“You can take that off now.” Samira’s voice was calm.
Kylie lifted the blindfold off and let her eyes adjust. They sat at a table in a rooftop bar. Near the edge, in fact. The lights of the city spread out around them, the sinking sun still bright in the western sky. And seated opposite her was... Samira, dressed in an embroidered, button-down shirt, her long legs peeking out from under a short, pleated skirt. A bolero jacket gave her a touch of sophistication, but with the sunset lighting her dark, tightly curled hair and her rich brown eyes, she looked positively radiant. Kylie’s heart pounded, and she was at a loss for words.
The difference between Kylie’s look, with its emphasis on exposing her body to view and raw sex appeal, and Samira’s elegant, confident femininity could not be clearer. As Samira handed Kylie a menu, Kylie understood a little better. Her role tonight was not to be Samira’s equal, rival or her best friend, but her arm candy, on display. It was... a little degrading, but also flattering, and her arousal had been mounting since she left the house.
“So... you’re my date. And we’re having dinner.” Kylie couldn’t think of how to express her surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Samira arched her brows, her lips curled into a smile. “Who exactly did you think I’d be willing to share you with, Carmela? Or Kylie, I guess I can call you again?”
“I mean, I thought you’d enjoy watching other people get a chance to see me like this...”
“Yes,” said Samira. “But I can do that here, and on the way home...” The rooftop bar was nearly empty, but Kylie noticed people curiously watching them from through the windows.
Samira silently drunk in Kylie’s appearance, studying every aspect of the look Dina and Jessica had lavished attention on, from her new haircut, the way makeup accentuated her soft features, her curves and the exposed side of her breasts... and her legs, which had never looked so long and delicate. Kylie could feel the heat in Samira’s gaze.
“Wow,” said Samira. “So... a dress with panels open on both sides, huh?” She smiled at Kylie. “I do like the look. I was watching your progress via Jessica’s phone, you know.”
Kylie blushed. “So did you enjoy seeing me... walk out of the dressing room, in front of Dina and Jessica... with your period blood on my face and my lips... like that?”
Samira’s eyes were unreadable. “None of this was my idea, Kylie. You know that. I just have to... clean it up.”
“Okay,” said Kylie. She could feel the blush deepening in her cheeks. “Can I ask... if we hadn’t messed up and accidentally used the camera, if this would have happened?”
“By this you mean... would we ever have gone on a date?” Now Samira seemed slightly uncomfortable. “Kylie or Kyle, I’ve always cared about you. But I don’t know... we’ve been best friends our whole lives, haven’t we? Wouldn’t we have... I don’t know, dated a long time ago, if that’s what we wanted?”
“Yeah. That makes sense.” Kylie couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness.
“It’s weirdly intimate having someone know about my curse. I mean, intimate in ways besides the fact that we have to fuck to deactivate it. You’re the only friend I’ve ever had who knows that my naked body transforms people...”
Kylie blinked. “You mean there are strangers who know?”
“Well, yeah.” Samira shrugged. “How do you think I have sex? I mean, I tried with the lights off, but that doesn’t go so well once your eyes adjust. I’ve had sex with guys so drunk that they think they hallucinated, and girls who didn’t mean swapping places with me temporarily, then re-enacting some gay porn together.”
Kylie’s eyes widened. She hadn’t considered all the ramifications. Samira’s curse first transformed Samira and the person it affected into copies of each other, and then... turned them into idealized fantasies. Samira turned into Sam, a guy with the compact muscular build of a wrestler and a meaty cock, while Kyle had become... Kylie herself, poured into a red bodycon dress. If the two of them had opposite-gender fantasies, but Samira had slept with girls, did that mean...?
Samira saw the look on her face. “You’re trying to figure out whether the queer ladies I’ve hooked up with are really straight, because they turned into guys like Sam, or whether they fantasize about being guys who get with other guys?” She leaned forward, her chocolate-brown eyes glittering with a wicked light. “I don’t know, sugar. It’s not always that simple. Do you want to be Kylie, or fuck Kylie?”
Kylie stammered. “I mean... that’s not--”
Then she felt something hard press into the top of her foot and realized that it was the heel of Samira’s suede calf boots. Samira ran her boot up and down the top of Kylie’s foot, gently stroking it up her calf, teasing Kylie through the sheer black stockings.
