A Week to Remember

Valentine's Day was always a bore. Wanda had reached the seemingly mature of age twenty three and had yet to find anything special about February the Fourteenth. Each year she waited for that life shattering event that all her friends seemed to be constantly gushing about and sure enough the day passed like any other in humdrum familiarity. Not that Wanda hadn't tried. She had trolled the bars to find some passion, even placed an ad on Craigslist in the hope of getting a decent one night stand, but that had just ended with the usual unsatisfactory grope from a well-meaning but otherwise mediocre guy without much clue about anything, especially the kind of wild sex she fantasized about in the privacy of her loft.

The parcel had arrived ten minutes before she was due to leave the office. Wanda had checked the name on the tag twice before even allowing herself to acknowledge it was for her. Nothing ever came addressed to her at the office, even work related items would have a department or extension reference, never her name.

She read the label again just to make sure. Wanda Ringsome, private and personal. The package was very neatly wrapped and sealed, the hand written address label outlined in heavy black marker and the whole finally tied for extra security with red wax string. Wanda wanted to tear it open immediately but too many people where passing through the reception area on their way home for the night and she just couldn't concentrate properly. Sighing she decided it would just have to wait till she got home.

"You going to come for a drink tonight Wanda?"

Mary was a good enough sort and Wanda liked her company occasionally but just recently she had noticed that the accidental touches seemed to last a little longer than was comfortable and the friendly pecks on the cheek occasionally involved the tip of Mary's tongue touching her skin.

"Not tonight Mary I have a lot to do when I get home."

"Got a hot Valentines date tomorrow?"

The innuendo in Mary's voice was heavy as was the not so subtle request for more information.

"No date. Just laundry and correspondence."

"Night then, maybe early next week."

The goodbye hug was warm, very warm. Mary's hand was a little too low on Wanda's back for comfort and her lips a little overly long on her cheek. Wanda extricated herself and retreated behind the desk and in a helpful but rather pointed way pushed the automatic door opener button on the counter. Mary spun on her heel and sauntered into the street, her hips swaying remarkably similarly to a cat on heat.

The TriMet ride from West Burnside to 6th Street took no time at all. Wanda exited the compartment and quickly walked the short distance from the station to her apartment. Everyone was forever telling her how lucky she was to have inherited her grandmothers loft slap bang in the City Center but to Wanda the area was dirty, smelly and far from her ideal location. Homelessness and vice existed in the open here and no amount of street cleaning ever got rid of the stench of prostitution, urine and drugs that permeated the doorways. Certainly at night it had a bohemian atmosphere but like all city red light districts it also had crime and usury.

"Evening Miss Ringsome."

Chad the doorman pulled the heavy double door open just long enough for Wanda to enter but not long enough to allow any hope to the few miscreants lounging by the gutter.

"Sorry about the audience Miss. Have been trying to get the Police to do something about it all day. Seems there is some sort of parade tomorrow and they are busy putting up barriers and such."

Wanda smiled at Chad warmly. He was quite new but was very attentive and she always felt secure when he was on duty. In his early thirties he had the stance of an ex-military man and wore the uniform the landlords supplied with great distinction.

"A parade? How wonderful!"

Wanda's sarcasm wasn't lost on Chad and he laughed heartily.

"I am sure they won't be any great bother Miss. If you let me know when you need to go out I will make sure to be on the door."

The private elevator to the loft was at the very end of the hallway. Wanda's grandmother had owned the building for most of her life and when she eventually sold to the new owner insisted that the loft and elevator were free and gratis for perpetuity. The elevator opened when Wanda punched in her code and the ride to the fourth floor, entirely her floor was fast and silent. The doors opened and revealed her sanctuary. Luxury was something her 'Nana' had courted all her life. The furniture and decoration was beyond anything Wanda could have hoped to accomplish on her meager salary, although of course her work was simply for her own amusement as the inheritance that came with loft was staggering even in these days of multimillion start-up companies.

Wanda placed the parcel on the glass topped bar and stared at it wonderingly. Her inclination was to open it immediately but then she decided that perhaps a better plan would be to build the anticipation to an even higher fever pitch. Carefully straightening the box so it exactly lined up with the parallel edges at front and back of the beveled glass she began the usual nightly ritual that fulfilled her need for minute organization.

