Chapter 2: Going Out

Amanda’s diary:

Dear diary,

I had a great Friday with Fiona, but she got so clingy when we went to bed. she stayed like that the whole night, too, holding me close against her body with her right arm, placing her hand on my chest, leaning on me, and resting one of her legs on top of mine. It made it impossible to move, especially since I didn’t want to bother her.

I woke up before she did, and I tried to disentangle myself from her, very carefully, but it was clear I wouldn’t be able to do it without waking Fiona up, and I thought she might need to sleep longer, after training hard the day before. I felt a little frustrated and trapped by her body weight. It didn’t help that she was bigger and stronger than me. There wasn’t anything to do about it though, so I just closed my eyes and tried to get back to sleep. I couldn’t, really, but I let myself feel the pleasant aspects of it: the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, and the feeling of her breath on the back of my head. At some point I felt her move a little, and begin to stroke my thigh with her bare foot. It felt almost as if she were treading on me, and I admit I was too embarrassed to say anything about it, so I pretended I was still asleep. I wasn’t sure if she was awake herself until she talked.

“Good morning, Amanda”, she said in a sing-song quiet voice.

Not wanting to make it obvious I was awake, I just gave a little moan and shifted around a bit, still constrained by Fiona’s body.

She chuckled and started stroking my hair with one of her hands, while the other, resting on my chest, explored me with her fingertips. Her foot was still touching my thigh. It all felt a little bit too intimate and overwhelming, though she wasn’t groping my breasts or anything. It made me feel soft and warm inside, but I wasn’t sure I wanted it to go on.

“Come on, little Mandy, wake up!” she said, still quietly.

She couldn’t have known, but Mandy was a sore word for me: it was the nickname all my stuck up cousins had called me; the name that ended up spreading to my previous school as my classmates worked out they could drive me to tears teasing me with it; and the name my few friends ended up using when they decided I wasn’t cool after all and cut me out. It made me stiffen and shiver, and Fiona noticed it, as close as she was holding me.

“Amanda?” she called. “Are you awake now?”

“Yes”, I replied. “Could you ... you know, let go of me?” I asked. I hated how hesitant I sounded.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you minded”, she said, withdrawing her arm and leg from me, though still lying very close. “I slept really well. How about you?”

“I did, too”, I said moving away. “Shouldn’t we get up?”

She got out of bed and we had breakfast. I didn’t usually take much food in the morning, but Fiona was much more athletic and ate a proper meal. I asked her if she had any plans for the day and she suggested we go shopping in the afternoon and stay in for the morning, as the weather wasn’t too nice for walking outside.

I would have loved to go out for a walk with Fiona around her house. They owned a lot of land and there were some woods I just wanted to explore, but it wouldn’t be so great to get rained on. She could tell I was disappointed, but she smiled at me, told me we’d find something fun to do together, and that we’d have plenty of chances to go for walks in other visits. I couldn’t help smiling at the thought she liked me and would be inviting me again, and she laughed looking at my face and told me not to get so excited. She didn’t know the half of it!

We cleared the breakfast things and went to the living room. she suggested playing some games, and I agreed. I thought she might mean computer games, but she checked if I played chess and set up a board at the table. I wondered if I should warn her I’m a rated player, but it felt too awkward. It was for the best that I didn’t, because she was good! I very narrowly won the match, but she could easily have. She started smirking as she saw my surprise.

It’s just so unfair. She has it all: money, looks, friends, and brains, too. What could she ever see in me?

Afterwards we moved to the sofa and she said since we’d played a nerdy game we’d play a social game next, which sounded fair to me, though I complained Truth or Dare was too cliched.

“It’s a cliche because it works, but fine; let’s make it Would You Rather, then”, she replied.

She told me her house rules: we’d take turns in asking each other which thing would we rather do. The things should be practical, take no longer than ten minutes, and somehow say something about ourselves. In this version of the game, we were supposed to actually do our chosen option. If the choices were completely unbearable, we could ask for a pass and a forfeit instead, but she made it clear that was very much not cool. I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I tried not to do that.

Since she had more experience, I agreed to be the first chooser. I hated doing so, but I asked her to go easy on me, which put a devious smile on her face.

