Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two
Chapter Eight: Junk mail
Kelly did not have a good day at school. Embarrassed by her tits, confused by her constant arousal, lack of focus, and the memory of shamefully orgasming to her parents’ fucking, she found it even more difficult to focus on paying attention in class. She tried to follow Ms. Gloria’s advice, though, and when she was occasionally teased by another student about her blatant lack of a bra, she countered it with quips, such as, “I know, right? Aren’t they great?” while she jiggled her funbags.
Ms. Gloria was right. By identifying herself by her tits, the novelty of teasing her about them quickly faded, and was instead replaced by an odd kind of respect from the other girls and lusty looks from the boys. This made her further aroused, confused, and began to convince Kelly’s addled brain that her identity was, indeed, her large, braless melons.
The latest problem, though, came from an unexpected source. Unbeknownst to Kelly, her father had signed her up to receive newsletters in her email from a large number of very hardcore porno websites. These began to flood her inbox on her phone throughout the day. Though she couldn’t look at her phone during class, each passing period and during her lunch hour, she was confronted by a high volume of filthy images from every perverted niche on the internet. The deluge of emails prompted her to Click Here! and contained links to all manner of filthy images and videos.
-Dirty girls being good for daddy!
-Lusty lesbian sex dolls!
-Rape play, as real as it gets!
-Fantastic family fuckery!
-The family cum toilet!
-Dominated by my great dane!
-Daddy’s little butt slut!
-Earning my allowance with my tight teen holes!
-Born to breed!
-Mommy’s submissive cunt slut!
-My ass belongs to daddy!
On and on the emails went, frustrating, teasing, but each time she deleted one, another would appear seconds later. By lunch time, Kelly had stopped trying to delete them. There were too many. Still, each time she swiped open the phone, the headlines of the emails would stick in her brain, accompanying the constant arousal fog, and after lunch, she couldn’t take anymore.
She went to the bathroom, the one at the end of the athletic wing, where few people ever came, and she masturbated. She did it while she clicked one of the porno images, the subject line reading, “Daughter’s Daily Feeding,” in which a photo album showed a happy, horny teen on her knees, gratefully swallowing a load of semen from her “father”. She sobbed with confusion, looking at the dirty pictures, the filthy words from the night before playing in her head, “Good girl. You love daddy’s cock, princess…”
“I’m just not good at anything,” Kelly whined to Ms. Gloria that evening, sitting at the table with a chemistry worksheet in front of her.
The stupid little symbols for the elements just didn’t make sense. What difference did it make if she knew what Bromium was, or why she shouldn’t mix acids and bases? Her mother didn’t know about Bromium, and her mother got to do whatever she wanted. All her mother had to do was spread her legs and let her dad fuck his cock into her.
Her mother was a stupid slut, and Kelly was a stupid slut with a wet pussy, because she’d gotten it from her mother. Ms. Gloria was right. Ms. Gloria wasn’t a stupid slut. Kelly thought that her mother should be called Cockwallet, because that’s what she was. Kelly was very angry, confused and horny.
“Don’t say that,” Ms. Gloria said, “Everyone is good at something. Nothing comes easy, sweetie. We all have to work at what we’re good at.”
“My mom doesn’t have to work at anything,” Kelly said, focused on her anger toward her mother for giving her a wet pussy that always seemed to want to cum.
“That’s not true,” Ms. Gloria said, “Your mother has to work hard at being a good wife. It might seem like it’s an easy thing to do, but as you get older, it’s hard to keep looking good. When you’re married, too, it gets difficult to keep things fresh and interesting for your husband. There are choices we have in life, Kelly. We can choose to put effort into ourselves, to develop and learn, so that we’re independent and able to provide ourselves with the things we want. We can, also, choose to cultivate habits and traits that make us more desirable to other people, so that we can work at keeping them happy in exchange for the things we need. For example, we all need love, and we need support. We need a place to live, food to eat, all the basic stuff that keeps us alive. That’s how economics works. People trade the goods or services they have to others, in exchange for other goods or services that they can provide. There’s nothing wrong, at all, with those goods or services being the ones you’re naturally born with.”
“Like…” Kelly lowered her voice, “Like what you said, yesterday? About my… assets?”
Ms. Gloria nodded, “Like that. There is nothing wrong with being cute and desirable. It’s just a choice you make. If you want to trade your physical assets for the things you need, that’s perfectly acceptable. Look at all the girls that go into adult movies or make websites to show off their bodies. People give them money, because that’s a commodity that they’re willing to pay for. Now, I’m not suggesting that you go and do porno movies, of course. I’m just using that as an example, so that you see that everyone makes a choice, and everyone has something to offer.”
“Ms. Gloria,” Kelly asked, “Do you think I’m pretty? Desirable?”
“You’re very pretty, Kelly. Now, what do you say we get back to this assignment?”