by Tudor, M. E.
When they got in the room, Jean stripped the woman's clothes off her. The woman kept trying to kiss her, but Jean would move her face away. Jean pinned the woman on the bed. "I'm going to fuck you so hard," she promised.
"Yes," the woman gasped and opened her legs for Jean.
She was loose and wet. Jean could almost fit her whole fist into the woman's pussy. The woman screamed out when she came and flopped back on the bed. Straddling the woman's face, Jean said, "Your turn to pleasure me."
The woman stared at her. "I ain't eating your pussy."
"Yes, you are," Jean growled and shoved her pussy into the woman's face.
The woman bit Jean, who howled in shock and pain and jumped off the woman.
She slapped the woman across the face. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Pausing to check to make sure she wasn't bleeding, she continued, "You fucking bitch!" Jean screamed as she grabbed at the woman, who slid out of her grasp.
Running into the bathroom, the woman grabbed her cell phone. Once locked she was locked inside she made a phone call. Jean could hear her talking to someone. She picked up her clothes and started to get dressed, but suddenly the woman came out of the bathroom. "Don't get dressed," she soothed. "I'm sorry. I was just flipping out a little." She took Jean's hand and led her to the bed. "Let me try this again." She pushed Jean back on the bed and knelt before her.
Something in Jean's mind was telling her to get her clothes and get the hell out of the room, but when the woman's tongue slid into her pussy, she was lost in her arousal. The whole crazy night and the earlier events of the day had pushed Jean beyond reasoning.
The woman continued to pleasure Jean, her small tongue lapping at her. Jean raised her legs up onto the bed opening herself up more for the woman. She was in the throes of her orgasm when she thought she heard a knock at the door. The woman was suddenly gone, and before Jean could sit up, there was a man in the room.
"Oh fuck," Jean cried, jumping to her feet, only to be shoved back onto the bed.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" the man asked.
He leaned over Jean and she immediately recognized him. John Garrett. "What… what are you doing here?"
"The question is what are you doing here, Judge Carlisle?" He laughed harshly. "It would seem that I have you at a very serious disadvantage."
Jean tried to cover herself, but he wouldn't let her. "No wonder you always rule in favor of the women. You're a pussy lover!"
He called over his shoulder to the woman, "Get the handcuffs out of your bag, honey."
Looking from him to the woman, Jean realized that she had been set up. Damn, she knew better than to leave the bar with a strange woman. She was never this careless. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
John grabbed both of her hands and dragged her toward the corner of the bed. She tried to fight him, but he was much stronger. He handcuffed her to the frame of the bed next to the headboard, much like she had always done to Ashley, with the chain wrapped around the post and both of her wrists in the cuffs.
"Are you going to fuck her?" the woman asked. "She needs to get fucked by someone with a dick as big as yours."
"No," John sneered. "I've got something else I want from her. Don't I, Judge?"
"I'm not changing my ruling," Jean insisted stubbornly.
"Well, then," he said, pausing thoughtfully. "Let's see, what can I do to you that would be worse than raping you?" He paced around the room like he was thinking, but Jean knew he had already made up his mind what he was going to do, probably before he set this whole scheme into motion. "I think I'm going to leave you here, handcuffed naked to the bed. Now, you can scream so someone will come and help you, and then, of course, you'll have to explain how you got handcuffed to the bed."
He paced some more. "No, no, that's not going to be good enough. I've got a better idea." He turned to the woman. "Honey, I want you to go over and straddle the judge's chest." The woman did as she was told and he began taking pictures of the two of them with his phone.
Jean turned her head trying to hide her face, but she could only move so far.
"Yeah, I've got you now," he laughed and pulled the woman off the bed. "Get dressed." He grabbed Jean's purse and went through it finding the hundred in cash that she usually kept on her. He went through all the pockets of her pants and coat finding what little bit of change she had in them.
"I think I'm going to give you until tomorrow morning to think about changing your ruling or these pictures will be going to the news stations." He led the woman out the door and shut it behind him.
Jean let out a scream in frustration; she was so fucked. She looked over at the phone on the night stand next to her, but who would she call? Her arms were already killing her and the blood was pounding in her head. Taking stock of how tight the handcuffs were on her wrists, she realized that she did have a little maneuvering room in them. She slowly moved herself off the bed, carefully turning her wrists so that she didn't break them. She was on her knees next to the bed now. She looked toward the table and chair next to the window. Her pants had been unceremoniously thrown to the floor when John was looking through them for money. Hopefully, her cell phone was still in the pocket. She stretched her legs toward her pants. She could just barely catch them with one of her toes.
