Brutal Comfort

"I've never felt this way about anyone else. Life with you is like a romance you read about and dismiss as too good to be true. I don't think I can go back to living a life you aren't in. When I grow old, I want you by my side, still living this dream."

She looked tersely at Blair, hoping the surprise of it wasn't too much. Inwardly, she cursed herself for not sleeping on it and planning a better proposal back in New York. She was so caught up in the moment that it felt as natural as breathing.

"Yes, Flo. A million times yes!" screamed an ecstatic Blair, wrapping Florence in a kiss. The rain was beginning to fade as the sun braved another appearance through the clouds, shining a celestial spotlight on their proposal.

Blair's body hurt with the exertions of the past hour.

Wait. It actually hurt.

She opened her eyes slowly to find that the scenic island had been replaced by a small whitewashed room with a solitary window and a laptop with a webcam on the desk.

"You were good."

She turned her head to see her benefactor standing at the door.

"Over twenty thousand live streams. Not bad for a first time. You made me a lot of money and I am grateful for it. Here's your reward."

She placed another syringe of clear liquid within arm's reach.

"It must be one hell of a happy place you have for you to get through this. I've given you the expensive stuff this time. Much more potent. Stronger kick."

Blair looked down at her naked body seeing welts and contusions. There was a single needle mark near the crook of her arm, a sight she used to be accustomed to seeing. Her groin hurt, the pain amplified with every little movement she tried to make.

"My girls got a little carried away and you didn't say no. In fact, you didn't do much of anything except lie there."

She tried moving, suddenly becoming acutely aware that her whole body hurt.

"I want to go," she said weakly.

"Go where? She's dead. The only way you'll feel better about her death is on the table to your right. You forget that long before she found you, I did. I know you and what you'll do to feel like the world isn't over."

Blair looked at her for a few long moments before reaching for the syringe.

"Your next stream's in an hour. I suggest you take your reward before it starts. The man who requested this one is into some sick shit, even by my standards."

The woman left Blair staring up at the blank ceiling pondering the lesser of two excruciating alternatives.

* *

It was past three in the morning when Heather got the call. Her mind, trained as always to process shock and keep moving forward, immediately summed up the situation. Even as she got dressed and put on her shoes, her mind stirred with an unnatural anger at what had happened to Blair.

It was still dark when she rushed through the front doors at Mount Sinai hospital. The one who spoke to her over the phone was waiting for her in the lobby.

"Agent Clavijero. We spoke on the phone," said the suited man shaking her hand. Despite the late hour, his dress and shoes were impeccable, indicating that he was used to working around the clock.

"What happened?"

"The cyber crime task force found her. A sex ring that streams anything-goes live videos over the Deep Web. We got a tip off from one of our inside sources that Blair was the star attraction for the night. The stream was traced back to an abandoned housing project in Syracuse."

"What about Blair?" Heather asked, as both of them walked briskly towards the elevator.

"She was unconscious and chained to a bed when we found her. She hasn't come to since. There are needle marks on her arm. Fresh ones."

"Fuck!" exclaimed Heather. She took a deep breath to regain her composure. "Sorry."

"No need. It's going to be one of those days."

They sat in the waiting room, helplessly imagining what was going on behind the doors.

"Your boss, Tom Markham, pulled some serious strings. No one from the media has any clue about this. He also woke up the chief of surgery here, Anand Rastogi, at this ungodly time of the night."

Minutes ticked by mercilessly. Heather looked out at the sky and saw traces of the incipient sunrise over the horizon. The doors to the OR opened and a heavy set, balding man in a white coat came out.

"How is she?"

Dr. Rastogi shook his head ruefully.

"She's in the ICU right now. Preliminary tox results reveal many different opiods, hallucinogens, and narcotics in her system. Her blood is mostly a cocktail of drugs. It's a miracle she hasn't overdosed in the past month since she went missing. There's also something else."

He took a deep breath and continued, trying to will himself to say what came next.

"She shows signs of repeated and brutal sexual assault. There are tears and lacerations on her vagina and rectum as well as dried blood along with several other flesh wounds on different parts of her body."

"Is she going to make it?" blurted out Heather.

