Black Wedding 3 – Gifts

This story is my first publication on this platform. It was not originally written in English and was partially translated with the help of an online translator. Please excuse any grammatical errors.

 

 

Black Wedding

 

Part 3 – Gifts

 

Chapter 6

 

“Speaking of guilty conscience,” Maria took a stack of large-format photos from another box. “It was actually Melly who encouraged us.”

“Wow, shouldn’t those pictures be kept in the poison cabinet?”

“Uh, maybe. But that wasn’t the question.”

“Do you think it wouldn’t have happened at some point anyway?”

 

But Maria was kind of right. Last November, Jo cautiously asked Melly about photographers in the area. Melly’s curiosity was immediately piqued, and Jo didn’t hold back her questions for long.

“I want to surprise Simon for Christmas with, well, an erotic photo calendar of mine. Or do you think that’s too stuffy?” she asked uncertainly.

“It all depends on what you make of it.”

 

They spent the following Christmas Eve together for the first time at Erlenweg. After Simon’s father and his girlfriend had gone home, and Marc and Rita had said goodbye to their room, Simon, Jo, Maria, and Melly sat cuddled up on the couch in front of the burning fireplace, enjoying their third bottle of red wine. Jo conjured a DIN A3-sized present from behind the couch and, somewhat embarrassed, handed it to Simon. A knowing grin from Melly and Maria, a questioning look from Simon, who impatiently tore open the wrapping paper.

“A calendar…”

“Not just any calendar!” Melly insisted.

Simon had already settled on January.

The photo shows Jo, wearing only a shiny black corset that ends below her breasts. She is sitting on the mantelpiece of a large fireplace. In the blurred background, you can see the wall of a small hall, which is in need of some repair. Despite the rather dark lighting, every detail of Jo’s body is visible. Jo wears her shiny black hair pinned up. Maria had conjured up a fantastic hairstyle on the back of her head. The makeup was uncharacteristic of Jo. A blood-red painted mouth, thinly drawn eyebrows on an otherwise pale face. Her serious gaze was slightly lowered, yet directed at the camera. Her chest was thrust out, her corset-accented breasts further lifted by her hands clasped behind her head. Jo enjoyed showing off her delicate and perfectly hairless armpits like this. Her nipples, adorned with delicate, round nipple shields held in place by piercings, were noticeably erect. With her legs slightly spread, she presented her pussy, its piercings gleaming silver. Despite the dim light, she was beautifully illuminated. Jo had stretched her six labia piercings to seven millimeters over time and wore massive ball-closure rings.

Silence and three expectant glances directed at Simon. Jo had been impatient all evening, but hadn’t dared to present this gift in front of the others. Directed by Melly, the recordings had turned out to be much more explicit than she had imagined at the beginning of her plan.

“Wow!” Simon finally exclaimed. And he turned the page.

Next picture. A slightly dilapidated stairwell. Long shot from above. Jo lies head down on the steps with her eyes closed, her limbs slightly twisted. The whole thing is brutally staged by a harsh, cold light.

The March picture looks like a snapshot. Jo walks through a small hall. The photo was taken from a low position, looking from the front. She is wearing her wedding dress. She gathers the already shortened front hem of her dress with both hands, presenting her naked genitals to the viewer.

Simon continues to turn the pages silently from month to month. There are more romantic shots, for example, of Jo fastening stockings to her garter belt in front of a baroque dressing table, which is beautifully visible in the mirror, alternating with raw, disturbing motifs.

The October page shows a completely undressed Jo. She is kneeling on the rough floorboards of a small room, her hands tied behind her back with a strap. In front of her on the floor is a bowl containing something resembling cat food. Shot from an angle above, you can see Jo trying to eat it. She looks up into the camera. Food particles are stuck to her still-made-up face.

And finally, the last photo. A deserted-looking room, illuminated by harsh light. No furniture. Jo is squatting, her bottom propped up on her heels, completely naked in the center. Her makeup is smudged, a few tear stains run down her cheeks, her hair ruined. A few damp strands of hair are stuck to the front of her bald head. Large rings hang from her nipples. Between her spread legs, a puddle, and, in razor-sharp detail, a fine stream trickling from her labia, drawn down by the heavy piercings, onto the floor.

Simon carefully placed the calendar on the coffee table, stood up, and knelt in front of the uncertain-looking Jo.

“If I weren’t already married to you, I’d propose to you right here and now.”

“Do you really like it? Don’t you think it’s a bit too…extreme? The last picture. I almost got into an argument with Melly. I didn’t want to do it at first. But then it arose from the situation. And it was almost a challenge. I never thought I could just pee in front of a camera. But the two of them gave me a whole bottle of water and a lot of tea. I had a real belly. And then it actually worked. It was a relief and embarrassing in front of the strange photographer. And later, Melly talked me into it for so long that I actually put it in the calendar. You don’t think that’s, uh, vulgar?”

“I think it’s—I can’t really put it into words—great, brave, awesome, what do I know?”

When Jo became aware of her surroundings again after a minute-long kiss, Melly winked at her conspiratorially.

 

“Shall we tell him the whole story now?”

Was there a brief flash of shock on Maria’s face? Jo wasn’t quite sure either.

“Oh, come on! We’re just alone here, and it’s only fair to Simon.”

Melly stood up and returned shortly after with a large-format photo folder. She sat down on the other side of the couch, right next to Simon, who looked at her expectantly. Jo and Maria reached for their wine glasses almost simultaneously and exchanged an uncertain glance. Melly leafed through the folder and took out a photo, which she pressed into Simon’s hand.

