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Rebel Leader
Staff member
Execution by crucifixion??? How absolutely retrograde! But then again this is modern day Belarus, isn’t it? Maybe not so far fetched after all?

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
“Miss Ekaterina Novikova you are hereby sentenced to death on the cross, killed by crucifixion so that your body can suffer in accordance with the relevant stages of execution identified in the study, and provide proof of the theories previously established.”
Well now. We can't stand in the way of significant scientific research, can we? :rolleyes:
"Get the bitch onto her feet, we are not finished with her yet …”
Somehow, I already knew that!;)


Execution by crucifixion??? How absolutely retrograde! But then again this is modern day Belarus, isn’t it? Maybe not so far fetched after all?
Valid point Barb, but the study by the Belarusian University Is Genuine, and so a 'closed set' Crucifixion to enhance the study and get justice for their Diplomat is seen as very opportune ...


Interesting, but (for a scholarly paper) the grammar and usage are atrocious. Even if the authors weren't English speakers, they should have gotten a better translator.
Well to be honest it's a pretty left field subject for a scholarly paper, period. The link was included simply to add a little authenticity as to why the Belarusians would even consider death by Crucifixion as a feasible way of awarding judicial punishment this day and age ...


Tomorrow Sexpionage begins the most harrowing part of Ekaterina’s journey. She has been sentenced to ‘Death by Crucifixion’ and the clue to the story’s content is very much in the name. However, there is more to this than meets the eye.

The Death Penalty per se is still very much ‘alive’ (if you pardon the pun) in Belarus … Capital punishment is a legal penalty in Belarus. ... The death penalty can be imposed for crimes that occur against the state or against individuals. A few non-violent crimes can also be punishable by death. As of 2021, Belarus is the only country in Europe that continues to carry out the death penalty.”

Of course, Crucifixion is not amongst the options normally in use. However, given that the study of death on the cross by the Vitebsk State Medical University was based entirely upon theoretical assumption, the opportunity to deliver revenge fuelled justice at the same time as offering the study a practical insight was just too good an opportunity to miss.

So, the Crucifixion of Ekaterina Novikova was meted out as a sentence by a closed court attended only by the prisoner, her guards and several judicial officials. Equally her execution will only be witnessed by a chosen few.

Whether Belarus can keep the event, that would be deemed an outrageous international incident if exposed, under wraps, is another matter altogether.

But for now, poor Agent Novikova wallows in her grimy cell …

See you all tomorrow.

Wallowing in her cell.jpeg


Rebel Leader
Staff member
Equally her execution will only be witnessed by a chosen few.

Whether Belarus can keep the event, that would be deemed an outrageous international incident if exposed, under wraps, is another matter altogether.
Well, for starters, the entire membership of CF will witness it (that is unless Belarus can coerce convince special agent Barbara Moore, who is embedded as a sleeper in the administrative structure of CF, to reprise her 2013 sabotage of the site to affect a crash). So, whether Belarus can keep this under wraps is, in fact, highly questionable (largely so because Barb has a reputation for screw ups). Time will tell.


Death by Crucifixion (1)

Solitary Confinement dungeon at Minsk Detention Center No. 1
, Pishchalauski Castle Prison, Minsk, Belarus.

The girl gagged. It was the only sound she could make with a solid erection fucking her mouth. They had warned her not to bite. ‘If we so much as feel your fucking teeth …’ were their exact words. They need not have worried because the girl was exhausted, she did not have the energy to even think about chewing off the cock that was currently impaling her throat …

01a - Fucking her mouth.jpeg

“Take it bitch, oh fuck yes take it all …” The man at her head looked up and nodded at his colleague, who was positioned between the same girl’s thighs screwing her hard. One man thrust and then the other followed, in a kind of mutual rhythm that pushed their poor bound victim first one way and then the other, back and forth, her back becoming scratched by the rough wooden horizontal frame upon which she was tied.

She could feel the shaft at her tongue pulse and she knew it was about to spew out its sickening load, but it was the cock pushed deep into her cunt that won the race. There was just the matter of a few seconds in it though, and it was a joint celebration of male ejaculation that filled Ekaterina Novikova’s body simultaneously at both ends.

