Teaching The Teacher by James X.Pendergrass

Copyright 2010 – All Rights Reserved

Monday, September 2nd -- School started today. 

It's hard to believe this is my tenth year of teaching.  I'm not such a young whipper-snapper anymore.  Let me introduce myself.  I'm James Pendergrass, 32 years old, and I teach at Hillcrest School (Kindergarten thru eighth grade).  It might be hard to believe we would cram middle-school children with the elementary school kids, but you know how it is with budget cutbacks these days.  Once the Jamison middle school closed down a couple of years ago, it was determined that the seventh and eighth graders would be moved to Hillcrest.  So I went with them.  I teach math to seventh graders.  This is pre-algebra, before things really start to get hairy in mathematical terms. 

Anyway, lots to talk about during my first day.  The kids seem a little less smart than last year.  I've been saying that for a while.  What a brain-drain we have in this messed up country of ours.  But who cares about that crap?  The most exciting thing all day took place in the faculty room during lunch time when I was introduced to the new piece of meat-- uh, I mean female kindergarten teacher.  Her name is Talia Yount.

Since I've decided to keep a journal on this coming school year that describes my inner-most thoughts, feelings and desires, I probably should begin by telling you more about myself.  I promise not to hold anything back.  It's not as if anyone is going to actually read this thing, right?

Well, you already know my name and age.  I'm a local boy.  The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.  I play softball and ride my bike occasionally.  I'm in semi-decent shape.  I'm easy-going most of the time.  Occasionally I have temperamental outbursts -- I blame Dad for that.  I have an older brother, Timothy.  Timothy is in jail.  He's been there for the past seven years.  Attempted murder.  Really fucked up stuff.  It's hard to talk about. 

Anyway, my dad and mom got divorced a long time ago.  I never see my mom anymore.  She joined this cult out West.  Any day now I'll read about her drinking Cool-aid spiked with cyanide and dropping dead.  It will probably be in Fiji, or Burma, or maybe Burkina-Faso.  She always was crazy.

Between not growing up with any sisters and not having a good role model for a mother, I never was very good with the Ladies.  Part of it is my fault.  I've always been too aggressive.  Finally though, I learned to tone things down.  A Girl needs to be sweet-talked.  Last year I struck paydirt with my fiancée, Lori.  Lori 29 and super hot!  I'm so lucky.  She's like 5'9", thin, with high cheekbones and long, brown hair.  A couple of my guy friends think she's playing me, but what do they know?  Lori is a total knockout, a classic beauty if you will. 

We don't live together.  Lori insisted on it.  She's a brand manager for a soft drink company.  She lives downtown.  We don't see each other as much as I wish we did, though we do hang out periodically on weekends.  I'd like to say we have sex and what not, but Lori insists upon no "love-making" until marriage.  Lori is from a fairly religious family and her terms are non-negotiable.  It's kind of a bummer, especially since she wears such nice clothes and always looks so good.  I swear she has the smoothest, most perfect head of hair God has ever created (I'm somewhat religious, though I tend to stray.  I'm a man -- I have needs).  Lori is always combing that hair of hers with this mahogany hairbrush she keeps in her purse.  It drives me crazy, especially when we're at the mall and I'm buying her clothes, or dinner, or whatever she wants.  You might wonder why I go through all the trouble.  Well, there's something about Lori that I find irresistible, and anyway I can afford it.

That said, I am a man and I do need to get my rocks off.  Sometimes I satisfy my needs at a nearby massage parlor.  This older Asian Woman does a nice job giving me happy endings, if you get my drift.  Occasionally I hire an escort.  You might question my ethical standards, but I'm still a young man and a young man has to have his dick taken care of.  And what Lori doesn't know won't hurt her.  Right?

So I want to write about Talia Yount.  Normally I wouldn't be interested in Talia for a couple of reasons.  One, I'm engaged.  Two, it's never a good idea to shit where you eat.  Three, she's not technically my type.  But forget about that shit.  All good-looking Women are my type.  Even crunchy oddballs like Talia.

Let me explain – I get the distinct feeling that Talia is somewhat of a counter-culture broad.  When I was studying her at lunch, I could see she has a pierced nose, although it was absent any jewelry, probably because it's against school policy.  Talia has this shoulder-length straight hair, only I think she intentionally doesn't style it.  As a result, it has a punkish quality.  It's stringy.  For some reason, I like it even though it's the antithesis of my fiancé’s hair.   

Talia wore this art-deco blouse to school today.  It had these pastel-colored Campbell Soup cans on it -- I think it was an Andy Warhol rip-off.  Her lower body looked divine in a tan, denim skirt.  She's probably five and a half feet tall, quite thin and has a modest, though visually appealing pair of tits.  Maybe a B-cup at most, but they still protrude nicely away from her body on account of how thin she is.  She has a narrow waist and these terrific, protruding hips.  It's kind of funny how despite all of her weirdness, when it gets right down to it, Talia is a Woman.  I’m betting she's got herself a nice, tight little snatch.  From our brief conversation, I think she's around 24.  I know this because she moved here from New York City and graduated from NYU two years ago. 

Talia also has these deep blue eyes and long eyelashes.  Without them, she would look almost boyish with her round face and lightly freckled cheeks.  It's hard to believe she's even 24.  She wore these blockish black pumps with a square tip.  At first I didn't like them, but I decided there was something about the shoes that made me excited, probably the sleek legs they were attached to.

When I was introduced to her, I found myself intrigued by her voice.  Talia speaks with a nasally tone that belies her physical appearance.  She sounds downright snobbish with her rapid, self-assured monotone.  Every phrase out of her mouth sounds as if she’s complaining to the waiter that there’s a fly in her lobster bisque.  No matter what the subject, she speaks as if she has this self-righteous entitlement:  “The weather’s so perfect today,” Talia claimed, as if it were a personal affront to her that it was sunny and 75 degrees.  The way she says everything is so sexy to me, so feminine. 

Here's the topper.  When I went out to my car at the end of the day, I saw Talia get into her Volkswagen.  You would not believe the bumper stickers she had: an Obama '08 sticker, something ridiculous about a Woman's right to choose, and something about well-behaved Women never making history.  Can you believe all that crap?  Talia Yount was a big-time moon-bat liberal!

That's when I decided that I intend to fuck Talia Yount.  While I confess that I haven't slept with anyone other than a prostitute, I think it's time to cross that line.  And what would be better than giving some kooky liberal chick from New York City a hot beef injection?  I know she'll go for me.  I'm a good-looking dude, and fairly charming when I want to be.  I do feel a little bit bad about Lori, but a man's gotta eat.  Oh boy, this is going to be too good to be true.  Just the thought of me gripping those hipbones while I stuff that tight snatch with my hard cock is enough to make me want to go rub one out.  It's probably not a good idea to impregnate the little minx, so I'll do her a favor and pull out when I'm about to blast my load.  Before she knows what hit her, I'll point it at her face and give her a big creamy facial.  But before I'm done, I'll guide my prick into her mouth so she gets a nice, salty afternoon snack.  Ha!  When I'm finished, I'll tell her it's been nice doing business with her!  Talk about the coup de grace. 

Wednesday, September 4th --

What a busy, intriguing first week it has been.

My class has been blah in terms of intellectual talent.  I think it's safe to say there are no Al Einsteins in this bunch, nobody that invokes visions of Will Hunting.  Some of these kids are going to struggle with algebra. 

Once upon a time I think I was inspired about teaching.  Nowadays, I just try to get through the day so I can go home and smoke weed.

Personally I think I'm still very professional.  I have a lesson plan and I stick to it.  I make sure all the bases are covered.  I'd say I'm an above average teacher.  My boss doesn't necessarily agree.

Ah, it pains me to write these words: my boss is a Woman.  Her name is Karen Johnson.  She's actually a year younger than me.  She's the vice principal of the school.  All the math and science teachers report to her. 

I remember the day when I found out she got the Vice Principal job.  Karen started in our city's public school system a year after I did.  Like me, she taught math.  In my first year of teaching, before Karen came along, I won the district math teacher award.  It was a thrill.  I was young and my whole career was ahead of me.  My Dad, who always wanted me to practice law like him, was proud of me for the first time in my life.  And Karen Fucking Johnson came along and for the next three consecutive years, she won the math teacher award. 

Last year, when it came time to replace our Vice Principal, Cedric Haley, who after a 44 year tenure, died of AIDS, both Karen and I put our names in for consideration.  Up to that point, I suppose you could say our relationship was terse.  Karen is clinically obese and I've never had any respect for people that can't keep their weight under control.  If you saw me today, you might think that's hypocritical since I'm maybe slightly overweight.  Nothing like Karen.  Actually, Karen is not morbidly obese.  She's definitely large though.  I will say this for her -- she's one of those large Women who seem to have fat in all the right places.  What I mean by that is not that I'm attracted to her in any way.  I only mean she packs all that fat into her ass and thighs.  She has huge tits, and if you were to look at her face you'd think she wasn't that fat.  I don't understand how, but she doesn't have a double chin like so many fat Women.  Oddly enough, her face is quite respectable. 

Karen always dresses to the nines (black stockings, high heels, dresses, make-up, pearls, etc) and I'm convinced this is how she ended up becoming the vice principal.  Either way, as I hinted at, we have never really hit it off.  She was always so LOUD and opinionated in meetings, drinking her Diet Cokes out of a straw, smearing red lipstick all over the place, constantly tossing her hair as though she were some babe.  Before she got the VP role, we had a professional relationship.  We tended to avoid each other.  Though I will say when we passed in the hallway there always seemed to be some kind of coldness that radiated off her, something approaching animosity. 

