Reveal

Non-Consent, Reluctant, BDSM, Oral, Anal, Detective, Toys, = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = W is called upon to help catch the Master of the Kollar This is a sequel to “The Redhead in the Killer Kollar”. It stands on its own, but makes a lot more sense if you have read that first. I don’t normally write sequels, but several public and private messages indicated that many of you thought I left too many threads hanging in The Redhead. So, I decided to wrap a lot of them up in this story. ...

My life partner, Angie, pointed it out to me; I would have missed it, because it was in part of the paper I do not read. “What do you reckon to this?” she said as she handed the paper to me and tapped the page in the area she thought might be of interest. “You are always saying you a looking for a challenge.” I focused on the page I had been handed and quickly found the item Angie was bringing to my attention. The small ad read, ‘John Franklin challenges any aspiring escapologists to escape from the ‘Death Cage’ in under five minutes. Successful challengers will receive £1000.’ And a contact phone number. Naturally, I was intrigued, so I rang the number and left a message. That evening I received an email in response, which was odd as I had only left my name, phone number and the fact that I was interested in the ‘Death Cage’ challenge. I opened the attached documentation and discovered the nature of the challenge and the safety procedures that were being put in place. The final paragraph seemed a bit odd. It simply stated, ‘If you succeed you get £1000; if you fail you get to experience magic and what your companion has experienced throughout the challenge.’ I showed the pdf to Angie to ask what she reckoned. Her assessment was, “Handcuffs behind your back, 20 seconds, no 30 seconds, because you’ll need to release both hands; neck shackle, another twenty seconds; two sets of leg shackles, 40 seconds and the cage’s padlock another thirty seconds. I make that 2 minutes. Add that on again for being underwater makes 4 minutes; so five minutes sounds do-able. Admittedly, you can only hold your breath for 3 minutes, but they’ll be providing an air-hose, so that shouldn’t be a big deal. I reckon, if you can handle the pressure of doing this for a live audience and this John Franklin character, you should go for it.” Between us we agreed that it was worth taking this challenge to the next stage, which was emailing for further details and contracts. The next evening these details arrived, but I had spent most of the day in the tank in the summer house in the garden practicing getting out of handcuffs behind my back underwater. I had even improvised an arrangement so that it would be more like the planned arrangement for the ‘Death Cage’ The details confirmed the details of the escape and the safety arrangements and the contractual obligations on both me and the John Franklin’s people. Their obligations seemed to be to provide all the equipment required at the appointed time and place, to have all the safety arrangements in place and to provide the payment if I succeed or get me out if I fail. My obligations seemed to be to turn up at the appointed place and time (at their expense), try my best to succeed at the challenge and to bring a companion with me to see fair play. There were two things that gave me slight concern; the first was they said they would be offering more challenge on the day, for more reward; and the second was they insisted I name my companion and that they sign the contract with me. The contract made clear that the extra part to the challenge was entirely optional, I guessed this would allow them to add some element of drama into the stunt; not only would I succeed or not, but would I be up for the extra challenge? I assumed the bit about naming my companion was so that they could prepare the extra paperwork, but it turned out to be more than that. After careful consideration, we signed contracts and began negotiations about times and places. We even researched who John Franklin was; it turned out that he was a small-time magician who had landed himself a series of six half hour programs and hoped to use these as stepping stones in his magical career, but he was not being entirely selfish, because he was allocating a small amount of time on each show to a specialist performer to show their stuff. I was soon booked as the specialist performer, with Angie as my companion, for his first recording, which by this stage was six weeks away. Those six weeks were a blur; when I was not working my day job or sleeping, I was in the tank practicing with the specified hand-cuffs and padlocks. The practice was paying off, I had the handcuffs, neck-shackle and leg restraints off in under three and a half minutes and the padlock to the lid of the cage should be no trouble. The day of the challenge dawned and we travelled to the studios where the stunt was going to be recorded and got there mid-morning; the show was going to be recorded live that evening. The remainder of the morning was spent being introduced to the crew that would be supervising my escape and checking over the equipment. Then John Franklin took us out to lunch. Once the meal was ordered, he asked, “How do you envision this escape of yours going?” Naturally, I had expected some question along those lines, so I had an answer. “I’ve practiced so that I can do it in under four minutes, but as I can see the clock from inside the tank, I’ll add to the drama, by taking my time I can be out a few seconds before the five minutes is up.” “I thought you’d say something like that, which is why we added the extra challenge option to the contract. What we want is a genuine ‘Will they make it?’ situation, rather than a ‘Can they time it right?’ one.” “I, sort of, expected that was the reasoning, but if I don’t like the extra challenge aspect, I know I don’t have to accept.” “Exactly,” he confirmed. “The paperwork says that with extra challenge comes extra reward; so make your offer and we’ll consider it.” I deliberately included Angie, because she has a better idea of what I can and cannot do, especially on top of all I was already prepared for, and also because I know she worries and it makes her feel better to have her say. “Firstly, let me say you don’t have to make a decision immediately,” he began. “We’ll show you the extra equipment this afternoon and you announce what you decide at show time.” “That’s fair.” It would have been an instant ‘No!’ if I did not get to check the equipment or I was being pressed for an instant decision. “The extra challenge comes in three parts; part one is a lid on the tank, part two is your lovely companion, Angie,” he smiled at her, “shackled to the lid on the tank and part three would be withdrawal of the air hose partway through. Part one would gain you an extra thirty seconds of performance time. Part two would gain you an extra minute, because you’d need to release Angie before you could get out. And for item three we would have to work out when to remove the hose, but on the plus side, we would supply oxygen enriched air to compensate for you not being able to hyperventilate beforehand.” “So, those are the extra challenges. And the rewards?” “Well, if you accept any part of the extras we’ll pay you your original £1000 and £1000 per part you accept, plus another grand if you accept all three and we’ll double it if you succeed. So you could make as much as 10000.” “Ok, so the rewards are not insubstantial.” At this point, his mobile phone went off. He looked apologetic, but still checked it. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. A friend has arrived, late as usual, and I’ve got to teach her how to act when I pass the buzzsaw through her middle.” He rose from the table and we began to rise to follow him. “No, don’t worry, you don’t need to come; I’ll make sure your meal is paid for, while I get something to take away and I’ll get someone to send a taxi to get you back to the studio. Enjoy your meal and I’m sure you have lots to discuss.” Then he caught my eye and he said, “And remember if you fail, you’ll experience magic and what your lovely companion has experienced throughout the escape.” Immediately and without a backward glance he rushed to do what he had to do and was lost from sight. I was slightly stunned, by his last remark; I certainly was not planning on failing, possibly not succeeding in time, but not failing; and reminding one of the possibility is not what one professional does to another professional. The food arrived and we ate, but it did not get the attention it probably deserved, because we were talking about the extra challenges. To my surprise, Angie seemed in favour of the lid on the tank, because the extra time it would take was less than the extra time it gave. She even seemed to be neutral about the removal of the air hose, but most resistant to being attached to the lid of the tank, which I put down to her innate shyness, rather than any concern that I might not be able to release her in order to release myself. The entire result of our talk was we would have to inspect the extra stuff before we could make a decision. At the end of the meal we left and found a taxi waiting, which got us back to the studio about the same time the crew got back from their canteen lunch. They showed us the lid for the tank, which hinged and would be held down by three padlocks, with holes in so that the padlocks could be reached. Then they showed us how the air hose withdrawal would work; there was a remote release mechanism between the actual hose and the mouthpiece which with the addition of the pumped air would produce a dramatic flurry of extra bubbles when it broke free. And finally they showed us the bars mounted on the ends of the tank that Angie could be shackled to; she would be attached to the ends of the bars away from the access holes in the tank lid, but cuffs can easily be slid along bars allowing access through the access hole for the side padlocks (hence Houdini’s remark that sometimes the challenge is keeping the restraints on until the escape starts). When we had the privacy we agreed that the lid would be a great addition and the air hose thing would be OK, as it added drama, as long as they did not do it more than two minutes before the end. Angie was most resistant to being an extra obstacle in my release; eventually she admitted she worried when I was involved in an escape and she coped by not watching and having faith in my abilities, but this would force her to confront the process of me escaping, which she knew I delayed from suspense purposes. It took me a while, but I convinced her that being more involved was the worth the extra four thousand it would gain us; I even promised her a weekend away together with part of the extra money. Once we had decided, I went to find John Franklin to relay our decision to take on the entire extra challenge. I found him talking to a very shaken-looking woman about his age (mid-twenties), who judging by her mascara had been crying a lot. I was about to convey what we had decided, when he said, “Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know until the show, but let Ben know so he can make sure the gear is ready, then get to costume and make up so that you and Angie look the part.” It took me about ten minutes to find Ben, the floor manager, and let him know what equipment would be needed. He also gave me directions on how to get to the costume department. I went back to our dressing room and we went to costume. Costume for me was simple; a swim suit in an intense blue with a couple of black lines and a fluffy white bathrobe. Costuming Angie was not anywhere near as simple; they wanted a sexy damsel-in-distress look, but Angie’s natural modesty complicated this, along with the requirement that wrists and ankles should be free of clothes so that it was clear that she was restrained and not to get in the way of my efforts to release her. In the end, she was outfitted with a white calf-length dress with a deep neckline, short sleeves and a slit up to mid-thigh, under this was a tight body-suit, which did wonders for her waist and cleavage and finally a pair of white strappy mid-height heels. She was accessorised with a necklace of what looked like pearls and matching earrings. Then it was on to make-up, where the bare minimum was done with me; foundation, eyeliner and a whole can of hair-lacquer to hold my short hair in place. Angie got the works; her fingernails and toenails were painted, fake tan was applied to all visible areas of skin, her face was made-up to match the sexy damsel-in-distress image they seemed to have in mind for Angie, much emphasis on eyes and lips and then they added more curl to her already curly hair, primarily to make sure it did not end up with it in the way. As we were leaving for a light canteen snack before the show, the head make-up lady, told Angie not to cry, because her the eye make-up would instantly turn her into a panda. The period before the show was uneventful, although I did notice some admiring glances for Angie, which I did not mention, in case it would make her reconsider her part in the stunt. At the appointed time, we were called to the wings and watched John Franklin perform the buzzsaw illusion. The woman I had seen earlier was lain on the travelling table, on top of a piece of wood that had just been sawn to show the reality of the buzzsaw, and the table travelled under the saw with the blade splitting the wood under her and appearing to pass through her bared midriff. She seemed a lot less upset than earlier, but she still eyed the rotating blade with a nervousness, which I wondered whether showed how good an actor she was or embodied a genuine uncertainty as to the outcome of having it appear to pass through her. Naturally she survived her ordeal, but seemed awed by what had happened and relieved it was over. Now it was our turn. John Franklin introduced us as people he had known for a while (which was true if five minutes in a restaurant counted). We went on and he explained the basic concept of the escape. “We suggested some additions to this escape, did you decide to go with then?” he asked. Noting that he was being vague, I paused, to give the editors a chance to ramp up the tension, before being vague right back. “Yes, we decided that we’d go with all of them, but Angie isn’t particularly happy about her part.” “Quite understandable; being an obstacle in your partner’s escape would make anyone nervous,” he commented. Then we got down to the business at hand, while John Franklin provided commentary to cover what would be, to the observer, the dull part of the procedure. First I knelt on the grid that was the base of the cage and clamps were placed over my calves and ankles held in place with padlocks, then I bent down and a collar was put round my neck and padlocked to a short chain attached to the floor of the cage. The sides of the cage were folded up and pinned in place and the top of the cage slotted into place, hinged down and the padlock put in place. The final part of me being locked into the death cage was me putting my wrists near the lid and Ben closing the handcuffs round my wrists with the chain between over the central bar of the cage’s lid, thus holding my wrists up from my back and straining my shoulders a bit. In this cramped and uncomfortable position, I was fed the air hose while two bars were attached to the cage. Four large men took an end of a bar each and lifted the entire assembly and a young lady took charge of my air supply. As soon as I was over the tank I gave a thumbs up to indicate I was ok and ready to proceed. Carefully the men lowered me into the water, while the young lady stage hand clipped the hose into position on the hinge side of the tank. The water was icy cold, which was good, because the body’s natural reaction is to restrict blood supply to the peripheral parts of the body and so preserving more oxygen for fuelling the core bodily functions, effective lowering your metabolism; the downside being that your hands go numb before too long, which is not ideal if you require them to be dexterous and sensitive. As the air began to pump with the sweet tang of added oxygen I looked up to check I could still see the clock; I could, so I made another thumbs up gesture to show I was happy to continue. The final stages of the preparations I did not see, because my view was confined to looking through the cage and the clear Plexiglas walls of the tank at the studio floor and the legs of the crew doing their jobs. First came the rush of additional cold as they poured two buckets of additional water into the tank to convince the audience I was truly submerged, this was accompanied by some muted thuds as the other two crewmen fitted and closed the tank’s lid, then the air-hose lady attached the padlocks to hold it down. More water-muffled knocks and bangs followed telling me that Angie was being shackled to the bars on top of the tank. I spent this time to remember my planned sequence of escape and generally calm my nerves, by breathing deeply to increase the oxygen in my system. A tap on the end of the tank told me that all was ready and as I wanted to get on with it I made the agreed double thumbs up to show I was ready. I glimpsed Ben’s face and then his hand holding out three fingers; the countdown had begun and I was already moving my lockpicking tool from where I had it palmed to the tips of my fingers. One of Ben’s fingers folded away, then another and finally the entire hand was taken out of my sight; the escape had begun. To aid my concentration I closed my eyes and took a moment to concentrate on the planned sequence of the escape, then I began the dramatic thrashing about; given my constrained position it was not much, but is served to cover the fact I was using the pick to release the handcuffs. Ten seconds can seem like an eternity, but it took me that long to find the key hole in my cuff, partly because Ben had put the cuffs on my wrists so that the hole I was looking for was on the wrong side. A quick check confirmed it would be easier to transfer the pick and release the other wrist first so that’s what I did. With one cuff released, I opened my eyes to check the time on the clock, while I transferred the pick back to the now uncuffed hand; forty-three seconds; where has all that time gone, I am usually out of the first cuff in about twenty five seconds. I put it down to the minor problem with the orientation of the cuff and possibly nerves, and took another deep breathe from the air hose. I closed my eyes again and tackled the other cuff. With the picking hand free it is not to long before the second hand is free. Another time check, One minute nineteen seconds; I think I must have missed something, but I still had a little over five minutes for eight padlocks and four more sets of cuffs, but now I could work with both hands and the strain between my shoulder blades had eased. I moved to start on the neck shackle, but noticed a camera through the glass of the tank and paused to give a smile, which I hoped said, ‘I am doing ok, but not as ok as I had hoped,’ and a brief thumbs up, before continuing to release myself from the bottom of the cage. I grabbed the padlock holding the neck shackle to the chain in my left hand and fitted the pick into the keyhole. A few jiggles and it was open but I bumped my elbow on the side of the tank and accidentally snapped it back shut. Rats! A little more circumspectly, I released the neck padlock again. The original plan had been to remove the collar once it was released, despite this seeming to be unnecessary, but it would fill time to make the escape seem more life and death at the end without me floating about doing nothing. I decided with the two mistakes that had already been made that it would be a waste of time, so I just skooched back a bit to get easier access to the last four padlocks holding me to the cage. While I reached for the first of these I looked at the time again. Two minutes and thirteen seconds! I knew I had lost a bit of time but that seemed a lot. Was I missing something? Was there too much added oxygen? I’d heard that an excess of added oxygen can impair your faculties, like being drunk, but surely they would not do that. ‘Concentrate!’ I told myself. I went to work on the padlocks holding my legs to floor of the cage. I soon had both my calves free and the shackles open so I could sit back even further to make it easier to reach the ankle shackles. I decided on another time check in the hope that I could calm myself a bit by seeing that I had made back some of the time I had lost. As I looked up the clock ticked over to three minutes; good, but not great, I had not lost any further time, but not gained any either. As I leaned back and worked on my ankle restraints, I closed my eyes once more. Another bump of an elbow on the side of the cage reminded me that I should be more careful to avoid needing to pick these locks twice. The first padlock fell away, so onto the second, but where was it? A feel about told me that in my thrashing about it had changed position and was jammed under my buttock. I changed position and repositioned the lock so that I could pick it. Once I had it in my grasp it fell away with a few deft movements of the pick I still had in my hand. ‘Stay calm!’ only four locks on the lids and the cuffs restraining Angie to go. Another look at the time, which I was rapidly feeling was becoming the enemy. Three minutes fifty-two seconds! ‘Surely it can’t have taken that long.’ I felt the edge of panic, so I paused to just breathe the enriched air which I knew I would be losing in another minute. I turned on my side and felt the hinge of the neck shackle catch on one of the bars of the cage; maybe not removing it had been a bad idea after all. I looked towards the audience, feeling certain that they could see me; I could not see them, or even the cameras, because it seemed my movements had splashed water through the holes in the lid and water was running down the outside of the tank. I looked up and saw that the skirt of Angie’s dress was soaked and the added weight had pulled on the rest it opening up the slit to show more leg than she would be comfortable with. ‘I bet she looks good,’ I thought. ‘Don’t get distracted!’ I admonished myself, ‘Focus!’ My hand found the padlock securing the cage shut and it was soon open and removed to join the other five padlocks on the tank floor. Another change of position and I could reach through the access hole in the lid of the tank between Angie’s ankles. Reaching through, I snagged the lock and positioned it so I could quickly have it undone once I had changed hands. As I changed hands the neck shackle once again bumped against the cage’s bars, causing a small loss of precious momentum. Nonetheless, I reached through and the lock fell open at my touch and I unhooked it and tossed it away. I took another look at the timer to find out how soon I was going to lose my air supply; I did not want to be surprised by the sudden flurry of bubbles when the air hose broke away at the agreed time of five minutes and three seconds. The clock showed four minutes and fifty-five. While I reached for the second lid padlock I counted in my head to be ready; I had reached six when I felt the change in the texture of the water and shortly after a light thump on my back as the air-hose snaked its way out of the tank. I spat out the now useless mouth piece and grimaced for the camera I knew would be watching for a reaction. I had hoped to already be releasing Angie at this point. The second padlock was soon thrown away and I was reaching for the third; the one between Angie’s restrained wrists. This was positioned and unlocked in a matter of another ten seconds. Time was getting tight. I had just over a minute to release four cuffs and get out of the tank. I considered changing the plan again; the fine print said I had to release Angie’s wrists before her ankles, so she could not get off the tank lid and open it for me before she was properly released. I was thinking about unlocking her ankles first and taking whatever penalty was due, but Angie already had slid one wrist to where I could get to it. I decided that rather than cause Angie more concern by changing the plan, I would have to proceed as planned. Angie was shaking with nerves which made the fiddly job of releasing the first cuff a little trickier, but it was soon done and another wrist presented. While I was liberating Angie’s other wrist, I saw something happening out of the corner of my eye. Between us and the cameras John Franklin and Ben were holding up a deep red cloth. Even before I had finished the cuff I was working on I had a last glimpse of the timer; it showed six minute and two seconds. Then as the cuff opened, the cloth settled over the tank; I was now in darkness. I mentally cursed John Franklin and crew for cheating as I turned inside the cage to release Angie’s ankles which I knew she would have in position for me, despite the added distraction. I reached through and instantly found the cuff on her left ankle. I began to hear, muffled by the water the beeps that indicated the last ten seconds. Then I dropped my pick; the coldness of the water had taken its toll at last. As I heard the electronic beeps countdown the final seconds of the challenge, I was groping for the dropped picking-tool. I was resigned to failing the challenge, but there would be very little to do to rescue me, just finish releasing Angie’s legs and open the lids. I would have acquitted myself well and if it had not been for several avoidable mistakes I could well have succeeded. The final beep seemed so much louder than the previous nine. I realised my head had gone swimmy for a moment. Things were different from what they were a moment ago; I was out of the water, but still under the cloth. Instinct told me that I was now on the lid of the tank and that I should get off. I rolled off onto the floor in the direction of the audience; there was a hush that seemed to ask, ‘What is going to happen now?’ I struggled from the folds of the cloth to see what was going on. And was greeted with a small cheer, which suddenly stopped as they noticed something that I had not yet. I turned and looked at the tank, expecting to see both lids open, but they were both shut. How had I got out without opening the lids? Then I noticed the lids were once again padlocked. Then the key thing I had missed hit me; inside the cage in the tank full of water was Angie, shackled exactly as I had been. “Get her out of there!” I yelled, but the crew were already rushing toward the tank, with keys and lifting bars in hand. I felt the urge to rush forward and help, but realised that I would only be in the way; I felt so helpless. Angie was desperately trying to move to release herself, but all these constrained movements contrived to do was cause her hair and skirt to float about her. As the padlocks holding the lid of the tank were released, I was hoping Angie had not breathed in any water when she unexpectedly found herself underwater. I hoped she was not drowning while I watched totally impotent to help her in any way. Much to my relief, the lid slammed open and the four men who had lowered me into that tank of cold water, began to attach the bars to the lid of the cage. At this point I suddenly wished that the lid was locked, because if it was loose the whole cage would jam in the tank and delay the time when my Angie would be able to breathe again. I took half a step toward the tank, thinking I would check, but then John Franklin took hold of me and said, “There’s nothing you can do, rely on them to do their jobs and don’t interfere.” It took a huge effort of will to take that totally correct advice. When the men had hoisted the cage from the tank, I took what I realised was the first breathe since my yell, my head seemed to have a dull ache. As the cage touched the floor, John Franklin let go of my arm and I rushed to see that Angie was alright. She was breathing heavily with her hair plastered to her face and the skirt clinging to her legs. It took the crew nearly a minute to release Angie and she stumbled into my arms; during this time I took a little time to bless the foresight of the costume department for making Angie wear the body suit under the dress or she would have been rather more exposed than she thought. The air hose lady came up with two white fluffy dressing gowns and we were bustled off stage. Once in our dressing room, I had time to consider what had occurred. While I felt my failure to escape in the allotted time was my fault, Angie ending up lock and shackled in the cage underwater was entirely down to John Franklin and his team and all the worse for not let us know it was a possible scenario. I was becoming angry, but could not think what to do about it. Eventually, getting dry and changing into our own clothes became the priority. Finally I asked Angie, “What happened?” “I don’t quite know. I saw you drop the pick in the dim light under the cloth they flung over us as the beeping from the timer started, I was about to reach forward and put it in your hand, when just before the final beep, I took a very deep breath and was suddenly in the water with my neck and shins shackled to the base of the cage. I’ve never been so frightened. At least I had the presence of mind to hold my breath until they rescued me; I never realised it was so hard.” “Me?” I said, “I’ve never felt so helpless; wanting to help you, but being totally unable to, in fact if I had got any closer I would probably have delayed them getting you out, which feels doubly helpless.” “That’s kind of how I feel, every time you are doing any remotely dangerous escape. You know, trying to help would probably worse than standing back and hoping.” “I guess that’s what Franklin meant when he said something about me feeling what you feel while I escape. And if you believe in magic that swimmy feeling in my head when it happen must have been it. I guess we were kind of warned, but very obliquely. He’d better have a good explanation or I’ll not be answerable for my actions. Make that a very, verrrry good explanation.” We sat and wondered if we could get a cup of tea, while the adrenalin subsided. About ten minutes later. John Franklin knock on the door and entered. Before he could open his mouth, I said, “This had better be good, because we are not happy and if we don’t leave happy, we’ll be suing you for breach of contract for as much as we can get.” His smile faltered for maybe half a second, while considered what line would best keep him and his reputation from being dragging through the mud. “What a performance! You certainly earned your ten grand.” For a moment, I wondered what he was talking about, so I asked aggressively. “You were marvellous,” he said. “I auditioned some professionals, but they had nothing on you. They were too smooth to make the illusion look credible. But you with the couple of fumbles made it look truly death-defying and you were incredibly fast; if we hadn’t tweaked the timer to run fifty percent faster, you’d have been out long before the time limit and the magic couldn’t have happened.” For a moment part of my brain did the maths. I had got to the point I had got to in a few seconds over four minutes even with all the extra obstacles and recovering the pick and undoing the last of Angie’s shackles would not have taken the whole of the final minute of the original challenge. I was mentally patting myself on the back, when another part of my mind reminded me that my failure to finish in the allotted time was not my beef with Mr Franklin, but the fact he had tried to drown Angie. “Now I understand why you say I earned the money, but what about what happened next? Angie was completely unprepared for her dunking, possibly near drowning.” I looked at Angie for confirmation and support; she looked sheepish instead. “I wasn’t totally unprepared, but I had been warned I would end up in the water.” “When?” I challenged. “When I rang my cousin John to congratulate him on getting his TV deal. I wished him well and expressed some disappointment that I was failing to let you know how stressful your ‘hobby’ was for me. He suggested that he could help, if I was prepared to seem in danger and arrange that you get involved. He called the illusion ‘The Drowning Pool’; it took me some time to find it, ‘coz there’s a band called the same thing that gets the top hits when I searched on YouTube, but once I understood the concept it seemed like the only way to make you see how bad it makes me feel to be helpless while you escape.” “You’re right!” I admitted, “I’ve been selfish in not considering how you feel when I do my thing. I’ll give it up, if you ask me to.” “Before today I’d have said, ‘Yes, please give up escapology.’ But having been in the spotlight and properly the centre of attention, rather than just someone who came along with you. I have some idea of the buzz you get from it. I want to join you in escaping; you can train me. I’ll probably never be as good as you, but together we could be better than anyone.” John interjected, “You are the best amateur I have ever seen.” “Do you really mean that?” I asked looking at Angie, she nodded. “You know I love you?” She nodded again; she seemed almost at the point of tears. “Angie, will you marry me?” She closed the two paces between us, said, “Of course, I will, Brenda!” and we hugged until we were out of breath.

