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Athletic

Author’s note: There’s no actual sex here – well none that is detailed – but this is a very, very necessary part of the adventures of Dallas and Debbie. Sex should always be fun, should always be a shared pleasure. Beware, when that isn’t true…

*****

It’s strange how things can change your priorities and perspectives, isn’t it? Or maybe not so strange when the ‘thing’ in question is sexual assault.

Whatever, as Belle next door is so fond of saying.

In the two days following my own harrowing experience of assault – okay, I’ll say it, of rape – I found my priorities and sentiments vacillating wildly. Debbie, though, my beloved Terror, somehow managed to help me maintain focus and put the brakes firmly but gently on any descent towards dark oblivion that took my fancy.

In just a few weeks she had changed me more than any wannabe bikers could ever dream of. She had freed me to be me – and no one was going to take that away. I know, of course, that she must have been struggling with her own demons of self-blame and self-hate, but for both our sakes she kept that all tightly battened down. Is it any wonder I worship her?

The day after the fateful trip to the forest we simply lazed around the villa, not even venturing as far as the local wine bar where our new neighbours seemed to spend every waking leisure hour – and from where they salvaged a few bottles of cold beer for us. I know we ate, although while I recall Debbie bustling around in the kitchen I’m afraid to say I cannot remember a single mouthful of what we actually tucked into.

We made love as well – often – and that I do recall very clearly. I needed my Terror’s love and excitement more than perhaps I realised at the time. And I do remember very clearly how she gave and would not take – not self-flagellation this time, but something closer to a need in her to administer a medicine to me that I didn’t even understand I needed so badly.

It would be tantamount to melodramatic claptrap to say that my Debbie saved me – but she certainly made sure that I survived my ordeal intact in many an important way.

On the second day we started to plan my revenge in detail and by the evening everything was taking on a much clearer view. Thanks, again, to my Debbie.

As I said at the start of this, my priorities flickered and rearranged themselves like the flames of a campfire in a strong breeze. But priority one shone through them all, unaltered and unwavering. My life and my future with my Terror, of course.

The third day saw us waking at, for us, the unusually early hour of seven, and after a fun-filled shared shower we were sitting – naked, naturally in every sense – on the grass in front of our brick-built barbecue, sipping at coffee and soaking up the early morning sunlight.

“Dallas,” Debbie said after a few minutes, “What would you like to do today?”

I looked over at her and smiled, “You, naturally.”

It earned a half-smile, “That’s a given. But I meant, what about Sunday?”

“The day of departure, you mean?” It was when the would-be bikers were due to return their vehicles – and therefore when my revenge was being planned. When Debbie nodded I continued, “I want to go out somewhere and find the gun.”

“Okay… And you’re totally sure about this?”

I nodded, “Stop keep asking that or I may end up shooting you as well! More to the point are you sure you can get hold of one?”

I received another half-smile and she shuffled closer to me, “It’ll cost, but yes.”

“Then that’s the plan for the day. My bank account is all yours.”

“And the bullets?”

I gave a mock frown, “You already know that’s a firm ‘yes’ – just so long as you’re in agreement with my plan.”

Debbie kissed the tip of my nose and took the mug from my hands, standing, “That’s a very firm ‘yes’ as well, then. Just so long as we do it together.”

I stood as well, hooking my arm through Debbie’s as we headed inside for refills. “I may never let you out of my sight ever again. And don’t apologise once more or I really will save one of those slugs for you!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll keep my ‘sorrys’ to myself then.”

I swatted her delightful rump, “That was almost a very sneaky way of apologising, you know?”

She laughed then, “So I’m a sneak as well as a terror?”

“My sneak and my Terror.”

“I’ll settle for being them, and I guess you’ll be dragging along with me later, won’t you?”

I nodded, “Absolutely. I meant every word when I said I might never let you out of my sight again.” I accepted my refilled mug from Debbie, “And besides, this guy who has the guns sounds decidedly dodgy. I might be no great shakes if anything nasty happens but I can at least offer you some support.”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay, Dallas, but I think I will rather appreciate your presence. My cousin reckons the guy’s all right for a Frenchie – her words, not mine – but Carole’s never exactly been great shakes at judging guys.”

