And some would gothe extra step, forcing me to work on my hands and knees, legs wideapart, just to mock my genitals.My humiliation would continue at n...ght, when I would come home and haveto perform the duties I had learned in front of my lovely wife. I hadlong stopped calling her by her first name, Andrea. Instead, now sheforced me to call her Ms. Beringer, her maiden name. In time, as webecame more Parisian, she made me call her Madame Beringer.Nighttime would come and there was no relief for. Thisstory is a work of pure fiction. No buildings mentioned here exist at WellsCollege at the time of this writing. No people or animals were hurt in thewriting of this tale. Beware of my use of historical characters in slightlydifferent roles. See if you can spot them all. I am side stepping here. ThisPart one of five. The StartHello people. As Director of Special Operations for the Wellman Clinic, I havemany tasks. One of the more unpleasant ones is internal security. No one likesthe person. She said this:“As I was looking around, shared to my stomach, all the greedy men were looking at each and every part of my body. All I had to cover myself was, my head cover, bra, panty and slippers. Ahmad was thinking with his right thumb and index fingers on the sides of his chin while the ugly old man (say “Imad”) was rubbing all over my body, greedily. I was so disgusted but there was absolutely nothing I could do, except moving around a bit. He squeezed my boobs and butt repeatedly and. He stares at her; noticing her nipples through the material of her flimsy t-shirt. She is cold from the morning air and she is obviously having a deeply arousing dream, for she is moaning and squirming. He notices a coy little smirk on her lips. He grins. He takes the skillet and begins to make breakfast. He is cooking eggs and bacon over the open flames and turns to make certain she is not disturbed. He grows increasingly interested in her dream as he hears her moans intensifying. He.