The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Don’t freak out. But, there’s something we need to do. Now.”

“What’s up, buttercup?”

“Something happened this week that you don’t remember.”

“Whaddaya mean, jellybean?”

“Stop being so cute!“

Allison didn’t stop being cute, but her face did become serious.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Celia said.

“I don’t think I want to sit down. You’re scaring me. Tell me.”

“I can’t tell you, I have to show you. Close your eyes.”

Allison pulled away.

“You never ask me to close my eyes. You don’t need to.” You always just make them close. “What’s going on?”

“Ok, then.” Celia took her by the shoulders.

Allison’s eyes opened.

“You there?” Celia said. “Are—”

Allison slapped her.

“I deserved that. I—”

Allison slapped her.

She covered her mouth with her hand and turned away. Celia touched her arm. She spun, hand raised. Celia closed her eyes and waited for the blow to land. It didn’t. She opened them. Allison was gathering her things.

“Where are you going?”

Allison shoved random things into a backpack, not really paying attention to what they were: a hairbrush, a book, a sandal, her spaghetti tank top.

“Don’t go. Please. Let me explain.”

“You made me think I thought things that I didn’t think, to cover up the fact that you made me do something I didn’t want to do. What is it you wanted to explain?”

Celia was silent.

“I always knew you could. But I always thought that if you did, it would be, I dunno, a matter of national security or something.”

It was a matter of national security! Our nation of two!

“I remember being so happy when I woke up,” she said to the backpack. “Did you do that too?”

“No, of course not.” That’s just the way you are.

Allison opened the door. Celia’s hand was on her arm.

“Wait.”

“Please don’t touch me right now.”

Celia let go.

“But where are you going to go?” she called. Allison turned the corner and went down the stairs. Celia followed. “Don’t go. I’ll go. You stay here. I’ll just grab some stuff and I’ll go.”

“It’s your apartment.”

“It’s our apartment.”

Allison didn’t answer. She knocked on Shannon’s door. Celia watched from the stairs. It opened.

“Hey Allie!”

“Hey. Can I use your phone book? I need to call a cab.”

“We have a phone book, baby,” Celia’s voice broke.

“Sure! Is everything...” She looked from one woman to the other. “This must be your girlfriend?”

“Celia? You’ve known her for like a...” She stopped, turned back to the stairs. “Month. Oh my god.”

“It wasn’t like that. I just needed her to watch you, to make sure nothing happened when I went to class.”

Allison glared at her. It was like a slap.

Maybe you should stop bringing that up.

“You needed to make her forget you even existed too?”

“Make me what?” Shannon actually raised her hand as if she was asking a question in class.

“No, I... I went overboard. You were upset about... you know, other girls, and, I overdid it.” I overdo things when it comes to you.

“Overdid what?”

Allison passed into the apartment. The other two girls hovered in the doorway.

“I overdid this, with you, too. I was worried that you’d freak out, or...”

“Be scared by what you can make someone, even someone like Amy, do in front of a room full of people? Actually, I wouldn’t have been... last week.”

“HI,” Shannon cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, heh, I think I probably heard you wrong, but, you weren’t talking about me just now, right?”

Allison tore the page out of the phone book.

“Go ahead, tell her.”

“Um?”

She stalked towards the door. The other two cleared a path.

“Just tell me where you’re going, so I’ll know you got there ok.”

“For a walk.”

“In a cab?”

“Yeah.”

Allison strode down the front steps and across the yard, dialing her cell phone. The other two watched her disappear down the street, around the corner.

“Um,” Shannon postulated. “What was she talking about?”

“Nothing. We had a fight. Sorry it spilled into your apartment.” Celia wiped her face.

“But what was she talking about, about... remembering? About me... remembering?”

“She was being poetic.” Celia looked at her. The girl stared, wide-eyed. Scared. “Oh, shit. Look.” She took a step forward. Shannon took a step back.

“Shannon, it’s ok.”

“Why do I get such deja vu when I look at you?” she whispered.

“Just one of those things, I guess.” She took another step forward. Shannon backed against the door jamb, startled herself, felt the opening with her hands, backed through the door, never taking her eyes off of Celia. They crossed the living room like that. Shannon bumped into the coffee table, knocking a magazine to the floor.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” Celia reached for her. The girl shrank away, spun, put the coffee table between them. Her eyes flicked to the phone. She snatched it, then held it awkwardly, not sure what to do with it.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but, I think maybe you should... go.”

