Tested by Lothar

TESTED BY LOThAR

Chapter 5

CHANGINGS

By: Charles E. Campbell

   Labor day came and passed and suddenly I was back in school. Senior year! Last one! Having a car now I no longer had to deal with riding the insipid school bus. Every morning I swung by Carmelita’s house and picked her up. sLave  6 had pretty much given Carm free reign over me. Anything she wanted, any order or any directive, was to be obeyed as if it was coming from LOThAR Himself. No questions, no hesitations. She had a direct link to sLave 6 and was charged with promptly reporting any infractions I might have incurred.

   Some mornings, Carmelita would have me service her orally in the school parking lot before we went off to class. Other mornings she might make me drive to school with my top unbuttoned, or even off. Whatever her whim on that morning, that’s what I did. But every morning, with no exceptions, she made sure to check me to see that I was clean shaven, and wore nothing under my required outfits of very shorts skirts or tight tops. These daily inspections never failed to incite my tinglings.

   I was also directed by sLave 6 to report to Mrs. Arden every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon after school had let out. I was under strict orders to obey her  completely as well. Nothing she wanted from me was forbidden or questionable. Some afternoons Carmelita would accompany me to Mrs. Arden’s room, and sometimes she would just take the bus home by herself. (It seemed that the afternoons when Mrs. Arden would keep me for the longest periods were the ones when Carmelita would go home on the bus. She somehow always knew beforehand.)

   The tears in my nipples and labia from the fish hooks had healed up quite well. Only slightly white scars remained at the sites, and even then you had to look pretty closely in order to see them.

   One afternoon, I was alone with Mrs. Arden in her classroom. She had me barefoot,  standing on tip toes, hands clasped behind my head, facing the wall, my skirt rolled up into my waistband, exposing my recently whipped backside to her as she graded papers. When she was through, she walked up behind me. I felt her cool hand gliding over the raised welts on my naked rear, feeling the ribbed lines she had so recently brought out with a rattan cane.

   “I want you to come over to my house Friday night, whore,” she said, her finger sliding down my crack until it stopped at on the tightly puckered ring of my anus.

   “Yes, Mistress K. Oomph...... Oooooooh. A.....as you wish,” I replied, losing my breath for a moment, as her finger began to probe the tight hole. Her long finger nails had been intentionally filed into sharp points and they cut the fragile skin as she drove two fingers deep inside me.

   “Be there by 6:30. You’ll be allowed to go home by 10:30. Dress as you are now.”

   “Yes Mistress K.”

   “Now, come, I want you to satisfy me, my little whore.”

   Mrs. Arden waited while I got down and was well hidden from view underneath her desk. Then she sat down in her chair and opened her legs for me. Totally concealed as I was by the desk, I brought her to several orgasms before she sent me away.

   Friday night, 5:55PM, I was standing on the wooden porch attached to the front of the modest cape on Ryder St. I rang the bell and waited for a response. Just as I was about to ring the bell a second time, I heard the dead bolt being twisted, and the door opened up, revealing Mrs. Arden. She had obviously just gotten out of the shower, and was wrapped in a luxuriantly thick and soft oversized dark purple towel, which wrapped around her, covering her from her armpits to mid thigh. She had another matching towel encasing her hair. Barefoot, water dripping down her legs creating a small puddle at her delicate feet, she said, “You look lovely this evening, slave. Please do come in my dear.”

   “Thank you, Mistress K,” I replied as I entered her house. I heard her close the door and relock the deadbolt.

   “Follow me,” she said, heading for a back bedroom.

   I followed her upstairs and into the bedroom. “You’ll have to be naked for the evening. Please get undressed and hang your clothes neatly in that closet,” she said, sitting down on the single bed facing me, watching.

   “Yes, Mistress K.”  I pulled my tight tank top over my head and then slid out of my shorts. I hung them on hangers on the rod in the close as instructed.

   “Shoes as well, slut,” she sneered when I didn’t immediately remove them as well. “Naked is an absolute.”

   “Sorry, Mistress.” I stepped out of my flip flops, placed them on the closet floor, and stood before her, naked head to toe.

   “Turn around and bend over. Show me both of your little your holes, slave.”

   “As you wish, Mistress K,” I answered politely as I pivoted on the balls of my feet to face away from her. Bending over, I instinctively spread my legs far apart and then pulled my butt cheeks open for her, without waiting to be told.

