Part 1
The store’s chime went off as the elderly Mr. Greenfield shuffled out. Athena watched the pensioner scurry away, likely her last paying customer of the evening. Mr. Greenfield was a regular, twice a month customer, and always late at night. He had to be pushing 80, but clearly his libido was still intact. Mrs. Greenfield was a lucky woman, mused the goth store clerk.
She tapped at her phone, glancing at the time. Just over twenty minutes to close. With tired eyes, she looked up at the only remaining patrons, though she hardly wanted to use the term. It was a couple, barely out of their teens. They had spent the last forty minutes giggling, ogling, and laughing at everything in the sex shop. Athena let an exasperated sigh rattle from deep within her. She was too fucking tired for this. She’d stayed up all night finishing a freelance piece for some obscure blog. It was a bunch of drivel she had written, but it paid, and thus helped keep the lights on. Oh, the woes of a struggling writer.
Athena rubbed her eyes. She glanced down at her laptop under the counter. Twenty minutes wasn’t much, but she could use it to work on her current novel or perhaps do some editing. After getting several short stories published during university, she’d failed in the years since to get anything officially published. Well, that wasn’t precisely true. In the last couple of years, she had self-published a few novellas and novels across several platforms. It had been a mostly disappointing affair. A few hundred to couple thousand copies sold, with most of the income going directly to the platforms she published on or other costs such as editing and cover art.
Despite the failures, she was determined to keep going; to pursue this rapidly vanishing dream she’d had her whole life. Sighing to herself, she pulled out the ancient laptop and opened up her most recent work. Her misery soon intensified as she realized her newest story was absolute garbage. No wonder I can’t get published, she thought dejectedly. She looked up to see the couple waving a display dildo in the air.
Athena gazed up to the ceiling and flicked her lip ring with her tongue. How did I end up working in a fucking sex shop? she bemoaned. She’d planned on being a bestselling author by now. She slammed the laptop closed with an audible, angry grunt. She glared at the immature duo until they finally put the fake dick back on the shelf. It took longer than it should have, probably because Athena wasn’t in her full menacing goth regalia. She’d been too tired. She had thrown on some black lipstick, but that was as far as her makeup had gotten on the day. No eyeliner, no eyeshadow, her hair sloppily pulled up instead of styled. She’d thrown on a serviceable black tank top, basic black jeans, and a pair of well-worn combat boots she’d had since high school. It barely qualified as goth in her mind, which annoyed her little black heart, and fuck she was too tired to deal with the fucking creeps and immature assholes today. Er tonight! This job fucking sucked.
Athena sat back down behind the counter and took a deep breath. That wasn’t true. She actually sort of liked the job, oddly enough. The pay was better than any retail job she had ever seen. George, the owner, and his partner were actually really sweet, hence the overpaying she supposed. This was a small passion project for the two successful businessmen. And then there was the fact that Athena did like helping people find those fun, kinky corners of their soul. She took pleasure in being a dark, kinky fairy godmother. Besides, there was nothing like seeing some jackass meathead who thought they were god’s gift to the world come in blushing as they asked for a dildo to shove up their own puckered sphincter. Okay, that last one had only happened once, but it had stuck with Athena.
The goth writer yawned and stretched. Fuck, she needed sleep. No rest for the wicked. You can sleep when you’re rotting in the ground, she cheerfully reminded herself. Then an interesting twist, at least to her sleep deprived self, popped into her head for her current story, and her attention turned back to the closed laptop. She was about to open the sacred, if dying, machine when the store’s chime went off. Athena’s mood soured again instantly. There were less than ten minutes to close. Who the hell would show up now in the middle of the work week this late?
Cutting her pale blue eyes towards the intruder, Athena had been prepared to stare daggers at the late arrival, hoping to shoo them away, but she froze, her mouth opening slightly, a perplexed look etched in relief on her face. She wasn’t exactly sure what sort of person she’d expected to see, but it definitely wasn’t the one now standing in the entry as they looked about. It was a beautiful redheaded woman in an immaculate designer business suit. Her jewelry and handbag made clear her wealth, but they were actually tasteful somehow. Even from here, Athena could tell she had a wonderful and fit body under those stuffy clothes. Intelligent green eyes surveyed the store, looking for something specific. Her red, slightly wavy tresses cascaded down like a fiery waterfall to her shoulders. She was divinely beautiful.
The woman’s attire and appearance might have surprised Athena on any day, but it wouldn’t have caused her mind to short circuit and have a nuclear meltdown as it was now. No, that distinction was thanks to who the woman was, Juliette fucking Monroe. The name tasted of bile in her mouth. Not in all of eternity would Athena have expected Juliette to walk through those doors. Athena fell back into her chair in shock. The woman who had been the source of so much anguish and suffering, and not the good kind, was here in the flesh. Athena hadn’t seen her in a couple years, and hadn’t spoken to her in longer still, but a flood of emotions drowned the exhausted woman. Rage, perhaps the better word was wroth, held sway at the surface, but under it was a deeper current of melancholy, sadness, nostalgia, and the faintest hint of something long dormant in the goth’s blackened soul.
