That was very weird, but at least it went well. Jenny turned back into proper Officer Rask as soon as the cops and medics came in. She leaves her nipples alone – even if I swear they’re trying to tattle on me the entire time the fuzz is here – and no one has any problems with her story. They hauled Pink and Dust away without a word of concern or doubting my motives.

Olivia even woke up at one point when she was being looked over, just long enough for them to make sure she was fine, to get a nice loving kiss, and then curl up on our bed instead of on the couch. Nobody minded having to take out Mind Bore. She does have a bit of a reputation.

A few officers fawned over Aurora, who seemed more than happy with the attention before falling back asleep. Her eyes were a little less gray and that made me more than a little happy. I’m definitely going to have a little conversation with Dust about that. If she wasn’t in police custody I would probably make it a spark to heart conversation but I don’t think they would enjoy me mind screwing a prisoner even if she deserved it. Sigh.

Once everyone leaves, everyone besides Jenny that is, her instantly regained composure melts away like warmed cream. “Mmm . . .” She leans back against the doorway, closed luckily, and her face slowly twists back into the look of melted pure erotic bliss. “’s a long day . . .”

If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t believe it. The instant loss of focus just has this hot sting of wrongness to it. Guilty pleasures are always the best ones, aren’t they? “Yeah . . . It’s been one of those days that just never ends . . .” I couldn’t pry my eyes away from her body if I wanted to. Something about doing that would just seem wrong right now. She seems to enjoy being watched. “I appreciate your help.”

“Thanks . . .” Her voice sounds so sleepy as if just saying the word could be enough to drain away the last of her consciousness. Her eyes are so hooded it’s hard to make out their color. The shadow of her nipples are still so visible as one of her hands moves up slowly as if in a daze and she starts to very slowly squeeze her breast right through that uniform. Why does a girl being in uniform make her a thousand times more attractive, even if she already has the perfect curvy body beforehand?

She really is a sweet cop, even if it would be nice if she was a little bit willing to break the rules that slight little bit before it actually becomes dirty. I guess that helps keeping the slippery slopes like me from going too far off the deep end. It also makes her little show that much more scintillating. “No, thank you. You can take a seat on the couch if you want, unwind before you go . . . You seem a little tired.”

“Huh . . .? Yeah, I am . . .” Jenny pulls the cute hat back off her head and sets it down before she slides her long pretty fingers through her bright blonde hair. Her other hand is still kneading at her chest, fingers soon adjusting to pinch and twist at her nipple. “Really out of it . . . Dunno why . . .”

Olivia is right in the other room, just a few steps away, but for some reason this doesn’t seem as wrong as it should. Maybe it’s the adrenalin rush melting away making me a little fuzzed around the edges, but it’s . . . it’s just different from what would be wrong. If anything, I didn’t do this to her. Simply sending her away wouldn’t be right. Taking advantage of her to get a little tipsy would surely be worse. Indulging her might just be for the best. “if you want, you can take off your top, I won’t mind . . . You might just need to get this out of your system . . .”

“Yeah, it’s pretty hot in here . . .” Her voice mumbles as if she barely hears me, but she still works at the large buttons all the same. Her skin underneath is glistening, sweat highlighting her skin’s texture in just the perfect way as the openness accentuates her cleavage.

The top is still just one or two buttons too high to be the perfect view, but she doesn’t look anywhere near stopping. Something about watching a woman with maybe a third of her wits about her slowly reveal herself is a new level of voyeuristic. I didn’t do this to her, but I’m more than enjoying the effect. There’s a different pleasure to just enjoying the juice someone else has squeezed from a very supple piece of fruit.

Slowly she pops off the next button and my breath freezes up in my throat. It’s such a private moment, but making it otherwise only makes it better. “Wait, huh? Get what out of my system?”

Gently I slide my hand out to half hold, half caress her cheek to try and help her relax. There’s no way she can fight what Nightshade did to her, whatever “the dance” is, so she may as well enjoy it. If you’re going to be mind twisted and you’re in a safe environment there’s no reason not to enjoy it. It’s one of the best feelings there is. “It doesn’t seem like you’re just feeling a little hot in here, really . . .”

“Huh . . .?” Jenny blinks, looking a little confused as the last button I’ve been waiting for pops. Just past the rim of blue her soft lacy purple bra comes into view, cradling her breasts in just the right way to make the full natural curve that much more appealing. Her nipples look so hard against the fabric, almost as if they were trying to break past it. Her lips part, moving in the air as if trying to remember how to speak as her eyes hood more. “Yeah . . . Weird . . . Not cold . . . Nipples feel all . . . breasts kinda . . .”

