Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Hero and Anti-Hero

Chapter 2: Beginnings

Chapter 3: New Friends

Chapter 4: In which Shane meets a boy

Chapter 5: In which Shane meets a girl

Chapter 6: Turmoil

Chapter 7: Help in Strange Places

Intermission: Victoria's Story

Chapter 8: Learning the Ropes

Chapter 9: The Truth

Chapter 10: Family Sucks

Chapter 11: A New Plan

Chapter 12: Getting Along

Chapter 13: Time to Feed the Muse

Intermission: Shane's Story

Chapter 14:Making Amends

Chapter 15: Remaining Ripples

About the Author

Chapter 1: Hero and Anti-Hero

I remember the girl. She was young enough I thought of her as a girl but old enough I should call her a woman. She seemed unextraordinary. She was of moderate height wearing nondescript clothes. Jeans and a tee-shirt, I suppose. I’m not really sure now. In an earlier age she would have appeared out of place downtown during business hours, but with casual Friday turning into casual everyday over the years, the girl looked only slightly less dressed up than many of the people hurrying along the sidewalks during their lunch breaks.

Only she wasn’t hurrying. Maybe that’s why I first noticed her. Or maybe it was her hair. Long and almost flame red. One couldn’t help but notice her hair. It was unkempt and wind-tossed, but still very striking. I remember wondering whether she realized just how wonderful her hair was.

She seemed oblivious to what was going on around her. She stopped and knelt down, I suppose to tie her shoe. She must not have noticed the light rail train coming up behind her.

I don’t remember where I was going, what I was doing there. But I remember this. I was suddenly next to her, reaching down and wrapping my arms around her midriff, yanking her up to pull her out of the way moments before the train could reach her. She let out a quick screech. Or maybe it was the train.

I remember the impact. The train struck me in the back, really just a glancing blow, but it sent both of us flying. I hit something else. A parked car, perhaps.

Then all went black.

* * *

Time passed. I couldn’t have told you how much. I could only tell you that time had passed. Awareness came to me patiently. It started with sounds. None of the expected sounds, though. No traffic noises, no beeping of hospital machines, no footsteps of nurses hurrying to tend to patients.

I remembered the accident. I knew I had to have been badly hurt. I did a little mental check, wondering when the pain would kick in. I wondered briefly if I had been paralyzed in the accident, if that was the reason why I couldn’t feel anything. But I realized that I could feel my weight against the bed and a sheet pulled up to my chin. I eventually decided I must be on some really good painkillers. Gratitude seemed an appropriate emotion.

At some point I opened my eyes. It was dark at first, but then the room began to brighten. It was strange. Although I could see light, there was no form, nothing for my eyes to focus upon. It was as if I were seeing the entire world through frosted glass.

I heard a noise, the sound of someone shifting in a chair beside my bed. I turned my head to see who was watching over me. What I saw instead was a bright light, too bright to look into. I squinted, but that didn’t help. Then the light began to dim and a form began to take shape. Sitting in a comfortable chair beside my bed was a woman I didn’t recognize.

She was glowing with a white, golden, purple, red, silver light. I blinked. She was still glowing, smiling softly at me. I looked around, but all I could see was the bed I was in and the woman in her chair. There was nothing else to see.

I looked back at her, opened my mouth to speak. All that came out was a rough croak. I closed my mouth and swallowed. The woman continued to wait patiently, still smiling softly at me. I looked at her, waiting for my voice to come to me, and realized how amazingly beautiful she was. Here was a woman to steal the hearts of all mankind with just a glance of her eyes and a twitch of her mirthful lips. I was at least half in love with her immediately.

I tried again to speak. This time, the sounds made more sense. “Where am I?” I paused for just a moment. The woman seemed to know I had more to say. “The girl? Is she okay?”

As if pleased with my questions, her smile grew briefly before being replaced with a more serious expression. “Where are you? You are Between.”

The answer made no sense. “Between where?”

“Between Earth and Heaven,” was the reply. Which also made no sense. The woman just watched me, ever patiently, while I puzzled it out. I stared off in the distance, focusing on nothing for a moment, then my eyes snatched back to hers.

“I was wrong.”

“To be fair,” she replied. “You never really made up your mind one way or the other.”

I considered her words. She didn’t seem upset with me. “You’re…” I said, asking a question.

She just nodded once, slowly, almost as a mini bow.

“So, I died.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” she said. “Neither of you were. I’m sorry. I was…” she paused. “Distracted,” she said eventually.  “If I had seen what she was going to do, I’d have intervened.”

“But,” I said, sputtering. “You’re God. You can do anything! Can’t you just roll back time, undo everything?”

She looked at me sadly, apologetically. “You shouldn’t believe all the propaganda.”

“You said, ‘What she was going to do.’ She knew the train was coming?”

The woman nodded again. “I knew she was troubled. She had much to be troubled over, but so much promise too. I had such hopes for her.” Then she looked at me directly. “And for you.”

“For me? I’m just-“

She interrupted me. “No one is just anything. You all cast ripples throughout the world with small actions sometimes having such profound effect. You had some ripples waiting inside you, ripples I very much would have enjoyed watching. And the girl, too. I needed her, needed her to seek help for her troubles.” She paused, smiled for a moment. “Help can appear in the strangest places, you know.”

I let her words sink in. “The girl died too?”

“No. And yes. Her body is in a coma. Very recoverable. I wouldn’t even need to nudge things along. Which I almost never do anyway. But her soul is a different story. It’s in tatters. I can’t send her back like this, not for a long time. Too long for her body to wait for her.”

A glass of water appeared in her hand. She stood up, cradling my body for me, and held the glass to my lips. I drank carefully. Then she laid me back into the bed and smoothed the sheet over my body again.

She watched me, allowing me to settle my thoughts, before she spoke again.

“So, where was I? Oh, yes. Ripples. I would really, truly enjoy watching those ripples from both of you. But the problem is, I have one working soul: yours. And one working body: hers. I can’t send her soul back to her body, and I can’t send your soul back to your body. So we’re left with one working solution.”

She sat back, looking quite pleased with herself. She let me figure out the rest on my own.

“You want to send me back into her body?”

“Exactly!” she said, beaming. “It’s a good body. Slightly bruised of late, but bruises heal. She’s troubled, and you’ll inherit those troubles. You’ll have her memories, and I’ll leave you some of your own. I can’t let you take too many details with you; leaving you with the temptation to contact people from your old life is far too cruel. And I hope you can embrace this new life rather than pine for the old one.”

“You’re talking as if I have a choice.”

“Of course you do,” she told me. “I never send a soul to Earth if it doesn’t want to go.”

I considered for a moment. “Can I ask some questions first?”

“You want to know why I allow evil in the world.”

It was my turn to smile. “Of course I do, but I can figure that out on my own.”

She laughed, and it was if the heavens laughed with her. I suppose they did. “I gave you all brains,” she said finally. “I do so love when you actually use them.”

She sat, chuckling to herself for a few more moments, then quieted down and waited for me to ask my questions.

“Why me?” I asked simply.

“Oh, so many reasons,” she said. “But at the core of them is this: you have such a strong sense of right and wrong, and it all comes from within yourself. You don’t need me or anyone else to tell you what’s right and what’s wrong. I love this about you.”

I considered what she said. She was right, I guess. I hadn’t lived my life worrying so much about what others thought was right and what was wrong, but I decided myself. “What about when I’m at a disagreement with the religious leaders?”

“Ah, the people who profess to speak for me, who know what I like and what I don’t?”

I nodded.

“Take those people with a grain of salt,” she said simply.

“One more question?” I asked. She nodded. “My dog?”

“Your brother.”

At that point, I started to cry. “Hush, hush,” she said, patting my hand. “Your brother is going to grow to love your dog.”

“I know,” I said, blubbering. “He’s good with dogs. I was just afraid no one would take her in.”

She crawled into the bed with me, cradling me in her arms, rocking back and forth and making soothing noises.

“I’m sorry,” I said after a time. “I shouldn’t be this upset.”

“It’s hard to give up everything you once knew,” she replied. She continued to rock me as a mother would a young child. As I calmed down, she laid me back into the bed and slipped into her chair again. I dried my eyes with the sheet. She smiled.

“So what do you want me to do when I go back?”

“Be yourself,” she said. “Would you like some advice?”

I nodded.

She raised one finger. “Don’t talk about any of this.”

“They’ll think I’m mad.”

“Exactly.” She raised another finger. “Follow your heart.” She raised a third finger. “Trust your instincts.” She waggled her fingers at me. “Remember, help is sometimes found in unexpected places.”

She continued to waggle her fingers, almost in a wave, and I felt myself slipping away from her. But then she spoke again, and it was is if she were whispering directly into my ear.

“One last thing,” she said. “I surely do enjoy reading your stories.”

I remember my last thought as everything disappeared.

God likes my stories?

Chapter 2: Beginnings

I woke slowly, awareness of my surroundings coming in fits and starts. At first I heard the sounds, the hissing and beeping of hospital machines.

I remembered the accident. I remembered kneeling down, waiting for fate to take its course. Fate arrived in the form of a pair of arms pulling me from the train’s path. I remembered seeing the girl, kneeling, and wrapping my arms around her to pull her to safety. I remembered my body shielding my body from the impact of the train.

Then, I remembered a very odd conversation.

“God likes my stories?” I said.

I slept.

Time passed. I couldn’t have told you how much. I went from unawareness to awareness slowly. I think my eyes had been open for a while before I realized what I was seeing.

She shifted, turning the pages of her book. I must have watched my mother for some time while she read. She turned a page. She turned a page. She looked up and saw me watching her.

“Honey?” she said. She dropped her book and flew to my bedside, leaned over me and wrapped me in her arms. I felt her breath against my ear. She shuddered as I wrapped my arms around her in turn.

“Mom.” I said. My throat cracked, and I couldn’t say anything else quite yet.

She murmured into my ear all the expected things, how worried she and Dad had been, how much she loved me, how they’d prayed for me. I let her hold me. I could feel her tears against my cheek.

“Mom?” I said again after a while. “Water?”

She tightened her hug for just a moment longer, whispered “I love you so much,” into my ear, then leaned back. “I’ll get the nurse,” she told me.

My thoughts drifted as the door closed behind my mother. I must have fallen back asleep for a few moments, but woke up again when a nurse began poking and prodding at me the way nurses do.

I opened my eyes and the nurse stopped her prodding. She looked quite fierce, but she had pretty eyes, eyes that were scowling at me.

“Can you hear me?” she demanded.

I nodded, just once.

“You’ve been in an accident,” she told me. “Do you remember what happened?”

I looked at her, deciding. I shrugged. She didn’t seem pleased by that response.

“Do you know your name?” she asked.

What a silly question. Of course I knew my name. It was. Pat? No, that wasn’t right. My brow furrowed.

“Her name is Shane,” said my mother.

Right. My name is Shane. “Shane Elizabeth,” I said. Mother smiled at me like I’d just won the Nobel Prize in name remembering. “Water?” I asked.

The nurse nodded. “Only a little.” She puttered for a moment with a small plastic pitcher and a cup then gave me a good case of vertigo by adjusting the bed up without warning me. She unceremoniously inserted the straw between my lips then stole it away again before I could get a good solid drink. Stingy nurse.

“Do you know where you are?” she asked me.

I looked around. I was clearly in a hospital. There was an IV drip on a stand to my left, the line disappearing under the covers of the bed, presumably to eventually terminate at a needle buried in my arm somewhere. I felt a blood pressure cuff wrapped lightly around my right harm – I learned later it automatically took my blood pressure far too frequently for a proper rest. There was a television hanging from the ceiling and a curtain pulled around the bed, shielding me from seeing whether there was anyone else in the room with us.

I looked drowsily at the nurse and said “Hospital”. I don’t remember falling back asleep.

I dreamt. I dreamt I was 18, young and troubled. I dreamt I was nearly 50, old, and in a job that paid the bills but left me unfulfilled. I yearned for the choices of youth. I wondered what would become of me.

Time passed. I woke. Mother was in her chair beside my bed, reading, the morning light from the window backlighting her.

“Mom?”

She looked up and smiled at me. It was a mother smile, the kind that says she loves you so much. “What day is it?”

“Tuesday,” she said.

That wasn’t very helpful. “Tuesday the what?”

She looked confused for a moment. “Oh honey, I’m sorry. Tuesday, July tenth.”

July tenth. I thought back. “A week. I’ve been here a week?”

She nodded. “Your father and I were so worried, but then you woke up yesterday.” She paused, looking at me with concern. “Do you remember what happened, honey?”

I nodded. “I was downtown. There was a train. Someone tried to save me.”

“Yes. That person died.”

Mother looked away, then looked back with a bright face, turning her back on the unpleasantness. That was typical mother. See no evil. That was the last time either of my parents ever mentioned the person who had died to save me. “Are you hungry? There’s Jell-O.”

* * *

The next days went as one might expect. I slept a lot, groggy from healing, groggy from the pain medications they must have been giving me. The doctor stopped in from time to time and assured me I’d be right as rain in no time.

No one gave me a mirror, but my mother brushed my hair for me the first thing she did every time she came to visit.

Nurse Sternly was my day nurse. No, that wasn’t her name, but it sure would have fit her. She could have been pretty if she hadn’t plastered such an unhappy scowl on her face all the time. She had strong hands, but they were gentle with me.

I thought of the night nurse as Nurse Bubbly. Her real name was Kristin. She was practically the opposite of Nurse Sternly. Well, except her hands were gentle, too.

My first trip to the bathroom was quite the experience. Bathrooms always have mirrors. I regarded my expression, trying to decide what kind of woman I was.

My hair was long, red and full. Mother had just brushed it, so it hung neatly. She had brushed it to fall behind my shoulders, but I reached up and tucked it around to fall in front of my left shoulder. I thought that looked much better.

I stared at myself in the mirror, not really recognizing myself. “Who were you, Shane Elizabeth Dowling, and what demons were chasing you so horribly?” The mirror didn’t answer, and Shane’s memories weren’t any help.

Eventually, of course, the doctor proclaimed me fit enough to go home. I was able to amble up and down the hallway a few times, feed myself, and use the bathroom without assistance. He told me to take it easy for a few more days and to slowly increase my daily activities back to normal level.

“College starts in September,” my mother told him. “Will she be fit to go?”

“Oh absolutely,” he said.

College? Hadn’t I finished college years ago? Oh, no, I hadn’t. I was Shane now, 18, entering my freshman year at Knightly College, an hour’s drive from home in a small college town. Knightly College? Shane had been pretty darned bright to get accepted there.

What had the woman said? Such promise Shane had held?

We lived in a modern home in a second ring western suburb. It was a two-story house with a walkout basement. Not quite a McMansion, but not far from it, either. Mom and Dad both picked me up from the hospital to drive me home, mother chattering away, Dad looking stern and saying little. But when we arrived home, he offered to carry me into the house.

“I can walk,” I told him. He nodded once, but then insisted I sit in the car while he ran around to open my door. Then he took my arm as I got out, treating me as if I were quite fragile. I let him walk me to the front door.

I stepped inside, and Dad insisted I sit in the chair we keep near the front door, normally used while taking off shoes, while he fetched my things from the car. I complied meekly, looking around the foyer. In front of me was a set of stairs to the second floor where all the bedrooms were. To the left was the dining room. To the right was Dad’s home office, which also doubled as the guest room. If I were to go straight ahead, parallel to the stairway, I could head towards the back of the house where I’d find a great room and kitchen well suited for entertaining.

Mom and Dad came in together, whispering quietly. They caught me as I looked askance at the staircase. “Honey, do you need us to make up the guest room? Are the stairs too much?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said stubbornly. Before either of them could say anything further, I stood up and headed for the stairs.

* * *

I made it up the stairs just fine, of course, but was tired. I took a long nap, not waking up until my mother came in with my pain medications. I looked at them in her hand then meekly downed them with the water she gave me. “They’re going to make me sleep some more though,” I complained.

“You’ll feel better soon, honey,” she reassured me. I told her I had to use the bathroom. She helped me stand, which wasn’t necessary, but at least didn’t insist on coming in with me.

My little brother and I shared one side of the upstairs with a bathroom available off the hallway between our two rooms. When we’d first been looking for the house, we’d looked at a few with Jack and Jill bathrooms, but neither Matt nor I were remotely interested in that option.

As I write this, it seems quite natural to talk in Shane’s voice, but understand, this was all very strange to me at the time. I felt like my old self, my not-Shane self, but I had all of Shane's memories and only some of my own. It was strange. I couldn’t remember my dog’s name – one of the details that didn’t come with me. But I remembered Shane’s brother’s name.

When I got to the bathroom, I did the normal things one does in a bathroom. After washing up I examined myself in the mirror.

The accident hadn’t caused any bruising or marring of my face, for which I was thankful. So of course the first thing I noticed was my hair. It was long, very curly, and red. I ran my fingers through it, imagining how unruly it must be when unattended. I thought about cutting it to make it easier to handle, but decided I couldn’t do it. I vowed to wear my hair as long as I could and to silently suffer the time required to take care of it.

I looked at my face. I was carrying a little extra weight. Not a lot extra, but still, enough. “Okay, Shane,” I said. “Let’s see the worst of it.” I was wearing a tee shirt, bra, and jeans. I removed them all, shortly finding myself standing in front of the mirror wearing only my panties. I gave myself a critical look.

I was still sporting some yellow-tinged bruises across my legs that were mostly faded. The abrasions on my hands and arms were nearly entirely healed. I turned around so my back faced the mirror, and I looked at myself over my shoulder. My back was a splotchy yellow with the dying remnants of extensive bruising. My right hip was deeply bruised along with the outside of my right leg, although the bruises had also turned splotchy yellow and faded.

I turned my eye to a critical examination of myself, the new body I wore. It was familiar and alien at the same time. There were curves most of the places where curves belonged. I decided that Shane hadn’t abused her body, but she wasn’t perhaps rigorous in taking care of it either. I moved in front of the mirror, flexing my arms to check for tone, then did the same with my legs. I decided a solid exercise regiment would make me feel good and look better.

It was then I realized that standing in front of the mirror was exhausting me. I could start exercising tomorrow.

* * *

My body continued to heal as July headed towards August. I settled in to what seemed like a new home to me, but which became increasingly familiar. So too did my family.

My mother’s name was Elizabeth. She went by Beth most of the time. The Elizabeth in her name and my middle name came from my great-grandmother. Great grandma was quite the woman, and I knew my first daughter would carry her name as well.

My father was Gordon. Mom was a traditional stay-at-home mom. She kept the house well, meals interesting, doted on Matt and I, and was very active in church activities. Dad was a mortgage broker for a bank. He was one of the good ones, I guess. We’d probably have had a bigger house if he’d been more willing to engage in the types of activities that led to the housing crisis. Dad actually talked to his clients, making sure they were taking a pragmatic attitude towards purchasing a home. As I assimilated Shane's memories, I decided I was proud of him.

The entire family attended church every Sunday, Dad and Matt in suits, Mom and I in conservative dresses. In an earlier time we would have worn hats and white gloves.

I started to exercise, too. I had this wonderful body, and I wanted it to be all it could be. I started with a walk around the block, which thoroughly tired me out, but by the third day, I was riding my bicycle. The first of August found me fully healed and up to ninety-minute bike rides throughout the nearby roads and bike paths.

August first also served as a turning point in other ways. It started in the morning. Matt had a set of weights he used down in the basement. Matt was very athletic. He played football every fall and soccer every spring. I looked at him critically one day and decided the girls in high school were going to love him. I wondered whether he’d be good to them.

Matt’s habit was to exercise every morning immediately after getting up before showering and having breakfast. On August first, I woke early and got dressed, then stayed in my room waiting until I heard his footsteps down the stairs. I followed him into the basement.

“Hey, Shane,” he said, when I appeared in the basement. He was in the process of changing the weights on his barbell poised over his workout bench. He looked unsure what I was doing, intruding on his domain.

“Hey, Matt,” I said, nonchalantly. I walked over and stood on the opposite side of the bench from him, then mirrored to the weights on my side what he was doing on his side. He didn’t say anything, but he checked my work when he was done with his side and grunted once, I guess in approval, before laying down and lifting the barbell off its posts. He did a set of reps while I stood out of the way, watching. He finished the set, replaced the barbell on its posts, then sat up and spun to sit sideways on the bench, looking at me.

“Did you want something?” he asked.

“Yeah. I was wondering if you’d like a spotter.”

“Really?” His voice didn’t contain any derision but there was a lot of doubt. “Okay, come spot me.”

He laid himself back down then waited until I was in position behind his head. He lifted the bar, settled it over his chest then grunted, “Lift it back into place.”

I tried. The bar didn’t budge so much as an inch but stayed firmly pressed against his chest.

“You’re holding onto it,” I complained.

“I’m not,” he said. As if to demonstrate, he opened his hands on the bar so the bar was resting in the crook between his thumb and palm. It could go up, but not fall any further down. I could see that it was a strain for him to hold it there. “Lift it.”

I tried again, but was still unable to raise the bar. Finally Matt grunted, wrapped his fingers back around in a proper hold, and the two of us together replaced the bar on its pegs.

He turned and looked at me but didn’t say anything. “How much weight is on it?” I asked him finally.

“125 pounds,” he said. “It’s a warm up weight for me, the lightest I go.”

“I can’t spot for you.”

He shook his head. “Shane, what did you really want?”

“I’m flabby.”

“You’re a girl,” he replied with a smirk. Matt and I usually got along, but in school he was in my shadow. I think he liked knowing he was always better at athletics than I would be.

“Matt, I’m serious. Can I work out with you?”

He looked away, and I thought he was going to say no. I was asking to intrude on his space. I never came down to the basement, and you could practically smell the testosterone. Or maybe that was just dirty sweat socks. But then he stood up and moved to his side of the barbell. “Okay,” he said brightly. “We’ll start with bench press. Help me take off the weights.”

So together we took all the weights off the bar, me matching him, until the entire bar looked naked. “Lie down,” he told me.

“There’s no weight on it,” I complained.

“The bar alone is 55 pounds,” he informed me. He reached over and pinched my arms. “It’s a good start for you.”

I was sure he was making a joke, but he gestured at the bench again, so I laid down on it like he had and reached for the bar. Matt moved to the space behind my head. I grabbed the bar directly above my face, but Matt moved my hands apart so they were slightly wider than shoulder width. Then I watched as he loosely grabbed the bar as well.

“Okay, slowly,” he said. “The idea is control. Lift the bar straight up over your chest, then lower it until it just touches.

I lifted the bar. This wasn’t so bad! I dropped my arms to lower the bar, but Matt caught it before it got halfway. “Slowly!” he commanded. “It should take just as long going down as it’s going to take going up. Control, not speed.”

He held the bar until I took the weight from him, then I slowly lowered it until it touched my chest. Then I started to raise it.

Fifty-five pounds was a lot!

I managed to raise it all the way, but I was wobbly. Matt steadied the bar when I wavered too much. When I finally had the bar at the top of my reach, he just said simply. “One. Again. Slowly.”

I lowered the bar, let it touch my chest, and raised it again. “Two,” he said. “Another.”

By the end of “five,” I could tell he was having to help me. At “eight” I was ready to give up, but Matt said firmly, “No, keep going. You have at least one more in you.”

By the time we got to “twelve. You’re done,” I think he was doing all the work. I was panting and my arms were like spaghetti.

Matt let me lie there and breath for a moment while he replaced weights on the bar for himself, then he helped me to sit up. He waved me to a chair while he took his turn on the bench. He did his twelve reps (I counted) and was rock steady the entire time. He sat up and looked at me.

“You should do three sets,” he told me. I was massaging my arms at this point, but they still felt like spaghetti.

“I don’t think I can.”

He nodded. “Sit out once more then while I do another set.” He added one more medium weight to each side of the bar and began another set. He was still rock steady, but I could tell he was finally getting a real workout. He finished his set and was breathing hard, but he immediately got up and took off all the weights.

“Your turn,” he told me.

I nodded meekly and took my spot. This was my idea, after all.

I was able to lift the bar and do a few fairly steady reps without any help from Matt, but by the fourth he was helping me. By the eighth I think he was lifting not just the bar but also my arms as I hung onto the bar.

“That’s enough,” he said.

He helped me to sit up then just waited while I caught my breath. Then he walked across the room and selected two dumbbells and brought them back. He kept what was clearly the heavy one and set the light one on the floor in front of my feet.

“Weight training is all about control,” he said. “I’m going to show you several things you can do with the dumbbells then you’ll do them.” And then he did, explaining each exercise has he did them. When he was done, he set his weights aside and told me to pick up mine. He then directed me through a set of exercises with the small weight.

This was easier, but by the time I’d finished everything he told me to do on both sides, my arms were completely dead.

“All done?” he finally asked me.

I nodded.

“Coming back tomorrow?”

I nodded.

“Okay. Tomorrow we’ll do legs. Friday is a core day.” I had no idea what he was talking about. “Here’s the rule. You can use the weights whenever you want. But leave the barbell alone unless I’m here to spot you.”

“You do it alone,” I replied.

“Yeah, but when I have someone who can spot me, I put on another forty pounds. I have to quit a little short of momentary muscle failure to make sure I won’t drop it on my chest.”

* * *

August the first held another major turning point for me. At lunch I asked Mom if we could go do some clothes shopping. “There are some sales, and I’d like to get a few more outfits that are a little more adult,” I told her. Then I looked at her cautiously. “And maybe some cosmetics.”

Mom continued to putter around the kitchen but said quietly, “You know how your father feels about you wearing make up.”

“I’m almost nineteen and going away to college,” I replied. “I need to start looking more professional. And professional women wear cosmetics to work.”

“College is still school, not work,” she said.

We went back and forth a few times, not fighting, but not agreeing either. Finally she said “We’ll see” which in Mom parlance almost always meant “no, and don’t ask again.” I started wondering about a part time job once I got to school, where I could buy my own make-up without parental interference.

But she took me to the mall. We went through several stores, but neither of us saw anything we liked. We both knew we were still warming up. We finally arrived at our real destination and began to paw through the dresses. I found a skimpy red dress with spaghetti straps and held it up. Mom didn’t even look at it. “Put it back,” she told me firmly.

Twice more she told me to put dresses back without even glancing at them, but then she turned to me with four dresses in her arms. She held the first up in front of me and nodded.

It was horrible! Okay, it wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t at all what I wanted.

“Mom, I have dresses like these. They’re fine for high school. Or church. But I was hoping-“

“I know what you’re hoping for,” she told me. “Go try these on.”

I gave her The Look. At eighteen I had a pretty good Look, but I was still an amateur compared to Mom. She returned The Look in spades then simply pointed to the dressing rooms. I took the dresses and meekly turned where pointed. “Try them on and come out so I can see.”

The dresses were very conservative. I wasn’t looking for conservative. I wanted something fun. Sexy. Something that people would notice. These were fine dresses if one wanted to play the wallflower. I’d been the wallflower in school, and I had no intention of remaining one.

I put on the first dress. It was a blue floral. I left the dressing room so mom could see. She was busy pawing through more dresses, but she looked up as I came out. “Turn around. Slower. Good. Next one, please.”

We repeated the cycle three more times. She sent me back to the dressing room, but knocked on the door while I was still taking the dress off. “Give me those,” she said. “We’ll take the blue and the beige.” I sighed. The two most conservative. Then she slipped into the dressing room with me and handed me several more dresses.

These weren’t remotely conservative!

“We’ll take the blue and the beige to show your father. And we’ll see which of these we like, and you must never ever EVER let him see them.”

“Mom!” I squealed. She had been paying attention. I recognized several of the dresses I had tried to show her plus several more I hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Try these on,” she said, hanging several dresses on one of the hooks on the dressing room wall. “If you like them, pick two. If you need a different size, tell me.” Then she put four black dresses on another hook. “Call me back before you get to these.”

In the end I decided the skimpy red dress was just a little too skimpy. But Mom had found another red dress with just a little more fabric, and it was fabulous. I narrowed my choices down to three dresses and called Mom back. I handed her the ones I had rejected. She noticed the red one I’d decided was too skimpy and smiled one of her “I knew you’d do the right thing,” smiles. “I can’t decide between these three,” I told her. Mom checked the price tags on them and frowned. Finally she said, “The red one for sure.” Then she looked at the other two more thoroughly. She held up the blue one to my body, then the deep purple. I loved the purple one, but it was the most expensive of all the dresses she’d shown me. “The blue one is nice, but you’re going to be going to school dances, and the way the purple one is going to flow when you move will be very striking. So the red and the purple. Okay?”

I started to cry a little, but she just reached out and hugged me. “I’m very proud of you, Shane,” she whispered in my ear. “You’re going to have an amazing future in front of you.” She held me for a moment before stepping away and handing me a tissue. That’s Mom, always prepared.

“Okay, now, let me explain about the Little Black Dress.”

Chapter 3: New Friends

Knightly began classes in mid-September, with incoming freshmen arriving on campus on Wednesday of the previous week for class registration and various orientation events. Dad took off work that day, and the entire family, including Matt, made the forty-five minute drive, arriving just before ten AM. We picked up my orientation packet and dorm room key then went in search of my new home for the next nine months.

Knightly’s main academic buildings and student center are laid out in a rough horseshoe shape around a central park. A stately chapel was placed at the open end of the horseshoe. Outlying from the academic buildings were the student dormitories. Most of the dorms were nestled very closely to the main campus, but growth over the years had led to one dorm, Franklin, being located a couple of minutes' walk further away, down a hill from the main campus and through a small grove of trees. Franklin was connected to the rest of the campus with a paved (and at night, well-lit) path. This would be my residence for my freshman year.

We drove around (which took longer than it would take to walk) and parked at the dorm to unload. Mom and I each carried one small load to my fourth floor room with Matt and Dad carrying the rest. With my things piled possessively on one of the two beds, Mom orchestrated a brief tour of my room and the surrounding floor, finding the kitchen and bathrooms and pointing out where a few other early arriving students had placed note boards on their doors for people to leave notes when they weren’t at home. We all returned to my room and she turned to Dad.

“Gordon, it’s going to be a mess in that small parking lot as more students arrive and want to unload. Do you think you should move the car and walk back?”

“That’s very thoughtful, Beth,” my father agreed. “You’ll be okay here?”

“Of course,” my mother replied. “And I saw a Target on the way into town. Do you think you could run out and see if they have anything that would serve as a note board for Shane’s door? I didn’t think of one while we were getting everything else for her.”

From the look he gave Mom, I think Dad knew she was getting rid of him for a good twenty minutes, but he grinned knowingly at her and said he’d do his best to find one. Mom walked him to the stairs herself, returning a minute or two later. In the meantime, Matt and I started putting some of my stuff away, claiming the left side of what was a symmetrical room.

“Okay,” my mom said in a conspiratorial fashion when she returned. “Let’s get all the clothes put away before your father gets back.” She found the garment bag that held my dresses and skirts and headed to the closet. Matt ignored her but kindly moved suitcases around for me and offered to set up my small boom box on my desk.

One of the suitcases was locked, which I found strange. It didn’t take long to put everything else away. I would make adjustments for weeks, but everything was ship shape and the bed made in just a few minutes. I pointed to the locked suitcase. “I didn’t pack that one,” I said to Mom. “Did we bring it along by mistake?”

Mom smiled and held up a key, then opened the suitcase. Inside were two gym bags. One was brand new and purple. The other was Matt’s old bag. “Hey! What’s that doing here?” he asked.

“Do you two think I’m stupid?” she asked us sternly. Then she grinned. “I assume you intend to maintain your exercise regiment while you’re here, Shane, but I want Matt to go with you the first time to help out.” She pulled a map out of the information packet. “I already found out the weight room is in Andrews Athletic center, which is…” her finger offered over the map. “Right here.” She flipped the map over. “You have time for an hour’s workout, return here to clean up, then meet your father and I at a restaurant located at the corner of 4th and Dodge, right here. Make sure you’re there at noon. Shane, everything in here should fit.” She shoved Matt’s bag in his arms and my new purple one into mine. “Now git or you might encounter your father on your way out.”

Matt and I looked at each other and ran for the door.

* * *

My folks treated me to one last meal with them before I wouldn’t likely see them for several months. Knightly wasn’t all that far from home, but I was there to study and make connections; coming home every weekend wouldn’t satisfy those two goals. The four of us then walked to where Father had parked the car.

Dad hugged me first. There were tears in his eyes, but neither of us acknowledged them. He handed me an envelope. “There’s $500 in here,” he said. “It’s for emergencies.” He looked at me sternly. “Real emergencies. Late night pizza is not an emergency.” Then he hugged me and whispered in my ear, “I’m so proud of you, Shane. I know you’ll study hard and be a good girl.”

He didn’t mention going to church. Maybe that was part of the “good girl” thing.

Then it was Mom’s turn. “Thank you,” I told her when she hugged me. I left it to her to figure out what I meant.

“I’m slipping an envelope into your back pocket,” she told me. “It’s most definitely not for emergencies.”

I hugged her tighter.

When she finally let me go, she had tears in her eyes. I did too. Then I turned to Matt and surprised him by pulling him into a tight hug, too. Matt and I get along as well as any brother and sister do, but this was probably the first time I had hugged him. He stood there like a surprised rag doll for a moment before wrapping his arms around me in return. I gave him an extra strong squeeze before letting him go, just so he knew what it was for, but he stayed gentle with me. “When you’re ready for dating advice from your big sister, you have my number,” I told him quietly.

Mom and Dad each gave me another quick hug before Dad ushered everyone into the car. I watched them drive away, sad for a moment, but happy and excited at the same time.

I was at college! And I had an entire campus to explore and a roommate to meet.

* * *

I took my time returning to my dorm, soaking up the flavor of the campus. It felt so strange. Everything was so familiar but so alien at the same time. I remembered another first day on campus, but I couldn't have told you which campus it had been. And Shane had visited Knightly the previous autumn prior to making her final choice where she wanted to apply first. It was so disconcerting having Shane's memories so clear and my own so fuzzy.

My freshman year roommate was a girl from California named Molly Baird. We had emailed back and forth as soon as Knightly had sent us information about each other. Molly was athletic and especially liked running and tennis. She had long, blonde hair and listened to retro music. Very early in our communications she'd indicated she wasn't going to a private school to be a party animal and she hoped I'd respect her desire to study.

We were to get along fabulously. She became my first and best friend at college, a friendship that has lasted to this day.

I arrived back at my dorm in time to see a girl dragging a heavy suitcase into the room. I caught a glimpse of disheveled hair and a determined expression, then hair and expression disappeared into the room, dragging the suitcase behind them. I followed them into the room.

I watched as the girl saw first my legs over the top of her suitcase, then she stood up and saw the rest of me.

"Molly?"

"Shane?"

We stared at each other for a moment. I'm not sure which of us started it first, but we began squealing at each other like only two teenage girls can.

We hugged, squealed some more, hugged again, and bounced around for a few minutes before calming down. Finally I gestured to the bed and desk I'd claimed.

"I took the left, but if you had your heart set on it, we can switch."

"No, I'm fine knowing I'll always be in the right," she replied without missing a beat.

I groaned theatrically at her pun. She smiled, appearing pleased that I'd offered the customary response to a pun. She bent down to struggle with her suitcase, but I took pity on her, bent down, then picked it up and tossed it on her bed for her.

"Wow!" she said. "You're pretty strong for someone so small."

I didn't say anything but realized I wouldn't have been able to do that just a couple of months ago.

I helped her unpack, oohing over some of her clothes. I showed her some of mine, and she was especially impressed with the purple dress mom had bought for me. She held it up to herself for a moment and sighed. "I don't think I can borrow it," she said sadly for a moment.

We chattered away like old friends until late in the afternoon, when Molly's stomach let itself be known. She blushed before asking, "Where do we go to eat? And what are you wearing for the dance tonight?"

We each grabbed our orientation packets and started digging through the agenda for the week. The dance tonight was a rock band, but there was a square dance on Friday. I decided to save the purple for the square dance but went to my closet and pulled out the little black dress.

"Wow!" said Molly. "You didn't come to look like a wallflower!"

I put the LBD away and pulled out one of the conservative dresses Mom had us buy to show Dad. "I could wear this."

Molly cocked her head, considering. "Definitely better. I'll have far more dance partners if you wear that one."

"Why?"

Molly walked to her closet and pulled out her own black dress. "Because I'll be wearing this, and if the guys have a choice between me in this dress and..." she gestured at me. "Little Miss Muffet there, I think they'll pick me."

I offered a mock scowl at her before laughing.

We put the dresses away and took off for the dining hall.

* * *

The Wednesday dance was fun. Neither Molly nor I lacked for dance partners, but we danced together a few times, too. We had just finished dancing to a rather raucous song when the lead singer said, "It's time to slow it down a little." The band launched into a slow ballad.

I looked at Molly. She looked at me. I'm not sure which of us felt more awkward.

"I need a Coke," she finally said.

* * *

Thursday we spent in placement exams and attending a variety of orientation functions designed to make us fully acquainted with the school.

Friday we registered for classes. I'd spent the last several weeks trying to decide what I was going to do. Shane had already made her decisions in the spring, but I realized something: I wasn't remotely interested in a science major. I was going to get a business degree.

But I was also torn. My true love was writing, and it turns out it had been Shane's, too. Ironically, we both wrote our first story when we were each seven. I remember in my old life writing stories, but I could no longer have told you what any of them had been about or what became of them. Shane also wrote stories and enjoyed the creative writing classes she'd taken in high school.

But who makes a living as a writer? No, definitely, business was the right choice.

Wasn't it?

In the end, I was able to delay any final decisions. Knightly is a liberal arts college. We needed a certain amount of credits spread across a variety of topics. I ended up registering for English literature, math and physics. Molly and I would be in math and physics together, but she was taking a different class to satisfy the writing requirement.

I bought my books right away on Friday and had time to skim the first couple of chapters of each of them prior to dinner. Then it was off to the square dance, which seems kind of corny. But it was fun.

My purple dress was perfect.

* * *

I really enjoyed college. Those first few weeks were so exciting. Shane had good study habits, but I brought over some professional skills from my prior life. One of the tricks I had learned was simple. If I really needed to learn some material, I would dictate it into a tape recorder and play it in my car. Funny, the things I was able to remember. For college, I simply modernized the method and used my iPod.

The math was hard for that. Reading formulae is not like seeing it on the page. But the rest of the material worked much better. When I wasn't actually studying, I was still studying. I even went to bed with the ear buds in. By staying ahead, I was able to stay ahead.

This isn't some sort of magic, of course. I still had to work, harder than I've ever worked before. But it was worth it. Knightly recommends 3 hours of study per class. Not counting time spent listening to my recordings, I aimed to spend 4 hours. I was here to learn.

Of course, part of going away to college is to have a new, adult social life. And Knightly made sure we had ample opportunity to develop those all-important friendships. Molly, of course, was the main cornerstone of my social life that first term of college, but I made several friends -- male and female -- on my dorm floor. And of course there were dances, classes, and other events around campus.

My dad had done a good job dampening dating for me when I lived at home. But away at school, I started to meet boys.

I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to do with them, but it struck me they might be fun to play with.

Chapter 4: In which Shane meets a boy

In and amongst the studying, I still managed to find time to exercise every day. I lifted weights 3 days a week and went running or bike riding the other days. I joined the pickup games of Ultimate Frisbee from time to time, but I wasn't very good, so I only played when folks weren't being too hard-core about it.

There weren't a lot of girls lifting weights in the gym, so you can imagine I stood out amongst the guys there. I wasn't used to the attention, so I found myself blushing a lot. I got teased for it, but it was all good-natured.

I got asked out a few times, too.

I didn't handle it very well the first time. I was in the gym, and this boy named Jason was chatting with me while we were spotting for each other. Jason was tall and took working out very seriously. Whenever I stood next to him, it was like standing next to a mountain. He kept his hands to himself, but once when I tripped, he reached out and grabbed me before I could fall, and his arms were like steel. I didn't know what to make of any of it.

One day in the gym, it was my turn on the bench and I was mid-lift when Jason asked me, "So, would you like to go to a movie with me Friday?"

I almost dropped the bar. It was a good thing Jason was actually paying attention, as he was able to replace the bar for me. I sat up, shocked, looked at my watch, then fled, claiming I'd promised to meet Molly.

I hadn't given him an answer.

I told Molly about it at dinner. I was kicking myself by then. Jason seemed okay. I didn't think I was interested in him, but he deserved to be treated better than I had.

"You're not used to being asked out?" Molly asked? I just shook my head. "Do you want to know what my mother taught me?" I nodded.

"Okay. This has been a good rule for me so far." She paused to take a drink of her milk. "If a guy asks me out, and he seems like a nice guy, and I don't think I have to worry he's going to be a jerk, I say yes. Even if I'm not that interested at first."

"Why?" I asked. "That seems... I dunno. Loose."

Molly laughed. "I'm not sleeping with them. It's just a date. And why? Because everyone deserves a chance. I won't go out with someone I think is a jerk or who seems a little slimy. And I take precautions for my own safety. But if it fits my schedule, and he seems okay, I say yes. I figure I'll have a nice time."

I cocked my head, thinking about it. "But what if you're not, you know, attracted to him?"

She looked at me square in the face. "Okay, think about someone you like, someone you'd like to go out with." She gave me a moment to think about it. "Now, think about going up to him and asking him out?"

"No way!" I said immediately. "I'd be terrified."

"Do you think it's any easier for the guys?"

She let me think about it for a while.

"So," she continued. "If the guy goes through what it takes to ask me out, I say yes. If I like him, I might let him hold my hand or maybe touch my arm, but more than that and he has to keep his hands to himself. And by the end of the date, I decide if I want to go out with him again. If I do, I say something like, I had a really nice time tonight, maybe we can do it again. If I want to just keep it to friends, I say, I had a nice time, but I think we'd be better friends than in a relationship. Either way, I make sure I'm clear."

"Your mom taught you this?"

Molly nodded. "And she taught me how to scream, too, if a guy ever forgets that No means No. And how to kick and scratch."

I laughed. "Okay. So what do I do about Jason?"

* * *

After dinner, I walked over to Jason's dorm. He wasn't in, so I left a note on the bulletin board attached to his door. "I'm sorry. If you're still asking, I'd love to." I left my cell phone number.

We had a nice time that Friday. None of the students at Knightly had cars. It was a small college town and everything we needed to do was in walking distance. Jason met me at my dorm and we walked into town to hit the pizza joint with a movie afterwards. He acted the gentleman, which I appreciated, but when we returned to my dorm, I offered him a handshake.

"I had a nice time, Jason. You're a good guy. But I think I want to stick to work out buddies."

His smile faltered for a moment, but then he nodded and shook my hand. "I had a nice time, too, Shane," he said. "Thanks for going out with me."

Then he turned around and walked away, but I heard him say over his shoulder. "See you at the gym."

* * *

School quickly became a set of habits. Classes Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I did whatever dictation I needed to do after classes or in the evenings. Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday were all study days. Friday and Saturday nights were activity nights. Dates, dances, that sort of thing. Sunday evenings my dorm floor met in the lounge for about 20 minutes, then several of the girls would gather for a couple of hours in one room or another.

My dorm floor was mixed genders and classes. We had both boys and girls ranging from freshmen through seniors.

There were eight or nine girls who got together after the group meetings each week. Sometimes all of us were there, but often it was only four or five of us. The Sunday after my date with Jason, there were six of us meeting in Janice and Kelly's room. Janice and Kelly were seniors and were in a relationship. When I first met them, I was shocked at how openly comfortable they were with each other. I was expecting to be offended by their behavior. But you know? They were both really cool. Kelly always made cookies for the floor meetings, and Janice was the go-to girl when you needed help with your math. Kelly wanted to be an English teacher after graduation. Janice was a chemistry major.

So that Sunday it was Janice, Kelly, Molly, me, plus Erica, a junior, and Sarah, another freshman. We all crammed into the small dorm room. "We're out of cookies," Kelly said, "but we have popcorn!"

We sat around making idle chitchat until the popcorn had finished popping, tantalizing us all with that distinctive odor of buttery, salty goodness. Kelly handed out bowls to each of us then plopped down next to Janice. "So, how was everyone's week?" she asked, popping a kernel into Janice's mouth.

"Shane's was extra exciting," Molly blurted out, smiling from across the circle at me. I think she'd sat on the other side so she'd be out of my reach if I'd decided to hit her. I wasn't a hitter.

But I do throw shoes. Unfortunately, Molly knows how to duck.

I tried to demur, but the girls weren't having any of that, especially when Molly spilled more of the details. "She had a date! And he's a total hunk."

After that, there was no getting out of it. I told them about the date.

"Are you going to see him again?" Janice asked when I was done.

"Just at the gym, I think," I replied. "He's, well. He's a good guy, and I guess he is kind of a hunk-"

That's when Erica chimed in. "I know Jason," she said, "And he's a lot more than just kind of a hunk."

"Okay, he's pretty good. But he's just so big. I felt like I was going to get a sniff neck just looking at him."

Janice and Kelly looked at each other for a moment, communicating with just a look the way couples do after they've known each other long enough. Janice turned back to me and said, "So, just not your type?"

"I guess not," I admitted.

That's when Sarah chimed in, surprising all of us. Sarah is usually pretty quiet. "He sounds like he might be my type," she said quietly.

No one said anything for a moment, but they all looked at me. I couldn't figure out why, but then Erica said, "Shane, if you aren't going to go out with him again, maybe you could introduce him to Sarah."

* * *

Sarah and Jason dated for a few months before going their separate ways. When I asked Sarah about it, she just said, "You know how these things go..." She didn't seem too upset.

As for Jason? He continued to spot me at the gym and we might say "Hi" and chat a little bit when we ran into each other on campus.

* * *

By Halloween, I'd gone on dates with 5 different guys, none of them more than once. I'd turned down three others: one due to scheduling conflicts and two because I didn't trust them. And then Steven asked me out.

Steven and I were in English literature together. He was kind of dorky, but he seemed like a nice guy, so I kept to Molly's advice: everyone deserves a chance.

Steven was a smaller guy, about five-eight and slender. He had softer features and was cute, once he ditched his glasses, which I discovered eventually. More importantly, he was bright and, it turned out, really good at making me laugh.

At the end of our first date, I told him I hoped we could do it again.

At the end of our second date he walked me back to my dorm room. We were standing outside the door. He had been making me laugh the entire evening. I didn't get all gooey in my legs thinking about him the way some girls talk, but still... I enjoyed spending time with him and I decided I wanted him to kiss me. To see what it was like.

So as he was talking, I stepped closer to him. He kept talking. So I stepped very close to him and looked up at him.

He stopped talking and looked down at me.

And he just stood there! I was standing there, waiting for my kiss, and he just stood there!

So I reached a hand up behind his neck, pulled his head down, and I kissed him.

Then I fled into my room.

As first kisses go, it seemed okay.

I got flowers the next day.

On our third date, Steven kissed me. It was a longer kiss than the one I'd instigated. I still fled into my room afterwards.

Our fourth date, however, seemed to be going differently. Steven was still funny, but he seemed nervous, too. Still, we had a nice time. We went to dinner then took a long walk, chatting and softly bumping into each other from time to time. When he tried to hold my hand, I let him. When he tried to pull me closer, I just bumped him quickly and moved away a little bit. Mostly though we just talked and laughed.

I didn't notice where we were going until we were actually standing outside his dorm room.

Conversation stopped.

"What are we doing here?" I asked. Was he about to ask for sex?

"My roommate went home for the weekend," he said. "I thought we could, well, you know."

My voice immediately turned frosty. "We could what?"

He noticed my expression and tone. "Oh, Shane, not that! I just meant we could, only if you want to, you know. Make out for a while."

"Oh!" I said. I thought about it, then I think my look turned mischievous. I stepped very close to him and leaned up to kiss him. "You mean like this?" I asked when we were done.

"Uh huh," he said breathlessly. "Only if you want to."

I leaned him to kiss him again, my hand against his chest, pressing him against his dorm room door. I could feel his heart pounding. I wondered why mine wasn't. Maybe I just needed more time. I pulled away and looked up at him. "How do I know I can trust you? To stop when I decide that's enough?"

He wasn't expecting that answer, and I think his brain was half shut down by the kisses I'd given him, but he still had enough neurons firing to propose playfully, "You could tie my hands behind my back."

"I could, huh?" I said, reaching out and grabbing his wrists in my hands. I wrapped my arms around him, pushing his wrists behind his back, then clasped the cuffs of his shirt with my right hand. While he was a small guy, I wasn't going to be able to wrap my hand around both his wrists, but I could hang onto his cuffs just fine. "Like this?" I asked him.

He looked down at me and gulped. "Uh huh," he said. I kissed him again then released him, pulling away. I looked at him. Still no zing, but I thought about tying his wrists together and playing with him for a while. I decided it would be fun.

"Okay," I said. I was wearing a black scarf, so I pulled it from around my neck. "Turn around."

"What?"

"Turn around so I can tie your wrists together." I did a circle gesture with one finger.

"Seriously? What if someone sees?"

I nodded. "I'll be quick. Turn around." I gestured again.

So he did.

I stepped up to him, sliding one leg between his, rubbing against him a little as I grabbed his wrists and pulled them behind his back. I leaned against him, setting him off balance, and he tilted against the door again. But he didn't struggle.

I used the scarf to tie his wrists. I didn't tie it loosely, either. I wrapped it around several times, then tied it off. I checked to make sure he still had good circulation, but I was pretty sure he wasn't going to wriggle his hands loose. I leaned against him and whispered into his ear. "You look hot like this."

I then reached past him and opened his door, he stumbled in and I followed after him, closing and locking the door. Then I began to advance on him.

He stood there watching me. I pulled his head down into a fierce kiss then thought about what I was really going to do. He'd bluffed, I'd counter-bluffed, he'd accepted, and now I didn't have a clue what to do.

I pulled away again, looking him up and down. "Stand there," I ordered, then proceeded to circle around behind him. He tried to turn to follow me, but I barked, "Straight ahead!" So he turned back.

I stood behind him, looking at him. He was wriggling his hands, trying to get away, but I'd done a good job. I got this image -- it shocked me at first. But I got this image of him, completely naked.

I'd never seen a guy naked, had I?

I had this image of him naked, tied to his bed, squirming.

I shook my head, breaking the spell, then realized my own breathing had sped up.

I grabbed his elbows and pulled him backwards towards one of the beds. I'd never been to his room, but I looked around and decided the right side was his. I pulled him to that bed and then spun him around and pushed him onto it. Off-balance, he fell onto the bed.

I followed him, pushing him back onto the bed when he struggled to get up. I knelt over him and began to kiss him.

He was lying on his hands, and I don't think he was comfortable, but as soon as my lips touched his, he stopped struggling, accepting the kiss. When I finally pulled away, he tried to follow me with his lips. But I was in control and pushed him back again. We were both breathing heavily.

"Is this what you had in mind?" I asked him breathlessly?

"Well, um," he started to say, but I shushed him with two fingers over his lips.

"Something isn't quite right yet," I said, looking him up and down. His eyes got really wide when I started to undo his belt buckle. I unbuckled the belt, then made a big show of slowly removing it from his pants. He didn't say a word, but he licked his lips a few times.

Once the belt was free, I moved down to his feet and took my time removing his shoes and socks, first one shoe, then the other, then each sock, slowly. Steven cooperated completely. Once his feet were bare, I looked at him with a smirk. I picked up the belt and then weighed it in my hands like I was thinking of spanking him with it.

"You wouldn't?" he said, almost daring me.

"I wouldn't what?" I said innocently. Then, before he could react, I wrapped the belt around his ankles, cinching them together. He started to struggle a little once he realized what I was doing, but he wasn't struggling very hard. Token resistance. I made a big show of tightening the belt and buckling it.

"There," I declared. "All trussed up. Much better."

Steven didn't lose any more clothes that night, and other than kicking off my shoes, I didn't either. But I teased him mercilessly for an hour and a half. By the time I was done, he wasn't sure if he should be begging me to stop or not stop. I found most of his ticklish spots. I also found I could make him shiver if I stroked the hairs on his arms or the back of his neck.

Looking back it was all pretty innocent and tame. But at the time, I thought I must be the wildest girl on the campus. For that reason, I felt quite naughty and conflicted. Steven was so worked up, and it was entirely my doing.

I'd never experienced a power trip before.

In the end, of course, I untied his arms, kissed him once more, then gathered my shoes, wrapped my scarf around my neck, and was out of his room before he could finish releasing his ankles from the belt.

"Call me!" I called just before the door closed.

Chapter 5: In which Shane meets a girl

The next day was Sunday, and Steven did indeed call me. "When can I see you again?"

"I have a paper due," I told him. "And besides, I don't see any flowers on my desk." I said the last teasingly, still feeling playful from last night. I paused for a moment, imagining the next few weeks. Casual dating was fun, but I wasn't sure I had room in my schedule for anything too intense. I took a breath. "Steven, let's not get too serious though, okay?"

"Okay, Shane," he said. We chatted for another couple of minutes, but I got rid of him as soon as I could. I wasn't lying about the paper, after all, plus I had both math and physics assignments to look at and more dictation to record.

I did, however, receive a small package in my campus mail on Monday. Three red roses. No note. I smiled anyway. After classes, I cut the stems, found a glass, and made a lovely little arrangement for the corner of my desk. They smelled lovely. I sent Steven a quick text. "They're lovely. Paper due on Friday. You can call after that."

