Chapter 7: Integrated Learning Platform

P: 37 M: 39 S: 28

--Thursday, 27^th May, 1999--

Early hours of the morning...

My head spun in a haze, a perfect storm of lust, alcohol and intense sensation. I was lying face up on my bed, Debbie astride my hips, Jessica kneeling over my face. The two girls’ lips made wet smacking sounds as they kissed while riding me, moaning and sighing softly, sometimes giggling. I didn’t know how long we’d been at it, and I didn’t care. I never wanted tonight to end.

“Is his cock good in your hot little pussy?” Jessica was asking Debbie. She pushed herself down more firmly on my face, and I licked her slit from the hard button at the peak of her labia, down to her hole, where I speared my tongue into her channel. She made an approving moan when I did.

“Yeah!” Debbie breathed, her grinding becoming more urgent.

“You look so good riding him like a little slut!” Jessica told her. A slap reverberated through the air, and Debbie cried out in surprise, though her voice was thick with arousal. “Are you a little slut?” It turned out that Jessica was quite dominant in bed, more so with Debbie than me, but it only served to turn me on further.

“Yes!” Debbie replied, groaning as the pressure over my waist increased. She was really starting to go for it, now.

“Say it!” Jessica ordered. “Say you’re a little slut!” Another slap, from the direction of Debbie’s arse, I thought. It was a good one for slapping, round and plump.

“I’m a little slut!” Debbie cried, then whimpered as her body stiffened.

“Yeah, cum for me, slut!” Jessica urged. “Cum on that big cock!” Calling it big was generous, though I wasn’t about to say anything. A sweet tightness enveloped my dick as Debbie came, and the feeling pushed me to my own edge. I cried out into Jessica’s pussy as I erupted into Debbie. There was no need to be concerned; both girls had assured me earlier they were on birth control.

My body went limp once my orgasm subsided, even though my cock stayed hard. Whatever Dianne had done to me, my sexual endurance was really something. I’d cum three times, now, and even though my body was tired from the sex, my dick remained ready for more.

Debbie uttered a satisfied sigh and fell off me, flopping down onto the bed beside me. Jessica clambered off my face and spun around to throw a slim thigh over my waist. She was already grasping my shaft and aiming it at her pussy when Debbie leaned over to kiss me, uncaring about the juices on my face, courtesy of Jessica.

We shared a sweet, deep kiss, the moment somehow feeling as if it were just the two of us, despite Jessica impaling herself on me at the same time.

“Fuck!” the slim beauty moaned thickly as she came to rest with me fully embedded inside her. Her pussy felt different to Debbie’s; not quite as tight but just as hot and wet. “That’s really good.” Her words were only slightly slurred from the alcohol we’d imbibed tonight.

“Having fun?” Debbie whispered in my ear as she snuggled up beside me. I met her eyes, but she turned my face toward Jessica, wanting me to watch her. “She’s so hot, isn’t she?”

I stared up at Jessica, her slender yet well-stacked frame illuminated by the light from my bedside lamps. She eyed me hotly as she began to undulate. “Yeah, she really is,” I agreed with a grunt as she stirred my cock in her delicious depths.

“I like watching you fuck her,” Debbie went on, sending my arousal through the roof. “Grab her tits.”

I obeyed, collecting two handfuls of soft, pale flesh. For a slim girl, her breasts looked quite big on her frame, dominating her chest. She sighed as I palmed them firmly.

“I’m glad I met you guys tonight,” she confessed as she rode me. She was in no hurry; we’d been at this for a while, now.

“Same!” Debbie chirped, looking up at her. I chimed in with my own agreement, which came in the form of a deep groan. I thought I might be in danger of total overstimulation.

“I think Jake feels the same,” Debbie added with a giggle. Jessica grinned, too, and then Debbie was on the move, getting to her knees and settling in beside Jessica. I watched as the two girls began to kiss again. Debbie’s hands did not sit idle; she trailed one down Jessica’s flat belly to her smooth mound. Jessica squealed in pleasure as Debbie slipped a finger between our bodies and stimulated the other woman’s clit, which immediately set her to bucking her hips urgently, wanting more.

