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itchapter3 · 4 years

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Here it is, my gift for this year’s It Fandom Secret Santa

Ao3 Link (x)

My Secret Santa was @dark-alice-lilith I hope you like it! I used the prompt for college au/staying in the dorms over break with the paring eddie/richie.

@itfandomsecretsanta

The door opens and a brief gust of wind bursts through as a giant shapeless blob of coats, scarves, and reusable shopping bags shuffles in. Eddie looks up from his laptop screen to see this before it disappears behind the barrier that separates the dorm rooms’ shared kitchen from the laundry room.

Going back to the work in front of him Eddie decides to ignore the interruption until-

“Fuck!”

More shuffling, the sounds of containers being stacked and moved around then, once more with feeling.

“Fuck…”

Eddie closes his laptop with a sigh and prays that this is not a huge mistake.

“You okay in there?”

Some more shuffling, then an actual human being emerges from behind the wall.

And… he’s actually kind of cute Eddie’s traitorous mind notices. Beneath all the layers of coats and scarves he’s a tall, dark haired, blue eyed dream with admittedly silly looking glasses, but bone structure that more than made up for it.

“Just debating on whether or not I should try and walk all the way back to the store to get an egg or just end it all here and now.”

“Well I’d appreciate you not turning the common area into a crime scene I really wouldn’t advise going out there again, I’ve already gotten three seperate warnings about the snowpocalypse happening outside.” Eddie gives the guy another once over, despite the hat the ends of his hair are still dripping with melted snow. Taking pity on him he continues. “I may have a carton of eggs in my mini fridge, if you tell me exactly what you’re attempting to do with them.”

The other guy smiles and holds up a bag of flour.

“How do you feel about chocolate chip cookies?”

Eddie smiles back.

“Hmm… I deem them… worthy of me walking to my room to get eggs.”

“Yes!”

His arm shoots up in victory.

Eddie grabs his keys and laptop and by the time he looks up from that there is an arm holding the door open for him. He nods and leads the way.

The guy follows him, mostly quietly, though he does hum a few notes along the way.

“Eddie.” He says as they both reach the dorm room.

“Yes?”

“I just realized we never actually introduced ourselves.” He says, pointing out the name tag still taped to the door. “I’m Richie.”

“Oh, shit.” Eddie feels like hitting himself over the head, he just basically invited a total stranger into his room. At least he seems nice enough, has a nice enough name, although it seems a little familiar for some reason. “Nice to meet you, Richie…”

He unlocks the door then, in a sudden moment of clarity whips around with an accusatory finger pointed at-

“Richie!”

“Eddie!” He tries to mirror back, but Eddie just narrows his eyes at him.

“You- You were the one that started that snowball fight last week!”

He can remember clearly now the last time he heard that name, an exasperated ‘ Richie! ’ yelled from the quad between the dorm’s two halls during finals week just before the sounds of projectiles being thrown and the window shaking crack of one hitting his own started up.

He had looked outside at the time, but all he could make out through the fog was two figures mercilessly pelting each other, alone. It would have been pretty funny had it not completely thrown off his concentration on his online Intro to Psych final.

“Guilty?” He gives Eddie a crooked grin, which shouldn’t be cute, it should be annoying right now!

“I was going to bargain for it later, but I’m officially staking claim to half of the cookies since you almost broke my window!”

Richie just nods.

“That seems… a fair and worthy payment.”

“Good, because it is.” Eddie shoots back.

He throws the laptop on his bed and goes for the fridge underneath it, pulling out a half-dozen carton of eggs.

Richie is scanning the various movie and band posters around the room with appreciation when he looks up and Eddie feels an excited dip in his stomach despite himself, he’s pleased that Richie seems to have similar tastes as him.

“Got ‘em” He says.

Richie smiles.

“My hero!”

He hums, more happily on the way back to the common area, until he clears his throat.

“So, not to sound ungrateful but who the fuck keeps eggs in a dorm room? Aren’t those specifically made to hold beer and like… a jar of pickles you only open if you’re extremely high?”

“I am feeling the strangest sense of pity for your roommate right now.”

“Don’t, he’s a monster.” He says with a fond tone that makes it obvious he’s joking.

“Well, if you must know I don’t completely trust the cleanliness of the cafeteria and scrambled eggs are pretty much the only thing I know how to make.” Truth be told since moving out he’s probably been living on way too many frozen meals than is completely healthy, but that’s still better than getting salmonella from dodgy cafeteria food.

“That… is fair enough. I once picked up a spoon from the bin that had a piece of lettuce just full on stuck to the side of it.”

“And if I hadn’t already blacklisted it, that story alone would be enough to keep me from going there.”

“That’s exactly what my roommate said when I told him! You’ve got to meet Stan the man, Eddie!”

Eddie nods agreeingly, but something makes him want to take Richie up on that offer. He also really wants to introduce Bev to him, there’s just something that makes him feel like they would get along like a house on fire.

Once they’re back in the kitchen they start up cooking and chatting. It’s easier than Eddie expected to keep up a conversation and it turns out they have a lot in common, classes, comic books, taste in movies. Eddie measures as Richie stirs and soon enough they’re getting close to done.

“Ugh… my mom always makes this look so easy.” Richie looks at the recipe, pours a little more flour, directly from the bag, into the very sticky dough, and looks at the recipe again.

Eddie hums to himself, not having experience with either baking or watching his mother bake, but happy to watch the trial and error.

“Okay, I think it may be good now.”

Eddie looks over, and it definitely looks like cookie dough, hopefully it tastes like it too.

“Looks like it.”

As the cookies are baking Eddie hears a beep from the other side of the room and remembers why he had been in there in the first place.

“Wait!”

Eddie rushes to the dryers and pulls out a pile of soft fabrics. When he gets back he hands one over to Richie who takes it immediately before he even realizes what it is.

At the recognition he moans, pressing the dryer-warmed blanket to his face.

“I literally owe you my life now, Eds”

Eddie laughs at the muffled praise.

“I forgot I put those in there, I usually put them in on ten minute cycles just to keep me warm while I’m working.”

“Mmmm,” He finally removes the blanket from his face, instead draping it over his shoulders like a cape. “So you always spend the holidays here? This is my first time, it’s deader than I expected.”

“Yeah, it’s really usually only me and the RA’s around here. So, why did you decide to stay here instead of going home for break this time?”

“Eh, didn’t have much of a reason to go home, I mean, my family’s Jewish but we don’t really celebrate, I usually just go over to my friend Stan’s house, but he abandoned me now that he’s got some new hot piece to bring home.” He sighs dramatically. “So here I am, abandoned and alone, luckily I’ve been at the mercy of a very generous and very cute stranger, so I have high hopes for not getting murdered in this ghost town of a school.”

Eddie laughs, a blush rising in his cheeks at the mention of him being called cute.

“Well, don’t hold your breath, if I wasted my eggs on mediocre cookies I have been known to strike out in anger.”

Richie lets out a whistle.

“Well, I didn’t take you for the vengeance type.” He says in what Eddie guesses is supposed to be a cowboy accent.

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do then, partner.” Eddie drawls back at him, making him laugh.

When Richie sobers up he speaks again.

“You should come help me eat these in my room. Stan’s got this mondo TV with Netflix built right in! We can watch all the classics, pretend like we’re having a real Christmas!”

“I thought you were Jewish?”

“And I am selflessly putting that aside for you today, Eddie. Think of my sacrifice and then say no to my face.” He makes a face which must be his ridiculous attempt at puppy dog eyes. “Hmmm?”

Eddie lets out a laugh despite himself.

“Fine, fine. Only because of the sacrifice you’re making though, I live to see you suffer.”

Soon enough, the oven timer beeps and Richie pulls out a baking sheet full of perfectly browned, sweet smelling, chocolate chip cookies. Eddie burns the tip of his tongue, but declares them better than mediocre and they pack them up to head to Richie’s room in the other hall.

“Wow, your hall really gets into the holiday spirit… I’m actually pretty sure this is a fire hazard.” Eddie says as he takes in the canopy of white, red, and green lights hanging from every available surface.

“Yeah, I say blame Mike, he gets really into it and he’s somehow charmed all the RA’s into looking the other way when it comes to christmas lights.” Richie sighs fondly.

“I like it, we’d never get away with something like this in my hall.”

Eddie looks around, eyes bouncing from the perfectly arranged strings, overlapping and entwining with others. It really is a beautiful scene, more festive than he imagined ever seeing, and on campus no less.

“I guess you’ll have to come over here more often then, you should see what Mikey does for Easter!” He grins.

“I might just have to take you up on that.” And Eddie meant it, honestly as much as this break had taken a turn for the better he couldn’t wait until it was over so he could meet Richie’s friends, and introduce his own in turn.

Once inside Richie’s dorm, Eddie took a minute to take it in. It’s a lot bigger than his own since it’s a double, which he knows is shared with Stan, and the two sides could not be more different. One is meticulously organized, dorm standard furniture in the pre-approved configuration, bed made to what Eddie guesses would be military standards, textbooks stacked cleanly on the desk, the few personalizations seemed to be a few bird posters and brain teaser puzzles scattered around.

“I told you Stan’s a nerd!” Richie calls, noticing him looking around.

The other half looks more lived in, much more lived in. It’s darker, the walls are almost completely covered in posters and the dark blue plaid bedspread, which is not anywhere near made up, gives it a grungy sort of look. Eddie knows before he even processes it that this side must be Richie’s, and he takes his time looking over the little details that make it his. He’s got books and binders in a pile that honestly looks like he just turned over his backpack and let things fall where they would. The posters are mostly bands, David Bowie, The Cure, Nirvana, and a few that Eddie doesn’t recognize, must be newer ones by the look of them, he’s also got tickets from shows he’s been to taped up between the posters, mostly concerts but a few musicals and even one for a local drag show.

Eddie also notices the rather large TV set up against the far wall so that it can be seen well from either bed.

Richie must have been busy while Eddie was snooping because when he turns around from looking at the TV he's got the remote in one hand and about half of the cookies they made on a plate in the other.

“Pretty sweet right?” He says, motioning for Eddie to take a seat on the bed.

Eddie nods.

“After you.”

Richie obliges, putting the plate down so he can climb up on the messy bed. He pulls the pillows up to the head as he gets himself comfortable, on top of the duvet but under the blanket Eddie had given him.

Eddie follows him up, sitting with his back up against the headboard and looks down at Richie.

“Well, what are we watching?”

As Richie rattles off the different services Stan has built into the TV and Eddie just hums along and let’s Richie choose Netflix to start while he tries to focus on the words he’s saying rather than the warmth of him lying so close. Eddie’s a little afraid if he opens his mouth to talk he’ll scream out loud about how he’s sitting in Richie’s bed right now . Richie who is very cute and very nice and even pretty funny and has friends who sound pretty great too who he can’t wait to meet, and now he’s thinking about how much Bev would like him and-

It’s a lot, Richie’s a lot. But Eddie kind of likes that about him.

After Eddie’s vetoed three separate hallmark-esque rom coms, and Richie’s vetoed an admittedly pretty horrible looking movie about cgi kittens they land on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer which Eddie has never seen and Richie argues that that in itself is a crime.

After that’s over they decide to continue on with the series and somewhere around The Year Without Santa and Frosty the two of them conk out, the comfort and warmth lulling them asleep in Richie’s shared bed.

Richie wakes up first.

“Eddie...Eds!” He gives him a little shake as the credits music pours into the room.

He’s close enough that he can see Eddie crack an eye open.

“Mmm, lemme get your glasses.”

Richie doesn’t have time to process that because Eddie is turning around in a sleepy, cat-like stretch, reaching over the bed to where Richie really can’t see, but knows that his bedside table sits. Then he hands over the glasses and all at once Eddie comes into focus, his hair is sleep-ruffled, his eyes are still not-quite awake, there’s a red splotch on his face from where his hand must have been pillowing it, and all Richie can really focus on is how many freckles he has on his nose.

It takes Richie a minute but he realizes, once his vision is completely back to normal, that Eddie is staring at him too. His wide brown eyes are now locked onto his.

“You lookin’ at the zit on my nose?” Richie glances at him sideways before pushing himself completely up to face him. He presses a finger to the tip of his nose. “Just like Rudolph, huh?”

“I like Ruldolph! I think he’s cute…” Eddie huffs, a blush rising on his cheeks as well.

“Ohoho! I had no idea you were into beastiality, gotta say, Eds, you keep a man on his toes.”

“Shut up.” He warns.

Richie grins, he’s quickly finding that the more riled up he can get Eddie the better.

“I mean, does this thing of yours extend to Bumble, or-”

Eddie puts his warning into action and presses his lips to Richie’s, directly shutting him up.

Richie melted into the kiss, Eddie’s soft and warm against him, and he can taste the chocolate from the cookies they made together. It’s nice and sweet and a little feisty just like Eddie, but it’s also shorter than Richie would have liked, he thinks, as Eddie breaks the kiss with a heavy breath.