Athena wanted to storm over and yell at Juliette to leave, maybe even give her a good punch to the face or a swift kick to the ass as she ran from the store, but paralysis gripped her. She sat, mouth agape as she witnessed Juliette identify whatever she was looking for and begin walking with purpose towards the far wall. What even could little miss prim and proper want in a place like this? Athena thought to herself. She was so lost in thought, so focused on the lone woman striding confidently through the store, she didn’t notice that the young couple had finally left, buying nothing, of course.
Athena went from puzzled at what would bring such a dignified woman, to this humble den of sin, to being completely flabbergasted that she was on a direct course for the BDSM section. What the fuck would a basic bitch like her want with that? There’s no way she’s into the scene. Look at her Athena! Yet, there she was perusing paraphernalia of a kinky persuasion. Trying to reconcile the warring memories of Juliette from her past, Athena reached the conclusion that the woman must be bored with whatever bland hetero nightmare her current boyfriend was, and wanted to spice it up. She’d probably freak in a minute at the wide selection of frankly intimidating gear on display, and at most buy one of the fuzzy pairs of pretend handcuffs that most vanillas treated like obscene symbols of perversion.
It was truly hard to picture the perfect, prim, once popular cheerleader from high school now seeking out a bit of kink, though if Athena were truthful with her feelings, it was actually harder to think about the kind beautiful dork she had once considered her closest friend, her soulmate even, fucking some douchebag named Brad. Unexpected tears misted Athena’s eyes for a fleeting moment before rage pushed the sorrow away.
Athena’s gaze lingered on the arrogant woman’s perfectly curated look. Her clothes were worth a small fortune, but were more pragmatic and austere than one would expect, projecting quiet confidence. Her handbag was high-end designer, and probably worth more than Athena made in a month. Her posture was immaculate, and her makeup was so perfectly applied that Athena would have thought it natural radiance if it weren’t for the fact that it covered up the smattering of freckles the goth had once found so endearing in their youth. It was all a tailored façade, a vapid attempt to make others feel inferior and to hide the woman’s shitty soul, Athena confidently told herself. Well, fuck this bitch. She wouldn’t be intimidated by her rich ass. The redhead approached, a simple matte box in hand.
Athena didn’t look away from the woman as Juliette set the item down on the counter. Before Athena could summon the strength to voice her indignation, Juliette’s eyes rose, and the two locked into a mutual gaze for the first time on the night. Two emeralds and two sapphires forged in a shared, yet forgotten, past. Athena’s resolve melted as she thought she saw the palest reflection of the bright, beautiful soul of her best friend in those verdant eyes. Athena was about to address her long gone Jules when the moment vanished, and the mimic before her showed its true colors when it opened its wretched mouth.
“Pardon me, but how much is this set? I didn’t find a tag,” the woman asked in a polished and practiced polite accent devoid of any honest emotion, as if she were speaking to a random stranger.
Athena’s anger boiled back up. Did Juliette not recognize her? Time had passed since they had last seen each other, but they had known each other from the time they were four and had spent practically every day from then until Juliette’s countless betrayals pushed Athena away completely when they were 17. There was no way she didn’t know who the goth was. She was a heartless monster, it appeared, trying to forget their past. Those days of innocence and kindness.
Athena wanted to punch that perfect makeup off the woman’s face, but she restrained herself. She couldn’t afford to lose this job, and even though George was a fantastic boss, she didn’t think he’d be able to accept decking a customer, even one so deserving. So Athena did what she had to. She swallowed her pride, clenched her jaw and reached for the box that she still hadn’t looked at closely. In her mind, it could only be fuzzy handcuffs or something pedestrian like that. Her eyes were still fixed on the placid face before her. She studied every familiar feature, looking for any sign of recognition. The green eyes, once full of wonder and excitement, were glazed, empty voids. Her eyebrow remained unraised, missing that cute quizzical arch it had so often had when they were young. This was a plastic imitation of that wondrous girl she had fallen in love with years ago.
Continuing that disappointed line of thought, Athena conjured a mental image of Juliette laying nude on a plush bed, her hands cuffed to the headboard with ridiculous pink fuzz covered handcuffs, a bland man named Chad pounding away uncaringly at Juliette’s pussy in the missionary position. Her pert tits flapping as she faked an orgasm from those soft pretty lips. The same supple lips that beckoned Athena to kiss them. Er had beckoned, HAD! The goth screamed to herself. Shaking her head slightly to rid the distressing thoughts swirling there, she pulled the box closer to see what the item was. Athena instantly recognized it. She knew exactly what was inside and the price to the penny. It was something she had coveted herself ever since it had come in. Still, she opened the box to confirm it did indeed contain what she thought it did, and to her dismay, it really did.
Inside was a complete set of eight padded dark green leather cuffs, a hand-crafted set made by a renowned fetish designer. They were made of the finest materials, and since they were one of a kind, they had a hefty cost that had left them tantalizingly out of the goth clerk’s financial means. Athena couldn’t help but picture the cuffs on Jules’s toned body. The padded leather tightly strapped to wrists, biceps, ankles, and thighs as the beauty sat on knees in a classic pinup pose, head tossed back, an inviting naughty smile on those perfect lips as the sun cast golden rays upon flaming red hair.
Lost for the moment in the fantasy, Athena automatically responded with her own practiced professionalism, conveying the outrageous price with no need to think. Juliette seemed nonplussed by the cost and nonchalantly offered her card as payment.
