Monday, June 13, 2011

All the pieces in their places

 ** A quiet interlude before things heat up again**

Rena's were not the only busy fingers. Outside, in the storm, Jez had forgotten all about the “Retreat Master”. She was so engrossed in the unfolding story that when her hand made its way down to her slit, she could not help but try and fill the need she found there.

Between the storm and her distraction, she had no chance to escape the man who was sneaking up on her. When the bag was thrown over her head, she was three fingers deep and headed toward heaven.

In the West Wing
Melissa slept through the storm like a child. Looking over her slack, innocent face the Retreat Master knew-- this would be her last night of innocence.

In The Slave Quarters
Jez woke up with a start. Where was she? Why was she naked? Was she hanging above the ground? Indeed, when her full senses came to her she found herself hanging, naked, sitting on a kind of leather swing. Restraints held her both hand and foot.

Help! Someone!” She yelled but she knew it was useless. She wasn't even sure she was at the estate anymore. The sun was up, but it did very little to brighten the room. How long had she been here?

Someone was there. She heard the shuffle of feet behind her. She tried her best to look over her shoulder to see who it was, but to no avail. “Let me go! I demand that you let me go. You will not believe the level of shit that will rain down upon you if you do not release me right now.” 
No, no, no. I'm in control now. All you can do is sit back and let it happen. Submit to my will. Give yourself to me.” The voice sounded familiar, but the words were so foreign that Jez couldn't place it. 
When I found you, you were being very naughty. Watching those nice people fuck one another. Touching yourself as you watched. You'll have to be punished for that.”

The Gift
Despite a bit too much wine, Melissa woke without an alarm clock at eight thirty as she had most of her life. For a moment, she looked around, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. 
Her adventure rushed back to her. She was at Summerland Estate at a writer's retreat. With Professor Macmillan. She had watched a bondage porn tape. She'd never even seen a regular porn tape before, much less one where people tied each other up and did...things. 
She hopped out of bed and was stopped cold by a box sitting on her dresser. She'd had way too much wine last night, but she didn't remember seeing the lavishly wrapped present. She couldn't resist it. She grabbed it jumped back on the bed and began carefully untying the big pink bow.

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