Logged On

[BadForm]

The_Monitor: And so you are the butterfly.

The words were so simple and yet, at the same time, a profound statement Katheryn hadn't told anyone about since she chose the online name.

The_Monitor: The one who is pinned, inescapably, in the collector's case. The one prized for beauty, for the special quality that must be possessed, owned, prevented from escape.

The_Monitor: Your fantasy is ownership. Service yes, but to one who delights in what you bring and what you are.

There was a delay. It was enough to let her breath catch within her throat at what she had said and how The_Monitor had responded. Was it what she meant, to be owned? Every single instance she had listed was a playing out of ownership - the sultan, the manor lord, the rancher, even the rival lawyer, all had control and power at the end if not throughout. And that was the situation she was now in, albeit with a cold, unfeeling entity that stated they would soon be parted.

The_Monitor: It is time to begin.

The_Monitor: It is time to remove the veneer of the painting that it can be restored. This will hurt, but you will be strong.

The_Monitor: And the one who gains power over you will appreciate it. That I promise.

The screen was static a few moments, giving her time to wonder what removing her veneer would mean.

The_Monitor: To begin with, a fact. Decorative flags such as you have now put outside are ugly. True, some people with children buy them for their children. However, within the United States, only one in four such flags are purchased by their owners.

It took a moment for Katheryn to even understand why this was being mentioned, but her mind eventually took her there. If the other's weren't bought then... How big exactly was The_Monitor? She thought about her neighbors and...

The_Monitor: littlebear did not buy her flag.

The_Monitor: She gave you this gift.

The_Monitor: Why do you think she understood your instruction not to call here again without permission?

Katheryn felt her world begin to crack. Grace? It couldn't be. The_Monitor did not give her time to dwell on the though too long before continuing.

The_Monitor: Further, you should realize that it is lonely when your husband is on the road.

That seemed a foolish statement. She knew it was lonely, that is why she had begun having netsex and got into this mess in the first place. It seemed foolish, until it was spelt out for her.

The_Monitor: It is not merely lonely for you.

Once again, her Netscape browser took her to a web cam. It showed a half-dark bedroom. In the bed, a man was lying on top of a woman, having sex with her. His back was to the camera positioned above him, but if she chose to believe it, she could see he might have the same skin tone, hair color and hair length as Sean. It also might not be him, of course, but the thought had now been planted.

The_Monitor: He will be returning home for the weekend tomorrow afternoon. If you doubt what you see you could ask him.

Another delay gave this possibility time to sink in before The_Monitor returned to a previous question.

The_Monitor: We shall be ending our conversation soon. It is time to choose your reward, although I believe I know what you will select.

 

[Arioso]

butterfly: I believe you know as well.

It was easier for Katheryn to go with momentum, and type out the choice she had already made earlier, than to try to make sense of the cacophony of questions rumbling in her mind.

A camera on Sean how could they do that unless he's involved in The_Monitor too or his partner is and does this mean he already knows about me will he still be angry or understand why hasn't he ever invited me to come with him if he's lonely am I no longer appealing dear God Grace has been through this entire process my little girl not so little any more is having sex but so was I at that age why didn't she just tell me about this why did she give this to me what does she think is wrong with me does everyone know about The_Monitor but me am I the last one....

Katheryn felt some of her anxieties melting away with these new revelations, and couldn't prevent herself from laughing shakily.

She no longer felt guilty about turning to cybersex to ease her loneliness after seeing the video...yes, it was Sean. And strangely, she wasn't even angry at him. She just wondered...was there something wrong with her? Was she old and stale, and no longer even an option for curing his loneliness?

And her fears for her children's safety eased tremendously. Grace knows. At least she knows.

butterfly: I would like to know Bulldog's name and contact information, please.

After The_Monitor had relayed the details to her, quickly enough that Katheryn knew her choice had been anticipated, she asked whether she was free to contact him. After an affirmative reply, she pressed further, wanting to be clear on what was permitted and what wasn't.

butterfly: Are there limits on the contact I can have with him? May we actually meet?

The_Monitor's reply was a bit odd -- establishing a rather peculiar limit, but not preventing her from meeting Bulldog in person, and indicating that aside from respecting that one limit, the two of them would be free to determine everything else that would happen at their meeting. The warmth of reassurance and relief simmered deep within Katheryn's breast.

Her world was tilting on its axis. Every firm foundation was crumbling. Things she'd taken for granted no longer appeared as they'd seemed. But she at least had the chance to talk with someone sympathetic who might be able to help her understand more. Not her daughter -- she wasn't ready to speak with Grace about this yet! Someone who had different...intimate...insights about Katheryn, even after just one, brief encounter. Someone who had his own story to share.

Someone whose touch she quietly admitted she wanted to feel again.

After receiving a few more final instructions from The_Monitor, Katheryn anxiously asked if she would be permitted to ask one more question.

The_Monitor: You may ask. I can anticipate two possible questions you have at this moment. One I can answer; one I cannot.

Katheryn nodded, knowing that there were indeed two pressing questions on her mind. One weighed her down like an anchor; the other promised to buoy her spirits up and help her survive this strange, overwhelming process.

She would not ask the first. That could wait for Sean to return home. So soon...in this whole ordeal, she'd lost track of time.

butterfly: Is Grace happy?

There was a pause, and Katheryn could alternately imagine The_Monitor laughing at her or struggling to regain his patience with her for asking yet another predictable question that could not be answered fully.

However, the pause was brief.

The_Monitor: Yes, littlebear is happy. Although you understand that just as I told you in answer to one of your other questions, I cannot read minds, and therefore am incapable of speaking fully for littlebear on her state of emotional well-being. But ask yourself this: would she have offered you this gift if she had been unhappy with the results herself?

And Katheryn felt the first layer of varnish washing away as relief, peace of mind, flooded through her.

She knew she had to let go. Her kids were on their own two feet now. And there was no clearer reassurance to a mother that her children could survive on their own than to discover...one of them had actually grown beyond her, farther and faster.

When she logged off, Katheryn lost no time in contacting Bulldog -- she still thought of him in the name that he had whispered to her that night. Anticipation quickened the blood in her veins when he sounded glad to hear from her, and quite willingly agreed to a meeting.

She chose a simple, lavender tank dress that...now that she looked at it more carefully...was dappled with a subdued, modest pattern of white flowers and butterflies. Why hadn't she noticed them before? It wasn't excessively revealing (although he'd already seen her naked, so that wasn't high on her list of concerns), but it clung to her form, accentuating the vitality of her body. Slipping on a pair of sandals, Katheryn grabbed her keys and her purse and headed out toward the same park....the same copse of trees...but for a meeting on different terms, and in broad daylight.

 

[BadForm]

Bulldog, it turned out, lived just five blocks from her on Sautten Road. That was an area of town that, while not rough, was working class. His name was Mike Wainsborough. He worked as a bricklayer, which made the gentleness of his touch even more suprising. His phone number, his email address, his AIM account were all provided. The AIM account was, predictably, Bulldog. The email, she thought as she walked, was strange. Bulldog@monitor.edu. It was the obvious ID, of course, but it seemed impossible that The_Monitor could be an educational establishment.

The rest of the instructions she had received were simple. First, she was not permitted to be sexual with Bulldog unless ordered to do so by The_Monitor. The explanation given was creepy - it would harm his education and development. That said, she was not prevented from meeting with him in any way. The_Monitor repeated the fact that, unless instructed to do something, she was not required to do so and, unless instructed not to do something, she had the right to do as she pleased. One instruction was put in place that did not sit easily, for the next week she would not attempt to contact littlebear. No explanation was given. Finally, she was instructed to log back on at midnight. The rest of the day was hers.

Bulldog

My heart lept when the phone rang. I had been waiting, hoping that she would be given my information as a reward for how well she had done. I longed to see her again. Since The_Monitor had sent me a single message just seconds beforehand confirming my hopes, I had no reason to believe it was anyone but her.

"H-Hello... Bulldog here."

If it had been telemarketers they would have wondered what the hell was going on. Thankfully, it wasn't - it was her, butterfly. She sounded flustered, but eager to meet and we quickly made a decision to return to the lake overlook where I had pleasured her. That was a delightful idea, bringing back such feelings for both of us. For her, I guessed, it would be the first time she had met anyone else she knew to be in The_Monitor's control. For me, it was the first time I would meet someone I had helped initiate. I always wondered what a person looked like after their first time.

If only we could carry on.

The thought spread through my mind like the softest cream. It was impossible of course, at least without direction. I was no longer an initiate, no longer looking for transformation. I had transformed, I was now a servant. A servant, not an agent. My kind followed orders. My sex was at command. And that was how I liked it.

I ran upstairs to change, donning my best shirt and trousers. The trousers were slightly scuffed, as were many things in my wardrobe, but they were reasonable. I had no idea what she would be wearing of course, nor whether she were anything from a welfare queen to an oil baroness. All of that I would discover in a few minutes.

The sun was shining when I got outside, and a glance at my watch told me it was nearly 1:30 now. I couldn't delay any longer. I wanted to be there when she arrived and I did not know how close she lived. With a pounding heart, I started to jog. It took just seven minutes to reach the park and another couple to drawn near the overlook. That's when I saw her, about ten yards behind me on the path. I considered stopping and going up to her, but this was not where we arranged to meet. Instead I carried on the few more yards to the edge of the lake and waited.

"Bulldog...?" Her voice was nervous as she stood behind me.

I turned and looked down into her eyes, smelling the memory of her scent on the breeze.

"Yes, butterfly." I said softly.

 

[Arioso]

He was so unexpected.

His rough exterior and muscular build definitely fit the nickname Bulldog. But the shyness in his eyes? It seemed so out of place in one with such raw strength and, as Katheryn knew from experience, such raw passion.

Slowly, she walked toward him, drinking in every detail with a mild sense of wonder. When she stood as close to him as he had been to her last night, she tilted her face up and watched as her own hands lightly danced over his face. She mapped his strong cheeks and firm jaw, her fingers circling his eyes and sliding along the thick bridge of his nose.

Bulldog seemed content to let her explore. He stood, breathless yet relaxed, as Katheryn allowed her touch and her sight to satisfy the curiosity that had blossomed within her ever since their meeting the night before.

When her hands began to slide down his muscular neck and fanned out over his chest, Katheryn stepped back.

"Thank you," she murmured simply, her eyes darting away a little shyly.

"You're welcome," Bulldog answered just as shyly. How odd this was. The two of them had shared what was unquestionably an intimate erotic experience. Yet now, it was as if they were two children who had been left to play together in the sandbox by their parents.

"Nothing like this has ever happened to me," Katheryn said, attempting to find some way to begin this conversation, although she wasn't fully sure whether she was talking about their encounter last night, the situation she found herself in with The_Monitor, or the sense of crisis she was feeling about what was going to happen to the rest of her life.

"I know," Bulldog agreed, nodding. And his eyes spoke the truth. It tugged at something deep inside her, and suddenly, Katheryn found herself not tongue-tied but unable to stop the questions from rushing out.

"Can you tell me?" she blurted with soft urgency. Her eyes pierced his with fervent need...hope... "Please, Bulldog. You've been through this yourself, and yet you seem like such a good person. Not someone who has been hardened or lost the part of himself that can still care. What was it like for you? I don't know what to think any more. Forty-eight hours ago, I felt like a hostage -- all I could think about was trying to find a way to escape this trap. Yesterday, my one hope was to jump through the right hoops so they'd let me go. But now...I don't know any more. It scares me to think that I've just surrendered...that I might have started to accept...to like...the very thing I hated. How did you deal with it? Is it...is it worth it to you? What did it do to your life?"

