CitizenCane
09-16-2006, 01:55 PM
My wife, Margaret and I are writing this story together I will write from one character's perspective then she will respond. We'd love to hear your comments. Thanks
Cane and Meg.
Mr. and Mrs. Walsh sat uncomfortably in Mr. Rein’s office. Mrs. Walsh held onto her husband’s hand and shifted nervously in her seat her eyes darted about the room, hoping that a subject of conversation would leap out of the pictures or bric-a-brac. Mr. Reins sat like a stone: stoic, silent, waiting. After his curt, “Sit down please.” He said nothing. The tock of the mantle clock became deafening to Mrs. Walsh. Then, finally, her husband broke the standoff.
“We expect a top notch education and constant communication from both you, your staff and from Margaret. If we chose to send her here.” He had no intentions of being cowed by a petulant head master. He was no schoolboy.
Mr. Reins stood up and proffered his hand to Mr. Walsh. “I believe our school does not suit your needs Mr. and Mrs. Walsh. I sincerely hope Margaret finds a more apt placement. Good bye”
Willow Ridge Academy was their last hope. Margaret had been expelled firstly from their neighborhood schools then from three private schools and lastly had exasperated her mother in her inept attempt at home schooling. She had run away for weeks on end. She lied as a matter of course. She ran with a crowd of drug addicted wastrels. She had been arrested twice and lately she had taken to hitting her mother. Joanne Walsh was not about to see her husband get into some male ego game and blow their chance at redeeming their once angelic daughter.
“You have to help us. Tell us what to do. We will do anything. We have heard that you turn girls like Meg around. We have tried everything. We are lost.” She broke down and slumped back into her chair.
“It is not as bleak as that.” Gerry Walsh began to prepare his standard list of excuses in his head.
“No, it’s worse,” his wife interjected. “You know it. We are out of options. You take her and leave if you think you have an answer.” She spat this threat out at him and he sat back in the chair, nodded and acquiesced.
“Alright, perhaps we can talk. We at Willow Ridge believe in “tough love.” You will interfere in no way. We have staff here year round and your Margaret will not even be entertaining a trip home for one full year. She will write to you once a month and I will edit her mail. She has to know that she depends on us for everything. She has no ears to hear her but ours. We are both judge and jury. She has to learn that... and live with that. Then, we will begin to see changes. There are no loopholes, no special circumstances. You agree to it all or again good-bye. We have thirty-five young ladies here at the prep school. All were recalcitrant delinquents, “tough customers”. Every one of them will graduate into top colleges. I am in charge. That is it. I will meet and speak with Margaret now; and, after that you will have made a decision. So will I. If you and I both agree that this is the place for her, she stays and you leave. We will send a list of her requirements to your home. Harsh, yes, but necessary. Believe me. I have seen it all before. Please wait outside and send in your daughter.”
Momentarily, the door to Mr. Rein’s office flew open and in the frame stood a red haired fireball. Margaret Walsh an eighteen-year-old beauty stood defiantly, yet sullenly. Leaning on the oaken jamb.
“Sit down please Miss Walsh.” Reins eyed her lithe and sensual figure. She was a study in nubile beauty. She sported ample but pert young breasts and a waspish waist. Her halter-top allowed her cleavage and her abdomen to be readily admired. When she ambled to the open chair Reins caught a glimpse of her tightly mini skirted bottom. Now, Mr. Reins knew bottoms. He was fascinated, intrigued, obsessed, addicted, to young ladies asses. This particular bum jutted out in an apple bottom shape, which immediately caused blood to course through his ever-attentive penis. He knew from experience that it would form a perfect heart-shaped jewel over his randy lap. Reins was close to salivating over the pouting Margaret Walsh.
She left the door open as she walked in and Mr. Reins got out from behind his desk and nodded to the debating parents. He closed the door. Smiled, sighed, returned to his desk. Margaret was more lying in than sitting on the chair. Her long cool and shapely legs crossed at the ankles and the mini rode up her thighs. Reins believed that a wisp of white from her panties was barely visible. She laced her fingers behind her neck and stared at him with disdain.
