Wonderful story, beautifully written! Just wondering though...I used the link to visit the story it was based on, but the story was cut off early, and I couldn't learn what the name of the story was. Can anyone point me to a full version of the original story?

Thank you, Mark. I'm glad you enjoyed. I've condensed my chapters and added an epilogue, and it's filed in the archive as “Boarding School: Mattie's Story” along with the original author's work. Many thanks to Paolo for walking me through the whole process of posting, as I did seem to encounter a good deal of confusion along the way.

As I've said, I enjoyed the original for its subtlety and originality. But I was put off by a sense of mean-spriritedness toward the end. Here, I've tried to turn some of the standard plot devices on their heads. So we have a sexually invasive medical exam that's not sexually invasive. A rape scene that ends not in rape but in rescue. The pronouns change from “he” to “she” right at the time of her sexual awakening. Things like that.

What is perhaps the oldest of cliches does remain, it's true: “Weak little me and my big, strong man.” But that's the stuff of romance novels, I suppose. Nothing like a a good, old-fashioned ravishing to brighten up a girl's day!

And the character of Mattie is very much drawn from the original author's vision. She seems to be someone speaking with the perspective of time, which helps us see ourselves from the outside more easily than we might in the here and now. Thus Mattie's little asides -- “gasping out his name and god knows what else,” to cite just one – in an effort to show that she has done some reflecting on her life.

If the epilogue seems to be a bit mushy, well, I'm sorry. That's the part that's most autobiographical, really, about finding one's true love and learning to appreciate what matters most. Although a bit of my life with Michael (my husband) does appear in Jim: the thoughtfulness, the insight. The sense that there is someone special within. Believe me, there is nothing sexier than a man who THINKS.

Some of his playfulness is there, too. I used the nom de... plume? Web?... “Clitty Woman” because that's the song Michael sings to me, substituting a word in Roy Orbison's classic. It's become a running joke between us, Michael belting out a tune and me pretending to be indignant. That's sexy too, I think: a man who is plainly at ease, with himself and the world around him. The muscles and the conspicuous bulge are all fun toys to play with, but it's the quiet confidence and the gentle humor that make me melt.

The last line I wrote is most certainly from my own heart. I stumbled across this site by accident – Google is a wonderful thing, isn't it? -- but I quickly came to see what a special space this is. I sense the presence of many, many thoughtful people here. And although many are struggling with a burden, I wanted you to know that good wishes go with you.

Much love,

Ceecie