Your usually morning dred of getting up and going to work is starting to ease with each passing morning lately. This particular morning your feeling...especially frisky, maybe even a little mischievous and decide to take full advantage of one of your last remaining days to torment the poor adolescent boys in your class that have been drooling over you all school year. You know you love it. You still get that tingle down there and smile to yourself when you think of all the extra long. My palms began to sweat. Fear. Anxiety. Shame. The glances out the door. Someone must be watching, or listening. They would laugh soon. A prank. Or a trap. It’s just chemicals. Just a bunch of stupid chemicals pulling up pictures from your memory. Associations. Something like this. Something cruel. ‘Professor?’ She was looking at me, concerned. False concern? Mocking me? How long would she draw it out? Until I thoroughly embarrassed myself? What was the expectation? That I would get excited at. More

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