1. Trust


    Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Shemales, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    was fully dressed, I looked at Nancy's picture, my eyes streaming, and told her &#034I don't need you, bitch!&#034 Cigarette number seven sizzled out against the flesh inside my arm, and I curled up, sobbing. The original plan at that point called for me to undress with six more fiery stops. I justified cutting straight to throwing everything away by the reasonable argument that I didn't want to use aversion therapy for taking such things off. Well, I didn't, did I? Trust Part 3: Know Thyself I made a hell of a mess in the bathroom, too. Cheap beer. I usually drink imports. This stuff was just supposed to put me under though. It did, but my system had sustained enough shocks that it decided poisoning was going just a bit too far. It was a good thing that the next day was Wednesday. I had one class, an upper-level course, and office hours, but that was it. I called the secretaries and told them I was sick. By midafternoon the hangover was mostly gone, the bathroom was reasonably sanitary, and I'd cleaned the broken glass out of the frame that held Nancy's picture. I was sitting in the kitchen, chain-smoking and morosely considering the consequences of using that hypodermic needle that was lying on the table, when the door rang. I thought about ignoring it, but it was probably the damn yard man. He wasn't worth a damn; he cleaned my yard whenever he needed money, not when the yard needed cleaned. So he'd done the leaves, finally, in January. Brilliant. Now he'd come and ...
    expect me to fork over cash, since he at least had the sense not to try cleaning things when I was around to tell him I wouldn't pay him. Sourly, I started for the door, and remembered that my wallet -- my new wallet, genuine latest women's fashion -- was in the car. I was so sure it was him that I just flung the door open, expecting him to understand I was in a bad mood. It wasn't him. So, okay, you knew that. I'm a little slow on the uptake. It was her. I had to choke a sob, but I got my composure fast. &#034Whadda you want?&#034 &#034Isn't it a little cold for shorts and a tee shirt? I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd drop your clothes off.&#034 I must have flinched or something, because she clarified, &#034The ones you wore to school yesterday.&#034 Okay, we were pretending to be polite, were we? Mechanical smile. &#034I've been inside all day, it's warm enough. I've got some of yours, too. Wait here a minute.&#034 I felt a slight thrill of exultation in being able to close the door on her, to make her wait on the steps. Good thing I'd taken off those clothes before I'd gotten sick. I found them, shook them out, and carried them back to the door. Her face went back to an expression of complete neutrality as soon as I opened the door, and I wasn't sure what expression it was chasing away. &#034I was going to bring them by the school, but they told me you'd called in sick.&#034 &#034Burns,&#034 I said, feeling a little smug at being able to tell the truth and make her ...
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