 

[BadForm]

Such a question. Such a question. I stepped forward onto the largest of the rocks that jutted out into the lake and knelt on its polished surface. To my side, the ground was covered with chipped shale and rolled pebbles that provided a hard and rough surface. In between, the soft earth granted a gentleness to the harsh earth. Like me, I reflected. Like me then... and now.

I picked up a pebble and tossed it up in the air, catching it in the palm of my hand. It was flat and rounded, its coldness granting solidity to my flowing emotions. I pulled my hand back and tossed it across the lake, skimming it once, twice, three times, four. On the fifth bounce it sank below the surface and left spreading ripples as evidence of its passage.

"Do you remember last night, butterfly?" I asked

"Of course," she said, taken aback at the suggestion she could have forgotten it.

"I loved you well last night."

I turned around and looked at her. She was blushing, but holding her ground as she waited for more of what I would say. I had to give her that, I wasn't so self-assured in my first days.

"I loved you well last night," I repeated, "but I didn't love you like a man."

She opened her mouth to object, but I raised a finger to stop her.

"Men are in control, butterfly. We are powerful, dominant, demanding. It's what we learn, it's what we're taught I used to make love like that. I used to fuck women."

I turned fully to face her then and sat down with an arm across my knees. As memories ran through me of the way I used to live I let my head dip onto my arm and sighed.

"I never enjoyed it, but... that's what I knew. Now think of last night and tell me - even if we'd been permitted to go further, to make love, would it have been fucking?" I shook my head and smiled. "I don't do that any more. The_Monitor taught me that. I'm a servant now. I make love with who I am told, how I am told, and I enjoy it. I enjoy knowing that I can please a woman. It's much better than being in control."

I reached up a hand and she took it, but instead of standing I eased her down to sit beside me. She was so beautiful, so delicate. I suspected she too would be a servant... or perhaps an asset. The difference was both slight and major. A servant was there to be used by whoever The_Monitor chose. An asset was a gift given to one specific agent of The_Monitor. A servant was a person who's duty was to serve. An asset was property of the most respectful and loving of masters and mistresses. Either way, now I'd seen her and had some idea that she had a good amount of money, I realized it could be a difficult transformation.

"I have to tell you, it wasn't easy. Before The_Monitor claimed me, I only talked about my feelings online. I had a blog where I wrote about why I didn't like being a man, taking control, being the aggressor. I had a couple of buddies online who tried to tell me I was wrong, but that wasn't what I was hearing in 'real' life - if you can call it that. I guess one of them was a monitor agent or something and when they checked my writing they must have seen the real me."

I looked deeply into her eyes for a moment, surprised at the depth of emotion I saw there.

"But can you imagine how embarrassing it was to be forced to be submissive, to surrender to the will of strangers... even if secretly you already wanted to? No, butterfly, it wasn't easy... it even ended my marriage..."

I stopped briefly, unsure if I'd said too much then. But I had to finish. "But it was worth it."

 

[Arioso]

"It ended--" Katheryn choked out in distress, but she was unable to finish the sentence. Her gaze snapped from Bulldog's face to the ground.

Ended his marriage!

A sickening, lead weight filled her gut. That was too high a price to pay! How could anyone survive that?

Sensing her anguish, Bulldog gently caressed her back, then reached down to hold her hand. Very significantly, he chose not the hand closest to him, but her left hand. His grip was firm without crushing her fingers, and he pressed against her wedding band.

"I know it sounds painful, and it was, but I'll say it again, butterfly. It was worth it." he repeated.

She looked up at him and tried to purge the anguish and doubt from her tight, pinched expression, but with little success. Katheryn silently cursed the fact that she had a tendency to wear her emotions out in plain sight and wished her face and her body weren't so prone to betray her inner self.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, lifting her free hand to brush her knuckles against his cheek. Bulldog closed his eyes and let a slight smile glimmer on his lips as he leaned into her gentle touch. "I didn't mean to doubt you. It just....hits too close to home. I don't know that I could endure something like what you went through. There are some things I'm too afraid to lose. Even though I can see how you survived it all, and I do believe what you've told me about feeling at peace with who you are."

Bulldog opened his eyes and looked at her with such sympathy and understanding, Katheryn felt almost as if she'd been reunited with a family member or a childhood friend.

They sat together for another hour in the sunlight, talking openly if not always easily. At one point, Katheryn whispered about the depth of her fears -- how it would feel not like having a layer of varnish removed, but like having her entire canvas slashed to pieces with a knife if she were to lose her husband because of what she was doing with The_Monitor.

"At some point," Katheryn confessed, "you look back and realize that half of your life is so entwined with someone else, you can't separate the two out. All of the memories..."

Sighing, Bulldog shifted until he was seated directly facing her and cupped her face in his large, strong palms. "Everyone responds differently to the transformation. All I can tell you is that it will be better for you if you can trust the process. There will be pain, but it will be easier if you can let go. Take it one step at a time, and be honest, with yourself and with The_Monitor."

Eventually, they rose from the ground and said good-bye. Katheryn thanked her new friend -- a man, a near stranger who had been a more understanding and insightful confidant than nearly any long-term friend she'd ever had -- for comforting her and began the walk home. For some reason, he'd asked her to leave first, and given everything he'd done for her she was quite happy to fulfill such a simple request.

For the remainder of the afternoon, Katheryn got ready for Sean's return. There was little tidying to do, since she regularly kept the house clean. But she did some shopping to pick up the things he liked to eat, as well as a few bottles of wine, some candles, and even bought more of the body oil he loved to smell on her skin. Deep down, she knew she was compensating for tremendous guilt and anxiety about where the two of them would be after this weekend. So many changes in such a short time!

Yet she had to hope. She had to hope.

After a light dinner of fruit and cheese, Katheryn relaxed in her living room and spent several hours going through old photo albums. She grinned at the changes in Grace, from photos of her three year-old daughter's smile (minus the front teeth when she'd started losing her baby teeth) as she splashed in their old, plastic, inflatable pool, to the radiant, beaming photo of Grace at high school graduation, her head adorned with a garland of baby's breath and pink roses. But always the same sparkle in her eyes.

And then there were all the photos of Sean...which both summoned a warm glow inside her, and stirred an uneasy knot of self-doubt. So many questions...

At midnight, she sat down at her desk, fired up the computer, and logged on.

butterfly: Good evening. I'm back again.

 

[BadForm]

Bulldog

I stared out over the lake, unseeing, remembering. A veneer? Well, yes. A skin was perhaps another way of looking at it. Imagine, having your whole skin removed from your body over a period of weeks while you were fully awake. It would be agony. It would be something one could barely survive. Yet, if one had a terminal cancer throughout ones entire skin, it might also be necessary. And that was how I saw it. My flesh had been stripped, and replaced with a healthy one. There was no way to explain that to butterfly, however - not without simply making her more afraid. I let her go and waited a while before I turned for home.

That Evening

The response came quickly.

The_Monitor: Who is back?

Another mind game, Katheryn sighed. What was she expected to try to work out this time? But another message appeared before she could grow frustrated.

The_Monitor: Are you Katheryn, or butterfly? Are you the woman frozen behind a shield of puritanical hypocrisy, or the prized possession ready to be claimed by a loving owner?

The_Monitor: No, there is no need to answer. There has not been time yet for you to understand, at the level of your very soul, who butterfly truly is.

The_Monitor: In time you will.

There was a delay as she considered the statement. It was given as a plan fact; not a demand, not a suggestion, not a sign of anger, excitement or frustration; just a plain fact. Despite her own denial.

The_Monitor: I have, of course, spoken to Bulldog.

The_Monitor: He said you were afraid - when you heard that he and his wife, Cheri, divorced you grew afraid of what would happen between you and Sean.

The_Monitor: He will find out, butterfly.

The_Monitor: I will not tell him, that I promise, but he will find out. There will come a time when you are unable to hide the truth from him.

For a moment, what had been said didn't sink in. Only the threat, or rather the statement of basic fact, that her double-life would be discovered struck her. Then, as The_Monitor delayed in saying anything else her eyes were drawn to one phrase.

I will not tell him

If the statement could be believed, and as yet it didn't seem like The_Monitor had actually lied, then the threat of showing the chat log or anything else to Sean had been taken off the table. It would be a form of telling him, wouldn't it? Perhaps the nightmare was finally ending... except... telling Sean was no longer the only, or even the main, threat on the table. The bank balance, the cameras... if Grace was a part of this then they might have any kind of access to her family... but no. Grace would never do anything to harm her. Not her daughter. Not her daughter who... had put her through this to begin with. Katheryn sighed. She would be discovered.

The_Monitor: You may lie to him. You may try to hide. Or you may tell him. Either way, in time, he will discover the truth.

The_Monitor: It may be this weekend.

And the urgency of the words made her suck in a sudden breath. This weekend? Was The_Monitor simply suggesting that she tell Sean, or was it something else? The answer came quickly.

The_Monitor: Sean will be home from Friday - tomorrow - until Tuesday as you know. This has coincides with the first time you must perform a service for The_Monitor.

The ominous words sat on the screen, claiming her like a fly in spider silk.

The_Monitor: butterfly, you have almost completed intake. It is nearly time to pass you to a specific Monitor agent.

The_Monitor: You have revealed an awareness of your sexual nature and with a little more work I will be able to determine who is most readily able to further aid your growth towards transformation.

The_Monitor: In order to do so, you will have to select a service to perform that will demonstrate the type of owner you seek.

A sick feeling grew in her stomach. No longer was she an impassive pawn, she was being forced to aid in her own destruction. She considered rebelling - it held a greater appeal now than ever before. What would happen if she did, though?

The_Monitor: You have demonstrated a number of surrounds to the central theme of ownership.

The_Monitor: The nature of the manor lord and the peasant girl is that of being one of a collection of girls, perhaps at times the most favored, owned by a wealthy magnate. It is the nature of competing, proving yourself, knowing that it could all be taken from you should you fail to please your owner. If this is the essential nature of your desire, then Monitor_Silk is throwing a ball and is short one waitress. You would be flown out to his mansion on Saturday morning, spend the evening serving, and be returned home on Sunday morning.

The_Monitor: The nature of the conflicting lawyers is one of aggression. There may be little physical violence played out within the fantasy, although I note that this was the one you used the only time you ever played out a rape fantasy, but there is little patience, heavy demand and no chance of being anything but owned. If this is the your deepest desire then you should know that Monitor_Green will be returning to the country on Sunday and will need personal service that night. You would be driven to his residence on Sunday, spend the night there and be driven home on Monday morning.

The_Monitor: The nature of the Sultan and the harem girl is one of performance and sharing with others in the same place as you, of seeking to be the best and most admired by not only your owner but others too while at the same time knowing you have equals with whom you may share your feelings and your body. If this is your desire then Monitor_Zoom requires an extra dancer for tomorrow night. You would be taken to his club and would be required to dance there, performing a striptease act alone or in company, waiting on tables, and anything else that would be required of you for that night. You could be returned by seven on Saturday morning.

The_Monitor: Finally, the nature of the pioneer woman and the rancher is the nearest equal of all your fantasies, and also the harshest and most dangerous. It is the reliance on, and ownership by, one person. That person also relies on you, but always, always has the final say. If this is your fantasy then know that Monitor_Sting is about to work an entrapment/punishment scheme. You would be given to him on Monday morning, granted some training and be under his command until the end of the operation. You would be returned by the end of the day, but throughout the day you would be performing at a life-or-death level of danger.

The_Monitor: It is time to choose, butterfly. I will pass your selection on to the appropriate Monitor once you have.

The_Monitor: They will contact you tonight to confirm your selection has been accepted, and that will be the end of our interaction.

