Finding Bathsheba: Book 2
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2010 by Jonas

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 12 - Jack, Abigail and Allison have faced an uphill battle, but as they embark on the next phase of their lives, will things be any easier? Jack must look to establish his family out west, even while their family and friends face drama--and danger--back home.

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Rape   Drunk/Drugged   Lesbian   BiSexual   Incest   Sister   InLaws   Spanking   Rough   Gang Bang   Polygamy/Polyamory   Interracial   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Cream Pie   Voyeurism   Slow   Violence  

"Malthus felt that man was doomed to live a life of poverty because the population, he said, would always grow faster than the food. It was this prediction that led writer and historian Thomas Carlyle to call economics 'the dismal science.'"

Jack glanced at the clock on the wall behind the class. He was just concluding the second day of his new teaching assignment, and needed to take care of one last order of business before he set the students loose.

"Before we wrap it up today, and in keeping with the spirit of the discussion, I'm going to make things even more dismal. Time to put you in groups for your first project." He held up a sheet of paper as several in the class groaned. "You'll be in this group for the first half of the term. After you present in week six, I'll mix you into new groups for the second project. When I call your name, move to your group and exchange contact info."

He scanned the room and started pointing out spots.

"All the 'ones' there, 'twos' over there, 'threes' up front here, 'fours' next to them, and 'fives' in the back corner."

Jack watched the class shift around as he read off names. Most of the students who hadn't been called waited at their desks. One coed moved before her name was called, joining the 'threes', which already consisted of two guys wearing fraternity sweatshirts. As Jack continued down the list, he paid particular attention to the girl. Her name was Heidi Stone, and it wasn't hard to remember who she was, given her provocative dress and very flirtatious behavior. Before the first day of class, she bounded up and sat on the edge of Jack's desk, introduced herself and asked if Jack ever gave out 'extra credit.' The devilish smile, and sultry way she said it, left no doubt what she meant.

Now the petite blonde was turning her charms on the two frat boys, and they were eating it up. They'd moved so she could sit between them, and they were eying her like she was prey. That she seemed to feed off their responses to her bothered Jack for some reason. He hesitated when he got to her name. She fell right exactly in line to be a 'three.' A warning siren started going off in his head, so he skipped her name and filled the final spots for group three and four.

"Heidi Stone, group 5," he said.

The trio of students didn't acknowledge him. The other two members of group three looked annoyed at the behavior of the two guys.

"Heidi," Jack said louder.

She stopped talking and looked up at Jack with that same devilish smile. She had a one hand placed very high on each guy's leg.

"Yes, Mr. Williams?"

"You are in group 5," he replied, pointing to the back corner of the room.

She looked to where Jack pointed, and turned back to Jack with a playful pout on her face.

"Why can't I be in this group, Mr. Williams?"

Jack smiled inwardly. His luck couldn't have been better. Group five consisted of what looked to be serious students—a very straight-laced girl who Jack knew from his first class, and two older, non-traditional students.

"Because I want you in group five," he said, with a smile. "Now, hop to it so your classmates can go home."

With a huff, she stood, pushed her chest out, stretching her already tight t-shirt across her tiny breasts, raised her nose in the air, spun on her heel, and marched to her group. Jack shook his head imperceptibly and then spent the next few minutes gathering his things.

"Mr. Williams?"

Jack looked up and realized that the classroom had emptied, with the exception of Heidi.

"What's up, Heidi?" he responded, with a smile.

"I want you to change my group."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because my group is so ... so BORING. Let me be in group three."

Jack leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

"Nope, I think you're a good fit with group five."

Heidi was quiet for a moment, then sort of glided around the desk to stand next to Jack.

"What will it take to get you to put me in group three?" she asked, trying her best to sound seductive.

Jack stood up, easily towering over her diminutive frame. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and her chest heaving. She parted her lips in anticipation.

"It'll take five weeks and a good presentation."

It took a second for his words to sink in, but when they did, she frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't be in that group, Mr. Williams."

