Escape

They say that opposites attract. That’s certainly true in my marriage. Anna is level headed, organized, a planner. I’m an impulsive dreamer with half my existence in a fantasy world. For all of that, we’ve managed to find our way through many years of marriage. One of our biggest challenges has been my love of bondage. I’ve never really been able to adequately explain to her why I love seeing her tied up. I guess I never will. But she’s been good about humoring me so long as I don’t go over the top with things. ...

Authors note: The images for this story can be found on my deviantart page A Mistake on the Contract This is a story about how my life changed overnight because of a silly mistake. Just because of a stupid number, I was doomed, and nobody has the ability to get me out of my predicament. But let’s back on when all started. My name is Steve, I’m 22 years-old student living in a small city with my mom. Actually, my parents are divorced, and now, my dad lives in a foreign country in Europe. ...

(story continues from Visit to a Neighbour 3) Visit to a Neighbour 4. It was late afternoon on a cloudy Autumn afternoon and a car was travelling westward to a cottage in the western mountains. In it were two people we already know. One was Alice. Early forties, trim figure, firm athletic build with a square, pleasant face and short fair hair. She was long divorced. The other was Henry Carey. A little older than his companion, he was slightly taller, thin and with hair just starting to grey. He was quiet, somewhat shy and, until he had met the woman beside him, had not always been at ease with women. That had now changed. ...

It was another dull day at the All Women’s Penitentiary for Jasmine. Captured in her early 20s for being involved in a huge drug trafficking operation, Jasmine was closing in on 30 now and only just halfway through her sentence. The sheer thought of being in here for another 8 years depressed her. Often Jasmine dreamed of escape, but she could never find a loophole in the tight security. She sat in the outer courtyard wishing another day away. The inmates were allowed outside daily, and on Thursdays the majority of them usually played basketball. However, Jasmine wasn’t keen on basketball and would spend her “outdoor time” away from the courts. ...

Story continues from Tale of Two Brides Allison here, and boy did I have a day today. It’s been a few months since our ill-fated bondage walk in our bridal dresses, and since then, we haven’t done a whole lot, simply because we don’t know what our neighbor is going to do with the sole picture that she took us as we were standing there in our dresses tied and gagged. ...

Story continued from Part 8 Chapter 9: Sacred Places By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden Brian parked his car around the corner from Maeve’s flat. It wasn’t out of sight of the main road, not a good spot, the sort of place that car-thieves liked. If they didn’t take the whole car, they took the wheels, or simply smashed out your windows and urinated onto the seats. Why did people do that? ...

Story continued from Part 2 Chapter 3: Who You Are When I’m Not There By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden Maeve sat by herself in the empty meeting room. The others had cleared out, and her last slide was still illuminating the giant video screen integrated into the wall. It made no sense. How could the firearms guys be so vague about the ero-drug situation? It seemed like the news was full of little else. How could they ignore it? But perhaps there was not so much news, perhaps it was simply a case of search algorithms showing her what she wanted to see. ...

I turned to take a quick look at my reflection in the glass wall of the office I was waiting in. I was a picture of California cool. Dark red lipstick and piercing blue eyes. White flared linen pants and three-inch heels to accentuate my long legs; a matching Chanel silk blouse and a Hermes scarf around my neck. My Prada sunglasses were perched on top of my long red hair as I waited for the office’s occupant to return. ...

Mackenzi gave the steel shell door a shove with her shoulder and it burst open, causing her to nearly fall into the sweltering garage. As if the oppressive heat and humidity outside wasn’t bad enough… She closed the door behind her again, giving it another shove to re-stick it closed. To her right was the back door to the house, and the puff of cool air conditioning sent a shiver across her damp skin as she walked inside. ...

Mackenzi gave the steel shell door a shove with her shoulder and it burst open, causing her to nearly fall into the sweltering garage. As if the oppressive heat and humidity outside wasn’t bad enough… She closed the door behind her again, giving it another shove to re-stick it closed. To her right was the back door to the house, and the puff of cool air conditioning sent a shiver across her damp skin as she walked inside. ...

