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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Janet in Training CH09 PT2 F/f D/s cons
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Date: Sun, 01 Aug 2010 09:10:02 -0400
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WARNING!  This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains
Strong Sexual Content.  It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS
only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.  If you
are under the age or 18 or reside in a state, nation, or planet that
prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!!

   Janet In Training CH09B: The Ordeal

   By mailto:sfmaster@att.net

   Archiving permitted, reposting is permitted; but only if you include
this statement of limitation of use and notify the author by e-mail.  The
author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple copies of this
story on paper, disk, or other fixed format.  However, individual readers
may make single copies of the story for their own, non-commercial use.

   Copyright (c) 1997 by mailto:sfmaster@att.net

   Attn: Readers please feel free to send e-mail to the author.  I do want
to hear from you!

   The Ordeal Part Two

   Suddenly time seemed to stop, and the entire universe revolved around
Janet and the Dungeon.  Just a few days before, she had used Tina in hers,
and even though she had placed Part the girl in real distress, Tina had not
been punished like Myra had been now.

   Janet looked at Myra's wracked form, and realized that the girl had been
correct in calling Mercy, and should not be whipped any more.  Could Janet
take her place, for a girl that she didn't even own?  Once before, at the
very beginning of her training with Erica, she had taken Tiffany's
discipline.  Janet had vowed never to do so again.  But this was very
different!

   Janet had fantasized that she would one day ask her friend Stephanie to
do a scene with her, so that she might know again the feel of the lash. 
But to let Lauren be her tormentor, who Stephanie had warned her so much
about!

   "Well, Mistress Janet, do you accept?" demanded Lauren, holding her
crop.

   "Yes.  Yes, I'll do it.  Because you're such a bitch," insulted Janet.

   Lauren went to strike Janet with her hand, but held back.

   "Why should I strike you when I can use the whip instead?" asked Lauren.
"Now strip!  Sabrina, attend me, please," ordered the Mistress.

   Janet coiled her whip and placed it on a table where she had removed it.
She watched as Lauren ordered Sabrina to let Myra down from her
imprisonment, then Janet slowly removed her few articles of clothing.  She
placed those on the table next to the whips and other articles of the
Dungeon.

   Soon, she was naked and bare.  She shivered, even though the Dungeon was
quite warm.  She walked slowly, her eyes downcast, towards Lauren.  The
Mistress was standing next to Sabrina, who was helping Myra.

   Janet sank to her knees in front of Lauren.  She kept her legs open, so
that she was available for whatever the Mistress might desire of her.  It
had been months since any woman had used the whip on her, and Janet longed
for Erica.

   "That's better.  Janet, do you accept discipline in place of Myra,
property of Rene?" asked Lauren.

   "Yes, Mistress."

   Janet felt the sting of a riding crop across her back.

   "Yes, Mistress Lauren," cried Janet.

   "That's better.  Sabrina; outfit her in collar and bracelets.  We'll see
what this poseur is really made of," ordered Lauren.

   Janet sat silently as a collar was measured and locked around her neck.
Her wrists and ankles were soon locked in steel and leather, and she was
finally attired like that of a slave once again.

   Lauren had changed into a leather dress, and her guests, including
Tiffany, still sat in their chairs.  Before, it had Myra who had been the
entertainment.  Now it would be Janet's turn.

   "Up, slave," ordered Lauren.

   Janet watched as Sabrina had led Myra away, hopefully to get cleaned up
and rested.  The girl needed some relief from her torment, not any
additional punishment!

   Janet stood impassively as her wrists were locked above her head. 
Sabrina had returned, and it was her job to secure Janet's ankles to a
spreader bar.  Soon, Janet found herself in the same position as Myra
before.

   "I think that the only instrument to use is the one that was used on
Myra," observed Lauren.

   Lauren procured the whip, snapping it in the air for all to see.  The
whip cracked with deadly effect like a gunshot in the Dungeon.

   "Are you ready, slave?" asked Lauren.

   "Yes, Mistress Lauren.  Please discipline me in place of Myra?" asked
Janet.

   "Kiss the handle," bluntly ordered Lauren, ice in her voice.

   Janet did as she was ordered.  She tensed as Lauren coiled the whip,
afraid for herself in a way that she had never been with either Erica or
Stephanie.