“It’s ok. When you wake up you’re going to feel a whole lot better.”

“When I what?“

Celia reached out again. Shannon bolted.

Oh, shit.

Celia chased her. The girl ducked into the bedroom. It was dark; she hadn’t stopped to turn the light on. Celia saw her silhouette against the window. It was an old building, built in that style of large windows and high ceilings. Shannon dropped the phone and threw the window open. It was easily wide enough for both girls to jump through, probably even at the same time. The ground was mere feet away.

“Shannon—”

The girl jumped out and hit the ground running.

Oh SHIT.

Celia vaulted over the sill. The girl was already halfway across the lawn. This wasn’t going to work. Celia was wearing sandals and, on her bottom half, a sari was wrapped around like a skirt; she couldn’t run like that. Shannon was tearing ass like a devil-bear-shark was behind her. This wouldn’t be a problem if you’d stop dressing like the fucking princess of Egypt. Celia kicked the sandals off. The grass was cool and damp. She undid the knot at her hip and let the sari unravel, pooling in a ring of soft material at her feet. Good thing you remembered to wear underwear today.

She sprinted.

Shannon leaped into the street. Tires screeched. A green Volvo slid to a stop an arm’s length away, leaving a smoking trail of rubber. She sailed past it and over the far curb. Three beats later Celia did the same. They vanished into the shadows. The driver hesitated in case any more college girls should pop out of the bushes.

Why couldn’t you have given her a verbal trigger? Because the touch on the neck had been fun. It was playful and, ok, a little hot. It wasn’t like touching someone on the arm, or the hand, or even the lips. It was a vulnerable spot. And convenient: she could use it to put her deeply under right away and not worry that she might keel over.

Is it even going to work right now?

She’s been conditioned every day for almost a month. It’ll work.

They flicked through the yard, shadows. Shannon skirted the next building, slapping the brick with her hands to turn on a dime. She reached the corner, dove into the alley. Celia bent her path towards it as fast as momentum allowed. Too fast. She slipped on the wet grass and slid a yard on her hip. Her feet touched the brick. She was up again before the slide ended.

The alley was empty. Celia hurried to the other end. Shannon was nowhere in sight.

Think. Where would she go?

She wouldn’t have turned onto the street. As far as Shannon knew, Celia had still been behind her at that point. The street was wide open. Shannon wasn’t looking for wide open spaces at the moment. She would try to hide. That meant across the street.

Celia broke it down with clinical clarity. Most people, if they’re lost in the woods, for example, will always turn in the same direction, without even realizing it. That’s how they stayed lost in the woods instead of going straight until they hit a road or a river. Celia narrowed her eyes. Shannon had turned left into the bedroom, left around the building. Shannon’s way was left.

She padded across the dark street, leftish.

Shannon crouched behind a picket fence. She’d run around a house, through the back yard, into this small side yard. She tried to peer through the slats out at the street, but there were some kind of bushes, maybe rose bushes, growing on the other side. It was so dark. She couldn’t get a good angle to look and she didn’t want to move. Celia might catch the movement. Shannon was wearing white and her skin was white. She practically glowed in the dark. Damnit.

She looked into the gloom at the back of the yard. This street was the last in a line of streets in this area. Back there was woods. If she could get in there she’d be safe; white or not, it would be pitch black under the trees. Celia wouldn’t be able to find her. But she couldn’t run yet. Not until she was sure Celia wasn’t out there, somewhere. If she didn’t have a good head start it wouldn’t matter. The sound of her feet on dry leaves would give her away.

The fence was almost four feet high; the slats were narrow and the points at the top were sharp. Celia wouldn’t try to come over that. The pickets would sink right into her hands and the rose bushes would cut up her legs.

Something nagged at her, something Allison had said about Celia. What was it? Something about her hobby in high school. Was she in the drama club, in plays? No, but it was something on stage. Debate club? Spelling bee champ? No. What was it?

It came to her. Allison had said that her girlfriend used to be a dancer. Why did that feel important all of a sudden?