When Karen became VP, our relationship changed.  She began badgering me almost monthly on my teaching processes.  She sat in on more than one of my classes.  We really didn't agree on much of anything at all.  Karen has this aloof way of dealing with me, like she thinks she is better than me or something.  The worst part is that only a month ago she put me on a performance improvement plan.  I was so furious.  She even brought in Barbara Clinton, the old-bag school principal, and they formally wrote me up.  I swear Karen was holding back a grin.  I wanted to roll her up into a ball and bowl her down the interstate into the path of an oncoming semi.  Then again, I'm not sure which would get hurt more -- Karen or the semi.

Anyway, it's not as if I need this job financially or anything like that.  It's just something to pass the time.  I'd be bored if I didn't have something to do.  I could play golf, but I suck at golf.  So I teach kids. 

Back to Karen and the events of this past week.  On Wednesday, Karen rudely walked into my class five minutes before the end of the third period.  She knows I have fourth period off, which is the time window from 11 to 12 in the morning.

"I want you to sit in on Talia's class," she said.  It was more of an order than a request.

For a moment, I was about to ask why would I want to sit in on Talia's class.  For fuck's sake, the Girl teaches kindergarten.  But two things stopped me from opening my mouth:

1. My dad has hinted in the past that he wants me to stick with my job.  I'm afraid he might stop supporting me if I don't stay with it.  That's a scary thought.  I enjoy my BMW and my nice condo.  I'd hate to lose either one of them.

2. It was Talia Yount and this would give me an opportunity to study her in action.

So off we went.  Me walking and Karen bumbling down the hall, toward Talia's class.  She was on the other side of the building, as we designed the school so the younger and older kids don't cross paths.

When we arrived, I took in the sight of Talia.  Good gosh, she was dressed so informally.  She wore this weird satin blouse that I think was a Salvador Dali reprint.  She also had this tiny stud diamond earring in her nose, effectively flaunting her disregard for school policy.  Topping it off were her jeans shorts.  I couldn't believe she was allowed to wear such an outfit.  Sure it was hot out, it still being late summer, but the jeans were on the small side.  They weren't cut-offs, but they might as well have been.  The best part from my perspective was that they didn't leave much to the imagination.  We entered the room from behind her, and I had a chance to get a nice rear view.  Talia had a terrific ass!  Like I said, she had these impressive protruding hipbones, but her waist was very slender and the jeans rode high on her ass.  She flexed one hip at an angle.  Because she was so young, still in her early 20s, Talia's ass had such a nice bubble.  I suspect she had a body type that would cause her ass to flatten out in a few years, but right now it was this perfect, understated piece of flesh.

We sat down behind the kindergarten kids and I got a chance to study her as she taught.  Talia made these wild, overly-expressive hand gestures and constantly raised and lowered her voice.  The children were all entranced.  Rather than children, she referred to them as "people."  I suppose it was her silly, liberal way of treating them like adults:

-People, we did a lovely job with our art projects today.  I’m very proud of you!

-Okay people, let’s gather around and do the alphabet together.

-Remember to treat the people around you the way you would like to be treated. 

Yuck.

"Now THAT'S how you teach," said Karen to me with such condescension that I wanted to make a punching bag out of her stomach. 

I wasn't really that interested in how Talia taught though.  I was focused on her pussy.

Not that I could see it, but her tight shorts didn't leave much to the imagination.  I swear she adjusted her stance soon after Karen and I settled in our child-sized chairs in the back of the room (poor Karen looked like a circus-elephant on a stool).

What I mean is that Talia turned so her body was facing directly toward me and arched her back every so slightly until her body was bow-shaped, her navel pushing a few inches in front of her. 

The result was spectacular.  I have a very keen eye for this sort of thing, as I consider myself a great student of the female form.  By arching her back, Talia's crotch took on a near-camel toe appearance.  No, I couldn't see her slit, but you know how jeans are.  The zipper-strip presents a Vagina-like impression for the man with imagination.  Due to her prominent hip bones, Talia's crotch took on this wonderful Y-shape, if you get my drift.  I could see the outlines of her mound of Venus, this tantalizing biscuit presented without pretense.  My cock sprung to life in my pants, so much so that I blushed and adjusted my groin in an effort to hide it.

I began to ponder what "it" must look like.  I mean, I now had a great idea of its shape.  But I wondered about her pubes and how she might go about grooming her most important patch of hair.  When I think about this, I get such a thrill.   What I'm getting at is that I have a fascination with this part of a Woman's body.  Some might call it an addiction. And here's a simple math equation for you: as far as I'm concerned, when it comes to feminine grooming choices, pubes = Vagina.  What I mean by that is that when a Woman gets down to the business of tending to her pubic hairs, she is engaging in the grooming of her Vagina.  Just as when she applies oils and various health care products, she is doing the same.  Yes indeed, I guess you could say I am guilty of being cunt-obsessed.

In the case of Talia, my immediate conclusion was that she definitely didn't go bald down there.  A crunchy counterculture chick like her would take a certain degree of pride in her patch.  But would she choose to just let it go, like a forest?  Probably not, I decided.  The 70s were over.  The modern Woman didn't like to just let things grow.  And even though Talia was part hippie, she also had a tiny hint of New York Cosmo Girl in her, with her silly modern art blouses and what not. 

On the other hand, she wasn't likely a landing strip sort of Girl either.  No way.  I decided Talia either trims her Vagina with great care, so that it forms a perfect "v."  Or perhaps she trims it in such a way that it becomes a soft, female soul-patch, a nice little tuft if you will. 

I wonder if Talia colors her pussy.  Maybe it’s a punk blue color.  Or better yet, what if it’s dyed pink?  Wouldn't that be just perfect? 

Karen's voice brought me out of my trance.  "James?  JAMES!  Are you even listening to me?"

"Oh, sorry," I said.

"Sometimes I wonder where your head is," the bitch said.  She gave me some know-it-all lecture about the way Talia engaged with her students and listened to them.  "That's right, James.  She actually listens to them!"  After a while, Karen's voice began to fade out again, as I nodded my head robotically.  I was too busy focusing on a little patch of denim.  In fact, I think I'll focus on it right now and put my hand to good use.

Friday, September 6th –

Oh my God.  Incredible Friday for me.  I had a chance to chat with Talia during lunch today.  I ate a roast beef sandwich, while she ate some shit called Kenwah (sic) or something.  Talia is so fucking hot.  And she's so sweet too.  I swear she was batting her eyelashes at me.  I think she might want me.  She was telling me all these stories about New York City.  I have to admit she's an awfully friendly Girl.  At one point she put her hand on my knee as she was speaking.  I hope she didn't realize how excited it made me. 

Another thing I liked was something Talia didn't do.  Whenever I'm with Lori and Lori wears a skirt, she's constantly pulling the skirt toward her knees whenever she sits down.  As if I'm going to be able to see anything anyhow.  It's not like Lori's skirts are that short.  They are usually knee level. 

Talia, on the other hand, didn't do it once the entire time we ate together.  And her light purple skirt was considerably shorter than the ones Lori usually wears.  I wouldn't describe Talia's skirt as slutty.  But it was quite sexy to be sure.  It was cut maybe three inches above the top of her knees.  And Talia didn't care at all.  She did constantly cross and uncross her fantastic legs as she relayed all these stories to me with such feminine aplomb.  So many times, I got tantalizingly close to seeing her panties.  When I think of the rustling sound her skirt made each time she moved her legs, it makes me want to grab myself. 

Not only that, but her legs were something to be hold.  They are a tad pixie-like.  Very thin, especially her ankles.  Despite being of average female height and having protruding hip bones, I can't imagine Talia weighs much more than 105 pounds.  She has an ankle bracelet that caught my eye as well.  Plus, she wore flip flops.  I don't know how she gets away with it.  But I noticed her pretty little feet and her toenails were painted a dark crimson color.  Yum.  Time to go skewer me some democratic pussy.

Saturday, September 7th --

Frustration.

That's the best way to describe how I feel right now.  I went shopping today with Lori.  She looked beautiful, like she always does.  It's hard not to feel proud, holding her hand as we go through the mall.  She's so striking-looking -- tall, slender, moves with an effortless grace -- I swear the Girl must have taken posture classes.  She wore a dark skirt, conservatively cut below the knee and a white turtleneck (first sign of fall in the air today).  The turtleneck hugged her upper body and her tits pressed proudly forward, a pair of sirens for all the men in the mall.  Lori let me feel her melons through her shirt a couple of months ago.  (She drank a cosmopolitan that night -- I've been trying to get her to drink cosmos ever since with no luck.)  Her ta-tas were so firm and ripe.  She was on my lap and I had my chin tucked against beautiful neck -- the smell was intoxicating.  I nearly lost it in my pants.  When she left that night I barely touched myself before I exploded all over the bathroom floor.  It took me five minutes to clean it up. 

Anyway, since then I haven't been allowed to touch her breasts.  Lori said I didn't touch nicely (gimmee a break).  It hasn’t been easy, but I have honored her desires.  She is worth it, so gorgeous and classy is she.  So what if she has a bitchy side.  When we get married, it will be the best night of my life.  Just to think of her pussy (definitely shaved to a perfect (v) -- she told that same night she allowed me to grope her breasts) drives me near insane!

So the mall today...ugh, it was painful.  I had to deal with my pain as soon as I got home and I think I'll have to do it again when I'm done with this journal entry.  We went to a Women's designer clothing store.  I bought Lori all these nice clothes while she chatted with the female sales associate as if I weren't there.  When it was over and I had spent all that money, she barely said thank you.  Maybe a part of me enjoys treating her like a queen, but it would be nice to get more than a peck on the cheek.  Don't get me wrong, I nearly melted when she kissed my cheek, but still.

