Physical Education

by Bacio, Louisa

  Ohio? Of all places. In the middle of the States. Something about what Reed was saying nagged at her memory. There was something about Ohio that just didn’t seem right.

  “Why Ohio? I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t hear a lot about it, but across the U.S., almost 50,000 people each year are trafficked, which means being sold for sex or forced to work in fields, restaurants, sweatshops,” Reed explained.

  “Ohio actually has some of the highest amount of trafficking and people sold as sex slaves,” he continued. “They’re close to the border in Canada, and they also have some of the most ambiguous human trafficking laws, which means they get to do these types of activities there and get away with it.”

  It was hard for Amanda to wrap her mind around the issue. She’d read and heard about human trafficking in other countries, but thinking about it happening, on such a widespread scale, right here in her own backyard? That seemed impossible.

  “And the instructor, Ralph? He was part of this ring?” she asked. “That’s how they targeted us? How they got us?”

  “It seems like it so far,” Reed answered, honestly, “but there seems to be more going on that just him. We haven’t cracked the whole case just yet, but we will.

  “I promise you that.”

  The water shifted as Reed pulled her onto his lap, kissing her neck, the underside of her chin, taking her lips. His sense of urgency seeming to grow.

  “I thought I’d lost you, too,” he said.

  His intense kisses stopped the possibility of saying anything in return. Her mind grasped at a reply, only to be chased away with thoughts and feelings of pleasure, and the growing member beneath her bottom. At least there was no hiding that Reed felt a very real attraction for her.

  Again, Reed always made her feel safe, secure and loved. Now she knew that it was all part of his duty to serve and protect. But, within his arms, with her eyes closed, she still felt pretty special. Maybe for right now. Maybe for tonight, she could take in all those good feelings and make herself feel even better.

  The door to the room opened, and a woman came in carrying a tray of food and wine. She set it on a table near the tub without making eye contact with either of them.

  “Can I get you anything else?” she asked, eyes cast down, and her hands clasped in front of her.

  Amanda made a move to get off Reed’s lap, but he held her there tightly. Now that he had her, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Will you turn on the jets?” Reed replied, “and hand me the remote please? I forgot to do it before getting in the water.”

  The server opened a panel on the wall that Amanda hadn’t noticed before and pushed a button. The spa’s jets erupted on all sides. A light jingling sound accompanied the woman removing a small remote control device from its hook. She brought it over to Reed.

  “Here you go, sir. Will there be anything else?”

  “No, we should be fine, Elsie. Thank you.”

  Elsie, Amanda thought. Reed certainly seemed to know a lot about the school, its happenings and the employees.

  Again, it was his job.

  “Now, where were we?” he asked, taking her lips in his again.

  His tongue teased her lower lip, and she opened her mouth to allow him entry. He swirled his tongue around hers, building up the sensations. They stayed like that for a few minutes, tight within his arms, kissing, until they finally broke for a few deep breaths.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said. He released her with one arm and used it to bring her hair out of her face, slicking back the wet strands. He looked deep within her eyes, as if searching her soul for secrets, and exhaled a loud breath of his own. “You must be starving. Let’s get some sustenance in you.”

  Amanda was just about to decline when her stomach growled in reply. What was it with her today? She was cold, but didn’t realize that she was cold. On the verge of crying, without knowing it, and now obviously past the point of hungry. She had to chalk it up to emotional overload, but really she had to wonder, what’s next?

  Reed himself felt loaded with emotions and pent-up energy. Part of him wanted to be out on the streets, finding all the perps that had committed this crime against his sister and Amanda, and the other part wanted to be right here, holding Amanda within his arms. Although she was literally so very close to him, she felt distant. Her emotions were all jumbled up, and she kept closing herself off, looking off in the distance as if she was lost in thought or memory. He wished that he could take away all of her fears, all of those frightened, bad memories, but that was impossible. All he could really do was make her feel safe and secure right now, right here. And later he would make the others pay.

