Sapphic Voices General Fiction

Corridor Love

CAUTION: This Story contains graphic depictions of extreme violence and of rape.

Elizabeth had fallen in love. In love, with the new girl living across the corridor. Sure they had not been formally introduced and so far the only words that had passed between the two ladies was a hurried “sorry”, as they bumped into each other coming out of the lift. But, there was something special about this woman that had made Liz’s heart skip a few beats and was now so occupying her mind when she was lying alone in bed.

What was it? Liz wondered. Was it her eyes? Deep brown and the shape of a young doe’s. Her hair ? Ashy blonde, shoulder length, with a soft natural curl. Her petite, almost underfed body ? Her clothes? Hell, who knew what the attraction was. But one thing, Liz knew was certain about, is when you start to daydream of an unknown stranger, something on some plane, somewhere, has made a connection.

It was 2 weeks and 5 days ago, when the mysterious lady moved into flat 313. Not that Liz was counting, but around 10 am on that Wednesday morning she had arrived back to her block of flats, having just finished a grueling 3-mile jog. Mentally she was planning the rest of the day, starting with a long relaxing shower and an early lunch. Then quickly get changed for work, leaving for the nursing home at around 12.30 pm. She was a mess, so hot and sweaty, with her long black hair pulled away from her face into a severe, wet ponytail. Her 26 year old body felt like it was pushing 80, with her legs muscles bunched so tight they were screaming for rest. The old Pink Floyd t-shirt left by a previous girlfriend, clung to her slightly curvaceous torso, the faded message drowned in sweat. She felt so unattractive.

A small delivery truck was parked outside her building with 2 beefy guys getting ready to haul some furniture. Into the foyer Liz raced, catching the lift as the doors started to slowly shut. A person, hiding behind an arms full of cardboard boxes was in the corner waiting for the lift to move. Liz was just too tired to think and stood there slightly bent over, fighting to regain her breath. The third floor button had already been pushed and slowly the lift ascended to, life creaking into the shabby old elevator.

Ping! Third floor and the doors labored open. Liz and the stranger moved off together, brushing against each other as they made for the exit.

“Sorry.” A muffled, response came from behind the tower of boxes.

“No, I am sorry,” Liz replied and headed up the corridor and into her flat.

The cool darkness was welcomed, her body soaking up the calm familiar surroundings. Shuffling outside the front door awoke Liz’s curiosity and so, rather tentatively she put her eye up to the front door spy-hole.

“Wow.” A gasp of surprise escaped her lips as she gazed at the angel bending over in front of flat 313. The boxes had just been place on the floor and Liz was looking up a short black mini skirt with a pair of pink cotton panties peeking out. The woman straightened her back and then after rummaging in her bag, finally found the keys for the flat. Even through the fish-eye lens, her new neighbor was stunning and when she turned around, it was the first time that Liz had instantaneously fallen in love. She pulled away from the door, resting the back of her head against the frame, breathless.

Eye against the viewer, she watched the deliverymen cart up the load of very basic furniture. A single bed, small table and a couple of chairs. Then, they dragged up an old sofa, followed by some boxes and a couple suitcases. Liz watched the whole circus, hoping to catch another glimpse of her new neighbor. Then, it ended too soon, and as the last box was brought up, a cash payment exchanged hands and the door slammed shut.

What puzzled Liz was the lack of furniture and personal belongings that had been delivered. To say that the furnishings were “Spartan” was in itself an understatement and the very condition of the delivery looked as if it had come straight out of a poor quality charity shop.

Liz put on the kettle and made herself something to eat, while she waited for the next delivery to arrive. Nothing came. Impatiently, every time she passed by that door viewer she pushed her eye to it, to stare at no. 313, looking for life. Time marched on and knowing that she could not wait any longer, Liz reluctantly had a shower and got ready for work. Afternoon shift was hard work as it involved getting the patients fed at teatime and then putting them into bed. But this way she at least got the weekends off.

