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Her fingers froze."Does it help, Naya? Seeing your fellow slave naked before you? Does it give you courage? When you answer me, call me Master. You must do exactly as I say or you will be punished. Even though you failed to take off your clothes as I commanded, I know that you are new to this. I am not without feelings of mercy. But you must show me you are trying. Are you giving this your best effort, Naya?"The brunette nodded, biting her lip. "Yes…Master. I…I can't though. I'm almost naked as it is. But in front of everyone? It's…it's not right." Society has taught you to be ashamed of your own body. Don't speak to me of what is 'right' or 'wrong' slave. You have been programmed, and I am trying to de-program the harmful things in your mind. Now do what I say. Take off what remains of your clothing. I would see the real you - a naked, pristine Naya, a slave of unrivaled beauty."As he said the words, though, Damian gently did the work for her. He unclasped the bra strap, sliding the. "How is everyone doing tonight?" The class grew silent, an air of tension quickly filling the wide open great room. "Okay... this is the quietest I've seen you guys. What gives?"Oddly enough, it was Allison who spoke first. "Nerves," she said, a slight quiver in her voice.The professor leaned back and grinned. "Nerves? Is that true?" he asked, looking around the room. No one either confirmed or denied his question. "Come on, contrary to popular belief, I don't bite." He chuckled at his own lame joke. When he got no reaction from the class, he moved on. "Who'd like to go first tonight? You'll read your story aloud, and then your classmates will offer their thoughts. It's really pretty harmless."Erica nudged Mandy's arm. "Go on, Mandy," she whispered. "Your story's hot!" Mandy blushed. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed," Erica whispered into her ear."Seems like you've got a bit of a fan club already, Mandy," Professor Salinger commented, folding his hands on his lap. "Would you.
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Kissing her fingers then, and the backs of both her hands, one after another, he had told her: ‘It’s just that any men who aren’t like me tonight must surely be miserable. And I surely do pity them!’ A lonely sea gull swooped mere yards in front of Lance’s down-turned stare, shaking him from his morning dream-like stroll. The big toe on his right foot missed the bird’s milky deposit by only a few millimeters. He turned around to see that he had left a fresh trail of footprints nearly a hundred yards long. Better head back, he thought, or I’ll end up in Hilton Head. Walking more quickly retracing his path, he felt a sudden faintness, almost dizzy, but no where near a black-out, even though he had never in his nearly forty-nine years had a black-out. He often had these sensations, as a diabetic might have when the sugar count goes down, but he was not diabetic. And being in perfect health, he was not prone to even petite-mal seizures like someone prone to high blood pressure might be..

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