After that we walked by the Tiffany store and Lori got all excited about a pair of $2,000 platinum earrings.  She started giving me the eye.  I told her no, I was finished shopping for her today.  Her response was to play with her hair and give me those puppy dog eyes.  She knows how it drives me insane when she runs her long fingernails through that perfectly straight hair.     

"If I get you the earrings, do you think we might be able to re-enact the night from a couple of months ago, remember?  When you had the Cosmo?"

She thought about it.  "Maybe," she said.

"Only can we take it a little bit further?  I'm not talking about sex, uh making love," I said, catching myself.  "But maybe some touching?"

Lori rolled her eyes at me.  "James, what have I told you about that kind of talk?  You know I'm a conservative Girl."

"I'm sorry, Lori," I practically whimpered. 

But my apology wasn't enough.  Lori's face got all hard.  "What have I told you about pushing me sexually, James?"

"I'm sorry," I said again.  "Just forget it.  I love you and I'm willing to wait," I said meekly. 

"If you love me so much, then you can go have a visit with Rosy Palm this afternoon." 

I swear I think I saw a tiny hint of a smile when she said it.  It was the third time she told me to visit Rosy Palm.  The first was the Cosmo Night.  The second was maybe a month ago.  And the third was today.  My face turned bright red and I had no response.

"Then again," she said, again giving me those puppy-dog eyes.  "It would be nice if you didn't have to visit your other Girlfriend," she said, poking at my right hand with her finger.

Again, I was speechless.  Lori simply held out her hand, a signal that the conversation was over. 

On the ride back to her condo, she acted as though the whole discussion hadn't taken place.  She talked about this upcoming fundraiser we were going to, and about her sister's husband and the promotion he just got.  I barely could hear her voice.  All I was thinking about was her telling me to visit Rosy Palm. 

I don't know why, but it brings on such mixed emotions for me.  On the one hand, it's so frustrating to hear the Woman you love tell you something that is so embarrassing.  In a way, it pains me to think that Lori knows what I'm up to when she's not around.  But I respect her desires to stay celibate until marriage.  And finally, I couldn't help but feel this odd sort of excitement as I replayed her harsh words again and again in my head.  My dick hadn't gone soft since she said it.  Something about Lori's bitchy side was pushing certain buttons deep within me.  When I got home, I barely touched myself before I exploded all over the bathroom floor just as I had during Cosmo Night.  What a relief of all that pent up pressure.  My balls are beginning to ache again when I think about what she said and the way she casually poked at my hand.  I think I need to visit Rosy again.

Tuesday, September 10th --

Damn it all to hell.  Things never quite work out like I want them to.

It all has to do with Talia.  I think I might have misinterpreted some of her body language and, as a result, made a very grave mistake.  It is clear now that Talia is, or was, just naturally friendly and had no interest in me sexually.  I have to say, when it comes right down to it, she turned out to be somewhat of a bitch.  Are they all that way?  Maybe I'm overreacting, and Talia was more irritated than outright infuriated.  Still, there's something I saw in her today -- a flash of toughness -- which I'd never seen before.  Maybe the mean streets of New York City rubbed off on her.  Maybe toughness isn't the right word.  Street smarts.  That's the phrase I'm looking for.  Talia has street smarts. 

Here's how it went down:  I had the kids out at recess.  For some reason, probably because she's new, Talia had her kids out near our kids.  It's always a little dangerous to have the 13-year-olds and the five-year-olds all together, but everyone was getting along.  Plus it gave me a chance to talk to Talia who looked ravishing in her paisley miniskirt, ankle-high boots, scarf, and leather jacket.  I couldn't stop imagining that delightful little gash nestled between those thighs as she stood and spoke casually to me about the time she and a friend danced drunk on the bar-top at Red Rocks, this joint on the west side of NYC.  It's funny when you think about it.  Here she is telling me this story and all I can think about is her pussy.

So, don't ask me why, but when she stopped talking, I just blurted it out:

"How would you like to come back to my place after school today for an afternoon bang bang?"

Don't ask me why I said "bang bang."  It will go down as one of those mysteries of the modern age.

"WHAT?"

"Uh, do you want to, uh, you know, do it?"

Talia just glared at me, totally speechless for a good ten seconds.  Finally she said, "I was told you were engaged.  And even if you aren't the answer is no."

"I am engaged," I said, trying to keep my composure.  "But you're so ripe and I want to take a bite out of you.  Teach you a few lessons."  I winked, trying to feign confidence, and not let her initial brush-off dissuade me.

"Teach ME a few lessons," she glowered.  "What the heck is the matter with you?"  She softened.  "Okay, look, James, we just MET each other a week ago.  We're teaching children right now.  You aren't at all my type.  And frankly, I'm kind of shocked that you would proposition me right off the bat, especially given that you are engaged."

"Oh, sorry," I said.  Gosh, I sure said that to Women a lot.

"You should be," she said, shaking her head disapprovingly.  "What would your poor fiancé think?"

"Look, I'm really sorry, Talia," I said.  "I thought you were giving me signals."

"Signals?  What kind of signals?"

"Just- uh, the way you dress, and the way you act toward me."

"You're being really vague.  And you didn't answer my question.  What would your fiancé think?"

"She doesn't put out," I complained.  "She's waiting for marriage."

"That's not my problem.  And that's not an answer to my question.  You're quite evasive.  I have boys in my class who speak with more truth and integrity than you."

That one hurt.  I just stood there, not knowing what else to do.

"So," Talia persisted. "What would your fiancé say?  Maybe I should ask her myself."

I felt the hair stand up in back of my neck.  I'm sure she was just bluffing.  But still!

"Please, Talia.  I made a mistake."

"Yeah you made a mistake."

"Please don't tell her." 

But Talia was not looking at me anymore.  She was focused on a couple of the children in her class, two boys, who were now whaling the crap out of each other. 

"Tommy!  Michael!  Cut it out!" she said, breaking into a fast walk.  And she was gone.

 

INTERLUDE

The night of September 11th

RING RING!

Lori:  Hello?

Talia: Hi.  Is this Lori?

Lori:  Yes.  Who is this?

Talia: Hi, Lori.  My name is Talia Yount.  This is awkward, but I decided to give you a call out of respect for you as a Woman...because I think it's important that you are aware of something so that you don't get hurt.

Lori:  Okay. (Deep breath) Who are you?

Talia: I teach kindergarten at Hillcrest school.  I'm so sorry to bother you.  The only reason I'm calling is that I think it's important for Women to look out for other Women.  This is concerning your-- uh, I think he's your fiancé, James Pendergrass?

Lori:  Yes, he's my fiancé.  What did he do?  Is he okay?

Talia:  Oh, he's not hurt or anything.  Look, this isn't easy for me, but it's the right thing to do.  I thought you needed to know that James hit on me, rather crudely at school today.  Of course I told him no.  I knew from speaking to another teacher that he was engaged, and I would hate to see a sister get hurt.  So I thought you should know. 

Lori: That bastard...

Talia:  I want to reassure you again that nothing happened between us.  I totally shut him down.  Anyway, I'll let you go.  I'm so sorry.  Take care.

Lori: Wait-- what was your name again?  Talia?

Talia: Yes.

Lori:  Thank you, Talia.  I really appreciate you going out of your way to tell me about this.

Talia:  Of course!  I have a strong moral code.  Sometimes guys misjudge me because of the way I present myself.  I'm sort of counterculture and it makes guys think I'm easy.  But I'm not.  I'm actually quite the opposite, and I have some strong views when it comes to males and infidelity.

Lori:  Me too.  I mean what you said about infidelity, not the counterculture part.  I'm very straight-laced.

Talia:  I know, right?  Too many guys think they can get away with murder.  In an ideal world, it shouldn't be that way.   

Lori:  I am not at all surprised about James.  Do you have a minute, sweetie?

Talia:  Um, sure.  I just finished dinner.

Lori: James is such a child.  I think in a way that appealed to me about him.  He's older than me, but, uh, this sounds odd – in a way I felt like he was the type of man I could control.  Does that make any sense?

Talia: That makes a lot of sense.

Lori:  I was brought up in a conservative family.  I told James I wouldn't have sex until marriage.  At times he seems to accept it, but at other times he pressures me.  Lately that's happened a lot.  But my answer to him has always been “No.” If he loves me, he'll accept it.

Talia:  I respect that.  You want to keep your virginity until marriage.

Lori: (pauses, lowers voice) Between you and me, that's not exactly true, but that's what I wanted my future hubby to believe. 

Talia: (laughing) I totally get it, Lori.  There's a difference between the type of man you sleep with and the type you might want to spend your life with.

Lori:  Exactly.  This sounds materialistic.  Heck, it is materialistic, but I already feel like I can trust you.  James' father is a wealthy, successful attorney and James has plenty of money.  I thought he could give me financial security and I'd be able to keep him in check.  But more than that, I honestly thought James had some good qualities.  They just needed to be brought out, while I the same time I figured I could suppress the bad things about him.  James has the usual raging male hormones, but that's something I thought I could control.  Obviously I was wrong.

Talia: Not necessarily.

Lori: What do you mean?

Talia:  You might not realize it, but you may have been presented with the perfect opportunity to get exactly what you want out of your relationship with James.  As it so happens, I have a good deal of experience with what you are eluding to. 

Lori:  Oh?  Pray tell.

Talia:  How would you like to achieve an incredible amount of control over your relationship with James?  I'm talking about something beyond your wildest expectations? 

Lori:  I think I'd like it a lot.

Talia:  If you trust me, I think you'll be stunned -- in a good way -- with the results.  And I would be thrilled to play a big role in helping you get what you want.  I'd be more than thrilled.  I'd be honored, and I know I'd be doing some good for the world and for female-kind.  This is important to me.

