Chased

I have been criticized for inventing evil female characters, then glossing over their pain when their antics are discovered. Below is my response. It is all pain. If that isn't your thing, feel free to hit the wee X in the top right hand corner.

No pickaxe handles were damaged in the writing of this story. And on the seventh day, the lord invented Hickory.

After I wrote it, it was pulled apart and destruct tested by CreativityTakesCourage, for which I am grateful. My life began when she entered it.

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DAY 1

Lyn awoke, uncomfortable and confused. She battled to open her eyelids for what seemed like an age, but in reality, was probably only a few seconds. Her addled mind found the familiar sight of her bedroom ceiling comforting. An image of the nightmare that had roused her was still in the forefront of her mind. She'd felt she was suffocating, which had always been a particular fear of hers. Once she managed to not only open both eyes but keep them open for more than a second, she noticed the trigger for her nightmare. John was lying asleep on top of her. His left breast to hers, meant she wasn't bearing the full brunt of his weight. His hips between her still wide stretched legs, meant it was enough to restrict her breathing. Automatically, she shoved him sideways. He rolled onto his back and immediately began snoring. She tried to recall what had roused her from deep slumber. The nightmare alone wasn't it. Still not fully conscious, her mind wandered back.

On the pretence of putting the final touches to the contract they'd worked on together for months, John and Lyn had left the office before lunch and come to her place for a nooner. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to share a bottle of wine before the important signing this evening, but she'd bought it specially, and it complemented the food she'd bought perfectly. Why not celebrate in style? This contract was the biggest in the history of their company. The fact she'd been chosen to complete it, meant she was on a fast track career as a company favourite. She also wanted to celebrate a change in her personal dynamics. A change she looked forwards to immensely.

That dragged her mind back to the man slumbering beside her. She'd fallen into bed with John about six weeks before. Sharing the stress and long hours with her fellow lawyer and colleague, formed a bond that had almost inevitably resulted in the physical affair they were currently engaged in. Having crossed the line once, crossing it the dozen or so times since hadn't been a biggie for her. The unusual hours she was keeping, plus the travel, made it so easy.

Still a little confused, Lyn tried to recall details of how she'd ended up like this. Her lips curled into a smile as details returned to her.

With six hours to kill and much to celebrate, John and herself parked in her carport and made out like teenagers. With the heat rising, they dragged each other through the internal door to Lyn's lounge, ripping each other's clothes off as they went. Once they were both naked, Lyn forced John onto his back on the huge sheepskin in front of the fireplace. Going to the fridge, she returned with food, wine and glasses. She straddled him but didn't allow entry; just rubbed her flowing vagina languidly up and down the cock pressed between herself and his belly. Every time he made to sit up and push her onto her back, she pressed him down. Lovingly, she fed him titbits from her organised picnic. She cracked the bottle of red and poured two glasses. Not being able to lift the glass to his lips from his helpless position, Lyn took a long draft from John's glass, held it in her mouth then transferred it to John's via a deep kiss. Ah, this is the life, Lyn recalled thinking. Nice food, nice wine and the anticipation of great sex to come. How could it be better?

In the here and now, Lyn wondered how much wine she'd drunk. With effort, she thought back. Alternating mouthfuls for her, then ones for John, they'd damned near finished the bottle. That probably accounted for the metallic taste, coating the inside of her dry mouth. With hunger for food satisfied, Lyn recalled retaining the last swallow of her second glass in her mouth. Never once breaking eye contact with John, she slid off him, knelt at his side and luxuriously slid his rampant monster in her mouth. She made a mental note to check the white sheepskin for red stains when she went downstairs. A little had dribbled out during her manoeuvres.

She recalled John closing his eyes, groaning loudly, as she began slowly moving her lips up and down. She wrapped her good hand around his base and followed her mouth up and down with it, pressing her thumb on the pipe underneath, in just the way experience told her John loved. Her plan, to get John half-way there, then mount him, was kiboshed when her lover grabbed the back of her head and held it firmly in place. She decided to give him the ultimate gift, his groans and gasps letting her know exactly what he wanted. His thrusts quickened and he didn't last long after that. With a mighty bellow, John unloaded into her wine filled mouth. She picked the exact moment her continued languid movement turned from sensuous to uncomfortable for him, knelt up straight and when his eyes re-opened, tilted her head back and swallowed. John looked at her adoringly.

