lWoD Changeling: Liz's White Cake

lWoD Changeling: Liz's White Cake
Tags: WoD, Changeling, Lesbian, Oral:Female, Abuse, Dubcon

It was getting late, and Bridget had a lighter in her hand. She knew better than to worry, usually. Except these past few days were getting particularly strange. That meant stranger than her vinebaby, and stranger than that time Liz went through the drive thru three times because of the pattern of the pickles on her cheeseburger.

Bridget lit the lighter, and watched the swaying flame. She let it go. Something was off, and she knew it. It kept her up, wondering exactly what strange magical thing was screwing with her Liz. She wanted to keep it all to herself. No matter how much Bridget asked, she was met with a stern stare, or a casual ‘no, shut up’ for her trouble.

Well this time, Bridget didn’t want to shut up. Bridget had asked Liz one simple thing, and she was stuck sitting at the kitchen table, with a lighter in her hand, and a grocery store birthday cake in front of her.

She even had a birthday present, wrapped up with scotch tape and a paper bag. She told Liz to be there at 3pm, which wasn’t asking much since that was when she usually walked through the door. Now it was eight.

There was a knock at the door, and Bridget leaped out of her chair. Why was Liz knocking? She ran over, feeling a thump in her chest. She cursed herself for ever doubting Liz. A peek through the peephole saw Liz in profile, distorted through the lens.

Bridget swung the door open with a smile, “Happy Bi-”

The woman in front of her was smiling. Liz didn’t smile. The woman wore a bright pink skirt, a frame hugging white tank top, and curious eyes.

“Whoa, it is just as cute as I expected,” The woman said, her eyes tracing back and forth over their little kitchen and living space.

It wasn’t much more than a chipping table, set between the kitchen tiles and the boxes they used to rest their old CRT.

Bridget took a step backwards. The woman looked cheery, and her resemblance to Liz was uncanny. Still, something inside her told her to be on guard. A feeling in her gut, like a noose slipped around her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” The woman said with her hand out, “I’m Beth, I’m so rude sometimes. You’re Liz’s friend right?”

Bridget shook her hand, it was like shaking with silk. Beth kept perfect eye contact, and walked inside the little apartment.

“You’re what,” Bridget began, “Liz’s cousin? Sister?”

Beth laughed, “We look alike right? I’m just an acquaintance. She told me you two were having a party.”

Bridget had rumbled before about having a threesome, but it was mostly to ruffle Liz’s feathers. If Liz was trying to surprise her, she could have at least brought a girl that was less… damn.

She frowned as she tried to take her gaze off of Beth’s well accented chest. This woman looked like someone forced Liz through a month of yoga and nutrition shakes. Not that it was something Bridget worried about.

As she told Liz before, ‘If I wanted a girl with a fat ass, I would be a top.’

Though Bridget didn’t like the look Liz gave her behind after the fact.

“Is that the cake?” Beth said as she walked to the table, “Oh my god, that is so cute.”

Bridget closed the door, though her hand held to the knob.

“Happy Birthday, to my Liz,” Beth read from the sloppy writing on the top, “Is this strawberry, that’s her favorite you know.”

Bridget nearly shouted as Beth’s fingers dipped into the frosting on the side. Her fists clenched as the woman brought the cream up to her lips and licked it off.

“What…” Bridget stammered over the word. She had to control herself, Liz might not appreciate it if her ‘acquaintance’ was sent to the hospital.

Beth looked at the exposed filling of the cake, “Vanilla cream? Too bad.”

Bridget walked over to the table, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She said as she looked over the cake. It was a disaster, her perfect evening with Liz, her normal little night.

“Oh don’t worry,” Beth said with a flip of her wrist and a roll of her eyes, “Just turn the cake, she won’t notice until it is too late.”

Who did this woman think she was? Why did she think she could just walk in here and touch everything? If she didn’t look so much like Liz, Bridget might have already socked her in the mouth. She flared her nostrils, but tried to bear it.

“How many candles is this?” Beth asked with a chuckle, she looked Bridget in the eyes, “Is she trying to hide her age, or do you just not know?”

“Well,” Bridget stammered, she didn’t know, another dead end question, “It doesn’t matter.”

Beth plucked out one of the rainbow colored candles, “Weird how she doesn’t tell you anything.”

That noose was tightening.

“I’m thirsty,” Beth said, “Is the water safe in this place?”

She said it with that smile, and Bridget had to look away. It was Liz’s face smiling at her, but it was foreign, disturbing. It was like hearing your own voice on your voicemail, so familiar and at once bizarre.

Bridget went to the sink and poured a coffee cup of water, then brought it back to the table. Beth pulled out Liz’s favorite seat, and sat down to the cup of water.

“How did you say you knew Liz again?” Bridget asked, standing across from her.

“Sit down Bridget,” Beth said, “You’re making me anxious. Are all of you dykes like this, or are you something special?”

Was this that other woman that Liz mentioned before? The one who was looking for her, the one that she couldn’t protect Bridget from? Her mind went to the baseball bat in the bedroom. When she heard her words, her thoughts told her to kick this woman to the curb. Unfortunately, that smile was doing something else, seeing Liz’s face so happy, content, mischievous even.

