THERAPY

By Jeb

Chapter Two: Video

"Hungry?"

Linda stared foolishly. The tall, athletic blonde at the door was smiling, no rubber ball between her teeth. No rope anywhere, just a blue cotton blouse knotted at her waist, above her white hip-huggers. Lauren Tate stood in the doorway, a steaming white cardboard box in her hand.

"Uhh, Lin, can I come in? This box is kinda hot."

"Oh, gee, sorry!" Linda stepped aside, feeling stupid, and Lauren dashed for the kitchen, setting the box down on the counter.

"Lauren, it's..." Linda took a breath, "oh gosh, it's good to see you!" Lauren cocked an eyebrow, giving her tanned, friendly face a quizzical look.

"Always glad to be seen," she answered, somewhat puzzled by the evident emotion in Linda's voice. Lauren studied her friend for a moment. "Lin, you're at it again."

"It's nothing," Linda stammered. "New blouse?" She turned away, busying herself with a bag of salad.

"No, I wore it at least twice last month. What's up with you?" No impatience in her voice, Linda noted, just concern. Hold it together, Linda. After dinner, we'll see...

"Oh, sorry. It's just Ken." Linda was halfway on her way to forgetting Ken, but he made for a good excuse.

"Oh, geez, Lin, we have GOT to get your love life straightened out!" Lauren was cheerful, but Linda could sense the serious intent beneath.

"Well, how 'bout we eat first?" Linda laughed thinly, setting two bowls of salad on the table. "Drink?" She handed Lauren a tall glass of wine.

Linda sipped her second glass of wine on an equally empty stomach. Oh, god, she thought, I hope I don't pay for this tomorrow-- in any way.

The pizza was probably delicious. Linda chewed without tasting. She just wanted to be sure she had enough food inside her to let the wine get her relaxed, without passing out. After ice cream and coffee, Linda, her mouth rapidly drying, asked, "So, shall we watch a movie?" Lauren stretched, yawned, and said, "If it involves collapsing on your couch, I'm all for it."

As they entered the living room, Linda almost regretted that the VCR wasn't connected to the TV in the bedroom, instead of this one. Still, Ken was right, that screen was pretty small, and Linda wanted to be sure she could see details clearly.

Linda turned on the TV, and picked up the remote control for the VCR as the two women plopped down in the couch. She was about to start the movie, then hesitated, finger poised over the "Play" button. "Let's watch the end of this, first," she blurted, looking at the TV, and laying the remote back in her lap. Chicken!! She screamed to herself.

"OK," Lauren shrugged, uncertain why Linda would want to watch the last five minutes of "Rugrats". Lauren settled down, cozily, and gave her attention to the TV.

Linda, sitting upright, gazed down at the top of Lauren's head. She remembered kissing her there, on that horrible day. But try as she might, she couldn't find the feeling inside her that had prompted it. That her friend was strikingly beautiful was beyond question, with her smooth, tan skin, long golden hair, and legs that seemed to go on for miles. That wasn't it, though. She certainly loved Lauren, but she wasn't "in love" with her. The feverish buzz that made her melt around men like Ken or David-- there, I've thought his name-- wasn't present when she was with Lauren. But there was something, something she needed to learn about. It was time to get started. Linda snuggled down into the couch, swallowed heavily, and started the video tape.

The screen went blank for a second, and then the garish color logo came up, an eagle on a rock, unchanged since WWII. Linda held her breath as the movie began.

In a dimly-lit room, the camera slowly panned across the still form of a woman, dressed in a purple top and black jeans. She lay on the floor, hands tied behind her back with white rope, ankles tied as well. Her face now came into view; her eyes were closed, and a large knot of white cloth was tied between her parted lips. Linda held her breath.

"That's Gina Gershon," Lauren said. "Is this Bound? Cool, I've never seen it."

"It's good," Linda answered, as casually as she could manage.

Linda had seen it at the movies, quite a while before the attack last year. As she had watched it, she had been able to tell that it was having a profound effect on her. At the time, she had feared that the lesbian element of the story was exciting her, and she tried her best to forget about it. Now, after what had happened last year, she knew it was something else, but what? All she could be certain of was that when she had bought it at the store, she had known that the time would come when she would share this with someone.