   "Owwww!" cried Janet.

   "Owwww!"

   "Owwww!"

   The slender black leather whip, supple and sinuous, was cracked like a
gunshot.  It wrapped itself around Janet the tip coming to rest with a
force that Janet had forgotten.

   "Now Janet, we'll just see who's the better Mistress, or slave.  You
said earlier about someone being in control.  Now that's me in control over
you.  As it should be.  Enjoy your punishment, slave."

   "Owwww!"

   "Owwww!"

   No matter how many times the whip wrapped itself her, Janet refused to
either cry for mercy or to acknowledge Lauren's will over her.  She
flinched and pulled in her stomach every time the whip landed there or
between her legs.  Lauren wanted to mark her skin, and used the thin whip
with deadly effectiveness again and again.

   Janet felt her skin slowly heat up as the blood flowed to the surface in
an attempt to cool off her overheated body.  Her sweat ran down her armpits
and between her breasts, and down her exposed flanks.

   "Owwww!"

   "Owwww!"

   "Owwww!"

   Janet counted another series of ten strokes, her pained shoulders and
wrists bearing her weight as she swung from the ceiling.  It seemed as if
the universe had shrunk to just two people, just Lauren and herself.  There
was nothing else except for the universe of pain as the whip landed once
again.

   She knew that tears were now flowing, and she could taste their
saltiness as they sometimes ran into her mouth.  Janet had never been
brought this far, either by Erica or Stephanie.

   "Had enough, slave?" asked Lauren.

   "No, Mistress Lauren," answered Janet.

   "Good.  Then I'll see what else I have in my toybox."

   Janet was glad for the temporary respite.  Even though she knew that
Lauren was going to use something else on her, even a few seconds without
the whip was precious.

   Lauren returned with a riding crop with a special broad tip.  She flexed
it with her fingers, showing its stiffness.

   "Ready?" asked Lauren.

   "Yes, Mistress Lauren."

   Lauren first struck at her tender breasts, making Janet cry out.  Then
she used it on her behind, making her recoil in pain.  But Janet knew that
Lauren was only warming up, that she was pacing Janet's ability to absorb
the lash.

   "Kiss the crop," ordered Lauren.

   "Thank you, Mistress Lauren," repeated Janet as obeyed Lauren's orders.

   The final use of the crop was between Janet's legs, on the inside of her
thighs.  Janet moaned and strained as the crop was struck from side to side
like a metronome between her legs.  Sometimes, the crop would strike her
sex, making her cry out even more.  But Janet held her plea for mercy,
digging her nails into her moist palms.

   "You are quite remarkable," said Lauren, "for someone who hasn't been
trained by me.  Therefore, I shall put you to the final test.  I shall whip
you again until I draw blood."

   Janet's head rose in shock, just in time for Lauren to force a ballgag
between her lips and buckle it tight.

   "Mmmmmph," cried Janet.

   "The time that you could have called for mercy is over," said Lauren,
"now you shall feel the full force of my lash."

   Suddenly, Janet remembered the warning that Mistress Erica had given her
over one year ago when she had been disciplined for the first time as a new
slave.  That she should never submit to a Mistress who did not recognize
the concept of a safeword.  Even though her body was already warmed up by
the harsh punishment that she had already received, her blood suddenly ran
cold in her veins from fear.

   When the whip struck again, it was like an explosive force going off
onto her skin.  Waves and waves of pain shot through her entire body, and
it didn't matter where the whip landed.  Each stroke was like a crack of
doom against her naked flesh.

   But it was her back where the whip expended its full force.  Janet
vainly tried to avoid the whip as it struck her back repeatedly.  Finally
the universe blacked out, as she fell into a bottomless pit of darkness.

   * * * * *

   "Mistress Janet?"

   The tender voice was one that Janet didn't recognize.  It was calling
her name, or was it?

   "Mistress Janet, please wake up?"

   "Where am I?" groggily asked Janet.

   She was lying naked face down on a bed, and two women were attending to
her back, which she couldn't feel.

   "You're in Lauren's house, remember.  You took my place, remember?  I'm
Myra," said the girl.

   "Myra," repeated Janet.

   The name brought back the memory of the early evening, a game, Rene's
slave.

   "Owwww!" cried Janet, when feeling suddenly returned to her back.