Steven did call on Friday. I thanked him again for the flowers. He asked me if I would go to the Saturday dance with him. I was worried he was going to get clingy, so I told him I'd already promised to go with Molly, but we'd see him there and I wanted several dances with him. "If you're a good dancer, we'll let you walk us home afterwards."

Molly and I arrived after the dance had been going a while. Steven spotted us moments after we stepped in, so I knew he'd been hovering around waiting for us. I liked Steven, but my playfulness the previous weekend may have been a mistake. I just wanted to have fun -- mutual fun, of course -- but I didn't want things to get too serious. I was at Knightly first and foremost for the academics, not to get all wrapped up in a guy. I was going to have to make Steven understand we would be keeping it casual.

He pulled me onto the dance floor right away, which was fine, and I enjoyed dancing with him for a few dances. I remember thinking that he wasn't a very good dancer, but I was also puzzled why I thought that. In a break, I told him, "Steven, I want to get something to drink and then dance with other people, too."

He physically slumped. "I sort of thought we were coming together."

"I know. We can talk about that later. The night is young, Steven, there are plenty of dances, and you should dance with Molly and a bunch of the other girls here."

He was still frowning, but he nodded. I turned to head to the student union cafe to get a soda. Steven started to follow me, but I shoed him off. "Go dance with another girl, Steven. Look, Molly is free." I waved the back of my hands at him, shoeing him off my heels.

After that I worked the room. One boy -- I didn't catch his name -- threw some swing steps at me. Surprising both of us, I kept up. At first it was just the swing six count basic with a couple of turns. "You've done this before," he said to me when I came back to him.

"So have you," I replied.

He threw a push turn at me. I spun out then had time for an extra pirouette. He spun me back for two more pirouettes the opposite direction before we reconnected again.

In the end, we danced three songs together. He was good. I was better.

Where had I learned to swing dance?

Eventually I found myself back with Steven for a slow song. I let him pull me close but made sure he stayed polite. We swayed back and forth for about half the song before Steven whispered into my ear, "I have a surprise to show you back in my dorm room." I couldn't fathom what it might be, but I could tell he was excited. He was all jittery like a little kid on Christmas morning. Maybe that was partly from holding me, but I thought his surprise had more to do with it.

The song finished. Steven tried to kiss me on the dance floor, but I avoided his lips. He pouted briefly, but then tugged on my hand. "The dance is wrapping up, let me show you our surprise."

The dance wasn't really wrapping up, and I was of a mind to keep dancing, but I didn't see my swing partner anywhere and had danced enough with Steven that night. I looked around and spotted Molly. "Let me just tell her I'm leaving so she won't be looking for me."

Steven refused to release my hand, so I dragged him behind me to where Molly was standing talking to Erica from our dorm floor. "Steven has something he wants to show me," I told her. "I'll see you back at the dorm."

"Be good," she said with a giggle. I gave her The Look, but she just giggled some more. I really needed to work on The Look.

I decided it was easier to let Steven keep my hand than to make a scene about it, so we walked back to his dorm holding hands. He nattered on about something, but I wasn't really paying attention.

"Kevin won't be back for a couple of hours," he told me. "We have the room to ourselves."

"Look, Steven," I started to say as he opened the door. "Last weekend was fun-"

"I know, wasn't it?" he said, smiling wider than a used car salesman. He pulled me into the room then closed and locked the door.

He pulled me over to his bed and told me to sit down. Once I was seated, he went to his dresser, pulled something out, but hid it behind his back when he turned to face me. He came over to stand in front of me.

"Hold out your hands," he ordered. I thought he was going to put something in them, so I complied, cupping my hands so I wouldn't drop whatever he was giving me.

"I had so much fun last weekend," he started to explain, "so I thought this weekend would be your turn." And with that, he brought out the rope he had been hiding and started to wrap it around my wrists.

I was almost too surprised to respond, so he actually got one wrap of the rope around my wrists before I jerked them away. "That's not going to happen," I told him firmly, starting to stand up. "Look Steven-"

He put a hand out on my shoulder and pushed me back onto the bed.

"Come on, give me your wrists," he said coaxingly. "It'll be fun."

I looked at him for a moment. He was serious. He was smiling this huge smile and holding the rope, waiting for me to capitulate. My initial reaction was "no way", but I decided to actually think about it. I thought about letting him tie me up. I thought about being helpless, of letting him do the sorts of things to me I had done to him last weekend. I thought about it and decided I wasn't going to let him or any other boy do that to me. I wasn't at all interested in that.

So I looked him square in the eye and told him quite simply, "No."

His smile started to fade.

"Get out of my way," I said, getting up and pushing him aside.

"But we had so much fun," he told me. "You had fun. I had fun. This would be fun."

"Yes, Steven, we had fun," I agreed. "But I'm sorry, it was a one time thing. I've been trying to tell you, but I don't think I've been very clear. I came to Knightly for an education. Casual dating is nice, but I don't want to get wrapped up in a serious relationship right from the beginning. And this-" I gestured to the rope still in his hands. "-Definitely qualifies as a serious relationship. I'm sorry, but I can't give you the sort of relationship you're looking for. You need to find another girl."

By now he looked like a wilted flower. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Steven, this was never supposed to be more than casual. It's not breaking up when we were barely together in the first place. But if it helps you to think of it that way, then yes, I'm breaking up with you. I'm sorry, but we want different things. You need someone else."

He looked away then looked back at me. The evening's evidence to the side, Steven was a good guy. He was just young, still learning, still making mistakes. He deserved me being nice to him, at least as long as he realized that No means No.

"I could do casual," he said. "We don't need the rope."

"Steven," I said. "It's not the rope. And you don't want casual. This campus is full of smart girls who are going to appreciate a smart guy like you, and you need to find one who wants the same type of relationship you want. That's just not me."

He looked down.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually.

"I am too. I didn't handle this very well. I'm still learning my way."

I turned to go, then turned around. "Steven, if you want some advice. Don't show any girls the rope, at least not until you know them a lot better than you know me. It'll freak them out."

"Why? It's just for fun. I loved it when you tied me up."

"I know, but what's the worst I was likely to do to you?"

He thought about it then shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe drawn something on my face?"

"Right. Embarrassing until you get it washed off, but no real harm, right?"

"I guess," he said.

"And what's the worst thing that you could do to a girl once you have her tied up?" I looked at him quite pointedly.

He didn't get what I meant at first, but eventually he figured it out. "But I wouldn't! It's just for fun!"

"How is she supposed to know that, Steven?" I asked quietly.

As I slipped out of his room, closing the door behind me, I left him looking at me forlornly.

* * *

Sunday evening after the dorm floor meeting found us back in Janice and Kelly's room. Kelly had made snicker doodles this weekend. Present were Janice, Kelly, Erica, Molly and I. We sat around teasing each other and eating cookies before Kelly asked, "So, who has something juicy to share?"

Molly chimed right in. "Shane does!"

I groaned and hid my face. "Molly, I told you about that in confidence!"

"Oh, come on," said Kelly. "It's just us girls."

"Besides," said Janice. "What happens in Janice and Kelly's room-"

"Stays in Janice and Kelly's room!" Janice and Kelly said together, laughing.

I just continued to hide my face, hoping it would all go away, but Kelly started pulling my hands away. "Come on, you know you'll feel better once you've told us."

"Have another of Kelly's cookies," said Janice, holding out the plate.

"Plying me with sugar won't get my secrets!" I claimed dramatically. I took two more cookies while everyone laughed.

"Okay, fine!" I said after eating the first one. "I've been casually seeing a guy, but he got a little too serious, so I broke up with him. The end." I bit into the second cookie.

Janice, Kelly and Erica all looked at Molly to see if that was the entire story. She shook her head, and all four faces turned back to me. "Tell them about last Saturday, Shane," Molly said.

I looked at her coldly. "I'm going to get you," I said. "When you least expect it, expect it!"

I received four droll looks, so I knew my threat wasn't intimidating anyone. "Okay, fine, it was no big deal, but I kind of tied him up last Saturday."

"What?" said Erica.

"Little Miss Muffet has a wild side!" crowed Janice.

I glared at Molly again. She made an "it wasn't me" gesture.

"Let me get this straight," said Erica. "You were seeing him casually, but you tied him up. And you say he was getting too serious?"

"It's not like we were naked!" I said. "I just teased him for a while."

Molly was laughing quietly. Janice was bouncing around with glee. Erica looked shocked. But Kelly just looked thoughtful. "Did you have fun?" she asked.

"Well, I guess," I said. I thought about it then said wistfully, "It was really sort of a trip, actually, knowing I could do whatever I wanted to him and he couldn't have stopped me." I paused. "But I just tickled him a lot and kissed him enough to keep him well teased."

"Did he have fun?" Kelly asked.

"Did he have fun?" I repeated after her. "Oh, I'll say. You know what he did?" I didn't wait for anyone to respond. "He went out and bought some rope. And then he invited me back to his room against last night."

"He didn't!" said Kelly.

"Oh yes, he did. And he said it was my turn."

"Oh my god!" said Erica. "He's totally a stalker."

"It wasn't like that," I said. "He wasn't stalking me or getting all creepy. He's really a decent guy. He just thought that he'd had so much fun, that I would too. When I told him No, he stopped."

By this time Janice had calmed down. "So you didn't let him tie you up?" I shook my head. "Why not? Were you afraid he'd go too far?"

"The thought crossed my mind, but no. I think he'd have done to me what I had done to him, more or less. I just..." I tried to find the words. "I guess I just didn't want some guy to have that kind of power of me. It was fun when I had the power, but I couldn't see letting a guy do that to me."

"Some girls like getting tied up," Kelly said. "It's a pretty common fantasy."

At this point, Janice stood up then walked over to her desk and pulled something out from her desk drawer. I couldn't see what it was as she kept it hidden from me, but Kelly saw it and put on an odd grin.

"You enjoyed tying a guy up," Janice said. "But you won't let a guy tie you up. How are you going to know what it feels like?"

Janice came over and sat next to me, staring into my eyes. She had pretty eyes, and I stared back.

That's when she slowly brought her hand from behind her back. In her hand was a big roll of duct tape.

"Molly won't let anyone hurt you," Janice said quietly. "And it's just us girls."

I started to crab walk backwards away from her but quickly bumped into Kelly, who had moved in behind me while I'd been distracted by Janice. Kelly clasped me by the arms while Janice moved closer. I looked over my shoulder at Kelly. She was looking at me intently, but she was smiling softly, too. I had the feeling she knew what I was thinking.

Which would have made one of us.

I looked over at Molly. She had grown quiet and was just waiting, waiting to see what I would do, I guess. I gave her a questioning look, wondering if this was okay. She cocked her head for a moment, then looked straight at me and nodded her head once.

This was all her fault, and I wasn't sure why I was asking her opinion, but I guess I trusted her.

I looked over at Erica, but she just looked confused and wide eyed, not at all sure what was really going on.

Then I looked at Janice. She was crowding me, but not touching me yet. She was letting me decide.

"You won't hurt me?" I asked quietly.

"Of course not," Janice said gently. Then she slowly reached out, clasped my right hand, and pulled it out to point straight in front of me. Kelly continued to hold both my arms, my left pressed lightly to my side, and she was leaning against my back slightly. I could feel her warmth through the back of my white blouse.

I meekly held my right arm straight out while Janice plucked at the roll of tape. She freed the end then wrapped the tape twice around the sleeve of my blouse at my wrist. She then moved my hand down to my side and started wrapping the tape around my body, first around my back, around my left wrist, then around my front and back to my right wrist. She had to lean very close to me as she was passing the tape from one hand to the other behind my back. Her hair smelled lovely.

She continued to wrap me up with the tape, eventually wrapping it around me 5 or 6 times. I was completely wrapped in tape from my wrists to my elbows with my arms pressed tightly against my sides. I could wriggle my fingers but that was about all.

Every time she passed the tape around behind my back, she learned into me as if she was hugging me. I felt her breath on my neck, I could smell her hair, and I could feel her body pressed against mine. She took her time, working slowly, and every time she pulled away from me, she watched my eyes, smiling a small smile.

I looked over at Molly, wondering if she would be laughing, but she was watching quietly, not saying anything. I couldn't read her body language.

Erica finally started to get into it. "Don't forget her legs!" she said in encouragement.

"Don't worry," said Janice without breaking eye contact with me. "I won't forget anything."

Once my arms were wrapped to her satisfaction, Janice tore the tape and pressed the end firmly to me. She gave my arms a playful tug, finding them well secured. Then she began to move away from me, down to where my legs were stretched out in front of me. One hand slid along my leg as she did so.

She took one foot and wrapped the tape around my ankle on the outside of my jeans. She then pressed both legs together, side-by-side, and began wrapping my legs with the tape. She started with the ankles but eventually lifted both my legs and set them on her shoulder, tipping me back until I was leaning against Kelly. Kelly held me comfortably while Janice wrapped my legs around and around until she had covered them to well above the knees. Then she gently set my legs back on the floor, set the tape aside, and admired her handiwork.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

At this point, Molly had moved back so she was leaning against one of the beds. Erica was sitting on her haunches not far from Molly's feet. I was leaning with Kelly behind me, my body rotated so my feet faced left of Molly. Janice was kneeling at my feet, gazing at me. Then she looked past me and exchanged a wordless look with Kelly.

Kelly leaned her head to my left ear, the one facing away from Molly and Erica. She whispered quietly into my ear, "Are you okay?"

Her breath tickled.

My heart was pounding, but I wasn't scared. I nodded. Then I looked over my shoulder at her. She leaned back slightly, so our faces were just a few inches apart. I smiled for her, just a quick smile, then turned back, wondering what Janice was going to do next.

I wasn't wearing shoes, but I had a pair of socks on. Janice grasped one of my feet and started pulling the sock off. "This would have been easier if I'd done this before I taped you up," she said after a moment, laughing. By the time she got the sock off, I was already starting to squirm.

I have very ticklish feet.

She began to work on the other sock.

Erica finally woke from her dazed stupor. "Picture time!" she declared, pulling out her phone.

"No." said Molly firmly.

Erica was ignoring her but was messing with her phone, trying to find the camera app.

"Put it away," Molly said.

"I want a picture! This is fun!" said Erica.

"Erica," Molly said. "What happens in Janice and Kelly's room-"

"Stays in Janice and Kelly's room!" we all said, the rest of us laughing. Molly remained serious.

"Spoilsport," Erica finally said, putting her phone away. Nodding, Molly settled back.

Janice finally got my second sock off and was examining my feet. I assumed she was going to start tickling them, and I tried backing up into Kelly, but Kelly just held me where I was.

"Your toes are naked," Janice said. She got up and went to her dresser. While Janice was away, Erica moved closer. She reached out and ran a fingernail up the bottom of my right foot.

I jerked away and squealed. Kelly held me in place, so I couldn't go far, but I managed to move my feet away from Erica's outstretched hands.

Erica grinned at me, but she moved aside as Janice returned with several bottles of nail polish.

"Let's see," she said, examining bottles, one after another. "We have Passion Pink. Such a lovely color." She set the bottle next to her and picked up the next. "Ah, a lovely shade of violet called DS Temptation. Very fitting, I think." She set that bottle down next to the pink.  "This one is black onyx. Here we have chick flick cherry. And ..." she sorted through the remaining bottles. A blue called DS Magic. These will be perfect." She had sorted the bottles into two sets. "Feet, please," she said, looking at me.

I moved my feet back where she could reach them. She pulled them closer then selected the blue polish. She leaned over my feet and carefully painted the nails of each of my big toes. She capped the bottle and examined her handwork before looking at me. "Those have to dry before we move onto the next toe," she said. "Wave them around a little so they dry faster."

I tried waving my toes, but with the way my legs were so completely taped together, I didn't have any mobility.

"You call that waving your toes?" Janice asked. "Here, let me help." And with that she reached out and began mercilessly tickling my feet.

I jumped. I squirmed. I squealed. In between all that, I begged her to stop. But Kelly just held me while Janice tickled my feet. I looked over at Molly for help, but she was sitting back, watching, with a huge grin on her face. The tickling went on for what seemed like an eternity, but I'm sure was only a minute or two.

Finally Janice stopped tickling. Instead, she just held my feet still. As I calmed down and got my breathing back under control, I noticed how nice her hands felt. She was just gently massaging my feet, and it helped me to calm down.

She leaned over, blew on my toes for a moment, then selected the next bottle. "Passion Pink now," she said. She carefully painted the second toe on each foot, capped the bottle, set it aside, then looked at me. "I'm sure you know the drill," she said.

"Oh god, no," I told her. "Please, Janice..."

She grinned and started tickling.

I screeched and tried to pull away, so she grabbed my legs, pulled them out straight, then spun around and sat on them, her back towards me so she was facing my feet. "Ah, ah, ah," she said. "The polish has to dry." She began tickling again.

I bucked. I squirmed. I screeched. I begged.

"She's very loud," Kelly said.

"What's that?" asked Janice. "I can't hear you over Shane's screaming." She stopped tickling and looked over her shoulder at Kelly.

"Please stop," I said. Janice ignored me.

"She's very loud," Kelly said again. "Someone might be studying."

"Hmm." Janice said, considering.

Kelly whispered into my ear so no else could hear. "Still okay?"

I cocked my head so she knew I had heard her. By asking me if I was okay, Kelly was giving me an out. While I was helpless, I felt safe with her arms wrapped around me. I nodded. Kelly quietly kissed my ear.

I felt my emotions explode.

Janice watched the entire exchange. She smiled at us, then said, "I know just the thing."

She stood up, releasing my legs, and walked to her closet. She came back with the belt from her bathrobe. She took three steps until she was standing over me, one foot on either side of my legs, and dropped the belt in my lap. I watched it fall, then looked back at her, wondering what she was going to do. She waited until she was sure she had my attention, then leaned down and reached underneath her skirt. She wriggled a little bit then slowly removed her undies, maintaining eye contact with me the entire time.

Holding her undies in one hand, she knelt down, straddling my legs, sitting on my knees.

"Open your mouth," she ordered.

I clamped my mouth shut!

In response, Janice reached up and grasped my hair in her hand, holding my head still. "Open," she said again, holding the panties a few inches from my tightly closed lips.

I shook my head no, as much as I could with her holding my hair so tightly.

"Open up," she said, "Or I'll go get a magic marker and draw a tattoo on your face."

"You wouldn't," I said through gritted teeth. "What happens..." I clamped my lips back together.

"Oh honey," Janice said. "There are exceptions to every rule."

Kelly's breath tickled my ear. She spoke quietly, as if she was speaking just to me, but loudly enough I knew Erica and Molly could hear her, too. "She never bluffs, Shane. I found out the hard way our freshman year. She threatened me with a face tattoo, and when I called her bluff, I spent a week with a Hello Kitty drawing on my cheek."

I looked over my shoulder at her, Janice easing her hold in my hair to allow me to turn my head. Kelly was wearing a serious expression and was nodding at me. I whimpered a little. Janice gently but insistently used my hair to turn me back to face her.

"Last chance," she said. "Open." Janice used her index finger to press gently down on my lower lip, helping to urge me to open my mouth.

I slowly opened.

"Play nice," Kelly quietly whispered in my ear. "No biting."

Janice tilted my head up a little then slowly began filling my mouth with her undies. I could smell her scent and then taste her for a moment. Janice poked the last of the undies into my mouth with her finger then used her thumb on my chin to gently close my mouth with my lips wrapped around her finger. We stayed that way for just a moment before she slowly removed her finger from my mouth. Janice looked down, clasped the bathrobe belt, then wrapped it around my head, sliding between my lips and teeth, then wrapped it around again. She pulled it taut enough to serve as a gag but not so tight as to be uncomfortable. She tied a knot, then sat back on my legs.

"You're safe here," Kelly whispered to me. I settled into her arms just a little bit more to let her know I trusted her. She gave me a soft squeeze, too subtle for anyone else to notice.

Janice reached out and grasped my chin with her hand and used it to turn my face to one side, then the other. She smiled at me and caressed my cheek with her fingers as she pulled away. Somehow I got the impression she was trying to tell me something, but I didn't know what it was.

Janice scooched backwards past my feet then looked down at them. "Oh, they're dry." She turned to the remaining three bottles of polish. "Time for the DS Temptation." She selected the bottle of violet polish and painted the middle toe of each foot, finishing each toe with a dramatic touch. She capped the bottle and examined her work. "Very pretty," she declared.

She looked at me.

"I bet you think I'm going to tickle you feet again, don't you?"

I nodded, wide eyed, and tried to shrink back further into Kelly. Kelly bumped me once, pushing me back the three inches I'd managed to retreat.

"Well, I'm not." Janice said. "That would be too predictable."

She crawled forward over my legs then sat on my knees again.

"No, I'm not going to tickle your feet. Erica is."

I started squealing even before Erica finished scrambling to my feet and dug her fingers in. I immediately tried to buck Janice off my legs, but she simple settled in further, and my efforts were ineffective.

There was a world of difference between how Janice had been tickling my feet and how Erica was doing it. Janice had run her fingernails over the bottoms of my feet, not softly, which might have felt nice, but not painfully hard, either. She had used her nails to explore the entire bottoms of my feet and toes. It had tickled immensely, but there was something sensuous about it at the same time.

Erica, however, dug her fingers into the meaty part of my feet and pressed her nails painfully into my skin. It tickled but it hurt at the same time.

I squealed and tried to say "ouch" a bunch of times. In movies it always seems like gagging someone means they can barely make a sound. In reality, that's not how it is at all. I was making quite a lot of noise, but it was muffled. Someone passing through the corridor outside the room might hear me, but the sounds wouldn't have been obvious as a cry for help. Inside it was a different story.

Janice looked at my apologetically. She let Erica continue to abuse my feet, but not for anywhere near as long as Janice herself had tickled them.

"Erica, you better stop," she said eventually. "We don't want her to wet herself."

"Ewww," Erica said, sitting back. She was flushed and looked pleased with herself. "I guess we'd better let her catch her breath." She pulled away but stayed closer to me than she had been previously. I knew she was waiting for a chance to torment me further.

Janice grabbed the red polish for my fourth toes. "Almost done," she said as she capped the bottle. Janice looked at me again, then put on a more mischievous smile than I'd seen yet. She crawled up to me until I faces were just a few inches part. "I'm going to do something a little different now," she said. "And if you try to pull away, even a little tiny bit, I'm going to..."

She leaned over me and whispered very quietly into my ear, "If you pull away, I'm going to let Erica do whatever she wants to your feet."

She leaned back so she was staring into my eyes again. I whimpered a little. Then she slowly crawled backwards slightly before standing up and going to her dresser again. She came back with her makeup brushes. She sat down on the floor at my feet, caught my eyes for a moment, smiled, then clasping my heels with her left hand, she started gently brushing my feet with one of the brushes, stroking the bottoms, the sides, the tops.

It felt nice, sensual. Sometimes it tickled a little, but it was a nice tickle. I could feel the nerve endings in my feet waking up. When Janice used the brush between my toes, it really tickled. I squirmed in Kelly's arms, but I didn't pull my feet away. I watched Janice for a while, but then just surrendered to what she was doing. I closed my eyes.

I could feel Kelly's arms around me, feel her heat against my back.

I could feel my own heart beating, and my breathing was shallow and rapid.

I felt Janice's warm hand on my feet and the hairs of the brush gently caressing my skin.

Then Janice shifted slightly, but continued to hold my heels while brushing my feet. I felt her breath against my feet as she blew on my toes to dry the polish.

I continued to squirm in Kelly's arms, whimpering a little.

"They're dry now," Janice said eventually. She stopped brushing my feet. When I opened my eyes she was looking at me. I hadn't wanted her to stop. "One more pair of toes. The smallest toes. They'll be black. A rather naughty color." She cocked her head, looking at me. "Sometimes it's the small things that are surprisingly the naughtiest."

She moved towards my left then held the polish bottle out to Erica. "Would you do the final honors, Erica?"

Erica grinned, moved to my feet, and began applying the polish. It just took a couple of strokes per toe, and Erica didn't spend any extra effort the way Janice had on the other toes. She handed the bottle to Janice, and Janice stood up and placed all the bottles back on her dresser.

"Do I get to tickle her again?" Erica asked excitedly.

"Yes," said Janice, "But I think we should make it a special challenge for both of you."

Betrayed! I gave Janice The Look. I'd behaved when she'd used the brushes on my feet, but she was still going to let Erica torment my feet.

Janice stepped back to me and then lowered herself so she was sitting on my knees facing me.

"Erica, what I want you to do is see how gently you can tickle her feet. Really make her squirm, but be as soft and gentle as you can. Make sure you vary what you do to find out what's most ticklish."

I felt Erica being to touch my feet. At first she barely touched them, and it just felt nice. But she ran a finger up the bottom of one foot from heel to toes and I jumped. Erica giggled.

At that point, Janice picked up one of her cosmetic brushes and began brushing the exposed skin of my neck and face.

"It's easy to make someone squirm when you are rough with her," Janice said while brushing my face. "But it's far more fun to make her squirm when you're being gentle." She brushed across my eyes, forcing me to close them. Then she brushed an ear, and I opened my eyes. Janice promptly rapped the top of my head with the handle of her brush.

"Ouch!" I said through the gag.

In response, Janice brushed my eyes again, and I closed them.

She brushed my hand, and I opened my eyes.

She was waiting for me and rapped the top of my head again. Then she brushed my eyes. I closed them and kept them closed.

In the meantime, Erica had figured out how to make me squirm without hurting me. I was wriggling my feet trying to escape her attention, but between Kelly holding me and Janice sitting on my legs, I wasn't going anywhere.

Then Janice unbuttoned the top button of my blouse, and my eyes flew open. She waved her finger back and forth in front of me in a No gesture, but she didn't rap me with the brush handle. She cocked her head for a moment, eyeing me, then held up two fingers for a moment before unbuttoning a second button.

"It's just two buttons," Kelly whispered into my ear. "Your modesty is intact."

With two buttons undone, I knew my cleavage was just barely peeking out of the top of the blouse. Kelly was right. Janice went back to brushing me again, paying slow attention to the small amount of extra skin she had exposed. She let me watch her, but then brushed my eyes again. I closed them and didn't open them again.

Erica continued to tickle my feet. Every time she got an especially violent squirm or jerk, she giggled. Janice gently brushed my skin, which felt wonderful. I didn't protest when the brush slipped down between my breasts for a moment, but then Janice withdrew it and used it to tickle my ear. When I tried to pull away, she held me by my hair and giggled at me, tickling my ear with the brush.

Eventually I think I just gave up all resistance and just melted into what they were doing. Janice's brush varied in what it was doing, lightly caressing my face, tickling my lips, or exploring briefly inside my blouse. Erica's hands got lighter and lighter on my feet, and I'd be squirming for some time, but even the squirming settled down.

"She's not squirming anymore," Erica complained.

Kelly whispered into my ear, "It feels good to surrender, doesn't it?"

Janice kept brushing me with her brush for a while longer, but Erica got bored. She tried digging her nails into my feet a few times, but I barely reacted. I felt her move away. Janice kept brushing my face for a while longer, the touches growing more fleeting.

Molly finally spoke for the first time since saying "No" to the photographs. "She has more studying tonight."

Janice's brush tickled the end of my nose. I wrinkled my nose at her. She did it again, and I wrinkled again. When she did it a third time I opened my eyes to look at her, wondering what she wanted. She just looked into my eyes for a moment, smiling softly at me. Then she nodded once and got up off my knees. She went to her dresser and put the brushes away.

"I suppose we should cut that tape off her," she said. "I have a pair of scissors somewhere."

"No," said Molly. "I'll do it back in our room. Just plunk her into a rolling chair and I'll wheel her home."

Janice grinned at her. "Okay," she agreed.

Molly got up off the floor and walked over to me. Janice joined her, and the two of them reached down and between the two of them, helped me to my feet. Kelly grabbed one of their chairs and slid it behind me, and they slipped me into it.

I started complaining through the gag. Our room was down the hall from Janice and Kelly's, and someone might see me as Molly wheeled me down the hallway.

"Don't worry," Kelly said. "I'll make sure the coast is clear."

So that's what she did. She stepped out of the room, then called, "All clear" after a moment. Janice held the door and Molly rolled me backwards out of the room. Kelly went in front of her and Janice watched our back, but no one appeared in the hallway while I was being toted to my own room. Molly opened the door, pulled me inside, then closed and locked the door. She rolled me to the middle of the room then spun me around.

She fished in her desk for a moment, finally brandishing a pair of scissors. She walked over in front of me, then knelt down so we were at the same eye level.

"Before I cut you loose, I want to say something."

I nodded.

"I like Janice and Kelly," she said. "They're good people."

I nodded, agreeing with her.

"If they had tried to hurt you or publicly embarrass you, I would have stopped them."

I knew she would have, and I nodded again.

"And I like you." She said. "You're smart, you're funny, and you're really easy to be around. I can't imagine anyone I'd rather have as a roommate or friend."

No one had ever said something like that to me before.

"I know you're still trying to figure out what sort of person you are."

If only she knew.

"And if you want to talk to me about any of it, I'm a good listener." She paused. "But. While you're figuring out who you are, you better stay smart, funny, easy to be around, and a great friend."

I tried to laugh through the gag then noticed her serious expression as she looked at me. I grew quiet, then nodded just once.

"Also," she added. "I want you to remember something. I like boys. Okay?"

She liked boys? Okay, of course she liked boys. I just looked at her, not sure what she was trying to tell me. I shrugged as best I could.

"Just remember that, okay? I like boys."

I cocked my head. She must mean something else. That was too obvious. But eventually I just nodded.

She didn't say anything else but just bent to the task of freeing me from all the tape. She worked carefully, cutting the tape first along the front of one arm, then the front of the other. She helped me stand up and steadied me, then cut the tape along the back of each arm. Then she did the same thing on the tape binding my legs, cutting first the front then the back. While she did that, I started untying the gag. I dropped the bathrobe belt on the floor then spit out Janice's panties. They were gross! All wet from my saliva. I held them gingerly by two fingers before dropping them on the floor, too.

Molly and I then began pulling the tape off my clothes. I wasn't sure if the blouse was ruined. We gathered the used tape and threw it in a trashcan.

"What are you going to do with those?" she asked, gesturing to the bathrobe pelt and panties.

"Return them, I guess," I said. "I suppose I should wash them first."

And so with that, I gathered my own laundry and stuffed Janice's things in with it. While I set off to the laundry room, Molly returned their chair.

Neither of us talked about it again. But that night, as I was trying to go to sleep, I kept seeing Janice in front of me, her eyes flashing at me as she taped my arms to my sides. I kept feeling Kelly's arms around me.

I understood how Steven must have felt the weekend before and mentally forgave him for going overboard.

I tried to imagine letting Steven tape me up the way Janice had, but my thoughts just kept returning to Janice and Kelly and nail polish and cosmetic brushes.

I wondered why Molly was so adamant I understood she liked boys.

I thought of Janice and Kelly and wondered if they'd do that to me again.

It all clicked, eventually. I was too close to see it. Molly thought I was gay! But I dated boys. I liked boys, too.

I kept going around in circles on it. Then I started wondering what Shane had been so unhappy about that she was going to let a train run her over.

Was Shane gay? Was that it?

I thought about Steven and the other guys I knew. I thought about kissing them, about being with them. And it sounded fun, but it didn't get my heart racing.

I thought about Janice and Kelly. I thought about how my heart had raced. I thought about how good it felt just to let Kelly hold me, how warm her breath felt on my neck and in my ear. I thought about, well, all of it.

Oh my god. I was gay.

Okay, this wasn't so bad. So I liked girls. The world is filled with girls. I could deal with this. I could enjoy this, even.

So why had Shane let the train run her over?

I thought about my parents. I thought about my mom teaching me about little black dresses. I thought about her buying me two conservative dresses to show Dad.

Oh my god. My dad was going to kill me when he found out.

Chapter 6: Turmoil

October had turned into November, and the end of the term was approaching. My self-revelations served as a distraction from my studies, but I knuckled down and kept to my schedule. I turned down all date requests, begging off due to my study workload, but the reality was I no longer knew what I wanted.

Sunday evening in Janice and Kelly's room was a little strained for me the following week, but no one said anything. If I was acting oddly, no one appeared to notice. By the following week, things were back to normal, although every time I look at either Janice or Kelly, I wondered what it would be like if one of them kissed me.

The term ended. I was pleased with my grades. By Thanksgiving, all the students at Knightly packed our bags and headed home. We wouldn't see each other again until the new year. My parents picked me up on Wednesday afternoon, the day before Thanksgiving.

It was great to see everyone. Even though it was so close, I hadn't gone home at all during the term. I had a great Thanksgiving with my family. I was conflicted internally but pushed the conflicts aside. When anyone asked me, "Did you meet any guys," I responded, "Yes, I went on dates with several nice guys, but I'm there to study, so I kept things very casual with all of them."

December was a busy month. Christmas was coming, of course, so there were all the expected preparations for that. Plus I had purchased my textbooks for second term classes and brought them home; I had an entire month to get ahead of my studies.

And of course, Matt and I went back to our workout routine. He talked to me about the difference between body building and toning. "Are you planning on becoming one of those muscle-bound women, Shane?" When I shook my head, he then said, "Well, time to make some changes, because you're looking pretty good." It felt really weird to have my little brother say that, but it was nice to know I'd accomplished my goals and now could switch to what Matt called a toning maintenance plan.

But through all this, I couldn't stop thinking about what I should do. I wanted to talk to Mom, but I just couldn't She might be okay with it, I wasn't sure. Dad would disown me. This was too big a secret to ask her to keep.

To some extent, I was still in denial. I kept giving myself little gay tests. I'd think about being with some hot guy. Then I'd think about being with a girl. And the girl won, every time.

But that wasn't all. I thought about what I wanted to do with the girl. And I couldn't stop thinking about Janice taping me up. I couldn't stop thinking about being helpless while she tickled me. I couldn't stop wondering about what she might do to me if she and I were in a relationship.

Oh, I wasn't going to throw myself at Janice. She and Kelly had a great relationship, and I didn't think they were looking to make it a threesome. Taping me up had just been a little harmless fun, not an invitation.

I spent much of December flip-flopping between acceptance and denial. What if this was just a phase? What if I just hadn't met the right guy? Maybe I just had a bad attitude. I bought several romance novels and forced myself to read them. The stories were okay, but the sex scenes were boring. I did what I imagine every woman does when she reads those: I imagined myself as the heroine. And when I thought about what the hero does to the heroine, I felt... nothing. But then I read one where the hero is an anti-hero and kidnaps the heroine. He was, of course, a terrible cad, but a stunningly attractive cad, and of course, the heroine ends up falling completely in love with him. I thought about being her and all I could think about was slipping a knife between his ribs. But then I found myself thinking of the kidnapper as a woman, kidnapping me, and everything was different.

Not only was I gay, but I seemed to be kinky as well. How could I be gay and kinky besides? I was still a virgin, for crying out loud.

I needed to talk to someone, but I was going to have to wait until school resumed in January.

* * *

And so Christmas came, and Christmas went. Then the new year arrived, and with it, all the students at Knightly returned to our dorms.

* * *

Molly and I squealed and hugged when we saw each other. We had talked over break, but it wasn't like being in the same room with each other.

Classes started, and with classes I also started getting asked out again. I said "no" a few times, but then a particularly cute guy asked me. Jon was small for a guy, almost elfin appearance, and really sweet. I said yes.

When I told Molly about it, she gave me an odd look but only said, "Have a nice time."

Jon took me to a movie in town. We sat next to each other, and when he put his hand on my knee, I let him. After the movie we went back to his room, found that his roommate wasn't home, and I let him pull me to his bed.

I let him go further than I'd let any other guys go with me, although I stopped him when he tried reaching under my skirt. We kissed, and I let him fumble at my chest. He was getting himself pretty excited, but I found myself thinking about homework rather than what he was doing. Eventually I told him I was pretty tired and needed to go.

I didn't ask him to walk me home.

* * *

When I got back to my dorm, I knocked on Janice and Kelly's door, not sure if I'd find them home.

I must have looked terrible. Kelly opened the door, took one look at me, and said, "What's wrong?"

She pulled me in and closed the door.

Janice and Kelly were both in pajamas and had been playing cards together. There was an open bottle of wine -- they were both 21 and legal to drink. I was 19, however. Kelly offered me a hot chocolate and told me to sit down. She handed me a plate of peanut butter cookies and began to heat water for the hot chocolate.

"What's wrong?" Janice asked.

"I just wanted to talk to you two for a few minutes." I said.

"Okay," said Janice as she gathered the cards. She dealt the cards out, dealing me in.

"What are we playing?" I asked

Janice grinned at me and said, "Strip poker."

"Janice!" said Kelly. "Don't tease her." I watched Kelly give Janice The Look. Kelly was almost as good as Mom.

"Sorry, Shane," Janice said, looking contrite. "How about kings in the corner?"

"What were you playing before I arrived?" I asked meekly.

"Gin," said Janice.

"Strip gin?" I asked even more meekly.

Janice laughed. "No, just gin. Kelly was winning."

"Damned straight," Kelly said as she handed me my hot chocolate.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," I said.

"Don't be silly," said Kelly. "I'm declaring myself the winner, so now Janice owes me a back scratch before bed."

We started playing cards and making small talk. We talked about how we'd spent our winter breaks. Janice and Kelly both spent breaks with their parents. Janice also interviewed with several companies for jobs after graduation.

"I'm going to have to get a doctorate eventually," Janice said. "But I'm trying to get a job as a chemistry tech to get some experience under my belt first."

"I'm waiting to see where Janice gets a job," Kelly said. "Teaching jobs aren't exactly growing on trees, but as long as she's living and working in a major metropolitan area, we can live together and I'll be able to find some sort of position nearby."

Janice reached out and held Kelly's hand for a moment. They gave each other an "I love you" look. It was sweet. And a perfect opening for me.

"How did you two meet?" I asked.

"Freshman year roommates," said Kelly.

"We hated each other," said Janice.

"We didn't hate each other," said Kelly. "We hated each other's habits."

"Kelly snores," said Janice.

"I do not!" Kelly retorted. "But I do nag."

"And I'm a slob," said Janice.

"Clothes everywhere."

I looked around the room. It was spotless. I cocked an eyebrow at Janice.

"We were halfway through winter term," explained Janice. "It was Monday, and Kelly had cleaned the entire room over the weekend. She even did all my laundry, including folding them and putting them away."

"I got home from class," said Kelly, "and it looked like her dresser had exploded. Clothes everywhere. I was livid."

"I got home about a half hour later and arrived to the Silent Treatment. She was glaring at me but not saying a word. I didn't even notice right away but was nattering on about something or other."

"I knew if I said one word, I was going to start screaming," Kelly said. "I couldn't wait for the year to end and was aiming at getting a single for sophomore year. I'd talk my parents into letting me rent a small apartment if I had to."

"Eventually I realized she was glaring at me. I walked up to her and said 'What?'"

"I couldn't believe she didn't realize why I was angry. I started screeching at her."

"You didn't screech," Janice said. She turned back to me. "She started in about the clothes, about how she'd just cleaned the room and even washed my clothes for me, and how inconsiderate I was. She told me how distressing it is to her to be in a cluttered space, that she can't work or even think when the room was messy, and how it wasn't fair that she had to keep cleaning up my messes." Janice looked at Kelly for a moment then turned back to me. "And she was absolutely right. And I knew she was right. She kept going on and on, and she was so angry, and it was entirely my fault, but she was just so amazingly cute at the same time. So I stepped up to her, wrapped my arms around her neck, and kissed her."

"She caught me totally by surprise right in the middle of a really good tirade," said Kelly.

"What did you do?" I asked her.

"I was too shocked to do anything," Kelly admitted. "I just stood there and let her kiss me. Then she stopped, pulled away, and said, 'You're right. I'm sorry. I'll clean it up.'"

"Then what?" I asked.

"Then she kissed me back," Janice said. "And she helped me pick up my mess."

"Then we talked," Kelly said.

"And made out," Janice said, laughing.

"And made out."

"Were you both already gay?"

They both smiled. "Neither of us knew it," Kelly said. "Not about ourselves and certainly not about each other. But yeah. Everything made sense after that. But we've been together ever since."

"And I'm not a slob anymore," Janice said. "Unless I'm mad at Kelly."

"Yeah, cause pissing me off when we're both already mad at each other is such a good idea."

"So you guys fight?"

"Yeah," said Janice. "Not very often."

"Only when the other one is being stupid."

They both nodded.

"We made a rule," Kelly said. "If I get mad at Janice, but we eventually decide she didn't deserve it, then I have to be her love slave for a week."

I choked on the cookie I was nibbling. They waited for me to catch my breath before going on.

"But if we decide she was right," said Janice. "Then she GETS to be my love slave for a week."

I looked back and forth between them, trying to decide if they were pulling my leg. "What's the difference?"

Janice smiled. "How selfish I am."

Kelly looked at me. "Remember how it felt when we tied you up?"

I nodded and started to blush. They grinned at me.

"Imagine that for an entire week."

"Well, just when we have time between classes and studies and stuff," added Janice.

"Oh my god," I said. My blush deepened. I could feel my scalp turning red. "How can you stand it?"

They both just grinned.

"If we haven't had a fight for a while," Kelly said. "I pick one."

"She's a horrible actress," Janice said. "I can see the fight coming a mile away."

"What do you do?" I asked her.

"I decide how selfish I'm feeling. And then maybe drop some clothes around the room."

"What happens if you lose your temper," I asked Janice.

"It never happens," said Kelly. "Not unless I'm screaming at her first."

"I don't get mad," said Janice. She grinned. "I just get even."

I finished my hot chocolate. Kelly offered me another one, which I turned down, but accepted a glass of water instead.

"Have either of you ever, you know, with a boy?" I asked.

Both their expressions turned dark, and Kelly looked away. Janice looked at her kindly and shifted closer to her so they were touching shoulders. Kelly didn't look at either of us.

"I'm sorry if I said something wrong," I said, suddenly confused.

"You couldn't know," Kelly said.

"Neither of us were virgins when we got to college, and I had a boyfriend up until I dumped him for Kelly," Janice explained.

Janice looked at Kelly. We all sat there for a moment, then Kelly turned and looked back at Janice. "Tell her." She looked away again.

Janice looked down into her lap for a moment.

"If it's none of my business..." I started to say. Janice waved at me to be quiet before looking up at me.

"Kelly was date raped her junior year in high school," Janice said softly.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Janice reached over and put two fingers against my lips and shook her head.

"They'd gone out a few times. He was a senior, a football player. A defensive slap butt or something. Whatever. A big guy."

"I was a cheerleader," Kelly said. "He asked me out. A senior asked out a junior. I was so surprised. He was a perfect gentleman for the first two dates." Then she looked away again.

"Apparently," Janice said dryly. "A junior is expected to put out on the third date when it's with a big hunk of a football player. Asshole."

"I let him kiss me and stuff," Kelly said distantly. "But it didn't mean anything. You know?" She looked at me, and I nodded. I knew. She nodded back. "When he wanted more, I told him No. It went downhill from there." She looked away, and when she looked back at me a tear was sliding down her cheek. I thought my heart was going to break for her. "He dropped me off back at home afterwards. Practically shoved me out of the car while barely stopping. Mom was watching TV. I stood in the doorway to the living room. She took one look at me, and said 'Oh no.' I didn't start bawling until she was hugging me." She wiped the tear away. "When I was done crying, she explained my choices. She said if we were going to report it, we had to do it immediately. And that it would be hard, and that most people would think it was my fault. If we didn't report it, he'd do it to someone else."

"I'm so proud of her," Janice said. "The bastard is still in prison. He was 18, she was a minor."

"He's not," said Kelly. "He got parole last year. I didn't tell you. I'm sorry, I should have told you." Janice just hugged her. When they released, Kelly turned back to me.

"My mom was wrong," Kelly said. "Absolutely everyone believed me. Not only was he an asshole, but he was stupid too. He told his buddies in the locker room it was true."

Janice smiled. "They beat the crap out of him."

"Then the entire team came to my house. They brought flowers. They ALL brought flowers. The coach gave his to my mom; the boys all gave their flowers to me. They filled the house with flowers. And they all adopted me as sort of a little sister."

We all sat there looking at each other for a while before I asked my next question.

"Is that what turned you gay?" I asked Kelly.

"Don't be stupid!" said Janice.

"Janice, hush," Kelly said. "She's not stupid." She looked at me. "Just ignorant. Which is why you're here, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry," I said, looking down.

"It's okay," said Kelly. "Ignorance can be cured."

"Stupid is forever," Janice added. The two of them looked at each other and giggled.

"I was probably always gay," said Kelly. "I just didn't realize it until Janice started kissing me." She smiled at Janice. "Now I only have eyes for her."

"Are you guys always like this, with the lovey dovey faces?"

They laughed at me. "Pretty much," admitted Janice. "We made a pact."

"We vowed to always act like we're freshly, madly in love-"

"-And in lust!" Janice inserted.

"With each other," Kelly said. "Frankly, I love the excitement of fresh love, and I never want that to end."

We paused from talking and played cards quietly for a while. I won a game and Janice won a game. I think they knew I wasn't done.

Finally I asked quietly, "How can you tell if someone else, you know, likes girls?"

Kelly paused, looking at me and considering her answer. "I guess for me, how I tell... I can tell when she starts kissing me." We all laughed. "Beyond that, I usually don't have a clue."

"Kelly, you haven't picked up on the super secret sign?" Janice asked. She had a glint in her eye, but I played along.

"What secret sign?" I asked.

"Well," said Janice conspiratorially. "If she likes girls, she wears blue eye shadow." (I need something better than this, but I'm drawing a blank, something terribly silly.)

The conversation moved to tamer topics. After a couple more games, I thanked them for talking to me.

"Come over any time," Kelly said. "We always have cookies and cocoa."

"Hang on though," Janice said, getting up. "I'll walk you to your room."

Outside my door, she turned me to look at her.

"No one here knows about Kelly," she told me quietly.

I hugged her. "No one will find out from me."

She hugged me back. "You're okay," she said. "For a freshman."

* * *

I wasn't any closer to figuring out what I was going to do.

Chapter 7: Help in Strange Places

Early in January, I did something else that may seem strange. I went to church. That may not seem strange when said so simply especially for a girl who had gone to church every Sunday and an awful lot of Wednesdays from before the day she was born. But I hadn't gone since school started.

But I went to a church in town, bypassing the school chapel, mid day on the second Tuesday in January. I picked the closest church to campus, which happened to be Lutheran. I decided the denomination didn't matter: I was just as likely to find God on a street corner than in a church, anyway. But it seemed like the right thing to do.

No one was in the nave when I arrived. I sat on the second pew from the front. My thoughts were in turmoil. I spoke quietly, figuring it wouldn't matter how loudly I spoke, God would here me or not regardless of my volume, and she would answer or not depending upon her mood.

"Are you listening?" I asked. "Is this why Shane tried to kill herself? Liking girls seems okay, a little confusing, but okay, but telling Dad." I thought about it. I came with more skills and maturity than Shane had, but I wasn't ready to tell him. I didn't think I ever would be.

"Am I supposed to fight this or go with it? Is this a choice I made somewhere? And what's with all these fantasies I keep having. I can't believe I'm supposed to go with those, they're so..." I couldn't even say the word dirty. Or kinky. Imagines of Janice wrapping tape around my legs sprang to my mind, but I pushed them away.

I heard the church door open, stay open for a bit as if someone were watching me, then close again. I didn't hear footsteps, so I otherwise ignored it.

"Help me out here," I said. "Please."

I sat there for quite a while, alternating between speaking quietly in hopes God would hear me and trying to decide for myself what to do. Eventually the church door opened again, closed, and there were footsteps coming down the aisle towards me. Someone sat down next to me and I looked to see who it was.

There was a man, about the age of my parents, dressed in plain clothes and wearing a kindly expression. "Hello," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Father James."

I introduced myself and we shook hands.

"We don't often receive visitors from Knightly," he told me. "The students usually use the school chapel."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I can leave if I'm intruding."

"No, quite all right," he replied. "We're open to everyone." He paused for a moment then asked, "Did you care to talk to someone?"

"No," I said slowly. "I came hoping for answers, but I'm not sure I'm going to get any."

"Answers from God directly?" he asked. I nodded. "God rarely speaks to us directly."

"I suppose she doesn't," I said.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Most people use the male pronoun."

I thought about it before responding. I didn't want him to think I was insane. "I've started to think of her as female, I guess." I replied.

He leaned closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "You know, so have I, but I've gotten in the habit of using 'he' to better fit with expectations, especially amongst our more conservative members." He smiled at me and winked. "What sort of questions were you hoping she would answer?"

"Well, it's sort of personal, but I was hoping she'd help me figure out what sort of person I'm supposed to be."

"Ah," he said. "Difficult questions, and not of a sort I can answer in her stead. But maybe we can come to some conclusions ourselves."

"How?"

"Well, imagine for a moment that you are God, and I am you."

I grinned.

"What do you suppose she would tell me?"

I thought about it. Then I began to smile, and Father James smiled with me. "I know exactly what she'd say," I said. "She'd tell me to trust my instincts, that I already was quite good at knowing the right thing to do." I thought about it some more. "But even before that, the first thing she'd tell me is to be myself."'

Father James smiled with me.

"Father," I asked him. "What do you suppose it means if being myself and doing the right thing seem to be opposites?"

"You don't come with easy questions, do you?" He looked away for a moment, considering his response, then looked back at me intently. "I suppose you need to decide why you think being yourself is wrong. Consider the source of your assumptions and beliefs. Understanding where your views originate can help you judge their validity."

"What if the main reason I think something is wrong is because someone else tells me it is, or perhaps due to religious doctrine?"

"Whose religious doctrine?" he asked.

"The church?" I said.

"Which church? This church?"

I shrugged. "The Catholic church for sure."

"So, you're suggesting that perhaps on some of these issues, even the religious scholars can't all agree?"

He let me think about it for a moment.

"There are some near absolutes," he said. "The Wiccans have a rede they live by that goes: Whatever you do, harm not. But even that's not an absolute. Not everyone agrees, but most people agree you are justified to cause harm for self-defense or in defense of another, for instance. Sometimes we are presented with the choice of causing one harm in order to prevent a larger harm."

"But by and large, no harm, no foul?"

"When one has made sure there's no harm. Sometimes harm is insidious. You must make the best decisions you can while understanding that sometimes you'll still make mistakes."

We sat quietly for a few minutes while I thought about it. Then I turned to him and said, "I know something else she would say to me. She'd tell me that sometimes help comes from unexpected places."

He smiled. "Was I able to help?"

I laughed. "Yes, you were, but coming to a church or a minister for help like this is expected. Now I think it's time to also do the unexpected."

We both got up and he walked me to the door. I turned to thank him then asked, "Is there a donation box?"

"There is, Shane, but that's not at all necessary."

"I know." I grinned impishly. "But it's the right thing to do."

* * *

After that, I returned my focus to my studies. I stopped accepting dates. If pressed, I would tell the guy, "I've got my eye on someone, I want to see where it goes." The someone was, of course, mythical or perhaps hypothetical, but I wasn't ready to tell everyone I was gay and didn't want the guys to think I was turning them down because something was wrong with them.

I started doing research online.  I wasn't sure how much of what I could find I could trust. I thought about talking to a school counselor, but I wasn't sure if the school would be obligated to report the conversation to my parents.

Cold January swiftly turned into a lovely February, and March wouldn't be too far behind.

I eventually decided I wanted to talk to someone older, but a stranger. If things went badly, I didn't want to ever encounter the person again. In my online research, I stumbled over, of all things, a store in the city that sold adult toys. The two women who owned the store had a reputation for being kind and discrete.

So on a Thursday in mid March I boarded a bus to the city, then used two city buses and walked four blocks, finding myself in front of an attractive storefront. There were manikins in the store window dressed in alluring attire: bathrobes, lingerie, and even a couple of stunning corsets. I tried to imagine myself wearing one of the corsets and blushed.

But I liked the image. I wondered who else would.

I stepped into the store, hearing an electronic jingle as the store's security system alerted the proprietors to a new customer. I looked around.

The inside of the store was quite spacious. I was expecting it to look sleazy, but it was actually attractive and tasteful, at least from the entrance. Clothing dominated the area closest to the front. The shop carried a nice selection of lingerie in a variety of colors, although red and black were dominant. To my left was an area devoted to leather and beyond that to clothing that looked like it was made from rubber. To my right were corsets. I never imagined there were so many different kinds and colors.

Above the various sections, suspended by chains from the ceiling were signs announcing the various departments.  So of course there was a sign for lingerie, another for leather, one for corsets. Beyond the corsets were other signs announcing departments I knew I'd be too embarrassed to visit.

But the corsets were stunning and I quickly found myself surrounded by them. The corsets were arranged into sub-departments labeled things like steampunk, brocade and burlesque. I didn't care for the goth corsets. They were all black, and I decided that was fine, but I liked the ones with color. The brocade and steampunk corsets were the most stunning to me.

I'd been browsing them for several minutes, holding a few up to try to envision myself in them, finally fixating on an amazing green brocade before a voice said from behind me, "That one would be stunning on you, although this size would be better for you."

