"An 'F'!?!" When the last day of school falls on your birthday you begin to wonder how the day could possibly not go your way. And when I say the last day of school I don't mean the last day of grade school, or even a year of high school, but of high school completely. However as great of an accomplishment as it is and as well as the day should have been going it was headed in the completely opposite direction. .
First I walked into the top half of my locker being stuffed with single edge razor blades and even though no one in the school liked me everyone wanted to be the first down the hall to turn me into the dean, the counselor, the principal whoever they find first just for the sake of kudos points. As soon as the first blade hit the floor with its metallic ping I herd the pitter patter of feet taking off down the hall to do their civic duty. Funny thing is that I didn't even try to stop them from running down the hall or the blades falling to the floor, I mean what was the point? With my reputation if I told the dean or the counselor or whoever would be sprinting down the hall in the next few seconds, that what about 20 or so witnesses saw and confessed to wasn't true not only would I have to explain the blades but I would probably also have to see the school shrink one more time for good measure for lying. At that moment in time, watching as the brown nosers scurried off down the hall. There was only one think that I could do. I brushed out the few blades that were left in my locker onto the floor; luckily the idiots who had put them in had left the cardboard guards on, got my stuff and set off to get through my last day of school.
The last day of school has always been a joke to me. Find out how you did on your finals, turn in your books, and for most people sign years books making sure to get them back to whomever they belong to and leave by eleven thirty. I mean come on now this all could have been combined into the last day and At that point I could have been home sleeping. Oh well, we all must do things that we don't like I suppose and hold true to this the first stop of the day was my history class.
My history teacher is or was as the case may be, a complete and total bitch. This was the year when American history was the main focus and at the beginning of the year she said that the main focus of the class was to show us how the country developed from what it was into the nation that it was today a very admirable and practical goal in my opinion. However, when it came to the 1980's with the gay revolution when America came out of the closet so to speak with the movements and the Stonewall riot she wouldn't touch the section with a ten foot pole. Needless to say that I was pissed, not only was I pissed that she had planned on skipping over that extremely course altering portion of American history but she lost even more of my respect when she stood at her podium and said straight faced to a bunch of conforming seniors, who would pretty much adopt any opinion that you threw out to them, that Gays, Lesbians, Pan-sexuals, Transgender folk as well, were simply choosing a life style that went against society in order to create shock within the nation and also to make themselves stand out as anarchists. So in my opinion upon hearing this I found myself shoved by her words into a group who got excessive piercings, wore all black and constantly died their hair. After that she and I never really did see eye to eye. We all sat down about thirty of us in all, assigned seats and although I have no proof of it I swear my dean and counselor had her place me at the front so if I was doing something such as picking my finger nails excessively or was using the spiral notebook to carve gashes in my arm neither of which I have actually done, she could send me to the school shrink. The funny thing is that I always have a greater desire to hurt myself after I have seen him then I have ever had before I had take the long and lonely walk down to his office no matter how bad of a day I was having.
So I take my assigned seat near the front of the room and begin to envy those in the back rows as our teacher begins to drove on and on about how proud she was and how so many of us showed such a true passion for history that she hoped many of us would continue on with it in college. College, yeah right. The best I could hope for now was a full time job with a decent wage and the ability to get my own apartment. Besides if I was going to college I wouldn't be studying history. Actually come to think of it I don't know too many individuals who would. Studding history it seems to me is for people who are good at it in grade school and high school and when it comes time to choose a major in college with no practicality of the future decide to use history as their fall back. For many majors I have asked what can't you do with them but for this one I have often asked what can you do with it. So, there I sat with a woman talking to us with such hope in her heart that some of us would follow her into her profession and love of history picturing the field of history to make great advances because of all the hard work and dedication that she put into her students, into us. She could see this so clearly and was filled with such hope because of it that I almost felt sorry for her.
Eventually she came down off her soap box and began handing out late assignments and giving us our grades for the class. I really wasn't all that interested in my grade I had been pulling A's in this woman's class all year. Hell I probably could have taught the class if the old bat would have let me. At least if nothing else I could have made it a hell of a lot more interesting. I mean this was a woman who could make the Valentine's Day massacre sound like the wonderful experience of watching paint dry. So even though my grade was of little or no concern to me what I really wanted to see way my final exam. Of course the first thing I wanted was the last thing that she handed out. I heard people all around me who have already received all their papers calculating what they needed on the final in order to get this grade or that, some even trying to figure out what they needed to pass the class to graduate. As she goes farther down the row I begin to think of my own graduation celebration. I had been pulling a few extra hours at the book store that's by my house and after having up a thousand dollars I was gong to go out and throw myself the best graduation celebration ever. I have already notified the school that I will not be attending the ceremony and to take my name off the call list and to mail the diploma to the house. Nobody would be there to see me anyway so why bother getting all dressed up especially at an all girl school graduation. I mean granted I'm a lesbian so let me reword because at first you would like that there was a possibility to picking up someone and really celebrating tonight however. I suppose it would be more accurate to say why bother getting all dressed up at an all girl school graduation where everyone hates you and those that don't hate you are scared and those that don't hate you or are scared of you pity you and to be honest I think the last one is the worst of the three.
Lost in my thoughts I barely noticed that the teacher had dropped my final exam on my desk. I flipped through it and noticed that the multiple choices and the true and false as well as the first page of the essay portion are completely red ink free; except for a spot that was notifying me that there should have been a comma in its place. Personally I think it was put there out of spite rather then a correction. Then I turned to the crowning jewel of the whole test, the part that I had been most anxious to see, the final page and the final essay question. Many people would discuss the cause of the civil war as being a result of slavery that was occurring in the Southern states or of economic factors, but just to be original I said that it was homosexuality. Well not said that it was specifically that but just because she seemed unaware of that portion of our nation's history I poured as much of what I knew into the space allowed for the third and final essay question. What did I get for opening her mind and making her aware of things that she was unaware of before? A big red X through the whole essay and the word IINCORRECT written in the margin. Even with that wrong I was still able to pull a B on the test and an A in the class. Thank god she allowed free time after this was through, though it was only seconds before we got to leave so the bell rang right in the middle of the bigot's final statement "Well good luck to you all and enjoy your grad….RRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNGGGG." One down and three to go.
The next class was math or as the more ego driven called it Calculus IV. This was a class that I always loved. The teacher was nice and I liked her, but more then likely this was a class that was completely based on fact and the chances of me hearing the woman's true opinion was pretty much slim to nil. This also was a class where I could laugh silently to myself as I watched class mates who I knew hated me and come over and pretend that I had been out sick or that they hadn't noticed me for days, weeks, or even months, as the case may be and ask me to help them with a problem I could have refused to help the but then unfortunately I would turn into something I hated, damn Karma. Don't get me wrong I never allowed myself to get walked on because what was helping them with a problem to me if they would later be forced to recreate something that I had told them but that they didn't understand on a quiz or a test? The class started the same way as the last one papers and grades as well as a little speech sigh but at leas she didn't try to talk us into her profession which I did have to give her credit for. I'll save you all the dramatics I passed, math as well as psychology which was next. Psychology was another class that I always loved. I thought it was awesome learning about the different pathologies and attempting to diagnose my classmates as well as my father. Papers, grades speech, yay I passed…Damn was this day over yet? Music was pretty much the same and there came my least favorite class of all Chemistry, and not only Chemistry but advanced placement Chemistry. She had already given us the information the day before so she was allowing us free time. I didn't mind a few minutes of free time that was allotted to us to wind down a class but having an entire class worth of free time was something that I completely despised. I always ended up in a corner alone doodling or something of that nature to pass time. At least this time I could console myself with the idea of my party tonight. It was a Friday so the place would be packed all my favorites would be there; damn I was going to have a good time.
"Excuse me Mrs. Schatswell, I was wondering if I could have a word with Vanessa."
I knew the voice and I wasn't surprised that she had come but rather that she hadn't come sooner. I knew that Mrs. Schatswell wouldn't den her what she asked so without looking over toward the door where the owner of the voice stood instead I gathered up my books and bag and stood to face he woman who had become over the years a major influence in my life. She was shorter then me by about a head, but when you stand at about 5'9 few people are taller then you. She had shoulder length hair, dusty blond with thick gray strands running through it and freshly cut and styled, probably for the ceremony that would be taking place that evening. Her face held the lines of old age and wisdom but the through out our meetings and talks I had to say that the age showed more then the wisdom.
"Not a bother at all." Mrs. Schatswell says. Then as I begin to head out the door I see her turn to me and gaze at me with a look of sympathy and curiosity. Everyone knows though things are supposed to be kept confidential within the school. Even if she wasn't sure about what exactly was going on at that moment I was sure that she would find out later from one teacher or another. As I walked passed her out the door to join my emissary at her side I smiled back but deep within that small was a slight plea. I had been called out of call often and what happens afterward normally depends on the situation however my feelings toward them are always the same, compliance. I go because I have to g, I have to graduate. I just have to fight to stay stable a little longer. She would have wanted this for me and though I think that she would be just as disappointed in me as everyone else, I have to finish because that is what she would have wanted. I walked out of the room and down the hallway feeling their eyes of everyone of my class mates on me, watching, wanting something to betray to them the reason that I am being let out of the room.
As I walk the path already laid out for me already in my mind. I know this path I have walked this one many times before, without being told I know where we are going, and more then likely I know what will be waiting when we get there. The only thing that I can be grateful for is that the emissary didn't try to make small talk as we made our way trough the school building, but at the same time the silence the flooded the halls left open a wide range of topics that this up coming summons could touch upon and none of them seemed all that comforting or enjoyable. This thought then brought the uncomfortable ness that had been growing steadily as we had been walking through the hall way now became completely unbearable.
No matter what people say, no matter how many times you do something that you don't like it never truly gets any easier. It's like going to the dentist if you really, really hate to go. Going more often is not going to make you like the dentist more or make you less nervous or anxious, and it is not going to make you run with a hop in your step up to the front door of the building run in, throw, your arms around your dentist and beg him to pick your teeth for cavities, drill out a filling, or fit you for braces. The same is true when your in high school and you have been summoned to the dean's office personally I loved the idea of not going however, the events of the earlier morning were not going to allow that.