During her shower, her mind wandered, with vision of her new neighbor clouding her thoughts. She dried off and psyched herself, talked herself, into introducing herself to no 313 on the way to work. She felt buoyant, even whistling an old mindless Brittany Spear’s song, as she quickly changed into her uniform. On the way out, Liz walked the 10 steps across the corridor and knocked on her “angels” door. She waited and after a few long heartbeats knocked again. There was no answer, so she cheekily put her ear to the door, listening of movement. The flat was quite, seemingly there was no one at home.

The days quickly turned into a full week. During that time, Liz baked a chocolate cake, and took it over as a neighborly gesture of welcome. Again she knocked on the door and when she though she heard shuffling from behind the wooden barrier, she called out and introduced herself. No one came to answer the door and after a few more minutes of knocking Liz return back to her kitchen. Disappointed, she put on the kettle and with a large mug of sweet tea was able to consume half of the cake, by herself, within 20 minutes. She cursed herself as she eyed the remains, knowing full well that the diet she was trying so hard to stick to had just been blown out of the water.

Now to say she was getting desperate was an understatement. Liz started a door knock, trying to find out if any of the other tenants on her floor had met the new person. Old Mrs. Fitzgerald at 311, who was well into her 70’s, looked at her blankly and slammed the door in her face. The horde in 315, insisted that there was no-one next door to them and even went around with her and knocked on the door. The Silvano family consisted of an elderly Italian mama, living with her 3 sons and 2 daughters, in a 2 bedroom flat. Liz got on ready well with this lot and ever since she helped nurse the mother, had found herself part of their extended family. As usual, they were a hotheaded lot, with the older boys wanting to break in and see for them selves, if someone really did live next door to them. Liz was tactful enough and managed to talk them out of doing anything rash. So by the end of the second week, it seemed that no one else on her floor knew of the stranger in flat 313.

Liz was now starting to think that her neighbor was a figment of her imagination. Then in utter desperation, she gathered up the courage and wandered into the basement. After a bit of searching around the furnace and in the never ending corridors, she stumbled upon caretaker. The old man was very reluctant to take about 313, but after a lot of pleading he finally confirmed that someone was indeed now living in that flat. Liz pressed him for more details and it was only after she had forked out 20 dollars, that he suddenly remembered her first name. Julie.

Was she getting obsessed? Even Liz knew that her mind was now too pre-occupied with this Julie. Then, in the middle of the third week since first contact, she woke up to the fact that she was being just plain silly. So she went back to jogging, pushing herself harder and harder. In truth she was trying to purge her mind, and at the same time get her body back in shape.

Returning back from a workout on the Friday morning, Liz was dripping with sweat and smelling like a garlic pizza. She climbed the stairs, the whole 3 floors and ended up on her corridor totally drained. Clearly she had over done it this time. Winded she approached her flat and then 15 feet from her place, Liz froze. There was movement from 313. The door slowly, tentatively swung open and the diminutive figure of Julie poked out her head, looking up and down the corridor.

Liz mind started to work before her body did. “This is it, this is it,’ she inwardly told herself. “What to do? Think. Think.” Liz then felt her legs move, slowly and as Julie turned her head, they made eye contact for the first time. Julie was just as startled, and moved to retreat back into her flat.

“Wait,” Liz said in a panic. “I’m Liz.” She quickly closed the gap between them and held out her hand.

“I’m Julie.” The reply was soft, gentle with a hint of fear.

“I’m your neighbor.” Liz awkwardly pulled back her hand and pointed to her flat. “312. I heard you move in.” God that was lame, Liz thought. Say something friendly or you’ll lose her.

“Do you want to come in for a coffee?” Liz looked away at the floor, frighten that she was staring. Julie was so beautiful up close. Her hair had been pulled back in a loose ponytail that enhanced her sharp chiseled features. Those eyes, Liz felt she could drown in them. Julie was dressed in a modest business suit, dark blue, mid thigh skirt, white blouse and matching jacket. Far from oozing power, she gave the outfit a classic elegance that was rarely seen.