There was a sound somewhere beyond the fence. Shannon squinted. She couldn’t get a good angle and the damp grass muffled everything. There it was again. It was like someone had pounded the ground with their fist, twice. Or maybe it was a car door slamming three streets awa—

Celia sailed over the fence, clearing it without even touching it. Shannon shrieked, was tackled. The both of them crashed backwards.

They wrestled in the dark. It was mostly quiet. The talking part was over.

Celia gained the top, straddled her, pinned her right wrist to the ground. Shannon swatted with her free hand. Celia ignored it. She was only interested in one thing. She reached for the the girl’s neck.

Shannon understood it in a primal way: something would happen if Celia’s hand got back there. She didn’t know what, or how she knew, but she couldn’t let that happen. She seized the tan wrist with her free hand.

They didn’t look at each other’s eyes. They did what animals do when they’re fighting for their lives: look for the most sensitive spot to bite.

Celia put all of her weight on the arm. Shannon couldn’t hold it. In a flash of inspiration, she pulled downwards instead, pinning Celia’s hand against her chest, where she had the leverage to keep it trapped. But the hand tried to slide up. She squeezed the wrist tighter, grunting. Both girls shook with the strain, arm wrestling with nearly equal strength.

But Celia was just the tiniest hair stronger.

Shannon felt the arm flex against her chest. She growled through her nose. The hand slid up a sudden inch, slippery with sweat. No. Shannon tried to clamp harder. Another sudden inch. She couldn’t stop it.

“Shh,” Celia whispered.

Shannon howled, bucking her entire body, trying to throw the maddeningly calm girl off. The hand slipped past her ear, just below the hairline. Shannon turned her head to bite the wrist in a final, fevered effort.

She felt the touch.

Her mind shut down.

The girl went limp beneath her. It was a strange feeling: such a sudden and complete change, from something to... nothing. She realized that her thighs were still clamped around Shannon’s hips. She loosened the pressure. In this state, it might hurt the girl.

The adrenaline faded and took her strength with it. Celia collapsed. Her eyes closed as the rush of oxygen in her blood dissipated. Her face came to rest somewhere between the girl’s shoulder and breast.

The two bodies lay together in a blanket of sweat and grass stains. To a passer by, they might have looked like lovers.

The cab had a loud engine. Allison looked out the window. The sidewalk had a lot of cracks in it. There was grass growing out of some of the cracks. Sometimes there were lamp posts, or street signs. She saw things without really seeing them; the whole was not greater than the sum of its parts.

The driver glanced over his shoulder.

“I don’t wanna be rude, miss, but you’ve already got twenty bucks on the meter and you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

She dropped a handful of crumpled bills into the front seat without looking at them. The driver counted it, raised his eyebrows.

“Whatever you want, ma’am.”

A fire hydrant floated by. She wasn’t going to cry. She wanted to be someplace quiet and alone for that because it was going to take all night.

She wished there was some way to not think anything for an hour.

That brought her back to Celia. She almost started right then, but stopped herself by staring hard at a passing bus stop. Maybe she could get drunk. No, that made you feel more, not less. Then you woke up with a headache and things were the same.

Her cell phone rang. She didn’t need to look at the number. It was Celia. She considered answering it, asking Celia to zonk her out for an hour or something. She would, too; Celia would do anything for her, except treat her like an adult. Her jaw set. She glared at an innocent park bench.

Something occurred to her. Celia wasn’t the only one who could do it.

That thought broke the stasis. She flipped open the phone and dialed a number she hadn’t dialed in a long time.

“Hi, I’m looking for Todd. Does he still... What? No, I’m not a cop, I’m his ex-girlfriend. No, the other one. No, the other one. No—Look, can I just have the number, please?” She tapped the driver on the shoulder.

“Turn here.”

She had the driver to take her to the nearest motel. She wasn’t planning on staying the whole night; she just needed some place private to lie down for this.

“Hey, miss?” The driver called as she walked away from the car. “My wife would probably kill me for doing this, but, you just gave me a hundred dollar tip on a thirty dollar fare. I think maybe you gave me the wrong bills.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. Oh well. Flaky girl. Nice ass, though. He drove away.

In the motel room, she dialed the number.

“Yeah?”

“Todd?”

“...Is that Allison?”