 

[Arioso]

Out of her five options, none were appealing.

Rebellion was indeed the most appealing of all. The_Monitor had calmly stated something that Katheryn herself had already begun to suspect: that no matter how diligently she complied with orders, her husband would learn the truth. So why continue with this game at all? It would be simpler to face the consequences of confessing to him and be done with it. He would forgive her or not, but she could end this exhausting charade.

Except that she didn't trust this organization to be scrupulous, not for one minute. What kind of people mentioned, even in passing, that murder or severe bodily injury could be offered as a "reward"?

Yet, to her silent shame, Katheryn also admitted that she had seen another face of The_Monitor. Bulldog's face. She'd even felt some of what Bulldog had promised as the reward for going through the ordeal of transformation. No one else had ever pressed her with such intensity to look deep into her own fantasies and consider what she truly desired. There was no denying that a small part of Katheryn wanted to believe it could happen for her too...

But even if she did hold out hopes that she could end up like Bulldog -- happy, at peace with who he truly was -- wasn't that a selfish disregard for the others involved in her life? In truth, she was being given one choice: betrayal.

Betray her husband. It was simply a question of what form that would take.

When Katheryn considered the four options that had been presented to her, each and every one dismayed her. One was dangerous in the most commonly understood meaning of the word: he'd said life or death. One emphasized competition, and Katheryn recoiled from that at a gut level. How could a 42-year old woman like her, filled with doubts, and not even happy in this arrangement, compete with anyone? One option seemed the mildest, safest of all, even holding out the possibility of friendship with some of the other women in her same situation...but it was at the worst possible time. Sean would return home tomorrow, and that very same evening she would have to leave him. It would make the exact opposite statement of what she wanted to make: she wanted to let him know she'd missed him and was glad to have him back. And then finally, one painted such a cold, combative image...service without patience, with unrelenting demand...it sounded so unforgiving and bleak.

The_Monitor: Give me your choice now, butterfly.

Katheryn's nerves frazzled. She was too flustered, she needed more time, time to think!

But The_Monitor wasn't granting her that luxury. And so, she was forced to make her choice on instinct.

butterfly: Monitor_Sting.

There was a long pause at the other end, which gave Katheryn time to regret her choice. Why had she said that? That was the most dangerous of all! No matter what hold they had over her, it wasn't worth possibly getting killed. And besides...who was she to think she could even do this?

Hastily, Katheryn qualified her statement.

butterfly: Please ask Monitor_Sting if he would be willing to take me for the assignment.

There. Whoever he was, he wasn't likely to jeopardize his own project by taking on an unqualified, incapable, nervous woman.

As Katheryn waited for a response, her pulse throbbing rapidly in her veins and doubts swirling in her mind, she wondered again why it was the most impossible assignment that appealed to her. The others would be safer. And she dreaded what might be involved in an entrapment/punishment operation. She might blacken her own spirit further, if she were used against another person just like her...frightened....trying to resist this sinister organization...

But...what if it were a bad person? Then at least her own discomfort, her own risk, would be doing some good? She would probably never know....her services would be used only for one day...they might never tell her anything about the bigger picture.

Katheryn was convinced she'd made her choice out of sheer panic and disorientation. It was Murphy's Law -- The_Monitor had pressured her for a swift answer without letting her weigh all of the pros and cons, and so of course she'd picked the worst possible one, and the one she was least suited to.

And yet...a small voice in her mind was whispering, but at least I'll feel needed...at least I'll feel like I matter....

It was preposterous. The fact that she would be added to any of those four situations on such short notice, at the last minute, meant that of course she wasn't needed. Someone was needed, and she was available to plug into the gap.

But she wanted to be needed.

As much as Katheryn disliked the idea....she realized what had stuck in her mind when she'd been prodded to make her decision on impulse.

...demonstrate the type of owner you seek...

It didn't stir her deepest passions to envision a future in which she was simply one item in a collection. And she knew herself well enough to realize the pattern she fell into with anyone who had no patience for her: a downward spiral of depression and feeling inadequate. But to be needed...even a little....

She hated being useless. It was what had been missing from her marriage with Sean for quite a long time. He hadn't really seemed to need her...and her kids no longer did....

At last, The_Monitor's reply appeared on the screen---

 

[BadForm]

The response was swift and final.

The_Monitor: Farewell, butterfly. I trust you will not disappoint in your journey to transformation. This will probably be the last you hear of me, unless you earn the right and have the desire to meet me.

Nothing else came through the chat window for a few minutes. Katheryn began to wonder whether she shouldn't just go to bed and wait to be contacted, but as she was about to stand up something else happened. Outlook Express opened and dropped into creating a new profile. It was, unsurprisingly labelled butterfly. A 9-digit password was created to protect it, and an email account was added to point to the monitor.edu servers. Finally, a single email item appeared below the generic Microsoft greeting. It was titled Assignment Details.

A new AIM window trilled into life with a greeting from her new trainer.

Monitor_Sting: Hello, butterfly. I'm Monitor_Sting, an enforcer for the agency. You'll be working with me for a while on some important situations.

Monitor_Sting: I've looked over your details and you should work out well. I don't expect you to have any specific knowledge on enforcement protocols or methods, but you will follow direction.

Monitor_Sting: I've also created a new email account for you on The_Monitor computers, you will use this specifically and only for necessary communication to The_Monitor. Don't print anything out, simply read it.

Monitor_Sting: Your password is asset5798. Remember it. If we think it has been compromised we will change it and I'll let you know.

Monitor_Sting: OK, to begin with, have a look over the first assignment details. I'll stay on a while longer in case you have any questions. Let me know when you're done.

Still quite formal in its nature, the communication had at least suggested Katheryn should "work out well", whatever that meant. She opened the email message and let her eyes skim the details inside.


butterfly,
Our first assignment together is a punishment requested by one of our agents. He lives within the town of Dorton, 50 miles to your south. The agent was going to meet a woman he had started a relationship with - a personal, not Monitor, relationship. He had decided to go to meet her "at work" in Sallion Park, but when he arrived she was not there. He discovered her lying off a path in the park, shivering and bloody with her clothes torn. She had been raped. We have arranged for this woman to receive therapy and treatment of course, but she did not want to go to the police. She worked as a prostitute and knew that they would likely doubt her. She also told us that other prostitutes have been assaulted in the park over the past few nights. None have reported their attacks to the police, for obvious reasons. Therefore, it falls to us to ensure this thug is taken care of.
I have arranged for a few other monitors to come in from other areas, which is why we must delay for a couple of days. These are specialists in applied violence and you will not be required to participate in the punishment. At this point in your training, it may be detrimental to your development to participate in that anyway. However, we require bait. That is where you come in.
We have arranged with the other prostitutes to stay clear of the park, but this thug has a pattern that will not be interrupted after a few days of unfulfilment. Rather, he will return more eagerly - like a pigeon that has been conditioned to expect food on pecking a button will continue to peck even if the food ends. On Monday night, you will dress as a prostitute and wait for him to attempt to take you. As I say, you will be thoroughly protected. You will also be given some small amount of self-defence training and provided with a tazer. You will be safe.
If you think it strange that we are doing things this way after speaking to the prostitutes, you should understand that no two of them give the same account. All we can say is he is probably white, probably blonde, probably muscular and probably about six feet tall.
I understand that you will be afraid. This will work in our favor - as he will expect any prostitute returning to the park to be doing so out of desperation and thus to be afraid they may be attacked. It will make you more convincing to him. Remember: you will be safe, he will not have a chance to badly hurt you before being taken.
As to the arrangements for getting here, Cherired, one of our agents, will arrive outside your house at 6:30 on Monday morning to bring you to my house. She does not know about this entrapment/punishment scheme. She does not need to. I am sending a woman so that you can come up with a less risky lie to tell your husband about why you must leave. You must not, of course, discuss this with anyone. I trust you realize that, secrecy is essential here.

Welcome to the second stage of your transformation,

Monitor_Sting


The email ended. Katheryn took a deep breath. She was going to be bait for a multiple rapist. Nothing in her life could have prepared her for that.

 

[Arioso]

Katheryn was growing used to the sensation of being torn, pulled in two directions. With all of the emotional stress that her situation had placed on her in recent days, hurling her full throttle through guilt and elation, doubt and hope, despair and resignation, it was as if she was developing "sea legs" for the turbulence of her soul.

Monitor_Sting's assignment provoked a cold, gut-wrenching fear, most certainly. Although he assured her that she would be protected, this was every woman's nightmare. Even though Katheryn had indeed played out a rape fantasy online, she knew full well that the reality was no fantasy -- it was a brutal, horrifying, dehumanizing experience. And she would be the bait for a rapist who enjoyed bloodying his victims.

Yet at the same time, a reassuring warmth surged through her breast. This was no burdensome task that she would perform reluctantly. Despite the danger, Katheryn wanted to do this -- and she wanted to succeed. It had been called a service, but as a service it was one she could already feel a commitment toward. She only had to think of Grace walking through a park...

Katheryn shuddered violently and chased the thought from her mind.

Somehow, she'd had the good fortune to land a service that she would gladly perform to the best of her abilities. To remove a predator like this from the public, where he could ruin one life after another? Monitor_Sting wouldn't just have her service; he'd have her allegiance.

And Monitor_Sting spoke to her...with consideration. After the cold indifference of the first Monitor, there was something about his manner that set her at ease.

Katheryn re-read the assignment, wanting to make sure she understood the details before she asked her questions. And questions she did have. He'd given her an odd password -- asset5798; and despite all of her initial reticence, in this case she did want to be an asset.

butterfly: First, Monitor_Sting, I want to thank you for giving me the opportunity to perform this service. I will be honest so you know who you are working with: I was dreading the choice I had to make. But this is honorable and I will do my best for you.

butterfly: Secondly, may I ask if you require me to put together my own outfit? I do not own anything that would be truly convincing as prostitute wear, and I'm also guessing an unsuccessful prostitute -- someone doing poorly enough, as you said, that she would take risks with her own safety. I will be grateful for your recommendations on this; it will help me to do better.

butterfly: And lastly, will you also be able to give me some coaching on how to present myself as a prostitute, in addition to the self-defense on Monday? I have only the stereotyped images from the movies or television. If you could offer me some basic do's and don'ts, that will also help me be believable enough that, hopefully, it will lure the man in so you can deal with him.

butterfly: You are right...I will be afraid. I am already afraid. But I will try to serve you well.

The last line seemed so strange as Katheryn typed it.

It felt natural, and yet not.

She never spoke like that. So where had this deep need to succeed and please this stranger come from?

 

[BadForm]

The reply wasn't exactly comforting, but nevertheless answered some of her questions.

Monitor_Sting: It's not necessary for you to worry about finding a prostitutes outfit. We will take care of that. One of our enforcers will be bringing some of her old working clothes for you. She's about your size, and any difference will appear the mark of poor taste and poverty.

Monitor_Sting: As to training to look like a prostitute, that is unnecessary. The area where the attacks have occurred is known as the P-path, P for prostitute.

Monitor_Sting: It isn't the nicest area of the park. Almost any woman there will be assumed to be a prostitute. If you dress the part, you will be the part.

Monitor_Sting: And butterfly, as long as you follow orders, you will do well.

Monitor_Sting: Now, get some sleep. I will see you on Monday.

As she prepared to stand, there was one more message. When she read it, she wondered if she were being rewarded for compliance, but there was no note as to it being something she'd earned.

Monitor_Sting: Oh, butterfly, from now on, how you sleep is your concern. The camera will be kept live, more so that I can ensure you are ok than anything else, but if you do not wish to sleep naked or above the sheets you no longer have to.

