Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 {Author's Note: This is Psychological Fiction.  Which is to say it posits a
mental complex outside the established Diagnoses.  They don't have a word
for it, it may be pathologically impossible, but entertaining to read...  I
can hope.  Likewise, any discrepancies probably reflect different versions
with obvious self bias.  Try to take the word for the non-delusional PoV,
where available.}

   Amber {ff Saph Nude NS.}

   "Ihn!" She pushes herself out of the pool.  Deep end, reaches out to the
jump-off board for her towel.  "Uhn!" Heroine of the swim team.  Long,
lean, wet.  She pulls her shower-cap off, and the dry waves swing out, the
same color as her eyes.  "Mmmh..."

   I got up, brushed out my skirt, and skipped down the bleachers. 
"Meghan, right?" I didn't over-enunciate the H.

   She nodded.  "Yes?" She tucked it in over her hips.

   "I'm Amber," I heard you were gay, "and." She doesn't grip my hand, and
I don't kiss her's.  I let her hold it a little while, then let it fall. 
No use beating around the bush.  If she had one.  Hairless, except that
distinctive cut, for the racing cap.  Like a greyhound, except brown, I
guessed.  Her nipples relaxed.  She blushed!

   "I don't know what you heard," She wiggled her finger in an ear, "But
what are you a freshman?"

   I nodded.  Almost 14.

   "Hmh," cute grunt to herself, "And I'm not going to deny it, but huh!"
She didn't finish that thought, out loud.

   "I heard you came out to another girl, and she blabbed it all over the
neighborhood." I followed her back to the gym.  Or under them.  She wasn't
in my class, senior.  My league?  You'll never know until you sign up.  I
never was an extra-curricular activity kind of girl.

   "Yeah," she rubbed the back of her neck, "And they've been pretty hard
on me since, but." ...

   "Mhm?" Breathy voice.  Not like out of breath, she turned around, and
looked down.

   "Where you going to swim, or something?"

   "Oh no," I let go of a curl, "I'm here to see you.  Because I'm gay?"
Sigh, "I'm not hitting on you, or anything, but you're older, and probably
know how to handle this sort of, stuff better." She nodded.  Turning away,
she slipped the straps off of her shoulders, and pushed the towel off when
the suit got there.  She didn't cover herself, or show off, just grabbed
her shirt, and shrugged into it.  I let out that breath, and took another
one.  "Hm!  I could really use a friend, a real one, who can understand
it." Should have rehearsed that better.  "You're not going to take a
shower?" These can come right off.

   "You're really flirty, though," she turned back, blushing again.

   "Yeah," I admit it, "Sorry."

   Boxer shorts, and shorts.  I'm a little disappointed.  Dockers, really?
Shorts shorts, not cutoff, and hemmed, 5th pocket on the side, but not like
a cargo-pocket.  "I have a better shower at home," she shrugged.  The
busses were long gone, "I usually jog back anyway." At least it wasn't a
sweat, or track-suit.  Like winter-through spring, she doesn't live far.

   "I didn't make any other plans," I followed her.  Soccor field, trail,
rubber chips...

   "You're really aggressive."

   "Well you're really shy," I toughed her arm, "I like that, but somebody
has to make the moves.  Do you want to do it?" Her hair shook.  Not bangs,
really, but it's longer in the front.  She sweeps it back, and tucks it
behind her ear.  Her eyes would be unremarkable, brown if they weren't
exactly the same color.  The sun hits them, but she squints.  "We'll take
our time." At the bottom of the steps, I take her hand, and lead her down
the trail.

   She's a good girl, I can tell.  Now that she's out, she's been waiting,
patiently to get out of here.  And swimming, she's the best at that, will
probably go State again, or possibly whatever's after that...  Tall, long
in the water with broad hands, and big feet.  "What size are your shoes?"
Why doesn't she play Basketball?

   "15s, in girls.  These are men's 11s." She tucks her bangs behind her
ears, again.  I take her hand, again.  Her dad's a spire, and her mom isn't
short.  I'm petite, I accept that.

   "Giantism?" I guess.

   "My pediatrician said I might have some Adrenal Hyperplasia, whatever
that means.  I'm hormonal, I don't need any pills for it," But or Yet?

   Not really used to talking.  Try to remember the last person I'd seen
her talking to.  Introverted, got that.

   "Well I like it," I'm a little jealous, "You're pretty, and graceful,
and I'm..." Finish that for me?

   "Young," she nodded.  "What?  You are, I'm sure you'll grow more, but
right now..."

   "Uhn!" I want to strangle her, for the first time, "Right, we can work
up to whatever, but for right now we can wait.  Together." She finally got
it.  People, it's not just her.  I can do it.  Well, but it's so much work.
Keeping everything straight, track of everyone, my face on.  The image of
me, or all of them with everyone involved.  She's off in the closet
somewhere, and lonely.  I especially like watching her, watching.  Who she
sighs at, hand bent back under her chin, a breeze blowing her hair.  I
followed her up to her room.  "I have a hell of a fantasy life."

   "Yeah?" she flopped on her bed, and set down her bookbag.  Had to travel
like 5' from her shoulder, she didn't even think about it.  Not so much as
a clunk.  "I like older women, honestly.  Or I'd like one..." The trick
seems to be getting her to say it out loud.

   "Me too," nod brightly.

   Right?  "Idaknow what I'd do with them."

   "You got a phone, or e-mail?" I roll my eyes, "Well we could pass notes,
but I found that writing them out helps me remember, and think about them."

   She nods, "I swim." I nod back, "To think.  Idaknow, it shuts everthing
out, and I just let myself breathe, my body do it's thing, make the
turns..."

   "Huh," she got up.  She was really red, but she didn't look mad at all.
"Well, now that I seen you naked..." She smiles, and pulls off her shirt.

   [Amber, {FF NS Saph Fant}

   I never had a striptease before, or lap-dance.  Whatever that was. 
Sorry about my writing, not my best subject.  Or subjects.  Right,
fantasies.  It was real hot, and i got wet after you left, but i don't
fucking know, i like boobs.  There, i said it, and are you even up to an A
yet?  I don't mean to be mean, but like you said, we're already waiting.

   You're really developed for a freshman, or at least compared to the
other girls in your grade, but.  I don't know, you're pretty, and really
bright, i can tell, but i think we better take it slow.  Or slower.  I
might have been thinking about this longer, but beyond that i don't have
much experience.

   Your not that young, you just look younger, you know?  I don't, know
that is.  Any way, my locker number is 073, up stairs.  In case you can't
get in the locker room, or I don't see you.  I want to, you're so pretty,
and I love your hair.  And your big green eyes, i feel like i could sit
there for hours and just look at them, I guess.  Sorry, i suck at this.]

   [Meghan, {...}

   Do you even fantasise?  I don't mean to sound mean, or anything but your
writing is fine.  I'm not getting out the Red Pen, but switch to pencils,
you can go back with the eraser.  I get the blue pen, it suits you, but
save some paper.

   So, anyway.  Fantasy is how I figured out what I want.  Especially from
myself, if you make your image nice enough, (Yours is just fine, sweety.  I
wouldn't change a thing.) then they come to you.  That's why I came to you,
you're tall, and graceful.  Like a model, and yeah I heard you were gay,
but that's the only way I thought I'd stand a chance.  Yeah, I'm young, but
what are the odds I'd be your same age, or older?  Same league, well you
never know until you sign up!  IDFK, I'll get older, I promise.

   I like your hair, and eyes too.  I never seen them the same exact color
before, even if they are that common medium brown.  That's what I love, the
differences that make us special from the whole normal crowd.  Like being
gay, when you have half a chance.  And I know exactly what I'd do with you.
What I want to do, but what do you want?]

   [Amber,

   Good question.  Sorry, i can be a little slow to catch on sometimes. 
Who's teaching who here?  That's a joke.  I guess what i want to do is
this. This is great, sharing what it's like, or having someone to do that
with.  Fantasies, IDK there] <<<yer/<<ier maybe pencil was a mistake. 
[hard for me to understand even.  I don't have sexual fantasies, if that's
what you mean.  Romantic i guess is more like it.  I guess i have to get
that out of the way first.

   You?  Look at you, you're so cute, and sexual.  I haven't heard about
you, but just being around you, it's like i can feel it too.  You're like
so turned on it turns me on, a little.  I just don't know what to do with
it.  I tried, but i just don't know.]

   Amber {F Solo Hyme Saph Fant.}

   So yeah, she really decided to just dry up inside.  Or not, she's got to
be some kind of water sign.  I got that.  But why is she just swimming
instead of out there fighting?  With a body like that.  Her face?  All
girls have that in high-school, even the fat ones, it's the height of our
beauty.  Get it while it's hot!  But she's wasting it, letting that good
body just go numb, instead of enjoying it.

   I don't really like to swim, it's hard, and I can't breathe.  Her thing,
whatever.  But she had to be strong, and feel so hard.  Imagine standing
over someone like that, and looking down.  My blouse, come on you like
tits? I'll give you tits.  As much as I've got, I think they're growing
fast any way.  Just a little late out the gate is all.  Not fast enough for
me.

   Oh her hands must be stronger than this, I know they're bigger.  Busted
up nails, though, bite one, and run it over my nipple.  Yeah, that's
powerful!  Hers are so small, and light.  For a tits girl, I would think. I
caught a flash of nipple in the mirror, on her locker door.  Dark, almost
brown.  Didn't catch any shape to it, just a flash.  Her butt, she doesn't
have much hips.  What about hair, up front?  Didn't have any anywhere else,
but which would be hotter?  I have some, not a lot, but some of them are
even long.  Real fine, though, I bet hers were coarse.

   She's starting to believe me, about her beauty, and grace.  I can tell,
but I'm not sure how much I want to.  I mean, she'd be pretty intimidating
if she wasn't so shy.  Slouching over, and hiding her eyes in her bangs.  I
don't really like how it's long in front, and short in back, the way the
little point bristles under my finger, climbing on her lap, and taking my
bra off.  She didn't touch me, couldn't but I got so good, and hot.

   Got that underwear off.  I need to grow more, all ready.  I'm good, and
hot, though.  It's hard, but just finding it is too much, so I rub the
outside.  Or let her do it, a nice twat swat to wake it up.  Yeah, her big
strong hands on me, I need the mirror.  Yeah, if I got as tall as her.  I
won't, I don't have those hormones, I already have more boobs then her, so
what is she complaining about?  I can't write any more.

   Oh that was awesome!  I can barely breathe, and I'm still twitching
inside.  I wish I could just reach through the mirror, instead of being
held back, by it's cold hard surface.  I don't remember getting off like
that before, and I'd think I would.  I just wondered what she'd feel like
inside, and it washed over me.  Her lips slipping over my fingers, and the
surprising resistance.  I had to wash the blood off of my fingers, and dry
them, of course.  It was kind of wet, and wow, it felt good.  It hurt.