"I'll give you two. Michael and Clay."

"What?"

"Those two guys will either take advantage of you, or you'd take advantage of them. I'm not quite sure which yet."

Heidi tried to act outraged. "What are you saying? Are you saying that one of us might try to use SEX to get them to do all the work?"

That wasn't ENTIRELY what Jack meant, but it wasn't too far off. He knew that he was treading on thin ice, given society's penchant for disallowing anything even remotely suggestive between a teacher and a student. Still, he had a gut feeling that she wouldn't accuse him of anything. Instead of answering her, he just raised an eyebrow.

She clenched her little fists and huffed. Jack was almost afraid she'd throw a tantrum, but she stopped herself just short of stamping her foot.

"Mr. Williams, you are SO MEAN!"

Jack almost laughed at her childish response, but instead leaned back on his desk and cocked his head as he watched her.

"I tell you what. You want to be able to choose your group?"

A brief flash of hope filled her eyes. "Yes!"

She clasped her hands behind her back, an innocent gesture that lost its innocence because of the way she pushed her chest out proudly. Jack didn't take the bait, however, and kept his eyes locked on hers.

"Then you work hard in group five and PROVE to me that you deserve to choose your own team for the second project."

The hope vanished from her eyes, but to Jack's surprise, it was replaced by set determination.

"Fine, I will."

She turned on her heels and stormed towards the door. When she reached it, she turned again and gave Jack a million-dollar smile.

"See you on Friday, Jack!"

Then she blew him a kiss and darted out. Within seconds, Seth stepped into the classroom, leaning back into the hallway as long as possible to watch the departing girl. Jack smiled at his friend. He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and walked to the doorway. Seth smiled at him.

"Hey, another girl in the Jack Williams Fan Club!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Are you ready to play ball?"

Seth chuckled as they made their way out of the building. After a few minutes of silence, he shook his head.

"So, if you aren't going to use them all, do you mind if I borrow one? Blonde, brunette, redhead, or bald Doesn't matter to me, as long as she has all the working parts."

"You're pathetic, Davis."

Seth smiled. "Yep, and young and virile."


Abigail opened the apartment door and quickly shut it behind her, cutting off the wind mid-whistle. She hugged herself for a moment trying to get warm, wondering if it was usually this windy and cold in Seattle in January. The absence of any sound in the apartment, in contrast to the sounds of the blustery day outside, almost startled her. Abigail quietly moved through the apartment, dropping her mail on the dining room table on her way to her room, where she quickly stripped out of her winter wear and her work attire and slipped into tight leggings and a warm, plush turtleneck. She completed her evening ensemble with a pair of Allison's thick, colorful knit socks. Once satisfactorily toasty, she headed back to the dining room. Again, she marveled at how utterly silent the apartment was with no one else around. The peacefulness of it was a nice break from the normal bustle of her day, but still she longed to see her lovers and hear their jovial banter.

Jack was in the middle of his first week of the new term and was staying late on campus to meet with a new study group. Allison was studying at Wendy's and staying for dinner. Analise was working. Josh was with Marcus. As Abigail prepared her dinner of leftovers, she let her thoughts linger on Analise. She and Marcus had been getting to know each better—the RIGHT way—and the friendly though surprisingly quiet man was becoming more and more a fixture in their home. They were starting slowly, usually getting together for the evening at their apartment once or twice a week. They'd been meeting for lunch for a while; Josh included, but had only been on a few real "dates." Abigail was sure that things would move quickly, though, given that they both seemed smitten with each other, AND intent on providing healthy stability for Josh. Abigail was surprised that her sister was such a wonderful, nurturing mother to the little guy; her surprise at that made her feel guilty.

