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Good Girl... Bad Girl...
by Kaereni
The woman sat at the glowing computer screen. Even with all the lights on in the house, the alarm system armed, and the pistol sitting beside her keyboard, she still feels the darkness closing in. Her hands pressing against her head she moans, “No more… leave me alone… your dead.” The war in her mind rages on, part of it screaming, “Bad girl” to her over and over. Even now that the horror is over she is haunted.
Night after night the memories come back and she is caught in the loop even after all this time. The seduction, the love that once flew like a dove towards the morning light changing into something dark and ugly. The love dieing and all that was left was the darkness and pain. Her world transformed from heaven to hell. The love she felt never dieing, never giving up hope that what was once would be again. Wanting to please, needing the kind word or touch that came all too infrequently.
A crowded bar in Georgetown, Friday night and all the sharks are out trolling the waters. Sitting at the bar sipping her gin and tonic enjoying watching men come up to her, use every pickup line imaginable and move on when she turns them down cold. She had always enjoyed watching people come and go through the doors. She had been coming to this bar every Friday night since she had moved here.
She knew all the regulars and would smile as she played the game “Who would go home with who tonight” with herself. Even though she would not go home with anyone she enjoyed playing and seeing her acquaintances get lucky. She was saving herself for Mister Right to come and sweep her off her feet. That was before her life and world changed.
She remembers their first look exchanged. Looking over towards the door as she entered, a woman wearing a tight leather skirt, white blouse, raven black hair up in a bun took her breath away. It was as if a peacock had entered into a barnyard full of chickens. The woman standing there at the door looking around, making eye contact and then walking over to stand before her.
She never had though of being with a woman before until now. The woman says, “Rachel” her voice sounding like an angel.
“Carolyn” she says in reply, her tongue tied and mouth dry. She feels like a deer captured in the headlights of an onrushing truck unable to move or look away. She had heard people talk of love at first sight but had always dismissed it. Now she understood what that phrase meant, “Could this be love?” she asked herself.
She feels Rachel’s touch on her arm and gets goose bumps as the words she had been hoping to hear comes from the lips of her angel, “let’s go home.” She stands nodding, her hand finds Rachel’s and she is lead out of the bar like a child by her parent through a crowded mall.
Getting into the Porch 911, Rachel was turning to her, leaning over and hand on her neck guiding their lips together. Oh how she loved that kiss, the world melted away and nothing mattered except feeling her angel kiss her. The drive to her angel’s house builds her excitement as does Rachel’s hand stroking her leg.
The night of love making, each moment more exquisite then the last as she learns how to please a woman and finds pleasure at a woman’s touch. Hearing through out the night Rachel’s voice saying, “good girl… my good girl” Loving her more deeply with each heart beat, wanting to please her and to hear the words “good girl.”
Waking in the morning laying next to Rachel and realizing it was not a dream. Rachel’s smile as she pulls her against her breast and strokes her hair, “Good girl... My good girl” She is in heaven not wanting to move away whispering back, “my angel.” She remembers the weekend passing days spend cuddling and making love. Never in her life had she felt so strongly for a person, her angel, her goddess.
Sunday night, hearing the words she longed for, “Stay with me.” The moment of sanity interposing wondering about her apartment, her stuff, her job, she then looks into those eyes and everything else not mattering anymore.
“Always and forever” she replies. Even now she remembers the moment when she lost all control over her life. Monday calling in to work, quitting her job as she lays nude in Rachel’s lap, Rachel’s hand in her hair stroking and caressing it saying “good girl” Calling her apartment manager, breaking her lease and telling him to just sell everything without a care in the world. She knew her angel would take care of her from then on.
The next two weeks spent in a blur, days filled with love and tenderness, finding freedom in not wearing anything other then an anklet that Rachel gave her. More then ever before she had found happiness each time Rachel said the golden words, “good girl” her heart would swell to almost bursting.
Then it all changed during dinner one night. Rachel asking her to pour some more wine and accidentally knocks the glass over spilling the red wine all over Rachel’s white blouse. The look of anger crossing Rachel’s face and the words “bad girl” followed by a slap that spun her head around. She lives Rachel’s iron grip on her arm as she pulls her down and over her lap.
The first spanking, hearing Rachel say bad girl over and over with each hit. Crying and saying sorry over and over she winces with the pain but knowing she deserved it and worse somewhere deep inside. She was a bad girl. Even when the spanking stopped and Rachel let her stand once more, she felt like it was not enough. Tears rolling down her face she said the words that sealed her doom, “punish me more…” as she looked at the floor.
Her life changed then with those three words. Her angel who she loved with all her heart turned into the daughter of evil. She was stupid and dumb, unable to do the simplest task right without being bad. The punishments came more frequently and harsher, she was a bad girl and needed to become good once more. The love and tenderness after the punishments made them worth it. Anything was worth it to hear Rachel say, “Good girl.” It was only then that she felt she was worth anything. The days blurred together each filled with pain and torment. She was bad and no matter how hard she tried she could not please her angel.
The day it ended, the day the police came and shot Rachel, she was tied to the bed, the needles sticking from her body, the electrical current running to them keeping her world a red pain filled haze. Over and over again she would say, “Bad girl” because that is what her angel wanted to hear. The gunshots in the other room not distracting her from her quest to purge the bad and become a good girl once more.
She remembers the men coming in to the bedroom and turning off her electrical current, pulling the needles, untying her and taking her away from the hell that was her world. Laying in a hospital room curled up whimpering “bad girl.” They didn’t understand she had to become a good girl to be punished to purge the bad from her.
She remembers the time spent in the hospital learning it was all a ploy of Rachel’s who would have killed her when the fun went out of the game. She learned she had done it with 4 others before her. It took time but she did learn she did move past it all, at least on the outside. Inside she knew better, she was a bad girl and Rachel loved her, wanted her to be her good girl.
The woman sat at the glowing computer screen writing a good bye letter to everyone. Even with all the lights on in the house, the alarm system armed, and the pistol sitting beside her keyboard, she still feels the darkness closing in. Placing the pistol in her mouth she thinks, “Bad girl” and pulls the trigger.