Katheryn shut down her computer system, watching as the colors flickerd to the black gray of a quiet monitor. Sighing, she stood and went to bed.


The Next Morning

Katheryn was awoken by a car horn playing a loud tune in the driveway. She opened her eyes in surprise and was blinded by bright sunshine streaming through her window. She turned her gaze to look at the clock by her bed. How long had she slept? It was 11:30. The last few days had been exhausting, but she never slept this late. The key turned in the front door as she scrambled from the bed.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," Sean's voice called from the front hall. "Still asleep? Or are you waiting up there for me?"

He laughter confirmed it was a tease. He sometimes did that when he got home from a long absence, and in the past it had always seemed a geeky show of loving passion. It had represented how much he missed her. The sound of feet on the stairs told her he was coming up. A minute later he opened the door and stood before her, ruffled from the drive and looking tired, but still smiling.

"I know I'm a little early," he said. "I made great time up the throughway. I even had a chance to stop off and buy you a few gifts."

He held out a dozen roses, a box of chocolates and a gold necklace. That was another thing he always did when he returned home, give her things to prove his love.

"Katheryn," he said, watching her carefully. "Are you all right, you seem... strange."

OOC: As you can see, I left a few fill-in-the-gaps areas should you want to build character more.

 

[Arioso]

"I'm wonderful now that you're here," Katheryn scooted down the bed to where he stood, scrutinizing her as if she'd changed her hair. She beamed with a mixture of relief and happiness.

Everything that had happened in the past few days had drained her, sapped her spirit, and left her doubting everything she'd taken for granted -- including Sean. Now, she felt an insatiable urge to prove to him that she didn't take him for granted at all.

"I missed you, sweetheart," Katheryn confessed fervently.

Utterly naked, she rose up on her knees against his chest, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him, exploring his mouth with such a leisurely, unhurried pleasure that it could have seemed she had nothing on her agenda for the remainder of the weekend. Sean moaned hungrily into her mouth.

When he finally pulled away to look down at her, his eyes burned with lust and delighted curiosity.

"Wow, honey!" he breathed raggedly. "What's gotten into you?"

He still held the flowers, chocolates, and necklace awkwardly in his hands. It sent a rush of feminine pride straight to Katheryn's core to know that she could still leave her husband flustered like that.

Coyly, she arched her eyebrow and teased, "Not you -- yet. It's been too long."

With a playful crook of her finger and a come-hither stare, she began to ease back onto the bed. Sean waggled his eyebrows and began growling in a comical mimicking of a tiger. For the first time in days, Katheryn felt right again. This was so familiar. They loved each other so easily.

In a matter of moments, her husband had shucked off his clothes and climbed into bed with her. Katheryn's squeals of delight as he stalked and then pounced on her soon melted into breathy moans as Sean's hands and mouth sought out all of the usual places that he knew just how to stroke the right way to get her inner fires burning. And normally, Katheryn might have let him carry her away with his talented touch. But this time, she ached to pleasure him until he was mindless, out of control.

She needed to make amends. Even though he didn't know the full truth yet, she needed to atone for betraying him.

Gently, she nudged him until he let her ease down his body until she could wrap her arms around his waist and nuzzle his cock with her cheek. She started by teasing just the fleshy crown with her tongue, circling the ridge around and around. Why not try some of the things she'd read about or done online? The result was magic.

"Jesus, baby...what are you doing?" Sean breathed, his whole body trembling.

It wasn't that she'd never given him head before: she had. But her online explorations had clued her in to techniques she'd never considered and had even persuaded her that her own frame of mind mattered when she set out to suck a cock like she was worshipping it.

Her husband's groans were music to her ears. Katheryn clasped his rigid shaft in the warm, wet circle of her lips and began sliding up and down, bathing his prick with her tongue as she swallowed him deeper and deeper. Sean's moans softened to whimpers of pleasure and he lightly threaded his fingers through her hair, letting her have her way with him.

When he finally erupted in her mouth, he lay prone beneath her as if she'd drawn the very heart of him out through his dick. Eyes squeezed shut, he shivered several times and bucked his hips, until at last he opened his eyes and chuckled weakly, "Wow...what a welcome home!"

Katheryn swallowed the last of his release, then let his cock slip from her mouth and licked her lips. Her smile was nearly bursting with delight. She'd pleased him.

"I think your welcome home will last for a couple of days," Katheryn murmured, snuggling against him.

Sean wrapped his arms around her and rested his forehead against hers. "Mmm...good to be here."

To Katheryn's immense joy, they spent another two hours in bed, making love, laughing, and cuddling. It was balm for every emotional scar she'd acquired in the past three days.

But when they finally roused themselves to get up and take a shower, Sean remarked, "I never would have guessed you'd have the energy for this, honey. When I first saw you, you looked a little worn around the edges, like you do when you can't sleep well. Have you been having migraines again?"

A nervous chill coiled tightly in her gut and Katheryn remained seated on the edge of the bed. Sean, who had already gotten up to head toward their bathroom, paused and looked at her with steady concern. His brow began to furrow and he sat back down beside her. "Katheryn....what's wrong?"

Her heart thudded heavily in her chest, like the beat of drums at an execution. She had to do what was right. She owed it to Sean.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Katheryn whispered so tightly that her voice nearly disappeared. "I have been so lonely without you...and...and...I didn't think it would do any harm...."

Sean's body stiffened slightly, the way it did when he was bracing himself stoically for bad news.

"What happened?" he asked her quietly.

"It just started with a little online reading. Different sites with erotica," Katheryn explained, noting the surprised arch in his eyebrows. "Then....then I....s-started visiting some of the chat rooms and...and....h-having cyber sex."

Weary disappointment began to settle across Sean's face, although he didn't seem angry with her. "Oh, Katheryn...don't you remember what I told you about that online stuff? You can never be fully sure you've got a secure line -- there's so much spyware out there these days."

Katheryn nodded, bowing her head in shame as she wiped a tear away. "I know, honey, I know. It was stupid. And..." she hesitated, wondering exactly how much she should tell. Steeling herself, she drew in a deep breath and added, "I did get burned. Someone started harassing me, threatening to blackmail me by sending you the transcripts of my chat logs."

"Jesus, Katheryn!" Sean barked sharply, his voice tinged with anger, but the kind of anger that she recognized as fear -- for her safety, she hoped.

Nodding vigorously in silent agreement with his judgment, she said, "I know, I know. I got myself into trouble; but it's okay now. The person actually admitted that he wouldn't be sending anything, and I don't think I'll be hearing from him again. And I'm sorry, Sean...I am so sorry. I never meant any harm. It's just....when you're away, I'm so lonely here."

All right, so she was hedging a little, but for the most part what she said was true.

Tentatively, Katheryn raised her teary, mournful eyes toward Sean's, hoping silently for forgiveness. She did not want to confront him about the video feed that The_Monitor had shown her. If he was willing to tell her on his own, then the two of them could talk and, hopefully, it would strengthen them in the end.

If he chose not to tell her....Katheryn dreaded to think what that might mean.

 

[BadForm]

It had been such a welcome home, and so surprising. I prided myself that after all these years, I still had the skills to turn my wife into a passionate animal in the bedroom, but it was normally me who was the aggressor. For her to just... just take me like that was wonderfully unique. And then the shower would add a sensual caring to the beautiful lustfulness we'd just shared. None of the women I slept with away from home could do this to me - they were like methadone for a crack addict, mere substitutes to take the edge off the yearning.

Then she told me. Online porn. Netsex. I thought about all the nights I'd had sex with other women, even last night. I couldn't blame her. And although it struck at an old jealous part of my soul, I'd have to forgive her. As long as she were

safe...

The information that she'd been harrassed, blackmailed, by someone online struck me like a swordblow. I felt as though I'd been physically cleaved in two as I wondered what this person would demand. She though she had gotten rid of him? Was she truly that naive? Even if she'd paid him a lot of money to leave her alone that would only prove there was more where it came from when he needed it.

I took her by the shoulders and gave her a penetrating stare. "Katheryn, we have to go to the police."

"What?" she gasped. "NO! Sean, no we can't..."

I was taken aback. What was she talking about? Of course we could, we had to. There was a predator on the loose who might do anything. I thought of some of the horror stories you heard about the net.

"Katheryn, we have to. This bastard must have hacked your computer or something, he could have found anything out. For all you know he might come round here in person. He could attack you or anything..."

She stared at me, wide-eyed. It was like being the headlight bearing down on a deer.

"Katheryn, I don't care about the porn... or the net sex. Not really. I mean, I love you and I know it's hard when we're apart." Was it guilt? Was that it? Was she ashamed of what she'd done? I decided to open up. "Look, Katheryn, it's ok, really. Look, I'll be honest... sometimes I've well... it's been hard for me too. Lets just say I've had to find ways to relieve myself at times, so I understand. But this bastard could know anything about you. It's not the sex, its the danger."

"But he promised to never contact me again," she repeated. Her voice sounded hollow.

"Jesus Christ, Katheryn! You don't actually believe that do you? If he did it once he'll do it again."

"Sean, please, you're not listening we can't go to the police..."

I clapped a hand to my head in desperation. What could she be thinking? What was going on? Why was she so adamant about not getting help?

"Katheryn, it's not like you did anything actually illegal. And it's not like the papers are going to give a shit about people like you and me. You don't have to worry about anything. We'll be ok, but we have to stop this bastard!"

I stared at her, hoping she would see now what we had to do. I didn't know what else I could say to her, nor why she would be so adamantly protecting someone who, for all she know, could end up killing her. Unless... I looked at her and the conversation played back in my mind. It wasn't so much the words as the tone. There was something she wasn't telling me, something that she was hiding. I let go of her shoulder and stood back. It couldn't be, could it? Was the idea she wouldn't be hearing from him again a lie? Had she told me because she felt guilty and wanted to tell me about something that became more than just an online pursuit? Was she, in fact, seeing someone and she couldn't tell me everything? I didn't want to believe it, but I had to know.

"Katheryn..." I said softly. "What aren't you telling me?"

 

[Arioso]

Why had she chosen honesty? Why couldn't she have just done the simple thing, the easy thing -- why hadn't she lied?

Sean knew her so well. He could read her, as they said, like a book.

But how was she supposed to keep The_Monitor a secret without telling Sean the complete truth?

Katheryn felt her heart eroding inside her. She was keeping secrets from Sean. True, he'd kept a few from her, as she'd just learned. He'd been relieving himself on the road. The video had been true. But he wasn't hiding it now. In spite of everything, he still loved her....and she so dearly loved him, even though the two of them may have fallen in a rut in recent years.

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed for a moment. She couldn't take this. It was inhuman to put someone through this kind of stress!! Who did those people at The_Monitor think they were?!!!

And yet....she knew she would keep the secret. If anything, because the operation on Monday would do some good in the world, she hoped.

When she finally raised her head to look at Sean, it scalded her very soul to see the harsh glare of suspicion in his eyes. She had to tell him something.

"We can't go to the police, because I'm stupid...and weak," Katheryn sighed. "I didn't want to have to tell you all of this, because I'm afraid of what you'll think of me."

"Just tell me, Katheryn. I'm more concerned about your safety," Sean replied stonily. Katheryn cringed. He was still keeping himself distanced from her.

She drew her feet up from the floor and perched on the edge of the bed, hugging her knees to her chest like a frightened child.

"I deleted all the evidence," Katheryn murmured.

"You WHAT?!!!" Sean yelped, his head jerking in disbelief.

Before he could launch into a tirade, Katheryn continued, "Yes, I was that stupid. I was naive and gullible. The guy bullied me into erasing all traces of his communication and said it would be worse for me if I didn't. But the worst part is...he got me to do all of that....because...."

