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Its waist tapered into an hourglass, flaring into wide, childbearing hips and thick, muscular thighs that ended in the mass of tentacles that imprison...d him. Why did it look like that?Its lower pair of arms extended towards him, these ended in clawed hands with opposable thumbs. They reached down, dragging across his chest, not enough to break through the fabric and cut his skin, but just enough to tear his clothing, leaving his naked torso exposed. It leaned down, its warm breath tickling his. He might not make it.”I sort of melted, sagging against the cubicle wall. “Oh, no.” If Rachel was funny and the life of any meeting, Bob was her counterpart, a cheerful man who drove a big blue Chrysler from the middle twentieth with a rumbling engine and had tail fins to the sky. l kept thinking of all the times he'd taken us for rides in the country in his shiny, vintage toy. They had three kids and five grandchildren who now faced the possibility they'd never see their grandfather again. Bob. But they're denied by the metal frame and chains keeping me exposed for my Mistress. The flogger lands again, right across my breasts, and the world went white. My vision lost behind a flash of pure agony that washes everything else away for a moment. I can't hear over the rushing blood hammering in my ears. The flogger lands again, again the steady rhythm, no longer able to add any more pain, but keeping me at that pinnacle. It stops, I'm not even sure when exactly, but I suddenly realized. .. I need your cock—your keys. Your car keys." GET A FUCKING GRIP, RUTHERFORD! I can feel the heat of my blush like my cheeks are on fire.He chuckles quietly, "Really, don't worry about it."I hear him stand up, and then there is some rustling. I know I should leave, but my feet won't move. I'm just rooted there, in the dark hallway listening to a naked male model get dressed behind me.After a few seconds, he says, "You can turn around. I'm safe."I take a deep breath and turn around, and my.
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