Locker Rooms

A/N: This story has some violence in it, and while everything works out in the end, it is still in here. In real life, this stuff happens, and it usually doesn't end in erotica.

Well, enough downer time already, get to the boobs!

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I looked around nervously in the locker room. No one had been in the gym, no one would be in here either, I said to myself. I kicked myself again for exercising without a safe shower to go to. Taking a deep breath, I promised myself that I would just take a quick shower, wash myself off, and then figure out what the hell I was going to do about everything that was fucked with my life.

I felt the hot water spill through my dark hair as all of my worries relaxed away. I was glad that the shower head was tall enough to fit my 5'11" body. Nothing's worse than taking a shower that's just a little bit too short.

I'm as blind as a bat without my glasses, which I take off to shower, but I love the feeling of hot water on my skin. Letting a sigh escape my lips, I remembered why I needed to hurry.

I picked up the bar of soap that was offered as complementary, but most people dismissed because of the harshness and scum it left behind. I'm no soap connoisseur, but even I wondered if the gym ordered especially poor soap so that they didn't have to buy very much of it. On the other hand, beggars can't be choosers.

I began lathering my neck, then washing my shoulders and arms, washing the dirt off of my light brown skin. I moved my hands down to my small breasts, massaging them gently between my soapy digits. Then I heard the door creak open.

Who was there? Could they see me? I groped around for my glasses, hurriedly trying to extricate myself from the shower. My hand clumsily knocked my glasses off of the divider in my rush to escape.

"Hello?" I heard a soft female voice call into the shower. "Is somebody there?"

I could hear her hesitant footsteps drawing nearer. I thought about talking, but I realized I was huffing in and out and that I had almost no chance of keeping my voice steady. I decided to try to get away before she came into view. I redoubled my efforts to find my glasses on the floor.

If I could just find my stupid glasses I could escape to the locker rows, cover myself with a towel and leave. But even after what felt like forever on my hands and knees, I couldn't locate them. I heard the footsteps stop. I froze, feeling my chest constrict even as I tried desperately to inhale again.

"Hello there," I heard the voice say. I looked up at her and saw a black and tan blob, but I couldn't tell any distinguishing features.

"Here, you dropped your glasses," she said, and bent over and picked up an object a good five feet in front of me. How had they gotten over there?

"Are you all right? You seem out of breath," she said. "Hey! Hey, look at me. Focus. What's wrong? Do you need help?"

I shook my head and reached my hand out for the glasses. I didn't expect her to react like this. I don't know what I expected, but I didn't think anyone would try to comfort me. I started to get control of my breathing. I felt her press them into my palm, but continue to hold onto them.

"Are you sure you're ok?" She said earnestly as I tried to take the glasses.

"Yeah," I managed to get out, even though it was shaky as hell.

"Ok, that's..." she said, stopping mid-sentence. She still wouldn't let me have my glasses, and I just wanted to be able to see, so I tugged slightly to let her know that I really was ok.

"Ah!" she screamed, and a split second later there was a burst of pain directly beneath my ribcage, and I let out a sharp grunt.

Ow.

I tried to understand what was happening. A second burst of pain, and I realized I was being kicked by the woman holding my glasses. I let go of the glasses as I felt a third kick completely knock the wind out of me. I curled into a ball arms over my neck and head, realizing that naked and blind I had no chance of fighting back.

I heard a high pitched whine as my solar plexus involuntarily convulsed, trying to get air into my lungs. I realized I was the one making that noise. I heard the other woman breathing heavily and the scuff of her shoe as she brought it back again.

I tensed, expecting another kick, but none came. I tried desperately to get air into my lungs, but I couldn't, and the pain in my chest was becoming unbearable.

I heard her foot touch the floor. I saw my chance.

I immediately rolled to my feet and started to run for the rows of lockers where the confined space would give me almost equal footing with her. Two steps into my escape, I slipped on some old soap residue and slammed back into the wet tile floor.

I was completely disoriented, and feeling blinding pain in all parts of my body, I tried to curl back into a fetal position, but it hurt too much and I stopped. Hot tears smeared on my cheeks. I managed to at least pull my limbs close to me as I felt the excruciating pain and shame burn through my whole body as I lay on the cold, wet ceramic.