01 - Screwing her hard 11.21.08.jpeg

Eyes closed, head falling backwards, Kat had no real sense of reality any more, and when another swollen cock head pushed at her mouth, an immediate replacement for the one that had just satiated itself, she simply opened wide …

SVR Headquarters, The Centre, Moscow in the Russian Federation

“Did they take her?” The question was asked of the more Junior Officer by Colonel Tretykov.

“Yes, Comrade Colonel, Agent Novikova was abducted as she left Minsk Airport. She was taken by the Belarusian Special Services as planned.”

The Colonel nodded, “It is a shame, really, she was very good at what we asked her to do, but when the President issues orders they need to be followed through.”

Both men sat and paused for a while, reflecting upon their own memories of the beautiful Agent Ekaterina Novikova. Tretykov had been a kind of mentor to her when she was a fresh trainee. Had he been a father-figure? No, not when you considered some of the things he had made her do for him back then … The Colonel sighed.

“How will she be treated?” Tretykov asked, breaking the pensive silence.

The other officer shook his head slowly, “It was not politic to ask that question Comrade Colonel, but she will no doubt be executed in some way. The usual method in that Godforsaken country is for the condemned to be shot.”

Tretykov poured himself a Vodka and one for his colleague also.

“And the summit meeting to discuss the currency issues can now take place?”

“Yes Colonel, the Russian delegation is already in Minsk.”

Independence Palace, Minsk, Belarus

“Seven Billion?” The seated Belarusian Finance Minister made the statement sound like a question. The Primary Russian Delegate standing at the end of the table nodded, before adding,

“Yes, we will print seven billion additional Russian Rubles for the five of you to share.”

In return for committing to a shared, common currency – which really meant Belarus adopting the Russian Ruble, the Russians were offering each of the five Belarusian officials an amount equivalent to almost twenty million US dollars each.

There were smiles all around the table. That was the deal clincher, the arrangement could now be finalised.

Lunch was brought in and the two delegations dispersed throughout the conference room to enjoy their refreshment.

“So, you have the Agent in custody now?” The question was asked by the Head of the Russian team.

Pausing to complete the swallowing of his soft, suety kletski dumpling, the affirmative reply was asserted by a nod. “Yes, we have the bitch, and justice will be served,” he finally managed to articulate.

Leaning in a little more confidentially the Russian wanted to know more.

“Where is she now?”

“In the cells at Pishchalauski.”

“And what is being done to her.”

Now the Belarusian smirked, “Everything you would expect, along with other things that I am certain you could not possible start to imagine.”

The Russian had to work hard to constrain the sexually motivated moan that was fighting to leave his throat. He had seen Agent Novikova several times, and although it was always from a distance her beauty was obvious.

“And will she be executed?”

Now the Belarusian paused …

“Well?” The question was pushed.

“She will, and …” There was another pause whilst words were carefully considered, before the conversation continued. “… her execution is being used as part of a study into the ongoing Death by Crucifixion project, which is a programme of work being undertaken by the Vitebsk State Medical University in order to determine more scientifically the stages of death, relatively speaking, suffered by Our Lord during his own execution.”

The Russian almost spat out the masticated Pork vereshchaka.

“She is going to be crucified on a wooden cross?” He attempted to validate his understanding.

“Indeed, she is,” the Belarusian confirmed.

“Oh my God,” his response was not an exclamation of outrage but one of desire, as he saw lust fuelled images passing through his mind’s eye. “When?” He added.

“In two days’ time. Because it is part of the study, her death will need to be carefully controlled and follow the stepped process that has already been identified and agreed.”

“A process?” The Soviet man repeated.

A nod asserted the clarification sought, followed up with more very welcome detail. “It will begin with the Preparation stage, whereupon the girl will be prepared so that her body will ultimately bleed more easily. This is the first stage in the execution process.”

The Russian was simply spellbound. Eating and drinking had ceased as he listened before saying in a simply monosyllabic manner, “And then?”

“And then the Flogging. she will be whipped furiously with the scourge, in the same manner that Our Lord was.”

The Russian nodded sagely at the mention of Our Lord. “So, this programme is a study sponsored by the desire to widen your Christian knowledge?”

His opposite number laughed, “Well, if you want to package up the erotic torment of a beautiful girl in that way then I guess you can. But the truth is that our President wants to deliver so-called justice to a murderess, by slaking his thirst for torture.”

“And then …”

“You want to know more?”

“Yes … yes, please, I do.”

