Obviously, I never experienced sexual encounters with a woman during my high school years. It wasn't until halfway through my first week in the dorms at college that I lost my virginity. That was to my 'out and proud' lesbian roommate. Of course, my parents were completely disgusted with the fact that I had a 'perverted heathen' as a roommate, but I told them that we were chosen at random, and I couldn't do anything about it. Lynn was more than just a bit put off by their comments, and she pretty much ignored me for the first three days. It wasn't until Wednesday evening that I sat her down and made her listen to me. It was a long conversation that didn't end until 3:00 AM Thursday morning.
Well, maybe that depends on what you actually define as a conversation. The part concerning 'I don't agree with my parents, but I had to pretend so they wouldn't figure out I'm also gay' ended about four minutes, 32 seconds after it started. The part of the conversation consisting of, 'OHMYGOD! DON'T STOP! YES, YES, YES, RIGHT THERE!' And, of course, the ever popular 'FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARDER'. Finally ended when we both passed out from exhaustion around the previously mentioned early morning hour. Thankfully, neither of us had classes until the afternoon on Thursday.
Lynn grew up in Colorado Springs, with is a bastion of liberal thought. The gay lifestyle there is much more tolerated, and she had the opportunity to experience that. She was well-versed in the sapphic bedroom (living room, bathroom, dining room, etc,) activities. She gave me a graduate lever course in lesbian love over our first semester. Not only that, but college is a place to learn and expand your education. There are a lot of lab courses where you run experiments on what you learn in lectures. Take Chemistry, Physics, and most other science courses. Most of those also have a lab class attached to them. Well, with me being new to lesbian sex, we also did a lot of experimenting. Of course, that included purchasing 'Lab Supplies'. Yes, I lost my virginity to my roommate's strap-on.
Over the next four years, I had several female lovers. Yes, Lynn and I continued to get together, but neither one of us was ready to settle down. I managed to keep my sexuality hidden from my parents all through college. Over summer and winter breaks, I dutifully dated the occasional boy that my parents set me up with. All they ever got was a pack on the cheek at the end of the night and some handholding throughout the evening.
My major in college was Language. I loved learning different languages, and I had hoped to become a translator after college. During my senior year, I applied to the FBI. I figured that would be a good career, and I could also help put criminals away. I should probably mention here that I also minored in Criminal Justice. The FBI didn't even hesitate. By that time, I spoke seven different languages, so I could translate over a broad range of suspects. I could even read and write in several languages, including Chinese and Arabic, Thant made me valuable in translating documents recovered during searches.
All recruits are required to go through the Academy. As I mentioned earlier, I grew up in a smack town where the main entertainment is hunting, fishing, and camping. Also, I had three brothers and a small army of cousins. No, you perverts, there was nothing inappropriate going on. You may remember that I mentioned that I was a virgin when I went to college. What did happen was that I grew up to be a tomboy. I was always out in the woods roughhousing with my brothers and relatives. I got pretty damned good at defending myself while we were wrestling and fighting.
I think that I was pretty much the only one surprised during graduation when I was named the Honor Graduate. Normally, the Honor Graduate gets their pick of assignments. That's usually because they tend to pick becoming a field agent or something along those lines. When I picked Translator, I was overruled. It was determined that my skills would be better suited (or, at least more valuable) for working in the field. Thus, I was sent to the Denver office as a Junior Field agent.
So, I spent the next several years toiling as first a junior agent, then quickly moving up the ladder until I became Special Agent Smithers. At least I was being brought into interviews when translation was needed. In fact, now it was just me conducting the interviews instead of just translating while another more senior agent actually was asking the questions. I was up for the next promotion to Senior Special agent when all hell broke loose.
Ingrid:
I drove my cousin back to his house and unloaded all of the Asshole's collectables. Before we left, I broke a window in the back of the house, and we threw a bunch of stuff around each room to stage it like a break-in. Yeah, no one was going to believe that, but there are two important things to remember in court: Reasonable doubt and plausible deniability. On the miniscule chance that he ever found me again, he couldn't prove that it wasn't a break-in.
