Chapter Eleven: An Offer You Can't Refuse
"Alright then!" Rachel said sharply as she stood up and clapped her hand together briskly. Sara flinched the tiniest bit at the smacking sound it made. "First of all, you little, dumb, bitch, you've put these on all wrong.". Rachel took the chain from between Sara's breasts and tugged firmly on it. The girl's whimper quickly turned into a moan. Rachel pulled the chain upward until Sara's heavy breasts were lifted, nipples pointed at the ceiling, as she did so, the volume of the girl's cries increased. Rachel abruptly dropped the chain, giddy with delight as she watched Sara's ripe melons fall back and bounce into place. The blonde exhaled sharply. Rachel then pulled the chain straight out and unclipped one of the girl's nipples.
"Ooooohhhh" She wailed softly as the blood was allowed to return to her sensitive nipple.
Rachel then unclamped the other tit, and was rewarded by another soft moan. "Alright horny bitch" she said, in a low dangerous voice, "There's a bottle of massage oil in the hallway closet. Go get it and grab some towels while you're at it, then meet me in our bedroom.".
As a communications specialist, Rachel was in the business of words, and she was one of the best. It was a skill that propelled her to success not only in the workplace, but at Bastille as well. As a result, she didn't make mistakes with words. Her choice of pronouns was a statement of a greater commitment, and Rachel knew that, even in her aroused and lightly tortured state, Sara would hear it.
And Sara did. Her green eyes softened briefly, she started to put her arms up to hug Rachel, but stopped herself, turned, and bounded obediently down the hallway, as Rachel stared wolfishly at her jiggling bottom.
Rachel strode toward the bedroom, "our bedroom," Rachel thought, rolling the idea around in her mind. She quickly kicked her shoes into the corner and stripped of her suit. She threw the clothes in the overfull hamper, not so insane with lust that she didn't notice she hadn't done a lick of housework since Sara's birthday.
Sara came in smiling, holding the massage oil, with one of the oversized, fluffy white bath towels wrapped around her body. The tag on her collar jingled as she walked. "Are you getting modest on me now, you horny bitch?" Rachel said, pointing at the towel that was being held up by the two most beautiful breasts Rachel had ever seen, "You're obstructing my view."
"I just like it when you take stuff off me." Sara giggled. Her full hips swayed hypnotically as she walked within reach of her lover.
Rachel grabbed the top of the towel, but rather than yank it off, she pulled on it firmly, drawing Sara close to her, on her tippy-toes. She bent her head and kissed the girl softly, inhaling her wonderful youthful scent. "Remember," she said, after the kiss ended, "If I do anything you don't like, if you want me to stop, just say ài gíng."
"Got it," Sara whispered sweetly.
Now Rachel yanked the towel off Sara and gently pushed her toward the bed. "Climb up on the bed and oil yourself." Rachel ordered as she sat, backward on a dressing chair, preparing for the show. Sara climbed, naked but for her collar, onto the king sized bed and opened the bottle of massage oil. "Get your tits nice and oily, but keep those little paws of yours away from that pussy." Rachel cautioned.
Sara opened the bottle, clasped her upper arms and started to pour the clear oil over her precious cleavage. "Ooops! She giggled, her already high voice now lifted into little girl / Marilyn Monroe territory, "I've used too much oil." as a large puddle formed between her breasts.
Instead of noticing the small pour spot in the center of the cap, Sara had taken the cap entirely off the bottle and, as she upended the bottle sensually, the viscous oil began pour freely, spilling all over the bedspread."Oh, wait, shit" She said, giggling, "No, seriously Rach, too much oil!"
"Jesus" Rachel exclaimed as she leaped out of the dressing chair. She dashed over, grabbing the towel. She got the towel onto the bedspread, but not before a large greasy stain appeared on it's satiny surface. Sara righted the bottle of oil and looked at Rachel, biting her lower lip momentarily and then bursting into a fit of giggles. Rachel couldn't help but laugh either as she grabbed the girl around the waist, pulling her into her arms, coating her own expensive, lacy, black Aubade Asako bra in viscous oil. They hugged, both giggling for a few moments before Rachel moved back and said, "Get on with it!" while trying to stop smiling.
"Yes, Rachel" Sara said sweetly. She began to work the oil around her majestic body.
"Dance you sexy bitch," Rachel hissed as she, once again, took her seat in the dressing chair.
Sara began to sway seductively, her eyes closed, massaging the excess oil first into her breasts but then all over her abdomen and hips. She heeded Rachel's warnings however, and kept her hands clear of her pussy.
Rachel lost herself in the slow gyrations of her gorgeous girlfriend. She stared, her eyes roaming rapidly, back and forth, between Sara's swaying breasts and her angelic face. After a few minutes, satisfied that Sara 's front was properly oiled, she said sternly to the girl,"Don't forget your butt."
