Beat Me

Amanda wasn’t feeling as confident the next morning as she had the day before. An inexplicable feeling of anxiety was swirling somewhere around her stomach, causing a sensation similar to mild nausea. Some undefined fear hampered every movement of her cold hands, and she nearly spilled a glass of pumpkin juice on herself as she tried to put it down on the table. What was she afraid of? She couldn't seem to find the answer. "Calm down, it's just a simple bet, nothing special. You pinch the bitch, she'll whimper like a baby, and you win. Gulp some well-earned firewhisky afterwards and that's it," Amanda told herself. She couldn't bring herself to look up at her friend at the other table at breakfast in the Great Hall. And so she couldn't know that Imelda wasn't looking at her for some reason either. Amanda had regained some of her former bravado by the second class, Potions. But with it came the realization that things were a little more complicated than she'd thought. She started thinking about how she could get close to Imelda. While the other girls, like sugary Poppy or Natsai, would often peck each other on the cheek when they met, or at least hugged occasionally, she and Imelda never did that and hardly touched each other. Their interactions consisted of arguments and banter and could not exactly be characterized as the ones with sissy sentiments. And here she was, needed to do something very not friend-like. "This is easy. It'll be over quickly," Amanda talked herself into it as if she hadn't been the one to write Imelda's name on the enchanted parchment with her own hand yesterday. Grant thought that perhaps she should be acting head-on because there was only one shot, after which Imelda would be sure to sense something wrong. So Amanda stared at her intently the whole class, not listening to what Professor Sharp was muttering at all. She studied with a businesslike air how much Imelda exposed her neck when she was turning her head, how low she bent when she was trying to get something from the bottom shelf, and how she rubbed her hands together impatiently before doing anything else. Today Garreth Weasley's cauldron exploded again for some unknown reason, showering everyone present, including Professor Sharp, with white sticky goo, and he ended class early and sent the students to the showers, taking fifty points from Gryffindor. And after that, the girls went for a walk together around the castle after class. As usual. Like every day before today. But if someone were to look at them from the outside, they would definitely notice the extraordinary tension between them. Which, however, wasn't so obvious to the girls, because each of them was deeply absorbed in their own thoughts. “I bet I know a place in the castle that you don't,” Amanda claimed. “You? Come on, you just got here what, a month ago, and I've been all over it for seven years. That's impossible!” “I see. The challenge has been accepted.” Amanda headed up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, confidently taking Imelda's hand and pulling her along with her. “Okay, I’m officially surprised," Imelda said, holding out the coin to her friend. Right now all she could do not to gnash her teeth was to remember all of her victories over Amanda in all but the first broomstick races. The Room of Requirement was mottled with haphazard rows of pots with Chinese Chomping Cabbage, Mandrake, and Poisonous Tentacula. The yellow-black walls of the small room rippled in her eyes. “Sometimes I don't understand why one has to learn spells when you have these lovely things," Amanda said, gazing fondly at the toothy sprout with a little rain cloud looming over it. In the second room, which was larger but filled with rows of screens and all sorts of decorations, Amanda was surprised to find a red gothic high-backed sofa, more like a spacious daybed. It hadn't been here before... And before it caught Imelda's eye, she had to make a move. And Amanda shoved her shyness away, taking one firm step toward Imelda from behind her back and suddenly sinking her teeth into her exposed neck, grabbing her breast with her right hand and caressing her nipple through her clothing. Imelda inhaled loudly, trying to cope with the shock and sensations that came over her. The room with screens started spinning before her eyes, and that brief second seemed like an eternity, in which a thousand emotions were concentrated at once. Surprisingly, she didn't recoil or resent it, but stood still, as if mesmerized, and even seemed to lean toward it, as if her body had reacted to this trick faster than she could comprehend it. But for a second the thought caught up with her. "She chose me, I must keep quiet," Imelda's mind raced through her head with the speed of the Hogwarts Express. Her body felt as if it had been pierced by lightning, discharge after discharge flashing through. "She chose me. Me!" echoed the realization. Imelda wanted to break free and run away, to disappear, to vanish, to take her trusty broom and fly as far into the