Melissa walked into the classroom. As soon as she saw the group of people inside, she stopped dead, backed out, read and re-read the sign on the door, then took two or three hesitant steps back inside with an expression of pure and unadulterated confusion on her face. This...did not look like the local PTA meeting.
And it wasn't like Melissa didn't know a PTA meeting when she saw one. As an Army wife, she'd gone through the routine of getting her sons settled into a new school more times than she wanted to count. She was used to walking into a room of cheerful women wearing floral-print dresses and cardigans, seeing the same faces if not the same people, bonding over bake sales and pancake breakfasts and school carnivals. She could probably pick out a PTA mom out of a police lineup if she had to. But this...
Melissa looked again at the women looking at her. She leaned back again, looking at the door again, but there was the sign. 'P.T.A. Meeting Tonight: 8 PM.' She leaned forward again, even more hesitantly before. "Is...this the PTA meeting?" she asked, entirely certain that someone would correct her.
Instead, one of the women standing at the front said, "Yes, come in!" She beckoned with immaculately manicured bubble-gum pink nails that Melissa couldn't imagine lasting for more than three hours without chipping in her household. "I'm Vickie, I'm the President of our local chapter, and oh my gosh, it is so nice to meet you! There's a seat free over between Jackie and Cassie, just go ahead and sit down there, and we can go ahead and get started! Oh, gosh, it's just so exciting to have a new person here!"
Melissa tried to control her expression as she walked down the row of desks, but she couldn't imagine the other women didn't notice her wide, staring eyes. But they all looked like Vickie. Perfect, shimmering nails in every color of the rainbow. Faces done up flawlessly in matching colors-there wasn't a single woman in the room who looked like they'd hit the ground running after making dinner and hadn't had time to touch up their eye-shadow. Low-cut, high-hemmed outfits that accentuated their curves like they planned to go out later and turn tricks. Curves to be accentuated-Melissa thought she'd done a good job of keeping her figure after two kids, but she looked plump and dowdy next to these women. And each and every one greeted her with that same cheerful, sing-song voice that Vickie used. The phrase 'Stepford Wife' popped into Melissa's mind, unbidden.
She sat down. Jackie and Cassie both looked over at her in perfect unison, and it took all of Melissa's self-control to keep from bolting. "Hi!" they said, speaking with that same eerie, sing-song cadence. "It's so nice to meet you, Missy!" There was an echo of similar responses moving down the rows of desks.
Melissa decided to assert herself early. "It's Melissa, actually," she said, using her best Southern 'bless your heart' voice. She might be out of her element...and creeped right the hell out...but she had dealt with enough feminine pecking orders to know how to rule a roost in short order.
Up at the front, Vickie said, "Of course it is," in exactly the same voice Melissa used on her younger son when he insisted he was secretly Superman. Melissa fixed her grin into position with a samurai's determination. "It's so good that we could welcome you to join us tonight. There really aren't that many women in town who aren't already in the local chapter, so it's nice to see a new face."
Melissa had to admit, the place was crowded. There probably weren't more than 800 people in the entire area, but they still filled every single seat in the room with a half-dozen women up at the front. Not that she blamed them-after a couple of weeks at Dugway, probably even the local PTA meeting started to look like a social event. Maybe that was why they dressed up for it. (Still, all of them? Identically? Melissa's fingers itched to Google that Nicole Kidman adaptation and see where it was set.)
"So," Vickie continued, looking straight at Melissa like she was the only woman in the room, "is this your first time attending a P.T.A. meeting?" Vickie smiled her way around every word, like she'd taken something a little too strong for her back pain (she had to have back pain, right? The dress might be flattering them, but those boobs had to make it hard to stand up straight) or her foot pain (Heels? Who wore stiletto heels to a PTA meeting?) and the whole world was glowing pink for her.
Melissa refused to rise to the patronizing bait. "I've been to PTA meetings in three states in five years," she said calmly. "I know there are always local differences, but I'm sure I can catch up pretty quick."
"Well, we are all about learning!" Vickie said, her voice sickeningly pert. "We'll have you back to being a perfectly trained automaton in no time. Anyway, girls, let's get to the first item on the agenda-Hollie wanted to show us all a really wonderful trick for suppressing your gag reflex when deep throating. She puts her left thumb inside her fist, under her fingers, and squeezes it like so..."
Melissa's eyes nearly popped clean out of her head as one of the other women at the front of the classroom pulled a massive dildo out of her purse, held up her hand and closed her fingers over her thumb, then slid the entire thing down her throat in a single smooth gesture. "Oh my God!" she blurted out, not even realizing she'd spoken until every other face in the room turned to look directly at her.
"I know!" Vickie said, grinning widely. "Isn't it amazing? I mean, I've never had any problems swallowing cock, but not every girl is that lucky. Sometimes training is just about finding new ways to override your silly old brain's natural habits. Isn't that right, girls?" A ripple of nods moved through the crowd of women like they were trying to do the wave with just their heads.