“Ok, would you rather show me your tits, or dance for me?” she asked.

“But I can’t dance”, I replied.

“You can give it your best. Or show me your tits, of course”, she said smirking.

I found both choices about as bad, but in the end, showing her my breasts didn’t require me to make a total fool of myself. I was just not that well coordinated, and I would look unbearably clumsy to someone as capable as Fiona, who played football. So I gulped, opened my top, and showed Fiona my breasts.

“Those aren’t your tits”, she said. “That’s your bra.”

I sighed, unclasped my bra, and uncovered my small, firm breasts as she looked. At least she seemed pleased. I gave her a few seconds, and was about to put it back on when she stopped me.

“Keep them like that for ten minutes”, she said, and set a timer on her phone.

That made for an awkward time, at least for me. Fiona seemed to be perfectly happy to keep a conversation going while ogling my breasts, and making the occasional comment on how they looked nice or I had large nipples. It always made me blush and that made her giggle, in turn, which made me even more embarrassed and I ended up looking down, with red cheeks, and stammering.

I’m so silly. I’m lucky Fiona wants to spend time with me at all, but I can’t imagine she’ll ever really like me.

At last, the alarm beeped and I could cover myself up. It may sound weird, since we were both girls, but I’m very body conscious and I had managed not to show much when I changed the night before. I suppose that’s part of getting to know each other, though; finding out what each person is like, and how they react to unusual situations.

It was my turn to present a choice, and it was clear to me this was a bit of a test. Could I come up with something interesting and challenging for Fiona? She seemed really confident and secure, so it wouldn’t be so easy to give her difficult choices. I did notice she liked being taken seriously, so she’d probably hate to look silly.

“Ok, would you rather ... wear a pair of panties on your head for ten minutes, or give me a long, intense kiss?” I tried to sound sultry, for that last part.

I expected her to grit her teeth and go with the panties. After all, people haven’t been lining up to kiss me. Instead, she got up, swaggered towards me, and commanded me to close my eyes. I was so surprised. I looked at her, as if asking, are you for real? Are you really going to do it? She looked back, confident and strong like I could never be. I blushed and obediently closed my eyes, slightly opening my lips, and wondering if I was really going to get a kiss. Should I tell her it was my first? Better not, in case she changed her mind.

I felt her lips, soft and warm, lightly touching my cheek as she made a kissing sound.

“That’s not what I meant”, I said, a little flustered and disappointed.

She chuckled softly.

“Be patient, little one”, she said. Then she went on laying really light touches of her lips ever closer to mine. I felt like I was melting inside as she went on teasing me, and when she gave my lips a tiny brush with hers, I couldn’t help moaning. She giggled, and I felt her stroking my cheek with her hand.

Finally she pressed her lips on mine, firmly, commanding me to open further, and I let her take over, meekly complying. She played with me, tasting my lips with her tongue and teasing me by placing it right at the entrance of my mouth as she stroked my hair. I was completely overwhelmed and felt my whole body quiver with desire. There was no way I could counterfeit or hide a reaction like that. I just let her explore me, one of her hands softly playing with my hair, and the other running through my body, as she finally touched my tongue with hers. I starting gasping and moaning from it all, thrusting my own tongue on hers, nestling my head against her hand and forgetting this was meant to be just a game.

Eventually she slowed down and started to softly withdraw from me. I was so grateful she didn’t just suddenly moved away, leaving me there hanging. Even then, I was overcome by my feelings. I was wet down there, and I was close to crying from the intensity of the experience, the joy of finally knowing what it was like to be properly kissed, and the fear it would never happen again.

Fiona looked at me with wonder in her eyes. I couldn’t understand why. She smiled at me fondly. It felt like she wanted to shelter and protect me, and I wanted her to.

“Goodness”, she said. “It looks like I broke little Mandy.”

It was like coming out from a warm, relaxing, peaceful bath and being dropped into a cold lake. My smile froze, my hands and feet turned cold and shivery, and my face lost its lively glow, as if I were being shut down. I could see Fiona noticing it, paying close attention to me, and revealing a hint of anger.

“I thought so”, she muttered. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I didn’t think it would hit you that hard.”

