The Ice Queen Cometh Ch. 02

Jamie sat on the stall wondering how she could have done all that she had, and began to cry. "It's those damnable pills," she muttered to herself. She relieved herself, let a lot of the cum inside her disappear into the toilet, and then mustered the courage to leave the stall.

One of the call girls asked if she were okay. "Not really," Jaime said.

The call girl led her over to the couch, sat her down and then joined her on the couch, and said, "Tell me about it." Seeing Jamie's anxiety to return, she said, "Whoever he is, he can wait. Talk to me, honey."

Jamie did. Drunk though she was, she nevertheless managed to give a coherent, succinct, even pithy account of her story and how it got to where she was. The call girl, who went by the name Crystal, told her, "Honey, take this man Miguel home, and fuck his brains out. Then never see him again, go back to work, and if your boss tries this again, tell him to fuck off."

"That sounds good, Crystal. What about Mike?" Jamie asked.

"He brought you the pills, and you paid him well with a public fuck. Transaction over. He's history, honey. Leave him be. I'll get my friend Emerald to distract him as you make your exit with Miguel," Crystal said.

Crystal leaned over and kissed Jamie. Jamie had never before kissed a woman on the lips, and this was one hell of a kiss, to boot. To her great surprise, not only did Jamie enjoy the kiss, it aroused her already sexually used and abused body, and it brought her an emotional closeness with Crystal. It was a different kind of closeness with a woman; one she had never thought it possible to have.

With Crystal, she thought, she could be close without involving her genitalia. Wouldn't that be refreshing?

Jamie gave Crystal the next kiss, and it was just as intimate. Crystal pushed up Jamie's halter top, and she caressed her boobs. The way she caressed them was different than the way Jason, Mike, and Miguel had caressed them. Crystal caressed them with love combined with respect.

"This is not the time nor place," Crystal said, when the kiss finally broke. "The ladies' room in a gentlemen's club! I hope we meet again in the future, Jamie. You're my kind of girl."

"Those two kisses were amazing. Crystal, you have opened my eyes," Jamie said.

Crystal laughed. "I'll bet you did not even know they had been closed," she said.

Now both women laughed. Laughing felt good. Jamie dried her eyes and cleaned the tracks of her tears off her face, and she left the ladies' room a new woman, ready to face the world, and to take Miguel home, or not, as she saw fit.

Jamie remembered it was Mike who saved her from what might have become a gang rape; there had been no sign of Miguel. Miguel had also deliberately exposed her to the men, and he had passed her to Mike for sloppy seconds. Both men were pigs. But Miguel was the bigger pig.

Did that even make sense? She was attributing levels of sexist, misogynist, boorish behavior? Get real, Jamie, she told herself. Both of these men are creeps. If I can't do better than them, I might was well cash in my chips now, she thought.

Why should she take Miguel home? She walked around, and she could not find Mike, who was supposed to be waiting for her, nor could she find Miguel. She gradually realized they had both left. She looked for Crystal, and she finally found her, but she was - how to put this delicately - busy. The curtains were drawn, but she saw Crystal, naked from the waist down, behind the curtains, together with a man.

Holy shit. The man fucking Crystal was Miguel! Well, that settled that.

Jamie was alone. Scared and clutching her purse, she left the club. She walked back to the Harvard Club, and asked the doorman to call her a cab. He looked at her as if she were a lady of the evening, and he refused to help.

So, she walked over to Sixth Avenue and found one herself. The only problem was that when she raised her arm to flag a cab, her skirt rode up and she exposed herself. Sixth Avenue is a busy street in New York, even more so on Friday nights, and lots of people got a free look until a taxi stopped for her and saved her from even more humiliation.

Now safe at home, she climbed into the bath, soaked in the hot water, and cried. After her bath, she crawled into bed, and fell into a deep sleep. It was a sleep of too much alcohol, and it was not a peaceful, restful sleep, but one troubled by dreams. Still, it was better than reality.

Part III: Paul Comes to Visit

Morning came with the bell ringing. She had slept nude after the bath, enjoying her newfound ability to be naked within the confines of her own apartment. Her gymnophobia had definitely weakened. She threw on a robe and went to the door.

It was Paul, her sister's beau, who was calling early this Saturday morning. Her intuition failed her as to how to handle this, but her automatic politeness required that she invite him in. She felt uncomfortable, since she was not properly dressed, and Paul is the new beau of her sister Anna.

