Two DiariesChapter 13: Behind The Scenes free porn video

From Fiona’s diary:

It was so hard to sleep knowing my Mandy was alone in hostile territory. After she’d shown me that diary entry--and I knew how much courage it must have taken--I no longer thought her parents were completely stupid. Her cousins were more devious than I had given them credit for, setting up that dynamic where anything she said or did could be attributed to her disruptive attempts to get attention.

By so doing, they had transformed her own protectors, the people whom she was entitled to expect unconditional love and support from, into her captors. They kept her unbearably constrained, hoping that strict rules would discipline her wildness, as they’d have it. Without knowing it, they were acting as her enemies, helping her cousins increase their control and reduce her agency to its bare minimum. At least she had found mathematics to sustain her through it all, and now she had me, too.

She’d ended up subject to limits appropriate for a much younger girl, and they kept adding duties as she grew up. By now she had the skills to run an independent household, and the initiative of a small child. Her submissive nature pushed her to obey without complaint, seeking their approval, so they didn’t realise how much they were stifling her. She might want to please and serve others, but she needed the autonomy to do it her way. If only Mother hadn’t meddled, she’d be lying in bed with me, and I would have been cuddling her into sleep.

Of course, lying in bed with her, having to measure my every touch to make sure not to hurt her, had been awful, but missing her, wondering if she was awake or asleep, happy or sad, content or crying, was a lot worse. I wasn’t supposed to get so attached to my girls, but Amanda had broken the mould.

I woke up with those thoughts after a night full of tossing and turning. I got ready for school, and joined my parents at breakfast. Father poured tea for me.

“Good morning, Mum”, I said. “Thank you so much for everything.”

“You’re welcome. It was the least I could do to help. I understand how hard that must have been.”

I doubted it. I sipped some tea and hissed. Too hot. While it cooled, I buttered some toast and began to eat.

“Does he know everything?” I said.

“I’ve been informed”, said Father. “I regret you both had to go through that.”

“Well, you were right about her”, I said. “Thanks for helping me see the logic. I don’t even want to think what would have happened if--”

“Don’t”, said Mother. “It didn’t, and that’s what counts. Don’t fret about ifs.”

Father nodded, acknowledging my thanks, mother’s point, or more likely both.

“It was so close, though”, I said. I took some tea to break the tension. “Anyway, what did you both talk about yesterday?”

“I’m afraid it’s privileged”, she said. “Client confidentiality.”

I sighed, suddenly understanding that dollar. It came as an annoying surprise, considering I had been hoping to ask Mother for advice on Amanda, but as things were, she might have a pretty big conflict of interest. I ate some, trying to work out the angles.

“I wish you’d let me keep her here”, I said, unready to discuss the other issue.

“It wasn’t my decision to make, nor yours”, she said.

“What’s this about?” said Father.

“Fiona wanted Amanda to stay and live with us”, she said. Father seemed surprised.

“So what’s the problem?” he said. “If Fiona wants her here, surely we can afford one more mouth.”

“The problem, as my socially clueless husband and my stubborn daughter--who lacks even that excuse--don’t seem to want to confront, is that Amanda is effectively a dependent”, she said. “Sure she’s an adult at law, but her parents wouldn’t give her up without making a tremendous fuss. In my judgement, having to confront and possibly lose them is the last thing she needs at the moment, and the reputational damage we would suffer would be ... significant. People thinking of Fiona as some sort of lesbian temptress who corrupted and stole a naive, innocent girl from her parents wouldn’t do us any good in this town.”

“It would be worth it if it’s what she wants”, said Father. “We don’t depend on local opinion that much.”

Mother sighed, and set aside her food for a moment.

“Am I the only one here who remembers Amanda is a person of her own?” she said. “Our daughter may want her around, but she’s not a new toy or a little kitten for us to get her.”

“I’m not thinking of her that way”, I said. Well, maybe a little. “I see what you’re saying, but--”

“But nothing”, she said. “Moreover, her being a dependent means she’s not used to the type of autonomy she would have here, and I suspect she wouldn’t manage that transition very well under stress.”

“I would take care--” I said.

