Voices: Part 6 (Patreon)

“Hey Callie, where’s my blow-dryer?” Pruitt called from the top of the stairs, her hair a tangle of reddish brown waves.

“I was using it!” Came the answer from the bottom of the stairs, and seconds later, a skinny blonde wandered out in a pair of boy shorts and a camisole holding the blow-dryer in question. She bounded up the stairs energetically and handed it over to her mom.

“Hurry up, you’re gonna be late.” Callie said and then sped back down the stairs, narrowly avoiding a total wipeout on the steps when her sock failed to get any traction and slipped. A quick catch onto the railing saved her, but not before she yelled “OH SHIT!” at the top of her lungs.

Pruitt stopped moving for a moment to listen before peeking over the side of the bannister to see if her child was okay.

“Don’t die!” She yelled unenthusiastically once she was fully aware that Callie hadn’t killed herself running down the stairs like she constantly told her not to do.

(Dumbass)

“I know right? She’s gonna fucking kill herself one day, I swear.” Pruitt said, responding to the ever present voice in her head.

(Speaking of which, you’re actually kinda killing it today. I’m like…*so* proud)

The skinny redhead shrugged. She knew that she looked good. She’d spent a long time getting ready and applying makeup for her interview at the school that morning and felt pretty proud of her casual but still approachable look. Most women would have gone for something much more conservative, but after getting bitched at by her little “guardian angel” for over half an hour, she finally relented and went with jeans and a tanktop instead of one her old fat lady farm dresses.

(1)

(Not that one)

In the room below, Callie was modeling different outfits in the mirror. Several of them were cute, but a little mischievous and almost certain to get her sent to the nurse’s office to change.

(Fuck them. If guys can’t keep their eyes off of you then that’s not your problem)

The thought of wandering into class with her thin, toned belly showing beneath her flowing blonde hair and not-bad tits made Callie squirm a little as her body flushed with breathy arousal.

“NO! Oh my god just fuckin leave me alone for once!” She snarled into the mirror.

(I’m not doing anything, bitch. You’re the one getting your panties wet over impressing the football team)

“Oh my god!” Snapped Callie once again, her eyes going wide at her own reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair. “I’m SO not even into them, Oh my god.”

(Yeah right.) The voice laughed condescendingly. (Like you don’t spend all of PE staring at Ethan and Sean)

“You’re fucking stupid.” She said, rolling her eyes and doing her best to ignore the unseen commentary on her daily activities.

(Which one of them do you think has the bigger dick?)

There was a sudden burst of heat that trickled down from Callie’s head down into her spine at the thought of both of her secret crushes completely naked, posing for her with their bodies on delicious display. Even so, she removed her hand from the front of her shorts after it reflexively shot there after the wave had hit her. With a slight pant to her heavier breathing, she threw on a black pinstripe button down over her croptop and walked out to the car.

(2)

The two had stopped to get coffee on their way to the school for their respective days. Both of them thought it was a bad idea and that being late was only going to cause them problems. Still, that didn’t stop Pruitt from turning into the parking lot and walking in for a coffee, nor did it stop Callie from complaintlessly ordering her own when offered. Both of them imagined on some level that the other was experiencing the same thing, but despite several attempts and the best intentions to do so, neither of them had gotten around to telling the other about the respective voices they’d been hearing. Callie had never seen her mom so thin or trendy, and her boobs looked incredible. She’d tried over and over to push sexualize or physically appreciative thoughts out of her mind but that never stopped them from resurfacing. Pruitt too had realized that Callie’s sudden blossoming into such a vivacious and sexy little thing had to be the same as her own transformation, but try as she might, she could never bring herself to say anything about it when she felt the need to. Instead, the two of them carried on noticing with varying levels of concern, fear, interest, and shameful excitement while simply….saying nothing.

The mother/daughter duo conversed excitedly about upcoming events on the way to the school, then parted ways at the gate. Callie made her way to class, trying her best to not enjoy the stares she was getting as she sauntered through the halls, egged on by a nagging voice in her head telling her that she was being watched by every hot blooded male in the vicinity.

(Sean is walking behind you and so is Mr. Gudrie) The girly voice whispered to her from everywhere all at once.

(And both of them are staring at your ass)

Callie bit her lip and moaned quietly to herself, feeling her perky butt fatten ever so slightly the moment she yielded to the temptation and began swinging her hips to give the boys a show.

(Oh, look who it is. Little princess losing her crown?)

Callie smirked her way past an irritated looking Jennifer Munley, her body growing even warmer as she stuck out her chest and felt her boobs settle more heavily into her top. She knew everyone was watching her. Ogling her. Eyefucking her.

And she had to admit, she was growing to love the attention.

Pruitt walked into the registration office with a confidence she’d never known before. Maybe, she thought, that whatever the voice in her head was wasn’t so terribly bad after all. Granted she knew it had begun as abusive and upsetting, she could scarcely remember what it had told her that made her so upset. It called her fat, but at the time she *was* fat. It called her ugly, but before she started listening, she *was* ugly. Now she felt sexy, beautiful, and closer to her daughter than ever.