“Oh!” Kylie squeaked. “What are you--”
“I think I know the answer to the question,” Samira said, fixing Kylie with an intent look. She reached over the table, cupping her date’s chin. Kylie felt acutely aware of the eyes on the other side of the window. “That girl in that red dress... do you want to be her? Or do you want to fuck her?”
Kylie’s heart thumped, and she glanced at the glass. The angle of the sun made the building’s shiny windows reflective, and she saw two women, one of them blonde and curvy, with her chest nearly popping out and her lips parted and the other, dark-skinned, with shining dark eyes and a smile playing over her mouth. The reflected image of herself felt unreal, alien. Too hot, too attention-grabbing.
“Right now,” she gasped, “I just want to be fucked by a particular girl.”
“Good,” said Samira. She had a dark look in her eyes, a burning intensity. “Then let’s order. You need to keep your energy up.”
The waitress approached, and the two of them perused their menus. Kylie could barely think about food; she kept thinking of Samira’s foot on her calf, and Sam’s hands on her hips. She managed to order an appetizer and a small salad before realizing Samira was watching her.
“Um, I don’t know how much food I can fit in this stomach, not to mention the dress...” Kylie’s voice sounded girlishly self-conscious in her own ears.
Samira’s foot was back again, her boot-heel tracing its way higher, to the soft flesh of Kylie’s thigh. “That’s not why I was looking at you,” Samira said. “I was thinking, how far are you willing to go in public? Now that you’re discovering the pleasures of... being exposed?”
Kylie tried to protest, but the boot inched higher, and her breathing hitched. She looked across the table at her best friend and locked eyes, feeling the warm blood rush to her pussy. Without even noticing, she found her legs spread wider, and Samira’s boot sliding up to her exposed crotch.
“Right here?” asked Kylie. She couldn’t catch her breath. “On the rooftop bar. What are you--”
“Shhhh.” Samira smiled, her expression casual even as her foot explored Kylie’s body under the table.
The waitress returned with their drinks, and Kylie squeaked and closed her legs, flushing. Samira’s boot was wedged tight, and Kylie could feel Samira’s heel rubbing her sensitive, wet cunt. The waitress didn’t seem to notice, but as Kylie shifted in her seat, she could feel the thin material of her G-string between her pussy lips, the fabric stretching against her labia as the boot heel caught in it.
Then the waitress was gone, with nary a raised eyebrow. The woman was either preoccupied or a consummate professional, Kylie thought. She returned her attention to Samira, squirming a little and feeling the boot grind into her.
Samira looked pleased, her eyes crinkling with amusement. She drank with her free hand, never ceasing to rock the heel of her boot into Kylie. “How are you doing, baby girl?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” said Kylie, trying to regain some of Kyle’s boldness. “Did you want to fuck me right here, with your foot? Is that your plan?” She slid forward, just slightly, and pressed her pelvis hard into Samira’s boot, grinding into the pleasure.
Samira chuckled, her foot pressing the fabric tight against Kylie’s pussy. “Is that what you want? For me to step on your hot little pussy, press the heel into your clit... make you scream for me? Or maybe you want me to take you in the bathroom, bend you over a stall and fuck you with my hand...”
Kylie breathed hard. “You know what I want. My job now is to get you off, Samira.”
“Then maybe I should make sure you understand the psychology of female pleasure better than Kyle ever did,” said Samira. “You want to be a good girl, right?” Her voice was soft.
Kylie nodded, swallowing. Her heart was thumping again, and her throat was dry. “How can I--”
“First,” said Samira. “We make sure you’re fed.” She withdrew her foot. “Even if it’s just a salad. And then...” Samira’s eyes flashed. “See, pleasure relates to control. You can either maintain complete control, or give up every ounce to another person... but both ways can work. You know how long it takes to cum as Kyle, right? Almost no time at all. Why do you think that is?”
Their food arrived, and Kylie thought about the answer as she pushed around greens with a fork. “Because... I was in control, but not. I could pretty much cum on a hair-trigger, but I never felt out of control.” She took a bite, tasting the bitter bite of arugula and fennel, the tart lemon vinaigrette. “Best of both worlds?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Samira had a thoughtful look on her face. “But sometimes, when you have no control, it’s... liberating. The orgasm is stronger. Did you feel that way in the dressing room earlier, pet?”
Kylie cringed, remembering. The humiliation had been intense, a sense of helplessness that had led to the most satisfying, powerful climaxes she’d ever had. “Maybe,” she said. “I felt... exposed. Really open. I still do.”