Sara stopped swaying and turned around on the bed. She poised her ass up in the air and placed her face on the oily bedspread. She reached back, and began to knead her divine cheeks, working the massage oil into a reflective sheen on her young ass. "You mean like this, Rachel?"
"That'll do for a start for a start horny bitch," Rachel instructed, "but make sure you're oiled up in the inside too."
Sara parted her cheeks, working the oil between them and then slid a well manicured fingertip into her tight puckered opening. "Oooh, God," she sighed, "Like this Rachel?"
"That's right you sexy bitch, just like that." Rachel responded.
"Ohhhh, but it's sooo dirty" the girl moaned
Rachel's self control was taking a beating. She was constantly amazed at how much the sight of this girl's body excited her. She had spent years ordering both the beautiful and not-so-beautiful into acts of sublime ecstasy and vicious depravity, and throughout most of it, she had been able to retain an iron sense of control. She took her pleasure certainly, but at the point of her choosing, never compelled by a submissive into release, before she commanded it. But Sara was a compulsion and, as she watched the 21 year old co-ed debase herself for Rachel's pleasure, her hand moved entirely on it's own, over the crotch of her panties at first but very soon they threatened to work their way inside.
"That's enough bitch!" Rachel barked harshly, pushing pulling her hand, fingers now slick with her own juices, from the waistband of her panties as she stood. "Back on your knees." Sara obeyed instantly, hopping up and turning around on her knees, like a trained seal, to face her dominant lover.
"Now you see, I think the problem you had earlier," Rachel said with a sweet yet mocking tone, "is that you got confused by the name; nipple clamps. You see, they're not just for nipples, that's why there are a whole bunch of clips on this chain." As she spoke, she drug the silver chain deliciously up and between Sara's heaving breasts. "The truth is, you can put them..." she bent now and lightly kissed Sara's side, right above a rib, "just about anywhere." As she said it, she took the last clip on the chain and fastened the little alligator clip onto the last vestiges of baby fat that remained along her ribcage. Sara closed her eyes and sucked a breath through clenched teeth.
Rachel proceeded to hook clamps in symmetrical spots on along both sides of the girl's ribs as well as to clamped tightly to the white flesh of her tits. Finally, she said "And now we're actually ready for the nipple part." She clipped both clips onto Sara's nipples and she gasped again. "Now stand up for me bitch," she said casually. Sara stood up obediently and then Rachel instructed her to put her hands behind her back. Rachel walked over to the toy box, which also hadn't managed to end up back in the closet since Sara's birthday, and took something out. She approached Sara and said "now turn around and spread em'", drawling like a bad movie cop. Sara giggled and turned around, legs spread, showing Rachel her hands. Rachel stepped up and slapped handcuffs on her. Not some cheesy, pink, fluffy novelty cuffs from the porno shop either, but heavy duty, carbon steel, Jiangsu Anhua security cuffs. Instead of a chain, there was a sturdy hinge holding the two shackles together, restricting mobility even more than would traditional handcuffs.
Rachel had never used any restraints with Sara before. She actually used them fairly infrequently at the club, preferring to exact precise control verbally whenever possible. But props have their place, and Rachel realized that in their time together most of the props she had used with Sara were more practical and less psychological in purpose. As such, she was a little unsure as to how the girl would react to a hard restraint like the cuffs. She hoped Sara wouldn't panic.
Instead, Sara just rolled her shoulder's back when the cold steel of the cuffs clicked tightly around her wrists; "Wow" she breathed.
Rachel walked around in front of Sara again and took up the slack in the chain of clamps. Grabbing the links that hung in front of both sides of the girl's body in each hand, she pulled, gently but insistently. The flesh pulled away from Sara's ribs and breasts, forming little white cones topped by the gleaming metal clips. Eventually Rachel increased the pull to the point that Rachel was leading the girl around the room as she pranced to keep to sensation at bay.
"Ow,ow,ow,ow,ow" She chirped in a high, tiny voice.
Rachel stopped pulling, "Is it too much Kitten? You remember the word right?"
"No,no, keep going, it's fine" the girl said enthusiastically.
"You really are my favorite toy" Rachel thought.
Rachel led her around the room a while longer, when she suddenly stopped and dropped the chain. She whirled around and slapped Sara across the left tit and Sara let out a sharp, surprised "Ohh!".
By Bastille standards, it was the wimpiest slap imaginable and Rachel was instantly aware of a limitation she would always have when Sara wore the black collar. She knew that no matter how hot she got, and even if Sara begged for it, she would never be able to properly slap that incredible pair of breasts let alone taking a crop or some similar tool to them. Somehow, it would be like walking up to the Venus DeMilo...and kicking her right in the cunt.
