Twenty Years to Life Ch. 04

Isabel looked on with love. "Stand up," she told Rachel. She walked the girl around to Torrie's back end. Torrie strained her neck but couldn't see what was going on behind her do to the stocks. Her neck and wrists were incredibly sore, but she didn't want to be let go . . . at least not yet.

"You know what you need to do," Isabel whispered into Rachel's ear.

Rachel was suddenly terrified. This was the biggest step of her sexual life. But even if her brain was confused, her body knew what to do. It knelt behind Torrie's helpless body and positioned Rachel's mouth at the entrance to Torrie's paradise. And ever so slowly, she extended her tongue into her friend's sweetness. Then she ran her tongue up the slot. 'This isn't so bad,' she thought. 'Actually . . .' She licked Torrie like she was an ice cream cone, and she actually felt her shudder.

Isabel slowly walked back towards Torrie's head, tracing the girl's spine until she reached the stocks. Then she knelt in front of her lover's face, watching her expressions change as Rachel's pie-eating-cherry was busted. Torrie had gone glassy-eyed, but not so much that she didn't see the incredible woman who had made all this possible. Rachel may have licking pussy for the first time, but it still felt heavenly! Isabel moved in until her lips almost touched Torrie's, but held back just a little. Not waiting for permission from her mistress, Torrie strained to try and get the kiss she so desperately wanted. Isabel smiled and held back just a little while longer. She moved in, but dodged her head to the right and whispered into Torrie's ear.

"I love you," Isabel said. And she meant it. Her girlfriend was secured in stocks, had been sexually manhandled for well over an hour and was getting eaten out by her best friend, but her eyes still gleamed a little brighter when they were focused on Isabel. And when Torrie started to respond, Isabel finally kissed her. The kiss could have lasted for seconds or days . . . neither woman could have said. They only broke because of the moaning coming off from the side.

When Janine and Salsa realized that Rachel no longer needed to be held, they had broken off and locked themselves in a sixty-nine, and they had just brought each other to orgasm. Both of them were covered in sweat, their hair and makeup were a mess, and they both looked incredibly happy to be alive.

Isabel grinned. She turned back and locked lips with Torrie again, just in time for the pink-haired girl to moan into her mouth. She was having an orgasm.

Rachel had never seen a female climax up close and personal before. She had experienced many of them, but hadn't really seen one. It wasn't quite as . . . obvious . . . as she thought it would be. A little bit of trembling, but that was it. Just for the heck of it, she stuck a finger in and felt the power of Torrie's box as it constricted. Rachel was more than a bit impressed that her buddy still had it in her after all she had endured that evening.

Isabel kissed her beautiful slave/girlfriend one more time, then stood up and unlocked the stocks. Torrie needed help from her girlfriend and best friend just to remain standing. Every part of her body was sore and her ass still stung like a son of a bitch. Mr. X's nurse brought down a couple of soft, terrycloth robes for Rachel (whose clothes had been destroyed) and Torrie (whose tender rear-end made wearing her normal tight pants quite out of the question), along with "compliments from the owner" for a wonderful show and a successful auction. The nurse glanced longingly at Rachel's generous tits again, then wandered back up the stairs. The group was silent but content as they made their way out to their cars. Rachel was going to catch a ride home with Salsa and Janine, and Isabel was going to take Torrie home for some much-needed rest. Before they went their separate ways for the night, Torrie and Rachel faced off. Torrie was still struggling to stand on her own, so Rachel reached out and grabbed her friend's shoulders, supporting her like they had done for each other for years. Rachel was a bit freaked out by everything that had happened, but she knew . . . she knew that Torrie was still her best friend. She and Torrie exchanged a powerful hug.

"Take care," Torrie said.

"You too. See you tomorrow?" Rachel asked. She knew that the two of them had some things to discuss.

"I'll be done with class by nine," Torrie said, "and I don't have to work. Come on by," she finished, then Isabel escorted the exhausted girl back to the car.

------------- ---------------------

At Isabel's apartment . . .

------------- ---------------------

Isabel was a nervous wreck. There were already bruises forming around Torrie's neck and wrists, as well as on her buttocks and upper thighs. She realized that it had been Torrie's first time in that kind of situation, and Isabel had let things get out of control. She was putting ice in a compress, getting a bottle of Aleve and a glass of water, and trying about a billion different things to make Torrie comfortable. Her girlfriend was lying face-first on the bed because rolling onto her back was quite painful to the girl.

