Beyond Hell and Back Ch. 02

Rachel let her head fall back on the pillow, laughing. "You are such a bitch."

"Aw, Holly sorry," Holly said in the same infantile voice, returning to her sitting-up straddling position. "Maybe I should give yours a little lovin' then, huh?" She leaned down towards Rachel's right tit, brought her hand and her tongue to within an inch of it, then suddenly sat back up and said, "Or should I?"

Rachel rattled the cuffs with aggravation. She loathed being teased, which was exactly why Holly was teasing her. Holly loved getting the best of her girlfriend. She loved knowing she was the one with the power. She loved to make the chick who'd stolen her heart beg, keeping her in check, holding her princess (and her princess's hyper sex drive) under her control and trained to obey her. Rachel was still laughing but now just a little less good-naturedly. "I am so gonna fuckin' kill you," she mumble-chuckled.

"Oh, just like you so fuckin' killed me the last hundred times?" said Holly, poking at her torso and her titties just like before. "Huh? Huh? What're you gonna do?" she taunted. "What are you going to do?"

Trying not to succumb to the tingly sensations being triggered in her nerve endings, Rachel just continued to rattle and struggle and giggle, flinging inaudible nasty words at her. Finally, Holly said, "All right, I guess that's enough teasing...for now." She propped herself on her hands in the mattress again and started to settle down and lower her body onto Rachel's. "Mmmm...yes, baby..." swam out of Rachel's lips.

Just before their bodies overlapped, Holly pushed herself back up off her again. "Or is it?" she asked.

"Fuck you."

"Ooh, little impatient, aren't ya, sweetie? Okay, for real, this time," Holly said. She hastily lowered her body back down on Rachel's, their bared breasts mingling together, lips open to taste one another. They were underway.

A few moments in, Hobbie trotted into the room and hopped on the bed. He cocked his head, watching for a couple seconds. "Mrrrraaaoow?" he asked.

Holly and Rachel both halted in activity, opened their eyes, sighed, and Holly slowly raised herself back up again. "Really?" she asked the air. "My cat is cuntblocking me?" She got off the bed and picked up Hobbie, who started to protest. "A'right, ya little puffball," she muttered, picking him up and carrying him out. "Mommy and Auntie Rachel are going to have sex now," Rachel heard Holly tell him in a motherly voice. Holly dropped Hobbie on the couch, dashed back to the bedroom, jumped behind the door before her cat could return, shut it, breathed out an, "Okay then," took a moment to recapture the mood, slowly turned back to Rachel, leered at her and announced in a low, ominous voice, "You'd better be scared, girl-slave...'cause now that I own that naked pussy of yours...I can do whatever I want to it."

Rachel felt another little chill go through her. Her vagina suddenly became frightened (in a good way) and dampened.

***

May 30th, 5:38 p.m.

Rachel's sweat-dripping groans were bouncing like bubbles off the walls.

Holly had forced her to wait for a good long while and endure some agonizing teasing which was basically torture, but was now finally practically raping her, pinning her body down with her own. Rachel was grabbing at the headboard, trying to break it, drive her fingernails through it, whatever would work. Her nipples were standing elegantly erect. Holly's clothes were on the floor, the soft curves of the two now both naked women gliding into one another perfectly. Holly's hot skin on Rachel's caused them both to melt with sweat, their tongues swimming in each other's mouths in between generous doses of oral love Holly also delivered elsewhere. Both of Holly's legs were wrapped around Rachel's right leg, squeezing it tight, her arms in continuous motion as her hands aggressively yet seductively titillated her—pun most certainly intended—lips then working their way up one side of Rachel's quivering frame, floating over to cover the other, unkissed side, hair tickling the ripe flesh with the lightest swishes.

Rachel's muscles were getting sore from fruitlessly pulling on the cuffs. She didn't know why she always struggled—she knew she wasn't going anywhere. She had to believe it was because Holly drove her so crazy she wanted to be able to return the favor. But like any good slave, she had to lie there, absorb her discipline, suffer her "punishment," and be taught her lesson.

Holly had said she owned Rachel's pussy, and she meant it, and left Rachel's imagination to what her pussy's fate would be, but as mentioned, she loved foreplay. And when she made Rachel wait and wait for it and watched her just grow more agitated each minute with anxious lust, she just fell even deeper in love with her. It brought her such glee to trifle with her girlfriend's intolerant mind, making her go crazy, never knowing just when her pussy might be truly owned, if the drift be caught.