The small hall. Dusty floor. In front of the camera are Jo and Maria, both in high heels. They stand upright next to each other. Jo’s left hand holds Maria’s right hand. Jo is in the perfect attire of the previous portraits, wearing the tight corset. Maria is wearing only a harness made of leather straps about two centimeters wide. Two straps encircle each of her slender thighs, one strap on each side running upwards from the front of her thighs over her groin to meet a bra-like structure, the triangles of which frame her nonexistent breasts. Maria wears large silver rings in her erect nipples. Around her neck is a leather band with a steel ring at the front, and black leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles. They stand exactly next to each other, but their heads are turned toward each other. They smile at each other. The crow tattoo on Maria’s left side of her skull is clearly visible.

 

Maria’s tattoo. Immediately, the feelings that this tattoo had evoked in Jo were awakened. It must have been the previous spring. Jo was working at her computer when the door opened and Maria crept into her attic office. Not the cheerful Maria she knew. Her eyes were reddened; she must have been crying. And she looked different. Her hair, currently dyed a dark purple, which Maria had grown in a kind of wide Mohawk on a strip about ten centimeters wide, fell over the left side of her head and reached to the middle of her ear. The right side of her head and the back of her head were clean-shaven, as usual. Black hair was visible behind her left ear and on the side of her neck, but especially in front of it, toward her forehead. Jo jumped up and hugged Maria.

“What happened, love?”

“I think I made a huge mistake,” sobbed Maria. She reached under her hair, lifted it, and brushed it to the other side of her head. Jo let go of Maria and took a step back. Her breath caught in her throat. Almost the entire left side of her head was covered by a dark tattoo. Jo immediately recognized a raven or crow, slightly stylized, embedded in ornaments and decorations. The slightly open beak clearly extends beyond the lateral hairline and ends on the forehead only above the left eye. The necklace or rosary the raven carries in its beak hangs down and runs over the temple in front of the left ear to the base of the jawbone, where it terminates in a cross pendant. Claws are visible behind the ear. The tail feathers extend to the middle of the back of the head and down the sides to the neck. Jo caught her breath. She was instantly torn. Fascination. Disgust. Arousal, pity.

“What have you let them do to you?”

“Actually, it was a game between Melly and me. We were both turned on by these Simon-Jo situations, where Simon subjected you to some kind of modification. I said I’d like to be in your shoes, but that it would be difficult. We’ve known each other for a while, and I’ve had quite a few modifications. Getting pierced or tattooed is still an exciting situation for me. But nothing life-changing, nothing that overwhelms me. Melly then said it would really excite her. She was hooked on the idea, and we imagined similar situations from time to time. The scenarios were extreme, going way beyond dirty talk. We imagined Melly giving me a sleeping pill and me coming to with a completely tattooed neck. Or getting a big burn on my buttock. Something like that. At one point, Melly asked me on one of these occasions if I trusted her. And I replied that I was sure. That she would never do anything that disfigured me. That was a given; she adored me. When Melly woke me up this morning and did it so mysteriously, I was truly happy. After all, I’d played it through countless times in my imagination. That it was our turn to go to our tattoo studio didn’t surprise me. I think anything else would have disappointed me. For me, it was part of the game not to ask. And that Melly wouldn’t tell me. And of course, there was the uncertainty. What would happen to me? All of our erotic fantasies of the past few months ran through my head. I suddenly considered whether I could live with a hand tattoo or something similarly conspicuous and was almost relieved when Maik, the tattoo artist, asked me to lie on my right side and fix my hair on the other side. Crazy, I thought. But also flexible. I can show it or hide it. Melly held my hand, and after disinfecting it, she applied a template to my skin, which, of course, I wasn’t allowed to see. And didn’t want to see, that. would have ruined the thrill. Those four hours were the most painful I can remember. And yet I was so excited. Melly was always right there with me. And I imagined what kind of motive I’d leave the shop with. At some point, suspicions began to grow. The pain was no longer above my ear. It was in front of my ear, almost my forehead. Where would Maik stop? I was totally scared, Jo.”

The two girls fell into each other’s arms again. Jo also started to cry.

“After more than four hours, it was over. I think Melly was scared, too. She helped me up and led me to the mirror. She asked me, very carefully, if I liked it. I was honestly shocked. I don’t think I said much. Melly was really sweet, took me home, tried to talk about something else. But I don’t recognize myself. I’m a little hairdresser with a somewhat unusual hairstyle. Not like that.”

Maria briefly looked at herself in the small wall mirror and immediately looked away again.

“What do you think?” she sobbed.

Until now, Jo had been mostly overcome by pity. Now she wrinkled her nose, wiped her eyes, and turned Maria toward the light. Once again, she was overwhelmed by this freshly shining tattoo. By its sheer presence and size. But also by its motif and placement.

“Should I be honest? If I were Melly, I wouldn’t have gotten it for you. Absolutely not. But it’s amazing, overwhelming. A strange woman with a tattoo like that, somewhere at a festival, I would have stared at, oh, adored. But I would never have made such a decision for anyone else. I probably wouldn’t have even dared to suggest the design to you. Simply because it will radically change your life. You’re a heavily tattooed woman now. I know that, people look at you differently. And I can cover my cleavage if necessary. Brush your hair back to the left side! You see. Just to cover the tattoo on the back of your head and neck, you’d have to wear your hair almost shoulder-length. Long hair up would definitely not work. And in front,” Jo tried to brush her hair a little over her forehead, “there’s nothing to hide. The design goes way beyond your hairline everywhere, you’d have to wear bangs down to your eyebrows. Then your temple and cheek would still be visible. Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear that. I’m such a clown!”

“I know, I just tried it all out in front of the mirror,” Maria sniffed. “I have to live with it. Did you just mean that? Like, the other thing you said earlier?”

“Come with me!” Jo pulled Maria with her into the girls’ bathroom. She turned on all the lights, pushed Maria in front of the mirror, gathered her hair, and combed it to the right side of her head. Then she stood diagonally behind Maria and looked over her shoulder into the mirror.