She didn’t answer.

“Well, how ya—”

“I want you to hypnotize me.”

Beep.

“Hi Allie... I just wanted to make sure you were ok, wherever you are. I’m not trying to baby you, just, it’s late and... ok, that really did sound like babying you, I’m sorry, that was stupid. Just let me know you’re ok, ok? I’ll be here all night. Not, you know, waiting by the phone, because I know you’re fine. But, it’ll be on. So.” The message drew out in awkward silence, then ended.

Celia waited by the phone, watching the door.

“Um.” The voice on the other end cleared its throat. “Did you get into the liquor cabinet again, peaches? You know you could never hold it.”

“Shut up. I know that’s what you were doing to me all those years. Cel—a friend helped me realize it.”

Long pause.

“I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, sweetheart, but I think—”

“It’s ok. I don’t care. I want you to. I need this right now. Just for a little while.”

The cheap lamp covered the room in less than warm light. Allison sat on the bed, the small bag with all her worldly possessions beside her. She was looking at her toenails. They were painted purple. Her feet, the room, the ugly bedspread, they all had an unreality about them.

“May I ask what brought this on, Your Highness?”

“Can you go one sentence without using a stupid pet name for me?”

“You’re awfully hostile for a beggar.”

“I’m not selling anything. You like it too, or you wouldn’t have done it to me so much, for so long.”

That was true.

“Ok then. Come over and we’ll have a sit down.”

“No. We can do this over the phone. You’ve done it before.”

“I dunno...”

“Let’s get something straight. I don’t like you. I don’t like being around you. This isn’t some attempt to get back together. This is just something I need and you’re the only one that knows how to do it.”

“Allrighty. We gonna do this now, as in right now?”

“Yes.” She paused. “Wait, I’ll be back in two minutes.”

She fiddled with the phone. It had a built-in alarm somewhere in the myriad of functions. She found it, set it to go off in one hour. Then she picked up the alarm clock by the bed and did the same. There, that was two failsafes.

When you hear the alarm you’ll wake up, no matter what. When you hear the alarm you’ll wake up, no matter what. When you...

She looked around. The room key. She took it, went to the bathroom, flushed it down the toilet. She looked at the swirling water. That didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Todd had never been able to make her do anything she really didn’t want to do; not like Celia. He didn’t even seem to understand what it was he did. Mostly it was just coercion and persuasion: an advanced form of sweet talking. If she had ended up doing anything, it was something she probably would have done anyway. A girl will do a lot for her first “love”; they’re the world. It was a nice feeling sometimes, and not that dangerous. But it didn’t hurt to be safe.

Celia had protected her against that sort of thing; she’d put up locks and gates in Allison’s mind, so that no one could get in unless Allison wanted them to. No one except Celia, of course. If Todd was going to get in, she’d have to let him in. And she was going to.

She needed that feeling. She needed anything.

She lay down on the bed and put the phone to her ear. The timer read 0:02.

“I want you to wake me up in twenty minutes, thirty tops.”

“Whatever you want.”

They both knew he was lying. Allison didn’t care. She needed this.

She looked at the ceiling. There were water stains here and there.

“Go.”

It was so easy to slip away. Her last thought was like that moment, going down a slide, when you break the crest and begin to drop in earnest: This is easy. I didn’t need him for this.

Allison drifted down the dark pathways of her mind. It was blissful nothing. The thing that had been squeezing her chest was gone, for the first time since Celia had told her the thing. That’s all she wanted, to not think about that for a little while. She wandered through dark corridors, not caring where she went.

After a time, she became aware of a force in the darkness. It was the thing that was guiding her. It had been there the whole time; she only noticed now because it was it was asking her things.

Where are you?

“In bed.”

It laughed.

No. Where are you as in, what address?

“Motel Six. Room 112.”

Allison wandered. The timer on the alarm read 0:37.

In bed, she’d said. He laughed again just thinking of it. She was so weirdly literal when she was like that. Once, he’d sent her to the store for a 40oz., and she’d come back with a container of mixed nuts. He’d been confused until he read the label: it was the first thing she’d found with the words “40 ounces” on it. He smiled just thinking of it. Of course, it could be really fucking annoying too. He’d yelled at her and sent her back.