She offered him coffee; she needed some herself. She left him in the living room and padded off to the kitchen to make coffee. She warmed some sweet rolls, and returned with coffee and sweet rolls on a tray. While in the kitchen she fixed her hair, put on lipstick and a little perfume, and she tightened the sash of her robe.

Even with the sash pulled tight, her robe was not conducive to modesty. The robe was not designed to be worn over a naked body, but rather over a nightgown, or clothes. Fortunately she was sure that the pills were still working, so she thought little of it.

Nevertheless, when she bent over to place the tray on her coffee table, she belatedly noticed that Paul had enjoyed a great view of her naked boobs. His eyes were twinkling. Jamie smiled. She enjoyed showing off, now that she could. Doing so in front of Paul was safe; he could not possibly be interested in her, since he was in love with her sister Anna.

Paul had done more research, and he knew or had figured out everything. He explained to Jamie that Gloria had coached Jason Jones to use total darkness to seduce Jamie and therefore to add the prize of a virgin to his list of conquests. This was a big deal to Jason, since at his age he had thought the days of seducing virgins were over.

Jason had not taken a car to the airport as Jamie had thought, but a car to Gloria's, where he had a long tryst with her. When both he and Gloria were satiated, he returned home not to Chicago, but to New Jersey, where he lives. He is no longer from Chicago, having moved to New Jersey four years earlier.

Mike had also been a setup, and Dyrenatrene was a fabrication of Gloria's imagination; the pills were placebos. Gloria even arranged for Jamie's boss to be there to watch the now infamous public fuck. The only thing to have happened without Gloria being behind it, was that her boss had forced Miguel upon her. Also, Miguel really is a potential client of the firm.

Jamie sat there, in a state of shock. Her anger at Gloria's betrayal of their friendship was matched only by her gratitude to Paul for having learned all this on her behalf.

Jamie leaned forward to get her coffee to take another sip, and Paul again enjoyed a free view of her boobs. Despite her outrage regarding Gloria, Jamie felt playful. She did not stop her robe from gradually separating, as the poorly tied knot in the sash of her robe began to loosen. Her robe began to separate, just a bit.

She knew Paul could now see a thin stream of flesh from her neck all the way down to her navel. Every time she moved her robe seemed to separate more. The obvious and normal thing to do would be to pull it together and retie the sash. Instead, letting her feminine wiles run wild, she did nothing.

The robe continued to separate, just a little, with each and every gesticulation she made as she and Paul conversed. She felt deliciously wicked. There was a mirror on the wall, a little to the left, behind Paul's chair. This allowed her to track the progress of her robe's separation without Paul knowing she was doing it. It also allowed her to look completely ignorant, and therefore innocent, of its ever so gradual separation.

The thin stream of flesh descending vertically down the exact middle of her torso gradually, ever so slowly, widened to a river. The inside halves of her boobs were now clearly visible. With a little more separation, the areolas and nipple would pop into view. The next steps would be the exposure of her entire boobs. She could imagine her boobs on full display, ready to greet Paul's hungry gaze. She would not let it get that far.

There was an awkward silence when Paul finished telling her all that was going on. Jamie knew it was the woman's role to keep the conversation going. She innocently asked about her sister Anna, since now Anna and Paul were a couple. They were a couple very much in love.

Paul broke down. He had found Anna in bed with another man. Jamie was horrified, but not completely surprised. She knew her sister. Anna liked sex, and she liked variety. It was that simple. In Anna's mind, it was not betrayal; she knew she loved Paul, and he knew she loved him. But Paul had a more conventional view of fidelity.

Jamie explained this to Paul, and she took pains to emphasize that despite Anna's occasional bedroom romp with another man, Anna loved him, Paul. She was sure of it. In fact, she was almost certainly having sex with another man due to a fear of how much she loved Paul. For Anna, it was scary to be so much in love with a man.

Paul did not understand, no matter how much she tried to explain. As she explained, she gesticulated at times for emphasis. She was so worried about getting Paul to understand, she forgot to monitor the progress of her robe's tendency to separate. But her robe separating was just gravity and physics, and it continued on the task nature demanded. Her robe separated even more. Her nipples were tantalizingly close to peeking out from underneath.

"Look, Paul," she finally tried to explain. "Take me as an example. I'm terrified I am a submissive. Do you know what that is?"