Abigail's thoughts quickly shifted to her own mother, and a surge of love and longing went through her. The sudden sensation of her mother's presence all around Abigail was almost overpowering. Abigail closed her eyes and could practically hear her mother's quiet singing while she went about her housework. She imagined her mother's gentle caress as she passed by Abigail, who was usually studying at the kitchen table or reading a novel curled up on the sofa. The hair on Abigail's arm stood up and goosebumps rippled across her skin. She gasped and then smiled at the sensation. She took a deep breath and could smell her mother's subtle perfume mixing with the fragrance of the pesto covering the pasta salad Abigail was preparing to eat.

The memories of her mother began to flood her mind. The soothing when she hurt as a child, physically or emotionally. The patient teaching when she struggled with some school assignment. The subtle guidance when she was transitioning from being a needy child to an independent young woman.

Abigail opened her eyes, surprised to find her vision blurry with tears, and more surprised to find herself standing in the dining room, her open handbag in front of her, and her hand wrapped around her new cell phone, which Jack had given her as a Christmas present. The longing to hear her mother's voice was intense. Her thumb hovered over the keypad, unable to press the first number. Abigail's brow furrowed in confusion. This was her beloved mother. Why couldn't she bring herself to dial her number, especially given the intense desire to talk to the woman?

The pleasant rumination began to crumble away, uncovering other memories that were always just below the surface. The confrontations surrounding her relationship with Allison; the indecision on her mother's face and in her voice, when they asked her to come with them to Washington, then her blind obedience to her husband's intolerant demands that she never contact them again.

The Betrayal, Abigail suddenly wanted to call it. For that's what it was, a betrayal. Her vision blurred with tears again, but this time from the hurt she felt. With a trembling hand, she placed her phone on the table beside her purse and grabbed the mail, pushing thoughts of her mother from her head and forcing herself to concentrate on the stack of envelopes in her hand.

One in particular caught her attention. "Greater Nashville Women's Health Clinic" was printed in the upper left corner of the envelope. She quickly pulled that name from her mental file, remembering it as the organization that sent a bill to Jack earlier that summer for services rendered during the spring. The two had chalked it up as an error. Abigail tore open the envelope to find a more forceful collection notice, stating that the past due still hadn't been paid and if it wasn't paid soon they would turn them over to a third-party collection agency. She didn't feel like she could disregard the letter like she did the first one. She rolled her eyes. Someone else's clerical error was going to make more work for them. She made a mental note to have Jack call the clinic and straighten things out.

Just then, the microwave beeped at her, announcing her dinner was ready. She dropped the letter next to her cell phone, and for a moment, thought of her mother again. With a sigh, she turned away and headed for the kitchen.


It was second day of February, and the groundhog wasn't the only one particularly obsessed with shadows. Brianna sat with Phillip, Dana, and a few other friends in the lunchroom. Her friends chattered on, but Brianna didn't participate. She quietly watched the solitary girl across the expansive room. Unlike Brianna, Melissa sat by herself at a table deep under the shadows of the second floor balcony as if she was hoping to disappear. She had a tray of food in front of her, but hadn't taken a single bite. Brianna's heart broke for the girl, who seemed to be more and more withdrawn, to the point that she was rarely with anyone else. She'd even begun missing days of school. Brianna tried to approach her several times, and Melissa turned her away every time, though her rebuffing recently held considerably less aggressiveness. Brianna was worried about Melissa and worried about who else's life Tyson was destroying. Seeing the formerly outgoing girl wither away right before her eyes made Brianna feel guilty.

The Tyson Project that she and Merrigan were working on seemed to have hit a wall. They were unable to get any concrete evidence, other than the testimonies of the girls themselves, and even then several of those girls were already recanting their statements. Brianna felt they had enough to take it to the police, but Merrigan felt they needed more. She argued that if they could get one of Tyson's friends to confess what was going on, they would have more of a leg to stand on, but neither girl could get the courage to approach any of the guys. Besides, Brianna reasoned, given his earlier threats, if Tyson caught wind of what they were doing, the results could be disastrous. While both girls wanted so desperately for Tyson to get what he deserved, they just didn't know how to do it. So they were now stuck, unsure of how to proceed.