“Forget that that’s you! What do you see?”

Maria was dressed simply. A simple crop top and tight black pants. The tattoo that dominated the entire left side of her head was all the more noticeable.

“I don’t know. You’re probably right. I would admire it on another woman. It’s probably really well done. But I don’t know if it suits me at all. I’m short and thin. The bird is huge. And I don’t know if that’s me, a conspicuously tattooed goth bitch.”

“Now, Maria, everything else aside: That tattoo looks absolutely stunning on you. Yes, it’s big, which makes it even more noticeable. And lots of people will look at you. But people have done that before. You’re so brave. Who has ever flashed their pierced tits at festivals twice like it’s the most normal thing in the world? Whether you see yourself that way is something only you can decide. When you look in the mirror, is that a Maria you can love? You decide for yourself whether you want to be a super hot, heavily tattooed goth bitch.”

Maria looked at herself thoughtfully for a long time, turning her head to the right, then to the left, attempting a cautious smile.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m the hottest goth chick in town. And maybe that even feels right for me.”

“Then it does for me, too. I think I just fell in love with you for a second time.”

Maria had turned around and taken Jo in her arms. Jo felt Maria’s lips on hers. A familiar feeling. They often exchanged fleeting kisses. Now it took minutes, and Jo felt Maria’s tongue searching for its way into her mouth as the bathroom door quietly opened. Maria’s tongue withdrew. But she didn’t seem at all ashamed as she turned to Melly, who entered somewhat embarrassed.

“I’m truly sorry, Maria. I think I confused our fantasies with reality and got carried away with an idea. And now I’ve caused irreparable damage. I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, but you should know, I…”

A resounding slap interrupted Melly’s apology. A red handprint formed on Maria’s cheek.

“Thank you, sweetheart!” Maria whispered in her ear. “It was the most extreme, worst, hottest, whatever day of my life. But never do it again! At least not like that.”

Jo wanted to discreetly withdraw, but Maria stopped her.

“You’re coming too, we deserve a coffee.”

Together in the kitchen, Maria seemed almost relaxed. Melly was still reserved and tense.

“After all our fantasizing, I had the feeling you were waiting for me to take the initiative.”

“That’s what I was expecting, or at least I expected the possibility.”

“And you emphasized several times that it would have to be something extreme, challenging, to provide the right kick. To me, that meant it had to be irreversible, not easy to hide, not a little secret between us. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s a gigantic difference between fantasy and reality, as I’ve learned since today. My daydreams were also extreme ideas. You once did my makeup to look like a doll, remember? Super thin black eyebrows, higher than normal, thick eyeliner, dark eyeshadow, a blood-red mouth with a darker outline. And you asked me if you should make it permanent. The idea stayed with me for days, I found it so hot.”

“Would you have wanted that? Would you have gone along with it?”

“No, I don’t think so. I love to vary my makeup too much. It was the idea of ​​irreversible change, I think.”

“Well, I was just thinking about that too. A large backpiece? It’s concealable, and maybe you’d treat yourself to one sometime. I was thinking about the neck. First of all, I couldn’t find any nice motifs, and then I was afraid it would be too extreme. The head was actually one of my first ideas. But you yourself had mentioned it once. Also, that you find it charming because you can hide it under your hair.”

“That’s true. We were talking about something discreet above or behind the ear. That might not have been a big challenge, you’re right.”

“Well, face tattoos are kind of the most intense thing you can do. I considered a thin line from the neck over the chin to the lower lip. And rejected it.”

“Thank goodness. I don’t think that’s cool at all. A small ornament under the chin would have shocked me, but I’m sure I would have found it chic too.”

“Well, anyway, I always thought of your head. For years, you’ve been shaving the sides smooth, practically an invitation. To add a little extra interest, the motif couldn’t end exactly at the hairline. Actually, I was only thinking a little bit about behind the ear and on the sideburn. I found really cute motifs where you can just about see that a tattoo is hidden there. Or where a delicate ornament extends all the way to the temple. Then I went to see Maik, and he showed me the design the next time. I had no idea how far it would go onto your face, darling. When the template was copied today, I was shocked. I wanted to stop it and send you to the mirror first. But you were so expectant, so excited, I didn’t want to spoil it.” Somewhat sheepishly: “And, I admit, I found the design on you so outrageous, I wanted you just like that. I was such a selfish person.”

“And, now that it’s happened, now that you see me like that all the time, is it still like that? Did you make me the person you wanted me to be? Would you do it again?”

“Phew! If you leave me because of that, I would understand and hate myself for the rest of my life. If you’re not happy with it, my life will be ruined too. I hope that’s not the case. If we’d talked about it before and you’d left the decision to me, I’d have your sweet little head tattooed again in a heartbeat, even all the way down to your beautiful face. I’m sorry, but that’s my honest opinion.”

“Jo said something similar earlier.”

“That’s right, sweetie. You didn’t want it yourself and probably would never have decided it yourself. You were transformed from a beautiful girl into a stunning woman, practically against your will. I want nothing more than for you to feel that way,” Jo interjected again.

At that moment, Simon came into the kitchen, almost fainting, and thus ended the emotional exchange.

 

Jo watched her friend closely in the days and weeks that followed. Were there signs of depression or sadness? Did she need to take care of herself? But there was nothing. Since that memorable afternoon, Maria was back to her old self. Or not quite. Jo even experienced her as more extroverted. And her head was now shaved daily. Her hair was only worn on the right side. In the summer, Maria cut all her hair to a length of no more than one centimeter. She bleached the stubble white and wore it in an extra-short mohawk. She then let it grow long again, though. The contrast between the dark tattoo and the white-blonde hair was much more striking. Maria later confessed to Jo that this had been her intention.