Bridget sat down.

“I feel like I’ve known her forever,” Beth said, “Though I guess you could say I’ve known her a few years longer than you.”

Bridget looked down at the table.

“Did you know she had a fiance before?” Beth said, “A guy in Vermont.”

Bridget could only shake her head no. Why was she torturing her with this?

“Don’t worry,” Beth laughed like it was evening gossip,” She didn’t really love him. At least not then. She might have learned to, if she gave it a chance. With you though…”

Beth examined Bridget over her cup, then humphed, “I’m not sure if she really likes girls, or if she just took what she could find.”

Bridget glared up at Beth. Did Liz hurt this bitch that bad? Now she was here trying to torture Bridget, with cruel words, and her body.

“Shut up,” Bridget said, “Just shut up about Liz, you obviously don’t know shit about her.”

Beth put her cup back down. Liz’s lips weren’t that full. Bridget often wondered what Liz would look like with lip gloss on. It turned out she was beautiful.

“You’re wondering, aren’t you?” Beth whispered.

“No,” Bridget replied, shook her head, “What?”

Beth’s smile turned to a coy grin, “If I’m better. I work hard enough for it, you can say it, I’m hot.”

Bridget huffed, and turned away, but that creeping sensation spread up from her stomach.

“She isn’t coming tonight, you know,” Beth said, “She forgot about your little plan, trust me. That’s about how much she thinks about you when you aren’t buried between her legs.”

Bridget knocked over her chair in a clatter of plastic on porcelain, “You bitch, how dare you?”

Beth stood and walked toward her, something in that smile made Bridget hesitate. It wasn’t Liz anymore, it was something deeper down. She couldn’t say what.

Then Beth stepped in and grabbed Bridget by the chin. Bridget’s hands went out to grab the woman’s wrist. She was stronger than she looked, and Bridget’s eyes widened as Beth’s free hand grabbed her wrist and twisted it into a lock.

Bridget’s heart thumped, and she realized she had no leverage. Liz’s, no, Beth’s arms were just long enough that all she could do was make feeble scratches at her arms. Even that felt futile with her face squeezed between Beth’s fingertips. She tried to make a dangerous sound, anything to scare her, and instead she made a childish gurgle.

“Maybe this is what she sees in you,” Beth whispered, “A little bitch that couldn’t fight back if she tried.”

Bridget felt like her chest was collapsing on itself, her breathing was shallow, her face feeling hot.

Then Beth leaned in and kissed her. She never imagined those lips would bite in harder than Liz’s, or that those soft hands would hold her tighter. Then it was over, and Bridget was left gasping and holding her bruised chin.

“Down on your knees,” Beth said.

“Fuck you,” was Bridget’s reply. She was coughing, but her trouble breathing had a different and unwanted source.

Before Bridget could move, Beth’s palm flashed across her face. A flash of red pain went through her. It shook her mind clear.

“That’s the idea,” Beth said with a giggle, “Now down on your knees.”

Bridget looked at Beth, and her chest constricted. Magic shit. That was what she told herself as she went down to one knee in front of Beth. It has to be strange magic stuff, because if it wasn’t, then there was no way she could explain herself to Liz after this.

“Look up here,” Beth said.

Bridget looked up, and Beth looked down on her with her thumbnail in her mouth. The woman’s fingers seemed a little jittery, and her grin almost seemed to go on too far.

“I could see how she likes this view,” Beth mumbled, “I could see why she would dream about this.”

This was the perfect time to attack. She could knock her off her feet, get to the bat, beat her in and wait for Liz to arrive. It was perfect, she was distracted, and a little full of herself. Bridget swallowed. Her chest held her there.

Beth bent down, thumbs under her skirt, and pulled off a pair of thong underwear, before kicking them aside. Beth moved closer, the edge of her skirt touching Bridget’s chin. Liz’s eyes looked down on Bridget.

“I hope I don’t have to tell you what to do,” Beth said with a smile, “You’re the pearl diving slut, go in.”

Bridget squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to take a deep breath. She squirmed under the gaze of those eyes, even when she couldn’t see them. As her hips shifted she could feel what Beth’s request was doing to her. She was wet, no matter how wrong it felt. She didn’t know if it was the words, or her face, but she couldn’t deny it.

Bridget’s fingers went to the edge of Beth’s skirt, slid up the smooth skin at her thighs. She didn’t have long to push, the short belt of cloth revealing her destination. Beth was shaved smooth, her lips there waiting, begging for contact.

Her index finger ran along the edge between her thigh and her mound, slipped over the smooth flesh.

“You like that?” Beth said, then she frowned, “My husband’s fault, a bit of a pervert.”

Bridget nodded in silence. Then she leaned forward, and ran her tongue across Beth. So familiar, and at once so foreign. A chill ran down Bridget’s spine, the touch was undoubtedly intimate. Her tongue probed deeper, and she got her first taste of Beth’s juices. As Beth’s lips let Bridget past, the first flow of flavor struck her. Was Beth as excited as her? She was, bursting, a sordid tang that matched her aroma. As Bridget swallowed it, she gasped for air. She sucked in one of Beth’s lower lips, taking the soft skin over her tongue, pulled at it softly, squeezed her nose in close.

