The Battered Lamp Chapter Twenty-Three: The Watery Dagger - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Chapter Twenty-Three: The Watery Dagger

... Street crossed 86th Avenue.” “Which way is north?” she asked as the car braked. “Right! And speed!” “I am!” Shannon ran the stop sign at 86th avenue, the tires squealing on the wet asphalt. Rain hammered on the roof, the windshield wipers squeaking as they wiped back and forth on the fastest setting, sloshing water off. Britney peered ahead. She could make out the cop cars crossing 9th Avenue. They were heading to the freeway. “Faster!” she hissed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fatima hated history. It was the most boring subject. She sat in the back, her concubine Ann sitting next to her. She leaned back in her chair, her skin itching. She just wanted the school day to be over with so they could kick Principal Burke's ass and free her mom from whatever spell he placed on her. Her eyes flicked to the clock. Only a minute had passed since third period started. Today was going to be so long. “It'll be okay,” Ann whispered, reaching over to take her hand. Her concubine had a sweet smile on her innocent face. “Yeah,” Fatima said, giving her hand a squeeze back. “It's good to have you back, Fatima,” Mr. Sokoloff said. “We were all worried when we heard you were in the hospital.” Fatima groaned inside. Everyone had made a big deal about that. It was so annoying. “Yeah. But I'm fine now. Eager to learn.” She was proud she kept a straight face through the lie. “Good. Because you missed out on most of the Reconstruction era. Which is just one of the most fascinating periods of ...

... our...” *Fatima! Fumi! I'm under attack! Kyle's not responding! I'm on the first floor, down by the math rooms!* Adrenaline spiked through Fatima at Aaliyah's fearful thoughts. She leaped to her feet. “Follow, Ann!” “What are you doing, Fatima?” gaped her teacher. “Going to save my wife!” she said, holding out her hand. She reached out for that wonderful, burning, ever changing fire as she rushed up the aisle. “Sorry, sir,” Ann squeaked behind her. She reached the door, letting Ann past. Her concubine produced her key and stuck into the lock as Fatima's yari flashed into existence in her hand. “Shit!” her teacher gasped as he stared at Fireheart. Three feet of steel rose from the point of her spear. She gripped the haft in her hand and followed Ann into the playroom. “First floor, Mrs. Skinner's classroom. Hallway.” “Yes, Mistress,” Ann gasped, her voice tight with fear. “Then you go to the SUV. Do not follow me.” The door opened onto the hallway. Fatima leaped through it. “Be safe! I love you!” Ann called. Corey lay in a stunned stupor on the floor, his forehead bruised. Aleah, his concubine, cradled his head. “Which way did they go?” Aleah looked up, eyes full of tears, a choker tight about her neck proclaiming who owned her. “That way.” Fatima dashed down the hallway, rounding the corner. Aaliyah struggled in the grip of one of the football players while Mrs. Skinner strode before them. Fatima grit her teeth, set her spear, and charged at the football player. Karrie's dark eyes ...