   "I've stopped the bleeding, but only temporarily," said Sabrina, "but
she has to see a doctor before those wounds open up again."

   "Bring my purse," cried Janet still dazed from the ordeal she had
endured.

   One of the girls brought Janet her purse, and she removed the cell
phone, spots dancing before her eyes.  Janet punched in the memory number
for Stephanie, then was glad when she heard a familiar voice on the other
end.

   "Stephanie?" Janet asked.

   "Janet?" answered Stephanie.

   "Stephanie, bring your doctors bag to my house right away, and anything
else that you can carry."

   "What's happened?"

   "I've been badly hurt," cried Janet.

   "What!"

   "Can't talk now, see you soon," Janet answered as she cut the
connection.

   Janet stood up, and the two girls helped her put her panties and shoes
on, leaving off her bra.  Janet felt the presence of bandages and tape on
her back.  They then helped to button her blouse, and skirt.  Buttoning her
coat brought waves of agony throughout her entire body.

   "Where's Tiffany?" asked Janet.

   "Gone.  They're all gone.  You have to drive yourself home," said Myra.

   Janet felt like she would pass out, but the two slaves held her. 
Lauren's slaves.  They helped her outside, and got the keys from her purse.
Dawn was breaking.  Had she really been there the entire night?  The cold
air suddenly made her alert and awake, at least temporarily.

   When she was seated behind the wheel, Myra opened the window before
closing the door.  She looked at the pained Mistress.

   "Mistress Janet, thank you for taking my place.  You're a different sort
of Mistress than Lauren and her friends, and I'd love to be your slave."

   "Thank you," chattered Janet.

   "Just make it home, please?"

   Janet started the car, put it in drive, and swung around the fountain.
The gate opened, and she drove out into the cold and deserted streets. 
Dazed, confused, on the verge of blacking out several times, it seemed like
the drive took several hours.

   The physical demands of driving took their toll, and Janet nodded off to
sleep, only to be awakened when the car's right front fender impacted
against a tree.  Janet was thrown backwards, awakening her, and the car
came to a sudden stop.

   "Oh, god!" Janet cried aloud, "I'm going to die."

   Janet could feel the wetness of blood dripping down her blouse into her
panties, and the slickness of her blouse against her back.  She gripped the
steering wheel tightly, tears flowing from the corners of her eyes.

   She rested her head against the steering wheel, only wanting to sleep,
for a release from the pain that she suffered.  It would be so easy just to
give up, to die.

   Janet nodded off, the agony of her ordeal finally taking its toll as she
closed her eyes.

   'Janet?'

   'Erica?  Is that you?'

   'Janet, go home and live!'

   'I can't, Erica.  I don't have the strength.'

   'Janet, this is an order from your Mistress.  Return home!'

   'I want to die Erica.  I'm sorry.'

   'Janet, you have never disobeyed me.  Don't start now.  This is an
order, summon your strength and live.  Go home.  If you die Tiffany and
Lauren are the winners.  If you do that, then you will have disappointed
me.'

   'Yes, Mistress.'

   Janet opened her eyes, blinking away the tears.  She rubbed her eyes,
dazed and confused.  Has she really been talking to Erica?  Or was it just
a dream?

   "I won't fail you Erica," Janet said to herself, even though she was in
intense pain.

   Gathering her strength Janet put the car back in drive, and aimed the
wheels back again out into the street.  The car's bodywork was damaged, but
not the drivetrain or steering.  Janet continued on her way home.

   Finally, she saw the gates to her house.  She punched the button, and
the gates opened.  She followed the driveway to the door, and turned the
ignition off.  Her head swimming, she walked up the steps, her
consciousness fading in and out.

   The door opened, and the bright lights dazzled Janet as she went inside
her own house.  What was the name of the person now before her?

   "Mistress Janet?" asked the girl, "let me take your coat."

   When her coat was removed, it peeled away from the back of her blouse
with a liquid sound as the fabrics separated.  Looking sideways at the
mirror in the foyer, she saw that the back of her blouse was soaked through
with her own red blood.

   "Stephanie!  Stephanie!"

   Janet fell into the abyss, her head swaying and the welcoming darkness
swallowing her.

   * * * * *

   "Janet?" asked a soothing voice, "Janet?"

   "Mommy?"

   "What's wrong?" asked a female voice.