“I’m so glad I decided to stay here over break.”

Eddie grins, and the way he does tells Richie he is too.

#it secret santa #reddie #reddie fanfiction

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zecretsanta · 6 years

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sudden loss of air, impressions in despair

To: @chainek (galagaleeny)

From: @nursedianaklim

Tried to fulfill all the prompts… might have gotten a bit too ambitious, but I wanted to fulfill your whole list.

Ao3

“Junpei!”

“How was I supposed to know it was on? Why would a store have a blender plugged in? It’s not like people come in here to try them out.”

He took her hand and it sent shivers up her spine, for the umpteenth time. The other customers were still staring at them, some chuckling with amusement, others frowning in disapproval at the ruckus they had created. But Junpei was right – it didn’t make sense for Williams Sonoma to have blenders plugged in right on the display so people could turn them on. He had been so startled by the noise that he fumbled in trying to press the off button and knocked it to the floor. Luckily it didn’t seem broken, and nobody was demanding they cough up the $899.99 for the Vitamix Professional Series 1020 Blender.

“Do we really need any of this stuff, though?” he asked as they moved into specialty electronics. Akane ran her fingers over the cool metal of a Zojirushi Rice Cooker – on sale for $449.99 – and it brought up a brief flash of memory. Aoi said their mother never used rice cookers; always on the stove. She thought she could recall watching her stir it, wooden spoon in a big red pot.

They had only ever used rice cookers in the institution they had lived in, after. Good people, but too many abandoned and orphaned and lost children and not enough adults to provide for all their needs. Even before Aoi had officially become her legal guardian, he had watched over her and kept her safe. Made sure she got up for school, did her homework, ate healthily, and slept peacefully.

“You okay?”

She met his concerned eyes and nodded. Junpei didn’t look convinced, but eventually shifted his gaze to the appliances just ahead. “Four hundred dollars for a toaster?”

“Probably for people with big families or who entertain.” She could imagine the two of them having friends over. Their wedding rings clinking against the plates as they brought tempura out for dinner. Sneaking secret smiles at each other as Light or Aoi or Sigma or Phi chattered on about their new lives, before they moved into the living room. The house she and Aoi had rented when they were doing research in Washington had a fireplace, and she loved the idea of sitting with Junpei around the hearth.

There were times back in the institution when the space heaters would run out of kerosene, so Aoi would take her and their blankets down to the laundry room. They would bundle up with the warm sheets until they went cool, then swap them out with hot ones fresh from the industrial-sized dryer, so they could get through the cold nights.

“I could buy four toasters for sixty bucks at the Family Dollar and I bet they work just as well,” he scoffed. “I can’t ask our friends to buy something like that. Besides, you and Aoi have a ton of money.”

Akane could feel her face morphing into a mirror of Junpei’s frown. “We won’t list only expensive items. But … this is about creating our own home.”

“They have a wine club?”

Although she had seen signs for it before, but couldn’t remember sommeliers ever being present in the store for wine tastings. He sauntered over to where a smiling blonde was offering him some merlot.

“Should you really be drinking?”

He knocked back the wine and tossed the glass behind him. “Of course I should be. I need something to forget everything you’ve done to me.”

“J-J-Junpei?”

More wine, another glass. This time, he glared at her as he threw it to the ground. “You ruined my life, Kanny. Why would I ever want to marry you?”

“This is a dream, isn’t it?”

The lights dimmed until she could barely see his face. He took her hand again, but without the gentleness of before. “We’re both in the field. I’ll remember this, too. Another disapp-”

She woke, but kept her eyes closed; as she wasn’t entirely disengaged, she could still feel his phantom touch on her skin. She could smell him, although his usual comforting scent was tinged with the stench of beer.

Aoi’s frustrated grunts and rapid key-tapping told her he was still awake and something was happening with the market. The TSE, probably, at this time of night. Unless she had slept for longer than she thought.

When she had shaken off the last bit of Junpei’s mind, Akane opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness. The only source of light was his laptop, which he had dimmed and angled away.

That’s not our future, she assured herself. That’s not his future. I’m going to make sure of it.

* * *

She might have been dislocating Clover’s shoulder, but better that than her being dead. Alice yanked, roughly, ignoring the other woman’s screaming. She would break her arm, rip it off, do whatever she had to do to get Clover back on this side of the cliff. She knew her pants were ruined, that her knees would be bruised and bloody.

“I’m going to kill him,” Clover roared as she finally made it back up onto firm ground.

“Not if I get to him first.”

Even once they were both safely away from the edge, Alice held on tight to Clover, ignoring the wind and the rain. When they both started to shiver, she got them to their feet and headed north, keeping a firm grip on Clover’s hand. They were easily a good mile from their car. Clover’s gun was somewhere at the bottom of that ravine; Alice was out of bullets and had lost her spare clip.

“Don’t you ever run off like that again.” Because of the weather, she had to yell back at Clover to make sure she was heard.

“He was getting away.”

“He got away regardless!”

“But you said he might have information on your father. I couldn’t let him get away!”

That got Alice to stop in her march back to the car. She thought Clover had gone after Bozeman to get revenge for him kicking her in the face. A raindrop splashed into her eye and when she wiped it away, she felt the false lashes come off.

“You don’t do something like that again, you understand?!” There was a volume and an edge to her voice that had nothing to do with being heard over the pounding rain. Clover didn’t respond, or more accurately, probably grumbled something under her breath that Alice couldn’t make out.

After what felt like a million years, they made it back to the car. She had to dry off both the sensor and her thumb twice before the door would unlock. The leather seats felt horrible against her soaked clothing and skin. As soon as Alice hit the ignition, Clover pressed the radio presets in the order that would turn off the internal camera – activated automatically by weight in the seats – and surprised her by grabbing her head and kissing her, hard. Their cold and trembling lips slid against each other for only a moment before Alice pulled away.

“What did I say? Not in the field.”

“Nobody can see us.” How Clover could manage to look like she was pouting and glaring at the same time, she’d never know. She gestured angrily at the rain slanting heavily against the windshield, obscuring the outside world. “And you saw me shut down the camera.”

“Not at work. We agreed.”

Alice’s hands shook as she set the heat as high as it would go. Clover grabbed the first aid kit from under her seat and then slumped back against the lumbar support. She treated her scrapes as Alice drove as quickly as she dared.

“We have to be careful,” Alice said finally, when she felt her voice wouldn’t waver.

“I know.”

“They would split us up if they knew. We could even get fired. Fraternization is forbidden.”

“I know.”

“I can’t lose … my chance to find who killed my father.”

Although she could feel Clover staring at her, she stayed focused on the road. The rhythmic swishing of the wipers was the only sound for the longest time.

“I know.” Softer, this time. “I understand.”

Not everything had to be spelled out explicitly.

* * *

“It’s just me!” she called out as she stepped inside, swiftly moving to the alarm keypad. Diana’s car had been in the garage, so Rebecca knew she was here, but when she didn’t get an immediate response, she started to worry. Diana’s purse and keys were still on the table in the hall – right next to pepper spray and a panic button – and she could smell the chicken fettuccine in the slow cooker.

“Diana?”

No response from upstairs. Down the hall, the back door was open, but she tried not to jump to conclusions. And sure enough, Diana was safe and sound, kneeling in the dirt, tending to the poor, neglected flowers there. Gardening was one of those skills that Rebecca wanted to have, but didn’t seem capable of learning. Even talking to the plants – as Diana had suggested, as she was doing to them right now – only seemed to encourage them to commit suicide.

“You’re home early,” she said when she glanced up to see Rebecca.

“The meeting didn’t take quite as long as we thought. Simmons didn’t try to fight it. Turned in his keys and cleaned out his locker in silence.”

“Oh, good.” Diana gave her an almost-smile. She missed seeing the real ones, the bright, beautiful, beaming ones brought on by an adorable puppy or a happy child or a patient making it safely through their trip to the ER. The ones that started to appear less frequently after their marriage and had mostly disappeared, nowadays.

“Are these new?” There were bright purple flowers in her garden, leaning over as if they planned to eat her. The bottom part of it even looked like a tongue on the inside.

“They’re called ‘fairy slippers’. It’s uncommon that they’d be blooming this early. Or at least, that’s what the woman at the nursery told me.” Diana ran a finger over one of the one of the petals.

“You’ll have to stop by more often to make sure I don’t kill it.”

The almost-smile faded completely away and Rebecca felt like someone had injected ice water in her veins. It was silly, stupid. She was the one who saw the ad. She was the one who brought it to Diana’s attention. She was the one who kept asking her to consider it. She wanted Diana to do it.

“You’ve decided, then?”

Diana nodded, stood up and dusted the dirt off her pants. She tossed the gardening gloves in the bucket and headed towards the house, her hand brushing Rebecca’s as she passed by.

It was the best decision for Diana to make. She knew that. The money would give her the freedom to go anywhere. Get away from him. No more threats left on her voicemail, no more nasty messages keyed into her car. No more making sure every new security guard they hired could recognize her ex-husband on sight.

But it meant once this Mars simulation was over, there was a chance the last time Rebecca would see Diana was when she came back to pack up her stuff and move far, far away. And if that happened, all she would want to do is pack up her own life and follow her, even if that ended up being actually to Mars.

“It does something called ‘pollination by deception.’” Diana was paused in the doorway and Rebecca realized she had been staring at the new flowers.

“Hmm?”

“It pretends it has nectar, to get bees to come in and pick up the pollen. The bees visit but get nothing in return. So they learn to stop visiting. Or at least, the smart bees do.”

“Diana…”

A sad smile, this time. “I know. I’m not … I’m not. I’m going to check on dinner.”

Rebecca tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she wiped away an escaped tear. As much as she didn’t want to lose her best friend, Diana couldn’t go on living like this. The money would give her freedom and security.

And no matter how much special fertilizer or garden tools she had to buy, no matter how many YouTube tutorials she had to watch or special classes she had to attend, she would make sure Diana’s fairy slippers thrived.

* * *

“Are you seriously saying you think Matiyasevich was wrong?”

Aureline paused, halfway through removing Phi’s shirt. “Uh, you want to argue about this now?”

“The theorem has been around for fifty-eight years, and you’re saying there’s a flaw in the logic?”

“Right now, I’m saying fuck Diophantine equations.” She resumed her task and chucked Phi’s tank top behind her before pushing her back on the couch.

Phi seemed to let herself get lost at first when Aureline kissed a path down from her nose to her collarbone. This fantasy had played out in her mind more than once since she had noticed the cute girl with the platinum hair in the back row in Mathematical Methods in Nanophotonics. Now they were here, after dinner and a Nonlinear Optics lecture, on Phi’s couch, half-naked and –

“But all Diophantine sets are effectively enumerable –”

– she couldn’t stop talking about an off-handed comment Aureline had made on the way back to the apartment.

“I’m not saying the conclusion is wrong,” she replied, sliding her hands up Phi’s legs, underneath the turquoise and black skirt. “I’m saying the way he got there has errors.”

“So you think you’re smarter than … than …”

Pushing aside her underwear and slipping a finger into Phi seemed to be pretty effective at derailing her train of thought. Aureline planted sloppy kisses on her knees, her thighs, until the unmistakable sound of a crash outside startled her into raising her head.

“Oh god, that sounds bad,” she said as she hopped up and went to the window. Not caring about her bare chest or who might see, she pushed aside the blackout curtains. It looked like an SUV had plowed into three parked cars.

“What happened?” Phi asked. She had put back on her tank tops before joining her to survey the scene.

“Shit. I think someone hit my Mazda.” Aureline bolted for the door, stopping only when she remembered she was naked from the waist up. The first garment she snatched up was Phi’s sleeveless, pale blue jacket, and she tossed it aside in frustration, accidentally hitting the other woman in the face.

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry, I just … fuck! I have to get down there before he drives off.” Finally locating her shirt, she pulled it over her head, realizing that it was inside out and backwards but not having the patience to fix it.

“Even if he does, there are cameras covering the outside of the building and the parking lot,” Phi assured her as straightened her necklace and grabbed her boots. “But go, I’ll be down as soon as I get these on.”

For some reason, Aureline glanced back into the apartment before she shut the door. The black flower in Phi’s hair had come loose and she was pinning it back up.

It wasn’t until after she had exchanged insurance information with the driver – a Japanese exchange student who wasn’t drunk, but had apparently had a seizure – and surveyed the not-as-bad-as-she-thought damage to her car that Aureline realized Phi had never come down. She should have been almost right behind her; all she had to do was throw on those ridiculously tall boots of hers.

Confused and a little angry, she skipped the elevator and dashed up three flights of stairs to apartment #306. The door was cracked, even though she was sure she had pulled it closed. When she pushed it open, white smoke escaped and she stepped back, expecting to see a fire. But it didn’t smell like something was burning – more chemical, like a hospital.

