Nobody wants to live a double life. To deceive and lie to your friends and family is a burden that I wouldn't wish upon anyone. Unfortunately, this is my reality, and my living nightmare.
It has now been several months since I first became entangled in Ms. Wescott's web; and in that time, I have done the most vile sexual acts, all of which I want nothing more than to take to my grave, never to be revealed.
To most people, I'm an innocent, church going girl who can do no wrong. Every Sunday morning, I'm on my knees at church, praying to a God who I have complete faith in. To the very few people who know my other side, I'm a submissive slut, obedient Ms. Wescott, a wicked woman who is supposedly my wife. Every Sunday night, I'm on my knees in her bedroom, either getting bent over the sturdy, wooden footboard of her bed while she takes me from behind with her strap-on, or I'm doing some other perverted act that she demands of me. This continues on, of course, so that she can appease Satan, and I can maintain the dire secret of what I've gotten myself into.
Despite all of this, I have held onto hope, and stayed true to my faith. I know that God will see me through these dark times. He is my light, and I know that He will not abandon me.
Jessica, on the other hand, has since become despondent in regards to all things spiritual, and her faith has waned. I can hardly blame her, though, and I continually pray for her salvation, as well as mine. Sadly, I feel that until we rid ourselves of Ms. Wescott's corrupting influence, both of our souls are in danger of eternal damnation.
What's worse of all is that my actions have lead to the downfall of other souls. The cries, whimpers, grunts and moans of the girls whose virginities I have helped to take echo in my mind, tormenting me. Their faces and naked figures are burned into my mind forever, and I can often see them when I close my eyes at night before I sleep... Or rather, when I'm able to sleep. A burdened conscience is not a kind companion.
Thankfully, I've had limited contact with the young women with whom I've had sexual encounters. When I see them around the school, we either avert our eyes away from each other, or leave in order to avoid being in the same room or area. And when I see Ms. Wescott interact with them, she's always polite and professional, like nothing ever happened. She is a true credit to those who serve the Lord of Lies, and watching her in action makes me sick.
This uneasy peace between Ms. Wescott, Jessica, myself, and one of her victims, however, was about to come to an abrupt end.
"You think you can just fuck me and I'll forget all about it?!" I heard a voice say loudly from behind me one day at work while I was walking down an otherwise empty hallway.
My heart stopped, and all of the color drained from my face. Not only was the message shocking in and of itself, but to hear that type of language at a religious school was totally out of place, and sure to draw attention from anybody within earshot.
With my body frozen in place and my mouth agape, I mustered just enough courage to slowly turn around to see who was addressing me. I thought that I recognized the voice, but I absolutely dreaded to find out. One thing was for sure: this did not bode well for me.
As the figure behind me came into view, my guess was confirmed... It was Megan. She was looking straight into my eyes, and seething with anger.
I stood there silently for a moment, and then looked around to see if there was anybody else who may have heard what she said.
"What?!" I finally said to her, my voice trembling.
"You heard me, you fucking bitch," Megan replied, this time at a much lower volume. "Tell me, how long have you been doing this to people? How many girls have you taken advantage of?" she continued.
"I don't know what you're talking about. If this is a joke, I don't think it's funny," I said, unsure of who else may be listening, and eager to end the conversation. I then turned, and started walking in the opposite direction as quickly as I could. My heart was racing so fast that it felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.
"Don't you fucking walk away from me!" Megan yelled. But I didn't look back at her, or say anything in response; I just wanted to get away from her as quickly as I could.
For the rest of the day, my mind was completely occupied with thoughts of that interaction. Megan was willing to call me out in public! I didn't want to believe this was happening.
I could only think of one solution to this problem, as disturbing as it was: tell Ms. Wescott what had happened. I didn't want to, but if anybody would know how to handle this situation, it would be her. I was terrified, however, to think to what lengths she might go to in order to silence Megan. Would she make threats, or even resort to murder? Nothing was out of the realm of possibly for somebody who worshipped Satan, as she did. Still, I felt it was my best option, and so I resolved to tell her. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?
Later that day, at the end of school, I approached her. "Ms. Wescott," I said sheepishly. I was always anxious anytime I had to interact with her.
"Oh, hi Samantha! What can I do for you, sweetie?" she replied, cordial as always.
"We have a problem," I stated. "Today, Megan approached me and yelled about things that I have done in the past... Things WE have done in the past."
"Oh, I see," she replied with a concerned look on her face, fully understanding what I was trying to tell her. "Say no more, honey. I'll talk to her and see if I can straighten this out." She then gave me a reassuring smile, and made her way out the door before turning back and adding, "Don't worry any more about it. See you tomorrow!"
A few days passed without a word from Ms. Wescott. I saw Megan around as well, but she kept her distance. Between Jessica and I, we speculated that Ms. Wescott had made some unspeakable threat against her. Whatever happened, though, we felt that we were in the clear, but we were far too afraid to ask any questions about it.
Our questions, however, would soon be laid to rest.
One day, Ms. Wescott invited Jessica and I out to lunch during our break at work. "I spoke with Megan," she said to us as soon as we entered her car and started pulling out onto the road. These words sent shockwaves throughout my body. I composed myself, and replied, "Oh, really? What did she say?"
Ms. Wescott grinned from ear to ear. "She said that she thinks that you and Jessica were the ones responsible for uncovering her dirty little secret," she said.
My palms became sweaty. "And what did you tell her?" I asked nervously.
