And the good thing about Father Hamilton was that he hated to give sermons. It was always straight to the punishment."Over the desk, Amy."I knew the d...ill. I bent over his wide desk and lifted my skirt—they weren't supposed to touch us except with objects—exposing the seat of my white cotton panties. It was a typical school uniform, navy skirt, white blouse, white knee socks, Mary Janes. We looked like drones running up and down the halls on our way to class."For every blow, you must say an act. The temperature gauge read twenty degrees Fahrenheit and I knew that the wind was brisk. About one mile down the road, I had second thoughts about the wisdom of my adventure.The wind was blowing hard and my bike was stiff because of the cold. From previous winter rides, I knew that the bearings and other moving parts would become less fluid because of the low temperatures. The bike was harder to peddle. Shifting was even harder. I eventually made it to the trail in the woods. Once there, at. More

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