The friendship between Jo and Maria had become even closer and more intense since that memorable day. This led to Jo mostly admiring her spectacularly tattooed friend, but in some sentimental moments also seeing in her the shattered beauty she had been before.

 

All this went through Jo’s mind while Maria snuggled up to her on the couch. She was only brought back to the present when Melly handed Simon another photo.

A close-up. Jo’s exposed left breast and Maria sucking on her nipple. The details are sharply focused and well-exposed, the background out of focus.

Jo sees Simon giving her a look she can’t interpret. Undoubtedly, this turns him on. Perhaps also that Maria is snuggling up to her right now. Jo wonders if she should feel shame. Like Maria, she’s a little tipsy and therefore relaxed. No, she decides, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

And Melly pulls another picture out of the folder.

Jo is sitting on an antique chair, half-hidden by Maria, who is straddling her lap. From the camera’s perspective, you can see how intense the kiss is. Both have their eyes closed. You can even see Maria’s tongue in Jo’s mouth. The scene appears candlelit and has a warm atmosphere.

Jo remembered the situation vividly. They had both removed their few lingerie pieces. Maria had climbed onto her lap. Her piercings pressed against Jo’s hairless mons pubis. She immediately understood what turned Simon on so much. Maria arched her back to press her tiny breasts against Jo’s. Then she tilted her head to the right, gently touched Jo’s lips with her mouth, and immediately felt her tongue trying to penetrate her. She realized that the photo had perfectly captured the intimacy of the situation. It was also much less explicit than the previous ones. Almost without realizing it, she nibbled on Maria’s ear, which she acknowledged with a contented purr.

“No more cuddling!” Melly calls out, presenting another photo. Jo jumps slightly.

On a worn carpet in a dilapidated salon, Jo is kneeling on the floor on the left and Maria on the right. At least Jo’s breasts are touching the floor, the way she sticks her bottom up. Maria does the same. The camera, positioned slightly higher directly behind the two, mainly captures their bottoms. Jo was shocked later when she looked through them. She hadn’t realized how the scene initiated by Melly would affect the viewer, who is left with nothing hidden here. Both are still wearing the few pieces of lingerie from the first picture. And they have both inserted a butt plug. Jo the large one with the ring. The short silver chain attached to it is hooked into one of her labia rings. She has supported herself with her right hand, and pulled her buttock to the side with her left. Black-painted fingernails on white skin. The inner labia are slightly elongated by the piercing rings. But they don’t compare to Maria’s, who are also adorned with a total of six piercings. Melly had consistently stretched her lover’s piercings, so that Maria wore tunnels from front to back, each with a diameter of fourteen, twelve, and ten millimeters, through which she had inserted a variety of thinner rings of various sizes for the occasion. The labia were stretched down to a length of at least six centimeters. Compared to Maria’s small but round butt, her pussy appears almost monstrous. In her butt, Maria wears a plug with a long, dark ponytail. She holds it slightly to the side with her free right hand to allow a view of her pussy. There’s only a small gap between them, but you can see that they’re looking at each other. Maria sticks out her tongue lasciviously, Jo has her lips slightly open.

Simon was completely silent. Melly watched him with interest and grinned. Jo noticed Maria rubbing her pussy under her short skirt.

“Well, can you still do it?” Melly asked Simon.

Does she really want to show all the photos? Jo thought. Even the ones where she spanks Maria’s bottom with a riding crop? Does she really want that?

Melly presents another picture.

Again, more of a close-up. Apparently from Maria’s perspective, lying down, looking down at herself, over her flat stomach and the cheekily protruding mons pubis to her pussy, of which, of course, one can hardly see anything. Jo is crouching between her upturned thighs, her pierced tongue right between Maria’s labia. But that’s not very clear. The focus is on Jo’s face. Her gaze isn’t lowered, but she’s also not directed at the camera. Jo is clearly looking past the lens and into Maria’s eyes.

Before Jo can fully immerse herself in the memory of the situation, Simon regains his composure.

“How did you do that, you three witches? You were there, Melly, weren’t you? And where? When?”

“First of all, it was Jo’s idea. And I’d worked for a photographer several times and liked his pictures. I developed a few ideas with him and really wanted Maria to be there too. Emil, the photographer, knew of a somewhat run-down baroque palace. We met there at the beginning of December. The house or palace was really a bit neglected. But Emil had made an effort, and a few rooms were heated to a cozy temperature. And then we had a really lovely Saturday, right, girls?”

“At first, I thought I should just do Jo’s hair. What do you think, by the way? It looks spectacular. But Melly had already said I should definitely make myself pretty, she had such an idea. And then it was so much fun working with Jo. Uh, you can see…”

“Well, it’s turned into a Melly thing,” Jo chimed in. “I actually just want to take some nice, exciting photos for you and suddenly I’m part of a huge event. I had to spend half a fortune changing all my piercing jewelry from black to silver. Okay, I actually think that’s nicer now, too.

“Emil and Melly complemented each other perfectly. It was absolutely fantastic. Jo and I basically just let ourselves be guided from one scene to the next. And some of them were really extreme. I don’t know if you should see them all. Sometimes I was embarrassed.”

“Me too. But it was worth it.”

“You two were actually a no-brainer. Emil or I thought of a scene and then you just started. It was really nice.”

“You’re so unfair! I’m giving you a home, company, I don’t know what else. And you’re not taking me to an event like this,” Simon complained, only half-joking.

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise. But tell me, which picture do you like best, I mean, of these?” Melly pointed to the folder.

“Difficult. I’d have to choose between the butt shot and the last one. But I can’t.”

“And you would have liked to be there, right?” Melly pressed.

“Absolutely!”

“What do you think? Will you do Simon a favor?”

Jo realized the question was actually directed at her and Maria. What was Melly up to? Should we…?