The sun was shining and the park seemed fairly crowded. In the area near the bandstand, Terry, in his usual attire of black T-shirt, jeans and trainers and followed by a cameraman, stood and watched groups of people wander by. He is holding a small black backpack. Terry, trailed by the cameraman, approaches a group consisting of three couples in their early twenties. “Good afternoon,” he greets the group, “My name is Terry; I’m a magician. We are filming some location magic stunts for a TV magic show. Would you like to take part?” ...

It was going to be the longest mile of Sally’s life yet she’d wanted to do it this way to prove devotion to her lover. A walk along a deserted beach dressed in a flowing white nightdress… …while restrained at the wrists in broad daylight! “You’ve gotta be joking!” she’d exclaimed when Judith Curran, her partner had told the girl about it earlier in the ferry queue. They’d had a marvellous time up in Orkney. Nobody seemed to care a jot at seeing two lovely girls holding hands. Possibly assuming they were sisters despite the fact Jude was six years older than Sally Marlow. Neither cared a jot what people might say and certainly they’d not been troubled while touring around. At least nobody knew about the box of bondage restraints that was sitting in the boot of Judith’s motorhome as she bounced it off the ferry at Loth, the southern most point on the island of Sanday. Both girls surprised at how many people were here as the boat was full up. A question to a ‘hunk’ in a tearoom at the Social Center and nearby school provided the answer. It was the Island’s Fair today so the Mayor was undergoing the Ice Bucket Challenge, and nearly everybody had turned up to witness this and attend the biggest event in the social calender. Also as it was a former popular singer who’d retired here then a few people wanted his autograph too. “There’s probably nobody left beyond Skeelbay ladies,” he said when Sally asked him was this all the population. The girls smiled at each other, nodded then bought another couple of food items to take north. Returning to the van, this time Sally was to be driving as she grabbed the keys off her buddy. “Guess I can trust you on roads this quiet!” Judith chuckled as they left the port behind them. It took ten minutes before they saw another car, this also heading for Loth and by the time Sally passed Northskaill the vehicle count was down to zero except a tractor. The place was indeed deserted and arriving at Whitemill Bay, an hour from the port she sighed with pleasure as the engine was switched off and the diesel rattle faded. A check of the map and they found another carpark at the far end. “That’ll be quieter even than this one. More sheltered too so I’ll go there” Sally said firing the wagon up again. A few bumpy minutes along the clifftop track they arrived back at sea level and now she knew it’d be safe here. Only the call of a few gulls broke the silence, a faint swish as waves broke across the deserted golden sand. But Sally knew this was only postponing her walk. “Right missy… time to get changed, girlie,” Judith said with a glint in her eyes and Sally Marlow grinned and nodded. Standing by the side of the van she still looked round before undressing! Her tanned skin glowing in the afternoon sunshine, blonde hair doing the same as she finished up and finally stood naked, hands almost shyly covering her midriff and breasts. Judith opened the case containing the frock then carefully handed the underwear over then the diaphanous gown last. The fact she’d made Sally change outside was just another cruel thing that would need to be avenged! Laughing at how quickly Sally got into it as the garments were whipped away in turn! Barely two minutes later she watched those burnished cheeks blushing with relief that nobody except Judith had seen her naked. The older girl reached behind Sally’s back and slooowly drew up the zip then secured it into the slot. “Thanks,” Sal murmured as they came for a kiss, Judith’s fingers stroking hips through the flimsy material. Under the sun you could clearly see her lacy bra and briefs but at least it ‘felt’ covered as she buttoned up the sleeve cuffs by her wrists. “You do look stunning wearing that honey,” Judith said and Sal blushed. This was her special dress, normally worn for their anniversary nights or birthdays, the first time it’d been used in a bondage scenario and she hoped it wouldn’t get damaged. Judith had bought it for her and given it to the lass on the celebration of their first year as a couple. “Box… now,” Judith ordered and Sally shuddered as she fetched the key from her handbag, surrendering it with another sigh as the container was positioned where it could be unpacked. Tomorrow this would be reversed when Miss Curran would take her turn in bondage again. The lock was undone and opened, the glint of steel shining as both girls looked down into it. Judith Curran smiled at her friend… and having remembered being forced yesterday to run naked round the moonlit Ring of Brodger this was payback time… “One of everything today…” she said and Sally’s heart froze as she knew this was in the rules. Whatever the ‘dom’ handed over, was to be worn, so this afternoon it appeared that she was to be bound… By a collar. By a belt. Her wrists cuffed together. Her ankles cuffed together and attached by a chain to the belt. Gagged. Veiled. ‘Well at least I’m gonna be barefoot, cannot walk in heels on sand,’ Sally thought as Judith lifted the belt out. Both girls had the same waist size and used their bondage equipement as slimming devices. If the belt seemed tight it was time to hit the gym harder! A quiet groan as Judith applied it, the click of the lock audible to both girls and they were smiling as the leg cuffs were undone. Sally felt those slid round her ankles, a finger stroking her leg as it traced northwards… but she was still smiling as they were secured. Jude putting the thin chain on the loop at the rear. Next it was the cuffs and she asked Sally did she want her bound arms free or these also connected to the belt by a snaplock. Sally grinned and nodded that yes she’d like them attached, but careful not to use one of her ten-word allowance while wearing restraints. Another of the conditions each had agreed since starting their relationship three years ago. Judith did her bidding, applied the collar and got the tiara and veils ready to adorn her head, as the penis gag would be the final piece of the bondage. Soon Sally stood trembling as Jude worked to weave the tiara into her long blonde locks. Leaving the veils up at the moment so she could apply the gag. Stepping back at the end she fetched the device from the box and returned to her bound lover. “OK sweetheart? Time to speak…if you want to.” Sally Marlow had thought and counted her words and got it right. Knowing that Judith would be impressed at her with this one. As she’d normally been a bit shy doing outdoor bondage it’d taken a while for her to get used to it. But today, with nobody except Miss Curran within miles… it’d be OK, wouldn’t it? “Judith, would you relock my wrists behind my back… please,” she said slowly. Counting each one and smiling at her partners’ surprised expression as she digested it. She too had silently totted up the number and knew Sally would not be able to say stop now. “Wow Sal. I am impressed love,” she said at last. Their fingers entwining as they had a long smooch. Breaking off Judith took the keys off Sally’s collar and unlocked her wrists again. This time an embrace followed, hands rubbing the others’ butts and the older girl could feel her lover shaking, possibly with nerves, or maybe excitement perhaps as those captivating eyes looked at her. “OK, as you wish, wrists behind you, now please,” Judith ordered and Sally froze, then slowly placed them at the small of her back. Jumping as the first was enclosed by steel, then repeated for the second and now she really was trembling. The keys were hung by a snaplock on Sal’s collar, another tease for the captive, as it’d mean she’d have to be careful. Snaplocks were designed to be safe but naturally with freedom… and one set of keys then no chances could be taken. But still she was determined to go through with this so obeyed the order to open up. Judith sliding the gag inside then buckling the straps around her head. Lastly the two veils were lowered and the outer one pinned into place both front and behind. This was enough that Sal could not turn her head or she’d rip the pins out. The inner silky layer was to flutter in the breeze against her nose to torment her. But a slightly surprised Sally saw how little vision she had. No wonder brides get escorted up the aisle! She thought as Judith closed the lid of the box. She grabbed the binoculars and checked the beach was still empty then returned. “Right sweetheart, there is no time limit and the tide is still going out. All you have to do is walk, from here to the other carpark where we were earlier, OK? I’ll be there waiting for you. I promise.” With that she led Sally onto the sand, patted her ass, pointed in the right direction then walked away leaving her lover bound and gagged… and loving the feeling of helplessness. This growing as Judith soon drove off and the gulls returned to squawking at each other rather than the van engine. Sal stood there sighing then turned to her left and began. Pacing slowly across the golden sand, her dress flicking round both legs, the clink of chain hiding the rustle of silk while the keyring jingled from the collar and Sally was smiling nervously. Already planning tomorrow’s session where Judith would be tied up naked somewhere and exposed to the elements! However Sally was still scared of being seen like this, surely there was… No. It was impossible she thought and wondered whether to bottle out. But she couldn’t lose face so a frustrated groan and carried on walking. The sand lovely and warm on her bare feet with no crabs or rocks to injure her toes. No bloody shelter either and before long Sally Marlow was heading for the cliff edge where the sand stopped. This meant if she saw someone coming the other way, it might be possible to find a cave and take cover. Trouble being it also meant Sally had to walk a lot further too. Whitemill Bay was on a curve and by hugging the cliffs rather than cutting directly across open sand it easily doubled the distance and surely Judith knew that… then realised of course she had, so that made it worse then! ‘I’m gonna make you squeal’ she muttered behind the gag… The distance seemed more than a mile and Sally mentally ’ticked off’ the craggy outcrops as she passed each in turn. No sign of the carpark yet, the sunshine now straight into her face making the veils almost opaque now and bloody hard to see through! Daydreaming she paced onwards, a real large rockfall to her right and nervously Sally headed away from the cliff and got round it then headed back into shel… and she stopped dead. There was a TENT in there barely fifty feet away! A single bloody tent and a horrified Sally saw a shadowy figure standing nearby. Though it appeared from his stance he was looking up the cliff face rather than out to sea. She dithered and was stepping backwards when she trod on a half-buried seashell… and the stumble made her fall over. She squealed in pain and despite the gag he must have heard. Sally nearly burst into tears as he came and stood over her prone body. Of course her bindings prevented any chance of running away and she lay there waiting… “What the hell…” he said trying to discerne what lay at his feet. A pretty girl all chained up… and crying now as the emotion got too much for her. He paused then lifted the struggling lass to her feet and stared into her face as she wept. Discovering to his amazement that she had something stuffed into her mouth as well! Now Wally Slimmon might be one of Scotlands leading geologists but he did have a normal if rather monastic lifestyle these days. Too much fieldwork and weeks away had led to divorce but at 46 he still cut a rakish figure. So now… no, but of course he was fascinated at what had stumbled into his camp. Sally stayed still as this guy stared at her, then flinched as his hands reached for the pins on her veil. “It’s alright missy, I’m not going to harm you. Just curious as to what you are doing here like this,” he said. A rich but oh so musical timbre in his voice and Sal was impressed. Miss Marlow worked in a theatre so was used to people with resonance in their speech and this man was the same. He freed her from the veils, lifting them carefully over to the back then reached for the gag, tapping the keys at the same time as he realised what they were for. “Oh, I see you’re one of that sort,” and now Wally was smiling as the girl blushed. “I’ve read a bit about… ladies who do self-bondage, never thought I’d see an example in real life and certainly never out here.” The gag slid out and Sally coughed and spluttered her thanks, asking for a drink if he had any spare. Wally surprised she wasn’t begging to be freed. She drank half the glass and said that was fine. “Guess I’d better explain then,” she grinned and sat down on a stool having been invited to rest her feet. The lass not minding as his hands had helped her down, both just brushing her breasts and it was his turn to glow as he apologised. “Yeah right,” she chuckled, “but you’re not the first either,” and then Sally told all. That she was in a happy lesbian relationship with Judith, though both girls were allowed ’to have some of the other’ as long as they confessed to the partner. Admitting that on at least one occasion they’d had the guy at the same time! “Really, I bet he thought all his luck had come at once!” Wally grinned and now Sally was comfortable enough to laugh as well. Pleased that he hadn’t come out with a ‘such a waste’ comment like so many others when telling someone that they ‘batted for the other side. The guy still amazed she was happy to be cuffed like this. Saying that Judith was the one who’d put her into this and that she would be waiting to free her once the walk was done. “She’ll be wondering where I am. But could you do me a favour… I’m busting for the loo…” Sally said jangling her wrists and looking pleadingly at him. Wally laughed and took the keys off her collar and went behind, unlocking Sally’s wrists and the girl groaned as she flexed both shoulders. Taking the keys back then reaching down and removing the leg restraints with the belt last. “Thanks, now where do I… go,” she asked, the guy saying that partway down the rockface was a portaloo that his team had dropped off for him two days ago. He was to be here a fortnight and “Hardly got time to walk a mile down to your car-park each time.” Such a blessing and it was a smiling Sally Marlow who returned minutes later saying what a relief and that she should have gone before starting the walk. Seeing Wally giving her the once over and she couldn’t help an extra sway, allowing her dress to ebb and flow. They had a chat about his work and though the finds here in the fall were disappointing so far he was determined to check what he could. “I get paid for working like this, you two have to spend money to come here… playing bondage games, yes?” Wally grinned, saying she was wearing a nice outfit, despite the current usage. “Yeah, does feel good,” she replied, running both hands over her hips again to tease him. The guy grinning at her starting to blush when he said, “Shame I cannot check for myself eh?” Sally did smile a little more warmly now as she relaxed, then amazed herself by saying he could! She was that thankful for him not attacking her when she’d been restrained that maybe she owed him. He paused as she stood there, the girl nodding then slowly reached for her as Sally walked forward. Those hands gently touching her waist then sliding round onto her butt and tenderly rubbing all over. She closed her eyes and puckered up to hopef… and