Chapter 1

I should never have started going out with them. I mean sure they were fun, but I should have known what would happen. I should have known something was different about them. I mean they dressed like lesbians but there was no way to tell. I probably could never have guessed that this is what would happen to me. Perhaps I should go back a little bit. They really weren’t the type of people I had used to be friends with. I usually hung out with other 20 year olds like myself. I was a sexy brunette who used to work a day job as a waiter for the diner in the downtown district. I had good friends, and when it came to sex I wasn’t a prude. Sure I experimented a few times but, who hasn’t? I was always able to pick up hot guys, they were attracted to me. But I just wasn’t into that fetish stuff. It just was to far out there for me, I was fine just having sex. But that all changed one day. It started when this new women was made hostess. Sure it was the job that I was shooting for but I didn’t have any hard feelings, so I decided I should greet her like a friend. She was older maybe thirty something. She wasn’t a thing of conventional beauty, but she wore herself with such confidence, I just couldn’t help to be jealous. I saw why they might want her to be a waitress. Her hair was cropped just below the ears and she wore it in a short pony tail. She was short but she had a very full figure. She also wore a bright smile and greeted me with a bubbly, “Hey hot stuff!” Sure this set me off a tick, but I wasn’t to upset over her greeting. It was just the way people talked nowadays. So I replied to her, “Back at’cha.” She asked me what my job was and I told her I was a waitress. We got around to talking and she told me that if I wanted I could go with her to the bar that Friday night with some of her friends. I told her it sounded fun but that I was studying at night school and that I just didn’t have the time that week. She said that she didn’t mind and that maybe I could see them the next week, because they went out every week, and I told her that I would if I got the time off. I should never have said I would.

That week me and Miranda, because that was what I learned her name was, always chatted and spoke about how annoying the job always was, and how the dress code for the women were always so revealing and how the men always got the better deal. We really talked about this a lot and she really got me angry about it. It really always had made me angry, I just hadn’t realized it until then. So when the weekend came I missed not being able to see Miranda for another week. I always had so much fun when I was around her. But I wasn’t that worked up because I knew that I just needed to relieve some tension, so I called the guy I had been dating for a while, Jack, that I really needed him. He came over and then we did it, but after sex I just didn’t feel that satisfied. He asked me, “What’s the matter babe?” and it just irritated me so much. Why did he feel like I had a problem just because I wasn’t very satisfied after banging him. I just sort of blew up in his face and he told me that if I was going to be such a bitch about things that maybe we should stop seeing each other. So I told him to get his fat, piggish ass out of my apartment. After that I just went to bed and cried.

The next week I found myself hanging on to Miranda’s words like they were the only thing in the world that mattered. It was as if she had a power or a control over me. I couldn’t figure it out, but then again I didn’t really want to. The first thing that I told her was that I had broken up with my boyfriend. But she was able to comfort me and reassured me that it was just because he was an inconsiderate man. The next thing I knew I was in her arms bawling even though she was a good few inches shorter than me, I came to her as if she was my mother and I was just the sad little girl who had had her feelings hurt. She comforted me and I grew closer to her. I started imitating her mannerisms because I felt so certain that she knew exactly what to do in every situation. If she talked to a customer in a certain I talked to that customer in the same tone. Near the middle of the week I started styling my hair back in a ponytail instead of usually letting it flow back. I also started agreeing with Miranda more and more. If she felt that if something was unjust in the world, so did I. So we talked and talked, and by the end of the week, I was closer with her than almost anyone else I had ever known. So as I was leaving at the end of my shift on Friday, I was surprised to hear Miranda asking me to make sure that I would stop by her place before they went out that evening. I felt so bad that I had forgotten. In fact I felt so bad that I just had to tell her that I had forgotten. But she just smiled at me with her confident and reassuring smile that it wasn’t a problem, but that maybe next time it would be better to remember what she said. I made sure to promise her that, and told her that I would meet her around 11:00.