Knowing she had only a few moments of his helplessness left, Lyn reached over and took a mouthful of John's glass. Leaning over, she kissed it into his mouth, whispering for him not to swallow it. Maybe John knew what she had in mind; maybe he didn't. Her heat made her selfishly not give a damn. Throwing one knee over each of his shoulders, Lyn lowered her sex onto his face and began furiously rubbing herself on his lips and nose. She heard him noisily breathing through the latter as he couldn't breathe through his wine filled mouth. Lyn arched her back and began massaging her own ample breasts. Talk about heaven. She didn't last much longer than John, before grinding into his face especially hard as a tremendous climax ripped through her. She screamed her pleasure at the ceiling. She figured John must have swallowed the wine when his tongue appeared and she luxuriated in the come down.

Things became a little blurry after that. Memories of John pushing her off him, reaching down to sling her over his shoulder and the heavenly trip up the stairs. She distinctly remembered him throwing her on the bed, before impaling her with his resurgent cock. Then... what?

Lyn, still groggy, was confused. Not only by the lack of memory, but by the failure of the just recalled memories to excite her more than they were. A few seconds' concentration solved that last mystery. Her bladder was giving out urgent signals. Very urgent. With a supreme effort of will, she cast her grogginess aside, rolled off the bed and staggered to the bathroom. She sat and relieved herself. The sheer length of time it took gave her time to notice outside inputs more. Weak light was spilling through the frosted glass of the bathroom window. The dawn chorus of twittering birds automatically triggering happy memories from a comfortable and contented life.

SHIT! Dawn chorus? Not even pausing to wipe herself, Lyn launched into the bedroom and looked desperately at the bedside clock. 7:46 shone malevolently back at her. Her subconsciousness desperately tried to lie to her and make her believe it was still light at 7.46p.m. at that time of year. It failed. The last shreds of lethargy and delusion were swept away by a terrible realisation. It was almost seventeen hours after she and John were supposed to sign the most monumental deal in their company's history and, somehow, they'd both slept right through it. A chill paralysed Lyn for seconds as she felt the bottom fall out of her perfect world. Her reflex was to get to work ASAP and salvage what she could. Taking the last three steps to the bed, Lyn shook John's shoulders violently until his eyes drifted open groggily.

"Get up, you stupid prick. We slept through the night. It's almost eight and our jobs are toast."

Lyn impatiently watched as what had taken her minutes was accomplished by John in seconds. He went from looking dazed to horrified. He jumped out of bed, staggered, then headed off downstairs to get his clothes. Lyn followed; almost pushing him down the steps in her haste. She instinctively knew that any further berating of him would slow him down, so she settled for giving him dirty looks. Even forgoing the time needed to put on her bra and just throwing on her discarded blouse and panties, John was fully dressed ahead of her. She had just picked up her pants and he was sitting on the couch putting his shoes on when something made her look towards the front door. Confused, she noticed it was partially open with only the safety chain holding it back. Vague recollections of the sound of it being opened and rattling against said chain itched against her consciousness as being the cause of her arousal from slumber some few minutes earlier.

She was still looking at the cracked door when a shadow moved against it. Something long whistled through the crack and hit the chain. The screws flew from the mounting bracket, the latch swung through an arc and smashed the glass pane above, before the door crashed fully open.

The sight that met Lyn and John could only be described as anger incarnate. Only a little over five feet tall, but almost as wide, the woman of obviously Mediterranean origin stood there with heaving breast. The axe dangled from one meaty arm. Her eyes blazed as she glared around the darkened room, before settling on the seated man and half naked woman. Lyn heard, "Oh shit, Maria," gasped behind herself.

"You fucking little shit! They were right. You've being doing the dirty on me while I've been out of town nursing mum."

If the irate , beweaponed she-devil uttered anything coherent after that, it was lost on Lyn. Seeing the axe raised and the first step towards them, she made for the stairs, only slightly hampered by the fact she had one leg in and one out of her pants. Half-way up, she was pushed the rest of the way by John taking the steps three at a time. They raced together to the only refuge available; the master bedroom.