“I think I’d like that.” Maria giggled. She looked at Jo expectantly. “Oh God, don’t tell me this was all a joke and I just embarrassed myself!”

Jo was torn. The little picture show had turned her on, and cuddling with Maria even more so. Posing naked in her own fireplace room was another matter, though. On the other hand, if Maria had no shame in front of Simon, what was her problem?

“So here, now? How exactly do you have in mind?” She hadn’t wanted to sound so matter-of-fact. But Maria was so relieved that she gave her a kiss and pulled her behind her, up the stairs, to her room.

“Don’t mess around without us!” she called downstairs.

 

 

Chapter 7

 

“Oh, thank you, you saved me.” The door hadn’t even closed when Maria threw her arms around her neck. “I know I’m a tiny bit drunk. But I really wanted to do this. Don’t you?”

Did Jo want to relive, or at least reenact, some very erotic moments with Maria? Yes, absolutely.

“Totally! We can’t waste any time, though. I’ll get my corset and the plug. You’ll have to help me with the corset. I just painted my fingernails and toenails black; they’re chic. My hair, you’ll have to improvise somehow. Can you manage it? And how’s it looking on you?” Maria’s euphoria had contagiously affected Jo.

“Everything’s perfect, just like you.”

Jo rushed into her room. Her clothes were on the floor in seconds. A quick glance in the mirror. From dinner and the wine, she had a tiny little belly. More sexy than annoying, she thought. With a little lube, even the 40-millimeter plug slipped right into her anus. Jo pulled the corset out of the drawer. She was wearing the nipple shields anyway, as she often had these days. So she hurried naked back to Maria’s bedroom. Maria was just despairing over the wrist cuffs.

“Ah, you’re just what you need. Help me!”

She had already put on the harness and the ankle cuffs.

“Do you have some lube for my plug? And here, you have to help me with that too, otherwise it’ll take too long. I only wore the empty tunnels today. But it doesn’t look good. I want you to have plenty to play with.” Maria had dumped a box filled with countless piercing rings of various sizes on the table.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh, Melly, you’re just what you need. The makeup needs a bit of sprucing up.”

“Christmas bells,” Melly laughed as she walked down the stairs behind Maria and Jo, who were holding hands because of their high heels. She was right. Even when Jo walked through the house without panties, a bright jingle could be heard. At least twenty rings were dangling from Maria’s pussy now. You could hear it clearly. Jo had just briefly looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She liked the improvised updo that Maria had conjured up in a flash and practically cemented with an enormous amount of hairspray.

“You can do that more often.”

“Just wait and see how you get all that out again!”

 

Then they both stormed through the French doors into the living room and stopped dead in their tracks. At first, Jo felt enormous disappointment. She wanted to play some erotic games with Maria. That wouldn’t work, she thought. Because Marc and Rita were sitting next to Simon on the couch. And Simon didn’t show them the calendar, but the photo folder. Then Jo realized she was standing here in front of her roommates. Yes, there’s always someone walking around the house naked. But in this outfit. She spontaneously wants to turn around, but Maria holds her hand and whispers in her ear: “I want to do this now, no matter who’s watching.”

“We actually just wanted to get a glass of wine from you.” Marc looks embarrassed and makes a discreet move. But that doesn’t work with Rita.

“You two are so great! If you do something like this again, you have to take me with you. Can I come? Please!” Rita was absolutely thrilled.

Melly, who was now also in the room, smiled at her.

“Rita, sweetie, that was a real fetish shoot. You must know that. Is that your thing? Are you shaved, pierced, or tattooed?”

“Uh, of course I shave. And other than that, no, like, belly button, but I don’t know if that counts.” A cautious glance between Maria’s legs. “I’ve already thought about it. Maybe not that much right away. Even though it looks so hot.”

Marc wants to hide in shame.

“Think about it. You’re always welcome in the club, beautiful woman,” Melly beams. She points to the photos. “But they’ll demand a lot of you. Yeah, Maria, you were just about to show how the shoot went. That cute butt shot,” Melly prompts, as if someone had forgotten.

Jo had tried to sort out her feelings during the little exchange between Rita and Melly. A multitude of sensations overwhelmed her. Yes, she was offended. Were Simon and Melly really trying to show her off? Damn, Simon was her husband. Shouldn’t he want her to belong only to him, sexually speaking? She was surprised to realize that she was flattered to be shown off. But there was also shame. Already, she wasn’t just naked, no, she was dressed up in a rather pornographic way in front of her roommates. And suddenly, she realized that the thought of showing everything about herself to the other four turned her on completely. Finally, there was defiance. Did Melly and Simon really think they had everything under control?

She looked at the couch. There, on the far right, sat Simon, wearing simple black trousers and a black shirt. His thin, white-blonde braids, tied at the nape of his neck, touched his shoulder. Next to her was Melly. A long, tight skirt and a white blouse through which a black bra shimmered. Mouth blood red, eyes made up in black. Wafer-thin eyebrows, dyed-black hair styled high. Very beautiful. Very strict. And almost serious, were it not for the always perfectly shaved undercut and, for a few weeks now, the large butterfly that Melly had tattooed on the back of her shaved head. Next to her was Rita. Very pretty in her short black knit dress, her hair, just bleached white by Maria, loosely draped over her right shoulder. A subtly made-up face that, thanks to bleached and therefore more invisible eyebrows, consisted almost entirely of a mouth and large blue eyes. And finally, Marc, as usual, in black jeans and a hoodie. All four sat there fully clothed and looked as if they were spectators awaiting the start of a play, an event. In contrast to her and Maria. The most tattooed and pierced people in the room anyway. And not just naked. Clad in fetish accessories and with plugs in their butts. Jo realized how far they had both already strayed from the mainstream, from the normal. She herself, with her partially bald head and several large tattoos, Maria with her partially shaved and heavily tattooed head. And above all, her many conspicuous genital piercings. These weren’t the kind of well-groomed intimate areas you see in a sauna. They both had conspicuously designed, modified, and thus over-emphasized pussies that even a blind person couldn’t see past. A completely absurd situation. Jo considered a quick retreat. A bit embarrassing for everyone, but they probably wouldn’t talk about it later. It would leave a stale aftertaste after what should have been an exciting evening. Then she asked herself why she should do that. Four friends were sitting there, who wanted to see and experience her as she was. Next to her was an expectant Maria. And here she was, more aroused than she had been in a long time.