Lori:  Wow.  That's pretty intense.  But I like it.  Please tell me more, hon.

Friday, September 13th --

I guess it's true what they say about Friday the 13th.

If only I knew Talia would have been so vindictive about the whole thing.  Then again, in a way the bitch is right that I have nobody to blame but myself. 

Today, I was walking across the parking lot to my car and Talia confronted me.  She was wearing a sundress, not that it matters, though I'd be lying if I didn't notice the way the dress clung to certain angles of her body.

She launched right into it.  Not even a hello. 

"I thought you should know I intend to speak to Karen about your conduct as soon as she gets back from her trip on Monday."

"WHAT?!"  I couldn't believe it.  This was the end of my career.  I suppose I should have been grateful that she offered me the chance to talk her out of it, or maybe grateful that Karen Johnson is currently attending a conference.

"Please Talia," I said.  "I'll be fired.  I'm sorry I spoke crudely to you.  Get over it."

"Oh, I guess I need to speak with your fiancé as well then."

I bit my tongue.  "It will never happen again.  Okay?  Are you satisfied?"

"Not even close," she said.  That's an empty promise as far as I'm concerned.  Sure you'll never hit on ME again, but I'm sure you won't stop your philandering ways.  Unless you pay a big price for your actions."

I couldn't believe how calm she was about the whole thing.  I was going out of my skull and she just stood there, calmly relaying her intentions to destroy my life.  I wanted to strangle her, but I'm not a violent person.  I asked her if there's anything I could do.  ANYTHING to avoid her sharing the information with Karen Johnson, or Lori.

Talia paused and looked off at the neighboring tennis courts before turning her surprisingly strong gaze back on me.  "You can tell Karen Johnson yourself.  That might work better for you.  It will allow you to confess your transgressions and maybe she'll take pity on you." 

"No way," I said.  "C'mon, what else can I do?"

Talia stared at the tennis courts again.  "There's another option, but I doubt you'll be up for it."

"What is it?" I said, not hiding my desperation.

"Forget it," she said.  "You aren't mature enough to handle it."

I wanted to prove to her that it wasn't true, that I was mature.  "Maybe I'll surprise you," I said.

"Have you ever heard of male chastity belts?" she said, out of the blue.

I had no idea what they were. 

Talia reached into her purse and removed her car keys, an unspoken signal that the conversation was coming to a close.  "Then it looks like you have some homework for the weekend.  Get on the internet and do some research."

"Fine.  I'll take a look," I said sarcastically, not at all thrilled that she told me I had fucking homework.

Talia folded her arms and gave me another really hard stare.  "Look at me, James, and listen very carefully.  I am not messing around.  On Monday morning, meet me here in the gymnasium an hour before the morning bell.  I expect a decision.  Either you are going to tell Karen Johnson what happened, or I am going to tell Karen Johnson what happened.  Or there’s the third option:  you are going to agree to be immediately fitted that evening for a male chastity belt.  Got it?"

I got it.

When I got home and got online, I realized the gravity of my situation.  Male chastity belts were torture!  At least that was my initial reaction.  It was something out of the middle ages.  They were these diabolical devices that were fitted around your dick and balls and in many cases kept you from being able to cum, or even get a fucking erection! 

I read further.  These belts had gotten quite popular.  A group of crazy, bossy Women used them as a device to actually control their men, keep them from messing around.  But it went even deeper.  Men in chastity belts often were not allowed out of their chastity belts for long periods of time.  The belts came with locks and keys and often times the Women held the keys and wouldn't unlock the male.  The Women often forced the men to do things since the men had such a powerful motivation to do what the key holder told them to do.  As I write this, I feel a chill.

The crazy thing is that as I think about Talia I can't stop getting an erection.  The thought of what Talia wants to get me to do is a bit exciting to me.  I have no idea why.  Would she actually hold the key?  For how long will I be forced to wear the belt?  As crazy as it seemed, maybe this was preferable to losing my job.  In a way it's kind of kinky, I guess.  Hell, I'm so horny all the time that everything is kinky.  Shit this whole thing is crazy.  I don't even know what to think.  Obviously I don’t actually want to wear a chastity belt.  But then why am I hard?

END PART ONE

Teaching The Teacher – Part II

By James Pendergrass

Copyright 2010 – All Rights Reserved

Saturday, September 14th --

Lori and I had a decent afternoon at Crystal Lake.  We did some swimming.  Lori looked incredible in her pink, two-piece bikini.  It took my mind off my troubles for a few hours, even though it also got me all hot and bothered.  She has an absolutely perfect body.  There's no other way to describe it.  I could see all the other guys staring at her and it made me proud.  I swear that Girl has no idea what she does to me.

Afterwards we had a bite to eat at the mall.  Lori seemed in good spirits today.  She was really warm and caring.  I love when she gets like that.  It felt like it's been a while.  During dessert, she took my hand and asked me if anything was wrong.  I swear Women have a sixth sense.  It didn't seem like I was letting on about my troubles at work with that crazy fucking psycho bitch, Talia.  I had to reassure Lori that everything was fine.  Having a chance to kiss her cheek at the end of the date made it all worthwhile.

Monday, September 16th --

Oh my God.  I can't believe what is happening to me.  Oddly enough, I guess it's not all bad.  I have no idea why, but somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, a few of my brain cells find the whole thing perversely erotic.  But the rest of me is like No No No NO NO!  Why did I ever have to cross paths with Talia Yount?  I think she is half insane.  Even if she isn't crazy, she's a total man-hater.  But rather than overload you with my opinions about this chick and the way she is bullying me (what the %$#@!!%$?), I will simply state the facts and you the phantom reader (since nobody will ever read this but me) make your own decisions about her.

Talia was waiting in the gymnasium when I arrived at 7:02.  I suppose she chose the gym because it's usually quiet an hour before school and we could always say we were shooting hoops or something.  I have to admit Talia looked good.  She wore a white cotton t-shirt and an orange skirt (Venus bulge in full effect), along with Keds that were formerly white, but she had taken a paint brush to, and had all these funky colors.  She had her hair in pigtails, which I had never seen before.  It worked for her.  Her arms were folded.

Without even saying hello, she said, "So what did you decide?"

The truth was I hadn't decided anything.  I launched into a disjointed two-minute speech about how I was very sorry and it wouldn't happen again and could she please just let this one go.  I had learned my lesson.

"You're wasting your breath," she said.

"Please, Talia.  Can't you be reasonable?"

"I'm being completely reasonable," she said, tapping her shoe idly on the floor.  "I've given you three potential options.  I don't know what else you could ask for."

I don't know why but I completely lost it.  "FUCK YOU," I said.  "WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU.  FUCKING DIE!"

And would you believe, Talia broke into a smile and turned and headed to the door.  "I guess I have to make the decision for you."

"Wait, Talia," I said.  "I take it back. 

She stopped and returned to where she had been standing before.  This time she had her hands on her hips.  "Look, James, you're out of control.  And if you think I have any sympathy for you, you're mistaken.  I knew you weren't sincere and your childish outburst confirms it.  Now you have ten seconds to make your decision, or I need to do what I think is right."

I hemmed and hawed, while Talia began tapping her foot again.

"Five seconds," she said.

"FINE," I said, exasperated.  "I'll wear a male chastity belt."

Talia smiled.  "I think at some point down the road you'll realize you made the right decision, James."

"This sucks.”

"Look," she said.  "I'm going to have to ask that you not use profanity in my presence."

"Okay," I said, suddenly feeling exhausted, my eyes glazing over as I stared idly at the foul line on the basketball court.

"Tell me, James -- and look at me when I talk to you please -- did you do your homework this weekend?"

"Huh?"

"Did you do some research on male chastity belts?"

"Yeah."

"Then you know you need to be properly fitted."  She reached into her pocketbook and handed me a piece of paper.  It had an address on it.  "That's my address," she said.  Meet me there at four today.  If you aren't there by 4:01, I have Karen Johnson's phone number and she'll be getting a call.  Understand?"

"Yeah."

"Say 'yes', James.  Even the young people in my classroom say yes."

I couldn't believe this.  Talia appeared to be somehow enjoying this.  I probably shouldn't have been surprised.  "Yes."

My surprise was about to turn to shock, as Talia cleared her throat and took a step toward me.

"James, I know you're bullshit about this whole thing, but here's some advice and I would really encourage you take it seriously.  Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"Good.  It's time for you to open your mind to the possibility that this may actually be a positive for you.  Your male ego has caused you to stop thinking rationally.  I'm going to help you defeat your male ego so that the real James can take its place."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes.  “Whatever.”

"Just wait a second," Talia said, for the first time showing a rare hint of physical irritation, which was odd considering she didn't appear irritated when I told her to fuck off and die.  "This is going to happen whether you like it or not," she said.  "Most Women in my position would just ignore you, but I don’t operate that way.  I want this to be a learning experience for you."

"How come you're allowed to swear and I'm not?" I said.

“Because I act like an adult and you act like a child," she said, not missing a beat.  "Now James, I suggest you begin trusting me and stop coming to knee-jerk conclusions about everything.  It will make this a whole lot less painful for you."  She glanced at her Swatch.  "I have to go."

All day long I couldn't get her words out of my head:

-Did you do your homework this weekend?

-This is going to happen whether you like it or not.

-Your male ego has caused you to stop thinking rationally.  I'm going to help you defeat your male ego so that the real James can take its place.

For the rest of the school day I pictured Talia standing there in her little skirt, telling me what was what, with that snobbish little monotone.  And it made me so mad, while at the same time I had to teach class behind my desk, so nobody could see my constant erection.  I lied to my class and told them I pulled a hamstring.

