Mistaken Identity
by Jubal Jackson

Clara hated this city. It was small, it always rained, and the food was just awful. But the things that she really hated were the incompetent morons who ran this city's branch of Calicent, one the world's leading business-to-business sales companies. Numbers were seriously down and Clara had been dispatched to sort things out. Clara was a very attractive blonde in a tight-fitting pencil skirt. A tight-fitting blouse covered her torso and a bright red jacket finished her outfit. Her toned legs were enhanced by her high-heeled shoes.

'What a bunch of idiots,' Clara thought to herself as she strode out into the street.

A light rain had begun to fall and as usual taxis were nowhere to be seen. She had managed to finish the last meeting early and planned to grab a taxi straight to the airport. In a few hours she could fly from this God-forsaken country. Even though the rain was light it was already soaking through to her blouse. She looked up at the steel grey sky, there was no sign the rain was going to clear anytime soon.

“Typical,” she snorted to herself.

'Will I wait inside for a taxi?' she thought to herself, 'No, take too long. There's a taxi rank on the other side of the campus. I'll can take a shortcut through the neighbouring business's underground car park.'

She had taken this shortcut last year during a particular savage rainstorm. It had an entrance on the far side of the building and an exit this side. The underground car park may have been dark, creepy and isolated but it was dry. Clara ran as fast as she could in her heels and ducked under the barrier.

In the distance she could clearly see the other side, light pouring in to the darkness from outside. The interior of the underground car park was, however, very dim, barely lit by weak fluorescent lights. Clara nervously gazed left, then right. The place seemed deserted. She focused on the other side and walked quickly across. “Come on, Clara, don't be silly.” she encouraged herself.

As if in answer a engine suddenly came to life and the lights of a large van came on. Clara looked over her shoulder as it reversed and drove towards her. 'Phew, thank God someone else is in here. Got to lay off watching horror movies,' she thought.

BEEP BEEP.

The van was almost beside her when the van's horn went off. The sudden noise made Clara jump. She glanced at the driver, who was a pretty brunette in her mid to late twenties. The driver waved at Clara.

'Who the fuck is that,' Clara asked herself.

Clara was raising her hand to wave back at the driver when the side door of the van slid opened suddenly. Two sets of powerful, gloved hands sprang out of the dark interior of the van and grabbed Clara firmly. Things happened so fast her mind had no time to register what was going on. One set of hands grabbed her wrists while the other firmly gripped her waist. In a split second she was lifted from the ground and pulled into the dark interior of the van. This happened so fast that the only sound Clara could utter was a single, weak 'eeeppppp.'

The door of the van slammed shut and the van drove slowly out of the car park.

Clara quickly regained her composure. One of her attackers held her by the wrists while the other held her down on the floor of the van. Both men (she assumed they were men from their strength and size) wore black jackets, slacks, boots, gloves and balaclavas. They were like something from a nightmare. Clara bucked and kicked her legs struggling for all she was worth. Her heel connected sharply with one of her captor's thighs.

“OWWWW, Jesus, calm down!” he cried.

“Fuck you, uhhhh, what do you want.”

“OK, you asked for it.” the other captor exclaimed.

He grabbed her upper thighs under his arm and held her down with his free arm. Clara bucked and ground in frustration. Her tight, pencil skirt had begun to climb up to her upper thighs, revealing her lower butt cheeks.

“Jesus she's strong, hurry up, cuff her,” her captor barked at his accomplice.

Clara gritted her teeth while the other man cuffed her wrist into a wide, leather cuff. In unison the two men spun Clara on her belly and despite her strongest efforts her other wrist was buckled into the leather cuff. A short metal chain linked both cuffs. Clara kicked and bucked, her feet driving into the floor of the van, her heels hitting her captor on the back. She grunted through her gritted teeth as she fought.

“Quickly, cuff her ankles, she's knocking the crap out of me,” the captor complained to his accomplice.

“Let....me....goooo.” Clara growled at the man.

One ankle then the other were secured in the leather cuffs. Clara rolled on the ground bucking like a bronco attempting to kick her assailants. Clara's temper was notorious with her colleagues at work. Her face flushed red and she literally growled like a dog.

“Jesus, she's quite a handful.” one of the men said as he dodged Clara's vicious kicks. "Come on, lets get her secure, quickly!” The other man produced a rope.

In a precise manner one man held her ankles while his friend tied them to her wrists. Clara's kicking was almost totally subdued in the hogtie.

