I stared at Mrs. Chen, my whole body trembling. The shameful panties felt like they were burning against my skin, a constant reminder of what I’d just done—of how my body had responded to her instructions.
“Go now,” she said, her tone dismissive. “Your husband is waiting.”
I gathered my clothes with shaking hands and dressed as quickly as I could, my fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers. The obscene underwear made itself felt with every movement, the strings moving strangely on the backs of my thighs, my bottom completely bare beneath my slip and my modest skirt.
I fled from her office without another word, practically running down the hallway and out into the parking lot. My car sat in the bright afternoon sun, and I climbed inside, gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands.
I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t face my parents like this, couldn’t wait for Chris to arrive and?—
My mind spiraled. What would he do about my having gone to see Mrs. Chen? What would she tell him about my behavior? And these panties—he would make me show him, make me display myself, make me?—
I started the engine, but instead of turning toward my parents’ house, I found myself driving in the opposite direction. Toward Megan’s house.
Megan would understand. She was my closest friend, practically my sister. She’d been through all of this before with Mark. She would know what to do.
Ten minutes later I pulled into her driveway, relief flooding through me when I saw her car. I ran to the front door and knocked frantically.
“Valerie?” Megan opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise. “What’s wrong? You look?—”
“Can I come in?” My voice broke. “Please, I need to talk to you.”
She pulled me inside immediately, her arm around my shoulders. “Of course. Come sit down. What happened?”
I collapsed onto her couch and it all came pouring out—everything. The honeymoon, the things Chris had made me do, my terror about being taken by him. The visit to Mrs. Chen’s office. The tutorial. The vibrator. The panties I was wearing right now.
Megan listened without interrupting, her face growing more concerned with each word. When I finally fell silent, she took my hands in hers.
“Oh, Val,” she whispered. “I know how hard this is. I remember. Mark was very strict with me in the bedroom—I needed it, but it was embarrassing at first.”
“I can’t go back there,” I sobbed. “I can’t face Chris. Not today. Not yet.”
Megan bit her lip, clearly conflicted. “Mark is going to be upset if he finds out I didn’t send you home. But you’re like my sister. I can’t just—” She squeezed my hands. “You can stay here. We’ll figure something out.”
“Really?” Hope bloomed in my chest. “You mean it?”
“I know I’ll get in trouble for it,” she said quietly. “But yes. You can stay until we work out a solution.”
I threw my arms around her, sobbing with relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
We sat together on the couch, Megan holding me while I cried. She made tea and brought me tissues and didn’t ask me toexplain anything more. For the first time since my wedding night, I felt safe.
But that feeling shattered two hours later when we heard the front door open.
“Megan?” Mark’s deep voice called out. “I’m home.”
Megan’s face went pale. She looked at me with something like fear in her eyes. “Stay here,” she whispered, standing up.
I heard their voices in the entryway—Megan’s soft and apologetic, Mark’s growing harder with each word. My stomach clenched with dread.
Then Mark appeared in the doorway of the living room, his expression thunderous. Megan stood behind him, wringing her hands.
“Valerie,” he said, his voice cold. “Your husband has been looking for you. He’s frantic with worry.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I just needed time?—”
“Megan should have sent you home immediately,” Mark interrupted. “Or at least called Chris to let him know where you were.” His eyes moved to his wife. “Instead, she chose to harbor you here, knowing it would cause problems.”
“Mark, please,” Megan said softly. “She’s like my sister. She was upset?—”