She tugged her sleeve over her hand and covered her nose and mouth, but it was too late; she could feel herself start go get woozy. Time felt like it slowed as she tipped forward and hit the floor.

A black figure moved past her and she tried to reach out and grab its leg before succumbing to darkness.

(fin.)

#zero escape #virtue's last reward #zero time dilemma #windy-ace #nursedianaklim #zecret santa 2017 #submission

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gaysparklepires · 7 years

Text

9. Target

Alice dropped me off in the morning, in keeping with the slumber party charade. It wouldn’t be long until Edward showed up, officially returning from his “hiking” trip. All of the pretenses were starting to wear on me. I wouldn’t miss this after moving out.

Charlie peeked through the front window when he heard me slam the car door. He waved to Alice, and then went to get the door for me.

“Did you have fun?” Charlie asked.

“Sure, it was great. Very… fun.”

I carried my stuff in, dumped it all at the foot of the stairs, and wandered into the kitchen to look for a snack.

“You’ve got a message,” Charlie called after me.

On the kitchen counter, the phone message pad was propped up conspicuously against a saucepan.

Jacob called, Charlie had written.

He said he didn’t mean it, and that he’s sorry. He wants you to call him. Be nice and give him a break. He sounded upset.

I grimaced. Charlie didn’t usually editorialize on my messages.

Jacob could just go ahead and be upset. I didn’t want to talk to him. Last I’d heard, they weren’t big on allowing phone calls from the other side. If Jacob preferred me dead, then maybe he should get used to the silence.

My appetite evaporated. I turned an about face and went to put my things away.

“Aren’t you going to call Jacob?” Charlie asked. He was leaning around the living room wall, watching me pick up.

“No.”

I started up the stairs.

“C’mon, Beau,” he said. “Forgiveness is divine.”

“Duly noted,” I muttered as I stalked up the stairs.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone; I’d ignored it since getting back to the Cullens’ house. I had nearly thirty missed calls from Jacob. I sighed and turned the phone off. Shoving it back in my bag.

I knew the laundry was building up, so after I put my toothpaste away and threw my dirty clothes in the hamper, I went to strip Charlie’s bed. I left his sheets in a pile at the top of the stairs and went to get mine.

I paused beside the bed, cocking my head to the side.

Where was my pillow? I turned in a circle, scanning the room. No pillow. I noticed that my room looked oddly tidy. Hadn’t my gray sweatshirt been draped over the low bedpost on the footboard? And I would swear there had been a pair of dirty socks behind the rocking chair, along with the red button up shirt I’d tried on two mornings ago, but decided was too dressy for school, hanging over the arm… I spun around again. My hamper wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t overflowing, the way I thought it had been.

Was Charlie doing laundry? That was out of character.

“Dad, did you start the wash?” I shouted out my door.

“Um, no,” he shouted back, sounding guilty. “Did you want me to?”

“No, I got it. Were you looking for something in my room?”

“No. Why?”

“I can’t find… a shirt…”

“I haven’t been in there.”

And then I remembered that Alice had been here to get my pajamas. I hadn’t noticed that she’d borrowed my pillow, too—probably since I’d avoided the bed. It looked like she had cleaned while she was passing through. I blushed for my slovenly ways.

But that red shirt really wasn’t dirty, so I went to save it from the hamper.

I expected to find it near the top, but it wasn’t there. I dug through the whole pile and still couldn’t find it. I knew I was probably getting paranoid, but it seemed like something else was missing, or maybe more than one something. I didn’t even have half a load here.

I ripped my sheets off and headed for the laundry closet, grabbing Charlie’s on the way. The washing machine was empty. I checked the dryer, too, half-expecting to find a washed load waiting for me, courtesy of Alice. Nothing. I frowned, mystified.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Charlie called.

“Not yet.”

I went back upstairs to search under my bed. Nothing but dust bunnies. I started to dig through my dresser. Maybe I’d put the red shirt away and forgotten.

I gave up when the doorbell rang. That would be Edward.

“Door,” Charlie informed me from the couch as I skipped past him.

“Thanks, Dad.”

I pulled the door open with a smile on my face.

Edward’s golden eyes were wide, his nostrils flared, his lips pulled back over his teeth.

“Edward?” My voice was sharp with shock as I read his expression. “What--?”

He put his finger to my lips. “Give me two seconds,” he whispered. “Don’t move.”

I stood frozen on the doorstep and he… disappeared. He moved so quickly that Charlie wouldn’t even have seen him pass.

Before I could compose myself enough to count to two, he was back. He put his arm around my waist and pulled me swiftly toward the kitchen. His eyes darted around the room, and he held me against his body as if he were shielding me from something. I threw a glance toward Charlie on the couch, but he was studiously ignoring us.

“Someone’s been here,” he murmured in my ear after he pulled me to the back of the kitchen. His voice was strained; it was difficult to hear him over the thumping of the washing machine.

“I swear that no werewolves—” I started to say.

“Not one of them,” he interrupted me quickly, shaking his head. “One of us.”

His tone made it clear that he didn’t mean a member of his family.

I felt the blood empty from my face.

“Victor?” I choked.

“It’s not a scent I recognize.”

“One of the Volturi,” I guessed.

“Probably.”

“When?”

“That’s why I think it must have been them—it wasn’t long ago, early this morning while Charlie was sleeping. And whoever it was didn’t touch him, so there must have been another purpose.”

“Looking for me.”

He didn’t answer. His body was frozen, a statue.

“What are you two hissing about in here?” Charlie asked suspiciously, rounding the corner with an empty popcorn bowl in his hands.

I felt green. A vampire had been in the house looking for me while Charlie slept. Panic overwhelmed me, closed my throat. I couldn’t answer, I just stared at him in horror.

Charlie’s expression changed. He looked uncomfortable. “If you two are having a fight… well, I’ll just get going.”

He put his bowl in the sink and hurried out of the room.

“Let’s go,” Edward said in a low hard voice.

“But Charlie!” The fear was squeezing my chest, making it hard to breathe.

He deliberated for a short second, and then his phone was in his hand.

“Emmett,” he muttered into the receiver. He began talking so fast that I couldn’t understand the words. It was over in half a minute. He started pulling me toward the door.

“Emmett and Jasper are on their way,” he whispered when he felt my resistance. “They’ll sweep the woods. Charlie is fine.”

I let him drag me along then, too panicked to think clearly. Charlie met my frightened eyes with a concerned glance, which quickly turned to confusion. Edward had me out the door before Charlie could say anything.

“Where are we going?” I couldn’t stop whispering, even after we were in the car.

“We’re going to talk to Alice,” he told me, his volume normal but his voice bleak.

“You think maybe she saw something?”

He stared at the road through narrowed eyes. “Maybe.”

They were waiting for us, on alert after Edward’s call. It was like walking into a museum, everyone still as statues in various poses of stress.

“What happened?” Edward demanded as soon as we were through the door. I was shocked to see that he was glowering at Alice, his hands fisted in anger.

Alice stood with her arms folded tight across her chest. Only her lips moved. “I have no idea. I didn’t see anything.”

“How is that possible?” he hissed.

“Edward,” I scolded. I didn’t like him talking to Alice this way.

Carlisle interrupted in a calming voice. “It’s not an exact science, Edward.”

“He was in Beau’s room, Alice. He could have still been there—waiting for him.”

“I would have seen that.”

Edward threw his hands up in exasperation. “Really? You’re sure?”

Alice’s voice was cold when she answered. “You’ve already got me watching the Volturi’s decisions, watching for Victor’s return, watching Beau’s every step. You want to add another? Do I just have to watch Charlie, or Beau’s room, or the house, or the whole street, too? Edward, if I try to do too much, things are going to start slipping through the cracks.”

“I looks like they already are,” Edward snapped.

“Beau was never in any danger. There was nothing to see.”

“If you’re watching Italy, why didn’t you see them send—“

“I don’t think it’s them,” Alice insisted. “I would have seen that.”

“Who else would leave Charlie alive?”

I shuddered.

“I don’t know,” Alice said.

“Helpful.”

“Stop it, Edward,” I snapped. “Mind your temper.”

He turned on me, his face still livid, his teeth clenched together. He glared at me for half a second, and then, suddenly, he exhaled. His eyes widened and his jaw relaxed.

“You’re right, Beau. I’m sorry.” He looked at Alice. “Forgive me, Alice. I shouldn’t be taking this out on you. That was inexcusable.”

“I understand,” Alice assured him. “I’m not happy about it, either.”

Edward took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s look at this logically. What are the possibilities?”

Everyone seemed to thaw out at once. Alice relaxed and leaned against the back of the couch. Carlisle walked slowly toward her, his eyes far away. Esme sat on the sofa in front of Alice, curling her legs up on the seat. Only Royal remained unmoving, his back to us, staring out the glass wall.

Edward pulled me to the sofa and I sat next to Esme, who shifted to put her arms around me. He held one of my hands tightly in both of his.

“Victor?” Carlisle asked.

Edward shook his head. “No. I didn’t know the scent. This stranger might have been from the Volturi, someone I’ve never met…”

Alice shook her head. “Aro hasn’t asked anyone to look for Beau yet. I will see that. I’m waiting for it.”

Edward’s head snapped up. “You’re watching for an official command.”

“You think someone’s acting on their own? Why?”

“Caius’s idea,” Edward suggested, his face tightening again.

“Or Jane’s…,” Alice said. “They both have the resources to send an unfamiliar face…”

Edward scowled. “And the motivation.

“It doesn’t make sense, though,” Esme said. “If whoever it was meant to wait for Beau, Alice would have seen that. He—or she—had no intention of hurting Beau. Or Charlie, for that matter.”

I cringed at my father’s name.

“It’s going to be fine, Beau,” Esme murmured, smoothing my hair.

“But what was the point then?” Carlisle mused.

“Checking to see if I’m still human?” I guessed.

“Possible,” Carlisle said.

Royal breathed out a sigh, loud enough for me to hear. He’d unfrozen, and his face was turned expectantly toward the kitchen. Edward, on the other hand, looked discouraged.

Emmett burst through the kitchen door, Jasper right behind him.

“Long gone, hours ago,” Emmett announced, disappointed. “The trail went East, then South, and disappeared on a side road. Had a car waiting.”

“That’s bad luck,” Edward muttered. “If he’d gone west… well, it would be nice for those dogs to make themselves useful.”

I winced, and Esme rubbed my shoulder.

Jasper looked at Carlisle. “Neither of us recognized him. But here.” He held out something green and crumpled. Carlisle took it from him and held it to his face. I saw, as it exchanged hands, that it was a broken fern frond. “Maybe you know the scent.”

“No,” Carlisle said. “Not familiar. No one I’ve ever met.”

“Perhaps we’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe it’s a coincidence…,” Esme began, but stopped when she saw everyone else’s incredulous expressions. “I don’t mean a coincidence that a stranger happened to pick Beau’s house to visit at random. I meant that maybe someone was just curious. Our scent is all around him. Was he wondering what draws us there?”

“Why wouldn’t he just come here then? If he was curious?” Emmett demanded.

“You would,” Esme said with a sudden, fond smile. “The rest of us aren’t always so direct. Our family is very large—he or she might be frightened. But Charlie wasn’t harmed. This doesn’t have to be an enemy.”

Just curious. Like James and Victor had been curious, in the beginning? The thought of Victor made me tremble, though the one thing they seemed certain of was that it had not been him. Not this time. Victor would stick to his obsessed pattern. This was just someone else, a stranger.

I was slowly realizing that vampires were much bigger participants in this world than I’d once thought. How many times did the average human cross paths with them, completely unaware? How many deaths, obliviously reported as crimes and accidents, were really due to their thirst? How crowded would this new word be if I ever joined it?

The shrouded future sent a shiver down my spine.

The Cullens pondered Esme’s words with varying expressions. I could see that Edward did not accept her theory, and that Carlisle very much wanted to.

Alice pursed her lips. “I don’t think so. The timing of it was too perfect… This visitor was so careful to make no contact. Almost like he or she knew that I would see…”

“He could have other reasons for not making contact,” Esme reminded her.

“Does it really matter who it was?” I asked. “Just the chance that someone was looking for me… isn’t that bad enough? God, I thought I had more time…”

“It will be alright, Beau,” Edward said quickly. “It’s not that bad. If you’re really in danger, we’ll know.”

“But what about Charlie? What if my little guest had happened to be thirsty last night? As long as I’m around Charlie, he’s a target too. If anything happened to him, it would be all my fault!”

“Hardly, Beau,” Esme said, patting my hair again. “And nothing will happen to Charlie. We’re just going to have to be more careful.”

“More careful?” I repeated in disbelief.

“It’s all going to be fine, Beau,” Alice promised; Edward squeezed my hand.

