Paige-ing Rachel Ch. 02: Pulled Back In

Hello again my lovelies! Thank you all so much for the wonderful kind words and feedback about chapter 1 of this series. I finally was able to find the time and mental bandwidth to write a chapter 2 that hopefully lives up to the standard set by chapter 1!

A bit of a fair warning that this is more of a slow burn than the first chapter, as we get to see more of Rachel's life after her encounter with Paige and how it has affected her. Not to worry, once Paige shows back up, stuff gets real dirty and nasty quickly.

I really had a great time writing chapter 2 during what has been a rather tumultuous time in my personal life, so I do hope you will have a great time reading it as well.

As always, comments and direct feedback are much appreciated!

Thanks again to all my readers. Enjoy!

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"Hey Rach, think you could wake up and hand me that dropper so we can get this done with before class is over or what?" The words of Rachel's friend and lab partner, Melanie Thompson, broke the eighteen-year-old soccer captain out of her daze and brought her back to her third-period chemistry lab.

"Sorry, yeah. Here, Mel." Rachel said, handing her friend the plastic dropper she'd been idly running her fingertips over while her mind wandered. Mel had noticed the change in her friend and felt like it was even reflected in what Rachel wore. Where usually Rachel leaned slightly on the tomboy side, dressing more for the comfort-over-style vibe, team jerseys and track pants and the like, lately she'd seemed to be wearing tighter, more figure-hugging and feminine clothes.

Mel noted that Rachel's outfit today was certainly in this new vein. Her friend had on a black, thermal long-sleeve top that clung to her athletic figure and a short denim skirt that left her toned legs bare. The tight black top hugged every curve of her athletic figure, emphasizing the three-season athlete's toned arms and midsection. The black color contrasted against her bronzed skin. The short denim skirt showed off her muscular legs, the fabric clinging to them as if painted on.

Melanie gave her friend a concerned look. "Girl, I don't know what's up with you lately but it's like you're barely here sometimes. You sure everything's okay?"

Rachel forced a smile. "Mhmm, just Gucci. It's only that pre-senioritis syndrome. I got like two apps left and by next month I'll be sitting pretty."

"Uh huh." Mel said skeptically, using the dropper to drip three small drops of a clear liquid into the milky solution in the beaker before them.

"Seriously. I'm fine, just focusing on getting the last apps in." Rachel said with just a tad more urgency than she'd meant. Mel, who'd known her since she was eleven, wasn't buying it and raised her eyebrow as she stirred the solution in the beaker.

Gosh, Mel was so sexy when she put on that skeptical "don't bullshit me" look, Rachel couldn't help but think suddenly. Just as Mel dropped her gaze from Rachel to the beaker, Rachel ran her eyes up and down her sarcastic friend's shapely figure.

Mel's dirty blonde hair was tied back in a practical ponytail that swayed with every meticulous stirring motion she made. Her strawberry blonde strands were like spun gold under the fluorescent lab lights, catching Rachel's eye each time they flickered with even the slightest motion. Melanie's face, a canvas of fair skin sprinkled with a constellation of freckles, displayed her concentration. Her cheeks were naturally rosy, giving her an air of vitality and warmth, and when she bit her lower lip in focus, it drew Rachel's attention to their pink fullness.

That wasn't all that had very recently began captivating Rachel. This day, Melanie wore a simple white fitted t-shirt that hugged her upper body in all the right places, outlining her shapely feminine frame. The shirt dipped slightly at the neckline, revealing just a hint of collarbone and the slightest suggestion of cleavage, which was enough to set Rachel's heart racing without reason--or perhaps with reasons she wasn't prepared to admit. Below the t-shirt, Melanie donned a pair of dark-wash denim jeans that sculpted to her hips and thighs like a second skin before tapering down to her ankles. It was an everyday outfit, but on Melanie, it seemed extraordinary to Rachel as she drank in her friend.

She was glad her friend was looking down at the beaker because she felt her cheeks go flush. She'd always been able to see that Mel was a very pretty girl, but lately, Rachel had been struck with a different notion, that her dirty blonde haired friend of almost a decade was "attractive." Try as she did to deny it, she'd been finding herself drawn to Mel and other pretty women in her orbit more and more since what had happened after that game against Glenwood over a month ago.

