Chapter 4

I couldn't believe how late I had slept. It was the first good night's sleep I had since coming home from the hospital. Sitting at the kitchen table with my tilted head resting on my upturned palm, I gazed out the window as if I didn't have a care in the world. It was a glorious day. The bright sunlight flooded the room, causing the white semi-gloss painted walls to shimmer like a heavenly star. The late morning sky was blue with a few fluffy clouds. The chirping birds brought a small smile to my lips as I held the coffee cup suspended midway to my mouth. My smile broadened as I looked at the hand holding the cup -- it was steady.

For the first time since my beating, I was not afraid. My brand new Bersa Thunder 9 Ultra Compact pistol lay on the glass table within reach. Okay, it was used ... but it was my new pistol. I wondered if the black finish made it too masculine, but with a carefree shrug cleared my mind of that insignificant thought.

Over the past months, I had changed in so many ways. The new me liked the idea that people could own guns. The pistol had been under my pillow while I slept. I had placed it on the sink counter when I got ready in the bathroom. And then I brought it to the kitchen where I had an egg and toast for breakfast along with my much needed coffee. The gun gave me peace.

After placing the cup back on the saucer, I nudged the pistol with the tip of my finger. I twirled it. And then I picked it up. It fit nicely in my hand and was much lighter than it looked. The salesman had said it weighed only 27 ounces. It was heavier now, with a loaded magazine, but it still wasn't hard to hold. It made me feel in control, invincible. I hope it's powerful enough, I thought, holding the gun in front of my face like I had the coffee cup. I don't want to do a half-assed job.

Laying the pistol on the table, I returned to my coffee and the wonderful world outside my window. I really enjoyed that cup of coffee.

After breakfast, I went to the supermarket. It was a task I wasn't particularly fond of, but I hummed as I pushed the cart up and down the aisles. My pocketbook was slung over my shoulder and I kept staring at people's faces. Can they tell I have a gun? If they could, would they be afraid of me?

When I returned home, I carefully placed the two paper bags filled with groceries on my doormat. I unlocked the front door and pushed it open. Then I stooped to retrieve the bags. Cradling them in my arms, I stepped inside and shoved the door shut with my butt. I was still humming.

I saw movement and froze. My humming stopped. My smile faded. Leia had come out of my living room and was standing with her hands on her hips.

"Where the fuck you been?" she said.

"What are you doing here? How'd you get into my house?"

"I have a key, you dumb bitch. Why did you go to the supermarket?"

"Huh? I, um, I needed food."

I was trembling. And then I remembered the gun. Relaxing my arms, both bags dropped to the floor. There was a splat as the plastic bottle split open and milk gushed onto the wood floor. The carton of eggs, which I had carefully placed on top of one bag, popped open when it hit the floor and the insides of the smashed eggs oozed out. I pulled my pocketbook off my shoulder and reached inside. Leia was laughing.

"I guess you'll have to go--"

Leia's words caught in her throat when I pulled out the black gun and pointed it at her. My hand was shaking, but that didn't matter. Leia turned white.

"No! Don't!" she screamed with both arms straight out, her palms facing me. "Don't shoot me!"

The hate welled up inside me and, closing my eyes, I pulled the trigger.

Nothing!

No sound!

Nothing!

I opened my eyes. Leia was in shock, visibly shaken. The front of her jeans had a dark wet spot and I noticed a yellow puddle at her foot. We stared at each other for I don't know how long.

And then Leia made a move towards me. I turned the gun onto its side and flipped the safety off, and then quickly pointed the gun at her again. She immediately froze, still leaning towards me. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and held it, and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The sound was deafening. The recoil was unexpected. The gun few from my hand and clattered on the wood floor. My eyes snapped open. Leia was running towards me. Her hands slammed into my chest, propelling me backwards. The back of my head crashed into the wall causing a dull pain, and then I saw her fist coming towards my face. Everything went black.

When I came to, I was sitting on the couch, slumped to the side over the arm. I moved my jaw from side to side and groggily sat up. When I went to rub my chin, I noticed my wrists were tied with a pair of my pantyhose. I looked up to see Leia sitting in the chair staring at me, pointing my gun.

