The Depraved Dykes of FIT - Book 02

***

Later on, she thought there'd be a lot of crying from Linda, but there was just a little. Then Linda said, "I'll do it."

Emily

"Well, I see you're awake," the farm wife said kindly, looking down at the bruised young woman lying in the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Where am I?" asked the battered young woman - almost a girl, with her short, brown hair. She looked about sharply.

"You're in no danger here," the woman said. "You're in the home of Ira and Emily Taylor. We farm here in Cutchogue, and my husband found you by a ditch near Oregon Road last night. Since cell service and emergency services are spotty out here, he brought you back with him. Do you want us to call the police or EMS for you?"

"No...I don't think so...I mean, it's not necessary, just let me rest a little and I can be on my way." She paused. "Was my car there? It's a Ford Mustang..."

"He didn't say anything about a car, but I'll ask him - or rather, you can ask him, when he comes in from the fields." She looked down at the glass in her hand.

"Oh, I brought you some orange juice. Here, you should drink something, if you can."

"Thank you," the girl said, taking the glass with a steady hand. She drank a little, and then said, "This tastes funny. Would you taste it and see?"

The woman took the glass and swallowed a little. "No, it tastes okay to me. Maybe because of your injury it's affected your sense of taste?"

"Yes, maybe," the girl said, taking the glass back. "Yes, it tastes okay now."

"Well, you just rest. And if you want to call someone, here's the phone," indicating an old style wired phone on the bedside stand. "Oh, and you know my name, Emily. What's yours?"

"Erin," the girl said. "Erin Rider."

"Well, it's lovely to have you as a guest, Erin," the woman replied. "Though I'm sure we both would prefer different circumstances."

The girl lay back and closed her eyes, and Emily left her to rest.

***

Later that morning, Emily felt the strangest sensation, a slight sense of being...horny. "I haven't felt this kind of ...hunger...at this time of day in years," she wondered, giggling a little to herself. "I wonder if it means I should call Ira in from the fields?"

Of course, such a thing was impossible. A farmer leaves his field when he must, not when his wife of ten years gets an itch. "I can satisfy this here, and be done with it," she thought, walking to the downstairs bathroom. In her experience, an orgasm was a small thing, and once achieved, not revisited for some time. She sat on the toilet, flipped up her plain skirt and slipped her hand inside her panties, caressing her labia and clit in a workmanlike fashion, more a need to get the job done than to actually enjoy herself.

She closed her eyes, as she sometimes did in these circumstances, imagining her Ira standing behind her, his arms familiarly around her, his left hand squeezing and massaging her breast, his right hand leisurely around her hip, his hand caressing her pussy. His touch was practiced and knowing, perfectly playing her like a musical instrument, each touch striking the perfect note of pleasure in her mind...and soon, in her clit.

"Unnh, that feels nice, honey," she murmured, near silently. "Touch me there, make me wet, make me cum," she begged, and the clever fingers brought her higher and higher toward that brusque climax, that sharp jolt of pleasure to quickly fade, only...

...it didn't do either.

Her orgasm kept growing, impending, anticipating, swelling until she actually grew frightened at what would happen when the wave crashed over her. Nonetheless, as though observing and feeling someone else's life, body and sensations, there was nothing she could do to prevent it, but to experience it.

And it was glorious.

Nothing she had ever experienced could compare with the symphony of ecstasy that played inside her. Choral voices of near-shrieking pleasure sang in her ears, while her body reverberated with the bass notes of lusty, animal vibration, her hips and clitoris thumping with a rhythmic beat she only later identified as consonant with her heart beat.

The pleasure, musical and physical, dissolved into ghostly taste and smell sensations, sweet and floral with a hint of spice, and then into the visual, curtains of sweet pastels glimmering with tiny, beautiful white lights and sparkles, her body sighing with the pleasure, complete, total, universal in her being.

Nor did it just pop like a bubble, as had every previous orgasm - though she recognized that the term would now be redefined and what she had previously called "orgasm" might more accurately be termed something much less. Rather, the pleasure slowly faded, stepping her down from ultimate delights to real world in generously leisurely steps.

The sensation of her lover's arms around her, touching her, holding her, making her feel safe and desired, remained too, and she looked to her right to look at her man there smiling...

