Maid Therapy

By Roslyn Storm

Jake was losing hope that he might ever find someone that understood his unorthodox desires. Freshly-single, and nearing the point of giving up on finding that special someone, a voice from his distant past contacts him. In need of a place to stay, his old friend offers to clean his house as a form of rent, and an overly-curious Bridget discovers his embarrassing secret. He hasn't a clue that her curiosity and unspoken love could be the answer to his prayers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roslyn Storm
• Release date: Jun 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463142097

Book preview

Maid Therapy

Published by Roslyn Storm at Smashwords

Copyright 2018 Roslyn Storm

Thank you to my spouse, for believing in me, and keeping me going.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,

please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did

not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your

favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard

work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter One

Jake Michaels has gone from ‘In a Relationship’ to ‘Single’.

Jake stared at his new Facebook status. He couldn’t really say that he was upset—perhaps slightly down, but not upset. He hadn’t known Brittany long enough to actually lose any sleep over it. It was just…depressing. He wasn’t sad over the relationship ending, just that it seemed that he would never have one that really lasted. They always tended to end the same way.

His messenger pinged, and he winced. This would start the inevitable flood of I’m sorry messages and posts from online friends, not to mention the messages from the girls he knew from high school who treated him like crap when he was the class dork/nerd/geek, but suddenly all seemed to want to be his friend, now that he was successful. They never missed a chance to sniff around when he was single again. He wondered for the hundredth time why he accepted their friend requests in the first place as he braced himself, and clicked the notification to see which type of message this was.

Again? was the message from his longtime and closest friend, Dave.

Again, Jake replied, with no small amount of relief at who it was.

Same M.O.?

Sorta. This one had read some book written by a woman with only an evening news magazine familiarity with bondage, and was expecting the dude from that book, not..well..

You, finished Dave.

Me. When I wouldn’t tie her up and whip her, she stopped returning my calls as often, then not at all, then emailed me that ‘we should see other people’, Jake explained.

You’re not being judgmental, are you?

You know I’d be the last person to do that. No. She ‘just wanted to see what all this ess and em stuff was about . It sounds hot.’ Her words, not mine. I tried to explain about different things. She didn’t want to listen. Like I said…she’d read that stupid book, and thought that everybody that was into bondage was mister businessman with a houseful of handcuffs and whips.

You never let her tie you, did you? was Dave's question.

No. After those failed attempts at discussion, I couldn’t trust her not to injure me accidentally... or even deliberately. ‘sides..she had no interest in being on the giving end.

Ouch. I hate those kinds of books. Not only does it paint people who have a bit of kink as broken, or in need of a shrink, it means that everyone you meet that doesn’t have some knowledge under their belts is expecting you to be the guy on the cover. His type is a drop in very large bucket.

Preaching to the choir, dude, replied Jake.

"Well, take heart, kemo sabe. You know I’d tie you up any time you wanted. *grin*"

ha ha.

I would. Might not let you out, either. LOL

Dave, don’t.

You wouldn’t be able to move or speak for days…I might do all SORTS of horrible things to you. *evil grin* Dave joked.

Dave, STOP….please, Jake typed. Normally, his friend’s good-natured innuendo gave him a chuckle, but this time, it only made him feel worse.

Whoa, this one really bothered you, didn’t she?

No. Well…yeah…sorta, Jake typed. He had no sooner hit Enter than Dave’s ‘online’ indicator went gray. Jake closed his eyes, and rubbed them until he saw sparks. He knew what that meant—it meant that Dave would be knocking on his door within twenty minutes. The thing was, although he didn’t want company, Jake recognized that he NEEDED company, right now. Even though he and Brittany hadn’t had time to get close enough to get emotional, this breakup was the latest in a long line of relationships whose endings had centered squarely on Jake’s kinky side. He was doubting his self-worth, and he could feel the cold tendrils of depression seeping in. The litany of everything ‘wrong’ with him played through his mind like some macabre list of Unlocked Achievements: ‘Achievement Unlocked:Pervert’.. ‘Achievement Unlocked:Sicko’.. ‘Achievement Unlocked:Too Kinky’..Too demanding…Too submissive..Too weird..and now, this latest one, Too Gentle. Britanny had wanted him to tie her up, and whip her hard enough to draw blood, just like Matt did, in that book. Jake had a dominant side that reared its head every so often. It was rare, and while he could be a bit ‘rough’, even then he could never hurt his partner, much less actually injure them. Even one of his favorite movies, The Secretary, got a little too rough for his liking in parts.