   "Mommy, it hurts," cried Janet.

   "She's delirious, with a fever at 105.  If it doesn't break soon, we'll
have to take her to the hospital.  Tina, hold her hand.  Janet needs to
feel that there's someone nearby who cares for her right now," said another
voice.

   Tina pulled a chair to the bedside and after seating herself, she held
Janet's right hand.

   "Why is she asking for her mother?"

   "That's the first person that someone will ask for when very sick or
horribly injured.  You should have heard the adults crying for their mother
in the trauma ward I interned in."

   "Mommy?" asked Janet.

   "No, it's Stephanie.  Remember?"

   Janet climbed slowly back to consciousness.  She was in a bedroom, and
there were three women present.  She didn't know any of them.

   "Who are you?" asked Janet.

   "Your friend, Stephanie.  Don't you remember that you called me?  This
is Camille, and your Maid, Tina.  Do you know us?"

   Janet searched her mind, but she couldn't remember any of the women
standing over her.  Her whole body was warm, like it was on fire.  A cup
and straw were passed to her, and she drank a few sips before going back to
sleep.

   Light.  Again, Janet opened her eyes, and saw three people standing over
her.  Janet wavered in and out of consciousness, her vision blurred and out
of focus.

   "Janet?  Do you remember the last time we spoke?"

   "No.  Thirsty."

   The cup was passed to her again and she drank a few sips, and she heard
the others talking.  Something about fever and delirium, before she fell
asleep once more.

   Light.  When she opened her eyes again, things in the room resolved
themselves.  She identified the bed she was lying on, a mirror, a dresser
that was covered in bottles, and things attached to her.  The regular
rhythm of a heart monitor and the tubes of an IV were her constant
companions.

   "Stephanie," called Janet.

   "Janet, you're back, the fever broke!" said Stephanie, tears in her
eyes.

   Janet saw Stephanie standing over her, with Tina, her eyes streaked with
tears, sitting on a chair next to her bedside.  Tina was holding her hand,
stroking it like it was a lover's.

   "Tina?" asked Janet.

   "She's been here ever since you got home, at your side," said Stephanie.

   "Thank you, Tina," Janet said weakly.

   "What happened?" asked Stephanie.

   "Party at Lauren's.  I was using Myra, one of Lauren's girls, I think.
She asked for mercy, Lauren wanted to continue.  I took her place.  She
used me badly, said that I would call for mercy.  I never did.  She wanted
me to bleed.  I drove home, and that's all I remember."

   "Why did you go?  She hated Erica, and me.  She's taken over Tiffany,
who popped in here once or twice to see you before leaving.  I should kill
them both," said Stephanie.

   "Thirsty."

   Janet was passed a cup, and she sipped at the straw.

   "How bad?"

   "You were delirious for days, with a high fever.  I was afraid that I
was going to lose you, you might have died.  You lost a lot of blood, but
you'll be all right.  I had this equipment brought over, and called in a
few favors," said Stephanie.

   "Thank you," Janet answered.

   "What happened, why did you take Myra's place?" asked Stephanie.

   "Myra called mercy, and Lauren wanted to use her past her safeword.  So
I took her place.  There isn't anything that we can do to Lauren," said
Janet.

   "Why didn't you call me first?" asked Stephanie.

   "Don't remember."

   "Don't tax yourself.  Let's get some broth into you, and then more
sleep. That's the best thing for you," said Stephanie.

   After a cup of beef broth, Janet again slept.  She dreamt of the lash,
and the crop.  Several times she awakened to see Stephanie standing over
her.  Then she fell asleep again.

   First the heart monitor was removed, then the IV tubes.  Janet realized
that she had been lying on the bed clothed in a hospital gown, face down.
Her back was covered in an entire bandage, which was changed twice daily.
Either Camille or Tina would be with her constantly, holding her hand.

   Then she was stood up and made to walk.  Soon, she was eating simple
foods from a tray, but she still slept on her stomach.  A few times,
Tiffany would visit, but Janet pretended to be sleeping.

   "Stephanie?" asked Janet.

   "Yes?"

   "Why did you quit being a doctor?" asked Janet.

   "Because I blame doctors for killing the two most important people in my
life.  My brother, and my husband.  I retired, but I still keep certified.
Even do some charity work.  But I'll never practice again."