almost swooned as their lips met. “It’s been a long while since I did anything like that,” he murmured while taking a breather moments later. She nodded and said the same. “Judith’s lovely and I couldn’t be without her, but there’s something a guy has… and I know she wouldn’t mind…” she began, then paused… “Be gentle with me… but I need… all of you… now,” she whispered. Sally’s heart was pounding as he removed her headdress then lowered the zip on her. The girl stepping elegantly out of it then coming closer to allow him to finish undressing her. The lacy bra freeing two lovely breasts then his hands went below and soon a naked girl was being led to his tent. “Sand gets everywhere and a blanket’ll be a damn sight more comfortable.” He stripped off and… wow… was all she could think of. It was a special as she’d hoped as Wally took her that afternoon. Though out of practice he made her feel special and the squeals proved it. “Not too loud or you’ll bring more rocks down,” he chuckled as she gasped and groaned away. A shriek of laughter at that and he commented that maybe she should have worn her gag. Sally grinned and once they’d finished with a sensual shared shower under the waterfall streaming from the cliff asked what the time was. Slightly concerned that she’d been here an hour! “Judith will squeal even louder,” Sally joked as she tossed over the towel used to dry her hair. Working the tiara and veils back onto her head then doing her underwear before applying the dress. Like a true gent he zipped her up, then turned Sally round for another rub and kiss. “Time to chain up I guess,” she said and did the belt and leg cuffs herself leaving the guy to do her wrists. “Feels OK?” he asked once they were secured and she blushed and nodded yes then allowed him to gag her. Once she was safely restrained he kissed her, then pinned the veils into the right place before telling Sally something… She stared at him for ages then nodded, turning away and shuffling off, being stopped and sent the right way as she’d started to head for the wrong carpark! Judith Curran was concerned as surely Sally should be in sight by now? A bright sunny afternoon and a white-clad lass… you can see miles here but the horizon was clear as she leaned over the railing to look down to the left… and finally smiled. “You little chicken…” she exclaimed, seeing her lover shuffling alongside the cliff face, dodging out of sight now and again and Jude realised what she was doing. Keeping close to cover and only exposing herself as briefly as possible. Least it explained why she’d been so long as the girl drew closer. Judith looked around and was pleased the carpark was still deserted, even the gulls had cleared off now. With Sally probably within earshot she called out, seeing her jump at first, pause then start to hurry… well with only a few inches of chain it was a fast shuffle and soon the girls were together. Jude hugging her tight and saying well done. She’d tease her later about not going straight across. A last check and she led the tired lass up to the carpark and safely into the motorhome. Sally was exhausted at her endevours and pleased to be inside. Judith unpinning the veils then reaching for… “Sal dear… where are your keys honey…?” she said at last, shocked that somehow the snaplock had failed. Then having seen Sally wasn’t concerned… the faintest of grins there… “OK Missy, what are you up to? How the… oh, better get the gag out and you’ll need a bloody good explanation young lady!” So Sally, refreshed after a drink told her lover that halfway back, she’d met a hunky geologist who waylaid her, let the lass use his toilet then given her one! Now he was waiting for the so-called friend who’d done this, to come and rescue her keys in person! Only problem being was that Judith was to walk there NAKED and bound! It was her turn to squeal “You’ve gotta be joking!” But the grin on Sally’s face meant that she wasn’t. “Yes, he’s promised that if you go tonight, as it’ll be dark in three hours anyway, then he’ll return them to you. Plus he’ll make sure you get back here safely. And Jude, he IS a bit dishy too…” Sally laughed, seeing Judith’s expression of… lust perhaps starting to emerge? ...

Chapter 1 - Joe’s Truck “Axel’s Auto,” Joe Axel said into the shop phone. “Hey Joe, it’s Kristal.” “Hey Sis. Are you in town?” “No. Which is why I’m calling.” “What’s the problem?” Joe asked. When Kristal called, there was usually a problem. He frowned as Kristal launched into a complicated explanation of the events that had left her friend Amanda stranded in Nashville, her luggage destroyed, and unable to obtain a rental car. ...

Silent Street is one of the ancient thoroughfares in the town of Ipswich in Suffolk, England. No one knows for certain how the name came about, but one theory is that, during an outbreak of plague in 1665, the death toll amongst the residents of this street was particularly high, and thereafter the area fell ‘silent’. The story below, however, gives a more modern twist as to why the name might be apt! ...

BDSM,Techno-Nerd Mystery, Reluctant, Non-Consensual, Slave, Electro-Pain, Electro-Sex, Megavibrator, D/s, = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A very interesting, naked messenger shows up on W’s doorstep. In order to save the life of a naked messenger, W is forced to hold a demonstration party for his new Orgasmatron Ultra. This is a BDSM techo-nerd adventure/mystery. There is a non-consensual Master-Slave relationship, and consensual participation in the demonstration of the Orgasmatron Ultra which does what its name implies, takes women to orgasm multiple times. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * ...

Inanimate TF - Also, just as a disclaimer, all characters in this story are 18+. Brian is a junior in college (22) and the girls are all high school grads (18). story continued from part one Part Two When Hailey came into his room late Sunday night, Brian was expecting her to ask for advice or maybe if he wanted to do something with her since neither of them had classes starting for another week. He wasn’t expecting her to to just climb onto his bed and curl up next to him. “What’s up sis?” he asked, letting her press into his side. Her bright blue eyes caught his own and she smiled. “You know I’m headed up to move my stuff into my dorm up at college right?” Actually no, he had forgotten that her first year of college started next week. He thought she went back the same time as he did. She seemed to realize this and poked him in the side, giggling. “Yeah, Wendy is coming to pick me up in the morning. We are going to be roommates so we decided to just ride up together.” “Yeah I knew that part Hailey, but that doesn’t explain why you came up here though.” “Well I won’t be back before you head off to school, so I figured we could watch some movies together now? I’m already packed up so I don’t need to do anything else other than shower in the morning and get dressed.” Nodding, Brian scooted closer to the headboard, pulling her with him so they could both get a more comfortable position for viewing the screen. “Sure sis, you can even pick what we watch.” The girl on the bed squealed and grabbed the remote from his hand. “Oh you are SO going to regret saying that. Love Actually is on Netflix right?” And so the siblings settled in for their last day of summer spent together, watching romantic comedies until they both fell asleep in a strange position of tangled limbs and blankets. And as it typically went, Brian was the first of the pair to awaken when the sunlight began streaming through his curtains. Yawning, he noticed the pressure on his body and smiled, he knew Hailey had always been a cuddler when she was younger and that fact still hadn’t changed. Her legs were intertwined with his own and she had claimed his left arm as her pillow. She was latched onto his arm like a lifeline and he could feel a small amount of drool dampening the sleeve of his shirt that her head was resting upon. He tried to free his arm, but it was wedged against her body too tightly for him to do anything about it without waking Hailey up. Sighing, he tried to do so. “Hailey… psst… Hails… time to wake up sis.” His soft whispers did nothing more than make the girl bury her face deeper into his shoulder and mumble a few words that came out as nothing more than vibrations against his skin. He chuckled and lightly shook her shoulder. “C’mon sis. Wendy will be here in like two hours and then it’s off to college for you.” Hailey mumbled something else into his shoulder before looking up at him with bleary, sleepy eyes. “What was that? Couldn’t hear you through my shoulder.” “Don’ wanna leave…” “You know that isn’t true. College is fun! I go back in like three weeks and can’t wait.” “You don’ got nnythin’ fer three weeks?” Her slurred question made him laugh. “I mean outside of packing and maybe some outings with friends not really. Why?” He could feel her lips curl upward against his sleeve. “I wan’ you ta come with me…” He looked down into her eyes. “Sis you know I can’t go with you to college. Wendy’s car is just big enough for both of you and your bags, plus I would be staying at a hotel off campus either way. You need to get involved with stuff on campus, not drag me around as a crutch.” She seemed to contemplate this for a moment before humming and looking back at him. “Wha’ if you wer’ there but not?” she mumbled again. “That doesn’t make sense sis, but anyways time to get up. I’m sure Wendy will be enough of a social jump start without you needing big bro there with you.” He could see the clear uncertainty in her eyes as he attempted to get up, but that soon turned to a gleaming idea being formed. The protest forming on the tip of his tongue never got the chance to reach her ears as a pink glow encompassed the entire bed and Brian felt his entire body tingle with an odd warmth he had never felt before. His entire being felt like it was being lifted into the air and compressed before being crammed into a soft and malleable container. Once the compression stopped the warmth remained throughout his body. He tried to speak, but as with most times she transformed him in the past, no movement or noise came from whatever her plan required him to be. None of his normal mental commands brought about any movement, so he figured he was some type of clothing. And since he was cast in darkness, it was logical to think his new form was beneath the sheets he had been wrapped up in just moments before. ‘So her plan is to wear me to college? I guess that fixes the whole fitting me in the car thing, but she can’t wear me for three straight weeks, I would smell by then.’ His thoughts were interrupted by a deep sigh emanating from above, he heard it first, but then the sensation of his sister breathing out the shallow yet relaxing breath shook his new form. The newest predicament he was in was only solidified as her voice sent vibrations through him. “There ya’ go… clos’ to my heart an’ I can hav’ you with m’ all tha’ time…” she mumbled quietly as she readjusted the blankets around her. “Don’ wrry. I will connect our minds whn I wake up… I still wan’ talk to ya’.” ‘Oh god… really Hailey? You are that against going somewhere new?’ he thought as the truth set in. A flash of light as she rolled over cast a pink tint over his vision, allowing him to note the blankets were not what was blinding him. Instead it was the neon pink tank top his sister was wearing the night before when she came into his room to watch movies. His whole body lurched and bounced as she finished rolling over onto her back, letting his new weight settle across her chest - or rather in her chest. The small breaths of his once more sleeping sibling sending small vibrations throughout his being. In her sleepy stupor, Hailey had used her magic to place his essence inside of her breasts. The two C-Cup mounds now housing his entire consciousness. This was only the third time he had actually been a part of sister despite years of her experimenting on him - the first being as her hair after she cut part of it off and used him as a replacement, and the second as her foot when she was about to run her first track meet on varsity in high school. And at the moment he was really wishing she didn’t move around so much in her sleep. His form was constantly shifting with her body, bouncing him back and forth even if just slightly. So when the alarm finally went off, signalling Hailey had about two hours left before Wendy arrived, he was relieved. The sleeping teen threw the covers off and sat up quickly, making Brian bounce again within her top. “Ugh… thank you for being the best brother ever and setting an alarm before you left Bry… you are a saint.” Her sleepy rant sent a chill through his new body. ‘And she doesn’t know what she did to me. Great, this is like the panty thing all over again.’ Brian bounced with each step Hailey took back to her room even if he was trying to still himself. Hailey meanwhile didn’t seem to notice the war going on within her, instead just scratching her head and yawning as she entered her room and began undressing. Thanks to his countless stints as pieces of her wardrobe, Brian was essentially immune to the sight of his sister nude. Though as she tossed her tank into the hamper where her shorts went just prior, he couldn’t help but stare at her chest as it moved with the flow of her body. ‘God, knowing I’m her boobs and seeing myself in the mirror from that perspective are two very different things.’ His sister paid no mind to his mental plight, plowing straight on into the bathroom after setting out an outfit for the trip. Turning on the shower, she stepped into the warm spray and began washing herself. When he was her hair, Brian was a large part of her daily routine. He was washed, dryed, straightened, styled, and every other thing under the sun. All of it being oddly enjoyable seeing as he was nothing more than her hair at that point. But being a part of her actual body she washed with care? It felt immensely different from what he was expecting with even experience as her foot under his belt. When she first lathered him with soap, he felt an even more intense warmth course through his form, making him feel uncomfortably hot but also really good. The tingles her hands sent up his nonexistent spine felt incredible, especially when she kneaded the two parts of his being together. About halfway through the wash, he could tell the heat inside of him wasn’t his own, rather it was Hailey’s arousal. Which made him dryly chuckle. ‘Technically I guess that is my arousal too then since I’m a part of her right now…’ he thought. The shower went on much longer than a normal one should have - even for Hailey. And it was with both great dismay and forced pleasure he felt his sister and therefore his own body prepare for finish. Dainty hands clamped on to the nubs sitting on his body, sending immense waves of pleasure through Brian’s entire essence. He felt the shudder and release that followed and couldn’t help the mixed feelings he experienced. After her climax, Hailey finished her shower and began toweling off - quickly realizing she had spent more than 45 minutes in the bathroom already. As she finished drying her hair and styling it into her normal wild yet controlled look, he could see the moment something clicked in her head. Her blue eyes widened and he could see them dart downward, looking at her breasts through the mirror before gasping and dropping the towel. One of her hands gently cupped her left breast and the other was busy covering her face. “Oh my god. Please tell me that was just me remembering an awful dream and not realizing I turned my brother into my boobs while I was still waking up?” The look on her face was one of both hope and mortification as her other hand traveled down and cupped the other breast. Both hands glowed a faint pink and her face flushed redder than he had ever seen it. ...

