Dark Blue - Part 1

#4 - I Ain't Lyin'

John Lennon's life was often speckled with sorrow and loss. At the age of five, John was raised by his stern auntie, Mimi, his mother's sister. Nether one of his parents could manage to provide a stable home for John at the time. Ultimately, Mimi stepped in to do the job for the both of them. John's parents parted ways and were often absent in his adolescent life. At 15, John would suffer one of he first greatest losses in his life; Mimi's husband George Smith would die that year due to a sudden hemorrhaging of his liver. He collapsed on the floor right in front of John where he was soon after pronounced dead. John would often look to George as a father figure, a relationship he had held so close to his heart.

Shortly after Georges death, John would reconnect with his mother. Their love for music and the zest of life would bring them closer than ever. Julia would eventually provide John with a free spirited environment where he could create his own art, music and poetry. John would often retreat to the carefree home of his mother when he felt the weight of Mimi's world tying him down. Unfortunately, at the age of 17 John would again endure another loss, the one of his own mother. Julia had been hit on foot while crossing the road by a drunk off duty police officer en route to Mimi's house for tea.

John found the loss of these two most prominent people nearly unbearable. He started to fill his life with sex, alcohol and all night parties. Nameless women and cheap thrills speckled his life as he became numb to the reality that is life. It was at this time that Mimi had enough of John's erratic behavior. For his own good, Mimi forced John to make something of himself. Being a student of high marks, it was only natural for John to continue his studies after he had graduated. Because of this, he became immersed in the art culture and its freedom of expression. He gravitated toward artists who broke boundaries and rebelled against the system. He saw a lot of himself within those artists. Because of this, he wanted to share with the world his love of art and the meaning behind it all. These passions lead him to teaching. In retrospect, he owed a majority of his success to his aunt Mimi, though he would never express it to her.

But inside, something was missing. There was a void John couldn't fill, not matter what he tried. There was always a dark side to John he would have to hide. He often reveled in the feeling of power and dominance. He was very possessive of his love interests and would go as far as stalking them in fear that they too would one day leave him. This often left John single and lonely.

John never intentionally looked to hurt anyone, but as his first three years wrapped up as a new teacher within the walls of Calderstones, he often found his temptation for younger women hard to resist. The first time it had happened, he swore he would never let it happen again. But that didn't last very long. What started out as a few blow jobs in his classroom turned into groping sessions in the janitors closet to late nights with rough sex and drinks at his flat with his pick of any underage women he would pursue. He had the looks, the body and the wit that could charm any woman he wanted. John found that the younger these girls were, the easier it was to manipulate them, to make them do things that were ordinarily considered taboo or forbidden by most older women his age.

This became an addiction to John; the thrill of the chase. The idea that he lived a life of duplicity; that he was a teacher and he sexually could dominate any girl he chose, it excited him and gave him a thirst he never knew he had. He wouldn't stop he couldn't. He had a taste of blood and he wanted more.

It was then that he has met Priscilla. She has sauntered into his life when he was at the peak of his illicit desires. She came across as so innocent, so perfectly corruptible to him. To make matters worse, he had never seen a young lady so ravishingly beautiful. It was as if she was untouchable. This drove John wild. He had tried and tried to make subtle moves on Priscilla since the first day he laid eyes on her. He became more frustrated as the weeks went by. He spent the entire 40 minutes of class trying to hide his hard one every time he allowed his eyes to follow up Priscilla's legs to ultimately land in-between her thighs. His stare would dance across her breasts as he studied her breathing and noticed the rise and fall of her chest. These indulgences would often leave him with his hand down his pants, locked in the men's room in desperate need for release. He had never been rendered so helpless in his life. Priscilla's blatant disregard for his advances was causing him to go weak with lust and angry with determination.

He wanted to punish her, he wanted to teach her a lesson she would never forget.

-

Priscilla's smiled dropped as the words fell from John's mouth.

"I want to punish you Priscilla. You've been a very bad girl." John smiled as he pressed himself hard into her thigh.

Priscilla's eyes widened with fear, "John, your scaring me. Please stop."

"Don't play with me Priscilla, I know as much as you do that you want this." He said as he grabbed her hand and placed it on his erection that was now uncomfortably confined in his pants. "Don't fuck with me." He hissed pressing his nose against hers so that they were now pupil to pupil. Grabbing a handful of her hair he smashed his lips to hers, nearly suffocating her with kisses deep and violent.

Panting with fear and excitement Priscilla began to moan as John began to grind his hard dick against her panties.

"Look at you." He whispered as he traced a finger down her delicate cheek. He then slid his hand up her skirt and found the wetness between her legs. "Yes, that's it baby, look at how wet I make you." He said as desire dripped from his voice. He then harshly slid two fingers into her core. Without hesitation he began to pump her with his fingers harder and harder making her grunt with pain. "Do you like it when Daddy fucks you with his fingers?" he questioned sadistically.

Priscilla mentally froze, everything was a blur up until this point. Things were moving so fast, she hardly had a chance to register what was going on.

"What... did you say?" she stammered.

"Say it Priscilla. Say you like it when Daddy plays with your pussy." John said through a sinful grin.

Priscilla moaned in response.

"Say it!" John shouted as he then harshly slipped another finger inside of her, pumping her harder and harder.

"No!" she cried, a mix of pleasure and pain.

"Fucking 'ell. Tell me you want your daddy to take his cock and fuck your tight, wet, pussy." He tried again.

"No!" she said not giving in.

"Stubborn one aren't ya. Well Priscilla you're going to be sorry you said no. You made Daddy very upset. And you know what happens to bad girl's when their Daddy is upset with them?"

Priscilla held John's stare. Somehow she knew he wouldn't really hurt her. Somehow she knew this was something deeper, she knew he felt it too. She knew she wasn't just another girl. Priscilla was almost positive John was rarely challenged by a woman. As angry as he became, she knew he liked it.

She then spit in John's face. "Fuck you John Lennon, I will not say it!"

John then abruptly pulled his hand from out her core to abruptly slap her on the face. Smacking her own cum across her face at the same time. Priscilla fell from the couch and onto the floor as John stormed away into his bedroom and slammed his door shut.

Stunned, Priscilla clutched her face. After a few minutes of sitting on the floor, the stinging on her cheek had subsided. She slowly started to stand up and pull her dress down from above her knees. Should I leave? What if I was wrong? What if he will hurt me? She thought.

Priscilla slowly started to gather her things. She glanced at the closed door of John's bedroom with a sigh. He sure was a complicated man, she rationed with herself. Yet she stood there, clutching her shoes and gloves in hand, staring blankly at his door. What's wrong with you, girl?? Just leave! Report him to the police, he's obviously crazy, she began to rant in her head. Yet she stood there, disheveled with her planted feet into his plush carpet.

With one last glance she felt herself began to turn and walk out his front door. "I've got to go to the police." She muttered as she struts onto the concrete sidewalk.