Chapter 7: Come on Bailey!

I’m stupid. I mean you think I would be able to think stuff through like Lisbeth Salander or better yet Milady de Winter. I’d be cunning and see five steps ahead. I should have asked for more money. The shirt I wanted at Ross would definitely be perfect, but according to the website the price went up. Plus I really wanted some skinny jeans to go with it. I mean my good butt jeans are nice, but they are still loose on me, and if I was going to wear a blouse like that, it demanded a whole outfit. Plus shoes to top it off. I should have asked for at least a hundred.

I sat doodling different outfits in class, I wasn’t as talented as my brother, but I could doodle. As long as you weren’t on your smart phone, the teachers didn’t seem to mind doodling much at all. There was a general quiet rustling of papers, the buzzing of fluorescent lights, complaining drone of the air conditioning window unit. Our classroom was in a trailer while part of the school was getting renovations or repairs or something. They shoved poor Mr. Wainwright out here to teach us History in a rolling symbol of American decay. He wasn’t much to look at, mustache, balding, a little tubby in the belly and skinny elsewhere, half the time he wore glasses. He was going on about a matter of some importance that was probably going to be on the test. I usually paid more attention, not that I needed to, but more out of pity. He really genuinely seemed to want to help. He was the kind of guy who intervene if he saw a student in trouble, but otherwise, he’d let himself get steamrolled right into a trailer.

Not like Mr. Gadsten. He was the kind of guy who’d get into a bar fight and win. I smiled thinking about how ever since that little show I’d put on for him he’d been there every time I came home from a run. He probably had an alarm set to watch me.

I sighed and looked back at my doodles. I definitely wanted skinny jeans to go with the top and I knew exactly how to get it. Mr. F was willing to pony up some more dough. I stopped by with Mr. Gadsten at his request and even though it was just for a short call for a token dispenser, Mr F. brought me another one of those delicious guava mango thingies. He was definitely trying to butter me up. I hadn’t had the chance to give him a rental then, and I only got like 10 bucks for the night, but it was better than nothing. What would Milady de Winter do? I smirked, probably seduce Mr. Wainwright here and steal his money while convincing him it was Mr. F and then have them duel while she stole Mr. F’s money.

Well, I guess I should rent out that shirt again, but this time, definitely get $100. As long as I didn’t let him touch me it was fine. It’d be a lot easier if I could text him, but I didn’t have his cell number. I’d have to call Boomtown after school. The bell rang out, knocking me out of my reverie.

“Ms. Marsh, a word?”

I actually didn’t hear him the first time, but he repeated it again, harsher the second time. A few chuckles and ooh’s came from the peanut gallery of High Schoolers. He shoo’ed out the other students and kept me after. Jeez, it was hard enough to get back into the main building and to class on time without being held over. “What’s this about?”

“Bailey, have a seat,” he asked with a voice of defeat. Even still, I was getting nervous, he’d never kept me after class before.

“Uhm, am I in trouble?”

“No, oh no, I just wanted to talk with you a moment, a chat. How are you doing?”

“Fine...” I furrowed my brow a pinch.

“Anything troubling you at home?”

I slowly shook my head, a chill running down my back as sense memories of Brian’s fingers on my body flared through my mind.

“It’s okay to tell me if something’s ... out of whack.”

“No, sir, everything is great at home. My mom and dad work real hard and my brother is great, really great.”

There was a long pause. I could hear the seconds thumbing in my head. He’d better say something soon. It was his turn to talk, and I couldn’t stand the wait. He looked me over thoughtfully, then spoke, “I’ll tell you what this is about. I’ve noticed you have been ... preoccupied lately. And your last report was, it was good, but it wasn’t Bailey good.”

I felt a huge rush of relief, I couldn’t help but break out into smile, “Is that it?”

“Yes, but I don’t think-”

I laughed. I was worried that somehow he knew - if anyone would be psychic about something like this it’d be him, but nope, he just thought I wasn’t my usual superdork self. “Jeez, Mr. Wainwright, don’t freak me out like that. I thought you were going to say I had cancer or something.” I gathered my things and slung my bookbag over my shoulder. He kept making very reasonable very weak entreaties to my soul about whatever concerns he had and how there was help to be had, but his voice spoke more than words. It was weak, defeated, it was the words of a man who had no power to put behind them. I left with despair echoing around him in that trailer.

Addy was outside looking concerned. She’d actually waited for me, probably at the cost of getting in trouble herself. “What did he say?”

“A big nothing burger. Mr. Wainwright is just going straight pity HAM. LOL.” Yes, I said, lol. Judge me.

We hurried on to class giggling, while Mr. Wainwright watched from the window next to the AC unit.