Finally we had arrived at the dean's office, and I stood in front of a door that looked like any other in the school except that it had a small plaque with the words MRS. NOLAN, SENIOR DEAN written across it. Without any prompting from my escort I walked up to the solid and darkly stained door and gave a quick series of knocks, secretly hoping that there would be no answer, no such luck. After what seemed like and exceptionally long series of heart beats the door opened and there was a woman who stood taller then myself with longer red hair to contrast my short black, a larger frame to my slender one, a pants suit to my plaid skirt and white polo shirt (honestly not my choice, school issued), and finally new suede shoes to my old beat up Converse. She looked at me for half a second as if searching her mind for what specific reason brought me there that time. Let me make it clear that this woman opening her door and seeing me waiting to be allowed entrance was nothing new. In fact I have been here so many times that at one point I asked her if I could use the time that she and I spent together as credit toward a human relations course, she had said no. When I was turned own I asked if at least I could have my own coffee cu so that I wouldn't have to use ones that other students had been drinking out of and although she had said no to that request as well there seemed to be this unwritten rule that there was a cup that was kept in the lower left had drawer of her desk that was only brought out when I entered her office, the rest of the senior class got to sip hot chocolate or coffee out of the communal cups which was gross, even though the dean insisted that she washed them after every use, or the Styrofoam ones which in my opinion somehow had an effect on the taste. If you chose to use the Styrofoam cups you could leave her office with it but you had to get rid of it before your next class. Walk through the halls of the school during switch periods and you could find at least two or three people carrying the little white cups around with them and showing without realizing it where they had been.
The look of realization went through her eyes and she stepped aside to allow me passage into her inner sanctum. With a fake and phony smile plastered onto her face she motioned for me to have a seat and I noticed that her office was a bit more messy then usual, more then likely because of immense amount of end of the year paperwork and for half a second I felt bad because instead of dealing within things that really needed her attention she had to sit and deal with me. Her office was small but surprisingly not cramped. She had the standard issue gray enamel desk which took up practically half the room. She also had a small table on which stood a coffee maker, Styrofoam cups, and of course my mug. Just be seeing that my mug was out I knew that she had been expecting me at least. Next to her desk was a very comfortable looking black pleather chair, next to which there was a ratty old, orange and green stripped couch with duct tape on the arms. It looked like Mrs. Nolan had pulled it out of a dumpster on her way to work, but for as horrid as it looked it was in my opinion one of the most comfortable pieces of furniture that I had ever come across. I took my spot on the couch and while Mrs. Nolan took the chair and my emissary closed the door and leaned against the book shelf that was just to the right of it.
"Well", began the dean "I suppose you know why you're hear, correct?"
"I'm assuming it's because of my locker this morning and the razor blades that someone planted in there. "
"What do you mean planted?"
"Planted" I said "a thing put into place in order to mislead or function secretly, or to put it more simply meaning that I did not put them there and that someone else did."
"Vanessa" began the dean rubbing her head. "Why would anyone want to put razor blades in your locker? Are you sure that you're simply putting the blame off on to someone else so that our agreement will not have been broken?"
"First" I said settling back into the couch, "Let me explain something to the two of you. That even within this place of leaning, knowledge, and acceptance, if there is something 'wrong' with you, something that truly separates you and makes you an individual then you get made fun of, and even harassed." I hunched over my knees looking from one to the other to make sure that they understood what I was saying. "And you "I said as I looked at the emissary, "are the one that I have to thank for that." I saw her about to pen her mouth to respond when the dean stepped in.
"It is not your counselor's fault that the appointment requests were open and read, and it is certainly not her fault that rumors spread."
"No." I said keeping my eyes on the counselor. "You're right it wasn't her fault not directly anyway."
"What do you mean not directly?"
"Well granted that she did not tell anyone about my 'condition' as we have come to call it. However, I'm not sure why she was allowing students to pass out her meeting requests in the first place. Nor am I aware of the reason that she would write something as obvious as "to discuss self injurious behavior" on something where a student might see it." By this point I was fuming and could have handled anything that they could have possibly have thrown at me, anything at all, anything that is except the next question that they threw at me.
"Speaking of which how have you been doing controlling your…problem?" I saw her eyes move to my arms which even though it was and had been a hot June were covered by a black monogrammed sweater. Neither student, nor any teacher asked why I was wearing such a thing in the heat anymore and that was because no one least of all me wanted to see what I had done to myself in the past year. Scars which although had faded over time were still very much present and visible on my naked arms. When I was etching the marks into my arms with the value pack of razor blades I surprisingly never once thought about what my arms would look like afterward. Honestly what was thinking about at the time was getting rid of the pain. The pain which no doctor could mend and no bandage could cover. Before it would occur there would be an overload if you would followed by a quick shot of pain and a rush of comfort and pleasure afterward.
I hadn't cut in over a week and although the cut's themselves had pretty much healed the newly carved scars still remained. In many cases I felt that they were my own personal badges of honor a triumph that I had achieved and survived a moment of total helplessness, hopelessness, and intense amount of mental anguish yet I had lived, I had survived. I was normally secure enough with myself and my problem, or if you'll humor me, my coping mechanism but sitting there in that office knowing that there were no secrets no chance for shock value to possibly make them stumble and draw back away from the problem, I felt more exposed then I ever had before. I could barely keep myself from running out of the room so I did the next best thing I could have done in order to bring myself some comfort and relief. I brought my arms around myself almost in hug as if I was trying to warm myself from their hard cold stares, when I realized what I was doing I tried to stop myself but it was too late. I had shown them what they had wanted, I had shown weakness. As pissed of at myself as I was actually still quite surprised that I had shown anything at all. Over the years I had learned, because of my step-father that showing any sign of weakness was asking for trouble, well live and learn I suppose. "My problem", I said attempting to regain my composure "is being...handled."
"May I see how well it is being handled?" asked my dean as she reached toward me to help me uncross my arms. Knowing her better then she thought I caught her hand around the wrist not holding with any pressure but still shocking her more then she could tell.
"If you don't mind I would really would rather not to expose myself, my problems, and my own damn business in front of you." I slowly let go of her keeping my eyes solidly fixed on her own until she was far enough out of reach where I could lean back in my own seat and see the spook that I had given her. My arms were no longer crossed and although I was extremely high strung despite the act that I was putting forth I was no longer on as high of a defensive as I had once been.
"I'm sorry Vanessa" my counselor said. "But with someone who has had as much suicidal ideation as you have had not to mention the attempts the school prefers to take greater care when it comes to certain liabilities and…"
"I thought that we discussed this before," I said my eyes like fire burning into the head of my counselor, my anger slowly coming to a boil just beneath the surface. "There never were any attempts. I've told this to the school shrink, I've told this to both of you, believe me when I say that if I had wanted to kill myself I've had many opportunities to do so and I would surely have done it by now." At this point they exchanged glances and I began to wonder whether letting that piece of information out at this particular time was the smartest thing I could have done at the moment, and they were trying to figure out whether that particular statement merited a report or not. But whether it did or not I never found out because at that point the dean advanced on.
"Your step-father seemed pretty convinced that that they were attempts in act are you aware that there were talks of pulling you out of school and placing you into a psychiatric ward for a while? He is extremely concerned about you."
It was at this point that I had to smile. "My step-father Mrs. Nolan only wanted me placed in a psychiatric ward because he found out I was a lesbian and it was a nice way to get me out of his life for a while he coped with it and to see if maybe they could cure me so that I could be 'normal' in his eyes. I'm pretty sure that he's convinced that once I go in I'll never be getting out again."
"But surely you know how much he loves you? I've had many conversations with him about your needs with as of late seem to be doing nothing but steadily increasing."
Did my step-father love me? Of course he did but not in the way that a step-father should love his step-daughter. To him I was an object of desire a fantasy forbidden by nature and society. He loved me in the way and with the passion that a man would love his wife. My step-father had dropped the father portion of our relationship by the time I turned ten, just after my mother died of cancer and continued being so until last year after one of our rendezvous which had always as far back as I could remember had always taken place in my bed. As if he was afraid the filth of the action would rub off and infest his sheets. We laid their together him holding me securely in his arms the excitement of him having had to take me by force that night still lingered in the air as I felt him still solid and hard against my leg. I could feel his essence his seed leaking out of me on to my sheets which I knew I would have to remove and clean right after he left for the night. He held me firm playing with my nipples, stroking my breasts, which were already sore from the strength of his hands and his mouth and he told me that he secretly hoped that I could bare his child, that he would be able to marry me, and that we could be a family. I wanted to cry, I wanted to bawl at the pure stupidity of this man who had had the nerve to marry my mother, who had hurt me, raped me at least four times a week since I was ten. This man was supposed to be my protector, the one who kept people from doing what he had just gotten finished doing to me. When he had found the cuts on my body he had given me some time alone, a break and for a time the late night visits stopped. He never asked where the cuts came from and for a time he was simply absent from my life. We were like two ghosts living in the same house, one coming while the other was going. What was until one night, one night he came to see me and I felt his heat on my neck as he bit my ear, his hand moved slowly and with caution between my legs and it was here that I was able to quietly squeezed out the word "No." His hand stopped, but he continued to bite my ear and was moving down my neck to my shoulders.
"Why? You know you like it. We've been playing this game for years and you've always liked it. Oh you're so wet." What else could I tell him at this point but the truth?
"I'm a lesbian dad. A lesbian." He was angry so angry at me, the thought that he didn't turn me on and never had completely shook him to the core of his being and he hated me for something that I had no control over. That was that time that he raped me harder then he had ever raped me before taking all of his anger and putting it into his thrusts so that by the time he had finished with me I was red and raw and sore, so sore. When he had finished inside me he didn't stay, there was no snuggling, no caressing, he simply pushed me off of him onto the floor and then wiping himself with a shirt of mine that he found on the floor he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Laying there on the floor, naked, sore, and at the moment unable to move I felt something move in me which confused me. As angry as I should have been at that moment I felt pity and regret for that man who was my assailant. For some reason I was his last shot at happiness. Mom had died and essentially told him that there was nothing that he could offer me to make me become what she had been, and that every time he and I had been together I had been thinking about a woman with a strap on doing me in my cunt, a woman licking my pussy, my breasts making me moan in pleasure. I suppose that in his mind he had to give it one last shot to try to keep me which was why the extra attention had been paid to me that night. But after that there was nothing. It was like living completely alone, or with a roommate you don't really know because you never see them. I stayed out of his way and he mine. I even took an evening and weekend job so that I wouldn't have to go home. My schedule for months was to work until nine and afterward be at the Captain to see the only people who I considered to be true friends until they closed the doors and politely removed me from the building. In addition to all of this of course balancing school and attempting to keep the dean, counselor and the school psychiatrist as well as about 99.5 of the senior class at bay. So I suppose that my step-father but I was pretty certain that it was not in the way that my counselor at the moment went.
