The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 41

At the christening, Levant was speaking, "People say to me, 'Governor Levant, when are you going to run for president?' I tell them I'm in charge of the greatest state in the country, in the world. You know, California is the world's fourth-largest economy. Really fourth. If this great land became its own country, we would be the fourth-largest in the world. We subsidize the rest of this country. They live off us. You have to ask yourself, what would happen if we kept our money to ourselves? What would happen if we stopped all that money from going out? What if we didn't have to pay for an elaborate, highly bureaucratic elite in Washington? I mean, what do they do anyway? What do we get from them except more tax bills and more red tape? Imagine what would happen to our economy if we freed ourselves from the shackles of the federal bureaucrats. People say, 'Don't you want to run for that?' I say, yeah, I could do, but only because I would like to fix what they have there. It's a mess. Personally, I think we should elect a committee to consider the undoubted benefits of California's independence."

Rachel sat back and read the original message that appeared on the teleprompters. Sometimes he would skip sentences and stop making sense. He had been talking up an independent California for some time now. It was hard to tell what was bullshit and what was his actual thinking. It was something that had polled well during the election. Levant might have been a brilliant businessman, but politics was so much different from what he expected. He was struggling, out of his depth, but he didn't know or understand or possibly admit it. This independent California had started out as a way to get his economic mistakes ignored. His banning of wind and solar had ended up causing power brown outs. He would drag it out, blaming the other states, the Federal system, and even the remaining wind and solar farms, for causing the problems.

During this Beth was asleep, and all Rachel could think about was how he was talking about the dissolution of America. What people didn't realize was that he could probably do it.

For some reason, Levant had insisted on having a special German-style sausage for the starter. Rachel wondered if this was another of Samsa's artisan, hand-reared pork creations. Levant, Reverend Fitts, his mother, his sisters, and a few others sat at the top table. The baby was next to Rachel, creating a welcome gap between herself and Reverend Fitts. Levant sat next to her.

Rachel tasted some; it was quite spicy, quite salty. She didn't want any more.

"I'm changing your designer," Levant said after finishing a conversation with the oil magnate to his right.

Rachel looked over. "Samantha? Don't be ridiculous, everyone knows I wear her stuff. Did you see the spread in the most recent Vogue about her?"

Levant leaned over and spoke quietly, "I've been shown evidence that you've been sleeping with that blonde dressmaker whore again. You're married and a mother now. I thought we had agreed on monogamy from now on. So, I'm giving you a choice. That sausage before you has been made from special m..m..meat. Yours came from a tank where it's been sitting for a few months."

"You fucking didn't," Rachel said looking down, feeling almost sick.

"Your whore friend also is down for a special sausage. If she eats eat she will be very ill. very ill indeed. She went for the vegetarian option. This way she makes sure she eats the sausage with her name on it. Maybe it might not agree with her. Just like Bunny. Or you can agree to keep your hands to yourself and eat the sausage,."

"You wouldn't," Rachel said, her voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and concern, as she gazed into Levant's eyes. The intensity of his gaze revealed that he wasn't merely uttering words, but genuinely meant every bit of it. His eyes held a determined glint that sent a shiver down her spine, conveying an unspoken depth to his intentions.

"You forget I'm the governor with the highest poll ratings in the history of C..C..California. They call me the teflon man. Nothing sticks. I can do anything I like. I can say what I like. The prince didn't like a dissident journalist who was living in exile here. Then the journalist walked in the consulate and wasn't seen again. Some journalist claimed they flushed the body down the drain with acid. By the way, the team responsible is still here with full diplomatic immunity. Now... If your whore was a man, I would have beaten him to a pulp and then shot him with a gun. No one sleeps with my woman except me. No. So, look at it like this: once something has gone through the sausage grinder, there is no going back. So, your only question is, will you do penance and make amends, or will I have to remove the distraction permanently?"

Rachel looked up and saw Samantha at a remote table. She was chatting animatedly with the people at the there. Rachel looked at the plate.

"You swear on the life of your first child you will let her live?" Rachel said. Levant had actually bonded quite well with Beth. He had been quite a loving dad.

"So are you?" Levant said, looking at the plate. "Don't worry, it's cooked. Just eat it."

"Please don't make me do this," Rachel said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I promise I'll never touch anyone again."