“Oh, fuck!” Jessica cried, seizing Debbie’s face with both hands and smashing their mouths together harder. In no time, Jessica was cumming again, her pussy squeezing me until I thought I would pop right out of her. I felt the pressure building again in my lower belly, my balls tightening with another eruption. I let loose without trying to hold back, pumping whatever was left in my overworked balls into Jessica’s clenching pussy.

Jessica fell forward, collapsing onto my chest as she caught her breath, and Debbie resumed her position beside me, one arm over Jessica’s back. I rested my hand on Jessica’s arse, squeezing gently as my throbbing cock quieted inside her.

“You guys are so bad,” Jessica mumbled into my neck.

“You can talk,” Debbie said with a chuckle. “Calling me a slut and all that!” Her words were chased by a stiff yawn.

Jessica laughed softly. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. I hope that was okay?”

“Yeah, it was alright,” Debbie said around another yawn. “I’ve never been into that sort of thing, but it was hot in the moment.”

Jessica made a soft noise in response, and I realised she was falling asleep. I, too, was suddenly having trouble keeping my eyes open. A minute later, we were all sleeping soundly, pulled under by exhaustion, a skinful of liquor and sexual gratification.

I woke up feeling a little less than excellent. Offensive sunlight streamed in through my bedroom windows, making me squint blearily as I returned to the waking world. My head was aching slightly, and I had a bad taste in my mouth. It took a few moments to work out why, but then memories of last night crashed home, flashes and impressions of drinking, Debbie going down on me in the limo, then the VIP room at the Palace, then...

Debbie and Jessica, naked in my bed, with me. Holy shit! I’d been in a full-blown three-way! Excitedly, I looked to either side, but found myself alone. Had the girls left already? Last night wasn’t some insane hallucination, was it? A cold feeling crept into my stomach at the notion of enduring some kind of Dianne-induced psychosis, but I relaxed when I heard plates clattering in the kitchen.

Yes, it was all very real, and Debbie or Jessica – or both – were in the kitchen making breakfast. Smiling giddily, I hopped out of bed and left my room, not bothering to put pants on, my morning wood on full display. My confidence after last night was at an all-time high, and I was loving it. I was pulled up short, however, when I entered the living area from my room and looked across at the kitchen, where behind the dark marble breakfast bar that divided the two rooms, a woman I’d never seen before stood frozen with a dish in her hands, her mouth agape.

“Who are you?” I blurted, hurriedly covering myself with my hands. At the same time, she quickly turned her back on me.

“Um, shite!” she said, flustered. “I didn’t know you were- I mean, you weren’t supposed to be home.” She spoke quickly, and her accent was from the UK somewhere, unless I was mistaken. Scotland, maybe. With dark skin like that, Scotland was the last place I’d expect her to come from, but then what I knew about Scotland couldn’t feed a sparrow. Either way, the thick accent made her difficult to understand. “Hazard of the job, I suppose,” she added with an awkward chuckle. At least, I thought that’s what she said.

“What? What job?” I demanded as I backed into my bedroom and hid most of my body in the doorway, leaving my head sticking out.

“I’m the cleaner,” she replied, chancing a look over her shoulder to see me poking out the door like a startled, somewhat indignant fox from its den. “I clean on Thursdays.”

“Well, I didn’t get that memo,” I said, frowning at her. She was quite pretty, really, with a mass of curly, dark hair atop her head that fell to her shoulders. I couldn’t tell much else about her from here, not with the bar blocking most of my view. Anyway, I was too annoyed at the intrusion to care much, right now. That, and I was also miffed there was no sign of Debbie or Jessica anywhere; from where I stood, I could see the whole apartment except for the bedroom and bathroom behind me, and the spare room and laundry down the hall. The girls could be in the latter two rooms, but that was doubtful.

“Sorry,” she said. “Would you like me to go? I’ve done the shopping, and the place is still quite neat, so I can return next week to do the rest?”

“You do my shopping as well?” I asked, intrigued, but I shook my head, not wanting to get distracted. “Wait. Who pays you? Who gave you this job?” Stupid question.

“A place called United Home Services employs me,” she replied. “I deal with a woman called Gloria. She gives me the jobs to do, and I do them.”

Not quite the answer I expected, except that Gloria was involved. Unless it was a different Gloria, but I would believe that when I learned how to fly. United Home Services, huh? “Right,” I said absently as I thought about whether to send her home or not. “I’m going to have a shower and get dressed. You can finish up, seeing as you’re nearly done.”