"May I ask where this is leading?" I said attempting to make eye contact with both of them at the same time. "We made a deal remember?" Dramatic pause and go. "The deal was that if I did not have any incidences of cutting at school, I kept seeing the school shrink, and passed all of my finals that there would not be a problem and I could graduate. That was the deal right? As far as I am aware I have lived up to the standards that you two have put forth for me except for the incident this morning, and I don't think that that incident should be counted against me because of someone else's stupidity." Quick glance to see if they were following and I moved on. "Now, can we move on so that I can go to my last period, return my books and go home?"
They both looked at each other again attempting to see if they had recently required mental telepathy. Then the dean broke the silence. "Why don't you want to walk across the stage with your class mates tonight?"
"Because there would be no one there to see it."
"Your step-father is not going to be there?"
"As I said there would be no one there to see it."
"You don't even want to do it for yourself? For your own sense of accomplishment?"
"My sense of accomplishment will come today when I walk out the door and I don't need to dress up and have someone tell me I did well to know that I did well."
"O.k." said my dean as she made me out a hall pass, "Well good luck then." She handed me the hall pass, I grabbed my bag and walked out the door. As I herd the lock click behind me I realized that in some ways leaving the place will greatly decrease the amount of excitement that my life currently contained. No longer would I have to be quick on my feet and try to come up with a lie to try to explain something that was totally unexplainable, no longer would I have to dodge metaphorical bullets, to hide things, keep stories straight so that I wouldn't trip myself up. It was at that moment that I herd the door click that I realized that I was now going to be seen as a grown up and I was truly on my own. No friends, no lover, no parents, and as soon as I walked out of the doors of the school this afternoon, there wouldn't even be those people within the institution of the school that I could do to with problems. Nope, soon enough those survival instincts were going to have to kick up into high gear. So I stood there for a moment looking at her door pondering and milling over the thought of going back in there and telling them that I would attend the ceremony when the bell rang for changing classes and all thoughts but that of collecting my final test fled from my mind and away I went.
English, by far my favorite subject, it was within the walls of an English classroom that I was introduced to some of my favorite authors, Margaret Atwood, Dorthy Allison, J.D. Salinger, Gloria Brame, ok maybe not all my favorite authors but the class gave me the basis for reading and love of stories. The only problem with this class this year was Mr. Kincade. It was combining one of my favorite things with one of my least favorite. You would think that one could cancel the other out so that it would at least be tolerable but nope. This specific combination only made me think more about having him for a teacher then about enjoying the class. This dislike did not stem from the fact that Mr. Kincade was a bad teacher, quite the contrary actually he picked the most thought provoking novels and not only did he pick them but he understood them to the point that if a question was asked he was able to give a reasonable answer then simply brushing it off.
My problem with Mr. Kincade was that he had the relationship with students that most men would only have with their wives. Actually that's not true it wasn't all his students, it was only one in particular, and the more I think on it wasn't so much a husband/wife relationship so much as a predator/prey relationship. Somehow although I was pretty sure that he hadn't been told everything about my situation I was sure that he could smell it on me like tobacco, strong and pungent.
When I had first met him he had been a confidant of mine. My love of literature and my open mind made those conversations pleasant because I could always fall back on something that we had read, were going to read, or if worse came to worse a paper I had written that was until things changed. It was the day that all of my teachers had been inducted into the SAVE VANESSA campaign, the day when they were all asked to keep an eye on me and more me up to the front row of the class if possible to help make it easier. This occurred back in the day when everyone even me thought that what I was doing was completely crazy and suicidal and the idea of pulling me and instutionalized me came into play. Most of this from what I was understood was supposed to be kept silent but somehow Mr. Kincade had seemed to find out everything. So one day he asked me to stay after class and asked me to meet him in his office after school although I didn't realize until much later that he never had said about what. Thinking simply that it had to do with my grade or something of the sort I went without suspicion. His office was at the far end of the east wing of the school and completely removed from the hussel and bussel of students, a place that place that seemed fitting for him because it seemed like a perfect place for relaxation and contemplation and that was why he used it, at least that's what I initially thought. I arrived at his office, knocked, and entered without waiting for admittance. I walked in the door and through the small three foot hallway to find Mr. Kincade or Allen as I would soon be calling him, sitting at his desk writing. I always had loved his office, he refused to used the overhead light and had instead brought in a small desktop lamp which casted a wonderfully warm golden glow throughout the room. The bookshelves that had come with the office were littered with books and he had even brought in an extra small shelf which was in the same sad shape. It seemed that when he had first arrived he had been given an uncomfortable office chair and had replaced it with a black pleather one and stuffed into the corner of the office next to what appeared to be a small filing cabinet was an overstuffed arm chair that looked like it had seen better days with it's duct taped arms and worn seat. I don't think it was intentional but that chair always had a secret meaning to me. Allen never offered up his pleather chair to anyone he always seemed to liked to remain moveable, in motion, free, while he always stuck the students in the comfortable and familiar yet stationary chair. Strange and yet in some ways I thought it was a perfect way to explain my life…at least I thought so.
He didn't look up when I walked in, in fact his concentration never seemed to move from the work in front of him. Figuring his lack of response stemmed from him simply being in the middle of a thought I wanted trying not to distract him but it was when he grabbed another large stack of papers and pulled them in front of him that I finally spoke up.
"Mr. Kincade?" He still hadn't looked up. "Excuse me, it's Vanessa you said that you wanted to speak with me?" Nothing, not even a look in my general direction. "I didn't mean to disturb you it's just that…"
"Who said you could enter?" The sound of his voice took me by surprise. To be honest it wasn't just his voice it was that his statement was right, it was one hundred percent correct.
"No one, sir. Now let's try this again. Who said you could enter?"
Catching on to what he meant I stiffened. Sir, he wanted me to call him sir. Why was he being so formal with me? He was never like this before with me or with any other student as far as I knew. Hell some of them were so informal with him that they called him by his initials, A.K., which although there weren't many of them he still allowed it to happen as long as there wasn't another teacher around. I just didn't get it and I knew that much, but what I also knew what that I was tired of standing there and not even being looked at. "No one told me I could come in, sir. I just walked in."
"I see. A little rude don't you think?"
"Yes, I suppose."
"Yes I suppose…." He prompted.
"Yes sir, I suppose that it was rude." This was driving me crazy. What was going on with this formality bullshit? Why was I suddenly calling him sir? What did he want to speak to me about and worse of all why hadn't he even looked at me yet?
"Well then perhaps we should try this again. Step back outside my door and this time when you knock wait for an answer."
Not knowing what else to do I did as I was told and walked back out the door shame burning brightly on my cheeks for having not shown him proper courtesy. I closed the door behind me and promptly gave it three firm knocks and there was no answer. About five minutes passes while I stood waiting for a reply but it felt like much longer, it felt like so long to me that I began to become anxious and my skin began to crawl from curiosity and need and when I say need I didn't mean the sexual kind but rather the need to go back in there and attempt to wipe the feeling of intense shame away that had been building since I stepped through the door and he had uttered those words to me. I was like a pot boiling over, steam collecting, water bubbling, pressure building, and building till it almost had no where to go. I had to go back in there I had to redeem myself in his eyes, I was so worked up over this I felt sincerely that if nothing else I had to apologize for my actions. I had made up my mind. I had my hand on the door knob and was about to turn it and risk it when I herd Allen's voice coming through the door. "Come in."
"Thank you." I whispered. I pushed the door open slowly. Any and all guesses that I had pertaining to why I was there had all but diminished and now I felt more timid then I had ever imagined. I closed the door behind me almost silently besides the click of the lock. The three foot hall way felt like it was fifty and with each one of my steps into the room my heart began to beat harder and harder until I thought that it was going to simply burst through my chest until I was standing where I had been according to the clock only minutes before. He still had not looked up from his desk and the pile of paperwork that laid before him. Refusing to be sent out of the room again I set my bag down on the floor next to where I was standing and waited patiently. As I waited I looked at this man that I had admired, this man who I thought and believed had a world's worth of knowledge to share with me. He was about a head taller then me with short brown hair with tiny specks of grey which seemed to multiply over the year that I had know him, and the chiseled features of a man in his early forties with a strong amount of German heritage in his background. He was always neat and clean shaven and his hair trimmed to ultimate perfection. He was modest in his attire which although it may have been unintentional screamed that he was a learned man in a teaching profession; kahki pants, vests, and collared shirts. That day standing in his office I was finally able to get a sent of him, and he smelled like Old Spice aftershave and the scent nearly took my breath away. He smelled exactly like my step-father! But why hadn't I noticed this about him before. Maybe it simply faded over the day and was unable to be noticed by the time I came to his classroom, I did see him seventh period but as I looked around his office I knew what it was. This room I was in with him was little more then a closet, there were no windows, no fans, and very little by way of exhaust so his scent had very few places to go except to circle around the room. I was swimming in the scent of him even though I was about four or five feet from him and that smell was bringing up all sorts of memories that I had to focus extra hard on being able to keep them in check and under control, I couldn't loose it here.
I shook myself awake to find Allen staring at me, a very impotent and offended look on his face. "I thought that you would have learned your lesson when I sent you back out into the hallway before. You stood there and waited to be acknowledged which impressed me, then you turn around and ignore me when I'm talking to you." At this point he turned his chair toward me leaning back in it with a look which I couldn't read in his eyes but one that suddenly made me so fearful and weak that I could barely stand. "I have half a mind to send you back out into the hall so we can try this again."
Oh god I thought, he's displeased with me. Wait a minute where did that come from? I never cared about what people thought about me I was as tough as nails, I made teachers think and students blush I was what they didn't understand, and more then likely what some of them feared, but at that moment with Allen looking intently at me and sounding as serious as the chimes of death and all I could think about was the feeling of not wanting to displease this person who I barely knew and get sent out into the hall again. It was as if he struck a cord in me that had remained secret, dormant, waiting for the right person to come along and give it the spark that it needed to come alive. "No sir, please." I could feel my throat tightening, I was begging and it sickened me. I couldn't explain this wave of emotion that had surged over me, it wasn't love so much as curiosity, curiosity to see where this was headed and seeing how deep this feeling could go and with what intensity would it carry with it. "I apologize, sir."
