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From: Diola Dragontail <dioladragontail@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Tales of the Mansion: The Monthly Cycle [M/F, Lycanthrope, Bondage, D/S, Consent]
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Date: Mon, 03 Apr 2006 02:10:04 -0400
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Tales of the Mansion

  The Monthly Cycle
  [M/F, Lycanthrope, Bondage, D/S, Consent]

  by Diola Dragontail
(/~dioladragontail/)

Prologue:

You don't know what it is about this woman, but she
always makes you nervous.  Not the normal kind of
'meeting with your boss' nervous either.  Something
about her just makes your insides feel quivery, like
they were trying to rebel from the meeting and run out
of the room on their own.

A small breakfast had been presented for this meeting,
which caused you even more dismay.  Your nerves had
put your stomach into a state where even looking at
food made you feel ill.

You did the polite thing though, accepting a small cup
of tea and a pair of plain shortbread cookies.  Just
enough not to be insulting at the hospitality, but not
enough to cause an embarrassing scene in her office.

At least that's what you hoped.

You sipped your tea as carefully as you could,
concentrating on keeping your hand steady.  You really
didn't want to give away the state of your mind to her
or, at least, not make it so obvious that she had to
comment on it.

"Since you performed so well on your first
assignment."  Signaling that the morning's
pleasantries were over.  "I have decided to see if you
can handle something slightly more intense."

You nodded slightly, "I think that would be fine.  I'm
sure I can survive it."

She raised an eyebrow slightly, in mock surprise.  "I
would not speak so fast if I were in your shoes.  Even
the assignment I am about to give you is relatively
tame compared to what I could be giving you."

"Of course."  Was all you could reply to her minor
chastising.

Her hands reached to the side of her desk and picked
up a small wooden box that you failed to notice
previously.  She placed the box down on the desk,
directly in front of you.

"If you find this one so uninteresting,"  She added,
with a challenging spark to her voice.  "Perhaps we
should move you up to an Ivory class customer for your
next assignment." 

====================================

"Is it that time already?"

Mary Riordan nodded in reply, a bit sadly.

The Elvish woman smiled reassuringly.  "These things
happen."  She leaned to the side, opened a drawer in
her desk and took out large leather bound book.  She
placed it on her desk as her fingers felt along the
top of it.  She found the red silk place holder and
opened the book.

She looked up at Mary again, "Three nights then?  The
usual accommodations?"  Mary nodded again.

"Good, good."  The mistress replied, her fingers
finding a charcoal pencil and writing Mary's name in
on the first empty line.  "And I assume I should
arrange for the usual visitor?"

Mary swallowed and nodded, "Yes please."

"Very well then."  The Elvish woman closed the ledger
as she turned to look out the window.  "Room 241, but
there is a few hours yet.  Give me an hour to have the
room made up properly for you."

Mary nodded again and started to stand up.  In a rare
show of emotion, the mistress smiled again, "You
should not worry so much.  There is nothing to be
ashamed of.  Everything will be fine."

Mary smiled weakly, "Thank you."  She thought for a
moment.  "I think...  I think I'll go get something to
eat while the room is...  well, is..."

The mistress just nodded, "Take your time."

Mary picked up her bag from the floor and walked out
of the office.  She wandered in her own thoughts as
she walked.  She didn't really like this place, but
she still felt lucky to be able to come here.  Many
others like her were not so lucky and always came to
miserable ends.  The lucky ones were dead long before
the madness gripped them.  The unlucky ones, well,
they left a trail of broken bodies and lives behind
them like ripples following a boat.

She shook her head slightly, trying to cast the dark
thoughts aside.  She decided she'd treat herself to a
good meal.  She felt she deserved at least that much.

Hardly anyone even noticed her as she walked through
the hallways and she just kept her eyes on the ground.
 Glancing up only occasionally to make sure she didn't
walk into anything or anyone.  She didn't like looking
at the people here.  Most of them were half dressed
most of the time and she had no desire to see that.  