After school, I said goodbye’s to B and A. We’d gossiped about Mr. W in class via texts, at least he’d given me a good story I could talk about. But I was more interested in having a story to keep to myself. WIth the girls gone, I got my phone and called Boomtown. They put me through to the ogre.

“Ah dear girl, so good to hear from you, what can I do you for?”

So clever. I rolled my eyes, but turned on the sweetness, “Mr. Fitzpatrick, hi, sir, I was wondering if maybe I could do some work for you tonight. Maybe cleaning some more arcade games?”

“I didn’t know John was coming by tonight. I didn’t ask him to come in.”

True, he wasn’t. I’d have to find a ride there, but that was fine, I was already walking to the bus station. “No, he’s not. It would just be me. That’s ok, right?”

“Hummm,” he seemed unsure. Why was he being so wishy washy? “Do you have the uniform on you?”

I shook my head like an idiot. “No,” I added, “but that’s fine right?” I was losing him. Suddenly nervous I added, “I thought, you know, maybe we could talk about rentals and stuff? Would that be okay?”

“Rentals ... humm, well, I tell you what, I think that could be an alright thing. Yes, I think that’ll be just fine. I did peg you as a smart girl.”

The bus fare was cheap, even if the time was less so. Still, I’d be able to do homework when I got home, and in the meantime, I’d make a quick $100 bucks. The arcade was much more vibrant with all the games turned on. It wasn’t as insane as the weekend, but there were a fair number of people here, including some kids from school. I guess I wasn’t the only one with the idea to come after school. I even saw a small crowd of students around the big dancing game. No one I knew though, which was fine by me.

Mr. Fitzpatrick took me back into his office after making a show of pointing out a couple machines that could use some cleaning. “Ah, so much better in here isn’t it? The walls almost cancel out the rickus out there.” I nodded with a smile as he continued, “So now you have me at your disposal girl, you have my attention, and I think you wanted to talk a bit more about business...”

This was what I had been working myself up to the whole bus ride over. I had to be like Milady, strong, sexy, and smart. I nodded and cocked my hips, “Yeah, you know, I was thinking,” actually the hip cocking was a little over the top, I shifted back and crossed my arms and leaned back on the filing cabinet, “It’s been a long time since you have rented a shirt.”

He smiled in smarmy amusement at my fidgeting. I was trying to be cool, but, well, I’m not cool. “It has been, hasn’t it.”

I bit my lip looking up with a shrug, “Well you know I have one here, you could rent it if you wanted to. Seems fair.”

“Alright, I think that could work,” he began.

“But this time, I think you should rent it for ten minutes. You know, that way you could really get to enjoy the shirt.”

“Really? Hmm,” he approved. Now to get the money.

“And it’d be only fair to make that one hundred dollars.”

He boomed out a laugh that shrunk my confidence, “Ah, I see,” it wasn’t a friendly laugh. It had a menace in it that I could see as his gaze fell back on me.

Suddenly nervous, I realized, I needed to get this done, “Do we have a deal?” I asked with a little too much eagerness.

“Hold your horses, missy, now I’ll tell you, I don’t mind shirts, but I don’t think a shirt alone is worth a hundred dollars.” He stood up and came around towards me. Instinctively my hands came up to cover me. His presence loomed over me and the Milady Winter in me had fled and I was suddenly tiny again as his giant hand took my shoulder. “What I would really want is to rent a nice pair of shorts to match that shirt.”

I nodded, “Okay.”

“And-,” he added, “I am going to take them off myself and touch whatever I want to in the process. That sounds like a fair deal for a hundred to me.”

That wasn’t really anywhere near fair. I mean sure it was a lot of money, but I was giving him way more this time than last. More time, more clothes, and less control. I should push back, I really should, but again I felt so small and it felt so much easier to go along, especially since that heady feeling was starting to tickle at me. He took my head dropping as consent and locked the door behind me.

“I bet you came straight here from school didn’t you?” His fingers were already tracing my collarbone as he stood behind me. “Bet none of your teachers could imagine what you’d be doing right now.” I could smell the grease and lanolin and feel the warmth of him emanating as he reached around and flattened my shirt over my boobs. “Oh, I bet a couple of them have imagined it. Any man surrounded by pretty, young nubiles with perky little tits is bound to fantasize.” As he was speaking, he flicked at my nips and they stiffened up in response. I moaned in complaint and he moved on. “Lift up your arms girly.”

“Even the nicest ones, especially the nicest sweetest teachers. Those are the men who go home every night and dream about your little bodies the most.”

I couldn’t help but think about Mr. Wainwright keeping me after class. Did he also think about me like this? Did he imagine me standing with an older man pulling my shirt off? That was kind of impossible to think of, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not like the man standing behind me caressing my bare back.