"I apologize sir for my actions I didn't mean to ignore you, I simply got lost for a moment."
He looked at me for a moment studying me and then with a small nor truly acknowledged me and the tension in my shoulders released slightly and I was able to breath easier once again. "Very good, very good. Sincere and truthful as well as being quickly put forth, very nicely done." It was all I could do not to smile, I had redeemed myself. He crossed his legs, folded his hands in front of him and gave me the once over. I felt like a piece of meat in a butchers shop window it was embarrassing, annoying and very invasive but the sad thing about it was that I loved every second of it. I was so lost in thought that I practically jumped when I herd my name.
"Vanessa, do you know why I asked you to come down here today?"
"No sir I don't."
"Well then allow me to enlighten you. What I called you down here today to speak to you about was that mark on your arm."
My breath went short, my blood went cold and my stomach clenched. I thought about all that food that I had for lunch coming back up and all over Allen's clean office rug. How had he seen? I had been so careful because this one was lower on my arm then the others had been. Had someone told him? These were the thoughts running through my mind as it searched to try to come up with a reasonable excuse to explain myself. The mark that he had been referring to was the three inch, two day old scratch, well not a scratch really but a gouge that as I said I had recently placed in the upper part of my left arm. It wasn't supposed to be as deep as it was, it was initially only supposed to be a scratch. That I will say is one of the main problems with my coping mechanism, when the process begins I am already to the point of no return, no chance of being brought back and how far in I am determines how deep the mark is, how much of a clean-up their will be and what the chances of it being spotted are. Surprise, surprise, normally because I have to be so far gone to get to the point of cutting in the first place the ending is normally the same, decent amount of clean up, on the deeper side for the mark, and a lot of anxiety over it being seen. I had thought that this time would be different I thought that I would be able to get away with it. I guess I had been wrong, very, very, wrong. What made the whole situation of being caught by Allen worse was that I had just gotten caught, exposed if you will for what I truly was to the dean and the counselor not more then three weeks ago. There had been a meeting which surprisingly my step-father had attended as well as the dean, my counselor, the school psychologist and the principal. From the number of marks that the nurse had found on my arms and legs everyone thought, incorrectly, that I was suicidal. There also determined, correctly I might add, that this was something that had been going on for a while. When questioned about it my step-father said, unsurprisingly, that he didn't know anything about what caused it or when it began. In essence, although I really can't blame him for it, he had saved his own ass and had put my butt in the burner. Yes, I told them when questioned, I knew what I was doing to myself was unhealthy. No, I didn't know what had caused me to start this behavior, god save my soul for that lie. Yes I wanted to stop, not exactly sure whether that was a lie or not and the reason that I hadn't asked for help was simply because it was a difficult thing to talk about.
When options of what to do "concerning the issue at hand", (I hate when people talk about you in a different tense when your in the same room as them), came up the one that everyone even my step-father agreed to was hospitalization, everyone that is except me. The idea to him at the time had many upsides, one I would be simply out of his hair, possibly while I was in there for this issue in his mind he thought that they could fix my sexual attraction issue so that out late night meetings could resume and if nothing else worked then I would be stuck there and no longer and interference to his life. By this point I had been able to survive three months without a midnight interlude and I hoped that the stretch would continue. When it finally came for my voice to be added to the conversation I was gratefully able to convince them that it was more of a contemporary style of rebellion rather then suicidal ideology and that hospitalization would not be necessary. Although I was able to convince them that hospitalization would hinder more then help especially when it came to school work they reduced the sentencing to heavy therapy as well as other conditions such as since I said I was able to control my action and was therefore in no danger to myself or others I was not to show up to school with any new markings or the option of hospitalization would then be heavily considered as well as prolonging my graduation.
So there I was standing in Allen's office facing the worst fear that I had come across in all my years of existence. I watched his face and saw it change to reflect the triumph which he knew he had achieved. I took a minute to compose myself, trying to focus so that when I spoke the shake which I knew was present wouldn't be there. I failed miserably. "Are you going to tell?"
"Now Vanessa you know as well as I that according to school policies if I do not turn something of this magnitude over to the proper individuals especially when it concerns someone in such a situation as yours that I would be in danger of loosing my job."
I didn't know what to say, he had me, so I therefore I did nothing and waited for him to make the next move. I expected him to pick up the phone and dial the school shrink or my counselor, to write me a dean's pass for the next day, I expected him to do anything, anything that is except what it was he actually did. "If you were interested," he said. "We could reach a bargain."
"What would that be?"
"What would that be…?"
" Pardon me. What would that be sir?"
"Much better. Still need some work on that though. Set your bag over on the chair and then come and stand in front of me."
I placed my bag where he told me and moved up to him, his legs still crossed I stood about three inches from him. I could smell his cologne much stronger now then before and saw his eyes moving over me.
I did so and it was no easier. Even with my back to him I felt his eyes searching, penetrating as if he could see right through my clothing. My neck began to itch and my back began to burn under his gaze and not being able to resist anymore I moved to brush the feeling away.
"Stand still" he warned, and stand still I did.
I don't know how long I stood there, uncomfortable under his gaze because of course the clock was behind me. "Very nice. Now, turn back around and kneel in front of me. Cross your hands behind your back and leave them there, right over left." No problem so far. He looked into my eyes as if trying to read my thoughts but out of shame I looked away. "Look at me." My eyes went back and I couldn't hold his gaze. "I said look at me." I looked at him holding his gaze with my eyes which watered under the strain. Softly but firmly his hand cupped my cheek moving my head to the side and he then removed his hand but my chin remained where he had placed it.
"You're a fast learner. Now when you come to my office again I want you to get into this same position, understand?"
"Again!!!" My head was screaming. I thought that this was a one time thing a payment for him keeping his mouth shut. I nearly turned my head to look at him to see if I could read if he was really serious but only the strength of the divine kept me where I was. As if reading my thoughts, seeing me struggle within my shell he uncrossed his legs and moved in even closer.
"Oh yes Vanessa there will be more but it will not be me who determines when. It will be you. For every mark I see you will owe me a session, a trip to my office. But the thing is Vanessa I think that you will eventually grow to love our time together and will mark your body just for the sake of coming to see me"
I couldn't see him seeing how my head was turned and to be honest I didn't want to. His voice which was only a whisper was growing louder, he was coming closer. I risked a sideways glance. He was so close to me now that he was blurred in my vision. Suddenly I felt a pull at my shirt and my chest got a little colder and then I realized he was unbuttoning my shirt!?! He worked slowly, methodically, as if unwrapping a very valuable Christmas present. He undid all the buttons leaving my chest and stomach save for my bra bare. My heart was racing, beating so fast that I was surprised that it hadn't overheated. My mouth was so dry and I was so cold, so cold. Suddenly I felt his hand on me, as he started at my neck putting a light amount of pressure on my throat freezing me for half a second, and then he moved on down my chest. His fingers traced along my bra and I shivered as he handled my breast through the cloth and slowly began to work his way past the cloth.
"You've stopped breathing. When you breathe you feel, and I want you to feel everything."
I realized that he was right and let out a whoosh of air. "That's better" he said and he picked up right where he had left off. I tried to focus on anything else the carpet, his books, the sound of the air coming in from the vent above me but my brain just wouldn't cooperate. I absolutely loathed what was happening to me and that's what made me love it all the more. The fact that I was trapped and that I couldn't get away, that truly the only way to make it through this right now was to the goings on happen and recover afterward. I twisted my hands together pulling at them trying with all my might to remain still. I felt the bra rise above my breasts and his skin against mine, kneading my breasts, and pulling at me nipples so hard that it hurt. He searched my stomach playing with my naval ring, running his fingers along the inside seam of my skirt, but it was when his hand went into my skirt that I could stand it no longer and I pulled back.
"Shhhhh, now that's a good girl, quiet down."
My eyes began to tear up and I wanted to cry but I couldn't, I wouldn't. I wouldn't show him weakness. It was like it was with him, show weakness and you would regret it. I wanted it to stop but I wanted it to go longer. It was pain but pleasure. I hated it but loved it and worst of all I hated myself because I couldn't tell which one was most prominent in my mind. It was like they were linked together, two halves of the same whole. He fingers traced along my outer lips and then even slower and with more care my inner lips, moving the tiny folds of skin out of the way until he brushed the forbidden spot, the one which drives every woman crazy. I felt myself growing warm feeling things deep in my body tighten as I fought the rising pleasure not wanting to give the satisfaction of giving me an orgasm, but because I was failing so badly at this the shame of failure made my heart race even more. He saw the struggle within me and fought back against my stubbornness in his own way and worked all the harder to get me to break down my barriers and allow the pleasure to overtake me. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and my vision erupted in spots of color and my body filled up and overflowed with a warm wave of pleasure which poured over me in multiple waves. Without being able to help myself I broke my gaze with the bookshelf in which I had recently taken a surprisingly amount of interest, and pressed forward into Allen's waiting arms. I shuddered for a moment and then I straightened up and leaned back. What surprised me about what I saw wasn't that while he had been working on me he had opened his fly and had his cock out and had been stroking himself, but was that I hadn't noticed it the entire time and it was here that I looked up and met his gaze.
"There, now that wasn't so bad was it. All you had to was deal with a little pleasure for me to keep quiet."
I wanted to kill him. From that moment on I never saw as I once had. As a mentor to a person who was merely smart and intelligent and whose brain I wanted to pick because I thought that through him I would acquire some knowledge that was beyond my ability to get it on my own. Now I saw him for what he was, a predator. When he told me that there was going to be a price for receiving so much from him I knew that there was nothing that I could do except pay it. However, the reason that I at that moment totally despised him was because he was right the whole experience in total hadn't been that bad, at the time I actually found myself wanting more. No one before save for one person had ever made me feel so vulnerable, so raw, so exposed, so…good. I wanted him, not his body, but his mind, his charisma, whatever it was that had the ability to penetrate my skin and make me feel completely and utterly submissive. I wanted him to tease and pleasure me only be rougher making the pain come over me making the muscles tighten out of unwillingness and then feel my will give away as I folded to demands that would have only recently make me shiver at the thought of performing them would have made me sick. I hated him for my having like it, for wanting more, for taking the person who I was, or rather who I thought I was only about an hour before and completely changing them so that I barely knew who I was anymore.
