Troy McNaughtonPoints of Passion--Part Seven
October 21st 2007 02:46
Points of Passion—Part Seven
In the exciting climax, Kellyville homeowner Cade must make a choice. Will it be Riana, credit card reward points, and a McMansion? Or HOOTER, her cat o’nine tails, and an inner-West dungeon?
Part Seven
As Cade scrubbed HOOTER’s shower floor on his hands and knees, the sound of Riana’s terrified wail pierced his heart like the 20 cm bread knife from the Zwillig Pro 7-piece carving set they’d only recently ordered from the Telstra Visa catalogue. Ripping off the silly French maid’s uniform that HOOTER made him wear for his sessions of Household Humiliation, Cade raced up the stairs, his manhood flopping impressively with each purposeful stride.
At the top of the staircase, Cade was confronted with a sight that was worth at least half a million reward points, maybe more. Pinned to the wall was his beloved Riana, Queen of the Telstra Visa complaint call, famous in call centres throughout the Christendom for her shrieking nasal insistence that “These reward points belong to ME, too! Marriage is a partnership, and my husband and I have an equal partnership! He makes the money, and I SPEND IT!”
Pinning Riana to the wall was MISTRESS HOOTER, Queen of all things below Cade’s belt, who didn’t have a Telstra Visa Card or a Westpac Altitude Card, and who, if you offered her one, would sneer in your face and ram that stupid piece of plastic up one of your unmentionable orifices.
The two were crushed together, corn-fed D-cup bosom (Hooter) to demure A-cup bosom (Riana), arousing Cade’s deepest lust and generating an inner conflict that might sustain one of those tacky supermarket romance novellas for at least a couple hundred pages. Whom would he choose? Riana, The Goddess of Domestic Materialism, or HOOTER, the High Priestess of the Damn Good F---k? Or maybe…God, it was almost too much to contemplate—BOTH AT THE SAME TIME??!! Suddenly, Cade wished he was still wearing those frilly white knickers, or something, anything, to contain his swelling excitement.
HOOTER and Riana both dropped their eyes to inspect Cade’s fifth limb. Riana, her throat closed by HOOTER’s powerful grip, could manage only a dutiful wifely squeak. It was HOOTER who spoke. “I didn’t order you to salute me,” HOOTER said, pleasantly, but with a definite undertone of menace. Cade, obeying his Mistress, willed his member into submissive flaccidity.
Riana wrenched herself free from HOOTER’s grasp and flung herself into Cade’s arms. Her lips, blue from lack of oxygen, could barely form the words, “Primary… Cardholder…Rewards…Statement… need…to…PUT A COMPLAINT IN WRITING!” With that, Riana crumpled into a dead faint. Or seemed to. Riana, clever secondary cardholder that she was, knew that nothing aroused a man’s protective urges like the appearance of female weakness. Riana hadn’t really fainted. Riana, eyes closed and lips parted sensuously, only pretended to be unconscious while she listened to Cade and HOOTER. It suited her to let Cade handle everything. Besides, she was itching to know, what does HOOTER have that I don’t?
“Give that bitch a good smack,” HOOTER ordered Cade, who gave Riana a backhander across her prissy little mouth. It was for her own good, he guiltily told himself.
Riana screamed hysterically and beat her tiny fists against Cade’s hairy chest. “That’s no way to treat a lady!” she sobbed. “Especially when the lady is about to present you, in six months’ time, with ANOTHER SECONDARY CARDHOLDER!”
The force of Riana’s tidings hit Cade like a thunderbolt. Riana was about to give him—A LITTLE VOUCHER! A loving little bundle of reward points! A pint-sized product redemption!
“My Darling,” Cade said, gazing into Riana’s insipid, self-satisfied face. “How could I have ever doubted the terms and conditions of our marriage contract? Let’s go home and look at that Telstra Visa catalogue again. I think I remember seeing something about vouchers for Babyland.”
Actually, Babyland was in the Bank of Queensland Sunshine Rewards program booklet, but Riana was too busy savouring her triumph over HOOTER to correct him. “I think we’ve just discovered just who’s listed as an Authorised Person on Cade’s account, and WHO ISN’T,” she said to HOOTER, with fake sweetness.
HOOTER was boiling with rage. “YOU AREN’T LEAVING ME!” HOOTER shouted. “I’m throwing you out! GET OUT OF MY DUNGEON NOW, YOU TWO SUBURBAN POINT WHORES!”
Cade and Riana departed, hearing HOOTER’s front door slam behind them, then open again as HOOTER tossed Cade’s pants out after him, though out of pure spite she refused to surrender his shirt or the new trainers he’d got with ShooBiz vouchers. It would be a long trip back to Kellyville. Cade was shirtless and barefoot. They had three million dollars combined debt on their credit cards. Their BankWest reward statement kept going to the wrong address. But who cared? They’d think about all that tomorrow. After all, tomorrow’s mail might bring a credit card application for the Suncorp Clear Options card!
THE END
EPILOGUEMistress HOOTER was so distraught at losing her most loyal slave that she closed her Bondage and Discipline Dungeon and went on an extended fast food binge, eating herself into a size 28. She now runs a shop—HOOTER’S MUU-MUU LAND, specialising in colourful attire for the full-figured woman.
