Chapter 22: Chapter 22 – Natalie: Rollercoaster ride

The first time I rode one of the big rollercoasters, I was almost eleven years old, and I'd been begging to do it for years. Every summer, my family went on a trip to the same amusement park, and every year, being under average height for my age, I was too short for the extreme thrill rides. My kid brother got to ride it when he was nine. I just about died of jealousy.

Then finally it happened. I was just tall enough.

I was ecstatic. There was no question but that I was going to ride it. I hopped in line with a quick "see you later" to my parents. At that moment in time, there was literally nothing I wanted more in the world than to ride that rollercoaster.

My excitement held when the car jerked forward. I was in the very front row, ready to experience what had built up in my mind as the ultimate of thrills. Then we started up the hill, and it was exciting. I was so looking forward to throwing my hands in the air on my way down on the other side. But the trip up took a long time and we were moving so slow and the hill was so steep and so high.

Suddenly eagerness turned to anxiety. That was a very big drop. Was that safe? How could it possibly be safe?

Nearly in a panic, tears flowed from my eyes. I begged to get off, but, of course, it was far too late at that point.

I was starting to feel the same way I had when I was that little girl.

Julia called out of the blue early this morning, and, really, the less I thought about that the better. After hanging up the phone, though, a weird mood overtook me. Just like I'd told Hugh, I wanted to stop being afraid and embrace the opportunities I was being given. I wanted to live.

But there were other reasons as well, ones that I wasn't ready yet to share with him. A big one was that, despite his reluctance, I felt it was inevitable that we would be adding other system users. I mean, if you told me that I'd walk all the way from the parking lot to my apartment wearing just my skimpiest underwear, I would have called 911 to have you committed. Seriously, if the system can lead to that impossibility, I'd be stupid not to anticipate it making us go where it obviously wanted us to.

Frankly put, I wanted as many of Hugh's firsts as I could get, and I wanted him to think of me as the girl who turned him on in every way imaginable. When those other girls did come along, I wanted my position as his girlfriend to be ironclad.

Admitting that to myself was tough and it made me feel like a traitor to modern women, but I could only feel what I felt.

Another reason was even more problematic. If Hugh had asked me out in high school, I would have refused without a second thought, letting him down as gently as possible of course. I always liked how kind he was, but there was just nothing attractive about him. I guess if I had to pin the problem on one characteristic, it was that he was too meek. That day in the mall really changed everything for me. But a part of me was getting into things even before that, and I understood myself enough to know why. Quite simply, he made me feel sexy and desirable. It was nice to feel that way. The mall, though, it was hard to describe.

On one hand, it was scary for so many reasons. I was exposed to people in public. That fact that Hugh didn't actually have full control over the situation wasn't good. A guy approached me. But, really, what was going to happen? Someone would have to fight Hugh to get to me and then assault me, all in public without security noticing? Doubtful. I think it felt more dangerous than it actually was. And I was fully covered, so I hadn't actually done anything illegal.

The really scary part was how both he and I reacted. It was like I was hypnotized but still totally aware of what was going on, a passenger in my own body. But I wasn't. I knew at any moment I could simply choose to do something different, but, even though I was thoroughly mortified by my actions, it was like I didn't want to stop doing it. But I did. But I didn't. I was so confused.

Hugh totally got off on it. He transformed from "are you sure this is okay" to "that was incredibly hot, now do this." All that meekness and nerdy boy demeanor was gone, replaced with a strong man who knew what he wanted and was out to get it.

If I had to put it into on word, it would be "confidence." The Hugh I saw that day commanded me to do very embarrassing, very sexual things like there was nothing to it. There was no doubt in his mind that I should naturally follow his commands. I'd never seen him like that.

It wasn't really so much that I wanted him to tell me what to do - though, honestly, having him know what he wanted and being okay with just telling me was nice; better than guessing - it was that it made me see him in a different light. Confidence was sexy.

So I was pretty sure that, outside of just being the first guy to show me attention, I was starting to like him for who he was. And I liked the feelings I was having. I wanted to have more of them. I went to bed the last couple of nights thinking about how much I wished he had touched me, how much I wanted him to go as far as possible with me. I wanted him, and I wanted him to want me so bad it hurt.

So with all those thoughts and emotions swirling through my head all morning, I put together a plan of how I could get Hugh to agree to do what I wanted him to, not that it was really all that difficult. After all, he wanted what I wanted just as much and probably more! He was just too scared and too kind to go through with it. So, no, I didn't feel bad at all about manipulating him into promising me.

I felt terrified, though, now that I was going to have to go through with it. My mouth had written the check. Now my body was going to have to pay up.

"What I heard from you," Hugh said, "is that you want me to force you to fulfill all my most perverted sexual fantasies. You realize that, right?"

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I nodded sheepishly.

"You made me promise not to take it easy on you, not to take into account your feelings at all. That was your intent?"

I nodded again.

"Just one final question," he said. "Are you absolutely positively one hundred percent sure that this is what you want?"

No. No, I very much wasn't.

God! Why had I done that? My reasoning had seemed so clear earlier.

I so wanted to blame the system for forcing me into this, but I couldn't. This was all me. A combination of melancholy and lingering sexual frustration and fear combined to make it seem like blowing my comfort zone to smithereens was somehow a good idea.

Despite my doubts, I nodded a third time.

"It's your choice. I take no responsibility other than for your safety." He paused, staring off into space, definitely preparing to give me a quest.

"Wait!"

Changed your mind?" I don't know if he sounded disappointed or relieved. I bet even he didn't know which he actually felt.

"No. I just forgot to tell you that I decided on what I was doing with my free attribute point. I want to add it to charisma."

"Interesting choice," he said. "Hmm. You haven't allocated it yet, right?"

I shook my head.

"Good. Don't. I think I have an idea to test that later. A quest. I think you're truly going to be mortified."

I couldn't help it; I shivered.

After a few moments, the box I'd been both dreading and anticipating popped up.

He certainly wasn't pulling any punches, exactly as I'd told him. Every part of that quest was designed to embarrass me, from referring to my breasts in such a juvenile, low class way to pointing out that he could tell I wasn't wearing a bra. And he went straight for the jugular, too. No more keeping my delicate parts covered. Time to start showing off skin in earnest.

There was no way I could refuse to do it, either, not after the stink I'd made getting him to this point. I was going to have to do this.

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