Karen's Real Life Test
by : Karen Anne Summerfield
© October 2001

 

"OK, here's the deal, Karen." Judy Summers was quite pleased with the progress of the plan she'd talked her husband into agreeing to.

Judy continued, "Tomorrow will be my treat, all of it. I've made an appointment for you to get the works at Geshia's: hair, nails, waxing, and makeup. While they make you pretty as can be, I'll stock your kitchen with enough to get you by until next week and my sister is bringing a friend to move your things over and straighten up in the house.

"With me so far?" Judy asked. The attractive girl seated opposite her nodded that she was following what was being said. How could she object to what Judy was offering on top of all of the other things that were part of the plan, which culminated with the final surgeries to make her feel one hundred percent whole?

"From then on, you'll be completely on you own, everything: rent, car, utilities, food, clothing and whatever other expenses might come up. Initially, you and I will have no communication - none beyond you paying your rent. I mean that, Karen. You are just another new girl in town who happens to be moving into the house next door. We'll be neighbors and I'm also going to be your landlady. There is to be nothing more between us than that, at least at the start."

"But, Judy, that isn't quite what we agreed to." They had been married eight years. To treat her wife as a complete stranger after so long was not going to be easy.

"Still, that's my offer, take it or leave it. Look, Karen, when you said that you wanted to try living full time, 24/7, so you could decide about going all the way, I said I'd go along with it. After I told you there would be conditions and that I was retaining the right to change any of them up until tomorrow at midnight, other than those that were already in our contract." She was indeed correct. Well, for what she had agreed to, Karen didn't think that pretending to be strangers wasn't going to be that big a deal.

Looking and feeling as never before, for more reasons than the wonderful make-over that Karen had experienced that morning, she closed and locked the front door of her new home. Leaning her back against it, she took a deep breath and looked around. The odor of fresh paint still lingered, but it wasn't overwhelming.

Feeling full, she walked to the bathroom, closed the door and raised her skirt and slip. She had no ability to lower her panties and she'd never be able to pee standing up again, as she had before. Her chastity belt had been one of the first conditions which Judy had insisted upon. She steadfastly refused to discuss it or engage in any other negotiations until that had been agreed to.

All her care items had been arranged in the vanity and medicine cabinet. A set of mismatched, fresh linens hung neatly on the towel bars.

That day completed the first full month she'd been wearing the belt. During that time, her wife had opened it regularly to assure the belt fit properly and inspect for any damage, but sexual release was withheld. As a condition of Judy going along with - Karen becoming a complete woman, Karen had agreed that she would never experience male, sexual gratification again. The chastity belt assured that she wouldn't until a surgeon took a scalpel to her crotch.

Though they were only of moderate length, it was in the bathroom that she discovered how difficult her new, long nails were going to be to adapt to. Wiping herself carefully dry once her bladder was empty then using the hair dryer; Karen assured that everywhere underneath the steel and rubber was dry. Karen was aware of the need to be extra careful and to do so whenever possible. Irritation caused by a lack of proper hygiene was not going to be sufficient reason for unlocking her belt, Judy had warned. Karen had every reason to believe that her wife was serious.

To preserve her limited cash, Karen had done all the cleaning and repainting of her new home herself. Her 'new' furniture was an assortment of old pieces that had been in their garage and items from flea markets and yard sales. Until then, it had all been in the two-car garage at he landlady's.

The larger of the two bedrooms was furnished rather Spartan, though everything was clean. Debby, Judy's sister, had even made up the single bed and set up the mahogany make-up vanity, which Karen had made herself, back in high school wood shop. It had been set with Karen's things arranged neatly, ready for use. She sat on the stool before it to check her makeup and refresh her lips with the new tube that went along as part of her salon makeover. This and the other cosmetics from the salon, she arranged with her others.