"You have to learn the consequences of your actions, Cinnamon. I don't like doing this as much as you do, but you just don't learn. I've got to get through that pretty little head of yours," Levant said. "Just one little mouthful."

"Please," Rachel said, nearly on the verge of tears. "I'll be a good girl. It won't happen anymore, I promise."

"Do you know how hurtful it was, knowing you've done it with another woman?" Levant said. "Felt kind of worse than a man. Do you know how much you truly upset me? NOW EAT!"

"Please, Douglas," Rachel said. She noticed that Samatha was being served with her dish.
"Your running out of time." Levant said.
Samantha smiled and got ready to eat with everyone else.

Levant looked at Rachel. She knew that look. That look happened just before he had punched her once.

"Oh shit," Rachel said. She picked up the fork and opened her mouth.
Levant nodded and the dark tall military looking waiter nodded back and then accidentally knocked Samantha's plate on the floor.

"Oh yeah. By the way, I want you to start wearing a stomach band," Levant said. "Number two is on its way."

"Oh dear god," Rachel said holding her fork.

****************
A final good bye

"Rachel? It's me, Samantha. Are you OK?" Samantha shouted over the bathroom stall a little later.

The sound of Rachel's vomiting came from the other side.
Samantha turned to the waitress who had brought her, "It's OK. Thanks for telling me."

The waitress ran off.

"Rachel, it's me Sam, let me in," Samantha said slapping the door.
The stall door opened and Samantha could see Rachel looking like a complete mess. Rachel's mouth was covered in yellow sticky flakes.
"Poor you," Samantha said, coming in. She got down on her knees.

"I don't know about you, but the vegetarian sausage was very salty. I'm thinking it was that," Samantha said. "I nearly eat the wrong one. They made a mistake and gave me the wrong kind to begin with."

Rachel wondered if she should tell Samantha about the sausage she had. She felt like she was in that saddle point between bouts.

"The sausage was made from my..." Rachel began, then paused, the weight of her words hanging in the air. "I'm not going back to being Denver now."

Samantha's face dropped, a mixture of shock and distress crossing her features.

"Shit. God... Oh... God... no," she exclaimed, her hand instinctively flying to her mouth, the other reaching out to touch Rachel for reassurance.

"He made you eat it?" Samantha questioned, her voice laced with disbelief and a hint of anger. "God. How sick can you get?"

"He made me," Rachel replied, her voice carrying a heavy burden of resignation.
"He said if I didn't, he would kill you. You were seconds away from fatal food poisoning. It was either eat it or watch you leave on a gurney."

Rachel put her head over the bowl and held her hand up.
"I'm so sorry," Samantha said. "You must be... I don't know..."

Feeling better, Rachel slumped down to the floor and let out a weak smile. "You know what... if I'm being honest, it was like when you split up with Kitty. I kind of didn't feel anything... I felt something different," Rachel said and paused. "I think I knew in the back of my head. I kind of guessed I was never going back. He has Beth; I looked it up, it's not common to do IVFs with just one. I think... I think Beth has a sister somewhere, possibly more than one. He told me he was going to farm Beth out to foster parents. He told me this whole story of how he was going to wait eighteen years then...."

The tension had been building to this point, and Rachel vomited again.

"Shit, Rachel," Samantha said, getting something else for Rachel to wipe her mouth with. "You've got to go to the police with this..."

"How, Sam? How? The chief of police is out there. We've had dinner with six senior judges. Hunter and the fucking FBI tried to get him, and look what happened. He can bind them in red tape. He has the power, he's the governor now. But that's not what I wanted to say," Rachel said.

She slumped back into the cubicle.

"I don't think I was going back to being Denver. I think in the back of my head, I guessed it would be too late, you know... but I was really happy being Rachel. I was really happy being with you," Rachel said.

It was Samantha's turn to lean back against the wall.

"So you're not just visiting anymore?" Samantha said.

Rachel tried to relax the Celtic knot in her stomach. "No, I stopped being a tourist. I've emigrated. I've burnt my passport for good. This is the point where you tell me you were looking forward to having my dick, and I kill myself shouting, 'No. No, no.'"

Samantha half-laughed and half-cried, saying, "No, you're good there. You're good there," as she reached out and held Rachel's cold hand. Rachel slumped forward.

"That's what makes this the worst thing," she managed to say, her chest heaving with emotion. "Levant told me never to see you again. He made it plain what would happen if I did. Your dress design services are no longer needed."

