The call wasn't anything unusual. The woman said she had seen an ad for a home in a real estate magazine and asked to speak to the listing agent to find out more details.  It was the kind of call Miya took probably a half dozen times a day. But inquiries on this particular property were rare because of its uniqueness and its high dollar price. 

After asking questions about the house and offering to provide a bank letter to assure Miya she had the finances to purchase a home in the seven-figure range, the woman, Noel Pierson, said, "I'd like to see it. Can you schedule an appointment?" 

Satisfied Ms. Pierson was an interested and qualified buyer and not just a "looky loo," Miya told her, "While technically the house is occupied, the owners are on a trip out of the country, so the property is available to show to you immediately." Though Miya was scheduled to take that afternoon and the next three days off for the holiday weekend, the thought of the commission she would receive on the sale of the listing was reason enough to change her plans. Getting the listing had been a real coup and Miya nearly went weak at the knees when her broker told her it was her listing by referral.

"Tell me when you'd like to see it," Miya had asked.

"There’s no sense in dillydallying around. Is this afternoon too soon?"

"Fine, I’ll meet you here at the office, and then we’ll drive out together."

 "No. Give me directions to the house," the sultry voice on the other end of the line enjoined, "and I'll meet you there."

The woman’s authoritative manner raised the hackles on Miya’s neck, at the same time eliciting a strange sensation in her stomach.  "The property is pretty isolated and a little difficult to find. I’d much prefer that you allow me to drive you there."

"You’ll discover when we meet—at the property, Miss Mitchell—my self-sufficiency was born out of my stubbornness. I prefer to meet you there." A red flag was just making ready to plant itself in Miya’s consciousness when the hard edge softened and the woman chuckled. "I’ll be fine. Just give me directions…please."

Miya relented, giving the directions and explaining to her they would meet at the locked gate at the entrance to the property.

Gathering listing information on the house and the code to unlock the security gate, Miya informed her secretary that if a sale resulted, she'd be back in the office to draw up contracts. If there was no sale, she was going directly home. She hadn’t had a day off in weeks, and this Labor Day weekend she planned on taking some much deserved time to herself. She hoped to be writing a contract, but if that didn’t come to pass, she let her secretary know, "I won’t be checking back in the office until Tuesday. I'm covered, so I won't have my cell phone on. I know the office will be closed, but I’m just letting you know you won’t be able to call me, and there will be no way to forward pages. You will not be able to reach me."

"All right, already. I got the picture." Her secretary threw her a teasing 'humph.' "Go! Have fun. Relax. You deserve it.

As Miya began the fourteen-mile drive to the unique property, she reflected on her secretary’s words. Have fun. Miya had almost forgotten what the word meant, and she doubted spending three days catching up on house cleaning and other chores could be classified as "fun." One of her associates had tried coaxing Miya to join her and her family that weekend on an outing to Six Flags, to which Miya had declined. Augmented by the stress of not having heard from Kenzie for over a week, she was exhausted and emotionally spent, and spending her time with people she barely knew was not her idea of fun.

No one knew about the surreptitious life Miya lived after hours through her liaison with Kenzie. And with no one to really talk to about her first lesbian affair, not being able to reach Kenzie for a week had kicked Miya’s neuroses into high gear.

 She had met Kenzie in a chat room. To wind down in the evenings, Miya would get on the computer and play card games. She was particularly fond of entering rooms that featured "21." Some four months ago she found a new site, and there was Kenzie, a serious player, but personable, witty, and extremely clever. Miya discovered she was living close to Kenzie’s old stomping grounds, Phoenix, and that Kenzie still felt a strong connection to Arizona. "I still have a lot of support group there," she'd said. "I miss it."

The chat began to get more personal, and the two of them started meeting outside of the game room. The on-line conversations grew into more extended chats on a separate messenger service, and then into the ultimate online affair. The sex had been incredible and the more she was with Kenzie, the more in "like" she became. She couldn’t remember the precise moment she realized she was in "love," but when it had hit, it had hit hard.

Kenzie’s was a complex personality, and initially the relationship had been exceedingly trying. Separated from the love of her life, Leslie, four years earlier, Kenzie still held deep feelings for the woman and couldn’t quite give up on the relationship. She had become a recluse, devoting herself to her artwork, writing, and getting involved in one after another online affairs.