"It is different," Karen said to herself, aloud before the lighted mirror. "Being a redhead is going to take a bit of getting used to." That morning, as part of the plan for Karen to appear as the 'new girl in town', her waved, dark brown hair had been cut into a very full bob, straightened, dyed auburn with red highlights and permed to curl under all around. No one in the neighborhood should recognize her now. She smoothed her bangs then stood

Furthering this plan, another friend of Debby's had exchanged Karen's ninety-one Tempo for the bright red Camaro then parked in the driveway. The car was no surprise, as Karen had purchased it at a dealers, two weeks previously. There should be little evidence that those who had known Judy's husband could associate him with the girl now living at eight twenty-four Wide River Road.

Karen opened the drawers in the scratched dresser, saw her lingerie and nighties neatly placed and moved to the closet. Uncharacteristically for such a small house, it was a large walk-in. At some point in the past, one of the previous owners had converted what could have been another small bedroom into the closet and enlarged both the master bedroom and the bathroom too.

In the other bedroom, Debby had placed her computer and peripherals on the work desk which it had occupied in Judy's house. Everything still needed to be interconnected before it could be used. In that tiny room, the only other furniture was the stool she'd used to sit on when working on her computer. Karen made a mental note to call the phone company and her Internet service provider first chance that she could on Monday. She'd just have to wait for them to get things connected before emailing her friends or surfing again.

There wasn't much in the living room - just a small couch that showed years of wear, the adjacent end table and a lamp on top of that.

At least the kitchen had been modernized several years before. Being on the south side of the house, it was bright and airy. No furniture occupied it. The contents of the cabinets were minimal.

Karen started a shopping list as she examined the food in the cabinets and refrigerator. Satisfied that there was enough to eat for several days, though mostly staples, most of the other necessities had either been over looked or omitted. She'd need dish detergent, cooking oil, salt, pepper, mayonnaise, mostly things one forgets when planning a meal because you usually have an open container about. Her list grew as she thought of more. Karen started a second list. It was going to be two weeks before receiving her first paycheck and some items would just have to wait until then. She thought that Judy had promised to stock the kitchen with enough for a few days, but here she was short on many items as she went through each cabinet.

The keys to her new car had been on the counter. With one set added to her key ring and assuring the house was secure, Karen walked out to her car. It was only when she had it started did the gas gauge remind her that she'd intended to fill its tank beforehand. A free fill-up had not been included in the purchase.

This was her first experience attempting to manipulate the pedals of a stick shift while wearing five-inch heels. As high-heeled footwear were about all she owned and it was her intent to dress nicely for the job, the tall redhead knew that it was a skill she needed to learn quickly.

First stop was the gas station, which wanted almost twenty dollars from her wallet then it was a short drive to the strip mall and her favorite supermarket. Cat calls from two teens in the lot after she had parked reminded Karen that miniskirts and high heels on a five foot, ten inch tall girl almost assured that she gathered lots of attention. She did not seek it, but it was a fact of life she would have to cope with from then on, especially with her attractive face and figure.

Along with the chastity belt, Judy had laid down a dress code for her husband. One of her several corsets laced to at least twenty-two inches, or less, was required just to close the waistbands of nearly every item in her closet. Karen was forbidden pants of any type for any reason; even doing yard work. Shorts were permissible, but their legs could be no longer than the tips of her thumbs.

Even at her height and wearing heels, Karen was more that passable; her soft, alto voice was never questioned. When others reacted to her in public, she was confident that it was because of her attractive appearance and not because she was being read.

Even though she had reduced her purchases to the absolute necessities, selecting the generic brands and not splurging on anything, the checkout total still lightened her wallet of nearly one hundred and ten dollars. Only eighty-three dollars and change remained inside when she tucked it back into her purse and pushed the cart back to her car. Karen was less confident than earlier that day that she had enough money to make it through to payday without tapping into the eighteen hundred dollars in her checking account.

Though she was accustomed to a nice steak with all the trimmings, even a shared bottle of wine with Judy on Saturday nights, baked macaroni casserole and a small green salad satisfied her hunger. Plain mayonnaise substituted for her preferred blue cheese dessing.

'Some celebration of my new life,' she thought as she placed then rinsed the dirty dishes. To conserve detergent, Karen was going to wait until she had to, before actually washing everything clean. Afterall, the bottle had cost a dollar, eight-nine.

