My eyes traveled between the computer monitor in front of me and the notebook on the desk below. I was exhausted from the hours of work I had sunk int... my masters thesis.The passage of time seemed to have no meaning in the archives. There's no clock upon the wall, there's no window for a person to see the position of the sun in the sky, just row after row of document shelving, and obnoxious track lighting above. I began to think that I'd spent about enough time here this afternoon, a thought. ‘We could go ten feet to the left and climb an easier route’, a part of me says, ‘There’s no disgrace in leaving it for when you’re good enough. Look at it – it’s way too hard for you. How many climbs have you done at this grade? Come on, think of Nick, it’s his neck too, nobody’s going to think less of you for exercising judgment…’ I hate that voice. I want it to shut up, and then I see a slot for a small nut and it does… With some protection in place I can think about the moves into the. She eventually came down dressed rather sexy in my smart black pants with hills and a blue button up shirt of mine. As she saw what I was wearing she called me a sexy slut. I could see she wasn't wearing a bra and her hard nipples were prominent through the top she was wearing, she walked up to and placed her hands on my ass. Looking each other in the eyes she asked if I was ready for her to punish me, as I was dressed like a whore. I said I am indeed. She asked why I would have such a short. "I was dismissed from her presence with a wave of the hand and I again hadto follow Ms Smythe out of the room but instead of going back to thekitchen, I had to follow her through a door under the great staircaseleading up from the entrance hall. This flight led downwards, was muchnarrower than the main staircase and spiralled in the same fashion as Ihad seen in church towers, only in the opposite direction. At the bottomwas a heavy door that Ms Smythe had to unlock with an ancient.