It started with Big Red, and my parents thought it was the caffeine that made me crazy.
By then, it was too late. I was pretty much addicted to the dye, Lake #40, but I didn’t know that at the time. There wasn’t a Dyeters Anonymous, where I could stand up, and introduce myself.
“Hello, I’m Lucy, and I’m addicted to artificial Strawberry flavor.” After my folks cut me off, I found another way to get it. Strawberry soda (Caffeine Free!) Strawberry candies, Strawberry popsicles… I thought that was my favorite flavor, but it turns out that I was addicted to the dye.
It made me manic, and hyper. Giggly, and prone to meltdown if I didn’t get what I want, or they tried to make me calm down. Sit still, they even diagnosed me with ADHD, because I always got a can of strawberry soda with my lunch, and then had to go back to class high, and wired.
It wasn’t until I was a young adult that I found out what was causing the problem, the itches, and eventually nerve pain of adult fibromyalgia. Of course, that’s not what you came here to read about, but somebody noticed my problems at school, and took advantage of it.
He was my school councilor, in middle school, and at first he guessed that I was acting out to come see him. Then, I don’t know when, he seemed to have figured out what caused it, but he didn’t say anything to me, my parents, the school nurse, or anyone.
Instead, if I was good, he would reward me with a treat. By then, I was such an addict that I would do anything, but it didn’t turn sexual for months, because he had all year, and took his time seducing me. Okay, grooming me, but at the same time, I was 12, and going on 13. My body was starting to go through changes, and the hormones didn’t help the mood swings from my drug one little wee bit.
If anything, it was another thing to blame them on. “Oh, it’s the caffeine, or the sugar, or she’s just Hyperactive, or hormonal.” All I knew was that I could skip lunch to go talk to him, and then get my fix, if I was “Good.”
Of course he noticed the changes my body was going through too, so he made me talk about it. How I felt about wearing training bras, until I moved up to A cups, and got real bras. “Uh,” I got uncomfortable the first time he said it, but then he opened his drawer, and pulled out a handful of suckers.
These were the kind with a loop in the bottom, instead of a straight stick, but I jumped up, and he said “Ah ah ah!” And covered them up with his hands. “I forget, which flavor is your favorite?”
“Strawberry.” I sat back down, and nodded. Answered his questions, obediently, while he talked about my breasts, my period, and when I could expect it. Whether I was sticking tampons in there, or just wearing a pantie liner, in my underwear, right up against my little virginal cunt.
He didn’t say it like that, of course. He used health class vocabulary words, but that was his favorite subject, not mine. He didn’t say “It’s okay, I’m a doctor,” but he wasn’t. He was just Mister Rodgers (No relation) then, “It’s okay, you can call me Wally. You don’t mind me calling you Lucy?”
I shook my head, even though the other girls, sometimes made fun of my name. They didn’t mean anything by it, it was just friendly middle school teasing, but back then, a girl wasn’t Slutty, she was “Loose.”
Whatever modesty, or discomfort I felt, talking about my body, and my privates wasn’t as strong as him holding out the strawberry sucker. “Suck your dick for a lollipop?” Well, it didn’t take long for the weather to change. After winter break, it got rainy, then dried up, and spring started heading toward summer, but by then, I was used to him having the heat on, in his office.
Another thing that I didn’t think about, until years later, but once you get used to the vent blowing behind you, you just tune it out. Especially when you have something more important on your mind, like being good for Wally, to get your treat.
He started taking his tie off, before I even came in. He didn’t unbutton his shirt, in front of me, but he knew I wasn’t going to miss our appointment, so by the time I got there, it was already unbuttoned. Then a little lower, and a little lower, until one day he took his shirt off.
“Come in, sit down.” He wiped his face on his teeshirt, and he was so sweaty, I could smell it. “Almost a hundred today, but if you get hot, I don’t mind.” He laughed, “I’m not going to report you for breaking dress code.”
He pulled out his desk drawer. “Go on.” He pulled out his hand, but I could hear the plastic crinkling, and he palmed it like a magician. Then, he turned his hand around slowly, and I don’t remember if I drooled that time, but it wouldn’t be the sucker. First thing, he always waited until we’re done talking, and the bell rang to reward me, so I could suck on it while I ran off to class.
“Here.” He touched my back. “Let me help you.” I just unwrapped the sucker, and stuck it in my mouth. Chewed it while he untucked my shirt, and then stepped back. I knew what he wanted, hell I’m not stupid, and he was pretty subtle about it, but come on. He’d been talking about my body, and underwear for months. Asking me if any of the boys noticed, or I liked one in particular. If I wanted him to kiss me, and take me out after school…
So, I took off my shirt. “There,” he smiled, and sat back down. “That feel better?” I just smiled, with the sweet film still sticking to my teeth, and staining them pink. Then, we just talked, me in my bra, and him in his ribbed white cotton tank top. A “Wife beater,” but of course, he wasn’t a wife beater. He wasn’t even married, and there were rumors that he might be a homo, but the truth was he liked us young.