"You'll get used to it" he promised, giving my right breast one last squeeze. "Now get dressed and go home. I'll see you tomorrow in class."
I did as I was told. I stood and turned my back on him, got dressed, gathered up my things and left without a word or a look back. When I got home I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold trying to wash away the shame of what had happened. As I laid in bed that night I felt a sudden rush of fear take over me. For every mark that he noticed on me we would have to meet but if I didn't cut myself my step-father would think that I was getting better and our late night visits would resume. How was I going to be able to handle seeing him in class? His eyes watching me knowing what I looked like under my little Catholic school's outfit and anytime that he wanted he could bring up the memory of what I looked liked. I began to wonder which was the lesser of two evils then I herd the door open slowly and soft footsteps moving across my bedroom floor to my bed. A chill ran up my spine. I think it was a rather easy question to answer.
That first meeting with Allen happened about a year ago and since then I had seen Allen many times and my 'education' as he liked to call it had continued and extended. We went from him feeling me up and giving me a hand job, to eating me out and even to go so far as to enter me with not one, not two, yes three fingers, in addition to other odds and ends that he had lying around his office and sometimes not even all in the same place. There were times when he called a special session (this was when we had gone to long without one) and although I could have considered it a breach of our agreement but in a sense I was so happy to simply be receiving pleasure and attention from someone that I went willingly not even asking after a while what was the reason that he had called me down. After a few visits he and I fell into a kind of normalicy, he would tell me to do some deplorable job in his classroom after school and such as cleaning off the desks, washing the boards or something of that nature or any job in general that would make sure that by the time I had completed it that the school was pretty much empty so that our time together would not be disturbed while he experimented with the erotic side of pain and it's tie in toward pleasure. During this time he brought in toys from home clothespins for the nipples, paddles, vibrators, pretty much anything to torture and tease me. Some days he would let me get off, some days not, and it was the days that I was denied pleasure that I prayed to here my step-fathers foot falls to be herd outside my room just so that he could come in and remove the tension that had been placed sadistically between my legs. Having so much need being place there at times almost drove me insane.
What was wrong with me? I knew that it was wrong I wasn't emotionally attached to either of them but more so to the pleasure that they were able to give me twisted as it may have been. I knew I didn't love them but the need was so great that I had to get it from somewhere, someone had to fill this void that had been growing inside of me. Would the divine forgive me for what I was doing? Would he give me a second chance to make up for my actions? Was there another way out that I couldn't see? Would it ever end? These were questions that I asked so many times and with so much severity that I barely ever slept anymore with my mind being so preoccupied. At times I went for days without sleep but becoming so groggy that I finally broke down and went to the local drug store in order to get something that would get me enough sleep to be able to function. It wasn't that I was afraid that something would happen to me while I slept although looking back I suppose that that could have been a possibility, but as I said there had been many things running through my brain and these things all combined as well as the normal life problems that one encounters in high school meant for some very bad dreams. I hated school and I hated home so I23 did the only thing I could think of to allow me to survive and still be in an environment which allowed me in some small way to get away form them both, I got a part time job.
I applied at a book store about three or four blocks from my house, the store was small and dirty but it did good business and allowed me to go right from school to work and be there until about 9 or 10 o'clock which kept the chances of running in to my step-dad slim. I was working there for about 5 or 6 months when the store manager told me that he wanted to make me the night time manager he said it was because I had a strong work ethic and because he had come to place a large amount of trust in me. In all honesty I think he simply wanted to have his evenings free so in his mind giving me a title and making me feel important was a simple way to do it. Even though I knew that I was being used to certain degree I was happy to accept his offer, I had a decent paying job, was out of the house socializing with people and because of this it allowed me opportunities for my true personality to come out.
The shop was located on the north side of Chicago and in order to cater to the local population the owner had allowed the addition of a gay/lesbian section to enter the store complete with erotica. This near the closing time of the store this section saw it's fair share of customers and some came in regularly enough to where I became decent acquaintances with them and once in a while our relationships extended to more then simply a clerk, client, and eventually once in a while I would go out for a coffee or a late night movie or something of the sort. I never actually officially dated any of the girls who showed interest in me and it was weird because I wanted to be as close with them as I could without allowing them to get to close to figure out some of the more intimate details of my life and dating them would have opened doors into my world that I was not at the time ready for anyone to see. It was through these outings that I became acquainted with the club The Captain. The Captain is as far as I am concerned the best full nude strip club on Chicago's north side. The minimum age for entering the club is 18 but most girls can get in at 16 if they put some effort in and look the part. It was here that I found people who I could relate to and whose company I truly enjoyed. I knew that I was a paycheck to them, I knew that once the money would stop so would they, but being that I knew and understood how their profession worked and they knew that I got it as well it was a great working relationship. I enjoyed the company of the women that I met at the store but there was still a feeling of being uncomfortable and very protective about what I said or did that eventually I found myself blowing them off more and more and spending a good chunk of my time as well as my paycheck at The Captain's. I would normally stop by at least once or twice a week sometimes more depending on how life at home was and simple spend my evening, talking with the girls, getting dances, finishing up whatever homework I was unable to get done at the store, and above all relaxing. It was my little bit of security and to have even that little bit I was very grateful.
So, after about a year of the lifestyle including, lying, solitude, punishment and pleasure I sat now in my last class, as the last day of school was looking to draw to a close, looking at my final exam for English which Mr. Allen Kincade had just handed back to be with a big red fat F in the upper left corner of the front page with a note written under it saying simply, 'See me after class..'
"Is there a problem Vanessa?"
"No Mr. Kincade…sir," almost forgot myself there for a moment, and yes he had insisted that the sir be carried over to the classroom setting, "Everything is fine" I said as I turned my final over face down on my desk.
"Good. Then I suggest that you quiet down. I would really hate to give you a detention on your last day." I turned and realized that everyone's eyes were on me.
"Yes, sir." and he turned away and headed down the line to finish passing out the rest of the papers with a smile hiding just a little under the surface. That smug, impotent, asshole. I could feel the eyes from the rest of the class all on my burning into my skin it taking all my will power not to turn and acknowledge them. How could he do this to me? He knew what was riding on the successful completion of my finals, my life, my graduation, my freedom. For months I had been saying to myself that I would kill him if , fantasizing about watching his heart beat it's last if he stopped me from graduating, from walking out those doors today a free woman with no ties to any institution I spent the rest of the class watching the clock, biting my tongue to prevent anything from accidentally slipping out that would get me in worse trouble then I was already in and trying very hard to resist the urge to go up to Allen and belt him right in the mouth. Finally three o'clock came with the bell shattering the silent center which I had placed myself in. I made no move to get up at first, watching all the other students file out of the room, most of the seniors stopping off at the teacher's desk to thank him for his wonderful teaching, style, ability, to reach them and help them experience the love of literature, with one girl telling him that she thought that he was a genius and was asking about keeping in contact with him after she graduated and blah, blah blah until I was almost physically sick Even though all of their conversations made me absolutely nauseous because of them there began to grow in me a feeling of curiosity. If all these girls wanted to get in his pants why did choose me who had shown no interest at all. Maybe he enjoyed the chase, the ability to get someone who was shy and unwilling to do whatever it was that he wanted and the more that I fought him the more fun he had, I half cursed myself for not noticing it earlier. But I suppose had I not fought back and put up some resistance he would have won and it I did put up resistance he still would have won being able to derive pleasure from both situations, it was truly a double edged sword.
Allen did a great job of responding to all the comments and then gently waving the students on in order to address the next person who was waiting to speak to him. Listening to him speak I saw that there was littler sincerity in what he said almost as if for him teaching wasn't the desire to mold young minds and make them ready for the future as many teacher say their mission is. To him this job was about little more then a paycheck, and I guess that I unfortunately counted and the 'little', yay for me.
Finally the last girl left the room and I grabbed my bag and rose to approach him. As usual his eyes didn't look up from what he was working on, he acknowledged you when he was good and ready to do so, as I made the seemingly long walk up to his desk. "Excuse me sir. I was wondering if I could have a word with you about my final exam.." Nothing, no movement to acknowledge me what so ever. "Excure me sir," I said again "I'm sorry I don't mean to be prudent but I really do need to speak with you about my test."
At this point he looked up and for a moment I was scared. I had found out during the course of our sessions that those hard back, leather covered books that he kept in his office were more then for show. I left many times with a very sore ass and lately he had been threatening to use little women on me, which was especially thick and I was in no hurry for it. "I would like the boards cleaned, the floor swept, and the desks to be wiped down and once you have finished, you may head down to my office and we will discuss your exam. But for now go return your books so that I may have time to gather my things and be out of your way." I knew it wouldn't do any good to argue so I left to do as I was told without him ever looking up from his read. I went to my locker and quickly cleaned it out. I wasn't the type to decorate so I didn't have to worry about bringing all that much stuff home. Once clean I went to drop off my books the woman sitting behind the table recognized me as a senior by the color plaid on my skirt wished me good luck and a happy graduation which I returned with as much of a smile as I could muster, took my voucher and headed back to Allen's room.
I arrived back at his room to find it completely deserted just as he promised As I opened the door to the small storage closet to get the bucket and sponge to clean the board I began to think back to the first time that he introduced these cleaning arrangements. Part of the reason I thought at first it was because in order to complete everything he gave me to do it made me have to stay later making sure that more people had left the building before he and I had some of our more extreme sessions. But after awhile I realized that the 'chores' were intended to create a little more suspense for both him and I having to wait just a little longer for what we both knew was coming. I remember cleaning those desks for the first time, what seemed like so long ago wondering why he was having me do such remedial work if he was going to take his payment for keeping his mouth shut out of my ass anyway. I remember washing the board and wiping the desks just as I was doing now and in some place in the back of my mind actually being afraid of why he wanted me to stay. What new thing was he going to do to me that I wouldn't be able to tell anyone about and with no one around. No one around to hear me scream. He had said to me a few times before that he wished that he could do more to me but because of the number of people around that made some of them impossible, and he added, it was a shame because he was sure that I would have enjoyed them. He had mentioned in passing, ball gags, plugs, clamps, and all sorts of interesting toys that he would have loved to use on me.
