Tomorrow

By the time Frank drove up, it was drizzling in earnest. "Whoa," he said on seeing her. "You, uh, you look..."

"Like I have jewels in my hair, I know," she interjected before Frank could say anything about her rain-washed makeup. "Remember the time at university when we were walking back to the hostel, and it started to rain? The damn water made my blouse translucent. You told me I had jewels in my hair then too, as though that would make me forget what you were staring at."

"I... uh... but the rain really makes you look so beautiful... I mean -"

"Oh, don't be so nervous," she said as she got into the car. "This dress won't turn translucent when wet. And we can talk about the other woman next week. I don't want to hear anything about her today."

Frank seemed relieved, and Rachel smiled despite herself. She was not the only one nervous. "Let's go."

Saturday, 19 November, 3:15pm

"Should've known this would be a trash movie just from the size of the audience," whispered Rachel. The theatre was almost deserted. They had virtually the entire section to themselves.

"Yeah," agreed Frank. "Too bad there weren't other options, they were only screening one romance movie."

On screen, the male lead was talking to an attractive woman while his girlfriend was busy trying to hold his attention. A cheesy plotline, it was only a matter of time before the clothes started coming off. Rachel snuggled against Frank, hugging him tightly. "At least I don't have to compete for your attention."

Frank hesitated for a while before placing an arm around Rachel's shoulders, returning the hug. "It's not like you have any competition," he said. "You're the only woman here."

Rachel gave him a playful punch. "I've got a girlfriend who studied electrical engineering. She was the only woman in a class full of men. You can guess how much attention she got."

"She must've found her assignments really easy, then."

"Don't stereotype. She was legitimately brilliant. It was mostly the men asking her for help." On screen, the girlfriend was deciding how much clothing she needed to shed. Considering the three of them were at a beach, that was likely to be a lot more. Rachel could feel Frank's fingers brushing against her breast. When she didn't brush him off, the fingers got more insistent. "You're fondling me," she murmured in a mock accusatory tone. "But it is dark here. No one will see us."

She saw Frank turn to face her. "You are so beautiful, Rachel," he said, sounding awestruck. "I've missed you so much this past month. Ever since..." Frank caught himself before he mentioned the other woman. "You are wearing my parents' necklace. They were sure you would have thrown it away."

"I wanted to," she said truthfully. "I certainly didn't want to touch it ever again. But circumstances change, and this morning, I realized that I still love you."

"I love you too." He gave her breast a squeeze. "I just feel sorry for the girlfriend. Now she's got you competing for my attention as well."

Rachel's mind whirred, and she came to a snap decision. "I can't let her win then, can I? " This wasn't how she envisaged the date would go, but it was dark in the theatre, and why not? On screen the girlfriend was down to her bikini, but her boyfriend was still talking to the other woman. Rachel smiled. The boyfriend was a big Star Wars fan, and was genuinely excited to meet a woman who knew as much about Star Wars as he did. Unfortunately for the girlfriend, it was not a topic she knew much about.

Rachel reached for Frank's trousers and undid the zipper. Frank hardened quickly as she grasped and stroked his member. "If you keep doing that I'm going to cum all over this seat," Frank said through what sounded like gritted teeth.

"We can't have that, can we?" She reached under her dress and pulled her panties off. Frank's eyes went wide when he saw her brandishing the garment, but before he could say anything, she climbed on top of Frank. Relying on touch, she positioned his cock at her entrance. Her pussy reacted as though greeting a long-lost friend, and he went in smoothly. "You will just have to cum within me."

"But - condoms -"

"If I get pregnant, then the moment of conception will be something to remember, wouldn't it?"

At that, Frank lost all inhibitions. He grasped her tightly, kissing her, kneading her breasts through her bra. Mom was right, she thought for a mad instant. Mom is always right. I should have bought that maxi dress, then there'd be no bra in the way. The next moment Frank's hands found the bra clasp; she unfastened the wrap dress and it fell open, exposing her to his view. The bra came off easily as she slid the straps down, and Frank latched onto one of her breasts, suckling like a baby. She gyrated her hips, and before long she could feel Frank convulsing within her.

"I've missed you so much Rachel," gasped Frank. "Ever since that day a month ago -"

"Next week," she interrupted as she rearranged her clothes. "We can talk about that next week."

Saturday, 19 November, 9pm

Rachel was back in her room, the adrenaline of the date fading. They'd played minigolf after the movie, sang karaoke, downed some ice-cream, gone ice-skating on an indoor rink, and finally capped it all with a romantic dinner. "Will I see you again next week?" Frank had asked as he dropped her off. "I hope so," she had answered, kissing him goodbye. I sincerely hope so.

She glanced at the clock. Three more hours, she thought, trembling. After she'd bathed and changed into her nightdress, there was nothing left to do, no task she could hide behind to avoid thinking of tomorrow. With no plan, she grew more and more panicky as the minutes ticked by. Usually at this time of the night she'd read or surf the internet, but today she could barely read a paragraph coherently.

