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So, it is Jenny who is calling Hannah
Story 9 Chapter 4: Back in the Fold
“Hannah Bandana!” Jenny's familiar squeak greeted me, “How are you?”
“Good. I finally asked Joyce and Michela about important things. How are you?”
“Good good! Would it be all right if Nichole and I came over tomorrow?”
“It should be! We're having a birthday party tomorrow, if you want to come. It’ll be a mob scene though because it's Michela’s first birthday party in five years.”
“Awwww, we would love to be there for her, if she wants that.”
“I want that. It's my first birthday party since my sweet 16,” I started crying, “Jenny, I threw it all away. I'm sorry! All I want to be is 14 again and able to undo all the sh-t I did and not hurt you, Nichole, and Joy like I did and be a Cool Girl again!”
“You never ceased to be a Cool Girl. You still are one.”
Then Jenny kindly lectured me. No, lectured isn't fair, because Jenny's words pierced my soul with the purity of her love. There was something special, meaningful, in how Jenny and Joyce loved us. I was slowly learning how to better love others.
I was glad Jenny called. If she hadn't called, the events that happened that Sunday… might not have ever happened. When I hung up the phone, I walked over to Michela and gave her a tight hug and told her all about the guests coming to her birthday party. Really, I didn't want to accept it, but they were coming for me more than Michela.
March 22, 2015
I don’t know what overcame me, but when our friends arrived I ran. I left Michela in my dust and ran to embrace Casey first, Nichole second, and Jenny third. There wasn’t a reason except that it was the order in which they had been walking up to the door of the Palmeri’s…our home. I was at home here, and I was loved as the friend who was slowly bringing Michela back to life. Nichole and Casey were the girls slowly bringing me back to life in a way, but it was mostly all of my amazing friends from Pod F.
“Kenny, come out!” I called back.
“I’m coming,” Kendra sheepishly walked to the driveway.
“Kendra! It’s so good to see you!” Jenny ran to her cousin.
“Jenny!” Kendra finally smiled, “Thank you for still caring after all I’ve done!”
“I never stopped!” Jenny said while they embraced, “You’re family, cousin; I love you!”
“Let’s go inside,” was Kendra being embarrassed to have an intimate moment in front of others.
Kylie couldn't be there because she was having her own first birthday party since she got out of juvie. Her first since she was 14! Mary-Ann didn't know what birthday parties were; Kendra agreed to come. It was a nice little reunion; all had to accept that Michela wanted her juvie friends there. But my grandma made it too! Unfortunately, M.A. had to leave early because she had work early in the morning. Joyce was sick and couldn't make it.
It was strange to see Jenny be taller than someone. Little Jenny and Kendra looked so much like each other that the only distinguishing feature from behind was Kendra’s muscle. Oh, sure, there was the obvious orange bandana on Jenny’s head which contrasted with Kendra’s bright blue. It was new to see Kendra with one; she’d spent too much time around me, M.A., and Michela and been converted it seemed. That or she saw it as solidarity. Kendra was doing things her way while the party was going.
Then she didn’t. She and Jenny were too cute together. We all worked together to bind them and gag them. Michela and I knew that Kendra wasn’t terribly interested in bondage outside studio work, but we also knew she was a sport. Yes, we kidnapped them. And Michela once they were tied. We had a party after the party!
Friendship is a funny thing. What a sight they made! Oh, where do I start? I’ll let you read the next interlude first.
► Show Spoiler
Interlude 96: Hockey and Mrs. Copley’s Love
May 10, 2013
We had three 8 hour shifts of guards. They rotated off at 8AM, 4PM, and 12AM. We were all locked up or busy during this time, and the teams of three guards worked on a rotation of three days on duty followed by one day off duty. For Mrs. Copley, we’d get three days with her being our wake-up call, then a day without her; then three days with her blowing us each a good night kiss and laughing with us during nighttime recreation, then a day without her; then three days of her being our best friend as we went through our daily routines (and maybe morning recreation), then a day without her.
“Michela, Ashley, I’m sorry. The Wild lost,” came over the announcement system during breakfast.
“Rats!” Michela groaned, “Denied again.”
“Mrs. Copley cares enough to update you. She’s so sweet,” I bit into a pancake.