With that, Rachel threw up again, her body convulsing. Samantha held her hair back and rubbed her back, providing comfort amidst the distressing situation. There was a point when Rachel thought she might die, choking on her own vomit, but finally, the moment passed.

"I'm OK. I'm OK," Rachel said, sitting back as Samantha gently wiped her face clean. "I think that was the last of it. It's all gone."

Rachel sat on the cold tile floor, feeling a profound void within her. Just at that point, there was a knock at the women's door. It was Lucy.

"Is everything okay, Mrs. Levant?" Lucy asked.

"Yeah, well, no," Samantha said. "Something Rachel ate didn't agree with her. She's okay, she just needs to rest for a minute. We need to get Rachel to the bridal suite to clean up."

"Should I call an ambulance?" Lucy inquired.

"No," Samantha responded firmly. "She has a sensitive stomach. The sausage had too much salt. She just needs to lay down for a bit, then she will be fine. Can you help us get her to her suite to help her rest?"
"Yes give me a minute" Lucy said and her high heels clicked on the floor tiles as she walked away.

Rachel sat motionless and looked at the yellow mess in the bowl before her.
"Good bye Denver," she said, pressing the flush.

They found a wheelchair to push her in. Soon, Samantha had Rachel outside the door, but they could only open one of the double doors, and it wasn't wide enough for the chair.

"Don't worry," Rachel said. Samantha helped Rachel stand up, then suddenly picked her up and carried her into the master bedroom of the bridal suite where Rachel and Levant were staying.

"You're not as heavy as you think you are," Samantha said while carrying Rachel. She wasn't a tall woman, and Rachel was surprised at how easily Samantha had managed it. Samantha walked over to the bed and gently placed Rachel down.

Lucy came in. "What should I tell the Governor?"

Rachel sat against the soft, cool bed and spoke with her eyes closed. "Tell him I'm OK. I'll be down in 30 mins."

Samantha started closing the door. "She just needs some rest and fluids. Something upset her stomach." Then the main door was shut, and Samantha locked it, pushing a chair to block it.

"Oh, fuck," Rachel exclaimed, looking at her phone.

"What is it?" Samantha asked, moving the chair and then fetching Rachel a large glass of water along with something to spit into.

Rachel raised her voice, frustration evident. "It's already on Twitter and... yep, the speculation is I'm pregnant again. That's him. It must be."

Samantha returned with a glass of water, and Rachel drank it. "Thanks for looking after me," she said weakly. Rachel said while Samantha placed her hand on Rachel's forehead.

Samantha looked into Rachel's eyes. "Are we ever going to be together again?" she asked, her fingers gently stroking Rachel's forehead.

"One day, maybe," Rachel replied with a hint of sadness. "But I don't want you to wait for me. At least one of us can be happy."

Samantha lay down beside her.
"So if this is the last time we're going to be together, then perhaps we should make it memorable," Samantha suggested with a hint of playfulness.

"I look a mess. How can you love a woman who's just been puking her guts out?" Rachel questioned, her voice tinged with self-doubt.

"Easy, because she's you," Samantha replied softly, her affection evident in her words.

Rachel looked down, a touch of vulnerability in her eyes. "The dress is ruined," she admitted weakly.

Samantha cast an expert eye over it. Within minutes, the dress was carefully taken off, and room service was called to collect the dress for dry cleaning. There was a machine in the basement, and it would be ready in twenty minutes. Rachel was left naked on the bed, wearing only her bra, panties, stockings, and black stiletto pumps.

Samantha looked down at Rachel's crotch and slowly pulled the panties off. "The surgeon did an excellent job; you can hardly see the scars," Samantha remarked, running her hand over Rachel's thigh.

"Don't," Rachel protested, her voice a mixture of caution and worry. "If Levant finds out, he will kill you, literally."

Samantha lay down next to Rachel. "Stop saying that; it's such a huge turn-on," Samantha teased.

Rachel smiled and spoke softly, her gaze meeting Samantha's. "Don't. Your touch would be your last."

Samantha rolled closer, "Then I need to make this worth while. If this is my last time with you then it should be glorious." As she spoke she moved her lips closer to Rachel's.

"My cunt is your poison," Rachel said just before Samantha's lips touched hers. They kissed.