   Janet again slept.

   The loud voices came from next door, and Janet could make out the words.

   "Lauren nearly killed her.  What were you doing?"

   "She accepted to take Myra's place.  She knew what kind of person Lauren
is."

   "What was she doing there?"

   "There was a party.  I took her.  She should have refused."

   "This is all your doing, Tiffany.  I never knew that you were capable of
such evil, but since you associate with Lauren, I'm not surprised."

   Darkness returned to Janet as she again slept.

   Janet walked out of the bedroom, a victory.  A physical therapist was
called in, and Janet's muscles were exercised.  Gradually, she recovered.

   One day, Janet pretended to sleep on the bed.  She was on her stomach as
usual, and she could be left alone for brief periods.  Tina had resumed her
duties, and Tiffany would be absent as long as Stephanie was caring for
Janet.

   "Aren't you forgetting something, Mistress?" asked Camille.

   "What's that?"

   "Janet's state of mind," bluntly stated Camille.

   "Don't exceed your authority," angrily replied Stephanie, "and forget
that you're my Maid."

   "Maid and Nurse, you mean.  Just because you sewed up Janet's back
doesn't mean that her mind will be healed also."

   "I should strike you for that, Camille," Stephanie answered.

   "Unless you're a psychologist also, I suggest that you call one in."

   "Are you now a doctor also?" asked Stephanie.

   "No.  You may have repaired her bodily wounds.  But the experience of
being nearly whipped to death by Lauren will leave wounds in her psyche."

   "You're an insolent, insulting little slave today, Camille. 
Unfortunately, you're also right," sighed Stephanie, "I just hope that
Janet can recover."

   Janet closed her hands into fists, her fingers tightly clenched
together. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving red marks with their
imprints.  Even though she had been pretending to sleep, tears formed in
her eyes and wet the pillow.

   'Why do I want to die?' Janet cried silently to herself.

   * * * * *

   The days after her nightmare encounter with Mistress Lauren stretched
into weeks.  Stephanie attended to Janet, and the bandages on her back got
steadily smaller as her flesh slowly healed from being damaged by the whip.

   "Janet," began Stephanie, "I'm sorry."

   "About what?" asked Janet.

   "Your back.  I thought that it would heal, but it didn't.  You're going
to be scarred by what Lauren did to you.  I tried everything that I could.
But the skin was too heavily damaged.  Perhaps I should have taken you to
the hospital after all."

   "And what would have happened when the police would have started asking
questions?  Explain that I was the entertainment at a little S&M party?  No
doctor would have remained silent about my injuries after you'd have
brought me in.  My life as a Mistress would have been over."

   "Then look at yourself," said Stephanie.

   Janet rose from the bed and stood in front of the bedroom mirror, while
Stephanie undid the ties at the back of Janet's gown.  It fell to the
floor, and Stephanie held a mirror near Janet's back so she could see. 
Janet saw the reflection of her own back in the large mirror.

   Where once Janet's back was smooth and pretty, now the skin was an angry
red color.  The flesh was torn and uneven and had not healed properly. 
Anyone who saw her back would know that she had been abused horribly in
some manner.

   "Thank you, Stephanie," said Janet, her voice breaking with tension.

   Stephanie caught Janet as she fell to the bed, naked and sobbing.  She
held and soothed her friend, encouraging her to cry out all of her
feelings.

   "There now," said Stephanie.  "It's all right.  I'm here."

   "It hurt so much!  The pain!"

   Tears fell from her eyes and ran down her cheeks as the memory of what
had happened to her replayed itself in her mind.  Every stroke of the whip
had been like a gunshot exploding against her back, and she felt as her
skin broke and blood dripped down her naked skin.  She had actually felt
her own blood seep between her buttocks and run down her legs.

   "Cry it out Janet," soothed Stephanie, "don't repress your feelings. 
I'll always be here for you."

   "It didn't stop!  It just went on and on!" Janet sobbed, her body
wracked by emotions long repressed.

   Stephanie held Janet tightly in her arms, rocking Janet as if she were a
child.

   "It's all right to cry.  No Mistress or slave should have had to endure
what you did, that isn't what being a Mistress is about.  We're not here to
kill or maim."

   "I wanted to die!" cried Janet.