“It still stinks that they lost.”
“Michela, what does hockey mean to you, for real?” I asked her as kindly as I could.
“My grandpa took me to the first ever home game, that’s how much it means!” I saw a sparkle in her eyes, “I hope he and I can go to just one more game when I’m out.”
I mentioned the respective orange and bright blue bandanas that Jenny and Kendra wore. Kendra had a kerchief, but Jenny had a headband. Of course, Jenny almost always had her hair in a braid that was held by a scrunchie, but Kendra’s was down today. Jenny had matching orange athletic shorts and a black t-shirt; Kendra had tight black jean shorts and a bright blue tank top.
Jenny’s gag was a bright blue rubber ball such as those used by the same sorority to which Joyce, Emilia, and Cassie belong, with a handkerchief; Kendra’s gag was the same with an orange ball. We even tied them the same. Three ropes on their arms to crush them down, two on their thighs, and three on their legs bound them, and a
Tied After Class harness followed. We took off their shoes and socks and put those aside before zipping the big toe of Jenny’s right foot to the big toe of Kendra’s left and vice versa.
Michela was a gorgeous bondage doll with whom I shamelessly took liberty in the process of the kidnapping. Today, she had dressed like an Italian flag! Her long red skirt came to her ankles. A white button-up long-sleeve shirt was her top. On her head was a green bandana headband. Why was I the one blessed to share a bed with such a gorgeous girl like Michela?! Green knee socks and black ankle boots finished the outfit.
We asked, and Michela refused to allow us to put a rubber ball in her mouth. I knew she would say that, but I still let Casey and Nichole ask her. Instead, she got the hose I had worn to mass that morning when I went with her family since Kendra said she’d be there as well. A knotted white handkerchief cleave gagged her. Both her wrists and her ankles were crossed and tied. A real harness pinned her arms, and her thighs were tied together. In tying her ankles, I made sure Nichole’s white rope dug into the heels of Michela’s boots. We hogtied her, and I opened her shirt to humiliate her.
The three of us–Casey, Nichole, and I–piled on the futon to watch Jenny and Kendra struggle on the floor while Michela struggled on the bed. Despite the general dislike of bondage, Kendra loved us, especially me and Jenny, enough to forgive this for the sake of an intimate moment. It was odd; Kendra was vulnerable.
“Look at Kendra. Feel that feeling?” Nichole asked me, “That's friendship.”
“I know,” I watched the two little girls on the floor, “Nichole, tell me about school.”
“What about school? You're in college; you know.”
“No, about Minnesota Tech and life there.”
“Oh, well, It's different living on campus, but it's great because of friends. I don't…”
“You trailed off. Something wrong?” I scratched my head.
“College life,” Nichole took off her own bandana, “is better than home life.”
“Want to talk?” Casey asked her.
“Nah,” Nichole shook her head, “It's fine. Just not as good as being with my friends.”
Casey, the Gangsta Friend, was a true friend indeed. I hugged her tightly like younger Hannah used to hug Achilles the Stuffed Rabbit, who sat on the pillow, as he’d always done, curiously not noticing the hogtied girl struggling on the bed. I do not know why I was so tightly clutching except that I had a desire in my heart: for me and my friends to be accepted into (in my case, reconciled with) the Cool Girls’ Club.
Nichole didn't want to talk, clearly, so she instead joined the platonic hug on the futon. We all watched the three girls in their respective captivity. To bring out the best in my dear Kendra, I set up my phone to film her. When she saw it, I saw a sparkle form in her eyes. Unlike Jenny, Kendra was working up a sweat in her bondage. The cousins looked at each other and smiled; the reunion of the two was complete.
► Show Spoiler
Interlude 97: Letter from Casey
November 30, 2012
Miss Larsson,
I hope you’re doing all right. My number is 952-xxx-xxxx if you ever want to call. I will always have time to talk.
Your friend,
Casey Clark
December 1, 2012
My response (always hand-written)
Miss Clark,
I have added you to my list of permitted callers, but I know those are your mom’s digits since they might balk at a youth’s number. I’ll call you as soon as I have earned the privilege by attaining a III+ rank. I’ll explain then.