“This place stinks” she yawned. “What’s that shit the janitors throw on the floor then sweep up. The whole place smells like that. That and goddam pinesol. I’d have a headache non-stop. I won’t let them send me here so you can skip the rah-rah, one for all, for your own good, strong as the weakest link. Bullshit. I’ve heard it all. They’ll do just what I tell them and this shit hole is a no-way for me. You’ll have to get your bucks from somebody else.” She continued and Reins studied her, smiling at the images of her submissive pleading which flashed through his mind.
“Are you a perv or something? You’re really scoping me out. I’ve been to private schools. I’ll bet you’re a peeper, hanging around the stairwell. That kind of shit. I can’t believe it. How’s this?” She opened her thighs and closed them shut again. Reins saw a full flash of her silk white panties and her alabaster thighs. “I thought so. Jesus Christ, another one.”
“Yes I see that you have accused two of your teachers of sexual harassment. And you had a janitor arrested and fired for the same thing. Eventually, the psychological report says, they realized that the problem was you my dear.” He was completely calm and reserved throughout the accusations and the little show. He stood up and walked to the door towards the waiting parents.
Margaret smiled at having achieved her objective… Kicked out in what, five minutes… A record.
Reins opened the door and left her in his office. Shutting the door he approached the anxious pair.
“Well…” he asked.
“Yes. Yes. We agree to everything. We have no recourse but to put her in your hands. But do we have to leave her here today. Can we take her out to a restaurant and tell her about our decision and why it was necessary.” Mrs. Walsh rushed through her speech.
“As a matter of fact, you will leave immediately and I will tell her. Her training starts this instant.”
“What! Not even a good-be?” Gerry Walsh complained.
“It would just turn ugly. Believe me. We will handle everything. Good-bye Mr. and Mrs. Walsh.”
Mrs. Walsh burst into tears but grabbed her husband’s hand at the same time and rushed him out the door. Reins watched them leave and wore a smug dreamy look on his face.
She's mine, he thought...
Cane and Meg.
Mr. and Mrs. Walsh sat uncomfortably in Mr. Rein’s office. Mrs. Walsh held onto her husband’s hand and shifted nervously in her seat her eyes darted about the room, hoping that a subject of conversation would leap out of the pictures or bric-a-brac. Mr. Reins sat like a stone: stoic, silent, waiting. After his curt, “Sit down please.” He said nothing. The tock of the mantle clock became deafening to Mrs. Walsh. Then, finally, her husband broke the standoff.
“We expect a top notch education and constant communication from both you, your staff and from Margaret. If we chose to send her here.” He had no intentions of being cowed by a petulant head master. He was no schoolboy.
Mr. Reins stood up and proffered his hand to Mr. Walsh. “I believe our school does not suit your needs Mr. and Mrs. Walsh. I sincerely hope Margaret finds a more apt placement. Good bye”
Willow Ridge Academy was their last hope. Margaret had been expelled firstly from their neighborhood schools then from three private schools and lastly had exasperated her mother in her inept attempt at home schooling. She had run away for weeks on end. She lied as a matter of course. She ran with a crowd of drug addicted wastrels. She had been arrested twice and lately she had taken to hitting her mother. Joanne Walsh was not about to see her husband get into some male ego game and blow their chance at redeeming their once angelic daughter.
“You have to help us. Tell us what to do. We will do anything. We have heard that you turn girls like Meg around. We have tried everything. We are lost.” She broke down and slumped back into her chair.
“It is not as bleak as that.” Gerry Walsh began to prepare his standard list of excuses in his head.
“No, it’s worse,” his wife interjected. “You know it. We are out of options. You take her and leave if you think you have an answer.” She spat this threat out at him and he sat back in the chair, nodded and acquiesced.