   “Such a complacent little slut slave, aren’t you?”

   “Yes, Mistress.”

   Her fingers explored my pussy first, sliding up inside me effortlessly as my juices had already started flowing freely. The tinglings building fast. “No errant hairs that I can see. Very nice.”

   Using my wetness as a lubricant, she explored deeply into my tight ass as well with her wickedly sharp nails. She had two fingers buried to the hilt in each hole and fucked me slowly and rhythmically. Listening to my moans. Sensing my rapidly approaching orgasm. Then, abruptly stopping. Denying me. Teasing and tantalizing me. Right on the brink, yet........

   Her fingers pulled out of me. I knew what she expected. Turning and kneeling at her feet, sucking her fingers clean, tasting my own ass and pussy co mingled.

   “I have some friends coming over this evening for a round of bridge”, she announced as my tongue licked her fingers, cleaning them throughly. “They will not be doing anything to you, but you will be naked as long as they are here. Your responsibilities will include bringing in refreshments, retrieving any cards that drop on the floor, answering the telephone.....

   “There’s a small suitcase in the closet, be a good little slave and fetch it for me.”

   I started to walk to the closet when she said, “The word fetch is a word reserved for  dogs, cunt. When you are told to fetch something, I expect you should be on all fours, like a common animal.”

   “Yes, Mistress,” I said, getting down on the carpeted floor and crawling to the closet.

   Opening the closet door was easy. Pulling out the small suitcase was not a challenging task either. But when I picked it up with one and hand and began crawling back to her on my knees and the other hand, she stopped me, saying in a condescending tone, “Is that how a dog retrieves something for her Mistress, cunt?”

       

   “No,” I replied instinctively, but at the same time having no clue at all about what she meant.

   “Such a poorly trained little bitch, aren’t you? Don’t you know anything? You use your mouth to retrieve things, just like any other puppy would.”

   Taking hold of the handle with my teeth, I had to arch my back and raise my head up as high as I could in order to lift the suitcase from the floor and begin to crawl back to her.

   I set the suitcase at Mistress K’s feet, and she said “turn away from me and kneel.”

   I obeyed, and waited. She pulled out the tie back in my hair and brushed my hair for a few minutes before gathering it up in a high ponytail near the top of my head. The next thing I knew, my face was covered by an extremely soft black leather mask, which she proceeded to pull down, covering over my entire head, even under my chin towards my throat. It took her a few minutes to get the tightly fitting hood in position, as she had to constantly check to see that the eye slits and the two tiny nostril holes stayed aligned in position. Once she had it in place, she laced it up from the back, lifting my pont tail as she did, so that it stuck out from high on the back of my head. She pulled back on the leather laces as tightly as she could, molding the leather to fit the contours of my face.

   I could see, but only ever so slightly, out the less than adequate eye slits, but at least breathing through the holes was surprisingly fine. Speech, however, was totally out of the question, as the eye slits and nostril holes were the sole openings in the hood, and the shape of the hood pulled my jaw closed tight. All in all, it was really quite perfect for it’s intended purpose. It was warm, but not uncomfortable, and the smell of the rich supple leather was intoxicating to me. Calming. Reassuring even.

   Mistress K sat down and admired me, running her hands up the insides of my thighs. ( I quickly spread my legs apart for Her without being told.) She checked my level of arousal, inserting two fingers into my pussy, “My, we are excited, aren’t we,” she said. (It was difficult to hear her through the hood, as there were no holes for my ears. The tinglings were causing me to squirm.) All I could do was nod and mumble, my jaw held tightly closed by the hood.. She kept on talking as she pulled a tight pair of matching black kidskin opera gloves onto my hands and up my arms. I concentrated on listening to Her as She continued,  “Your only concerns tonight are the needs of my bridge guests. As I stated earlier, there will be nothing expected from you this evening excepting for the usual services a maid might provide. If you perform well enough, and meet my expectations, I have been instructed to presentto you a gift  from LOThAR HIMSELF, which He has empowered me to present to you on HIS behalf.

  “I’m going to get dressed now. If the doorbell rings, you are to answer it, and admit my guests. Hang up any outer garments they might have, and escort them to my living room. If they ask for refreshments, get them. You will find a list of things I want you to tend to in the kitchen. It’s on the counter, next to the coffee pot. You will also find everything you’ll need laid out on the counter. When your services aren’t required, I want you to lie on the coffee table, on your back, holding your ankles with your hands, legs spread, facing the guests. Open yourself to them.” She patted my pussy, and wiped my wetness on the hood, right underneath as well as in the nostril holes for me to smell.

