Avoid reading this in public... if you catch my drift ;)
Chapter 11
It has been two weeks now since Brittany had been thrown out of the house by Mr Fabray, but it might as well have been yesterday. Santana could still see how Brittany's face contorted in pain when the taser came into contact with her bare skin, screaming her lungs out as it hurt so much. Santana could still see the way Brittany's body hung limply across Mr Fabray's shoulder as he carried her out like dead livestock, lifeless. Even though Santana thought that she had seen enough, been through enough trauma in her life to be immune to these incredibly cruel acts, what she saw still broke her heart and haunted her at night.
She wasn't sure why she felt so strongly towards this: after all, it wasn't anything that she hadn't seen before. At least no blood was shed, so in a way, what Mr Fabray did was more humane than what her third master did to her. While it was not sexual abuse most of the time, the thought of it still made her shudder. Maybe the reason behind why this haunted her so much is because Brittany was her first true friend: they had each other's backs during her first few months in the Fabray Estate and over time, their friendship had grown immensely, eventually getting to the point where they can be completely comfortable with each other, joking around and acting like little kids.
Santana still remembered the time when she confronted Brittany for the first time, the first time they had a conversation. It was after Brittany got beaten up pretty badly and Santana found her hiding in the wardrobe, trying to stop herself from whimpering due to the pain of the wounds. Well, Brittany had been pretty stubborn and refused Santana's help at first, but eventually she relented. It felt really good, to be able to help someone get better. It was probably at that moment that Santana found some meaning in life, that she was not worthless, a piece of junk that could be tossed away without a second thought.
And of course, Quinn. Quinn had more or less been her everything throughout these months. She had been so supportive, so patient. Santana was now proud to say that she was able to read fluently now and is able to spell simple words quite well, and can write to some extent. She found that her handwriting is small and tidy, whereas Quinn's handwriting was large and loopy. They were both good in their own ways. That aside, what Quinn had also done over the past few months was heal Santana. Other than the physical healing that she did in the first week, which was incredibly effective by the way, as if it wasn't for all the scars that remind Santana of what she went through, she wouldn't know that she had hurt in the first place, Quinn had also done a lot of emotional healing. Now Santana walked with an admirable posture, carrying herself with an elegance that she did not possess before she set foot in the Fabray Estate. Santana found that to be mainly due to more self-esteem and confidence, because Quinn made her feel like she was more than nothing.
And of course, Santana couldn't help but start falling in love with the blonde. She hasn't said anything of the sort yet, they haven't even regarded each other as anything but best friends who kiss all the time, because she didn't want to scare the blonde off. She had a feeling that if she came up to Quinn one day and said, 'I love you', she would just slam the door back shut and want nothing to do with the brunette ever again.
Santana's life was going pretty great right now. She was so happy that Quinn reciprocated her feelings, if anything she initiated it. Santana didn't know that she was attracted to the blonde until she felt her lips on hers for the first time.
Except more recently, like over the past few days, Santana found herself starting to notice more things about her master. Well, Quinn had made it pretty clear that she was not Santana's master, so maybe she should stop referring to Quinn as her master. Anyway, Santana didn't know how she didn't see it before: Quinn's lithe figure, the way how her clothes sometimes clung to her curves, the gorgeous contours of her face. Also sometimes, Santana would find herself leering at Quinn's cleavage, given that it is there to see if she was wearing something low-cut. Quinn would look up and Santana would blush like an idiot, caught in the act.
These new sensations frightened the brunette. Partly because she did not know how to deal with all these new feelings that she felt. So far, it had all been innocent kisses, cuddles at night, and nothing else. And now, Santana found herself wanting more.
Never had Santana wanted sex before. If anything, sex was a punishment, something so unpleasurable that Santana would do anything that she could to get away from it. But now, with all these weird sensations that pool around her legs whenever Quinn's shorts rode up a little too high, Santana was having second thoughts.
It was a little funny: if someone said that Santana would crave sex a year ago, Santana would've slapped them in the face as the idea was so ludicrous.
Santana sighed and continued to scrub at the dishes, not really paying attention to them. Ever since Brittany had gone, Santana had taken on the duty of doing some of the chores that were completely necessary, such as cooking and laundry. She didn't really bother herself with cleaning the house or trimming the grass, because if she was going to be honest, she couldn't be bothered to. They were time-consuming, boring and she had done enough of that kind of things for a lifetime, and she was only eighteen.
