Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 31

Robertson Hall is about some computer geeks in college. The completed story (and some supplemental material) is available as a free PDF and eBook (ePub format) on the author’s site, and a print volume is available at Enjoy!

Chapter 13: Art
[SIZE=3]I woke up around 07:00, having gone to bed early. The dining hall didn’t open until 10:00 on Sunday, so after dilating and a shower, I worked on the developer documentation I had promised for robotics team. I got wrapped up in that, so when The Clan got together at 11:00 I went with the rest of them. Megan wasn’t around to join us, but at breakfast I spotted her eating with some of her other friends.
Keith joined us mid-way through D&D—Tim had put his character on NPC status for the first half of the game—and we completed the first goal of the campaign.

Monday at Robotics team, Kraus, Dale, and I discussed our progress. I supplied the documentation I had promised, but had not completed much else. Dale was struggling with the vision subsystem, but had a meeting with Sandy scheduled, hoping for some insight.
Kraus was the coding king of the week. He had looked over my code, figured out the messaging interfaces, and finished off ‘the consciousness.’ Next, wanting to test it, he created a program that supplied the necessary interfaces, emulating the other components based on data in XML configuration files. He had only set up the vision emulation so far, but the rest were easy compared to that; this meant a large share of testing and debugging could be pre-robot and off-robot. I remembered thinking something like this would be helpful, and expressed my gratitude to Kraus for the huge effort.
I left, feeling happy to be working with Kraus, wondering why Dale was doing the eyesight instead of Kraus, and missing my weekly dose of Roger who had been absent.

Tuesday I ran into Kimmy coming from dinner as I returned to my room after A&P lab. She looked tired. “Still feeling the effects of Friday night?” I asked.
“Uh?” she looked over at me. “Oh…Uh, yeah.” She seemed even more exhausted than she looked.
“Go to sleep early,” I suggested. “Studying when you’re tired is useless. You’re better off with less study time when you’re refreshed, than studying a lot when you’re tired.”
“Thanks,” she nodded.

Thursday morning I slept in ’til 09:00. I gathered my things for a shower, and as had become my ritual, took off my diaper just before I left for the shower. Today, however, after taking it off and starting to roll it up, I suddenly realized I had to pee now! Before I could do more, I felt my bladder let go, and a few ounces of urine squirted out onto the floor. “Shit!”
As I tamped the rug with a few tissues to pick up worst of the leak, it occurred that both awareness and the ability to retain even a few ounces—instead of dribbling continuously—was a sign of returning bladder control. I hopped into the shower in good spirits.

There was a knock on the door Thursday night; Keith answered it because he had to go shift laundry into the dryer anyway. It was Megan, and I was glad to see her—Saturday had been the last time we had spent any time together, and I was beginning to think she was avoiding me. “Hi! How are you? Come in! It’s good to see you,” I set down my book and got up from where I had been studying on the bed.
“It’s good to see you too. Sorry I’ve been…” She ran out of words.
“It’s no problem, I know how it is. I’m busy too.”
She nodded. “Do you know about Coming Out Day?”
“October 11. Coming up on…ah…” I tried to figure out what day it fell on.
“Monday,” she finished for me. “I heard the GLBT Fellowship is doing an awareness raising event at noon in the student union. I’m going to go and show my support. Would you like to go together?”
“Sure. I’ve got class until noon—I’ll meet you there.”
“Great.” She took a deep breath. “How have you been?”
“Busy with classes. Missing you a little. Come, sit, let’s catch up,” I said, patting the bed beside me.
“No, I’ve got some work to do, and I need to get started. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as she left. ‘Maybe she is upset with me about something,’ I thought. I speculated on why until Keith returned from moving laundry, which broke my meditations.

I was dilating shortly before 23:00 when Keith returned again, now with his finished laundry. “Have you seen Kimmy? She looks terrible, like she hasn’t slept in a week.”
“Still?” I filled him in on dancing last week, and her looking exhausted on Tuesday, finishing, “It can’t be dancing anymore. She must be having insomnia or something.”

On Friday I connected to Kraus’s CVS archive, retrieved the source code for his emulator, and made a few portability fixes for the Mac before checking it back into source control. ‘Maybe I should set up a ValOS CVS, too,’ I thought, so I made a note to myself—finding I already had a note to myself about a shell script I was supposed to write to send me reminders.
I also downloaded electronic documentation for the micro-controller we were using, since that would be easier to carry than several tomes.
Megan joined us to dinner, which was nice. When Keith raised the idea of Battlestar, I reminded him that I needed to crash early for Saturday’s road trip. Neither Chris nor Bert were willing to allow it in their room, so it was kiboshed. Instead, we board gamed for an hour before several of us escaped to get some sleep.

Valerie woke me up at 06:00. While I was dilating, I heard a soft knock on the door. It was Jane knocking me up on the way to the shower. “Thanks. Is Megan up?”
“She just went into the bathroom.”
“Great. I’ll be in momentarily.”
I finished dilating and took a shower myself. By the time I was dressing, Jane was at my door again. “Are you coming?”
“I’m getting dressed. I’ll be out in a moment.” I finished dressing, put on my pre-loaded backpack, and locked the door on the way out. Jane rolled her eyes when she saw me lugging Valerie, but didn’t say anything; Megan commented, “You don’t go anywhere without that, do you?”
I shrugged. “Tall woman with a laptop.”
“Huh?” I explained the euphemism, but they still didn’t get it; I guess you need to know a number of transsexuals to understand the stereotype. We met Clarisse and Jake at the dining hall just after 07:00, and after a quick bite we piled into Jake’s minivan and hit the road well before 08:00.
We talked for the first hour or so, touching on school, art, politics, and an assortment of other topics. When we ran out of stuff to talk about, Jake put on David Bowie’s Space Oddity, which I didn’t care for, so I put on headphones, started the soundtrack to Neon Genesis Evangelion, and buried myself in memory management.
Jake wasn’t a bad driver, except when he had taken a call on his mobile; then he was terrible. With gas, lunch, and bathroom stops, we arrived in downtown Cleveland at 12:45. I stuffed Val under the seat, got the purse out of my backpack, transferred one brief into it along with my wallet, and climbed out.

“Sorry about that guys,” apologized Clarisse. “When I looked up the price, I looked up general admission, not the exhibition. But we’ll have entry to the rest of the museum too this way.”
I squinted up at the admission sign. “Is that with college discount?” I asked.
“Discount?” Clarisse turned to look at the sign again.
‘Idiot,’ I thought as I got out my ID. But this was good: the trip would only be $10/head over budget, which was acceptable.

“I think his use of gesture in this piece really brings it to life,” Clarisse babbled on for the latest painting. “And the color gives it a vibrancy, while the value lends it realism. When we compare to the study, you can see…” I tuned her out and admired the painting, then studied the corresponding statue.
Megan came up next to me. “What do you think?” she asked.
“The paintings are good. But I’m all about these sculptures.” She nodded.

“Ooh, now that…” I said as we wandered through the regular collection later in the day. “It’s obviously staged, and I don’t know that the cherub is necessary, but…” I looked at the piece’s plaque: The Sleeping Faun by Harriet Goodhue Hosmer. “She really captures the human form in this.”
“But has she conveyed an idea with this piece? What’s her message?” Clarisse questioned.
I shrugged, while Jane suggested, “Men can be pretty.” Megan, who had been rolling her eyes, smiled at Jane’s suggestion.

“It also symbolizes the way the common in our life can retain aesthetic value,” Clarisse finished.
“Yeah, I guess I don’t get it. It’s a can of soup,” I said, staring the Warhol print of Beef with Vegetables and Barley.
“Maybe it’s our engineering background, but I’ve gotta go with Li on this,” Dale agreed with me.
“Don’t make trouble,” Megan said quietly to me.
“But it’s a can of soup,” I repeated quietly. Despite the glare she returned, I detected a smirk underneath.