“I’ll say you do.” Samira’s foot was back, but she’d slipped her boot off without Kylie noticing. Her big toe arched and poked gently at the front of Kylie’s crotch, nudging the dangling end of her G-string aside and pressing in. Her other toes stroked gently against Kylie’s mound, rubbing and teasing her.
“What... are you going to--” Kylie started, distracted. Samira grinned, and twisted her toes, working them into the moist fabric of the thong and sending an electric shock of pleasure straight up Kylie’s spine.
“What does it feel like I’m going to do to you, pet?”
Kylie tried to maintain her composure. “You’re going to make me cum right here.”
“Do you want me to do that, Kylie?” The dark-haired girl kept twisting her toes into Kylie’s tender flesh, rubbing her pussy through the panties. She could feel the wetness oozing out now, coating Samira’s toes, and the pleasure mounting.
Kylie bit her lip. “I...”
“Ask me to make you cum, Kylie.”
“Please make me cum, mistress,” Kylie squeaked. The request was incredibly arousing and intensely humiliating. Her eyes flicked from side to side; could the people inside tell what was going on under the table?
“Be honest with me if that’s what you want, Kylie. Tell me why you want this so bad, why you want to be... her.” Samira tossed her head toward their reflection.
Kylie could barely think, barely speak. Samira’s feet had found a sweet, slow rhythm, the ball of her foot pressing her pussy lips apart, the heel of her foot nudging up and down. Her silken toe slipped inside Kylie’s wet cunt, probing gently, and a little involuntary noise escaped Kylie’s throat.
“I—I want to be pretty. I want people to look at me and see a body to fuck, not just a face in the crowd. I want... you to want me, Samira. Not as Kyle, but as me. I want to show you this.”
The toe slipped deeper, and Kylie clenched down around it, trapping it inside her. “You want to be my slut.”
“Yes... and I want...” She gasped. “I want Sam’s fat cock deep in my pussy.”
Samira’s eyes flashed. “You want me? Or you want me as Sam.” Her toe was insistent, sliding slick across her clit.
Kylie groaned, her thighs parting. She could feel the juice running down her leg as Samira teased her, rubbing her slick digit deeper, coaxing the pleasure out of her. The feeling was rising in her, the orgasm imminent.
“Answer me, sharmouta.” The toe stopped moving, and Kylie tried to thrust her hips forward, to draw Samira deeper inside. But the other girl held still, her foot motionless.
Kylie’s cunt burned and ached, but she held back her answer, forcing herself to hold off as long as possible, to be obedient and truthful. “Both, Samira, please.”
“Both, huh? Both your childhood best friend and your horny new boyfriend? You want to fuck us both?” Samira’s smile was sly, and her toes resumed their stroking, teasing at Kylie’s entrance and swirling around her sensitive clit.
“I want... you, Samira. Whoever you are... at any moment.”
Samira’s eyes widened, and then a smile played at her lips. “You want me? All of me. Then cum, little pet. Show me who you are. Cum for me, Kylie.” Her toes wiggled, and she worked them inside Kylie’s tight pussy, her heel grinding into her mound.
Kylie’s pleasure rose, her breath coming in quick pants, and she stared into Samira’s dark eyes as she finally gave in to the pleasure, her body trembling, the orgasm crashing through her. She didn’t want to scream or knock over the table, so she held back, but her entire body shuddered and twitched as her cunt squeezed down around Samira’s toe, the wave of release and ecstasy drowning her.
When the orgasm subsided, it left Kylie panting, her eyes watering, staring at her own reflection. She saw Samira, smiling in delight, and Kylie’s own flushed face and lust-glazed eyes. Although the tablecloth concealed her from the waist down, her chest heaved, and the tight dress was visibly damp with sweat in the hollow between her breasts.
She could only imagine how her body looked beneath the table: her legs spread wide and Samira’s foot buried deep inside her, the juices streaming down her thighs. On the other side of the window, invisible in the glare of the setting sun, Kylie could feel the stares of the diners. She stared back, her eyes wide, feeling utterly exposed.
Samira dragged her foot out of Kylie’s pussy, drawing the soaked G-string up with her and rubbing the wetness into her slit. Kylie shuddered.
“Thank you, mistress.”
“You’re very welcome, Kylie.” Samira stood. “I think that’s enough for today, don’t you? We don’t want you to be too tired for our after-dinner activities, right?”
Kylie sat back in her seat and took a long drink of water. “Right.”