Ringing up the purchase, Athena’s mind meandered back from her dream. She tried to remind herself that this bitch wasn’t worth her time. That she was awful. That she didn’t even remember Athena, for fuck's sake! Righteous indignation returned. She bagged the box and handed it back to those manicured delicate hands, a far cry from the scratched and scabbed ones of the girl who enjoyed exploring abandoned buildings and sketching charcoal images of the gloomy beauty of the world. As Athena released her grasp on the bag, something surprising happened again on an already bizarre night. Juliette smiled warmly like she once did so very long ago and said, “Thanks, Atty.”
Athena mumbled something back, but she couldn’t have said what those words were if her life depended on it. The old affectionate pet name, delivered in a voice that echoed with the ghosts of the past, had completely shattered the goth’s fatigued and assailed mind. Jules had remembered her under all the bullshit. Athena knew she should be mad at Juliette for all the wrongs she had wrought upon her, for all the pain she had caused, and for acting like she didn’t recognize her until that final moment. Yet, for some reason, Athena felt a strange mix of longing and warmth. She barely moved a muscle until well after the door chime had signaled the departure of the specter of her past. Athena’s mind, heart, and soul were a tumultuous tempest. Her financial woes and her failures as a writer, all gone, replaced by thoughts of a chance encounter with a redhead from her past.
…
Days had passed since Juliette stormed back, if ever so briefly, into Athena’s life. Since then, she’d been in a strange place. The reminder of her youth created warring emotions in her. Painful, bittersweet memories of sleepovers (usually at the palace of a house Jules had called home), corny puns, and late-night B-Movie marathons, tore open old wounds. The strange optimism they had shared in each other’s future, a fate imagined to be forged together side-by-side, while also finding the exquisite beauty in the tragic world around them. Sharing their most intimate hopes and fears, well, mostly. That nostalgia both made Athena want to cry in happiness at those cherished memories, but also created an unbearable tightness in her chest as she lamented what should have been.
When not wading through that sticky and wondrously melancholic morose morass of lost innocence, Athena’s thoughts turned to another emotion Juliette sparked with her return, fury. Alongside every memory of Jules, the saintly gloomy girl and aspiring artist, were the painful memories of how she’d shut Athena out. It hadn’t been all at once; it had been a slow, agonizing descent into hellfire. First, Jules had started trying out new hobbies and passions that Athena couldn’t follow her in. Track, then cheer-fucking-leading. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but then Jules, no Juliette, started embracing the shitty people who participated in those same activities.
Athena had actually been happy to see the kind girl she had been friends with succeed and reach a degree of popularity in the high school’s hierarchy that she herself could never dream of. It had been so reassuring to see people place the girl she had fallen madly in love with for numerous reasons, be recognized by so many of their peers, good and bad. Those feelings had been short-lived though, because as Juliette’s popularity rose, things changed for the worse for Athena. Initially, even as popular as Juliette became, she always made time for Athena. That had brought with it the ire of the social climbers that clung to her meteoric rise. The cheerleaders, in particular, in the most fucking cliched way possible, tormented Athena daily, deriding her and telling her how she was holding Juliette back. Athena had endured the harassment for Jules’s sake; the naïve young woman was too busy to notice the tortures her new friends inflicted, apparently.
Looking back now, Athena supposed she had actually been the naïve one, failing to recognize that Juliette had to have known about the torment. Hell, she had probably instigated it to rid herself of Athena, the fucking coward. After all, as the harassment had ramped up and Athena had needed someone to support her, Juliette had conveniently started putting up barriers and separating herself. They went from inseparable to barely talking in such a short span of time. It had been one thing when Jules’s parents had banished Athena from their home as a bad influence on their sweet daughter after the goth came out as a lesbian. Those times had been different and being one of the only out of the closet lesbians at school had only painted a bigger target on her back.
Jules had been there supporting her over coming out, but then that support had turned to neglect as Juliette ignored her precisely when she needed her dearest confidant. Eventually, Juliette simply stopped talking to Athena altogether. That betrayal of their friendship had only been made worse by the irony that Jules had been the one to spark Athena’s realization of her sexuality. Combined with how close they had been, it had just cut so deeply into the young Athena’s psyche, and sorrow had quickly turned to rage in those days.
Present Athena couldn’t help but loathe the fact that something so many years ago still held a grip on her. It was fucking pathetic. She had thought that pain and trauma was healed and now scarred over emotional damage. The reappearance of the beautiful and grotesque redhead had made plain how false that belief was.
So, it had been that Athena, night and day, had kept returning to those old memories and the recent short-lived chance encounter. It was unnatural how completely it had conquered Athena. It left her a wreck, but on the positive side, the powerful emotional whiplash seemed perfectly adept at unleashing Athena’s creativity. She had written a ridiculous amount in the last few days. Apparently, emotional turmoil really was the best fuel for an artist, not that Athena really saw herself as one these days.
In the present, Athena sat behind the counter at work, decked to the nines in full goth mode. A lacy black top, a flowing multilayered dress, silver raven skull earrings, full-face pale makeup, fierce dark eyeshadow and eyeliner, spiked and thick choker, and finally her trusted combat boots with knee high black-and-white striped socks. Her hair styled in something out of a 2000s alt rock band cover. It had been a while since she had taken the time to really go all out like this, even touching up her nail polish and hair dye on an almost daily basis. She had maintained some variation of this look on each day since seeing Juliette, and Athena couldn’t for the life of her understand why. It had simply felt right in a way it numbly hadn’t in years.
