Cassandra's Closet

by Jo

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© Copyright 2013 - Jo - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; M/ff; FF; strip; bond; pantyhose; gag; bfold; closet; clothing; scarves; tease; mast; climax; reluct/cons; X

Cass came out of the bathroom, damp and warm from her shower. She had a towel draped over her head, rubbed her long black hair in a vain attempt to dry it. She didn't see Lacey standing by her closet.

Lacey grabbed her, shoved her into the closet.

"Hey! What ... what the f-"

"One time too many, roomy. One time too many."

She drove Cass to her knees, then down onto the floor. She grabbed a pair of dirty panty hose from the pile, pulled Cass's arms behind her back and wrapped the hose around her wrists, knotted them.

"Hey! Fuck! Lacey! What are you doing?!"

"Teaching you a lesson."

She flipped Cass over on her back. She pulled a pair of panties from the knee-deep pile of dirty laundry.

"Lace! What-"

"See these? Hm? Whose are they? Huh? Mine, damnit! You don't do your fucking laundry, then you take my stuff! You like my panties, well here."

Lacey was nearly as naked as her roommate wearing only a pair of powder blue underpants. She pulled them off, pinched Cass's nose, wadded up the cloth and held it to Cass's mouth.

Cass squirmed and struggled, but it was for naught. Lacey was a head taller and ten pounds heavier and she simply knelt there, straddling her squirming roommate. Finally Cass opened her mouth for a gasping breath and Lacey shoved her panties in, kept shoving until Cass's cheeks bulged. She clamped her hand over the other's mouth, fished another pair of hose from the pile. She wrapped the hose around Cass's head, between her teeth, knotted them also.

"How's that, roomy? Taste good? You like my panties, well you're gonna to love these. Been wearing them all week, 24/7, played with myself every day, twice a day, got them nice and juicy, even used them to wipe myself after I peed. You like dirty laundry, you got it!"

By the wincing and muffled coughs it was obvious Cassandra didn't like them at all.

Lacey grabbed another pair of hose, tied her knees.

"I'm sick of this shit, Cass. You never do your laundry unless I get on your case and, on top of it all, you take my clean stuff and I have to go fish it out of your dirty pile. What is it with you and dirty clothes? You don't like dirty things, missy. Hm? Take my clean stuff instead?"

She pulled yet another pair of pantyhose out and tied Cass's ankles. She used one more pair to connect her wrists to her ankles.

Lacey cleared a hole in the pile by the wall. It was damn near knee deep and covered most of the closet. She rolled Cass into the gap. She shoveled armfuls of dirty clothes over Cassandra until only her head was visible.

"My car won't be ready 'til, oh, what did he say? Six? So that gives you eight hours to think about this. Some quality time for an attitude adjustment."

So saying, she piled on more laundry, covering Cass completely. She rocked back on her heels, ran her fingers through her short, blonde hair, sighed, stood, turned - and yelped!

She had walked right into the chest, into the arms of Luke, Cass's boyfriend.

"What the -"

"Hi, Lacey. What's that joke? It's been a while. Nice to see you're back ... nice to see your front, too."

"Luke! Damnit! Let me go! What the hell are you doing here?"

She squirmed in his arms, but if Cass was no match for her, she was no match for Luke. He held her squirming and naked in a tight, bear hug.

"Didn't see your car. Figured you were out some place. Figured I'd grab some quality time with my lady."

"Damnit, Luke! How'd you get in?"

"Well, that's the real reason I came by. Cass gave me her keys, had a bit too much last night, didn't want to drive home, so I was just returning them."

"Luke! Let me go."

"Uh uh. This is what you've wanted, isn't it? You and me, like this. Hm?"

"Damnit! No!"


Luke spun her around, forced her down onto the floor. There was some scarves hanging on a hanger. He tugged one free, pulled Lacey's wrists back and tied them.

"Luke! Fuck it all! Stop! God damnit!"

He flipped her onto her back, pulled a pair of panties from the pile and shoved them into Lacey's mouth. He used a second scarf to secure them. He straddled her heaving chest. She screamed at him. The screams were muffled, but quite obscene.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander. Or in this case, the other goose."

Luke pulled another scarf from the hanger, tied her knees.

"You're going to have your own little bit of quality time. Maybe adjust your own attitude a bit."

He tied her ankles, rolled her over and connected them to her wrists with one last scarf.

"You've been coming on to me since day one. Whenever I'm here you're wearing just your panties and t-shirt, tits bouncing all over the place. You say it's your apartment and you can dress how you want. Yeah, right."

He dug away at some of the dirty laundry until Cass was mostly uncovered. He rolled Lacey into the gap until the girls were face to face, hip to hip, tit to tit.

"Yeah, you're quite the little tease. Can't have your own bowl of popcorn, have to get up every two minutes to grab some from ours, shake your tits and ass in my face. Well, we're tired of it. I'm tired of it. I spend half my life trying to reassure her that I'm not going to leave her for you. So here's where you have your chance to work on that attitude of yours. Catch you later."

Luke piled the clothes over them, burying them completely, turned, and shut the door.

- Lacey was wrong. She liked dirty things ... really liked dirty things. When she was a kid, the youngest of five, she and her sister used to play in the laundry room. They were poor and it was the only warm room in the house. Mother wouldn't let them play in the clean clothes, of course, so they played in the dirty pile. And, with seven people, there was always a dirty pile. They stripped to their panties because it wouldn't do to be rolling around in dirty laundry wearing clean clothes. The warmth, the earthy, animal smells imprinted themselves on her brain. It wasn't that she didn't like dirty clothes. Quite the opposite. She liked to open her closet door and catch a whiff of her dirty things. She found the fake "springtime fresh" laundry smell cloying. Lacey thought she kept her closet door closed to hide the mess. To the contrary, it kept the odor contained. It was a precious thing. She didn't want to waste it.