She held me in her arms and I slowly thawed again.

“How would you like to do something fun you’ve never done before?” she asked, hoping to put my strange reaction behind.

“What is it?” I asked, a bit more cautiously. My excitement had turned into fear and worry again, and constant thoughts telling me how I was worthless and disgusting kept running through my head, much as I tried to resist.

“Have you ever driven a car?” she inquired.

“No. I don’t have a licence”, I said. “My parents say it’s too dangerous and expensive for me to drive yet.” I didn’t want to admit the money thing, but I felt I should be honest with her.

“That’s alright”, she said. “Come and I’ll let you drive my car for a bit. I am a good teacher, you’ll see.”

“But I’m not allowed, right? Not without a licence.”

“That doesn’t apply on private roads, and we have some of those around the house. Come on! It will be fun!” she said.

I reluctantly got up and followed her to their garage. She got in on the driver’s side and I on the other. She drove out, and instead of taking the road back to town, turned left.

“Here we are”, she said. “Swap with me and we’ll give it a whirl.”

I took the driver’s seat and she explained the basic features of the car to me. Fortunately it was an automatic. A few minutes later I was carefully moving the car around, though I’m not sure I’d quite call it driving. Fiona was very calm, though I was afraid I would mess up and crash. She was patient and kind with me, and I did better than I expected after I stopped being so nervous. At some point I realised I was indeed having fun. I smiled at Fiona, and she smiled back, with a simple and unguarded delight in my own.

I have to work out a way to get a car. I know my parents can’t afford it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find a solution. It makes such a difference. Fiona can go wherever she likes, without asking anyone or depending on bus schedules. Without a car, it would have been hard to organise this weekend, with her parents away, for instance.

After a while I noticed Fiona getting a bit bored. It couldn’t be that much fun to teach a clumsy girl like me to drive, so I thanked her and let her drive us back into the garage. She offered to go on further if I wanted, but she reminded me this wouldn’t be the last time I’d have the chance, so we went back in and she suggested another round of the game, which had got interrupted by my silly reaction to that childhood nickname. She even let me give her choices first, as she said it made more sense to alternate who goes first. I had to rack my brain a little, but I finally came up with something.

“Would you rather play a dog for the next ten minutes, or eat something really spicy?” I asked. I’d seen a jar of Chinese hot peppers in the kitchen when I made Fiona’s sandwich, and I knew they were pretty hard to take.

This time, Fiona looked far less enthusiastic than when I offered her the choice of kissing me. At least I was better than eating a bunch of hot peppers! In the end she took the spicy option, and I made her eat five of them, making sure she chewed. It wasn’t easy for her, and she was crying a little by the end. I think she may be less used to spices than I am. If it had been me, I would have taken the other choice, but she’d rather bear discomfort than embarrassment, it seems.

“Ok, so it’s my turn now”, she said with a devious smile, about to get her revenge. “Would you rather tell me what the Mandy thing is about, or get mercilessly tickled for ten minutes?” she asked.

I locked up for a moment. Telling her about my cousins was unthinkable. If she ever found out what I had let them do to me, how far I had fallen, she’d never talk to me again. But I was really, really ticklish. Unbearably so. In fact that was one of the things my cousins delighted in doing to me: tickle little Mandy until she wees on herself like a baby. I was so close to asking for a forfeit that time, but I really didn’t want to let Fiona down, and I had made her do something she found pretty hard. In the end I gave in and chose the least bad: the tickles.

“Tell me,” she demanded, “are you very ticklish?”

As if she didn’t know after seeing my reaction!

“Yes. I am very ticklish. Please be easy on me”, I begged, making her laugh.

“Where is Amanda most ticklish?” she asked, looking piercingly into my eyes.

I’m not sure why, but I couldn’t help answering her honestly.

“My armpits, and my feet, Fiona”, I said.

“Good girl. Now lie down on your front”, she said patting the sofa. “Cross your arms above your head. Palms on the sofa.” She was curt and firm.