“And in any event, for the last time, I did not make the choice. It was Amanda herself who wanted to go back.”

“Don’t interrupt me”, I said.

“Don’t be such a child, then”, she said. “I understand you miss her, but I’m not going to take this self-indulgent nonsense. You know better than that. Be patient. One day she’ll be able to meaningfully make this decision, but not today.”

Father looked at us, hurt. He hated it when we argued. This time, Mother was right, though. How could I complain about Amanda’s parents not respecting her agency and fail to do so myself? In the future, perhaps, she would willingly offer herself to me, and then it would be my enormous responsibility and joy to control her, mindful of the balance between her desire to submit and her need to act independently. Amanda was intelligent and dutiful. she’d want to fully immerse herself in her servitude, actively finding ways to delight and please, not just passively wait for orders. At least that was the way she came across to me. That was, if she ever decided to be mine that way. I thought she wanted it, but she was probably conflicted about it.

“Alright”, I said. “Peace, Mother. I just hate the thought of her parents making her smaller, not knowing who she really is.”

“They’re not involved in the abuse, right?” said Mother.

“No”, I said. “They’re just ... clueless.”

“Well, and that’s no crime”, said Father.

“It should be”, I said, making them both laugh. “Anyway, I hope I got through to them yesterday. I was hoping you would advise me on how fast to go with her, Mum. After something like this, I want to be straight with her. I feel I should stop playing games and lay all the cards on the table.” I realised I was running out of time to get to school and finished my food as fast as I could.

“It’s hard to judge”, she said. “Bearing in mind I cannot be too specific, let her regain her footing, if you can. I know I only last week told you to let her know what she means to you, but you must realise circumstances are different now. She’ll find it very hard to refuse you anything after what you did for her, but that may lead to regrets and resentment later on, if she thinks you took advantage. That said ... always better to tell her how you feel than to let her think she doesn’t matter, or that she’s unworthy. It’s a recurrent pattern for her, but you know that already.”

I did, all too well. I’d do my best to not be pushy, but I had no intention to let her fall into despair. I had almost failed her that way once, and Amanda deserved better.

As soon as I got to school, I looked for Amanda, and was happy to see her with Sylvia. She was making other friends, and wouldn’t be completely dependent on my set. I didn’t mind her relying on me, but I wanted her to learn to handle herself in social situations. If we ended up together, she would have to.

I greeted Sylvia and Amanda, and I ran my hand over her back to check her reaction. She seemed to be doing a lot better, and it took a load off my mind. Mother had told me she would recover, but it was good to see it for myself.

She asked me about going to the phone shop, and I suspected she needed some money. I recalled she hadn’t been able to get anything for herself when I took her shopping. I didn’t mind helping her out. She didn’t ask for much, and I knew from experience she was grateful, and didn’t take me for granted.

Kira joined us, and gave me a cheeky smile. I blushed, remembering that night. Amanda went to her class, and as Sylvia was about to leave I grabbed her by the shoulder, wanting a few words. She looked at me, more nervous than she should have been.

“Uh, yes?” she said. She looked uncomfortable, as if she were hiding something.

“Anything you care to tell me, Syl?”

“I promised not to”, she said.

“Did you, now? To whom?”

“I’m not supposed to say that, either”, she tried to break my hold, but I wasn’t having any of that. “You wouldn’t make me break my word, right?”

“As it happens, I’d no idea you were hiding something. I was going to ask you about the drawings I requested. Will they be ready soon?”

“Oh, those?” she said, flustered. “Uh, yeah, soon.”

“A more definite time frame, if you please.”

“Tomorrow?” she squeaked. “Please, let me go, I need to be in class now?”

Kira tapped her watch, and I let Sylvia go. We got a fair amount of latitude from teachers, but we needed to be going, too. I was looking forward to seeing what she would come up with. I knew she was good, being familiar with her style, and the source material she had to work from was excellent. Of course, showing it all to my little Mandy and watching her reactions would be even better. I briefly wondered what she might have been hiding, but at least I was forewarned.

