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Mary gets to meet Sandy

Part 1

I


„Oh, hi. You must be here for the room? I’m Mary.”


“Uh-huh.” First impression: very rude. Sandy pushed through the door and straight past Mary. Dragging her mud-caked sneakers over the carpet, tossing her jacket into the corner, she entered Mary’s apartment and her life.


“You must be Sandy?” Mary continued, determined to hold on to civility. She liked keeping her place tidy. She picked up the jacket, got a hanger, and looked at the other girl’s ample frame, the sweaty t-shirt, torn jeans, gorgeous round ass cheeks. Wait, what was she thinking? “Um, so nice to meet you.”


Sandy snapped her gum in response and started opening doors.


“Please let me show you around.” Mary tried to catch up. “This would be your room, I guess, if I, ah, if you do rent the room, I mean. You see there’s a bed and cupboard; if you have any furniture of your own ¬–“


But Sandy had already turned around and pushed Mary out of the way again. “The bathroom’s over there – ah, and that’s my room. Um, sure, feel free to look around.”


Following Sandy’s muddy footsteps, Mary walked into her own room. Sandy had thrown herself on the bed feet first, and was leafing through the Austen she had found on Mary’s bedside table.


“And then there’s the kitchen, large and sunny, with a dining table…” Mary’s voice trailed off as she watched Sandy tear a page out of the novel, wrap her gum inside, and toss the package on the floor.


Mary could hardly believe her eyes. She suddenly noticed she was trembling.


“Aren’t you going to pick it up?” That was the first time Sandy had spoken. She was grinning at Mary, mischievous small green eyes sparkling, nostrils flaring. Her shortish blond hair was oily. She’s so beautiful, Mary caught herself thinking, inexplicably. Did Sandy really expect her to clean up her gum?


“Um, sure.” Mary mumbled and picked up the soggy thing.


“Good!” Sandy crowed, wiping her shoes against Mary’s pillow. “I see we’re going to have fun! I’ve been looking for someone like you for weeks.”


Mary suddenly realised that she had to get Sandy to leave right now, if there was going to be any hope for her. She was looking from Sandy’s large round breasts to the dirt on the sheets and back, feeling like a very small rabbit falling in love with a snake. This was ridiculous. Sandy was acting outrageously. Mary could not accept that behaviour from any guest – certainly, this couldn’t be a suitable roommate!


“Um, so do you like the room – ah, I mean this room? The other room? Sorry.” Mary blushed.


Sandy giggled briefly. It was the first time Mary heard that sound. “Yeah, the rooms are ok, I guess.”


“Look –” Mary started again. This was madness; she desperately had to get back to normality. She knew that this was her last chance. What she said next counted. She watched Sandy get a new wad of gum out of her pocket. Those green eyes were watching her back, closely. Very slowly, Sandy pressed her heels against the pillow and slipped out of her sneakers. First one, then the other, tumbling down on the floor. Mary gulped. She felt hot. Sandy’s grin grew broader. She popped in the gum and started chewing again, loudly, her mouth wide open.


The doorbell rang. At first, Mary could not imagine why. Then she realised. “Oh,” she said, and once again: “Sorry.” She went back to the door.


“Hello, I’m Robin.” The girl outside smiled. “Are you Mary? It is so nice to meet you.”


“Hello, Robin.” Mary’s voice sounded unfamiliar. The girl outside seemed really sweet.


“We e-mailed? I really liked the sound of your ad, it sounded so friendly. And I do like cooking together!”


There was a splintering sound from inside.


“Um, sorry, getting ahead of myself.” Robin smiled again. “May I come in?”


Mary thought: she would have been nice.


“Hey, Mary?” Sandy shouted from inside. “I broke your vase. You need to come in here and clean it up!”


And that was that. “I’m sorry,” Mary said, quietly. Something stung in her eyes. “The room is taken.” She closed the door on Robin.


“Hurry up!” Sandy shouted.


Mary went back to her old bedroom, got down on her knees, and started cleaning after Sandy.





II


Mary couldn’t get Jane’s face out of her mind.


“Can’t you go any faster?” Sandy called out.


Mary didn’t think she could, but she tried. She was dragging Sandy’s third and final pair of suitcases up the stairs. The third floor would have been no problem with the elevator; but Sandy wanted her to walk.


Of course, Mary walked. Sandy giggled.


Breathing heavily, Mary pulled the large brown suitcase through the door and into the bedroom. The green one was waiting outside. She looked around. Huge piles of dirty laundry covered the floor, the bed, and poured out of the cupboard. Mary had just chucked her own clothes into a mid-sized brown paper box for the time being, to make the space for her new roommate’s stuff, but clearly it wasn’t going to be enough. She took a deep breath – the whole room reeked of old unwashed socks – and opened the next suitcase, only to find yet another bunch of crumpled shirts, stained jeans, and filthy underwear. Sandy didn’t seem to own a single clean piece of clothing. Mary had her work cut out for her.


She smelled Sandy’s pineapple-gum breath before she felt it on her neck. The other girl was standing right behind her; shivers run down Mary’s back. “You really need to catch up on the laundry,” Sandy said. “In the end, Jane just couldn’t keep up. She really ought to apologise to you.”


Jane had apologised a lot, in fact, with that hollow, weak voice of hers. Sandy’s previous roommate had had the suitcases ready when Mary arrived and insisted on helping her get them to the rental car, even though she had clearly been too exhausted to be any real help.


“That’s okay,” Mary said quietly, as she started sorting the new pile.


