Holly’s Tales…Part 3

I can tell Chris wants to intercept me on the way to the bathroom, but Amy grabs his arm. Whether it’s out of compassion or her telling him not to give a shit I don’t know. I’m thankful either way. I use the family bathroom that I can lock behind me for privacy. The echo of the heavy door slamming shut inside of the white tiled restroom is comforting in a way. A brick wall to protect me. I lean up against the cold porcelain and take a deep breath and sigh. The tears come easy.

By the time I’m done crying I’ve slid down the wall and I’m sitting on the bathroom floor. I’ve slept in worse conditions. A light knocking on the door…

“Miss, are you ok?” I have no idea who it is.

**sniff**

I wipe my nose and stand up.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m ok.” I lie. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Ok.”

I finally look in the mirror. Ugh. My red hair is tangle and messed, matted a bit from sweat, dangling down over my eyes a little, down to my shoulders. I don’t wear makeup. I can’t afford it; at least not enough to wear to the gym. My eyes are puffy and red. My cheeks are also flushed. I’m a mess. I turn on the tap and rub cold water on my face. It feels good. I wipe my face with a rough, brown paper towel but I don’t care how it feels. I look back into the mirror into my own eyes.

*So now what?* *I don’t know.* *You can’t go.* *Why not?* *Not like anyone at the foster home gives a shit.* *She wants to beat you til you bleed!* *Are you fucking serious?* *You want that?* *You want him beating you again for…No, not him.* Her. *She cares.* *For a moment she genuinely cared.* *So you’re going to let her hurt you because she cares?* *Maybe.* *I don’t know.* *She literally just offered me something I masturbate to and I’m standing here debating it.* *Until I bleed though?*

I close my eyes for a moment and allow my imagination to take over for a minute. The image of my bare body being whipped comes into focus, and I picture her. Her raven black hair, thick red lips…her powerful arms swinging a belt…no…a whip. I imagine her striking me with it, and I’m triggered again. A wave of warm pleasure emanates from between my thighs. I reach down and realize how wet I am. How wet I’ve been. I imagine it striking my bare ass cheek and I suck air from how real I felt it might be. I open my eyes and see myself staring back. It shocks me back into sense.

Reality starts creeping back in. The bleakness of the bathroom around me. White porcelain everywhere sickly painted by the fluorescent bulbs above. The can of scented air on the toilet. I’m coming back into focus. My thoughts turn to what she said earlier about enjoying college and volleyball.

*I’ll be in California in a couple of months.* *There’s nothing here I need, nothing to hang on to.* *I’m getting out and I’ve got everything out there waiting for me.* *I can’t be chasing fantasies.* *Not even once?* *No…no…that’s fucking nuts.* *Why the hell would I want her to whip…you know why you want her to… but don’t fuck up college.* *Don’t do it.* *Why not?* *Why not what I want?* *Because I’m going to fucking have what I need, a fucking life somewhere that’s actually going to be mine.*

I try to picture life at college for a moment. Images of the Stanford campus come to mind, and the palm trees and beaches of California. The idea of being away from all of this is comforting. It seemed so far away back in October. It was an impossible dream two years ago. I conjure up an image of playing volleyball there, being on the court, having that massive gym on campus I can use anytime. I had seen the gym in pictures on the internet after they had made me the scholarship offer. Rows and rows of machines of every type dotted the floor of the facility, from rowing machines to treadmills and hand bikes and free weights and stair masters.

*Stair master…*

For a moment the thought of *her* touch on my back comes to the forefront, holding my hair; the gentle reminders to keep my hands at my side. She’s back on my mind. I look in the mirror. I shut my eyes and try to force her from my mind.

*I can’t do this…*

I’ve made my decision. I open my eyes without looking at myself in the reflection. I don’t want to. I unlock the door and come out. Unwittingly I first notice the clock. It’s four forty eight. Twelve minutes to five.

*So what?* *I just want to get out of here.* *The walk of shame…*

I start my walk over to Chris and Amy still over at the treadmill, although neither of them is using one. They’re watching me every step of the way. I don’t dare look directly, but I can see *her* on the stair master ahead to my right. I realize quickly I’ll have to pass her on the way out. The knot in my stomach knowing I’m going to have to speak to her again and apologize is growing. There’s nothing left to get rid of down there, but I can feel the nerves fraying a little. I stop halfway, close my eyes and take a deep breath. Instead of darkness and clearing my mind, I suddenly imagine her grabbing my hair and pulling it back violently, then forcing her tongue down my throat. I open my eyes in shock.