Beyond the war between bittersweet memories and wrath inducing ones, another peculiar thing had happened. Normally, she couldn’t wait to close the shop, but since seeing the redhead, those last few minutes of the night filled her with dread and anxiety instead. It was pathetic that the idea of Juliette returning so completely dominated her mind. Athena hated it, but here she was fretting about if the woman would deign to grace her with her presence.
With only about ten minutes to close, Athena felt the same sense of disappointment she had experienced the previous nights, but then the store’s chime went off. Athena’s heart swelled. In walked the woman that had enthralled her mind once more. This time, though, she wasn’t dressed in a stylish business suit. Athena turned a deep red under her mask of goth war-paint. Juliette was in gym clothes, her sports bra and yoga pants leaving nothing to the imagination, showing off a toned feminine form despite the passage of time. Her fiery hair pulled back into a loose ponytail of sorts. The impeccably applied makeup of the previous encounter was completely gone, revealing those adorable freckles each in the same exact spot Athena remembered them in. The woman held the gym bag over one shoulder, and she shot the goth a smile and a wave of the hand before heading directly back towards the BDSM section.
Athena had been rehearsing how she would angrily confront the damn bitch the past couple of nights, but the raw look tonight had set her on the back foot unexpectedly. She should have flipped the bird at the fucking traitorous cunt, but instead she gave a weak smile and a half-hearted, slow wave back. What the hell Athena! You aren’t the timid introvert kid anymore. You’ve thrown down with drunken homophobic frat boys before. The arthritic pain in her shoulder always reminded her of that every time it rained.
She kept trying to reignite the burning anger she needed to tear into the damn bitch, but for some reason beyond comprehension, it was failing her right now in the moment of truth. She watched passively, expectantly even, as Juliette quickly selected another package from the fetish area. This time Athena had the wherewithal to clock the item as the redhead approached. It was a green silicone ball gag. At least she seems to remember that I told her how good she looked in green, Athena thought, picturing the shiny silicone ball wedging Juliette’s mouth wide alongside the set of green leather cuffs from the other night. She felt an itch between her legs. She flushed. Come on, have some self-respect Athena, she reminded herself.
“Hi again Atty, here could I buy this?” the woman extended a hand with the new box. Athena reached out and, in her nervousness, did so too far. Her black nail polished fingers grazing the manicured and unpainted ones of the other woman. Athena quickly shifted her grip as if she had touched a live electrical wire, and in a way, it had been. The briefest graze indeed seemed to zap Athena with a charge, her breath seizing and her heart fluttering. As she fully grabbed the package, Athena admonished herself, get it together, remember this cunt is a monster, a sexy monster sure, but a fucking monster.
Her protestations felt hollow, though this close to Jules. How was she so damn alluring, even after everything? As Athena rang up the item and processed the payment, the reality of her situation dawned on her. She was serving this woman who had caused her untold pain. It enkindled a small ember of the raging flames she needed to confront Juliette, but that was still far too little.
As Athena handed the bagged ball gag back to the pretty redhead, Juliette asked a surprising question, “How’s your mother doing these days, Atty?”
The words sounded genuine, but Athena finally gleefully saw red again. The audacity of this cunt to ask about how her mother was when she knew full fucking well the debilitating condition she was in with her illness! As if she even cared! Athena excitedly prepared to bark furiously at the question, but then she noticed the small curl to Jules’s mouth, the slight clench of her jaw, and the light familiar furrowing of concerned eyebrows.
An ancient memory flashed through Athena’s mind. A terrible night years ago. The night she’d learned her brother had died in an accident. She’d been standing beside Jules, the two joking about a terrible B-rated sci-fi movie they’d just watched while they raided the opulent kitchen at Jules’s home. The laughter dying in her throat as her sobbing mother recounted over the phone how a drunk driver had struck Ethan head on, sending his car careening into a service ditch and killing him before the paramedics even arrived. Unable to hear the conversation, but able to see the numbness descend upon Athena’s face, Jules had taken on that same look, clenched jaw, furrowed brow, and all. Athena could practically feel the hot tears of that night as she’d wept for hours into the redhead’s embrace, right there on the marbled floor of a kitchen she would later be banished from.
That tender memory sapped the hatred once more. Athena gave a half-whispered response, “She has her good days and her bad ones, as always.”
The look of concern seemed to slacken and turned to something more like regret, as Juliette continued, “I guess I could have guessed that. Uh, well, tell her I said hi and um, she’ll be in my thoughts as always.”
Athena’s currently split psyche did somersaults at that. One part screamed we don’t need your pity, bitch, another balked at the woman’s forwardness to ask her to act as an errand girl for her, and last there was that quiet inner part of Athena that felt, dare she admit it, touched.
In contrast to the whirling storm inside her, Athena spoke with coolness, “Sure, whatever Juliette.” The cold dismissiveness surprised both women. The redhead took her bag and looked down as she hurried away without another word. Had she looked upset, dejected, or even hurt? Athena thought disbelieving. After all she’d done, this bitch wanted Athena to feel pity for her? The fuck?! And why was it that such a manipulative thing was working?
