Oblivion & Doubt

This series is a companion to my story Truth & Admiration.

My intent is not to offend, but this is a d/s lesbian romance with strong themes of nonconsent and reluctance. If that's not your bag, I understand and hope you will find another story to enjoy.

As always I hope you will enjoy the story, and that if you do you will leave a comment.

XOSNS

Night Train

Leethie's drive to El Paso had been long and hard. The hotel her mother had booked was a new glass and steel tower; soulless but clean. Her room was on the 20th floor, but she didn't even look out at the view. There was a king-sized bed, and that's all she saw. For a long time, she just lay on it, fully dressed in the brightly lit room looking at the ceiling.

She had left home at sunrise. Her mom had come out in her robe to kiss her goodbye. They stood in the driveway squeezing each other tight.

"I love you, baby," she whispered in Leethie's ear, her breath smelling strong with sleep. "Everything is going to be OK."

She had avoided the big interstates a much as she could, driving two-lane highways almost the whole way. And while she'd tried to enjoy the landscape Leethie's mind had attacked itself the whole day; for trusting Linda, for losing her job, for fantasizing about Miranda, for losing Miranda. She had tried not to think of her father's stony silence, of the hurt angry expression on Linda's wet face, of her own longings. When she had thought of those things, she found herself unconsciously speeding up - as if by going 90 she could escape the memories.

'You're going to get yourself pulled over,' she'd thought, as she caught herself doing it for the umpteenth time.

The drive took her nine hours, stopping only at gas stations for fuel and food. She stood watching old Mexican women make burritos from scratch, cooking raw tortillas at little counters next to the register while dusty cowboys bought scratchers and loosies, taking guilty looks at her chest and ass.

'Only in Texas,' she thought.

Miranda's final care package had been a small padded envelope that had arrived as she was packing up her apartment. It was filled with dry flower petals, a mixtape, and a card in Miranda's curling script. All it said was "CAN'T WAIT!"

Miranda had sent almost a dozen tapes since Leethie and her father had gotten home from the East Coast. The tapes had everything from Chris and Cosey's "Walking in Heaven" to Mr. Rogers singing "girls are fancy on the inside." Each tape seemed constructed like a story or a poem, one that Leethie was meant to decode. She had listened to very little else for the past seven months.

For the first hour or so of the drive, however, she had resisted listening to Miranda's tapes, too caught up in her guilt and regret; too afraid to think about where she was going, and why. Instead she struggled to find stations playing good songs on the radio, then to find stations playing songs, then to find stations. finally she'd given up and reached for the case holding Miranda's tapes. She'd begun cycling through them, reaching blindly for a new one each time one came to an end. By the time she reached El Paso her passenger seat was piled with tapes and their cases.

The last couple of hours she'd just played the same tape over and over. It was the first tape Miranda had made her, the one she found waiting for her in the apartment. The last song on it was "Smoke and Mirrors," by the Magnetic Fields. As she got closer to El Paso she'd started rewinding that song and replaying it, again and again. Leethie loved it so much she wanted to grind her teeth whenever it was on. She had listened to it so often for the past eight months she knew the words by heart; had memorized every shift and peculiarity of Stephin Merritt's dark bass, until he seemed to be whispering in her ear.

"Smoke and mirrors," he crooned, "special effects. A little fear, a little sex"

Laying on the giant bed all the miles of racing away from home seemed to collapse and pile up on top of her; as if her soul had been stretched all day and was now contacting with explosive force.

Leethie wept.

She didn't sob or gasp at first, but the tears slid down her cheeks and her chest shook with the pain of it all. She held her torso tight, bearing down with all her strength on her ribcage and abdomen, on her sorrow; swaddling it, holding it as still as she could while the sadness and anger writhed and clawed inside her.

"That's all love is behind the tears," Merritt explained. "Smoke and mirrors."

She looked at the ceiling through a blur of tears wondering at the pain. It felt like a thick iron bar passing through her heart.

"We were foolish, you and I," he rumbled. "But there's no reason to cry."

Leethie covered her heart with her hands, clutching at her breast, arms folded tight against her sides, and tried to imagine the bar. It was dence and rigid and was almost as big around as her heart, which ached horribly. she wondered if she could actually be having a heart attack; imagined the maid finding her dead.

In her mind's eye the bar passed through her heart, out her sides, and through her arms, extending out well past the envelope of her body. She wondered how far it went, imagining it as a roughened black thing, stretching for miles in both directions.

"We put on a lovely show, but that's all," Merritt's voice sang in her mind. "I had to go."

Still crying she reached for her jeans; giving up.

Clenching her teeth and moaning loudly she took hold of her fly. Jerking the buttons open and spreading them wide, she used her thumbs to push her panties and jeans down, shimmying them over her ass to just below her hips. She had known she'd do this; had sworn she wouldn't. She had put it off for days, too ashamed while she was staying under her parent's roof. Leethie had known for hours this would happen, had told herself she didn't want to but had thought of little else; had known this was how her day would end long before she kissed her mother goodbye.

