Chapter 23: Jade

Saturday, April 29, 2022

It was a dark gray morning. Rain fell in a never-ending torrent on my car roof and windshield. I could barely see out the windshield. I sat in my car on the side of the road, tears blurring my eyes, trying to read my phone screen.

Ten minutes earlier, I’d been in my physiology professor’s office across campus to get some help with my grade. I left him feeling sick and thoroughly miserable, but I had to go to my shift at the library. I decided to drive there to save some time. Halfway to work, my tire went flat, and I couldn’t reach anybody to help me change it. The last time I’d gotten a flat was my junior year of high school, and who had I called? Marcy. She had helped me fix it in less than an hour.

Texting and calling somebody for help was hard with tears filling my vision. My parents were out of town for the weekend. No police officers had stopped to assist me. I was on my own.

And I was so fucking horny I could hardly think straight.

“Nicholas!” I screamed, gripping my steering wheel as hard as I could. “Nicholas! I can’t do this anymore! Please! Please! You have to take this away from me!”

No answer came. No sudden appearance of a strange, hot man in my car. My angel was not coming to save me. With a sigh, I wiped my eyes, got out of my car, and figured out how to change my own damn tire.

When I arrived at work, I was soaked, covered in grime and oil, and haggard-looking. Marjorie, who rarely worked Saturdays, came out of her office and took one look at me. Her face had been stern, but it quickly changed into an expression of mild bemusement. “That kind of day, huh?”

I nodded.

She winked at me and said, “Clock in already. Then go clean yourself up in the bathroom.”

Marcos and Velma were already at the front desk, watching me warily.

I shot them a grumpy look and said, “Flat tire. Leave me alone.”

I clocked in and hurried to the restroom to clean up as instructed, but also to do what I always did when I first arrived at work: masturbate until I could handle the unending horniness.

As often happened lately, my mind drifted to Marcy. Marcy, who I now knew had a magical penis. A gift from a demon. And she was supposed to fuck me with that penis. And it would duplicate her power in me—giving me a penis.

But I didn’t want one.

Something else I’d heard Marcy say to Robin had stuck with me. She’d told Robin she wanted her to learn to lick pussy. Did Marcy also have a pussy? I hadn’t gotten a good look at her crotch. But those futanari videos I’d seen Fanny watching from time to time, they showed women with both a penis and a vagina. Fanny thought it was the hottest thing ever, but I didn’t want to be that.

“I don’t know what to do,” I muttered to my reflection as I washed my hands. I couldn’t go on like this. The ever-present need for sex. The constant drive. My inability to focus. Finals were a week away, and I could barely study for an hour.

I left the bathroom. Velma’s attention was fixed on her books. Marcos barely spared me a glance. Everybody was focused on finals—even the health professional students. A palpable tension permeated the library. Nobody wanted to be bothered. Books needed to be ready on hand at all times. Students who were ordinarily polite were prone to sudden bouts of rage.

Marjorie peeked out of her office and said in her faux-sweet voice, “Can I chat with you for a second, Jade?”

My heart plummeted. Had Velma finally ratted on me for messing around with Fanny in the book stacks? Had Velma changed her mind and told Marjorie? Or had she always been planning on it? I turned to Velma, but she was looking away from me.

I slipped off my chair and went into Marjorie’s office. She shut the door behind me and sat down behind her desk. “I have something of a serious nature to talk to you about.”

“What?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and even.

“A promotion.”

I swallowed hard. “Excuse me?” My voice broke.

Marjorie smiled. “I want to promote you to my night shift assistant librarian. We talked about this several weeks ago. Marcos is getting too busy to do all the work he needs to do, and he’ll be a senior next year in dental school, so he needs to start traveling for interviews and prepping for his boards. He won’t be around quite as much. You’ll need to work six to eight more hours a week, but you’ll get a nice raise. You’ll be in charge when I’m gone and be responsible for locking up each night.”

“Wow. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You and I will meet once or twice monthly to discuss personnel or logistical issues. But you can always pop into my office when I’m here, text or email me, or leave me a sticky note where I can find it. Marcos will train you, and the transition will take place at the end of the semester. Your raise, however, is effective immediately.”

“Can I hug you?” I asked, grinning with my entire face.

Marjorie smiled back. “I’ll allow it this once.”

I ran around her desk and gave her a long hug. She smelled like expensive perfume and books.

“Goodness me,” she said.

