Date: Sat, 04 Oct 2003 11:45:37 -0700 From: RC in Sacramento Subject: Becka the Beast, Chapter 6 This is a work of fiction from a first time author. It depicts acts of sex and sexuality between two teenage females. If such content disturbs you, or you are under 18, get out and stay out. As always, this story can only be reproduced by consent of the author. Becka the Beast by Sacwriter Chapter 6*** Gia and Becka met the next morning outside of school as promised. Gia had brought a bag containing four Danish and a carton of orange juice, which Becka greedily devoured on the spot. It confirmed Gia's suspicion that despite what she had said, Becka hadn't eaten last night, and probably not this morning, either. "So, little girl, did you bring your stuff for this weekend?" Gia asked, giving the sentence an emphasis that turned it into a sexy innuendo. Becka grinned, then patted the knapsack on her back. The bag appeared to be twice as full as yesterday. "Right here. I got some clothes, and my toothbrush, and a couple of books. Oh, and I brought your cell phone, I'll give it back at lunch, it's at the bottom of the bag." "Book's? I intend to spend forty-eight hours ravishing your nubile young body, and you bring 'book's? Oooh, I am just so insulted! I'm going to get you for that, little girl," said Gia, growling in mock anger, poking a tickling finger deep into Becka's ribs. Becka laughed, jumping away, but Gia followed relentlessly. She chased the bigger girl across the parking lot and up into the school where, giddy with laughter, Becka squealed that she surrendered. The first bell rang, and with a final hand clasp and a promise from smoldering eyes, they separated. * * * Becka was a little late for lunch because she had made a side trip to the locker room to change into her new school clothes. She didn't want the other girls to see her in her old baggies, to be reminded that they were still sharing a table with 'Becka the Beast', but she also didn't want to embarrass Gia in front of her friends. She was pleased to see that they had saved a seat for her, but even more pleased to see the light of real welcome in their eyes. She felt something warm but unfamiliar grow somewhere in her chest. It burned brighter when she sat down next to Gia and let their legs touch underneath the table. Becka hadn't been able to bring a lunch, she had climbed out of her bedroom window to avoid her father when she left. But she had also brought her secret stash, all four hundred and twelve dollars of it. She was pretty sure her old man would trash her bedroom after what Becka had done to him, so she had taken everything of value with her. Which meant that she now had the wherewithal to buy a hot lunch in the cafeteria, something she had never done before. The novelty had made her overdo it, and Gia had grinned at the pile of food on her friend's tray, mostly sweets. Still, she added one chocolate chip cookie to the pile, and shared a knowing smile that the other three girls didn't catch. The rest of the day seemed to go by in fits and starts. To the detriment of their schoolwork, Gia and Becka found their minds wandering, and much of the time instead of studying or taking notes they found themselves fantasizing about the coming weekend. At other times, their minds seemed unable to focus on anything but the slow ticking of the clock. It was a maddening day, and the end of it came as an almost physical feeling of relief. They rode the bus to Gia's neighborhood, where Gia led the way to her home. The Cameron house sat in a half acre wooded lot of old growth oaks, and was surrounded by a six-foot adobe fence. The house itself was three stories of rambling Spanish colonial architecture of white plastered walls topped by red tiled roofs. The front was dominated by a circular driveway, and an unattached garage big enough to hold at least four cars. The back yard was spacious, shaded by three oaks that had been left for that purpose when the land was cleared. They cast their shade over the blue waters of a swimming pool, and a large patio with a wet bar that was obviously meant for entertaining a lot of people. A low redwood deck covered one half of the back of the patio, with trellis covered walls protecting a spa big enough to hold two or three couples at once. "You - you live here?" gasped Becka, staring around in wide mouthed wonder. When they had arrived Gia had walked them around to the back in order to show her the entire outside of the house before going in. If she had wanted to impress her new lover, the tour had obviously done the trick. Becka looked like a third world orphan being given a peek at Epcot Center. "Yup, this is it, this is Casa Cameron. We come from a large family, and Mom and Dad always wanted a place where everybody was welcomed to crash if they wanted to. C'mon, I'll show you my room, and we can unpack your things. Then I'll give you a tour of the rest of the house." "What, you mean there's more?" Gia laughed, and lead her friend inside by the hand. As they crossed the hardwood floors of the family room and started up the stairs to the second floor, she kept up a commentary on the makeup of the Cameron home. "The bottom floor is the common area, family room, living room, kitchen, that sort of thing. We all live on the second floor, my father, my three brothers, and me. The boys share a bathroom, but Dad and I both have private baths. He says that's because rank and gender both have their privileges. He says the same thing about who gets the remote for the TV, but he leaves out the gender part. "The