She watched carefully, licking her lips anxiously. She even expected what would come next: she knew her Master well, and now she understood the goal o... the last few weeks of training. She said nothing, hands folded in her lap as he spread a towel over the center console and her eyes got large as he covered the naked metal shaft of the shift lever with a rubber phallus-shaped device. It was covered with rubber studs at irregular intervals, and from each of the studs, a small tip of metal was. The same hands tugged my t-shirt back down where it had lifted up during the removal of the sweatshirt.The sweatshirt was slipped over my head and I blinked my eyes open. Tara stood above me. She was spreading the sweatshirt out in her hands and examining splashes of paint on it. Dan’s strong arms were wrapped around me – they’d shifted around, cooperating with my de-shirting, but they’d never let me go.“Don’t touch me,” I murmured, pushing feebly at the arms. “It’s all ruined. Don’t touch. The school mandates the type of bra and even the style of underpants that we had to wear. As you might expect, they were what the kids call "granny panties" today--all the way up to your navel white cotton underpants. Girls were required to wear a bra beginning in the sixth grade. Of course, it didn't matter to the nuns if you needed a bra in sixth grade; you would wear one. That was the rule. Our dorms were not separated by age groups. Some girls had room mates that were three or four years. I guess pore ole Shep didn’t neither cuz he got some of it too. Next thing I knew was somebody had ahold a my ear. Ole Mr. Simms heard the ruckus an’ come out. Well the ear hurt so I reaches up to grab what’s aholdin it. I didn’t know the stuff was stuck all over my hand. Now Mr. Simms is stunk up too but he ain’t lettin’ go o’ my ear, no sir. He’s mad. He takes me home holdin me way out an’ still not lettin go o’ my ear. Well, Mr Simms was where he could kinda wipe his feet on the mat. I’m.