Chapter 8

It occurred to her, before she spoke, that the only reason she could say what she planned to say was what the wand had just done to her. She wasn’t worried about it. Everything would work out. She knew how foolish that was, to think that way. It was entirely possible that things wouldn’t work out at all. And yet, she wasn’t worried about that, either.

“Okay,” she said. “I have to tell you some things.”

“Is the wand making you tell me?” he asked, instantly.

“No, but you need to understand. If we’re going to make it through this, you have to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“If you’ll be quiet long enough to let me tell you, you’ll find out!” she snapped.

He looked hurt, but she didn’t worry about it.

“I think the wand affects the user, as well as the person it’s being used on,” she said.

He stopped looking hurt and started looking interested.

“When I used it on you, I made you tell the truth. Then I chose to ask you something very personal ... something sexual.”

He said nothing, but she saw his cheeks pink up.

“I could have asked you something else. I could have asked you who tagged the school last month. Do you know who did that, Bobby?”

Now he looked uncomfortable.

“I’ve heard rumors,” he said, looking away.

“You don’t want to name names, though,” she said.

“What’s your point?” he said, deflecting.

“My point is that I could have asked you about that. But you’d hinted that you had racy thoughts about me, and something made me want to know more about ... that. Maybe that something was the wand.”

He blinked.

“Since then, my thoughts have become more and more uncontrollable,” she said. “I dreamed last night. I dreamed about you ... about us.”

He leaned forward.

“What kind of dreams?” he asked.

“Completely inappropriate dreams,” she said, calmly. “And since then, I still can’t control my thoughts. When you got here, they got worse, if anything.”

“Wow,” he said. It was clear this information did not disturb him. She felt another wave of passion flow through her. But now she could think rationally about it.

“Then you inadvertently told me to stop worrying about it. I was finally able to think clearly. That’s why we’re having this conversation.”

“Can I ask questions?” he inquired.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m worried what kind of questions you’ll ask, and that I’ll tell you the truth.”

“Do you feel compelled to tell me the truth?” he asked.

“No. But I’m not worried about the consequences of telling you the truth. I’m not worried about anything right now, Bobby.”

“Because of what I did with the wand,” he said.

“Yes. And that brings us to the point. That thing is very dangerous, Bobby, especially because we don’t know very much about how it works. If it affects the user, as well as the victim, we have no idea what might happen.”

“Do you think it made you get ... um ... lusty?”

“I think that’s very complicated,” she said. “But the short answer is yes.”

“Do you think that’s what happened to Batiste?”

She sat, stunned. Why hadn’t she thought about that?

She hadn’t had time, that’s why.

“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe that’s what made him so ... insatiable.”

“Then we have to do something,” said Bobby.

“What?”

“To you. To fix you.”

“I’m not broken, Bobby.”

“Okay, I get that. But it’s obvious thinking about ... um ... us ... bothers you, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you said it was getting worse, right?”

“Yes.”

“Until I told you not to worry.”

“Yes.”

“And now you’re not worried.”

“It’s much more than that,” she said. “I’m not worried about anything. I’m not worried about anyone finding out I was Batiste’s last victim. I’m not worried about people finding out you killed him. I’m not worried that I had to use my vibrator to get to sleep last night, and that the reason I had to was because I kept thinking about you naked. I’m not worried that I just ran my mouth and told you something I didn’t want you to know about. Do you get it now? I’m not worried about anything, Bobby!”

She took a deep breath. She watched his eyes watch her breasts as she took that breath ... and didn’t worry about it.

“And a certain amount of worry and concern is vital to your well-being,” she sighed.

“I understand,” he said. “That’s even more reason that we need to do something to ... help you.”

“I was just messing around with it,” said Bobby. “Making the motions, you know? I wasn’t trying to do anything with it.”

“Try to remember exactly what you were thinking about,” urged Mindy.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything!” moaned Bobby.

“You obviously were,” said Mindy, patiently. She wasn’t worried about them never learning to control the wand. They had to. It was either that, or destroy it. And destroying it didn’t seem like good option at all. Destroying it seemed like suicide or abortion ... a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

“I remember thinking you were too uptight about it. All I was doing was waving the thing around, and you were acting like it was a gun or something.”

“You shot me with that gun, Bobby,” she said, her voice measured, but firm.

He looked at her. He had the quintessential look of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m really sorry,” he moaned.

“You know how you’re supposed to treat every gun as if it’s loaded, whether you think it is or not?”

“I get it!” yelled Bobby.