There were numerous times during the first two months of their "affair" when Kenzie’s bipolar personality asserted itself, and she would chillingly relate that this was not real, it was a PC to PC relationship that would go nowhere, and Miya should get out of the situation before she got hurt. Miya made her best attempt to shrug it off, not pressing Kenzie to change, and offering only patience and understanding.

Then there was the time she had disappeared for a week. They had known each other only about two months, and the "other" Kenzie that lurked in the shadows still had a tendency to make herself known. This time when the bipolar devil reared its ugly head, the raging and bullying were at an all-time high, as were the stinging statements that the relationship was going nowhere.

"If we could get together, meet…" Miya again suggested. 

"Been there, done that, won’t work," was the icy reply. "I like to keep people at a distance, at least on the Internet. I keep it online because it’s just easier that way."

Miya’s arguments and her attempts to humor Kenzie out of her mood were cut off. "You don’t understand. I don’t feel anything. I just feel empty. This is just something I do. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. It never lasts. It’s not real. It doesn’t mean anything."

What were Kenzie’s last words to her? "I’m not looking for a soul mate; my heart is with Leslie, and that’s where it’s happiest at the moment. You’re not real to me. I don’t feel anything for you. You’re nothing more to me than data and pixels."

That had been the hardest blow ever, and it didn’t appear the abuse was going to end, but it had, and unexpectedly. Kenzie closed the chat—just simply closed it and was gone! Despite all Miya’s attempts to reach her, Kenzie remained mute. Miya thought it was over. Worse, there was nothing to remind her of the relationship except the recollection of voice chats through the microphone in Miya’s computer monitor that made Kenzie’s voice sound like it was coming from the opposite end of a long tunnel. But no matter how distorted the sound, she had waited with bated breath each night to hear that voice. How I yearn to hear it right now! Other than that, there was nothing, material or otherwise, to remind her of the relationship—not a fuzzy emailed photograph, not an address, not a phone number. Kenzie hadn’t been quite ready to make herself that open and available.

It was only an on-line relationship, for the god’s sake, she remembered having chided herself over and over, choking back the tears. Data and pixels…She had tried to accept that as a valid reason for the affair to be ended, but she couldn’t. It went deeper than that—at least as far as she had been concerned—much deeper.

She was astonished, pleased, and forgiving when, a week later, Kenzie reappeared on e-mail, profusely apologetic, bearing graphics of a bouquet of roses from which she said she had removed all the prickers, and asking to make a fresh start. Her "devil" seemingly gone.

Kenzie of late had been hinting to being "together," in real life and the relationship seemed to be on an upward swing.

Miya recalled the poem Kenzie had written for her: The widening of places / once held securely closed / As you reach to my heart / my secrets unfold.

This was the Kenzie with whom Miya had fallen in love. The Kenzie who professed her love for Miya on numerous occasions…the Kenzie who made love to her with as much passion as if they were really together…the Kenzie who, during their lovemaking and despite Miya’s every attempt to make love to her, would turn it around and take Miya to orgasmic heights never before experienced…the Kenzie who rarely missed the opportunity to proclaim, "I receive the ultimate pleasure by giving you pleasure. I love to make you come, hear you come. I come through your explosion, while drawing the essence of you through you into me."

"Just wait until we’re really together," Kenzie recently began threatening lightheartedly, "I’m going to make love to you, to every part of your body, every orifice, in every conceivable way. Do things to you that you’ve never even heard about, like trussing you up in a swing and splaying you open for my pleasure—your pleasure. I’m going to have you all night long, let you recuperate some during the day, and then start all over again."

Kenzie now was beginning to hint that allowing Miya a trip to the East to meet in person might some day become a reality, and that really made her heart pound. Kenzie's vivid descriptions of the sex she wanted to have with Miya always made Miya zing, but now they made Miya shudder, not only with anticipation but with trepidation as well. Imagining what Kenzie said she would do to her was an entirely different picture than its actually happening. Still, Miya told Kenzie she was ready for that live relationship, she needed it, craved it—all of it. "I need to touch a real human—you—have you touch me, hold me, love me, Kenzie. I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. Please let me visit you, come to you—come for you." She thought of Kenzie’s lovemaking…Kenzie’s words…Kenzie…Miya felt the goose bumps on her arms and a burning passion begin to churn in her center.

