Lindsey's Turn

Wanting to keep up her excellent grades, Lindsey was eager to babysit Gina that night, but everything needed to be just perfect.

Lindsey was a useful asset for Gina when Gina was still running the show, Susan may have been tasked with finishing Gina's homework, but Lindsey was the worker drone actually producing the content as Gina would need Susan free for her whims. Lindsey did the work, Susan operated as courier, Gina was free to torment others on her path to being queen bee and maintaining that status. How else would Gina have had the time to stuff Marcie's ass, feminize Cutie, and sabotage Lauren?

At first Lindsey wasn't on board to violate academic ethics, but powers of persuasion were brought down on the hopeful valedictorian. It was simple enough in early grades to steal her back pack, take the only copy of finished homework, but soon the teachers were just accepting that Gina was turning in Lindsey's work and assign credit accordingly. To really motivate the damn nerd Gina's gang of groupies **** Lindsey, classic black bag overhead, second location, rough rope bound hands. When the bag was pulled she was in a little metal shed that had a blackboard sitting on the concrete floor.

"Because of your obstinate ass, I had detention, writing lines, as it's your fault that my homework isn't being finished, you will write your own lines for me." Gina declared, taking a price of chalk and writing at the top: Gina needs her homework done well, and I am happy to do it.

"Wh-where am I?"

"You're in fucking detention and you will write this line until I believe it." Gina snapped, slapping her across the face. Gina then grabbed Lindsey's chin and shoved the chalked in her mouth.

"I have guards that will be posted outside the only door. Someone will check on you in an hour. Your parents think you are at a sleepover. Oh, and because I am a kind and considerate person, I brought you a snack."

Lindsey was struggling against her bonds, the chalk spat out from her mouth as she looked up at Gina, who had a bag of....rice? Upending the bag the grains scattered across the concrete floor of the prison, between Lindsey and the blackboard, and between Lindsey and the only door.

"I'm nice enough to put the chalk where you need it, and you spot it out ungratefully. Great job making your detention harder. I expect 100 lines in one hour, or your detention is going to get much, much, worse." Gina threatened, turning to the door and leaving. There was sunlight, foliage from trees, and the backs of two people. Lindsey didn't know at the time, but that would be the last glimpse of outside the metal shed she would have for 18 hours.

Her wrists together, her ankles together, and a line connecting both, she couldn't get off her knees. There were no windows, and no way to track time. Supposedly her work would be checked in one hour and all she had was chalk and loose raw rice. Was Gina serious about them being a snack? Maybe if she managed the lines Gina would let her go. She needed the chalk, rolling onto her side, Lindsey got her mouth on it, and straining against the bonds she corrected herself back to upright. Then she needed to crawl to the blackboard.

Rice stuck to her knees and shins, then she realized the rice's purpose. Multiple points of hard contact made the smooth concrete floor an agonizing surface. There was no "comfortable" position. Hundreds of pin pricks put pressure on Lindsey's joins as she brought chalk to board, moving her head to awkwardly write out those 13 words.

At what was either one hour, or five, Lindsey was in tearful agony. 20 lines had been written, a nubbin of chalk layed in a pool of spittle. The concrete was lightly dabbled in splashes of red blood. Lindsey was laying on her side exhausted.

Lindsey couldn't remember who had woken her up by dumping cold water on her face, dropped 5 peices of chalk by the board, and left, but it was apparent that Gina was not bluffing. She wanted 100 lines at the one hour mark, would Lindsey be trapped until she did 100 or did she now need to do 200? Her legs hurt, her shoulders ached, her mouth was dry with chalk, but she did not want to die in a metal shed.

18 hours later, after sleeping in her own filth, writing 500+ times Gina needs her homework done well, and I am happy to do it, in improving but shakey mouth-driven penmanship, Lindsey would have said Gina made the sun rise to get out of that prison, and while Lindsey physically left, scars healing and fading away, Lindsey had kept doing Gina's homework because she never mentally left that shed.

Now Lindsey needs her homework done well, and Gina would be unhappy to do it. She was going to make certain of that.