...and saw instead her young female visitor naked, her body feminine and slim, and so desirable, even mouth watering, her small nipples dark pink, her skin smooth, perfect and pale, her pussy glistening and smelling for some unknown reason like a sweet, juicy peach. The girl held Emily in her imagination, her sweet face smiling but also dangerous in some mysterious and unknown way.

Then the vision vanished, and Emily was alone, on a closed toilet seat, her hand lingering between her legs, wondering...

***

"I've brought you lunch," Emily said shyly, to the young girl in the bed. "I thought you might be pretty hungry, and eating something would help you regain your strength."

"Ohh, thank you very much," the girl replied, smiling for the first time. "I am hungry."

As the girl sat up, and Emily set the tray on the girl's lap, Erin leaned forward and impulsively kissed Emily on the cheek.

When Emily, startled, jerked backward, the girl blushed and said, "Sorry...I'm just grateful for you...and your husband."

Emily smiled. "It was the christian thing to rescue you from a ditch, battered and bruised. Do you have any idea what happened?"

The girl patted the bed by her side. "Please, sit here. You'll be more comfortable, and I won't have to shout across the room." The two chuckled, and Emily did as directed, oddly feeling that she had little choice. In any case, she felt a warmth inside at being closer to the girl, and she hoped that it was doing Erin some good.

"All I know," Erin said, "Is that I was driving along, someone pushed my car into a ditch, and when I got out to see what was happening, two men came and hit me. Everything after that was blackness, until I woke up here. Thank you again for rescuing me." She smiled, and then said, "Tell me about yourself."

"Well, there's not much to tell, really," said Emily. "My husband Ira is a farmer and has a small ministry -- our church is just down the way a quarter of a mile. Our congregation is small, around 200 or so in my husband's flock, but they're devout. Also, he farms a 100 acre plot, potatoes mainly."

"Well, I know a lot about your husband now," said Erin, simultaneously resting her hand on Emily's thigh on top of her skirt, "But I don't know anything about you -- what you want from life, what your dreams are..."

Emily looked surprised, both by Erin's response and her touch. But she didn't demur at either. In truth, she rarely if ever got to talk about herself without putting it in terms that involved her husband...and Erin's touch was stirring up desires inside her that she felt incapable of preventing.

"Well, when I was a little girl, of course I wanted to be a princess and meet my Prince Charming. I guess I got lucky and did meet, and marry him, and-"

"About you, Emily. I want to know about you," Erin said, smiling, her hand now slightly caressing Emily's warm, smooth thigh.

"Oh, was I going on about Ira again? Sorry, um..." her thoughts were growing confused, and it seemed that Erin's innocent touch on her thigh was bringing up carnal thoughts crowding out all other thought. "Umm, to tell the truth, I'm not sure I have the same vision he does. Trying to convert people to a certain view...I'm not sure that's for me."

"You really want just to be happy, don't you?" suggested Erin. Emily nodded absently.

"Yes, happy of course, but doesn't that include who-"

"Of course," Erin said soothingly, "but we don't always make the right choice the first time."

"First time?" Emily said, more of an echo to Erin than a request for clarification, as her thoughts were entirely concentrated on the fire between her legs. "I don't understand..."

"Why don't you lie next to me and relax," Erin said smoothly. "And that roaring in your head will go away."

"How does she know..." Emily thought, but that thought went away too, and she did as Erin 'suggested,' lying next to her, their heads close by each other, their legs touching. It then seemed the most natural thing in the world for Erin to be kissing her and then she was, the girl's soft, warm lips on hers were a revelation, opening up both a sensation and a pleasure that she had never realized could exist.

She was drowning in Erin's mere touch of her lips, and she wanted no rescue. Her soft moans made it clear to Erin that her rescuer's conversion was moving along swiftly, but she had no doubt that it would. After all, she had converted dozens of women herself, although not often through just her saliva regurgitated into a drink. But hey, any port in a storm and a craftsman uses the tools she has, to rehash some old sayings.

"Have you ever been told that you're the most beautiful woman on earth?" Erin whispered in the helpless woman's ear. "That you are the ultimate that any woman could desire?"