I did my best to comply and let her rearrange me as she pleased. She got her phone to set the timer, sat on the armrest looking at my head, and placed her socked feet under my face. Then she slid her butt forward, trapping my arms between her calves and thighs, making sure I was helpless, my armpits were exposed, and my nose rested on top of her toes. She had put on clean socks, but I could still smell her feet, as close as I was. She lay the phone on my back and began to tickle under my arms and on my sides, making me laugh and unwillingly rub my face on her feet as I fruitlessly tried to wriggle away, as a mindless reflex.

“Please, Fiona”, I said laughing. “Please, I can’t bear it! Go easy?”

She laughed, almost as much as I did and with considerably more joy, and kept exploring my ticklish spots with her quick fingers. It felt just like before, like when my cousins did it to me. I felt completely trapped and unable to defend myself. Like then, too, it made me strangely excited, which at least they had never found out, but Fiona might prove more observant.

The constant tickling forced me to breathe faster, harder and deeper, and Fiona delighted in pressing her toes on my nose as she went on, forcing me to smell her feet, taking my air filtered through her sweaty sock. That wasn’t supposed to be part of the choice, but it was too embarrassing for me to complain. What could I say? “Please, Fiona, stop making me sniff your feet?” I doubt she would have stopped it anyway, and, being honest, a part of me liked it. Even writing it here made me blush.

Sooner than I thought, but later than I hoped, the alarm beeped and Fiona stopped tormenting me.

“Fiona, that was horrible”, I said.

“That was five minutes”, she replied. “Now I do your feet.”

She got up, removing her feet from my face at last, and letting my arms free. I curled up trying to comfort myself. She sat on my calves, holding my thighs between her legs, feet pointing up, and took off my socks. The entire process was torturous knowing that I was going to be tickled for five more minutes. I knew it was hopeless, but I begged Fiona to spare me, just as I had begged my tormentors before. I had learned I couldn’t afford to be proud. But just as it usually happened with them, Fiona only laughed at me and mocked me. It made me feel so small and insignificant.

She started slowly, just mapping the different areas of my feet and what made me shriek and writhe the most. She did it faster and faster, increasing in intensity until I was nothing but a wriggling, quivering, helpless mess. As time went on, I felt I was about to lose hold of my bladder. The thought of peeing on Fiona’s sofa, in front of her, was absolutely mortifying, so much I had to accept the humiliation of explaining to her that I couldn’t control myself.

“Please Fiona, please I’m going to wee if you don’t stop!” I begged, running my words on each other.

She laughed, but she did stop for a moment.

“Are you really that ticklish, little one?” she asked.

“I’m sorry”, I replied. “I can’t help it. Please, you have to stop.”

“Let’s make a deal”, she said. “I’ll let you go to the toilet now, but then you come back and I tickle you for ten more minutes.”

“Fiona, please! I mean it! I can’t take it!” I insisted.

She went back to tickling me, as hard and fast as ever, and had me agreeing to her deal in a matter of seconds.

“Yes, please, you can tickle me ten more minutes, but please stop now!” I said.

“The price went up! It’s fifteen minutes now”, she said, giggling.

“Anything!” I said, and felt the relief of her stopping just soon enough for me to get up and run to the toilet without terminally embarrassing myself.

Of course, after getting that relief I still had to go back and face Fiona again. She was waiting for me, smiling. I just took my place, like before, waiting for her to go ahead. She run her fingers through my soles, slowly, and said this didn’t count because it was just a warm-up after my rest. I wanted to complain, but I felt more and more submissive. I had learned to give in and quietly accept what was done to me, or it would get even worse, so I said nothing.

After minutes of me losing my mind trying to protect my vulnerable soles from Fiona’s deft hands, the alarmed beeped, but instead of stopping, she just slowed down.

“Beg me to stop”, she demanded.

“Please, Fiona! Stop! I beg you! I’ve been begging you for ages!” I said.

“Tell me I’m prettier than you”, she added.

“You’re prettier than me. I’m ugly and clumsy. Please! No more!”, I was so desperate.

At last she let me go. I curled into a ball in a corner of the sofa and she stretched on the other, pressing her soles on my legs. I was so out of breath I had to just lie there and rest, stewing in my own feelings of inadequacy and betrayal. She had broken the rules and bullied me. She was just the same ... the same as everyone else who hated me because I deserved nothing else. A few minutes passed with me recovering and doing my best not to cry. I didn’t want to show Fiona even more weakness. Finally I sat up and looked at her. She seemed a little confused.

