Just June Pt. 03

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It was a *ping* from Pixie’s phone which disturbed their early morning drowsy cuddle. Neither Pixie nor June felt like getting up, so they snuggled up and basked in the mutual warmth.

“Get it, Pixie, it’s okay?”

“You sure?” Pixie asked, much preferring to ignore the outside world in favour of this new, better world she had just discovered.

“Yes, go on, I have a feeling.”

Pixie grabbed the phone.

“It’s a text.”

“Don’t tell me,” said June, “Kate?”

“How did you know?” Pixie asked.

In truth June did not know how she knew, any more than she knew what Pixie needed when they made love.

“I just do,” was all June could say. “What does she want?”

“Here,” said Pixie, not wanting to keep anything from her gorgeous lover, “take a look? I am going to tell her where to go.”

June looked:

“Slut. Good girl for waiting. Today you will sluttify yourself and I will inspect you later. You must be ready to be used. K”

“No, don’t delete it!”

“Why not? The cow let me down, and I am out of her thrall.”

“What’s a thrall?” June laughed. “I can see I am going to have to have a dictionary book marked if we are to be together.”

Pixie’s heart leapt and she could not help blurting out:

“Do you want that?”

June, once more marvelled at her lover’s insecurity.

“Yes, you silly tart, why else would I be here?”

“A tart, am I?” Pixie giggled, “well as long as it is YOUR tart. But I am not playing Kate’s game.”

June smiled at her new lover’s protestations, loving her for them.

“No, but you are going to play my game, understood?”

“Yes, Miss,” Pixie giggled.

“When you are in this mood, yes, but you do know I am no domme?”

“Oh,” Pixie laughed lightly, “you think could forget you calling yourself my slut?”

It was June’s turn to laugh. She loved the give and take between them. It would, she thought, not only make a relationship possible, but it would also allow her to pay Kate back for the way she had treated both of them; not that Pixie yet knew that story.

“So, what do I reply?”

“Yes, Miss, you silly tart!”

Pixie did that, and got an immediate reply:

“Good girl. I will be at your door at six, text me the number.”

Pixie did that then looked at June, who was busy texting. When she had finished, Pixie asked:

“So what’s the plan?”

“Oh,” June smiled broadly, “that’s for me to know and you to experience. But, love, before we continue, I have to ask you to trust me.”

As her eyes locked with Pixie’s, she knew the response before it was given.

“I do trust you June, it is myself I doubt.”

“I know, but trust me and you may end by trusting yourself too. Now, shower and breakfast?”

“I will,” Pixie promised, going to the bathroom, and running a shower for June.

As the hot water ran over June’s body, she regretted only one thing, that it washed away the evidence of their night of passion. She smiled at Pixie, who was watching her. She did not use the “l” word lightly, she never had with Kate, so how, after only a few hours with this woman could she? Then, as she looked at Pixie and saw that light in her eyes, she knew she was not the only one having such thoughts.

“I do,” Pixie said, simply and directly. “Love you, that is. Is that too much too soon?”

June felt her whole body tingle, and her lips moved:

“Yes, it is too much and too soon, but I love you too.”

Pixie giggled.

“I’d love to shower with you!”

“I’d love that too, but you and I have some work to do!”

Pixie grinned at her:

“Yes, Miss!”

“I am not a Miss,” June said, only to realise she had set Pixie up:

“No you are a hit with me!”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you are impossible?”

“Incorrigible, perhaps,” Pixie quipped back.

“Geeze, I am going to have to bookmark that dictionary if we are going to be lovers.”

“What was last night then?” Pixie grinned, “just your bit of fun with your slut?”

“It was more than a bit, and more than that, and if you are anyone’s slut, it’s mine.” Then, turning serious, June added: “I do, Pixie, have only one rule – it’s me and just me, or nothing.”

Pixie looked seriously at her.

“So what’s this thing with Kate then?”

“Payback,” said June, “she hurt you, she hurt me, and it is time someone made her pay.”

“Wow,” said Pixie, “I like you in this mood.”

“Good,” said June. “I am a simple girl, but I hate dishonesty. You did not answer my question.”

“Question?” Pixie asked, feigning innocence, “I thought that was a statement of ownership?”

“If you want to be with me, that would be love, not ownership.”

“What if I want that too?”

“Well,” June laughed, turning the shower off and beginning to dry herself with the towel Pixie had provided, “as long as it is co-ownership.”

“Deal,” Pixie said, “and as for the Kate thing, I will trust you.”

