Bully

There was a silence on the other end of the line.

"...Mom?...Mom!"

"...Regan, if you're serious, then this is serious. You have to go to the principal."

Sigh. "Mom, he's not gonna do anything! And besides, if she finds out I told on her, who knows how much worse this could get!"

"Regan, how much worse could it get now? Sweetheart, you have to promise me you'll go see Mr. Garver. Right now. Go."

"...Fine," Regan acquiesced, figuring her Mom must've known she cut class to call her. And this adamant advice made sense. As long as she was already not in class, and right now when no one would see her, it was kind of the ideal time. She did as Lorraine said.

Back at home, Lorraine had been cyber-networking. She was putting together a new, particularly...eventful event, at which she herself would not be in attendance, but which would serve a number of purposes. It would require participation from several fellow community leaders and members, and be quite the little enterprise...and now she had to get on it.

In the pause Regan had heard on the phone, Lorraine felt herself seethe inside at the obnoxity of this little snake Mikayla, this slime ball, this...no. No. This was beyond obnoxious. This crossed a new line. She'd gone too far now. Lorraine would not stand for it, and there was no way she was letting her get away with it. Regan may have been right about the principal not really taking action, but she hoped at least she'd gone to speak to him, as she'd told her. Maybe Al Garver couldn't do anything about it.

...But Lorraine Knowles could.

*****

Trousers And Funds...

Sunday, November 10th, 2013, 5:32 p.m.

Regan took advantage of her principal visit, making way to her next class just before it started so she wouldn't run into anyone in the halls. The talk with Mr. Garver turned out about as she'd expected, not extremely fruitful. But she did feel better having followed through. At least now he was aware. And maybe it wasn't just her word; maybe others had complained about Mikayla too.

The other peril to befall her on this particular Friday happened at lunch. Surprisingly enough, with all the things Mikayla'd done to this point, she'd never really stolen Regan's lunch money. But this didn't mean she was automatically off the bully hook. Today the two-time senior waited for the one-time junior to come from the lunch line with her tray, grabbed hold of her pants hem at the sides, yanked—not down but up—and wedgied her. But she wasn't done. To the entertainment of their fellow students, Mikayla then dragged her to the wall, where stood one of the garbage cans, swiftly and forcefully positioned Regan in front of it, and deposited her butt in. Some were more amused than others, but most of them got a kick out of it. Mikayla turned to them and took a bow.

At least she made it to her car Friday afternoon and got home without another scratch. She and Mom had a more or less usual Friday night leading into a three-day weekend, sharing a pizza for supper and more TV. What Regan was not privy to was the special project Lorraine worked on the rest of Friday night, and all of Saturday. It took a lot of well-placed phone calls and negotiating. But to Lorraine's pride and genius, she got it all thrown together and planned out for Sunday night. She was quite skilled at this kind of thing, but fortune was on her side as well. And then there was the entire reason—well, one big reason—to pull it off in the first place.

And so the event was on. At 6:00 p.m. Sunday, November 10th, a huge parent-teacher fundraiser was scheduled at the Juniper multipurpose and rec center, just a mile or two south of Minneapolis. As Lorraine explained to everyone on the phone, it was for the parents and teachers—no students—and though some found it odd Lorraine wouldn't be there herself, she assured them she'd be in spirit, keeping things going from the background, as it were. The fundraiser was also scheduled—by design—to go on for several hours. This worked out well as tomorrow was Veterans Day, so Juniper's public schools and most businesses would be closed. Lorraine had them cook up a raffle, and get some reps from Denmore College to attend, for possible scholarship opportunities. Naturally, every parent could hardly resist. Including the two Lorraine phoned on Friday and Saturday to specifically convince...

Mr. and Mrs. Andrew and Kim Wagner.

There was no need to lie to her daughter about going to the fundraiser; Lorraine merely told Regan she was on her own for the night. Lorraine, of course, had a different destination for herself. That destination was 654 Johnston Farm Drive. She arrived just a bit before 5:00, nestled the car in a semi-secluded spot across the street, set her sights on the house, and waited. She didn't know when they'd be leaving, so she figured she'd better give herself plenty of time. Half an hour later, her peeled eyes took in the sight they wanted. A semi-formally dolled Kim and Andrew Wagner exited. Lorraine watched them climb in the car, start up, drive off, and head towards Minneapolis. They left her line of sight. Lorraine took a deep breath. Okay, here goes...she'd better be there.