top floor is all guest bedrooms and storage, but since we only moved in three months ago, we haven't had much chance to use it. Here we go, here's my room." The room she entered was at the end of the hall, and proved to be at least three times the size of Becka's room. It had creamy white walls and champagne carpets, and a big bay window with a view of the backyard. The furniture was feminine but solid, and the center of it all was a double sized sleigh bed made of birds eye maple, with a light blue comforter. Three stuffed animals set amongst the pillows at the head of the bed. Gia dropped her book bag on the floor, and then threw herself down on the bed, facing the ceiling. Her arms were spread and her legs were open, and her eyes were closed as she said, "Ravish me, I dare ya." When the expected ravishment did not occur, Gia frowned and opened one eye. Becka still stood in the doorway, holding her bag low and clutching it with both hands. She was shifting from foot to foot, and looking around nervously. "Becka? Baby, what's wrong? Becka, there's nobody here but us." Gia rose to a sitting position, concerned about her friend's behavior. "Gia, I - This place. It's huge! Gia, you guys are like, rich. I mean, really, really rich. I don't know, Gia, I, I don't think that I ..." 'Belong?' With a sudden flash of insight Gia understood what Becka's problem was. Becka had never seen anything even remotely like this place before. She had probably never been inside a house bigger than the bungalow that she grew up in. With it's stained walls and threadbare carpets, it would have made the Cameron house look like the Taj Mahal. It must be overwhelming for the girl. And it was. Becka felt like a slug among butterflies. She was uncomfortably aware that she was wearing stolen shoes, and that the brand new clothes she had been so proud of probably didn't even cost what it took to heat that pool outside for a month. She knew she didn't belong here, and the knowledge was making her sick. Without a word, Gia pulled her feet to the floor and rose, crossing the room to take her friend by the hand. Becka resisted, but Gia pulled her towards the bed and made her sit down. When she wouldn't look Gia in the eye, Gia sat next to her and put her arm around the other girl's shoulders and hugged her tight. Then, when she was sure the other girl wouldn't suddenly bolt, she reached over to the dresser next to her bed and pulled over three framed pictures. She turned sideways and made some room between her and Becka, and then lay the pictures down between them. She pointed at the first one, a group portrait of three young men. "These are my big brothers, Juan, Roberto, and Jorge. Juan is eighteen, and a senior, he goes to Ridgeway. He plays classical acoustic guitar, and after he graduates next year he wants to join the army and learn computer programming. "This is Roberto, you met him the other night. He's going to school to be an architect. He spends all his money restoring his Mustang. He's so serious all the time, that I'm always trying to get him to laugh. "Jorge is the oldest. He just wants to own his own auto detailers like our Dad does. He works full time now at the dojo, but after work and on the weekends he's always out in the garage making extra money working on his friend's cars. "This is my Mom and Dad. Dad grew up in East L.A., and Mom grew up in San Francisco. When they met, Dad was a motor pool mechanic who had just gotten out of the army, and Mom was an accountant at a bank. When they got married, they lived in a studio apartment for two years. Daddy worked in a garage, and at nights and on weekends he taught karate at someone else's school. When Mom got pregnant with Jorge, they took all the money they had saved and went into partnership with two other guys and started their own detail shop. To save money, Mom and Dad and later Jorge lived in the back room off the detailer's for another two years, until Roberto was born. "Even after us kids had started coming, Mom still worked, although she quit her job at the bank. She had her own license, and she started doing the books for a lot of local small businesses, so she was able to work at home and still take care of us. By the time I was born, Dad had bought out his partners, and Mom had hired two other people to help run her accounting practice. Dad still taught karate on weekends, but only because he loved doing it. "About then I guess they started dreaming about having their own house. A special house, one that they built themselves, with lots of room for all of us and any of our family and friends who wanted to visit. Dad made up 'the blueprint's, which were just some plans he had drawn on some big sheets of white paper. Every month or so for as long as I can remember, he and Mom would take them out, and we would all gather around the dining room table and study the plans and make all sorts of changes. Nothing was too wild. I remember one time Juan insisted that we put in our very own petting zoo, and Dad did, complete with little pens and birdcages and stuff. It stayed on there for almost a year, until Juan decided that it was kid stuff and told Dad he could take it out. I think that must have been were 'Berto got his interest in architecture, sitting there and messing around with those white paper plans. "About six years ago, Dad lucked out at a government auction and got this property for a song. The old owner had died without a will, so they sold it for back taxes. Pure luck, right place at the right time, but it did mean that now our 'dream