Time After Time (C) dino, 2003
= Part 1 =
A tiny speck of silicon received an excess of electrons, forcing a change of
state on the output bit. The timer chip mercifully timed out, cutting the power
to the relay, which, in turn, shut off the power to the cylindrical vibrator
that was clamped between Judy's legs and pressed against her sex. The vibrations
abruptly ceased. Judy's breath hitched in her throat, while her thighs trembled
with the strain of holding the vibrator in place. Her mind still spun from the
force of her last crashing cum.
A few moments passed before Judy's low moaning ended. Her tense muscles began to
relax, and her breathing slowly evened out. A smile came to dry lips, and she
gave them a lick.
"Five minutes off, then three on," Judy thought to herself, now that she was
able to think again. Those were the timer settings that seemed to give the
desired results. Five minutes for her to get herself `in the mood'. Then three
minutes of direct clitoral/genital stimulation from that crazy vibrator. "That
works!" she said aloud.
Reaching across her bed, Judy grabbed the towel she'd left out to wipe herself,
down there, and to clean her juices off the dildo. The chain of the handcuffs
locked around her wrists tinkled with her movements. As she cleaned up, line of
redness across one wrist caught her eye and she frowned. She turned her other
hand over and saw the matching line: marks on her skin from her straining
against the cuffs steely grasp.
Judy swung her legs over the side of the bed to sit up. It took seven steps for
her to cross her bedroom, to the dresser, where she'd left her keys. While it
would normally be three steps, the shackles she had locked on her ankles had a
shortened chain that limited each step to about twelve inches. The shackles, and
the cuffs, had been a parting gift to her from a former boyfriend. A cop.
Judy fumbled as she matched the key up with the keyhole on her left cuff. The
cuffs and shackles weren't the usual shiny silver ones, but were black in
colour. The dark finish made it even harder to get the key into the hole. But
after a bit of fumbling, the key slid into its matching hole and she turned it.
Then, tipping her wrist, the cuff dropped open. Judy moved the key to the other
cuff and unlocked that one, then took the key out and set the handcuffs down on
top of her bureau. Bending down, the process was repeated on her ankle shackles.
Opening the middle drawer of her bureau, Judy moved aside some underwear to
place her restraints, along with the keys, in the far corner. She covered them
with a few pairs of her panties. She grinned, as she remembered what Steve, her
cop ex-boyfriend said, the first time he saw her do that.
"That's the first place people look, you know. In your underwear drawer."
Judy had thought of burglars, at the time, breaking into her apartment and
heading straight for her drawer of dainties. But cops also look through girls
underwear drawers sometimes. They could be looking for drugs, or guns, or other
evidence. Like, evidence of a deviant lifestyle, perhaps?
Judy noted the excess space in her drawer, and stared at the overflowing laundry
hamper in the corner. "Well," she thought, "what else does a single twenty-six
year old girl have to do on a Saturday night, when the phone hasn't rung all
day?" Moving to the window, Judy bent down to unplug the timer and the dildo
from the wall socket. Those went into the bottom drawer of her bureau.
Judy picked up her laundry basket and emptied it onto the bed. She began to sort
the clothes into piles: whites, colours, dry clean. While her hands were busy
with her task, her mind wandered back to those sometimes crazy days with Steve.
It had been four years since she and Steve broke up. Four years since he'd left
her, actually. They met when Judy worked as a waitress in a small coffee shop.
Steve had entered the shop once or twice, and soon enough, they both took a good
look at one another and things clicked. Judy didn't know it at the time, but
Steve was the type of man she'd been looking for all her life. Well, almost the
type.
Judy began serious dating in highschool, at the age of fifteen. At age sixteen,
she lost her virginity to a tall skinny lad, a year older than her, in the back
seat of his Mom's car. And so began a string of unfulfilling romances, that
lasted until she met what she thought of as a real man. Steve.
It takes a certain type of personality to become a police officer. And the
training they get tends to reinforce those characteristics. A cop has to be
strong willed. He needs to be able to walk into any sort of situation, and
immediately take charge. In an emergency, a cop is the one that people will look
to to lead them to safety. When a cop tells you to do something, it's usually a
good idea to follow his orders. Both for your safety in a crisis situation, and,
because when a cop tells you to do something, he usually isn't all that
interested in discussing it with you. Police officers give orders, and they
simply expect their orders to be obeyed. So therefore, many of them tend to
have, or tend to develop, a dominant personality.
