JESSICA

[0000]

All right. Screw it. No more cheesy file numbering system. (The phone keeps taking out the numbers and replacing them with blank spots anyway). You are Holli Would.

You're Holli Would, I repeated to myself. Be brave.

"Yes," I said. "I've always wanted to try S&M. Well, anything sexual. Why?"

He just gave me a dumb look. "How does it work?"

I stared at him in disbelief. "You're asking me?"

My new boyfriend looked embarrassed. "Yes. I do not understand the concept, and these things have no instruction manual. Is that bad?"

I burst out laughing. "You're serious. You don't know what you're supposed to do."

He reddened, literally. "You make a joke at my expense?"

I waved at the cases full of...equipment. "Then what's all this?" I said. "Surely you wouldn't-"

"It came with the apartment. The previous tenant went to jail. I kept it because it looks nice."

I chortled through my nose, then laughed out loud. "And you have two experts living downstairs!"

He blushed. "I was too embarrassed to ask."

This made me laugh more. "Okay, Mr. Be Brave And Be Yourself!"

So...not the `rape bind torture kill' sort of guy, I decided.

Feeling extremely relieved, and much more comfortable with him now, I threw an arm around his shoulder. "Let's go have that drink."

Around the corner lay one of those designer kitchens. Lots of clean angular lines, fancy sink, fridge set flush into the wall, stove with two dimensional burners (like fancy stoves in the real world). No visible trash can, you probably had to access it by pulling out a drawer built into the marble topped island in the center.

At the rear stood a cozy little table with a couple tall stools positioned around it. Chad gestured for me to sit as he pulled a chilled bottle of...I don't know, cartoon vintage? out of the fridge.

He poured some vino into a glass for me. "So. You are an artist."

"Yes," I said, wondering if he'd spied on me, watching me sketch pictures with my underwear off.

"You told me of your difficulties. Why are you not rich and famous?"

"Because I live, correction: lived, in the real world. It's a hard field to break into. You can't just fill out an application. There's too many artists to compete against. There really is no demand for it." I sighed. "And you can never tell what these companies want."

Chad looked puzzled, probably because he never had to fill out a job application in his entire life.

I sipped the wine, which again tasted like soda pop. "Even on the internet, there's too much competition. You get ignored. People pass your stuff by for someone with slightly more talent. Even with my degree, I have no better chance than a high school dropout. It's all about who you know, and I don't know anyone. That's why I work where I work."

He poured a glass for himself. "Your world sounds difficult."

"It is," I groaned. "It is."

As we gazed at each other, I thought I heard strains of Austin Roberts' Daydreamin' playing from somewhere.

"I must confess to you that I have not been truthful, my sweet. I did not lose my eye in a gang fight. I am deeply ashamed to tell you this, but the injury happened when I got drunk and fell down a staircase. You see, I get so lonely..."

"It's okay." I chuckled a little. "I actually like that story better. Thank you for sharing."

He looked surprised. "You do not think any less of me?"

"Of course not," I said. "To be honest, it makes me like you more."

I smiled. "So..." I pantomimed dancing with my fingers on the tabletop.

"Very well, spicy peach. I shall demonstrate. Follow me, where there is more room."

I picked up my fake wine, following him into the hardwood area between the entry hallway and a big ceiling to floor window.

"I will change," he said.

He disappeared for literally a second, returning in a nylon bodysuit. I expected a tutu, but was glad he didn't go for something cheesy like that. I supposed he was serious.

The Blue Danube Waltz started up from somewhere, and he...actually impressed me.

A couple times he even scooped me into his arms, tossing me in the air, with my drink still clutched in my hand. As you may or may not know, most cartoon drinks do not spill.

In fact, one time a goldfish jumped out of its aquarium, swam around in my drink while Chad was tossing me around, and jumped back in its tank like it had been choreographing the move for a long time.

"In practice, I often balance a glass of water on my nose," Chad explained. "Shimmer likes to perform just as much as I do."

When the dance concluded, I clapped in appreciation. "Bravo!"

He blushed. "Now I change."

"Why?" I said, plucking one of his shoulder straps. "I told you, I like a man in tights."

He blushed more. "Want to see my dolls?"

