Logged On

[Arioso]

I couldn't help grinning at Monitor_Salsa's compliment. When I'd arrived that morning, I'd felt like a nervous outsider. But as the hours had passed, everyone had made me feel welcome, so it was a nice confirmation for her to say she thought I'd be an asset to their operation. Now all I had to do was remember what they'd all told me, and not let them down.

Before I let Jailbait drag me away for my big make-over, I turned to Monitor_Sting, looked him in the eye and said, "I won't do anything to jeopardize this operation, or your involvement in it. I have no interest in that."

Now why did I rest my hand on his? Was it like the eye contact, just to reassure him I was being serious?...He has nice hands...

It would be putting it mildly to say that Jailbait loved her work.

She approached my metamorphisis into a prostitute like Michelangelo facing the blank ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Of course, I couldn't fend off my curiosity any longer, and I just had to ask her about her name, and whether she really had joined The_Monitor when she was underage.

"Oh no," she laughed in that velvety drawl of hers. "Y'all are jus' seein' the tip of the iceberg with this entrapment. Let's jus' say that I specialize in entrapping men who want to get a l'il too naughty with a lady like me. So -- jailbait. Now, how about you, sweetcakes? It's a pretty l'il name --butterfly."

I smiled thoughtfully as I stripped out of my clothes. "Well, I guess I picked it when I was in a mood...I wanted to find myself again. My kids were off at college, I was alone in the house way too much, and I wanted to...emerge into whatever life I could look forward to after spending twenty years being the mom. Of course, The_Monitor...I mean, the first one that contacted me online...it just said I wanted to be pinned in a case."

Jailbait laughed at that, but I could also see her eyeing me over as I stood in front of her, naked, and waiting for her clothes. She began handing me a few articles of lingerie -- no panties, though. I slipped on a black lace garter belt and then rolled some black fishnet stockings up my legs, hooking each to the garter. Then she gave me one of those Wonderbra things that shoved my tits up and together so much I almost believed I'd had a boob job. Over that, she had me pull on a..well, a tiny tube of emerald green cotton would be the best description, or maybe a sports bra, but no, she called it a tank top. Fine. If she says so. But I'd never worn a tank top that tight, with my breasts nearly spilling out the neckline, and where the bottom of the shirt didn't reach anywhere near my navel.

At least the tiny tank top prepared me for the tiny skirt. It was kind of a flashy bronze metallic color, although I couldn't tell what the fabric was. And it had rhinestones scattered all over it. Okay, if that rapist can't spot me in this, he's a blind man. I couldn't help myself. I started giggling. And then Jailbait started giggling.

"Now hold on, darlin', jus' wait for the piece de resistance," she laughed...and then pulled out a pair of knee-high, patent leather boots with sturdy, three-inch heels.

I gawked at them.

"I decided against the stilettos, since I wouldn't want you to have to worry about doin' a balancin' act on those when he grabs you. But trus' me, hon, you could do some real damage with these babies if you had to," she purred wickedly, giving me a pure Cheshire Cat grin.

When I'd zipped them up, I strutted a little and Jailbait gave me her best hoots and wolf-whistles. Okay, this entire team was good. Really good. She was reassuring me, making me feel sexy and confident about myself...getting me in the right frame of mind for the night's work. I decided to cut loose and wiggled my ass at her before striking an inviting pose.

"Shoot, darlin', I won't need to show you much more, y'all already know howda strut your stuff!" she hollered so encouragingly, I felt a little blush of pride come to my cheeks. But when I caught a glimpse of Monitor_Sting watching us, I felt embarassed. I don't know why his gaze made me feel so shy. Probably, I just didn't want him to think I was too much of a goof-off, especially with such a serious job to do.

Sobering a little, I asked Jailbait if we were ready to get started with makeup. A half hour later, my face was caked with more paint than I'd ever worn before. The face in the mirror didn't look at all like me -- that was some 1950s film noir femme fatale. It was a little cheap and whorish, but then hey -- that was the point. My lips were ripe red, my cheeks slathered with rouge, and my blue eyes offset with a deep, emerald green shadow to match the tank top.

As a finishing touch, I fished through my purse and withdrew a handful of cheap junk rings I'd saved from my college days. I figured that rather than taking off my wedding band, I'd hide it in plain sight. So, I slid a few garish gold rings with fake stones on the fingers of both hands, and voila! I was done.

I was a desperate hooker, flaunting my body for anyone willing to pay me even a cheap price.

Dammit, why was I getting so wet? This was no time to be turned on, there was a job to do! But I couldn't help it. The costume was garish and crude, but it forced me to see my own flesh as nothing but raw sexuality...a hot little piece of ass to be pawed and groped with no respect for who I was as a person. Shiver!

At dusk, Monitor_Sting set the team in motion.

I left without looking behind me, assured that one of them was shadowing me for my safety, but focusing more on slipping into character. It came so easily! My stride was smooth and sensual, and any jitters I felt probably made me look like I was on the low end of my self-confidence. Desperate for a customer -- any customer.

I took the Number 22 bus to Sallion Park, just as I'd been told, and couldn't stop my arousal from building. The wetness simmered between my thighs as I saw how other passengers looked at me. Some of the men looked like they were ready to pull out their wallets then and there. One old woman scowled at me in undisguised contempt -- and even that felt so shamefully good. Without being too obvious, whenever I caught a guy checking me out, I'd follow the path of his eyes and shift my stance just enough to thrust out the part he seemed interested in. I was standing by one of the metal poles that ran floor to ceiling, so a couple of times I even brushed up against it like a stripper might do in one of those clubs.

But I still tried to keep myself in check -- I couldn't get too blatant, or I might just end up with a real customer. And the job in the park took priority over everything -- everything.

At last, the bus arrived at my stop and I stepped down. It didn't take me long to find the path...the path where the other women had been raped. The realization that this was finally it -- I was now in harm's way -- put a slight chill on my excitement.

It wasn't so fun to be a worm on a hook.

However, shoving the fear down my throat, all the way down through my toes so I could stand on it firmly and keep it down, I concentrated on relaxing and striking a casual, available pose...pacing a few steps every now and then...as I waited just on the fringes of the halo of light falling from a lamp post...

Waited...to be attacked..

 

[BadForm]

Monitor_Sting

I saw the bushes to my left move and knew Buckfifty had arrived. He'd been chosen to ride the bus with butterfly, playing on the stereotype that a big black guy dressed down would be poverty stricken. Besides, if anything did happen on the bus, he old gang experience would make him an ideal protector. Now, if he had arrived, that meant... I studied the path and saw her walking out under the light of the two lamps that hadn't been broken yet. She looked as I hoped, nervous, but determined. I checked in with the others over the radio.

"Buckfifty..? No problems?"

"No, boss, everything cool. She's good."

"Ok, call in... positons..."

"Monitor_Salsa, this fountain look clear. Couple in... the embrace... but they leave."

"'Niner here, got her side. Path's clear so far."

"Deeptan, in position and ready."

"Jailbait. Waiting... watching.. nobody out here off the path."

"Corderoy here over Northside. Cle... wait... someone's coming."

"Our guy?"

"Doubt it, this punk looks like he's never done this before. Besides, he's only five six."

"OK, 'Roy, let him get in. Make sure. If he looks safe take him outta the picture."

"You got it."


I saw the guy appear round a bend in the path a couple of seconds later. Her assessment was accurate - if this bumbling little geek ever struck a woman he'd probably be on his knees begging forgiveness. Over by the lights, butterfly turned at the sound and I saw her tense.

"Play it cool," I urged silently. "You'll be fine."

Her features shifted to a forced smile a she pushed her willpower to the limit. If this was the attacker, she was ready. I was proud.

"Ex-excuse me... umm... are you a prostitute...?"

I couldn't blame her for laughing, it was all I could do not to do the same. She pulled herself together well though, and, with a short glance around for support, stepped towards him.

"'Roy..."

"On him."


Corderoy stepped out from between the bushes, her fingers already playing with the buttons of the blouse she'd worn. She let the top one pop as the guy turned unable to believe his eyes.

"Hey there. Just down from Canada, eh? Looking for a good time, eh? You want to help me find one?"

He looked uncertain, puzzled maybe. A beautiful woman asking him for sex was probably the last thing this guy had ever expected to happen. For a moment he didn't move.

"Hey, you don't have to pay me, eh? Not like her?" Corderoy nodded toward butterfly as she gave the guy a wink. "I like the look of you..."

Free sex, from such a confident and gorgeous woman, was all he needed to be persuaded to step away from butterfly. Corderoy took his hand and led him into the trees.

"Found a quiet spot back here, eh." she said, before disappearing with her mark. From what I knew of her, and how he looked, I doubt he'd last more than a minute or two with her before she could send him on his way and return to business.

Beneath the lamps, butterfly steadied herself. The meeting had affected her, though I couldn't tell if she was more amused, shocked, afraid or excited. Whatever it was, she was struggling. I'd expected it, though I hoped it wouldn't happen. In the end, though, it could simply play into the image of someone who'd been afraid to come work the park again. And then I heard it.

"We got movement... it's probably him."

"Where, 'niner?"

"Coming up from the east entrance. Six two, dirty blonde, white... got a slice over his right eye."