The museum shut down at 17:00, which was good because I was getting arted out. And tired of Clarisse’s color commentary the whole time, occasionally supplemented by Jake or Megan—but at least they contributed worthwhile insight.
We stopped for dinner at a Stake ’n Shake in the outskirts of the city. After ordering, Clarisse started on her post-game review, so I took some time to visit the bathroom for a change and dilation. She was still going when I came back; we eventually all agreed on one piece we all liked: The Age of Bronze, by some French guy in the 19[SUP]th[/SUP] century.
I drove the next leg of the way back, then handed the wheel over to Dale for the last two hours. Megan fell asleep, leaning against me; it had been a long day. I eventually nodded off too, waking up when Dale stopped for a traffic light after exiting the interstate. I started gathering my things for departure.

“So what’s with the soup cans?” Jane asked Megan after separating from Clarisse and Jake.
Megan sighed. “It’s what Clarisse said at the museum about finding the beauty in the common, everyday item. It’s supposed to make you open your eyes, really look at something that you’ve habituated to, so you can see the details you’ve been missing. But as much as I understand Warhol’s vision, he often focused on a subject even more than I care for.”
“More like obsessed on them,” Dale commented. Megan nodded silently.
Dale held the door for us as we made it to Robertson. Riding the lift, Megan asked, “Sleepover?”
“Sure, but I need to dilate before bed. I’ve got to make up for today.”
[/SIZE]I caught a scowl from Jane. ‘What is she pissed at now?’ I wondered.

Re: Robertson hall, ch 14

Chapter 14: Sex
‘Must be out of clothes’, I thought as we passed Kimmy waiting for the lift with her clothes basket, looking dead-tired.
“I’ll need about a half hour. If you’re too tired, I understand,” I said, unlocking the door.
“Would you mind if I joined you?” I must have non-verbally reacted as the possibilities of the question ran through my mind, because she clarified, “Not that way– you are so male sometimes.” The comment stung. “Just, you said you wouldn’t mind if I was in the room with you.”
“Okay. I’m going to brush my teeth. See you in a few minutes.”
Sure enough, she came in a few minutes later. Keith was out, since it was a Saturday night. “Can I join you?” she asked. I noticed the outline of perky nipples beneath her nightgown, although it wasn’t particularly cold.
I removed #16, set it on the floor, and hopped out of bed. “Can you take wall for now?”
Megan climbed under the sheet, and I slid back in beside her, my own body responding to her presence. I hesitated in the awkwardness I felt. “Okay, I’ve got to…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish.
“I know. I… It’s… I want…” It was comforting, in a way, to know it wasn’t just me; at the same time, I felt bad that it was me making her awkward.
“Okay,” I said, nodding. I reached down and got the #18 and lube, squirted some on, and spread it around. I raised and spread my knees, raised the sheet with one arm in attempt to avoid getting lube everywhere, and inserted the stent.
I closed my eyes and focused on breathing, distancing myself from the pain. It had been 18 hours– the quickie at the Steak 'n Shake had been #16 only– and so there was a lot of stretching. As I dissociated from the moment, my state of arousal declined, which allowed the stent to slide in a little farther.
After a few minutes, the dilator was at the correct depth and pain was subsiding. I felt the sheets move, then felt Megan’s fingertips gently stroke my inner thigh; I felt my body respond again, but there wasn’t bad pain. I opened my eyes to find her watching me very intently. As we laid there in silence, I could hear a little hitch in her breathing, which seemed short and nervous.
Her fingertips went from my inner thigh to the front, then up across the hipbone, finally circling my breasts several times. Questions about ‘just friends’ and her denial just minutes ago about this very possibility passed through my mind, but before I could think of what to do about them she spoke.
“I like you,” she said in a soft tone. Her fingers switched from circling my breast to running up and down, moving incrementally toward the nipple with each stroke.
“And I you,” I said, a hitch in my breathing now. I shuddered when her fingertips finally bumped across my nipple, feeling my pelvic muscles tighten and produce their own wave of pleasure and a second shudder.
I used the back of my fingers on my free hand to gently stroke her face before tracing a fingernail along the outer edge of her ear, after which she leaned over and kissed me on the lips. The first was a timid sort of peck, followed by a second one that felt more confident. She began to move on top of me, so I pulled out he stent and dropped it on the floor next to the bed, spreading lube on the sheets as I did.
As she interlocked legs, I wiped my lube-covered hand on the bottom sheet as best as I could do, then reached up with both hands to caress her back and bottom. She lowered herself into a passionate kiss as we gently, firmly, steadily rocked pelvises against one another for a while.

It was perhaps 20 minutes later when we were back in the same position except I was on top. I could tell from her breathing, her moans that she was getting close. She slipped her feet together and began thrusting more firmly against my hip, so I thrust more firmly against her. “Ow! Ah!” she complained; I slowed. “More lube.” I lifted my body off of hers as she squirted the remainder of the KY between us. “Okay, go!” I lowered my body and continued.
I could tell both of us were getting desperate, and then I felt her body clench, her fingers digging into my back, her breathing vocalizing into a breathy “Aaahhooo, Ahhhooo…” I held my hip against her, trembling, as she orgasmed.
As her body relaxed, I shifted onto my side next to her and we cuddled, facing each other. She looked even more beautiful tonight; I wanted to run my fingers through her auburn hair, but we were both now covered with lube and body fluids and it seemed like a bad idea. “You’re fantastic,” I said instead.
“You are too. Are you… done?”
“I’m sated, if that’s what you’re asking. But I should probably finish getting ready for bed.”
“Stay like this a few minutes.” It was a good idea, so I did.

I was sliding into sleep when the sound of the lock turning returned me to attention, and apparently Megan too. We shifted around a bit, but then Keith was in the room, so we pretended there was no elephant with him.
“Hey. How was the Gallery?” he asked before he had a good look at the state of things.
“Fantastic,” Megan supplied as I said, “Good.”
Keith looked at us with our hair askew, Megan blushing, and the dilators on the floor, before replying deliberately, “Good. I’m going to go brush my teeth now.” Setting down his backpack, he grabbed his toiletries and left.
I grinned at Megan and laughed. “Well, that was awkward.”
“Yes it was,” she agreed.
As we left the warmth beneath the sheets, I knew what was going to happen. I reached for one of the clean-up towels next to the bed just as I felt the urgency, but I had it in place this time. Megan gave me a strange look. “Stupid bladder,” I chastised as a few ounces of urine escaped, and her expression changed to understanding.
“Some minutes ago would have been worse, so don’t complain.”
“True.” As I put the wet towel in the laundry basket, I felt the lube drying on my skin. “I need a shower. Join me?”
“Sure,” she smiled at me.

“So what’s changed?” I asked as I soaped Megan’s back. “I thought I wasn’t dating material.”
She waited to turn away from the shower beam before she answered in the form of a question. “Are we dating? Or are we just friends having sex?”
I hadn’t considered the possibility, though I knew a few people in friends-with-benefits relationships. “You tell me?” We both thought for a moment, during which I realized it wasn’t a fair question.
“Turn around, I’ll do your back,” she offered. “Do we have to make a decision now?”
“No, we don’t”, I decided.

Keith was in bed when we got back, only pretending to sleep I suspected. I put my bucket away and hung our towels. When I turned around, Megan handed me a diaper. ‘I guess she’s ready for this, then,’ I thought, fluffing the diaper open and laying it on the bed. “Can you hand me the the powder?” I pointed; she passed it to me. I shook some on the diaper, laid back on it, and put more powder on me. It was weird having Megan watch, but couldn’t think of anything to say so I just finished pulling up the front and sticking the tapes.
I brushed my nightgown back down and slid under the sheets, against the wall. I noticed some sticky KY residue, but it wasn’t unbearable.
“Eew,” she commented as she climbed in. “I never thought that lesbian sex would involve so much KY.”
“Are we doing it right?” I asked.
“We’re not doing it wrong,” she answered.