Evangeline and John locked the door of the studio and hurried into the next room, looking around them. “There’s no telling when they’ll be here — we’ll have to move fast. The only important thing is to get you out of here.” The pretty 20-year-old nodded, fighting back her fear. Her cell leader turned to her and took her by the shoulders. “There’s only one way. Do you trust me?” ...

story continued from part four Part 5: Threesome without Tyra After a few more days, I was finally let out of the security wing and returned to the general patient area, and slowly was accepted by the women there. What had happened to me, or supposedly happened - my being reassigned as a permanent patient - actually met with sympathy and understanding for the most part. But it generally wasn’t discussed and it was pointless me going through the real story of my incarceration over and over again. No one believed me now, no one. My goose was well cooked. ...

(story continues from Captured) Part Two Chapter 3 For a minute Andrea thought Black was going to strip her before she was bound but the Goon was in such a hurry to “Fix” the Detective that he didn’t do so. This was the first mistake the gang had made all day. She was surprised that Mrs White had not specified he did so as well. A bit of tardiness creeping into their work, or over confidence maybe. Either way Andrea didn’t care as the Goon went to town with the ropes. ...

Holly sighed flicking threw all her social media apps. Babysitting wasn’t the most engaging job but it was paying the bills. She should be researching her community college but she just didn’t have the motivation. Her mind was set on the man of the house. She’d been watching the Rosencratz family for a year now and recently the Mr had turn his attentions to her. His relationship with his wife was open… and so he began a more social relationship with Holly. But tonight, he was at a business function but he left her a surprise. Her phone rang. “Hello good sir,” she said coquettishly “I’ve finished the chore list… vacuumed, the laundry, oh and I did finish the waxing on the landing it’s gonna be wet for a little bit so be careful when you come home. You are coming home right?” ...

(story continues from Girl Time 2: Demonstration) Girl Time 3: Decisions Carol awoke to a room beginning to brighten with the light of morning. For a moment, she glanced around the room, her eyes eventually coming to rest on the bed. Her friends lay as she’d last seen them. Sandy, her body still stretched by the ropes that bound her limbs to the bed’s corner posts, snored softly. Beside her, wrists and ankles cuffed, the chains intertwined in a way that held her heels close to her ass, Myra lay face down, her face snuggled into the shorter woman’s shoulder. Both, obviously, were still sound asleep. ...

They had been very careful. Maria and Toni had selected just one girl a month. One girl from the hundred or so who showed up at their modeling studio every month. One girl who had no one to come looking for them. One girl who no one would miss. Today they had bundled up girl number twenty-four. At fifty thousand Dollars per girl they had done quite well for themselves to the tune of $1.2 million. Katrina was naked. She had a leather bondage hood over her head with the blindfold and gag firmly in place. She wore leather cuffs also locked tight to her wrists and ankles. The cuffs were locked together with a ten inch chain securing her wrists to her ankles holding her in a hogtie despite the girls frantic attempts to slip free. ...

(story continues from The Chaperone’s Apprentice 3) Part 4 Cecilia was on the train, Premier Business Class, pretending to be Xara for the benefit of any paparazzi that might have been looking – it was important that everyone should think that she had, indeed, checked out of the hȏtel that morning. Looking out of the carriage window she thought how dull the scenery of that part of northern France was; so unlike further south. For a time the train ran alongside the A1 motorway; its driver seemingly taking a perverse pleasure in going at least twice as fast as the cars on the road and rapidly disappearing into the distance. Soon they were in the tunnel under the English Channel then out into the Kent countryside for the final run up to London. ...

It was her fate to be recycled. She only understood that, being part of the estate of her deceased mistress, it had been decided to have her sold off for reconditioning. She didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she did realize that after thirteen years of activation, and a nearly unwavering routine of service, everything was going to change. The Recycler’s name was Humbolt, who arrived at the house with his assistant Percival. Both were dressed in black suits, matching their blank painted service vehicle. This wasn’t typical of the profession, but an odd caprice of Humbolt, who liked to refer to these trips as ‘bringing out the dead’. Percival didn’t think much of the joke, but knew the value of an apprenticeship in this sort of tech industry, and so he quietly played along. The house was to be sold as well, and with so much of the furniture already moved out, the interior felt very dark and empty. It struck Percival as a rather sad and lonely image then when they found her. Seated on a plain wooden chair in the middle of the bare living room, her head was bowed, a single black power cord running from some part of her back to an outlet in the wall. “You see this,” Humbolt said gruffly, holding out the crumpled yellow work-order sheet in front of her. “Yes,” she replied, raising her head. She was dressed in the manner of an old English maid, with a long black dress and white apron. She had the fair complexion of a European, but had been given long slick black hair that appeared very Asian. “You’ve been given over for reconditioning,” Humbolt informed her, “You will come along with us.” Percival came around behind her, unhooking the power cord from it’s socket at the base of her neck. Moving aside some of her thick hair, he read off the stamped serial number. “Hmm, a 213,” he remarked. “I was expecting something more ancient from what we’d been told.” “Yes, well, still hardly state of the art,” Humbolt shrugged, studying her. “At least it’ll be an easier job though. I quite like the face.” “She is pretty,” Percival agreed, helping the machine to her feet. At first glance, she did seem very human. But, in accordance with the Artificial Persons Act, did possess one distinctly non-human feature. Circular metal panels, lined with a single groove in the middle, were mounted on either side of her head, just above and behind the ears. “My name is Lynn,” she introduced herself to them both, her voice inflected with a slight English accent, though her overall pattern of speech was characteristically deliberate. “Only for now it is,” Humbolt told her. “Come on, follow us into the van.” ...