Linda's breathing quickened as Gina Gershon and Jennifer Tilly were bound, gagged, and handled roughly by the wonderfully sleazy Joe Pantoliano. As the dark caper unfolded, the living room was unusually quiet, none of the chat or wisecracking that she and Lauren usually shared while watching TV. The only interruption came when Linda refilled their wine glasses.

Finally, the film ended, the screen going blank. Neither woman spoke. After a moment, Linda got up to turn off the TV, before stopping the tape and being subjected to whatever mood-shattering idiocy might be on TV at the moment.

Well, that was a big nothing. God, at least I didn't make a big deal of it before we started, so Lauren will just think I wanted to watch a good thriller...

"It's about that day, isn't it?" Lauren's voice came from behind her.

Linda felt a tremendous weight slide off her shoulders. As she fumbled the tape out of the VCR, she nodded slowly.

"Thought so." After a moment's silence, while Linda memorized the pattern on the rug in front of her, Lauren continued. "After you came back from the D.A.'s office that day, you told me you were going to forget it. I didn't say anything, but I never believed that was possible. I mean, I got off pretty easy that day, compared to you, and I couldn't forget it if I tried."

"I did try. I tried, and I thought I'd succeeded. Only..."

"Only it wasn't gone, was it? There's something you haven't worked through, girl, and it's eating you up. Is it Antonia and Michelle? Still being on the loose?" Lauren hesitated. "Or … or is it just Antonia?"

Linda sighed, feeling giddy from the combination of the wine and relief at finally sharing her feelings. She giggled, "She sure had it in for me, didn't she?"

"She had it BAD for you is what she had," Lauren laughed, pleased to see the tension broken. "I remember she liked your hair."

"Yeah." Linda's eyes grew distant again, and she tried to let the wine loosen her tongue. "Lauren... Lauren, Antonia's gone, and if living with these unresolved feelings is the price of never seeing her again, I'll gladly pay it." She swallowed hard. "But there is one other part of that day that I...um... well, that I could sort of...oh, I don't know, 'relive', I guess. Well, what I mean is---"

"You want to tie me up," Lauren finished her sentence.

Linda's mouth opened and closed. Until Lauren said it, she hadn't even realized that's what she'd been trying to say.

"Hey, it's OK." Lauren came over to kneel behind her.

"But, Lauren, it's so...so... WEIRD!"

"What is, getting tied up? Remember, I told you my brothers did it to me all the time, and I'll bet it happened to you when you babysat more than once."

"Not just getting tied up, but re-creating the time that I tied you up when we all could have been killed!"

"Well, one of the reasons we weren't killed is that you did a good job tying me up. Antonia forgot about me, and I was able to get away."

Linda couldn't help herself; she laughed, "Then I guess I didn't do that good a job."

The atmosphere in the room was warmer now, and more relaxed. "Well, no, actually, I thought you did a great job on me, in that-- 'hogtie', I guess you specialists call it." Linda laughed broadly. "I eventually got loose, but I sure felt pretty helpless lying there. Nope, no complaints about your rope work, at all. So," she continued briskly, "shall we get started?"

"Oh, Lauren, are you sure? I mean, if you--"

"Linda, I'd trust you with my life. Hell, I DID trust you with my life."

"But--"

"Answer me this: If you tie me up, do you think there's any chance at all that you'll start to understand what you've been feeling?"

"Well... Yes, I hope so."

"Then that's reason enough for me." Lauren picked up the wine bottle, refilled both glasses, and lifted hers. Linda was surprised to realize that they had now finished two bottles this evening. "To understanding your feelings!" Linda responded, her glass pinging against Lauren's from the trembling of her hand. "OK," Lauren continued briskly, "Let's go. What do you have we that can use?"

Since Linda had never really expected things to go this far, she hadn't prepared anything.

"Well, I've got a bathrobe cord, and some scarves. And nylons, of course."

"That'll do." Lauren was on her feet, only slightly unsteady, and moving into Linda's bedroom. Linda joined her, wondering if trying to sober up would make things better or worse. Linda found her bathrobe in the closet, removing the narrow fabric belt. Lauren had some nylons in one hand.

