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Two days after being released from the hospital, Taylor was finally allowed out of her house by her parents. Not for a Hunt, of course, that would be ridiculous, but instead for a normal jog. Not entirely because they wanted to, but frankly because they didn't think they could stop her any longer, given the fact that she'd been climbing the walls almost since the moment that she got home. Something that was attributed to her general nature and a desire to not feel stifled, which was all to the better as far as she was concerned. For one thing, it happened to be quite true, and for another it provided a nice cover explanation for the foremost reason in Taylor's mind: the fact that she'd spent much of the two days almost painfully aroused and deeply distracted by that fact.
To be fair, a bit of that had started after the spanking she'd given Amy in the dungeon. Brief though it was, it had sparked something in her that she had spent the better part of a week trying to ignore, because exploring how such a 'spark' in the hospital was a less than spectacular idea. Even if that thought also made her feel things.
But while it might have started with that moment, reading through the information and tutorials on the Loyalty Index portion of the system is what had truly empowered and hastened it, because they had confirmed something she had suspected the moment she had first woken up in the hospital and read the descriptions of certain skills: that The System was an irredeemable, kinky, shameless, horny pervert. Why else would it tell her to have sex with people, to dominate them, as a method of making herself and the other person more powerful? It was baiting her, she knew it was baiting her, and thanks to Amy's reaction both that night and when she left the hospital, she knew that it would probably succeed -at least partially- too. And it probably wouldn't have to work too hard, either. Not after the hesitant, semi-flirtatious texts that she and Amy had been exchanging since Victoria had hustled them into exchanging phone numbers, and not since she'd masturbated three times since getting home at the memory of spanking Amy and the mental image of doing it again in a very different environment and circumstance.
She'd already found herself considering it. After all, if she and Amy would both get stronger, if they both enjoyed it, then what harm could come from a little bit of fun? Hadn't she, not so long ago, been lamenting that no one would ever want to have sex with her? Well, now someone did, or at least seemed to, so who was she to ignore an answer to her prayers and lamentations?
At any rate, she needed to clear her mind a bit and feel like less of a slave to her passions, so she was going to go out for a couple of hours, do some jogging and some shopping. God knew that she needed more clothes than she currently had, because as much as she loved her sister, she really wasn't sure that she was comfortable wearing the clothes that Rose had left behind when her trip to Japan had begun.
Especially her panties.
So now, here she was, stepping off the bus onto the Boardwalk and feeling flattered and anxious alike that she was -and had been, since she'd left her house- receiving no small amount of attention from the people around her. Positive attention, at that, which was something of a shift in her life. People taking notice of her for her looks, even wearing ill-fitted clothes like she currently was, was a new -brand new, this was the second time it happened, with Amy and Victoria being the first- and enjoyable experience. It was also something that she wasn't used to, and she was torn between preening and basking in the attention and scurrying away as fast as humanely possible.
She settled for the middle ground of walking at a brisk pace, and within a few minutes had devised a new method of entertaining herself, a new little game to play when the double takes and the lingering looks entered the double digits: could she spot the exact moment that they noticed her? Sometimes it was a slow process, a glance that turned into a stare, sometimes a quick snap of the eyes and an almost-but-not-quite-cool recovery. It was easier with the younger guys, who didn't pretend to be subtle most of the time and utterly failed at it when they did, and with the girls, who ranged from 'judgmental bitches' to 'admiration' to 'shit she might be into me'.
It was the adults that were a little bit stranger. Some of them were close enough to her own age that it wasn't totally creepy, and catching a second glance was flattering on some level no matter who it was coming from, but frankly she could do without the people four times her own age staring at her like she was piece of meat. She could definitely do without those that tried to strike up conversation with her when she took breaks or had to slow down due to the crowd, or even simply as she passed them by. Even the younger ones, the ones her age, because quite frankly her love (?) life was complicated enough as it was. The whole reason she was out here in the first place was because she was trying to get some space from hormonal desire, not to find herself buried in the midst of even more.
So perhaps it was to no surprise that she veered off from her planned route and into the largest of the city's parks, the winding trails cutting through what amount to a small forest more than a little familiar to her. And why wouldn't it be? It was one of her favorite haunts and always had been, a place where people could have all the privacy they wanted yet paradoxically still be in public.