She was worried about Brittany, but she was convinced that Brittany was alright. She'll find a way.
"It's raining," Quinn pouted as the two of them sat on the bed, watching the raindrops trickle down the glass on the window. It was starting to get dark, so the sky was some form of dark orange, as it has taken an orange hue due to the sun setting, and the storm clouds that were hovering over them made the sky darker than it should be.
"I know," Santana said. "It's been raining all day, Quinn."
"Still, I can't help but wonder what Brittany is doing," Quinn sighed. "She was the longest-serving slave of the family, you know?" she turned to meet Santana's gaze. "I seriously thought that she was the one that we will keep. She's good at what she does."
"Brittany is probably living out the city life right now," Santana said lightly, trying to steer them away from being in an ominous mood. "Just like we did back then, when we got all that food which made me sick."
"Hopefully," Quinn bit her lip. "I don't know how she would get any money, however. Or how she would get any shelter. She's probably going to sleep in the rain."
"Well, at least it's not cold," Santana shrugged. "It could be worse."
"What if she got recognised as a slave? What if she just got claimed?" Quinn said.
"Then she'll have food to eat," Santana mumbled, because that would be the best way to think about that. "I don't think that we should worry about her," she said. "She's strong, smarter than she may let on. She'll be fine. Worrying about her will not change anything."
"I know," Quinn sighed. "I kind of want to go out there and find her. But I have no idea where to look. It would be like looking for a grain of rice in a swimming pool."
"I guess," Santana said contemplatively. She really wanted to get the subject away from Brittany now, because it is making both of them sad and she doesn't like it. Therefore, she scooted closer to the blonde and rested her head against Quinn's chest, looking out the window. Her head was slightly tilted so the raindrops were travelling diagonally, but it was still beautiful. "Tell me something, Quinn," Santana mumbled, as she got comfortable.
She felt Quinn's hands start to smooth her long mane of brunette hair. "What is it, San?"
"Why do I not see you go to school, like ever? I've seen little kids go to school sometimes, and you're not technically an adult yet, so, um, why?" Santana asked tentatively.
Quinn's hands were starting to make a steady, soothing rhythm. "I quit last year," she admitted.
Santana tilted her head up slightly to look at Quinn. "Why?" she asked, not in judgement, but in curiosity. If Santana ever had the opportunity to go to school, she would take it instantly. But maybe that is because she had been deprived of education her whole life. Maybe if she wasn't born a slave and got to go to school from a very young age she would find it boring eventually. Guess being a slave makes one value things more, doesn't it?
"I was in school when, you know, before my mum died. I was actually really good. I wasn't the best, but I was consistently in the top five in the class at those end of topic tests, I had good grades, I was quite popular, the teachers liked me too," Quinn explained. "But, um, after what happened to my mum, I kind of lost all motivation. My grades started to slip, I started to cut myself from my friends. I was miserable, and since you could quit after the final exams when you're sixteen, I decided that school was not going to do me any good so I left."
"Oh," Santana said in understanding, casting her gaze back towards the amber sky. "Do you regret it?"
"A little," Quinn shrugged. "But I feel like it wouldn't have made a difference whether or not I quit. I wasn't in the right mental… mindset to learn anything anyway."
"I guess that's fair enough," Santana mumbled, watching two raindrops fuse together and continue its path down the window. A few seconds passed before Santana twisted herself slightly and looked straight into Quinn's eyes. "What about your dreams, Quinn?"
"My dreams?" Quinn chuckled. "Well, I haven't really thought much about it. Back when I was young, I had considered being a surgeon, just like my mum." Santana's eyes widened a little. So that was what her mum did professionally. She wondered what Mr Fabray did, and what made the Fabrays so wealthy, provided that Mr Fabray was their main income source. "But that kind of went out the window when, um, you know what happened," Quinn said slightly wistfully. "Being a doctor, let alone a surgeon, takes years of training anyway. If I was to pursue that career path I probably won't save any lives until I'm like thirty."
"Really? But what would make that take so long?" she asked.
"There's a lot to learn," Quinn said. "What you are doing can kill or save someone. They have to be sure that you are really trained before they let you take on proper operations."
