SHIRLEY SMELT THE SWEET SCENT OF HER MISTRESS AS SHE CLOSED IN ON HER.
She then felt her left ankle being hitched to its restraint. This then swiftly followed by the right ankle.
Her legs were now extremely stretched apart.
The same was to follow with her arms. Whatever she was to suffer now was up to Zelda. She was now only meat.
She felt Zelda add just that little extra tension to the restraints. The back of the Chesterfield pressed even harder against her belly. Her arms felt as though they would separate from her shoulders. Her crutch was about to tear her in two. No whipping horse could have provided more painful security.
Zelda's sharp fingernails clawed up her thighs and scored her buttocks. This punctuated by a sharp slap on Shirley's bottom before Zelda went to her cupboard.
She returned with a double skinned blow-up hood.
For Shirley, as this was pulled over her head, the lights went out. Its penile gag was forced down her mouth and breathing was only possible through the fine tube that protruded to the out-side air.
She felt the hood inflating and soon could hear nothing from the activities of her Mistress. Her breathing became heavy and she was totally disorientated apart from the contact with her restraints and the back of the sofa.
Zelda opened a fresh bottle of poppers and impregnated a small pack of cotton-wool.
This she placed close to the end of the breathing tube. Shirley's breathing subsided as the oder reached her brain. She had now virtually submitted her flesh to its own fate.
IT WAS ABOUT TO START!