I turned around and there was a matronly-appearing woman looking at me, holding a corset of the same model as I was. She exchanged with me and put the one I'd been holding back on the racks. I held it up in front of me.

"It looks like it might be..."

"Tight?" I nodded. "That's the general idea, isn't it?" I laughed. "Would you like to try it on?"

I think my eyes got wide like a kid in a candy store just offered free samples. "May I?"

"Of course. Let me show you to the fitting rooms." She collected two more sizes of the same corset then guided me towards the back of the store. There was an entire fitting area, almost a lounge, with private changing room at either end of the room. She asked me her name. Hers was Victoria. I remembered from the web site that the owners were Victoria and Wendy. She ushered me into one room and followed after, closing the door behind her. "It's a lot like fitting a bra," she said, "plus there are laces in back." I nodded.

She directed me to remove my blouse and climb out of my jeans. As soon as I did, she took the corset I was carrying and set it aside, selecting one of the others she had brought with her. "Your blouse was loose, and I think that one was too big. Let's try this one instead." She helped me into the corset, the entire time explaining about the fitting and wear of them. "We design all our own corsets and they're sewn locally. That's true of all of the clothing we carry. Some of the other gear we order from a store in San Francisco and other items are imported, but all the clothing is from our own line and made locally, not overseas."

She seemed very proud of that. I could see that she cared about the products she sold. Plus she was able to explain about the corsets without sounding like she was talking down to me. I decided I liked her.

Then she began to tighten the laces. "You have an amazing figure, Shane," she said. "I'm going to tighten these only so it's snug, but still comfortable. And so she did. I found myself standing straighter. She tied off the laces then said, "If you were going to wear this for an extended period, you might want it a touch looser. If I was trying to sell your boyfriend or take photos, I might go a touch tighter.

She stepped back and looked at me, tsked for a moment, then walked around behind me. "Do you mind if I change your hair?"

I was wearing a pony tail. I told her it was okay. She gently removed the scrunchy holding my hair, then produced a brush and brushed my hair out. She arranged it to fall over my right shoulder, fluffed at it a few times, then stepped back and looked at me again.

"Stunning, Shane. Simply stunning." There was a mirror in the fitting room, but she took my by the hand and pulled me out into the lounge and had me stand in front of a trio of mirrors that gave me a better view of myself.

I gaped.

"That's me?" I asked unbelieving.

"It sure is, honey," she said. "Your boyfriend is one lucky fellow. Should I box up the corset or will you wear it home?"

I turned to look at her, making a decision. She was beaming at me kindly, and I didn't think it was from the potential sale. She had to know someone my age would have a hard time paying for an expensive corset. "I don't have a boyfriend," I told her.

"Oh," she said. "Well, none of my business."

I paused. "Actually, sort of, it is."

She cocked her head at me, not understanding, then reached out and took my hand, drawing me to a sofa. She sat me down, then sat down next to me. "It sounds like you have something you want to tell me."

"I'm sorry," I said, looking away. "I didn't come here to buy a corset." Then I looked back at her and smiled. "But it's stunning, and I don't know how I'm going to pay for it, but I'm going to find a way."

She looked me up and down appreciatively for a moment then said, "Maybe we can work something out."

I looked at her sharply! Had I misjudged? She read my expression.

"Oh dear, I spoke poorly. Nothing like that!" she patted my hand. "I just meant, well. We have our own clothing line. Maybe you would consider modeling for us? We could pay you $25 an hour." She paused then grinned, "And there's an employee discount." She paused again. "You are 18, aren't you?"

"19," I said, considering. "Modeling? I don't know." I didn't want to insult her, but I was pretty sure I didn't want to be recognized as the model for a sex toy store.

"Wendy does all our photography," she said. I think she figured out what I was worried about. "And we would disguise you. Careful cropping, and we have a lovely line of masks." I could see a light bulb come on over her head. "Jeremy would love to design a matching mask for each of our corsets, and I think they'd be very popular." She noticed my questioning expression. "Jeremy is our designer. He's a dear, very witty, and a brilliant designer."

She knew I wasn't convinced, but then she patted my hand again. "But you didn't come here to ask for a job, did you? Just think about it. We can talk more whenever you're ready."

"I'll think about it," I said. "I do love the corset."

She sat, looking at me, listening. I wasn't sure where to begin, so the words came out slowly. "I came here looking for help. I'm probably just wasting your time, and I'm sorry." I then explained what I'd learned online about her shop, and how she and Wendy had a reputation that suggested I could trust them. She smiled at that, but didn't try to sell me. I decided then I hadn't made a mistake, that I could trust her a little more.

I blurted it out. "I think I'm gay." I paused for a moment then said. "No, I know I'm gay."

I started telling her the whole story. How I felt about boys, how I couldn't stop thinking about girls. I got well into it then stopped, realizing I was taking her time and hadn't even really asked if it was okay. "Do you have time for this? The store-"

"The store is fine," she said. "Thursdays are quiet, and Wendy is out front. If it gets busy, she'll call for me."

So I told her the rest. Then I said, "But that's not all," and I told her about my fantasies, about Janice and Kelly and all the rest of it. I finally wound down saying, "I tried reading online, but-"

"It's hard to tell fact from fiction online?"

I nodded. "But then I remembered. Someone once said, sometimes help comes from unexpected places." I looked around. "And what could be more unexpected than here?"

"Honey, can I ask a question?" I nodded. "Have you told all of this to anyone else?" I shook my head. "Any of it to anyone else?" I shook my head again. She paused. "Have you at any time spoken aloud the words, I am gay?" I shook my head.

"Oh sweetie," she said, hugging me. I was surprised, but she felt nice. More importantly, she felt safe. "No one has ever come out to me like this before." She hugged me again. "Thank you for trusting me. It means a lot." She released me and looked into my face. There was a tear in her eye, but she was smiling. "Can I tell you a story?" I nodded.

"You know, Wendy isn't just my business partner?"

"I figured," I said, "but didn't want to assume."

"I was only a little younger than you are now when I realized I was gay. This was about a hundred years ago, and things were a lot different back then."

"It was not!" I said.

She laughed. "Okay, not a hundred, but more years than I care to count, and things were definitely different."

Intermission: Victoria's Story

When Victoria was a teenager, times were different. They were more innocent in some ways, but more harsh in others. Things were more black and white.

Victoria's difficulties started one day in the showers after phy ed. Suzie Turner was tall with curves in all the right places. Without even realizing it, Vicky, as she was called back then, was watching Suzie in the showers. One of the other girls noticed. She nudged the girl next to her, they each nudged another girl, and soon most of the girls in the shower were watching Vicky as Vicky watched Suzie. Vicky was oblivious to it all and hadn't even realized what she was doing herself.

She hadn't realized yet that she was gay.

Eventually one of the girls nudged Suzie and said, "She's been watching you shower, Suzie. I think she loves you."

Suzie turned to look at Vicky, who immediately turned away, but then realized all the other girls were watching her. She tried to ignore them, but Suzie walked right up to her, dripping soap and water from every curve. Suzie stepped to within one step of Vicky.

"Did you get a good look?" Suzie asked. "Lesbo. Huh? Did you get a good look, Lesbo?"

"I wasn't," said Vicky, stammering. "I wasn't looking at you."

"Like hell you weren't, Lesbo," said Suzie. "Like hell you weren't. Well, I hoped you enjoyed the peep show, because my father will make sure I never have to share another shower room with you."

As Suzie walked back to her shower to finish rinsing off, she said the word again. "Lesbo." The other girls in the room took up the chant, and Vicky fled.

Suzie was good to her word, because the next day Vicky was ordered down to the principal's office. Her parents were already there. "We've had a complaint," said the principal. As soon as Vicky's parents heard about it, they started screaming at her.

No one paid any attention to her denials. "I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything."

Vicky was excused from phy ed at that point and told to stay away from the girls locker room. She received a passing grade but not allowed to participate in any other physical sports at school.

Her parents grounded her. They made her see a counselor. And they made her accept dates with boys who they felt were acceptable. Some of those boys thought Vicky would put out just to prove she wasn't gay.

Vicky hated it all.

Chapter 7 (Continued)

Victoria looked at me. "I moved out of my parents' home when I was 19, your age. I couldn't afford to go to college, so I got a job and a tiny apartment in a seedy part of town. I lived on mac and cheese and gave blood for money as often as they would let me. I started seeing women, but by then I was so sure something was wrong with me and that I didn't deserve to be happy, that the women I found didn't necessarily treat me very well."

She looked away, remembering.

"When I was 27, I met Wendy. We both worked at the same company. I remember she just looked so strong and confident. I wanted to be like her. A bunch of us went out for drinks one night after work. I had a couple of stiff drinks then went up to her and told her that I really admired her and wished I could be like her. I think she recognized something in the way I looked at her. She took my drink away from me, set it down, and then said, I'm going to drive you home."

"'I'm not drunk,' I protested to her. She stepped up close to me and whispered, 'I know you aren't. And I would really like to drive you home.'

"At that point, I got it. Wendy said to our coworkers, 'Vicky has had a half a drink too much, and I'm going to drive her home. We'll see you all tomorrow.' Then she led me to her car with me following meekly behind her. She held the door for me, closed it, then got in the drivers seat. Neither of us said a word to each other as she drove to her house. It was small and inexpensive, but it was a house, not just a tiny apartment. She parked in the driveway, got out and opened the garage door, then pulled the car into the garage. She shut off the car, then got out and opened my door for me before leading me into the house. As soon as we were in the house with the door closed, she turned around, grabbed me, and gave me the most amazing kiss I'd ever had. Then she released me, stepped away, and asked me, 'Did I guess wrong?'

"Well, she hadn't guessed wrong. We spent the rest of the night making love, not falling asleep until well after midnight. In the morning when we got up, she asked if I'd been serious about admiring her. When I said I had, she said, 'Well then. From now on, you're no longer Vicky. You're Victoria. The old Vicky is someone who is easily dismissed, someone who no one thinks is worth much. The new Victoria is someone everyone will take seriously."

Victoria paused for a while before looking at me. "My life has been completely different ever since. I owe it all to her. And I decided some time ago that if ever a girl came to me the way you did today, I wasn't going to let her go through what I went through."

We talked for a few minutes. Eventually she asked me, "Have you tried talking to anyone at school?"

"I thought about it," I told her. "But I was worried a school counselor would tell my parents. And I figured if I went to any of the other students, well, they might be a little more experienced than I am, but not necessarily any wiser." I looked down at myself. "And I was worried about what they would see when they looked at me."

I looked back up. "Opportunity," she said. I nodded. "Aren't you worried that might be how I could see you?"

"I thought about it," I admitted. "Before coming here. But if I didn't like how things were going, I could leave. At school, that might be harder."

"You don't seem particularly naive for 19," she told me. If only she knew. "Now that I've practically ordered you to accept my help, have you thought about what sort of help you actually need? You sound like you have everything figured out already."

I actually wasn't sure, so I admitted it. "I guess I don't know how to meet anyone. Especially anyone I can trust." I thought about it and began blushing. "And those fantasies I have scared me a little."

She laughed. "It's good to be cautious. We can talk about that." She pursed her lips then grew a huge smile. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"No plans," I said, "But I don't think I'm ready to date anyone."

"Not a date," she said. "Wendy and I are having a dinner party. Can you come?"

The thought terrified me, and I think she saw it. She went on. "Honey, everyone who will be there has been where you are right now. Wendy and I won't let anything bad happen to you."

I looked at her, this matronly-looking woman, older than my parents, and decided yet again I was right to trust her. "I'd love to come. Who else will be there?"

"Excellent question!" she said, beaming. She took my hand and pulled me to my feet. "We need to go talk to Wendy." She pulled me to the door.

I screeched. "I can't go out there dressed like this! Let me change first."

She turned around. "Oh, yes. No skirt. You're quite right. Wait here, don't move a muscle, I'll be back in 15 seconds." She eyed me. "You won't get it off without me, just wait here."

She disappeared without waiting for a response. She was gone for longer than 15 seconds, but she was quick. She returned carrying a matching green brocade skirt and three pairs of black heels.

She set the shoes aside, then knelt in front of me and held the skirt open for me to step into. I obediently complied, and Victoria pulled the skirt up around my waist, buttoned and zipped it, then adjusted it so it fit on my hips to her satisfaction. She stepped away and looked at me. "Lovely," she said. "Perfect. I'm so good at this." She laughed at herself.

I looked in a mirror. It was indeed lovely, but the skirt was too long. It was brushing the floor.

"Okay, shoes," she said. "I guessed your size. If these are wrong, I'll get others. I'm sorry they don't match the brocade. Most of the shoes we carry are, frankly, awfully slutty. And you, my dear, aren't at all slutty. I wouldn't allow you to wear them. We've been trying to design our own line of shoes, but it's not the same as clothing. Jeremy knows what he'd like them to look like but not how to make them, and we haven't yet found anyone local who can help us. These are the only shoes we carry that don't scream 'Fuck me'."

She knelt down in front of me, lifted the skirt away from my right foot, and helped me slip on the shoe. She buckled the thin strap then helped with my other foot. When she was done, the skirt cleared the floor by a scant two inches. She stood up, looked at me, then said, "Perfect, Shane. You are stunning."

I looked in the mirror. She was right. I was stunning. And I felt more exposed than I ever felt. I wasn't ever this flamboyant. I said so to Victoria.

"Maybe," she said. "But wear it for a while? For me?"

She didn't wait for an answer but headed for the door. I walked through and then she said quietly. "Wendy is reading a book from behind the front counter. We haven't had anyone in all day, and we wouldn't both be here except we'd gotten a shipment in this afternoon and had just finished cataloging it when you arrived. If you'd gotten here 30 minutes later, one of us would already have left." She navigated us towards the front of the store then pulled me behind a large display of leather clothing. "Wait here," she said, "but come up front when I call you. I'll only be a moment."

I nodded and watched her disappear around the display. Her footsteps clicked against the floor as she headed towards the front counter. She spoke loudly enough I could hear her.

"Wendy," she said. There was a pause and a murmur I couldn't make out. "No, no. But I have someone I want you to meet."

I came around the display and turned left towards the front of the store. I could see Victoria leaning backwards against the front counter, half facing me, with another woman standing on the business side of the counter. Wendy was taller than Victoria and slender. I was immediately struck by a sense of grace. They were both watching me, although Victoria kept glancing at Wendy to judge her reaction.

I started walking up the aisle, moving slowly so as to avoid tripping over the skirt. The heels were tall enough they added a sway to my hips that wasn't normally there, and I was forced to take short steps.

"Oh. My. God." said Wendy, watching me. She didn't take her eyes off me, but asked Victoria, "Is she for me?"

I stopped, shocked. No, I wasn't for her!

"Don't scare her away!" Victoria said. She held out her hand. "It's okay, Shane. She won't bite."

"Unless you ask me to," Wendy said.

I heard Victoria mutter something to Wendy. It sounded like, "Knock it off," but I wasn't sure. Victoria just held out one hand waiting for me, and I walked to her.

I got to her and she said quietly, "Trust me." I'm sure Wendy heard her, but she didn't say anything. Maybe she finally realized I was feeling scared, vulnerable and intimidated. But I nodded to Victoria, trusting her again.

"Wendy, this is Shane. Shane, this is my partner, Wendy. I've told you about her." Victoria turned to Wendy and said, "Shane has just come out to me. She heard we were kind and discrete. I'm the first person she's told. I assured her she would be safe with us." Victoria looked quite pointedly at Wendy.

Wendy looked back and forth between Victoria and me. As she did so, her look turned into one almost of horror. "Oh my god, Shane. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I never would have teased you if I'd known." She covered her face, clearly embarrassed now.

I looked at her and I looked at Victoria. Victoria didn't say a word but just let me make up my own mind.

"Wendy," I said. "Do you think we can be friends?"

She lowered her hands from her face. "I love making new friends," she said after a moment.

"Excellent!" Victoria said. "Wendy, we're having a dinner party!"

"We are? When? Now? There's not enough time to plan."

"Yes. No. Tomorrow. There's still not enough time to plan, but we'll do it anyway." She filled Wendy in about my life, hitting the highlights. It was surreal watching someone else explain me that way. Finally she wrapped up. "Who should we invite?"

"We can't have a dinner party without Jeremy," Wendy replied.

"A guy?" I asked.

"And his partner, Lawrence," Wendy said pointedly. "I can not call anyone Larry. We can't have a dinner party without Jeremy."

"If we do, he sulks," said Victoria.

"For a month," added Wendy.

"Jeremy is going to love you," said Victoria. "He's going to design an entire new clothing line around you."

"Do you think she'll model for us?" Wendy asked Victoria. "She'd be perfect."

"I've already asked her," Victoria said. "I think she's a little afraid for her reputation. And maybe what we'd ask her to model." She made a crude motion to Wendy.

"Oh dear," Wendy said, laughing. "No no, nothing like that. Just the clothing. Do you know how many of those corsets would sell if people see photos of you wearing them?" She started talking with pride about their clothing line, telling me many of the things that Victoria had. She suddenly stopped. "I bet Victoria already told you that. She's the one who decided we should produce locally, and it was one of the best business decisions we've ever made."

"She did," I admitted. "And offering a way I can pay for this corset-" then I looked down at the skirt and cringed. "And skirt was certainly a selling point."

"You think about it and promise you'll let us talk you into it next week," Wendy said. She winked at me.

"I'll think about it and promise to let you try to talk me into it, but you might find I'm really good at digging my heels in if I decide something is a bad idea."

"About the party..." Victoria said.

"Okay, Jeremy and Lawrence," Wendy said, pulling out a pad of paper from behind the counter and writing the names down. "You and I of course." She wrote their names down above Jeremy's, then added mine, also above Jeremy's. Then she took the pad to herself and began writing down more names. When she was done, she handed the pad to Victoria.

Victoria read the list, then held out her hand. "Pen," she said.

"No," said Wendy. "She's there for contrast."

I looked between them, confused.

"Victoria wants to cross off a name. But she's going to trust me." I looked at Victoria, who looked cross

"Shane," said Wendy. "Tomorrow, you are not to do so much as give anyone your full name, your phone number, and certainly not leave our home with anyone without talking to us first. You have to promise, or the party is off."

"Because we want to make sure you know what you'd be getting into," Victoria said.

"Okay," I said. "Promise."

The three of us talked for quite a while. They told me more about themselves. I told them about school and my plans. I explained how school was important and how I was avoiding any jobs during the school year so I could stay focused.

In the middle of our conversation, a woman came into the store. She had a dark complexion with short, black hair. She looked like she'd come straight from Italy. She looked around hesitatingly before she saw the three of us standing at the counter. She walked up to us slowly, looking at me the entire time. She walked around me, looking me up and down. I thought I was on display. It wasn't helped when Victoria took my hand and held it up over my head, encouraging me to turn around.

I obeyed, but then looked for a place to hide.

The woman spoke for the first time. "That's amazing," she said. "Do you think you have one in my size?"

"Of course," said Victoria. "But this one won't suit you at all." She held out her hand and the woman took it automatically. "But we have a violet brocade that you would look divine in." She drew the woman away.

Wendy and I continued to talk while Victoria was helping the new customer. They were gone quite some time, although Victoria emerged from the back periodically to collect more choices from around the store. My clothes were in the fitting room, and I was getting nervous about the time. I needed to leave soon if I was going to make the bus back to Knightly. But I didn't want to interrupt Victoria to go change back into my own clothes. Wendy caught me looking at the clock.

"Is someone expecting you?" she asked.

"No, but I have a bus to catch." I explained the schedule. She asked about the schedule tomorrow, so I told her it would be tight, but I was sure I could get to their house by six.

She pursed her lips but changed the subject.

Eventually Victoria and the lady customer emerged from the back of the store. Victoria was carrying a pile of clothing including the violet brocade corset and matching skirt as well as several undergarments, a camisole, and two shoe boxes. I arched an eyebrow at her, and I caught a very subtle shake to her head.

Victoria rang up the purchase, chatting with the woman the entire time, then walked her to the door. As the chimes rang and the door closed, Victoria came back with a huge grin.

"$50 an hour," she said. "That woman came in for a single camisole. One look at you and she bought almost $600 of clothing plus two pair of slutty shoes." She turned to Wendy. "We really need to get serious about our own shoe line."

Wendy laughed. "Victoria hates the shoes we sell," she said to me.

"$50 an hour is too much," I told her. "If I decide to do it, I'll do it for the $25. And the store discount. But I haven't decided yet, and offering any more money won't change my mind."

I looked around the store. The counter was closest to the clothing sections and well separated from the more intimidating products, but I was sure I wasn't willing to wear everything I could see. There was a rubber cat suit that looked amazing, but there was no way I was going to put it on and let anyone take pictures of me.

"If you do it," Wendy said, "You'll do it for $50 an hour because anything less will feel like we're taking advantage of you. I can disguise you so no one will recognize you. And you don't have to model anything you don't want to. But I reserve the right to do my best to talk you into that cat suit." She must have caught me looking at it.

"We'll see," was all I promised.

"Victoria," said Wendy after a short pause. "Shane has a bus to catch. If you watch the store, I'm going to drive her to the bus station after she changes back into her own clothes."

"Bus?" Victoria asked. So I explained again about the busses. She asked how I was getting to their house tomorrow and I explained more about the busses.

"Nonsense," she said. "Utter nonsense. I will come and get you." She took the pad of paper off the countertop, ripped off the list of names and handed it to Wendy. "You start making phone calls." She slipped the pad to me. "And you give me directions. When is your last class?"

"It's over at 2:30," I said. "But I can take the bus."

She glanced at the clock then back to me. "When's the bus back to school?" I had about an hour, which meant I had about 10 minutes to leave the shop if I were going to take city busses to catch it.

"You can't exit the corset without help," she said. She smiled. "I just love this one! The laces end just at that point in your back you can't reach yourself to untie the knot."

She folded her arms and looked at me pointedly.

"You'd make me miss my bus?"

"No," she corrected. "It's your own choice. I figure you have about 10 seconds to decide before you're dependent upon me for a ride to the bus station -- which I intend to give you anyway. So that really means you can dilly dally for the next half hour. I don't mind looking at you for the next half hour. I bet Wendy doesn't either."

"That's blackmail!"

"Yes it is," Victoria said.

"I can't believe you're blackmailing me into letting you give me a ride."

"Shane," she said quietly. "You can say no. But if you take the busses tomorrow, you'll arrive harried and not at all looking fresh. Everyone else will probably have arrived. Even if you dash to the bathroom to freshen up, it won't be the impression I really want you to make."

She paused. "The blackmail is just teasing. You knew that, didn't you?"

"No." I said. I thought about it, thought about the afternoon. "I should have known it, though."

"Come on," she said, gesturing towards the back of the store. "I'll help you change."

"You don't mind getting me tomorrow? What about the store?"

"The store will be fine. We do have employees, you know. I'd love to get you and we can talk more. You can come help for the party then have plenty of time to change and get ready."

By then we'd arrived back in the fitting rooms. Victoria gave me a turn around gesture. When I did, she untied the knot and loosened the laces. She checked the clock. "90 minutes," she said. "How did it feel?"

I realized I could breath easier, but I'd actually been pretty comfortable. I told her so. She helped me take everything off and I dressed in my own clothes. "I'd love a ride," I said as we exited the fitting room. "Thank you."

We went back to the front counter so I could give Victoria directions to the college and my cell number. Wendy was on the phone but hung up as we approached.

"Four yes, one unavailable," she said. "Roni had other plans, but I told her she absolutely had to reschedule, so she said she would and will be there.

"Who wasn't available?"

"Lisa. I was going to call Karen next." Victoria nodded. "That works. Are you set here? I'll drive Shane to the bus depot and meet you at home?"

* * *

Friday started as a typical day. I did a workout, had breakfast, and went to classes. I rushed back to my dorm and fiddled through my clothes, trying to decide what to wear. I was still contemplating when there was a knock at the door. I let Victoria in. She looked around briefly then said, "Ready to go?"

"I couldn't decide what to wear."

She grinned for a moment then asked me which closet was mine. I pointed to it, and she went diving in. She thumbed through the dresses and pulled out one of the more conservative dresses, holding it up to me and arching an eyebrow.

"Dad is very conservative," I explained.

"Uh huh," she said, putting the dress back. She pulled out the little black dress Mom had bought for me and held it up. "Much better. Do you have everything to go with it?" I nodded, and it just took me a few more moments to assemble a mini travel bag. Before we left, she asked me, "Where's your roommate?"

"Still in class," I said. Her last class doesn't end for another hour."

"Okay. When you go on dates, do you take precautious for your safety?"

I nodded. "I tell Molly who I'm going out with. But for tonight I just said I was visiting friends so she knew not to look for me, and that I might be home awfully late."

Victoria shook her head. "Okay, time to teach you some personal safety. You should already know these things. You're about to get into a car with someone you just met yesterday who could be taking you somewhere to sell you into white slavery."

I laughed.

"You can laugh, but I'm serious. What are you going to do?"

I thought about it. Then I got out my phone and she let me took her picture. I emailed the photo to Molly then told Victoria what I'd done.

"Perfect, although not enough. When we get to my car, snap a picture of my license plate and send that, too. With someone else, it's good if you're subtle so that you don't offend them, but if they do become offended, then that might not be someone whose car you want to get in."

* * *

During the drive back, Victoria and I just talked. She asked about my classes and what I wanted to do when I finished college. Then she told me entertaining stories about trips she and Wendy had taken together.

At one point, she glanced over to me and asked how I felt about teasing.

"I'm not very used to it," I said. "Well, not from adults."

She nodded. "You're going to be the center of a lot of attention tonight. Are you going to be able to handle it?"

"Should I be worried?"

"No," Victoria said. "But everyone knows everyone. You're new. Wendy and I didn't mention you, so everyone is going to be wondering what you're doing there. You have to decide what you're going to tell people."

I blushed. "I don't know if I can tell an entire room of strangers that I'm a lesbian. I haven't even told my friends."

"Everyone else who is coming tonight is either gay or a lesbian. They're all going to assume."

"But it's one thing to let them assume and another to come right out and say it." I thought about it some more. "If we tell them the story about yesterday, I'm going to look weak."

"True. With some of them, it would be endearing. With a few others, being seen as weak makes you a potential victim."

"So, let them assume what they want."

She nodded. "Will you mind if Wendy or I talk privately to one or two about you? We wouldn't mention any of the more private details, but maybe enough so they know you could use some gentle treatment."

I considered it. Gentle treatment sounded good. "Okay."

* * *

Victoria and Wendy's home was an uptown condo not all that far from their shop. It was a very trendy neighborhood. Parking was underground, and we rode the elevator to the top floor of the four-story building. The building was old, quite old, with high ceilings and exposed beams, but it had been clearly updated with modern steel and glass. The look was quite industrial.

We entered the apartment. There was a lovely foyer, which opened up into a spacious area separated only by the furniture into a living room and dining room. A kitchen and bathroom were on one side with two bedrooms on the other. Floor to ceiling windows looked out over a park. The floor was hardwood and gorgeous. The place was spotless.

"No one should arrive for two and a half hours. That gives us an hour and a half to cook and an hour for me to help you get dressed."

"I think I can put on a dress, Mom," I told her, grinning to let her know I was teasing.

She laughed, didn't say anything further on it, and led the way to the kitchen.

The kitchen was huge. There was stainless steel everywhere. There was an island in the middle with a cook top and sink embedded in it and a large stainless steel and glass vent hood over the cook top. Attached to the wall on the right was a stainless steel, floor to ceiling set of shelves upon which sat pots and pans of every size and shape. There was a large freezer and a double oven. The wall to the left had a door behind which I learned was a large walk in pantry.

I stopped in the doorway, dumbstruck.

Victoria said, "I know, it can be a little intimidating. Wendy and I both love to cook and entertain, so when we bought this place, we gutted it to the exterior walls and rebuilt everything, including this kitchen. We designed the entire place for entertaining. The bedrooms are actually quite small, although the bathroom is quite nice."

Victoria explained the menu. "We have a couple of roast chickens that are ready to go into the oven. The chicken has a crushed rosemary rub. We'll make pureed parsnips to go with the chicken and seared asparagus as a side. And we need to prepare the salad."

She began pulling vegetables out of the refrigerator. "What are these?" I asked, holding a bunch of round, red vegetables by their stems.

"Beets." She paused. "You've never seen raw beets?"

"Dad doesn't like beets," I explained. "So Mom never prepares them. I guess I've seen them in the store. Are they good?"

"I love them. Some people don't." She grinned. "If you eat a lot of them, you get a colorful surprise when you use the restroom."

"Seriously?"

She nodded. "They're for the salad, but some people don't like them, so we'll leave them to add themselves. We're going to trim them, dice them fairly small, then sauté them slowly."

I looked through the other vegetables, finding some that looked like fat, white carrots. I held one up.

"Parsnip," she said. "It's another root vegetable. They're great with everything. You've never had one?" I shook my head.

She found a vegetable peeler and handed it to me. "Wash your hands," she said. "Then you can peel all of those just like you would a carrot." She paused. "You do know how to peel a carrot, don't you?"

"Yeah," I said. "But anything more complicated and I'm lost."

"Peel it into that sink -- it has a disposal." She indicated the sink in the center island. "Pay attention to the scent. Parsnips have a to-die-for scent."

She was right. The parsnips smelled wonderful. I peeled the batch then asked her what to do with them. She took them from me and trimmed off the ends, then set them aside.

"Can I try one?"

She trimmed a slice off one of them. "I'll caution you, they aren't very good raw." She handed me the slice and I tried eating it, but made a face. She handed me a napkin.

"See? But wait until they're cooked. Oh, they're very lovely then."

She set me to washing all the vegetables. She wouldn't let me handle a knife. "I'm particular about this, but if you keep coming early for dinners, I'll be happy to teach you anything you want to know. Didn't your mother teach you to cook?"

"Yeah," I said. "Sort of. I wasn't really interested before. I can bake cookies and toss in a pizza."

She tsked at me. "Your mother didn't do you any favors letting you make it to 19 and not knowing how to cook."

"That sounds suspiciously sexist," I told her.

She laughed. "If your brother were here, I'd tell him the same thing. Next time you're home, you need to start helping out in the kitchen."

"Yes, Mom," I said grinning at her.

"Damned right," she said. "You'll listen to Momma Victoria if you know what's good for you."

We assembled the salad together. "I like a vibrant table," Victoria said. "I try to bring in all the colors of a garden into my meals. Then you have something interesting to look at, too. Easy, simple and fun."

I swiped some of the vegetables from the salad. Victoria caught me doing it, tsked at me, then assembled a mini vegetable plate for me. She pushed that to me instead.

"Jeremy finds my cooking scandalous," she said as she began on the beats. "The three secrets to French cooking are all butter, butter, butter. Is that a problem, Skinny Girl?"

"I eat dorm food," I told her. "Pizzas. Cookies. I'll slurp a milk shake if one is offered to me. I keep my figure by working out obsessively. And thank you for noticing." I ate another carrot.

After cutting up the beets, she made me sauté them with olive oil and a tiny amount of onion. "Don't let them stick to the pan," she ordered, then was fiddling with the temperature the entire time I was cooking. When they were done, she set them aside to cool, but speared one with a fork, blew on it to cool it, then handed it to me. "If you don't like it, better to find out in front of me than in front of everyone else."

Wendy arrived about 4:30 just as we were finishing in the kitchen. "In here," Victoria called out to her. "We were just wrapping up and were going to change and get dressed."

Wendy came in, crossed the room to Victoria, then pulled her into a kiss. I looked away, embarrassed to intrude upon their privacy.

"Do we shock you?" Wendy asked me.

"No," I said slowly. "I've just never been around a lot of PDA, especially adult PDA. My folks don't even touch each other in front of Matt or I."

"That's sad," Wendy said. "People should feel free to express their love for each other." She let me think about it. "In case you're worried, there will probably be some hello and goodbye kisses between us and most of our guests, but we didn't invite you to an orgy or anything like that."

Victoria added to that. "Jeremy is going to take one look at you and treat you like his long lost sister though. Expect a hug. He's a total sweetie but can be a little surprising when you first meet him."

Victoria looked at the clock. "You can freshen up in the bathroom. Then we have a surprise for you."

I looked at her suspiciously, but she and Wendy started kissing again, so I retreated to the bathroom, fetching my cosmetics bag on the way. I cleaned up then did my face and arranged my hair.

When I exited the bathroom, the two of them were waiting to pounce.

"Present time!" Victoria announced, thrusting a box into my arms. It was wrapped in glittery white paper with a matching bow. "This is a coming out present," she said.

"But it comes with a condition," Wendy added. "You have to wear it tonight."

I tried shaking the box to figure out what it was then looked at them for a clue. They both just smiled at me while holding hands.

I delicately began to peel the paper off the box, but Victoria made a disgusted sound. "If you don't open that properly," she threatened, "I'm going to encourage Wendy to tease you terribly all evening long."

I tore the paper from the box and opened it. Nestled inside was the green brocade corset I'd tried on yesterday. There were stockings, undies, and underneath all that, the skirt that matched the corset.

I looked at the present in shock then at the two of them beaming at me.

"There are matching shoes waiting for you in the guest bedroom. We know you liked it," Wendy told me. "There's no way you're that good an actress."

"But it's too much," I protested.

"Pshaw," she replied. "You forget. We know the guy who makes them. We got a deal."

I laughed. "You want me to wear this tonight? You're making me the center of attention. I'm going to die of embarrassment."

"Even in this," Wendy said. "You won't be the most provocatively dressed. I know for a fact there will be at least two more corsets tonight. You're our youngest guest, and you have a great figure, but there are at least two women with more alluring figures than yours. Wearing this," she waved to the corset, "you'll fit in."

"Why did you have me bring the LBD?" I asked Victoria.

"Mostly for misdirection, partially in case you chickened out."

I still wasn't convinced, which must have been apparent to Victoria and Wendy.

"Shane, honey," began Wendy. "Vic and I talked last night about you. We have the impression you intend to grab life by the horns, hop on, and not let go."

"You can approach life cautiously, and there's nothing wrong with that," Victoria said. "You can dip your toe in carefully and make sure the water feels good before slipping quietly into the water. That's the safe approach."

"It's also boring," Wendy said with a smirk. "So right now, you're standing next to the water, and you have a couple of lifeguards here. What are you going to do?"

I slowly put everything back in the box, caressing each piece as I did so. Then I picked up the box and said, "Thank you. I love it! Who is going to help me with it?"

"My turn!" Wendy said immediately. "Vic needs to go get dressed, anyway. Wendy took the box from my arms then grabbed my hand and led me to the room that turned out to be a guest room. I heard the other bedroom door open and close, so I knew Victoria was in the other room, presumably to get ready.

The room had a queen-sized bed with what appeared to be a homemade quilt on it. There was an old wooden dresser and a chair. There were pictures on the walls. Some were travel pictures, and I saw what I decided was a younger Victoria standing in some ruins that looked like they may have been in Rome or Athens.

Wendy set the box on the bed then pulled everything out and arranged it. She turned around and looked at me. "Well? We don't have all day." She tried to give me a stern look, but there was a twinkle in her eye. She sat down on the bed, watching me.

I decided it was time to get even for Wendy teasing me yesterday when we met. In for a penny and all that. I reached up and slowly began unbuttoning my blouse. I didn't have a clue how to make it look sexy, but I decided that as long as she knew I was doing my best to tease her, it would work.

I lowered my head like I were shy, then watched her through my lashes as I unbuttoned the blouse. I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans equally slowly, then carefully pulled the blouse out from the inside of my jeans. I didn't take it off yet, but let it hang open in front.

Wendy looked like she was trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing, but she didn't take her eyes off of me.

I sat down in the chair, lifted a leg, and then slowly worked a sock off, taking my time. Once my foot was free, I pointed my toe for a moment then set that foot down and repeated the performance with the other foot.

I stood up and turned my back to Wendy, then shrugged my shoulders and let the blouse fall off and tumble to the floor. I took two steps back towards Wendy then looked over my shoulder at her. "Would you undo me?" I asked softly.

She reached up and unlatched my bra for me. I let the straps fall from my shoulders, and the bra fell to the floor, landing beside my blouse. I bent down, picked it up, folded it, and set it on the dresser. I then did the same with the blouse, arranging it neatly, but making sure Wendy saw me in profile. I turned away from her and slowly slithered out of my jeans. I stepped out of them, then bent down, picked them up, and folded them before they joined my bra and blouse on the dresser.

I turned to Wendy slowly, attempting to portray an innocent face, then hooked my fingers into the waistband of my panties and slid them down my legs. I let my hair fall over my eyes. I stood up, dangling my panties in one hand, then reached out a straight arm and let them fall into Wendy's lap. Her eyes followed them down as they fluttered into her lap, and she stared at them for a long moment before looking back at me. I watched her the entire time.

"You bitch," she told me, but she was smiling.

I pretended to ignore her, but simply reached my hands up and started to arrange my hair. The end result was that I stood straighter than ever with my chest thrust out right at Wendy's eye level. By now, I was starting to get carried away. It was fun knowing she was watching me. It was fun knowing I was successfully teasing her, probably in a way she hadn't been teased for a very long time.

So I stepped closer to her, said, "Excuse me," the brushed my body against her as I reached past her for the undies. I straightened up, then lifted one leg, pointed the toe, slipped the undies over my foot, then set my foot on her knee as I pulled the undies up. I slid my toes off her knee, then poked my other foot through and pulled them up to my waist, standing very close to her and wriggling a bit as I settled the undies into position.

I looked at her square in the eye, then said in a voice as close to hers as I could manage, "Vic, is she for me?"

She started laughing. "That was payback?"

I nodded. "Uh huh. How did I do?"

"I think I need a cold shower," she said still laughing. "I'd go jump Vic right now if we had the time." I laughed with her. "Do you think we could please finish getting you dressed so that I can go cool down before our guests arrive?"

She got up and helped me put on the corset. She was still chuckling. "You're not an innocent and naive as you appear."

"Whatever are you talking about?" I asked her. "I'm still a virgin."

"Seriously?"

I nodded. "I told you, I grew up in a conservative household. I wasn't allowed to date until I was 16, and then dates were very closely regulated. And as it turns out, guys don't seem to turn me on much anyway. Of course, there haven't been any girls, either."

We adjusted the corset, and I ran my hands over it again, feeling the texture of the cloth. Wendy began to cinch the laces for me. I stood up straight as the corset wrapped around my ribs and lifted my chest.

"Shane, dear," Wendy said as she worked. "Just remember. Paybacks are a bitch." Then she began really tugging on the laces, squeezing the breath out of me.

"Can't breath," I croaked. "Can't breath."

"Shallow breaths, dear," she said sweetly as she tied the knot. "Here, let me help you with the skirt."

She finished dressing me, even doing my stockings for me. She went to the closet and came back with a pair of black heels. They weren't the same pair that I'd worn yesterday. She showed them to me and they were absolutely lovely. Then she knelt down and I put a hand on her shoulder to steady myself as she slipped a shoe over my left foot, buckled it for me, then helped me with the right foot.

She stood up and made minute adjustments to all the clothing. The skirt wasn't exactly the one I wore yesterday. It rode higher, ending mid-calve. I could walk more comfortably in it or even dance, if I wanted to.

Wendy grabbed a brush and adjusted my hair for me.

"This is the most amazing color," she said as she adjusted my hair to fall over my shoulder, caressing the top of my right breast. Then she took my hand and drew me to stand in front of the mirror. "You look radiant, Shane."

"I still can't breath," I told her.

"Paybacks. Are. A. Bitch." She said, smiling at me.

"Victoria will loosen them for me," I told her.

"No she won't," Wendy said. "You're going to wear it just like that for the next 30 minutes until everyone has gotten their first impression of you. Then one of us will ask for your help in the kitchen, and we'll loosen the laces for you. In the meantime, take shallow breaths and don't pass out."

We exited the bedroom back into the living room. She looked at the clock and muttered, "Oh dear. I'm still not dressed, and I look a fright. Make yourself comfortable. Victoria and I shan't be long."

With that she disappeared into the other bedroom. I used the opportunity to prowl their home.

There were pictures everywhere. I hadn't really noticed them when we first came in. Some of them were of buildings or mountains, but most of them were photos of people. Victoria appeared frequently. Some of the photos were taken here at the apartment or in other domestic settings while others were clearly in more exotic locales. Wendy appeared occasionally as well, but it was clear that Wendy was the one behind the lens most of the time.

The photos in one corner of the room were devoted to the store. There was an arrangement of 7 photos. The middle was of Victoria and Wendy in front of the store, smiling widely, with Victoria about to cut the ribbon that was tied across the doorway. There was another photo of Victoria, Wendy, and a mountain of a man I didn't recognize. The remaining photos were fashion shots of some of their product lines.

I continued to prowl Victoria and Wendy's home, looking at all the photos and admiring the other artwork in the room. There were no paintings, but there were several colorful glass vases and bowls throughout the living room. They were very pretty.

Then I found a photo of a much younger Victoria. She was thinner than she was now, with a body far better than mine. I was looking at the photo and wondering what it would have been like to have met her back then when I heard their bedroom door open behind me. I turned around then opened my mouth in shock.

"You didn't think the old broads still had it, did you?" Victoria said, laughing.

They were both dressed to the nines in corsets, skirts, and little black hats. Wendy had a black scarf tied around her neck while Victoria was wearing a strand of pearls. They both wore gloves.

"These are from our steampunk collection," Wendy said. She laughed at my expression. "Looking sexy isn't just for kids you know."

"We told you there would be at least two more corsets tonight," Victoria said as I closed my mouth. "And that you would fit in."

"Is everyone going to be dressed like this?" I asked.

"No, not at all. Jeremy and Lawrence never wear corsets," Wendy said with a smirk.

"Are you sure?" Victoria asked playfully.

"Dominique is in a goth phase," said Wendy. "She'll be all in black, of course, and you'll be able to tell her mood the instant you see her. She might come in a goth grunge look, which means she's feeling pretty good, or she might come formal in her own corset. That means she hasn't gotten any in a while and is feeling bitchy."

"Is that really her name? Dominique?"

"I doubt it," said Wendy, "but it's the only name she answers to." She paused. "Roni will arrive promptly at 10 seconds after 6 and will have come straight from the office. In spite of working an 11-hour day, her makeup and hair will be perfect, but she'll be dressed in business attire. It's Friday, so that can be business casual, but probably not."

"As for the rest, we'll see," Victoria said with a shrug. She checked the clock. "Roni will ring the bell in exactly 3 minutes, and Penny will attempt a grand entrance in 30."

"You told people to arrive at six," I said. "And she comes at 6:30? My mother would call that rude."

"She used to arrive typically an hour late. So one day we made all her favorite foods then made sure they were either all eaten or horribly cold by the time she arrived. Now she makes sure to arrive just as we're about to sit down. She does like to make an entrance."

I laughed at the way they'd tried to train her. "That would work for me."

"I'm going to check on the chicken," Wendy said, heading that way. Victoria crossed the room and checked me out. She made minor adjustments to my hair then frowned at my neck and ears.

"Come with me," she said, dragging me to her bedroom. When we got there, she positioned me in front of her dresser. There was a mirror on the wall behind it. Then she opened a jewelry box. "Take those earrings off, they're all wrong for what you're wearing." I took my earrings out and set them on the dresser. Victoria poked through the jewelry box then pulled out two earrings but didn't let me see them.  She turned me to face her, then installed an earring in each ear. "Better," she said.

She turned me back to face the mirror. I looked at my ears and found she had picked out a pair of emerald earrings. They were divine. The green went along beautifully with the green brocade. Victoria then draped a white gold necklace around my neck with an emerald pendant that matched the earrings.

"These are a loan just for tonight," she said.

"They're lovely," I told her. "Thank you. You're being so kind."

"You're welcome. And no more trying to steal my girlfriend. She told me about your little game earlier."

"I'm sorry!" I said. "I wasn't trying to steal her! I was just teasing her."

"Right. And while you're at it, learn to tell when we're teasing you." She grinned at me.

I laughed at myself. "I'm trying," I said.

"Good job, by the way," she said. "I had to fend her off in here if we were going to be ready on time."

And with that, the front buzzer rang.

"That's Roni," Victoria said.

We exited the bedroom. Victoria answered the front buzzer, listened to the garbled sound, then buzzed them in.

Wendy came out of the kitchen. "The chicken is perfect," she declared. "That was Roni?"

"And Jeremy and Lawrence," replied Victoria.

Wendy turned to me. "You. Go stand by the windows, looking out. Pretend no one is here until we call you. And don't fidget!"

I did as I was told, although the no fidgeting part was hard. I was suddenly nervous. I felt like I was on display, and I wasn't accustomed to that. But Victoria and Wendy were being so sweet, and I had asked for their help. And wow! Did I love the corset. Even if I still couldn't breathe.

Behind me, I heard the door open and new voices enter the conversation. I heard kisses exchanged and coats taken off. There was one female voice, low and sultry, and two male voices. One of the male voices was deep and booming and sounded like it was coming from a Norse god. The other was quiet, restrained, and it felt like it was a leash, holding the Norse god from flying off to the skies.

I held still by the window, my hands at my sides, and managed to stop rocking from foot to foot.

Footsteps and voices moved from the foyer into the dining room. Then they all stopped, and there was a moment of silence.

"Who. Is. That?" the female voice asked.

"Oh," said Victoria, absentmindedly. "Shane, dear."

My hair was draped over my right shoulder. I turned my head to the right so that I was looking over the same shoulder, past all the hair. Victoria was holding a hand out towards me.

"Come and meet our guests, dear."

I slowly rotated to the right then calmly, although I wasn't calm at all, walked towards them.

"Oh my god," said the Norse god. "She's a doll. Larry, look, she's wearing one of my creations!"

Five pair of eyes watched me as I crossed the room to take Victoria's hand.

The Norse god was tall and huge. Not fat, not an ounce of fat, but he was huge. His hands were big enough I wondered if he could circle my entire waist in one hand. Standing next to him was a far more normal sized man. Both men were dressed in black and were impeccable. I wondered if the mountain had to make his own clothes to find things that fit so well.

The woman was tall for a woman and slender and appeared to be about 30 years old. She had straight shoulder length hair. She was wearing a blue skirt and a white blouse with stockings, heels, and a blue scarf around her neck that matched the skirt. She was stunning. She was smiling, and her blue eyes bore into mine as I crossed the room.

"Shane, dear," said Victoria, drawing me closer. "This is Jeremy and next to him is Lawrence."

Jeremy stepped up and I looked up at him. And up. And up. Then he reached out those huge hands of his and placed them on my shoulders. He turned me around like I was a doll, and I had no choice but to let my feet follow.

He turned me back to face him and he was beaming. Then he pulled me into a bear hug and I felt like I'd been swallowed.

"Girl," he said. "You are my new best friend."

He set me back in my feet and held me steady while I found my balance. Then he adjusted my clothing and hair, undoing the damage from his bear hug. I stood there like a manikin, letting him fuss at me.

I think the others were used to his behavior, because they all just waited patiently for him to finish with me.

Jeremy stepped away and then cocked his head while he looked at me. He pursed his lips then took on a distant expression. We stood there for a good ten seconds, no one saying anything, then he came back to earth and looked imploringly at first Wendy, then Victoria.

"Please," was all he said.

"Yes," said Wendy. "You can design a line for her."

"If!" said Victoria. "You first find someone who can make a proper shoe for us."

"And!" said Wendy. "You can talk Shane into it."

"And!" said Lawrence, suddenly looking more alive. "The other lines continue to sell well, and the shoes aren't horribly expensive."

Lawrence stepped up to me and offered me a normal handshake. "I'm Larry, also known as the bitchy accountant."

Throughout all this, the woman never took her eyes off me.

"And this," said Victoria, "is Veronica."

Veronica stepped forward and offered me her hand. She looked like she might have wanted to do something more intimate than that. She was at least ten years older than I was, and even then I thought I might have wanted her to. As I said, she was stunning.

By now, Jeremy was walking around me and fussing at me. He pulled an imaginary piece of lint off the corset, coming far closer to my breasts than any other man had in the past. He adjusted my hair again, fiddled with the necklace, then did something to the laces of the corset. He smoothed this and fluffed that. Everyone else ignored him, so I decided to do my best to do so, too. But I was deeply flattered by the attention and soaked it up.

"That's enough, Jeremy," Victoria said eventually. "She's perfect. Stop grooming her like a monkey."

"More like King Kong," I said before I could catch myself by slapping my hands over my mouth.

Jeremy was the first to laugh. He reached over and gently removed my hands from in front of my mouth.

Wendy ushered us further into the room then asked Veronica to help with drinks. Lawrence joined them, and I could hear Lawrence and Veronica discussing the wines they had brought with them. The three of them disappeared into the kitchen, then Wendy came back and called to me, "Shane. To drink? We have coffee, tea, soft drinks, water, and maybe some fruit juice."

"Tea?" I said. "If it's not any trouble."

She disappeared again.

Victoria, Jeremy and I made harmless small talk for a minute or two before the door buzzer rang again. Victoria went to answer it, leaving Jeremy and I alone. His voice dropped to a more intimate volume as soon as Victoria was away.

"Shane," he said kindly. "How did you find yourself in this spider's den?"

"The caught me at their shop yesterday," I said, putting on a face. "It was terrible. First Victoria snared me in her web and dressed me like this, then tried to feed me to Wendy."

"Oooh," he said. "You're the girl who made the huge sale. On a Thursday. To a new customer who had to use two credit cards to pay for everything. And now you're here."

He looked at me, then over to Victoria as she was opening the door, then back to me, and his eyes narrowed.

"Are you as nervous as you look?"

"Terrified," I admitted. "I feel like I'm on display. I'm in way over my head."

He cocked his head at me. "Wendy dressed you, didn't she?"

"How can you tell?"

"Vic never ties the laces that tightly. Wait, don't tell me. 'Shallow breaths, dear.'"

I laughed.

Jeremy reached out and patted my hand. "You're safe here," he assured me. "You look exquisite. Wendy can be a conniving bitch and Victoria is even sneakier, but they have a history of taking in lost puppy dogs. They are fiercely protective of anyone they consider theirs." He eyed my neck. "And Victoria never loans her jewelry to anyone." I reached up and touched the necklace. Jeremy continued. "The only other person in the world I'd trust as much as Wendy and Vic is Veronica, but don't you dare tell her I said that! I'd never hear the end of it."

I hadn't noticed it, but Jeremy had moved us back to the windows and was standing between me and the front door. He was so big that he blocked my view of most of the room and equally blocked anyone from at the door from seeing me. But then I heard Victoria approaching with two more guests.

"Jeremy. Shane." she said, drawing closer.

Jeremy winked at me, then stepped to my left, which means I subconsciously followed him with my body. The first view of me the new arrivals had would have been of the giant, Jeremy, and next to him this tiny woman with long red hair over her shoulder.

I turned to look at the new arrivals. The first was a pleasant-looking woman who was maybe a few years out of college. She was dressed in a new age style of bright colors and numerous scarves. She was of modest height and exceedingly slender.

Next to her was the woman who must be Dominique. She was indeed dressed all in black, with heavy make up. She was wearing a black corset, black mini skirt, black stockings and boots. She had black nail polish, black lipstick, and she appeared to be a not-too-distant cousin of a raccoon. She was glaring at me.

"Someone doesn't like competition," Jeremy said quietly.

"Shane, dear," said Victoria. "This is Teri." She indicated the new age woman. "Teri, Shane."

Teri air kissed my cheeks and said something about my aura. I decided she was cute and probably rather vapid. I may not want a career in the sciences, but I wasn't quite ready to accept the whole mystic crystal lifestyle either.

"And this is Dominique," said Victoria. Dominique didn't offer a hand but just tipped her head very slightly in hello. She was still glaring at me. I smiled sweetly at her and told her I loved her outfit. Then I asked who did her hair and inquired as to how she'd learn to apply makeup so well.

"The first thing Jeremy did when he saw me was rearranged everything about me," I explained. "But you come in looking perfect without a hair out of place. How do you do it?"

I could tell she didn't have a clue whether I was putting her on or was truly sincere. For what she was portraying, she had done a good job, and indeed there wasn't a hair out of place. She stopped glaring at me, but I could tell we weren't to be friends. I was okay with that.

Victoria left to answer the door again. Dominique left to freshen up. Jeremy and Teri talked about gemstones, with Jeremy suggesting different stones that would better fit her complexion. I stood by and watched.

Veronica, Lawrence and Wendy by now were ferrying drinks to everyone, and Victoria reentered the room with the first woman who had appeared who I knew on sight was the stereotypical lesbian. I knew immediately she was what folks meant when they called someone "butch". Her name was Nancy, and she actually licked her lips when we were introduced.

"Nancy," chided Victoria. "You really must buy her a drink before you eat her, even just with your eyes."

Nancy nodded and actually took Victoria seriously. She went in search of Wendy then came back with a glass of white wine and offered it to me.

"That's sweet," I said to her, "but I have to stick to tea tonight. But thank you."

Victoria and Wendy took turns swirling the room, interrupting conversations and moving people around. Somehow through all of it, Jeremy stayed at my side. During one orchestrated changing of the guard, I asked him, "Did you get appointed as my protector?"

