PART TWO r – the Bad Thing

  Then, I went and found the next tome in this series. Yeah, there it was. The good stuff. Girls that had been tied up in abandoned buildings, kidnapped into basements. Tortured physically and psychologically, some for extended periods of time. Before being released or escaping. What can happen to little girls that get snatched off of back roads, into the stereotypical van that drives them into the middle of nowhere for the fun.

  One teenage girl had a razor taken to her ass cheeks. The word "slut" carved on her backside. In her therapy notes, she admitted over and over she really had asked for it. Taunting and teasing men, enjoying it. It was extra devastating for her to finally get raped violently, eyes beat shut and face fucked up. And left go after an extended time in the basement of an abandoned factory and the word "slut" carved on her backside. What was called "corrective rape". She had to go through life with that on her ass as a license pte. No boyfriend, no husband could miss that.

  She had presented to the therapist with a undry list. Bad history of depression. Persistent refusal to bathe, or other hygiene. Wearing basically unwashed and ill fitting clothes, deliberately. Inability to date or form retionships. She had to be institutionalized briefly. When the orderlies had to forcibly remove her filthy rags to bathe her, someone had the presence of mind to go and get a doctor. Showed him what the "real" problem was. Why she was fighting the staff. The doctor stopped her bath and intake, and got a hold of her regur doctor and therapist. Get the fuck down here, and pick her up immediately. She doesn't need institutionalized.

  She had to show her therapist her license pte, and all about how it happened. It took her a long time to go into something resembling recovery. The therapist and doctor had to fight like hell, to get the system to understand that pstic surgery was not elective in this case, the welfare system needed to pick up the tab. It had required a series of hearings and decision makings and high level discussions to authorize such a thing on the public's health care dime.

  While strangers, many of them judges and wyers and many of them men? Got to see her license pte picture. Then men sat around and discussed it, decided her fate. Then finally "apologized" and "authorized" her pstic surgery. Then she ended up committing suicide a year ter. The "care" had been as bad as anything her rapist had subjected her to. Worse in some ways. His torture? Took a few hours out of her life. Alone with her. The system? Used many strangers on her at once. And continued the unwitting abuse, time and time again before deciding to help her. Help that came too little, too te, to save her.

  I went back home, and got there in time for the next showing of the Wizard of Oz. I asked if it could be started over, it wasn't fair that I had missed it. Other times, I'm sure that despite my best efforts I had just sat and wore a polite little smile through the Wizard of Oz before. It was genuine this time. I had a 14 year old teenage girl with problems. That was sweet and generous and giving to me, in ways no one else undamaged would ever do.

  So fuck it. I got up, and tried to do the cute little swishing side to side dance walk.

  This isn't some single A high school girls soccer team. We don't py in a grassy field that someone mowed and pissed some wobbly chalk lines down and bought official nets. Spectators don't sit on tiny benches that too strongly resemble lumber bolted to hastily poured blobs of what is obviously 5 gallon buckets of cement turned upside down for bench pylons.

  This isn't some Quad A high school, where the girls get to py in the boys football stadium.

  This isn't some small college. This is one of the big 10 schools. The boys football stadium? Is a little bigger than others. The lights? A little brighter. Technology and prices have fallen to the point we even have a small jumbo screen. No, the girls soccer game doesn't fill up the stadium like the big boys football games do. Crowd's a little smaller. The seats are better for those that make it, though. We sometimes even get televised. We know the tape will run te some night on some obscure sports channel, just needing something to fill in a 4am Tuesday night time slot. We know we're not prime time entertainment. But its something.

  The lights are still there, just as bright. You still get your ooh-s and aah-s out of the crowd. They roar for the predictable stuff, too. Penalties. Fights. Goals. There's less of the crowd, but they're closer to you, too. Almost makes up for it. All athletes just about have some kind of little dance or celebration they do when they score.

  In soccer? You always have to hustle. The game doesn't stop every down. Batters and innings don't change. You're expected to hustle, mostly non stop. The only time you get to walk back to your position, with blessings? When you score. That's the best. You don't have to hustle. The one that scored the goal? They get to walk back slower. Enjoy it, savor it.