The Clan went to brunch together on Sunday morning. As we returned to the floor around noon, Megan excused herself. “I need to get to the studio and work on a project. I’ll see you tonight, Li,” she said, and we exchanged a quick kiss.
“I thought you said you were ‘just friends,’” Kei started in, sounding jealous.
“We might be. I’m not sure if we’re dating or friends with benefits.”
“Where’s my benefits?” he asked. I wasn’t sure how serious he was, so I turned to face him.
“I never realized that was an option. Would it affect our friendship and being roommates?”
“I don’t know.” His expression suggested he was serious.
“Well, right now I need to figure out what’s going on with Megan. We can talk about it once that’s resolved.” I went back to digging for for my character sheet.
“So how was it?”
‘Men,’ I thought. “I don’t kiss and tell.” It was one of the few worthwhile things from the Men’s Code, which included plenty of less sensible requirements like drinking beer and watching sports. Except in practice, the rule was more like ‘kiss and do tell, but only when you’re in an all-male group, and if you didn’t kiss make something up anyway, especially if you’re in a locker room.’ “Ready?”
He had his books and character sheets in hand. “Ready.” As we crowded into Tim and Bert’s room, Jane asked, “So what happened between you and Megan last night?”
‘Were we that obvious?’ I wondered.

Monday at noon, I met Megan outside the Student Union; she greeted me with a smile and hug. Indeed, there was a podium with a “National Coming Out Day Kiss In” banner hanging behind it, with some of the Fellowship leadership standing around nearby. At precisely noon Gay Standard Time, which was somewhere around 12:10 normal time, the club president finally took the podium to make a speech.
“My fellow students,” he began. ‘Oh Jesus Christ, he’s a log cabiner,’ I thought. Thankfully, as the speech went on it wasn’t conservi-queer tripe, and he was inclusive of the trans and intersex spectrum, and even made reference to polyamory as a right that should be fought for. The big focus, though, seemed to be the politicization of love, and an argument for allowing gay marriage.
“In closing, I want to quote the words of Mahatma Ghanda: ‘No one is free while others are oppressed.’ Gay and Lesbian marriage is not a special right. We seek the same respect and privileges from marriage that straight people enjoy, yet we are currently denied marriage. We must stand together, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, polyamorous, and intersex, and with support from our straight allies, we must together fight this oppression for the good of us now, and for all that come after. Thank you.”
As clapping for his speech subsided, the president stood down and joined his partner while Dana, the secretary, took the stage. “As the president has said, it is not by our choice that our relationships have political implications, but a result of those that would seek to deny us our equality. With that in mind, let the kissing begin.”
It was only when Megan turned herself to face me and put her arms around my waist that I realized she meant to participate. “I love you, Li,” she said, but I barely heard her because Big E’s warning echoed in my head: I wasn’t supposed to be kissing girls in public. I pulled away.

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 14

Another good chapter, keep up the good work

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 14

So I got around to writing an improved text wrangler shell script which makes converting between indented paragraph format and blank-separated paragraph format and 70-character width terminal format pretty easy. Someone in the ‘writing’ thread expressed a preference for blank-separated format, so I’m giving that a try. So let me know what you think, both content and formatting!

Chapter 15: Kissing

“Whoa! I thought we were just supporting today,” I said stupidly.

Megan looked really hurt all of a sudden. “I thought you wanted… We just…”

‘I just screwed the pooch,’ my brain panicked, ‘Fix this.’ “No, I do Megan, but… have you thought about the implications of kissing the campus tranny? In public?” I added, while somewhere else in my mind I scrambled with Big E’s implied threats.

“Yes, I have,” Megan responded, now sounding exasperated. “Remember last month? And I’ve been thinking about it for the last month as our friendship has grown.”

‘This is exactly what this rally is about: who I am allowed to love, and who I can express that with,’ it occurred to me. “You’re sure?” I asked quietly after a moment.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said, sounding angry that I was questioning her.

‘Fuck Big E, and be damned the bathrooms. Megan is more important,’ I concluded. “Then before we do this, I want you to know that you’re amazing,” I repaired, pulling her toward me. “From the way your auburn hair burns in the sunlight to the intelligence you show when we talk, from your artistic flair to the way you snuggle, the way you know what I’m thinking, and put up with all the hazards of my life, and just roll with it and stay by my side. I love you too Megan.” Apparently I did something right, because she smiled again, put her arms around me, looked into my eyes, and kissed me.

It was just as splendid as our previous kisses: the warm tenderness of her lips; the feeling of holding each other tightly, as if we wanted to be one; the taste of her tongue and scent of her hair.

We eventually broke the kiss and looked into each other eyes. As we stood there, a voice interrupted. “Excuse me, Ms. Calder. Are you stealing our women?” I looked up to see Dana staring us down, trying to look angry.

“No, I converted her. Where’s my damn toaster oven?” Dana’s pretense of anger faded into a smile. “Megan, this is Dana,” I introduced the two.

“We’ve met,” said Dana. “How ya doing, Megan. Lisa, do you have a minute? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“I’ve got until 14:00. 2 o’clock.”

“Excellent.” She lead us to an androgynous individual playing Hacky Sak. “Excuse me, Jo,” she asked. ‘Or is that “Joe?”’ I wondered.

Jo[e] turned out to be an ambiguous name, because Jo[e] was ambivalent on the matter of her gender. For the moment, she was still doing the bull-dyke thing, but he was thinking of transitioning. “Would you prefer if I use male pronouns then?” I asked, hoping for some clarification, but ze just shrugged and replied, “Eh. Whatever.”

I suggested having lunch together, which she was up for. Megan had class at 13:00, so she bailed. Dana joined us, suggesting I talk about aspects of transition Joe might relate to, but as we compared notes it became apparent there were noteworthy differences between ‘MTF’ and ‘FTM’ transitions.

The crux was the moment of transition, or lack of one: Jo already wore masculine clothing, yet was still a tomboy. Hormones or a statement would be the delineation of female and male for Joe, if he chose to transition; and he could do so gradually and pick up the role along the way, as he already seemed to be doing.

For me, clothing had been the delineation. I wasn’t considered serious until the day I went full-time; before that I had been relegated to cross-dresser status, treated as if I just had an infatuation with women’s clothing. Maybe it would have been different if I’d been on hormones longer than 7 months, allowing more breast development; or if electrolysis had been further along– laser treatments had taken the bulk, but I needed to leave regrowth for zapping by traditional electrolysis. So in my transition there wasn’t much gray area, and little opportunity to transition gradually; April 19, 2003 had been the beginning of a trial-by-fire.

We talked a little about the difficulties I’d run into while transitioning on campus, and I left with an action item to e-mail Jo[e] a list of contacts I had, including the counselors I’d dealt with off-campus.

After classes, I returned to my room to dilate. I tried combining it with Kegel exercises I’d been assigned to help with bladder control, but had stopped doing because they were painful in the beginning. Now they were definitely not painful, and so instead of doing the A&P reading I’d set up in the gooseneck book holder, I explored some of the new sensations my body could generate.

When I was done officially dilating, I set the dilator on the floor and lubed up two fingers. My brain had already been correcting the sensation-to-location mappings for my labia, although they weren’t that accurate yet. I spent about 10 minutes exploring inside now. Although the dilators triggered the neovaginal nerves, there was no mapping to where they were– just a sense of depth. As I probed different points inside, I could sense the touch on a penis that wasn’t there anymore. I concentrated on the feeling of each point, visualizing where my fingers were to implant the new mappings into my brain.