After rearranging the computer station to avoid direct sunlight in her eyes or on the screen, Karen assembled her computer while listening to her favorite radio station. This occupied much of the rest of that first evening in her new home.

She'd established her own goal of no more than an eighteen inch waist by the end of her one year test, mornings were the only times that she allowed herself to be out of her corset. It was not a requirement that her wife had made part of her test, but something the redhead wanted for herself. Karen missed her aerobics and workouts at the gym. Once Judy had mandated the chastity belt, she saw no practical way to wear one of her leotards over it and her tights. The contours of the steel and two locking mechanisms were just too prominent and too embarrassing for her to try to explain away under the tight Lycra® or Spandex® garments.

Being just a bit of a romantic, Karen smoothed the pink tights up her long, shapely legs, straightened their seams then stepped into the black leotard; it was the standard 'uniform' of a ballerina attending 'class'. She much preferred heels to flats and now laced on a pair of black dance boots with sturdy heels, three inches high. On the bare hardwood, the dancer's taps delighted her as she skipped to the stereo set to insert her favorite dancercise CD. She would then exercise and dance until the disk ended. Copious perspiration at its conclusion told her that it had been a good workout.

As it had been every morning since she'd started corseting and more so, since the chastity belt had been locked on, Karen relished her long hot showers. With visions of the electric meter spinning at high speed, she forced herself to cut it shorter than she really desired. Clean from head to toes, it always took time to dry thoroughly, especially under the steel covering over her groin, but her shorter hairdo now took less. Two hours after getting out of bed, Karen was ready.

With a nice breakfast of one egg, cooked over easy, toasted English muffin with butter and jam accompanied with a glass of orange juice underway, Karen went into the front yard to retrieve the Sunday paper. It wasn't there! Of course not! Karen was the 'new girl' in town and hadn't made arrangements to subscribe. She eyed the plastic bagged bundle in Judy's yard longingly then returned to the house. What was a Sunday morning without the Sunday newspaper?

While enjoying her breakfast, Karen thought about her expenses - perhaps she should toast bread in future and not spend money on the more expensive muffins.

The morning passed rearranging her things in the dresser and closet to her preferences then she did the same in the bathroom and the kitchen. Another shopping list started to grow.

Though thrilled with the start of her new life, Karen grew increasingly bored as the day wore on - no Sunday paper, no TV, no email, no Internet, things she loved were missing. She decided to take a drive in her new car, just to assure herself that she'd not get lost, even though it was less than ten miles, on her way to work the following morning. She also was sure to time how long the drive took than added several minutes; expecting that the morning traffic was going to heavier than that late on a Sunday afternoon.

Up at five the next morning, she was simply too excited and nervous to do her morning exercises. This allowed her plenty of time for a shower and to lace her pink corset tightly with the assistance of a stout hook she'd installed in the wall next to the mirrored closet door. A white bra, satin full slip and sheer stockings (pantyhose were out of the question since she started wearing stainless steel panties) completed the undies she chosen for the day. Karen took extra care with applying her make-up, not wishing to overdo it. Cognizant of the fluorescent lighting that is standard office illumination, she carefully painted her face.

Despite thinking on it the entire weekend, Karen did not make her final decision until it was time to dress. A long sleeved, white cotton blouse and her black linen-look suit seemed the most appropriate, she thought. Polished black pumps, matching shoulder bag and black necktie appeared to be the best choices. Simple hoop earrings, silver watch and one sterling ring finished her preparations.

Still not accustomed to driving a manual transmission while wearing five-inch heels, she drove carefully to the office and arrived with seven minutes to spare. Karen's show of her long legs was not lost on the three men who had just left their van as she'd gotten out. Men were not her preference, but interacting with them as an attractive female was something she'd have to deal with the rest of her life.

"Good morning," a trim dark-haired man greeted as they approached.

"Hi," she said with a smile. "Nice day."

"Sure is. You looking for Carter?" he asked, referring to the company's name.