  He also obviously felt torn about sending his sister home with another person. But he also knew her much better. If she said that she wanted to go home alone and be with a friend, then that really meant that she didn’t want him around. No matter how much he wanted to be there for her, it would only make the situation worse. Of course, he had called her friend Bridget to confirm that she was going to come over, and that she would call him if anything was wrong. And, he’d already taken a call from the officer who dropped Willow off at home, letting him know that Willow had made it home safely, and yes that there was another woman there – with an overnight bag – when they had arrived at the residence.

  He would have plenty of time to deal with Willow and her own boundaries later. Now, he had to focus on Amanda. Although all he truly felt like doing was ravishing the pale-looking beauty, he didn’t think that would do anything good for her psyche. The last thing he wanted was to have her go from being treated like a sex object for sale, to having someone else take advantage of her.

  First food, and then maybe a little bit of loving. Reed helped Amanda settle back onto the seat next to him, and then he reached over to get a glass of wine. As his body left the water, he caught Amanda’s eyes widen as she took in his backside, and he smiled a bit to himself. At least she couldn’t help herself to look.

  He handed the wine over to Amanda and took a glass for himself. In comparison to the heat of the tub, the white wine was cool and refreshing and slid lightly down his throat.

  “What pretty stemware,” Amanda said, holding up the rose-colored wine glass to the light. “It looks like cut crystal, but it’s obviously not.” She tapped on the side of the glass, testing the material.

  “Amazing what they can make with plastic these days,” he said, “plus it’s much safer than real glass in the hot tub.”

  He dragged the tray of food closer. Plates were filled with small delicacies such as olives, sliced breads and what looked like roasted bell pepper hummus. Smart not too eat too heavy so late, Reed thought. Taking a few olives in his hand, he fed them to Amanda. As the olives slipped between her lips, she ran her tongue along his finger, sucking off all the juice, and then some.

  Reed immediately felt himself harden, as he quickly imagined her sucking not on his finger, but his cock. Raising an eyebrow, he met her gaze, and she smiled as she released his finger. God, it was good to see her smile again.

  Being submerged in water, Amanda couldn’t believe she could get any wetter. As Reed continued to kiss her, though, and dip his finger between her legs, she knew that she’d grown slicker in a different way. She leaned back against his chest, head tilted back to revel in his kisses. She felt him edging her toward the edge of the tub, and she wondered where he was taking her. And then she felt it, the full throb of the water jet hitting her right between the legs. As he positioned her, he spread the folds of her sex with his fingers, giving access to her clit. The unforgiving water licked every inch of her crevice, forcibly massaging, pulsing, pounding. With his other arm, he held her steady. She couldn’t move away from the jet’s power, even if she wanted to.

  “Let yourself go,” he whispered in her ear. “Let yourself feel.”

  She longed to be filled by him. Connected to him, but again, it was all about her coming. It felt so personal, yet so
impersonal. Would they ever just be together? Or, would it always be one-sided?

  As the pleasure mounted, she lost all inhibitions and thoughts as everything became sensation. Reed’s arms holding her tight. The feel of his cock pressed up against her ass. His excited breath on her ear. The pounding, unforgiving water. She bucked against his hard body as her orgasm vibrated through her body. Unconsciously, she tried to move away from the jet’s stream, but Reed held her steady. Quickly, another orgasm ripped through her body, and she screamed out Reed’s name.

  Sated with pleasure, Reed felt Amanda’s body go limp within his arms. The mixture of exhaustion, release and the heat of the tub must have pushed her over the edge of consciousness. Her body felt pliant. He would do just about anything to take her then and there, but now really wasn’t the time. She’d just been exploited and rescued. He wouldn’t take advantage of her now. Even if she was a willing partner, the time wouldn’t feel right.

  He pulled her back to the seat, and reached over to grab the remote and turn off the jets. She looked up at him with sleepy eyes, and he knew that it was time to get her back to the dorms and let her rest. He lifted her out of the water, and her arms automatically went up to wrap around his neck, her head tucked into his chest. He laid her down on one of the lounge chairs and used one of the plush lavender towels to dry off her body. As he reached the tender spots between her legs, after-currents of pleasure flowed through her body.