And now she was thinking about bringing Amy out here, for a nice walk. After a movie, maybe, just strolling along and listening to the crickets in a nice summer evening. Chatting, laughing, getting more used to one another. Would that make it a date? It certainly sounded like that would make it a date, and she certainly felt the stereotypical things that the very suggestion was 'supposed' to make her feel. Would it end in a kiss? More? She'd read plenty of books that ended up with 'more', and she couldn't help but eye the trees around her speculatively, evaluating without much thought, just how much cover they would provide. How much privacy, and quite suddenly she found herself making her way to a particularly well-hidden tree, running her hands over it and picturing a repeat of a certain event with a certain someone.
Of Amy bending over, clothes tight against her ass, or better yet her ass entirely bare, her hands pressed against this same rough bark as Taylor spanked her. The sharp sound of every blow cutting through the air, the muffled noises that would spill from Amy's lips, the adrenaline and the excitement of the act and the potential for being discovered…
...God, the worst part was that she couldn't even pretend that she didn't want it, not now. Even in her imagination, Amy didn't struggle. She let her head fall forward, let Taylor take control, let herself get lost. Taylor shut her eyes and pressed her forehead against the tree, breathing in the scent of bark and grass and her own sweat and maybe, maybe, a little of Amy's shampoo just as she remembered it. She couldn't…she wasn't going to…! God, no, she wasn't going to masturbate in public, no matter what she was fantasizing about, but the heat throbbing through her insides told her it wouldn't take much if she tried. God, is this what normal teens felt like all the time, the ones that didn't have to repress their wants, their needs, because they weren't popular or fuckable or high enough rank that people didn't care what they looked like?
Growling in frustration, she darted off, taking advantage of the thick tree cover and her much-improved Dexterity Statistic to flit from branch to branch, letting the exertion and the effort required to avoid being spotted by random passers-by put any such fantasies out of her mind for the moment, or at least the images that they brought. God, she'd come out here to get away from this, ditched the Boardwalk to get away from it, but it felt like everywhere she looked made her think of Amy, think of what had happened and what might happen and what a part of her really, really wanted to have happen. She needed something more, something to distract her, something to take her attention away from…
Her ears pricked. Raised voices some distance away. Two people that sounded about her age, a man and a woman, and it sounded like it was coming from a portion of the park that she knew from personal experience -though not the 'fun kind'- was popular with couples that were looking to get a little frisky thanks to how isolated and thickly-foliaged it was. Unfortunately, from the sound of things, it didn't sound like they were getting frisky. No, they were fighting, and she hesitated for only a moment -it wasn't her business to get involved, she wasn't a cop- before frowning and moving towards them anyway. After all, it was the most isolated part of the park, one that was popular only at night and on the weekends, and she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she saw a terrible story on the news because she ignored whatever was going on.
The closer she got, the more clear the voices became, and not just because of the shrinking distance. The argument seemed to be intensifying, and her frown turned to a scowl. It sounded to her like the boy was getting a little too frisky, and the girl wasn't willing to do anything in public -for a given value of the word- like their current location. And it sounded like it wasn't the first time he hadn't taken a hint, either, a hint he was still not taking in spite of the fact that it was no longer a 'hint' and something more of a blatant statement to his face that his girlfriend wasn't remotely interested in having sex in broad daylight in a public park, regardless of how many bushes were in the vicinity.
She finally came to a halt, crouching somewhat precariously on the not-quite-thick-enough branch of a black locust, and looked down at the arguing couple. The young man looked exactly the way she had expected him to: handsome with an edge of rogueish, dashing flair, a eminently-slappable smirk on his lips and an ill light in his eyes, well-dressed in fancy clothes that were obviously tailored to him and wearing at least a few thousand dollars in ostentatious jewelry. It was almost painfully stereotypical, really, and the fact that his girlfriend was a beautiful, blue-eyed blonde dressed in well-made but far more casual clothes with more subtle displays of wealth was interesting. She didn't look like a typical gold-digger, and God knew Taylor had seen plenty of both sexes sniffing around her sister in the past, so it wasn't like she didn't have some experience with those sorts of people. Not to mention…
Her thoughts cut off as the boy -Eugene- grabbed the girl -Paige, it seemed- by the wrist and pulled her close, spinning the both of them around to press her against the nearest tree in spite of the way she squirmed and protested. And now that she was watching it happen, her Observation was more than capable of the task that was discerning if she was playing hard to get and faking her protests, or if she was legitimately unhappy with the situation.
