Thread: Be My Lolita (Kratos and Mim)

Right, sorry, Nora chuckled seemingly nervously when he pointed out that she would have to tell him where she lived. I'm on Baymont Street. It was a decent neighborhood, not in the poor part of town, but definitely not upscale either comfortably middle class, though hiding nefarious secrets as most suburban cul-de-sacs seemed to. Nora knew that if her home--with her seemingly perfect PTA pill-popping mom and her well-respected, pillar-of-the-community pervert of a stepdad--was mistaken for normal then there were likely other secrets hidden behind other doors in her neighborhood. Mr. Richards down the street, for example, loved to be dressed up in his wife's lingerie and spanked though Nora would never tell his wife that. In times when she felt a little guilty about breaking up marriages or leading to betrayals of trust Nora always reminded herself that she was a product of her environment, and besides if these men were being satisfied at home then they wouldn't be attracted to a sixteen-year-old girl. She liked sex and the power it gave her, and there was nothing wrong with that they were the 30-year-old perverts fucking underaged teenagers. And Mr. Marintine's resistance, his insistence that he was married and the implication that he loved and was content with his wife, only made Nora want him more. Whatever she was to him, Nora knew that she could be better, sate him more, show him worlds he never even knew existed. She needed to be better than Mrs. Marintine. Your first name is Seth? Nora smiled sweetly and pushed another piece of rain-plastered hair off of her forehead. She'd known his name was Seth, but pretending she didn't would be the easiest way to come to a first-name basis with him. Once he allowed her to call him by his first name, he belonged to her she would make sure of it. Another silence ensued, followed by him mumbling about his wife. How long've you been married? she asked then, cautiously, what's her name? I'll bet she's absolutely gorgeous, if she's married to you. Knowing his wife's name would give her access to his personal life, a look into his marriage, an in to express concern for his wellbeing if ever it seemed his marriage might be suffering. Men liked to have someone to lean on, no matter what they said to the contrary. The more she knew about his life outside of school, the more power she could wield and the more tightly he would become wrapped around her little finger. When Mr. Marintine--Seth--asked her whether she had planned to walk, Nora shrugged. I wouldn't have had any other choice, she pointed out, watching the rain come down in sheets on the windshield. I'm just glad you were able to give me a ride. Don't worry, Mr. M, it'll be our little secret. She reached over to the hand on the gear shift and curled her pinky around his. Pinky promise. She let her finger linger before dropping it and watching the rain out the window as they drove. Finally, per her directions, they came to a tidy house on Baymont. Nora left her bag in the car, promising to come back for it once she'd tried the door. Running to the front door, she made a show of looking under the mat where the spare key was usually kept--and still was though blocked from Seth's view by her body--before running around the side of the house. There was another key under a flower pot by the back door but instead Nora loitered, folding down the waist of her skirt once to simultaneously lower the waist and raise the hem, before returning to the front and racing to his car. She clambered into the front seat, once again soaked and squishing in her shoes. She wrung out her hair into the towel he'd given her and looked up at him with a pretty little pout. I'm so sorry, Mr. M, but would you mind giving me a ride to a payphone or something? Sh--I mean, crap! Nora smacked her forehead with the heel of her palm. I don't have any spare change. Maybe like a gas station where I can just wait for my mom then? she asked, intentionally naming a place it would be unsafe for a girl to wait alone. All the doors are locked and I forgot my key this morning. I'd have to stand out in the rain. I'm sorry, Mr. M. I don't mean to be such a pain. You're probably eager to get back home and start your weekend with your wife.