Chapter 4 — Rescue
Laying on my back, midmorning in Laura’s queen size bed, with my hands clasped behind my head, the sun streaming around the dust motes and my brain floating through the previous night of unbridled passion, I reveled in the luxury of the moment. Two days ago, all life had been rotten. Two days ago I had been a wreck. Now? No problems. My mind was clear and a smooth open road stretched out in front of me. What a wonder!
“Are you awake finally?” I heard from a voice as it ascended the stairs towards the bedroom.
“I thought young men were able to screw all night, then be up before dawn and have the chores completed before breakfast. My assessment indicates only one of those criteria were met.”
As usual I could not think of anything to say, but did manage to raise my eyebrows just as Laura entered the room. She was a vision wearing a nearly sheer black robe tied loosely in front. The sides of her breasts were visible as was her belly button. The robe closed just above her hips.
“Coffee?” She asked. I could smell the mixture of coffee and something toasted.
“Maybe in a second,” I replied. “Come and join me before someone pinches me and I wake up. I have to feel your body against mine.”
“Really, you haven’t had enough?”
“I just need you in here”
“OK Buddy, but you realize there is hot coffee and some yummy bagels with jam on this tray. They won’t be hot long.”
In response, I threw the covers to the bottom of the bed and held out my arms. Shaking her head, Laura placed the tray on the night table and climbed onto the bed, straddling me and sitting so that her vagina pressed into my groin, establishing proof of nakedness under the robe.
I lifted my hands, traced my fingers down both arms, then slowly up the sides of her torso and cupped her breasts in my hands. Laura’s nipples responded and I could feel their hardness on my palms as I softly massaged the firm flesh surrounding them. Unsurprisingly, life arose in my nether region. Trapped by circumstance, this new life began to throb somewhat painfully.
“Ouch, hurting a little. Could you let me up a bit,” I asked?
Without a word Laura lifted her hips, grabbed my penis and unceremoniously inserted it into her vagina, then settled down on top of me again. I – continued to grow inside her.
“Gaawd!” was all I could say, as once again the sensations of my nerve endings in contact with the most holy and heavenly, all encompassing, incomprehensible pleasure surface possible — began the process of conjuring up an appropriate response.
Laura moved her hips side to side and must have clamped down on me somehow before starting slowly up — holding — then sliding down. She repeated the process and I could feel myself close to the brink. Then she stopped.
I started to push up and down vigourously. I needed release.
“No!” she commanded.
“Huh?”
“Lie still.”
With that, she pushed down and stayed down. I could feel slight changes in pressure presumably from some kind of godly female control. Whatever — it slowly worked to reduce the pressure built up in my balls while keeping me hard and as about as horny as I had ever been. Whoooaa!
“Wait.”
Slowly the urgency ebbed. My desire however, did not. I felt like those race horses you see at the track. The ones with the wild eyes, who generally finish well back in the pack having spent their energy in the first couple of furlongs.
“Shhhh,” Laura whispered. “If you are going to become the latin lover I think you can, you will need control, patience, and to pay heed to your partner’s essence.”
Eventually I could feel my muscles relax, gut unclench and mind unreel — focussing back on Laura’s presence and body above mine.
Wouldn’t you know it, she chose that particular moment to begin almost imperceptible movement. Just her vagina was involved at first. Waves of muscle pressure — like “the wave” at a sporting event. You can see and almost feel the crowd as the crescendo builds around the stadium — then it passes over and the pressure is reduced. Squeeze – Up then down — Up *&%$ down.
Then, once again subdued – hip movement. Side to side now, squeeze, no pressure, pressure, si-
…
Gaaaaaahhhh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Ooooooohhhhhh.
I came without warning. No buildup. No clue. Just spasm after spasm. Sperm entering Laura. My sperm entering Laura. Wonder. Awe. Beauty. Wasszat? WTF?
“What just happened,” I asked?
“He He,” replied Laura. “Got some learning yet left in you! Good thing! I’m not ready to turn you over to Becky quite yet!”
“Scuze me?” I managed. “Becky?”
“Of Course,” Laura answered. “She’s the one.”
Consciousness reigned down on me now. What the hell? One minute I’m in heaven. The Next? I can feel my stomach hit, my mind bring down the awful last moment as I left Rick’s. “Ha — Ha — Ha!”
“Fuck me over,” I’m thinking. “I didn’t ask for this. We were — Well, I was, having soo much fun!”
