Chapter Three: Don't be a Hero
The next morning was a Saturday and Rachel drank deeply from one of life's greatest vices; sleeping in. She awoke around 9:00 but didn't drag herself out of bed until quarter of 10. She hit the treadmill while watching the morning news. She felt great, relaxed and happy. "Now that I've got that bitch out of my system, I can get on with my life" she puffed to herself as she ran on the treadmill. "Yes indeed" she said out loud, "a wonderful diversion but now I can get my focus back".
(A tiny voice in her mind said "get your focus back from those amazing tits?")
"That's right" she affirmed aloud to herself, "back to paying attention to what is important."
("Like her soft, tanned ass?" The tiny voice asked)
"Nope," Rachel said a touch maniacally, "Who cares about whatshername."
("You know her name, liar" her mind argued with her will).
Rachel stopped the treadmill and whispered "Sara". "Goddammit!" She yelled at herself. "Right now, Sara is probably bent over in front of Tab, the frat boy dick bag, taking his tiny cock in her ass and loving it. Now that she's getting what she wanted, she probably won't even come back." she thought. If the thought was supposed to make her feel better, it didn't.
Frustrated, she went early to the MMA gym, planning on a double session of Krav Maga practice. She reasoned that what she needed was a non-sexual release, and spending a few hours kicking butt was just what the doctor ordered. Of course, things didn't work out that way. She was working out with Pete, a stocky Italian guy who had started classes just a few months after Rachel. Normally, they were an even match, her reach countering his slight weight advantage and her speed pitted against his strength. Today however, she kept getting distracted thinking about Sara and Tab. Pete was able to take her down repeatedly. He noticed, and asked what was up, but she brushed him off and decided to call it quits for the day.
Not wanting to return to her apartment just yet, she decided finally to make the trip to the mall she had been putting off. Rachel browsed the Mall in her workout clothes, selecting a few new work outfits at Nordstrom and then drifted over to Victoria's Secret. Most of her club attire was not the kind of thing you bought at V.S., for those things, she shopped a few fetish stores in Hollywood and the Valley, but the ubiquitous Victoria's Secret did occasionally have a few odds and ends that she liked. While ambling through the shop, her eyes were drawn to a mannequin wearing a midnight blue, satin camisole and matching high cut french briefs. It wasn't really her usual style, way too soft and girly, but she continued to eye it nonetheless. Without wanting it to, the question popped unbidden into her mind, "Do you think Sara would like me in this?". Rachel stood there in front of the mannequin and face-palmed herself. "I did NOT just think that" she said, too loudly. A woman in the next aisle looked at her strangely and Rachel decided that what she needed most was a drink. She rushed back to her car and drove back to her apartment.
Once inside, she pulled off her Purdue sweatshirt and, wearing only her Lycra work out pants and sports bra, she went to the fridge and pulled out and Amstel light. As she sipped at the ice cold beer, she debated going down to Bastille in the evening. Non-sexual release hadn't worked out so well so maybe it was time to give the old standby another try. Her musings were interrupted by a knock at the door. Rachel cursed her traitorous heart as it leaped into her throat. She walked quickly to the door and looked through the peephole. Sara was standing outside.
The little blonde was wearing jean shorts and a Hollister t-shirt. Once again, she seemed to have forgotten a bra and once again, she appeared to have been crying. Her eye make-up was streaked and her face was as red as it had been the previous night and she held both hands close up to her mouth. "Haven't I seen this movie already?" Rachel thought as she opened the door.
As soon as Sara saw Rachel, she started to sob. "Come on in" was all Rachel said. Sara walked past Rachel into the living room. She faced the wall, not far from where Rachel had fucked her for the first time four days ago. "What's wrong this time?" Rachel said, trying hard to sound annoyed.
"I did what you said," Sara said through her sobs, still refusing to turn around and face the older woman. "It didn't work."
"Tell me what happened Sara," Rachel said, trying to fight her rising concern.
"We were having sex," Sara sniffled, "and I had just, you know, sucked him. I told him that I wanted him to fuck me in the ass, and he said no, that it was gross, so I looked him in the eye and said 'be a real man and fuck my ass right now' but instead, of doing it, he just got really mad".