They both shivered. Bridget looked up at Beth, and saw that the woman was watching her, smiling at her, Liz’s smile.

“Have you figured it out yet?” Beth said with a heavy sigh, “Or are you stupider than I thought?”

Bridget could only slide her tongue from back to front, running over every layer and fold, digging in deep.

Beth moaned, then put her hand through Bridget’s hair. It was those soft fingers, they slid through her locks, keeping her close, but comforting her at once. Bridget put her hands on both sides of Beth’s buttocks. She dug her tongue in deeper, probed her, drank deep of her excitement.

Beth’s hand constricted, forcing Bridget in, pressing her nose against the pliant skin, made her every breath that womanly musk. She took in a long breath, and her whole body shuddered. Bridget’s tongue ran up every side, and flickered over the stranger’s little button.

“Yes,” Beth said, “More, right there, show me you love her.”

She did love her, enough to taste the darkest places on her body, for Bridget’s thighs to clench as she slid her lips back and forth across this look alike. She fought for leverage, trying to dig her fingers into Beth’s thighs.

“Almost,” Beth whispered as her hand ran over the back of Bridget’s head.

Bridget couldn’t think, couldn’t stop. She squeezed Beth against her, held the woman tight and ran her tongue over every inch of her. Then she focused down on her clit, the wide part of her tongue pressing against it, again, and again, and each time Beth’s thighs squeezing against her until Bridget felt the woman’s whole body tense and shudder with an excitement that Bridget only wanted to give to Liz.

Beth’s grip loosened, and Bridget backed her head away, looking up into the woman’s eyes.

Beth picked up her cup of water, and hid her reddened face behind it. “I didn’t say stop, butch.”

Bridget licked up Beth’s thigh.

Then there was a click at the door. Their eyes shot to it, and it opened to Liz, with a few pink roses in hand.

Liz turned and saw the scene before her, and the roses fell to the floor.

Bridget’s stomach was on fire, that natural guilt, amplified beyond reason. Liz wasn’t just looking at Beth, she saw them both, and there was no hiding her part in the crime. Magic was no excuse, this wasn’t magic.

Bridget heard the crack of porcelain, and looked up to see that the coffee cup cracked in Beth’s grip.

Liz was stunned, her mouth hanging open. Her expression changed to one Bridget had never seen before, fear.

Bridget’s eyes were burning with tears.

Beth yanked back on Bridget’s hair, and Bridget let out a yelp of pain. Everything here was more wrong than she thought. That look on Beth’s face, eyes like saucers, a smile that strained to reach her ears, a twitch that ran through her grip.

“Happy Birthday,” Beth said, “Elizabeth.”

Liz took in a strained breath, then screamed, “Bridget, run!”

Beth tossed Bridget aside, her head thumping against the tile floor. Then she squared herself in front of Liz.

Bridget scrambled to her hands and knees, crawling toward the bedroom door. She fought the urge to turn around and watch. She remembered Liz’s warning, that someone was coming that Liz couldn’t protect her from. Who was this woman that scared even Liz? Why was she even here, on today of all days?

She rolled into the room and caught one glimpse of the two of them before she slammed the door shut. What she saw couldn’t be real. No longer were they two people, they were creatures, one glinting in the fading sunlight, and the other a reptilian shadow. Bridget closed her eyes and tried to forget it. She wanted to forget the woman’s grip on her, the pain in her head, the taste of her lust on her tongue. Whatever Beth was, she wasn’t Liz.

There was a crash, the table, the cake! She couldn’t imagine what they were doing. There was a sound that seemed unnatural, an out of place snap.

Bridget took gasping breaths, she had to help. She loved Liz, she had to do something, she couldn’t just leave her.

 There was the sound of a struggle, the pained cries of two women… no, just one.

She made Liz a promise, that if something showed up that Liz couldn’t protect her from, then Bridget would protect Liz. It was just something she said in the moment, but somehow, even remembering Liz’s look of relief when Bridget said it made her feel stronger.

There was a soft knock at the door, the sound of fighting was over.

“Bridget,” Liz said, “It’s over.”

Bridget slid her back up the door, and tried to calm herself as she reached for the door knob.

She opened the door, and Beth’s twisted smile greeted her.

Bridget brought up the bat in her other hand, let out a scream, and swung at her.

The bat struck the woman clean across the face. She turned back to Beth, a trickle of blood at the edge of her eye.

“Oooh,” Beth giggled, “I like that.”

Beth grabbed Bridget’s wrist and squeezed until the bat fell with one gasp of pain. Then she brought Bridget in close. She held her hair, pulled her in for a kiss, so close that she tasted blood.

“I like you,” Beth said, the heat of her breath on Bridget’s face, “I’ll keep you. Happy Birthday to me.”

Bridget could see Liz in the corner near the door, bleeding from her forehead, knocked out. She closed her eyes and whimpered.

Then there was a flash of pain, and sleep.