The Abusive Irritation Finally Ends. So, let me introduce myself, I am Gabriella. I am the epitome of a well to do modern lady. My wardrobe is full of designer clothing, I have access to every exclusive spa and gym. I drive a hot little sports car which is replaced like clockwork every year. So why am I writing this, well I wanted to share a little story about how everything is not always as it seems. The grass is not always greener. ...

story continues from part nineteen Chapter 20 Sitting and listening to the drone of the propellers of this C130 Herki bird winging its way back to blightey I realised just how much I was looking forward to seeing Suzi again. The last three months have been more painful than I would have thought. Missing someone as much as I have missed her is, to say the least, very unusual for me. But I hadn’t had anyone to do the things we did before I left. I still remember her hair and the way it flashed in the half-light of our barn. The look in her eyes as I tied the ropes tighter so they dug into her skin. Her grunts and groans as she crashed through another orgasm brought on by the mixture of pain and pleasure. ...

Story continued from part four Part 5: The Latex Nun. (or Bad Habits) Snake swallowing female It was time to feed my very special pet again, I had grown to love my own pet snake that we kept down in the basement in an enclosure, this was the modified snake that my husband had bought me to fulfill my fantasies of being devoured by a snake, but one that I could experience over and over, as the snake was genetically made to digest only the special feeding gel and not my flesh and bones. The last time I had him bind me and feed me to the snake, the video we made was of me dressed as a harem girl, and I was being punished by being fed to the snake, it was very erotic for me being forced to be eaten, and I did cum several times whilst the snake was swallowing me, and also more whilst I was deep down inside of the snake’s belly while it digested the feeding gel that coated my bound body. The video was one of those that I watched over and over again, my fingers rubbing at my hot, wet sex and giving me more shuddering orgasms as the events unfolded on the screen. This time I was feeding the snake while my husband was away on business, he would be gone for the whole week, so I thought why not spend some quality time inside of the snake. Let’s see, I had been a maid before, and then the harem girl, so what would I dress up as this time? I did this more to tease & arouse both myself and my husband, who would be watching the video I would make to show him what I had been up to while he was away. I looked through the wardrobe at the costumes that I had managed to gather, knowing that I would be wearing them to entice my partner in bed, but now also to star in our little video sessions we have when I feed the snake. There was a schoolgirl outfit. I took this off of the rack and held it against my body, ‘Mmm’ I thought, ‘Not today!’ Placing it back, I moved over several others until I found the sexy nun’s habit made of all things from latex, “Now that’s wicked!” I said to myself. I had originally worn this to a ‘Vicars & Tarts’ fancy dress party, the guys dressed as tarts while the girls were the vicars and nuns. ‘That will do for today’, I thought. Then I also thought that I would wear it with no underwear, just like a naughty nun would be. With the outfit for today’s feeding session chosen, I went around the house making sure that the place was secure, as I would be down in the basement inside of the snake for the night. Once I was happy with things upstairs, I headed down to see my special friend in the basement. There was the snake and upon seeing me, nudged the glass wall of its enclosure, letting me know that it was hungry and wanting to be fed. “Patience my scaly friend, I will be feeding you shortly,” I said, my hand touching the other side of the glass where the snake’s head was. I was already dressed in my costume for this session, the latex swishing as I moved around the room, the light glistening off of the material; I prepared the video cameras, lighting etc., and made sure that everything was ready, as I had done many times now it seemed part of the pre-feeding ritual. With the cameras now rolling I stepped out of view and then walked back in and started to act as my character. I walked into the shot of the camera and looked around, my latex habit brushing against my naked flesh underneath arousing me. Then I turned and spotted the snake, “Oh my!” I exclaimed, “It is the devil’s disciple come to test this poor nun.” My hands now at my face in mock shock, “Oh please, what should I do?” Yes not very original, but I was ad-libbing here. The snake again banged on the glass, wanted to be fed but also playing into my role. “What do you wish of me serpent?” I asked, and dropped to my knees, my hands clasped in a prayer-like position. The snake again poked at the glass, its tongue darting out testing the air, looking for its next meal. “Oh, you’re hungry Mr Snake, whatever do you feed on?” I asked turning from the snake back to the camera, asking my video audience what I should do. Again the snake seemed to bang against the window whilst looking at me, showing its intent on what food it likes, making it clear that it wanted me as its food, as usual. “Oh, you wish to eat me,” I said turning to the camera, “The snake seems to be testing me, it wants me as its dinner, whatever shall I do?” Standing up I walked closer to the snake, my hand touching the glass, “Don’t tempt me, foul creature, you must know that I have been wicked and deserve to be punished.” And I reached up and pulled the latex habit off of my body, it pooled around my ankles leaving me standing there naked, except for the rope harness I had tied on myself in the bedroom, the rope crisscrossing my body from my shoulders to between my legs, running around my breasts and tightly holding me in its embrace. “See, I am sinful, my body cries out for you, take me serpent and do what you will to me. I need to be punished for my wicked, sinful ways.” Then I walked over to the storage area where we keep the jars of feeding gel and selected one of the new ‘standard-plus’ ones and started to rub it all over my body, the gel would feed the snake for the next few days, and I would be inside of the snake for the next 10-12 hours, or overnight basically. A lovely way to spend the night in my books, I get some of my best sleep while feeding the snake, that’s after all of the orgasms, of course, they wear me out. Now coated I tied my ankles together, and put my wrists through the pre-prepared looped rope that was also threaded into the rope harness, my hands would be tightly held against my crotch, where my fingers would dance their tune on my little nub. I then hobbled over to the enclosure door and opened it, the snake sensing that the door was now open, started to move and look for its dinner - me. I lay down in front of the cameras and waited for the snake to find me, my wrists tugging gently on the crotch rope, building my arousal. The snake slithered out of the enclosure and using its tongue sensed that its food was ready, the meal was laying waiting and that there was no danger to the snake. Soon its tongue found my feet, the probing of which tickled them, sending delightful tingles through my bound body. The snake now happy started to prepare, opening its jaws to feed on the meal before it. Soon my feet were inside of its mouth, the flesh enclosed within the snake’s throat. Working quickly, the snake was soon over my knees; the snake seemed to be getting better at eating me I thought. But now came the tricky, more difficult parts of my body, first up was my thighs, now they are not massive but the muscles there are meatier than my calves. The snake slowed down as it swallowed them, my fingers now rubbing the folds of my sex and the little pleasure button more vigorously. Next came my hips, and as before the snake managed to lift up my body to ease the passing of them into its mouth. Soon my waist was inside as well, leaving only my breasts, shoulders and head left. The snake repeated the process of lifting me and using gravity to enable it to swallow a large body mass; my breasts disappeared into the soft interior of the snake’s mouth. I could feel my legs and hips sliding down inside of the snake, the internal muscles moving its meal down towards its stomach. It felt like an intense, soothing massage. Now that my breasts were safely inside of the snake, my shoulders presented no obstacle, and soon they too were inside of the snake, the process of swallowing its prey now almost over. The snake stopped to rest while I had one of my intense orgasms, my body shuddering inside of the snake, held tightly by the internal walls of the snake’s body and the tight rope harness that I wore this time around. “Take me snake; I am yours,” I said, mainly for the camera audience. And my head then was drawn inside of the snake’s mouth, the light from the room fading from my vision as it disappeared inside of the snake. I was now on my way to the snake’s stomach, where I would lay while the snake digested the feeding gel, but on the way down I would bring myself to another wonderful climax or two. The snake once it had finished swallowing the last part of me, lay still and waited for my body to pass down into its stomach, only once there would the snake move back into its enclosure and the safety of its crate, which it lived in. It would then curl up with me inside and sleep while it digested its stomach contents. *** The next morning I was awoken by the movement of the snake, it had begun to move out of its crate and over next to the door of its enclosure, I was soon finding that I was on my way back out from its stomach, the feeding gel now absorbed, the snake regurgitated the remains of its meal, the unwanted parts. I should feel rejected, but I know that it’s part of the process and I would soon be back inside the comfortable, enclosure of the snake once more the next time it needed feeding. Laying there naked and still bound, I usually wait for my husband Jerry to come down and retrieve me from the enclosure, he would then use me for his pleasure, but this time he was still away, so I would have to release myself and finish up. I crawled out of the enclosure and found the knife I left ready to cut the ropes that bound my wrists. Once free I would make sure that the cameras were off and head upstairs for a much-needed bath. After some breakfast, I headed back down and closed the glass door to keep the snake in its enclosure, and then I gathered the hard drive that records all of the action and headed upstairs to watch the video I had just made. I wanted to surprise my husband with the new video, I even thought about sending it to him for him to enjoy in the privacy of his hotel room, but I was the one about to get a surprise. I sat down on the computer that Jerry normally uses to process the videos and the editing program to take out the parts that were boring and not part of the scene that I’d played out with the snake. It was only when I’d opened up the computer browser that I discovered a snake-vore website that I hadn’t seen before. I got the shock of my life when I clicked on the link and saw my image on the screen, there I was dressed up in costume, and then stripped naked and bound, before being fed to the snake. This was the recent harem girl scene we had done together. At first, I wondered how they had gotten hold of our video, but then looking at others on the site, they were all of me being eaten by the snake. I sat there transfixed at the images on the screen, even though I had lived every moment, it still turned me on watching the woman being eaten by the creature., the same as I had when watching the playback with Jerry, while curled up next to him on the sofa. After getting over the shock of the discovery, and the usual arousal that comes with me being devoured, my thoughts then turned to why they were on the internet. The ‘who’ had done this was becoming evident to me, my husband must have done this I reasoned, there was only myself and him who knew about the playtime we had in the basement, and the videos we’d made to capture it and enjoy together later. I needed to know, and the best way to find answers was to ask. I rang my husband’s mobile phone, he picked up and said, “Hi Darling, is there anything the matter?” I answered, “Well yes dear, it seems that we have a little website of my adventures online, with all of the images and videos of me being eaten, do you know who’s responsible?” “Ah! That…” he responded sheepishly. “Yes, that!” I started to get a bit angry with him. “I can explain.” He said. “Please do, and quickly or else.” I spat. “You know that there are websites out there that cater to our fetish, you know, women being eaten and such.” He paused, waiting for me to respond. “And…” I eventually replied. “Well, the videos you’ve made were so good, that I had to share them with others, I posted some images of the first video on a forum, and it went on from there, the demand for videos of you being swallowed are very popular, it just sort of took off.” He stated. “So you like sharing images of your wife naked and bound on the web, without even asking me if I wanted to be involved, isn’t there a law about that or something?” I said, “Besides which, what if people who know me see me on the street after watching the videos?” “The chance of that happening are remote, and even if they did see you, what would they say to you, ‘Gee, great video, nice to see you being eaten.’” He laughed. “Sure laugh all you want, but I’m the one with her face and other parts on the screen.” I cried, “And I’m masturbating and cumming too!” “Have you seen the reviews and comments that you’ve been getting?” he said, trying to switch the conversation around. “No, I haven’t; it seems that you need to be a member or something to see those,” I said, my embarrassment at images of me on screen cumming, my fingers poised over my little nub in clear focus, over took all other thoughts. “You can log in on my user account.” He replied and gave me the information. I logged in and began reading the comments, my husband still talking to me on the phone and telling me which ones to look at first. It did seem that I was very popular online and my scenes with the snake were enjoyed by many, though I did wonder who was watching me being eaten and then thought, ‘Hey, you also watch other women getting devoured, and you found it a turn on too.’ “So you see, there are many out there wanting to see you being eaten, and they want more, including me,” Jerry said. “I know that I should have asked you, but things took off so rapidly, that it took a life of its own.” “And people pay to see me being eaten?” I asked, wondering what sort of benefit there could be for me out of this. “Yes, they do, and we have many monthly subscribers who pay each month to watch you being eaten. And as you can see by the many requests, that they have many ideas for outfits and scenes for you to use for more videos.” Jerry replied. “Plus I know that the snake and the fixing up of the basement was my present to you, which I loved giving to you, but the website has paid for both and will also allow for more money for you to spend on costumes and yourself.” He added. “I guess we will continue this conversation when you get home,” I said, still in shock at what he had done to me. “I’ll get things tidied away today and catch the late flight home; I’ll be home soon. Please don’t do anything until I get there.” He asked. *** Later that evening Jerry arrived home, he rushed in expecting to see mayhem and things thrown around, especially the cameras and computer, he’d been building up his expectations on the flight home and was relieved to see that nothing had been touched. He found me sitting in the lounge, a glass of wine in hand, watching the videos we’d made of the snake and me. He was pleased that I was awake and seemingly not upset, he took that by the video I was watching. “HI, Darling.” He said, trying to gauge my temperament. “Hi.” Was my terse reply, followed by a gulp of my wine. “So…” he started to say. “You bastard! How could you do this to your own wife? I thought that the videos we made were private, just for us to watch and enjoy. What gives you the right to post them online without asking me?” I spat out with the pent up anger that had been building all day. “I’m sorry…” he said, his posture changing, he looked defeated, and his face was ashen. I have never spoken to him like this before; I think it came as a bit of a shock to him. “Sorry, sorry doesn’t even start to make amends!” I was speaking louder now, “I’m upset and angry with you, you should have asked me…” “I didn’t know what to do…” he said, “The site just took over…” “That’s no excuse.” I sobbed, “I trusted you.” He rushed over now that I was crying, he placed his arms around me and hugged me. I fought to get him off of me but ended up crying into his shoulder. We sat there in silence for at least twenty minutes, I having calmed down now, curled up in his arms, my anger spent. “Take me to bed,” I whispered. It was a surprised husband who carried his wife in his arms upstairs to bed that night, he made passionate love to me and brought out a couple of orgasms before he finished himself, not that I was in the mood for sex, I just wanted to feel close to him at this moment. *** In the morning he found the bed empty, he wondered where I was and, after checking my wardrobes still contained my clothes and I didn’t appear to have left him, he walked around the house to look for me. I was on the computer in his office looking at the website again and reading everything on there. “Morning.” He said, making sure to leave the ‘good’ part out for fear of creating another argument. “Morning,” I replied, my mood now lighter after last night. “Looking at the website again?” he asked. “Huh-huh,” I grunted while still looking at the screen. “I expect that I need to take down the site today?” He asked. “Why?” I answered. “Because I never asked you, and also because you are so upset…” he started to say. “No, there’s no need to take it down; the images once posted online can never be erased; they always remain somewhere on the web or someone’s computer,” I stated. “We might as well let them enjoy the images, I did and so did you, so I can deal with it when the time comes if I know someone who sees this.” “Oh…” he was speechless. I knew that I had won, even though I was angry I had reasoned to myself that I had enjoyed making the videos, I had also watched online several websites that catered to my fetish, and it gave me a little thrill to know that someone was out there watching me being eaten by the snake, and enjoying watching it too. “Now I know about the site, are there any other secrets?” I asked. “No, nothing else.” He said very quickly. “So, what did you discover on the website?” he asked. “I have read all of the comments; they seem to be very complimentary of both the snake and me, there are several good ideas for different scenes that we can use, I just need the costume. And there are some, that well, are best left to the imagination.” I said, looking at him with a wry smile on my face. The thought of real snakes eating me, while erotic, would be a one-off deal and not something I would want to do. I was content with my own snake. “Yes, there are some weird people out there.” He laughed. “And I don’t want to lose you.” “You had best show me how you edit the videos, so I know how it’s done and can post them when you’re not here,” I asked. “Sure, no problem,” Jerry said relieved that I seem to be so accepting this morning. “And here’s the latest video I’d made to surprise you, the Latex Nun and the Serpent,” I said handing him the hard drive with the latest unedited recording on it. The shocked look on his face was priceless. ...

