FINALLY. Yes. Let's do this.

The Quarter Finals is Chase's big test. His opponent is an Italian player ranked number 4 in the world.

THIS IS IT.

Your cute tennis outfit is a half-inch shorter than normal, and you're sure that Chase can see your naked buns when you lean over to dust off the seat before you sit down. The skirt flips up and you discover you're sitting on the bare plastic chair.

"Shit, is that Kim Kardashian?" you ask.

"Yes. Lots of celebrities come for the final matches."

You are sitting in Chase's box. In addition to you and Mrs. Chamberlain, there are his two coaches, his orthopedist, his psychologist and a merchandising and promotions representative from Nike.

You feel out-of-place.

It starts off well. Chase breaks the Italian's serve in the first set, then holds in the second set and wins in a tiebreaker.

Two sets to none. Chase has to win just one more.

But then, disaster! The Italian breaks Chase TWICE and wins the third set, EASILY (!!!) winning the set 6-2!

Suddenly, the tension ramps up. To ELEVEN.

The players take a 2-minute break.

"If he doesn't win this quarterfinal," Mrs. Chamberlain says, looking you in the eye, "I'm afraid that I will have to ask you to leave."

"Leave?" you ask, shocked. "What do you mean?"

"I know your goal is to marry Chase, and I support that. But if you can't motivate him to win a simple US Open Quarterfinal, then I'm afraid I will have to look for someone else."

"You can't..." you say, shocked.

"I can and I will."

You look over at Chase who is choosing his next racket. He looks up at you and can tell that something is wrong. Your eyes are wide and you're breathing hard.

The deadline is just a week away. If Chase loses... then this year of surgery, chasing after men, and submitting to the instructions and punishment of Mrs. Chamberlain will have ALL BEEN FOR NOTHING.

"I LOVE YOU CHASE!" you jump up and shout at the top of your lungs.

It's the first time you've said it. After all this time together. Chase looks up at you, eyes wide. The entire stadium looks over you and snickers at the love-struck girlfriend.

You feel heart beat hard in your chest.

'You can do this, Chase,' you think to yourself. 'Please... you can do this!!'

But again, it doesn't start out well. Chase is broken almost immediately. It's like the Italian has found some sort of weakness in Chase's after-serve. The two go back and forth and finally Chase is able to break the Italian and then there's the tiebreaker which goes for 10 match points before...

Chase loses on an incredible, lucky, behind-the-back shot by the Italian.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Now they're tied, 2 sets to 2.

'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,' you think to yourself, your stomach in knots. "Come on, Chase, Come on...."

Just then, the vibrator goes off.

"I want to fuck you, Chase," you say.

Unfortunately, it was one of those moment when the entire stadium was quiet, so everyone can hear you. A ripple of snorting and laughter waves through the stadium.

Chase looks around, seeing everyone laughing at you, as people as each other - 'what did she say?' Then he looks at you, and sees you blushing bright, bright red.

He knows, of course. He knows all about the vibrator.

He knows that you don't have a choice. That you're just following his mother's orders. He knows that whenever the vibrator goes off on its "Random Simmer" setting, you have to tell him whatever is your catch-phrase for the day.

He KNOWS.

And now he is FUCKING MAD.

ACE!

Fuck! That was fast! You look over at the speed gun. It was over 150 miles per hour!! A gasp goes through the stadium.

As the match continues, you begin to get a sense of what's happened,

Chase has had a reputation of poor conditioning. You'd overheard people talking about it during prior matches. Everyone thought he was a good player, but he didn't have the stamina to keep up.

And of course the Italian knew this. So he purposely lost the first two matches, saving as much energy as possible, just returning as many shots as he could, but not putting anything on them. And then, once Chase was tired, he'd just amp up the game and close out Chase in the last three sets.

But over the last several months, thanks to your cock-sucking and titty fucking rewards, Chase had increased his conditioning to elite levels.

So he now had the body. The body to win.

All he needed was the determination. And now he had that two.

Eight games later and it was all over.

And on the last point, Chase looks over at you and stares you in the eyes.

"I love you too," he mouths.

And then serves an ace to put the game away.

"OH MY GOD, CHASE!! OH MY GOD!! YOU DID IT!!"

In the player's room, you run, giddy into his arms and you hug. You feel his hard cock poking you in the stomach through his clothes. "I can't believe it! You just beat the #4 player in the world! This is so amazing!!"

"I couldn't have done it without you," he says, pulling you into a long, deep kiss and thrusting his tongue deep into your mouth. His kiss is passionate and urgent. "The massage table's over here," he grins, nodding to a closed room on the side.

"Oh GOD," you say, your eyes heavy lidded. "I am SO horny," you whisper. "I need this SO bad. It has been too long."

"Let's go."

"Mrs. Chamberlain?" you ask.

"What?" she asks, looking at you both, with a neutral expression.

"I need... uh..." you lean in and whisper, "the key."

"The key?" she asks, with an innocent look.

"You know..." you say, "the key to my... <chastity panties>," you whisper.

"I'm sorry, but no key."

"What... what do you mean, no key? Don't... don't you have it?"

"Oh, I have it, but I am not giving it to you. No key."

"What do you mean, NO KEY?" Chase asks, heating up. "I just won the quarter-fucking-finals of the US Open!! You promised!!"

"Yes, and now you have two days before the semi-finals! The match is not over!" says his mother.

"But that's in two days! We need the key NOW!"

"NO KEY," Mrs. Chamberlain says, defiantly. "THE MATCH IS NOT OVER. If I give you the key, you'll have no motivation to win the semis."

"YOU PROMISED!" Chase shouts. Other players and families in the room are now staring at you. "GIVE ME THE FUCKING KEY, NOW!"

"NO!" Mrs. Chamberlain shouts back, standing her ground.

"FUCK THIS, FUCK YOU, FUCK THIS WHOLE FUCKING MIND-GAME SHIT!!" Chase shouts. "I'M DONE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I AM FUCKING DONE!!"

Chase storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

You move to run after him, but Mrs. Chamberlain grasps your wrist.

"Don't," she says. "You don't know Chase like I do. He needs this."

"You're a monster," you say, running after him.

"She's always been like this," Chase says. "A real tiger Mom. Always pushing. Never happy. Never satisfied. Always prodding me to the next level. I hate it. I've always hated it."The two of you are walking, hand in hand, around Meadow lake, part of the park system in Flushing, NY which contains the stadium. You can hear cars rushing past on Interstate-678.

"Of course, when Dad died, he left her with nothing, and we've both had to live off my winnings from Tennis, but now I'm done. I want to leave her, get married, and live my life with you, Jennifer."

"Are you... are you asking me to marry you?" you ask.

"I... I guess I am."

Chase kneels before you.

"Will you, Jennifer, run away with me and marry me?"

"OH MY GOD, CHASE!!" You shout, putting your hands over your mouth.

It's finally happened! Someone has asked to marry you! And just in time, for the week after next is the deadline according to Jack Hewitt's will!