   Good.  I don't hurt myself, never even thought about it, but that was
Epic!  God, wow, I really need to do it again.  But I'm tired.

   [Amber,

   I'm sorry, it just hurt so much!  It washed off in the shower, I know
but I think I need to heal before I do anything else.  You've been with
other girls, I can tell.  The clit, that felt fantastic, and it's so hard
to even wright that word without laughing.  I finally stopped.  Its weird I
could never, well I never figured out how.  But it felt good, you made me
feel real good, and I want to make you feel it to, I just don't know how.
Or where, my family can't wait for me to get out of here.  I keep getting
all these hints about jobs, and colleges.  My brother thinks it's awesome,
which is annoying.  I guess if I skip practice, it's not really Practice
for the school, but my usual laps to stay in shape.  I think I know a
place, I really like it, I've been going there for years, it's beautiful.
If you like, or you know someplace else.  If you could teach me, I keep
trying, but it doesn't feel the same way as when you did it.  IDFK.]

   [Meghan,

   Outside?  It sounds like outside, which is great.  Just as long as
nobody can see us, or sneak up on us.  Is there water?  We can get nice and
clean, if we get dirty together.  I'm so exited!  I've been wanting someone
to play with for so long, and I'm glad it's you.

   You're so tall, and pretty, and I bet you're strong.  I know you're a
strong swimmer, though I doubt there's anywhere with enough water, and
privacy for us.  You think we could get a boat, and just take it out on the
lake?  Maybe find an island, with a sandy beach, and a cute little copse of
trees.

   Fantasies can also be about the future.  What can we do, where?  Maybe
even plan an adventure, I'd love to go on an adventure with you.  You want
to switch to [Chat]?]

   [Amber,

   Yeah, that sounds wonderful.  Just a romantic adventure for the two of
us.  Like Moonrise Kingdom, only with 2 girls.  IDK about the boat, or
anything about boats.  You're right about the chatting.]
[Amber: Yeah, this is great, what are you wearing?  (WAYW)]
[Meghan: What would you like to see on me?

   I mean, I was thinking about when you said "Model."]
[Amber: How about this one?]

   <Link>
[Meghan: Ooh, that's pretty!

   Is that a party dress?]

   [Coctail dress.  Yeah, I know.  I'm sure a man named them.  How about
these?]

   <IMG>

   [Those are pretty racey.  And I don't have boobs like that, but I guess
there pretty.]

   [They're.

   <IMG>

   This is what I'm wearing.]

   [OMG, is that you!?  Wow, that's wow.  I mean hot.  It's pretty hot.]

   [Types With 1 Hand.  (TW1H)]

   [Yeah.  Um, BRB.

   .]

   Amber {FF...}

   [Can you cum over?] I sat back, and thought about her, touching herself.
She didn't answer, probably ran off to the bathroom, or bedroom.  I wonder
if she left the image up?  Me in my underwear.  Where was the computer?  I
didn't see it downstairs.  I decided to rub them till I soaked through.  My
nicest ones, pink to bring out the highlights in my hair, the water-bra to
fill me out, and push me together.

   FAP!  Rub it in, and imagine her standing over me.  "Ooh, pussy," Tap,
"Bad Bad pussy!"

   BLINK!  [Meghan: Really!  Where?]

   Got off fast!
[Amber: I'll meet you in the yard.]
I grabbed my sweatpants, unfolded them, and put them on.  Jacket, okay.
Looked terrible, but easy to get into.  Left the window open, and climbed

down.  My own room, it's nice.

   I caught my breath, and was practically humping the cement trim by the
time she jogged up.  Out of breath.  I kissed her anyway, and didn't feel
around her throat.  I just love her long lean stripey neck.  "Come on," I
kissed it, then skipped to a run, and led her to the playground.  It felt
great to run, free, I don't know why I never snuck out before, but now it
was cool, and there was nobody out.  Except her, chasing me.  So much
faster, I couldn't keep ahead for long.

   One of those plastic poles, and platform, things.  The park-light shone
down between the slide, and the wall down on ground-level, beside the
stairs.  I giggled, and she caught up, I already had the zipper down.  "You
like 'em?"

   She panted, and reached inside.  Her fingers were cold.  But long, and
strong, I caught my breath first, and reached up to pull her head down. 
Just a smooch, I felt my lips, and turned my wrist around to hers.  Her
breath blew out her nose on them, but she nodded.  And looked in my eyes,
hers were almost black, but her stray hairs caught the yellow light.

   I wanted to feel her, and pulled her shirt out to touch inside it.  I
held my hands flat, felt her breathe.  Her hand in my hair, I kissed her
neck, and shoulder.  "HuhH!"

   Yeah, I know.  Maybe without all that running, but I had to get her some
nicer underwear.  Does she even own a bra, or any panties?  Cleanshaven, my
fingers shook in there, and she just hugged me.

   "Yes!" Breathless, I touched her, felt over the deeper softness to where
it split.  "Hm!" Thin soft smooth lips.

   "Mh!" She was really warming up.  Her tummy bounced like a slow motion
trampoline against my arms.  I rubbed them together, so she grunted, and
humped my fingers.  God, she must be super-sensitive.  I felt up, her
nipples were like pebbles.  Again, they're dark, tiny, and got real hard in
the shower.  "Oh, Amberh!" Wet too, I just felt around the bottom, then
moved back to run some of that around.  A little ruffle, and the tiny
point. "Nyh!" Unbeleiveably easy to get off, even I'm not that good.  Took
a couple minutes, maybe, my fingers didn't even get tired.

   [Amber,

   Oh that was so wonderful!  I just got myself off, again when i got home.
I'm sorry, i'm not very good at it yet, but I hope it was fun for you too.
Fantasies, now i get it!  Just seeing you, i love the picture, thanks. 
Good idea on the waterbra, it looks teriffic on you!  But what really got
me off, again, was after.  The first time, when you got in the slide.  I'll
never forget that smell, and i never, even saw one so close.  Well, maybe
mine in the hand mirror, but i couldn't get closer.  And, I don't know what
i was expecting, it to taste like.  I loved it, you taste wonderful, but I
didn't expect it to be so salty.

   I guess I never had anything to fantasize about.  Before you, the only
other girls i could see where the ones in gym, or swimming, and they don't
like me looking.  They know, and they say i'm as bad as the boys sometimes
about it.  And the faculty.  It's just so wrong, but that makes it harder
not to think about, and they're all full grown.  Some of them have kids,
and even the fat ones.  There's this one in Geometry.  She's not too fat,
and she has a really pretty face.  I like curves, i guess.  Straight lines
are stupid, and boring.  With corners because they can't just flow together
like curves.

   I love your curves, knowing they'll get bigger, and wider, and i'm still
so wet now.  IDK if i want to shower, but i better.  I don't want to be too
stinky in the morning.]

   [Meghan

   How the hell you beat me home is beyond me.  Okay, I walked, and maybe
wandered a little, but that was special.  I almost regret our first time,
it should have been more like that.  I think I love you, I think about you
all the time, and my grades are already starting to slip.  We need to
sleep, though.  We really do, you have Practice practice tomorrow, and I
don't want to rob you of a trophy.  I love you, though.  I really do.]

   Megan {F Solo Fant}

   "Amber!" Gosh, she's so overwhelming.  I never, got much chance to talk
to people.  They always push me away, or ran.  She's so weird, every time
she opens her mouth it's to say something inappropriate.  That's it, she
doesn't look dirty, but inside she's such a pervert.  Dr.  Santiago warned
me that there might be some possibly aggressive thoughts, and I almost want
to fight for her.  I'd kill for her, and I never even thought about killing
before.  How would I even?  Anything, it's so confusing.

   She says I'm pretty, and she's pretty convincing, but I know I'm a
freak. It's not the gay thing, that just what I like to think about, but I
got screwed over by the hormones.  Big lantern jaw, boney body, all these
edges, and corners poking out.  I need more boobs, these are too small, but
if I do more growing.  She's so lucky she's got so much growing to do, but
I get to see it.  If I can't have that, I can at least enjoy it, feel it
through her.  I think, I don't know how it works, but she's so sexy it
makes me feel sexy.

   But it just feels so wrong, under my fingers.  My little anthills, my
nipples are tiny, and too hard.  I can feel my ribs, and my tummy isn't
soft enough.  My belly button sticks out, and I have even harder edges on
the side.  I like her hair, down there.  I don't got none, just skin, and
bone, for drag.  And it itches in my suit when I let it grow out, a little,
it hurt when the curls started catching between it and my things,
especially kicking through the Crawl.  Okay breathe, Meg.  There's no
water, no need to hold your breath, but even her fingers feel better.  I
just wish I could make mine do what hers do.

   To her, she doesn't have my wrinkles.  It feels too rough, or my lips
do. She has nice puffy ones, like the hairy little hill in front of them,
and the pink folds peeking out, when they warm up.  I'm just so bad at it,
warming her up, I wish I could feel what she does, tell when I'm doing it
right, feel when I get to a good spot, like this.  It's so much easier like
this, but I'm learning.  I can learn, it's just slow sometimes.

   And I don't want to be too critical.  She doesn't know, how she hurts my
feelings, most of the time it's a compliment, and what's wrong with me? 
Why can't I just take a compliment.  But she's so young, she doesn't know
any better, and her.  She doesn't stick out like this, never.  Just don't
bump into it like that.  Push the skin up off it, and let her breathe.  Too
dry, I pull my finger, and rub it a little.  I have to put my heels beside
the edge of the mattress so I don't curl up.  Oh it's so nice, I wish I
could just grab my legs, and curl into it.  I tried, not even close, can't
barely smell myself.  She likes it, and I really like how she touches it,
but now I know how to do it, I'm getting better, and better.  See, this
isn't so tough.  I expected to be a lot less sensitive, but if I breathe,
yeah, get a good rythm, and feel how wet I am.  Yeah!  A couple more
fingers to pinch it with my thumb, and the tiny popping, in and out of the
little hood.  "Neah!"

   "Oh!," my nail is hard on the back, I didn't think to expect that. 
"hm!" just remembering her holding my hand, and the emery board, polishing
across the backs of them, one bye one...  And I'm hard, it's easier to find
if you know where to look, how to feel around, and.  That's the fantasy,
though.  Her, I can remember the smell, and the taste.  Not real strong,
you have to wait for it, or get enough of it on my tongue.  Licked my
fingers, and rubbed them in some more.  Yeah, get good, and wet, breathe. I
can almost feel it washing over my head, but warm, goose bumps on my
shoulders.  I gasp, and feel my chest.  The hard sensitive spot in the
middle of one of them.  Try not to moan too loud, but god I feel good!  My
forehead prickles, breaking a sweat, and I can her the wet sounds coming
out around my fingers.

