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Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Any and all similarities to persons, living or dead, is/are purely coincidental. No relationship to any person, living or dead, is intended by these fictional depictions. The author treats this as a work of fantasy, and does not encourage any such activity in real life other than consensual activities between adults of legal age. Copyright remains with the author. My thanks to the unknown creator of the program ‘Virtual Master’ for the idea that inspired this story.
VIRTUAL MASTER
Prologue
Steffi groaned aloud with passion, and ground herself down even further on the erect cock of J. Harris Faverington III, a distinguished looking, silver-haired gentleman of some 58 years.
Steffi Williams was a good 30 years younger than Mr. Faverington. Her long chestnut hair was unbound, and her pale skin flushed with the exertion of her sexual exercises. She was the very picture of erotic perfection, and, more to the point, she knew it.
But Ms. Williams was no high-class escort. No indeed. Ms. Williams was an Ivy-league educated attorney with the prestigious firm of Duncan and Waters, and she was used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted.
At the firm, she was known as a hard-charger, a woman who always knew that the job came first. One look at her gym-toned body, draped in the finest Italian business suits cut just above the knee, and her colleagues, male and female, knew that here was a true Alpha female. With the best education, fluent in three languages, and with money in the bank to spare, Steffi was destined for the very top.
Under her clothes, she wore the finest silks and satins. Nothing but silk stockings touched her legs, which were waxed weekly at La Bellisima Salon.
At
28, Ms. Williams was happy with her life.
She would prefer it if her boyfriend, the investment banker Campbell
Mitchell, would hurry up and pop the question.
Too many of her friends were able to run about showing off their
large-carat diamond rings. She toyed
idly at times with the idea of denying her sexual favors to Campbell, but knew
that it was for the best if she allied herself with the powerful Mitchell
family.
Still, to an outside observer, Steffi Williams would seem lucky. She lived alone in a beautiful two-bedroom condo on the 28th floor of a downtown skyscraper. She had money to spare, and most of all, she had good looks. Her stomach was flatter than an 18-year-olds, and her 36C breasts were still firm and pointed.
Steffi increased the pace of her fucking, pushing off the firm mattress and rubbing her clitoris against Faverington’s pubic bone. He was going red in the face from the effort, and she knew that within moments he was going to shoot. She stole a glance at herself in the mirror behind his bed, and stifled a giggle at the sight. If she continued like this, Mr. Faverington would be sure to continue working with Duncan and Waters. CEO of a Fortune 500 Company, Mr. Faverington controlled assets greater than $300 million. If Duncan and Waters could land this contract, through her efforts, then she would be guaranteed a partner slot, not to mention a very fat bonus at the end of the year.
When she saw that Mr. Faverington was attracted to her at an initial client meeting, Steffi barely hesitated to let him ‘seduce’ her. What was one evening of clinically faked passion in return for such professional advantages? Besides, Steffi considered herself to be highly sexual, and enjoyed a fling now and then.
In fact, she could feel an orgasm building inside of her now, and she increased her pace in an effort to cum at the same time as her client. Within moments, she felt Mr. Faverington swell inside of her. With a shout, he ejaculated deep inside of her. She let herself go, and orgasmed strongly, the walls of her vagina pulsating against Faverington’s dick as she collapsed in a sweaty heap across his chest.
As
she drifted off to sleep, Steffi smiled at the last
words Mr. Faverington had murmured in her ear … “If
that is an example of
Chapter One
One Week Later
Steffi Williams arrived home from work at
From: VM@gmale.com
Subject: You should read this tonight, Steffi
My Dear Steffi,
It has been a few years since law school, hasn’t it? Yet I hope you still remember some of the rules regarding professional conduct of the legal profession. At the very least, my dear, I hope you remember the rules regarding sexual relations with current and prospective clients …
Steffi turned pale, and could feel her pulse racing. Of course she remembered this rule. Her friends used to joke about it … you were allowed to sleep with clients … if you had been sleeping with them before they became your clients. Otherwise, your actions were unprofessional, and you could be disbarred – kicked out of the profession forever. Duncan and Waters was well known in the legal community for being very strict about the ethical conduct of their employees. If this became known, Steffi was doomed. Even if she could avoid disbarment, her job at the firm was almost certainly in jeopardy. Unwilling to read further, Steffi nevertheless turned her glance back to the screen.
