Mr. Horner puts Kyle in his place

"OK, Kyle, I have you all figured out," said Horner.

"Oh yeah? I didn't know they taught psychology at janitor school!" said Kyle derisively.

"You LOVE the ballet," said Horner. "You wish you were a ballet dancer. Ballet scores like Swan Lake and the Nutcracker Suite is the only music you like. Since you are not a ballet dancer, you pretend to be this tough rebel kid. That is right, isn't it Kyle?"

Kyle lowered his head and scrunched up his face.

"Tell me if I'm right, Kyle," ordered Horner.

"Yes," muttered Kyle.

"Well, Kyle, it's not too late. Take ballet lessons. Practice, practice, practice. Watch DVD's of ballets. Go to the local ballet company productions. You also love to wear ballet tights under your clothes, and that's OK. You don't care who knows it."

Horner concentrated and shrank Kyle's dick a few inches too, and since Kyle had made that derisive comment, he added, "You also only girls who are sexually dominant and will boss you around and be rough with you in bed. You're a submissive pussy when it comes to sex. But you will NOT have sex until you are 18! That's OK too. Now get out and send in Megan!"

Kyle never looked up and left.

Megan stormed in and sat down. She propped her feet up on Yokem's desk and looked Horner in the eye. "You can't do shit to me!" she said. Her black hair hung in her eyes, she wore a lot of black eyeliner, lipstick so dark red as to almost be black, black lace gloves, a black tank top, a black denim skirt, black fishnet hose, and black boots.

"Oh yeah?" said Horner with a grin.