It was a pity I didn’t share any classes with Amanda. Of course we both did maths, but we had it in different slots. I was more interested in history and economics, while she took science. It would have been fun to do group work with her, though it might also prove distracting.

On the break, I walked together with my clique. I was starting to get worried about it. Kira kept subtly teasing me. I had been hers for a night, and she didn’t seem to want to let me forget it. It was something no-one else had managed, and I had to find a way to turn the tables on her, or my implicit position as first among equals might not last. The confidence boost from having a live-in slave she could legitimately use and punish made her a lot more brazen, thinking she had a certain advantage on me.

Megan noticed something, and kept trying to work out what was going on. If she ever suspected she could split us, she might support Kira rather than me. It had been me who’d curbed her in the past, while Kira stood aside or encouraged her. Kira’s rule would be less kind and more capricious than my own. She wasn’t a bad person as such, but she had little patience for those she saw as weaklings. In her mind, if she could get over having an abusive father and living on the edge of poverty, others had no excuses. If they kept lying down on the floor like doormats, she wouldn’t bother going out of her way not to tread on them, much less stop others from doing so. The sheer amusement of seeing people in discomfort could get the better of her, too.

Still, Kira might enjoy punishing those who deserved it, and putting people in their place, but she wasn’t cruel to those who didn’t bother her, or provoke her by showing their vulnerability. She was kind to most, and could even be protective of those willing to bow to her. If our clique broke up altogether, though, others much worse than her could take our place. I remembered how things were when I started in this school: a few boys and girls swaggering through the corridors as everyone else cowered. Meeker students were humiliated so routinely teachers didn’t bother intervening unless the situation got physically dangerous. Those in the middle of the hierarchy were forced to participate in tormenting those beneath them, or face the risk of joining them as victims. Even the popular girls got hassled by boys, and lesbians like me kept it quiet or were constantly attacked.

It had been a terrible place, and I’d almost made the choice to study somewhere else. In the end, it was only the challenge of taking it over and reforming it that made me stick with it, and I had learned as much about politics and manipulation while doing that as I had from formal classes, history books, and Mother’s teaching all together. The cost of it all was I had to use myself as ruthlessly as anyone else. My greetings, gestures and invitations became a matter of tactics; my friendships and their handling a matter of strategy. If I could have chosen freely, Kira would have still been my friend, but I’d have been very close to many of the nerds. Megan, Eve and many others I needed to keep good relations with would have been acquaintances at best.

If I didn’t find a way to deal with Kira, I might have to end up willingly playing second fiddle to her, or risk a return of the bad old days. With so little time left for graduation, a part of me wanted to give up on it all and let the dice fall where they may, but by the same logic it would be a pity to quit so close to the finish line. I’d be alright either way, but those I had been quietly sheltering would suffer. I couldn’t abolish status differences, and I didn’t even know if I wanted to, but I could model the behaviour of a fair ruler: kind to those who were respectful and deferential, and harsh to those who disobeyed her. I refused to associate with students who’d do otherwise, so this pattern spread from the top down through the school. Unfortunately it all depended on my personal prestige, and I hadn’t worked out anything like a succession, either.

As I was lost in my thoughts, Amanda joined us. It immediately made me feel better, though it solved nothing. Kira surprised me by welcoming her, while Megan remained quiet. I was happy not to have to confront Kira about it now. Megan worried hanging around with someone uncool would rub off on her. I was doing my best to make Amanda more confident, and while it was slowly working, she still had a long way to go.

I remembered she needed to go to the phone shop, but she said she had to talk to Sampo, first. He was Sylvia’s friend, and I suspected what Sylvia had been trying to hide from me earlier. I didn’t know much about him, other than he was interested in maths and design. Architecture, was it? Something like that.

He approached us and tried to talk to Amanda in private. I wasn’t having that, though. I felt responsible for her, and if he wanted what I thought he did, I was an interested party, whether they knew it or not. I walked with them, as I heard Megan and Kira exchange some remark and giggle.

We found a quiet area out of the way, and he stood there, looking at us both. He moved his lips, mumbled and gulped, a bundle of nerves. It was rather cute, in a nerdy, ineffectual way.