Sandy moved past her, shuffling through the heaps with her dirty sneakers. She kicked the paper box as she passed it, toppled a heap of green and blue shirts from the bed onto the floor, and heavily plunked down on the mattress to watch Mary work.


“Um, about Jane?” Mary began.


“Yeah?” Sandy’s grin was back. “You liked her, right?”


“I guess. Sandy, may I ask how old Jane is?”


Sandy snapped her gum loudly. “Why, she’s 22. Aren’t you about that age?”


“Exactly 22, yes.” Mary thought of Jane’s tired, grey face, her straggly, pepper-and-salt hair, her frail frame and veiny hands. She looked at Sandy’s knowing grin. Mary shook her head to clear her mind. She didn’t want to finish her thought, but Sandy wasn’t going to let it go yet.


“You look a lot like her, actually.” And she snapped her gum again.


Mary knew that wasn’t true. Yes, she and Jane were about the same height, about 5 foot 3, slim, lightly built, dark-haired. But Jane had looked at least 40 when she had opened the door for Mary. The idea was unreal, fantastic in a frightening way. Mary looked at Sandy and felt that heat rising again in her body.


“Right?” Sandy insisted. “The two of you are a lot alike.”


“You’re only 19 yourself, right, Sandy?”


“Uh-huh, that’s me. Straight out of school, starting out in life.” She sounded amused. “I really still need looking after, you know. Lucky me, I found you. And Jane, too.”


Mary thought of another question, but it scared her. Instead, she asked, “Why did you move out from Jane’s, anyway?”


Sandy shrugged. “Thought I could have more fun somewhere else. Say, is the Xbox set up?”


“Yes, it’s all ready to play.” Mary had intended the other bedroom to be her roommate’s, but instead they had turned it into Sandy’s playroom. The younger girl had brought no less than three game consoles with her, and they had taken the TV from the kitchen and set it up on a little table, so that Sandy could sit on the bed comfortably and play.


“Cool!” Sandy bounced off the crumpled bed sheets and pushed past Mary without another word. She slammed the other room’s door behind her.


Mary kept sorting laundry, turning that other question around and around in her mind. When she had cleaned out this suitcase, she went into the hall and got the last one.

Sandy must have heard her.


“Hey, Mary?” she hollered through the closed door. Music and gunfire in the background. “The green one is all toys. You can leave that for now, it all goes in here.”


“Ok, ok!” Mary called back. How many more toys could Sandy have? She went back to the bedroom, took another deep breath of the rancid air, and filled a new washing basket with jeans and blue shirts. She carried it down to the machine in the cellar. Sandy wasn’t watching, but it felt right to take the stairs rather than the elevator anyway.

Soon she was back up with a bunch of Sandy’s underwear, all fresh from the dryer. She looked at her shaking hands as she folded the panties and bras and put them in the bottom drawer. It was hard to admit to herself how much she wanted to kiss every piece. But she had resisted. It seemed like a small kind of victory: She hadn’t gone that far, at least. Even though she had lost control of her life to an unreal, fantastic change in every other way.


She finished the underwear and went to the kitchen, which was a complete mess. This was Mary’s fault: Sandy had wanted lasagna, but Mary took too long to prepare it, and Sandy hadn’t been in the mood anymore when it was finally ready. Mary looked at the broken baking dish and the greasy remains of the lasagna on the floor. The bottom of Sandy’s sneakers had left clear imprints in the clumps of tomato sauce, minced meat and pasta. In a box on the table, there were the edges of the pizza Sandy had eventually ordered.


Mary looked over her shoulder to the playroom. The door was closed; Sandy had turned up the volume further. She wouldn’t see nor hear what Mary did. Shaking a bit, Mary got down on the floor. She tried telling herself that she was doing this just because she was hungry, as she hadn’t had a chance to eat anything herself before leaving for Jane’s place. Shame flushing her face, she looked at the trod-in shoe print in the lasagna for a moment before she bent down and started eating.


She hadn’t expected the intense mixture of disgust and delight that shook her body. This was all so fantastic, and clearly wrong, but right now, eating Sandy’s mess from the floor, it felt right, a relief from a life that hadn’t made sense.


“Hey, that’s mine!”


Mary froze. Her head burned as she turned to see Sandy standing in the doorframe. Sandy giggled again. “You should really ask before you take something that isn’t yours.”


“Oh, I – I was really just…” Mary began.


“This is all dirty anyway.” Sandy said, walked past Mary, and stomped her sneakers into the discarded food again, forcefully. Mary looked up and noticed that Sandy was looking a bit flustered herself. Her cheeks were even rosier than before. But the younger girl was confident in what she was doing. “Are you sure you want to eat this?” she asked, with a huge grin.


“Um, I.” Mary’s voice faltered. The shame choked her. She looked up at Sandy and simply nodded, slowly.


“This?” Sandy repeated. She lifted one sneaker to Mary’s face. Trembling, Mary nodded again. She began licking the food from Sandy’s sole. Jane’s hollow face flashed before her eyes, and there was that other question again.


“You should say please.” Sandy demanded.


Mary looked up at her. “Please, Sandy.”


“Please what?” Sandy had a hand between her legs now, which somehow seemed completely natural to Mary.


“Please may I have some of your lasagna?”


To Mary’s surprise, Sandy put her foot back on the floor, just out of Mary’s reach. She considered crawling after it.


“Let me think about it.” Sandy continued. Her green eyes were staring at Mary again, another test. “Are you sure you want it?”


Mary gulped. “Yes. Yes, please.”


“What do you want?”


“I want to eat some of your lasagna, please.”


