Table 8 was the worst. It was a group of 6 thirty somethings that were downing drinks at a steady pace. “Can I get you boys another round?”“Yo... are one fine slut aren’t you” one of them slurred at me. I went to take a step back but he corralled me with a long arm around my shoulders and pulled me back to the table. Then he pulled me up onto his lap and said “why don’t you have a seat here while we discuss whether I’ve spent enough in drinks to fuck that hot little honey hole of yours or. The one thing they all had in common was their parents' determination that the evils of the modern world with its consumerism and materialism should not pollute their offspring.This was Christmas Eve and the girls had all been sent early to bed. Muriel walked up to the dormitory and commanded the young but physically mature pupils to stand by their beds so that she might inspect them. The room was cold and the beds hard, covered only by a threadbare blanket. No linen sheets touched the soft. More

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