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    <title>Cunning Linguist on Utopia Stories Library</title>
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      <title>Her Punishment</title>
      <link>/stories/63998/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author&#39;s Note:&lt;/strong&gt; This story will not be for everyone. It is inspired by a real person and I have endured a number of the things that she goes through so I write from experience.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;You seem nervous,&amp;rdquo; I began. She nodded, biting her lip. I cocked an eyebrow and she said, &amp;ldquo;Yes.&amp;rdquo; I tilted my head slightly to the side, an invitation to elaborate further and she replied, &amp;ldquo;Yes, Sir, I am nervous.&amp;rdquo; I looked her up and down. I knew she was about 40 though she took care of herself well so looked much younger. About 5&#39;4&amp;quot;, athletic though softly curved body; she apparently swam, ran, and did yoga every day. Brown hair, light brown eyes, clear fair skin, not a wrinkle nor a grey hair to be seen. Quite remarkable for the mother of a 16 year old, a 13 year old, and-the surprise child-a 3 year old. That&amp;rsquo;s where we met, pre-pre-school. I had not realized such a thing existed until I became a parent. Though it was a relief to know that it did. A morning or few a week away from the kids. Though my wife and I shared the parenting duties, it was the mothers of all of the other children who volunteered. Me and nine women, including my wife, on rotating shifts helping the teacher. That&amp;rsquo;s how we got to know her. My wife and I discussed her right after we met her at the first parent social. My wife started the conversation, &amp;ldquo;Who is the one with the dark secrets?&amp;rdquo; I replied, &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s obvious to you, too? She has some skeletons in her closet for sure. I wonder if the 3 year old is even his,&amp;rdquo; I added, referring to the father we briefly met before he disappeared into the corner for a business call. &amp;ldquo;If that is how he is all the time, I bet she feels a bit . . . neglected.&amp;rdquo; My wife nodded and said, &amp;ldquo;Shall I suss her out?&amp;rdquo; I smiled and she replied, &amp;ldquo;I will take that as a yes.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description>
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      <title>The Origin Story</title>
      <link>/stories/71334/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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      <description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diary Entry: 29 May 2046&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As she often does, Miss has given me a writing assignment to commemorate a significant passage of time. This coming week, on 31 May 2046, I mark my 48th birthday though this is not the significant date in question. Rather, I also mark 30 years in service to Miss, something that began on my 18th birthday three decades ago. She has asked me to write my origin story, such as it is.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
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