“FUUHUUUCCKK, you ASSHOLES, “ Clara wailed in frustration.

“Too loud. We have neighbours.” one man quipped as he pulled a large, round sponge from a plastic zip-bag.

He held Clara's head, waited for her to shout and then shoved the sponge home behind her teeth.

“FUUUUHHHHHHPPPPPP, MMMMPPPPHHH!” her curse was stifled by the large sponge. It filled her mouth, pinning her tongue.

“Ahhh, Jesus! She bit me.” the gagger cried as Clara bit down on his fingers. She would of done more damage only the sponge didn't allow her to bite down all the way. He fell back away from Clara holding his bitten fingers, staring in fright at the bound Clara. Clara stared at him in anger.

“Jezzz, you hurt me,” he complained.

“GUUUHHHHDDDD, OUUU ASSSOOLLLEE!” Clara angrily replied.

She had begun to force the sponge from her mouth with her tongue when the other captor foiled her attempt, securing the sponged with a length of black Lycra. He tied it tightly off at the back of her head. Clara growled and shook her head in frustration. There was no way she could free herself from the leather cuffs and the sponge gag silenced her screams. Clara glared at the two men, her eyes filled with contempt.

“OOAAATT OOUU OOUUU AANNTT???” she asked.

“What do we want? “ the man replied, “ransom, your rich husband will pay a lot for you.”

“Your husband better pay for my hospital bill ,I think you broke my fingers.” the other man complained.

“Quiet, you'll ruin it,” the other man whispered angrily.

“We're going to take you to our hideout. Hold you there until your husband pays your ransom and then you can go home safely.”

'Husband,' Clara thought to herself, 'I'm not married!'

“AAHH EEAAVEE OOOO OOSAANND, EEAAH EAAVVE OO OOUSAAND!”

Clara tried to explain but the sponge turned her words into mush. Who was going to pay her ransom? She had no husband or boyfriend or even friends. She hadn't even a dog. Her whole life was dedicated for work. Her co-workers hated her.

“Try and relax until we get to the hideout,” the man whose fingers she hadn't bitten said.

“And no biting or kicking,” the other snapped. “Shush.”

“FUUUHHHHPPPPP, FUUHUUUCCKK, OONGGHHH UUHHRRRSSOON.” Clara shouted as loud as she could through the sponge which in the end wasn't very loud.

The van drove down onto the slip road, onto the highway and traveled to its destination. It looked no different to any other van on the highway. Clara rocked back and forth in the van testing the strength of the chains that held her in bondage. She grunted, growled and cursed through her gag. Finally after twenty minutes of furious struggling she gave up. The two men sat staring at her. The man whose finger's she bit seemed a bit upset.

“Almost there, just relax, love,” the man that seemed to be the leader said.

Clara closed her eyes and rested her head on the floor of the van. It was only now that she realized that the floor of the van was covered with a soft carpet. She glanced around and noticed that the walls were padded. Was the van designed with kidnap in mind, she wondered, and why should they care so much about their prey's comfort?

The van pulled off the highway onto a slip road and then entered an old business park. It slowly would it's way through the park until it came to a small warehouse set all on it's own.

“UMMMPHHH?” Clara felt the van slow down and stop.

“No worries, we are here at the hideout.” the leader answered her.

The van reversed to a wide loading bay. The metal door slowly raised by remote control and once fully up the van rolled in . The engine died and the door lowered, hiding the interior from the outside world.

The two men jumped up and slid the door open. Light from outside spilled into the van.

“Here we are, home sweet home,” the lead man called.

“MMPPPHH UUUUHH,” Clara rolled and wriggled, straining to catch a glimpse of her new surroundings. As the two men walked off she wriggled to the edge of the door and hung her head out, glimpsing left and right.

The van was in the loading bay of a small warehouse. The warehouse was empty apart from the van and what seemed to be a crude set. Someone had erected three plywood 'walls' and crudely painted them to look like red brick. A small cut window in the back revealed a crude, painted cityscape. A mattress was placed in the corner. In front of the set was a camera.

'What kind of kidnappers are these?' Clara wondered.

Clara had no time to answer her question when the two men came back. Behind them was a woman also with a balaclava hiding her face. “Put her on the mattress,” she ordered the two men.