Her lungs ached...she had to stop and breathe....

"...because part of me got off on it," Katheryn finished, already blushing with humiliation. Her story was a patchwork of half-truths and selective witholding, but this last admission was a truth she had only just begun to accept about herself. Telling Sean about it was terrifying -- she'd just admitted to her husband and lover of more than twenty years that she was...well, a pervert.

Sean's eyes widened. Silently, he looked at her as if seeing a stranger.

But to Katheryn's surprise, she also saw that his cock was twitching...not hard, but beginning to swell. Oh my god...was this turning him on?

"So, are you really rid of him?" he asked after several moments, "Or are you maintaining some kind of ongoing relationship with him? Is that why you don't want to go to the police?"

Katheryn shook her head.

"No. I started figuring out he was a fake. It was little clues here and there. What had fooled me originally turned out to be a few good guesses on his part -- he guessed that I had kids but they were gone, and that my husband was on the road a lot. But there were other details he started getting wrong, that slipped out here and there. And he backed down too easily when I refused to do certain things -- a real blackmailer who had any real hold over me wouldn't have caved that easily," Katheryn explained.

She felt herself calming down. Although she was still hiding The_Monitor from her husband, in a way, this painstaking scrutiny of her response to being blackmailed was cathartic. Part of her felt freed to admit, to herself and Sean, that she got aroused when she was being controlled, even against her will.

Especially against her will.

"What sort of things?" Sean asked warily, although Katheryn heard a slight, breathless excitement shading his voice. And the look in his eyes was no longer suspicious so much as...aroused?? "What did he want you to do?"

Katheryn blushed, but felt her nipples hardening as she remembered one of the fantasies she'd played out online, and drew upon that to embellish her story. "First, he started out telling me how to masturbate and play with myself, and demanding that I describe everything to him. That, I did, because it was a small task and because...okay, I admit it, because I enjoyed it. I liked being controlled and having him force me to do something that....lewd. But then he wanted me to buy a web cam so he could watch. And I was too afraid that would mean you'd find out. Not to mention he could bounce the pictures all over the web or even sell them to some porn site. So I told him I couldn't do it. And that was my first clue. It was like he'd lost his nerve...he wimped out...."

It was unmistakable now. Sean was getting hard as he listened to her relate the sordid details of her fantasy as if they were real -- although, they weren't far off from the truth. And his reaction was like heroin for Katheryn. To see the telltale signs of his arousal emerge as she admitted to how she'd been used, how she'd participated in her own degradation and even enjoyed it for a while...god, it was getting her wetter than she'd ever been before. Her clit ached almost unbearably.

"Then what happened?" Sean's voice was a ragged whisper. Their eyes locked. Both of them were caught up in a strange, hypnotic heat.

"I finally decided to test the waters, and just flat out refused to log on for a day or two. When I got back on, there were a lot of angry offline messages, but they were more angry out of desperation. He never carried through on any of his threats to expose me to you -- at least, I'm assuming he didn't. He hurled some pretty nasty names at me, called me a slut and a whore. But then he gave up because I wasn't responding any more. And when I started asking around in one of my chatrooms where I was familiar with people, I learned that I should have just asked my friends in there in the first place. Apparently, he'd been making the rounds and bullying a few other women who had admitted fantasies of control, but everyone agreed that he was a fake," Katheryn finished.

Fantasies of control.

There it was, finally. Out in the open. It had been a secret side of herself that she'd been too embarrassed to share with Sean. Yet, after everything she'd been through in recent days, it was a relief to reveal that to him.

Especially given the way he kept looking at her. Like a man who had just discovered that his familiar old wife was still a little bit sexy.

"So, that's why I don't want to go to the police," Katheryn sighed with an apologetic gaze at Sean. "He was a phony, and there's no trace left of him. Meanwhile, what would come out in any questioning is that I actually have a real fetish for being controlled, for being made to act like a slut. And I can just see how the conversation with the police would go: they'd all be smirking, they'd tell us not to bother them over my kinky turn-ons and then remind me to be careful about my online activity. Which is a lesson I've already learned."

Uncurling from her tight, protective ball, Katheryn rose to her feet and stood before her husband, pressing herself intimately against him. Where their flesh touched, she felt electric tingles. Her swollen nipples dug into his chest like pebbles while his cock, fully erect now, brushed between her thighs.

"I'm sorry, Sean. I didn't know how to tell you any of this. It was too embarrassing, and so I kept it a secret. Please forgive me?" she whispered, tilting her face up to look into the turbulent, swirling dark of his eyes.

 

[BadForm]

What she said made sense. I didn't like the fact that I couldn't do anything about the guy who had harrassed my wife so, but it did make sense. I listened to her words with an increasing calm and focussed on what she was saying. And what she was saying was arousing... but not in a good way, not in a way that boded well for our future. I was imagining being her.

What was it like to have someone take absolute control of you, to force you to do whatever they wanted? I imagined how I'd beg and plead to be left alone, to not have the person on the other end of the net tell my wife what I'd been doing. I imagined realizing there was no way out of this, and I realized she'd been much stronger than I ever could. I would not have stopped. I felt sick.

All my life I'd been in control. I was the head of the house, albeing a loving one. I was high up in big business - the thing that kept me on the road so much. I'd been the aggressor when it came to sex, pursuing and trapping Katheryn and drawing out her passion and pleasure. But that was the point, it wasn't the pursuit, it was her pleasure. It was knowing I could give her pleasure, make her groan. It was the look on her face when I gave her a loving present. It was my daughter becoming a strong woman I could trust to take care of herself. It was knowing I'd raised my son to be so considerate and so... strong. It was knowing I could give pleasure and give up power. Of all the women on the road, only two had excited me. Both of them had come on to me, not vice versa. Both of them had made all the moves. And when I came home and Katheryn had been so aggressive...

Katheryn embraced me, holding me close against her as she begged forgiveness. I felt my cock press against her thighs and realized how erect I'd become just thinking about giving up power, being controlled. The blush didn't so much start on my chest and spread out as race over my body in a second. I pulled away, horrified at my reaction.

"Shit..." The word came out more as a breath than a curse. I stumbled back and collapsed on the edge of the bath.

"Sean?" Katheryn sounded terrified, confused. "I-I'm sorry... I know you must be upset, but I promise you I won't be hearing from this guy again."

I couldn't look at her. The hard pad of my hand was about the only thing I could let my eye rest on right then. I was disgusting to be turned on like that, I mean sure she said she liked to be controlled but she'd fought back. I was realizing that I wouldn't have.

"Sean... it's all right, really."

She lay a hand on my shoulder and I quivered away from her.

"Sean... stop it. I know this sounds bad but it doesn't have to be. I can see you're aroused... I told you, I got rid of him, but I liked being controlled and..."

I had to tell her. I turned too look through tears and a fiery flush into her face.

"And you think I'm thinking about being him!" I croaked. "Yes, I'm turned on... Jeesus I'm turned on... and I'm thinking about being you!"

I buried my face in my hands and tried to stop the tears of shame. What was wrong with me, and what could I do to change what I'd just learned? If she wanted someone to control her and... the thoughts swam in my mind. What I wanted to do right then was run. Run. As far and as fast as possible. Until somehow I left my self behind.

 

[Arioso]

A slight turn of the tumbler.

A soft cascade of glass shards.

And suddenly, the kaleidescope rearranged the pieces of her relationship with her husband in a different way. For a moment, Katheryn was breathless with astonishment.

How long had Sean felt this way?

His words echoed in her mind:

Jesus I'm turned on...and I'm thinking about being you...turned on...thinking about being you...turned on....

Katheryn couldn't fully understand the calm that descended on her. She was making a leap of faith, drawing upon things she'd read about online, roleplayed, discussed with some of her friends from the chat rooms. Part of her was terrified about what she was about to do. It wouldn't work! She had no experience with this -- NONE! Sean would recoil from her pathetic attempt at acting like...

But she had to try. Her life's love had just left himself raw and open to her. He needed something now, needed it with an almost painful despair.

And the two of them needed to heal. Katheryn had no idea what lay in store for her at the hands of The_Monitor, but in this moment, her life was still her own.

With a strength and a calm that surprised her, Katheryn said quietly, "Sean, stop crying and look at me."

The shame and hoplessness in his eyes kindled her inner strength even further. She saw in Sean's eyes everything she had felt when The_Monitor had first trapped her. She understood it, and loving him as she did, she wanted to soothe his anguish. To give him what he needed.

She gripped his chin with her thumb and forefinger, firmly but gently, still holding him with a steady gaze. "Stand up, and follow me to the bed."

Without waiting to see his reaction, Katheryn pivoted on her heel and strode back to their bed. A place where Sean had never failed to fulfill her needs with his skilled lovemaking; now, she hoped to repay him by doing her best to meet this one, deep, hidden need which she'd never even suspected.

It didn't surprise her when Sean settled on the bed, eyeing her with disbelief...wonder...and the shyest hope. Katheryn rose to her knees, planting them wide, and squared her shoulders to press her breasts forward. Her nipples strained eagerly, and she realized that although she was afraid of failing at her first attempt, this was getting her almost as aroused as all of her fantasies of being controlled. It made her feel taller. So vital and alive. Her face glowed with a strange warmth that seemed to radiate out from her eyes.

She gestured for Sean to kneel facing her, and then spoke to him with the same, gentle firmness she'd used to get him to look her in the eye earlier.

"Show me how turned on you are."

Katheryn reached forward and gripped her husband's cock in her palm. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and felt an electric thrill race through her at how forcefully he throbbed against her flesh. "No, do NOT cum yet!" she barked.

Sean's chest shuddered as he drew in a sharp gasp. Katheryn could see his whole body tensing. She let her other hand slide down to cup his balls while she continued to hold his cock in her warm grip.

"This is mine. You've been sharing it with other women, and I understand and forgive you, sweetheart," Katheryn's voice grew louder when she saw Sean's shoulders slump at her matter-of-fact recognition that he, too, had been finding his own outlets for sexual need. "You did it for the same reason I went online. We've both been lonely...and now I see that we've both been hiding our own desires. But this," she squeezed Sean's swollen sac and his cock lightly with her hands, "is mine, because I did this to you. Not any of them -- I got you hard. Your balls are so heavy with cum for me. And now, I want it. You're going to show me how turned on you are, and you are going to give me every drop that your body is just begging to offer me."

Sean groaned, and that deep, primal, strangled sound in his throat made Katheryn's pulse race. Dear god, she hoped she could give Sean what he wanted.

She released his balls, and with her free hand gripped his right hand in hers and guided it toward his cock. He let her wrap his fingers around the engorged shaft. Then she covered his hand with hers and slowly coaxed him to begin stroking.

Cupping her other palm, she held it just in front of the smooth, red crown of Sean's cock. It excited Katheryn to see a thick pearl of pre-cum pooling at his slit.

"You said it turned you on to think of me being forced to masturbate. That you wanted to be me. Then do it. Stroke yourself -- and I am going to touch you if I please while I watch. You will give me every last ounce -- pour all of your passion into my hand, right here. But that isn't all you'll do."

Sean's eyes flared when she alluded to still more, unknown demands, burning even more brightly with lust, as if he wanted to know how much further she would take this. Indeed, Katheryn was wondering this herself.

A feral smile curled her lips. Her heart pounded with a roaring rush of...power? She'd never seen him look at her like this! The glimmer of excitement in Sean's eyes, the tension in his body, the flush in his cheeks...it made her feel like a sex goddess...dear god, it was intoxicating.

