Alcatraz

story continued from part three Part 4: Miss Anya It was several days until I had any further contact with Anya. At 10am a package arrived for me at the office, delivered by courier. It was plainly wrapped and hand written in beautiful script. Inside was a box containing a mobile phone - a black Samsung smart phone. Also in the box was a piece of paper with a four digit number written on it. Putting two and two together I used the numbers as the pass-code to the phone. The code worked and I was in. ...

story continued from part five Part 6: The Birthday Treat We drove for a while, my disorientation rendering time and distance as mere abstract concepts. Eventually the smooth road noise changed to a gravelly crunch for a while before the car drew to a stop. It was raining even heavier, quite torrential. I felt the heavy drops hitting my rubber shell as if I were stood beneath a particularly powerful shower. ...

story continued from part four Part 5: Objectified Slave It was another couple of days until I heard from Anya again. But this time her minion was not the courier, but Mel from Surrender. She came to the office dressed very conservatively and business like, not a hint of her kinky side was evident. She had come under the pretence of delivering some information for a case I was working on. The receptionist pointed her in my direction and she elegantly glided over while the office Meerkats did little to disguise their admiration of her beauty, so pathetic. ...

story continued from part six Part 7: Phoenix Arisen Everything in my life was changing so quickly. Jonathan, Anya, Surrender, The Lair and by no means least my career. Far too quickly. I was not in full control any more. Too many plates were spinning, and it was only a matter of time until they would begin to topple, one by one at first, until the whole show came crashing to the dirt in a shattered mess. ...

story continued from part seven Part 8: Anastasia Anastasia Kristina Sokolov sat alone in the coffee shop, absently stirring her steaming cup of Earl Grey whilst reading the local paper. She had shortened her professional name to Anya some years ago when she began to build her business empire. But right now, in her melancholy state, she was Anastasia once again, the 35 year old woman originally from St Petersburg. Her short skirt and tight blouse attracted lustful glances from the men and judgemental glowers from the women. ...

story continued from part two Part 3: The Club At around 10pm the taxi pulled up outside an innocuous brick building. “Are you sure this is the right place?” I scanned the area with trepidation. It was an old area of the city. The full moon provided just enough light to see, the elongated shadows gave the area a disconcerting feel. “Yup, this is it” “Will you wait a moment while I make sure?” ...

Part 1: A Visit to a Charity Shop The damned train drivers were on strike again. Another interminable dispute over pay and conditions. For the third time in a month their industrial action had forced me to seek alternative transport. The buses were a lot slower than the train and the route stopped a frustratingly long distance away from my flat. Fortunately it was a pleasant enough early-spring evening for the remaining walk. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: The Mirror My mind was full of a million questions about the trunk, and the beautiful rubber panties within. Unsure whether I was even safe to be in the same room as the mysterious trunk, I dragged it into the spare bedroom and closed the door. Sleep proved elusive, restlessly listening for any sounds coming from outside my bedroom, every few minutes peeping to see if the eerie glow had returned. What played on my mind the most were the words which had appeared on the catalogue. “GET THE MIRROR!”. What did that mean, and what would be the ramifications if I acquired said mirror? ...

continued from part one Part 2: Driving Miss Crazy Chapter 1: Why Am I Here, And For How Long? Laura was lying naked upon the cold stone floor, curled in a foetal position. Following her ensnarement by the Mistress that night she had been left alone to reflect on her future. Her ankles and wrists had been cuffed together forestalling any attempt at escape. The dungeon was pitch black. The heat lamp which had relentlessly drained her body of moisture and energy was now extinguished, only a faint glow remained as its element cooled. She was unable to call out for help; the ball gag was still embedded firmly in her mouth, forcing her to breathe long deep breaths through her nose. Wet trails criss-crossed her face where the gag had drawn rivulets of saliva from its seal with her lips. ...

Chapter 1: In bondage no one can hear me scream Ba-dum … Ba-dum …. My heart is beating powerfully and fast. Ba-dum … Ba-dum …. Darkness. Endless darkness. My eyes are open yet I can see nothing. Ba-dum … Ba-dum …. Silence. I hear nothing outside of my own body. All I hear is my blood pumping through my veins and my laboured breathing whistling like a sirocco through my nostrils. ...

Chapter 1: A Shopping Trip Laura Reynolds sighed as she stared impassively into the store window. She cast her eyes over the characterless fashion paraded in front of her by lifeless figures. She amused herself thinking even the mannequins looked bored wearing it. How many times she gone through this same ritual today? A new outfit was needed for tonight’s party but Laura had wasted nearly all of her morning wandering from one faceless high street chain to another each time leaving disappointed, fed up and empty handed. ...