And I could see, looking at all of their faces one by one, that they truly believed it would be fine.

It was a quiet ride home. I was anxious and tense.

“You won’t be alone for a second,” Edward promised as he drove me to Charlie’s. “Someone will always be there. Emmett, Alice, Jasper…”

I sighed. “I feel bad. They’ll get so bored, they’ll have to kill me themselves, just for something to do.”

Edward gave me a sour look. “Hilarious, Beau.”

Charlie was in a cautious mood when we got back. He could see the tension between me and Edward, and it made him nervous for me, probably. He watched me throw together his dinner with a peculiar look on his face. Edward had excused himself for a moment, to do some surveillance, I assumed, but Charlie waited till he was back to pass on my messages.

“Jacob called again,” Charlie said as soon as Edward was in the room. I kept my face empty as I set the plate in front of him.

“Is that a fact?”

Charlie frowned. “Don’t be petty, Beau. He sounded really low.”

“Is Jacob paying you for all the P.R., or are you a volunteer?”

Charlie grumbled incoherently at me until the food cut off his garbled complaint.

Though he didn’t realize it, he’d found his mark.

My life was feeling a lot like a game of dice right now—would the next roll come up snake eyes? What if something did happen to me? It seemed worse than petty to leave Jacob feeling guilty about what he’d said.

But I didn’t want to talk to him with Charlie around, and to have to watch my every word so I didn’t let the wrong thing slip. Thinking about this made me jealous of Jacob and Billy’s relationship. How easy it must be when you had no secrets from the person you lived with.

So I would wait for the morning. I most likely wasn’t going to die tonight, after all, and it wouldn’t hurt him to feel guilty for twelve more hours. It might even be good for him.

When Edward officially left for the evening, I wondered who was out in the downpour, keeping an eye on Charlie and me. I felt awful for Alice or whoever else it might be, but still comforted. I had to admit it was nice, knowing I wasn’t alone. And Edward was back in record time.

He sang me to sleep again and—aware even in unconsciousness that he was there—I slept free of nightmares.

In the morning, Charlie left to go fishing with Deputy Mark before I was up. I decided to use this lack supervision to call Jacob.

“I’m going to let Jacob off the hook,” I warned Edward after I’d eaten breakfast.

“I knew you’d forgive him,” he said with an easy smile. “Holding grudges is not one of your many talents.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was pleased. It seemed like Edward really was over the whole anti-werewolf thing.

I didn’t look at the time until after I’d picked up my phone and dialed. It was a little early for calls, and I worried that I would wake Billy and Jake, but someone picked up before the second ring, so he couldn’t have been too far from the phone.

“Hello?” a dull voice said.

“Jacob?”

“Beau!” he exclaimed. “Oh, Beau, I’m so sorry!” he tripped over the words as he hurried to get them out. “I swear I didn’t mean it. I was just being stupid. I was angry—but that’s no excuse. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever said in my life and I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me, please? Please. Lifetime of servitude up for grabs—all you have to do is forgive me.”

“I’m not mad. You’re forgiven.”

“Thank you,” he breathed fervently. “I can’t believe I was such a jerk.”

“Don’t worry about that—I’m used to it.”

He laughed, exuberant with relief. “Come down to see me,” he begged. “I want to make it up to you.”

“How?”

“Anything you want. Cliff diving,” he suggested, laughing again.

“Oh, there’s a brilliant idea.”

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised. “No matter what you want to do.”

I glanced at Edward. His face was very calm, but I was sure this was not the time.

“Not right now, Jake.”

“He’s not thrilled with me, is he?” Jacob’s voice was ashamed, rather than bitter, for a change.

“That’s not the problem. There’s… well, there’s this other problem that’s slightly more worrisome than a jerk werewolf…” I tried to keep my tone joking, but I didn’t fool him.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Um.” I wasn’t sure what I should tell him.

Edward held out his hand for my phone. I looked at his face carefully. He seemed calm enough.

“Beau?” Jacob asked.

Edward sighed, holding his hand closer.

“Do you mind speaking to Edward?” I asked apprehensively. “He wants to talk to you.”

There was a long pause.

“Okay,” Jacob finally agreed. “This should be interesting.”

I handed the phone to Edward; I hoped he could read the warning in my eyes.

“Hello, Jacob,” Edward said, perfectly polite.

There was a silence. I bit my lip, trying to guess how Jacob would answer.

“Someone was here—not a scent I know,” Edward explained. “Has your pack come across anything new?”

Another pause, while Edward nodded to himself, unsurprised.

“Here’s the crux, Jacob. I won’t be letting Beau out of my sight till I get this taken care of. It’s nothing personal—“

Jacob interrupted him then, and I could hear the buzz of his voice from the receiver. Whatever he was saying, he was more intense than before. I tried to unsuccessfully to make out the words.

“You might be right—,” Edward began, but Jacob was arguing again. Neither of them sounded angry, at least.

“That’s an interesting suggestion. We’re quite willing to renegotiate. If Sam is amenable.”

Jacob’s voice was quieter now. I started chewing on my thumbnail as I tried to read Edward’s expression.

“Thank you,” Edward replied.

Then Jacob said something that caused a surprised expression to flicker across Edward’s face.

“I’d planned to go alone, actually,” Edward said, answering the unexpected question. “And leave Beau with the others.”

Jacob’s voice rose in pitch, and it sounded like he was trying to be persuasive.

“I’ll try to consider it objectively,” Edward promised. “As objectively as I’m capable of.”

The pause was shorter this time.

“That’s not a half-bad idea. When? …No, that’s fine. I’d like a chance to follow the trial personally, anyway. Ten minutes… Certainly,” Edward said. He held my phone out to me. “Beau?”

I took it slowly, feeling confused.

“What was that all about?” I asked Jacob, my voice peeved. I knew it was juvenile, but I felt excluded.

“A truce, I think. Hey, do me a favor,” Jacob suggested. “Try to convince your vampire that the safest place for you to be—especially when he leaves—is on the reservation. We’re well able to handle anything.”

“Is that what you were trying to sell him?”

“Yeah. It makes sense. Charlie’s probably better off here, too. As much as possible.”

“Get Billy on it,” I agreed. I hated that I was putting Charlie within the range of the crosshairs that always seemed to be centered on me. “What else?”

“Just rearranging some boundaries, so we can catch anyone who gets too near Forks. I’m not sure if Sam will go for it, but until he comes around, I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“What do you mean by ‘keep an eye on things’?”

“I mean that if you see a wolf running around your house, don’t shoot at it.”

“Of course not. You really shouldn’t do anything… risky, though.”

He snorted. “Don’t worry about me, Beau. I can take care of myself.”

I sighed.

“I also tried to convince him to let you visit. He’s prejudiced, so don’t let him give you any crap about safety. He knows as well as I do that you’d be safe here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“See you in a few,” Jacob said.

“You’re coming up?” I couldn’t contain the excitement in my voice.

“Yeah. I’m going to get the scent of your visitor so we can track him if he comes back.”

“Jake, I really don’t like the idea of you tracking—“

“Come on, Beau,” he interrupted. Jacob laughed, and then hung up.

#3.09 #Eclipse Revamped #The Twilight Saga Revamped #The Twilight Saga #Edward Cullen #Beau Swan #Jacob Black

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Text

The Experiment

I suppose almost everyone who takes part in a pharmaceutical trial does it for the money. There may be some researchers who do it to advance knowledge, but I had no such higher purpose. An acquaintance mentioned that the local university was offering to pay volunteers and I needed the money. I contacted an agency, filled in an online document and was selected. A few weeks later I arrived with about a dozen other volunteers for a five day residential study, although we were informed that we would have to attend follow-ups after a month and three months.

The introductions were made and it was explained that the drug we'd be getting was a new type of antidepressant. A doctor interviewed me and took an extensive medical history. I had little to report; my health has been exceptionally good, apart from a broken arm when I was twelve. Otherwise nothing more serious than 'flu. It was explained that in order to provide a control some of the group would receive an inactive tablet, and that the medical staff wouldn't know who was receiving the active drug. I was asked to report any behavioural changes I felt, no matter how small. Since it was a drug that acted on the nervous system the behavioural effects were likely to be important in finding out whether the test medication would be licensed.

During the afternoon I was provided with the tablet. I felt anxious as I swallowed it. I knew that almost every trial passed safely, but then we'd all heard of those rare disasters where people suddenly fell ill. I was relieved to be able to say that I felt nothing. I completed a number of questionnaires and spoke to a doctor several times. By the following day I'd still felt nothing except some difficulty in getting to sleep and a mild headache, which might as easily have been caused by the anxiety of my unfamiliar setting as by the medicine.

The tedium of being locked in a university building for five days was relieved by my growing relationship with another volunteer, Alice. We first spoke at the evening meal on the first day. At breakfast the following morning she sought me out and looked pleased to see me.

“Hi, Katie!” she said warmly. “Can I sit with you? There's a creepy guy who's a bit stalker-ish and I was hoping to avoid him.”

“Please do,” I laughed. “Any side-effects from the drugs?”

“Yes, I have these big blood blisters all over my back, they're turning black. Do you think that's serious?”

“Oh, I shouldn't imagine it is,” I said, equally dead pan. “But it you do die can I have that handbag? It's gorgeous.”

She giggled. “See, if I'd said that to Johnny Stalker over there he'd have thought I was serious and rushed to get a doctor.”

“Yes, never trust people who are gullible,” I smiled. “I did have a terrible restless night though,” I complained.

“Me too!” Alice said. “See, that's the sort of thing that an antidepressant could cause, they're stimulants. I reckon we both got the real drug, not the placebo.”

Soon Alice and I were inseparable. She was good company, drily witty, an interesting conversationalist, irreverent and mischievous. She was also exceptionally pretty: tall, slim, long dark hair and exceptionally clear blue eyes. I was normally shy, awkward in large groups, but Alice seemed to bring out the best in me. Within a few hours I felt like we'd known each other for years.

Then the trial was over and it was time to say our farewells. Alice lived quite a distance away but we'd exchanged contact details, insisted that we'd stay in touch, arrange visits. I felt a little melancholic as I saw her leave, knew that I tended to lose touch with people and wondered if I'd ever see her again. My melancholy was tinged with the knowledge that I'd developed a huge crush that I doubted was reciprocated.

The next few weeks were quite stressful for me. I started to feel very uncomfortable when I looked in a mirror, frustrated by my appearance. I found myself daydreaming every time I saw anybody I found attractive, imagining being transformed into their doppelgänger. There was a woman I saw every morning on the train into work and I'd always admired for her elegance and beauty (she was tall, slim, around forty but still very pretty). She wore her hair in long bob, dark blonde, and I started to become obsessed with her hair. I decided that I'd have mine cut and coloured to match hers, even though I'd always had, and loved having, long hair.

My hair was chestnut brown, slightly wavy, thick, down to my waist. But then I was looking in a salon mirror and my hair was sleek and straight, a centre parted blonde bob that stopped short of my shoulders. I was suddenly filled with regret. Why had I done this? The style which looked so elegant on the woman on the train just made me look plainer, I was sure. And my insecurities about my decision only increased when most of my friends expressed surprise that I should have cut so much of my lovely hair. Their assurances that it looked good seemed hollow.

My discomfort in my appearance was only heightened now when I looked in the mirror, yet in the days following my makeover I was filled with an excitement when I felt my new hair. The risk I'd taken in cutting off so much hair excited me, physically aroused me. When I was alone I couldn't resist letting my hand rise up my neck to experience afresh the shock of how high up my hair was cut, and my hand would slide into my waist band to savour this guilty delight. Holding a strand before my eyes would only add to my pleasure as I saw how my rich brown hair had been bleached.

A couple of weeks later I found myself walking into another salon, which looked more edgy than my usual place. I'd seen it in passing a few days earlier and had become slightly obsessed with seeing the sort of styles they could create.

A beautiful young stylist, Rosa, with her hair set in regimented waves and victory rolls caped me and smiled. “So what are we doing today?” she asked, her voice marked by a European accent.

“I'm a bit bored with this look,” I said. “I wanted to try a short bob.” She nodded as if I'd spoken wisely. I'm sure I was more surprised than her.

“Something very blunt and boxy? Fringe?” I agreed, whilst wondering what I was letting myself in for. “Colour too? I think something warmer would suit you.”

“Sure,” I said with a nervous smile.

She set to work with great enthusiasm. I seemed unable to disagree with anything she suggested and suddenly I saw that my hair was being cropped to a hard line high on my cheek. I was terrified by what was happening. My jaw was clamped so tightly that I was getting a headache.

“What about the nape? I was thinking it would look good if we did it really close buzzed, like very shaved looking.”

That sounded like a very bad idea. “OK, let's try that,” I said meekly.

She yelped with joy. “Oh, Katie, you're such fun. I wish everyone was as bold as you.”