That’s right. You’ve been a naughty girl. And I know what you’re thinking – how do I know? No, I’m not Mr. Faverington.
And no, you won’t be able to lie or bluster your way out of this one. Why don’t you click on the attachment and see why not?
Steffi did so, and paused for a second, praying with her eyes shut, while the computer downloaded and virus-checked a picture file. When she opened her eyes, her worst nightmare was coming true – there on the screen was her flushed body, nude, arcing back in sexual ecstasy atop a recognizable Mr. Faverington. Steffi realized quickly from the angle that the photo had been taken through the mirror behind Faverington’s bed. Beginning to cry, she clicked back on the dreadful e-mail.
Now you have seen yourself, my dear. You are very attractive. And yes, I have many photos, along with a movie of the evening in question.
I would hate to see you lose your job, your boyfriend, or your career over this. But what can you do for me to ensure that this kind of conduct won’t repeat itself? I don’t want money, and I don’t want you – not directly.
Right
now you are probably thinking about blackmail.
But do you know who I am? No, you
don’t. What you should know is that if
you do not log on to Y-Chat by
So go ahead, my dear. Ignore me if you wish. Or, log on and have a chat with me to see what kind of deal we can arrange. It’s up to you.
Eagerly Awaiting,
Virtual Master (VM)
Steffi looked at her Luis Vuitton
watch. The slim gold band contrasted
nicely with her tanned skin. It was
Steffi returned to the computer and logged on to Y-Chat. She ignored the icons showing that various of her girlfriends were online … probably getting ready to go out, she figured … and waited. She realized her hands were shaking, and she cursed at herself, willing them to stay still.
Within moments, a bell rang on her computer screen, and up popped a box showing that a new person wished to chat. The person was named VM, and she realized the time had come.
VM: Good evening, Steffi. I think you made the right choice.
Steffi: Who are you? This is a serious crime you are committing.
VM: Let’s be serious, my dear. You’re not going to the police.
Steffi: Why not? You would go to jail.
VM: Who am I? Where do I live?
Steffi: I don’t know, but I will easily find out.
VM: I doubt that. Let me tell you about what I want from you.
Steffi: Let me guess. You want sex.
VM: How naïve.
Steffi: ?
VM: I need you to learn some self control, my dear.
Steffi: I don’t understand.
VM: You will. Now, turn on the webcam that you own.
Steffi: How do you know that I own a webcam?
VM: The same way that I know that your mother lives at the Greenbriar Home for the Elderly in Stepponing.
Steffi: !!
VM: Now, do you see why it might be a bad idea to go to the police? Turn on your webcam.
Steffi: One minute.
VM: That’s better. You look like you’ve been crying.
Steffi: I have. The lies you are telling upset me. What do want me to do? Strip?
VM: No, don’t be silly. I told you that I don’t want sex from you. In fact, after tonight, you won’t be chatting with me.
Steffi: What then?
VM: Download this program from this link. It doesn’t have any viruses, I promise: http://www.virtualmaster.com
Steffi: Um, OK.
Steffi clicked on the link, and a black webscreen appeared. She followed the instructions, and within a few minutes the program VirtualMaster had been installed on her computer. Little did she know how much this would change her life.
VM: Alright, I see you have installed the program. Please click on the ‘Start’ button, and enjoy your new way of life.
CHAPTER 2
The
Torment Begins
Steffi Williams shrugged her shoulders and clicked the ‘Start’ button on an icon of a masked face that had appeared in the middle of her screen.
A text box appeared. “Good evening, Steffi” it read. She saw that there was a right-pointing arrow at the bottom, and she clicked it with her mouse.
“You have just begun to participate in the VirtualMaster Lifestyle Program. You have 20 points. If you fall below Negative 20 (-20) Points at any time, or fail to reach 50 points within one week, the following file[s] [steffi(1).jpg, steffi(2).jpg, steffi.wmv] will be e-mailed to the following e-mail address [duncanwatersglobal@duncanwaters.com].”
Steffi gasped. 20 points? What was that? How was she supposed to ‘earn’ points? And how did she lose them? Christ, this was ridiculous. She got up and walked to the closet, deciding to get her purse and take a taxi to the local police station. This lunacy had gone far enough.
