Her musky scent was ambrosia to my senses, and her taste was intoxicating. She cooed and moaned at the attentions as she applied more and more spit to...her throbbing erection. "Good boy. Now stand up and pull down your pants." I did as I was told. Finally my own hard on was able to breathe. She looked it over, seemingly uninterested. "Turn around." I knew what was coming. Reluctantly, I did as she said. She put a hand on my upper back and angled me forward, against the blackboard. I heard her. Although it was early afternoon, Emerson crawled into his bunk and slept. It was the next morning before he woke. His face was purple and swollen. He could not touch it without pain. When he sat up his head started spinning and he became nauseous. Pat Casey came in to see him as he lay on the bunk. ‘You’ll have to lay in bed another day or two. That must have been some fight! What set it off this time, Emerson?’ ‘Boss, he was saying things I couldn’t take, and he thought I would be afraid to. More

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