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Chapter 9
by adat
What does mary do now?
She tries to cut the dress off
"WHAT IS THIS" Mary yelled. "DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TEACHING ME A LESSON! I AM NOT A SLUT! I am not a toy..." To Mary, her own denials were sounding less like statements and more like she was trying to convince herself. Either way, the dress punished her again. This time it pinched her nipples and spanked her rythmically. She wasn't restrained this time, but her hips jerked forward with each swat that was administered to her shapely ass, so she had a hard time walking. Eventually her dress decided she'd had enough, and left her with a sore ass and throbbing nipples.
Mary stalked her way to the kitchen, fuming. She pulled open a drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. She took the dress in one hand and started to cut with the other. But the scissors wouldn't close. The supple leather gave a little, but when she took the scissors away, the dress wasn't even marked. She dropped the scissors, defeated, and cradled her pretty face with her gloved hands. She imagined the rest of her life, stuck in the dress. Subject at any time to the sexual whims of an unknown entity. Plus, her feet were already aching from just one day of wearing the heels...
Her fingers twitched. As she watched, her hand flexed several times, without any input from her. The glove was controlling her hand. The glove jerked her hand over to the counter, where it began tapping her fingers on the counter. It seemed to be getting used to controlling her. Mary didn't try to resist. Her nipples were still throbbing from the last punishment. Being a business woman, Mary ate out a lot, and consequently there was some dust on the counter. Her controlled hand began tracing a word in the dust. She leaned closer to watch.
G-U-I-L-T-Y
Her hand fell against her, under her control again. "Guilty!" Mary exclaimed, rubbing her hand. "It must mean the money. But who could know? If I can figure that out, that person will probably know how to get this damned thing off me" she said, tugging the dress in disgust. Deep in thought, Mary didn't notice her hand being overridden again.
Idle hands are the Devil's Playground. What's the first game?
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De Sade's Designs
A greedy woman gets her just desserts.
A greedy woman gets her just desserts...
Created on Feb 28, 2007 by adat
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