   I held my breath, and twitched my fingertips as fast as I could.  Then I
stopped, felt it twitch back, and the breath came out.  Like "a a a a a
ah!" I gasped, and it flooded through me.  I sucked at my fingers too, and
pulled them out to taste them.  God, that was strong, or Powerful as Amber
would say.  Now, the question is, what do I want to do to her?

   Amber {CFNf}

   Ooh, she was aggressive!  Okay, I led her, backed into a corner, but she
followed!  Her hand up my skirt, hot breath on my cheek.  Fingertips on my
lips, I kissed them.  Quickly, without a sound.  She closed her eyes, and
felt around, without any expression.  Up my top, half out of my bra.  I
could just stand there, breathe, barely kiss her back.  Her mouth swabbed
mine out, rolling her tongue around, and around in there.  I sighed, and
felt her hips.  Like a violin, or a chello, I guess.  She's not that small.
Just through her thin plastic shorts, and the side strap of her panties. 
Felt like the blue ones I gave her.  Smaller hips than me, all ready?  I
dug them out.

   "Mh?" She felt inside.  Just inside, the outside.  Pulled her fingers
out, and sniffed them.  I giggled, the "Perv!" and she licked them to reach
back in.  She practiced, "Nh, hn!" 2 fingers, I could feel myself dragging
between them, her fingertips slipping up from the bottom.  I don't know why
I don't get as wet, as easy down there.  She had to use a lot of spit to
get her finger inside.  White painted cinder blocks, "Nh!" how romantic. 
Probably can't get away with sitting on her face out here.  "Inh!  Don't."
I put my hand on hers, and her fingertip popped back out.  "Not yet," I
kissed her neck.  I'd have to get a lot wetter than that!  I rubbed her
fingers into the hard spot.  "Mh, yeah.  Just keep.  Ohooh!" I pushed her
fingers harder.  Anyone could just walk bye, around from the science wing,
or the mixed social studies classes.

   My hands rubbed her back.  I didn't have anything to do with it, but
they found their way up the hourglass of her hips to the flat trapezoid up
toward her shoulders.  My nails caught on the teeshirt on the way back
down. She has bras, doesn't really need them, or care to wear them.  "Nh!"
I came, and it was like an earthquake.  It shook up from her fingers, and
she squeezed the side of my chest.  I wanted to scream, and bit it back to
a muffled moan.  "Heah," breathless, I pushed her fingers down, skirt
bunched around my arms.  I was wet enough now, and felt myself twitch
around her finger.  "Huh, yn, yeah, huh!" I caught my breath.  She laughed,
and ran off.  There was no way to catch her.

   She molested me!  She did, came out of nowhere, pushed me back,
practicly covered my mouth!  I don't understand those fantasies.  I like
them, they apparently get me off, but I can't understand them.  How can
rape be sexy?  Of course she didn't rape me, she just molested me, fully
clothed, but I just melted in her arms.  On her fingers, dripped all around
them like candle-wax.  She just licked off her finger, smiled and ran off.
Finally, some confidence!  "Oh, I like this!" I laughed.

   Meghan (NS}

   "I'm a butch, right?" God I was so hungry caffeteria turkey tasted good.
I wanted a burger, or that burger, and gravy thing that comes with mashed
potatoes.  She thought, sighed, and nodded seriously.  "Well, I don't know
how to act but, that, just then." I got her off!  Didn't even take as long
as I expected, the bell didn't even ring.

   "Yeah," she admitted, "You did great." See, I can learn.

   "But that was really risky," I almost wanted to whisper, but in the
corner of the lunchroom, it was too loud.

   "We should try something else."

   "You gonna eat that?" She shook her head, so I snagged her turkey.

   "Well, try everything eventually, but we can work ourselves up.  That
was really hot, though."

   "Yeah," I didn't have any bread for the gravy, and the stuffing is like
baked confetti, even with it, so I grabbed our trays, and dumped them.

   "You want me to make it up to you?" She looked down, from the clock.  I
laughed, and chased her across the soccer field.  Didn't catch her, little
grey hood, dishwater ginger.  She stopped, back to a tree, and I slowed. 
Her big green eyes wide, excited.  Chest heaving, a little more each day. I
don't remember anyone else growing up so fast.  Lets see, I reached into
her jacket.  Coming up on 3 months, starting to get chilly, her nipples
already hard.  "Uh!"

   She let her hands down, and leaned back.  Felt up my hips, sides, back.
She's been biting her nails again.  Already bigger than mine with her soft
pale nipples.  They didn't get hard, just puffed a little, and squished in
my fingertips.  "Adhedonia."

   "Hm?" she looked up, and nibbled her lip.  "That's what my doctor calls
it, she says some girls don't feel pleasure as much as others." She was so
insensitive.

   "You go to a shrink, too?"

   "Just her, right now.  She's keeping track of me, says I'm fairly well
adjusted, but if I develop any issues, it's good to diagnose them ASAP."
Well, she didn't say it like that, I'm a Navy brat, or my dad was.  "But
about me," I put her hand down my pants.  She's so much better than me. 
I'm learning, but I'm still not that good at it.  Or maybe it's because
she's doing it, right in front of me, and I can feel her, they're already
bigger than mine.  I don't have to imagine her.

   "You like that?" I closed my eyes, and nodded.  Bent down to kiss her,
feel her warm full lips, and taste her mouth.  It doesn't taste like much,
spit, I guess, but it's her mouth, and I love it.  "Yeah," she tapped my
cheek with her fingers, "You like that." I nodded.

   "Hm?" 2 fingers!  "Mhm." The problem with standing up like this is
they're down there, when I just want to bury my face in them, and devower
her.  She wants a wolf, I'll be the wolf.  I'd blow her house down.  But
this was supposed to be about me, and honestly, with all that buildup, I
expected to be done already.  I sniffed my fingers, her hair brushed my
cheek.  There was a little left.  My shoulder hurt, where she bit me.

   "What?" I laughed, little red riding hood bit the wolf!  That helped me
relax, get out of my head, and just feel it.  It wasn't long after that.

   Dr.  Magdalena Santiago {F Solo Ex/Vo Fant.}

   "She asked me if I ever watched someone," she looked down, "play with
herself." Flushed.  "I don't know, it was hot, and she got me off right
after, but it was weird.  I mean over the phone, I couldn't really see
through her underwear, and her fingers." I had thought getting a partner
would Improve her self-image!

   "You don't care for her underwear." I could tell by the way she said it.
She looked more confused than anything.  Not at all curious, though.

   "It gets in the way," she shrugged, "She's really," thought, "Proud of
it?  Panties, I guess.  Green ones.  Like light green.  A little ribbon
around the legs, and lace around the top." Sigh, "I have them, she gave
them to me."

   "Hm," I nodded, and stopped chewing on my glasses.  Now Ruth was
smoking, "Come again?" I shook my head.

   "It's weird, I like the water-bra, but she really, really likes her
underwear.  Is that some kind of fetish?"

   "Not a common one," for girls.  "You wouldn't describe her as butch?"
It's a tough concept to explain, to someone without a concept of it. 
Ironically enough, or possibly caused by her repressed self-image.  Barely
virilized in fact, no superficial uro/genital signs in her examinations,
slight hypertrophy for her age, from what I could tell without getting
invasive, or arousing her.  She's mostly just a tall awkward girl, but she
doesn't feel pretty.

   She shook her head, "But she's really aggressive, and she's got a foul
mouth.  She says they're just words, but I think they turn her on too."

   "But you were aroused, and attained release."

   "Well yeah, she turns me on." she sighed, "She can wear a toga, or
something, even in a poncho, it's not about clothes for me."

   "But you think it is for her?" she nodded, "and the dirty language?"

   "Mh hm?  It's really hard to turn her on.  It was for me too, at first,
but I really just had to learn how.  Now, huh.  Now it's her arousal,
that's holding us back."

   "Anhedonia.  Is that why you're mostly exploring her fantasies?" Sounds
like a lot of role-play.

   "Well," she thought, "I think it's because I don't need them.  She says
it's not because I'm, so," She stops when she doesn't know how to finish
thoughts, out loud.  Doesn't cover them with uh, or what-I-means.  "All I
really need is her, and she keeps doing things that turn me off.  Like when
she hits herself, down there."

   "Hits herself how?"

   "Well it's not hard.  Just with her fingers like," she taps them on the
desk.  All 4, flat.  "It doesn't feel good, when she did it to me, but she
likes." Take a breath, "She wants me to do it to." Or too..?  Not really
the girl to ask about that.

   "It sounds like she has some deep seated sexual," and plausibly gender,
"Issues." I believe they may stem from some sort of abuse.  "Do you think
you could bring her to the next Group?" We already need to get a larger
venue, but their needs are far more important than logistic issues.

   "She doesn't trust doctors, or therapists."

   "Mhm?" noted.  "For moral support, she knows about the meetings?" She
nods, "Well then tell her you need her here, for you." If that works, "It's
not a lie."

   Larry {MFfTti...  Group}

   "I'm not much of a Therapy girl." She shrugged.  She looked perfect, not
Catholic perfect, but mainstream.

   "It's all right," Maud looked in, "This is just a place to open up, with
people who understand."

   Ruth, and Maud.  "Hm!" Okay, processing...

   "I don't know what's wrong.  I don't feel, I guess I haven't figured out
what turns me on.  I'm only 15, and I'm having trouble with my feelings."
She held the new girl, Meghan's hand.  Must be her fourth meeting?  Brought
her along.  "We're learning," she picked it up, and kissed it, rubbed the
spot.

   Just gay, teenagers apparently, "But I'm a cheerleader!" Basketball, I
think.  "She's my favorite athlete." She hugged her shoulders.  No frame of
reference on anything like that, Ruth would probably relate.

   "Are you guys closeted?" I covered my mouth on reflex.  Neither of them
got mad, but I think Meghan caught it.  Right, self conscious.  Gawky,
clumbsy, too big.  Okay, I can relate some.

   "What about you?" Amber looked interested.

   "I'm an orphan, but grew up Catholic.  Sheltered until I was molested by
a homeless man, and Ruth." I waved, "Well, she saved me.  We discovered I
was really a boy inside, and we found Dr.  Maud." Now we live together. 
Weird family, but I'm not really a Family kind of guy.  "'Extended Family,'
~Ruth says.  'First it was gay, then gay, and lesbian, eventually got to
LBGT...  It goes on for inclusion.' I'm queer, that about covers everyone
for me except for Normal, whatever that is'." Shrug.