“Look I’m sorry, I not usually this repulsive,” Liz continued. “ A quick shower will make me human.”

Julie smiled at her lame joke and shook her head. “Sorry, but I’m off for a job interview.”

Then came the drawn out moment, almost uncomfortable in nature.

“Look I better go.” Julie pulled away.

“Please, call in on your way back,” Liz said, trying to leave the pleading tone out of her voice. Julie nodded her head; confusing Liz, as she was neither sure if it was a positive or a negative response.

“Good luck, Julie,” Liz called out.

Julie stopped and turned around, with a slight smile on her mouth. “Why, thank you Liz.” Then she stepped into the waiting lift.

Her pain and fatigue became totally forgotten, as Liz darted into her flat. Head back she spun round in circles, softly repeating Julie’s name until she was dizzy. In a state of unbelievable joy, she threw off her jogging clothes and ran naked into the bathroom. Her shower was long and slow, in which she treated herself to a bit of ultimate pampering, which finished on a climatic high. Then it was over and Liz found herself in a state of self-doubt. Would Julie call in? Would her angel go back into hiding? What was her story? These questions pounded her mind, leaving Liz again unsure of herself.

Liz nearly rang up work sick, as she was determined to be at home if and when Julie returned. “Don’t be so silly,” Her mind screamed, putting logical pressure on her wayward heart. Liz pushed herself to the nursing home and worked what seemed a double shift as every minute just dragged by. The clock was teasing her every time she stole a glance at it. She finally got home at 10.30 pm and had to stop her self from rushing up the corridor, when the lift doors eventually opened. Liz paused outside flat 313 with her hand ready to knock. No, how could she, she thought as she turned around to her door, getting her keys for her bag.

A lock clicked behind her and Liz heard the door swing open. Her heart missed a few more beats and she just stood there, frozen with time, waiting for fate to play its hand.

“So, why didn’t you knock.”

Liz spun around and there was Julie, smiling like it was Christmas, her eyes sparkling with fun. She was dressed in a silk black dressing gown, the sheerness of the material highlighting the short shoestring nightie underneath.

“I was off to bed, when I just happened to peek out the spy hole and saw you standing there. Please come on in.”

Stunned, all Liz could do was smile lamely and only moved when Julie grabbed her hand and pulled her into the flat.

“Sorry. I just don’t feel safe out there.” Julie said awkwardly, a faint red blush highlighted her cheeks. The living room was sparser than Liz imagined a room would be. Just the old thread bare sofa set up in front of an even older black and white television. A radio/ CD player was on the coffee table, with a few books in a neat pile up against the corner of the wall. Everything was so clean, a sharp contrast to Liz’s place that was a den of organized chaos.

“I don’t have much,’ Julie apologized. “But when those pay packets start to arrive it will be a new lounge suit.”

“How did the job interview go?” Liz asked, hesitantly.

“I got the job,” Julie answered, excitedly grabbing onto Liz’s hands. “I start Monday. So will you celebrate with me, with a Champagne.” There were sparks forming between the two ladies. Liz could feel the joy, the friendship and a passion, rising from within this stranger.

“Congratulations Julie.” Then without thinking, Liz gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks” Julie let go of Liz’s hands. “I don’t think that I have been this happy for so long. Getting this job is such a milestone for me. I feel like I am starting to break free. Look, sit down, on the couch.” Julie moved across to her kitchen and opened an ancient cream coloured fridge. Liz noted that 2 long stem glasses were already on the cheap laminated table, waiting to be filled.

Liz put down her bag and sat down on the sofa, losing her balanced as she was swallowed into the old lifeless cushions.

“So Julie, what do you do?”

