It wasn't as she thought it would be. After the way he had masturbated her, his gentle touch, she thought he would be different, more lenient, more at...entive. But he was yelling at her. "I'm sorry, Headmaster Michael. I kept thinking about what you did to me yesterday," she blurted out, almost immediately knowing that she shouldn't have said it."So it's my fault that you can't pay attention? I tried to be nice to you and now it's my fault!" his voice became louder. They always did this, he. ‘I just can’t let you into the stacks without a proper ID,’ the librarian said as she peered at Jim over the tops of her bifocals. ‘You know me,’ Jim pleaded, ‘I’m coming back in the fall.’ ‘I believe you,’ she said. ‘But if you want to go upstairs you need a valid ID—or a pass from a faculty member.’ ‘A pass from a faculty member?’ Jim asked. ‘Why are we arguing? I’ll be back in twenty minutes.’ ‘Tell him to use this form,’ the librarian said and handed Jim the remnants of a half-used pad of. More

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