I idolized my roommate. She was attractive, popular, willful, self-assured—everything I wasn't. I wasn't out as a lesbian—my love life consisted of a series of crushes, and discrete masturbation.
Sometimes not as discrete as it should have been. We had one hamper in our double room. We took turns doing the laundry. I knew every pair of panties she had. Intimately. Sometimes, when Mary was safely out for the afternoon, I would take her panties from the drawer, turn them inside-out, and sniff the gusset that had been in long contact with her cunt. With one hand I would unbutton and unzip my jeans and rub my clit while I smelled her pussy-scented panties, and thought about how my face was where it had been. And, I had to admit, I was a little excited by the risk of getting caught, at the thought of how ashamed I would be to be found sniffing another girl's panties!
Then one day my "wish" came true. The door clicked as Mary put her key in the lock. I couldn't both put the panties back and close my pants, so there I was, fussing with my fly, her panties in hand!
"So, you've been having fun all by yourself! Don't stop for my sake. Keep doing what you were doing. Let's seen what you have there," she said, extending her hand. "Those are obviously my panties, and you've obviously been enjoying them. And obviously, you don't want the whole dorm to know that you sniff panties. So here's what we're going to do. First, get on your knees."
I looked at her incredulously. "Do as I tell you now. If not, just think of what fun you'll have in the laundry room when all the other girls know. Any time they forget a pair of Jockey for Her in the dryer, they'd think you'd nicked them. Now kneel."
I did as I was told. Mary took the panties, turned them inside out, and put them over my head, so the gusset was right over my nose and mouth.
"Now you're going to finish playing with yourself. I want to see you cum in your panties with mine on your head. Go on, put your hand down your pants, Quick, like a bunny!"
I obeyed. Ashamed, but excited, I did as I was told. She lay on the bed and took up a magazine. "You just go right on ahead. I'm not that interested in watching. After all, I'm not a panty-sniffing dyke."
I rubbed my clit with my middle finger. A nice circular motion, the kind that always worked. The humiliation of kneeling in front of Mary, with her underwear over my face, while she ignored me, leafing through a magazine, was too much for me. I soon came, hard, gasping.
"That's just how it should be. You whimpering into my panties while you soak your own. What a good girl you are! Now hand me back my panties and kneel here by the bed."
I did as I was told. Mary stood there, I knelt before her, while she unbuckled her belt. I watched in awe as she unbuttoned, unzipped and pushed her jeans down. Her panted crotch, which I had so often stolen glances at while she undressed, was inches from my face!
"Here's how it's going to work, panty sniffer. From now on you're going to be my cunt slave."
She took off her panties, sat on the bed and spread her legs. "There it is, kiss it for me nicely.
"That's just how I want you, on all fours like a good little dog." She pushed my face closer to her cunt. "That's where your face belongs. Now lick me. Good girl!"
I kissed her pussy, and tentatively drew the tip of my tongue along her slit. When I pressed with the tip of my tongue, it slid easily in—she was already wet. The heat of her cunt was a little unexpected, as was the taste of her wetness. Of course I had often sucked my own finger to taste myself, but tasting another girl was a new and intoxicating experience. I breathed in deeply through my nostrils, to savor the smell of her arousal, remotely but thrillingly tinged with the scent of piss.
"Lap it for me nice and slow, Jenny. Really take your time. I want to build up slowly to cumming. And I want you to get a good long taste of my pussy. Part of making you a real cunt slave is imprinting you with my taste, my smell. That's how you really know your owner.
"And that's why it's so important you came in your own panties first. Of course I like seeing you kneeling humiliated, with a dark wet spot at your crotch, a panty sniffing girl who wets herself for me. But it's even more important you're not distracted by your own selfish needs. That you give your fullest attention to worshipping my cunt."
I did. I lapped slowly and deeply, my nose in her bush, unable to see past her navel, tasting her vagina as fully as I did my own abasement, my face between another girl's legs, letting her use my mouth to masturbate.
I thickened my tongue to thrust in as deep as I could, using it like a short fat penis. It made me feel like such a wet pathetic hole, with nothing between my legs but a renewed spreading wetness, trying to do what a man would do with his dick. But I knew I was pleasing her so much better than any man could with his crude deep poking and insensitive pounding. The action of my tongue was worship, a slow deliberate demonstration that her pussy was something to be kissed and licked and adored. I kept returning to her swollen clit, now grazing it, now rubbing it with insistent circular tongue motions, teasing it and pleasing it. Unlike a man, I really knew how to make a woman cum!
When she finally bucked against my mouth, pulling my face in with both hands, I stayed motionless with tongue extended, feeling her contractions as she came in my mouth. I felt every shudder as deeply as she did—
I shook too, and moaned, my breath came quickly. It wasn't a climax, but an occult participation in Mary's orgasm. I thought of those lines from the Bhagavad Gita that had always baffled yet intrigued me,
Your self subdued, your senses conquered,
other beings lose their otherness,
you see them as not just as "beings like yourself"
but as beings who are yourself:
grasping this, no action stains you,
but you move in purity . . .
I experienced more than pleasure—this was ecstasy. My worship of her had been no mere metaphor. I had literally tasted a higher reality, and now I moved in love-drunk purity . .
Gently applying the heel of her hand to my forehead, Mary pushed my face away. I looked at her cunt, her yoni. This Sanskrit term is derived from the verbal root yu, meaning to take hold, to take possession of, to unite with. I had given myself to it, as an offering: it had taken me.
Yoni is a much more empowered term than vagina, which is a Latin word meaning "sheathe." The Roman's viewed the woman as a passive receptacle.
The good old Germanic word "cunt" has no certain furthest etymology but its negative resonance is all too well known. It's one of the most taboo words in English, and a woman has a hard time coming up with a response when a man calls her a "cunt." To call a man a dick or a prick just doesn't have the impact—the word "cunt" has been so steeped in millennia of contempt for women. Though there's not a single term that can be hurled in response to "cunt," I've had good results by replying in a way that more than matches the low level of the insult, and in fact takes the discourse so much lower that (so far) no man has been able to match it. I use the primordial comeback, "I know you are, but what am I?"
Which brings me back to my confrontation with Mary's yoni, in which context the grammar school catch-phrase took on an unsuspected depth of meaning. Her cunt, saturated with being, metaphysically present, was supremely real. But what was my order of being?
I know thou art, but what am I?
Mary had turned around, gotten up on all fours on the bed, her ass facing me.
"Now this is how you will show your gratitude for being allowed to lick my cunt. You will lick my ass. Go on, get your face in there."
I spread her cheeks with my hands and looked at the perfect little asterisk of her anus.
"What are you waiting for? Kiss it Jenny. Kiss it like a good girl who knows her place."
I kissed it. Tentatively, shyly, embarrassed.
"Put your tongue in there, cunt slave. You know you want to. Do it. Now.
I obeyed. I tongued her ass deeply. I held her by the hips and pulled her ass to my face. Her cheeks against mine, I surveyed her back as I tongued her.
"That's where your pink submissive tongue belongs, right up there. Do a good job now."