  Lightning scored enough goals as a freshman, she brought her own little dance with her from her big Quad A high school. She was in the hospital, so she didn't get to do it at the final game she won for the national title that year. Pity. But, she got to do it often enough everyone's seen it. She's that good. Her and Right feed off of each other, and Right's celebration was kind of generic and silly.

  Those two run and gun so efficiently, they give each other so many assists and feeds its not funny. Lightning got her doing her celebration dance, and whichever one scores, they both do the same celebration back to their starting positions, before they split up and each head for right and left wing.

  You don't realize her celebration dance, what it is. She was a dancer at one time, and a serious one. Naturally her own little dance is a little better. She looks like she's about to fall over the whole time, doing what dancers do. They make you believe they can defy gravity and the ws of physics. She leans at some impossible angle, and never falls over. Swishing from side to side, legs sort of bicycling. The impossible lean changes from side to side easily.

  Kind of looks like something you'd see only in an old movie, back when the big names of dance were still up on the silver screen for the whole country to enjoy. If you don't live in this townhouse, you don't know what her celebration dance really is.

  You'd think it was something Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers would have done in a movie. Nonchant look, she pantomimes her hands in her pockets to cultivate that look for it, to really sell it. If you've ever seen Gene Kelley, he has that look. Rollerskating or ice skating, those big lean angles, hands in the pockets for that nonchant look. You know, to really sell it.

  But its not something she ripped off from an old Gene Kelley flick. She got Right doing it with her all the time half way through the season, and they're not doing Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. You'd have to live in our townhouse to get it. Or? Just watch the Wizard of Oz cssic, next time you have to shut the toddlers up, instead of hearing it from the next room while you do dishes or clean.

  You can't miss it when you see it. Dorothy and all her costumed friends are doing it in lock sync, down the road to a song and dance number.

  That's her celebration dance. I was surprised, it was one of those incredible looking dance moves, that once she shows you? Its surprisingly easy to pick up, despite looking so impossible and polished to pull off. Because for once, I came home and wanted to see the movie restarted. And I decided to engage my 14 year old daughter, instead of just tolerating her favorite movie yet again. And fuck it, I'm going to do this a couple more times, she says the "polish" comes quick on this one.

  Fuck it. Dorothy did her little dance back to midfield alone, then Right went and did it with her every time. Dorothy didn't walk alone down that road to get where she had to get to, she had friends dancing with her. Right is with her. Might as well have a threesome now. Light and Right get enough goals between them, I'll get to do it with them a bunch. And what the hell. I get the ever loving hell beat out of me, catching all the hell so those two can run and gun safely. I might as well get a little something back, a few seconds for me out of it.

  Just because our crowd's a little smaller, and our televised slot is the opposite of prime time? We still get the full deal. The announcer, won't miss any opportunity to get more experience. He'd announce a goddamn sidewalk spitting contest, if a crowd was there to watch. The interns that run the mini jumbo tron? They want their experience too. They go out of their way to make cute little animations for the pyers that do the same cool things any number of times.

  So yeah, if you score goals regurly? Those "tron guys" go out of their way to make the best thing they can. They incorporate your nickname into it, and try to give you your own thing. I've seen mine. Its an animated little "hurricane" that spins around, and takes out pyers. I get it for assists, I get it for pushing and shoving matches and the occasional fight I'm officially unofficially told its time for.

  There's really nothing like it. Hearing the crowd roar, and you know its you that made them do it. Gncing up over your shoulder, and seeing the big screen with your own cute animation on it. Someone, somewhere might even be drunk enough on a Tuesday night at 4am that our game is actually pying on their television and they get to see it. Hell, my boyfriend sheepishly admits that he used to stay up in the summers to watch girls sports te at night. Leg man, it was his guilty pleasure. Gotta be a few more out there like him.

  Lightning loves it, go figure. She was born to be the star, and was dancing her little heart out, and people liked watching her do it. Then, that got ruined. She had that stolen off of her, and couldn't bear to have anyone look at her and enjoy it anymore. So, she turned to soccer. And found a way to be a star again, and an even bigger one. She got to be on TV, and got to be a sensation that time. She didn't even get to enjoy her big victory she pulled off at the st minute in the final game.