"When you have yielded all of your passion to me, you will gather it on your fingers and paint your own seed all over my body. Anoint any part you wish to adore by licking it clean, so you can show me truly exactly how much passion is mine. Show me which parts of me you find beautiful and desirable by massaging those bits of flesh with the sweet, thick desire that rises in you whenever you close your eyes and think of them. You will lick your desire off my flesh until every trace of it is gone and I tell you to stop."

Slowly, Katheryn removed her hand from Sean's and watched as he continued stroking. It was a tremendous gamble. What if she'd pushed him too far? What if he wasn't ready for this -- what if she'd misread him?!!! After all, she'd rebelled and resisted in her heart when The_Monitor had first started making demands. She'd grown to hate that online voice. What if Sean reacted the same way against her?

And what if she was doing this all wrong? She'd read a few things about dominating others, and she knew what she liked herself...but....she didn't really have it in her...did she?

 

[BadForm]

"Sean, stop crying and look at me."

The next few minutes went by as if in a blur. I could hardly focus on what was happening, it seemed so strange and wonderful. My wife had... my wife had disappeared and in her place was a succubus, a demon of demand and debauchery. And I could not help but respond. She led me to the bedroom and made us take up positions facing each other on our knees. She made me begin to masturbate. I followed with a shamed, but excited, determination to meet my duties. It wasn't love or passion, at least, not in the normal way, but the inescapable pleasure of a mental space where all decision-making was eased from my shoulders.

She ordered me to paint her and lick her clean when I came. I gave a start at that. That was wrong, that was... was what? It was the man being dominant wasn't it? It was me deciding to make her dirty, to treat her as if she were a tissue to wipe myself off on, a dinner plate to eat from. It was...

A cold but gentle fire in her eyes kept me moving. No, I realized, I was thinking wrong. I was assuming that, if I submitted to her she shouldn't be telling me to make the decisions and treat her so. That was stupid. The point was, she was telling me. My feelings, my choices, didn't matter. If I felt I was dirtying her, so what? That was my feeling, and my feelings were unimportant.

Unaware of how long I had been working my erection, I came. It was like I hadn't come just an hour or two earlier. It was like I hadn't come in my whole life. The first jet seemed to be hard enough to knock her hand back. The second, the third, the fourth she held steady for. Finally, the last of my seed began to trickled down my own fingers as I gripped my cock hard.

"Paint me, Sean," she reminded.

Squirming inside, I raised my come-dripping knuckles to her face and ran them down her cheeks. I let my fingers, wet with my juices, play along her lips, sighing as she seemed to gasp in delight. Then I dipped my hand into the cup made by hers and scooped up some more of the creamy body paint. But where to use it? There wasn't enough to paint everything, which was what I adored about her. So I had to be selective. I started with the obvious, painting her breasts, her pussy, her stomach. I went back and painted her throat, her hips, her thighs. And that was about all I could gather.

She smiled. "Clean me."

I bend forward and began to attend my task with the eagerness of first, or renewed, love. She met my tongue with her own when I licked her mouth and for seconds we kissed in unity. Then she pushed me onward and I continued over her whole body. I left her pussy to last and lingered there, feeling her wrap her hands in my hair as I licked and nibbled her delicate folds. I could tell with the way she was shaking that her own orgasm was close and I continued until, with a cry that ripped the air, she came too.

"Thank you," she said, her dominant veneer giving way somewhat under the power of an orgasm. She made as if to lift me but I shook my head and reached my hand to her own wetness.

"You said any part I wish to adore... and I have used up my own come."

I scooped out a finger of her juices and urged her to turn around. When she did I eased her forward onto her hands and knees and then ran my finger along the crack of her ass. I seldom did that, and when I bowed my head and began to lick that most sensitive area of her body, I thought she would go insane.

 

[Arioso]

My whole body shivered at the unfamiliar, warm teasing of Sean's tongue against my back entrance. I had always been uncomfortable asking him to do this, yet here he was, offering it freely, and it felt...so...good....

The groan rumbled up from my belly and I was a tigress. I curled my claws into the sheets and savored the delicious tightening in my back and shoulders as my muscles flexed in response to what Sean was doing. He's adoring my ass -- god, I never would have wanted to ask him to do something like that, it was humiliating -- yet it feels incredible!

No more holding back.

I began grinding my hips, letting the pleasure move me, as I felt Sean's tongue wiggle over my tight pucker, circle it coyly, and at times dip inside ever so slightly. That made me scream. To feel his velvety tongue squirming, trapped where I was so snug, drove me wild. I could feel the flush burning my cheeks as I panted heavily and enjoyed everything that Sean was doing for me.

"OH GOD YESSSSSSSSSS!" Tickles so good such wet warm teasing FUCK!

His face was still buried against my fleshy cheeks when I felt a blinding orgasm ripple through me, firing from my core and echoing back from my scalp and my toes in resounding waves. I tossed my head back and let out a sound I don't ever remember making. It could have been a roar.

Something else released inside me. More than an orgasm, although the orgasm seemed to carry it on its crest. Something wild and demanding. Before I realized exactly what I was doing, I'd risen up and swung around to face Sean. His expression was startled, confused, but before he could ask I was pushing him over onto his back. He'd stirred my lust so hard that I felt greedy and insatiable.

Sean fell onto his back with a soft thud and a gasp. An instant later, I was straddling his face with my knees planted on either side of his shoulders. I dug my fingers into his scalp and gripped his hair.

"Bite my clit. Suck it. Bury your face between my legs and devour," I demanded, feeling my arms tremble.

So overwhelming. I felt a little drunk, a little unlike myself, yet also like I'd discovered some part of me, hidden away in a closet. A distant part of my mind worried that Sean would find me...vulgar. That this was too much. But the way he'd been touching me, like he couldn't offer enough, triggered a need in me for more, more, everything he could give until he was spent and quivering.

With a hiss of pleasure as his teeth closed on my tender pearl, I squeezed my eyes shut and began to ride his face, glorying in a wild intensity that would most likely leave me too tired to stand up in the shower later...

 

[BadForm]

Bite? The word was bizarre. Bite her clit? I couldn't do it, but I had to. She was in command, in control, and if this was what she wanted then this was what I'd do. I let my lips draw the delicate bud into my mouth, feeling its tender flesh penetrate me like a tiny penis. And then I let my teeth clamp down, not hard, but I knew it was hurting her. And yet... and yet... she loved it. She rode my mouth like she'd seldom ridden my cock in our whole marriage. This was ecstasy to her and I had the pleasure of giving it to her. I sucked harder, making her cry out loud. I heard what sounded like her hand slapping into her forehead as she lost control again, though with my face buried in her musky snatch I couldn't tell if I was right. And then she came. I'd heard about women who squirt in orgasm before, but I'd never in my whole life experienced it. Certainly not from my wife, my Katheryn. But as I felt a thin, hot burst of fluid splat against my lips I realized with astonishment that had just happened.

We curled up together when we had finished, with my spooning her into my arms. For several hours she slept and I watched her. My mind dwelt on what had happened, what she had said. And I tried to piece together this new world. Her words in the bathroom echoed through my mind, "I actually have a real fetish for being controlled", but she hadn't been controlled in the bedroom - she'd been controlling and she'd been wild. How could the two things be true at the same time? And yet... wasn't that what I had just learned about myself. I loved being in control in the boardroom, and I longed to be controlled in the bedroom. It was confusing but, somehow, so true.

Then I thought about what we had done and what had truly turned her on. It was when I licked her ass, it was when I bit her and caused her pain. She had been in control, but only so much that she could have things done to her, things she had previously thought disgusting, things that hurt, things that forced her beyond what she had previously thought was allowed. Being in control didn't turn her on, not truly. That held the attraction of a gift to the one she loved more than anything. No, it was being taken beyond herself that turned her on.

As the clock wound its way to four, I heard both our stomachs begin to growl. I hadn't eaten since the morning and, if I was right that she had been asleep when I got home, she hadn't eaten all day. I got up and dressed as she slept, then left to pick up a meal for us. I was as quick as I could be and when I got home, she was still sleeping deeply. As she slept, she murmured and I noticed how her hands curved around the more delicate parts of her body as if remembering what had just happened.

"Katheryn," I said, "I've brough us some dinner."

She stirred and gave me a smile. I looked down at her as I lay the food on a couple of plates and handed her one. She was so beautiful, so wonderful, she was my world. Yet, she had just shown me something about myself I could no longer run from and something about herself I couldn't provide. She needed someone to dominate her. Not that freak from online, that was just abuse. No, she needed someone to control her, to take her and wake her to everything she could be. It wasn't me.

"Katheryn," I began, unsteadily. "Beloved... I... we.... have to talk."

She stopped in mid chew and stared at me. Those were never words that boded well. I tried to work out what to say next.

"I can't be what you want..."

The words just came tumbling out. I couldn't believe I'd put it that bluntly but then, what else could I have said? She tried to object.

"No, Sean..."

I turned away from her slightly. I couldn't look her in the eye when I talked about what was running through my head, the change that had just been brought to our marriage, to our selves.

"Katheryn... it's true... you know it. You told me, you showed me, you want... no you NEED someone who will treat you... well, not bad, but make you do things, control you. You need pain and pleasure, you need someone who can think of things like licking your ass and more... you need to be controlled and made to be the amazing, wonderful, sexual woman you just showed me."

I paused, gathering breath so I could force myself to add what I was thinking about myself.

"And I think I need the same. Katheryn, I CAN'T dominate you... not now, and hell with me being on the road so much I doubt I could if I wanted to."

"Sean, what are you saying?"

"I don't know, Katheryn, I just... I love you. I don't want to lose you but you need this. I have to know you're going to have... I guess they'd call it a master or something. I hope you will stay my wife, Katheryn, but you know you need this... and if I do to you know I can't be it. Oh, god, Katheryn, this is such a mess."

 

[Arioso]

The tears came to my eyes like a salve, dimming the pain a little, soothing me as I reluctantly accepted the one truth that had frightened me so much. The_Monitor had already awakened me to the fact that I was slowly treading down a path that was taking me away from Sean.

Now he had compelled me to see that he also needed to begin down his own path.

"You won't lose me, sweetheart," I heard myself whispering, although I felt numb enough that I don't remember moving my lips. "I don't know how to explain it, since things are going to change for both of us...but you won't lose me."

I turned my eyes toward him, and rather than feeling the tears rolling down my cheeks, I knew that I was crying by the look in Sean's eyes. That flare of anguished helplessness he'll get deep in his loving eyes because he hates to see me cry. I shook my head and smiled at him, lightly pressing my fingers to his lips.

"Come take a shower with me. You know I can't eat now, not like this. But I need you to wash all the doubt out of me and massage my shoulders under a pounding shower, or I won't be strong enough to say what we both know needs saying," I said softly.

Wariness and uncertainty grappled within Sean's very frame. I could see his reluctance to deny me; he wanted to see me happy as much as I dearly wanted his happiness. But we were both so afraid. For a moment, I just wanted to hold him, to sit together on our bed, rocking in each other's arms, trying to block out the future.

If this was going to work, though...if I was going to be able to find the right words, I needed him to give me his strength. And I needed him to trust me.

As we stepped into the shower together, Sean adjusted the heat -- perfectly. He's always known just the right temperature, and I marveled now at how well he has always taken care of me.

My hand gently halted his as he reached for my favorite bath sponge. I could feel my voice shake in my throat.

"Sean, while you massage my back, don't worry about what will happen to us. Don't think about that. Instead, picture every time you can remember that you made me smile...that you saw a look in my eyes that radiated pleasure and told anyone who could see me that I was the luckiest woman in the world." I paused, and in my mind I could hear Bulldog's calm, confident words as he tried to explain how he had changed...how he had found his peace. I hoped that they would help Sean find peace, too. "I'm still that woman, Sean -- and you are still the man who makes me realize how lucky I am. So wash my back, please, with that special touch that has always made me feel heavenly, and remember all the times you loved me well."