At last, he managed to get the words out and ask my Mandy out. Mine! I was so happy to see her instinctive response was looking at me for permission. We were friends, and hadn’t made any commitments to each other. There were no formalities between us. Yet she knew, deep inside, where it counted, that she belonged to me, and that it was up to me to decide. If she had done anything else, I might have objected; but since she showed her respect and obedience, and I had nothing specific against the boy, I gave her a nod and a smile. It would be good for her. If I was honest, I got quite excited on her behalf. My little one was growing stronger, ready to embrace new experiences, open her wings, and take flight.

She hesitated, and I wondered if I was going to have to tell her what to do. To my surprise, she told Sampo she liked girls. She’d go out with him, but she couldn’t be sure she’d like it. It was a lot of honest disclosure for someone like Amanda, used to being mocked and insulted, and I was glad I was with her, in case the boy reacted badly. Fortunately I didn’t have to intervened. Sampo was elated she’d said yes, and so he should. Amanda was a treasure.

I set my own terms though. I had my plans for Amanda for today and tomorrow, but they could go on out on Thursday. I also made it clear if she ended up crying he would regret it. Amanda blushed, and asked me to stop interfering, but I wasn’t going to let her get hurt. I didn’t think Sampo had it in him, but that was how one ended up with a crying broken down Mandy in one’s arms: by making bad assumptions. Never again. Moreover, it was the perfect time for me to make it clear to them both I was in charge.

Sampo looked satisfyingly afraid of me, accepted my terms, and asked me about Mandy’s curfew. I wanted to laugh at how easily he had recognised my power over Amanda, but I told him that was all up to them. Her parents might have their own policies, but those had nothing to do with me. He smiled at Amanda, still not quite believing his good fortune, and left.

Only then it came to her that she had a date. She was so excited. Her innocent enjoyment of something most of us our age grew to take for granted, and even became rather jaded about, was infectious. I couldn’t but feel happy and thrilled for her. I smiled and patted her head, almost maternally, and she stuck her tongue out at me, like a little kid. It felt oddly right.

Amanda had a spring in her step after getting asked out. We walked back to Megan and Kira, and it seemed like she almost wanted to skip. Of course she was so self-conscious she wouldn’t do that in public, thinking it too childish, though I wasn’t above it myself now and then. Kira noticed how excited Amanda was, and asked us what we’d been up to, so I told them the good news. Even Megan cooed. After all, getting a date made Amanda cooler, even if it was with a fellow nerd.

We went to the phone shop together, and Megan wondered about Amanda and myself. When I said we were just friends, it was like all that joy flowed out of Amanda’s little body for a moment. She wanted me so much, the little sweetie, and was so unable to express it. I relented and hinted that it might change in the future and saw her get happy and hopeful again. Such simple words for me to say, and such a huge impact. I had to be very careful with her.

Megan couldn’t believe I didn’t mind sharing. I knew most people were jealous, but I just wasn’t built that way. For me, what mattered was being in control. I demanded honesty and obedience from my girlfriends, and a bit more from my pets, but I saw no point in forbidding them to have fun with others while I wasn’t around, or together with me. Surprisingly, a lot of them chose not to. I preferred those who were willing to experiment a little, as I could use them in the hunt, luring others to me, like a falconer casting her trained bird to attract another.

I didn’t think Amanda would be helping me ensnare other prey any time soon though. She was so shy it was a wonder she’d got asked out in the first place, and I couldn’t imagine she’d be doing a lot of it herself on my behalf. On the other hand, maybe she’d grow into it. It was hard to gauge how people could change when their circumstances did, and I was doing my not so humble best to improve Amanda’s life.

At the shop, I got Amanda her replacement, and two extra cards, to avoid any chances of a repeat of that weekend. I was a little pushy about my orders, but when safety was at stake, I was relentless. She didn’t like me calling her Mandy and being strict with her, but the only thing that mattered to me was that she obeyed. She was fed up enough to get short with me, and I tried to comfort her stroking her face. She thought I was going to hurt her and jumped as I reached towards her. I’d have to train her out of that. They had messed her up so much; I hated it.