Thank you for caring,
Hannah Larsson
“Nichole, I need Minnesota Tech. I’ve been diagnosed with BPD. I need help. I’m a disaster. Michela and I need… you girls.”
“I can't help you, Hannah, except to encourage you. Email them,” Nichole seemed to truly hear my pleas.
“All right. I have to try. Maybe somewhere out there is a school just waiting for me. Maybe there's one for Michela, too. Even better, maybe they'll be the same or at least close to each other!”
“Keep exploring, Hannah,” Casey's words oozed hope, “God will provide.”
“I hope so. If He sees me or even cares,” I saw similar doubts in Nichole's face.
“Look at them… long lost friends reunited,” Casey motioned to the Kristensen girls.
Jenny and Kendra were twisting and squeaking in a most adorable manner. Bondage or not, Kendra was having a moment to remember with her cousin, and she smiled in a way that still pierces my heart. In life after juvie, Kendra was…happy. Oh, sure, we knew the serious dour girl would return in an hour, but at the moment she was having too much fun playing with a cousin she loved.
Kendra and I had a lot in common. We were both taken for granted, but unlike her I had neither siblings nor cousins. We escaped reality by doing drugs and got busted as parts of the same ring. We both hid from the few people who loved us because we were ashamed of what we’d done, and we tried to hide our emotions.
Jenny and Kendra were trying to reach the other's bonds, but it didn't matter because little Kendra got herself out of the clothesline before the more experienced Jenny! I knew Jenny was awful at escaping, but even this was bad by her standards. I smiled visibly because my little wish was coming true. Kendra had passed the test.
“Awwwww,” Kendra taunted Jenny, “Are you stuck girl?”
“Mmm hmm!” Jenny nodded although she was making headway.
“That's too bad,” Kendra smiled, “Be a shame if I did this!”
SMACK! Jenny was spanked on the butt, “Wheeeeeeee!”
“That's my Jenny. Remember when we were like 10 and would help Gramgram make pies for the holidays? You, me, your mom, and Great-Aunt Judy?”
“Mmm hmm!” Jenny nodded while her cousin helped her get out.
“Maybe,” Kendra's eyes sparkled, “We can do it again while Gramgram is still alive.”
“Mmmm!” that squeal of delight was infectious.
Only in the Kristensen family of Danes could you find an 82 year-old great-grandma where the great-granddaughter was pushing 20 years. It was hard to believe Kendra had parents under 40 when mine were pushing 50. I was jealous listening to them talk about family when my grandpa died in a jungle somewhere northwest of Saigon back in 1970, leaving an infant son and a 19 year-old widow. I’d seen pictures and heard the stories of Grandpa George, but to hug him and kiss him would be so much better.
Michela was where my eyes went while my ears ingested the delight of the cousins. I would have put so much more effort into cherishing the moments if I’d known Kendra would be dead 41 months from now. In reality, I did though, because she was the first person for whom I had a true and meaningful platonic affection, and I understood that while sitting there.
Michela was hot as could be, and I knew there’d be some light clothes-on fornication if Michela was game. The rope was good, but Michela was better. Like myself and Nichole, she had the prowess to competently escape, and the hogtie came to an end. She sat up and smiled while sucking on my hose before gradually escaping. It took another 15 minutes, but she did it.
“I knew they could get out if they tried,” Nichole leaned back and smiled.
“Well, then, there's just one thing left to do,” Jenny’s eyes beamed with joy.
“What's that?” Michela's eyes were hopeful as if there were a reward to come.
“I’m curious, too!” I think I had my own hopes.
“To officially make you two members of the Cool Girls’ Club, and to recognize you as a lost sheep that has come back into the fold.”
“Jenny…,” I felt the love coming off my friends, “Do you mean that?”
“I do. Michela Palmeri, do you want to be a member of our Club?”
I turned to my girlfriend and saw a new sparkle in her eyes. Her torture as a child had not been in vain; good things had come out of it. My mistakes had truly seen me reap my own great rewards, too, and for the first time I understood that my suffering could be used for good when I tried. Michela seemed overwhelmed.
“I have since the day I first heard of it!” Michela jumped at this.
“Do you agree to abide by the principles of love outlined in our Constitution?”
“I do!” Michela readily accepted the terms.
“Kendra, I know you're not into TUGs, but do you?” I looked at her.
