<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Concrete on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/concrete/</link><description>Recent content in Concrete on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:47 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/concrete/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Suffering for his Art</title><link>/stories/2021/02/13/suffering-for-his-art/</link><pubDate>Sat, 13 Feb 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/02/13/suffering-for-his-art/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Are you ready, Ben?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The young man’s hands nervously pad the thick wetsuit that covers every inch of his body. The heart rate monitor flickers rapidly as an expression of his excitement, and of his anxiety. This is a fantasy that has been on his mind for most of his life, but even so, that doesn’t mean it isn’t scaring him to let it play out. He nods in response, the snorkel glued to the wetsuit makes any attempts to speak unintelligible.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Body in the Basement</title><link>/stories/2020/07/12/the-body-in-the-basement/</link><pubDate>Sun, 12 Jul 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/07/12/the-body-in-the-basement/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“What is it, Reynolds?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“They found bones, Boss. While demolishing the foundations of The Sphynx. Definitely human, Doctor Gomez says.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“A dead man under a Vegas casino? Not very original.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Sphynx was one of the original old casinos on The Strip, built during the Mob era. If you believe all the stories from that time, their foundations are a 50-50 mix of human bodies and concrete.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Tell’m I’ll be there in 15 minutes”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Solid Revenge</title><link>/stories/2018/01/11/solid-revenge/</link><pubDate>Thu, 11 Jan 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/01/11/solid-revenge/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Frankie Massino was trying to figure out why he was lying on something pliable yet cold while his front side was warmer. He may have had a bit too much to drink last night but he’d never had a hangover like he was experiencing now. The pounding in his skull was almost nauseating.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Trying to lift his hands to his head to see if that would somehow help the throbbing pain to stop, Frankie found that he was unable to move them. His eyelids felt like they were made of lead as he tried to open them. Using all his energy to try and force them apart, Frankie began to understand what had happened to him.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Just for Fun</title><link>/stories/2015/08/12/just-for-fun/</link><pubDate>Wed, 12 Aug 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/08/12/just-for-fun/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My heart pounded in my ears almost as loud as the dirt pounding on the lid of the casket that was only inches above my face. I had asked for this, dreamed and fantasized about it for years, but I was quickly finding that my dreams and fantasies where a lot different than the hard cold reality of being buried alive.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I strained against the straps that held me down, but it was useless. The leather straps were very tight, very secure, and held me nearly motionless. If only I hadn&amp;rsquo;t been so determined to feel like a prisoner, a captive. If only I hadn&amp;rsquo;t insisted that I be strapped down so tightly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Just for Fun</title><link>/stories/2015/08/12/just-for-fun/</link><pubDate>Wed, 12 Aug 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/08/12/just-for-fun/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My heart pounded in my ears almost as loud as the dirt pounding on the lid of the casket that was only inches above my face. I had asked for this, dreamed and fantasized about it for years, but I was quickly finding that my dreams and fantasies where a lot different than the hard cold reality of being buried alive.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I strained against the straps that held me down, but it was useless. The leather straps were very tight, very secure, and held me nearly motionless. If only I hadn&amp;rsquo;t been so determined to feel like a prisoner, a captive. If only I hadn&amp;rsquo;t insisted that I be strapped down so tightly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally 4</title><link>/stories/2015/07/09/subterranean-sally-4/</link><pubDate>Thu, 09 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/07/09/subterranean-sally-4/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="subterraneansally3.html"&gt;part three&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Four&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I lay there for ages crying into the mask. Feeling betrayed like her in the story, but knowing it was my fault just made it worse. Bob was obviously scared that I’d placed myself in danger again and maybe this ‘extra’ time might snap me out of it.
Repeatedly I replayed that moment upstairs, swishing happily around and grabbing the locket, one of two that I’d kept of Donna’s… this one white, the other black… “OH BLAST!” I screamed into the gag, now remembering the safe key WAS IN THE OTHER ONE! Weeping now at my carelessness, I’d kept the key in there because I’d worn that one with a dark blue dress for the night at the hotel with my girlfriends!
So ‘all I had to do’ was wait for Bob’ to re-establish my text capabilty… so I settled down. Worked hard at doing my exercises and prayed like heck it’d only be the first week…
It took nearly a month!
The screen startled me and I’d almost forgotten how the keyboard worked when I saw communications were up. Bob and Mary standing there and it was mum who was tapping.
‘Dearest Sally. We’re sorry to have kept you down there honey, but felt…’
They stopped as a flow of gibberish came across. I cursed and backspaced, tapping quickly in case he switched me off again.
‘Hi guys, welcome back. But dad, I feel so stupud. My safe key is in the OTHER locket… can you go and chekc’ he read, ignoring the spelling mistakes and I saw his head resting against Mary’s shoulders for a moment. 
He quickly left the room and I nervously waited, my eyes struggling to focus as I’d been in virtual darkness for so long. Muscle-wise I felt really bad, the cramps just permenantly painful now and I swore this was going to be the LAST time I’d be ever down here. He returned waving the key and the ring full of padlock ones. Mary leapt up and embraced him, both bursting into tears and I was crying too, hoping he’d whip the wardrobe doors open and start up the jackhammer… 
‘OK sweetheart. We really should have checked ourselves. I’m gonna kick myself for ages. So I’ll start freeing you tomorrow morning. It’s Sunday night and a bit late to start drilling now…’
I cursed unladylike but knew he wouldn’t budge.
‘Fair enough, and again I’m sorry. I’ve been exercising but still feel shi… Sorry rotten’ I tapped, grinning when Mary waggled a mocking finger. We ‘chatted’ a lot more and eventually an hour later they signed off with virtual hugs, Bob switching my movies and music back on. ‘You’ll need them to drown out the drill eh?’
He was right and I suffered horribly next afternoon as the thundering grew louder. At one point I started tapping out for him to STOP and cover me up again! Thankfully that got backspaced before he saw it. The pair worked SO hard and I screamed with delight when a big chunk of concrete was levered away and I saw the bars of my cage. Now the real delicate work started as they chiselled and dug deeper using manual tools as they worked more out from inside the cage bars. One thump made the coffin creak and I saw Mary gesturing, Bob now realising he’d go through the wood if he wasn’t careful.
The sight of Bob unlocking the cage reduced me to tears of joy. Each one was waved to the camera and I squealed when the last came off and was crying when the top bars were removed. But after hours of labour I sensed they were exhausted just as I could see the full length of the lid. If they carried on they’d be here a long time til I could get up from the casket. Then be taken upstairs and so on.
‘Hey guys, I know you’re close but if you’re getting tired then carry on tomorrow, yes? I don’t want you knackered and the bit getting me out of here will take a long time. Bob I can see you flexing that wrist. Have breaks… before you do some mischief.’    
They cuddled and I saw Mary talking and agreement was reached.
‘OK sweetie, glad you understand and thanks for that, look forward to seeing you in the morning.’
I never slept that night, constantly flicking between cameras and movies heart leaping when I finally saw them reappearing.
‘Hi darling, hope you’re OK. We’re a lot better today so be patient. Think of that lovely bath waiting for you’ Mary wrote and I grinned, trying to ignore the fact that my body odour was starting to affect my nasal passages. Not a real stink but noticeable all the same.
The hoist was brought in to lift me out. Mary warning the power was about to go out briefly. I held my breath obviously and sighed on feeling the coffin lurching upwards… stopping soon afterwards and everything returning, air and light, enabling me to watch as they swung me over onto the carpet. My eyes were streaming with tears as I heard the popping of the covers then the magical wrrring.
“Brace yourself Sally, eyes closed please darling. We’re opening you up now.” Mary shouted and I did.
CRAAACK! 
I was shuddering like anything as fresh air assaulted my nostrils. A hand touched mine and I clasped it… hairy, must be Bob’s and I cautiously tried to open one eye.
“Ahhh… lights down please…” I squealed through the gag. Closing it again as the shock battered me, thankfully they understood and I heard Mary run for the wall and banging something. “OK honey, just a few torches aglow now. Try again.”
This time was more successful and I was crying as I saw the two vague figures alongside me. They too were in tears and we held hands again. “There’s nothing left of you girl…” he exclaimed, stroking my torso and despite the fact I wanted out, just to be TOUCHED by a human again was enough.
Listening as my restraints were unlocked one by one, pressure on my limbs relaxing but I dared not move just yet as it hurt so much. Now the important one and Bob placed fingers on the mask and slowly lifted it up.
“Urrgghh…” I squealed as the gag slid out. Despite the fact I’d recently had a drink I was as dry as a bone. My tongue relieved to be able to stick it out! 
“Bloody hell… you look a mess!” I was told and somehow I grinned. A straw was shoved into me and I drained the whole lot in a couple of slurps.
Remembering one of the stories I so slooowly tried to lift my head up… and failed! Mary massaging my arms and gradually I was able to lift my hands up. Wincing as the pain tore through me. “This isn’t going to work,” Bob said half an hour later as I wailed again on trying to sit up. 
For a moment I thought… and stared at him in shock. “Don’t be daft Sally, you’re not going back down OK?” he joked, reaching in and patting my trembling hands. I smiled wryly and Mary grinned as I got a kiss. We discussed what they would do and Bob left and returned with another drink, this time apparently laced with painkillers. I paused then knocked it back; soon feeling nothing, as my limbs just seemed to lose any sensation, this followed by the rest of me fading away. Bob having said it was the best way to get me out.