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

I own a small repair garage in north central Indiana. It’s a modest place, but it keeps food in the table. Every morning before I open, I go get some breakfast and coffee with a bunch of the local boys. The food is passable, but the highlight of the day is when Lucinda comes in the joint. Lucinda, or Cindy as she likes to be called, is the wife of Caleb Fisher. Now, Caleb is at least 50 years old, kind of grizzled old fart that has a big farm. We all can’t figure out how he got Cindy. Cindy is this 25 year old vixen. She has a pretty heart shaped face with a turned up nose, and a figure that is absolutely flawless. I mean I get a hard on just glancing across the diner when she walks in. …and, Oh God, the way she walks! ...

A while ago, I was a waiter at a restaurant. There were only 3 guy waiters among 20 or so girl waitresses. After work one day, me and a bunch of co-workers were having some drinks. As the evening wore on, many of us, including me, got fairly tipsy. In the end, it was just me and this other waitress left at the bar. Jessi was a very pretty girl, with long, platinum-blonde hair, nice, quite huge tits, thickly rimmed black glasses, and a gorgeous, friendly smile. She had a wonderful, shapely ass, and her figure was very trim. It was nice to see her out of her waitress uniform (which was a tight short-sleeved shirt and short skirt) for once. She had on jeans and a long-sleeved tight white shirt undone at the top few buttons. Also, she usually wore her hair up while working, but she had let it down now. She looked great. Somehow, the conversation had gotten around to our sexual fantasies. She told me she had been the bartender at a strip club, and she seemed to be quite well acquainted with the kinkier side of life. She said she swallowed, did anal, liked some costume play, and so on. I told her I sometimes liked a girl to wear a schoolgirl outfit, I loved anal, and so on. After too many drinks, and our conversation about sex, I was fucking horny! We were getting really friendly with each other, I might even say flirting. I wound up deciding drunkenly that I would get a hooker after I finished hanging out with Jessi, because I was so horny, and I actually told her this! Normally, I wouldn’t either get a hooker or tell anyone about it if I did, but I was pretty drunk. But instead of telling me off for it, Jessi said that there was no need to call a prostitute. She could ‘service’ me, if I liked. Whoah, snap! It was totally unexpected, and my answer was like, “Fuck yes!” We sipped our drinks. I was pretty excited about sleeping with Jessi and I confided to her, “Jessi, I’ve never been with a hooker in my life! But I had in mind something that I normally wouldn’t know how to ask a girl, and I probably wouldn’t…” “OK,” she smiled confused, playfully. “Well, I kinda want her to do something a bit special for me… I want her to be my real live fuck-doll for the evening!” “Go on…” “I guess I’d like her to dress up sexy and basically just hold still as I fuck her or whatever. I know it sounds a little weird… It’s just something I’ve wanted to try.” After a slight, pensive pause, Jessi said, “Mister, you’ve got yourself a fuck-doll. Let’s go!” I paid the tab, my cock nearly bursting outa my pants, and we grabbed a cab back to hers. “Make yourself at home, I’m just gonna go get changed,” she said inside. The place wasn’t too big, but it was nice; cozy. Actually, I was too drunk and horny to look around much, so I just sat down and stroked my hard cock through my pants. … The next thing I knew, it was morning, and I was laying by myself on Jessi’s couch with a blanket over me! ‘Oh god!’ I was thinking, ‘how fucking embarrassing… I must’ve passed out!’ I was roused by the delicious smells of eggs and coffee so I got up. In the kitchen in the next room (which I hadn’t seen the night before) Jessi was making breakfast… wearing a sexy schoolgirl outfit! “Oh, hello,” she said musically, smiling. “Thanks for puttin’ the blanket over me last night… Man, I’m so embarrassed!” But she cut me off, “No worries, we’d both had quite a bit to drink! How do you feel?” “Great, I mean, I must’ve slept well. And you?” “Fine… Horny.” “Horny? Well, I might be able to help you there…” “That’s just what I was hoping. Do you like sex in the morning? What do you think of this outfit?” “You look fucking hot,” I said, my dick getting harder in my pants by the moment. “Breakfast can wait. You still remember that little fantasy you told me about last night?” “Yeah sure, I think so…” She came over to me slowly, swaying her hips. She had on the typical short, red-plaid schoolgirl sex-outfit skirt, a skimpy white top tied together between her tits in a loose knot, her hair in two, gorgeously cute pigtails, white socks up to her knees, shiny, black platform shoes with buckles and the heels raised, and her sexy black glasses. She smiled at me seductively as she knelt before me undoing my fly. “Oooh!” she said in mock surprise as my lengthening snake uncoiled from within my pants in her slender, exploring, hands. Her fingernails were tiny pink shiny candies. She took my cock in her hands, and then straight into her hot, wet, schoolgirl’s mouth; an early-morning blow job. I was still waking up and it was all a bit too wonderful to believe. I had often jerked-off imagining my gorgeous co-worker in just this exact position, and wondered momentarily if I might, in fact, be dreaming. She sucked my now rock-hard cock like a pro, kneading my balls as she sucked my shaft. Her dark red lipstick came off onto my rod as she sucked me hungrily. Looking down at her looking back up at me, I realized how much trouble she’d gone to for me this morning, and it made me horny as hell. She had on lots of makeup and looked just like a gorgeous super-realistic rubber fuck-doll. After sucking my cock for some time she popped it out of her mouth and said, “OK, you seem ready now. You just tell me what position you want me in.” It was fucking incredible! I told her, and she stood up with her palms on the wall, her ass out-thrust towards me as I’d asked. ...

Non-consensual, Public Bondage, Public Humiliation, Public Shaving, Naked in Public, Public Sex, Public Spanking, Public Threesome, Mouth to Ass, Public Anal, Mouth to Cunt, Masturbation, Pain Slut = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Olivia’s alter ego Oyly is released in a public performance. Olivia Franklin awakes to find herself in a strange theater where she is forced to participate in an erotic performance involving humiliation, spanking, masturbation, and several other interesting sexual practices. At the end of the performance she is called upon to make what is perhaps the most important decision of her life. ...

“Just… ugh, explain it to me again, okay?” I rubbed my eyes in the dull morning glow and sat back down on the sofa. Opposite me, a girl with long jet-black hair, dark makeup and big brown eyes gave an exasperated gasp. “I don’t know how else to explain it to you, dude!” She crossed her arms over her chest, wearing a loose black t-shirt with a digitally distorted skull figure on it. “Okay alright just… start at the beginning again. You found this ‘job posting’ on some website?” She nodded. “About two weeks ago. I’m in need of the cash now that my hours have been cut to almost nothing, and this seemed like a reasonably legitimate gig.” “So you’re… being paid to test this… thing.” “Yes.” She waved her hands over herself. “This is some kind of weird… suit, that I put on each morning, and then I have to wear it for at least a couple hours a day. Don’t ask me how it works!” - She held up a hand before I could even get the words out of my mouth - “I honestly don’t know. The woman running the test gave me a box with this suit in it and a trunk of clothing, and just gave me instructions to wear it each day and to send her pictures of me in it. She gave me half the money up front, and promised the rest plus expenses after four weeks.” I just frowned and tried to make sense of it. “… Okay… but it… turned you into a… a chick?” She raised an eyebrow and gave a half-shrug. “I guess so. I mean. I’m back to normal as soon as I take it off, so it’s just temporary.” “But how is that even… you… how does it…” “I already told you I don’t know. It’s got this kind of gross slimy surface on the insides, and when I put it on it sticks onto me like a plaster. Once it’s on me, I can feel everything as if I wasn’t wearing anything special at all, just… feels like real skin, y’know?” I kept frowning in disbelief as she sat up slightly, opening and closing her right hand on the desk chair opposite me. I had commanded her to sit down there after I’d woken up early and found this stranger rummaging through the kitchen - I thought she was some punk rocker that Dan knew, but when she tried to tell me that she was Dan, I was hesitant to believe her. What if she was some kind of crazy ex? I stood up and pointed “W-well… okay, if you’re really Dan, then, I dunno, tell me something only Dan would know.” “Seriously dude?” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, like… I know your real name isn’t Frank, it’s Francis but you don’t like the way that name sounds, and you broke your arm in middle school trying to ride a skateboard down a staircase, and that you dated Sarah even though you said you didn’t l-” “Okay alright! I believe you, okay?” I rubbed my eyes again. “Fuck… alright… you’re Dan.” “Yes!” She relaxed, sighing. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep you in the loop, alright?” “I mean, I don’t think I’d have believed you if you had, but… it’s alright.” I sat back down opposite the weird girl-shaped roommate. “This is a really weird-ass kind of hobby, though.” She pursed her lips defensively, which only made the fact that they had dark red lipstick on them more obvious. “Man it’s not, like, for fun or anything! It’s for this woman I found on the internet, who actually turned out to be LEGIT, and has already paid me serious cash. She said she was some kind of inventor that specialised in really weird stuff.” I snorted. “To be honest I’m more surprised you actually found a chick on the internet that actually turned out to be a chick!” She gave a small smile. “Not the usual kind of ‘job’ on the internet, I guess. It was pretty vague in description, but didn’t stink of all the usual fake or scam hallmarks, so I gave it a chance and it turned out to be… this.” I looked her up and down. “So, tell me again - you wear this… you wear ‘her’ for a couple hours a day and then… that’s it?” “Well, that’s what I was told to do at the start. That woman also texts me every now and then asking for some specific stuff, like wear some particular outfit and send her pictures, or sometimes visit her in such and such place to tell her how things are going.” My turn to raise an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s… unusual… and how are things going, then?” I was immensely curious by this point. “Well as you can tell, the thing works pretty damn well, even down to changing how my voice sounds. You could never tell it was me, could you?” I shook my head. “So that means it’s working as expected, right?” “Well… I mean… I’ve been experiencing some… weird feelings sometimes if I’m honest.” Seriously dude? “Oh, feelings like ‘what the hell are you doing wearing a suit that turns you into a chick for two weeks’?” She gave me a sour look. “No, actually, smartass. That’s been surprisingly easy to adjust to.” She stood up and took a step over to look out the window, her hands in her hoodie pockets. “I’ve been having weird dreams sometimes, and I have this kind of headache after I-…” “… After you what?” Her eyes widened. After a millisecond of deduction, I figured it out. “After you finish jacking off as a woman.” I kept a straight face as she spun around, agitated. “Dude!” “What? It’s obvious! It’s literally the first thing everyone would do if they had the chance!” “But… I know, but it’s still… I don’t really wanna be talking about that, y’know?” I huffed. “Understandable. But still, you did it… what’s it like? How’s it compare?” She turned around again, hiding her face. “I’m not gonna… well I’ll say it’s… different. Just different.” Hm. “Well okay then. You’ve been, uh, ’testing’ this girl out for a while now, and you’ve been dressing up and meeting this inventor lady, and now you say you’ve had weird dreams?” “Not just dreams.” She crossed her arms again. “It’s like… sometimes I feel it… moving, like without me consciously doing anything, right?” She pulled on her elbow. “It’s like those freaky involuntary twitches you get when you smack somethin’ just below your kneecap, only it’s really slow and hard to notice until it’s happened.” “… okay, that’s… even weirder. And you’ve reported this stuff to the lady?” “Not yet - I can’t really say for certain what’s even happening, and even if I did I’d have to explain to her that I… well, y’know.” She made a vague gesture and I nodded. “Right, she didn’t mention any kind of stuff you shouldn’t do or whatever?” “Nope. And now there’s…. " Turning back, she shuffled over to the loosely hanging hall mirror and started feeling around the back of her neck. “… I keep losing it but… there’s definitely some kind of… thing sticking out of my neck whenever I’m inside the suit. ...

Chapter 1 My name is Anna. I just had the most incredible, fantastic, spectacular, awesome sex!!! Before I tell you about it, I have to give you some information leading up to this moment. I have been married to a great guy for almost three years. He is handsome, smart, kind, and considerate. He is a hard-worker, has a good job, is well mannered and has good personal hygiene. He is almost perfect and most women would say I am lucky to be married to such a great guy. I suppose I should be happy to settle for a guy so close to perfect, but I just can’t. His only fault is in the bedroom. His idea of love making is plain old boring sex or no sex at all. ...

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am your magician for the evening,” the guy on the small stage announced. “Most of the evening I shall be doing small tricks for people at their tables, but if anyone wants to see or volunteer for any of the well known stage illusions or even request something that has not been seen, you will find small note pads on your tables; just write me a note and hand it to your waitress and I’ll see if I can oblige. I hope to do two or three items of magic on this stage for all this evening.” ...

How did I end up in this box? I don’t know. Well, that’s not entirely true; I know exactly what lead up to me being in this box, except I do not know how I got into the box. You seem puzzled. Let me explain what I know. It all began when I read an ad in the local paper. It read:- Magician seeks female “audience volunteer” for magic act. Must be outgoing (probably actress, perhaps exhibitionist), able to keep a secret and available to perform on 1st September, no rehearsals required, standard rates and expenses paid. Initial contact by email, please attach picture. ...

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe. continued from part 6 Part 7 William was taken to a room where he was directed to clean up for his appearance before the WORLD Board of Directors. He took a quick shower and brushed his teeth. Bulldyke carefully examined him to made sure that he was completely clean and presentable. She handed him two pills. William knew what they were, but his cock was still hard from the last dose. ...

Chapter 1 Claire and I had been friends for ages. We both seemed to know that at sometime in the future we would be lovers. It was one of those friendships where you know each others’ mates and go to the same parties but just never sort of get together. Claire seemed to be really sad at this party and being of a group of people who always have a laugh she stood out in her desolation. ...