“How can I say no?” Kendra smiled, “Love and friendship is right here. I do.”
“Then, with the agreement of Casey and Nichole, we have the required three members to pronounce you both Cool Girls. Welcome to the family!”
“Thank you so much!” Michela hugged Jenny, “You don't know what it means to girls like me who believe that they’ll forever be rejected by everyone they meet.”
“It's an honor, Jenny,” Kendra joined the hug in a rare display of affection.
“Welcome home, Hannah. We saved your seat for you,” Casey held out her hand.
“You never gave up hope, and here I am. I’m back. For real,” I started crying.
“Hannah Bandana, I’m glad to call you my friend.”
“Once a Cool Girl, always a Cool Girl,” Nichole reminded me, “And no Cool Girl has a journey as touching as yours.”
“Yet. Wait until I get my other friends to join,” I reached out and hugged Nichole.
The six of us then all grouped together in a giant hug. I started bawling my eyes out, which got Jenny and Michela bawling too. I had redeemed myself in their eyes; now, I had a second chance. My story had been about proving myself to those I thought did not want to be seen with a former inmate when in reality I first had to prove myself to myself. Thank you, Joyce, for what you taught me the other day. Thank you, girls, for having infinite depths to your hearts. Thank you, Kendra, for letting me see things you only let Jenny and Mary-Ann see.
► Show Spoiler
Interlude 98: Letter from Nichole
December 4, 2012
(Hand-written)
Hannah,
Sorry to hear you got busted. I can’t believe your parents ditched you, too. I know you must have a lot of thoughts, but here’s my number 952-xxx-xxxx if you want to talk. I’m sorry for not being a better friend to you, but if just want to cry or laugh or feel normal, I’ll listen. No judging will ever come from me; you know that.
I hate how it feels. My dad and brothers don’t want me either. I’d have to explain it in person. I feel for you, and I will do everything I can in my power to ensure you get the most possible love as long as you’re in there. Just because your mom and dad won’t have doesn’t mean we won’t. I am a Cool Girl, a Gangsta Queen; I took an oath of love and friendship. It’s all my fault. It was my idea to stop inviting you and Case to things. When Case took the stroke, it was Jenny who made amends.
How are you doing now? Please, don’t knock yourself down or hate yourself for this. You know the person you can be. Make friends of the other girls; they might be just like you. Do what you can to make this be the turning point of your life. I know you can.
Much love,
Nichole
December 7, 2012
My response
Nichole,
You’re a doll. I’m OK. I screwed up. I am trying to make the best of it… since I am looking at a long time in here. My cellmate has been here for almost 2 years and is looking at another year and a half or more. It’ll be a heck of a stretch. I’ll call before you get this, most likely.
Regards,
Hannah
I ordinarily only talk about the bedroom when there’s bondage, but tonight’s game didn't start with bondage. We did have our clothes on like I hoped. Michela sat on the futon, and I sat next to her. Something had happened today: Michela's eyes burned in the passion of lust, but there was life.
Slowly, I unbuttoned her shirt just like I had done before during the game and took off my own shirt, Michela just posed like she would for a pinup photo while staring into my eyes. Our lips met, and Michela found herself on her back with me on top of her with my left hand squeezing her tits while my right pushed her head towards mine.
Then I let go of her. We embraced each other tightly while we rubbed our tits and our p-ssies together. We kissed without breaking eye contact. While we looked into each other's eyes, I noticed that Michela seemed to be emotionally alive. What a moment! It was a beautiful orgasm we experienced together.
“Hannah, thank you for everything you've done for me,” she said when we paused.
“I'm just one person,” I admitted, “We have lots of great friends.”
“I meant it earlier. From when you told me about the Cool Girls’ Club when you first arrived in juvie, I spent hours wondering what a club that promised love, loyalty, and friendship and to help one another unconditionally was like. I craved it.”
“Well, it's…,” she took off her boots.
“It's the love you showed us when we were inside, Hannah,” she said emphatically.
“Oh, no, I,” I couldn't resist attacking myself, “I was just…”
“You reached out to us and loved your podmates in a different way. We had our own genuine friendships, but you reached out to us and loved us without friendship first.”
“Michela?” I watched her remove a sock and her bandana.