"Physically, she will be okay. Mentally, I don't know."

He sighed morosely and went back through the OR doors.

* *

"You're not my lawyer anymore."

"No, I'm not," said Heather, standing in front of the holding cell.

The woman inside got up and walked to the steel bars.

"Don't tell me you're here about Blair. She came to me, after all."

Heather simply looked at her former client, anger bristling through her skin.

"She got what she wanted, believe me. She practically begged me for the drugs."

"And you were only too happy to oblige, weren't you?"

The woman inside took a step back until she was out of Heather's reach.

"I know who you are and I know what you did. You got Blair started on drugs back when she was eighteen. You spent years pumping her full of them and having sex with her."

"I love that girl, you know. Florence took her away from me."

"You're going to jail," said Heather, her tone icy cold. "I don't know for how long, but you are. When you get out, you won't even think of getting back in touch with her. In fact, you will act like she never existed. Are we clear?"

"You, Heather Franklin, taking the moral high ground," she smirked from behind the bars. "That's rich. Does your precious Blair know the kind of people you represent? Does she know I was a client of yours once? Face it, Heather. You and I are made from the same filth that it takes to survive in this city."

Heather clenched and unclenched her fist before replying in the same chillingly calm voice.

"Surprising as it may sound, I do have my limits. And what you did to Blair? That was way past it. You get out of her life, never so much as look in her direction again, or else I will dismantle you. I will lay you to waste and leave nothing behind but scorched Earth."

The woman looked at her blankly, showing the beginnings of fear flit across her face. Eventually, she nodded.

* *

"Hi."

Her voice sounded so soft and tired, and yet she had to expend a lot of effort squeezing out those two letters.

"How do you feel?"

"Tired. Sleepy," she murmured. "What day is it? Where am I?"

"You're in a hospital, Blair," said Heather. "They found you last week."

Her senses came into sharper focus. She was aware of the metronomic beeping of the EKG behind her. There were multiple drips attached to her forearm. It was only when she tried shifting her weight that she found most of her body sheathed in bandages.

"Can we have a moment?" Heather asked the nurses who nodded and left the room.

"What did you do, Blair? If you were really that depressed, you could have called me."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," she said, her voice breaking with a weak sob. "It hurts so much right now."

"It's the withdrawal. They flushed all the drugs out of your system, but it will take some time for your body to get back to normal."

"How long do I have to be here?"

"That's for the doctors to decide. This hospital also has a great outpatient rehab program. You should attend it after you get out."

Blair nodded listlessly. Quietly, she turned towards Heather and curled into a fetal position.

Heather reached into her coat pocket and pulled out an object and put it into her hand. She looked down to see her phone.

"Thank you," she mouthed weakly before closing her eyes.

In a moment of weakness, Heather reached out to caress her cheek. She looked deathly pale, almost entirely devoid of life. Seeing the pallor of sleep fall across her face, she craned her neck over and placed her lips on the cheek and planted a soft kiss.

* *

"Come out here, darling."

Florence stepped out from the lower levels of the catamaran. She saw the dark shape of Blair covered in a thick jacket and overalls.

The rush of the wind could be heard around them, somewhere between a whisper and a roar. The darkness of the ocean and the cloudless sky met and merged at the horizon until they were not sure where one ended and the other began. The full moon looked larger, as did its reflection.

"I haven't ever gone this far north," said Florence. "I hope it'll be worth it."

"Wait for it," said Blair, eagerly checking her watch.

They settled into two deck chairs and waited. A bottle of wine lay on the table between them. Blair leaned over and planted a deep kiss on Flo. Their tongues waltzed softly, falling in love with the movements of the other all over again.

"Happy birthday, my love," said Blair softly before moving her head out of the way. Flo looked at the sky above her in open-mouthed awe.

Streaks of white hurtled across the sky. At first there were only a few, but the density gradually grew. Multiple glowing points raced through the inky darkness, each leaving a smoky white trail.

The Orionid shower continued, each streak mirrored by the water below. Ephemeral gashes in the night sky. Droplets of creation, falling on a still dark world.

Blair closed her eyes and made the same wish for every single falling star.