“Thank you, Marjorie!” I said, my eyes getting a little teary once more.

It was a win I desperately needed to lift my spirits. I left her office with renewed vigor. Velma was scowling at me as I sat down at my desk. Marcos wore a congratulatory look.

A few minutes later, Marcos assigned Velma and me to restock books. There was no point in grumbling about it. We had to stay on top of the shelving because med students complained when they couldn’t find certain books during finals prep week. Velma waited until we were out of earshot to turn on me.

“I can’t believe you got the job!” she said in a venomous tone that sounded even more sinister in her southern drawl. “I should have reported you to Marjorie when I caught you fornicating with your friend.”

“Why do you think she gave it to me?”

“Like I know. You’re always late. You take more bathroom breaks than a coke fiend and spend half your time texting your study group.”

“And the other half helping you prep for tests,” I reminded her.

Velma looked away. “That’s true.”

“Are you mad about it for real?” I asked. “I don’t want this to become an issue now we’re finally starting to get along. But I’m going to have to be your boss.”

Velma groaned loudly, which earned her disdainful looks from a couple of med students studying not far from where we stood.

Velma shot them a glare.

“Whatever. Marjorie’s creepy anyway.”

She grabbed her first stack to shelve. I put some earbuds in and listened to a podcast about sex. Velma and I didn’t speak. I was still grateful to her for not ratting me out, but I had nothing to say. About an hour into my shift, I got a text from Fanny.

Fanny: Need a helping hand tonight?

Me: Maybe. Not sure what time I get outta work. I’ll let you know.

Fanny sent me several suggestive emojis, which made me laugh. I turned my podcast back on and continued working. The podcast was raunchy but funny. Women talking about other women and men they’ve slept with and all the weird situations they were involved in. Sometimes, I laughed out loud. When I turned around, Velma was watching me with a scowl.

I pulled my earbud out and asked, “What?”

“I’m bored, and my earbuds are broken. What are you listening to?”

“A podcast.”

“About what?”

“Sex,” I mumbled. “But I can change it to something else if you want to share buds.”

The way Velma looked at the bud in my hand reminded me of how I looked at boys with cooties in third grade. “Whatever. I need something to listen to.”

I gave her the bud, and she wiped it on her sleeve before putting it in her ear.

“You can’t catch it,” I said.

“What?” Velma asked. “Being a lesbian?”

“I’m bi.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her books. Multiple times, when particularly filthy stuff was being discussed, I thought Velma would take the bud out or make an offended remark. But she never did. She scowled, huffed, and even rolled her eyes a few times, but she listened even when the hosts talked about how nobody could make a girl cum harder than another girl.

By the time we finished shelving the cart, another cart was about half full, so we kept working. I usually could count on studying for most of my work shift, but by the time we finished, my shift was half over. I cracked open the books. More than once, I wanted to stop and run to the bathroom to scratch my itch, but I didn’t. I couldn’t let myself become a slave to my clit. I really, really hated Nicholas.

Velma left as soon as we made the final announcements. I don’t know where she had to go, but she seemed in a hurry. Marcos had me stay behind to learn how to shut everything down and lock the doors. I wanted to concentrate. I tried to focus. But I was so damn horny it was practically making my eyes water. Marcos could tell something was wrong, but when I asked, I told him I had a queasy stomach.

“Like a girl problem?” Marcos asked warily.

“No. Not like that. Like the wrong food problem.”

We locked up, and I ran to my car. I half expected to see Nicholas waiting for me, but he wasn’t there. When I got inside and shut the driver’s side door, I looked around to make sure nobody was watching me. As soon as I was sure, I had fingers in my pants, rubbing until I came. It took about twenty seconds and was the most unsatisfying orgasm of my life. But it was enough to tide me over. I drove home as fast as I legally could.

Pulling up to my apartment building, I noticed a tall woman at my door, knocking. For half a moment, I thought it was Marcy, and my heart leaped. But on second glance, it was not my former lover. This woman was tall, yes, but older and more slender. She was at least in her late thirties, maybe early forties, with professionally styled brown hair. Her clothes looked very expensive. I thought she might be a Jehovah’s Witness until I remember they usually traveled in groups and didn’t proselyte late at night. It was past midnight by that point.

“Can I help you?” I asked as I approached my apartment. I kept my keys in hand in case I needed to stab her. I had read somewhere about using keys in self-defense, although I’ve never heard of people being fended off by stab wounds with keys.