"Calm down," Torrie said as she amusedly watched Isabel run around like a chicken with its head cut off. "I'm okay," she muttered.

Isabel was going to say something about Torrie speaking to her mistress out of turn, but she nixed the idea. She had been planning on giving the girl the rest of the week off from her "duties" anyway. "I didn't think it would be this bad," she said, looking at the purple marks developing everywhere on Torrie's body. "God, I suck at this," she muttered. She felt like such a horrible dominatrix. She let her charge take more than she should have tried to handle, left her in the stocks too long, and now Isabel was breaking down like a common . . . like a peasant girl.

"No, you don't," Torrie reassured her, breaking again from her role as slave. "We're just working our way through it for the first time, that's all."

"Maybe. But I should've been more careful. And you should've stopped me when things got too much!"

Torrie grinned. "Too much? I was ready for a second auction! I had more and better orgasms than ever before," she said honestly. "And I owe it all to you. Were you in on it? With Rachel I mean?"

Isabel shrugged. "I might have mentioned it to Mr. X at some point, but I left it up to him as to actually making it happen. I was pretty surprised he managed it so quickly!"

Torrie looked at her girlfriend with bemused eyes. "I'm a little surprised," she said. "That you'd let it happen with Rachel. I mean, she actually means something to me."

Isabel smiled. "Wondering if I was jealous? I'm ALWAYS jealous when I let someone else touch you. That's MY part of the torture. But you told me once that you'd always come back to me. I believed you then and I believe you now. Tonight was about your fantasy. Call it arrogance," she said, kissing Torrie on the cheek, "but I think its going to take more than Rachel to take you away from me. She's your friend. I'd like to think I'm a little more than that."

"And you said that you sucked at this," Torrie said happily. She let Isabel feed her a painkiller or three and sipped some water. Then she felt the cold compress being applied to the back of her neck and a cool washcloth being draped over her red posterior. "You're everything to me," she said as Isabel cuddled up next to her.

-------------- --------------

The next day . . .

-------------- --------------

Torrie was lying face-first on the daybed in the safe room while in excruciating agony when Rachel dropped by the next afternoon. She couldn't work up the energy to answer the door, so she just yelled for whomever it was that was knocking to come in.

"Hey toots," Rachel said when she found Torrie's carcass.

"Hey," Torrie said, straining to move her head. Her neck hurt, her wrists hurt, her ass was killing her, her shoulders hurt, and her upper thighs felt like they were made of brick. "I'd get up, but I think that would actually kill me. I actually had to skip class today."

"Don't worry about it," Rachel said, laughing nervously.

"Is that enough small talk?" Torrie asked.

"What do you mean."

"I mean, should we exchange our typical banter for a while, or do you want to just get to the part where we talk about last night?" Torrie smiled. She didn't have the energy for conversational foreplay.

"Am I that obvious?" Rachel asked, pulling up a chair. She grimaced a bit when she saw the bruising on her friend's neck and wrists. Somehow Torrie had managed to squeeze into some incredibly loose fitting shorts, so Rachel could only imagine what that shapely rear-end looked like.

"No, I just figured that since I was nervous about it that you would be too. I sort of get tired of this question after a while, but are you okay?"

Rachel sighed. "Physically, yeah. Spiritually, I'm a little fucked up. Torrie . . . I never thought that would happen. I never imagined being with another chick like that. I never thought . . . Shit, just when I thought I had all my weird impulses under control, I'm getting banged by a club owner while his wife was sitting on my back, then I'm having sex with my best friend, who happens to be a girl."

"It was kind of a slow night, wasn't it?" Torrie said. THAT got a laugh out of Rachel. "Wait, his wife?"

"Yeah, the nurse."

"That's his WIFE?" Torrie was honestly shocked.

"You didn't know?"

"Not really, but that explains why she's around so much," Torrie muttered. "But anyway, I want you know that I'm cool with it. Strangely enough, I'm actually even MORE in love with Isabel because of it." Torrie actually blushed. "When I first realized I was gay . . . it was because I realized that I was attracted . . . to you."

Rachel's eyes shot open. "Get out of here!"

