Miss-Demeaner

I grew up in a group home, but we had Group Therapy to help me deal with my issues…

My mother was kinda famous, or infamous. Nobody actually knew her, least of all me, and my father couldn’t handle it. So, he had a bout of temporary insanity, and got locked up, long after he got better. He tried to kill himself once, and they saved his life, but once they had him, they wouldn’t let go.

I’m not going into that, he adjusted to it, and he seemed happy the last time I saw him. I don’t know, because I vaguely remembered my mother’s Mask. That’s about all anyone ever saw of her, she wanted to be an Actress, then she met a pretty wealthy guy, got married, had kids, and then she started entertaining his friends.

She was just mommy. I wasn’t even 7 when dad found her stash. I never saw the pictures, except what little they could crop, to show on the news. I saw the boxes though, 3 of them. He found her storage locker, and dug through it until he found something, his mind couldn’t handle. Her victims wanted to avoid too much scandal, so they lied about her, in the media.

She wasn’t a prostitute. She certainly wasn’t a madam, she only worked alone. I suppose you could call her a dominatrix, but she never broke through the Glass Ceiling. She just lured powerful men down to her level, duct-taped them to it, took pictures, and blackmailed them.

So, she went to jail, dad went to the loony bin, and I got a concrete ceiling. Looking up, until lights out. They painted it blue, and either they, or some of the girls that lived there before me painted clouds on it. The walls were just dark green, leaf green, but they didn’t bother with pictures of trees. After lights out, the phosphorescent paint glowed like stars, and slowly faded as the light they soaked up all day ran out.

Then, I turned 13, and got a sheet cake. With fondant flowers, and my name on 1 of them. Candles in a star with 1 in the middle to make it a baker’s dozen. Across the dining hall, Jimmy got a cake with 7 candles, and footballs because he liked football. Nobody asked me what I liked, but if they had, I don’t know what I would tell them.

That ment moving my stuff to the teenage girl’s dorm. 13-16, some 17, or 18 year olds if they wanted to stick it out until they graduated high school. Columbia wasn’t a big city, like Saint Louis, or Kansas City. Let alone Chicago, New York, or Los Angeles, so the state only had 1 place to put us. Orphans, abandoned children, CPS, and anyone else who had no place else to go. They had adoption agencies, for those who could get adopted, but some of us.

Okay, me. I didn’t have behavior problems, I learned to control myself. I didn’t inherit my mother’s mask, but I put on my own. I didn’t smile, my mom always smiled, but her true face wasn’t tragedy. I can only imagine, honestly. In the few photos I saw, there was nothing, but she wouldn’t show her victims that, either. Some mysteries are better left alone, sometimes, you don’t want to solve them, because they can destroy you.

Ironically, I wound up using her maiden name. If I used her married name, then people would go “Oh yeah!” I had one of those faces, you recognize at first, but you can’t remember from where, until someone says Her name.

“Oh.” Then they see it. I didn’t realize it, but my mask. My blank mask, I hid my darkest thoughts, and feelings from showing? That made me look even more like her in the photos, because she wasn’t feeling anything in them. She was at work.

It was just Business for her.

“Huh!” I woke up, and the ceiling was grey. I blinked, but then I remembered the fluffy clouds. I didn’t bother looking up at it when I went to bed, I just climbed up on an empty bunk, and passed out. It had been a long day.

“So, Alex.” The girls started shaking out their blankets to make their beds. “What’s with you and that nurse?”

“Which one?”

“The male one, uh. Ward?” I probably should have tried to give him a better name, but it’s too late now, so I guess he’s stuck with it. Of course there’s male nurses too, but none of them on our side of the building.

“Oh,” I had to laugh, “Donny? He’s not a nurse, he’s just an Orderly.” Honestly, it’s no surprise that they knew we’re having an affair. We managed to keep it secret from the rest of the faculty, but we’re talking about maybe 30 adults at any given time. There’s more than 365 kids, though. So, you’re lucky if you don’t have to share your birthday with anyone, or even two.

