

“But it could —"

“It’s just not something I’m into, babe.”

And like that, I’m done. I hate when he calls me babe. And I hate when he won’t listen. And I hate when he interrupts me. Because nipple piercings could increase nipple sensitivity. And if he loves my nipples so much, he should enjoy them being pierced and what the piercings could do to them.

“Oh,” I say. “Okay.”

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

“There must have been some reason.”

“There really wasn’t.”

“Sarah …”

“I was just curious. But it’s fine. I’m going to head to bed.” I get up, put my shirt back on, and head into the kitchen to wash the dishes before bed.

“Yeah, fine.” Carl gets up and heads straight for the bedroom. I hear him brush his teeth while I clean up and then I hear him go into the bedroom.

I get out my phone and pull up Maria’s number. I want to call, but I don’t know what to say. I want a friend who I can process this with and who will believe me that Reyna has done some fucked up shit to Maria and to me. But there’s no one. I send a text to Maria anyways.

Me: Hey

I wait a few minutes and finish cleaning up. But I don’t wait long before I hear my phone vibrate with a text from Maria.

Maria: Hey

Me: You up?

Maria: Obviously

Me: I didn’t think you’d answer

Maria: Well, I did. : )

Me: Cool

Maria: What’s up?

Me: I just needed a friend

Maria: You want to come over?

Me: To your place?

Maria: To Reyna’s. I’m at her place right now.

Me: She’s letting you text?

Maria: She’s not a bitch, Sarah.

Me: Right. Sorry.

Maria: It’s fine

Me: I just figured you two would be busy

Maria: Well, we sort of are …

Me: ??

Maria: She’s eating me out right now

Me: WHAT??!!

Maria: Yeah.

Me: She’s eating you out while you text?

Maria: Yeah. It’s pretty hot.

Me: You know, you could always wait to text back till you two were done.

Maria: She told me to respond. She thought it would be fun.

Me: It’s gross.

Maria: You’re not as big as a prude as you think you are

Me: Is that you talking or Reyna?

Maria: Yes

Me: I imagine her tongue is making it hard to text

Maria: She says she thought it would be fun for you as well

Me: What?

Maria: We both know you like to watch

Me: I need to go. Bye.

I close the phone and put it on the other side of the room from me, like it’s filthy. What’s happening? What is Reyna after and how did she do this to Maria? This isn’t the Maria I know. This isn’t the fun but normal girl I’ve always known. She’s gone dark or something. And it’s Reyna. It’s all Reyna like a cloud of smoke and ash, spreading over everything, coating it in a sticky grey that will never wash off. Maria. June. My nipples. My soft and delicate nipples that need to be pierced. They need to be tortured and marked.

Shit!

I look at the clock. It’s almost three in the morning. Where did the time go? My panties are soaked. But that was from Carl, right? I must have dozed off. I need to get some sleep. I need to process this. I’ll think with a clearer mind tomorrow. I’ll talk to Jace, and we’ll make a plan. That’s fine.

I brush my teeth and change my panties. I slip into the far side of the bed. Carl is snoring loudly, but it’s nothing I’m not used to. Tomorrow will be better. I’ll sort it all out tomorrow.

*****

I feel something pawing at my breast over my shirt. It must be Carl.

“We need to makeup to have makeup sex,” I mumble.

“We need to fight to makeup, little Sarah,” purrs Reyna.

I bolt up and look around. Reyna is standing in the doorway. Maria and June are lying next to me. June is reaching for my breasts, almost pathetically, like a kitten. Maria is reaching for the waist of my paints.

But this isn’t my bedroom. I’ve never been in this place before. I’ve never been in this bed before. It’s a queen-sized bed with soft black sheets. I’ve never felt fabric so soft before. The room is a vibrant red, almost an orange. This isn’t Maria’s place. It must be Reyna’s.

And there she stands, in the doorway, in the same outfit she wore to the diner today. Her legs are crossed, and one arm is climbing up the doorframe. The light behind her stings my eyes, but I can see the damn smile on her face.

“And why would you want to fight this?” she asks.

“What’s going on?” I ask. I look down to see June and Maria’s desperate faces looking up at me. I swat away June’s hand and skootch back on the bed to get away from Maria. I can’t help but check their nipples. Nothing is pierced.

“We’re going to figure out what kind of woman you are.” Reyna snaps her fingers, and June and Maria move away from me and crawl to her feet on all fours. “Are you a goddess or a slut?”

“What?” I ask, rubbing some of the sleep from my eyes.

“There is an easy test. Look at my little June. Stand June.” June immediately stands facing me. Her face looks desperate and hungry, but she’s also proud of herself. “June is a slut. Isn’t that right, June?”

“Yes, Mistress,” beams June.