“Shall I pack my things, then?” I asked.

“What? It’s not even Saturday afternoon yet”, she said. “Why would you do that?”

“I ... I suppose I should go, since you don’t like me. You had your fun now, right?” I asked.

“Stop stop stop!” she said. “Slow down. Who says I don’t like you? You lost me, Amanda.”

“You broke the rules of that game. You made me beg you to stop after time was up, even after our deal. You were ... you were mean to me”, I said, shedding a tear. “My ... when someone does that, they don’t want me around.”

“Amanda, come close, please”, she said.

She sat up and I hesitantly moved by her, afraid of what she would do. She embraced me and held me and sat me on her lap, hugging me so close it almost hurt. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I had got things wrong. She didn’t hate me. I could feel her warmth all around my body, giving me shelter. She rocked me and explained.

Playing chess is a rules game. It is all about understanding the interactions of the pieces on the board, and very little about the players, though there is a tiny bit of personality that leaks through. The game we were playing, it was about getting closer as friends; about knowing each other and forging bonds. When she asked me about my nickname, and she gave me a really unpleasant alternative, I was meant to pick the choice that allowed us to understand each other better. She was so disappointed that I threw the opportunity away that she made it as hard as possible on me, beyond the rules, on the service of the purpose of the game itself. I finally understood what we were trying to do, and I realised I let her down by making that choice.

I told her that I was sorry, and I promised her I’d tell her what that was about, but not then. It was just too difficult. I explained to her I had been treated very harshly by those whom I thought were my friends, and it made it hard for me to meet new people and trust them. I trusted her, though, in spite of everything, and I was so glad that she didn’t dislike me.

After a while I calmed down and removed myself from her lap, blushing. I had been so silly. I asked her to forgive me and to forget it happened, and she agreed. We watched some TV together, and slowly went back to enjoying just talking to each other.

“Goodness, look at the time!” she said. “We should go to the mall now, and have lunch there. What do you say?”

“Sure!” I said.

We both got ready to go out: dressed up a bit and made ourselves look nice, or, in my case, as nice as I could. Fiona asked me to brush her lovely hair, which was a pleasure for us both. It’s so soft and beautiful, and I could almost hear her purr as I ran the brush through. She kept me doing it for minutes. We got on her car, and her phone rang. She pressed a button, and the call came through hands-free.

“Sup, Fiona?” asked a voice I couldn’t recognise.

“I’m in the car with Amanda. We’re heading to the mall. You coming today?”

“Haha, what are you doing with that loser? Not sure I want to get seen with her, but sure, I’m heading there soon”, she said.

It was like a slap in the face, though I was used to it by then--both insults and slaps--and I didn’t make a sound. I just ... went a bit colder and absent. Fiona saw it, though.

“Kira!” she scolded. “I’m on hands-free! She’s heard you.”

“Good, I meant her to”, she said. “Maybe she’ll get the hint and fuck off.”

“Kira”, said Fiona. “We go back a long time, so I’m going to cut this call now before you say something unforgivable I have to make you regret. I want you to remember what happened last time someone was deliberately rude to my friends, and decide how you want to behave from now on. Bye.” She hang up.

“It’s ok”, I said. “I get it. Some of your friends aren’t going to like me, and it’s not like you can make them.”

“I can make them be polite to you”, she said. “At least I can make them regret it if they aren’t.”

A few seconds later the phone rang again.

“Fiona?” said Kira, hesitant. “I’m sorry about what I said. I had been hoping to have fun this weekend with you and I was just being a bitch. Forgive me.”

“It’s not me you have to ask”, said Fiona.

“Amanda, I don’t really know anything about you and I was just being horrible for no good reason. Can we try to start over?” asked Kira.

“Sure, Kira”, I said, though I felt rather sceptical.

They agreed to meet for lunch. Kira said Megan might be coming, too, and Fiona mentioned Eve. Hopefully they wouldn’t be so mean to me.

