I go back to my linen closet and pull out some blankets, dropping them on the couch. I walk to my room and push the door closed, not noticing it stays...open a crack, and glance at myself in the mirror. My eyeliner is smudged, and my hair is in a messy bun. I pull off my knit sweatshirt, throwing it in a corner where other dirty clothes lay in a pile. I slide off my bra and unbutton my jeans, stepping out of them and flinging them into the corner. I look at myself again, frowning softly as I. Steve picked up how stiff I was and tried to get me to loosen up, he tried to persuade me it was tradition to do a quad run after losing three straight games of pool, there were other tricks and jokes, but one time was impossible to forget.There was a fetish ball at the Union, I volunteered in the RAG society and had ended up at the ball, I was phased at the stuff that people were wearing, I couldn't believe the stuff seriously existed, let alone that people, people my age, would show it. More

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