Julie came back with a bottle of California sparkling wine under one arm, the glasses in her hand and a plate of savory biscuits in the other. She placed everything on the coffee table and sat down next to Liz. Her legs appeared from beneath the robe and brushed against Liz’s stocking legs. “I’m a teacher. Primary school, grades 2-4. I’m so lucky to get a job at this time of year, mid term. Could you do the honors?”

Liz picked up the bottle and carefully prized the cork out. It fired out with a pop, ricocheting against the ceiling. Liz felt Julie tense up and as she glanced over, she saw that her friend was visibly shaking.

“What’s wrong?” Liz asked putting down the bottle, without pouring.

“It’s alright.” But as Julie spoke, large tears formed in her eyes as she quickly turned away.

“Hey Julie.” Liz whispered, stroking her clammy hands. “It’s OK. Come on what’s wrong?”

“Pour the drinks.” Julie wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m being silly” She gave Liz the bottle. The glasses were carefully filled and Liz held hers up.

“To your new job.” Liz looked at Julie. “And a new friend.”

“Thanks Liz,” Julie said, smiling bravely. “Hey, I need a new everything.” They sipped their drinks in silence.

“So what do you do Liz?”

“Work in a nursing home. I’m a nursing aid.” The conversation then started slowly, and as the ladies relaxed, the laughter surfaced and they both started to open up. Liz found that Julie asked most of the questions, trying to find out about the city, as she was from interstate. When Liz asked questions back, Julie was skillful at diverting the discussion.

Within a half hour, the bottle was drained, so Liz suggested that she go back to her place to get some refills. Julie nodded in agreement. Liz raced off back to her flat and went straight into the bedroom, throwing off her work clothes. Desperately she emptied her lingerie draw, looking for something suitable to wear. She pulled out a mid calf blue nylon nightgown, which had never been wore and found a pair of matching satin panties. She rushed into the bathroom, grabbed her finest perfume, liberally spraying her body to mask the eight-hour shift she had just worked. There was no time for a shower. She walked out of the bathroom naked, brushing her hair.

“I’ll wait.” Liz looked up and saw Julie standing at her bedroom door. Embarrassed, Liz picked up the nightwear to cover her front. Laughing, Julie held her hands up against her eyes; fingers apart, giggling something like “I won’t look.” Julie was clearly starting to feel the effects of the bubbly. Liz bust out laughing and threw the clothes onto her bed.

“Welcome to my humble flat.” She said. “There’s a bottle of something in the fridge. Please open it and make yourself comfortable. You don’t mind if I have a quick shower?”

“Please be quick,” came the coy reply.

Liz let the shower wash away her doubts. If she had known things would be moving this fast, she would have prepared herself differently. She would have trimmed her pussy, shaved her legs and tidied up the flat. Dam!!! No time for that. She quickly soaped herself, then rinsed, keeping her hair dry. With the shower off, she had finished in less than 5 minutes, a new record for her. She picked up the towel and as she dried her body, she now felt sort of guilty, hoping that this would lead to something wonderful.

The bathroom opened into the living room and as Liz entered it she wrapped her towel up firmly to cover her sexy parts. The room was empty, and dark.

“Julie?” She called cheerfully. She looked at the bedroom and saw that the door was shut, with light streaming out from the cracks in the frame.

Without warning, from the left, Liz felt her face explode with pain. She felt herself falling, with her legs lost to her body, as the force of the blow sent her spinning across the room. The wall broke her fall, knocking the set of family pictures crashing to the floor. Dazed she turned and saw her attacker, only aware of a huge shapeless mass moving quickly toward her. She tried to move, to get away as the giant’s hand lunged forward just missing her squirming torso but latching onto her towel. Her legs flayed out and Liz lurched away. The towel slid off, leaving her so vulnerable. Blood trickled into her mouth, the metallic taste assaulted her senses and she knew then that she had been badly hurt.