She vacated her own vehicle, hefted out the large, cumbersome bag from the trunk, and lugged it up to the front door. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she removed the first item.

Knock-knock-knock!

Sitting just inside staring at the tube, Mikayla heard the knock, threw a glance, and tossed down the remote. When she unlocked and opened the door, she found herself face-to-face with an older woman who almost looked a little familiar...but she couldn't say from where. She gazed intently at her. Her hands were behind her back. As for Lorraine, she needed mere confirmation of Mikayla's face. It was her all right. She recognized the piercings in her ears, right eyebrow and bottom lip. Lorraine asked out of formality.

"Mikayla Wagner?..."

There was something about the way the woman said her name Mikayla didn't like. She crossed her arms.

"...Who wants to know?"

Lorraine whipped her hands from behind her back, letting the girl note just for a moment what she held in the right one.

"Your worst nightmare does."

With that, she activated the stun gun, and connected in one fluid motion. Next thing Mikayla knew, everything went red and black.

*****

...And Hell (Oh My!)

Sunday, November 10th, 2013, 6:11 p.m.

While Lorraine did not love using a stun gun to incapacitate someone—not even an asshole who made it her mission in life to terrorize her daughter—she needed a quick, easy and relatively harmless method of knocking her out. She was neither crazy about letting herself into the Wagners' home uninvited, nor letting Mikayla's parents go to the fundraiser thinking everything was fine at home. However, their daughter needed to learn a harsh lesson. And tonight...Mrs. Lorraine Knowles was the teacher.

She dragged her heavy bag inside, shut the door, found the remote control, turned the TV off, and got to business. The stun would shut Mikayla down and put her to sleep for about half an hour. So Lorraine started by undressing her. Top, jeans, bra, panties. There were all her colorful tattoos, some of them in "naughty" spots. Now, thought Lorraine, looking around, she needed something to restrain her to. Preferably up in or near the ceiling, something high enough to...

Oh, look at that! How convenient! A nice steel ceiling hook...hanging...thingy! With a wind chime on it. Well, thank you, Kim and Andrew! You won't mind if I take that wind chime off there and replace it with your daughter for a while, of course!

Mikayla, Lorraine noted, was indeed a big girl—5'8", to be precise—as tall as she herself was. But the first-floor ceiling of her folks' house was an accommodating nine feet high. Though Lorraine couldn't measure it exactly, she figured this would work fine. She wanted something to which she could truss Mikayla, and be able to circumnavigate and "access" her on all sides. So first, she removed two bath towels and unfurled them flat under the hook for a protective square. Then she dragged the now totally naked girl beneath the spot in the ceiling this hook hanger called home, laid her down, and adjourned to her bag.

Now she needed the spool of twine and scissors. Taking Mikayla's hands over her head, Lorraine bound her wrists together, quietly took the wind chime, placed it on the sofa, brought the other end of the twine up to thread in the hook, snaked and snaked and snaked it through, and snipped it off at a length that would do for now.

Next to immobilize would be her feet. She'd fetched a pair of two-foot-long hollowed-out metal bars from her husband's workshop which she'd be putting to use as spreaders. She thought of Stephen, and knew he'd wholeheartedly approve of the "lesson" she was about to teach. Hell, he loved Regan just as much if not more than she did. If he wasn't away, he'd probably be here helping her.

She fed the twine through the bars, and tied Mikayla's ankles to either end. This brought her to the tougher part. She pulled on the twine through the ceiling hook, tugging and hoisting Mikayla up bit by bit. When she'd gotten her high enough, she collected Mikayla around the middle, took a deep breath, whispered, "UPsy-daisy..." and lifted her to her feet. Mikayla remained unconscious, but Lorraine knew it was just a matter of moments now. With the girl standing (more or less) upright, Lorraine straightened out the twine to give Mikayla's arms a nice no slack whatsoever, re-snipped it and tied it off.

"Whew!" Now just about all of her work work was done. The next she retrieved out of her bag was the long red strip of cloth she slipped over Mikayla's eyes and tied behind her head. Finally, she crouched between Mikayla's feet, and adjusted them so they stood flat and flush on the floor. Then, she stepped back to admire the result.