More menacing chuckles preceded the sharing of the third stage. “We call stage three, Dressing. The girl will be dressed with thorns upon her head, and made to carry her cross, or at least the patibulum, to her place of execution …” The man offering the description saw the confusion on the other man’s face.

“The Patibulum is the cross beam to which the girl’s hands will be nailed …”

“Nailed …?”

“Of course, and that will be the fourth part of the process. Mounting.”

By now the listener could barely speak, so dry was his throat. He swallowed hard, and attempted to summarise what he thought he had heard.

“So, Agent Novikova will be go through four stages; Preparation, Flogging, Dressing and Mounting?”

His words received a confirmatory nod.

“Is there a fifth stage?”

The teller of the narrative smiled, “The fifth and final stage is simply called Suffering.”

To Be Continued …


Another tour de force, Fossy. You have certainly wetted our appetites, but have raised the bar so high that your description of Yulia`s death needs to be spectacular'
I`m confident you will rise to the occasion! (Many of you readers, as well)
You can rest assured that I will certainly try my best 99 ...


Death by Crucifixion (2)

Small Conference Theatre, Administration Block at Pishchalauski Castle Prison, Minsk, Belarus.


“I still cannot believe what we are here to witness,” The girl with the long dark hair whispered to her male colleague as they watched the security check queue in front of them slowly get smaller.

“I know, to actually get to see the physical manifestation of the theory set out in the study is truly unbelievable,” The guy with the close-cropped beard, unkempt hair and swarthy features replied.

A group of ten students, six male and four females, had been invited from the Vitebsk State Medical University to witness the execution of the Russian Agent, Ekaterina Novikova, which would take place throughout this momentous day. The group had all been made to sign an Official-Secrets Act and were now being thoroughly checked and searched before being allowed inside.

The whole process, every stage, would be recorded, and so the only logging material they were allowed to have with them was paper and a writing implement. No phones, laptops or e-devices of any kind had been allowed into the auditorium.

Taking her seat, the dark-haired girl picked up the pamphlet that had been left on the padded theatre-style chair. Reading she spoke out loud.

“So, it says on this sheet that first we get to see the ‘Preparation’.” She turned to look at her male colleague again, who smiled back at her.

“I wonder what we will see happen to her, this girl?” She was now struggling to keep the desire-filled intonation from fuelling her words.

“Her name is Ekaterina Novikova …” They both stared at the picture of the beautiful Russian Agent that gazed up at them from the glossy page. “She is alleged to have arranged the death of a Senior Belarusian Diplomat (see Swallow’s Nest) and has been charged with Treasonous Murder.”

Silence overcame them whilst the remainder of the party took their places.

“We know that ‘Preparation’ is a programme of abuse that conditions the victim’s body …” The male student spoke as if reading a pre written narrative whilst running his hand through his unruly hair …

“… And her mind,” the girl interjected. He nodded in agreement before continuing.

“… To become conditioned to blood-letting.” He was quoting from the study.

“But what does that mean will actually be done to her?”

Both of these Post-Grad students now sat back in their seats to consider what it was they were about to witness!

Solitary Confinement dungeon at Pishchalauski Castle Prison, Minsk, Belarus.

It is time.

Ekaterina places her hands behind her back, offering her wrists subserviently to the jailer tasked with shackling her …

Her pretty make-up free face contorts into a frown as he clamps the manacles around her wrists. She turns to face him and their gazes meet, and Kat’s eyes plead with his to spare her from this ordeal.

He kneels down to shackle her ankles.

"No! No! Please …" the scared girl exclaims.

Her right ankle breaks away from his grasp. He grips it firmly with his left hand to plant it on the floor as she continues trying to move it away.

"You must let me. I'll have to call for help and you'll be beaten if you don't let me restrain you. You don't want this to be any worse than it has to be."

"I didn't do anything. I'm not guilty! You must know that I could never kill anyone!"

"So you continue to say, but the judge said you did and that's what counts as far as the law is concerned.”

"I don't want to die!"

The jailer did not respond.

Dressed only in a prison jump suit, Ekaterina’s arm is taken and she is nudged forward to begin the walk of death on this final day of her short, young life.

Small Conference Theatre, Administration Block at Pishchalauski Castle Prison, Minsk, Belarus.

“She’s here,” the excitement was building in the theatre as the lights dimmed. The small observation group fell silent as the curtain opened and the retinue entered.