Reyna reaches into her bra and pulls out a tube of lipstick. It looks dark, either a maroon or purple or black. She takes off the top and spins the tube. Reyna grabs June and turns the poor girl to face her. Then Reyna takes the lipstick, and instead of applying it to June’s lips, she writes the word “slut” over June’s chest, right above her breast. June’s knees buckle and she lets out a whimper of delight.

“Thank you, Mistress,” says June.

Reyna pats June’s head condescendingly. “Good girl. Kneel.”

“Yes, Mistress,” intones June, and she obeys.

“See? A simple test. Such a good slut.” Reyna strokes June’s head and turns to Maria. “She is just like little Maria,” says Reyna. “Stand, slut.”

“Yes, Mistress,” says Reyna as she stands like June. She turns to face Reyna, but Reyna doesn’t write on her. Instead, she gives the lipstick to Maria and whispers in her ear. Maria smiles with delight and walks to the bed. I try to move away from her, but I’m all out of room.

“Maria, stop.” I beg. “Please.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, little Sarah,” giggles Maria. “Besides, this isn’t about you.” Slowly, she slinks onto the bed and crawls towards me. I can’t keep my eyes from her: her satisfied smile, her pale breasts dangling, pink and unpierced, or the way her hips sway like a cat coming to devour me. “I just need you to do me a favor,” she says when she finally reaches me. She sits on her knees and puts her weight on her legs.

“What?” I ask.

Maria hands me the tube of lipstick. “Will you mark me?”

“W-what?”

“Mark her,” says Reyna from the door. I look up and see the beautiful Hispanic woman has moved into the room, closer to us now. June’s head is beneath Reyna’s dress and the slurping sounds must be June eating out her mistress.

“How?” I ask.

“You know how. Tell her what she is.”

I look back to Maria, and she’s pouting. “Please, Sarah. Please mark me. You already know what I am, but I want you to label me. Please. Please tell me what a slut I am.”

I look at the pathetic mess that is my best friend. This is a girl who has been a rock of strength for me in my life. She has been the extravert who drug me out of my room and out of depression. And yet, right now, in this moment, I can’t argue with her. She is a pathetic slut. She’s sold herself to some dominatrix bitch. She’s begging me to write on her in lipstick. I saw her face earlier; she wanted to eat me out. She wanted to wake me up with her wet tongue sliding through my sticky cunt.

What a slut.

My hand reaches out on its own with the lipstick. As soon as the tip of it touches the space above Maria’s tits, she lets out a moan of delight. And then I decide, this is the most natural thing to do. Maria is such a slut. Everyone should know. It shouldn’t be a secret. I write in large dark letters the word “slut” on my best friend’s chest.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” asks Reyna. I look up. Reyna is on the bed, riding June’s face with her dress still on. I nod to her. It does. It feels good for the world to know what Maria is. “Yes, of course it does. You are so strong, little Sarah. You could be strong like me.” Reyna smiles at me, and I feel my pussy fill with juices. She starts to undulate and grind over June’s face like a belly dancer. June continues to slurp and lick. “Slut, do as I’ve asked you.”

At first, I can’t tell who she’s talking to, but then Maria gently takes the lipstick out of my hand. She reaches for my shirt and looks at me pleadingly. I understand immediately and let her take my shirt off. She ignores my nipples, though they are hard and desperate for touch, and reaches out with the lipstick above my right breast and starts to write. As Maria writes, Reyna says, “it is hard to be a slut and mark a slut. To mark a slut, you must be something more, you must be a goddess.” I can’t quite read the word, but I know what it is. Maria’s written the word “goddess” on my chest.

“And yet,” says Reyna. “There is another part of you.” As Reyna talks, Maria writes another word over my left breast. “The part that wants to be pierced. The part that gave me her panties. The part that wants someone else to be in charge. Not someone like Carl. Someone strong. Someone beautiful. Some goddess.” I look down, and above my right breast is the word “slut.” “Which are you?” asks Reyna. “You are so wonderfully complicated, little Sarah. You must decide which you are. Come tell me when you are ready.”

*****

I wake up shivering. It’s cold. The blanket is gone, and I’m covered in sweat. My hand is between my legs and my pussy is soaked again. It feels like there may be a puddle in the bed.

I bring my other hand to my chest and feel. The lipstick is gone, but I can still trace the words where they were. I can still feel them there. Slut. Goddess.

If you want access to more stories, access, and influence, find me on Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/trixieadara or Twitter @AdaraTrixie. You can also find the complete series on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/My-Best-Friends-Girlfriend-Collection-ebook/dp/B08G5BBXSK/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=my+best+friend%27s+girlfriend+trixie+adara&qid=1610463029&sr=8-1