I had to crawl around, drag the covers after me, then stand on the ladder to tuck it over my pillow. Honestly, I got to know him well enough to figure out what was driving. He wanted to be a doctor, probably a surgeon, not only because of the power, but also the prestige of that. Tell people all about the neurosurgery you had to do, and saving someone’s life over cocktails, but also the money to afford a penthouse apartment. At least 1 supercar, a collection of chronographs, because guys don’t really get to wear jewelry, but maybe even a supermodel to shop for.

He doesn’t want to feel like a failure, of course. So, someone has to tell him. Make him listen, and I guess I play the supermodel for him to buy reasonably decent clothes for. On his salary.

“What’s he like?”

I dropped down, and shrugged. “Sex, spanking, humiliation, trampling, denial, ruined orgasms, lingerie’…” I tapped the girl under me on the shoulder, “Can I get in my locker?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Right, so you want us to believe that you.”

I got out my math book, peeled the tape off the cover, and pulled out the polaroids. Dropped them on the bottom bunk. Then, I got out my English book…

“Huh, where did you get that dress?” They piled on them like a fumbled football.

“From him, of course. Too bad I only get to wear them in hotels, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, no. You can trust us.” They looked back and forth, “Right girls?” I had planned to find out who the Queen Bee was in this dorm, but that was easy! He told me not to say anything, to anyone of course, but come on, man.

How long do you think you could go without bragging? I lasted almost 8 months, but I got something out of it. I was the new girl, pretty much like the freshman in high school. I didn’t have to be the Queen Bee, honestly I didn’t want to be, but ordering all the teenage girls around?

I’ve got a Man. He pays me in lingerie for it. You want to kiss my feet or something? I can’t wear those boots here either, because then I’d have to explain where I got them from.

“Where’s the ones of him tied to the bed?”

“Oh, no. Well, first of all, no Bondage. He doesn’t trust me enough for that.” Honestly, I don’t know if I trust myself not to kill him, if I had him tied down so he couldn’t stop me. I don’t want to find that out, either. Then what am I going to do, move the body? Make it look auto-erotic? He’s a grown man, he weighs like 200lbs.

They still kinda have to respect that. “And second of all?”

“If I get caught with the pictures, he trusts me not to tell them who took them.” I’m not blackmailing him, and honestly the pictures help me, too. When I can’t even feel sexy, I can look at them, and remind myself how sexy I look to him. I know it’s co-dependent, I just don’t have a whole lot of options here.

“So, no nudes at all.”

“No childporn. These are just fashion photos.”

“But you’re 13.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t until yesterday.”

“And even so, that’s still too young for porno.”

“Oh yeah, smart. Your mom teach you that?” I barely know any of their names, and if I tried to keep track of them all talking at once, I’d break my neck whipping it around the beds.

“DID YOUR MOTHER! Huh, sorry. I. God, I’m sorry!” I ran off to the restrooms. To take a piss, a dump, and cry on the toilet.

“Alex?” Everyone knows who I am, here.

“Leave me alone.” Everyone knew who my Mother was, when I showed up.

“I’m sorry.”

“I gnoh. Snh!” It still felt a little better to hear it.

“I didn’t know.”

“Well, talk to Jody. She’s in my group, so ask her. Okay?”

“Okay.” She backed out, and let the door close. Jody had to come to me on the soccer field, and ask me if it was okay. To talk about what she knew from therapy, so we worked it out. I counted off on my fingers:

1) “Just the teenage girls. They’re old enough to hear it.

2) Just the landmines. They need to avoid the M word, Her name, and anything else like that.

3, 4, 5…) White collar crime, prison, money, powerful men…” I ran out of fingers.

“I understand.” We’re grouped together because of similar problems, but I can’t tell you about her’s. Parental issues: Girls. Similar, but different. Similar enough that she can sympathize, and long enough that she knows all the Triggers. That’s why I thought of her in the first place, so she can warn all the other girls, before I do something else I’ll regret.

I’m not violent, but only because I learned how to control myself, before I got big enough to hurt someone. Now that I am, I have an unhealthy outlet for that aggression, but I can kick the ball around the soccer field, too.

