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Authors: Lisette Ashton
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dominatrix in the doorway. And when she remembered his question (‘What could anyone possibly do tonight that would make them stand out more than your pumped-up pussy?’) she realised she only needed to nod in Joanne’s direction to provide an answer.
Adopting her most diplomatic smile, reminding herself the party was for everyone’s pleasure and not just to show off her own attributes as a hostess, Linda greeted Joanne with a warm kiss and asked Phil to show her round the house. She struggled to hide her disappointment when Joanne and her gimp stepped quietly past her. Wearing her most tactful expression she asked, ‘Are Charlie and Rhona coming?’
Ted shrugged. ‘They said they’d be here tonight. Ronnie mentioned something about trying to get her hands on the McMurray girl, and we all know they’ve both got designs on her, but I can’t imagine that would be happening tonight.’
Linda sucked her teeth. ‘I hope you’re wrong. I don’t think it would be wise for them to do anything with Megan McMurray.’
‘Why?’
‘The McMurray girl?’ She shook her head, suddenly solemn. The thrill of her stretched pussy lips and the nuisance of Joanne’s appearance were forgotten. ‘Megan McMurray is a tempting package. But she’s tied to some pretty serious baggage.’ Instinctively her gaze went to the side of the house adjacent to number four . She believed, for an instant, she could see through the walls and glimpse the dark and sinister figure that resided there. ‘The McMurray girl is tied to some very serious baggage,’ she repeated. ‘I wouldn’t want to see Ronnie or Charlie get on the wrong side of Mr McMurray.’
Six
4 Cedar View
‘YOU’RE BAGGAGE,’ HE declared.
The cellar was lit only by a scarlet bulb. The glow turned pale flesh bloody, and darkened the darkest recesses. The room should have been spacious but the lack of light made it claustrophobic, gloomy and foreboding. Strengthening beams had lowered the ceiling. Thick chains dangled from them like remnants of the world’s largest cobweb.
Caught in the spider web of chains was a near-naked woman. Her hands were tied behind her back, secured by leather cuffs. Her legs were bound at the ankles by thick black straps. Loops of leather, taut around her chest, made her modest breasts bulge in an explosion of trapped flesh. A tight-fitting mask hid the upper half of her face, while the lower half was distorted beyond recognition by a ball-gag that stretched her mouth open in a silent scream. A leather thong exposed her backside but kept her sex a thinly veiled secret. Chains beneath her shoulders and hips suspended her above the floor.
Max studied her without speaking. His brow was wrinkled by a solemn frown. The cane in his hand twitched as though he longed to use it but hadn’t yet decided how. He was tall, broad and powerfully commanding ; his shaved head almost touched the lowest of the beams. Black tattoos, in Celtic and tribal designs, covered his muscular biceps. His jeans were tight and faded. His crisp white wife-beater, bloody in the crimson light, was stretched across a broad and manly chest.
He stood motionless, admiring her and her initiative at having prepared herself in this way for his return home. He doubted there were many wives so thoughtful as to make themselves available to their husbands in such a unique and exciting way.
But something was amiss. He had been about to regale Megan with a litany of her favourite insults, the words that always made her nipples stiffen and her pussy moist and her body hot and receptive for him. The familiar opening phrase in this game, telling her she was baggage, was usually enough to make her moan. But this evening Megan remained silent. Not that she could moan properly with the gag in her mouth, admittedly. But she usually let out a muffled sigh to indicate that they were operating on the same wavelength and playing the same game.
They had devised it together. He began by calling
Adopting her most diplomatic smile, reminding herself the party was for everyone’s pleasure and not just to show off her own attributes as a hostess, Linda greeted Joanne with a warm kiss and asked Phil to show her round the house. She struggled to hide her disappointment when Joanne and her gimp stepped quietly past her. Wearing her most tactful expression she asked, ‘Are Charlie and Rhona coming?’
Ted shrugged. ‘They said they’d be here tonight. Ronnie mentioned something about trying to get her hands on the McMurray girl, and we all know they’ve both got designs on her, but I can’t imagine that would be happening tonight.’
Linda sucked her teeth. ‘I hope you’re wrong. I don’t think it would be wise for them to do anything with Megan McMurray.’
‘Why?’
‘The McMurray girl?’ She shook her head, suddenly solemn. The thrill of her stretched pussy lips and the nuisance of Joanne’s appearance were forgotten. ‘Megan McMurray is a tempting package. But she’s tied to some pretty serious baggage.’ Instinctively her gaze went to the side of the house adjacent to number four . She believed, for an instant, she could see through the walls and glimpse the dark and sinister figure that resided there. ‘The McMurray girl is tied to some very serious baggage,’ she repeated. ‘I wouldn’t want to see Ronnie or Charlie get on the wrong side of Mr McMurray.’
Six
4 Cedar View
‘YOU’RE BAGGAGE,’ HE declared.
The cellar was lit only by a scarlet bulb. The glow turned pale flesh bloody, and darkened the darkest recesses. The room should have been spacious but the lack of light made it claustrophobic, gloomy and foreboding. Strengthening beams had lowered the ceiling. Thick chains dangled from them like remnants of the world’s largest cobweb.
Caught in the spider web of chains was a near-naked woman. Her hands were tied behind her back, secured by leather cuffs. Her legs were bound at the ankles by thick black straps. Loops of leather, taut around her chest, made her modest breasts bulge in an explosion of trapped flesh. A tight-fitting mask hid the upper half of her face, while the lower half was distorted beyond recognition by a ball-gag that stretched her mouth open in a silent scream. A leather thong exposed her backside but kept her sex a thinly veiled secret. Chains beneath her shoulders and hips suspended her above the floor.
Max studied her without speaking. His brow was wrinkled by a solemn frown. The cane in his hand twitched as though he longed to use it but hadn’t yet decided how. He was tall, broad and powerfully commanding ; his shaved head almost touched the lowest of the beams. Black tattoos, in Celtic and tribal designs, covered his muscular biceps. His jeans were tight and faded. His crisp white wife-beater, bloody in the crimson light, was stretched across a broad and manly chest.
He stood motionless, admiring her and her initiative at having prepared herself in this way for his return home. He doubted there were many wives so thoughtful as to make themselves available to their husbands in such a unique and exciting way.
But something was amiss. He had been about to regale Megan with a litany of her favourite insults, the words that always made her nipples stiffen and her pussy moist and her body hot and receptive for him. The familiar opening phrase in this game, telling her she was baggage, was usually enough to make her moan. But this evening Megan remained silent. Not that she could moan properly with the gag in her mouth, admittedly. But she usually let out a muffled sigh to indicate that they were operating on the same wavelength and playing the same game.
They had devised it together. He began by calling
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