Three more hours. A part of her wanted to research what the Overseer might do to her. It had hinted that it will violate her breasts, and she was sure there was some information she could find about such torture online. But another part of her really didn't want to know. What was she hoping for anyway? It would only make her even more nervous from the anticipation.

Time passed. I should write a will, she thought fleetingly. It had never seemed necessary, till now. She wrote up a brief document dividing her assets between Frank and Tilly. Dear Frank, she added at the end, If you are reading this, you have my blessing to marry the other woman. What was the other woman's name? Rachel didn't even know. May she take care of you where I no longer can. Then, feeling like Dr. Jekyll did when he wrote his last letter to Utterson, she added the document to the second envelope to be opened in a week's time. Hopefully it never will be.

Time passed. She wondered if she should search for ways to increase her pain threshold. The Overseer had said that it will directly affect her chances of survival. On the other hand, how could she work on her ability to sustain pain unless she inflicted pain on herself? Her mind recoiled from the thought, and besides, the Overseer had explicitly prohibited her from doing serious harm to herself.

Three - no, two more hours. She sat on her bed, the blanket wrapped tightly around her. She did not usually wear bras to bed, but today she had put one on. Why am I worrying about my breasts so much? The Overseer is likely to hurt my whole body. She hugged herself tightly, flustered at the thought of what the Overseer might do to her womanhood. Hopefully it won't do anything, she thought with a tinge of desperation. A human torturing her for sexual gratification undoubtedly would, but the Overseer did not seem human, nor did it seem to be motivated by sex.

Time passed. She remembered suddenly that she had forgotten to ask Frank to come by tomorrow afternoon. No matter, she thought. Tilly would surely notify Frank after she opened the envelope. Tilly... Tilly had likely gone to bed. Rachel would usually be getting ready for bed too, if it didn't feel like a surreal activity today. There was still the occasional car on the streets, and as she looked, one car pulled into her neighbour's garage. Fuck her, she thought. Fuck her and her husband and her kids too. Then she caught herself. I did not just think that, she thought desperately. Forgive me, neighbour.

Time passed. She was so tense she felt as though she might suffocate. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. The serenity prayer had helped keep the terror at bay for much of the day, but with less than two hours left, it was failing badly. At last, she could stand it no more. "Hello Overseer," she whispered.

The familiar feeling of the Overseer's presence coursed through her at once. "Hello Rachel. What would you like to talk about?"

"About tomorrow. It's less than an hour away." The Overseer remained silent, and she continued. "Are you still going to torture me?"

"Yes."

"I was hoping you'd change your mind," she said miserably. "Why do you want to torture me?"

"You've asked this question before. The answer has not changed. I want to torture you because it's fun. Because I want to hear you scream and beg as you suffer. Because you are young and female. Young means you can withstand more pain, while female bodies are more fun to torture than male ones."

Rachel bit her lip. The Overseer was repeating what it had said in the morning. If she wanted information, she would have to be smarter about it. "Is there any possible future where you don't torture me?"

"Mmm. Taking advantage of the fact that I cannot lie, I see." The Overseer sounded impressed. "The future is uncertain, and yes there are futures where I don't torture you. However, they involve actions on my part. There is nothing you can do that will influence that result."

"Nothing at all?

"Nothing at all."

Rachel's heart sank. "Is... is there anything that might increase my chances of survival?"

The Overseer was silent for a long moment, and Rachel had the impression it was fighting with itself over whether to answer the question. "There is," it said at last. "While I punish insolence, I also reward submission. If at midnight you are kneeling on the floor, topless, knees spread, head down, and with your hands behind your head, then I will be gentler, and your chances of survival increase."

Rachel said nothing as she absorbed the Overseer's words. She was being asked to humiliate herself, she realized. If she complied, she would be complicit in whatever happened next. She could no longer pretend it was the Overseer doing things to her. On the other hand, if it increased her odds of survival... as the proverb goes, a dying person will grasp at straws.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"How do you know if anything is true? Can you be sure that you're not currently dreaming, or that you're not in a computer simulation, or that you weren't created five minutes ago and provided with ready-made memories? You can't. It is impossible for me to lie, so I know I'm telling the truth. You on the other hand will simply have to decide if you believe me."

She desperately wanted to think that she was imagining everything, but she knew that would be fooling herself. She was clearly talking to someone intelligent, who had furthermore demonstrated supernatural abilities. Whether the Overseer was lying however... she took a deep breath. If the Overseer was lying, then the worst that can happen is she feels foolish. If the Overseer was not lying, then... God give me the courage to change the things I can...

She got on her knees in the middle of the room, facing the open window. The night sky outside was clear, with several stars visible. Slowly, she unbuttoned her nightdress and slipped it off her shoulders, the garment falling about her waist. Then she undid her bra clasp and slid it off, her creamy breasts drinking in the cool night air, her nipples rapidly hardening. Why did the Overseer say topless, not naked? She had no answers. She briefly considered disrobing anyway, but dismissed the idea. If it was not necessary, she would rather not do it.

