Chapter Fourteen
After learning the secret of teleportation, Claire ports back to her friend's doorstep. The three of us remaining order pizza for dinner. Gabi lets loose a spectacular belch, kicking off a classic ladylike belching contest, but neither Bea nor I have a shot at the title. Following dinner and the champion's belt presentation ceremony--Bea summoned a belt for the occasion--complete with the national anthem--Miley Cyrus's
Party in the U.S.A.
--we cuddle through an obligatory sapphic viewing of Mean Girls, passing the bowl of popcorn back and forth.
Gabi in the middle this time, we lie on our backs, shoulder-to-bare-shoulder in Beatrix's bed. Too giddy with NRE to sleep, Bea prompts a chat about our expectations and relational boundaries.
Gabi responds first. She clearly has given this some thought having had time for the idea of a throuple to simmer before the other two of us knew she was bi. "I think I want there to be four relationships: one between each pair of us--Gabah, Saratrix, and Beabrielle"--she pauses--"'kay, I admit the names need work--and one relationship between the three of us as a group. We'll see where it goes, but I envision our throuple relationship to be more fun than romantic. That way we can define each of our pair relationships how we, as each specific couple, want to."
I nod my agreement. It's as good as a wink in the blindness of the dark room. "That sounds good."
"Should our relationship be open?" Bea asks. When neither of us speak, she asks me specifically for my opinion.
"I think I'd be content with just one of you. With relationships with both of you, I don't think I'd have time or energy to be with another person. And if today is any indication, I doubt I'll want for affection."
"I agree with Sarah," Gabi adds. "I might miss dick from time to time, but I imagine a girl can make do with a double-ended dildo and a good vibrator." It's a little unnerving to hear such talk in her Southern twang; it makes me smirk. "What about you, Beatrix?"
"Yeah, I was thinking along similar lines. So a closed relationship works for you two?" We both agree. "What happens if one of our couples doesn't work out? Obviously, I hope that never happens, but realistically, it probably will."
"I vote we cross that bridge when we get to it, and not worry about it until then," I say.
"That works," Gabi says. When Bea remains silent, Gabi asks, "Beatrix?"
"I-- no, you're right. I just worry sometimes. I hope I hide it well, but I get anxious without contingency plans in place." She's right; she hides it well enough that I am surprised by the new information.
"Would it help if we had a tentative plan in place?" I suggest. "What if we say that, at least for now, we're all willing to open up the relationship should one of our individual relationships end, and when and if it does happen, we can revisit this conversation?"
Bea is silent for a moment. "Honestly, Love, no, that doesn't help. That's about as reliable as Social Security--it would be great if it's still in place when we're older, but it doesn't put my mind at ease since it could fall out from under us at any moment." I'm glad she can't see my grin at her perfect metaphor in the midst of our serious conversation.
"Simile," corrects my mental image of Level 5 Pedantry Beatrix.
I roll my mental eyes at her.
"Analogy,"
I retort, not to be outdone.
"That's fair," Gabi says, pulling me from my internal squabbling. "Well, what if we set Sarah's suggestion in stone? And who knows? If one of our couples does break up while the other two remain intact, it's possible that those two relationships could still be fulfilling enough for the two of us that only have one." She pauses. "I guess that was kind of confusing phrasing, huh? I'm saying, let's pretend Sarah and I break up. It's possible that each of our relationships with you, Beatrix, are enough for both Sarah and me, assuming you're not stretched too thin.
"It's impossible to know ahead of time how things will play out--or would, since this is a hypothetical--but don't lesbians have a habit of staying friends with former girlfriends?" I chuckle. "I hate to fulfill stereotypes, but I'm willing to make an exception for this one. Even odds, whatever happens we'll still be cordial enough to live together, assuming the three of us eventually do move in together. I ... know that's thinking a bit ahead, but this whole conversation is thinking ahead."
"Sarah," Beatrix asks, "can you agree to that?"
My knee-jerk response would be 'yes', but I take a moment to give it its due consideration. "Yes, I think so. At any rate, agreeing to open our relationship in this possible future situation is an insignificant entry fee for what I know will be a life-changing experience. The personal growth I'm sure I'll get out of it more than makes up for the risk that things could get complicated later."
"How ... pragmatic of you," Gabi says. I blush.
I feel Beatrix's muscles relax against my shoulder as she sighs in relief at our agreement. "Thank you, girls." She grabs my arm as I start my compulsive roll out of bed. "
Stop,
" she commands, and I do, though the artificial bashfulness manifests unabated. Gabi snorts her amusement at the inconvenient unyielding force of the trigger phrase.
"Thank you, Mistress," I say, grateful with a tinge of annoyance.
"You are most welcome, my Pet," she chimes teasingly.
Gabi yawns, contagiously prompting the other two of us to yawn.
"I like you, Sarah," Gabi says.
"You give me butterflies, Babs," I say, offering the strongest sentiment I can while remaining honest.
"I like you, Beatrix."