  “No more,” she said, curling up on her side beneath the oversized towel.

  Taking in her delicate beauty, Reed wished once again that he could have convinced her to go somewhere else besides back to school. It’s true that she had been rescued. He didn’t know, though, if she was truly safe.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lucy had seen enough in her life, and as headmistress at San Francisco Sex University, she considered herself a good judge of character. She knew when a person truly feared something, and when they’d rather relish giving up control and diving into the phobia. Sometimes “fear” was merely another word for “fantasy.” What a person was really afraid of was their personal reaction to the situation, and simply the unknown.

  When she and the university took on a student, they did all the necessary vetting: Was the person applying for personal reasons, or did they have some ulterior motive? Anyone with a hidden dark intent quickly received a rejection notice. Ms. Lucy rarely took chances on someone who she thought wouldn’t “make it.” So it was with particular sadness that she saw what had happened to Clarissa Marciano, or Claire, as most others at the school knew her. Clarissa had come to the school at the urging of her fiancé, and she entered the S&M sequence. A soft-spoken young woman from a privileged Italian family, Clarissa had spent most of her life isolated and protected. Her first sexual experience had been with an older woman, one who took her same-sex virginity, and then discarded her sleeping on sheets spotted with the blood of her hymen. The situation might be all too familiar with heterosexual first-time sexual encounters, but the callousness of the woman left Clarissa even more devastated. So much, in fact, that she questioned her own sexuality, and her next partner, Mario, ended up being a dominant male, one her family approved of. Now, Clarissa was going to marry him.

  Pacing the marble hallway in her personal quarters, Lucy ignored the sharp clips of her heels on the tiles as she contemplated the choices that lay before her. Red curls streaming about her face, if anyone had seen her, they would be taken aback by the lack of control in her eyes. She looked like a woman on a mission, a woman possessed.

  The story touched Ms. Lucy in a way that she hadn’t encountered in a long time. Her own upbringing was very similar to that of Clarissa. When she left New York for California, she’d never looked back at her choices, or her past.

  During her stay at SFSU, Ms. Lucy hoped that Claire would come into her own and find her true path. Instead, she’d been beaten down by the very system that was supposed to rebuild her. Many students initially “failed” the S&M sequence. Few passed through completely unscathed. That step was part of the process. Those who faltered and went into another program were never meant to be there. Others got upset, but then that emotion turned to anger. Before Claire had been able to prove herself to others, and more importantly, herself, she’d been ripped from the school and held against her will. Claire certainly wasn’t a failure, she just hadn’t been given the chance to succeed. Now, before she could get there, she wanted to flee back home.

  Only one student had willingly decided to stay on at the university, and that was the promising Amanda. If Amanda stayed on track, Lucy predicted a bright and pleasure-filled future for her. The others who had decided to return home seemed like they would do well. With the strength of her brother Reed, the wispy Willow would heal from the experience, and most likely come out stronger. Out of all of them, she most worried about Clarissa.

  Ms. Lucy hoped to fix what was broken in Claire and hopefully stop that wedding from happening. Otherwise, she thought Clarissa would never be happy.

  As she reached the end of her hallway, Lucy hesitated outside a closed door. Hand raised to knock, she instead used it to push back her errant curls, and turned around to make another lap. At 41 years old, and headmistress at one of the most esteemed sex schools in the nation, let alone the world, she willed herself to get back in control of her emotions and face the decisions that lay beyond that door. She took a deep breath and headed back, not pausing to knock, but to open it and step inside.

  Cowering in the corner of the red velvet couch, clad in a gray sweatshirt and baggy black sweatpants, Claire looked up. Tears streaked down her face. At the sight of Ms. Lucy, her eyes widened.

