Mistress Discipline Leads the Class
Oct 23, 2020 18:32:01 GMT -5
Dave D-Flipz, bloodiedfox, and 2 more like this
Post by h2f on Oct 23, 2020 18:32:01 GMT -5
The school sits quietly waiting. No students have entered since last spring. Some of the picturesque ivy artfully added to the perimeter fence has started to climb up the building’s side. Maintenance workers have visited but they haven't noticed the flickering light in the hall. The dripping water fountain must be wasting a ton of water. There is a low buzzing that seems to permeate the quiet space.
Someone is breathing heavily behind a mask. A squeaky door opens down the hall. It slams shut.
Mistress Discipline looks up. “Chaos, you are late.”
Dr. Chaos, Mistress Discipline’s manager, bends as she throws her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry but. My changing room. Was WAY far away.”
Mistress Discipline has her arms crossed over her chest and for the first time we can see her well defined upper arms. Her short sleeve, 1950s inspired blue dress flatters her frame and yet she looks cross. “These simply will not do. I cannot wrestle in a dress. I cannot wrestle in this wig either. I need to be able to see my opponents and I will not be wearing something that can be easily turned into a weakness.”
Chaos stands revealing a revealing short, low cut, spaghetti strapped pink dress with a horizontal black bar across her middle. She leans to one side to adjust her white thigh high stockings as she looks at Mistress Discipline. “We definitely need to rethink these costumes before the big day, but that’s why we are trying them on now. I knew I should have worn a garter belt.” She adjusts the thigh highs again like someone wearing undies that perpetually give them a wedgie and takes her seat looking at the rest of the class.
Death Trap sits in the middle of the room wearing a white lab coat and fake black rimmed glasses. “Who am I supposed to be again? Some angry, mad scientists out to take over the world?”
Chaos giggles. “You’re our daddy. Don’t spank us, daddy.”
Death Trap looks confused. “I have qu-”
Mistress Discipline shakes her head. “Not yet, please. And Chaos do remember there is a young person here.”
Sarah, meanwhile, balances a pencil on her nose and ignores the rest of the room.
Chaos looks at her daughter. “Yep. Super impressionable. Like that young whipper snapper who thinks he’s a god. Reminds me of the last wrestling god of the XHF network ... but don’t drink his kool aid. It could be poisoned.”
Death Trap rubs his neck. “I still owe that bastard one. I hope Dylan kicks his ass.”
A loud slapping noise makes Sarah jump and the pencil clatters to the floor. All eyes turn to the front of the classroom where Mistress Discipline has slapped her yardstick against the desk.
Chaos giggles. “Kinky! I hear Derrick Lancaster is willing to be your submissive and follow all your orders.”
Mistress Discipline glares around the room. “Focus here people! I agree that Derrick is submissive and he will follow my orders but that is not what this is about. Today serves two goals. One, we test out our Powerpuff Girls outfits and two we discuss my two opponents.”
Death Trap raises his hand and Mistress Discipline nods. “But I won’t even be at your Pumpkin Glow Match.”
Mistress Discipline nods again. “A good point, but we will be taking group photos after and if I have to wear something outside my norm, so do you.”
Mistress Discipline pulls out a remote and turns the projector on. While it warms up, she continues. “Now, Fireside is a young promotion and my opponents seem to be similarly young in their wrestling careers. This puts our planning at a touch of a disadvantage because all we really know is-”
Chaos signs. “-That what’s his face thinks highly of his abilities and the other one has some skills.”
Mistress Discipline looks at chaos. “Names are useful in this context because that first part describes them both. And please stop interrupting. At least Death Trap raised his hand.”
Sarah raises her hand and Mistress Discipline nods at her. “BATHROOM!!”
She bolts for the door before waiting for an answer. Both Mistress Discipline and Death Trap look at Chaos.
Chaos shakes her head. “You don’t want to know. Having a child requires a certain amount of discretion. I would hate to break her trust. Though from the discussion I’ve been listening to, there seems to be some confusion between international adoption and human trafficking. Considering the amount of paperwork that has gone into this, I very much doubt human traffickers would complete all those fudgerumple forms.”
Mistress Discipline nods. “While I can understand the sentiment, I doubt it is actually shared. Misha talks of human trafficking concerns one moment and beating up children the next.”
Chaos stands. “I object. I’m not so short as to be mistaken for a child.”
Mistress Discipline shakes her head. “He will be coming after Sarah.”
Chaos sits. “Oh. You’ll defend our honor and kick his ass, I know it. I won’t even need to lift a finger.”
Mistress Discipline taps the yardstick against her hand. “For a high flyer, I fear Misha is flying too close to the sun on this one. Both of my opponents are going into the ring over confident. I have brought others with similar mindsets to their knees. I fail to see how it will be me on my knees at the end of the night.”