So I went home and decided that I really needed to look my best that night. So I put on a tight shirt and a nice short little skirt. I then felt that worried that I didn’t look the right way. Miranda had always told me how much she hated the way that women would degrade their appearance just so that men would find them more attractive. So I decided to put on a pair of jeans and made sure to wear a coat over my shirt. I also made certain that my hair was done up just right. I figured that I should try to wear my hair like Miranda’s, but I didn’t want her friends taking me for a suck-up. So I decided that maybe I would just tie it up in back but make sure that I left some bangs hanging out in the front. After I was done I realized that I had been doing this for almost two hours. I never spent that long getting ready to go out to the bar on just any old night. But then I reminded myself that this wasn’t just any old night. I was going to meet Miranda’s friends, and anybody who was special to Miranda was special to me.

That night I drove over to Miranda’s house. She was dressed up and had added some colorings to her hair. She looked marvelous, and I felt like I couldn’t even begin to compare. But then she came up to me and said, “Well, don’t you look wonderful tonight,” Oh that made me feel so good to hear that from her. I replied to her that she too looked amazing. “Oh, I know dear, but come on lets take my car,” she said, “I’ll drive, I just can’t stand being a back seat driver.” “Oh of course Miranda,” I said, “I wouldn’t think of anything else.” So we got in the car and drove down to the downtown. Then we took a little back alley route and we came just outside a small night club I had never been to before. We got out of the car and were quickly greeted by Miranda’s friends. I think it was Annette who first said, “Well hello Miranda, and hello, you must be Joy, Miranda has told us a lot about you.” I smiled and felt good. They already knew my name. I said hello to everyone. They were all very different. There was Annette who was almost as outgoing as Miranda. There was Parvati, who reminded me a little bit of Marilyn Monroe, but taller. And there was Susan, who was definitely the oldest of the group. They all welcomed me into their group and told me that they had gotten their special table in the back of the bar that night. I felt so happy. They had already accepted me and had even invited to their special table that night. Miranda led the group in and we dropped in quickly. The bar was not crowded but there was a current in the room. It felt powerful and it felt like it was about to sweep me off my feet. But we quickly passed through and went into what must have been the real club, because it was much louder and there were people everywhere. I didn’t really take the time to look at them but they all seemed so alive. It was then that Miranda led us to the table and we sat down. 

Parvati was the first to speak, “Now Joy, there is something we have to tell you,” I was worried, what was wrong did I do something wrong, were they going to tell me that they didn’t really want me here? “Yes dear, we have something of a tradition here,” said Susan. I looked to Miranda for reassurance and gave me a sweet little smile. I was ready. “Now every time we add a new person to the group they have to, ahh, pass a right of initiation,” said Susan. Annette took over, “We always have the newcomers try to see if they can handle Big Bertha.” “What’s Big Bertha?” I asked. Miranda put her had on mine and told me “Big Bertha is the strongest drink they make here,” “It’s a special Margarita with a secret mix that only the manager of this bar knows,” said Parvati. “Luckily enough, we have a good deal with her and she always makes it for us whenever we please.” I was nervous, I knew I didn’t have a high tolerance for alcohol, but I didn’t want to let Miranda down. So I said, “Of course I’ll do it.” “Wonderful,” said Susan. She signaled for the bartender to come over and she whispered in his ear. He left and in a minute he was back with Big Bertha. The drink wasn’t that big, it fit in a regular margarita glass, but it had a yellow tinge to it and it smelled pretty strong. Miranda nodded to me and made a movement that suggested that I drink it. All the others were watching me closely, so I took a sip. It was so strong, it almost didn’t even taste like alcohol, but I knew I had to finish it. So I drank and I drank until every last drop was down. I was tired but happy. Susan looked to me and smiled in such a reassuring way, “Very good sweetie.” But then something was wrong. Spot’s began to flash before my eyes. I heard all my friends congratulating me and comforting me, but I couldn’t move. Everything was going black. The last thing that I heard was Parvati saying, “How come Miranda always gets the cute petite ones?” And then my mind was gone.