Forbidden Forest as possible, to hide in its thicket and fall through the ground. Because just within those two seconds she had realized – she was going to lose. She would inevitably lose if she stayed even for one more moment. But it was too late to retreat: her enchanted envelope already contained a parchment with two words that sounded more like a verdict: Amanda Grant. There was no turning back. Which meant there was only one way: forward. And Imelda knew how to do that. The fear that flashed in her wide-open eyes was quickly replaced by something else. Her gaze grew darker and deeper. She'd chosen the most Slytherin tactic possible: pretend to give in, and when Amanda relaxed and let her guard down, that would be the time to attack. Imelda bit her lip and pressed her hips against her friend, exposing her neck even more and guiding her hand to her left breast. She tried to breathe as loudly as possible, on the verge of letting out a guttural sound so that Amanda was sure she was about to win. And when an infinite amount of time had passed, Imelda abruptly turned around and planted a kiss on Amanda's lips, pulled her curly hair with force, and bit her lower lip. Amanda was taken aback by this onslaught and almost lost. But she was quick-witted for a Hufflepuff and instantly realized that her friend was no slouch. She knew how to pick her victims too. Amanda could barely control herself, remembering the handful of gold coins promised for her patience. The girls pulled away from each other and looked into each other's eyes. “Surprised?" she could read in Imelda's sly gaze, though she didn't say a word. “I didn't doubt you, bitch," Amanda's gaze was equally silent. “Surrender to me," Imelda's thought was crystal clear. “After you," Amanda's arched eyebrow spoke. Imelda did spot the red gothic sofa after all and forcefully pulled Amanda onto it. Imelda had never been with the girl and had no idea what to do. But it was as if her hands knew the road, the signs, and the permitted speed. Some part of her was screaming that it wasn't too late to stop because this was all going too far. But another part of her had already caught the dare. Common sense was swept away by a wave of excitement, and the rest of the world seemed to cease to exist, narrowed down to the soft white body on the red couch and the appealing blue eyes. Imelda unbuttoned Amanda's black shirt and sucked a hard nipple in with her lips. Amanda covered her mouth with her hand, fighting her own sensitivity, and rolled her beautiful blue eyes. Imelda pressed her friend's round breasts against each other, drawing an eight around her nipples with her wide tongue, causing Amanda's body to arch and shiver. Imelda was openly enjoying it, surprised at herself, and thought that it now seemed a waste of time to look for "the fastest broom at Hogwarts." It wasn't about size or even speed, as she had thought. It was about the fact that any guys were mere logs compared to this cutie, and they would never be able to give her the same level of emotion that was sweeping over Imelda's head right now. She was reveling in her power and the possibilities that were opening up. Garreth Weasley, even without the moaning ban, wasn't half as emotional as Amanda was, desperately trying to keep quiet. Imelda wrung Grant's hands, covered in large goosebumps, and already clearly realized that today would divide her life into before and after. Amanda kept on fighting herself, and she didn't seem to have the strength to fight Reyes anymore. But she didn't like to lose, so she summoned up all her Hufflepuff stubbornness, flexed all the muscles she'd trained in troll fights, and in three movements sat down on the edge of the couch and turned the puzzled Imelda over, placing the girl over her lap with her butt upside down. Amanda pulled down her green plaid breeches and looked at the view. "Now you're going to get it for everything, bitch," Amanda thought. Slap. Slap. Slap, slap. Imelda clamped her mouth and nose with both hands to keep from making a sound as her body fidgeted on Amanda's lap. Her buttocks were covered in red marks and her mind was frantically flitting between wanting to fight back and wanting more. Amanda was sure she felt only excitement and rage. And also a desire to win and end it all as quickly as possible. And when she saw the wet spot on the thin strip of lingerie between her red buttocks, she decided to be more specific. Amanda pushed the underwear aside and began to caress Imelda with her fingers, sinking into her wet softness, massaging her clit in smooth circular motions. What she didn't know was that Imelda had learned to keep quiet by stroking herself in this way for months now. It happened every time Imelda returned to her bedroom after their particularly heated arguments or broom races. Imelda told herself that it was all due to a strong emotional outburst, and Amanda had nothing to do with it. Which, of course, was a lie. Not succeeding, Amanda felt irritation and a new wave of excitement, turned Imelda over, and caught