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5: “Squeal II: The Art Of The Sequel”
The consensus re: the original story “The Art Of The Squeal” (Saga
3) was that a sequel indeed be in order. So while it may have taken me a while to get around to it, here it is. If you liked the playful bondage and torment elements in the original, I’m sure you’ll be fond of and pleased with this sequel. Enjoy, loyal Readers. I have loved being a part of your lives.
Home Away From Hell
Thursday, April 28th, 2016, 11:06 a.m.
Dawn, yet once more, had dawned. While still chilly here in the North Star State, each passing spring day grew lovelier—if a bit rainy here and there. Inside the stately Quibley manor now resided a 29-year-old strawberry blonde named Noelle Beckman, who in the past half-week had become one of the happiest young women on the kisser of planet Earth.
She slept in late and awoke for the fifth time, in her own immense room and correspondingly huge bed, laid with golden satiny sheets and pillows. She was stretched out on her belly in equally soft silk pajamas. It was all courtesy of her adopted “Aunt” Sylvia, who gave her the space and encouraged her to make it all her own. Sylvie would argue she was just as elated to have the girl in her home, if not more. While it had just been a couple days, Noelle thus far made Sylvia a great companion and playmate, someone with whom to have tons of fun together. She detected a knock on her door.
“Sweetie?” came the familiar voice.
Noelle smiled, keeping her peepers shut. “Mornin’, Aunt Sylvie.”
She heard Aunt Sylvia silently shut the door, shuffle in and over, and pet her mussed-up mane.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Mmm…” Noelle stretched out, rolling over on her back. “Fifth best night’s sleep of my life. I fuckin’ love it here so goddamn much.”
Sylvia’s heart swelled with pride and glee. Noelle’s guttery words aside, hearing her say such things made Sylvie so very happy. Now that she’d uprooted Noelle from that undesirable profession of hers—be it though the literal avenue that brought the two of them together—the girl’s demeanor had become only more and more delightful. As if while being a hooker, she had to maintain an air of acidity, toughness, and biting hostility. To avoid being taken advantage of or losing respect. Well, Sylvia hoped and believed Noelle knew that under her roof, she was treated with fondness and devotion. Noelle Beckman was her unofficially adopted niece now.
“Aw, babe…” Sylvia grinned. “You dunno how glad it makes me to hear that!”
She slipped her hand beneath Noelle’s jammie shirt and gave her a light raking tickle on the belly. Noelle chortled, wriggling on the mattress and reaching up to tickle her back. Before either of them knew it, Sylvia had climbed in with her and they were giggling like a couple of kids. When Noelle tired her out for the moment, Aunt Sylvie flopped over beside.
“Ah…” She kissed Noelle’s cheek and forehead. “No kidding, sweetie, I know it’s only been five days, but I love having you here too.”
They exchanged more honeyed pleasantries before letting calmness settle. Sylvie kissed her fingertip and ran it down Noelle’s nose.
“I know we gals aren’t supposed to like it when we hear this,” Aunt Sylvia said, “But that face really is so beautiful with a smile on it.”
“Aw…well, I could tell you wanted to make me laugh ever since you picked me up that night, the way, ever since, you’ve been telling me jokes and tickling me nonstop.”
Sylvie shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a big ol’ fun-lover. Speaking of which…”
She grinned, flipping her eyebrows at her.
“…Feel like a happy beginning, niecey?”
Noelle blushed, almost bursting out laughing. She knew what Aunt Sylvie meant by this. She was asking if she wished to start her day with a great orgasm, courtesy of Aunt Sylvie herself. She’d first sprung this proposition out of the blue on Monday. It was the second time they’d be intimate together. The idea was that Aunt Sylvia would give her a massage, led into by a wonderful climax (as opposed to culminating in a happy ending). Or they could just make her cum, skip the massage altogether, and go on to their next activity. And indeed, quite frankly, cushioned into a much less stressful life—to say nothing of practically sleeping on a cloud every night—Noelle didn’t really feel she needed the rubdown. She was really enjoying just hanging with Aunt Sylvie, watching TV, playing games, meeting and being waited on by the staff. Her new guardian angel hadn’t been kidding about the level of pampering she’d receive.
So Noelle rolled over, pulled open a bedside drawer, removed her swan-shaped viber, and handed it over. She then laid back nice and comfy, rested her head in the pillows, drew the cover to her chin, pulled the other end up to her waist, and slid her p.j. bottoms down. She left her white taksim escort panties on for the time being, snaked her hands back under the blanket, and folded them on her tummy. Eyes closed, lips smiling, she let Aunt Sylvie begin.
