I could not move or do a thing about it nor clean or wipe myself.I heard footsteps and further laughter receding off into the house. I was indeed now ...ust an animal in a cage left alone wet and miserable. I was getting cramped in the confines of the cage. I could not move much. If I tried to move my legs or ease the pressure on my arms held above my head by the handcuffs. My cage moved swinging back and for on the chain, which suspended it above, the ground.Time continued to slowly pass. Damp. Mousey hair piled in a bun on her head, thick glasses that made her eyes look buggy when she looked at you, and she always wore business suits- the skirt kind mind you. Some flowing, some tight and every single time we did wind tunnel experiments in the lab- a lab coat.I remember I didn't think much of her the first time I sat down in her class. She looked boring and while she was talking to her TA, she just sounded dead. She was one of those teachers you just knew her class was going to be. Not real chesty but had a real nice figure. After what Brick had told me I started paying attention whenever Mrs. Jones sat on the table in front of me to teach to the class. She was most certainly doing what Brick said she was doing and whenever she did I would always end up having to carry my books out across the front of my pants to hide my hard on. There was one time, when Brick was absent, (it was in January or February) Mrs. Jones sat in front of me and the panties she was wearing were. People loved her. They quietly and thoughtfully told me what Mother had done for them, how she had helped, how she had cared. I alternately swelled up with pride, that she was my mother and I her daughter, and then shrank away, diminished in some way by not knowing about this, never imagining what was happening, nearly under my very nose, yet hidden by my blindness.Maddie never left my side. I’d loved my mother and I loved Maddie. She could never imagine how much.I threw the first handful of.
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