It was her fate to be recycled. She only understood that, being part of the estate of her deceased mistress, it had been decided to have her sold off for reconditioning. She didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she did realize that after thirteen years of activation, and a nearly unwavering routine of service, everything was going to change. The Recycler’s name was Humbolt, who arrived at the house with his assistant Percival. Both were dressed in black suits, matching their blank painted service vehicle. This wasn’t typical of the profession, but an odd caprice of Humbolt, who liked to refer to these trips as ‘bringing out the dead’. Percival didn’t think much of the joke, but knew the value of an apprenticeship in this sort of tech industry, and so he quietly played along. The house was to be sold as well, and with so much of the furniture already moved out, the interior felt very dark and empty. It struck Percival as a rather sad and lonely image then when they found her. Seated on a plain wooden chair in the middle of the bare living room, her head was bowed, a single black power cord running from some part of her back to an outlet in the wall. “You see this,” Humbolt said gruffly, holding out the crumpled yellow work-order sheet in front of her. “Yes,” she replied, raising her head. She was dressed in the manner of an old English maid, with a long black dress and white apron. She had the fair complexion of a European, but had been given long slick black hair that appeared very Asian. “You’ve been given over for reconditioning,” Humbolt informed her, “You will come along with us.” Percival came around behind her, unhooking the power cord from it’s socket at the base of her neck. Moving aside some of her thick hair, he read off the stamped serial number. “Hmm, a 213,” he remarked. “I was expecting something more ancient from what we’d been told.” “Yes, well, still hardly state of the art,” Humbolt shrugged, studying her. “At least it’ll be an easier job though. I quite like the face.” “She is pretty,” Percival agreed, helping the machine to her feet. At first glance, she did seem very human. But, in accordance with the Artificial Persons Act, did possess one distinctly non-human feature. Circular metal panels, lined with a single groove in the middle, were mounted on either side of her head, just above and behind the ears. “My name is Lynn,” she introduced herself to them both, her voice inflected with a slight English accent, though her overall pattern of speech was characteristically deliberate. “Only for now it is,” Humbolt told her. “Come on, follow us into the van.” ...

(story continues from Kira 2) Part Three “My Queen?” For a moment, the woman standing in the center of the room seemed not to hear. Then, slowly, she turned, hands fumbling at a buckle for the armor she wore. “What is it?” “My Queen, you have a visitor.” The woman scowled. “Do I look like I have time for a visitor? Whoever it is, get rid of them.” “Yes, my Queen. I will tell Her Majesty you are not accepting visitors today.” ...

It was a warm summers day in the middle of July as the sun lifted it’s self above the lay of the land and into the deep blue sky. It was a lovely morning as the streets and roads around Cowley Road in the historical city of Oxford. People walked around with newspapers and coffee in hand as they headed to work. Just a normal day on a normal street. Just as the clock hit 9:24am a door blew open and a chained rubber bondage slave struggled out. She was wearing an odd head helmet and other bondage equipment. The rubber was making a loud squeaking sound as she walked away from the door. She was being spotted by more and more people as she moved away from the door she had just come from. ...

