Sunday, August 01, 2004

Porn Pre Russian Teen Sex story

The Tranformation



HI, my name is Jasmine, or at least it is now. It used to be George a
couple of years ago, but things have changed a lot over those years. I
used to be an executive at a software company. I had a nice home, devoted
wife, good friends, etc. All in all, we had a pretty happy life, except
for one thing. I was a cross dresser and my wife didn't know. I lived
with the secret for a number of years, afraid she would leave me if I told
her. Finally, I couldn't take the stress of hiding it from her any longer,
so I sat her down and explained my secret to her.

At first, Jackie was quite upset. Surprisingly, at least to me, it
wasn't with the cross dressing per say, it was keeping secrets from her.
One of her first questions was "What other secrets are you keeping from
me?" I assured her that there were no more, but I don't think she believed
me. I had broken her trust and it was going to take a lot to get it back.
It seemed that my fears were going to come true, she was going to leave me.
She told me she needed to be alone for a while. So she packed a bag and
went away for a week. She wouldn't tell me where she was going, or what
she was going to do. I missed her terribly, but was afraid of her coming
back and telling me it was over.So, by the end of the week, I was a nervous
wreck!

Suddenly, I heard the door open. I rushed to the hall to see her
standing there with a whole bunch of shopping bags. I thought she had
assuaged her anger by shopping, but I was wrong. The clothes were all for
me. She had decided that if I wanted to dress like a woman, she was going
to make sure I looked good. I felt the weight of the world lift off my
shoulders.This was beyond my wildest dreams. Ok... I had dreamed about her
helping me, but never thought it would actually happen.

She told me to sit down as there were some rules she wanted understood
and agreed to or she would call the whole thing off and she would leave me.
I had little choice but to agree, though most of the rules were easy for me
to accept.

They were:



I must wear women's undergarments at all times. All my body hair
must go. Unless we were having guests, I must be dressed as a woman at
all times, when in the house. Since I didn't want to wear the pants in
the family, she would. That meant that all decisions would be made by
her.I had to obey her without question. All money would be handled by
her. This meant all our joint accounts were to be closed and she would
open accounts in her name only. I was to have no credit cards. If I
needed to buy something, she would give me the money for it, assuming she
agreed to the purchase. I had to quit my job and become a "housewife" (she
had inherited a considerable amount of money when her parents died, so we
didn't need my salary). I was responsible for keeping the house clean,
doing dishes, laundry, dusting, vacuuming, etc. and have her dinner ready
when she came home from work each day.

The money part worried me, as it meant that I couldn't leave her without
being destitute, but, in the end, I agreed to everything. She told me to
go upstairs to the bedroom, get undressed, remove my body hair with some
cream she had purchased, shower and wait for her, naked. I did as she
asked and waited about an hour before I heard her ascending the stairs.
When she came into the room, she handed me a garbage bag and told me to
fill it with all my "male" underwear, socks, tshirts, jeans, sweats, etc.
I was allowed to keep two shirts (both fairly androgynous), one pair of
slacks (also unisex) and one pair of penny loafers. Everything else was
going to a local charity. Once that was done, she brought all the bags she
came home with into the room. She wouldn't let me touch them, though.
First she brought out a pair of frilly panties and told me to put them on.
I had been walking around naked for the past hour, so I was pretty cold. I
would have worn just about anything! Not that I minded wearing the
panties. Next came a corselet, it was very tight, but helped shape my body
into a more feminine silhouette. There were stockings that attached to the
garters on the corselet and then a satin, half slip that was very full and
felt wonderful on my legs. She produced a pair of sling backs with 4 inch
heels from a box. They were patent leather in a soft pink shade. I put
them on while she rummaged in another of her bags. This time she produced
a sweater, skirt ensemble that matched the shoes in color. They were both
made from angora and were incredibly fluffy. The skirt fell to just below
my knees where it ended in a ruffle border. The sweater had a large cowl
neck that was big enough to cover my whole head, if unfolded. I was in
seventh heaven. I couldn't have chosen an outfit that suited my desires
any better, if I tried. Once everything was on, she stood back and looked
me over. "Not bad" she said, "With a little work, you might even pass.
First, though, we have to do something about your face." She took my hand
and led me downstairs. I was confused. The makeup was all upstairs, so
where were we going?

She handed me a long fox fur coat, gloves and a matching hat. With a
sinking feeling, I realized she was taking me out looking like a man, but
dressed like a woman. She left me no time to argue, though, because as
soon as the coat, etc. were on, she grabbed my hand again and dragged me
outside. We walked to the car, where she informed me that I would not be
doing any of the driving anymore, so I got in the passenger seat. She
wouldn't tell me where we were going, so I just had to sit back and "enjoy
the ride". Like that was possible.

We drove for about 20 minutes, to an area of the city I didn't know. It
was a fairly upscale shopping district, with lots of boutiques and salons.
At least I wouldn't know anyone here, I thought. We pulled up in front of
a salon called "Changes". That seemed appropriate. It seemed to be
closed. There were no lights on and no one around, but my wife dragged me
to the door anyway. She knocked and, in a minute, a woman came to the door
and let us in. She greeted my wife by name and directed us to a cupboard
for our coats. She then directed me to sit down at one of the makeup
stations and said that Gaston would be with us in a minute.

When Gaston came in, he went over and greeted my wife with a kiss on the
cheek and exclaimed "So, this is what you want me to work my magic on?
This is going to be quite the challenge!" My wife said she had some
shopping to do, so she would leave me in Gaston's capable hands, and then
she left.

Gaston looked me over, hemming and hawing over how to start. Finally,
with an "Alor", he brandished a set of tweezers and started on my eye
brows. As the first one was plucked, I yelped, to which Gaston told me to
"stop being a baby, women had this done all the time". Over the course of
the next couple of hours, my face was transformed, my finger and toe nails
were painted and my ears were pierced. The final touch was the wig. It
was honey brown with loose curls cascading down past my shoulders. When
Gaston turned my chair so I could look in the mirror, I was astounded. The
curls softly framed my face, or should I say his work of art. My own
mother would be hard pressed to recognize me or think I was anything but a
girl!

Moments later, Jackie walked in. As she picked her jaw up off the floor
she said "Gaston, you have outdone yourself. She looks fantastic!" Gaston
accepted the praise graciously, but it was easy to tell that he was quite
proud of his accomplishment. After paying the bill, we walked back to the
car.

Jackie suggested we go to a restaurant for supper. I was, shall we say,
less then enthusiastic about the idea as it would mean being out in public
for an extended period of time. Despite what I had seen in the mirror, I
was sure everyone would be able to tell. But... Jackie was insistent, so I
had no choice.

We went to a small restaurant close by. All the tables were secluded
with intimate dining for couples the obvious intent. This suited me just
fine. When it came time to order, Jackie selected chateaubriand for two,
so I didn't have to try and pass my voice off as a woman's. The food was
excellent, the wine delicious and the conversation better than Jackie and I
had had in a long time. I started to relax and let my feminine side take
over. When we finally got home, we made love like we never had before!

A couple of months passed with me spending virtually all my time as a
woman. I spent hours working on my voice to give it a more feminine lilt,
with a bit of success. I had learned how to walk in high heels and sit
like a lady. I had learned how to do my own makeup and nails. I was
still wearing a wig since my own hair didn't grow very fast. I had taken
my feminization as far as I could on my own. So, one day Jackie suggested
we see a doctor about hormone therapy. Thinking this was a great idea, I
readily agreed. So Jackie did some research and made an appointment with a
clinic about 4 hours away. She showed me a brochure she had received. On
the cover was a picture of the grounds. It showed a Victorian era mansion
surrounded by manicured lawns, stately trees and colorful flower beds.
Inside were pictures of what looked like well appointed hotel. There was a
small blurb on the history of the clinic and its staff, but very little
about what the clinic did. What Jackie didn't show me was the other
brochures on the actual programs.

On the appointed day we drove up to the clinic. The grounds were as
beautiful as pictured with an air of old world gentility. We met with the
head of the clinic, Dr. James, and explained our situation. Then I was
ushered into an examining room where a doctor did a full physical exam.�
While I was occupied, Jackie stayed with the Dr. James. Dr. James
already knew all about me as Jackie had talked to her, at length, a couple
of weeks before. As I am sure you have figured out, Jackie didn't tell me
anything about what her real plans for me were. I was under the impression
that the result of our visit would be a prescription for hormones, nothing
else. I was wrong. At some point in the exam, I was offered some juice
and since I hadn't had anything to drink since before we left home, I
accepted it without question. Shortly there after, I was told that the
exam required me to lie down on the examining table while the Doctor did an
ECG. "This will take a while" the nurse said "and it was important that I
lie very still". The drugs in the juice soon had there desired effect, I
was out cold!

When I woke up, I was in one of the "hotel" like rooms, except the bed
wasn't the same. It was a standard hospital bed. I soon discovered that I
was unable to move. My ankles and wrists were restrained and there were
more restraints around my waist and neck. I started yelling, which brought
instant results, not the kind I was hoping for though. A nurse walked in
and forced a ball gag into my mouth and buckled it behind my head. She
told me that yelling was not acceptable; in fact, I was not to talk at all,
unless asked a question. For my infraction I would be gagged for 4 hours,
as this was my first offense. Subsequent incidences would be treated much
more harshly. Then she turned around and left the room.