Dinner was easy. Being a good planner there was a full quota of nutritious ready to heat meals in the freezer compartment. Once a month Wanda prepared a selection of soups, meats and vegetables, carefully weighing and packaging them ready for consumption. There was always a choice of at least four entrees and three desserts, quite sufficient to ensure boredom wouldn't cause the dismissal of meals. Wanda had suffered from a minor eating disorder in her teens and now rigorously stuck to a strict dietary schedule. As with all recovered addicts she fully understood that just a few slip ups could easily lead to a downhill spiral and she had promised herself firmly never to travel that road again.

Dinner finished and dishes safely rinsed and in the washer Wanda at last felt she had piqued her curiosity quite sufficiently. All through the previous hour she had glanced over to the bar and wondered, imagining what might be hidden behind the masque of boringly plain brown wrapping paper. The handwriting seemed a little familiar but for some reason the perpetrator just wouldn't come to mind. Several times she had mentally listed all the possibilities from A to Z and each time had reached Zachariah without any further clue.

Carefully she began to attempt to remove the string. It had been very cleverly knotted in a fashion she had seen used to tie together the bamboo poles in some Japanese fences on her vacation in Hawaii. Try as she might there seemed no place to start to undo the intricate design so with a sigh she reached behind the bar and retrieved the knife reserved for slicing lemons. The blade was nicely serrated and a few quick strokes removed the first obstacle to the packages contents.

The package was three foot in width, two feet in diameter and four inches deep. The wrapping paper was very neatly folded and creased and then fastened with packing tape on every edge. Several minutes of fruitless searching for a loose corner and once more the knife came to hand. Slipping the blade into the paper at one corner Wanda passed the blade along the top edge till the layer came clean away.

"Well that's very odd!"

Beneath the brown postal packing paper the box was wrapped again, this time with a very bright paper of fluorescent pink and yellow stripes with "queen of the fucking universe" printed every few inches in shadowed black typeset. Wanda was starting to get hot and this little frustration suggested to her that a drink was in order. Again squaring the package very carefully on the counter she walked over to her refrigerator and retrieved a can of Root Beer from the interior. The ring pull made a satisfying hiss as it released and Wanda carefully poured half the can into a glass tumbler. Returning the can to the cooler she retrieved a straw, red because red is always best and sipping thoughtfully returned to the task in hand.

The fancy paper had been creased and folded perfectly but Wanda was glad to see that it was only taped sparingly. It occurred to her that this wrapping had probably be done by the store assistant where the item had been purchased and she quickly slid her fingers along the partially open edge and drew the paper aside.

The box beneath was of a very fine quality, matte black in color with a very striking pink and white heraldic design overprinted 'Designed and Handmade in England.' Wanda brushed the back of her hand across the cardboard almost expecting the texture to be somehow velveteen but was surprised to find it smooth and with a slight sheen. The box lid opened as a full flap and beneath was revealed the contents enclosed in multiple folds of black tissue paper. Carefully lifting the flimsy tissue Wanda gasped and her eyes opened as wide as possible to take in the wonder now exposed.

"A Countess De Femme Dress, a Countess De Femme Dress, A COUNTESS DE FEMME DRESS!"

Wanda leaned against the counter and fought for breathe. Her eyes never left the dress for a second for fear that somehow it might vanish if she even blinked. She had seen the dress at the Montreal Fetish Show the previous year and had regretted not purchasing it every day since. Certainly she had no real need of it, no particular use for it, but some items of clothing are beyond want and need, they are essential to the soul and now, now she had her dress.

It took several moments for the questions to dawn.

"Who?"

Wanda was always very discreet about her interest in the lifestyle. She had taken great care to conceal that part of her character from anyone in her normal social sphere and kept her dalliances strictly separate from work and family.

"How?"

She had never mentioned her affinity for this item to anyone. The Montreal Show was sufficiently far away to be totally out of sight to anyone who might otherwise know her. Short of someone looking into her mind and seeing the dress hanging in her imaginary closet there was no way to know her taste.

"Why?"