“Come to the fireplace, sweetie!” Jo took Maria’s hand, and she followed her without resistance. The fire radiated a pleasant warmth. Jo took Maria’s head in both hands and kissed her passionately. Now it was she who pushed her tongue into Maria’s mouth. Without breaking their embrace, they went down on their knees. Jo let go of Maria and, turning away from the couch, leaned forward. She loved the sight of her completely hairless anus. Why shouldn’t she show it to the others, as close and clear as possible? Melly had hooked the chain of the plug into one of her rings; it swung gently against the inside of her thigh. Maria had sat down right next to her. A glance over her shoulder confirmed Jo; Maria, too, was presenting her buttocks to the others. With her right hand, she repeatedly played with the horse’s tail. Jo remembered. She had pulled her buttock outward. Maybe I can improvise a bit, she thought. The rug in front of the fireplace was cozy, after all. She turned her head to Maria. She looked at her conspiratorially. Jo smiled back, placed her cheek on the floor, now also had her other hand free, and spread her buttocks with both hands. Heavy breathing from the spectators’ couch. With her right hand, she played with her butt plug, tugging on it a little, then letting it pop back in. The others should see everything, it flashed through her mind, and against considerable resistance, the plug left her anus. Jo stroked her still slightly open rosette a few times with the middle finger of her free left hand. Then the plug disappeared elegantly back into her anus. Maria grinned cheekily, also leaned her face on the floor, and reached between her legs with her now free left hand. There was a loud jingling sound, and Jo realized that Maria was stroking her pussy for everyone to see.

“Cuddling isn’t working like this, and it’s getting uncomfortable. But stay like this for a bit!” Jo straightens up again. She had to quickly take a look from behind as her friend played with her piercings. She kissed Maria on the perineum and whispered, “Which is your favorite picture?”

“You between my thighs, of course. At least right now.”

“Then just turn around.”

Jo had completely forgotten that they weren’t alone. What had only been hinted at in the castle, she now really wanted to experience. Maria lay in front of her, spread her bent legs, and Jo immediately buried her face between them. Maria’s pubic area, which had fascinated her from the beginning, now belonged to her. She licked it, gently at first, then more and more vigorously. It tasted good, a little bitter. My first real sex with a woman. And then with the hottest girl ever, it flashed through Jo’s mind. All too quickly, she felt Maria tremble, twitch, and a massive orgasm erupting. Jo continued stroking, letting her tongue wander toward her anus and feeling Maria grab her head and pull it up.

“You could go on like this forever, if it were up to me. But I’d like to return the favor. You remember the chair picture? I would have loved to continue that in the castle.”

Jo got up from Maria only hesitantly. But she couldn’t refuse Maria’s offer. She looked up briefly. Sure enough, four pairs of eyes were staring at her, spellbound. Jo didn’t think about it. She slumped into the fireside chair. The warmth from the fireplace radiated all the way here. And that was a good thing, because Jo noticed she’d been sweating slightly. She slid her bottom to the edge of the chair and spread her legs. Maria had been waiting for just this and knelt between Jo’s thighs.

“Don’t worry, your pussy will still be licked,” she whispered, but stretched out and gently bit Jo’s left nipple. For minutes, Maria devoted herself to her breasts, sucking them, licking them, nibbling on the nipples, and caressing them, sometimes gently, sometimes roughly.

“Thank you! I’ve always wanted to do that,” she whispered again. Although everyone in the room could surely hear it. Then Jo felt Maria’s tongue. First on her labia, then penetrating, and finally unerringly finding her clit. Jo wanted to watch. Maria’s little head, adorned with a raven, distorted, changed, between her legs, in her lap! And again, it happened much too quickly. Jo felt a gigantic orgasm building, which lasted and discharged in several spurts. She pressed Maria’s head between her thighs, never wanting to leave her.

By the time Jo was able to think more clearly again, Maria had sat down in the armchair, half on top of, half next to her. She absentmindedly played with Jo’s right breast and casually directed Jo’s hand between her legs. Jo wondered when shame and remorse would set in. Right now, she was simply fine. She felt a glass of red wine being raised to her lips. Simon handed it to her and whispered a “Thank you!” in her ear.

“Did you like our Christmas present?” Maria asked with subtle irony.

“That was, how should I say, incredible.” Melly had found her voice again. “I love you, you sex goddesses.” She raised her glass and beamed. But wasn’t there a hint of uncertainty in the look on both Simon and Melly’s faces? Were they sitting there a bit lost, excluded, next to each other? Jo wasn’t sure. And she enjoyed it.

“Oh, I’m completely hoarse,” they suddenly heard Rita, “but I have to tell you now. I have no idea if that was porn. But it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And that even though I’m not into women, not like that. Oh, I’m talking myself out of my mind. So thank you so much for letting me be there. That really was a great Christmas present.”

“Oh, Rita, let’s not get sentimental,” Jo protested. “And thank you for your candor. Otherwise, I would have been worried that we’d upset you. It’s a bit intrusive. And really, this was probably a gift from and to both of us, I have to admit that.”

Jo considered whether she should take the opportunity to say goodbye and head off to bed.

“Since I’m afraid you two have just exhausted yourselves and a continuation in our beds is rather unlikely, let’s sit here together for a while.” Simon had opened another bottle of wine.

