Her new life was melting, heading for the sewer. Her stomach churned. The smiling professor put down his folder and said, “Take off your sweater, yo... little bitch. I want to see those tits I’ve been admiring since September.” He looked very serious. Vixen stood and turned toward the door. “Do you really want your father to go to jail for the rest of his life? Do you want to forfeit that fat bank account and your nice, red car?” She sat back down and stripped off her sweater and dropped it on. Her blonde hair had a hint of blue in it. “Good morning, Twain” she said quietly, wide awake “Have you slept well?”My mind was full of panic; had I said anything out loud, was I panting, bucking, sweating, ejaculating? Did she see my erection? I patted down my covers, trying to check everything was discrete and in order. I could feel the heat in my cheeks. My body was sweaty. Nothing but my face and arms seemed to be exposed. I was scared, but had no immediate proof I’d been rumbled. Until:“You. More

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