Chapter One

Playing Roles

 

"Yes, sir," Melanie spoke quickly into the headset. "I understand what you're saying."

"No, you don't!" the man snapped at her from the other side of phone connection. "If you understood, you wouldn't be doing this! How am I supposed to put food on the table for my kids?"

"Sir, I'm sorry that you're having financial problems," she sighed as she spoke. "But the Court Order entitles us to garnish your bank account up to the outstanding balance on-"

"I need that money!" he cut her off. "I have checks out that are going to bounce now. I'll set up a payment plan with you to get this paid off, but you can't have all the money in my bank account. Most of it wasn't even my money. My brother deposited his student loan money in there. You're allowed to take his money, too?"

Melanie winced. This was one of her least favorite parts about the job. What she wanted to tell him was that, no, they weren't entitled to keep the money that belonged to his brother. To get it back, all he had to do was file a motion with the Court. Hire a lawyer, she yearned to tell him. You'll get most of it back.

"Sir, I can't give you legal advice," she told him instead, towing the company line. The call was being recorded. Her supervisor might even be listening in at this moment. "We are simply acting on the Court Order to garnish your bank account. If you have a legal defense to our taking of the funds, you'll have to take that up with the Court."

"How long will that take?" he asked. "I need that money now."

"I'm not a lawyer, sir," she responded. "You would have to talk to an attorney or the Court to find out when they can schedule a hearing."

"I can't wait for a hearing!" he cried out into the phone. "You have to give me back my money!"

"I can't do that, sir," she replied. She kept her voice calm, though all she wanted to do was hang up the phone and walk to her car, never to return.

"Then let me talk to someone who can!" he demanded.

"One moment," she answered. "I'll transfer you to my supervisor."

Melanie put the call on hold and notated the account with the basics from the conversation. She breathed a sigh of relief as she transferred the call to Rick, glad not to have to listen to the angry debtor any longer. Most of the time, she told herself, the job was really not that bad. Calling people to try and collect money from them was not a rewarding or glamorous line of work, but it paid the bills well enough to support school by day. At moments like this one, however, when she had to deal directly with the impact that her work had on real people with families, she hated herself.

Turning on her auto-dialer, she let it begin its search through the seemingly endless list of people who owed the company money. When it found another live body for her to talk to, she would get an alert. While she waited, Melanie turned her attention to the flashing icon at the bottom of her computer screen. She had received messages while she was on the call. Technically, she was not supposed to be logged into the instant messaging service while on the clock. The policy was not enforced, however. Her department supervisor recognized that there was down time between calls and did not really care what she and the other collectors did during it. As long as their collection numbers were on track each month, he paid no mind to them as the other employees prowled Facebook or Netflix. Melanie's distraction of choice was the messenger service.

She clicked on the icon, bringing the message window back up in front of her. She had three messages from her contact list and one from an unknown. A smile touched her lips as she saw that she had one from him. Forcing herself to wait, she went through the other three first. The unknown sender, whose handle turned out to be 'masterofall' had cleverly managed to ask three vital questions while only using three letters and a question mark: 'asl?'. It was, she knew, a common internet convention that stood for age, sex, and location. She appreciated that the poor man was probably just saving himself the effort of typing out whole words. Experience, however, told her that men who thought this was an appropriate introductory greeting were usually looking for very different things than she was.

Despite this knowledge, and the likelihood that continued contact would be futile, she decided to give him a chance. After all, she had met a few people worth chatting with who started in this same way. She typed her response, hoping that the style of it would prompt something more from him.

 

melanie_sought: Hi there. Thanks for reaching out to me. I'm a 24 year old woman and I live in Pittsburgh. I am 5'3", 115 pounds, with an athletic body. I'm a runner. I have green eyes and wavy magenta hair that comes down a little past my shoulders. Oh, and I have b cup breasts.

 

Even after her long experience with the virtual world, it still felt strange to provide this sort of information about herself up front to complete strangers. He had not asked for her to describe herself, but it was a pre-emptive move. She knew the request would be forthcoming. Since she had provided that, he quickly jumped to the next on the standard-issue list. She often wondered if there actually was a list out there somewhere that was distributed to guys when they opened their accounts.

 

masterofall: do u cam?

 

melanie_sought: No, I don't. It really doesn't fit with why I come online. I am here strictly to roleplay fantasies that I can't effectively act out in the real world. Sorry.

 

The answer was not entirely true. There were a few people with whom she had shared some online webcam sessions. Those times had only come after she had reached a level of comfort with the person and believed that the added visual element would enhance the experience. Most people who were looking for camera time up front were not people that shared her desires.