#

The black 2001 Dodge Ram was already parked at the gate when Miya arrived. Her heart fluttered. The expensive truck certainly testified to the validity of the woman’s financial means, as well as her purported interest in owning a horse operation. Miya’s gut instinct told her she very well could be looking at a sale here.

She waved a salute at the woman sitting behind the steering wheel, received one back, and punched in the code to open the gate. Glancing in her rearview mirror to make sure the gate swung shut after entering the estate, Miya began the long drive to the main house that wound through manicured lawns, more trees than would have been believed in a desert setting, and a vast array of flowerbeds—a stark contrast to most of the properties she showed.

She wondered what it would be like to own a property as elegant and expensive as this one, and then grinned at the fact she now actually owned seven percent of this particular property—the commission she would receive when it sold.

As she parked at the entrance of the Southwestern-style villa and exited her vehicle, Miya turned to walk to the Dodge, and her breath was caught short at what was unwinding itself from behind the steering wheel…no less than six-foot of lean muscle sculpted in an azure silk shirt unbuttoned at the neck to reveal just a hint of cleavage. The shirt was tucked into form-fitting black leather pants that slinked their way down those long legs into midcalf-high, black leather boots.

"Miss Pierson." Miya was immediately captivated by two cobalt eyes that never relinquished their piercing gaze from her own brown ones. Extending her hand, Miya felt a shock of goose bumps ripple over her forearm at their touch.

"Noel, please," came the smooth, baritone request.

"N-Noel. Yes, of course. Thank you. Shall we go inside?" Suddenly the unwavering eyes Miya first had thought beautiful now took on an air of duplicity.

"I think we’ll take a tour of the grounds first." There was an aura about Noel that suggested she liked being in control, and anyone displaying a contentious nature would be dealt with, severely or otherwise. Noel’s hand went to Miya’s elbow, gripping it firmly, causing an unexpected thrill to strike between Miya legs.

As Miya found herself being guided around the corner of the house, past the pool yard and toward the stable, she questioned just when it happened that she had come to being led instead of being the leader.

#

The stable was empty now, but at one time had been the home of no less than a dozen fit racing thoroughbreds. While the two women walked through the center of the building, Noel tested stall doors, investigated feed bins, gingerly fingered rakes, pitchforks, and other mucking tools. She quickly surveyed the contents of the tack room. "I presume all of this will be included with the purchase price?"

"We can negotiate for it to be part of the package." Miya's voice was suddenly becoming strained as she watched Noel fingering a riding crop. "Um, Miss Pierson…Noel…um, are you planning to take that?"

"I always take what I want."

Noel glided over to Miya, standing close enough for the realtor to catch her musky essence. She placed the tip of the riding crop against Miya’s cheek, slowly guiding it along her jaw, down her neck to her shoulder, and finally into the cleavage of her blouse. 

"So," Noel began, switching into her best businesslike manner and heading for the exit, "what say I take a look at the rest of this place, and then we’ll get together for dinner later this evening and see if we can’t come up with an offer to present."

Miya, weak at the knees from the feel of the crop against her cheek and neck, followed meekly, obtusely stating, "Uh huh."

#

It was an innocuous looking building, just a street number over the door and a small metal plate that read: THE CROSSING.

This can’t be the place…

Miya rechecked the address on the slip of paper Noel had given her. The numbers matched. Well, Noel did say it was a private club, and I guess it doesn’t get much more private than this. Miya shrugged her shoulders and placed her hand against the door. Certainly this couldn’t be any more bizarre than how the earlier part of the day had gone, spent with the arcane Noel Pierson.

Pushing her way through the door and into the interior of the building, Miya found herself in a dank feeling foyer, and she was immediately fallen upon by a woman dressed from head to foot to the point of gaudiness in silver lamé. "Can I help ya?"

"I’m supposed to be meeting someone here—Noel Pierson?"

"Oh, yeah, you must be Miya?" Miya acknowledged her question with a nod of her head. "Follow me," she continued, leading Miya to a tall swivel back stool at the bar. "I’ll go get Noel."