Moments later she'd made me bow my head and had taken her clippers from the shelf. “Ever tried these? You'll love it, I promise.” There was crack as the switch was flipped and they rattled and buzzed into action. As the blades swept up my neck I felt sheaves of hair tumble over my shoulders. “I'll do it with a number two, then fade it up with a one. Is that OK, honey?” I could only grunt as I tried to come to terms with what was happening to me. As she sheared away more of my hair she laughed. “Oh, I'm sorry, you never got clippered, did you? I bet you have no idea what I mean. Number two is a quarter inch, one is an eighth. That OK?”

“So there'll only be an eighth of an inch on my nape?”

“At the bottom, yes. You'll love it, don't worry,” she assured me. I hoped she was right but feared I'd be less than keen. Regardless, it was too late to change her plans now.

As I lifted my head I could see that my bob was frighteningly short, chopped to show almost half of my ears. I could feel my confidence draining away as I imagined how severe the shaved back was going to look. “I was thinking a nice red,” my constantly happy stylist said. “Do you want something nice and bright or more natural looking?”

“I suppose more natural. I think with my job too bright mightn't present the right image.”

“Sure, got it,” she said with a reassuring smile. “What is it you do?”

“I just work in a coffee shop. I've been trying to get a job in a museum but no luck so far.”

“Yeah, finding a job is hard. You just need to be persistent. Fringe about here..?” She tapped the side of her scissors at the middle of my forehead.

“It's quite short,” I said, for the first time expressing my worries at how bold her vision of my bob was becoming.

“It'll look so pretty with your big eyes. You'll see.” She snipped across my forehead with great concentration and I did see. I saw that I had a fringe that was far too wide, too heavy, too blunt and most hurtfully, too short.

She seemed to be ignorant of my concerns. “You see? It looks beautiful. The most perfect box bob. You were made for this cut.”

I was soon painted with red dye, except that it had been decided (and not by me) that my nape should be darker, so that had had a second shade applied. Then I waited impatiently for my style to be finished. As each moment passed I was more sure than ever that this cut had been a dreadful mistake and I was desperate to escape, to hide in my bedroom. I wanted to stay there for months until my hair had grown to a more reasonable length.

As Rosa let me see the colour for the first time she looked pleased. It was a bright, coppery shade, too orange to be natural, and I could only wonder what the less muted colour she'd considered would have looked like. I blushed as I saw how it added to the severity of the style, hoping that it would fade to something more restrained after a few washes. She brushed through the damp hair, so short now that it didn't resist the movement of the brush at all. She blasted it with the dryer, tugging it out firmly to blow out any wave. Soon it sat on my head, gleaming like a burnished helmet. I'd asked for a short bob (though still I couldn't explain why) and she'd certainly given me that. It was perfectly executed, the lines cut with immaculate precision. I felt a tremor as she held up a mirror to show my nape. The dark stubble faded into almost nothing on my neck, so short that it paled where scalp showed through.

I tried to muster some enthusiasm, appalled that my dislike of the style would upset my stylist, who'd been so sweet since my arrival. I tried as best I could to pretend I was happy and paid her a tip. As I walked out I felt my bared nape with an intense sadness. It was almost shaved, that was no exaggeration. As I remembered my long hair from only a couple of weeks earlier I felt a furious frustration at myself. Why on earth had I cut my lovely hair?

I felt emotionally frozen as I walked home, afraid to lift my head and see the faces of people staring at my ludicrous haircut. As soon as I got inside I rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I started to sob as I saw just how short my hair was. I tugged at the ends, as if I could somehow make it a little longer. Then I rubbed at the nape, where it was buzzed so close. I wanted to hide. How would I ever face my friends again?

I stumbled tearfully though to my bedroom and stripped off. I pulled open my drawer and took out my vibe. I was so horny that I'd cum with great intensity within minutes, but that didn't satisfy me. I continued for hours, until I was raw and exhausted.

The following day I washed my new bob and realised that styling it wasn't as easy as Rosa had made it look. I was late for work as I tried (without success) to blow it straight. Only after resorting to straighteners did I make some approximation of the smoothness of the bob I'd had the previous day.

My colleagues were struggling to hide their shock at my latest makeover. Their diplomacy about my previous cut was now more strained and I became quickly disillusioned by being asked why I'd cut it so short. I couldn't hide my discomfort with the brevity of the new cut and I felt anxious and defensive all the time. I found myself seriously contemplating taking to wearing a hat, even a wig, but I knew that it was crazy to imagine that this could solve my difficulties.

It was only during my day at work that I was reminded that I'd booked the next day off. I remembered that it was my first follow up for the drug trial. I suddenly remembered Alice, and felt guilty as I recalled that I'd not communicated with her in weeks, that I'd not replied to her last email. I had no idea whether she'd be likely to be at the follow up, and was ambivalent. I wanted to see her again (every time I thought of her I felt a little rush of excitement) but my shame in my new appearance meant that part of me hoped that she wouldn't see me. I would feel so embarrassed if she looked at me and asked why I'd cut my hair short.

I was sick with nervous energy as I arrived at the centre where the appointment was scheduled. I'd set off early but had got lost on the huge campus and arrived barely before the set time. As I entered the waiting area I scanned anxiously for Alice.

I'm not sure whether I recognised her at first. Her hair was still long but messy and deliberately dishevelled, in contrast to her previously well maintained appearance. But more shocking was that she wore a vest top which exposed her slender arms which were now covered in a mesh of tattooed lines.

She seemed to take a moment to recognise me, then rushed to hug me. “Oh, shit! Look at you, Katie! Your hair, I absolutely adore it.” I was tingling all over as she ran a hand up my buzzed nape. “I never imagined you being so bold but I'm so pleased you took the step.”

I felt tongue tied. I'd expected to have to try to justify my decision but instead I was left filled with joy at her compliments. Then she sensed I was looking at her tattoos.

“Oh! You noticed,” she said, suddenly more serious. “Yeah, I got some tattoos. I just started to feel really obsessive about tattooed girls and a couple of weeks ago I started. It's not really impressed my friends but I love them.”

I smiled. “If you like them then that's all that matters.”

“Well, I don't care about most opinions but I'd like some people to approve. I'd be happy if you thought they looked good.”

I looked into her big, clear eyes and I knew I couldn't lie. “To be honest I'm a bit shocked. Let me get used to seeing you with tattoos and by the end of the day I'll tell you if I like them.”

“Thank you, Katie. You're so different to most people I know, who either rush to judge or just say 'Yes, they're ok,' when they don't mean it.”

Our conversation was interrupted as we were called to see the doctors in charge of the trial. I was called in to see a young woman who hadn't been part of the staff at the original tests. She went through some sets of questions, then asked some more open ended questions. “Have you noticed any obsessive-compulsive behaviours?” she asked. “Especially with regard to your appearance, perhaps?”

I felt myself becoming tearful. “Yes, I had long hair. I had it cut twice in the last couple of weeks and I can't really explain why I wanted to do it. This is connected with the test drug?”

She looked uncomfortable. “How long was your hair?” she asked.

I told her that it had been to my waist, and offered to find some pictures on my phone. Moments later she'd called in an older colleague who'd been present at the trial. I was becoming very tearful as I explained to her how I'd suddenly started to obsess about other women's appearances, and felt an urge to mimic them.

“The second cut seemed very spur of the moment,” I explained. “I was suddenly agreeing to getting a cut I hated, and didn't seem capable of disagreeing with anything that the stylist suggested, even though I didn't like her ideas.”

I was asked to send photos from my phone to provide evidence and the younger interviewer wrote down my statement. She took a picture of me to evidence my newest hairstyle. I didn't dare look at it, sure I would have looked unbearably miserable.

“Has this happened to other people?” I asked. She looked unsure whether she should reply. “You asked about it so you must have had some idea.”

“There does seem to be a possible connection,” she admitted. “There's another girl who's turned up covered in tattoos.”

I gasped. “Oh yes, she's my friend.” I'd been so caught up with my own problems that I hadn't even allowed myself to think of Alice.

“I'm not saying what happened to you isn't unfortunate, but her changes are far more permanent.”

“How much longer is this problem likely to last?” I asked.

“The truth is we've only just become aware of it within the last few days. We still can't be certain this is a side-effect but even if it were we have no idea why it's caused this behaviour. Unfortunately that means we can't predict how long this will take to resolve. The drug is cleared from the body completely within three to four days so I can't really explain why it's still causing compulsive actions four weeks after a fairly small dose.”

“It could be permanent?” I was terrified by the possibility.

She smiled but I could see it was bravado. “I can't see any reason why a single dose would cause a permanent change in behaviour. I'm sure it will improve soon.” I found no consolation in what she said, since she'd already admitted that this was beyond anyone's understanding. “We do need to run some tests though. It's in everyone's interest to find out what's going on and how to get you back to normal.”

I agreed that this seemed sensible. “Right now though I want to see my friend. Please can you find out if I can see her?”

A few minutes later I was allowed to go and see Alice. I put my arms around her and started to cry. “I can't believe this has happened. You poor thing, you got all those tattoos because of this stupid drug.”

“Hey, it's ok,” she said, smiling. “I like my tattoos and I'm going to get them finished. I don't regret anything. I don't regret you cutting your hair either. You look so cute with that sharp little bob. Anyway, you were supposed to tell me about your verdict on my tattoos now you've had a chance to get used to them.”

She stood and held out her arms, turned before me to allow me to judge. I took a closer look and saw that the outlines described large flowers. “I'm going to get them filled with intense colour and fill the gaps with black to make the colour stand out.”

“They are quite pretty,” I admitted. “But your arms are going to be almost covered.”

“Not almost,” she insisted. “There's more to be done. You know we're going to get a pay out for this? That's great because I want money to pay for more tattooing,” she laughed. “You could accept me with tattoos?” She was suddenly more serious, looking at me intently. I nodded. “I liked you as soon as we met, Katie, but I had too many doubts to commit to anything. But now I'm suddenly more impulsive because of this drug and I like who I am now. And anyway, you're ten times cuter now since you cut your hair so I couldn't possibly live with myself if I didn't say anything. So what do you say? Can we get to know each other better?”

I felt myself contorting inside, my face burning. A few minutes earlier I'd been in despair and now I was being asked out by a girl that I felt sure I could fall in love with. “I don't think anything could make me happier,” I said. I put my arms around her and started to cry. “Oh Alice, I don't know why I'm crying, I'm so happy. But it's been such a difficult day, I feel like I'm on a roller coaster. There's been too much for me to process. But just when I thought everything was going wrong you make everything good. I can't believe how positive you are about all of this. I was in despair at how weirdly I was acting and you just accept it as a blessing. You're the most extraordinary person I ever met.”

She put her arms around me and put her lips to mine. I closed my eyes and prayed that I could learn from her. I imagined us fusing together, our substance flowing between us, becoming one. I felt that this moment was more than just physical, there seemed something mystical. In that brief kiss I felt that Alice was the woman who would be my single great love.

++++++++++++

When I later asked Alice why she'd hesitated to try to get closer to me during our initial encounter her main doubt was about the distance that separated us. She'd had another long distance relationship which had proved unsustainable and had hurt her deeply. Since neither of us owned a car we were separated by a four hour journey, and the problem was significant. I was frustrated that hours after pledging our commitment Alice had to leave me and return home. However, we'd agreed to meet three days later since both of us would attend the university for further tests on our mysterious condition. She'd been booked into a nice hotel, all expenses paid by the pharmaceutical company that had commissioned the tests. She'd asked me to spend the night with her and I'd agreed eagerly.

I met her at the railway station, delighted to see her emerge from the platform. We hugged each other tightly, and it felt like our separation had been far too long. “I don't do long distance relationships,” Alice said firmly. “One of us has to move very soon, Katie. We'll make a decision by tomorrow morning.” I knew it would be a hard decision, but I was ready to do as she said. I wanted to be with Alice all of the time. “You need to find a lawyer too. We need them to accept that the trial harmed us and that they pay us what we deserve. We could always use the same lawyer to act for both of us.” I agreed to this plan.

There was a long day of tests, numerous sessions of motor tests, cognitive tests, memory function, answering questions about behaviour and previous health problems. In the afternoon we were both taken to a private clinic for MRI scans. We were given another appointment to see the program coordinator a week later to be informed of the results.

We made our way back to the hotel where Alice took me in her arms. “You should be the one to move,” she said. “Come and move in with me.”

I smiled. “I do want to be with you, Alice, but why is it me who has to move?”

“Because I want it,” she said mischievously. “I don't know, since the changes happened I like the idea of being more forceful and controlling. I'm sure I'm going to be a real bitch from now on. Sorry baby.”

I blushed. “I... kinda like that idea,” I confessed.

“Oh, you do? Right then, in a month you'll have wound up all your ties here and you come live with me. And that's an order.”

