He poundedall the man out of me. Made me a bitch. I need a man to control me andkeep me as his bitch. I want it to be as obvious as this blue hair. Iw...nt to wear my status for all the world to see. I see no limits.The chills return and I scrunch up in my seat as my body surrenders tothe tremors. I use a meditation technique to calm down. The tremorssubside. I feel no more a man today than the Hispanic mom does. I feelcloser to her for some odd reason than I do the three white kids downthe other. ”“I bet they’re the battle flags. They aren’t mostly white, are they?”“No; red with the blue cross and stars and small white stripes.”“That’s the battle flag. One of the things Mr. Black taught us was that what everyone calls the ‘Confederate flag’ was never, ever the official national flag. It was a battle flag and a naval ensign. The actual, official flag had a rectangular version on a white field, or later, with a white field and a red vertical stripe.”“Mr. Black? The English teacher?”“And. Miss Dubois paused by the bathroom in the hall and asked if she could use it and handed me the briefcase. While she was occupied, I sat the case down, washed up, poured two glasses of lemonade and went into the family room. I sat in my usual chair after placing her glass on the table next to the couch.Inside the case was a single manila folder. The twenty page report was closer to a timetable of events than any report I had heard of. The first section was Dad’s spectrographic analysis. Not that. "really, what about now, are you wet?" I asked putting my arms around her and licking down her neck. She stood back away from me looking at me. She says. "im dripping, my panties are soaked. Would you like to see?" She asked grabbing the straps of her thong. She turned around rubbing her ass against the bulge in my shorts, I reached down and around cupping her breasts. Her nipples were hard against my fingers. She was tugging her thong out from the crack of her perfect little ass and peeled.