The result was clear even before the girl, in her efforts to move her neck away from his 'amorous' attentions, met Taylor's eyes with her own, showing Taylor all the displeasure and dislike and, oh yes, growing fear in their depths.
Taylor was moving before she had a conscious thought, dropping out of her tree perch and crossing the distance separating her and the pair -she certainly didn't want to call them a couple, under the circumstances- to wrap her hand around the nape of Eugene's neck in a grip of iron.
"Let her go."
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Paige McAbee was really starting to regret coming out with Eugene today. Frankly, she was starting to regret dating him in the first place, because that same passionate creativity that had drawn her to him at the start -and made the sex so much fun- was the passion that seemed to be driving him to try and run her life and her career. And, rather more importantly at this particular moment, seemed to drive him towards ignoring her when she said no, even in situations where her no actually meant no.
And no, she didn't want to fuck in the middle of the day in the park. Especially not without talking about it and planning for it safely. Just because she had said she was kind of turned on by the idea of exhibitionism and sex in a public space, didn't mean she wanted to go out the next day to one of the most popular places in town at a busy time of day and hope for the best. God, if she didn't know better, she'd say Eugene wanted them to get caught, but even for him that would be a step past believable.
She'd had a bad feeling when he brought her out here, but he'd pointed out that this was a good starting point, private but still 'public', someplace to get her comfortable with the idea, and that had been true enough. And if things had been kept to making out and a bit of heavy petting, maybe even a blowjob or something, she'd have been fine with it. But that hadn't been what he'd gone for, and after the bare minimum of foreplay -which had felt performative and perfunctory at the time, and now she knew it had been- he'd started trying to push things in another direction. When he'd pushed her up the tree, had her at his mercy, she'd known she had two options: first, actually use her Talent or her Hunter abilities to break free and invite a whole heap of trouble down on herself, or let him do what he wanted.
Then she'd caught sight of the green-eyed shadow in the trees, watching them from on high, and though she hadn't had the wherewithal to even mouth a plea for help, the observer seemed to recognize the situation for what it was all the same. They'd dropped from the tree without a sound and crossed the yards separating them from she and Eugene in the time it took Paige to blink, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him away slightly as a low, fierce growl -contralto, the singer part of Paige noted absently- gave him a command that was as much a threat as it was an order.
Eugene stiffened immediately, eyes blowing wide, the shock of it sending a spike of deep fear through him so powerfully Paige could see it through his eyes, and his free hand tried to scrabble back to grapple with the person that now had him in her grip. Instead, he found his wrist captured and his arm bent ruthlessly up behind his back, high enough that he snarled in pain at the strain to his shoulder.
"I said, let her go." the stranger repeated, punctuating command with even more pressure, and his hand leapt off of her wrist like it had been scalded. The stranger pivoted smoothly, bending him at the waist with the leverage of her grip and the power of the smooth, rippling athleticism that Paige could see through her tee-shirt and sending him stumbling away. In the same movement, the stranger placed herself between he and Paige, her stance loose but ready in a way that spoke of experience in fighting, and she realized quite suddenly that if this turned into a fight, Eugene would end up far worse off of it.
The stranger —no, the girl, not much older than Paige herself, maybe even younger— stayed planted between them, the heels of her battered trainers biting into soft mulch and the broad, ready set of her shoulders belying the rest of her. Not that there was much "rest of her" to inspect, given that her clothes were practically painted on at the moment. They clearly not meant for her and it was just as clear she'd been doing a good amount of exercise not long ago, her build and body clearly defined through the sweat-damp cotton, and her face…there was something sharp and familiar about it, a flash of memory from the news, maybe, but Paige couldn't place it. Green eyes, sharp jaw, lips set in a line that gave nothing away except the intent to ruin anyone who tried to challenge her, all haloed by black hair that looked to have grown a lot in a short amount of time and was begging for a proper styling.