After dinner, Dale, Tim, and I went to robotics team. Roger greeted us with a British cockney accent. “Gordon Bennett! Gander whot’s come in wiff the gents.”

I recognized it, but I couldn’t speak it. “You’re on your own this week, Roger.”

“Whot, ya don thin’ ya can dae it? Gib it a shot.” I shook my head; Roger seemed disappointed that I refused to participate this week.

Dale and I met with Kraus, who now had the consciousness fully interacting with the emulator. He’d been debugging and felt his code was in great shape. Dale reported being stuck on the vision components, so after some deliberation he agreed to take on the conveyor and hopper interfaces, and Kraus would now take over vision. I reported my intent to stay late tonight, getting ValOS running on an actual MCU.

After we broke up, Kraus took off while Dale went and talked with Kate and a mechie who were busy testing a conveyor prototype they’d built.

Meanwhile, Tim was busy with a half dozen other people, including Roger, all working on the chassis and locomotion.

I took one of the MCU break-out boards out of the closet, wired it up to Valerie, and started working. At 22:00, Tim interrupted me to ask if I wanted to walk home with him. “No thanks. I’m in the groove.” I took the opportunity to visit the ladies’ room for a change before resuming work.

While waiting for a download at about 23:00, I noticed it was just Roger and me left. He wasn’t working on the project anymore, but since he had keys, he was obligated to either throw me out or stay behind. Apparently he’d chosen to just let me work, which was fine with me.

At 00:15, I finally had success. Not that I was close to done, but now ValOS could boot, run processes, do IPC, and even trap memory writes to OS space. I checked my work into RCS so I wouldn’t lose it, then packed up.

“Can I mosey ye gaffe?” Roger asked when he saw me getting ready to leave.

“What?” He repeated what he said, but I had no idea what he was saying so I just shook my head. “Can I walk you home?” he finally translated.

“Not necessary, but if you’d like.”

“I would like. To walk you home, I mean.” Roger turned things off and locked up as we left. As we walked toward the dorms, we made small talk about the team progress. Arriving at Robertson hall, he bade me a good evening and walked off.

As I arrived back at the floor, Kimmy was going down to do laundry again. “G’night Kimmy,” I said as I passed her.

I got as far as putting my key in the door when the oddness of what I’d just seen struck me. I thought about it before unlocking the room, but finally went in and set my stuff down. Megan wasn’t here tonight, though I could use her social skills now.

I got started dilating, mulling over what to do. There was only one possibility for what I’d seen, two nights apart. And it would account for her being tired all the time if it was going on frequently. But would I spook her in some way if I approached her?

Yet I couldn’t just ignore it; she was suffering, and it wouldn’t be right. Twenty five minutes later, having dilated, cleaned up, brushed teeth, and put on a night diaper, I got my keys and headed to the laundry room in my nightgown.

I stopped at the door and looked in; Kimmy was just taking her sheets out of the washer. I noted her outfit, a mismatched set of pajama tops and sweatpants– more confirmation. Not wanting to startle her, I knocked gently on the doorframe; I entered as she looked up.

“Hi,” I said, still keeping my distance. She didn’t say, or do, anything. “I’ve put two and two together, I think.” I waited to see what she would do, but she didn’t do anything other than look frightened. “If I’m scaring you, I can leave. But if you want to talk about this, I promise I won’t tell anyone.” Still no reaction. “Have you been to the health office to make sure it’s not an infection or something?”

It got a reaction. She thought for a moment, and finally asked, “Is that possible?”

“I think so. Or stress, maybe. Is it happening in the day?”

She thought before answering again. “No.” I considered the possibilities.

“Then not an infection, so stress, probably.” I thought about what to do, what to say. “Why aren’t you handling this in a less invasive way?”

“Such as?”

“Depends.” She turned her head, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, but stayed quiet. I got the sense she was close to breaking down in tears, or going ballistic screaming. No one needed that, and the possibilities of fallout for me were bad– how would I explain my presence down here with her? Playing this game of chess, avoiding exposure wouldn’t work; I either needed to give up, or ante up and put something of myself on the line.

“You’re not alone, Kimmy.” As I said it, I realized that under the circumstances, maybe I should avoid the diminutive form of her name. “Uh– Kim.”

Another pause, and finally, “What do you mean?”

“You’re not the only one this happens to. Since my surgery, it happens to me too.” Finally, she seemed to relax; her voice cracked as she asked, “Every night?”

“Yup.” She started to sob gently. ‘Now what do I do?’ I wondered. I finally concluded I should let her choose.

“Kim,” I waited for her to look up. “I’m not sure what to do to help you. If you want, we can sit down over there,” I pointed to some chairs in the laundromat, “and talk more about this. Or you can start the dryer, then come upstairs and I’ll lend you some protection. If you want– you seem exhausted– you can crash in my bed, and I’ll sleep with Keith. Or you can go back to your room. What would you like to do?”

She thought again while wiping away some tears. “Let me start the dryer.” I waited while she loaded the wet sheets into a dryer. “Ok,” she said when she came back, still standing a few feet away from me.

She followed me to the elevator, keeping her distance. She did join me in the same lift car when it arrived.

Back at the room, I unlocked the door and lead her in. I turned to her and begged, “Please don’t tell anyone about this.” I thought about whether a brief or pull-up would be better, but couldn’t decide. “When’s your first class?” When she looked suspiciously at me, I explained, “I have two kinds. I need to know which you need, so I need to know how long you’ll sleep.”

“I just want to sleep,” she groaned.

I took out a diaper and handed it to her, then got the powder and gave that to her. “Do you know what to do?” She nodded. “I’ll step outside so you can set yourself up.”

A few minutes later, she opened the door. She still didn’t look happy, but after a week of insomnia, I wouldn’t have either.

“Did you want to sleep in my bed?” She nodded but stood there, so I gestured with my hand that she should go back in. I followed her in and locked the door behind me. As she climbed into my bed, I nudged Keith awake. “Shove over, we have a guest.” He didn’t bother asking what I meant, just made room and went back to sleep. Kimmy turned off the desk lamp, and soon we were all asleep.

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 15

Another excellent chapter, keep up the good work

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 15

Excellent chapter to an excellent story. Please keep up the good work

Re: Robertson hall, ch 16

Since nobody expressed a preference, I’m defaulting back to indented-paragraph style.

On the production side of things, I have now completed the fall semester and even printed and self-bound a copy of it (240 pages @ 5.5" x 8.5" arranged as 6 duplex 2-up 10 page signatures, if I’ve got my printing terminology right). Which I’ve promptly ruined by reading and marking it up; I’m now transcribing the edits and corrections.

Spring semester planning is underway, with courses, dates and events outlined and some ideas floating in my head. I’ve gotten permission to borrow a couple of characters from another author, so there will be an encounter with Tuck and Mike at some point.