We were walking back into güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri the bright morning sun, “She’s the one with the four kids?”

Debbie gave a little chuckle, “Yep. One for every year she’s been out of school now. And roughly one per boyfriend as well. Carole’s the one I described to you as twenty-one and never been kissed. Fucked loads of times, but never kissed.”

I perched on the edge of the barbecue, sharing her amusement, “Are all of your family slightly bonkers?”

“Absolutely,” Debbie nodded, “Even I’m bat-shit crazy. But just for you, of course.”

“Debbie! Where’s that bucket?”

She giggled then, and somehow the sound of her happiness eased the last part of the real me back into place. But even amid the smiles and laughs and love, I knew that there was a whole new part of me there as well – and the day’s gun-hunt wasn’t necessary to reinforce that nascent dark presence.

The serious nature of the visit to Debbie’s cousin’s friend – or rather ‘acquaintance’ – was, in the end, little more than a fairly pleasant drive through the wooded hills behind the town which we were currently calling home for a while. My lover was in slightly tense high spirits and spent much of the journey filling me in on some of her relations’ less savoury tendencies, as well as explaining how Carole had acquired the friendship of any number of contacts both back in the UK and in places like this one.

“One day,” she told me, “I’m going to try for the impossible and introduce her knees to each other. It must be years since they’ve even seen each other.”

“Leave the poor girl alone!” I laughed, “Remember, she’s the one who’s helping us.”

Debbie said something presumably off-colour in French to a wobbling cyclist, and shrugged, “It remains to be seen whether this Pascal guy can really help.”

I wasn’t really concerned for some reason but I had to ask, “I thought you said that Carole said he was just the guy?”

“I’m sure he is but I’m just a tiny bit worried about the price.”

It was my turn to shrug, “Like I said, my bank account is yours – and it’s not exactly empty.”

“From what Carole has told me, I’m not so sure that Euros are the only currency this guy is interested in. And I’m not talking Dollars or Yen, either.”

I stared at her agape, “Hear me now, Debbie – there is no way this Pascal guy is getting anything more than money from you!”

She shrugged, “She only means a show of skin and maybe a touch or two. I can afford that after all I put you through.”

“Then it’s no deal!” I was building a fair head of steam, “For a start it wasn’t you who put me through anything and most of all you are mine, you hear me?” Most of the village we were passing through could probably have heard me, “For fuck’s sake, Debs, I love you and you are not – never and in no way – going to barter yourself to any piece of low-life shit whether he has what we need or not!”

My Terror slowed the car and pulled to the side of the leafy lane, two wheels now buried in long grass. She turned to me then with tears forming in her big blue eyes, “Say what you like, Dallas, but I owe you and I know it. If this-“

“No!

“Dallas,” my Terror said quietly, “Have you ever considered that maybe I need to do this for whatever peace it can help bring my way? I want you to get back at those bikers, and I want to help you in every way I can. If that means this Pascal freak gets a free fondle of my tits, is that really such a big deal?”

Her words struck home but I still wasn’t finished, “Well, no, I guess, but for one thing it doesn’t feel that much different to what those bikers did to me, and for another what if the freak, as you call him, wants more than a quick feel of your tits?”

“For a start, it’s nothing like the lack of choice you had in matters and if he wants more? Then he gets told to shove it up his own ass and we find another way of getting your revenge.”

I stared hard at her but her words were making sense. With her stated guarantee that things would go no further than a quick feel, maybe I could tolerate it the one time – the last thing I needed to say on the tasteless subject. “Once and once only, then. And that still hurts like fuck.”

Debbie reached across the gear-shaft and tugged me into an awkward, seatbelt-hampered embrace, “Thank you, Dallas. You know I love you, and know now I really mean it when I say I will do anything for you.”

I kissed the tip of her nose, “I’m still not entirely happy with this, you know? But with you I’m delighted.”

Debbie let out a sigh, pecked my own nose, settled back behind the wheel and then popped open her door. “Good, and likewise. Now let’s get it done, we’re at the end of the path leading to his house.”

“We are?” I looked over her shoulder as she clambered out and could just make out a rough pathway through the long grass we had stopped on. “Ah, I see it.”