…
Over the next couple of weeks, Juliette reappeared three more times, once in full business outfit and twice in workout clothes. Each time she avoided eye contact, head downcast, as she made a series of purchases that continued to make Athena jealous for a variety of reasons. The toys she was purchasing were the exact ones Athena wanted, but couldn’t afford herself. More than that though, she kept thinking of and hating whatever manosphere fucker was getting to see the bondage gear on Juliette.
With each dejected visit, Athena’s resolve weakened. Next to the shouting voice declaring this was exactly what Juliette deserved, was a quieter one that wanted to apologize and tell the redhead she hadn’t meant to make her feel bad for just asking after a woman who had been more of a mother to her than her own emotionally distant biological bitch of a mother, but each visit neither voice claimed ascendency over her vocal cords.
Finally, on the fourth visit, the stalemate broke, not on Athena’s side, but from Juliette. As Athena rang up a particularly vicious set of clover clamps, the workout clad redhead asked a remarkable question, “So, will we ever get to learn if Cory catches the serial killer or gets the girl?”
Athena paused mid-transaction to look at Juliette, as another of Athena’s siloed worlds collided unexpectantly. The question was a clear indication that not only had Juliette read one of Athena’s obscure self-published works, but one of the least downloaded ones. It was the one about a female detective pursuing a murderer while trying to mend a broken relationship with her girlfriend. It had killed Athena that it had done so poorly, as she really felt a connection to the characters in the story.
She genuinely couldn’t believe Juliette had read it, but there was no way for Athena to dodge this one. She let a small sincere smile break on her face, “Well, no spoilers, but I tend to be a romantic a lot of the time, soooo…” She gave a playful shrug. No need to spoil that the murderer and girlfriend were one and the same.
Juliette, no, Jules, let out a small chuckle. “Right, you always did like a love story, so long as it was wrapped in a good tragedy.” There was a knowing look on the woman’s face, and Athena understood her once friend had already deduced the plot twist. She had always been clever like that. For a passing second, Athena felt transported back to when they were young and always finding ways to make each other smile. Then the awkward silence settled in, each woman standing clumsily drinking in the other.
“Oh! You were supposed to close ten minutes ago! So sorry Atty,” Jules apologized as she took her purchase and left in a hurry. Athena stood dumbfounded once again. She didn’t even care that she would be even later than usual closing up. What the hell is this? She’s read my book, and why does she keep coming here? And why do I keep hoping she won’t stop?
…
As time went on Jules visited every few days, the two engaging in a mix of small talk and nostalgic banter. Then one night while Jules was buying an exquisitely made green leather sensory deprivation hood, one with only an opening for around the mouth and two tiny holes for nostrils, cementing her kink credentials in Athena’s mind, things took another odd turn.
After a bit of back and forth about the recent announcement of a reboot of one of their favorite films, a clearly staged look of remembrance flashed on the redhead’s face, “Almost forgot, I have something for you.” She rummaged into the large bag she had with her. Athena almost called her on the clearly feigned forgetfulness, but stopped when Jules pulled a singular white lily from the bag explaining, “A client of mine sent an arrangement of flowers as thanks recently, and I saw there was a white lily in the bunch, and I remember vaguely how you used to say they were your favorite.”
Athena stood paralyzed. Memories of younger versions of the two women flooded back. Not long after Athena had realized she was gay, and had it bad for Jules no less, she’d tried dropping hints in only the way dorky awkward teenagers could. One of those hints had come when Athena convinced Jules to watch an anime about two school friends and their ‘close’ relationship, and how even though the two never actually kissed in the show, their romantic feelings were symbolized by the writers when one girl gave a white lily to the other.
A panicky Athena at the time had gone on a long, somewhat misinformed diatribe about how the white lily had become associated with lesbian or ‘yuri’ stories. Now, years later, Jules was handing her a fucking white lily like it was nothing. How was she supposed to take this? Was it a cruel joke by Juliette? A bit of innocent naivete? After all, Jules had seemed infuriatingly puzzled that day over Athena’s convoluted explanation and obsession, not taking the hint then, to her dismay. Even so, Jules was a very intelligent person and wouldn’t do anything without carefully planning it out far in advance.
Stunned, the goth reached out haltingly, taking the flower from Jules. “Thank you, yeah these have always had a special meaning to me,” she quietly mumbled.
“Well, glad I remembered it then. Until next time I need something kinky, Atty!” Jules said, winking as she strolled out, leaving a speechless Athena holding a white lily.
Athena tried to reconcile the past few weeks. They had been traumatizing, dredging up past wrongs and broken dreams. They had split open festering wounds that pulsated now with puss filled anxieties and pain. Yet, that was only half of the story. Somehow, she’d sipped once more from the enchanted chalice she had taken for granted in her unknowing youth. It had taken frighteningly little to spark her self-destructive addiction once more. She’d found an echo of what had once filled the gaping maw that now passed for her soul. Athena knew this wasn’t healthy, that Juliette symbolized a weaker time in her life. One when she’d grappled with identity and purpose. Things she wanted to believe she’d put to rest, but that were clearly resurrecting now.