Rachel continued to smack Sara's tits like they were made of glass, but the inexperienced girl didn't know any better and she started say, "Yeah, Rachel, spank my titties hard, I've been so bad!". Rachel had to stop so she wouldn't laugh at the earnest little girl.
"OK, bitch, enough playing around. Go pick a dick from the box," Rachel ordered, "and fetch my harness as well."
"Um..."Sara said, "how can I". She turned and waved her cuffed hands at Rachel.
"Figure it out bitch," Rachel said, trying to sound cruel. She spent the next few minutes, once again, enjoying the site of Sara's boobs jiggle as she squatted with the toy box behind her, rumaging around blindly for a proper cock. Finally, Sara had pulled out what she wanted, a black, semi-rigid dildo, about 8 inches long and 4 inches around. It's length was covered with little rubber feelers.
"Ta-da!" Sara exclaimed victoriously, holding the toy and harness behind her.
"Very good, slut. Now get back on the bed with you ass up!" Rachel snapped.
Sara did as she was told. With her hands still cuffed, there was no way to keep her head up, so she lay with her face mashed into the bed. Rachel strapped in while the girl waited, trembling in anticipation. Finally ready, Rachel took her place behind Sara and grasped her hips firmly.
When Rachel slowly pushed the head of the knobby black dong between the girl's swollen lips, she let out a sigh that gave way to a moan as Rachel completed the thrust in one smooth motion. Her toy was all the way inside the girl and Rachel's hips slapped against her soft ass. Rachel began to pump her hips and the girl's cries became regular, in time with her lover's thrusts. After a minute or two, Rachel slid her index finger into Sara's oiled back channel and alternated its insertion with her driving hips. Soon, Sara was squealing with delight. "That's right! That's what I want to hear!" Rachel laughed sardonically as she stimulated both of Sara's tight holes. "I've got you all trussed up you little fuck pig!" She yelled.
Suddenly Sara stiffened. "Eye ching" she said.
Rachel stopped immediately, withdrawing her finger as well as the dildo from inside the young girl. "What's wrong Kitten, was it too deep?" she said, concerned.
"No, no" Sara said in a tiny voice "It's just, um, can you not call me that? Pig, I mean. It makes me feel fat.".
Rachel wanted to laugh, but she knew Sara, whose deliciously curvy frame was anything but fat, was embarrassed and didn't want to make it worse. It wasn't her fault, this particular hang-up was a gift from a media addicted society, Instead, she bent over the girl's back and cooed in her ear, "No,no, no, I'm sorry, you're beautiful, you're so beautiful Sara." She continued to soothe the girl, kissing her ear softly. "It's just something I'm used to saying when I'm playing the mean bitch, it doesn't mean anything, I'm so sorry, I'll never say that to you again, I promise. OK?"
("Tell her now, you'll both feel better" Rachel's little voice reasoned. She suppressed it.)
"OK, Rachel," Sara said, I'm sorry for making you stop.
"It's OK Kitten, we have that word for reason and you did the right thing telling me, I don't ever want to hurt your feelings." Rachel said, rubbing the girl's back gently.
"No Rach', I mean I'm really sorry for making you stop." Sara giggled and thrust her hips backward in the direction of Rachel's jet black cock.
With the self esteem crisis behind them, Rachel went back to work on Sara's tender young body. As Sara neared an explosive climax, Rachel climbed up on the bed behind her and squatted above her for leverage. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin as Rachel's hips repeatedly collided with Sara's round rear end, driving the toy deep and driving the girl crazy. Finally, Sara came, hard, still handcuffed, and on her face, moaning into the bedspread like a foghorn.
Without giving her a break, or uncuffing her, Rachel unstrapped, peeled off her harness and flung her self, on her back, next to Sara on the bed. "My turn you horny bitch!" she said enthusiastically and lifted her legs up and grabbed her own ankles, leaving her shaven pussy spread wide open.
Sara once again wiggled her cuffed hands and said, "Like this?"
Once again, Rachel responded, "Figure it out bitch."
Sara had to bounce and inch her way left to reach Rachel's pussy. Once in front of it, she found that licking it was easy enough, but without the use of her arms, she had to crane her neck up to breathe properly, otherwise, gravity kept her face buried in her lover's warm pussy. "We're going to play a little game now." Rachel began, "You're going to eat me out now, and those mean, nasty, cuffs should keep you from using anything besides your tongue, lips and, of course that pretty little face of yours. I'm going to give 15 minutes to make me cum. If you fail, you sleep on the couch tonight."
"Yeah, right" mumbled Sara, her mouth full of pussy.
Rachel, having been called on her bullshit, was forced to chuckle, "Just shut up and eat me bitch.".