I scooted out of the car and caught up with my Terror just a güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri few feet along the path, the car left unlocked behind us. I took Debbie’s hand as we almost trotted along the unkempt asphalt, noting that her palm was moist but unsure – and too wrapped up to ask – whether that was mostly from nervousness or the relentless heat. We reached a ramshackle building within a couple of minutes and any query I might have had was proved moot as the door opened as we reached the front step and a young-looking guy – maybe twenty or so – with straggly, long dark hair, held up a hand.

“Vous etes… Pardon, you are English, yes? Deborah and… Dallas?”

“I speak French well enough,” Debbie said, “But my wife-to-be, here, only speaks English so we would appreciate everything in our native tongue. And yes, we’re Debbie – never Deborah, please – and Dallas. I take it you’re Pascal?”

He nodded, “Certain… certainly. Follow me. Your cousin Carole has told me all you need.”

Beside me I felt Debbie draw a deep breath before she stepped inside and headed down a narrow hallway to a room that was in perfect keeping with the dilapidated building that surrounded it. There were tables overflowing with every sort of junk imaginable – including half-eaten pizzas and one mangy-looking cat – but two chairs had been set in front of an old desk, and I watched as the young Frenchman took a chair behind it’s scarred length and motioned us into the waiting seats. I squeezed Debbie’s hand and finally, reluctantly, released it as we took our positions.

I has expected Pascal to be both older and less business-like, but he further surprised me by producing a neat-looking wooden box and a smaller cardboard one, both of which he set on the furthest edge of his desk, nearest to us. “As Carole requested from me, there is one small pistol – a revolver, in fact – and some ammunition.”

Debbie nodded, “Thank you.” She took another deeper breath, “And now what do I owe you?”

I think both Debbie and I were holding our breaths ahead of the reply, so it was with some surprise that they were released very easily when Pascal said, “Fifty euros, no more under the…” He glanced at me properly for the first time, “Horrible circumstances.”

It was all over so fast and with such little fuss that I could scarcely believe we were so soon back in the car and seated in a daze, one small bag on the floor beside my feet. “I guess,” I managed at length, “I was getting all too worried for no reason.”

Debbie laughed, “Judging by what he whispered to me in French while you were packing the bag, maybe not. He said that we were both – both, note – so good-looking that he would normally have asked to see us making out while he watched!”

I shrugged, relief clouding my judgment, “I’m not so sure I would have denied him that much.”

“Dallas! You are the terror, not me!”

“Well it’s not like we haven’t been seen before, and I seem to recall you rather like that.

“I’m not the only one, am I?” She started the car and pulled away, “But what say right now we go back to our place and have some much more private fun? You seem to be back to yourself a good way now.”

I nodded, “Now that’s dealt with, I kinda feel it. Once Sunday is done with, I’m pretty sure you’ll be seeing the old me again.”

Debbie giggled, “I will relish every inch I see, I promise you.”

And right up to the minute before we left for the bike lender on Sunday morning, my Terror got to see every inch of me – several times.

We arrived before the place had even opened and parked behind the main building away from prying eyes – not, for a change, so that our naughty activities were unseen but this time so that no one could possibly associate us with our car. I was strangely calm, more so than Debbie, and as alien as the now-loaded revolver felt in my unshaking hand, I was feeling positive about my forthcoming actions. Debbie, it seemed, was less certain now that the time had arrived, though.

“Are you really sure, Dallas? I mean, one slip and you could do one of them some serious damage with that thing.”

I looked over at her as we slid from the car and took up our places behind a stand of trees, “I’m sure, Debs, and in any case, if I do end up slipping at any time I’m not really that fussed if one of them cops more than we plan. They deserve it.”

She shrugged, “I guess I can’t argue with that but I just don’t want to see you get locked up and taken away from me.”

“You won’t as long as we stick to the plan,” I hugged her tightly, “But are you sure you want to play tease to them grease-balls?”

In answer Debbie unzipped the front of her dress a few inches and leaned forward, “For you, Dallas, they can see as much as it takes to get them looking my way. Do you reckon I’m their type?”

I managed a soft giggle, “I can see you nipples down that dress! You’re anyone’s type.”

She returned my laugh, the tension in her voice the only sign güvenilir bahis şirketleri of her nerves now, “I just hope it all goes to plan. This could be kinda fun in a dark, dark, dark way.”