“Very good, Mr. London,” the girl – she was a few years older than me, I thought – replied. “I’ll do the bathroom and bedroom next time, then?”

“Oh, right,” I muttered. “One second.” I disappeared into my room and threw on a pair of loose shorts and a black shirt. “You can do them today,” I said when I emerged. If having girls over was going to become a thing, I wanted the place looking tidy. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Thank you, Mr. London,” she said with a smile, finally turning all the way around to look at me. Straight white teeth flashed behind plump, dark lips, and large, obsidian eyes regarded me from an oval, dimple-cheeked face that was outright lovely. There was an unmistakable spark of mischief in those eyes, too. I couldn’t tell much from where she was standing, and because she had a baggy black shirt on, but I thought she might be a full-figured woman.

“Jake,” I prompted, disarmed by that smile. I felt my irritation melting away.

“Oh! Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, beaming as she hurried round the bar and crossed the room to offer me a hand. My suspicions about her figure appeared to be correct. She wore loose black trousers to go with the shirt, so her exact shape wasn’t obvious, but I could tell she was plump, especially in the chest and bottom. I didn’t mind one bit.

“You wouldn’t believe how boring it gets calling everyone ‘Mr. This and Mrs. That.’” She put on a mock-posh accent to enunciate the names, and it made me smile. I took her hand and shook it gently. “I’m Jade,” she added. “Almost the same, right?”

It took me a second to decipher what she meant. “Oh, right!” I replied. “Jake and Jade. I get it.” I released her hand and stuck my hands in my pockets as I felt my old friend Mr. Social Awkwardness enter the room. Whatever improvements Dianne had made to me, my ineptitude at maintaining conversations with people – especially attractive women – was still apparent. Last night it hadn’t been a problem, but then I’d had alcohol on my side. After an excruciating silence, Jade announced she was off to tidy up my quarters. Grateful to be done with the exchange, and cursing my social autism, I made for the kitchen.

“Oh, Jake?” Jade’s head popped out of my room as I was preparing my food. “Two girls left just after I arrived. They said to say goodbye. They didn’t want to wake you.”

“Uh, thanks,” I replied, embarrassed. Jade’s eyes turned considering before she vanished again. So, that’s what had happened to Debbie and Jessica. Why hadn’t they woken me? I at least thought Debbie and I were forming something more than just a couple of sexual encounters. Maybe I’d been wrong about that? The thought made me a little sad.

“Want me to do your sheets?” Jade called from the bedroom.

I felt a moment of panic. Those sheets must be soaked in sexual fluids! “Uh, no! That’s okay! I’ll do them later!”

Her curly head came back out. “Not to worry, Jake. No need to be embarrassed. I’m a cleaner, yeah? I’ve seen things that’d make your hair curlier than mine. This is no bother.” Without waiting for my answer, she disappeared again.

This girl – woman, really – was certainly not like any cleaner I’d ever heard of. Then again, I hadn’t really known any cleaners. I heard her humming happily as she worked. Shrugging to myself, I resumed my preparation of breakfast and ended up with a large bowl of cornflakes and several rounds of toast. That should get me started.

Apart from my lingering hangover, my body felt good, albeit a little sore from the hours of sex last night. I started to grow hard in my shorts as my mind played over some of the things I’d done to the girls, and what they’d done to me. I certainly had performed better than would have been possible without my training in Dianne.

Thinking of Dianne made me look over at the TV unit, where the black box awaited my next visit. I hadn’t used her yesterday, so it would be good to get some time in today. As soon as Jade leaves, anyway. The day off had me feeling refreshed and ready, despite last night’s drinking.

Getting settled on the couch with my breakfast, I flicked on the TV and browsed the multitude of channels while I waited for Jade to finish. She appeared absorbed in her work, not saying much, and I didn’t bother her. I was eager to get back into Dianne, and my mind was playing over options of what game to experience.

I wondered how Debbie was doing. Jessica, too, but mainly my thoughts were with Debbie. I drew my phone out of my pocket and checked for messages – knowing already there were none – and sighed. Guess I’ll just have to wait and find out. Maybe I’ll call her later.

I spent the next few minutes trying to come up with reasons why she might have left early but made myself stop when it became confusing and pointless. There were a hundred reasons, and the right one was probably not one I had thought of anyway.