“Listen, Amanda”, said Fiona after finishing the call. “I know it’s hard, but you have to trust me. I’ll be there for you, ok? My friends ... they like playing games and testing people. It’s just how they are. If I’m being honest they’re not the nicest people around, but they’re still my friends. They’re going to want to know if you can keep up when they fuck with you. If you do, they’ll respect you; if you don’t ... it will all be much harder. Can you stand up to them, for me? I like you, and I want to get much closer to you, but I can’t change the friends I already have.”

“I’m ... I’ll try, Fiona, but I’m not very brave or strong”, I said. “I trust that you will support me, and I get I can’t just ... depend on you to take care of me all the time. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“You’re stronger than you think, so don’t worry about disappointing me”, she said. “I like you and you are great, just believe it and don’t let my pushy friends get you down and it will all be fine. Alright? Let’s show them what Amanda’s made of!”

When we got there, they decided to go straight to lunch. Fiona and Eve were already hungry, and that way we could do other stuff after without interruptions. It turned out Megan was busy and couldn’t come. Eve had been pretty nasty to me a couple of times, but I decided to let it go and start over. Things were going well until Fiona and Kira went to the toilet. Kira seemed to want to talk to Fiona alone, so it was just Eve and me at the table.

“So, is it fun to be Fiona’s pet nerd?” asked Eve.

“I prefer to think I’m her friend”, I said, surprising myself with my confidence.

“Right, but in reality you’re just a loser she picked up like a bit of dirt from the floor. She just loves meek girls like you because she can walk all over you and you’re no challenge at all”, she replied, with a perfect smile on her beautiful face.

Could that be true? Did Fiona only want me with her to have someone to boss around? Someone weaker and obedient, grateful for the chance to be her friend? It was hard to deny she was quite pushy herself, though only in private. She’d been perfectly nice in public. The worst part was, even if it was true, I wasn’t sure it would be so bad.

Eve noticed I lost some confidence and giggled.

“You know it’s true, too”, she said. “You’re just her pet nerd until she gets bored of you.”

I blushed, and got angry, but couldn’t work out a reply. I hoped Fiona and Kira would come back soon. It didn’t helped that I imagined myself obeying Fiona, doing nice things for her, and it got me strangely excited, as if that was really what I wanted to be: her pet nerd. It sounded awful, and it sounded wonderful, all at once; but it was distracting me from dealing with Eve right now so I tried to set it aside.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say”, I muttered. “Fiona’s been very kind to me so far.”

“Sure”, said Eve. “Fiona’s kind to her pets until she discards them. Remember, though, we’re her real friends. She’ll always take our side in the end, and we can make your life very hard if you’re not sweet to us.”

She finished eating her chicken and leaned towards me.

“So, are you going to be a good little nerd and offer your hair for me to wipe my greasy fingers on?” she demanded. “The napkins here are too thin to clean oneself properly.” She had a mischievous smile on her face, as if she were daring me to try something fun. “I’ll tell you what: Fiona knows how to pick them. I bet you’ll even like it, won’t you?”

I’m not sure how, but I managed to resist, without crying or getting much more flustered than I already was.

“No, thanks”, I said, sarcastically. “I’ll pass.”

“Wrong answer, little nerd”, she said, leaning further forward, grabbing my head and wiping her food-stained fingers all over my newly washed hair.

I was so shocked I didn’t manage to push her away. A part of me ... a part of me liked it, though I managed to hide it under a blank face. I still didn’t want it, though. I hated Eve right then, almost as much as I hated my cousins. If Fiona had done that to me ... perhaps it would have been different. Eve did it to hurt me, though, and it did hurt.

After a while she saw she wasn’t going to get more of a reaction from me and she let me go. I was on the edge of tears.

“Aren’t you thanking me?” she asked. “As ugly as your hair is, anything I do to it is bound to make it better.”

I kept quiet, uncertain I could speak without sobbing.

“I’m going to finish today’s lesson in a way that will either teach you your place, or get you to leave us in peace”, she said.

I could feel the hate in her voice and it scared me. Why did Eve dislike me so strongly? Had I done anything wrong, anything to her, to deserve this?

She took a drink from her soda, swirled it in her mouth, grabbed my own glass and spat it into it. There were bits of food and snot floating on top. I thought she only meant to spoil my juice, but then she ordered me to drink it up.