It could be fun though. He tried to remember why he’d let that one get away. Oh, right. She’d just gotten so boring after a while, and she wasn’t exactly a tiger in the sack. Usually she’d just lay there. He’d wondered sometimes if she was a dike or just a prude. One day he’d left her sitting at a table in Denny’s and not gone back.

But his situation had changed as of late. She might be useful.

Something was different about her this time around. There’d always been a little bit of a fight before he could get her to zone out; or, if not a fight, it at least took some time. This time it had been instant. She’d sighed and her voice had got that familiar, sleepy tone right away.

Has someone else been playing with my special girl?

He walked out the door, keeping the phone to his ear, whispering comforting nothings. The motel was less than fifteen minutes away.

A sound floated through her dream, a little boop sound. The display on the phone lit up, illuminating her cheek. It was call waiting, showing Celia’s number. It booped a couple more times, then the display went dark. Allison didn’t see it or hear it. It was only her body there on the bed—she wasn’t even in the same solar system.

The alarm timer read 0:52.

Locked. Of course it was locked. He debated having her get up and open it. She probably would, especially this new and improved Allison; but, it was still a risk. You couldn’t give her orders right away. You had to be gentle. At first, anyway.

He went to the office.

“Hi, my girlfriend checked in earlier. She’s supposed to be in there, but she’s not answering and I don’t have a key. Would you mind coming with me and checking it out? Maybe she went out, but, if she is in there then I’m a little worried.”

“Room?”

“112.”

The woman behind the desk sighed, found the key, and trundled out of the office.

The door cracked open. Allison lay there like an Irish China doll.

“Thanks so much.”

“Hang on,” the manager stood between him and the room. “Miss? Do you know this man?”

Allison didn’t respond.

“Allie, open your eyes. The woman is talking to you.”

Her eyes opened, the barest slits. She saw them.

“Of course,” she said. Of course she knew him. That was Todd, her ex-boyfriend. What a stupid question. This part of the dream wasn’t as fun. She wanted to go back to the quiet place.

And sometimes, that weirdly literal thing comes in handy.

“Thanks again,” he said to the manager as she left. He made his best my girlfriend is a bit of a space cadet face then went in.

He plucked the phone out of her hand and looked at it. There was a little picture of a bell in the corner, with the numbers 0:57 next to it. Huh.

“Well, we don’t need that,” he said. He shut it off and put it in his pocket. “Here we go, upsy daisy.” He lifted her to a sitting position. “We’re going for a little walk.” Locks of hair dangled in front of her face. She didn’t see them. She wasn’t even in the room. He turned her body so that her legs hung over the edge and gently, oh so gently, guided her to her feet. She muttered an inarticulate complaint.

The force told her that her mind could go back. Her legs were going to move, but her mind could stay right where it was. She liked that idea. She didn’t care what her legs did.

“One foot, then the other.” He put his hand on her lower back. Wow. She was seriously gone. She’d never been this way before, not even when he’d worked on her for an entire afternoon.

Who else has been in that cute little head?

He slung her backpack over his shoulder and walked her out. Headlights came to life outside, blaring through the curtains. They turned, bending the shadows as the car backed out and pulled away.

The bedside alarm went off, echoing in the empty room.

Dawn came through the window. Celia watched the door. She hadn’t slept. Sometime between four and five she’d almost nodded off, but had snapped awake as soon as her chin touched her chest. She looked at the phone.

Hey, here’s a thought. When people don’t answer their phones? Sometimes, once in a while, it doesn’t mean they’re dead in a ditch somewhere, it just means they don’t want to talk to you.

She rubbed her eyes.

Occasionally, this happens when they’re mad at you.

The coffee maker gurgled. It was starting to make her nauseous. She needed some air. Couldn’t go for a walk, though. What if Allie came home?

She went downstairs to Shannon’s and woke her out of a sound sleep, then put her back into a sound sleep. The girl’s eyes popped open, and before she could even register what she was seeing, they closed. Celia sat by the bed.

“Hi, Shannon.”

“Hi,” she mumbled.

“I’m going to make this all up to you. I’m even going to let you remember it, eventually. When you’re ready. Not now. It has to come in easy to swallow installments, otherwise you’ll freak out.”

“I will?”