His hands reached around encircling my midsection, his fingers tickled at my sides. I tried to hold back a flinch, but my stomach still quivered. He undid my thin belt and popped open the front button. The sound of it felt loud in my head. My pants was pretty loose around my waist, so without the belt he could have easily slipped them down, but I think he enjoyed unbuttoning them. He pushed them past my hips and they dropped straight to the floor with a flop.

“Step out of them.” I obeyed. “Oh yes,” he groaned as he bent down to pick them up. It seemed like a big effort for a guy like him to bend all the way down, but when he managed to get back up, redfaced, he seemed very satisfied with his efforts. He smiled at me with a leer, “You are something special.”

I blushed and fidgeted. It felt weird standing there in front of him. He had this look on his face like he was about to jump all over me. “No more touching now, right?” I tried to admonish him, but it came out as a question.

“That’s right, that’s right. I’m a man of my word, too.” He walked back around his desk and sat back, sniffing my shorts once he sat down. Ew, I’d been sitting in that all day. His eyes stayed on my body, glazed over in lust. “See, that isn’t so bad now is it. It’s nice that we can be here, honest with each other. See, cause out there, all those teachers, they aren’t allowed to tell you how pretty you are. Even though every one of the men are thinking it, and even some of the women too. But here I can tell you straight, you have a beautiful body there. So lovely.”

I blushed at his compliment, but turned my head to the side, “No.”

He smiled, “So pretty and you don’t even know it. See that’s cause out there the world is full of liars. But you don’t have to trust me, I can prove it to you.” I quirked a brow at him.

He reached down to his crotch and my eyes fixated on it. His thing was definitely hard, straining on his pants to get out like a bag dog on a leash. He worked his belt, uh oh. This wasn’t on the schedule, but again, hypnotized, I stared as he pulled out his thing. This was the first time I’d ever seen one in person. It looked different than the ones I’d seen in Brian’s videos. This was kind of lean and straight like it was trying to escape, but his balls were big and the whole thing was harry and threatening to swallow it up.

“See, now this is honest,” he started massaging it like a man milking a cow slowly. It was so weird, I couldn’t look away from it. The top of it just looked so foreign to me. I found myself wondering what it would be like to touch it. “This is telling you that you’ve got a beautiful body and there’s no lying about that. I can see you like that.”

I nodded, except I wasn’t sure what I was nodding to.

“Have you ever seen one of these before?”

I slowly shook my head and he kept slowly milking it, “Well, take a good look, honey, it’s only fair, I mean this is your doing.”

I felt out of body as I walked to him in nothing but underwear and keds to stare at this cock that was hard for me. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like in my hands if I reached out and touched it. I kind of wanted to just to know. It was so weird because Mr. Fitzpatrick was gross and ugly, but I couldn’t look away. “Does it ... hurt when it gets, you know, or I mean, does it get trapped in your pants? Sometimes?”

He smiled as I fumbled for words, “It doesn’t hurt. Feels pretty good. Go on now, you can touch it if you like.” I stalled for a moment, stopping myself. Instead of reaching down like I’d been picturing in my mind, I looked at him in shock at how curious I was to actually touch it. He grinned, “You know you want to. Be honest with me, girly.”

I felt trapped, I felt compelled to be honest, but how could I be honest with him when I couldn’t even admit to myself that I wanted to. I was blushing crazy. I stammered before managing to spot the clock. It took a second but I realized we were here for twelve minutes already. “I - Time, I have to go.”

“Don’t go yet, honey, you’ve got to pick up your clothes,” he gave me a sly smile. My clothes were on the floor next to him. My heart hammered in my chest. All I could think of as I knelt to the floor was that he was going to cum on me, just like that girl in the video. But the strange thing is, I was kind of curious as to what it might feel like, too. I couldn’t let him know that, though. No way, I wasn’t ready to be that kind of honest. His pumping intensified into full out jacking off when I hit my knees. I picked them up one after the other, got back up and retreated back to my side of the room where I got dressed as fast as I could. If I was being honest, I really did want to see his stuff come out. I don’t know why but the thought of it, of that stuff, that sperm coming out gave me a thrill. I’d already stepped out of the room when I froze. I hadn’t even gotten the money. Crap crap crap crap! Lady de Winter my ass. I stopped the door before it closed and peeked back inside. The hallway to the manager’s office was darkened, but the noise from the gaming floor was much louder here. Inside was dead quiet when the door was closed. I looked in knowing what I was going to see, Mr. Fitzpatrick being vigorously honest with himself facing away from the door. I couldn’t see it directly, but I knew what he was doing. He was pulling his cock and thinking about me, it was hard because of me and my sexiness. I don’t know when my fingers reached my pussy, but I realized I was rubbing myself through my shorts and it felt oozy good. God, I hope nobody would catch me. The thought of being caught touching myself made me rub myself even faster. Mr. F reached up with his left hand and grabbed a cup, the way he moved in jerks and fits I guessed he was coming closer. It was a small plastic cup like - oh my god. As quietly as I could I closed the door. Oh my god, no way.