Rachel had a sickening feeling she knew where this was going. "Sara" she said gently, "turn around". Sara didn't move so Rachel stepped closer to her and gently placed her hands on the girl's shoulders, "turn around" she said again.
Sara turned around but kept her hands up to her mouth. "Let me see" Rachel coaxed and lightly pulled Sara's hands away from her mouth. She could see the swelling and a small trace of blood where the girl's lip had been split. Rachel's reaction was immediate and violent.
"He fucking HIT YOU!" Rachel yelled. Sara began to cry harder. "Oh NO he fucking DID NOT" Rachel spat. "Where is he?" She demanded.
"What?" Sara said through her tears
"I said where the fuck is he?!" Rachel repeated harshly.
"After he hit me, I just got my clothes and ran up here. He's probably still in my apartment, but what..." Sara began.
"You just wait here," Rachel said through clenched teeth, "I'll be back in a few minutes and we'll get some ice on that. Promise me that you'll wait here."
"OK" Sara said meekly
"Promise me" Rachel demanded again.
"I promise" Sara said, looking strangely at the older woman.
Rachel grabbed her sweatshirt, pulled it roughly over her head, grabbed her purse and rushed out the door. By the time she reached the elevator, her vision was clouded red, and little sparks were flashing behind her eyes. To be fair, she thought of herself as a bitter, angry person even on the best of days, but now she felt like she was on fire, some ancient pagan deity of bloody fucking rage. She rode the elevator down to 16 and marched to the girl's apartment. She took a deep breath and knocked gently on the door. After a few minutes, the door opened and a young man was standing there. In his hands was a cardboard box filled with mens clothing and a few odds and ends. "Hi," Rachel said as cheerfully as she could manage, "are you Tab?". "Yeah," the young man said, clearly a little confused. Tab was a pretty big guy, standing 6 foot and weighing around 190 pounds. Rachel seemed to recall that Sara had said he played lacrosse, or rugby or some other stupid college sport.
Whoever coined the phrase "The bigger they are, the harder they fall" must have had a taser like the one in Sara's purse because when she pulled it out and shot the micro darts right in the middle of the Greek S, A, and E on the front of his sweatshirt, that big fucker fell, real hard. Rachel clicked the taser off and she pounced on top of him, landing with all her weight on her knee, right in the frat boy's crotch. She quickly rammed her forearm up against his windpipe, then she balled up her other fist and fired a short, stinging blow to the meat head's upper lip, drawing blood; a little memento of the experience he was having. "Are you listening to me Tab" Rachel demanded, her teeth barred and inches from the stunned boy's nose. Tab could barely groan between the pain and his reduced air supply. "You better be listening because you only get to hear this once you pathetic piece of shit! You stay away from her, you don't talk to her, you' don't fucking come around her, and if you ever, I mean fucking ever, lay a finger on her again I swear to Christ that I will fucking castrate you, and you will never even see it coming!" Spit was flying from her mouth, landing on the boy's face as she snarled at him. "Do you believe me you shitheel?!"
"Yethh..." Tab managed to gurgle.
"Good" Rachel sneered, "Get the rest of your your shit. If you've got a key to this place, leave it on the counter and get the fuck out! You DON"T want to see me again!". She got up, deliberately using Tab's crotch to support her weight as she rose and then she stormed off back to the elevator, leaving the pathetic bully still lying on the floor, struggling to catch his breath. As the elevator doors closed behind her, Rachel leaned against the wall of the car and exhaled sharply, trying to will the adrenaline that coursed through her body to dissipate. What the fuck had come over her?
By the time a woman was Rachel's age, sadly, she would almost certainly know someone who was the victim of a batterer, if not, unfortunately, be a victim herself and Rachel was no exception. She had a housemate in grad school, not really a friend but not too annoying as house mates go. She came home one day with a black eye after taking a trip with her fiance. Rachel had offered to loan her money to leave town or drive her to a crisis center but at no point had she entertained the notion of going Rambo on the guy responsible. When the housemate went back to her fiance the next week, Rachel simply decided that some people don't want to be helped because they're idiots and she washed her hands of the lot of them. It was a harsh attitude, but she was, frankly, a harsh person. Somehow though, this had been different. Seeing Sara wounded like that had made her feel so, so what? Protective? Possessive? Guilty? She didn't know, but she knew that she didn't want to see her that way again.
