"Honey, I'm home!" Qila whispered tiredly. She leaned on the door while she removed her shoes.

The 'honey, I'm home!' was a private joke with herself. There was nobody waiting for her. She lived alone at the attic flat. She was alone in the world when her mother died seven years ago.

Seven years ago...

Qila was sixteen years old. A young college student who was orphaned. Her mother had no parents. Her father was unknown. She did not ask her mother of family history because she would be met by a wall of silence.

The silence would last a week or more. As Qila grew older, she worried about her mother's mental health. When her mother died, about half a dozen insurance people talked to her.

"Miss Arrow, your mother had insured herself for a hundred thousand pesos."

"Miss Arrow, as Mrs. Arrow's beneficiary, you will get near to a hundred thousand pesos."

"Miss Arrow, your mother had paid for a hundred-thousand-peso insurance and a free burial..."

Qila's head spun when she heard their news. The total benefits she had received from the insurance companies were several hundred thousand pesos! Almost a million pesos!

Since one company had offered free burial, Qila decided to bury her mother right away. They had no relatives. Her mother was an orphan, too.

Qila went to school. She took up computer engineering. During college, she had been with two boyfriends very briefly. She booted them out because of kissing and sex issues.

Marlon was a sloppy kisser. He slobbered and dribbled while kissing her.

"Qila honey, you're so sweet!" Marlon groaned while Qila pushed him away to wipe her mouth.

"Out! Out!" Qila screamed with frustration. She did not want to swallow his saliva every time they kissed so she slapped him and kicked him out.

"Why, Qila? I just want to kiss you! Nothing more! Promise!" Marlon was bewildered.

"Oh, Marlon! Study first, okay? Goodbye!"

Herman passed the kissing test but he was too fast. He wanted to have sex with Qila and to live with her.

"Let's have sex, baby! Let's live together!"

"No! Definitely not!" Qila replied vehemently. She pushed him out of her room.

Herman was the last man in her life. If he asked her to marry, she doubted that she would say 'yes.'

Qila discovered herself as too fastidious and finicky. She did not want a sloppy man. Herman often wore shirt and jeans that were smelly. His hair was fashionably long but too sticky. It seemed he seldom took a bath.

"I guess I am looking for a dream man!" Qila grumbled as she stood naked in front of the mirror.

Her muscles were toned because of her day-long stay at the gym every Saturday. Qila was part-time physical instructor.

Her body was slender. Her breasts were almost non-existent when she wore a loose shirt or jacket although naked, she was full-breasted.

She graduated from college two years ago. At twenty-three, she worked as an encoder at the Pendragon Company. She planned to look for another post next year.

Her immediate boss was a lunatic. Abigor Limrick gave her tons of papers to encode. Only her. There were so many encoders but he chose to use just her.

"Our boss has a crush on you, Qila!" Dollie teased her.

"Or maybe, he hates me!" Qila muttered dolefully. She arranged the folders neatly on her desk.

The result, every night she would go home exhausted and listless. She would stare at the computer screen all day while her fingers flew all over the keyboard. Her only compensation was her typing went faster and nippier.

While waiting for the water heater to warm the water in the bath tub, she studied herself absently. Her face was not pretty. She had a pert nose. Her cheeks and jaws were too bony. She had large eyes and a wide mouth. Her lips were sensuously full.

But she did not see all of these. Qila saw herself as frumpy and plain.

When Qila was young, she had bangs and long curly hair. She hid her face behind her hair. She had zero self-confidence at that age.

What built her self-esteem? Money.

Money gave Qila the confidence to show her face. She was not showy but a half of the insurance money was deposited at several banks.

Ever since she had a job, she saved all the money she earned. She never splurged for herself. She learned her lesson well from her late mother.

"Never trust a man. He'd teach you to be dependent. He would snatch away your consciousness. And when you're crazily in loved with him, he'd kick himself out of your life!" Wendy ranted once. She arrived home one night drunk as a skunk. She accused all men as abusers of weak women.

That night was never repeated, but the accusation of Wendy against all men wedged on Qila's mind. They remained in her subconscious mind as she grew older.

Qila presumed that the man was her father. She never knew his name. She never knew what kind of abuse did her mother receive...

"Poor Mom!" she murmured softly. Whenever she thought of her mother, she was overwhelmed with pity and sympathy.

Wendy was a young mother. She had Qila at eighteen or seventeen. She died young, too. She was in her early thirties.

Qila did not know where her mother got the money to pay for the insurances but she was very grateful.

'Thank you, Mom! Wherever you are...'

As she submerged her aching body to the lukewarm water in the small bath tub, she closed her eyes. It was big enough to let her sit while wallowing in the foamy warmth. She savored the sensation of invisible arms embracing her tenderly.

Qila felt no desire to have a boyfriend again.

"What about a girlfriend?" Qila mulled while soaping herself. "Maybe, you desire a woman, Qila Arrow!"

She decided to try pursuing a woman.

She thought for a while. At the office, Qila was often invited by office mates to go out every weekend. She declined without offering any reason but, that Saturday night, she texted Dollie.

'Dollie, may I join the gang?'

"Who is this?" Dollie called Qila, wanting to be sure. "Qila, you really want to join tonight?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Qila! Of course! Of course! Wait 'til I tell the others!" Dollie shrieked with excitement.

When the line was cut, Qila was bombarded with second thoughts but she killed them. She had decided to try the night life with an all-girls group.

Qila dressed carefully. She wanted to appear lady-like but with a masculine appeal.

"How do I look?" she asked when Dollie red mouth formed a big 'O' upon seeing her

"Wow! I mean, wow!" Dollie walked around her slowly. She scrutinized her over-all outfit. "What are you tonight, Qila?" she wondered breathlessly.

She wore black pants and black jacket. Both were body-fit. She opened her jacket daringly. She showed her cleavage. Her make-up created her mysterious eyes and red vampire lips.

"What do you think?" Qila murmured teasingly.

"A dominatrix?"

A brow arched upward. "I don't have a whip," she quipped provocatively.

"Ooh, don't worry! I have several in my car! Shall we go?" Dollie batted her false eyelashes.

"This one's my favorite 'cause it's short with a flat end. It's a spot-on when hitting my zones," she giggled maliciously. While Dollie was driving, she showed her collection of whips.

Qila just nodded. She was stunned by the menacing sight of the whips with different sizes and shapes.

Dollie paired with Qila all evening. She went with the flow, drinking sparingly and flirting subtly. She was evaluating her reactions to Dollie.

"Qila darlin', we will go to my place tonight. I have all the toys we will need there," Dollie whispered drunkenly. She tried to kiss Qila on the mouth.

Qila did not answer and kept herself at arm's length. She had no wish to be intimate in public. Public display of affection was big no-no to her.

The others had their own conversations. They sipped their wine and kissed one other. They were all females and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Qila watched silently. She had no bad impression against gay people. She just accepted them as they were although she did not see herself as one of them...

'Maybe, I am hermaphrodite!' she told herself while trying to imagine what it felt kissing a woman.

While Qila was busy thinking, she was not aware of a pair of fierce eyes watching her...

'I want her...!'

He was in the shadows. He nursed a glass of whisky that never came near his lips. He abhorred alcohol because, well, because he hated the taste.

But he knew how she would taste when he kissed her...

Sweet. Those lips were made for kissing!

A bit tangy. A bit spicy. She had an aura of a warrior. Those candid brown eyes could look into a man and strip him of his manhood.

He would enjoy taming her. His own sweet, little warrior...!