"Melissa, what wrong? Why you scream? You makemother scared."Melissa, in dim recognition, realized that this was her mother, andthat she needed to fig...re out what was going on. Rather than going intoit, she decided to play along for the time being. "No, I fine. Preaselet me get dress, and I go school."As her mother shook her head and left, Melissa couldn't believe it. Shetried testing her voice. "Herro. My name is Merrisa. No, my name isMerrisa. Merrisa! Merissa!" What was wrong? Why the hell. "Except for the piano and the leftover Turandot set the stage was empty when I walked on. But only the overhead lights were on, no spots, and I could see out into the house where Camilla was talking to three guys in suits. She waved me out, and I went round by the side where I could walk down.She introduced me around, and we all shook hands, but I could tell it was pretty perfunctory on their part; they weren't, obviously, expecting much. Well, time would tell about that, it didn't worry me. I knew it wouldn'thelp; all I could do was to get through tonight and then figure out aplan to get of the indescribable mess I was in.I looked down at the clothes arranged on the black silky sheets. A'special request' Carmel had said; what the fuck? Resignedly I startedto dress.First I open the package of hosiery. It contained a pair of white, sheerto the waist pantyhose. As I slid the sheer nylon up my legs thoselittle electric sparks of delight again ran through me. I hated myselffor enjoying. She agreed to keep her phone under her skirt, pressed against her clit all day. After awhile, she got pretty good at not reacting so that anyone but me would notice. But I could see the slight stiffening of her posture, or a momentary pause in her typing. Once, I heard a coworker come in to start chatting with her, and I quickly sent a text. She didn't bat an eyelid, though I saw her reach over to grip the edge of her desk, and when her coworker left, she glared at me. I sent her three texts in.
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