Ever since Judy was a little girl, she'd always liked to be able to do things
for other people. It wasn't until she'd grown older that she found a certain
satisfaction in - not just helping others, but doing what others asked of her.
Following orders, as she later came to realize. Judy liked doing things that she
was told to do, and she liked it when it showed that her efforts were
appreciated.
Well Steve the cop certainly liked giving orders, thought Judy, as she bundled
her washing into a big plastic bag. She paused a moment to glance through the
window. The sun was just setting over the row of buildings to her left, and the
few clouds in the sky looked tinged with gold. And, she reminisced, he certainly
knew how to show his appreciation for a task well done."
Judy's bum settled onto the bed as she cast her thoughts back to her time with
Steve, and to one evening in particular.
It had been a Saturday, and Judy was doing some household chores at Steve's
apartment. Steve had been acting testy all day. Something to do with work, she'd
guessed. But by completing her tasks quietly and efficiently, she'd hoped to
draw his attention away from his problems.
Around four, Steve had ordered her to shower and dress for the evening in the
clothes she'd been told to bring. Judy put away the cleaning supplies she was
using on the bedroom windows, and took a quick shower.
Since it was warm out, she'd brought her black stretchy tube top that Steve
liked. Judy was blessed with those perfect kinds of breasts that make such a
simple garment stay in place, without a lot of tugging and adjusting. Added to
the top was a skirt, short and black, and made from a soft, and smoothly
flowing, cotton weave. Underneath the top and skirt, she wore no underwear, of
course.
Steve had asked her to bring black stockings, which she carefully rolled up one
leg, then the other. The night promised to be warm, but she would be permitted
to carry along a light sweater, in case it did get chilly later on. A pair of
strappy sandals with two inch heels completed her outfit. Judy stood for
inspection in the middle of Steve's livingroom.
"Nice. Very nice."
Judy demurely cast her gaze toward the floor. "Thank you, Sir."
Steve wore light gray casual pants, and a pale blue denim shirt with the top two
buttons open. Judy saw his dark curly chest hair peeking over the top, and she'd
wanted so much to run her fingers through it. But there would be time, she knew,
later on. Time for that, and more.
Steve popped back into his bedroom for something. He returned with a light sport
jacket over his arm, then opened the front door for her. Downstairs they went,
to the parking garage and his Range Rover. Then off. Off into the city and
another adventure. Dates with Steve had been getting ever more adventurous
lately. So much so, that Judy had been starting to get worried. But each time
she'd needed him to be there, he was there for her. Then after, safely back at
his place, or hers, their passions would reach heights, ever higher.
Judy stood, picked up the bag with her washing inside, and went downstairs for
the walk to the corner and the Laundromat. But her thoughts stubbornly remained
on the past. Her past, and those sometimes terrifying, but nonetheless
thrilling, times with Steve.
Outside, on her street, the pavement was still warm from the afternoon sun. The
setting sun cast the shadows in an eerie reddish glow, in stark contrast to the
street corner, where its last rays thrust past the buildings to highlight the
bustle of people and cars moving toward their destinations. A group of teenage
boys approached her, all bluster and blow, but they didn't even notice her
except to give her a wide berth. Judy grinned once they'd passed, and headed
toward the corner with her bag of laundry, and a pocket full of change.
It had been an evening much like this one, she thought. The last of the sunlight
had flashed in her eyes as they drove along the Parkway, while the buildings and
the trees sped by. Steve had looked calmer, now that they were moving, she
supposed. She watched him for a minute, until he noticed her. He glanced her
way, and he flashed her that easy smile of his, and she knew that the evening
would be one to remember. Of course she'd had no way of knowing how memorable it
would really be.
The restaurant had been crowded, but they were shown to a booth off to one side.
Judy sat first, sliding in along the bench while Steve tipped the maitre d'.
Then he slipped in beside her. After the drinks were ordered and they arrived,
Steve reached into the pocket of his jacket for something. Judy remembered
hearing the sound, and she'd almost choked on her drink. She looked down into
Steve's hand and then froze.
The Laundromat was nearly empty. Judy picked out a machine. She had two loads to
do: one went into one washer, the other into the one beside it. She plugged in
the correct change, pushed both levers, and sat down.
She and Steve had played with his handcuffs and shackles before, but never in
such a crowded and public place as the restaurant was. "Lift up your foot," he
had commanded. And, of course, with almost no hesitation, Judy complied. A tiny
chill ran down her spine as she recalled the feel of the hard metal, when it
touched her nylon clad skin.