She warmed Noelle up by smoothing and pressing her digits softly into her inner thigh. Just as with a paintbrush in them, the mature lady’s 47-year-old paws knew what they were doing. And just as on Monday, Noelle delighted in the sensation of auntie’s soft, warm hands kneading her supple flesh. The past several days had also made her question her sexuality. Indeed, up to and including that fateful Saturday night when Sylvia Quibley came to her streetcorner, Noelle had believed she was a hundred percent straight. But what happened later that night forced her to reassess.
A woman had sent her through a mind-melting, red-hot motherfucker of an orgasm…with no one else in the room. No gentlemen were present. It was complete and total girl-on-girl action, Noelle’s first bona fide lesbian experience. And truly, it intrigued her. It had been on her mind a lot the past half-week. She’d never so much as considered being with a woman before, because…she supposed, the opportunity was never presented—or more accurately, thrust—before this point. It just went to show, at the brink of her 30s, she was still discovering herself, and the facets of her true nature. All she knew was that feeling Aunt Sylvie pleasure her pussy felt amazing.
Sylvia shifted position beside Noelle’s thigh, licked her fingers, and softly rubbed between said thigh and pussy, just beneath the edge of the panties. She heard Noelle let out a first gasp. She slipped her other hand’s fingers under the top of the fabric and fondled at the anterior, mildly stimulating the clit through its hood. Dominant hand under the panties, Sylvia aligned her middle finger with Noelle’s dampening slit, her ring and index with the labia. She applied pressure, urging Noelle to slide her head further back and begin moaning. With the left paw, she tugged down Noelle’s panties side by side. Then she made an announcement.
“Now do let’s play a little game, what say,” she said. “Aunt Sylvie says…tweak your nipples.”
Noelle smiled, reaching up from her belly to obey. Sylvia nodded.
“Very good,” she praised, rubbing her cunt. “Aunt Sylvie says touch your nose.”
Her niece again followed the direction, as Sylvia got her undies all the way down. Her left hand’s next task was to pick up the vibrator and position digits for the first setting. She nodded back to Noelle again.
“Good. Tug your earlobe.”
Noelle tugged her earlobe.
“Ah—! Aunt Sylvie didn’t sa-aaaaay!” she chided, wagging a finger.
“Aunt Sylvie’ll have to forgive niece Noelle if her faculties’re a little fucking compro-miiiiised!”
“Fair enough. Aunt Sylvie says twirl your hair.”
Noelle did as told. Her pussy moistened on Sylvia’s fingertips. Sylvia rubbed deeper. Noelle groaned.
“Good girl. Kiss your hand.”
Her bebanged playmate reflexively began to obey, but caught herself.
“Verrrrry good…” she heard Aunt Sylvie purr, activating the vibrator. “Very, very good. Now listen carefully.”
Sylvia spread her open, and made contact with the toy.
“Aunt Sylvie says…
“Say, ‘I want you to suck my clitty, Aunt Sylvie.'”
Noelle’s libido went insane. Her aunt’s words and tone doubled the vibrator’s effect. A wild surge of pleasure tore her inside and out.
“I want you to suck my clitty, Aunt Sylvie!” she cried breathlessly.
Sylvia grinned, reaffirming her grasp on Noelle’s inner cunt lips. She culled them ajar once more until she could see Noelle’s stiffening clit peek out. She began to feel her own special zones twitching awake.
“‘Atta girl. Here we go now; Aunt Sylvie says keep playing with your boobies…lie back…and let auntie handle the rest.”
Noelle did believe she could swing that. She returned her paws to her rising and falling tits, squeezed them, and shut her eyes.
The next several minutes took Noelle up a dozen plains before she approached the head-spinning euphoria. Sylvia rubbed the end of the vibrator up and down her wetter and wetter pussy, keeping her on its first setting until she felt Noelle was used to it. In between sucking and licking her clit, she put on her softest sensual voice and gave her some more “Aunt Sylvie says” commands, including purr like a cat, growl like a panther, and roar like a lioness. As Noelle was thinking Aunt Sylvie was quite an aficionado of the feline animal family, she felt the vibrator raised to its next setting.