The two men grabbed her on either side, lifted Clara and carried her quickly to the mattress in the corner of the set. Clara decided struggling now would be a mistake, falling from the men's hands to the floor would hurt. Gently the men lowered Clara slowly onto the soft mattress. The masked woman stepped forward and stared theatrically at Clara.

“You relax there, Ruth. We'll ring your husband and arrange the ransom. He'd better pay.”

“UTH? OU EH UCK ES UUUTH?” Clara garbled through the sponge. They had taken the wrong woman!

Clara bucked and strained the cuffs that restrained her ankles and wrists. She tossed her head right and left trying to dislodge the gag.

“No use struggling Ruth, you're totally helpless,” the woman spun around, issued a fake laugh and walked away. The two men followed her. Clara was left in the room by herself.

'Those assholes kidnapped the wrong person,' Clara thought, 'I got to get out of here.'

Clara was a regular gym bunny, her body toned and flexible. She arched her back and brought her hands as far as she could and gripped the cuffs around her ankles. She snorted breaths through her nose, counted to three in her mind and straightened her body as much as she could, hoping to snap one of her bonds through sheer strength.

“GRUUUMMMMPPHHH!”

The force of her body suddenly straightening pulled savagely at the cuffs around her ankles and wrists. Her shoulders roared in pain from the strain. The chain attaching her wrists to her ankles snapped taut but didn't break. The cuffs around her ankles and wrists, even though they were padded with fur, burned her skin but didn't snap. Clara screamed in frustration and pain.

“AAAAHHHHHHGGGRRRRRMMPPPPHH!”

She repeated this process three times, each time not as forceful as before, the pain from the jolt shocking her. Next she tested her wrists and ankles, flexing her arms and thighs against the chains. Her struggles made the chains jingle like bells. When Clara finally accepted her defeat she hung against the chains panting like a dog. She growled and mumbled in frustration into her sponge gag. Clara gazed around the room. Apart from the van and the set the building seemed empty. A set of stairs on the side led to an exit. A fire door beside the loading bay door was the only other way out. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a CCTV camera. Clara stared up and screamed at her watchers.

In an office the two men stared at the CCTV screen and watched Clara's struggles. The younger man was still rubbing his fingers where Clara had bitten him earlier.

“Jesus, what a bitch, she hasn't stopped since we picked her up,” he said.

“Relax Greg, the customer is king,” the older man laughed.

“She's booked for one more hour, then we let her go. One second, my phone,” the woman said as her mobile suddenly rang in her handbag. She fished her phone from her bag while the two men carefully watched Clara rock back and forth on the mattress.

“Hello, Claudine's Fantasy, how can I help. Oh, Hi... OK... I though.. Red Jacket... OK.”

The two men continued to watch the monitor as the woman talked on the phone. As the conversation continued the woman went white and looked more and more worried. “OK, we'll take care of that A.S.A.P,” the woman hung up. “Boys, we have really fucked up.”

The two men stared dumbly at her.

Clara had long since given up trying to free herself by the time her captors returned. She gazed up as the door opened and the three walked towards her. Clara lay on her belly, relaxing her body as much as she possibly could in the loose hogtie. Her mouth was dry, the sponge soaking up any saliva that built up.

“I'm sorry, there's been a terrible mistake,” the female captor called over to Clara.

The woman walked quickly over, pulled the Lycra cloth from Clara's face and pulled the sponge from her mouth. Clara coughed and retched when the sponge was pulled out. She worked her jaw and licked her lips in an attempt to relieve the ache in her jaw and the dryness of her mouth.

“Ggrraaagghhhhh, eeeeewwwwwhhhhh, aahhh,” she complained.

“I think we have a case of mistaken identity.”

“What the fuck do you mean, 'mistaken identity',” Clara growled when she finally got some feeling back in her mouth.

“We have a fantasy business,” the woman explained, “we arrange kidnappings for clients.”

“What?” Clara barked.

“People pay us to bundle them into the van and keep them captive for a few hours. It's a service. I'm afraid you were wearing the same outfit our client did. You were also in the agreed meeting point. No worries. We'll let you go. No damage done.”

“No damage? No Damage, fuck that,” Clara screamed, “you drag me into the back of your shitty van, tie me up, gag me, ruin my clothes and now I'm pretty sure I'm going to miss my flight back home!”

The two men stared at each other. The younger man gulped.

“Now, Miss we are very....”

Clara cut the woman off. “Bitch! You untie me now. Once I'm out of here I'm going to sue you till your head spins. You assholes will be lucky if you get a job as bin men.”