"Not really. I know where it is. Thanks." Karen started toward the entrance. Naturally her heels and long practice forced her to walk with small steps and at a slower pace. The men reached the door first, but the one who'd spoken stood aside. With a smile, he watched Karen mount the few steps then opened the door for her to pass through.

"You're early for an appointment. Most of the bosses don't get in for another twenty or thirty minutes," he informed.

"Thanks, but I work here. This is my first day."

"Great!" His smile broadened. "I'm Chuck Stahler. I'm in IT. Any problems with the system, call me - extension 4711."

"Karen Summers," she introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you, Karen."

Even in the elevator, Chuck continued. "You from around here?"

"North Jersey," Karen answered. Men were not in her plans for the future, but she was going to have to cope with them and rudeness was not the acceptable way to do it. "A little town nobody seems to have ever heard of - Montville." Indeed, Karen had grown up there and her family had moved away when she was fourteen.

Chuck stood aside to let her out when the doors opened on the third floor.

"Have a good day. I'll try to catch you later, Karen." The other two men wished her luck on her new job too after he'd said it.

She found Carla Bertramm standing in her cubicle, sorting files in the cabinet. Karen's new supervisor, Carla, was a thirty-six year old brunette whom Karen had found to be all business during her interview.

"Good morning, Mrs Bertramm."

"Hi, Karen. Welcome aboard," her nice smile eased a bit of Karen's nervousness. "I'll be with you in a moment." When finished with what she'd been doing, Carla turned to give her new clerk a good look.

"I like your new hairdo - cute. Come with me and I'll show you to your station and introduce you to a few of the others." Adjacent to the partitions were others to form six cubicles in all and behind these the room was open. A total of thirty computer stations were there - five rows of six abreast. Women occupied almost all with just two men. All were busy typing into their machines.

"Here we are," Carla stopped in the middle of the first row. "This will be your station." Karen moved next to it.

"Christine," she addressed the woman to the right. Though older that Karen, Christine was heavily made-up, but it was exquisitely applied. "Christine, this is Karen Summers. Karen just started with the company this morning." They exchanged greetings.

"I'd like you to show her the job and help where you can, Christine."

"Certainly - my pleasure, Mrs Bertramm," the black haired woman said. Seeing that Karen was staring at her face, Christine smiled and winked her long eyelashes.

"I've got a meeting in five minutes, otherwise I'd spend more time, Karen. God knows we could all accomplish so much more if they just let us do our jobs instead of tying us up in meetings all day. Any problems that Christine can't handle, try to see me later. I'll leave you in good hands. Best of luck and welcome to Carter Mutual." Having said this, Carla went back to her desk then out the door.

"Sit, down. Get comfy Karen," she motioned her elegantly manicured hand toward the empty chair. "You can put your bag in the drawer; they frown on it if we leave ours out." Christine rolled her chair over closer once Karen had sat.

"Before we start, I'll answer the question everyone wants to ask and most are too polite to." Karen wondered what question that was. "I was born without any hair on my body - none - not even eyelashes." She held out her left hand to display her long red talons. "My real nails never developed normally either. Trust me, if you saw me without my paint, you'd think I'm pretty ugly.

"As a young girl, I learned how to do makeup and even studied for my beautician's license. Not having any of my own, I just couldn't stand running my figures through a full head of hair on one of my customers." She started to laugh. "I graduated, but never took the test," Christine giggled. "I think I'd have ended up shaving all of them bald." Karen giggled too as the image formed.

"I doubt they'd appreciate that much," she said.

"Me too." Christine stretched out her hand to turn on the monitor before Karen's keyboard.

"These are just terminals hooked to the mainframe in the basement. We have just the programs that we need for the job and nothing more, but email. If personnel didn't warn you when you were hired, they monitor our email. You can access your personal stuff, but just warn your boyfriend and keep it to a minimum."

"They did tell me. Thanks for the reminder, Chris," Karen said.

"Christine, please?" she asked without inflection.

"Sorry, I'll remember Christine."

The job was to enter the mostly handwritten data submitted by policyholders and agents on claim forms along with any additional information, such as receipts, provided to help substantiate the claim. Of course, accuracy was very important and Christine emphasized that it took precedence over speed. In principle it was a simple job, but the nearly illegible handwriting of many claimants made it much more difficult.