I talked her down and caressed her. She pressed her cheek against my hand, and I couldn’t help expressing my amusement. Megan and Kira thought it was just adorable, but she didn’t find it so funny. I tried to explain how worried I was about her, and after a bit of coaxing she forgave me and asked me not to treat her like a child. I’d try, so long as she was reasonable.

She put her replacement card in and her phone went crazy. I had tried contacting her so many times. She went through all my messages, getting increasingly flustered as she realised how hard I had tried to get back in touch, and how the tone on the messages went from inquiring, to insistent, to angry. Then I saw her shiver. I checked what had caused it, and of course it was a message from her cousin. I memorised the number and told her to open it.

The message started well, with thanks and an apology, and I almost thought Clara might be redeemable. Then it became utterly vile, blaming Amanda for everything that had happened, and threatening her with worse. I noticed she’d apparently been forced to rub her feet, and hoped she hadn’t been turned off of it. I couldn’t help a spike of sadistic pleasure as I imagined making her rub mine, whether she liked it or not.

My little naughty mental excursion was quickly cut short as I realised how distraught Amanda was. She was going to break her phone, and I stopped her, taking it from her. What her parents had said was perhaps not completely wrong, then. I could entirely understand how helpless rage could lead her to break things, taking it out the only way she could. If that was the worst consequence of her abuse, I’d count us both fortunate.

Amanda yelled at me and tried to wrest the phone back, but it was almost comical, given how much smaller and weaker she was. Megan was shocked, and I gave Kira a look, trying to get them out. I could see Amanda was on the edge of a full blown tantrum. Kira talked Megan into leaving, and I sighed in relief. At least Amanda would not have to bear the embarrassment of melting down in front of them both.

Then it came. Full hysterics. Screaming, crying, trying to hit me ... It was good that she was as dangerous to me as the two-year-old she was acting like. I made my excuses, grabbed her, and dragged her out somewhere quieter. I understood how angry and helpless she felt, and tried not to add to it. She needed me to be gentle, and give her a safe outlet to vent and rage. I held her, supporting and containing her, and patiently let the thing run its course. I didn’t want to reward her with attention, reinforcing the behaviour, but even I would admit the situation was extraordinary, and she deserved strong arms to hug her and a bosom to cry on.

Her words were not very coherent, but I understood she hated her cousin. It was an entirely natural reaction, but one which upset her. The poor thing felt guilty about her own desire for retribution. Of course she expressed it in exaggerated, childish terms, but I knew she would never really overstep the demands of justice. I, on the other hand, was perfectly capable of it. I gave her permission to feel that way, and it slowly calmed her down. It wasn’t all about the past, though. She was afraid of further abuse, and didn’t believe my word that it wouldn’t happen.

Right or not, I got angry with her. My word was sacred, and certainly when it came to Amanda, it was inviolate. I explained to her we’d be together for New Year, wherever we’d spend it, and promised her she was safe from her cousins from then on. She looked at me, hesitant, not daring to hope, and I looked back, reassuringly. At last she started to believe that part of her life was behind her.

Then it was her turn to apologise, and once more she called herself worthless. I was going to cut that out, whatever it took. My threat to slap her made her laugh, and took her out of her mood. I let her gather herself, held her hand, and we walked back together.

Before we arrived back at school, I swore to her on my name their cousins would be duly punished. I would not rest until I got justice for her. It made her shiver, and perhaps she saw my darkness for the first time. They didn’t only owe her, they owed me too. They had hurt one of mine, and I would make them pay a hundredfold. No mere justice would satisfy me.

I had lunch with Megan and Kira. Amanda waved at me but sat with a few people from her maths class. Megan asked Stacy, the head cheerleader, to sit with us, and she brought in her friend Anna.

“So what are we doing for Halloween?” said Stacy.

If my clique ever failed, Stacy was one of the likely candidates to take over. Megan asking her to sit with us was not an entirely good sign, but I remembered the ancient proverb: keep your friends close ... and your enemies closer.

“We should get things moving, I suppose”, I said. “Shall we meet tomorrow during the break to start setting it up?”