“From here?” She lifted her foot ever so slightly.


“Yes.” And since that didn’t seem to satisfy Sandy, Mary continued: “Yes, please, let me eat some more of your lasagna from your shoe.” Her voice stumbled as she said it, her mouth drying up as she heard her own words.


Sandy snapped her gum. “You must be really hungry, huh?”


“Yes, Sandy. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”


Sandy’s foot had begun playing with the food, squashing little pieces here and there, grinding it against the linoleum floor.


“No, I don’t think so.”


“No?”


“No, you can’t have my lasagna. Don’t sound so surprised. It’s mine, isn’t it? You’ll get over it. Besides, losing a bit of weight will do you good.”


Mary looked up at Sandy’s broad shape, her ample behind, the little belly bulge in her t-shirt, those breasts. She asked her question after all.


“Sandy? How long had you been living with Jane?”


“Oh, I don’t know. I think she lasted about half a year?”


Mary nodded. “I see.”


She got a flannel and started cleaning up the mess. Six months, she thought. One hundred and eighty days; half a day is gone already. One hundred and seventy-nine and a half left.


Sandy wiped her shoes against Mary’s blouse as she went back to her game.

  




III


“Will you hurry up with that down there? My bedroom is a real mess, I can’t get a good night’s sleep like that.”


“Yes Sandy, I’m almost done.” Sandy was sitting at the kitchen table, and Mary was on her knees wiping up a puddle of coke from the floor. After several hours of cleaning and washing for Sandy, she was almost resigned to her new situation. Just enough, anyway, to have begun worrying about practical matters. Space. Money. Food. How did Sandy expect they would live? Had the girl thought about such things at all? Mary feared she already knew the answer to that.


But she was only half right.


“The laundry is taking ages. You still have to move all of the other dirty clothes out of my room, you know.”


“Yes Sandy. I –” Mary hesitated. It had become hard for her to speak up. “I suppose we can put some of it back in the suitcases and store it in the kitchen and the bathroom?”


Sandy shrugged. “Whatever. Just make sure you put new sheets on my bed, the old ones are filthy.”


“Of course.” Mary nodded. “Um, Sandy?”


“What?”


“I was wondering, where do you want me – um, I mean, am I sleeping in the playroom?” Mary wasn’t sure why asking this made her so nervous. “I guess?”


“Huh? No, that’s stupid, I need that room for my games. Don’t be dumb.”


“Oh.” Still on all fours, Mary looked down at the floor. “Well, I guess I can take a blanket to the kitchen…”


“Bullshit. Kitchen’s off limits, I might want a midnight snack. Now stay right there!” Sandy dumped both her feet on Mary’s arched back, hard. “That’s good, stay like that.”


Mary was caught in an awkward position, as she had just stretched to wipe under the table. Her arms were at odds with her shoulders, but she couldn’t move now: Sandy was comfortable. Mary felt the muscles on her back tie themselves to knots under the other girl’s soles.


“So… perhaps I can sleep in the bathtub?”


Sandy giggled again. Mary dreaded and adored that sound. “Perhaps, if you really have to sleep. But there’s so much more laundry to be done. I thought you’d need the night if you want to be finished by tomorrow.”


“Oh.” Suddenly Mary felt very selfish. The little voice in the back of her mind that called her insane was being drowned out by the blood roaring in her ears.


“But if you don’t care about keeping my stuff clean, I guess you can lounge out in the bath. Oops, I knocked over my glass again!”


From her position near the floor, head half raised, Mary saw a new torrent of coke and ice cubes splash down, but just outside her reach.


“Are you just going to leave it like that?” Sandy demanded.


“Um, no, sorry…” Mary mumbled. She took up her cloth in her fist and tried to stretch.


“God, you’re so stupid. You’re never going to reach it like that.”  


A smaller puddle must have formed on the table near the edge; it was dripping down into Mary’s neck.


“Um, you’re right. Sorry.” Mary began to relax her back very slowly, letting Sandy’s feet down gently.


“Hey, what are you doing? I said I liked it like that!”


Mary froze. “I’m sorry.” she said again. “I just wanted to wipe up the drink…”


“Yeah, you really should.”


Mary craned her neck and looked up at Sandy. She didn’t know what to do. But Sandy had already lost interest.


“Sushi.” she said.


“I’m sorry?”


“I want sushi tonight. Go order me some, ok?”


“Well… ok.” Mary gazed up desperately, unsure which of three ways to go. “Um, but, Sandy, I’m sorry to say that, but that’s expensive. Frankly, I could hardly afford the pizza earlier.” She tried to smile apologetically, winningly. “You know I’m working my way through college? Right?” Silence. “I said so in my ad?”


Sandy sighed, deeply, a great mind put upon by lesser troubles.


“So you’re telling me you don’t have any cash left at all?”


“Oh, well, no. I do have some. Only I need it for groceries, and also, the rent is due in a week’s time, and I guess, I mean, I don’t know, but, I suppose –”


“What?” Sandy pushed down on her heels, digging her sneakers deeper into Mary’s back.


“Well, I was planning on splitting the rent when I looked for a roommate.”


Sandy didn’t respond to that. Her sneakers were moving to and fro in very small circles, crumpling Mary’s blouse and pinching her skin.


“And I – well, I don’t know, do you work?” Mary eventually blurted out.


“Nah. Can’t find a job that will suit me.” Sandy blew a bubble, then wrapped one end of her gum around a finger and started playing with it. She looked down at Mary. “My parents support me quite well, and I get money from here and there, you know.”