Their lips broke from yet one more electrifying kiss and Holly raised her head. They were panting like canines, hearts beating against each other, and Holly scooted over, glancing down behind them and remarking to Rachel, "I think this leg's gettin' a little lonely, huh, babe?" Rachel exhilaratingly nodded, agreeable to just about anything right now, and Holly leg-locked Rachel's left gam.

Over an hour had elapsed since the naked girl-on-girl activity had commenced. Several times Holly intentionally swept her hands about Rachel's nether-region, but did not actually touch or activate it just yet, and it was driving Rachel insane. Eventually, to Rachel's great relief, Holly too was seriously craving the action that lay right between those smooth thighs. She let her left hand glide down her girlfriend's hot, heaving body, and her fingers slowly tippy-toed down her waist and kept going...

Sensing it finally upon her this time, Rachel started breathing a mile a minute. "Yes...yes...GOD, yes...fuck, YES!" she exulted, grabbing onto Holly's lips with her own like a suction cup. Holly released her left leg, shifted over a little, Rachel turning her head to keep their lips locked, as Holly started dancing her fingers through the fur covering her playmate's pleasure portal. Holly brushed the sweaty gold-highlit hair out of Rachel's face with her right hand, combing through the back of it down to her shoulder. They broke the kiss to take a couple of well-needed breaths. Once Holly's fingers dug through Rachel's small hairy patch over her snatch and reached the entrance, she raised her gaze to Rachel's, all four eyes afire with desire, nuzzled her nose, and whispered, "Ready?"

As if she really needed to ask the question. Rachel nodded vigorously and rasped out a half-audible, "Yes, please..." and Holly said, "All right then...open sesame." Her fingers spread the labia ajar, and in one of them ventured. Rachel's brain wasted hardly a second transferring the signals. She tightened up, clenching, her face scrunching, biting her bottom lip in long-awaited ecstasy. Holly began with her single index finger, other fingers holding open the gate, as the lone explorer wandered the cave, lightly in and out at first. It wasn't as if the finger had never explored the cave before, obviously, and so it knew its way around. It knew the nooks and crannies, where to go and where not to trespass, just how far, and when to time the addition of one of its digital buddies, two (or more, if possible) of them exploring together.

Holly's right hand, meanwhile, was massaging Rachel's breasts, gliding over the surface, letting the nipples tickle her palm. Her mouth was making a heart-shaped pattern of kisses around her middle. Rachel's back was arching, her neck was craning, tilting her head back further and further. Holly advanced to the next segment of play. Keeping her left hand busy at its duty, she slid her body down Rachel's side, her right hand down her tummy and her waist, and finally joined her left. Still unable to wrench herself free, even if she wanted to, Rachel was dying with expectancy and eagerness. Even though the visitor was already inside, it was time to ring the doorbell. Holly again brushed her bush to either side with her right hand, told her left to send in another sentry, gently did so, and rapidly started tongue-flicking her clit, 360° all the way around, just the way Rachel liked it.

The intensity quickly built. Rachel's groans escalated to howls. Had the handcuffs been built of any material less sturdy and durable, she would have ripped them right apart. She pushed her larynx to the limit, shrieking cries of exponentially multiplied frenzy. The first times they performed this act together, to this result at the current point, Holly found herself thanking God she lived in a standalone house, for just this reason. The last thing they needed was a worried neighbor pounding on the door, thinking someone was being murdered. Now she didn't give it a second thought.

Holly rotated her left hand, palm up, in mid-thrust, so as to more easily access and stroke Rachel's g-spot. She thrusted and parried, hard and soft, high and low, gradually bringing her closer and closer, and at last, once she finally decided Rachel had waited long enough, Holly reached her soft, spongy million-dollar area. Holly's just happening by chance to be ambidextrous made her only more invaluable in this regard as a sexy-time partner, manually giving a playmate an orgasmic thrill with either hand. It came in very handy, as she did not necessarily have to shift to a specific side of Rachel to tantalize her with her fingers. In this case, like many, it had been her left side. In other cases it was the right.

