Apologize to Rebecca.

"Well, well, well," said Rebecca. "Look at what scrawny thing the cat dragged in. The Bra and Panty Thief."

"I'm sorry, Rebecca," you say, humbly. "I... I don't know what came over me. I apologize. Here, you can have your bra back."

"Nuh, uhn. I am not accepting your apology or taking back the bra until you tell me what you did with it. Why did you take it?"

"I d-d-d-don't know?" you stammer. "I, uh, just wanted it?"

"Oh no, you're not getting off that easy. I want details. What did you do with our lingerie, exactly?'

"Uh..." you stare at her with wide eyes, feeling the heat in your face rise. "Um..."

"Did you take it to bed with you? Tell the truth!"

You toe the ground, more ashamed than you have ever felt.

"Yes," you whisper.

"What was that? Speak up?"

"Yes," you say, louder.

"Yes, what?"

"Please, Becca!"

"Don't 'Please Becca' me! Yes what did you do?"

"Yes, I took them to bed with me," you admit. Your face is getting redder and redder.

"And then, what did you do? Did you stroke them across your body?"

"No!"

"Really? You just took them to bed and then did nothing to them? Didn't you feel them? Stroke them across your face? Tell the truth."

"Yes," you admit.

"Yes what?" Rebecca asks, mercilessly.

"Yes, I felt them and stroked them across my body," you say.

"Just your face? Or also your breasts?"

"Just my face!"

"Are you sure? You never placed them over your breasts, wondering what they felt like?"

"No! I just smelled them!"

"Are you sure?"

Rebecca's eyes bore into you.

"Yes," you say. "I'm sure."

"Ha, I don't believe you. I think you put them on. Did you? Did you put them on and feel your nipples through the bra cups?"

"No..." But your voice comes out all quavery with a little bit of a lilt at the end.

"HA! You DID, didn't you! You put them on! Tell the truth, Paul! Unburden your soul!"

Where is a big hole in the ground when you need one? You wonder, desperately, to yourself. Your face is now bright red and your scalp itches you are so flushed with humiliation.

"Yes," you finally admit. "I put them on."

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Rebecca says. "Telling the truth feels good, doesn't it?"

"No, it doesn't," you say, sourly.

"Oh, Paulie," Rebecca comes over and pulls you into a warm hug, pressing your chest against her breasts. "Everything's okay. Now that you've told the truth, that you stole my bra and then fondled it and wore it while masturbating, all is forgiven."

"I never said I masturbated with it!" you respond hotly.

"Didn't you?"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck. You pause for a long time. The word 'masturbate' is so clinical. So shameful.

"Okay yes," you finally admit. "I masturbated with your bra."

"Pervert."

"Sorry."

"Apology accepted."

Rebecca walks over to her bureau where you notice her phone for the first time has been recording the entire conversation.

"I'm adding this to "Paul's Shame" shared folder, she says. "You may go now."