After what seemed like an hour, Jackie walked in. She smiled down at me
and said "You didn't really think that I was just going to accept your
crossdressing, did you? Let me tell you what is really going on". With
that she pulled up a chair, sat down and started in. "I have signed a
contract with this "clinic", well it isn't really a clinic, that's just a
front. Actually, it is a business that fulfills requests from very rich
customers for "women" like you. You will be transformed into what will
appear to be a woman, on the outside, but very much a man on the inside. I
am getting well paid for providing you to them as well as removing the
complication of having to divorce you, since you won't be around.
Unfortunately, you were killed in a car accident and have been buried. I
have a death certificate signed by a doctor here as well as proof of
cremation and burial in the cemetery across the road. So, no one will
wonder where you are." Jackie got up, came over and kissed my forehead and
with a "Goodbye, have fun." she walked out of my life, forever.

As promised, after 4 hours, the nurse came back in and removed the gag.
She sat down and consulted the clipboard she had brought with her. "You
have a busy schedule for the next couple of days, Jasmine. I will give you
a brief overview of what you can expect. We are going to begin with basic
hormone injections and work on you vocal chords (to make your voice more
feminine). Next we will remove your testicles, to eliminate the production
of male hormones. Then some work on feminizing your face and shortening
your Achilles tendons. Then there will be a period of recuperation and
training. You will be evaluated regularly and any problem areas will be
dealt with. That is all you need to know for now".

With that, she left the room. I was in shock! On the one hand, I was
furious at what they (and Jackie) were doing to me, but on the other hand,
excited by the prospect of becoming a woman. I was confused, as well.
What was the shortening of the Achilles tendons for? I would have to wait
a couple of weeks to discover the reason for this.

Another nurse came in and gave me an injection. I was out cold within
minutes. When I woke up, my throat was killing me. When the nurse came in
she told me it was best if I kept quiet, to let my throat heal properly.
For 2 days, I was fed intravenously and didn't make a peep. My throat felt
better each day.

On the third day, I was allowed to have my first sip of water. It was
followed, very quickly with another injection that knocked me out. This
time, when I woke up, my crotch hurt. Remembering what the nurse had told
me, I assumed that my balls were history. I couldn't check, since I was
still restrained at all times. At least I could talk now. But my voice
sounded strange. It was a bit higher than normal and softer, definitely
more feminine! It was a little disconcerting at first. When I spoke,
someone else's voice came out.

After a couple of days to recover from the last surgery, I was given
another injection. This time my face hurt and was completely covered in
bandages. As well, my ankles were killing me. So... They had done some
work on my face and the mysterious work on my Achilles tendons. Once
again, I was being fed through a feeding tube since the bandages made it
impossible for me to open my mouth. Also, I was breathing through tubes
stuck up my nose.

After a week of darkness, the nurse finally removed the gauze. I wasn't
given a mirror, so I couldn't see what they had done, but if the pain was
any indication, my cheeks, nose, eyes and lips had all had something done
to them. Now that the bandages were off, I was able to speak and eat
again.

All the surgery and tube feeding had taken their toil. I was very weak,
but also, about 25 pounds lighter. After a final week of recovery, the
restraints were finally removed. I was so weak after about a month of
immobility, that I needed help just to sit up. I was only able to stay
sitting up for about 15 minutes.�

Over the next couple of days, I was able to stay sitting up for longer
and longer periods of time. Finally, after 5 days, I attempted standing.
My legs were like jelly! With help from 2 nurses, I was able to make it to
a chair.� I noticed that when I put my foot down flat, I felt a sharp pull
in the muscles in the back of my legs. When I asked about it, the nurse
smiled and said "That's to be expected. I will get you some slippers." I
didn't know what slippers had to do with it, until she brought them in.
They were mules with a 3" heel. Suddenly I clued in. They had shortened
my Achilles tendons so I would have to wear heels.� When I got up, it felt
like my feet were flat on the ground, even though I was wearing heels.

Over the next month, the surgeries became a distant memory. I spent
more and more time up and about as well as in "training". The training
consisted of learning to walk, sit, dance, talk and gesture like a woman.
My wardrobe changed as well. At first I had been in a hospital gown. Then
I was given a peignoir to wear over a nighty. Then I was introduced to the
kinds of clothes I would be wearing once I left the hospital. This
included a corset, but not a very severe one, at least at first.� This was
another part of the "training".�

Over the rest of my stay, the only time I was not wearing a corset was
when I was bathing. As I said, the first corset wasn't very severe. It
brought my waist down to 32 inches. This was reduced by � inch every week.
As this reduction in my waist size was going on, my breasts were getting
larger and larger. By the time my waist was down to 29 inches, my breasts
were up to a 34B.� When I asked how much longer I was going to have to stay
in the hospital, I was told that my waist had to measure 24 inches before
they would even think about releasing me. At � inch per week, that was
going to take 10 more weeks!� If I wanted to go home earlier, I had to
reduce faster.

From that point forward, I asked the nurse to tighten the corset as much
as she could, I would put up with the pain. I was able to manage � of an
inch over the next 4 weeks, so I was down to 26 inches.� Only 2 more to go!
What I didn't know was that the size of my waist was not the only factor
they were using to determine my release date. They were also looking at my
breast size, and how feminine I looked and acted. By the time my waist was
down to 24 inches, my breasts were a 34C. That wasn't good enough. They
were looking for a 36C, so they decided to put some implants in.� This
meant more surgery and a delay in my departure. As well, the nurse
continued to tighten the corset tighter each week. So by the time I had
recovered from the surgery and my breasts had reached 36C, my waist was
down to 21 � inches.

I had now been in the hospital for 6 months. The hormones had other
effects than just growing my breasts. My whole body had taken on a more
feminine look, my muscles had shrunk, my skin had become smoother and, with
the aid of electrolysis, was now hairless, except for on top of my head.
There, my hair had grown down to my mid back. I was taught how to style it
in different ways and had become quite accomplished at it.

By the way, the changes they had made to my face; they included implants
under my eyes which produced a high cheek bone effect, a tightening of my
eyelids to remove the crow's feet, my nose had been reduced in size and my
lips had been shortened and injected with collagen. Overall, the effect
was astounding. With my new figure, hair, some makeup and some proper
clothes, no one would mistake me for a man.

Over this same period, my nails had grown quite a bit. I was given a
manicure and pedicure once a week and was taught how to apply nail polish
and how to care for my nails. As my waist reduced in size and my breasts
increased, my wardrobe changed as well. A dress that fit me perfectly one
week, was to loose or tight the next. This meant that I rarely wore the
same outfit twice.

All of my clothes were very feminine. I had no pants, sweats, socks, or
anything that could be remotely considered male. Most of the time, I wore
dresses, though occasionally I wore a blouse and a skirt.� When I was
learning to dance, I always wore a ball gown. These weren't your average
"slip this over your head and zip up the back" kind of dresses.� It usually
took about an hour just to get ready for the lesson. Each gown had
multiple petticoats, an under skirt and an over skirt, a tight fitting
bodice with tons of buttons, tight fitting mutton sleeves with large puffs
at the shoulder, tight fitting gloves that required a button hook to close
and extremely high heels. I had to redo my makeup and hair so it was
appropriate for a ball. In essence, I was supposed to look exactly the way
I would look if I was going to a real ball. The dance lessons occurred
every other day, so I got pretty good at preparing myself. All the outfits
I was provided were from the era when corsets were in style. I don't mean
as outerwear as you see them on the catwalks today. They were more of the
"Victorian" era type. Usually, this meant tight fitting bodices with
balloon sleeves, floor length skirts with petticoats, high collars, lace
gloves and ornate hats. I figured that, since this was a hospital, the
clothes were either donated or from a collection they had had for years.
Though, they were all in excellent shape, looking like they had never been
worn. The sheer number of different outfits I wore during my stay boggles
the mind.

Since I was, for all intents and purposes, a woman now (except for one
minor detail I still had a penis), I reveled in my new role.� I had
always enjoyed cross dressing, and now I could do so with impunity. Since
the deed was done, I decided to enjoy the change rather than fight it.
This made life a lot easier for me, as fighting it would have only left me
frustrated, since I really had no control over any of my life.

One day, the nurse came in to my room, with an outfit over her arm, and
told me I was being discharged.� She placed the outfit on my bed and told
me to get dressed quickly as I would be leaving in 15 minutes. With so
little time to change, I had no time to think about what "discharged" meant
or even what it was I was putting on.

It was a fairly typical outfit compared with what I had been wearing, so
it never crossed my mind that it was totally unsuitable for the modern day
woman. It consisted of a pink satin under skirt with 4 petticoats under
it, an embroidered brocade bodice, also pink and a gown that had flounce
topped mutton chop sleeves with a bolero type vest all in pink velvet, with
a silk overskirt with bows gathering it in 4 locations, showing the
underskirt and a cummerbund tied into a large bow in the back. It was very
heavy and warm, but was absolutely gorgeous! Once I was dressed, I was
escorted to a room on the first floor (I hadn't been on the first floor
since I arrived) by 2 very big security guards. They ushered me in and
then closed the door behind me. I was alone in this room that was
extremely plain.� All the walls, the floor and the ceiling were painted the
same shade of white. There was indirect lighting that washed the room in
such a way that it was difficult to see where the walls met the floor,
ceiling and each other. It was somewhat disorienting.

The only break from the stark whiteness was a mirror that was about 4
feet high by 6 feet long on one wall. Though I had no way of knowing it,
this was actually a two way mirror. I was being observed by the person
interested in purchasing me. It seemed like I was in there forever, though
I am sure it was no longer than an hour.