I winced. “That's going to be a nightmare. I mean, leaving my job, moving out, leaving my friends.”

“But you're forgetting the reward. Me!”

“That's true,” I laughed. “OK, I know it's crazy but let's make it happen.”

She kissed me tenderly and rubbed her fingers over my stubble. I could sense that she liked the feeling as much as I did.

She stared into my eyes. “And when did you start to feel that you liked being controlled?”

“That's not really how it is,” I admitted. “When I got my hair cut the stylist was quite bossy and I found myself just going along with her suggestions, like I couldn't resist anything she said. I really hate how short my hair is, but it makes me really horny too. I must sound crazy. I feel crazy.”

She started to fuss with my hair. “It felt nicer last week,” she said as she stroked my nape. “How about I take you in for a trim tomorrow before I head home?”

I shook my head. “It's less than a week since I had it done, it's too soon.”

“But your hair's so short now that even a few days makes a difference. You want it to look sharp and sexy, don't you?” I could feel myself breathing heavily. Suddenly Alice was making me feel that obsessive urge that I'd been subject to in recent weeks. I knew that now the idea was planted in my mind that I'd eventually have to act, even if Alice didn't ever mention it again. “Call now and see if the same stylist can fit you in tomorrow morning.” A few minutes later I'd agreed to another rendezvous with Rosa at ten the next morning.

Alice styled my hair for our trip to the salon. She was more skilled than I'd been at smoothing out my waves and it looked almost as good as it had as I left the salon. In contrast, Alice has teased her hair to make it look wilder than ever, and with her dark make-up she looked so different to the girl I'd met a few weeks earlier. “You look like a metal fan,” I smiled.

“Maybe I am,” she winked.

We were soon at the salon where Rosa greeted me enthusiastically. “I didn't expect to see you back so soon, honey. What can I do for you?”

“Oh, just a little trim,” Alice said before I could respond.

“This is Alice, Rosa,” I said proudly. “My girlfriend.” I filled with joy to be able to say that someone so wonderful and beautiful was my girlfriend.

I was taken to the chair and caped. “We'd discussed a different fringe,” Alice said. “Something V shaped.” Of course, no such discussion had taken place. I stared in the mirror, still uncomfortable with the red helmet bob that looked so out of place with my features; I still expected to see long waves. I tried to imagine a V fringe. It only made me think it would look even stranger, but I knew that I'd leave the salon with a new fringe.

“Quite a gentle peak or more angled up?” Rosa asked, standing behind me now, studying me in the mirror.”

“As angled as possible,” Alice decided. “Right up to here...” She pointed to a spot near my hairline at the side of the fringe.

Rosa lifted the side of the fringe with a comb. “It would expose this hair on the temple, though. It looks a bit untidy unless it's buzzed. Or shaved. But that can look quite extreme.”

“Would you like that?” Alice asked me. “I think it would be so sexy. Shaved smooth, yes? Maybe you could take an undercut back across the sides over her ears, and down her nape. Shave all of it smooth.”

Rosa laughed. “I like how this girl thinks! But that's a big bold cut. Are you up for it, Katie?”

I felt sick as I tried to imagine being shaved but as I looked into Alice's eyes I could see how much she wanted this. I was so weak anyway that I could never have said no. I forced a timid smile and nodded. Rosa set to her task without delay.

The top of my hair was divided and fixed with clips. I watched as a parting was made angling up each side above ears, extending up to the hairline at the side of my forehead. “You're going to shave all that?” I asked, still sure this wasn't sensible.

Rosa took the clippers and removed the guard that had covered the blades. “Say yes and I make it happen,” she said. I glanced at Alice who was revelling in my imminent transformation. I knew I couldn't say no. Much as I was afraid of how I would look, I needed this to happen.

“Do it,” I said, looking up at Rosa. She gave a whoop of joy as she turned on the clippers and sheared through the ginger hair on my temple.

“Oh shit, they really do shave, don't they?” I could see bare skin in the mirror, no softening of stubble as I'd had on my nape.

“They cut pretty close, but it's best with a razor.” Rosa could barely speak, so intent was she on my cut. I glanced at Alice but she didn't acknowledge my eye contact. She too seemed too engrossed in my shaving to take in anything else.

I hated how the shaved sides looked. My ears were now surrounded by bare skin and they seemed too prominent. I was glad when Rosa moved behind me to shave my nape, head bowed and unable to see the mirror. She was clippering much higher now than on my previous shearing and more locks fell free. I looked like a different girl when I raised my head again. With my hair clipped tight to my head and the sides shaved so high I felt like I'd been deprived of much of my femininity. It was a very disconcerting reflection for me to accept.

But Rosa was clearly dissatisfied with the closeness of the shave. “Feel it now,” she said to Alice and me. I was shocked to feel how bald I was at the back. There was nothing left of the soft silk of my previous buzz. Alice yelped with delight, however. “Oh, Rosa, it's wonderful.”

Rosa shook her head dismissively. “No, it's going to be better.” She daubed my head with shaving cream and gently massaged it into my shaved scalp. The skin felt a little raw from the chafing of the blades and the lather made it tingle. The massage started to become a little too pleasurable. I closed my eyes and imagined a similar experience where those were Alice's fingers I was feeling in a more private setting. I knew that I would beg her to let me feel this, so that I could express my arousal without inhibition.

And then Rosa was scraping through the creamy lather with a razor. “Wait till you feel how different it is, how much better. Whenever I do this I always think how I should get a sideshave. I've even thought of shaving my head. I'm sure I'd look awful, but it'd just feel so...” Words couldn't express what she felt and she ended with a low sigh. She finished shaving me in silence, then gently wiped away the lather from my bared scalp.

“Now feel it,” she said.

I was shocked at how smooth and strange my head felt, so strange that I could barely bring myself to touch it without a sense of shame. I felt alienated from my own body. Alice, though, seemed enchanted as both hands caressed my nape and temples. “Oh yes, baby, it's just so sexy. Rosa, you're right, this is so much better than the clipper shave. I just adore it.”

I was relieved as the clips were pulled free and my bob fell back into place. “It doesn't look any different,” I said with some relief, feeling some femininity restored to me.

“It does from back here,” Alice giggled and stroked my bald nape.

“You'd better wait to play with that,” Rosa said. “She needs to keep still while I cut her fringe.” I held myself rigid as she stood in front of me and started snipping at my already too short fringe. She seemed to take an eternity shaping it to the precise form she'd visualised. Tiny cuttings rolled down my face and I could feel hairs coating my lips and resting on my eyelashes. I endured the discomfort without moving, afraid that she might make a slip which would ruin the line. When she finally rose and stepped back I saw my fringe was now cut in a wide peak, the outer edges exposing the bare skin of my temples.

“Just perfect,” Alice said. Her approval made me feel a glow, even though I couldn't bear to look at myself. “Even better than I'd imagined. Can you tidy up the bob too?”

Rosa looked surprised. “It's not been a week since it was cut. It still looks very crisp to me.”

Alice shrugged. “Yes but... maybe a touch shorter? Like a centimetre off all around?” Rosa looked at me for agreement. I grudgingly nodded.

Alice insisted on paying and as she did I took in my new cut in the mirror, again stroking my bald nape as I tried to come to terms with what had been done. My new bob was less classic, more edgy. The previous cut had had something childish but now my image was more extreme, the angular fringe and undershave giving it a punky touch. I shivered as I thought that now I'd come under Alice's influence. This was how she wanted me to look and I had to submit to her wishes. Maybe that wasn't quite right. I needed to submit to her wishes, and I loved to.

Rosa interrupted my reverie. “That fringe will lose shape quickly but I'll be happy to do a fringe trim for you when you want to pop in.”

“I'm back in town next week,” Alice added. “I'll make sure she comes in then. We need it looking sharp, don't we, baby?”

I willingly agreed to Alice's suggestion.

Once more we met at the railway station. I ran to hug Alice as I saw her approaching. We'd both had busy weeks and hadn't had nearly enough time speaking to each other. She ran her hand over my nape. “You didn't keep it shaved! I'm not happy about that. I'm going to take you to Miss Rosa later to get you fixed up nice.”

“Miss Rosa?” I laughed.

“Yes, that's what you'll call her from now on. She makes you so pretty and I think you should show her more respect. Besides, I love seeing you getting all red and embarrassed. It's so cute.”

“Let's see how the results turn out,” I said, turning more serious. “I've been losing sleep all week. I'm really nervous, Alice. I keep worrying something bad happened.”

She kissed me on the cheek. “I've got no concerns at all. I feel fine, in fact better than ever. You really need me, don't you? You're such a worrier.”

We asked to see the doctor together and our request was reluctantly agreed. As soon as I saw her face I knew that my pessimism wasn't misplaced. “I'm afraid the results of the scan show that there is some damage to pathways in the frontal lobe,” she said without preamble. “It seems that the drug caused toxicity in some neurons and that's caused those pathways to be lost.”

“So the changes we've experienced are permanent?” Alice asked.

“Yes, the changes are irreversible, but what tends to happen in cases of brain injury is that there are compensatory actions in the long term. For instance, your impulsiveness is likely to reduce over time, and there are therapies that can assist.” Alice looked at me with a wry smile. I knew she'd refuse anything that would make her more like her old self.

“So you're admitting responsibility for the damage we've suffered?”

The doctor was suddenly defensive. “It's too early to say. We have to investigate why this syndrome has developed. I should say that there is good news. Your cognitive functioning seems to be unimpaired. Have you experienced any difficulties with memory? Struggling to find words? Forgetting where you put things?”

“I have been a bit forgetful,” I admitted.

“You've been under a lot of stress too. We need to assess over a longer period to see if there are any changes.”

“This syndrome we've developed, has it been seen before?” Alice asked. The doctor suggested it wasn't like anything that they'd been able to find in medical literature.

“But there are similar cases in other trials of this drug?” A nod. “And you still maintain it could be caused by something other than the medication we took?”

“I understand your frustration but I can't tell you what you want to hear. I have responsibilities to my employer and I can't admit fault on their part before we've completed a full investigation. These things can take time. Our legal representatives will meet with your lawyers to discuss short term arrangements. We don't want you to think that we're anything but supportive of your position.” I noticed her looking at Alice's arms with a pitying look. “We'll ensure that you have access to the best medical treatment and therapies.”

“What about expenses? We're taking more and more time off work. My employer's tolerance isn't infinite.”

“I'm sure that some arrangements can be made to contribute to your living expenses.

I saw when we got out that Alice was furious. “She's disgusting,” she fumed. “Did you see her looking at us? Like we were something dirty and piteous. You know, it would be in our interests to go more and more extreme with our look?”

“It would?” I was feeling alarmed.

“Sure. It would help our case if people like her were adjudicating. We used to be nice pretty little girls, respectable and well brought up, but now we've turned into real freaks and we can't help ourselves because of the drug they gave us.”

“I'm not sure I want to be a freak though, Alice.”

She laughed. “I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from,” she said apologetically. “I do fly off the handle, don't I? It must be the impairment to my impulse control. I never used to be like this. That's why we're good for each other! You're much more cautious and sensible, so that counteracts my wildness, but my optimism balances your tendency towards negativity and inaction. We're like yin and yang. We're perfect for each other.”

I hugged her to me. “I agree. I can't wait to move in. I hate being away from you.”

“And you need me!” She rubbed at my nape. “We need to get you to Rosa for a good close shave and get your fringe nice and pointy.”

We took a taxi and soon we were in the salon, which was almost deserted. Alice greeted Rosa like a long lost lover and then turned to me. “What are you going to call her?” she asked.

“Hello Miss Rosa,” I said, struggling to hide my embarrassment.

“Miss Rosa?” she laughed. “What's going on with you two? Is there some joke I'm not in on?”

“Oh, it's not a joke,” Alice explained. “You were very important in showing my little love about some very deep feelings she has. And I fell in love with her when I saw the cute little bob you gave her. So as a mark of respect, my very submissive little girlfriend will address you as Miss Rosa.”

Rosa started to giggle. “Aw, poor little Katie! Did Alice tell me more about you that you wanted?”

“Yes, Miss Rosa.” There was more teasing at my reply.

As I took to the chair Alice spoke. “We'd only planned for a quick shave and a fringe trim but I feel bad, it's dead here today. You must get bored on days like this.”

“I do enjoy being busy,” Rosa admitted.

“How about you give little Katie a new colour? Entirely your choice.”

Rosa laughed and looked at me. “Would you like that, Katie? Something a bit more daring than your ginger?”

Alice was smiling but I knew she wouldn't allow me to refuse. “Yes Miss,” I said nervously.

“You do look like a pretty little sub with your bob, I suppose I'd unconsciously picked up on that when I cut it first. Let's get you all shaved up first.”