Talia lived in a decent apartment building in a semi-decent neighborhood.  I will say that she did a nice job decorating the place.  She must have taken a trip to Asia or Africa because there were all these sculptures of various Zulu and Indian shit.  She also had your basic living room equipped with a couch, coffee table and a small, conventional television.  When I arrived, she had changed into those jeans shorts and a pink cotton t-shirt.  Her pigtails were gone and her natty hair hung down to her shoulders.  She was barefoot. 

"This won't take long," she said.  "Come in." 

I had calmed some since this morning.  Much of my anger had been replaced by excitement.  But I was and am still bitter.

"How do you know I won't murder you?" I said rather lamely.

Talia laughed.  "I'm a good judge of character, James, especially male character.  I think you have some unhealthy rage, but nothing dangerous.  You know the difference between right and wrong.  Otherwise I wouldn’t even bother with you.  Does that make sense?”

It felt good to hear a compliment.  “I think so,”

Hang on.  I'll be right back."  She turned and bounded off into the other room, giving me a chance to admire that tight little ass.

She returned with a small footstool.  "Okay, James," she said.  "Stand on the footstool and drop your pants and underpants.”

“Huh?”

“How else do you think I’m going to measure you for a chastity belt?  I need to take a couple of measurements.  Then you can go."

She turned and went off into her kitchen, which was actually part of her living room.  I saw her grab a flexible tape measure off the counter.  My heart dropped.  Other than my mother way back when, I had never been naked in front of a female that wasn't a prostitute of some kind.

"What are you waiting for?" she said, not unkindly, approaching me and putting her hands on my hips.  "Want me to do it for you?"

Something about her touching my hips caused a tingle in my groin.  To my great dismay, I felt myself begin to grow in my trousers.  "No,” I said hoarsely.  “I can do it."

Talia let go of my hips and took a step back, holding the tape measure and facing me expectantly.

I reluctantly reached for the button to my trousers. 

"Come on," she said.  "I won't bite you.  Let's get this over with."

Down went my pants.  Down went my underpants.  Out popped my dick.  It was semi-hard and growing rapidly.  Fortunately it was slightly obscured by my shirttails.  For reasons unknown, I sucked in my groin so that my dick could hide momentarily behind the shirttails. 

Talia stepped forward, placing her hand on my inner-thigh, her fingertips tickling me subtly.  "Pull your shirttails up please."

It was like an electric shock when she touched me.  The blood rushed even faster to my dick.  And now I realized I had no place to hide.  By the time I pulled up my shirttails, Talia had a perfect view of my 90% hard dick, as well as the rapid transition to 95%, then 100% hard. 

"Sorry," I said, almost involuntarily.

"Sorry for what?" she said, glancing up at me and smiling deeply.  Under different circumstances it was a smile that might have melted my heart.  "Relax, James, I've seen penises before.  It's not a big deal."  I could see a tiny flush in her cheeks.  It made me wonder.

"No, I mean about the, uh, hardness."

"You mean the erection?  It's to be expected."  Her smile went away and her hand slid out and cupped my balls.  She tugged gently downward until my dick was facing at a 90-degree angle.  I gasped.  She held me there and appeared to be thinking. 

"Hmm, you know what.  I want you to hold your scrotum the way I'm holding it," she said.  "So your penis points straight out."

She released me and I hurried to replace her hand, while at the same time keep my shirttails hiked up.  She put her hands on her hips and waited patiently.

When I had complied with her request, she measured my penis.  "Four and 3/4 inches," she said.  "When erect," she added, writing it down on a piece of paper on her coffee table. 

I thought I was at least five inches!  Ugh.  Fortunately, Talia didn't seem to be a size queen.  She then measured the girth of my dick, both at the base and just beneath the head.  When she wrapped the tape around the head, I gasped with uncontrollable pleasure.  Talia said nothing.  She merely jotted down the numbers on her paper.  Lastly, she slid the tape measure beneath my balls and measured the circumference of the base of my genitals, the part that connected my organs to my pelvis. 

"Okay, we're done," she said.  "Get dressed."

I felt an odd sense of disappointment as I dressed.  My balls were also bluer than the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. 

"Oh, before you go, I need your credit card number," she said.  Then, "Relax, James.  I don't need your money.  I have everything I want.  Your credit card is so that you can pay for the chastity belt.  It's a little over $200.  Not cheap, but well worth it." 

Something about the inflection of her voice made me believe her, so I gave her my credit card and watched as she put in the order.

"It's totally sanitary," she said.  "Top of the line.  100% reliable."

I wondered what reliable meant, but I kept silent. 

"Okay, we're finished for now.  The belt will arrive in a week.  You can go," she said evenly.

For some reason, I wanted more.  "Don't you need a measurement when I'm flaccid?" I said, noting that I was temporarily flaccid and I wanted her to handle me again.

"No.  It's much more important to get an erect measurement.  And I have that.  A little under five inches.  They have math tables to indicate flaccid length." 

As I shuffled my feet to the door, I wondered why she had to describe the length of my dick again.

"James," her voice stopped me, and there she was right up in my grill.

"You made a good decision.  This is going to be a positive thing for you in terms of behavior modification."

"It wasn't MY effing decision," I said.

"Don't raise your voice at me," she said, raising her own voice slightly, and pointing her finger threateningly at me (and I felt threatened).  She paused and let her words sink in before clearing her throat.  Now she spoke with a softness, the way she might address one of her kindergartners.  "You're right, it wasn't your decision, James, but it is going to produce good results.  I'm going to put a stop to a lot of your bad habits.  Believe it or not, in the end you're going to thank me."

"I doubt it," I said, once again seething at the way Talia spoke down to me.  Behavior Modification!  A 24-year-old crunchy hippy chick talking to me about behavior modification and putting a stop to my bad habits.  Now I'm fucking furious again.

Now that I finished writing this, I feel myself alternating between anger and excitement.  The emotions are so confusing.  Maybe I'm wrong about Talia.  I don't really know what to think anymore.   

INTERLUDE

Tuesday, September 17th.  At The Nicest Restaurant in the Mall

Lori:  It's so great to finally meet you, Talia.  Cute outfit.  So funky.

Talia: [smiling] I'm not sure if funky is a compliment or not, but thanks.

Lori: No, honey, it's absolutely a compliment.  It's not my personal style, but you look great.  I love your blouse...you have a quirky sensibility, but you're quite feminine, I think.  Quite lovely.  I can see why James was interested.   

Talia:  Thank you.  That means something, coming from someone as gorgeous as you.  I mean -- you're beautiful.

Lori:  Aw thanks.  You're too sweet.

(The waiter arrives.  The Ladies order iced tea and salads)

Lori:  So I wanted to formally thank you for everything you're doing.  I've been doing some research, looking at some of those websites you recommended...and it's a whole new world.  I had no idea that sort of stuff went on.  It's really opened my eyes.

Talia:  Good, I'm so glad to hear that.  Just looking at you, I have no doubts whatsoever that you can make the rules in your relationship with James.  You have a natural air of authority.

Lori:  Really?  Do you think so?

Talia:  From what you told me, you already do make the rules, subtly.  Soon it will be much less subtle.

Lori:  I have to say, I'm pretty nervous about the next steps.  But at the same time I find myself intrigued.

Talia:  I'm so glad to hear that.  We'll move slowly.  I want you to be totally comfortable with what happens.  As far as I'm concerned, you're calling the shots here. 

Lori: [placing her hand on Talia's hand] That's really sweet.  But look, hon, if it's okay with you, I think you should call the shots for the time being.  It's abundantly clear you know what you're doing.  I completely support the plan you outlined on the phone last night.

Talia:  Are you sure?  Don't get me wrong, I'm totally happy to do it that way.  I do have to admit James has the potential to be the perfect subject.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to the process, but as soon as you want to step in, just give me the word.

Lori:  I will.  Don't worry.  And I do think that time will come.  There are so many aspects of this that interest me.  I just need a little more time to do more research and come up with my own plan of how to take charge of James.

Talia:  That's completely reasonable.  A Girl needs to do things at her own pace.

Lori:  I know, right?

Talia:  So, I'll take care of getting him locked away.  And I'll hold the key.  I'll do the first few weeks of training, or longer if need be.  And we can keep an open line of communication as things progress. 

Lori:  Perfect.  You know, I have to say, you're a complete badass.

Talia: (Laughing) I've never been called that before, but thanks.

Lori:  I’ve never called anyone that before.  Not sure what’s gotten into me.  Seriously though, it's so nice to meet such a confident young Woman who does exactly what she wants to do.  So many of my gal pals are off getting married, having kids, and being obedient, Stepford wives.  It never felt right to me.  And now I feel as though I’ve been shown the light. 

Talia: It was only a matter of time.  If it wasn't me, you would have discovered it on your own.

Lori: (nodding her head) You're probably right about that. (anticipatory sigh)  This is going to be so great!

Talia: I'm looking forward to it.  It is somewhat personal because of the way he conducted himself initially toward me. (straightens back, and sits up.  Her voice becomes slightly deeper and more determined) I'm going to make an example of him, and change his life forever.  It feels good to say that and know it's true.  And it's good to know that I'm playing a tiny role in changing the world for the better.  I really, truly believe that.

(The Drinks Arrive)

Lori: (holding up her glass)  Here's to....The Fall....of James. (giggles)

Talia: (Laughs) Perfect.  To the fall of James.  Or at least the fall of his ego.

Lori:  And his penis.

Talia: (hearty laughter) Not only is that funny, but it's literally true.  I think we're going to get along great, Girlfriend.

Lori: Me too, sweetie.  Me too.

Friday, September 20th --

I'm getting awfully nervous about this whole thing.  But unless I decide to quit and leave town, there's no way around it.  And I can't leave town without explaining things to my father.  There's no way it will work.  I'm stuck. 