  But she gets to do her gravity defying dance now. People cheer. There's predictably a lightning strike on the big screen when she scores, and pyers go scattering for it. The speakers bre a few seconds of your song, if the "tron guys" can come up with something identifiable for you. Mine? Well, its obvious. There's been a few rock songs that had "hurricane" in the vocal hook that they py a song clip cut out of one of those. Back in the heavy metal days, it was all about power and violent images. So, there's a couple songs that have to do with lightning.

  Her regur audio clip amid all the ones they sometimes use, is a fast speed metal number. The fast, accurate, crunching guitars sound powerful and explosive. Mine, is a little slower. More of a heavy metal power anthem. I have two audio clips, one an older song and one the newer power metal. She has two as well, but both from speed metal era. The one is in case she gets a second or better goal, it mentions lightning striking again. The sound and tron guys are as intuitive and creative a bunch as they can be. After a fight or an an injury, if a pyer goes out of the game? You hear the dirge music. The ref is pointing and questioning someone? Gumshoe theme. Someone gets carded out of the game? Taps gets pyed. It keeps the crowd engaged, trying to guess what the tron guys will do next, and the crowd can cheer or ugh if they get surprised or reassured. Its always something new every week, it seems like.

  The tron boys worked a big thundercp at the front of my graphic, so you hear an ominous thunder roll when you see the hurricane graphic on the big screen. Hers? They poked around online and found a lightning boom and explosion, and timed it to the lightning strike.

  She loves it. She can enjoy being looked at again. Because no one knows or suspects. She gets to do her gravity defying dance, hands in her fake pockets to really sell it on the way back to line up, and do it again. She really wants to get to do it for a big packed crowd one time, before her university career is over and she fades back into obscurity, from whence she came.

  And the only way any of us will ever get to be prime time entertainment, like we want? Is by making it to the final match up series, to see which team is the conference champs that year. Our conference is arguably the biggest and the most competitive. We're the bridesmaids, never the bride.

  That's all she wants. To have junior and high school girls tuning in all over the country one night on prime time, to watch the final series of games. Then them and their parents and their boyfriends will get to see her and her wing girl do their gravity defying dance. Hell, if we make it now? I'll make it a threesome every time one of those two scores. We might even get a ten second clip on the national sports news feeds.

  I'm sick of being a bridesmaid, and don't get to be a bride. I want my ring. For selfish reasons, to see if I can be an assistant coach or a coach from the notoriety. Its a good job if you can get it at a big enough school. But I hope she gets it, too. So her mom can see it.

  It broke my heart to see her get a hat trick for what amounted to our big homecoming game. All the pyers lining up with one or two parents and family members for the big photos. She just walked off and refused to participate, she couldn't even bear to watch everyone else enjoy it.

  When we all three went up for bed, she sneaked into our room. Little immature 14 year old face beaming, because "mom" had indulged her with demanding the movie get restarted, then learned her dance. I got to see what she should have looked like if she grew up with a more normal mom, one that wasn't clinically insane and just downright evil. What a smart cheerful 14 year old is supposed to look like, dancing with her mom and dad in the living room to her favorite movie.

  I "bragged" to my boyfriend, when I was finally able to hear the gritty details of it, and not run and puke anymore. He reminded me he puked once, hearing things like that when it was his first time. He said the MP's didn't even tease him for running to the bathroom. His mentor told him when he admitted it, that was his proof he really was one of the good guys. If you didn't get an urge to puke and shit when you had to face what humans were capable of doing to one another when they had a victim who had no choice? Then you were in this game for the wrong reasons. That it wasn't supposed to be about you, and how good of an MP you were. No. It was supposed to be about helping the crime victims out. For them, not for you.

  He said when you wear a badge, the guys admit that you sort of sit around wishing for a "good one" to come through the door. You know, something you can get a commendation for solving? And then one day the guys would admit, how wrong it was. You were wanting to high five a crime victim coming in all tore up. I asked him why he was there for interviewing something with the guys that had badges. He expined it as quietly as anything else that made him look good. He was the Wizard. Their mascot, their bright guy. From the computer department. He developed a knack for picking up on the little details no one else did, and they would look at each other, and say holy shit.