“Yes. It doesn’t seem like it right now, because you’re in a place where you’re feelin no pain. But if you were really awake, yeah, you’d freak. And next time we might not be on the first floor, so, I want to try to avoid that.

“But I want to do something for you. I’m not sure what; I was hoping you could tell me that. Is there anything you want? Anything that would make you happy? If it’s in my power to do, I will.”

The girl breathed beneath the sheets.

“How about a boyfriend. Do you want a boyfriend?”

“Sometimes.”

“Name it. Or, I mean, name him. I’ll bring him to you. He’ll be yours.” I’ll deliver him to your door, staring, and the only word he’ll know will be your name.

Shannon frowned.

“No? You want a boy, but not like that?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Ok. I know. You want a knight in shining armor, right? Someone who’ll come in and sweep you off of your feet?” What girl didn’t? Except me. But, you know, other girls.

Shannon didn’t answer.

“That’s not it either?” Celia looked the girl over. She looked so small and fragile, laying there in her underwear, nothing like the hellcat Celia had fought earlier. There were still grass stains on her palms and elbows.

Celia’s eyes smiled as something occurred to her.

“You do want a boy, but not a knight in shining armor. You want the other kind. The kind where you’re the knight. And you want to do it yourself, because that’s part of it. Is that it?”

Shannon smiled.

Look at that, the freshman’s a domme and she doesn’t even know it. Well, you never know who it’ll be.

“Have you ever been with a guy like that? Or, you know, one who let you be how you wanted to be?”

“No. They don’t like that. That’s not what they want to do.”

“You just haven’t found the right one.”

“I’ve tried...”

“There are personal ads, things like that, where you could hook up with someone who likes what you do.”

“No...” Shannon’s brow creased. Her head turned to the side, away from Celia, the cords in her neck standing out in the half light.

She doesn’t want a guy who’s already like that. She wants to take a regular guy and make him like that. Oh, my.

You told her, whatever she wanted, you’d make it happen if you could. You owe her.

Celia cleared her throat.

“You said you tried. How?”

“Went to a party. I don’t know why, but something... switched on. I wasn’t me. I was her. I started to walk different... people noticed. Guys noticed. I liked it. I felt my weight moving up and down as I crossed the room. My legs hit the ground different. It landed, swung, carried me to the next step...

“I saw everyone in the crowd at once. Guys, girls, I saw where all of their eyes were. Everyone had such hungry eyes. They didn’t even know it, but they were all dying for a reaction from someone else. It was so petty... I was better than them. I counted the eyes that were on me. It was at least ten, twelve in the crowd. Mostly guys. I felt out which eyes were the hungriest, without looking at any of them directly. It was a guy in back, sitting by a book shelf, not talking to anyone.

“I walked towards him without making it look like I was walking towards him. I could feel his eyes flicking to his drink, to something across the room, but always back to me. Something in me knew that I already had him, even though I hadn’t done anything yet.

“I sat down next to him and he stopped looking... he thought he couldn’t look anymore, since I was right there. I started talking, not really listening to what he said back... I led the conversation. When I’d sat down, I’d put my drink on the end table beside him on purpose... so when I reached for my drink, I had to reach over him, and my breast would touch his arm for just a split second. Had to be just a split second, couldn’t be any longer. I could feel the whole room, the whole situation, and I knew it couldn’t be any longer.

“After a little while I sat closer, my leg against his. He loosened up, we had another drink... the next time I reached for my drink I left my breast there for a split second longer... then longer the next time... he started to look at me, to really look at me... when I caught that out of the corner of my eye I looked away, so he wouldn’t be afraid to... I could feel him watching my lips as I talked and my neck when I turned my head.. it was a... to know that he was tuned into the tiniest thing I did...”

“Everything was clicking, I couldn’t do anything wrong... eventually I looked at him and he was finally ok with looking into my eyes... I leaned into him, not pretending anymore... and the next time I reached for my drink our eyes stayed together, and I let myself drag right across his arm, right across his chest... but I didn’t pick up the drink, I kissed him instead... then I felt his hands, they were tentative, and I leaned in more, squishing myself against his chest to let him know he didn’t have to be... I felt him heat up, and I put my leg over his... and then that was it, we had to get out of that room, right that second...