“Why?” spurted out of my mouth.
“She Casibom is your cause right now,” said Laura. “She needs you and there is no one else.”
“Now?”
“Now,” replied Laura. “Well not right now, you’re not dressed. And we’ve some planning to do.”
“Rrrrgh,” says I.
“What do you know of Becky, her family, who she is?” Laura asked as we sat against the headboard and drank lukewarm coffee and ate cold bagels.
“Well, not much,” I said. “It’s strange really, this is a small town and she has been in most of my classes since I was 6.”
“So, let your mind wander. What have you noticed?”
“Well, she is quiet. Has been for awhile. In lab the last couple of years, often she knew the answers but would not volunteer them. If pressed by the teacher, she would answer but always looked at the floor as she did.”
“So, submissive from the start?” asked Laura.
“No, I don’t think it was submission. There was defiance involved. I could see it in her face. It was almost like she didn’t care.”
“So,” Laura countered. “She was submissive at Rick’s, friendly but guarded at the restaurant, defiant but subdued at school. Did she ever get mad?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I seem to remember her getting mad in junior high Don’t know about what. I was into what ever I was doing and wasn’t paying much attention.”
“No, wait a minute! I think the teacher — maybe grade 7 or 8 — had asked Becky to do something and she refused. She just blew up and gave it to him. Weird because he was a good teacher and, from what I remember, a gentle guy.”
“Seeing a pattern here?” asked Laura.
“What do you mean,” I asked?
“I think something traumatic must have happened early in her life. Early on she had the fight, now she doesn’t,” Laura said. “Your teacher wasn’t a big threat, so she could fight back.”
“Do you think there could have been a family problem?”
“What do you mean,” I asked?
“I mean incest.” Laura put forward.
“Really?” I asked.
“Look, she is a sex slave now. That’s not normal and is why it is up to you to do something. You’re the one who brought it to me.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “I feel bad but why is this my problem?” I’m a chickenshit obviously. “And besides, isn’t she damaged goods?” Copout.
Have you ever felt a room get cold. I mean really really cold?
We’re talking about August here. Outside it was like 85 degrees. As far as I know, Laura didn’t have mechanical air conditioning. Apparently though, she had some personal abilities I was not aware of.
Silence prevailed.
“OK ok,” I said. “What do you think we should do?”
“Are you sure you really care?” Laura asked.
“You know how I feel,” I said. “I didn’t want to hurt her so I ran away.”
“Yes, but do you really want to help her? Running away helped you, not her. What do you think happened after you left? By the way — Am I not – “damaged goods?”
Oh crap. Why are people so much smarter than me.
Thinking back on how long I had known Becky, how we had interacted on the playground, so young. Innocents at play, pushing the merry-go-round, not letting her off, her getting mad and hitting me when I finally slowed enough so she could jump. In Junior High walking through the park together, questioning myself whether to ask to hold her hand. Us walking side by side, bumping hips, but too shy to go further. Partners in biology lab!
We really did have a history. I did care for her. This was amazing. None of this had ever occurred to me. Becky!? Who would have thought?
Looking to my left, I saw Laura’s eyes. She was watching me as my mind jumped through its hoops. Her eyes mirrored my thoughts. She could see what I felt.
“So you’re with me?” asked Laura softly.
“Yeah,” I said. “I am. What can we do?”
“Kidnap her.” Laura said.
“What?!” I exclaimed.
“It’s the only way.”
“What is that going to accomplish?” I asked.
“Ok, listen up. We pick her up and bring her here. We look after her. We tell Rick and her parents where she is. We challenge them to challenge us.
“You’re still with me?” said Laura.
“I guess.”
“Good. Listen up. I think Becky has been abused by her father and by Rick. I think if we kidnap her and protect her, they will back down if we threaten to expose their unlawful and abusive activities.”
“What about Becky?” I asked. “Won’t she be embarrassed and hurt by the revelations? Will she even go along with us?”
“I’m betting it doesn’t get to that,” said Laura. “The embarrassment she may face is nothing compared to the jail time and humiliation Rick and her Dad would be looking at. I bet they will back away so fast, we won’t even see their dust. And I will wager pretty much anything that Becky will stay with us.”
So, convinced we were on the right track, I found myself outside Becky’s Mom’s salon that same night, just before 9 P.M., waiting for her to close up. I was shaking. This was nuts! And what should happen? Rick drives up. He gets out and walks Casibom Giriş to the salon door. Fuck! What to do?
