The bell rang and the hallways filled with chatter and laughter. I grabbed my jacket off the hook and took a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket. There was a piece of paper stuck to the box that read: I want to be Your slave.
WTF!! Was this a prank or something?? I looked around and over my shoulder, in the hope that the perpetrator was watching. Why on earth would anyone want to be my slave? What did it even mean?? But there was no name on it, so I decided to ignore it. Which was easier said than done, because the more I tried not to think about it, the more I did. Did Michael write it? Bobby perhaps? Or was it William the creep?”
I went home with an headache and blamed, needless to say, my parents for that. I went to bed early and forced myself to think of something else. I had just closed my eyes to go to sleep when a thought hit me like a bolt of lightning: Did one of the girls write it perhaps?? Stephany? Or Claire? Or was it Ingrid, who could not stop staring at me?
I pounded my fists on the bed in frustration. I hated this! If they had something to say to me, then why not just say it! Whoever wrote this note, needed a severe spanking. And I was more than be happy to administer it! Far away, in a remote corner of my soul, a seed called FemDom opened up and began to grow.
Mistress Charlotte

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