A sly little voice in the back of my brain was telling me all the things I didn’t want to hear, like: ‘She’s not really into you,’ or ‘She got weirded out by last night and you scared her off.’ Those suggestions I suppressed as best I could, but the seed of doubt still wormed in my gut. Frowning, I tried to focus on the channels on the big plasma screen instead of my internal dialogue.

My eyebrows rose when I found a little gem called ‘Martial Arts Masters’ on the Discovery channel. In this episode, the host was doing an expose on kung fu. I wonder... My burgeoning idea was interrupted, however, by Jade bustling out of my room with an armful of my bed linen. I felt my cheeks grow hot, but she paid me no mind other than shooting me a brief, friendly smile. She disappeared down the hall by the kitchen and returned a few moments later with neatly folded, fresh linen.

“Where did you get those?” I asked, curious. “And what do you do with the ... uh...” I stumbled over what I was trying to ask, not wanting to embarrass myself. “Dirty washing?”

Jade stopped at the doorway to my room and turned to face me. “These,” she said, proffering the linens in her arms, “Were in your linen cupboard. As for the washing, I do it offsite and bring it back next week.”

“Ah,” I said, feeling a little silly for not knowing. “Sorry, I’m just not used to having a cleaner.” I have a linen cupboard?

Jade smiled, her dimples deepening. “Not to worry, love. Just leave everything to me, okay?” I nodded, and she entered my room, leaving me alone again. Once more, my thoughts went to Debbie, and to a lesser extent, Jessica. Thinking of the two girls together quickly had me hardening in my shorts, and a growing tension began to build. Hurriedly, I covered my lap with a cushion and set my plate on it as I finished my breakfast.

Unable to stop myself, I fished out my phone and messaged Debbie, asking if she got home okay. It was a casual message, hopefully not sounding needy or anything. Minutes went by with no reply. Chill out, I told myself irritably. She’ll reply when she can. Then there was Jessica, whose number I did not get last night. What was her deal, anyway? Those intense looks at first, and then ... That fine, slender body, that long, dark hair, the way she’d undulated on top of me...

A short time later, Jade emerged from my room, bringing me out of my daydream. She tidied up a few more things, then said her goodbyes and left. Before she did, though, she told me to make a list of items I’d prefer for next week, so she can adapt my shopping list to my tastes. Pleased at the idea, I thanked her and said I would do so.

Putting Jade’s nice smile and curvy body out of my mind, I threw aside the cushion and got up. I had begun to have an idea before Jade interrupted me, but I couldn’t remember what it was. Besides, I was too horny now to concentrate on much else until I’d scratched this itch. Grabbing a towel, I did my usual routine before accessing Dianne: remove shorts, put towel on couch to minimise mess, retrieve headband from Dianne.

I paused for a moment, standing there in the middle of the loungeroom. What should I put in Dianne? Diablo? Nah, too intense, though I could go visit Gillian again ... Final Fantasy VII? Tempting, but I wanted something different. Tekken Three? The thought of the roster of attractive female fighters was good, but getting the shit kicked out of me, not so much. Wait a second...

The idea from earlier bloomed to fruition. “Dianne?”

“Yes, Jake,” she replied at once, her feminine monotone emanating from her unit, tucked neatly into my TV cabinet, directly beneath the TV. The screen was still alive with the martial arts show I’d found earlier, though the sound was down low. The show was covering what looked like a monastery in China, where monks in yellow robes were performing insane acts of agility and strength.

Wondering if I was right, I voiced my question to Dianne. “Is there a way for me to absorb knowledge from an educational program on TV?” The movie The Matrix had only come out last month, but I’d seen it three times.

“Yes, in theory,” Dianne answered. “I do have access to an Integrated Learning Platform, though I require direct access to the media in order to implement it.”

I frowned. It was live TV; there were no discs. “How do I do that?”

“In the absence of optical discs or cartridges, I possess an array of ports which can be used to link me to multiple platforms, including satellite television.”

“Really? Where?” I’d looked all over Dianne thoroughly several times, and I’d seen no hint of what she spoke of.

