This is a continuing work of fiction, all names and places are fictional, any relation to any real person or place, real or imagined, is purely accidental.
Sunday morning they woke and Sherri looked into the mirror as she entered the Bathroom and saw what happens when you sweat into makeup and don't wash it off. She gasped and began scrubbing as fast as she could. She used the toilet, put on one of her extremely high cut thong leotards and went downstairs. Robert had coffee going and they poured a cup and entered the exercise room. Robert showed her how to use the Nautilus equipment and the treadmill. He worked on the Stairmaster and the leg press portion of the Nautilus. Sherri worked on a couple of the machines and then tried the Stairmaster and quickly felt the burn of muscles reaching their limit.
She followed him upstairs and took great pleasure in washing him, and then he surprised her again. "Put on some jeans and a shirt you are comfortable in." he told her instead of laying out her clothing. She went and chose clothing that met his requirements after her shower.
Downstairs again, her blood ran cold. The breakfast table had the now common fruits and muffins, but there was also guns on the table.
"OK, since you have quit hiding your face and are dressing attractively, I am concerned that you might be attacked or worse. So I am going to teach you how to defend yourself. First, I'm going to teach you about guns, then we are going to shoot and find one you are comfortable with. Then on Monday, you are going to take a little time and apply for a permit to carry concealed. As an officer of the Court, you are entitled to get one under State Law."
Sherri stared at the guns, she didn't like them, and told him so.
"Sherri, like the items downstairs, they are tools, like any tool, they can be used for good or evil. If someone is trying to kill you, and in St. Louis, it's a real possibility, I want you to have a chance to live. That is all these are, chances to live.
She ate her breakfast unconvinced and dreading the day. "Is this a must do, or do I have a choice in the matter?"
"I won't demand you carry, I will suggest in the strongest terms that you get the permit, but that is your choice too. I will insist you learn basic safety of firearms, and ask that you learn how to shoot." he replied.
Sherri shuddered and said "I really don't like them." she said.
"Sherri, have you ever heard of a Curb Bite?" asked Robert.
"No, what is it?" Sherri answered.
"When the thugs in St. Louis are done beating, or Raping, or Robbing you, they like to position your mouth on the edge of the curb, and then stomp on your head driving your jaws apart and breaking your teeth. Among other things, it usually breaks the jaw, and dislocates it. It has been known to kill a person, the shock, and trauma, and occasionally bone splinter's strike the spinal cord. If you survive, and if you have money, you can spend the next six months to a year getting reconstructive surgery and enduring the pain from that. If you don't have the money, you get whatever the emergency room doctor can manage to wire up." Robert told her.
"I have heard of them breaking jaws, but that? That is barbaric, inhumanly cruel." she said shocked.
"Yes, especially when they have already gotten what they were after, be it money, or your body." said Robert. "Most people never recover from the psychological effects of it."
Sherri thought, could she shoot someone if that was the alternative? "Do I have to shoot someone?"
"Sherri, if you pull a gun on someone, you had better be prepared to use it, and plan on shooting them if you pull it. If you can't shoot someone to save your life, perhaps killing them, then you don't need to carry one." Robert said gently. "I can't make you shoot someone, and God knows I don't want you in that situation, but I can't protect you from everything, despite my best efforts. What I can do is train you to protect yourself. I can teach you how to defend yourself, so you are in control."
"I'm never in control." she said quietly.
"Yes you are, last night, you had the power to stop any time you wanted. If you had snapped your fingers, or moved as if you were going to, everything would have stopped. You have the brakes, and you have the power to stop whenever you wish. That is what those are, brakes to make someone stop, not everyone respects the color Red, or the snapping of a finger." he said with a small smile.
Sherri laughed, she had almost snapped her finger, knowing he would stop immediately, she trusted him with that, why not see what this is about. "OK, I'll try and learn Master." she said.
After breakfast was cleared away, Sherri sat and watched as he described the different weapons before him. There was a cute little pistol, a bigger gun, and a revolver.
