Compromised

"What kind of terms?"

"Of ownership, of course."

"Ownership?" I wasn't as dumb as I was making out; I just wanted everything spelled out to me.

"I own you, now. And next week, we discuss the terms of that ownership."

I tapped the front of my belt. "You think you own us because of these?" I was laughing now. At her, at how ridiculous the concept was, at the plans I was already formulating in my mind about five minutes with a hacksaw as soon as I got home.

The Bitch smiled, then tapped her forehead. "No, I own you here. Mind and body and soul. You're going to come back here next week, because you want to. Those belts are just to ensure that you have both remained chaste in the meantime."

I wanted to protest. I wanted to deny it. I even opened my mouth, ready to point out just how stupid that notion was, but I couldn't say it. That couldn't possibly be true, could it?

My confidence faded. I said nothing. I bent to the box and started pulling out my clothes.

A couple of minutes later, Anne and I were dressed. The Bitch said nothing the whole time. She just sat and watched.

Anita walked over to the door and waited.

Finally, I stood and faced the Bitch once more. I tried like hell to think of something to say. Some parting word, some final protest... just... something. But there was nothing.

Eventually, Anne put her hand in mine and we turned and walked past the Bitch and back towards where Anita was waiting. She opened the door, let us out and guided us down the stairs. By the time we got to the main entrance to the cinema, someone was already standing there, holding that door open for us as well.

And so, finally, Anne and I were left alone, standing on the steps of the cinema, staring at each other with complete bewilderment.

"Are you going back?" she asked.

"Christ, no... how about you?"

"No."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. How do you think I can get this thing off?"

I laughed at that. "Easy. If you want, I can take it off in five minutes."

She looked doubtful. "Well... what direction are you going in?" she asked.

"South Side," I said. "You?"

"Just down the road a bit. Five minutes walk."

I held out my hand to her. "Come on then," I said. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"To yours. You got any tools?"

"Yes... a few... do you really think we should?"

I knew she was referring to the removal of the belts, rather than going back to her place.

"Why don't we start walking and talk about it on the way?"

She took my hand and we turned and started walking. And I started talking about how five minutes with a screwdriver would have us both free and how we'd never again have to deal with such strange people.

And we both knew we'd be back in front of the Bitch the following night.