“Look Miss, there's no need to sue, if we can...”

“Bitch, untie me now and call the fucking police.”

“Ooooh, fuck it!” the woman captor said.

“You stupid, idiotic, CUNNNMMMMPPPPHHHHH!!!!”

The woman cut Clara of by shoving the sponge back into her mouth. She pulled her fingers out of her mouth quickly before Clara could react and bite down.

“What are you doing? She'll get us arrested!” the younger man exclaimed.

“No worries,” she answered as she tightly secured the gag with the Lycra strip, “I have an idea.”

She pulled the Lycra cloth painfully tight and tied it off behind Clara's head. The knot dug into the back of Clara's head while the Lycra drew her lips back in a painful, comic grin. The sponge was driven far back into Clara's mouth and she struggled not to retch and choke, her tongue desperately trying to push the sponge back.

“Now that's how you gag someone,” the woman laughed and patted Clara's head patronisingly.

“UUUURRRRRGGGGKKKK...” Clara tried to answer, her words strangled by the gag.

* * *

One week later.

Ruth was a bit pissed off at the no-show, but when it was explained to her the van had broken down, well, shit happens. When they offered her the “Deluxe experience” at no extra cost, well that was fair enough. She told them where she would be, what she would be wearing and what time it would happen. Unlike the previous week it went like clockwork.

She walked down the dark, underground car park, a van drove slowly beside her. Without warning she was bundled in. Arms were cuffed, then ankles. Next a sponge was place in her mouth and tied in with a black cloth. She theatrically struggled against her captors, bucking and rolling on the floor. 'This is great,' she thought.

The van drove its route to the warehouse, staying carefully within the speed limit, giving a respectful distance to any vehicles around. Finally it arrived at the warehouse and reversed into the loading bay.

The two men jumped out and lifted their hostage carefully out of the van. Ruth struggled playfully against her chains. “AAHHT OO OOUU ANT?” she mumbled through her gag.

The men carried her to the set and let Ruth get a good look. A bare mattress on the ground and three high plywood panels painted to give the illusion of brick. A fake window with a picture of a cityscape in the background. These things were not what drew Ruth's attention though.

In the corner of the room stood another woman bound in the most fiendish fashion. “You better co-operate or you'll be punished like her,” the woman kidnapper growled at Ruth.

“UH MMM, UH HUH.” Ruth nodded slowly. The sight of the other bound woman turned her on. 'Wow, I wish I had a body like her,' Ruth thought.

Clara stood there blind to her surroundings. A wide panel gag cover the lower part of her face, from nose to chin. A large, padded blindfold covered her upper face so only her nose was visible. Around her neck was a thick leather collar that ran from her chin to her shoulders. The collar was attached to the ceiling by a thick chain.

A strange wide leather belt wrapped around her upper arms and tits. It was fastened tightly, crushing her upper arms and tits. Her ample boobs spilled out over the top of the belt. Buckles on the front held it in place. Her arms were bound up with a four inch belt which was attached by another thick strap to the belt that encircled her chest. The tops of her tits glistened with the drool that flowed from the chin of her panel gag.

A black leather corset squeezed her waist into an impossibly small size, enhancing her ass and tits. Her figure was forced into a severe 'hourglass' shape.

A pair of thigh high patent leather boots with stiletto heel adorned her legs.

Metal cuffs connected with a short metal chain bit into her ankles. Unseen to Ruth, Clara's ears were stuffed with a pair of ear plugs. The ear plugs were then further sealed with putty. The noise from the outside world was distorted and muffled. Clara had the sensation of being underwater.

The men placed Ruth gently on the bare mattress facing Clara's bound body. Clara may have been blindfolded and her ears plugged but she could dimly hear voices and footsteps. She gingerly turned towards Ruth, her feet unsteady in the heeled boots. A long trail of drool swung from her panel gag as she moved.

“MUUUUHHFFFF UUUHHHHMMMMPPPP MMUUUUUHHHHHF,” Clara garbled.

The sounds from Clara's mouth sounded wet and tormented, like someone slurping very hot soup. Ruth no longer struggled in her bondage; she was transfixed on the sight of Clara. 'Christ, she's hot,' Ruth thought.

Clara gurgled and slurped into her gag, slowly moving her head from right to left, trying to engage whoever was in the room. She bent her knees as far as the chain would allow, trying to relieve the aches in her legs. The woman walked over and grabbed Clara by the collar.