"How you doing, Karen?" Christine asked around nine.

"Not too bad. I think I've got the hang of it now."

"It's break time. Save what you have on the terminal, Karen, and I'll show you around." Christine had already stood up from her chair.

Quite pleased with her first day on her new job, Karen was nonetheless happy it was over. She stopped at Burger King® on the way home to pick up a cheeseburger and onion rings as cooking was not on her list of relaxing things to do that day. In all, it had been a very satisfactory and exciting day.

Changing out of her suit, she carefully hung it and changed into a comfortable turtleneck and loose, black skirt. She was not comfortable with the marks around the edges of her belt. That day had been the longest she'd sat in one place and she controlled her desires to spread her legs or squirm about on the chair to try and find a more soothing position - without success.

It was not so much that she was chaffed between her thighs, but there was a redness and soreness around the back strap where it widened to surround her rectum so that she could more easily use the toilet without making much of a mess. This design feature of the belt had been bothersome ever since Judy had first fitted the steel about her and today had been the worst. One thing was for sure; Karen was well aware that her wife was one hundred percent serious about never unlocking it until her operation. By morning, the irritation had dissipated.

Tuesday started out hectic and quickly became more so.

"Karen, come over here, please?" Carla called as soon as Karen entered the office. "There's been an accident. Christine's in the hospital."

"Oh, is she badly hurt, Mrs Bertramm?" she inquired.

"I'm not really sure, but I don't have the time to check up. I've got to leave right away to attend to some crisis at the Atlanta office. I'll be gone a few days, at least.

"I know that you've had very little training, but I'm counting on you to do your best." Carla sounded less than confident as she stuffed files in her attaché case.

"Whom should I go to if I need help?" Karen asked.

"I'm taking half the team with me. Just do your best." Carla glanced at her watch and scooped up her purse after closing the case.

"I really have to go. My manager is Bill Mathis, extension 4286, but try not to be a bother." Finished with what she had to say, Carla hurriedly left to catch her ride to the airport before the stunned girl could ask more.

All went well for the first few hours. Karen entered the information from the claims just as she had done the day before until her system froze and a dialog box appeared on her screen, 'Access Denied'. This was just as she tried to save a particularly long claim which had been very difficult to decipher. Not knowing what else to do, Karen went to a woman at the end of the row behind her.

"It means that your not cleared to access that portion of the system. I'm Margaret Zucker," the woman said after Karen had explained.

"What should I do?" she asked, feeling helpless.

"You should go to your supervisor. There's nothing that I can do." Karen knew that she was dismissed. She turned back to her station after she was just waved away as Margaret resumed entering data into her terminal.

Before bothering her manager, she remembered the man that had spoken with her the pervious morning and dialed the extension he'd given her.

"Hello, Mr Stalher, this is Karen Summers. You don't remember me, we just met yesterday."

"Sure I remember you, Red. What took you so long to call me?" She ignored his obvious come on and went on to explain her problem.

"Let me check." There was a pause of several seconds while Chuck searched her information file. "You don't have any clearance entered for you, Kar'."

"What's that mean?" she asked. "I'd no trouble yesterday."

"It means that your supervisor never submitted your clearance requests and the system just got around to bouncing you."

"But..., I've been doing my job since yesterday..." Karen restated.

"Just remind your supervisor," Chuck interrupted.

"How about lunch today?" Karen had already said 'thank you' and hung up before she heard him ask.

Screwing up her courage, she left her station to find her manager.

"Excuse me, Mr Mathis?" Karen had knocked on the open doorway, but not entered his office after finding it.

"Yes?" he smiled. It was obvious that he liked what he saw as his eyes scanned the attractive redhead in the dark green suit.

Though extremely nervous, Karen managed to introduce herself then explained the problem. "Here," Bill extended a green paper he'd scribbled on, towards her. "Take this up to IT and tell them to enter you, Karen.

