Dont Judge Me Ch 12

Everyone stayed still until the door slumped itself heavily shut behind Crystal as she left. As soon as it did, though, All the girls rushed over to me, babbling and exclaiming, thanking and complementing me. Cordelia and Pensee were out of the water and gathered around me with the others.

"Guys, guys," I battled to get their collective attention, but finally reined them in. "I should go after her."

A hush fell over the girls. Their various thought processes, I could see, shot in a variety of directions. In some cases wishing Crystal would just go away, in some wishing I would continue to crush the tormentor with further humiliation, but in others a sense that I was right, and gratitude that I was expressing humanity. All of them had any number of these thoughts, but after a couple of seconds they coalesced around agreeing with me that I should go after the now miserable woman. They stepped back, parting the little huddle, so that I could go, all murmuring reluctant agreement.

"I'll be right back. Promise," I assured them, as I hurried after Crystal, still with each hand massaging the opposite wrist to relive the pain and get the blood fully flowing again.

I hauled the door open and immediately saw Crystal slumped on the floor against the wall, her head on her knees and her arms wrapped around, weeping under a running shower. She didn't notice me.

I closed the door securely so that we would have privacy, then went over to sit beside her.

I startled her by speaking, "I'm so sorry for what I did in there, Crystal. I feel awful."

She looked up, clearly surprised, the water running down her face simply amplifying, not masking her tears. She stared at me for a long moment. I scanned across her mind and it was a war zone, filled with grief and pain and regret, all jumbled together. She spoke in an even, listless tone, "Fuck that, I deserved it. I've been a total bitch. And now I don't know who I am at all!" she started openly to bawl without reservation.

Instinctively I drew close, and put an arm around her shoulders but she flinched and pulled away, "No! Don't come near me. I'm a fucking lesbo now, so you," she tilted her head towards the door, "and all them, better keep your distance. Why don't you all just go away and leave me alone?"

She withdrew into herself again, lowering her head and sobbing away.

Her inner mind was just chaotic, with energy sparking off just about anything, and finding its way to the triggers for shame and self loathing without any rational reason. She was going to need to be put back together again, and I had no idea if I possessed the skill to do it.

I kneeled so that I could face her, and adopted a directive tone, "Crystal. Look at me."

Perhaps it surprised her enough. Perhaps she had so much chaos that she couldn't fight it. Either way, she looked at my face. I locked into her eyes and began speaking past her ears, directly into her mind, "Crystal, you are a beautiful woman. You are sensual and kind, and your sensuality is attuned to feminine things. That's it. It's that simple. What you are is ok. It's better than ok. It's you. And you are beautiful".

She was listening. It was a start. As I was pushing those messages deep into her mind I was picking up pieces and starting to rearrange them.

"You will only find real joy when you live your true self. If you have a partner in life, she will be a woman. That's just how you are. And that's beautiful. And you are beautiful." I spoke on, an incantation more than a lecture.

The words themselves weren't doing much by themselves. They were providing cover for my efforts to start from scratch and rewire her sensual self without all this toxic homophobic reflexive bullshit she had picked up from somewhere. But the themes I was speaking were also providing contours for my inner work. They were like tuning forks that I could use to identify the broken bits of her psyche, and start bringing them into some sort of order.

"I'm such a fuck up. I'm disgusting", she sobbed. The bile was rising, and bubbling out. It sounded awful in words, but it was actually part of a cleansing process underneath, just venting itself out through her voice.

"No, Crystal. You're beautiful just as you are." I just doused the toxicity as it emerged, and continued my work. It was hard. It was complex, and there were so many moving pieces. I was in over my head, but I now had no choice. I had to keep going, or leave her in a worse state than how she began. As she said, previously, she know who she was, at least: a bitch. Now, she's adrift.

"Why are you here, doing this, talking to me? Why don't you just leave me alone?" she sobbed.

Not bad timing. I saw a window of opportunity open, the elements in her mind sort of drifting from chaos towards an alignment as I coaxed and wrangled them, but it would only be for a moment before it all diffused again, because everything was in motion. It needed a decisive tap of just the right kind to click it into place, with the right keystone to hold it there, at precisely the right time.

The work I had done was hasty, but it might be enough, and this was as good a chance as I would get. I figured if I get the biggest pieces arranged and connected properly, the smaller issues will sort themselves out. I had some of the big, tectonic concepts prepared, like accepting who she is, a wholly positivist projection of femininity and womanhood, self-love, etc., and it was just a matter now of putting it all in place, but it all had to happen sort of at once, and be held together with just the right size and shape piece.

"Because, Crystal, you're worth it", I spoke directly into her mind, driving this thought home with precision and emphasis, hoping I was right that this could work as a keystone.

I checked. It was looking good. The pieces were falling together, and this crowning thought seemed ready to lock it all in. I waited a second and checked again. It was holding.