“Hey there! Are you here for a student?” The receptionist asked chipperly.

“Actually I’m here to interview for the counselor position.” Pruitt replied, holding back her own sly smile and channeling it into a polite expression as the middle aged receptionist’s happy smile faded.

“Oh.” The older woman scowled in a not so discreet manner that only made Pruitt more amused.

(3)

“Is…that a problem?” She asked, smiling sweetly at the woman who clearly disapproved of what she was looking at. Pruitt glanced down at the woman’s nameplate and added “Debbie?” for effect.

Debbie put on a fake smile and cocked her head slightly. “Well, it’s just that usually we like our interviewees to dress a little more professionally before they come in…yeah…”

(Shut this bitch up. You’re perf)

Pruitt closed her eyes for a moment and smiled back, nodding. “Well Debbie, can you tell me what is unprofessional about the way I’m dressed?”

“Well. Um. For starters…Uh, your umm…Your breasts are on pretty clear display. And you’re not really dressed for the job so-“ Debbie huffed, only to be interrupted by the young, red-haired mom.

“Yeah, you already said that. And if my tits are distracting you, then maybe you should stop staring at them before I report you for sexual harassment. I highly doubt that the school is going to appreciate hearing that their receptionist is making comments about women’s breasts as they come in. Or making comments about prospective employees before they even get inside. Perhaps I should ask for a report form while I wait because who the fuck asked you, *Debbie*?”

(Atta girl. Fuck that dumpy hag)

Pruitt smiled sweetly one more as the receptionist’s face began burning blood red just in time for a fairly attractive man with salt and pepper hair to walk out of the office with a manila folder in his hand.

“Um. Excuse me but I don’t care to be spoken to like that from some whore who walked in off the street with her boobs hanging out in a high school office building. If you want a job, I suggest you look elsewhere.” Debbie snarled in a low tone.

Pruitt pretended not to see the man and continued her assault. “Okay, so I apologize if my clothes are not to your liking, but the reason I’m dressed this way is because I’ve just moved from Wisconsin and have lost over sixty-five pounds in the past few months. It’s actually a medical concern for me and I don’t have the money to really buy many clothes since none of my regular wardrobe fits me anymore. What am I supposed to do? If you won’t let me into my interview what am I going to tell the principal?”

She made sure to make it sound as harmless and genuine as she could knowing now that she had an audience, but weak enough to entice Debbie to go in for the kill since backing down would make her believe she was winning.

“Oh don’t worry about that. You can go and find work that you’re more suited to so you can replace your clothes and I’ll just tell Mr. Tesuda that you cancelled. You can try again when you can afford to dress for the job.” Debbie said, her fake smile now back in full force.

(You’re such a bitch, I love it. You probably just got this chick canned)

“Or I’m about to.” Pruitt thought snarkily.

She looked up at the serious and upset looking man standing in the hallway and acted like she hadn’t seen him by popping up and trying to adjust herself to look as professional as possible, wiping away the crocodile tears she’d been building up intentionally while Debbie was chewing her out. She didn’t remember when she learned how to make herself cry, but it was certainly coming in handy at the moment.

“Oh!” She said, feigning surprise. “Um. Hi, I’m um-“ she stuttered, sniffling and exhaling sharply for effect. “I’m Pruitt Wilson? I was supposed to have an interview with you today…Not sure if that’s still happening now, but..”

“Oh, it is! It still is! I’m Jake Tesuda, nice to meet you.” He said, moving quickly to shake Pruitt’s hand. He swiftly pulled her into his office and sat her down before closing the door. Pruitt made a wicked mental note that he glared at the receptionist through the window before taking his own seat.

“I’m so sorry about the way my receptionist was talking to you, but could you tell me what caused that?” He asked sincerely, a fatherly look of concern on his face.

“She umm…Told me that I wasn’t allowed to come into the interview because my breasts are too large and that makes me look like a whore. I said that this is all I really have that I’m not just swimming in and she told me that she was going to tell you I cancelled on you.” Pruitt said in a tone that belied a sense of shame and regret along with shy gratitude for being able to tell her story.

(He’s totally checking you out) She heard the ethereal voice say.

She looked and it did indeed seem that he was staring directly into her cleavage as he spoke. The busty redhead made it a point to hold her arms in front of her to feign a chill as her nipples hardened from the arousal of knowing she was totally having her way with this man. She squeezed her elbows in and shook in her seat to tease him even more and was pleased to watch his eyes widen before he opened up the folder.

“So! Uh, Misses Wilson! What made you want to come work for us?” Mr. Tesuda asked professionally, clearly trying to brush off his conduct before the gorgeous woman in his office noticed him eyeballing her.

(He’s all yours. Make him think he can fuck you and this interview’s in the bag)

Pruitt grinned sweetly.

“Well, I’ve always loved children and I am told I’m a pleasure to have around office environments…And um….So you know…It’s actually *Miss* Wilson.”