“Quit interrupting me.”
Michela was soon on top of me with one of her socks in my mouth, her bandana as the cleave gag, and the other sock as an OTN gag. I was buck naked, bound, and gagged at Michela's mercy. While she tied me up, she told me more about friendship and the meaning of the Cool Girls’ Club to her in a spiritual sense. Joining the CGC meant a unification of spirit to her; she'd found friends who respected her, loved her in spite of her past, embraced her despite her faults, and welcomed her on her own merits. They wanted to see her be happy. In other words, they lived by the principles by which she tried to live through her religious convictions.
Now, Michela opened up about the feelings she’d experienced when “Daddy” tied her up the first time and how bizarre it was. Then she went into the humiliation of being forced to wear whatever clothes he picked for her and how she'd grown to detest any and all kinds of shorts. After a pause, something changed in her eyes, and innocent Michela, the hockey star, returned and described how her mind started deteriorating the night he first assaulted her. Then she told me about the threats to hurt Mom, Luisa, and Sofia if she told anyone about it and him taking her cell phone from her. She didn’t talk about the actual actions or bondage; she talked about what it all did to her.
“Hannah, today I learned my life still has value,” she said quietly, “That I don't have to hide from the world.”
“Awwww,” I was crying.
“I used to think that people would just look at me and instantly recognize me as the girl who shot her abusive father. Or that they’d hide from me because I was a convicted felon. Those girls know it all and love us as if we never did it all. We can talk about the past, but they only look at who we are right now.”
“Mmmmm,” I bashfully squirmed a little; she was right.
“Hannah, you made a lot of bad choices when you got out of prison but… They turned out to be the spur for the biggest blessings each of us has. Hannah, I know what I want to do with my life after just sitting at home and feeling sorry for myself for five months. I want to help girls like us who were incarcerated. Maybe be a lawyer fighting to make sure girls like me who should never have gone to prison don’t.”
“Mmmmmm!” I felt her passion; my sins had resulted in good for my friends!
“Now, let’s play the skirt and sheet game, hmm?”
You know the game I mean from before. I’m blindfolded with my own yellow bandana and have a washcloth against my crotch to soak up any orgasms I get from the vibrator, and I struggle to find Michela’s crotch and make her orgasm too. It’s the best game, and it is even better when I am gagged with one of her socks while smelling the other.
What an emotional day it had been for the gorgeous Italian and her girlfriend!
► Show Spoiler
Interlude 99: Letter from Jenny
July 21, 2013
Dear Hannah Bandana,
Forgive me for not being a better friend, for not doing more to help, and for taking away your Cool Girls’ Club Vice-Presidency. I never realized just how negatively it affected you until it was too late. I let my emotions break what had been a good friendship between you, me, and a group of girls who took an oath of love and friendship.
When you’re out, let me, Casey, or Nichole know. The Cool Girls’ Club awaits you with wide open arms. I can’t force you to let me make reparations for all the harm I directly caused you by my actions, but I would at least like to have your forgiveness for it. You deserved better than what I gave you. I remember that girl! She smiled and was confident and always thought of ways to make the games more interesting!
I don’t know if you remember Joy much since we only played with her one time, but she was in a terrible accident last weekend. A person who was texting while driving ran her over on her way to work. Somehow we got to talking about you, and she said she forgave you for your part in a weekend all (then) four of us made bad.
We love you, Hannah, and heard about your parents abandoning you. If you need help, I am here for you. The CGC is here for you. Love and friendship as expressed in TUGs, right? It is your choice, and we all hope to again play TUGs with you.
Love,
Gangsta Princess Jenny Kristensen
July 27, 2013
My response
Gangsta Princess,
I do forgive you, and I ask you to forgive me as well. I was a jerk and more, and perhaps I deserved this. I failed to show loyalty or friendship to Joy, and I’m sorry if I’ve caused her any emotional harm. I hope she gets well soon.
It’s been slow-going, but I survive. I have a cellmate I love dearly and a whole host of friends. I hope someday I can lead this exodus of crazy but, inside, good, convicts and felons into the Cool Girls’ Club. Honestly, the CGC is the kind of thing we all needed and never had.