The projector has finally warmed up and shows the title slide. It’s a close up of a man’s abs with sweat dripping down the front. Death Trap startles and looks visibly concerned while Chaos snickers.
Mistress Discipline doesn’t look behind her. “Now, before we get into this presentation, are there any additional questions?”
Someone is breathing heavily behind a mask. A squeaky door opens down the hall. It slams shut.
Mistress Discipline looks up. “Chaos, you are late.”
Dr. Chaos, Mistress Discipline’s manager, bends as she throws her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry but. My changing room. Was WAY far away.”
Mistress Discipline has her arms crossed over her chest and for the first time we can see her well defined upper arms. Her short sleeve, 1950s inspired blue dress flatters her frame and yet she looks cross. “These simply will not do. I cannot wrestle in a dress. I cannot wrestle in this wig either. I need to be able to see my opponents and I will not be wearing something that can be easily turned into a weakness.”
Chaos stands revealing a revealing short, low cut, spaghetti strapped pink dress with a horizontal black bar across her middle. She leans to one side to adjust her white thigh high stockings as she looks at Mistress Discipline. “We definitely need to rethink these costumes before the big day, but that’s why we are trying them on now. I knew I should have worn a garter belt.” She adjusts the thigh highs again like someone wearing undies that perpetually give them a wedgie and takes her seat looking at the rest of the class.
Death Trap sits in the middle of the room wearing a white lab coat and fake black rimmed glasses. “Who am I supposed to be again? Some angry, mad scientists out to take over the world?”
Chaos giggles. “You’re our daddy. Don’t spank us, daddy.”
Death Trap looks confused. “I have qu-”
Mistress Discipline shakes her head. “Not yet, please. And Chaos do remember there is a young person here.”
Sarah, meanwhile, balances a pencil on her nose and ignores the rest of the room.
Chaos looks at her daughter. “Yep. Super impressionable. Like that young whipper snapper who thinks he’s a god. Reminds me of the last wrestling god of the XHF network ... but don’t drink his kool aid. It could be poisoned.”
Death Trap rubs his neck. “I still owe that bastard one. I hope Dylan kicks his ass.”
A loud slapping noise makes Sarah jump and the pencil clatters to the floor. All eyes turn to the front of the classroom where Mistress Discipline has slapped her yardstick against the desk.
Chaos giggles. “Kinky! I hear Derrick Lancaster is willing to be your submissive and follow all your orders.”
Mistress Discipline glares around the room. “Focus here people! I agree that Derrick is submissive and he will follow my orders but that is not what this is about. Today serves two goals. One, we test out our Powerpuff Girls outfits and two we discuss my two opponents.”
Death Trap raises his hand and Mistress Discipline nods. “But I won’t even be at your Pumpkin Glow Match.”
Mistress Discipline nods again. “A good point, but we will be taking group photos after and if I have to wear something outside my norm, so do you.”
Mistress Discipline pulls out a remote and turns the projector on. While it warms up, she continues. “Now, Fireside is a young promotion and my opponents seem to be similarly young in their wrestling careers. This puts our planning at a touch of a disadvantage because all we really know is-”
Chaos signs. “-That what’s his face thinks highly of his abilities and the other one has some skills.”
Mistress Discipline looks at chaos. “Names are useful in this context because that first part describes them both. And please stop interrupting. At least Death Trap raised his hand.”
Sarah raises her hand and Mistress Discipline nods at her. “BATHROOM!!”
She bolts for the door before waiting for an answer. Both Mistress Discipline and Death Trap look at Chaos.
Chaos shakes her head. “You don’t want to know. Having a child requires a certain amount of discretion. I would hate to break her trust. Though from the discussion I’ve been listening to, there seems to be some confusion between international adoption and human trafficking. Considering the amount of paperwork that has gone into this, I very much doubt human traffickers would complete all those fudgerumple forms.”
Mistress Discipline nods. “While I can understand the sentiment, I doubt it is actually shared. Misha talks of human trafficking concerns one moment and beating up children the next.”
Chaos stands. “I object. I’m not so short as to be mistaken for a child.”
Mistress Discipline shakes her head. “He will be coming after Sarah.”
Chaos sits. “Oh. You’ll defend our honor and kick his ass, I know it. I won’t even need to lift a finger.”
Mistress Discipline taps the yardstick against her hand. “For a high flyer, I fear Misha is flying too close to the sun on this one. Both of my opponents are going into the ring over confident. I have brought others with similar mindsets to their knees. I fail to see how it will be me on my knees at the end of the night.”
The projector has finally warmed up and shows the title slide. It’s a close up of a man’s abs with sweat dripping down the front. Death Trap startles and looks visibly concerned while Chaos snickers.
Mistress Discipline doesn’t look behind her. “Now, before we get into this presentation, are there any additional questions?”