Turns out there was no risk of Sara sleeping anywhere but in Rachel's arms that night. Sara brought the older woman to her first orgasm in four and a half minutes. By the fifteenth minute Rachel was ripping through her second and after 30 , Rachel came so hard, she had to crawl back up the bed, trying to get her hyper-sensitive pussy away from the girls' relentless mouth. As she crawled back toward the headboard, Sara pursued her, giggling, sliding along the satin bedspread by pushing her way, temporarily armless, with her feet. She continued munching at open air, trying to reach Rachel's crotch like some perverse vagina chomping Ms. Pac-Man as Rachel shrieked and laughed and tried to push her head away.
After a little more horseplay, Rachel uncuffed Sara and lay next to her on the bed. Sara rotated her shoulders and wrists, trying to return proper circulation. "I like the handcuffs," she said, "but they do make me a bit stiff.".
"Well, Kitten" Rachel said, standing up and spreading a towel across the bed, "that's why we do this after, come here.". She indicated the towel. Sara crawled across the bed and Rachel eased her, face down, onto the towel. Rachel grabbed the now mostly empty bottle of massage oil and squirted some of the remaining oil onto Sara's back. The girl squeaked when the cool lotion touched her warm, soft skin but once Rachel's hands began to gently knead the stiff muscles of the girl's back and arms, all the Kitten could do was purr.
Rachel massaged Sara for a good 30 minutes, until the girl was so relaxed, she was starting to drift off to sleep. "Don't fall asleep just yet Kitten, it's barely 8:00" Rachel whispered, her mouth almost touching Sara's ear, "We still haven't eaten yet.".
"I thought I just did," Sara laughed sleepily.
"I meant dinner, airhead" Rachel chuckled. She reached down, giving the drowsy girl a brisk pinch on her butt, grabbed her red silk kimono from the closet and, slipping it on, when out to make dinner for the pair.
Rachel went out and cooked the chicken and pasta that Sara had bought at the store. She also mixed up a little pesto and combined the three ingredients in a large pasta bowl. She put the large bowl in the center of the kitchen table, along with place settings and a bottle of chardonnay. "Dinnertime Kitten!" She called toward the back of the house.
Sara emerged a moment later, once again wearing the DKNY dress shirt she had appropriated from Rachel the previous evening. She had removed the black collar and was once again wearing the white one. Her hair was a mess and her sleepy smile made Rachel shake her head and mutter "so cute" as the girl walked over to the table and sat down.
"I feel soooo good now!" She yawned loudly as she stretched her arms above her head, wiggling her fingers.
"You enjoyed that, did you Kitten?" Rachel asked, smiling.
"Uh-hu," Sara said enthusiastically, "It was intense. I can't wait for you to try everything else in the toy box on me.".
"Yeah, about that Kitten," Rachel said wanting to establish some ground rules right away. "There are some things in there that aren't for you, OK?
"What do you mean?" Sara asked, "Like what?"
"Well, first of all kitten, there are some things in there that you just wouldn't have any use for; like a cock ring. What would you do with that silly?" Rachel asked lightly. "But also there are a few items in there that, to be honest, I just wouldn't be comfortable using in you." She continued, more serious now.
"But, if you have them, it means you must have used them on someone else, right?" Sara asked.
Rachel could almost see the subtitles appearing beneath the girl's face: "Aren't I good enough?"
"Yes Kitten, that's true." Rachel said, trying to find a way to explain the limitations she felt when she tried to dominate Sara. "But those other people, um, we were just playing a game, I didn't care about them, um, the same way I care about you. The truth is, even if you want me to, I just don't think I could ever use the hot-shot or anything that rough. It's just that, when people start playing these games, it can become kind of like a drug. First, just a little does the job, it's new, strange, exciting. I could tell you felt that when I handcuffed you tonight, right Kitten?" Sara nodded. "But eventually" Rachel continued, "a lot of people start wanting more and more, wanting to push themselves father and farther to try and achieve that same feeling. Hell, I know people that can't even get off anymore with fifty pounds of gear and two hours to put it all together.". Rachel herself very rarely had "conventional" sex before Sara came to stay. "I guess that I just couldn't stand to see you become like that Kitten.". What she didn't say was that, more than anything, she feared turning Sara into something like herself. If Rachel became responsible for that, she would surely be lost.
"It's OK, Rach'," Sara said, reaching across the table and squeezing Rachel's hand, "I get it now, you're still looking out for me. That's a good thing." Sara smiled understandingly, but didn't quite let the matter drop.
"It's just that," she began again, "I really want to see you, you know, at your baddest. I want to see you really cut loose, you know, to really show me how powerful you are."
"Oh, I don't know Kitten, my baddest would make our first time look like the massage you just got."Rachel said warily.