   "What was your name," Amber, "Before?"

   "Gloria." Always hated that name.

   "Oh," she laughed.  "So you're."

   "In transition, asexual, still mostly a virgin?" She rubbed her lip self
consciously, and I felt my mustache.  Well, as much as I can grow.  She got
up, wandered over toward the bathrooms.  I dropped Curtis' hand.  "Are you
all right?"

   "What's it like?"

   I thought back, "Transition?  Well I'm not there yet."

   "No," she rolls her eyes, "What's it feel like, being?"

   "Transgender?  I don't know what it doesn't feel like.  I didn't even
realize, because I was only around girls as a child so I had no frame of
reference." I'm used to all of the questions.

   "But you felt weird, not like any of them?"

   "There literally are no words." I thought, "But yeah.  Not like the
other girls."

   "What have you, I mean, did you get any,"

   "Surgery?" I guessed.  "Not yet, I don't know if I'm operable, but I'll
see what they get in the catalog." She shook her head, "There's not very
much available, for guys like us, so we make do.  I'm on hormones, they
help."

   "Like a drug?"

   "Well, IDK about drugs, but I didn't grow all that much, before I got
diagnosed.  So, I got to make sure it was the right growth."

   "How old are you?"

   "Nineteen?" I nodded, "It kind of stunted my growth, switching gears
like that."

   "And how do you get diagnosed?"

   I pointed, "Maud." The best around.  "You smoke?"

   She shook her head, "I like it, but I don't." She followed me up.

   "So, you think you might feel," what's the most inclusive?  "Gender
Disphoric?"

   "I know I'm bisexual.  Not like those bi-curious girls, and their
boyfriends, but I've been there.  IDK," she abbreviated, "I've wondered if
maybe there was a third option?"

   "And do you feel more masculine," even in that over-feminized body?

   "Especially when I'm mad."

   "Well that sounds like a psychopath, but the masculine doesn't have to
be so negative." Without denial.  "Hm," what're the odds?

   "Hm?"

   "Now don't start mimicing me," I finally got that one.  "Maud's got to
run some tests, to rule out other possibilities.  Anything from minor
intersex, like Megan, or."

   "What's an intersex?"

   "Oh, hormone imbalance, partial virilization." She'd know better than me
how much.

   "Her," she tried to remember.  "Congenital."

   "Adrenal Hyperplasia." I looked it up, it was interesting.  "Her adrenal
glands, produced some androgens, I don't remember which one.  It's not
testosterone."

   "I'll take it," she laughed.

   "Well, they won't give you hormones until you're diagnosed," Proper.

   Amber {CfNt Mole}

   He tried to turn back for the door, flipped off his light.  "So, what
did they do to your," I reached out for him, and he backed up.  I stepped
around, so he had nothing to run against but back to the rolling trashcans,
or a climb up to the roots of some tree.  "It's okay, if you show me?"

   He sighed, and leaned back, pulled out his shirt, and started
unbuttoning it.  Loosened his tie.  It was pretty exciting, I haven't seen
a girl shemale before, and the boys were just in pictures, or video.  I
guess there's an exception to Rule 34 after all.  Childporn, almost.  She
looks like a boy, maybe 12, except for that lip fuzz.  "You mind?" I
reached up, and felt it, my bare lip with my other hand.  His hands fell,
so I spread opened his shirt, and stepped back to move my shadow out of the
way.  Most of it came through the tree-branches, but it wasn't that cold
yet.  Wonder how much longer the therapy would last.

   "Oh?" The nipples were wrong, too puffy, and nowhere near the corners of
his chest.  That chest, still kind of skinny, and boney, was that a hair?
Right on the edge of a nipple, and getting long, too.  I felt a couple
more, shorter, and others just growing out.  On both sides.  "Do you get
anything down there?" I looked down.  His pants were closed, and just hung
straight down to his feet.  "Uh!" I had to help him out of them, or at
least get them open to see them.  There was nothing to catch them on the
bottom, boxer briefs.  What is it with people, and ugly shorts?

   "Does it," I held it up on my finger.  "Get."

   He nodded, "It can," eyes closed.  He moved his hands, and brought the
flaps of his pants together.

   Meghan had to come and get me in the ladies room.  Now, why didn't I
think of that?  Because I didn't see the catalog, or know it was an option.
It was a clit, but it stuck out even more then Meghan's.  Little Mega. 
Maybe 2 fingertips when it was turned on.  I wonder if she can fuck with
that, she's a grower, not a shower like Meg's?  Yeah, right, but a girl can
dream.  He's strong, stronger then me, I couldn't hold his hands down, and
he finally pushed me back.  Maybe doesn't know his own strength, running
scared, back to the dumpsters.

   But if I could get that, maybe it would be enough, with some more
muscle. I'm already taller than him.  It's really hot, that weird mix like
you threw a boy and girl in a blender.  Very Emo, pretty, young looking,
that catapillar fuzz on his lip.  He even smelled, weird.  Not quite girly,
or manly.  Definitely those two, I remember it when I had one of each. 
Getting hairy, though.  I used my thumb, yeah, if I could just get this
much.  I made a fist, and beat off as fast as I could, and fingered my
little prick until she came, and found me.

   What did he say, Gender Dysphoric?  I'll have to look it up if I'm going
to effect it.  Pretty easy with him there as an example.  Just get
diagnosed, for some hormones, and do some growing.

   Maud {Tf NS MC}

   I picked up my glasses, and put them on.  "Have a seat." Amber, and if
ever there was a more femmy little girl, I hadn't met her.  Maybe Shirely
Temple, way back when, but downright cute, cuter than Gloria.  She put her
leg up, across her knee in pants.  Had she been studying?  That's the first
masculine thing I'd seen, but it looked practiced.  "So what's the
problem?"

   "I talked to Larry last night," she yawned, "Then I couldn't sleep.  I
never thought of anything like that before, and you know, it all kinda
makes sense now."

   "Mhm?" let her go on.  Something bothered me, in the back of my mind,
but it's better to pick away at such intuition, instead of ignore it.

   "Huh!" Kind of a deep sigh, "I don't, IDK, I never, felt like anyone
else.  I feel like I'm surrounded by all these weird people, and their
sexism, well a lot of it never made any sense.  Like dresses, why do girls
wear them?  How come boys don't, or can't?  It's not like pants grow on
trees, we created dresses for girls, and pants for boys, and girls, but it
can't just be all about pissing.  And colors, and how to dress, and how to
act."

   "You learned to act female," obviously.  If it was an act, it was a good
one.  Less masculine than even Gloria, with her upbringing.

   "I was told, pretty much my whole life I was rewarded for being girly,
and punished for anything else." That's a bit exaggerated, but perhaps some
persecution complex, or paranoia?  Not uncommon, for certain disorders. 
"But why is there a Female act, and a Male one?  My brother, he played with
me, because it was just us, and the folks.  I like guns, and knives, and
tanks, and jets and stuff.  You should see my room, there's no toys lying
around, because all my toys are packed up in their box.  I never got them
out." She shrugged, "My parents stopped buying me them.  I still get pink
bikes."

   "You don't like pink?"

   "Huh," she rolls her eyes, "I don't care about pink.  It's a, I don't
know, an Underwear color.  It looks horrible on me, like clothes, but when
I'm turned on."

   "Meghan mentioned some anhedonia."

   "That's about pleasure, right?" She shook her head.

   I nod, "It presents differently, but it may be either an inability to
process pleasure, some mental block that displaces it to something
inappropriate, like certain fetishes, or in extreme cases Paraphillic to
the degree that some component is needed for arousal, or release. 
Anhedonia is just the inability to feel pleasure, but not the only
diagnostic possibility, at this point." And that sent up the warning in the
back of my mind.  Explaining it to someone sometimes help bring the thought
out, one of these has to be the truth, though some overlap is also
possible.

   She thought a moment, then a couple more...  "Maybe that median one." If
she Means Median, instead of Mode.  Highschool math.  "I get these
fantasies, and some of them are hot, and some of them not, but that changes
up depending on my mood.

   "What kind of fantasies?"

   "Where do I start?  Sometimes it's like looking through the catalog,
like Larry said." Actually, I found that analogy works best for him.  He's
a shopper.  "But I can't make up my mind!  Sometimes it doesn't work, or
maybe I give up before I find the right one." I checked her records.  Not
even a gynecologist.  Last medical professional she'd seen was an
orthodontist, several years ago.  Looked to be in pretty healthy shape,
though.

   "Any of them violent?"

   "What?" She looked at my face.  Lightbulb, !  She looked away.

   "What kind of violent fantasies?"

   "You mean like," she's flushed, "Rape?" Embarrassment, or arousal?  She
doesn't strike me as a shame kind of girl.  No, that's what's been
bothering me so far, she looks like a teeny bopper, it even comes off a bit
overdone, she tries too hard.  But she presents more like some kind of a
Psychopath.

   "How do you feel about them?"

   "You mean besides horny?"

   "I mean afterwards.  Once you get your emotional release, how do you
feel remembering them?"

   "Hm!" A sigh.  Not a good sigh.  "I don't know.  Huh, I don't really
know how to describe my feelings." Or have them.  She's not anhedonic,
she's Apathic.  She might learn to fake empathy, watching people, studying
them to see how to act.  But inside, she's shameless, remorseless.

   I fold up my notes.  "I'm sorry, while there may be some underlying
Gender Disphoria," and there's no Way I'm giving her Androgens.  Steroids
are named after Androgens, Aldosterone, Testosterone...  They would only
make her stronger, and more aggressive.  "I'm also picking up on some deep
seated issues that would have to be dealt with first."

   I'll have to think about even sharing the diagnosis.  She's been reading
a lot, but still hasn't identified the source of her problems.  And if she
does, she may evolve into a more self-aware Sociopath, which can be
extremely dangerous.  I feel comfortable lying to her, because she has no
problem, whatsoever with lying to me, and the whole world.  A merciless
personality, which means the Golden Rule, ruthlessly applied.  Otherwise,
they figure out how to walk all over you.

   "What about underwear?"

   "Hh?" She nods.  Yes, that's arousal.

   "Your girlfriend, mentioned that.  It's not a betrayal, your
relationship is a big part of her developing a worldview.  She's still
developing her fantasy, and having trouble telling it apart from yours'. 
So, we had to discuss those aspects of your relationship." I held up my
hand, "Now, I know how you feel about doctors, I get that, but for
practical reasons if you want to have your say, you have to come in and
actually say it.  Otherwise, I can only deal with her side of it." You have
to put it their language, once you narrow down their symbolic set.  "Also,
I'll have to share some of my findings with her, with your permission of
course, so she better knows how to treat you." She gets that too, but also
I mean to lower her risk, brace herself for the probably inevitable, and
eventually decide how long she wants to go through with it.  "Do you
understand Emotional Abuse?"