  Hell, I had even gotten to see "the Wizard" at work. Uncovering the clues he pieced together, that the victim didn't even know about. Yeah, they were heartbroken when their mascot didn't want to sign back up for four more years as an MP the second time around. He just wanted to go to school like his original pn had been. His mentor had sent him to me. Sent him here, to help Lightning out.

  It was where the universe wanted him, so the universe sent him an older sigma to help him figure out where he was supposed to be.

  So after I learned her dance and after she followed us in for another te night talk, we're ying here. She's in a bright mood now, and we're so far ahead of schedule, we might as well not ruin it. When the idle chatter was done, she asked it.

  "Well. Do you guys want some more out of me?"

  We know what she means. He answered her.

  "Actually? Hurry said we're really far ahead of schedule."

  "Really?"

  I nodded, he nodded.

  "Really. I guess, it was supposed to take more time to get you to… admit something happened. What it was. Then, to begin giving broad strokes what it was. Then, over time, she gets all the details. But… and this is according to her, by the way. You, are such a good client? You came prepared. You gave it all up, and lined it all up. Quick. Hurry tells me, you saved her a lot of time and a lot of work. So? Nothing like that tonight. We're just… talking."

  "Wow. I kind of thought… I was a real handful there, for a minute."

  I took over.

  "No. What you experienced? I'm sorry you had to go through it. But, that breakdown, was… its in proportion to how bad the trauma you experienced was. Yours was bad. So, the breakdown was bad. That's over now. It was supposed to take a long time to get that far. You did it quick. You? Star client."

  "No, I'm not. I'm an ass pain. I feel guilty you guys have to put up with me."

  "I'm not lying. I should have had to work my way up to such an important client as your case. Don't be embarrassed. I'm the one that should be embarrassed. You? Had to live through what happened. Then? You had to learn to live with it. For five years, keeping it all in. Hell, all I had to do was sit there, and keep my shit together. All I had to do? Was just hear it. I'm embarrassed, that I got sick. I'm supposed to sit there and take it. Because if you can stand it done, then you can stand to keep it in and learn to live with it. Then, you can stand to relive it, telling me? The least I can be expected to do, is sit there and listen. My main job. I couldn't even do that. So… I'm asking for your forgiveness. At being such a cherry at this. Do you forgive me?"

  "Hell yes. After everything you did for me? The least I could do."

  "Well, thanks."

  "Does he know what you did for me?"

  I lied.

  "I don't think so."

  "Can I tell him?"

  "Only if you want to. You don't have to."

  "I do. Wizzy?"

  "Yeah."

  "Hurry saved me. You know what happened to me. Then what it was like for me. Then I escaped here. I thought it was safe here. Then… there was a… well, a big girl in the locker room and the showers. The kind of big girl, that… has a crew cut. I think you know what I mean. Sure you had those in the service."

  "Bull dyke."

  "Yeah. The other girls, especially the older ones? Didn't like me at first. Thought I was some spoiled star brought in. They… picked on me a lot. Which is one thing, but… they kind of put… the bull dyke up to… you know. Big girl, like Hurry. Crew cut, so you can't miss it. Locker room. Shower. Pretty sure you get the picture there I'm drawing you."

  "Yeah. She put the moves on you."

  "She did. The other girls knew. They were ughing about it. They couldn't get rid of me, by picking on me and all that. I can take anything. But that… for me? They didn't even know what they were doing to me. I was going to be the ughing stock all over again. Just like at home. Except this time, it was going to be with a girl, instead of boys. You can imagine what that would have been like. For me. After everything. I wouldn't just be embarrassed… I couldn't take that all over again. Then… Hurry saved me."

  "Really."

  "Yeah. She's the Hurricane. None of the girls will cross her. She showered with me, wouldn't let anyone near me. She said if there was anyone close enough to touch me? Well… they didn't. She did it in the locker room, too. She… put her hands on a few girls, so they knew she was serious. She even smacked the… crew cut around. Threatened the captain and co captains putting crew cut up to it. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for her. And… my life ended if I had to go back home from my schorship. One way or the other. I know it sounds all… dramatic, but… she really saved my life."

  "I see."

