Ruth gasped an involuntary "No!" when she recogized the small volume I handed to Denise, and the smaller woman glanced up at her.
"Start at the bookmark," I suggested. I had marked the beginning of Ruth's writings about Denise with a slip of paper. Denise began reading, stopping at the end of the first page to stare at Ruth for a moment. Ruth stood there, deeply embarrassed, biting her lip and shifting her weight uncomfortably. Her face was flushed and tense.
Denise read for 20 minutes. As she turned the revealing pages, her breathing began to deepen and a blush crept over her face and neck. Her free hand roamed restlessly from her face, to her neck, to her lap. Finally she finished and slowly closed the book. She darted a look at Ruth, standing uncomfortably, then looked at me for a moment.
Denise got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen where she paused for a moment at the sink, then poured and drank a glass of water. Turning, she motioned me to join her.
"What does this mean?" Denise asked in a low voice.
"She wants you," I said in a low voice. "She desperately wants to do things for you that she could never suggest. She's very anxious to satisfy you."
"Is it a 'slave' thing, like you?" Denise said wonderingly.
"Not really. For some reason she had strong inhibitions against sex with me, but no strong inhibitions against making love with you. She had to give me complete control before she could let herself have sex with me. With you somehow, the barrier isn't her inhibitions, it's your consent."
"But I'm not GAY!" Denise protested.
"Neither is Ruth."
Denise stared up at me, baffled.
"This is crazy!"
"Do you want us to leave?"
Denise gestured "no" impatiently, then was silent for a long time, staring at Ruth standing motionless in the living room, her back to us in the kitchen. I waited patiently.
Then, surprisingly, "Why is she wearing that coat?"
"Because there's nothing underneath," I said, followed by a long pause, "... would you like to see?"
There was an even longer pause.
"Yes," she whispered.