Again the hand thrust towards her connecting with her hair. Like a rag doll, Liz was yanked up onto her feet,. The sharp pain caused her to scream out, resulting in a dirty cloth being pushed into her face.

“Shut up bitch.” His acidic breath, a mixture of stale vomit and bourbon, caused Liz to gag and she fell forward trying to dry reach. The rag fell from her face as another fist landed against the right side of her face, instantaneously closing her eye as the blood vessels hemorrhaged.

Liz was now subdued, she had lost all orientation and for a few seconds her mind shut down. She did not know that she was picked up and pushed through the bedroom door and thrown onto the floor. She lay in a ball, softly moaning. Deep male voices around her made no sense. The light stung her good eye as her opened it, desperate for clues.

A man climbed off her bed and like the other assailant was like a giant. Both were white trash, solid bull necked oxen in their late 20’s. Confused Liz found it difficult to tell the two men apart, as they looked identical. Concentrating, her fuzzy mind registered they were related, possibly twins. As they approached all she could do was to pulled her legs in, scared, trying to protect her nakedness.

“So what are you doing to do to my girlfriend, BITCH!” The words were yelled at her, inches from her face. Flecks of spit flew from his mouth as he spoke. Liz backed away, edging up to the wall. “That’s right she’s my girlfriend. I bet Julie did not tell you that.”

Liz grabbed the towel and clung to it as protection.

“Dear Julie thought she could run away. Hide from me and then hitch up with some dyke. Wrong. She is mine and she does what I tell her to do.” He grabbed her chin, releasing a bolt of pain that shot up the left side of her face. Liz screamed and a mouthful of blood oozed from her lips. He pulled her up and she struggled to move with him as he manhandled her into the walk-in wardrobe.

“When I’ve finished with her,” the brute nodded towards the bed. “I will let my brother have a play with you.”

Liz stole a glance at Julie, who was tied spread eagle to the 4 corners of the bed. Apart from the black duck tape around her mouth, Julie appeared to have been unharmed. Her nightdress had been torn away from her body, and the material scattered, leaving Julie virtually naked. Their eyes met, and Liz could read the terror among the tears. Julie slowly shook her head, in a plead for forgiveness, trying to say sorry for what was going to happen. Liz knew that there would be plenty of time for that, if they ever get through this night.

The wardrobe door, leading off the bedroom opened and Liz found herself being unceremoniously thrown into the darkness. The door slammed shut and she heard the key turn in the lock. Liz lay there, curling her legs and arms so she made a ball. Her head and face felt so alien, and the pain seemed to intensify, moving from feeling like a sharp penetrating needle to a heavy pounding ache. Her streaming tears stung the battered skin and as she gingerly touched her swollen eye, her fingers recoiled back in horror.

A scream from the bedroom got Liz slowly to her feet. “O God please don’t hurt her,” Liz prayed. Her hands moved around the door frame and stopped when she found the light switch. She drew breath and flicked it on. Her good eye adjusted, the familiarity of her prison provided temporary comfort. All Liz could hear was muffled talking and laughter. She threw on the first bits of clothing she could reach out for, an old pair of track pants and a sweatshirt. Another scream, longer and more intense, froze Liz and put her in a panic. Knowing that Julie was being messed with hurt her more that the physical beating she had just received.

The old “Billy-Jean King” wooden tennis racket, a long forgotten relic from her mother, caught her attention. Not much, but it was the only weapon she had. Liz moved up to the door and with her ear to the door, clasped hold of the doorknob. She was shaking; her right knee vibrating up and down like some cheap mechanical toy. The only advantage that Liz had was the fact that the wardrobe lock was useless. The key turned the tumblers, but nothing actually happened.

Holding her breath, Liz slowly, so slowly, turned the knob. The door released without a sound and through the crack she could see the “boyfriend” sitting on Julie’s abdomen with his legs on either side of her body. Julie’s face was bloodied and the gag had been removed from her mouth. There was no movement from her tied up body. Liz stared at the chest, looking for sign of breathing, but with brute moving around and struggling to remove his trousers, she could not be sure. She pushed the door open a fraction wider, searching for the twin.