"I know, Rach', and I think it's sweet that you don't want to do that kind of stuff to me, but, um, maybe I could watch you do it to...somebody else? Like maybe at that club you talked about?"
This took Rachel completely off guard. Take her precious Kitten to Bastille? She wasn't sure she liked that idea at all. "Oh, I don't know if your ready for that Kitten." She said
"C'mon Rach', I wouldn't do anything. I could,just, you know, watch you do your thing." Sara pleaded.
It' was true that on any given club night, half the members in attendance were there there to see the show, not be the show, but Rachel was unsure if she wanted Sara to be a part of that world. She was pretty certain she didn't want to share her. "I'll think about it." She said, and Sara let the matter drop.
They enjoyed dinner together, and afterwords both women had obligations they needed to meet. Sara was studying for an art history exam and Rachel had some paperwork to catch up on (didn't she always). Though it may seem an odd thing to worry about, but this was a moment that Rachel had fretted over. It was the first time that the two girlfriends occupied the same space without making each other the center of their attentions. That can be a very challenging situation for any couple. One of the biggest tests to determine the strength of a relationship is whether you can spend hours together without paying attention to one another. Are you comfortable enough in your own skin to ignore your partner for hours?
In that respect, Rachel thought the evening was surprisingly comfortable. Sara read her textbook, occasionally looking an artist or piece of art on her lap top. Rachel sat on the couch with a clipboard and her smart phone working diligently. Of course, she did often sneak glances at Sara, seated at the table, occasionally rotating through a series of positions in the chair at the kitchen table; sometimes upright, sometimes with her feet up or the chair turned backwards. At one point she looked up and the girl was sitting upside down in the chair with her back on the seat, legs braced by the seat back and her cute little painted toes wiggling in the air as she read her textbook upside down. Rachel had to laugh at that one and when she did, Sara looked at her, her upside down face smiling as she made a little upside down wave. Rachel was a little appalled at how much she wanted to walk over and plant a kiss on the topsy turvy twit. Then when she actually went over and did it, she was thoroughly disgusted with herself.
Sara finished studying around 10:00 and approached Rachel on the couch. "Would it distract you from you work if I snuggle up? She asked hopefully.
"Yes" Rachel said, tossing her clipboard on the coffee table and opening her arms wide, smiling. Sara hopped onto the couch and wrapped her arms around Rachel, laying her cheek against the woman's side, beneath her left breast. Rachel reached for the stereo remote and clicked it on. Take Five began to play. For some reason the jazz masterpiece had always evoked in her images of late Autumn; fall colors and warm fireplaces.
Right then, Rachel wished so badly that she could capture that single moment; comfortable at home with Sara in her arms, warm and satisfied listening to one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever recorded. Oh to be able to preserve that moment in amber, and go back to it whenever she had the need. She didn't think she had ever been, or could ever be, more content, when Sara sighed ,with her eyes closed and said "I like Brubeck".
Rachel looked down at her dreamily and said "Did you just say that, or did I imagine it?"
"What?" Sara said, reluctantly cracking her eyes open just a bit, "I like the Dave Brubeck Quartet, I like Stan Getz better, I think, but I still like 'em, especially this song."
For some reason, in that moment, Rachel found it very hard not to cry, but she managed. "You like jazz?" she said, just above a whisper.
("For God's sake you stubborn bitch, if not her then who could it ever be? Tell her!"Rachel's little voice was screaming inside her head. It took a great deal of willpower, but she ignored it.)
"Uh-huh," Sara replied, once again closing her eyes and nuzzling Rachel's ribs with her cheek, "It's not great for dancing, but I like just listening to it. My Dad's really into jazz. He used to take mom and me to the Monterey Jazz Festival right after school started every year. We don't go every year any more, but we went two years ago and saw Sonny Rollins."
Rachel's contentment had blossomed into bright yellow joy. There were so few commonalities between herself and this impossibly young girl, so little shared context for a life outside the bedroom, that Rachel had made a conscious effort to avoid the obvious question; how could this ever work? She cherished this discovery, that, of the few pure things that Rachel loved, there was at least this one she could share with Sara.
"I like classical too."Sara continued, oblivious to Rachel's joy. "I bet you thought I listened to dub step or One Direction or something huh?".
"I have no idea what those are Kitten." Rachel sighed, drawing Sara closer to her. Sara giggled.
They spent the next two hours talking about and listening to music. Of course, the girl was all turned around on many important things: not only did she prefer Getz to Brubeck, but she preferred Mozart to Beethoven, claiming the latter's best work always made her sad. Rachel was stunned when Sara made a compelling, coherent argument that the Stones were, in fact, a better rock and roll band than the Beatles, despite the sheer ridiculousness of the premise. All she could think about was all the time she would enjoy spending setting the girl straight. Then Sara had the audacity to say the Eminem was a lot like Elvis and Rachel declared it was time for bed. The pair retreated to the comfort of their room and slept once again, happily, in each other's arms.