She had only gone a few steps when a loud ringing alarm bell began on her computer. Its shrill tone stopped her dead in her tracks, and she returned to the desk to see that the text box had been replaced with a timer, counting down from 60 seconds. “60 Second Countdown. Press ‘Here’ before Zero or lose Two Points.”
Steffi looked around, irritated and embarrassed. In a moment, her competitive nature and, admittedly, some nerves, asserted themselves, and she clicked the button with 8 seconds remaining. The box disappeared, and a blank screen reappeared.
Despite herself, she felt a bit curious about the program. She decided that if she was going to go the police, she should at least learn a little more about this strange set-up. At the very least, she was damned if she was going to lose points for something ridiculous like not pressing a button!
Moments after she sat back down at the desk, a chime sounded, and a box popped up on the screen. “TASK 1” read the box, with another of the ubiquitous right arrows on the bottom. She frowned and pressed the right arrow.
“TASK: Read the following memo, and report when
finished. Due Date: June 28,
There was a beep, and a memo appeared on her screen, replacing the blank box. Steffi crossed and uncrossed her legs, feeling a bit odd as she bent forward to see what the program would do.
VIRTUALMASTER: YOUR NEW
LIFESTYLE
Welcome Slave!
You have been selected to participate in the VM Lifestyle Program, an all-encompassing lifestyle guidance system designed for the submissive woman. Over the next period of your life, you will learn to bend your pride and your will in obedience to the dictates of this program. Read this memo – it may well be the most helpful document you’ve ever encountered!
I.
What is this Program?
VM is based on a simple three-tiered system of control:
A. Requests: From this point forward, you will have to request permission to perform the following functions:
B.
Tasks:
You will be assigned tasks to complete daily, with longer tasks on the weekends and during holidays. These tasks will vary, and can, but will not necessarily, include pain, humiliation, sexual torment, boredom, and bondage. You will notify the VM immediately when you begin a task, and again when the task is completed.
C.
Points and Punishments:
Your Controller has set the parameters for points (a maximum and minimum which you are required to stay within at all times). Reaching maximum points may result in a reward, while falling below a minimum will result in a severe forfeit. Punishments are available in two formats: Involuntary – as a result of failing to perform a task or permission properly; and Voluntary – in order to earn points. The more points you earn, either through proper use of the permissions, or by completing tasks, the greater a chance you have of being allowed to complete certain permissions.
Steffi stopped reading and shook her head. She could barely believe this shit. On her screen, there was a simple box now, with a couple of headings:
REPORT PUNISHMENT REQUEST REQUEST ACTIVITY REPORT
‘Report’ was in bold. She wondered why, and then remembered that she was supposed to ‘report’ when she had finished reading the memo. Well, that shouldn’t be too hard to do! She clicked on Report, and a text box opened up.
She paused for a moment, and then typed in “I have read the report.”
A buzzer sounded, and her writing was wiped out, replaced with a simple message. “IMPROPER FORMAT ERROR. PLEASE ADDRESS ALL COMMUNICATIONS TO THIS PROGRAM BY WRITING ‘DEAR MASTER’ AT THE COMMENCEMENT.”
That damn clock reappeared, counting down from 60 seconds. Getting irritated, Steffi typed “Dear Master, I have read the memo.”
A bell chimed, and a new red figure appeared. 22 points. Steffi smiled. This wasn’t that hard!
Moments later, her attention was
drawn back to the screen: TASK
ASSIGNMENT – Due Date, June 30,
Purchase
one small sized butt plug, one medium sized butt plug, a set of vibrating Ben-Wa balls, a butterfly vibrator, and a set of nipple clamps.
Steffi sniffed. She already owned a set of Ben-Wa balls, and a butterfly vibrator. She assumed that the butt plugs were a joke, since nothing – nothing – touched her butthole.
Just then the phone rang, startling her.
“Hello?”
“Stef!”
“
“Nope, I got to come home early tonight … and I don’t feel like sticking around here. Let’s go to that new Wine Bar on 18th … you know the one I mean … VinoVeritas … it’s supposed to be really hot.”
“Sounds good, sweetie. I’ve, well, it’s kind of weird.”
“What?”
“I dunno
… let me take a shower and get changed.
I’ll meet you there at
“What is it?”
“Nothing, I think. Just some really odd computer shit. There are some real freaks out there, and it just kind of got to me. I’ll talk to you soon, darling.”