Steve hooked one leg shackle around her delicate ankle, and cupped his hands
around it to muffle the ratcheting sound as he closed it. "Other leg," he said.
The table had a central post, and Steve got the chain around it before closing
the shackle around her other ankle. Judy knew she wouldn't be going anywhere for
a while.
The restaurant hadn't been too brightly lit, and under the table was darker
still, so with the shackles and chain having that black anodized finish, and
them over her black stockings, they'd hardly be noticed by anyone. Judy heard
the clink of the handcuffs still in his pocket as Steve moved his jacket aside.
Then he picked up his drink, and flashed her a grin, and she fell into that
familiar feeling of being safe and secure while with him. Well, she remembered
thinking, secured, at least.
They both had the spaghetti and meatballs, and when the dessert came, vanilla
ice-cream with a splash of Kahlua over top, Steve reached for his jacket. Taking
one of Judy's hands, and the cuffs from the coat pocket, he moved her arm back
and her hand behind her. The restaurant was more noisy by then, and the rapid
fire staccato of the cuff closing was barely audible to her. Once again, with
her other hand, and Judy then needed some assistance in the eating of her
ice-cream.
Although she kept nervously looking around, no one else seemed to be paying any
attention to her. She'd turn to him as he'd bring a spoonful of ice-cream to her
lips. Then she'd get self conscious again, and her eyes would scan the room for
anyone that might have noticed a girl all chained up and being spoon fed.
Finally Steve had had enough. "Judy!" Her focus went to him. He fixed her with a
hard look that spoke volumes to her. Judy's deepest fear had always been being
seen by someone while she was in bondage. Though she enjoyed being chained up
and made helpless, she knew she'd be mortified in having someone see her like
that. Maybe they'd start laughing at her, or start making some kind of fuss over
her. To her, bondage was something personal and private. But with Steve, her
being in bondage was like a kind of sign, for others that may happen to notice,
that told of his mastery over her.
He lifted another spoonful of slightly melted ice-cream to her lips. Judy felt
that she'd best stop worrying if people were looking at her. She let her eyes
dip to the spoon and his hand, and with a grin that was only a bit forced, she
opened her mouth. From then on, Judy made a point of paying less attention to
the people around them, and more on the man she was with.
Once she'd finished having her dessert fed to her, Steve patted her lips with
the napkin. She leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. She tried hard
to push aside thoughts of everyone staring and sniggering at the girl sitting
there all chained up, and she leaned in close to Steve, her Master. He'd lift a
glass to her from time to time, so that she may sip some wine, or water, and
after a while the cheque came. Steve found his keys and tapped a finger on her
thigh. Judy lifted one leg, then the other, and the ankle shackles were quietly
returned to Steve's jacket pocket.
After paying the bill, Steve stood up. Judy looked up at him. Steve picked up
her sweater and held it for her. Judy soon realized that her hands weren't going
to be freed just yet, so she slid over on the bench toward him. Steve draped the
sweater around her shoulders, letting the sleeves hang, and he did up the top
button for her. He lightly took her arm as she stood.
Steve led the way, as Judy fell into step meekly behind. She tried hard not to
obsess over the fact she was walking past so many people with her hands securely
handcuffed behind her back. A trip and a fall would be disastrous, and extremely
embarrassing. But such things really rarely happen in real life. Why should she
stumble over something now? She was feeling quite vulnerable, though Steve was
right there with her. She was also feeling very exposed, despite the back of her
sweater that neatly hid her hands and the restraints locked around her wrists.
They reached the front of the restaurant without incident. Judy felt Steve's
hand on her arm, as he reached across her to grab a couple of mints from a bowl
on the front desk. Judy caught their reflection in the big mirror there. What
she saw was a nice looking girl standing beside a handsome man. The girl was
dressed in a cute little black outfit, and she stood proudly with her hands
clasped behind her while her gentleman friend popped a mint into his mouth. But
then Judy looked a little closer, and she saw that the girl had wide, scared
bunny rabbit eyes.
Steve's fingers were on her cheeks, turning her face toward him. He pushed a
candy past her lips while giving her another hard look. That look reminded her
who was in charge, and whose job it was merely to follow, and obey. Judy felt
her face soften as she relaxed a bit. She told herself that there was nothing
weird going on. She was safe while she was with Steve, she silently willed
herself to believe. She was Ok.
Outside in the parking lot, Steve opened the Rover's door for her. "Get in." His
tone told her that he was not pleased with her. Inside the vehicle he turned to
her, but it was only to fasten her seat belt around her. Judy squirmed around a
bit, to get her hands comfortable, but not too much. She knew she was expected
to sit there quietly until told otherwise.
