Beth -their teacher, Mrs. Simmons - had told me this question might come up,that one of her students had a father in prison. I figured this must beher..."Well, it's simple," I told her, crouching a bit to get to eye levelwith the kid. "See, it used to be that way back in the day, we had tobuild these big giant structures for prisons. And prisoners would walkaround and have their own cells and there was a lot of fighting andbadness and no one really got _helped_. But these days, we put aprisoner's. She knelt there, her hands behind herhead as she had been trained, while Sir fondled thelittle cage that encased her sissy clit. It left hersmooth sack free, and his warm hand cradled herlittle balls, squeezing them more and more firmlywith each grasp. She flinched, and he squeezed themhard enough to make her bend over in pain. With thathe slapped her hard across the face. “Bad form, youlittle bitch!” he said angrily. “Let’s try thatagain.” And he went back to. More

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