"I don't know the stations' names," hushed the song. "I'll spend my life on this train."

The night train from Paris to Berlin was surprisingly full. They had planned to save a little money by sleeping on the train with their rail passes rather than rent a room. But crammed next to Miranda, Leethie couldn't sleep. The car was over-chilled against the muggy weather and the two of them were underdressed in shorts and t-shirts. They were huddled for warmth, their legs covered with a cardigan and their torsos covered by a windbreaker.

Miranda was twisted in her seat and slumped against Leethie, head on her shoulder, her right arm around her waist. Leethie had put her arm around Miranda's shoulder. She had taken the aisle seat, but stared out over the top of Miranda's head at the window. The lights were dimmed in the car and it was raining, so the countryside was darker still. Except for random tiny lights in the distance, all Leethie could see in the window was their reflections.

They had spent more time and money than they intended working their way up the coast of Portugal, and the trip through Spain from Santiago de Compostela to San Sebastian had been beautiful but exhausting and frustrating. Trains had given way to buses, buses to hitchhiking, and at times hitchhiking had given way to walking. Foot-sore and filthy they had arrived in Biarritz. They had spent almost a week beach-bumming and recharging their batteries, before moving on. They visited Bordeaux and Tours in quick succession; they were in a rush to reach Paris. But after three nights in Paname, and a long day in the sun drinking white wine, Leethie was once again exhausted, grubby, and a little drunk.

She leaned her cheek against Miranda's head, and Miranda squeezed her waist and nuzzled her shoulder. Miranda's hair was as dirty as Leethie's but smelled good.

'Like Miranda,' Leethie thought, drawing a deep breath through her nose. She squeezed her back, pulling her in.

'For warmth,' she thought, but her breathing had changed, and a globe of pressure had begun to grow in her belly. She craned her neck to look around the car, but all heads were turned and quiet. The Irish biddies across the aisle were asleep. Miranda's soft warm form molded against her filled Leethie with a sharp need that made her breath shake and mouth wet. She thought of forcing her head down with her hands and felt a wave of weakness.

'For warmth,' she justified.

With her free hand, Leethie had been petting Miranda's arm, but she let it fall to her lap. Under the cover of the windbreaker, she began to slowly work at her belt. She pushed the thick leather strap through the brass buckle frame, careful to be quiet. Pulling it away from herself and freeing the prong from its hole in the strap. Miranda moaned softly as she eased the belt through the other half of the buckle's frame, and spread them to either side of her fly. She undid the button of her shorts, pulling it open and feeling for her zipper.

"Wharoodoin?" Miranda mumbled.

"Shhhh," Leethie shushed. Her hand shook as she jerked the zipper down, and pulled her fly wide. Miranda started to pull away, but Leethie held her in place with the arm around her shoulder, putting her hand on the back of her neck. Miranda tried to slide her arm from around her waist, but with her other hand, Leethie grabbed it.

"No!" Leethie told her, squeezing the bones of her wrist with bruising force and pushing Miranda's hand down her belly.

"Leethie stop," Miranda hissed, curling her fingers back into a fist. Leethie squeezed her wrist with all her strength until Miranda made a tiny high-pitched sound and opened her hand back up.

"Do it,'" Leethie commanded as she forced Miranda's spread fingers into her panties, widening her knees as she did. For a moment Miranda's fingers were stiff and held spread. Leethie squeezed again, her nails digging into the soft skin viciously and Miranda went limp, letting Leethie push her fingers between her thighs. "Now Da."

Leethie was breathing hard through her nose, her head, not so much resting on Miranda's as clamping down on it, helping to immobilize it. Leethie could feel Miranda breathing against her; quick little sips and puffs like a scared rabbit, but then the staccato slowed and her fingers began to move. Leethies hips rolled forward to meet the tentative little pets.

"There," Leethie chided as she loosened her grip on Miranda's wrist and neck. Her fingers traveled into Miranda's hair, twirling the soft silky strands. Miranda made a soft petulant sound, but her fingers continued to gently caress Leethie. "Don't pretend."

Maybe Miranda had been pretending, maybe not, either way her index and middle fingers stretched and pushed smoothly inward. Leethie could feel how wet she must be, Miranda slid through her easily, her fingers curling back up to Leethies clit. She snorted as they found their mark, slipping over and around the hard little bead. Greasy and slick, the tips Miranda's index and middle fingers moved on either side of Leethies pearl, which felt enormous and as hard as steel - like a ball bearing, like the tip of something huge and monstrous.