 The lights were low, but Miya could see the room was large and badly appointed. Except for some neon signs and metal placards touting the types of beer and liquor available for sale, for the most part the walls were bare. A veil of cigarette smoke lingered in the air. Some unidentifiable tune bellowed from an antique jukebox. There were numerous round tables and several booths lining the walls where couples were sharing drinks and conversation. At some larger tables, several women were gathered in groups, obviously enjoying a night out on the town, and there were other women sitting at the bar. Miya’s subconscious mind noted the lack of men in the establishment, as well as the curious and, from a few, predatory looks she had drawn upon making her entrance. When a woman sitting at one of the larger tables winked at her, Miya’s conscious mind rudely alerted her to the obvious. Oh, this is a lesbian club! Until Miya had met Kenzie online, she'd never had a lesbian affair before, much less been in a bar for, or, for that matter, full of women.

"What’ll you have?" a voice asked from behind her.

 Turning to see a pert brunette setting a cocktail napkin and a bowl of pretzels before her, Miya answered blankly, "Tequila gimlet on the rocks."

"Coming right up!" The bartender smiled and went to prepare the order.

While waiting for her drink, Miya found herself looking back at her own reflection in a huge mirror in the center of a massive carved backbar, the only saving grace in the entire establishment. Obviously an antique, it covered an entire wall. There were large under-lighted paintings on each side of the mirror, somewhat shabby artistic renderings that caused Miya’s tawny eyes to widen perceptibly and rapidly traverse from one painting to the other. The painting on the left was of two nude women embracing, touching each other, obviously engaged in foreplay. Switching to the other painting, her stare became riveted on another nude couple. There was a look of rapture on the face of the woman on the bottom, her back arched, head thrown back, her raised torso supported by her elbows, her knees up, legs spread. The second nude was kneeling, her hands caressing the inner thighs of the other, her head and upper body leaning toward what was offered between the parted legs.

Miya felt the infusion of heat invade her neck and face and became doubly embarrassed because she suddenly realized the curious voice at the back of her mind was questioning whether the nude in the painting had already tasted the juices offered between those parted legs or whether she was just about to. And as quickly as that question arose, the thought occurred to her that some of the things that had happened earlier in the day now made sense. Noel Pierson was a lesbian. Not that it made a bit of difference to Miya. It just explained her "peculiar" behavior.

"Hey." Miya nearly jumped straight in the air when a hand clasped her shoulder the same time the greeting was issued.

"Hey, yourself," she said with a grateful sigh, slowly releasing the death grip she had on the padded bar front. She felt her chair being swiveled around, and then she came face to face with Noel. Well, not exactly face to face, more like face to breast. She could feel the intensity of the rich blue eyes boring into her before she even moved her own off Noel's chest and looked up. As she was earlier in the day, Miya was again struck by Noel’s stature.

"You’re about forty-five minutes early."

"Yes, sorry." She wondered why she was apologizing. What is it about this woman that makes me feel…well…what would the word be…not childlike…Submissive, was the word that finally settled in her mind.

"I have about another fifteen to twenty minutes or so of business to take care of before I feed you and we discuss our business. Will that be a problem?" Without waiting for an answer, she took Miya by the elbow, assisting her down from the stool. Miya couldn’t help but feel impressed that Noel was so confident with her stature that she was wearing boots with no less than a two-inch heel.

"I’ll be right over there." Noel nodded, indicating a corner booth within eyesight of the table where she had seated Miya. "Sam will take good care of you until I’m through. Right, Sam?" The bartender nodded in the affirmative.

She leaned toward Miya’s ear and almost in a whisper said, "I’ll try to hurry. You need anything at all, you ask Sam."

"I’ll be fine, I’m sure." Miya hoped she would be.

After giving her shoulder a firm squeeze, Noel glided back toward the corner booth. Miya’s gaze followed and she found herself appraising her. Noel obviously loved leather. Tucked into a different pair of form fitting black leather pants, that Miya couldn’t help observe accentuated her tight ass, was a black silk blouse with billowing wrist-length sleeves. Instead of buttons, laces left loose to show the bare skin under the fabric, just barely closed enough to conceal her full breasts, crisscrossed from mid-abdomen to the neckline. Unlike earlier in the day when Noel had worn her hair in a single long braid, now her dark blond tresses were left free to softly frame her face and cascade in waves down to the middle of her back. Miya couldn’t help but admire the woman’s looks. She wasn’t stunningly gorgeous, but she had a classic beauty. Her face was defined by high cheekbones, her body well-muscled, taut, and fit. No, not gorgeous, but purely damned attractive. She was unable to ward off the tingle of sensation that spread through her lower abdomen.