“Oh?” Mary’s back was in pain, but she felt relief. “So you will pay your half of the rent?”


“What, your rent? Brrrffft.” Sandy turned her gaze to the ceiling. “I guess I could help you out, I have the money… But I usually spend it on games and stuff. You know, fun.”


“I see.” Mary gave a dry gulp. Her left shoulder was twitching.


“I know!” Sandy exclaimed, kicking Mary away, who toppled over and fell hard against the kitchen floor. “I’ll leave it to you.”


“What?”


“I’ll let you decide. Do you want me to spend my money on your rent, or on my fun?” She was grinning again. Her eyes were fixating Mary: The older girl had learned that this was Sandy’s way of testing the waters. It was one of those moments that decided how their lives would go.


“Well…” Mary was scared by what was about to happen, what she was about to do to herself. But there was no way out. The decision was clear; it had always been clear from the start. “I do want you to have fun, Sandy.” she admitted, meekly.


Sandy got up and came over to Mary. Her right sneaker, almost casually, happened to come to rest on the fingers of Mary’s right hand. Sandy pressed down lightly, playfully.


“Are you sure? You want me to have fun?”


Mary felt tears welling up. But there was the familiar heat again, and she had known how this would go all along, after all. Only she still hadn’t understood all of what Sandy was after.


“Go on, tell me. This is me, asking you what you want.” Sandy’s foot pushed straight down, painfully.


“I –” Mary began, and choked hard. “I really do want you to have fun, Sandy. I do.”


“Well, if that’s what you really want…”


“Yes, Sandy.” Mary let out a little shout as Sandy turned her foot and twisted Mary’s fingers.


“Well, you know what I really like to do for fun?”


“What is it, Sandy?”


“I’m a real princess, see, but sometimes I forget how much I mean to people. Silly, I suppose. Anyway, I like it when they show me. That really is fun.”


“What would you like me to do, Princess?” There was nothing strange or amusing about that title to Mary at that moment. As she watched her tormented hand draw a deep red hue, it was deadly serious. But this wasn’t even about her hand.


“I really enjoy it when people worship me. My body, I mean. You know? Lick my feet? Kiss my ass when I go to bed, until I fall asleep?”


Mary forgot all about the pain then. “You want me to kiss your body?”


“I’ll let you kiss my body. That would be fun, right?”


“Yes!” Mary cried. She surprised herself. Her heart was pounding, and further down she was on fire.


“Oh good.” Sandy took a step away, allowing Mary to pull her hand back and nurse it against her breast. “So, how about this. You make sure I have lots of fun as you kiss my ass and feet, and in return, you pay all of the rent and our food and stuff. Fair?”


Mary stared at Sandy. The fire was raging on, and yet her head suddenly felt ice cold. But she couldn’t help but blurt out another loud: “Yes!”


“So you’ll get another job, right?”


“Well… I guess so.”


“Shouldn’t be that hard if you don’t insist on getting all of your oh-so-precious sleep every fucking night, right?”


Mary’s voice was very small. “Yes, Sandy.”


“So go get me my sushi. You can save some money by skipping dinner yourself. Ok?” Sandy demanded.


Mary nodded, desperately. Her stomach rumbled. “Yes, ok.”


“Good.” Sandy plonked back down on her chair. “So hurry up, order the sushi, get the laundry and wipe the floor. My feet are waiting for your tongue, and I have something else to discuss while you’re down there.”


Mary rushed around, trying at once to get to Sandy’s feet as fast as she could, and to push her growing despair out of her mind with the help of her chores. So now she knew how things would be… and had even less of an idea how she would manage. But she would get to kiss Sandy’s feet. The thought filled her with a strange mixture of apprehension and dread, arousal, desire, humiliation, despair, and not least a reminiscence of the taste of squashed lasagna that prompted a new pang of pure hunger.


“That took fucking ages.” Sandy complained. “Come here.” She pointed down at her feet. Sandy was sitting on the bed in her playroom, remote control in hand. For a second,

Mary felt as if she was reacting to the push of a button as she got down on the floor. She had looked up at Sandy like this several times during that day; but it was the first time she was literally kneeling for Sandy.


The younger girl grinned and stretched out her hand. “Gimme your head.”


Mary leaned in closer. Sandy pulled her gum out of her mouth, stretching it long and thin. For a moment, she let it dangle in the air so that Mary could see it. Then she reached forward again and rubbed it into Mary’s hair, pulling it this way and that in knots and clumps.


“There. That’s how we start having fun.” And she giggled again. “That’s fun, right?”


“Yes, Sandy.” Mary’s voice sounded shrill in her own ears. She was in free fall, unsure which way she was going and what was up or down.


“You can take off my shoes now.”


Mary wondered idly how Sandy managed to keep her sneakers dirty all the time. Right now, there were big chunks of a chocolate cake there that Mary hadn’t even noticed Sandy eating, as well as smaller bits of gum, remainders of lasagna, and a base film of grime and mud. Mary reached for Sandy’s shoes as a jeweller might touch the most fragile and precious Fabergé egg.


Sandy kicked her hands away, hard. “Oops”, she laughed, “Try again.”


As Mary reached for Sandy’s feet again, all of the confusing, scary and fantastical bits and pieces of this day suddenly, and perhaps only temporarily, clicked into place for her. She was on her knees, reaching for Sandy’s feet in order to show Sandy that Sandy was a Princess and make sure Sandy had fun, so that she could get another job and pay Sandy’s rent, so that Sandy could use more of her money for Sandy’s fun, and she was doing all of this for Sandy because Sandy had been rude and demanding and pretty much promised to use Mary all up, just as she had done with Jane. And now Sandy was making all of that as hard for Mary as she could, kicking her and pulling away her feet over and over, so Mary had to try harder to get that life for herself.