They awoke the next morning, their new routine in place. Rachel got into the shower first and after a while a sleepy Sara shuffled into the shower for a snuggle. They washed and conditioned each other's hair and talked about their plans for the day.
Sara had no way of knowing how important her musical conversation with Rachel had been to the older woman but she detected a slight positive change in her girlfriend's demeanor. She might have said the Rachel seemed less dour, had she any idea what the word meant.
It turned out that Sara had lunch free again, but Rachel said that she had a lot to do and would likely be stuck in the office.
"I could bring you lunch, um, if you want. If you're busy, that's totally OK, I understand, don't worry about it, I'll see you tonight and..."Sara babbled.
"Kitten, you're babbling." Said Rachel following with "If you don't mind driving all the way to the office, it would be fine, no, it would be terrific, if you wanted to stop by with lunch. We can eat in my office.
"OK, great!" Sara agreed.
After a light breakfast, the girls parted ways as Rachel prepared to go to work and Sara headed toward the the stereo carrying with her sketch pad. Rachel grabbed her purse and headed to give Sara a kiss goodbye when the girl finished inserting a disc and pressing play. Laura by Charlie Parker filled the room, compelling Rachel to give the girl an especially long kiss goodbye.
One again, Rachel breezed through the commute and arrived at the office feeling like a lottery winner. She greeted Mrs. Hart warmly and called her staff in for the first meeting. The day proceeded without incident until 11:45 when Richard called her up to his office.
"Damn, of course it has to be right now." Rachel thought, knowing that Sara would be arriving soon. She tried Sara's phone but got voice mail. "Mrs. Hart," she said, heading for the office door, "I'm headed up to meet with Mr. Pierce for a few minutes. Sara was supposed to bring lunch down here any time now, if she gets here while I'm gone, just let her into my office and tell her I'll be back soon, would you?".
"Oh, no problem, Ms. V., that will give us a chance to chat." Mrs. Hart said pleasantly.
"Why do I somehow feel that's just going to suck for me?" she wondered as she headed to the elevator.
Rachel spent the next half hour talking to Richard about the latest developments from the exciting world of train disasters and he wanted some advice. It seems as if there was a difference of opinion about whether the rail company or state transit was at fault and Richard wanted to know who Rachel thought should be thrown under the bus. Executives at the company respected Rachel's ability to remain completely detached and objective when trying to engineer a solution to unsolvable problems. If smoothing over public opinion after an incident like this called for a head, Rachel would, dispassionately, find the best one to offer up. So what if their responsibility was tenuous at best. Why did it matter how long they were with the company or if they had family or whatever other petty moral concerns there were. As long as the public didn't turn against them and they weren't caught breaking the law, the ends justified the means. Sometimes Rachel hated that about herself, her willingness to be the one to speak truths everyone else knew but lacked the courage to admit. She had never minded being thought of as a cold bitch back when she was one, but now, after the thaw had started, it was harder. She stood there as Richard asked her about pros and cons; if the company should either try to shift responsibility onto their partners with the State and file a lawsuit or fire the line manager despite his very limited culpability. Basically the choice between filling a bullshit lawsuit or creating a scapegoat. Rachel couldn't help but wonder what Sara would think, if she had been standing there when Rachel said "Fire the manager. Lawsuit's 50/50 at best, and you know what the public thinks about companies suing the government, post bail-outs".
"Good talk Rachel, thanks. I'll keep you in the loop on this" Pierce said.
Rachel excused herself and headed back down to lunch, feeling a little pang of guilt, or shame, she wasn't sure which, as she was relatively unfamiliar with both. She was looking forward to seeing Sara until she walked in and saw Mrs. Hart and the girl having a good laugh together, presumably at Rachel's expense. "I don't like the look of this one bit." She said dryly.
They both stood up, smiling in unison, apparently already thick as thieves. "God, Rachel thought, how long was I up there?".
"Hi" Sara said
"Oh, Ms. V., we were just talking about..." Mrs. Hart began before Rachel put her hand up.
"I don't even want to know Mrs. H." Rachel said, shaking her head, smiling a little in spite of herself.
"That's right!" Sara said in mock solemnity, "She's very serious."
"Quiet you," Rachel said good naturedly.
Sara looked around at the empty office and the empty hallway beyond it, then she looked at Mrs. Hart and asked "do you think it would be OK if I gave her a little kiss on the cheek?".
"Sara!" Rachel said, horrified.
"I'm sure it's fine dear," Mrs. Hart answered, grinning, "After all, she's the boss around here."