Back went her head with another gasping cry. The passion began to sizzle and smoke inside her. She groped and grasped her tits. Her hands circled them repeatedly, one clockwise, one counter. Several of her sweat glands were activated, sticking her strawberry topkapı escort bangs sloppily to her brows. Her back arched, and her shaking feet stuck out of the ankle-pooled jammie pants, piggies curled over one another. Aunt Sylvie merrily poured on the pleasure, listening for each forthcoming sound of approval, wishing she had more hands so she could keep massaging Noelle’s thighs and palm her ass cheeks as well.
She felt the girl’s clit stiffen in her mouth, and her lips again curled into a smile, sucking harder. She heard Noelle croak out another familiar phrase, “God…fucking…” Sylvie shut her eyes fondly, remembering those two significant words the first night she’d taken the girl home, shackled her to her big leather mat, and gave her womanhood a taste of the tiny paintbrush. She didn’t want to do naughty things with the girl every day, which was why they’d skipped Sunday, and Tuesday and Wednesday as well. She didn’t want their intimacy to lose sparkle. So it was kept semi-sporadic, interspersed with activities that involved wearing clothes.
Noelle’s head burrowed further and further until it touched the headboard. She reached up and placed her palms against it, continuing to twist and writhe in throes of lust. She blazed inside and out, feeling her brain melt. Her Aunt Sylvie’s tongue technique altered between aggressive sucks and long, thorough licks ringing her doorbell. And Noelle thought she felt her flip up the vibrator to the next setting, and slip it further inside her—though that was tougher to discern by now. Her eyes rolled back, starting to see things in psychedelic technicolor. She began to want this orgasm, to the same level of desire she wanted most of them.
Sylvia carried on, slipping Noelle’s toy deeper inside all the while. She’d indeed taken it up several settings, and there was now only one left. Her niece was all but going insane, staying quiet if only to avoid drawing attention. A flattered Aunt Sylvie blushed, taking Noelle’s whisper-dulled howls as the compliments they were. She was equally pleased to look down and ascertain just how red and drenched Noelle was, the abundance of moisture all that kept her from bursting into flames.
Sylvie gently closed her teeth on her clit, making her lose it. Noelle grimaced and screamed. While thrilled with this reaction, her dear auntie couldn’t deny being a bit concerned as well. As enormous as the mansion was, a servant could still be passing by at any time. She didn’t want to stop, back off or tell Noelle to pipe down. So she decided it was time to bring the girl nigh climax and finish her off. She turned the vibrator to the maximum. Noelle spastically twitched and jerked, as if she were being electrocuted.
“OhhhhhGodFUCK!” came the next exclamation. Aunt Sylvie pushed up just a bit, straddled Noelle’s right thigh, and settled in to send her sublimely over the edge. Noelle flung tantrums and fists every which way, punishing the mattress. She flexed every muscle she could find, as she swore the bed and everything else disappeared, and stars started crashing all over her. It wouldn’t be long at all now. Her swollen, burning cunt clenched and squished on the vibrator, just about to discharge. Without even looking, Sylvia could tell her face was wordlessly crying out for release. It was time to give it to her. She held her clit in her teeth’s grip, smothered it in saliva and curled up the eponymous end of the vibrator to reach her g-spot. One poke at that fleshy ridge, and Noelle was off. Literally.
She felt the rocket light under her and blast her into oblivion. Forth spurted her cum, pelting all over Aunt Sylvie’s right paw. She looked down to see the fruits of her labor reaped, and both their days made. Noelle went on shrieking all the way to the end, until her coochie was drained, and the rainbow road to bountiful was traversed. Another trip to heaven and back, and beloved Aunt Sylvie’d once again coaxed her musty cum out. The equally beloved niecey’s shouts died down, as she settled in the afterglow, and almost fell right back to sleep. Sylvia removed the toy, performed some maintenance—feeling this cleanup job was more appropriate for her than for a maid or butler—blanketed Noelle’s bottom half, and crawled back in with her, lying beside for several wonderful moments.
“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Sylvia uttered over.
A lopsided grin crossed Noelle’s drooly lips. She reached around for a second, located Sylvia’s hand, and linked their fingers.
Have A Niece Day
Thursday, April 28th, 2016, 2:13 p.m.
The old(er) and new(er) ladies of the house had up and rinsed off, ready to find something to do today. On Sunday, Sylvie’d led her to the dining room for breakfast, finished giving her the grand tour, and sat with her in the living room for some TV and hands of cards (assuring Noelle there were no consequences for losing ümraniye escort bayan these). By the later afternoon, they were ready to get up and do something else. So Sylvia decided to take her out for supper. She volunteered furthermore to let Jenkins the chauffeur relax, and drive herself.