"I like you, too, Gabs."
"I love you, Bea," I say.
"I love you, too, Sarah."
There's a brief lull.
"Well that was tedious," I say.
The other two girls snicker, which turns into all three of us laughing. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought so," Bea says. "I don't know about you girls, but I don't want to count out a hand of Cribbage every time we say goodnight. We'll have to come up with shorthand for when it's all three of us."
With that, we giggle ourselves to sleep.
* * *
We spend the next morning and afternoon getting our asses handed to us in Mario Party by Beatrix, getting our asses handed to us in Mario Kart by Gabi, and handing two girls' their own very fine asses in Smash Bros. Ass-handery abounds.
During a game of Mario Party, Gabi asks, "Do people with your ability call yourselves something? Are you witches and wizards or anything like that?"
"Not really," Bea replies. "There's a thread on the forum about names, but they're all jokes. The best we've come up with is 'dommagician'."
I snort. "How about 'authorcerer'?"
"Encommandtress?" Gabi supplies.
"Ohhh," I groan. "That was terrible." I give her a scowl and a round of applause.
Around 3:00 is when people start returning to the dorms from their weekend trips home. I want to open our room door so people can come by and chat if they want, so I request that my body be de-transformed. Bea Speaks, "
Be natural 90% but keep your vag.
"
"Risky move, Wright, trusting me to keep my pants on like that."
"There would be consequences if you were naughty and took them off," she warns.
"You're not exactly dissuading me here," I note.
"Oh, get a room, you two!" Gabi chides.
"I'm in my room," I retort, "and besides, you know you love it."
I had meant it as a joke, but Gabi blushes and says, "Yeah, I--I do." I arch an intrigued eyebrow, but make no comment.
I open the door and we return to our gaming until Jake swings by to round us up for dinner.
* * *
Chapter 14 Appendix Entry 14.1 â
đČ
Babs đ
Get a room! Or at least a chat room
Bea đŠčđŒââïž
See you two at 4:20 sharp! đœ
đ”
"
đœ
"?
I think.
That's a little unusual for her.
It's Wednesday afternoon. Chem lab was frustrating; I couldn't get the titration to behave. I just got out of Linear Algebra. We're finally getting into material that's new for me--
Go go gadget Eigen vectors!
--which is exciting. Math is one of my second favorite subject after comp sci.
Don't you mean third favorite?
Sarah Prime says.
Your first favorite isn't CS. It's being a simpering fuck doll.
Don't you take that tone with me! But also, yes.
I head back to my room, change into some comfier clothes--my favorite black tank top and sexiest yoga pants--and work on some programming homework.
"You ready to go pick up Beatrix?" Gabi asks.
I glance at the clock. 4:13. "Give me a couple more minutes to finish this thought." I finish up the function I was writing, throw on my jacket, take Gabi's hand, and together we walk to CF104.
* * *
"You're late," Beatrix says.
A burst of intense pleasure rips upwards from my g-spot through to my head causing me to stumble. I had expected some form of punishment--that is, after all, the reason I wanted to finish writing my function--but thought it would be an instantaneous effect like ones prior. I was wrong. After that first intense jolt, a soft, vibrating buzz hovers over my g-spot, making me lightheaded. From Gabi's gasp and semi-watery eyes, I suspect she's receiving similar discipline.
Did she give Beatrix consent to play with her, too?
She must have. Either that, or there's something fundamental to Beatrix's ability that we don't understand yet.
I apologize for our tardiness and take full responsibility. Gabi's demeanor returns to normal, but my back-burner punishment increases slightly. It stays at that maddening level, and I rub my thighs--and the lips between them--together the whole ten minute trek to Nash Hall.
We arrive. Beatrix unlocks and opens the door. She ushers Gabi in, then steps in front of me so I have to enter last. A little jab to remind me of my place relative to hers. As I enter, I feel that wonderful, familiar transformation from masculine to feminine.
The two girls take seats on the bed and watch me, interested, as I walk to them. I rub against their legs, then leap up onto the bed, finding a spot between them where I can nuzzle them both easily.
"You know, I like you two a lot," I purr.
They smile at that.
"How's your day, Gabs?" Bea asks.
"Oh, you know, same ol'. I had a test in French. Pretty sure I'll get a B, maybe a B+ if I'm lucky. What about you?"
"Yep, status quo. I had some fun new ideas for how to torture Sarah, though." Her eyes gain a mischievous glint.
"Oh? Care to share?" I ask.
"Yeah, I think she'll really like them," Bea continues, addressing Gabi. She absently gets up and grabs a laser pointer from her desk, then returns to the bed.
I get excited.
I love this game.
Both girls turn and scooch back to the head and foot of the bed, resting against the wooden support beams. Bea shines the laser on the wall and I eagerly jump to catch it. Who wouldn't? I don't understand how Gabi is so calm.
"Gabi, why aren't you trying to catch the dot with me?" I ask.
"Do I get any teasers about your ideas for Sarah?" Gabi asks.