Caution: If scenes where the character dies upsets you - then don’t read chapter 5. Chapter 1:“The Beginning” My head began to swim as she said the words, “You will never leave my grasp again”. I didn’t know what she meant, I only knew she was mad. My wife of five years had just found out that I had been seeing my old girlfriend, the one I had been dating prior to meeting and marrying her. And even though my meetings had been innocent, catching up on old times, talking about people we used to know, my wife didn’t like it. When I arrived home from work that day, she confronted me at the door with her proof, a picture of the two of us having lunch at a restaurant near my office. ...

Authors note: This was inspired by a vid I came across recently called ‘Quicksand Bondage’ on MyVideo.de - http://www.myvideo.de/watch/10856811/Quicksand_bondage Emma had very little recollection of her actual abduction, although the events leading up to her capture were etched indelibly in her mind. On the day in question, she had been attending her regular Tuesday evening yoga class at the local gym. Just after the class had finished & she was preparing to get changed & leave for home, however, her mobile phone had rung & she’d stepped out of the changing rooms & into the corridor to take the call. It had been an old friend calling & for several minutes the two women had chatted & caught up on all the latest news. ...

Authors note: This was inspired by a vid I came across recently called ‘Quicksand Bondage’ on MyVideo.de - http://www.myvideo.de/watch/10856811/Quicksand_bondage Emma had very little recollection of her actual abduction, although the events leading up to her capture were etched indelibly in her mind. On the day in question, she had been attending her regular Tuesday evening yoga class at the local gym. Just after the class had finished & she was preparing to get changed & leave for home, however, her mobile phone had rung & she’d stepped out of the changing rooms & into the corridor to take the call. It had been an old friend calling & for several minutes the two women had chatted & caught up on all the latest news. ...

Victor walked along the dark Parisian street. As a budding (but successful) artist, he had come to Paris with the romantic idea that he would draw girls as they stripped in the clubs. He thought that although he was sure that cameras would be unacceptable, no-one would object to some discreet sketching with pencil and paper. He had found an address of a less ‘touristy’ strip club but it was eluding him. In front of him, an old woman stood in a doorway. He paused. “Strip club?” he enquired. “Troisièmeàdroite.” she growled without looking at him. He went on without thanking her. ...

Here is a little something I did a little while back in 2012. I also posted it on my Blog if anyone’s interested in a little more bondage kink. I had a chesty cough for the last 4 weeks that has only just gone away, and to top it off, it seems ages I have been feeling bloated and depressed as a result of what seems like a never ending period. It’s about time, but I guess I am back to my old self a bit now. But that’s enough about the vanilla me. After a quick shower this morning I was sitting on the corner of the bed towel drying my hair while Peter was watching the breakfast news. I had been a bit down last week as a result of what he insensitively calls the “Blob”. ...

Continues from chapter 13 Chapter 14 Next day Leslie sent Gwyneth out after lunch. Ostensibly by way of a penance or punishment for some unspecified misdemeanour, but actually for fun, to ride Zoltan in the forest dressed as a latter-day Lady Godiva, that is to say naked except for her long hair, Gwyneth’s naturally waist level mane being augmented for this purpose to near knee-length by a wig. They had been assured it was entirely private and devoid of Peeping Toms. Even so Gwyneth was not sure she much liked the idea of being out there on her own like that, though if she had complained she was sure Leslie would have retorted to the effect, “What’s like got to do with it.” ...

Meredith squeezed her slender body through the gap in the fence, reached back for her bag of ropes, then looked up at the deserted factory. She grinned. Moving quickly across the weedy lot, she found the window that had been inadequately locked. Boosting herself up, she climbed inside. The space was dim and echoing – just the sort of place where a young woman would be held, tied and gagged. ...

He looked at his watch. No one was coming. No one would ever come. It was only a matter of time, he thought, until word spread. He had loved magic since he was eight years old. Eight when the magic show took place in his home village, nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas. he forgot the details of his early life, a whole lifetime and countless miles away from his life now, but he’d never forget the day the magician arrived. No, that wasn’t true. He’d never forgot his assistant. ...

(story continues from Her Contract Entails 3) Part Four Henry chanced a look into his mirror, supposedly checking out the flow of traffic, but in reality flagellating himself with another stolen glance at the occupants of the back seat. Aubrey Lister sat back on the leather like a king reclining on his throne, his face a picture of self-assured crapulence as he draped one arm over the shoulder of his favourite pet, the other lost beneath the fabric of her tight denim skirt. ...

continued from part one Part 2: The Holy Grail She did not usually tend the plants in her green house in nothing but her favourite 5 inch heels, but today she was doing just that. She also never usually tended her plants naked but hey it was a warm sunny day and it was her green house so that was what she was doing. However the oddest thing she never usually did, was to tend the tall, slim, shiny, smooth plant which dominated the centre of the greenhouse… ...