But y’all would probably rather just read the next installment…

Chapter 16: Bedwetter
I awoke to Kei’s alarm clock at 8:00, but instead of ignoring it and going back to sleep– as I would have done if I was in my bed– I stretched and looked over at him. He reached over and shut off the annoying bleeping, then snuggled back under the sheets next to meet and greeted, “Good morning.” I felt the brush of an erection as he moved, but I had no way of knowing if he was aroused or if it was just morning wood. “So why is Kimmy sleeping in our room?”
“Someone told her a story that someone committed suicide in her room last year, and she hasn’t been able to sleep since,” I lied, thinking quickly. “She’s afraid of ghosts, I guess,” I added after a moment.
“Huh. Well, she can’t stay here all the time.”
“Just for tonight. I’ll work with her to dispel the myth today.” Given we had been friends for so long, I would have expected it to be awkward in bed with Keith, but now that it was happening it wasn’t bad at all. The cozy warmth under the sheets beat any awkwardness hands-down, so we cuddled for a few minutes before getting up– I could have used more sleep, but I was awake now anyway. Kim was still in a deep sleep, so while Kei showered I laid out a towel on his bed and dilated there. Before I started, I made sure my bladder was empty, an act one would have thought would be easy given incontinence. But in practice, it was not; I finally took off the diaper and let the cool air trigger the release. I held the diaper back in place as my bladder drained.
I put on the clothes I’d worn yesterday and joined Keith to breakfast, then picked up Kim’s laundry– identified by the pink basket I’d seen her with last night, and the dryer with sheets, one change of clothes, and the pajama bottoms matching the top she was currently wearing.
She was still sleeping when I got back to the room, so I took a shower, put on fresh clothes and read until 10:30. “Kim, wake up. You need to go back to your room.” I said, shaking her shoulder gently.
“Let me sleep some more,” She groaned before rolling over and resuming sleep. I felt bad for her, so I let her sleep, hoping one of us would be back before she left.
I dashed home between Logic and A&P to check on room. “Hi. You’re up,” I said, opening the door to find her reading on my bed. Her laundry was gone too, I noted, and she was now dressed and showered.
“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t want to leave your room unguarded with the stereo and computers.”
“Oh. Actually, I really appreciate you doing that– I was nervous about the room being left unlocked, which is why I’m checking in. I need to get back to class.”
“Okay, but I need to talk to you.”
“I’m out at 6 o’clock, or you can walk with me now.”
She chose to walk with me. “So what do I do now?” she asked.
“About bedwetting?” She winced at the word. “Same solution as last night. You can get some of your own at the pharmacy or grocery.”
“I don’t have a car.” That would complicate things, but maybe I could buy them for her. “And I don’t want Sheila finding out.” Sheila was her roommate.
“You don’t think Sheila knows already?” She shook her head vigorously. ‘De Nile ain’t just a river in Egypt,’ I remembered from somewhere. “When do you normally go to bed?”
“Between 9 and 10.”
“Alright. Stop in before bed, and you can use my room to get ready. But, I’ve already lied to Keith to cover this up, and I’m not going to be able to keep that up every night. I’m going to need to come clean with him.”
“He’s kept my secret,” I cut her off. “So he’ll keep yours too. I would trust him with my life,” I stated truthfully. She thought about it and finally nodded. “Good. I’ll see you between 9 and 10 tonight.”

Megan and I were reading on my bed and Keith was writing on his laptop when there was a knock on the door; it was 20:45. I answered it to find Kim. ‘Crap, I never had a chance to talk with Keith,’ I thought. I’d been busy the whole day, then dinner with The Clan, then we’d all been in my room studying. Plus I’d forgotten.
I made a quick judgement call on whether to try to persuade Kim to let Megan in on the secret, or ask Megan to leave; both options sucked. “Come in, Kim. Have a seat,” I said, gesturing to the open desk.
I addressed Megan, who already seemed curious about Kim’s presence. “I’m helping Kim with her insomnia. Can we have a few minutes?”
“Sure. How long do you need?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll go get ready for bed. See you soon.” I had been afraid Megan would ask questions, and breathed a sigh of relief that she had not.
Meanwhile, Kei was talking with Kim. “The story about the suicide. Who made it up?” he asked a confused-looking Kim.
“I lied,” I interjected when Megan left. “Kimmy,” I cringed at the form, though it didn’t seem to bother her, “isn’t having a problem with ghosts.” Turning to Kim, I clarified, “I told Keith your insomnia was because someone told you a lie about a suicide in your room, and you were freaking out now.”
“So what’s actually going on?” Keith asked. I looked at Kim, so Keith did too.
Kimmy blushed and looked down. “I… I’m… I’ve been wetting the bed,” she finally sputtered out.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” said Keith, as if it was somehow his fault. After a moment he noted, “So that’s why you were starting laundry at a quarter past insane the other night.” Kim nodded while staring at the ground.
“So anyway,” I started and filled in Keith on how we would be helping Kim out, then we both stepped out to give her some privacy.
“Sleep tight,” Keith said when she left our room a few minutes later.

Wednesday and Thursday were uneventful. On my way to breakfast Friday, I picked up a copy of the campus weekly. The cover had a provocative picture of two men in tuxes, standing at an altar– they were doing an article on gay marriage after the rally on Monday. I got some breakfast and began reading.
It was a typically mediocre article from the student-run rag. It presented both sides of the argument, but the depth was lacking and even I could tell it had a liberal bias, not that I had a problem with that. As I came to the end of the article, I flipped to the vox pops on the next page– and there, in among the pro comments on the left and the against comments on the right, were a number of photos of Monday’s rally, including one of Megan and me kissing. I couldn’t decide if this was brilliant or terrible: brilliant, because this was now on record as an issue of the larger GLBT community, which might make me untouchable; or terrible, because the administration might use this against me in the matter of my gender. I would just have to wait and see.

Friday night at dinner, Megan suggested dancing again. Jane and I agreed enthusiastically. Tim seemed okay with the idea, which was about as enthusiastic as he ever got. Dale, in Buddhist form, just went with the flow. We even persuaded Bert to join us.
Back at the floor, Tim went to see if April was available, while I talked with Kim. Sheila answered the door. “Hi. Is Kim here?” She let me in.
“Hi Lisa.”
“Hi Kim. We’re going dancing tonight. Do you want to join us?”
“Dancing? Where are you going?” Sheila looked interested.

“I know what boys like,
I know what guys want.
I know what boys like:
Boys like, boys like me.” Megan and I danced to the sultry cover of the classic punk song, doing a freestyle bump-and-grind with each other. We stayed close for the next song too, which was a piece I didn’t know. The chorus of Ya Soshla S Uma sounded Japanese, but the lyrics were probably Ukrainian or Russian; I finally gave up trying to figure it out and focused on dancing with Megan. That segued into Dee-Lite’s Groove is in the Heart, so we opened up and danced with the rest of the crowd.
Tim and April were dancing together again tonight. Kim was hanging with a pack of guys while Bert and Sheila were looking bored; Sheila joined in when some hip-hop came on. The first two songs of the hip-hop set weren’t bad, though I don’t know the genre’s artists and titles by name; the third sucked so Megan and I took a break.
Jane and Dale were sipping drinks and talking with Bert, so we joined them while waiting for the bar to clear– a lot of other people had the same idea in response to the current shit that way playing. “C’mon, just let yourself go, it’s fun,” Jane was saying, trying to convince Bert to dance.
I started talking with Dale when Megan excused herself to the bathroom. Megan wasn’t back yet when a retro-techno version of the Speed Racer theme came on; I grabbed Bert and dragged him, while Jane pushed, onto the dance floor. As he finally acquiesced and started dancing, it was evident why he hadn’t wanted to do this: he had no rhythm at all. I stuck with him and tried to match his awkwardness by limiting myself to a simple set of movements, hoping he’d pick up the beat, and maybe he did a little. But he really did suck at this.
Megan eventually walked up as we stood around waiting for a beat during the introductory chorus of Apotheosis’s O Fortuna– the DJ was apparently an idiot, because the song should have lead the set, not been in the middle. As the beat kicked in, Megan grabbed Bert, locked her frame, and started dancing. I must not have been as strong a lead because within a minute or so Bert had matched her rhythm.

“I’m bushed!” Tim yelled over the music at around 00:45. “We’re going to head out.”
“Me too, actually,” I yelled and looked at Megan. She nodded, so we started gathering the troops.

