Chapter 5: Monday - Another Survivor!

(Monday morning)

Bobby woke at 6 A.M. As his mind travelled back over the things he did yesterday, he didn't know whether to feel guilt or elation. Everyone in his party was certainly much more... liberal. And he had gotten more sex than he would ever have BELIEVED! -- HELL, he wasn't a VIRGIN anymore! Not by a LONG shot! But... something had obviously been done to all of them -- the changes in them were just too extreme. Had he... taken advantage of them... during their weakness? Of their inability to control their urges?

A growling sound from his abdomen reminded him that he'd had nothing to eat since he waited in the lobby yesterday before his mother picked him up.

Quietly -- so as not to wake up this rowdy bunch! -- he dressed and headed out into the hallway

There was a restaurant off the lobby of the hotel, and Bobby figured he'd get something to eat and think through what he should do now, before their 10:00 A.M. flight back home.

When he rounded the corner to the hallway with the elevator, he saw Mrs McCloud, the perky teacher that had persuaded Mrs Pittman to join the group, coming from the other direction, and he stiffened. If she were like the others... what he needed right now was time to think things through, not more sex. His desire not to be distracted underlined, he continued towards the elevator and pressed the down button.

Mrs McCloud stood about four feet from him, also intent on using the elevator. "Hi, Bobby," she said stiffly.

Bobby kept his eyes down -- don't make eye contact, and you may not set her off. "Hi, Mrs McCloud."

Both waited in an awkward silence until the elevator arrived and Mrs McCloud stepped in and took the back left corner, then Bobby stepped in himself, staying in the opposite corner of the elevator.

"What... uhm... floor, Mrs McCloud?"

Joan McCloud stayed pressed back in her half of the elevator. "The lobby."

Bobby pressed the button for the lobby, then pressed himself into his corner with the floor buttons, keeping his eyes downcast. Hopefully she would pick up on all the "no" signals he was sending.

"Bobby Keegan," she said, causing him to startle, "If you press a button to halt this elevator, so help me, I will cut both your hands off before you can touch me!"

Bobby looked up, confused. Where were her aggressive demands for sex? That sounded almost like... like she was normal!

She stood in her corner glaring at him.

Bobby stepped slightly from his corner, realizing that he had had his back pressed lightly against the buttons in his nervousness, which was probably what she mistook for a suspicious action on his part.

"No... I... ehr..."

"Bobby, you just stay in that corner and I'll stay in this one, and we'll both be okay."

Bobby smiled with victory! She was... acting normally!

"Mrs McCloud, do you mean-- "

"Bobby," she said tightly, "You just keep your distance!"

"No! I mean, yes! I will! But you're... you're normal!"

Mrs McCloud did a double take. "What... do you mean?"

"You're normal, Mrs McCloud! I mean, aren't you?"

"Normal how?" She started to breath naturally herself.

"Everyone else has been rutting around like animals in heat! And I've... I've... do you want to have sex now?"

"No!" she re-stiffened.

"Good! Great! Finally! Someone! Everyone else has become raging sexaholics! And you're NORMAL!"

"Are you saying you are too, Bobby?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, Lord..." she gave a trembly sigh. "I wasn't sure if anyone was left."

"I know!"

The elevator opened, and they both stepped off.

"May I... may I have breakfast with you, Mrs McCloud?"

"As long as you stay normal."

"Yes! We can talk. And compare notes. And just... talk! Something awful has happened here!"

The pair walked to the restaurant. Mrs McCloud just had a coffee, while Bobby ordered two danish and an orange juice. Then they made their way to a table.

"It's so good to find someone that's not a raving sex-maniac!"

"Oh, Bobby, you have no idea. Patricia came back to the room with some guy Saturday night, and they started... just... DOING it... right there IN FRONT OF ME! I stormed out, and when I came back later, I made sure he was gone! But then... but then she started getting fresh WITH ME!"

"She... 'got fresh' with me, too, yesterday." Bobby's mind, though, saw Mrs Pittman kissing Mrs McCloud -- Mrs McCloud resisting at first, but then relenting as she got turned on. No -- it was a horrible thing that was happening, and he shouldn't be toying with the idea of liking it!

"Then your father, Bobby! He came banging on the door last night saying that your mother threw him out of the hotel room." Mrs McCloud didn't notice Bobby's blush that he was the cause of that. "Patricia started putting on a pregnant strip dance for him. I grabbed my things to leave, but he wouldn't stop groping me!"