Her expression turns from one of absolute confusion to being lost and half asleep, as if the word she was looking for found her and dragged her deeper into the haze. It must be more haze than solid focus in her mind. I’d love to be a fly between her ears . . .

“You seem a little . . . bothered . . .” My fingers keep moving, but it hardly feels like I’m moving them, more as if they’re being drawn against her skin by the blood flowing under her flushed face. I can just imagine sliding a spark just between those sweet breasts, it would make her nipples pop in just the right way if they aren’t already as stimulated as they can be. Whether I should or not, I surrender in to the moment and let my other hand fall to her thigh. “You look like you’re enjoying it, at least . . .”

“Huh . . . Yeah . . . Nice . . .” Her head nuzzles sweetly into my hand, so dreamily. Her powder blue nails look so pretty as they pop the last of the buttons and slowly work to coax her creamy breasts free of her bra. The left looks just sweetly larger than the right, just a little detail that makes watching her all the more delightful. Her fingers move back to resume their earlier playing, closing around her nipples and slowly stroking around them, pulling them in lazy circles as her eyes look so far away, so glazed and dull in an undeniably thigh warming way. “Nice . . .”

A whimper melts from my lips as I watch and slide my hand just a little higher on her thigh. Everything about this moment feels so perfect, arousing and at the same moment so sacred. My eyes feel like they might just be a little glazed. “Tell me . . . Level with me . . . How do you feel about us super girls . . .?”

She sighs as her head rolls back against the couch. Lulled is the perfect word for her, every part of her lulled, sinking into the tender sensation of each and every soft little moment as her eyes flutter. Between her soft sounds and breathless words her mouth can’t seem to close. Her shoulders are so very slouched, heavy in the sweetest way. “Horny . . . Nipples hard . . . Mmmmm . . . Reminds me of that . . . urban legend . . .”

“No worries I just . . . I just thought I would ask when you seem very . . . open . . .” As she sighs I follow suit. It feels so sweet to watch. It’s tempting to interfere, to add my own touch, but it’s so perfect without me moving in. It feels so divine. “What urban legend, sweetheart . . .?”

“Dunno . . . just like stories of . . . Mmmm . . .” Her fingers keep working, so softly but intently. Every breath and twist makes her breasts shake in just the right way to make my own harden. “Of . . . mmmrr . . . like, people coming . . . kinda bimbo . . . nipple horny, sorta . . . tired? Like this . . . story is about this kinda kinky ninja, and like . . . A lot of girls she encounters end up . . . Like . . . Their nipples make them really . . . tired . . . horny . . . hazy . . . sexed up . . . just a story . . .” Her smile turns so dreamy as her head continues to lull on her shoulders, so warm and sweet.

And here I’d thought Nightshade was on the straight and ninja narrow. Well, besides doing quite obviously sexual things to lady officers. “Oh . . .? Do the stories say just how long these yummy fun things last on the kinky ninja’s victim . . .?”

“Snnn . . . Long time . . . bimboized nipple horny or something like that . . .” She sighs in the most euphoric way as she twists her nipples into her breasts a little harder, mewling. “Something like that . . . Ran into a girl claimed it happened . . . She was pretty out of it when she . . . mmmm them . . . but otherwise . . . fine . . . had to be faking . . .” Her eyes close as she lets out the sweetest little sigh and a slow shudder melts out along my body.

“What if I told you . . . That you just might have met that ninja?” I can’t resist anymore, even if I should. I slide my hand slowly down from her cheek to trace my fingers along the curves of her breasts, fingers dancing just so, pressing with faint circular touches. “That you might have been turned into one of those sleepy nipple bimbos . . .?”

Her eyes try to open and glance into mine, but they look far too heavy. Her body arches into my touch and I can’t help but mewl. “S . . . sleepy . . . nipple . . . bim . . . bo? Can’t be just . . . just . . . I’m juuuust . . . Mmmrr . . . Nipple bimbo . . .? Naw . . .”

I can’t take it anymore and she seems to enjoy being touched . . . Gently I pull her hands away from her nipples and replace them with my own. Pulling, pressing . . . Close as I can I try to match the rhythm she had.. “Then tell me . . . Do you normally let me play with your breasts . . .?”

