Back To Fucked Up: Healing

Hours had passed. Jessica felt almost human, or whatever it was she was supposed to feel like when she was normal. She was still tired, but it had become something else, something cozy. And she knew that had everything to do with being in Trish’s arms. Fuck, the only thing that could make it better was if Trish had just fucked her. At a time like this, the last time Trish fucked her still felt good, no matter how many years tried to bury it.

Jessica groaned aloud. She was still in love with her high school crush. Her high school crush slash foster sister. Her life had become weirder than the weirdest porn she’d ever jilled off to. Her brushes with normalcy had all crashed and burned. Now it was back to usual. Back to fucked up. But as fucked up as she was, as Trish was, as they were together, wrong felt better than right ever had. Her brand of wrong. Trish’s brand of wrong. It had everything else beat to shit.

“Am I hurting you?” Trish asked, hearing the groan, uncoiling a little from her big spoon embrace of Jessica. “Holding you too tight?”

Jessica shook her head. She couldn’t even really feel the welts anymore. “I love it when you hold me too tight. And I love it when you hurt me.”

Trish stopped loosening her grip, but didn’t tighten it again either. The slackness was torture. “Ever hear of a dry-drunk?”

“Tell me to shut the fuck up again,” Jessica said, so solemnly that Trish almost did it by rote. 

She’d do anything for Jessica. She just never quite knew what to do. “No,” Trish said.

“Okay then.” Jessica twisted around in Trish’s embrace so they were chest to chest, nothing platonic in their embrace, nothing sisterly. “I couldn’t risk it before, I ran from it in a million different directions, but I can’t tell anymore if I’m fucking you up or you’re fucking me up. I just want to go back to how things were.”

“How what was?” Trish insisted, knowing full well what Jessica meant.

“You know.”

“Tell me,” Trish instructed her firmly.

Jessica gulped. She was so used to Trish handling her with kid gloves that she wasn’t used to the commanding tone, the authority when she let Trish tell her what to do. “I want to be your bitch again. I want you to be my mistress. I wanna feel your cock up my ass. I wanna come like I only came for you.” She choked. “I wanna be in love like only you loved me.”

Trish shut her eyes. “You fucking idiot, you wasted so much time.” That was all she said before kissing Jessica, their mouths pressing together like they would never part.

Jessica tasted the familiar flavor of Trish’s lips and thought she could feel all the bullshit that usually took up space in her head moving out. It had to make room for the good memories. She didn’t have many, but everything to do with Trish was sweet.

Trish sucked Jessica’s tongue between her teeth, gently biting down on it, reminding Jessica that she wasn’t going to be gentle, wasn’t going to let Jessica run roughshod over her like she did everyone else. If Jessica wanted to be her bitch, then she would be exactly that. 

Making it particularly ironic that Jessica felt no pain as Trish ran her hands over Jessica’s lotion-slick body, healing, whole, the painkiller having relieved her suffering. Now all the sensations in her body belonged to Trish.

“Mine,” Trish purred, taking Jessica’s modest breast in her hand, squeezing just roughly enough to arouse some pain. Like the rasp of a cat’s tongue as it licked its owner. Not that Jessica thought she owned Trish, no more than anyone owned any cat. This little hellcat owned her.

“Uh-huh,” Jessica breathed.

“Not letting you go again,” Trish promised, molding her hand to the mound of flesh as if relearning its supple shape, committing it to memory, never to be forgotten. 

The nipple became a fiery red, Jessica’s blood pounding in her breast with the fire Trish put it in. Trish took the erect button between her fingers and twisted it until Jessica moaned in relieved pain. Anyone else who messed with her like that would have their bones on the outside. But Trish—she belonged to Trish. 

Maybe that was why the sweet pain she felt didn’t even seem to hurt. It was good torture, intense enough to break through the bullshit that life piled onto her and the loneliness Jessica gathered around herself. Trish’s fingers were feather light even as they dominated Jessica.

“What are you thinking about, Jess?” Trish asked.

Jessica was barely breathing. “Only you.”

Trish put her mouth to Jessica’s breast. “Then say my name.” She took Jessica’s tortured nipple into her mouth. She sucked.

All thoughts of acid and casework and booze and rent slipped out of Jessica’s mind. With Trish touching her, the bad fell off her, slippery like Trish’s hands roamed her oil-slick flesh. And the feel of Trish’s mouth around her nipple, and the sight of Trish’s golden blonde hair in its crazed disarray on Jessica’s chest, sticking to her lotioned body, even that seeming to claim her. 

“Trish,” Jessica moaned. She felt bizarrely like she was praying. “Trish…”

Trish went to her other breast, tongue coming out to touch the marble of a nipple that was waiting expectantly for her. Trish drove her tongue straight into the hardness, crushing it into Jessica’s small breast, then pushed it around in a circle to stimulate it from every angle. 