Somehow, he arranged to take over for the bus driver. We had a game, I wasn’t on the middle school soccer team, but we didn’t have a football field. We had 2 fences to watch the boys play, and fight in their yard. We had a tennis court, and they had basketball goals too, but they didn’t keep us apart, for our safety. They just made sure that we’re supervised whenever we were together.

Not that I was interested in any of them. Even before I had a man at the home to play with.

;

Queen B. (Prep/Rules)

“How was the game?” He didn’t even watch, but he opened the door for us to climb up the steps.

“Oh, you know.” I stood beside the handle, and let the girls pile in, but they were quiet. Tonight, win, or lose. If he’d driven us to a game and back before, he might even have noticed that they were quiet. A little too quiet. “The Dairy Queen.”

I looked at him, then I LOOKed at him. He nodded, and swallowed. So, I stepped out of the way to let him close the doors. Sat right behind him. There is no Dairy Queen here, the closest one is the Grill and Chill, the next city down from here. It’s a little out of the way to take us to eat, but he didn’t have to drive all the way down there. I touched his shoulder, and he froze up, but I made sure we had a long straightaway first.

“You better stop by someplace where I can get a change of clothes.” For once I was in a different uniform, but this one had cleats, and I didn’t think his balls could handle those.

He glanced up, and nodded in the mirror. So, he had to take an exit, and pull into a storage lot. “I’ll be right out.” He opened the doors, and ran down to get out a duffel bag. A garment bag, a suitcase, and a clothes hanger hook over the basket. Stolen from a laundromat, not a hotel, but at least he could hang the garment bag from it.

I stood up, and closed the door. “All right ladies. Pay attention. I have some rules you have to agree on. If you’d rather, we can drop you off somewhere, and pick you up on the way back.”

“Oh, no. It’s okay. Anyone want to get off?”

“I do, but I can wait until lights out.” Everyone laughed.

“One.” I pointed at the ceiling. “This is a class, and I’m the teacher. You all want to know what I do?” I joined the soccer team, and many of them did too, so we could take this little field trip. “All right, well I can’t smuggle in a tape, and a VCR to show you. So, you’re going to watch. You’re not going to say anything out loud, and if you do anything to ruin this for me…” I don’t want to threaten them.

I stuck another finger up. “2. What happens on the bus stays on the bus. Don’t even talk about it to each other. Any other girl is going to see what you will. So, there’s no use discussing it.”

One more, I’m making up off the cuff. “Three. If you have to masturbate, or want to give each other a helping hand. Go down on each other, or whatever. Go back to rule number 2:”

“What happens on the bus stays on the bus.” They looked at each other, nodded, and even switched seats around to pair up with partners.

I’m not going to judge. You don’t see any boys around here, do you? All right then. They’re teenagers, every single one of us has sexual issues, and that’s not even counting the ones that were raped, molested, exposed, harassed, neglected, are gay, bisexual, and/or transgender. I don’t think we have another one of those on the team, but even if we do. If he wants us to know, he’ll tell us.

I unlatched the door, and pushed it open. “Somebody help him unload the clothes.”

;

Teacher (feMdoM Bond Ex/vo lesson)

We had a place. Lots of places, but I’m not telling any of them the room he can get into, on campus. It’s not that I don’t trust them, but I know them well enough that if they knew there was a sex dungeon on campus, we couldn’t keep them all away forever.

This was just a road, between 2 fields. Out of town, but not too far to drive, and be back before it was suspiciously long. He could take us out to celebrate, somewhere public, but this was just a dead-end road, with trees around it. So, he could park the car, but it turns out he could hide the whole bus

He pulled up, but left the doors locked to the dash. “All right, get down.” I pointed, “There.” Stepped back, and to the side so they could see them. They passed the bags around, especially the garment bag, but as soon as we stopped, they sat up, and payed attention.

“What do you want?” 1) “If you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t satisfy you.” I felt under his chin, and tipped it up, gently. Careful not to scrape his skin with my fingernails, which were sharpened to the best edges I could put on them. “Look at me.” Gently, “Tell me what you want.”

He shook his head, “I don’t want them to see me like this.” He looked up, and bit his lip. Nodded, and closed his eyes.