Rachel's eyes were fixed on the swell of Melanie's chest as her friend leaned over to stir the beaker. Almost instantly she felt a pang of guilt and looked away. This wasn't how she should be looking, thinking about her childhood friend. These thoughts were reminiscent of the creepy boys in freshman year who would ogle any girl dressed in any way that suggested they HAD a figure. She chided herself for lingering on her trusting friend's body and objectifying her as she had.

"Alright, nearly there it looks like, then we just gotta pour the sample and it's lunchtime." Mel was saying into the beaker. "Can you give me the capped test tube for the sample, Rach?"

"Mhmm" Said Rachel quickly, to show her friend she was fully focused again. She turned from Mel at the beaker over to the rack with the test tubes and grabbed one.

When Rachel rotated back towards her friend, Mel was leaning much further down to get a better view of what was happening in the beaker. This had caused Mel's shirt to hang slack and open, revealing her full cleavage and a hint of the sky-blue bra she wore to Rachel. Rachel's eyes went wide and she let out a soft gasp at the alluring sight of her friend's perfectly round and perky breasts hanging before her.

Glass shattering on the floor directly next to Rachel jolted her from her leering stupor. She looked at her feet to see that she had dropped the test tube while staring at her friend's breasts, causing it to break all over the floor and the tops of her shoes. The varsity soccer captain's face went completely crimson as she was utterly mortified. She'd broken class equipment because she'd been drooling over her friend's tits?!

"Shit! Fuck omigod I'm so sorry!" She started stammering, reaching down for the glass with her bare hand.

"Rachel what are you doing?! It's fine!" Mel said, coming around the table to crouch in front of her friend. Mel grabbed at Rachel's hands before they could reach the sharp shards at her feet. Rachel's gaze went from the glass back to her friend's face and then down to her chest once more. The way that Mel crouched below her, Rachel could once again see all the way down her friend's shirt!

"Sorry, so sorry." Rachel sputtered, quickly gathering her things and sprinting to the door with her bookbag clutched to her chest. The bell was set to ring in less than five minutes, which was the only reason her teacher didn't stop her as she ran out of the stunned classroom.

Once in the hallway, Rachel stormed towards the bathroom, desperate for a moment alone to collect herself. It wasn't just the fact that she'd caused such a ruckus by dropping a test tube while checking out her friend's chest. If it was just that simple she could have laughed it off, likely with Mel herself! No, it was so much worse because Rachel knew that this was just the latest culmination of craziness and out-of-sorts feelings that had plagued her since that bizarre night in the bowels of Glenwood High with that bitch Paige!

Ugh, even just thinking her name made her feel conflicted inside to the point she felt almost torn in two. Part of her never wanted to hear from Paige again, relieved at the radio silence after how she had violated her boundaries and body so totally. Another side of her felt offended at worst and curious at best as to why the older woman hadn't been in contact after what they'd shared. Had she really not been good enough? She'd met Paige's challenge and by the end was actively participating willingly. Was that really worth nothing to the woman who had taken such glee in violating her so?

She couldn't deny the bizarre yet warm connection she felt with the woman who had trespassed her personal space, both inside and out, so brazenly. Despite the uncomfortable beginning, Rachel admitted that by the end of their encounter, she'd actually kind of enjoyed herself, even having fun beneath the bleachers in spite of how wrong she had known it all to be. It was by far the most unique experience of her life and the taboo alienness of it all added to the perverse appeal. When she was honest with herself deep down, she had had to admit that for how much she had hated, truly hated how Paige had first violated her, there had been moments and things about the way Paige had treated her that night that had actually made her feel seen and validated like she never had before. That this woman had done THAT to her made her feel very special in the grossest way but she couldn't deny that it was a positive notion in her mind. And then there was that kiss, unlike any she'd had with any boy...