Then just as now the mere thought of these things being used on me, of what could happen to me got me wet. I still didn't completely understand why it turned me on so much. Maybe it was because there was very little choice in what was happening to me and my ability to prevent it.. Maybe it was the idea that what I was doing was outside the societal norm and I had gained a control to master emotions which allowed these things to happen to me and not drive me insane. Of course there was always the physical pleasure mixed with pain to look forward to, and yes I enjoyed the pain as well, and I also loved the fact that he was doing this to me and wanted me out of all the girls in the school. I know that may seem odd but think about being piled on with nothing but rejection your whole life and then one person paying attention to you whether it be good or bad. It gave me the thought that maybe there was something special about me, something that I couldn't see but he could and all of this was simply a test to see if I could handle it or not. I knew that in the last year I had lied to myself to keep sane but even I know when enough is enough.
I finished gathering up the dirt that I had swept up and giving the room one last look over, and finding things satisfactory I gathered up my bag and left the room closing the door behind me. If I had known that they were coming down the hall I would have found something else in the room to take care of or at least made myself look busy until they passed but unfortunately that was not the case.
"Damn Riggi, how did you manage to piss off Mr. Mincade on the last day of school?"
"Yeah, I didn't know that you were that tactless."
The voices belonged to Betsy Reynolds and Angela Pearson respectively, two of the most popular girls at St. Joseph's Catholic school. They both had near perfect GPA's and from what I herd Betsy was my class' valedictorian, both had been accepted to Ivy League colleges and on top of that they were dating two of most attractive and most intelligent varsity football players that were available from the neighboring boy's catholic high school. Unfortunately although they had all these things wonderful things going for them none of it transferred over into their personalities. To their friends they were awesome individuals who did anything to help them out, unfortunately to the nameless rabble who weren't fortunate enough to be counted among the lucky individuals within their click they wouldn't stoop so low to help you pick up your books in the middle of the hall if your bag opened up during the middle of changing classes and then there were the people like me who had a soft spot and a need for tenderness, and who unwillingly provided them with an extremely large amount of ammunition, they were down right cruel. Angela more so then Betsy, and the only reason that I say that is because Angela and I had a history. Maybe that wasn't really fair because I still don't know who had come up with the plan, nor whose idea it was that Angela be the one to put it in to motion, I mean maybe she didn't want to and the outcome was simply because of peer pressure. No, whatever the reason was surrounding it she had gone along with it and her inability to stand up to her group and her decision to be a conforming bitch, not to mention trashing my reputation even more seriously brought down any respect, compassion, or understanding that I might have wasted on her. Let me explain.
Back around the time it was rumored that I was a lesbian throughout the halls of the school was around the time that Angela transferred in. At the end of things I found out that her final task to be able to enter into Betsy's click was to find out one way or the other about me, all of this of course without my knowledge. Because I was considered weird, abnormal, a complete mystery to many people I never had many close ties to people and the idea of approaching any of the girls in my school and the idea of approaching them and asking the ones I knew to swing my way on a date was almost unthinkable. I knew Angela was new to the school and saw her as an innocent individual who had spent time with me in the halls, sat with me at lunch, and after a while I felt with her what I thought to be a mutual attraction I asked her out. She said yes and I was on cloud nine, that is until the next night when we had agreed to go to the movies. When the lights in the theater dimmed I leaned over, I think she thought to whisper in her ear, and gave her a small, tender, just to show I cared and first kiss on the cheek and that was all it took. With the previews blaring from the speakers she stood up calling me a lesbo, a dyke, a clam bumper, and practically every other degrading thing that she could say before she spilled her popcorn and soda on my and ran out of the theater. Although you would say that having been completely embarrassed in a public place as well as having popcorn and soda dumped on you wouldn't be bad enough what made this whole scenario suck even worse was that that girl had been my ride home and figuring that she had already left I betrayed and bewildered, settled in my wet seat to see the movie that I had paid twice over to see and tried to figure out a decent explanation and plea to give Angela by the time I saw her next, which it being Friday at the time wasn't more then likely going to be until Monday if I couldn't get a hold of her. I knew that she would go and tell the rest of the school about what had happened if I couldn't get a hold of her and in the back of mind I already knew it was already too late. As I expected I couldn't get a hold of her throughout the weekend and when Monday rolled around I felt as if I had been delivered into the hands of the devil with Lesbian jokes, statements, and jeers all day long. The real punch to the gut was when Angel and Betsy who were both in my math class that year had to make sure that the whole class knew about me, decided to recount the entire account of the theater incident.
Now they stood wanting to pull that card on me, one last insult before they would never see me again, nothing like leaving on good terms, but little did they realized that because of the mood I was in there was little chance that they could make it drop any lower. So instead of fighting I did what I had become very accustomed to doing in the last few months which was simply to agree with them and walk away. I could heat the taunts and jeers behind me as I walked down the hall so that I could make hopefully the last stop of my high school career, Mr. Allen Kincade's office.
I reached his office my heart pounding as usual, my head filled with questions such as how long would he keep me in tortured suspense until I would be able to feel his hands on my body, his mind probing my mind, and his lack of morals pushing against mine, pushing my limits but there was only one way to find out and at this point I reached my hand out and knocked. Immediately I received a response from inside to come in which was unusual, normally I was kept waiting in suspense for anywhere from 1-5 minutes so it was nice but still unusual. I opened the door and passed through the small hallway to find the typical scene of Mr. Kincade sitting at his desk pouring over something. I approached him eyes on him the whole time waiting for any sign of acknowledgement, an old game and I knew already who the winner would be but I played not having the choice to do anything different. I put my bag down at the side of the desk and kneeled in my usual place at his side facing him, my eyes intent and watchful and on him as always.
"What brings us together today Vanessa?"
"Your desire to see me sir."
At this he looked up from his reading and gave me an intense look, "Good,very good. I have trained you well and you have learned so much."
"I must say that you have, "said an unfamiliar voice. The voice came from behind me and I dared not turn my head without being told to do so and I realized that someone sat in the chair that I never had the privilege to sit in, that I hadn't noticed when I came in. If possible my heart began to beat all the quicker at the realization that someone else was here, they knew who I was, they had seen he and I together, and then the most important question came to my mind, would they tell? My mind jumped to the conclusion that of course they would. I'd have to explain myself, and I wasn't so much a victim in this scenario as I was a willing participant. What would my step-dad say? What would he do when he found out that I had allowed another man to do things to me when I told him that it wasn't men that I was into? What would happen to me? Would he send me away like he initially planned?
"My you have trained her well. Her whole future hangs in the balance this very moment and she denied the fulfillment of her curiosity of finding out in order to please you." Her voice brought me back to myself , because it most definitely was a she, and with each word she said I herd her come closer, until I swear I could hear her breathing no more then three inches from me. I could smell her perfume, sweet rather then flowery. I resisted the urge even then to turn and get even a glance at her shoes and rather raised my eyes from the carpet where they had been transfixed the entire time that she had been talking and brought them instead to the face of the man who was sitting in front of me. To my surprise the reaction that he was having was not one that I expected. His face held no trace of fear but rather on of calmness and complete control of his emotions, as well as something else that he was trying desperately to hide. It wasn't fear, no not anything close to that. What, desire? Close but still not it. Anticipation? Yes!!! Anticipation, desire, excitement, thrill, that was it and even though these were not bad things seeing them made my blood run cold and really got me thinking and wondering what honestly was going on. As he looked past me a smile began to spread over his face, he tried to stifle it as soon as he realized what he was doing but it was too late I had seen it and I broke out in a fear. A fear so thick I could taste it, one that coated my tongue and my throat so heavily that I barely was able to breath let alone talk. After a moment his face cleared and his eyes turned to me and the weight of his gaze drew my attention to him completely. I could still feel the presence of the person behind me pressing on my back like a heavy but I struggled to keep all of my attention on him.
"Is my room nice and clean Vanessa?" Being unable to do anything else I nodded. "Good now let's talk about your final exam." Amazing he was getting right to the point today, maybe this visit wasn't going to be so bad after all. "You need my class to graduate, and what's more is that I know that you need to pass all of your finals to keep the unwritten deal that you already established with your dean and counselor." How had he found out? "So today will be our last session and I knew that you would have come and done as I said without the extra…incentive but I had to make sure. You make it through today and show me how much you have learned I will change your grade and you will graduate as planned and if not…" By now he was leaning in close to me, so close that I could smell the remnants of mints on his breath. "If not then you'll have to spend another year in this school and in my own personal care. Now before we begin understand that today is not like anything that we have ever done before and if you need to stop and leave I understand why but the consequences for leaving will be the same. Do you understand?"
I nodded and I knew that that whoever was behind me was involved in what was going to happen to me and my nod was the cue for them to behind me to begin. I felt the distance between us close and I shifted my weight from one knee to the other hoping that it would cover up my uneasiness unfortunately I was wrong.
"Perhaps this young one is not as well behaved as would have thought. See how she shifts?" I felt my cheeks blush and lowered my head slightly in order to hide the shame that burned on my cheeks.
"See how she hangs her head now, Maria?" Allen said. She is trying. She is trained well but not only is having a new person a challenge for her let alone a woman. I know her tastes run however, unless there is something that I have missed through coffee room gossip and her actions she hasn't had the opportunity to act on them in a very long time. I knew that teacher's talked amongst themselves but until now I never knew to what degree.
"Perhaps" and I herd her take a step closer, the shift of her weight the rustle of her clothes. It was early on but I wanted to get up and walk away even if it meant spending another year in this hell hole, but then something happened which made me freeze to my spot and I promised myself that I would stay as long as the session lasted and I would serve whomever he told me to serve especially if it was this woman behind me. I felt her place her hand on my shoulder giving them a firm squeeze and sending a rush of pleasure through my body. I began to relax as her small bur firm hands began working the muscles in my back, shoulders, and then moved to my neck. Her hands trailed along my hair line playing with the small ones at the base. Short even by guy standards, a #2 blade had been used this time on the whole head taking off all 8 inches instead of just getting the normal trim. She sent shivers down my spine and a moan came from my throat as she moved her hand across my whole head. So long, it had been so long. Her hand went tight enough to pull a cry from my throat. My hands shot up as she pulled my head back. Throat back and tight, my hands trying to pry her hands loose, I opened my eyes and found myself staring in to the most beautiful green eyes that I had ever seen. She gazed down at me with those eyes which were framed by a thin face, high cheek bones, thin lips, and a nose that fit her fact perfectly. Even though her mouth held a smile of knowing and pleasure her eyes held a look of warning and temptation, Seeing this look I allowed her to tighten the hold that she had on me and tucked her hands behind my back and stared back up into her face, patient, waiting.