house' was really possible. "Daddy and the boys and my Uncle Mike, who's in construction, used to go out on weekends to clear the property. They did it all by hand, cutting down trees and dragging boulders and then grading everything. Mom and I would bring them a picnic lunch, and we'd all sit under the trees and picture what the house would look like, and argue about who got what room. "After that first year we had enough to start building the house, but Mom insisted that Dad should try to build his dream, first. Dad had always wanted to own his own dojo, so that year we opened the Cameron Martial Arts Academy. And the next year, my Mom died when some drunk in a pickup ran a red light and killed her. "We were all pretty lost when Mom died, but Daddy also had this bad feeling of guilt. Because she wanted him to have realized his dream first, she never got to live in our dream house. So Dad worked hard and borrowed big, and with Uncle Mike's help with the contractors, we were able to get this place built and moved in just three months ago. There were no short cuts, no compromises, this place is exactly how he and Mom and us pictured it. We're in debt up to our ears, and it'll take us about thirty years to pay off the mortgage, but it's all ours. "Gia, we weren't born rich. We started out living in the back of a garage, and we worked really, really hard to get here. But we're here now, and you're here now, and if you don't shut up and kiss me, I'm going to keep on babbling like this until dinner." Becka laughed, and came into Gia's waiting arms, kissing her passionately on the mouth. Gia had already moved her family pictures to the side just before she made her final statement, so the two girls were able to lie back on the bed and hold each other. For a long time they held, they touched, they tasted, levels of young passion rising higher with the continued contact. When Gia stopped to pull off her blouse, she took the pictures off the bed and put them back on her dresser to make more room. A few minutes later, when Becka took off hers, she lay those pictures face down on the dresser. Gia laughed, but Becka soon smothered it with her lips. As Becka was tugging down Gia's shorts and panties, they heard the sound of the front door slamming. Louder still, they heard Phil Cameron announcing his arrival to his daughter. "GIA! Honey, we're ho-ome!" Becka jumped up with a fearful squeak, frantically trying to get dressed before she and Gia got caught. Gia sat up slower, with an extremely annoyed expression, looking at the clock on her nightstand. Great, almost 4:30. Not only had they forgotten the time, but they had also forgotten to close her damned door. Gia got up, her breasts still exposed, and walked over to the door. She stood there in the doorway and shouted, "I'll be down in a minute, Daddy!" and then closed and locked it. She walked over to Becka, who was frantically trying to close the hooks of her bra with trembling hands. Gia grabbed the bra straps and started to hook them herself. As she did, she muttered words to Becka that that didn't relieve the other girl's anxiety in the slightest. "Little girl, I think it's time you met my family." * * * Becka still looked more than a little shell shocked as Gia led her down the stairs, and the sight that greeted her left her feeling even more so. The once empty house was now a whirlwind of male driven activity, with Camerons both young and old running back and forth across the floor. In their hands they carried fishing poles, tackle boxes, lanterns, ice chests, sleeping bags, grocery bags, bulging knapsacks, and several packs of playing cards. Gia and Becka sat down on the stairs and simply watched, as the tide of hyperactive humanity swirled by beneath them. Gia had a patient expression fixed upon her face, but Becka looked totally confused. She tried listening in on the shouted sentences that flew through the air like shrapnel, but had little more luck with them than she had with any of the rest of it. "Hey, give me a hand with this, it's getting heavy." "I can't, I'm carrying the rods." "You're not carrying my rod." "Carry your own damned rod!" "Hey, Gia, who's your friend? Do you mind checking my e-mail for me this weekend? Thanks, Sis, you're the greatest." "Has anybody seen my waders?" "Don't you think we need more ice in this chest? The hamburgers are gonna turn green before we get there," "Leave some ice for Gia and her friend, we'll buy some on the way when we get gas." "I forget. Are the red chips a dollar, or are the blue chips a dollar?" "Hey, this lantern's not gonna do much good without any fuel in it, you know." "This from the guy who forgot to bring matches last time." "Gia, if Saundra calls, make sure she knows I'm out with Dad and the guys, and not some other girl, willya? She's getting so damned possessive these days, I can't stand it!" "I still can't find my waders!" The mad whirlwind seemed to die as quickly as it had risen. In an instant the last Cameron man in the house was Gia's father, who climbed the stairs in order to kiss his youngest fondly on the forehead. From the corner of his eye, Phil saw Becka wince and pull away at his approach, and decided not to push it. He backed down a step as soon as he had finished. "Baby, I'm sorry we have to leave like this, but the traffic to Big Bear is gonna be murder. Here, here's $200, make sure you and your friend have a nice time this weekend. We aught to be home by five on Sunday, and with any luck you can invite your friend to a genuine Cameron family fish fry. Take