When I got back to the van, the Enigma was busy; there were a pair of legs, from about the knees down, hanging out of his mouth. I stopped to watch for a minute. Nice legs, too; in good shape, tan, covered with dark hair. I look around for some clues, and find a t-shirt, some sandals, and a pair of shorts that don’t belong to either of us. Dig out and open the wallet. John Marcinkus; nope, no one I know. Not bad looking, if you can trust a driver’s license photo, kind of swarthy and Italian looking. ...

Nicole Cox glanced around nervously as she walked down the hallway. What she was about to do - what she’d already begun to do - was technically illegal, but for the best of causes. Seeing nobody paying attention to her, she relaxed and approached the room. With a nod to the officer posted outside the door, she entered. Almost before the door closed, Nicole found herself wrapped in supple arms. Soft lips pressed against her own, and she surrendered to the deep kiss that followed. When the kiss finally ended, she stepped back reluctantly, her knees trembling. ...

The trouble with thinking of bondage is it makes you want to try it, And when I think of all the ways I have been bound over the years, I think there must be one new way I have not tried yet. I think for it to be totally successful it has to be with a well trusted friend or partner, its not some thing I would ever try with a total stranger, as the dangers are staring you in the face if it goes wrong, as it must have for some unfortunate submissive out there. ...

Her name is Sally. She is that kind of Woman, where you only can say “Yabbadabbado”. And the best thing about her she loved to be bound. Oops, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Mike. I’m good friend of Sally and I was the man, who saved her from being sold to a foreign country. Sally gave me a call on Monday afternoon that she wants to try something the she read on the Internet. It was called Selfbondage Patrol. ...

Sci-Fi, Machine, Mind Control, Fantasy, Electro-pain, Final Chapter = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = PLATO is forced to reveal his power in this final chapter. PLATO is the most powerful computer ever… grown, but he has been able to hide that power from everyone except Marcella and Richard. In this final chapter, he is forced to reveal the full extent of his power. ...

Rebecca sat, leaning against the cold, concrete wall, naked, an iron ring on her wrist, scabby, red rivulets of blood running down her breast. Daniel’s coming! She couldn’t tell is he was hungry or not. Having a ready meal, he was seldom hungry. But she could usually tell if he was. Same way she could tell when he was around. She wasn’t a vampire, had no craving for blood. But since he’d fed on her all these days? weeks?, she’d developed a sense of these things. Perhaps it was backwash. A little bit of him in her. ...

(story continues from Embedded) Part Two Under the circumstances, Lisa thought that her cries for assistance came out quite well; louder, in fact, than she’d previously thought possible. Unfortunately, the only person within earshot was Tom and within thirty seconds of her attempts to attract attention commencing, the bedroom light was on and he was there at the side of the bed, glaring in at her. “Stop that bloody noise, will you? Or would you rather have me make you shut up?” ...

(story continues from New Lessons of Love 4: Day Two - The Individual Sessions) Part 5: Hot Night in the Woods After the beach barbecue we returned to our cabin and Miss Justine went to the table and started setting up the chess board. She looked over her shoulder and gave me this mischievous smile that melted my soul. “Winner gets oral stimulation from the loser and is in control tonight.” ...

(story continues from Night of the Living Dolls Chapter 3: Making sense of a Plastic Nightmare) Author’s note: This story is based loosely on the classic horror film Night of the Living Dead with an ASFR spin to it now. There are themes of sexuality, profanity and nudity throughout this tale so if this bothers you at all, please move onto another story or site.Otherwise, enjoy ! Chapter 4: Escaping an Artificial Nightmare ...

(story continues from Night of the Living Dolls Chapter 4: Escaping an Artificial Nightmare) Author’s note: This story is based loosely on the classic horror film Night of the Living Dead with an ASFR spin to it now. There are themes of sexuality, profanity and nudity throughout this tale so if this bothers you at all, please move onto another story or site.Otherwise, enjoy ! Chapter 5: No Parking in the Inflated Zone ...