"That would be physically impossible. But it's true. Once I accept that I was gay and that you weren't . . . apparently, at least that you weren't COMPLETELY . . . I moved on. It wasn't until I was going through therapy that it came up again. Not with Mr. X . . . I mean Dr. Smythe . . . but with Isabel. We talked about all our fantasies, past and present, and about all the naughty things we had done. So she knew that once upon a time, I had wanted to do what we wound up doing last night."

"But like I said, I'd never even thought of doin' it with a chick until last night. Then . . . I don't know. It just didn't seem like such a big deal." Rachel leaned back.

"Rachel, you are one of the hottest, most sexually active girls I know. It's okay just to fuck for fun, as long as you understand it for what it is and are honest about it. The sex doesn't make you gay. It's the feelings you have about the person that determine that. And for me, Isabel trusted that my feelings for her were strong enough to let me be with you. That showed REAL power."

Rachel looked amused. "Torrie, I'm NOT worried about being gay. I still LOVE the cock," she said, making Torrie giggle. "But I did notice my own bad self checkin' out some honeys on the way over here and wondering if they was HALF as good as you. I'll have to deal with that shit on my own. The only thing that I'm concerned with is you and me. I don't want to feel weird around you and I don't want you to feel weird around me. I . . . for the first time in my life, I've got NO idea what to do after sex."

"You could try what I do."

"Which is?"

"Just lie around and wait for things to stop hurting."

"That's not what I meant."

Torrie grinned. "I know. Rachel, being with you did mean more to me than being with most of the people that Isabel has 'shared' me with." Even though Rachel knew about what had happened with Jeremy, Torrie thought it prudent not to bring up his name. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to go all mushy-brained about it. I won't say that the idea of . . . you know, being together . . . with you . . . doesn't have some appeal, but only for fun and only if Isabel wanted it. I love her Rachel. I really do. This doesn't change that. The question is, can you still be my friend?"

"Without a doubt," Rachel said, a bit relieved. "You're my girl," Rachel said.

"Word," Torrie responded.

"Girl, stop trying to talk like a black chick," Rachel said exasperatedly as she shook her head.

"I'm black and blue," Torrie pointed out. "Does that count?"

"Not even close," Rachel said. "So, when is the old ball and chain coming back?"

"Isabel's working until about six, then she's going to rent a couple of movies and try and move me out where I can see the television. She's giving me the rest of the week off, so I'm hoping to be up for a visit to the beach by Friday. We'll see how my body is holding up by then. Anyway, you're welcome to stick around," she added.

Rachel looked over her friend. She had only had to work for four hours that morning, so she was free the rest of the day. "Sure, I'll stick around."

"Excellent," Torrie replied, pulling the washcloth out from under her shorts. "Then could you make yourself useful and re-wet this?"

Rachel laughed as she grabbed the cloth by the corners. "Girl, THAT is just nasty."

-------------- ----------

That Friday . . .

-------------- ----------

Jeremy pulled up to Dawn's apartment feeling pretty good about himself. He'd had a good week, and the day had started out pretty well already. He had hung out with a number of top-shelf honeys that morning at the beach, including Torrie, Isabel, Janine, Jessie (whose "stage" name was apparently Salsa), as well as his sister. Rachel had been acting kind of weird. Jeremy just figured she was freaked out because she knew he had engaged in "sexual relations" with her best friend. "Oh well," he said to himself. "She'll have to get over it."

He knocked on the apartment door. Dawn must not have been making much money because her complex was . . . a bit dilapidated. But when she opened the door, her surroundings didn't seem important. She still had on those drab overalls, but there was a tight green shirt on underneath that accentuated her taut physique. And that stocking cap was there again, but it couldn't hide those delightful freckles, brilliant red hair or sparkling green eyes.

"Hey," she said quietly. "I talked with Vic, by the way. I told him about meeting you. He asked if you had figured out how to prevent the ball from smacking you in the face on the snap . . . I'm sure there's a story there."

Jeremy grinned. "I was running the line back in high school during scrimmage. I'd been shit-talking all day. Then on one snap, a couple pretty cheerleaders walked by and I was staring at them, but I forgot to slow the snap count. I got nailed in the face, and the coach made me run a couple laps to 'help me concentrate.' Vic NEVER let me forget it."