  “Is it time for me to go home yet?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

  Ms. Lucy wondered what had happened to the budding self-confidence she had seen developing in the beaten young woman in front of her. In order to get her back on track, she’d have to be firm. Claire may not have a choice in her immediate future, but Ms. Lucy wasn’t going to allow her to see that.

  “I don’t think so,” Ms. Lucy replied. “You signed a contract to finish out the program here, and I’d very much like you to consider staying.”

  She wouldn’t think it possible, but Claire’s face crumpled further, and she pulled her knees tight against her chest. Her pale bare toes stuck out from the dark sweatpants, and Claire unconsciously pulled the extra long material over her feet in comfort.

  “But I said I wanted to go home. You said I could go home,” she whined.

  Lucy’s heart went out to the girl, and she moved to sit next to her on the sofa. Ms. Lucy wrapped her arms around Claire’s slight form, tucking Claire’s head beneath her chin and against her chest. Claire’s body shivered in her embrace. She smelled clean and fresh, like a spring meadow full of just-blooming wild flowers.

  “I know what I said, but I think it would be better for you if you stayed on,” Lucy explained.

  “I don’t think I could face them again, the other students. They know what happened to me, and I’m such a failure. I just need to go home, and Mario and my family will take care of me.”

  “You’re no such thing, and you have to stop thinking like that about yourself. You don’t want to go home like this. What would your family say? What would Mario say?”

  Ms. Lucy hated putting the situation to Claire like that, but, really, what choice did she have? She wouldn’t do what the others had done and keep her there against her will. Claire had to make the choice.

  “And you don’t need to go back to the dorms,” Lucy said, coming up with the idea on the spot. “Instead you can stay here with me, in my private quarters, and I’ll help tutor you.”

  “Really?” Claire asked, a bit of surprise in her voice. “You would do that?”

  “Of course I would do that. You’re a bright, gorgeous woman, now we just have to make you see that.”

  Momentarily, Ms. Lucy wondered what she was doing. It had been a long time since she h
ad let anyone stay at her home, and it was even longer since she’d let someone into her heart. In such a short amount of time, somehow Clarissa had done both.

  “Now, let me show you the guest room, and I’ll see if I have anything less unsightly to wear,” she said. “You know I abhor gray and sweats.”

  With the lightest of laughs, Claire agreed and let herself be helped up. As Ms. Lucy took the woman’s hand in hers, she felt a tingle of energy pass between them. Claire tightened her grip more and met her gaze straight on. Ms. Lucy had a feeling that it wouldn’t take long for Claire to find the strength she possessed.

  The room Ms. Lucy took her to outdid any dream room she could imagine. Plush white carpeting cushioned her feet as she took a step inside. The walls were painted a rich crème color on top, with a striped cornflower blue and crème wallpaper below, beneath a blue border circling the room. A huge bay window with pillowed seating looked out upon the expanse of SFSU. With all that, Clarissa’s eyes kept going back to the centerpiece of the room: a canopy bed with a billowing off-white valiance and a brilliant blue satin bedspread. Lush pillows created an inviting oasis that she longed to dive into.

  Claire looked back at Ms. Lucy. In her stark black bustier and leather miniskirt, Ms. Lucy looked the exact opposite of the ultra-feminine décor of the room. Perhaps there was more to Ms. Lucy than she let people see. And then she wondered: if this was the guest room, what did Ms. Lucy’s personal bedroom look like?

  “Go on in,” Ms. Lucy shooed her forward with a sweep of her hands. “Hopefully, you’ll feel comfortable here.”

  “It’s beautiful, and the colors are so soothing,” she said.

  As if pleased with Clarissa’s response, Ms. Lucy strode forward to the dresser. “Now, let’s see, I keep a variety of sizes in here just in case I have unprepared guests,” she said, sliding open the top drawer.

  Forced to describe her usual style, Clarissa would say, “whatever works.” She rarely bought designer brands and more often went for comfort. While at the school, she’d been experimenting with the clothes that she had been supplied with. Looking at the dress that Ms. Lucy was holding out, though, she’d seriously started to question whoever did the shopping for the guest quarters.