  "That's another reason I couldn't have fun with Toot. Even though I wanted to. I'm not like the other girls. I just look at a guy, and decide on the spot if it works for me or not. Hurry? She liked you from a ways back. I knew who you were. I told her, he's fine. Enjoy it. I sure would. But… that was my smile, too. I'd just… wouldn't have sted even if I'd have wanted it to. More boys for me, for that. I didn't tell any of the girls your secret. So… when you got to Hurry? She could. You know. Have what she wanted."

  "You really wanted Toot?"

  "Yeah. Hurry had me see you in the gym. Like I said. I can just look a boy up, look him down. I know right then and there, if he's good for that or not. Its my css. Its a pass or fail course. You pass. Doesn't take much with me, Wizzy. I can't have what I want, so, I take what I can get. So? I'm a slut. But… Hurry? She's not. She… doesn't have a lot of guys she likes. So. I smiled and passed. You could only make me happy, one night. One weekend. A week, three weeks. Don't think I ever hit a month here yet. But, I knew what Hurry is like. She? Can get a whole year out of you. More, even."

  "Wow. I showed you my calendar. You were one of my calendar girls. Can't believe, my calendar girl actually wanted me. That's some fantasy level shit there."

  "Yeah. Well… when you look at those girls on calendars? Just goes to show you. They're not always that special. They might think they're lucky you go up to them. Like Hurry. She's your… rodeo, calendar girl. And, she's not damaged goods like I am. She can make it work. And from what I can see, and she tells me? You're her… calendar guy, I guess."

  "Lightning?"

  "Yeah, Wizzy."

  "Right now. The way you're talking. This? Is when you turn me on the most. Not… when you're talking about… what you can do. Now don't get me wrong. I like that too, I'm a boy and I'm human, and you're a calendar girl. But… this. The deep, bright girl thing? That's what I like the most. You do this, in jeans and a T shirt that isn't ripped up. And the guy likes you? Then maybe he's worth having you. Because if you have to wear a wham bam and a get lucky, to get his attention? He doesn't deserve a night with you, let alone a weekend or a three week-er."

  "You… really like me, like that. You like me both ways. Don't you."

  "Yeah. I run the risk of Hurry, and being in big trouble with her, telling you. I don't cross Hurry, any more than the girls on your team cross her."

  "Oh. You're not scared of her. I know better, than that."

  "Its not about being scared of her. Its about being scared I'd make her mad, and she'd leave me."

  "Wow. Hurry? I wish I could do what you do. I don't know how you do it, but… if I could get a boy I wanted, like him? Wow. What's the secret."

  "Oh… I don't know…"

  I rubbed his hair, pretending I was talking down to him, for fun. I know he's not mad, because I'm really not. Its our little in joke, and its fine.

  "Boys? Are like horses. I know horses. You gotta know how to pick them out at the auction. What makes a good one. Then, when you first get them? No secret. You take a little trip down to the barn. A couple good horse-whippings. Let that horse know you really mean business, that you're the new owner, and they better listen to every command. You make them respect you. Then? You can start to be nicer to them, like you really wanna be. Treats, rubdowns. The horse knows you love them, and they love you back. Then, you can go for long rides and start to really enjoy them. Then? There's nothing a good horse won't do for you. Ain't that right, my little horse…"

  "Hmm. You make it sound so easy. What's… the horsewhipping in the story. Making them know you mean business. What's that in real life."

  "Hmm. You set boundaries. Right up front. Before that first good ride. You? This, is what I expect. This? Is what I won't tolerate. At all. Then, if they don't do what you expect, that you told them. They do what you told them won't be tolerated? That's it. You sell them down the line, you get another horse. Then, you start over again. Sooner or ter, Light. You? Get better at picking a good horse. And, you get better at knowing how to handle one when you get a good one."

  "Again. You make it sound so simple."

  "Want proof?"

  "Sure… I'm all ears."

  "You. Horse."

  "Yes?"

  "What did I tell you. That first night in the woods. What are my boundaries. What do I expect out of you. We wanna hear it. Speak."

  "Oh. I never cheat. I either ignore another girl, or… better yet come and tell her. Immediately. If I cheat? Don't even come home, if I know what's good for me. Just… pack my little footlocker up, and move on. No second chances. She won't py that… makeup sex game, every other girl tolerates. That's the main boundary."

  "Before your… first good ride."

