He kept talking of witchcraft and divination, and he tied me to a post and he placed a black hood over my head and he brought my remaining friends and...family in front of me, male and female, and he raped them; he tortured them, so that I might listen. He wanted me to admit that I was an agent of Satan and a murderer.A coward."She was seventeen years old," he screamed. "Only seventeen and you as good as killed her, and for that I damn you!"I denied it, of course. I swore to him that I knew. She needed the break.The break that the elementary teachers got wasn't as good as the ones the teachers got over in the high school; there, they got a full hour of break time each day -- well, a fifty-minute hour, and that was close enough, and they got lunch hour, too. The elementary teachers only got the thirty minute lunch hour, and sometimes it wasn't enough to recover and get ready to put up with the kids for the last couple of hours a day.Most days, Mrs. Clark was just happy enough to sit. I had obviously formerly seen the spa bath but had never observed it in ‘use.’A selection of preserves, cheese, and biscuits now materialized on the table, and these would be snacked upon for the remainder of the evening.As I sat at the table I was overcome with curiosity. I had never witnessed the spa antics before but having finally engaged with the ‘party stud,’ I decided to have a peek en route to the toilet, by peeping around the door closest to the spa bath.One of the men was seated on. Straddling over the back of the chair, rather than walk around, she sits down in a lazy pose, looking at the dark room across the way. Her hand raises to massage her aching neck and shoulders. Her body shuffles, relaxing a little more, as the hand lowers to rub her collar bone. Tipping her head back, her hand trails lazily down her chest, mounding over her right breast, through her thin shirt. She grips it, squeezing; gently. The other hand now raises to the other, joining in the same rhythm,.
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