Go Home And Cry

I'm not going to cry. The mantra ran through Lois' head as she walked back to her apartment. Every step she could feel the purloined bottle in her pussy. The burning pain in her ass. The sweaty money gripped in her fist, nails digging into the palm.

I'm not going to cry.

She smiled as the doorman opened the entrance to her. Looked at the carpet to avoid her own stoic image in the mirrored walls of the elevator on the ride up. Didn't even flinch as she felt something running down her leg, wet and sticky, along the line of her panties. The pants would hide it.

The hallway wasn't empty, despite the late hour. Lois smiled at her neighbor and the little dog straining on its leash. Smiled and nodded, said nothing as she continued pass them to her own door. The dog's nostrils quivered, following the reporter's every move, and she wondered if it could smell...no, don't think about it. Not yet.

Inside. The door closed. Lois breathed out, emotionally numb. She could feel the tears building, but they wouldn't come. Not yet.

She stripped the night off of her. All the clothes, in the hamper. Panties, stained and ruined black satin, in the trash. The strange glass bottle was rinsed off in the sink, set on the counter to dry. The crumpled bills lay next to it.

Lois felt dirty. She could smell herself—sweat, booze from the club, dirt from the alley. Turned to the bathroom. The makeup was wiped away without a mirror, and Lois was glad she had gone light for tonight...a little rouge, lipstick, not much mascara. It came off easily. Next was the shower. Turn the knob, close the door. She brushed her teeth while the heat built up, until the steam fogged the mirror...and then she rinsed her mouth, opened the door and stepped inside.

Heat. Blissful, burning heat, washing the smell of the night away...and then Lois did cry. Not in wracking sobs, but stupid warm tears that were lost in the boiling heat running down her face, through her hair. With trepidation, Lois turned her back to the showerhead...reached back with both hands and spread her cheeks.

Pain lanced through Lois as the hot water ran down the crack of her ass, and her sore and puffy pussy. She watched her legs, wondering, praying that she wouldn't see any rivulets of blood...but the water was clear. Lois bent over, until her hands could touch her toes, still crying as the hot water pounded against her anus and genitals, but wanting to get all of it...all of him out of her.

Until at last she reached back...finger tips feeling around her sore asshole. Then pressed slightly against the sphincter, telling herself to relax...to see if any damage had been done...