Once the g-spot was brought into play along with the vaginal digit penetration and the glossal clit twanging—presuming Holly timed everything right, at which she had become pretty proficient—it wouldn't be too much longer. She had to really concentrate and hold onto her, now that she had Rachel just about thrashing the bed. Her hands and jaws were tiring, but she wouldn't let them rest until the deed was done.

The situation happening inside Rachel's brain was no longer describable in words. She felt like a caged tiger that was growing larger and larger, and about to burst out and be released from its very tight enclosure. That was her favorite simile for coming. Another couple of seconds, and she could break free from these shackles of confinement, let loose to magnificently soar through the open atmosphere...just like the tiger. Almost there, thought the part of her mind that could still form coherent words, Almosttherealmosttherealmosttherealmosttherealmostthere... She strained every part of her body, unable to take it any longer.

And at long last, kaboom! She came. OH, she came. It was beautiful. The tiger exploded out of the cage. Any vestige of sanity left to be found was crushed to smithereens. She was on a shooting star, which rocketed her through the gateways to each wave of dizzying happiness that washed over her. The last remnants of her voice were utterly demolished by the primal, glass-shattering screams shooting out of her. No longer able to produce sound from her vocal chords, she silently chanted, "Fuck!...Fuck!...FUCK!...FUCK! FUUUUUCCCK!!" It was a bit unfortunate that Holly was not fully rewarded with hearing this appreciation. Still, she got the idea. Seven more seconds passed, and the balloon finally deflated. And down with the shooting star she spiraled, back to Earth.

A now tuckered-out herself Holly Greentree rose from her position betwixt her love's legs. She slicked Rachel's love cream off her fingers, slowly, to savor them. She smiled with pride, love and adoration at her now blissfully sated sleeping angel in her bed, lost in her afterglow. She truly was an angel. A heavenly body, radiating pure revelment. And she belonged to Holly and only Holly.

Holly gingerly took the cuffs off her hands and feet and put them away, slipped open the door (lest Hobbie should want in and otherwise wake them up with his meowing), gently climbed back up on top of her again, the side of her on which her face had ended up, draped her arms around her, cuddled up good and close, kissed her nose, and whispered, "I love you too, honey."

And after a tiring week of work, she let everything in her mind and body relax and snuggled in with her beautiful girlfriend, both in their lovely naked splendor, for a long, peaceful nap.

***

May 31st, 12:42 a.m.

Holly's tummy was rumbling. She had finally got hungry enough to need something to eat. She woke up, blinked open her eyes, and noticed her lovemate wasn't in the bed anymore. She got herself up, yawned, stretched, retrieved a nightgown from the closet and slipped it on, stumbled slowly down the hallway, steadying herself with the wall, flipped on the kitchen light, squinted in response to the sudden brightness, let her eyes adjust and started looking around for something quick and simple to whip herself up.

Holly looked at the clock. It was already after midnight. She couldn't believe she had been napping so long. She was more wiped than she thought, evidently. The sun had gone completely down about three and a half hours before. Holly looked around the area of her modest-sized house she could see illuminated by the kitchen light. She took it in contentedly, so happy about everything that she hardly noticed her stomach's continued requests for nourishment. She started putting together a Skippy and Smucker's sandwich, thinking about this stage of her life. It almost seemed...perfect. As if nothing could take away her joy right now. Every aspect—her home, her career, her health, her friends...the delight she found in every single thing—and all of it amplified, tenfold...by Rachel.

She munched down the PB&J sandwich relatively quickly, deposited the plate in the dishwasher, turned off the kitchen light and began ambling back towards the bedroom. But on the way, she passed the bathroom, and heard something that caught her attention.

She looked down. The bathroom light was off. But she could have sworn she heard...

It couldn't have been Hobbie; the door was shut. A moment later she heard it again more clearly. It was Rachel. Was she...crying?

Now a bit concerned, she leaned a little closer to the door. A few more weepy sounds escaped. She was, Holly realized. Her girlfriend was crying in the bathroom. And it didn't sound in the least like happy crying. These were not tears of joy.

Oh gosh, what happened? wondered Holly, who was feeling right up until then like everything was fantastic. She lightly knocked on the door. "...Sweetie?" she called. "You okay?"

The sobbing sound suddenly cut off. Holly didn't hear an answer.

"Babe?" she called again, feeling more uneasy, with another couple faint knocks. "What's wrong? Rache, sweetheart, talk to me."

