) “Christ It’s hot.” Suzanne stood under the shower watching the dust and the dirt from their dry and fallow farmland sluice off her soft shoul...ers and follow the streaming water in sandy brown streams over her engorged breasts and large, sensitive nipples. Her daily walk, the exercise her husband and Master insisted on, took her almost a mile and a half around one of the barren fields. The lukewarm streams flowed together over the curved mass of her late seventh-month baby bump and converged. Her nipples were hard and pointed upward, quivering. She was both angry and frightened. She tossed back her curly hair and waited, gritting her teeth while the professor looked up her and down and smiled. Except for the sports bra she wore during the PE classes, Vixen seldom donned a bra and enjoyed the feel of her bare nipples joggling against the cloth of her shirt or sweater. So did most of the boys in campus. “Better,” he said and pushed a button on his desk. “You have some admirable. More

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