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Is their mere presence my punishment, or is it something they’re going to do?She didn’t have to wonder long, for she heard more rustling, the clink of metal, the abrasion of cloth sliding against cloth, and the thud of vestments falling to the ground. They’re stripping. That means... “No, please no,” she whispered, genuinely afraid. Not of the sexual demands they were likely to make of her, nor even of whatever punishment Dûrthéod had in mind, but of the increasingly public nature of her debasement. Are these my own people come to bear witness to my shame? Will they participate in it? Is that my punishment, to be revealed as dissolute and sex-crazed as a common harlot? To lose any hope of respect?Dûrthéod remained behind her, his tone even more threatening than usual. “Your suggestion, while appealing, lacks originality. Of course I’m going to fuck you, slut. But I have a more amusing game in mind. A particularly interesting form of torture.”Torture! she shuddered, quailing.Hands. As I knew her only from pictures a was watching all girls and lady's walking in my direction and after a while i found her beautiful face. She was wearing a light summer dress with flowers with fitting shoes and a hat, pulling a big luggage behind her. I will never forget this picture and the smile on her face when she recognized me. She looked so beautiful and fresh like no other women on the world.We hugged and kissed each other like friends who did not meet for a long time and i took her luggage while we walked in direction of the car and chatted about her trip. In the car I asked her if she likes to go for a small lunch before we return home and she agreed. The restaurant was close to a small lake and we found a nice table close to the water on the terasse. The waiter noted our wishes and let us some time - we looked probably like a couple in love, even when I was a bit older than her. While Natalie was talking about her earlier live she gave me her hand on the table and we.
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He looked back at the long road in front of us. I had been talking to him about the trouble I was having in school. Paul Garrett was a year ahead of me and seemed to be the star of the whole school. That would be Ok except he was blaming me for something I was sure he did. He said he saw me pour dye in the school swimming pool. When it happened I was walking home from school. We live three miles outside town. No one saw me walking home. I had no alibi. Dad had been called and told about what I had done before I even got home. I walked into the kitchen and he was sitting at the table with Mom. They looked up at me and asked what I had done after school. ‘I dropped the books at the library and walked home.’ ‘Go anywhere else?’ He asked. ‘I stopped ay Mr. White’s farm and watered a tree, Sir.’ ‘The principal of the school, Mr. Morgan, called and said you were seen pouring dye into the swimming pool.’ ‘It wasn’t me, Sir.’ ‘I believe you. He says you’re guilty. We have to both go to.

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