“And please stay seated as you are,” Melly chimed in.

“If Simon adds more wood, we won’t even cover ourselves. The main thing is that Jo keeps her hand where she has it.”

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

It’s already past noon. I’ve wasted another whole morning with Maria, Jo scolds herself. But she doesn’t really regret it. They regularly take advantage of times like today, when she and Maria are alone in the house.

 

After the memorable Christmas Eve of the year before last, superficially nothing had changed in Erlenweg. At first, Marc had been a bit embarrassed in Maria’s or Jo’s presence. Rita, on the other hand, placed more value on physical proximity, which wasn’t unpleasant for either of them. Jo, of course, had hung up the calendar immediately, and Melly had made sure a large photo of her buttocks was put on the wall in the girls’ bathroom.

Upon closer inspection, it was noticeable that the friendship between Jo and Maria had changed. Random acts of affection in everyday life occurred constantly, a kiss in passing, a caress on the sofa. Even in the presence of others. For many weeks, however, it didn’t go any further. Then Jo happened to walk into the bathroom while Maria was in the shower.

“I just need to pee, don’t let me disturb you!”

Maria opened the shower door. “Then come into the shower with me!”

“I need to go, Maria.”

“Exactly. Come on!”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, I want to watch you.”

Jo took off her panties completely and pulled her shirt over her head.

“You’re crazy,” she giggled. And then she touched her friend’s wet, smooth skin and suddenly realized what she’d been missing all this time. Maria had turned off the water, but Jo was already completely wet.

“Come on!”

“It won’t.”

“Wait!” Maria stroked Jo’s stomach, applied a little pressure, then ran her fingers between Jo’s labia, and the tension eased. Warm liquid flowed over Maria’s hand and splashed into the shower tray, running down Jo’s legs. Both women stared down, mesmerized, while Maria didn’t stop working on Jo’s pussy. Only when it all dried up did Maria beam at Jo.

“That was hot, sweetie. Thanks!” And turned the water back on. Now there was no stopping Jo. First with her hand, then with her mouth while squatting in front of Maria, she brought her friend to orgasm, sometimes thinking she was almost drowning.

 

Since then, the two have repeatedly taken advantage of opportunities for sex. Often, there are weeks between them. Sometimes they only last a few days without each other.

 

Today had been one of those mornings. Maria had a day off, and Jo was working at home anyway. Maria had actually planned to devote herself to Jo’s hair. Instead, they had spent two full hours in bed together.

 

“Do you think they know about us?” Jo, who was still sitting on the couch cuddled up to her friend, suddenly became serious. “This can’t last forever.”

“Sometimes I think Melly knows about us and she enjoys it. But maybe I’m completely wrong.”

“I also think from time to time that Simon knows exactly what I’m doing with you. We’re not really secretive. But does he realize that we often have real sex? Doesn’t Melly smell when I’ve been in your bed for an hour or two? I would immediately smell if Simon had been in our bed with a stranger.”

“Well, first of all, you sometimes lounge in our bed with Melly. And maybe she likes it when there’s still a hint of Jo.”

“Actually, I should tell Simon, I should have told her long ago. But I’m afraid that I’ll ruin something. I don’t want to miss either of you. But if Simon says he can’t, then I’d have to choose between you. I couldn’t do that.”

Maria gives her a long kiss. “I feel the same way. But maybe we’re just too scared, and both of us would just wonder why we two squares kept the obvious a secret for so long. It’s probably completely different anyway. Simon and Melly are similar and smart. And they know us both damn well. They’ve known what’s going on between us for a long time. We should start looking for hidden cameras. I was kidding!”

“I had that suspicion last fall. You know, that crazy thing…”

Maria involuntarily runs her hand over the slightly raised scar on her right buttock, which occasionally itches slightly.

 

After long months without any particular excitement, it was another unforgettable experience in Maria and Jo’s lives. A weekend trip for the four of them, it had been said. Three days in Berlin. Clubs, a few friends. Nothing special. On the last day, Monday, they drove from the hotel not onto the Autobahn, but to a tattoo studio. Maria and Jo exchanged brief, questioning glances. They had a regular tattoo artist at home whom they trusted. Why a foreign city? They only took on that for special occasions. Like last summer.

 

That’s when Melly had driven to southern Germany with Maria. After a week, they returned, Maria with a forked tongue. But that had been agreed upon between the two. Only Jo hadn’t been informed. Maria said she was afraid Jo would advise her against it. After it had healed, however, Jo had become the biggest fan of this peculiarity of her secret lover. Whether Maria’s snake tongue flashed out casually or whether she was pampering Jo with it, it was an erotic experience. And it suited Maria, the current Maria, as if she’d never had another tongue in her mouth. Jo, on the other hand, wanted more tattoos, but hadn’t had any really good ideas, neither about the body part nor the motif.

What was it all about here and now, Jo wondered. And why were there four of them? Obviously, there had been specific agreements. And Simon and Melly had done it together, that much was clear. The tattoo artist proudly showed Simon a custom-made tool that made Jo jump, while it took Maria a few seconds to realize it was a branding iron. Jo fretted about which of the two it should target. Hadn’t Maria once talked about such fantasies? But it was Simon who had just declared his enthusiasm for the custom-made tattoo.

“Which of you two pretty girls wants to go first?” they were asked. Jo realized that she and her friend were about to be branded. All the explanations about branding and its care and healing went unnoticed by Jo.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d go first, okay?” Maria asked quietly. Jo just nodded. There were obviously no unanswered questions about the placement either. Maria was asked to pull down her panties.