"Any other problems while Carla is away, you be sure to see me. Come see me even if you don't have any problems." His come-on was reinforced by a huge grin and his eyes were not on Karen's face as he said that.

Not wishing to show her ignorance Karen had not asked him where IT was - she'd been nervous as it was. She asked a man at the first occupied desk near the elevators.

"They have the whole tenth floor." His eyes roamed up her legs and stopped on he breasts as he answered.

Gail, in the Systems Access section of IT was very friendly and most helpful in dealing with Karen's problem immediately.

"All taken care of, Karen," she smiled.

"Thank you, Gail."

"You are so uptight. Why?" Gail asked.

"Well, I've kinda been abandoned. It's only my second day here, my boss went to a branch office and the woman who's supposed to train me is in the hospital."

"I was in the same boat, when I transferred into this job," Gail said. "Just try your best. They can't fault you for that."

Still feeling unsettled by the attention that she was drawing from the men on top of her problems, Karen returned to her station and resumed her work.

Near noon, she looked up the see Bill Mathis grinning down at her. "I'm going out to lunch. I'd like to you to join me so we can become better acquainted, Karen?"

Karen preferred to be alone, if her only other choice was being out with a male. Still, she realized that to reject her boss's boss on only her second day was not politically wise. Biting her lip, she saved the data that had been entered, retrieved her purse and stood.

"I'll freshen up and meet you by the elevators. Thank you."

They walked from the building to a nice cafe several blocks away. Bill only made small talk, but this did little to ease the growing apprehension which Karen was experiencing. She calmed only a little once they were seated across from each other in a booth.

"I'd like you to try to relax, Karen," he began. "I'm happily married." He said in an attempt to reassure the girl and, to emphasize this, Bill twisted the gold wedding band that he wore. "I've a daughter who is at least your age." Karen could believe that, her manager certainly looked old enough.

He kept the conversation light and soon had Karen smiling at some of his jokes. It was over coffee and tea that he turned serious.

"The problem in our Atlanta office is far bigger than was first believed." Throughout their lunch, Bill had held her attention. "Carla and the others will probably be away for several weeks and we're looking to see who else might be able to help out." Karen thought that she knew where he was heading. The fact that her chastity belt was never going to get past airport security was bad enough by itself. When combined with all of her ID papers and credit cards still being in her legal name and stating her current gender, she could not see a way of avoiding her secret becoming common knowledge.

"Did, I say something wrong, Karen? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I ... I ca ... can't. I can't fly to Atlanta or anywhere, Sir," she managed to stammer." He moved to place his hand atop of her trembling one in an effort to calm her. Karen jerked it to her lap, as if it had been touched by a hot iron. Bill stared for a few seconds.

"No. I understand. I wasn't going to ask you to." Karen stared at him with disbelief.

"You weren't?"

"You've only been here two days - not even two full days. Not that you wouldn't do an admirable job, but that was not where I was going."

"You weren't?" she repeated.

"We're going to be extremely shorthanded in the department for some time. I know that you'll do your very best, Karen," he smiled reassuringly.

"Yes, sir. I'll try my best,"

It was stressful, but her next few days flew by. At the end of Friday Karen wanted just to go home. That was not to be.

"Hi. Shut down a move your butt, girl."

"Huh?" Karen looked up from her screen to see Gail, Chuck and another girl.

"We're going to the Pub." Gail continued.

"A..., no thanks," Karen declined while shutting down her monitor.

"This is Angie. She just started today," Chuck wrapped his arm around the petite Oriental.

"Angie, this is Karen. She started Monday."

"Nice to meet you Karen."

Gail rolled Karen away from the keyboard, retrieved her purse and thrust it toward the tall redhead.

"I really need to go home." Karen's protests were over ruled. Well, more like the three of them talked her out of it.

There were a few whistles from the jam packed room as the girls entered the crowded bar which was in walking distance from their office. All the guys turned to check out the redhead, blond and black haired trio of new arrivals. Having been wearing her five inch heels continuously for a week, Karen managed them better than she had on Monday. Her feet didn't really hurt, which was good. They'd never get a bar stool let alone a table.

"Karen, whatcha drinking," Chuck asked.