   I nodded to indicate my understanding of her wishes, and waited for her to leave the room before I went back downstairs to await her guests. I’m not sure how long I waited alone, but the doorbell rang before Mistress K came back downstairs. I opened the door and stood back, allowing a couple to come in. He was an older man, tall and in good shape, gold rimless glasses, with a thick head of almost pure white hair, and a matching well trimmed white goatee. He wore a yellow button collar long sleeve shirt, pressed khakis, and penny loafers. She, on the other hand was much shorter, chunky build, short salt and pepper hair, tortoise shell glasses, no make-up at all, a flowery peasant dress hiding her completely,  all reds, pinks and yellows, and sandals. Her jaw dropped when she saw me, but with a twinkle in his eyes he just said, “Kaye said she had a big surprise for us this evening, Miriam, I guess she wasn’t kidding now!”

   The two of them just stood and stared at my nakedness, before I indicated with my hand that they should follow me into the living room.

   Upon entering the room they immediately took their seats on opposite sides of the card table. Miriam’s eyes kept coming back to me. The man picked up the deck of cards and began to shuffle them purposefully. The doorbell rang again and I went to answer it just as Mistress K. came into the room. “Miriam, Jonathan, it’s good to see you. Ready for a little game of bridge,” I heard her say as I was leaving the room.

   I opened the front door and was shocked to see Ms. Farmer, my PE teacher standing at the door. A knot quickly formed in my stomach. Fearful she might recognize me.

   “My, what a lovely surprise,” she smiled, taking in my body. She reached out and cupped my right breast as she entered the vestibule. “Very nice,” she commented, smiling, kneading the orb lightly and pinching my erect nipple with her nails.

  I always hated her. A real fucking Dyke bitch! Everyone knew she was a Lezzie. Spiked bleached crew cut “hairdo”, broad shoulders, overly defined arms and legs, no tits at all, with a wide flat ass. Sort of a poster child against steroid abuse. Always loved to be in the locker room whenever we girls would change for gym class. Secretly spying on all of us, while pretending to write the attendance on her clipboard. “Thank God for the mask!” I thought to myself as she left me to close the door. I’d die if she recognized me.

   When I got back to the living room, Farmer had just greeted Miriam and Jonathan, and she and Mistress K. were partaking of a little sucking face. Mouths wide open, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, Framer’s hand was massaging Mistress K’s breast through her top. Miriam and Jonathan paid the display no mind whatsoever. It must have been the norm for them, I thought to myself. Miriam said, “Jonathan and I would like some tea, Dear,” she said turning to me, smiling demurely, trying her best to act nonchalant about my nakedness.  I nodded assent and went to the kitchen.

   Everything I might need was carefully laid out on the wide pale mauve formica counter top as Mistress had said. The big percolator had finished brewing coffee, a tea kettle was on the stove, a small tray of various bakery cookies sat waiting, covered in a transparent food wrap. Another larger tray was set up with four cups and saucers, a cup holding a variety of sweeteners, an empty creamer, and some spoons. A note in Mistress K’s hand told me that the cream was in the refrigerator.

   I put the burner on under the tea kettle and put tea bags into two of the cups. When the water was hot, I poured it into the cups and carried the tray out to the guests. I was sent back to the kitchen right away to get coffee for Mistress K. and Ms. Farmer. I was then told to stand in the corner of the room, facing away until I was needed again.

   Pretty much that was how I spent the evening. Refills of tea and coffee, serving the cookies, laying on the table with my pussy and ass open to be viewed. I wasn’t able to get my head into a position that would allow me to see who was watching me the most, but I knew it was probably Farmer, although it might have been Miriam as well. (Jonathan kept admonishing her for her bad playing during the game, accusing her of not concentrating, and seeming to be distracted). I felt my wetness leaking out of me all night long. I even thought I could smell myself in the still air of the room. My tinglings were pretty much in check all night, but they were an ever present reminder of what I was doing.

     The bridge game ended about 10:00. Miriam and Jonathan left together, but Ms. Farmer hung around with Mistress K., eyeing me greedily. “She’s quite lovely, Kaye,” she remarked, her hand cupping my butt, squeezing it lightly. “She helped us win several hands tonight.”