"Hold positions. Be ready."

butterfly saw him before I did. Something happened to her, she went... not wooden, but solid, like she'd put her emotions aside to deal with the situation at hand. If she wasn't a submissive, she'd have made a good enforcer in time. She turned slightly to the side, presenting a smaller area of her body for him to attack while at the same time, touching herself in a way that made it look very much like she was trying to turn him on. He growled at her and pulled a knife.

"Got something here for you, you sick bitch!" he called and sped up the last two few steps to grab her.

"MOVE!" I called into the mic.

At once, Monitor_Salsa was on the path behind the guy, too far away to reach him, but not to be seen or heard.

"You like to party, no?" She asked.

He spun at the sound of another woman, looking suddenly confused. It was only a second's delay, but it was enough. A chipped chunk of rock spun from the bushes and truck his temple, making him cry out and reach up in sudden pain. He'd reacted so fast he didn't even remember he was holding a knife. That opened a deep and bloody gash across his forehead. And then he was surrounded.

I stepped up and took hold of butterfly. She was trembling, but it wasn't just fear in her eyes, it was... I didn't want to assume it was lust, but if not it was some kind of hunger. She'd stood right on the edge and looked into the void and as I felt her body sink against my embracing arms I knew she was special. Behind me, hidden from her view by my body, the rapist screamed.

"Nice work," I said, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Now, it's up to you, you want to stay and watch or you want to go back to the training hall?"

 

[Arioso]

My lips won't move, why won't they move...speak...I can speak...I can't speak...

For some reason, my jaw was rattling enough that it took a real effort to answer Monitor_Sting's question. And my tongue was dry, so dry and heavy. Why did I feel dizzy?

"I d-don't th-think I can watch." Words. Get them out. Get them OUT! I swallowed. Better. "But I'm af-f-fraid to go back alone. I'll stay with the g-group, but I don't think I'll watch."

Monitor_Sting nodded and helped me walk off to the side, out of the way, as the rest of the team got ready to deal with the rapist. Keep holding me, just keep holding me. His arms, his chest, they anchored me, and for the moment all I wanted to do was curl up in his embrace and cling. But he had other business to do -- I couldn't be a baby.

"Please leave me by the tree, I'll be okay," I managed to whisper shakily.

He made sure I had a good grip on the trunk before he left me and went to oversee the justice that was going to be delivered to that low-life creep. Slowly, I sank down until I was sitting on the ground. Can't fall over if I'm already down. Good...now I'm out of the way....can let them do their work.

I turned my head aside and focused on the grass. It didn't block out the sickening thud of flesh against flesh, or the stifled screams they must have gagged him, but at least I didn't have to see the blood and I could retreat into my own thoughts.

Adrenaline still burned in my veins. It had all happened so fast -- like falling out of a sixth-story window and hitting the pavement a split second later. My arms and legs were trembling no matter how much I tried to calm myself down. What was wrong with me? Yes, that guy had rushed me with a knife, but he'd barely had his hands on me two seconds before Monitor_Salsa stepped in. They'd all kept their promise -- I'd never really been in danger, so why can't I stop shaking?

No...that's sick...that can't be it....

My fists clenched and I tried to block the suspicion from my mind.

I couldn't have been turned on by the danger.

This was no game. That guy was a real criminal, not some roleplayer indulging me in a fantasy. He hurt people. He'd already hurt several women. I wasn't even HUMAN to him.

But I had felt it.

That slight rush of arousal when he'd charged. God, he was right...I am a sick bitch. I couldn't lie to myself and pretend that my clit hadn't gone painfully stiff when, for just an instant, I'd imagined being forced to the ground and violated, no matter how hard I struggled.

I was sick. Still sitting here, half afraid yet half turned-on, an undeniable heat and ache lingering between my legs.

Silently, I wrapped my arms around myself and concentrated on my breathing. In...and out....deep breaths one after another....this was no time to fall apart. The assignment wasn't fully completed: that would happen when the entire team made it back to the training hall. So I still had to hold myself together for them. I could't be a burden just because it shook me up to discover how twisted my mind was.

It startled me when Monitor_Sting rested his hand on my shoulder to let me know it was time to go. Numbly, I looked up at him and nodded. He helped me to my feet, and I forced myself to concentrate on one mantra with each step I took.

Get back. Get showered. Wait until I'm free to go. Get myself off. Wait until tomorrow to worry about how sick I am.

Get back. Get showered...

 

[BadForm]

Monitor_Sting

I took her back to the training hall in my jag, knowing after what had just happened she would need to be looked after. Yes, she was good - surprisingly so. Whichever of the intake guys had let her come this way had known what he or she was doing, but what she mostly was was new. And I could tell this had taken her beyond. I glanced at her in my mirror as we pulled away and gave her a warm smile.

"You did well," I said quietly. "Really well."

She jumped and seemed, if anything, more nervous. She looked like she was fighting a personal demon that refused to give up and I replayed what had just happened.

"You're sick...?" I mouthed the words more than said them but she still responded with a look of hurt and desperation. "That's what you're responding to right? Him telling you you're sick?"

Her nod was barely perceptible. There was a lot she wasn't saying, though in time she would. Or I'd work it out. Either way, what mattered was she be shown the truth.

"Hurts to be told that, don't it? Well, butterfly, you were told it - you were told it by someone who was trying to kill you. You going to believe someone like that? All you did was help take care of some scum. Don't worry about him. He'll live. He'll probably spend a night in agony before he's able to move again, but he'll live. Corderoy sewed him up real good after we'd... well, you don't need to hear about that. And he won't be going to the cops. Scum like that... they know what would happen if they did."

It was still too early for her to be verbal about what she was going through. That was understandable, and all I could do was hopefully help her explore the things I'd seen others go through in the same place.

"Lots of things happen to people when something like that goes down. Terror, anger, arousal. It's normal. In a place like that, people learn about themselves. Trouble is, they learn lies as much as the truth."

She sat still, but I noticed a muscle at her eye twitch as if something I'd said had gotten through.

"I'll tell you the hardest though, butterfly - it's the victims. You might not have heard but... some women... hell, some men too if it comes down to it... when they get raped, they have an orgasm. You listen to the sick puritans who make up the so-damn-called moral majority and.. they blame the victim. Ain't true. It's a response. You get a rush, adrenalin, serotonin, you name it. I aint into all that medical stuff, but you get a rush and your body aint your own. It don't mean they liked it, it means they survived it any way their bodies could."

She stirred at that, looking like she was trying to struggle with an impossible mathematical problem. In her mind I could see her turning the words this way and that, seeing if they fit. This was subconscious. I hated that she'd been pushed beyond what she could take for a moment, but when she came through she'd be stronger for it.

"Now you got others who get off on pain, on a little fear... when they know its safe. I'll tell you - Jailbait's like that. She's a switch, means she likes it both ways. But if I hear anyone tell me she's sick they can kiss my damn fist. There's nothing wrong with that, and it don't mean she wants to be raped."

The words were out. I knew she'd heard them, but it would take her some time to process them, to make meaning from them. The few reactions she'd shown to my words made me sure I'd found part of the answer - living on the edge, on that tip of danger where you had to know you could be pulled back or you'd die, it excited her. She'd make a good asset for The_Monitor. In time.

Sixtyniner's Olds pulled in to the parking lot ahead of us, he and Buckfifty being the last two to arrive but for us. I pulled in behind and helped butterfly from the car. She followed me into the training hall, apparently starting to come round from being totally lost within herself. I looked round and the others who were celebrating the success of the entrapment scheme and gave them a signal to tone it down.

"You look like you need a shower, butterfly," I said, recalling the chant she'd been repeating earlier. "Jailbait, why don't you help her?"

"Sure thing, Sugar," she said with a cocky grin. "Was thinkin' a washing some of this grime of myself."

With that, I let her lead butterfly off to the shower room. If anyone could help her come to terms with what had happened and what she'd experienced, it was Jailbait. I hadn't told butterfly everything. True, she was a switch and she did like both sides of the Domination/submission scale... but she had another, more relevant, experience. It was one that The_Monitor had spent over a year working with her on overcoming, of understanding, of piecing together and working into a new view of life. At the age of 20, she'd been gangraped.

 

[Arioso]

I wanted to feel better.

I wished I could feel better.

But part of me felt even guiltier -- like Monitor_Sting knew what was bothering me because it was written all over my face. I'd gotten aroused out there.

He was being supportive, as supportive as I could ever have asked for. The problem was just me. I couln't stop cringing at my own reactions, no matter how much he assured me that it was okay. Mentally, I knew he was right. Emotionally?

Sigh.

I couldn't deal with that yet.

So I was grateful when he nudged me toward the showers and let Jailbait take over the "butterfly babysitting". A hint of a weak smile was all I could manage to let him know I appreciated his support -- but at least I could make my lips smile again.

"Thank you," I murmured, and the sound of my own voice made me feel weary. The adrenaline rush was tapering off....I was on the crest right before crashing.

Jailbait must have sensed that. When we got to the bathroom, she sat me down on the closed toilet and just told me to relax while she gently wiped all that thick, caked makeup off my face. A little of the tension started to drain out of me. My skin could breathe again, and the kiss of air across my cheeks as she washed them clean felt so refreshing. Like scraping that creep's slime away.