When she got back to the apartment, Sara was sitting very still on the sofa staring out the window. When Rachel came into the room, Sara jumped up and started to cross the room quickly in Rachel's direction. She suddenly stopped though, and simply stood there as though she was unsure what to do with herself.
Rachel proceeded to the kitchen freezer and began preparing an ice pack. She returned to the living room, where Sara had returned to her seat by the window. She looked up at Rachel expectantly. Rachel handed Sara the ice pack and said "put this on your lip."
Sara complied, holding the zip lock bag full of crushed ice up to her injured lip. "What happened?" She asked finally. Rachel told her everything that happened and then waited for Sara's reaction.
"Why did you do that?" Sara asked, tears returning to her eyes.
"Oh Jesus, you are not going to tell me that you're going to go back to him are you, you little moron?" Rachel asked, suddenly angry again.
"No, no, we're through for sure, that's not what I mean" Sara said hurriedly "I mean, um, why did you do that...for me? Why would you care enough to risk yourself like that?"
Rachel wasn't exactly surprised by the question, she had been asking herself that since she had let go of Tab's throat, but she still didn't have an answer. She wanted to say that she just hated people that bullied women but in light of how she had met Sara, somehow that might ring hollow.
"I don't know Sara," she said finally, "I really don't"
Sara let the matter drop and they both sat there in silence for a while. Finally, Rachel said, "I don't think you should go back to your apartment tonight. It probably won't matter, but just to be on the safe side, maybe stay away for the rest of the weekend. Do you have someone you can stay with?"
"I can stay at the sorority," Sara answered, "but I'd need some things from my apartment
"Alright," Rachel said decisively, "You definitely shouldn't go down there tonight so I tell you what you're going to do. You can stay on my couch tonight and tomorrow morning we'll go downstairs and pick up your stuff and I'll drive you over to campus. Understood?"
"Uh-huh" Sara answered, seemingly cheered up by the fact that Rachel had taken charge of a difficult decision. They continued to sit, and things were starting to feel awkward when Sara began asking Rachel a series of basic questions about her life: what did she do, where was she from, did she go to college, that kind of thing. Rachel answered her questions, relieved at least that the ditzy girl wasn't talking about herself.
Sara asked her, "So what do you like to do for fun, besides molest helpless sorority girls?" She was smiling when she said it and Rachel couldn't help but laugh.
"Actually," Rachel replied, "that's just about it. I go to work, and then I come home and sodomize college girls every single night. In fact, I probably shouldn't have asked you to stay here. I'm supposed to abuse the hell out of two girls from Chi Alpha Delta tonight."
"The Asian girls?" Sara laughed. "You know they won't put out like I do." She said smiling with mock seduction.
"I'm not sure anyone puts out like you do little girl." Rachel responded only half jokingly.
The late afternoon segued into evening like that, the two women joked and made playful comments with each other. Sara continued to ask questions and it was clear that she didn't just look like an airhead, but she tried hard to understand Rachel's answers when it came to the specifics of her job. The weekend news came on at 5:00 and they watched that after Rachel opened a bottle of wine. Sara had another dozen questions about what was on the news and it was pretty clear her focus had always been more on E!News than actual news. Rachel thought it odd that Sara didn't talk about herself hardly at all. Considering that one of the chief reasons Rachel had chosen such a solitary life was that people seemed so damn needy all the time. In fact, her interactions with Sara before this afternoon had all focused around some ridiculous problem the girl was having. Nevertheless, that afternoon, for the first time, they spent time together not screaming at each other or fucking each other senseless, and Rachel couldn't help but be surprised at how easy it was to tolerate her questions. For her part, Sara just seemed to want to know everything about Rachel.