"That's fair enough," Santana nodded. "But what about now? Given that you don't have dreams about being a doctor anymore, that is."
"Now? I don't know, if I am going to be honest," Quinn said. "My life had taken a drastic turn, like a meteor knocking a planet off course. I guess that if I'm meant to do something in the future, if my life will turn out to have some purpose, I will find out eventually. Okay, that's enough about me. What about you, San?"
"Me?" Santana said. "Well, personally I don't really think that there is a point in having dreams in the first place. Because I don't think that they will come true."
"Don't say that," Quinn admonished. "Nothing is impossible, Santana, if you have faith. You're the one who taught me that."
"Okay, and it is coming back to bite me," Santana half-joked and Quinn chuckled. "But um, me, dreams? I don't really know either, I guess I have never thought much about it. Probably something arty. I don't think that I will be good with numbers or science or something like that."
"Yeah, definitely. I think that you would be a good artist," Quinn pointed out.
"I've never drawn anything before," Santana said slowly.
"I know," Quinn smiled. "But I just know it. It's like you said, gut feeling is never wrong."
"You really remember every word I say, don't you?" Santana said, feeling her lips curve into a lopsided smirk.
"Yes," Quinn said. "Because they are worth remembering. They are wise words, those."
"They are not wise," Santana chuckled. "I literally made them up on the spot."
"And you are a wise person, so I don't see what's wrong with my logic," Quinn tilted her head slightly, so that their heads were now closer together.
The two of them stayed in that position for a while, just watching the raindrops trickle down, listening to the soft buzz of rain hitting the rooftops and the cement outside the house.
"I like this," Santana said, closing her eyes contently. "I like the petrichor."
"Petrichor?" Quinn echoed.
"Yep," Santana said. "Petrichor. It's like the nice smell that comes with rain."
"Yeah, I know, I'm just surprised that you know that word," Quinn said.
"Hey!" Santana mocked offense, placing a hand on her heart. "Just because I'm a slave it doesn't mean I'm stupid!"
"You were never a slave to me," Quinn cooed. "And you never will be. And I never said you were stupid, if anything, you are so smart. You're so amazing, San."
Santana felt herself blushing. She knew that Quinn had said that so many times, but it didn't feel any less special than the first time that the blonde had said it.
"I think that you are just so amazing too, Quinn," Santana turned around so that they were now face-to-face. "I feel so lucky to even spend a minute with you."
"I'm the lucky one," Quinn mumbled, eyes darting down to Santana's lips and flickering back up to meet deep mocha orbs. Santana found herself doing the same.
As if there was some invisible magnetic force between them and they were opposite ends of a magnet, their lips locked together and fireworks were back to exploding inside Santana's head.
The faint buzz of raindrops were still around them. Santana knew that many people took rain as a sign of dismay, as a bad omen maybe, as a mood damper, but she never understood why. Rain was necessary for life, for plants to grow. Rain is beautiful.
Quinn let out a low groan when Santana tilted her head slightly to deepen the kiss. This is what the brunette loved, times like this where she could just lose herself in Quinn. Her lovely smell, just… ah. She loved kissing the blonde so much. It made her forget about everything else, about the fact that she's a slave, the fact that Mr Fabray is a persistent problem in their lives, and skip into another world altogether. A little bit like her in her dreams, except now she was sharing it with Quinn. It was so intimate, that Santana felt her heart warm and beat faster as the kiss got more fervent with every passing second.
The need for oxygen was too much for them eventually, and Santana broke the kiss temporarily, to catch her breath. She was able to get a single breath before Quinn let out a petulant whine and latched her lips back onto the brunette's.
She didn't know how much time passed, them just kissing like this: time works differently when you are in such bliss. Time seemed to warp, lasting forever and no time at the same time, it really was a strange, yet pleasant feeling. Then she felt something prod her lower lip, and it wasn't until a few seconds later that Santana realised that Quinn was prodding at her lower lip with her tongue.
That elevated Santana's arousal tenfold, and Santana couldn't help but open her mouth slightly to gain access to the blonde. Quinn wasted no time in exploring her mouth with her tongue, and it was one of the best things that Quinn had ever experienced in her life that she felt some kind of stickiness between her legs, as well as an intense heat gathering there. They had never kissed with tongue before, and Santana was enjoying it so much that she just had to use her own tongue as well, and when it touched the blonde's, she heard both of them moan. The huskiness and the sexiness of the moan made the space between Santana's legs even wetter.