"The first time can be the hardest," Jailbait acknowledged quietly. "It shakes things up you didn't even know were inside."

I didn't look at her. My head was tilted up, but she was rubbing a cotton ball with cold cream over my eyelids. Still, her understanding remark loosened something inside me.

"I spent all my time worrying about not messing up or letting the team down," I said after a few moments. "But I didn't even think about what the experience might make me feel. I...it...I feel so embarrassed...."

"Don't. Don't feel bad about anything. You did just fine, and trust me, any reaction you had was normal. It was you. And no matter what pathetic little pricks like that might want to make you believe, you are better than they are, not worse, and not down on their level," Jailbait assured me, wiping my face with a towel.

I blinked up at her. My face felt clean....I didn't.

Swallowing, I lowered my eyes. "There was a moment...right before he attacked. When I could feel myself in danger. And," I paused, so painfully ashamed. "And I got turned on."

"So? What's wrong with that?"

My eyes snapped back to hers. Jailbait's swift, matter-of-fact retort had caught me off guard. Somehow, she had such force of conviction herself that her own personal strength seemed to have reached into my head and shaken the guilt loose. I was ready for her to persuade me.

She seemed to understand how weak I was, that I wasn't strong enough to say the words myself. And so she just started talking. Sharing things I couldn't have imagined even in my worst nightmares.

How she had been raped by six guys at a party, who got her alone in one of their rooms, held her down, and took turns raping her again and again. How some of them had been her friends. How humiliated she had felt when they had brought her to orgasm. And how one of them...a guy who had called himself her friend....later used that to pretend that everything was fine, and even asked her out on a date, telling her "since she'd enjoyed it, maybe they could have more fun."

Her story froze me in place. I sat, motionless as a statue, amazed that she could talk about such a devastating experience with such calm self-confidence.

"The_Monitor helped me recover from that by telling me the truth, over and over, until I finally embraced it and started to heal. The truth is: that physical pleasure doesn't mean an experience is good or desired. That just because my body orgasms or wants to orgasm, it doesn't mean that I like what's happening, that I want it, or that anyone has the right to do it to me. And the truth is, there is a big difference between being excited at the idea of being taken by someone you trust, who you know cares about you as a human being...and being abused by bastards who are only thinking of themselves."

I could only nod at her in silence. I still felt small...I still felt uncertain...but the guilt, the shame, were fading away.

"So how about that shower?" she asked brightly, like a coach trying to encourage one of her players to get back on the field. Teasingly, she waggled her eyebrows at me. "Wanna share? Or shall I let y'all have first go at the hot water?"

I blushed and smiled shyly at her. "Do you mind if I shower alone? I don't mean to be a prude, but I'm just--"

"Overwhelmed?" she agreed graciously, still teasing me playfully to put me at ease. "Well, I can't see why. All y'all did tonight was dress up like a whore and lure a psycho-bastard rapist out in the open."

I laughed. A real laugh -- my chest didn't feel tight any more.

"Now that's what I like to hear," Jailbait drawled in her sweet, silky voice. "Y'all have such a pretty laugh. Go on, in the shower with you honey cakes. But I get it next! Once Roy washes that head of hers, the drain'll be clogged with hair."

God she was good! I laughed even harder and felt...free. Finally free of the weight that had been pressing me down.

Free enough that when I stripped down and stepped beneath the warm, pounding spray, I didn't feel guilty about satisfying a need that had been building all evening. It didn't take long. All my nerve endings were so keyed up, so on edge, that after only thirty seconds of massaging and pinching my clit, I came. Hard. And I didn't feel guilty about how damn good it felt, I just relaxed as the release shuddered through me and flooded my mind with peace.

Since I didn't want to hog the hot water, I rinsed off quickly, toweled dry, and then wrapped the white terry bath towel around me. Dripping wet, I padded barefoot out toward the sound of voices, until I found the rest of the team enjoying hearty congratulations and some drinks.

I caught Jailbait's eye and flashed her a huge grin. "Shower's yours, lady. Now tell me where you put my clothes!"

Corduroy let out an indignant yelp. "HEY! No fair! I get dibs next!"

As Jailbait came toward me, she flashed me a grin and squeezed my shoulder. I couldn't help myself. And I didn't care that everyone got a little quiet.

I just wrapped my arms around her and held tight, hugging her and whispering softly, "Thank you."

 

[BadForm]

Monitor_Sting

A good evening. A perfect operation. I headed to my main office for a second just to send a message on to The_Monitor to let them know it was taken care of. They'd send a message back down to the agent who'd asked for this, reassuring him that his reward was granted, possibly even send someone to take photos for him in case he or his girlfriend wanted them. Then I headed back to the main hall and joined the others.

Jailbait and Corduroy were gone with butterfly. That was good. Sometimes a woman needed a woman to make things safe just as sometimes a guy needed a guy. You got used to trusting the opposite gender in The_Monitor, but even then, there were just those times when you wanted someone like you. She'd be ok. And when she came out, she'd know we were proud.

"Hey, boss, what you want?" called Buckfifty from over by one of the larger cabinets.

The locker had been converted to a bar and he was getting out drinks for everyone to celebrate with. I was the last there and the last to be served.

"Just pass me a bud will you?"

He reached down into the ice compartment and pulled out a can. I caught it as it flew across the room, being careful to let my arm slow it rather than stop it suddently. He always was a good shot with thrown objects, as he'd shown an hour or so earlier. I peeled open the tin and sank the sudden froth quickly, coming up as the fizz subsided.

"Nice work out there," I said. "All of you. Almost makes me wish you were back before transformation so I could reward you all."

They laughed. Not that they needed rewards anymore - they were agents now, enforcers to be exact. There were ways of getting pretty much anything they wanted.

"So, what do you think of her?"

Everyone chimed in eagerly, enthusing about the calm acceptance she'd shown despite her fears and how new this all was, praising the way she'd pulled herself together when she'd known he was approaching her. Only Monitor_Salsa had a word of caution.

"Don' take her too fast... she... has needs. She look after them wrong if you go too fast, yes?"

I nodded. "Noted."

She was right, of course. When you found someone who could learn quickly it was all too easy to push them to learn quickly. That could backfire. As I took a deep draught of the beer, I saw butterfly head out of the hallway from the showers, fully dressed again. She looked a little more relaxed, though by now very tired. It wasn't surprising, coming down from the adrenalin rush would hit us all sooner or later.

"Welcome back," I said, holding out my hand to take hers and lead her to a seat. "You did well tonight..."

A few words and murmurs of agreement from the others backed me up. They were quiet but wanted to let her know they were happy with how she'd done.

"...but that's over. Buckfifty's got the bar open if you feel like a drink... Or I can give you a ride back home if you need to leave."

She looked up at me with a strange expression. For a moment, I couldn't tell if she wanted to stay or to leave, whether she was afraid of overstepping the mark or causing offence.

"You want me to go home?" she asked.

I laughed quietly. "No, I don't 'want' you to. We'll be crashing here for the night to give us time to wind down. I'd love for you to stay, but it's up to you. Actually... whatever happens next is up to you now."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Two things, butterfly. First, when I do take you home, it's going to be up to you to contact us again, not the other way round this time. You get to choose when you get in touch with me. It can be an hour after I drop you off, it can be a week from now. It's up to you."

She seemed surprised, as if a prearranged script had suddenly turned into a blank page.

"And second... you did good tonight, real good. You get to choose a reward. You can get your son out of this. I'll send a message to someone in his school to disconnect that camera and send it back to base. Nothing's been done with it, as you were told, but then you'd know he could never be used as a punishment if you do something wrong. Or you can spend a day being taken care of by someone you know in The_Monitor. That means they take you somewhere nice. They're in control, but you get to learn a lot. Course, right now there aren't all that many people you do know. Us here, Bulldog, and a few of your neighbors of course..." I didn't mention littlebear, somehow I didn't think that was her style. "Finally, if you truly want what you first said, we'll leave you alone."

The atmosphere turned serious for a moment. Nobody wanted someone who was moving towards transformation to leave The_Monitor. It just meant they were a lost soul. On the other hand, while blackmail, bribery and corruption were necessary to force someone to overcome their initial resistance if things didn't very rapidly become their choice they would be worthless to the organization.

"You mean...?"

I nodded, hoping against hope she had seen enough to not choose the last one. "Yes, butterfly. If you want, you will be removed from The_Monitor's list. We'll no longer be a part of your life. No threats, no blackmail, no contact... but no support either. That's it, the end. Out of your life. Not littlebear's of course. She may be your daughter, but she is her own person now."

 

[Arioso]

My stomach chose that moment to rumble.

I and everyone else had a good laugh over that, which helped break some of the tension, and I asked Monitor_Sting, "Can I think about it over some food? I guess the operation left me a little--"

"Famished?" Sixtyniner broke in, his time-worn, wizened face stretching into a knowing grin that deepened the crow's feet around his twinkling eyes. "Well it's about time SOMEBODY said somethin'; I was beginnin' to think I was the only one who was hungry. Come on, you can help me rummage through our old kitchen here."

Gratefully, I started to follow him toward the kitchen when Monitor_Sting chuckled, "And what about that drink?"

