Yvonne checked in with me in my office just after I got in.  She gave me a hug, but I couldn’t return it.

“My arms are still too sore from yesterday,” I explained.  “I had to sleep on my stomach.”

“What happened?”

“After she shrunk me, she tied my wrists behind me with dental floss.  Then she stuck me in her mouth and sucked on me for six hours.”

Yvonne screwed up her face in disgust.  “Ew,” she offered.

“She didn’t have any bits of food in there, at least,” I said.  “Just me.”

“But, she didn’t eat you, obviously, right?”

“No, that’s right, she didn’t eat me and then magically restore me after being digested.”

“It’s a fair question!” she protested.

“I’m not mocking you, honest,” I said.  “She did tenderize me quite a bit with her back teeth.”

“Sounds terrifying.  Do you think she was feeding off your fear like she did before with your. . . arousal?”

“No, she wanted me aroused this time, too.”

“So she made you think of naked girls again?”

“No, she wrapped her giant tongue around my cock and balls until I was on the verge of cumming, then stopped until I was soft again, then did it again.  Lather, repeat—no rinse.”

Her eyes went wide.  “For how long?”

“The whole time.  Six hours.”

Yvonne’s jaw dropped.  I hoped it was in amazement and not in anticipation.  Eventually she dared to ask another question.

“But, at the end, you came in her mouth, right?”

“No,” I replied flatly.  “My hands were tied until she grew me back.”  I held up my wrists to display the welts.

Yvonne pursed her lips and looked away.

“She said it was for the SJ hearing in Simone today,” I said.

Yvonne shook her head and turned back to me.  “I’d hate to see what she does when she goes to trial,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna wait to find out.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, alarmed.

“They have to be stopped.  Olivia, the partners, all of them.”

“How?”

“I realized it last night:  what is the only thing the partners are afraid of?”

Yvonne shook her head.

“Their clients,” I said.

The blood drained from Yvonne’s face.

“There’s gotta be a reason why no one is allowed on the top floor during the monthly board meeting,” I continued.  “Maybe I can learn something that I can use against them.”

“They’ll kill you,” she said.  “Or worse.”

“Not if they can’t see me.”

Yvonne blinked and sat back, overwhelmed.

“You’re crazy,” she said finally.

“No, just desperate.  The next board meeting is Friday night.  I’ll probably have recovered enough by then, provided Olivia doesn’t decide to use me as an insole in the next four days.”

Yvonne turned away from me, then stood up as she dug a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose.  My instinct was to stand up and go to her, but the moment was lost as my complaining joints slowed my reflexes.

“I’ll be alright,” I called to her, convincing no one.  She turned back to me with wet eyes and a polite smile.

“Think this one through, Tyler,” she said, then she returned to her office.

Of course, I had already thought it through.  I had had plenty of time to think it through as Olivia tortured me with her tongue.  The way I saw it, I had nothing to lose.

* * *

It’s a bit of a cliché, but there’s a reason they say that a death sentence liberates the mind.  Once I had told Yvonne of my decision, I felt as if a great weight had been lifted.  I stopped worrying about everything else.

I even dared to eat my lunch in the lunchroom.  Janie tried to get a rise out of me by chomping and popping her gum rather loudly, but I just smiled at her until she got uncomfortable, and I returned to my sandwich.

After I got home that night I went to my favorite Italian restaurant and had the veal, something I usually reserve for my birthday.  Afterward, I went for an hour-long walk through a nearby park.  When I got home, I had the best night’s sleep in weeks.

Wednesday morning started off with a fun encounter with Zorah and Janie by the coffee machine.

“Hey, Skoal-boy,” said Zorah, “didja hear that Olivia won her SJ motion?  Looks like you’ll be doing all her hearing prep from now on.”  Janie snickered.

“Well,” I replied, “I must have been so helpful that the judge didn’t even notice that you failed to proof the Table of Authorities.  Three of the citations pointed to the wrong cases.”  I hadn’t even read the brief, but from Zorah’s face I could tell I had correctly guessed she had been too lazy to proof it.

