She tried writing, but the lines faded before she could get much written. Then she pressed harder, hard enough to make her wince, and her sharp nails ...ade thin welts on her skin. She noted that while painful, the sensation was also sexually arousing. She got up, and stood in front of her dresser mirror. She pulled the tee shirt over her head and looked at herself, imagining what a man would think of her like this, naked, and vulnerable. She tried writing again, on her thigh, pressing hard. One night before she arrived I wrote a fun a exercise for her in a notebook.A creative writing page with simple answers that covered the basics.What is your name? How old are you? Where do you work?What are you? Anal Slut. What is your favorite position? Doggy Style.Where do you want the cum? circle (Ass) or Mouth. Do you love it? Yes.There were more questions like that I don't remember anymore.I had her sign and print her name, tore it out, folded it up, and we went on with the routine.I kept. I mean, it's not going to write itself, right?Pete: Here, here!Alan: She says me being on this sex fantasy site can only lead to no good. She says pretty soon I'll be hanging out with a bunch of perverts.(There is a murmur in the crowd.)Pete: Uh, we don't like that word here.Bob: No, Sheepy-p*o does not like that word. Would you like to touch Sheepy-p*o?Charles: Uh, Bob. Not everyone shares your fantasy about gang banging your inflatable sheep. Please.Bob: But Sheepy-p*o would like that.Alan:. My teammates seemed perturbed I was hogging the ball. I told myself was trying to get us to victory, but the truth was by not looking for the open player or developing passes to lead to easy volleys I was hurting the team.Shots were bouncing off the rim and I even had two air balls. I wondered how this could be happening to me. I was the darling of the tournament and my picture was on the front page of our hometown newspaper. The more shots I missed the more perturbed I got. I started taking.