The girl…her rescuer, had to be a Hunter, Paige realized with a jolt. It wasn't just the physical presence, though she had enough of that to spare. It wasn't the way that she stood, either, the easy and confidant stance of a person who knew their way around a fight. It was the way she recognized, instinctively, that there was something more about the other girl, it was the way that she remembered how fast the stranger had moved to answer her silent plea. It was the way Eugene, blustering douchebag that he was, seemed to be hesitating and fearful, unsure of his next move. For the briefest moment, Paige wondered if she was about to watch her boyfriend get his face caved in by a complete stranger. The prospect didn't bother her as much as it maybe should have, especially not after all this.
Then he bared his teeth and tossed a glare over the stranger's shoulder at Paige, eyes promising the sort of punishment that she wouldn't enjoy in the least, the sort of glare that was full of vitriol and blame. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" The edge in his voice was so brittle that Paige knew he was scared of the girl between them, scared of the situation he had found himself in, and was desperately trying to both disguise that fact and regain his footing. "You touch me again and I'll— I'll call the cops on you! You think you can just assault people, bitch?!"
"Go ahead, I'd love to have a chat with them, bitch. Especially when I tell them about what you were trying to do, because it sure as hell looked like you were assaulting this girl to me." the stranger's voice was cool, trending towards cold, with an edge of disdain that Paige oddly found attractive, in spite of literally everything about the current situation, and Eugene's expression darkened.
"She's my girl, and not that it's any of your business, but she's a kinky bitch. She like that sort of thing, you know? Fooling around in public was her idea, so why don't you get your nose out of other peoples' bedrooms?" he ground out, clearly seeing what he saw as an opportunity, and Paige's heart caught in her throat and sank to the bottom of her stomach at the same time. Would the girl believe him? Paige hadn't said anything yet, hadn't asked for help or said thank you, so would it look like…?
"Even if she is your girl, that doesn't mean shit if she's not into what's going on, and frankly the idea that a girl like her is dating a prick like you tells me she's either soft-hearted and taking pity on you, or is holding on to something that isn't there anymore." the ravenette dismissed bluntly, cutting off Paige's potential panic, as she folded her arms beneath her breasts, straining her top a bit. Unsurprisingly, Eugene's eyes dropped to them for a moment, and Paige couldn't entirely restrain her scoff of disgust. Figures that he would be too distracted by tits, another girl's tits, to notice the insult. Unperturbed, the girl continued. "And she could be kinky as hell, for all I know. Doesn't matter. Anyone can tell she wasn't actually into it, that things were going further than she liked, and she wanted it to stop. Which means you're either a shitty boyfriend and a shitty dominant because you can't recognize that fact, or you're an even terrible person in addition to being a shitty boyfriend and dom because you were ignoring her to try and get yourself off. One of them makes you a dick that needs to shape up. The other makes me want to hit you, hard. Pick one."
Eugene didn't seem to like either option, for pretty obvious reasons, but the way his jaw twitched and a vein started standing out at his temple made it clear he knew he'd lost the argument. He glared at the stranger a second longer, but when she didn't so much as blink -just tilted her head and waited like she could do this all day, which she probably could- before glaring past her at Paige.
"Fine, we'll talk about this at home. Let's go, Paige." he growled out, and Paige hesitated for a long moment. She loved Eugene, she really did…or she thought that she had. The stranger's word about holding on to something that wasn't there anymore had struck a chord in her, something that she wondered if she had noticed but ignored out of faith and love and habit. Did she want to go with Eugene? Did she want to give him another chance? "I said come, Paige!"
The barked order, delivered not with firm confidence but angry petulance, made the decision for her. "Go fuck yourself, Eugene. I've stayed with you because I loved you, but I told you I wasn't ready to do anything like that in public, I told you I wanted more time to think about it. But you just couldn't wait, you just had to have what you wanted."
"You like it when I boss you around, bitch! You always say no, and whine, and struggle, but you love it when I make you do it anyway!" he baulked and barked in the same moment, and she shook her head hard.
