Helena was in the car again. She wasn’t driving this time, though. Amber wasn’t there, either.

Nobody was driving the car.

She was driving along the railroad bridge. The air was thick and muggy. She tried to squint to see the stars, but the windshield was completely steamed up on the inside. The world outside was a blur.

She didn’t need to worry about that, though. She wasn’t driving.

Helena lay back in her seat. There wasn’t much else she could do. There were too many straps on the seatbelt, multiple thick, pillowy shoulder belts. The world hurt when she moved. The car teetered when she tried to sit forward. She had to lie still.

She’d been here before. She knew that, vaguely, and also knew that sometimes dreams told you that you’d been here before about places you’d never visited in your life, although this knowing was even more vague.

She lay back in the seat as the realization that she was dreaming sank in. With that realization, she could feel the seat trying to turn into her bed, but she fought it back. She didn’t want to leave this dream just yet. It felt strangely… relaxing.

Amber was there, too, smiling at her from the passenger seat. She said something sweet and delicate, something that sent shivers of pleasure rippling through Helena.

All Helena could do was stammer something back, something that should have been flirty. One belt was almost too tight around her neck to speak. All she could do was lie still.

Amber seemed to like that. She would. Amber leaned in, whispering right in Helena’s ear, and Helena whimpered and trembled. Her fingers dug into the sheets—no, into the seats, because she wasn’t leaving this dream yet.

Amber’s tongue slipped into Helena’s ear, and Helena felt her vision blur, her head tip back. A gasp slipped from her lips as Amber’s lips seemed to trail down her neck, soft, wet kisses. It became a squeak as Amber’s teeth scraped playuflly against her throat.

Amber’s fingers were down there, too. Soft. Pulsing.

Helena whimpered, squirming helplessly, but the belts were so tight, and the blankets—the fog—she was totally weighed down. She couldn’t move. All she could do was lie there and accept.

Amber’s lips brushed her cheek, then descended in a wet, warm kiss. Hot breath teased Helena’s lips, and Diane cooed down at her with perfect softness, a dainty lullaby.

Amber, Helena corrected herself. Not Diane.

It was Amber kissing her ear, tongue playing inside, wetness and intimacy and sensuality filling Helena’s entire awareness, as that hand buzzed and vibrated delectably between her legs.

She was in bed now. But still dreaming. She had to be, because Amber was kissing her, Amber was stroking her, and Amber had left. Amber would never make her feel this good again.

And it felt so good.

Helena’s breath caught as Amber’s vibrant touch down below seemed to intensify somehow, as fingers toyed with one of her nipples through her shirt. She wanted to cry out, but the safety belt around her neck seemed to be tightening, and she… she could… she was going to—!

The tightness faded away. Amber’s lips vanished, and the touches seemed to ebb. Helena whimpered, and her eyes opened.

Only it was so dark, she couldn’t even tell if her eyes had opened at all. She wasn’t even sure she was truly awake. She swore she could still feel the tightness around her chest, those belts still holding her down.

She heard a rustle. The tightness lessened, but Amber was frozen in fear, now. Was there something in the room with her?

Oh, god, was this sleep paralysis? She’d read about that. Was she about to hallucinate a demon on her chest?

She was still so stupidly horny, her mind immediately flashed to succubi. Fuck. Fuck.

She tried to sit up, and found that she could. The blankets were just… heavy. Heavy and warm. She knew how cold it would be if she took the blankets off, so even though she felt like a sweaty mess, she didn’t even try this time.

She thought about the dream. Amber’s lips, Amber’s voice, but saying things Amber hadn’t said to her since they’d first met, since Helena had first let Amber pull her close. Amber didn’t talk to her like that anymore.

Helena felt her eyes getting wet. Her breath shuddered. What a… horrible dream. Her mind always knew best just how to hurt her. You were supposed to get over a breakup in half the time the relationship had lasted, wouldn’t you? They’d broken up two years ago.

And yet…

Helena licked her lips. Her hand had, almost of its own accord, begun to travel downwards.

She was still so wet. Amber’s beautiful face still shone so bright in her mind’s eye. She could almost still feel the wet imprints of Amber’s kisses covering her face, her neck… nobody had ever fucked her like Amber could. Even when things had been falling apart. Maybe especially when.

She whimpered, blinking back those tears. But she was also starting to stroke. She hated this. She hated herself. Fuck, she was such a pervert. What was wrong with her?

But she was so wet. It felt so good to give in to the pleasure, to surrender, even if she’d hate herself later. Had she ever told her therapist how often she still masturbated to their old text chats? How often she masturbated to the imagining of returning to Amber on her knees and begging to be… fuckfuckfuckfuck…

“Oh, dear.”

Helena froze. Her heart entered her lungs and stopped her breathing. Her eyes widened, and terror, shame, mortification stabbed at her throat until an involuntary, questioning squeak escaped her. “A-Ah?”

This was not her bed.

The light switch flicked on, and Helena cried out, shielding her eyes from the brilliant glare. Her headache wasn’t all gone, and pounding, pulsing pain hit her in waves. She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.