*WHAT THE FUCK?!* *Christ*…

Trying to push it out of my head, I walk up to Chris; Amy standing next to him with one hand on her phone alternating her gazes between me and her screen. Her other hand is on her hip. He’s obviously pissed off. His arms are folded in front of him tightly. His mouth is scrunched up in a harsh scowl. Between that and Amy’s disgusted look I realize I could feel worse than before. I’m not looking forward to the car ride back, or the slaps and shoves I know will come.

“Hi…” I meekly force from my lips, and look up at him about six feet away. I’m much further from him than I was from *her* in the back of the gym. “Look, I’m sorry…”

I don’t have a chance to get out more. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about, SARAH?” He over-emphasizes my name rather audibly. I can’t see *her* from my angle, the stair master machines are now over my right shoulder. He’s not looking at me now, he’s looking up over in *her* direction.

*You’re a fucking idiot…don’t antagonize her, fuck…*

“What did she tell you?” I assume she told him she caught me staring.

“That you’d fucking tell me if you wanted to, that I don’t own you.” He switches his focus from me over to the stair master machines. “Apparently she fucking owns you? What the fuck were you doing for her? Do you know her?”

He takes a step closer, his arms at his side acting a little more muscular than he was. He’s puffing up…peacocking.

“It was just a misunderstanding,” I try to explain, not really sure what my lie is going to be or where it’s going to go, “and she wanted to talk to me. I guess she didn’t want to be interrupted while we talk, I don’t know.”

I’m getting flustered. I know my cheeks are red now. They flush when I lie and get nervous. I don’t usually get nervous when I lie though. This is new.

*This is fucked up is what it is…*

I can’t help myself but look up at the clock.

*Four fifty six, FUCK!*

Somehow I need to break this off with Chris and get over there before it’s too late. My heart is suddenly racing. Four minutes.

“Bullshit Sarah.” It’s Amy. I look over at her. “I stood over here and watched everything. You literally fucking let her boss you around like she owned you. What the actual fuck? I have it recorded.”

She holds up her phone and I can see a still image of me standing in front of *her,* the “play” arrow clearly visible indicating a video.

*Are you fucking kidding me?* *You fucking bitch!*

“What the hell, Amy?” I bark at her.

Chris butts in again, “Shut the fuck up, this is your fucking issue not hers. I want to know what the hell just happened back there? Are you fucking that thing? Is that how you know her?”

I look up at him, my jaw wide open. The last time he was that angry I sported a nice red hand print on my right cheek for a few minutes. He wouldn’t do it here, but later when we would be alone.

*Better than what Greg would do.* *He’d have whipped you.*

A wave of panic grips me. I turn and focus on the clock. The seconds hand is ticking just past the 5:00 mark. I look at the door and *she’s* walking out.

*FUCK NO!!!!* *Fuck…wait!!!!*

My eyes are darting everywhere. To *her*, to Chris, to Amy…

“I’m sorry, shit Chris, I’ll be right back…” I start moving to the door. I have to reach her before she gets in. I have to apologize. I don’t know what car she’s heading to, but she’s already out the second sets of doors and onto the sidewalk. Chris moves towards me for a moment as if to grab me but I’ve already moved far enough away.

“Don’t you fucking…Sarah, stop!” I’ve already reached the doors. I push through the first set, oblivious of the scene behind me. In exiting the gym through the second set, I can see she’s heading towards a large, black SUV. The yellow flashing lights that blinked twice indicate she’s just unlocked it. She’s got about twenty feet to reach it. I have to cover easily three times that distance. She’s walking.

“MA’AM WAIT PLEASE! SORRY…I’M SORRY” I yell…beginning to sprint. She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t slow down.

*Fuck…please…just give me five seconds please!!!*

She reaches her car, and walks around to the driver’s side and opens the door and gets in. I arrive at the passenger side right as she gets in and closes her door. I reach for the front passengers door handle, but I hear the sounds of the door locks snapping closed tightly. I lean forward and grab the handle.

“Please ma’am!” I look in. She’s not looking at me. She’s looking straight ahead, and starts the engine. I pull again on the handle. I suddenly hear the lock to the rear passenger side door. It jolts me. I know what it means if I get in. I look back at the gym. Chris is standing at the window watching with his sister. I can the confusion and anger on his face. Amy is standing next to him, holding her camera up, clearly recording.

I stare at them for a moment.

I turn back and look at her blurry outline through the tinted windows.

My heart is pounding.

I reach for the back door and pull.

It opens. I get in, slide onto the leather seat, and close the door.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/k8nnll/hollys_talespart_3