   “Funny,” Mistress K. remarked, “Jonathan wasn’t the least bit taken aback by her, in fact he didn’t seem to care one way or the other having a naked girl present, hardly paid her any mind, but Miriam, boy, she seemed completely off her game. Sort of like the 800 pound gorilla in the room that no one wants to admit is there.”

   “She was pretty bent about your little surprise,” Farmer agreed. “ Worked out well all around, I’d say. I know I enjoyed all of the enticing sights and smells,” she grinned. Two fingers from Farmer’s hand had slid down my rear crack and were massaging both of my openings at the same time, teasing me. Her eyes bore into mine, studying my reaction to her probing fingers as she explored me, watching my response.

    “They could smell me,” I thought to myself, the tinglings rushing in instantly, overwhelming me, causing me to moan slightly, something Ms. Farmer picked up on immediately, broadening her smile at my response. I felt my ever present wetness start to dribble down the inside of my thighs.

   “I’ll share her with you, Louise,” Mistress offered, pinching my nipple. “But not this evening. Soon though, I promise.”

   Farmer’s smile evaporated, and looking at Mistress she said, “Alright, Kaye. But believe me, I’m going to hold you to that promise. And it better be sooner rather than later! I want a run at this little filly.”

   “Of course, of course. Within the week, Louise. You have my word. I’ll even send her over to your apartment for a  night and you may have your way with her for as long as you wish.”

   I shuddered noticeably when she said that, a fact that Farmer also picked up on, as her smile quickly returned to her face.

  “It’s a deal,” Farmer readily agreed, pulling her hand away. “I’ll call you tomorrow evening and we’ll work out a date.” She brought her hand up and cupped my jaw, pulling my head forward to her face as she said, “We’ll have a lot of fun together, little one. Or at least I will,” she laughed. “You can count on it!”

   Farmer kissed and hugged Mistress K., have me a firm pat on my ass, whispered in my ear, “See you soon, cunt,” and then she left, leaving me alone with Mistress.

   (True to her word, Mistress K. sent me to Farmer’s apartment the following Friday night, in fact she drove me there herself and picked me up at the appointed hour. Farmer was given no restrictions in her usage of me, with just one exception,  that my hood was to remain on my head all evening. My identity was to remain hidden. To insure that this stipulation was honored, Mistress had encased my head in a different hood for my visit with her friend. This hood covered my head, face, and chin, and was held in place with small keyed locks on my throat, the nape of my neck, and on my forehead. Eye slits, nostril holes, and a zipper closure for my mouth were the only gaps in the soft deep chocolate brown leather).

    She undid the laces on the hood, freeing me from it’s warm, almost comforting, reassuring  hold, and had me follow her up to the bathroom. “Take a shower,” she said. “When you’re finished, the towels are under the sink. Make sure that you wash your chest particularly well.”

   “Yes Mistress,” I answered, as she walked out. Fairly confused by her request, thinking my strong odors had  never seemed to bother her before.

   I was toweling off when she returned, carrying a small beige plastic tray, the contents of which I did not see. “Sit on the sink, slut. Put you back to the mirror, facing me.”

   I obeyed, hopping up on the cool marble surface.

   I watched, silently, as Mistress K. pulled on a pair of sterile latex gloves. Then she took a thick cotton swab and pouring some liquid from a pint size plastic bottle onto the swab, she proceeded to paint my nipples and areolas with copious amounts of the dark yellowish red liquid.

   She took her time, spending a few minutes painting each breast with the cold solution. Satisfied, she took a small pen in her hand, bent over and studied my left breast for a few moments, before putting ink dots on either side of my nipple, at the base, and on either side of my areola, right where the skin pigmentation changes from dark brown to pale white. She repeated the studying and marking on my other breast.

   Taking a clamp in her hand, she lined it up on my nipple, so that the holes in the ends of the jaws of the clamp aligned perfectly with the dots she had put on my right nipple. Squeezing the handles locked the clamp in place, (it hurt no more than regular nipple clamps). Eyeing again to be certain it was where she wanted it to be, she took a thick piercing needle and a cork and placed them on either side of the erect nub, with the point of the needle right on her mark, and the cork on the opposite side to provide some resistance.

   She provided me no warning. There was a slight burning sensation, I flinched slightly, but that was my only reaction, (other than the mounting tinglings), and the needle was through. Mistress placed a barbell in the new hole and tightened the end cap. My left nipple received a matching barbell.