Jessica sounded like she was begging: “Trish—Trish—Trish.” She also sounded thankful, which Trish could barely recognize in her voice.

Trish went back to Jessica’s left nipple, more swollen than ever in her absence, in Jessica’s need. She drew it into her mouth, nipping at it lightly, Jessica gasping at every little touch of her teeth. Finally she caught the nipple in her teeth and dug into the firm nubbin. Jessica’s entire body surged.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop! Your fucking mouth… fucking making me come with your mouth…”

Trish had no intention of stopping, not ever again. She loved the taste of Jessica’s breasts. She wouldn’t do without them anymore. She tightened her lips around Jessica’s stinging nipple and lowered her hand down all of Jessica’s lithe body, between her legs. 

Her fingers strayed through the jungle of Jessica’s pubic hair—as raw and roughhewn as the rest of her—and down over Jessica’s mound and all the way under it to get between her buttocks. She slid the pad of her middle finger across Jessica’s asshole. Jessica’s eyes fluttered in their sockets.

“That’s mine too,” Trish reminded her.

Jessica smirked weakly at her. “If it’s yours,” she sighed, “then fuck it.”

Trish’s finger slunk away—now circling around in the tangled thatch of Jessica’s pubic hair, stirring them and pulling at them, making the buried nerve endings play to her tune. “Don’t tell me what to do, Jess. From now on, I give the orders.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jessica said sardonically, almost tossing off a salute to go with it.

Trish pushed down hard on the pubic bone, then moved to bathe her fingers in Jessica’s flowing juices. “Say that like you mean it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jessica said, softer, breathing less.

Trish worked two fingers inside of her. Jessica jerked like she’d been shot. “Fuck!”

Trish pulled her hand away, worried she’d injured Jessica. But she didn’t see anything on her fingers but Jessica’s lust. 

Jessica took her hand and guided it back between her legs. “I didn’t realize how sensitive you’d made me. Christ, nothing else feels like you feel. You hurt so good…”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Trish protested.

Jessica almost growled with need. “It only hurt for a second. Then it felt good. Please, Trish. I promise it doesn’t really hurt. It just… it’s so real…”

Trish’s fingertips traced the slickness of Jessica’s cunt, as if searching for any pain, anything that would drive her to call off what she was doing. She sealed the delicate pink folds between her fingers and ran her grip tantalizingly along Jessica’s slit. She worked her fingernails inside and along the petals of Jessica’s cunt, driving Jessica to breathe like the air was electric, and then she came to the tiny bud of Jessica’s clit.

Trish toyed with the small button, played with it in the certainty that she owned it, and Jessica let out a soft groan of pleasure that could only come from being owned. Her whole body heaved and clenched as Trish stroked from the slightly broad base all the way to the miniscule tip. There, Trish pushed down the swollen flesh, and as Jessica’s passion was at an apex, she let it go to spring back to attention. 

Jessica moaned louder. “Good! So fucking good! Suck on it, Trish! Please suck me there…”

“And if I do…” Trish started down Jessica’s body, crawling backwards and getting closer and closer to the source of the throbbing she could actually see going through Jessica’s flesh. “You’ll come for me? Like a good girl?”

“I’ll come for you, yes, I’ll come for you! I’ll be a good girl and come!”

Trish lowered her head down to Jessica’s groin, licking up her girlfriend’s arousal like she was kittenishly lapping up milk from a saucer. Jessica let out a sob—so close and yet so far away. She pulled at her own hair, unwilling to complain, but needing Trish to keep going so badly.

“Sweet, baby,” Trish sighed, though tasting the salt and the tang and the slight alkaline flavor of the ointment that she’d applied. But above all else, tasting Jessica. “You’re just so fucking sweet…”

Trish’s wet tongue, just rough enough to be interesting, coursed along her pussy lips. They left Jessica feeling like a woman, not a piece of meat, not a weapon. She relaxed at the same time as she tensed, luxuriating in the feeling that was destroying her. When Trish’s tongue played along her engorged clit, Jessica came then and there.

Trish’s mouth didn’t just make Jessica feel like she was in Heaven, it made her believe in a Heaven to be in. The sensation stopped shuddering through her, but left a warmth that Jessica could fucking bathe in. And Trish wasn’t letting up. She had told Jessica to come for her and just once wasn’t good enough. Her tongue slotted into Jessica’s sex. Trish’s inner folds rippled around the feeling that rolled around inside her. When Trish drank the cream that was welling up inside her, Jessica climaxed again.

Both pain and pleasure were in her tattered flesh, all of her nerves holding some of each. The good came from Trish, as usual, shining into Jessica like a warm light. The bad was all over her battered body, clinging to her like mud. But it couldn’t win. Trish made her just keep coming and coming, Jessica writhing underneath her, moaning and screaming, fuck her neighbors, she’d listened to their bullshit for years, they could listen to how fucking happy she was for one night.

Trish groaned. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to taste your pussy again?”

“Fuck, babe, mistress, please tell me I came enough for you?”