Had Emily been able to, she would have questioned the comment about women desiring her -- after all, didn't the bible say that such a thing was wrong? But of course, she wasn't able, or willing, to question anything that Erin would say or do to her.

"Do you know that I desire you, that I want to communicate with you, to feel and be one with you, on a level that your husband could never hope to accomplish? Simply by touch, and feel..." She kissed Emily again, and the older woman melted into her arms, all resistance gone.

"Yes...please..." Emily moaned, though she had no idea what she was asking -- no, begging -- for. But she felt to her roots that somehow she could trust the beautiful stranger lying next to her, whose fingers even now were caressing Emily's full breasts through her plain blouse. Their bodies writhed together in growing pleasure. Truth to be told, although Emily was just one of hundreds or more women that Erin had bedded, the pleasure and delight were every bit as wonderful with this woman as with any of the previous.

The wonder of the FIT virus was the intense ecstasy that lesbian sex reliably brought to those infected, and both the number of orgasms they would experience and their enthusiasm for spreading what would become a religion of sorts for them, though its only real promised paradise was always delivered upfront, certainly making it more attractive -- to women, at least -- than any conventional faith.

That would make Emily both more susceptible and more enthusiastic once converted, due to her implicit belief in religion, her "faith in faith," you might say. It took only a small amount of a young girl's saliva and her ability at aiding the conversion of other women to lesbianism and the FIT organization for Emily to abandon everything that came before for her three new loves -- FIT, lesbianism and Erin.

Emily gasped when she felt Erin's other hand between her legs, hurriedly and frantically pulling up her skirt to find the precious pearl between her legs. After gliding her fingertips over and up Emily's warm, smooth thighs, Erin's fingers skated over the front of her plain cotton panties, feeling dewy moisture already collected there.

"God, you're so wet," she whispered, her lips curling into a smile. "You're so fucking hot!"

"I came...before, thinking of you," Emily found herself confessing, to her own greatest surprise.

"Get used to it," Erin laughed, her fingers curling under the thin fabric of the sodden white panties, her finger seeking out the wet slit waiting anxiously for her. Erin's other hand was busy unbuttoning Emily's blouse, her fingers jamming inside and into the cups of the woman's bra, finding her nipples hard inside the cushioned satin cups. "Ah, yeah," Erin growled.

As another woman's fingers touched her so intimately and familiarly, first along her labia and inside her dripping slit, then at her warm, soft bosom and tight, hard nipples, Emily felt warm jolts of pleasure begin at her groin and upper chest and course through her to her clitoris, converging there in an explosion of soft delight, her mind overwhelmed at the extent and length of the pleasure electrifying her body, whimpering as delights that she had never imagined possible -- outdoing even the pleasures she had assumed her religious faith would bring her into eternity -- took control of her, body, mind and soul.

She clutched at Erin, not knowing what else to do, as convulsion after convulsion of pleasure and delight took hold of her, feminine fingers thrusting inside her, small female index finger and thumb pinching and squeezing her nipples so pleasurably and painfully, hot, wet lips engulfing hers, strong tongue trapping hers, oceans of saliva from her new lover in her mouth, cascades of her own clear cum dripping over fingers down her thighs and onto the bed.

"Oh god oh god oh god," Emily wailed, her god now sex and pleasure, the pleasure of another woman dominating, teasing and torturing her endlessly, eternal delight, heavenly hosts singing while they wait in line to fuck her body and make her lick their angelic snatches ...forever and ever, amen.

There was a blackness, and only gradually Emily realized that she had fainted from the excess of joy that had so unexpectedly overtaken her. As she came back to consciousness, a sense of shame overcame her, as she realized that her legs were splayed lewdly, with a woman's fingers inside and on her.

When a person is confronted with life changing events, the conversion to new ways may not be smooth, with doubts and steps back toward the former rock of faith. So too, Emily felt slight twinges of guilt at rejecting her faith for this new...whatever it might be. The next few moments in many cases would be critical, though in the case of FIT conversions the record was perfect. No woman had returned to a preference for heterosexuality after her conversion by FIT.

Erin knew that Emily was tipping on the sharp edge of an axe, and though she never doubted which way she would fall, she did her best to ensure a successful conversion.