"Self-assigned," he said. "In case Nancy tosses you over her shoulder and tries to carry you off." He paused, grinning, then got serious. "If she does, am I supposed to interfere?"

"Oh god," I said. "Please do. I swear she was eyeing my clothing, wondering what order to take everything off or perhaps just wondering if she should use a knife and slice it off."

Jeremy chuckled briefly. "She wouldn't hurt you, you know. Underneath she's actually very sweet. Besides." He was grinning again. "You shouldn't wear my designs if you aren't willing to accept the attention."

Wendy and Victoria kept checking on me, but they realized that Jeremy was watching over me, so they appeared to relax. I also saw them glancing at the clock and then I saw them exchange looks. Wendy looked at the clock, then at the door, then back to Victoria. Victoria looked at the clock, then at me (and smiled), then at Wendy.

Exactly thirty minutes late there was one final buzz. Three minutes later, Victoria admitted the last woman to the party. I was paying attention to a story that Jeremy and Lawrence were telling in alternation to Teri, but then Victoria brought the new arrival around to say hello to everyone, coming to me last.

"And this is Shane," she said. "Shane, this is Penny."

Penny was of medium height and was the only woman in the room wearing a little black dress. She had on heels, a gold necklace, and bright red lipstick. Her fingernails were also painted red and I noticed later her toenails matched her fingernails. The result was quite dramatic and rather predatory.

"Aren't you just divine," she said, air kissing me. Then she linked her arm in mine and plastered herself to my side, not to be budged.

"Dinner is ready," Victoria declared immediately. "If you can all take your places." She and Wendy led the way. Penny held my arm and drew us both to the table together with an amused Jeremy offering an arm to Teri.

"Where are you sitting?" Penny asked me.

But Victoria was carefully orchestrating. "Wendy, if you can take that end," she said, gesturing to the end of the table furthest from the kitchen. "I'll take this end. Shane, as you offered to help serve tonight, I'd like you here to my left. Jeremy, can you take the spot just past Shane? Lawrence, I'm tired of you and Jeremy playing footsie under the table, so you will sit over on the other side next to Wendy." Lawrence looked offended, probably at the suggestion he would play footsie in public, but Wendy whispered something to him and he looked mollified.

In the end, Teri, the woman dressed in crystals and new age colors, sat across from me. On the other side of Jeremy were first Dominique and then Veronica. Across from Jeremy was Nancy and next to her, Penny. Penny didn't look pleased but took her assigned place. She muttered, "Why does Jeremy get to sit next to her?"

"Because," said Victoria. "Jeremy won't eat her."

"Are you sure?" I asked nervously, looking at him. There were a few chuckles.

"Naw, you're safe," said Jeremy. "You're too scrawny to be worth eating. All skin and bones." To demonstrate, he reached out to pinch my arm.

I grinned and flexed.

I heard an "oh my god", but I wasn't sure who it was from. Jeremy grinned back at me and leered, pinching my arm in a few places. "Okay, maybe she is worth eating."

Everyone laughed.

Then Victoria invited me to the kitchen.

As soon as the door closed, she told me quietly, "Turn around." I did, and she came up behind me and started fumbling with the laces of the corset. She let them out quite a ways and I got the first decent breath of air I'd gotten in an hour. "Just breathe for a moment," she said, and I took several good breaths. Then she tightened the laces again, but nowhere near as tightly as Wendy had done them. She turned me around and looked at me, then nodded. "You still look stunning. Wendy tied them tighter than she needed to."

"She told me that paybacks were a bitch."

Victoria grinned. "You played with fire."

After that, we began taking the various dishes out to the table. The salad was already there. I just brought out first the vegetables. I saw people were passing the salad bowl around, filling their salad plates. When I returned to the kitchen, Victoria was starting to prepare individual services of the chicken. She placed a friendly dollop of the parsnip puree onto each plate then added a piece of the chicken. As I came in, she gave me two plates and told me who they were for. I made the requisite trips back and forth, delivering lastly my plate and Victoria's. The food smelled wonderful.

The table conversation over the meal was mostly small talk, but it eventually turned to me. It was actually Lawrence who said, "Shane, everyone else here knows everyone else, but no one knows a thing about you."

I offered a short description. "College girl. I'll probably go into business eventually. That's about it."

They all stared at me. Eventually Jeremy said, "Uh huh. I don't think that's everything."

"What?" I said. "I'm just an innocent college kid. It's not like I've done anything in life."

Wendy scoffed. "Innocent? I think not." They all turned to her, and Penny said, "Do tell."

"Do you know what this little vixen did earlier?" she said.

"Oh no," I said quietly. "She wouldn't."

"Paybacks are a bitch," Victoria said to my right.

Wendy launched into the tale of my escapade from earlier. It took her at least as long to tell the story as it had to originally enact it.

"Aren't you going to stop her?" I asked Victoria.

"Not a chance," she said.

Everyone listened raptly as Wendy told the entire story, looking back and forth between us. It looked like a tennis match with people watching the bouncing ball. My blush started almost immediately, and when she got to the part about my undies, I buried my face in my hands.

"And if that wasn't enough," she told them. "This little minx, now buck naked and flashing that hot little ass of hers at me, leaned across my lap to start collecting the clothes she was going to put on. She doesn't know how close she came to the most thorough spanking of her short life."

Penny and Nancy both looked like they were thinking about spanking me, and I think Dominique was wondering whether she would be allowed to watch or contribute a paddle.

Then, while everyone was looking at me, Wendy smiled sweetly and winked at me. "Paybacks are a bitch," she mouthed at me.

* * *

After the meal, we retired to the living room again, splintering into small conversation groups. Wendy and Victoria cleared the table, and Penny managed to snag my arm and draw me off to a corner alone. Once I was in the corner, she positioned herself between me and the rest of the room, preventing escape while also excluding anyone else from the conversation.

The attention was actually quite flattering. Penny was attractive and intelligent, and she deftly steered the conversation without monopolizing it. Furthermore, she seemed to actually be interested in getting to know me and was sharing fairly intimate details about herself. I stopped trying to escape and decided to enjoy the conversation.

We were talking for about twenty minutes when Wendy stopped by. "I'm sorry, Penny, but Victoria and I need Shane for a few minutes. You can have her back shortly." Wendy reached past Penny, grabbed my hand, and pulled me from the corner, leading me back to the kitchen. We passed Jeremy and Lawrence standing just outside the kitchen, and I swear they were set up as guards. Once in the kitchen, Victoria handed me a fresh cup of tea and gestured to a stool.

"Learn your lesson yet?" Wendy asked me with a grin.

"What lesson?" I asked innocently.

"Don't tug the tiger's tail lest she bites."

I looked at her, pulling myself up to my whole five-foot-three (plus heels). "You'd be disappointed if I let you cow me."

Victoria laughed while Wendy tried to look severe. I just eyed her, grinning at her.

Victoria then said, "So? Tell us what you think of everyone?"

"Everyone?" They nodded.

"Okay. Jeremy. I love him! He's great. He seems like the brilliant but air headed designer, but he just plays that part."

"Oh no, he really is a brilliant but air headed designer, it's just that he is able to come back down to earth when it matters."

"That's Lawrence's doing," added Wendy. She turned to Victoria. "That was so cleverly done of you, Vic, setting them up like that. I never would have put them into the same room, much less a relationship, but they're perfect for each other."

"I can't really add much about Lawrence," I said. "He seems bright. He and Veronica appear to be friends."

"Not friends, but a lot of mutual respect. Lawrence is a good accountant and Veronica is a good business woman."

"Okay," I continued. "Veronica. She's stunning! Truly stunning." They beamed at me. "But I haven't had much chance to talk to her. I don't think she likes me."

They smiled knowingly at each other and didn't say a thing.

"Teri seems friendly but vapid." They nodded. "Harmless." They nodded. "She's not my type."

"We didn't think so," said Victoria. "But she's very sweet and a good friend. She'd give you the clothes off her back, while in public if you needed them, and then apologize for the quality and fit. Please be gentle with her, she's one of ours."

I nodded as I was starting to understand what that meant.

"Nancy scared me at first," I said. "She's so..."

"The word you are looking for, dear, is 'butch'," said Victoria.

"I thought she'd cart me away, right then and there, never to be heard from again. But I watched her with Dominique. Dominique's a bitch, but Nancy was gentle with her. And Jeremy said Nancy is very sweet underneath." I looked at them and they were waiting expectantly. "She's one of yours, too?"

"No, not really," said Wendy. "Nancy isn't anyone's. But she's fiercely loyal, and we wanted you to meet a wide variety of people tonight. Nancy represents a stereotype, and she hates that, but she is what she is."

I nodded. "I think perhaps Nancy thinks in a very straight forward, direct fashion, and subtlety would be lost with her."

"Exactly," said Victoria.

"Okay, then there's Dominique. She's broken."

I didn't say anything else, just waited for them, but they just let the silence hang.

"Okay. She's been hurt."

"We've all been hurt," said Victoria gently.

"Yeah, but the rest of us get past it," I said. "She hasn't. And there's more going on, but I'm not sure what it is." I thought about it. "She lashes out and expects people to lash back. When they don't, she's surprised. She expects the worst after doing everything she can to invite it. It's like she wants to deserve being hurt."

"She was a bitch to you," Wendy said. "You were very gracious with her. Roni was commenting on that."

"Also, there's something going on between Penny and Dominique, but I'm not sure what. Sometimes they look like they hate each other, but then other times I have caught Dominique staring at her. And she was not at all happy that Penny was giving any attention to me. Are they an item?"

"On again, off again. It's been off again for a while. Tell us about Penny first."

"Penny is playing a game with me." I thought about it then a light clicked. "She's a domme, isn't she?"

They nodded.

I thought about everyone in attendance. "So is Nancy."

"Not exactly. Nancy is dominant but not a domme."

"Not counting Jeremy and Thomas, you invited two types. Very dominant and two different types of submissive." They nodded again. "But I think Dominique wouldn't mind getting me helpless, either. And hurting me."

They didn't say anything as I continued to work it through.

"She's a warning of what not to become."

They both smiled.

"So, Penny. She's a domme, and you invited her because you know that's going to interest me. And for some reason, to dangle me in front of her."

"I wouldn't say dangle," said Victoria.

"I would," said Wendy, laughing.

"If I said I was going home with her, would you let me?"

"Do you want to go home with her?" Wendy asked.

I shrugged. "She's pretty and she likes me. Would she hurt me?"

"Only if you asked her to," Wendy said. "But if you're seriously asking if you should go home with her, then we need a longer conversation about her. We won't let you go with her unless we're sure you know what you're doing."

"We're introducing you to people," Victoria explained. "And showing you potential. Some good, some bad. Maybe you would have taken a look at Dominique and found her beautiful and alluring. You could be good for her, and we think you're strong enough to handle her. Maybe you would swoon for Penny or clasp onto Nancy's arm and not let go. Or maybe you would have been a typical college girl and have found a world of love with Teri. Or maybe you just meet people and further refine what you want from life."

Wendy led the way out the door, and I pulled Victoria back. "She's not really mad about the teasing, is she? It's all in fun, right?"

"Oh dear," she said. "Of course it is. But you understand, she plays to win. She won this round, and I think you're out of your league. If you give her reason to, she will tease you horribly and embarrass you badly. But she'll never humiliate you and she'll never ever hurt you, as long as you never deserve it."

* * *

We returned to the main room. Penny had clearly been hovering around waiting for us, and she immediately latched herself to me, but Jeremy and Lawrence had taken over the corner she'd pulled me to previously, so we were more in the open.

She stood very close to me, and she smelled lovely. She was a little taller than I am, so I found myself looking up into her eyes as we talked. It was exciting, and I wasn't at all sure what I should do about it.

After a short while I felt a couple of people approach me from behind. Penny looked past me and frowned.

"I'm sorry, Penny," Wendy said sweetly. She was dragging Dominique with her. "But earlier Shane promised Veronica they would finish the conversation they'd started before you arrived. You understand."

And with that, she deftly swapped me out and Dominique in. Dominique actually gave me a triumphant grin before turning to Penny and draping herself over her. Wendy pulled me away before I could protest.

"What did you just do?" I asked her as she began to steer me across the room where Veronica was talking to Victoria.

"I taught her there's another price to coming late," Wendy said quietly. "And you are now going to give Veronica your undivided attention for at least the next thirty minutes. She's a business woman, and you want to go into business after college. Even if she's too old for you, she'd be a powerful friend to have."

Victoria and Veronica were watching me as Wendy drew me across the room. At one point, Victoria must have said something unexpected, because Veronica suddenly looked at her in surprise, then turned back to look at me in an appraising fashion.

They stopped talking as we drew closer. Wendy and Victoria stayed with us for a few moments but shortly withdrew together and it was just Veronica and I for the first time that night.

* * *

I need to take a time out at this point in the telling of my story. I found out some time later what the conversation was between Veronica and Victoria, and I want to share it.

Veronica had asked where I had come from, and Victoria told her I'd shown up in the shop just yesterday.

"She's amazingly lovely," Veronica said.

"We thought you might like her," Victoria replied.

"She's lovely, but you know how I feel about alcoholics."

"She's not an alcoholic," Victoria said. "Why would you think such a thing?"

"Well, she's been drinking tea all night. You didn't even offer her wine or even have a wine glass near her place at the table. And when Nancy gave her a glass, she handed it back. At least she's sober now, I guess."

Victoria started laughing. "On Roni, she's not an alcoholic. She's 19."

"You bitches," Veronica said seriously. "19? 19! You dangle that in front of me. You knew I'd want her on sight, and she's only 19?"

"She thinks you're stunning," Victoria said.

"She's 19. 20 I could do. 20 to 34 is just barely okay. You couldn't have at least lied and told me she was 20?"

"She thinks you're brilliant," Victoria told her.

"I am brilliant," Veronica said. "But she's only 19. What does she know?"

"More than a 19-year-old should know. I swear, sometimes she's 50. Other times, there's this innocent naïveté about her." Victoria paused, wondering how many secrets to share. "Roni, she's a virgin."

"What? No way."

"Uh huh. No boys, no girls. Not one. You could be her first. Play your cards right and you'd be her only."

"You bitch," said Veronica. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"She's a virgin, Roni, and she thinks you're stunning."

"She's a virgin at 19, so she has to be a prude. She couldn't handle me."

Victoria laughed. "You can't be serious. Do you think I'd even try to get a prude dressed like that? And you heard what she did to Wendy. That story was 100 percent true. Shane is no prude. Innocent. Naive. Young. Ignorant. And so ready for someone to teach her."

"You bitch," Veronica said again, but without any passion behind it. "19. I must seem an old hag to her."

"Roni," said Victoria quietly as Wendy and I had almost reached them. "I know you have your handcuffs in your purse. Wendy told you she had someone special to introduce to you. You always lead with the handcuffs. It's your litmus test. Roni, you get those cuffs on her wrists, and she's yours forever."

* * *

I didn't understand why Veronica told Victoria, "You're a bitch, Vic," as they were leaving. Victoria just laughed as she and Wendy walked away, looking pleased with themselves.

Veronica looked as nervous as I felt, but I didn't understand why. I asked her what she did for a living.

"I own an interior design company," she said.

"Wow," I said, impressed.

"It's a small company," she explained.  "I work my tail off, and having employees is a bitch and a half, but I'm growing something, and we're starting to be successful." She looked around the loft. "This was my first project after leaving the company where I used to work. Victoria, Wendy and I knew of each other, but we weren't really friends. Now? They're the source of half my referrals."

We talked. She asked about where I went to school and seemed impressed. Then she asked about what I wanted to do.

"I'll probably go into business," I said. "I'm not really sure what that means."

"Is that your passion, then? Business?"

I explained about my dad, and how I was proud that he was able to be successful in business while maintaining his sense of ethics. But then I admitted, "My real passion is writing, but not a journalist. Fiction. But..." I shrugged. I wasn't at all sure I had what it took to be a successful writer.

Music had been playing for a while, making it impossible to hear any of the other conversations. Veronica and I had stepped closer and closer to be able to hear each other without having to raise our voices. Then a Pretenders song came on that I loved, and I suddenly asked, "Veronica, do you swing dance?"

"You can swing dance?" she asked me with an upraised eyebrow.

"Can you follow?" I asked her, taking her hand. It was the first time we'd touched since we shook hands at the beginning of the evening.

There were two Pretenders songs, and we danced to both of them. Veronica let me lead, although it was tricky with the height difference. So many moves involve being able to reach above her head. But we made do. However, with the heels I was wearing, I was happy when the next song was a bluesy tune. We had finished the previous song holding each other. When I heard what the next song I was, I asked her, "I wouldn't suppose you tango?"

"Can you follow?" she asked me.

In response I simply changed handholds with her, then wrapped my left arm around her neck and pressed my body into hers. She wrapped her arm around me, waited for the right point in the music, and we began.

I was out of practice. I had no idea how long it had been since I'd last tangoed. I couldn't remember if I'd led or followed. But my body seemed to know the steps. She led gently and didn't ask for anything I couldn't do.

Then she made an offer. Her right foot came to the inside of my left foot, making contact. The rule in tango is that if the lead initiates foot to foot contact, the follow maintains the contact. The most obvious step at that point is for me to step with my right foot over her right foot. The offer, of course, is in allowing me the choice of what to do as I step over her foot.

I slid my foot next to hers, then slowly raised it, brushing my instead along her leg and wrapping my toes behind her leg. Then I very slowly stepped over, dragging my foot over the top of her leg as I did so.

We finished the natural sequence from that point, finding ourselves back in close embrace, but before she could start something else, I initiated a leg wrap. It wasn't the right time, and I could hear an anonymous dance teacher telling me that, but I didn't care. I caressed the back of her leg with the back of mine while I stood balanced on one foot, still leaning into her.

"You're very naughty," she told me in my ear before beginning the next sequence of steps. "I might get ideas." I just giggled.

The song ended too soon, and the next song wasn't something I cared to dance to, much less tango. Veronica just held me for a long moment though, and I relaxed into her arms. I was ready to step away, but she continued to hold me.

"Are you teasing me the way you teased Wendy earlier?" she asked me.

"No." I told her simply.

She squeezed tighter for a moment.

"You like to lead," she said.

"I don't like a vacuum of leadership," I replied.

She still didn't let me go. "Did you want me to give you back to Penny?"

"No."

"She's glaring at us. I think she realizes she's getting the consolation prize tonight."

At that I pulled away from her. "Dominique deserves better than that attitude," I told her. I saw her expression and realized she felt she'd just blown it. I wasn't sure how to fix it. "Wendy and Victoria used me to reprimand Penny for being late. They want me to go home with you."

"How do you feel about that?"

I wasn't sure which part she was asking about. "I don't like being used," I said. "But I don't have a clue how to get even. I'll think of something."

She was starting to pull away from me, cutting her losses. Damnit. I reached out and took her hand and just held it, looking up at her. She was smart, she was stunning, and she'd felt so good when we danced. I didn't care that she was almost 30.

She let me hold her hand, but she didn't step any closer. She was searching my face for something, and I was desperately afraid I was coming up lacking. I looked down, but then used her free hand against my chin to raise my eyes towards hers again.

"You've never been kissed," she declared.

"Of course I have," I replied. "Just not by a woman."

She looked confused. "I'm still figuring things out," I told her. "I don't know what's expected." I paused. "This outfit? Wendy and Victoria gave it to me as a coming out present."

"A coming out present." She made it a statement.

I nodded. "Victoria is the first person I've ever told. Wendy is the second. You're the third." I paused. I guess I hadn't told her yet. Not directly. "I'm gay. I like women. Boys bore me." I paused. "I like you. You feel good."

"That bitch," Veronica said. "Both of them. I can't believe they did this. You came out yesterday?" I nodded. "And they threw you to the wolves today?"

I nodded. "Are you a wolf?"

"Yes." She paused. "Although right now I think the proper term is cougar."

"I don't care," I told her. "What's ten years anyway?"

"Oh honey," she said. "That's sweet, but we both know it's 15."

Oh hell, she was 34. I looked away for a moment before looking back at her. I stepped a half step away from her, but didn't let go of her hand, and then I looked her slowly up and down. She looked just as fabulous at 34 as she had at 29. I stepped back and said, "I wish another tango would come on. I'd really like a chance to press my body against yours again."

"So you could tease me the way you teased Wendy?"

"No, so I could tease you long enough to get that stick out of your ass."

I'd shocked her, but she recovered.

"I like to lead," she said.

"You better be damned good at it," I told her.

She didn't wait any longer. Finally. She pulled me against her, lifted my face to hers, and began kissing me.

It was exquisite. She tasted divine.

I pressed my body against hers and opened my mouth invitingly. She didn't need any further invitation, and her tongue slipped between my lips to play with my tongue.

I think I moaned into the kiss, but I wrapped my arms further around her and hung on.

She finally let me go, and I backed up a half step, staring into her eyes. She looked past me. "We have an audience," she said quietly.

"Any of them pointing a gun at us?"

She laughed. "No. Penny just turned her back and Dominique is looking triumphant. I'm guessing they're going to give it another go. The two of them could be good for each other if they'd just learn to talk to each other." Her eyes scanned the room. "The bitches are looking fabulously pleased with themselves."

She looked back down to me.

"I don't do one night stands," she said. "Will you go home with me?"

"Are you going to hurt me?"

"No."

I looked over my shoulder to find Wendy and Victoria. They caught my eye and they each nodded once.

I turned back to Veronica, stepped back into her arms, and laid my head on her shoulder, holding her for a moment. My heart was pounding, and I knew there was no going back.

"Yes," I told her.

She took me by the hand and led me towards the front closet.

"Wait," I told her, escaping. "I'll be right back."

I turned towards the guest room, but Wendy had beaten me to it. She came out with a shopping bag containing all my things from the guest room. She crossed the room and kissed me on the check before ushering me back towards Veronica. Veronica led the way to the front closet, opened it, and asked me, "Which coat is yours?" Then she stopped and looked at my ears. "Did Victoria give you her earrings?"

My hands flew to my ears. "Oh no! I almost left with them. I started to pull them out, but Veronica stepped up to me and took my hands away. "Let me." Gently she removed each earring, then reached behind my neck to unclasp the necklace.  I was rewarded with a nice view down her blouse, which I decided to appreciate. I think she did it on purpose. "I can tease too," she told me.

She reached past me and handed the jewelry to a waiting Victoria. She set my coat over my shoulders like a shawl, which I thought was odd. Victoria hugged me. Wendy hugged me. Then Wendy held out the shopping bag to me, and they ushered us out the door.

As soon as we were in the hallway alone, Veronica proceeded to press me against the wall and kissed me again. She ended the kiss far too quickly.

I looked at her, my heart pounding. Then she started looking into her purse and pulled out a serious looking pair of handcuffs.

My eyes grew wide.

She dangled them from one finger in front of me while watching my expression.

"Put those away before someone sees them," I told her.

"Hold out your wrists," she responded.

"Veronica," I whined. "We're in public."

"Hold out your wrists."

"I can't," I said. "I'm holding my packages."

"Set them down and hold out your wrists," she ordered. She stepped closer. "Now."

I looked back and forth between her eyes and the handcuffs dangling from her wrists. My heart was pounding, and I got an image of what she might do with me. I imagined myself, still in the corset and handcuffs, but having lost the skirt and stockings, pressed against a wall while she kissed me.

I lowered the shopping bag to the floor and meekly held out my wrists. With her eyes never leaving mine, Veronica reached out and slowly closed the cuffs around my wrists, letting them tighten one click at a time while she watched my expression. I closed my eyes for a moment as they clicked tight. "I don't have the key with me," she said. "It's at home."

Then she picked up my shopping bag and dropped both our purses into it. She transferred the shopping bag to one hand and reached out with the other to curl a finger around the chain attaching the two cuffs. She began to drag me to the elevator while I followed meekly behind her.

I decided she had a lovely ass.

I was sure someone was going to see us during the walk to her car. We had to go outside, but she let me lower my hands in front of me, and I think the cuffs weren't too obvious. She led me to her car, unlocked it, then pressed me against the passenger door and kissed me. It was a brief kiss, and I was shivering.

She opened the door and held it for me while I climbed in awkwardly.

* * *

Veronica lived just outside downtown. She rented space in a converted warehouse. The city had been converting the old warehouse district for 20 years, taking what had become a derelict portion of town and turning it upscale. It was another four-story building. Veronica had one of the units on the top floor and she told me that her company occupied another suite on the same floor. She said something about zoning ordinances that I didn't understand.

Parking was again underground. We parked and Veronica came around to my side and helped me out of the car. She kissed me again, grinding herself into me, so I wrapped my handcuffed arms around her neck and kissed her back as passionately as I knew how. My heart hadn't stopped pounding.

She fetched the shopping bag, locked the car, then again dragged my by the handcuffs to the elevator. The ride up involved more kissing, this time with her hand on my ass. I felt severely handicapped and frustrated I couldn't treat her the same way.

We made it to her apartment door without being seen. She unlocked it and pulled me inside, then locked the door behind me. She pulled my coat off my shoulders and hung it up in the closet, then hung up her own. Then she grabbed the chain of the handcuffs again and dragged me deeper into the apartment.

The space was amazing. It was clearly a converted warehouse. The ceilings were twenty feet high and there were huge beams that looked like they were each the better part of large oak trees. The space was similar to Wendy and Victoria's, but also quite different. Wendy and Victoria's had clearly always been apartments. This space clearly had been a warehouse. But I could see a common design touch to both spaces after their conversions.

Hanging on chains from the beams were several potted plants. Veronica led me to the middle of the space, then removed one of the plants from its hanger and set it on the floor to the side. Then she turned back to me with what was an especially predatory look. Watching me the whole time, she slowly removed the scarf from around her neck. Then she stepped up to me, caressed me once with the scarf, and then wrapped it once around the chain of the handcuffs. She tugged on the scarf, which tugged on the handcuffs, which drew me after them, and she pulled me until I was standing underneath where the plant had been. She then used both hands to tie the scarf to a metal loop at the end of the chain, drawing the scarf tight until my arms were stretched above my head. She tied it off and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

I looked up at the chain, the scarf, and the handcuffs. I had to stretch to avoid resting my weight on the metal, as otherwise the cuffs dug into my wrists uncomfortably. She smiled as she watched me figure out my predicament.

She walked around me, drawing close as she stepped behind me, cupping my bottom and whispering into my ear. "Delicious," she said. It was the first word she'd spoken since we arrived.

I shivered.

She stepped away and walked around in front of me again.

"I need to ask you something," she told me.

I nodded.

"Are you just teasing me?"

"No."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"

She began to prowl around me again, not saying anything. I tried turning my body to watch her, but she growled at me. "Face the way I placed you."

She could tell I was thinking of disobeying. She stepped up very close to me, looking down into my nervous eyes.

"I make the rules," she said. "And rule number one is this: if you disobey me, I get to punish you." She let me think about it. "Do you have a problem with that rule?"

I stared into her eyes then looked at her lips. I wanted her to kiss me again.

Then I turned back to face the way I'd started. "No, Veronica, I don't have a problem with rule number one."

She patted my bottom then reached over to cup my chin and draw my head around. Our lips met and she kissed me from around my arm, her other hand continuing to rub my bottom.

She broke the kiss, then turned my head back to face forward.

"I asked you," she said, "whether you understood what I was going to do to you."

"Yes," I said. Then, "No."

"Which is it?" she asked, breathing on the back of my neck.

"You're going to make love to me," I told her.

"Yes, I am, if you want me to."

Her fingers started touching me, finding the exposed skin. There was a lot of that. She caressed my arms, my shoulders, the back of my neck. I squirmed.

"What else am I going to do?" she asked.

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Have you ever been tied up before?"

"Yes," I said. "Once."

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed. "I was under the impression you hadn't done this before."

"I haven't," I protested. "It was innocent. They taped me with duct tape and tickled me. That's all."

"They?" she asked. "More than one?"

"Four girls in my dorm," I said. "Only one just watched and made sure no one hurt me."

"Your roommate?"

I nodded.

"Did you like it?" she asked in a whisper, her breath caressing my ear.

"Oh god yes," I said. "I don't know why, but yes."

"Do Wendy and Victoria know the story?" I nodded.

She stepped away for a moment. "And thus the remaining pieces click into place," she said. I didn't understand at the time. Then she walked around and stood in front of me.

"They told me you're a virgin," she said.

I blushed, but nodded.

"You don't have the vaguest clue what you're getting into."

I shook my head and looked at her imploringly. "That's not true," I told her. "If I'm still a virgin an hour from now, I'm going to be deeply disappointed."

She began prowling around me again. During one of her passes, she came close to me and kissed me deeply. I moaned and almost sagged against the cuffs but straightened back up. She pulled away and looked at my wrists then back at me.

"I'm not just going to take your virginity," she told me. "I'm going to take you. I'm going to make you squirm. I'm going to make you beg." I closed my eyes as she talked.

"Before I'm finished with you, you will beg to belong to me."

"Veronica," I told her. "I've been yours from the moment the cuffs closed around my wrists." A tear started down my cheek. I didn't quite know why I was crying. "I'm not going to change my mind."

"Oh honey," she said stepping up to me and wiping the tear away. "I won't hurt you. Do I need to let you go?"

"Veronica, don't you dare. Please. Kiss me, then start doing all those things you've been promising me."

So finally she did. She pulled me into her arms and entered into a kiss. I knew I tasted a little salty, but it had just been a couple of tears. Her lips ravaged my mouth while her arms were wrapped around me, her hands on my shoulder blades as she pulled me to her.

I couldn't move, but I kissed her back as thoroughly as I could.

She pulled away, then walked around behind me and kissed the back of my neck. Her fingers found the zipper of the skirt, and it was just a few moments before the skirt gathered around my ankles. She helped me step out of it then whisked it away, setting it neatly on her sofa. She walked back towards me, circling me again, looking at my legs. Again she stepped up behind me, and her fingers played with my bottom. She kissed my ear.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked me.

"Please stop asking that," I told her.

Her hands moved around my waist, her fingers inside my undies. She still stood behind me, but her fingers began to dip inside the front of my panties. She stopped with her hand resting over my sex, leaving little to my imagination.

"No one has touched you here before," she said. "Are you sure you want me to be the first?"

"Yes," I said. "Stop asking, Veronica! Stop teasing and do it!"

I was squirming, trying to force her hand, but I had absolutely no mobility.

"Oh no," she told me. "There will be no end of teasing." She withdrew her hands and I almost screamed in frustration, but she kept her hands on me as she walked around to face me.

"You can make all the noise you want," she told me. "The walls are quite sound proof. I made sure of that." She pulled me into another crushing kiss, then released me and walked around behind me again. I felt her fingers at my hips, the fingertips sliding inside my panties again. She stepped up towards my left, but still standing behind me, her right hand locked inside my panties, resting on my hip, and her left began sliding down in front, but on the outside of my panties. She began to caress me, and it was only moments before I felt the panties become damp. She pressed them into me with her fingers, teasing. Leaned my head back, trying to see her, but with my arms over my head, I couldn't even do that.

"I'm starting to believe you like this," she told me. I knew exactly what she meant.

Then her fingers gave an especially expert flick and I moaned out loud, sagging against her, jerking my wrists into the handcuffs painfully. I flinched from the discomfort and stood back up.

"I'm not a nice woman," she told me, her fingers continuing to tease me. I was squirming from the touches. "You keep trying to take control. You keep trying to rush this. But when you try, it hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," I said. "Oh god, but don't stop."

"Who is in control?" she asked me.

"You are!" I said. Her fingers flicked me again and I moaned.

"Who do you want to be in control?" she asked.

"You. Oh god, you." That earned another especially lovely flick.

"And tell me, lovely Shane, what do you want me to do with you?"

Her fingers pressed into me, then stopped moving, but just the pressure was exquisite. I tried squirming but winced when the cuffs dug in.

"What do you want me to do to you, Shane?"

"Anything!" I said. "Whatever you want, Veronica. Please. Just don't stop."

She pulled her hands away and kissed me deeply, then walked away.

"Veronica! What are you doing?"

She came back and she was holding a small key in her hand. She let me see it. Then she reached up and inserted it into the handcuffs over my head.

"Veronica," I whimpered. "What are you doing?"

"Releasing you," she told me.

"What? No! I don't want you to."

"Hush, soon to be lover," she told me, pressing her fingers against my lips. "I'm not letting you go. I just don't like seeing you damage yourself."

And with that, she unlocked my wrists, leaving the handcuffs swinging from the chain. She massaged my wrists for me then kissed each hand.

She kissed me again, pulling me into her arms, with her fingers on my bottom. I wrapped my arms around her and gave as good as I got. Then she pushed me away and roughly turned me around.

"And now I'm done waiting," she said. "I want to see the rest of you." She started untying the laces of the corset. When it was loose, she helped me step out of it and set it on the sofa with the skirt. I was still facing away from her, and I continued to stand there just wearing my panties, the stockings, and still in the heels.

"Turn around," she ordered.

She was sitting on the sofa watching me. As I turned to face her, she licked her lips. I'd never seen anyone who looked so lovely.

"Come to me," she ordered, and I walked slowly to stand in front of her.

As I got close, she pulled me to her, and her mouth wrapped around one of my nipples. I was surprised and arched my back, which did nothing but thrust my breast more firmly into her mouth. Her tongue flicked against the nipple, then I felt her teeth teasing at it gently, and it was an exquisite fire I'd never felt before. Then she shifted, and the other nipple found itself receiving the same treatment.

Finally she pushed me away. I cried out, whimpering. She reached out one hand for my hand and used the other to tap her knee. "Foot," she said.

She helped me balance while I lifted my foot to her knee. She unbuckled the shoe and slowly removed it then the stocking before setting my foot back down. Then she tapped her knee again and I offered the other foot. Once my second foot was free I was down to just my panties. She hadn't removed a stitch of her own clothing yet, and I longed to see her take something off.

Instead she stood up, turned away and began walking to her bedroom. "Come," she ordered, and I immediately followed behind her. When we arrived in her bedroom, she turned around.

"Stand right there," she ordered. "Lace your fingers together at the back of your head." I did what she told me, moving slowly. She stepped up to me and adjusted my arms, then stepped back.

"If you move, I will punish you." She gave me a moment to think about it. She walked away to her dresser, opened the top drawer, and removed something. "Do you want to know how?"

I shook my head. "I promise I won't move."

She stepped up behind me. "What I will do is tie you to the bed, on your stomach, with your arms and legs spread out as far as they will go." She stepped even closer and her tone changed. "You're going to flinch in a moment, Shane, but do your best to stand as still as you can."

"Oh god," I said.

"I will tie you to the bed, and then I will spend twenty minutes doing this to you."

On my bottom I felt something that felt like a pin press against me. It was sharp. And then it began to move, and it felt like a wheel of pins against my skin.

She was right, I flinched. She let me, actually pulling the pins away from me while I recovered my composure. Then she began again. Knowing what to expect, I was able to stand still, mostly. The wheel of pins moved up my bottom to my back, then up my sides. It was almost too much to bear.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm trying not to move."

"I know you are, Shane," she said softly. And then the pins pulled away and she caressed my bottom. "Recover yourself." She set whatever it was she had back in her dresser and returned to me.

"No more moving, Shane," she told me. "Not one inch. No squirming. No trying to take control. I was nice just now, but imagine twenty minutes of that."

I stood as straight as I could and as still as I could. She gave me a moment, and then her hand reached around me and slipped inside my undies. I gasped, but I didn't move.

Then her fingers slipped inside me and I sagged for just a moment but immediately straightened up. "I'm sorry," I said.

"Hush."

And then her fingers began moving. Just two fingers, but they knew what they were doing.

I started to pant. It was so hard to not squirm. "Oh god," I said. "Oh god, Veronica."

She whispered in my ear. "You may call me Roni when we're making love, but my name the rest of the time is Veronica. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Roni!" I said. Her fingers hadn't stopped moving.

"And you will not call for God during lovemaking with me, Shane. You may call for me, but no one else."

"Yes, Roni!" I panted.

She continued stroking her fingers inside of me for a moment, then withdrew them. "If you move, remember what happens," she warned me.

"Yes, Roni. I won't move."

With that, she slipped her fingers inside the waistband of my panties again then slowly slid them down my legs. "Step out of them, Shane," she ordered. I did so and she walked over to her dresser, depositing my panties there. "These are mine now," she told me. "When I finally let you leave, you'll be wearing a pair I give you."

I nodded but continued to stand still, my hands still laced behind my head, my elbows back. She hadn't given me permission to move.

She came back to me and walked around me again, then she stood in front of me, tapping her lip with one finger. I watched her and wondered what she'd do next.

She came to a decision, as she walked around behind me then whispered into my ear. "Let's talk about what you want, Shane," she said.

"Okay."

"You want me to kiss you."

"Yes."

"You want my fingers back inside you."

"Yes, Roni," I moaned.

She caressed the skin of my back and I shivered.

"You want me in control."

"Yes." It was a whisper.

"You want me to tie you back up so you can't move."

I paused.

"Let's try this again," she said. She stepped very close to me, her fingers touching my sides, stroking, caressing. "Ordering you not to move is very hard for you, isn't it?" I nodded. "You keep wanting to move, but you know the price of disobedience." I nodded again. "If I tie you up, then you can't disobey. I've taken the choice from you, right?" I nodded again. "Tell me, when do you think I have more control. When I control just your body by tying you up, or when I also control your mind by making you behave by choice?"

"When I obey," I told her after a moment.

She kissed my shoulder, then her fingers slid around and slipped inside me again. I jumped and almost screamed before I found my self-control again. Her fingers started to move and I began panting again.

"Now," she said. "I am going to make a statement as if you were saying it. If it's true or if it accurately represents what you want, you will repeat it."

"Yes, Roni."

"You may at any time repeat as often as you want any of the statements I've said to you, but you may not say anything else at all. Now you will say Yes, Roni."

"Yes, Roni," I said. "Yes, yes, Roni."

"You are in control, Roni," she prompted.

"Yes, Roni," I said. "You are in control."

Her fingers stopped moving, but she didn't withdraw them. "You don't follow directions very well. You keep rewording things."

"I'm-" I started to apologize. "You are in control, Roni."

She laughed. "Almost blew it," she said.

"Yes, Roni."

"I'll allow the rephrasing, Shane." Her fingers started moving again. "I want to be yours, Roni,"

"I want to be yours, Roni," I repeated. I felt things beginning to build, and it was becoming harder and harder to not squirm.

The phrases started coming faster, her fingers moving in time with my panting. "I want to be yours," was followed by "I am yours." She kept moving her fingers but stopped prompting me, but I found myself repeating the phrases over and over, faster and faster.

Then she threw a new one at me. "Let me be your slave, Roni."

I stumbled over that one, but her fingers kept moving as long as I repeated the other phrases. The pressure was building and building, and suddenly I exploded against her hand, screaming her name over and over.

Her hand slowed then just held me for a moment before withdrawing. She came around and stood in front of me. "You may move now, Shane."

I collapsed into her arms, whispering her name over and over, still panting. She pulled me to the bed and we climbed on top of the covers, cuddling. She murmured gently at me while the waves of bliss continued to shudder through me.

Then for a while, she just held me, my head on her chest. She caressed me gently. Eventually I pulled away a little so I could look up at her. "Am I allowed to talk now?"

She caressed my hair. "Yes, Shane. I'm sorry, I should have released you."

I cuddled back into her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Love," she said.

I snuggled in closer. She caressed my hair, and we just lay together for several minutes, not talking.

"You were my first," I said quietly. She kissed the top of my head but didn't say anything. I didn't know what she was thinking, but it felt tender. I waited a minute or two then asked, "Are you going to do that again?"

"Oh yes," she said. "If you let me."

I purred. We cuddled. She petted me.

"Am I going to do that to you?"

"I hope so," she told me. "But not tonight."

"What?" I pulled away so I could see her face.

"Not tonight," she said again. "Tonight is about me being in control and you surrendering to me."

"Oh." I thought about it, watching her face, then snuggled back in. "I'm not sure I'm okay with that."

"Tough."

"But I want you to be happy," I told her.

"Don't be stupid," she told me sharply. "I haven't been this happy in a very long time."

I pulled away again, searching her face for duplicity. She was smiling softly and looked radiant. "You're so beautiful," I told her

She pulled me closely back to her breast again and continued to stroke my skin wherever she could reach.

"Roni?"

"Yes, Shane?"

"Do all my questions annoy you?"

She laughed. "Are they honest questions?"

"Yes."

"You may ask all the honest questions you ever have," she told me. "But if you start asking questions just to push my buttons-"

"You'll punish me?"

"Yes."

We cuddled. She knew I wasn't done asking questions. I had dozens flitting through my head, and it was just a matter of seeing which ones landed long enough for me to ask.

"Roni?"

"Yes, my pet?"

Her response drove my question right out of my head. I grew still.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," I said. "Just..." I paused. "Am I really your pet?"

"I'd like you to be," she said. "Is that okay?"

In response, as if it were even possible, I snuggled closer. "Yes," I said quietly.

I felt her sigh. I stiffened, and she said, "That was a happy sigh, Shane."

I thought about it all for a while. "I don't know how to behave," I told her. "I don't know how to be your, well, your pet. Or your anything else."

"Shane, listen to me very carefully." She paused. "Are you listening?"

"Yes, Roni."

"I want you to be yourself. I want you to be whoever you are, whoever you want to be. I don't want an act. I don't want you to wonder what's okay. I just want you to be you. If you try to change yourself into what you think I want, you'll disappoint me terribly. Okay?"

I started to pull away to look at her, and she stopped me for a moment, but then she relaxed and she let me look at her.

I tear crawled down my cheek.

"Oh honey," she said.

"No, wait. I need to say this right." I thought about it then I realized I might be jumping to one too many conclusions. "Did you mean all that, literally and truly?"

"Yes, Shane. Every word, exactly as I said it."

I thought about it and she let me. "You're only the second person to ever tell me something like that, that all she wanted was for me to be myself. My parents were constantly trying to mold me into someone they could approve of, especially my father, and I still don't know who I am because I've spent so long trying to please them. Teachers, friends, everyone has an idea of what they want you to be. So only twice has anyone told me she wanted me to be myself, and I'm not sure the first one was real."

She reached up and wiped a tear away. "Are you going to tell me about this other person?"

"Someday maybe."

She nodded. "Well, Love. I'm real. And I'm serious. I want you to be who you are. I want you to become who you want to become. I'll be disappointed if that someone doesn't treat herself well, but from looking at you, that's not at all you, is it?"

"No, it's not."

"The person that is you, she wants to be here, with me, at least right now, yes?" I nodded. "And that person, did she like what I did to her?"  I nodded again. "Would she have wanted it any differently?"

I grinned. "Yes," I told her then cuddled in again, smiling.

"In what way?"

"I want you wearing fewer clothes, and I want to watch you undress."

She laughed. "If you promise to behave, you can unbutton the top two buttons on my blouse."

"Only two?" I asked, pouting.

"For now," she said.

"I promise," I said, then slowly reached up and began unbuttoning her blouse. I undid the second button, and Veronica caught my hand, slipping my fingers inside her blouse so they lay across the top of her breast, then held me hand there with hers.

We stayed like that for a while, not talking. My thoughts were still going a mile a minute. Eventually she asked me, "It's late, are you tired?"

"Yes," I said. "But I'm too wired to sleep."

She pushed me over. "Roll onto your back." I did, and then she rearranged the pillows so I was comfortable.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Hush," she said. "No more questions now. In fact, you may now only repeat those phrases I taught you earlier, and you are not to move. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Roni," I told her.

She got off the bed. I followed her with my eyes. She went to her closet, rummaged around for a minute, then returned holding some things in her hands. All I could see is they were black and looked like they were made from cloth.

She moved to the side of the bed, looking down at me, still holding one of the items she'd gotten from the closet. She held it up so I could see it. I'd been mistaken. It was leather, not cloth. I didn't know what it was and shook my head.

She took my right wrist, wrapped the leather around it, and did something, and then produced a small lock and locked it to a metal hoop poking through the leather. She released my hand and let me look at what she had done.

"Try to take it off," she told me. So I did. I could slide it around on my wrist, but I couldn't take it off. It wouldn't slide over my hand and I couldn't unwrap it. "Give me your other wrist," she ordered once I'd given up. I did, and she wrapped that wrist as well, securing it with another lock.

"These are wrist cuffs," she said. "Do you know what advantage they have over the handcuffs?"

I shook my head.

"You can wear them for a much much longer amount of time and remain comfortable."

She let that sink in, watching my expression.

"Do you want me to stop?"

I ran through the list of phrases I was allowed. None of them were "No". She smiled sweetly, waiting for my answers.

"I want to be yours, Roni,"

She laughed, then she roughly grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the bed. She snapped some sort of leash to the wrist cuff and tied it off to the frame of the bed. I could move that arm but only barely. Then she leaned over me, laying on top of me, grabbed my other wrist and, still laying on top of me crosswise, tethered the second wrist the same way she did the first.

She adjusted herself so that she was straddling me, looking down at me.

"You're so beautiful," I told her.

"That's not one of your phrases," she told me. She looked down at me while I smiled sweetly up at her. I wondered if she was going to punish me. "Cheeky girl," she said finally. She plastered herself on top of me, kissing me deeply. We were both panting when she broke the kiss.

Then she turned around and lay down across my legs. I felt her wrap a cuff around each ankle, then she climbed off the bed, attached a leash to the left leg, and pulled it stretched to the side before securing the leash to the bed frame. It was only a matter of seconds before the right leg matched the left.

She admired her handiwork, then sat on the bed next to me. Her fingers slowly crawled across my leg until they were centered over my sex again. Her fingers started playing with my hairs while she looked at me. Ever few seconds, her fingers grew more intimate with me. They slipped inside my lower lips and began to tease my little nub. I squirmed.

"Cheeky girl," she said again. "One more disallowed comment..." Her fingers slid all the way inside me. "And you're going to find out what this feels like if I use ice."

I gasped. "Yes, Roni!" I said. "I am yours."

"Good girl," she said, her fingers continuing to work their magic. My squirming intensified, which seemed to amuse Veronica.

But then she removed her hand and I stifled a protest.

"You wanted me wearing fewer clothes," she explained. "And I've decided I prefer to wear fewer clothes, too." She got off the bed but stood where I could watch her.

"You may watch," she said. "But remember the ice."

And then she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, slid out of it, then carefully folded it and set it atop the dresser. She slid out of her skirt and folded it as well. She removed her panty hose but kept her undies on. Then she turned her back on me and removed her bra. She disappeared into the closet. When she returned, she was wearing a black, silk camisole

She crossed the room until she was standing at the foot of the bed.

Her hands reached out and found my feet.

"Roni?" I asked.

She began very gently tickling the bottoms of my feet. It tickled, and I squirmed like crazy, but it felt really good at the same time.

The tickling moved to long, light caresses, up and down my sides all the way from my wrists to my arm pits and all the way down to my ankles. She did one side, then the other, then sat on the bed and did both sides together.

I squirmed.

"Mine?" she asked me. I nodded.

Then she rolled on top of me and kissed me, her tongue seeking entry. I opened my lips, and her tongue slipped in, first flicking against my lips, then teasing past my teeth to dance with my own tongue. I moaned and squirmed.

She withdrew, then began kissing down my body. She lavished my nipples for a while, and I arched my back and said her name over and over.

Then her lips moved further down. She teased my belly button while her fingers gently tickled my sides. She moved her mouth to my pelvis and I began to wonder what she was doing.

When her tongue began playing with my little nub, I arched my back and screamed her name. When her tongue slipped inside me, her lips pressed against mine, I kept screaming her name.

I thrashed as her tongue and her lips brought me further and further until finally I exploded against her mouth. Each shudder was exquisite and brought further pleasures, which brought further shudders. Eventually I fell back to the bed, exhausted and spent. She kissed me once more, then began working her way back up again, this time soft, calming kisses rather than the tantalizing, playful ones.

She got to my mouth and kissed me. She tasted of both of us, a taste I'd never had before. I wonder if that was what she would taste like when I did that to her. I sucked on her tongue and on her lips before she withdrew.

I was completely spent, my muscles slack, my hair plastered wetly to my forehead. I imagined I was a fright, but she told me I was beautiful.

She climbed down off me, then unsnapped the leashes from my legs. She pulled my legs together and then I heard a click. I tugged experimentally but my legs were now shackled together.

Then she released both my wrists but clipped the two cuffs together in front of me so it looked like I was praying. After that, she helped me to stand up while she pulled down the bed covers. "Do you have contacts you need to remove or need to use the bathroom?" she asked me.

"No," I told her.

So she helped me climb into bed and pulled the covers up under my chin. She left the bedroom and I heard her move around the apartment for a few minutes. She turned lights off and spent a few minutes in the bathroom, then returned to the bedroom, turning off all the lights on the way.

She climbed into bed and rolled me over on my side so I was facing away from her, then snuggled into me, wrapping her arms around me and adjusting the covers and pillows for both of us.

"Can you sleep like this?" she asked me.

"Yes," I said, squirming against her a little.

"Stop that," she said, giggling.

I settled in, closing my eyes, and I felt her breath against my ear.

I still had questions flitting through my head, but none of them chose to land. I thought I couldn't sleep, but then I did.

Chapter 8: Learning the Ropes

I woke twice in the middle of the night. The first time, Veronica had rolled away from me and we were sleeping with our backs to each other but still touching. The second time, I was cuddling her and she was murmuring in her sleep.

I didn't wake again until there was daylight streaming in the windows. Veronica's arms were around me, but her breathing was even and I thought she was still asleep. I didn't want to wake her, but I really had to use the bathroom. I slipped out of her arms and carefully got to my feet. I shuffled slowly around the bed towards the door, trying not to trip while my feet were still tethered together.

"You can't leave," she said from the bed.

"Just the bathroom," I said. "I won't leave."

When I got to the bathroom, I found she'd left out fresh supplies for me, including a new toothbrush still in the container. I did the morning rituals, even finding a brush for my hair. Then still naked, I shuffled slowly back to the bedroom. Veronica was awake, watching me.

I sat on the bed. "I should go."

"What? No. Come back to bed."

"There's a bus in an hour," I told her.

She looked at me sadly. "You want to leave?"

"No," I said. "But I don't want to wear out my welcome."

At that point she sat up and put an arm around me. "Shane, was last night a one night stand for you?"

"Not for me, but maybe for you," I told her.

"Shane, you listen to me. You can't wear out your welcome. As far as I'm concerned, you can stay forever."

I thought about what she just told me. "You've known me for all of fourteen hours," I pointed out.

"I've been looking for you for ten years."

I didn't understand, so I backtracked. "Did you just invite me to move in with you?"

She thought about it before responding. "I guess I did. Yes, I definitely did. I know it's crazy."

I considered my words carefully. "I presume that means you're also inviting me into a relationship?"

"Oh yes," she said.

I looked away for a moment. "Would it be an exclusive relationship, or would you see other women?"

"There's no one else I want to see, and I let you to see anyone else, either."

"The invitation to move in, I presume, is dependent upon the relationship."

She nodded. "Of course."

"Is the invitation to a relationship dependent upon moving in?"

"You don't want to move in?" she asked.

"I want to know what my choices are," I told her.

"Right. Okay, moving in is dependent upon the relationship. The relationship is not dependent upon moving in." She paused. "The relationship will be exclusive or it won't be at all. I don't share."

"Can I kiss you?"

It was a lovely kiss and we both sort of melted into each other. At 19, 34 seems so old and wise, but in reality, 34 is still young sometimes, too.

"I can't move in with you," I said. "It's too far from school, and I won't drop out for you."

"Oh, of course not! How silly of me."

"My education is my first girlfriend. You'd have to share with her."

She began to smile. "And my job is mine, I guess."

I needed to make sure she understood, so I explained my schedule, and I explained that attending school functions was important to me, too.

"Is the offer still open?"

She nodded.

We didn't stop kissing for several minutes.

"I still have to go," I said after we came up for air. "I study every day, and I need a workout."

"Can you study here?"

"I could if I'd brought any of my books. I could listen to my MPEGs, but that's not enough."

"MEGs?" she asked, so I explained.

She considered everything. "So, I'll drive you to school. Will you let me work out with you?" I nodded. "We'll collect your things, clean up, and come back here. You can study here, then we have the evening together. I'll drive you back tomorrow."

My smile was interrupted by my cell phone. The sound was muffled and I remembered it was in my purse which was still in a shopping bag near the front door.

"That's Molly's ringtone," I said. "Oh my god, I was supposed to be home last night!"

I got up and almost stumbled trying to rush to the phone.

"Veronica, my phone!"

Veronica laughed but dashed around me to collect my purse. By the time she got back to me, the call had rolled to voice mail. She dug my phone out of my purse and handed it to me.

There were twelve text messages. A new one arrived as I was checking them. "In two minutes I am calling the cops! Where are you?"

I hit redial to call her back, and she answered on the first ring.

"You better be lying dead in a ditch," she told me, "or else you're dead meat."

"Oh Molly, I'm so sorry. I'm fine." I grinned at Veronica. "I just got a little tied up last night, then completely forgot to tell you. I'm so sorry."

I heard her leave our room then enter another room. "She's alive," I heard her say. "You can call off the APB." Then she was talking to me again. "This better be good, or Janice says you'll live to regret it."

"I met someone."

There was silence.