"It always was, but you are so wrong, your cunt is my elixir of life, without it I wither" Samantha said coming up for air.

The continued to kiss more and more passionately. Samantha started to on Rachel's neck electrifying her as she went. It was clear Samantha wouldn't stop and unable to stop her Rachel returned the kiss.

Samantha moved down Rachel's semi naked body pushing aside her bra to kiss her nipples. Rachel's chest heaved with the thought Levant might come knocking at the door Rachel reached out and put her hands around Samatha's back and pulled her closer. Samantha leant over to Rachel's overnight bag she fished around for a second, then pulled out what she wanted. They both began to giggle at the sight of the vibrator. Rachel felt the touch of skin against skin as Samantha began to wield the vibrator near Rachel's hot wet clit.

"Mind if I stamp your passport?" Samantha said, smirking.

"Go ahead. Make me feel like a woman," Rachel said.

Held in her fist Samantha began to push the vibrator up Rachel's open pussy lips. Then Samantha began to caress Rachel's clit while she licked at Rachel's nipples. They writhed together like they were dancing at the club at the end of the universe. Rachel stroked Samantha's naked open chest. Samantha was right, the danger was their Viagra. The finality of it, was a sweet climax of its own. Samantha's smooth and steady build-up had nurtured Rachel's body perfectly to the point of quivering excitement. Samantha rode as she buried into Rachel's welcoming flesh. They knew each other's body so well, breast stroked breast, thigh against thigh, in unison their lungs began to quiver like a butterfly's flapping wings.

Rachel began to play with Samantha's hot clit, as Samantha' pushed deep up into her and started The vibration. Mouth to mouth, breath to breath, hair on face they flickered until their flesh began to sparkle. Rachel felt her orgasm begin to burn within her.

"More" Rachel gasped.

"As you desire," Samantha said. Her hips began to buck as Samantha began to fuck her close to the height of orgasm. Then under Samantha's expert massage, Rachel began to feel the sunlight within her.

"I'm cuming." She gasped.

"Don't hold out on me." Samantha said getting equally close to her own climax.
Who came first they could not tell. It was like taking your lovers hand and laughing runing quickly to the edge of the cliff, the for one blissful moment you felt weightless like an angel. Falling hand in hand before you knew you were going to both hit the water hard. They did and the salty sea water gushed between them. Seconds later they both came up for air.

"Oh shit." Rachel said, gasping for air "that was the best fuck ever."

"Crap" Samantha said almost in tears. "Did you feel me cum? "

Rachel nodded. "You can stamp my passport anytime," she said, her words coming irregularly like cars on a freeway closely passing someone .

They lay there for a moment, arm in arm, perfectly, sensuous hip to sensuous hip, catching their breath. As they recovered, the sense of fear and danger pierced the barrier they had cast around them. "Please," Rachel said, "don't let him find you."

Samantha's watch went off; the alarm was set for when Rachel's wedding dress might be ready. Painfully, with regret pulling at every muscle, Samantha roused herself and got dressed. "How do you feel now?" she asked.

"Fucked" Rachel said, "but in a good way. You sure know the cure for food poisoning."

There was a knock at the door. One of the young housemaids did a speed run to clean Rachel's dress. She had practically sprinted to the door. Samantha accepted the dress while Rachel pulled on what little she had.

Slowly, Samantha helped Rachel into the dress. It was as complex as a spacesuit, rather than keeping space out, it kept Rachel in. The dress smelled clean and fresh, like a New Year's resolution. Rachel sat before the mirror, covered the dress, and began to fix her makeup. She felt she hadn't done a bad job compared to the makeup artist. When done, she added the expensive jewelry and toyed with the idea of saying she had dropped it in the toilet bowl.

She stood up and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She was a woman now and couldn't help feeling anything but good about it. There was no way back to Denver; the bridge between worlds was burnt black, and she had just left with the feeling she was glad she wasn't left on the wrong side.

Under the guise of a crystal healer for Beth, Mom had spoken to Rachel as Rachel more times. Perhaps it was the magical effect of Beth, but she was accepting Rachel for who she was.

Rachel pulled out her phone to check the time. She opened the photos app and scrolled to the first photo of the boy nervously taking a selfie outside the Thornbury Hotel. "Goodbye, Denver," Rachel said, deleting the photo, "it was nice knowing you. But sometimes, sometimes you have to embrace the future."