Slutsville diary - P1 - The kindergarten teacher.

I lie in bed here, drained of my vitality, after a whole night of unbridled passion. To me, the real world is just a blur and I am who I am in spirit - a slut and a glutton for punishment. I have been here a week now. In this one week, I've see the doll that covers my spirit get abused, tied, gagged, whipped, clamped and gang-raped. But, it is the strain on my spirit - a strain from the pain, sorrow and deceit so nakedly evident in the people I meet here - that has made me yearn to reach out to the real world. I can only reach out to the few people, who, I know for sure, will not judge me.

Some of you have l'll toddlers of your own to worry about. You would want the best for them at every stage. You would ask around and finally choose a kindergarten school that best suits your child's needs. The teachers there would probably be the kindest souls you have ever met, always with a charming smile and an unlimited reservoir of patience and energy. I met one such soul when a group of us went skinny-dipping on a hot afternoon. I was, of course, the first one into the pool. After many whistles and catcalls, this teacher, V, felt a connection with the loudest nutcase in the pool, me, and swam over. We talked about a lot of stuff, likes, dislikes and absolute turn-offs. One thing led to another and we ended up in bed. The love-making that followed was one of the most intense and passionate I've had. And, in between gasps of delight, I got to know the real woman. Earlier in the pool, when asked what her turn-offs were, she had said animals, children and bathroom stuff. I took it to mean doggy-style, catholic school girl role-play and sex in the shower. Now she elaborated. The four years, from twenty to twenty four, when you are out of your teens but not just a woman yet, she worked her way through college as a slut. She figured there were enough sorority parties where she ended up in bed with some complete stranger, so why not actually get paid. She advertised in local dailies and only took requests in the other end of town. The money was good. It paid the bills. But, ofcourse, there were the occupational hazards. She met men who wanted to watch her do their children or their dogs. They wanted her to urinate and defecate. She still had some of the scars from those days, and not just on her body. Today, at thirty nine, after a stint of management jobs and a nice little nest-egg of stable investments, she is, sort of retired. Teaching at the kindergarten school, she says, is her therapy. Some habits die hard though. She hates one of her co-workers, a real bitch, so she gladly screwed her husband. She has a regular group of swinger friends, three married couples. The Christmas night ended up with her doing it with all three husbands while the wives watched. She has known a lot of men in her life - bosses, plumbers, soccer coaches, pizza guys, bankers - but none she felt she could enter a commitment with. Fault, she says, may be her own - she just dosent know what it means to trust someone anymore. Later, as we lay there in bed, held so close to each other, the gulf that separated our lives felt the widest.

With every day I spend here, my life in the real world feels so blessed.

Thank you .. for just being there.

Laila