Sliding up and down the little fleshy trough and occasionally slipping down and pushing deep to wet her fingers, Miranda's caresses fell into rhythm with the swaying of the car on the tracks. Leethie was holding herself as still as she could. She focused her whole self on those two fingertips. Her insides seemed to shake and she could feel the color rising in her cheeks, but it wasn't enough. Miranda had slid her hand down, squeezing it between Leethie's thighs, pushing her fingers in deep, but Leethie could feel the pleasure receding. It wasn't enough.

"Put your fingers in your mouth," she commanded. "I want to see you eat it."

Miranda turned her head and looked up at Leethie, her non-color eyes were enormous and her lashes wet in the low light. Her lips were parted and glistening. She looked like she'd been drooling; looked cowed. No part of Leethie thought she would disobey, she let go of her wrist as Miranda pulled her hand out of her shorts. She slipped her hand out from under the windbreaker and raised her fingers to her lips, they were shaking and dripping wet as she put them in her mouth. Miranda obediently sucked them clean. They stared into each other's eyes as she did.

"Again," Leethie whispered.

Miranda held Leethie's gaze as she slid her fingers from her mouth and carefully drew her hand back under the windbreaker. Leethie felt her trembling fingertips, moist and baby soft, sliding over the flesh of her belly. She felt Miranda's nails finding and prying under the elastic waistband of her panties, pushing down over her smooth hairless mons, and into her pussy. Leethie opened her knees wider, giving her entrance, letting Miranda fuck her with her fingers, first two, then three, then all four. Her thumb moved fast and hard over Leethie's wet clit; mashing it. Finally, the pleasure was beginning to build.

Miranda pumped her fingers faster and faster until the wet sounds seemed loud enough to draw attention and her arm was making the windbreaker visibly jerk. Leethie didn't care. She was squeezing her breast hard as Miranda again withdrew her hand, careful not to touch Leethie or the light jacket with her wet fingers.

Looking into Leethie's eyes she sucked all four of her fingertips in her mouth; conscientiously licking and sucking each finger clean. As her shaking hand retreated back under the jacket Miranda moved her mouth to Leethie's ear.

"Like that?" Miranda whispered in her ear, lisping slightly. The sound of her lips wetly touching and parting was almost as loud as her words. Leethie could hear her pointed tongue washed in saliva. "Am I doing it right?"

Miranda was scraping Leethie's belly with her nails, pushing her panties down until the pads of her fingers were once again caressing Leethie's wet sex.

"Don't stop..."

Miranda's fingers parted and began to slide through Leethie, spreading her wet, painting and soaking her rigid pearl.

Miranda's fingers began to thrum, working up and down, on top and to either side of the sensitive little gem. Her breath quickened against Leethie's ear with the effort. She made small wet sounds and hushed.

Leethie's shoulders were pressed into her backrest, but her neck was stretched forward and she had arched her spine away from the cushion, her ass was barely resting on the edge of the seat. Her knees were spread wide and braced hard against the seatbacks in front of them. Balanced on the balls of her feet, her heels bounced in the air.

Miranda's fast jagged breaths were Leethie's entire universe. The tiny smacks of her tongue and lips, of spit-soaked flesh parting from stony smooth teeth. Miranda's lips closed over Leethie's earlobe. They were warm and wet. She sucked at the fatty lappet, drawing it into her mouth; playing her tongue over the little lobe.

"Hhhhha hhhha aaah," Miranda gasped as she released Leethe's ear. The tiny breathy sounds were like a hurricane slamming into Leethie. her fingers pistoned like a machine spinning out of control.

All at once the storm of throaty sighs and huffs dropped away and were replaced by a muffled sloshing as Miranda's tongue filled Leethie's ear, moving over and filling the hard little bowl with wet fleshy warmth, then pushing inward. The sound of Miranda's tongue trying to force itself into the stony little canal of Leethie's ear was like the surf battering a rock cliff. Rather than from Miranda's furiously moving fingers, Leethie's orgasm had seemed to come from that oceanic meeting of mouth and ear. It blew through Leethie like a wave exploding through a rock cave.

"MmmmnnnnGH-" Leethie moaned loudly before Miranda's wet hand clamped over Her open mouth. Stifling her cry and smearing the stink of her cunt all over her lips, nose, and cheeks.

Leethie made a loud animal noise deep in her throat as her hands clutched at her pussy. With no one to stifle her cries, the whining mew filled the brightly lit hotel room, sounding more miserable than any sound Leethie could remember, but she pushed on, pressing her fingers into herself and she began to sob.

"Smoke and mirrors," her mind echoed, "special effects. A little fear, a little sex".

She worked her hand, trying to tease out the pleasure she craved so wildly and felt so deeply shamed by, but finally, the sobs won out. She covered her eyes with her hands, smearing her wet stink over her face; the taste of it mixing with the brine of her tears.

"That's all love is behind the tears," her mind rumbled. "Smoke and mirrors..."