(story continues from Night of the Living Dolls Chapter 5: No Parking in the Inflated Zone) Author’s note: This story is based loosely on the classic horror film Night of the Living Dead with an ASFR spin to it now. There are themes of sexuality, profanity and nudity throughout this tale so if this bothers you at all, please move onto another story or site.Otherwise, enjoy ! Chapter 6: A Shrinking Circle ...

(story continues from Night of the Living Dolls Chapter 6: A Shrinking Circle) Author’s note: This story is based loosely on the classic horror film Night of the Living Dead with an ASFR spin to it now. There are themes of sexuality, profanity and nudity throughout this tale so if this bothers you at all, please move onto another story or site.Otherwise, enjoy ! Chapter 7: What Place is a Safe Place ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 11: Strung Up, Bogged Down and Hung Out to Dry) Chapter 12: The Training Room Cathy shut her eyes, curled up into as tight a ball as she could manage, took one last deep breath and prepared herself for the searing pain which she knew couldn’t be more than a microsecond or two away. And sure enough, she felt something strike her left arm and resigned herself to the fact that the spandex cat-suit, which offered next to no protection, was about to be ripped into by either Fang’s dagger-like teeth or his equally effective claws. She could hear and smell the dog’s breath only inches from her head. But something didn’t seem quite right here. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 20: The Training Room - Revisited) Chapter 21: Saskia’s Unexpected Discovery With great difficulty, Saskia propelled herself, caterpillar fashion, across the floor of her padded prison. Reaching a corner of the room, she rolled over awkwardly and pulled herself up into a sitting position, with the soft, yielding wall at her back. The effort needed to achieve this posture had made her breathless, and the rag filling her mouth, plus the tape that held it in place, made taking in air a task that could only be accomplished through her nostrils. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 22: Dolores’ Little Secret) Chapter 23: Saskia’s Plans Take Shape Saskia walked out into the hallway directly outside Dolores’ apartments, her mind reeling from the discovery she’d just made and – more importantly – what she’d just done. For several seconds, as she made her way towards the nearest staircase, the sound of muffled screams and stifled banging assaulted her ears. But as she put more distance between herself and the hellish rumpus that the Mistress of Shackleton Grange was stirring up, the less pronounced the sound became, until, once on the landing of the next floor down, it faded away, to leave the old house in a state of ghostly silence. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 3) Chapter 4: The Crypt When she came to, Cathy found herself lying in the recovery position on the grass. For a second or two she forgot where she was and tried to sit up. But immediately she discovered that her arms were still encased in the unforgiving leather sleeve, although, on the plus side, she was no longer lashed to the trotting cart, and the bit had been loosened to allow it to slip from her mouth. The harness was still fastened tightly around her torso however, and the bridle straps continued to bite deeply into her face and neck. As the comprehension of where she was finally returned and her eyes were once more able to focus, she realised that there was a general hubbub of noise somewhere away to her right. Turning her head, she noticed most of the stable girls, plus Dolores and her three right- hand- women, all milling around a trotting cart that seemed to have overturned at a distance of around fifty yards from where she lay. It was obvious straightaway that one of the participants in the time trial had crashed, spilling her rider in the process. This was evidenced by the fact that the main group were now clustered around one of the woman, who was gingerly getting to her feet; her hair dishevelled and her skin-tight suit covered in dust and dirt. The ponies, all still harnessed to their carts, stood around gazing on helplessly. ...

Mira looked out over the stage once again. The audience had been quite awed by the earlier acts. Now it was her turn to perform. The tall slim blond had worked hard to perfect her act, for she was a magician. An escape artist in fact. Her assistant Dawn, a slinky brunette in a skimpy outfit and fish net stockings was prepping the trick. The crowd applauded as Dawn demonstrated the equipment. Wearing a red sporty bikini Mira stepped out on stage. The five and a half foot tall blond walked out under the bright lights, the tiles of the stage were warm on her bare feet. She posed before the audience with her hands over her head. Then she slowly turned, showing the assembled crowd that her outfit concealed nothing. ...

(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 8: Revelation) Chapter 9: Escape I hauled my head up off the floor and the world swam about me. I gave my head a shake and fought down a wave of nausea. Every limb ached and my brain felt like it was trying to escape through my ears. I forced my eyes open and the bright sunlight was almost painful. I lifted myself from where I lay on the floor and looked about. I could see the Evil Queen lying prone on the mattress that made up the centrepiece of her evil machine of sexual torment. ...