Can someone avoid prophecy given by a girl kissed by the Fey? I think the wee folk are playing with me, but this is the story the Pixies gave me for this year’s Halloween specials. It rolls some Celtic traditions in with some other traditions from the old times to present a tale of a witch who isn’t really a witch… except that she is. * * * * * * * * * * * * ...

Can someone avoid prophecy given by a girl kissed by the Fey? I think the wee folk are playing with me, but this is the story the Pixies gave me for this year’s Halloween specials. It rolls some Celtic traditions in with some other traditions from the old times to present a tale of a witch who isn’t really a witch… except that she is. * * * * * * * * * * * * ...

My 25th story. Make what you will of it. Possibly it’s a milestone. We’ll see. Ellen Carstairs was driving from her home to the local news agency in the mountain suburb in which she lived. This small business was one of a dozen which comprised the shopping centre of this remote community which was considered a backwater by the inhabitants of the large urban metropolis to the east. But its locals liked their quiet, tranquil locality and would not have changed it. ...

“Look, you are my best friend and all, but there is no way I am doing this,” the tall mid-20s guy says while standing outside a Venn Machine. “Come on, man,” the other well-dresses, mid-20s guy says next to him, “This is the only way to fix it… we have to do it… no matter what our pride might think.” The two handsome, young men face each other, knowing there is no way they can go back, but they are not sure they can actually go forward. Maybe you need to understand the situation… Chance and Joel have been best friends since they were 10, so going to the same college, after high school, seemed obvious. Since Chance’s family was excessively rich, they lived at his house. They have changed their major a dozen times, at least, in the first 3 years and hope to pull another 3 more years out of college before they are 30. Chance’s parents are mostly disengaged, as they both have high paying salaries doing things that Chance has never asked about. For him, life is just one big party, which usually takes place at his house and his parent’s maidbots clean-up. He can stay at home so long as he is in college, but on graduation day, he is out into the real world, and they are trying to milk the good life for as long as they can. So, when his parents were away, he does not do anything different, except that he knows his dad will check all the house data logs upon his return. In those data logs are all in entrances and exits of people coming and going around the house, as well as all the digital footprints of any mobile devices. He has learned that he can be grounded if he breaks anything that costs real money, which is essentially just the maidbots. Therefore, he is more careful with them during those times. However, this last party, things got out of hand and well, both were broken beyond his repair (one word: pretzel). He can delete the error logs for that night, so long as the maidbots boot up normally the next day. But, there is no way the repair store can have them running until the end of the week. So, that bad decision has led to this night, which might be another bad decision… Chance, dragging a maidbot in his arms, says, “Look, it will work. We will become maidbots for the week. Our girl friends will drop off the broken ones at the shop.” Joel holds up his hand, balancing the maidbot he is dragging on one arm, and asks, “But why do we need our girlfriends to be us?” Repositioning the heavier-than-it-looks maidbot in his arms, Chance replies, “Mom and dad will be home the day before the maidbots are ready. So, our girlfriends need to be us for one day. Once the real maidbots are ready, they can Venn us all back to normal.” Joel nods his head, thinking he has the plan in his mind, but it still seems risky. Finally at the Venn machine on the other side of town (“no one should recognize us here,” Chance assures), they set up their maidbots in the machine. “Ok, so I will make a copy of this maidbot to become you, and you make the other maidbot a copy for me.” Joel frowns, “Why do I have to be the red head? I wanna be blonde.” Joel makes the obvious observation that the maidbots are not exactly the same. Looking at their outfits, they both wear the standard latex maid uniforms: black microskirt, black corset, elbow-length gloves, knee-length stockings, neck-covering choker, 3-inch heels, and hair pull back. Each of the items have a white latex edge that looks frilly, but it is not. Each with hourglass figures, large chests, wide hips, and long legs, makes them every guy’s fantasy come true. The difference between them is their heads. One has blonde hair just past her shoulders with wide, beautiful face, and the other has red hair that bobs above her shoulders with a more narrow, gorgeous face. Chance rolls his eyes and consents, “Fine! Trade me for the blonde…” They swap maidbots clumsily, stepping closer to the Venn machine. Several people have already gone through, so they are just waiting for their moment to step in. Joel looks around as they wait, “Where’s your girlfriend? We are next!” Noticing the slight panic in his voice, Chance replies coolly, “Don’t worry, she will be here soon. And even if she isn’t, we can find a place to hang around afterwards. We might look like maidbots then, but it is not like we have to do what people say.” They both laugh at that thought. As they step up to the machine with their respective robots, Chance gets a text from his girlfriend. Relaying the message, he tells Joel, “They are finding a parking space then coming in, so we are good to go!” And with that, they step into the Venn machine. Now Chance has been researching this, knowing that you cannot just make a perfect maidbot from a Venn. Evidently, the Venn circuitry will not interface properly with actual circuitry. The work around is to use real circuitry with Venn circuitry to sort of “trick” the technological world into believing a Venn robot is an actual robot. Chance knew that a Venn robot would not be good enough to fool the security systems of their home, or the dozen other security systems installed in stores and public buildings (you would be surprised how many have tried to pretend to be a robot and get away with it). So, Chance thinks he has a way to make it work, by taking the maidbots in with them, they can copy the basic systems onto each other and hope that the proximity of them during the transformation will “reboot” the system, fooling itself into thinking that Chance and Joel are actual maidbots. He had tried to explain it to Joel, but his eyes kept glazing over. “Man,” Joel would say, “Just tell it is safe and we won’t get caught, and I’m fine.” Chance is assured by the Venn manuals (and lots of people on the Internet) that this will be perfectly safe. They will live the lives of maidbots for a week, then be turned back into their original human forms without any consequences. Still, Chance admits only to himself as they stand ready to step in, I’m a little nervous. At the point of no return, they step in and enter all the proper sequences of buttons, as stated by the Venn forums online. With it all ready, the machine does its thing, flashes some lights, makes some hissing noises, and out the other side steps two newly-made maidbots, each carrying a broken maidbot. The red headed maidbot looks down at herself and says in a monotone, “Amazing! I look just like a sexy maidbot.” The blonde haired maidbot after looking at herself then looks over at the red-headed maidbot, “You do…and so do I!” They can hear men whistling at them as they look each other over, touching places they probably should not be touching in public. Realizing this, the red-head says, “Let’s get over to the side.” Moving easily now, their new found strength in their Venn-robot bodies, they carry the other maidbots over near a closed store and prop them up against the glass. They chatter back and forth, until they both straighten up at the same time. “Hey,” one says flatly, “Do we need to register with the mall’s database?” The other replies flatly, “It says we need an update to comply. I don’t know…should we?” As they stand at attention discussing it, their girlfriends walk up. Chance has been dating Chloe for months, and she is everything he wants: sexy and more sexy. Her curves and hair and outfit and skin tone and… well, pretty much everything are amazing. She has jet black hair, light brown skin, enough chest to fill a hand but not overly so, and a bubble butt. He has not thought of marriage, but he has thought he wants to keep her around for as long as possible. Joel, on the other hand, is dating Chloe’s best friend: Kiera. To be honest, she is only dating Joel because she can spend more time with Chloe and Chance’s money. Now, do not judge her harshly, as she comes from an average family and her average looks are not going to snag a Chance. However, she has one thing that none of her friends have: the largest chest size of anybody in the state (literally, she won a state fair contest with them a few years back). So her average looks and body might be just that, but she is a nice person with plenty to show off the guys. Chloe walks up to Chance and Joel, still standing at attention, and says, “Hey Kiera, what do we have here? A couple of sexbots?” Chance tries to chuckle at that, but instead says, “Voice key confirmed: owner.” Over the noise, they do not hear him say it, as Kiera replies, “Oh girl, ya know it. Two latex robots to do whateva we want.” Joel tries to make a smart comment, but instead says, “Voice key confirmed: owner.” Since neither replied to their joke, Chloe says, “Oh right, they gotta keep up the act.” Nodding to each other, Kiera adds, “You need to do anything before we go?” Chance and Joel reply in unison, “Download updates and register with system?” Chloe and Kiera look at each other. “I don’t know,” they admit, “I mean, you did mention something about fooling the system, so… uh, yes… do that.” Chance and Joel feel something change inside them, like someone else was in their head. At first, it was like an intruder, but then they noticed quite quickly, they just became visitors in their own heads. “Well, if you two are done, grab the broken bots and lets go.” The red-head maidbot says, “Maidbot #172 running latest operating system. Compliant to Owner: Chloe.” Moving more mechanically than before, Maidbot #172 picks up the real maidbot and follows her. Kiera, noticing her boyfriend did not comply, says, “Same for you, sexybot. Grab that toaster and let’s go.” The blonde maidbot says, “Maidbot #173 running latest operating system. Compliant to Owner: Kiera.” And just like the other Venn-made robot, it grabs the broken maidbot and follows them to the car. The trip home is quiet, as the girls try to get the “boys” to break character. They pull into Chance’s mansion and have them go inside, leaving the broken maidbots in the car for delivery tomorrow morning. Once inside, the house questions about the new maidbots. “Home system, enter these two maidbots as rentals for the week. Maid #172 is to be called Bunny, while Maid #173 is to be called SpankMe.” Kiera and Chloe both laugh at the names, as they had worked them out already. Chance and Joel could feel their identities being closed off from them while in the house, as it told them they are now “Bunny” and “SpankMe”. They would roll their eyes if they could, but instead they state, “Compliant. Unit name change confirmed.” “Ok, then, get to work,” Chloe commands, “House, get these maidbots cleaning.” And as she ordered, since she was given temporary authority from Chance earlier that day, the house system sets the two new maidbots to work. Chance and Joel can only watch now as their maidbot bodies begin cleaning up the messes they had made as men. They take out garbage bag after garbage bag, they mop floors, clean windows, and dust furniture. Chloe and Kiera had been enjoying a nice chat and figure its time for dinner. “Bunny,” she yells, “Get that latex butt in here and bring me a sandwich!” Both ladies laugh at that. Kiera says the same, along with an added order of drinks, salads, and silverware. Both Bunny and SpankMe follow their new programming and begin making dinner for them. Chance watches himself cut carrots and tomatoes for the salad like a real chef. Joel sees himself make the best sandwich he has ever seen, except that he is not hungry or thirsty. “You know,” Chloe adds as the maidbots bring in the dinner, “I’m feeling exhausted from my day.” Chance reels at that, exhausted? But I have done all this work that you ordered me to. “I think you should feed me, Bunny… one bite at a time.” Kiera smiles and agrees, “Ooo, I like that sound of that.” And so the maidbots do just that, feeding the ladies their sandwiches and salads and drinks. Joel thinks to think it could not get any worse than this. “Hey, let’s watch a movie,” Chloe suggests, “There’s that love and romance movie on Hallmark at 9 tonight that Chance has never wanted to watch.” Kiera nods her head, “I’m sure Joel has never seen it either.” Smiling outwardly as all maidbots should, Chance and Joel scream internally: nooooooooo! Ordering them to sit and watch, the four ladies lounge on the large couch in the giant living room containing the wall-sized TV and watch 2 hours of romantic drama. Chloe and Kiera tear up from the movie, while Chance and Joel would like to scratch their eyes out, but they cannot stop watching the movie (in fact, they can’t even blink to miss even a fraction of a second). After its over, Chloe and Kiera send the maidbots to their charging pods, while they leave. “Ok, meet back here in the morning, so we can get them started on their day. Then, we can go to the Venn machine before dropping off the real robots.” Kiera asks, “But why are we changing into the guys so early in the week? His parents don’t come back until Friday, right?” Chloe waits until the maidbots are out of the room to answer, “Yeah, but my last class I care about for the week is done, so I’m gonna spend the week as Chance. I figure you are skipping classes all week anyway, so you would want to try out being Joel.” Kiera finds the whole Venn thing creepy and would not do it, except for her friendship with Chloe. “Oh, uh, yeah, right, I’m in,” she agrees finally. The next morning, Chloe and Kiera order Bunny and SpankMe out of their pods and into the house to continue their work. Bunny and SpankMe do just as ordered with no complaints or hesitations. “Wow, these guys are really pretending well,” Chloe mutters. They hop in Chance’s SUV with the real robots and head to the Venn machine. By lunch time, the new Chance and Joel walk back to the car. “Woah,” Chloe, who is now Chance, remarks, “This is really weird and cool at the same time.” Kiera, still staring down at her flat chest and slight pudge stomach, adds, “Yeah, this is like something out of a horror flick.” As they walk, they have to keep telling themselves not to swing their hips so much, and stop adjusting their underwear. Chloe thinks to herself, I would like to box whoever came up with boxers. They drive over to the robot shop and get the maidbots out. The clerk is an android, so it processes their request and verifies Chance’s drivers license. Checking all the boxes, “Chance” and “Joel” leave without issue. “No one suspects us,” Kiera states surprisingly. Chloe replies, “And why should they? I’m guy, and so are you!” Giggling more girl-than-guy like, they hop back in the car to head home to check on the maidbots. As Chloe-Chance walks in the door, Bunny and SpankMe stop cleaning the floors to walk over to him. They kneel down in front of him and say in unison, “Oh Master, keeper of our hearts, thank you for coming home to command us!” Both of the guys nearly fall over in laughter. They cannot believe Chance has the maidbots do that everytime he comes home. To test it, they step back outside, count to ten, and come back in the front door. The maidbots, who had just stood up, kneel down and repeat their mantra. “Oh, he ain’t never livin’ this one down!” The next couple of days go by smoothly, as Bunny and SpankMe clean and clean and clean. Chloe-Chance and Kiera-Joel spend their days swimming and cruising in cars and hanging out and eating whatever they want (the Venn machine shouldn’t be keeping track of calories, Kiera reasons, right?) …it is like their best vacation ever! The only hiccup was Wednesday night. Chloe-Chance and Kiera-Joel were enjoying some beers in the pool room (it’s what guys do when women aren’t around, Chloe tried to explain to Kiera why they were doing this), while SpankMe was cleaning the leather couch. The maidbot was bent completely over as it cleaned the couch’s lower surfaces. “Uh, hey, Chance,” Kiera-Joel asks, practicing using their fake names, “I feel a little funny watching SpankMe there.” Chloe-Chance walks over with the cue stick and watches SpankMe’s butt shake as it cleans the couch. “Woah, I feel it, too… like a pressure below my belt and a skip in my heartbeat.” They both stand mesmerized as SpankMe shimmies her latex-covered butt, unaware of what they are talking about. “You don’t think we are… uh, you know,” Kiera-Joel asks uncertainly. Tearing his eyes away, Chloe-Chance says with a snicker, “Well, you got something trying to grow out of your boxers.” Kiera-Joel looks down in time to see his unit pop out of his boxers. He squeals uncontrollably, experiencing this for the first time as a man. His reaction causes SpankMe to stand up, turn around, and walk towards him. The maidbot squeaks slightly with each walk, making his unit jump even more. Kiera-Joel mumbles something but cannot get over what his body is doing now. SpankMe kneels down in front of him and asks, “Master, need I relieve you of your package?” Kiera-Joel can only say, “What?!” SpankMe repeats the question and opens its mouth. Chloe-Chance realizes what it is doing and says, “I bet that perv Chance has them programmed to do this whenever he gets a hard on, and since you got one, the house system is just doing its thing.” Kiera-Joel states, “I realize that I have done this plenty, and Joel has felt it plenty more, but I’m not sure I want it from him… or anyone. I mean, I’m not really a guy here.” Chloe-Chance looks down and then back up, “I don’t know about that. You look like a guy.” Kiera-Joel is conflicted and in that fear, the moment passes and he relaxes. In fact, with the sexual stimulation gone, he relaxes back into his boxers. This causes SpankMe to get up and resume cleaning. Kiera-Joel murmurs, “That was close,” and Chloe-Chance adds, “And really weird.” Friday finally comes, and Chloe-Chance calls Chance’s parents. He asks if he needs to pick them up at the airport. He can hear murmuring in the background, but then his mom says, “Sure, dear, that would be just lovely.” So, Chloe-Chance drives his freshly cleaned SUV (thanks, Bunny, for scrubbing every surface with a soft toothbrush) to the airport to get “his” parents. Kiera-Joel had to handle a personal situation at her apartment, but he will be around later. Chloe-Chance has been enjoying the new strength, as he is able to easily lift up the suitcases for each of “his” parents. He gets them in the car and back home with little to no conversation. He tries to make small talk, but they seem preoccupied, so he leaves it alone. Back at the house, he again easily unloads the suitcases and gets them in the front door. The maidbots walk up and greet their owners as normal. Chance’s mom hugs him and gives him a kiss on the cheek whispering, “So proud of you, son.” As they pull apart, his mom follows Bunny up the stairs to unload their suitcases, not realizing her real son is actually in front of her. Chance’s dad turns back to him and states, “I was sure you had screwed up again, boy.” Chloe-Chance makes a shocked expression, as “his” dad continues. “I figure you wanted to pick us up to get on our good side since you left the house in a wreck, but I can see from here: the house is clean and the bots are working fine.” Chloe-Chance breathes a sigh of relief, as he adds, “I even checked the house system logs already, so I know you have been keeping the place in good shape since we have been gone.” Chloe-Chance can only smile as “his” dad claps him on the shoulder and walks to the bar, ordering SpankMe to make him a drink. Whew, Chloe-Chance thinks with a grin, we might actually pull this off. At dinner, his parents discuss their vacation off-handedly, but then ask a question that sets the conversation down a different road. “So, Chance,” his mom starts, “Where’s your latest girl friend?” Chloe-Chance notices the tone in her voice and does not like it, but he cannot let up on his ruse. “Uh, she had to take care of something tonight for school,” he says weakly. “School?” his dad says with a frown, “I thought you said she doesn’t care about school. I mean, she is just dating you for the money.” Chloe-Chance had to really bite her tongue on that one, fighting back an emotional tear. How dare they say that to me? “Well, I’m sure she enjoys the way I spoil her, but…” he does not finish as his mom cuts in. ...