“I . . . I do . . .? Maybe . . . h-hard to . . . remember . . . They’re so hard . . . Warm . . . T-tingling . . . Fuzzy . . . Like . . . a little buzzing in my head . . .” The slits of her eyes look so tired as she tries to grasp at her breasts around my hands. My touch seems to pull her eyes back into her head and she gasps in the same perfect, helplessly trapped way she did when she was feeling the needles.

Gently I give them just a little bit more of a twist, sliding just a little spark into each hard nub of flesh, quivering at the reaction. It’s so hot, it’s so wrong, but I can help her with this after . . . “But it’s okay, you’re safe with me, and I think you know that . . . safe to let go . . .”

“Bzzzz . . . So loud . . . Can’t think . . . horny . . . heavy . . . nipplessss . .. mmmm!” They do harden, just a little more at the feeling of the sparks. Her eyes glaze as if they were covered in a faint layer of sugar, and they look so much more beautiful for it. They slightly cross, focused on some invisible point just beyond the center of her vision, as she shudders towards me.

“Don’t really need to think that much right now anyway . . . You’ve helped me out a lot . . . For now you should just rest . . .” Just a little more sparking, just a little more touching . . . It’s so naughty, but at the same time, it feels fun, it feels safe and not dangerous or twisted at all. I owe Nightshade the gift of not telling Mystic just who did this to Jenny, but I can’t very well leave her like this. It’s absolutely yummy, but it’s not something that should be permanent. “So cute . . .”

Her back continues to arch more towards me, and she mewls as her hands fall limply at her sides. Her lips grind pitifully out towards nothing, making her breasts shake pleasantly around my fingers.

My fingers flick at the tips of her nipples before I finally pull my hands back with a soft smile. She looks far too delicious like this, but so pitiful at the same time. I hardly think she’d be so willing to indulge my desires for her like this if she wasn’t . . . compromised. “As much as I’d like to keep this up well . . . anything more . . . just . . . my sweet Olivia is asleep right in the next room so well . . . probably already took this more than a little bit too far . . .”

“I could always see if Olivia reacts the same.” Nightshade’s voice speaks in the same level tone, and I just about scream at the shock of hearing her. She’s standing just above me, behind me, and who knows how the hell long she’s been watching me. She’s not even smiling or smirking or anything like that. It’s more than a little creepy.

Already, Jenny’s hands are going back to their previous work on her breasts with my hands pulled away.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” I can feel the blood draining from my face quicker than I’ve ever felt it before. “Olivia didn’t do anything to you . . . and I can overlook a little harmless fun, but . . .” To illustrate my point I glance back at “Officer” Jenny for just a moment more before staring at Nightshade. My look must scream that I don’t like my odds pitted against Nightshade, but I still won’t let her try to do anything to Olivia.

“Only an offer. I meant no disrespect. When a woman reacts properly to the dance, it means she has certain . . . Points of clustering bliss that can be opened, in the breasts and nipples, clusters that speak directly to the parts of the mind that make the pussy drip and the drowsiness of rest and the pleasures of lust. I am honor bound by The Order to unlock such clusters whenever encountered.” Her tone actually sounds surprised. I really don’t think she expected me to be offended or aggressively upset at all. “I would not touch her if you did not wish it.”

She even bows, and it is a faint bow, but nothing means nothing to her. Every movement is exact. Every word is chosen precisely. She really didn’t mean to threaten the mind or body of my lover. Damn. I was sure my paranoia had evened out finally, too.

Knowing what she did was not quite what I heard gives Jenny’s fascination with her own chest a whole new meaning. Watching her fumble with her nipples, so focused and brazen, makes so much sense. “Sorry Nightshade. That was just bad timing. Sort of feeling a little guilty and things like that . . . I trust you. I’m just feeling a little suspicious and . . . The Order? Can you tell outsiders about this order, or is that sacrosanct?”

“Where I trained. They . . . are not nice people. They trade women – sexual slavery. Toys. Gifts. But I am honor bound to keep my oaths, even though I have broken my bonds. This is one of them. Your friend . . . will only find her nipples are . . . much more than they were. Her breasts . . . impossibly arousing and tiring. But once she gets a hang of it, she will not be a slave to it as she is now. That takes . . . further effort. It is a gift . . . not a curse.” Her words are beyond sincere. I might sometimes be a horrific judge of character, but even I can gauge this.