“We stood up and stumbled towards a door, any door that we could close behind us... the bedrooms were full, there was someone in the bathroom... we just opened doors, any door we found... and then one opened and it was a big closet, and I wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled him in...

“There wasn’t any place to lie down, just shelves and clothes hanging... I wrapped my leg around his waist and slammed us back against the shelves... it didn’t hurt, not then, I didn’t care... it was my moment... he pulled my shirt halfway off, but I grabbed his, tore it, let him know it was ok to rip things right now... and he took mine and pulled it off over my head... the seams left marks on the backs of my arms when he did it, for days, but that’s how I wanted it...

“And then his pants were off and he was in me... we’d barely undressed enough to get it done, but there was no time... I put my elbows on the shelf to try and get some... leverage... but it snapped and I fell down to the next one, and then there was enough room after all...

“He was drunk, we both were, so it took some time, but eventually I felt him start to go, I knew it was coming.... I knew he would pull out, because he wasn’t wearing anything... but I didn’t want him to, not this time, so I wrapped my legs around his ass and held on... I moved my body in the way I knew would make him lose it... he jerked, but I pushed my hips up, forcing him in deeper... he tried to pull out for real because he knew it was coming, but I held on, my calves were against his back and I wouldn’t let go... and he tried to get up, he actually lifted me up, but I held on to his chest and then it happened, he writhed inside me and I screamed... but I didn’t let go... not until we’d fallen back against the broken shelves, I didn’t let go... not until I finally felt him go limp.”

The blanket had bunched up between her legs. She fought with herself; her hands tried to pull it up between her breasts, and the death grip between her thighs pulled it back down. If the hands started to win, her hips would jerk up and snatch it back. When they both pulled at the same time her back would arch.

That blanket is either the luckiest bastard in the world or the poorest sap I ever met.

When she said felt him go limp she kind of froze for a moment, her soft limbs wandering aimlessly on the bed. Then she smiled and sighed. Her legs dropped open and her hands fell against her chest, still wrapped up in the blanket. She’d managed to pull her underwear up into her cleft during the struggle. Celia fixed it.

Not trying to cop a feel, but that would be an uncomfortable way for a girl to wake up.

“What happened then?”

“He got mad, asked me why the hell I did that... but it was my night, my moment, and I just smiled at him... he got up, pulled his pants on... mumbled something about my ripping his fucking shirt, and left... I stayed in the closet for a long time, just feeling...”

Complete.

Celia understood; she didn’t need an affinity for the penis-bearing persuasion to understand.

“I wondered what I’d done wrong, why he hadn’t stayed... I didn’t care, not really, I wasn’t upset, but I wondered...”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, sweety. ”

“But I’d had him, and then I... didn’t.”

“Sweety, that doesn’t mean that he was the kind of guy you were looking for. It only means that you seduced him—and, by the way, bravo, because the way you describe it, even I would have fucked you that night.”

Shannon moaned, frustrated.

“Shh. It’s ok. I’ll teach you how to find the kind of guy you’re really looking for. There are signs you can look for. They’re subtle, but once you know what they are, you can be a lioness too. I’ll teach you. We can be a pride.”

She drew the blankets back up over the girl’s body.

“Sleep. When you wake up, know that good things are coming.”

Celia went to the cabinet. There was some wine, a quarter bottle of tequila, and a bottle of bourbon. Bourbon? Where the hell did we get bourbon? They’d gone to a theme party; the theme was noir films or something. Everyone had worn pinstripe suits and brought hard, old-style liquor. Bourbon on the rocks. Except it made everyone drunk way too fast and half the people there ended up puking their guts out. Not Celia, though. Her and Bogart, they were tight. But Allie, oh man. Celia had to carry her home.

She cracked it, went to the chair, watched the door.

Don’t call. It’s seven in the morning. Wherever she is, she’s still asleep. You’ll just piss her off more, and she still won’t answer.

She took a pull.

It’s rare, but, in the history of the telephone, there have been occurrences of people not answering because the person calling them is a douchebag.

She played with the cap.

Maybe the idea of her not wanting to talk to you scares you more than the idea of her lying in a ditch somewhere.

You’re losing it, sister. You need sleep. She’s fine.

She took a pull. She watched the door not open.