“Can’t wait. Oh, and Steffi? Wear something hot, kiddo!”
Steffi
smiled. A date would be just the ticket
to get this computer perversity out of her mind. She couldn’t tell
She walked into the bathroom and disrobed in front of the large mirror. Usually bright lights didn’t do much for a woman’s figure, but she thought that she still looked really good. Firm breasts, a firm stomach, and long legs. She decided to shave the legs again in the shower, and place just the right amount of scent in some of the clefts that gleamed at the top of her legs … Campbell, for all his foolishness, could do wonders with his tongue when she allowed him down there.
Steffi got into the shower, and began to soap her breasts with a foaming sea-gel soap. She felt her nipples harden to her own touch. They had always been ultra-sensitive, and despite the tensions of the day, she began to feel aroused. Her scent – thick, rich, and moist – began to fill the bathroom. Her breath quickened, and without giving it much thought, she trailed a finger through her fast-dampening lips. If she didn’t do something quickly, she’d be on her back, frigging like crazy … but wait, she could keep this under control. Despite her high sex drive, she knew enough to save things for the date … she would just make sure that Campbell satisfied her at least five times down there before she allowed him to take her deep and hard.
She toweled herself off with a Persian towel, and then walked into her bedroom, opening up the walk-in closet. A rack of shoes, ranging from sensible 1” heels to a few bondage-style 5” fuck-me pumps greeted her, along with a horizontal bar that ran across the entire back wall. Her dresses, skirts, and business suits hung there, categorized by length and style. She was feeling sexy, so something short and hot tonight … her fingers trailed across the hangars, settling on a light blue silk dress, a shift really, that came down about halfway down her thighs. Sleeveless, and cut low in front, it was just thick enough to leave people guessing, but filmy enough to give her man a show in the right light. It was good for tonight, that was for sure. Paired with a filmy skin-toned thong and some 3” strappy white sandals, she would be a real knockout. No bra, either … her young breasts didn’t need one.
Feeling much better, Steffi walked back into the living room, and stopped dead. Rather than the 22 that she remembered, there was now a 14 flashing in the top left corner of her desktop. What the hell? Just then there was a loud buzz, and the well-known 60 second clock began counting down … “Press Here, or lose Two Points” … she looked at her watch, which she had put on again as she walked into the room … she must have failed to do this damn pushbutton a few times while she was in the shower. Steffi bit her lip. This was getting really irritating. She pushed the button, and it went away, and then she had had enough. She shut-down her computer, and marched into her bedroom to find a light wrap for the evening.
On her way out, she paused by her
computer. Maybe she should be smart, and
run a virus check while she was out.
That would probably find the root directory of this program, and destroy
it by morning.
+2: Completed Memo: 22 points
-2: Missed Time Check,
-2: Missed Time Check,
-2: Missed Time Check,
-2: Missed Time Check,
-10: Shut Down Computer,
-2: Missed Time Check,
Shit! This meant that not only could the program continue to work while the computer was shut down, but it penalized her for shutting the computer. Shit! This meant that when she was at home, she had to be on a kind of leash in front of the computer. That was ridiculous.
She decided to open all the menus to see if there was some way to reset the program. Under ‘Activity Report’, she paled slightly … she had already forgotten how many things she was supposed to ask permission for. If she understood things correctly, then in the past 15 minutes, she had broken three rules … she washed, she spoke on the phone, and she got dressed for a date. And she already had only 2 points. This was going to be really, really difficult.
Alright, she promised herself. She’d try to follow the rules – and by so doing, work around them. She would get permission to go on the internet, and then find the asshole who set this up and get him to shut the thing off.
Sighing, she clicked on ‘Request’ and scrolled down to ‘Use the Internet’. When she clicked on that heading, a text box appeared that read “Please Master, may slave steffi use the Internet?”
A bell rang, and the answer YES appeared. She smiled, until she saw that a clock was counting down from 15 minutes. Quickly she logged on to chat, and luckily, within moments, VirtualMaster was there.
VM: You’re starting to realize how this works, my dear.
Steffi: It’s shit. You’ve got to be kidding.
VM: Not at all. How many rules have you inadvertently broken?
Steffi: Three, I think.
VM: Really? Which ones?