What happened next was the thundering headache to beat all migraines I’d ever endured. Waking up in a bed in darkness as I realised my eyes were blindfolded. Wrists lightly bound in padded cuffs, these connected to a waist belt and for a moment I nearly panicked.
“It’s OK sweetheart, I’m here hon,” Mary said as I called out that I was awake. Muscles screaming in pain and she quickly undid my arms. “I’ll turn the lights down before you finish,” she said next so I waited. Wriggling slightly, luxuriating in silk and I assumed she’d done this for me. Finally I slipped it off and looked up to see mum properly and it felt good as she leaned in to kiss me.
Questions followed and Mary sat down and told me how they’d carried me upstairs where I’d been stripped and washed by mum alone then put to bed… two days ago! I’d slept solidly for thirty-six hours… wow! “Yeah, no wonder I feel shi… Oops, need to remember my manners now,” I chuckled and that got me a hug.
Mary acknowledged this and allowed me to sit up, well she helped me, as I couldn’t quite manage that on my own. From here I could see my face in the dressing table mirror and I was appalled. Running both hands over my torso and I was concerned. “Wow, too skinny… not good.” I said and she agreed, saying once I could eat proper food that I needed to get back up to a healthier weight for my height. “Another week or so down there and you’d have been in REAL trouble young lady. I hope… this’ll be the last time you… it’s SO silly for you to keep hiding away like this. Please darling, don’t go down there again…” Taking my hands and kissing them.
I knew she meant well but I sighed, trying not to look upset. “Yeah, I know, but it’s just the way I am Mary. Been like it my whole life as Bob’s probably said, yes?” She replied that they’d spent many hours discussing me, worried that I could need proper psychiatric care if this went too far, but hearing that I was adamant it’d not be happening. “No way, not gonna have someone poking round my head love… period. If you want I’ll talk to Milly or one of my other friends but please… just accept me for what I am. I’ll try to improve I promise.”
She looked at me and finally nodded. “OK, I had to ask Sal, just to see what you’d say. I’ll hold you to your word though. Now it’s nearly lunchtime, fancy trying to get up?”
I grinned and she fetched the kimono as I tried to swing my legs out, somehow succeeding and before long I was upright. Felt horrendous and Mary had to support me for a while as I was walked up and down the room but I was pleased to eventually get in and out of the bathroom unaided. We lurched downstairs and I nearly tripped over my nightie hem, Mary catching me well. Into the kitchen I went, mum behind me and Bob turned, a smile on his face.
“Hiya sweetheart, welcome back,” he grinned and we came close for a hug and kiss. Then I headed for the table and just made it. Flopping into the seat as my head started spinning. Coffee was served into a beaker with straw and it went down a treat. They left me alone in there for a while with a newspaper, the pair obviously talking somewhere else but they did come back an hour later and Bob made lunch for us all.
That was the start of my rehabilitation, a great omelette dinner following, I didn’t even know dad could cook one! “All this time you’ve kept that quiet…” I joked and they both chuckled and gradually they debriefed me as to what had gone on, both their honeymoon, and I remembered to ask Bob how his wrist was. 
“It’s OK Sally. But now you’re our most important worry. Need to get you fit and healthy again. I know what you and Mary discussed upstairs… and despite my best thoughts I’m not going to close the room up. Looks like we’re going to have to accept you as things are. We’ll let you use your coffin for trialing stuff or the odd weekend. But young lady, if you want to go down and be caged too there then the minimum burial time will be a month… no less. Sorry but it’s bloody exhausting digging you out each time. We ached as bad as you did yesterday…” I bridled at that and he waited for the explosion, which never came as I suspected he was testing me. 
I surrendered and gave them both hugs before asking to go back upstairs before I fell asleep again. Mary took me and after looking through their trip photos I was put to bed again, this time unbound.
Over the next few months I was good as gold as I recovered, thankfully with little side effects. “Even your head is getting better,” Bob quipped one day. My friends were glad I was back, Milly especially and we Skype each other at least twice a week. Her relationship with the fellow Californian hasn’t lasted, he got busted for something serious and she was very upset. Least I was able to understand that, Mary saw us talking that night for hours but Mil at least was able to smile by the end of it. “Thanks love, glad to be a help, just wish I could meet you over there sometime.” I replied, hoping that I could have another holiday in the States out of it. 
They finally allowed me to get a part-time volunteer job at the local library and that did wonders for my self-esteem, way better than they imagined. Mind you it’s probably the noisiest place of learning in our town as I chat to other ladies. We giggle watching blokes furtively going into the ‘adult’ section… if only they knew that the primly dressed twenty-something manning the desk has ‘appeared in Vegas!’ 
Didn’t even need to go into the coffin room though I knew Bob was tidying it up. Smoothing out concrete edging, saying that ‘if’ there was a next time it’d just be soil. Eventually curiosity won the battle and I persuaded him to let me in one afternoon while Mary was out for a reason I didn’t know. The carpet and a load of wooden planks were pulled back to reveal his labours. Looking down I was pleased the cage was still there, noticing it WAS anchored after all, heavy bolts at each corner. The sides sloped up from the plinth, a proper staircase at the opposite end from the pipe channel.
Bob led me down and I patted the cage, smiling at an old friend and he grinned at me. “Fancy a quick go?” he asked and I paused. “Well… quick is a month yes?” he nodded and I pouted royally. “Not fair, you teasing me…” but I was smiling and went to climb out. “It’s a month IF you’re in the coffin Sally, but just in the cage, well that is different.”
I stared at him and he flipped up the latches then opened the top and peered in then pointed. “I’ll let you have an hour inside Sally before tea.” That got him a hug and I hurried upstairs to use my bathroom. Arriving back to see he was down there with a box of restraints, locks and so on. Blankets and pillow laid there for ‘comfort’ as he attached some manacles to each corner.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally 4</title><link>/stories/2015/07/09/subterranean-sally-4/</link><pubDate>Thu, 09 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/07/09/subterranean-sally-4/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="subterraneansally3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Subterranean Sally 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Four&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I lay there for ages crying into the mask. Feeling betrayed like her in the story, but knowing it was my fault just made it worse. Bob was obviously scared that I’d placed myself in danger again and maybe this ‘extra’ time might snap me out of it.
Repeatedly I replayed that moment upstairs, swishing happily around and grabbing the locket, one of two that I’d kept of Donna’s… this one white, the other black… “OH BLAST!” I screamed into the gag, now remembering the safe key WAS IN THE OTHER ONE! Weeping now at my carelessness, I’d kept the key in there because I’d worn that one with a dark blue dress for the night at the hotel with my girlfriends!
So ‘all I had to do’ was wait for Bob’ to re-establish my text capabilty… so I settled down. Worked hard at doing my exercises and prayed like heck it’d only be the first week…
It took nearly a month!
The screen startled me and I’d almost forgotten how the keyboard worked when I saw communications were up. Bob and Mary standing there and it was mum who was tapping.
‘Dearest Sally. We’re sorry to have kept you down there honey, but felt…’
They stopped as a flow of gibberish came across. I cursed and backspaced, tapping quickly in case he switched me off again.
‘Hi guys, welcome back. But dad, I feel so stupud. My safe key is in the OTHER locket… can you go and chekc’ he read, ignoring the spelling mistakes and I saw his head resting against Mary’s shoulders for a moment. 
He quickly left the room and I nervously waited, my eyes struggling to focus as I’d been in virtual darkness for so long. Muscle-wise I felt really bad, the cramps just permenantly painful now and I swore this was going to be the LAST time I’d be ever down here. He returned waving the key and the ring full of padlock ones. Mary leapt up and embraced him, both bursting into tears and I was crying too, hoping he’d whip the wardrobe doors open and start up the jackhammer… 
‘OK sweetheart. We really should have checked ourselves. I’m gonna kick myself for ages. So I’ll start freeing you tomorrow morning. It’s Sunday night and a bit late to start drilling now…’
I cursed unladylike but knew he wouldn’t budge.
‘Fair enough, and again I’m sorry. I’ve been exercising but still feel shi… Sorry rotten’ I tapped, grinning when Mary waggled a mocking finger. We ‘chatted’ a lot more and eventually an hour later they signed off with virtual hugs, Bob switching my movies and music back on. ‘You’ll need them to drown out the drill eh?’
He was right and I suffered horribly next afternoon as the thundering grew louder. At one point I started tapping out for him to STOP and cover me up again! Thankfully that got backspaced before he saw it. The pair worked SO hard and I screamed with delight when a big chunk of concrete was levered away and I saw the bars of my cage. Now the real delicate work started as they chiselled and dug deeper using manual tools as they worked more out from inside the cage bars. One thump made the coffin creak and I saw Mary gesturing, Bob now realising he’d go through the wood if he wasn’t careful.
The sight of Bob unlocking the cage reduced me to tears of joy. Each one was waved to the camera and I squealed when the last came off and was crying when the top bars were removed. But after hours of labour I sensed they were exhausted just as I could see the full length of the lid. If they carried on they’d be here a long time til I could get up from the casket. Then be taken upstairs and so on.
‘Hey guys, I know you’re close but if you’re getting tired then carry on tomorrow, yes? I don’t want you knackered and the bit getting me out of here will take a long time. Bob I can see you flexing that wrist. Have breaks… before you do some mischief.’    
