My usual deliveries are garages, service stations, factories, transport yards, not plush mansions in the leafy suburbs. I deliver oil and grease, for cars, machinery, trucks, excavators. That has nothing to do with the story other than, I pressed the button on the intercom and waited for a reply. High brick fences, covered the front of the huge block. Topped with ivy and studded with cameras and sensors, the wall prevented any good view of the house within. ...
story continued from part one Part Two “Good! Very good, sir!… I’ll let you out now.” “…what would’ve happened if I didn’t agree?!” I exclaimed. “…well! I’d’ve drugged you again; probably with some hallucinogens, and had some friends place you back in your van in a remote spot, for you to wake up; probably late for work on Monday, wondering if this was real or just a dream.” “Oh… I’m glad I agreed. I hate being late for werk!” I chuckled. I could feel the vacuum rack loosening about me. ...
Another day another denial for me not for her. It all started about 9 months ago When I got a piercing (PA) and a chastity tube because I thought I wanted her in control of my sex and my masturbation. If I knew then what I know now would I do it again, read on and you tell me what you would have done. A special evening is ahead of us its our anniversary, 6 years of marriage a new record for me. The gift is one she would never suspect I have had the chastity tube and piercing for some time now, she knew of the piercing and was none too happy about it. The tube she never even guessed. Her present a new gold necklace holding the key to my chastity, after dinner I will give it to her. I have been practicing wearing the tube for a week now just to get used to it in case she decides to leave it on when she gets her present. ...
story continues from part 6 Chapter 7 Hazel shielded her eyes against the wind and gazed out to sea. Despite the wintry sunlight, the wave-lashed Dorset coast, from high above on the cliffs, cut a depressing sight at this time of year. Away to the left, the headland of Hengistbury Head seemed to stand out defiantly and resolutely against the perpetual wrath of the breakers. And closer to her vantage point, the twin fingers of Boscombe pier and, almost directly below her, Bournemouth pier, stretched like clawing fingers out into the choppy grey waters of the English Channel. The beach and promenade, so crowded with bustling holidaymakers during the summer months, was virtually deserted now, with just the occasional jogger, dog walker or fresh air enthusiast braving the near Arctic temperatures. But that suited Hazel fine just now. ...
(story continues from The Consultants 3.11) Part 3: Chapter 12 It was the weekend again. Leslie, Amber and Charles were sitting in the Dungeon. Leslie in her leather dominatrix gear on her throne. Amber was dressed in a hooded red latex catsuit, with built in ballet-toed boots and arms ending in attached stiffened fingerless bondage mittens that prevented her taking the suit off without outside assistance. She had curled up in a chair, the seat of which was covered with a spiky black rubber cushion that resembled nothing so much as an oversize hedgehog. When Charles asked, she claimed that it was very comfortable. Nevertheless he could not help wondering what happened if you sat on one of the spikes. ...