She began to carefully inch the pants closer with her toes until she could grab them with her feet. It seemed to take forever, but she finally got them to her legs. She continued to scoot them closer to her face, stretching and straining her neck, trying to get the pants to her neck. Her arms and shoulders ached from the awkward position, but she couldn't stop. She had to get the cell phone to her hands.
Finally, she was able to pull the pants with her teeth. She could feel the phone in the back pocket. She got on her knees, being careful not to dump the phone before she got it to her hands Jean kneeled by the bed and pulled the phone with her teeth toward her hands. Finally, she got her the pants to her hands and got the phone out. She cried out with joy, but then realized that she had still had no one to call. Who could she call for help? How could she explain this to anyone?
She started to cry, and then she looked at the keypad on her phone. The number three jumped out at her. Ashley. She started to hit the three to speed dial Ashley's number, but stopped. What if she'd changed her number? What if she didn't answer? Jean chewed her lip. She didn't have a choice. Ashley was the only one who could help her.
Chapter Six
Ashley had spent almost two hours in the tub downing an entire bottle of wine after that horrible day. First, she had been terrified about seeing Jean, and when she did, she had been just as flustered as she had expected. And then, there was the whole thing in the bathroom. Yes, Jean kneeing her in the groin had hurt like a bitch, but she had also registered the touch of Jean's body against hers.
Fucking bitch, she just had to get the last word in, Ashley thought angrily.
Mary insisted she bring her cell phone into the bathroom with her, probably afraid Ashley was going to drown herself, or something. Ashley laughed. She had never met a woman that she would die for, but then Jean hurt her emotionally more than any other woman she’d known.
She laid her head back against the tub. What was really sad was that she still wanted to be with Jean again. Seeing her today, stirred feelings that Ashley didn’t want to admit she had for the woman. Ashley knew she was drawn to Jean in a bizarre way when it came to all the rough sex and she was more attracted to Jean than she had realized. Seeing her today made her want to beg Jean to take her back, but she wasn't doing that. She was going to find someone who she could have a real relationship with, someone she could kiss and hold hands with. She might even try to find a job at a different law firm so she wouldn't have to worry about getting caught out with a girlfriend.
Mary and Jackie were still in that honeymoon stage where they never wanted to go out anywhere. Mary had always been a homebody, and Ashley suspected that Jackie was the same way. Of course, being that w
ay, they were less likely to run into someone from the office.
Ashley, on the other hand, loved to go out to bars, restaurants, and theaters. She wanted to be able to go out with a girlfriend and do all those things.
Her phone playing a song about pain snapped Ashley out of her thoughts. That was The Judge's ring tone. Why on earth would Jean be calling her and at ten o'clock at night on a Tuesday, especially after everything that had happened? She stared at the phone, and then snatched it up angrily, “What the hell do you want?"
"Ashley!" Jean cried, “Thank God you answered."
Ashley pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at. Judge Jean Carlisle, the ice queen was crying. "What…" Ashley started to ask but Jean cut her off.
"I need your help," she cried, "I…I can't tell you everything over the phone, but this couple played me and now I'm handcuffed naked to a bed in the Carlton."
Standing up and almost falling, Ashley practically shouted, "Are you jerking my chain just to get me to come out there?"
"I swear, Ashley. I swear I'm telling you the truth. There was no one else I could call. Please, please, I'm begging you. Please come help me."
Ashley got out of the tub and grabbed a towel. She knew this had to be serious. Jean never used her real name when she talked to her on the phone and she would never beg for help, or even use the word please. "What room are you in?"
"Eight eleven," Jean said with another sob. "They took the room key. They said they’d come back in the morning. I'll tell you everything when you get here. But, please, please come right away."
"I'll be right there," Ashley assured her and started to hang up.
"Please don't hang up, Ashley. If I drop the phone, I don't know if I'll be able to get to it to call you back. I'm so afraid. I'm afraid they will come back, or worse, send someone else back for me."
Ashley was panicking now. This was not the woman of steel who loved to torment her. She had never heard Jean like this. "I'll stay on the phone," Ashley promised. She grabbed her clothes and quickly dressed. "I'm going to get Mary and her girlfriend to come help. We might need the back up."
“Okay,” Jean agreed with obvious reluctance.
Mary and Jackie were sitting on the couch watching television. "I need you your help," Ashley blurted, rushing into the living room, "Jean is in trouble. We have to go help her."
"Jean?" Mary asked with a raised eyebrow, "Like Judge Jean?"