They cuddled and I saw Mary talking and agreement was reached.
‘OK sweetie, glad you understand and thanks for that, look forward to seeing you in the morning.’
I never slept that night, constantly flicking between cameras and movies heart leaping when I finally saw them reappearing.
‘Hi darling, hope you’re OK. We’re a lot better today so be patient. Think of that lovely bath waiting for you’ Mary wrote and I grinned, trying to ignore the fact that my body odour was starting to affect my nasal passages. Not a real stink but noticeable all the same.
The hoist was brought in to lift me out. Mary warning the power was about to go out briefly. I held my breath obviously and sighed on feeling the coffin lurching upwards… stopping soon afterwards and everything returning, air and light, enabling me to watch as they swung me over onto the carpet. My eyes were streaming with tears as I heard the popping of the covers then the magical wrrring.
“Brace yourself Sally, eyes closed please darling. We’re opening you up now.” Mary shouted and I did.
CRAAACK! 
I was shuddering like anything as fresh air assaulted my nostrils. A hand touched mine and I clasped it… hairy, must be Bob’s and I cautiously tried to open one eye.
“Ahhh… lights down please…” I squealed through the gag. Closing it again as the shock battered me, thankfully they understood and I heard Mary run for the wall and banging something. “OK honey, just a few torches aglow now. Try again.”
This time was more successful and I was crying as I saw the two vague figures alongside me. They too were in tears and we held hands again. “There’s nothing left of you girl…” he exclaimed, stroking my torso and despite the fact I wanted out, just to be TOUCHED by a human again was enough.
Listening as my restraints were unlocked one by one, pressure on my limbs relaxing but I dared not move just yet as it hurt so much. Now the important one and Bob placed fingers on the mask and slowly lifted it up.
“Urrgghh…” I squealed as the gag slid out. Despite the fact I’d recently had a drink I was as dry as a bone. My tongue relieved to be able to stick it out! 
“Bloody hell… you look a mess!” I was told and somehow I grinned. A straw was shoved into me and I drained the whole lot in a couple of slurps.
Remembering one of the stories I so slooowly tried to lift my head up… and failed! Mary massaging my arms and gradually I was able to lift my hands up. Wincing as the pain tore through me. “This isn’t going to work,” Bob said half an hour later as I wailed again on trying to sit up. 
For a moment I thought… and stared at him in shock. “Don’t be daft Sally, you’re not going back down OK?” he joked, reaching in and patting my trembling hands. I smiled wryly and Mary grinned as I got a kiss. We discussed what they would do and Bob left and returned with another drink, this time apparently laced with painkillers. I paused then knocked it back; soon feeling nothing, as my limbs just seemed to lose any sensation, this followed by the rest of me fading away. Bob having said it was the best way to get me out.
What happened next was the thundering headache to beat all migraines I’d ever endured. Waking up in a bed in darkness as I realised my eyes were blindfolded. Wrists lightly bound in padded cuffs, these connected to a waist belt and for a moment I nearly panicked.
“It’s OK sweetheart, I’m here hon,” Mary said as I called out that I was awake. Muscles screaming in pain and she quickly undid my arms. “I’ll turn the lights down before you finish,” she said next so I waited. Wriggling slightly, luxuriating in silk and I assumed she’d done this for me. Finally I slipped it off and looked up to see mum properly and it felt good as she leaned in to kiss me.
Questions followed and Mary sat down and told me how they’d carried me upstairs where I’d been stripped and washed by mum alone then put to bed… two days ago! I’d slept solidly for thirty-six hours… wow! “Yeah, no wonder I feel shi… Oops, need to remember my manners now,” I chuckled and that got me a hug.
Mary acknowledged this and allowed me to sit up, well she helped me, as I couldn’t quite manage that on my own. From here I could see my face in the dressing table mirror and I was appalled. Running both hands over my torso and I was concerned. “Wow, too skinny… not good.” I said and she agreed, saying once I could eat proper food that I needed to get back up to a healthier weight for my height. “Another week or so down there and you’d have been in REAL trouble young lady. I hope… this’ll be the last time you… it’s SO silly for you to keep hiding away like this. Please darling, don’t go down there again…” Taking my hands and kissing them.
I knew she meant well but I sighed, trying not to look upset. “Yeah, I know, but it’s just the way I am Mary. Been like it my whole life as Bob’s probably said, yes?” She replied that they’d spent many hours discussing me, worried that I could need proper psychiatric care if this went too far, but hearing that I was adamant it’d not be happening. “No way, not gonna have someone poking round my head love… period. If you want I’ll talk to Milly or one of my other friends but please… just accept me for what I am. I’ll try to improve I promise.”
She looked at me and finally nodded. “OK, I had to ask Sal, just to see what you’d say. I’ll hold you to your word though. Now it’s nearly lunchtime, fancy trying to get up?”
I grinned and she fetched the kimono as I tried to swing my legs out, somehow succeeding and before long I was upright. Felt horrendous and Mary had to support me for a while as I was walked up and down the room but I was pleased to eventually get in and out of the bathroom unaided. We lurched downstairs and I nearly tripped over my nightie hem, Mary catching me well. Into the kitchen I went, mum behind me and Bob turned, a smile on his face.
“Hiya sweetheart, welcome back,” he grinned and we came close for a hug and kiss. Then I headed for the table and just made it. Flopping into the seat as my head started spinning. Coffee was served into a beaker with straw and it went down a treat. They left me alone in there for a while with a newspaper, the pair obviously talking somewhere else but they did come back an hour later and Bob made lunch for us all.
That was the start of my rehabilitation, a great omelette dinner following, I didn’t even know dad could cook one! “All this time you’ve kept that quiet…” I joked and they both chuckled and gradually they debriefed me as to what had gone on, both their honeymoon, and I remembered to ask Bob how his wrist was. 
“It’s OK Sally. But now you’re our most important worry. Need to get you fit and healthy again. I know what you and Mary discussed upstairs… and despite my best thoughts I’m not going to close the room up. Looks like we’re going to have to accept you as things are. We’ll let you use your coffin for trialing stuff or the odd weekend. But young lady, if you want to go down and be caged too there then the minimum burial time will be a month… no less. Sorry but it’s bloody exhausting digging you out each time. We ached as bad as you did yesterday…” I bridled at that and he waited for the explosion, which never came as I suspected he was testing me. 
I surrendered and gave them both hugs before asking to go back upstairs before I fell asleep again. Mary took me and after looking through their trip photos I was put to bed again, this time unbound.
Over the next few months I was good as gold as I recovered, thankfully with little side effects. “Even your head is getting better,” Bob quipped one day. My friends were glad I was back, Milly especially and we Skype each other at least twice a week. Her relationship with the fellow Californian hasn’t lasted, he got busted for something serious and she was very upset. Least I was able to understand that, Mary saw us talking that night for hours but Mil at least was able to smile by the end of it. “Thanks love, glad to be a help, just wish I could meet you over there sometime.” I replied, hoping that I could have another holiday in the States out of it. 
They finally allowed me to get a part-time volunteer job at the local library and that did wonders for my self-esteem, way better than they imagined. Mind you it’s probably the noisiest place of learning in our town as I chat to other ladies. We giggle watching blokes furtively going into the ‘adult’ section… if only they knew that the primly dressed twenty-something manning the desk has ‘appeared in Vegas!’ 
Didn’t even need to go into the coffin room though I knew Bob was tidying it up. Smoothing out concrete edging, saying that ‘if’ there was a next time it’d just be soil. Eventually curiosity won the battle and I persuaded him to let me in one afternoon while Mary was out for a reason I didn’t know. The carpet and a load of wooden planks were pulled back to reveal his labours. Looking down I was pleased the cage was still there, noticing it WAS anchored after all, heavy bolts at each corner. The sides sloped up from the plinth, a proper staircase at the opposite end from the pipe channel.
Bob led me down and I patted the cage, smiling at an old friend and he grinned at me. “Fancy a quick go?” he asked and I paused. “Well… quick is a month yes?” he nodded and I pouted royally. “Not fair, you teasing me…” but I was smiling and went to climb out. “It’s a month IF you’re in the coffin Sally, but just in the cage, well that is different.”
I stared at him and he flipped up the latches then opened the top and peered in then pointed. “I’ll let you have an hour inside Sally before tea.” That got him a hug and I hurried upstairs to use my bathroom. Arriving back to see he was down there with a box of restraints, locks and so on. Blankets and pillow laid there for ‘comfort’ as he attached some manacles to each corner.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally</title><link>/stories/2015/02/05/subterranean-sally/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Feb 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/02/05/subterranean-sally/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I knew my father kept an old coffin at his house having used it regularly for a Halloween stunt when I was a teenager. Myself in a frock and shut inside the old thing as he and some mates wheeled it around the streets. ‘Rising from the dead’ and scaring the crap out of people, all in the name of charity mind and as a family we’d raised a fortune over the years.
Now with my mother gone and me having moved home to look after him it had become a chance to play a bit more. Bob didn’t mind and occasionally he took part. One memorable day he allowed me to wear one of mum’s dresses then locked me inside! I can safely say my heart was pounding!