In the exciting climax, Kellyville homeowner Cade must make a choice. Will it be Riana, credit card reward points, and a McMansion? Or HOOTER, her cat o’nine tails, and an inner-West dungeon?
Part Seven
As Cade scrubbed HOOTER’s shower floor on his hands and knees, the sound of Riana’s terrified wail pierced his heart like the 20 cm bread knife from the Zwillig Pro 7-piece carving set they’d only recently ordered from the Telstra Visa catalogue. Ripping off the silly French maid’s uniform that HOOTER made him wear for his sessions of Household Humiliation, Cade raced up the stairs, his manhood flopping impressively with each purposeful stride.
At the top of the staircase, Cade was confronted with a sight that was worth at least half a million reward points, maybe more. Pinned to the wall was his beloved Riana, Queen of the Telstra Visa complaint call, famous in call centres throughout the Christendom for her shrieking nasal insistence that “These reward points belong to ME, too! Marriage is a partnership, and my husband and I have an equal partnership! He makes the money, and I SPEND IT!”
Pinning Riana to the wall was MISTRESS HOOTER, Queen of all things below Cade’s belt, who didn’t have a Telstra Visa Card or a Westpac Altitude Card, and who, if you offered her one, would sneer in your face and ram that stupid piece of plastic up one of your unmentionable orifices.
The two were crushed together, corn-fed D-cup bosom (Hooter) to demure A-cup bosom (Riana), arousing Cade’s deepest lust and generating an inner conflict that might sustain one of those tacky supermarket romance novellas for at least a couple hundred pages. Whom would he choose? Riana, The Goddess of Domestic Materialism, or HOOTER, the High Priestess of the Damn Good F---k? Or maybe…God, it was almost too much to contemplate—BOTH AT THE SAME TIME??!! Suddenly, Cade wished he was still wearing those frilly white knickers, or something, anything, to contain his swelling excitement.
HOOTER and Riana both dropped their eyes to inspect Cade’s fifth limb. Riana, her throat closed by HOOTER’s powerful grip, could manage only a dutiful wifely squeak. It was HOOTER who spoke. “I didn’t order you to salute me,” HOOTER said, pleasantly, but with a definite undertone of menace. Cade, obeying his Mistress, willed his member into submissive flaccidity.
Riana wrenched herself free from HOOTER’s grasp and flung herself into Cade’s arms. Her lips, blue from lack of oxygen, could barely form the words, “Primary… Cardholder…Rewards…Statement… need…to…PUT A COMPLAINT IN WRITING!” With that, Riana crumpled into a dead faint. Or seemed to. Riana, clever secondary cardholder that she was, knew that nothing aroused a man’s protective urges like the appearance of female weakness. Riana hadn’t really fainted. Riana, eyes closed and lips parted sensuously, only pretended to be unconscious while she listened to Cade and HOOTER. It suited her to let Cade handle everything. Besides, she was itching to know, what does HOOTER have that I don’t?
“Give that bitch a good smack,” HOOTER ordered Cade, who gave Riana a backhander across her prissy little mouth. It was for her own good, he guiltily told himself.
Riana screamed hysterically and beat her tiny fists against Cade’s hairy chest. “That’s no way to treat a lady!” she sobbed. “Especially when the lady is about to present you, in six months’ time, with ANOTHER SECONDARY CARDHOLDER!”
The force of Riana’s tidings hit Cade like a thunderbolt. Riana was about to give him—A LITTLE VOUCHER! A loving little bundle of reward points! A pint-sized product redemption!
“My Darling,” Cade said, gazing into Riana’s insipid, self-satisfied face. “How could I have ever doubted the terms and conditions of our marriage contract? Let’s go home and look at that Telstra Visa catalogue again. I think I remember seeing something about vouchers for Babyland.”
Actually, Babyland was in the Bank of Queensland Sunshine Rewards program booklet, but Riana was too busy savouring her triumph over HOOTER to correct him. “I think we’ve just discovered just who’s listed as an Authorised Person on Cade’s account, and WHO ISN’T,” she said to HOOTER, with fake sweetness.
HOOTER was boiling with rage. “YOU AREN’T LEAVING ME!” HOOTER shouted. “I’m throwing you out! GET OUT OF MY DUNGEON NOW, YOU TWO SUBURBAN POINT WHORES!”
Cade and Riana departed, hearing HOOTER’s front door slam behind them, then open again as HOOTER tossed Cade’s pants out after him, though out of pure spite she refused to surrender his shirt or the new trainers he’d got with ShooBiz vouchers. It would be a long trip back to Kellyville. Cade was shirtless and barefoot. They had three million dollars combined debt on their credit cards. Their BankWest reward statement kept going to the wrong address. But who cared? They’d think about all that tomorrow. After all, tomorrow’s mail might bring a credit card application for the Suncorp Clear Options card!
THE END
EPILOGUEMistress HOOTER was so distraught at losing her most loyal slave that she closed her Bondage and Discipline Dungeon and went on an extended fast food binge, eating herself into a size 28. She now runs a shop—HOOTER’S MUU-MUU LAND, specialising in colourful attire for the full-figured woman.
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