Kim came into the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth. “Lisa?”
I spat toothpaste out and replied, “The door’s open. Help yourself.” Megan watched Kim leave in the mirror as she removed the last of her make-up, then gave me a sideward glance.
A few minutes later Kimmy unlocked the door and came out of my room. “Good night. Thanks for taking us dancing,” she said before walking back toward her room.
After I closed the door behind us, Megan grinned at me. “She crinkles nicely. Just like you, darling.”
I laughed, realizing the jig was up. “Yeah, don’t tell that to Kim though. She’s having a hard time dealing with this.”
“I know.”
“I know you know,” I said, because Megan really was exceptional at the interpersonal stuff. Or maybe it just seemed it given the ineptness of my other friends. And myself, for that matter. “You know what else I know?” I asked.
“What do you know?”
“I know I like to kiss you.” I embraced her, kissing her softly while putting one leg between hers and raising it on tip-toes, carefully positioning my hips to gently stroke her nether regions with my quadriceps.
“I know what you’re thinking of,” she said as our lips parted; with arms still around each other, she towed me toward the bed.
“Just a second.” I broke the embrace long enough to hang an ethernet cable on our exterior doorknob before asking, “Where were we?” and reconnecting with Megan. And then we were kissing again, and I felt her fingernails on my back, and she smelled so good, and the rest of the world became irrelevant…

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 16

I’am sorry but this seems to be getting more and more should I say off. First it was good, but know it’s just down right weird. Plenty of other people seem to like it though so don’t stop [move]:D[/move]

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 16

Thanks for the comment. Could you be more specific about what’s “weird” or “off”? Is it just this chapter, or the last few?

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 16

I think it is a great story, I am always waiting on the next chapter!

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 16

Another excellent chapter to a great story, keep up the good work

Robertson hall, ch 17

Chapter 17: Binaries,Triads
Megan, Keith, and I slept in late on Saturday morning since we’d been up until the wee hours; Keith had been waiting in the hall when I went to retrieve the cable. The three of us spent the early hours of the afternoon catching up on laundry and studying before Keith got distracted with the 'net. Megan eventually had enough of studying and spent some time reading a novel.
When The Clan assembled for dinner, Kei announced our after-dinner plans: Battlestar Galactica. But not ‘TOS’; instead, he had the 2003 miniseries in preparation for the imminent launch of the new series. Everyone was amenable to that idea, although I don’t think Megan was keen on it.
We joined Andy’s crowd at dinner, so Kei invited them to join us for Battlestar. At around 19:00, the dozen or so of us piled into 605. Several of them had seen the miniseries, although I hadn’t; it was pretty good, but then again the 1978 pilot movie for the original series had been decent too.
When Kim knocked at 21:30, someone near the door let her in and and I had to think fast. “Hi Kim,” I said as I disentangled myself from cuddling with Megan. “I did get hold of that report you needed. There were a couple things I wanted to point out.” I grabbed my backpack and tried not to step on people as I made my way to the hall. “Is Sheila in?” I asked quietly once I was outside and the door was closed. She nodded.
“C’mon,” I said, and lead us into the bathroom. I bent down and glanced below the stall walls; no feet. I kicked the prop rod on the door to let it close, dug through my backpack, and pulled out a brief and powder. “Here you go,” I said, handing over the items. She went into a stall and changed; as she came out, she commented, “This is a lot easier than the other kind.”
“True, but not as absorbent. I hope you don’t have any problems, but with the others in there…” I shrugged. “Let me know how they work out.”
“Lisa,” she said as I opened the door to my room. I looked back at her. “Thanks for all your help.”
“You’re welcome,” I said and rejoined Battlestar.

Sunday at brunch Bert suggested an outdoor paintball place as both fun and exercise. With enough badgering, he got everyone except me to go along; I claimed medical excuse, partly because it was a legitimate concern, and partly because it had been raining on and off for a few days and I envisioned unpleasant levels of mud. I used the opportunity to hack on ValOS. With baseline down, the next phase wasn’t too bad; I just had to keep track of who had which page, and turn them on and off during context switches.
I was dilating and doing Kegels when The Clan returned. When I heard them outside the room, I quickly covered up with a blanket, managing to do so before anyone entered to tell me how fun, and painful, it was. They were all filthy while I laid there and listened to the war stories, a little surprised they were all staying– several had previously been squeamish about dilation.
It wasn’t until I set a dilator on the floor that anyone seemed to realize what I was doing. I was done anyway at that point, but it was a cue for Bert to remind us we were late for D&D. Everyone shuffled out to go get showers, except Megan and Kei. Megan helped me up with a grubby hand and kissed me. “You had fun then?” I asked afterward, noticing leaf remnants hanging in her hair.
She nodded. “Uh-huh. Paintballs sting like a bastard though. Want to do my back?” I had already showered, but agreed to anyway.

Monday night Kraus missed robotics team, and there wasn’t much to catch up on with Dale, so I spent some time showing him how to set up the MCU test board, how to download the program, and other essentials that he’d need to know soon enough.
Roger had missed me coming in, but again he stayed late. It should have been straightforward, but there was a bug in my linked list iterator that prevented the first page from being mapped into the process data spaces. That meant most processes crashed in the first few instructions, so I thought it wasn’t working at all, and I went down a rathole trying to figure out what was wrong with the way I was programming the memory controller. I finally tracked it down at around 23:45 and got it working.
As I got up, I realized I was very wet, although nothing was leaking yet. Since I’d be changing into a night diaper when I got home, I skipped changing and hoped for the best.
Roger walked me home again. We talked about interests outside the project– he was on the swim team, of all things, and spoke several languages in addition to his obvious addiction to movies. As we neared Robertson, he changed the topic. “I saw your picture in the paper this week. You’re lesbian now?”
“For the moment, I guess. I’m not sure, though; I’m probably bisexual although I haven’t had the chance to act on it yet.”
“You’re an ‘or’ bisexual then?”
I failed to parse his question. “What?”
“You’re happy with that girl you’re with; you’re not looking. So you’re an ‘or’ bisexual, you want a man or a woman. As opposed to an ‘and’ bisexual, which would want one of each.”
I had to think about that for a bit. “The problem with that question is the assumption of two sexes, but as the transgender community proves there is plenty of variation outside the traditional binaries,” I gave the official party line objection. I watched until he nodded understanding, then continued, “But to answer your question, right now I’m infatuated with Megan. But she’s noncommittal, if equally infatuated, I think. And I am curious about sex with men, so…” I left the statement unfinished.
Roger thought on that awhile. We were approaching Robertson when he finally replied, “Well, if you figure it out, let me know.” It was only then that I realized he was ascertaining if I was available.
“I will,” I said. “You seem like a nice guy…if I was available, I’d love to go on a date with you.”
“You would?” He sounded excited.
“If”, I emphasized, “I was available. Right now I’m with Megan, and I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Right.” We had arrived at Robertson. “I’ll see you next week.”
“G’night Roger.”

“How was Battlestar?” I asked as I walked into my room.
“Interesting,” was Keith’s non-committal answer. “Can you play X-vid AVI format?”
I shook my head. “Valerie can’t play shit,” I answered honestly. “Not enough CPU. I’ll catch it tomorrow evening. Did Kim get taken care of okay?”
“She never stopped in.” That worried me; I hoped everything was okay.