Finally, a portion of the wall opened and 2 more guards entered. They
grabbed my wrists and pulled me through the door rather roughly.� I yelped
and they told me to keep quiet.� The room I was in now was very different.
It looked like some sort of loading dock. There was a garage door at one
end with a forklift in front of it. At the other end, where we had entered
the room, was a large wooden crate about six feet high, three feet wide and
three feet deep.� It was lined with what looked like styrofoam insulation.
Before I had a chance to see more I was pulled over to a table and forced
to lie down on it. The men rolled me on to one side and held me there
while another person poured something warm into my ear. I immediately lost
all hearing in that ear. I was then rolled to the other side and the
process was repeated. Then I was rolled onto my back and my mouth was
forced open. A tube was fed down my throat. The tube ended in an
inflatable gag that was placed in my mouth. The outside of the gag
contained two tubes that went up my nose a short distance and finished with
a tight sealing cover that encompassed my mouth and nose completely. A
thick strap was cinched tight behind my head, below my ears. Another
strap, attached to the top end of the gag contained pads that were placed
over my eyes, blinding me completely. This strap was also fastened behind
my head. Now I couldn't talk, hear or see!

Once this was accomplished, my skirts were pulled up and a catheter was
inserted. As well, a butt plug was slipped in until it seated itself
firmly inside me. After completing this procedure, I was guided off the
table. Strong arms grabbed my arms and lifted me off the ground. I was
moved over to the crate and placed inside, facing out (not that I could see
anything, anyways).

Apparently, the inside of the crate was fitted with special padded
blocks at various strategic spots. There was one at my neck, each upper
arm, each wrist, my waist, and my ankles.� They were all half circles
contoured to fit my body exactly. Each block had a mate that was screwed
in place, making it impossible for me to move.� The tubes protruding from
my mouth and nose were hooked up to canisters attached to the side of the
crate. A layer of tissue paper was placed over the dress, to prevent
damage and then the front of the crate was screwed in place.� A chute above
the crate was opened and packing material rained down on me, filling the
box. Then the top was screwed in place. Nothing happened for quite
awhile. The tubes running to my nose delivered oxygen as well as a small
dose of sedative. I was soon fast asleep.

I woke up with a start when the crate was lifted and placed on a truck.
But once the truck got moving, I went back to sleep very quickly. This
happened a couple of times.� I am not sure how many or over what period of
time. The tube down my throat delivered food, so the trip had to have
taken long enough that they were worried about me starving.

The sedative was designed to last until shortly before I arrived at my
destination. The last time I was moved on to a truck, I woke up and didn't
go back to sleep. The ride was quite bumpy, but all the padding in the
crate softened it considerably.� It seemed to take about an hour, though it
is very hard to tell time when you can't see, hear or move! Finally, the
truck came to a stop and backed up to another loading dock. Once again, a
forklift was employed to remove the box from the truck.� The crate was
placed on its back and the front was unscrewed. Some kind of vacuum system
was used to remove the packing material. Then the crate was maneuvered to
an upright position. The restraining blocks were unscrewed and I was
lifted from the crate.

The confinement had left me very weak, so I had to be helped over to a
wheelchair.� The gag, blindfold and earplugs were not removed before I was
wheeled off the loading dock. The ride lasted for a few minutes,
negotiating a number of turns that left me completely disoriented.

When we reached what was to be my room, I was left sitting in the
wheelchair. A short while later two women came in and proceeded to remove
the tubes, blind fold, and gag. The next step was to get me undressed,
which they did without saying a word. Not that I could have heard them,
since my ears were still blocked. Once I was completely undressed, they
led me into a bathroom where they guided me into a tub filled with bubbles.
The water was wonderfully warm and soothing and I let them wash me
completely as I relaxed and let the warmth penetrate my aching muscles.
Apparently, the trip had taken its toll.

Before getting me out of the bath, my helpers gently pushed my head
under water, leaving my mouth and nose above, but my ears below. After a
couple of minutes they each grasped small strings anchored in the earplugs
and gently wiggled them free. I could hear again!

After helping me out of the bath and drying me off, they led me to a
massage table, where they spread a body lotion all over my skin and kneaded
it in. Next came some powder that left me skin soft and smooth. While I
was still on my back, they applied my makeup and painted my finger and toe
nails. Once they were satisfied with the effect, I was directed to a
dressing room.

Actually, it wasn't just "a" dressing room; it was the most amazing room
I had ever seen. It was round with the walls consisting of mirrors.�
Hanging from the center of the ceiling was a lacing bar with cuffs at
either end. Directly beneath the bar, anchored to the floor was a tbar
with the horizontal part about 6 inches above the floor. This also had
cuffs at either end. Once we were inside, the door was closed and I was
led to the center of the room.�

The door, which was also covered in mirrors, all but disappeared. One
of the maids pressed a button on a remote control device and a drawer
concealed as part of the mirrors, silently slid open. From it, the other
maid extracted a white satin chemise and dropped it over my head. After
some tugging, they were able to position it properly. It was quite tight
down to my waist and then flared out over my hips and down to my knees.
While this was being done, the other maid had retrieved a pair of silk
stockings and proceeded to draw them up my legs. They were secured by
laced covered garters. A pair of high heels was then forced onto my feet.
They had 5 inch heels and were secured with a strap that went from under
the arch, over the foot, around the ankle twice, back over the foot and
buckled on the other side.

After buckling each shoe, one of the cuffs was placed around my ankle
and secured.� This left my feet about 3 feet apart.� By pressing another
button on the remote, the lacing bar was lowered even with my waist. The
cuffs were put around my wrists and cinched tight. With another press of
the button, the bar ascended until my feet were almost off the ground.

Next a severe looking corset was wrapped around my body. It stretched
from my hips to just under my breasts.� Since this corset had no front
opening, the maids had to start the lacing from scratch. They had
obviously done this before as they quickly fed the laces through the
eyeholes and started tightening.

My training while in the hospital stood me in good stead. They were
able to reduce my waist to 21 inches with little difficulty. Since this
was the desired size, the whole lacing process only took about an hour.�

On completion, they lowered the lacing bar down and released my wrists.
The cuffs around my ankles were not removed. Instead, one of the maids
loosened a thumb screw and slid the cuffs together and then retightened the
screws. Now my ankles were touching each other.

The next step in getting me dressed involved layering petticoats on.
The first one was very narrow and went down to my ankles. Each subsequent
one was wider, fuller and had several rows of ruffles. By the time the
sixth one was put in place, my skirts measured about 6 feet in diameter.�
Then an under dress was slipped over my head. It was a pale pink with a
tight fitting bodice, short sleeves that ended with tight cuffs around my
upper arms, a full skirt with a duster at the bottom.

With much tugging, long kid gloves were stretched to just below the
sleeve. They were fastened with buttons at the back of the wrist and above
the elbow. It took the two maids together to lift the gown over my head.
The bodice was a heavy brocade with elaborate embroidery. It had a high
tight collar with boning to keep it in place. The sleeves were long,
puffed out at the shoulder and elbow, with a row of buttons from just below
the elbow to the wrist. The skirt was raw silk reaching to the floor
except where it was held up by ribbons, on either side, showing the
underskirt below. Finally a hat was attached to my hair with a couple of
hairpins.� It had a large feather died the same shade of pink as the dress
and a small lace veil.

Now that I was dressed, my ankle restraints were removed and I was led
out of the dressing room. A final touch up of my makeup and I was ready
to go. Where I was going to go, I had no idea. The maids had talked very
little and when I asked them questions, I was told to shush.� So when the
maids opened the doors, I was a little hesitant to leave. They became
impatient and shooed me out. I was told to go downstairs to the parlor and
was given directions.

My first obstacle was the stairway. Though each step was quite large,
my voluminous skirts made the job quite perilous.� Also, the innermost
petticoat kept me from taking anything more than about three inch steps.
It took me half an hour to get from my room, down the stairs and into the
parlor!

The room was quite large and contained a number of seating areas. The
walls were covered with paintings and tapestries. The ceiling was about 20
feet high and was painted to look like the sky, with wispy clouds dotting
the pale blue background. The floor was wood with areas rugs strategically
placed. One side of the room contained a massive fireplace with an
ornately carved mantle and a limestone hearth. It was surrounded by a
matching set of couches and chairs.

Sitting in one of the chairs was a woman dressed in a midnight blue
Chanel suit. Since she was the only other person in the room, I walked
over to her.� When she spotted me, she waved me over saying "Well, my dear,
come over here so I can get a look at you". I shuffled over to her chair,
where she made me turn around several times. "Wonderful" she exclaimed,
"You will be perfect. Now we need to get you ready. Come with me."

With that she arose and headed for a door at the other end of the room.
I shuffled along as fast as I could, but she had to wait for me to catch
up. Finally, I reached the door and we proceeded into a small utility room.


Taking a wide, satin ribbon from a table, she asked for my left hand.
She tied the ribbon around my wrist and placing my arm behind my back, she
fed the ribbon under my right arm and around the front. She then
maneuvered my right arm into the same position and tied the other end of
the ribbon to my right wrist. This resulted in my arms overlapping from
elbow to wrist behind me, secured so I couldn't move them. Then, she asked
me to open my mouth and before I could react, she popped a ball gag in my
mouth. She secured the gag behind my head with another piece of ribbon and
fastened a bow over top of the gag, concealing it completely. "There we
go" she said. �"You'll make a perfect gift for Edward. Now, don't go
anywhere. I will come and get you when its time."

With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her. I couldn't
open the door with my hands tied behind me anyway, so I just had to stand
there and wait.

