Marcie slid out of bed and picked up her robe. Wrapping its warm towelling folds around
her naked body she hurried into the ensuite bathroom.
Marcie hurried to most places. She was a busy young woman, kept on the go by her high-
pressure marketing job.
She stood under the shower, thinking of her latest assignment as she soaped herself.
As usual, she also thought about her constant diet and fitness campaign as she showered,
trying to assess with her soapy fingers whether the troublesome little bulge of her tummy
was in fact disappearing. She had recently changed her exercise routine to deal with that
particular flaw in her appearance, although in truth, nobody but Marcie was aware of it.
Marcie dressed carefully as always. She had always favored skimpy underwear, but had
recently bought some white, full cut briefs. The purchase was a bit of a departure for her,
but she had decided that comfort came ahead of sexy looks, and who was looking anyway?
Her last boyfriend had departed a few months ago, and she found the new briefs warm and
comfortable in the brisk winter weather.
After pulling on a pair of tan slacks and a knitted top over her bra, and tidying her long
blond hair, she checked herself in the big mirror in the bedroom, said goodbye to Tommy,
her tortoiseshell cat, and stepped into the hall.
Mrs Blavatsky, the old lady who lived in the back apartment at the end of the passage, was
returning from her morning walk, and smiled at Marcie as the young woman emerged from
Marcie stopped in mid-rush, and smiled back at the old woman, then followed her into her
musty apartment as she had for the last few mornings. She emerged a few minutes later,
blinking in the relatively bright light of the hallway.
It was unlike Marcie to allow a break in her carefully timed progress to her office, but she
had begun to allow a few extra minutes for her brief sojourns in Mrs Blavatsky's dim
apartment. Marcie never missed the few minutes, nor in fact did she remember her visits
to the elderly woman's apartment. All she thought of on this particular morning, as she
stood in the hallway looking at her watch, was that she had no time to lose. She adjusted
the top of her slacks, and discovered that the zipper at the side of the garment was
undone. She pulled up the zipper, and with her thumb and forefinger snugged both her
underwear and her slacks up around her loins, and hurried to the carpark.
In her dark rooms, Mrs Blavatsky smiled again. She was glad the pretty young woman was
taking her advice, and was gratified by the pleasure Marcie had taken in slipping down her
slacks and showing her that she had bought and was wearing her new, white full briefs.
Returning that evening to her home, Marcie made herself dinner, watched a little TV, and
retired to bed.
She decided, for a change, to wear another pair of white briefs to bed. Slipping between
the sheets, she got comfortable and picked up her bedtime reading from the little table
beside the big bed. She rolled onto her side, and felt something cold against her hip.
Wondering, Marcie pulled back the bedclothes, and looked at the bottom sheet. There was
a plate-sized dark, damp patch there.
Marcie furrowed her brow, and looked through the doorway at her plump cat, now asleep
as usual in his basket in the living area.
She didn't wake the cat, but felt annoyed that he had taken to getting into her bed during
the day, and wetting it, what's more. Damn cat, she thought, as she removed the stained
sheet, why can't he use his tray? Marcie swabbed the damp mattress with the powder she
soaked her underwear in, and turned the mattress. Damn cat.