Sean, bless him, fanned his hands out over my back and caressed me with the sponge as tenderly and soothingly as he'd ever done. I knew we were both crying; I could feel it in how his hands and my body seemed to quiver silently like leaves on a branch in autumn. At the same time, I could feel the stress draining away as I finally began to accept...what I must accept.

Although I could feel the bitter remorse of failure churning in my gut, at the same time it was a relief to admit that I couldn't give Sean everything he needed. I knew I was doing a rather miserable job of trying to play at the Domme, and it was clear that it had been unsatisfying for Sean. It only took a slight nudge to brush my ego aside, and I could accept that. No matter how much I wanted to be able to make my husband happy, I was inadequate for what he truly desired.

We toweled each other off in a sort of reverent silence. I had no way of knowing what was going through his mind, but each time our eyes met, I hoped that he could tell how wonderful and beautiful he looked to me.

I smiled to keep myself from heaving with nausea as I felt my gut plummeting through the floor. I can do this, I can do this...

"Sean, I love you...and now it's time for me to let you go," I forced the words out although they desperately wanted to brace themselves in my throat. I thought my lungs would collapse, they felt so tight. "We won't lose each other. And I still want you to be my husband. But you're right...what we need, we will have to get from different people. And you should realize...if either of us lets someone else take control, really take control, they may have their own plans for us -- plans that don't include a spouse. When you surrender yourself to a Mistress or a Master, to the one who is right for you -- they may not care to have me in the picture."

I brushed my hand across Sean's cheek, to steady my own rebelling heart as much as to comfort him. "But you won't lose me. I've loved you for most of your life and mind, and what I'm saying now is because I love you, not because I want to lose you: you have my blessing to find the person who can fulfill your need to surrender control utterly. You're right -- I'm no good to you for that. There's a part of you that is starving because I just can't feed it. I want you to be a whole person, Sean. As alive as you can be. And I...will do the same. Just remember: you won't lose me, because you have twenty years of memories that we both cherish."

We held each other for what seemed like hours, shivering and naked out of the shower, but basking in all of those little details that I felt like I'd taken for granted and now wanted to burn into my memory. The heat of Sean's skin. The rich, masculine scent of him, just beneath the clean whiff of soap. The way he rested his forehead against mine.

The rest of the weekend seemed to flow swiftly, like a stream carrying me toward turbulent rapids. Please don't let there be rocks! On Sunday afternoon, I invited Sean to sit in front of my computer and introduced him to many of the adult sites I'd spent time on. I suggested he read whatever attracted him, whatever aroused him, and even visit some of the libraries of advice on how to go about finding someone who shared your interests. I blushed when, unsurprisingly, he put two-and-two together and asked me -- not accusingly or unkindly -- if I'd actually been looking. And I told him the truth: yes, I'd started investigating how to look for someone, but had never had the nerve, and had always felt too guilty to even consider meeting anyone for real.

Before I left him at my desk to go out into the yard and tend to my garden, I told him very simply that the folder labeled "butterfly" was mine, and mine alone. Without revealing anything about The_Monitor, I admitted to Sean that it was part of my own self-discovery, and asked him to leave it untouched. I didn't tell him that it was password protected, but trusted him to contain his curiosity -- or simply ask me if he needed to.

The soil felt good between my fingers and for the first time in probably a week, the sunshine melted through me and I enjoyed it freely. For some reason...it was so freeing to return to my ordinary, everyday hobby, one I'd been doing almost throughout our entire marriage. Maybe it was that I needed to reassure myself, and Sean, that life could still go on even when it felt like our hearts had been completely shaken inside out. It put me at ease...and I hoped it would let him know that I accepted what was happening, that he could be inside, surfing websites dedicated to domination, submission, bondage, or anything else that kindled his desire, and I was fine with his exploration.

I couldn't really know what he was thinking.

Well...there was one moment, so intense...

Sean seemed to have spent the rest of the weekend in a slight daze, like he was expecting to wake up, but without ever casting even the slightest look of reproach or hurt toward me. Yet early Monday morning, when I rose to get ready for my first assignment, I told him as much as I could:

That I would be gone for the day, possibly overnight as well.

That it did have to do with my own development...my own need for someone who could control me.

That he couldn't know anything further about it; but that I would be safe.

Silently, I hoped that I wasn't lying to him about that last part...

He didn't argue or make any demands.

But when Cherired pulled up to the driveway and waited for me to come out, Sean pulled me into his arms so fiercely, it left me breathless. He held me tight, as if he could just fold me into his flesh.

When he finally let me go, he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too." My voice shared the same, thick heat and hoarseness as his.

And then I was off to perform my service.

 

[BadForm]

I had to be strong. My world had shattered, the crystal piece of everything I had worked so hard to build dissolved into so much molten, unrecognizable rock. I knew, as soon as she accepted, that I shouldn't have said anything, and it was too late to turn back the clock. No. I wouldn't have done so if I could. Not now I knew. About her. She needed this, despite the tears, despite the reluctance, despite the fear, she needed this. And so I had to be strong.

I'd known since we first met that I would die for her. And, at every level but physically, that was what I was doing.

I washed her. I made conversation. I took with me, into every interaction, the very same mindfulness and self-control, the very same ability to act exactly according to what was expected no matter what I really felt that had ensured I could manipulate people in the boardroom. She had known me for half our lives, but even she never knew just how broken up about this whole thing I was.

I sat by the computer as she went outside, lost in time and memories. I'd let her show me the sites, those wondrous scenes and descriptions of the very things I realized exceited me, and I felt numb. I'd do anything for her, to have her in my life, to have her as my center, but without her, what was the point of anything? Her words circled and turned in my head, twisting their origin into new meanings as I heard the source of her knowledge.

Sean... when you surrender yourself... they may have no place... for you Sean... My Master or Mistress... have their own plans... right for me... when you... go, Sean, my Master or Mistress may have no place for you. It's time for me to let you go.

She'd lied to me. No, I didn't believe she could have lied, that wasn't her way. She simply hadn't been truthful. Not entirely. She said she doubted she would ever hear from the guy who had harrassed her again, but then she also said she'd done some asking around. That kind of question wasn't just general asking around. Those weren't questions that you asked just anyone, not even friends. No, she was still involved, just not with him.

Out in the garden I could swear I could hear her humming our wedding song. I couldn't - her voice wouldn't carry that far - but her happy, loving voice was crystal clear as the tears that rolled down my cheek. The door opened and I forced myself to stop crying, wiping my eyes on my sleeve as quickly as I could and clicking on a random link to make it look like I was eagerly pursuing the bondage and domination sites. She'd known this was an emotional time, so the evident tears didn't disturb her unduly. I smiled and greeted her, forcing myself to stand strong by my decision.

I'd die for her. This was right for her. And if that's what it took, I'd die for her.

Then it was Monday morning. She woke early and I rose with her. She explained that someone would be arriving shortly for something to do with her growth. She said she'd be safe, but could explain no more. She didn't need to. I couldn't speak, wouldn't speak. If I had, I would have begged her not to go and I couldn't do that to her. Not now I knew.

A bright red chevrolet pulled into the driveway, a woman at the steering wheel. I was surprised, shocked even. I'd never thought she may be bisexual, but that was unimportant considering what else I'd found out.

She said she had to go. She turned. I couldn't let her go like that. Not like that. She had to know. She had to know one thing. Whatever else happened after this...

I pulled her into my arms and held her as tightly as I possibly could. It was like I wanted to pull myself inside her, to be her, to be inseparable, never be even a millimeter apart for the rest of my life. In truth, I was investing in her every good feeling and hope I'd ever had. My life was over. She had to know...

"I love you!" I said as we broke apart.

She responded with the same. I smiled, accepting her love for what I was sure would be the last time.


[Cherired]

"So, he knows you've changed?"

Cheri turned to look at Katheryn as the car sped out onto the highway. She was a beautiful woman, 5'8, long black hair, nicely proportioned. She was a little too made up perhaps, her bright red lipstick looking more like that of a stereotypical hooker than anything else. But she turned on Katheryn the most knowing look she'd ever seen.

"Oh don't act all innocent, Bulldog had the same look as you when he first told me. He knew I didn't want a sensitive guy... I like my men a bit more rough... Course, I knew when I saw his e-mail I hadda give him The_Monitor. Even if it did mean we'd end up divorced when he was transformed."

 

[Arioso]

"Yes, he knows," I answered her numbly. "And he's trying so hard to let me pursue whatever will make me happy that he's killing part of himself inside."

Sean had been so quiet, so mild all weekend...the way he'd wiped away his tears any time I'd come near...it was like he was trying to swallow his own heart. Had I done the wrong thing?

"That happens to everyone at first," Cheri acknowledged, neither being overly sympathetic nor overly flippant. She had an ease about her, a sort of matter-of-fact practicality that I found myself envying. "I kicked and fought every inch of the way until I finally figured myself out. How about you?"

She was good. I couldn't stop myself from laughing, and in spite of my worries about Sean, I grinned.

"I think I'm still fighting a little...but maybe one or two steps closer to figuring myself out," I admitted, remembering how it had felt like my whole life was going to be destroyed when The_Monitor had first taken hold.

"Atta girl," Cheri smirked as she easily merged us onto the freeway.

Please don't let Sean give up...please don't let Sean give up...oh god, please let him be okay.... I thought silently, still feeling the guilt tug at me. Why was I so selfish? Why couldn't I just have tried harder to take care of his needs?

Sighing, I tried to make conversation with Cherired -- who, apparently, was none other than Bulldog's lost Cheri.

"So...you were married to Bulldog. He's a very sweet man," I said.

Cheri's confident, brash exterior softened for a moment, but didn't falter. She had the smooth grace of a woman who trusted her decisions. Again, I envied her.

"Yes, he is one of the sweetest there is," she agreed. "I'm glad you enjoyed him."

I nodded and smiled. "I did. Very much. But tell me...you said you gave him The_Monitor?"

"Yes."

"Meaning...you were the one who recommended him for intake?"

"Yes, that was me."

Her voice had that calm, silky edge to it that people usually take when they're trying to coax someone else to figure out the obvious. And in all truth, I'd already gotten the obvious...it was just hard to accept.

"So, you did it because you loved him? Weren't you worried he'd be angry? What if it hadn't worked -- what if he hated you for it?" My questions came out in a rush of heartfelt anxiety.

Again Cheri's expression softened, only this time her face tightened with the strain of what was probably a difficult memory.

"He was angry for a while, and hurt, and his life was hell for the first three weeks or so. But what matters is that he's happy now. He's the person he was meant to be," Cheri explained calmly.

I'm sure she'd already anticipated my next question. But I still hesitated to ask it, because it seemed to fly in the face of everything I'd felt about my own intake. I'd thrashed like a netted fish against the system that had seized me. I'd rebelled at the idea that some anonymous organization could simply take away my autonomy -- my life, my decisions were my own!

But I asked anyway.

Shyly.

"How long...how long did it take until you'd earned the privilege to ask for Bulldog's intake?"

Cheri's smile broadened, and she cast me a sideways, reassuring glance.

"It's different for everyone. But don't worry, everything will work out. Trust me, it usually does," she said.

The rest of our ride went fairly quickly. Thankfully, although not surprisingly, Cheri didn't ask any questions about what I would be doing in Dorton. Instead, we talked about ordinary details -- clothing likes and dislikes, family details (I learned that Cheri and Bulldog had never had kids), and even sexual tastes. It was oddly not that uncomfortable to talk with her about that -- perhaps because she was so casual and forthcoming about herself. Cheri was quite happy to admit that she was strongly bisexual, and I confessed that I had some leanings, although it really did depend on the woman.