After what seemed like about an hour, I heard voices coming into the
parlor. It sounded like a whole group of people who were joking and
laughing and telling stories. Obviously, some sort of party was in
progress. After about half an hour, the conversations died down and I
heard the woman say "I would like to propose a toast to the birthday boy,
Edward". That was followed by a number of here, heres and congratulations
and the clinking of glasses.� She continued "Now that you are 21, you are
finally a man and as such are ready for an adult toy." With that, I heard a
knock on the door and the door was opened.

I walked out of the room into the middle of a circle of people. The
woman led me over to Edward and said "Happy birthday, dear, I hope you get
many good years of use out of her". I expected Edward to be quite
embarrassed by all this, but he seemed genuinely pleased. The crowd seemed
to think it was normal too, as they all started clapping. Apparently,
these people were quite used to somebody being given as a gift to someone
else!

Edward asked me to turn around so he could get a good look at me. When
I finished, he motioned for me to do it again. With a "very nice", he
finally motioned for me to stop. He said "Thank you Mother, she's
beautiful" and gave her a kiss. She said "Come on, let's open your other
gifts" and led him back to the area in front of the fireplace.

The rest of the group followed along, leaving me standing there,
forgotten. Since I couldn't make any noise, due to the gag, I couldn't
complain. I started to follow them, but a maid came in and told me to
follow her. I glanced over to Edward, but he was engrossed in opening
another present and obviously wasn't going to overrule her, so I followed
her.�

She led me to the stairs and started up them. I tried to follow, but my
gown got caught on the bottom step. Since I couldn't use my arms to raise
the skirt, I was stuck! I tried to get her attention, but all that came
out was"oomph". When she was about half way up, she turned to see how I
was doing. With a perturbed look, she came back down and grabbed the front
of my skirts and told me to hurry up. Even with her help, it took a long
time to make it to the top. I was exhausted! She led me to Edward's
bedroom and told me to stand beside the bed until he arrived.

It was only 8 o'clock, so I expected it would be quite a while before he
made an appearance. I was right, it was 11:30 before he came in. When he
spotted me beside his bed, still decorated like a present, he smiled and
said "Oh yes, I haven't really unwrapped you yet, have I?" With that, he
came over and removed the bow from the front of the gag and said "there we
go, all unwrapped" and then chuckled. He turned around and went into the
washroom.� I heard him undressing and then water running as he got ready
for bed. Up to this point, I hadn't really taken the time to really look
at Edward, but when he emerged, wearing burgundy, silk pajamas, I realized
he was very handsome.� He had dark brown short hair that matched his eyes.
He had a chiseled chin and a wonderful smile. He was a little over 6 feet
tall, with a muscular build, but not like a body builder, more like someone
who exercised regularly, to keep in shape.� Despite the indignity of my
position, I started to feel excited about being with him.

He came over and turned me around. He released my arms and started
undoing the buttons on the back of my dress. After pulling the dress over
my head and tossing it on the floor, he proceeded to remove my petticoats.
Since I wasn't wearing anything under them, I was left with only my corset
and chemise. He removed the gag, took my hand and led me to the bed. He
gently lowered me down and while kissing me, he gently caressed me with his
hands. I found myself becoming very aroused. Edward was also becoming
aroused and flipped me over onto my front. He lifted my chemise out of the
way and slowly guided himself into me. At first it hurt considerably, but
with gentle words and caresses, he got me to relax enough to allow entry.
Once he was inside he increased the pressure and with slow in and out
motions, filled me completely. With his arousal increasing, he started to
pump in and out faster and faster. The motion touched something inside of
me. My arousal increased in lock step with his and as he finally climaxed,
I did as well.

He collapsed on top of me.� We were both panting and exhausted from this
first encounter. After a few minutes he slid out of me and rolled me on to
my back. He started kissing me passionately as he took my head into his
hands. When he came up for air, he said "I think I'm falling in love with
you already. Mom sure knows how to buy a birthday present."�

He rolled over and pressed a button on the wall beside the bed. In
short order his man servant entered and asked how he could be of service.
Edward told him to get my maids. With a "very good, sir", he left the
room.

A few minutes later, the two maids who had dressed me, came in. One of
them came over to the bed and held out a chiffon gown for me to slip into.
The other gathered up all my discarded clothes.�

They led me back to my own room, where they prepared me for bed. First
they bathed me, then creamed and powdered me. I was left alone long enough
to brush my teeth and relieve myself, and then I was led back in to my
dressing room. They slid a full length satin night gown over my head. One
of the maids opened a cupboard and retrieved the most severe corset I had
ever seen. It went from neck to knees. The top was a neck corset about 4
inches high, with stiff boning. It had short sleeves ending about half way
between my shoulders and elbows. The sleeves were attached to the body of
the corset, so my arms were held tight against my body.

The girls started lacing at the top and tied it off about 4 inches above
my waist.� Then, with my feet tight together, they laced from my knees up
to my hips. A third set of laces was employed for my waist area. Once
they had all three sets firmly in place, they started over.� The upper
laces were pulled until my head was rigidly held looking up, with my neck
stretched quite painfully.� My shoulders were forced back, causing my
breasts to push out in the front. The lower laces were tightened until my
legs were sandwiched together and my rear jutted out. Then they started on
the middle. They spent about 15 minutes just getting the waist to where
they wanted it. Once they were done, they left me standing there while
they busied with getting the bed ready. About 10 minutes later, they came
back and tightened each set of laces one more time. I felt like I was
going to faint, but the pain in my neck kept me conscious. Next a pair of
gloves was retrieved. They were in some sort of stretcher that made it
easier to get the gloves on. As soon as the stretcher was removed, the
glove was forced up my arm. It came to just under the sleeve of the corset
and attached to it by a couple of ribbons. The fingers of the gloves were
sewn together and had rigid boning between each one. This kept my fingers
from being able to bend.� More boning down the back of the hand and over
the wrist, kept my wrists perfectly straight. A ribbon extended from the
tips of my fingers and was tied off to a ring on the corset.� This kept my
hands tight to the sides of my body. To further enforce this, cuffs
attached to the corset were buckled over my wrists. They slipped a pair of
marabou mules on my feet and helped me shuffle over to the bed. They laid
me on my back and slid my body to the middle of the bed. Then they removed
the mules and slipped a pair of tight elasticized socks on my feet.� Then
they shoehorned a pair of ballet slippers on my feet. This caused my feet
to point straight down with my heels forcibly bent to conform to the shape
of the shoe. Finally, a mask was placed over my face. It had some kind of
cream on the inside that smelled awful.�� When I complained, a gag was
slipped into my mouth and secured to the mask. The mask completely covered
my eyes, so I couldn't see anything. As well, it covered my ears, so I
couldn't hear.�

With everything in place, straps, attached to the bed frame were buckled
to the sides of the corset at various locations. These were cinched tight,
so movement was impossible. Then the covers were drawn up over my body, so
that anyone who looked would just see a woman with a skin cream mask, lying
in bed. The bed had a few more tricks in store. It was a canopy bed with
heavy curtains. Once I was secured the curtains were released from their
ties. This completely eliminated any light getting into the bed.� Then
ornate wooden sides were unfolded and locked in place. The bed was now a
prison. Not that I could have escaped anyway!

I had a lot of trouble falling asleep due to the pain caused by the
restraints and the smell of the mask, but eventually, exhaustion won out. I
was awakened in the morning by the maids, and released from the bed. They
lugged my body upright and helped me to the changing room.� Since I still
had the ballet slippers on, standing on my own was extremely painful.

They removed the corset, mask, shoes, gloves and night gown, before
leading me to the bathroom. I was allowed to relieve myself in private as
the bath filled.� Once I was done, the maids came back in and helped me
into the bath. This was to become one of my favorite parts of the day.
The hot water penetrated my muscles soothing them after a long night of
pain. The maids washed my body completely with soft sponges.

Once I was clean, I was dried and laid on the massage table where
soothing oils were kneaded into my skin. Finally, a dusting of scented
powder was applied, making my skin smooth and soft. The whole process took
about half an hour. If I had a vote, it would have lasted much longer, but
of course, I didn't.

Each day, from then on, once the bathing was done, I was escorted into
the changing room and fitted into an extremely tight corset, ballet shoes,
petticoats and a formal ball gown. I was never to leave my rooms not
wearing a ball gown, other then when returning from Edward's room at night.
The ball gowns hid the fact that my feet were shod in torturous shoes and
that the petticoats restricted my gait to a couple of inches.

The process of bathing and dressing took about 3 hours. By the time I
was ready, it was almost noon.� The corset made it impossible to eat very
much, so lunch usually consisted of a light salad and a small glass of
milk. It didn't take very long for my body to show the effects of the
reduced eating. I lost about 5 pounds and a � inch around my waist each
week. It wasn't very long before I was down to 19 inches and had to get a
whole new wardrobe!

As for the rest of my day, in the afternoons, I spent my time doing
needlepoint, knitting, or sewing.� I was taken for a walk on the grounds
once a day, to get some fresh air. I never got very far due to my
restricted gait, so it took a long time before I had visited every area.
It was a huge estate, surrounded by a high stone wall, so I never saw the
outside world.� The grounds were beautiful, though, so I enjoyed my walks.

Before supper, I returned to my suite to have my makeup touched up and
sometimes, if it was a special occasion, where a more formal gown was
required, I would have to spend an hour or so getting redressed. Again,
due to my corset, I couldn't eat anything more than a few bites of supper,
but what I did have was always superb. They had a wonderful chef.

After supper, I was taken up to Edward's bedroom to wait for him. As
with the first night, he usually didn't arrive until after 11, so I spent a
lot of time waiting by his bed. Edward was very gentle with me and I soon
fell in love with him.