So when I read a series of stories on Gromet about girls who liked dressing up and being shut in coffins I decided I wanted to do it again. Showing the site to dad…only to find he’d known about it for years! And Mum too…was a serious addict and so he told me a lot of what they’d done. “We played a lot more than I care to admit, but nice to see you’re not too sweet and innocent to understand!”
Talking to Bob one day over breakfast about this he grinned and said he’d made a few adjustments to it recently but would not elaborate, even when I nudged him. “You’ll find out soon enough young lady,” he said. I smiled inside but made sure he couldn’t read my thoughts. With today being my day off…it was gonna be playtime…
Once he’d gone to work I did all the housework and washing which took all morning, prepared the slow-cooker for our dinner tonight and so on. But after my lunch I realised that I couldn’t put it off…I HAD to see what those adjustments were. Hurrying into the basement I locked the door before approaching the coffin. Flipping the lid up I stared…and was amazed.
He’d certainly worked hard as I looked down, seeing the metalwork now installed at three places inside. One set of loops was for the ankles; the second would be for the waist with small wrist loops each side, while the last was obviously a collar to go round my neck. I was impressed, seeing they were padded, the same colour as the satin lining…and I wanted to try them out. A tug proved the loops were all locked and I groaned, as he must have known I’d come down so secured everything to stop me trying.
Turning away I was amazed…and delighted to see a bunch of keys hanging nearby from a hook! Surely these were not for…but a close examination proved that they were! Nervously I placed one in the collar and twisted…
Clunk!
A real solid sound and I shuddered as the collar lifted up, it was 3cm steel and gleamed almost like my eyes were probably doing. Pushing it down then turning that key hearing the clunk again. Soon the others were unlocked and to test myself a bit I leaned in and placed a wrist into the loop by the belt. Flipping the top across it gripped firmly, the leather padding cool but tight on my skin. Another clunk as I locked it and by now my breathing was shallowing!
I couldn’t wait and hurried upstairs to use the loo then get changed into something better than shorts and T-shirt. My wardrobe isn’t that ‘girlie’ as I work in an office where staid trouser-suits are the norm. It stops the truck drivers ogling my legs too, something I’ve hated forever and a day. But today was a ‘me’ day so dress it was, my favourite off-white number, calf length and lovely in silk, capped sleeves and everything. Cost me £200, and I have three of them, one is black but worth every cent, the 3-inch heels that go with them are nice if not comfortable for that long. Quickly I got dressed, being this naughty I was soon wearing stockings too. A slip inside then I zipped myself into the frock. Strapping the shoes on I was soon strutting downstairs and back to the basement.
The door was locked again, keys tossed onto the bench and I headed for the coffin. Carrying my penis gag and a blindfold too to heighten my bondage experience. While Bob of course knew of my bondage fetish I naturally had never let him tie me up, the coffin yes but no more. Donna however had loved it and my parents spent many an hour down here, so now I guess daughters inherit all good traits from their mothers!
Firstly I eased myself into the coffin, making sure the lid was folded right back onto the floor, settling my ass just below the belt and easing both ankles into their loops but not yet locking them as I tidied the folds of my dress. I could already feel wetness amidships and was glad I’d donned a second set of panties. 
Then I lay back and rested my head onto the satin cushion, seeing the thick steel loop sticking up to my right with the belt one visible as well because it’s longer. He’d measured this perfectly as my neck rested in the base of the collar. Slowly I reached down and lowered the belt, having to suck in a bit, as it wouldn’t quite meet the base. So to make sure I got the effect…I needed to lock it!
Getting out for a moment I pondered, whether to finally ask Bob to do it tonight or just have a self-bondage session now…and I could not stand the thought of having to wait another 3 hours for him to return!
Soon I was back inside and this time I locked my ankles into the loops. Sure that they felt tighter once I heard the clicks, guess my overwrought imagination… once I’d tidied my dress I lay back again, then realised the gag and blindfold were outside. Grumbling I reached over the edge and retrieved both, applying the gag and doing my hair once lying flat again. Now was a big moment as I eased the belt shut and locked it. The band was firmly pressing into me and I shuddered then reached for the collar. That too was secured and I was happy, then tried to lock my left wrist into the cuff, but couldn’t reach or see what I was doing. So I undid the loop around my neck and sat up.
Now I wanted to lock everything but of course would not be able to do both wrists…or could I? Spending a few moments blundering about and I sighed. So freed myself and went for another bathroom visit and drink while thinking about what lay beneath my feet.
But I just couldn’t stop and an hour late I was once more settling into the coffin and running through a checklist. 
Ankles locked.
Left wrist locked.
Belt locked.
Gag on.
Blindfold on.
So I reached up and secured the collar then removed the keys and having found the right tape marked one placed it into the lock above where my other wrist would go. Then I shuddered and laid my arm into the loop and by twisting my fingers was able to snap the metal over the top. It rested fine and I imagined the key turning…ohh lovely and I grinned behind the gag as my middle digit felt the edge over to…and TOUCHED the barrel of the key!
I’d forgotten where the key was in relation to the wristcuffs then remembered it was over to the side because the lock fed into the loop. So could it mean? And I paused…then did it. Rubbing my finger along it, pressing as hard as I could, feeling resistance…then it moved…
CLUNK!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally 3</title><link>/stories/2015/02/05/subterranean-sally-3/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Feb 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/02/05/subterranean-sally-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="subterraneansally2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;One that I thought was going well over the next six months or so. Mary was becoming a frequent visitor to the house. In fact one day I’d arrived back from work expecting them to be home but Bob was alone. Querying this he seemed surprised then admitted she’d gone dress shopping. “Not for THAT type of dress love…,” he said quickly enough but I suspected an announcement might be sooner than later. 
Downstairs too was becoming interesting. Not just Dad and Mary, but Ms Harrison and myself! I’d surrendered my vibrator to her one morning, spending the rest of the next two hours regretting this. “Come on love, just one more for the sisterhood, surely you can take it…” she muttered as I hung there blown away by a series of explosive ones!
While she didn’t understand my coffin and the ideas behind it she didn’t mind if I played in it. The two of them locked me in one afternoon and I lay there listening as he took her circuit training, round the playroom rather than a gym. Over the next what seemed to me like hours he tickled, thrashed, more tickling then finally vibrated her to a climax! Her squealing woke me up from a snooze! 
Once I thought it long enough I quietly knocked on the lid (my wrists were not secured) and Bob released his girl. Me looking at a tired Mary wrapped in blankets and asleep on the bondage bed. We cuddled and I asked if I should free her. Bob cruelly shook his head no then carefully padlocked the cage shut with my assistance. Leaving her cellphone dangling off the bars. Upstairs much later on I received a call from a desperate lady who needed the loo!
They got engaged on Christmas Day, fifteen months after our USA trip. Bob having asked me first if I minded. Of course I didn’t, she loved us both now and I was in tears when he popped the question after a great dinner made by me and she’d said yes. “Least you’ll be able to remember that date,” I laughed and got hugs for that.
The wedding was planned for the summer but I was amazed when in March Bob announced he was selling his company and retiring. He’s only 55 I thought and was a little dismayed at that. “Oh, I thought you’d be happy that I’d be here. As you’ll be leaving too, we’re gonna have more than enough money for years to come, yes?”
I wasn’t however. My role might be small in the company but I’d earned it on merit and was proud of that. While being ‘the boss’ girl had helped there were some who’d thought otherwise but I proved to them that I was capable, now he was taking it away. Didn’t he understand that I wanted to earn my own money, also you easily get bored if playtime is all the time and we had a frosty talk that afternoon and he groaned when I got stroppy. “I’ll help Mary with her work as she wants me and Milly to model the restraints for the calendar, but I’m not leaving, OK?” He sighed and nodded then left me be.
My pigheadedness came back to haunt me. Within two months of him leaving I was forced out, devastated to have been told I was being demoted to secretary rather than the managerial position I occupied. The new owner regarded women in engineering companies as ‘tea-girls and typists’ so if I didn’t comply then tough luck. A long tearful chat with Mary and Bob that night was enough and my notice went in next morning. 
So now unemployed but after moping about getting in Bob’s way I decided to have a weekend in the coffin to do some thinking alone. He seemed quick to comply and helped set things up on the Friday, the drinks and stuff much tastier now I’d worked out how to get it right. Also teaching Mary how it worked. The lid went down and he screwed me closed. I half hoped he’d bury me but instead shifted the casket to one side and they didn’t use the basement at all. A nice quiet weekend followed and I was much happier when freedom came on the Sunday night. 
Mary moved in two months before the big day as she had offers for her place. A fat cheque landed in our accounts even after the eye-watering tax bill and she was quick to see I got a share. Grateful for that we went to for a little dinner to celebrate. Both of us looked great, me in my black dress, Mary in the midnight blue outfit worn the night we’d had in San Francisco. After the meal I bumped into a couple of former work colleagues and decided to allow the others to go home while I stayed out for an hour or so. “You behave yourself, young lady,” he grinned waggling a finger and Mary chuckled.
“Nearly thirty now, I can cope! Besides I’ve had my regulation two drinks, I’m only on the coffee now,” I grinned and waved them off, Margie and Katryn waiting patiently by the door. We went back in, sat down with a steaming jug of best Colombian brew and I caught up on news from ‘the coalface’ Marge saying it was bad there now, both women were thinking of quitting. “You got out just in time Sally love, we’re going to give it another month then I‘m out too. Kat will probably follow,” and I saw her nodding.