On top of that, Brianna knew Merrigan was scared—scared of Tyson getting off, scared of him or his friends seeking retribution, scared of broadcasting to the world what he had done to her. Brianna couldn't imagine what it would feel like to have people prying into such personal, intimate details of your life.

Movement brought Brianna back. Melissa stood up, grabbed her tray and headed to dispose of it. Without a second thought, Brianna stood up, obviously too quickly, because it surprised her friends.

"Where you going in such a hurry, Brianna?" Phillip asked.

Brianna kept watching Melissa as she grabbed her things. "I, uh, I need to go talk to someone."

Phillip followed her eyes and settled on Melissa, who had disposed of her tray and was heading slowly down the hallway away from the lunchroom. Then he looked at Brianna again.

"Oh. Hey, I'll take your tray if you want to go ahead and go."

"Ooh, aren't you the perfect gentleman?" Dana teased.

"Naw, he's whipped, that's all," one of the other guys piped up.

Brianna looked down at Phillip and smiled. "Thanks, Phillip. I appreciate it."

He shrugged. "See you in class."

Brianna shouldered her bag and headed quickly after Melissa, worried that she'd be unable to find the girl. Her worries were unfounded as she saw Melissa sitting on a bench down the first side hallway. She had her bag on her lap and was staring off into space. As Brianna drew close to her, she slowed. A quick look at the girl made Brianna's heart sink. Melissa was wearing a bulky sweater, drastically different than the normal clothes the athletic girl was fond of wearing. Melissa obviously wanted to hide her ... condition. But what really made Brianna said was the emotionless void she saw in Melissa's eyes.

"Melissa," she said, as gently as she could.

Melissa jumped, but settled when she saw Brianna. Unlike before, her eyes didn't harden at the sight of the blonde. Instead, they remained lifeless.

"What do you want, Brianna?" Melissa said, flatly.

"I ... I want to help, Melissa," Brianna answered.

Melissa was quiet for a long time.

"You can't help."

Brianna sank down onto the bench next to Melissa, who had looked away and was staring at some point beyond the wall.

"I can't change what happened that night. But if you talk to me, tell me what really happened, I think I can help, you know, try to help you deal with it."

"I told you what happened."

Brianna took a deep breath.

"I think you lied."

Melissa didn't react to Brianna's statement other than to drop her gaze to the floor. She said nothing for the longest time, and just when Brianna figured she'd failed again, Melissa sniffled and a single tear hung to the corner of her eye for a minute before sliding down her face. A surge of hope filled Brianna.

"Let me help you, Melissa. You don't have to go through this alone. There are people, professionals, who can help you, too. And you have friends—"

"I don't have any friends anymore. Not even Bobby..." Her voice choked up.

"You have me and ... and others ... who are facing what you are."

More tears were streaming down Melissa's face again.

"Why do you want to help me?"

"We may not have always gotten along, but I've known you since we were little, and I care about you. No one deserves to be raped, Melissa, no one. Besides, if you talk to me, if you open up and share your story, we can make sure Tyson doesn't do this to anyone again."

"Tyson didn't rape me, and he didn't get me pregnant."

"Maybe he didn't directly, but he made you have sex with those other guys, didn't he?"

Melissa's tears came harder. She didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. Brianna chanced it and slipped her arm around the crying girl's shoulders. An audible sob came from Melissa's throat as she laid her head on Brianna's shoulder and cried.

"I didn't want it. I mean, I wanted to with Tyson, but I'd been drinking and stuff and I was so drunk, I hardly knew what was happening. He got mean. I mean, like he was hateful and seemed like he wanted to hurt me. Before I could do anything, he was on top of me holding me down and letting his friends ... oh, God, why did I break up with Bobby, why? Now, he'll never..."

Her voice trailed off for good and silent sobs shook her body. Brianna held her tight and rubbed her arm. The bell rang and startled both girls, and almost like she'd been conditioned, Melissa sat up straight and wiped her eyes, eerily regaining her composure. She stood up and wordlessly looked down at Brianna with those lifeless eyes again.

 
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