As Rachel entered the bathroom and locked herself in a stall, she wrestled with whatever was happening in her mind. She had always thought of herself as straight, but ever since Paige, she found herself drawn to her female friends' bodies. She'd catch herself walking behind a shapely girl in the halls, eyes lingering on the curve of an ass or a set of thick thighs. Her mind would wander, thinking about what it would look like bare, if it could take something up it the way she had. Did she want to know what it would be like to put something up one of them the way Paige had done to her? It was hard to put into words or articulate thoughts, but the new sensations and ideas of what could be done with those parts of her body had opened an entirely new track of thinking for the high school senior, and without any contact from Paige, Rachel felt she was left twisting in the wind with these new ideas and no sense of what to do with them. It was the most out of control she'd ever felt about herself and she certainly didn't love that. How could one incident with Paige have such an effect on her and why couldn't she just force-of-will it away like she always did?!

Rachel sat in that stall awash in her confusing mix of arousal, desperation and vulnerability. All she wanted was to turn back time and erase the memory of Paige entering her life and her rear. The dull ache that would bloom up within her whenever she tensed those muscles served as the most persistent reminder that there was no undoing it, no escaping the reality that it HAD happened. She knew she had to confront these unsettling emotions, but the thought alone made her heart race with conflicting thoughts, plus that bitch hadn't even gotten back in touch with her. What was she supposed to do?!

Rachel emerged from the stall at the sound of the next bell. She was stoic and quiet throughout her next four classes, determined to not draw any further attention after making such a fool of herself in Chem.

Art class was Rachel's final class of the day and the one she'd been looking most forward to. By the time it had rolled around, she'd managed to collect herself from the incident in the chem lab and assured the teacher, her class advisor, and Mel that she was indeed fine. She'd been convincing enough that they'd believed her and left her alone. Maybe she should have gone out for the school play after all.

The afternoon sun streamed through the art studio windows, casting a warm glow on the paint-splattered tables and easels. Rachel stood at her workstation, staring intently at her nearly-finished piece. It was a mixed-media collage painting that represented her growth throughout high school. Technically, it was far from the most polished in the classroom, but it was an art piece you could take one look at and know it was personal to the artist. Rachel had indeed poured her heart into it, with the imagery displayed eliciting a vulnerability and openness that was rare from a high schooler.

"This is my last four years at this place on a canvas." Rachel had told the art teacher, Ms. Daniels, a few weeks ago when it had really started to come together. Ms. Daniels had been impressed and implored Rachel to offer it as a featured piece for the annual senior gift silent auction fundraiser.

Today was the last art class before the silent auction that would be held this upcoming Sunday. The entry lobby and main hall of the school would be turned into an art gallery and all of the parents and donors to the school would come to enjoy the pieces by the outgoing senior class. The seniors were expected to stand by their pieces and explain their processes while also pitching for bids to drum up more funds. This money would go to a gift of a donation in the name of the graduating class. Most often, the parents would bid on their children's pieces and it was a rare occurrence that a piece that was "bought" would actually go home with someone other than the artist. It was all about the gesture and ritual as a way for the graduating class to honor the school and be celebrated by the community before they left for greener pastures. That Ms. Daniels had pointed out Rachel's piece as a piece with some high bid potential had really excited her given how personal it was.

As such, Rachel was hard at work with the finishing touches on her piece. She was feeling the pressure but was also relishing having something tangible to focus on instead of her bizarrely sexual intrusive thoughts. Having hit her groove and found her perfectionist streak once more, Rachel had been laser-focused all class and had now lost all track of time.

Ms. Daniels announced the five-minute warning, telling the class to finalize their works and prep them for display. Rachel hadn't heard any of this and was still painting one last piece on her collage.

"Hey, Silverstein? Hear me?" Ms. Daniels chided from across the room. When Rachel didn't look up from her easel, Ms. Daniels approached her.

Ms. Daniels was an imposing figure, towering over most of the students at six feet tall when she wore her signature high-heeled boots. Her body was curvaceous and confident, filling out her signature dark-colored jumpsuits, and although she was in her forties, she was widely adored by many students for her effusive energy and her futuristic approach to teaching art.

Her hair was just as feisty as her persona, jet-black and always pulled back in a spikey ponytail. Her green eyes were icy and piercing, with an intensity that you didn't want to be on the receiving end of, which Rachel was now.

The loud clicking of Ms. Daniels' boots stomping across the room finally pulled Rachel's focus from her piece. She looked up as her intense art teacher seemed to be barrelling towards her and almost let out a shriek as it looked to her for a split second that it was Paige herself. She blinked and saw it was indeed her art teacher and went flush in the face.

