The Guest Who Put Me on My Knees

Renata Villanueva moved through her apartment in Mendoza with the precision of someone who had turned order into a kind of religion. By six-thirty she was already back from the gym, the Lycra clinging to the body she had worked so hard to build over twelve years of consistency. By eight she was at the courts. By noon, on some radio show. By eight at night, she was making dinner for one person. That was her life, every day, for the past decade.

Sofía arrived on a Tuesday in March with two suitcases and a smile that Renata interpreted, without a second thought, as shyness. She was Marcela’s daughter, her best friend since their university days. She had just turned eighteen and had come to study her first year of law in the city. Renata gave her the guest room without hesitation. It was what anyone would do for the daughter of their best friend.

The contrast between the two women was immediate. Renata was five foot nine, blonde, with shoulders made square by years of swimming and a jaw that her colleagues described as “iron” both on and off the bench. Sofía barely reached five foot one, dark-haired, with wide hips and generous tits that no T-shirt could quite hide. Two hundred people in Mendoza knew Renata Villanueva’s name and respected her. No one knew Sofía’s name yet.

That was about to change.

***

The first week passed without incident. Renata left early, Sofía studied or slept in late, and the coexistence was comfortable and almost invisible. It was at the end of the second week that Sofía found the folder, fallen behind the bookshelf, among dust and a couple of old magazines.

That afternoon, when Renata got back from the courts still wearing the dark suit from the first hearing, Sofía was on the sofa with the tablet on. She didn’t greet her. She waited.

—Sofía, what are you doing? —Renata asked, undoing her bun in front of the entryway mirror.

—Watching a video —Sofía replied without looking up—. One of yours.

The air in the room changed. Renata approached slowly, like someone approaching something that might bite. On the screen was a Renata from ten years earlier, in a dark wooden office, on her knees, her skirt hiked up to her waist and her mouth occupied by the cock of a man any lawyer in Mendoza would recognize immediately: the current president of the Court of Appeals. The hidden camera caught every inch: semen dripping down her chin, pooling between her exposed tits, while she swallowed what she could as the man yanked her by the hair and, between gasps, dictated how to move her tongue.

—That’s not what it looks like —Renata said, in the same voice she used when a witness lied on the stand.

Sofía set the tablet on the side table and leaned back against the sofa. She was small, full-bodied, with that brown-eyed look Renata had until then read as innocence. Now she read something completely different.

—It looks exactly like what it is —Sofía replied—. You on all fours, sucking off the president of the Court while he came all over your face. And I copied it three times. Just in case.

***

That night, Renata cooked dinner. Not because she wanted to. Not because Sofía had asked nicely. But because Sofía sat on the kitchen stool, opened her legs over it, and said, with the same calm with which one asks for the salt: “I’m hungry. Make something good.”

Renata obeyed. Her hands, which that morning had held arguments in front of three judges, peeled potatoes. Every time she looked up, Sofía watched her with an expression that was half satisfied, half appraising, like someone inspecting a recent purchase.

—Faster —Sofía said at one point.

—I’m cooking, I’m not your—

—Finish that sentence and first thing tomorrow morning the video lands on the dean’s desk at the Bar Association.

Renata finished the sentence in silence. Kept cooking.

That night she slept badly. Her mind kept circling the image of Sofía on the sofa, so small and so sure. When did I lose control of this situation? The answer was uncomfortable: from the beginning. Sofía had arrived already knowing what she wanted.

***

The following days established a new rhythm. Sofía got up late, ate whatever Renata prepared for breakfast, and studied at the dining table while the lawyer got ready to leave. Before going out, Renata had to ask whether she needed anything. With the right words. In the right tone. Standing, in front of the girl who was seated.

—More coffee —Sofía would say sometimes, not looking up from her notes.

—Yes —Renata would say.

—Yes, what?

A pause. The sound of the fridge. The city outside.

—Yes, Sofía.

—Good. Bring it.

It took Renata three days to understand that the humiliation wasn’t in the acts themselves, but in the speed with which her body accepted them. By the time the first full week under that regime arrived, she no longer needed Sofía to remind her of the rules. She remembered them on her own.

***

The Wednesday night of the third week was different.