Story continued from Part 13 Chapter 14: Heart Strings By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden It took him ten minutes to get to the Burger Bar. Everyone at the scene was eager to report useless information, delaying him from leaving. He ought to be on his way home, not digging himself deeper into this pit. He pushed his way into the iconic Burger Bar fast-food franchise. He hadn’t visited a place like this in years. If there was a situation, he usually sent a constable to get food for everyone, but he never went himself. Once upon a time it had been a familiar kind of place. They hadn’t changed much from the days when he’d first started out, assisting D.I. Abness. ...

Story continued from Part 14 Chapter 15: Loose Ends By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden D.C.I. Ridley followed Maeve into the toilet corridor, and she bumped open the door to the ladies’ and dragged him inside by his hi-vis vest. Aggressive. It was as if she were about to devour him. He almost expected her to kiss him passionately, then slap his face. What was this? Some kind of farce? ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A submissive caterpillar becomes an assertive butterfly. This is a very short chapter, but it did not fit with the previous chapter nor with the next. This is primarily a transition chapter and does not have much in the way of actual sex. It stands on its own, but makes a little more sense if you have read the previous chapters. ...

Story continued from Part 7 Chapter 8: Attraction By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden Maeve was a gloss-black fetish mannequin, over six-feet tall with her new legs. How would she manage shopping without creating a panic and summoning an armed police task-force? If she covered up as much of the rubber as she could, she might look merely strange, rather than instantly arousing fear and suspicion in every single person she encountered. Gloves would look peculiar, given the weather, but less odd than shiny black fingers. ...

story continued from part three Part 4. Chapter 1. It had been a long a bitter winter for Heather McCreadie even though she was safely underground. The girl woke after every ‘sleep’ praying this would be the day he’d come to see her. Even a shouted word or two down the vent pipe would be a start but all she’d endured was silence. Heather sighed and dressed herself, wearing what was still her favorite of Jenna’s outfits now it seemed to be getting warmer again. The black thigh length one, adding the high heels that she had got used to over the years. The ghosts ensuring that little of her stuff wore out once replaced in the wardrobe. Now she slipped next door for a drink and her breakfast. This of sliced bread and… well today it would be honey as she’d had jam yesterday. A look in the other jar and yes, the level was back to the top. She sat down and not for the first time recently Heather McCreadie began to cry. The tears flowing as she remembered the fine summer days, especially those of last year. When James had brought her up beyond the hatch and she’d discovered the castle hall had been turned into a dining room. A table and two chairs with champagne and a picnic feast. It’d been lovely to sit in fresh air and eat though she did wonder what the occasion had been for. Trying to be happy on discovering this was her five-year anniversary took a monumental effort. Even James realised he’d made a mistake as her face crumpled. At one point he thought she was going back down, unable to face it but as usual Heather proved her fighting spirit as she finally smiled. “Yeah, but as I’ve said it’s better than the alternative! Get the wine open pet.” Going through with the meal… and what followed downstairs afterwards. Now she’d just be happy to hear his voice as it felt like months rather than weeks since he’d left with her screams ringing in his ears. That had been traumatic enough for her, as she’d become used to the limited freedom he’d allowed her. With the front access door locked Heather now had the run of the castle during the summer months. He’d even created a studio upstairs in the tower for the girl to sit and do her drawings. But the last two visits had not gone well, and when James hadn’t returned having forced her below stairs after the second it somehow worried Heather that maybe he’d abandoned her after all! The first of the two he’d arrived but seemed a little distracted, plus the weather hadn’t helped. Heavy rain and a bit windy and he’d apologised saying he was busy and couldn’t stop long after all. They’d planned a whole day and now it’d been spoiled, James saying that there was a chance of some very bad storms coming through the area in the next few days. “This is nothing love to what they’re forcasting,” explaining that the remains of a bad hurricane were crossing the Atlantic and due to hit the whole of Scotland head on. While this happened a few times a year, this particular hurricane had caused devastation on the Eastern seaboard of the States and Canada. Many people had died despite warnings and now it was coming this way. “Well Claggan’s probably survived worse,” she quipped. Only for James to scowl at her. “Yeah, but for those of us up top it’s not so easy to deal with.” Which might be a little harsh on Heather but she paused then apologised for being flippant. He gave her a cuddle and did the same, but told her she should spend the next couple of days packing up the tower studio please. The girl dreading the winter to come as it might mean she’d… have to remain under the hatch for up to four months. She’d agreed to do that, got a hug then started after he’d gone. Emptying the cupboards and carrying the lightest of the chairs and stowing them in the manacle room. But the weather didn’t let up and the wind got so bad she was not able to get the heavier bits down the slippery staircase. So when James returned, this time in a really wound up state they had the first row in years. “Bloody hell love, I did ask for everything to come down, and all the way too. Not the manacle room but in there!” he said pointing to the first of the rooms by the hatch staircase. Now Heather knew he’d said no such thing and protested. It wasn’t her fault and he hadn’t told her. “Right well come on,” he urged, leaving her behind while he went to the tower letting Heather move the bits downstairs from the manacle room. Unfortunately she tried to do this wearing heels. He found her tottering slowly along the corridor, almost falling over as she changed the snaplocks and James lost his temper. Snapping at her to hurry up and get into sensible footwear. “What’s the hurry love?” Heather asked having changed into sneakers. The girl alarmed on finding out that the storm wasn’t decreasing as expected. This would be the first direct hit of a hurricane for over a century. “I’ve got a lot on my plate so don’t need to worry about you as well. There’s even talk they’re gonna start evacuating parts of the Western Isles, Oban and Ft William in the next twenty-four hours. Any low-lying coastal bits are in danger. I’ve got a whole bloody farm to sort out, plus Wally needs help. Now get moving!” he barked, slapping her backside none too gently. That was too much for her and instead of going faster Heather petulantly began to slow down. It took him a few trips to realise she was playing up despite his repeated urging, seeing her unpacking boxes rather than shifting the next lot and took action. Catching her bending down he grabbed hold of Heather’s arms and snaplocked both wrists behind her back. She screamed at him to stop but the lad threw the girl over his shoulder then carried her into the bedroom and dropped Heather on the bed, holding her one-handed as she tried to resist. Grabbing the chain from the wall with the other he wound it round the frame a few times till only a short length remained then attached it to her collar. Removing the other one off her leg as she tried to kick him. He smirked telling her to stop struggling then secured her ankles together. Leaving her lying there unable to even sit upright. “THAT’S for misbehaving! You had enough warnings. If you shut up wailing missy I might free you before I have to leave. Got it?” That did break through her rage at what he’d done and Heather just lay there sobbing as he walked out of the room. Slamming and bolting that door too. All she heard over the next hour or maybe more was him moving stuff around, up and downstairs until he returned and came in. Seeing her distraught and helpless, her eyes red with tears. She didn’t even flinch when her wrists were freed then her legs. Miss McCreadie waited till he’d put the chain onto her ankle then freed her neck and got up. Ignoring his outstretched arms offering an apologetic hug then walking past him to go and use the toilet. “OK, suit yourself lassie,” he said shortly. Heather didn’t reply and left him standing there. Coming back she made a half-hearted attempt to apologise. Stopping when James said this time he’d have to put the hatch down on her. “No,” she replied, her face paling by the second. “I’m honestly sorry for playing up, I just didn’t think. Please don’t… just lock the corridor and the front one instead. What if it floods down here? If only the first door is done then I might be able to break it down or… well…just… don’t leave me down here,” she whispered clutching his arm. But he wasn’t in the mood and refused. “Sorry but I cannot risk it Heather. The drains are perfectly adequate. Now I need to go.” Then turned and walked out without offering her a kiss. Quickly she followed, changing snaplocks but he was faster. Passing the passagway door and flinging it shut in her face. She screamed at James not to do it but the echo of the bang drowned her voice. The bolts were slid across then a key secured her inside as she continued begging him not to leave. Instead he passed through the manacle keys and told her to remove her wrist and ankle cuffs. Heather paused and he said if she didn’t hurry up then they’d remain on her limbs. Now the girl complied, unlocking each but instead of passing them one at a time she gathered the four and stuffed them through the bars together then bounced the key off his head as he’d bent down to pick them up! “You don’t care about me anymore,” she wailed as he came up, eyes blazing with anger. He couldn’t understand why she was doing this. Didn’t she realise the danger he was in? The drive back to Braemore was going to be treacherous enough and he could feel the stronger breeze even down here. “Perhaps I care too much,” he retorted and turned away. Ignoring her banging both fists on the door as again she pleaded not to be locked downstairs. Calling him a bastard and other rude names as he hurried upward trying not to cry. He couldn’t help it as her voice taunted him so he let the chain run freely instead of through his hands. Cutting off the hysterical last screams as it slammed down on the girl he still loved whatever she did or said. James cried all the way home, only the fact it was pouring with rain as he did the gate did he manage to disguise this once drying off in the kitchen. June was concerned but he fobbed her off saying one of the gates had slammed on his fingers. Showing her the marks actually caused by punching Claggans’ walls in a rage on the way out. Ordering the castle ghosts to look after his beloved Heather… or else. Chapter 2. That was the last time he’d visited and she was convinced it had been her fault after all. She spent so many hours over the next few days just sobbing, praying to the ghosts. Even they seemed to leave her alone and at one point for the first week the boxes didn’t refill themselves and Heather had to start a rationing plan. Candles too burned until she was down to the very last one. That night she went to bed and prayed that whenever he did return that she’d do anything he desired. Next morning Heather awoke, just the one candle barely alight with an inch to go, flickering in the breeze that seemed very strong considering where she was. But she could see the others had regrown and quickly she lit them, sobbing with thanks as things got brighter. Once dressed she went next door, checking the boxes and her heart surged to see they were full again! Since then she’d prayed every day for James and his family. Today Heather did the washing up then was about to head into her sitting room when a familiar sound reached her. Moments later she was delighted as the hatch chain began to run, squeaking slightly as it obviously hadn’t been oiled for ages. The girl trembled and reached for the corridor chain, almost forgetting how to clip it on her collar. “It’s been that long dammit,” she growled, her emotions all over the place but trying to put a happy face on as footsteps came slowly downstairs. Not the usual hurry however and he looked through the bars to see her standing there. “All secured?” he asked and Heather was shocked. Not even a flicker of emotion or recognition and despite this she nodded. He couldn’t still be angry after last time? The door was unlocked and bolts drawn back then he pushed it open. James walked slowly back into her life yet STILL he showed little, carrying a couple of bags of stuff to add to her supplies. He brushed past and went into the kitchen, dumping them on the table, hearing Heather’s heels clicking behind him as she followed. “James, love… is something wrong?” she asked, shuddering when he froze. The guy turning towards her then he almost seemed to collapse. She rushed forward and caught him, easing the guy over to the bench and got James sitting down. “Ouf…” he said, his breathing a little ragged and Heather’s heart gave a jump… as she’d once been that way herself. Surely he wasn’t… ill? He looked up into her beautiful face, his own trying not to show the pain, but she knew. Taking his ice-cold hands into her own. “James, is it… that?” she whispered and he nodded as she sat alongside. “Yeah,” he said, feeling her shaking as it struck home. “I got the results yesterday. Even Kelvin doesn’t know yet, nor does mum. She’s been over with Jen for a fortnight, but coming home tonight, our lassie popped out another rug-rat a week ago.” And that was a surprise, as Heather didn’t know his sister had been pregnant. Normally he kept Miss McCreadie up to date on family stuff and that surely would have been told. So how long was it since his last distressing visit? “I’m sorry it’s been so long Heather. In fact I’d better level with you right now, but we’ll do it next door in… your bedroom please,” he said, gripping tight. They went and sat down and the tale emerged. Heather McCreadie managed not to faint on finding out it was summer… the FOLLOWING year! “It’s been that long?” and he nodded. Yep, eight months actually and its now July. Going on to say that ‘up-top’ they’d just endured the worst weather for decades. “Possibly you honey, were the safest person in Scotland down here. Especially during that October hurricane.” She nodded, clutching his hands and immediately apologised for what she’d said back then. “Yeah, I must do the same for what I did to you, I kicked myself for days afterwards. Guess the ghosts gave you some grief?” She nodded wryly and their lips met for a long kiss and they both wept as the couple held each other tight. She was appalled to hear about the damage across the country. Four hundred dead, many thousands injured and property damage running into billions. “We lost the roof off the large barn and another was written off… the small one where I found you,” he said, the girl blushing on remembering that night. He did too but apart from that they were sheltered in the valley and had escaped the worst. “Poor Wally however has lost everything. Thank goodness I was able to rescue him as his place was exposed out on the hilltop. We’d moved his stock into our spare barn so the animals made it but I had to drag him away at the end, he didn’t want to leave. Just as well I did because the farmhouse… just vanished, only the floor-base remains. He’s staying with us now. Lives in Jen’s room till his insurance pays up. He was supposed to retire years ago leaving the place… to wee Martin, my mate who died in the crash in 2006? Now we’re not sure what’s gonna happen to him.” Heather sat there fiddling with her dress as the tale continued. “I’m so glad I’d altered the vent system so your air came from the new one inside the castle walls. The pipe outside would surely have been well under the umpteen-foot drifts that have blanketed the high moors. I screwed it shut or you would have had white stuff blowing out of there, coulda made a snowman on yer carpet,” he chuckled wryly knowing Heather loved snowballing. They’d had a session in Ft William with the other girls after their ’engagement walk’. “It started days after the hurricane. That’s why I didn’t come back, we were too busy with Wally and rescuing others. Even now there’s still a lot that hasn’t melted. Never seen snow lying here in July for Petes sake.” She did mention that at one time she’d needed to block the original hole up, the first time it’d seemed painfully cold blowing down despite the top being shut. Needing to wear the old dress over her normal clothing AND use all the spare blankets. James replying,“it hit –28C not ten miles from here, guess it was that night. I really panicked, worrying ‘bout you.” She tried to smile. “Thanks, sorry but I really cursed you that time. But please honey… what’s up with you now then?” He paused and she trembled as a painfully familiar story emerged. Pains, aches, tiredness coming and going after Christmas. James couldn’t afford time off the farm and dared not say anything to his folks. “Pride go’eth before the fall? Then I did big time out in the yard two months ago. Wally was there and said I just stopped, got out of the jeep and went down like a sack of feed. He thought I’d had a heart attack, think it nearly gave him one too!” he quipped, trying to cheer Heather up though he guessed she knew what was coming. “So I was carted off to Inverness. Spent a week being prodded and probed in places too uncomfortable to mention in polite company. They found nothing. Bloodwork showed zip according to them. But I wasn’t convinced. So once back at Braemore I spoke to your Dr Chalmers, you remember her love?” Heather nodded. “Yeah Lucy was… is great…and?” “She drove all the way to see me. You didn’t know she was ex MOD?” and Heather looked amazed. “Well she is, and she tested for various contaminants having remembered me… and came up trumps. Only it’s something that hasn’t been known here… since WW2. That’s why your cancer got missed. Now… it’s my turn. I’ve got the same bloody problem you had… and she’s warned me we’ve gotta keep it secret. If it gets out, then the whole of this part of Scotlands’ in deep trouble,” he said at last. Heather gasped, surely he couldn’t be serious. “It’s not infectious, but Lucy will have to answer some very awkward questions if or when it worsens. Like how she and I know each other. The fact she knew you. She’s sure MOD would find that out too easily if I went back to hospital, so…it looks like… I’m going to have… to well, leave and go die quietly somewhere instead.” Miss McCreadie burst into tears, thinking that maybe it’d been Claggan that had poisoned both of them instead of saving her. “But James… you can’t do that!” she said, gripping tight in case he left straight away. The thought he’d lock her down here permanently was too horrible to contemplate. These last eight months had been hard enough. Knowing he’d NEVER return… no chance and she waited a few minutes before speaking. Chapter 3. “Well I’ve got an idea. Daft as it sounds but I need you to think carefully before you refuse,” she said after a long thought. “It’s a multi-part thing” and she asked the following… A. Was Lucy aware Heather was still alive, had she asked James what had really happened to her? B. If not, would she believe James if he told her the truth, bringing Dr Chalmers to see for herself? C. Would she, to avoid implicating herself again… cover up James own disappearance? D. If she agreed, was James… prepared to come and live here at Claggan full time? E. Would Kelvin and June go along with this having discovered Heather was still alive? “Well you certainly have thought this out. How long?” he asked. Not surprised Heather had wondered right from day1 whether her illness had been caused by what she’d done. “Guess I’ve had time to mull it over honey,” she said and a smile touched his lips. “But it’s too late to worry about it now. I guess if I took this chain off, I’ll be dead within minutes.” she replied, touching the snaplock on her collar and for a moment James thought she’d undo it. “No!” he barked, making her jump as she hadn’t meant to get that close. He apologised, she said nothing but looked puzzled when James reached into the other bag and pulled out her wrist cuffs. Asking her to put them on and she paused, surely this was hardly the time to start playing games. “Please Heather, just do it,” he sighed unlocking them. She shrugged and applied each one, securing them then returning the keys after repeating this for her ankles. Maybe I’m going upstairs, she thought, though as James was dressed in a heavy jacket and trousers with boots too she wasn’t sure. He’d said it was summer up there… Once done he ordered her to wriggle across the bed and allow him to snaplock her down. “James love, surely this can wait…?” Heather said but was unprepared when he took her arms then started pushing the girl down. “Alright… I’ll do it. Just WAIT A MOMENT!” she snapped, for the first time in ages becoming scared of him again. Heather now shuddered as she lay back. The ‘snip’ of each one binding her to the bed was not pleasant today and she was worried at what was happening. That more so once he’d spread-eagled her, as James then produced material, swiftly hands grabbing her jaw and applying the gag, forcing it deep into her mouth, muffling squeals as Miss McCreadie naturally began begging him not to… ...