"Bud," she said, "draft." Chuck asking the other girls calmed her worries about money - obviously he was buying the first round. Karen felt safer with her two other co-workers at her side then had she been if alone with him. Nothing bad was going to happen during happy hour, she told herself.

"Hi, Red," a guy close to her clicked his mug to Karen's as soon as it was delivered. Thinking on it all week, because of the way guys at the office had been looking at her, Karen was resigned that she was going to be hit on by guys, sooner or later. She already had counted ten times that week.

"Hi. Karen." She even managed a small smile.

"John Drenbers," he returned. "I've seen you around. Just start at Carter?"

"Monday," she answered.

"What do you do?" John asked.

"Claims clerk." He said 'ah' as if it explained everything, which it didn't.

"Been there five years. I'm one of MTU's."

"What's an MTU?" Karen sipped.

"Maintenance Technical Unit." he chuckled. "I'm one of the computer hardware specialists. We kid about just being parts of the machine. We're caged in the basement." Seeing his brown eyes twinkle about the smile, Karen knew he was kidding.

"Right, I've heard you are pretty dangerous," Karen teased. "I'm surprised they let you out at night."

"Pays well. Unless something's broke, we have lots of free time to do our own thing."

"And what's yours?"

"Admiring very pretty redheads," he smiled back.

"Want to blow this place and have dinner? I know this great steak house up river." Maybe she shouldn't have, but the thought of a free steak dinner was too much to turn down. A girl needs meat too and she was tired of pasta or rice.

Five minutes later, Karen was following his BMW on the other side of town. John had offered to drive, but she wanted her car near in case she couldn't stand it any longer. It was Karen's safety out.

"You weren't kidding they pay you well," she said to herself as she stepped from her car when a valet opened the door in front of The Chalet. Karen had never been there before, but it was reputed that after dinner for two you did not get out without being a hundred and fifty or more dollars poorer.

She took John's arm when he offered to escort her inside. Karen could not help but notice the two girls costumed like doorman at a seventeenth century palace on each side of the carved doors. Their heavy makeup, huge white wigs only contributed more to look with the red bodices displaying ample cleavage and short full skirts. Karen did not miss any details.

"Bon soir, Madam et Monsieur," the hostess greeted. She was pretty too, in a silver taffeta gown of the period. "Deux pour la dejeurner?"

"Two for dinner," John said. "Smoking." Karen guessed he did not speak French.

While Karen enjoyed a glass of wine, she never understood the ceremony and fluff so many make over the many selections. Though there was a cork screw in her new kitchen, most of her favorites came with screw tops. John selected a seventy-five dollar bottle and asked her opinion of his choice.

"Would I seem too gauche, if I asked for a glass of sherry instead, John?" she asked. Her question seemed to startle him.

"No, not at all." John had selected to impress his date with his mostly Internet gathered knowledge and not that he actually preferred his selection. In fact, he was relieved not to pay the asked price, but didn't let on to that.

Sipping her glass slowly, more just toughing the rim to her red lips, Karen read the extensive menu. She concluded that their prices were not high, they were obscene! Thirty-seven dollars for Poularde Pochee A L'estaragon which translates to chicken casserole poached with white wine and tarragon was the cheapest thing listed.

"Have you decided?" John asked when she closed her menu. It was entirely written in French and John did not have clue one what he was reading.

"Yes, a one pound porterhouse with Bernaise sauce, fries and asparagus."

"Where'd you see that?" he blurted out, frantically scanning his menu for something that at least sounded familiar.

"I didn't," she giggled. "At least not all together as one offering." She explained with translations of the different listings.

"You can read French, Karen?" he stared, wide eyed with amazement.

"Oui, je peau la parle," Karen smiled back. She was amused by his reaction to her limited ability.

"How do you like it cooked?" John was prepared to order for the two of them.

"Rare, still moving," Karen giggled.

"Me too," he chimed right in. "I like you, Karen." How was she to respond to that, she wondered. She also wondered if she was really crazy going on a date with a guy, her first in her life!

A small smile seemed best when she just nodded with a sip from the glass.

