Bordering on a dangerous obsession. Chapter 11
Fuuuuck what a long week.
Fatigue from the long hours of school and crimefighting, the stakeouts, it was all getting to me. I don't know how Dave did all of it AND a job to boot.
Me, I was cutting corners everywhere I could. The note from my Nazi-Doc got me out of gym class, and I used it to grab quick naps in the library instead. That and with me aiming to fade into the background meant I was wearing the fat-suit with extra baggy sweats, and I was planning on slowly settling to my new "medium" jeans to drive the point home. Mindy wasn't standing out, at least not physically. Intellectually maybe.
While Katie had been avoiding me, we did run into each other one time. Her eyes took me and the fat-suit in, the grey sweats I was wearing, and her eyes just slid off me. As the pretty and popular girl in her school, she was used to ignoring the dumpy and plainer folk, and I was firmly sitting in that camp now. She even let up on Dave for a few days, as if she was unable to come to grips that I was a threat to her, looking as I was.
Max in our online chats noted that it would only last until she got another look at Hit Girl from the photos.
As for 'practice', well, it was slow going. Thanks to the books and the cesspool that is the internet, I am now fairly confident I can get a dick in my mouth without drawing blood or scraping a layer of skin off. I haven't made much progress once it's in there though. The egg helped a bunch actually. Shoved just inside and set to low, it made passing the time bobbing up and down on the dong a bit more bearable.
Rereading that, had you said even a month ago that I, Mindy, would be spending my free time jabbing a rubber dick into my face, I'dve laughed at you before ripping your intestines out with a fork. Then set you on fire.
What a fucking world.
Side note. Thank FUCK for the motion sensors, that needs to be both bolded and underlined. I swear it saved me at least twice this week from being caught in horribly embarking situations. I simply would die of shame, but only after I murdered all witnesses and burnt the place to the ground. Then and only then would I die.
I was spending much of my free time in bed 'resting' before the nights out with Dave, and sometimes, with that egg thrumming away, I could get so lost in the practice. Marcus came to check on me once while I was half-naked on top of the covers sucking away. Since he came from his room across the hall it meant I only had a few precious seconds warning to jump under the covers, stuff the dildo under my pillow, and pretend to be sleeping.
Though in my hasty actions I had neglected the egg, which was left in me and still on, with the cord dangling from my cunt where I couldn't reach it under the covers. So there I was, 'sleeping', egg quietly buzzing, trying not to wriggle as Marcus watched me 'sleep' from the doorway with that sad look he sometimes got when he thought I wasn't looking.
Super. Fucking. Awkward.
I have no better words to describe it than that.
And it wasn't as bad as the other one. I will not be putting that on record EVER. All I will say is I'm glad Dave bought the 'it's perfume' line I managed to say.
Tomorrow we see the Mengele. This should be interesting.