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"Fun and Games", by The Scribbler, (c) 2001
who is reminded by recent events that heterodoxy, tolerance, and the
right to a private life are not trivial, not free of cost, and not
universally prized.
"Oh, did I mention that we're expecting company?"

"Mmm-hmmm", judging by your tone of voice, a non-committal response.
I could be wrong about this, because "non-committal" isn't a big
character trait for you, now is it? No, Sally G----- you're known as
an outspoken advocate of women's rights, recycling, solar power, term
limits, anti-sprawl legislation; that's is when you're not jetting
around the world as a very blue-blooded management consultant. And
waffling, evasion, or lack of opinion are not traits of yours.

But as I say, it's not completely clear that I've properly understood
you, and when I describe the extenuating circumstances for your lack
of articulation, I think we'll all understand that I might get some
of your verbally expressed desires a little bit wrong.

You see, there's a nice sized ball gag in your mouth, stretching your
jaws wide open. Can I go off on a tangent here and say just how good
ball-gags look on you? I'm a big fan of them, but there's really a
procedure that's required. If you're going to be obedient, then I'm
going to say that we should have lots of red lipstick on you
first. . .its deliciously slutty as your mouth is stretched wide to
accommodate the intruder-although if the whole thing is going to be a
struggle, which it sometimes is, then the lipstick just makes a mess.

In your case, you're remarkably cooperative, seeming to thrive on
humiliation and pain. Tears ran down your cheeks as I tweaked your
nipples to full erection, but I checked and found that either the
tears had run all the way down to your legs, or you were very, very
wet. You've gotten to be such a little painslut that I don't even
bother to check in your cunt anymore-as near as I can make out, its
pretty much always wet, now isn't it?

So I've gone to a slightly more extreme measures. . .I just run a
finger down the inside of your thighs. . .when you're truly excited,
juices tend to drip all the way down.

And you are excited right now. You moaned and yelped a bit when I
attached the clamps to you, and whimpered in humiliation as I lead
you teetering on very high heels to the mirror to regard the lovely
vision you'd become; clothespins on your labia, clamps on your
nipples, a lovely horsetail plug stretching your anus.

"Company" - your eyes opened wide at that thought. "My friends will
know, people will see, someone will recognize me. . ." I could see
that thought cross your face.

No one will recognize you. I can give you assurances that that is the
case; your friends, my friends, business associates and neighbors-no
one will recognize the slut in latex with cutouts for her vulva,
buttocks and breasts, clamps on her nipples and a blindfold as the
lovely frosty blonde management consultant who I've been
seeing. . .no you're just another slut, anonymous and degraded, and
people you've shared cocktails and light conversation about interest
rates, modern art, politics and Andrea Dworkin will feel absolutely
no compunction in giving your clamps a little twist to see you squirm.

You're really too clumsy in your hobbles to do any serving, so we
just lay you down on the table after a while. A very sweet looking
little brunette decides to appropriate one of the decorative candles
and ends up dripping hot wax over your breasts and labia. A number of
people comment on just how nice it is to watch you squirm.

As the guests get ready to depart Roger Beltran, an old friend, one
who'd shared drinks with us not a fortnight ago, takes me by the
arm "Does Sally know anything about this"

I shake my head, "Not a thing, wouldn't approve at all"

He looks at me for a moment "You know, there's been something I've
been meaning to say to you: Why do you go out with such a cold woman?"

I look back at him. I try to look hurt.

"Roger, you know that's a little bit unfair. You can't judge people
that way, they've got aspects to them that sometimes don't get
appreciated. I've got a serious side to me you know. . . Sally may be
a little chilly emotionally, but she's a brilliant and succesful

I need that in my life: I'm not all fun and games."


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