"You're gonna pay for that," she said with venom in her voice. "Your big mistake was missing. Now I got the gun and you got a big hole in your wall. I should kick your fuckin' ass for trying to kill me, but I can't mess you up. You have a date tonight."

"I can't do this anymore. I won't!"

"You won't, huh? Should I call the girls over?"

"That won't work. No way will you get away with it a second time."

"You know, you might be right." I felt a little at ease until she wagged the gun at me. "Maybe we'll end it now."

A sudden tightness gripped my stomach and I doubled over. With my forearms resting on my knees and my head down, I vomited all over my shoes and the carpet. When I looked up Leia had the gun in her lap.

"I'm not gonna kill you," she said. "I have other plans for you. But you may be right. Maybe beating you up won't work again. But I don't have to. You're gonna do what I say anyway."

I desperately needed a drink of water and wiped my mouth with my shoulder. Through the foul taste, I shouted, "I'm not! I won't! You can't make me."

I cringed when Leia stood holding the gun. But she tucked it into the waistband of her jeans. Leaning over the chair, she reached into her pocketbook and removed what looked like a CD. She walked to my TV equipment and put it into the DVD player. I waited as she turned everything on and pressed the play button.

I expected to see the FBI copyright warning or the movie studio's beginning, so you can imagine my surprise when I saw me sitting on the floor in my living room. I glanced at Leia and then back to the TV monitor. And then I gasped. I was talking to Jedi, telling him I was going to teach him all about sex. The camera wasn't always centered on me, and it often shook, but it was good enough to show it was me and what I was doing. The bottom of the screen had something strange, and then I realized it was the top of a knee -- Leia's knee. When she had said she wanted to watch me teach Jedi all about sex, she had a small digital video camera on her lap filming it. Sometimes part of her pocketbook also came into view. She had used her large pocketbook to shield the camera from me. If I had been paying more attention to her I probably would have seen the camera, but at the time I was focused on Jedi. I had thought he was my threat. I was wrong.

The DVD was in the middle of Jedi's first fuck when Leia turned it off.

"This is just one copy," Leia said when I looked at her. "We each got a copy."

"So?"

"Did you like what you did with my mother?"

"Of course not. It was disgusting and sick."

"Well, a pretty little thing like you will be very popular in prison. You're gonna be licking so many horny dykes' cunts and assholes that you're gonna forget what a cock looks like. I was gonna make you pay for how you treated me and the girls, but I never planned to do it for a real long time. But if you go to prison, it will be for a very long time. So it's your choice. You do what I say 'til I get tired of you, or you become the sex toy of the prison dykes."

Slack-jawed and speechless, I stared at Leia.

"And if you thought we beat you up, just wait," Leia continued. "Those chicks are mean mother-fuckers. You'll be beat up so much you'll wish you were dead."

I began trembling uncontrollably. Ever since the assault, I had recurring nightmares, waking up sweaty with my arms and legs flaying, sometimes screaming, always finding it difficult to breathe. And always afraid. Leia's words brought back the trauma of that day and I began hyperventilating.

"Hey, calm down," Leia said. "If you do what I tell you then you won't go to prison. There's a frat party tonight and you're the guest of honor. Since it's summer, there won't be a full house, but you will be fucking and sucking who's there. If you wanna go to prison, don't show up. If you don't, come to the frat house at eight tonight wearing the clothes I laid out on your bed. I left the address there too.

Leia walked up to me. I flinched and leaned back when she pulled a knife from her pocketbook and opened the blade. But all she did was slice through the pantyhose.

"I'll keep the gun, so don't get any more stupid ideas," Leia said. "I know how to use it even if you don't."

I watched her strut out of my house.

I was numb, feeling more helpless than I had before I bought the gun. The gun had given me false hope. I should have learned how to shoot it. And I shouldn't have asked for a powerful gun. I learned the hard way that a 9mm was too powerful a weapon for me. But now I had no gun. Leia had the gun. And she and the other girls had the DVD that would send me to prison for a long, long time.

I sat on the couch for over half an hour with my face cupped in my hands. I wracked my brains trying to think of a way out, but couldn't. When my tears subsided, I pushed myself off the couch. My foot slid out from under me and I fell into the pool of puke.