"Bonsoir, mademoiselle. Nous desireons..." Karen did not even give him a chance to place the order. When the young girl, uniformed like a French Maid, their waitress, curtseyed, greeted them and asked if they were ready to order. She changed their selection and placed the entire order along with a bottle of Alsation wine. John had raised his brow recognizing that as a special offering from a wine club he'd recently joined.

"She's cute," Karen offered, seeing John's eyes following the waitress from the table.

"Very...," he caught himself about to comment on how attractive he found the blonde. A gentleman does not do that with a lady. He was so impressed with Karen that he had stopped thinking of her below his belt and had started to use his brain to evaluate his date.

"What are you thinking, John?" she asked after a couple of minutes, knowing that he was closely examining her.

"You are different from any girl I've ever met before, Karen," he said after a pause.

"Perhaps," was her enigmatic response. 'If you really knew in what way, you'd not be sitting there admiring me,' she thought.

What are your hobbies?" Karen asked. The waitress delivered their appetizers before he answered.

"What are these?" staring at the plate. Karen said escargots. "That snails, right?" Karen placed the morsel on her fork in his mouth. She knew where he was heading.

"Yes, that right." John looked horrified, knowing what they were, but his look changed. He tasted the item and the excellent garlic butter which was served with it. By the time he swallowed, there was an ear to ear grin on his face.

"How do I say that was good, Kar'?"

"C'est bonnes! It is good," was her reply. She tasted one for herself. Mais non! Ce n'est pas bonne! C'est magnifique!'

"Let me guess? It's magnificent?"

"You got it," They giggled and started to feed each other.

"I was very tempted to order la anguille fume, but I was afraid you'd barf if you found out."

"Let me guess. Fume sounds like fumes. Ah, smoked?"

"Bon," she answered. "La is the."

"Anguille," John said it several times, pronouncing it differently.

"Naw, you would dare?" he said with a questioning smile.

"I might. Got it figured?"

"Maybe. Eel?"

"Give the man in a sports coat a cigar," she said with a smile.

"I'm full, I'll ask for a doggie bag for my portion." Karen sat back and her corset reminded her that was a no-no after the main course.

"Thanks, Karen," John smiled.

"For?"

"Ordering the chateaubriand the way we both like it, un-cooked!" They laughed.

"I've also had enough to drink, go ahead, but I need to drive home," Karen stated.

"We both need to drive home. Perhaps you like coffee at my place?" How best to deal with his invitation. They had talked together, well, mostly giggled and laughed. If Karen had been asked to go to a man's apartment last week, she'd have kneed him where it would do the most good. Sex now was not her concern, not even the possibility of him discovering her secret - so well designed and made was the chastity belt Judy had selected.

"Your place is fine, but I'll pass on the coffee. YUK! I hate it. Tea will do nicely though..

"John, I've got to make a confession," Karen stated as they entered his nice home.

"Don't fret your pretty red head, Kar'. No sex."

"How...?" Karen gasped as he chuckled.

"Unless you want it. I'm not one that expects to be paid. Your company tonight was quite enough, Karen, and I'm not rushing things."

Knowing that at least one of her many secrets would be out if she accepted the invitation of John's open arms, Karen moved to enter their embrace anyway. She couldn't remember the last time Judy or anyone else had embraced her with a hug.

Pulling her close, he smiled then bent to envelop her lips with his. The sensations that coursed through Karen's body over rode the thoughts she was having. How could she be kissing a man... and enjoying it? Men were never a factor in Karen's equation, but the results were undeniable.

"Your wearing a corset," he said as his fingers ran down her back.

"What's this?" Karen felt him tug at the intersection of the belt's hip band and back strap.

"Guess." Her smile was coy. Karen made no attempt to stop his digital exploration.

"My God! You're wearing a chastity belt!" he exclaimed when they found the locking mechanism which held the front shield secure.

"Yes." Kissing John again, Karen slipped from his arms.

"If you'll excuse me for a sec', I'd like to powder my nose."

 

To be Continued? No promises!

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Karen Anne Summerfield. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.