Miserably, the boy sobbed, “Why are you looking at my thing, Miss Janine?” It looked delightful, twitching as he clenched and unclenched his butto...ks in anticipation of pain. The head overshadowed shaft. “I need to be certain you haven’t emitted a little semen, dear. Some of the boys do at this stage, and I can’t have you dirty my stockings or soil my thighs. But you’re still dry, so bend over.” I patted my legs where the garters snugged up my dark brown stockings. “OK,” he sighed, and bent. Then, louder, "You don't have anything to apologize for James. It's just a shopping list. I'll tell you what to buy." That was it. Not one word about my profession of love. I felt lower than worm shit. Worms do shit ... in a way ... but if you want to have more details, you'll have to hit your web browser.That afternoon was the ending of one phase of our friendship, and the beginning, though I didn't know it at the time, of another phase of our relationship. Like a small set of data, and a. More

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