Suddenly, Rachel's voice came sharply from the bathroom.

"I-I'm fine, Holly. Never mind."

A feeling of worry settled over Holly. She suddenly felt a little frightened. Obviously, she was not fine if she was sitting in the bathroom crying, with the lights out, and wouldn't tell her why. Apparently, she did not want Holly to hear her. She silently tried the doorknob. It wasn't locked.

"Rachel, I'm coming in."

She entered and flipped on the light. She looked down to see her girlfriend, sitting naked on a towel on the bath mat, damp and shivering, in tears, her right hand tightly covering her left upper arm. Rachel looked back up at her, her blue eyes turning red around the corners. "I thought I locked it," she murmured, lowering her gaze again.

Holly gasped. "Baby!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees. "My God, are you all right? What the hell is going on??"

Rachel shut her draining eyes in despair. She shook her head in response to the first question.

Holly wrapped her arms around her. "What? Honey, what? Tell me what's the matter!"

Rachel just cried. Holly was about to ask her again, when she noticed something behind Rachel's body. She leaned her head behind her to see. It was peroxide. And a...trace of something...red on the bottle?

Now very alarmed, Holly asked, "Honey...what exactly are you doing with the peroxide?"

Rachel started crying harder, squeezing her right hand even tighter on her left arm.

"Okay, Rachel, you're really starting to scare me now," said Holly, releasing her grip on her and looking her in the face. "Come on, pull it together, hon. Talk to me."

Rachel looked up at her. She knew it was going to lead to trouble, but she also knew she couldn't hide it. She sat up, slowly removed her blood-stained right hand and said, "Someone attacked me."

Her left upper arm was lacerated with a two-inch long, centimeter-deep knife wound.

Holly's face filled with horror. "NO!" she screamed. "Oh my GOD!!" She screamed again. It became clearer to her now what had happened. She must have come home, showered herself clean as possible and applied the peroxide. For a moment, she couldn't form words. She started quivering right along with Rachel. "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod..." she repeated, trying to find cohesive thoughts. When she found them, she demanded to know, "Who did this to you?! Where were you?!"

This was the part Rachel was dreading revealing to her. But she knew Holly wouldn't let her withhold the information. "I-I-I was-...um..." she sobbed, "...in...H-Hemdale...d-down the street from that...um...Twilight...club place."

HOLY sh—! thought Holly. "What the f—...Rachel, that's a terrible part of town! What the hell were you doing there?!"

Rachel shut her eyes and resumed crying.

"Did you call the police?"

Rachel opened her eyes. Desperate to avoid the previous question, she answered this one and said, "...She took my phone."

Holly's eyebrows jumped. "Hold on a second. This...was a she...and it was right down the street from The Twilight?" her voice rose.

Rachel nodded. "Uh-huh. Took my money and my purse too."

UH-oh... "Did you...get a good look at her? What did she look like?"

"Well, I think it was a girl," wept Rachel. "It had a...some kind of scary horror mask on. It was in the 7-11 parking lot. Just someone with really dark black hair and a knife. I don't think it could have been more than 20 years old."

Oh. Okay, Holly thought, relaxing just a single ounce. "All right...did you go to the hospital?"

Rachel looked up at her again. "It's closed."

"Wh-...Rache, what are you talki—the hospital never closes!" said Holly.

"But it was!" said Rachel. "Right there on Cherrywood Street! It was all dark and locked up!"

"Oh—!" Holly forced her eyes not to roll. "Rachel, that's an office building! The hospital is on Berrywood Street!"

Rachel looked back down. "Oh," she sobbed.

Holly sighed. "Okay...put the peroxide on your arm?"

"Yes."

Holly stood up. "A'right, g—" She stopped. Something clicked. "Wait a second..." she said, turning back to her. "7-11?"

Rachel dropped her head and started crying again. Here it came, the axe was about to fall on her. Holly continued. "There are a HUNDred 7-11s! What were you doing at the UNsafest one there is, downtown, seventeen miles away??" Rachel just wept louder.

"Rachel, answer me. Why were you there?"

She looked up at her. She knew now she was metaphorically dead, but she answered. "It's the only one that still carries my cigarettes." Right after the last word, she knew she couldn't look at Holly. She immediately dropped her eyes and continued crying.