Renata came home from work and found the apartment silent. Sofía was in her room, in bed, with the light off. Renata knocked on the door.

—Come in —came the voice from inside.

When Renata entered, Sofía turned on the bedside lamp. She had taken off her T-shirt and bra. Her big tits hung with that natural weight of youth, the dark, erect nipples pointing upward. She looked solid, with that confidence in her body that doesn’t apologize for taking up space.

—Lock the door —she said.

Renata locked it.

—Get naked. All of it. And leave your clothes folded on the chair, not on the floor.

It was the first time Renata felt something besides fear. Something that didn’t yet have a name but squeezed her chest from the inside, different from the terror of losing her license. She obeyed. The blazer came off first, then the blouse, then the pants. She took off her bra and stockings with hands that barely responded. When she went to pull off her panties, she realized she was soaked. The fabric stuck to her cunt, wet, dark with stain. Sofía noticed it too.

—Show me that —she ordered, pointing at the panties on the floor.

Renata lifted them. Sofía took them between two fingers, smelled them without looking away from the lawyer’s eyes, and smiled.

—You’re dripping, Doctor. And I haven’t even touched you yet.

She stood exposed under the yellow lamp, her athletic body shining against the darkness of the room. Her nipples had gone hard in the cool air. Between her legs, the pubic hair neat, and beneath it, the lips already parted, gleaming.

Sofía watched her in silence for a moment.

—Come here.

Renata took three steps. Sofía reached out and pressed her hand, firmly, against the lawyer’s cheek. It wasn’t a slap. It was possession. Her fingers marked Renata’s cheekbone for several long seconds while she looked her straight in the eye.

—You’re shaking —she observed.

—Yes.

—Why?

Renata took a while to answer. Because I’m afraid of you. Because I don’t understand this. Because part of me doesn’t want you to let go of my hand.

—I don’t know —she said.

—Kneel.

***

Renata fell to her knees on the rug, between Sofía’s bare feet. The girl moved to the edge of the mattress, spread her legs, and revealed a hairy, dark cunt, the lips already swollen and a thick drop hanging from the entrance. She smelled intense, like a young female who had been hot for hours.

—Look at me —Sofía said—. I want you to look at me while you do it to me.

She grabbed Renata’s hair with her right hand, unhurried, and pressed her face against her cunt until Renata’s nose sank into the hair and her mouth against the lips. The lawyer opened her tongue and started licking from bottom to top, long and slow, the way it had once been done to her years earlier in other lives. Sofía let out a short, satisfied gasp.

—Deeper. Put it in me.

Renata dug her tongue between the lips, found the warm, salty interior, and started fucking her with her mouth. The girl tasted of bush and sweat, and of something sweeter that filled her palate. She ran a flat tongue over the whole cunt, moved up to the clit, sucked it with her lips, let go, went back down. Sofía pressed her head tighter against her.

—Like that, Doctor. Suck my clit. Push it in deeper. More. Your whole tongue, idiot.

Renata moaned without realizing it against the girl’s flesh, and the moans vibrated inside Sofía’s cunt and pulled short spasms from her thighs. She slid two fingers in, found that rough spot inside, and started hammering it while continuing to suck her clit, and Sofía arched, closed her thighs around the lawyer’s head, and came in her mouth. A warm, salty gush that Renata swallowed because there was no other option anymore. When she lifted her face it was shining, soaked from her groin downward. Sofía looked down at her, panting, with a slow smile.

—Good, bitch. Good.

Then she made her climb onto the bed. She laid her on her back, sat on top of her, and pressed her wrists into the mattress, using her body weight as an anchor. Sofía’s tits hung over her face. The dark nipples brushed her lips. Renata stuck out her tongue by instinct, and Sofía laughed and settled one tit into her mouth.

—Suck.

Renata sucked. She licked the nipple, ran her teeth carefully over it, opened her mouth to take in as much tit as possible. Sofía moved her hips over the lawyer’s belly, rubbing her wet cunt against firm skin, marking her with dampness.

—You’re staying here until I say so —she ordered, sliding downward until she sat astride one of Renata’s thighs. She began to ride it, moving slowly, leaving a gleaming trail against the skin—. And you’re going to learn not to come until I give you permission. Understand?