I giggled, wondering if his fake wine was actually making me tipsy, or if it were some sort of placebo effect. "Sure. Lead the way."

Hearing a voice, we both froze.

Despite us being upstairs, I could very distinctly hear Harris banging on the door, arguing with Miss Terious. An intercom on a desk explained why.

"No one's here," I heard her protest. "It's just Chad and his pet T-Rex. He's trying to teach it ballet."

"You'd better be right."

"Hmmm..." I muttered. "Maybe you were just a tad too loud..."

"Was I not doing ballet, my love?"

"Well..."

"Then it is a good cover story. Let me show you my dolls." He led me into a little den containing black loveseats, a desk, a lava lamp, and framed landscape paintings.

In the center of the room, on a coffee table stood the girliest looking dollhouse I'd ever seen. He placed a hand on it, giving me a conspiratorial grin. "I tell everyone that it belongs to the daughter of a mobster that frequently visits me, but no, it is mine."

I suppressed a laugh.

He rang a doorbell on the little house, and an entire wall slid away, revealing an impressive doll collection, both cartoon and real. It reminded me of my bedroom when I was nine.

"And you're sure you're sure you like women?"

This embarrassed him. "Why? Why must a man who plays with dolls and wears tights have to love men?"

"I don't know. Good question."

"What would I even do with a man? They have no breasts to fondle, no..." His eyes traced the outline of my crotch. "No...beaver to...to dam."

"I agree."

He took a Josie and the Pussycats doll off of a shelf, standing it outside the door of the house.

The doll reminded me of Drew's girlfriend.

I tried not to think about it. Instead I grabbed a weird looking sort of Ken doll with a dog's head, setting it down next to his doll.

"Hello, Josie!" I made my doll say.

"Hello, handsome dog man," Chad made Josie reply.

What followed was kind of weird. We sort of played house with the dolls, combed their hair and stuff, but then we decided the two were making out (me playing the guy and he the girl. I know, really weird.), and then we set the dolls down, got on the loveseat, and started making out for real.

"Tell me about your beaver," he said in between kisses.

I blushed. "There's not much to tell. I sowed him on Holli's outfit and he came to life when I arrived in Cool World."

"Can I touch it?"

"Sure," I said, feeling kind of weird.

I opened my dress, giving him access to the patch.

The first time he put his hand there, my beaver bit him.

"Now Beaver!" I scolded. "Play nice! You might be seeing more of him."

Beaver swallowed. "Sorry."

"Try it again," I said.

Chad did, running his finger down the creature's face, and my crotch by proxy.

I drew in a shuddering breath.

My beaver closed his eyes, let out a deep purr, weakening my legs with the vibrations.

"Stop!" I shouted, though I wasn't sure if I were scolding Chad or the Beaver. "That's enough!"

Chad jerked his hand back.

I gave him a nervous laugh. "No offense. I just want the party to last a little bit longer!"

He blushed. "I understand."

And then Chad and I kissed some more.

"I gotta admit," I muttered when we broke apart for a moment. "You certainly aren't what I expected. You're the most interesting cartoon I've ever encountered."

"With your permission, I would like to make myself more interesting. Explain to me the S&M?"

So I led him back to the glass cases of...stuff.

"There is a closet full of these things in the bedroom," Chad said.

I pointed to a leather dominatrix outfit. "What about that?"

He blushed. "I do not remember. I do not open that closet often."

"But you do open it..."

"You know, I get so lonely..."

"Oh-kay!" I said, a little disturbed.

He opened the case, and I removed the costume, and a whip. "Is there a place where I can change?"

"Will I not see everything eventually?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "It takes the thrill out of it. You got a bathroom or something?"

"I will show you."

He led me to a tidy designer bathroom with an expensive looking shower and a modern sink.

I closed the door and changed.

I'm almost positive there was something lurking in the mirror, ogling my naked body, but I kept telling myself it's no big deal, Holli wouldn't have a problem with it.

My new outfit was, of course, animated. Black bikini, with a `trapdoor' between my legs and tubing running up the seams. It came with high heeled boots, gloves and a dog collar.