"Oh! Oh. Shh," I heard the voice from before say. "It's ok, I'm sorry, shh, it's going to be ok."

I felt a hand gently pet my head.

"Are you ok? I just freaked out, I'm sorry I didn't mean to... where does it hurt?" she said. What? Wasn't she just attacking me a minute ago? What was she doing?

I couldn't control my crying at all by this point, and I let myself go to jelly in her arms as she pulled me up into her lap. She kept up her quiet assurances and started rocking back and forth gently. At some points, when I was crying as hard as I could, she even gently kissed the back of my head to comfort me.

Eventually, I got control of my sobbing. She pulled me up into a hug, and I hugged her back as I finally got my breathing under control. Her breasts pressed into mine as I got my heaving down to a manageable level. As I pulled away, I felt her push my glasses onto my face and at last the world came into focus.

I was looking into the blue eyes of a finely featured Caucasian woman with a dirty blond pixie cut and a look of concern on her face. She helped me shakily get to my feet. I was surprised she was only a few inches shorter than me.

"Are you sure you're ok?" she said. "I hit you pretty hard there."

"S'ok," I sniffled. I noticed her slightly southern tones now that I had heard her speak without any distractions.

"I really didn't... I'm sorry," she said as we started walking to my locker. "I'm just new to the city, and I probably freaked myself out with news reports and... you don't really need to hear any of this, do you? Here, take my towel."

I felt the fluffy material of the towel wrap around my body and cover me in its dry warmth. I sat down on the bench, shivering now that I sensed the cold for the first time. I only barely noticed her large bust in her black gym clothes.

"You poor thing, you're shivering," she said, "Here, take my towel too."

Her warm body pressed into mine as she wrapped me in another towel. I looked at her and smiled my appreciation to her.

"Thank you," I managed to get out.

"Don't thank me," she said, "I beat you up, I think I should at least take care of you."

"Well, thanks anyway," I said. "Not a lot of people stop the kicking once they start."

"I... that's really sad," she said, and put her arm around me. She gave me a gentle squeeze.

"It's ok," I said, "Really. You just knocked the wind out of me for a bit."

"I still feel like I should make it up to you somehow," she said. "If there's anything you need, anything at all, just ask. I do have a question, though, if it's ok to ask..."

I grimaced.

"Why do I have what I have between my legs?" I guessed.

"I... well, yeah. I'm just curious, if you don't want to talk about it, I don't want to be a- jerk, about it," she said, catching herself.

"I'm a trans woman," I said. She stared at me blankly.

"I'm afraid I don't know what that means," she said.

"I'm a woman born with a male body," I said. "And then I fixed it. Well, as best I could."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess. You're different than I thought a... trans woman would be," she said. "Which is silly, I know, but I grew up in a pretty small town, and I never really considered it all that much before."

"Thanks," I said as I leaned my head against her shoulder.

"Wait, for what?" she said, confused.

"For listening to me," I said, "And for being pretty decent."

"Well, after knocking you around like I did, it's really the least I could do," she said. I sat there, leaning my head against her and wished that I could stay there forever.

"Well, actually, there is something you can do for me... "I trailed off nervously, knowing she would never agree. But I was desperate. I had to ask her.

"What?" she said, looking at me with a worried expression.

"I actually could use a place to stay," I said quietly. "I just got kicked out of my last place, and I haven't been able to find a new one that I can afford, and it would just be for a little bit, and I wouldn't need much space or anything, and I wouldn't even really need to unpack my boxes-"

"Slow down," she said, "You're hyperventilating again. Come on. Breathe with me. Deep breath, hold it... now let it out. In, and out. In, and out. Good, that's good. And of course I'll let you stay. Actually, I've been looking for a roommate. I get nervous living alone."

"Really?" I said. Was she serious?

"You saw how I reacted to you, didn't you? I'm a little high strung sometimes," she said.

"You don't even know my name yet," I said, still incredulous.

"Well, I guess you'll have to tell me," she said. "I'm Chelsea."

"I'm Veronica," I said. "This is... really nice of you, I don't even know what to say. Thanks."

