Mathew threw some towels on the floor and had her get on her knees and elbows while he handed the nozzle to Don. Don said, “You’d better hold this...in bitch, or you’ll be cleaning this floor the rest of the night while we go to a different room.” He knew the extra danger would add to the difficulty. He loved every second of it. Mathew had Jamie hold the enema bag while he gagged Cindy and then looked for the perfect whip to use on her tits. After Jamie’s earlier scream, he thought the gag would. “He left it as a surprise.”“Humm…that’s…romantic.”“I know.”“Kinda like…creepy romantic, like kidnap you romantic.”“Shut up.” She brushed me off with her hand as she sat straight on the bed. Her eyes wondered around for a bit before they settled on the dress I’d hanged on the handle of the closet’s door. “Yeah!” She raised her arms jokingly as she looked at me. “You got it all dry-cleaned for me and everything.”“Sure did,” I said.I didn’t know if my unenthusiasm showed on my face, or if she’d. }She looked around, and her eyes fell again on the boxes. "I know," she said, heading for them. "I bet there's a bathrobe or something in one." Of the half-a-ton of clothes they must have bought today, sleepwear wasn't among them. The box her Snow White sheets and white-with-a-few-red-roses blanket came in had other Disney merchandise in it. Tammy, briefly, wondered which of the neighborhood girls had outgrown that phase. There were a couple of candidates. One was her own age.But there was no. A small TV set, with video attached. A dining table, old but polished, with three non-matching dining chairs. Tiny ornaments, cats and dragons mainly, distributed on just about every flat surface. A gas fire, with a soft white rug laid in front of it. A bookcase, full of well-used paperbacks, amongst which Stephen King was well represented, as was Patricia Cornwell.He heard Martine singing softly to herself and tried to identify the tune, but couldn't. It was, he supposed, something way too.
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