"He didn't-- " Bobby swallowed hard, realizing how far this horrible situation could get out of hand. "He didn't... rape you... did he?"

"No, but he's going to have testicles swelled to the size of grapefruits from the kick I landed to his groin. I took off out of there and found a closet on the top floor of the hotel. I spent the night in there, but still I heard people squealing, playing sex games in the hall. I didn't come downstairs until I snuck in the room to pick up my purse this morning. Then I bumped into you."

"Wow."

"You said it. What's gotten into everyone?"

"I don't know. My experiences haven't been much better than yours. The first time I noticed someone acting strange was Kim, I guess, Friday night."

"What was she doing?"

"She had gone downstairs to play some of the electronic games. I woke up about two o'clock and realized she still wasn't back yet. I wandered downstairs and saw her sitting with some guy, who groped her ass and breasts while she played."

"Hmmm."

"What are you thinking?"

"Let's say they drugged her and did something to her. That doesn't give them much time. We got here at 9:30 P.M., and she was already starting to be affected by 2:00 A.M."

"No, that's not much time. What about Mrs Pittman? You said she was acting weird by Saturday night. What did she do Saturday afternoon? Was she gone long enough that they could have gotten to her?"

"She was gone a few hours, so I guess so. She went down to play some of the games too."

They both looked at each other.

"Do you think it's the games themselves?" Bobby asked. "Re-programming them? Or do you think they just nab the victims out of the game area?"

"Well, we don't know for sure that it IS the games. We're drawing conclusions from just two cases."

"It's gotta be the games. Remember Friday night when we got here? The guy at the counter telling us to play the games while the win ratio was still good?"

"Yeah..."

"Why else would anyone share something like that? Unless he WANTED us to play those games!"

"I don't know, Bobby."

"Now the next question. How do we reverse it?"

"Maybe it will reverse itself. Maybe it's just something that lasts while we're physically here, inside this hotel."

"And if it's not?"

"I don't know, Bobby."

"I think we should confront the casino manager with it."

"Yeah -- and get OUR brains wiped too! No, thank you, Bobby!"

"But we HAVE to. We can't let Kim and Mom and Mrs Pittman stay like this the rest of their lives! We HAVE to do something. And the only people that know what was done to them are right here in this hotel."

Mrs McCloud just looked at him, feeling the pull between doing what was right -- helping their friends and family -- and doing what was in her own best interest for survival. And when she tallied the points for both at the bottom -- well, screw what was right. Patricia Pittman wasn't THAT good of a friend anyway! "Bobby, no. We get out of here. We tell the police. Let THEM handle it. They get PAID to be brave."

"Sure! And let my mother and sister and father get prodded and dissected by curious scientists and maybe stay brainwashed like this for the rest of their LIVES! No! I am going to do what's RIGHT!"

"Bobby, I am going to the police. It is simply foolish to-- "

"What if it was YOU?! Hungh?! What if YOU couldn't think past the next cock?! Past your next fuck?! Wouldn't you want them to at least TRY to save you?! Or what if it was your HUSBAND?! Or your MOTHER?! I CAN'T just sit back and do NOTHING! I CAN'T just LEAVE them this way!"

"Bobby-- " she sighed. "The-- Bobby, there MAY be nothing we CAN do. It may be that-- "

"I CAN'T believe that! Look. We-- we at least try. We bluff. We tell them we have email on a hidden server set to release to fifty major newspapers in the country, detailing everything we've found out, detailing the known victims."

"Bobby-- "

"Wait. And we tell them that if they fix my family back, we'll kill the email and forget about it -- we don't want to be looking over our shoulders for their hitmen the rest of our lives. That makes sense. If we get my family back, we part ways and leave them alone. But I just want my family back!"

"Bobby," she shook her head.

"And YOU! You're my teacher. You're supposed to help me learn what's right! Not just slink away like a coward to save your own skin! What would your HUSBAND think if he knew you just abandoned me and my family? That you just-- oh, hell. I don't care. Leave if you want to. But I'm at least going to try!"

Actually... her husband was a firefighter. And she guessed it did kind of betray what he stood for if she... if she just walked out and left this poor, scared boy alone.

"What... ," she sighed, "What do you have in mind?"

God, she hoped she didn't get brain-wiped.