“Oh, come on, Helena.” Professor Wood’s voice sounded positively weary as Helena felt a hand lock onto her wrist and force her to roll back over. Helena had to bite her lip to hold in another cry—Diane probably didn’t realize how tightly she was gripping Helena. She didn’t feel quite up to snapping at Diane, though, with the humiliation building and burning in her chest. She quickly rolled over, shielding her eyes with her free hand.

Diane stood over her, her face shadowed by the light. The look on her face was unmistakeable, though. “Helena, I’m so disappointed in you.”

“A-Ah?” Helena’s stomach twisted as she realized that since Diane had grabbed her clean hand, she was covering her eyes with the… other one. She literally had her own juices dripping down her cheek. She wiped at her face with the back of her hand. She could feel how scorching-hot her cheeks were. “I, I’m—I’m sorry, I—I didn’t know you were—”

“I’ve been trying to make excuses.” Diane shook her head. “I know you’re going through a tough time right now. But this is just inexcusable.”

“I didn’t know you were there,” Helena whimpered. The glare was too bright for her to meet Diane’s gaze, but she had nowhere else to look. “I-I mean—why were you—”

“Oh, so if I weren’t here, this would be okay?” Diane was using the voice again. “Because I was willing to overlook your getting completely drunk, I was even willing to overlook the way you came onto me last night—”

“W-What?” Helena squeaked. “I-I didn’t—”

The grip on her wrist seemed to tighten, as if in warning. She forced the words back down. She was pissing Diane off even worse when she talked back.

“But now,” Diane continued, as if Helena hadn’t even spoken. “Now you’re, what, rubbing yourself off? In my bed?”

“I-I thought—” Helena bit the words back. She’d thought this was the guest bedroom? Was that what Diane meant? That was still inexcusable, though. Diane was right.

“No, you didn’t. If you thought, you would have stopped.” Diane’s voice was entirely matter of face. She reached down and took Helena by the chin, and Helena’s whole brain short-circuited. “I honestly thought you were smarter than this.”

Helena stared up at her.

Everything—the dream, the humiliation, the pain, the confused mix of fear and shame—welled up at once, faster than Helena could even try to stop it.

She burst into tears.

She couldn’t stop it. She tried so hard to stop it, to dam it, but it was like a flood, and the dam was gone. She sobbed, pulling her hurt wrist out of Diane’s suddenly limp grip, and covered her face in shame as sobs seized her body and shook her like a rag doll.

“Oh, Helena.”

“I—” Helena wheezed between sobs, desperate for air she couldn’t hold onto for mopre than a split-second before another sob wrenched it out of her. “I’m s-s-sorry, I—I duh—didn’t—I, I, I—”

She felt softness envelop her. Her chin was suddenly on Diane’s shoulder, and Diane had her in her arms, squeezing her tight. Her grip wasn’t painful, but gentle, like featherdown. Helena blinked rapidly, her lashes sticky with tears, but her sobs briefly arrested out of pure shock.

“Shh. Shh.” Diane’s hand came around to the back of Helena’s head and started to gently stroke her hair. Helena shivered, almost anticipating a blow, but all Diane gave her was softness. “Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. It’s all okay.”

“I—” Helena sucked in a deep breath. “D-Diane, I—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know you didn’t.” Diane’s voice was right in her ear, as soothing as a lullaby. “It’s okay, sweetie. You have me here for you.”

“Th-Thank you,” Helena whimpered. “I’m suh-sorry—”

“It’s okay to cry,” Diane cooed in her ear. “It’s okay. Because I’m here to take care of you, okay, Helena?”

“M-My eyes… hurt…” Helena managed.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Diane pulled back, smiling sadly. Helena felt a brief emptiness as Diane’s touch left her, but then the hand on the back of her head seemed to apply a gentle pressure, and Helena found herself descending right down into—

Oh. Oh oh oh oh oh oh no I oh no no no—

—right down into Diane’s cleavage.

Helena gave a pathetic little squeak. She knew Diane was just trying to help her, that this wasn’t anything… sexual… and indeed Diane was already back to comforting her. Diane was so kind, even with… with everything… fuck, her breasts were so soft...

Despite the pain, she managed to steal a look upwards. She just wanted to see DIane’s expression, see if Diane hated her, if Diane was disgusted with her.

But Diane was just smiling down at her, beatific, perfect. The searing light above her head burned Helena’s eyes and made Diane look like an angel.

Helena felt Diane’s hand pushing again, and she willingly submitted to burying herself back in Diane’s chest.

“It’s okay,” Diane cooed softly. “You’re safe. You’re safe here.”

Helena felt herself go limper and limper. She just surrendered to it. Diane petted her, whispered to her, practically sang to her. Helena barely listened to any of it. She could barely breathe, and all she could breathe was Diane’s wonderful cinnamon perfume… and musk.

Helena was getting horny again, and she could only pray Diane didn’t realize.

The worst part was, she was pretty sure she’d started getting horny not at being shoved into her professor’s tits… but when her professor had started degrading her.