And all of this made perfect sense. Mary saw that she loved it, and seeing that, she died a little inside. She saw in Sandy’s eyes that Sandy understood exactly what had happened at that moment. In response, Sandy’s grin grew crueller than before. She kicked Mary right in the face.


Mary swallowed; there was something bitter in her mouth. Sandy pressed a button, and the TV came on and started blaring a tacky pop song, real loud. Mary briefly worried about the neighbours, but Sandy’s feet were more important.


Finally, Sandy allowed Mary to catch her left foot. As Mary held it and began to untie the laces, Sandy put her other foot squarely on Mary’s breasts, and started pushing her away, first lightly, then stronger and stronger.


It cost Mary all of her remaining energy to stay put. Sandy was in the superior position, as Mary was struggling to keep her balance on her knees. And of course, Sandy was rested and well fed. Somehow, Mary managed to keep her hands on Sandy’s left sneaker. She untied it, and slipped it off.


Freed from the sneaker, Sandy’s foot immediately rose up and kicked her square in the face again, harder this time.


“Fuck you; fuck you very mu-u-uch,” Mary heard the TV behind her sing.


Sandy seemed to be mostly watching the TV now. Absentmindedly, she reached for another piece of gum from her pocket and kicked a bit more in Mary’s general direction, but

Mary got hold of her foot again soon enough.


Sandy’s little sock was rainbow-coloured, sweaty, and had traces of mud as well. Gingerly, caressingly, Mary pulled it off. She looked up at Sandy, unsure what to do next; but Sandy seemed to be miles away.


So Mary took all her courage together and started kissing Sandy’s naked foot. Sandy didn’t look at her, but her grin grew wide. Mary was so happy to see that. Quickly and with much less resistance this time, she got off the other shoe and sock as well.


She couldn’t figure out what Sandy’s feet tasted like as she kept licking and kissing toes, arches, and soles. It was probably slightly salty, but it filled Mary’s mouth and nose with disgust and delight, the heavy weight of suitcases, the pull of the chewing gum in her hair, the hungry gurgle in her stomach, and a deep feeling of despair about her future.


She never wanted it to stop.


“See!” Sandy shouted over the music. She was looking straight at her, and almost gingerly touched Mary’s cheek with her toe. “You know what that is?”


Mary nodded. “Yes, Sandy. It is fun.”


“Yes!” Sandy crowed, triumphant. “This is what fun is!” And she showed Mary her toe with Mary’s tears glistening on it. She hadn’t even noticed she way crying.


“You know what I want when I have fun?” Sandy demanded.


Mary could guess, but she shook her head.


“More fun!” Sandy laughed, and kicked her in the breast, harder. Suddenly Mary realised that Sandy was looking at her intently again, and Sandy’s hand was firmly between her legs, rubbing furiously.


“Tell me what you’re here for!” Sandy shouted. (“Fuck you!” sang the TV.)


“I am here for your fun, Princess Sandy.” Mary answered on cue. With some trouble, she caught Sandy’s foot just as it was kicking her between the eyes, and started kissing it again.


“And when I’m asleep, you get to lick my sneakers clean too, you know that, right?”


Mary nodded. She did know that. And kept kissing.


“This is stomper!” Sandy laughed. “And this is grinder! One hurts you, and the other wears you down. Right down. Right to the ground. Isn’t that true, Mary?”


“Yes, Sandy. It’s true.”


Holding Sandy’s foot with one hand, she slowly moved her other hand between her own legs. But Sandy would have none of it; she stomped that hand with her other foot, real hard. Mary cried out.


“No!” Sandy shouted, and inched a bit closer to the edge of the bed so Mary could look straight at her crotch, where Sandy was pleasuring herself. “Not for you. If you want to be fucked so bad, I’ll fuck your mouth.”


And she pushed her toe deeper into Mary’s mouth, roughly; followed by her other toes. She pushed her foot in and out. Mary choked and gurgled. She felt almost as if she was going to faint; Sandy’s other foot was on the side of her neck now, making choking movements.


Mary thought she was about to lose consciousness for good, when Sandy suddenly switched off the music and pulled back both feet. Mary looked up at her, puzzled.


“Didn’t you hear that, you stupid bitch?”


“No – sorry, Sandy. What was it?”


“The doorbell! Dinner’s here!”


“Oh!”


Without a second thought, Mary jumped up and rushed to the door, grabbing her purse from the dresser in the hall. She opened the door.


The young man with a plastic tray of sushi in his hands began to smile, then looked at her with shock.


“Oh my god, are you alright?”


“What? Oh, I see – yeah, I have gum in my hair.” Mary looked at him sheepishly. But she was too excited to even care that much about being seen like this. “It’s a long story. Don’t worry about it.”


“Ah – but that’s not what I meant. You have a bruise all over your right eye. Are you ok?”


“What?” Mary stopped short. She stepped back and looked at herself in the hallway mirror. She noticed a neon blue wad of gum stuck to the frame. But the boy was right: She was developing a classic black eye.


“Oh, I see what you mean.” Mary tried to regain a façade. “It’s ok, really.”


“Look,” the man said, in a smaller voice now, and glancing behind her into the apartment. “Do you need help? I can call –“


“Oh no, I don’t need help, no. But thank you so much for asking!”


“Are you sure?”