She wondered what they were thinking as they pranced
around like this.  It all just seemed so... dirty and
embarrassing.  She couldn't fathom what made them all
feel comfortable to be like this.  The familarness
they all seemed to have, the ease at which they moved
around and dealt with each other, it all seemed alien
to her.

She pushed her spectacles back up her face, before
they slipped off the tip of her nose; during the
entire movement she still kept her eyes on the ground.

She really did not want anyone here to recognize her
either.  The last thing she wished to happen was for
someone on the streets outside to stop her and talk to
her about this place.  But then she figured the
likelihood of that happened were slim to nil.  None of
them recognized her as being part of this world.  To
them she was just background noise.  Maybe a librarian
or a bookkeeper for the place.  No one for them to pay
much mind to.

She slipped silently into the dining room and easily
found an empty table.  It was still a bit early for
the evening's meal, so the room was agreeably quiet. 
She had only sat for a moment before the waitress was
quick to attend to her needs.

Mary kept the conversation short and simple.  She
listened to what was on the evening menu.  Ordered and
left it at that.  She wasn't rude, but she didn't
follow up on any of the waitress's attempts to make
small talk.  The small talk was really only intended
to make her feel comfortable.  And she didn't think
that would be possible.

===

Mary stepped in her room and looked around slowly.  It
was much as she expected.  Bare stone walls, no
windows, and only one doors in addition to the one she
entered from.  All the furniture had been removed and
a jumbled pile of hay lay on the floor in one corner
of the room.

She closed the door behind her and then opened the
other door.  A plain washroom, just as she expected. 
She stepped into the room and placed her bag on the
counter.  She looked herself in the mirror for a
moment, absently fixing a few stray locks of crimson
hair that had slipped out of her braid.  She took a
deep breath and resigned herself to the fact that this
was the way it had to be.

Mary started to undress slowly, removing her cloak and
hanging it on the hook mounted on the wall of the
restroom.  She then delicately unbuttoned her white
cotton blouse, slipping it from her shoulders and
carefully folding it before placing it on the counter
next to her bag.  She removed her dress next, slipping
it down her legs, then carefully folding it as well,
placing it on top of her blouse.  She sat down to
unlace her boots, slipping them off her feet and
placing them to the side, in an orderly fashion.

She remained sitting as she rolled her stockings down
her legs, first the right leg, then the left leg. 
Then rolled them together and placed them with the
rest of her clothes.  She reached for the long
ponytail that hung from the back of her head and slid
the hair band off the end.  This she tucked into her
bag before running her fingers through her hair to
untwine the braid her hair was in.

She stood up again now, making it a point to keep her
back to the mirror.  She never wanted to look at
herself like this.  She loosened the corset binding
her breasts and slipped it off.  She tucked this out
of sight in her bag then took a moment to rub the deep
red indentations in her skin the edges of the corset
had left.  With another deep breath, she slipped her
panties down her legs and quickly pushed it into her
bag as well.

She removed her spectacles from her face and carefully
folded them closed.  She placed them onto a safe spot
on the counter, and then turned to walk back into the
other room.  The stone floor was cold under her feet
and she just tried to pay attention to nothing but
that.  She hated walking around naked like this,
exposed, even if it was in the privacy of her own
room.  Feeling the pebbles and grit under her feet
gave her something else to think about.

She sat down on the pile of hay and started to feel
around it.  It wasn't very comfortable, in fact, every
where it touched her just made her feel itchy and
uncomfortable.  Finally her hands found what they were
looking for.

She fished it up from under the hay and it made dull
metallic sounds as it banged on itself.  The chain,
here it one of them were, the manacle hanging from one
end.  The other end imbedded securely in the stone of
the room.  With meticulous attention, she slipped one
of her wrists into the manacle and snapped it closed. 
She tugged on it once, then twice and, to her
satisfaction, it didn't budge an inch.

