. and she was blue, huh?" Ricky grinned at me."With tits that taste like rootbeer!" Danny giggled and I frowned at them."Shut-up," I said."You're so f...ll of it, Matt." Ricky slugged me in the arm."Fuck you!" I punched him in the thigh."Knock it off back there!" Mrs. Hailey, our English teacher, turned around from the whiteboard she was writing on. "Mr. Ford, is there a problem?"She was staring at me and I shook my head."Good ... Now, the difference between a simile and a metaphor is..."Blah. ”“Can’t it wait, boy?”“No, Sir. Swear down. If I don’t go now, Sir, I’ll piss myself, Sir.”The class roar with laughter. Sir tells everybody to be quite then he tells Brad to mind his language.“Sorry, Sir, but I really will wee myself, Sir.”Brad’s now squeezing his willy through his jeans.Sir lets him go. Before Brad goes he tells me to follow him in a couple of minutes, says he’ll be waiting for me in the bogs. He leaves the classroom and after convincing Sir that I too am close to wetting my. I am but one of nearly thirty male slaves here. Each ofus is standing on our toes with our hands held by handcuffs behind ourbacks. We stand on our toes because each slave's balls are held tightlytrapped by a steel ball which is suspended from a cable. The cable isattached to a long pole that is about six feet above our heads. Thecables have been drawn tight, thus forcing us to stand very still onour toes. This stance helps relieve some of the upward pull. The painis not great, but the pressure. ” Jessica began.“Jess, you are NOT helping!” I barked, interrupting her. “Stop it!”I saw her face, set in stone, in the rearview mirror and knew the only option was to call Alex and tell him we weren’t going to make it, go home, and try to resolve our fight. I pulled out my mobile, pushed the speed dial for Bucktown Bistro and put the phone on speaker.“Bucktown Bistro!” Sam answered.“Hi, Sam. It’s Steve Adams. We’ve had a bit of a crisis and I need to cancel. I’m very, very sorry, and if Alex.