Cock Confrontational

(Monday morning)

Bobby and Mrs McCloud sat in the small office while two big men dressed in black stood just outside the door. Mrs McCloud was trying to conrol her breathing while her nerves got the best of her. She had the profoundly sinking feeling that she and Bobby were in way over their heads.

The other door, to the left of the desk, opened and a partially bald, partially graying man stepped in. Smiling, he extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Frank Watkins, manager of this hotel and casino. And you are-- "

"It doesn't matter who we are," Bobby told him stiffly. "What matters is what we can do to you if we are unable to reach an agreement."

Frank sat in his chair behind his desk and sighed, steepling his fingers. "Yes, yes. Bruno has already briefed me on your threats. A thousand newspapers. Thousands of emails. Multiple hidden servers with rollover coverage capabilities. Et cetera, et cetera. And I'll let you know, I'm trembling in my shoes right about now. Before we continue, though, just what is it that you believe I have done?"

Bobby tsked. "Where should we start? Deprived people of their rights. Illegally detained and coerced people. Forcing-- "

Frank waved his hand. "Yes, yes, lots of very pretty political rhetoric. But just what the fuck is it that you think I've done to your family and friends?"

"You've brainwashed them, you sonofabitch! You've turned them into sex-obsessed maniacs!"

"I see. It would be a pretty powerful feat if I could do such a thing. How exactly do you think I pulled off this miracle of coercion?"

"We're not sure of the precise details of the mechanics," Mrs McCloud spoke up. "But we have a few theories. The victims seem to have spent a period of time playing your electronic gambling games. Particularly those in the Avacado Room."

"Hmmm, Princess. Interesting theory. And did you put all this complicated conspiracy idea together in your own sweet little head?"

Mrs McCloud scowled but refused to be baited. "We have a series of facts. We've tentatively speculated on how you've accomplished these crimes. At this point, we can either come to a deal, or we can let the police and FBI try their hand at speculating while you're behind bars."

"Now, listen here, you two little PUNKS." Frank stood and started wagging his index finger. "You don' wanna FUCK with me!"

"People know we're here!" Bobby jumped in, alarmed. "If we don't show up at an appointed time, they'll go-- "

"-- to the police and the papers," Frank completed his sentence.

"And there are all those emails-- "

"-- all set to go if you don't check in. Yes, I know. You've already informed me. Whaddya think? I'm gonna set cement around your feet, then take you out swimming? This is the NEW family, and we fight on TODAY'S battlefield."

The three stared at each other for several seconds.

"What... ehr... battlefield would that be?" Mrs McCloud finally asked.

Frank sat back and kicked his feet up on the desk. "I got a FLEET of lawyers on retainer, all snarling and drooling to sue your asses on everything from slander to extortion. You wanna take ME on? How many times're you ready to bend over for my battalion of lawyers?

"You got houses? They're mine. You got estate? It's mine. You got cars? I'll own 'em. You got bank accounts? I'll drain every last penny out of 'em. You got...

Mrs McCloud found her mind wandering while Mr Watkins went on ad nauseum with the consequences of "fucking" with him. But she suddenly snapped back to reality, startled at where her mind had drifted. Christ! What was THAT?!

Frank was still enumerating dire consequences. She self-consciously adjusted her seat in her chair and looked at Bobby. He appeared to be distracted, mind drifting too, when his eyes suddenly flared wide. He blinked, sat up straight in his chair, then cast a glance at Mrs McCloud, looking guilty over something.

A half minute later, Frank finished his last sentence -- a long one involving being "popped" and burning in hell, where his cousins would see to it that they got placed in the hottest pits -- straining the last gasp of air out of his lungs to do so, then he sucked in a lungfull. "So, in summary: do you two punks still want to try to take me on?" He glared at each of them, both of whom shifted guiltily in their chairs.

"I just want my family back," Bobby said finally. "I want them back to normal. That's all I want. That's not too much to ask, is it?"

Silence.

"Aaaww, kid... you've touched me." Frank tapped his fist to his chest twice. "You've really touched me. You just want a home, dontcha? And it's good to stand up for family. It's the right thing to do. Ya know... you remind me of myself at your age. And I'll give you this... it took BALLS to come in here, threatening me, threatening to destroy my business and my way of life, to do whatever it takes to get your family back, even if it costs ME everything." Was he really wiping a tear from his eye? "Tell ya what, kid. You win. I can't mistreat somethin'... somethin' this NOBLE!" He stood and walked to the door. "You two stay here. I'm gonna go make things right." Then he was gone.