"OK, Lin, scarves are your department; I don't want the responsibility of deciding which ones we get all wrinkled."

Linda looked in her drawer; there were some older scarves made of some sort of synthetic, which she began to take out. A thought struck her, though. She dropped them back, and opened a different drawer. This was where she kept her best silk scarves, neatly folded. She chose a navy blue one, and one in a bright red pattern. To hell with the wrinkles: Lauren deserved the best.

"Do you want to lie on my bed?"

"No, I think it'll be easier on the floor-- more room to try and move around. Besides, isn't that the experience we're trying to, ah, 'recapture', as they say?"

Linda nodded and followed Lauren to the living room. She was having a little trouble maneuvering, her head woozy.

"OK, boss, where do you want me? Or, excuse me, should I say, 'OK you foul fiend of a kidnapper?' " Without waiting to be instructed, Lauren stood in the center of the room, her back to Linda, blond hair cascading down her back, nearly touching the wrists she had already crossed behind her. Linda suppressed a drunken giggle. She knew that she was about to cross a bridge that would burn down behind her. This was her last chance to turn back-- no. That chance had passed unseen somewhere this evening. There was no turning back. She picked up the bathrobe cord, and reached for Lauren's wrists.

The memory of that day in her fingers was strong, but the wine had made them clumsy. She tried to duplicate the criss-cross that she had used on Lauren's wrists the last time, but her hands wouldn't co-operate. Lauren gave a few pulls, and her wrists came free. She looked up at Linda, who grinned foolishly and shrugged.

"I've got an idea." Lauren scampered to the TV, turned it on, and started the VCR; the movie had rewound itself, and began again at the beginning. She then knelt down and placed her hands behind her back again.

"Here, I'm Gina Gershon. Now, try and...ooooohhhh, look how tidy those ropes are. Guy does very nice work."

Linda was giggling helplessly. "Stop it! I'm trying to be serious, here," but she couldn't stop. Shaking with laughter, she finally did manage to get Lauren's wrists tied together, but had to admit that it was nothing like what she was seeing on the screen. Lauren set her off into another flurry of giggles by picking up the remote control with her bound hands, and holding it behind her back, using it to back the film up again.

"That's enough of that!" Linda did her best to sound stern, as she took the remote from Lauren. "Now, lie down." When Lauren complied, she used one of the nylons to tie her ankles together, but in her condition, trying to pull Lauren into a hogtie was hopeless. Finally, she abandoned the attempt, and sat down beside Lauren, giggling again.

As Linda took a breath to collect herself, she looked up at the TV screen. Lauren had grabbed up the remote again, and paused the tape; the screen was frozen in a close-up of Gina Gershon's gagged face. Linda found herself studying the gag as she might a new fashion accessory. How did they get it so neat?, she wondered. The wide knot in the bright white cloth fit the actress' mouth perfectly, with her upper lip drawn back just enough to expose her top teeth. Linda wondered if there were any way she could possibly do something so aesthetically pleasing to Lauren's mouth.

As it turned out, at least this evening, the answer was no. Linda began by tying a knot in the middle of the navy-blue scarf. She gently pressed Lauren back to the floor, on her stomach, and fitted the knot between Lauren's teeth. Linda pulled on both ends of the scarf, to force the knot further into Lauren's mouth. After Linda had finished knotting the scarf behind Lauren's hair, her "captive" spoke up.

"I can still talk. Sort of." The knot was nowhere near large enough to fill Lauren's mouth, Linda realized. She recalled how enormous the gag she had been given to use on Roz had seemed at the time; obviously, Antonia had known what she was doing. Linda next took the red scarf, and folded it into a thick, silk square. She undid the navy scarf from Lauren's mouth, and moved in front of her bound friend.

"All right, miss," Linda tried to get into some sort of character, "open up so I can quiet that pretty mouth of yours!" Lauren's pale blue eyes widened in mock alarm, and Linda wondered to herself why she decided to tell Lauren her mouth was pretty just as she was about to gag it.

