You Write Your Name In My Skin
You Write Your Name In My Head
Orange Sherbette woke up in her Canterlot apartment bedroom. The previous night’s party at Velvet Sky’s new house had taken its toll on the young girl as she staggered over to the bathroom to do her morning routine of brushing her teeth and showering. On her way she spotted something in front of her apartment door. A tiny package that wasn’t there when she came back from the homecoming party last night. Thinking she would open it later, Sherbette stripped naked in order to shower, but curiosity got the better of her as she grabbed the box and sat down on the sofa to examine it further.
The package felt very light so it probably didn’t contain anything electronic. Carefully opening the box, the first thing Orange noticed was a short letter addressed to her from Velvet Sky, a close friend of her, maybe a bit too close since this was the third unexpected package she had received. The previous two were just small empty cardboard boxes and they did not have any info on who had sent them. Sherbette quickly drew two and two together and figured Velvet had also sent the other two boxes. But why? The letter might give some answers.
Orange Sherbette
You are my best friend forever. In this box is a gift that we both might enjoy. Please wear it when you sleep.
The letter offered no answers, only more questions. Sherbette put the letter on the table and checked what was in the box. Inside the box was something pink and soft to the touch, clothes perhaps? The gift turned out to be a set of sexy lingerie and not just any lingerie. A tailor made set of cat lingerie, her favorite. How on earth did Velvet know what kind of underwear she wears? Perhaps her choice of undergarments was more popular than she thought and Velvet had just gone with the most obvious choice available. Sherbette dressed in the gift garments and found out that the lingerie fit her perfectly. The bra was exactly her cup size which compensated her big breasts quite nicely. The odd thing was that she had not told anyone what her size was and the only way for someone to make fitting bra was to feel her breasts in person, which had not happened. It was the same thing for the lacy thong. Perfect fit, maybe too perfect. She could swear the fabric was forming and fitting itself on her pussy. Sherbette walked over to the mirror and felt the soft fabric wedge itself between her buttocks, tickling her anus slightly. Sherbette giggled as she blew a kiss at the likeness of herself wearing the sexy lingerie. Posing for the mirror, she couldn’t figure any reason Velvet would give her such a queer and unorthodox gift, and how did she get her measurements just right? Deciding she had examined herself through the mirror thoroughly, Sherbette undressed and placed the lingerie back in the box before she headed to the shower to start her day properly. She would sleep with the lingerie on again later tonight.
Later that evening, after brushing her teeth and removing her makeup, Sherbette found herself sprawled atop her bed. Her fingers roamed around her body, finding a nipple under her bra and pinching it hard enough to make her gasp. Her other hand made its way between her legs, petting and teasing her pussy and causing her to moan and squirm. She teased herself for a few minutes before getting down to business. She pulled her panties down and imagined Velvet Sky kissing her, and she could almost feel the brush of lips against hers as she did. Sherbette came hard, causing her to call out Velvet’s name as she writhed around the bed.
Once Sherbette had caught her breath, she got up to pee. She caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror, and noticed for the first time how beautiful and sexy she looked wearing that lingerie. No wonder why she was so taken by the portrait, she thought. There was such a feeling of familiarity, a sort of bond. She moved back into the bedroom and climbed into bed, this time under the sheets. She reached over to turn out the light and rolled over to sleep.
Sherbette awoke couple hours later in a state of intense arousal. She had a recollection of having a sexual dream in which Velvet was in her room, on the bed with her face buried between Sherbette’s legs. She recalled that Velvet was relentless, borderline aggressive, lapping at Sherbette’s dripping pussy and making her come again and again. It was all dissipating very quickly, except for the neediness that she felt. She reached down to touch herself, and found that her clit was hypersensitive. Sherbette pushed a finger through the fabric, and was rewarded with a massive orgasm that caused her to scream out loud. She lay there panting, trying to catch her breath and calm down. Finally, she sat up in bed and looked at the mirror on the wall. Surely I must be crazy, she thought to herself. I’d swear that the lingerie was tightening itself around me. That’s ridiculous, she admonished herself as she threw back the covers and got out of bed. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her.
Hour later, Sherbette drifted off to sleep again, comfortable in her bed and sated for the moment. As she slept, Velvet Sky came to her in a dream. She was even more beautiful than she was in person, and her voice was as soothing as honey. Instead of being surprised by her sudden appearance, Sherbette welcomed her. She wanted to see more of her; to hear more, to touch. Velvet crawled over to the bed and kissed Sherbette. Truly. Madly. Deeply. She could feel the cold coming from Velvet’s lips, and yet she hungered for the kiss. She needed it. She was enthralled.