Dawn let out a small giggle. Jeremy couldn't put his finger on it, but he just found the girl adorable. She looked up at him. "He's coming out next month for his brother's birthday. Jack's coming with them. Jack's is Vic's boyfriend, by the way. Anyhow, they'll be crashing out here," she said, looking towards her apartment. "He . . . he and his parents don't talk anymore."

Jeremy didn't need to ask why. "I've been hearing that a lot lately. My friend Torrie . . . she's a lesbian . . . her girlfriend just got disowned after telling her parents about . . . well, you know."

Dawn shook her head. "Let's go get dinner before I lose my appetite."

Jeremy took Dawn to his favorite Italian place. It had low lights and usually set the mood for activities afterward, though Jeremy was trying hard not to think about it. He wanted this date to be different.

They started talking about the safe things. Jeremy talked about his football career so far and his studies. He found out that Dawn was a year older than he was and was a graduate student in psychology. She had planned on staying on the east coast at the university where she and Vic had met while doing some charity work one Christmas, but her advisor told her that it looked better on your resume when you get your undergraduate and graduate degrees from different institutions. So she had gotten the University of California at Springfield to waive out of state tuition costs and had skipped across the country.

As she talked, Jeremy sized the girl up. While she seemed oddly comfortable with Jeremy, she got quiet and looked downward whenever another customer or one of the staff wandered by. He mentioned that to her.

"Sorry, I'm . . . I'm not real good with most people. The only reason I can talk to you is 'cause you remind me a lot of Vic and Jack . . . not that I think you're gay or anything . . . just, that kind of confident but good natured thing."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'm not always QUITE so good-natured. Up until recently, I was wanting to kill my best friend."

Dawn scrunched her eyebrows. "Do tell?!?"

Jeremy grinned and then launched into the entire series of events he and his friends had endured in the last six months or so. At first, he wasn't quite sure why. He had barely met this girl. Then he realized that he NEEDED to talk about it. Torrie had Isabel, Rachel (until recently) had counted on Frank, but Jeremy hadn't really had someone he could vent to. And Dawn proved to be a patient listener as he talked about Torrie's illness and recovery, his sister's fall from grace, and he even talked about the "deal" he had made with Torrie and Isabel to help Rachel out.

"God, you must think I'm a total creep," he said at last, breaking a brief silence.

"No . . . no I don't," she said, looking at him thoughtfully. He had been a lot more honest with her than she was used to in men, and that very thing had appeal for her. "It sounds like you were this Torrie chick's friend, and the shit with your sister and that Frank guy was just you being a big brother. The other stuff with Torrie . . . well hell, if I had a cute girl tied up like that, then I might . . ." Dawn stopped and her eyes opened a bit wider. "Uhm . . ."

Jeremy was staring at her. "Wait, are you . . . do you play offense or defense?" he asked.

Dawn was blushing furiously, and her skin was almost as red as her hair. "Uhm, actually I play both sides of the ball."

"Oh . . . really?" he asked with a bit of an exaggerated pseudo-southern drawl. Actually, he had suspected as much after their first conversation. "C'mon, spill! Which do you prefer?"

Dawn buried her face in her napkin so no one could see how bad she was blushing. She finally started to talk, and Jeremy was amazed by what she said. Apparently, she had not only been romantically involved with Vic AND his boyfriend Jack, but there had been another girl by the name of Angela mixed up in the whole thing. From what Jeremy could gather, the entire group had been one big, roaming orgy.

"I . . . I'm not always like that," Dawn said, a bit embarrassed by her confession. "It's just . . . like I said, I'm not good with people so I don't make friends easily. Everyone there was just so . . . decent and honest with me and each other that I felt comfortable just letting loose with them. We all did." She sighed and used her fork to play with her spaghetti. "I think that's why it's been so hard for me out here. I've kind of been afraid that the next person won't be so . . . easy to trust."

Jeremy grabbed her hand. "Well, why don't we see what I can do about that?"

"You so sweet!" she said, smiling as she pinched his cheek, and that got them both laughing.

--------- -------------------

A few hours later . . .

--------- -------------------

Dawn had to admit that she had been having a great time with Jeremy. He was handsome, funny, and surprisingly forthright. But except for the time at the restaurant where he had held her hand, he hadn't made a move all night! When she had been on the East Coast, her friends had made her feel attractive for probably the first time in her life. After a long dry spell, she thought maybe they had been right, particularly when she had a guy like Jeremy asking her out. But had he just been looking for a "friend?"