care, babe, Daddy loves you." With that parting shot Phil Cameron was out the door as quickly as his three sons. In a second, the girls heard the sound of two vehicles starting up and pulling out down the driveway. The sudden silence seemed to settle over the household like a shroud. Gia turned to Becka, who once again wore a stunned expression on her face, and said, "I think they liked you." * * * It was two hours later, and the girls were sitting at the serving counter in the kitchen, having dinner. The meal was thrown together with leftovers, spaghetti with reheated sauce and meatballs, garlic bread, and a salad. They also had two glasses of wine, which Gia was sure her father wouldn't approve of, but also didn't plan on telling him. "God, Gia, I can't believe how good this is! You say your father made this sauce?" Becka could barely stop eating long enough to comment on the meal, she was too busy trying to ingest it. Besides its natural good taste, the novelty of eating a home cooked meal that didn't start out frozen in a box had added it's own flavor. She was already on her second plate, and was wondering if she could make room for a third. "Yeah, my Dad's the family cook, he's real good in the kitchen. When he's not here I'll usually do the cooking, but he's a lot better that I am." "Don't your brothers do any cooking?" Becka said, reluctantly pushing her plate back. She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin, but missed the spot on the tip of her nose. The red spot had been there throughout most of the meal, but Gia had thought it looked so cute, she decided not to tell Becka about it. Now Gia snorted disdainfully. "My brothers? Please. As if I would put anything in my mouth that they made. To them, if it's not burned, it's not cooked. You might not have noticed, but my brothers are barbarians." Becka frowned, considering. "I thought they were kinda nice. They really care about you, Gia. I don't know why, but I didn't expect that, you know? I always thought that if you had brothers and sisters, you'd always be fighting. You know, like on the Osbournes?" "Oh, we have our fights, don't worry about that. I guess we're normal enough in that respect. But it's never mean, and afterwards we just forget about it. And even if sometimes the testosterone gets so thick I have to open a window, it's still kind of neat being the only girl in such a big family. Like I said, for the most part they spoil me rotten." "Yeah, must be nice," Becka smiled, but then looked away. In a smaller voice, she said, "But they still scare me, Gia. I can't help it. I know your Dad picked up on it when he kissed you goodbye, and I know he's a real nice guy, but I can't stop from pulling away like that." Gia reached over and took Becka's hand, held it between the two of hers and stroked her palm. She was glad that they were finally talking about this. "Is it because of your father? Because of what he's done to you?" Becka shook her head, considering. "No. That's not as bad as when he hits me. I can usually just suck him off once a week and he's okay. "The worst stuff is his friends, his drug buddies. They come over and get stoned, and then one or two of them will want to take me in back and do me. Sometimes they'd even do it right there, in front of everybody else. With my old man I kinda got used to it, but with them each time always felt just as bad as the first time. So when I'm with a guy, I guess I can't help thinking that he's gonna grab me and fuck me, even if I know he's a nice guy like your Dad. I guess it's that conditioning thing you were talking about. "And you know, it only happens like that when I see a guy and I'm inside, like in a room or in a car, you know? I feel trapped. But if I'm outside, I know I can always run away, and I'm not so scared. So if I met your Dad or your brothers outside, I wouldn't be afraid of them. But I can't stay in the same room with them, I know it's freaky, but that's just the way I am, Gia." Gia could only stare at her friend, stunned. The other girl's candor had affected her like a knife to the belly, shoved in deep and twisted around. To talk about such horrible crimes against her own body, and to say it the way she did! No crying, no hysterics, no attempt at sympathy. Becka had just been explaining something. It was as if terror and brutality were so much a part of her life that she didn't even know that it wasn't supposed to be that way. 'That's not as bad as when he hits me. I can usually just suck him off once a week and he's okay. 'The worst stuff is his friends, his drug buddies. They come over and get stoned, and then one or two of them will want to take me in back and do me. Sometimes they'd even do it right there, in front of everybody else. With my old man I kinda got used to it.' Gia fought back a shudder. It was too much information, she needed more time to process it. If she said anything now, she was afraid it would be the wrong thing, and Becka would close down completely. Gia gave the other girl's hand a squeeze, and then gently pulled away. "It's alright, Becka. I understand. I just want to find someplace where you're safe, so you don't ever have to go back there again. And I will, too. Even if I have to make Daddy and the boys sleep outside in tents!" Becka grinned, and the volatile moment was over. Gia finished the last of her wine and started gathering up the dishes. "But right now, little girl, I'm going to show you one of my favorite things about cooking." "Oh yeah? What's that?" "Whoever cooks, doesn't have to do the dishes!" (continued)