Confrontations, Truths, and Complications.

Clarice started up again. "I mean, I'd only ever been with you. Hell, I'd barely even kissed a boy before. And after graduation, we were getting ready to go to college, and you were all set. But... fuck I was so stupid... I just didn't know yet, y'know? I still hadn't found out if that was really who I was. And wanted to talk to you about it, and I was scared to talk to you about it. I thought you'd get angry. And when I finally worked up the courage, with the help of a little vodka, you weren't home. But Morgan was... and... I never should have done it. If I was going to sleep with a guy, it really shouldn't have been your brother. But I just wanted to know for sure."

There was a long pause.

"Fuck, I just wish I hadn't. I was being dumb. I wanted to test myself, and you know what? I passed. Or failed, or something. I mean, it was awful. I just didn't like it. It wasn't me. And then you came home..."

There was a very long pause.

"I kept trying to call you. I know it was stupid, but I thought I could explain it to you. I wanted to make it up to you." Clarice looked up. "I've been wanting to make it up to you all the past year." Her hand suddenly found Lisa's across the table and squeezed it tightly, not in possession, but begging. "Please... Let me make it up to you."

Lisa pulled her hand away. "I'm with someone now, Clarice."

The look on her face was awful. Her heart was clearly broken, and Lisa was glad she now knew how it felt.

"Please, Lisa."

"No."

"I know you still have feelings for me."

"I really don't," Lisa said. But as she said it, she realized it wasn't really true.

"Please, please let me make it up to you, please."

Lisa felt her resolve wavering. It was her voice that did it. Her pleading. Her begging. Lisa remembered it too well. How she'd make Clarice beg, and make her plead, for release. How she'd deny her for hours at a time teasing, and the arousal she would feel at the power of controlling her. Guiltily, she realized she was wet right now. She could feel the damp of her panties against her mons.

"No, Clarice, no, I won't." But as she spoke, her voice and resolve broke at the same time. And she knew that Clarice could tell.

There was the slightest smile as Clarice spoke. "Please. I'll make it up to you, please." With every 'please' Lisa lost more power.

She made one final effort not to give in. "No, Clarice, no. I'm with someone else, there's no place for you."

"My place has always been, and will always be, below you," Clarice said. "You know it as well as I do."

"No, that's not true."

"If it's not, that what's that in your purse?"

Lisa was confused. She looked down at where her carryall was stashed under the table and was shocked to see her strap-on inside it.

"Wha-"

"You brought it. You must have known."

Looking at it, Lisa realized that she had brought it. Without even thinking about it, she'd slipped it in the bag. The strap-on they had bought together, ordering it online at the age of seventeen. Eight inches long, thick black, full harness... god, they'd been ambitious as teenagers.

"No,"Lisa said. She stood up, and ran to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on her face, she looked in the mirror. She had more self control than this. She knew she did. She sat down on the toilet, feeling her resolve disappearing.

Suddenly the door opened, and Clarice was with her, bringing Lisa's purse. Clarice knelt in front of her on the tile floor, putting her hands on Lisa's knees. She leaned up and forward, kissing her delicately. "Please,"Clarice said one last time, breathing the words against Lisa's lips, "Let me make it up to you, mistress."

Lisa stood, slowly.