Not too young, he wasn’t a pedophile, or he would have gotten a job at a grade school. He was a Hebephile, attracted to adolescents, and adolescence. That’s why Health Class was his favorite subject, it was as much about the changes in my body as my body itself. Yeah, I was young, but I was growing. I had little boobs, but they were getting bigger, I didn’t have much hair on my snatch, but I was growing more.
I didn’t care, all right? He had what I wanted, and I knew what he wanted, but that first afternoon, we just sat there, and talked, until the bell rang. We didn’t even talk about my body at all, but he looked up at my face. From my chest, to see how I reacted, or to make sure I knew he wasn’t lying, but we talked about other stuff. Boring stuff, I don’t even remember, because we’re way past talking about my tits.
He was looking right at them, then the bell rang, and I hurried to put my shirt on, but before i left, he stood up. He had a tent pole in his pants, but he didn’t try to hide it. “Don;t forget your treat,” he held it up, then smiled when I looked up at his face. Of course, I got a double dose, and I had something traumatic to not think about, so I was wired, and I acted out, but he thought of that, too.
He talked to my teacher, who didn’t want to stay behind after school to watch me twitch, and fidget. So, he offered to watch me for detention instead. Then, as soon as she left, he picked up his briefcase, and got out his keys. Said “Come on,” and locked up the classroom right away. “I’ll take you home.”
He didn’t of course. Not right away, he took me for a drive, up into the hills, and parked at one of the overlooks. A make-out spot, i guessed. Of course, I’d never been up there, but I’d heard about it, I didn’t have a boyfriend, with a car, or even a driver licence, because i was 12, and not dating teenage high school boys.
He told me it was okay, he knew I couldn’t control myself, and he didn’t have to tell anyone about it. Which didn’t just make me feel “Uncomfortable.” it made my skin crawl, and the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I got a chill, and shivered, so he asked if I was cold, and put on the heater.
I said, “No,” and turned to the window, but it was too late. He had electric door locks, and a child safety switch, so I couldn’t open the door from the inside, even when i tried to unlock it.
“Sh, it’s okay.” He squeezed my shoulder, “Relax, there’s nothing to be afraid of, it’s me.”
I didn’t know what to do, so I let my body decide, and it chose nothing. Just froze up, and went numb. Let go of the useless door handle, and let him pull my arm away, gently. Turn me back the other way, and I was actually relieved when he didn’t go for my chest, but instead, he touched my jaw. Turned my head with my chin, and I closed my eyes right before he kissed me.
“Smooch,” just a quick peck on the lips. “There, that’s not too bad, is it?” I just shook my head, just like I had a hundred times in his office to get my fix, only this time I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t look at him, and I felt so ashamed. So stupid, and I realized what I was to him.
His sucker, his strawberry. His fix. He didn’t rape me, but he could have. He didn’t even make me touch his boner, nor even whip it out, and show it to me. He didn’t make me open my eyes, and look at him, thank God. For some reason, that was the worst thing, that I was terrified of, that he would make me look at him, when I couldn’t stand his eyes.
Not no more, because the last thing I wanted to see was what always puzzled me. I’d seen it before, every time I was alone with him, and like the heater blowing on my neck, i just tuned it out. Thought that’s just how he looks, not how he looks at me, when he’s got me alone, in his office. Until that day on lunch, when he got me to take my shirt off, I just didn’t know what that was, but now that I did, the last thing I wanted to see was his dirty disgusting Lust.
He just touched me, felt me up through my clothes, then took me home, but that was bad enough. Then, I lied for him. He said that he wouldn’t tell anyone, my parents, his bosses on the school faculty, but I didn’t, because I was too ashamed. I felt so dirty, and disgusting, no amount of showers would wash it off, and ironically, I “Got better.”
So, I didn’t have to go see him, I quit eating fake strawberry lake 40 anything cold turkey, because it just reminded me of what I went through to get it. So, I never saw him again, I stopped acting out, and started trying to hurt myself. Cutting myself, and hiding the scratches, thinking about one day maybe trying to go through with it, but I never did.
I know that’s not what you came here to read, because you’re like him, aren’t you? Aren’t you you sick fucking perverts? Well, I’m sorry, it’s not sexy at all.
It’s the truth.
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Author
No it’s not. I made it all up, it’s a complete fantasy, but Lucy isn’t going to sugarcoat it, so it’s sweet enough for you to swallow.
It wouldn’t be in character.