She continued this procedure three more times, until
the other manacles entrapped both her wrists and her
ankles.  Mary sat back on the hay and tried to relax. 
There was nothing more to do but wait.  Wait until it
was all over.

===

Mary opened her eyes with a bolt.  She was awake
instantly.  She could feel the hair on the back of her
neck standing up.  Something wasn't right.  She could
tell.

She stretched very slowly, quietly.  So that no sneaky
eyes would see her.  Her skin rippled over her muscles
and her spine popped silently, each joint in rapid
succession.  The room was dark, but that didn't bother
her.  She narrowed her eyes slowly, but saw nothing. 
No movement, not a single thing.  She wrinkled her
nose and sniffed the air.  There were many scents,
straw, mildew, and sweat of all sorts.  All of the
sweat seemed stale, old, nothing to be concerned with.

She took a tentative step forward, but something
pulled at her leg, keeping her from moving.  She shook
her leg now, trying to throw off whatever it was.  She
heard the metallic jingle that came from it and she
realized immediately what it was.

She quickly shook her other leg and pulled her arms at
the same time, only to find they were in a similar
state as well.  She let out a low growl of annoyance
now and started to strain against the bindings.  She
could feel the metal cutting into her skin, but the
metal head firm.

It was the chains!  The damn chains!  She hated these
things!  They kept her here!  Kept her from running! 
Kept her from being free!

"Iron!"  She screamed out in disgust, straining her
arms even harder against the chains.  "Again!  Why did
she put me here?!"  

Her words gave way to a loud howl of pain and disgust.
 It was a threat, meant to be carried far on the wind.
 She wanted her to hear it.  She wanted her to know
that one day she'd find her and she'd make her pay for
doing this to her again.

Her howl was cut short at the sound of someone at the
door.  She slinked back slightly, trying not to be
seen, but the door opened and the figure looked
directly at her.  He carried a torch in his hand; the
brightness of the fire hurt her eyes, making her
squint against it.

"Ah, you're awake."  The figure said in a male voice. 
"I was beginning to think you'd sleep straight through
the night."

The outline of the figure was humanoid, but large. 
She couldn't make out any details while her eyes
slowly adjusted, but his scent seemed familiar.  She
recognized it from somewhere.  She burrowed through
her mind, trying to associate the smell with a memory.

He placed the torch in a wall holder near the door,
and then turned to look at her again.  He recognized
her immediately, he knew her well.  After all, they'd
been doing this for months now.  The wolf girl, as he
thought of her, was a wild spirit, always needing his
attention.  Sometimes he managed to break her over the
course of their short encounters, other times she
remained sternly resolute to him.  It was a challenge,
one he truly enjoyed.

"Bastard!"  She screamed out at him as his smell
finally connected to a memory.  "I'll rip your throat
out!  I'll gnaw on your bones!"

He smiled in response to this, "My, aren't we just all
full of zeal this evening?"

She growled in response, holding her place and staring
at him.  She hated him!  He was the one that held her
here!  It was all his fault!  But mingled with the
hate was something else.  Lust.  She wanted him.  And
she could smell that he wanted her too.

He placed his bag down on the floor, then turned and
locked the door.

Her growl grew into a roar.  How dare he turn his back
on her!  She went to leap at him, to sink into him and
show him the folly of his ways.  The chains held her
firm; they didn't even allow her to flex forward, much
less leap at him.  Her roar grew in intensity,
mustered on by her frustration.

He turned to look at her again, "Now now...  You don't
want me to have to put the muzzle on you again, do
you?"

Her growl softened into a rumble in the pit of her
belly.  She remembered the muzzle.  She hated that
thing more than she hated the chains.

He smiled at her reaction, "Good."  Then took two
steps towards her, dropping down to his haunches to
look her eye to eye.  He didn't know anything about
her, beyond what went on in this small room.  He
didn't know what she was like when she wasn't like
this, half wolf, half woman.  To be truthful, he
didn't care to know any more about her, he was happy
with her just this way.