"Do you trust him?" Bobby asked finally.

"Not even as much as a child molester in a pre-school."

"Me either."

They waited in silence several moments.

"If you smell anything funny or feel sleepy, say something. We'll break down the door if they try to gas us," he said with all the confidence of an eighteen-year-old.

It COULD be... it could be that Mr Watkins wouldn't HAVE to... "Bobby... are you sure that you didn't play any of those casino games?"

Bobby's eyes snapped to her. "I'm... POSITIVE. Why? You didn't... did you?"

"No! No... of course not." But... how could she tell him that her mind had drifted while Mr Watkins droned on? How could she tell him that she... SAW herself standing beside one of those gaming tables. Naked, in just high heels. Bent over at the waist. Pushing her ass back against a man sliding a vibrator in and out of her pussy. Her swollen... throbbing... SOAKED pussy. Making little squealing noises and gasps of pleasure. Around the cock stuffed in her mouth.

She shivered with a weird mix of excitement, anticipation, revulsion and horror. How could she tell him all that?!

How could she tell him that it... almost... seemed more like a memory than a fantasy?

"It's just that," she looked at him, seeking confidence in his eyes, seeking assurance that they were still in control. At least in control of themselves. "You said you went down and saw Kim getting groped and fondled by some guy while she played those games."

"Yeah..."

"Well... you're not the type of boy to just... abandon your sister while she's being taken advantage of."

"No... ," he said, barely breathing. "I wouldn't do that..."

"So... what happened next?"

Bobby swallowed hard. She was going someplace bad. "What... what do you mean?"

"Bobby, after you saw her being... molested... you didn't... just go back upstairs to bed... did you?"

What DID he do after he saw Kim Friday night? What had happened next?

Bobby was the coyote, and he had just chased the roadrunner off a cliff and out into the middle of the air. And he really... really!... REALLY! did not want ot look down. Because if he... DID look down, he wouldn't be able to magically stay up in the air anymore. He'd... meet the ground... hard...

"Bobby?"

How could he tell her that while Mr Watkins had droned on earlier, while he and Mrs McCloud were in this dire situation with their lives and even their minds at catastrophic risk -- how could he tell her that her couldn't get his mind to stop thinking how good her pretty red lips would feel wrapped tightly around his engorged dick?! How could he tell her that the fantasy was so clear that it almost seemed... real?!

"I don't... I don't want to talk about it."

"Bobby... if one of us has been... compromised... we need to-- "

"I don't want to TALK about it! He's going upstairs to get my FAMILY! And EVERYTHING'S going to be OKAY!"

"If you... say so..."

Grant and Guido, a combined twelve and a half feet of muscle dressed in dark shirts and dark suits, strolled up the hallway to fetch a hotel patron for Mr Watkins.

"Which room d'ya think she's in?"

"I don't know. We'll start with her room, then her daughter's, then the boy's girlfriend's, and so on."

"Ah, you're not any more fun than Bruno. D'ya think she's with a guy or a girl, or just doin' herself?"

"We'll find out when we get there."

Guido shrugged and started whistling as they walked. Well, at least the whistling stopped his chatter, Grant thought.

They reached Mr and Mrs Keegan's hotel room, and Grant rapped on the door.

A pretty blonde, nude except for heels, answered the door. "Keegan Cathouse," she smiled. "Rowrrrr!"

"Mrs Keegan?" Grant asked.

"No, I'm Annie Lay-TON, and you're welcome to lay ME!"

"Thank you. Perhaps after work hours, ma'am. Is Mrs Keegan in?"

"Sure, right this way." She led them up the interior hallway, swaying her hips. "Two more pricks for the party!" she announced to the room occupants.

Grant and Guido stepped around the corner. On one bed was a dark-haired woman on her hands and knees, her face pressed ot the mattress, a thin pink dildo partially protruding from her asshole, obviously Mrs Keegan. Unfortunately, on the other bed, in the same pose with the same pink paraphenalia protruding from the same place, was Mr Keegan.

With a chuckle, Guido elbowed Grant and pointed at the mister.

"Yeah, hush." He turned to the lady in the bed. "Mrs Keegan?"

She turned her head to look at them, but held her pose, ass and pink dildo tip high in the air. "Yes?"

"Ma'am, the hotel and casino manager requests a few minutes of your time, if you'll come with us."