#

Staring at the contents of her second drink, Miya felt a prickling at her neck, and when she raised her gaze and looked at the booth in the corner, she saw she was receiving a sidelong glance from Noel. When their eyes met, Noel gave her a wink and a look that indicated, "Just a little while longer." Miya smiled back and acknowledged the message with a nod of her head.

She leaned back in her chair, her gaze traversing the room. Nature was calling, and she searched for a restroom. Seeing a woman pushing open a door to allow her companion to scoot through into the room beyond, Miya presumed she had found what she was looking for. When she saw another gal go through the same door, she got up from the table and walked in that direction. She thought The Dungeon was a peculiar name for a restroom, but she was undaunted as she pushed the door open and proceeded to go inside.

Miya didn’t hear the chuckle and was unaware of the wry smile of amusement that emanated from the woman in black seated in the corner booth.

#

The first thing that assaulted her senses was the dimness. Only bare light bulbs, probably no more than twenty-five watts and suspended by long black cords hanging from a high ceiling, led a path down a narrow stairway. Miya began the descent. As she reached the first landing where the stairs took a sharp turn to the left, her ears were assaulted by the eerie sounds of a piano’s keys plunking one note at a time and then the slow, droning words of a song.

As she reached the bottom of the lower landing, she saw several women standing and looking into what appeared to be windows lining three walls in a horseshoe pattern of a room that matched the size of the one above. At the same time Miya realized this definitely was not a restroom, she recognized the song, Alanis Morissette, Uninvited.

Miya, squirming in her own discomfort, couldn’t believe the irony. Curiosity, however, won out over discomfort, and Miya couldn’t help but be drawn to the first window by a slapping sound and whatever else it was beyond that drew the attention of the couple looking in.

Oh, MY GOD! Was the thought that immediately enveloped her senses. The room’s light was muted by dim amber bulbs. The most prominent vision was the woman, gym shorts pulled to her ankles just above her sneakers, lying bare ass up over a pommel horse. Her writhing body and the red welts on her ass attributed to the fact that she had already been laid into pretty good by the other woman, also dressed in gym clothes, who was wielding the leather paddle. Miya heard the whacking noises fade as she walked away toward another window. Her mind traveled to thoughts of Kenzie, and she smiled inwardly at the threats of paddling Kenzie liked to state she’d inflict on her if she didn’t "behave." As if…Miya laughed, and then rethought her feelings, thinking she might even be willing to submit to a paddling if only Kenzie would come back to her. God, how I miss that woman.

Miya skipped the next several windows, the scenes within advocating activities that Miya found she couldn’t stomach. A woman on a leash being made to kiss the shoes of the gargantuan woman presiding over her; humiliating…and Miya couldn’t abide one person being humiliated by another.

A woman in a full leather face mask—Miya didn’t even stop to imagine what that was all about; just seeing the mask as she walked up to the window made her claustrophobic. However, the couple watching the scene within apparently was getting something out of whatever was happening. Wrapped tightly against each other, they were kissing passionately, the hand of one down the front of the other’s pants, obviously actively engaged in finger-fucking her mate.

A third scene Miya viewed only briefly before walking away had a woman elevated off the ground constrained in some sort of swing device, her wrists bound above her head, straps at both knees pulling to the side, splaying her thighs wide open. A bead of sweat formed on Miya’s upper lip as she watched the dildo strapped on the other woman gliding in and out of the center of the woman secured in the swing, and she felt the pulsing in her own center. But when she saw the dildo pull out completely and heard the crackle emitted from some kind of electrical device the woman in control held in her hand, Miya moved on.

Two of the nine-foot high windows were black, and Miya presumed nothing was happening behind the glass at the moment. She could only guess at what kind of activities went on in those rooms, but she had not to use her imagination at all when she came up to a window where no one but she would be viewing the activity within. When she guessed what was about to happen, she again thought of Kenzie and how this window probably would appeal to her, especially if she and Miya were the participants. "Not without a fight on your hands, my love," Miya whispered to herself. There was a massage table, a nude woman on all fours perched near the end of the table, her face turned sideways toward the window, head resting on her forearms, which were flat on the surface, her ass in the air.