The usually gregarious and outspoken senior seemed to cower and shrink as her art teacher got to her table. Ms. Daniels had been about to admonish the senior, one of her favorites in the class, when she saw the sudden fearful reaction and her face softened. The usually loud, verbose and confident girl was looking at her with a look that could only be described as...submissive.

Ms. Daniels reached a paint-speckled hand out for Rachel and Rachel surprised them both by flinching at it.

"Hey, Silverstein, you got five minutes, okay?" Ms. Daniels said in her softest tone. It wasn't lost on Rachel that the beloved, brash art teacher was now treating her with kid gloves and she hated it. Rachel blushed again and she couldn't help but run her eyes over her art teacher's voluptuous figure, which was just barely concealed by the dark green jumpsuit she had on.

"Right...sorry Ms. Daniels. I'll be done by the bell." Rachel managed to squeak out.

"Uh...that'll be fine." Ms. Daniels said, taking a hard look at the senior as if trying to tell if something was wrong or she was just being a teenager.

Rachel gulped and forced a smile onto her strained face. "Cool, thanks Ms. D, I can't wait for Sunday!"

Dealing with the constant ups and downs of teenage life is tough enough to handle on its own, but Rachel also had to battle with intrusive memories and thoughts about being taken anally by a stranger of the same gender. The mental strain had started to take its toll and this was no more apparent than during her soccer practice after school that day. All of her aggression and gamesmanship seemed to be lacking along with her focus, and the coach had actually benched her before the practice scrimmage had ended, much to her humiliation. With one game left in the season and potential college scouts watching, this was terrible timing, but Rachel couldn't deny her performance had definitely been dipping, if only she could tell anyone why.

After practice, the team found itself in the locker room, cleaning up in the hot, steamy shower area as they always did. Rachel had always enjoyed the warm humid atmosphere of a post-practice locker room. Without a game's results to react to, the tone was always casual and friendly as the girls washed themselves and changed. Nudity abounded of course, but because of the team's bond and the fact that they were all women, it was barely acknowledged or thought of, or so it had previously been for Rachel. As she peeled off her sweaty clothes and wrapped herself in a towel, she couldn't help but notice the bodies of her teammates in a way she hadn't before.

"Hey, Rachel!" called out Jenna, one of her closest friends on the team. "Wanna grab pizza after we're done here?"

Rachel looked to her friend by her locker. The mocha-skinned beauty was just in her sweat-soaked spandex athletic panties and was pulling her sports bra off, revealing her round, perky breasts as she asked about the pizza.

"Uh, no thanks," Rachel stammered, her eyes watching Jenna's breasts jiggle before she looked lower down to Jenna's strong thighs and the smooth curve of her hips. She quickly looked away, feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I have some stuff to do at home."

"Alright, suit yourself," Jenna replied with a shrug, turning back to her conversation with another teammate as she continued undressing.

Rachel rushed through her shower, trying to keep her mind focused on anything but the beautiful shapes and forms of her teammates. She would steal furtive glances across the steamy shower area as the curiosity over which ones shaved and which didn't would overcome her. Getting a glimpse that confirmed or denied her suspicions only served to further embarrass and guilt her internally. When she finished, she hurriedly changed into her street clothes, barely saying a word to anyone. Her usual boastful, playful demeanor in the locker room was gone, replaced by a quiet and guarded version of herself. The other girls noticed the change, exchanging curious glances but they knew Rachel, or thought they did, well enough to not challenge her.

Sunday morning, Rachel had barely slept the night before. She was excited for the silent auction fundraising event this afternoon. She couldn't wait to get to show her piece, explain it, and by extension herself, to all of the attendees. The competitive side of her had come back and she was determined to have her piece get the highest bids. This was how she was going to sort herself out, she thought.

She stood in front of her bedroom mirror, admiring the way the lace-trimmed white bra and panties clung to her curvaceous, muscular body. The light fabric hugged her figure in all the right places, emphasizing her feminine curves over her strong muscles. She incidentally, had purchased this set after the Paige incident, and although she had always been drawn to more comfortable and functional clothing, she couldn't deny she liked the feeling of "girlishness" that came with wearing them under her clothes.