With Lauren's mouth open as wide as possible, Linda began stuffing the folded scarf into it. She was terrified of choking her friend, so she did her best to wedge the silk up into Lauren's cheeks, hoping that would help keep it in place. Now, she realized that she should probably have tied the red scarf into the navy one, but she didn't really want to start over. She pulled the navy scarf firmly back into her "captive"'s mouth, pulled it around her head, and knotted it in the back. For a moment, Linda gazed down at her friend, admiring the way the gag made her hair follow the graceful curve of her head, with the navy scarf contrasting with the gold of Lauren's hair. After a moment, she did her best to get back into character.

"Awright," Linda's voice was showing the effects of too much wine, "less see you get out of that." Lauren obliged by starting to roll herself across the floor. Even tired and slightly drunk, she was athletic enough to easily get herself up on to her knees. From there, one hop had her back on her feet. She then began twisting her body from side to side, the motion loosening the bonds at her ankles. In a moment, she was dancing, kicking her now-freed legs high in the air, and Linda was giggling uncontrollably. Lauren gave her a goofy smile around the gag, and now tears ran down Linda's cheeks she was laughing so hard. Lauren joined in, the strange huffing noises coming from behind her gag making Linda shriek with laughter. In another few seconds, Lauren had freed her hands, and she sat next to Linda, making faces around the gag. Finally, she removed the scarves from her mouth.

The two women sat on the floor leaning their backs on the couch. When the giggling stopped, the only sound in the room was their panting breath.

"I'm sorry." Lauren's voice was slurred and sleepy. "I'm sorry, Lin. I know this was something that matters to you, and I turned it into a joke."

"It's not you." Linda wasn't looking at Lauren, but her voice held no rebuke. "I needed the wine to work up my courage, and I guess I went a little too far." She paused. "But, you know, Lauren, acting this out with you tonight really did help. At least I'm sure, now, that there's something inside me that came out that day, and hasn't come back since. It may be a good thing or a bad thing, but it's certainly more than we two could hope to learn on our own."

"Does that mean you're finally going to look for--um, I hate to put it this way-- 'professional help'?"

Linda sighed. "Oh, Lauren, I'm too tired and tipsy to think about that tonight." Her face grew more serious. "But, thanks. Without your help, I wouldn't have had the nerve to consider it."

"Any time. Nerve is my specialty." She glanced at the clock. "Yikes. 2 A.M. Guess it's your couch for me." Lauren took some sheets from the linen closet, while Linda got a change of clothes and spare toothbrush for her friend.

Linda was awakened by a smooth palm pressed firmly across her lips. Though still fogged by the wine, Linda came to sobered consciousness as she looked down the barrel of a pistol. Above the gun, by the dim light of her bedside clock, she saw Roz: David's old girlfriend was dressed in starched prison denims, and the look on her face suggested that her time in prison had not been pleasant.

"Hi, Linda," came Roz' harsh whisper. "It's really been too long." Despite the threat of the gun, Linda began to thrash on the bed, when she felt another pair of hands take hold of the thin sheet over her body, and pin her legs down to the bed.

"Don't be stupid, Linda," Roz hissed, the pistol moving closer to Linda's face. "You know I'd gladly kill you. Get out of bed slowly." Roz drew her left hand away from Linda's lips, and stepped back, covering her with the gun as the dazed Linda swung her feet to the floor. As she did so, the owner of the second pair of hands came into view: dressed, as always, in an expensively-tailored designer suit, auburn hair flowing past her shoulders, Rachel Edison was grinning unpleasantly at Linda.

Rachel. The statuesque redhead had been David and Roz' boss, and after she had walked into the thieves' trap that day, her contempt for Linda and her husband had goaded Linda into attacking her. With Antonia's encouragement, Linda had gagged, bound, and tormented the redhead, and had been forced to admit to herself that she thoroughly enjoyed doing so. Now, it would seem that Rachel had forgiven Roz for her involvement in the scheme, and decided to have her revenge on Linda.

"Out of bed, sleepyhead. We've got a little surprise for you." Roz had taken a fistful of Linda's hair, and yanked her to her feet. "Take a look."

