Emotional Boys 1990

01

"Fuck! Right there! Oh god, yes, master!"

Pouring myself a bowl of cereal, I watch the man cry out in pleasure from the confines of my TV screen.

There's a reason why everyone at my school pretends to like me but thinks I'm a slut behind closed doors. It isn't even because I'm taking notes from a porno for future reference. No one actually knows I do this, or that I'm fully enveloped in a life of BDSM. It's cause I dress incredibly sexual, and I don't get dress coded for it, why?

Lincoln High School is an utter shit hole. Sure Warren is a slightly better area in Detroit, still doesn't change how almost everyone there is a druggie or moron. Most of everyone is failing; if you're not, the school faculty bends at your will. They just need a select amount of smart kids to parade around as their mascots. Unfortunately or fortunately, I never decide, I have amongst the highest grades of everyone in school. I'm asked daily to help teach things in class and explain concepts; if not, I can't help raising my hand to answer.

It's not hard to cheat, though I don't need to, I don't see why the other kids don't try it out. They could actually be going somewhere based on false premises, but they choose to get high instead. Oh well, I won't judge, I have a worse addiction.

Need I remind myself that I'm taking notes from a BDSM porno.

Oh well, if I keep thinking about this shit I'll be late for school and god forbid the golden child who dresses like a 'whore' is late for class in that shit hole. The teachers don't ever dress code me despite my tight dresses and fishnet stockings. They know I can take away their claim to fame instantly. Without kids like me there, only being about three of us, Lincoln High School is just another shitty school in Detroit to add to the list.

Today I'm wearing a cropped top with a low cleavage, and a fishnet long sleeve shirt underneath. I'm wearing a pleated mini skirt that reveals most of my garter belt. Finally, I've got thigh highs on and a pair of black platform boots. I'm already five-eleven and the extra height makes me more intimidating, I love it.

Pushing the envelope is my favorite, no teachers will talk to me about it and no guy will get handsy unless he wants to fucking lose his hands, and everyone at school knows it.

I throw my flip phone in my bag quickly before zipping it up and turning off the TV, pulling out the disk, and sliding it back into the book. I will not say the name of it, but common of pornos, the name is corny as hell. I grab my Walkman from my kitchen counter and put it on, heading out the door quickly, swaying my hips and enjoying the feeling of another day in my perfect life.

I have issues with somethings here and there, but I really can't complain about much, I live on my own after my mom passed, I have a good job as a bartender at a strip club and I can find any dude I want to play with. Having been both, being a bartender at a strip club is far better than tending anywhere else. The guys leave major tips if they think you're hot... so essentially, I get tips from every guy.

"I used to think that the day would never come... I'd see delight in the shade of the morning sun" true faith by New Order plays as I hum along, walking down the shambled steps attached to my trailer.

I get only a few mindless steps around 'my property' before I lay eyes on the back of a guy curled up on the ground. He's wearing some insanely baggy grey sweatpants and a large navy sweater, covering the back of his head with his hood.

I pull back one of the muffs on my Walkman and wearily step closer, strolling around him to see the front of his body.

Oh shit, it was the guy from yesterday that went off on me... well, he had it coming.

I assume he was just beaten, not surprising for a white dude on this side of Detroit... or 8 Mile as we usually narrow it down to. I assume it was the guy he got in a spat with from earlier, coming back with his friends maybe for revenge.