“Good,” said June, putting on some deodorant, “cos I’ve no idea what I am doing, except that I think it might work. Now, istanbul travesti you, shower.”

“Okay,” Pixie said, “oh, and I took the liberty of asking the hotel to get some fresh panties for you.”

June blushed.

“You what?”

“Well,” Pixie said, “I thought you’d want to be nice and fresh. No walk of shame.”

“You think of everything, now, you, shower!”

And there, on the bed, was a fresh pack of Chantelle panties. How on earth did Pixie know? Then June saw her discarded panties on the dressing table by Pixie’s mobile. So that was how she knew.

“So,” she said, as Pixie emerged in her towel, “I take it your conference finished last night?”

“Yes,” Pixie said, as she dried herself, June watching with pleasure as her lover seemed to take a delight in exposing her body to her. She enjoyed watching as Pixie got into her pure white cotton panties, and complimented her on her dress.

“Armani Exchange, unless I am mistaken?”

“Is it?” Pixie asked, “I just bought it because I liked it, and Armani is good, isn’t it?”

June smiled wistfully, “put it this way, I wish I could afford it. You look cute in it. How come you are so petite? Is it in the family?”

“No,” Pixie said, pleased to hear June’s verdict, “it’s a genetic thing confined to me, basically I stopped growing too soon!”

As June would later reflect, that was typical of Pixie, to downplay the whole thing. But that was one of the many things they had in common, a refusal to resort to self-pity or drama; they both believed in “getting on” with things.

“But,” June added, “I am afraid this is a non-Armani shopping trip. We need to sluttify you.”

“For her?” Pixie blushed.

“For me, and for us, so trusting me starts here.”

Pixie swallowed hard and, seeing what was in June’s eyes just nodded her head.

“I did, I do, and I will.”

They both had the same thought at the same moment.

“Good practice, Pix!”

That cut across Pixie’s, “Practice makes…”

They both laughed.

Over breakfast, June outlined her plans for the day to Pixie, who, given that she had thought she would be spending the day with Kate, had nothing planned. Luckily, it was one of June’s rare days off, so they could spend the day together, but, at June’s insistence, there would be no “fun” until the business of the day was seen to.

“Now, missy, first we are going to do a little shopping in places you probably never see.”

‘Yes, Miss,” Pixie smiled. “Well, if you are going to be Miss Bossy Boots, I am responding in kind.”

“Well,” said, June, “as long as you enjoy the game. It may help get you in the mood.”

June took Pixie into one of the chain stores, where she selected some clothes from the cheaper end of the market.

“Right, in there and try them on.”

“I don’t like communal changing rooms, June.”

“Oh, so this is your idea of doing as you are told is it?”

Pixie scurried off with June to the changing room.

June had her try on a number of skirts and tops, before deciding on a sleeveless ruched casual tank dress for the evening, and a short, blue, bodycon dress for daywear. Both served to emphasise the cuteness of Pixie’s bum, and the flatness of her chest. As Pixie looked at herself in the bodycon dress she wondered if she could be brave enough to wear it tonight, and was duly surprised when June reappeared with an assistant, who took the tag off the dress as June said:

“She will wear it to go.”

The assistant gave Pixie an appraising look.

“Good choice, she looks cute.”

“She is,” June smiled.

“Right, on to the next appointment.”

To Pixie’s acute embarrassment that was a sex shop, where she bought what June told her to buy.

At lunch, Pixie was aware that she was attracting attention.

“What’s up?” June asked.

“People are looking at me.”

“Well, I know it is a little risqué, but you do look good in it, sexy as well as cute.”

Pixie blushed, becomingly, June thought, as it hit her that her new lover was not used to being complimented on how she looked.

After lunch, June took Pixie to her favourite hairdresser.

“Mandy, this is Pixie, Pixie, Mandy!”

Mandy was a slightly overweight young woman with an air of professionalism.

“So, this is her then, June, okay, I can do what you need here, and then, if you two want to come upstairs, I can help see to the rest.”

June grinned in a conspiratorial fashion, as Pixie sat down and Mandy’s assistant washed her hair. Then, to Pixie’s horror, Mandy applied a blonde rinse to her hair, before cutting it in a “pixie” style. But Pixie trusted June, who assured her it would wash out, but was necessary.

Looking at herself in the mirror, blonde and with a new hairstyle, Pixie did a double take. Was that really her?