A tray of cocktails arrived twenty minutes later and I looked at the others, none of us had ordered and I was puzzled til the bartender said three guys in the corner had sent them across. We turned and saw my nemesis from the company and two of Bob’s engineers, one who’d left shortly before me, Maurice raising his pint glass in salute. “Guess it’s a ‘no-hard-feelings’ round,” I joked and the others grinned. We dithered as they were rather OTT for us, blue green and lastly an orange one with cherries and stuff jutting out on sticks. “Girlie drinks, for girlies I’ll bet they’re probably saying,” Kat joked and we all giggled. 
“Well, a shame to waste them…girlies…” I smiled so picked the green one, Marge went for blue leaving Kat, with orange. “Bottom’s up…” Katryn said then I daintily sipped mine, hoping it’d be some sort of mint flavouring. I rolled it over my tongue… 
“Oh bloody hell…” I wheezed, trying not to cough, “It’s foul, what the heck is it…?” and Marge stared at me having knocked half of hers back. “Water…quickly Sal…” she muttered and thankfully this place has iced jugs of the stuff on a central table. I came back and she grabbed a glass and put that back in one. “I’m gonna complain ‘bout these,” Katryn growled and I was nodding, water being drunk now as I tried to get the taste out of my mouth. 
Margie sat there staring at the remains of her drink and I thought she was shaking. “You alright Ma…?” I began and she shook her head. “No, I feel rubbish…” she muttered and I turned to look at Maurice’s gathering to see what their reaction was, only to see they’d gone! The bartender wiping down the table as he cleared the glasses. We needed help and I went across, not feeling that brilliant myself now as I reached him.
“Excuse me buddy,” I said, tapping his arm. “Those drinks you gave us that these guys bought, I think they’ve been spiked. My mates are in trouble,” and he turned to look in surprise. Seeing me standing there, looking peaky and his face fell as he peered over my shoulder at Marge who was leaning back, eyes closed with Kat coughing too. “OK missy, you go sit down, I’ll call for an ambulance, OK?” I nodded and thanked him, wobbling back to the corner, falling into my seat and I looked back to see him on the phone, waving off a customer who wanted serving. 
He came across with a bucket and towels, just in time as Margie grabbed it and threw up, thankfully straight into it. “Right, done the call love, they’re a bit busy so it’ll be as fast as poss, OK?” 
Well it wasn’t but at least he was serious and I thanked him, asking the guy to shoo off a couple of people watching us. He did so and they left, one saying women shouldn’t be drinking if they couldn’t handle it! I told him in no certain terms to clear off and a few people stared at me. Feeling shameful seeing Kat was crying, Margie slumped against the cushions and she really was shaking now. I was pleased to hear sirens getting closer and soon I was wincing as they were right outside, the lights flashing SO brightly.
Two guys thundered in, hi-viz jackets a welcome sight as their bags dropped onto the sofas and they began working on us, naturally Margie was first while an arriving police officer sat down and tried talking to me about what happened. I wasn’t really in the mood, my mouth was dry despite the water but I gradually told him. Naming the three guys but the copper said he didn’t believe me! “You girls just cannot handle your booze! I’ve seen it too often in this town.” Even the bartender got brushed off when he tried to confirm what I’d said was the truth. Raising his voice and the officer told him to back off. I was getting anxious now, tears not far away because of his attitude. 
“Think you better ring his station, get a real one here, not a guy on a power trip” I said to the barman who did his best not to grin. Only for officer idiot to reach over and jab a finger into my chest telling me to shut up. However it went further forward than he expected and it poked me on the nipple. “You dirty bastard!” I shouted, making more people turn and stare. I also swatted his hand away and he jumped to his feet while I staggered to mine.
“Right, you’re under arrest love…” he snapped, reaching for his cuffs and even the paramedics looked up from their work on Katryn and one protested, “she’s done nothing wrong, leave her be…” But before I could react he’d cuffed my left arm and was twisting it behind me. I squealed and he grinned then grabbed my other arm, slapping it in and securing them tight. Now I really screamed as he pushed me down onto the sofa, my head striking the side and I felt faint now as he stood there warning me not to struggle or else. Getting on his radio to try calling for reinforcements. 
The only help that arrived was for me. Several guys came over having realised what was happening, two of them grabbing the officer and wrestling him to the floor and now it really kicked off. Someone, an older lady even helped me sit down, my head pounding and I felt sick, but with the damn cuffs on could do nothing except cry and she wiped my eyes with a tissue, that bit of kindness probably stopping me freaking out. 
A hulking great guy found the handcuff keys in the struggling policeman’s uniform and freed me, saying he was actually a fellow officer, a Detective Inspector no less but from a different station and he’d sort this out. Showing the ambulanceman his warrant card and Jason, the kindly medic nodded to me. “It’s gen missy and thanks Sir, now lets get you treated love.”
My wrists had marks on from the cuffs and he fed me painkillers or something like that. Making me drink way too much liquid too and I desperately needed the loo. The lady who’d done my face took me there, turned out she was the D.I’s wife and we vanished into the disabled cubicle where I vomited explosively into the bowl. I didn’t realise that was the intention, to flush the drugs out of my system but she waited till my heaving stopped, turning round and I paused… “I’ll wait outside honey,” she chuckled and stepped away, closing the door allowing me privacy.
Emerging after a clean up, with empty bowels I grinned tiredly but was worried about what Bob and Mary would say when they found out. Mrs D.I helped me reaffix my slap then led me back to the bar. Most of the crowd had gone, so had Margie and Kat in the ambulance but I shuddered on seeing more policemen there, convinced they would arrest me again. But my helper’s husband was doing a sterling job, having witnessed the whole thing and soon I watched my second nemesis being cuffed and led away by others. 
I gave a statement then asked about getting a taxi home, only for Bob and Mary to come in moments later and they looked aghast. I burst into tears again, rushing into their arms and hugging both tightly to me. The D.I sat us down and assured me that no further action was being taken against me, but that it was unlikely that they’d be able to prove it was Maurice or his cohorts who’d drugged our drinks. Even the barman was appalled, he’d deposited the tray on their table, only to be called five minutes later and told to bring them to ours. “It HAD to be them, Sir,” he stormed and I nodded in agreement but just wanted to go home and forget about it.
Mary drove us back and I thanked them with hugs before fleeing in tears to my room. Bob later knocked on the door but I refused to open it and he said if I needed him I just had to ask. Right now I wanted to be alone and politely said so, blew a kiss then threw myself into bed.
That event really battered my self-confidence, way more than the demotion. I was convinced everyone had it in for me and panicked when asked to go to the shops. Mary did a magnificent job and after two weeks of ‘house arrest’ she coaxed me into town to pick up the dress I’d be wearing for their wedding. Not quite a bridemaids’ one but an outfit to do me justice. The smile I had on modelling it in the shop proved that maybe I was getting over it now. 
Not so when we got confirmation that the inquiries were being dropped and I began to worry again. Even Bob was starting to get concerned. They were due on honeymoon three days after the wedding, but if I couldn’t get a grip then they might have to cancel it. “Well how else can we get round it?” he sighed in the kitchen. I managed not to throw a strop and said I would consider staying in my coffin for that time til they returned.
Mary was amazed at the idea. “But it’s almost three weeks darling, surely your food and stuff would run out?” she said but I shook my head. “No, I’ve been tweaking the system for a long time, testing it for ages. It’s why I haven’t used it for a month while checking out ideas. I know it’ll be fine, trust me guys.”
They sent me outside to cut the lawn and discussed it and on return an hour later gave their consent. But suggested I Skype Milly first to ask her opinion. Mary knew I talked often with the Californian so that night I called her. Upset to discover Mil couldn’t get a visa to attend the wedding having been invited so commiserations were offered. We talked for ages and I said what I’d proposed. “Well if that’s your way of dealing with it Sal, and your folks okay it then I guess it’s a yes from me too. You’re a wacko love, just let me know when you ‘return’ OK?” I agreed, waved her goodbye and switched off. I went downstairs and looked at them. Mary knew and came across and hugged me. “OK honey, we’ll do it.” Bob nodding and I challenged him to make me safer than ever before. “Yes sweetheart, I’ll try to do that. I promise.”
The wedding was a quiet affair. Just them and me, two of my girlfriends and some of Bob and Mary’s closest acquaintances at the registry office. I managed not to sob as I handed the rings over, feeling nice in my new dress and heels. Once the event was done we had the reception at a local pub and soon they retired to the house, I went to a hotel with my friends to give them space and this time we managed not to get in any trouble!   
Since deciding to ‘go down’ for the time required I’d been asked not to go below stairs. Bob worked tirelessly alone doing heaven knows what. Mary and I went out frequently at his request sometimes all day and I’d love to know what he was up to. But a promise of ‘no peeking’ was to be obeyed or I’d have to stay up.
Now the day dawned and Mary helped me dress. And what an outfit too, not a real bridal gown but a formal silk one all the same. No train or veils but it looked stunning and I cried when she first showed it to me. “I read the stories love, it’s the best I could do…” she said and got buried in hugs. Make-up and hair followed then finest underwear was supplied and she allowed me to fit the tubes alone.