The ‘bing’ went off on his browser, announcing a new friend request. Jake rolled his eyes, expecting yet another member of the former Mean Girls Clique from high school. He clicked the notification, determined to decline this one, until he saw the name—Bridget Richards. Bridget, his oldest and best friend from grade and middle school…Bridget, the very one—he felt—responsible for cursing him with his kink, when she had playfully tied and gagged him when they were ten. She had kept him that way for two hours, forcing him to watch some girly movie he wanted no part of that she wanted him to sit still and be quiet for. He had lost track of her after her parents moved away when he and Bridget were teenagers, but ever since that one event, he had sought out every image, every frame, every movie that pictured a damsel in distress. He devoured detective shows and crime dramas with the same fervor that he watched science fiction and fantasy programs, on the off-chance of catching the elusive hostage, struggling in ropes or tape—to say nothing of his vast collection of Wonder Woman comic books. He had pretty much always been attracted to the idea of a pretty woman being tied up—himself being bound held even more allure for him—but that one event gelled his interest into borderline obsession. As he grew older, he began to experiment with tying himself up more and more, every time he found himself alone in his parents’ house, and imagining that some beautiful woman had done it for some nefarious purpose—a purpose that became more erotic in nature, as he matured. More than once, he faked sickness to stay home from school so that he could spend the day in an empty house, playing his private games while both his parents were at work for 9 hours. When he moved out on his own, he began gathering more and more supplies, branching out into actual bondage gear, as he found those wonderful websites that fed his cravings. He’d had some close calls while playing solo, and even once had to place a panicked, gagged phone call—using his nose to dial—to Dave to come and get him out when his method of release failed, leaving him stuck. That was how Dave had found out about Jake’s interest in bondage. Dave had needed to actually break a window to get in, and—once he had verified that Jake wasn’t in danger—had left him gagged and bound for some time, while haranguing him angrily about how risky this was. Humiliated and cowed—hard not to be when bound, gagged, and naked while your friend yells at you—Jake had grunted into his ball-gag, and nodded agreement to use Dave as his safety net in the future. It was a service that Jake was somewhat glad he had never had to avail himself of, since Dave was forever teasing him about ‘helping him out’ in that regard. Even so, every time he indulged, he faithfully placed a phone call to his friend beforehand, asking him to drop by at ‘x’ time, and had always managed to be free before Dave arrived. Dave threatened from time to time to show up early(Dave had refused to loosen even a single buckle or knot until Jake told Dave where the spare key was—this was no easy thing to do, using only muffled grunts and frustrated head motions, and Dave had pocketed the key before untying him), but it was only good-natured ribbing—Dave remained respectful of Jake’s privacy. He had offered time and time again to partner with Jake for safety, and Jake had honestly been tempted. The urge can be strong, he trusted his friend, and it’s always safest with a partner(self-bondage can be very dangerous), however Jake was straight as an arrow and he didn’t want his friendship with Dave to get all weird.

Right on cue, the knock on his front door announced Dave’s arrival. Jake ran a hand over his face, as the want/don’t want company feeling washed over him. He answered the door, and his buddy stood there with a large, thin-crust pepperoni pizza in one hand, a twelve-pack of Jake’s favorite root beer in the other, and his laptop bag slung over his shoulder. Without being asked, Dave pushed past Jake and dropped the pizza on the table. He started fishing his laptop, mouse, and gaming gear out of his bag, as he turned and said, okay, what’ll it be? Monster movies, or vidjagames?

Jake smiled weakly at his friend, but said nothing, going back to hanging his head.

Dude. She really did a number on you, didn’t she? asked Dave, concerned.

Jake took a deep breath, and said, Dave, she didn’t really ‘do’ anything to me. It’s just that…well.. they all end like this. I mean, is this gonna be my life? I didn’t think I asked for too mu—

You don’t.

Jake smiled thinly, as he plopped down in his computer chair. Yeah, so why is it that I can’t find someone that is at least a _partial_ match for me? I mean, I’m not asking for ‘perfect’ or anything like that..just… Jake took a deep breath and put his head in his hands, letting his long, dark hair fall messily over his downcast face.

Jakey, me boy. There is NO SUCH THING as ‘perfect’. Everyone has their differences, Dave said, clapping Jake on the shoulder.

You and Zeke do all right.

Me and Zeke are hardly perfect…and— Dave stopped as his cell started bleating like a goat. Speak of the devil.