There were few opportunities to talk with him, outside the bedroom, but
when I did, he was always very courteous and gentlemanly.

The only deviation to my daily routine was when new clothes were
required. Every time my waist shrunk, I needed new corsets and gowns.� As
well, my arms hands and feet shrunk, I required new gloves and shoes. This
meant appointments with the corsetiere, dress makers, milliners and shoe
makers. These appointments consumed many of my afternoons, as new
measurements were required and new designs needed to be discussed, before
the garments could be made.

Then, a couple of days later, there would be fittings for everything,
followed by the arrival of all the new clothes. This was the part of the
process I liked the best. Seeing all the new clothes and getting to wear
something different every day, even if they were restrictive, was really
exciting. �Next to my time spent with Edward, this was the part of my new
life I enjoyed the most.

Then one day, I heard a commotion downstairs. I couldn't hear what was
being said, but Edward and his mother were shouting at each other. That
evening, I spent in my rooms instead of waiting for Edward. The next
morning, I heard Edward and his mother and father raising their voices
again. Until the day before, I had never heard a cross word spoken in the
house. I wasn't able to make out what was said, but when I saw Edward,
later that day, he was obviously very agitated. I asked him what was
wrong, but he brushed me off, saying it was none of my concern. His
abruptness was very unusual and hurt. So I went back to my room and sulked
for the rest of the day.

The next afternoon, I was summoned by Edward's mother. When I got down
to the parlor, Edward, his mother and father were waiting for me.� Edward
took my arm and led me to a settee. He took a large breath and said "I
know you are aware that I have been having a disagreement with my mother
and father the last couple of days. What we have been arguing about is
you."� He quickly added "you haven't done anything wrong; in fact it's just
the opposite. I have fallen in love with you and want to marry you. My
mother and father don't think I should. There reason is because you are a
possession.� They want me to marry a girl from an influential family as has
been traditionally done in our society. I don't want to marry any of those
girls, and they have finally given in." With that, he dropped to one knee
in front of me and took my hand. Then he said "Will you marry me?" I had
barely taken in the fact that he loved me when he asked, so I was really
flustered. I just sat there looking at him for such a long time that
Edward became concerned.� He asked if I was alright.� Finally it sunk in
and I started to smile.� The first time I had really smiled in a long time.
I looked him in the eyes and said "Edward, I would love to be your wife."

We both started breathing again at the same time.� Then, he took a ring
box out of his pocket and opened it up. It contained the most beautiful
diamond ring I had ever seen, and it was huge! He placed it on my ring
finger. We were officially engaged.

The wedding was set for a Saturday 2 months away. This left us very
little time to prepare, but it was necessary since it was the only date
that everyone had free for the next year. So the whirlwind began. First
on my list was a wedding dress. Edward's mother had a couple of designers
come in to display their dresses. After looking at about a hundred gowns,
we finally decided on one. It was very full, with a beaded bodice, long
sleeves, a high collar, a huge bow at the back and a long train. The veil
was French lace. Naturally, it had a very small waist that would require a
corset that could reduce my waist size to 16 inches. Since I now measured
18 inches, I had some work to do.

The next couple of weeks went by in a blur. Invitations had to be
mailed; the church booked, flowers ordered, caterer hired, etc. Most of
the decisions were out of my hands, but I helped where I could.

With 2 weeks to go, the dress maker arrived for a fitting.� I had
reduced my waist by another inch, so I still had one more inch to go. The
dress maker wanted to let out the bodice a bit to ensure I would be able to
get into it for the wedding. Edward's mother would have none of it. She
insisted that I would be down to 16 inches by the wedding, so 16 inches it
was.

I saw little of Edward the last couple of weeks. He was busy clearing
his slate so we could go on our honeymoon. He wouldn't tell me where we
were going, so I had to be patient. Finally, the big day came.� The dress
had arrived the day before, with the corset, petticoats, train, lace gloves
and veil. It had taken three people to bring in all the boxes.� My morning
was taken up getting ready.� My hair was trimmed and curled, my nails
professionally manicured and my makeup expertly applied. By this time,
the wedding was only 2 hours away. It was time to get into the dress.

I was attached to the lacing bar and stretched until my toes barely hit
the floor. The white satin corset was wrapped around my body and the
lacing began. It took almost an hour and a great deal of pain before the
maids, urged on by my future MotherinLaw, before the 16 inch goal was
achieved. I could barely breathe. In fact, I had fainted twice during the
process, but was brought round with smelling salts.

Once the corset was tied off and the excess lace trimmed, the lacing bar
was lowered.� The pain increased as my body tried to settle, but had
nowhere to go. After a short break, my feet were shoehorned into a pair of
satin ballet slippers with heels. This forced me to walk on my toes. I
was pretty used to this, so I didn't complain. Then the petticoats were
applied. First a very tight one and then 10 or 12 more with increasing
fullness until they stretched to about four feet all around me. Next a
pair of shoulder length lace gloves was drawn up my arms.� They were very
tight and were held up with a wide ribbon that went over my shoulders to my
neck where they were attached to a collar that was tied at the back of my
neck. Then the dress was dropped over my head. My arms were fed into the
sleeves and the bodice was tugged into place. There were about 50 small
pearl buttons down the back that took the maids about fifteen minutes to
close. The train was attached to the dress underneath the bow and the veil
was attached to my hair with a number of pins and combs. Finally, the
blusher was dropped over my face and down to my elbows. Because the veil
was lace, it was quite difficult to see.� I was finally ready, and not a
minute too soon, as the limo had just pulled up outside. We didn't have
time for me to walk down the stairs, so the limo driver and another male
staff member, carried me down and out to the limo. I was hustled into the
car and we sped off to the church. The limo drove into a courtyard behind
the church, where I was helped out.� Even at the church, I didn't get a
glimpse of the outside world.

I was led into an ante room where final adjustments were made by
Edward's mother and his two sisters who were my bride's maids. The rest of
the day is just a blur. The service was thankfully short, and then we were
whisked into the limo for the drive to the reception, which was being held
back at the estate.�

There was a reception line, speeches, a meal and finally Edward and I
danced. Then, after I threw the bouquet, we left to get dressed for our
honeymoon. Edward still wouldn't tell me where we were going.

My maids got me out of the wedding dress and into a gown with a heavily
embroidered, chocolate velvet bodice and a raw silk skirt. Accompanying it
was a matching cape, gloves and shoes. It was beautiful but would have
looked more in place in the 1850's then today. I had never worried about
this before, because I was always inside the walls of the estate, but the
honeymoon would take me out into the real world, or so I thought. When I
mentioned my concern to Edward, he told me not to worry.

When we were ready, we said our final goodbyes and climbed into the
limo once again. We drove for about fifteen minutes before turning into
what looked like a private airport. The limo went right into a hanger
where we were dropped off beside a Lear jet. Edward helped me up the
stairs and we settled down into the most comfortable plane seats I had ever
sat in. We taxied to the runway and took off.

The excitement of the day got the better of me and I fell asleep. I
awoke to Edward's gentle pat, and he said "We are here.� Time to get up".
We climbed out of the plane and found ourselves in another hanger. A limo
was waiting there for us. We climbed in and off we went. Edward finally
told me where we were. We were in Switzerland, heading to one of his
family's many private estates.

When we arrived, we went through a gate in a high wall and up the drive
to the portico at the front of the mansion. Once again, I had had no
chance to view the outside world, except through a tinted limo window.

Over the next 2 months, we traveled to five other estates, in five
different parts of the world.� Edward explored each one, but I was confined
to the grounds. Edward explained to me, that in his society, women did not
leave the sanctity of their estates at all. So, he wasn't trying to be
mean, it was just the way things were done.

When we finally returned, Edward took me to our new home. It was
similar to his parent's home and only a couple of blocks away.

The first couple of weeks were spent organizing.� It took the maids a
considerable amount of time to get my wardrobe unpacked and then we had to
go over everything to make sure it still fit my 16 inch waist.

That's how I came to be Jasmine and to being Edward's wife. I love my
life and wouldn't go back for anything.

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Saturday, July 31, 2004

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Thursday, July 29, 2004

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This file is a part of Elf Sternberg's Collected Works on . The
complete archive of Elf's work can be found on his website at:

drizzle/~elf

The author can be contacted at:

mailto:elfdrizzle



Embassy Tales: Terran Sands

Journal Entry 002 / 00100

Seren, Narrin 01, 00100

January 02, 1984

"So how do you like that outfit?" M'Cadarra asked.

"It's worse than the other one," R'Dam sighed. "And yours?"

"Mine isn't quite so accurate, but it does fit me." M'Cadarra's own tuxedo
appeared to be two sizes too large for him, but that was mostly due to
the fur underneath it. R'Dam had finally decided to go with Pendorian
slippers rather than the hard shoes the Terrans had supplied him. They
had the right color and he hoped they would pass. R'Dam examined himself
in the mirror. He wished desperately for the freedom to go back to the
ship, but the decision to restrict SDisk use on the ground to emergency
purposes had been one of his ideas. He would live with it. They could get
back to the ship in the blink of an eye but there was no sense letting
the Terrans know that.

"What did Joshua say?" the M'Cadarra asked.

"Joshua thinks you're doing well," the AI replied from the small radio
in R'Dam's pocket. "I am quite impressed by your current negotiations. I
have been warned that these humans you two are dealing with are among
the most devious on the planet and so far most of what they intend has
been very obvious. I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to be watching
out for." He chuckled. "Should I accompany you?"

"I'll take the communicator," R'Dam replied, sliding it into his pocket.
"These people are just now getting used to streaming cellular telecomm
but I'm sure I can convince them it's a necessity."