her begging gaze for a second. Except... What exactly was she asking for? To stop? To continue? Surrender to her? To defeat her? Finding no answer and surrendering to some strange impulse, Amanda bit the inside of Imelda's thigh. Imelda mentally prayed to Merlin that she would be able to keep silent. But no longer for the sake of some measly ten galleons – she didn't care about them now. Only for the sake of making sure this never ended. Anything to make this sweet moment last as long as possible. Her mind felt empty and relaxed as if she'd drunk firewhisky on an empty stomach, and all her thoughts focused only on the soft lips that moved slowly higher. Please. Yes. Amanda inhaled her sweet scent and kissed her teasingly, making Imelda shiver with anticipation. Then suddenly she swept her wide tongue from bottom to top, tasting all the sensitive areas at once, and heard the loudest human breath of her life. She thought she was going to burn her tongue, so desperate was Imelda's body for caresses. Imelda pushed impatiently along with her movements, surrendering all control to her, and something incredibly important and vulnerable was revealed in that tiny moment. It was as if Amanda recognized the real her. The part of Imelda where there was no more room for arrogance and pathos. Only tenderness and sensuality. It was disarming and warming, making her move faster. And only now, far inside the vortex, her last mental barrier collapsed, and Amanda admitted to herself that she was enjoying herself immensely. More than that – this was what she had wanted for a long time. Seen it in her dreams. Desired it. Caress her. Kiss her. Make her tingle. To spank and punish her. To obey and melt in her arms. To lose to her. Defeat her. Amanda wanted it all. Amanda wanted her. The only one she felt alive next to. But Imelda prevented herself from reaching orgasm and retook the initiative, hovering over Amanda and looking into her eyes. Imelda smirked and shook her head, letting her know it wasn't that simple, and pressed Amanda's hands into the couch. It was her turn to tease, and she was masterful at it. She bit her, licked her, ran her nose and lips all over her body, over her soft neck and soft breasts, never giving Amanda a chance to move. It was only after making her blaze from the inside out that Imelda lowered herself down. Imelda reveled in this pliant girl. Yes, this was what she wanted. To sink her lips into Amanda, to see her wriggle, to hear her noisy breathing. To control her. Possess her. Drive her crazy. And not care what happened after that. At that moment, Imelda thought “She's mine.” Imelda ran her tongue over her with all her might and imagination, using her whole face and navigating herself to the reactions of Grant’s body. She relaxed her tongue, making it wide and sliding it over the soft skin, then tensed it, adding intensity. Retracting her firm clit, then her soft pink labia, then literally fucking her with her tongue, resting her nose on her clit. "Finally her long tongue is being used for its intended purpose," Amanda thought to herself. But she quickly realized that she couldn't take it much longer, and she still didn't want to be the first to give up. So she gathered her strength and broke free. For several minutes the girls tried unsuccessfully to wrestle each other, putting each other on their backs. It was more like Greco-Roman wrestling than intimacy, but that only made it more fun. Realizing the futility of their attempts, they sat on their knees side by side and both drove their fingers inside each other, moving with surprising assertiveness. “OH," Imelda said. “Mmmm," Amanda dragged into her ear almost simultaneously. The girls rested their foreheads against each other and breathed heavily. The haze of excitement had dissipated, and the real world was slowly coming in from all directions. The room with its many screens was deafeningly loud in the overall silence, rattling and whirring with magical carvers and composters as if they had just appeared around the corner, just around the next screen. Somewhere upstairs in a small room, growing plants rustled in their beds. A cozy, creamy light illuminated the clutter on the floor and the hastily thrown clothes. It got chilly as if the window suddenly opened. The girls found themselves naked in front of each other as if they had come here by accident. All the emotions at once, from shock to embarrassment, flooded over them. The game was over, and it was time for the consequences. It was obvious that things would never be the same again. After something like this, it's hard to pretend like you're still just friends and nothing out of the ordinary happened. Amanda froze, realizing that a few minutes of pleasure could have cost her the person closest to her. She forced herself to raise her eyes to Imelda. Imelda did the same. Fear glittered in the brown eyes with the smudged eyeliner, usually bold and brazen. But the longer Imelda gazed into Amanda's pale face, the more tenderness came into them. And the girls kissed.