Jake barely suppressed a snicker, as Dave answered. He made a mental note to ask about the ring-tone, and winced as he heard the yelling from the phone—what Jake referred to as howler monkey mode, but never in front of Zeke. He half-listened as Dave diffused what could have become an argument. Jake sat down at his PC to consider his new friend request. He remembered Bridget as the cute, brown-eyed, be-freckled redhead next door. They’d spent endless hours sat cross-legged in front of his battered TV playing video games, playing board games, or watching bad movies and laughing. She had been a contradictory cross between rough-and-tumble tomboy, and real girly-girl. Her bike had been hot pink, in contrast to the wicked, camo blade she kept tucked into her cowboy boot. Her shelf full of Barbies had shared space with He-Man, and the fashion models inevitably ended up wearing armor and had weapons taped to their parade wave hands. She’d had a penchant for costumes, and he never knew how she’d be dressed when next he saw her. That day, she’d been dressed as a turtle, complete with a ragged, purple mask, and trashcan lid shell, spray painted green….

I love you too, Dave said, as he hung up. He looked at Jake, and cocked an eyebrow. Jake?

Jake stared at the profile picture, a comic book rendering of a blond babe…all in white, with thigh boots, fishnets, choker, and off-the-shoulder cape—his personal favorite look, and particular weakness.

Jake?

Her profile was hidden from anyone not her friend on Facebook, so that picture was the only one visible. He wondered where she was and what she was doing, now….HOW she was doing, now. He hovered the pointer over Accept.

Dave chuckled. HEY! Earth to Jake!

Jake jumped. Huh? Sorry. I guess I was a bit distracted.

Dave vaulted the couch, and moved to look over Jake’s shoulder. Another old school ‘friend’?

No. It’s Bridget.

Bridget? Not THE Bridget? The one you told me about….and told me about…and told me about?

Shut up. Yes.

Before Jake could react, Dave put his hand over Jake’s on the mouse, and forced him to click Accept.

HEY! Jake barked, snatching his hand back like he’d been scalded.

There. Now. Let’s see what she looks like, Dave stood with his arms crossed, triumphantly.

I don’t care what she looks like. She is…or at least was…my best friend.

Don’t you mean best FEMALE friend, sir?

Yeah, yeah. Okay. Best FEMALE friend.

Good man. We homos get jealous, you know, Dave grinned.

Wait…you…you’re GAY? Jake turned and stared at him, looking shocked.

What, me? No. NO!! Holy CRAP, no! I’m not gay…but my boyfriend is… now, let’s get a look at her.

Jake chuckled a bit, and turned back to the screen. I told you, I don’t care what she looks like. I’m just wondering what she’s up to. He clicked on her name, and the most recent post by her said that she was moving back to town.

DAMN, dude. She’s HOT, came the exclamation from the couch. Jake hadn't even noticed Dave moving away from him.

What….how can you see her profile? Jake looked around to see Dave browsing through her pictures.

I can’t, but YOU can.

How did you…?

Dave turned a slack-jawed face to Jake. ah-DOY… Your password is ‘Capital ‘B’ zero enn dee ay gee three’. That took me all of three tries. He turned back to the screen. Come take a look.

Wait. ‘She’s hot’?

Dave let out an exasperated sigh. I’m gay, not blind, doofus.

Jake sat down next to his friend as Dave moved through Bridget’s photos. Well, she’s still into costumes, I see. Full-blown cos-player. Dave said, as he clicked on a picture of Bridget in the same costume from her profile picture, complete with white-blond wig. Jake went very quiet, and swallowed hard. Dave looked at him. Jake whispered, ‘whoa’. Dave cocked an eyebrow, and stared at Jake until he looked back. Dave glanced quickly to Jake’s crotch and back, and smirked.

Jake put one hand over Dave’s eyes and shoved. Har har. Very funny, he quipped. Click the next one. Bridget hadn’t posted a hundred ‘cheesecake’ photos like some cos-players do, but her list was still impressive: Several female superheroes, a few 'gender-bent' versions of male ones...and then, there were the various Halloween pictures…Pirate Wench…French Maid…Gypsy…

Perhaps you’ve noticed that all of her Halloween pictures seem to have something in common? ..a neckline, perhaps, Dave teased.

Yeah. You know I have. Keep going, Jake replied. Dave moved on to the personal photo section, which was somewhat sparse.

My my my, she certainly has a unique style, Dave taunted.

MmHm. Jake replied, staring.

All those bared shoulders and legs, even in her regular street clothes.

Yes. I see, all right? Shut up.