   "No," she lies.  It helps when it's a yes, or no, so the truth is simple
by process of elimination.

   "But you didn't question Emotional Release."

   "I've heard the term.  I like crime dramas, like Law & Order," SVU.  She
sighs, and looks up.  Her eyes switch back, and forth, between processing
her thoughts, and thinking up how to word the lies.  "I guess it's like an
Orgasm, only without touching myself, or having sex." I'm not some kind of
Human Lie Detector, I don't believe in such a thing outside of theme TV
shows.  Some people are better at covering it than others, and she
apparently hasn't figured out what she looks like, when she's lying.

   Utterly convincing, though.  Probably because nobody else knows how to
pick up on it, at her age, and social situation.  It's notable how badly
trained teachers, and school councilors are.  Nobody thinks to suspect the
cute little girl, she doesn't look anything like the archetypic monster, so
they probably bury the nagging creepiness.  Actually surprising someone
else hadn't picked up on it.

   "Is that what it feels like," I prompted her, "A mental orgasm?"

   "Yeah, kind of," she bites something back, "Or right after I get off, in
the normal way.  It's the same kind of headrush.  Yeah, that's it.  I think
I'll call it a headrush." Wrye smile, covering an inside joke, and not
expecting me to get it.  Right out there, testing me, problems with
Authority.

   So, how do I handle her?  "Power Trip." There, I said it, and she looked
caught redhanded.  Never considered the possibility that I'd pick up on it.
Which is a pretty reliable way to control a Malignant Narcissist.  "Is that
a consistent component of your arousal, or emotional release?"

   "Huh," all right, you got me.  "I don't have to be the abuser. 
Sometimes it's fun playing the victim." I flipped back a page, underlined
[_Victim_Rehearsal_] and let it drop immediately.  "I like it, it's fun! 
What's that?" She nodded her head at my notes.

   "Some internal notes, possible therapies, once we get to a diagnosis."

   "I never heard of Victim Rehearsal." I sighed, and took off my glasses.
I failed at poker the first few times too.

   "How does that fantasy work with you, and Meghan?"

   "Depends on who's feeling receptive," she shrugs.  Asking about her
family just prompts a lie, and she's aware of it.  Drops misleading hints
without prompting.  So, fantasy it is.  I look up, and nod, [What kind of
abuse?] Let it shew on my face.  "She's got problems with initiating
anything.  She stands back, lets it happen, or not because she hates
herself." And she loves that.  "So, either I have to go in, or she has to
play a role with that kind of confidence." Another lie, one she's told her
often enough to count as rehearsal.

   "Okay, what about your fantasy?" I'd gotten hers.  "Or fantasies?"

   "Aggressively, I like to feel attractive.  So, it's more the
girl-of-your-dreams, buy her a drink, or ride in like prince charming to
take her away, from all this." Narcissism, got that.  She's projecting,
with no way to tell how someone else actually feels, she defaults to ideal
Archetypes.  "Receptively, I like it when she molests me.  Not that I was,
ever." Well that sure narrows it down!

   A narcissist can't admit to being the victim, even to themselves.  It
threatens their worldview, which revolves around them.  Dialing it in... 
"As long as it's a fantasy." Just a fantasy, it's not real.  She nods.

   "I like to be the man.  I'm not really cut out for it, but I guess that
makes it." She shrugs, "Somehow hotter."

   "Yet you fetishize underwear." I put on my glasses.  [Transvestite?]

   She reads it, backwards, and stretched across the lenses.  I print it,
quite legibly.

   "Huh!" she thinks, "Is that possible for a Transexual?"

   "Transexualist," I'm more specific.  "For now, I believe you may be more
attracted to the idea of Transgender." Barring intersex.  Glasses up, I
look blurrily under them and make a note to [Ask Meghan about Inguinal
Teste Smears?]

   "I like her masculinity." sincere nod, "I kind of wish for more
hormones, or development that way." Strength, Power, Envy.

   "Which reminds me," I chew on a glasses arm.  She likes that.  "Uhm, I
talked to Larry.  I must say that was borderline abusive, he's pretty
traumatized." Granted, a lot of that stemmed from the repressed abuse.

   "I didn't do that." Think up a lie, "I mean it didn't feel like me.  I
barely remember doing it." Sexual impulse.

   "Do you ever black out?"

   "Not that I know of," she puts on a smile to tell me that's a joke. 
Certainly not a lie, or anything.

   "Yes?" I pick up the phone.  "Mhm?" Put on my glasses.  "I'm sorry but
my next appointment is here." I drop her file, and my notes in the locking
drawer.  "Uhm, if you think," give her the power, "You'd like to come talk
again, you can set up an appointment on the way out." Passive-Aggressive,
might work, she didn't pick up on it.

   I called Hubert before switching hats for the next patient.

   Hubert {Mf PowAss Prof}

   "Amber, right?" Look at her hair, and smile.  "I heard about you, in
group."

   "And you thought you'd take advantage of it?" She just looks, and acts
dumb, but when she talks about it.

   I nod to the Rules: "See that one?" Point it out, "There's a reason Maud
calls it the Hubert rule." Same reason Charley never makes it.  Or she
doesn't fly him in.  She's starting to understand it, Analytically.  "I
used to go out with Larry." I shrug, nonchalantly.

   I'd been briefed.  She doesn't get it, and it drives her nuts, but
probably can't face the fact that I succeeded where she failed.  I can turn
it off, but I can turn it back on again if I need to.  And she makes it so
easy, looks...  Okay, I'm not all about the looks any more, but she uses
it.

   As a psychopathic emotional abuser.  Child mollestor, we're pretty sure.
Unfortunately only her older brother, and dolls as potential outlets.  Oh,
and herself, auto-erotic cooldown between victims, cycle of Paranoid
Delusions of Grandeur.  Second year, already passed Psyche 101.  Going for
Profiler.  Which doesn't qualify me to wipe someone else's ass, but I don't
even need Empathy, I remember.  Around nineteen I was pretty fucking
twisted in my fantasy land.

   "You drink?" She followed me up, and out of the church.  I grabbed the
stash from behind Ruth's seat, safest place around, honestly, broke her off
a beer.  "Let's just skip past who's the victim here.  I know what you are,
better'n you do," It took forever to explain to Maud so she didn't have to
fly out, or get Charley on the phone.  At this point, she's studying us.

   "So what's this about?' she cuts to the chase.

   "This is about figuring yourself out, and managing your behavior down
below the level of a Disorder.  We have a personality," or similar ones,
"Which predisposes us to illegal, and abusive behavior."

   "I'm not abusive." Getting angry.

   "And denial don't make it any easier." I sigh, "Control yourself." I
held up a finger, "First, and foremost.  You can't really control anyone
else without it."

   "Shows what you know." She thinks, "You're too young to be a doctor,
unless you're a genius or something."

   "I said we," I shook my head, and paused to give her a chance.  "I'm
speaking from Experience.  I went through the Anti-social phase.  Hormones,
you didn't get them, but some guys grow out of it, others get stuck, and
devolve into compulsive wretches." Negative imagery.  "Because they don't
learn to control it," I'm not giving her Organization, with her plantacy
set.  "That's the difference between your personality, and disorder."

   "It's not about sex, it's about control." Got it.

   "No," I sigh, "It's supposed to be about sex, so you have to Manage
yourself.  Sure, spontanaety is great, but then you don't know what you're
capable of.  The prognosis down that path is prison, or if you're lucky a
ward before you even start to see your full potential."

   "Where're we going?" She stops, and looks around.

   "Nowhere," shrug, "For a walk." A car drives by.  "It helps me think." I
got out my smokes, handed her one first.

   "Isn't there someplace more, private?" She grins.

   "Impulse control.  How much have you thought about what you'd do there?"

   "IDK," she shrugs, "Depends on where we go." Okay, she's capable of some
organized thought.  Or intent, beforehand.

   "Hope you don't kill anyone." Take a drag, and a sip.  "As long as
you're that impulsive, and aggressive, you're looking at the county hotel,
then the state pen, and possibly death row.  Does that sound like fun?" She
takes a sip.  "Rhetorical anyway.  Look, you're not a Man, man?" Shake my
head, "You don't have the power, status, or legal advantage of that
Privilege.  Instead, you have the hands you're dealt.  Beauty, being
under-estimated, and some physical weakness." I held my hand up, "Denial
won't change that."

   Amber {Mf...}

   "So you're what?" I don't have a handle on this potential relationship,
so I can't decide.  Perks, he looks good, and seems to know what he's
talking about.  In all those technical terms.  On the downside:

   Fear.

   You ever get that nightmare feeling creeping up the back of my skull?  I
like that, that's what scares me.  I don't want to be the victim.  He's not
playing, got that.  Process of elimination.

   "Huh, I can be a role model.  I made it through this," he climbed down,
and picked up my can.  "So I might be able to keep you out of jail.  Or
learn to avoid it.  We're young, we can go anywhere, I'd like to go
anywhere else." I climbed down to his level, but stood back.  I wondered
how fast he was.  He turned back, and walked under the bridge.  I see what
he's doing there, human predator 101.  Beer, someplace private.  Charm. 
And I even look the part.

   "So what's this?" I stop just outside the light.

   "For emotional release." He grinned.  I shrugged, and ducked under the
cement on the top.  Put my hand up, on the ceiling, felt the sharp edges of
bubbles.  Meghan's pretty strong.  He's not as pretty, but he's got to be
stronger.  He didn't get up.

   "Okay?" I slipped my back down the wall.  Dirty, but not filthy, mostly
sand.  Piss smell further back.

   "You ever just watch someone masturbate?" I shook my head.  "Okay, when
you did," nope, can't lie to him.  "I'm sure you noticed everyone does it
different, or has their own style, right?" I nodded.  "Well, it shows them
how you like to please yourself, what turns you on, and how to pleasure
you."

   "Me?" Okay, he shouldn't have to say it 3 times!

   He nodded, "You're the anhedonic nymphomaniac.  I'm a hedonist, you want
to talk about it, or get off?" Okay, I'm horny.  He noticed, shouldn't be a
surprise for me.  It's kind of cold, though, and there's still this nagging
fear.

   "Hnnn," I sigh through my nose, "I don't know," and scoot out on the
little hill of sand in the corner.  "How?"

   "Exactly," he spread his hands, "This is how you figure that out."

   "I tried," I unbuttoned my jeans.  "I still haven't found it."

   "Right?" he laughs, "Which tells you to look someplace else.  I can't
trust your rendition of your childhood, but you know it, right?  So, nobody
else can do this for you.  Unless you want to talk about it."