I covered my mouth in shock. That little plastic cup was just like the cups he’d been bringing out when he brought me my little “treat”. My thighs were already quivering in squishy goodness from my own manipulations as I thought about it. Those drinks, I was drinking his sperm. I walked out in a daze over to the game I was supposed to clean but I couldn’t think about anything else. Was that the slimy taste I’d noticed? He’d watched me dribble his stuff into my mouth and smack my lips together as his sperm was swimming around in my tummy. So wrong. It was so wrong, except, it was so hot, too. Was he going to do it again? Was I? Was I a cum drinking slut? Oh my god, I swear I felt my pussy just creamed at the thought of it. I worked my thighs back and forth revelling in the delicious pleasure of it. Woah, I had to get my mind off of this.

Except I turned around and saw Mr. Fitzpatrick coming to me with a cup in hand. The same cup as before.

“There you are, you know you forgot something,” he admonished me, “You forgot your treat.”

He handed me the cup, and beneath it I saw a hundred dollar bill folder up and hidden from casual view. I took the cup and thanked him with a sweet smile. The hundred went to my pocket and he waited as I held the drink. “Go on now, have a taste.”

Oh god, there was no doubt. He’d cum into this cup and now he wanted to watch me drink it up. I couldn’t let him know I was on to him. I guessed I didn’t have a choice. I raised it to my lips and took a gulp. There wasn’t much juice in it as last time, so I got down to the bottom pretty quick.

“That is your favorite treat now isn’t it girly.”

I nodded with a smile. A glob of his stuff was down at the bottom mixed with juice. He watched me with a smile as I tipped it up just like last time, except this time it wasn’t as mixed up, so I got a glop of it that came down at once. Oh god, I just dropped a glob of cum into my mouth while he watched. I put on a smile, the same smile I wore every other time he’d fed me his cum. That time I could taste it was different, I could taste a bit of salty. It took a little work, but I swallowed it down and he went off with a big old smile.

You tricky bastard, I thought.

I didn’t stick around to do any actual work. Frankly, I needed to change my underwear after working myself up. After getting home, I saw mom at the kitchen table stressing out over bills. She looked fragile.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

She looked up at me with puffy eyes, “Oh yes, I’m fine, just doing the finances,” she offered a smile, then paused. “Just getting home from school, where were you?”

Crap, my backpack. I ran through a bunch of lies but she could bust me on most of them. I slumped my shoulders and settled on honesty. At least a version she could accept, “I got a side gig cleaning machines at the arcade. I promise, my grades aren’t going to suffer, I know you said you wanted me to focus on school, but Brian has gigs, so I thought that I could to.” Her eyes seemed even more sad, and her smile was a flit away from cracking. “I thought that -I thought, you know, like, maybe I could help.” I felt so bad, I could see the was tortured. The bills were killing her. I reached my hand to my pocket feeling the hundred dollar bill that sat there.

“Oh, honey, no, whatever you make, you earn for yourself,” she stopped my hand in my pocket. In a flash she got up and hugged me close, “Oh, my baby girl, my bright shining star.” She held me for a long time and I held her back. I think she needed it. She sniffled when she came back out. “Now, do you worry about all this. This is mama and papa kind of stuff to figure out. You just work on your schoolwork okay?”

I nodded.

“Promise me you won’t worry about all this?”

I nodded again, “Promise.”

I got to my room and closed the door. Wow, mom was a wreck, Dad was hardly around, we didn’t have any money, Brian was out with Drew, probably getting into some trouble and their one shining hope was me. Me, Bailey Marsh, the cum drinking princess. God, we really were a complete mess of a family. I stewed in the total white trashness of my existence until I couldn’t bear it anymore. Maybe it was the anxiety of it, or maybe it was the cum I’d been drinking, but I my stomach was twisting in knots. I guess I hadn’t eaten either, but I didn’t want to go downstairs. I got up and went to mom’s bathroom to look for pepto or tums. She was still downstairs, so I just rummaged through the medicine cabinet when I saw a prescription bottle. Curious, I read it long enough to realize it was sleeping pills. That’s why mom conks out at night! Jeebus. I opened the bottle to see a pile of small white nondescript pills.

It was just sleeping pills, it should have meant nothing to me, except that I thought back to the couch. If I’d taken sleeping pills who knows what Brian might have done to me, I thought with a mix of fear and excitement. But no, I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to get so sleepy and droopy and totally helpless as Brian caressed me all over, his eyes roaming all over my body. I shivered swirls in my tummy. Oh god, could you imagine what Mr. F would have done to me if his treat’s had sleeping pills instead of cum.