I was wrapped up in a cape and once more my hair was pinned up to expose the dark stubble that had grown in the last week. Rosa rubbed her hands over it and made a delighted vocalisation. “Like suede, feels so good. But unfortunately for you I prefer smooth. It's got a bit long for a razor, it'll drag if I shave it like this. Probably best to clipper shave you first.”

“No, Rosa, she has to learn. She should keep it shaved herself and if she doesn't there are consequences.”

“Oh, she's a tough one, your girl,” Rosa whispered. “She scares me so I'm not doing anything to upset her.” She winked at Alice. I felt her slap shaving foam over the stubble and massage it in. “We're keeping the fringe the same as last time?” she asked.

“I think so. Did you have other ideas?” Alice asked.

“The V fringe is very high maintenance. I could just even it off.”

“Really? That would be very short. Right to the top of her forehead.”

“It would. But she has a nice forehead so where's the harm. It would look very subby.”

“Oh, you're making me want it now,” Alice laughed. “Would you like it, Katie?”

I winced. “Right up to my hairline?” Rosa nodded. “Oh god, that would look so geeky.” I gave a little cry of distress as the razor pulled down over my nape, dragging uncomfortably at the stubble.

“Sit still,” Rosa ordered. “You shouldn't have let it grow for a week if you wanted it to be easier to shave.”

“Yes,” Alice chipped in. “Apologise to the nice lady.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Rosa,” I said gloomily as I endured more tugging from the blades.

“So do you want a nice blunt fringe again? I think Rosa might have a good point, about your point,” she laughed. “The V is a bit too edgy. Do you want to look more like my little sub again?”

I looked at her with fear and excitement. The idea of getting such a brutal fringe was making me want to be alone again with Alice, my excitement growing toward a level where I could no longer contain it. I nodded at her. She pointed to Rosa to prompt me to speak.

“Please Miss Rosa, can you give me a nice short blunt fringe?”

“It will be a pleasure, Katie. It's going to be a big change from how you looked when we first met.”

Alice laughed. “She only had that haircut a week or two. She used to have long brown hair until about a month ago. She was so pretty.”

Rosa tugged at my ear and shaved roughly around it. “I thought that cut looked fresh. You're a little haircut addict, aren't you? This is your third time here in less than two weeks, and four salon trips in a month?” I confirmed that she was correct. “But you used to have long hair, so I guess you didn't have regular cuts. What's happened?”

“Oh, that's complicated...” Alice wouldn't let me get away with evasion.

“Tell her our story. I'm sure Rosa will find it interesting.”

“Alice and I met at a study at the university, we were volunteers in a pharmaceutical trial. We both had a reaction to the drug that's caused neurological changes. We've both become impulsive and obsessive since we had the drug.”

Rosa looked incredulous, only appearing to accept my explanation when Alice nodded. “All my tattoos were done after I'd been treated. I'd never even considered a tattoo before and now I'll have full sleeves as soon as I can get the money together.”

“That's... I don't know what it is!” Rosa said. “Aren't you upset?”

“I'm not, I'm happier than I've ever been. Poor little Katie though, she was in despair when she started to feel the need to get her hair cut. But fortunately she found me and we fell in love, so really things couldn't have turned out better.”

Rosa laughed. “I think you're so good together. It's the strangest love story I ever heard, but it's beautiful when people turn misfortune into something positive.”

“And now we're hoping to get a big compensation pay out and we'll be rich too,” Alice laughed. “We just have to show how we're suffering so much so that they have to take pity on us. Actually, Katie does suffering much better than me. Once I've got a few more changes to how she looks I'm sure she'll be very convincing when they interview her. 'I used to be a normal little girl but look at me now! I'm a freak and I can't stop doing these things to myself!'”

“Oh Katie,” Rosa said, “are you going to get all the things done that your tattooed girlfriend wants for you?”

Alice spoke. “The thing is she's so obsessive that I only have to start her thinking about something and tell her I like it and she can't resist it any more, even though consciously she might hate it. Like the ultra short fringe you suggested, she was probably horrified, weren't you, Katie?” I nodded. “But how do you feel about it now?”

I felt my shame growing. “I really want you to cut it, Miss Rosa. I mean, really want it.”

Alice smiled. “She's just adorable, and so sexy. She's my perfect little angel.” She made my excitement grow with a lingering kiss on my cheek.

And Rosa was now pulling the razor over my scalp with scarcely a hint of resistance. I was smooth again, and that only made me feel pleasure. “I've been reading up on how to get the closest shave. Someone suggested this and I've been wanting an opportunity to try it out.” She'd gone into a cabinet and taken out an electric shaver, a triple headed rotary design. “Want to see how it feels, Katie?” Of course I agreed.

The feeling wasn't as pleasant as the teasing buzz of the clippers, and the sound was an irritating whine. My scalp was very sensitive and the heads chafed at my skin, leaving a raw, burning sensation as she pressed the shaver hard against my head. I make it sound like I didn't enjoy the experience but I'd started to like being discomforted and the knowledge that Rosa was pushing me toward an ever more perfect shave was thrilling. Every time I glanced up I saw Alice smiling at me. As the motors were silenced she came toward me, hand outstretched.

“Ah ah!” Rosa said firmly. “Not yet, I'm going to put some lotion on her scalp first.”

She applied it liberally and I cooed as I felt how cool and soothing it was. The burning and rawness seemed to vanish instantly and it had a beautiful perfume, sweet yet slightly sharp. She caressed my scalp and neck until the lotion had been absorbed. “OK, Miss Alice, your little sub is ready for your inspection.”

“Oh, wow. That's just so soft and smooth. I'm absolutely wetting myself,” she giggled. “Feel it, Katie, it's just perfect.”

I allowed my hand to nestle between Alice's and sighed as I felt just how hairless my scalp was. And the lotion had made it feel like silk.

“We're getting you one of those shavers and a bottle of that lotion,” Alice insisted. “This is so sexy.”

“Ladies, this is a salon, not a bordello,” Rosa laughed. “We could have a customer come in!”

“I'm sorry,” Alice said. “Katie is such a naughty girl, isn't she? She deserves a punishment. How about she's not allowed to see her new hair at all? Hide the mirror and she leaves here not knowing how she looks?”

“Aw, that's cruel,” Rosa said. “Does Katie think she can bear that?”

A towel was clipped over the mirror and as soon as it was done Rosa set to work on my fringe. She smoothed it over my forehead with a comb, then the shears snipped. Alice watched closely. “Oh, that is short,” she said. “Do you think it's too severe?” She was teasing, I thought but then I couldn't see any humour. Perhaps she did really think it was unflattering.

“It probably is,” Rosa agreed. “I want it to look as severe as possible. She's going to look sub, remember.”

As I rose from the chair Alice ordered me to keep my eyes on the floor. “There are mirrors everywhere in here and I don't want you catching a glimpse of yourself.” Rosa embraced me and told me I looked cuter than ever.

“I've never enjoyed my job more than my sessions with you ladies,” she said. “I hope we can do this often.”

Alice looked sad. “I'm afraid that Katie is moving in with me in a few weeks. I'd love to keep coming here but the journey here is so long. I promise we'll make it a couple of times a year, but it's too much to make this our regular salon.”

Rosa was obviously disappointed. “Well please come and see me one last time before she moves away. And how about I do something with your mop, Alice? I'm sure Katie would love to see you with a really hot new style.”

“Oh, yes, let's do that. I'll be in touch to let you know when I'm in town.”

We said our goodbyes and I headed out into the city with my new hair colour and my bared forehead. I had no idea how I looked.

“Don't be looking in shop windows to see your reflection,” Alice warned. “If you get a look by accident I'll take you back to Rosa and get her to do another colour. Or I might just shave your head completely.”

“I won't, I promise,” I said fearfully. I knew Alice might just carry out her threats. “I just need to see myself, though, Alice. I feel like I'm going to explode with my curiosity.”

“Curious? Is that a euphemism for horny? If you make me cum when we're back at yours I'll let you look in a mirror.”

Alice's self control was amazingly strong. Despite my best efforts she resisted. And if she didn't climax then I didn't either. The following day I saw her off at the station, still unaware of my new hair colour. “You be a good girl and head off to work now. No peeking, ok? If you get through the day without looking I'll call you tonight. When we're on the phone I'll let you look in the mirror and we'll take it from there. Promise to be good?”

“Oh, but Alice, I'm bound to see a reflection by accident, or someone will comment on the colour.”

“If that happens it happens. But I want you to be ignorant of how you look for as long as possible. You'll cum so hard when I let you if you're a good girl. And let me know if the shaver is there.” We'd ordered one online and it was due to be delivered to a local shop by the afternoon.

I entered the coffee shop where I worked feeling horribly nervous. “Wow, another new haircut?” one of the other staff said as I walked in. “It looks really cute. I'd never imagined you with a style like that.”

I thanked her but couldn't hide my embarrassment. I felt like I was regressing into the shyness that had made me suffer so much when I was young.

All day long I felt stiflingly paranoid. A customer smiling at me seemed someone who revelled in my humiliation, smirking at my ridiculousness. I couldn't face my colleagues and tried to avoid them wherever possible. At the end of my shift I rushed home.

I immediately called Alice. “I did it,” I said proudly. “I got through the day without seeing my hair.”

“And no one mentioned the colour?”

“Not specifically. Someone said it's really bright.”

“Yes? It's not really. Go and get a mirror but don't look. Actually, first get your laptop and let's see each other on camera.”

Only once she had a view of me was I allowed to finally look at myself. “Oh shit... that fringe!” I wailed. “It's awful, Alice. My forehead looks huge!”

She only looked amused. “You should be proud of your forehead, high and wide. It makes you look smart. Your fringe just shows it off.”

I stroked at my bob. “And it's green,” I groaned. It was a vivid emerald green with lighter turquoise streaks blended through the little remnant of fringe.

“You love it, don't you, baby? The extremeness of the fringe, the bold colour. It's something you really enjoy.”

I looked at her. Did I really like the girl I'd become?

“You can undress and finger yourself if you admit that it makes you feel sexy.”

“It does,” I said guiltily.

“Next time we go back to Rosa she can do as she pleases with your hair, can't she? You trust her to make you look sexy.”

“Really? It's already so short. She'll probably leave me nearly bald.”

“I wouldn't mind if you were totally bald. Did you get your shaver?”

“I did.”

“Go get it, you can shave yourself as you play with your pussy.”

Soon I sat in front of the camera naked running the new shaver over my nape as I started to rub myself. I'd been trying to contain my arousal for so long that I barely dared touch myself, since I knew I could orgasm so easily.

“What do you think about being totally bald?” she asked. I bit my lip as she smiled at me seductively. “I mean, feel your nape now. Imagine how good it would feel if your entire head were like that. Would you like that?”

I ran my fingers over the area of scalp that I'd just mown back to near perfect smoothness. I nodded, ashamed of my need to feel sexy, which was starting to far outweigh any sense of propriety or caution.

Alice wrinkled her nose. “Wow, Katie, I was only teasing. I don't think you'd look so good bald. Still, if you decide you really want it and you keep begging me I might let you try it for a month or two.” I knew she'd snared me already. I had only to feel a strong desire for something for it to become fixed, obsessional. I knew that the idea of being bald would nag away at me, no matter how much my rational mind told me that being shaved bald was something normal girls didn't ever think about. “Press that shaver really hard against your scalp. I want it to be the closest shave you ever had, smooth and sexy.” I did as she asked and rubbed my scalp. I could feel the graininess of the hairs growing back in where the shaver hadn't touched. The newly smoothed areas were so much smoother and nicer. I pressed on, eager to make my whole undercut as hairless as I could. The strands of bob flopping over my temples were a distraction and for a moment I contemplated pushing the shaver up into the longer hair, and making myself bald right away. I screamed with passion and gave in to the uncontrollable excitement. “I'm cumming,” I gasped. “Oh, Alice, I wish we were together. I love you.”

I went to visit Alice ten days later, my first visit to the place I'd soon call home. She'd said almost nothing since we'd met at the station, just smiling at me mysteriously. As soon as we were inside she threw herself at me and tore away my clothes. “You little bitch, how dare you look so sexy?” she screamed, and we both fell laughing to her bed. She stroked my nape. “You shaved this morning, just for me, didn't you? It's absolutely dreamy, baby.” She started to kiss my scalp which was the most beautiful feeling.

“I got sent some money toward expenses, and you should be getting a payment too. I'm going to blow mine on some pampering later, but I need you to fulfil me before I go or I'll me unbearably horny all the time and embarrass myself.”

We spent almost two hours in bed, exploring, delighting in each other's company, in our bodies. At the end Alice pushed my head down firmly between her thighs. She shivered as she rubbed at my scalp and I began to use my tongue to bring her bliss to a peak. After we lay in each other's arms in silent contemplation. Nothing needed to be said, we were as happy as we'd ever be.