"You slept with someone on the first date?" she said. "I damn well hope he used a condom."

Veronica spoke quietly to me. "Tell her I'm sorry and I won't let you forget again."

"Molly," I said. "She says she's sorry, too. And we didn't use a condom."

"I knew it!" she said. "What's her name?"

At that question, I heard intense squealing from the background. "Just a minute," Molly said. "I can't hear you." The squealing continued for a while. Eventually Janice and Kelly calmed down and Molly got back on the line. "Okay, what's her name, and when do we meet her?"

I turned to Veronica. "They want to know your name and when they can meet you."

She pursed her lips. "Mute it," she ordered. "Just a minute, Molly, I'm muting you for a minute."

"They won't understand the age difference," Veronica told me.

"Are you having second thoughts?" I asked her.

"Don't be daft."

"Neither am I." I unmuted the phone and told Molly. "Her name is Veronica. Molly, she's older than me. In fact, she's practically ancient."

Veronica's jaw dropped down and she glared at me.

"In fact, have you ever seen the movie Harold and Maude. It's like that, except girl on girl."

"Paybacks are a bitch," Veronica said quietly.

"Yes, just like that. She has to take her teeth out at night. She laughs at my jokes though. In fact, she couldn't remember it, so I was able to tell the same joke four times last night and twice more this morning."

"You are so full of shit," Molly told me.

"Okay, you're right. Actually it's the other way around. She's only 12, but she seems so wise, almost like she's 14."

"What's really wrong with her?" Molly asked me quietly.

I looked at Veronica who was busy making tickle-my-rib gestures at me.

"Molly," I said in a quiet voice. "There's not a single thing wrong with her. She's perfect."

"You're in love," she told me.

I heard more squealing.

"I don't know," I told her. "Maybe."

"What's wrong with her," she asked me once more.

"She's older, okay? Not old, but old enough you're going to comment. So just don't, okay? I'm happy, okay?"

"You're in love," she said.

"Yeah, probably." I admitted. "I don't know. Look, we'll be there in an hour."

Veronica started gesturing, holding up two fingers. "Wait," I said. "Two hours." I giggled.

Molly and I signed off.

"Harold and Maude?" Veronica said immediately. She began tickling me. I tried hopping away, and she chased me around the apartment, tickling me, eventually herding me back to the bedroom. It didn't take long for my screeches to turn into moans of pleasure.

* * *

We both took showers afterwards, which seemed like a waste, as we'd just need another one after working out, but neither of us wanted to show up in front of Molly looking like a pair of slobs.

Veronica had lightly applied some make up, but I went with a bare face. We both got dressed, with me wearing a pair of Veronica's panties. I was perfectly happy to put on the pair I'd worn yesterday, but she refused to let me. Then I looked at the outfit that Victoria and Wendy had given me. Veronica asked me, "Will you wear it at school?" Probably not. "But you'll wear it for me." Of course. She made room in her closet for it.

During the car ride to Knightly, we chatted about small things. Veronica asked me about Molly and Janice and Kelly. That led to the story about the duct tape. She liked the idea of using cosmetics brushes. I knew I was in trouble.

I found I couldn't stop touching her. I didn't want to interfere with her driving, but I just kept touching her arm or her leg. She didn't seem to mind.

We pulled up at the dorm, and then I stopped to think for a minute. "Veronica, I'm not necessarily out here."

"Oh I think you are now."

"Oh sure, with Molly, Janice and Kelly, but they won't have told anyone else."

"So the people here that are most important to you, the ones who were worried about you, already know about our relationship?"

I nodded.

"Then that's enough for me." She paused. "But around my friends, you're my lover. Can you deal with that?"

I nodded, and we got out of the car. I thought about what she said, and we hadn't taken ten steps before I took her hand. She looked over at me. "Are you sure? There's no going back."

"I don't want to go back," I told her.

She smiled, and hand in hand, we headed to my room.

We got there and I found Molly, Janice and Kelly were all in my room waiting for us. I invited Veronica in, still holding her hand, then closed the door. The three girls stood up, not saying anything, but Molly looked at us holding hands. Then she walked up to Veronica and looked her straight in the eye.

She looked at me. She looked at my hand in Veronica's. She could see I was hanging onto Veronica as much as she was hanging onto me. Molly was the first one to speak.

"You're not so old."

I introduced everyone. Janice and Kelly hung around just long enough for introductions, then headed for the door. "Just imagine," Kelly said. "Little Miss Muffet has a girlfriend."

The door closed behind them, and Veronica raised an eyebrow at me. "Little Miss Muffet? That's not the first image that comes to mind."

I let go of her hand for the first time since taking it, went to the closet, and pulled out one of the conservative dresses. "Are you sure?"

"What is that hideous thing?" she said. Then she paused. "Which is the real Shane?"

I put the dress back. "That's the Shane my parents want to see. It's not me. But I don't know yet if the outfit from last night is the real me either." I shrugged.

Molly was watching us carefully. She was still eyeing Veronica with a little bit of suspicion. "Why are you after Shane?" she asked bluntly.

"Molly!"

"It's okay, Shane," Veronica said. "She's protecting you." She turned to Molly. "You're not serious about that question though, are you? I think it's obvious."

Molly wasn't expecting that answer. Then her eyes narrowed. "You're after her body."

"Of course I am," Veronica said. "It's a fantastic body."

"Shane is a lot more than just a hot piece of meat," Molly said, her voice rising.

"Yes, she is," Veronica agreed. "She has one of the most complicated minds I've encountered in some time. She's amazingly bright and has a fabulous sense of humor. She's sweet and innocent and blushes the most wonderful shade of red. Yet there's also something haunting her a little, but I think perhaps not in a bad way. I hope someday she'll tell me about it."

Molly harumphed. "I still am not sure I trust you," she said. "You know she works her tail off for school, and when she's not doing schoolwork, she's exercising. I don't know when she's going to have time for you."

"I have no intention of intruding on her studies. Nor do I intend to get between the two of you." Veronica paused. "I appreciate you protecting your friend. Trust takes time to build. I hope you have an open enough mind to give me the chance to earn your trust."

Molly continued to glare at her but after a moment, her stance softened. "Okay," she said. She turned to me. "Will you be gone again tonight?"

"Yes, but I'll be home tomorrow afternoon."

"When are you going to study?"

"I'm bringing everything with me. I've already explained my study habits to Veronica, although I'm not sure she fully appreciates what that really means."

"I don't?" Veronica asked. "Tell me, between your studies and working out, do you think you spend more than 60 hours a week?"

I did the math in my head. "No, probably 45 to 50."

She nodded. "That's still pretty devoted for a college student. Now, there's a joke about small business owners. When you own your own business, you only have to work half time."

Veronica paused, letting Molly and I come to our conclusions. I don't think either of us saw where she was going.

"Yes, not only that, but you even get to pick which 12 hours a day you work."

She let that sink in. Molly thought about it, smiled, and said, "I may decide to like you." Her expression turned serious. "Don't let it go to your head."

Veronica laughed. "I'm glad Shane has you for a friend."

The three of us chatted for a while longer, then Veronica and I changed into workout clothes and headed for the gym. I was used to getting checked out by the guys when I went there, but I think it amused Veronica not only to see me getting checked out, but when some of the guys were caught staring at her ass.

We had a nice workout. I had switched entirely to a toning and maintenance lifting plan, but I decided to show off. Nothing wrong with a little vanity from time to time, is there? I have good legs, but it's hard for me to actual show off my lifting with my legs. Everyone can lift a lot with their legs, after all, and I thought Veronica might be able to lift more than I could just because she's taller and not as slightly built as I am. So I had us do an upper body workout.

For upper body, I always start with shoulder lifts but then move to bench press. Normally I use weight machines when I'm alone, but for bench press I moved us to the free weights. I spotted Veronica for a set. She just lifted the bar with no weights at all. Then I put weights on for me and asked one of the guys to spot me.

"I can spot you," she said.

"I'd prefer one of the guys," I told her, calling over one of the guys. I think his name was Jim. I did a set. Veronica looked miffed, but I had a pretty good idea what I looked like while lifting that much.

Jim helped me pull all the weight off the bar and Veronica did another set.

Then Jim helped me put the weights back on but we added five more pounds to either side. I did a set, and this time I think Veronica was starting to catch on to what I was doing.

Jim and I cleared the bar and Veronica did her last set.

I pursed my lips then started putting weight back on, Jim matching me on the other side. I was a woman of course, and a small woman at that. Compared to a guy, the weight we were putting on wasn't much. But for a woman my size, it was a lot. I knew my maximum bench press weight, and that's what we put on. Then I pulled off a five pounder on my side and replaced it with a ten. Jim copied me.

"This will be a short set," I said. Then more quietly when my back was turned on Veronica and only Jim could hear me. "Just don't let me drop it but make sure I earn it." He nodded once, understanding.

I lied down and grabbed the bar. Jim stood over me and wrapped his hands around it, ready to steady it or catch it if I dropped it. I lifted the bar off the rack. Shit, it was heavy. I lowered it slowly, and I knew my chest and arms were straining. I caught a sight of Veronica watching intently, but I had to focus on what I was doing. The bar touched my chest, paused for a moment, and then the hard part came.

It was hard. It was really hard. I made some very un-lady-like noises, but I lifted it! A new max for me.

"Good!" said Jim. "One more?"

I nodded, lowered the bar, took a breath, lifted.

"Two!" said Jim.

"Done," said I, almost dropping the bar. Jim placed it back in the rack for me. I lied on the bench panting for a minute then Jim grabbed my hand and pulled me up.

"Thanks," I told him.

"New max?" I nodded. "Grats!"

By now Veronica had moved over to the bar and was counting the weights. She looked at me suspiciously then counted again. All she said was, "Shit."

I thanked Jim again. He nodded and ambled off. I sat on the bench trying not to rub my sore muscles. Veronica sat down next to me.

"You're forgiven for replacing me as your spotter. Do you always lift like that?"

I looked at her. "Roni," I said, using the name she told me I could only use when we were making love. "You know darned well I was showing off for you."

That was the last time I ever replaced Veronica with a different spotter. Which isn't to say she didn't sometimes ask a guy to spot for me just so she could watch.

We finished the workout and headed back to my dorm. I gave a mini tour of the campus as we went. Molly wasn't there when we got back. I told Veronica, "I need another shower."

"I do, too," she said. "But if we head back to my place, I have the pleasure of scrubbing your back." She leered at me, as dirty and sweaty as I was.

"Your place it is!" I said, grinning. I bustled around and grabbed my laptop and books then wondered what I would need for clothes.

"What do I need for clothes?" I asked her.

She leered again. "You don't need any as far as I'm concerned."

I laughed. "We aren't going out tonight? A party, a dinner? Do I need to bring an evening dress?"

"You left your LBD at my place already," she pointed out. "Did you want to go out tonight?" she looked disappointed, then brightened up. "Not that I don't mind showing you off."

"Am I a trophy?"

"Oh definitely," she said.

I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I decided to sit on it.

I ended up packing two changes of casual clothes, one for today, one for tomorrow. Veronica helped me carry things to her car and we set off.

"Have you collected other trophies?" I asked her once we were back on the road.

She glanced over at me to see if I was serious but primarily kept her attention on the road.

"Yes," she said. "A few. I've been around the block. You knew that. Is it a problem?"

"No." I thought about it then said in a small voice. "Am I just a trophy? Mount me on a wall for a while, then store me in the closet and find a new one?"

She actually jerked the car to a stop on the shoulder of the highway, put it in park, then turned to glare at me. She looked angry. I didn't back down but just looked her straight in the eye.

"I. Am. Playing. For. Keeps." she said. "Quite frankly, to suggest you might deserve less is insulting to you. To suggest I'd play games with you is insulting to me."

"We just met. How do you know I'm what you want?"

"I, unlike you," she said, "have been around the block more than once. I, unlike you, have had numerous lovers in my bed. Male and female, although no males for a very long time. I, unlike you, have had ample opportunity to identify the traits I like and don't like in a partner. You have the greatest number of the positive traits I value that I've ever encountered while displaying the least number of negative traits. However, you also have two large flaws that I hope do not prove to be fatal to the relationship."

"What?"

"Well for one, your utter lack of self confidence."

"I have plenty of self confidence."

"And the second is your age."

"You knew my age before you took me home last night."

"Right, but while I know what I want, you are still figuring out what you want. A few years from now, you could perhaps accurately say that I'm your dream woman. But until a few months ago, you didn't even know it was a dream woman you should be looking for. You don't know what you want."

"I know what I want," I said in a small voice. I looked away, then looked her directly in the eye. "In fact, I know exactly what I want."

She raised an eyebrow. "Care to share, oh suddenly great and wise one?"

"Don't mock me. And yes, I care to share. I want a woman." I looked her up and down in a very obvious fashion. "Check. In spades. I want respect." It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. I didn't wait for her to comment, but I think I made my point. "I want someone worthy of respecting." I felt this, too, led to the self-evident conclusion. Veronica was amazing, after all. "I want love. I want to feel safe." I paused. "I want someone who I can talk to, who will be a friend even when we're not in bed, who knows things I don't but also values hearing about the things I know." I licked my lips and caught my breath for a moment. "I want someone who takes care of herself as well as the things around her. I want someone I can trust, someone I know won't hurt me, someone I know is loyal to not only me but also her friends." I thought about it further. "I want someone who will tell me when I'm being an idiot without making me feel badly about it. I want someone who can dance and is okay if sometimes I lead. And she damned well better treat me with kindness."

Then I smiled. "None of that is negotiable. But if, after all that, she's also able to make me scream her name over and over in bed, that's a bonus."

By this time, Veronica was just staring at me.

"Now, do you think perhaps I have at least a rough idea what I want? Do you think I've described anyone in this car?"

In response, she reached over to me and pulled me into a kiss.

"I'm playing for keeps," she said again. "Now that I've caught you, I intend to keep you. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes."

* * *

We got back to her place. We did indeed shower together, but she wouldn't let me play. "If we start, you'll never get to study, and I want you this evening without any distractions."

I consoled myself by washing her. It was the first time my hands had been free to touch her so thoroughly. It was amazing just touching her.

When it was time to study, she took me next door to her company office suite, setting me up in a spare office. "If anyone comes in, just send them next door to me." I got a quick tour, which included her office. I eyed the desk.

"With all that stuff on it," I asked her. "Where are you going to throw me when we make love in here?"

"One of us is not a teenager who is unable to control her passions long enough to walk next door," she told me, laughing.

"I can control my passions," I muttered. "I just don't know why I would want to."

I studied until 3 minutes shy of 6 PM, then gathered all my things and was back in Veronica's apartment just as the clock struck 6. She was puttering in the kitchen. I walked straight to her, threw my arms around her, and gave her the best kiss I could.

"Happy one day anniversary," I told her after our tongues had played with each other for a while. "It has been exactly 24 hours since we met."

She laughed.

"It's been an amazing 24 hours," I went on. "24 hours ago, you didn't know my name. We met. We talked. We danced."

"I've been meaning to ask you," she said, interrupting me. "I know a lot of kids these days are leaning to swing dance, but where did you learn to Argentine tango? I thought I knew all the tango dancers in town."

I thought about it then realized I had no memories of learning to dance. I had images of dancing, but nothing solid. So dance wasn't a Shane skill, and it was a carry over from my earlier life. "Remember I mentioned last night someone who told me to be myself?" Veronica nodded. "It's wrapped up in the same story. I promise I'll tell you some day."

"So, where was I? We danced. We kissed. And then you wrapped handcuffs around my wrists." I paused, savoring the memory. I hoped it wasn't too long before she did it again. She was looking at me with a hungry look, which may have been a desire for food but I hoped was a desire for me.

"You drove me wild. And wild. And wild. We slept, we touched, we talked. And we made some serious promises. All in the first 24 hours."

"Too much?" she asked.

"Hell no," I said. "I'm wondering what we're going to do in the next 24 hours to top it."

"Well," she said slowly, eyeing me up and down. "Last night was pretty tame by my standards but full of new experiences for you. I'm not sure you're ready for me to spice it up."

In response, I unbuttoned the top button of my blouse. Her eyes followed my movements.

"Are you sure?" I asked in a breathy voice as I unbuttoned the second button.

"Dinner is ready," she said in response. "The table is set." She started setting things on the counter. "Please take these to the table."

I picked up a basket of bread and muttered underneath my breath, "Chicken shit."

"I just spent the last two hours cooking," she said quietly. "I don't do it very often. I'm trying to impress you. I want us to eat while the food is hot."

I looked back at her. "I love you." Before she could respond, I retreated to the dining room with the bread.

"What!?" I heard her say from the kitchen.

"You heard me," I said when I came back, then scampered away with a plate of asparagus and set it on the table.

"That's lust you're feeling," she said after me.

I came back again. "You're suggesting I can't feel both?" I asked before taking a platter of roast chicken to the table.

"You're a very cheeky girl," she told me when I fetched the salad. When I returned for the bottles of dressing, I had unbuttoned two more buttons of my blouse. She noticed. I came back and there wasn't anything else to fetch except her.

"What are you drinking?" I asked her.

"Water," she replied. I fetched two glasses of water and took them to the table. When I came back she was still standing at the counter looking stunned.

I walked around her, got behind her and started pushing her to the dining room table. That got her moving, but that didn't stop me from pushing. It was fun pushing her around.

"Cheeky girl," she said again as she sat down.

"True," I said, thrusting my chin out. I grabbed the salad bowl and served both her plate and then my own. I did the same with the vegetables and the chicken. Then I took a piece of bread, buttered it, and set it on the edge of her plate before buttering one for myself.

I took a bite of my bread then began cutting up my chicken. I then spread the chicken over the top of the salad before taking a combined bite. It was really good!

She was watching me.

"Will you teach me how to cook?" I asked her. "Or should I ask Victoria?"

"Of course I will," she said. "But who do you think taught me? I can teach you the basics, but you'll need to go to Victoria for more than that."

She began eating. We ate quietly for a while. I ate slowly, savoring the food. Veronica ate slowly, clearly lost in thought. "Do you really?" she asked me eventually.

"I think so. I'm not sure." She looked sad at that. "I can't stop thinking about you. That was the worst study session I've ever had."

"I'm sorry," she said. But I don't think she was.

"I can't wait to tell you everything about me, but I'm so worried you'll get bored with me if I do. And I want to know everything about you. I want to understand your business, and what you were like as a little girl. I want to talk to you about my thoughts for the future, and ask your advice. And now I'm thinking about the first time I make a really good meal for you. You'll come home thinking we're going to have to eat take out Chinese or take me out, and I'll have spent the afternoon right here, cooking for you."

I took a breath. "That doesn't even consider the things I hope you'll do to me, and teach me to do to you. And don't think I didn't hear what you called me last night. You were subtle, but you called me Love. I also remember what you tried to get me to tell you last night, but I couldn't." I thought about it. "I don't know what it means, what it implies. But I know this. If you put any effort into it at all, you'll have me begging to say that to you, and when I do, I'll know what it means, and I'll never want anything more in my entire life."

I looked down, speared my mixed chicken and salad, then waved it at her.

"And then you said you worked hard to impress me, and I was overcome with another thought. You care how I feel about you." I ate the chicken, enjoying it. I took a drink of water, then looked at her again. "So I don't know. What do you think? Does all that sound like love to you?"

She nodded then opened her mouth to say something, but I interrupted her. "And I'll tell you something else. I intend to remain a cheeky girl. I am going to be a complete, total handful for you. You told me to be myself. Well, that's who I am going to be. I'm going to love watching you tame me, but I'll never be tame."

This time I let her answer. She'd been smiling for a while. "Tonight. The things I am going to do to you." Then, so I knew it wasn't just an accident, she added, "Love."

I smiled back and returned to the dinner. But the next time she looked over at me, I'd unbuttoned another button.

"Cheeky girl," she said.

"You better believe it."

We finished the meal with small talk. I cleared the table. Veronica tried to help me, but I told her, "You cooked." I cleared the table, put all the leftover food away as best I could, then rinsed the dishes and started the dishwasher. I exited the kitchen saying, "Is there any desert?"

"Oh yes, there most certainly is," she said in a sultry voice. She was sitting in her chair, but had turned it sideways to the table and was dangling a wrist cuff from one finger. "Come here, cheeky girl."

I walked slowly to her, casually unbuttoning the sixth button of my blouse. There was only one more to go. I stood in front of her with my hands on my hips, looking down on her as she was sitting in the chair.

"Turn around," she ordered.

"Isn't this a better view?" I asked. My shirt wasn't exactly falling open, but my breasts were peeking out. If I could have, I would have removed the bra when she wasn't looking, but it was too late now.

"It's a very nice view," she said. "Turn around."

I did, but left my hands on my hips. I resisted the urge to wriggle my ass at her.

She reached out and wrapped a cuff around one wrist. I heard the lock click shut. She did the other wrist, then pulled my hands from my hips and locked the two cuffs together with my hands behind my back. Then she put her hands on my hips and turned me around to face her again.

"Kneel down," she ordered. "And kiss my feet."

I looked down at her feet. They were lovely. I imagined myself kneeling in front of her, kissing them. I rather liked the image. I looked back to her and said, "no."

"What?"

I thrust out my chin. "Make me."

"Kiss them now or I will punish you."

"No."

She sprang to her feet, spun me around before I could react, and grabbed my wrists by the cuffs. She lifted my arms, which caused me to bend over, then began dragging me backwards into the bedroom. I had little choice but to follow along obediently, although I tried struggling feebly. But struggling hurt and following her didn't.

She dragged me that way to her dresser, picked something up off the top, then started pushing me forward and onto the bed, where I fell forward face down. She followed me, never releasing my wrists. Soon she was sitting on my ass, pushing me into the bed, with my wrists lifted away from my back enough that I couldn't get any leverage.

Then she lifted my wrists further. It hurt. Not a lot, but the threat was there.

"I can tie you like this then get a scissors to cut off your clothes. This is a pretty blouse and I'd rather not ruin it. Or you can lie still. The choice is yours."

"I'll behave," I told her. I liked this blouse, too.

She released my hands slowly, ready to reassert control if I suddenly struggled. But I'd promised to behave. She crawled off me slowly just enough to reach underneath me and unbutton the remaining button of the blouse. She tugged it out of my jeans and pulled it off my shoulders so it bunched around my wrists. She unclasped the latch of my bra then stretched the front of it to pull it over my head so she could slide it down with the shirt.

Then I felt her fumbling at my arms. She reached through the sleeves of the blouse in order to clip a restraint to the cuffs, first one side then the other. She tied the right one off to the bed frame so it was taut. The other tether went around the bed frame, but she didn't tie it off.

She unclipped my wrists and they sprang apart. She immediately pulled on the left tether, drawing my arm away from my side before I could react. She had more leverage than I did, and she was able to tie it off with my arm pulled straight away from my side. Then she did the same to the right. She climbed off of me, but stood where I could see her while she folded my blouse and bra. She set them aside before moving behind me. I couldn't raise my head from the bed, so I couldn't see her except barely out of the corner of my eye, but I felt her reach underneath me and find the zipper of my jeans. She slowly worked my jeans off of me, then my socks, and last my panties.

She folded everything, then disappeared from view. When she came back, she climbed back on top of me, pinning my legs to the bed. She wrapped a cuff around each ankle, then used a pair of tethers to pull my legs apart as wide as they would go.

She admired her handiwork, then climbed on top of the bed and stretched out along me, draped partly over me with one leg through over mine. She ran a hand idly over my skin for a few moments before speaking.

"Shane," she said. "I'm spicing it up. Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Is this too much?"

"No, Roni." My heart was pounding. I wasn't sure what she was going to do next. "Although I think I'm a little scared."

"This is all in fun, Shane. You know that, yes."

"Are you mad I wouldn't kiss your feet?"

"You didn't think I could do this to you, did you?"

"I'm stronger than you are."

"Yes, you are, and if it's ever a test of strength in a fair contest, you will completely win. But I had all the leverage." We lied like that for a moment while she continued to caress my skin. It felt nice. "Shane, I don't like being overpowered. I will completely freak out. Don't ever do it."

"Okay," I told her. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, Shane. I enjoy your spirit. I am about to have fun making you squirm like crazy." She patted my bottom. "You're sure you're okay?"

I considered offering her a taunt, I really did. But something told me she'd rise to the challenge, and I wasn't sure I was ready for it.

"Make sure you stop before I wet the bed," I told her.

She laughed and patted my bottom again. She climbed back off of me and her tone turned back to demanding. "You have a choice," she said. "Ice or the pinwheel."

I had no idea which would be worse. The ice seemed harmless, but I wasn't sure it was. "Roni," I said, begging a little. "Please don't make me pick."

I think that surprised her. "You want me to pick for you?"

"Please, Roni."

She caressed a foot gently. "Okay, Love. Tonight it will be the pinwheel. That will be a newer experience for you than the ice, I think." She went to the dresser and promptly came back, then sat down on the bed beside me where I could see her. She showed it to me.

What she had looked like some sort of surgical instrument. There was a gleaming metal handle attached to a thin metal wheel. The wheel had spikes, sort of like a starburst. She ran it over my arm so I could watch and feel.

"I can use it softly like I just did," she said. "It usually feels good."

Then she slid it sideways along my arm so that the wheel didn't turn but she just dragged a couple of the spikes across my skin.

"That should feel a lot like scratching. It probably felt good, too."

I nodded.

"Or I can use it more firmly." She let the wheel roll along my arm again, but this time she applied more pressure and I winced.

Then she moved it to my side, making long strokes from my waist all the way under my arm then along my arm to the elbow. I could tell she didn't vary the pressure at all the whole way and was using it as softly as she could. I squirmed. Along my ribs it tickled. In the soft spot under my arm, it hurt, just a little. Along my arm it just made me squirm, like something was crawling on me.

She used it on my legs, several strokes each. I held as still as I could, because every time I squirmed, I got poked.

"You're starting to understand, aren't you?" she asked. "I don't have to hurt you. I just have to make you squirm, and you hurt yourself."

"Oh god," I said.

She poked me hard along my arm, making me wince. "Ouch!"

"I told you last night, mine is the only name you're allowed to utter when we're lovemaking."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

She leaned down and kissed the back of my neck. "You're forgiven."

She started running the wheel over most of my exposed skin. She avoided my neck and face. I wasn't quite sure why. And while I was deeply exposed with my legs spread so far apart, she avoided my more intimate areas.

I began to squirm more and more, then began panting as well.

It felt wonderful and terrible both at the same time. Every time I squirmed I got poked, but I just couldn't hold still.

"You have a lovely body, Shane," she said, poking my feet with the wheel. I jerked against the restraints. "I love knowing you're mine."

She lifted the wheel from my skin. "Are you mine, Shane?"

"Yes, Roni," I said panting. "I'm yours."

She kissed my bottom. Her hairs tickled. Then she began with the wheel again and I almost flew to the ceiling.

"Let me remind you why you're in this position," she said softly, the wheel traveling up and down over my skin. "I gave you an order." The wheel slid between my legs then stopped, not quite touching anywhere truly intimate, but very very close. "And you told me Make me." She touched me the lightest touch with the wheel and I thought I was going to die.

"Not there, Roni," I begged. "Please, not there."

She used the wheel rather fiercely across my back. It hurt.

"You don't get a say."

Then she withdrew the wheel and caressed my skin for a moment, rubbing away the memory of the pain.

The wheel came back, but it didn't explore between my legs again. She didn't say anything for a while, just kept running the wheel over me, making me squirm and jump.

"Do you know how long this is going to last?" she asked me.

"Last night you said twenty minutes."

"That was last night," she told me. "Tonight, it lasts until you beg for the privilege of kissing my feet."

She used the wheel nicely along my back. It felt really wonderful, even if I kept squirming. "You may think you can last a long time," she told me. "But that's only because I'm being nice to you."

Then she demonstrated on the bottoms of my feet that the wheel could hurt. "On a scale of one to ten," she said once I'd caught my breath again. "That was a five. Not even close to drawing blood."

"Roni," I said, getting worried. Would she really make me bleed?"

Then she slipped the wheel between my legs, running it up one side slowly then down the other, not quite reaching my vulva, but very close. The threat was there. I knew I'd last only as long as she wanted me to and not one second longer.

"I can make you beg," she said. "I can go much further with this than you want. You'll beg eventually."

Then she began using it to make me squirm again. I kept getting poked, but I couldn't stop squirming. "But it's more fun to watch you surrender to the squirms," she said.

She slipped the wheel between my legs, but avoided my vulva again. The inside of my legs was especially sensitive, but I couldn't move at all as the wheel crossed over it or I poked myself from multiple directions, and it hurt. As long as I lay very still, everything she was doing felt amazing, but as soon as I squirmed, it hurt.

I was panting, my heart was pounding, and I wanted her to stop so badly, but I didn't, either. I felt myself surrendering to her and just wanted her to tell me what to do.

"Surrender feels good, Shane. If you beg nicely, I'll let you kiss my feet."

And then she flipped the handle of the wheel around and I felt the metal slide inside me. Not the wheel, just the handle. But I didn't realize that at the time, I thought she'd slipped the wheel into me.

I arched my back. "I surrender!" I screamed. "Roni, whatever you want!"

She slipped the handle in and out slowly a few times. I realized it wasn't the wheel, but all I could think was giving her whatever she wanted.

"I'll kiss your feet, Roni.  Please, please, let me kiss your feet."

She slowly withdrew the handle and set the wheel aside. She allowed some slack into the tethers holding my hands but left my legs the way they were. Then she slipped past me to the head of the bed, turned around, and sat down on a pillow, her knees drawn up. She slipped her feet under my head.

I had just enough slack in my arms to leverage myself up slightly, but it was difficult.

"You may kiss my feet, Shane," she told me.

I lifted myself up, turned my face down, and began to kiss her feet. I kissed each big toe, then the insteps. Then I kissed each toe in turn. She began to caress my head. We stayed like that for several minutes before she slowly withdrew her feet. She leaned down and kissed the back of my neck before rearranging herself so she was lying on the bed next to me, my head turned to face her, she on her side looking at me.

"Did you learn anything?" I asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Next time I'm asking for the ice."

She laughed, got off the bed, and went out to the kitchen. I heard her play with the icemaker and come back with a small glass of ice.

"This is only a demonstration," she said.

She took an ice cube out of the glass and began running it along my back. It was cold! But not as bad as the pinwheel had been.

"This isn't so bad, is it?" she asked.

"It's cold," I said. "But it's not as bad as the wheel."

She continued to run the ice along my back, making me arch my back in an attempt to get away.

"But it builds, doesn't it?"

"Yes," I said through gritted teeth.

"The back is easy," she explained casually. She left the melting ice cube on the small of my back and pulled another out of the glass. I wriggled, and the cube slid down my side. I tried to slide away from it, but now it was pressed into my side.

"When you're ready to ask nicely, I'll retrieve that and put it back where it was."

It was cold, and every time I tried to shift away from me, it slid after me.

"Please Roni, it's cold!"

She took the ice cube and replaced it on my back. She set the glass of cubes aside, and then used one hand to hold the cube in place on my back. In her other hand was a fresh cube, which she let me see.

"This one is going inside of you," she told me. "I will keep my fingers on it so I can pull it out the moment you ask. But let me tell you, if this were real punishment and not just a demonstration, I'd slide it in and let it stay there no matter how much you begged."

She didn't wait for me to respond. Her hand moved out of my sight. I felt her fingers part my vulva, then her fingers and the ice cube slid inside of me.

I screamed.

"Take it out! Roni!"

She slipped it out immediately.

She slipped the cube between my lips. It tasted like me. She held her hand over my mouth so I wouldn't spit it out.

"The wheel is more fun," she said. "But the ice is a hell of a motivator."

I nodded, my eyes never leaving hers.

"Finish sucking on that cube," she ordered. "I'll be right back."

She disappeared for only a moment, returning with a towel. She dried my back. I hadn't realized how cold I was getting.

"Is the cube finished?" she asked me. I shook my head. So she just started stroking my skin soothingly until she heard me chew the last remnants of the cube into tiny pieces and swallow them.

"Was this too much spice?" she asked.

"No, Roni."

"On a scale of one to ten, where one means you were bored and eight or higher would be more than you can handle, what was this?"

I thought about it. "Four."

She kissed my cheek.

"Is your neck getting stiff, lying there like that?"

"Yes."

"Who is in control?"

"You are, Roni."

"If I untie you, who is in control?"

"You are, Roni."

"If I untie you, then teach you to make me scream your name, who is in control?"

I thought about it before answering. "You are, Roni."

She smiled, patted my bottom, then released the tethers, but kept them attached to the cuffs. She helped me sit up then she kissed me.

"Undress me," she said, standing next to the bed. "Take your time."

I unbuttoned her blouse, folded it, and set it on the bed next to me. Then I kissed the skin that was exposed around her bra. She had a front clasp, so I put my fingers on it and looked up at her. She nodded permission, so I released it, then slipped the bra off her shoulders and added it to the pile of clothes.

Her breasts were perfect. I looked at them, then looked at her face, and she nodded again. I began kissing them, taking a nipple into my mouth and teasing it with my tongue. She put her hands on my head and held me. I looked up into her face, and her eyes were closed. She was a little flushed.

I teased her that way for just a minute or so, then my hand dropped to the waist of her jeans. I slowly unzipped them and wriggled them down her hips. She stepped out of them for me so I could fold them. She was bare foot, so no socks. I slipped my fingers inside her panties and then looked for permission. She nodded, so I slipped them down her legs, folded them, and added them to the pile. She took the entire pile and set it on the dresser, then climbed on the bed and lied down on her back. She reached out and pulled me to her. We kissed for a moment, then she pushed me away.

"There's a timer on my dresser," she said. "Go get it."

I did and brought it to her. "Set it for 20 minutes," she said. "Don't press start yet."

I fumbled with the buttons but figured out how to set it. I showed her the time and she nodded.

"You're going to start the timer. You have until the timer goes off to make me start squirming. You can do anything you want to me as long as it's supposed to be pleasant. No tickling."

"What happens if I can't make you squirm?"

"Then I'll start offering pointers. But I think you'd rather figure it out for yourself."

I grinned. "Will you at least tell me if I'm doing something right."

"Shane, honey, I am horny as hell. You're going to know if you're doing it right." She licked her lips. "If you can make me scream your name, I'll buy you a second corset."

I frowned. "Pick a different prize."

"You don't want another corset?"

"I don't want our relationship to be about money."

"I hadn't thought about that," she said. "You're right. I'm sorry. Okay, if you can make me scream your name, I'll grant you a wish."

"What kind of wish?"

"Anything reasonable that I'm able to grant."

"So I could ask for a pony?"

She laughed. "Yes, and if you do, I'll take you horseback riding."

I started the timer then immediately began kissing her. I held her face in my hands while I did so and slid my tongue slowly between her lips. Our tongues danced for a while. When I opened my eyes to peek, hers were closed and her expression was one of pleasure.

I broke the kiss but then started moving down her body. I kissed the side of her neck and the left of her collar bone. Then instead of continuing down, I lied down next to her and began just stroking her. I avoided the more erogenous areas, but just worked to wake up her nerve endings. I did long slow strokes from her arms down her sides to her legs, reaching as far as I could, then came up the other side.  Then I slid a leg over hers, adjusting myself so my toes were tucked under the foot furthest from me.

I leaned over and kissed her again, still stroking her.

Her breaths were shallow, and I could tell she was enjoying what I was doing.

I ran a finger over her nipple then did swirlies around and over the nipple. She arched her back into my hand. I moved my hand to the other nipple while my lips found the first one.

I nibbled very, very lightly, then flicked her with my tongue. She arched some more, and one hand came up to caress my hair.

I traced a line of kisses down her side, ending at her pelvis.

Then I came up to her mouth for another deep kiss, pressing myself against her. My hand slipped between her legs with my fingers pressing against her vulva.

She started to squirm, just a little.

I kissed my way down her again then slid down so I was between her legs. I kissed the crease where her leg meets her torso, a line of kisses along one side, then the other, then the kisses worked their way closer and closer to the middle.

I could smell her scent, and it was driving me crazy. She smelled divine.

I moved my mouth to her vulva and tried to use my lips and tongue to open her. I didn't seem to be very good at that, so I slipped my hand in and used my fingers to spread her. I began licking her clitoris.

She spasmed the moment my tongue touched her nub. That was fun, so I tried to get her to do it again. I slipped my tongue inside her and she spasmed again. I slipped my lips around her clitoris and sucked very gently. She spasmed.

I had left the timer on the bed. I reached over with one hand and shut it off before it could interrupt us. Then I used one hand to caress her bare skin wherever I could reach while my tongue and lips continued to tease her.

Her breathing became more rapid and she was arching her back, then trying to grind her hips deeper into my mouth. I switched to a more rhythmic pattern for her and she moaned, her movements becoming more frantic. I glanced up and saw she was clutching the bedding with both hands.

When she came, it was in a series of shudders. She whispered, "Shane, Shane, my lovely pet, Shane," as she came.

I slowed my motions as she did, but she kept having little aftershocks, and hadn't stopped saying my name. Then she collapsed to the bed and all her muscles relaxed.

I slowly kissed my way back up to her, then knelt over her, staring down at her.

She opened her eyes and looked up at me, then smiled. "Kiss me."

I lowered myself and kissed her very softly. Her lips parted, and my tongue accepted the invitation. She seemed to enjoy tasting our mutual taste on my mouth.

Then she pulled me down so that I was draped across her comfortably. I could feel her heart still pounding.

"I'm sorry," I told her. "I didn't make you scream."

She caressed me. "Honey, I'm not a screamer. I whisper. Screaming from me is never good and shouldn't be your goal."

"You cheated," I told her.

She giggled. "You earned your wish, Shane. You scream. I whisper. Two sides of the same coin."

I settled in. "Really?"

"Really," she said, patting me.

We lied together, just talking, until we were both sleepy. We had moved underneath the covers and turned out the lights. Eventually Veronica ordered me to roll over and she curled up behind me, wrapping her arms around me.

"Sleep now, Shane."

I woke sometime later just as Veronica finished tying my arms to the bed frame again. She'd never taken the restraints off and had managed to tie one hand without my noticing, but I woke when she pulled the other over and tied it off.

"What are you doing?" I asked sleepily.

"I woke up," she said. "And wondered how helpless I could get you before you woke up."

Then she tied my legs, but this time it was different. She made me bend my knees first, then pulled my ankles apart and tied them off. This left my knees in the air but my legs spread wide. I felt very exposed.

She crawled onto the bed next to me.

"We haven't discussed anything like this," she said. "Taking you without permission."

"I am yours," was all I told her.

I took her just a few minutes to have me squirming, but then she pulled away and looked at me in the moonlight.

"Someone's a screamer," she said.

She left the bed and returned with something in her hand, going first to her dresser then the closet. It was too dark to see what she had.

She lied back down on the bed and her fingers slid slowly up my chest until her fingers were over my lips. She slipped them between my lips then began applying pressure to open my mouth. I let her. She slipped her fingers into my mouth and let me suck on them for a moment, then her fingers started pushing a piece of cloth into my mouth.

"These are my panties," she told me. I watched her face in the moonlight as her fingers slowly filled my mouth with her panties. Then she tied it off with a piece of silk as a gag.

This was familiar to me. I was remembering the last time someone had done this to me. I moaned into the gag.

Her hand slipped down between my legs. Her fingers spread my vulva, and then she began to make me squirm. All the time, she was talking quietly to me.

"You are mine, my pet," she said. "Forever."

I spasmed at that, as I listened to her words, her fingers inside me, the changing pressure driving me crazy.

"I'm the one who brings you these pleasures," she said. "You are mine. What I'm doing to you is because you obeyed me tonight. This is one reward for obeying me."

I closed my eyes. She continued to speak to me, her words so quiet I could barely hear them, her fingers working their magic inside me.

Eventually I arched my back and screamed into the gag. Her fingers stayed inside me, teasing me, as the spasms rocked through me for an eternity.

She loosened the gag and removed it from my mouth, then made me lick her fingers. She rolled over and released my hand, then my legs, then my other hand. She pulled the covers up around us, cuddling me again.

"Mine, Shane."

"Yours, Roni. All yours."

I started to drift off but heard her words in my ear. "I love you, too, Shane."

"That's lust, Roni," I said half asleep.

She chuckled. "It's both." She squeezed me and I fell asleep in her arms.

Chapter 9: The Truth

Veronica and I settled into a routine that fit well with school. Depending on mutual schedules, she drove to Knightly once or twice mid-week to take me to dinner, sometimes inviting Molly and a couple of times Janice and Kelly joined us. Molly warmed up to Veronica and the two of them became friends, which pleased me. Unless there was a school event, I tended to spend the weekends at Veronica's, but she insisted I not neglect my friendship with Molly, so we found a balance that worked.

For the last Saturday in March, Victoria and Wendy invited us to dinner. It was just they, we, and Jeremy and Lawrence. Veronica bought me a green leather skirt and vest, surprising me with it when we were about to get dressed. She'd already picked out an LBD for herself.

"I thought I'd wear my red dress," I told her, eying the leather skeptically. "We aren't going to match this way."

"You don't like it?" she asked me, sounding hurt.

I picked up the skirt. The leather was supple and felt wonderful. I held it up, then held the vest up. "Do I wear a blouse under it or over it."

"No blouse," she said. "Those plus stockings." Then I noticed there was a pair of fishnet stockings in the box. "And heels."

"It's really sexy," I decided. "But we won't match."

She pursed her lips. I was missing something, and I don't think it was that I was being ungracious in accepting her gift. I was uncomfortable accepting any gifts from her, but she'd been buying me things anyway, and she was used to me not being gracious about it. She understood it was my guilt coming through at not being able to buy her things in return. We'd barely been dating a month but I already had a half a wardrobe at her apartment, and I looked hot in all of them.

"They're symbolic," she said finally.

"Of what?"

"Of the leather collar I'm not making you wear. But if you prefer, you may wear your red dress and the collar."

"Eek!" I blushed. She'd introduced me to the collar the previous weekend. She put it on me the minute I'd entered the apartment on Friday evening, then took all my clothes away. She had clipped a leash to the collar and then attached the other end of the leash to a hook on her belt. I'd spent the entire weekend naked except for the collar, tethered to her the entire time except while I was studying or one of us was using the bathroom. I'd blushed furiously every time she looked at me, but by the end of the weekend, I was completely aquiver for her touch.

She told me the entire weekend was payback for my own behavior. It had started with emails I'd been sending to her during the day. At first, it had been innocent. Just sweet little emails about my day, and that was fine. But then during one of them I'd gotten playful and I told her I'd been thinking about her, which had gotten me all worked up, so I was taking care of it while emailing her. Then I'd gone into details what I was doing, telling her exactly how it felt, and how I was imagining her doing all this to me instead.

I was doing no such thing of course. I was sitting in the library at the time, looking quite chaste and proper. But she didn't know that.

She'd gotten the email during a staff meeting. I got a response that said, "Cheeky girl!" On the phone that night, she told me her staff noticed she wasn't paying attention but was looking very distracted and asked her, "What's her name, she's got this reaction on you?"

Of course, I was pleased I could affect her that way, so I started sending her more emails and text messages. I kept hoping to catch her during more staff meetings. Then I started including photos. Some of them were innocent. I got Molly to take a picture of my bare shoulder then sent the photo to Veronica saying, "You kissed this spot last Saturday and it's still quivering." I did a lot like that. I took one of my bed, freshly made, and said, "This would be more fun if you helped me rumple it."

Some of the photos were quite racy. Never any full body shots or anything like that. But I would take a photo then crop it down to just a small part. I blushed furiously when I did a self portrait of my lady bits, but then I cropped it down so that you could barely tell what it was and then probably only if you knew how naughty I was trying to be. The caption for that one was, "This part is lonely. Do you know anyone who will kiss it for me?"

I sent her that one three times.

So she made me pay for teasing her so badly, but Tuesday night when we talked on the phone, she said, "No emails?" So I knew she was enjoying the teasing. So on Thursday when I knew she was in a meeting with a client, I sent a photo of my crossed wrists with the caption, "Something is missing." It was Thursday night that she'd bought the leather outfit for me.

Of course, I wore the leather to the dinner party. Veronica looked very professional and stunning, as she always did, in her little black dress. I looked hot, and probably a little bit skanky, in the leather, but Victoria and Wendy smiled when they saw how I was dressed.

Jeremy chastised Veronica for the outfit. He actually sniffed in a superior fashion. "Good color," he admitted, "but she looks much better in my creations than this... this..."

"I think I look good," I told him defensively.

"Honey, you would look good no matter what you wear," he said. "You would even look good in one of those hideous sweatshirts." He paused, looking at me for a moment. "Please tell me you never wear sweatshirts."

I think I offered a guilty look. He turned to Veronica. "You let her wear sweatshirts?"

"Not around me," she told him. "If she shows up on my doorstep wearing a sweatshirt, I whisk her inside before anyone can see her, then I make her take off every stitch."

I blushed ferociously while everyone else laughed.

Over dinner, the topic came up again. "Roni, what did she do that you made her dress like this?"

"Cheeky girl," Veronica said fiercely.

"She certainly is," Wendy said. "Please tell me you spank her frequently."

"She can be hard to catch," Veronica said. "As for what she did, well."

And then she told them, sparing no details. I hid my face during the telling, but then she offered to pull out her phone and show them some of the photos.

"No!" I screeched. "You show them even one single innocent photo, and I'll stop sending them to you."

Veronica looked at me and put her phone away. Victoria actually cackled. "She's got your number, Roni. How did you let that happen?"

"Cheeky girl," was all Veronica said, but she winked at me.

The topic came up again after dinner. Jeremy finally made a disgusted sound and said, "I can't look at her dressed like that anymore." He stormed off to the front door and opened the closet door. I couldn't believe he would leave just because he didn't like how I was dressed, but instead he retrieved a garment bag from the closet. He walked over to me and ordered me to stand up. I did and he looked me up and down. "Take it off," he ordered.

"What? Jeremy, I'm not wearing anything underneath. I think that's rather obvious, don't you think?"

Wendy tittered.

"It's just us girls here," he muttered, but he didn't push it. Then he unzipped the garment bag and withdrew a long, green dress. I stared at it.

"I had to guess at some of the sizes," he said. "But it should be close." He held it up in front of me. "Take that crap off and put this on."

He shoved the dress into my hands then turned around, standing between me and everyone else. He was so big, I couldn't see past him. And thus no one could see me, although Veronica leaned way to the side to look around him and watch me.

She nodded and blew me a kiss.

I bent down and took off my shoes, then took off the skirt and vest, setting them aside. Then I climbed into the dress.

It was green. The top was made of a soft leather. There was a leather collar that wrapped around my neck and rested comfortably while helping to support the dress. It was backless and sleeveless and wouldn't have stayed up without the collar offering a little bit of extra support.  There were laces at the lower part of the back that could be used to tighten the waist while still leaving my back exposed almost but not quite to the point of indecency. I left them loose. The skirt was green brocade, and there were touches of the brocade used as a sort of pin stripping through the bodice as well. It was stunning.

"You can turn around, Jeremy."

He did and looked at me. He turned me around and tightened the laces, then he began fussing at me. He actually adjusted my boobs, and I blushed, but Veronica just laughed quietly. It felt better when he was done though.

"It needs to come in a little here," he said. He produced some safety pins from a pocket and began tucking things in a little. "And maybe here." Finally he was satisfied and stepped back.

Lawrence was beaming not at me, but at Jeremy. I realized then he was proud of his partner.

"You've been naughty, Jeremy," said Wendy. "You were supposed to do the shoes first. But oh my god, it's brilliant."

"Mirror," I said. "Mirror."

Jeremy knew his way around the apartment and pulled me to the full length mirror in Victoria and Wendy's room. He used his hands on my shoulders to position me in front of the mirror, fussed with my hair for a moment, then stepped back. I stared at my reflection.

"You made this for me?" I asked in a quiet voice.

"Do you like it?" he asked. It actually sounded like he wasn't sure.

I turned around and hugged him, practically throwing myself into his arms. He held me gently.

"I've never felt so beautiful."

When we got back to the room, I heard Veronica asking, "Can he make more?"

Jeremy started to explain his decisions. "I wanted a balance," he said, "of innocence and playfulness. And she must be able to tango in it." He gave me a stern look. "No swing!"

This was definitely not a swing dress.

"So that meant backless, so you can caress her skin while you dance." He said that looking at Veronica.

"Sleeveless to show off her truly fine arms," he said, caressing my biceps for a moment.

"I couldn't help but use the brocade in memory of what she wore the first time I saw her," he said, "But I'm not sure if another material wouldn't have been better."

"It's lovely, Jeremy," said Victoria. "Perfect."

"Maybe," he admitted. "I wanted red, but I need samples of her hair to match that color." He started playing with my hair. "It's not just one shade of red, and we mustn't clash."

Then he looked at Veronica while his hands rested on the leather collar built into the dress. She began to blush. It was the first time I saw her blush. "I did it this way for you," he told her. She didn't say anything, but later I saw her kiss his cheek.

He turned me around again then turned me back.

"I'm sorry I didn't make the shoes first," he told Wendy and Victoria while looking contrite.

"It's brilliant, Jeremy," said Wendy. "Simply brilliant."

"I'll cherish it forever," I told him.

"Honey, you can't keep it," said Veronica softly. "It's a prototype. He's making a new clothing line from it, and he'll need it."

"She certainly will keep it," he said fiercely. "I made it for her." He grinned then looked contrite again. "I made two, but the other one is a little different. This is a one-of-a-kind and we won't ever make any more like it."

At that he turned his back on all of them, the conversation finished, and he helped me put my shoes back on. Then he looked at Victoria. "It needs a test drive." He pulled a CD out of a side pocket of the garment bag, crossed to the stereo, and inserted the CD. A few seconds later, Argentine tango music filled the room.

Veronica got up from the couch, walked towards me, then circled me once before taking me into her arms and we began to dance.

* * *

The end of the term was approaching, and I would have just a little over a week free. Veronica assumed I'd spend it with her.

"My parents aren't going to like that," I told her.

In response, Veronica stuffed a stocking into my mouth and tied it in place, then moved down and soon had me screaming her name through the gag.

The next day was Sunday. Veronica was going to drive me back to school early so that I would focus on studies for the last few days of the term. She was quiet over breakfast.

"Tell me about what you want to do for a career," she said.

"I told you. Business."

"That can mean a lot of things," she said. "Do you want to be a mortgage broker like your father?"

"Finance and banking," I said slowly, considering it. "I don't know. What I really need is to get some experience. But it's not like anyone is going to hire me for anything where I'll actually learn something, not just over a summer break."

She smiled. "I would."

"That's just because you love me," I told her. "But no one else will."

"Are you turning down my job offer before you even hear it?"

"Your title would be Personal Assistant. That's a glorified name for Fetch and Carry. You would do whatever I told you to do. Basically your job is to offload as much trivia from me so I can focus on the things that make the company money. That can mean anything from making copies to taking my clothes to the dry cleaner. You would be my shadow. You would attend virtually every meeting I attend unless you're running errands for me. You would be exposed to the creative side of the business, which is very particular to what we do, as well as the pure business side, the sort of things that every company has to do. Accounting, payroll, collections, managing clients, the works. You would work for me over both the spring and summer break. After that, we'll reevaluate."

She looked me over for a moment. "Now, I'm going to give you two reasons why you should consider turning me down. Then I'm going to give you some personal reasons why you should accept. These will be explained to you as your older and possibly wiser lover. Then I'm going to be your professional mentor and explain why you should accept.

"Problem number one. This might be just a little too much together time. If we are having a disagreement, you absolutely can not bring it to the office. Furthermore, you would basically be around me 24 hours a day, and that just might be too much.

"Problem number two. I work long hours, and I'd expect you to match me. That's a professional requirement. If I need you for something, I need you, and just because it's not 8 to 5 doesn't mean I'm not working. That might be a bigger job than you're willing to take at this point, and it might be culture shock for you. On the other hand, you'd get a feel for what sort of hours a high powered job can take."

She paused, taking a sip of her coffee. "Now, the personal reasons to take it, Love." She smiled at me. "Because of the hours you'd be working, you would need a place nearby. You can't drive in from the suburbs and work the hours I'd insist you work. And it just happens I have a spare guest room. The job would pay $12 an hour plus room and board. I would insist you accept." She smiled. "I believe that takes care of the objections your parents would have about you moving in with me.

"Furthermore, I love the idea of you taking my orders at work." She leered. "You might enjoy the opportunity to wave your cute ass at me all the time."

I laughed. "You're right, I would."

"You would get to see me at work. This is an opportunity for me to show off. Shane, I'm very good at what I do, but until you see it up close, you can't really appreciate it. I want to be able to talk about my work with you and know you understand."

She took another sip of her coffee, then her expression turned less playful. "Now, speaking as an experienced business woman, acting as a mentor and the person introducing you to the business world, the reasons you should accept. First, you may not appreciate it, but this job would expose you to more aspects of business than you could find anywhere else. Even if you found a similar position elsewhere, and you won't, it would be for a bigger company where the executive you'd be assisting only works on a slice of the company business. I work on all of it, so you'll see all of it.

"Next, while the pay isn't great, it's good for someone your age with no experience. As a friend, I'd love to pay you more, but as a business woman, I can't justify it."