A variety of adult toys were lined up on a smaller table near the window. The woman standing behind the table was squeezing a generous amount of lubricant out of a tube and onto her fingers. She liberally applied some to her partner's ass, her middle finger running back and forth along the crack until it slid into her. Miya watched the recipient’s face and saw the grimace she was looking for. She noted, however, that the grimace was quickly replaced by a more rapturous look and her hips began to follow the rhythm of the finger that was gliding in and out of her ass. She heard a low moan when a second finger accompanied the first and the in and out action resumed. Pulling completely out, the woman, providing what obviously had become pleasure to the other woman kneeling ass up before her, took hold of a device about five inches long that looked curiously like a Christmas tree. It was tapered at the top and wider at the bottom near a base. After lubricant had been lavishly applied to the item and the tip disappeared between the cheeks of the upturned ass, a loud gasp escaped from the throat of the woman being serviced. Miya, butt muscles clenched tight, walked away, her mind stating, In your dreams, Sweetheart.

A muted blue light glowing from another window drew her attention. Beyond the glass a woman in a black Teddy stood over a bed to which another woman, blindfolded, nude, and in a supine position, was shackled with leather restraints, wrists and ankles, to four posts at each corner of the bed. The chains from the posts to the ankle cuffs were longer than the foot restraints, allowing the woman’s lower torso to be elevated by several strategically placed pillows, which caused her knees to be slightly bent, her thighs parted.

Miya was mesmerized by a drop of wax that was dripping from a candle the standing woman held over the other’s chest. As if it were falling in slow motion, Miya watched its descent, finally splattering on the nipple with a plop she could swear she heard. The woman flinched when the wax hit, letting out a soft moan that was audible. Without a reprieve, the woman in the Teddy kept the candle tilted, trailing droplets of wax from the woman’s breast, down across her abdomen, eliciting another spasm when droplets of wax pooled in the woman’s navel. Stopping the wax from dripping only when she reached the hairline, the woman parted the bound woman’s lower lips with one hand, and then poised the tilted candle directly over her clit. The woman began to writhe against her restraints, stopping immediately when Miya heard the command, "Lie still." When the hot wax met with the exposed clit, the bound woman emitted a sharp cry accompanied by a spasmodic jerk that Miya’s body matched in kind. Incredulously, Miya could feel moisture between her own thighs.

Miya viewed a couple more spanking scenarios, one with a woman over another’s lap, a bare hand the "paddle" of choice, another with a woman chained by the wrists to a post, her bare back, butt, and thighs receiving lashes from—Miya almost fainted—a riding crop. And for the second time that night, she nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand touched her shoulder, a "Hey," whispered in her ear.

"Noel, you nearly gave me a heart attack." She turned toward Noel with a heated glance. They were too close, but Miya, her back pressed against the window, had no place to retreat.

"So, which of these little games sparks your interest the most?" Noel's eyes, locked onto Miya’s, held more than a hint of interest, they were sparkling with pure lust.

Placing her hand on the back of Miya’s neck, entwining her fingers in the hair at her collar, she leaned into Miya and whispered in her ear, "I think you want to play some of these games, Miya." A predatory grin danced over Noel's slightly parted lips. "I can feel the emptiness that has instilled a feral hunger within you." Her fingers firmly entwined in the hair at the back of Miya's head, and Noel pulled, forcing Miya’s head back to ensure her eyes met the intensity of the sapphire ones probing for an answer.

 When Miya had no immediate response, Noel leaned closer to her ear. "Do you want to play, Miya?

"Excuse me?" Miya’s eyes flashed angrily into Noel’s. Her attempt to pull away was thwarted by the strong grip at her neck. Miya was overcome with a feeling of panic. She was no match against the height and strength of Noel. The beginning of another incensed protest was stifled when Noel’s lips connected with hers. Noel pressed hard against her mouth. Her tongue traveled a path across Miya’s upper lip before beginning a determined probing to go inside. Miya balled her hands against Noel’s chest and pushed her away.

"Damn it, Noel. This isn’t one bit funny—or acceptable. The audacity…how dare you?" she sputtered. Then emphatically, she said in a fevered pitch, "I’m involved with someone else, and if she were here right now, she’d beat the living bejesus out of you."

Miya was appalled when Noel reached for her again, the threat of a throttling apparently no threat at all. Noel grabbed Miya by the shoulders and pulled her into her chest, leaning her mouth to Miya’s ear. "The widening of places / once held securely closed / as you reach to my heart / my secrets unfold…"

Miya felt her knees buckle, but she wasn’t aware of when she lost consciousness or the hands that caught her before she fell to the floor.

Continued...
 

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