“OK, Ruth. We're going to arrange your ransom,” the lady captor said, shaking Clara's collar, “he'd better pay up or you'll end up like her.”

“PPPLLLLAAHHH UUUUTTTTT EEEEEEE OOOHHHH,” Clara drooled.

With the minimum of fuss the woman unleashed Clara from the ceiling and pushed her face first onto the mattress beside Ruth. Clara landed with a 'thud' on the mattress, bounced off and landed roughly on the floor. Ruth could hear a loud grunt as she fell and air whistled from Clara's nose.

'Ouch,' Ruth thought, 'she's really good at this.'

“Uuuuhhhhhhhhh,” Clara groaned quietly. The younger man strode forward and quickly tied the chains on Clara's ankle cuff to the buckles in the leather belts that bound her arms.

“This'll teach you to bite,” he whispered into Clara's ear.

With one quick pull Clara was stretched into a savage hogtie, her back arching backwards. “UUUURRRRRRRRGGGGMMMMPPHHH!” she grunted.

He then made Clara even more uncomfortable by attaching the rope that hogtied her to the chain from the ceiling. The younger man then tied rope to the back of Clara's blindfold and tied that also to the chain on her ankle cuffs. Clara's head was pulled back as far as possible. The poor captive groaned in misery into her gag.

“UUUURRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMPPHHHHHH.”

“Now you girls get to know each other. We'll see you later, Ruth.”

Clara lay there in her hogtie not sure what was going on. She had been left there standing, blindfolded and gagged from what seemed hours. Now she was on her belly, hogtied. Her hearing was hampered by the earplugs and while she could hear faint noises she wasn't sure what was causing them. Was there somebody in the room with her?

Ruth watched her captors walk out, leaving her alone with her new room-mate. She watched while Clara shifted and trembled in her bonds. Drool was slowly trickling from her gag onto the floor. She watched while Clara arched her back and bent her knees, trying unsuccessfully to relieve the pressure from the hogtie.

“AARRHH OOUUU OOOHHH AAYY???” Ruth called through her sponge gag.

“OOUUU AAHHHRRRRR, UMMpph.....” Clara thought she could hear something. She moved her head as far left and right as her bondage allowed to detect the source of the noise.

“She ain't struggling too much now,” the younger man laughed as he watched the scene on the CCTV monitor. He watched while Ruth rolled on the mattress playfully pulling at her chains. Clara, however, lay in her hogtie, panting in discomfort.

“I think she's going to fit right in.” the woman smiled and picked up her phone, dialling a number. “Hello, yes, we got your wife.”

Jim wasn't sure about all this 'kidnap' fantasy stuff but Ruth had insisted. He had just received the call and all he had to do was 'pay the ransom' and pick his wife up. She had better enjoyed it. It cost enough money.

He drove into the business estate, found the building and pulled into the carpark. He stepped out of the car , walked up to the door and buzzed the buzzer.

“Yeah, uh hi. I'm Jim. I'm here to pay for Ruth,” Christ, he felt dumb doing this.

“Come right in,” a male voice on the buzzer replied, “follow the hall straight down. We'll be there.”

The door's electric lock clicked open and Jim walked in. The hall was dimly lit and at the bottom was a door. A 'Kidnapper's Lair' sign was stuck on the door. Jim shook his head at the silly sign and opened the door.

Two men held Ruth by the arms, their faces covered with black balaclavas. Ruth was unbound but her mouth was still stifled by the sponge and cloth gag. When Ruth saw her husband she squealed dramatically into her gag and struggled against the men.

“Let her go, goons. He's paid the ransom,” the woman called out theatrically.

Once released Ruth ran to Jim throwing her arms around him. She tugged the cloth from her lips and pulled the sponge from her mouth.

“Oh Jim, thank God you came. It was awful,” Ruth hammily said, sinking her head into Jim's chest.

Jim's attention was fixed on something else, however. Behind the two men stood a shapely woman, her features hidden by a black balaclava. Beside her however was Clara, now again chained to the ceiling. Blind, deaf and dumb to the outside world.

“Fuck!” Jim gasped, he felt his cock grow at the sight.

“You are a lucky man, Mr Rogers. If you hadn't paid the ransom Ruth would have ended like this.”