“Right,” said Mandy, “let’s go upstairs, I am sure we can do something with those nails.”

Pixie, who had never had a manicure or pedicure, relaxed as Mandy did her hands and feet. She looked at June when Mandy applied istanbul travestileri nail varnish to her nails, but as June just nodded, Pixie went along with it.

“What do you think, Pixie?” Mandy asked.

“I am amazed,” she replied, honestly.

“Well I have not finished, June’s asked for two specialities for your night out. Put your hand out here.”

Pixie did, and to her amazement, Mandy fixed some false nails, which made her hands look longer and more elegant.

“And now,” Mandy grinned at June, “the speciality. For this, Pixie, I shall have to ask you to slip out of that yummy dress.”

Pixie, who was shy of revealing herself, found herself for the second time that day stripping in front of others. June was looking at her. Pixie wanted to show June that she did trust her, and went along with it. But the next step was the biggest test.

“If you will lie on your tummy on the massage table, Pixie, I can do what June wants done.”

Pixie looked at June. June had noticed the frequency with which she did that. She needed reassurance. June was happy to supply it. She suddenly realised with a great mental “thud” what was going on. This, odd though it would surely have seemed to others, was their way of establishing trust. June had taken Pixie well outside her comfort zone, and for more than one reason.

The ostensible cause was, of course, Kate; June was determined to deal with her once and for all. But there was more to it, and more than June could possibly have realised earlier.

Pixie was clearly no fashionista. She dressed well, but had no interest in clothes, which meant that though her dress had been cute, it had hardly done her justice. It was equally clear that she had no sense of her own beauty. She was (to June’s joy) flatteringly complimentary about June, but her self-deprecation about her own looks seemed baked in. It must, June reflected, have been hard for her. Being so petite, that would have been the first thing anyone noticed about her, and that tended to dictate how people reacted. She smiled, thinking that on-line probably suited Pixie’s natural talent with words.

As she watched her new lover lie on her tummy, Mandy asked her to lift so that her panties could be pulled down. This, thought June, was the other part of what was going on between the two of them.

You did not have to be, June reflected, though she was, as empath, to realised that there was a part of Pixie which needed to submit. June knew all about that herself. But though younger, and probably less experienced, June was also well-grounded in a common sense attitude to life. As Kate had discovered, and would soon discover again, while June could be the most loyal and submissive woman, she would not be abused. She wondered if Pixie had that same survival instinct?

Trust was vital to June. She knew that she had been foolish to trust Kate, though she was wise enough to remember her own doubts about the woman. Pixie’s submissive side was, June thought, a key to their own relationship. Pixie had shown that she could switch, so that smoothed away one of June’s anxieties. She had also shown that she saw it as part of their relationship and not something in itself, which reassured June. But the big question was one June realised was being posed to her by Pixie – could June herself cope with that side of her?

Pixie blushed as she took her dress off. Standing in just her panties in from of two fully clothed women was humiliating to her; but then it seemed as though June realised the effect that would have. As she lay down, she felt vulnerable; but that was not the main feeling which came to her. Then, as Mandy asked her to raise herself, and she felt her panties pulled down, she realised that this was a test.

She knew June in the way that the mysterious connection between them allowed. But how far did that go? She had been amazed with herself that she could switch and control June. She had been flattered by what June had said about her appearance. Her painted nails and her blonde hair all helped to make her feel different. But what now? June was as submissive as she was. How would she cope with that? Yes, of course, Pixie could take charge, and wanted to. But what of June? Indeed, what, Pixie thought, of herself?

Trust, trust, she thought, was the key.

“Now,” said Mandy, “here, like so June?”

Pixie could hear the excitement and the laughter in June’s voice.

“Yes, just there, and same place on her other cheek.”

Pixie shivered as she felt Mandy’s hands on her bare bum. Then she felt something stick, and a sharp sting as something was pulled away. She felt the same on the other cheek.

“And the arrows? Shall I use the same technique?”

“Do,” June said, but do the back first, we may need to defuzz her.”

Whatever Mandy had done had made Pixie so wet that she could feel a leakage. That got more intense as she did the same thing on the small of her back.

“Over now, Pixie, there’s a good girl!”

At June’s words, Pixie turned over.

“My travesti istanbul goodness,” Mandy said, there is not much there. Do you shave or wax, Pixie?”

Pixie was in turmoil.

“The occasional wax.”

In truth, one of the effects of Pixie’s genetic disorder was that her pubic hair was very sparse, so it hardly mattered.