   "It's all right, Janet.  Everything's all right, now," soothed Stephanie
as she clutched Janet tightly to herself, as Janet continued to cry.

   The memory of what she had undergone replayed itself in her mind.  Janet
remembered each stroke of the whip as it struck her back.  Her skin
breaking and bleeding, the liquid sound the whip made each time it struck
the slick surface that her back had become.  The tears that fell from her
eyes as the pain became steadily unbearable.  Desperately she tried to
scream and plead for mercy, but the rubber ball buckled between her lips
blocked her cries.  Finally, the welcoming darkness that she hoped was
death, which would release her from the pain, and the leering face of
Mistress Lauren.

   "I wanted to die!" repeated Janet, tears streaming down her cheeks.

   "It's all over now, Janet," said Stephanie as she clutched Janet tightly
to herself.

   Janet curled up in Stephanie's arms, tears flowing from her eyes.  She
cried for hours, and Stephanie held onto Janet, not moving, for most of the
day.

   * * * *

   Janet walked with Stephanie through the Dungeon.  She looked at the
chains, the whips, and the other things.  She placed a collar around her
neck, but didn't lock it shut.  Janet shivered when she saw the whip.

   "There is a big difference between discipline and being stopped with a
safeword, and outright sadism which is what Lauren practices.  Just
remember than Erica never treated you or anyone else like that."

   "Yes, I remember."

   "Do you want to be a Mistress again?"

   "Yes," said Janet firmly, "yes."

   "That's your destiny, you know.  That's why Erica gave you her estate
and her property.  You can start with Tina, your slave.  Or me, if you'd
like."

   "Thank you," said Janet, as she held a riding crop in her hands.

   "Janet, I have a confession to make," said Stephanie.

   "Go ahead," answered Janet as she sat down on a leather-covered bench,
one that she had been bound upon by Erica.

   "Do you remember when Erica sent you to my house?"

   "How can I forget?  You placed me on the rack," Janet answered.

   "That's what I have to tell you about.  Erica left me very specific
instructions what I was allowed, and not allowed, to do with you.  I was
not allowed to place you on the rack.  But in the heat of the moment, in my
sexual excitement, I forgot her orders," recalled Stephanie.

   "What happened?" asked Janet, fascinated.

   "Erica was furious with me.  I never saw her so angry before, she raged
at me, and said I would be the one to blame if you left serving Erica, if
you stopped wanting to be her slave.  She wanted to take me down to my own
Dungeon and use me until I cried for mercy, but she never did."

   'Perhaps because she was busy doing something else, Stephanie,' Janet
thought, 'Like arranging her own death, and the competition between Tiffany
and myself.'

   "I liked you from the first time I used you, Janet.  You took all of the
discipline that I meted out, and never complained," Stephanie continued.

   "Thank you, Stephanie."

   Stephanie rose from the bench and dropped to her knees in front of
Janet, who was speechless.

   "Use me, Janet.  Just as Erica wanted to.  I'll submit to anything that
you desire anything at all.  Even if you draw blood, I won't beg for
mercy."

   "There's no need for that, Stephanie.  I fell in love with you, and
Erica disciplined me harshly when I returned.  You performed as any
Mistress would with a new slave, and you didn't hurt me.  Lauren did."

   "Thank you, Janet."

   "Thank you for being my friend, Stephanie.  I wouldn't have known what
to do from Day One as a Mistress without your help.  And thank you for
saving my life.  I would have died without you," said Janet as she choked
back tears.

   "Are you all right?" asked Stephanie as she rose and hugged Janet.

   "I'm fine, thank you.  I'd just like to be alone here."

   "No Janet, you shouldn't be alone," cautioned Stephanie.

   "Just for a little while," Janet answered.

   "I'll wait outside, on the steps," said Stephanie.

   As she was leaving, Stephanie saw Janet rise and pick up a framed
picture of Erica, hugging it to her body.  Stephanie left the door slightly
open, and sat down to wait.  She heard quiet sobs, but remained outside.

   After almost an hour, the door finally opened, and Janet exited the
Dungeon.

   "Are you all right?" asked Stephanie.

   "I'm fine," Janet answered.

   "What's next?"

   "How's the stock market doing?" Janet asked.

   "What?" replied Stephanie, puzzlement clearly evident on her face, as
they ascended the stairs together.



   The End of Chapter Nine Part Two








   

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