“I’m taking you out to dinner even if I have to kidnap you.” “Sana, that’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.” “Kidnapping it is then.” I just stared at my neighbor. I might have thought she’d lost her mind if Sana had acted ‘normal’ at any point since I came to this country. I was moving into my new apartment in Sapporo when the door across the hall opened. I almost dropped a heavy box on my foot at the sight of her. She was in her mid-thirties, a little older than myself, small and leggy with flawless olive toned skin. Her hair was long and wavy perfectly framing an equally perfect face. Her deep brown eyes and pert little nose complimented her full luscious lips. She was lean and athletic with perky little B cup breasts. ...

The company had been making personal robots for over twenty years, Susan had been working there for about two years ever since she graduated high school. Will had hired her and helped her learn the company so she had moved up and was now his administrative assistant who secretly loved him. Susan spent almost every night bound tightly to her bed with the large gag filling her mouth and the leather hood sealed tight around her head keeping her blind and deaf while she fantasized the large vibrating cock strapped deep in her pussy was his. When Will introduced his fiancé to her she was crushed and immediately knew she had to get rid of the woman developing a plan in her head. ...

Good evening and welcome to our little tree-house of fear, Tonight, for your entertainment and terror we bring you.. (by the way, I am now affecting my best Vincent price voice)… a tale ofAliens from far off worlds, of beautiful damsels in distress and of abduction and transformation. This tale is not intended to shock or repulse, but merely to inform and worn of the terrors that exist beyond our every day experiences. For where the tales of the T light zone (to avoid copywright issues) are pure fantasy, the tale you are about to be told is all true……. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: The Sister from Hell Later that day there was a noise from the front door, Stacy was the maid-bot assigned to answer the door. It was her older sister Elizabeth, Liz for short as she hated being called Elizabeth. She entered the house with a couple of her girlfriends, Jillian & Louisa, friends from the posh school she attended years ago, still just as snobby as Stacy remembered them being. They walked in disregarding the servant maid, noisily talking amongst themselves. ...

(story continues from The Friend) Part 2: The Friend Plays Again If my girlfriend ever found out there would be trouble. Probably some big trouble, but what can I say in my defence other than that I am weak. Her ‘friend’ joined in our games a few weeks ago, a blue-eyed curvy temptress from somewhere in the old Eastern Europe who had delighted in our games and brought to them a whole new dimension. And when my auburn-haired lady friend was away, her friend and I had started to play together. ...

When Stephanie says that her most intimate fantasy is to be milked like a cow, a way is found to make her fantasy come true. And now I was definitely wondering why I’d agreed to take part in a game of ‘Truth or Dare’ just over a week ago! Certainly if I’d known that Jo was from a farming family I wouldn’t have admitted to that fantasy, but now seemingly it was too late to go back on it, the one consolation I guessed, was that it might be fun to make that fantasy become reality………I hope! ...

Good evening and welcome to our little tree-house of fear, Tonight, for your entertainment and terror we bring you.. (by the way, I am now affecting my best Vincent price voice)… a tale of Aliens from far off worlds, of beautiful damsels in distress and of abduction and transformation. This tale is not intended to shock or repulse, but merely to inform and worn of the terrors that exist beyond our every day experiences. For where the tales of the T light zone (to avoid copywright issues) are pure fantasy, the tale you are about to be told is all true……. ...

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 part one Part 2: Mistress Four Twenty glanced behind her. Razor-clawed fingers extended from Four’s ball mittens, shredding them to pieces. The long claws glistened like crystal-cut glass. Definitely not any ordinary human. On balance, Twenty had seen things in the Hotel that made the distinction meaningless. What was human after all? Twenty estimated the distance between her and the alarm. There was no point worrying about treading on the lines now, was there? No more than five seconds if she moved quickly. ...

story continues from part two Part 3: Lauren & Nilma She opened her eyes expecting everything to be blurred, indistinct, sleep muddled. No. Everything was bitter-sweet needle-sharp. Vibrant colours and shimmering detail instantly snapped into focus. Too much detail, too much light, too many sounds. She was lying on pile of rubble, remains of broken walls around her, open sky above and a strong cold wind on her skin. She hadn’t been outside the Hotel in years. Sun, wind, sky, she’d forgotten what they looked like. Her world had been stillness, black and white, dimmed lights, sterile corridors, plastic and rubber. The outside, with its light, and its weather, and strange sounds was too much to process, so she put it aside. Putting things aside was eminently possible. ...

A few months ago, when laying in bed after I was spent by a wonderful evening of sex, my boyfriend Mike, asked me if I would like to be a living doll in a full size box like those in stories I read on a web site. “Well not exactly like those dolls but you would be in a box with clear plastic”. “Well I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it. You mean I would be tied in a box like a new doll?” ...

Sci-Fi, Machine, Female Masturbation, Unicorns, Mind Control, Spanking, Prison, Fantasy, Male-Female, Female-Female = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = PLATO cries out to Marcella and Richard for help. Only Marcella and Richard know PLATO’s true powers, but the outside world is rapidly closing in. Others have found out about the PLATO project and are trying to steal PLATO… or at least enough of him to grow their own neural network computer. ...

Marcella’s relationship with PLATO deepens. Marcella Henry has discovered that the sentient computer she watches over at night can do more than just calculations. She has also discovered that it sexually satisfies her in a way she didn’t think was possible. Is it time to take that relationship to the next level? This story stands– more or less– on its own but might make more sense if you have read the previous chapter. ...

PLATO asks Marcella to make him complete. PLATO is the most powerful computer ever… grown, but he knows that he is incomplete. He needs something else from Marcella, and once he has received it, he gives her… and Richard a gift they would never have dreamed of asking for. This story stands– more or less– on its own but might make more sense if you have read the previous chapters = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Marcella Henry was sitting at the PLATO’s night monitoring console. As usual, she was naked. Her legs were spread wide for the camera beneath her desk, and her hand was between her legs softly stroking her slit. Meanwhile, Richard – Doctor Mueller – was in the Growth Processing Room lying on one of the strange tables. At least that’s where his body was. His mind was standing in a green meadow having a complex discussion with Plato – PLATO’s anthropomorphic form which he can project into any reality created around Richard or Marcella. The discussion between Richard and Plato concerned ways of creating an Alternate Technology Organism to repair severely-damaged spinal columns without revealing that PLATO, himself, was truly sentient and growing more powerful by the day. ...

Ashley had been in college long enough and was fully ready for the real world application of her nursing and care degree. Today was her first interview with a hospital, and hopefully the only one she would need for a while. Despite being a mental ward, she met all the requirements to apply and being close to her apartment was all the bonus she needed to get over the whole mental ward dilemma. She showed up half an hour early dressed in her best professional suit, a black button down with a blue jacket and matching suit skirt. She signed in as a guest and waited to be called in by the doctor who would be interviewing her. It didn’t take long before an older man, whose hair was just starting to grey, came through the large swinging doors. He was fairly handsome which Ashley took note of immediately, appreciating the silver wolf appeal he had. He called her name and she was snapped out of her day dream and stood up. “I’m Doctor Jack Kayne” he said introducing himself with a simple smile and handshake before he led her into the hospital out of the waiting room. He shared a little small chit chat as they walked towards his office where he opened the door for her and showed her the seat across from his desk. The whole interview did not take very long and her enthusiasm to work seemed to ease along the process. The hospital was semi-desperate for new employees and he hired her on the spot. “You wouldn’t have happened to bring a set of scrubs with you, I’d like to give you a tour and get a better understanding of your hands on skills” he asked at the end of the interview. Ashley stuttered and responded “I.. I didn’t know I was supposed to bring a pair.” He calmly put his hands up and said “It’s okay, it wasn’t on the required list of things to bring, I’m sort of flying by the seat of my pants right now with how hectic the hospital is. Normally it would take several weeks to have all of the clearances put through but if I can see first-hand your skill in patient handling I can sign a release to expedite the process and seeing how the ward is short staffed I would like to make this as fast as possible.” With that he pressed a com button on his phone and asked another nurse to bring in a spare set of scrubs. A few minutes later after a little more chit chat, another female nurse came in carrying a sealed package and said, “Sorry but we are out of spare nurses’ scrubs due to a backorder issue but we do have plenty of the white patient outfits.” With that the doctor dismissed her and stood up, “I’ll let you change in here and then we’ll get started on the tour.” Ashley cursed her luck as she looked at herself in the mirror. She had purposely worn dark clothing to cover up her under-layers. To boost her confidence, she had worn a bright pink, sexy lingerie set. The full works, a lacy pink bra to support her D cup chest, pink boy short panties that made her ass curve so perfect, even a garter belt to hold up her black panty hose. It all bled through the white scrubs plain as day. She tied her hair up into a ponytail as she looked at herself in the full length mirror in the corner of his office. She huffed a little then accepted her fate of showing off her underwear and poked her head out of the office door to see the doctor. He blushed a little when she fully revealed herself then coughed to clear his throat with. “Let’s begin then.” They quickly covered the different wings of the hospital. Recovery from addiction, mentally ill patients, a high risk ward, and long term treatment. “For the most part the orderlies are these robotic servants but it still requires nurses to do check-ups and physical evaluations and since these bots are still in their testing phase we still have to maintain staff to make sure they’re functioning properly” the doctor said as they passed a booth with two humanoid robots. Instead of legs the robots had a base similar to a cabinet with wheels supporting the “torso” which had several arms and a head, Ashley imagined was full of cameras and sensors. “They’re pretty much harmless as long as you have a badge or doctor nearby but they are quite efficient at subduing patients should things escalate and are fully equipped, they won’t ever replace humans and in most cases are only used in the more severe wards. They mostly retrieve what is needed from the storage area currently but they have a very sophisticated program that I don’t even fully understand yet.” He explained as they continued to walk. The doctor was showing her the equipment and storage room when his buzzer went off. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m needed in the long term ward. You can wait in here and explore a bit, I shouldn’t be long” he said before stepping out of the equipment room. She took his advice and started to explore the storage area. She was well adept with the “medical equipment” section, just getting done with school, however she was not as well versed in the “restraints” department. She wandered over to the aisle then began her investigation of arguably the largest section of the storage room. She didn’t know there were so many different varieties of restraints, some she would not want to experience first-hand. Quite a few things caught her interest as she wandered up and down the aisle, padded cuffs, large mitts to prevent self harm, straitjackets and arm binders in a slurry of sizes and varieties. A lot of the stuff looked like bondage equipment from her favorite pornos adapted for medical treatment. Her interest was ultimately peaked when she found a variety of ball gags. They were in red, blue, and purple colorations. ”Maybe they should order more uniforms and less gags” she whispered to herself as she looked at the overstock of purple gags. She picked up one of the purple gags and her pure interest made her strip it from the hermetically sealed packaging. She had always been intrigued by bondage but had never been this close to the actual artefact. She shivered a little as she opened her mouth to accept the ball. It was stiff rubber and as it slipped in behind her teeth she couldn’t help but bite down and test the strength. Her hands moved on their own as she held the gag in place, the ends of the straps met and she slowly began to tighten the gag in place. She wasn’t paying attention to the gag as she pulled the straps together tight and felt the hugging embrace of the gag on her cheeks. Mere seconds later she heard the sound of the door to the storage room swing open. She panicked and ducked down to the side as she reached up to undo the gag. Had she been listening as she tightened the gag, she would have heard the distinct sound of the locking mechanism, much like a zip tie, trapping the gag in her mouth. She panicked even more as she heard the sound of an electronic drive and rubber wheels on concrete rolling her way while she fidgeted and struggled to get the gag out of her mouth. As it rounded the corner it “saw her”, crouched on the floor pulling at the gag. Both parties froze, Ashley slowly turned and looked towards the robot as it began to run programs to assess the situation. It analyzed the garments and now the gag in her mouth, it did not register a nurse or doctor’s badge in the vicinity and Ashley did not have a patient band around her wrist. Ashley tried to put her hands up and mime to it that it was a misunderstanding as it started to charge towards her. To it, she looked like a patient in her white uniform and ball gag trying to escape. Within seconds, the large machine was on top of her, quickly it latched onto her wrists and pulled her arms out to the sides to keep her from struggling. She moaned and groaned and tried to explain through the gag that this was a misunderstanding. The machine registered her mouth movements and vocalizing as its software assessed the situation further. ...

(story continues from The Family Maid) Part 2: The Sister from Hell Later that day there was a noise from the front door, Stacy was the maid-bot assigned to answer the door. It was her older sister Elizabeth, Liz for short as she hated being called Elizabeth. She entered the house with a couple of her girlfriends, Jillian & Louisa, friends from the posh school she attended years ago, still just as snobby as Stacy remembered them being. They walked in disregarding the servant maid, noisily talking amongst themselves. ...

(story continues from The Process 5.2: More Family Members) This story contains elements of an adult nature. If you are not 18 or stumbled upon this by accident, please move along as there is nothing to see here. Those that are of age, please enjoy. Story contains Magic, Body mod, BE, Penis growth, Living Latex doll, Maid, BDSM, Multiple gender roles story continues from part 6 The Process: Part 6.1: Invitation Chapter 5 ...