Hands on my hips, I pivoted and gave him a look. The mildly amused, stern look I'd always used on my kids when they knew they were being ridiculous, and I knew they were being ridiculous, and they knew I knew.

"On an empty stomach? I'll be out like a light in ten minutes. Oh, and I do know that Grace is her own person." I could practically feel the pride flashing in my eyes. "And she's a strong, wonderful person who has made her mother proud more times than you know about."

"Amen, mamacita," Monitor_Salsa chuckled, offering me a wink. I smiled back at her and wondered if she, too, had children somewhere out there.

When I caught up with Sixtyniner, he'd already filled a huge pot with water and was getting ready to boil several pounds of spaghetti. I helped him whip together a nice red sauce, and it was actually comforting to have something familiar to do while I tried to think about everything Monitor_Sting had said.

I could get out.

I could put William out of harm's way.

How on earth had I gotten here?

Just a week ago, I'd thought my life was going to be destroyed. I hated The_Monitor. I would have leaped at the opportunity that Monitor_Sting had just set before me ten minutes ago.

But then...

Then...I'd met Bulldog.

He was a good person.

And I'd learned that Grace herself was a part of The_Monitor.

She was a good person.

And now...tonight...I'd worked closely with an entire team of good people.

My impression of The_Monitor was changing. And so was I.

It felt a little strange to realize all of that while standing in front of a stove, stirring marinara. Such an ordinary situation to be in, but a life-changing moment.

"Butterfly, hon, I can handle the sauce. Why don't you shove some garlic bread in the oven?" Sixty-niner suggested.

I moved onto the next task, still struggling to decide...what I wanted.

Slowly, I accepted the truth, that I didn't want to leave any more. I wasn't a prisoner; I was in.

But how to decide between the other two choices?

Truly, I was so tired and fatigued, so worn out from everything that had thrown my life upside-down, that the one choice that had appealed most when I heard it was being taken care of. I just needed a break. And to have someone take care of me for a day? I wanted that. I was ready.

And yet, I didn't feel I could take it. Shouldn't I be a good mother, and make sure that William was safely out of reach? That he wouldn't be...touched by any of this?

I knew what I wanted, but it didn't feel right taking it.

Then, something Monitor_Sting had said echoed in my mind.

She may be your daughter, but she is her own person now.

The faintest tremor ran through me, like the first cascade of snow that rumbles down a slope, building steadily until it becomes an avalanche.

When Sixtyniner hollered for everyone to "get their asses into the kitchen and serve themselves", I knew what I wanted. It would just be difficult to say.

Monitor_Sting held back, grinning as he let his team fill their bowls first. I drew up beside him and took a deep breath. He'd probably guessed that I'd made up my mind, because he fixed a patient gaze on me and waited.

"My son is his own person, now, too. And I've seen the good that The_Monitor does. I'm in -- freely, I'm in. What I could really use," I paused and then let a bone-deep laugh shake through me. I felt just a hint of moisture at the corner of my eyes. "Is a day of being taken care of. Would...would you? I might have asked Bulldog, but...he doesn't like being in control. You...don't seem to have a problem with it."

I wiped my eyes and sniffled softly. This was hard. Why was it so hard just to ask for someone to take care of me for a day, to take control?

"But, could I call my husband tonight? I just...I just want him to know I'm okay," I added shakily. "And I need to know he's okay, too. He's...I think I hur-...I know I hurt him."

 

[BadForm]

Monitor_Sting

"Your husband? Sure thing. There's a phone up in the office. Should be private enough if you close the door. And as to spending the day with me... I got some sick time coming, I'll happily take the day off to take care of you."

She seemed relieved to have accepted, and I was happy to have had her ask. I always liked to take the new intakes I got round, see how they looked an area over, see if they were observant. I also liked to take a day off after a particularly brutal scheme had played out. They were necessary, and they were damn effective but they still took it out of you. Beating down on scum like that, it reminded you of just how messed up some people were. They were living corpses, not salvageable. And it was our world that did it to them usually.

You learned that in The_Monitor. People have buttons. They got pushed, the result was predictable. And for those who The_Monitor hadn't got to in time... well there was a whole sackload of buttons being pressed with every move they made. I know I'd fought like a dog when they came for me...

"Hey, Monitor_Sting, I said pass the ketchup, eh?"

I blinked and turned toward the voice. Corduroy was looking at me with an expression of concern.

"Kind of quiet there. Something on your mind?"

I shook my head. "No, nothing important. Just thinking. So, how's that hockey team you're running?"

And the meal passed peacefully. Through the pleasant safety of everyday conversation, butterfly seemed to be put more and more at her ease. We were normal, every day people. Well, with one exception I guess. We'd all come to realize it was ok to be who we were. She joined in at one or two points when Jailbait started talking about her kids, offering advice to a younger mother. Some was welcome, some was a difference of opinion. And when you realized that differences of opinion were just that, you didn't have to react to them.

I glanced at the clock and noticed it was heading for 10:30 already.

"You might want to head up and call your husband," I said, pointing towards the office. "It's getting kind of late. There's no internal switchboard, just dial the number."

"Thanks," she said, standing. "I think I will."

She headed up to the office and left us finishing the meal. I kept in on the conversation, but also kept an eye on butterfly up in the office. She'd been in there five minutes when I saw her pick up the phone for the third time and try redialling. She looked worried.

"I'll be back in a bit," I said and headed up the stairs.

"Hey," I said softly as I opened the door. "Something the matter?"

She frowned as she turned to face me with the phone to her ear. "There's no answer."

"Could he have gone to sleep?"

"No. At least, he doesn't normally at this time but, well..." She looked deep into my eyes as if searching for assurance that she wouldn't be in trouble. Whatever she saw there, she decided to open up. "I told him. Not everything, I didn't mention The_Monitor or anything. But I told him that I'd been harrassed by someone on line and that I liked being controlled. We talked and he said he liked the idea too... for him I mean. I even encouraged him to find his truth too. When I said goodbye this morning I told him I was going to do something which was related to my growth."

She paused. I could fill in the gaps myself. She'd actually done well. Everyone either came out or got found out sooner or later. Most confessed sooner under pressure. So she'd told him and he'd told her. She'd assumed he accepted it.

"And now you're worried. Fair enough. Come with me."

I led her to the other main office whose space was largely given over to computer equipment. I sat down in front of the back of monitors and indicated a chair for her to join me. As she sat, I flicked through some of The_Monitor's website and pulled up the camera equipment in her house.

"Lets take a look."

Two screens came on, both showing darkened rooms in which bare shadows were visible under the moon and streetlights. I clicked a button to switch to infrared, again revealing nobody was in the rooms.

"Looks like he left already," I said.

She seemed confused. "But he wasn't due to leave until tomorrow."

I lay a hand on hers. "What you told him was hard to take. Even if he agreed with you, it's a major change..."

"I know."

"Then maybe he took off early to get some air and spend time thinking things over. If you have any other ideas about contacting him, I'm happy to help. Cell phone maybe? Though if he's on the road he might have that turned off. Car phone?"

I waited. Whatever she needed, I'd help her. Her husband was obviously important to her.

 

[Arioso]

My heart was withering, shriveling up, and turning to dust.

He left. Sean left.

Is that what he thought about me this morning? Did he think I was leaving and never coming back?

I swallowed and felt cold, rough gravel churn in my throught.

"Cell phone? Yes...he has a cell phone; I'll try that," I could hear my own, hollow voice saying.

All I could see was a dim blur as my eyes...just...fixed....vacantly...

I dialed Sean's cell; I could have done that in my sleep.

It went instantly to his voice mail. He'd switched it off.

"Hi baby," I whispered, knowing I sounded so falsely cheerful that Sean would realize something was wrong. "It was a pretty long day, but I'm done now, and just wanted to h-hear your v-v-voice." I could feel my whole face turning to liquid and I tried to hold back a sniffle. "I hated to leave you like that this morning. When you hugged me, I didn't want to let go. I was hoping to talk to you, love. Please...please call my cell when you get this, okay?"

My cell phone was downstairs in my purse...with my migraine medication. I'd brought it just in case the stress of being nearly attacked by a rapist brought on one of my skull-splitting migraines. Now...now I hoped I wasn't going to need it because of an empty house...

My hand trembled as I hung up the phone. I didn't know what to do next. Everything felt...blank...numb.

"He doesn't want to talk to me." The words hung in my ears, and it sounded like my voice, but I hadn't even felt myself speak.

A knife was carving my guts out.

I'd thought I was being understanding and supportive, trying to give him space to explore what I just wasn't able to satisfy for him. Oh god, I'd messed up so badly! I'd ruined...oh god, I'd ruined everything! I'd hurt the most loving man in the world.

I didn't even realize I was sobbing until Monitor_Sting grabbed my chin and made me look at him through a watery blur. "Butterfly, answer me. What do you need?"

I shook my head helplessly. "I don't know. I don't know. Oh god, I ruined everything!" Gasping for air in jerky, deep breaths, I buried my face in my hands and lost it. "I w-want to go home. I need to see Sean. But I'm afraid he'll really be g-gone and then...I don't want to be alone...oh god..."

And then...it hit.

The merciless stabbing in my head, so fierce I nearly vomited.