“Oh my gosh, she is completely beautiful!” It wasn’t the guy with the tanned features speaking but the dark-haired girl. Her male friend simply nodded; his throat already dry.

Kat was ‘hobbled’. Manacles around her wrists and also around her ankles, on short chains connected to one another by a longer, vertical chain. It made movement slow and laborious, a torment that was destined to be the least of her concerns throughout this day.

As Kat was positioned centre stage, her orange suited body cast bright against the dark curtain behind her, an official spoke.

“Welcome to you all. We are here, as you know, to witness the suffering and ultimate execution of the prisoner called Ekaterina Novikova, a Russian Intelligence Officer who has acted in a seditious manner towards our country and will now suffer the full force of our judgement.”

The silence that had reigned in the audience had now given way to a low, excited chatter.

“We will observe the Preparation and Flogging stages here in the theatre. The subsequent phases will be observed from elsewhere.”

Those were his final words as the lights dimmed. The auditorium was consumed by a silence so overpowering that Ekaterina’s whimpers could be clearly heard.

Men dressed in dark clothes approached the chained girl. She was trembling, but the tears of grief had stopped rolling down her cheeks and her voice was muted. She was exhausted if truth be known. Raped without end throughout the previous day, her whole demeanour was now submissively taciturn.

Kat stared up at the jailor, her eyes retaining just a little of her natural defiance. Insolence driven by her training, her will, her own sense of being told her that there was no chance of any reprieve.

"No words in your defence? Shame! Perhaps they will come as I strip you." The jailor grinned as the hobbling manacles were unfastened and fell with a loud clank to the floor.

The audience gasped as the process began.

The zipper on her jump suit was opened allowing the material to be dragged away from her shoulders and down to her slender waist exposing the Agent’s firm and sizable breasts, leaving her abdomen and arms bare.

Gritting her teeth, her eyes widening, she recoiled as the aggressive guard set himself upon her.

The students were watching with an intense gaze, forgetting completely that this was not a show for their entertainment and that they were actually here for academic reasons, to observe and take notes.

Turning her head away in an attempt to focus her mind elsewhere, Kat shivered as the prison uniform was pulled down her legs and off at her bare feet with ease … the guard able to all but ignore Kat's feeble resistance.

“Panties … take them off!” And so it was under their instruction that the prisoner pulled down her own black panties and cast them aside.

02 - the prisoner pulled down her own black panties..jpeg

The poor girl squeezed her eyes shut, panic welling within her which she fought to control. At one point she even closed her hand around the Guard's upper arm, feeling the warmth of the Guards bare skin under her delicate fingers. Opening her eyes as she held onto the jailor, Kat watched the smirk appear on his face, his own muscles flexing as he leaned into the girl, putting his entire weight into the gripped arm. Her eyes widened, twinkling with barely restrained tears as she felt the muscle under her hand swell, a massive and unstoppable torso that Kat knew she was powerless against even without the exhaustion that now engulfed her.

"Do you understand yet, bitch?" The jailor snarled, her face barely inches from Kat's, eager to see the defeat in his prisoner’s tear-filled gaze, “Today is the day you die!”

Kat stared up at her captor, eyes scanning over the Guards expression, wrinkled her nose and then spat.

Surprised, the jailor recoiled, his smug expression melting into a snarl as he reached up a hand, tracing two thick fingers across his cheek where the saliva had landed, collecting it then looking at it, his eyes turning back to Kat as he proceeded to wipe the thick glob onto her naked flesh.

"You like to swap spit huh, bitch? You might regret sharing that with me," The jailor said in a quiet, calm, menacing voice.

Kat let out a panicked whimper as the man moved behind her. She felt his body pushed against her nudity, and gasped as his fingers parted her thighs …

“Is he supposed to be doing this?” The dark-haired student whispered to her male friend. He, in turn, could not reply, as he focused on the action, not caring one little bit about what should or should not be happening.

Kat arched her back and squirmed as the officer penetrated her body before dragging his thick tongue up over the sweet silky skin of her neck, causing the naked Agent to gasp before retching in disgust.

Despite her pride and training, when she felt the guard's rough hand slide over her flesh, his coarse palm roaming over her stomach to cup and brutally squeeze one of her sensitive breasts, she cried out, a tear running down her cheek as she again squeezed her eyes shut, willing this nightmare to end …

She pushed and writhed to no effect as the jailor enjoyed her soft cries and desperate whines.