"Indeed," M'Cadarra replied. "I feel naked without a weapon."

"Uncia," R'Dam sighed, giving his old friend a grin.

"Satryls," M'Cadarra chuckled, giving R'Dam's ear a briefly painful tweak.
"Let us go meet our transport."

"It's called a limousine."

"Whatever," the Uncia replied. "I'm here to protect you, not learn the
local language."

They made their way down to the hotel lobby. Washington denizens long
jaded by the presence of kings and princes, tyrants and dictators turned
to gawk at the imposing feline presence of M'Cadarra as the two strode
through. The Terran at the door was efficient and they soon found
themselves being whisked down the road in their car. "It's a shame,
really," M'Cadarra said. "All this energy built into being impressive
rather than being efficient or fun. Such a waste all their petrochemicals
gone into transportation rather than manufacturing, for example.

"The humans have a saying. 'The eye that sees the past sees perfectly.' If
we have a chance to change their course by showing them a working future
I think we should take it."

"Perhaps," the Uncia said. "And perhaps it would be best to let the
humans learn for themselves what they need to know."

"And if they don't before they drown?" R'Dam asked.

"I don't think they'll drown."

All through the conversation the human assigned to guard and escort them
appeared to keep his stare fixed out the window. R'Dam turned to him.
"Agent Murray?"

"Hmm?" the young man asked. Although on this detail for only two days
now, already he had the practiced air of someone who had worked with
aliens his entire life.

"Is my conversing in our native tongue disturbing you?"

"I figure you have something to talk about. Don't let me interrupt you.
Like I said, I'm just here to make sure you don't get hurt or lost."

"I appreciate that, Agent Murray."

They arrived at yet another impressively massive structure designed to
impose on its viewers the notion of authority. R'Dam had to admit he
felt intimidated. There were certainly structures as large as this in
a few places on Pendor and he had seen several of them in person. But
in what some people already called the Hurried Century there had
been little thought put towards anything other than the elegantly
utilitarian. Even the Tangent Arcology, for all its massive size and
outstanding engineering, stood little more than a gleaming brick over
a lovely lake. It was, a friend of his had pointed out, something that
typically appealed to the male aesthetic.

After being checked through a security detail (his identify was little
in doubt) he was led by a hostess in an exquisitely tailored black dress
through a pair of open doors. A gentleman clearly marked by the effects
of geriatry raised his head and introduced them. "Dam Reinrau of Pendor
and security detail."

R'Dam bowed politely to the announcer, a gesture he noticed upon standing
seemed unexpected. He was not yet used to the customs of Terrans and
regarded their structure of respect to be wildly out of proportion. The
man had done his job. He deserved acknowledgement. The Terrans seemed
to treat him as if he were a doorknob rather than a doorman.

He was relieved when he spotted Ambassador D'Gen. She walked over to
him and kissed his cheek in a familiar fashion; they had been lovers
on board the Main for a brief time and he still regarded her with a
friendly eye. "Joshua tells me all is well," she said, touching his
wrist in reassurance. "And I have faith in you, Dam."

He gave her his best smile. "Thanks, Genelina. I appreciate that."

Music began and some began to use the center of the main floor to dance.
Around him shuffled a great many people; a few spoke to him, thanked
for him coming. None asked him a direct question.

None, that is, until a voice behind him asked, "Aren't you terribly
bored with all this?"

"How could I get bored?" he asked, turning around. "I've never seen
anything like this before in my life. And how are you this evening,
Rebecca?"

The junior trade representative he had met that morning smiled back at
him. "I'm so glad you remember my name, R'Dam. Not too bad. I am finally
bored of this. You don't have anything like this on Pendor?"

He shook his head. "We have parties, sure, but nothing to match the
what is the phrase you used when we parted this afternoon?"

"Pomp and circumstance?"

"Yes, that. I'm astounded by the extension of detail performed here,
the unnecessary steps taken to make your leaders look more important
than they obviously are."

Surprised by his comments, she replied, "This is how we know they're
important."

"And not by their actions?"

"Well, that too, but this is a kind of reminder."

"I guess we have better memories." He smiled to her. "If you are so
bored with this, why are you still here?"

"The food is good," she replied with a grin. And then a sigh. "And I
have nowhere else to go. There's home, with twenty channels of nothing
on the television and a stack of paperwork a mile high, I suppose,
but that's not really an option."

He looked at her. In a slinky black dress that seemed to pour itself over
her body as she moved yet managed to hide every one of her suggestive
charms effectively, she looked very lovely. She had been tough and
effective this morning but friendly when not directly discussing matters
on the table. He couldn't imagine her without companionship. "No friends?
Family? Beloveds?"

"In this town?" She gave a short, brittle laugh. "There's no time for
things like that and, besides, the people I could run into around here
are more interested in me for how close I can get to the President,
not in me."

R'Dam found the thought of her being so lonely very sad. Loneliness on
Terra, he realized, was part of a terrible compromise. Competition for
the scarce physical necessities turned the emotional necessities into a
kind of commodity all their own. The people spinning before him on the
darkened floor did not like one another; they were all, in one way or
another, posturing for more. More what? he wondered. What, exactly, was
Terran prosperity for? He suddenly wanted to get out of there. "Rebecca,
how late will this party run?"

"Until about one in the morning, I imagine."

"After sunrise Oh, I forget. Your middle of the night is your first
hour. We count our time from sunrise and sunset. That will be..."

"About three hours from now," she said. "I never did find out if you
understood how long an hour is?"

"It is an hour long," R'Dam replied with a smile. He was grateful for
her attention even if he was not convinced she liked him. "Our hours
are exactly as long as yours."

"Exactly?" she asked, surprised.

"Exactly."

"How does that work?" She seemed earnestly curious, but then stifled a
yawn. "Oh, sorry."

"You are bored with this," he said, gesturing to the room. She nodded.
"That's good. I'm not at all impressed by this, either. I am suddenly
finding it rather... sad, in a way."

She grinned. "Listen, you've been granted temporary diplomatic visas,
right?" R'Dam nodded. "Are you under any movement restrictions?"

"I don't believe so. At the moment we have many of the rights of
traditional Embassy personnel. I believe agent Murray over there was
assigned to us mostly for our own concern rather than to protect citizens
from us."

"Wait here." She walked over to where the agent was standing and spoke
to him for a moment. R'Dam saw the unmistakable expression of frustration
cross his usually expressionless face but finally he seemed to relent. She
walked back to R'Dam and said, "So, would you like to go somewhere a
little quieter?"

"Where would that be?"

"I know this fabulous little cafe just a couple of blocks from here. I
go there for breakfast once in a while and I think they're open until
midnight."

"I had better check with my people, then." He pulled out the communicator
from his pocket. "Joshua? I'm going out of M'Cadarra's custody. Yes, I'll
keep the phone with me. Yes, Rebecca Inderson, the Associate Secretary
of State for Interstellar Trade. Thanks." He smiled at her. "I am yours,
Rebecca."

"Becky, please, R'Dam. And No, I suppose you're right. It is
Interstellar Trade now, isn't it?"

Recovering their coats, they emerged from the noisy party into the wintry
cold of a Washington night in January. A light snow had begun to fall,
adding to the already white grounds of Kennedy Center. The chill muffled
the sounds of the city and seemed to bring both of them closer to one
another. "Does it snow on Pendor?" she asked.

R'Dam found the question amusing. "That depends on where you live. Snow
falls in most places. It snows most on the edges and it almost never
snows in the middle."

"The middle?" she asked. "You mean, like the equator?"

Realizing he had almost let that secret drop early, he recovered. "Yes,
that's the word I want. The equator."

"It doesn't sound much different from Earth."

"It isn't meant to be," he said. "There are some differences. When your
people come to our world the differences will become more apparent. The
land is very much like Earth's. But it's not Earth in many significant
respects."

They reached the cafe and she led him inside. She asked the waitress for
a booth. The waitress did a double take at the sight of R'Dam's tail and
curious gait but she said nothing. "I still don't understand the Pendorian
concept of being rich," Becky said, continuing their conversation from
that morning.

"It's actually not hard to understand. Being rich on Pendor isn't about
having a lot of things, it's about having something to do every day that
makes you happy and makes those around you admire what you do."

"But how do you measure that?"

"Every fen has to measure that in their own way."

The waitress approached. Becky ordered coffee for both of them before
continuing. "Doesn't that mean some people abuse the system? I mean, how
do you make sure that someone isn't taking more than their fair share?"

He shrugged. "There are a few who don't do anything. Very few, actually.
They're looked after; we see to it that they have enough food and water,
a roof over their heads and so on. Don't you look after your mentally
ill here on Earth?"

"Well, yes, but we don't think of those who don't have to work as
mentally ill."

"Maybe you should." Their coffees arrived. He sipped his cautiously. "It's
strong. Oh, no, this doesn't have caffeine in it, does it?"

"Of course," she said. "Why? Is that bad?"

"It's poisonous to my kind." He looked up at the waitress. "Could you
bring me a glass of milk? Large, please. She didn't know coffee makes
me..."

"He's allergic to it," Becky offered.

"Sure. It'll still be on your tab, though."

"That's okay," Becky said. "My mistake."

"I think this is one of those places where our cultures are fundamentally
at odds," R'Dam continued after the waitress had left. "You work your
entire lives in order to achieve a state where you need not work. We
spend our lives at a slower pace. We don't expect our children to begin
serious work until they're well into their third decade. When they do
we're usually very proud of them and that is payment enough." The waitress
returned with his milk and he took a long draught before continuing. "You
think you have to work because you all think there isn't enough for you.
So you have to fight for what you need. We don't. So we struggle only
for what we want."