Even in her medicated sleep, she knew that her wishes didn't come true. The only remnant was the memory of wishing.

* *

A FEW WEEKS LATER

"When did you set all this up?"

"This apartment belongs to a friend of mine. He'll be abroad for the next six months. I figured you would want to get away from the house, away from all those memories."

She led Blair through the place. It was functional, lacking the opulence of Flo's mansion. Blair sat down at the table.

"Why are you doing so much for me?" she asked. "You barely even know me."

"I knew Florence. When she made me the executor of her will, she made me promise I would take care of you and help you however I could if something happened to her. That's the only thing she ever asked of anyone."

"What happens now?"

"I've spoken to Dr. Caldwell about resuming your grief counselling. I've even scheduled it so that it will be on your way back from the rehab meetings. All your medication is stocked in your bedroom cabinet. If you need anything else, call me."

Heather placed her hands over Blair's and looked into her piercing green irises.

"Please. If you feel like you need help, call me this time. I know what it's like to lose someone. Sometimes, all it takes is for someone to tell you that the world hasn't ended."

"I have a favour to ask of you."

"Anything," replied Heather.

"Can you draw up a will for me? Like you did for Flo."

"Why? Let's think about that later."

Blair clasped her palm.

"When Flo got on the plane that morning, do you think she knew she would need a will? I almost died myself. If these past several months have taught me anything, it's how fragile and fleeting life is. Flo gave me all her assets. I want to make sure I can take care of them even if I am not around. Please, I need to do this."

"Okay then. I'll draw up the paperwork."

* *

"That's it then," said Heather as the assorted people left the conference room with a newly ratified will. "All of your money will go to charity."

Blair smiled. She looked much better than in the hospital. A light crimson tinge had returned to her bloodless cheeks.

"That day, back in the mansion when I asked you to hold me. You didn't."

"You're my client, Blair. It's a big ethical no-no."

"You're fired."

Heather stared at her, unable to process the words. Blair softly held her hand up to her face and kissed the back of her palm.

"You're fired," she repeated. "Now kiss me, you fool."

* *

They tumbled into Blair's temporary apartment. Heather grabbed her shoulder, turned her around and pushed her against the wall. She got on her knees and grabbed a hard handful of Blair's sumptuous ass. She smacked it hard, using her other hand to push the door shut.

With a resounding smack, she brought her hand down on Blair's ass. Blair moaned against the wall. Heather slipped her fingertips into the waistband of Blair's pants and yanked them down to her ankles.

Blair groaned and stuck her ass back. Heather saw a thin scar on the side. Carefully, she licked up the length of it, eliciting a throaty groan from Blair.

"No one will ever hurt you again."

She held the insides of her thighs with both her hands and parted them. Her swollen pink lips were visible. Heather leaned forward and touched the bottom of her lips with her tongue.

"Yess!"

Heather smacked her ass again and nestled her head under her parted thighs. With a little creative manoeuvring, she found herself facing her fleshy lips. She grabbed Blair's legs, letting her fingers sink into the skin before licking her from her apex all the way down in one achingly slow motion.

"Do it again. Oh fuck!"

Heather obliged, kissing and licking her tortuously. Blair felt a steady stream of pleasure flow through her body. She stepped back from the wall, allowing Heather's kneeling figure some space.

She continued licking and added her finger. Blair's eyes rolled back as her experienced partner plunged her fingers into her silken depths. Her fleshy walls pulsed and dampened at the intrusion of the dexterous digits.

Blair screamed out her first orgasm, unloading a wet burst of cum onto Heather's face. She rose to her feet and steadied a weak-kneed Blair. She held her chin and turned her face towards her. Blair got a glimpse of her own liquids glistening on Heather's face before their lips crashed in a torrid kiss.

Heather grabbed her dress and flung it off of her. Her ample breasts visible, she teased and pinched both of them expertly. She took both nipples between her thumb and index fingertips before stretching them out towards her. Pleasure blossomed out of the twin centres of her mounds. Their tongues met again, Blair tasting her orgasm.