Sometimes, my body had its own way of making my needs suddenly very simple, even if the rest of my life seemed to be a bewildering, confusing array of no-win situations.

"Please...Monitor_Sting...I need my pills...in purse...and some water," I begged in a pitiful, broken whisper. I just wanted to crawl into a hole.

I remember him leaving and returning very quickly with my pills, and with Jailbait. Through the crushing throb in my skull, I was dimly aware of them helping me down the stairs to a room where I could stretch out on a worn leather couch. Then I just closed my eyes and waited...waited for the meds to kick in. Someone was stroking my hair, I don't know who.

But when I finally opened my eyes, Monitor_Sting was sitting in a chair nearby, watching me with concern.

I felt defeated. It seemed like my judgment was always wrong. And I had so sorely misjudged Sean! He'd given me everything. He'd always been so loving. And now, because I couldn't just be grateful for that and accept what he offered, he..didn't want me any more. He'd probably had enough...and why shouldn't he? Someone so special deserved to be appreciated better.

"I can't make him call me," I acknowledged miserably, meeting Monitor_Sting's eyes yet wishing I could just curl up and disappear. "If Sean wants to talk to me, he'll call, but I can't force that. I really did hurt him. And now I have to live with the consequences, no matter how bad." I sighed. "How could I have been so wrong, so stupid?"

Wiping my eyes, I asked, "Is it okay if I stay here tonight? I can't...I don't think I'm strong enough to walk into that house and see that he's really gone."

 

[BadForm]

Monitor_Sting

I'd sent the others off. They all headed out to grab a chair, find one of the few sofas, or simply crash on a mat. I knew Monitor_Salsa and Jailbait were refamiliarising themselves with each other, an old relationship of the kind that sometimes developed in The_Monitor. That left me alone with butterfly. I watched as she left a phone message for her husband, unsurprised at the migraine that was developing. I wondered how things would turn out for him in the end. He was beloved by someone in The_Monitor, should she want it, she could work to gain the right to do almost anything to make sure he was ok. That, however, was for the future.

I nodded when she asked to stay the night, and watched her take the migraine pills. to try to fight the throbbing, nauseating pain that racked her head, neck and body. I didn't stop her, but I had other plans. I dragged a free mat over, urging Sixtyniner back to sleep. I lay it down in front of the couch.

"Butterfly, I want you to take off your top and lie on your belly on the mat."

She looked startled, perhaps wondering how I could suggest something like that when she was facing such tumult.

"Do you trust me? You asked me to take care of you. Well, that's what I'm doing. I won't command it, but if you trust me take the leap. You can leave your pants on, just take off your top and bra."

She waited, so did I. Eventually she stood and stepped over to the mat. She knelt on it and pulled her top over her head before freeing her breasts from the bra. Casting a single, almost warning, glance at me she lay down as asked.

"If you keep taking pills," I said. "You'll grow used to them. They won't be effective. Now, try to relax."

I saw her shoulders sag a little as she tried to comply. She was still so tense, but I could work with her. I stepped over her and knelt with one leg on each side of the small of her back. Slowly I reached forward with my hands and placed them at the sides of her head. For a few seconds, I stroked her hair before I lay the tips of my thumbs at the base of her skull.

"This is going to hurt," I said. "I expect you to take the pain. It will do you good."

She tensed again as I began to press into her flesh very firmly. I could easily envision how much she was wincing under the onslaught of my thumbs. I kept them there for several seconds before pulling away. She gasped.

"W-what happened?" she asked, a suddenly relieved sense of awe in her voice. "It... it drained away. Like water."

"Accupressure," I replied. I let my hands move to her shoulders and began to stroke them lovingly, slowly deepening the pressure until I was kneading them. "And massage."

I continued working my way over and down her back, stroking each line in towards her center, moving away the toxins of the day. As I worked, I attended to accupressure points too, those aimed at draining negative emotions, restoring peace. They were not as sure fire as the migraine one. They were, however, generally enough to help wind down towards a peaceful resolution to a tiring day. I worked in silence, keeping up a steady, soothing motion with my hands alone. Finally, I was done. I stood up and returned to my seat.

"You can get dressed, butterfly. I hope it helped."

 

[Arioso]

I pulled the top over my head, not bothering with the bra since I was only going to sleep anyway. My arms felt liquid and loose as I lifted them up and let the top slide down.

Monitor_Sting had given me the most incredible massage of my life.

I still ached, emotionally, for Sean. But the worry no longer trapped my body in an unforgiving, high-pressure vise.

"Thank you," I murmured as I met Monitor_Sting's gaze. Though my words were simple, they were heartfelt.

"You're welcome," he replied with a genuinely kind smile.

His eyes held mine for several moments, and for some reason I didn't feel I could look away. There just seemed to be a steady, subtle aura of command about him that I responded to. I'd felt it already when he'd prompted me to remove my shirt and bra. Although he'd said it was my choice and that he wouldn't command me....I felt compelled. Maybe because he presented it as what would be best for me, and I felt I could trust his judgment. And when he told me he expected me to take the pain -- that was so different from the way anyone had ever treated me. He wasn't apologizing for causing me pain, the way a nurse or doctor might just before sticking a needle in my vein. Nor did he just tell me to bite down and bear it. He said I expect you to take the pain. And just like that, I felt driven to meet his expectations.

It was strange. He'd treated me differently than anyone ever had before, yet it felt so comfortable. Such a relief to know just what I had to do.

"So, shall I take the couch, or the mat?" I asked him at last. I figured he had his own room somewhere in this vast complex, in which case I could have the couch. But, if not, the mat would be comfortable enough. Although... "Um, do you have any blankets?"

He nodded. "Yes, I do. Do you want to stay on the couch or the mat?" he asked evenly. Something in his eyes hinted at a mild amusement.

"Well...they seem as good a place as any," I answered uncertainly.

"Very well. Then there are some blankets in the tall cupboard in the hall just outside the showers. Come," Monitor_Sting instructed.

I followed him there and accepted the worn, Mexican wool blanket that he pulled from a shelf. After I thanked him, he gestured for me to head back down the corridor. I saw him pause in front of a closed doorway, watching me in bemusement as he rested his hand on the doorknob.

I stopped. My brain was making the connections, and I could feel that he was waiting expectantly for me to say something.

"Oh...you're...staying in there?" the question stumbled awkwardly from my lips.

"Yes, it's my room. I don't mind a couch or the floor once in a while, but since I live here, I prefer to sleep in a bed."

"Oh."

I felt like I was being tested again, and wasn't sure what I was supposed to say. Was he inviting me to stay with him? But what would that involve?

"It's very comfortable," he added. His face was a calm, neutral mask, although his eyes flickered with amusement. Monitor_Sting was definitely studying me.

"I-is...is that one of my options?" I finally ventured very timidly.

"If you like, yes. It would probably be better for keeping the tension out of your muscles than sleeping on the couch. But the choice is yours to make. When I take care of you for a day, I will make many of the decisions. But now, you need to learn how to say what you want or need," he explained patiently.

And now I understood the test. Or, rather, it wasn't a test...just another lesson.

When I thought of it, the bed did sound so much more appealing. I opened my mouth...but closed it almost immediately. Would he expect something if I slept in his bed?

Observant as ever, Monitor_Sting watched my reactions and prodded, "Ask me your question."

"If I sleep in your bed, would you expect me to...um...to...?"

"Sleep with me?" A hint of a grin darted at the corners of his mouth.

"Yes. Would you want me to have sex with you?" I managed to squirm out.

He chuckled. "That's not exactly the right question. Do you want to have sex with me?"

I flushed with embarrassment, but also more than a little heat. He was a rugged, handsome man, and just the mental image of clasping him between my thighs was exciting. But at the same time, I knew I wasn't ready for something like that -- not when I was still so uncertain about Sean.

I swallowed.

"I won't lie and say the idea doesn't excite me," I admitted, knowing he wanted the full truth. "But right now, I don't think I could handle it. I just want to sleep...but I would feel better sleeping beside a warm body."

His face broke into an approving smile.

"Well done, butterfly. You're still learning to say what you mean and to understand your own needs, but you're getting there." Monitor_Sting extended his hand toward me, and without even a though, I clasped my hand in his. "Come inside and sleep next to a warm body."

His room was sparse, like the rest of the building. The walls were rough brick, and aside from the clean, spartan king-sized futon in the center of the room, there were only a few chairs, a dresser, a lamp, and then another door, leading either to a closet or a private bathroom, I wasn't sure.

With matter-of-fact evenness, Monitor_Sting told me, "I sleep in the nude," and began stripping off his clothes. After hesitating for an instant, I did the same. For some reason, I no longer felt self-conscious. He had assured me we would just sleep, and there was something about him that made me feel not so vulnerable about getting naked. Or maybe it was just that he was making me feel comfortable about being vulnerable around him.

Once we were under the covers, he spooned me against his chest.

And in a heartbeat, I was drifting off, feeling relaxed...and safe...and like I somehow belonged with this group....