She’s got an impressive array of chokers.

Dude, I should have never told you I liked that sort of stu— Jake began, testily.

Whoa. Dave interrupted as he clicked on a picture from where she attended goth night at some restaurant. She was dressed in a night-black, so-tight-it-looked-sprayed-on, long-sleeved, off-the-shoulder micro-minidress, black latex gloves, black velvet ribbon choker, fishnets, and over-the knee, stiletto-heeled, black, patent-leather boots, finished off with pale makeup, black lipstick, and a long, raven wig with straight hair and even straighter bangs—classic dominatrix cut. Wow. That could almost get ME worked up.

Wow, was all Jake could manage.

You think she’d want to get back in touch with you?

I’m not sure, Jake said, tearing his eyes away from the image. I mean, SHE'S the one that sent the friend request, so she's clearly reaching out.

I meant 'get in touch with you', as in 'romantically'.

We haven’t spoken in over 20 years.

It could be promising. Who knows? Dave grinned. "After all, she tied you up, once….she might want to do it again, in a more….adult..setting."

Jake’s heart jumped a little at Dave’s suggestion, but he didn’t dare hope. After all, that day was almost thirty years ago, they were just a couple of goofy kids playing around, it only happened the one time, and they hadn’t spoken in two decades. Still…. Jake moved back to his own PC, with every intention of sending her a message. After all, even if she wasn’t ‘interested’, it would be nice to rekindle the friendship. He had just started typing, when he noticed her relationship status: In a relationship. Jake’s heart sank. He hadn’t admitted to himself that he’d held out hope for…something…when she contacted him, and having that yanked out from under him was like a physical blow. He closed his browser, without sending—perhaps he’d contact her later, but right now, he couldn’t. He sat there and stared at his desktop.

What’s up? Did you email her? Dave asked.

No.

Why on earth NOT? If nothing else, you might reacquaint yourself with an old friend.

I might do it later, I just don’t feel like it, right now.

Jake, come on. You never kn—

Jake cut him off, angrily. She’s TAKEN, okay? Her status said relationship, so just drop it. I might contact her later, but not now… Jake sighed.

The lengthening silence grew uncomfortable, so Dave broke it. So, uh….pizza?

Sure. Look, Dave…I

No need, J. No need. Dave held up a hand to forestall any apology.

Jake took a deep breath and blew it out. Retro. Fire up that old RTS game we found, the other day. Go.

Dave grinned and minimized his browser, double-clicking on the icon with a grin. You’re on. Jake brought up his own copy, and they launched into a frenzied match. An hour later, the last of Jake’s forces were crushed under the heel of a relentless onslaught.

Victory! Dave declared, and in under an hour. Dude, what gives? That was too easy.

Jake shook his head. I guess I’m just distracted. All this crap just has me a little down…okay, a LOT down. Jake popped the lid on a root beer, and took a long pull.

No duh. Wanna talk?

What’s the point? You already know everything I am going to say. Hell, for that matter, Zeke does too, assuming you two talk about everything.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t share.

Nah, it’s okay. I don’t mind. He thinks I’m nuts, doesn’t he? Or weird…or some kind of pervert.

Dave laughed. Actually, he thinks you’re pretty cute. That’s why he gets bent out of shape sometimes, when I come over here…especially when I break a date to do it.

You broke a…? Dude! You didn’t have to do that! I’m fine!

Silence, loser, Dave said, waving his hand dismissively. ’Sides…my buddy needed me.

Well, I really appreciate it..but you really shouldn’t get yourself tossed into the doghouse on account of something so silly.

Look.. You’re my bud…and what’s bothering you isn’t ‘silly’. It’s part of what makes you, you. I get it. I really do. I mean, how long do you think I suffered in silence before I was brave enough to come out?

Well, I was the first one you told, so…years..

Right, and what happened?

Your mom and dad had already worked it out, and didn’t care.

…and I thought it was something horrible…and wrong…and, Dave stuck up a finger. Silly.

Jake opened his mouth to say something, and closed it.

Dave continued, "so what’s bothering you isn’t ‘silly’, either, J. You just haven’t found the right woman, yet."

Okay, you win.

Besides, I am never in the doghouse. Zeke is the puppy, when we play that game.

Jake choked, and spewed root beer all over the wall, barely missing his PC, and coughed, you did that on purpose, amid strangled laughter.

A-yup. Dave grinned. Timed it perfectly, too.

Jake threw his bottle-cap at him. Dave ducked. Okay, another match? Something else? Shall we watch giant monsters paste Tokyo again?

