“Of course not,” he said. “I don’t *want* to shock anyone. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just doing what it takes to keep us all safe.�...She wanted to believe him, he could see.“I didn’t take off any more of your clothes than I had to,” he said. “See? You’ve still got your crew skirt and your panties.”She looked down at them, and back up at him. “Thank you,” she said, with genuine gratitude.“Thank you, sir,” he corrected gently.“Thank you, sir.”“If I let you go, are you going to help me and. He, of course, was mortified with their gift, but not because he was fearful of his mother, because he wasn’t; but because he didn’t understand why she wouldn’t strip for the boys.It was what women did, wasn’t it? They were sex objects, weren’t they? It was why God had made them with breasts and pussies and legs and asses.Every morning William’s mother stood in front of the entire school population in school assembly wearing her black teacher’s gown and with her day book in her hand and her. The most coveted was that of ‘public escort.’ Not just anyone could get that. A guy had to be absolutely good looking in some way or other… the romantic sort, the rugged sort, or have some kind of ‘theme.’ And there were times, certain timing or ‘finicky’ emergencies we will call them, that any guy that met a certain level of ‘credentials’, ie: intelligence, acceptable looks, knowing how to be there and be inconspicuous, so as not to steal the stage from the princess-to-be, could be. Offering it now to him, she held it up like a squire giving a weapon to their knight, smiling pathetically through her tears. "S-sweetie, won't you use this on me? I'd love it if you'd take it." Pushing it forward more insistently, her voice whined with desperation as Guy merely looked down at her, blank. "None of them would have let you cut them! Not like me, I'll let you, I'll be your snuff slut, I'll be anything you want please just take it and fucking stab me please!" Shuffling forward.