I was hoping maybe Talia would chill out as some time went by, but it's clear from today's events that she is not chilling out.  This week it seemed as if she was avoiding me, so finally today when she left the lunchroom to go to the Ladies room I followed her out and tracked her down in the hallway.  It was quiet, as the kids were all at recess.

At first, it looked promising.  "Oh, I've been meaning to talk to you," she began.  "Your chastity belt is scheduled to arrive tomorrow.  But I'm busy this weekend, so we'll have to meet up on Monday."  Her eyes drifted down. "I hope you enjoy your last weekend of freedom."  Then, when she saw my look of despair, "Oh, I'm just kidding.  It's not that bad.  You'll get used to it."

"Yeah um, I wanted to talk to you about that," I said.  I explained to her that this was all a good scare, but we weren't really going to go through with this, were we?

She looked at me like I had just spit in her face.  "Are you serious, James?  Are you for real?"

I said of course I was for real.

Then her face changed.  She looked bored as she folded her arms and read me the riot act.  "This is getting old, James.  Don't you understand what has happened thus far and what is going to happen are both 100% real?  What, you think I was fucking bluffing or something?"

"I was hoping--"

"Look, James, as I said last week, you don't need to wear the belt.  It's no problem.  I'll just tell Karen Johnson what happened and you'll be out a job.  What do I care?  In fact, you know what?  I think I'll just go tell her now."  She began to move around me and head presumably to Karen Johnson's office.

I began to feel angry again, but I kept my composure.  "Wait, wait," I said, putting my hands up.  "There's no need for threats.  It's fine.  I guess I'll see you Monday."

She stopped and glared at me.  "Yes.  Monday at four.  Oh, before I forget, you're going to want to trim your pubes significantly.  I'm talking about the entire region.  Probably wise not to shave, but you should do something about the filthy genital nest I saw the other day.  It's for your own comfort."

"Ok."  I said, turning red.

"I presume you can find my place.  I can't stress this enough-- if you aren't there and fully compliant at 4:00, Karen gets a call.  I have her cell phone number."

I didn't have Karen's cell phone number.  Apparently Talia had a special relationship with her.  Now I have less than 72 hours until I-- I can't even contemplate it.  Maybe I can think of something, anything!

Sunday, September 22nd --

Tomorrow is the day.  And I can't think of anything.  I guess I'll have to just bite the bullet.  Maybe it won't be as bad as I thought.  Meantime, I've already whacked it three times today and I think it's a good day to break my old record.  Oh, and shit, I almost forgot.  I need to go trim my pubes.

Monday, September 23rd --

This isn't easy.  At all.  But I promised myself I would write about exactly what is going on in my life no matter how painful it was.  I never expected this type of pain.  I figured I would write about the fucked up world and how it made me feel.  Never in my wildest imagination did I think I'd be writing about the worst humiliation of my life.  At the hands of some grungy, but admittedly cute 24-year-old BITCH.  Ah, it pains me to even type these words.  And it probably is going to get worse.

This morning, Talia met me outside my classroom at the end of the first period.  "It has arrived," she said, winking at me.  "See you today at four.  Don't be late, young man."

I showed up at her place at 3:58, heart pounding.  I couldn't believe I was going through with this, but what choice did I have?  Topping it off, I couldn't keep my dick down, even with all the jacking off I'd been doing -- four times yesterday and twice more today.  Sometimes I don't know what is going on in my brain. 

Talia wore khaki shorts and a purple tank top.  For the first time I noticed she had a tiny tattoo on her shoulder.  It read, "Truth" Just after the 'h' in truth was a female astrological sign.  Not only that, she wore a small silver nose ring.  These aren't necessarily turn-ons for me, but something about Talia made it okay.  She had such slender limbs and such youthful milky-white skin.  And her body (by 'body,' I mean her hips, ass, legs and pelvis) filled her little shorts so nicely. 

"Right on time," she said.  "I need to prepare a couple of things.  In the meantime, I want you to take all your clothes off.  Everything.  Pants, underpants, shirt and socks included.  Birthday suit."  She pointed to the little step-stool.  "The step-stool is waiting for you."

I did as I was told.  My body was quivering as I stood on the stool and waited for Talia's approach.  She stood in the kitchen with her back to me.  She had removed something from the freezer and was rummaging around, getting things organized.  As I stood there watching her, I again began to feel the anger creep in.  She looked so small and insignificant.  How did I allow this to happen?

Suddenly she was standing in front of me.  "At last, the moment has arrived," she said.  "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to doing this.  Ah, and look, you trimmed your pubes.  Good boy.  The more you listen to me in the coming weeks and months, the easier this will be for you."

"MONTHS?!" I said, unable to believe my ears.

She gave me that increasingly intimidating stare, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.  "Yes.  Months.  Now, the first thing we're going to need to do is get rid of that erection."  She reached down and grabbed a plastic freezer bag filled with ice and water.  Then she brought it up to my groin and pressed it against my dick.  I gasped as the ice cold hit the most sensitive part of my body. 

"Wrap it," she said.  "It should have full coverage around your penis.  Like this--" She grabbed the bag of ice and, with surprising aggression and skill, engulfed my dick.  "There, just like a pig in a blanket," she said with a brief smile.  "Now you take it." 

I held the ice in place.  "Hold it higher," she said.  "I want to examine your balls."

I did as I was told and I gasped as Talia began bouncing my nuts around with her fingers.  "My God," she said, looking up at me with a condescending grin.  "How many times did you jerk off this weekend, James?"

That's when the full awareness of my predicament hit me.  Oh, the humiliation of having this Girl, this little hippie waif, asking me such a personal question...it was staggering!  I reeled in place as my mind searched in futility for an answer that wasn't embarrassing.

"Well?" Talia said, continuing to bounce my balls in her hand.  "I expect an answer."

"Maybe three, or...six times, between yesterday and today." I finally admitted, realizing that I couldn't lie to Talia anymore.  She just would know.  I felt it.

"Maybe three or...six times," she mimicked, chuckling heartily.  "So, in other words, you masturbated six times in two days.  Impressive in a pitiful sort of way."  She sighed.  "To me it sounds as if you might have a problem.  Six times is compulsive territory if you ask me.  Don't you agree?"

"I don't know," I stammered.  My mind was no longer functioning properly.

"Just agree with me," she said.  Then I felt a sharp little pinch in my scrotum.  It seemed to bring me out of my trance.  "James, six whackjobs in two days is a sign that you're a compulsive masturbator.  That is fact.  I hate to break it to you."

I just stood there.  I couldn't bring myself to agree with Talia.  I wouldn't do it.

"Okay," she finally said.  "We'll work on your compliance later.  For the time being, in the interest of expediency, I'm going to drop it."

Talia reached down on the table and opened a small black box.  Inside was the odd-looking clear-plastic contraption I had seen on the Internet.  There was no doubting what it was.  "Have a look.  I'm going to be in the other room for a few minutes.  Give me a holler when you think you're ready."

I stood there, dumbly contemplating my fate.  Stop thinking about it, I said to myself.  Just do it.  Fortunately because I had jacked off so much, it didn't take my hard-on long to subside.

"I think I'm ready, Talia," I shouted.  Just hearing my own voice made me quiver with trepidation.

In walked Talia a moment later.  I swear it looked as if she were suppressing a grin.  She moved very fast.  I think she knew I could get hard in no time. 

"Hold the ice there until I say," she said, removing the chastity belt from the box.  "Okay, James," she said.  "Remove the ice."

I removed the ice and my dick was totally numb and tiny!  It was this saggy little thing, maybe 1.5 or two inches tops.  “It’s not usually that small,” I said pitifully.

“Whatever.  Makes no difference to me,” Talia said evenly. 

With surprising dexterity and efficiency, Talia pushed the belt up to my groin.  She pinched the middle of my shaft with her thumb and forefinger and stuffed it into the sheath.  She spoke as she worked.  "The penis sheath is two and a half inches" -- on the small side, but perfect for you since you're less than 5" when erect and much smaller when soft.  See that?  Plenty of room." 

I don't know if she was chiding me about my size or not.  It was hard to tell since her voice was clinical in nature, and not mocking, but the words hit home.  

"The girth of the belt should be quite comfortable as long as you're able to control your erections.  Unfortunately for you, it takes men a long time to learn that sort of control.  But you'll have to get used to it," she said, feigning sympathy before positioning the base of the chastity belt -- a plastic O-ring -- around the base of my ball sack and snapped it shut.  It felt as if it was firmly in place but not uncomfortable.  A small key was attached to a little padlock up near the base of my dick.  Talia paused for a second before snapping the padlock shut decisively and removing the key without any additional fanfare.

"And that's that," Talia said proudly, folding her arms and admiring her handiwork.   "How does it feel, James?"

"How does it feel?" I could feel my face turning bright red.  "It's terrible!  Why are you such a man-hater?!" my rage bubbled to the surface, but it was accompanied by a helpless feeling.  I think I was on the verge of tears at that point. 

"Calm down," she said, brushing aside my anger like a summer moth.  She plopped down onto the couch and patted the cushion next to her.  "Come sit and let's talk." 

I did as she instructed.  God it felt weird, me sitting there in nothing but my chastity belt, next to this hot young hippie/funk chick in her shorts and tank top. 

"I'm not a man-hater.  I'm far from it."  She put her hand on my knee.  "Look, James, sometimes the toughest lessons in life are the best ones.  In your case, I think it will absolutely be true.  I know at times you're going to hate me, but you will definitely learn to respect me and you might even become grateful for what I have done." 

I was unsure, and I couldn't believe the way she spoke to me.  Not only that, having her hand on my knee caused a stirring in my groin.  I could feel the tightness of the belt.  Fortunately I kept in check, probably because I wasn't feeling too aroused at that time.  "Yeah right," I said.