“Remove me from this cabinet and I will show you, Jake.” Following her instructions, I pulled the big black cube from the cabinet and placed it on the carpet, turning it so I could see the back side. My eyes widened in surprise as I heard a click, and the back of the box opened like a door. Inside were rows of ports for as many cables as I’d ever seen; VGA, S-Video, RCA, DVI, coaxial, you name it. There was even one which looked like it could be IDE, to connect a computer hard drive!

“Whoa,” I breathed. “These all work?” it was a stupid question, but it was out before I could stop it.

“Of course, Jake,” Dianne assured me. “I am the product of an exceedingly high standard of quality control and manufacturing.”

“Well, you certainly are full of surprises,” I replied. “I suppose I need to connect you up to the satellite box now?”

“Just the television will suffice,” Dianne said. “From there, I will have access to all connected devices.”

The tech nerd in me scoffed at that. “How?”

“The same way the television displays a signal via the data electronically transmitted from the devices,” Dianne explained in her ever-patient tones. “As long as I have access to the signals via the television, I can create the neural network environments necessary to facilitate immersion.”

“Sure,” I said flatly as I dug a spare RCA cable from the draw beneath the TV. I noted a few other spare cables in there, too, which might come in handy later. I connected Dianne to the TV and put her back in her hole in the cabinet. Back on the couch, I fitted the headband on and closed my eyes. “I hope there are no more surprise visitors today.”

Inside the MAP, I went to the wall near my rotating hologram, studying the numbers on the huge monochrome display. It would seem my stats had increased again since last time I’d used Dianne, which was odd. How had that happened without using the system? Some sort of delayed benefit? Residual growth? Or was it a sort of momentum, like a boulder slowly rolling down a hill? Too many questions.

My physical, mental and social stats were now thirty-seven, thirty-nine and twenty-eight respectively, but further down, the more complex list of skills and abilities appeared not to have changed much.

“Let me know when you’re ready, Jake,” Dianne said, brining my attention away from the screen. “Though I must offer caution: assimilating information in this way may produce some discomfort.”

That didn’t sound good. “What sort of discomfort?”

“Previous testers of this aspect of the technology have experienced muscle pain, headaches, exhaustion and dehydration. In severe cases, seizures are possible.”

“Jesus!” I cried, worried. “Your interpretation of ‘discomfort’ is very broad, Dianne!” I was beginning to think my idea wasn’t worth it; I’d rather learn the slow way.

“Your adaptive traits, however,” Dianne continued, “Are beyond those of previous testers, Jake. Especially the ones who experienced the more severe side effects. I have been monitoring your progress carefully, and I believe you will suffer little rejection of the neural activity, if any at all.”

I said nothing for a while, deep in thought. Was it even worth it? Think about it, though, a curious voice said inside me. If you can learn so quickly, and the skills become yours forever, isn’t it worth a little risk? The voice had a point; martial arts was a diverse skill, the physical and mental disciplines useful in countless arenas.

“Do you wish to proceed, Jake?” Dianne asked after a few minutes.

“Yes,” I replied, firming my resolve.

“Very good, Jake. It is recommended that you take a sitting or lying position for this exercise.” As she finished speaking, a comfortable chaise lounge – not unlike one you’d see in a psychologist’s office – materialised nearby.

“You’re not going to plug anything into the back of my head, are you?” I asked as I got comfortable, only half-joking. I stared up at the square white panels of the ceiling above, my brow creased with nerves.

“That would be unnecessary, Jake,” she assured me. “I have analysed the television program you requested and took the liberty of adding information from other programs available through the satellite receiver. This will provide you with a more comprehensive learning experience for the combat discipline called ‘kung fu.’ Are you ready?”

I took a deep breath. Please work, and please, no side effects. “Go for it.”

I gasped as my vision of the ceiling was shoved roughly aside, replaced by myriad cascading images, some still, some moving, a thousand pictures and clips flashing into my brain faster than I could comprehend. My muscles quivered, tensing and relaxing spasmodically, though I was barely aware of my body. A hundred voices echoed, as if a hundred masters were teaching a hundred lessons at once.

Names attached themselves to the different styles my brain was absorbing: White Crane, Shaolin Wushu, Gung Fu, Jeet Kun Do, Tong Long, Tiger, Wing Chun ... the list rolled on.