 

[BadForm]

Monitor_Sting

I held her until she slept and listened to the slow, gentle vibration of her snores. She was a quiet sleeper, not silent, but soothing. And then, I rolled over. I would have liked to have held her all night long, but this was not the time. She was not ready. Lying next to her, at some point, my body would respond in the way that was natural for a man sleeping with a woman who is more beautiful inside than she is out. And with her concerns about her husband, waking up embraced by a man with an erection could be the least soothing experience of all. In time, yes. Now, no.

I let my hand rest on the pillow beneath my face and thought about what to do with her tomorrow - assuming, of course, that was the day she decided on. I wanted to see what she had in her, how observant she was, how flexible. I knew she was submissive, at least in her general character. All that meant, however, was that she would always need a handler. She would not make an enforcer of course, but there were many ways an asset could be used. She liked danger. Entrapment would be good, therefore. The trick was likely to be working out how to help her distinguish between the arousal of being truly in danger and the arousal of sexual submission. And if she could learn how to take the one and transfer it to the other, the buzz she got from danger would make her truly excellent bait for any kind of trap.

I dozed off about a half hour later, but sleep was not going to come readily that night. Her cell phone suddenly started ringing around 3am. I sat up and looked at her as she rolled over and grabbed it urgently. She hit receive and thrust it at her ear.

"Hello... Sean...?"

I could hear the tinny sound of her husband's voice in the silence of the room.

Katheryn... H-hello.

"Sean, what's going on?" she asked, pulling a sheet around herself. "Why didn't you call me?"

Was... thinking...

His voice was slow, slurred slightly I thought. It was a sound cops heard a lot, more among our colleagues at the end of a hard day than the people who we saw on duty. It was the voice of the nearly drunk, not the fully drunk. She could tell.

"Sean... you've been drinking. Are- are you ok?"

Yes... I'm all right. Don't worry.

"Of course I'm worried, Sean. Why did you leave already? You weren't due to leave until tomorrow."

I'm sorry. I... had things to... take care of.

She went rigid. "Things to take care of? Sean, what do you mean? Where are you?"

Hotel...

"SEAN!"

The fear made her angry. I wanted to reach out and hold her, but she needed this time with her husband. I didn't blame her for being afraid for him. It took a moment for him to speak again, and when he did what he said was not going to improve her feelings. It did sound a lot more coherent though, like the resignation letter written at the eye in the storm of panic.

Katheryn. I just want you to know I love you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, you and the kids. I won't stand in the way of your growth.

"SEAN! NO!"

Katheryn, you need this. I won't stand in your way.

"SEAN!"

She repeated the word, with anger, with questioning, with confusion. He'd hung up. Down in the main room people stirred at the sound of her anxious voice. They would leave it to me, though, butterfly was mine.

"What do you want to do?" I chose the words carefully to tell her I had heard.

 

[Arioso]

Oh.

Oh god.

I felt helpless. My stomach, heart, and lungs dropped through the floor with the same panic I'd felt when The_Monitor first contacted me.

Like my life as I'd known it was suddenly over.

Sean don't go...please don't go...

"What do you want to do?" Monitor_Sting asked me quietly. His calm voice reminded me where I was, and although it didn't set me at ease completely, it did help me steady myself enough to think.

"I'm scared, Monitor_Sting. Really scared. I think Sean needs help," I admitted shakily.

I looked at the display of recent calls on my cell phone. My heart sank further. Just as I'd feared; it indicated only Sean's cell phone number. I had been hoping for a little luck, that maybe he'd called me from the hotel, and I could have checked the number to see where he was.

But nothing. I had nothing to go on, yet my instincts were telling me something was deeply wrong. He sounded so different from himself, so final. I was terrified even to think of how that finality, that mournful goodbye in his tone, might be carried out.

"How would you want to help him?" Monitor_Sting asked patiently, although I could hear just a hint of urgency, as if he were prompting me to think clearly and not panic.

He was right. If anything could be done for Sean, it would have to be done quickly. And yet, I was helpless! How could I help him when I couldn't even find--

Somehow, my mind suddenly cleared.

I couldn't find him.

But perhaps The_Monitor could.

I turned a pleading gaze to Monitor_Sting. "Could you find him through The_Monitor, and send someone to..." The words hitched in my throat. I loathed even to say them, but I had to. "To make sure he doesn't kill himself? The_Monitor has all of our financial vitals on file. Sean had to have used a credit card to get his hotel room. I'm sorry, I know I'm still too new to be making demands on The_Monitor like this, but I promise, I'll do every service you want, I'll give you the best I can, if you will help him. Oh god, he sounded like he didn't want to live."

It was so painfully hard to face that. My worst fear -- that in my selfish desire to see where this transformation would take me, I would hurt Sean so deeply that...that my new path in life would take away his.

Yet, I wasn't crying. I felt chilled, numb, my pulse racing and my skin sweating a little. Dimly, I wondered if I was in shock.

Another thought occurred to me suddenly.

I thought of the peculiar way Sean had spoken to me...and wondered if that was how I had sounded to Grace when The_Monitor had ordered me to cut off contact with her.

Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, I added softly, "Or...if Sean has..somehow...been tapped for intake already and told to call me and tell me this, could you tell me? Please? I don't want to interfere with The_Monitor's plans but..." I sniffled and shook, pausing to steady myself "But Sean is like me. He needs to be needed. My fantasy is ownership, and...and I think Sean has some of those needs, too, very deeply. I'm afraid that right now, he feels lost, like there's no one who wants to claim him."

I had no idea how Monitor_Sting would respond to my desperate fears.

And even though I had already seen how kind and level-headed he was, I was still unprepared for his simple answer.

"Wait here, butterfly."

He left with the swift, purposeful stride of a man who had evaluated a situation and knew what to do.

Silently, I began to hope. I prayed to whomever was out there.

Please let Sean be okay.

 

[BadForm]

Monitor_Sting

My eyes pored over the credit card sites and bank accounts. A few things had happened yesterday and I doubted any of them were to do with butterfly. A lawyer had been paid a couple hundred bucks. Airport food had been bought here and at JFK. A restaurant on long island had been paid ninety-some bucks. What sounded like a liquor store had also made a good sized purchase. No hotel bills, but what I was seeing was a list of things that well might not have been put on a business card. He most likely had one of those, and we wouldn't have researched him as thoroughly as the person we were bringing in to the agency. Still, this wasn't the behavior of someone who had definitely going to kill themselves. The lawyer and the liquor were worrying, certainly, but he was still going about what could be assumed to be his business schedule.

I contacted The_Monitor Central to check if he was going through intake. They would most probably have told me if he was since I had care of his wife, but communication snafus did happen from time to time. I was not surprised to hear nobody was even investigating him.

So, he was on Long Island, following a business routine, drunk, having dealt with some legal issue. The drinks tab was a concern - he's spent quite a bit. He had a day to sleep off a major hangover since he had set off a day before he was due, but if he was so depressed then he could drink himself to oblivion in an all too dangerously literal sense. I sent through a vigilance request, tapping into the NY branch to request they put an investigator on him and wire the people we had in the local hospitals to watch for him.

I'd done all I could. I returned to butterfly. She looked up at the sound of my approach and raised her eyebrows in a question her lips couldn't form. I sighed as I took a seat on the bed beside her.

"Ok, let me start with a question, he's on business on Long Island, right?"

She nodded.

"Then he is almost certainly still alive."

The degree of uncertainty didn't make her feel much more confident, but I would not lie to her.

"He went there, so he is still following his plans. He went to a lawyer first though - McMennemie and Sons?" I waited for her to fill in the blanks.

"Our lawyer... does he want a divorce?"

"I don't know, butterfly, I'm sorry. After he went there, he took a plane to Long Island. I can't find a hotel, but that he may have put on his business card just as with the plane trip. One thing I can tell you, he is either depressed or angry or both. He bought a lot of alcohol. He wants to get drunk."

She frowned. "That's not like Sean."

I nodded. "I didn't think it was. That's why I know he is upset. I put a call out for our people in the hospitals round there to watch for him. We have at least a couple of members working in each hospital now, as well as some EMS guys. So, if anything does happen, we will know about it. I've also requested they put an investigator on him to find out where he is. Oh, and no, he isn't going through intake."

"Thank you," she said in a voice as hollow as the inside of a chasm.

"As to you and future services, I know you'll accept, butterfly - it's your nature. However, I need you to hear this: I am not helping you to make you do things for us. That's not how this works. You're part of us now. That means we look after you - and you look after us. In time, you'll earn the right to make actual requests, but even now your safety, and that of those you care about, is our concern."

 

[Arioso]

It wasn't the best news in the world...but it was still a tremendous relief to hear Monitor_Sting explain everything he had set in motion to make sure that Sean didn't hurt himself. I still had fears for Sean. He was a social drinker -- he never drank to get drunk! I still wanted to be able to do something to help pull him out of his despair, especially since it was largely my fault. But, it was such a comfort to know that even though I wasn't in a position to help him yet...The_Monitor was. There were people already being mobilized to look out for him.

"Thank you," I repeated, feeling some life return to me. There were no adequate words to express my gratitude. So, I just turned toward Monitor_Sting and hugged him tightly. He had been so strong when I had really needed it. So calm and methodical about tending to the problem at hand, while I felt my world crumbling.

For a moment, I wanted nothing more than to rest my head against his chest and keep my arms wrapped around him. He let me, and even stroked the back of my head gently, just like my mother used to do when I was young. That was comforting, too.