"Really, it isn't any trouble," she said, "Now, I know you say your fine, but I'm a nurse and I really wouldn't feel comfortable without a least looking at your bruises, ok?"

Gently, she slipped her arms inside of my towel and opened it, looking at my rib cage. She put her hand on each of the bruises on my torso, and I winced at her business like touches. I noticed her eyes seemed to linger on my breasts longer than I thought a medical practitioner would, but I brushed it off as curiosity.

"Sorry," she said, "Nothing is broken, but you're going to have some pretty nasty bruises for a couple of days. I'm going to give you some ibuprofen when we get to my apartment."

I got dressed, and I drove her the short distance back to her apartment. I took up a box with my overnight things in it and dropped it in the room she showed me.

"It came pre-furnished, and I've just moved in, so feel free to make yourself at home in here," she said. "I was going to use this as my bedroom, and the other bedroom as a studio, but honestly, I spend enough nights in my studio asleep that I don't think this will be much of a change."

"I don't want to kick you out of your own bedroom," I said.

"Really, it's no problem," Chelsea assured. "I haven't slept in here since Tuesday, if that tells you anything about how much I actually sleep in here. I've only lived here a month, I only have a few things to move."

In short order, she had moved the few possessions she had in the room and I put my box down on the dresser, the only other furniture in the room besides the bed.

"I'll get the other stuff in the morning," I said, "I think I'm just going to go to sleep now. It's been a very, very long day."

"Ok, I'll be up for a bit but I think I'm probably go to bed myself soon," she said. She smiled at me as she walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. I surreptitiously checked her out as she left the room.

Sitting down on the bed, I got dressed in my old T-shirt and flannel pants. I crawled under the covers and wondered about how I had gotten so lucky as to actually be able to sleep in a bed tonight. I thought back to the shower in the boy's locker room, back to my junior year. I remember seeing the blood... my blood flowing down the drain.

I felt the cold tile on my skin again, and I could taste the bile of a dry heave in the back of my throat. I tried to curl into a tighter ball but it wouldn't stop...

I cried a bit. Not the aching, heaving sobbing I had that wracked my entire being from the locker room, but the kind of cry you have when you're stressed out and need a release. After a few minutes, I heard Chelsea humming to herself in the other room. I opened my eyes, and felt the bed sheets instead of harsh tile. I saw a tasteful female nude instead of faces contorted in anger. Slowly the blood drained out of my aching head, and I was feeling much better. I realized that my eyes would be puffy in the morning if I didn't wash my face, so I decided to go take care it.

On my way to the bathroom, I heard repetitive sound. I couldn't immediately identify where it was coming from or what it was, but I recognized a pattern to it. As I approached Chelsea's room, it got louder and I realized it was a bed squeaking.

Putting my hand to my mouth when I realized what she must be doing, I quickened my pace to the bathroom, feeling rather dirty at my unintentional voyeurism. I was about to open the door to the bathroom when I heard a low moan.

"Oh v... your lips are so soft..." came the muffled moan underneath the door. I quickly shut the door to the bathroom and started running the water, hoping that I could block out the sounds that were clearly meant to be private.

After washing my face off in the water, I turned off the water and ventured out into the hallway, hoping that she had finished up. I was only about ten seconds away from getting my wish, hearing a loud gasp and then silence.

As I crawled into bed, I saw her light go out. Was she actually getting herself off to me? I didn't really know what I thought about that. She seemed like she nice, but my mind went to a sinister place. Was she expecting something from me? Was she only letting me live in her apartment because she wanted to use me? Was this some kind of power trip?

I thought about it, and realized that she hadn't actually done anything creepy other than enjoy herself behind closed doors. I drifted off to sleep imagining her playing with herself in front of me.

When I awoke, I was greeted by a doughy smell wafting from outside my room. I quickly dressed myself, made sure my undergarments were behaving, and walked to the kitchen.

"Hey there, roomie," Chelsea said, her back turned to me. I heard the sizzle of eggs and saw steam rising from a waffle iron.

"Hey," I said, still groggy from my sleep. I considered sitting on the hardwood chair at the breakfast nook, but decided to save my time sitting for when I was eating. Maybe I should buy her some chair cushions as a new roommate present, if I could find the money.