She met his gaze and held it.  Her eyes unflinching,
her spirit unwavering.  She stared back at him, never
even blinking.  But he just held his stare and she
could feel the urge in the back of her head.  It was
small at first, just a nagging, wanting her to look
away, but it grew.  Once it started to grow, it grew
faster and faster until it couldn't be resisted.  She
turned her head away in disgust, breaking the eye
contact.

He chuckled in reply which only infuriated her.  Only
one thought flashed through her mind, that she'd make
the bastard pay for laughing at her.

She lashed out at him instinctively, flexing her
fingers as she swung out at him.  Her fingernails
extended slightly and bit through his shirt and into
his flesh, raking across his chest.

His face betrayed nothing.  He just smiled at her,
unfazed by her lashing out at him.  But his body
betrayed his pain. She saw his chest cringe back from
her nails and it was almost satisfying.

He didn't give her much time to revel in it though. 
His large hand reaching out and grabbing her head by
her jaw.  Forcing her to look him in the eye again. 
"Are you done?"

Her lips curled in a snarl and she flexed her arm to
lash out at him again, but this time his free hand
grabbed her wrist.  Both of his hand squeezed, just
enough to hurt, making her squeal in pain.  "I said...
 Are you done?"

She fought against the pain and spat in his face. 
Causing him only to chuckle again.  He released his
hands from her and stood up.  "I see we're going to
have a very enjoyable time."

He had the audacity to turn his back on her again,
walking back to his bag as he took the remains of his
shirt off.  He used the tattered cloth to wipe the
saliva from his face then dropped the shirt in a
crumpled ball.  He bent over his bag and dug around it
for a moment, fishing something out and then turning
to face her again.

She stared at him defiantly, smugly.  She saw the five
welts across his chest, tinged with dark blood.  She
had drawn first blood and there was nothing he could
do to change that now, but he didn't seem to care. 
Then she saw what he was holding in his hand.

He held the muzzle up where she could see it.  It was
dark leather and would fit snugly across her face,
buckling behind her head.  Once it was on, she knew
she couldn't get it off until he took it off her.

"You recognize this then?"  He asked condescendingly. 
"How about I just leave this right here?  Where you
can see it?"

He turned and hung it from the bottom of the torch,
where she couldn't miss it.  Its rigid leather made it
look full already, like there was an invisible head
already in it.

He turned to face her again, but came no closer. 
"Let's go over the rules, shall we?"

"Just like a human."  She snorted in reply.  "Always
worrying about the rules."

He ignored her defiance.  "No teeth."  He stated
simply.  "Use those fangs of yours on me, just once,
and then it's the muzzle for you."

"I'll rake your flesh from your bones and eat it while
it's still warm."  She growled back at him.

"You certainly can try."  He replied, amused.  "But
when I break you, you're mine.  Mine to do with as I
please.  Then, and only then, will I let you free of
your chains."

"Break me?"  She laughed.  "You haven't the stuff,
little man."

"Well, we'll see, won't we?"

"And what do I get when I break you?"  She gnarled at
him.

He laughed at her again, this human and his laughter
was infuriating her now.  "It hasn't happened yet. 
But if it does, we'll discuss it then."

He glanced down at his chest, looking at the welts. 
He touched one of them, staining the tip of his finger
scarlet with his own blood.  He then stepped towards
her and held the finger near her nose.

She shivered slightly as the rusty smell of his fresh
blood assaulted her senses.  It reached deep inside
her body and shook her core.  Her instincts took over
and she leaned forward to try to lick it from him, but
his finger was just slightly out of her reach.

His finger didn't budge as she strained against her
bonds.  It was so close, so close, but still out of
her reach.  She whimpered uncontrollable, begging for
it, but his finger still didn't come any closer.

He drew his hand back and licked the taint from his
finger, causing her to howl out in annoyance.

"For this,"  His hand gestured to his chest, "You
should be punished."