We showered together and Alice gave me the treat of shaving my undercut. The razor probably didn't touch the stubble (the shaver cut closer) but it felt delicious, even more so when we were out of the shower and she roughly towelled it dry and anointed the tender skin with my favourite lotion. She styled my bob, smooth and gleaming, far nicer than I could manage. Then she added more make-up than I was used to, deep red lips and sharp eyeliner wings. Alice's hair (which she'd kept covered in the shower) was looking wilder than ever, and she added some dark powder into the roots to give it more volume. She looked at herself admiringly in the mirror. “I look so witchy,” she giggled. “I love my wild hair. I suppose it's tempting to let Rosa do something really new though. Would you like it if she took it really short and neat?”

I hugged her. “I think I'd cry if she cut it short! Don't let her, please Alice. You have such sexy hair.”

“Isn't yours sexy too?” She stroked my bald nape then kissed it. “This feels hot, Katie. And sometimes I feel really envious that you can reach up and feel this whenever you like and I just feel my long hair. Wouldn't you like your girlfriend to try short hair? A really boyish cut so I look androgynous?”

I shivered. “I don't know, Alice. You always have my head spinning. That sounds really intriguing but I love your long hair.”

“So if I stay the same you'll do all the changing for both of us? Did you think more about being completely bald?”

I nodded. “Sometimes I get the urge to do it. Just chop it all off and run the shaver over my head. Get rid of every hair on my body.”

“Oh Katie! All your hair? Even your little eyebrows? And those long pretty eyelashes? You'd look like some weird big baby. Do you really want that? To be a hairless freak?”

She started to kiss me excitedly and I knew the idea excited her. I couldn't resist her attentions and I became breathless. “I don't want it,” I said sadly. “I know I'd be so upset but I get these urges, same as you do. It feels... like a sickness, something pathological. It scares me that I won't be able to control myself one day.”

“I'll still love you after you give in, baby. We're special now. The changes we underwent were sacred. We should listen to our urges, not try to be conventional.”

I was close to tears. “You want me to be bald? If I gave into everything I imagine I don't know where it would end up. It terrifies me, Alice.”

“It doesn't matter where your ideas lead you, you'll always have me beside you to hold your hand and love you and worship you for your beauty. I think we're privileged, baby. Convention holds us back, imposes rigid ideas about what looks right. We can free ourselves of those repressions. What we feel the urge to do is what's right and proper and beautiful.”

“Are you saying you want me to shave now?”

“When you need to do it then don't fight it. Maybe you should let Rosa have your hair next week and see how she wants to make you look. Do you think the urge will be too much before next week?”

I shook my head with some relief. “I'm sure I can resist for a while longer.” I knew that letting go would unleash something dangerous, that I'd start to feel separated from everything and everyone that had once seemed so important, but that with Alice encouraging me I would soon give in to my compulsions.

When we headed out I found that Alice's idea of pampering wasn't a day in a spa but an opportunity to add to her tattoos. As she greeted the artist who would eventually cover her arms with pigment, she looked excited. “I had an idea,” she gushed. “I thought it would be really cool to give the tattoos a texture like a tapestry. That the colour would be arranged like a grid of little knots. Almost like a pixel pattern but softer.” Her tattooist, Kristen, nodded as Alice showed her some images on her tablet to illustrate her ideas.

“That does sound interesting, Alice. It would certainly add a challenge to doing them but I like being pushed outside my comfort zone. And it would look original. I never saw a tattoo like that.”

“Could you even add a texture to the black? Make it look like a woven material?”

“I suppose. I'd have to think about the best way to make that work but I'd leave the black till the end anyway.”

Alice reclined in the chair and Kristen began to add the first colour to her arm, working on a blue flower, four inches wide, on the inside of her left bicep. She drew in a fine grid in pen to act as a guide over which the individual dots of colour would be placed, and progress was infuriatingly slow. My initial excitement at seeing Alice's tattoos start to flourish into colour soon gave way to an ennui at the repetitiveness of the actual work. I'd fallen into a reverie from which I was woken by a tap at the door.

A pretty young woman entered and smiled at me. “Is this her? Katie, yes? I'm ready for you now.”

I smiled at her but couldn't hide my confusion. Alice called me over and pulled my ear to her lips. “This is Joanna, she's a piercer. She's going to put some nice decorations in you. I've told her a few to start but I want you to be a brave girl. Get as many as you can take. Make me proud of you. You want a lot of piercings to look pretty for me, don't you?” I looked at her, my need to satisfy her obliterating all sense of caution.

“I do,” I panted.

“You'll adore the pain of being pierced. I know you will. I'll see you later, my little sexy baby.”

I followed Joanna into her studio. She looked at me with a smile. She had a very friendly face and I felt an immediate liking for her. “Alice said I should be firm with you. You like that?” I nodded and felt embarrassed. She didn't look at all strict.

“Well you should undress completely. You need to take off everything, underwear too.” I hesitated and she raised her voice. “Come along, Katie, Alice is paying. Do you want me to charge her extra because you took so long? Do you think you have something special under your clothes, something I haven't seen before?” She kept giggling as she issued her orders which only added to the weirdness of the situation, but she seemed to be enjoying her role.

I slipped out of my dress and took off my bra and panties. She'd sat now and stared at me with her friendly smile. “See, that wasn't anything to worry about, was it? You're a pretty girl and you have a nice body. And now you're going to have a nice body with some piercings. I'll start with your nipples. Why don't you play with them while I prepare? It's easier to fit the rings if they're engorged.” She looked like she was joking and I hesitated. “Katie, I told you to do something. Please don't try to disobey me.” I started to rub self-consciously at my breasts.

Katie scrubbed her hands and slipped on sterile gloves. “You do have an odd haircut, Katie. It's all shaved underneath?” I nodded. “Let me see.” I lifted the sides of my bob to let her see the undercut. “Oh, you're practically bald. It looks really weird. Does shaving turn you on?” I nodded, feeling my cheeks turning crimson. “Don't nod, speak when you're asked a question. And address me as Miss.”

“Yes it does, Miss. I've even...” I decided I'd said enough.

“You've even what?” she said, laughing still, but very insistent.

“I've considered shaving all my hair.”

“A bald head?” she laughed.

“All of my hair. Eyebrows, eyelashes even, Miss,” I admitted. I was still rubbing at my nipples and the confession was a terrible humiliation yet I was getting more horny by the second.

“That would just look so weird, Katie. You want to go too far? Do you want that sort of attention?”

“I just can't help myself. I have problems with impulse control, Miss.”

She moved my left hand and wiped a cold swab over the nipple. “You're going to come and show yourself off to me after you shave off all your hair, aren't you?” She pulled away my right hand and scrubbed at that nipple now. They'd both stiffened, enlarged.

“I will, Miss,” I promised.

“Do you think you'll enjoy me piercing you?” She took a pen and made dots on each side of both nipples.

“I don't know, Miss. I think I'll struggle with the pain. But I want to do it for Alice.”

“I'm ordering you to keep looking while I pierce you. It will add to the sensation. Alice thinks you have an addictive personality. She thinks you'll become addicted to piercings. I think I'd like that.” She unsheathed a piercing needle. It was very thick and I shuddered as I imagined it passing through my flesh. She clamped forceps on my left nipple, aligning the holes in the tips with the marks she'd made. “Take a deep breath, Katie, and don't take your eyes off.” She pressed the needle to my skin and pushed. I felt a stinging as the point pressed into my nipple, then suddenly the real pain flared as it tore through the surface. I watched the wound redden, a red bead appearing, then drip. All the time the metal tube burrowed deeper until there was a faint sensation of a pop as it exited on the inner side.

“Breathe,” Joanna said. “It wasn't so bad was it?” I shook my head, but I felt weak. I wanted to sit but didn't dare move. She fed a tube through the needle, then eased it free. My nipple was now pierced by a length of tubing through which she fed a heavy ring. Despite my pain and discomfort (I felt sick and shaky) I knew that I was experiencing a tremendous rush of adrenaline. I groaned as she eased the tube free, the raw flesh burning at the slightest friction. And now my pink nipple was set with a thick titanium ring, three millimetres thick, a larger bead hanging from the bottom.

“Looks sexy, doesn't it?” Joanna asked.

“Yes Miss,” I agreed.

“Can you keep on your feet and watch while I do the other?”

“I think so, Miss, but I am feeling shaky.”

By the time Joanna flicked the ring she'd just fitted in my right nipple I was almost unable to stand. The casual tap made me squeal and stagger back as if she'd struck a heavy blow. My legs had turned to jelly and she had to guide me back onto the bed.

“Did that hurt, Katie,” she said teasingly. I nodded, returning her smile. She made me feel like a little girl. “I think it's time we turned up the intensity, isn't it? I'm glad you're nice and smooth downstairs. Makes my work so much easier.”

I felt her swab my labia, all the time scolding me for being wet. “I'm a little worried that you're falling for me. No one ever gets this turned on by a piercing. I'm going to tell Alice that you're unfaithful to her.”

“Please, no, Miss,” I begged. “I am turned on, but Alice is the only girl in the world for me. You've now idea how much she means to me. Please don't say I'd ever do anything to hurt her, even as a joke.”

She giggled. “It's so cute that you like her so much, even though she wants you to suffer.” I let out a gasp of despair as she pushed a needle through my left labium. “She told me to do this to you. Do you think that's because she loves you?”

“Yes it is,” I whispered hoarsely, then cried out louder as she pierced me again. I glanced down and saw two needles protruding from my labium, only half an inch apart. “I need this, she understands me,” I insisted. A third piercing made me struggle to suppress a scream. The tenderness caused by the previous piercings seemed to add to my sensitivity and this latest piercing was the most intense yet.

“I suppose you want me to continue,” she said with her bright smile, maintaining her innocent expression despite her delight in my pain. “Both labia need to be pierced, don't they?”

“Yes, Miss,” I said through gritted teeth.

“I think you'll cry, won't you? I think you're already struggling to manage how much pain you're feeling.” I nodded.

As the second piercing was made in the opposing labium I finally gave in and began to cry. The wide needles had left me feeling a deep ache and I longed for the pain to end, although the adrenaline rush had intensified to the point where I felt wired. I sobbed as the rings were fitted, sobbed as she wiped me clean, sobbed as she helped me to my feet. The rings were as big as those in my nipples and they weighed down and stretched my lips. Every movement made the jewellery swing from side to side and the feeling was utterly strange. I stared in the mirror at the bright metal gleaming now surrounding my sex.

Joanna whispered in my ear. “That's all that Alice insisted on for you, but once you're healed I think we should add more metal to your pussy. But she wants you to show you love her by getting more piercings. When you're dressed none of these will show. Wouldn't you like something that everyone can see?” I nodded. “Where should I start?”

“My... lip?”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“Please start with a nice lip piercing. Two lip piercings, Miss,” I corrected. I was eager to please her, eager to please everyone, I suppose. I wanted her to give a positive report of my conduct to Alice.

After more pain I looked in a mirror and saw lips that had carried two bright beads, in the centre at the bottom and to the right of the upper. I could see that the swelling caused by the wound had distorted the shape of my top lip. I probed at the flat plates on the inside and tasted blood. Still, something about the feeling of metal in my mouth was pleasing.

“When you come back here with your bald head I think I'll do something dramatic with your ears. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Katie?”

I imagined myself as a bald girl with ears hung with numerous heavy rings. I sighed and nodded. The idea seemed irresistible, although I knew it would indicate another letting go of the girl I wanted to be.

“And would you like to ask me for more piercings now?” Joanna looked at me expectantly and I knew I couldn't disappoint her.

“Nose,” I said. I was hurting all over, and despite the rush the piercings had given me I was desperate for this ordeal to end. My irrational compulsions overrode any sensible actions.

Joanna didn't offer me a choice of where my nose would be pierced. She forced another needle through my septum and the pain was agonising. I cried like a baby as she fitted a ring, apologising for my weakness. “Do you want more,” she said, her smile never absent.

“I can't take more. Let's leave it there for today, please, Miss.”

“Well...” She giggled at my discomfort. “Alice said that once you asked to stop I was to add one more if you hadn't already asked. And you didn't ask for your tongue to be pierced, did you?” I shook my head. She looked at me and poked out her tongue as a prompt for me to do the same.

The tongue piercing was certainly the bloodiest, and one of the more painful (although by now I couldn't recall which had hurt most). I moved my tongue awkwardly as I adjusted to the long bar which now transected it. Joanna wiped my mouth to rid it of the blood stains. “You can dress now. Leave off your underwear, it will only chafe at the wounds.”

I walked clumsily back to the studio where Alice had now been provided with a bright blue flower on her arm. She greeted me enthusiastically and called me to her. She flicked back my hair to examine my ears and looked puzzled. “You only got three piercings?” she said mischievously. “I have to say, I feel let down.”

“There are a few more,” I said, my voice almost unintelligible, lips and tongue almost paralysed by pain and swelling.

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