Through the locked door and their own panicked gasping, they heard solid footsteps clumping up the stairs. A moment's silence was followed by the crash of an axe thudding into the door. The flimsy barrier moved enough that it was obviously not going to be a permanent defence. Lyn retreated to the door of the balcony and threw it open. Internal debate on whether she was desperate enough to make the three-metre drop was cut short as the tip of the axe finally made it through the wooden door. The sight of John accelerating towards her pushed the decision. She instinctively knew she didn't want to be the only one left alone in a room with... that. Turning around, she grabbed the rail, forced her body over it and lowered herself to her full stretch. Letting go, she dropped the rest of the way, landing heavily on her feet before falling on her arse, winded. John, following the same logic as Lyn, vaulted straight over the balcony rail. Landing awkwardly, his ankle rolled under him and he gave an involuntary yelp of pain. Lyn, her heart set on escape, took off straight away. Instinctively, she made for the carport. Entering, she had her car door open before she noticed the strange car in the driveway blocking hers in. She grabbed her handbag from the front seat and had just made it to the entrance when John painfully hobbled over.

"Where's my fucking car?"

"We don't have time for shit like that."

Lyn sped to the strange car, glancing around to check for signs of pursuit. Her eyes were drawn to the four flat tyres on her car. Confused, she looked into the strange car. She saw one thing that was good and one not so good. The former was the keys dangling from the ignition. The latter was the manual gear shift. She'd never bothered learning that. Her options flashed through her mind until the noise of an angry behemoth coming towards her told her she had none.

"You drive, John."

"I can't, Lyn. My ankle is busted. You'll have to."

Internal debate was useless. Lyn jumped in the driver's seat and John hobbled around to the passenger side. She started the engine just fine then asked what to do next. John looked at her, terrified and confused, until realisation dawned. He told her to press the pedal on the left, then rammed it into reverse himself. Somehow the car avoided stalling as Lyn released the clutch and hit the accelerator. As they shot backwards out of the drive, a swinging axe put a large divot in the windscreen, right in front of John. Lyn backed up the street until the armed woman chasing them gave up. With the luxury of time, John coached Lyn through turning around, this included Lyn stalling twice.

Lyn thought their first priority was to get to their work as quickly as possible to salvage the contract that had been put in jeopardy by their sleep-in. She was annoyed that, after the adrenalin of the past five minutes had started to fade, all John could do was complain about his sore ankle, then slump into semi-consciousness, rousing only when Lyn forced him to answer questions.

"I take it that was your wife?"

"Uh huh."

"How did she get the front door of my house open. It was dead locked and everything. Thank fuck the safety chain was on or she would have caught us fully in flagrante delicto."

That didn't require a response, so didn't get one. Just before they got to their destination, the engine alternately whining with over-revs, or shuddering due to being in too high a gear, John roused.

"Lyn, where was my car? I did drive it to your place yesterday didn't I?" Lyn didn't respond. She was still a little disoriented by the loss of a big whack of time. Then being awoken this morning at a time she didn't expect and in a very stressful manner, well, that threw her. She was only half listening to John's next words.

"Can we stop for a coffee or something. My mouth feels like it's had a hamster sleeping in it. How much did we drink yesterday?"

That brought to mind the taste Lyn still had in her mouth. She ran her tongue over her palate. There it was, a sharp, metallic taste. It tugged at her memory banks. She was distracted from those thoughts, firstly by John's snore and then their arrival at their place of business. She elbowed him awake and they headed for the office. Outside the door, Lyn looked at John's dishevelled state, then became aware of her own unfettered breasts. She could only imagine how she looked.

"Let's go into the bathrooms and clean up a bit. Meet me in my office then we'll go and see Mr. Biggs."

Neither took any notice of the receptionist picking up the phone as they headed for the stairs. They were each heading for the bathroom on their floor when they heard their names called. Mr. Biggs, the managing partner, was standing outside his office door. They couldn't ignore his crooked finger gesturing them both to enter his office. Preceding them in, he closed the door firmly, then walked behind his desk, glaring at them the whole time. Lyn saw herself reflected in John's unkempt hair, rumpled clothes, and haggard looks. Finally, Mr. Biggs broke the silence.