Head down, knees spread, hands behind head. If she were naked, it would be hard to think of a more vulnerable pose, but she was only topless. Her hair threatened to obscure her vision, but she kept it in place with her hands. With her head down, she could see her breasts rise and fall with her breathing. I'm frightfully sorry for what you are about to go through, she thought as she watched her breasts rise and fall with her breathing.

Five minutes left. "Overseer," she whispered. "If I die, can you return my body to my mother?"

There was a long pause. "Alright," the Overseer said at last. "I'll give that to you."

"Thank you," she said with inexplicable sincerity. "Please, be gentle."

The clock struck midnight, and the world grew dark.

Epilogue

Rachel yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It had been another troubled night -

"Wait, what?" she said aloud, startled to full alertness. She was in her bed, covered by her blanket, with the early morning sunshine streaming in through the window. As she pushed herself up, she felt her breasts scratch against the blanket, and she realized her nightdress was still undone, pushed down to her waist. But she was unharmed. No scars, no aches, nothing.

I survived, and the Overseer healed me, as they said they would, she thought with a surge of joy and relief. Hallelujah. She pushed herself out of bed, buttoning up her nightdress as she did so. Tilly was surely working in the garden again, and -

Then she saw it. The clock on her desk, the same clock that she had watched with such trepidation last night, reported the time as: 7:30am, 20 November. 20 November? Didn't the Overseer say they were going to torture me for a week?

Last night. She searched her memory, recalling the fear and anticipation as she knelt on the floor, hands behind her head, breasts exposed. She remembered watching the minutes tick down, and the darkness that enveloped her as the clock struck midnight. And then... nothing. She had no memory of being tortured. It was as if she had fallen asleep at midnight.

Did I imagine everything? But no - on her desk were the two envelopes, exactly as she had left them. Tilly would surely have opened them, yet the envelopes were still sealed...

Rachel hesitated. "Hello Overseer," she breathed at last, half-dreading the response.

"Hello Rachel," came the familiar intelligence. "What would you like to talk about?"

"I -" she stammered, mildly off guard. What should she say? "I - What happened?"

"You mean since yesterday night? I put you to bed, you slept soundly, and woke up a few minutes ago."

"Wait, weren't you... um... you didn't torture me?"

"No. I mean, I could if you want me to, but torturing you for pleasure was never my intention." The Overseer paused, then continued. "Remember when you asked me who I was? I said I watch, I observe. I've watched you when you were born, when you first went to school, and when you first fell in love."

"I watched when you started ruining your life a month ago. You broke all contact with your husband, snapped at your mother, and moped around at work. If you went on as you were, the sum over histories was not pretty. Within the next month, there was a 25% chance your husband would file for divorce, a 42% chance your mother would throw you out of the house, and an 86% chance your boss would have had enough of your antics and fire you. From there, the patterns were dire enough that I decided to intervene."

"You lied to me?!" Rachel interrupted, indignantly.

"Yes, and I lied about my ability to lie. But - "

"What! Do you have any idea how terrifying yesterday was?!" Rachel fumed. She grabbed her pillow, and it took a conscious effort to not hurl it at the bedroom wall. "I thought I was going to die!"

"- But I needed to make you believe that you were going to suffer horribly, or it would not have worked. And it worked very well. As the proverb goes, 'live every day as if it were your last'. I put the fear of death in you, and you righted the ship yourself. In one day, you have fixed your relationships, and you did it on your own, without any direct help from me." The Overseer paused. "You may not like the method I chose, but the sun still shines a lot more brightly on your life today."

Rachel clenched her fists. She hated the Overseer for lying to her, yet she was acutely aware of how the Overseer could still torture her if she made them angry. Just like yesterday, she was powerless before this supernatural entity. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can... As if in answer to her prayer, she felt a new sense of calm. I should not feel angry at being lied to. Yesterday I would have given anything to not get tortured, and my wish was granted. God granted me the wisdom to know the difference. "Did you have to make me do what I did last night?" she asked eventually.

"You mean making you kneel topless and vulnerable?"

"Yes. It was scary!"

"That it was, I'm sure. But remember what I said about submission? There are things you can change, and things you can't. Osteoporosis, menopause, death - these are all scary things that you will likely encounter one day. I hope you will remember what happened last night when you face those things in the future."

There was a long minute of awkward silence. "What exactly are you?" Rachel asked finally.

"Your guardian angel. An evil spirit unhealthily obsessed with you. An alien interested in humans. God. Whatever you want to call it." She felt the Overseer shrug. "Is there anything else you want to talk about? If not, the code phrase will cease to work after this conversation. See you, Rachel."

"Wait!" blurted Rachel. "Thank... thank you."

There was no response. The Overseer was gone.

Rachel looked up. It was beginning to get sunny, and Tilly would not remain gardening for much longer. "Well, life goes on," Rachel murmured. She tidied the bed, and went to the dining room.