dirty converse

I had the worst crush on Mrs. B. It was in her class that I learned that I have a fatal weakness for redheads. I loved to watch her move through the room. She wore skirts and dresses that were too short for female students, but no one complained. It’s just who she was. She had lovely legs, no reason not to let the world see them. When she wore pants (they were just recently allowed), they were skintight, revealing a cute tight little ass. Tops were also tight, often with some cleavage showing between her pretty B-cup breasts.

“Now, what’s in here, I wonder? Liquid pleasure, which will enslave your mind and bend you to my will for the rest of your life, offering everything you have for another taste? Or maybe it’s a vicious toxin that will have you screaming and writhing in pain, biting your wrists in an attempt to kill yourself, with every second feeling like a lifetime spent in the heart of a bonfire? Pick a vein, and let’s find out. Or…” He brought the needle right up to her eye, making her shudder in terror. “I can always go in through the mucus membrane. Yes, that sounds like fun. Now take a deep breath and think of home.”

Watching him work, the expertise at his fingertips, it was like watching a masterful performance. Even the act of dissection was artful. He was so knowledgeable, so capable, and he would explain how he used these techniques in the past to help people. My fear quickly turned to admiration, and I realized that Lord Noah could not be judged by such terms as good or evil. He is neither black nor white, but gray at both its darkest and brightest, a gray as deep as the ocean.