Noelle’d gotten to ride in the limo Saturday, and would certainly again. And cool as she felt the limo was, riding up front beside Aunt Sylvie in her Mercedes was pretty sweet too. Sylvia’d explained sometimes she wished to go out and be treated like any other person, so she dressed and drove relatively “normal.” She took them to the Blue Turtle, regarded by many in Juniper, Minnesota as the city’s finest restaurant. It wasn’t cheap, but money was less an object for Sylvia Quibley than most on this or any night. And Noelle’s breakfast wasn’t meager, but this dinner was her first chance to stuff her belly to max capacity and then some.
Monday morning progressed the same way Sunday had. Noelle was quick to learn that Aunt Sylvie’s chefs could whip up any breakfast they wanted, so she requested some eggs, sausage and French toast. After this equally scrumptious repast, Sylvia took her around the manor once more, this time to find each staff member and introduce Noelle. She could’ve done this yesterday, but the tour alone was its own event. And she wanted Noelle to be familiar with her new surroundings, not overwhelmed. Both agreed she’d get the lay of the land soon enough. Just an expression, of course. Sort of.
Noelle asked Monday afternoon if they could go shopping. She anticipated that now with these lavish meals and desserts, she could use some outfits in a size or two up. She frankly didn’t mind getting a little chubby. She was still cute, and considered herself well taken care of. And she needn’t impress gentlemen on the streetcorner anymore, which made her happiest of all. At the same time, Noelle didn’t really have apparel with her other than Saturday night’s hooker garb. So to the shops they went. Countless bags of new garments later, they returned home, and retired to Aunt Sylvie’s bedroom to hang out a while. Before much longer, the urge to be intimate struck again. So Noelle produced her swan vibrator for the first time, and they had some fun.
On Tuesday, they did something else they hadn’t yet gotten around to. Noelle took them to her small apartment (after stopping off at Public Storage) and they packed up and moved her belongings. This made Noelle a little nervous, but also quite excited. Thus far, she saw no reason living with Aunt Sylvie wouldn’t work out. But even if hypothetically it didn’t, she was certain they’d part on good terms, and Sylvia’d help her move back. But she hoped and believed she wouldn’t have to. She really really liked Aunt Sylvie to this point, and all evidence pointed to vice versa. Tuesday afternoon was thus spent in Noelle’s new room—which actually wasn’t that much smaller than her entire apartment—unpacking and decorating.
Now this started to look like home. After this miniature adventure, Noelle felt like a nap, which turned into a hell of a full night’s sleep. Wednesday was the first entire day they spent at home. She tagged at Sylvie’s side as today auntie tended to the servants, and their desired schedules. Noelle was presented with another example of Sylvia’s extraordinary generosity, as she handed out paid days off left and right. One young man coincidentally wanted to help his girlfriend move. Boom, Aunt Sylvie agreed without hesitation: paid day off. A maid wanted to make a doctor’s appointment and take care of some family obligations. Paid day off. More personal errands, vacations, miscellany…paid day off, paid day off, paid day off. The next thing Sylvie had to do was step into her office, open her employee database and put in all the requested time.
Hm, Noelle noted. So Aunt Sylvie in fact had her own bit of work to do. It was true, Sylvia told her. She was the very very last surviving Quibley of the entire brood. And this task was the only thing no one else could perform. Watching the effortless contentment with which Sylvie scheduled everyone’s time off awoke something new in Noelle. All together, Sylvia was giving away months of paid time off…every month. Noelle knew she had a ton of servants, and that she mustn’t underestimate her incredible wealth. And with that in mind…she developed a wonderful affection for Aunt Sylvie. She’d never met someone so giving, so charitable, so super-cool. The silver-maned lady was truly amazing. Noelle found herself wondering how Aunt Sylvia would awe her next.
She found out the very same day. Wednesday evening was particularly lovely, so Sylvie took her and the staff out to the congruently giant back patio for a tea party. An actual, legit tea party. With cups and kettles, scones and crumpets. Like Noelle and other girls used to have with dolls and stuffed animals. The staff, while mayhaps a little on the “stiff” side, catered to whatever Noelle liked, and regarded her as the princess she now essentially was. And even as it got dark, she could see everyone and everything in clear view with the lighted grounds and fountains. She was truly enchanted. She officially loved it here. It hadn’t even been a full week, and Noelle already couldn’t imagine living without Aunt Sylvie.
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