"You okay now?" he asked quietly. I drew back, looked up at him and nodded. I even mustered a slight smile.

"Thanks for everything you've done, Monitor_Sting," I said. "And even for something as simple as what you just said. I'm trying, but it's hard to shift gears so fast, from being terrified of some anonymous organization that threatened to liquidate our life savings and made scary insinuations about how much access it had to my family members, to being able to believe that the organization would help me just because I needed it...or because someone I loved was in trouble. I guess I haven't quite gotten over the fear that I'm going to be crushed like a tiny bug if I make one wrong step."

Monitor_Sting chuckled wryly at this, but I didn't get the sense he was laughing at me. The warmth in his eyes was sympathetic, and something about the way he looked at me suggested that I wasn't the only one who'd ever had that trouble.

"Don't worry, you'll learn. We'll help you. That's how this works," he assured me. "But first, it's about time we got some sleep."

When we laid down, it felt natural to roll toward him and...well, "cling" sounds so awful, but I did cling. He didn't push me away. In fact, it felt like he was adjusting to however I settled myself alongside him. I sighed and my breath ghosted across his chest. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Are you still up for that today?" he asked, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and vibrating against my cheek.

I nodded, feeling my cheek rub against his skin. "Yes. Sean needs some space, and I know he'll be safe if not okay. The_Monitor is watching. Besides, you've already started."

He chuckled. "Then go to sleep, butterfly." His voice held that same, compelling tone it had when he'd pressed the base of my skull and told me he expected me to take the pain. There was no room for questioning; I knew what I had to do. It was time to sleep.

Sleep didn't last long, but what few hours I got were healing, so I must have slept deeply. There were voices downstairs; it sounded like the others were already awake. Monitor_Sting was no longer in bed. I pulled on the shirt and pants I'd worn the evening before and made my way out toward the kitchen where Sixtyniner and Jailbait were chatting while a pot of coffee brewed.

"Good morning. Can I help with anything?" I asked, wanting to make myself useful again.

 

[BadForm]

"You're sure lookin' better," said Jailbait, rolling a lip back and up into a cocky grin. "A night with one of the Monitors will do that for a girl... Believe me, I know."

Monitor_Salsa walked behind her, carrying a plate of sausage, eggs and toast. She landed a joking slap to the back of Jailbait's head, causing the shorter woman to choke as she spilt a half-cup of coffee down her front.

"Now see, Jailbait," Monitor_Salsa said. "I knew that you are a DIRTY chicita, no?"

"SALSA! Look what ya'll done! My shirt... I coulda burned myself!"

"Ah, you know you would have liked that... or is that only with the wax?"

Jailbait actually blushed. It seemed that, for such a proud and confident woman, there were still some secrets she could be partially embarrassed by. She rallied well.

"Depends on who holds a candle for me..."

Monitor_Salsa just laughed and passed her plate over to Katheryn. "Here, I get another plate. Sting cooks basic food, but good."

As she walked away, Katheryn took a seat at the table and looked back at the other two. "Not eating?"

"Ate all ready," said sixtyniner. "Jailbait and I sleep quick - we were the first up after Monitor_Sting."

He poured a fresh cup of coffee and pushed it over towards where Katheryn sat, passing the sugar, half and half and milk with it.

"Well, welcome to the first day of the rest of your life. Feel a little different today, huh? Last night was rough on, you - the first time always is, though to me it looks like you got a whole lot of other stuff on your mind. Want to talk about it?"

Katheryn seemed to consider her options for a moment, but shook her head and focussed on eating to avoid having to speak.

"Yeah, I thought not. Long as you know - if any of us are around, and any of us can help - all you gotta do is ask."

Monitor_Sting and Monitor_Salsa approached the table holding plates of their own. Monitor_Sting took a seat next to Katheryn and gave her an encouraging look.

"No news. I checked. So far, no news - which means no bad news yet. I wish I could tell you more, butterfly, but for now that's all I got. Now, eat up. It's about time to put a name on the day. Buckfifty and 'Roy have headed out already. The rest of us will be out within the hour."

OOC: Sorry there's not more to this post, AriO. Wanted to get something up for you, but between that stomach bug and catching up on field/college work, I've had a lot on.

 

[Arioso]

I ate the hearty food that Monitor_Sting had prepared and was reminded of what a comfort plain, simple nourishment could be. Sixtyniner had been blunt, but in a sympathetic way, and his comment had been bang on. Last night had drained me in so many ways.

Being here, though, among these people had made it all bearable.

It wasn't that I'd never had friends. Our neighborhood back home was fairly close-knit, and there were several men and women on the block that I considered good friends -- not to mention the parents of children who had gone to school with William and Grace. There was just something about this group that seemed more intense...more dedicated.

With food in my stomach, and a yearning to belong with this team of lively, sincere souls, I felt myself opening up.

"Thank you for checking on Sean, Monitor_Sting," I began when my courage finally found me. "At least he's safe. Hurting...probably angry and confused...but safe."

There was a delicate, polite silence at the table, the kind you can almost feel creating as safe a space as possible to urge you to speak. No one stared at me, but they didn't avoid my gaze, either. Finally, I mustered the nerve to explain a little about where I was, emotionally, with the whole transition.

It was easiest to look at Monitor_Salsa while I spoke, perhaps because she had seemed to understand me so well, even though she'd been quieter than anyone else.

"The day before this assignment, I shared some of what has been happening with my husband. Not anything about The_Monitor directly, but just some of the directions I've been growing. But...I think I shared more than he was ready to hear....and I think it stirred something inside him that scared him, feelings he wasn't prepared to deal with. It's...come between us now..."

Although my voice shook a little, oddly enough it felt less painful to admit everything than it had last night.

Not surprisingly, Monitor_Salsa was the first to respond. She must have sensed that I was turning to her for guidance, for a wise, maternal voice. "It is hard to let go. When the children leave the house, it seem like you are no longer needed, si? It is their time to grow without their mamacita. That does not mean they will never need you again, or that they stop loving the one who loves them so much. You must understand, it is the same with your husband. But you must also remember -- although you want to be strong for him because you love him, sometimes you must see that your own needs are taken care of, or you will be no good for him."

Her words brought a hesitant smile to my lips, as did the gentle stroking of Jailbait's hands on my shoulders. When Monitor_Salsa had been speaking, Jailbait had moved behind me and for a second, I'd wondered if the two of them had exchanged some sort of unspoken message, for they seemed to work as a team to soothe my ragged spirit. Jailbait leaned over my shoulder and brushed her cheek against mine so gently. Her lips caressed my skin as she murmured, "It will be all right. Trust me...what needs to happen will happen; and we'll take care of you."

As if to emphasize that "we" meant both The_Monitor as a powerful system, and the individuals in the room with me now, Jailbait gently nudged her fingers beneath my chin and turned my head to the side. I could feel the kiss coming, soft as a breeze through the window in mid-summer. It felt so natural just to lean into her mouth and part my lips, and for a brief moment, I regretted no having shared the shower with her yesterday. Her warm, sensual lips lingered on mine and her tongue teased mine until I was kissing her with the breathless intensity that only Sean had ever been able to draw out of me. And yet, it didn't feel like I was betraying him...it wasn't crude or raunchy.

The image that flashed through my mind was of wolves in a pack nuzzling and claiming one of their own.

That image grew more powerful as the group slowly broke up after breakfast. No one had made any comments when Jailbait and I had ended our kiss, but there had been many warm, accepting smiles. And when I rose up to wash my dishes, Sixtyniner came over to say good-bye and for several minutes just stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist in a solid embrace. The kisses he placed on my neck and behind my ear welcomed me into the fold, and like Jailbait, he assured me that I would be well cared for.

Monitor_Salsa caught me on my way to the shower, Jailbait standing a few feet behind her. I got the sense that the two of them might be heading off to spend some more time together. However, Monitor_Salsa merely placed her hands on either side of my face and slowly bowed me down so she could kiss me, almost like a blessing, on my forehead.

Then I was left alone with Monitor_Sting, who had held back while the others comforted me in their own way, but now stepped up to "put a name on the day", as he'd called it earlier.

"Go wash up. Jailbait left some of her girly shower stuff here, she thought you might like it," he chuckled with a wry grin. It made me laugh -- I guess men are just doomed to be eternally perplexed by women's delight in exotic, high-priced, designer bath products. "And when you're done, there are some clothes waiting for you on my bed."

He didn't explain where they had come from; I didn't ask. Today I was in Monitor_Sting's hands, by my own choice...and now was as good a time as any for me to start getting used to what that would be like.

Although it would have been tempting to spend a long time in the shower, especially with the almond hair conditioner and jasmine body wash and body oil that Jailbait had left for me, I cleaned up quickly. I took a few extra minutes to shave, since there is nothing more indulgent and sensual for me than feeling smooth and silky all over. But I was out of the bathroom in about twenty minutes and soon standing in Monitor_Sting's bedroom, wrapped in a white towel, admiring the dress laid out for me.

