It was when Mr Grey, a classics teacher, got a job at a girls boarding school that he developed his nervous twitch. Him trying to supress his urge for their young, fresh bodies caused him to sweat and shake. He didnt know how much longer he could fight it , he pressed against a light skinned beauty, maybe sixteen years old. She tried to turn away, but became infatuated with his strong presence. His strong presence was like that. It was a sort of masculine tide. If he put his leg up on a chair or a fireplace then it's strength was unstoppable. And this sixteen year old gir l had flaming red hair and matching clothes on. Was he dreaming or what? She sang "This Girl Is On Fire" as she cooked rabbit stew for them both. He hadn't requested any food! The sway of her hips told him not to read into anything that she said as consent for him to be doing what he was doing now. If she chose to give consent, it would be explicit. Unti l then, he would not be permitted to do that to her leg. It was a double-standard, her provocative flirtations toward him, but it was her consent, not his, that counted for anythin -g. That, and the fact that she had bore nine of his children and he hadn't changed one diaper. But that's what she deserved for being flirtatious, I guess. Still, when he looked at her with a sneer curling his lips, she decided that she'd finally had enough. In one smooth motion she whipped off her bra and wound it around his neck as a makeshift garrote. He struggled, falling to the ground as his face changed colors like a chameleon. And then, all was silent. The woman stood and bowed to the applauding audience. Curtains close.



1 LordVacuity's photo

How close and how many?

2 Woab's photo

Third row. Two.

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