I zipped the trapdoor shut, giving myself appraising looks, running my fingers down the side of the costume. The tubing flickered a neon pink for a split second, apparently in response to my body's, um, arousal.

It made my emotions so transparent!

I got scared, hesitating to even step outside. My costume went dark.

"Holli," I breathed, stroking my hip. The tubing flashed, but only for a second.

"So you're kicking me to the curb?" my beaver said from the floor.

"Sorry, `Beav. I don't have an iron or a sewing kit."

"You don't need one. Just pick me up and slap me onto something."

"I don't know...I'm not sure I need you anymore. I've found...a man." My outfit flickered.

"He said he wants to dam a beaver," the patch said.

Blushing, I tugged on the patch until it came off the teddy like a piece of rubber. I only had to touch it to the crotch of my bikini to make it stick like I'd sown it on. I stuck Fifi on the bra portion.

"Merci, mon ami!" the skunk cried with excitement.

"Okay," I breathed, flickering pink. "Let's get dangerous."

I clopped out on those ridiculous heels, stretching and curling the whip.

The ballerina was drooling, literally like a dog.

I closed `doggy's' mouth and asked him where the bedroom was.

Yes, kind of bold.

You know how a horse can `feel its oats'? I think I was feeling my suit. That's the only thing I can figure.

His bedroom was interesting, to say the least. It had bondage mannequins, an iron maiden, a hanging sort of jungle gym with chains dangling from it, The Rack, and something that looked like that scary pillar statue from Hellraiser, matching, in a way, the Hellraiser cube pattern carpet and wall hangings.

But then there was the pastel colored interior paint, the framed pictures of ballerinas, and dolls. Chad even had a Barbie Winnebago on a table.

Okay, so maybe he had a few dolls in bondage attire, but they weren't the majority.

The bedroom had large uncovered windows. If someone passed by the glass, they'd see everything, but Chad assured me it was too high up. Still, it made me uneasy.

He had a queen bed with silver coverings and a wooden headboard that appeared to be modeled after something Lovecraftian, judging by the tentacles.

"You definitely have issues," I said.

He smiled. "Are they good issues?"

I just stared at him.

Awkward silence.

"I've taken self defense classes," I said. "Thought I'd let you know."

"That is informative. Now, please tell me what to do?"

"Um...okay...I'd like for you to...get down on all fours. On the bed."

"I like this," he said, kneeling on the sheets.

"I'm not sure you will in a second."

The atmospheric music changed to John Mellencamp's Hurts So Good.

I cracked the whip on his backside, decided I liked it. There's something indescribably satisfying about whipping a male ballerina in leotards. I'm certain it would generate more interest in The Nutcracker if this practice became more widespread.

Chad didn't agree with this assessment. His first response was, "Ow! Why did you do that?"

"Did you ever watch your friends downstairs?" I chided, whipping him a second time, though a bit more gently.

"What is the purpose of this?"

"I don't know. Isn't it turning you on or something?"

"No. Why would someone do this?"

"Um..." I paused. "Well, according to what I've read, males tend to finish before the women, and pain...extends things."

"Hmm..." It seemed he would have to think about it some before deciding to accept more abuse.

I let him whip me a couple times. I didn't enjoy it as much as I should have, but I figured you had to gain a tolerance for it. I had him put the whip away.

I opened one of his closets, tossing him stuff that gave me ideas, a thong, boots, saddle, a dog collar and a vest. All cartoon leather.

"Uh, change out of those tights and put this stuff on. We're going to roleplay."

He swallowed. "Okay?"

I turned my back. "Let me know when you're done."

"Done," he said.

I spun around and found him...looking rather hot.

Seeing a pink flash, I glanced down at my outfit and saw brilliant neon lines lighting up the seams.

My mind made an instant comparison to the movie Tron, and I started laughing uncontrollably.

Chad looked humiliated and ashamed. "What is so funny?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

I cleared my throat. "You're a horse. Get down on all fours and let me ride you."

He obeyed, and I climbed on. "Giddyap."

And so he crawled around his apartment, neighing in his little outfit.

As we passed the window, I suddenly noticed a gray winged shape swooping by with a loud "Who-o-o-o!"

