I need a new place to stay. I can’t stay in my cousin’s basement anymore. She’s evil and insane. And she uses people. I need my own little place.... Also, I need a new job. I’ve done odd jobs here and there, but I want something more steady. My writing is going good. It’s the one thing that’s going alright for me. I’ve written two books in the two months I’ve been in Canada. The first one introduces a unique voice to African-American Literature and Horror. The chronicles of a bisexual male. I look down and see it blinking back up at me. It’s eyes trying to adjust to the light as it stares back up at me, a look of distress on its face morphing into that pretty look of terror, I love, as it sees the soldering iron in my hand and leather belt dangling from the other hand.‘It’ is a pretty young thin thing with dark long hair and eyes that grow adorably huge I when I approach it with any sort of fun ‘tool’. Its tits are small, but so much fun to torment, to twist, pinch, and pierce.. "Hi," she said as she stepped toward the microphone, waving to no one in particular, "I'm Lissa and I'll be teaching Calculus II." Calculus II. I gulped. Good thing I hadn't planned on learning anything new, I thought to myself.The following morning, I woke up late. Actually, I woke up right on time, but had to spend some extra minutes getting up, since my cabin mates thought it might be a good idea to duct-tape me to the bed. So after spending forty-five minutes or so freeing myself, I quickly. Joy was sat right in front of me, legs open, skirt pulled up and knickers pulled to one side. Two of her fingers were massaging her bare slit. She knew and me and Gary could see but she did not move. I nudged Gary and he banged his head when he looked up as well. We both know there was something rude about this but at the same time it was an exciting secret. I put my hand on one of Joy’s thighs and dared Gary in a whisper to do the same which he did. I then dared him to touch it (we didn’t have.