In the dim light, Linda could see that chair in front of her desk was occupied by a third person. Roz dragged her closer, and Linda gave a horrified gasp: Lauren Tate sat, naked, in the chair. Her arms had been tied atop the arms of the chair with some kind of white rope, and more of the rope encircled her torso, and was tied across her lap. Special attention had been paid to her breasts, and they were swollen and tender-looking from the loops of rope which bound them cruelly. Lauren's blue eyes gazed pathetically above a mouth stuffed with what seemed like half the contents of Linda's underwear drawer, the stuffing held in place with the same navy-blue scarf Linda had used earlier in the evening.

"Say hi to Lauren," smirked Roz. "And, Lauren, tell Linda-oh, I guess you can't really tell her much of anything, can you?" She laughed, and used her fist in Linda's hair to force the terrified woman's face down toward her captive friend's breasts. "Take a look, Linda. Impressive, aren't they?" Rachel snickered from behind them. "Now, with Lauren's breasts all big and inviting there, it gives me all kinds of ideas. Rachel?" As Linda trembled, Rachel stepped into sight, carrying a small bag. Grinning down at the helpless Lauren, she took out an alligator clip, and pinched down so that it opened.

"What?!?" What are you talking about?" Linda was shrieking now, but Roz didn't seem to be concerned about the noise. She sneered into Linda's face.

"Just this. Lauren is going to be hurt tonight. Now, if you want, I can let Rachel hurt her because she hates you both." The redhead leered unpleasantly, and Roz went on. "Or, you can hurt her yourself because you love her. Your choice."

Linda's face had gone white, and she felt paralyzed, almost as though if she just held still, the madness would go no farther. A sound brought her out of her reverie: Rachel clicking the clips open and closed, snickering. She held them out to Linda. "Last chance, bitch."

Almost without her realizing it, Linda's hands reached to take the clips in nerveless fingers. She trembled as she turned her face to her friend. The brave confidence Lauren had shown the day of the robbery was gone now, and frightened tears ran down her cheeks, dampening the scarf tied brutally in her mouth. Through her terror, though, Lauren did her best to give strength to Linda: she looked straight into her friend's eyes, and gave a slow nod of her head.

"Lauren," Linda's voice was a choked whisper, "I-- I can't." Lauren glared at Linda, and a furious humming came from her stuffed mouth. She nodded more emphatically, and sat as straight as she could, her breasts now ever more prominent. Linda looked again at the maniacally grinning Rachel, and realized that she really had no choice. She took a step toward Lauren, and the bound woman closed her eyes. Linda reached down, opening the clip wide. It shook in her trembling hand as she placed it above the erect aureole of Lauren's nipple, and as gently as she could, Linda closed the clip.

Like a toy on a string, the clip was whipped from Linda's fingers as Lauren jerked in the chair. The piteous sound that came from behind the gag started Linda's tears flowing again. She put her knuckles in her mouth, and bit down hard, a trickle of blood salting her tongue.

"Good start, Linda." Roz' voice was pitiless. "Keep going, or I will."

Linda turned brimming eyes on the brunette. "You'll burn in hell for this, you monster," she hissed.

"Oh, my." Roz' voice was now amused. "How very Old Testament of you." She hardened her tone again. "Clamp her other tit now!"

Blinking back tears, Linda turned again to Lauren. Her friend had opened her eyes, and was looking at Linda with a look of hopeless dependence, like a child that knows punishment is coming. As the other clip seized hold of her, Lauren let out another muffled shriek, and slumped her head forward, sobbing.

Linda turned on her tormentors.

"All right, damn you! Is this what you wanted?"

"Oh, yes, Linda. You've done a wonderful job, and that should not go unrewarded." Roz' smile was maniacal, and she looked expectantly at the door to the living room. A figure was moving slowly through the darkened doorway. As Linda squinted her reddened eyes, she felt Rachel seize her from behind by the arms, yanking them painfully up behind her back, and tying her wrists together. As she struggled, she tried to make out the face emerging from the darkness; in the dim light, she could only tell that it was somehow terribly familiar to her.

"I love a romantic reunion," she heard Roz giggle from behind her, and at that moment, a shaft of light from the window fell across the moving figure, splashing across a gray face with staring eyes. Linda froze, the evening's previous horror forgotten. The figure took another step into the light, and Linda could see the gaping holes oozing darkly in its chest.

