MARIEL

8~ The Whore of Illinois ~

"What'd you think of that earthquake today? Good stuff, huh?" Eric Carter grinned. Tapped his fingers rhythmically against the cruiser's passenger door.

As she leisurely paced the cruiser down the street, Tira leaned back in the driver's seat. Her eyes scanned the snowy, dimly lit streets as the car approached the park they had already passed multiple times that evening. "It was interesting, to say the least," she said, quietly. It had been interesting, but not for the reason Eric was thinking.

Tira hadn't been entirely sure how Esther would receive her, but she had not fully expected the fiery banter. Within moments of conversation, most individuals quickly responded to her demand for respect. Esther had not, and it irked her.

It bothered her because subjects who disrespected her usually received some form of physical punishment, or at least the threat of it. For obvious reasons, Esther could and would not be that subject, no matter how much she annoyed Tira.

Esther had angered her, and had even embarrassed her. But, something else had maddened Tira to an even greater extent.

When Agent 4 had left the store, she had felt flustered. Humiliated. Weak. As if that hadn't been confounding enough, she had also recognized another feeling. A sensation that Tira did not understand in this situation, nor welcome.

Arousal.

Objectively, Tira knew she was attracted to the annoying subject. In the past, the agent had even experienced the uncontrollable sensations when, unintentionally, she had heard Esther's self-induced moans and sighs from the bluetooth speakers in her room. However, this felt different. Confusing. In the bookstore, Tira felt as if -

- the subject... must refer to her as the subject -

- Esther had entered her head, and had ignited every neuron in her brain associated with both anger and desire.

Tira could not stand the subject. And yet, she was impatient to see her again. It was perplexing. Maddening. More importantly, it was absolutely unacceptable.

Before her shift, Tira had pounded the heavy bag, growing more and more enraged as the seconds passed, beating the bag, slamming it to the floor, grappling, kneeing, punching, and elbowing it until her body bruised. Until her skin dripped sweat. Then, she went to the swimming pool. The agent hated the pool. Hated the water.

However, just as she punished those who disrespected her, Agent 4 punished her own body. The feelings she had allowed herself to experience were a form of self- disrespect, and she needed discipline. So, as her lip curled in distaste, Tira dove into the deepest end of the blue pool and lowered herself to the bottom. In the water, her blonde hair waved smoothly around her face. It was there Agent 4 remained until the desire to ascend came to her. Even so, she remained at the bottom. When the panic arose, and the desire to breathe intensified -

- the breaking point -

- she started the timer on the watch. Waited. Cursed herself. Saw the figure of the lifeguard leaning over the surface of the rippling water. Swore to herself that the lifeguard would mysteriously drown should he interrupt her self-inflicted punishment. Felt her lungs burning.

As the stopwatch reached zero, and she felt certain that she would pass out, Tira swam to the surface. As she ascended, her once muddled thoughts had simplified. Now, she merely desired air in her lungs.

Nevertheless, as she gasped and clung to the cement surface of the pool, and the lifeguard had demanded to know 'what the hell she had been doing', Tira could not get -

- the subject's -

- Esther's mischievous smile and inviting eyes from her memory. At that moment, Tira realized she had nearly drowned herself for no reason and she was, with no better way of articulating the matter, fucked.