I was trembling as finally I was eased into the frock and it was drawn around me and zipped to my neck, lastly stepping into three-inch heels. Going to my dressing table I grabbed one of Donna’s favourite lockets from my jewellery box and slipped the necklace around. Dropping it inside the dress where it nestled into my cleavage. Mary took many photos then showed me them and I nearly wept again. “Don’t you dare smudge…” she joked, holding hands as I promised her I’d be alright. “I know darling, its going to be painful for us to be apart but I understand.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bondage Peril - The Concrete Crypt</title><link>/stories/2014/08/18/bondage-peril-the-concrete-crypt/</link><pubDate>Mon, 18 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/08/18/bondage-peril-the-concrete-crypt/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Daniel began to stir, his head fuzzy and aching. At first he was dimly unaware of anything, semi-conscious and struggling to open his eyes. His head throbbed as he shook it, trying to shake off the sleep that was trying to draw him back into unconsciousness. Awareness flickered as he tried to rub his eyes and realised that he couldn’t move his arms. Struggling to make sense of things, he opened his eyes and saw&amp;hellip;nothing. Pitch black. What was this? His arms were pinned behind him. A few moments of struggle revealed that he was tied up.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Bondage Peril - The Concrete Crypt</title><link>/stories/2014/08/18/bondage-peril-the-concrete-crypt/</link><pubDate>Mon, 18 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/08/18/bondage-peril-the-concrete-crypt/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Daniel began to stir, his head fuzzy and aching. At first he was dimly unaware of anything, semi-conscious and struggling to open his eyes. His head throbbed as he shook it, trying to shake off the sleep that was trying to draw him back into unconsciousness. Awareness flickered as he tried to rub his eyes and realised that he couldn’t move his arms. Struggling to make sense of things, he opened his eyes and saw&amp;hellip;nothing. Pitch black. What was this? His arms were pinned behind him. A few moments of struggle revealed that he was tied up.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Return Home</title><link>/stories/2013/12/28/the-return-home/</link><pubDate>Sat, 28 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/12/28/the-return-home/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;For Marie to suggest that she wanted to tie him was unusual, normally, Alan had to ask for it and very rarely got what he wanted. Perhaps his wife of nearly 20 years was finally getting ‘kinky’.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Alan worked abroad a great deal, installing computer systems; some major installations could take him abroad for 6 months. He was home now and didn’t have any new jobs on the horizon, not a problem as he was so well paid the house, cars and boat were all paid for, and there was plenty of money in investments and savings, so he had suggested early retirement to Marie.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Return Home</title><link>/stories/2013/12/28/the-return-home/</link><pubDate>Sat, 28 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/12/28/the-return-home/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;For Marie to suggest that she wanted to tie him was unusual, normally, Alan had to ask for it and very rarely got what he wanted. Perhaps his wife of nearly 20 years was finally getting ‘kinky’.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Alan worked abroad a great deal, installing computer systems; some major installations could take him abroad for 6 months. He was home now and didn’t have any new jobs on the horizon, not a problem as he was so well paid the house, cars and boat were all paid for, and there was plenty of money in investments and savings, so he had suggested early retirement to Marie.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Stoned</title><link>/stories/2013/01/19/stoned/</link><pubDate>Sat, 19 Jan 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/01/19/stoned/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Although we are not particularly close, I’ve known Simon for about ten years, I’d guess. We both move in the same BDSM circles, sharing an interest in bondage (keeping handsome men in tight, gruelling and often long-lasting bondage, arses up in the air for a good seeing-to) rather than the whips, paddles and other bits the SM crowd prefer. To my surprise, he invited me back to his place tonight to look at his latest project. And so here I am in his bedroom, looking at a tomb stone placed where the headboard of the bed should be. And it is the weirdest grave stone I have ever seen.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trick Or Treat</title><link>/stories/2012/10/30/trick-or-treat/</link><pubDate>Tue, 30 Oct 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/10/30/trick-or-treat/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A Halloween Special 2012 Tale&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;October 31st, 2009, Halloween&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Horsten Torrens-Sloan hurled the letter angrily at the pile of documents that had piled up on his desk. This was the final straw. He’d already known that the once respected merchant bank that managed the majority of his investments had collapsed; his accountant’s letter merely confirmed that they had no assets worth pursuing in the courts.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Whatever the details, Horsten’s circumstances were now much diminished. His seemingly inexhaustible wealth was gone. He would be able to live, but it would be a miserable, frugal existence and not the luxury that he had known over the last fifty two years. If only he could get rid of the house, he would be much better off in terms of capital and reduced expenses, but that simply wasn’t an option. The house had become a millstone around his neck.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Floored - The Consequences of Betrayal</title><link>/stories/2011/12/12/floored-the-consequences-of-betrayal/</link><pubDate>Mon, 12 Dec 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/12/12/floored-the-consequences-of-betrayal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned… Or so they say. A woman betrayed will act completely out of character, full of venom, driven by impulse almost to the very point of murder even! And Kate of course is no different….&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A seventeen year relationship is one that by definition must be incredibly strong and difficult to break, and when it does become broken a woman can act impulsively, and dangerously, just as Alan is about to find out.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Floored - The Consequences of Betrayal</title><link>/stories/2011/12/12/floored-the-consequences-of-betrayal/</link><pubDate>Mon, 12 Dec 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/12/12/floored-the-consequences-of-betrayal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned… Or so they say. A woman betrayed will act completely out of character, full of venom, driven by impulse almost to the very point of murder even! And Kate of course is no different….&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A seventeen year relationship is one that by definition must be incredibly strong and difficult to break, and when it does become broken a woman can act impulsively, and dangerously, just as Alan is about to find out.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cost Effective</title><link>/stories/2008/01/02/cost-effective/</link><pubDate>Wed, 02 Jan 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/01/02/cost-effective/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was a warm summer day, and Jessica had decided to go visit her boyfriend Rick for lunch. She knew he was in the construction business and was working over on Lark St. So she walked down to Lark Street and saw a construction site with workers moving all around. Not seeing Rick right away, she decided to go investigate. Unbeknownst to her, Rick was actually installing drywall in an office building down the street.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cost Effective</title><link>/stories/2008/01/02/cost-effective/</link><pubDate>Wed, 02 Jan 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/01/02/cost-effective/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was a warm summer day, and Jessica had decided to go visit her boyfriend Rick for lunch. She knew he was in the construction business and was working over on Lark St. So she walked down to Lark Street and saw a construction site with workers moving all around. Not seeing Rick right away, she decided to go investigate. Unbeknownst to her, Rick was actually installing drywall in an office building down the street.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Buried Alive</title><link>/stories/2007/03/05/buried-alive/</link><pubDate>Mon, 05 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/03/05/buried-alive/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The counter person had thought he had seen all manner of customers while working at the industrial equipment rental store; everything from lawyers types in three piece suits to grubby hicks in bib overalls but this one really took the cake.  The young man in front of him was sweating perfusly, and had a large bloody bandage made from a tee-shirt covering half his head.   He had a his left arm in a homemade sling and was extremely agitated.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Buried Alive</title><link>/stories/2007/03/05/buried-alive/</link><pubDate>Mon, 05 Mar 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/03/05/buried-alive/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The counter person had thought he had seen all manner of customers while working at the industrial equipment rental store; everything from lawyers types in three piece suits to grubby hicks in bib overalls but this one really took the cake.  The young man in front of him was sweating perfusly, and had a large bloody bandage made from a tee-shirt covering half his head.   He had a his left arm in a homemade sling and was extremely agitated.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Angelina</title><link>/stories/2005/11/01/angelina/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Nov 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/11/01/angelina/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This is how it felt to be Angela.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You were the center of his life, the sunshine in his universe. You were
what he lived for. For you, his love and care had no end.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And for you, the feelings were the same. You felt so loyal, so loving
to your spouse, the man you had shared your life with for the past six
years. Your love was an endless spring that would never dry up.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/subterranean-sally/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/subterranean-sally/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I knew my father kept an old coffin at his house having used it regularly for a Halloween stunt when I was a teenager. Myself in a frock and shut inside the old thing as he and some mates wheeled it around the streets. ‘Rising from the dead’ and scaring the crap out of people, all in the name of charity mind and as a family we’d raised a fortune over the years.
Now with my mother gone and me having moved home to look after him it had become a chance to play a bit more. Bob didn’t mind and occasionally he took part. One memorable day he allowed me to wear one of mum’s dresses then locked me inside! I can safely say my heart was pounding!
So when I read a series of stories on Gromet about girls who liked dressing up and being shut in coffins I decided I wanted to do it again. Showing the site to dad…only to find he’d known about it for years! And Mum too…was a serious addict and so he told me a lot of what they’d done. “We played a lot more than I care to admit, but nice to see you’re not too sweet and innocent to understand!”
Talking to Bob one day over breakfast about this he grinned and said he’d made a few adjustments to it recently but would not elaborate, even when I nudged him. “You’ll find out soon enough young lady,” he said. I smiled inside but made sure he couldn’t read my thoughts. With today being my day off…it was gonna be playtime…
Once he’d gone to work I did all the housework and washing which took all morning, prepared the slow-cooker for our dinner tonight and so on. But after my lunch I realised that I couldn’t put it off…I HAD to see what those adjustments were. Hurrying into the basement I locked the door before approaching the coffin. Flipping the lid up I stared…and was amazed.