"So bitter," she said.  "Look, it is what it is.  Your attitude will go a long way in determining how this works out for you.  The belt is going to be a part of your life.  My advice is to find a way to adjust."

I stared off at the mirror across the room and saw Talia's face.  It looked so self-assured.  What a contrast it was to mine.

"So, do you have any questions for me?"

"Yes, when can I get this damn thing off?"

Talia's face changed, from pleasant and happy, to serious.  "One thing you're going to learn very quickly is that you can never ask that question.  That's rule #1.  I will make that decision from now on and it will be based on a number of factors.  That question is a big no-no and it's considered bad behavior.  Since you don't know any better yet, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt this time.  But in the future, asking that question will result in the belt staying on for an extra week.  As it stands now, we will meet weekly, every Monday here at four.  At that point we'll review your behavior for the week and I'll decide whether or not to reward you."

I think my head almost exploded.  But at least I had the presence of mind not to get mad at her.  Instead I put my head in my hands and said, "A week?  Oh God, I can't believe this." 

I felt Talia's hand on my back, patting me consolingly.  All I could think of was the way she now spoke to me, talking about my behavior and lessons and rewards.  I looked up and there was this young fucking Girl, and an odd one at that, who was attempting to rule my world.  My mind searched for a way out.  And it will continue to search.

"What about Lori finding out?  What would I tell her?"

"From what you've told me about your relationship with Lori, this shouldn't be a problem for the time being.  If that changes, we can figure out what to do."

I put my head back in my hands.  As I wallowed in self-pity, I felt Talia speak directly into my ear.  "James, I need to get my workout in.  You're going to have to put your clothes on and get going.  Okay?"

I reluctantly got up and got dressed.  Talia sat on the couch watching me.  I couldn't even look at her, this thing that was tormenting me.  And the worst part was how pleased she seemed with everything.  Yet she managed to keep her emotions in check even though I think deep inside the bitch was bursting with joy.

She walked me to the door.  What happened next was even harder to believe.  My mind still reels from it.  "James, before you go, do you remember what I said about respect?"

"Yeah," I grunted, not remembering.

"What did I say?"

"You said, uh, respect is important."

"No, that's not what I said at all," she said.  She put her hand on my chest and cut in front of me, pointing her finger in my face.  "I said you will learn to respect me."

"We'll see," I said.

She chuckled.  "Yes, we will see.  We’ll see right now.  From now on I want you to call me Miss Yount.  I think it's appropriate given the nature of our relationship.  Whenever I address you and we're not in the presence of others, you need to say it without fail.  Do you understand?"

"Whatever," I said.

"No.  Not whatever.  James, look at me."

I resisted my violent urges and looked up at her.  She pointed her finger at me.  "James, we are scheduled to meet next Monday.  I am one step away from canceling that get-together and rescheduling it for two weeks.  Get the idea?"

I think my mouth was agape, as the seriousness of my situation began to sink in.  Yes...Miss Yount."

She flashed that annoying triumphant smile that I was fast getting used to. "Good.  I’m not going to have any more trouble from you, am I, James?”

"No."

"No what?  And James, look at me when I’m addressing you.  I hate having to repeat myself."

"No, Miss Yount.”

“Good.  That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, Miss Yount.”

Her eyes, already locked on mine, seemed to stare even deeper into my soul.  "You know what else isn't going to be so hard for a while, don't you, James?"

At that moment, I literally became light-headed with this feeling of defeat.  Rage coursed through my veins, but I knew I couldn’t do anything about it.  What a helpless feeling.  "Yes, Miss Yount."

Her smile lit up her entire face and made me burn even hotter.  “You can go now, James.  Have a good night."

As I drove home, I took my frustration out on my steering wheel.  My fists paid the price.

END PART TWO

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INTERLUDE

Tuesday evening, September 24th.  At Lori's condo. Talia and Lori sit in the living room, sipping iced tea.  Unbeknownst to James, Talia has been recording her meetings with him.  On this evening, she has just finished playing a Lori the tape of James' belting from the prior evening.

Lori:  Ahahahahaha.  You know what else isn't going to be hard for a while.  (Lori regains composure)  Gosh, what a destruction.  It’s like, by controlling his penis, you control his soul.  You can tell he doesn’t like it, but he has no choice.  I suppose I shouldn't laugh.

Talia: Why not?

Lori: I don't know.  Because it's not nice to take pleasure in other people's misfortune?

Talia:  That's true in most instances.  But might I suggest that you drop that notion in this case.  One of the great joys of female supremacy is laughing at men and their failings. 

Lori:  You don't think it's mean?

Talia:  Of course it's mean.  That's the point.  Sometimes you have to be a little bit mean to get your point across.  Never hesitate to laugh at him either when he's in the room or when he isn't.  Although this is serious business, it should also be highly enjoyable.  It should be both serious and enjoyable.

Lori:  I see what you’re saying.  The whole thing is clearly so real.  At the same time I find myself feeling a deep sense of satisfaction, or even joy, as I listen to that tape.

Talia:  Me too.  You're gonna discover that it feels really good to dominate men.  Look, men have been treating Woman like shit since the beginning of time.  Now the tables are turned.  You said you didn't want to be like all your friends, right?

Lori:  No, I don’t.

Talia:  Because you want to be in charge.  You don’t want some dude telling you how to live your life.  You want to hold the cards in your relationship.  I knew it the first time we met. 

Lori:  You have a point.  But I don't want to be a raving bitch. 

Talia:  I don't either.  Being an effective take-charge Woman is about knowing when to use a carrot and when to use a stick.  Men are actually easier to train than animals.  But sometimes you need to get tough while always maintaining your femininity.  There’s a difference between being bitchy, which is a very healthy thing for a Woman to be if you ask me, and being a bitch.  It's a fine line.

Lori:  You seem to be able to walk it.  Everything you say has a bitchy quality about it, even when you aren’t necessarily bitching.  I think it’s so cool.  You’re bitchy-cool, Talia.  You know that?

Talia:  (laughs) Thanks Lori.  I have a fair amount of practice.  Remember, I've been learning about this lifestyle since I was 12 years old.  And soon enough you’ll be able to do it too.  You have such a natural dominant aura. 

(Lori nods her head as though she's come to a certain realization and breaks into a big smile)

Lori:  I can't believe the jerk masturbated six times!  I never knew when I told him to visit Rosy Palm that he made so many visits.

Talia:  Yes, he yanked his frank six times.  What did you call it?  Rosy Palm?  I love it.  That's hilarious.

Lori: Not as funny as yank your frank.

(Talia makes a fist and brings it to her navel and begins pumping it wildly, eyes rolling back in her head, and mock-groaning.  Both Ladies burst into laughter)

Lori: Seriously though.  What the fuck is the matter with him?  I had no idea my withholding sex would cause him to go so haywire.

Talia:  For men like James, masturbation is an incredibly powerful addiction.  I can guarantee you it wouldn't be much different even if you were offering sex, as gorgeous as you are.  You have to understand, it's a very serious compulsion.  That's why we're actually doing him a lot of good, as hard as that may be to believe.

Lori:  It comforts me to hear you say that, Girlfriend.  With all of his problems and his apparent inability to keep his hand off his little penis, I do love James.  Don't ask me why.

Talia: I know you love him.  He has some useful qualities and you're going to be amazed at his transformation now that his penis has been put on lockdown.

Lori:  You don't think he's going to be mad.

Talia: Of course he's going to be mad.  But that’s his problem, certainly not ours, and he'll get over it.  The chastity belt will eventually choke his anger and his male ego right out of him.  I don't want to come off as preachy, but do you want the full scoop on what the impact will be like for him?

Lori:  Of course I do, sweetie.  I told you I trusted you 100% and now it's more like 110%.  Don't you dare hold back on me!

Talia:  Good.  I'm happy to hear that.  Let me lay it all out there for you. (pregnant pause)  There's absolutely nothing more powerful than a male chastity belt when it comes to dominating men.  Nothing.  I'm not just talking about sexually dominating them, although that's a given.  I'm talking about dominating every aspect of their life.  Think about it.  James masturbates a lot. 

Lori:  You mean masturbated.  Past tense.

Talia:  Ha!  Exactly.  Why would somebody do something a lot?

Lori:  Ah, because he likes it?

Talia:  Exactly.  Only let me take it a step further.  James loves to masturbate.  More than he loves anything else in the world.  Because his penis gives him deep sexual pleasure.  Now, what I'm doing is controlling his biggest pleasure.  I intend to deny him most of the time and make it so he only gets his freedom when he does what I want him to do.  That's why I made him call me Miss Yount.  You could tell he didn't want to do it.  In his confused mind he thought he was superior to me because I am younger and female.  Being forced to call me Miss Yount was extremely humiliating to him.  But that's what I wanted -- mostly because I know he didn't want to do it, and I wanted to illustrate to him that he is owned by a young Woman now.  And in the end, he did it, effectively confirming his subservience to me.  You could hear how much it pained him to admit this.  But he had to because I am now the center of his world.  I control everything that is important to James.

Lori:  Amazing!  Sensational!  You’ve reduced him to your pet.  And now you’re training your pet!

Talia:  Precisely.  I like to use the word 'reprogramming.'  I'm literally taking control of James' brain by denying his greatest pleasure.  And now I'm reprogramming his brain to serve female-kind.  Soon enough he will bow before his superiors, ie Females, without a second thought.

Lori:  This is so great.