“Yes, really, I’m sure. Just a cleaning accident earlier today. It isn’t half as bad as it looks; I had completely forgotten it was there at all.”


The man looked at her for a moment, unsure how to proceed.


“Well, if you say so…”


“Really. I’m sure.”


“Alright then.” He gave her an uncertain smile. “Just making sure, you know.”


“Yes.” Mary said, and took a deep breath. “I know. It’s very sweet of you, but I’m ok. You’re a good guy. What do I owe you?”


“Ok… so, it’s $57 for the deluxe platter. Wow. I don’t think I’ve delivered that one before.”


“Well, you know,” Mary said, trying to smile as she emptied her purse. “Only the best for… ah, something or other, you know.”


“Yeah. Thanks. And douzo meshiagare.”


“Uhm, that too. Thanks; good-bye.”


To compose herself, Mary took a second, but she didn’t get more than that.


“Hey! Come in here! I’m waiting!”


“Yes! Yes, Princess Sandy.” Mary looked at the beautiful sushi on the tray longingly. Her stomach was about to kill her.


Carefully, she carried the sushi in for Sandy. No more fun for the moment; Sandy needed a drink, two plates, more ice in her drink, a small table by the bed, and for Mary to serve all of this without getting in the way of her watching the screen. Eventually, Mary settled back down on the floor kneeling before Sandy, who was happily munching away, eating sushi with her fingers.


“So,” she said as she was chewing, spraying small bits of rice over the bed and the floor, “about that other thing I wanted to talk about.”


Poor Mary had almost forgotten. She had thought that being kicked by Sandy for worshipping Sandy for Sandy’s fun so she could work more for Sandy and pay Sandy’s rent so

Sandy could buy more games because Sandy was so wonderfully demanding was the whole of the deal. But she was wrong.


“You’ve seen the state Jane is in.” Sandy said and dropped a maki in the soya bowl, splashing sauce and wasabi around.


“Oh. Yes.” Mary’s voice sounded sad; her fear got the better of her excitement for a moment. 


“I really think she needs a break, don’t you?”


“Well… yes, definitely.”


“I knew you’d agree.”


“Only – I thought she was getting a break now anyway?”


There was Sandy’s grin again. “Because I moved out? Yeah, sure.” She kicked Mary’s shoulder playfully. “But she’s still working two jobs – or was it three? Anyway, she gets me about $ 800 a month, not a lot, but it’s something, you know?”


“Oh.” Mary went pale. Suddenly, she was beginning to feel the bruises in her face and across her body.


“Yeah, it’s really nice of her.” And Sandy giggled. “But I think she needs to have a bit of a rest.”


Mary told herself she wasn’t sure where this was going. But the truth was, she knew very well.


“So since you like her so much, I think you should cover her payments for now.”


Mary looked at Sandy.


“Ok?” Sandy demanded. “Good then.” And she switched the music back on.


“But, Sandy –“


“What? I can’t hear you.” Sandy shrugged. (“You say that I’m messing with your heeeeaaaaad….”, the TV began.)


“Sandy, please!” Mary begged as loud as she could. “That’s twice my rent, and I don’t even know how I’ll pay that.


Sandy chewed another maki. (“I can't stop,”, sang the TV, “cause I'm having too much fun…”)


“Sandy, please, Princess Sandy!” Mary pleaded, desperately.


“Oh, don’t be such a whiny bitch.” Sandy eventually said, between bites. She looked down at her sobbing roommate. “Look, you don’t have to come up with all the money yourself. Ask other people. That’s what Jane did.”


“Oh. You mean…?”


“Sure. Jane’s dear old mum has taken up cleaning. That’s another $200 right there – less for you to come up with! Unless you want to give the old lady a break as well, of course. I hear she’s in bad health lately.”


“So… I guess I could ask… someone…”


“Yeah. You’ll figure it out. Don’t you have parents?”


“I do. Only they’re not really rich themselves. And I did want to pay my own way through college…”


“So what? You will pay your own way. This is about me, remember? So make some phone calls tomorrow morning. Ok, that’s enough of that; I’m no longer hungry, and the topic bores me.”


Sandy flipped the rest of the sushi over and on to the floor, turned the volume up even more and made Mary beg for half an hour to have her feet back in her face.






IV



Sandy had moved in on Sunday. Monday morning, Mary started keeping secrets. They multiplied fast, and she got better at lying even faster. She was almost proud of it.


Mary told her mother her budget wasn’t working out after all. Mum was incredibly sweet about it. She wouldn’t hear Mary apologize or put herself down. Paying your way through college was hard these days, much harder than it had been in her time, she said. Dad and she were happy to help out as much as they could. Yes, of course they believed Mary when she said she would be able to pay them back soon, but she really didn’t have to. She had made it so far on her own hard work and her scholarship alone. They were so proud of her! They hadn’t booked a holiday yet this year, so they had some money to spare. They’d just go next year. Really, it was fine.


Sandy made true on her promise and had Mary kiss her ass every night as she went to sleep. Mary would crawl up to Sandy’s bed in Mary’s old room. She had put the nice satin sheets on, the ones she had got for special – and rare – date nights. Sandy slept naked, and would move her ass close to the edge of the mattress, blanket loose and half off her body, so Mary could strain and reach Sandy’s large, round ass cheeks with her trembling lips. Sandy’s ass filled her view, in the evenings, and in her mind’s eye again and again throughout each day.