“I’m sure Olivia will cut you some slack,” I concluded, taking my coffee and leaving.  Janie flashed me a wicked smile.

Later, I had to go to Central Processing to get some supplies.  I thought I was alone as I picked a couple of binders out of a cabinet.

“I really admire you, you know.”

I turned around to see Kira, the document clerk who had been magically compelled to recite the alphabet whenever someone mentioned it.  She was a couple of inches shorter than me, with long flaming red hair and a plump round butt.

“When they first hexed me,” she said, “it messed me up for months.  I ate crap food, I cried all the time, I lost my boyfriend.  For a long time I thought about jumping off a bridge.”

This was already the longest conversation I had ever had with Kira.  I started to ask, Why didn’t you jump off a bridge, but I decided it would sound tactless.

“What did you do?” I asked finally.

“Oh, I have a shrin—I mean, a therapist now.  I knew she’d never believe what happens here, so I made up a story about childhood sexual abuse and she prescribed anti-depressants.  I don’t think about suicide nearly as often now.”

“That’s good,” I said with my most reassuring smile.

“Yeah, well, anyway it’s nowhere near as bad as what they’re putting you through.  No amount of Xanax would help if they did that to me.  You’re my hero.”  Looking into her eyes, I could see that her grief at my plight was genuine.

“Uh, thanks, I’ll try to deserve that,” I said.  “So, it gets better, then?”

Kira gave me a bitter smile and pulled up one of her sleeves to show me the ranks of tiny scars on her forearm, many of which were very recent.

“No, it really doesn’t,” she said.

* * *

I spent most of Wednesday afternoon slacking off in Yvonne’s office.  She was in a much better mood than the day before, although she still didn’t want to talk about Friday night’s board meeting.  Instead I encouraged her to talk about her upcoming trip to see Shelly, an old friend from high school.

At some point over the years, Yvonne had confided to me that she and Shelly had had a couple of drunk make-out sessions, and this aspect of their relationship hadn’t completely disappeared even after they both married other people.  Shelly had even told Yvonne that Shelly’s husband (unhelpfully also named Tyler) had confessed to having a crush on Yvonne, and now Shelly wouldn’t stop talking about a possible threesome.  Yvonne was pretty sure that she wasn’t up for it, but even though she imagined that Shelly was only half-serious, she felt uncomfortable telling her old friend to shut up.  Given that Yvonne would not be taking her own husband on the trip to see Shelly, she anticipated an awkward confrontation.

I was no help.  Yvonne and Shelly hadn’t done very much together, but I had made Yvonne go into as much detail as possible.  I was sympathetic to her conflicted feelings, but I also relished the hints at her half-formed desires.

“Don’t do anything this trip that you’re uncomfortable with,” I said patronizingly, “but the next time Shelly comes to town, gimme a call.”

Yvonne’s face, which up until that point had been friendly and confiding, suddenly became frustrated.  She looked away, then took a deep breath and turned back to me, her jaw set in defiance.

“I love Shelly,” she said, “and there’s no way I’d turn you loose on her without first making sure for myself that you can hack it.”

“Anywhere, anytime,” came my near-reflexive reply.

A cold smile came over her face.  “Right here.  Tomorrow, 6:30 am.  We’ll have the floor to ourselves.”

Time seemed to slow down.  I heard my blood rushing in my ears.  I had no doubt she was serious.  After all these years, she had finally called my bluff.  My mouth went dry and I couldn’t speak.

“You know what they say about talking the talk, Tyler,” she said.  “I think it’s time for you to show me what you’ve got.  What do you think?”

I nodded hurriedly.

“I need to hear you say it, Tyler,” she said.

I finally found my voice.  “I’ll be here,” I croaked.

“Good,” she said, returning to her computer.  “Drink lots of water, and be sure to wash your hands right after you get in tomorrow.”