.. or the sun behind her might have been giving her a halo. After catching eyes, a few words exchanged and a quick assessment I realised I’d need to...fiddle with the wiring under her desk. Usually I don’t hesitate to ask someone to move but I found myself with my hand on her delicate shoulder, just gesturing under her desk. I must’ve looked a fool but words just weren’t coming to my lips. She pushed her chair back to allow me to get through but honestly, she could’ve quite easily moved to. But I’m what I like to label sexually liberated. I’m not above a booty call, or any other kind of mutually enjoyable activity among consenting adults. Hey, why spend the night alone if you know somebody who wants it as bad as you do? I suppose that there are plenty of people who would say this does make me a slut, and to them I would say- absolutely nothing. I don’t give a damn what they think, and don’t give it a second thought. Except of course when that self doubt kicks in and you wonder if. The pain in my back was worse than I remember it. The pain in my chest was worse than I remembered it. I thought it must be the extra distention of my wrists being pulled slightly behind me from the positioning of the patibulum. It was humiliating as well, for my chest and breasts were jutting out unnaturally. As I moaned and grunted with effort to raise myself again, I became aware of club members gathering around the foot of the cross. They were observing me carefully, and commenting on the. ’ ‘Shit, Stace!’ The angry woman’s hand stopped. She took a long breath deep into her lungs and let it out in a slow exhalation. Her voice lost its edge in the process. ‘No, thanks, Stacy. I’d feel better if we were home, you know? But thanks anyway.’ ”Kay, all y’all . . . need . . . any, thing?’ Her throat tightened. ‘No, just give us a minute, okay, Stace?’ Shelly resumed the caresses. ‘Okay. Ah’ll be in the bathroom.’ Stacy moved in silent grace and the door latched with a muffled click. If.
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