Denise Keegan's brow furrowed. "You?" She crawled off the bed and stood, the neon pink dildo tip dancing around as her ass moved.

"Follow the bouncing pink ball," Guido muttered.

Mrs Keegan frowned at Grant. "You are, aren't you?!"

"Ma'am?"

"You're that savage that hefted me over his shoulder like a slab of meat, then paraded me back through the crowd, helpless, to dump me unceremoniously on my table! In front of this BITCH!" She gestured toward Annie.

"Ma'am, if I did that, it was nothing personal. Just my job."

"You BRUTE! I have NEVER been so SHAMED in my LIFE!"

"I apologize, ma'am. But Mr Watkins would still appreciate-- "

"Wanna do it AGAIN?!" she grinned.

"Ma'am?"

"I don't think I've EVER been so humiliated -- OR so WET! -- as that night you lugged me around like some sex doll that you could just USE! Anytime you WANTED! And I was HELPLESS to STOP you!"

Oh, Lord. Why did he always get the weird ones?

"Sex doll! Way to go, Grant!"

"Shut up, Guido. Ma'am, if you could just come with us-- "

"Nooooo... I think you're gonna have to CUFF me and THROW my ass over your shoulder again, you big slab of muscle!"

"Hey, I'm a pretty big slab too, lady."

"Shut up, Guido. Ma'am, let's just be reasonable..."

"Noooo," she giggled and reached for his crotch, "Unless you cuff me, I'm gonna grab your dick and pull on it until you squirt me in the face."

Grant successfully danced back out of the way of her hand. "Ma'am, please."

"Oh, come on," she said, reaching again. "A little girl like me doesn't scare a big tuff guy like you, do I?"

Guido got a grip on her wrists from behind and slipped the cuffs off his belt and onto her. She didn't struggle much.

"Ooooh... you've GOT me! Wanna cop a feel while there's nothing I can do to stop you? G'head. Take advantage of me," she smiled.

"Guido!" Grant warned as the other man's hand started to move towards her chest. Guido tsked and let his hand drop.

"Now, throw me over your shoulder!" she grinned.

Grant sighed. "Pull that cover off the bed and wrap it around her so she's presentable."

"Hey! I AM presentable!" She bounced her boobies.

"Just do it," Grant said when Guido looked at him and shrugged.

"And, here, take THIS out!" Grant removed the pink tube from her ass.

"Hey! You're supposed to kiss me before you do that!" she muttered.

Guido stripped the top cover off and wrapped it around the woman.

Sighing again, Grant hefted her over and held her legs to his chest.

"Oh, good!" Denise giggled, her hands bound behind her back.

"Wait, wait. She wouldn't feel right without this," Annie said.

"Annie! Don't you DARE! You bitch!"

Annie lifted the bed cover to expose Denise's ass. WHACK! "What was that, Denise?"

"You BITCH!"

WHACK!

"What was that?"

"I said... don't make me too wet... people will be able to smell me in the halls."

Grant and Guido stepped out of the room and carried the humiliated woman to the elevator.

"I think I just peed myself."

Bobby raised his brows. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, Bobby, I'm so nervous, I think I just pissed myself! I'm all wet between my legs."

"Uhm... can I get you a towel? Or something?"

"Noooo! I just made a mess in my crotch! I can't BELIEVE-- "

"Mrs McCloud?"

"Yes?"

"You're acting strange."

"No, I'm not. ANYONE would be upset if they just pissed on their own panties. Especially if she were still IN them at the time."

"Uhm... most people wouldn't announce their accident."

"Well, that's the cool part. It wasn't an accident. I very consciously acknowledged that I'm feeling stressed and thought I might feel better with the sensation of urine passing through my urethra."

"And... DID you?"

"Feel better?"

"Yes."

"Yeah!"

"You're right... you're not acting strange. You're acting bizarre."

Mrs McCloud stood, unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor. "Look, Bobby! The front of my panties are SOAKED! They're TRANSPARENT!"

"Uhm... Mrs McCloud... remember what you said... if one of us has been compromised?"

"Well, I'VE been compromised! The front of my skirt has a big, wet spot! Be a gentleman and give me your pants, Bobby."

"Uhm, I'm sorry. I can't do tha-- "

"Bobby! Give me your goddam PANTS!"

"I can't! You just need to-- "

Mrs McCloud stuck her thumbs in her waistband and thrust her pelvis forward. "Bobby, give me your pants! Or I'll pee on YOU!"