I wait.
Rick and Becky come out.
I have a bat. I run towards them and swing the bat at Rick’s side. He goes down.
I grab Becky and push her into the Chevy, saying “Stay there.”
I jump in the driver’s seat and drive. I drive hard to Laura’s. I say nothing. Becky looks scared.
She asks, “Where are you taking me?”
“I can’t think, please don’t talk,” I say.
We arrive at Laura’s acreage. I get out, open Becky’s door and drag her out. I hold onto her and pull her to the house. Laura opens the door. We go in. We sit.
Laura is like, so in control. She asks Becky her home phone number. She phones her Mom and says Becky is there. She says Becky is safe. She says if you have a problem, phone the police. I’m thinking “Wow, how can you do that? How can you be so sure?”
“This must seem kind of crazy to you Becky,” said Laura.
Some of Becky’s defiance showed through. “I don’t know why Aaron grabbed me and brought me here. You told my Mom I would be safe. I was safe until Aaron showed up.”
“I think your Mom knows what I meant,” replied Laura.
Through the night, no police come. We stay up. Laura makes tea. Laura puts Becky to bed in her spare bedroom. Becky sleeps. Laura and I don’t. We don’t talk much. The last thing I remember is sitting on the couch, looking with admiration across the room at Laura. Laura the Warrior. I wake to sunshine and the smell of coffee. Did we really?
Laura takes charge now. She phones Becky’s. Her Dad answers. I hear a conversation about forbidden things, about Rick. The volume rises. Loudly Laura says, “I think Rick fell. If you want to press charges, go for it. Assault while protecting a person from sexual abuse is a far lesser criminal offence than sexual abuse, especially if family is involved!” Laura listened for a minute to the phone, put it down, smiled, turned to me, and said, “Well, I think that’s that for now.”
“My Dad never abused me.”
Surprised to hear a voice, both Laura and I turned towards the hall. Becky walked into the kitchen, dressed in the jeans and light blue top she had been wearing the night before. I think I noticed her breasts move under the cloth. No bra. “Jesus Aaron, give your head a shake,” I thought. “Do I always have to notice?”
“But he never stopped Mom either. He is pretty much a wimp.”
You could have heard a pin drop for the next few seconds.
Finally Laura spoke up, “Are you saying your Mom abused you?”
“Depends what you mean by abuse,” said Becky. “But she did start my training.”
Looking at Laura, I could see her struggling to put a response together.
“Surprised?” asked Becky, leaning against the kitchen counter with her top now stretched over her breasts. In the middle of each were hard nipples prominently displayed through the fabric.
“Like what you see Aaron?” asked Becky.
Clearly there was more going on here than Laura and I, in our imaginative rescue reasoning, had accounted for. It looked as though we had acted prematurely, without enough information.
“What kind of training?” whispered Laura.
“I don’t think I have to tell you,” replied Becky.
“No you don’t. That’s true,” said Laura with moisture in her eyes.
“But I think I will. Maybe then Aaron will fuck me. I know a lot of ways to satisfy him. And I know how men’s minds work. He wants to hear how I was trained.”
Shocked to hear my name brought into the conversation, I looked up at Becky and saw, that now familiar, look of defiance in her eyes. For some reason it occurred to me that while she was saying she wanted me to fuck her, her eyes said she really didn’t. Like I was being tested. Was I the same as all other men?
Laura just looked sad and somewhat deflated.
I took a chance. “Becky,” I said. “We’ve known each other almost all our lives. Not well, I grant you, but we have shared some experiences and I like you. I always have and still do. I wanted to ask you out forever, but was too shy I guess. I was freaked out when I saw you at Rick’s because I couldn’t reconcile the you I knew with the you I saw, and because I felt you were being controlled by Rick. All in all I couldn’t handle it.”
“I don’t think I could handle us having sex right now either, not because I don’t want it, you can look in my lap for proof of that (where sure enough my wayward member was showing — obviously paying no attention to the tenor of the conversation). I do want you, but I think I want more of you than just sex.”
I wasn’t sure if I said the right things, but I could feel Laura perking up beside me. Becky’s eyes though, clouded over and she said “I am outa here, you’re such a loser!”
She then made a move for the door, but had to get past me. Without thinking, I jumped up, grabbed her hand, pulled her to me and hugged her.