"Finally, this is a low-risk opportunity professionally. You're going to make mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. But if you make them for me, it won't trash your reputation. I'll be there to help you learn from it. If you make them somewhere else, you might shut down a significant opportunity down the road."

She stopped talking and drank her coffee, letting me think about it.

"Is this just an opportunity to make me move in with you?" I asked.

"No. That's a bonus and it solves a personal problem, but I believe that local businesses should invest in the community, and offering opportunities like this is part of that. Summer is a very busy time for me, and bringing you on to help out will be valuable. You will earn your money. It's not a handout."

She thought about it. "Plus. I haven't done anything like this, either, and I'm going to make mistakes, too. I'm hoping you'll be gentle with me when I do."

I thought about it. Actually, I loved the idea from the moment she brought it up, especially the moving in part.

"What if it turns out to be too much time together?"

"Then we'll adjust before it becomes a real problem."

I smiled. "When do I start?"

She reached over and hugged me. "The day after your last class."

"Wednesday then," I said. "I have two final projects due Wednesday. They're both already done. And a take home exam we'll get tomorrow. Some students have classes on Friday but I don't."

"I'll pick you up at school."

* * *

That night I called my parents and gave them the good news. I told them I'd been introduced to a business woman, a friend of a friend, that we'd become friends, and that she had offered me this job. I explained the job. They grilled me for a while, but Dad admitted this was a pretty amazing opportunity. They weren't thrilled about the hours and told me they expected me for Sunday brunch both weekends. "And invite your friend slash boss," Mom added.

* * *

I aced my papers and the exam. Veronica picked me up Wednesday afternoon and took me home. She took me into the second bedroom and told me, "Hang your things up in here. Get settled in."

"You're making me sleep in here?" I asked.

"Who said anything about sleeping in here? While I don't expect drop ins this week, I fully expect your parents are going to check up on you this summer, and it may as well look like you're really using the guest room. Best to establish the habits now."

"Does it bother you I won't tell them about us?"

"Yes, it does," she said. "But I understand and I do not blame you."

She left me to unpack, but when I stepped out of the guest room, she ambushed me. She was waiting beside the door, and I didn't see her when she stepped out. She threw a blanket over my head, then wrapped it tightly around me and secured it somehow with my arms pressed to my sides.

I was shrieking with laughter and wasn't able to offer anything but token resistance. She spun me around several times so I had no idea which way I was facing, then hauled me around the apartment so I also didn't know where I was. At every turn, she spun me around and around. I was completely lost.

Eventually she shoved me against a wall and told me if I struggled, she'd punish me.

I held very still while she unzipped my jeans and slid them off my hips. I stepped out of them, and she threw them to the side.

"New rule," she said. "I'm tired of these jeans you wear."

"I look good in jeans!" I protested through the blanket.

"You look good in everything," she agreed. "But they're a pain to get off of you."

I laughed.

"You may wear skirts or dresses or go naked. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Roni."

Her hand slipped into my panties and it was just moments before I was squirming madly.

"Good girl," she said quietly. I was disappointed when her hand withdrew, but I was pretty sure it would be back.

She pulled me away from the wall, spun me around several times, then I screeched as she pushed me backwards abruptly and I fell onto her bed. She grabbed my ankles and lifted my feet, which kept me off balance. I didn't kick.

"You have a choice. You can promise to behave, or I'll finish securing you and then tickle you instead of what I'm planning instead."

"I'll behave," I said quietly.

She kissed each of my feet then set my ankles on her shoulders, leaned forward slightly, and hooked her fingers into the waistband of my panties. I helped by squirming around as she slipped my panties off me.

Then she rolled me onto my tummy and made me tuck my legs underneath me, kneeling a little with my legs spread.

"Can you breathe okay?" she asked.

"Yes, Roni," I said. I squirmed a little to try to tease her.

"Stay just like that," she said, drawing away. I heard her at her dresser, then she came back.

"Shane," she said gently. "I'm aiming for a seven on our scale. If it pushes to eight, you must tell me."

"Yes, Roni," I said. "Will it hurt?"

"No."

She began to massage my exposed bottom, then teased my clitoris and slipped her fingers inside of me. She withdrew, teasing some more, then massaged my bottom again.

She paused. I could hear her doing something as she knelt on the bed next to me, but I wasn't sure what it was.

She touched me again, one hand on my bottom, and then I felt something cold and hard being to press at my anus.

"Roni?"

"Relax, Love," she said. "Accept it."

I gasped as whatever she was holding slipped into me. It didn't hurt, but it was a strange sensation. She slid it in just a little, then paused.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, Roni," I gasped.

She slid it in further and further and I felt myself filling up. And then she stopped and kissed my bottom right at the crease before it turns into my waist. We'd discovered some time ago that was a very erogenous spot for me.

"Is it okay?" she asked me tenderly.

"Yes."

She set her hand on my bottom over whatever it was that was filling me and then began applying rhythmic pressure to it. I started to squirm again. She withdrew her hands for a moment, then I felt something else begin to press at my vulva. It began to buzz and I almost flew out of my skin.

"Roni!" I screamed.

She was alternating now, pressing against one filled opening with one hand while she inserted and withdrew the vibrator in the other opening.

"Mine," she said.

"Yours!" I screamed.

She slipped the vibrator in and out, using her fingers to tease my clitoris. She found my G-spot and I exploded in a flurry of squirms.

I was panting and crying her name when the shudders started. They went on and on before I collapsed, spent.

Then, gasping and unable to move, I suddenly felt the blanket closing in on me, stealing all my air. I was panting and couldn't get enough air.

"Can't breathe", I said, beginning to panic. "Roni, can't breathe!"

She immediately released my arms and yanked the blanket from over my head. I rolled over into her and threw my arms around her, squeezing, my heart pounding out of my chest as I gasped for air.

Once I calmed down, she said, "I'm sorry. Too much?"

"Only the blanket, and not until I was panting so hard. I started to panic." I thought about it. "I won't next time."

"You're sure?" I nodded and she kissed me.

"Did you like?"

"Don't be daft," I replied. Then I realized whatever had been inside of me was still inside of me, and sitting on it meant it was pressed further into me.

"Um. Is that going to get stuck?"

She laughed. "No. It's okay."

I wriggled. "It feels weird."

"Uncomfortable?"

"No. Just... I dunno."

She held me for a while, the two of us sitting on her bed. My heart eventually slowed. "Time to go shopping," she said. "Roll over again so I can remove it."

I rolled over. She adjusted me so my butt was in the air and my legs spread, much like I'd been last time, then slowly pulled it out of me. "Close your eyes and no peeking," she said. "If you move from this position before I give you permission, I'll..."

"Punish me?"

"Yes."

She disappeared for several minutes. I heard her in the bathroom washing up, then she came back and put some things away. She returned to me and kissed my exposed bottom on both cheeks. Then she swatted me once.

"Good girl. Go take a quick shower then get dressed. In a skirt."

"Yes, Roni."

* * *

She took me clothes shopping. I complained.

"Stop it," she told me. She pulled me to the side and held me by the shoulders. "I'm tired of this game. Listen to me and listen very carefully." She shook me a little. She was actually angry with me. I didn't like it.

"I know you're a student. I know you can't buy me things. I. Don't. Care."

"I do," I said in a small voice.

She shook me again. She'd never done that before. I felt a tear start to slide down my cheek.

She stared at it for a moment, then wiped the tear away and pulled me to her. Then she pushed me away and shook me again.

"I'm not angry at you," she said.

"You seem angry."

"I am. I'm not angry AT YOU. I'm deeply frustrated that this is so obvious to me and you don't understand it. You're a brilliant woman, and if you can't understand it, then it's because I'm not explaining it right."

"You think I'm brilliant?"

She shook me again, but I deserved it that time.

"Are you putting 100% of yourself into this relationship?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any reason to believe I am not tickled pink over that 100% you're giving me?"

"No."

She shook me again. "Then what the hell is the problem?"

"I owe you too much already, and if you keep buying me things, I'll never catch up."

"You did not just tell me you're keeping score. Do you count the orgasms, too? Maybe the hugs. Maybe the playful words. Are you counting those, too? Or just the money."

"The money," I said quietly. "And the orgasms. I'm behind giving those to you, too."

"God damn it, Shane!"

She let go of me and turned around, furious. I stood there, not sure what to do. Then she turned around. I started to open my mouth.

"Shut up," she ordered.

"Have you ever, even just once, received an orgasm from me that didn't involve you screaming my name at the top of your lungs?"

I thought about it. "No."

"Have you ever received an orgasm from me that didn't involve you declaring that you belonged to me, that you were mine?"

"No."

"Have you ever considered what that does to my ego, to have you screaming my name and declaring yourself to belong to me, begging me to make you feel that way even deeper?"

"Sort of, I guess. I dunno." I'd tried to understand. I had fun pleasing her, but mostly I felt inadequate when I tried, even if she said I'd made her happy.

"Let me clue you in. I've had earth-shaking orgasms, the kind that make poets weep and angels sing. You've given me a few and I've had others. And they never, ever are as pleasing to me as when you scream my name because of something I'm doing to you. Orgasms are one form of endorphin rush, but they wear off. Every time I look at you, I get an endorphin rush. In effect, you are giving me orgasms just by being around me."

I thought about it. "I don't understand."

She sighed. "I know. But can you at least understand that if my choice is to receive an earth-shaking orgasm or deliver one, I'd rather deliver one? That I gain greater pleasure from it than receiving one, at least when it's with you?"

"I'll try."

"I like the current ratio. It's perfect, as far as I'm concerned. So can we stop keeping orgasm score?"

I nodded.

"So, now. Money. I've managed to become successful. It's something I'm very proud of. I have every right to be. I've worked damned hard at it. I'd like to think you're proud of me, too."

"I am," I said. I looked away. "When I think about it, it makes me tingly."

She smiled for the first time in a while.

"When I buy you things, I'm not trying to remind you that you can't buy them for yourself or that you can't buy me things."

"I know," I said.

"Sometimes I'm doing it because it's something you need, and because I can. Sometimes I buy something for you because I really want to see you wearing it, that it'll make you look sexy and make me turned on. In that case, I'm being selfish and really buying myself something, I'm just making you wear it. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Sometimes I buy you things because I think it's something you'll find delightful. I like watching your eyes light up when I give you something you especially like. When it's something really small, you're like a kid in a candy shop, and I just love watching you. But as soon as it's something even remotely expensive, you get all shitty about it and ruin my fun. And your own."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be. And sometimes I spend money on you to show off."

She let that sink in.

"Shane, I grew up poor. I had a single mother. My dad ditched when she got pregnant. My mom tried hard, but we didn't have anything. We barely kept a roof over our heads and food on the table. It got better later, but I will always remember being poor. Well, I'm not poor anymore. The business being what it is, I can't throw money away, but I can darned well spend it when I want to. I'm not flamboyant about it, I don't throw my money around, but every now and then, I like to remind myself that I could if I wanted to." She looked at me. "And it's important to me that I show it to you, too. I know you can't really understand, but it's important to me that you know I'm not poor, that I can buy you things if I want to." She poked me in the head. "It's not enough for me that you know up here." She poked my chest. "I need to know you know it here, too."

She looked away. She was still angry. "You will now listen to me very carefully. You will either learn to accept this part of our relationship gracefully, maybe even gleefully. Or. We. Are. Over."

"What?" She was breaking up with me?

"You heard me."

She looked away. I looked away. I was crying softly, tears running down both cheeks. At least I wasn't blubbering. If she walked away, I knew I'd start.

I dried my tears on the sleeves of my blouse.

"Roni?" I wasn't supposed to use that name in public, but I was making a point. She looked at me, but I could tell she wasn't happy.

I pointed across the aisle, not even looking where I was pointing. "I think I might like that one."

She looked where I was pointing. Then she looked back at me.

"Shane, honey," she said, the corner of her lips starting to quiver. "I know that you would look good in almost anything, but I'm not sure I'm ready to dress you in a men's undies just yet."

I guess I should have looked before I pointed.

She curled her arm in mine. "Let's go find the ladies and clean up."

* * *

Eventually she bought me two business suits. I didn't look at the prices and she didn't ask my opinion except "Is it comfortable?" She also bought me two pair of flat shoes, telling me, "We run around too much, I refuse to be hindered in heels or have sore feet all the time." We picked up several more blouses, undies and stockings. It was a real power shopping trip.

Once we got in the car, I made a point to bubble about my new clothes. She smiled and looked pleased.

"You need to know, Shane. These were inexpensive suits, suitable for a young woman in her first professional job. We didn't even get them fitted, just took them off the rack. We didn't go near the stores where I shop. You would have been out of place in those suits. Jeremy is going to give me shit when he sees them, but Wendy and Vic will set him straight later."

"You need to know that I love them. They could be just threads and I'd love them because you bought them for me."

I put my hand on her arm. "I love everything you buy me. I'm just afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"That I'll start to expect it. That I'll turn into a demanding, manipulating bitch. If I never let you buy me anything, then there's no risk. It's the same about everything else we don't share evenly."

"Like the orgasms?"

"Yeah. I've already caught myself trying to manipulate you to tie me up more often."

She laughed.

I pouted. "I'm serious," I said quietly.

"I know you are, honey. The thing is, I was worried I did that too often."

I paused. "Veronica, I've already been trying to manipulate you. And a few times recently there were things I wanted, and I knew if I asked you, you'd get them for me. If I grow complacent about letting you buy me things, it's a really small step before asking. Or asking you to take me places." I paused, not sure if I should continue, then said in a very small voice. "I was hoping you'd take me somewhere over spring break."

"Honey, I was going to, but an old client is demanding some work from me, and she's been a really good client over the years, and I can't say no."

"You don't understand. I was so close to asking you to take me to Key West."

"I would have loved to take you to Key West."

"You still don't understand," I said. "If I ask you to spend money for me, then it's like placing an obligation on you. You can either do it or say No and disappoint me."

She started laughing. "Don't laugh at me!"

"Then don't be daft. Hello? Have you met me? Do you think I'm incapable of saying No?"

"I'd quiver my lip at you."

"I'd spank you."

"I'd like it. Maybe that would be my plan all along."

"Shane, do you have any doubts over my willingness or ability to punish you? The punishments so far have all been in fun, but if you start to damage our relationship, you don't think I can reign you in?"

"You shouldn't have to."

"No," she agreed. "I shouldn't. And I'll be mad if you make me. But I'm perfectly able to handle it if it happens, so please stop overcorrecting."

"Okay."

"And if there's something you want, I would be delighted if you asked me."

"Okay."

I waited a minute or two.

"Veronica?"

"Yes, Shane?"

"I'd like you to start taking me dancing."

"I suppose you need dance shoes."

"I don't have any."

"I love buying dance shoes. You realize everyone is going to know about our relationship if we go dancing. I have no intention of hiding it."

"Good."

"Veronica," I said after a minute. "I've only worn my green corset once. Would you start taking me places I can wear it?"

She laughed. "You can count on it."

"Of course," I said wistfully. "If we keep going, and I keep wearing the same outfit, they'll wonder why I never wear anything else."

"Cheeky girl." She was smiling.

We pulled into the driveway and parked.

"Veronica," I said.

"Yes, cheeky girl."

"I'm sorry I was such a bitch."

I leaned against her during the elevator ride up to her floor. She wrapped her arm around me and kissed the top of my head.

* * *

She made us go to bed early that night, and no play time either. I thought I wouldn't sleep, but she scratched my back for a while and talked quietly too me. Then she snuggled in. It felt so good to be with her.

When the alarm sounded, I rolled out of bed immediately. Not quickly, but immediately, while Veronica was still fighting to turn the alarm off. I raced her first into the bathroom, which earned me a squeal of displeasure, but I just wanted to use the bathroom and brush my teeth, and I was done before she'd finished putting on the coffee.

"I'm going for a short run first," I told her. "I'll be back in 20 minutes."

"Make sure you cool down during that 20 minutes because you can't afford 10 more once you get back."

I nodded.

It was brisk out, but the run felt good. Veronica was drying her hair when I let myself back into the apartment. I threatened to hug her, which didn't earn me any points, so I just dropped all my clothes on the bathroom floor while she watched me, then popped into the shower.

I was clean, dry, lightly made up, and properly dressed in a professional style shortly before six. Veronica shoved some toast at me with a cup of coffee. "Bring those with."

We were the first in the office. We headed straight to her office where we each ate our breakfast while she did what she referred to as "the HR niceties". She had me sign various papers and took a photo copy of my social security card and driver's license. She explained what she was doing and why. Then she explained the typical work day.

She made a point of arriving at the office ahead of anyone else. It gave her a chance to review everything that needed to happen that day so she could stay on top of the projects her employees were working on.

"I am going to start by reading my email. You are going to do some of the mundane tasks I normally do. When you are done, come back here and we're going to go through my email together.

"Even the one from your girlfriend?" I asked innocently.

She looked at her computer and found the email from me. "You little vixen," she said. She opened it in front of me, sighed, and turned to me. "You're welcome. And I love you, too."

She slid a piece of paper across the desk to me. "Your morning duties. They're boring. Look it over and ask questions now."

I looked it over. She wanted me to make sure the break room was clean and properly stocked. Check the office for anything that looked improper. I asked her what that meant.

"Trash cans the cleaning staff didn't change, coffee cups left out, anything that's broken. Bums sleeping in someone's office. That sort of thing."

"Has that ever happened?"

She laughed. "Not to me, but it did to a client once."

I scanned the rest of the list. It wasn't that long. "Supply cabinets properly stocked? How do I know what that should be?"

"You don't," she told me. "I checked yesterday and it was fine. That should give you a base line for the future. We order more supplies before we need them, so stay on top of it. Check daily, as surprises happen."

I nodded and headed off to take care of the list.

The break room took the most time. The cleaning staff didn't wash dishes. Nor, it appeared, did the employees. I washed up the dishes and set them in the rack to dry, then wiped down the counters and started a pot of coffee. I checked that there were napkins and things like that, then stood in the doorway and imagined I was a client. I frowned, then walked over, dried the coffee cups and put them away. Checking from the doorway again left me more satisfied.

I checked the rest of the office. I made notes on what the supply levels were at. I would type it up later and ask Veronica to review it. That part probably took longer than she would have preferred, but I decided she'd deal with it.

Everything looked fine except the glass in the front door had fingerprints on it. I didn't want anyone walking into Veronica's office and seeing dirty fingerprints. I went back to the break room, found cleaning supplies, and dealt with it. Then I remembered a couple of the computers had dirty screens and keyboards, so I cleaned them, too.

All in all, the list took me over an hour.

"Did you make coffee?" Veronica asked as I stood in her doorway.

"Yes."

She pushed her coffee mug to the edge of her desk. So I fetched coffee, adding exactly the amount of cream I knew she liked, then tasted it. It seemed okay.

When I brought the cup back, she noticed the extra pair of lipstick prints on the rim. She looked at me and grinned. "Do you want to explain that?"

"I've never made coffee before. You always make it. I didn't know if I'd made it right. I've drunk from your cup before, it didn't occur to me you'd mind." I paused. "Was that wrong?"

"No. But if you do it in the future, cover your tracks. It's just a little too obvious."

"You don't think everyone in the office already knows about us? We walk right past this door getting to your place."

"Of course they know," she said. "The clients don't. The ones I've worked with for a while know my orientation. But if they realized you're my girlfriend, they'll assume that's the only reason you got the job, and then they won't take you seriously. I will not have my assistant dismissed so easily. So cover your tracks, at least until a particular client learns you're no vapid airhead."

I grabbed a napkin and cleaned the edge of the coffee cup, then slid it back to her again.

"Pull a chair around. We're going through my email. We'll do it together this week. In the future, you'll be doing this for me and flagging the email I need to handle."

I pulled a chair around and she went through each piece with me, explaining who it was from, what it was about and what she would have expected me to do with it. Getting through it took us until half past eight. "There's a staff meeting at 9. Normally by now I'd be reviewing any client needs, but I already know where we sit. I'm going to show you about my appointment calendar."

She brought up some software on her computer. "A good assistant knows her boss's calendar by heart. She also knows the birthdates of everyone in the office, their spouses or partners, their kids, and that of any especially important clients. It's your job to be my walking encyclopedia. I don't expect that from the start, but I expect you to do your best at it over the summer."

I nodded, intimidated.

"If your job is to be my walking encyclopedia, but you don't have a photographic mind, what are you going to do about it?"

"Laptop?" I said.

"Too bulky, you can't carry it around." She smiled. "We'll deal with that at lunch."

She reviewed her appointment calendar with me, discussing briefly what each appointment was for and talked about lead times needed for travel. Then she had me fetch my laptop and showed me how to sync her schedule onto my computer, going both directions.

"Every morning when we come in, you will come around and sync my computer and yours. You may have to sync each twice so that we both have all the updates. You'll do that leaning over me if you have to. You'll do the same thing at least twice more during the day and then as the last thing before leaving the office." She grinned. "But do not wave your ass around if anyone else is in the office."

That took us to 9 and we headed for the conference room for the daily staff meeting. "Bring your computer and take notes. I will review them after to see how you did."

She sat down at the head of the table and set me to her left, bumping the person who was already there. It was the last time anyone occupied the seat to Veronica's left while I was present.

Once everyone arrived, she introduced me. As soon as the introductions were over and no one was paying attention to me, I took notes of who was there, where they sat, and some distinguishing feature so I'd remember who they each were. I kept careful notes of the meeting including any decisions that were made. I didn't understand most of it.

Back in her office, Veronica asked to see what I'd written. "Shit, Shane, you have tricks to teach me." I beamed. Then she asked if she needed to explain anything to me.

"It depends on whether I'm supposed to understand more than one in three words said during the meeting."

She laughed. Then she explained everything. That took us nearly until lunch.

She had me bring paper to a short design meeting. "Don't bother with notes unless I ask you to," she said. "But you must always be prepared to take them. Never be without a means of taking notes."

"Grab your purse and bring my laptop," she ordered. "Make sure you have paper and pen. I have a client meeting at 1:15. I wasn't going to bring you, but now I need to. You can be a fly on the wall."

So I toted and we got in her car and drove to the shopping mall.

"Lunch here?" I asked.

"Buying something first, then a quick lunch before the meeting," she said. She took us to the Apple store, walked up to the nearest sales clerk and said, "I need your top of the line iPad with a data plan and one of those cute little keyboards." She paid for it then she told the clerk, "Take it out and teach her how to use it."

"It's for me?" I asked her.

"It's a business computer. It's not for you. You will just be the one using it."

As we left the store, she explained. "If I'm going to have an assistant in this industry, she needs to be the best. That means using the best tools." She pointed to the shopping bag. "That can be carried anywhere, used while you're standing up, and carry all the data you need to do your job. I expect you to keep it with you at all times."

I leered.

"Don't be daft," she said to me, laughing. Then she thought about it. "And don't you dare use it for any of your naughty pictures."

"Damn," I said. "And he showed me the self portrait mode on the camera, too."

The client meeting was for a new potential client. "Fly on the wall here," she told me. "This is a sales call. It's potentially a very lucrative business, but she hasn't signed on the dotted line yet. And she's a prude, so behave."

We pulled up to a large home in suburbia. I carried Veronica's laptop and purse, my purse, and the new iPad in its case. We met with a woman named Sylvia Norbert, recent widow. She wanted a full house makeover while maintaining the existing charm of the house. I had no idea what that meant.

Veronica introduced me just as "Shane, my assistant," and then ignored me unless she was asking for something from her purse. I didn't sit at the table with them but stood a couple of steps behind Veronica and tried not to look bored. Halfway through the meeting, I was startled out of my contemplations when I heard Veronica ask, "Would you mind if my assistant photographs your home?"

"Of course," she said. "You may photograph anything you like, but please don't open any closed doors."

"There's a camera in my purse," Veronica told me. I found it, figured out how to turn it on, and took a couple of sample shots.

"Is there anything in particular I should make sure I get?"

Veronica gave me brief directions. I started by walking back to the car. I took photos from the street, both wide angle and closeups, making particular attention to the landscaping and trees. It was too early for leaves, but the snow was long gone, and I took photos of tree bark. I then gave myself a tour of the house, taking pictures as I went. Twice I checked on the status of the meeting before I felt I'd taken everything worth taking. I returned to the meeting but didn't say anything.

They wrapped up with the woman handing Veronica a check, which she slipped into a coat pocket. After that we left.

"Congratulations," I told her.

"Thank you," she said. She handed me the check. "You may look."

It was for fifty thousand dollars.

"It's a retainer," Veronica explained. "The final bill will be more than that."

"You just made fifty thousand dollars?"

"No, I just lined up about seventy five in business, but my profit on that will be around fifteen after all the related expenses." She paused. "That doesn't happen every day, so don't think I'm a rich woman ready to be fleeced." I laughed.

"When we get back to the office, load the pictures into the computer. I want to see them."

For the rest of the drive, we talked about how the rest of the day would go and asked if I had questions. Once we arrived back at the office, I followed her into her office. "Go load the photos, come back when you're done."

"Okay." I walked out of the room and walked right back in again.

"Shane, what are you doing? Go load the photos, I want to see them."

I walked over to her desk, fiddled with the iPad, then set it down on the desk in front of her. "From the street. Closeups of the flower gardens. They don't look like much right now. Bark off the trees, in case you wanted to use those colors as a design element. Front door. Foyer. Front door looking out the window. Details around the door. Crappy rug you need to replace." I stepped back. "I did it while you were still talking."

"Cheeky girl," she said, smiling and flipping through the pictures. "What's this?" She turned the iPad around.

"Some hideous sculpture in the back yard."

She looked at it again. I'd taken a half dozen photos of it. "If it's hideous, why so many photos."

"In case she likes it and you have to draw elements into the house."

"Go get Bob and Brian, please. And bring some coffee back for me."

I fetched the guys first, then the coffee. When I got back to her office, I entered quietly and set the coffee down for Veronica. I tried to be unobtrusive, but they all started staring at me.

"Do I have something in my teeth," I asked after a moment.

"You're her girlfriend," Bob told me. I looked at Veronica. She nodded.

"Yes."

"Where did she find you?"

"I picked her up at a party."

"You picked her up?" Brian asked. "Not the other way around?"

"I asked her to dance. Then I did a leg wrap on her. Her heart rate went up 20 points. I'd say I picked her up."

"You're in college." It wasn't a question. "Design school."

"No. I'm a freshman at Knightly. It's a liberal arts college. I'll probably be a business major. Economics, finance, management, that sort of thing."

By now Veronica was leaning back in her chair, watching the entire exchange and smirking at me.

"You took these pictures?" He paged through the photos on the iPad.

"Is there something wrong with them? Veronica told me to start at the front door and just get pictures of everything. So that's what I did."

"You took pictures of tree bark. And multiple pictures of this horrid sculpture in the back yard."

"I thought the old lady might like the sculpture, and if so, you might want to use design elements from it in the house. I thought the bark was interesting and that you might want to tie the inside of the house to what was going on outside. I tried to get shots of the garden, too, but nothing's blooming yet and it was just ugly."

The guys grilled me for another minute or two.

"It's my first day," I complained. "If there's something wrong with the pictures, go take them yourself." I stuck my chin out.

"There's nothing wrong with the pictures," said Bob.

"Then why are you being so mean to me?"

"They're trying to trip you up," Veronica said. "They think either I took the photos or that I coached you. Or maybe that you're a design student about to graduate. They're waiting for you to admit it." She smiled. "They made a bet. Bob thinks I took them. Brian thinks you're a design student. I told them if you could prove they were both wrong, that they both lost the bet and had to pay you."

"How big is the bet?"

"Twenty bucks," said Bob. "Who won?"

I smiled sweetly at them. "Does Veronica lie to you guys a lot? Is that why you didn't believe her?"

I grabbed my purse and pulled my Knightly student ID card and tossed it on Veronica's desk. I added my driver's license to show I was 19. "You can look up Knightly online. If they have design classes, I'll be shocked, but even if they do, I'm only a freshman. I wouldn't have taken any yet."

Then I took the iPad away, reset to the front of the photo album, found the photo I wanted, and then zoomed in. I handed it to Bob.

"It's blurry, but if you look in the window, you can see Sylvia and Veronica talking in the front room. Even if you can't tell it's Veronica," I played with my flaming red hair. "I don't think there's any way either of those people are me. Which means Veronica couldn't have taken the first few photos. I don't have any way to prove she didn't take the rest. I suppose if you're really really good you could tell that the photographer was my height, not hers, but I wouldn't know how to prove that. She could have crouched down for each shot, I guess." I took the iPad back then flipped through more images. I found one of the glass sculptures Syliva had that I'd photographed. I zoomed in on a reflection in the sculpture and gave them the iPad again.

"You can't make out any details, it's just a blurry smudge, but what is the hair color of the woman who took that photo?"

I put one hand on my hip and held out the other. "I'll take my money now."

Bob and Brian looked at each other. "We've been owned," said Bob.

"Totally," said Brian.

They fished out their wallets and each handed me twenty dollars. My back was up, so I folded the money and slipped it down the front of my blouse to sit in my bra. "Thank you, boys," I told them.

Veronica lost it at that point.

"I don't get what the big deal," I told them. "She told me to take photos. She told me where to start. She told me to shoot everything. I took the camera. I pointed it at stuff. I clicked the button. Rinse and repeat. What's the big deal?"

"Shane, sit done, the guys will tell you what you did right and what you did wrong."

So I sat down and they walked me through it. "Good," they said about the shots of the house. "Boring, but it's clear what house we're dealing with, and we can see exactly what the style of architecture is. Plus you took close ups of the more interesting architectural details."

They got to the tree bark. "Brian always shoots the plants when he goes out. For you to do it instinctively is surprising."

Then the gardens. "We didn't need these. They're ugly and don't tell us anything."

"I've got twenty bucks that says they do," I told them.

"Cheeky girl," Veronica said quietly, but she was still smirking.

I fished one of the twenties out of my bra, which earned a lot of attention from the guys. I slapped it down on Veronica's desk. "Let's see your money, boys," I told them.

They each fished their wallets out Bob pulled out two fives. Brian pulled out a twenty and took the fives. Once there was forty dollars on the desk, I said, "I know they're ugly. But you needed to know she has gardens and maybe what shape they are. I also thought it was possible you could tell what kind of flowers they are, even though I can't. But most importantly, you can't ask me, Why didn't you take better photos of the garden?"

I grabbed the money off the desk and shoved it into my bra.

The guys looked chagrined, but they didn't argue with me taking their money. We went through the rest of the photos. "These don't help us," they said about some of them. Or "we get the idea, you didn't need to take as many of these." But then they got to the photos of the sitting room. "You are clear where each room is. It's like a tour. And you shoot from multiple directions." Then they found a shot I had taken of the wall. There was a ray of sunlight slanting into the room, and I'd taken the photo so that half the wall was in direct sunlight, half not.

"I have twenty bucks that says that's a useful photo."

"No bet!" they both said. "But why is this useful>"

"Well, I figured you weren't going to maintain the color scheme, but in case you did, I thought it might be useful to see the current color both with direct and indirect sunlight."

"Shit," said Bob. "I thought it was just a mistake."

Brian went to the next photo. "You sat in a chair for this. You're working hard to show the rooms from multiple angles. Most people wouldn't have thought of that."

"I sat on the floor for some, too. And stood on a chair trying to be tall."

It took nearly 30 minutes to go through everything. In the end, I had an idea of what had impressed them, which meant I was more likely to be able to duplicate it if I had to do it again. There were a lot of photos we admitted weren't really worth the effort, but Bob pointed out that's always true. Better to take everything because you never know when you'll want something you hadn't anticipated again.

"How do I get the photos off here and onto my computer," Bob asked when we were done.

I got my laptop, connected the iPad, and pulled the photos from it. Wordlessly, Veronica handed me an external drive to move the photos to. I copied the photos and then handed it to Bob. "Do you need me to copy them onto your computer for you?"

* * *

Veronica declared our work day was over promptly at six. A twelve-hour day, and she did this all the time? I was mentally exhausted.

She didn't say anything as we locked the office up and turned to her apartment. We stepped in the door and I immediately kicked off my shoes. She locked the door, grabbed me and slammed me against the door, then pressed herself against me and her mouth was all over mine. She ravaged me with her mouth then pulled me away and started pushing me into the apartment. Push. Pursue and catch. Shove me against a wall and kiss me. I fell onto the couch and she followed after me, climbing on top of me and kissing me ferociously.

Finally she calmed down and climbed off of me, collapsing to the couch and panting.

"Boss," I said. "Is that some sort of benefit of working at your company?"

"Oh Shane," she said. "You were brilliant today. And that entire thing with Bob and Brian. I thought I was going to die laughing. You called them boys! They're each at least 10 years older than you. And you were calling them boys."

I fished the money out of my bra. "Was stuffing the money down there over the top?"

"Yes," she told me, "but it was perfect. Sometimes over the top is exactly what's required. Neither of them are going to think you got the job just because you're my girlfriend, and the entire story will be all over the office by the staff meeting tomorrow."

She cuddled up to me. "Shane, I am so proud of you."

I put my head on her shoulder. "I didn't want to embarrass you," I said. "But Veronica, I'm so tired."

"Aw, poor baby. How does a bubble bath and order out Chinese sound?"

"That sounds lovely."

She got up, telling me, "Wait here." First she found her phone and ordered our dinner. They she went to the bathroom and started drawing the path. While the tub was filling, she came out, pulled me to my feet, and had all my clothes off me and my mouth thoroughly ravaged before the tub was ready. She helped me get settled in then scampered away.

"Hey!" I protested. "You're not making me soak alone, are you?"

"Only until the food arrives," I said. "I don't want to answer the door wearing nothing but soap bubbles."

"I didn't think of that," I said. "I guess that's why you're the boss."

She laughed. She made several trips back and forth to the bathroom, setting up a little stool for the food to sit on, lighting candles, that sort of thing. I heard the doorbell, and shortly after she brought the food in, setting up plates and serving me. She looked around, said, "one more thing."

When she came back, she was just as naked as I was and was carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. She poured us each a glass, handed one to me, and then climbed into the tub.

I stared at the wine.

"Veronica," I said as she settled in at the other end of the tub, sighing blissfully. "I may have been brilliant at work, I don't know. I guess that's for you to judge. But I'm pretty sure I didn't suddenly turn from 19 to 21 just like that."

"Special occasion," she said. "Have you ever had alcohol before?"

"Yes."

"I won't give you a second glass. And I may not ever offer you another glass before your 21st birthday. But that glass is your choice."

She took a sip from hers then reached over to grab a wonton.

The wine was very good.

I asked how Veronica kept up the schedule.

"It's not any different than weight training," she said. "You build up the right muscles. Still, some days seem longer than others. I did warn you about the hours."

"I'm not complaining," I replied. "Just asking."

We soaked for a while and ate while hanging off the edge of the tub. It felt very decadent. Then we cuddled in the tub until the water started to chill.

She helped me stand up. We took turns drying each other. Then, wearing nothing but bath towels, we cuddled in front of the television for a while. We'd never done that before, our time together had always been so hectic.

"This is nice," I said.

We were in bed and asleep by nine.

Friday went a lot like Thursday had. I went for a run and wondered what was going to happen to my weight training schedule. I vowed to talk to Veronica about it. We had a working lunch. At four, Veronica sent everyone home for the weekend, and she and I were done shortly after that. When we got back to the apartment, she kissed me then asked me how I was feeling.

"Not bad," I said. "Not as tired as yesterday, but we quit earlier."

"There's a milonga tonight. Would you like to go?"

"Yes!" I said. "Can we? I can dance a few dances in my heels, but I'll have to switch to flats eventually. Will that bother you?"

She shook her head. "The milonga doesn't start until nine. Whatever shall we do to fill the time?"

"Maybe we should go to bed so we're well rested for a night of dancing."

"That's an excellent suggestion!"

Twenty minutes later and I was screaming her name into a gag. Once she released me, I prowled out to the kitchen, raided the fridge, and came back with everything I could fine. I fed her little bites while we chatted.

We talked and chatted and took turns feeding each other until it was time to get ready for dancing. I asked Veronica if I could wear the dress Jeremy made for me. "Oh yes," she said. "I was hoping you would."

Milonga is a confusing word. It refers to a style of Argentine tango dancing, the type of music one would milonga to, and also is the name of the dance event where one engages in all the tango dancing. The last use of the word is thus the tango equivalent of a sock hop. So if someone says, "There's a milonga tonight," what they mean is that there is an event tonight at which tango music will be played and people will be dancing.

The milonga that night was hosted by one of the local dance instructors. It was held at a restaurant with a beautiful wood floor, small, but perfect for dancing. We arrived and Veronica guided me to the back where the dance was being held. I could have followed the music. When we arrived, there were about six couples dancing to a traditional tune. There were another fifteen or so people hanging around talking. It was an intimate setting for an intimate group.

Veronica introduced me to several people. I tried to remember their names. Then she asked me to dance. We moved onto the dance floor, I stepped into her arms, and pressed my forehead to her cheek. We began to dance.

"Are we the only gay couple here," I asked her.

"I think so," she said quietly. "But I see Sue dancing with Amy. Sue is the hostess tonight. She'll want to dance with you. We aren't out of place. Would you care if we were?"

"No, I just like to know the score."

She offered a complicated move at me. I handled it with grace, which left me feeling good.

"Does everyone know we're a couple?"

"I don't know everyone here," she said. "Of those I know, some know I'm gay. Some don't. I suspect more of them will figure it out when I kiss you during the cortina."

The song ended and another began right away. Veronica started inviting more moves, some of them complicated, so there wasn't time to talk. I had to focus on my dancing. Then I realized she kept asking for the same move a lot, and always when my back was facing a certain direction.

"Are you showing off my ass?" I asked her.

"Sure am," she said. "Making sure you get more dance partners, that's all."

"Liar," I said.

She giggled, but then she invited the same move again. I added a little flourish to it, then back led enough to enter into a leg wrap on her. I moved my calf up and down hers briefly before I let her put me back on my feet.

"Cheeky girl."

The song ended and the music turned into the cortina. The cortina is a segment of music that isn't danceable. It's used to break the music up typically into tiny sets of three or four songs. You dance one set with the same partner but when the cortina comes, it's time to change partners.

True to her word, dead in the middle of the dance floor, Veronica began kissing me. I threw myself into it. We didn't come up for air until the next song started. This set was a milonga, which has a different flavor than tango. Veronica held onto me and we began to dance.

She kissed me briefly during the next cortina, too, but then she drew me to the side of the dance floor. We both were immediately asked to dance. Veronica didn't even glance at me but accepted her offer from a tall, well-dressed man. Another man was at my elbow, waiting for my response. "Sure."

He was okay, but I would rather have danced with Veronica. At the cortina, I thanked him.

Veronica was still on the dance floor, this time with someone else. A woman came up to me and asked if I wanted to dance. "I'd love to."

She was better than Veronica. I couldn't tell at first, as she kept it simple, but then she began asking for more complicated steps, and at least for a while, I kept up. When she invited a leg wrap, I gave her one. The song ended. She settled me properly on my feet then introduced herself. "I'm Sue, the hostess tonight."

"Shane."

"Who is your instructor?" she asked me.

"Oh, I just get the occasional lesson here and there when I can." I said. "None here in town though."

We danced through to the cortina, and I had a lovely time. I wasn't as good a dancer as she was, but I think she had a nice time, too. I thanked her at the cortina, and she asked me if it were okay to ask me to dance again later. I told her I'd like that.

That pretty much defined the evening. I would dance with Veronica, then she would give me up for a few partners before hunting me down and dancing with me again. It was a lovely night, but my feet were ready to be done before the music was.

* * *

The rest of the weekend was equally lovely. Monday morning arrived way too soon.

I acquitted myself quite well all week. Veronica seemed pleased and proud of me. Bob and Brian fought over me when they both had simultaneous appointments with clients and asked Veronica if they could bring me along to take their photos.

On Wednesday I received an email from my mother. "Please join us for dinner on Saturday."

I asked Veronica, "Would you like to meet my parents? You'd have to be my boss, not my lover."

"I'd love to meet your parents."

I called Mom and asked her if she and Dad would like to meet my boss. "You understand she's not just my boss, she's a friend and is mentoring me about business." So I got an invitation for Veronica to dinner.

We finished out the work week. Veronica invited me to a party some friends of hers were holding Saturday. "We can have dinner with your parents, chat for a while, then show up to the party about nine." She grinned. "You can wear a blouse over your corset, can't you?"

"No," I said. "I don't hug my father, but I hug my mother, and she'll feel it. But I can try changing in the car afterwards."

Saturday while we were getting dressed, Veronica asked me, "Do your parents drink?"

"Yes," I said.

I dressed in one of my conservative dresses. When Veronica saw it she just sighed. She dug through her closet for a while before picking a black skirt, white blouse, and black scarf. She looked a lot like she did the night we met. But my parents wouldn't find anything wrong.

We arrived right at six. Veronica shook hands with Mom, Dad and Matt, then handed my father a bottle of wine. "I didn't know what we were having, so I hope a California red is okay."

I kept at least three feet between Veronica and me at all times. I was so nervous I was afraid I might reach out and start holding her hand if I got any closer. My folks didn't notice anything wrong.

Dinner was a roast. I helped Mom in the kitchen to get everything to the table. Dad and Veronica stayed in the living room, discussing business. Then we all sat down. Mom put Veronica next to me, and I spent the meal with my leg pressed against hers under the table where no one would see.

"Your daughter is brilliant," Veronica said once everyone had been served. "The entire office is very impressed." She told the story about the photographs, leaving out the racier bits.

"We're very proud of her," my mother said. "We were so worried the last couple of years. She seemed so troubled. She stopped dating, stopped having any social life at all. She skipped her prom and all the other senior activities. She continued to get good grades, but she was clearly troubled about something. And then she had that accident last summer and we thought we'd lost her."

Mom paused, wiping a tear from her eye. "But after that, she bounced back. She's gotten straight A's so far at school, and I understand she started dating again."

"I don't think you should be dating," Dad told me. "Focus on school. You have plenty of time to meet guys after college."

"Now dear," Mom said. "We talked about this. Dating is an important ritual in college. We're not sending Shane to a prestigious college and then telling her she isn't to make any connections."

"What's this about last summer?" Veronica asked quietly. "If you don't mind my asking."

"I got hit by a train," I told her. "I'll tell you about it sometime. I came out of it okay."

"She was in a coma for a week," Matt said. "You should have seen her. She was black and blue everywhere."

She looked over at me. "You almost died? You'd think that's something you would have told me."

"I'm sorry, Boss," I told her. "I didn't think it was important."

She got the point and let it drop but instead asked my Dad about his job. Conversation remained on safer topics, and I decided I'd dodged a bullet.

We had a nice time with my parents, bidding them goodbye at eight. Veronica was quiet as we drove away. I climbed into the back seat and began to wrestle myself out of the dreaded conservative dress and into the corset. I managed to get everything mainly in the right place before climbing back into the front again.

Veronica leered at me briefly. I was spilling out of the bodice and would until she'd tightened my laces for me. I couldn't reach them.

We had a nice time at the party. Veronica introduced me openly as her lover, then took great glee in telling embarrassing stories about how much fun she was having "training me in." I probably would have been angry with her, except even I found the stories funny. And hot.

But all that good will ended in the car.

"Start talking," she said sternly.

"About what?" I asked innocently. "I had a nice time tonight."

"Do not be coy with me. Your mother said some interesting things about you, things I think should have come up in our conversations by now."

"It was an accident. I lived. End of story."

"How does someone get hit by a train?"

We pulled into the parking garage, so I ignored the question as we took the elevator to the apartment. I kept hoping she'd drop it.

"Spill. NOW."

"I'm not crazy."

"What? I never said you were crazy. Where is that coming from?"

"I'm not suicidal." I added.

"Where is this coming from? You are the happiest person I've ever met. Of course you're not suicidal."

"That's not happiness," I said, trying to deflect her. "It's sexual satiation."

"Being cheeky isn't going to distract me," she said. "SPILL."

"I got hit by a train downtown, okay? I lived. Someone else died. If I say anything else, it's going to make you think I'm crazy. I don't want to sound crazy."

She stared at me. "Fine, we'll come back to you ALMOST DYING. What was going on for TWO YEARS that your parents were worried about you? Why did you stop dating?"

"Teenage angst," I told her. "Everyone goes through it. It was a phase. I got over it."

"Teenage angst my ass. You lied to me."

"I did not! When did I lie to you?"

"You lied to me when you told me you only figured out this past fall that you were gay. You've known for two years, haven't you?"

"No." I said. "I didn't figure it out until Janice and Kelly taped me up and teased me for an hour and a half, and all I wanted was for Janice to kiss me. That's when I figured it out, but even then I was in denial for several more weeks. I was dating boys until that. Did I tell you why they tied me up?"

"No, actually, you didn't."

So I told her the story about the boy I'd teased.

She started to believe me. She wanted to believe me. Then her expression got hard. "You're still lying about something. I don't know what, but you are."

"I have not lied to you about a single thing!" A tear started down my cheek. "I may not have told you everything, but I haven't ever lied to you. Never. Not once. And it's not like you've told me every detail of your life before we met."

"I've told you about every time I stepped in front of a train to commit suicide," she said quietly. "Because I was too afraid to tell my parents I was gay."

"It wasn't like that," I said quietly.

"Someone died, Shane. Doesn't that bother you?"

"I died, Veronica. Me! I died. I didn't step in front of a train to commit suicide. Shane did. And I tried to save her. And I died. Shane was hurt and in a comma, but her soul was in tatters and couldn't come back. So I did." I wound down, looked away. "I'm not Shane. I'm just in her body. I don't even know what my own name is."

I didn't say anything for a while. I just cried quietly. Veronica tried to wipe a tear away, but I jerked away. "Don't. You don't get to comfort the crazy girl. Just let her cry. After all, she tried to commit suicide and got someone killed, and then doesn't even show any remorse. What kind of bitch must she be?"

I finally turned to her. She had drawn away. "I know it sounds crazy."

"Just tell me all of it, Shane. Honey. Please. I need to know. Just tell me."

So I did, all of it, as best I could. I finished the story.

"And now, there are three possible explanations," I told her. "The most obvious is that I'm bat shit crazy. The next best choice is that I'm making it all up. And running a very distant third is that it's all true."

"I don't know what to believe," she told me.

"Consider more of the evidence. I know I have. First, you can find news articles about the accident. You can find my name. And you can find that someone else died. But what's interesting? The articles don't tell you one single thing about the person who tried to save me. Shouldn't that person be lauded a hero? Shouldn't a name be shared? Maybe a photo? Something? Go look. I have. I can't find any reference to who tried to pull me out from in front of the train. Just that someone had, and that person died. You can't even find out if it was a man or a woman. Nothing. It's like that person didn't exist."

She didn't say anything, so I continued. "Next, you've said it yourself, and I know Victoria said something about it too. A lot of the times I appear to be just what I seem. 19 and naive. But other times I do things or say things that only someone a lot older than 19 would say or do. Like calling guys ten years older than me boys, and completely wrapping them around my finger like it was nothing."

I looked her in the eye. "It happens all the time, where I surprise you by how mature I seem to be. And then other times I'm clearly barely a woman."

I looked away. "I wonder where I learned to swing dance. I don't remember ever taking a lesson. I have almost all of Shane's memories, and not a single one of them involve formal dance lessons. And even if that's not enough, where the hell does a 19-year-old girl learn to tango without everyone in town knowing about it?"

I stared at her. "I tango like someone who has had at least five years, perhaps ten years of lessons. Furthermore, I can lead, too. Do you want to explain that? Because I tell you, Veronica, I can't. I can't tell you how I could be bat shit crazy and suddenly learn to tango. I can't tell you how I could have lied about everything I just told you and still managed to learn to tango without anyone knowing. What? I learned from watching movies?"

I looked away. "You have to decide. You have to decide if it matters. You have to decide if now that you think I'm bat shit crazy you still want me." The tears were flowing down my cheeks again. "You have to decide if you're going to call the guys in the little white coats to come get me because I clearly am suffering from multiple personality disorder."

I looked back at her. "But I have never ever lied to you."

She still hadn't said anything. "Go get your handcuffs," I told her.

"What?"

"Go get your god damned handcuffs!"

She was shocked, but she disappeared into the bedroom for a moment, then came back out with them.

"What am I doing with these?"

I got off the couch, walked to one of the pillars in the room, wrapped my arms around it, then told her. "Cuff me."

"Why?"

"Do it. Cuff me. Cuff the crazy girl."

"No."

"Do it!"

She walked over to me and gently cuffed my wrists together while I hugged the pillar. "Tighter," I ordered. "I could slip out right now and you know it."

She tightened the restraints properly, but I could tell she wasn't happy.

"Why are you making me do this?"

"Because I couldn't stand wondering if you were sneaking behind my back to get me committed to a mental hospital," I replied. "If you're going to do it, don't sneak around. Have the guts to do it in front of me. Call them now and have them come get me. I can't get away, you can call them right in front of me. You'll break my heart, but I can't escape. If you think I'm going to step in front of another train, get someone else killed, or just that I'm bat shit crazy, then call them. Right now. Waiting would be cruel."

"This is all crazy, Shane."

"Why the hell do you think I didn't want to tell you? Do you think I haven't figured out it's crazy? If you can come up with an explanation that fits all the facts, I'd love to hear it. But you don't get to pick and choose. Where did I learn to tango?"

She walked away from me and I began to sob.

But she came back, pulling a chair with her, then got her laptop.

"When was the accident?"

"July third last summer."

She started doing searches. She found a couple of articles about me but not about the person who had died saving me. No name, no photo, nothing, just a brief mention someone died saving Shane.

"Where did you go to high school?" I told her and she did more searches. That got her nowhere. "Your class yearbook is online," she told me. "There's a photo of you but no references to you engaged in any school activities.

"You were fifty?"

"Or so, it's not clear."

"Where were you when you heard Reagon got shot?"

"I'd just come home from school. The television was on in the kitchen. Mom was watching it. She told us. We watched the news together."

"First moon landing?"

"Mom got my brother and I out of bed and took us outside. She pointed to the moon and said, there were people walking on the moon right now. I remember looking at it then telling her, I don't see them, Mommy."

A tear started down her cheek. I hadn't seen her cry before. I started sobbing again.

"I'm not crazy, but if you call them, I'll understand," I said through the sobbing.

She got up and stepped up behind me. She loosened the laces of the corset. I hadn't even realized I was still wearing it. I was getting used to it. I was going to miss it in the loony bin.

Then she kissed the back of my neck.

That's when I really started sobbing. She walked around me and undid the handcuffs. I collapsed into her arms, and she had to half carry me to bed.

She helped me out of the clothes while I continued to cry. She helped me into bed. She took her own clothes off and climbed in next to me. Then she held me while I cried myself out.

Once I settled down, she spoke quietly. "It's crazy, but I don't have any other explanations."

I started crying again and she let me. Once those tears abated, she started speaking again.

"I want a promise from you, and you damned well better give it."

"Roni, I'm not remotely suicidal. I am not going to do anything to hurt myself."

"I couldn't stand losing you," she said, shaking me a little. "Do you understand me? You are not allowed to leave me. If you begin thinking about anything like that, you come talk to me and we'll fix it."

"Roni, I promise, if I ever even have a fleeting thought of doing anything to hurt myself, I'll talk to you. But it's not an issue. Shane was afraid to tell her parents, and she believed all that bullshit some people spew. But that's not me, okay?"

"One more thing."

"Yes Roni?"

"Just because you're older than I am, do not forget that I am the dominant one in this relationship. You belong to me!"

"Yes, Roni. I belong to you. And I'm still going to be a cheeky girl."

We talked quietly through the night, not falling asleep until dawn was just peeking through on the horizon. She asked me what I knew about my former life. "Almost nothing. I couldn't have told you if I were male or female. I had a job I was good at, but I didn't feel particularly inspired by it. It was just a job. I don't remember my name."

I thought about it. "I had a brother. And I had a dog." I couldn't remember what kind of dog.

"I know what gender you were," she told me. "You were a woman."

"How do you know?"

"Because you follow too well to have been a man. Some men learn to follow, but never that well."

"Dance teachers do."

"You're good, but not that good."

"Argentinian men might?"

She started speaking to me in Spanish. I didn't understand what she said.

"Besides, any Argentino who could follow as well as you do is probably a better dancer than you are, as good as you are."

I thought about it for a while. "I could still have been a man," I told her. "God might have fiddled to confuse the issue."

"Occam's razor," she said. "The simplest explanation is the most likely."

We lied there for a while.

"You probably knew me."

"No one I know died last year."

"The dance community is small. You knew me."

"You could have been from out of town. And it appears that someone covered his tracks, so I bet we can't find you."

"Her."

"Her who."

"God's a her."

"Oh. How fitting."

We dozed briefly. "Roni?"

"Yes, Love?"

"Do you remember when I told you there was a story about someone who once told me to be myself, and she had been the only person who ever did?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"That was she. She also told me to trust my instincts."

"What do your instincts tell you?"

"That meeting you was the best thing that could ever have happened to me."

She cuddled in tighter, kissing my head for a while. My hair tickled her face and she complained but told me she'd punish me if I ever cut it.

"Love?"

"Yes?"

"What do you want me to call you?"

"Love is good."

She laughed. "You know what I mean."