"Not really," Paul said.

"When I love a man, and this has not yet happened, I am terrified that I will be under his control, forced to do whatever he tells me to do." Paul was still not getting it, she could tell. She continued, "Okay, suppose there is a man I love. Let's call him Troy. Then as an example, and only as an example, if Troy ordered me to seduce you and fuck your brains out, I would feel as if I had no choice but to do it, even though you're my sister's lover."

"Why would Troy want to you to seduce someone else?" Paul asked. "Even me?"

"It would be to prove how much control he had over me. Forcing a woman to sleep with another man, perhaps while he watches, is the ultimate control. Controlling a woman's sex life is controlling her totally," Jamie tried to explain.

"And you would do it? You would seduce me if Troy told you to do so?" Paul asked. Jamie got alarmed; it seemed Paul was warming to the idea of sex with her.

Jamie was right. Paul was thinking what's good for the goose should be good for the gander. He was most definitely the gander. And who better to take to bed to revenge Anna's infidelity than her own sister? He felt stirrings in his groin as he had these thoughts, and as he got to see more and more of Jamie's wonderful boobs.

"That's not the point, Paul. The point is that a submissive feels that she has no choice but to do as her master requires. By analogy, Anna needs to sleep around to defend herself against how vulnerable she feels due to her near total love of you," Jamie explained, gesticulating forcefully.

"But nobody is ordering Anna to sleep around," Paul said. There was anger in his voice.

Jamie had temporarily forgotten to monitor her robe, and now it separated to the point where Paul could see her areolas, nipples, and around three quarters of her entire breasts. If she wanted her body to look more inviting, more tempting, it might have been hard to think of a way to do it.

"I'm beginning to understand," Paul said. He gave Jamie a strange smile. One that seemed to reveal malevolence. "Troy has ordered you to seduce me, and now you are doing it."

"No, no, of course not!" Jamie explained. She was exasperated at her inability to get through to Paul. "There is no Troy. There is no seduction. It was just an example!" she said, and as she said it, as she spread her arms for emphasis, she felt her robe separate completely.

Jamie glanced at the mirror, seeing a reflection of her own breasts, beautifully exposed in their entirety. She gasped, and coquettishly clasped her hand to her mouth in horror. It was an automatic gesture, and one Paul found fetching.

She jumped up. Her robe practically fell off of her as she stood. She grabbed for the edges of her robe to pull it closed. She sat down on the love seat, holding her robe closed. She apologized to Paul.

Paul got up and sat next to Jamie on the love seat. "No need to apologize, Jamie. Troy will be pleased," he said.

"Paul, please believe me," Jamie said. "There is no Troy. Nobody is ordering me to seduce you. I am not seducing you, it was just an example, and - oh my!" Jamie said, as Paul reached into her robe and began to fondle her left breast. He leaned over her and kissed her on the lips as he played with her nipple.

Jamie was flummoxed. She realized she had screwed up royally, letting her robe open, while giving this ridiculous example to try to explain dominance and submission, as an analogy to explain Anna's behavior. She had put ideas in Paul's head. Could she have been a bigger idiot?

Paul was smart, but he was a simple, traditional, and straightforward man, who did not care about the perversions and fuck ups of the Cappiano girls. He liked sex. And he was kissing her. Oh my goodness, what should she do? She did like - no, she loved - the way he kissed her, but he was her sister's beau. He was verboten!

Jamie pushed him away, and pulled his hand away from her breast. "No, Paul. That felt nice, and I love the way you kiss, but you are my sister's lover, and I am off limits. This is not acceptable."

"You have great boobs, Jamie. You are really pretty and amazingly sexy," Paul said. He leaned over to try to kiss her again, but Jamie turned her head to aovid the kiss, and he kissed her neck instead. God, it felt nice.

"Thank you, Paul. That's nice to know," Jamie replied as Paul nuzzled her neck, driving Jamie a little bit nuts. "But we must stop this. How about I make us some breakf - oh my goodness!"

Paul's hand had now found Jamie's pussy, and was stroking her labia, while he continued to kiss her neck.

"No, Paul, NO!" Jamie cried. But she sat frozen, doing nothing physically to stop him, so he continued. Jamie suddenly stood up. When she did so Paul's hand held her robe and it slipped off her completely. She was standing in front of him naked.