“Alright, perhaps we can talk. We at Willow Ridge believe in “tough love.” You will interfere in no way. We have staff here year round and your Margaret will not even be entertaining a trip home for one full year. She will write to you once a month and I will edit her mail. She has to know that she depends on us for everything. She has no ears to hear her but ours. We are both judge and jury. She has to learn that... and live with that. Then, we will begin to see changes. There are no loopholes, no special circumstances. You agree to it all or again good-bye. We have thirty-five young ladies here at the prep school. All were recalcitrant delinquents, “tough customers”. Every one of them will graduate into top colleges. I am in charge. That is it. I will meet and speak with Margaret now; and, after that you will have made a decision. So will I. If you and I both agree that this is the place for her, she stays and you leave. We will send a list of her requirements to your home. Harsh, yes, but necessary. Believe me. I have seen it all before. Please wait outside and send in your daughter.”
Momentarily, the door to Mr. Rein’s office flew open and in the frame stood a red haired fireball. Margaret Walsh an eighteen-year-old beauty stood defiantly, yet sullenly. Leaning on the oaken jamb.
“Sit down please Miss Walsh.” Reins eyed her lithe and sensual figure. She was a study in nubile beauty. She sported ample but pert young breasts and a waspish waist. Her halter-top allowed her cleavage and her abdomen to be readily admired. When she ambled to the open chair Reins caught a glimpse of her tightly mini skirted bottom. Now, Mr. Reins knew bottoms. He was fascinated, intrigued, obsessed, addicted, to young ladies asses. This particular bum jutted out in an apple bottom shape, which immediately caused blood to course through his ever-attentive penis. He knew from experience that it would form a perfect heart-shaped jewel over his randy lap. Reins was close to salivating over the pouting Margaret Walsh.
She left the door open as she walked in and Mr. Reins got out from behind his desk and nodded to the debating parents. He closed the door. Smiled, sighed, returned to his desk. Margaret was more lying in than sitting on the chair. Her long cool and shapely legs crossed at the ankles and the mini rode up her thighs. Reins believed that a wisp of white from her panties was barely visible. She laced her fingers behind her neck and stared at him with disdain.
“This place stinks” she yawned. “What’s that shit the janitors throw on the floor then sweep up. The whole place smells like that. That and goddam pinesol. I’d have a headache non-stop. I won’t let them send me here so you can skip the rah-rah, one for all, for your own good, strong as the weakest link. Bullshit. I’ve heard it all. They’ll do just what I tell them and this shit hole is a no-way for me. You’ll have to get your bucks from somebody else.” She continued and Reins studied her, smiling at the images of her submissive pleading which flashed through his mind.
“Are you a perv or something? You’re really scoping me out. I’ve been to private schools. I’ll bet you’re a peeper, hanging around the stairwell. That kind of shit. I can’t believe it. How’s this?” She opened her thighs and closed them shut again. Reins saw a full flash of her silk white panties and her alabaster thighs. “I thought so. Jesus Christ, another one.”
“Yes I see that you have accused two of your teachers of sexual harassment. And you had a janitor arrested and fired for the same thing. Eventually, the psychological report says, they realized that the problem was you my dear.” He was completely calm and reserved throughout the accusations and the little show. He stood up and walked to the door towards the waiting parents.
Margaret smiled at having achieved her objective… Kicked out in what, five minutes… A record.
Reins opened the door and left her in his office. Shutting the door he approached the anxious pair.
“Well…” he asked.
“Yes. Yes. We agree to everything. We have no recourse but to put her in your hands. But do we have to leave her here today. Can we take her out to a restaurant and tell her about our decision and why it was necessary.” Mrs. Walsh rushed through her speech.
“As a matter of fact, you will leave immediately and I will tell her. Her training starts this instant.”
“What! Not even a good-be?” Gerry Walsh complained.
“It would just turn ugly. Believe me. We will handle everything. Good-bye Mr. and Mrs. Walsh.”
Mrs. Walsh burst into tears but grabbed her husband’s hand at the same time and rushed him out the door. Reins watched them leave and wore a smug dreamy look on his face.
She's mine, he thought...