And now, here she was, buried under the pile, Lacey squirming, rubbing against her. She felt an odd, yet familiar dampness between her legs. Being naked and buried had triggered the flashback, back to when she was four. But she wasn't four, she was twenty-four. And the giggling, squealing wrestling she enjoyed as a kid had morphed, changed. Having Lacey there pressing herself against her was having a decidedly erotic effect. All those warm primal feelings had morphed into something different, yet equally primal. And was Lacey struggling to get free or ...

- Luke, the bastard, was right. She had been flirting with him, had been jealous of Cass since she first brought him home. There were times when Cass was out and they were alone and she hoped, prayed that he would scoop her up, carry her into the bedroom and ravage her, the irresistible temptress that she was. Lacey smiled behind her gag at the thought. But she was having other thoughts. Pleasant thoughts. Memories.

When she opened the door that first day after placing her roommate wanted ad her heart did a back flip. Donna! But, no, it was Cassandra. But it was Donna or her twin. Same boyish build, small boobs, slim hips, thin, almost skinny, chubby cheeks, button nose. Same long, dark hair. They were roommates in college, freshman year. They were yin and yang. Donna almost frail, Lacey borderline curvy. And they were lovers ... well, kind of.

They had gone to a party and, of course, there was beer, though neither of them were heavy drinkers. Still, Donna could drink her under the table, skinny as she was. They played beer pong, or a variation thereof - strip beer pong. You lose you take a drink or you lose some clothes. They lost most of their clothes and drank more than they should have. It was a good thing Donna had a sweater over her blouse, because Lacey never did find her t-shirt. She didn't remember much of the party. They had gotten drunk. They were reduced to bra and panties. Thankfully, they were sober enough to stop playing games at that point. They danced. They kissed, more in the party spirit kind of way than anything sexual. They ended up in Lacey's bed. And the next morning, well, things did get sexual.

Donna woke none the worse for the wear, but Lacey's head hurt. Donna held her and stroked her and kissed her and stroked her some more until Lacey had to push her hand away for the pounding in her head. Donna left, returned with a half pint of vodka, forced a bit of the hair of the dog on Lacey. Half a bottle later and Lacey was feeling better. A bottle of water and a nap made her almost human. They lay in each other's arms, talking and giggling as girls do. Then they were kissing. And then ...

The affair lasted that semester and a bit into the next. Neither girl was a lesbian, though Lacey had a bi streak as she soon discovered. Donna wasn't into girls at all. And yet, Lacey could coax her into bed. Except for that first time, it was always Lacey who started things. And for reasons unknown, it never took much coaxing.

And now here she was, naked and helpless, rubbing up against an equally naked and helpless Cass/Donna. And was she mistaken or was Cass rubbing back?


Lacey and Cassandra sat on the bed, barefoot, wearing denim miniskirts and matching green halter tops. Lacey's tits swayed as she moved; Cass's jiggled, hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. It had to be skirts and halters; sleeves and pant legs would get in the way later. Skirts and halters wouldn't interfere at all. Lacey upended the cloth sack. They fished through the items piled between them.

They started with handcuffs, each snicked the cuffs to their ankles. They giggled, pinched at each other's tits, giggled some more.

Cass pulled a second set of cuffs from the pile. Lacey half turned, reached behind her back, and Cass snapped them on her wrists. They shared a look, a playful, yet knowing look, little Mona Lisa smiles on their faces. The moment froze, stretched in time. Cass was teasing Lacey, of course. But then she reached for Lacey's tits, squeezed them until Lacey purred.

She picked up the blindfold, one of those complex looking harness things. She slipped it over Lacey's head and fastened the buckles. She kissed her on the mouth, played with her tits some more.

Cass grabbed the panties. Yes, Lacey's panties. Clean ones this time. She wadded them up and stuffed them into her mouth. She picked up the roll of tape and wound it around her face, over her lips, again and again and again and yet again.

Cassandra took a fourth set of cuffs and fastened them to her wrists, in front, unlike Lacey's which, were locked behind her back.

The moment stretched again. Lacey reached her hands from behind her back, reached for Cassandra, found her thigh, stroked it. Cass ran her fingers over Lacey's lips. Lacey kissed them, licked then, sucked first one, then two of Cass's fingers into her mouth.

The two girls, one blind, one mute made love. Bondage love, kinky love to be sure. But it was love none the less.

A lot had changed since that first day, that day they shared in the closet. You could say that adjustments had been made. New attitudes replaced old. Cass no longer kept her closet full of dirty clothes. Well, not full, but not empty, either. Lacey no longer flirted with Luke. But then, she didn't have to.

Luke checked his watch. It had been over a half hour, but he didn't need the time. He could tell where things stood by the way they were touching each other, by the way they were moaning, by the fact that they had gotten naked. By the way Lacey kept saying," Oh god. Oh fuck yes!" Cassandra's intense, yet muffled words, needing no interpreter, seemed to be on a par.

He set his drink aside, stood, stretched, stepped over to the bed. He separated the girls, scooped Cass into his arms, and carried her into her closet. He retrieved his drink, sipped, waited a bit, a bit more. Lacey lay still, cuffed and blind on the bed. It was their game and Luke? He was a minor player. A helpful hand here and there. Kind of a referee. When he decided Lacey had damn near reached the boiling point he turned off the jets. Her frustration, now, was almost palpable. But she lay still, quiet on the bed.

Luke poured another drink, sipped, set it aside. He hefted Lacey into his arms and carried her into Cassandra's closet and closed the door.


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