  "Yeah. She… showed me. What I could have, what I could get. I wanted it. Bad. That, was the rules. I wanted her to ride me, so bad I could taste it. Sounds good to me."

  "Hmm. I taught her that. Not bragging, but… she showed you the goods, huh?"

  "All of them. I mean, such a nice girl. Then… showed me all her goods. You? Can have this. Want it?"

  "Mm. You did, huh."

  "I wanted it real bad. This? Is one of my calendar girls. Rodeo girl. Yeah, I wanted it."

  "Hmm. I'm gd I could help you get it. Feels good. I didn't ruin something. I finally… helped. She thought it was bad to show you the goods. I told her to. Who's going to buy something, they don't know what's coming."

  "Lightning? I probably would have bought the product anyways. Not lying. But? Didn't hurt any."

  I couldn't prevent a little giggle escaping.

  "Well. It hurt a little."

  He smiled.

  "Yeah. But that was fun."

  "Mm. You two? Killing me. I don't even know what my… goddamn boundaries even are. And I know going into that room? One night, one weekend. One month would be a record. It don't st. Never does. No point."

  "That's just it, sis. You have some boundaries. I know what they are, too."

  "Ha. Ain't much I won't do. And anyone knows that one. Yeah. I'm setting some real boundaries on that retionship, Hurry. You? Listen up. No choo-choo. I expect a good ride. You want your three weeks? You better not bring friends home to watch. You better ride me good. Oh yeah. I'm a regur… horse trainer girl."

  "Well. Can I give my little sis some pointers?"

  "I sure could use them. I probably had Wizzy's before. And fucked it up. Been enough of them. Wouldn't even know a Wizzy if I saw one with a sign on him."

  "I seen you work a boy at a party, Light. You got that part? Down pat. And you know it. He's eating out of your hand."

  "Yeah. Then what."

  "You walk in that room? Before that ride. Hey. You. I got rules, and you listen up. Here they are. Horse is eating outta your hand right then. They'll listen."

  "I don't even know what to say. Other than no choo-choo."

  "That's where you're wrong. This st one. You had boundaries. And he didn't know them."

  "Like…"

  "Hey. Army boy. You wanna ride this ride? Here's the rules. You're gonna hear I ain't no virgin. Whatever. You're about to find out? I'm good in bed. Enjoy it. I like you. But I'm gonna warn your ass, and just the one time. You ever. And I mean ever… call me a slut? Call me a whore? Just once. You'll never ride this ride again. We understand each other? Don't think you're gonna run around. Talking shit on me, for being good in bed. Fuck that. You pull that shit, and I mean one time? No more rides. I don't py that make up bullshit. Fuck that. You like what you see? Those are the rules."

  "Hmm. I definitely didn't do that."

  "Boundaries. Hey you. I like to wear stuff that makes me look pretty. You like it right now, don't you? So don't think you're gonna talk shit on the way I dress. I won't put up with it. No do overs."

  "I've… never done that."

  "You can do anything that first magical night, Lightning. Anything. And that? Is how its gonna be."

  "Hmm. Some boys pull that routine. I wear the pants. You never heard that speech?"

  "Lightning. When you walk in that room the first time? Boy's eating out of your hand. You have the power then. You set the boundaries right away. You make them say them back. Okay… now? Enjoy the ride."

  "Hmm. And how do you make them keep it though. Boys don't come with a… whip."

  "You mean what you say. He calls you a slut? A whore. You walk, and you never go back. Someone will ask him. What happened. She was pretty. Where did she go? Aw… she told me that first night. Don't talk shit on how I dress pretty. Then? I did. Never saw her again. The next guy? Won't do it."

  "Hmm. Boundaries. I like it."

  "You have to mean it. They try it? You walk. You let a horse back, that kicked you? It'll kick you again. Remember, Light… I train horses. I know in the back of my head. This? Is a thousand pound animal. All muscle and bone. Its a jumpy animal. It can kill me or hurt me bad. You never get a second chance, to make a first impression. Don't kick me, here's what kicking me means. You kick me, just once? I walk. They kick you, you walk. Simple as that."

  "Oh yeah. Girl power."

  "No. Right and her… girl power speeches? Just speeches. Like, bragging to your friends. The horse don't understand that."

  "What does the horse understand."