Kat's whimper deepened into a groan as his touch left her thighs and moved to her face where his thick thumb slipped between her full lips, tracing across the inside of her cheek to hook behind her teeth pushing in to lock her jaw open, forcing her mouth wide to prevent her from biting.

Kat's hands were so focused trying to pry the Guard's calloused hand away from her heavy breast, trying to free it from the brutal mauling she was receiving as he cupped, squeezed pulled and pushed against her chest, that she ignored the relatively painless intrusion of the long, thick digit into her mouth. But, as she felt hot breath against her lips and the hand at her breast lessen its grip, she realised her error.

She gagged and twisted helplessly in the jailor's powerful grip as the thick hot intrusion of the Guard's searching tongue into the feeble smallness of her own mouth, stole a kiss.

The Agent groaned into the guard’s embrace, trying to bite down on the intruding snake that caressed and explored her mouth, giving no care for her comfort, merely sating its own needs. But the thumb locked behind her teeth made it impossible, leaving her no option but to endure the oral assault.

The jailor kissed her long and hard, getting off as much on the girl's inevitable submission as he was on the actual kiss, though Kat’s mouth was delightfully sweet and sensuous. All the while he continued to assault the captive girl's soft, but firm, breast, kneading it like dough in his grip feeling the prisoner’s nipple involuntarily hardened under his touch.

The monstrous man finally broke the hold, leaning up to look down into the convicted Agent’s eyes, which were now staring unfocused at nothing, detached from her mind.

With a smirk, the jailor reciprocated the earlier action, and spat into Kat’s face, causing her to jerk, shocked as her lips were coated with the Guard's spit, her eyes coming to rest on the jailor's own.

He grinned and turned to face his small audience.

“Now she is ready. Chain her.”

To Be Continued …
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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
The teller of the narrative smiled, “The fifth and final stage is simply called Suffering.”
What more needs to be said?
Small Conference Theatre, Administration Block at Pishchalauski Castle Prison, Minsk, Belarus.
Sounds eerily reminiscent of a room in Changi Prison, Singapore.
The students were watching with an intense gaze, forgetting completely that this was not a show for their entertainment and that they were actually here for academic reasons, to observe and take notes.
Bet they're glad they didn't skip class today! Let's see, six men and four women bet those girls are going to end up mighty busy. The one girl featured sounds remarkably similar to a girl I've dated (or tried to date - OK, It might have looked like stalking! But the restraining order was totally uncalled for!)

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Death by Crucifixion (3)

Small Conference Theatre, Administration Block at Pishchalauski Castle Prison, Minsk, Belarus.

“Preparation (Continued).”

Ekaterina stood naked on the stage, exposed ... vulnerable …

“Chain her,” had been the command, and the dark curtain behind the denuded girl opened to reveal a pair of upright wooden poles, manacles attached to the top and bottom of both.

Two men, large, muscular, stripped to the waist, approached Ekaterina; studying her with ardent eyes. Her nude, unprotected body revealing her resident scars for all to see, along with her bare, shave pubic mound. This would not be the first time she had been beaten, but it would be the commencement of the last.

The students watched in awed silence as the young Agent was manhandled, her arms dragged up and wide, to be re-manacled into the waiting chains, followed by her ankles which were similarly secured to leave her spread and open …

03 - a pair of upright wooden poles.jpeg

The Officer-In-Charge of proceedings took up a centre stage position to once more make his pronouncement.

“Now we are ready for you to witness the ‘Preparation’ stage of the prisoner’s execution process. During this phase she will be beaten in a manner that will bruise her flesh, drawing blood to the surface of her skin. Small cuts will appear but the main wounds that are planned for the next stage will not yet be formed …”

“Oh my God,” the student girl with the long black hair moaned out these words and allowed her hands to slip onto the thigh of her male colleague, who in turn shivered a little at the touch of his fellow student’s hand, but did nothing to remove it.

“Please,” was all that Ekaterina could muster, a sound so quiet that the auditorium microphones hardly picked it up. The Officer-In-Charge continued.