“I’m looking for Jade Seymour. Are you Jade?” The woman had a perfectly symmetrical face that a skilled plastic surgeon had clearly touched up. Her brown eyes were a deep brown; her perfectly applied makeup enhanced it all. She seemed agitated.

“I know her. What do you need?”

“I need to talk to her. My name is Sofia Baxter. I know she lives here. I’ve come by here three times tonight. Are you Jade?”

I peered at her more closely. “I don’t know you, do I?”

“No, but you may have heard of my brother, Gavin Baxter. The billionaire? His wife is a model. Blah blah blah. His daughter, Marie, is an influencer. Blah blah blah. We’re a wealthy family. May I come in?” She seemed harmless, but the situation was so jarring that I didn’t know what to do.

Finally, I blurted out the question burning in my mind. “Are you going to murder me?”

Sofia stepped away from me as though she was now the nervous one. “Excuse me?”

“Never mind. Sure. It’s past midnight. Why shouldn’t you come in?”

I unlocked my door and led her into my tiny little matchbox of a home. She seemed genuinely startled by the size of it, which made sense given that her blouse cost more than my rent. Just because I couldn’t afford designer clothes didn’t mean I couldn’t spot them.

Sofia began removing her purse, coat, and scarf, but she couldn’t spot a place to set or hang them near the front door. After searching for a few seconds, she handed them over to me. I lay them over the back of the one sitting chair I owned and gestured for her to sit.

“Do you know Gretel Perkins?” she asked.

“No.”

“She works with someone I believe you do know. Marcy Dawson.”

“I know Marcy, yes. Is she okay?”

“I’m not here about Marcy. I’m here about Gretel. Gretel Perkins. She’s trying to leave me.”

“Okay.”

“And we need to do something about it!”

I paused mid-removal of my own coat. “Excuse me?”

“Gretel and I have been together for five years. Five years!” She held up five fingers to me in case I didn’t get her point. “And then poof!” A snap of fingers accompanied this next point.

“And what do you want me to do about it?” I asked.

Sofia was now wringing her hands together. She looked distraught, desperate, and despondent. I finally sat down opposite her on my couch.

“I want you to help me get her back. Deep down, Gretel is a very emotional person. If I make her jealous, she will return to me. I think the best option would be to film the two of us having an amorous moment.”

“Excuse me?”

Sofia stared me right in the eyes. “I want to video us having sex.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was so surreal. There I was, struggling through the horniest moment of my life, and a beautiful rich woman showed up on my doorstep and asked for sex. Yet I was ready to throw her out.

“Are you nuts?”

“I will pay you! Fifty thousand dollars. Right now. Believe me, I can afford it. I will send her the video taken on my phone, and she will get jealous and come back to me.”

I stood up. “I’m not having sex with you for fifty—”

“One hundred thousand.” She stood up, too, which was far more dramatic of a gesture than when I’d done it. She turned and fumbled with her little pile of clothing on the back of the chair, and an instant later, she brandished her Gucci purse like it was a sword.

I took a deep breath. My pussy was going nuts, but I needed to think things through clearly. “You think that us having sex on video will get your girlfriend back because she’s the jealous type.”

“Oh, I know it will,” Sofia said. “She can’t stand me checking out other girls. Very possessive, she is. Always has been.” She began pacing across from the couch to the door, slapping her purse against her open palm. Finally, she stopped and looked around. “Don’t you have a bedroom? Where is the rest of your apartment?”

Was she for real? “It’s a studio. There’s just one room.”

“One room? Why would you live here?”

“It’s all I can afford?”

“Oh! You’re poor. Okay then. We’ll have sex on the couch. I’ll set my phone here on the chair pointing that way.”

“Whoa! Wait a sec. I never said I would do anything yet.”

Sofia looked at me like I had sprouted an extra head. “Yes, but I offered you one hundred thousand dollars.”

The more this woman spoke, the less I liked her. But my clit was on fire, and she either needed to do something about that or leave so I could do something about it.

Twenty minutes ago, I might have fucked her for free. Now, she was offering me a hundred grand. “But why me?”

“Because you are a lesbian.” She popped open her purse and grabbed her lip balm and mirror. She applied it as carefully as other women would their lipstick. “And despite living in this dump, you’re quite pretty.”

My phone buzzed. It was Fanny.

Fanny: Booty call?

Me: not now ttyl

“I—I can’t.”

Sofia closed her eyes in frustration. “I need your help.”