I brought myself back to the present moment. Crystal had stopped crying. She was staring blankly, almost through me. I worried for a moment that I might have done some sort of damage, in my inexperience in editing people's minds! But then she blinked, and adjusted her focus to my face. The tears came again, but this time they weren't bitter tears. They were relieved, free tears. I happily shared the moment with her, also crying at the joy of seeing her... almost reborn, in a way. Let's say rebooted.

We stayed there, on the floor, her under the shower, both of us naked, for several moments. I hadn't realized how much intensity I had experienced in working on her mind, but now I reveled in relief as I felt the weariness come over me.

"Ok. So I'm a...." she began, experimenting with how to continue the sentence.

"You're into girls, Crystal. You can label it whatever you want to, but start there." I encouraged her.

"I'm into girls," she tried it on for size. She accepted it. "Ok." She nodded, "What the fuck do I do now?"

We both burst into laughter.

"Well, we can start by turning off the shower!" I replied.

Presently, we were in the dressing room. We had both dried off, and each grabbed a silk dressing gown, so there we were, standing behind one of the vanity chairs, Crystal observing herself in the mirror as if for the first time. I held her hand tightly with both of my own hands.

"I"m too old to be gay," she suddenly pronounced. I gasped, and smacked her bottom through the silk, which offered no protection at all, and her girlish squeal in response gave lie to her statement.

"You are a sexy, beautiful woman, Crystal. Seriously. You're like Gal Godot or something. Look at you." I stood behind one shoulder, peeking out the side, because she was so much taller. She really was magnificent. But in her mind all she could see were the little lines at the corners of her eyes, earlobes that she thought hung too low, broad shoulders that she thought of as masculine, and thighs that she felt were too fat.

I took the opportunity to revise how she was seeing each feature, teaching her mind how to see kind, wise eyes, elegant ears, a warrior-princess chest, and a beautifully curved hourglass with shapely legs.

She gasped, then sighed.

We stood for several long moments as she learned how to look at herself in her new perspective on life.

She turned to me, "Ok, but what am I supposed to do? Hang out in gay bars? I'm a fucking lesbian, and I don't know how to be that!"

She was asking a genuine question but I felt I could tease her just a little, "That's not true!" My stern protest caught her full attention, "Technically you're not a fucking lesbian. You're more of a..." I paused so that she would suppose I was going to use some other label, or recast the idea like I had last time, before continuing, "... well, for the time being you're more of an incel lesbian. You know, just until you get laid. Then, sure." I flashed a wicked grin and shrugged.

Now it was her turn, and she took it, landing a deliciously loud smack on my bottom. We both laughed about it, though, until we gradually fell back into silence. I turned to her, "Listen, Crystal. I really am, you know, 'team penis', so I'm not the best person to answer your questions. I mean, I have fun with girls sometimes, but I really don't relate to actual lovemaking with a female partner, or doing relationship that way. I've come with you this far but I don't think I can be much more help."

She nodded with understanding, "I'll figure it out. At least I know who I am now. Thanks to you."

She ascribed her new outlook on life to the words I had said to her, because that's all she had been aware of. But those were the tip of the iceberg. She really had no idea the amount of work I had done within her mind to get it all put back in order after I had brought it down on itself in a crashing heap.

I can't explain, or really justify it. I guess I just had a hunch at that moment and went with it before the opportunity slipped by. I kissed her. Don't judge me.

It was the first time I had ever kissed a woman. I tried not to overthink it, but afterwards as I thought back on it, I realized I had never been kissed very well by my boyfriends. Not by comparison with this, anyway.

It was I who kissed her, but she instantly melted into it and then started to take control. There was none of the slobbery or invasive tongue work that I'd had from boys, just two delicious landscapes of densely packed nerve-endings coated in a film of luscious saliva, meeting with one another. Tongue, lip, both were alive with sensation. Suck, slide, press, taste, the threat of teeth, the promise of tongue... our mouths became a connector between our nervous systems, feeding sensation back and forth like a language, but bypassing any conscious control. It was just sensual, intimate, communicative, and mutually indulgent. The scent of her was some beautifully feminine perfume, but mingled with her own musky flavors. Oh, and her breath really was like strawberry cupcakes. I have no idea how long we were in the kiss, but when it finally ended we were both quivering, and our lips, still touching but only barely, took an extra second finally, reluctantly, to break contact.

We stood, she taller than I, staring deep into each other's eyes for a long time, in the failing light of the day fitfully leaking in through the large front windows, the room's illumination draining away, steadily, inevitably, plunging the room into darkness.

Finally, I broke away from our moment, "That ought to get you started, anyway".

"Thank you, Shynalee. Thank you. You can't possibly know how much you've done for me." She was setting me free. She was wise. She was going to be ok.

I headed back towards the bath room where I had left the others. I paused in the doorway to switch on the lights, calling out as I did, "You're worth it, Crystal."