I shivered a little, temporarily losing the mood. "Chad, what the hell is that?"

"That is Owl Woman. You should ignore her."

"Owl...Woman? What, does she look like an owl?"

"No, she is a superhero."

"Hmm. Never heard of her."

"I did not say she was a good superhero. But she tries."

"Okay?"

"Mostly she protects me. I have not seen her do other things. It is strange. I ask her on a date one time, but she said no. It would not be good. Maybe I compromise her secret identity. I do not know."

"Do you still...love her?"

"Will you hate me if I say yes? It is not a love like I have with you. She is like a good friend. Do you understand?"

I frowned. "Are we talking `good friend that might become something more serious,' or `good friend that I will only ever love as a sister?'"

Tired of holding me up, he laid down on the floor as he thought about it. I idly stroked his tail.

"The second one, I think. I would never want to have her playing pony with me. It is not like that."

"Good," I said. "As long as you don't sleep with her, I'm comfortable with doing more of...what we're doing." I slapped his behind, playing with his tail.

"Oh not this again!" I heard a voice complaining outside.

"At least we're both animated this time."

It was Harris, trying to spy on me again, I guess.

"I'm still allergic to clouds!"

"Hey, Chad," I said. "Can you make some clouds, or smoke, or fog pop out your windows or something?"

He stared at me. "Why would I wish to do that?"

"I heard the cop saying he's allergic."

"Will the Owl Fog Machine do?"

I stared. "What?"

"It was a birthday present." He galloped to a machine that looked like a furnace, pushing it to an open window. He flipped a switch, and the apartment got surrounded by a thick fog.

I heard a scream.

Chad crawled for a few more feet, then unfastened the saddle. "Now I ride."

Grinning, I took up the role of horse. It was only fair.

I think he got more out of it than I did. A couple times, he climbed on behind my saddle, if you catch my drift.

I thought I heard a helicopter flying by. "Chad, did you hear that?"

"Hear what, my love?"

I frowned. "Nothing."

Finding a leash, I got another idea.

I pushed Chad off me and standing up. "Now you're a dog."

I clipped the leash on his collar, giving it a playful tug. His thong bulged as I dragged him around the apartment like he was being walked. Hey, he dragged me around in dinosaur form, right?

Twice I saw the gray shape of this `Owl Woman' flit past the window. One time, I even saw the mysterious phantom standing on a ledge outside the glass, silently watching.

My suit's glowing tubes darkened. I decided to take Chad's advice and ignore it, or her, or whatever, focusing on...making my costume light up again.

I made my kangaroo sit, stay, heel and roll over, wherein I stomped his crotch with my high heel.

"I am in pain," he groaned. "I do not understand why I enjoy this."

I stomped him again.

"It is agonizing but sexy! Please stop! A little."

And then I dragged him onto the bed.

He grabbed me, pulling me onto the covers. "Leather passion fruit. You teach me exciting things. I am getting ideas..."

"What...kind of ideas?" I sort of purred.

He took a ball gag out of the closet, showing it to me. "This goes over your mouth. Yes?"

I nodded.

He held it close to my face. "May I?"

I shrugged. "What, you don't want me to talk?"

Instead of answering, he shoves the ball into my mouth.

The appliance is on upside down or something, and it's got some tricky straps to it. I get so annoyed with him that I pull it out and say, "No, no, it goes like this." And I shove it into his mouth, strapping him up good.

The animated material stretched to fit his muzzle perfectly. In fact, he couldn't remove it.

So, um, maybe I've watched a few movies, and read a few things.

The next thing he does is try to handcuff me to the bed. My hands easily slide out with a few wiggles.

"You're not doing that right," I laughed.

I shoved him onto the mattress, slipped his wrists into the cuffs, snapped them down. He's helpless putty in my hands.

I'm sure I heard Run To You by Bryan Adams starting up in the background.

"So..." I seated myself in his lap. "You ever did it before?"

He shook his head.

His manhood throbbed against my beaver, proof that he wasn't playing for the other team, after all.

"Good." I unzipped my trapdoor. "Neither have I. What do you think about, I don't know, me ripping off that thong and...familiarizing myself with what's underneath? Sound good?"

He nodded eagerly.