“You know, I don’t think of you as the twisted sort, at least in any bad ways, but for just a second . . . I guess I’m just a little over protective of my sweetheart at the moment.” Sighing I fall back against the couch and nod just a little. “I guess I know how that is. I learned a lot from a place that in retrospect wasn’t really all that great . . .” How much of my powers do I owe to Windy? Would they be as strong without her help?

Is there a chance Chronos is what woke that white light inside my head? That thought is as scary as it is strangely comforting. Something tells me the power would have manifested sooner or later even if Windy hadn’t helped.

I’m also a little tempted to find out just what she used to “stabilize” and enhance my powers. Maybe using it a little more could be helpful. Not curious enough to really do anything about it, but . . .

My gaze slides back to Nightshade, and I hope my softened expression lets her know I really don’t have anything against her. “I don’t really know if I would want you to give it a try with Olivia, but I . . . I do appreciate the offer. Really. Just not so sure . . . Do you ever miss The Order, even knowing all of that?”

“I will tell you something. It will add to your debt.” Her facial expression actually changes. It looks . . . sad. Not torn with sorrow, but expressively sad. Of course, it is hidden behind her ninja shroud, but still it’s still a sad look. I’ve never seen her look like that before. It’s not something I would have wished to see either.

No one ever wants to make those British guards cry.

“My sister . . . Did the dance upon me, when I first attempted to leave. I . . . I took less steps than your friend here . . . Less than anyone I have ever heard of. Perhaps, because of how much I wanted it. Inside. She did not only open those . . . nodes . . . in me. She went much further. There are parts of my body and my mind that I am very much a slave to. Certain habits I can not break from my time there . . .” Her voice tenses, just slightly. Her pauses already say so much with how steady her speech usually is, but the tone says so much more. “I was lucky to get away after that. It was not skill that allowed my escape, and yet . . . All of my dreams, and none of them are nightmares, happen within the order.”

Trying not to seem pitying I smile just a little sadly and nod. We have so much in common. “Then . . . We understand each other a lot better than I thought we might. You seemed untouchable, it’s hard to imagine that . . . but if you ever need any help, and not just to break our debt even . . . Well I understand how that can feel, but you already know that.”

“Yes. And if you ever attempt to touch me without invitation knowing what you know . . .” She turns, and starts to walk once again back into the kitchen. “I will kill you.”

“Feel free to grab a snack in there . . .” I don’t expect her to hear me, but it only feels appropriate. She just told me her deepest secret and threatened my life within the span of just a few minutes. It feels an appropriate combination for her. I guess I sized her up pretty well at first, after all.

Of course, now that our heart to heart is over, I still have a very sleepy and a very sleepy, very horny police officer to deal with. At least now I don’t have to drag her to Mystic’s. I have the feeling that while she would help she would be rather annoyed with me, especially knowing what was done and by whom. They did know each other before I met them – she probably knows.

Everyone has a dark and sordid past, I guess, it’s just a matter of how dark and if the sordid details are arousing or frightening. A part of me hopes I never have to see Nightshade’s order.

Another part wonders if her sister looks just as good as she does.

“Now Jenny . . . For now we should probably try and teach you how to wear clothes over those . . . I have some things to take care of. I feel a little like I don’t want to stay still, you know?” I’m sure if asked nicely she would stay and watch over Olivia and Aurora, even without being a sleepy nipple slut.

If I were to just glance at her face she would look asleep. Looking any lower it would be more than clear she was awake with her fingers tugging her nipples in a heavy rhythmic pattern. Her hips roll in the same pattern, arching and grinding in such a primal needy way even for her seeming exhaustion. There’s something thigh warming about a woman who looks like she could fall asleep if not for a deep, dripping need to play with her breasts.

She doesn’t respond, and it’s adorable, but . . . “Can you hear me Jenny . . .? I’m kinda . . . kinda feeling antsy, like I need to move. I still have a few questions I need to bother people who won’t answer them well with . . . Think you can hold down the fort, keep everyone here watched over?”

Now that I really think of leaving, though . . . I feel more than a little tired. Maybe I should have put on a bra because I can really feel my nipples rubbing against my blouse, softly singing, calling out . . . “Mmmmmr . . .” Jenny’s response isn’t really words, but it’s the closest she gets as she keeps melting into the couch. Every twist she gives her nipples makes mine throb in perfect unison, craving, begging to be touched.

Did Nightshade, did she . . .? Whimpering I just squirm and moan, enjoying the feeling. It’s so nice to just arch into my own top and feel the friction send wet shudders through my body. I’ve always been sensitive, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this . . .