It took me a week to get to the ranch. That was because I was taking back roads, changing directions, backtracking, and doing everything I could to avoid revealing my ultimate destination. I stayed on the back roads and off the main highways. I paid for everything through the foreign corporation that Grandpa had established, and I had inherited. The actual ownership of the corporation was so hidden in trust funds and shell companies that it would take decades to find the true ownership.
I finally made it to the ranch. I was welcomed by the Mexican family that had previously owned the ranch. I had hired them to manage the property. As part of the purchase, I gave them a nice salary and free use of the property, including allowing them to stay in the home. After all, I wasn't planning on using it. Yes, they were legal residents. I hired them to manage the ranch because I didn't want it to look abandoned. Also, I didn't want any of the neighbors to start to encroach on the property. I needed it to be maintained and lived in to ensure that I could come and go as I pleased without anyone sneaking onto the property and discovering my secret. I made sure that they were well paid to begin with, and that they would receive a good percentage of any money that was made from working the ranch.
I parked my truck in the outbuildings that held all my supplies. The next morning, I would pack everything up and head out deep into the Rocky Mountains. Once a year, in the spring, they would butcher a steer and save me the meat. On my next trip down, we would smoke most of it. It would be a pleasant change from the lean change from my usual fish and wild game that I would be eating over the rest of the year. They also set up a large garden that would give me fresh and canned vegetables.
I packed up the horses the next morning and set off up into the mountains. It took me a week to get to the cabin. Nights were spent camping near streams and rivers. We got to the cabin, and I led the horses up the narrow path to the cabin and unloaded them. There was a lean-to down beside a small meadow beside the river that the horses could stay in for shelter. I hobbled them in the meadow as I strung up a quick fence to keep them from wandering off. I would build a sturdier fence in the weeks to come.
I cleaned out the cabin, then began the process of unpacking and putting everything I had brought away. Thankfully, there was a pile of firewood remaining from the last time that the cabin was used. There was no wood-fired stove, but the large fireplace had grills and hooks that were made for cooking. A wood-fired stove was just too heavy and bulky to bring up here on a pack horse. A couple of years later, I would have that and a few other items delivered by a chartered helicopter. More on that later.
The first two years were rough. I'm not gonna lie about that. I was up in the mountains alone with no modern conveniences. It was like living in the 1700's again. At least there were enough older fallen trees and large branches that I could gather to ensure that I had enough firewood to cook with and keep the cabin warm. The high valley was lush with grass and other foliage, so game was plentiful. I didn't really need much at that time, so I never really had to travel far to hunt. Still, there were a lot of things to do. I had to build a fenced in area to keep my horses from wandering off, yet still have plenty of grass to graze on. I needed to cut enough hay to keep the horses fed over the winter. I needed to do some significant work on the cabin. I needed to cut enough firewood to last until spring when the snow began to melt. On top of all that, there were several more trips back to the ranch to pick up more supplies, as well as hunting and fishing. I needed to build a smoking pit to preserve enough meat to last the winter. I was working 10-to-12-hour days with very little time to relax.
Yes, it was hard work, but it did help in a couple of ways. First off, it kept me from thinking about the asshole and all my backstabbing 'friends'. Second, it got me into the best shape of my life. Third, it wore me out enough that I was able to sleep peacefully through the night. All in all, even though it was extremely hard work, it was very therapeutic. When Spring came after my first winter, I splurged and bought a satellite dish. For an internet connection. I have to admit that I spent a few hours in the evenings on the internet reading about the havoc I wreaked on my husband and my former friends. I didn't bother to hide the fact that I sent and posted all the information. I actually wanted all of them to know that I caused all their pain and misery. I even wrote a few of them emails to let them know it was me, and that I was laughing at them. Of course, I also included why I did it as well. Good luck finding me to get any retribution. I even got several responses back. A couple expressed regret and apologies. A couple more were mad but understood why I did it. Those even gave me updates about the current status on everyone that they knew about. Most promised vengeance on me for destroying their lives.
