Missy gives herself to Mick. Her training begins.
Enjoy
xantu
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Missy knelt on the thin exercise pad and put the clothes pin on her lips. It was ten minutes until 8:00 but she could not wait any longer. Just the knowledge that he was going to walk into the house soon had her trembling with excitement.
It seemed like five weeks instead of just five days ago when she had watched him leave. Her heart had nearly broken as she watched him walk out the door leaving her alone to face her demons in this house that was not a home.
He had called it a crypt and she had sensed the truth in his words. There was no comfort or safety here, only sadness and shame. She wasn't sure why she had come back to this place, but she suspected it was because she shied away from life. Unable to feel happy she hid from the rest of the world trying to hide from her sadness, existing without love, waiting to die.
If it had not been the long list of tasks he had left her with she suspected that she would have gone mad. He had stripped away all her carefully marshaled defenses, ripped open old wounds, pushing her to face her sadness. And then he had gone, leaving behind a list of tasks and the torture of seeing him and not being able to speak or touch him for the week.
Each day as she taught her English Writing class, it was bizarre to look up and see him sitting in the classroom of students, his stormy gray eyes watching, measuring yet saying nothing. He did not smile, nod, or give her any comfort. He had promised to call but there had been no call. She found looking at him too frightening, the urge to cry out to him, to beg him for something, anything to relieve her agony nearly overwhelming. Her eyes could look at anything but him. Her teaching suffered as she stammered and then mechanically recited her instructions to the class.
She had cut and dyed her hair and worn the makeup the way he had told her too. It had caused quite a stir among her students. Several of the girls were enthusiastic, exclaiming that she looked so much more stylish with the braids. She was surprised when several of her coworkers had complimented her on the style change as well, but no one had made reference to Abby Sciuto, much to her relief.
When she had gotten the birth control injection and put the red apple on the desk, he had not even looked at it.
She had thrown herself into the tasks he had set for her, cleaning the basement meticulously and then dusting and arranging all the porcelain figurines, and other mementoes of her mother's acquisitive life in orderly groups with labels. She had dug out many of the original sales slips and other documents from her mother's records and after looking on EBay and other internet sites she had written down an estimated asking price for many of them.
It had been hard going through her mother's things. Over and over she would hear her mother's voice harsh and shrill, forbidding her to touch them, calling her clumsy and careless, saying that she would break them. The impulse to smash them was still strong in her. She remembered all the times when she would sneak into the forbidden living room and secretly push a delicate figurine to the edge of its shelf and to her ecstatic terror and delight, leave it precariously balanced praying that it would fall and break once she was gone. Even now it was easier to hate this detritus of her mother's compulsive collecting than to hate her mother.
Starting her own EBay account had been much easier than she had anticipated. She bought a simple digital camera and practiced taking pictures, found an image hosting site and set up a PayPal account. She had put up almost two dozen items for auction and she was starting to enjoy the thrill of seeing that people were actually bidding. The idea that soon these loathsome little things would soon be cluttering up someone else's lives was intoxicating.
It had been hard to keep in touch with missy. Each time she handled her mother's things, baby Sarah would whine and push at her consciousness. The impulse to touch herself, to feel again the rush of freedom and excitement that kept missy alive and vibrant in her mind and banish the sadness was overwhelming. Over and over she would catch her fingers sliding down and exploring the aching need between her legs, only to pull her hand away as his words forbidding her to do this echoed in his mind.
Even now as she knelt waiting for him, the urge to disobey him, to allow her hand to creep the scant few inches from where it rested on her thigh to the aching heat that throbbed between her legs was almost irresistible. Only the hope that he would be here soon kept her hand at bay. There was a growing sense of insecurity building in her heart. The fear that he would not come, that somehow this had all been an illusion, a delusion of madness, grew in her. Inside her head missy fought with Sarah, insisting that he would come, that he would not forget her, as Sarah whined and cried that no one could ever love her, that she was bad, that she was dirty.
She did not know how long she knelt there, minutes or hours, shaken by the winds of her anticipation and doubts. When she heard his feet walking through the main floor above where she knelt in the basement, the wave of relief was so strong she almost collapsed to the floor. She had not even been aware of how tightly she had been held her pent up energy until it threatened to explode, her body surging, fighting to stand and run to him. Missy screamed in triumph, he is here! She would have called out to him but the clothespin holding her lips together reminded her to hold her words trapped in her mouth. She held herself rigidly under control; still an excited whine shook her chest.
Mick did not come down to the basement for what seemed to be a long time. But missy basked in the sound of his footsteps above her, he was here and he would come to her at the time of his choosing. All doubt was gone and all that remained was anticipation.
When she heard his feet on the stairs, descending down into the part of the house he had claimed as his, she found her excitement building with each firm thump of his feet bringing him closer to her. She could not resist craning her neck, straining to glimpse him as he entered into the play room, her heart racing. Her whole body was shaking so hard that the clothespin on her lips vibrated in a kind of crazy syncopation with her shuddering excitement.
When she caught sight of him her breath caught in her chest. An irresistible wave of excitement made her whole cunt clench and spasm. A small wave of pleasure rolled over her from the small orgasm that ignited spontaneously in her core.
He was wearing his usual tattered jeans and t-shirt. His hair was tousled and hanging down over one of his eyes. He had a beer in his hand and he stopped and looked around the basement, taking in the clean curtains and shining floors. He nodded and smiled to himself.
As his eyes turned to her, missy found herself suddenly inexplicably shy, turning her eyes downward to her hands as they strained against the muscles of her thighs, her nails digging into her skin. She forced her hands and then the rest of her body to relax, but it was at odds to the tumult in her mind. She could relax but she could not still the trembling in her limbs.
When he finally spoke to her, the very sound of his voice triggered another wave of pleasure. "You have been kneeling for a long while. I am late."
Her eyes flashed up to his but she did not speak. It was not a question.
"Missy let's get you up and let you stretch your legs. It is after 9:00. You have been on your knees for over an hour." He reached his hand down to her and pulled her to her feet. She stood and then staggered, for the first time becoming aware that her legs had gone completely numb. The storm of emotions in her mind keeping her oblivious to her body's growing discomfort. As the circulation returned to her legs a million needles stabbed deep into her muscles, she clenched her teeth and whimpered.
"Walk around missy. Walk it off." She ground her teeth as she took a shaky drunken path around the room. He nodded and encouraged her. "Good girl. It was not my intention to leave you so long on your knees but sometimes things just work out that way."