"I guess I should have asked before I started cooking, but are you vegetarian or anything like that?" she asked.

"No, I don't really have any dietary restrictions," I said absently. Should I tell her? Should I just let sleeping dogs lie?

"Something on your mind?" she said, turning around and dumping the eggs onto a large plate.

"Well, there's something, actually," I said.

"And that something is?" she said.

"Well, it's a little embarrassing," I said.

"I've already seen you naked, I'd like to think I can deal with deep dark secrets," she said.

"Um, actually, it's a little embarrassing for you," I said.

"What is it?" Chelsea said, turning a bit redder.

"I went out to the bathroom after you thought I went to bed," I said, trying to look at anything but her face. "I kind of, accidently, um, overheard you... enjoying yourself..."

"Oh my god!" she said, her hand flying to her face. "I wasn't trying to... I'm so sorry."

"No, it's not that I mind," I said. What? Did I just say that? "I mean, it's natural, is what I mean, I just didn't want this to be weird thing. Like, an awkward thing."

"Oh," she said. She had a supremely guilty look on her face. "How much did you hear?"

"I, um... who's V?" I asked in a whisper that matched hers. Her answer was to turn bright red.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Oh," I said barely audibly. I stood there trying to think of something to say. She stood with her head down like a disobedient schoolgirl.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want you to hate me," she said, sounding like she was on the verge of crying. "I'm sorry that I took advantage of your situation to get you here, and if you just want to leave I'll pay for you to stay somewhere. I thought I could stop it..."

"Stop... masturbating?" I asked. I tried to look into her eyes, and upon hearing my question, her distraught face snapped up and held my gaze.

"What? No, lusting after... you know... girls..." she said, again looking away.

"There's nothing wrong with being a lesbian," I said. "Or bisexual, or whatever. It doesn't make you a bad person."

"You don't care?" she said, eyes wide with disbelief.

"I should hope not," I said. "I mean, I'm lesbian myself."

"You are?" she asked with a little wonder in her voice. "But then why did you care who saw you in the locker room? I mean, I thought that lesbians..."

"I'm lesbian, not an exhibitionist," I said. "Besides, it doesn't matter what other people think or expect you to do. Or at least I try to tell myself that when I'm not busy having a panic attack."

"Thanks," she said, beaming.

"For what?" I asked as she turned around to tend to the eggs again.

"For giving me that talk," she said, turning around again. "It's nice for someone to tell you that you're normal, for once."

Then she leaned in and kissed me with her velvety lips.

I was completely taken aback. What was she doing? I quickly pulled my head back from her.

"Whoa, there, girly," I said, as she met my gaze.

"Do you not want me?" she said.

"No," I said, "I'm just concerned that you suddenly have all kinds of new gay confidence and are misreading things here."

"What do you mean," she said as she stepped more into my personal space as I backed away a bit.

"We barely know each other!" I said. "We're roommates!"

"I've seen you naked," she said reaching into my back jean pockets. "And I'm not going to kick you out if you really don't want to. I'm naive, not childish."

"We haven't known each other for a whole day! This is really fast," I said. I could feel the bile from last night rising in my throat again.

"What's the real reason," she said, throatily into my ear. "I can assure you that I can imagine pretty well what I'm doing here. Is it too fast for you?"

"Yes," I said meekly. I couldn't believe how pathetic I was. This girl had been ok with herself for a total of less than five minutes and already she had more confidence than me after five years.

"Ok," she said, backing off. "You have that look like you want to talk about something again."

Great, she was psychic too.

"You just can turn on a switch from hating yourself to confident," I said. "I struggled for years with this, and I still have bad days. How can you be completely fine with this so quickly?"

"You," she said. "I've been thinking all night about you. Not just like that, but also how much you risk being yourself, even though it clearly terrifies you sometimes. I was only concerned that you would hate me when you found out I was lesbian, but then you were ok with that, too, and um... I really like you. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

"It's ok," I said, letting myself relax a little. "I guess I'm just a little jealous."

"Well, you're the one that helped me," she said. I felt a little rise in my chest from that. She was still standing close to me, her nipples standing erect in her t-shirt. I looked at her and I wanted to hold her, I realized. I slipped my arms around her and rested my head on her shoulder.