How Is Barb Doing by Doc

“So how is Barb?” I asked.

“She’s doing fine I think.  Aren't you going to ask how I’m doing, Billie?”

I gulped.  I was over Barb, and often wondered if I’d ever really been into her.  As for Erica I was slightly attracted to her, but after my last roller-coaster adventure with Bard, I only wanted rest.  How could I make Erica feel appreciated without charging off into something premature?

“Uh, sorry about that Erica.  How *are* you doing.”  I knew this was late and might elicit a grumpy response.  I got worse.  Total silence.  Finally I took the hint.

“I guess it’s obvious Barb and I are over and done romantically, right?  I mean, we’re friends and all, but that’s more to do with loyalty and support than with feelings.  Do you understand?”  My fingers were crossed.

“Well, she’s screwed up, but I guess I can see why you ask about her.”  She paused.  “I’m NOT fine, Billie, since you asked.”

Now it was my turn to stay quiet.  Eventually she resumed.

“In case you hadn't noticed, you dumb-ass, I have feelings for you…. Which proves I’m an idiot, obviously, since you have nothing but a lump of iron for a heart.”

“Oh!”  I mean, what was I going to say!?  I knew I was very romantic, not to mention sexual, but I needed a rest.  I wanted some solitude.  I wasn't ready (yet) to be a slut for another demanding woman.  I just wasn't.
“Oh, and Billie, you should know that Barb thinks you are a jerk.  I just figured you should know!”

I knew I should say something, but – though I doubt Erica knew it – I’d known how Barb felt in what I referred to as “The Last Days”.   They were not fun.  Worse than her taunts had been the knowledge that she wasn't getting any satisfaction from venting at me.  She was just fueling her own unhappiness.  I knew she would be better off without me.  I simply waited for her to storm off in a huff.  It took longer than I thought it would.  Still – I bore her no animus.  I don’t hold grudges very well.  I guess I see people (including old girlfriends) as simply bundles of contradictions, joys, hatreds, and so on.  I don’t see the point in getting emotional over facts.  They are.  People are.  It’s all ‘out there’.  It’s not my world to judge.  It’s just the strange place in which I pass time.

“So, don’t you have anything to say?” It was Erica, barging into my reveries and meditations.  I actually appreciated her interruption.  I get very wound up in my own thoughts and a good jolt from outside keeps me ‘connected’.

“Sorry, Erica.  I was thinking.”

“Fuck you and your thinking, Billie.  You need to wake up.”  I listened, wondering if she meant I should pay attention to her.  Probably.  She continued.

“Did you get laid a lot with Barb?  Huh?  Did you?”

I didn't dare answer that!  First it would have been very disloyal without Barb’s permission.  Second, how could I tell Erica that Barb was totally into tease-and-denial (with me being denied and her doing all the teasing).

“Uh, well…. Uh…..”  My voice trailed off.  I looked at Erica’s face and saw a strange look come over it.  A very, very strange look!

“Billie, in case you hadn't noticed – and apparently you have NOT noticed – I have some ‘interest’ in you.” She paused.  “Shall I be more explicit?”

I definitely knew I could use some clarity.  Figuring out vague allusions and reading between the lines were not only exhausting, but I often drew the wrong conclusions.  Guessing.  Not my forte!
 
I simply said, “Please!”

“I want you, fucked up as you are, Billie.  I want your obedience.  I want your affection.  I want your loyalty.  I want sex with you.  I want to hurt you when I feel like hurting you, and kissing you when I feel like kissing you.  I want control.  I want power.  I want you to cater to me.  I want it all, Billie.”

She had laid her cards on the table.  It was exhilarating.  Honesty always did that to me.  I looked at her breasts.  I knew she saw me staring.  My eyes dropped to her crotch.  She saw me doing that too.
“Would you like to be my slave, Billie?  Just as you were Barb’s slave?”

I knew I wasn't quite a slave nor had I ever been.  My mind bent to no person.  Well, not exactly.  My body bent to any aggressive woman’s sexuality; that part of my mind connected to my sexuality usually followed.  It was just that I observed that part of me from a distant place with the rest of my mind.

I nodded in response to Erica’s question. “Uh, I think so.”  I could already visualize Erica filling Barb’s boots.  Literally.  Barb had worn boots as she teased me.  She claimed to enjoy ‘messing with my mind’ and used to say, ‘I want you to get a hard-on every time you see a woman in boots.  I want you to think of me.’  She’d obviously succeeded.  I was hard.

“What are you thinking, Billie?”

“I was just thinking of you naked and in boots, Miss.”

“Good!  Now you have a question pending and you haven’t given me an answer, Billie…..”  I answered honestly, though obliquely.

“I would very much like to be physical with you, Erica.  And to get to know you in ways we haven’t yet…. But I have a request, Miss.”

“Yes?”

“Can we wait until the first of the year?  I’m still in recovery from my ‘adventures’ with Barb.  I am not ready.”

She grinned.  “Of course, Billie!  I can wait!  But I have a condition.”  I wondered what her condition might be. “No sex of any kind until you are ready for me – and then you do anything I tell you to do!  Agreed?”

I nodded.

“Oh, Billie, did I ever mention that Barb used to call you ‘my slut’ when we talked about you?”

I shook my head. “No, Miss.”

“Well, just in case you wondered, she told me all kinds of things about you.  In detail.  And I’ve been waiting a long time to take her place.  What do you think of that?”

I didn't know what to say to that at first, but then said, “I think you and she are very good friends.”

It was her turn to nod.