They drove back across town, then down to the park by the river. Steve found a
quiet spot and stopped. He got out, then came around to open her door and help
her out. At the edge of the parking lot they stopped, and Steve reached into his
jacket pocket again.
Steve replaced the shackles on Judy's ankles. He took the handcuffs off, just
long enough for her to put on her sweater, then he refastened her hands behind
her back again. Then they started walking. Along the way, Steve started his
lecture.
It seemed that her conduct in the restaurant hadn't been up to his strict
standards. Her looking around and feeling self conscious over being chained up
in public had told him she still didn't trust him. "Did anyone see your bondage
and make an issue over it?" he'd asked. "No," she admitted. Though anyone could
have noticed at any time, she thought, but didn't say. And what if someone in
the restaurant started making a commotion over her being chained up? What if
they'd have called the cops? That thought brought a small smile to her lips.
Fortunately, in the dark, Steve didn't notice her smirking.
"I really thought you trusted me, Judy. I really thought we had something
special. But I guess I was wrong. I guess you're just not ready for the kind of
commitment that I'm looking for." Steve could be such a pompous ass at times.
Still, Judy wasn't ready to have it all end just yet. She had hoped that, in
time, his attitudes would mellow a bit. This master slave thing was often a lot
of fun. But no one can live full time like that. Right?
Judy caught herself staring at the man seated at the end of the row of washing
machines. He looked to be about middle aged, or older, and he was obviously
homeless, judging by the bundle buggy of bags and stuff beside him. He had
striped down to nearly nothing, likely because nearly every stitch he owned was
in the machine getting washed.
The man didn't see her watching him. He was reading a book. Judy recognized the
title from her college days. Mandatory reading. Plato's Republic. Judy gave her
head a tiny shake, and returned to the past.
They'd been seated on a park bench by the river, watching the moonlight being
reflected off the water. Judy had wanted nothing more than for Steve to bring
her back to his place, or her's, and for them to make wild love together. Then,
maybe in the morning, he would unlock her bonds and they'd spend a quiet Sunday
together doing something. But such was not to be.
"I have to go," he'd abruptly stated. "You can find your own way home."
And he stood to go. "But!" Judy remembered gasping, "What about these cuffs and
shackles?" "Keep 'em!" was the reply. And he was gone.
They'd played these sorts of games before: the damsel in distress, chained and
helpless. Lost in the wilds. One time it had been in a park like that one, and a
group of boys had approached her. She'd been chained to a tree then, one ankle
locked to it, and when the boys looked like they were going to get too close,
Steve had appeared right then to keep her secret safe. Other times too; she
could often sense him near, watching over her so that no harm would come to her
in her helpless state.
But this time, she remembered thinking, it was different. As she watched him go,
she'd had a sinking feeling that it was for real. There would be no one watching
over her and making sure she arrived home safely. She really was going to be
stuck, chained, and alone.
A shudder trickled down Judy's spine as she sat on the hard plastic Laundromat
chair. The washing machines changed gears - shifting into their rinse cycles.
Judy had sat on that park bench by the river for over an hour, thinking that
perhaps it was only another of his silly tests, and that he'd soon return. He'd
bring her flowers - or flowery words at least - and they'd have their night of
pleasure after all. But then, reluctantly, with the moon tracking toward the
western horizon and the sounds of the city winding down for the night, Judy had
come to realize that she had just been dumped. And in a most inauspicious way.
Tentatively she had tested the cuffs to see if she could have slipped her hands
out of them. But naturally Steve, being a cop and all, had made sure that such
an easy escape would be impossible. Then Judy stretched out her legs and looked
down at the shackles and chain. In the dark they wouldn't be seen by someone
right off. But the rattle of the chain would be heard if she was walking, and
with it being so short, walking home from the park would take forever. Still, it
was pretty certain that Steve wasn't coming back for her. And even if this was
all some kind of test, and he was somewhere nearby, waiting for her, she figured
she'd better at least make some kind of a start on following his last order.
Judy stood up. She turned toward home and started slowly walking. Anyone seeing
her, she thought, would think her drunk, or stoned, shuffling slowly through a
dark urban park in the middle of the night. Until they got closer, that is, and
noticed the handcuffs and shackles on her. Then what? Judy hadn't wanted to
think too much about that. Would the person have helped her? Or would they have
seen it as a chance to have a little fun with a helpless and defenseless young
girl. While the city was relatively safe, there were always those who'd likely
try and rob her, or worse.