"So, would you do me?" she asked brazenly, laughing at the blush that crept to my cheeks.

I laughed as well, but took the time to eye her up and down. She preened a little, which set us both to giggling.

"Truth? Maybe. You definitely have the personality. But you're a little too glamorous. What really does it for me are the quiet, confident tomboys," I answered at last.

Cheri didn't take offense at all.

We made good time, and arrived a little ahead of schedule at the address where I was to meet Monitor_Sting for the first time. Cheri dropped me at the curb, saying she had other things to do, but that she would be contacted whenever it was time to pick me up and take me home. I waved goodbye, then turned with a slight flutter in my stomach to face the brick building that was either Monitor_Sting's residence or where he operated out of. It wasn't a mansion...it looked more like an old warehouse building, the kind that were sometimes converted into expensive loft apartments. It didn't seem too run-down -- no graffiti or broken panes of glass. It was just older, worn, and a little rough around the edges, but very sturdy.

I walked up to what looked like the main entrance and pressed the buzzer. When a voice answered, I introduced myself.

"Hello. I am butterfly. I am here to do a service for Monitor_Sting."

 

[BadForm]

OOC: Ever been half-way through entering a sizeable post and accidentally clicked the close button? *sigh*

IC:

"Come on in, butterfly, we're waiting for you."

The voice was gruff, but not unfriendly. It reminded her of a trained rottweiler she'd once known. The dog was placid and loving as a lapdog for the family that owned it, but when anyone threatened them it was death on legs restrained only by a leash that could be let go at any time. The thought made the breath catch in Katheryn's throat.

She opened the door before her and stepped into what turned out to be a warehouse. Off to her left and against the back wall, stairs and hallways ran off to what looked like offices, but most of the space was just one big room. Overhead, dazzling flourescent lights made up for the lack of windows in the building. Furniture was sparse. A few floor mats, a few chairs here and there, a sizeable collection of exercise equipment and some lockers and wall boxes. Over against the far wall was a group of seven people. One of them stepped forward to greet her. He was a tall man, dark-skinned and muscular. He was wearing a blue shirt and black pants. As he stepped nearer Katheryn realized there were emblems sewn into the shirt - police emblems, a sergeants badge of the Dorton Police District. He smiled as he held out a hand and took hers.

"Monitor_sting. Come on in, butterfly, and meet the others. This is Monitor_Salsa, Jailbait, Sixtyniner, Deeptan, Corderoy and Buckfifty. They'll be the enforcers for tonight."

He introduced them, one by one, and from their accents she could tell they were from all over the country. If she wasn't mistaken, the short, wiry looking woman introduced as Corderoy had a Canadian accent. She tried to work out more about the group just from the short introductions, but it was truly impossible. Some seemed rich, some seemed poor... or at least like they wanted to look like they were still poor... she gave up guessing.

"And this," said Monitor_Sting, "Is butterfly. As you all know, she's new. She hasn't done this before, so we shouldn't expect her to be any more than just bait."

The woman introduced as Jailbait stepped foward. She was Katheryn's heigh and build but was so well dressed and carefully made up she looked more like she should be gracing the folds of a fashion magazine than the inside of a warehouse. She was also, if Katheryn was any judge, over 30. Of course, there was no telling how long she had had the nickname. She raised a carefully manicured hand to Katheryn's cheek and made her meet her eyes.

"Relax sugar," she crooned, the South invading her clipped speech like it was a Yankee stronghold. "Y'all going be jus' fine. Don't you worry about a thing, Jailbait got you covered."

Katheryn said nothing.

"So, Jailbait, you think you can make her look like a prostitute?"

Jailbait turned Katheryn's head this way and that, studying her carefully before letting go. "Sure thing sugar. She already got the look, all she needs is the makeup."

Katheryn was surprised. This woman, so confident, so elegant, so seemingly refined apart from the depth of her accent, had to be the prostitute Monitor_Sting had spoken of. She'd never realized that a prostitute could be so self-controlled before, after all didn't everyone know prostitutes had no self esteem?

The cop, Monitor_Sting, gave Katheryn a bright smile. "Good to have you here, butterfly. Was worried you might be too afraid, but if you made it this far, you can make it all the way. Now, you got any questions before we begin?"

 

[Arioso]

Questions?! I had tons of them. Some, however, I wouldn't ask. It wasn't my business to ask whether it was a problem for a cop to be involved in something that I suspected would involve some illegal violence, although it was going to be delivered to someone who deserved it. However curious I was, that was Monitor_Sting's business. As they said...I was just bait.

He had reassuring, warm eyes.

"I do have a few questions. I'm guessing we'll start with the self-defense before the makeup goes on, yes?" I ventured. Monitor_Sting nodded and his easy smile encouraged me to continue.

"Then, when exactly will it be 'showtime'? How will we all get there? Will we go separately, or all together -- and how do we avoid attracting attention? I know this may sound silly, but how far away will you be from me while I'm waiting for him to, um, hit? Will I just stand there? Or walk around? Will you be able to spot him right away, or is there a chance that I'm going to be approached by a number of different men? If that happens, what do I do? Do I have sex with them--or stay on my watch?"

Monitor_Sting and the others were laughing heartily at me by the time I slowed my rush of questions, and I realized I sounded pretty naive. I was. This was completely out of my league. I grinned sheepishly back at them and tried not to fidget nervously. They were all so confident.

"Darlin', you are just a mess of questions," Jailbait drawled at me, her voice as rich and sweet as gardenia. "But that's okay, it means your brain up there is workin'!"

Several of them offered their encouragement and reassured me that, without question, they would have me surrounded and well protected. I really didn't mean to sound like such a...a timid little mouse, but the thought of being outside in the dark, waiting for a known rapist to attack me was definitely frightening. Monitor_Sting had introduced me as butterfly, but what I felt like was a whole swarm of darting, jittery butterflies. All compressed in a tight, agitated ball in my gut.

Just from the way he carried himself, Monitor_Sting stood out as a leader. He didn't bark orders, he just stepped forward. As he showed me around the place and explained a little more about their setup, Monitor_Sting answered my earlier questions, some of which confirmed what I'd already guessed.

Showtime wouldn't be until dusk. They'd already established that this creep's pattern was to attack after dark. I would take the bus to the park, shadowed by one of the enforcers -- it would make the most sense for a prostitute who had fallen on hard times. It surprised me a little to feel just a brief flicker of warmth between my legs at the thought of riding a bus, with several other passengers, dressed like a hooker. I did my best to shove the fantasy out of my mind. This was no time for me to be getting turned on over a little vicarious exhibitionism, or feeling that little thrill about what some of the men might think when they looked at me. The rest of the team needed me to be focused on the job -- a very serious job. I couldn't let them down, even if I was inexperienced.

I couldn't let down those other women who had been raped by the bastard.

When Monitor_Sting had shown me the entire place and answered my earlier questions, he walked me back to a spacious area where some padded tumbling mats had been set out, the kind you see in gyms. I had a feeling we'd be starting some self-defense lessons soon.

"I'm sorry, I didn't really dress for a workout," I apologized, glancing down at my skin-tight, blue lycra mini dress. I'd been thinking so much about trying to fit into my role as a prostitute that I'd forgotten that for part of the day, I'd probably be better suited in a tee shirt and sweats. "Does Jailbait have some sweats I could borrow?"

"She should," Monitor_Sting answered in a rich, soothing voice. "So, before we begin, do you have any more questions?"

I thought for a moment, wondering what else I might need to know in order not to fail the operation.

"Are there any things that I absolutely should NOT do?" I asked him.

 

[BadForm]

Monitor_Sting

I knew there was another question on her mind, what would happen if a cop were discovered to be involved in something like this. Of course I knew, I'd worn my shirt and pants precisely to lead her mind along that road and, of course, to test her thinking and loyalty. I decided to give her a few hours to consider whether to ask before I provided the answer I knew she sought.

As I showed her the training facility I answered the questions she had asked, monitoring her responses as we went. She was scared, but determined. The way she held herself told me that, despite her fear, she would not run. That made her a promising candidate for further development. Her final question, as we headed back to the training mats, was one I'd been hoping she would have the intelligence to ask.

"Yes, there is one thing you shouldn't do. That's try to take this creep out alone."

She gave a nervous laugh, but I shook my head. "Look, this guy isn't nice. You'll know its him because most probably he will grab you and threaten you. DO NOT fight back. If you do, he will cut you. Don't worry, we'll be right there. You will be safe, as long as you play along. As I say, you will carry a tazer, in case he gets violent faster than we can arrive... but do not use it unless you absolutely have to."

I chuckled as I realized nobody had yet answered her question about sleeping with other punters. "Oh, and no, you don't have to sleep with anyone else. Not right now, anyway - though if that turns you on I can consider it for a reward in future. No, if anyone else comes along, soon as we realize they are just a regular punter, they'll be taken out. Jailbait, Monitor_Salsa, Corderoy... they know how to handle someone who wants sex... and to do it fast."

And then it was time to begin. There wasn't time to teach her a lot, especially since we neither wanted her to fight nor saw any evidence she'd been a fighter in the past. I had Monitor_Salsa demonstrate the various grabs and holds that she might experience, describing each time where the largest threat was, what to watch out for, how to judge pain and fear versus actual danger. Then I showed her the two things she could do should things turn ugly quickly - swiftly sliding a heel down an assailants shin into his foot as a way of inflicting sufficient pain to break a hold and how to slide a tazer from hidden in a dress to strike an assailant. I was impressed. She learned fast.

By 1pm I called a lunch break before I handed her over to Jailbait to be made up properly and taught a little of how to stand and wait - a simple skill few people managed. I led her back to the cafeteria where Sixtyniner had prepared some grilled chicken, seasoned potatoes, herb-roasted vegetables. It often surprised people that the grizzled old man could cook so well, but butterfly didn't react at all other than to thank him. I called her over to join the rest of us at the table.

"You know, I think maybe I got lucky when I got you," I said giving her a wink. "Beautiful and intelligent. We're going to work out well."

Jailbait laughed. "Sure thing sugar, maybe later we'll play a little too. I would love to see more of what you got there."

butterfly blushed and I cast a quieting look at Jailbait.

"Unless she wants to, you can keep those ideas to yourself," I said. "Now, butterfly, you know The_Monitor expects honesty, right?"

She nodded, a nervous look on her face.

"There's a question you've had on your mind all morning. Why haven't you asked it?"

"Question... I think you answered all of my..."

"No, I didn't. You know what I mean, ask it now."

She took a breath and spoke. "You mean, why is a cop doing this? What could happen to you if anyone found out? I thought that was your business."

I looked at her for a few seconds, studying her. So, I was right, she had been wondering, but had realized her position and that I had my own reasons. That was a good sign.

"Sweet. You passed a test you didn't even realize you'd been given. This is my shirt. You COULD find out who I am from this. You COULD report me. You COULD make sure I was investigated. You've just shown me you won't. That is good. Now, to answer your questions, we have our hands tied. The police I mean. There's only so much we can do without good evidence. And even with it, well... some things deserve a little more than time in front of a jail tv. Believe me, we in The_Monitor can protect our own far more effectively than any police district or even the FBI. So, why am I doing this? Someone in The_Monitor needs it done. What could happen if I was found out... I trust you don't even want to try to find out."

Monitor_Salsa cocked her head as she watched butterfly. Then, in her thick, Mexicana accent, said just one thing. "You will be good asset!"