—Yes.

—Yes, what?

The same pause. The same weight.

—Yes, mistress.

Sofía spread her legs with her knee, brought her hand down to Renata’s cunt and started working her clit with two fingers, slow at first, then faster. Renata lost her breath. Twelve years without anyone touching her but herself, and now an eighteen-year-old girl had her open, soaked, moaning against a mattress that wasn’t even hers. Sofía slipped her fingers in, two first, then three, and started fucking her hand, going deep, with rhythm. With the other hand she pinched a nipple to the edge of pain.

—Look me in the eyes when you come —she said—. And you’ll ask me for permission.

—Sofía, please…

—Not Sofía. What is it?

—Mistress, please, let me…

—Not yet.

Renata writhed beneath her, thighs trembling, cunt clenching around her fingers. The girl kept fucking her by hand, now faster, seeking out that spot deep inside that nobody had found in years. When Renata couldn’t take it anymore, Sofía leaned down and bit her neck.

—Now. Come, Doctor. Shit yourself if you want. But look at me.

Renata came with a muffled cry, back arched, cunt gushing around the girl’s hand, eyes locked on Sofía’s brown eyes. It was a long, shaking, humiliating orgasm, one of those that seems never to end. When it was over, Sofía pulled her fingers out, ran them over her lips, and then put them into Renata’s mouth so she could taste herself.

—Suck them. All of it.

Renata sucked them. Sofía let her go. She lay down beside her. At some point that night, almost at dawn, Renata fell asleep with her head resting against the shoulder of the girl who had her in her fist, her own semen still drying between her thighs. It was the deepest sleep she had had in months.

***

The dynamic became routine with a speed that frightened Renata when she finally found the courage to look at it head-on. By day: the most feared criminal lawyer in Mendoza. By night: the servant of a first-year student.

Sofía began to demand more. That Renata wait for her standing at the entrance when she came back from university. That she set the table without opening her mouth until spoken to. That she sleep on the floor, beside the bed, on the days Sofía wanted that physical reminder of the hierarchy between them. That she lick her cunt while the girl studied, face buried between her legs for half an hour, no permission to come, with the young woman never lifting her eyes from her Civil Law notes.

Some nights, Sofía woke her at three in the morning to have her suck her off. Other nights, she had her on all fours in the kitchen, face against the cold tiles, while she shoved in a vibrator she’d bought online and paid for with Renata’s card. The lawyer came against the tiles, gasping, until she left her own puddle that she then had to clean up on her knees.

Renata complied. And as she complied, something inside her was changing. Shame was still there, sharp as the first day, but it was no longer the only feeling. There was something else. Something that switched on when she heard Sofía’s footsteps in the hallway. Something that squeezed her stomach —and her cunt— before the girl even opened her mouth to give the first order of the night.

This isn’t just fear, she thought one afternoon, on her knees on the floor cleaning while Sofía rested. It stopped being just fear weeks ago.

***

On Friday of the fifth week, Sofía came home from university accompanied.

—A classmate is coming to dinner —she had told her that morning—. Treat her the way you treat me. No questions. No explanations. And naked, as always.

The classmate’s name was Belén, she was twenty, and she looked at Renata with the same cold appraisal with which Sofía had looked at her that first night. As if she already knew everything. As if Sofía had told her. Belén’s eyes traveled over the lawyer’s hanging tits, over the neat pubic hair, over the red mark Sofía had left on her hip with her teeth the night before.

—So you’re the lawyer —Belén said, sitting on the sofa without being invited.

—I’m the lawyer —Renata confirmed.

—Nice piece of goods, Sofi. Make us something to snack on first.

Renata went to the kitchen. While she sliced the ham and cheese, her tits bouncing each time she stretched her arm toward the cutting board, she could hear the two of them laughing on the other side of the wall. They were talking about her. She knew it from the tones, from the silences breaking the sentences, from the short burst of laughter that erupted when Belén said something under her breath.

She served the plates. The two young women were on the sofa with their legs stretched out on the coffee table. Renata left the tray in front of them and stood waiting.

—Kneel —Belén said.