Huskily I said to her, “I don’t want to let you go.”
Becky struggled for a few moments, her fists pounding my shoulders. But I didn’t let go and soon she stopped and eventually, sagged against me. I held her close. I didn’t move.
A couple of minutes later, Becky pressed her head into my chest and said, “No one wants to hold me. They all want to fuck me and make me blow them, but then they’re done and I’m either passed to the next person or sent to get beer or whatever. No one wants to hold me.”
She pressed herself tighter against me, looked up and asked, “Is it OK if we do this for a while?”
I looked down into her eyes and whispered, “As long as you want.”
Quietly, Laura got up and started moving around the kitchen.
“Are you guys OK with pancakes this morning? Scratch made. Will take about 15 minutes.”
I looked down at Becky and asked, “Hungry?”
Her response was to nod her head up and down on my chest. I nodded to Laura.
“Would you like to sit down on the couch with me?” I asked Becky.
She nodded yes. We separated then, but I held her hand and guided her to the couch, which was in the family room beside the kitchen. Only a railing separated the two rooms, so we could see Laura working. I pulled a pillow onto my lap and motioned for Becky lay down on the couch with her head in my lap. I laid my forearm on her stomach and softly stroked her side, not wanting to let go of her.
“I don’t know what to say to you,” Becky murmured. “This whole situation is confusing.”
“We don’t have to talk now. Are you OK with my arm where it is?”
In response, she took my hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips. She gave my fingers a kiss and put my hand back where it had been, though this time with her hand on top of mine.
We stayed there, motionless and speechless until Laura called out that breakfast was ready.
Breakfast was mostly uneventful. Through the kitchen window, I pointed out some of the spots I had cleaned up over the past few months. The sprained ankle incident location was in view, but did not receive any special mention that morning. Laura chatted away about what she wanted to do with the place. There was a moment of confusion as Becky found out Laura was a neighbour and not my mother, and a further disconcerting series of comments re. Why it was that Becky was brought to Laura’s. We weren’t ready to disclose our situation so bluffed through.
Laura brought in a distraction by asking if we wanted to take a walk to the river. “There is a good sheltered place where we can get some sun and relax,”
Happily, that sounded good to everyone, so we set off after breakfast, taking some blankets with us. I guess we weren’t ready to deal with reality yet.
The walk was about a half mile, but worth it. The spot Laura chose was indeed sheltered and the small river burbled happily past. I chose a log to sit on while Laura and Becky spread the two blankets nearby and sat. Laura sat facing the sun with her legs spread out and straight, leaning back on her hands. Becky sat cross legged and leaned forward.
Surprisingly, Becky was the first to talk.
“Sorry about what I said earlier,” She said. “Are you still interested in knowing about me?”
I said nothing, but Laura said, “Whatever you are willing to share Becky. No pressure.”
Said Becky, “I’ve always avoided thinking about what went on. I just did what I was told.”
“Well not at first because it bothered me and didn’t feel right. It started just after I entered puberty and began my period. At first all that happened was Mom brought videos into my room, put them in my video player and watched them with me. At first, the videos were educational. Then they were a little more explicit. Then they were full out porn. Some of them were family videos — I don’t know where she got them. I can’t say the movies turned me off, but especially at first, they made me uncomfortable.
When I told Mom I didn’t want to watch them any more she took me to the doctor and said that I was depressed. Was there something he could do? He prescribed some antidepressants, the kind that take a couple of weeks to kick in.
I don’t know what the medication did, but once it started to work, I didn’t worry so much about the videos. It was like I was riding above what was going on around me. Mom saw this I guess and then suggested that its normal for girls to masturbate. She even got me a pamphlet saying what it was and how normal it is.
Mom then stopped watching the movies with me, but made sure I did. And I have to say I started to like watching the movies and because I was alone, to masturbate while watching.
After a couple of years of this, Mom started bringing sex partners home, men and women. Dad went downstairs when this happened. She was very open about this and usually fucked right in the living room or sometimes in her room. She always left the door open. It started to seem almost normal to me, although I didn’t dare bring any friends home, because you never knew. I think I was 16 the first time she brought someone into our house to fuck.”
Neither Laura or I uttered a word.
“The very day I turned 18 a little over a year ago (by the way, I’m a year older than Aaron — I was held back one year in school), Mom brought Rick to the house.
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