MFFF

story continues from part six Chapter 7: Product Testing Gavin sat at his desk in his office just outside the server room at SMS Creations. He was tracking down an intermittent problem by tediously scanning pages and pages of log files. “There has to be a better way.” He pushed his chair back and propped his feet up, trying to think of something. “Ah ha, this should do it.” He immediately positioned himself back over the keyboard and managed to type a few characters before the phone rang. “Crap! Stupid phone.” He picked up the receiver. “Hello.” ...

continued from part 5 Part Six Chapter 11: The Russian Doll Walking down the old, wooden stairs quietly enough not to wake up Alex was difficult, even though she kept close to the wall and put her weight on the handrail. Even the floorboards outside the room where she thought she could hear Theresa snoring, sounded like they were designed to creak as much as possible. The grandfather clock down the hall struck eight, and she hurried past it towards the kitchen. It was empty, but there was a wonderful smell her belly immediately interpreted as Festive Breakfast. A door was gently shut, and two large flowerpots entered the room closely followed by their carrier. ...

continued from part 10 Chapter 11: The Russian Doll Walking down the old, wooden stairs quietly enough not to wake up Alex was difficult, even though she kept close to the wall and put her weight on the handrail. Even the floorboards outside the room where she thought she could hear Theresa snoring, sounded like they were designed to creak as much as possible. The grandfather clock down the hall struck eight, and she hurried past it towards the kitchen. It was empty, but there was a wonderful smell her belly immediately interpreted as Festive Breakfast. A door was gently shut, and two large flowerpots entered the room closely followed by their carrier. ...

continued from part 11 Chapter 12: Strings Dad? She forced her eyes open, and although there wasn’t enough light in the room too be able to see clearly, she tried to reassure herself that this wasn’t just another bad dream by staring blindly into the dark to see if there was something real to comfort her. There was no point in moving until she was sure. A faint snoring noise and a familiar warmth on her left side, and a sweet, mature and unmistakably female fragrance with a slight hint of juniper in the air allayed her fears despite the darkness of the early hour. She had never felt that scent in her dreams. They were strangely odourless, nearly all of them. Not all of them. Not this one. ...

Part Seven I drifted in and out of sleep and didn’t remember much of the night. As the sun rose and came through the single high window I started to gain my senses and looked to my side where I saw Sarah. She was still encased in the glass cube but her headgear had changed overnight. She still had the tight black and red rubber helmet but strapped around her nose and mouth she had an aviator’s mask, the hose of which led to an inhalation canister attached to the side of her glass box. I didn’t know what was in it, but I surmised it would be pungent rubber. Her cheeks were also puffed out and she was plainly well gagged underneath. The front of her mask was now covered in dried juices and I could only imagine how she had spent the night. She seemed to be asleep or at least dozing and I chose not to wake her. ...