...

She walks down a street on a cool, dark Sunday morning wearing a pair of faded baggy, black shorts, matching sports bra, red panties, and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, with a bandana tied round about her head.
Brandy has a steady stride going, but the red lace panties keep sliding down over her hips. Hot and frustrated, not wanting to break stride, the morning walker tries to think quickly; not caring of the consequences, or what may tran-spire because of her actions, she reaches into her pocket, pulling out the small pocket knife and opens it. Reaching into the waistband of her shorts, she grabs the thin slip of a strap on her right hip and slices through it, repeating the process on the other side. She pulls the tattered remnant from between her warm thighs, gently tugging, feeling the soft tug and pull on her sex and her private piercing as she removes the bothersome cloth.
While never slowing her stride, Brandy balls the flimsy fabric in her fist and looks about for a place to dispose of the ruined and useless item. There is no one around that early in the morning, as the sun has not even come up, so she throws them on the curbside, where they land next to the front tire of an old car. She continues with her morning walk and thinks on the incident no more.

A short time later, three college students emerge from their house,

...

Read the rest of Ripples in a pond in Consent Magazine Issue #19 Autumn 2003