"Yes, come on I'll fill you guys in as much as I can on the road," Ashley insisted and grabbed her jacket.
Mary and Jackie got up, put their shoes on, and grabbed their coats. The three of them hurried down to the parking lot and jumped into the front seat of Ashley's car. Ashley started telling Mary and Jackie what was going on as she started the car and took off. She spoke into the phone, "Jean, you still there?"
"Yes," Jean replied with a sob.
Mary looked at Ashley. "This is bad. Something really bad has to have happened to make her cry."
"I know," Ashley agreed. She raced across town to the familiar hotel and encouraged Jean to stay calm.
When they got there, Ashley told Jean, "We're here. We'll be right up."
Okay," Jean answered quietly.
When they entered the hotel Ashley stopped both women just inside the door. "Jackie, I'm not sure who we are looking for, but can you stay down here and keep an eye out for anyone who might look suspicious?"
Jackie nodded, "Sure." She took her phone out of her jacket pocket, "If she gives you guys a description, call me so I'll know what I'm looking for."
Ashley nodded, and then took Mary by the hand. She approached the counter. Cedric, a young, black, gay man who worked the night desk, and whom Ashley had befriended when she and Jean used to meet here, came up to the counter. "Well, there you are Sugar. I was wondering why your lady friend came in here with that other woman. I guess they were doing a different kind of business because that woman left with a man a little while after they got here."
"Really?" Ashley asked. "What did they look like?"
"The woman reminded me a lot of you, but not near as pretty," he said smiled, "The guy, he looked like a weasel, except with a badger head. Tall, dark brown hair, potbelly, and just mean looking."
Ashley frowned. Strangely, that kind of reminded her of John Garrett. Surely, he didn't follow the judge here. Could he have known about her going to the bar? There was something seriously wrong going on here. Ashley turned and motioned for Jackie to come over to the counter. "She's in room eight eleven. You got an extra key for me?"
"She left one just like she always does," he smiled and then winked.
"My friend and I are going to go up and visit with her for a little bit. Please tell my other friend here," she explained, pointing to Jackie, "about the guy and point him out if he comes back in, okay?"
"You got it, girl," Cedric assured her.
"Come on," Ashley took Mary by the hand again. They waited for the elevator. When it finally came down, Ashley and Mary got in.
"What do you think happened?" Mary asked as they rode up to the eighth floor.
"I'm not sure. It's not like The Judge to pick up someone at the bar and bring them the hotel. She told me when she brought me here the first time that she only does this with people she feels completely safe with."
"Do you think she might be as flipped out about seeing you today as you were about her?"
Ashley blushed, "That would be sweet, but I find it hard to believe. She never said she cared about me. It was always about the pleasure we gave each other."
"You might be surprised," Mary remarked. She studied Ashley for a minute, and then marveled, "You call getting a beating with a leather whip, being pleasured?"
Blushing more deeply, Ashley shrugged and looked up at the lights counting off the floor numbers, "It's hard to explain."
Finally, they reached the eighth floor. Ashley stepped out of the elevator first and looked up and down the hall. She motioned for Mary to follow her. They rushed to room eight eleven. Ashley slid the door key card in and unlocked the door. She was still holding the phone in her hand and realized that Jean had heard the entire elevator conversation. Well, it was too late to be worried about that now.
Ashley pushed the door open and gasped at what she saw. Jean was completely naked, handcuffed to the bed with her arms stretched awkwardly over her head, and her head pressed to her shoulder where she was holding the phone. Her body shook with her sobs.
"Oh my God!" Ashley cried, dropping the room key, her phone, and her purse. She rushed to Jean, got on her knees next to her, and wrapped her arms around her, "Oh my God, Jean!" She rubbed Jean’s arms, already a bluish red from lack of circulation, and pulled her up onto her knees.
"Mary, hand me my purse."
Mary grabbed the purse off the floor and handed it to Ashley. Ashley dug through it until she found the extra handcuff key that she always kept with her. She unlocked the cuffs around Jean's wrists. Jean immediately wrapped her arms around Ashley's neck and sobbed even harder.
"Shhhhh," Ashley cooed, "I've got you. It's going to be okay."
Jean shook her head and sobbed, "It's not. It's not. It's never going to be okay again."
Ashley leaned back so she could look at Jean's face, "Let's get you dressed and out of here, and then you can tell us what happened."
Jean was so shaken that she was having a hard time getting dressed. Ashley and Mary both helped her. Then they searched the whole room and made certain there was nothing of Jean's left behind.