Her cheeks were burning so hot she swore Diane would be able to feel it.

The embrace seemed to stretch on forever, but when it ended, it felt like it had been pitifully short. At last, Diane released her, and Helena gasped for the crisp, cold air. She hadn’t even realized she was suffocating.

“Now,” Diane said softly, taking a part of Helena’s shirt and using it to dab at Helena’s eyes, “do you think you’re going to be okay to get back to sleep, Helena?”

“I…” Helena took a deep breath and tried to meet Diane’s gaze with some shred of dignity. It was hard to find any after all of this. “A-Actually, I was, um, wondering… if I could, um…”

She couldn’t meet Diane’s gaze. Not just because the light still made her head pound, but because of that suddenly sweet, nurturing shine in Diane’s eyes. She’d been so afraid of Diane just a moment ago. What was happening?

“Could we turn the lights back off?” she managed before ducking her head in embarrassment.

There was a pause.

“Oh! Of course, sweetie. I understand. You want to sleep a bit longer?”

“I. No.” Helena blinked rapidly. “I’m not tired, I just…”

“You’re not tired? Sweetie, it’s 3 in the morning.”

“What?” Helena was so startled she looked back up at Diane without thinking. Pain pierced her head and made her immediately drop her gaze again. “But—but it can’t be, I’m—”

“You need your sleep. This hangover will be gone before you know it.” Diane patted her cheek with a warm smile and rose off the bed.

“B-But I…” It had to be morning. At least. The hangover made it harder to tell, and the blackout curtains didn’t help, and it was still too cold to get out of bed, but… “I’m hungry,” Helena whimpered. She covered her face in her hands. She felt so pathetic. Like a child.

She heard Diane let out a sigh. “Just be good and rest, Helena. I’ll bring you something to drink, okay? In the morning, I’ll have breakfast ready for you downstairs.”

“O-Okay.” Helena gave a tiny nod. She hesitantly lay back down and covered her face. She heard the lightswitch click. The door opened, then shut.

Once again, she could swear she heard the lock click. She supposed that had to be her imagination. It was only 3AM, and people hallucinated when they were tired, right?

~ ~ ~ ~

It was only after Diane returned with a cup of warm milk and a kiss on the forehead, then left again, that Helena remembered the bottle of liqueur.

It wasn’t in the bed anymore.

Panic took her in an instant. Resisting the weight of the blanket, the pounding headache, and the agonizing chill of the room, she wrenched the blankets off and looked over one side of the bed. No sign of it.

Teeth chattering, she looked on the other side of the bed. For a moment, she didn’t see it there, either, and her panic rose into terror. Had Diane…?

Then she spotted it. Just the tip poking out. It had rolled off the bed and then underneath. By pure luck, Diane hadn’t seen it.

Helena took a deep breath to calm herself. Her hand darted down and tucked the bottle a little further underneath, just in case.

She wasn’t sure why she was relieved. It was a horrible temptation. But if Diane saw it… if Diane thought she was tempted…

She couldn’t let Diane down like that. For all Diane’s flaws, Diane was doing so much for her right now. She couldn’t bear to hear that disappointment in Diane’s voice again.

Nor feel Diane’s grip tighten on her wrist like that.

She slipped back under the covers and rubbed her wrist. It still hurt. It might have been bruised.

Everything felt so confusing. She’d meant to… she was going to expose Diane. And now Diane seemed to be taking care of her. But she was also hurting Helena. But Helena was putting Diane in an incredibly uncomfortable position. Helena had come onto Diane last night? The memories were so foggy, but part of it rang true.

Maybe Diane was just stressed. Maybe Diane hadn’t realized how hard she was squeezing. It didn’t feel solid enough. It would make sense in the morning.

Helena took the cup of milk and started to drink.

She didn’t want to think anything was wrong. She kept hoping against hope that there could be some sort of… compromise? That Diane could lose her job but still… stay close to Helena. That Diane wasn’t just doing all this to manipulate Helena, to stall for time. That Diane wasn’t lying about it still being the dead of night.

Maybe Helena was the one stalling for time. She could leave if she wanted to, she realized. It wasn’t like Diane had ever tried to physically stop it, just discourage it, for entirely rational reasons. Helena just hadn’t put her foot down on it yet. She kept making excuses. The room was too cold, the blankets too heavy, the hangover too strong, the light too bright. Trying to delay the inevitable was definitely a habit of hers. Maybe this was as much Helena’s fault as Diane’s, if not moreso. Was it Diane’s job to make sure Helena turned her in? No, that was Helena’s responsibility. She had to be an adult.

Fuck.

She lay back in bed. At least it wasn’t morning yet, at least according to Diane. She couldn’t exactly leave in the middle of the night, could she? For now, she could still lie here and pretend there was a perfect answer she’d think of in the morning.

The milk tasted nice. It kind of tingled on her tongue—she guessed Diane had put some spices in it along with the honey. Diane took such good care of her.

Her eyelids felt heavy. Maybe it was 3AM.

Diane wasn’t lying to her.

Maybe Helena just needed to be a little… more…

… trusting…