"I'm Shane. Just a different Shane than my parents realize. But I'm the same Shane you met. I'm not pod Shane anymore."

"Pod Shane?"

"Yeah, from Invasion of the Body Snatchers. A really campy film from when I was a teenager."

"Stay here."

She got up, got her computer, and looked it up. "1978. The year I was born."

She climbed back into bed.

"Roni?"

"Yes, Shane?"

"Are you going to give me to the guys in the white jackets?"

"No."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I don't think you're crazy."

I kissed her, then pulled away and looked at her. "Roni?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Can I make love to you now?"

Chapter 10: Family Sucks

Spring term started. It was nice seeing Molly again. We compared notes. She loved the story about the pictures I'd taken, and the sixty bucks I'd won off Bob and Brian for them. She'd met her family in Colorado and had spent the week skiing the last of the snow off the mountains. She'd met a guy during the trip whose company she'd enjoyed, but she wasn't interested in pursuing a long distance relationship.

"Frankly, I watch you and Veronica, and I see how hard that is. I can't imagine The Suck being in different states would be."

I told her we'd had some fights, so she grinned and said, "How was the make up sex?"

"Pretty damned good," I admitted. "But last night, Veronica's the one who was screaming my name."

Molly immediately stuffed her fingers in her ears and started saying, "La, la, la, la, la, I can't hear you!"

"Well, if it's any consolation," I told her. "She doesn't scream. She whispers." I grinned at her. "I, however, scream."

He fingers flew back into her ears. I just laughed and decided I'd teased enough.

* * *

Veronica and I had one small difficult patch two weekends later. She'd started treating me differently, and I didn't like the change. Oh, she was being perfectly proper, almost solicitous. But she'd stopped being dominant, and I didn't like that, not at all.

So I started acting up. I arrived Friday on the bus earlier than she was expecting. I dropped my things off at the apartment then turned around and headed over to the office. Before I stepped in, I unbuttoned my blouse to a dangerously unprofessional fashion.

She was in a meeting with one of the designers, so I knocked on the door to her office and said, "Hey, Roni. I just wanted to let you know I took the bus up." I stood in the doorway making sure everyone saw me. "Okay, you're busy, Roni, so I'll be next door. Bye."

Remember, her name in public was supposed to be Veronica. I didn't understand why she let Victoria and Wendy call her Roni, but she'd been pretty clear with me. And I'd called her that twice in front of staff, and she didn't even flinch. I didn't get a warning look or anything. What the hell?

Veronica hated clutter. So I took my stuff and I spread it all over. I changed clothes and left my old ones spread across the bed. Then I found a newspaper, opened it to the comics page, then left it sitting on the sofa like that. Finally I took all my homework and spread it all over the dining room table, even creating a couple of piles on the floor. I surveyed all my work then decided, "In for a penny, in for a pound." I changed into a sweatshirt I'd brought with me.

She showed up about an hour later. I was laying on the floor with my feet on her coffee table, listening to my MPEGs for class. She saw me and saw the mess, but instead of telling me to clean it up, she did it herself. I pretended not to notice.

"I'm bored and hungry," I told her. "Take me to dinner."

She didn't even flinch at my demanding tone. "Okay, let's get dressed."

"I'll go like this."

She didn't say a word, just went to the bedroom and began to change. I waited until she was done and getting her shoes on, then said, "You know, maybe I'll change after all."

I took my time.

Not a word from her about it.

At the restaurant, I called her Roni twice in front of the waiter. Not a word of complaint. We got back and I decided to give up for now. I asked her what she'd like to do. She said she was tired and wondered if we could just cuddle with a movie. I was tired of being a brat, and cuddling with her sounded really nice, so I behaved the rest of the evening.

We didn't make love that night.

Saturday I woke up and was determined to knock some domme back into her if it killed me. I started by making coffee. She liked her coffee with just a little cream and no sugar. So I skipped the cream entirely and added two scoops of sugar. She drank it.

So I started studying for a while, reading on the sofa. Veronica was reading the paper. That lasted for just a few minutes before I set the books aside and said, "I'm tired of taking care of my hair. It's too much work. Can you recommend a good hairdresser?"

That got some attention. "I like your hair long."

"I'm thinking of a little pixie cut. Won't that be cute?"

She didn't say a word. Shit.

So I went digging through the kitchen and found a pair of scissors and came back out. I sat on the sofa. She was ignoring me. I snipped the scissors in the air, and that got her attention. "What are you doing?"

"I thought I'd cut it myself." This next part almost killed me to do, but I thought about where it would be least obvious. I cut a lock from the back of my neck, leaving at most about two inches of hair remaining. I dropped two feet of red hair on the floor. "Don't worry, I'll clean it all up when I'm done."

I hoped that I had so much hair that I'd be able to hide the damage I was doing. And I was really, really hoping she stopped me soon. I cut out another lock and dropped it.

"What did I tell you I would do to you if you ever cut your hair?"

I shrugged. "Punish me? I can't remember." And then, trying not to let her see me wince as I did it, I cut another lock.

"Stop it!" she screamed. She flew over to me and wrestled the scissors from me. She shoved my head down so she could see the damage I'd done. "God damn it, Shane, this looks like shit. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with me," she said. "You're the one cutting her own hair like a crazy woman."

That was low. Then she realized what she said. "Shane, I didn't mean it like that."

I reached for the scissors but was really happy when she didn't let me have them. "Knock it off! Are you trying to make me punish you?"

She saw the look of victory in my face. I'd finally woken her up.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You've been pushing my buttons since you got here yesterday."

At least she'd noticed. I just thrust my chin out at her.

"It's almost as if you've been doing it intentionally. And then you started trashing your beautiful hair."

"No almost about it, Veronica," I said quietly. "How was your coffee this morning?"

I got up to go look in the bathroom mirror to see how bad I'd butchered my hair. "You get your ass back here!" she yelled. "We aren't done."

I stopped for a moment. She was almost there, but not quite. "Bite me," I told her then proceeded into the bathroom.

My hair looked like shit. I messed with it trying to hide the damage. I didn't have a clue how to fix it. I hoped Veronica got her shit together and punished the crap out of me for it. I didn't want this to have been for nothing.

I walked back into the living room to see where we sat. She was sitting quietly. She looked at me when I walked in. I stopped, and we stared at each other from across the room.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Fuck." I said. I was a brat, intentionally pushing her buttons as hard as I could, and she was apologizing?

"Shut up," she ordered. "Get your ass over and get on your knees in front of me. RIGHT NOW."

I stared at her and began to smile, then crossed the room and lowered myself to my knees directly in front of her.

"I owe you for four Ronis, two of them in front of my staff, no less, a messy apartment, demanding I take you to dinner, a truly horrible cup of coffee, cutting your hair, and a Bite Me, and now a Fuck. You do not want to add to that list."

"You forgot the sweatshirt and then making you wait for me while I changed clothes."

"I will be burning that sweatshirt," she assured me.

She grabbed my chin with her hand, squeezing my cheeks and forcing me to look at her. "You could have just talked to me," she said quietly.

"If my behavior yesterday didn't get your attention, a normal conversation wouldn't have," I told her.

"You're probably right," she said. "Thank you."

I leaned into her and hugged her. "I thought I'd lost the Veronica I loved. I didn't like this new Veronica, not at all."

She was looking at the back of my neck, trying to move my hair around. "God, Shane, did you have to trash your hair?"

"I thought you'd stop me faster. Can it be fixed?"

"I know a very good hair dresser, but we won't get an appointment today. You're going to have to live with it for a few days."

She pushed me back up so I was kneeling at attention in front of her. "Ice or pinwheel," she asked me.

"You're really going to punish me? I did all this for you!"

"Ice or pinwheel? Or do you want me to come up with something new?"

* * *

That was the last time we had any problems like that. Veronica returned to what seemed like normal to me, and as April became May, we were both completely, totally in love. We started planning for the summer.

I never established a routine for how often I talked to my parents. It was hit or miss, which thinking about it now seems strange, as I was so into routines with everything else. But I called home on a Tuesday, excited to tell Mom about plans for the summer.

"I've been talking to Veronica," I told her over the phone. "She's so pleased with how much I learned in just a week over spring break and is looking forward to my helping out over the summer. She even has a couple of business trips planned, and she said I'll be going with her."

"Shane," my mother said. "Your father and I have been talking about that. He wants you to work at his office this summer instead. You'll come home for the summer."

"What?" I said. "No, I have a job already, one I'm good at."

"Hang on, dear, your father is getting on the other line." I head clicking, and then my father's voice.

"Listen to your mother," he told me. "She and I have discussed it, and this is best for you."

"I like my job! I like working for Veronica. She's been very good to me, and she says I couldn't possibly learn as much working anywhere else than what she can teach me."

"We don't want you spending any more time with that woman," Dad said. "She's not good for you."

"What are you talking about? She's been great to me," I replied, starting to get angry.

"Honey," Mom said. "Your father and I don't like the way she looks at you."

I didn't say anything I was so surprised.

"So you can call her and tell her that you can't work for her this summer, and then we never want you to talk to her again," my dad said.

"No." I said. "I won't. I am an adult, and I make my own decisions now. Stop trying to treat me like a child. I will not tolerate it."

"Do not backtalk like that to your father, Shane," mother said sternly. "This is for the best."

"It's my life," I said, "I am an adult. And I will decide what is best for me."

"Shane Elizabeth," said my father angrily. "When you are no longer living on the money I earn, you can make those decisions. Until then, you will do what you are told. You will terminate your relationship with that woman, and you will do it today."

I heard him click off.

"This is for your own good, Shane," mother said, trying to be soothing. "Now, hang up and call her. It's best to do it right away. We love you, Shane." And then she hung up, too.

I screamed at the phone, then set it down and tried to determine what my choices were.

School was important to me. I knew that. I knew if I asked, Veronica would happily support me while I found whatever job I could get after dropping out of school, but I wasn't going to do that.

I'd once told her I wouldn't drop out of school for her. I tried to decide if that still applied. Then I began crying. I called her while I was sobbing.

"Veronica," I said.

"What's wrong?"

I bubbled at her. I don't think she understood a word I said.

"Is Molly there?"

"No," I said.

"I'm driving down. I'll be there in 45 minutes. Okay. I'm on my way."

"Okay," I said, blubbering.

She must have called Molly, because 5 minutes she showed up in the dorm. She'd be in the library. She dropped her books in the doorway, closed the door, and rushed to me.

"What happened?" Molly asked. I tried to explain, but I'm not sure I made much sense. Molly must have gotten the gist of it, because she just wrapped her arms around me and held me. "Family sucks," she said. "Veronica is on her way."

By the time Veronica showed up, I'd stopped crying. Molly and I were sitting on my bed. Veronica knocked once, then opened the door and stepped in. Molly got off the bed, dragged Veronica out of the room, and told her what she'd managed to figure out. Veronica came back in, crossed the room, to me, then pulled me into her arms when I started sobbing again.

"There there," she said. "I'll fix this."

"You can't!" I wailed. "You'll never change their minds. You're the last person they'll listen to now."

She rocked me back and forth. "Veronica, I don't have a choice." I blubbered all over her shirt.

She just rocked me and kept saying, "I'll fix this. I'll fix this."

I eventually calmed down. She pushed me away and looked into my face.

"I have to ask you some questions. Can you answer?"

I nodded.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Am I just a fling, or in your heart, are you thinking about forever?"

I threw myself back into her arms, blubbering again. "Forever, Veronica, forever. But I don't have a choice. I need to finish school. I need to."

She held me again for a while, then pushed me away.

"I can fix this," she said. I looked away, not believing her, but she shook me. "You have to trust me. I can fix this. Do you want me to?"

"How can you ask that? Of course I want you to fix it. But you can't."

"I need a week. I will have this fixed by next Tuesday." Then she shook me again. "Shane, if your heart really says Forever, I will fix this, but I need a week."

"I want forever," I told her. "You're my only. If not you, then no one."

She hugged me and kissed me on the forehead, then just rocked me back and forth for a while.

Molly came back eventually. "How is she?" she asked Veronica quietly. I had gone numb a while ago and wasn't being very responsive to anything. Veronica laid me down on my pillow, where I curled up into a ball, and stepped out of the room with Molly. They were gone for a few minutes before they both came back.

Veronica came over and kneeled on the floor next to the bed where I could see her. She brushed my hair.

"Honey, I will fix this. You have to trust me." She stroked my hair, looking worried and sad. "Honey, you must promise me. No trains."

My eyes grew wide. I wasn't thinking like that at all. "I won't do that," I told her. "I've already promised that."

"Promise it again."

"I promise."

She kissed me. I was a wreck, but she kissed me. I was sure it was the last time I'd ever get kissed again.

She and Molly hugged for a moment and I heard Veronica tell Molly, "Take care of her for me, please."

"I will."

Veronica let herself out and I began sobbing again, completely convinced it was the last time I was going to see her.

Molly crawled onto the bed with me and just stroked my hair while I cried. I calmed down, and she snuggled against me and just held me. We lied like that for a while, then she slowly got off the bed, stood in front of me, and pulled me into a sitting position. She started unbuttoning my blouse.

"I thought you liked boys," I told her, swatting her hands away.

"Stop it," she said. "I do like boys. I'm just getting you ready for bed." Then she pulled my clothes off me, got my pajamas, and dressed me like she might have a little sister. She gave me tissues to clean up and dragged me to the bathroom to brush my teeth. She brought me back to our room, pulled the covers back, pushed me in gently, turned out the lights, then crawled in after me. She held me while I went to sleep.

By morning she had moved to her own bed. Wednesday was a class day, but for the first time ever, I skipped my classes. I didn't get out of bed except to use the bathroom.

When Molly got back from her own classes that afternoon, she looked at me still in bed. She came over, knelt on the floor in front of me, and said, "I'll give you today. Tomorrow you are studying, and Friday you are going to classes. Do you hear me?"

I nodded. She was right.

On Saturday she made me work out. Sunday she went biking with me. Monday was another day for classes and I got myself out of bed for a run before class.

Chapter 11: A New Plan

Veronica only had one more day in the week she had asked for. I kept vacillating between hoping she'd come talk me into dropping out so I could be with her and knowing I was never going to hear from her again.

Monday, ten minutes after my last class, my cell rang. It was Veronica.

"Roni?" I said, starting to cry again.

"Dry your tears and listen to me," she said. "I have a fix."

"No you don't," I said.

"Do not contradict me, geeky girl!" she said. "I will be down for dinner. I'll be a little late, so please be in your room waiting. You can have a snack, but be ready to go to dinner."

"If you asked me, I'll drop out," I told her, sure that I would.

She paused. "I thought about it," she told me. "When it didn't look like I was going to pull it all together, I thought about it. I have another solution. It's not optimal, but it works. I don't want to do this over the phone though. I might not get there until 7, but I'll be there, okay?"

"Okay, Roni," I said. "I love you."

"I love you too, Shane," she said. "More than I ever thought was possible. Shane. I'm sorry, but I have to go. Hang in there, just a few more hours, okay?"

"Okay, Roni." She hung up, and I just listened to the dead phone for a minute.

I tried to study. Molly got back, smiling. She came over and gave me a hug. "I got an email from Veronica. She says she'll be down this evening. She told me to take you out to get some exercise."

She had to drag me, but she made me go bike riding with her. It nearly killed her, but she kept me out for a good ninety-minute ride.

We got back to the dorm. "You look like shit. Take a shower. I'll do your makeup. Then you can put on one of your slinkiest dresses and be ready when she gets here."

By the time Veronica arrived, Molly had me primped and looking as good as she could. She gave me shit about my hair, but then said, "It's not as noticeable anymore." Molly met Veronica in the doorway and they hugged each other. I didn't hear what they whispered in each others ears, but Molly gave us the room.

Veronica immediately crossed to where I was standing, waiting for her. She pulled me into a huge hug, then gave me an amazing kiss. She didn't complain that I didn't return as much as she gave me. "Come on," she said. "I haven't eaten since breakfast. I have a solution. You're going to balk first, but you're going to agree to it by the end of the evening."

She took my arm in hers and started us out of the dorm, but Molly interrupted us. She hugged both of us, then let us go.

"I've missed you so much," I told her in the car.

"I've missed you, too," she said. "I was so scared, but I knew I could fix this."

She drove us to a small restaurant in town. She'd called ahead, and they had a table in the corner for us. She brought her briefcase in with her. She held my hand and didn't let go after we sat down. The waiter came and she ordered for both of us. Once he left, she moved everything on the table to the side, then she pulled a folder from her briefcase.

"Shane," she said. "Please don't decide anything until I'm done. Okay? Just let me go through it all." I nodded, and she pulled the first piece of paper from the folder, looked at it briefly, then set it on the table facing me.

"I called Knightly. This is a schedule of what they expect the financial requirements are for a current freshman to finish the next three years at school. Tuition, books, room, board, and an estimated set of living expenses during the school year. It's itemized, totaled up by year, and with the grand total at the bottom."

I looked at the number on the bottom. It was a very large number.

"I could never come up with that much money," I told her quietly.

"I know."

She pulled out a small packet of papers, then turned it around to face me. "This is a student loan agreement for the entire amount, minus living expenses. You'll have to work summers and save your money for those."

I barely glanced at it. "I don't qualify for financial assistance. Dad earns too much money. The most I can get is a 10-hour-a-week job on campus to cover pizza money. And I have to be financially independent from him for at least two full calendar years before they stop taking his situation into account when determining my financial need."

"I know all that," she said. "This loan isn't through the school or the government. It's from me."

I stared at her.

"Page one discusses the loan amount, interest and the repayment obligation." She flipped the page. "Page two covers a repayment plan." She flipped the page. "The rest are terms and obligations my banker made me add."

I tried to interrupt, but she held up a hand. "Let me finish." She pulled another small packet from the folder. "This is the paperwork for an escrow account where the money will sit until it's needed. The details discuss how the money will be paid to Knightly and what happens if you drop out anyway."

Then she flipped back to the loan agreement. She pointed to a number. "This is the amount of the loan. You'll see it covers all three remaining years, minus living expenses." She pointed to the next number, a zero. "This is the interest rate between now and six months after you graduate or six months after you drop out, whichever comes first." The next number was a two point five. "This is the interest rate after that."

"That number is low."

"Shut up." She flipped the page. "These are the repayment terms. In short, you would be obligated to repay the loan based on ten percent of your annual income. If you get a crappy job, that might only be $2,000 a year."

I did the math. "That won't even cover the interest."

"Hold that thought, I have it covered. This page is complicated, but basically it shows you the total amount the loan will cost based on various job situations after college."

She piled all the papers up.

Our food came, but she pushed the plates to the side. "Almost done." She pulled one more sheet of paper from the folder. "I couldn't convince the banker, who is a personal friend, by the way, to include this in the papers she drew up for me." She turned it around and slid it in front of me. "This is a promise to forgive portions of the loan if we're still together. If we're still together the day you graduate, then I will forgive all interest and payments for the coming year. If we're together a year after that, I'll forgive the following year. Shane, this is a promise, but it's not a binding obligation. The banker wouldn't let me do it that way, and I trust her."

Veronica pulled all the papers together and slid them into the manila folder. She set the folder to the side and pulled our plates in front of us. "We should eat while it's still warm."

She took a drink from her water, then began eating her salad while she let me think about it. I took a few bites of food, but I was still in shock from all of it. Then she looked at me.

"I know it looks like it," she said. "But I'm not trying to buy you. What I'm trying to do is make it possible for us to have a life together. This isn't what I would have preferred happening, but it's the best choice I can find given the current situation."

I ate a little more food while I thought about it.

"You had this kind of money sitting around?" I asked her.

"No, actually, I didn't. I had most if it, but not enough." She paused. "Most of my money is tied up in the business. I thought about raping the business funds to cover my shortfall to do this but I realized I'd probably resent you if I did it." She set her fork down. "Shane, I thought about firing a couple of employees so I could afford this, but that would have been wrong, so I didn't."

"I'm glad. I wouldn't have wanted that."

"I thought about asking you to drop out, but then you would have resented me. You resenting me was better than me losing you, but it was a pretty high price." She was right.

"So I took out a loan myself."

"What? Veronica!"

"It's not a big loan. Listen. I was getting ready to hire another designer at work. We have the business for it, and the only reason we haven't needed someone is because I work the sort of hours I work. But I was going to hire someone so that I could work less hours and spend more of them with you."

"You were?"

"I had started interviewing. Now I'm going to have to keep working those hours, probably the entire time you're still in college. But I'll have my loan paid off by the end of the year if business keeps up the way it has."

"You shouldn't have to work that hard for me."

"First, poppycock. Second, the only reason I'd cut back at all would be to have more time with you. If I lose you, there's no reason to cut back."

"So you took out a bank loan?"

"No. I took out a Wendy and Victoria loan."

I started to sniffle.

"Don't," she said. "They don't know what it's for. They trust me. But they also used a little blackmail."

"Why does that not surprise me? What did you have to promise?"

"To support their position the next time they ask you to model for them."

I laughed and Veronica smiled. It was the first laugh in a week.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll protect you."

We ate for a while. I wanted to make sure I'd asked the questions that I needed to ask. Then I realized I hadn't asked the two obvious ones.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked.

"With all my heart, Shane."

"Can you really afford it? Don't you dare lie to me!"

"Yes. Without really making a dent on my lifestyle. I can continue to buy you corsets. I can even take you to Key West. But probably not anywhere more exotic than that for a year or two."

We finished eating in silence. The waiter cleared our plates and asked if we'd like desert.

"No, thank you," I said.

Veronica overrode me. "Yes. Chocolate. Whatever you have that you think we might like. Two forks, one plate."

The desert was lovely. When it was done, I asked her, "If I say Yes, what next?"

"We have an appointment tomorrow at 11 with the banker. We can postpone if you're not ready to commit. We'll sign all the papers, she'll transfer the money into the escrow account, and then we're done."

I tried to think of any further questions.

"Shane, if you break up with me five minutes before we sign the papers, I of course won't go through with this. If you break up five minutes after, I won't be able to stop you. You'll owe me the money listed in the paperwork but won't have to pay a dime until after you graduate. You'll still be free to live your life however you want, and I'm not trying to take those choices away from you. I'm not trying to imprison you."

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course. But it would be polite to tell the banker if we won't make the appointment."

"I'll have a firm answer by morning."

Veronica paid the bill. We drank our coffee, then headed out. I grabbed Veronica's hand and wouldn't let go. We walked to her car, and I leaned against it, pulling her against me and making her kiss me. She didn't seem to mind.

"Veronica, will you take me home and let me make love to you?"

"No."

"What?"

"I'm going to take you home, tie you to the bed, gag you, and then do especially delicious things to you until you scream my name." She smiled. "Do you have a problem with that?"

* * *

Tuesday dawned cool but especially beautiful. I woke up first and winced. Veronica had been especially creative when we got home. She kept worrying she was going too far, but I told her she should stop worrying about it. When she asked the third time, I told her to think of the worst thing she wanted to do and to just do it.

I hoped she'd do it again.

I rolled over and watched her sleep. She must have just been dozing, because she opened her eyes and smiled at me.

"I love you," I told her.

"I love you, too," she said.

We cuddled for a few minutes, still waking up.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"Yes," she said.

"I should wear a suit for the banker?"

* * *

We arrived early for our appointment. Veronica's bank was just around the corner, so we were able to walk. We held hands. That got us a few looks in the bank, and Veronica looked down to see if I was bothered by that, but I just clasped her hand harder.

The banker's name was Suzanne. She'd been a friend of Veronica's for a long time, long before Veronica had begun to use her professional services. We were ushered into Suzanne's office. She closed her door and sat down across her desk from us.

"Veronica is doing a very foolish thing," she told me. "I tried to talk her out of it."

"I'll pay her back," I said. "I always keep my promises. All of them."

"She told me a lot about you before I agreed to write up these papers," Suzanne said. "I get a lot of tears in this office, but it was the first time I saw any from her."

I looked at Veronica. She shrugged. "I was worried."

"My point," added Suzanne, "is that based on everything Veronica told me about you, I do indeed believe you'll pay her back."

Then Suzanne went through all the papers in much greater detail than Veronica had. She finished it all then asked us both, "Are you both sure you want to do this."

"Yes."

And so we both began signing papers. Suzanne collected all the papers, did some things on her computer, then slid a large envelope with a significant stack of papers across the desk to me.

"Congratulations," she told me. "You're all set. You will need to contact the bank to pay your school expenses. We will pay them directly except for your books. For those you must submit receipts, and we will send you a check afterwards. If there is money remaining in the escrow account after you graduate, it will be returned to Veronica's accounts with receipts to both of you, which I presume will be used to credit your loan. After that, repayment is between the two of you. The bank is not involved."

Veronica took me to lunch, then we walked back to the apartment. She stopped at the office to make sure everything was okay, but when they saw the two of us together, they chased us out.

We went back to the apartment. I dropped my clothes on the floor immediately then began peeling Veronica's off of her. She giggled as I stripped her clean, then dragged her to the bedroom and began touching her.

* * *

We cuddled, then I said, "I have a phone call to make. I would like you to listen in."

"Okay," she said, puzzled.

I found my phone and dialed home. "Mom. It's Shane." I let her talk for a moment. "Mom, look. I need to say something. Are you sitting down? No no, everything is fine, it's perfect, but you need to sit down." I mouthed an "I love you" to Veronica.

"Mom, I've thought about the generous offer you and Dad made to pay for my remaining three years at Knightly. I am calling to decline your offer. Thank you, but I have made other arrangements to complete my education. Don't worry, I'm not dropping out, nor am I selling myself on street corners to cover tuition. I believe this change in my economic situation resolves Dad's concerns about when I'm able to make my own adult decisions about how to live my life." I didn't even pause.

"Furthermore, regarding the inappropriate looks you and Dad thought Veronica was giving me. You are both mistaken. I would be very disappointed if my lesbian lover didn't look at me the way Veronica does. Those looks she gave me were exceedingly appropriate. In fact, any looks she gave me in front of you would have been exceedingly tame compared to the looks I like her giving me. I know you will think this is just a phase, but it's not. I've known about how I've felt for a while. I've been afraid to tell you, but I'm not afraid anymore."

Veronica's mouth was hanging open as she listened to me.

"Mom, one more thing. You know I still love you, and I still love Dad. That won't change. But right now, I am very, very angry at you, and I don't intend to forgive you very quickly. I will eventually, but it is going to take me a while. When I think I may be ready for a civil conversation with you, I will call you. For now, leave me be. When I call, if you aren't ready to talk to me, I'll understand. I know I'm risking that you'll never want to talk to me again, but I hope you can still love me even if I'm a lesbian."

And then I hung up.

I turned to Veronica. "And that," I said triumphantly, "Completes the Coming Out of one Shane Elizabeth Dowling."

And then I fell into her arms.

* * *

"Roni," I said some time later. "You just paid a very large amount of money for my education. I think I would be remiss if I didn't go make sure you got your money's worth."

"You don't think this is an education?" she asked playfully. Then she sighed. "Summer is coming, Shane, summer is coming."

* * *

Mom and Dad didn't try calling me, but on Thursday I called Matt's cell phone.

"Hang on," he said very quietly when he answered. I heard him tromp up the stairs then into his bedroom and close the door.

"What the hell, Shane?" he said in a soft voice. "I figured you'd come out eventually, but what a way to do it."

"What do you mean, you figured I'd come out eventually?"

"I'm not stupid," he said. "I might not be as smart as you, but I'm not stupid. I figured it out last year."

"How?"

"You took me to the mall. We were in the food court, and I caught you looking at someone. You were sighing. I kept looking for a hot guy but all I saw was a group of hot girls. It took me two days to put two and two together."

"You didn't say anything."

"Mom and Dad are shell shocked," he told me.

"I figured. Are you okay?"

He laughed. "I'm fine. They aren't mad at me, after all." He paused. "So, Veronica. She's kinda old, isn't she?"

"It might seem like that, I guess. It's complicated. Before meeting her, I would never have told you she was what I wanted, but I love her to pieces, and she loves me."

"Does she treat you well?" he asked.

"That's an awfully mature question," I told him.

"Yeah, well. It was one of the questions at the dinner table last night."

"They grilled you?"

"Hell no, I was a fly on the wall. They were going back and forth, and that came up. I decided it was the only good question of the entire conversation."

"Matt, she treats me insanely well."

We chatted for a few more minutes, then I said, "Matt?"

"Yeah?"

I thought for a second, then changed my mind. "Nevermind, I was going to ask you a favor, but it's not fair."

"What?"

"I was going to ask you, if they start planning some sort of intervention, would you tell me. But I can't put you in the middle. That's not fair."

"They might plan stuff when I'm not around, but if I catch a whiff of anything you should know, I'll tell you," he said.

"That's not fair to you," I replied.

"Listen, Shane. You can be a bitch sometimes, but as older sisters go, you've been all right."

I laughed. "I love you too, Matt."

"Who said anything about love?" he asked me, then hung up laughing.

* * *

The school year soon came to a close. I was going to miss Molly for the summer, but we were all set for our dorm room together next year. Goodbyes with Janice and Kelly were tear-filled, but we vowed to stay in touch. Janice had gotten a job in Boston, and she and Kelly would be moving there together right after school let out.

By the end of the school year, I also found myself having several conversations with the various deans of the college. At first I tried to just give them a change of address and to make sure they knew that they would be dealing directly with me regarding future financial issues. I also explained they should stop all communication with my parents about my grades or anything else. I changed my next of kin to Matt and my emergency contact to Veronica.

The school didn't like any of that every much.

We ended in a compromise. Because Dad had paid my tuition and expenses through the first year, they would still receive duplicate copies of everything I received, including grade reports. But as soon as the business for the freshman year was over, everything went to me only. I decided that was fair.

Then I found myself in front of a school counselor. "I understand there have been some changes in your life. We're here to talk about them."

"Is this meeting a requirement for continued attendance at Knightly?" I asked pointedly.

"We have an obligation to ensure the well being of our students, and it sounds like you've been through some difficulties. Severing ties with your parents is a harsh move."

"I'm fine. I'm about to get straight A's for the 3rd quarter in a row. My school work is impeccable. I have an escrow account with enough funds to cover my remaining years at Knightly, so my continued ability to pay my expenses here is not at risk. I am personally happy and well-adjusted. My dispute with my parents is a private matter, and when I am ready to, I will discuss it further with them. If I feel I need any advice before talking to my parents, I know I have multiple sources, including you, who I could talk to. But unless you can explain why it's an issue for the school's concern, I'd rather enjoy this wonderful spring day. After that, I have studies to attend to."

I don't think she was accustomed to a student with as much back bone as I had. She made a few more poor attempts to get me to talk to her, but I just kept repeating, "My mental health is fine, my financial status is safe, and my academic status is exemplary. Can I go?"

When I told Veronica about it that night over the phone, she was a little angry, but she was pleased I hadn't let anyone push me around. "I'm the only one who gets to do that," she assured me.

The school year came to an end. Veronica drove down and picked both me and Molly up. She took us both to dinner in town before we dropped Molly off at the airport. There were tears all around, and Molly gave Veronica just as big a hug as she'd given me. We arranged for Molly to come back to town a week early to stay with us before fall term started up.

Then we drove home.

It felt so wonderful to call it "home".

Chapter 12: Getting Along

The first thing I did that night (after jumping Veronica) was to go into her closet and carve out space for myself. Then I started unpacking my clothes and hanging them up in the closet.

"You can use the other closet," she told me. I don't think she wanted to share her space.

"I know," I said. Then I fetched all my clothes from that room and set them up in her room.

"This is no longer your room," I told her. "It's our room." I hung up the rest of my clothes, which meant sorting through some of Veronica's clothes that I knew she didn't wear very often and tossing them on the bed.

"Use the other closet," she said. "There's not enough room in that one for both of us."

"No."

She started to get upset. I finished hanging my clothes up, although my conservative dresses joined her seldom-worn clothes on the bed. I turned to her. "I want my clothes to smell like your clothes."

I then went over to the pile of clothes on the bed. I held up one of my dresses. "I should burn these."

She took the dress away from me, then gathered all the clothes from the bed and left the apartment. I wasn't sure what she was doing, but if they were going into the incinerator, I was just fine with that. She came back and said, "I keep a closet of seasonal clothes in the company offices," she explained. "There's not enough room here, but we had extra room in the office, so I took a pragmatic approach."

She hugged me.

"I want to redecorate. Do you think I can find a designer who would help me in exchange for special services?"

She laughed. "What did you have in mind?"

So I began stalking her.

She giggled. "No, I mean for decorating!"

"I thought maybe there should be a retainer," I said, lunging for her. She skipped away. I sat down on the bed and said, "spoil sport." She was grinning at me.

"This is your home now, too, Shane," she told me. "It should reflect both our tastes."

"Yeah, it can be a mix of High End Designer and College Girl Swamp." She laughed. "Okay, maybe not." My expression grew serious. "I don't have a clue what I want," I told her. "I just want to look around and know it's our space, not just your space. Is that asking too much?"

"No, Shane, it's a lovely thought, and I'll be happier that way, too."

I smiled. "I can't do the design, but I thought, maybe some color changes?" I played with my hair. "Maybe something subtle, like little touches based on the color of my hair, and if it works, you could bring in the color of the green brocade corset I wore the night we met."

She started to smile. I went on.

"This color would be way too much if we used a lot of it, but do you think we can get a matching paint and just use it sparingly?"

"You are brilliant," she told me, beaming. "That is the best design idea I've ever gotten from an untrained client. Truly brilliant."

I smiled, pleased she liked my idea. "But ... I want some shape, too, you know. I don't know what that means though. Maybe a little artwork? Maybe just a different shape to the drapes. I don't know. I'm not sure what I mean."

"You might not, but I do," she told me. "Will you trust me?"

"Always."

* * *

Veronica took a few days off. She got me naked and wouldn't let me put on a stitch of clothing unless we were going out. I didn't mind in the slightest.

I got called a "cheeky girl" a lot and one very thorough icing that I completely deserved.

She took me clothes shopping and bought me several more business suits, slightly upscale from the ones I already had. These we had tailored. They would be ready in a week, so my first week at work would be in the two suits I already owned.

And we held a dinner party with Victoria, Wendy, Jeremy and Lawrence. They wore me down, and I said, "Yes, I'll model" by the end of the evening. Wendy promised she'd protect my anonymity, that she understood modeling clothes for a sex shop might not be good for a future career in business. I wasn't sure I cared anymore, but I wasn't ready to decide that I wouldn't care in the future, so I appreciated them looking out for me.

And then our mini vacation was over and we were back to work at six AM on Monday.

* * *

By the end of June, I was completely self sufficient as Veronica's assistant. The guys at the office also started coming to me when they needed something instead of straight to Veronica, which amused Veronica to no end.

She refused to let me spend a dime of what I was earning. It all went in the bank to cover expenses at school in the fall. She explained it to me like this.

"You are now doing all the little work I used to have to do myself. It takes me just as long, and sometimes longer, to do the things you're doing. I can't charge you out to the clients, because this is just the overhead of running a business, which means I also can't charge out my time when I am forced to do them. But because you're doing these things, then I can spend more time doing things I can charge for. And you've also taken similar duties off the guys, so they're billing more hours, too." She paused.

"Shane, I know you remember almost nothing from your other life, but you have some business skills that are better than mine. You might not remember ever doing these jobs, but you instinctively remember how to do them."

* * *

One afternoon in the middle of June, I couldn't find either Bob or Brian. Veronica had me running around all morning, then I'd photographed houses for both Bob and Brian in the afternoon. I wanted to share the photographs with them. I checked their schedules, and they were marked as busy, but it didn't say what for.

I asked Veronica.

"It's hush-hush," she said. "An off-the-books client, someone who has been important to us for a while."

"But-"

"What part of hush-hush didn't you hear, Shane?"

They both arrived back at the office very late in the afternoon. I heard them come in and ambushed them. "You can show us the photos in a sec, Shane," Bob said. "We need to update Veronica first."

They went into her office and closed the door. I was a little miffed. Since I'd started working for her, this was the first time she held a meeting without me unless I was otherwise running errands for her.

They came out just a few minutes later and refused to answer any questions about it. "Ask Veronica," they said. "We're not allowed to talk about this client, and you don't want to get us into trouble."

Veronica collected me at 5:30 and declared the work day over. When I tried to wrap up some paperwork, she walked over, wrapped my arm in hers, and dragged me out of the office and back to our apartment.

She unlocked the door but didn't open it. Instead she stepped behind me and put her hands over my eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"No struggling," she said. "Shane, no games, no back talk. There's something I want to show you. Behave."

"Okay."

"Reach out and open the door, then step in. I'll guide you if I need to."

So that's what we did. I made small steps with Veronica right behind me, her hands covering my eyes. We stepped into the apartment, the door closed behind us, and we took several more steps. With her hands still over my eyes, she stepped very closely behind me and kissed the back of my neck. Then she took her hands from my eyes.

While we'd been at work, someone had been in our apartment painting it.

The base color was the same. The furniture was where we'd left it. But an accent color had been added. Actually three accent colors. There was a red exactly the shade of my hair. There was a green, and there was a cream color that I decided matched Veronica's blond hair.

I turned to stare at her.

"Do you like it?"

I nodded.

"It's you and me," I said, quietly.

I walked slowly around the apartment, finding all the places the colors were added. It was always subtle, just a little bit here, a little there, and never quite the same, but always similar.

"You said you wanted shape. I wanted to tell a story, but one no one would understand."

She set her briefcase down and pulled out a sketch pad. She pulled me to the dining room table and started showing me the sketches.

"So I started with a sketch of you," she said, showing it to me. She had used colored pencils and had drawn me standing next to the window at Victoria and Wendy's. I was dressed in the corset, skirt, and heels with my hair cascading over my shoulder. She'd drawn me from behind with my face turned back to look at her.

"And then I did one of myself," she said, showing me the next sketch. She looked just like I remembered her when I first danced with her.

I reached out and caressed it.

"Then I did one of us together."

The next sketch she showed me was of the two of us dancing. It was drawn from behind me again. She'd taken liberties with it. My hair wasn't just over my own shoulder, but also over hers. She'd had to lengthen hers just a little, but it was a mirror of mine and was just caressing my shoulder.

She showed me another dozen sketches she had done, some just as detailed, most of them just a few strokes. I could see she was catching the essence of the other drawings.

"Then I gave all this to Bob and Brian and asked them what they could do with it." She waved her arm at the apartment. "This is it."

I got up and wandered the apartment. It was all subtle, but beautiful. I came back to her. She was standing there watching me. I wrapped my arms around her, squeezed her very tightly and whispered into her ear. "I'm yours, but now this apartment and everything in it is mine now, too. Including you."

"Yes Shane," she whispered back. "I am all yours."

I spent hours showing her just how much she was mine.

At the morning staff meeting, I asked the boys to stand up. Then I gave them each a huge kiss. "Thank you."

Veronica didn't even punish me for kissing someone else.

* * *

Near the end of June, I walked into Veronica's office and closed the door. "Boss, I'd like a day off next week."

"We're awfully busy, Shane. I need you."

"I know. I'd like the third off."

She put down the drawings she'd been looking at and gave me her full attention. "Why?"

I looked at the floor. "It's been a year."

"Oh." Her eyes grew big. "Oh. Oh. Of course." She thought about it for a moment. "Do you want me to be with you? It's okay either way."

"I don't know," I said. "I could use some advice. Someone died so that Shane could live. And Shane died, too. It's all very confusing. It just seems that this Shane should do something about it. Maybe something small, but I shouldn't just ignore it. I was thinking flowers, maybe, but I wouldn't know what to do with them."

"There's an Unsung Heroes Memorial at the Veterans Cemetery," she told me. "People leave flowers there all the time. Would that do?"

I crossed around to her side of the desk and hugged her. "It's perfect. Will you come with me for that part? Maybe take a couple of hours off for it is all?"

"I'd be honored, Shane."

"I think... Flowers for the Shane that was, for her soul, and flowers for the body that was, the memories that died, even if the soul is here in this Shane." I thought about it. "Does that seem tacky?"

"Not to me," she said.

* * *

On the morning of the third, Veronica went to work. I stayed at the apartment, thinking about the past year. Then I did something I hadn't been doing. I got out my laptop and started writing a story.

Once the shops were open, I walked to a florist and bought the flowers I wanted.  I got three arrangements. The third was for a dog whose name I no longer remembered but who I hoped was doing well with a brother I didn't remember, either. I carried everything back to the apartment, wrote for a while, then went in search of Veronica. She was in her office, just getting ready to go. She had two arrangements of flowers herself.

"These are from me," she said. "I didn't know either of these people, but without their sacrifice, you wouldn't be in my life, and I owe them."

* * *

We both cried at the memorial. But we dried our tears, and I decided we'd done the right thing. I hoped Shane was doing okay.

I spent the afternoon working on the story.

* * *

For the next week, I kept sneaking time to work on the story. Veronica was used to me doing homework at the apartment, so I didn't think she would find it strange. And then one evening I finished the first draft of the story, pushed the laptop away, and told Veronica I was going for a run.

That Saturday, Veronica and I elected to stay in. "I have plans for your body," she told me.

We'd been dating for months, but the sex just kept getting hotter and hotter. Veronica kept finding new ways to make me squirm, and she could make me wet with a look. There'd been one session I'd told her was "a seven and a half". But never did I have to ask her to tone things done.

That Saturday, Veronica took my clothes away in the morning. Every couple of hours, she added a new toy to the mix. At ten, I was naked. By noon, I was wearing cuffs on both ankles, although they weren't attached to anything. By two, she'd added a collar and leash, but just let the leash dangle most of the time. At four, she cuffed my legs together so I could barely hobble around. Right before dinner, she clipped my wrist cuffs together in front of me then made me bend over the couch.

By now, the feeling against my anus had become familiar, but it had always been a bedroom toy in the past. She slowly worked it in, then patted my bottom and told me I could stand up.

"Mine," she said.

"Always," I told her.

She grabbed the leash and pulled me to the dining room table and made me sit down. This pushed the plug slightly deeper inside me, and I squirmed.

She fetched the food I'd been making in the kitchen, setting it on the table. She sat down then said, "You may not speak again tonight unless it's in direct response to a question I asked," she said. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Roni."

"I may later relax the restriction slightly, allowing you to scream my name. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Roni."

"Every single word you speak is five minutes of ice," she told me. She hadn't asked a question, so I didn't respond. I think she was disappointed I hadn't automatically said, "Yes, Roni."

She smiled sweetly and asked me to pass the salad.

I waited until we each had our plates ready, then I said, "Roni?"

"That's 5 minutes," she told me with a leer.

"I love you," I added.

"Cheeky girl! Your twenty minutes will commence after you've washed all the dishes. Do you intend to go for more?"

"No, Roni."

We finished the meal and I managed not to add to my punishment, although she'd been trying to trip me up. I did the dishes while she watched me, then she ordered me to bring a bowl of ice to the bedroom.

I thought it was especially cruel to make me bring the ice.

She met me in the bedroom. She'd put towels on the bedding to soak up some of the water that was about to melt all over. I was wondering if I'd been just a little too cheeky.

"Lie down, on your stomach, crosswise across the bed," she ordered after taking the ice from me.

I did what she ordered. She kept my wrists tethered together, then pull them past my head so that they hung off the edge of the bed. She secured them there. Then she made me kneel with my butt waving in the air and my legs spread and secured my legs that way. I could squirm like crazy, but I was completely open and vulnerable to her. She reached underneath me and attached a restraint to the collar, then pulled that down between my legs and secured it to the frame as well.

With my hands tied the way they were, my mobility to move closer towards my feet didn't exist. My feet couldn't move at all, and by extension my knees.  The restraint around my neck kept me from lengthening my body and lying back down on my stomach with my head hanging over the bed. In other words, I was going to continue to kneel there with my ass waving in the air until Veronica released me.

"Any sounds that come from your throat I will consider words, and they will add to the duration of your punishment."

"Shit," I said.

"Twenty five," she said immediately. "And five extra for the profanity."

I shoved my face into the covers in an attempt to prevent any more words from leaking out, and she began teasing my toes with a cube of ice.

She was merciless. It took me a few minutes, but I realized she was making a point. She had me squirming in an attempt to escape the ice within minutes, but I kept my mouth shut for well over fifteen minutes when suddenly she slipped three cubes inside of me all at once. I arched my back, pulling my face out of the covers, and hissed.

"Thirty five," she said calmly. "I wonder if I'm going to get to do this for an entire hour."

I buried my face back in the covers for a while. She got very serious with the ice, and it was torture, but I was able to keep quiet.

Then she removed the plug, slipped two ice cubes in there, and reinserted the plug.

"Roni! Mercy! Please!"

"Fifty."

But she actually did show mercy. She didn't insert any more ice into me, and eventually she started drying me off and warming me with her hands.

"I didn't think you were going to make it," she told me quietly, laying on the bed with her face inches from mine as I turned sideways to look at her. "I thought you'd use your safe word."

"What safe word?" I asked

"Fifteen," she said.

I could feel a look of horror cross my face, and then I completely lost it.

"Nooooo!" I screamed. "Please Roni! Please no." I thrashed to try to get free and kept begging for no more.

"Okay, Shane," she said quietly. "I think you've had as much of this as you can take."

"Thank you, Roni! Thank you thank you."

She finished drying me off, then looked at me.

"Who owns you?" she asked me.

"You do."

"Who do you belong to?"

"I belong to you."

"Who controls you?"

"You do."

She got off the bed. "You like feeling helpless? The more helpless and vulnerable, the more you're mine."

"Yes."

"Gagging you makes you feel more helpless," she said, shoving her undies into my mouth. She tied them in place.

Soon after, I was screaming her name again.

* * *

I was worn out after the attention. Veronica still hadn't untied me. This wasn't a comfortable position, and she had never brefore left me in an uncomfortable position for this long.

"Do you know why I was cruel tonight?" she asked me.

"You weren't cruel," I said.

"Yes, I was. I knew you'd do something to earn a punishment, you can't pass up an opportunity to taunt me, and I knew you wouldn't stay quiet if I was cruel enough with the ice."

"You set me up?"

"Yep. As an apology."

"For what?"

She stayed quiet for a moment. "For reading the story you wrote."

"What?"

"You left your laptop out. I was curious. I read it. It's about us, isn't it?"

I turned to look at her with an accusatory face. "Happy early birthday," I said without being at all happy about it. "The story isn't ready yet, and I wanted to give it to you for your birthday."

She didn't say anything for several minutes, then in a small voice, "I'm sorry I ruined your surprise. But Shane, it's an amazing story."

"It's not polished yet."

"It's perfect. If this is an example of your stories, I'm so going to enjoy reading them."

I struggled against my bonds for a moment. "Veronica, if we're having a serious conversation, why am I still in an uncomfortable and extremely vulnerable position? If you're the one apologizing, why am I the one getting punished? How does setting me up qualify as an apology?"

"You're still tied up because you're angry with me, and I can't bring myself to untie you when you're mad at me. I know as long as you're like this, you have to listen to my apology."

"That's a stupid answer. Untie me."

"No."

I struggled some more, but everything was too tight, and when it came to tying me up, she knew what she was doing. "This isn't fair!"

"Let me know when you're ready to continue talking."

I knew struggling wasn't going to get me anywhere, but I kept trying. Finally I turned and glared at her. That's when she started slipping some pillows underneath me to at least make me less uncomfortable. It helped, and I collapsed into them, my ass still waving in the air.

"Tell me about your stories."

"What about them? They're stories."

"I will untie you once you've answered all my questions to my satisfaction and have promised not to run away because you're mad at me."

"Roni, I'm not mad at you. You read a story. I wrote it for you anyway. I wish you hadn't read it yet, because I wanted to watch you read it. You won't let you buy you anything, so I wrote you a story. But what's done is done. I'm going to ask you to never do it again, and you're going to agree you were wrong, and you'll never read another story of mine before I give it to you. So I'm not mad and I'm not going to get away."

I struggled for a minute. "But I still think you should get punished."

"You're right," she said. "But I can't. I would freak out. I can't."

"Why not?" I asked her. "Don't you trust me?"

"Shane, do you want to stay like this while we talk about that, or do you want to finish answering my questions then grill me about that after."

I shut up.

"How often do you write?"

I thought about it. "I dunno. Not as often as I'd like. I'd write every day for hours a day if I could, but who has time for that? You know what our schedule is like."

"Why don't you just write less, but still write?"

"If you feed the muse, she becomes happy and gives you good stories. If you neglect her, she visits someone else instead. She's fickle, demanding, and doesn't really like playing second fiddle."

"So sort of all or nothing?"

"Yeah, for me anyway."

"Would you want to be a full time writer?"

I looked away. I wasn't comfortable with that question.

"I only have a few more questions, but you will answer them, my pet." She got her point across. Unless I was willing to leave, that was the nature of our relationship, and I really didn't want it any other way, even when it was sometimes inconvenient.

"I can't make a living at it," I told her. "I'm not good enough. I might get by, but I'd never be honestly successful. Most writers have full time jobs to pay the bills or someone supporting them."

"You have me."

"Untie me now."

"You have me."

"That's not a question."

She paused, caressed me for a second, I tried to pull away, but I couldn't, and really I didn't want to.

"Okay I'm going to rephrase. Skipping the money issue. Let's say you won the lottery tomorrow."

"Gotta play to win..."

"We're playing what if. What if you won the lottery? What would you do?"

"I'd write."

She stared at me for a long moment. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, Roni. But I hurt, please untie me."

"Are you going to run away, or will you please cuddle with me?"

"I'm going to curl up in a ball and ignore you, and you're going to caress me for a while, and pretty soon I'll move my head in your lap and tell you I love you. After that, you're going to tell me why you're weaseling out of the punishment session you deserve."

She started caressing me before removing the plug. It had been in too long and was uncomfortable to remove. She then slowly removed the other restraints.

"Thank you," I said once I was free. I then curled up into a ball on my side and ignored her for a while.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked me after a while.

I ignored her, although her caresses felt nice.

"Shane, I need to know. Did I go too far?"

"The ice was a six," I said. "If you'd put any inside me once more, it would have jumped to eight. That's why I freaked."

"After? Leaving you tied up?"

"The orgasm was a nine on the positive scale," I said.

I think she smirked, but I wasn't looking at her. Still, her voice changes when she's smirking, so I was pretty sure. "Just a nine?"

"Hello. Orgasms while uncomfortable are never going to make it to ten."

She kept caressing. "How about when I wouldn't untie you."

"I can't give that a number. That wasn't a game."

"It's all a game, Shane, or none of it is. I'm not sure which. It's part of who we are though, isn't it?"

That's when I rolled around and put my head in her lap. I hadn't completely forgiven her yet, but I knew I loved her.

"Don't do it too often," I told her. "I need to know I can trust you, and that pushed it. The only reason it wasn't over the edge is because you stopped the ice when I started to freak."

And then I wrapped my arms around her and cuddled in deeper.

"You deserve being punished for snooping."

"I know I do, Shane. I'm sorry, I can't let you. But I promise I'll never read one of your stories again without permission."

"I'm stronger than you. I could force you."

"Yes, you are. You could try. But I think you'd find it's harder to bind an unwilling victim than you think. But if you started to succeed, I would completely freak. I might not freak at a little wrestling around, but if I thought you could really tie me up, I would totally freak. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not, but you need to explain."

She stopped petting for a while, but I wriggled demandingly.

"Cheeky girl."

"You owe me. Keep petting. I still hurt, and the petting helps."

"Did I really hurt you? I'm sorry."

"Emotionally. I got really stiff, but that already wore off. Please keep petting me."

She started petting me again and I settled in.

"I've been tied up," she told me. "Only once."

"Who?"

"Penny."

"Penny?! You aren't serious. You and Penny?"

"It wasn't like that. Several of us had met for coffee. Penny and I were both bragging about recent conquests."

I stiffened, wondering how she may have bragged about me.

"I was younger. Stupid in some ways. It wasn't that many years ago, but that night with Penny completely changed me. I brag about how fabulous you are, but if anyone even hints at wanting details of our escapades, I shut them down."

I settled back down. She kept petting. I was starting to feel better. But Penny?

"Are you jealous?"

"No," I said. "You don't love her. You love me. That's enough for me."

"So Penny and I were bragging. Penny was still glowing from the previous night. You understand she's not just a domme, she also enjoys being cruel. And she'd been able to be especially cruel. She was talking about a four-hour session the night before, and how pleased she was about it. And I said, four hours? That's it?"

"Four hours is a long time, depending upon what's going on."

"I know that now. So Penny scoffed at me and said, You wouldn't last two in my dungeon."

"And you rose to the bait."

"Yeah. We made a wager. If I lasted the full two hours, then I got to redecorate her loft, and she had to leave it that way for six months. If she won, she got to take pictures of what she'd done to me and put them on her web site. None of my face, so no one could identify me by them, but she and everyone else at the table would know."

"So what did you do to her apartment?"

"She got to take her pictures."

"What?"

"She only took one, and it may have been the best photo of me taken in a long time. It was a profile with tears running down my cheek."

"She hurt you? I'll kill her!"

"No you will not," Veronica said. "She barely touched me. I let her tie me up. She's exceedingly good at it. I couldn't move an inch. And then she told me what she was going to do. When I realized I couldn't stop her, that I was completely helpless and she could do anything she wanted to me, I lost it. I completely lost it."