Ruth and Jim stared in silence as the woman tugged and unbuckled Clara's gag. Finally she got the buckles loose and pulled the panel gag loose. The large, red ball that had been inside Clara's mouth came out with an audible 'POP.' A river of drool followed the ball.

“Fuck!” Jim gasped.

“MWWAAAAAAHHHHHHH! OOOHHH. AHHHHHHH!” Clara panted and wailed as the gag was released.

She tossed her head back and forth, working her jaw up and down. Everyone stared at the sight.

“UHHH, OHH, UHH, puhhhleasssee, please, luht, let me guuhhh, “ Clara's numb mouth and tongue struggled to pronounce the words, “Puhleasseee let me go, please let meMMMPPPHH!”

“Silence, you!” the woman cut Clara's pleas off, covering her mouth with her gloved hand.

“Now go. Before I change my mind.” she shouted dramatically at Ruth and Jim.

Ruth and Jim looked at each other and left the room. “She's such a good actress,” Ruth whispered as they left, “you'd almost think it was real.”

“Yeah, it looked great,” Jim struggled to hide his erection, “did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” Ruth chirped, “it was brilliant. I'd love to do it again!”

“If you want,” Jim opened the door of the car for his wife, “let's talk about it at home.”

* * *

The next day:

The woman sat at her desk staring at the spreadsheet on her computer. “OK, yes that's no problem,” she talked into her phone, “glad you enjoyed it. No, you were really good. If you want her in the package it'll cost more, I'm afraid.”

She turned around in her chair to face Clara. Clara sat on a very narrow padded leather stool with no back or sides. The seat of the stool was no more than seven inches in length and four inches wide. A single thick metal pole screwed into the floor supported the seat about three feet from the floor. Clara's body was naked save for a pair of black stockings. Her wrists, bound tightly over her head with leather belts, were attached to the ceiling with a metal hook at the end of a chain. Clara's ankles were bound with small chains attached to the wall, forcing her legs apart. She had to support herself by her tippy-toes to remain on the seat. If she decided to come off the seat she would hang from the ceiling by her arms, her full weight supported by her toes. Experience told her that this would not be good. It said a lot that this was the most comfortable Clara had been since she had been captive for the past eight days.

“Yes she enjoyed working with you,” the woman smiled at Clara as she spoke into the phone, “don't worry, she's a professional, it doesn't really hurt her.”

“MMMUUURRRPPHHH. MMMPHH.” a large red ball with wide leather straps stifled Clara's complaints.

She panted and sighed as she swung from the ceiling, the 'stool' barely giving her body support.

“Yes, so Thursday, that's in three days?” the woman stood up and walked towards Clara, “I think we can do that. So what time and what shall you be wearing?”

Clara struggled as the woman gently wiped the drool from Clara's chin. She smiled at it and then rubbed it into Clara's nipples. Clara struggled and mumbled into her gag.

“NUUHH, NUH, UMMPH, mmmmpppphhh!” Clara's slurping complaints were further silenced when the woman tightly placed her hand over Clara's mouth. Clara twisted her head left and right in a vain attempt to escape her grasp.

“So Thursday, two in the afternoon. You'll be wearing a white hat,” the woman smiled evilly at Clara. “Oh by the way, just wondered, do you want any 'torture' scenarios?”

Clara's eyes widened when the word 'torture' was spoken. She shook her head in the negative while the woman's hand was clamped over her lips. “Nuuhhmmpphh, nnuuuhhhmmpphh, nuuuuuhhhhhmmpp..”

“Not you, Ruth, I mean the other girl,” she smiled at Clara, “it was her idea actually, just some light whipping, nipple clamps, we're not doing anything against her will.”

“Nnuuhhhhh, nuhhmmp, nuh,” Clara repeated , shaking and struggling against her captor.

“No she's cool with it. It'll cost extra but it'll be fun. So you want nipple clamps and whipping. I'll give you more options by email later. OK, bye Ruth.”

She hung up, smiled at Clara, and released her hand from her mouth. “So we got a new gig for you in a few days time, Clara. Looks like you're going to be a hit.”

Clara groaned in defeat, grunting and moaning in discomfort.

“I think you are going to be very, very busy the next couple of months, Clara.”

Clara shook her head left and right weakly and moaned miserably into her gag. “NUUUUUUHHHHHHHHMMMMMMM.”

The End

Copyright© 2014 by Jubal Jackson. All rights reserved. I welcome your comments. Email me at jubaljackson@gmail.com