Jamie looked down at Paul as he gazed up at her naked form. Jamie was so upset she was just then unaware that she was naked. She said, "Paul, I'm sorry you discovered Anna with another man. I am sure it was a shock. But we cannot, I will not..."

Jamie was too slow. She never saw it coming. As she stood there, trying to send Paul away, Paul rushed her, knocking her over and pushing her to the ground. Jamie's head hit a table. It was a glancing blow, but enough to draw blood, and it stunned Jamie for a solid minute.

A minute was more than enough time for Paul to remove his pants and to jump on top of her, with his torso in between her legs. He began to maul her boobs roughly as Jamie's eyes became wide in shock and fear.

"No, Paul! Get off of me! Let me up. What are you doing?" Jamie cried, and her voice was laced with fear.

Something had snapped in Paul. Anna had betrayed him with another man, and now Jamie had teased him. Jamie had the gall to stand up in front of him, naked, with her fabulous boobs and perfect figure taunting him. Her pussy had been at his eye level, for crying out loud! And standing like that, ordering him to go; did she think he was the king of wimps?

Paul lost control of his reason. Jamie could see his intent, his anger, his hatred, and his lust. All were combined in his eyes, and his malevolent smile. Fear now consumed Jamie: raw, unbridled fear.

Jamie's eyes flew wide open in alarm. She began to hit Paul. She screamed at him to get off her. Paul pinned her arms. She could not close her legs because Paul's body was between them. Paul had endured an erection for the last hour. It had begun the first time he had looked down her robe at her gorgeous boobs. Now it had a place to go. And it went.

Jamie had a conniption when she felt Paul enter her. "You're raping me! Get off me now, you bastard! Help, rape!" Jamie screamed.

Paul socked her jaw, shocking Jamie into silence. "Shut up and fuck me back, you Cappiano slut. You're all sluts: you, your mother, and your cheating whore of a sister. All of you goddam fucking Cappiano women." Paul venomously spit out the words, as he pumped in and out of Jamie with the force of the pistons of a truck. Not just any truck: his fucking was so brutal it recalled the thumping pistons of the engine of a Peterbilt truck.

Peterbilts are the most beautiful of the 18 wheelers, and their pistons are as powerful as any other truck's. It's a pity Jamie was too preoccupied to think about these trucks just then. She had often thought of them when she was alone, and pleasuring herself.

Jamie knew this was a revenge fuck. The revenge was aimed at her sister Anna. But if Paul could rape her, Jamie, then Anna was better off without him. In the meantime, she was being raped! What was she going to do about it? Paul was giving her a rough fuck as she lay there, underneath him, her jaw hurting like hell, trapped under his weight and his strong arms pinning her own arms.

Jamie tried to struggle with her legs, her only tool left. It had the unintended effect of giving Paul's cock even deeper access inside her. Paul said, "There's a good girl. Now you're fucking back. I've wanted to fuck you since our memorable brunch."

He had? She had no idea. Maybe this was not a revenge rape? Jamie thought. Or maybe Paul just wanted to fuck her, and he is also a rapist? She knew at this point it was too dangerous to do anything but to let him continue to rape her. She had no choice, anyway.

Jamie felt guilty. She had teased him with her robe and her boobs. She had given the example of being ordered to fuck him. And he was vulnerable because of Anna's foolish betrayal. Or maybe it was just foolish that she had been caught? Maybe unconsciously she had wanted to be caught? To test Paul, or perhaps to rid herself of him?

Jamie realized she had been amazingly stupid. But who knew he would react this way? And no matter how she had behaved, nothing justifies a rape. She was being taken by force. It was a rape. She had to tell herself that even while he was pumping in and out of her. Because damn it all, it felt good. She could not believe she was being raped. And being raped by Paul, no less!

Okay, she knew why he called Anna a slut. Anna had cheated on him. She also knew why he called her a slut: He had seen the now infamous video of Mike pleasuring her in a park in downtown Manhattan. But why her mother? Because she gave birth to us two sisters? Are the sins of the daughters to reflect on the mother?

Or did he know of their mother's highly dubious past? Shit, her mother was not even sure our father is our biological father. "He might be," she often said. Jamie was an adult before she understood what "he might be" meant. Her father knocked up her mother during a festive gangbang; or more precisely, it might have been him. Maybe Anna had told him the stories.