"Hee hee hee..." she lowly chuckled. "I may not have met you before this moment, Mikayla, but you've never looked better to me."

It went all but without saying that the cautious conscience-like voice inside her was going ballistic. What are you doing??! it screamed. This is insane!! Do you realize how dangerous this could be?! The intensity of fire we're playing with here?! If someone caught us right now, we'd be ruined! Forget being drummed out of the community; we'd be behind bars!

This did bother her, she had to admit. To put this part of her mind at ease, she dug out her cell and called the Wagners.

"...Kim! Hi! Lorraine Knowles!...Ye—thank you, good to hear yours too!...Oh, yeah, I'm really sorry I was unable to be there tonight. But since I'm not, I just wanted to check in with you and see how you're getting along?...Uh-huh?...Oh, wonderful! Did you get your raffle tickets yet?...Oh, absolutely! By all means! Yes, get those tickets, and of course mingle with as many folks as possible! I want you to have a good shot at those scholarships!" HA! Yeah, right. "Remember, the longer you stay, the more you can accomplish!...Oh, naturally!...Aw, you're welcome...yeah—okay, you go get 'em now!...Right!...Okay. Love to Andrew. Bye."

Click. Lorraine hung up and reapproached the still unconscious strung-up Mikayla.

"That was your Mom-my..." she told her patronizingly, as if the eighteen-year-old were three. "She says they're having a lovely time at the fundraiser I sent them off to so we could be alone tonight. Isn't that nice?"

Unsurprisingly, the still anesthetized Mikayla did not answer. But it was time for her to wake up. Back went Lorraine into her bag of tricks, and produced a spray bottle filled with soapy water.

"Wakey wakey, little snake-y..." Squirt-squirt-squirt-squirt.

Mikayla reflexively twitched as she came to. Feeling something lightly splash her face, she tried to wipe it away. But found herself unable to do so. A further evaluation of her situation revealed that she could neither move, nor see a thing. She panicked.

"...Wh—...what th—...hey, wh—...d—...FUCK!...What the...fuckin' fuck!!"

"That's some salty language, my dear," she heard.

"Wh—...what—who the fuck're you?! What'd you do to me?!"

"Those are excellent questions. And they're really two different questions. So, I'll answer them one at a time. First of all, as I am an adult, and you...are a five-year high school student...at least five years so far, that is..."

Struggling against the twine, Mikayla felt embarrassment drip over her.

"...You may address me as Mrs. Knowles."

Again, just as when she'd opened the door to see her face, that last name sounded only vaguely familiar. Lorraine saw that she needed an additional clue. She sauntered in on her.

"I believe you've met and had a number of interactions with my daughter, Regan...or as I believe you like to refer to her..."

She abruptly clutched Mikayla's chin, commanding her undivided attention.

"...'Dyke'? ...Or more colorfully, 'girl-fag dyke'?"

Mikayla's blood suddenly froze with fear, as if being locked in a giant block of ice. But she refused to give the woman the satisfaction.

"...Ehr?...Sho wha?"

Lorraine let go of her chin. "Well now, you see, that brings us to your second question: what did I do to you. First of all, I arranged the fundraiser for tonight, so that your parents would go, and you and I could spend this lovely evening together."

Mikayla went on struggling, not putting it together in her head just yet.

"Now, I realize you're not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, so I'll go on."

"What?! D—"

Lorraine placed a hand over her mouth. "Oh, you hush. Now, your parents'll be out for the remainder of the night, my foolish young friend. And while they are futilely attempting to vie for your academic 'future'...you have currently been enjoying three days free from school. But not anymore, Mikayla. You're in my classroom now. And I'm gonna teach you one helluva harsh lesson.

"...And I am a tough 'teacher.'"

Mikayla kept struggling. "...So, fuckin' what? This s'posed to scare me? I ain't scared of you, bitch."

"Hm!" Lorraine returned to her bag and dragged it over to where they stood.

"You're even less smart than I thought. No wonder you failed last year."

Mikayla tried still to act unintimidated, but it was getting hard. She didn't like this. How did this woman know this stuff about her?

"Now!" Mrs. Knowles clapped her hands. "Since you're naked, let's play dress-up. Not too much, of course; just a little accessory..."

I'm "What??!"

"But yes. You didn't realize? Here." Lorraine pinched her left nipple. "See?"