   "Not really." Can't take them off.  As dirty as it would be to drag my
cracks through coarse sand, honestly my pain tolerance when I'm turned on
is higher than the annoyance, or being uncomfortable later on.  No thanks.
"Do you have to see it?" He shook his head, got up on his knees, and
crawled over.  He was doing that on purpose!  Clever!

   His fingers felt over my panties, and the back of my fingers.  "Go on,"
he sat on his hip.  He smelled good, so I closed my eyes.  "Forget the
fantasies, those were distractions." He whispered to me.  'What do I want?'

   "How should I know?" I looked at him.

   "You should ask yourself." He shook his head.  "This isn't hypnosis, I'm
not going to ask you anything I need for me, but I'll talk you through the
thought process.  So close your eyes."

   "Mhkay?"

   "Don't try to breathe, think about it, just clear your mind first.  You
ever meditate before?"

   Have I?  I shook my head, "Sometimes, I think when I'm trying to sleep."

   "Right, like that, only sleep isn't the goal.  Good, like that, now
meditate about people first.  Don't get all emotional," I feel his fingers
on my eyebrows, "Relax, now.  Just feel." He gently pulls my fingers out,
"Like this?  Yeah, just feel, don't start thinking yet, and try to imagine
someone you don't hate." Myself, of course.  "Meghan?" I don't want to hurt
her, but sometimes she just makes me so mad.  She can be so stupid
sometimes!  "D'you mind?" He felt lower, and when did he wet his fingers?
"Just feel, don't get back in your head again."

   Big hands, everything was bigger than Meghan, but the edges of my
panties bit in between my butt, and my thighs.  "I can't help it!" his
fingers aren't rough, his nails are polished back so far they don't have an
edge, like Meghan's.

   "Mhm?" He pulls them out to wet higher up.  Not his first time! 
Obviously.  Kind of like a lesbian, really, or a girl.

   "Transexual." I think, "Don't care if it's boygirl, or girlboy, but..."
Now I'm doing it.  "Something different, boys or girls aren't quite right."

   "Good,"

   "Nh!  Hnnnnn."

   "Well, Larry's out, you're so not his type.  He's gay, so he's mostly
just disgusted by girls, now.  He hated himself, with all that negative
reinforcement heaped on her growing up."

   "What was she like?"

   "I didn't know her back then, well I met her before he started coming
out, physically.  Very feminine in fact, he never had any male role-models.
Until Charley, of course."

   Yes, I'd heard the story.  Molested by a homeless guy.  "Nhn?" Smell
stale piss.  Just feeling is easy when it feels like this.  I can only
imagine what Charley looked like, or Larry did, as a schoolgirl.  Uniform
dress.

   "There, good." he took my hand.  "You mind?" Put it in front of his
pants.

   "Oh," I looked down, felt it.  "Nice."

   He chuckled, "I'm flattered," but saw I wasn't lying, to make him feel
large.  No need.  "I need release too.  That's another way you can tell
it's not abuse.  If it's not sharing, or biased so it's all good for one,
and bad for the other, then you know you're making a Victim." Love that
word!  "That's a bad thing.  Victims tell the cops, even if they find the
body, you can't get rid of all the evidence, and that's a lot of work." He
guessed.  "You know the opposite of a Sadist?"

   "A masochist?"

   "Trick question.  Sadism is 2 things.  Causing pain, and getting
pleasure out of it in return.  Shadenfreuda.  Masochism is getting pleasure
out of being hurt, but that's not the only thing you can turn around.  I
love giving pleasure, have you ever gotten emotional release just from
getting someone off?"

   "Meghan." It can be so hard, sometimes.

   "Well, I got off on that, finally." He chuckled.  "That's Hedonism,
then, there's no reason to persecute you, or turn against you.  However you
think it in your head, if you just play with their feelings to get what you
want, you break their heart when you leave them.  Promise forever, for one
night.  You can fake empathy, but they can feel the lack of it, eventually.
It hurts them.  I don't understand that part any better than you, but I
know it.  If you don't hurt them, then it's, uh!" He twitches, and runs
down my fingers.  "Hn hH!" His fingers twitched, and I twitched around
them.

   "Hh!" not the most powerful orgasm ever, but that meant I could feel the
release quicker.  I relaxed, tried not to slip unconscious, even though I
never did.  "UhH!" I sat up, "Whew, I.  What did you just get off on?" It
sounded so dry, and sterile the way he was talking.  Now he licks his
fingers.

   "Mm?  Uh sorry, the power trip.  You know that, right?  Yeah, well, that
was getting into Mind Control, which can be a pretty intense fantasy."

   "What's that?" Well, I'm guessing Mind Control, just like he said. 
"Like?"

   "The ultimate power-trip," he sighs, and rolls around to the bar. 
"Emotions are easy to manipulate, once you control your own.  You can't
really control someone else, but you can make suggestions.  Especially if
they're vulnerable." He looks over, pulls out two smokes, and lights them
for us.

   "Thanks."

   "The mind is the big-leagues.  If you can learn to hack it you can
potentially predict behavior, and.  It's not like 'Look into my eyes'!" he
held up a claw hand, but they did look scary, "Dracula mesmorizing... 
You're at a major disadvantage, because it's their head, but it's
fascinating in there." He tapped my temple with the filter.

   "Oh yeah?" I challenged him.

   "I know you.  I was you, in a different body.  Not this one, I had to do
some work."

   "It worked fine," I rubbed his shirt.

   Curls rolled under there I could feel them.  "You mind?"

   "Sorry," I held back.

   "No," he shook his head Duh, "That's your line.  Ask don't assume."

   "Oh," I reached for the bottom of his shirt, "You mind?"

   "Not at all." He sighed.  Hairy tummy too, rippley.  "Your mind..." he
continued, and I rubbed his arm.  Up under the sleeve, bicep, and triceps.
I kind-of tuned him out I guess, but if it's real important, I guess he'll
repeat it, 3 times.

   Amber {TF Mole Cons}

   "Hey," I looked over, "You busy?" Now what are you doing back there?

   "Larry?" Camoflage, looks good on him.  "Never!" He laughed, "You stuck
back there?"

   "No," He reached up, "Don't climb over, just." He pulled my hand down,
"Can you reach through the bars?"

   "What for?" I didn't see any handcuffs.  Both hands, empty.  Well, he
had my wrist, and "Oh!" Ripstop!

   "You just scared me before." She looked down.  Girl in a cage, with a
cute little mustache, and emo-bangs.

   "Huhahah!" I felt around, through them.  "Fucking button fly!"

   "Here," she helped.  I sniffed, it smelled like pee.  Fresh pee.  "This
is how we did it, me, and Charley." Not Charley, and I?  She doesn't never
talk like that.  "Through the fence, so he didn't have to control himself.
He couldn't get me." It's hard!  And cute, I don't say it, but I think
about it.

   Fucking stupid, god damned.  Yeah, "God, damn!"

   "I know, right?" She grins up exitedly.  "No," she pushed her hand out
of the way.  "Like this." I bend down for a closer look, and damn if that's
not the most masculine pussy I've ever seen.  And smelled, it's still, well
you know what it is, but I could almost smell the hormones.

   "May I?" I reached through, and took his narrow little hips.  Sniffed,
and got down on my knees to slip my chin through.  "Nhmg!" Mwalm!  "Mh?" I
looked back, and up.  "You're a virgin?" She just looked at me, "Of course
you are!" It's all about her, or it should be.  How am I going to learn to
get him off, in the second helping without a frame of reverence?  She kept
pulling at it, with her fingertips, and the end of her thumb.  "I don't
really like," he put his hand down, "Cunnilingus," and covered her other
mouth.

   "You mind," I look back down, "If I suck it?"

   "No, that's great," she rubbed my hair.  "Nh, yeah!" Standing over me.
Okay, Huey let it slip out.  I try to imagine what Maud must look like. 
Not that he'd seen her, so not her type, but then that means neither am I.
He knew, though, there's still secrets in our relationship.

   And mystery, she was born a boy, nothing more than that.  And she's
asexual, except apparently with Ruth.  That's even worse than an, or
adhedonic.  I'm not real sure which I am.  But I'm learning, and there's
just barely enough to get a short stroke, in my lips.  It keeps slipping
out if I literally try to suck, but if I hold his hips still.  It's so hard
to think him with my chin bumping against her lips.

   Short stroke means high revs, it's just tricky to do with just your
lips, so I roll them in around my teeth, and try it with just my head.  "Oh
yeah," he helps with his hands in my curls.  "Nh, yeah!" Bucks a little
until it slips out, so I have to catch it again.  I pinch it between my
fingers, and kiss the thick puff in front.

   It feels kind of hard, not like muscle, bone, or even cock, but, erect?
On her shaved bone, I licked around it like a scrotum.  I got the rhythm,
so I picked it up, and licked her navel.  She giggled, and twitched in my
fingers.  Ruth loves that, I wonder if they'd done anything together?  So I
licked it out, but she finished quickly.  Not the 15 second twitch of a
male, but shorter than I expected.

   I hope it was intense.  She ran off, and I climbed over.  I didn't
notice before, but there's a bit of a blind spot back here, and next to no
traffic this time of afternoon.  How did he even know I would walk back
this way?  Did he stalk me?  "Yeah," I got down, and pulled my pants down.
I had to pee, too, but god I was horny.  Maybe try that fetish next.  It's
not that filthy.  My crotch sopped into me, around my fingers.  I had to
get in there, pull them aside, and finally down, over my knees.  I bent
down, and sniffed them.  Fresh piss, it's not that bad.

   Once an instance, twice a coincidence, 3 times a pattern.  So, don't
make it a pattern, try everything, "Within reason." I can imagine her
finger.  Just don't ride that grove into a rut.  Ruth had to explain that
one, records.  Front, or back?  I have 2 thumbs, anal.  Didn't bring any
lube.

   All right, faggot, you got me.  2 guys, now that's fucking hot.  So beat
off from behind, bend over.  "Nh, Yeah!" Hold my clit down so I can catch
it with my knuckle.  "Uh!" It hurt, so good, so I pulled out for a quick
spot, and made the firecracker again.  "Ah fuck!"

   "Amber?" I stopped, holding my breath.  "What're you doing back there?"

   "Hubert?" I peeked out.  "Oh good."

   "You want a hand with that?"

   "Or two," I nodded, getting up.  "No," I reach up, and stop him, "Stay
back there." It'd reach through.

   Maud {TMF NS Prof.}

   "So doctor," I sat down, "What's wrong with our daughter?"