I stared at my palm. It was dripping vomit. I wiped it on my pants and stood up more carefully. I had to clean the carpet before it stained. I headed for the kitchen to get paper towels. I stopped. The foyer needed cleaning as well. A puddle of piss was on the floor where Leia had stood and she had tracked it to other places as well. And in front of the door was a mess. Around the grocery bags, there was broken glass and spilled salad dressing, broken eggs, and a pool of milk. And that was what I was able to see without going through the bags.

I wanted nothing more than to get into my car and drive until I was in another state. But the smell of vomit on my clothes brought me back to reality. I stripped in the foyer and rolled my soiled pants around my tennis shoes, and then I stuffed them into a garbage bag to be thrown out later. Then I went to work cleaning up the mess of my failed attempt at killing Leia.

Afterwards, I went straight to the master bathroom. I brushed my teeth and took a hot shower. Reentering the bedroom I stopped dead in my tracks, for the first time spotting the clothing lying on my bed.

I held the sheer white blouse against my front and looked down. I could see right through it. Dropping it onto the bed, I picked up the black leather skirt. It was unbelievably short. Holding it against my body I saw just how short it was. If I sat or bent over, my panties would surely be seen. A pair of charcoal colored thigh-high stockings lay on the bed. Then I noticed the note. In addition to the address and a reminder of the time I was expected, it told me not to wear any kind of undergarments. I dropped the note, my hand flying to cover my open mouth.

I threw on a robe and moped around the house until dinner time. I ate alone, deep in thought. Again I looked for a way out, but came up empty. I thought about going to prison. That terrified me. The women there were sure to be worse than Leia. They were hardened criminals. I wouldn't survive.

Leia had said I'd have to have sex with a bunch of horny college boys. That was humiliating, but a lot better than the abuse I'd surely get in prison. I could survive that. And Leia had given me hope. She had said, "You do what I say 'til I get tired of you." That meant it wouldn't last forever. I was strong. I could endure almost anything for a short period of time. As long as there was hope I could survive anything.

I glanced up at the clock on the kitchen counter. It was after seven. I had to hurry. If I was late Leia would assume I chose prison. I left the dirty dishes on the table and ran to my bedroom. I hesitated next to the bed staring down at the clothing. But I had made up my mind -- I could survive it.

Letting the robe fall from my shoulders, I sat on the side of the bed and pulled the stockings up, first one leg and then the other. Then I put on the blouse and finally stepped into the black leather miniskirt. I tucked in the blouse and zipped up the skirt. I selected shoes with a very short heel for comfort.

Standing in front of the mirror, I screamed, "Oh God!"

My naked breasts and dark areoles and nipples clearly showed through. I turned and looked over my shoulder. The bottom of my buttocks peeked below the hem of the skirt. With a hand pressed to each side of the skirt, I shoved it down as far as my hips would allow. It covered my buttocks -- barely. Then I glanced down my front and saw how much skin showed between my bellybutton and the waistband of the skirt. I didn't wear bikinis that low. Looking over my shoulder again I took a deep breath and held it, and then I bent over just a little. The skirt rode up my ass. I gasped and instantly stood up, pushing the skirt down. There was no way I would keep my modesty. What are you thinking? You're going to... I couldn't finish the thought. It was too painful.

It was too warm a night for a coat, but I put one on anyway. I couldn't walk out of my house dressed the way I was. It was a summer raincoat so not too heavy, but definitely out of place on the star-filled, balmy night. As soon as I sat in the car my skirt rode up. All I could do was pull the sides of the raincoat together and drive off.

The university wasn't far from my home, and although the fraternities were off campus they were nearby. I drove slowly through fraternity row until I spotted the large Greek letters on the front of the big house. I double-checked that they were the same ones written on the paper Leia had left me. They were. I got out of my car and hesitated, and then removed the raincoat and tossed it into the car. Tugging my skirt down, I walked to the front door, waited, and then rang the bell.

A college boy wearing an open collared green golf shirt and jeans opened the door. He couldn't have been more than 20 years old. His big brown eyes looked me up and down, and then he whistled.