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Katie opened her eyes and wiped the soap away. It was Sara, the team captain who just held the meeting. Sara was like a den mother, always looking after everyone. She was a senior, blonde and tall with muscular legs and a friendly smile. She wasn't the best player on the team, but everyone loved her. She was their glue.Katie was a bit embarrassed and put her hand over her dark muff and laughed."No I, um...."Sara grinned and walked to another stall and turned on the water. She turned to face Katie just as she opened her towel to not just reveal her perky, firm breasts, but a completely shaved cooch. She looked like a Barbie Doll. She then winked at the freshman as if to say, 'This is how it's done.'Katie finished showering with Sara's image in her mind. She went to dress and as she took the clothes she wore to class out of her locker, she realized her panties were soaked in sweat from practice. She couldn't go back to her dorm to get a fresh pair so instead she went bottomless. It felt. This time I wasn’t being tortured. This time I wasn’t waiting to die. This time I didn’t fear betraying Alex. I was doing this for him, and for myself at the same time. That allowed me to keep the pain at bay.I remember the first time I opened my eyes in almost a decade. As I had become more used to my HI-AI interface, I had spent all my time in the virtual environment. After all, when I was the Ghost in the Machine, I’d much rather be the Goddess Online rather than Broken Mary Donovan. What did my body offer me except for pain, suffering and immobility? So, it felt like I was raising sixteen tons of rocks by opening my eyes. I still had my interface, as part of the rehabilitation, but I wanted to spend as much time as I could in the real world. The light was nauseatingly painfully bright, but I still had some of my VR abilities, and sent a mental command to the light system to provide a minimum of light that I could open my eyes a squint without feeling sick.“Ah, Miss Donovan. I see.
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She turned around, and nothing. Perhaps it was her overactive imagination, especially tonight of all nights, when her senses seemed to be on edge and in overdrive. She felt tingles all over her body. ‘Calm down Jewel,’ she told herself. There it was again, this time a definite touch, caressing slowly along her neck and shoulder, just brushing it. She turned, slowly this time, perhaps by some fear that if she turned quickly the feeling would disappear as before. A man stood behind her, dressed as the Phantom from Phantom of the Opera, one of her favorite musicals of all time. She looked at him, trying to ascertain the man behind the mask. He took her hand, led her out toward the edge of the lights and the people, and began to dance with her slowly, in a sensual, erotic way. The song played in the background, something soft and mellow, she wasn’t paying attention. How he could slowly dance with her, so close, was all her mind allowed her to think about. Jewel was lost in that moment.

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