I could fantasize all I wanted. My teaching partner, Rudy, had helped me move my desk to the back of the classroom during my planning period. I had m...intained that I could keep a better eye on my AP English students if I was seated behind them (as if they needed any guidance! Ashley Cummings was fast becoming the class scholar on 18 th century English lit and Bryan Montgomery was almost as knowledgeable as I was when it came to the beat poets). My cover story was solid though, and Rudy never. Finally, though, I decided it didn't matter. He'd shown himself able to manipulate me a good bit, but he hadn't wrought any basic changes; I was still the same Nick Volker I'd been before. So while he might have played with my feelings some and tweaked them here and there, they were still my own, and it was appropriate that I act on them without regard to my suspicions about their origin.And the mere fact that I could have such suspicions—as well as other (and considerably deeper) suspicions. Inside was a single urnial and a single stall with a pit style toilet. The toilet stall was made of plywood with 4 foot high walls and a plywood door that closed with a simply eye and hook latch. I decided to go into the stall and sat down on the toilet and dropped my pants and underwear around my ankles thinking I was all alone I leaned back and began to play with my cock. After a short while I heard the bathroom door open and soon A guy in his early 20's was watching over the wall as I. She didn't want to do anything to unnecessairly upset the slave keeper. She passivly stood still while he removed her transportation shackles. Then he removed the leash and finally the collar around her neck.She looked slowly up at him from under the locks of dark black hair that had fallen across her face. Her ruby red eyes begged for mercy from the man. She could see that he wore a leather mask. He had on shorts, sandals and not much else. From the size of his bulging muscles she had little.
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