I timed a diaper resupply run to 10:15 Tuesday morning, which worked out just as well as it had the last time. I picked up some extra, too, since I was now Kim’s supplier for the illicit items. I also grabbed some chocolate for my girlfriend.
As I walked to class afterward, I thought about Roger’s interest, and Kei’s interest before that. Megan and I felt very tight, but when we had talked about it she was ambiguous. I very much enjoyed her companionship, but nevertheless I had a curiosity about intercourse, about being penetrated. I needed to gather up the courage to talk to her about it.
The three of us were reading when Kim arrived at about 21:30 that night. “Hi, Kim,” I said as I let her in. “Kei said you never came last night. Is everything okay?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, looking upbeat about it, but said nothing. “Megan,” she finally whispered.
“Oh, right. Ah…Megan knows about me, and she figured out about you,” I blurted out.
“Oh,” was all Kim said, her cheerfulness dissipating.
“So, you looked happy a moment ago. I take it you had a dry night?”
She nodded. “Saturday night. Not last night, though.”
“Good for you. One night…you’re doing better than I am. How did the brief style work out?”
“The pull-up one?”
“Yeah. It didn’t leak, did it?”
“No, but it seemed close. But if I stay dry, I can reuse it like I did.”
Her economy reminded me I should ask about money. “By the way, this stuff costs money. It’s going to be about five bucks a week. Payable when you get around to it. So…pull-up style then?” She nodded, so I got one out and handed it to her.
“Come on Keith, let’s give the lady some privacy.” As I left the room, I noticed Kim staring at Megan. But they were both cisgendered women, so if there was a problem that was up to Kim to resolve.
“This is kind of a pain in the ass,” Kei mentioned.
“Yeah, but for a few moments of our time, we make Kim’s life a lot better.” He just sighed, knowing I was right.

The remainder of the week was quiet. Wednesday featured the first logic exam, and Friday the second Abnormal one. We finished up the integumentary system in A&P, moving into the circulatory and respiratory systems.
During dinner Friday, Victor visited our table to inform us that there was a Netrek game afoot on campus again. We had played freshman year, but after the organizer graduated it fell apart. “What lab?” I asked.
“We’re using the graphics lab. Or connect to port 3521 on Simon. Warm-up starts at 6, T-mode at 8.” I recognized ‘T-mode’ as game slang for the start of a tournament.
“Excellent.” The geeks among us– all of us except Jane and Megan– were excited by the prospect of it. The problem was, if both Kei and I went, then Kim couldn’t get into our room. I considered seeing if Megan would babysit the room, but roping her into a boring evening wasn’t right. Which meant I had to stay home. But Megan would probably stay with me, while Keith would go to Netrek. Suddenly, Netrek seemed less interesting.
“What are you doing tonight?” I asked Megan as we left the dining hall.

“Uh…Ah…ooooohhhh,” Megan groaned in pleasure. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Mom’s a massage therapist, and I picked up a few tricks of the trade.”
“Thank your mom for…Ooooh, yeah,” she said as I repeated the same technique on her other laminar groove. I had checked in with Kim when we got to the floor; she was going out with friends and expected to be back between 22:30 and 23:00. Keith left for Netrek at 19:30, which gave us 3 hours of privacy. I intended to use it effectively.
I spent an hour giving Megan a massage, at which point she demanded she be allowed to return the favor. Who was I to object? She spent about a half hour on me before we were cuddling, looking into each others eyes, and making out.
Two hours later we were spooning when I heard Kim’s soft knock on the door. “Stay here, I’ll get it darling,” I said. “Can you hand me a towel?” She did, and as I climbed out from under the warm sheets and stood up, my body did what I expected and peed involuntarily. Fortunately, I was ready.
I put on my nightgown and let Kim in, hoping the scent of sex wasn’t too strong. “How was your night?” I asked as I retrieved a brief for her and diaper for me. When I turned around, she was staring at the dilators and tube of lube on the floor. “Oh, yeah, those are my medical dilators,” I half-lied; their most recent use hadn’t been for strictly medical purposes. “I should probably wash them now,” I said, handing the brief to her and putting the diaper down on my desk. I scooped up the stents and went to the bathroom to wash them off, leaving the two women alone.
“I don’t think Kim believed you,” Megan said when I returned, taking the Ethernet cable off the doorknob as I entered.
“I wouldn’t have believed me either.” I tidied up, put the diaper on, and climbed back into bed for more snuggling.

Robertson hall, ch 18

Chapter 18: Halloween
The remainder of the weekend was routine: an outing to the mall on Saturday, board games Saturday night, and D&D on Sunday. Sunday night Jane drove off the men with White Oleander, a chick flick she’d bought at the mall on Saturday, so we invited Kim, Sheila, April, and Caitlyn to join us.
Monday night, Kraus and I were discussing the difficulties of vision when Jimbo arrived, late as always. “Alright, everybody, all hands meeting. We have just over a month before the first round of competition, so how is everybody doing?” There was a lot of groaning. “Let’s hear from the teams, one at a time, and then we can create an action plan and set deliverable dates.”
The power supply was done, which was no surprise– that was critical for everything else. The drive motors and all four wheels were in place and had been tested, but the front wheels had to come back off and steering systems installed. The conveyor was prototyped, and a final version was being constructed along with the input hopper and a ball guide that was necessary until the sorter was in place. There were detailed drawings for the output hopper and dump mechanism, but nothing was built; the scoop mechanism sounded so easy that it had been neglected altogether.
On the software side, the infrastructure was in good shape. Kraus had a design for ‘eyesight’, had picked out a web cam as a video source, and was working on some code. He was nervous about having enough time to do it all. Which wasn’t a surprise; automation and vision were the biggest new part of the project, and were a huge effort.
The plan was set up: I would take over the camera portion and have a driver ready by next week; the chassis would be ready by then too. The following week I would be interfacing the chassis while the conveyor people installed that. Week 3, Dale would integrate the conveyor software while the scoop and dump mechanisms were put on, and I worked on the corresponding drivers. If all went well, by the week of 15 November, we’d have a working robot, except possibly for vision. Kraus refused to commit to a date for that.
We all had our work cut out for us. I spent the next 3 days researching the camera and digging up code on the 'net to cookbook with. On the third day, I came across Open Solaris, which had a decent USB architecture built on STREAMS that could be ported over to ValOS with some effort. I scrapped what I had been working on and ‘borrowed’ the code; Sun wouldn’t mind since I wasn’t a commercial entity, and more importantly, they didn’t know about it.
It was Halloween weekend, so despite being engrossed in the project I was obligated by The Clan to attend Rocky Horror again. It was probably a good thing because it afforded the chance to spend some time with Megan. I hadn’t been thinking about the upcoming holiday, so my costume options were limited: I could be Columbia, the Rocky Horror character who I found to be fun, or I could do the cross-dressing thing again which Megan might like. In the end, I decided I should do what I want, rather than defer my personality to my girlfriend, so I chose the Columbia outfit.
Keith wanted to get ready in private– he was being secretive about his costume– so when I was ready I collected Megan, who was dressed as Magenta. “Ready?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said, grabbing a blow dryer and keys.
We went to Dale’s room where he and Jane were American Goth again, complete with the dildo pitchfork. “Where’s Chris?”
“He’s sitting out the night, the wuss. He says he doesn’t like Halloween.”
Bert arrived minutes later dressed as his version of the grim reaper, which was really just a ninja costume with a plastic scythe. “The Grim Reaper is not an old skeletal guy with arthritis,” he explained melodramatically. “Death moves swiftly and silently, like the ninja. You won’t even know I’m around until you feel my icy steel blade upon your throat, nor will there be time to make the slightest sound before I have released you of the burdens of this mortal coil.”
Tim and April followed Bert in. Tim was dressed professionally but carrying a cane and wearing a huge, 1970’s style Afro wig. April was dressed in a miniskirt and looking cheap, hanging on Tim’s right arm. “Whose the private consultant who gives ya most of it?” Tim asked in baritone.
“Hack,” April responded in a falsetto.
“You can dig it,” Tim finished the cliché and gave us a grin to show off an aluminum foil covered tooth as the rest of us laughed.
A few minutes later Jane and Megan were having their own conversation while the rest of us discussed Ubuntu Linux, when I heard music from the hall. As I tried to place it, Keith staggered in with his costume. Dressed in ragged clothes, he’d wrapped his knees up so they looked horribly deformed, the size of watermelons. The music stopped as he stopped moving, but the image was all I needed to figure it out: he was Torgo, complete with theme music when he moved.
“The…MASTER will…take us to ROCKY…now,” he said in a whiny voice, wiggling in place like he had Parkinson’s disease. Dale and I had a good laugh, then did our best explaining Torgo to the rest of them.
Presently I prompted, “Shall we get moving?”
“We’re still waiting on Kimmy,” April answered. I hadn’t been aware she was joining us; Rocky didn’t seem like the kind of thing she would do more than the once. Nevertheless, she arrived a few minutes later dressed in a ruffly white-and-pink Bo-Beep outfit. It didn’t strike me as a Rocky Horror kind of costume, but it did seem right for Kim.