I hugged her.

"I think I surprised her. She immediately started to untie me, but I told her to get her photos first. So she took one, just one, then untied me and held me until I stopped crying. She never showed that photo to anyone. For a few years, when I thought I might be getting a little too arrogant, I'd dig out the copy she gave me and look at it for a while. It usually took care of the arrogance."

She was still stroking my hair. "So. I don't know why I freaked, but I know the thought of being even just a little helpless scares me worse than you can imagine."

I thought about it. "You still need to be punished for reading the story, Roni."

I began touching her and kissing her. "Shane, that's not exactly punishment," she told me shortly. "It seems a lot like encouragement to me."

"You don't get to talk," I told her, pulling my mouth away from her. "Or I'll bite."

I didn't think she'd want me biting her where my mouth was at the time. I didn't want to either, so I really hoped she didn't call my bluff. Kindly, she didn't.

It took a while, but I got her squirming really good. Then I reached to the bowl of ice, grabbed two cubes and quickly slipped them into her.

She started screeching, jumped off the bed, and hopped around until they fell onto the floor. She glared at me, but the glare turned into a grin.

It was late and I was tired, so I crawled under the covers and turned my back to her. "Remember to turn out the lights," I told her.

She puttered around the apartment for a few minutes before coming back to bed. When she tried to cuddle up to me, I told her, "Your punishment isn't over. You don't get to touch me until noon tomorrow."

She moved away slowly and rolled over. We lied like that for a few minutes. Then I rolled back.

"Why am I punishing myself?" I asked quietly, curling up around her.

She was lying there stiffly when I pulled her into my arms. My rejection had hurt her. She relaxed slightly as I curled around her.

"Roni?" I said quietly.

"What, Shane?" she said warily.

"I never knew it was possible to love someone as much as I love you," I told her.

Then she relaxed. "Me either," she said.

Chapter 13: Time to Feed the Muse

I woke in the morning with Veronica lightly caressing me. It felt divine.

"Don't stop," I begged.

"I won't stop. Shane." She caressed me for a while, waiting until I was fully awake before speaking again. "Can I ask you more questions about your writing?"

"Of course," I told her.

"Tell me what it's like when you're writing. What you feel?"

"That's complicated. It depends on the story, and it depends on the muse. Sometimes I have an idea of a story someone else might like, so I try writing it. And it might end up being an okay story, but if I'm writing for someone else, some hypothetical reader, the writing is always a little forced. But if instead I have a story, and I'm basically telling it to myself, and not worrying about whatever anyone else thinks, then that's when it's amazing. The muse is happy, and the stories are the most magical."

Veronica leaned down and kissed me. After the kiss she said, "I want you to write more. I loved that story, and I want more."

I thought back to the last time someone had complimented my writing. "She told me she liked my stories, too."

"Who did?"

"She. You know."

"Oh." said Veronica. "Oh. Please, Shane, will you write more stories?"

"I would, Roni, but it's hard. I have to feed the muse, and she's very demanding. When will I have time?"

* * *

The week moved ahead. We went dancing again over the weekend. Sunday I told Veronica I needed some time to start dictating MPEGs for my fall classes. She said she had errands to run, anyway, so we both got some time alone.

Monday arrived, and it was another work week, or so I thought. The day started like it normally did, but at ten AM Veronica called me into her office. "Close the door," she told me.

I leered at her. "Do we finally get to test out the desk, Boss?"

She didn't smile. Shit, something was wrong. "Sit down, Shane."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, You've been great. You've far exceeded any expectation anyone could possibly have had for you."

"Did someone die?"

"No, of course not. Shane, just sit down."

I sat.

"Shane, I'm cutting your hours to zero."

"What?" I thought about it. "You're firing me? I thought I was doing a good job. I thought you were able to bill more hours because I did all the grunt work you can't bill."

"You were doing a good job, and I can bill more hours with you doing the things you do. This isn't a business decision. As a business woman, I'm kicking myself over and over."

"Then why? Too much together time? I thought we were doing really well that way, too."

"We are, and I hope you won't be too mad at me for this."

"I don't understand." I was trying not to cry.

"Shane, I want you to have time to write."

"Oh hell, Veronica, is that what this is about? We've talked about this. I have financial obligations."

Veronica slid an envelope across the desk to me. "Read it."

I opened the envelope. It was the most glowing job recommendation I could imagine.

"Even if we break up, you have that. You'll always have that, and every word is true."

"I don't want this. I like working for you. For you! Don't you understand? I like taking care of you the way you take care of me."

She looked away and I realized this was hurting her, too.

"Shane, I will make you a promise. I want you to write. You want to write. God wants you to write. Do you think maybe you should perhaps spend some time writing?"

By now I was near tears, but not quite crying. I shrugged petulantly.

"So I will make a promise. Spend the rest of the summer writing. Spend your breaks writing. I'll take you places, too. Well, I'd take you places anyway, but I meant you won't spend all your time writing. Shit, I'm saying this badly."

She collected her breath and tried again. "Write. The rest of this summer. Breaks. Next summer. Take business classes at school, but also take writing classes. Take both, your schedule certainly can allow for both. And take philosophy and sociology, too, because those will help for both writing and business. Then, the summer between junior and senior year, if you want to work here instead of write, I will happily hire you and give you all the hours you want."

I thought about what she was saying.

"You've seen what my job is like, and you'll continue to see what it's like. And I'm not firing you, I'm keeping you on the payroll, and there may be times I'm going to ask you to work when we really need you, because you're really good and there will be times I'd really like your help. You don't need more time on the job here to see what business here is like. You understand it, and that was the main goal for this job, to expose you. You've been exposed. Now, go see if you like writing when you're pursuing it full time for the next two months."

I sat in the chair for several minutes, not saying anything. She let me mull it through.

"You're treating me like a child," I told her. "You're trying to make my decisions for me, just like Mom and Dad did."

She didn't look at me but said in a small voice. "I know."

"Don't I get a vote?"

She'd been turned away, but when she turned back, there was a tear sliding down her cheek. I stared at it.

"I'm mad at you."

"I know," she said. "I don't blame you."

"I'm going to be mad at you for a while. I don't know how long."

"I know."

"I'm not moving out. I know you're worried I might. I'm not."

A second tear joined the first.

"I might move into the spare room for a few days. Or a few weeks. I don't know yet."

"I understand."

"I won't stay mad forever, and I'm not moving out. However, you will keep your hands off of me until I'm ready for you to touch me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Shane."

I quietly collected my things then stepped back into her office.

"That damned well better have been a real tear," I told her. I walked out of the office without another word to anyone. I went to the apartment and slammed the door as loudly as I could, hoping she could hear it.

I stormed around the apartment for a while. Then I opened Veronica's wine cabinet and went searching for the most expensive bottle of red I could find. I was being petulant, and I knew it, but I didn't care. I opened the bottle, poured a single glass, then recorked the bottle and left it sitting on the table where she'd see it when she came home. I took the glass of wine, my laptop and my headset to the spare bedroom. I closed and locked the door, threw all the pillows on the floor, then sat down amongst them, opened my laptop and began writing.

Veronica stopped into the apartment to check on me. I had the music playing loudly, so I didn't hear her at first, but she knocked on the door and called my name. I ignored her and she eventually went away.

I waited until she left. My wine was empty. I'd nursed it for a couple of hours, but you can only sip so slowly. I got up, grabbed my wine glass, and went in search of the wine bottle.

It wasn't on the dining room table anymore. "That bitch!" I said. I went to the cabinet and grabbed another bottle then into the kitchen to open it. The bottle I had opened earlier was sitting prominently on the kitchen counter. There was a note under it that said, "Use your own judgment. I hope you won't get drunk. But if you want more than what's in this bottle, please share the next bottle with me."

"Okay maybe not a bitch," I said. I put the unopened bottle back in the wine cabinet, then poured myself another glass from the first bottle. I grabbed a large glass of water as well and headed back to the spare bedroom.

She came to check on me again. This time she wouldn't go away. "Shane, please. I just need to know you're okay. Then I'll leave you alone if that's what you want."

That pissed me off.

I stormed to the door, unlocked and opened it, and then said, "I fucking keep my promises, and I find it very insulting that you don't trust me." I slammed the door in her face and locked it.

I went back to my writing. She wanted me to write, I would fucking write.

I never say fucking. I sighed.

Later I left the room to return my wine glass to the kitchen. I didn't want a third glass, but I had to use the bathroom. There was a piece of paper waiting on the floor in front of me when I opened the door.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I love you. Veronica."

I stared at it for a while, then carried it with me and read it again while I went to the bathroom. When I went back to the guest room, I closed the door, but I didn't lock it.

Veronica came home about six. My story was almost done. It took another half hour for edits. I read it through once more then sent it to print on one of the office printers next door. There was no printer in the apartment.

I opened the door. Veronica was sitting at the dining room table, still looking a little shell shocked and afraid of what I might do. "Shut up," I told her. "Not one word."

I walked up to her. "I wrote a story. It is printing at the office. I am going to get it. You are going to read it. You will read every last word before you make any response what so ever. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Shane," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Save it," I told her.

I walked out, down the hall, then used my key to gain access to the office. I retrieved my story from the printer, locked up and returned to the apartment. I handed it to Veronica then headed back to the guest bedroom and slammed the door.

I picked up all the pillows and put them back on the bed, straightening up the room. Then I sat on the bed and waited.

Intermission: Shane's Story

I hate her.

I hate her.

I hate the way she always thinks she's so superior, so smart.

I hate her.

I hate her beautiful blond hair.

I hate her.

I hate her.

I hate how she worries about me.

I hate her.

I hate her piercing blue eyes, the way they look at me like they're looking into my soul.

I hate her.

I hate that she's so complicated, that I will spend my entire life learning who she is.

I hate her.

I hate her smile, the way it reminds me what was missing moments ago.

I hate her.

I hate her.

I hate the way she touches me, lighting my body on fire.

I hate her.

I hate the way she makes me feel when she isn't here.

I hate her.

I hate the way I'm so afraid she won't love me.

I hate her.

I hate I can't stop thinking about her.

I hate her.

I hate how much it hurts when she frowns.

I hate her.

I hate that she's not here so that I can tell her that,

I hate her.

I hate the way she makes me want to spend every remaining moment of my life with her.

I hate her.

I hate when she sends me away.

I hate her.

I hate how she takes care of me, but won't let me take care of her.

I hate her.

I hate how scared I get she'll grow tired of me.

I hate her.

I hate how much it hurts that she's not touching me.

I hate her.

I hate how much it hurts that she's not kissing me.

I hate her.

I hate that I am sitting in this room, alone, waiting for her.

I hate her.

I hate that I am sitting in this room, alone, waiting for her, so that I could tell her.

I could never hate her.

I hate that I am alone in this room, waiting for her to come touch me.

I could never hate her.

I hate that I am alone in this room, waiting for her to come kiss me.

I can never stop loving her.

Chapter 14: Making Amends

She hated it, I was sure. She didn't understand it. It was too harsh. I waited and waited, waited an eternity, and the door didn't open.

Well, if she wanted proof I could never be a professional writer, now she had it. But I would be damned if I was going to go running back to her and beg for my job back.

It wasn't that long, what was taking so long? How long can it take to read two crappy pages?

The door opened. I refused to look at it. She stepped into the room slowly, but didn't say anything. I continued to ignore her.

My heart was pounding so hard, I knew she could hear it. She had to hear it. Why wasn't she over here holding me, kissing me, telling me she loved me, too?

She just stood there. I finally looked at her. She was holding my story in her hands. I watched her read it. She got to the end, then cycled the pages, took the tiniest of baby steps towards me, then started reading it again.

She read it twice more before she looked at me, truly looked at me. I fell into her deep blue eyes and my heart was breaking.

Then she dropped the story to the floor and flew to the bed. She pulled me into her arms and began kissing me like I'd never been kissed before. I held onto her and just opened my mouth to accept her.

"I don't hate you," I said when she let me up for air.

"I know," she told me and began kissing me again.

A little while later she looked around the room then asked me, "Would you like it if we turned this room into your writing room?"

I didn't answer right away.

"Shane, you know I need to tell you, I told you so."

"Roni, I knew it while you were telling me. I was just so angry that you were right. I don't know if I'm any good, but you're right about everything else, and I have to try. Now is the right time."

"So, you're going to write, at least for a while. Would you like us to convert this room?"

I looked around. "Is there room for a small couch, and we can paint the walls with a splash of my colors? But I don't want us to lose the guest room, so the bed has to stay."

"Perfect," she told me.

* * *

We invited Matt to dinner. I'd been calling him every week or two, but I hadn't talked to my parents.

"I can't just come over, Shane," he said. "You know I have to ask."

"Are they home? Go ask."

I heard him carry the phone downstairs with him, then heard a muffled conversation.

"Shane, Mom wants to talk to you about it. Can you talk to her?"

"I guess."

He handed the phone over.

"Hello, Shane."

"Hi Mom."

"What would the travel arrangements be? Matt has his drivers license now, but neither his father nor I think driving downtown is a good idea yet."

"I hadn't thought about him driving," I admitted. "And I agree. I'm not driving around here, either. Veronica and I would get him then drive him home later. It wouldn't be horribly late, but maybe eleven, if that's okay."

"It's summer," she said. "That would be fine. Here's Matt."

We finalized arrangements.

That Saturday came quickly. Veronica and I drove out to get Matt. I got there, then felt really weird. I wasn't sure if I should walk right in or if I had to knock. It used to be my house, after all, but now I was a stranger. We ended up knocking. I didn't know where I stood.

Matt opened the door. "You have to come in," he said. "Mom insisted she see you." He looked at Veronica. "You too. I'm sorry."

I looked at her and she said, "It's fine."

So we followed Matt to the kitchen.

"Hey Mom."

Mom walked over to me, put her hands on my shoulders and looked at me. She turned me back and forth. "Are you eating?"

"Yes, Mom. But I'm also working out as much as I can."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes. Deliriously."

She hugged me the let me go. "Your father is in the den. Go say hello."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, Shane, you do," said Veronica.

"Matt, go with her," Mom ordered. "You stay here," she said to Veronica.

I gave her an "I'm sorry" look, but she just gestured with her head. I knew she could defend herself if she needed to.

Dad was in the den watching the last of a college football game. He muted the game then got to his feet and looked at me.

"Hey, Dad," I said. "We'll have him home on time."

"Shane, you know we trust you with your brother. If it's going to be late, just call us so we don't worry. And avoid driving between midnight and 2 am, the drunks are out."

"Yes, Dad."

I kissed him on the cheek. He grunted, but that was that.

Mom and Veronica were waiting by the front door for us. I didn't see any scratches on either of them.

I sat in the back seat so Matt could have more room up front. We small chatted for a while, then Matt said, "Veronica, Shane is wondering what Mom said to you. Are you going to tell her?"

"It was nothing, actually," Veronica said. "She told me that you were still on your father's health insurance, but there was a new insurance card, and she gave it to me to give to you. She said you were covered until age 25, so I didn't have to cover you through your job."

"Oh. Wow."

"She did say you need to contact the insurance company with your new address. She gave me the information you'll need for that."

"Okay."

"And then she ordered me to take good care of you."

Matt spoke up. "Every time I talk to you, they ask about you, Shane. Sometimes they ask how Veronica is, too."

The conversation moved on.

We got to the apartment. Matt loved it on sight. He roamed around and even checked out our bedroom He came back out carrying my corset. "This is too small for Veronica," he said.

"Matt! You shouldn't have gone in our closet!"

He held it up to me. "This looks expensive," he commented. "Did you buy it, Veronica?"

"Actually, no," she said, smiling. "That's what she was wearing the night I met her."

"Holy shit!" he said. "Really? How did she look?"

"Amazing, Matt. She looked amazing."

He looked thoughtful. "It's weird thinking about all this," he admitted. "My sister's a hottie. You know that's what Dad was always afraid of, why he always made you wear such conservative dresses. He was trying to keep the boys away from you until you were old enough to handle them."

"He won't have to worry about the boys anymore," I said.

Veronica snickered.

"I don't think I'd say that around him yet," Matt said seriously.

* * *

We fed Matt pizza, watched a movie together, and just generally had a nice time hanging out. It was a few minutes before eleven when we pulled up in front of the house.

Mom came out when we pulled up and made a come here gesture. I had to get out of the car to climb in the front, anyway, so I promised Veronica I would only be a minute.

"Did you have a nice time?" she asked Matt. He nodded, she shoed him inside.

"Shane." She turned to me. "Are you ready to talk to your parents yet?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Not tonight, Mom."

"No, not tonight. But tomorrow? Next week? Next month?"

"I'm not ready for any lectures about my lifestyle, Mom."

"I won't promise no lectures," she said. "But if there are any, they won't be about your lifestyle. Go home. Think about it."

I hugged her briefly then turned away. "Shane," she said.

I turned back.

"Do not cut your brother out of your life. Summer is ending soon. Use the time wisely."

"I didn't think you'd want him around us," I told her.

"You never asked, did you?"

"Go on," she said. "Think about what I said."

"Yes, Mom."

* * *

We had plans the following weekend, but I called Matt the week after. "Whatcha doing Saturday?" I asked him. "Another pizza party sound good?"

"Let me ask," he said. There was the expected muffled conversation.

"Shane," Mom said after a moment. "We have plans for Saturday. However, your father and I could drop Matt off Friday for dinner if that works for you."

I mouthed "Friday" at Veronica, and she nodded.

"Friday would be great. I'll email directions."

"We can drop him off, but you'll need to return him. Is that okay?"

I asked Veronica. "Of course."

* * *

Friday a few minutes short of six, we buzzed Matt up. I propped the door open and ran back to the kitchen. I had decided to cook. Veronica was still at work, and I was afraid the food would burn.

"Shane?" came Mom's voice.

"Kitchen!" I yelled.

All three of them came in. Mom was carrying a casserole dish.

"Casserole. Your father and I are inviting ourselves to dinner. You can tell us to get lost, but we are hoping you will let us stay. I promise no one will make a scene."

"Of course you can stay," said Veronica as she entered the kitchen. "But I thought we were having pizza."

She crossed the room to me and gave me a thorough, albeit tongue-free, kiss, right there in front of Mom.

Then she broke the kiss and put her arm around my waist. "You cooked? It smells wonderful. You're getting better."

She turned back to Mom. "We'd love to have you, Elizabeth. What would you care to drink?"

"Veronica," Mom said. "You seem to be under the mistaken belief that was going to shock me. Shane, when did you learn to cook? You never used to be interested."

"I had an epiphany, actually," I told her. Then I told her about my first dinner party at Victoria and Wendy's. "Victoria made me help her prepare dinner, and I realized how little I knew. Then I watched how much fun they had holding a party and I realized that I wanted to be able to do that, too. So I asked Veronica to teach me."

After that I gave mom and dad the brief tour. Then he asked about where I worked. So I had to explain that I'd worked for half the summer, but that Veronica told me I should spend the last half writing. So now I was writing every day, usually right in the apartment. Then they asked when they could read the stories.

"Some of them are very personal," I said. "But if you want, I can print one or two off for you to take home."

There was one dangerous moment during the tour. I had to show them the bedroom. Mom peeked into the closet. What is with my family opening closet doors? She stepped into the walk-in and rummaged through the clothes. Shit. Then she came out and said, "Gordon, can you see if Veronica needs help opening a bottle of wine. I think I could use a glass. Matt, go with them."

Matt dilly-dallied and then whispered to me, "Oh oh, she found that green thing!" Then he wisely scampered off.

Mom pulled me into the closet and dragged me straight to the corset. "This is not Veronica's size."

"No Mom, it's not."

"Did she buy this for you?"

"Actually no. It was a gift from someone else, just a friend. But that's what I was wearing the night we met."

She pulled it out and held it up to me. "It's stunning. No wonder she had eyes for you."

"There's a matching skirt." I found it and showed it to her.

"I would very much like to see you wear this some time, but I don't think you're father is ready to see this. However, he needs to see you as a mature woman, not his little girl. It's time."

I took the corset from her, put it back, then pulled out the dress Jeremy had made for me.

Mom took it from me and held it up to me. "This is stunning." Then she looked back and forth between the dress and the corset. "The brocade matches. However did that happen?"

"The same designer made both. The corset is from a standard line, but the dress he designed for me."

"You're not serious."

"He would shock you terribly," I told her. "He's huge, a monster. I called him King Kong once. He just laughed at me. He saw me wearing the corset and called me his new best friend, then started begging to design a new line of clothing around me." I indicated the dress. "This was where he started, but I'm not sure what he's done since."

Mom left the closet, bringing the dress with her, and sat on the bed.

"This is hard to keep up with, Shane," she said. "You went from our troubled little girl to this amazing woman, and it happened in the blink of an eye." She held out the dress. "I think your father needs to see you in this, and I would very much like to as well."

So I changed clothes. I put on the dress, stockings, and a pair of heels. Then I checked my hair and looked at her. There was a tear crawling down her cheek.

"You're so beautiful, Shane. I missed you growing up." She got up, dried her tears, then said, "Let's go shock your father."

He and Veronica were talking when we exited the bedroom. Matt was trying to pay attention, but it was clear he was bored. Dad's back was to me, but Veronica saw us come out of the bedroom. Mom stepped away from me so that when Dad turned around, he'd have an unobstructed view. I turned to a partial profile, arranged my hair, and waited for him.

As soon as Veronica saw what I was wearing, she clearly lost track of the conversation with Dad but just stared at me. Matt noticed first, turned around, and saw me standing there.

"Holy shit, Shane," he said.

"Language, Matt," Mom said automatically.

At that Dad turned around. His eyes bugged out.

"Hello Dad," I said. Okay it wasn't that creative, but I didn't know what else to say.

I started to cross the room to them. As I walked past Mom, she stopped me and quietly whispered. "Go to her, not him."

So I crossed the room straight to Veronica, pulled her into my arms, and kissed her. It was an exceedingly chaste kiss, as I was so aware of everyone watching me. I let her go, then slipped my arm around her waist.

"Dad, I know this isn't what you wanted, but your little girl grew up."

And then we served dinner.

Dad hadn't said a thing.

Veronica helped me in the kitchen to fetch the food. Then Mom came in as well. She caught me pouring myself a glass of the wine. She turned to Veronica.

"How much is she drinking?"

"That's her fourth glass since I met her," she said. "Unless she had some at college I didn't know about."

"Shane, do not give your father an opportunity to think you're drinking to excess. Keep it to one. And give your brother a small glass. I will not have my children waiting until they're 21, then having their first taste of alcohol when they go get hammered on their birthday."

Had the Pod People gotten Mom, too?

The three of us brought the food out. I gave Matt his wine and whispered to him. "Sip, don't guzzle, and you don't have to finish it if you don't like it." Then I set a coke down for him, too.

Dinner actually went well, if one discounts the fact that Mom and Veronica were the only two talking. Matt sat back watching the whole thing. Dad seemed afraid to say anything, and I was just holding my breath hoping this didn't all blow up.

Well, it eventually did. Dad finally spoke up. "I can't stay quiet any longer. Shane, you deeply disappointed your mother and I."

"I know. I'm sorry. But this is what I am."

"I understand that," he said. "While I'm not exactly pleased at the age difference between the two of you, I think Veronica is wonderful and I can't help but notice how the two of you look at each other. After worrying about you for two years and wondering what had you so troubled, I'm so pleased you finally have it all straightened out."

"But tell me, exactly, when I ever gave you the impression I was a bigot. Or that I wanted anything for you except your happiness?"

And with that he sat back and polished off his wine glass, then looked at me pointedly.

I finally caught my breath. "You tried to break us up."

"I most certainly did not," he said.

"You forbid me from seeing her again. That sounds like breaking us up to me."

"I will admit that was badly done. I came to the wrong conclusion based on the evidence available. I saw the way she looked at you. The way she's looking at you right now while you are wearing that rather surprising dress. And I saw you looking so nervous you were fidgeting and couldn't look me square in the eye. I came to the conclusion she was a lecherous woman who was hoping to get you into a compromising position. It never occurred to me the feelings were mutual. If I'd realized, I would have handled things dramatically differently."

"I came to the same conclusion as your father," Mom said. "This is not just his fault."

"Why didn't anyone ask me?" Matt said. "I could have told you."

Everyone ignored him.

Dad turned to Veronica. "I presume you arranged the financing she needed to pay for school without us?" She nodded. "Your own money." She nodded again. "You can afford this?"

"With some sacrifices, yes. I won't buy a new car this year. But yes I can afford it."

"Is it a gift, or a loan?"

"A loan," she said.

"And the terms?"

"Are none of your business," I told him. "The terms are between Veronica and me."

"Your father is a mortgage broker, Shane," Mom said. "You don't think he might have some professional interest in the matter?"

"And I am my father's daughter," I replied. "And I have listened to every word he ever said about money, loans, and the like. I can recognize good terms from bad ones."

Dad turned to Mom. "She's right," he said.

Dad turned back to me. "I believe that addresses the outstanding issues from the past. Now, we have the future. Your mother and I expect to see both of you every other weekend. More would be wonderful, but that's a minimum. You will coordinate with your mother."

He grinned triumphantly. "Now, who is going to explain about this dress you're wearing?"

Chapter 15: Remaining Ripples

Weeks turned into months turned into years. By the time I graduated from Knightly, I'd published several stories in magazines. Not big magazines, and I didn't make much money, but it was a start. The summer after junior year, I wrote my first novel. It was rejected by every publisher who ever saw it. But I wrote it for me, and Veronica loved it as well. That was all that mattered.

I never became famous, but I made enough as a writer that I never felt like I was a kept woman, either. I fiercely believed in what I was writing, and I developed a small but enthusiastic fan base.

I paid Veronica back for my student loan. That was a fight. I tried giving her the advance from my first novel that sold. We were at the dining room table, each of us going through our mail. I showed her the check, we kissed, and then I just signed it and handed the check to her and said, "First payment."

"What are you talking about?"

"My student loan," I told her. "Here's my first payment."

"When we I made that loan, I told you that as long as we were dating, I wasn't accepting payments against it. I promised that. Are you trying to make me break my promise? Do you want me to start breaking other promises to you?"

She slid the check back to me.

"And I promised to you that I would pay it back. And I am, starting right now."

The check slid back and forth on the table several times before Veronica slammed her hand on the table. "No!" she yelled at me.

That heated things up.

Eventually, of course, we came to an agreement. She absolutely would not allow me to pay any interest charges. Nor would she let me give her more than ten percent of anything I made. She would accept checks if I insisted on given them to her, but she wasn't happy about it and as far as she was concerned, I didn't owe her a thing.

Over the next several years, in checks big and small, I repaid her. And several years after that, while we were contemplating a significant purchase, she took me to the bank and showed me a bank account with both our names on it. She'd taken every penny I'd given her and deposited the money.

She didn't scream my name that night, but she whispered it a lot.

* * *

I remained on Veronica's payroll up until the day she sold the company. It could be weeks or even months between days I worked for her, but when she needed me, I was there to step in.

There was one notable incident a year after I had graduated from college. I'd been working on my third novel for the last several weeks. When I write, I tend to lose focus on the other things around me, so I hadn't noticed that Veronica had been working longer and longer hours and was looking rather frazzled.

The previous night I'd been awake until well after two, writing. Veronica left before I got up. At ten I was still in my jammies, sitting on the sofa, editing the novel. There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for permission, Bob and Brian came in.

"Um. Hey guys, you could wait for me to answer." I started to give them shit then noticed their expressions. "What's wrong?"

"Why aren't you helping?" Bob asked me.

"Helping with what?"

"Veronica is in trouble, and you're sitting around in your jammies," said Brian.

"What? What kind of trouble? Is she okay?"

"She's working ninety-five hour weeks, and you haven't noticed?"

I hadn't noticed. What was wrong with me?

"Why so many hours? I told her to get some help in."

"She said Yes to too many clients. Frankly she had to, the work was too good to turn down, and several of them are longtime clients we wouldn't want to lose. So she has that extra work load," Bob explained.

"And she hired an assistant, but well, she's not you." Brian added.

"Shit," I said. I dropped the laptop on the sofa and headed to the bedroom. I grabbed a business suit and hauled it back out to the living room. "Okay, details," I said.

Then, right in front of the two guys, I stripped out of my jammies, put on a bra, then pulled on the suit. I turned around and said, "Zip me," then fumbled into a pair of stockings. It was then I noticed neither of them were giving me any of the details. I looked at them and they were both staring at me. Bob's jaw had dropped open.

"Um. You guys are gay, right?"

"I've got a girlfriend," Brian said. "We're getting married next month. Didn't you get the wedding invitation?" He pointed to Bob. "And he wishes he had a girlfriend."

"Oh shit," I said. I'd just stood naked in front of two of Veronica's employees. "Please please PLEASE do not tell Veronica I just did that."

"Scout's honor," said Brian. Then he reached over and closed Bob's mouth for him.

I finished getting dressed without doing anything else too terribly stupid. I decided to forego makeup and then led the way next door to the office. I stormed in.

"Why didn't you say something?" I demanded as I stormed into her office. I had my hands on my hips and glared at her. Bob and Brian hid in the hallway. I noticed some mousy girl standing behind Veronica, but I ignored her.

Veronica noticed Bob and Brian and looked back at me. "You two are fired!" she said.

"No they are not," I said. "You two get in here, stop skulking." Then I looked at her. "Well?"

"You were writing. Feeding the muse. I can handle it."

"The muse is fed," I told her. "I finished last night. Now it's just editing, and the muse takes a break and visits someone else for that, anyway. She thinks editing is boring."

I looked around. "Bob, I need a list of active clients and any due dates. Plus any that we think are about to become active. And anything else I need to know. I need it now."

"I need ten minutes," he replied. I nodded, and he ran to his office.

"Brian, other than the work load, what else is wrong? What is she handling that I can handle?" I pointed to Veronica.

"None of us got paid today. That's the current crisis. The accounting company had problems with their computers. They said it will be fixed early next week."

"Shit. Okay. You." I snapped my fingers at the girl. "I don't know your name."

"I'm Melissa," she said in a small voice.

"I'm Shane. I am the sometimes office manager." I'd just given myself a new title. "Melissa, I need the payroll numbers and the name and number of our contact at the accounting firm. I used to know that, but it tends to change."

She stood there, staring at me.

I turned to Brian. "How long has she worked here?" I asked, pointing to Melissa.

"Six weeks," he said quietly.

I turned back to Melissa. "The information I need should be on that iPad in your hands. I know. I'm the one who put it there." I watched as she started flipping through the iPad, clearly not having a clue what she was doing.

I stormed over, took it from her, and went to the information I needed. The data looked old, so I checked Veronica's calendar, then other pieces of information. "What the fuck?" I said. "This hasn't been synced in a week and a half."

I walked around Veronica's desk, leaned over her, and checked the calendar there. There were recent updates, but it hadn't been synced to the server, either.

"What. The. Fuck!" I yelled, turning to glare at Melissa. "What the hell have you been doing? How can you do your job if you don't keep the data sync'd." I spun around to Brian. "Has Veronica been missing client meetings?"

"They've been getting double booked," he said. "Sometimes triple. Bob and I are trying to cover, but there's only so much we can do."

I spun back to Melissa, who by now was quivering and shrinking away from me. She hadn't said a word since she'd given me her name.

"Shane, it's not her fault," Veronica said quietly. "You were trained properly. She hasn't been. If you're going to yell, yell at me."

I looked at Veronica then back to Melissa.

"Do you have a brain?"

She nodded.

"Are you willing to use it?"

She nodded.

"Until this crisis is over, you will shadow me. You will learn your job. If you do not learn your job to my satisfaction by the time I have fixed this mess, you are fired. Do you want me to fire you?"

She stuck her chin out. "You're not my boss. You can't fire me."

I recognized that look. It took her time, but she had a backbone. "You're still in school? Where?"

"Knightly. It's a-"

"I know about Knightly," I said. My expression turned dark, and I turned to Veronica.

She shrugged. "The last student I hired from Knightly turned out so well, I thought I'd try again."

I looked back at Melissa. She was kind of cute. I turned back to Veronica. "If she's gay you are in deep shit."

Brian started snickering at that. "Shane," he said quietly. "We have a lot of things here for you to fix, but that's not one of them."

"Melissa," Veronica said. "Do whatever Shane tells you."

I synced the computers, looked at Veronica's schedule, then grabbed the payroll information I needed. I grabbed a piece of paper from Veronica's desk, wrote a name and number on it, and turned to Melissa.

"Your office here is still yours, Shane," said Veronica. "I don't let anyone else use it."

"Melissa, my office is next door." I pointed. "Go in there, dial this number, and get this person on the line. If you have trouble getting this person, start yelling at them and threatening to sue their asses."

She scampered away just as Bob returned with the information I needed. I glanced at it, showed it to Veronica, and said, "Anything missing?"

She scanned it and added two more names.

I took the list back. "Why is everyone working on too many clients?"

"We've been trying to hire," Veronica said, "But I can't find anyone I'm willing to work with."

I turned to the guys. "Is she being too picky?"

"No," they said. "Everyone who has come in has been legitimately a bad fit. Poor skills, too arrogant that no one would want to work with them, that sort of thing."

I scanned the list again. "Fine. What other crisis do we have?"

"My calendar is a mess," Veronica admitted. "The appointments are all over town."

"I'll fix it. You guys, do some design stuff. I'll take care of everything else."

I marched out and over to my office. Melissa was on the phone. "That's right!" she said. "I need to speak to this person now or heads are going to roll. RIGHT NOW."

I looked at the clock. Then I heard Melissa say, "Finally. Please hold for Shane-"

"Dowling," I told her.

"Shane Dowling." She put the call on hold.

"Good job," I told her. I used the iPad and flipped to the contact page for a local caterer we've used before. "Find another phone. Call these people. Tell them we need food for everyone here, lots of food, every lunch this week and next. Ask them if they can do it."

I picked up the phone. "This is Shane Dowling. I am the Vice President of Operations for Veronica Wilson Designs. Why the hell did my employees not get paid today?" I loved giving myself two promotions within a ten-minute period.

I listened to a completely craptastic answer about broken computer systems.

"We are a 9-person company," I told them, scanning the payroll list. "It would take a first year bookkeeping intern about four minutes to do our payroll manually. So I presume that's already been done and the paperwork is being couriered over as we speak."

"That's not how we do it here," I was told.

"Listen to me and listen carefully," I said. "Ms. Wilson has used your accounting firm since she opened her business. She's been a loyal customer, if small. She has given referrals for your firm that I personally know have netted you four other clients, two of them significantly bigger than we are." I knew no such thing, but it sounded good. "She would love to continue what has until today been a harmonious relationship. But her first loyalty is to her employees, and They. Need. To. Be. Paid. Now, you will find some old lady who has worked on manual payroll systems for the first sixty of her years at your firm, and you will hand her the information I will fax to you the moment this phone call is over. She will do our paperwork manually and courier it back. You will call me when that has happened so I know to expect it. The information I need to write manual checks will be in my hands by 2 PM today so that my employees can deposit their checks and make their god damned rent!"

I paused. "If you can do these things, which will take only a few minutes, then everyone is happy, crisis averted, and we can move past this. If not, Ms. Wilson's client list includes a number of lawyers whose personal presences I severely dislike but who would love to file a lawsuit for us."

I listened to the response. "Excellent," I said sweetly. "I'm so glad we could work this out. Thank you so much for being so understanding. I will expect your return phone call within the hour."

I sent the payroll list to the printer, found it, then went in search of Melissa. She stood up as I entered the conference room.

"The caterer can't make an order today. They apologized, but it's just too short notice for them. They offered the rest of the week and next and a discount in thanks. I told them I'd call back. Then I called a local sandwich shop and arranged for sandwiches, chips, and pop. They also said they could do an afternoon snack tray. I ordered everything. Please tell me that was right."

"Okay, you have a brain," I told her. "Yes, that was right. Call back and confirm with the caterer, use your own judgment on it. Meet me back in Veronica's office when you're done."

I made use of the fax machine and sent off the payroll list. Then I grabbed my phone and hit a number.

"Shane!" came Jeremy's booming voice. "Please tell me you're calling to arrange another modeling session. I have some new things for you to see."

"Jeremy," I said. "Veronica needs your help for a few weeks. Are you free?"

"Oh honey, I might be cheap, but I'm never free."

I laughed. "You're not cheap, either. You're exceedingly expensive. Jeremy, if you do this for me, I'll model whatever you want."

"Shane, I'd love to help, but I don't know the least little thing about interior design. I do clothing."

"Jeremy, are you telling me you couldn't help pick out colors and fabrics?"

"Don't be insulting!" he said. "Of course I could, but anyone could do that."

"No, Jeremy, they couldn't. She needs you. Right away. Please."

"Of course I can come," he said. "I can be there in twenty minutes. Is that soon enough?"

"You're the best, Jeremy. I love you."

"I love you too. See you soon."

I called the accounting firm back and verified they received the fax. They had. I then headed back to Veronica's office.

"Payroll will be resolved today," I said walking in. "We'll have to cut manual checks." I headed to Veronica's desk and nudged her aside to get the checkbook ledger.

"We heard," Veronica said. "The entire office heard."

I blushed. "Sorry."

"Don't be," said Brian. "Didn't you hear the applause?"

"I un-fired Bob and Brian," Veronica said. "They were right to get you."

"Of course they were. Lunches for the next two weeks are handled. No one needs to go out unless they want to. Melissa is going to work out, she has a brain in there after all." I was counting on my fingers. "One more thing. Oh yeah, Jeremy will be by shortly to fill in. Figure out how you can use him."

Veronica's eyes got wide. "Why didn't I think of him? Oh, he's going to be brilliant. I've never met anyone who was better with fabric."

After that I started cleaning up Veronica's schedule. It was a mess. I moved everything around. Several clients were unhappy about it, but I told them Veronica was just so excited about their projects she wanted to talk to them sooner. Or she was working so hard on their projects and wanted to get them just right, so it would take another day or two. That mollified everyone.

Jeremy showed up. He came ambling in, taking up half the space of the office. He saw me and pulled me into a huge Jeremy hug. "I'm so glad you called!" he said. Then he did what he always did -- he started messing with my clothes.

"What are you wearing? That is hideous." He started trying to rearrange it.

"Jeremy, until you start designing a clothing line I can actually wear to the office, I'm stuck with what I can find."

* * *

The crisis was averted. Melissa worked out, at least for the summer. Jeremy was brilliant and loved it, but was happy to get back to clothes when everything was caught up. Veronica and I both worked crazy hours, but things settled back down, especially once I found two more designers.

The punishment for changing clothes in front of Bob and Brian was exquisite.

* * *

Eventually I was bringing in enough money from writing that I asked Veronica, "What charities do you donate to? How do you pick them?"

She stammered a reply.

"Um. Veronica. You don't donate to any charities?"

"I buy Girl Scout cookies," she said, "and a wreath from the Boy Scouts every fall."

That turned into a longer conversation. But it was a busy time of the year. It seemed they were all busy by then. Veronica eventually wrote a check and handed it to me. She said, "Can you just give this to whomever you think most deserves it. Just handle it every year."

It was a pretty significant check. Not millions significant, but a lot. So the next day I went back to the banker and said, "Can we set up a small charitable foundation? What are the rules?"

And so we did. From that point forward, every year towards the end of the year, Veronica would give me a check. Some years the check was larger than other years. I simply started giving at first ten percent of any money I made to the foundation as well, but over time that slowly turned into twenty percent. Once Veronica's staff found out about the foundation, they also started giving us money. Then I found ways to use the money to reinvest in the community.

Veronica and I talked about it and we both agreed that the money should be used locally. So I spent time every year finding the right things to do with it. I looked for modest projects, where the amounts we could provide might really help. We donated heavily to a local shelter for battered women and local food shelves, for instance. I always discussed the programs with Veronica, and sometimes she and I would also volunteer for the organizations.

We both ended up acting as mentors for numerous young girls over the years. Some of those were formally recognized, a lot was quite informal. We tried to help where we could.

* * *

We never had kids of our own. Of course, we couldn't produce one together, but we could have pursued a variety of arrangements. We talked about them, but we decided that what we were doing was good, that our lives were rich the way they were. Neither of us ever regretted that decision.

Hosting foreign exchange students was fun.

And being Auntie Shane and Auntie Veronica to Matt's kids was great. We spoiled his kids rotten.

* * *

Time passes, of course, like it always does.

I was sitting in the grass, reading Veronica a story. It was just a couple of pages, but I was sure she would have liked it. I had brought flowers with me and nestled them against her gravestone. She'd been gone for two years.

When she'd gotten sick, she told me, "Find other lovers. You're still young, I don't want you to be alone."

Another day she said, "It's okay if you sell our apartment. I know it may be hard to stay there after I'm gone."

I'd begged her to get better. I'd begged god to make her better. Veronica just held me, caressing my hair, by then more grey than red, but still just as long as ever, and told me over and over that she loved me, and how happy I'd made her.

And then she died, and I was alone. For the first time in my entire life, I was completely alone.

That was two years ago.

I finished reading the story to her. "I thought you'd like this one," I told her. "I was thinking about that time you made me model the rubber cat suit. I don't remember what I'd done to push your buttons, but you'd called Wendy and asked if we could come straight over for a modeling session. And so I wrote about a magical cat suit that when you wore it, you became a cat."

I could imagine her laughing at me.

"I have a novel, Roni, but I'm not sure I'm going to write it."

I reached up and pulled the scarf off my bald head. "I don't think the chemo is working anymore, Roni. I hurt all the time now, and I don't think it's going to be long. I don't think I have the energy to write the novel, but when I see you, I can tell you all about it."

I started to cry a little. "Remember when I cut my hair? I promised I'd never cut it again, and now. Look. It's all gone. You wouldn't recognize me."

It was a Tuesday, mid morning. The cemetery was quiet. I liked to come on Tuesdays because no one ever bothered me. I noticed a woman walking across the cemetery towards me, but I didn't pay her any mind.

I lied down across Veronica's grave and tried to imagine her holding me.

"I miss you, Roni, but it won't be long now. Did you wait for me?"

The woman walked straight up to me and sat down cross-legged facing me. I just stared at her. Didn't she realize this was private?

Then she reached over for the flowers I'd brought and picked them up. She started to pull the bouquet apart.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

She took the first rose, poked the stem into the ground, and held it there for a moment. And I swear, it started to take root. I stared as she did the same with remaining eleven roses. By the time she was done, there was an entire rose bush blooming all over the gravestone. Then she finally looked at me, and she was glowing.

"I'm so proud of you, Shane," she said.

"I hate you!" I screamed at her. "I hate you hate you hate you!"

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry."

"You took her from me, and I miss her so much. You could have helped her, and you didn't!"

"I'm sorry."

"You could have let us die together. I want her back! Bring her back."

"She loved the story you just read. She was laughing while you wrote it."

"What?"

"She's always with you, Shane. When you're in the apartment, and you think you can smell her personal scent, it's her, holding you. She misses you, too. She asked me to help you. She knows you hurt now."

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you. I'm so very proud of you, Shane. I don't meddle very often, and I do love it when the results are as glorious as you have been."

"I didn't do anything special, "I said.

"Don't be daft," she said, shaking a finger at me. She cocked her head. "You really believe that, don't you?"

I shrugged, feeling like a petulant girl. Then I remembered what Roni called me all the time and I started crying again.

"Shhh, shhh," the woman said. "I know it hurts, missing her so much, but you'll be together again. I'm so proud of you. For a lot of lovers, one lifetime is more than enough. For the two of you, an eternity may not be enough." She paused. "Oh, but where was I? Oh, yes, nothing special, you say? Perhaps we should catalog just how un-special you've been, shall we?"

I shrugged again and tried to stop crying.

"Well, let's talk about Veronica first then, shall we?"

"Can I ask you something first?"

"You can ask, I may not answer."

"Did you make us love each other?"

She laughed. "No, that was all you. Shane, you know, I gave man three gifts. I gave them life and this planet. I gave them brains. And I gave them free will. And I never meddle with those." She looked around. "I wish you would take better care of the planet. I wish people would use their brains more often. But I'm not going to step all over free will and force anyone."

She shrugged. "But I'll nudge. I gave you Shane's body, her memories, and her problems. I let you keep enough of what makes you special that I thought you could take care of those, and you did. I knew you would need help. I didn't know you would ask Victoria and Wendy. When I thought about unusual places for help, they weren't at all what I had in mind, but I surely did love watching you when you walked into their store."

She smiled. "And then, when they were planning the dinner party, I looked at who they were going to invite. Veronica wasn't on the list. They thought she was too old for you. But then I simply reminded Wendy of what a fabulous guest Veronica is, and how you could use a mentor in the business world, someone they trusted, so she got an invitation. And then I had to nudge Veronica just a little bit to cancel her other plans. I reminded her the plans weren't important. After that, it was all you."

She paused. "Well, almost all you. Veronica was wrong and you were right. Neither the old Shane nor the old you had ever heard of tango. That was all me. I slipped that into you only after you asked her to swing dance. It was what made the sale, I think."

"You taught me to tango?" She nodded. I thought about it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I did so enjoy watching you and Veronica dance together. So much love, so much passion."

"When she wrapped her arms around me and I felt her breath on my neck, I think that's when I started to fall in love with her. Being held by someone had never felt so amazing as stepping into her arms that first time." I paused, still feeling distrustful. "You didn't make us love each other?"

"Not in the slightest," she said. "When I saw the directions things were going, I thought, how perfect. So I meddled just enough to give you a chance, that's all. A meeting, a dance. I let the two of you figure it out from there."

She looked sad for a moment. "Veronica needed help, too, Shane. She was lonely. She had so much potential to love, and I absolutely adore the houses she decorated. They're so uplifting. But before you, her houses were darker, more stark. They were good, but they didn't lift the human spirit the way her designs did when loving you." She smiled. "Do you remember the night you finally made Veronica scream your name?"

"Hey! You weren't supposed to watch things like that!" I blushed, but I remembered. I couldn't get her to scream often. Usually she whispered. But that night she screamed.

"The next day, she did a design for a couple. The design featured hints of a certain shade of red with a green brocade."

"She used my colors in someone else's house?"

"The couple it was for had a little girl of eight years old. That little girl had hair precisely the color of yours. So Veronica used that color as a design element. That little girl grew up in a house where everywhere she looked, she saw subtle reminders that she was loved. Without those reminders, things would have been different for her."

I decided that was okay.

"Then shall we talk about all the young girls you and Veronica helped together? Or the employees who made their livelihood from the business the two of you ran? Before you came along, Veronica worked long hours and was rarely happy, and her staff knew it. She was the boss, nothing more. But after you, Veronica was happy. Always happy, and that completely changed how she interacted with her staff. She wasn't just a boss, she was their friend. And when they needed help, they knew they could go to her. And that's because of you."

God smiled. "But let's move on. Should we talk about Matt?"

"Matt was just fine without me."

"Yes, he was. Do you remember ever meeting a friend of his named Jordan?"

I did. "Matt told me she was gay and didn't have many friends."

"She didn't have any friends. Not one. The kids at school thought she was weird. But Matt befriended her. They're still friends to this day. And he would talk about you and Veronica to her. Instead of having a horrible high school experience, Jordan's was okay. I would have liked it to have been better, but Matt made it okay. And while she struggled with her relationships for a while, she knew real love existed, and she didn't settle until she found it."

The woman tapped me on the nose. "And that's all because Matt learned about love from you and Veronica."

"Mom and Dad."

"Your parents loved each other very much, but they were very conservative about showing it. You and Veronica, however, were not. No one could be in the same room with you and not see how much you loved each other. Matt saw it. And he shared that with Jordan. And now he shares it with Sarah, his wife."

"He got lucky there," I admitted.

"Not luck. He saw what you and Veronica had and knew he wanted the same thing for himself. So Matt and Sarah are deeply in love, and that wouldn't have happened if Matt had pursued relationships differently. And their children grew up in a household where love flourished, so they're happy and well adjusted."

The woman stretched for a moment, taking in the mid morning sunshine. "I do love this time of day," she said.

"Now, let's talk about your stories."

"I wasn't very successful."

"Poppycock. You put a lot of yourself into those stories, and it always showed. No one could read one of your novels and not come out of it a better person. Furthermore, you were open about your sexuality, so younger girls reading your novels grew up to have you as a role model. You prevented three suicides and kept four other girls from other forms of physically self-destructive behavior. Two drug addicts read your novels during treatment programs, finding the strength to make it through the programs whereas without your novels, they may not have. Four hundred and seventy nine of your readers in some way got involved in anti-bullying campaigns, either stopping their own bullying, not starting bullying they would have started otherwise, or intervening in bullying done by others. One thousand and seventy nine people after reading your novels and learning more about you finally understood what love was and were able to make changes in their lives that made things better."

Then she looked sad for a moment before brightening again. "But the best part of all this came from one teenage girl. Do you remember a book signing you did in Des Moines eight years ago?"

I nodded.

"There was a girl in back, dressed in goth. She asked you how you initially coped with coming out."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember her."

"It's okay. You told her that you asked for help."

"Okay, it sounds like something I'd say."

"After the book signing, she walked to the nearest hospital, walked up to the front desk, pulled a gun out of her purse and set it on the counter, and said, 'I was going to go home and shoot my parents and then myself. I need help. Can you help me?'"

"I didn't know," I said in a small voice.

"Of course you didn't, dear. The rock doesn't know what happens to the ripples in the pond, either. But Shane, you have made some of the most amazing ripples. Thank you ever so much."

I looked around at Veronica's grave. "They'll mow these flowers down."

"No one mows my flowers down," she said.

"Thank you for them, they're lovely. Roni would have liked them."

"Roni does like them."

"You could take me to her now."

"I'm sorry, Shane. Soon, but not yet. You have two more stories you need to tell."

"Only one," I replied. "And I can't. I can barely get a few pages out. I have to take the drugs for the pain, and they make me sleepy. And lately, they aren't really helping with the pain, either."

And then she reached over and laid her hands on my stomach. Her hands were glowing.

"No! Stop! Don't you dare heal me! I'm ready to go, just take me with you. I want my Roni!"

She ignored me. I tried to pull away, to break the contact, but I was frozen in place. After a short time, the glowing stopped and she nodded, one. The pain was gone, every last bit of it was gone.

"How could you?!" I screamed at her.

"Hush, child," she said. "I didn't cure you. I won't take you today, but I didn't cure you. I took the pain away, and I slowed the cancer down."

"No!"

"Just a little, Shane. Trust me, just a little. I need this from you, Shane. I promise you'll be together again soon."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart." And she did just that. "Shane, you have two stories left, and I really need you to write them."

"I only have one."

"Yes, right now. I need you to write it. And then set it aside. After that, I think it's time you tell Veronica's story."

"What story?"

"Don't worry, when it's time, she'll whisper it to you. You'll know what to write. Trust yourself, just write it."

I nodded.

"You won't live to see either novel published."

"I don't care."

"When you're done, give both novels to Matt. Ask him to take care of them for you. That part is important too."

"Why? My agent can take care of them."

"I'm not answering that. Give them to Matt."

I looked into her face before nodding acceptance. "I've never been alone before," I told her. "Can you bring Roni back for me?"

"No, Shane, but I have someone else for you." And then she puckered her lips and whistled, then turned and looked.

I looked with her. Walking across the cemetery towards us was a beautiful if elderly Golden Retriever.

"Suze?" I said. I looked at God. "I couldn't remember her before. Her name is Suze." I crouched down and Suze came straight to me, shoving her big furry head into my face. She gave me a quick lick and then sat down.

"How?" I asked. "You told me my brother took her in."

"He did. She lived for two more years with him before returning to me."

"Then how? She looks exactly like I last saw her."

"I did a little rewind for her. She asked."

"She asked?"

"Yes. This morning. I'd gone to talk to Veronica about you. She and Suze have become such good friends. I told Veronica I was going to talk to you. Suze walked up to me and told me in no uncertain terms she was coming with. So here we are."

I hugged my dog and cried in her fur. "I've missed you, Suze. I didn't know it, but I did." Then I looked at the woman. "Where will I walk her? We're in the middle of the city."

"I suppose at that lovely park you own across the street."

"You mean the ugly lot no one wants to claim?"

"I believe you are mistaken, Shane. It's a beautiful little park with grass and flowers and trees." She looked at me pointedly.

"Oh." I said, realizing what she'd done. "You meddled a lot."

She nodded. "Shane, you can trust Suze. She's very smart. She won't get hit by a car. She'll be able to walk herself once you can't. And there's a homeless person who sleeps in the park. If you let him stay there and pay him a little bit, he'll keep the park looking nice."

"Write the stories, Shane, give them to Matt. Love Suze." She paused. "It won't hurt. Then you and Suze together can join Veronica."

She got up and turned to walk away. "I'm ever so proud of you, Shane."

She walked away. I looked at Suze. She helped me stand up. "Ready for a car ride, girl?"

About the author:

Julia P. Lynde lives and works in the American mid-west. This is her first novel.

Julia is older than most of the characters in her books. She has blue eyes and grey hair. She enjoys hiking in the mountains (difficult to do in the mid-west) and hosting dinner parties.

Julia can be reached via email as julia.p.lynde@gmail.com.

Rewind

Copyright 2012 by Julia P. Lynde

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

* * *

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