Eventually, Quinn grabbed onto Santana's shoulders lightly and guided her down onto the bed, so that now Quinn was above her, bodies flush.
Santana opened her eyes for a brief moment to see nothing but Quinn's slightly moving eyelashes, and with that Santana closed her eyes again to wallow in the pleasure of them kissing intimately. Their tongues clashed with each other's frequently, and Santana couldn't stop the small, breathy moans that escaped the back of her throat.
She felt some kind of pressure in between her legs, somewhere on her lower abdomen, and it wasn't until a bit later that she realised that Quinn's body was pressing down onto her, flush. And when Quinn's hips started to subconsciously rock, the pleasure was too intense that Santana had to break the kiss to suck in a deep breath.
"Are you okay?" Quinn asked, worried, stopping her movements. Santana's body immediately started to call for more, for Quinn had stopped.
"Yeah," Santana mumbled, smiling softly.
"I'm sorry," Quinn said softly. "I probably shouldn't have done that, I guess I just did that instinctively."
"No," Santana looked deep into Quinn's sapphire eyes, darker than usual. "It's okay. I want this."
Quinn looked a bit hesitant. "Don't feel pressured at all, San. It's okay if you don't want to."
"No really, Quinn," Santana said reassuringly. "I want this."
"Okay," Quinn whispered slowly. "But if you at any point want to stop, tell me, I will, okay? I will never force you into anything like this."
"I know," Santana whispered back.
Quinn looked a little nervous, but the arousal was still evident in her expression. "I've never done this with anyone before," she muttered.
"That's okay," Santana said with a soft smile. "I trust you."
Quinn's warm smile was the last thing that Santana saw before she closed her eyes, for the blonde had reattached her lips onto hers.
When she felt strong hips press into her own, she let out another gasp. She couldn't believe that this was happening. This was amazing. She felt nervous, and scared, but more than anything, she felt excited and exhilarated.
Quinn's tongue entered her mouth again, and this time it was the blonde who let out a moan. She started to undulate her hips again, and every time it went down on the brunette's hips, Santana felt this jolt of pleasure so intense that it made her gasp again and again.
Within no time, Santana couldn't hold it in any longer. The heat between her legs was getting so intense, yet it was begging for more. Santana started to gyrate her hips as well, creating some form of friction with the blonde's which got both of them to moan again.
Time was warping again. Santana had never reciprocated the act once in her life, every time she had just laid there, squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for it to be over already. But this time, she wanted it to never end.
Some time passed before Quinn was gripping at the bottom of Santana's shirt, silently asking for permission. Santana nodded, and soon, Quinn pulled her shirt up, and Santana lifted her body slightly so that the clothing could be taken off.
As soon as Santana's top was off, Quinn took hers off as well in one fluid motion. Through the blurry haze of her vision, Santana could see the smooth, creamy skin underneath, that was illuminated by the weak orange light from the outside. She was so beautiful.
"You're so beautiful," Quinn whispered lovingly as she trailed her way down, placing down tender kisses on different parts of Santana's body: on her throat, her shoulder, her chest, her stomach.
"It's not," Santana mumbled, and Quinn got what she meant.
"These scars, they're beautiful," she insisted, trailing her kisses up again until she was eye-level with the brunette. "You are beautiful, everywhere, inside and out."
Santana blushed slightly before Quinn's lips met her mouth again, kissing with ardour.
Santana let her hands wander, up the smooth skin on Quinn's back, before settling on her waist. Quinn was doing the same thing. Their hips were still rocking into each other's, and while it was so pleasurable, Santana's body was still screaming for more.
Quinn seemed to want more too. She was already pulling on Santana's pants, asking for permission to take them off, and Santana answered by lifting her hips slightly, allowing the blonde to take it off. It took about fifteen seconds before Santana was completely naked except that she still had a bra on, and Quinn quickly took her jeans off as well, throwing them off to the side. Her panties quickly followed.
Finding it a little strange that her bra was the last article of clothing that she still had on, she unclasped it and took it off, and Quinn smirked. Quinn quickly took off her bra as well, and within no time their bodies were flush against each other's again, this time without the clothing acting as a restriction. The way that their breasts were moulding into each other… the ecstasy was indescribable. Santana was already seeing stars.