 

masterofall: what is that?

 

The response was not unexpected, and it told her everything that she needed to know. The messenger service was not specifically catered to only those who were looking for roleplay. In fact, she had come to find that most of its members were just looking for girls who would spend a little time naked in front of a camera for them. She had spent hours crafting a profile that listed all of the things she liked and answered many of the questions that 'masterofall' was asking. Unfortunately, most people who reached out to her had never bothered to read it. Still, just because he had never been exposed to the joys of roleplaying did not mean that he might not appreciate them. She gave him a brief overview.

 

melanie_sought: Roleplaying is like a game of the imagination or a story co-written by two people. My partner and I make up a scene and decide on what will be involved in the scene. We decide who I am and where I am, with some loose guidelines for what will happen to me. Then we take turns writing our parts of the story to each other. My favorite scenes are ones where I am kidnapped and kept in bondage against my will.

 

Expecting not to hear from that "master" again, Melanie went on to the next in her pending queue. It was from 'metrophillydom.' The two of them had been chatting online for a few years. In the beginning, their roleplaying sessions had been amazing. She smiled at the memory. He was always so incredibly detailed and explicit. Her toes curled at the mental images of the long-lasting scene they had played out where she was being interrogated by Homeland Security for alleged terrorist activity. As they had typed their messages back and forth to each other, the scene had come alive in her mind. It had been so vivid that she still flashed back to it in her mind at night when she was alone in her bed.

Unfortunately, things had gradually changed with him. He had started by asking her to perform tasks for him while they played. In the beginning, it had been fun and exciting. He would have her dress in certain ways in preparation for the scenes, usually matching whatever her character was wearing. He would stop play and have her do a quick series of calisthenics or carve an onion so that her eyes would tear up. At first, the interruptions had been brief and, she had to admit, they had definitely helped her dive deeper into her role.

Over time, though, the real life demands had come to almost completely replace the online ones. He had seemed to lose interest in their previous games and only wanted to play with her when she was able to act them out in the real world, too. Melanie had made the mistake, she realized now, of sending him some pictures of her state in a few of their scenes. The pictures themselves had been innocent enough; a shot of her face with tears and mascara running down her cheeks from the onions and some pictures of the skirt and boots he liked so much. But now, he wanted pictures of everything. More than that, he was desperate for her to play with him while the webcam was rolling. Her reluctance to take that step had put a strain on their previously wonderful relationship.

Even now, when Melanie clicked open his message, she saw that it was more of the same. He wanted to know if she was at home or work. Before, he had been more than willing to play out parts of their scenes while she was logged in at the office. He had always been accepting of the lags that would occur when the dialer connected and she had to speak with someone. He had even gone so far as to claim that it turned him on to think of her having these racy chats while surrounded by cubicles of fellow co-workers.

Those days were gone now. When she responded that she was at work, the immediate question came back to ask when she would be home. She would not be home until after her shift at eleven, of course, which she told him. He wanted to know if she would be online then. In the past, she would have stayed up long into the night with him, sacrificing a good night's sleep before her early morning classes in order to capture the excitement that he always brought her. She responded that she would try, but that she was pretty tired. She was not surprised when he logged off.

"Hello. Is someone there?" the voice suddenly spoke in Melanie's earpiece.

"Yes, I'm here. Before I begin I have to tell you that I am calling on behalf of a debt collector in an attempt to collect a debt," Melanie's voice went on autopilot as she opened the collection screen to see the debtor's name. "Is this Natalie Cameron?"

"Yes," the woman replied, her voice hesitant.

"Hi, Natalie," Melanie continued. "I'm calling about your past-due credit card account with-"

"I know what you're calling about," the woman cut her off. "I'm sorry, but I just don't have anything to pay you. I'm just a cashier. I can barely pay my rent."

"I understand," Melanie responded, putting on her most sympathetic voice. "These are tough times for everyone. If you could just set up a good faith payment, I can help you. Can you afford, say, fifty dollars?"

The call ended with a click, another not too uncommon occurrence. Melanie turned her attention back to the messenger service as she set the auto-dialer back to work. The third message was from 'jesterkeeper', a humorous contact across the pond in England. He was one of the few non-roleplaying relationships that she fostered. Their chats were always the same. He claimed to own a large piece of property on the outskirts of London. He would tell her all about the many bondage implements that were contained within his house and set up in the woods around it. She did not know if any of it was true, but that did not matter. It was just fun to sit back and hear about all of the many things he would do to her if she ever found herself on his property.

Melanie's heart beat a little more quickly as she opened the fourth and final message.