Trish raised her head, smiled through a faceful of Jessica’s honey. “What do you think?”

“Good.” Jessica rolled over, lifted up the heart-shaped ass that bulged out from her slight frame, showing Trish the sphincter that was throbbing for her between her buttocks. “I need it in the ass, Trish. I need you to fuck my ass. I need to be your anal bitch again.”

“Jesus Christ, Jess,” Trish said, unable to believe what she was seeing, what Jessica was offering her. An hour ago Jessica had been laid up in bed, taking her usual dose of Trish’s grudgingly unconditional support. A day ago, Trish had been pissed at Jessica for being Jessica. Now all of that tradition had broken down. Jessica’s need was right out there with Trish’s own.

“Dildo under the mattress,” Jessica said. “Right side. It’s big enough. Shit, I think about you when I use it anyway.”

Trish found it—a big black shaft. She doubted she was the only one who Jessica thought about when she used it. But from now on, she swore, when Jessica got fucked, she’d know it was Trish who owned her ass. She quickly lubed up the dildo, same lotion as before, and spat into Jessica’s asshole. That was the only lubrication an anal slut like Jessica needed.

Crouching behind Jessica’s prone body, Trish tightened her grip on the dildo and fitted its tip to the tightly muscled ring of Jessica’s asshole. With her other hand, she dug her fingers into Jessica’s hip to hold them steady. Then she pushed in hard, stabbing the first few inches of the dildo into the taboo pressure that was hers once more. 

Jessica grunted, grimaced, enjoying herself obscenely as she felt her asshole forcibly being stretched. The stiffness of the dildo lodged inside her--Trish refused to be denied. Jessica was hers: pleasure, submission, all of her was offered up to Trish on demand.

“Oh yes, fuck me!” Jessica cried, actual tears in her eyes. “My ass belongs to you! My ass is fucking yours, Trish!” She delivered herself to the dildo, pistoning and grinding her ass into its own impalement. “So fucking good—only thing that feels good—doesn’t hurt—doesn’t hurt enough—ggghh! Fuck my ass until it hurts! Fuck my ass until I come for you!”

“Fucking slut,” Trish spat, pulling out until only the tip of the dildo was still inside the ring, then packing it all back in. Jessica squealed as Trish filled her ass. “I broke this ass in and I’m still the only one who knows how to fuck it.”

Now, much as she wanted to outright ruin her own hole on Trish’s cock, Jessica forced herself to hold still and let Trish sodomize her. It got easier. Jessica was soon unable to move even if she wanted to, her eyes rolled back in her head as Trish rhythmically pistoned the dildo into Jessica’s welcoming ass.

“Harder, fuck my ass harder!” Jessica’s squeals had gotten so loud they could probably hear her all the way from the Bronx to Hell’s Kitchen, all of her little Defender friends knowing she was getting fucked, getting goddamn plowed like the slut she was, the bitch Mistress Trish owned. “Unh! Unh! Uhhh! I’m so fucking horny! Such a fucking slut for this!”

Trish smiled. She thought of whispering to Jessica that Matt Murdock, at least, could probably hear what an anal whore she was, but thought better of it. Jessica was too far gone to grasp anything at that point. Trish would tell her before round two. Once her asshole had healed enough for Trish to destroy it all over again.

“Jerk yourself off!” Trish ordered her. “Make yourself come for me.”

“Yes, yes Trish, anything…” Shamelessly Jessica jerked her hand down under her belly, filling her cunt with her own fingers. “Shit, I’m coming! Fuck me, fuck the come right out of me, your fat cock—I’m coming, mistress, I’m coming on your cock in my asssss…”

Jessica’s splayed anus throbbed violently, bringing a smile to Trish’s face as it convulsively sucked at the dildo. Trish gave it all it could take, burying the dildo up Jessica’s ass to the point of losing it. Thankfully, she was too responsible to let that happen. Jessica would’ve fucking sat on the thing if it got her off. 

Finally, when Jessica was loose and crying and soft, Trish pulled the dildo away and tossed it aside, then climbed back up the bed to be the big spoon again. Jessica flowed into her embrace like she was a puddle being picked up by a sponge. Trish petted her, stroked her, now only feeling the creamy perfection of her flawless skin. 

“Mine,” she said, petting Jessica’s hair, soft as her supple flesh.

“Uh-huh,” Jessica agreed.

“You have ten minutes to enjoy the afterglow. Then you’re going down there and you’re eating my pussy.”

“No wonder you have your own talk show. Always giving such good advice.”

“That wasn’t advice, bitch. If you don’t do it, I’m taking my belt to your ass until you need a whole new coat of paint.”

Jessica grinned. It was fucked up, but she liked dominant Trish a lot better than nagging Trish. Not that she’d ever say so—not before she was ready for that belt on her ass. For now, there was no way she was missing out on getting to make her mistress come. 

She’d missed out enough already.