Since it was a Halloween show, there was a costume contest before the movie, with audience response determining who would win. We all participated.
“A ninja,” the emcee announced when it was Bert’s turn.
“Death,” Bert corrected him.
“A ninja…of death!” the emcee fixed. Bert gave up; he got applause but not enough.
“Columbia and Magenta, the squeaky lesbian and her girlfriend.” Megan and I were up next, so we stepped forward and I made a big deal out of her using the blow dryer on my boob as a sex toy. We received applause from cast and regulars, but the many ‘virgins’ inevitably present at the Halloween show didn’t get it, so we were eliminated.
Kim did okay with the Bo-Beep outfit, so she stayed in, as did Tim and April. Dale and Jane received considerable applause and stayed in too.
“Torgo,” the Emcee announced.
Keith had a cult-style response: about 20% of the audience went crazy, and the other 80% didn’t get it. “The…MASTER…will molest your… GIRLfriends now,” he said, waving a shaky hand at the audience as he made his way back toward us.
Round 2 eliminated Kimmy, while the other four survived. It was down to a Goku from Dragonball Z, a crew of about 10 that had dressed up as the Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters, a Harry Potter, and our two pairs.
The emcee talked with them a bit before the third round.
“Goku no Dragonball Z,” he finally called as Goku came forward. Goku gave a loud battle cry and did some martial art moves, and the crowd went wild.
When things calmed down, the emcee announced “Buffy, 'Xander, Willow, Tarra, Giles, Oz, Jonathan and Cordelia.” Again there was a lot of cheering.
For Dale and Jane, the Emcee let them pose first, so the audience was already clapping when he yelled over them, “Norman Rockwell’s American Goth.” Cheering got louder while Megan kvetched next to me about it not being one of Rockwell’s works.
“Harry Potter,” the emcee called next. Harry moved to the stage, pulled a wand out and flicked it over the crowd. “Ego Amortentia!” he cried. As applause started, Megan jumped from her seat, ran up front, and wrapped herself around and French kissed the very startled Harry Potter. The kissing got more applause, and when they finally came up for air Harry yelled, “Great flying butterbeers! My charm spell worked!” The crowd went absolutely nuts.
When the crowd finally settled down, he kept Megan with him. I took the opportunity to bitch loudly, “You could at least have left me the hair dryer,” which Megan was still carrying; I got a few laughs. She offered it to Harry, who looked confused.
“Last up, we have Hack, the white Shaft,” the emcee was finally able to continue.
Tim and April took center stage and Tim bellowed his line. “Hack!” I yelled along with some of our crew; some of the other audience members yelled “Shaft!”, and a lot of people followed it up with “Can you dig it?” There was applause but less than the others received.
As it quieted down, Megan made a project of getting free from Harry. “I’m sorry Harry, but you’re just a wizard. He’s Hack!” she said, planting herself on Tim’s other arm. Tim tried to look nonchalant about it, like he always had women throwing themselves at him.
Harry stepped forward. “Women. What can you do?” After a second he made a gesture of surprise and said, “Oh yeah. Obliviate!” he yelled, pointing his wand at his own head. He looked dumbfounded, then asked, “Where the hell am I?” and looked around confused. “Why are there half-naked people running around in lingerie?” There was more laughter from the impromptu scene; meanwhile the emcee had been consulting with the cast.
“Third Place: Goku from Dragonball Z,” he called and handed over a prize while Goku’s fans celebrated his win.
“Second place: American Goth.” We cheered for their win.
“And the winner of the grand prize $100 gift certificate to Adult Planet goes to…” The cast drum-rolled on their laps and the audience joined in. “Harry Potter!”
It was a fair win; he really did look amazingly like Harry Potter from the movies. After he collected his prize, Megan dragged him back to join us.

After the show, we gathered outside the theatre to decide what to do next. A group of Mystery Science Theatre fans started talking with Keith about his costume, suggesting he’d been robbed and wondering how he was doing the music. Megan took Harry aside and was talking with him, so I made small talk with Kim.
“Did you have fun?”
“This movie is very weird. You guys are weird. But yes, I had fun.”
“I’m glad. I was surprised to see you join us. I didn’t think this would be your thing.”
“Well…I couldn’t go to bed anyway, because you weren’t be there, so…”
Checking no one was close, I said quietly, “Maybe you should keep a few you-know-what in your room. Just in case we’re not around?”
She looked at me as if I’d said something hurtful, but nodded. “I’m sorry to impose on you,” she said and looked down.
“You’re not imposing… You’re…” I paused to choose my words. “You’re more mainstream than the rest of us, so it surprises me you want to hang with us. But it’s not a problem.”
“I’m not in the way?” she said, looking up at me again.
“No, of course not. You’re sweet.” She looked a bit shocked at the statement, and her mouth opened and closed a few times but she didn’t say anything. I figured out what she was thinking, so I clarified, “In a sisterly kind of way. You’re like a younger sister.” She thought on that, and seemed to accept it.
We wound up going out for food with the Rocky cast, several of the regulars, and a few of the other costumed folks. Megan spent the time chatting with Harry, who she introduced to me as Paul; I felt jealous of the way she was flirting with him. I was bushed from the effort I’d put in during the week, so I closed my eyes and rested against Keith while waiting for my sandwich melt; it was way past Kim’s bed time, so she did the same thing to me.
As we made it back to the floor, I asked Megan, “Sleepover?”
“Of course,” she said, giving me a quick kiss. “I’ll be in after I take off make-up?”
“See you soon.” I felt some of my worry and jealousy dissipate.
I got my bucket and went to get ready for bed. When I returned, I walked in on Kim, who seemed to have just finished pulling up her brief. “Oh, sorry,” I said, closing the door.
About a half minute later, she opened the door, now decent. “Good night, Lisa,” she said before stopping, looking at me a moment, and finally giving me a hug. “Thanks for watching out for me, big sis.”
“You’re welcome, little sis,” I said, thinking about what had just happened as Kim walked away.
I was startled from my thoughts as Megan hugged me from behind. “Ready for bed?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said on auto-pilot before correcting, “Just dilation, god dammit.” I really wanted sleep. I got out the necessary tools and got started.

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 18

Another two excellent chapters, keep up the good work

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 18

Yay more! It is a little odd, but I like it.

Robertson hall, ch 19-31

Transliterating posts from my word processor to the forum is kind of a pain and takes up too much time. I’ve been way too busy lately to find time to post anyway. Then I don’t get that much feedback that’s specific enough to induce much editing. So… cross fingers that I don’t need to do a major retcon Season’s Greetings everyone. There are PDF and ePub formats of Robertson Hall, plus another story in which Heather and Sue first appear.

Critique is still definitely welcomed here. Work on spring semester is progressing very slowly as I’m trying to develop the characters more distinctly, plus I’m rebuffering because there there probably will be continuity adjustments that need to be made within the semester as it develops. So that’s a roundabout way of saying, it’s probably going to be a while before the next chapter, the start of spring semester. Enjoy!

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 31

please more story.

Re: Robertson hall, ch 13 ~ 31

A solid solid in my book, you seem to have a knack for making it flow well, and I will patiently wait to see where the storyline goes in the long run.