I don't think of myself as a cruel person. Not evil or malicious, just a regular person, who can be selfish on occasion. It just so happened that the opportunity to be selfish came to me in a unique way and I was small minded enough to take the offered opportunity and run with it.
Growing up my best friend was Heather, a shy, skinny girl who read a lot, took ballet and gymnastics, didn't participate in school activities much and was socially awkward. For whatever reason the other guys didn't see her as the beautiful girl that I did. She would often ask me why other guys didn't like her. I didn't know, I loved her, but couldn't say so.
When we hit puberty Heather developed slowly, and never grew curvy. She was thin, athletic, with narrow hips and small breasts. The girls who had big breasts teased her, and the other guys said she didn't have breasts at all. Why do kids ever tease anyone? Who knows, but it was murder on Heather's self esteem. So much so that she just couldn't hear it when I told her she was beautiful.
By sixteen she still hadn't had a boyfriend. I had had a few girlfriends. None of them were as smart, or interesting and Heather, nor were any of them as sexy. They were clumsy, or chubby and soft, but Heather was lithe, lean and firmly muscled from all of her activities. Sure she had braces and weird frizzy hair, but I thought she was amazing.
We got drunk one night and she asked what it was like to make out with someone, and eventually I got to show her by kissing her for a while, but when I tried to touch her she pushed me away embarrassed, saying she was ugly. Nothing I could do would console her.
The summer before college Heather was at an all-time low. I turned eighteen in April and Heather in May. Part of her sadness was growing up so quickly. She felt afraid of the loss of childhood. Even though were now both technically adults, we were inexperienced and naive. Going away for school, leaving home and me, her only friend, broke her heart.
The prospect of a new group of people to torment her terrified her. She wouldn't hear that these new people would not know the old her and that she could be anyone she wanted. All that was in her mind were the new torment she would undergo. I think she was even thinking of suicide at some points.
Then it began. My opportunity to be evil. Heather asked me to help her change. She told me she would do anything I told her to do to become the perfect woman that any man would want. My mind was on fire with lust, but I started slow, testing the waters. We started with clothes. I encouraged her to dress more slutty, to show off her legs and her tight stomach, to show her bare arms with the long lean lines of muscle she had developed. And to let men see a hint of her incredible breasts.
She was so despondent that she let me dress her up any way I wanted. If I could find the clothes she would wear them. I made her look like a hooker just to satisfy my own lusts, and it worked. She wore tiny skirts that barely covered her amazing ass, thong panties that peeked out when she crossed her legs. Small t-shirts that climbed up her ripped abs, or low cut flimsy summer dresses with plunging necklines and no bra. It worked. Men started calling out to her on the street. Shouting about how much they wanted to fuck her.
She grew a bit happier, but not enough to shake her funk. I know she was uncomfortable with showing so much skin, and felt demeaned by the cat-calls. I helped her get a hairstyle that suited her, a shorter cut that she could tame with product, and she looked infinitely better. Some make up helped even more. I was bad at it, but with some magazines she started looking like a real movie star all slutted out in some men's magazine. I was walking around with a permanent boner.
Now she could really feel the difference. But I told her that she was only average looking now, and that she was going to have to learn to please a man in bed or it would all fall apart. I knew I hurt her saying that, but my plan needed her to be weak and vulnerable. I started reading Penthouse letters to her to show her how the women in those books treated their men. Blowjobs, facials, anal sex and bi-sexuality were the mainstay, as well as wife swapping and all that. I wasn't really thinking about what would happen to Heather, just the slim possibility that she would do any or all of that with me.
And after a few reading session she started getting hot herself, and wiggled around while we read. The stories I read most were of women being slaves to men. This made her wet she said. I told her she would really need to practice to get good at that stuff. And finally she asked me if I would help her. She asked if she could give me a blowjob.
Perfect.
Maybe a better person than I would have told her no, or to wait for a man she loved, but I loved her, and was obsessed with being with her, so I jumped at the opportunity to have her.
I opened my pants and told her what to do. This was the first blowjob I had received, but I had long been imagining what I wanted. My already hard cock sprang out when she opened my pants, and she leaned over it, the first one she had ever seen live. I told her to hold it, and to lick it like an ice cream, long and slow. She did. It was heaven. Watching that face I had loved all these years, with my cock pressed against it, brushing those silky cheeks, and parting those lovely lips was so intoxicating. Every move she made I memorized. As she ran her tongue along my shaft, and licked my balls I could hardly breathe. I gave her a constant stream of instructions which she performed admirably. Yet everything she did I corrected slightly, almost giving opposing orders. This held my orgasm at bay, and it gave her doubt, which I needed her to have. If she had doubt, these lessons might continue.
Soon I had both my hands in her hair and was driving myself into her mouth aggressively, gagging her in my passion, and before I could hold off I started to pump my load of cum deep inside her mouth. It was the best orgasm of my life, and it took me minutes to recover. I held her head down over my cock the whole time, savoring the feeling of being in her mouth not letting her release me until I was ready.
My mind was racing with the potential of this new power. I needed to keep her here, on her knees pleasing me somehow. What came out of my mouth was pure instinct. And it was perfect.
"That was okay, but really you need work. I don't think you can really consider yourself ready until you can cum just from making me cum. Have you ever had an orgasm?"
"No." she said shyly. "I'm too nervous to masturbate."
"That isn't it anyway. You need to be able to have an orgasm just from giving your man pleasure. That is what makes a man love a woman, and stay with her forever."
So began my wicked domination of my best friend, the woman I loved most in the world. So began my decent into Evil.
I was quickly able to get another erection. I told her to remove all of my clothes for me, that it made me feel more manly, and that it would then make her feel more womanly. I was grasping at straws but it worked. She stripped me lovingly and said it felt like a pleasure to be kind to me. I sat on the bed and told her to now strip for me, but to do it slowly, teasing me, not hiding from me. With an endearing shyness she bared her body to me, and at each stage I instructed her on how to move, and what looked best. I ached to fuck her, but was sure she would balk so I satisfied myself with watching, for now. Her body was so taut, and glorious I had pre-cum leaking down my up thrust shaft. When she revealed her hairy pussy I nearly wept for joy. The outer lips were swollen and had a downy covering of hair which curled up along her hollow belly, a soft coating of gently curled reddish blonde hair. I was torn between looking at her cunt and looking at her breasts. I wanted twenty eyes and forty hands just so that I could cover every inch of her. I wanted three cocks to put in all the best places. But I had to choose, and since I was scared of making her leave I stayed with what she had let me do before.