“It’s best if you take them off completely, they’ll just get in the way. You too, Jo!” Melly chimed in. Without protest, they both followed suit and presented their jewelry boxes to the visibly impressed—yes, what kind of job is that?—Jo only remembered fragments of everything else. Maria on the couch, lots of disinfectant on her right buttock, the sound of a gas burner, red-hot iron being pressed against Maria’s sweet bottom, the smell of burning flesh, and Maria’s face contorted in pain. To Jo’s astonishment, a proud smile and a quiet “You can do it too.” And then it was Jo’s turn. First, cool disinfectant on her right buttock, then a previously unknown pain, which was quickly replaced by an intense but more bearable burning sensation. Only now did she have time to take a closer look at Maria’s bottom. A fiery red alder cone, about ten by seven centimeters in size, glowed against Maria’s white skin. Jo stood up unaided, staggered toward Maria, and took her in her arms. A few tears now flowed from both of them. What have they done to us? Jo asked herself. She felt humiliated, confused. Then she broke away from the embrace and looked into Maria’s face. There was pride, excitement, and a great deal of affection. Where was Maria looking? In a floor-length mirror behind her, in which Jo’s bottom was reflected. She gently turned Maria around. They both stood side by side, looking over their shoulders. In the mirror, they saw two young women in knee-high black boots, naked from the waist down. Both had slender thighs that formed a distinct gap, between which prominent labia with numerous silver rings were unmistakable. Both bore identical, bright red brands on their right buttocks. Jo was seized by a violent excitement. So violent because it affected both Maria and her.

The brands were placed to the sides and high enough that one could sit without pain. They healed faster than Jo had feared. And both were lucky. A beautiful keloid formation developed. Jo had read about it. Sometimes the brands become pale and only slightly raised after healing. Sometimes more scar tissue forms, leaving a slight redness.

 

Jo instinctively glances at Maria’s branding. It stands out clearly from the surrounding skin and, more than six months later, still has a pale red color. And Jo’s scar looks similar.

“That was such an intense shared experience. It was no coincidence that Simon and Melly branded us together. And I think they knew and wanted to create an eternal connection between us.”

“But also to themselves. It’s the alder, the alder path. It’s also a message to us that we belong right here,” Jo said. “I’ve thought about that, too. It’s not just, how should I put it, an expression of ownership. It extends to both of us. I would have liked to have overheard those two before when they hatched their plan.”

“So I’m in favor of just carrying on as before.”

“Although every now and then I do imagine what it would be like if all four of us…”

“You just want to sleep with Melly, admit it!” Maria laughed.

“Aren’t you even in the mood for Simon?”

“If you fuck me really hard with a strap-on, that’s actually enough for me, although, maybe…”

Jo feels Maria’s snake tongue playing around her right nipple. That always drives her crazy.

“That’s enough now, we had something else planned.” She gently frees herself from Maria. “You really need to take care of my hair, look! You only have to pluck a few hairs, but they’ve grown quite long.”

“Shouldn’t I just shave them this time?” Maria asks, surprised.

“God, no! Why is that?”

“Well, don’t you also feel like the intervals are getting longer, that there are fewer hairs?”

Jo considers it. “A little, maybe, it could be.”

“You know, when you pull out hair, you always destroy a few hair follicles along with it. That’s why most people just shave. It’s the same with eyebrows. For women who have been plucking their brows for years, they eventually stop growing back at all, or only grow back in patches. For example, I’ve been doing it for almost ten years, and almost nothing grows back. But I don’t care. I’ll just paint them in for the rest of my life. I’m not sure if it’s the same with the hair on your head.”

Jo feels a slight rumble in her stomach. In the last few months, she’d done suspiciously little on her head. Could her hair growth really have been permanently reduced? “And you think there’s already less hair on my head?”

Maria meekly: “I don’t know. But I don’t think much has grown back lately. I feel guilty. I should have shaved it off from the start. Instead, I thought I’d do it completely differently than everyone else. And then it looked so great. The epilation thing was my idea, not Simon’s. He thought I’d just shave it, like I did the sides of my head.”

Maria seems crestfallen, and Jo consoles her. “Don’t blame yourself! After all, I continued with it afterward. Right now, I can’t imagine anything else.”

“Me neither. But you’re only twenty-five. How will you feel when you’re fifty and the hair on the front of your head stops growing?”

“What would be the alternative, Maria? Shave every day from now on and wait to see what grows back in six months? I’d have to give up my wonderfully smooth, soft scalp for that. But I’ve been completely at peace with my current appearance for the past two years. I can’t imagine anything else right now. To be honest, I don’t even want to.”

Jo thinks for a moment. “And what would I do as a result of this regrowth experiment? If normal hair growth returned, I might be a little relieved and most likely ask you to go through the painful initial hair removal process again instead of just shaving now. After all, permanent damage isn’t to be expected. If there were already damage to the hair cells, as you fear, I’d certainly be shocked at first, but I’d have no choice but to continue removing hair indefinitely.”

Jo strokes Maria’s head, which she shaved yesterday. It doesn’t feel bad, just a little rough. Then she touches her velvety-soft scalp.

“No, please keep doing it right! I’m a little embarrassed, but somehow it’s actually quite tempting to think that half of my skull will always stay this smooth on its own. It turns me on. The certainty that I’ve been made into someone else and that I can’t hide it or ever undo it. Look, I’m getting goosebumps! It’s a bit of a perversion, isn’t it? Can you relate?”

Maria looked Jo seriously in the eyes. “Better than you think. Even after more than a year, I sometimes look in the mirror unprepared and get a shock. And I think, ‘You’ll never get your old face back.’ That makes me sad, but it also excites me completely. And I wonder, what if I had the design on my head, on my face, here and now, and could decide: Should we do it now?”

“And?”

“I would say, ‘Please tattoo me! Make me a tattooed goth bitch! Because that’s exactly how I want to look right now!'” Maria exclaimed. “Now come into the bathroom, let’s give you a nice bald head, maybe forever!”