"You look like an angel with your hair around you on the pillow," she cooed to the confused woman. "It looks like you've found your heaven."

"What...what happened?" Emily whispered, the memory but not the real source of her numerous orgasms fresh in her mind, her body still quivering with aftershocks.

"Just this," Erin said...and it was that easy, as she kissed Emily again, but took her hand and placed it on her own breast. The warmth and softness of a woman's breast under her fingers for the first time was more than enough to bring back Emily's full recollection of the happiness and sense of belonging to something very real, a faith that was far more than ethereal, but substantial, that Erin's seduction had just given her moments before.

Emily looked at her hand on Erin's small breast, marveling, then her fingers twitched and began squeezing and caressing the still-clothed femininity under her touch. She lifted her eyes to Erin's and seeing nothing but love, and a loving sisterhood there, moaned and then brought her mouth to Erin's.

Erin parted her lips, welcoming her new lover, knowing that she would only be the first of perhaps thousands of female lovers to come in Emily's life, and small tears of happiness slipped out to her cheeks at that knowledge. Every woman in FIT found her paradise, her heaven, in her being with women...all other women.

The two kissed, deeply and passionately. Erin let Emily take the lead, believing that her natural instincts and reactions to pleasurable response would draw her deeply into a very wonderful experience. Emily's fingers slipped inside the borrowed nightshirt that Erin was wearing, finding Erin's breasts unencumbered by a bra, a happy small cry escaping her lips as she caressed her lover and mentor's warm, soft breasts.

"Heaven," she moaned.

Her lips followed, as she mouthed Erin's nipples through the fabric, then, laughing, both women cooperated in lifting the one piece of fabric up and over Erin's head, leaving her topless and wearing only her satin panties she had been brought in with. The two fucked, with Emily especially delighted to discover scissoring, her very moist pussy joining intimately with Erin's equally wet cunt, followed by a messy sixty-nine, each woman's face soon covered with the other's warm and milky cum.

Eventually both women found their ardor slowing, as Emily gasped. "Ira will be returning for lunch soon!"

"Then you should take care of him," Erin told her, almost as though both of them had fallen into the roles of mistress and servant. Within 30 minutes, Ira was being served at the kitchen table, joined by Erin and his wife.

Chapter 3

Myra

"Ooh, Charlie, you're so masculine! I could never work up the courage to shoot a gun, but I love watching you do it!" Myra gushed to her eighteen year old boyfriend.

"Thanks for talking me into coming to this gun range, honey," the boy responded excitedly. "I never shot a gun before, it was cool!" He looked at her in an almost speculative way.

"Maybe now you won't be afraid to shoot it yourself. I don't know why you would have bought it if you were too afraid to shoot it."

"Maybe we can come back next week if I work up the courage?" she replied. "But let's go get ready for the commercial filming this evening, and if you like you can fuck me, okay?"

"Oh god, yes," he grinned. "And I can't wait to star in a commercial with you."

"Well, they're filming us separately, but I think you have the star quality, Charlie, I really do." Myra said from the heart.

***

Outside the New Jersey pizza shop, as the well dressed man exited holding two boxes of pizza, accompanied by a lovely blonde near his age and trailed by a plainly dressed but attractive brunette woman, a young man rushed up to him holding what appeared to be a handgun, pointing it at the man and shouting out something unintelligible at him.

Shots were fired, the man holding the pizzas collapsing in a heap, blood spurting from what would prove to be a fatal wound, the assailant also sprawled on the sidewalk mere feet away, equally dead. Silence resumed as the two women looked at each other, and then the brunette pulled out her cell phone and called 911.

Emily

"So I see that you're recovering," Ira said with a warm smile. "I'm very happy that there was no serious damage done. Are you certain that you don't want me or Emily to take you to the hospital?"

"No, thank you so much," Erin said with an equally warm smile. "I'd like to leave and return home...can you tell me about my car, did you see it?"

"The Mustang?" he asked. Erin nodded.

"I locked it up, the keys were still in the ignition. It looked okay, but we can check it out. Tell you what, I have some more to attend to in the potato fields this afternoon -- would it be okay if you rest until then, then we drive you out to your car? Emily can take care of you until then, won't you Em?"