It was an indigo blue, sarong-style dress with a halter top that tied just behind the neck, leaving my back bare. The fabric was light and silky against my skin as I slipped it on, wrapping the body of the dress around me and tying it at my waist. A bra wouldn't have worked with it, so I didn't bother, and I had no clean panties. Since I'd shaved and taken advantage of Jailbait's body oil, my legs were smooth enough not to need stockings. I simply slipped into a pair of sandals and went to look for Monitor_Sting.

He was up in his office, the one with the sophisticated computer equipment, and I imagined he might have been taking care of some business while I showered.

I gave him a shy smile as he gestured for me to come in and join him.

"Feel ready to start the day?" he asked, his voice warm with encouragement.

With a nod, I answered, "Very ready. What's first?"

He chuckled. "You'll see. We're going out. Come on, let me show you to my car."

A few minutes later, I was sitting in the passenger seat of an absolutely stunning, well-maintained 1964 Ford mustang. It was a classic, and it was clear from the clean, leather interior and the perfect black paint job that it had been lovingly, painstakingly nurtured.

The rumble of the engine felt wonderful as we pulled out onto the street -- I loved a powerful engine. And Monitor_Sting seemed to enjoy driving one just as much. Soon he was easing us into traffic, on the way to our first destination.

 

[BadForm]

Monitor_Sting

The day was shaping up to be beautiful. Already the sun was rising over warm strata clouds that painted a Monet across the sky. I jabbed a number into my carphone and called into the station, telling the chief something personal had come up. He argued at first, but as I never took actual time off for sickness, and usually carried over more vacation time than was ever allowed I was generally given a degree of freedom when I did want a day off. Once that was settled, a switched on the cd-player and twisted the volume to a quiet accompaniment to the drive. Momus, the Tender Pervert, breathed his words of challenge to what was viewed as depravity as the road slid beneath the car like a lover's body beneath a caress.

I glanced at butterfly who sat in apparent peace to my right. It was time for her to learn a little more of how we operated, and gained an understanding of some of the things that probably still seemed more than a little strange.

"It's Sting," I said.

"I'm sorry?"

"When we're in public call me Sting. People will take that as just a nickname. I'll call you butterfly, which sounds like the kind of name you'd give a girlfriend - romantic, sweet, soft."

"Ok." Her simple word didn't mask the confusion that crossed her face.

"It probably seems strange to you that we don't just use real names. After all, I know your name and you've seen my police shirt so you could find out mine. Most of us in The_Monitor who work together learn a lot about each others regular identities. So, it probably seems strange to you that we use nicknames. Childish perhaps?"

She seemed stuck between answering and not wanting to offend. I spoke for her.

"You should learn to reply, The_Monitor is built on trust. You won't get into trouble for an honest answer, even if you eventually end up with an owner. We don't allow abusers in the organization. As to nicknames, their purpose is ritual. They mark a separation of relationships in The_Monitor from the rest of the world. They tell you 'here is someone else like you' and remind you of who you are to them."

"But... why do you need them?"

I looked at her again, guaging her thoughts. "Need? Strictly we don't NEED them, but they work. It's like any other ritual. You are a mother of two, butterfly. I know you and your family had rituals. You did some things at certain times or in certain ways. We all do. As I say, they mark boundaries. In our case they mark a boundary between who we pretend to be to the world that still doesn't understand and who we are in ourselves. In time, you'll probably see that."

She sat in silence for a while as we drove, staring out of the window. I had the feeling she wasn't so much studying the countryside or enjoying the drive as that she had something else on her mind.

"Ask," I said.

"Ask what?"

"Your question."

She paused a moment before taking the plunge. "You said 'if I end up with an owner'... what did you mean?"

I lay a hand briefly on her thigh and smiled. "butterfly, I am only the second stage on your journey. You've been through intake, and you're heading for transformation. I'll be there for that, but part of transformation... hell the POINT of transformation is finding out who you are. You're submissive, but what does that mean? Are you a natural slave who needs an owner? That is the most extreme form of submissiveness, a total yielding of the self. Are you an asset, a person who will do best performing duties for an agent of The_Monitor to ensure the organization achieves its goals? There are other forms of submissiveness too, and only through learning about your own responses to situations will you be able to work out who you truly ARE. Then, with that knowledge, you'll be able to determine which possible person or group of people you wish to be submissive to."

"It won't be you?"

I was surprised, and more than a little pleased with her question.

"It happens," I said, "but rarely. Don't get too attached to me right now. That will inhibit your growth. I'll make sure you experience all kinds of things - experience them, grow, and learn about yourself."

She nodded slowly as if letting thoughts and expectations drain from her. "So, what's on for today?"

I pulled into a winding driveway that approached a large and secluded house. Trees surrounding the grounds and house itself provided plenty of cover. In the distance a number of other vehicles were already parked in a small parking lot.

"Time for you to see how some other submissives behave - workers. This is the NorthEast US Spa and Pool. The men and women working here are all paid by The_Monitor, and will be pleased to make you visit here more pleasant than any trip to a beauty clinic you've ever had before."

 

[Arioso]

I blushed as Monitor_Sting explained my situation to me a little more. Even though he was completely at ease, I felt embarassed...like I'd been too eager...or too repressed...or...I couldn't tell what.

But he had started me thinking. What was I? What did I want?

As I walked with him toward the entrance, I admitted, "It feels a little strange to think of all these things. I'm still not even sure what it means to be a...submissive...and now you tell me there are different kinds!" He chuckled at this, but his eyes reassured me that my confusion wasn't a problem. "I do know it felt good to work with your team. I liked helping you all stop someone who was hurting people. I don't...I don't know that I like the idea of being a slave very much...I think I like thinking for myself too much."

Monitor_Sting merely cocked his head to the side and grinned at me, like he knew some sort of secret. I figured that I was trying to sort things out too quickly, which prompted me to quiet down and just focus on where we were at that moment.

And it was...oh my god...like nothing I could have imagined.

The woman who greeted us in the main lobby was completely nude, save for an elegant gold chain around her neck with a single pearl dangling from it.

"Welcome to the spa. I am pearl. How may we be of service today?" she asked.

I could hardly answer. It felt like my throat had tightened up, and I simply gazed at one of the most perfect bodies I'd ever seen. I envied her. Sure, I wasn't bad for a mother of two...but she had the advantages of youth. That, and she seemed so at ease, standing there in nothing but her supple, silky skin.

Thankfully, Monitor_Sting handled the introductions. "Good morning, pearl. I am Monitor_Sting, and this is butterfly. We have an appointment."

The young woman's blue eyes brightened instantly and she replied, "Oh yes, sir, we were expecting you. butterfly, please follow me."

I hesitated, looking uncertainly at Monitor_Sting. He wasn't coming with me?

"Go," he said simply, but the tone of his voice set me in motion. I turned and followed pearl to an elegant dressing room.

"You can leave your clothes here, butterfly. For the rest of your stay here, you won't need them," pearl offered gently.

She wasn't pressuring me, but I understood that this was expected. I wondered if this was a test or not: could I handle being naked around other people. I felt a little awkward and self-conscious, but it finally dawned on me that this would be just like being at a nude beach. If everyone else was nude, I'd actually stick out like a sore thumb if I insisted on covering up.

So I stripped down and followed pearl through an open, arched walkway that bordered a serene koi pond, and into a white room with a masseuse's table in the center and a nearby armoire stocked with fluffy white towels and various bottles of oils and lotions.

"Please, lie face down," pearl invited, gesturing toward the table. "I will begin your massage, until panda arrives to give you the deep-muscle treatment."

Pearl draped a warm cloth over my body, shifting it aside as she moved from one area to another. The blanketing warmth and the sensual touch of her hands soon had me more relaxed and pliant than I'd ever felt. Dimly, I was aware of her fingers stroking me between my thighs, and the blossoming pleasure she drew out of me, but all I could do was moan as my mind drifted on a cloud.

It took me a while to realize when she had left the room, but no sooner had I figured this out than a burly, round-faced, bear of a man entered the room. He, too, was fully nude save for a gold chain around his neck, only instead of a pearl, a gold panda-shaped charm dangled from it.

"Hello, butterfly. I am panda, and I'm here to introduce you to deep-muscle massage. Have you ever had one before?"

When I answered that I hadn't, he smiled sympathetically. "Then this may hurt. However, if you can take the pain, afterward you'll be rewarded by a kind of pleasure that can't be achieved any other way...and your body will be the better for it."

He wasn't kidding.

Within a few minutes, I was gritting my teeth and straining to hold back yelps of pain as his strong fingers dug deeply into my calves...and it literally felt like he was pulling the muscle away from the bone and realigning it.

"Gaahhhhh," I grunted, my entire body tense.

"Relax....just relax...that's it...good girl....you're doing fine, butterfly," panda coaxed me.

When he stopped working on my calf...I discovered that he also wasn't kidding about the pleasure. Everywhere that he had manipulated suddenly felt light, like my leg was floating off the table...and years younger.

"Ohhh god!" I groaned, and to my surprise felt a thick, syrupy wetness between my legs.

panda chuckled. "Intense, isn't it?"

"Mmmm hmmmmm," I agreed wholeheartedly, now fully willing to undergo whatever tortures he was going to put my other muscles through, so long as I got to feel this blissful lightness afterward.

I wondered if Monitor_Sting was being treated to something equally wonderful and indulgent, wherever he was.