Mary told her landlord she hadn’t been able to find a suitable roommate yet. She explained she didn’t want to have anyone there who might treat the property badly. She was surprised to find how easily he agreed. Mr Booker trusted Mary; she was one of his best and most reliable tenants, he told her, and he knew how hard she worked. He would accept the rent later in the month. He knew she was good for it.


Slipping off into dreamland, Sandy would murmur Sandy Things, half conscious.


Kiss. “You’re so lucky to have me.”


Kiss. “Be grateful for my asshole.”


Kiss. “You really need to look after me. I know you will.”


Mary didn’t tell her boss she was no longer taking work home, but to the library. Mary was really good at languages; she had been putting herself through college translating contracts from German and Dutch. Others double-checked her work, but they hardly ever found any mistakes. She was practically doing the job of a paralegal, even though she hadn’t reached law school yet. It used to make things easier that she could work at home. But when she found Sandy going through her briefcase Monday night while Mary was scrubbing pasta off the walls, she knew this wouldn’t work. Sandy was grinning, reading out phrases in foreign languages that sounded silly to her, and crumpling up pages here and there. So Mary had to keep her files out of her home and spend more time at the library, working through her contracts there. This gave Sandy more time to prepare surprises for her at home.


Kiss. “Your face is real nice and blue by now.”


Kiss. “I know you love my farts.”


Kiss. “You looked so sad when I…” and her voice slipped off into sleep, giggling softly.


Mary didn’t tell her grandmother she had asked her parents for help. Granny believed her when she said she didn’t want to disappoint them. Granny was stern and admonished Mary to take better care of her finances. It took almost an hour of meek agreement and self-chastising, but eventually Granny agreed to let Mary cash in early on some of the funds Grandpa had put away for her before he died.


Sandy’s sleepy fingers reached for the satin sheet and started tearing little holes into the fabric.


Kiss. “You’re so funny when you’re hungry.”


Kiss. “It took three months to get this far with Jane. So much easier with you.”


Kiss. “You’d make a good pony…”


Mary told her classmates she was struggling with allergies. She didn’t let them see the text messages that really had her rushing out of class at all times, racing home and then back again to college or work: Sandy had woken up at half past eleven and wanted breakfast in bed. Sandy had dropped a whole flask of perfume on the floor. Sandy wanted some crisps from the kitchen. Sandy’s feet wanted more fun.


Kiss. “It was cool twisting your nipples. I think I’ll want more of that soon.”


Kiss. “Give it all up. All for my ass. It’s worth it, right?”


Kiss. “I know you agree.”


Mary didn’t tell the people at the diner that this was her second job when they hired her; they had a strict policy against it with college students, having had bad experiences with overworked and overextended servers before. Mary signed papers that said this was her only job, and she wouldn’t work more than 20 hours every week outside of school. Mary sighed when she saw that. 20 hours sounded like heaven.


Kiss. “We should go on a trip this summer.”


Kiss. “Camping. I know you’ll keep me comfortable when we’re roughing it.”


Kiss. “You can carry me as well as our backpacks…”


Mary lied to everyone in the world by making her face up every morning, hiding the bruises and the tired lines, recreating the old Mary. She got very good with that fast, or so she thought. Perhaps people were just being polite. Nobody really wanted trouble if it could be helped. Either way, it probably didn’t matter as long as it worked. She didn’t clean the gum from the mirror as she did everywhere else. It felt right that the sticky neon-coloured wads took up more and more room there, crowding in on her fake face in the middle. As she looked in the mirror, they reminded her of the face she was hiding underneath: Who she really was.


Kiss. “It was so cute when you came home and saw the flooded bathroom.”


Kiss. “All of that dirty water dripping out into the hall…”


Kiss. “That took care of your evening right there, didn’t it?”


And Sandy giggled again.


And of course, Mary had to keep secrets from Sandy, as well. Or perhaps Sandy was just playing along. Mary was getting very little sleep indeed, but Sandy probably must have known that she couldn’t function without any sleep at all, right? The bathtub was always filled with a bunch of Sandy’s dirty clothes; Sandy got them messy real fast and went through lots of laundry. It was comfortable enough for Mary to crawl into there when she slipped away from her chores for a few hours every night.


And surely Sandy understood, on some level, that Mary needed food? It had been an education for Mary. She hadn’t known what real hunger was before she met Sandy. She had so flippantly said, ‘I’m hungry!’ so often before. No, she hadn’t been hungry. What a thought: She had lived 22 years without ever knowing hunger. That had been an appetite. Hunger was this. But now and again she did grab a bite here or there: A guest would leave some food on a plate at the diner, another student left half a chocolate bar on her desk, and once, Mary convinced herself that the canteen food was so cheap anyway, it hardly mattered. Right?


Mary felt guilty, and kissed Sandy’s ass more furiously. Sandy grunted happily.


Mary’s most precious secret lasted a week. Sarah had phoned her Sunday night as she did every week, and Mary immediately knew she had to keep her out of this. She told her she was busy and put the phone down fast. Sandy was on her PS4, shouting at the massacre on screen. She couldn’t have noticed.


When Mary didn’t get round to answering her emails on Monday, Sarah started sending text messages. The first one arrived that evening, as Mary was picking up shards of glass from the kitchen floor. She quickly typed a response and switched off the sound after that. She told Sandy it was nothing.


After Mary had gone to their parents to ask for money, Sarah grew even more concerned. Mary had to take time out of a class Tuesday afternoon to talk to her over the phone and put her mind at rest.


