Two slotted posts with planks between them, each cut out in a half circles big enough for the prisoner’s neck and wrists. Currently, it was empty. �...�It’s perfect. Custom made for whores, kitty.” Laura’s voice was cruel, her grip on my hair even crueler as she unhooked the leash from my collar and forced me to bend over until my neck was resting in the center cut out. I felt a stab of panic, struggling uselessly as the reality of my situation set in. Locked in place, my ass and cunt available for. A little tame. Part of my recovery from almost being gang-raped and being saved by Con had been admitting that I was a bit of an adrenaline junkie. If a story didn't include the possibility of violence and death, it seemed a little meek and boring to me.An hour flashed by and the story was as good as it was getting. An e-mail was zipped off to my editor and then the shower beckoned. It seemed as if the water washed away my London self, leaving the girl who grew up in Aurora and got her first. "My back went out, Dear. If I move, it hurts." Well, why do you look like that?" I assumed she meant sweaty and red-faced. She had stopped crying."I've been out here for a couple of hours. I think I might be getting heat stroke." Oh my God!" she sobbed, covering her face, and it seemed like she might start crying again."Angela, it'll be all right. Just stay calm." Just then I noticed for the first time that because of the way she had crouched next to my shoulder, her short, white tennis skirt. Jane touched Paula’s breast, through the cloth. She immediately recalled how Walt used to fondle her, it seemed like that was a million years ago. She moved her hand down to Paula’s belly, which was gently rising and falling with her breath. Jane felt intensely alive. She moved her hand further downward, between Paula’s legs, and then rested her hand on Paula’s crotch and fell back to sleep. When Jane awoke Paula and the baby were gone. She found them in the kitchen. Paula was at the sink..
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I always wondered if it had been more. The funny thing was that it had turned me on when she told me, and years later I can still recount the story so
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