"Ok, this is a Glock 19, it holds 15 rounds of 9mm ammo, and is probably a little bulky for you to carry around. The idea is you learn to shoot this and then get this which is a Glock 26," he held up the little gun "which uses the same ammunition, but is smaller and holds only 10 rounds." Robert said. "The Glock 26, which is nicknamed the 'baby Glock' is smaller and more easily concealed. It's not accurate past about 15 yards though, so you have to aim carefully"
He explained the weapons, how they worked, showed her the ammunition, which Sherri thought looked kind of small. Robert explained that the size of the bullet doesn't really matter, the 9mm is faster than the .38 that goes into the revolver. It's where you hit the bad guy that matters. Head or heart, always aim for the center of his chest. Never try for a leg or arm shot. You aren't that good, no one is that good to aim for a limb on a moving target and hit it consistently. If you do hit it, it was luck, nothing more. Don't bet your life on luck.
Robert let her hold the 19, and explained how to use the sights. Line the top of the front sight up with the target, center in the rear sight and squeeze the trigger. Robert showed her the 26 and showed her the laser sight on it. "Put the little red dot where you want the bullet to go. Squeeze the trigger, and you'll be fine. Check the sight out everyday, if it fades, let me know and I'll change the battery on it OK?"
Robert took the guns and some magazines out back to the far end of his yard. Sherri saw he had a mound of dirt and suspected he used it for this purpose. He put up a big target with a big circle on the target. He gave her safety glasses and ear muffs to wear. He loaded a magazine into the Glock 19 and speaking loudly to be heard through the muffs told her to hold it, aim at the target, and squeeze the trigger. No worries, no safety to worry about, just point and shoot.
Sherri pointed and closing her eyes and bracing for the recoil she saw in the movies where the gun jumps for the sky slowly squeezed the trigger. The recoil barely moved the gun, her hand went up about two inches and settled right back down. She frowned and kept her eyes open the next time. Again the gun jumped only two inches and there was little recoil in reality. She turned toward Robert confused. He grabbed the gun and pointed it at the ground.
"Sherri, never point a gun at anything you don't want to destroy." he told her without any anger.
"Sorry Master, I thought it was supposed to jump for the sky is all."
"Hollywood likes to pretend that they do, well in real life people don't fly backwards when the get shot, sometimes they don't even fall down right away. There are guns that kick so hard as to jump towards the sky, I don't own any of those, and wouldn't try and teach you to shoot one." He told her. "Take the gun and try again, keep your eyes open, squeeze the trigger, and try to line the sights up.
Sherri fired the whole magazine and another one after that. It wasn't so bad, kind of noisy, but not what she had expected. By the end of the second magazine, she was hitting the target, not the center of it, but hitting it.
"Good, that is very good." Robert told her.
"Can you shoot?" she asked.
"Yes." he replied.
"Show me." she said next.
Robert moved them back to more than twice the distance she was shooting at. He loaded a fresh magazine into the Glock 19, and then pointed it at the ground. He took one breath and then once perfectly still, brought the pistol up in one fluid motion. The weapon came up and his left hand joined the right on the grip as it came up and he dropped into a crouch, the weapon didn't move at all as he fired round after round into the target. He fired 15 rounds in about 12 seconds she decided. The slide locked back which Sherri remembered belatedly meant the magazine was empty. Robert dropped the magazine from the handle, and stood up.
Sherri and he walked to the target, and now in the center were 15 holes, and it looked like you could cover them with a playing card. She had counted steps, it was 35 steps, maybe 30 yards.
"How do you do that?" she asked.
"Practice, that is all, just practice. That's how you get good at anything, you practice." Robert told her.
She tried the little Glock next and decided she liked it better. It was lighter, and smaller and easier for her to hold. It kicked a bit more, but not much. She said that the red dot from the grip laser sight made it easier for her to shoot, she could just look for the dot and aim from that.
They went inside, and Robert cleaned the guns, even the revolver they hadn't fired.
He loaded two magazines, and handed the 'baby Glock' to Sherri and told her to load the magazine. He then talked her through pulling the slide back and chambering the rounds. "That's your gun now babe, any problems with it, let me know and I'll repair it."
Sherri looked at it, she had never owned a gun, and never really wanted one. It was loaded, the little thing on the side said there was a round in the chamber. Robert was back to finishing up with the other guns. He put the Glock 19 back together, and loaded a magazine into it, but didn't chamber a round.
"Master, what do I do with this?" she asked, still holding it away from her.
"I would put it in your room, and every week or two we will practice with it, and when you are comfortable with it, I hope you will carry it with you. The permit should be no problem, attorneys are one of the few folks who can get a permit to carry." Robert told her.
They spent what was left of the afternoon swimming and chatting. Talking about everything and nothing, and just enjoying the day.
