How I Met Bethany, conclusion

This experience started here.

So, I had invited this helpless stranger into my home overnight, and we were getting ready for dinner... (Sorry this is taking so long)

You don't have to apologize. I imagine our readership is very understanding of your busy life and schedule. She's very busy, readers. She works VERY full time, and on top of that she's been directing a play that just barely ended. And then she has to come home and take care of me.

You're no trouble. Well... that's not true. But you're the kind of trouble I enjoy.

*Smiles wickedly*

During dinner, she explained how she got into her predicament. “I never had nice clothes as a kid. I was always the kid in school that other kids made fun of. When I moved to college, I knew I was never going to be as poor as my mom. I was going to break the cycle, you know. Then I got a credit card.”

I pulled a face. I had never had a regular credit card, but every store card I had ever had turned into a bill-collecting disaster later, and I swore off cards forever. I saved now for things I wanted.

Bethany went on. “It was fine at first. I bought nice clothes and for the first time in my life I felt like a popular kid. People looked at me. I felt beautiful.”
She was beautiful, I thought, even sitting in clothes that were too big for her with her dark hair in a wet bun on her head.
“I was making payments like should, but then Christmas came, and I overspent. Then I got behind on my utilities, and ended up buying groceries with my credit card, and… I don’t know, eventually, I was stuck and broke, and my card was maxed. I tried getting another card, but I was denied.
"I was living with my boyfriend, but then he broke up and moved out, and suddenly I was living alone in an apartment I couldn’t afford, but stuck because I couldn’t afford the deposit and other stuff on a cheaper place.” She drew a heavy breath. “I couldn’t get my bearings. They shut off my gas and my utilities. I paid my phone bill faithfully.” She gave a mirthless laugh and held up her phone. “Because if my mother found out how bad things were… it would just be bad.”

“So, you have a lot of debt,” I said sadly.

She nodded. “Not enough to call one of those consolidation places, but enough to be screwed.” She shrugged. “When Brad lived with me, I didn’t have to pay rent. He moved out and left me with everything.”

I could certainly understand her desperate situation, although not why she did not just tell her mother and move home. It would be uncomfortable, but at least she wouldn’t be facing eviction and repossession.

“Well,” I said finally. “You can stay here for awhile. My friend Tom has some buddies with a truck that can go get your stuff from your place. You can find a job and maybe we can get you up and running again. Okay?”

Bethany put down her pizza and looked up at me. “Why would you do that?” she asked. “I’m a stranger and you have no reason to believe I’m a nice girl. I’m in heavy debt and I’m a thief.”

I smiled. “You’re not a thief. Besides, if you steal something from me, I know where you live.”
Her return smile was weak. “I’ll find a job tomorrow,” she promised.
It's not earth-shattering, but that's how our relationship began. The next installment of this story is called How it all Began. FYI, Pura and Bethany are the same person. Bethany is her vanilla name. Pura is her slave name.

Pura is the name I prefer.

Me too. And very soon I will tell the readers why.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Felicia and Amber

Readers, this is a  entirely fictional story written on behalf of a dear friend. (wink-wink. You know who you are. And yes, I am up past my very strict bedtime.) My challenge was to write a platonic spanking scene that was purely DD, and not too cliche. You will have to let me know if I was successful. The story: Amber and her roommate locked gazes as soon as the door opened on its rusted hinges and let Felicia in. In the blue-hued light of the TV, Felicia could see that Amber’s eyes were swollen and red, and the shoulder of her tee-shirt had obviously been used as a makeshift tissue. She was wrapped around the teddy-bear Mya had given her and was eating the full tin of the disgusting holiday popcorn Felicia’s mother had sent them for Christmas. On the table behind her the foil-wrapped homemade candies appeared to have been ransacked, and Felicia did not dare approach it for fear she would be witness to the aftermath of Amber’s holiday-treat massacre. “How was you...
Read more

Homework Loopholes

The new school year has arrived Pura and I have a system in place for homework completion. The day she attends class, she completes the homework so it does not weigh her down. Now, of course, that does not always work out perfectly. When she is writing a paper, for instance, she cannot expect to complete the entire thing in one sitting. For these types of homework assignments, she creates a schedule and is expected to stick to it very strictly. Well, classes just started, and in honor of the new school year, I got Pura a day planner. It smells of leather and fresh, unused paper, and virtually begs to be written in. Every Sunday I go through and plan my week, and I thought it would be a fun activity to do together (not really fun), and it would help her stay organized. So last week we sat down for our first weekend planning session and we went through everything, including meal plans and errands. There was not one time period over the week that was not fully planned and accounted ...
Read more

When a Tree Falls...

I tend toward philosophical writing, but I know the readership of this blog is not reading for philosophy. Please indulge me: Mistress is going camping. While that in itself is not a philosophical topic, there is a philosophy with my being left behind. Poor little Pura, left all alone at home whilst Mistress whisks away into the dark recesses of the mountains to "get away from it all." All all? It's a camping ground, for heaven's sake! It's not as though you can get away from it all when you're sleeping in a camp ground surrounded by other strange campers, and a restroom is ten feet from your tent. Camping seems like an activity made for the rugged outdoorsmen, who carve themselves a place out of the wilderness and hunker down for a week of catching their own meals and growing long, grisly beards. Mistress is what I like to call... indoorsy . To this girl, camping is when she can't get room service to her hotel. When she has to carry her own bags to h...
Read more