Judy made it back to the empty parking lot. Looking around, there wasn't another
soul in sight. Steve could still have been nearby though, watching over her,
watching her. Judy looked down at her feet again. In the lights of the parking
lot, the black shackles on her ankles were only slightly visible against her
stockings. She knew though, that the handcuffs - also black anodized - would be
quite noticeable around her wrists and against the light gray of her sweater.
She'd tried tugging the slightly too short sleeves down to hide the cuffs, but
that had only pulled the sweater down off her shoulders and made it tight across
her boobs. She could get her hands under the back of the sweater though, and as
she set out across the parking lot, she hoped that the cuffs around her wrists
were hidden.
Beyond the entrance to the parking lot lay the bustle of the city. Even at that
late hour, buses and taxis carried people to and fro. If Judy had some money
with her, she could take a cab home. It might get difficult or embarrassing when
it came time to pay, with her hands locked behind her, but at least she'd get
home. But as it was, Steve never let her carry money when they went out. That
had been just one more way he used to secure his control over her.
Judy made it through the parking lot, to the short road that led in from the
main street. Then she froze. Turning in from the street was a group of four
young men, heading toward her. It was too late to hide; they'd seen her. Judy's
heart started doing flip flops inside her chest.
Many times while playing these games, Steve had told her not to overreact if
something happened. "So what if someone sees you in bondage. Why care what some
stranger thinks?" He'd also told her not to show fear, too. "Never let 'em see
you sweat." That was cop training, she'd thought, but still. What other options
were open to her?
Judy brought her feet together with the chain mostly hidden between them. She
stood still, with her head held high, and tried to be not looking at anything in
particular. She looked past the group of men coming at her, as though she was
waiting for someone else coming in off the street. A wisp of hair blew across
one eye, but there was nothing she could have done about that. She held onto the
back of her sweater to hide the handcuffs, and she tried to give the impression
of calmly waiting.
The four men closed the distance, but they weren't being threatening toward her.
They all had looked at her, but she hadn't spared them a glance. It had only
been when one of them made a half-hearted cat call, that she'd shot out a heavy
lidded glare that had them quickly turning and going on their way. Judy then
turned slightly in their direction, so if one of them had glanced back, he
wouldn't have noticed the handcuffs.
When the men had gone, Judy let out a breath and leaned against a railing.
Although she'd been chained, helpless, powerless to stop any attack on her
person, she'd managed to mount an effective defense, simply by putting on a
false air of bravado. Steve had been right. If you look like you're scared, or
are trying to hide something, people tend to pick up on that and then they want
to know more. But if you act bored or uninterested, people leave you alone.
That's what he'd been trying to get her to understand.
Judy then quickly looked up, scanning the trees and bushes around her. Now that
she'd learned a lesson from this, she felt certain that Steve was nearby, ready
to show up and take her home. Judy started moving again, making her slow
shuffling way toward the street. Once there, she looked left and right,
searching the few parked cars for Steve's Range Rover. But she saw no such
vehicle.
Near a bus stop there were a few benches, so Judy sat on one. She tucked her
feet under the bench, so that the shackles weren't so visible, and she waited.
She waited for what seemed like over an hour, but Steve never showed up. No
knight in shining armour had appeared to rescue her and take her safely home. It
began to dawn on her that Steve had meant it. He'd really had enough of her, and
her unwillingness to place her full trust in him.
The noise of a bus pulling up to the stop broke into her thoughts. An elderly
lady got off, and then Judy noticed the driver staring at her. At first she
thought he had seen her bondage, and was about to say something to her about it.
A few other people on the bus seemed to be staring at her too, and, like always,
Judy had thought she was about to die of embarrassment. But then she quickly
realized that the driver was only waiting to see if she wanted to get on.
That particular bus would have taken her very close to home. But even if she'd
had the exact change, putting it into the fare box with her hands locked behind
her would surely have drawn unwanted attention. And even so, her short ankle
chain would likely have made climbing that first step up into the bus
impossible. After a pause, the driver had closed the door and driven away,
leaving Judy to sit there alone.
Judy then looked up and down the street. There was no one around her, so she
brought her feet out from under the bench to stretch her legs. She looked down
and spread her feet to the limit of the chain. And then, there, on the pavement
between her feet, she saw a quarter. It had been just lying there, all bright
and shiny with hope, and it gave Judy an idea.
