It was a difficult decision."Don't remember me, do you?" I asked, and she squinted and cocked her head."Yes I do," she said, nodding. "Now I do. You r...n off. Didn't even, but you're a soldier, a rebel." She stood, brush still in her hand, and I enjoyed watching her pointed breasts jiggle and her nipples harden. She was barefoot, and the top of her curly head barely reached my chin. Her hair flowed nearly to her waist."Yep," I said, "that's me, and I need some help. I've got a wounded man out in. " Man, I have to stopsaying mommy or she is going to think I like being treated like a littlebaby girl. Smiling back at the concerned look on mommy face.Mommy puts her hands out to me, meaning give her the water bottles. I handthem to her. "Let me put these in your Barbie backpack so we don't forgetthem. I guess your backpack is too heavy now, so I'll have to carry it andyou can carry the diaper bag." Oh wonderful just what I wanted mommy. I don't have to carry the world'smost girly Barbie. "Yes, Mistress," Cheryl was into it, completely, as if I'd thrown a switch suddenly in that little bar downstairs."Tell me why you want to be my slave," I commanded her, sitting down on the bed and happy to watch her."Mistress, I..." She licked her lips, unbuttoning her blouse with trembling fingers."Look at me," I reminded her and she rewarded me with her beautiful hazel eyes beneath her auburn hair."I'm ... I don't know," she was breathing hard. "You're so strong, so ... confident and. I wanted to leap.*I stood on the burning plain again, the black sky dome contrasting withthe blinding white landscape. I was dressed as Wonder Woman, and the goldon my tiara and bustier was burnished bright.Abi was beside me, or at least an avatar of her. She was statuesque,diaphanous, beautiful. Like me she stared up at the moon."Why the costume?" she asked. In the conceptual language we were speakingshe also meant: "Why the mask?/ Who are you now?" I wanted to be strong," I said, though this.
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