"I did like it, Eugene." she took a deep breath, stepping up next to her rescuer, enjoying in some deeper part of herself as the other girl tensed protectively. "I like it when you talked dirty to me, when you spanked me, when you humiliated me and tied me up and led me around on a leash, but I agreed to all those things. I was okay with them, I wanted them. I didn't agree to this, I wasn't okay with this, and I wasn't sure I wanted it. That's the difference, and if you can't recognize that, maybe she's right about you being a crappy dom. Maybe I should have safe-worded, made it clear that I really did mean no, and that's on me, but right now? I'm not sure that you would have listened. Because I've told you no about this before, and you promised me that we were just coming out here to try some small stuff. You lied to my face, and if you're lying to me to try and make a decision for me, how can I trust you to stop when I need you too. So we're done. I'm not your girlfriend, I'm not your sub, I'm not your 'money whore'. I'm not your anything anymore. So, let me say it again: go fuck yourself. And get your shit out of my house while you're at it."
She expected Eugene to explode, or maybe reach out for one last, pathetic grab, but he just froze, jaw slack, the red draining out of his cheeks. Paige's chest felt tight, her pulse throbbing in her wrists and ears, loud enough that she almost missed the way the girl in front of her shifted her stance slightly, like she was bracing for a fight that Paige could see wasn't going to come. Instead, Eugene just snorted, turning away in a sudden, jerky motion that made his shoulders seem smaller than before, and stormed off through the underbrush, his footsteps loud and ugly. She watched him go, waiting for some last barb or a whimper or plea, but it didn't come, and she wasn't sure how to feel about that.
It was only then that Paige realized how hard she was shaking, her hands tingling, sweat prickling along her lower back and under her bra. She let out a breath, only aware now that she'd been holding it, and with it came a flood of relief and a tumbling torrent of giddy, hysterical laughter. She doubled over, hands on her knees, trying to get her breath back, her chest hitching uncontrollably at the absurdity of it all. When she looked up, half-recoved and half-fearful, the stranger hadn't moved. She stood planted and patient, not even smirking or gloating or looking at her strangely, just...waiting. Holding the moment open, like she was ready to catch Paige if she fell, or hold her if she needed comfort.
"Uh, thanks, miss." Paige said, and winced. It sounded weak, but what else was she supposed to say? "I…I'm really sorry. I didn't want to, didn't mean, to make a scene like that."
"You didn't!" the girl replied, voice softer now but with a steady edge, a firm one, that would have done a lot to stifle any argument Paige would have wanted to make on that front. "He made the scene, then he made it worse. You just got stuck dealing with it." She looked Paige over carefully, scrutinizing her, then softened just a shade. "Are you okay? Any injuries? Did he hurt you?"
"N-no, I've definitely had worse." Paige denied, shaking her head. She hesitated for a moment, before scoffing softly and smiling a bit sardonically at the other girl. There wasn't any point in trying to hide anything or play dumb, so she might as well be blunt and honest about things and put a little humor into the situation. "I've had much stronger things around my wrists than his hands. They did a better job of keeping me still too, no matter what was going on."
"A-ah, yeah, I'll just bet." her savior stuttered briefly, cheeks staining, and Paige felt her own cheeks stain faintly at the sudden pulse of heat that flashed through the other girl's green eyes, and both bit their bottom lips in the same moment, before a thought visibly occurred to the ravenette and her eyes widened in alarm. "Hey, if he's going to your place to get his shit, he could wreck it or steal something. Shouldn't you, like, be there and call the cops to make sure?"
"Oh my God, you're right! I didn't even think about it, fuck—" Paige cut herself off, already fumbling in her jeans for her phone. Her thumb trembled over the power button, nearly dropping it, then unlocked with a smudge and started stabbing at the screen for her most recent texts. "Okay, okay, this is fine, I can just…"
She found the right name and stabbed the call button. The other end picked up almost immediately, and she cut the other person off before they could even get started.
"Listen, Micky, it's me. I need you to get our security guys, and the cops, over to my place right now. I kicked Eugene to the curb, and I don't want that fucker thinking he's clever and wrecking my shit or stealing it." she reeled off, knowing that her agent would do exactly that via his ever-present assistant even as the conversation continued, which it absolutely would. There was no way he'd let it go without a word of response.
"Consider it done. I'll head over with them personally. If I have my way, he won't leave with much more than the clothes on his back and his Christmas and Birthday gifts." came the prompt response, the sound of snapping fingers faintly echoing over the phone as he summoned Samantha to his side. A few moments of murmuring, muffled by his hand over the reciever, followed, before he came back loud and clear. "Talk to me, Paige, what are we looking at? Damage control?"