Stacy was a beauty, in a more conventional way than myself: blonde hair, blue eyes, and generous curves. Compared to me, she was soft, but I wager her training made her stronger than most people. She came from a wealthy family, and calling her a spoiled brat would have been an insult to the breed. I had tried working with her at first, but she was much too selfish. I suspected she was annoyed at my slightly higher status, but showing it or doing something about it would require her acknowledging it mattered to her, and she couldn’t admit being less than perfect, so she pretended it was all irrelevant, while keeping an iron hold on her own place. She got along with many people, but few were really close to her. Anna seemed to let her get away with anything, and she treated her with something almost like affection. Stacy just took it for granted, and never gave a second thought to what it said about her friend.

Stacy’s parents had given her everything she’d ever asked for, requiring little from her in return. Though she had gained the unusual self-confidence of someone who knows they won’t ever be refused anything, it also hadn’t prepared her to deal with any real obstacles. If it came to a conflict between us, that would probably be her undoing, though she was dangerous to underestimate. Just because she was spoiled didn’t mean her will was not strong.

“Sounds good”, said Stacy. “You could come to my place for the weekend, too.”

“I’m afraid I’m busy”, I said. “How about next?” I had more or less promised Amanda she could come, and bringing her with me to Stacy’s, or Stacy and company to my place with her around, would be like taking a mouse to a cat convention.

“Oh, we’re running out of time”, said Stacy, with a smile on her face. “It’s alright though, it could just be Megan and Kira. I’m sure we can handle this little thing without your help.” Nice, so that was the play.

“And what about me?” said Anna. Stacy looked at her as if she hadn’t even noticed she was there.

“Sure, but it’s not like you count anyway”, she said. Anna blushed. “I mean, you’re at my place all the time. I can just tell you to come whenever.” Anna looked into her food, avoiding our gazes, embarrassed. Stacy didn’t notice or care. “We won’t need you for the planning. It’s not your thing anyway. I’ll let you do some of the work, though. How’s that?” She cooed, as if talking to a child, and Anna nodded shyly, embarrassed but grateful at being included.

Perhaps that gave me an opening.

“Would you like to join us at my place this weekend instead?” I asked Anna. “After all, if they don’t need you...”

“Uh, but didn’t you say you were busy?” said Anna.

“Yeah”, I said. “I’m having a few people in, just hanging around, and I thought it might be fun to get to know you better. I’d already talked to them, so I can’t cancel it now.”

Stacy looked shocked when Anna agreed. I correctly surmised Stacy wouldn’t let Anna in on her plans, and she didn’t seem very sharp about such things, so she couldn’t see the moves in the game we were playing.

“So who’s going then?” said Stacy.

“Just a few real friends of mine”, I said. “Only nice people, don’t worry”, I told Anna, leaving the implicit comparison hanging. “I’ll get you on Saturday morning.”

“Great!” said Anna, making Stacy wince. Only then she realised her friend did not approve, but it was too late.

As soon as Stacy finished her meal, she made Anna go with her, though she still had half of her food left. Poor thing. I wouldn’t have wanted to be her right then. I wondered if Stacy would make her cry. If she was thoughtless enough to go that far, I might yet come out of this on top.

“Wow, did you see that?” said Kira. “What a complete bitch.” Those two words perfectly condensed my thoughts about Stacy.

“She didn’t even bother telling us when and where to meet”, said Megan, annoyed. It had been her idea to invite her to our table, after all, and it hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped.

“Maybe her secretary will do it”, I said.

“Huh?” said Megan, while Kira laughed.

“You noticed that, too?” said Kira. “Stacy’s a bitch, but Anna’s just her bitch.”

“For now”, I said. “Maybe I can turn her into ours.”

“My, that would be hilarious”, said Kira.

“Saw just how much Stacy liked it when Anna accepted?” I said. “She’s just used to her doing as she’s told. We can put her to better use, and teach Stacy a lesson at the same time.”

“Maybe”, said Megan. “But I’m a cheerleader too, and she could make my life difficult.”

Kira smirked. That was one of her best parts: she was fearless. Or rather, she knew what things were really worth being afraid of, and a bratty, self-centred school kid in a rage didn’t begin to count.