“I’m off for a piss,” a voice boomed from her lounge room. “Then it’s my turn with the other bitch.”

The “boyfriend” grunted something as he shifted his weight, bringing his pants down to his ankles. His back was lined up with the door. Liz saw her chance and burst out of the wardrobe. Acting on pure adrenaline, she swung the sharp edge of the racket down against the side of his head. The wooden weapon shattered, leaving Liz with a splintered stick in her hand. The assailant moved around to face Liz and to her surprise, he tottered forward and slid off the bed, crashing heavily onto the floor at her feet.

“What the…” A yell of confusion came from the living room. Liz spun around to face the bedroom door. The twin was charging towards her, a blood rage clouding his actions. Liz tried to move but the broken racket just fell to the ground. She was spent and could do no more. Liz glanced one more time at the motionless body of Julie and slowly sank to her knees.

A noise cloud descended into her flat. As the twin entered the bedroom, a couple of bodies appeared from behind and landed on his back, sending his sprawling into the foot of the bed. The two older Salvano boys from 315 were laying to the guy with baseball bats. They didn’t let up pounding the cowering hulk of flesh until all movement stopped.

Gino, the eldest, checked the pulse. “He’ll live. Just” He went over to the bedside table and picked up the roll of duck tape. He threw it to his brother, who without saying a word, started to blind up the guys arms and legs.

“Shit, little sister. Are you alright?” He moved the hair away from Liz’s closed eye.

“Julie! Quick Gino help me.” Liz jumped up on the bed, frantically checking out her friend. Gino pulled out a knife and cut Julie loose. There was no movement, Liz could not find a pulse. She was starting to panic.

“Please” she whispered over and over again.

There was movement from the side of the bed, as the “boyfriend” tried to get up. Gino move away from the bed, and swinging the baseball bat once more, brought in down hard against the side of the guys face. There was a cracking sound, and the twin dropped back to the floor.

“Hey Georgie, tie this bastard up.” Gino spoke as if he had just squatted a bug. He looked at Liz, who trance like was rocking slowing on the bed. Gently, she was cradling her head, holding the lifeless body against her chest. Her tears were flowing, and as she stroked Julie’s blood stained hair, he saw she was still whispering.

“Hey Liz.” Gino said. Liz looked up. “We got to go. I’ll ring the cops and get an ambulance. You never saw us. All right? We were never here. I don’t want to meet the fuzz.”

Liz nodded vaguely and stared blankly as the two young men left. She gently put Julie’s head on the pillow and stepped off the bed. She noticed the white ooze that was smeared across Julie’s pelvis, evidence that they had attempted to rape her. Liz picked up the baseball bat and stood in front of the “boyfriend”. He was unconscious and tied up with his trouser and underpants still wrapped around his ankles. Holding the handle and shaft like a spear, she put all her weight on the bat and rammed it into his scrotum. The “boyfriend” shuddered and started to twitch. Liz lent onto the bat, and continued to grind it against the floor. When she threw the bat away, his manhood was missing, crushed and almost pureed into the blooded carpet.

“May you rot in hell.” She grunted, trying to talk, but by now her jaw had locked into place.

Defeated, Liz went back to the bed and sat down beside Julie. The sirens were blaring on the road outside, flashing light waking the neighborhood. There was a slight movement and Liz felt a finger try to take her hand. She looked down. Julie’s eyes were open, tears streaming down her face. In spit of her injuries, Liz managed a scream of joy and the two were still hugging each other as the police came in.

If you have enjoyed Lisa Jade's "Corridor Love", then please be certain to e-mail her at  lisajade01[at]yahoo.com.au  and thank her for posting this Story.

Click here for a list of all of Lisa Jade's  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.