I know for sure I’ve never held my breasts just to feel my pulse through a blouse before. I’ve definitely never done it so close to a police officer. That does make it a little better, no, a lot better.

It really is nice, makes me feel dreamy and hot, drifty and warm like being wrapped up in heat and silk. Makes me feel kinda needy, kinda horny, to just hold my breasts, feel my nipples throb in a way that makes me think of holding one of my old body pillows, kneading, just squeezing and . . . Now that I think about it, I really don’t remember Nightshade getting from my left to my right, and I am drenched in sweat . . .

Hell, I coulda sworn she’d confided in me and well . . . She did say it was something she couldn’t resist, honor bound and trained or something something . . . Whimpering I knead firmly as I can, pressing my palms into my nipples that feel so much more sensitive than they should, so much harder, so fucking good. The dance . . . I’m reacting to the dance . . . at least it took further effort to enslave. Though it takes . . . getting used to? That might be tricky for a woman like me . . .

It’s like taking a warm bath right before bed, no, a shower, waves of steam melting across my body and soothing everything away. Everything feels like warm fuzzy sleep. My eyes feel so heavy, heavier the more I touch.

Jenny keeps moaning, tugging on her nipples. She definitely understands how this feels. She definitely seems to be enjoying herself.

With all the things people have done to my body, to my breasts, it’s so meltingly impressive that someone can make me feel something so . . . different. So good. Something that stands out even after all the times people have made me feel my body’s pleasure ooze the rest of me away. Groaning, I almost tear the buttons off to open my top, whining and grabbing my bare chest, kneading and melting into the couch, eyes so heavy, so nice . . .

Goddess my nipples are throbbing, aching and whining out. Touching them, grasping them feels like pulling my mind into my dreams, sex and warmth where everything just flows and flows. Each throb makes my body shudder, and each touch to my nipples feels like it’s straight to the back of my brain, each tug making my eyes feel so heavy.

Moans melt through my heavy lips, but I barely hear them through the haze. It’s impossible to stop tugging and groaning, feeling so heavy . . . makes me tempted to call Nightshade back to have her do the same to Olivia, she’d love it but . . . that’s if I can ever focus again, if that even matters . . .

It feels too good, I trust her . . . This is safe.

“It is better when someone else does it. You and the officer could help each other.” Nightshade’s voice would startle me if I wasn’t half asleep. Why is she just behind the couch? Jenny moans, but the fuzziness, the throbbing, is so much louder than anything else could be.

“You’re . . . You’re still here . . .?” Whimpering I try to reach out for her hands, so hard to do just barely able to see, but I have to try. Clumsily I rest her hands on my nipples and whimper, trying to tug at hers. It doesn’t feel dirty to be touching her anymore, it just feels like what I should do. Knowing how it feels, I know how much she’ll love it. Oh it’s like a sweet sleepy heaven . . . “Mmmm . . . should’ve known I’d react . . . always . . . reactive . . .”

Oh goddess, feeling Jenny’s hands is so much better than feeling mine, so much more drowsy, like sex and sleep at once, inaction and fucking, but not fucking, making love, more tender, more sweet, but just as wet, just as warm . . . “You asked me to try it, after I described its effects on the officer, though the dance does affect short term memory. I cannot refuse such a request. Even if you were half joking. Apologies.”

Faintly I can remember something like that, not sure if I was joking or not but, oh . . . Whining, I tightly clench my thighs before lazily letting them fall open wide, arching my hips, arching towards her hands and pulling in rhythm . .. I would ask for this, it feels so . . . “I . . . oooh . . . understaaaand .. . fu-u-uck it feels so nice! Mmmm . . . wish I could . . . repay favor . . . not that you’d want me to . . . mmmm . . .”

“What has been done to me is not the same. Thank you for the offer, though.” Nightshade bows, but it’s not nearly as fun to focus on her as it is to focus on those dull lazy tugs, so sleepy and good, like knobs linked to my libido and sleep at the same time . . . “I could see if your lover would respond to the dance. But I also can be off.” Oh just thinking about how good this feels . . . who wouldn’t want to feel this? It’s soooo good, worth having to get used to, worth feeling like just a pair of fingers could make me mewl and grind in the air like a teenager after a hard melty kiss . . .