"Mrs McCloud! Don't!"

"I'll DO it! I WILL! Give me your pants!"

Bobby stood, unzipped and yanked his pants off. "You WANT them?!" he held them out angrilly. "You WANT them?!"

The door opened, and Frank unsuspectingly stepped in, then took in the unusual scene before him.

Several moments creeped by tensely. They were slightly less comfortable than the U.S. president trying to think how to explain that he just set his scrabble game down on the red button and unleashed thermonuclear apocalypse upon the world.

"Ahem," Mrs McCloud took her seat, crossed her legs and forced a pleasant smile.

"Ahem," Bobby let his pants drop to the floor and took his seat.

Frank shook his head, trying to cast out that vision, and sat.

Several more moments passed as each tried to think of a way to continue after something like that.

"Are you returning this boy's family to him now?" Mrs McCloud asked finally.

Frank looked at her, then deliberately shifted his gaze to Bobby without answering her. "Y'know, son, this isn't all a bad thing."

"What do you mean?"

"Heeey," Frank chuckled. "How many times have you gotten laid this weekend?"

"He doesn't NEED your help 'getting laid'! He already knows more about mature adult relationships than you EVER will!"

Frank glanced at her with a look of scorn, then looked back to Bobby, again without a word to her. "Is that what you want, Bobby? A mature adult relationship? Or would you rather have a slutty little fuck-kitten?"

"Uhm..."

"Bobby! Tell him! Tell him that you want someone to RELATE TO! Someone to have INTELLIGENT DISCUSSIONS WITH! TELL him!"

"Uhm..."

Frank gave a broad grin. "She wouldn't make a bad fuck-kitten, would she? If we could get her fixed, I mean. De-clawed. Sexed up."

"Hey!"

Bobby gave a guilty grin.

"Bobby?!"

"You've had fantasies about this one, haven't you, son?"

"Stop TALKING about me like I wasn't HERE!"

"Yeah," Bobby gave a shy smile.

"Tell me about them."

"Well... she's in the front of the class. You know, naked. And she's teaching us about the parts of the body. Pointing them out... on herself."

"Bobby?!"

"And then... she calls me up to the front of the room. To... you know... demonstrate how a man screws a woman."

"BOBBY?!"

"Good fantasy, kid. But I'll bet she mewls like a kitten in your fantasy instead of screeching like this."

"I do NOT SCREECH!"

Bobby just nodded to Frank.

"You STOP corrupting this boy with your PERVERSIONS! You BASTARD!"

Frank looked at her and spoke to her for the first time since re-entering the room. "Do I intimidate you, princess?"

"YOU! ARE! A! SLEAZY! CORRUPTOR!"

"Princess, princess. You're gonna pop a blood vessel. Calm down."

"Do NOT tell me to CALM DOWN!"

"Oooh... princess, do you need a pacifier to suck on?" He stood and unzipped.

"YOU--! STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Frank unbelted and let his pants drop.

Mrs McCloud swallowed hard and dropped her volume. "You... you can... NOT... control me..."

"Really? Can't I?" Frank asked, using his fingers to sway his erection from side to side enticingly.

Mrs McCloud felt torn, felt like she had climbed halfway up a cliff face. At the bottom of the cliff arose Frank's erection. At the top of the cliff stood her self-will. Did she let go, to fall and be impaled on Frank's cock? Or did she force herself to climb, to assert her will, to declare her independence from this sleazy turd? Her arms were SOOOOOOO tired, though.

At the top of the cliff, she realized, stood her husband too. A fireman. A noble saver of lives. Drawing on the strength of what he stood for, and on their love for each other, she forced one hand up to a higher handhold. Then up another. And another. Then another.

Her husband, her partner, glowed at the top, with love for her, with RESPECT for her. How could she betray that respect?! Hand after hand, she made her way up the cliff face.

And the farther she went, the easier it became. Independence, once asserted, strengthens itself! The more she declared herself to be the master of her fate, the more it became true!

Before she knew it, she was at the top of the cliff, and her husband reached his hand down, to greet her, to congratulate her, to raise her up the last three feet. She clasped it, and he lifted her up, to stand beside him at the crest.

I defy you, she declared out from the cliff. I am the master of my fate! I control my own decisions!

A faint smile appeared at the corners of her mouth, her will, her independence reinforced now with self-knowledge. She stood and leaned forward over the table between them to jab her finger in Frank's face.