He’d certainly worked hard as I looked down, seeing the metalwork now installed at three places inside. One set of loops was for the ankles; the second would be for the waist with small wrist loops each side, while the last was obviously a collar to go round my neck. I was impressed, seeing they were padded, the same colour as the satin lining…and I wanted to try them out. A tug proved the loops were all locked and I groaned, as he must have known I’d come down so secured everything to stop me trying.
Turning away I was amazed…and delighted to see a bunch of keys hanging nearby from a hook! Surely these were not for…but a close examination proved that they were! Nervously I placed one in the collar and twisted…
Clunk!
A real solid sound and I shuddered as the collar lifted up, it was 3cm steel and gleamed almost like my eyes were probably doing. Pushing it down then turning that key hearing the clunk again. Soon the others were unlocked and to test myself a bit I leaned in and placed a wrist into the loop by the belt. Flipping the top across it gripped firmly, the leather padding cool but tight on my skin. Another clunk as I locked it and by now my breathing was shallowing!
I couldn’t wait and hurried upstairs to use the loo then get changed into something better than shorts and T-shirt. My wardrobe isn’t that ‘girlie’ as I work in an office where staid trouser-suits are the norm. It stops the truck drivers ogling my legs too, something I’ve hated forever and a day. But today was a ‘me’ day so dress it was, my favourite off-white number, calf length and lovely in silk, capped sleeves and everything. Cost me £200, and I have three of them, one is black but worth every cent, the 3-inch heels that go with them are nice if not comfortable for that long. Quickly I got dressed, being this naughty I was soon wearing stockings too. A slip inside then I zipped myself into the frock. Strapping the shoes on I was soon strutting downstairs and back to the basement.
The door was locked again, keys tossed onto the bench and I headed for the coffin. Carrying my penis gag and a blindfold too to heighten my bondage experience. While Bob of course knew of my bondage fetish I naturally had never let him tie me up, the coffin yes but no more. Donna however had loved it and my parents spent many an hour down here, so now I guess daughters inherit all good traits from their mothers!
Firstly I eased myself into the coffin, making sure the lid was folded right back onto the floor, settling my ass just below the belt and easing both ankles into their loops but not yet locking them as I tidied the folds of my dress. I could already feel wetness amidships and was glad I’d donned a second set of panties. 
Then I lay back and rested my head onto the satin cushion, seeing the thick steel loop sticking up to my right with the belt one visible as well because it’s longer. He’d measured this perfectly as my neck rested in the base of the collar. Slowly I reached down and lowered the belt, having to suck in a bit, as it wouldn’t quite meet the base. So to make sure I got the effect…I needed to lock it!
Getting out for a moment I pondered, whether to finally ask Bob to do it tonight or just have a self-bondage session now…and I could not stand the thought of having to wait another 3 hours for him to return!
Soon I was back inside and this time I locked my ankles into the loops. Sure that they felt tighter once I heard the clicks, guess my overwrought imagination… once I’d tidied my dress I lay back again, then realised the gag and blindfold were outside. Grumbling I reached over the edge and retrieved both, applying the gag and doing my hair once lying flat again. Now was a big moment as I eased the belt shut and locked it. The band was firmly pressing into me and I shuddered then reached for the collar. That too was secured and I was happy, then tried to lock my left wrist into the cuff, but couldn’t reach or see what I was doing. So I undid the loop around my neck and sat up.
Now I wanted to lock everything but of course would not be able to do both wrists…or could I? Spending a few moments blundering about and I sighed. So freed myself and went for another bathroom visit and drink while thinking about what lay beneath my feet.
But I just couldn’t stop and an hour late I was once more settling into the coffin and running through a checklist. 
Ankles locked.
Left wrist locked.
Belt locked.
Gag on.
Blindfold on.
So I reached up and secured the collar then removed the keys and having found the right tape marked one placed it into the lock above where my other wrist would go. Then I shuddered and laid my arm into the loop and by twisting my fingers was able to snap the metal over the top. It rested fine and I imagined the key turning…ohh lovely and I grinned behind the gag as my middle digit felt the edge over to…and TOUCHED the barrel of the key!
I’d forgotten where the key was in relation to the wristcuffs then remembered it was over to the side because the lock fed into the loop. So could it mean? And I paused…then did it. Rubbing my finger along it, pressing as hard as I could, feeling resistance…then it moved…
CLUNK!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally 3</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/subterranean-sally-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/subterranean-sally-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="subterraneansally2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Subterranean Sally&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;One that I thought was going well over the next six months or so. Mary was becoming a frequent visitor to the house. In fact one day I’d arrived back from work expecting them to be home but Bob was alone. Querying this he seemed surprised then admitted she’d gone dress shopping. “Not for THAT type of dress love…,” he said quickly enough but I suspected an announcement might be sooner than later. 
Downstairs too was becoming interesting. Not just Dad and Mary, but Ms Harrison and myself! I’d surrendered my vibrator to her one morning, spending the rest of the next two hours regretting this. “Come on love, just one more for the sisterhood, surely you can take it…” she muttered as I hung there blown away by a series of explosive ones!
While she didn’t understand my coffin and the ideas behind it she didn’t mind if I played in it. The two of them locked me in one afternoon and I lay there listening as he took her circuit training, round the playroom rather than a gym. Over the next what seemed to me like hours he tickled, thrashed, more tickling then finally vibrated her to a climax! Her squealing woke me up from a snooze! 
Once I thought it long enough I quietly knocked on the lid (my wrists were not secured) and Bob released his girl. Me looking at a tired Mary wrapped in blankets and asleep on the bondage bed. We cuddled and I asked if I should free her. Bob cruelly shook his head no then carefully padlocked the cage shut with my assistance. Leaving her cellphone dangling off the bars. Upstairs much later on I received a call from a desperate lady who needed the loo!
They got engaged on Christmas Day, fifteen months after our USA trip. Bob having asked me first if I minded. Of course I didn’t, she loved us both now and I was in tears when he popped the question after a great dinner made by me and she’d said yes. “Least you’ll be able to remember that date,” I laughed and got hugs for that.
The wedding was planned for the summer but I was amazed when in March Bob announced he was selling his company and retiring. He’s only 55 I thought and was a little dismayed at that. “Oh, I thought you’d be happy that I’d be here. As you’ll be leaving too, we’re gonna have more than enough money for years to come, yes?”
I wasn’t however. My role might be small in the company but I’d earned it on merit and was proud of that. While being ‘the boss’ girl had helped there were some who’d thought otherwise but I proved to them that I was capable, now he was taking it away. Didn’t he understand that I wanted to earn my own money, also you easily get bored if playtime is all the time and we had a frosty talk that afternoon and he groaned when I got stroppy. “I’ll help Mary with her work as she wants me and Milly to model the restraints for the calendar, but I’m not leaving, OK?” He sighed and nodded then left me be.
My pigheadedness came back to haunt me. Within two months of him leaving I was forced out, devastated to have been told I was being demoted to secretary rather than the managerial position I occupied. The new owner regarded women in engineering companies as ‘tea-girls and typists’ so if I didn’t comply then tough luck. A long tearful chat with Mary and Bob that night was enough and my notice went in next morning. 
So now unemployed but after moping about getting in Bob’s way I decided to have a weekend in the coffin to do some thinking alone. He seemed quick to comply and helped set things up on the Friday, the drinks and stuff much tastier now I’d worked out how to get it right. Also teaching Mary how it worked. The lid went down and he screwed me closed. I half hoped he’d bury me but instead shifted the casket to one side and they didn’t use the basement at all. A nice quiet weekend followed and I was much happier when freedom came on the Sunday night. 
Mary moved in two months before the big day as she had offers for her place. A fat cheque landed in our accounts even after the eye-watering tax bill and she was quick to see I got a share. Grateful for that we went to for a little dinner to celebrate. Both of us looked great, me in my black dress, Mary in the midnight blue outfit worn the night we’d had in San Francisco. After the meal I bumped into a couple of former work colleagues and decided to allow the others to go home while I stayed out for an hour or so. “You behave yourself, young lady,” he grinned waggling a finger and Mary chuckled.
“Nearly thirty now, I can cope! Besides I’ve had my regulation two drinks, I’m only on the coffee now,” I grinned and waved them off, Margie and Katryn waiting patiently by the door. We went back in, sat down with a steaming jug of best Colombian brew and I caught up on news from ‘the coalface’ Marge saying it was bad there now, both women were thinking of quitting. “You got out just in time Sally love, we’re going to give it another month then I‘m out too. Kat will probably follow,” and I saw her nodding.
A tray of cocktails arrived twenty minutes later and I looked at the others, none of us had ordered and I was puzzled til the bartender said three guys in the corner had sent them across. We turned and saw my nemesis from the company and two of Bob’s engineers, one who’d left shortly before me, Maurice raising his pint glass in salute. “Guess it’s a ‘no-hard-feelings’ round,” I joked and the others grinned. We dithered as they were rather OTT for us, blue green and lastly an orange one with cherries and stuff jutting out on sticks. “Girlie drinks, for girlies I’ll bet they’re probably saying,” Kat joked and we all giggled. 