"Well maybe I was mistaken" she said her eyes locked on to me. "She is still learning that is apparent but you cans see that she tries very hard to please" her hand petting me, stroking my cheek, damn I wanted her, wanted her to take me and use me as she wished with the only hope that I would not disappoint her.
"I told you that you she would be to your liking if you gave her a chance. I am offering her to you if you still want her" I herd Allen's voice say and I was absolutely terrified that she would say no and pass me by.
"Oh I want her." She pulled back a little harder forcing my eyes and a small sound of pain out of me. "I definitely want her." Her mouth came close to me and I felt her warm breath on my face, then on my lips. I could feel the electricity pass between us as she planted a kiss on me. Light and chase at first, and then the force that was behind the kiss intensified and I felt her lops press against mine, so close, and so hard that it began to hurt, her tongue forcing itself deep inside my mouth tasting me inside and out, stealing all my breath before she finally released both my mouth and my hair and I bent forward to try to catch my breath.
"Stand up" she said. "I opened my eyes and stood like she said, hands still clasped behind my back. I noticed that Allen had moved out of his chair and instead had taken a spot leaning against the wall in the unoccupied wall of the room. He had stepped back and for now I was no longer his but Maria's and through pleasing her I would therefore please him.
"Turn around." I did and I finally truly saw the woman who for no other reason then me allowing it had such a strong hold on me at this particular moment. Her hair was longer then mine but not even chin length, styled with a few curls her and there, brown to my black. Her skin was darker then my pale skin by not by much. She was slightly shorter then me but had an air about her that expressed true confidence and strength of character. She stood in jeans a white T-shirt and sandals but they may as well have been a business suit with as much power as she commanded in them. Her eyes locked onto mine and held me with her gaze so strongly that I thought that if she would look away I would slide to the floor out of lack of support, a slight smile crossing her face. She brought her hands up once again, running her hands through my hair, down my cheeks, and running her hands across my lips which I kissed without even thinking about it. But despite this small amount of attention paid to her she continued on, her hands falling on my breasts giving them a firm enough squeeze to show me that her power wasn't only mental but could be physical also. She trailed across my ribs and went behind me and I felt her fingernails digging into me through the shirt, pressing hard as they hit my spine then moving lower they lifted my skirt and she grabbed my ass. She moved like a jungle animal playing with its prey as she moved slowly from the back of my legs to the front, snapping the elastic band of my underwear. I felt them rise slightly and felt the warmth of her hand as they disappeared under the thin material and I stiffened.
"Open your eyes. I want to see what you're thinking, what you what and what you fear." I opened my eyes and looked into the deep pools of hers they held a knowing and a confidence as well as reflecting the fear and uneasiness in my own. "Perhaps this is a little too much to begin with , yes? You don't know me, and I know you but not the way that I want, I want you too show me how you pleasure yourself." She came in close bringing her mouth so close to my ear that she could have stuck her out her tongue and tasted me if she wanted. "You know what I want don't you? I want you to masturbate for me. You'll do that for me won't you? Such a small request for what you're about to receive in return. I felt her fingers move slightly, making contact with me it seemed with only the heat her body under my underwear, teasing me, making me have to beg with my body to get all that she had to offer. "You'll so this right? You'll do this to please me?" It wasn't a question so much as a statement.
"Of course" I said, my breath heavy, my voice barely above a whisper and full of want and desire. "Anything that I am able to give you."
"Of course…." She prompted.
"Of course ma'am."
"Good girl" giving me a few light but firm pats on the cheek. "Now I want you to move whatever you have to and climb on the desk and show me how you like to be pleasured.
"Yes ma'am." I turned and looked at the desk, there wasn't much on it luckily. I moved the keyboard to the computer off to the side as well as the papers that were in front of it. The small desk lam that he had I moved to the floor. Absolutely none of this was done with any sort of grace. I felt her eyes on me the whole time causing my hands to shake and my face to go red from the embarrassment of being unable to control myself. I kept waiting for a comment shaming me or ridiculing me for my slowness as well as my ability to be a complete clutz but none ever came and for that I was grateful. When I had the desk cleared off and I climbed up as she wanted, back to the wall. The desk was long but narrow so I had to bend my legs and spread them as wide as I could to be able to keep myself from hanging off the edge. Once I was sure that I wasn't going to fall off the edge I braved a look upward and gave the room a quick once over and found that Maria had moved the desk chair about a foot back from the desk but it remain directly in front of me so that when I began she would have a good seat and be able to see everything. My eyes then drifted over to Allen who was still in the far left corner of the room and gazing intently at me. I tried to pull my eyes away from him but couldn't, how could he do this to me? How could he put me in such a position?
I saw something move to my right and I found out two things when I turned to find out what it had been that I had seen. The first thing was that Maria had since my glancing at Allen had stood up and was now standing as close to the desk as possible. The second thing I found was that I had made a terrible mistake by looking at Allen so intently and so long but before I was able to apologize her hand was around my throat pushing me firmly against the wall The grip was tight enough to make me pay attention to her but not enough to cut off my air, and even though she wasn't choking me she still had me scared.
Her eyes locked on me and all traces of a smile having left her face she began to speak. "Understand that you are mine now young one. That man over there" she nodded in Allen's general direction but never took her eyes off of me, "no matter what passed between you before today does not matter. You gave yourself over to me and so now you are mine. Or maybe you don't want this as bad as you thought, and maybe I should release you from your services to me?" I began to panic at the thought. "Allen maybe she doesn't want this." I quickly glanced in his direction and seeing no help there I moved my eyes back to her the panic rising in my throat. "Do you baby? Do you want me" she said making each word softer and more inviting. With a hand around your throat it's hard to say much of anything but I managed a nod. "Good that's what I thought." Tightening on my throat a little more, she looked down and first noticed where my hand had moved and had been since she had first fastened her hand on my throat.
"Well, well, well, you little pain slut" the word cutting me to the quick but turning me on all the same. "So you like a little bit of pain do you? Allen I think that all those punishments that you have been telling me about have not deterred her actions at all and she has rather been enjoying them. Isn't that right baby? You love it don't you baby?" Her hand slipped between my legs and moving the underwear out of the way I felt her running her hands over my lips which were by this point so wet. "Your so wet." She pushed even harder on my throat and I felt myself grow wetter and began to move my hips hoping to get her hand to even brush my clit. She chuckled lightly amused, "Well that answers my question" she moved her hand away. I had been close so close. "Take your underwear off baby and let me see you."
I did as asked and with one hand began to pleasure myself while with the other I held up my skirt so that she would be able to get a better view of me. I closed my eyes and began to think about Allen, about my step-dad, about all the girls I wanted but knew that I would never be able to get. I began to think about all the pleasure that I would have gotten and how different my life would have been if I hadn't turned out to be who I was. I was brought out of my thoughts by a sharp pain on my inner thigh, like when your playing pencil pop and someone missed and hits your finger only in this case the location was different. I opened my eyes but did not stop moving my hand, now feeling my juices running down into my ass crack, and saw Maria sitting in the chair which seemed to have been moved a little closer holding the implement that was the cause of both my pain and pleasure, a pointer. Something that I hadn't seen since kindergarten.
"I believe I told you before that I wanted you to keep your eyes open. I want to seen them open at all times. I will not tell you this again, understand? In fact spread you legs a little wider, you have them so close together that I can barely see anything." In fact my legs were so wide that the muscles were beginning to spasm with the strain.
"Yes ma'am" and I repositioned where my legs really hadn't changed but at least it seemed like I had made an effort to do as she asked but when I began to settle back I felt her weapon on my thighs again forcing them a little wider still.
"That's much better" She didn't have to tell me to continue because I think I would have even if every moral fiber in my body began screaming at me, she had me so turned on at this point that it would have taken nothing short of a direct or a threat of extreme pain for me not to. I kept my eyes open except for the two or three times, at which I quickly opened them again due to the power of her weapons. The pain driving me and getting me more and more turned on and excited filling my cunt with heat as I played with my clit, and explored myself with my fingers both inside and out, pulling at the piercing on my hood to add a little more pain to the mixture, finally beginning to know myself for the first time. I slit my eyes watching her but at the same time allowing myself to go inside my head and pull memories, which made the head in me grow to the point that I thought it would over flow and burn me alive with passion. Finally it exploded and I felt myself shake and convulse as if a life time of pleasure had all been spent in the one instant. I moved my hand away slowly which I found was covered in my own juices and again I felt the sting and I looked up at my mistress for the day.
"Don't stop. You didn't think that we were done did you? Take off your shoes and socks. Come on now hurry up" I moved as fast as I could, my head still woozy from the orgasm. I removed my Chucks and stuffed my socks into them letting them drop on to the floor. "Open your shirt, and remove your bra, I want to see you pay some attention to those pretty little breasts when you play with yourself this time." I did everything she asked and began again, starting slowly eyes open and fixed on her. "You like this don't you, showing yourself to me the way you are? You love feeling helpless and completely out of control." At this I sped up my breathing increasing quickly. "That's it baby, faster, harder. Damn you're fighting it so hard. What's wrong darlin' afraid that your liking getting off to a complete stranger a little to much? Is it conflicting with all those moral codes and laws that catholic school has put into your head? Are you afraid that you are going to want to do this for others even if they don't want to see it?" I could feel the heat rising again just as intense, I couldn't hold it anymore, couldn't hold it.
"Don't you cum. If you do this will cut across more then your thighs. Come off the desk, take off the rest of your clothes, and come over to me on your hands and knees, and kneel by me." Was she kidding even if I rubbed it wrong with my thighs I was going to loose it but I fought back the sensation and removed the rest of my clothes and went to her on hands and knees, my thighs burning from the firm smacks that I had received and knelt by her, hands crossed behind me, staring into her dark pools, waiting. She leaned forward placing her elbows on her knees staring at me I could feel the sweat that the previous orgasm had given me running down my back giving me the shivers. She smoothed the hair around my ears and my temples. "You are so beautiful." I herd her whisper. "I am going to enjoy this immensely." She took my face in her hands and brought me to her and placed her lips upon mine and the orgasm that she wanted me hold rushed through me with such intensity that I almost bit the soft magical tongue that had invaded my mouth once again and began to explore, this time much more thoroughly. She kissed me firmly pressing into me so hard that I could taste blood in my mouth from where her teeth had cut into my lip. Which she was kissing me her hands began to search other places. At first I was so amazed but the quick and tantalizing action that I hadn't noticed that one hand had moved to the back of my head bringing me even closer to her and her other hand had worked its way down to my breast caressing it making the nipple firm and hard.