Becky nodded as she sipped at her coffee. They were silent for a while
before she said, "I suppose that makes sense. There must not be many
people on your world."

"We have a little under three million people. Less than the population
of this city. But we aren't worried. We doubt there will be the kind of
resource pressure you on Earth have always worried about." The waitress
dropped off the tab. R'Dam reached into a pocket and carefully examined
the bills he held until he had found the right amount. Becky examined the
amount, frowned, and put in another dollar. "Did I get the amount wrong?"

"You paid for the coffee but you didn't leave a tip. Payment for
services."

"Oh. How is that calculated?"

"Ten to fifteen percent of the amount."

"Curious." He felt the expression of disapproval cross his face, and
he noticed her see it. She didn't comment. Instead, she placed her hand
over his on the counter. "R'Dam, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Yes," he replied quickly.

"Are you married?"

He laughed. "We don't marry on Pendor. We have contractual
relationships for raising children and what organized efforts there are
exist to supply the needs of families raising children, not 'marriages.'
If people want to live together that is their decision. If they want
that relationship publicly recognized they are welcome to involve the
community in that decision and can encourage the community to help them
remain together through difficulties. And no, I'm not in a monogamous
relationship right now."

"Oh." Becky shook her head. "What about physical relations? Can you
have them with humans?"

He paused. She was clearly heading in a direction he hadn't anticipated.
He had been told that humans typically did not get involved with
physical intimacy without a great deal of subtle and somewhat underhanded
negotiating, often in conditions where neither knew what the other had
to offer and apparently never about what each brought to bed. He thought
about his next few words carefully. "Becky, are you asking me if I can
go home with you or if I will go home with you?"

"Both," she sighed.

"I can, and I would like to, if you would invite me."

She hesitated. "Why don't you walk me home? Your people can direct you
back to the hotel if you need to go back, right?"

"I believe that's within Joshua's capabilities."

Now it was her turn to look puzzled. "You were talking to him on your
cell phone, weren't you? Who is Joshua?"

"The ship's computer." He pointed skyward.

"Oh. He speaks English?"

"He speaks a lot of languages, actually. Hi's very talented. Not terribly
creative, but that's not an AI speciality."

"Oh." The waitress took the check and the cash. "Okay, let's go." They
both rose. Making their way through the snowbound sidewalks, both were
silent as she again led the way, this time to her apartment. "This is it.
Want to come inside and see?"

"I'd enjoy that." She unlocked the door and led him into the old
brownstone building. The walked up a flight of stairs and turned a left,
coming to apartment 2C. She unlocked that door as well and led him inside.

"Sorry about the mess," she said.

He examined her home slowly. It was small with an old centerstand
table, painted yellow, dominating the center of the room. It had two
stacks of files on it. A bookshelf lined one wall and a video display
a television, he corrected himself, a readonly video device with very
limited selection options occupied a corner. Two posters occupied the
walls. A kitchen jutted out along one wall, separated from the room they
had entered by a bar of sorts. There were three chairs about the table.
Facing the television was a large couch in black leather. It looked
wellworn but undamaged. A door led off somewhere, he guessed to the
bedroom. "It has more room than my cabin on the ship," he said. "And I
have to share mine with a roommate. But my cabin was not as cluttered,
perhaps. That may be because books are heavy but data is light. We have
many terminals."

"I can imagine," she said. "Look, this is probably going to sound really
stupid but, you're like, a cat... man from the waist down, right? So,
I mean, is your, um, you know, is it barbed?"

He laughed aloud for several seconds. "No, it's not. It's not on real
cats, either. That's a myth. There's a ridge of cartilage there but
it's not a real barb. That comes from veterinarians examining the penis
after death, when there's been some drying and it looks like a barb. We
anticipated that question." He glanced at her, not sure what to say next.
"I guess if you want to see for yourself, I could..."

"No, that's okay. Not right now," she replied hurriedly. "I mean..." She
approached him slowly. "What would it be like?"

"I don't know," he replied, his mouth suddenly dry. "I've never had a
Terran lover. I might even be the first. Short of whomever Shardik has
slept with."

"R'Dam, you can't make me pregnant, can you?"

"No," he said. "Nor can I have any diseases that I can pass on to you,
nor you to me."

"That's good," she said. "I hadn't thought about that."

He reached down and placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up. He
watched her eyes and waited for her to say something as the distance
closed between them. His lips touched hers ever so softly and she pulled
him in hard, holding the two of them close as she kissed him. He heard her
breath catch in her throat and felt her arms encircle his waist entirely.

"Maybe it's time we moved to the bedroom," she suggested.

"Maybe it is," he agreed. She led him through a narrow door. Her bed was
queensized, in his experience large for one but barely large enough to
hold two comfortably. He realized that he didn't know much about the
clothing he wore and might have to ask her help to get out of it. He
also realized that he didn't know how to proceed with her. A Pendorian
fem and he would have some idea about what they wanted before they got
into the bedroom. Here, he was out of the realm of the theoretical.

He could also see apprehension coloring her brown, human eyes. She was as
out of her realm as he. She swallowed. "I don't normally bring home men
on a first date," she said softly. "I just I guess I dared myself. Maybe
it's a bad dare."

"What did you dare yourself?"

She giggled. "You were right, back at the party. I haven't had a boyfriend
in a long time. I was thinking about that this afternoon for different
reasons than our meeting this morning. A friend was talking about her
boyfriend troubles and I was wishing I had a boyfriend to have troubles
with. For some reason I thought of you and I thought it would be a hoot
to be the first human to sleep with an alien. Guess you're not all that
alien, are you?"

He was touched that she allowed him that kind of intimacy, even if her
motives weren't entirely about her liking him. "Alien enough," he murmured
with a smile. "We can if you still want, Becky. I promise to be gentle.
And you've been very lovely to me so far." He placed his hands on the
thin straps that held her evening gown in place. He lifted them from
her shoulders and slowly allowed them to fall down her arms. The gown
clung to her breasts, refusing to fall completely without his help. He
gave it that help while he kissed her.

She giggled. "I can't believe you said that."

"What?"

"'I promise to be gentle.' Do you know how cliched that sounds?" She
laughed. "No, I guess you wouldn't, would you?"

"Do Terran men say it often?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to reply, then stopped. Then, "No, actually. I don't
think I've heard anyone say it to me ever. Not even the creep who I lost
my virginity to."

"Then how can it be a cliche?" he asked, taking her hand. She responded
with a kiss. The two of them sunk down onto the bed as his lips kissed
her throat. Hands wrestled with clothing as he slowly pushed her dress
down the length of her body. Her hands found the buttons holding his
shirt closed. Fingers worked feverishly. R'Dam was surprised by the
intensity radiating off her. "Becky?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she said.

"I don't know how I got into these clothes. I'm going to need some help
getting out."

He watched her try to hold back a laugh. She failed. "I know that
feeling," she said. "Here, let me help." He watched as she found the
clasp for the cummerbund and tossed it aside. He kicked off the shoes
those, at least, he knew how to deal with. The tie was easy enough and he
managed to get the shirt off without much difficulty. "There's looptape
in the back where the tailor made room for the tail."

"I see it. We call it Velcro."

"That's a brand name. We couldn't use it."

"I thought you weren't involved directly in the trade negotiations,"
she said mockingly.

"I still must keep track. It's my job," he said as he finally managed
to toss the shirt aside. He reached down and eased himself out of the
restrictive pants he had been wearing for far too long.

Becky gasped. "I I didn't realize ."

R'Dam had a tiger's coloration; soft tinges of orange fur reached up his
cheeks almost touching his eyes, then disappeared down the back of his
neck to spread into denser patterns on his shoulders and arms, thinning
again only as they reached the back of his hand and fingers. A narrow band
of the same orange complimented his pale skin down his back to his waist,
where it spread out to become thicker. Becky had seen the fur on his
face and his hands and she had seen his tail. The sight of his legs with
their very feline shape and their dense fur had given her pause. Hanging
between those powerful thighs was a short sheath of fur from which emerged
an averagesized manhood. It wasn't a completely human cock, however;
most men had a clear delineation between the head and the shaft of it,
but on R'Dam that clear line was just a slight change of coloration.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Just surprised. Sorry, never saw a naked alien before."
She laughed nervously.

"I've never seen a naked alien before, either. Naked humans, yes, but
never a naked Terran."

She laughed and pushed the dress over her hips, revealing the rest of
her body to his eyes.

He looked her over appreciatively. She had the pale skin of someone
living through a long winter, but that pale skin accentuated the dark
tangle of pubic hair between her thighs. It was a shade darker than the
brown on her head. Her body was shapely, if a little hard around the
edges. He wondered why anyone whose job kept her indoors and sessile
would have such little fat. He worried if she ate well. For all that,
she was very pretty, and he said so.

"Thanks," she replied, blushing.

He turned over, placing his hands on her thighs and pulling her even
closer to him. "I mean that sincerely. You are very pretty, Becky."

"You're a very handsome man?"

"Mel," he replied. "It's generic for a male person."

"Mel, then." They rolled together on the bed until he found himself
lying on top of her, between her thighs. Her warm skin pressed itself
against his body. He smiled down at her but the look he saw in her eyes
was less pleasure and more apprehension. He knew this wasn't going to
be the easiest night of his life.

"Becky?"

"I just it starts to feel weirder by the second. I'm not used to being
in this position."

"Well, let me" He started to move.