   Mistress used a larger clamp on my areola, squeezing it very tightly, crushing it, which hurt quite a lot. That needle burned far more than the other two, because she went very slowly all the way through my breast behind the areola, watching my face contort from the pain. She placed a thick ring in that hole before giving equal treatment to my other one. 

   Removing the clamp, she took off her latex gloves and said, “Take a look in the mirror and tell me what you think of LOThAR’s gift, slut.”

   I got off the counter top and turned to look at my reflection in the well lit mirror. Barbells pierced my nipples and thick rings were imbedded deep in my breasts. “The.....they’re b.....beautiful, Mistress. Thank you!” ( I was overjoyed, brimming with pride at how my breasts looked, and that LOThAR had given me this precious gift).

   “I took the liberty of typing up instructions on aftercare for your piercings, slave. Follow them meticulously. We don’t want you to get an infection.

   “Now, get dressed, and go home. I will expect you and Carmelita in my classroom after school Monday, and don’t be late!”

   “I won’t, Mistress K. I promise. Thank you!”

   She didn’t see me out, instead, she retired to her room and shut the door.

   When I got home, I went straight to the bathroom, took off my clothes and looked in the mirror admiring the new steel rings LOThAR had given me. I was smiling proudly at my reflection, oblivious to anything else, when suddenly Kendra’s face popped around the door jamb. “Whoa, Sandy,” she exclaimed, startled at the spectacle when she saw me, “What are you doing?”

   She stared at my nakedness in the glaringly harsh lights of the well lit bathroom, waiting for a response from me.

   “K.....Kendra,” I stammered, grabbing a bath towel for cover, completely shocked at seeing her, and totally at a loss for words.

   Before I could utter some feebly lame explanation, Franny’s head popped up behind my cousin’s, and after seeing what the commotion was about, she grinned broadly and said, “Sweet!”

   “Not now, Franny,” Kendra barked sternly, shoving her out of the door way. Then to me, she said, “We’ll talk about all this later, put on a robe and come to the living room. We need to talk!” She slammed the door of the bathroom and I heard the heels of here boots on the hallway floor as she left.

   I ducked into my room and grabbed my bathrobe. Tying it tightly, I went to join my cousin, trembling in fear as I went.

   Kendra and Franny were seated next to each other on the small couch, (much closer than one would accept for normal I realized in retrospect). I took a seat in Grandma Jo’s well worn recliner, careful to pull the robe shut as I sat down.

   “I don’t know how to tell you this, Sandy,” Kendra began, obviously very uncomfortable about something.  Franny draped her arm across the top of Kendra’s shoulders and snuggled her head against Kendra’s. “Grandma Jo’s had a stroke. She’s in the hospital.”

    “Wh.....what,” I blurted out, no longer fixated on what had just happened. “Is she okay?”

   “They don’t know yet, Sandy. It’s touch and go I guess.”

   I was crying now, sobs wracked my body. Kendra got up and sat in the recliner next to me, hugging me tightly as we both wept freely.

   It took a while before we both calmed down enough to talk more.

   “Grandma Jo made me promise to her a few months ago that if anything ever happened to her while you were still here with her that I would move in, and be your guardian. She didn’t want you to be uprooted  again, and looking for a place to live.”

   I started crying again, overwhelmed, unable to process it all. Kendra was holding me tightly, and rubbing my back as she did. The robe was gradually working loose, falling opening up across my shoulders and chest. I felt a slight tugging sensation behind me, as Kendra had taken hold of the collar of the robe, and was slowly pulling it back and down, exposing me breasts and stomach. One of her hands made a slow, gradual slide sensuously across my rib cage from my back, and cupped my breast, fiddling with my new piercings.

  “I don’t remember these,” she whispered in my ear.

   “I.....I just got them,” I replied, no longer concerned. Completely at ease in her warm caress.

   Kendra kissed my ear, then my neck, slowly kissing her way to my tits. I was in heaven, a blissful fog enveloping me, soothing me, comforting me, the tinglings heating up, as I succumbed to her ministrations. Through the haze, I half saw Franny getting up from the couch and getting undressed. She approached us and knelt next to the chair. Taking hold of my right hand, she guided it to her breast. I pinched the rings in her nipples, tugging on them, as she leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, her tongue delving deep into the back of my willing, wide open mouth.

