Susie In The Midnight Sun- Part 1

Susie Brock had just graduated from Harvard, at the relatively young age of 20, and she decided to celebrate her academic success by visiting Europe during the summer. She had been thinking about what country to see, having already seen the usual spots- France, Italy, etc. 

The question ended in her head when she heard that Led Zeppelin song "Immigrant's Song" again, which definitely applied to her, she thought, and noticed the following words, "I come from the land of the midnight sun". Susie vaguely remembered hearing something about that being true about Norway, and she thought that would be a great thing to see. True, that country was quite close to the Arctic Circle, and therefore, frigid, but the idea of seeing the sun when one expects the moon was just too great to pass up.

She got everything together, passport, visa, travelers' checks, etc., and headed to the airport, with some nervousness as usual, due to the increased security of the anti-terrorist measures, and was relieved when she got through with little difficulty, since no one feared trouble from a young Englishwoman.

When she arrived in Oslo, the capital of Norway, she headed straight to her friend Carrie's house. Carrie Mackenzie was her grade school best friend, who had married a Scotsman and moved with him to Norway, due to his work with the EU. Fergus Mackenzie was not your standard Eurocrat, with bowler hat, umbrella, etc. He still looked very much the Scot, except for the bagpipes and kilt, of course.

"Susie, dear, you're really here! Well, I feared that you'd back out, since I've been trying to get you to visit me for some time now. It's lovely to see you here, darling.", Carrie told her. 

Susie, of course, was quite happy to see Carrie, and she definitely liked that her friend and her husband were so willing to take her in for a few days. Carrie looked much different, of course, having grown from a nerdy, scrawny schoolgirl to a plump, but still attractive woman.

After settling in for the night, Susie went out the next day to see the local pubs, not expecting any trouble over her age. The bartenders weren't likely to fuss about ID, like they did in a college town in Massachusetts, for example.

At the pub, on the stool next to hers, was a tall, lean, quite muscular fellow, who was busy drinking some local ale. He took a quick look, then gave her another one, seeing this delightful, well-dressed, obviously foreign lady enter the pub. He had to introduce himself.

"Hello, I doubt that you're local, if you'll excuse my saying that."

"Not a problem, love. My name is Susie Brock, and I'm here on a summer vacation."

"Olaf Svengard. Vacation from what?"

"Well, darling, if you must know, I've just graduated from the university, and I'm taking a short retreat here before I start on my career."

"Really- what career?"

"I want to be a photographer. What about you?"

"I'm a reporter for the local television station."

"Really! Then, you're a local celebrity?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes, I am."

"Well, that's rather nice. I'll bet that the ladies all want you."

"Some of them certainly do. However, I don't plan on being single for long."

"Why's that?"

"I want to find a wife and settle down. What about you?"

"I'd love to get married myself. Sorry, that wasn't too forward, was it?"

"Not for me. Here, in Norway, the custom is serial monogamy, you know. When you sleep with a woman, she's your lady, until you stop sleeping with her."

"So, when that happens, you jump into the sack with someone else, and she becomes your girl, instead, right?"

"Precisely. That's just the custom here. You don't avoid sex, but you just bear in mind that the woman considers herself to be your companion afterward."

"I see. Well, if things turn out well, perhaps you'd care to consider me for a possible relationship, or is that too pushy?"

"Not at all. You seem like such a doll, with your clothes and your hair, and all of that."

"Yes, but I'm rather a naughty little slut in the sack."

"Good to know. I take it that you're British, from your accent at least."

"I was born and grew up in England, until I turned 12, and then my family moved to the States."

"So, are you a citizen yet?"

"You mean, an American? No, love, I haven't been naturalized. I've had other things to do, like getting an education, and I don't know where I plan to live when I settle down."

"What's it like, living in America?"

"Very different from Europe. It's both more energetic and more dangerous than most European countries. It's rather cosmopolitan, too."

"So, where in America did you live?"

"Massachusetts. In fact, I worked as a intern for the Governor of Massachusetts for a whole semester in high school. I even attended Harvard afterward."

"Harvard? So, you were a great student, eh?"

"I was reasonably studious, but I did have connected friends- well, actually one very connected friend at first."

"Who was that?"

"The Honorable Bruce Calahan, Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."

"Isn't he Senator Bruce Calahan now? The new power on the Foreign Relations Committee?"

"Yes, in fact, he is a Senator, now, as a matter of fact."

"There are people floating his name about for the Presidency, you know?"

"So they say."

"So, what was your relationship with him, out of curiosity?"

"We were lovers."

"What? You were the mistress of a possible future American President?"

"Not so much 'mistress' as slave, Olaf."

"Slave?"

"I am a sub- a bottom, if you know what that means."

"You mean that you like to be enslaved, dominated, and punished by your partner?"

"Precisely."

"Well, I've only played around with that sort of stuff once or twice, with my ex-wife, but she was the dominant type, and I just didn't enjoy it. That contributed to the failure of my marriage."