“Well it-” The sound of an approaching engine cut me short and we crouched down out of sight to see the owner of the place roll up on an oversized touring motorbike.

We watched in silence, our fingers intertwined as the middle-aged guy unlocked the shutters and door and then proceeded to drive out in a very small, very rusty, VW camper van which, we presumed, was the vehicle actually owned by the gruesome trio who were returning their rentals this very day. And who had, Debbie reminded me with a shaky whisper, raped me.

The ‘r’ word seemed to be some sort of trigger for me, sending my mind and body – and my aching memory – onto a different plane. It should, I knew, have horrified me but instead it just spread calm determination through every fibre of my being. It was a reaction that Debbie had come to learn in the days leading up to this return date, and I love her so much for being able to instigate that feeling in me right then. We sat down and waited.

Being in the very south of the country we had presumed that the would-be bikers were going to return their borrowed bikes early in the day given how far they were going to be driving later – or thought they were going to be – and having seen the old van that they must have arrived in, that strengthened our thinking. Any tiny doubts that we might have been harbouring were dispelled very shortly afterwards when the rumble of three engines cut through the morning air.

Debbie rose and pulled me to my feet, “Have a peek, and if that’s them – which it must be, surely? – kiss me once and send me on my way!”

I glanced out from behind the tree, our cover, and nodded. Wordlessly at first I turned back to Debbie, planted my lips firmly on hers, and then whispered, “Remember I love you, and remember not to take any silly chances.”

I could see the nervousness in her big baby blues, but she nodded and tried to smile, “You got it, my lover.”

Before either of us could change our minds, she spun away and slinked along towards the lane leading to the dealership. I watched her go, determined that I would be welcoming her back into my arms – and my life – before many minutes had passed, and with my revenge complete without any harm done. To Debbie and I, anyway.

When my Terror was out of sight I followed along the path she had taken until I reached the gateway that separated the dealership from the road proper, and took up my planned position, ready to step out when the time came, when Debbie would be speaking to the driver of what we now knew to be the rapists’ camper van. She couldn’t have been more than a few metres away from me but I could neither see nor hear her and I just hoped and prayed that she was calm and not too scared. I certainly held no fear, and even a mounting excitement at the thought of my revenge to come did not seem to bring the shivers or trembles I normally associated with arousal of any sort.

I sat then, breathing calmly and deeply, and was weirdly glad that I had left my wristwatch back at our summer house, unwilling to count passing minutes since the absence of a true method seemed to make time pass more quickly. Debbie, I knew, had chosen the same tactic and I hoped that time was passing as seemingly swiftly for her as it was for me.

It was strangely odd, then, as the sound of an old van’s engine approaching had me lurching to my feet, suddenly wired up and hyper-alert.

Ahead of me, unseen, I heard foliage snapping and bending as Debbie must have hauled herself out to the gate that separated the dealership’s long lane from the road that passed by. I saw a blur of faded purple to my left and knew that our quarry was leaving.

I stepped from cover, checking that the dealership was definitely obscured by a bend in the lane, before turning and seeing brake lights – well one brake light – glow ahead of me as the van came to a halt. Debbie stepped properly forward then with her arms waving above her head – the damsel in distress, not to mention in a summery dress that appeared to be open almost to the waist now. Even from my position about twenty metres behind the vehicle I swear I could see two dark pink curves of flesh where her nipples threatened to tumble from the garment.

I was totally unsurprised when the van’s driver stopped completely and even less surprised when the vehicle’s driver door opened and ‘black’ slipped out to speak to my Terror.

A blonde head appeared in the van’s doorway as I walked quietly up to the rear of the van, but no one had eyes trained behind them, all of the would-be bikers unsurprisingly focused on Debbie who was, I heard as I closed the gap, apparently a young French woman whose ‘voiture’ had broken down just a little way along the road.

I didn’t allow myself to assign names to the three guys just then – nothing remotely personal was in my mind – and stepped forward with the revolver held steadily before me.

“Hello, little men.”

Black spun on his heel and I could see understanding flash across his eyes before their focus dropped to the gun in my hand.

“Hey! Hold it, babes. You know it was just a bit of fun, right?”

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