…
Fuck! Athena jogged back to the register, panting in part from the frenetic evening at the store and in part from her utter lack of any regular exercise routine whatsoever. She slammed the tasteful box containing a purple vibe down on the counter, and after a few labored breaths said, “Here ma’am... found the... last one we had in stock in purple.”
The middle-aged and talkative woman thanked her profusely, her tone having become sweet now that she had exactly what she wanted versus the demanding Karen voice from a few minutes earlier that had been so dissatisfied with the store’s lack of color options. As Athena completed the transaction, she couldn’t help but think once again, why does the color matter so much? Are you color coordinating your sex? Maybe?
She had barely sent the Karen on her way when three more customers lined up with questions and purchases, and there were at least another twenty customers roaming the place. She was rapidly getting exhausted physically and mentally. Friday nights could get busy, but even this had been abnormally so. That was why typically they had two people working on Fridays, but of course, flakey Melanie had not shown up for her shift. The absentminded university student was the worst. She hadn’t even called in to say she would be out.
In between two fairly big rushes, Athena had tried to get some help. Eddie apparently was two states over dealing with a family emergency, poor guy, and no one else had the decency to even pick up. And worst of all, the owner, George, was out of the country on a cruise with his husband in some remote corner of the globe. Fuck my life, Athena bemoaned, as she checked out an overweight man buying edible underwear that were clearly too small for him or his wife next to him, though the goth didn’t dare say a word.
Athena wiped at her eyes, smearing her dark mascara. Her once immaculate goth makeup was destroyed, ruined by a hectic night of running about the shop. She’d discarded the lacy dress she had chosen originally for the shift. Doffing it in the stockroom while retrieving items. She luckily had a simple black t-shirt and skirt that were worlds better for tonight's pace. She hadn’t even had time to scarf anything down for dinner. There were just too many people to help. At least George would be happy with her sales off of this one night.
The next batch of customers yielded another cavalcade of oddballs. Were there any other kind? Take the current cute twenty-year-old woman asking Athena if she could test the dildo vibrator and then return it if she didn’t like it. WHAT…IS…WRONG…WITH…YOU! Athena shouted in her mind, but she politely explained such items could not be returned per store policy.
That only sparked a confusing round of seemingly deep self-contemplation by the dildo tester as to whether to get the item or not. Meanwhile, about four more customers waited impatiently behind her. Athena was ready to strangle the sexy little bitch when the door chime went off again. She automatically looked over to see what new mad person would continue tonight’s hell, but instead, she was greeted by an angelic visage.
It was Jules, in her workout attire. Athena had hoped she would come in tonight. She wanted to talk to her about the lily. Since last time, Athena just couldn’t shake that Jules, or Juliette, or whoever she was these days, had been planning something. The woman she had known had been nothing, if not an incessant planner who crafted intricate and often convoluted plans for everything. Athena needed to know why she had dropped off the white lily and why she had acted like she didn’t remember its meaning. Perhaps she really didn’t remember, but that raised its own questions in Athena's taxed mind.
At the moment, though, still trying to get the cute and indecisive vibrator debater to understand why such items couldn’t be returned, Athena could only manage a small smile and nod to Jules. The redhead reciprocated, smiling that sweet smile of hers and causing a memory of the lovely young woman who had been Athena's best friend to flash in her mind. Athena noticed out of the corner of her eye the gym bag looked fuller than normal. She must have forgotten to empty it, she thought.
Athena had to lose track of her onetime friend and tormenter to finally process return chick’s purchase. As she started the next transaction, a simple condom run by a handsome young man, she looked to see what Jules was looking at this time in the BDSM area, but to her surprise, and maybe disappointment, though she wouldn’t admit it, the redhead was not there. Focusing back on the simple purchase, Athena deftly and professionally sidestepped a pass that the good-looking young man made at her. Wrong tree friend, she thought.
Looking past the balding middle-aged businessman next in line, Athena scanned the chaotic store and saw the sexy redhead she needed to talk to looking at lingerie. The pair she had in hand was nice enough, but wouldn’t do her toned legs any justice Athena thought as she had to turn back to the customer who had asked a surprisingly thoughtful question about the two toys he was debating over as a surprise for his wife. Athena focused on work, happy to help someone in genuine need of guidance for a sweet purpose. The man was out of his depth, but listened intently as Athena detailed the finer points of the two options he had picked out. Ultimately, in talking with him, the two of them decided on a third item that he had to go back and get.
Looking quickly before the next customer stepped up, Athena didn’t see Jules in the lingerie section. Instead, she noticed she was by one of the dressing rooms. She was just standing there staring with those flawlessly bright emerald eyes at Athena with a wide smile. She held up a far more fitting set of lingerie and pointed to it and then to the dressing room. It was all a bit goofy, yet somehow erotic to Athena, who could only choke back a laugh as she gave a thumbs up. Jules disappeared into the fitting room with an exaggerated flourish. Athena shaking her head as she checked out her next customer.
More and more customers kept lining up to buy items, and soon Athena could do little other than focus on her work. The last hour passed in a whirlwind. By the time she made her last sale, it was twenty minutes past closing. It had been a mad rush at the end, and Athena could only sigh in relief as she turned the deadbolt on the door after ushering out the last customer. A heavy breath had hardly passed her lips when it dawned on Athena that she never saw Jules leave the fitting room, much less leave on the night. She couldn’t still be in there, could she? Athena asked herself.