They awkwardly stumbled through to her chaise lounge. Blair lay down, resting her head on the raised part. Her intense gaze watched Heather stand less than two feet from her and take off her clothes. Cufflinks, suit, shirt, trousers, underwear - all came off deliciously slowly, revealing a bit more of the lawyer. Heather lay down on top of her, their eyes level and inches apart.

"Do you do this with a lot of your former clients?" Blair asked coquettishly.

"Considering they're usually rich old men with four divorces, no."

They shared a brief laugh. Heather reached down between them and found Blair's still moist pussy. Her fingers brushed the inflamed lips, causing Blair to shudder. She slid down her body and took one leg over her shoulder, taking a taste before stuffing it with two fingers. She sawed in and out of her sopping pussy, spraying flecks of liquid with every out stroke.

"Turn around."

Heather looked up at her.

"I want to do it to you too."

"You don't have to," Heather said, massaging the inside of her pussy with her fingers.

"I want to."

She ceded and got up to stand at the raised head of the lounge. She got on her toes and leaned forward, nestling Blair's face neatly between her slender legs. Her head just about reached the engorged lips she was dying to dine on.

Heather placed her thumbs on either side of Blair's hood and spread her lips apart to see the clit peek out. She let the tip of her tongue prod it to life before fluttering her tongue on the fleshy mound.

She gasped as she herself felt Blair's tongue make first contact. There was no subtlety or technique in her movements, more of a flurry of swipes with her tongue. Left and right, up and down. She voraciously attacked every part of Heather's sex. Heather rode her face, feeling jolts of pleasure even as she returned the favour with interest.

Blair moaned, muffled by Heather's pussy on her face. They were like out of control freight trains on a collision course and neither could stop. Both of them knew they were heading for a beautiful crash of bodies and senses.

A vortex of pleasure consumed Heather's mind, seeing all things in a haze of red lust. It was finally too much. She felt like all of her erogenous zones had coalesced into a hyper sensitive singularity. Her nerves were on fire with the sensory riptide searing through her.

Finally, a fireworks display went off behind her eyes. Heather came hard enough to leave her gasping. She collapsed on top of Blair, panting laboriously while her body came to terms with the maelstrom it had endured.

For a few moments, neither of them could move. No one knew for sure which limbs belonged to whom. They lay there, softly breathing like a single entity. A tangle of sweaty body parts and two hearts that beat together.

* *

"Tomorrow, I was hoping we could get lunch."

Heather paused to form the words in her head. Blair propped her head up on her elbow and looked at Heather curled up on the bed.

"Maybe we need to give it a few days," came the sleepy reply from Heather.

"You and I just fucked all over your living room and you want to go slow on lunch," Blair guffawed.

"We both know it was an impulsive thing to do."

"It's just lunch."

"You're still vulnerable from Flo and I don't want to take advantage of you now. With your therapy, you will get better. Once you're in a better place, maybe then we can revisit this question."

"What happened to you, Heather? Why are you so afraid to let anyone in?"

Heather did not answer, smiling wistfully at Blair instead.

"I'm not ready to love someone. I don't think I even know how. Just because you can't see my scars doesn't make them any less real."

Blair stared at her for a few seconds before reaching out and running her fingers through Heather's auburn hair. She caressed her cheek and Heather kissed her hand.

"We'll figure it out. Eventually," Heather said.

* *

Heather made a stop on her way back from work. Blair needed art supplies. Her therapist had suggested she get back to her hobbies. Even as she carried the bag, she felt a growing sense of unease within her.

Blair was an emotional wreck. Blair was vulnerable. There was no denying this.

Yet, wasn't she also deserving of love?

While every fibre of her body told her it was a bad idea and would only cause her more pain, she did not know what to do. The indecision was crippling. Her body moved on auto-pilot to the elevator and up to Blair's temporary apartment. She took a moment to steady herself outside the door.

She opened the door to her apartment, wanting to surprise her.

"Blair?" she called out. No response. She put her bags down and went to her living room.

Immediately, her blood ran cold.

Blair sat on her balcony ledge with a bottle of wine in her hand and her legs lay lengthwise on the narrow ledge.

"Hi Heather," she said with a strange smile. She turned her head to reveal marks left behind by tears down her cheeks.

"Please get down from there."