Steffi: Um, I took a shower, I got dressed for a date that I have tonight, and I spoke on the phone to my boyfriend.
VM: Naughty, naughty. Have you reported your offenses?
Steffi: No! I mean, I already have only 1 point – I didn’t understand how it worked. Please!
VM: I find this very amusing.
Steffi: Why?
VM: Because you’re already pleading with me.
Steffi went crimson.
Steffi: Please. Please don’t send the photos.
VM: I won’t … not until you get -20 points.
Shit! There was that horrible sixty second clock again. Steffi pressed the button quickly.
Steffi: But isn’t there some way to get off on a better foot than I have?
VM: Feeling competitive? Well, I will tell you what … it’s your first night, so I will cancel the things you’ve already done wrong. But from here on out, you have to follow rules. And I mean follow them.
Steffi: But what if I lose points?
VM: My usual recommendation is that if you fall below zero, you should definitely ask for at least a 10 point punishment.
Steffi: Oh God.
VM: Enjoy.
He logged off, and Steffi stared at the clock counting down her online time, tears pooling in her eyes.
OK, she could do this. She’d weathered worse. What rules would she now have to follow to do what she wanted to do? First, her date. Shit, she had to get permission to go on a date.
She clicked on ‘Go on a Date’ from
the request list. And gasped out loud
when the answer immediately came back: NO.
Fuck, she though to herself, I’ll
have to call and cancel
What else? Oh God, she had to ask the stupid program what to wear at home. She glanced down at her gorgeous shift and sighed. “What should I wear at home?” she asked. In a moment, the answer came back, although it took a few minutes for her to believe what she saw in front of her:
Full-cut white panties
Lace thong-back teddy
Jeans
Turtleneck
Overcoat
One wool mitten
This was ridiculous. #1 it was June. #2, she would look, and feel, ludicrous. And what the fuck was this? On the computer was another timer, counting down six minutes … she realized, quickly, that this was the time she had to complete her change.
Normally, Steffi took a long time to get dressed. Her body was her greatest asset, her greatest weapon, and it deserved pampering and primping. Six minutes … this would be a challenge, to say the least.
She hurried from the room, her sandal heels clicking on the wood floor, and rushed into the bedroom. Some of her winter clothes were kept in boxes, but hopefully she could find all of this stuff.
A lace thong teddy … no problem … that was in the lingerie drawer. She grabbed a black one out.
White full-cut panties … God, she never wore granny panties … she must have a pair of period panties somewhere … she started rummaging through her drawer, scattering the finest silks, the flimsiest lace across the floor. Normally she took care of her clothes, but couldn’t do that tonight. Tissue paper and its precious contents lay strewn indiscriminately across the floor.
A turtleneck – that she could find. She grabbed one off a hangar, cursing as the neck stretched and slightly lost its shape. Jeans, ditto – not hard to find. Just hard to get on without a crowbar!
She grabbed her gabardine overcoat from its summer bag, and thank God, found one crumpled mitten lying on the floor of the back of the closet.
She glanced at her watch – about two minutes to go – she could do this! Desperately, she clawed at her silk dress, and groaned as she heard it tear as she yanked it over her head. No time for that now. As for her ‘date’ thong – she ripped it from her body. She got on the panties, the teddy, and the turtleneck, and wriggled into the jeans. Then, feeling ridiculous, she shrugged on the overcoat and put on one woolen mitten. Leaving behind the wreckage of her closet, she sprinted into the living room.
8
7
6
5
Steffi hit the ‘Dressed’ button, and the timer stopped. She waited with baited breath to see how many points she would get for succeeding at this task. And then it hit her – none. This wasn’t a special task that might get her points. This was just part of her daily routine. Dressing like an idiot in uncomfortably warm clothes, sitting in front of her computer on a Friday night, waiting -- yes, there it was, the fucking timer again – for another command. Oh God, this was not really worth it! And yet, it had barely begun.
Steffi realized that part of her problem was that she had to pee badly. At least she could take care of that if she was stuck at home! She got up and shuffled in her bare feet to the bathroom. There she got a good look at herself in the mirror. Just half an hour before she had been in here looking sexy, hot – a woman. Now, her makeup was smudged, her eyes a bit pink from crying, and she looked absolutely ludicrous. Fuck it, she thought. I’ll have a bad evening, and then I’ll go to the cops tomorrow and fix things. She returned to the living room, and her heart dropped.