Crossing the store toward the fitting rooms, Athena called out to her erstwhile friend and enemy. “Hey, Jules, are you still in there? Sorry to bother you, but it’s past closing.” There wasn’t a response. Athena wondered if Juliette had slipped out without saying anything to her, but there was this weird tension in her chest telling her to check the room. As she approached, she heard muffled noises from the other side of the flimsy door. Athena tried again to call out to Jules, but for some reason her mouth felt dry and full of cotton. Finally, she willed her words forth, “Jules, it’s closing time. Can you hurry up?”
She cringed at how gruff it had sounded. Why did she say it that way? She should let Jules take her time. After all, what was the harm? It would take her a while to clean and restock the store, anyway. Logically, it made sense. It wasn’t like it would cause any harm, but something urged Athena to press the issue.
It was probably the fact that Jules wasn’t responding that really worried the goth clerk. She knocked on the door and instantly realized it wasn’t secure. Had someone walked in on Jules? Was someone keeping her from responding? Did she need help? Had she had a medical emergency or something? The new questions came fast to Athena’s spiraling mind. She had to be sure her redhead was safe.
“Jules you, okay?” Still no response. “Okay, I’m coming in now.” And with that, Athena pushed the door open gingerly, expecting to see an unconscious Jules, or perhaps worse. Instead, the image that greeted her caused Athena to stop mid-step. She had visualized finding a range of possibilities on the other side of the door, but none had really captured the vignette she was treated to.
Jules was indeed still in the fitting room. Her workout clothes neatly folded under the bench on one side of the small space, and the lingerie on a hanger by one mirror. To Athena’s surprise though, Jules was sitting on her legs in the center of the room, fidgeting slightly. Jules's position would have been odd enough to surprise the goth, but what really stopped her dead in her tracks was the state her onetime friend and crush was in.
The redhead was adorned in an assortment of bondage gear. Familiar green bands of leather encircled the woman’s toned thighs and cute ankles. Each connected with a short golden chain and padlocked. They were from Jules’s first purchase weeks before. Her knees were set as wide as the restraints would allow, which really wasn't much, but it did leave her neatly trimmed pussy nicely exposed. Letting her gaze rise, Athena then took in the matching green corset, another late-night purchase, wrapped around the woman’s midsection and pushing up her beautiful freckled chest. A chest that Athena saw was decorated with the vicious clover clamps from the night Jules asked about one of Athena’s books. They were now connected by a thick chain with three heavy metal weights swaying faintly below.
Around her neck was a thick green colored posture collar with white letters stitched on it. Athena flushed, stepping closer to read the words, even having to read them a second time for them to actually register. They indeed said “Property of Athena Blake.” What was that supposed to mean? The bondage didn’t end there, though. The matching leather sensory deprivation hood, again in green, was tightly laced on.
It clung tightly to Jules’s head, leaving a clear outline of the beautiful features below. A braided ponytail jutted up and out of the hood through a reinforced tube. And bare lips wrapped around a massive dark green silicone ball gag, saliva dripping from her stuffed mouth. Astonished at the sight, Athena unconsciously started circling the bound woman.
The most impressive thing to the setup, though, was that Jules had somehow pulled on and zipped up a monoglove armbinder that reached nearly to her shoulders. Again made of matching green leather. It was all a breathtaking and well-coordinated sight out of Athena’s wildest dreams. As her mind finally processed the image before her, Athena tried several times to find words, but nothing could coalesce. For her part, Jules remained silent in her prostration except for the heavy breaths forced through the small holes near her nostrils.
Eventually, the shock finally wore off for Athena and in its place, a swirling set of emotions churned in her mind and soul. She was aroused by the sight, certainly. A fantasy long held, now seemingly real. She was flattered on some level that this appeared to be explicitly for her. Those emotions, though, were battered back by a seething rage. How could she pull a stunt like this after so many years of pain, neglect, and simple, deafening silence?
This had to be some fucked up joke gone too far. For fuck's sake, Jules wasn’t even a lesbian! Right? Maybe…Athena started to think, but quickly shook her head. Perplexed and needing answers, she went to remove the jaw achingly large ball gag silencing the woman, only to realize it, the hood, and the posture collar were also padlocked on like the thigh and ankle restraints. Looking about quickly, she saw a ring of small keys resting on a surprisingly thick stack of papers laying on the bench in the fitting room.
She quickly retrieved the keys, but paused for a moment, staring down at the papers. They were handwritten notes in an all too well-known chicken scratch, Jules's. For the briefest of seconds, Athena had to stifle a small laugh as she thought, how does such a talented artist have such shit handwriting? She would have left the papers alone, except she read the first words 'Dear Atty,...'
It appeared the stack was for her eyes. Anger roiled inside her. Why the fuck should she care what this spoiled princess and betrayer had to say? Did this bitch think some bondage, sexy as fuck as it was, and an 'I'm sorry letter' would mend all the years of past wrongs? She glared over at Jules, who had remained silent and mostly still since her arrival. She can go fuck herself, Athena thought. And yet...that damn lily. She picked up the hefty stack, telling herself she'd read a few lines out of morbid curiosity, meanwhile she tried to ignore the flutter in her chest and the feelings it signaled.
