Troy McNaughtonPoints of Passion--Part Five
October 19th 2007 01:19
Points of Passion—Part Five
We last saw Cade submitting to the sadistic ministrations of HOOTER as his loyal suburban spouse, Riana, journeyed from Kellyville to claim her rightful place by Cade’s side. But just how many sacrifices is the wifely Riana prepared to make in order to win back Cade and his credit cards? The plot thickens….
Part Five
Even as HOOTER was dishing out the abasement that Cade secretly craved, Riana was bravely making her way toward Sydney. The Bandor Electroglide scooter purchased with Westpac Altitude points lay smoking and dysfunctional along the roadside somewhere between Regents Park and Rookwood. Riana had had no choice but to stick out her thumb and hitch, relying on the kindness of strangers and the largesse of truck drivers, more than one of whom had expected that she give him some Bonus Points in the back of his cab at the next rest stop. One particular driver, a swarthy and lustful working-class man with “The Mad Macedonian” emblazoned on a plaque on the front of his Mack truck, was so overwhelmed by Riana’s feminine skills that he had even asked her to be his Bonus Partner for life.
Riana’s little rosebud mouth trembled each time she had to fit it around a big, fat CENSORED and CENSOR with all her might, but she got through it by thinking of all the bodice-rippers she had read whilst Cade was at work, the kind of paperbacks that you find in the $2.95 bargain bin, the kind with fancy ornate writing on the cover, in which the heroine always feels more feminine and fulfilled after being ravished by an uncouth, muscular brute. After all, the essence of femininity was SACRIFICE! And Riana was prepared to make sacrifices to win back the love, the earning power, and the reward points of Cade.
As Riana was orally earning her passage to Camperdown, HOOTER was flinging salt onto the welts she’d inflicted on Cade’s backside. “Organic Sea Salt, ground in a Rosendahl salt rasp, 22,500 Altitude points!” HOOTER taunted, rubbing a hefty handful of ground salt into the mortified flesh of Cade’s manly arse.
Cade could contain his passion no longer. “OHHHHH HOOOTER! GIVE IT TO ME, HOOTER!,” Cade shouted ecstatically. “I’M A MIDDLE-CLASS FART AND I DESERVE IT! BEAT MY BORING AND MATERIALISTIC BUTT, MISTRESS HOOTER!”
After the Mad Macedonian regretfully allowed Riana to alight from his truck in front of HOOTER’s house, blasted an appreciative toot from his horn and drove off, Riana squared her petite shoulders and lifted her chin. Riana minced across the street, and rang HOOTER’s doorbell. Distasteful as the confrontation with HOOTER would likely be, Riana would not flinch. Riana, a Woman of Substance, had a score to settle.
To be continued….
We last saw Cade submitting to the sadistic ministrations of HOOTER as his loyal suburban spouse, Riana, journeyed from Kellyville to claim her rightful place by Cade’s side. But just how many sacrifices is the wifely Riana prepared to make in order to win back Cade and his credit cards? The plot thickens….
Part Five
Even as HOOTER was dishing out the abasement that Cade secretly craved, Riana was bravely making her way toward Sydney. The Bandor Electroglide scooter purchased with Westpac Altitude points lay smoking and dysfunctional along the roadside somewhere between Regents Park and Rookwood. Riana had had no choice but to stick out her thumb and hitch, relying on the kindness of strangers and the largesse of truck drivers, more than one of whom had expected that she give him some Bonus Points in the back of his cab at the next rest stop. One particular driver, a swarthy and lustful working-class man with “The Mad Macedonian” emblazoned on a plaque on the front of his Mack truck, was so overwhelmed by Riana’s feminine skills that he had even asked her to be his Bonus Partner for life.
Riana’s little rosebud mouth trembled each time she had to fit it around a big, fat CENSORED and CENSOR with all her might, but she got through it by thinking of all the bodice-rippers she had read whilst Cade was at work, the kind of paperbacks that you find in the $2.95 bargain bin, the kind with fancy ornate writing on the cover, in which the heroine always feels more feminine and fulfilled after being ravished by an uncouth, muscular brute. After all, the essence of femininity was SACRIFICE! And Riana was prepared to make sacrifices to win back the love, the earning power, and the reward points of Cade.
As Riana was orally earning her passage to Camperdown, HOOTER was flinging salt onto the welts she’d inflicted on Cade’s backside. “Organic Sea Salt, ground in a Rosendahl salt rasp, 22,500 Altitude points!” HOOTER taunted, rubbing a hefty handful of ground salt into the mortified flesh of Cade’s manly arse.
Cade could contain his passion no longer. “OHHHHH HOOOTER! GIVE IT TO ME, HOOTER!,” Cade shouted ecstatically. “I’M A MIDDLE-CLASS FART AND I DESERVE IT! BEAT MY BORING AND MATERIALISTIC BUTT, MISTRESS HOOTER!”
After the Mad Macedonian regretfully allowed Riana to alight from his truck in front of HOOTER’s house, blasted an appreciative toot from his horn and drove off, Riana squared her petite shoulders and lifted her chin. Riana minced across the street, and rang HOOTER’s doorbell. Distasteful as the confrontation with HOOTER would likely be, Riana would not flinch. Riana, a Woman of Substance, had a score to settle.
To be continued….
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