"That's right, I am the boss and...hey" Rachel stammered as Sara playfully walked over to her, "why are you even asking her anyway?", but it was too late, Sara stood on her tip toes and pecked Rachel on a burning, brilliant red, cheek.
Rachel shook her head and face palmed herself. "I used to run things around here." she sighed.
Sara, still smiling, held up a deli take out bag; "Ready to eat?" she said.
Rachel held out her hand, pointing her in the direction of her back office, "After you. Mrs. H., would you care to join us?"
"Oh, no, thank you, I was planning to meet some of the ladies in the break room for Scrabble during the break." She replied, most likely not wanting to intrude.
"Are you sure?" Rachel asked. She actually hoped her assistant would join them, rather than assume they were in her office having a repeat of the "car trouble" that plagued their first lunch date on Monday.
"I'd like to, but Leticia beat me last week by stealing my triple word score and I'm itching for some payback." Mrs. Hart replied with lighthearted determination.
"Go get her Marcia!" Sara enthused.
With that, Mrs. H left for her championship match and the couple headed back into Rachel's office.
"I hope your not mad about the kiss," Sara half teased.
"You know, when I told you on Monday that you don't embarrass me Kitten?" Rachel asked rhetorically, "Well, that's not entirely true. You embarrass me a little bit, but in a good way. I need you to embarrass me sometimes. For a long time, I've been...uh, how to put it...". It was unusual for her to have trouble finding the right words.
Fortunately, Sara had just the right ones; "Rachel, I think you're trying to say that even though you are this completely awesome, super-woman, and you totally are, by the way, that maybe, every once in a while, you may have a teensy weensy giant stick up your butt."
Rachel laughed at the girls directness, "Yes, basically Kitten, but you should watch your phrasing.".
Rachel and Sara enjoyed the salad and chicken wraps that the girl had picked up on the way and Sara, once again, began asking questions. Today the topic was Rachel's job. Sara wanted to know all about the train accident and how it impacted Rachel. She was fascinated to learn that Rachel sometimes wrote the press releases that ended up on those blue digital screens on the news. When Rachel told her that sometimes, she even had to do press conferences, Sara was amazed.
"You mean, like up at a podium, with all those different kinds of microphones in your face?" She said, obviously impressed.
"Hardly, Kitten." Rachel admitted, "we're not the government, our press conferences are usually a half dozen fairly untalented financial reporters for newspapers and CNBC.".
"Oooh, you have to tell me if you're gonna be on TV, OK?" Sara asked, eyes wide.
"Sure thing," Rachel replied, "Do you want me to give a shout out to my girlfriend while I'm on camera?".
Sara's eyes got even bigger for a moment, and then her brow furrowed. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?", but she laughed and said "I'm going to call you on your cell right when you go on and..."She looked around furtively, even though they were alone in the office, "and start talking dirty to you.".
"If it was like the call I had with you yesterday, it will be the shortest damn press conference in history." Rachel smiled.
Towards the end of the lunch hour, Rachel brought up the subject of Bastille. "So, Sara, were you serious about wanting me to take you to my club?"
"Yes, I really was. I really want to see you, I don't know, at maximum strength I guess. I mean, I'd like to see you like that, I think, and, also, um, I'm working on this project for my art class and I think the setting and, you know, the vibe I guess, would really help me for part of this piece I'm trying to create."
Now Rachel was intrigued; "Tell me about this art project, Kitten." she asked.
"Um, I'd rather wait, I'll tell you about it, I promise, but I'm not sure it's going to work. It needs to have a dark side to part of it and to do it justice I think I need to see something...dark.".
Rachel wasn't sure if this "art project" was entirely on the level, but if Sara was willing to embellish her reasons for wanting to go, Rachel wouldn't deny her. As it turns at, Rachel never would be much good at denying Sara anything, at least not for more than an hour or so.
"Alright Kitten, I'll make a call this afternoon and make some arrangements, and I'll take you on your little sight seeing trip sometime soon, OK?"
"Deal!" said Sara, clearly ecstatic.
The lunch hour ended, Sara kissed Rachel, chastely and the cheek again and left the office. On her way out, Rachel heard the conversation.
"Oh, goodbye Sara, nice to see you."
"I'll call you about that thing."
"Right. Good, we've got a couple of months yet"
"Dear God," Rachel groaned inwardly, "let me guess, she's going to bring cupcakes in on my birthday."
Rachel realized that, in fairness, if these were the sum total of her troubles these days, she didn't really have any, and got back to work. Around four she took a brief break to call Renee.
Renee, one of her very few friends, was her partner of sorts down at Bastille. They had met at the club a few years back when Renee and her husband Milo were new to the scene. They had their own amateur dom/sub thing going and were looking to expand their horizons. They gravitated to Rachel, like a lot of newbies, because of her skill with verbal domination and role play as well as her fairly minimalist attitude towards corporal punishments and the like. In Rachel's mind, to a submissive, being dominated was a psychological state, and for Rachel, reaching that state via the mind was far more challenging than beating the shit out of somebody. Which isn't to say the latter was entirely without it's uses.
