Chapter 4 - on the moon part 2

We settled into the usual banter; complaining about work, sharing the challenges of love lives, making the same ol' inside jokes. Well, I should say they did. I did my best to smile, laugh, and otherwise react at the right moments. But eventually, I was distracted by the cute, little singer on stage warbling to some unknown man that she wasn't going to buy his lies anymore as her fingers glided up and down her mandolin.

Soon, my chin rested inside my water glass. The top circled my mouth. And my mind was taken to earlier this week, the glass becoming the mask once again strapped around my head.

My hands were bound above me with rope, tied to a fireman's pole. My mistress had had her fun with me; having me slide my bound hands up and down then up again as I moved my body to collect the fudge in her small, graceful fingers. She had flicked her crop at my panties and I had groaned to her delight as well as my own. Now, however, I was being brought to bliss as I licked and sucked at the tube in my mouth. Something that had once seemed so foreign and strange now brought me such excitement and unadulterated pleasure. I had been standing at full height when my mistress placed my mask on me; but, as I gulped and as my mistress gave me pleasure for my work with the small vibrating device stirring my insides once more, I leaned against the pole and sank slowly to the floor until I sat with my legs spread, my engorged stomach pushing as hard as it could against my tight corset, my body arching and aching with sensations.

"... don't know, do you Jess?"

"Hmm?" I was brought back to the bar and as I lifted my head, I tipped my glass onto the table. Water quickly flooded the surface and the group gave shouts of surprise as ice cubes landed in their laps.

"Sorry, sorry," I said as I used the small drink napkins to try to clean up.

There were half-assed mumbles of "no problem" and "it happens." Our waitress hustled over to finish cleaning up.

Heather grabbed my hand once everything seemed under control. "I have to use the restroom, join me?"

It was a question but it must have been rhetorical because she dragged me towards the ladies room without me having to answer.

Once we got into the bathroom, Heather collected a handful of paper towels and started dabbing at the damp part of her dress.

"So, Jess. Everything is ok at work then?"

"Yeah."

" And the family, your parents good?"

"Ross and Betsy Mackley are right as rain."

"Anything new going on? Anything I've missed?"

"I broke a nail two days ago."

"Jess, really. Is everything ok?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"It's just..." she let out some air, stopping her dabbing and looking up to me with concern on her face. "You seem so hard to get out these past few weeks and when you show up, it's like your mind is on the moon and you get snippy when we try to bring you back to earth. We're your friends, if something is up, we just want to support you and be there for you. We love you, Jess. But it's like, I don't know, like we're losing you or something."

I sighed. She was right, I was being rude. Heather, Chad, Trish, and Trevor had been with me since college. We had even moved into the same beat-up house when we came out to this town after graduation. We had seen each other through break-ups, job-losses, and whatever else life threw at us. Heather always just wanted me to be happy. She helped me survive calculous by tutoring me for hours on end and let me borrow her suit for several internship interviews that eventually landed me at the company I now worked at. She even lied and told me my bangs didn't look *so* bad that summer I gave them a try.

"It's like, one week we were going to bars, doing brunch, we went to that chocolatier tour, and got our nails done, then the next week you were just... not all there."

For a moment, I considered telling her about my dreams. Of anyone I knew, Heather would support me. I mean, she'd probably think I was crazy but honestly it was possible that I was. Yet, she would stand by me and help me figure out if there was something I should do about them.

"Also, and I'm just saying this as your best friend who cares about you a lot, you seem to have... put on a little weight. Which is fine!" she clarified as I shot a glare at her. "It's just, it *is* sometimes a sign of depression or anxiety or a hundred other things that aren't so great and I wanted to be sure you are ok and healthy..."

I felt an anger flare in me. She cared about me alright, but Miss Jogs-5-Miles-Every-Day would of course think gaining a few pounds meant the world was ending. Suddenly I felt something in me seething and I didn't want to explain what I used to make my salad dressing this week let alone the weird sex dungeon dreams that were consuming my sleeping - and, more and more, my waking - life. There was just no way she would understand, no way she wouldn't be immediately judgmental.

I leaned against the sinks and looked up at the cheap tiles on the ceiling. "I just haven't been sleeping real well and it makes me spacy." I said, feeling like I wasn't completely lying. "The cold and all." Ok, that was a total lie.

Heather didn't say anything for a moment and when I looked over I saw confused and hurt eyes searching my face for something that would make her understand. I kept my face blank and eventually she bit her lip and said "Ok. Well, let's get back out there and see what the band's playing, yeah?"