   It wasn’t long before the three of us were naked and entangled on the floor in a twisting writhing mass of exploring mouths and fingers. When at long last we were all sated, myself having enjoyed multiple cums, Kendra stood up, her legs apart, fists balled and resting on her shapely hips, and looked down at me, (Franny had gotten up and stood alongside her). 

    “Seems to me my little country bumpkin cousin has emerged from her backwoods chrysalis and spread her sexual wings, Franny,” Kendra said, looking at me.

   “She’s come a long way, Hon,” Franny agreed, as she ran her hand around Kendra’s waist, hugging her close kissing Kendra’s neck

   “There’s going to be some new rules around here, Cous’,” Kendra announced. “As I am sure you can tell, Franny is my lover, and I share everything with her. Do you understand?”

  “Y...yes, Kendra,” I answered quietly.

   “I’m not so sure that you do.

   “Grandma Jo won’t be coming home for a long time, so I’m in charge from now on. What I say goes.”

   “Yes, Kendra,” I said.

   “Good. What I say goes, and since Franny is my partner, what she says goes as well. You will do whatever we tell you to do. No questions asked. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Kendra.” My tinglings were rushing through me as the implications of her directives became clear.

   “There will be some new rules around the house. All the cooking and cleaning chores from now on are yours. That will include the food shopping as well. You will be naked whenever you are in the house, no matter what. If we order in a pizza, you will go to the door naked. If there is a delivery, or some service man comes in, you will be naked.

   “If you are able to keep up with your chores as well as school, then you may stay at school. If your duties at home are unsatisfactory, you will drop out of school.”

    My tinglings came on with such a rush that I quaked and came several times as she recited her litany of rules to me: I was to address Kendra as Mistress and Franny as M’Lady, I was not allowed to use chairs, or my bed, my place being the floor. No more walking on two feet while in the house either, ( this was Franny’s rule), I would have to crawl on hands and knees, standing only when absolutely necessary, like when I was doing laundry, ironing, cooking, etc. I was to keep myself clean, inside and out, and made up garishly, like the whore I was becoming. This meant heavy eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, blush, and lipstick, as well as keeping myself virtually bathed in cheap perfumes. All of my personal toileting was to be taken care of outdoors. First thing in the morning, I was to dig a litter box for myself behind the garage. No more tampons for me either. I would be allowed pads when ever I was dressed, but when naked in the house, I was to allow my menses to flow freely as an outward sign of my femininity. I was not allowed to speak unless directed to do so. This directive included use of the phone. The only exception was when I was in school,  if a teacher asked me a question. But that was all. I was not to speak to anyone anymore. Kendra wanted me to spend more time thinking about my condition.

   Kendra told me to kneel and then she gave me an opportunity to speak. I said, “Thank you Mistress and M’Lady for taking me as your slut slave. I will strive to meet all of your expectations. But please, if I may, I must explain something to you.”

   “And pray tell me what that might be, slave,” Kendra asked?

   “I must tell you of ...........my sit............uation, Mistress.”  I struggled trying to find the right words.

   I proceeded to tell them about LOThAR, Carmelita, Mrs. Arden, and my testings. I told them of my self bondage and torture, of everything I had in the garage. Of my own rules about my nudity at home. Everything.

   They both sat back quietly and listened intently as I related all of the things I had been doing. Kendra’s hand was idly fiddling around in Franny’s crotch. When I had finished, Kendra said, “I would like to meet this Mrs. Arden and talk with her about you. I’ll write her a little note for you to deliver to her on Monday.

   “Now, slave, put fresh sheets on the bed for M’Lady and me, we wish to go to bed. You may bring our bags in from the car, and then you may sleep on the floor at the foot of our bed, just in case we have need of you during the night.”

   “Yes, Mistress.”

   Monday afternoon, after my last class, I went to Mrs. Arden’s room with Carmelita. She was acting very pissed that I wouldn’t speak with her, but I had no way to explain, so I suffered her verbal abuse and threats as we walked the hallways together.

   I gave Mrs. Arden the note from Kendra. She read it while I knelt under her desk, between her open legs, satisfying her.

   “Kendra sounds like someone I’d very much like to meet,” she bemused. “I like her new rules for you as well. Especially the outdoor litter box.”

   As I continued to service her, she wrote a reply to Kendra. I never learned what either of the notes contained, but Mrs. Arden was at our house Friday night for dinner and an amusing evening of entertainment centered around me!