The hardest question of all. Why a gift at all and without as much as a card saying 'guess who'?

"A Countess De Femme Dress, I have a Countess De Femme Dress. Who gives a fucking shit about who, how and why."

Wanda began to dance. Just a waltz to start, kind of slow and sedate, but then speed increased, arms started to wave and the 'Watusi' came into full effect. The intercom buzzed and Wanda continued dancing. It buzzed again and she tried to ignore it valiantly. The third buzz and she had to answer.

"Miss Ringsome there's a parcel just been delivered for you. If you can send the elevator I will put it inside for you and send it up."

"Thanks Chad that would be wonderful."

"You Ok Miss Ringsome you sound a bit out of breathe."

"Yes I am fine Chad just been exercising. Thank you for asking."

Wanda pushed the down button on the elevator and stood waiting for the few minutes it took to return with bated breathe. When the doors slid open there on the floor was a bright red over sized gift bag, the top stuffed with black tissue paper to conceal the contents. Wanda picked the bag up by its beautifully striped string handles and carried it carefully over to the bar. Placing the bag at the opposite end of the counter she returned to the parcel so recently unwrapped and carefully replaced the tissue closing the top tightly.

She stood for a few moments to calm herself and when her heart rate felt something like normal she sidled along the bar and plucked the paper out of the bags gaping mouth. The tissue was of an amazing quality, feeling thick and luxurious between her fingertips. Using the bar as a table she carefully flattened each of the four sheets and folded them into quarters before placing them in a small drawer under the gilded occasional table slightly to her rear. Inquisitively she peeped into the bag and distinguish three separate wrapped boxes, one being almost cylindrical, perhaps six inches tall, another quite narrow and the size of a folded sheet of printer paper, both sitting upon a third perhaps fourteen inches by ten and eight inches deep.

Taking the small cylindrical item first she rotated it in her hands trying to imagine what it might contain. Unable to fathom any kind of an idea she proceeded to open the gold paper so carefully rolled and folded to shape.

"Gun Oil, how wonderful. Exactly what I need to wear under my new dress."

Carefully opening the top she put the tiniest amount on her right index finger and rubbed the tip of her thumb against the silicon lube. The feeling was sensual in the extreme and she could only imagine how easily the latex dress would slide onto her body once the product was applied liberally.

"Vitamin E and Aloe Vera how truly amazing."

Carefully making sure the top was secure Wanda placed the bottle to her left and having wiped her fingers carefully on a napkin she recovered from behind the bar withdrew the second parcel.

"Oh this is new."

The parcel had a small card attached and opening it Wanda read the brief message aloud.

"Not to be unwrapped till you receive further instructions."

Wanda huffed a little in disappointment and then giggled at her own foolishness.

"I think I can manage to wait a little bit."

The third parcel was a little difficult to retrieve. The bag was exactly the right size to accept the item but withdrawing it was a totally different proposition. Finally with a happy grin the box was in her hands and carefully pushing the bag to her right she laid the last gift in front of her.

This time the wrapping paper was gilt and had that almost metallic sheen as a finish that suggests real quality. Happily she noted only four pieces sticky tape held the very well-shaped paper in place and with slightly trembling hands opened the folds. The box below was obviously a shoe container and was marked with the manufacturers name 'Pleaser' and what she assumed was the style 'Delight'. She noted the size was an American eight, her exact requirement sure enough and again was amazed at the obvious research that had gone into these purchases. The lid was hinged and pushing it back she carefully folded back the tissue covering the footwear.

"Oh my goodness these are beautiful."

The shoes were patent black in color with the vamp and sides fairly plain in style. The heel portion of the upper and the under arch between the six inch heel and the foot pad were of a design that totally took her breathe away. The color was white but criss crossed with black lacing passing through white grommets perfectly inset at each side. The effect was like a perfect piece of corset ribboning, impressive just on the heel alone but being continued under the arch artistry beyond belief.

Wanda inched sideways and perched on the edge of a bar stool. Her eyes moved from dress box, to shoes, to lube container, to mystery parcel and she smiled and smiled and smiled. The clock above the bar said Eleven Forty Two.

"This is the best day of my life and it's still only February the Thirteenth."