Quinn's fingers started to trail down Santana's body, and when they reached Santana's stomach, she seemed to hesitate.
"San…" Quinn mumbled, breaking the kiss momentarily. "Are you sure you want this?"
"Yes," Santana's voice was a low groan. "Please…"
Quinn's fingers resumed its motion down Santana's body, and when her warm fingers finally met the sensitive bundle of nerves between the brunette's legs, Santana let out a loud moan.
"God, San," she could vaguely register Quinn saying in awe. "You're so wet."
"I know," Santana grunted, squeezing her eyes shut. "Please, Q."
Quinn started to rub, creating delicious friction, and when her index finger finally found the sensitive nub, Santana let out another loud moan and arched her back.
"Does that feel good, baby?" Quinn whispered.
Santana couldn't speak; it was simply impossible to. She could only nod as Quinn continued to rub profusely, sometimes flicking the nub with her thumb and every time she did that, a huge wave of pleasure washed through Santana's system that she didn't even know what sounds she was making anymore. She could see whites in her vision, and she couldn't help but throw her head back, breathing becoming erratic.
After what seemed like too long, Quinn tentatively stuck a finger inside, and Santana had to try her hardest to not come right here and now.
It didn't hurt at all. Before, when she was being penetrated, it hurt like a bitch. Now, it brought nothing but pleasure. Maybe the fact that she was completely soaked had something to do with it, maybe it acted as a lubricant or something.
"Ah!" Santana moaned when Quinn's single finger started to move up and down, in and out. Santana started to rock her hips again, creating maximum friction, intensify the waves of pleasure even more.
Some time later, Quinn stuck a second finger inside, and Santana might have moaned again. Everything was blurry, everything was a haze, she was seeing stars everywhere, she didn't know which way was up.
She could feel something building deep inside her, like a balloon that was starting to get bigger and bigger.
It just felt so good. She couldn't really process anything other than the intense ecstasy that she was experiencing right now.
The balloon was growing bigger and bigger. Bigger and bigger.
"Please open your eyes, San," she hears Quinn moan breathily, and through the smog of oblivion, Santana was able to open her deep brown eyes. Everything was brighter than usual, she could see blurred lines, she could see the orbs of intense light brown with beautiful green flecks that said nothing but pure love.
When she felt Quinn curl her fingers inside her, she felt the balloon pop, sending her into cloud nine, sending her into blissful oblivion. No words could describe how she felt.
She may have screamed. She had no control of her vocal cords, she had no idea.
Quinn's hips slowed to a stop, pulling out her fingers slowly, and as it came out, Santana let out another moan.
It took a few minutes for Santana to regain her breath. She had never felt so spent before. She had never felt so happy before. She felt like she was on top of the world, over the moon.
"Was I good?" Quinn's uncertain voice was the first thing that Santana could register when she came down from her high.
Quinn's insecurity made Santana laugh. "Good? You were absolutely amazing," she said, still a little out of breath from the aftershocks of her orgasm.
"You sure?" Quinn asked, quietly.
"You just made me come for the first time," Santana said, smiling warmly because she was so happy, so giddy.
"God," Quinn said, nervously chuckling. "Really?"
"Yes," Santana whispered, reaching up slightly to plant a tender peck on the blonde's lips. Her legs felt like jelly.
The two of them laid there, in each other's arms, until Santana wanted to make something clear.
"Quinn, does this mean that we're girlfriends?" she asked nervously.
"I was going to say the same thing," Quinn giggled. "Does it? Do you want to?"
"I really do," Santana said.
"Well, then we are," Quinn said. "Although it is a bit strange. Normally people become girlfriends before they have sex."
"Nothing about us has ever been normal," Santana said softly. "We have always been special."
"I guess that's true," Quinn chuckled, and the two girls leaned in for another kiss again.
"In the meantime, I do have one more wish," Santana said slowly, once they broke apart.
"What is it?" Quinn asked.
"I want to return the favour," Santana stated.
"You sure?" Quinn said. "You don't have to, don't feel forced to just because I –"
"I want to," Santana stated firmly, cutting her off. "Will you let me?"
Quinn's smile turned to a seductive one. "Of course, San. You can show me just how skilled those fingers are."
It would be great if you told me what you thought of this chapter :)