I could not stand around in a pubic place when she went by; I would be suspiciously indecent and if caught in the open have nowhere to hide my thickening embarrassment. She was a tease. Many of my friends had tried in vain to create some sort of conversation with her, but failed dismally. She would listen for a moment and then discard the chatter with a brisk, flowing turn and head off. She walked by at least two or three times a day, sometimes with a shopping bag, a jacket, perhaps the odd girlfriend equally as delicious and would always pause near my house as if to smell a rose, look at a garden, pretend to be distracted by a passer by. She knew I existed, she would just not acknowledge it. She would take a short, sideways glance at me from somewhere in her walk and if I watched carefully, I could see her cheek muscle tense from a smile that escaped. It was a particularly hot evening when this dream occurred. It was the end of a series of long, hot summer days and the nights were. "Thank you," she replied, as she felt her tight muscles try to loosen."Here is your seat," she said.Chastity's eye brows squeezed together strangely as she looked at thesmall pillow the secretary was handing her. "Thank you?" Yes, I'll show you your work station." She entered the office. "Didyou have any specialization training?" I was taught to be a slut, and I am told I excelled at all aspects ofthe training, but I don't think I am limited by any specialization." Limited by specialization? That's supposed to.. oh, never mind..."The way she said it suggested that she almost didn't understand theslut's view on specialization. The girl obviously thoughtspecialization was not good, but specialization technically meant betterproficiency, right? The secretary wasn't going to try and figure outthe girl's thoughts. They stopped at the desk. "Who was your trainingsupervisor?" Mistress Dyvia." Ohhh..." she said as if the slut said the wrong thing. "If the bossasks you, be sure to.
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