His voice was stern, matter of fact in tone.  As if
there was no choice in the matter.

She growled in reply, "You wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't?"  He asked, with mock surprise.  He stood
there for a second, regarding her, then moved with a
swiftness that shocked her.

Before she knew what had happened, his arm was across
her back, holding her to his leg, pinning her back and
shoulders.  She snarled and went to snap at his leg,
but found herself directly facing the empty muzzle. 
She tried to lash out at him with her hands, but the
chains were taught, holding her hands in place.

"Now, let's try that again."  He repeated.  "For what
you did, you deserve to be punished, right?"

"Fuck you!"  She screamed out at him, as she tried to
wiggle free.

"I intend to."  He said more than a bit smugly as he
slapped his hand across her bare ass.  It wasn't a
hard slap, but it was enough to get her attention, her
squirming stopped immediately.

He knew that the prickly thin fur covering her ass
provided little protection.  He lifted his hand and
slapped her ass again, harder this time.  She jumped
in surprise, a low growl growing in her throat.

The noise only spurred him to slap her again, harder. 
Her growl grew into a full fledged roar as her
squirming for release was renewed.

"You struggle and it will only be worse for you."  He
warned her as he slapped her again, using the same
force as before.  This time he held his hand on her
ass after the slap, cupping it lightly.

Her roar simmered down a bit, but her squirming
continued.  He slapped her again, this time rubbing
her ass lightly after the slap.  The change in his
hand seemed to catch her off guard again, causing her
writhing to still.

He slapped her once more then rubbed her ass a bit
longer.  Her roar dulled down to a whimper.  Satisfied
with that, he released her, dumping her back to the
straw and stood back up.  

She lay still for a moment, recovering her thoughts. 
She was confused at the way her body was starting to
betray her.  She glanced up at the man towering over
her and bared her teeth.

"You'll not have me."  She said through clenched
teeth, trying to stare him down.

"See?  That's where you misunderstand."  His smirk
infuriated her even more now.  "I already have you."

Her face twisted into a sneer.  "These chains might
hold me for now," She spat in response, tugging on the
chains again.  "But I'll-"

"Hush."  He interrupted, raising a hand.  Causing her
to instinctively fall silent, then a second later she
blinked in astonishment at her own reaction.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but with just a
stern look from him she found herself silent again.

 "You still misunderstand."  He repeated.  "Your
chains don't hold you here."

He regarded her for a moment, studying her face, her
posture.  "Even without the chains, you wouldn't leave
here.  Shall I show you?"

She stared up at him in confusion.  His words weren't
making sense to her now.  This had to be some sort of
trick or something.

He reached into his pocket and produced a small silver
key.  He held up where she could see it.

"Shall we?"  He asked again.

She nodded in reply while still trying to find where
the trick was.  She expected him to suddenly change
his mind and put the key away, but he didn't.  Instead
he kneeled in front of her, took her left hand
lightly, and unlocked the manacle.

She watched, stunned, as he removed the manacle,
placed it on the hay, and then rubbed her wrist.  He
let go of her wrist, allowing her to take back her
hand, which she did very carefully.

"Your other hand?"  He asked now, keeping his hand out
to receive it.

She placed her right hand in his and watched him as he
unchained that one as well.  He repeated the same
amount of care in rubbing her wrist before allowing
her to take back her hand.  He then stood up and,
making no attempt to hide the key, tucked it back into
his pocket.

She frowned now, "What about my legs?"

"I don't believe you're ready for that yet."  He
regarded her for a moment, studying her form for a
moment and making note of the subtle changes in her
posture and attitude.  "Why don't we see how you
behave now, first?  Stand up."

Without the manacles chaining her wrists to the ground
she was able to stand fully.  She found that she was
almost the same height as him, but still tall enough
to look him in the eye.  He met her eye contact with a
smug smirk and stepped towards her.