“Huh!” I turned back, “Let me explain that. There are certain things that he doesn’t want, but he needs. For example, he doesn’t Want to feel like a loser, but he Needs me to tell him, what a worthless loser he’s become. Isn’t that right?”

He nodded, but he’s not crying yet.

“Drop your pants.” The girls got up, and some of them put their arms across the backs of the seats to get a better look.

“He can’t get it up?”

I looked back, and held my finger up.

1.

“Sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

She bit her lip, and nodded.

I turned back, and smacked him. “Where did you get the money?”

“Wh?” he shook his head, so I caught him on the backswing.

“You heard me, Where did you get it? Did you think that I wouldn’t notice?”

“No, I.”

“WHERE DID YOU GET IT?”

“I just worked some other jobs!” He wined, but it started hardening, right away.

“Huh, it helps me get in the mood, if I can interrogate him. Call it method acting, or whatever. You may have to play some other game in your head to get turned on. A worthless excuse for a man like this certainly isn’t going to do the trick. If you’re attractive at all, then you could get a date without having to troll the middle schools, looking for victims.”

“Porn.”

“Huh!” I smacked him, “Whipe that dirty grin off your face. Have you been selling my photos to pedophiles?”

“No, homos. Homosexual porn. Gay for pay.”

“Uh!” Somebody raised her hand.

“Jenny? You have a question?”

“Yeah, would there any chance we could see some of that porno?”

“Ew! You don’t want to see that!”

“And you don’t?”

“Gross, you know what he means?”

“You take it up the butt, and every.”

1) They all shut up. “Tell them.” He nodded. “Say it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I. I’m a bottom, I love a dick up my ass.”

They all laughed, and talked quietly, but of course, I never asked. Honestly, I should have been paying attention, but I’m not going there, and I shouldn’t have to explain it. It’s just disgusting, but apparently Jen isn’t the only one that thinks that might be hot.

“Huh, good.” I patted his head, “Good boy, you can have a stroke.” He let go of his hands, held behind him, and gripped his cock. Pulled the skin out, and held it, bunched up around the head, and then pulled it back, slowly. Then, he held his hands behind his back again.

“Again, this is about what he wants, and what he needs. I know that can be hard to keep track of, but you have to control yourself. First, and foremost. Always, until it’s over, because if you can’t control yourself, then you can’t hope to control him. If you worry about satisfying yourself, you’ll forget to satisfy him, and if he’s not satisfied, he’ll never come back.

He’ll just find a man with a bigger dick to sodomize him, for money.”

“Hhuh!” He nodded, and took another breath. A deeper breath, and sighed.

“How many men?” Moving on…

“Total or at once?”

“How many men gangbanged you at once?”

“Just 2 so far. They made me suck them, fucked my throat until I choked, and lick their assholes clean, huh! Please.”

“Not yet.”

“I need.”

“I said. Not, yet. Take your shirt off.”

“Yes mistress.” I had to distract him, because when it’s that hard, the pulse can be enough for him to finish hands free. It’s starting to beat the air, and besides. He’s got a pretty nice body.

I’m not going to tell him that, but it’s true. He’s not much to look at honestly he’s dangerously ordinary. If he wasn’t then maybe he couldn’t talk his way into access to underage girls, like me, and that’s another thing to be ashamed of.

“Turn around, somebody give me a belt.” I snapped my fingers, and held my hand out, until somebody passed one forward. “Put your hands on your head. You know the drill, assume the position.”

My hands shook, but I know I can do this. I know that I can finally bind him, in front of witnesses. I don’t have to be afraid of what I’ll do, with nobody watching. Alone with him in a hotel room, with no one watching.

“Huh!” He swayed a little, when I pulled the figure 8 tighter.

“You know, you wanted this.”

He nodded, but now he’s in his. I don’t know his place. Couldn’t even tell you if it’s a safe place, or his own personal dungeon, where he can punish himself. I can’t really get in his head, but even if I could, I don’t know the way.

I know my place, because I always avoided it. Threw all the things I didn’t want to think about down there, and slammed the lid before I looked at it too long.

The Abyss. I can’t imagine what he’s got in there, but I’ve got a lesson to teach.

“Huh!” I turned back. “Any questions?”

“Yeah,” they all raised their hands.

;

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