Judy knew her close friend, Susan, from their college days. Although they hadn't
spoken for a while, Judy knew the girl's phone number. And as luck would have
it, there were a couple of pay phones just down the street. Judy could call her
friend, who'd been her safety net during her days of early self bondage
experiments, and, if she was home, she could come and pick her up.
There was still no one around to see her, so Judy got off the bench. She
squatted down to try and pick up the coin, but her fingertips couldn't reach it.
She had no choice but to sit down on the pavement, and feel around behind her
until she had the coin in her hand. The cement was cool under her bare bum, and
once she managed to pick up the coin it was a struggle to get up on her feet
again. Finally, quarter in hand, Judy started walking toward the pay phones.
The phone was mounted too high, so her hands ended up being useless. She
shouldered the receiver off its hook. She lay the quarter down on the little
shelf underneath, then turned around, bent down, and got the coin between her
lips. Trying not to think about the germs she was catching, she lined the
quarter up with the coin slot on the phone and she pushed it in with her tongue.
Because she'd had to use her nose, Judy literally paid close attention to the
buttons she was pushing. Getting a wrong number would have meant she would lose
her quarter, and she'd have to go searching for another. After she'd pressed the
last number, she struggled with her shoulder and chin to get the receiver close
to her face. Then she heard it start ringing.
If Sue had had an answering machine, Judy would have been screwed. It was the
middle of the night. Sue wouldn't check her messages until morning, if then.
That would leave Judy sitting waiting for a friend that may never show up. And
in daylight, Judy and her bondage would surely have been noticed. The phone rang
three times. Four times. Five. Judy started to have hope. An answering machine
would have picked up by then.
The phone rang and rang. With each ring, Judy's heart sank a little lower. She
dare not move, because the receiver was slipping off her shoulder. Eleven.
Twelve. Fifteen. Susan was really her only hope, at that point. Finally, Judy
heard a click, and a very groggy girl's voice answered.
"Hell . . . lo?"
"Yes. Is that you, Sue?"
". . . Yeah . . . . Who . . . ?"
Judy was able to breathe a great sigh of relief. "Sue, it's Judy. Remember how I
use to ask you to be around when I'd do self bondage? Well; it's like this . .
."
Judy told Sue about Steve, and about her current predicament. So half an hour
later, a cab pulled up beside the bus stop near the park entrance, and Sue got
out to help her friend inside. Then, it was a twenty minute ride back to Sue's
apartment.
Upstairs, Judy helped her friend search for a handcuff key that Sue knew she had
around someplace. When they found it, inside a drawer in the kitchen, Sue helped
get the cuffs and shackles off Judy. Then they sat down over a pot of tea.
"You have to dump him, Judy," her friend had told her. "After doing that to you?
Abandoning you like that? Lose the creep."
But Judy had already known it was over. Steve was always a stickler for having
his orders obeyed, no matter how dumb they seemed to be. His last words to her
had been, "Find your own way home." Getting her friend to help her, surely would
have been seen as yet another breach of his stupid rules.
Judy looked down, and she realized she'd been rubbing the marks on her wrists.
The marks made by the handcuffs just a few hours ago, when she had masturbated
with her vibrator. Looking up, she noticed that the homeless man in his
underwear was now sitting by the dryers. Judy saw that her two machines were
stopped, so she got up and started unloading them. Both loads would fit in one
dryer, so she carried everything over to one, fed in the coins, and started the
machine. She glanced down the row, and saw that the man was writing in a worn
notebook while referring to the text of the philosophy book. Judy gave her head
a tiny shake.
Feeling the need for a coffee, Judy left the Laundromat to go across the street
to the Starbucks. Inside, the place smelled of coffee, and cinnamon, and other
yummy things. Judy passed by a few booths, and at the counter she ordered a
large regular.
When she reached for the paper cup of coffee, she again noticed the red mark on
her wrist. On the way out, she turned her other hand as she pushed open the
door, to gaze at the matching line on her other wrist. Judy grinned, but
something to her right caught her eye. A man was sitting alone at a booth by the
door. He was dressed nicely in a three-piece suit, with the jacket neatly hung
over the chair beside him. He had a newspaper open before him, and he'd been
making notes on some paper beside it. And his eyes were glued to the reddish
coloured lines on Judy's wrists.
The man's gaze leapt from her hands to her face, as she slipped past the door
and out. The man had the most lovely deep blue eyes that Judy had ever seen.
Back in the Laundromat, Judy sat in front of the dryer, set her coffee down
beside her, and let her mind soar off to fantasy land.
= End part 1 =
