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Chelsea rolled over in bed as the late morning sun finally started to filter in through her window. Her phone buzzed with another unread text message, and she groaned. “No,” she muttered as she pawed at her phone, fearing it was her summer job asking her to come in, “It's my day off.”


The pale young woman curled up into the fetal position for a moment, and clutched her pillow close. She hoped that if she were simply unwilling to face the day, it would go away and let her sleep. Instead though, her phone buzzed with another text and she heaved a sigh before pawing away at it.


Gripping the phone in her hand, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stared at the screen. Most of the messages were dumb nonsense from Liz, who was at work that day and apparently bored out of her mind. Her latest text promised a funny picture in a few minutes, and Chelsea could only wonder what it might be. The other bundle were from Bill, her sort of boyfriend. They both had decided that since they were seniors and they'd be going away to college, being committed to each other was just sort of dumb. Not that either of them had anyone else, or wanted to actually stop seeing each other.


So, when they had the time, they would hang out, and do... other things.


Apparently Bill was also free. The text was about lunch, but Chelsea had a feeling the boy had other things on his mind. Frankly, Chelsea could use the release too. Her summer job was driving her nuts, and college still seemed like it was never going to happen despite her parents insisting that she needed to start buying stuff for her dorm room. She just needed to do something like... well, Bill seemed pretty good.


She fired off her response, not quite telling him that she was still laying in bed half-asleep but implying that she needed to take care of herself. Chelsea wasn't going to really primp herself for Bill, especially not now that he was trying to grow out a beard for his freshman year of college. Still, that didn't mean she'd show up without a shower.


Sliding from her bed, she carefully walked across her room, stepping over discarded shoes and clothes. “I really need to pick up around here,” she muttered to herself as she entered the hallway.


Her shower was quick and refreshing, and she felt like a new woman as she walked back into her bedroom with a fluffy towel wrapped around her. The first thing she noticed when she walked into the room though was the silence. Chelsea didn't get ready for the day in silence.


Crossing her room in four quick strides, she gripped the cage that dangled from her ceiling and shook it violently. A pale little brunette released a frightened yelp as she was roused from sleep and forced to gaze into the face of Chelsea Dewinter. “You should be singing, little bird,” Chelsea snarled at the shrunken girl. Annie had become her little songbird after the fateful day where most of Hayes High School had shrunk. Normally, the small theater nerd did what she was supposed to but she was starting to become lazy in the past few days.


Chelsea stood there and watched as the tiny woman scrambled to her feet before bowing so low that she nearly scraped the bottom of her cage. She then stood up straight, cleared her throat and began to sing. The music was bright, the lyrics foreign, and Chelsea found herself actually enjoying it. She had never really been a fan of classical music until she had forced Annie to start singing for her. It was mostly all she knew how to sing, but more often than not it sounded great, which was all Chelsea really asked for.


Dancing away on her bare feet, Chelsea shed her fluffy towel, and opened up her drawers before sliding on underwear and a bra. She then flung open her closet and grabbed a simple band t-shirt and a pair of pale denim jeans, before her eyes narrowed on the small freshman she had kept around to clean her shoes. “My chucks better look fucking nice, Freshbug.” The small girl rushed to where they sat, perfectly preserved thanks mostly to the girl's tongue and one of Chelsea's old shirts. Picking one up, she inspected it for scuffs and dirt marks but smiled when she found none. “At least you always do your job,” she said with a roll of her eyes and a glance to the cage that hung from her ceiling.


After slipping on a studded belt, she walked over to her desk, leaning down to check her email and Facebook very quickly. She quickly scrolled through the sites, all the while ignoring Ms. Cavelli, who was being punished again for trying to escape. This time, Chelsea had tied her up and dangled her along the backside of her computer tower, making sure that she fell right next to the part of her machine that got the hottest.


Chelsea snapped on a studded bracelet to complete her ensemble before turning around and opening the top drawer of her nightstand. Once the drawer had contained a cute little journal and some very girly pens, then Chelsea would often just leave whatever piece of cheap genre fiction she was reading in the drawer, but slowly as she grew, the drawer had become for her sex toys. It's not like she had a lot of them, and nothing too out of the ordinary either, except for one thing.


Her pale eyes lit up and a smirk crossed her face as she stared down at Jenni Fitztaylor, her high school nemesis. Chelsea barely even taunted the girl anymore, she didn't need to but sometimes she certainly wanted to and that's all that was necessary for her to unleash a string of humiliation on the girl. Today though, she just reached down and grabbed her. Squeezing the girl, Chelsea told her, “I'm going to go hang out with Bill, grab some lunch and a little afternoon delight.” She giggled as she smiled, “I feel like it's been forever since both you and Frank were in the midst. Like, way too long.” Instantly, the small blond was trembling, and Chelsea just laughed before stuffing her into the pocket of her tight jeans.


It seemed like her day off was going to be a pretty fine day after all.

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