Paige glanced sideways at her rescuer, half-grinning and half-wincing as the other girl raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking up slightly at the corners. "It's not a press incident or anything, probably, just me and Eugene having one last spat. He tried pushing some new boundaries, I wasn't into it, and it got a little physical. No marks, no drama. You know how he is." She could hear Micky's sigh, one that probably vibrated his entire weirdly skinny chest, and prayed he didn't go off on a tangent about standard deviations or whatever the hell he'd been reading lately. She loved him, honestly she did, but he was so weird sometimes.
"You're okay, though?"
She licked her lips, buying herself some time to think, and snuck another glance at the girl beside her. Tall, unbothered, arms crossed under her chest, like she wore armor made of confidence and comfort. That did something sharp and complicated under Paige's sternum, and it took her a minute to answer. "Yeah…yeah, I'm good. Someone got involved, I'm with them. I just want to make sure he doesn't get the last laugh." she hesitated for a moment, eyes searching those of her rescuer -Jesus, she needed her name!- and made a snap decision, toes curling anxiously in her ankle-boots. "Listen, I'm going to be out the rest of the afternoon, I've got some new plans. Keep Eugene under control, and don't worry about any card activity. It's on me, alright?"
"What are you up to, Paige?"
"Saying thank you. Like I said, don't worry about it. I'll call you later."
She ended the call with a firm tap of her thumb, almost wishing it was still the era of flip-phones to get a bit of extra satisfaction from the act, before smiling at her companion and offering her hand. "So! I'm Paige, which you might have picked up from chuckle-fuck. What's your name, Miss Hero?"
"Taylor. Nice to meet you Paige." the now-named Taylor smiled back warmly, taking her hand and shaking it with gentle firmness, long and slender fingers easily wrapping around her own smaller limb, and Paige let the touch linger for a long moment before breaking it. "So, you said something about plans? Do you need me to walk you somewhere? I'm not sure I trust that guy not to be waiting for you in here somewhere, I'd like to at least get you back to the Boardwalk."
"You're my new plans, Taylor. I owe you for your help there. If you hadn't have stepped in, I'd have had to really hurt him to stop things, and that would have led to a lot of trouble for me and my…my boss." Paige told her, stumbling slightly as she almost said 'label'. She didn't know if Taylor knew who she was and was ignoring it, or was genuinely ignorant, but she found herself oddly reluctant to say the word regardless. "So, I'm going to spend the rest of the day doing nice things for you as a thank you."
"You don't need to do that, I don't care about a reward. I did it because you needed help." Taylor refuted instantly, and Paige smirked at the reflexive altruism, the genuine intensity of it and the way it was done without an instant of hesitation or reluctance. She'd gone years without meeting someone new like that, outside of a few groupies with anything like that earnestness, and not a single one of them didn't expect something for it in return. That was… Well, she wouldn't say "rare," not in the way of people talking about rare albums or rare colorways, but it made an impression. She wanted to make a lasting one back, to pay it forward and make sure that, whatever happened next, Taylor would remember her as more than just a damsel-in-distress.
She shored up her smile and twirled some hair around a finger, a nervous and flirtatious habit that did nothing to settle the ridiculously anxious energy zapping through her, then looked Taylor up and down. "Yeah, but it's not about reward. It's about gratitude. And anyway, you're bailing me out again if you walk me back to the Boardwalk. So lead on, miss hero, because I'm not going to take no for an answer!"
Taylor…didn't look like she knew how to deal with the current situation, and looked more than a little worried for Paige at the same time. Probably wondering whether she should be pushing Paige to call Micky back for a pick-up instead of letting her emotions get the best of her, but she kept her mouth shut. Probably out of nervousness that Paige would fall apart if she didn't do something positive right now, which was absolutely what would happen. Going home and being alone and angrily depressed was not what she needed at the moment. She needed to put a little bit of joy into the world, to make someone feel good and in doing so make herself feel a little bit better, and the fact that she had her hero on hand to be the other half of the equation just made the decision easy for her.
Besides, she was kind of looking forward to dressing Taylor up a little. Why she was wearing clothes that weren't made for her, or were even her size, Paige didn't know. But she had the means to fix it, she had an eye for fashion, and she had the desire to improve things. And that is exactly what she intended to do.
[1] https://www.patreon.com/c/astandupphilosopher
[2] https://discord.gg/3VKjmXBYY8