"Care to give me some explanation on why I spent all last night and this morning trying to salvage a contract after you stood up our client? Why I couldn't get either of you bozos on the phone when they rang me at six last night?"

Lyn ran various responses quickly through her mind. This was not good. It could put her career back a couple of years. This allowed a still groggy John to answer the uncomfortable questions.

"Sorry, boss, we slept in."

This response, coupled with their appearance, including Lyn's smeared makeup and improperly buttoned blouse revealing her swaying breasts, told Mr. Biggs all he needed to know. In all his career, he'd never seen two such talented rising stars commit professional suicide quite so effectively. He paused as a plan formed in his mind. Maybe he could salvage the contract, but only if he offered the clients a couple of heads on a platter.

"You two are suspended pending an investigation into your behaviour. I suggest if you clean out your desks now, it may save you time later and save me the need to lay eyes on your stupid faces ever again."

Lyn and John both bowed their heads in shame. John turned for the door first, followed by Lyn. Mr. Biggs next words were so soft, she almost missed them.

"This will devastate your husband, Lyn. Whenever we play golf together, it's always, 'Lyn did this', or 'Lyn said that'. I don't know how I'll be able to face him after this."

That almost made Lyn stumble as she began the walk of shame to her office. Just outside the door, they were intercepted by the assets manager.

"John, where were you last night? Where is your company car?"

John shook his head.

"This is serious. Did you drive your car last night?"

"I er... I don't think so. I went to sleep yesterday afternoon and didn't wake up until this morning. My car was missing."

"Did you report it stolen to the police?"

John just shook his head again.

"Well, if I was you, I'd call the police straight away. They rang this morning to see who was assigned that car. Apparently, whoever stole it from your place used it to ram raid the local biker hangout. Two of their guys were injured when it came through the wall of their clubhouse. You might want to think of a more convincing alibi before you call them."

John turned to look at Lyn in utter confusion. She had no answers to give him.

Lyn strode and John hobbled to their respective offices. As they left with their personal effects in file boxes, they had to endure the indignity of the admin manager looking through the boxes to ensure no company equipment or data was being removed. Their colleagues stood silent witness as they were escorted to the door. They put the boxes in the back of John's wife's car. Lyn pushed John away when he came in for a comforting hug. All that had happened in the last hour was because he didn't wake them up yesterday afternoon. Still stunned, they both sat in the front seat collecting their thoughts; John in the driver's seat. Lyn looked at herself for the first time that day, then at John and saw them as their boss had. How bloody stupid had they been? John proved he was finally back to reality when he spoke next.

"Job and marriage toasted in one day, wow."

Lyn was about to rip into him for his inane and unhelpful comment, when a screech of tyres drew their attention to the carpark entrance. John gasped at what he saw.

"Fuck! Carlos!"

He quickly started the car and gasped as his injured ankle depressed the clutch pedal. They took off, heading out the entrance. They passed John's wife in the passenger seat of the strange car. The driver was big and angry. He glared at them as they passed.

"Who the hell is Carlos?"

"My wife's brother. He's bad news. I'm talking mob bad. He's spent more time in jail than out and he has never liked me. His first spell in the joint was because he beat up some guy at school for saying Maria was 'easy' behind her back. Oh shit."

"Now you tell me, you clown!"

As John sped away, Lyn was relieved to see the other car boxed in as it tried to do a quick u-turn. Lyn directed John to make a couple of quick turns as soon as they were out of sight. Five minutes later, there was no sign of pursuit and they were on one of the freeways through the city. They discussed where to go but could come to no agreement. Obviously, John's house was out of the question and now they knew that Maria was aware of where Lyn lived, so was her place. They were no closer to deciding a destination when John reached to the dashboard and turned on a device. He explained that it was his wife's habit of listening on the police radio channel. It's legal unless a person uses the information so gained, in any way. The airwaves were busy giving the licence plate number and description of the car they were in. It had been reported stolen and was linked to the ram raid of the previous night.