When I go out I’ll just have to keep my hands away from my tits . . . not that I don’t already, but I mean, it’ll be a lot more important, a lot more . . . Mmmm clenching and shuddering, trying so hard to feel more of her hands, making her feel so much of mine . . . “Y-you’re wel-cooome . . . mmmm, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m sure she would end up loving it . . . make for some fun, and I think you like it too . . .”

“A woman’s breasts are sacred, beautiful things. Deserving of worship and understanding.” She doesn’t say or do anything else before walking into the bedroom. Probably going to needle poke Olivia . . . and oh Jenny’s fingers, they just don’t stop!

With her being so good to me I have to make sure I make her feel just as good, trying to twist harder, making my fingers glow, making my nipples and my fingers spark, grasping tighter, goddess it feels so good, so heavy, so sleepy perfect . . .

Making my fingers sizzle makes her shudder and go limp, so much more limp than before. She tries to keep grasping at my chest, but she just can’t. She whines, drooling and melting, just shuddering away.

Her fingers not touching me makes me whimper, but I still twist, still spark, still . . . Well I don’t really need hands free. Grinning tiredly I mewl and make my nipples spark, shuddering and crying out at the plummeting sensation. She moans and I melt and groan, so lusty horny sleepy, so good and perfect . . . any touch is divine.

If just feeling her hands, just feeling my sparks . . . can’t resist. Whimpering I try to move, grind into her, falling on top of her. Everything just makes me feel sleepier, damper . . .

Feeling her flesh, warm and wet with sweat against mine, makes me groan and cry out, sparking and clutching her so tightly. I must already be a little better adapted than her, I’ve had so much done to me so close to this, because she looks like she can barely do anything at all and I can actually hear Nightshade . . . it almost sounds like she’s saying farewell.

“You too . . . know where to find me if you need me, for anything . . . or even just want . . .” I hope ninja girl can understand me through my hazy sleepiness, but I think she can. She must have done this a million times . . .

Watching Jenny, melting and purring and dripping, goddess . . . “Can see why you got . . . got so horny . . .”

She doesn’t respond, but oh she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t grind back when I arch and press against her for dear life, but she doesn’t need to. She just melts, and moans, and her nipples feel so hard against my breasts as I try to make them kiss mine, shuddering as I keep them sparked, whimpering and mewling. Can’t stop until it all turns into a flash of white light, until I pass out, or whatever comes first, whoever comes first, whatever comes into focus first . . . was a good idea to do something like this before something stressful, anyway, something good and warm and wet . . .

I don’t know how long I spent just groaning and writhing against her, but if there’s anything I can remember it’s breasts. Jenny is . . . somehow . . . drooling on my bare stomach. My nipples are still screaming, begging really, but I can think quite clearly. Good for me, I trusted a woman who can twist a mind into a knot and I can still think straight.

First time for everything.

Just savoring the afterglow is nice, really, and I know I’ll never forget this . . . Groaning I pull myself back, peel really with how much sweat, drool, and lust melts us together, and the couch makes a slick sound as it accepts me. I fan myself with my hand as I button up my blouse, but it’s not anywhere near enough to cool me off. “I . . . whew . . . hope I can wear a bra without needing to go that far . . .”

The blouse makes my nipples sing, but it’s soft, just a little dreamy . . . and when I think about it for two seconds it occurs to me rather quickly: a bra will stop my mind from sloshing away.

After a brief interlude in the bathroom to splash off all the fluids I slide into the bedroom and smile. Olivia is flesh again, laying on her back, but her nipples are golden. Makes me feel fuzzy and want to grind against her metallic tips but it’s not as bad as anything Mind Bore did. It’s more like a side effect from allergy meds, and much more fun.

Eventually I’ll need to hunt down Nightshade and thank her for the very thoughtful gift. It’s the first time a woman I owe a favor is someone I really want to see again. Of course, that’s largely because I get the feeling if Nightshade doesn’t want to be found I am definitely not going to be the one to find her. Sliding on a well-padded bra I move back into the bathroom, finally realizing I need to wash this fucking lipstick off – of my face, and other places.

It comes off incredibly well for how easily it blocked my sparks. The dye doesn’t fade no matter how hard I make my hair carry a charge so I might actually need to do something about it, but . . . things look a lot better.

Worst case scenario with my hair, at least a shining silver head looks a lot prettier than a peach one . . . but I’ve been growing out my hair since I can remember. Sliding my fingers through every strand after letting down the tails makes me feel so much better. My reflection looks like me again. Now all that’s left is picking up my sweet little bike, and then I have a few appointments to keep . . .