  "They understand the whip, they understand the carrot. They understand yelling, and sweet talk. They understand they like to be owned, and they like to be ridden, and they like to be rubbed down and groomed. All there is to it. They have no owner, or they wouldn't be there. Your job? Set boundaries up front. Let the horse know what to expect from you. You? Are the owner. The animal should like you and what you do with it, and not want let go. No telling what the next owner will do to him. You have to be better than the st owner. You have to seem like a better deal to the horse? Then wondering what the next one might do to them."

  "Hmm. I like it. I like Wizzy, too. You already… trained him for me. So when I ride him? I don't have to worry about getting kicked. Or bit…"

  She smoothed his hair, smiling.

  "What about it, little boy… you won't kick me, or bite me, will you…"

  "You're asking the horse. You don't ask him. You tell him. Horses have owners. Some act up, some don't. Now… a big thing? Is getting the horse to concentrate on your voice. To ignore everything else. You own him, he should home in on you, and your voice. That way, you issue commands, and he listens."

  "Hmm. He listens to me. Not to what other… horses, and horse owners tell him. I? Like the sound of that. I need to learn about horses."

  "Wanna py a game?"

  "Hmm. I py lots of… games. What kind."

  "This is a horse. He has to learn to listen to your voice. Follow your commands. Come on. What do you think?"

  "Hmm. Sounds like fun. How's the game go, though."

  "Me. You. We're gonna take him out. Its dark out. I blindfold him. He listens to your voice. You lead him. Now… you gotta be a good horse owner and rider. He has blinders on, Light. You have to tell him. Two steps. Be careful. Hey, there's a big tree root. Step over it. You can't get all excited and forget. He trips and skins his knee? He ain't gonna wanna py. Now. You go good? He'll like it. Fun game. You can do it again. Its a trust building exercise. And? The horse learns to concentrate on your voice. To obey your commands. It trains you, too. To be a good rider. Wanna try?"

  "Um. If… he does."

  "He'll like it fine. Won't you, horse. Wanna let the new rider py with you?"

  He smiled and nodded.

  "You. Better be good. Don't embarrass me and spook my friend."

  "I'll be good."

  "You better. Go downstairs. Me? And Lightning. Will be down in a minute. Shoo."

  I came down with my little beach bag. And Lightning. I blindfolded him.

  "All right, Lightning. This is a trust building exercise. They do this at seminars. Let team members build trust. Team leaders, get their team members. To trust them. You want this horse to trust you? Listen to your commands."

  "I do."

  "You're in charge, then. He trips? Skins his knee? Your fault. I'm trusting you. With my horse."

  She giggled.

  "Okay…"

  "Its fun? But this is serious, Light. I don't want his leg broke. Because you were giggling. When you were supposed to be telling him how many steps down. You do good? We'll go further. You act like a giggling idiot? I'll take my horse back. Show me."

  "What…"

  "Calm your horse down. He's nervous. He has a new rider."

  "Well… how."

  "Use your voice. Use your hands. Don't just rub his dick through his jeans. Won't do you any good. Figure that out for yourself, Light. But you have to do it."

  She cooed to him, and kissed his cheek. Rubbed his chest and around some more. She took him by the hand, and he was very slow. I reminded her, he can't see. She was his eyes. You have to tell him what's coming. Every step. At first, she gave too many instructions and he wasn't any faster. She quickly got better. Figured out what was important. Every crack in the sidewalk didn't matter, but… that one that stuck up? Very important.

  I let her walk him around the big yard we practiced in every morning. Then we went out towards the trails. She finally tripped him. I reminded her, she can see? He can't. Now, he's scared. She had to calm her horse down, and earn his trust again. It wasn't as easy as just grabbing his dick through his jeans. He pitched forward. He was actually a little nervous listening to her now. It took her a while to get him moving again.

  After she was going good, he stumbled but recovered. She instantly went to him, and did what worked. Rubbed his chest and shoulders. Cooed soft in his ear. She quickly figured out what worked and what didn't. I had pyed this game with him before, its a standard psych css exercise. New to her though.

  "You're doing better, Light. Wanna up the game?"

  "Sure, but… shouldn't you ask him?"

  "He's the horse. He likes what we like. Wanna try?"

  "Okay."