Jake stared at his computer monitor for a moment, then turned to his friend. I think I’m tired of the computer for a bit. I spend too much time in front of it, anyhow. How about that monster movie?

Ah. Kaiju smack-down. I like it. POPCORN, LOSER!

Ha. Ha. Very funny.

Stop leaking out your word-hole! You lost the match, you get the pop-ed corn, sir. Begone, and trouble me no more, until you bear hot, buttered, corny goodness! Dave stuck out his palm to Jake. Shun! Jake shook his head and fed his corn popper. The smell of fresh popcorn soon filled his huge home theater area, as Dave cued up the movie on Jake’s Blu-Ray. Jake leaned against the arm of his sofa, half-watching the rubber-suited actor chow down on miniature buildings. His eyes must have glazed over somewhat, because he never saw the pillow coming at his face. Dave turned off the television. Quick! Where are we, in the movie?

Jake stammered a bit, before sighing, I don’t know.

I thought as much. Bridget? Brittany?

Both…neither… then, Jake said quietly, Bridget. Dave stopped the movie, and turned to face Jake, but remained silent. It’s just that…aahh..I don’t know, Jake began, a frustrated tone in voice. I guess I thought that maybe, since it looked like she was still into costumes, that she hadn’t changed all that much, and maybe… Jake punched the throw pillow. I dunno.. I guess I thought we might reconnect. I mean, I had a kind of a thing for her back then that I never told her about, and we had a LOT in common.

Soooo…this isn’t about your…’hobby’?

It is, and it isn’t. Dave gave him the ‘confused dog’ look, as Jake continued, I mean, sure. On some level, I kinda hoped that we could…you know.. Dave nodded, sympathetically. ..but beyond that, she at least shared almost all of my interests, back then. I wasn’t interested in costuming, but everything else was perfectly parallel. Now that I’m older, as you have seen, Jake grinned, I can appreciate the unique fascination with certain costume choices.

Pervert.

Boy-toy, Jake retorted with a smirk. His face grew morose again. I guess I was hoping for something more than the cliché’ how you been/what have you been doing exchanges. I suppose I’ll email her, eventually…it’s just that, with everything else that’s happened, I don’t want to deal with that, too.

You know, you could always go to a paid Dominatrix. Perhaps make a trip up to Massachusetts to visit that Jessica person whose site you found. You talked about it, before. At least you’d get that part out of your system.

I won’t say I wasn’t tempted, but 1) I am not rich. Sure, I'm pretty successful, but over two thousand bucks is a lot of cash to blow on something I’ll just be wanting again in a couple of days.

Two thousand bucks?!? Dave asked.

I’d want to get a long session, to make driving there from Texas worth it.

Ah. That makes sense, I guess.

Jake continued. 2) I don’t know her. I’m sure she’s a very nice person. Judging from the reviews on her site, she obviously caters to her customers, but the bondage thing is something I want to share with someone I know and trust…and care about…and lastly, I’d feel creepy, going to a professional to feed my kink.

Dave folded his arms, his face darkened a bit, and he shot a pointed look at Jake. Safer than self-bondage.

Jake turned red, and mumbled what could have been YeahIknow.

You’d gotten a cord wound tight around your throat. You could have died.

I know I know…I call you now, don’t I?

So you say. I am trusting you not to break that promise, Dave continued his reproaching glare.

…and I have been keeping that promise faithfully. I swear.

Well, I still don’t have to like it. It only takes seconds to strangle or choke to death. What if you hadn't been able to reach your cell?

I’m a good deal more careful after that scare.

I would hope so. I just wish you’d let me…

No, Jake shook his head.

Dave threw up his hands.

It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t… Jake defended.

..want things to get weird between us. I’ve heard that tune. Sing another. Dave was pacing and waving his hands while he talked. If it’s about Zeke, we’ve discussed it. He’s okay with it, so long as nothing ‘else’ happens, which it wouldn't. You scared the hell out of me, dude.

Dave, I won’t budge on this. You’re like a brother to me, and attaching something that—clearly—gets me off, to you, would be beyond uncomfortable for me. Drop it. Please.

I won’t drop it, but you can consider it ‘hovering’ for now. I agree with the brother thing, which is why I worry. It’s because I know what you get up to, and I know how self-bondage works—you get braver and braver as you gain more experience, and the urge for more restrictive and elaborate scenarios builds.

You sound like you have some experience with this.