Talia:  I know, right?  As you probably can tell, my most powerful teaching weapon is sexual humiliation.  God I love that word and what it means.  I intend to constantly humiliate James and embarrass him through various creative methods.  In my experience, intense sexual humiliation is by far the most effective way of reprogramming men.  Now, don't worry.  He'll never touch me and I will never have my clothing off around him.  That's one of the key components of the humiliation factor.  I will always be clothed and composed, totally dignified as a Woman should be, while James will be fully exposed.  That's one of the reasons I prefer the translucent chastity belt, if you get my drift.

Lori:  Ha ha.  He has no place to hide his little penis.

Talia:  Precisely.  This will be a powerful learning experience for James.  His entire way of thinking will be reprogrammed.  In the end, he will be a better person, but you'll be the real beneficiary.  I think you'll be pleased with the results, Lori.  In fact, I know it.

Lori:  This is so incredible.  How will I ever repay you?  Give me a hug.

(Lori and Talia share a warm, emotional embrace)

Talia:  The question is how can I repay you?  I love nothing more than presiding over the defeat of the male ego.  It's not like I have many other hobbies, other than listening to my music and reading books.  And I have to say, this is an especially enticing scenario for me.  James is a great subject.  So let's just say this is great for both of us, girlfriend.

Wednesday, September 25th --

It's been two days and already I'm beginning to have major problems with this mutherfucking chastity device.  It first started yesterday morning when I awoke to pain in my groin.  I realized I was getting my usual morning wood and the belt was stifling me before I could even get started.  I, uh this is embarrassing, but I looked down and saw my dick squeezing against the inside of the belt the way a child might press his face against a glass window as a joke.  Difference is that this was no joke.  I could feel this strange throbbing, sort of like what I get when I'm really horny and erect, only this time I wasn't even close to erect.

I began tugging at the belt to see if I could pull it off, but it was really secure.  I got in the shower and soaped up my balls like crazy, so that I could maybe squeeze my sack through the o-ring, but the o-ring was too narrow.  I began to get frantic, really yanking at that mutherfucker and stretching my shit away from my body, but it was hopeless.  @!*#$!@%! 

It gets worse.  Today, I was in the break room and Talia walks in.  Get this -- she was wearing my chastity key on a silver chain around her neck.  I was sitting across the room from her in the break-room.  She sat with three other Women, older teachers in their late 30s/early 40s.  (Talia has been quite popular with the older female teachers; I often see them eating together.)  One of them asked Talia what the key was for. 

"Just some minor possessions of mine," she smiled and took a bite of salad. 

At first I didn't get why she used the plural.  It took me a moment to realize she was referring to my cock and balls!  That conniving FUCKKKKIN TWAT!!!!! 

"How mysterious," one of the other Women said. 

"It looks nice anyhow.  You always have such a cool, hip vibe, Talia," another said. 

After an uncomfortable day at school, I immediately went to the hardware store and bought a couple of different padlocks that looked to be the same size as my belt.  I tried those keys but they didn't work, so I fiddled around with a paperclip for two hours.  No dice!  Finally I let out a loud shriek of frustration and ended up having to apologize to my frightened neighbors, this elderly couple.  I took some Advil, had a few beers and tried to forget about my plight.     

This sucks.

Thursday, September 26th --

Oh lord.  What a tough day.  I was thinking about what I could do to get this chastity belt off.  And I just don't think I can deal with the embarrassment of sharing my plight with someone else.  Certainly not any of my guy friends.  No fucking way.  And not Lori either.  What would she think?  It would be awkward.  She'd probably think I was doing something perverted and/or she'd run from the room screaming.

Today, Talia -- ugh -- I promised I'd keep this real.  (my inclination is to call her every name in the book in print, but it will only make me angrier)  She basically laughed in my face.  It's more complicated than that though.

This time at lunch she came over from the circle of Ladies and caught my eye as I was washing out my lunch bowl in the sink.  "Psst, I need to see you briefly today.  Wait for my call after school.  I need you to swing by my place for a moment."

I started to think maybe she was going to release me early, that she'd made her point.  Hope bubbled up inside me.  So I get over to her place and she invites me in.  This time she was wearing a sleek purple tank-top, tight black pants and had Ipod headphones around her neck. 

"I have one foot out the door," she said.  But I wanted to check up on you to see how your first week was going.  Come stand in front of me, while I sit on the couch."

She motioned me to her as she sat down.  "Pull your pants and underwear down, James."

As I pulled on my pants, I started speaking:  "It's not going well at all.  It's painful.  I can't believe I agreed to this.  It's just not working."

"Whoa, slow down," Talia said.  First off, you didn't agree to anything.  I put you in chastity because it was the right thing for me to do, as well as the right thing for you.  Second off, this is a more formal process than you think.  You can't be so undisciplined and expect me to react positively to it.  During our interactions, you're to speak unless spoken to and remember my proper title.  Do you understand?"

Before I could respond, Talia reached forward and casually took hold of my scrotum, tugging it gently toward her, while leaning forward.  She tugged my balls back and forth, and pressed her thumb on the underside of my fucking belt, hoisting my enclosed fucking dick into the air.

She wasn't squeezing my balls at all, but she had a firm grip that caused me to swallow the lump in my throat.  "Yes, Miss Yount."

"That's better," she said, pushing my dick even higher before sliding her hand out of the way and letting it fall back against my nuts.  My dick began to press against the cage in total futility.  Yet it just hung there limply between my legs, pointing at the floor.  I could feel my face reddening as Talia looked up at my face and gave me the triumphant smile that I was beginning to hate more and more.

"Now, listen to me carefully.  The first week is very h-- (she caught herself) the first week is very difficult." She smiled and shook her head.  "I have very little sympathy for you though, James.  Denial isn't supposed to be easy for compulsive male masturbators.  You will get used to it though." 

Again she reached out casually and gripped me where it counted.  Again she slid her thumb beneath my caged dick and flipped it upward.  This time she held it there.  (How else was it supposed to point at the ceiling?)  "Your groin looks as if it's handling the first few days quite well.  No abrasions from what I can tell.  The ball ring is doing its job.  It's a little red.  Tell me, James.  How hard did you try to get it off?"

"Huh?" I said, surprised by the question.

"Don't bullshit me, James," she said, with a totally straight face.  This is meant to be a simple Q&A.  I ask questions.  You give me honest answers.  It's like you still don't understand the situation you're in.  Now tell me how hard you tried to get your chastity belt off?  I assume you tried soap in the shower.  And you probably went to the hardware store.   I want you to confess all the ways you tried to take your chastity belt off, James.  Right now.  And remember, I know when you’re lying."

I never felt so trapped in all my life.  My face must have looked like a tomato.  "I did all the things you said, Miss Yount.  I bought several padlocks, but the keys didn’t work.  And I used a paperclip and tried to pick the lock."

"Good, James.  The truth, in this case, won’t set you free.  You realize that, right?”

“Yes, Miss Yount.”

“But at the same time I appreciate your honesty.  It’s a step in the right direction.  Soon you’ll be 100% honest with me all the time.  You know that, right?”

I hesitated before finally mumbling agreement.  I felt so damned humbled that I could only stare at the floor. 

I feared she would punish me for my hesitation, but instead she just laughed and raised her voice ever so slightly.  “Trust me, James.  You’re going to learn to be 100% honest with me.  You have no choice.”  I continued to stare at the floor, my forehead burning like magma.  At that moment, I decided I wanted to be anywhere but where I was.

Now Talia had leaned forward and turned her head sideways, so that she was in my line of sight, speaking with that condescending voice normally reserved for her students.  “Look at me, James.”  She gave my balls a firm tug and pulled her head back into a comfortable position on the couch.  Knowing the consequences of disobeying her, I reluctantly followed her eyes with my own.

Once she was satisfied that our eyes had met, she nodded her head and flashed that irritating, superior smile.  “So where were we, James?  Ah yes, we were discussing your attempts to secretly remove your chastity belt.  Clearly we have to conclude your efforts were a complete failure."  To emphasize her point, she released my dick and it dropped listlessly between my legs.  “And you tried so hard, didn’t you, James?”

“Yes, Miss Yount.”

“Of course you did.  It must really suck to try so hard at something and fail and know that you’ve been had, huh?”

For the first time, I felt myself beginning to get choked up.  But I refused to give in.  I didn’t want to give her that satisfaction.  “Yes, Miss Yount.” 

“I told you this was a serious piece of hardware.”  She grabbed the tip of my chastity belt and lifted it up yet again with her thumb and forefinger.  Again it dropped down, dead as Jimmy Hoffa.  She did it two more times, four in all.  I was on the verge of hyperventilation.  I worried I might faint. 

Talia stood and got up in my face.  "You're a total limpdick now, James."

My rage was such that I couldn’t help but turn my head away from her.  But fucking Talia took my goddamn chin and made me look at her.  "It’s clear I’m going to need to pound this into your head until you get it, so listen extra carefully -- your masturbation days are over, limpdick." 

For some reason, that really hit home.  That name.  Limpdick.  It's fucking killing me.  And my mind kept going back to what she had said before that:

It must really suck to try so hard at something and fail and know that you’ve been had, huh?

The lump in my throat was the size of a softball.  Because what she said was 100% true.  I’ve been had.

Still holding my chin, now she lowered her voice and spoke in a more Girlish tone.  "Has the cat has got your tongue, limpdick?  Understandable.  But you need to show me more respect than I’ve seen so far.  You're going to have to if you want me to release you this coming Sunday."

"Yes, Miss Yount," I said.  "I'll try to do better."

"I know you will," she said, finally releasing my chin.  "Now you and your limp dick can get dressed."

Once I was dressed she showed me to the door.  This time she didn’t need to ask me to look at her.  She had my full, undivided attention.  "Be a good, respectful boy, not only to me but other Women in your life, of all ages, limpdick.  I need to see some real respect from you want to get relief any time soon."

END PART THREE

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