No, she was doing alright. Yes, she knew Sarah was always there for her. No, she didn’t need Sarah’s help, really, it was fine. That was a very generous offer, but she couldn’t take Sarah’s money, seriously, please, it was all going to be fine. There was no need to worry about Mary, and anyway, Sarah had Sue to look after now. The toddler needed her mother more than Mary did. After all, Mary was all grown up now, wasn’t she? Yes, she knew she’d always be Sarah’s little sis. No, she hadn’t seen the pics from Sue’s first birthday party yet, do send them along! Yes, Mary loved Sarah too. Give her love to Robert as well. When was his deployment over? Right. It would be great to see them all in August. Just eight more weeks! Goodbye.


Sandy started taking pictures at home. Mary scrubbing the floor for her. Mary on her knees, hungrily staring at the tray of Thai food she was serving. Mary’s bruised face against the carpet, kissing Sandy’s foot. Mary crying when she took her favourite dress from the paper box under the kitchen table and saw it was covered in chocolate. Mary emptying out her purse and handing the last remaining bills to Sandy. A full-length shot in the mirror of Sandy riding Mary on all fours, turning to wave at the imagined audience.


That grin again. Mary loved that photo, the one with Sandy in it in full and on her bending back. She looked at it every night on her phone before she went to sleep.


Mary had her first real breakdown Friday morning. Getting up from her desk after class, she suddenly swooned, classroom went red and then black, floor coming up to meet her, out. Talking to the nurse took ages. Mary knew she needed to get back to her phone as fast as possible and didn’t want to answer lots of questions. No, it had never happened before. She was sure it was because of these awful allergies. She was on medication for that. She couldn’t remember the name right now, but the doctor had said the pills might make her dizzy. Yes, she would talk to him. Yes, right away. In fact, she would leave right now – no, really, she could get up, it was just a short episode. Yes, she could stand. Thank you so much.


There were twenty-seven text messages from Sandy, and eleven phone calls, each angrier than the one before. One of the calls had been answered by a nurse, who told Mary’s roommate that Mary wasn’t well. This made Sandy even more furious. Mary wasn’t allowed to get sick, Sandy had written. Mary didn’t get a time out whenever she liked. Mary had to make sure that Mary functioned the way Sandy needed her. Mary needed to be a well-oiled machine. What had Mary been thinking?


Now Sandy’s phone was switched off. Mary raced home. She called her boss from the subway station – she had collapsed; the nurse had written up something she could send; sure, she’d be back at work next week.


Mary wanted to take the stairs, but found her legs wouldn’t hold. She had to ride the elevator up instead. More shame. She reached her apartment door, and took a deep breath.


It was about as bad as she had imagined, but no worse, at least. Food from several delivery services spread out across the floor and all walls. The mirror in the hallway broken into a hundred pieces. The kitchen table toppled over, one leg hanging off at an angle. The last of her clothes sticking out of the toilet. All of Sandy’s clothes pulled out of both cupboards, strewn across the floor, stomped on and covered in ground-in mud, grease, fat, and was that dog shit?


And then Sandy came out of nowhere, smashed into Mary and pulled her to the ground.


She kicked her so hard Mary’s ribs creaked. “I’m sorry!” And again. “I’m so sorry!” Mary was frightened to the bone. She had never imagined the younger girl could be like this. Sandy hardly seemed fully conscious of what she was doing.


“Ow!”


“I’m so sorry!”


“Please!”


“Ow!”


“It’ll never happen again!”


At some point, all storms subside. Sandy went to play. Mary’s sore body got back to her chores. The battlefield seemed endless, but she started with the first piece of glass on the floor and just kept going, kept going.


Sushi that night. Sandy turned it into a kind of re-enactment of their first foot worship session, incredibly mere five nights before. Stomper. Grinder. This is what fun is!

She didn’t mention the breakdown again.


Mary got Sandy’s bedroom cleaned up first, so Sandy could go to sleep. There were lots more chores waiting for Mary, but for now, everything seemed familiar and alright. Mary had bought new sheets yesterday, and Sandy seemed to like the precious silk she had chosen.


Mary crawled up to the bedside like she always did. Sandy’s ass loomed over her.


Kiss. “Man, what a day.”


Kiss. “I want that new Arkham game.”


Kiss. “Sarah seems very nice.”


Mary froze.


Sandy kicked her. “Hey, keep kissing!”


Mary was about to throw up. All the blood rushed out of her head. She swallowed, hard.


Kiss. “I saw the pictures from the little one’s birthday party on your phone last night.”


Kiss. “So very cute.”


Kiss. “You never told me you had a sister!”


Mary cried, a loud, painful wail.


Kiss. “So when I couldn’t get hold of you earlier, I called her. We went for coffee.”


Kiss. “She couldn’t believe all those pictures I showed her!”


Kiss. “She really cares for you, you know.”


Kiss. “And she seems to be a very giving person. Perhaps that runs in the family?”


Kiss. “Anyway, she agreed you probably needed her to help out with your chores and stuff. She’s really worried about your health.”


Kiss. “I explained all the things you have on your plate. She understood.”


Kiss. “No, really. I think she kind of liked the idea of our little flatshare.”


Kiss. “Yeah, she liked it alright.” Sandy’s famous giggle.


Kiss. “Well, she is your sister after all. You even look alike when you get sad. She was so quick to offer to do her part.”


Kiss. “Eager, even. I think she’ll love it.”


Kiss. “Sue might have to stay with your parents for a while, but that’s fine. They’re looking forward to it.”


Kiss. “Did you know Sarah is divorcing Robert?”


Kiss. “Man, finding that out from an email abroad must have sucked.”


Mary sobbed uncontrollably, and kept kissing.



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