   Sigh, "There's a lot of dry clinical terms," complex enough without
having to translate it to lay terms.  "In brief, she's an opportunistic
sexual predator.  It seems to be motivated by hatred, displaced to everyone
else, to enhance her self image." Even dumber down.  "She's like a Child
Molestor, but isn't limited to that.  It's not about attraction, age, nor
even sex, but vulnerability.  It makes her impulsively exploit that
vulnerability.  That girl she babysat, was such an irresistible
opportunity."

   The shame is under-reporting.  "When a girl molests another girl, and
manipulates the situation into a game, the victim is unprepared for the
sexualization." And the offender apparently fixates on the hymen,
virginity. Once that's gone, she loses interest, unless there's a greater
aberration to escalate to.  "Amber is also a rapid evolver.  Each release
is less intense than the last, so she had to try harder for less reward."

   "You said it's not about sex, but now she gets off on it?"

   "Not sexually." I shook my head, "It's sexuAl, physically, but
emotionally tied to her self esteem.  She feels better about herself, the
assaults reinforce that image, so it's like the rush for Compulsive
Gamblers, or other similar habituation."

   "So how isn't that sex?" The father asked the questions, because his
wife couldn't stop crying.

   "It's more intense than sex.  She repressed herself to the point that
she can barely feel physical pleasure, without it being at least somewhat
abusive.  So, the emotional release is easier, and more rewarding."

   "How did this happen?" she sobbed, "What did we do wrong?"

   Sigh, "Personally?  Probably nothing.  She won't talk about the
experience, which I believe means she was abused, and won't admit it.  She
can lie about being victimized, but can't even think of herself as
vulnerable, or exploited.  However, that means I can't believe anything she
tells me about her childhood."

   "She's not violent." I presented some positive, "It's not your fault,
none of it." You don't have to blame victims, they already do it
themselves. "I know what you must have thought, but you can't pay attention
always, or forever.  These experiences are so rare, you can go lifetimes
between them, so when they do occur, very few are prepared, nor even aware
of them.  I will have to talk to your son, though."

   He won't admit it, it probably didn't stop there, just force him to hide
it better, but at some point it may have been her template for the
Anger-Retaliatory humiliation.  The emotional abuse, and verbal fetishism.

   The only way to understand is by tracking down the cause.

   Amber {Tf NS Psyc}

   "Hey," I looked over, "You moved your desk." She nodded.

   "Have a seat." New chair, recliner with a handle on the side.  She took
the old one, pulled it out from the corner, and sat down.

   "Comfy!" didn't stick my feet out.

   "I talked to Jeffrey." I held my breath.  Nodded?  "He didn't tell your,
secrets, out loud." No, but she could totally read his mind.

   I swallowed, "He still in college?"

   "Dropped out." Where were her glasses?  Oh yeah, back on the desk.  She
rubbed her nail under the side of her jaw.  Her teeth look blunt, but her
jaw looks strong, of course.  Not a secret in group, she's a boy once. 
There's just no way to use it against her.  None.

   "Girlfriend?"

   "Ha!" honest laugh.  "No, you know that." I stop myself nodding.  Then
go right ahead.  Try to hide it, or don't.  She's got my number.  "Now do
you want to talk about it?" I counted back the last 2 times I'd heard that.
"He potty-trained you.  He didn't stop when she caught him?"

   I closed my eyes.  "I don't remember that." Mhm?  "No, I do, but I
didn't.  He was so big, I saw it, but it was, up there." She scoffed.  "All
right I remember mom," I rolled my eyes in my lids.  "She was so mad!"

   "She spanked him?"

   "Hard," I nodded, "He screamed."

   She nodded, her face pained.  Believed me.  "I didn't see it, but he
stopped.  She didn't hit him all the time, but when we were bad, yeah."
shrug, "She spanked us.  Dad didn't, he worked, she didn't.  She didn't
leave us alone, together.  Ever, i pretty much didn't think about it."

   "He started up again." I licked my front teeth.

   "Umh," I pointed, "I was missing this one, and this was growing back."

   "So, seven, or eight?" she looked up, "Which would make him thirteen, or
fourteen." and figured it out.

   "About," I agreed.  "Fine, I get it.  If I don't talk about it, I just
get worse.  Got that.  My problem is I have no idea how to talk about it."
Nor even think about it.

   "Of course," she sat back, "That's what you're here to learn." I sighed,
and closed my eyes.  "Relax, forget the emotions, or leave them buried for
now, and try to remember what he did."

   The first time, I remember?  I was playing, I don't remember which toys,
but they were on the floor.  I was sitting, behind them.  He didn't come
in, sit down.

   "Good."

   "He touched my back, and my hair.  Then he went in the bathroom, and
peed.  I heard him grunting, and looked back.  You know he was jerking off.
Mom was in the kitchen.  Both doors wide open, he looked over at me,
smiled, and closed his eyes.  I bet he heard me giggle.  Huh!  Left handed,
he's not left handed, but he used that one, so I could see it."

   "Did he flash you a lot?"

   "And peeped, I don't remember how long, or when it started." Or what
that felt like.  Weird.  "Uh?  I guess he touched me.  By 'accident', but
too young, and ignorant to suspect it?" She nodded.  I closed my eyes. 
"Hm. He, started playing with me, whenever he could."

   "He molested you how?"

   "He took forever.  Like a year fondling me through my clothes, then in
my pants, and underwear.  " I blinked.  "He watched me pee, and wiped me.
No, back then when I was." I sat up, held my hands out at different
heights. "About 4, 5?" I shook my head, and opened my eyes again.  "Huh!"
emotional release!  "Wow, okay.  It was after potty-training, and mom beat
the hell out of him.  I don't remember if she hit him before that.  Uh?  I
had to pee at the park, and he held me up.  Behind a bush." Was I ever that
little?

   "Good," she sat up, "That's very good for now."

   "What does that mean?" I wondered, "What does any of that mean?"

   "I don't know," she stood up, "It means we can start figuring that out."

   I felt drunk, but I didn't want to let any more out, where she could
hear me.  Of course I talk to myself, noone else understands me.  Not even
'Bert.  But, now that I have some idea how, maybe I can explain myself, to
myself.  What does it mean?  The biggest missing piece must be the
potty-training, maybe even started when I was in diapers.  Pee, he likes
pee.  He pees to simulate getting off when he can't get it up.  Let it
trickle around his finger.

   So much bigger then mine, I can't do it, there's not a big enough
finger. So yeah, phallic, displacement?  I actually wish I could ask Dr. 
Maud.  Facepalm.  Took a while to come back out, but that's something to
try.  Pissing around his prick, in the outside.  I need to find a place,
private enough to be sexual.  Or find 'Bert, call him, or.  No, figure this
out myself.  What the fuck, how can I think?

   Okay, Jeff is the key.  Or the one I got now, the new one.  So, what can
I remember?

   Pottymouth.  Yeah, he talked to himself, I thought he ment me, but I was
so confused, and distracted by the weird feeling.  Okay, I've got to be old
enough to process that.  Nobody can help, there's no words.  No fear, not
turned on, I couldn't.  I was too young.  Did I ever feel that again?  No,
I avoided Shame.  That's it, I felt like there was something wrong with me.
He didn't tell me that, I just cried.  And he called me a baby.  Not 'Baby'
like Babe, but Crybaby.

   He didn't hurt me, he didn't have to, he somehow convinced me it was all
a game.  Victim Rehearsal?  Not the therapy, but whenever I played my own
victim.  Only he used me as a practice victim, and sent me out.  To get
other kids, just like he showed me.  I tried with boys, but i couldn't get
it to work, and then the girls just ran away, when they met Jeff, so I
stopped taking them to meet Jeff.

   And then I grew up.  Meghan is intimidating.  I thought I loved her, I
actually started believing it after a while, but I don't hate her.  Not any
more, she's my worst victim.  That's how you scare them away, victims
always leave.  I don't love 'Bert any more, I lust after his perviness, and
usually don't get off until he's gone, but maybe that's my problem.  When
did I ever get off with someone else?  Just Meghan, and I'm never going to
find another one.

   I swear I'll never treat another one like I did her.  I wish I could go
back, stop myself, kill myself before I ever saw her.  OMFG how can I lie
to myself like that?  How can I tell myself that's not abuse, he, or she
wasn't my victim.  Is 'Bert the first person I ever had sex with?  Not
love, not abuse, just sex.  Not even sex, we molest each other with some
fucked up roles.  But never Brother/Sister?  Really?  Just totally avoided
that perfectly obvious fantasy, because it wasn't a fantasy.  It doesn't
turn me on, ANYthing but that?

   Because I was a victim.  I don't want to feel that, so I abuse people? I
mean yeah, they totally let me.  I have to laugh at how easy it was, but
the whole time I was humiliating them in my mind.  Making them animals,
treating them like, I don't know.  Nobody acts like that, and it made me
feel special?

   Ew.  No I really hate myself.  What's wrong with me?  I knew I was a
freak, but I have no way to kill myself.  Here, now, after not thinking
about it my whole life, the best thing, for everyone.  That'll show them.
No, don't go anywhere stupid.  Like the highway, or the overpass a few
blocks down.  Too far to walk, I'd never make it.  I can't even get up, I
just want to shatter, and blow away.

   I don't need a knife, or a gun, ever.  And how long have they been
conspiring to keep me away from them?  A knife, I mean.  Maud had one, a
knife block, I saw it the first night I went over to her house.  Nothing
sharper than a fork, and every single one that came, and did something to
me.  Not sex, sexual, but Berts the only one doing it openly.  But Larry?
That wasn't a fantasy, I chased him in the corner, and pounced on him, then
he came back, and knew exactly where to find me.  Then Bert, right after
that?

   Why?  What does that mean?  What's taking Dr.  Maud so long with a
diagnosis?  I know they say she doesn't understand it, but even with the
whole group, her team?  I'm sure she's got what's best for me, but I can't
help feeling violated.  I feel violated?  When did I start understanding
that?  When I remembered feeling violated.  That's why I was ashamed,
that's why I was crying, that's why these tears aren't even wet enough to
turn me on.

   "Because it's not about sex," I pull my panties up with me.  My feet
were going to sleep anyway.  Now, I just need to figure out what it is.

   Ruth {F?  NS}

   "Yeah?" Don't recognize the number.

   "Ruth?"

   "Who's this?" I see a couple spots.

   "Amber." Pull In.

   "YTF are you calling me!" Then?  Skip [P] for [R], breathe, don't hit
that bumper, check my mirror.

   "You ever," get that not so fresh feeling, "Want to kill yourself?" She
sounds, like she's been crying.

   "Huh," right after this truck, "Where are you?"

   "At the church, where we have a meeting.  Are you coming?" So help me,
if this is some sort of trick, I'll kill her myself.

   "Don't hang up," come out of the turn, don't speed, but get back up to
speed.  "Can you come out front?"