Renata looked at Sofía for a second. The girl nodded. Renata knelt on the rug, her hands resting on her thighs, her back straight. Belén made a gesture with her finger and Renata crawled until she was between her legs. The student wore a short skirt and no panties. Her shaved cunt gleamed.

—Start.

Renata lowered her face and began to lick Belén’s cunt while Sofía chewed ham a yard away, watching the scene like someone watching a movie. The new girl was louder than Sofía, pulling the lawyer’s head with both hands and gasping with her mouth open.

—Get your tongue way in there, Doctor. Fuck me with your tongue. Like that. Like that, come on, suck that clit. Oh, you do that so well, idiot.

Sofía joined in whenever she felt like it. She stood behind Renata, bent down, and started fingering her ass with saliva-soaked fingers. She slid a hand between her legs, pinched her clit with two fingers, and Renata moaned with Belén’s cunt in her mouth.

—You’re going to make Belén come and then you’re going to make her come again —Sofía said from behind—. And you’re not coming yourself, not by a fucking long shot. If you come without permission, tomorrow the video goes on the dean’s desk.

Renata kept licking. Belén came twice, the first time against her mouth, the second while she grabbed her by the hair and rode her face without letting her breathe. Then they sent her to the corner, on her knees, hands behind her back and mouth shut, and the two young women fucked each other on the sofa for almost an hour. Renata watched them without being able to touch herself, her cunt dripping down her thighs and onto the rug.

—You can go —Sofía said after they finished—. To the kitchen. And clean that stain off the floor properly, filthy girl.

Renata went to clean it. Then she went to her room. She sat on the edge of the bed and put her hands on her knees. Her hands, which that morning had signed a fee agreement for two hundred thousand pesos. Her hands, which had pointed at judges and convinced the courts for fifteen years.

She kept looking at them for a long while.

***

In the seventh week, Sofía changed one rule.

—You don’t wear clothes inside anymore. None. When you’re in the apartment, you’re mine one hundred percent. Outside, you can be Doctor Villanueva. Here, you’re what I say you are.

Renata didn’t argue. She didn’t argue anymore.

That same night, naked in the living room while Sofía watched a series on the screen, Renata found herself thinking about the first day. About the two suitcases. About the smile she had read as shyness. About how many times in her life she had underestimated someone because of height or age. About how many times she had mistaken someone’s size for the measure of their power.

Sofía switched off the screen without warning.

—Come here.

Renata approached. Sofía adjusted her hair with one hand, slowly, almost gently. It was a gesture unlike all the others. With the other hand she slid her fingers between Renata’s legs, unhurried, and found her soaked cunt. She lifted them, shining, and brought them to her mouth. She sucked them slowly.

—Are you okay? —she asked.

It was the first time she had asked it.

Renata thought of the video, of the courts, of her license, of the reputation she had spent fifteen years building stone by stone. She thought of the night she slept pressed against Sofía’s shoulder. She thought of what she felt when she heard her footsteps in the hallway. She thought of the girl’s cunt against her face, of the taste, of the weight of those thighs closing around her ears.

—Yes —she said.

—Are you sure?

—Yes, mistress.

Sofía looked at her a moment longer. She tucked the last strand behind her ear with the same calm gesture as always and turned the screen back on.

—Sit on the floor. Here, at my feet. And spread your legs, I want to see your cunt from up here.

Renata sat down. The television light lit her face. Sofía rested her bare feet on Renata’s thighs, the easy weight of someone who no longer needs to prove anything because everything has already been said and agreed. One foot slid down until it settled against her open cunt, and the young woman began to rub it, slowly, with the sole of her foot, never taking her eyes off the series. Renata closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Outside, Mendoza stayed the same. The courts, the Palace of Justice, the clients, the colleagues who respected her in the hallways. Everything the same. Doctor Villanueva would keep winning cases on Monday. She would keep being feared and admired. No one would ever know.

But at six in the evening, when the building elevator opened on the seventh floor and Sofía appeared with her backpack slung over one shoulder and that look that asked permission for nothing, Renata would be waiting for her standing by the door, naked, silent, with her legs slightly apart and her cunt already ready.

As she had taught her. As she could no longer imagine not doing. As if that, and not the courts, were the only thing that gave shape to her days.