Dave waved his hands in a ‘spooky’ manner. Oooo…the formerly-closeted gay guy might just know a thing or three about bondage..

Smartass.

Liberal

You take that back!

No. However, I’ll let the subject go, for now. I WILL continue this discussion at an undetermined, later date, sir.

Answer won’t change.

Won’t stop me doing it.

Fine, Jake conceded. How did we even get on this again? We were discussing my love life and getting shot down, where Bridget is concerned.

Well, you ‘love’ bondage, don’t you?

Jake glared at him.

Look. EMAIL HER. She and her significant other might just want to hang out with you, you know? You’ve got friends that actually enjoy your company, jackass. You might end up with a couple more. Dave pointed to his laptop, sternly. At the very least, you might get out of this damned house more. You might also end up with more than a couple of players for some of your cooler boardgames, and our RPG group could always use more cannon fodder, or maybe a decent healer...especially after Jez stopped coming around.

I’m not up to it, right now, dude. Seriously. Besides, she still lives up north someplace, I think.

Fine, but I’m not gonna quit nagging you, until you do it, Dave said, with a suspiciously-cocked eyebrow.

I figured. You’re good at that.

Conversation over. Shall we finish the movie? Dave held up a hand.

Sure, was Jake’s reply. They restarted the blu-ray, and watched mankind’s eventual triumph over the 100-foot horror. Jake glanced at his clock, which read 7:42. What time you gotta leave?

When I decide it’s time to.

You won’t pay for that?

Oh, I likely will, but he knows you’re having a hard time, right now. He’d have come himself, but he’s got an early shift, and is probably already in bed.

Jake got up and stretched. In that case, boardgames?

Dave stuck his finger in the air. BOARDGAMES!!

Jake began setting up the game, while Dave grabbed another drink. As Jake shuffled up the cards associated with the game, Dave sat down, and said, let’s make this interesting. Jake stopped mid-shuffle, and looked at him, suspiciously. Dave was adept at the game, but so was Jake.

’Interesting’, how?

One game. If I win, you email Bridget..TONIGHT…with me watching.

"…and when I win, you drop it, AND you drop the bondage thing. Entirely. For good." Jake smirked.

Dave pondered for a moment, then, deal, and they sat down to play. For a little more than half an hour, the rattle of rolling dice clattered through the den, until finally, Dave emerged victorious by three points. Dave folded his arms, and looked triumphantly at Jake.

Dave pointed to the laptop. Go, he said with a smirk.

Jake groaned. Okay, how about two out of three?

No. Dave continued to point.

Double or nothing?

Dave raised his eyebrows, and folded his arms again. "If I win this time, you will give up tying yourself up entirely, and call me whenever you need to ‘scratch your itch’ so that I can do it FOR you, watch over you, and keep you safe….starting with tonight, immediately after you lose. Oh, and each time, you will stay bound until I decide to release you. ..and I will email Bridget for you, because you will be too tied up to do so."

Fine. I’ll email her. Dave grinned smugly as Jake moved to Dave’s laptop and opened it. He maximized the Facebook window, and his eyes widened. He already had a message, and it was from her. Uh, she beat me to it.

What?? Dave dropped into the seat next to Jake, to look at the screen. Jake pointed to the flashing message window. You have to respond. You lost, Dave admonished.

I know, I know. Let me read her message, first. Jake clicked on the icon.

Her message read, Hi, Jake. I don’t know if you remember me. I used to live next door to you, when we were kids. I am moving back to town, and I know it’s a long shot, but I have a HUGE favor to ask. Can you please message me back, when you get this?

Jake froze. He had no idea what to type. What did she want? Why would she think he didn’t remember her? Why was she moving back to town? His fingers hovered over the keys.

Either you type, or I will. Welcher.

Ease up, man. I’m doing it. Jake began typing: Of course I remember you. We grew up together. You were my best friend. I hated when you had to move away. How have you been?

Jake turned to Dave, and said, debt paid. Dave blew a raspberry at him.

Bridget’s response was, I’ve been better. You may not know that I lost both of my parents a couple of months ago, so it’s been just me.

Jake blew a low whistle, as Dave read over his shoulder. Wow. Tough break, Dave said.

Jake continued typing, Bridget, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry. Your parents were great folks. What are you doing with yourself, nowadays?

I was a costumer for a local theater. The pay sucked, but at least I got to work doing something I loved.

I saw your cosplay photos. Great stuff. You haven’t changed much, since middle school.

"Thanks, but those are old photos. The newest one is a good eight years old. Anyway, the theater closed, which left me