“The prisoner will be weakened by this process, though blood loss will be minimal. As a result of the severe anxiety triggered by fear and pain, we would expect to see excretion of blood or blood pigments in her perspiration. The overall trauma that this repeated beating will cause, we expect to indicate evidence of hematidrosis …”

“They’re going to make her sweat blood? Will that really happen?” As the female student said this, she let her hand stray higher on the guy’s thigh, and she could feel the bulging in the material of his denim jeans. Once again, he offered no audible response, trying his best to focus, unsuccessfully, on taking a few relevant notes …

The whole audience sighed a disbelieving gasp, unable to quite comprehend what they were about to witness, the somewhat scientifically academic facia doing nothing to dilute the horrific reality that underpinned the man’s words.

Kat's attention was drawn to the approaching Whip-Master, one of the two in attendance.

She watched the reprehensible bastard shake out the coils of a long-tailed flogger.

It was time …

The order was given to proceed. He moved behind her to take up his position.

The frame forced Kat into a forward leaning position. She knew that her ass was made an easier target because of her stance, but there was nothing she could do about it.

And then it began. As her long hair was thrown forward over her shoulder, the flogger fell with loud cracks onto Kat’s bare back. She jerked and writhed as he laid the leather strands into her with a skill that ensured every inch of her exposed body was beaten with intense regularity. But it wasn’t until he increased the strength of his strokes when laying them upon her sensitive bottom cheeks that the poor, bound girl screamed.

“Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, stop, please …” Her cries seemed so futile given what else was planned for her this day, and the pleas were, predictably, ignored.

The man with the flogger moved position so that now she could see him, and although Kat’s inclined posture did not expose the front of her body in the same lewd manner as her rear, it did not stop the Whip-Master from beating her breasts and abdomen with consummate ease.

She was already perspiring when the first break was called, but no more than a few seconds had elapsed before her brutal treatment recommenced, taking a slightly different turn.

Whilst the man at her front continued to beat her, this time from much closer quarters with a blunt-spiked paddle, the second man moved behind her. His arm disappeared from view as he applied himself to whatever new torture was being meted out to their victim. Kat let out a heart-rending yell and pushed her whole body outwards making a much better target for the frontal assault.

“You see how the girl responds to the pin wheel that is now being applied to the rear of her naked body …” the narrative describing proceedings was offered by the Officer-In-Charge.

“Pleeeeease stop!” Kat yelled as the razor-sharp pins were wheeled over her skin, up and down her back covering every inch of her nubile flesh. When the men swapped positions and the sharpened wheel moved to torment her nipples, before moving agonisingly down to pass through the split of her labial lips, Kat was left gasping.

But there was no respite. For another hour she was beaten, paddled and tormented in many different ways. On two occasions pungent smelling salts had to be used to rouse her from an almost comatose state. Finally, when they ceased their appalling ministrations, the Russian Agent was left hanging in the chains, her body battered and bruised, with pale red drips running in thin rivulets down her body …

“Look at her, she’s almost dead already …” The girl with the long dark hair whispered.

“I know, but she isn’t though, right?”

“Isn’t what?”

“Isn’t dead, look at her chest and her whole body. She is trembling … look.”

And it was true, Ekaterina, bound and beaten, was indeed quivering, a state interspersed with the occasional convulsion, a physical reaction to the traumatic shock.

“Do you think they will scourge her, I mean literally, with barbs and hooks and …” As the girl said this, her voice caught and she ended up coughing. The truth was that this scene being played out before them was turning her on like nothing ever had before.

“You will see the prisoner is now fully prepared. Note how the blood has risen to the surface of her skin, bruising her flesh, ready to pour forth from the lacerations that the scourges will cause …”

“Scourges … more than one?” The male student uttered almost to himself as he adjusted his seating position so that the girl could get a better grip upon his hard cock through the denim of his jeans.

“You will also note how her perspiration is tinged red. That indicates that her stress levels are high and the fearful anxiety that infuses her body is at its terrible peak. She will be struck with whips made of braided leather thongs with metal balls woven into them, along with iron barbs and razor-sharp bone shards. Her veins are now laid bare near to surface of her skin, and her very muscles, sinews and internal organs are ready, exposed to the impending onslaught.”

“Put your coat over your lap,” The girl whispered into her male student colleague’s ear. Without question he duly obliged.

As the girl slowly wound down the guy’s zipper and allowed her delicately small fingers to dextrously slip inside his jeans, the Officer-In-Charge continued with his descriptive narrative

To Be Continued …
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