As she started to read, she thought she'd skim it a bit to confirm her expectations that it was some hollow, pathetic attempt at an insincere apology or something worse. The words did indeed include an apology, but it was so much more than that. It was an outpouring of the deepest sort. A genuine confession of remorse for everything...and Athena meant everything. She slumped down on the small bench in the changing room; her knees having failed, she read the words Jules wrote with her own hand. She’d admitted each and every wrong, and even some Athena had forgotten or never even considered. She wanted to believe the words were insincere, but the raw familiar voice of Jules's innermost writing was unmistakable even after so many years. She admitted so much about how she had known about the bullying by her fake friends, but how that had fed into a preposterous plan she had concocted when they were 17.
Jules claimed she shut Athena out not to spite or hurt her, but to try to shield her. Athena wanted to call bullshit on that, but the explanation of ‘the plan’ as Jules called it lined up too perfectly with how the redhead had always crafted overly elaborate schemes. After her parents had banned Athena from her life and after the goth had become a target at school, Jules had come up with an insane plot to ensure their future together. Jules asserted that if they stayed friends, their classmates would intensify their attacks to drive Athena away, making the goth’s life even more miserable. Athena, for her part, wasn't so sure it could have been worse than it got, but she also wouldn't have been surprised. High schoolers could be vicious.
More than that though, to make their childhood promise of a future together reality, Jules claimed she knew she'd have to be fully self-sufficient since her wealthy parents would have zero qualms about shutting her out for associating with a lesbian. Athena agreed with the assessment. Of course, Athena felt conflicted. It was oddly selfish and vain of Jules to let being poor stand in the way of their friendship, but then came the real bombshell.
As Jules elaborated unnecessarily about how she had developed a scheme to establish her own successful business, completely disconnected economically from her parents, an ambitious endeavor, she explained the reason for seeking this autonomy and prosperity. Jules wanted to provide everything for the one person she loved beyond all else, her soulmate as she wrote it, and that person was and had always been Athena. Wait, Jules...did she really write that she loves me? Athena thought, looking up again to the patiently waiting bound woman. Apparently, Jules had fallen in love with her even earlier than the goth had recognized her own feelings. Then why hide it? Athena wondered.
As she continued to read, Jules explained that the only way her mind saw to the future they dreamed of for themselves, especially where they could be openly in love, would require Jules to harden her heart for a time so she could use her family's wealth to start up her business, and thus she had to distance herself from Athena to not raise their ire or suspicions. Jules also justified it by writing that she thought it would be easier to let Athena, who had always worn her emotions on her sleeves, hate her rather than to torture her with the possibility of more before Jules knew she could actually deliver on it. Oh, Jules, you sweet misguided soul, Athena thought.
The goth, reading the intricate plan, the confession of love, and the lengths Jules had gone to for them to be together, broke down. Yet again Jules had found a way to make Athena feel so many things at once. There was disbelief that any of this was real. Flaming anger at Jules for having such a ridiculous reason for causing so much pain. She felt bitter and betrayed all over again at being left out of Jules's plan like some delicate flower or child. And she felt sadness at what could, or rather, should have been if Jules had just shared everything with her. There was this weird bittersweet pride and joy too that Jules would go to such lengths just for her. And last, there was that bane of Athena's life, happiness and a hope for the future that tormented her usually pessimistic black soul.
She felt all of this in one maelstrom of experience. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, though for the life of her she couldn't tell if it was from the anger, sadness, joy, or perhaps all the above. She wanted to stop crying, but it was all too much, and crying soon turned to loud, ugly sobbing.
It was then that the other person in the room, the one tightly bound and responsible for all of this, finally stirred. Hearing Athena's distress, the leather clad bondagette started calling out to Athena; the words were muffled into unintelligible noises that were an odd mix of distressed concern and soothing reassurance. The goth couldn’t stop, though, pulling her knees up to her chest and weeping uncontrollably into the black fabric. She couldn’t get small enough in the moment, and she would have remained there trying, but for a loud thud and a pained, if garbled, cry. Her head shot upright immediately, seeing that Jules was sprawled out on the floor. It looked as if she had tried to stand and reach Athena, only to fall flat in the attempt.
Athena's internal turmoil and agony vanished in that instant. She rushed to cradle her clumsy friend. Her arms closed around Jules, pulling her in tight. She was soft and warm and smelt of leather and…cinnamon? You tricky bitch, Athena mused wryly at how Jules had even made herself smell like Athena's favorite scent. A fresh wave of tears cascaded down as the goth stroked the side of Jules's leather-bound face, whispering, "It'll be okay....it'll be okay...it'll be okay." She honestly didn't know if the words were for Jules or for herself.
Eventually, Athena recovered enough to set Jules back up in a sitting position. The green gagged redhead continued to desperately try to say something through her gag, but to no avail. Athena silenced the muffled words by setting a finger on Jules's gagged lips, saying, "Shhhhh... I'm going to unlock the gag now. I think we have a lot to discuss." Jules remained quiet as Athena reached for the padlock holding the gag in place. Athena still wasn't fully sure of how she felt or what she would say to the redhead, but she was about to find out.