An hour passed. A day. A week. A year, and still the impressions kept on. Finally, they relented, and I returned to my senses soaked with sweat and panting as if I’d just run a four-minute mile. “Holy shit,” I breathed, barely able to speak around my heaving chest. Suddenly queasy, I leaned over and vomited onto the glowing white floor. The mess disappeared immediately, of course, though back in my body would be another story. I grimaced at the thought.

“That response is common,” Dianne said once I’d finished hurling. “Do not be concerned. I am monitoring your vitals closely, Jake, and you have accepted the integration remarkably.”

“I don’t feel bloody remarkable,” I croaked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. It wasn’t until I sat up – the ease in which I sat up – that I noticed the difference in my body. I brought my hands up and stared at them in wonder as I flexed my fingers and made fists. “Unbelievable,” I muttered, eyes wide. “I could punch a hole in a car door!” The sick feeling was melting away quickly, leaving me feeling rather different.

“That is something of an exaggeration,” Dianne intoned. “But your tendons, ligaments, muscles and bones will be strengthening considerably over the coming days and weeks to match the updated neural network in your brain.”

“Wow.” I grinned, enjoying the way I felt. There was some soreness, but nothing like what I’d had before. A dull ache throbbed between my temples, too, but I was too buzzed to care. I eyed the section of the MAP I’d been using for training and my smile deepened.

“Dianne? What else can you access?” The sheer possibility of what I could learn were making my head spin. A giddy joy overtook me. I could learn to do anything!

”I can access anything that is programmed into the satellite television schedule,” she replied. “Alternatively, I can search the Internet for suitable knowledge and compile it into a learning framework much like the martial arts you have just integrated.”

There were so many choices, I didn’t know what to do. I realised I was out of the chair and pacing back and forth. I moved differently, now, more graceful, fluid, but I hardly noticed. What had I always wanted to learn but never got around to it? Guitar? Coding? Skateboarding?

Dianne appeared to anticipate my train of thought. “I must advise caution, Jake,” she warned. “I do not recommend attempting further integration for at least one week. Two, to be completely safe.”

“Why?” I demanded, disappointed. I paced back and forth, brimming with energy. I wanted to do more now!

“Your physiology and psychology need time to adjust to the significant changes,” she explained. “Your brain requires time to cement the new neural pathways, just as your body adapts to its new physical state.”

“Okay, okay,” I said irritably, disappointed I would not be able to keep going. I bounced on my toes, chuckling. I thought I might vibrate right out of my own skin. All this energy needed to go somewhere, or I was going to explode! “Dianne? Get me Tifa.”

“As you wish, Jake.”

A moment later, the floor and ceiling panels in the corner of the room changed from white to blue. Tifa appeared a moment later, garbed in her usual tank top and black skirt. She stared around in confusion for a moment but relaxed when she saw me approaching.

I walked confidently toward the blue-panelled area, and Tifa eyed me curiously as I approached. “You’re different,” she observed. “What have you been doing?”

“Learning,” I replied casually as I entered the space. I stopped a few paces away from her. “I was hoping you’d be up for some more sparring.”

She folded her arms beneath her prodigious breasts and looked me over for a moment, then nodded. “Not like I’m doing anything else,” she said with a grin before slipping her suspenders off her shoulders. A thrill of excitement shot through me as her hands moved to the hem of her tank top. When her tits bounced free, I bit my lip. She chuckled when she saw the look on my face. “Oh, this is going to be too easy!”

If she thought I was going to let her naked body affect me, she was right. I was already hard as stone, but I kept my silence as I watched her slowly turn and bend at the waist before peeling that tight black skirt over pale, taut buttocks. In my head, Indy whistled softly in appreciation, while Cloud groaned hungrily.

No sooner was she naked than she was coming at me, and all thoughts of her sexiness vanished as she took two long strides and struck out with a nasty right cross, aimed at my jaw. Last time we fought, that strike would have caught me for sure, but the way she moved her body told me a story, now. Right hip twisting a second before the shoulder followed, left hand up to guard any counter I offered. I knew if I did counter, she would slip it and that right knee would be in my stomach.

Without thinking, I pivoted slightly off my right foot, moving my right shoulder back and my left forward, just enough to turn my body a few inches. The punch sailed past my face. My left hand came up and pushed the outside of her extended arm, nudging her off balance. She let her momentum carry her forward a step, then caught her weight on her right foot and turned back, her head whipping around and her left leg already lifting into a kick, heel first.