"D--D--David?" Linda's voice was childishly small and frightened. The figure opened its mouth to reply, and a horrible rasping emerged.

"Liiiiinnnnnddddaaaaa," came the toneless voice.

"That's right, David," Roz' voice was bright. "Here she is, the little woman. Why don't you show her that all is forgiven?"

As the disgusting thing shambled toward her, Linda pulled vainly against Rachel's hold on her arms. Let them shoot her, shoot Lauren even-- she simply had to escape! It was no use, though-- as the wretched corpse moved closer, Rachel shoved her from behind, and Linda found herself in her late husband's morbid embrace. Now, she squirmed, flailed, yanked at the bonds on her wrists, screamed-- nothing worked. She was trapped in the arms of this horrific creature.

"Liiiinnndddaaa," gasped the monster again, and now Linda realized that the thing wore no pants. She closed her eyes as tightly as she could, as she was pulled, gibbering madly, against the bleeding torso, and felt her last grip on sanity slip away as the thing that had once been David entered her.

"AAAAauuuugggghhhh!" Linda's cries were underscored by a gritty moan from the corpse.

"Liinnnnddaa. Lllliiiinnndddaaa." The voice then grew higher and more urgent. "Linda! Linda!! LINDA!!!"

Linda's body shook spastically, and her eyes flew open. The gray, moldering face of her rapist from beyond the grave had been replaced with a tanned face framed by bed-tousled blond hair. Piercing blue eyes regarded Linda, as Lauren shrieked her name again.

"Linda, wake up!"

"Huh?! Wha!?! I---" Linda's voice broke off into hysterical sobbing. She felt Lauren pull her close, heard her whisper soothingly.

"Linda. Today. You've got to get some help today." The sobbing woman didn't respond. Linda buried her head deep into Lauren's chest, and fell back to sleep.

When 6:30 came, Linda stumbled out of bed, determined to have as normal a day as she could manage. The sight of Lauren's bright face in the kitchen reminded her, though, that her friend was right-- it really was time to consult a professional on this. Linda reached for the radio, to turn up the weather report.

"Let me check my messages." At the same time, Lauren reached for the phone on the side table next to the radio. The two women's hands collided, knocking the phone off the hook and the radio to the floor.

"Aw, geez. Sorry." Lauren bent to pick up the radio, and as Linda hung the phone back up, she was suddenly hit by a thought-- she had finally remembered who she had thought of calling earlier in the week. Telephone and radio together meant…

"Um, Lauren. I'm taking your advice. I've decided where to go to get some help with this problem." She nodded at the radio. "Have you heard Doctor Karry O'Kane?"

"The lady 'sex therapist' on the radio? Oh, come on. Quit joking."

"No, really. She's supposed to have lots of experience with strange sexual disorders, and this certainly seems to qualify."

"She's probably a quack; anyway, are you saying that you're prepared to share your problem with a million radio listeners?"

"I don't have to use my real name."

"That's not the point. You can barely bring yourself to talk about this alone with me."

"But that IS the point-- maybe sharing this with a bunch of anonymous people will help me feel more… well, 'normal' After all, it's not any stranger than stuff they have on that show every day. And Dr. O'Kane seems really nice. I like her."

Lauren stared hard at her friend. "Linda, I don't know what makes you think that this is going to help, but you're a big girl, and you can make your own decisions, without any help from me." Or is that what this is about?, Lauren wondered. Is she just waiting for me to try and stop her?

"Lauren, don't be mad."

"I'm not mad-- just worried." As Linda's face fell, she went on. "Linda, I promise, if there's anything I can do to help-- even if it's something nutty that this sex doc tells you to do-- I'll help. Just don't expect me to listen to that drivel on the radio, OK?" Lauren turned back to the phone to call her voicemail; Linda waited quietly until she was done.

"I was thinking I'd call in tonight." To her relief, Lauren gave no hint of criticism.

"Well, then give me a ring tomorrow, and let me know how it goes, OK? Really, Linda, you know that you don't need my approval to still have my support."

"I know." Linda smiled, feeling more relaxed. "Thanks, Lauren. Maybe you're right, maybe the whole thing is just nuts. But I have to try." Scooping up a bagel, she followed Lauren out the front door.

To Be Continued...

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