“Well, a shame to waste them…girlies…” I smiled so picked the green one, Marge went for blue leaving Kat, with orange. “Bottom’s up…” Katryn said then I daintily sipped mine, hoping it’d be some sort of mint flavouring. I rolled it over my tongue… 
“Oh bloody hell…” I wheezed, trying not to cough, “It’s foul, what the heck is it…?” and Marge stared at me having knocked half of hers back. “Water…quickly Sal…” she muttered and thankfully this place has iced jugs of the stuff on a central table. I came back and she grabbed a glass and put that back in one. “I’m gonna complain ‘bout these,” Katryn growled and I was nodding, water being drunk now as I tried to get the taste out of my mouth. 
Margie sat there staring at the remains of her drink and I thought she was shaking. “You alright Ma…?” I began and she shook her head. “No, I feel rubbish…” she muttered and I turned to look at Maurice’s gathering to see what their reaction was, only to see they’d gone! The bartender wiping down the table as he cleared the glasses. We needed help and I went across, not feeling that brilliant myself now as I reached him.
“Excuse me buddy,” I said, tapping his arm. “Those drinks you gave us that these guys bought, I think they’ve been spiked. My mates are in trouble,” and he turned to look in surprise. Seeing me standing there, looking peaky and his face fell as he peered over my shoulder at Marge who was leaning back, eyes closed with Kat coughing too. “OK missy, you go sit down, I’ll call for an ambulance, OK?” I nodded and thanked him, wobbling back to the corner, falling into my seat and I looked back to see him on the phone, waving off a customer who wanted serving. 
He came across with a bucket and towels, just in time as Margie grabbed it and threw up, thankfully straight into it. “Right, done the call love, they’re a bit busy so it’ll be as fast as poss, OK?” 
Well it wasn’t but at least he was serious and I thanked him, asking the guy to shoo off a couple of people watching us. He did so and they left, one saying women shouldn’t be drinking if they couldn’t handle it! I told him in no certain terms to clear off and a few people stared at me. Feeling shameful seeing Kat was crying, Margie slumped against the cushions and she really was shaking now. I was pleased to hear sirens getting closer and soon I was wincing as they were right outside, the lights flashing SO brightly.
Two guys thundered in, hi-viz jackets a welcome sight as their bags dropped onto the sofas and they began working on us, naturally Margie was first while an arriving police officer sat down and tried talking to me about what happened. I wasn’t really in the mood, my mouth was dry despite the water but I gradually told him. Naming the three guys but the copper said he didn’t believe me! “You girls just cannot handle your booze! I’ve seen it too often in this town.” Even the bartender got brushed off when he tried to confirm what I’d said was the truth. Raising his voice and the officer told him to back off. I was getting anxious now, tears not far away because of his attitude. 
“Think you better ring his station, get a real one here, not a guy on a power trip” I said to the barman who did his best not to grin. Only for officer idiot to reach over and jab a finger into my chest telling me to shut up. However it went further forward than he expected and it poked me on the nipple. “You dirty bastard!” I shouted, making more people turn and stare. I also swatted his hand away and he jumped to his feet while I staggered to mine.
“Right, you’re under arrest love…” he snapped, reaching for his cuffs and even the paramedics looked up from their work on Katryn and one protested, “she’s done nothing wrong, leave her be…” But before I could react he’d cuffed my left arm and was twisting it behind me. I squealed and he grinned then grabbed my other arm, slapping it in and securing them tight. Now I really screamed as he pushed me down onto the sofa, my head striking the side and I felt faint now as he stood there warning me not to struggle or else. Getting on his radio to try calling for reinforcements. 
The only help that arrived was for me. Several guys came over having realised what was happening, two of them grabbing the officer and wrestling him to the floor and now it really kicked off. Someone, an older lady even helped me sit down, my head pounding and I felt sick, but with the damn cuffs on could do nothing except cry and she wiped my eyes with a tissue, that bit of kindness probably stopping me freaking out. 
A hulking great guy found the handcuff keys in the struggling policeman’s uniform and freed me, saying he was actually a fellow officer, a Detective Inspector no less but from a different station and he’d sort this out. Showing the ambulanceman his warrant card and Jason, the kindly medic nodded to me. “It’s gen missy and thanks Sir, now lets get you treated love.”
My wrists had marks on from the cuffs and he fed me painkillers or something like that. Making me drink way too much liquid too and I desperately needed the loo. The lady who’d done my face took me there, turned out she was the D.I’s wife and we vanished into the disabled cubicle where I vomited explosively into the bowl. I didn’t realise that was the intention, to flush the drugs out of my system but she waited till my heaving stopped, turning round and I paused… “I’ll wait outside honey,” she chuckled and stepped away, closing the door allowing me privacy.
Emerging after a clean up, with empty bowels I grinned tiredly but was worried about what Bob and Mary would say when they found out. Mrs D.I helped me reaffix my slap then led me back to the bar. Most of the crowd had gone, so had Margie and Kat in the ambulance but I shuddered on seeing more policemen there, convinced they would arrest me again. But my helper’s husband was doing a sterling job, having witnessed the whole thing and soon I watched my second nemesis being cuffed and led away by others. 
I gave a statement then asked about getting a taxi home, only for Bob and Mary to come in moments later and they looked aghast. I burst into tears again, rushing into their arms and hugging both tightly to me. The D.I sat us down and assured me that no further action was being taken against me, but that it was unlikely that they’d be able to prove it was Maurice or his cohorts who’d drugged our drinks. Even the barman was appalled, he’d deposited the tray on their table, only to be called five minutes later and told to bring them to ours. “It HAD to be them, Sir,” he stormed and I nodded in agreement but just wanted to go home and forget about it.
Mary drove us back and I thanked them with hugs before fleeing in tears to my room. Bob later knocked on the door but I refused to open it and he said if I needed him I just had to ask. Right now I wanted to be alone and politely said so, blew a kiss then threw myself into bed.
That event really battered my self-confidence, way more than the demotion. I was convinced everyone had it in for me and panicked when asked to go to the shops. Mary did a magnificent job and after two weeks of ‘house arrest’ she coaxed me into town to pick up the dress I’d be wearing for their wedding. Not quite a bridemaids’ one but an outfit to do me justice. The smile I had on modelling it in the shop proved that maybe I was getting over it now. 
Not so when we got confirmation that the inquiries were being dropped and I began to worry again. Even Bob was starting to get concerned. They were due on honeymoon three days after the wedding, but if I couldn’t get a grip then they might have to cancel it. “Well how else can we get round it?” he sighed in the kitchen. I managed not to throw a strop and said I would consider staying in my coffin for that time til they returned.
Mary was amazed at the idea. “But it’s almost three weeks darling, surely your food and stuff would run out?” she said but I shook my head. “No, I’ve been tweaking the system for a long time, testing it for ages. It’s why I haven’t used it for a month while checking out ideas. I know it’ll be fine, trust me guys.”
They sent me outside to cut the lawn and discussed it and on return an hour later gave their consent. But suggested I Skype Milly first to ask her opinion. Mary knew I talked often with the Californian so that night I called her. Upset to discover Mil couldn’t get a visa to attend the wedding having been invited so commiserations were offered. We talked for ages and I said what I’d proposed. “Well if that’s your way of dealing with it Sal, and your folks okay it then I guess it’s a yes from me too. You’re a wacko love, just let me know when you ‘return’ OK?” I agreed, waved her goodbye and switched off. I went downstairs and looked at them. Mary knew and came across and hugged me. “OK honey, we’ll do it.” Bob nodding and I challenged him to make me safer than ever before. “Yes sweetheart, I’ll try to do that. I promise.”
The wedding was a quiet affair. Just them and me, two of my girlfriends and some of Bob and Mary’s closest acquaintances at the registry office. I managed not to sob as I handed the rings over, feeling nice in my new dress and heels. Once the event was done we had the reception at a local pub and soon they retired to the house, I went to a hotel with my friends to give them space and this time we managed not to get in any trouble!   
Since deciding to ‘go down’ for the time required I’d been asked not to go below stairs. Bob worked tirelessly alone doing heaven knows what. Mary and I went out frequently at his request sometimes all day and I’d love to know what he was up to. But a promise of ‘no peeking’ was to be obeyed or I’d have to stay up.
Now the day dawned and Mary helped me dress. And what an outfit too, not a real bridal gown but a formal silk one all the same. No train or veils but it looked stunning and I cried when she first showed it to me. “I read the stories love, it’s the best I could do…” she said and got buried in hugs. Make-up and hair followed then finest underwear was supplied and she allowed me to fit the tubes alone.
I was trembling as finally I was eased into the frock and it was drawn around me and zipped to my neck, lastly stepping into three-inch heels. Going to my dressing table I grabbed one of Donna’s favourite lockets from my jewellery box and slipped the necklace around. Dropping it inside the dress where it nestled into my cleavage. Mary took many photos then showed me them and I nearly wept again. “Don’t you dare smudge…” she joked, holding hands as I promised her I’d be alright. “I know darling, its going to be painful for us to be apart but I understand.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Consultants 4.18</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-consultants-4.18/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-consultants-4.18/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="consultants417.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Consultants 4.17&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4: Chapter 18&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Gwyneth was in the study seated in front of a professional video player and monitor. From time to time she stopped the tape, shuttling back and forth a few frames to find exactly what she wanted then pressing a key of the computer Charles had set up for her to garb them as a permanent record for later enhancement and study. The tapes she was watching so intently had been obtained by Amber, courtesy of her rapidly widening circle of television contacts, both on and off the set. Together they covered almost every race in which Sarah Turnbull had entered a horse.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>