While finding myself being pulled into ecstasy I found myself trying to take in as much of her as I could. She smelled like citrus, sweet and wild, a scent that gave you comfort but also made you wary. When she forced my mouth open with her own I gave in and found that she tasted the same, wild with a bit of a bite. I wanted her. I wanted to touch her and feel the more intimate parts of her, I wanted her to know that I could giver her pleasure as well as receive. I found myself dreaming as se fed at me about what lay under her clothes, undressing her in my mind, wanting to run my hands under her shirt and jeans wondering if I would find cotton, lace, anything at all? I wanted to run my tongue over her stomach, her breasts and then a sharp pain brought me back to reality. I looked into her deep hazel pools in which a sadistic glint appeared. She looked down and I followed her gaze to my chest where I saw the glint of something metal attached to each of my nipples. Seeing that her gaze was fixed I risked her displeasure and lowered my head a little more and saw that each of my nipples held a clamp with a think but solid metallic chain running between them and felt my face go red again. I herd her chuckle lightly to herself which became a deep amused laughter that made me both excited as well as afraid at the same time. "Look at me" she said but I couldn't do it. I could not raise my head and let her see the burn on my face. My head felt about a hundred pounds as if I hadn't slept in years, I could find nothing within me no strength that I could have tapped to complete her command. I felt the chain rise off my chest and a tug given to it which made my nipples burn with pain. My eyes shot up to find Marie fingering the chain and waiting patiently for me. I looked into her eyes and saw my reflection and I could barely stand the sight of me and my eyes began to drop once again. "Don't lower your eyes darlin'. I told you before that I want to see what you're feeling." I was able to hold her gaze for a few moments at a time but feeling as if I had weights on my eyes they quickly fell downward again. "It's confusing isn't it?" I looked up at her confused as to what she just said, and she saw the questioning on my face and continued on. "What your feeling now is pleasurable but strange, right? You hear about women being turned on by men caressing them holding them, but never about pain being a security blanket a source of erotica, is that it baby?" I watched as her hand as it traced along the chain pulling it taught but not hard out in front of me and alternating pulled the chain in the direction of one of the clamps and then the other which sent pain streaming through my body. I tried to hide the pain behind my eyes, attempted to hide the pain and anguish caused by the truth of what she said, but as she was increasing and decreasing the speeds and the intensity that she pulled on the chains I could feel myself trying to pull away from the pain only making it worse then hearing s soft moan escape from me I herd her laugh at me amused.
I couldn't take it anymore I was ashamed, I was exposed I was raw and I wanted to hide so I did the only thing I could, I closed my eyes and hid in my mind, but I was brought out of it as I suddenly felt as if I was laying on a scratchy bed, my chest heave from the wind being knocked out of me and my chin sore from hitting something solid. I opened my eyes and found myself looking up at her neatly pleated jeans, I found that I was laying on one of her hands which was near my chest and my breasts were on pure fire. I realized that she had brought me down; she had brought me down by the chain which she had attached to me. I tried to rise but she still grasped the chain which when I went to move sent a new wave of fire through my body as if being stabbed by a red hot poker. Unable to rise I turned my head to try to look at her with my cheek pressed tightly against the carpet, eyes wet, and them as well as my body full of pain, all I could do was wait. I hadn't listened to her, I hadn't pleased her which was apparent. I was sorry, I was so very sorry. She had moved so that she could look at me, and see my face, and whatever look was on my face at that moment made her face soften but the grip that was on the chain remained the same as if she was afraid that I was going to try to use her emotions against her.
"I'm sorry" I whispered. Tears began to slide down my cheeks onto the carpeting that no longer had anything to do with pain, or the yearning that had grown between my legs, or even the thought about being naked in front of a teacher and his wife allowing myself to take part in things that I never would have thought in my wildest dreams that I would have taken part in. No the pain I spoke of was the pain of pure shame. The pure shame and disappointment with myself that I had failed in what she had asked me to do. I couldn't look at her so I turned my head away from her as tears continued to run down my face. I herd her move and feared that she was going to land a blow on me for not listening to her or from turning away from her so by body tensioned and my hands balled up into fists to order to help receive the shock from the blow I thought that I was going to receive. Instead what I felt was a hand on the back of my neck playing with the small hairs with soothing nature that was tender as well as kind. I relaxed and eventually turned my face back to her to look into her eyes.
"You took so much young one. You have made me proud and you have nothing to be ashamed of." I wanted to jump up and hug her. I had done good. I warmed from the inside out and with her placing a firm yet gentle grip she helped me to a kneeling position where I wiped my face readying myself with a new vigor and a new aim to make her happy and to push myself even harder, to take more. "That's better. Now I have a proposition to pose to you." She moved her hands over my body, touching, searching, exploring, with a lover's genuineness and a child's curiosity and I strained in waiting desire to find out what she wanted. At that moment I was willing to do anything that she asked in order to prove my devotion to her as well as my thanks for her kind words. "Do you still want to pleasure me?" I stared at her unblinking at the question that she had put forth to me, completely shocked at the question. What was she talking about of course I wanted to please her that's what I had been striving to do the whole time that we had spent together. My mouth was so dry from the excitement of the idea that I simply nodded and waited for her to tell me what she wanted me to do. "Alright then young one." Once she had removed her shoes and socks she placed a hand square on my chest and moved me back from her about a foot so that she had room to stand up out of her chair. I watched her as her eyes moved over me; she was so tall that I felt insignificantly small compared to her. I watched with extreme interest as her hand moved down to her waist and she undid her belt pulling it out of the loops of her jeans and draped the heavy studded thing across her neck. She gave me a look and then went on undoing to the button and zipper with the pace that was not intentionally fast or slow but because of the situation the pace seemed excruciatingly slow, so slow that I almost moved to help, but then remembering myself I exercised every ounce of self control and waited. Finally having completed unfastening them I watched as she peeled her tight and faded jeans off of her hips and down past her thighs and calves so that she was standing with nothing on her lower half except a pair of black silk underwear. She closed the distance between us with one graceful movement and the sudden awareness of her being so close filed me with a powerful anxiety. Her scent was intoxicating, it smelled warm and inviting and simply like her.
Her hands moved her silk down to the point of no return where it would only take a few more inches and she and I would see her for who she truly was. She was ready willing and able to open herself in the most intimate way that one persona can be with another. She was calm cool coherent with herself, confident. I moved my head in closer to make the scent a more and more solid memory a scent that would mark her and her alone in my memory for all time.
I noticed that she had stopped just shy of what I was intently waiting to see not moving any further and looking at me as if for the first time I was not waiting on her for something but she on me. Being brave I leaned in towards her and for the first time noticed that she had brought them low enough that I could get a glimpse of her soft nest of hair just beginning to peak out above the elastic band. With my teeth, careful not to get any spit on the silk I slowly inched them down her legs to the floor, every now and then glancing up to be met by those dark shining pools filled with content amusement. When she was bare from the waste down in front of me she allowed me a moment to see her, to truly see her. She stepped closer to me so that the smell of her invaded my nostrils and if I had dared to I could have reached out with my tongue the slightest bit and I would have been able to taste her. I gazed at the recently trimmed mound of pubic hair that encircled her crotch and I began to fantasize about what it would feel like to push my tongue through it only with instinct as my guide for that spot that would make her proud of me, that spot which would give both her and I joy at the same time. She stepped even closer and I gazed up. "Do you know what to do, baby?" I nodded. "Please me" and that was all it took. I practically lunged into her, my mouth sucking my tongue searching for that single spot that by body worked giving all that pent up energy an outlet. She tasted good. Like water to a man dying of thirst, with no other way to describe it then pure ecstasy.
I worked around her outer lips feeling the freshly trimmed hair bristle on my tongue. I moved up her slit painfully slow so that I would cover every inch and find that spot of pleasure. Then, when I reached the point where the two lips met she shivered and what I had been holding back up to that point I unleashed. I attacked the spot with such furry that Maria had to step back and grab onto the chair in order to keep her balance. I herd her breath coming tight and fast. "Be careful young one I am a little older then you" she whispered a hint of mercy suggested in her voice. I herd her but I didn't care I was going to peak her no matter what I had to do. "Follow me young one and make sure that tongue stays on me." Without warning of what she was going to do she began to descend onto the floor on the way down showing the chair so that it would be out of the way. She lowered herself into a crab position and then into a full eagle on the floor and all the time I kept my mouth on her which is more difficult then it sounds. I was keeling before her with my ass in the air eating her out when I began to feel her move her hips and pushing into me making more and more contact begging with her body for me to dive into her and give her more faster harder. It seemed that the more aroused she grew the more beautiful she became. Her hands were clenched in tight fists at her side and she began to buck harder and higher and right when I thought that she was going to release and the orgasm flow over her lime water she bucked so hard that I lost her and unfortunately it did not go unnoticed. She sat up quickly and stared at me for a brief second almost a mixture of disbelief and expectancy.
In a futile attempt to rectify the situation I put my mouth back on her and looking up she did not ask me to stop but I could tell from the look in her eye that something bigger would be asked of me. She looked past me pointed off to another part of the room snapped, pointed at me and then snapped again. I her foot steps behind me but I didn't dare take my mouth off her again to look. The steps became louder until they were standing right behind me, then I felt something like the half of a small plastic Easter egg being placed over my throbbing clit. I felt someone push it tightly against my body and I almost went crazy because it held in the heat and increasing the throbbing and the pulsating and at the same time restricted any contact with that part of my body that would easy the sexual suffering in which I had been placed. The arm that was attached to the hand that had reached around the outside of my waist to put the egg in place was nude and well muscled, it was Allen's. I herd him shift behind me and I felt his stiff hard cock lightly smacking my cunt, teasing my lips, tasting the heat coming from that orifice that was yearning to be filled. I groaned out of frustration and he took this as his cue to move into me. He pushed his was slowly in which must not have been hard to do because I was so turned on and needy by this point that I knew I was well lubed and as he entered me I felt myself overflow and my juices begin to run down my leg. He pushed himself all the way in and a sigh followed my a moan escaped me. Maria echoed and I knew that she wanted to receive some of the pleasure that I got from her husband pounding away at me. So as he screwed me I tongue fucked her. He began slow