She awoke early, her body tingling with want and need. She didn’t really understand what was going on with her. She enjoyed sex and she enjoyed masturbating, but the strength of her desires and the pleasure she was feeling was so far beyond anything that came before, she was having a hard time comprehending it, never mind trying to control it. The truth is she didn’t want to control it; she wanted to succumb to it.
She reached down and touched herself, and found her pussy to be drenched already. She had probably given herself multiple orgasms in her sleep. That only made her want even more. She thought of Velvet as she slipped first one, then another finger deep inside herself. She bit her lip and slowly fingered herself, imagining it was Velvet’s fingers doing the work in her panties.
As Sherbette fingered herself, she heard Velvet’s voice. It was unmistakable. Her reaction was not one of fear, nor of confusion. She didn’t question how or why. It was irrelevant. Velvet wanted her to come and Sherbette wanted it to. She wanted to come for Velvet. To Velvet. She screamed out when her orgasm exploded within her. She screamed and cried and moaned and shook for nearly a full minute before bringing her hand to her mouth and licking it clean. For the next hour, Sherbette allowed Velvet to take control of her actions. Guiding her and seducing her and watching as Sherbette came time and time again, drenching her panties over and over again. By seven in the morning, Sherbette was spent, unable to touch her incredibly over sensitized pussy any longer. She didn’t need to, because her lingerie was doing it for her. Sherbette collected her thoughts for a moment, thinking about getting up. Was this all really happening? Was she imagining it, or worse, going insane? Why was constantly thinking about Velvet? Did her lingerie just rub against her clit on its own? Thinking about it aroused her almost instantly, which reminded her that she was quite sore and sensitive. She would have to get some sleep the next evening, while wearing the lingerie.
The next week went by in a haze. Sherbette spent the majority of each night with the image of Velvet in her head. The orgasms were coming faster and harder each time, and she found herself consumed with the thought of being with Velvet every minute of the day. It seemed that with each passing day, the flickering in and out of her body was happening more frequently and for longer each time. She was addicted to pleasure the lingerie gave her. That much was undeniable. She was teetering on the brink of madness and didn’t care.
The stimulation caused by the lingerie was driving Sherbette mad with pleasure. No longer did she have any control of her body, the fabric did all the work squeezing her nipples and rubbing her clit. The sensations were now more than Sherbette’s mind could deal with. She was her, then she was Velvet. She could taste herself, or was it Velvet that she tasted. She didn’t know any longer. Her nervous system was overwhelmed with pleasure. The flickering started again, slowly at first, and quickly picking up speed. Within minutes, it was as if a strobe flight were flickering on and off at high speed, and it appeared that both women where there at the same time. In that moment of distraction, Sherbette saw and understood everything.
She saw that Velvet wasn’t really Velvet, and yet she was. She was becoming a part of Velvet.
She saw the horror of it all. In just a few short seconds, Sherbette would wrest control of her body from her and she’d be expelled from it. Moments later, she would just cease to exist. Yet she struggled. She thrashed about on the bed, caught between the rapture and the terror of what was about to happen. In a few short days, she had become addicted to Velvet’s lingerie’s charms, and the addiction ran deep within her. The bedside lamp was tipped over, knocking a couple of the make-up boxes to the floor.
The feelings of ecstasy in Sherbette were so great, she wanted to give up and give in to the pleasure. She knew that the next moment of orgasm would be nearly unimaginable. She was ready to surrender herself to Sherbette, just for that one moment of sheer pleasure and joy. She was ready to reach her tongue out and taste Velvet once more. She was ready.
Somewhere deep within her, that one primal bit of Sherbette, that innate desire to survive, pushed back. It pushed back hard, and a second later, Sherbette came to her senses. She leaped from the bed and grabbed her bra, tearing it off with all her strength. The clothing offered quite bit of resistance but it still was a piece of fabric, possessed fabric nevertheless as it finally gave away. She tore it into pieces before tossing it on the floor. Her breasts now freed from the clothing prison, she focused her remaining strength on the panties that still tried to lure her into prison of pleasure. Like a wild cat, she tore her panties in two before throwing it on the floor and stomping on it for good measure. The battle had taken its toll on Orange Sherbette as she collapsed on her bed before passing out from fatigue. Little did she know that the pieces of the lingerie were starting to fuse together into a bigger shape that resembled a human. A human named Velvet Sky.