Rachel threw together a couple of salads for the pair to eat at dinner time, and they polished off the first bottle of wine and opened up a second. Both of them were buzzing pretty hard by the time they finished dinner. When Rachel was in the kitchen putting their dinner plates in the dishwasher, Sara channel surfed. When Rachel returned to the room, the TV was on a rerun of Friends, one of the episodes that must have been about a break up because some British bitch was yelling at the dorky looking guy about trust and honesty or some such drivel. Sara was watching with a sullen expression. Rachel saw this and stepped back into the kitchen to grab something.
"Still wallowing in the dumps eh kid?" Rachel said with her best mocking paternal tone as she re-entered the room, one hand behind her back, "I know what you need to cheer you up Kitten."
Rachel walked, hand behind her back, over to the sofa and leaned part way over Sara. "Do you know what it is?" She asked slyly.
Sara slid her hand onto Rachel's forearm and smiled wickedly, "Is it a big toy you're going to fuck me up the ass with?".
Rachel stopped short, a little unsure how to proceed. "Um, actually," She said awkwardly as she took her hand out from behind her back. In it was a pint of ice cream. "I was going to say Mint Chocolate Chip", Rachel looked momentarily embarrassed and Sara started to laugh hysterically. The girl fell back into the couch, clutching her belly and laughing. Rachel couldn't help but laugh as well. "Well," Rachel said finally, grabbing the still giggling girl by the wrist and pulling her up off the couch, "when you're right, you're right. Come on."
"Oooh, yes Ma'am!" slurred the slightly drunk sorority girl as she followed the older woman back to the master bedroom.
"Bring the ice cream," Rachel commanded, "maybe I feel like eating it off your ass." This made Sara giggle even more.
Back in the master bedroom, Rachel mostly relied on a somewhat gentler version of last night's playbook. She knew that the wrong cue could easily remind the girl about the trauma she had undergone earlier in the day and that was the last thing Rachel wanted. She may enjoy hurting the girl, but not that way. That night, Sara was Kitten, not horny bitch, and, while Rachel still fucked her anally with the strap-on because Sara begged for it, she was slower, and more gentle. She found that she was getting just as aroused though. After Sara came from the buttfucking, she took the initiative. She pushed Rachel back onto the bed and started unstrapping her harness.
"What are you up to Kitten?" Rachel asked playfully.
"It's my turn to take care of you" Sara said and she took the translucent rubber phallus and began to push it gently into Rachel's exposed labia.
"Holy shit..." Rachel sighed as the dildo slid into her depths. Sara took her cues from how Rachel had treated her, and fucked the older woman slowly, making her feel every inch of the toy as it passed in an out of her drooling pussy. Sara fucked her like that, non-stop for twenty minutes until Rachel had another mind blowing orgasm. She bit into the flesh of her upper arm, arching her back. She called out loudly, saying just one thing, "Sara!" she screamed.
("Whatshername?" The little voiced in her head teased as she collapsed back onto the bed.)
"Sara" she said again weakly as she closed her eyes.
Rachel opened her eyes a moment later, and Sara was sitting on the bed next to her, naked, hugging her knees to her chest, swaying a little drunkenly. "Welcome back" she said, smiling.
"Good to be back," Rachel sighed. "That's it, I'm done. Hate to sound like a typical man but I've had my way with you and now I'm going to sleep."
"Do you want me to go back out to the couch?" Sara asked timidly, still hugging her knees.
"That depends, do you snore" Rachel said casually.
"I don't think so" Sara replied.
"If you're lying, I'm kicking your ass right back out to the couch" Rachel said.
Although they had had sex three times now, Rachel had never really done anything tender or romantic with Sara. Between the fact that Sara had some obvious hang ups about sexuality and the fact the Rachel had never been much into "kissy kissy", everything they had done together had been simply about achieving orgasm. Nevertheless, after Rachel turned off the light next to the bed, she held out her arm. "C'mere Kitten" she said softly and Sara immediately slid over and snuggled up next to the older woman. Rachel put her arm around Sara protectively and Sara laid her head in the crook of Rachel's shoulder.
"You know," Sara said as Rachel began to drift away contentedly, "You haven't called me horny bitch all day".
"Shut up and go to sleep horny bitch." Rachel whispered.
"That's better" Sara said softly and snuggled in tighter.
End Chapter Three:__________________________________________________________________