“Okay, well, open your legs for us and flex your knees.”

Pixie looked at June, suddenly needing her more than ever. She was relieved when June nodded.

The waxing took minutes, and she felt the stinging after. Then Mandy applied a transfer to her tummy – and arrow pointing down.

“Shall I leave you two, June?”

“If you would, Mandy, and thanks.”

“My pleasure,” Mandy grinned, “and unless my senses deceive me, I think she liked it.”

Pixie lay there, legs apart, looking at June.

“You are wet, my darling.”

“I am,” Pixie blushed.

“Later,” June grinned. “If you just get on all fours, I will position the mirror so you can see.”

Pixie did as she was told, and as June moved the mirror, she could see that she had a “tramp stamp” pointing down, and on one cheek was the word “June’s” and on the other, “slut.” She felt herself shiver.

June noticed Pixie’s reaction. She looked so sexy there, she thought. But, with an effort of control which shook her, June pulled back from where her instincts were taking her.

“Right, darling, clothes on and we have time for tea before we go back. Do thank Mandy.”

“I will,” Pixie grinned.

The look that passed between them made Pixie suddenly feel that it would be okay. Whatever June was doing, it was for her, for them both.

As she went back into the main salon, Pixie caught sight of herself in the mirror. She could hardly believe she was the same person; perhaps she wasn’t?

“Thank you, Mandy,” she said, as she paid.

“Oh, Pixie, it was a pleasure. See you soon June.”

Over tea, Pixie once again noticed that people were looking at her. June smiled. So far, she thought, so good. It was, she thought, pretty clear that Pixie’s submissive instincts could be moulded so that she felt secure with June, and in that, the providing of love and security and pleasure, lay their future. Far from being some sort of problem, it was looking as though Pixie’s submissive instincts would allow June to please her, even as she had shown herself capable of pleasing June. But one test remained.

At five o’clock Pixie’s phone pinged. She showed it to June.

“Be ready for 6, slut. I await with interest to see how slutty you can be for me. Kate x”

June could see the concern in Pixie’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, let’s get back and I will complete the job.”

Once back, Pixie asked June whether she really looked slutty.

“No, darling, you look like you might have looked if you had been born elsewhere, but it will easy enough to slut you up a bit. Now then work with me!”

June applied lipstick and eyeliner and made Pixie look a little sluttier. Would it be enough for Kate.

In the sleeveless ruched casual tank dress, Pixie looked dressed for a night out. As she was not wearing a bra, her hard nipples were visible, and to Pixie’s horror, June made her wear a G-string.

“But June, it’s awful! It feels like it’s going to slice me in half!”

“Well, if she wanted slutty, that makes you look like a total slut, darling.”

Pixie looked at June wistfully.

“I’m YOUR slut, not hers.”

June smiled.

“Let’s see! Now I am going into the next room to get ready. She will be on time I suspect, so I have about fifteen minutes. You do what you have to to calm your nerves, but remember, I am here.”

As June disappeared into the next room, Pixie shivered. This was a test. Could she come through it? Her G-string was uncomfortable, and all the more so for being soaked. She looked at the heavily made-up blonde in the mirror and wondered, again, who it was.

From her vantage point in the next room, June watched. Pixie looked deliciously slutty, such a change from the posh lady she had met last night, and she was getting a sense of how the change was having an erotic effect on her lover. Then there was a knock on the door.

Pixie’s heart skipped a beat. She opened it. There stood Kate, who invited herself in.

Kate looked Pixie over.

“Who would think you were a respected professor, slut? Delicious. Well, I am sure that your clients will enjoy you. What’s up, the cat got your tongue?”

At the mention of “clients,” Pixie’s blood froze. Then she remembered, she was June’s slut, not Kate’s.

“I am glad you approve,” she said.

“Oh, I do, but let’s see your tattoo – and, slut, it’s Mistress to you.”

Pixie turned, lifted her skirt, and wiggled her bum. The G-string hid nothing.

Kate gasped.

“What? What the fuck?”

The door opened.

There stood June in a leather bustier, wearing black stockings and a garter belt with her stilettos. She tapped her thigh with her crop.

“What’s up, Kate, can’t read? What does it say?”

Kate was struggling to comprehend what was happening. This was June? Her former sub? And Pixie? What?

“June’s Slut.”

“Well done, she is my slut, not yours, and unless you want to feel more of this,” June said, using her crop to strike Kate’s ass, “I’d bugger off.”

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