"No, that's not what I mean," she said abruptly. "What I meant was I
hadn't expected it to feel so weird, you having that fur and all. I just "

"Let me do something that'll feel more normal, then," he said, sliding
down between her thighs. He let out a sigh of relief to see that the
construction of her sex was just like those of Satryls and other bipeds
he had known on Pendor. That, at least, was reassuring.

He kissed her sex directly, lips meeting lips through a thicket of dense
pubic hair that trapped a scent he found intoxicating. Inhaling deeply,
he savored the perfume of her body. "Fah, you smell good," he gasped.

With a finger he parted her matted pubic hair and exposed the pale lips
hidden underneath. He kissed his way across her lips and Becky rewarded
his efforts with an encouraging moan. He gave her what little skill
he knew he had, enjoying the taste of her sex as his tongue probed
deeply between her lips. The tip encountered a liquid musk he had
never tasted before, at least not the human variety. He buried his
face between her thighs and pressed his mouth directly against her,
his tongue sliding upwards against her clitoris. Her whole body jerked
suddenly and powerfully upwards; he decided to hold off on that again
until later. Instead he concentrated on the rest of her mons, kissing
his way around her outer lips, tasting between them with his tongue,
and caressing the hood of her clitoris with his lips. Little versions
of the reaction she had had earlier shook through her as he listened to
her voice climb in pitch and volume and felt the muscles in her thighs
solidify with preorgasmic tension.

R'Dam appreciated the noises she made. He was doing good. He understood
now just how little he really appreciated the Terran way of life. Such
a complex people; he was so pleased that Becky had invited him into her
night; it gave him a chance to get close and he hoped to make her happy.

He noticed she stopped breathing as her back arched towards the ceiling,
then collapsed as she came with a great tremble, a violent but so silent
climax. "Oh, Dam," she sighed as the tremors subsided. "Stop!"

"Too much?" he asked.

Her answer came in gasps. "After, after I come, yes. Come here?" she
asked, holding her arms out to him. He lunged into her offered embrace
and they fell, kissing and laughing. "Mmm," she moaned. "That was good."

"Oh, good. I was afraid I was losing my skills there for a second."

"Not with a mouth like that. Something in what you did Better than
most."

"I'm pleased," he laughed.

She reached down between his thighs. "I keep getting distracted by all
the fur. It seems so weird." Her hands closed around his cock. "Do you
do just as well with this?"

"That depends," he asked. "On how you like your, um, lovemaking."

"I like it a lot."

"But do you like a lot of it?" he asked.

"Sometimes," she responded. She maneuvered under his shoulder and pushed
him over onto his back so that now she was on top. "Let's see what it
feels like." She knelt over his torso, her hand reaching back to hold
his cock. She stroked him a couple of times. "Hmm, no barb."

"I told you," he said with a grin.

"Let's see if it works as advertised." He felt the warmth of her cunt
surround his cock as she lowered herself onto it, pressing herself down
all the way. She smiled. "I won't have to turn you in to the FTC."

"FTC?"

"Federal Trade Commission. They investigate adverting abuses."

"Oh." He thrust his hips upwards, pushing himself deeper into her. "We'll
discuss business later, yes, Undersecretary?"

"Mmm 'course, Ambassador." She rolled her hips back and forth and his
cock slid inside her. She leaned forward and propped herself with her
hands on his shoulders; he raised his legs to get better leverage. R'Dam
worried about her but tried not to let it show even as the sensations
coursing through him warmed him inside. She could lose her job over this,
he knew. He hoped this experience would be worth it for both of them.

R'Dam touched her breasts and played with her nipples, pinching them
gently as she whimpered. Her eyes were closed, her face was halfway
between ecstasy and pain. She seemed desperate. He knew she was after
something for herself and he was only now incidental to her needs,
but he wanted to come and he couldn't hold himself back much longer.

The bedposts thumped against the wall and he wondered about the neighbors
as her whimpers grew louder and more urgent. Becky was pounding her hips
down upon his sex and he bore back with just as much energy as he could
muster. He fought to keep himself from denying her what she wanted but
the battle wouldn't last long. She had so much energy it coursed through
the two of them. "Becky !" Her name fading into a shout as he came
inside her. Her voice joined his in a triumphant moan that took a long
time to fade from his ears.

She shook her head briefly, then fell over to one side onto the bed. "Oh,
my God," she sighed. "Oh my God."

"Yes," he agreed. "Oh, you were wonderful."

"Was I?" she asked.

"Yes."



A buzzing noise arose in his ears, an annoying sound like that of a
klaxon. It lasted for just a few seconds and then it ended. He turned
over, groaning.

She looked at him, her eyebrows knit in intense puzzlement. "Who"

"Becky?"

"Oh, my God, what have I done?" she said suddenly as she pulled out of
bed, gathering the blanket to cover her nudity. "I..."

He stayed still and watched her, curious. He hadn't anticipated this
reaction out of her in the morning. She blinked a couple of times. "R'Dam.
You're R'Dam." She took a deep breath, sighed, and sank back onto the
mattress. "Damn I hate that. Guess I scared you, huh? I'm sorry."

"You did have me scared there for a moment. What happened?"

She grinned with embarrent. "I have morning amnesia. It's an uncommon
condition but I bet some of your people have it. When I first wake up
in the morning I can't remember anything. Not who I am, not what I did
last night, nothing. It, um, can be scary waking up next to someone
unfamiliar."

"If you lived with someone for a long time would you always be frightened
of them first thing in the morning?"

She shook her head. "My doctor says no. Eventually I get used to it
enough that I remember there's supposed to be someone there even if I
can't remember who it is for a few minutes. It's really bad when I move."

He nodded, reaching out to touch her face with his fingers. "You remember
me now, don't you?"

"I remember everything," she purred softly as she dragged the blanket
over the two of them, kissing him warmly. "I remember you being a very
good introduction to sex and the proper alien."

He kissed her back, appreciative of her attention. She propped herself
up on one elbow, her hair and one breast touching his chest. He stroked
the offered nipple absently as he looked into her eyes. "R'Dam, I think
you should call your people and assure them that you're okay."

He blinked, and then nodded. She was right. All the pleasure between the
two of them could wait; he hoped they would have time to explore more.
"Where's my coat?"

She handed it to him. He dug out his communicator. "Joshua? Yes, I'm still
with Miss Inderson. Yes, I'm fine. Agent Murray and M'Cadarra are where?"
He laughed briefly. "They'll have to wait a little longer. And could you
have street clothes ready for me? Yes, and they'll still have to wait.
Thanks." He stretched so violently Becky watched with alarm. "Everything's
still okay."

She sighed with relief. "I can't believe I did that last night. I could
lose my job over this, even if I'm not negotiating directly with you
personally."

"I can't, either. It's not what we were told to expect from Terrans." He
sat up and wrapped his arms around her. "Still, I'm glad that we did. You
were very wonderful."

She grinned. "Yeah. So were you. So, you want breakfast?"

"At your favorite cafe again?" he asked.

"I cook, if you're willing to wait."

"I can wait then." She removed a robe from a hook on the door and walked
out into the living room. "Can I use the shower?"

"Go for it," she shouted back. "Just don't be in there long. I don't
get a lot of hot water."

He wondered what that meant but decided to take her word for it. He found
her bathroom and was gratified to find that most of the fixtures looked
commonplace enough. The toilet was too solid and uncomfortable for his
liking. The shower was small as well but he decided he could live with it.
He found a bottle of soap and sniffed at it. It smelled of artificial
scents that were supposed to be flowers and grass, but he decided he
could live with that, too. It wasn't nearly as dense as Pendorian body
soaps and he ended up using nearly half the bottle to get clean.

He emerged into the kitchen a few minutes later just as Becky was taking
the first of the pancakes she had made off the stove. "I don't know if
you even like these or what I should give you to put on them."

"Butter and syrup, or so I'm told." He smiled.

She grinned at him, but then a look of confusion crossed her expression.
"I don't get this at all," she sighed, dropping the skillet onto the stove
noisily. "I would expect us to be, you know, awkward with each other.
Instead, you make it seem like it's such a wonderful thing, that there's
nothing to worry about."

"There isn't anything to worry about, is there?" He held her shoulders.
"Trust me, making love to you isn't going to change my actions at the
table. And if the Russians make us a better deal, well I'll be sorry,
but I'll go where the negotiating is good."

"Then you'd better believe that we have the best manufacturing base on
Earth, Mister Meow, because you won't get a better deal anywhere else
in the galaxy."

He chuckled. "I believe you. By the way, when the ships leave in two
months, I won't be going with them. I'm staying here as part of the
permanent staff. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No," she said. "You are so refreshing, you know?"

"I believe you if you say so." He smiled.

She served breakfast, he ate heartily. She ate hardly at all. "You're
not hungry?"

"Still worried about what'll happen if my boss finds out I slept with
a negotiator."

He took a deep breath. "Well, according to Joshua, the Secret Service
knows."

"What?" she asked, suddenly panicked.

He nodded. "He told me that Agent Murray was aware of my location."

She buried her head in her hands. "Oh, no."

"He also told me that after extensively interviewing Agent Murray that
there was no way the agent was going to inform your boss. Apparently,
that's why they call it the Secret Service."

She sighed. "I hope you're right."

"I hope so too. I would hate for you to lose your job."

A knock came from the front door. "Who is that?"

"I believe that is Agents Murray and M'Cadarra with a change of clothing
for me." He squeezed her hand gently. "Trust us."

She took a deep breath. "Let's get on with the day."




Original document is available from:
drizzle/~elf/journals

The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are 19892000 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Distribution limited
to electronic media notforprofit use only. All other rights are reserved
to the author.

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