Don’t be afraid to write me. Photos can be sent as long as they’re printed on the paper included in the envelope. I’d love to see a photo of the CGC again so I can remember what I’m missing and have a goal for when I get out. You girls don’t know it, but we do love, laugh, and cry just like you all do. We just can’t hug each other.
Yours,
Hannah
March 25, 2015
Michela always was a work of art even when she wasn’t modeling. The skirt, shirt, shoe combo was the real Michela, including the perfectly coordinating bandana, if she wore any headgear. I understood it had something to do with her dad, and she occasionally wore jeans. There wasn’t a pair of shorts to be found among her laundry. Tonight was one from her scenes: the orange skirt and bandana headband with the vertically striped shirt.
“Michela, now, we’re going out,” I said to my girlfriend after we had eaten her birthday dinner with her family.
“Are you taking me somewhere?” Michela asked, “And then maybe we’ll play after?”
“Yes, now… please trust me, because we love each other, OK? Will you do something?”
“All right. I’ll listen. What is it?” her eyes widened a little.
“Blindfold yourself with your bandana. Please?” I stared into her eyes with all my love.
“I can’t do that, can I?” a tear formed in the corner of her right eye.
“Michela, you can do it. I… we have a surprise for you. Something you will love.”
Michela started crying and hugged me tightly. She was scared and shaking and held me in a soft, childlike embrace. We slowly moved apart, and we kissed. With a deep breath and trepidation, she slid the bandana over her own eyes and held her arm out for me to lead her while letting out a fearful whimper.
This was difficult. The last time she was blindfolded was the last time her father r-ped her, and she strongly associated blindfolds with his molestations. This is why I asked her to do it, because I love her. She had to do it herself to associate the blindfold with me instead of him.
A short ride later, and we were at the skating rink in Minnetonka with me, Mary-Ann, Kendra, Casey, and Kylie all with her. We kept quiet so she’d think she and I were alone besides the other patrons of wherever we were. Kendra was filming this with her cell phone. Casey had to be here; it was her suggestion.
“Michela, put your headband back in place but keep your eyes shut,” I said to her.
“All right, Hannah. I know this will be worth it,” she did exactly as I said.
“Beautiful. Open your eyes.”
“Where are… we?” Michela's eyes grew wide before she dropped to her knees.
“Happy birthday, Michela!” we all said.
“I…,” childish wonder filled her eyes instead of tears, “You girls love me!”
“C’mon! Show us those hockey player moves!” Casey encouraged her.
“Thank you for being my friends!” genuine joy could be heard in her voice.
Michela needed all of two minutes to remember how to skate despite six years having nearly passed since the last time she played hockey. Mary-Ann was a disaster; Kendra was like a natural; Casey, Kylie and I were average. One by one, Michela took us by the hand and led us along, telling us how she hadn't been this happy since before her father started hurting her. It had been so long since she experienced that kind of joy.
“You know what you need to really win?” Kendra asked, “To really blast that d-ck out so your life is yours again?”
“What, Kenny? I’m all ears,” Michela said, barely caring about the past.
“You need hockey back in your life.”
“Come here!” Michela, her eyes full of life, hugged little Kendra.
Then, Michela took us aside, and for the first time truly opened up about her past and how much hockey meant to her and how much pain she felt when she was punished by being taken off the hockey team. There was more to Michela than even I knew.
Thank you Kendra and Casey. You saved my life, and you saved Michela’s too.
► Show Spoiler
Interlude 100: Letter from Mary-Ann
October 6, 2013
Dear Hannah,
Forgive me for taking so long to write to you. I’d been struggling with a little thing that we call homelessness, and I moved in with my sweet cousin Brittany. I finally got a state-issued ID, my driver’s license, and I am able to visit you soon. I’d like to visit you. Here I am! I load FedEx trucks and wash dishes for a living!
Don’t give up. Never. I’m a survivor, and you’re stronger than me. Fight, fight, fight, Hannah; I know you’re a survivor. Kendra’s a survivor, and she and I are working on some things together. It’s not easy for us because we’re both convicts, but Kendra’s considered a felon and still has to wear that ankle monitor until sometime in ‘15. She sends her love to you.