   "I'm right here," she waves, and I have to pull around.  Across the
street, down from the wrong corner, I park, and grab my keys on the way
out. In my pocket, don't want to give anyone the wrong idea.

   She's really crying, or learned how to fake it better.  "Ooh," damn it,
"Come on," I grab her shoulders in my arm, "Let's go for a walk." Stay in
public, keep an eye out for tails, or gangs.  "What're you doing here?"
trying to get raped?  Not a bad neighborhood, but badly lit, and too many
men around.  Just 2 girls walking, girl stuff, nothing to see here.

   "How?"

   "What?" She looks over, "Oh, I never thought about,"

   "Don't."

   "I don't think I can hurt myself."

   "Then what do you need me for?"

   "You quit," I didn't smell any alcohol on her breath.

   "What?"

   "Abusing Maud." I sighed.

   "I don't know what you heard," I blew the 'but' out my nose.  "I didn't
'abuse' Maud." she didn't believe me.  "I started, subconsciously trying
to. She didn't let me."

   Right, she's invulnerable.

   "Why?"

   "I assume you know she didn't want to be abused," so by process of
elimination, "She didn't live up to my, huhnrealistic expectations."

   "She's not a," careful!  "Lesbian."

   "She is," I admit, "A better one'n me, but she couldn't satisfy me, and
I got mad.  You know she's got a blackbelt in Akido?"

   "What's that?"

   "How to avoid violence," hard to explain.  "I grabbed her, ironically
tried to shake some sense into her." I wound up piled up, upside down in
the corner.  "I hear you're not violent.  Try it with her some time.  You
probably won't touch her."

   "I decided not to try about 5 seconds in, but thanks for the head's up."
She sighed, "I lied about that."

   "Violence?"

   She nodded, looked me in the eyes, truthfully.  "I don't know how to
tell myself the truth." I give her a nod.  "You quit that?"

   "Denial?" Yes, "As far as I can tell."

   "How?"

   "It's a long story," I steered her for the corner shop.  "You got any
cigarettes?" Pipe doesn't really work for this.

   "You mind menthol?" I roll my eyes.  It's not about my issues, just this
once.  Clink!  "What was your mother like?"

   "What?"

   "I don't know much about mothers."

   "You think it's about that?" Damn you, Freud!

   "I know it's about my brother." she shrugged, "I finally got that, but
I'm not sure what it was about, for him?"

   "What'd he do?"

   "Molested me," she sighed, "Twice," looked up.  I tried to work out the
expression on her face, but I'm not Maud.  "I remember when he started
again, and I get," she looks up, "Flashes, from the first time.  He was
about 10, when he stopped, and mom beat the hell out of him for it.  I
don't know if that was the first time, but he remembers it." She nodded,
"You think that made him,"

   "I'm not Maud, uh, Doctor..."

   "I know, I'll ask her about that, but did you ever want to just die?"

   "Not any more."

   "I just did, before I called you.  I never did before."

   "You're always so," Narcissistic, deluded to grandure, I really needed
to read more, when I could learn this kind of thing instead of useless
Liturgies.  "Awesome?"

   "You think so?"

   "No," I scoffed, "But you did.  Sorry, but that's one of the things even
I picked up on."

   "I wasn't" she gulped, "Guh!" A sob, like a hickup, "I was so dirty
inside, I still am, but I think all that was to hide it."

   "I wasn't never abused." Was not, ever?  Nod.  "Not sexually, I was
repressed, and I played along with that.  Discrimination, self loathing,"
but.

   "Yeah, that." She nodded.  "I didn't want to hate myself."

   "Then what?"

   "Then, I started fantasizing."

   "When?"

   "When he stopped.  I got my period.  He left home, right after that."

   "Did he wait for," I swallowed.  "That?"

   "I don't know," she thought, "Maybe?  Or, he thought it was fun until I
started,"

   "So!" Uh, "Then you started fantasizing?"

   "Whats the word for when you take something from you, and put it on
them?"

   "Displacement?" I guessed.

   "Yeah, I" thought, "Guess I displaced that.  Feeling," she shivered,
"Eugh!  Well, I did that, to a girl.  I made her feel all dirty.  Huh!"
Lightbulb, "It made me feel, less.  Dirty.  Not clean, but it displaced
that, to her."

   "That was your first Victim" I held up the but.  "Denial, get used to
that word." I never saw her wince at it before.

   "I think so," I frowned.  I know what she looks like thinking.  She
didn't feel anything, just said it, numbly.  Nobody can always tell, and I
guess anyone gets lucky some times.  "My third, but they were," quick
nibble, "My brother's."

   "Don't protect him."

   "Jeff's victims.  He told me how to make friends, and said he wanted to
meet them.  When he did, they didn't want to be my friends."

   "Did you do anything to them?" She half-shrugged under my hand. 
"They're your victims too."

   "Huh," I know.

   "Rationalizing is probably your main problem.  Check with Maud, she'd
know better, but I think that's it.  If you can lie to yourself, God knows
I did!" about Him, "Then you're capable of anything.  Even the worst
things."

   "Helpless." Probably to herself.  "Yeah, that's the worst feeling."

   Hug her, "Yeah," I know.  "You're really a child molestor?" Hard to
believe.

   "No," she laughed, "Teenage boys, mostly, why?  Oh, I don't have a type,
the one time I got caught was a babysitting gig.  That was really Jeff,
what he wanted.

   "What about transvestite?" I giggled.  Not quite, she's a girl.  Maybe,
Doc's not even getting down to the Gender yet.

   She didn't.  "Maybe, why?"

   "It's just, I never understood that one." even for men, "Like foot
fetish.  WTF?"

   "I don't know about that one.  Megahn's got big feet, but I cared more
about her hands."

   Yeah, "Hn!" I covered my mouth.

   "The?" she pushed me, "Fuck!"

   "Now," I held my hands up, "You guys were allready broke up." Keep them
between us, see if I can keep her away.

   "Auh!" I pushed her back, and she stumbled.  I stood back, put my hands
up again when she caught her balance, and stayed out of reach.  "How could
you!" I caught her charge, and pushed her down.

   "Okay," answers the one about violence, "Don't hurt yourself any more."

   "No," I jump back, "I'll kill you!" she cries on her hands an knees.

   "SHE's." I got her attention, "Not.  Yours.  As soon as you made her a
victim you fucked that up."

   "But I didn't," she sobbed, making a scene, "I didn't want to!"

   "It's all right," I held my hand up, "I got this," and reached to help
her up.  "I'm helping patch her heart back together." I held her arms, "Now
let's head back to my car..."

   "No," she pulled away and ran.  I hope it all sinks in before she hurts
anyone.  Anyone else.  I shouldn't think like that, but I feel that way. 
She could solve a lot of problems for a lot of people, if she doesn't hurt
someone.

   Why did I do that to her?  Not again.  Larry's the only one I didn't
hurt, and Charley.  I wanted to torture him.  She's too much like me, when
I gave up, and stopped running.  Before I made it back to church, serially
chasing them away with backhanded insults.  Compliment, and cancel it out
with the nastiest thing I can think to say, then "Sorry," too late, or try
to rape them when they came by my dorm room.  Why didn't they say anything,
why didn't any of them tell security, or talk to each-other?

   Because I didn't hurt them, painfully, I tried to get revenge for
looking so good.  Being so much better than me that I'd pick apart their
flaws, or exploit their weaknesses.  How many times they gotta say it,
Ruth? The few times I got a bunt even to second base, it was the ones that
didn't stop me.  I made the move, and left them hurting.  Drove them off
instead of just letting them love me.  In denial, that they could?  No,
even worse than that.

   I resent their love.

   How could I do that?  What could make me, what congenital, or
environmental flaw would make love hurt so much?  Not Maternal love like
Glo/Larry, but Romantic sexual love.  Why does that make me hate them?  I
don't know if I should ever see Meghan again, but I have to think about
her. Can she risk loving me?  She does, knows she doesn't even have to tell
me, or ask me.

   Can I love her, so young?  I can't stop her, I can dust her on a bike
until those kicking legs get dialed in on cranking, then I'd probably have
to get around to the valve job on the Windsor.  Fight, or flight?

   "False dychotomy." So, what're the points between?  Don't run, but if I
stay, don't fight.

   "No," I love Maud.  I just need sex.  And maybe someone more my age, I
hate feeling like a fucking pedobear.  Nor Ephebophile.  "Huh," damn near.
Even that soccer mom looked like one, if I squinted.

   Or a Charleybear.  I'm turning into one, I got that the other month. 
Yeah, they just look so good but no.  Fuck that, I'm turning into a Charley
bear, with bodyhair.  Oall right, I hate shaving.

   So, a boy/girlfriend, or a couple?  Somewhere away from Group, three
many issues around here.  "Damn!"ed bar!  Keep on walkin' Ruth.  Maybe some
healthy fantasies, that one's pretty good.  Bisexual, love/sex/whatever
what are my needs?  My emotional needs, "Huh I'll never get to self
actualization at this rate!"

   How could I do that to her, though.  Reject Meghan, again?  Break her
heart after Amber, and all the girls before her.  I don't even need empathy
for that, I remember.  I want those years back, from before I went all
Sloth.  To be young again, and YTF does she have to be tall?  Okay, I
always scale the statues that way, but that's not an answer.  Young bodies,
and faces I'll admit.

   No older sisters, not Mom, is it just older girls?  How long have I had
that hangup, and how old was i when I developed it?  Heather?  Yeah,
Heather, and before that Carol Danvers.  She started growing up first.  And
I hated her for it.  You know what your problem is you're too judgmental. I
know, right?

   ;

   {Continuity Note/Spoilers: "Amber" is Janeanne G.  Cannon, daughter of
Ruth Elizabeth Cannon, and the Prototype Liggett.  Ruth is a Morion, and
Meghan inherited Leora/Eve-8/Amanda Hunt from birth.  A generation after
separating from her Wheatley, Eugene/Machina and the Neuronano.  (Which
Morion is using to reproduce Liggetti, transferring from Ruth to Amber to
Megan to check on the greyware transfer, to Larry, then finally Gary Cannon
on the way out.) It's complicated, which is why this was all subconscious
when I wrote it.  Don't try to read my mind, we get lost in here.  It's a
bit of a defense mechanism, like Lilith's dislex/metria.  When Mega kicked
her ass with "Fencing, and Ba Gua," it was actually the original
Cyberserker Gauche/Knight/Legerdemain Reflex map, which she is custodian
for, as Morion is for Desiocrates.  Amber/Liggett is a combination of the
2, all of this is the Superego (3rd Person Ignorant) origin story for the
Liggetti.  Since none of the narrators are actually aware of any of this,
and Basiatis is already gone.

   .
   .}