"OWWWW! Owwch! You bitch! That hurt!"

"Oh-ho-ho..." Lorraine chuckled. "If you thought that hurt, you've got a long night ahead of you, young lady."

"Lemme the fuck outta this, you old cunt! Fuckin' now!"

"No, no no...that won't do. If you're big enough to make someone else's life a living hell, you're big enough to pay for it."

Young Miss Mikayla Wagner was about to discover a side of Lorraine Knowles that her daughter didn't know existed. And that the members of her communities certainly weren't privy to. An unusual side. An exceptional side.

A dark... sinister... twisted... kinky side. Into the bag she went once more...

And out came the banded nipple clips.

"Now. Let's start with these beauties. They're a little painful too. But if you be good and hold still, they won't hurt as much."

She knew there was no way Mikayla'd be able to stand still through this, and she loved that she was right. She attached the first clip to the girl's right nipple. Mikayla freaked out. She yelled and cursed so loud, Lorraine cringed. She clamped her paw back over Mikayla's trap and forced on the other clip. Mikayla jumped and screamed again, trying to bite Lorraine's hand.

"OH, SIMMER DOWN," Lorraine shouted over her, giving her cheek a series of light baps. "It's only gonna get worse."

"Oh my fuckin' god!" snarled Mikayla. "You sick dyke! You're both dykes! You're insane, fuckin' bitch!"

"A'right," Lorraine went back into the bag. "Have it your way. I didn't wanna have to use this, but you asked for it."

She pulled out a ball gag and made it live up to its name.

"Hey! Hnnmmmmfff!"

"There!" said Lorraine. "You see? If you wanna behave like a pig, you're gonna get treated like one."

Mikayla tried as hard as she could to bite through the gag, but just as she knew it wouldn't be, Lorraine was not fazed in the least.

"Go ahead, kiddo. Do your worst. You'll chip a tooth before you break that sucker."

She waited out Mikayla's little dental tantrum on the ball gag, till the girl inevitably gave up and had to catch her breath.

"Now then! Let's get down to business." Mrs. Knowles marched in till Mikayla could feel her breath. Her voice lowered to a murmur.

"So. You like terrorizing folks' daughters, and kids smaller than you, hmm?"

Mikayla refused still to let the impudent woman know she was shaking inside, though she suspected she couldn't hide it much longer. She could already feel goosebumps creeping up her skin. Mrs. Knowles' voice rose.

"You like calling them faggots and dykes?"

The girl let her head droop, staring—were she allowed to stare—at the floor. She groaned and grumbled lowly through the gag.

"Well, I don't like that sort of behavior," Lorraine informed her, raising her chin to look her in the face. "Not one bit, in fact."

She watched the girl's face crease in apprehension, as she again gripped her under the chin with one hand...

"You wanna pick on someone?...Huh?..."

...And smacked the side of Mikayla's left breast with the other. The girl muffledly growled in pain.

"...Why don'tcha try me?"

Her right titty received a harder, more severe smack.

"AAOWWWRRR! FUHHHHHR!"

Lorraine next dealt a series of slaps across the face, back and forth. These didn't so much hurt, but served more to make her point.

"'Fuck' is right, you little rat. You see what happens when you bully someone smaller?..."

She picked the spray bottle back up, rotated the nozzle, and presented Mikayla several sudsy squirts to the face. Just to annoy her.

"Pluhhhhr! Hwahwih!" she exclaimed, yelling at Mrs. Knowles to stop it. Lorraine rotated the nozzle back to spray mode and spritzed down Mikayla's front, from her neck and torso, to her tits, belly, pussy and legs. She slipped behind her subsequently and gave her back side an equal treatment. She then returned to her front, put down the bottle, and readdressed her.

"...Someone bigger bullies you." She placed a hand on Mikayla's sternum and shoved her.

"Hmm? Huh? Huh??..." She fed the girl a taste of her own medicine. A smack to the head, a finger flick on the nose, a tug on her face piercings, a handful of her own spit in the face and hair, a (slightly pulled) punch to her belly. "Doesn't feel so great now, does it?"

She stopped. Mikayla hung her head. So this was how it felt. So she'd found her way to the business end. It did not feel good.

"So what'cha think, Mikayla? Think you're ready to take that ball gag out? Hm? Think you can behave yourself?"