Over the years, the two had become friends, at least within the constraints of the club environment. Renee was a few years younger and had very much learned to mimic Rachel at first, as she taught her the proper way to treat Milo, or the Worm as they often called him at the club, but overtime, she added her own flavor and being worked over by the pair of them in tandem became the main event in a few of the club's more recent legendary weekends. They both enjoyed a kind of celebrity, often admired as the Sisters of No-Mercy, in the late-night, dark cornered world of Bastille.
Rachel waited for Renee's cell to ring through, until finally she heard, "What do you want Bitch?!" in a haughty homegirl voice.
"To bust your balls Bitch," Rachel said, laughing.
"So where have you been my Sister? Two weekends in a row, and you have been absent girl, the legends are startin' to fade!" she heard Renee say into the phone. For some reason, Rachel enjoyed the fact that, when it was just the two of them, Renee always talked like Foxy Brown. Renee was, in fact, one of the most talented trial attorneys in Southern California. She graduated cum laude from USC and the top of her class at Columbia Law. Now she specializes in environmental class action suits. In fact, Renee's firm and Rachel's had even ended up at odds in court but that had never impacted their friendship. Neither of them were solely about work. Like Rachel, Renee was a master of manipulating the English language, and that skill had made her equally popular at Bastille.
"Been busy, you know how it is, bustin' ass for the man" Rachel laughed
"Uh-huh, you maybe girl, I only bust ass for the man Monday through Thursday, weekends are all about bustin' asses for myself." Renee cackled.
"Well, that's kind of why I'm calling Renee, I'm coming down to the club Friday night and I kind of need a favor."
"Sure Sister, what can I do for you?" Renee asked.
"Well, I'm going to be bringing someone, a lamb actually."
" Whoa,whoa, wait a minute. You are bringing a lamb into the club? How in the hell anyone trust a lone wolf with a lamb, Sister?" Renee said laughing.
"Yeah, yeah, it's not like that, well... maybe it is, but still. She is coming down because she wants to see me do my thing at full blast, if you get me. I was hoping I could ask you to look out for her, you know, keep her close by while I'm, otherwise engaged." Rachel explained.
"Do you mean keep her close by, like I own her or keep her close by like I'm her damn bodyguard?" Renee inquired.
"Bodyguard." Rachel said quickly.
"Really? Well I am intrigued girl, I cannot imagine what a hard-ass bitch like yourself has that's worth protectin' down there." Renee said, clearly surprised by the uncharacteristic nature of Rachel's request.
"I'm serious Renee, can I count on you?" Rachel said earnestly.
Renee dropped the act, "Of course you can Rachel, I'll keep her close, everything will be fine OK?"
"Thanks Sister, I owe you one." Rachel said sincerely.
She spent a few more minutes catching up with Renee, but evaded questions about Sara. After hanging up, she made another call. She took a black business card out of her pocketbook. It was embossed only with a phone number. She dialed the number on her cell.
"Yes?" said a dry sounding female voice.
"0614" Rachel said.
"confirmation?" the voice said.
"Nightshade" Rachel responded.
"Very good, 0614 confirmed, what can I do for you?" The female voice said, suddenly sounding much friendlier.
"Friday night I'll be bringing a guest, I need to arrange transportation." Rachel said.
"Pick up and passengers please?" the voice replied quickly.
"11:00 sharp, home address, two." Rachel said.
"Very well, a car will arrive for you at your home address at 11:00 on Friday. Please remind your guest that electronics of any sort are not permitted."
"Of course" Rachel said curtly and hung up the phone.
She finished up around 5:40, grabbed her things and headed to the outer office where Ms. Hart was, likewise, preparing to call it a day. "Good night Mrs. H., don't worry about tomorrow, we'll muddle along without you. Have a good trip North." Rachel said.
"Good night Ms. V. and thanks." Mrs. Hart answered back, "Tell Sara it I had fun visiting with her,"
"I'll do that." Rachel replied
"You know, she's very taken with you." Mrs. Hart said kindly. I'm not sure she's ever known a woman who's accomplished as much as you have. It's like she idolizes you."
"Well, there's no accounting for taste I suppose" Rachel said, a touch ruefully.
"Don't be ridiculous, Ms. V., I think it's great, her getting to see what a woman can accomplish if she puts her mind and her back into it. You're a great example for her.". Marcia soothed.
"From your lips to God's ear, Marcia. Have a good weekend." Rachel left the office heading for the elevator.
End Chapter Eleven:__________________________________________________________________