I can’t wait until you’re out. After so much time living together, I’m looking forward to finally getting to hug you and feel you and smell you. You’re a good friend, Hannah; we all made a few mistakes; keep up the fight. I see something beautiful inside you, and Michela needs you to stay strong. Ashley needs you more. Kylie won’t admit it, but she needs you, too. See you soon.
Love,
Mary-Ann Voisin (actual signature)
P.S. I used this font just to annoy you
October 9, 2013
My response
Dear M.-A.,
You’re a first-class jackwagon, you know that? Oh, yeah, I
love Courier New. I love it just like I loved gametime with Mr. Reardon. You’re the only person on earth who would send me a letter in that font; you’re also the only person on earth who can get away with it.
Ah, M.A., I miss your laugh, but at least you’ll visit. You’re such a sweet girl, and no one on earth can compare to you. Someday, you’ll be a mother, and you’ll be the best mother anyone knows. I am considering this as set in stone, got it?
It’s October, so I spent my points on a row of orange Peeps. I couldn’t resist. My only regret is that we can’t share because Michela got a row of purple with her points. Yes, M.A., that sound you hear is Michela ogling me.
Just three more months, my dear, and then I’ll be out! I’ll be living with my grandma at 78 East Cobb Street; yes, it’s Mudville. I’m marking that hug in my calendar so that I can imagine it and anticipate it and be disappointed when you hug me as warmly as a turtle.
Keep on loading and washing. When you break a dish, think of us back in the kitchen along with Kenny laughing and spritzing each of us. Send a kiss to Kenny for me.
Love,
Hannah
“Michela Palmeri, I love you so much,” I said to her in the bedroom that night.
“Hannah, I really meant it. I haven't been so happy in so long,” her eyes sparkled.
“Whose socks will you eat tonight? Mine or yours?”
“Yours are more special. Hannah?” I knew it was coming.
“Yes?” I prepared the gag, “I cannot answer that.”
“Why did he do it? Why would a man lust after the daughter that he helped create? Why would he lure her into a trap so he can bind her, gag her, and f-ck her? Why’d he do it not just once but repeatedly for 10 months?”
“Michela…,” I sighed and knotted the blue bandana around the sock, “I can't…”
“When I shot him, I intentionally let him live so that he has a chance to repent before he dies. Even Fr. Kelly has struggled with answering me on the spiritual side of it. I had to protect Momma, Luisa, and Sofia, but I still shot him. I felt freed when I did it, as if my future had changed from being a perpetual chew toy to possibly being able to make something of myself.”
“I don't understand,” I finished the gag, “Michela, stop talking about–”
“Maybe I’ll never know. I just know that I feel safe when you tie me up and gag me and fornicate with me. Someday, Hannah, I’ll let you read my diary. Gag me now.”
This is the most Michela has ever said about it. She is vulnerable. How can she let me tie and gag her when that's just how she ended up the way she is? Not only does she let me do it, but also she likes it more than ordinary sex although many nights we just grind.
Read her diary? Me? I couldn't, could I? That's her personal space, not mine. She didn't hide from me while writing in it, but it was private. That was her safe space. I could only be hurt by that, right?
I thought back to Ashley. Some days her mind is an absolute blank as if she went to bed as a little girl in France and woke up as a tween in a Minnesota youth prison, and other days she will quietly whisper some horror she experienced. My sweet Michela has a vivid recollection as if it all happened just this morning, and she has to bear that cross all the way to grave.
One sock was stuffed in the other, and a blue bandana was tied around the neck of the other. Casey taught us this one. Michela accepted the gag with the sparkle in her eyes slowly fading to be replaced by the empty void with nothing in the twinkle but lust. It was just what I saw at the Moreau’s a few days before this; the sparkle that is her soul. Several layers of duct tape kept her quiet. Strips were bad for her, but wrapping was OK.
Rope already bound her in a tight spreadeagle on the expanded futon, and the vibrator was already secured to her p-ssy. I opened her shirt and found there to be no bra. She knew something special was coming tonight and prepared for it. I gently fondled her bare tits and switched the vibrator to a medium-low setting. Then my lips met hers… then I was on top of her, grinding her…
Happy birthday, baby. I hope your first birthday since juvie was as special as you told everyone it was.
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Since we have run out of scenes for you to choose for Hannah, choose one for Michela!
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