He knew what she would do.  She'd hold the eye contact
for a moment, and then break it, but before she could
he took hold of her chin and held her gaze in place.  
On him.  When she finally turned her eyes to look
away, he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her hard. 
She meekly accepted her kiss.

He broke the kiss suddenly and backhanded her hard
across her face, sending her back to the floor in
surprise.

"No."  He said flatly.  "You'll not trick me by
pretending to do what you think I expect of you."

The acidic taste of her own blood fed her fires.  Her
growl echoed through the room, warning him of her next
action, but he did not move.  Her left hand lashed
out, her nails raking through the cloth of his pants,
but never touched his skin.

"That's better."  His satisfaction heard clearly in
his voice.  "I don't want an untamed spirit just
acting the meek role."

With a predatory litheness she sprang back to her feet
in one quick motion.  With just a single motion more
she was on him.  Her claws at his throat and her teeth
bared, ready to rend his flesh from his body.

But he didn't move.  He didn't even look surprised. 
He just stood there.  His eyes fixed on her eyes.  The
same pleased smile on his face.

And she hesitated, confusion gripping her mind.  She
felt something in the back of her mind.  Recognition? 
She couldn't be sure.

"Well?"  His voice sounding impatient.  "If you're
going to do it, then do it.  Finish what you've
started."

She blinked and her face relaxed, her teeth
disappearing under her dry lips.  Her fingers eased,
drawing her claws back away from his throat.  A single
bead of blood started to well up on his neck, where
one of her claws had barely nicked him.

"I didn't think so."  He said, smugly.  "This is a
game, our game.  And you're finally realizing which of
us makes the rules."

He reached a hand out to her, touching the side of her
cheek with the back of his fingers.  Not unexpectedly,
she drew her face back, away from his touch.

"Not quite ready then?"  He asked rhetorically.  He
withdrew the key from his pocket and tossed it to her.
 "Unchain your ankles."

Despite being momentarily surprised by this, she was
still able to easily catch the key.  She knelt down
slowly to unlock the chains, but never took her eyes
off of him.  She expected this to be some sort of
trick and still kept herself on guard.

He watched her as well, but he hardly seemed very
concerned.  He took a step back then reached for the
muzzle hanging below the torch.  She had only gotten
one of her ankles free when she saw him do this.

Her hands froze in indecision.  The accursed muzzle
again.  This was a trick after all.  If she could get
her other ankle free quick enough, she could be on him
before he could put it on her.

"I don't think we'll need this tonight."  He said as
he knelt down and placed the muzzle back in his bag.  

She felt a wave of relief run through her body.  The
stress she had wound up in her spine, in preparation
for escape, flowed out of her.  Her muscles unknotted
and relaxed.  Her hands returned to their task and
freed herself from her last bond.

"We'll try this instead."  He said as he removed a
long braid of dark leather from his bag.  "I think
you've earned the privilege of the leash this
evening."

She blinked as she watched him.  She wasn't sure what
to make of this.  Was he joking?  

"You were wrong."  She whispered now, her eyes
narrowing to slits as she watched him.  "You said that
you'd not unchain me until I was broken."

She dropped the key to the stony floor, its metallic
clatter echoing off the walls.  "But I'm free now."

He nodded in an unaffected way, as if he already knew
that.

"I'm free and you haven't broken me."  She added,
irritated by his not admitting defeat.

"And I have to disagree.  You are not free, you're
just unchained."  He replied, smiling back at her. 
"And you are broken."

She watched him in stunned silence.  He must be mad. 
It would take her only a second to be rid of him.  To
leap across the room and paint the walls with his
life's blood.  If he didn't realize that, he must be
mad.

This was the moment he enjoyed the most.  There was
nothing more to protect him.  He was bare to her.  She
was free now.  There was nothing physical left to hold
her body back.  There was just her spirit to hold her
in check, the wild spirit that enjoyed seeing in her. 
The spirit that was held thrall to nothing but him.  

"You are broken."  He repeated, drilling it into her
head.