What was the most humiliating thing on the list? Maybe having to ask for sex, or masturbation – but actually, to her, right now, it was the realization that she was supposed to ask for permission to use the toilet, just like a little kid in school. And she had forgotten to do that, completely forgotten. What now? VirtualMaster had warned her that ALL RULES had to be followed. So, she would have to report her error. She swallowed nervously, and clicked on ‘Report Activity’ – “Used bathroom without permission”.
A loud buzzer sounded, and for the first time she heard the program’s .Wav file #1 “Bad steffi!” it cried in a loud voice.
Her points went from 2 to -13. Shit! A 15 point penalty for using the bathroom! And now she was below zero – and nearing the dreaded -20. She realized that she had no choice but to ask for a punishment. Actually, she did have a choice, and that was partly what made the next action of hers so painful – it was her choice to click on Request a Punishment, and fill out ’15 Points’ in the box that asked her what level punishment she desired. Jesus, she didn’t desire any punishment!
And here is what she had to do:
“slave,” announced the computer program, “you will be punished as follows. You will go into your bathroom with a knife, a fork, and a plate. You will unwrap a bar of bath soap, place it on the plate, and then, using the knife and fork, cut it into bites and eat it. Once you are completely done, you will spend the next 45 minutes on your knees, licking the doorknob.”
PLEASE PRESS THE BUTTON WHEN YOU WISH TO BEGIN THE PUNISHMENT. PUNISHMENT MUST BE COMPLETED WITHIN THE NEXT 48 HOURS.
Oh God, though steffi, my evening just went from bad to worse. But, she thought, she didn’t want this punishment hanging over her head for the rest of the weekend. If she got it done now, then she could go to the police in the morning. And at least it was nothing horribly sexual, or particularly nasty. She liked her Eau-de-Lavender soap, so how bad could it taste? The whole knife and fork thing was a bit perverse, but all in all it could have been worse.
She went into the bathroom and sat down on the tiled floor with a dinner plate in front of her. She reached into the cupboard under the sink and withdrew a bar of soap. The smell when she unwrapped it calmed her, as always, and she became increasingly convinced that this wouldn’t be so bad.
Placing it on the plate in front of
her, Steffi cut a small bite, speared it with her
fork, and popped it into her mouth. It
was bitter, and the floral scent, rather than appearing subtly in the air, as
it did when she washed, filled her mouth and nose with an acrid stench. She gagged slightly, and her eyes teared up. She bit
her lip, trying hard not to think about the Chateau-Margot and seared tuna that
she should be dining on with
Finally, she was done. This had been a bad moment for her. And now, she had more punishment to look forward to … 45 minutes on the floor, licking, for fuck’s sake, her bathroom doorknob.
She got on her knees, feeling
actually grateful for her clown-like outfit of jeans and an overcoat. Her pink tongue flicked out and began to
carve a graceful tracery across the metal doorknob. Ah, she thought, this tongue was supposed to
be flicking in and out of
The 45 minutes seemed like 45 days. Finally, she saw on her watch that her time in purgatory had finished. She rose to her feet, swaying unsteadily as blood rushed back to her extremities, and tottered back into the living room.
There she reported her punishment done, and was pleased to see that her number returned to 2. Still not high, but it beat hell out of -13.
And she was exhausted, completely exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Cursing her helplessness, she asked the program “Please, Master, may slave steffi go to bed?”
And cursed further when she the
answer: “Yes. Sleep on the floor
tonight, slave steffi, and be ready to report at
6 AM? God, it was
And then she realized she had one last thing to do – ask the computer what to wear to bed. God, what it would come up with now? And at this final straw, she burst into sobs:
White lace demi-cup bra
Shaking, she stumbled into her bedroom, stripped off her clothes, and fastened on a crumpled white lace demi-cup bra, that lifted her breasts out and left her nipples, and the smooth slopes above them, fully exposed. This was a bra to wear for a lover – CERTAINLY not a bra to wear for an evening sleeping on a splintery wood floor.
Crying, she collapsed in a heap on the ground, there to spend an uncomfortably cold, and all too short, night.
She had hoped that her dreams would give her a chance to escape the oppressive
reality, but even if they did, they ended all too soon with the dawning of her
next day.
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