More words.  More confusing, human words.  She could
feel them encircling her.  Distracting her, muddling
up her mind.  

"You are learning now."  He said, his words almost
sounding like commands.  "Now come here."

She could smell his excitement, a musky, sticky smell
that hung in the air.  There must be something more
that she was missing.  Something else he knew that she
didn't.  He wasn't scared of her.  Why wasn't he
scared of her?

She crawled closer to him, still cautious to avoid the
sting of his displeasure.

"Good."  

His compliment wasn't half as satisfying as the feel
of his hand stroking the fur along her back.  She
arched her back up against his hand, making his
fingers touch deeper.  For a moment she could feel his
fingers touching her tender skin normally well
protected under her bristling fur.

"Maybe later,"  He intoned, like he was half
distracted.  "Maybe later, after I'm done with you,
and if you behaved..."

His voice trailed off, as if he was expecting an
answer from her.  She titled her head to look up at
his face.  Her face betrayed the hopeful wish to
attain his approval.

"Then maybe I'll take you outside to enjoy the sun?" 
The distracted tone was gone, his voice slightly
warmer now.  "You would like that, wouldn't you, pet?"

She lowered her head and let out a little satisfied
groan as his fingers touched the tender spot behind
her ears.  "Yes, master."

===

"Did you enjoy your stay?"  The Elvish woman asked as
she prepared the papers.

Mary took a moment before replying.  The last three
days were little more than shadowy dream stuff of
memories.  Indistinct figures that dwelled in the back
of her mind.  Tiny smells that clung to the back of
her nose and seemed to try to remind her of things
she'd forgotten.  She could remember little of what
happened since the last time she sat in this office.  

Her body, on the other hand, showed quite a few traces
of what had gone on.  Even now her ass ached in her
seat.  The muscles of her arms felt tender and
strained.  Her wrists and ankles showed the tell-tale
bruises of restraint.

"Yes."  Mary said as she adjusted her glasses on her
nose.  "Everything was fine."

"Good.  Good."  The Elvish woman replied with a smile,
handing a bill across her desk.  "You'll see that it's
all the usual charges.  Plus the cost of one table for
the unfortunate incident in the dining room."

"Oh."  Mary commented, slightly surprised since she
had no recollection of any incident, unfortunate or
otherwise.  "Yes, of course."

The Elvish woman glanced at her calendar; she noted a
date in particular and looked up.  "Then we'll see you
again on the 17th?"

Mary just nodded as she reached down to pick up her
bag, "Yes, I think so."  She rose slowly, the muscles
of her arm burning as she lifted the bag.

"Very good."  The Elvish woman said with a smile. 
"Safe journeys."

"Thank you."  Mary replied, adding as an afterthought.
 "Safe journeys to you as well."

She felt a fool as she left the room, thinking how
absurd it was to say that.  Obviously she's not going
anywhere, she chastised herself, so why say safe
journeys?  

The Elvish woman's assistant stood up from his desk as
Mary exited the office.  He gave her a pleasant smile,
but his attention shifted elsewhere quickly.

"Sir?"  He said to the man sitting in the waiting
room.  "The mistress is ready to see you now."

"Ah, good."  He replied as he stood and strode towards
the door.

For the briefest moment, as they passed each other,
Mary's eyes made contact with the man's.  But there
wasn't a single hint of recognition in either of their
faces.


Epilogue:

Your hand shakes with nervous energy as you reach
across the desk to pick up your napkin.  You wipe it
across your forehead, removing the cold sweat that had
accumulated.

You close your eyes as you rest your face in your
hands.  Your breath is ragged and labored.  You try to
regain yourself and steady your body and mind.  Your
head pounds as it rebels against the effort.

You don't just view these memories, you experience
them.  Every touch they felt, you felt.  You can taste
the lingering tastes in your mouth.  Phantom pains
fade from your body as the memory stones effect slowly
fades.

You decide that turning in this assignment can wait
until after a rest.  And a shower.

__________________________________________________
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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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