Troy McNaughtonPoints of Passion--Part Six
October 20th 2007 05:03
Points of Passion—Part Six
In the last episode, Riana surrendered her virtue to a series of truck drivers in exchange for transport from Kellyville to Camperdown. As Cade luxuriated in a bondage session, Riana plotted to wrench him from the arms of HOOTER, a dominatrix with no respect for marriage, property, or credit card reward points. A confrontation looms….
Part Six
“Now lick my boots, crawl out of my sight, and clean the bathroom,” HOOTER snarled at Cade as she unbound him. “I want that bathroom spic and span before I take my shower!” Cade slunk out of the room on all fours, hastening to obey his Mistress. HOOTER watched him go with contempt, then proceeded with her morning grooming. She had just tweezed the last black hair from her right nipple when she was interrupted by a knock at the door. Surprised, HOOTER flipped through her diary. She never accepted bookings before noon, and she was sure that it was next week when the electrician was scheduled to repair the Orgasmatron.
BAM! BAM! BAM! The timid knocks had turned to aggressive thumps. Obviously, someone needed to be put in their place. No, someone needed to be put in his or her place, HOOTER thought, mentally correcting her own grammar as she slipped into a cleavage-revealing nurse’s uniform, accessorised with white Nurse Ratchett shoes, rubber gloves, and a chic little enema bag.
Riana’s innards quailed as the door swung open. Before her stood a dirty-blonde, statuesque strumpet dressed like a tarty nurse. Riana noticed with distaste that the woman’s nipples were showing through the thin polyester uniform. Then the reality hit her like a thunderbolt. This, Riana realised, was her arch-enemy, her nemesis, her bete-noire, HOOTER!
“Welcome to HOOTER’s Bondage Dungeon. Are you interested in a standard whipping, or would you prefer to explore your dominant side by humiliating my resident slave?” HOOTER said, demonstrating her ineffable, HOOTER-ish talent for saying precisely the wrong thing at precisely the wrong time.
Riana’s lip curled. “I didn’t come here for any of your sick services, HOOTER. I’ve come to claim my husband, my breadwinner, my primary cardholder, the owner of my heart and my reward points. In the words of Loretta Lynn, YOU AIN’T WOMAN ENOUGH TO TAKE MY MAN!”
Without missing a beat, HOOTER grabbed Riana by her stupid little Sportsgirl top and yanked her inside. Riana nearly wet the new knickers she’d bought with Target vouchers as she heard the door slam behind her.
HOOTER brought her face close to Riana’s terrified visage and tightened her grip on Riana’s delicate throat. “Let’s get one thing straight, you jealous cow, you pathetic little hausfrau, you WORTHLESS SECONDARY CARDHOLDER! You’re not in Kellyville anymore. You’re not even in middle-class Westie-land anymore. You’re in HOOTER’S DUNGEON, where HOOTER RULES!”
Riana, horrified by this bleached-blonde monster of warped femininity, did the one thing she knew how to do: scream for male assistance. HOOTER’s dungeon echoed with Riana’s heart-rending cry, “Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaade!”
To be continued….
In the last episode, Riana surrendered her virtue to a series of truck drivers in exchange for transport from Kellyville to Camperdown. As Cade luxuriated in a bondage session, Riana plotted to wrench him from the arms of HOOTER, a dominatrix with no respect for marriage, property, or credit card reward points. A confrontation looms….
Part Six
“Now lick my boots, crawl out of my sight, and clean the bathroom,” HOOTER snarled at Cade as she unbound him. “I want that bathroom spic and span before I take my shower!” Cade slunk out of the room on all fours, hastening to obey his Mistress. HOOTER watched him go with contempt, then proceeded with her morning grooming. She had just tweezed the last black hair from her right nipple when she was interrupted by a knock at the door. Surprised, HOOTER flipped through her diary. She never accepted bookings before noon, and she was sure that it was next week when the electrician was scheduled to repair the Orgasmatron.
BAM! BAM! BAM! The timid knocks had turned to aggressive thumps. Obviously, someone needed to be put in their place. No, someone needed to be put in his or her place, HOOTER thought, mentally correcting her own grammar as she slipped into a cleavage-revealing nurse’s uniform, accessorised with white Nurse Ratchett shoes, rubber gloves, and a chic little enema bag.
Riana’s innards quailed as the door swung open. Before her stood a dirty-blonde, statuesque strumpet dressed like a tarty nurse. Riana noticed with distaste that the woman’s nipples were showing through the thin polyester uniform. Then the reality hit her like a thunderbolt. This, Riana realised, was her arch-enemy, her nemesis, her bete-noire, HOOTER!
“Welcome to HOOTER’s Bondage Dungeon. Are you interested in a standard whipping, or would you prefer to explore your dominant side by humiliating my resident slave?” HOOTER said, demonstrating her ineffable, HOOTER-ish talent for saying precisely the wrong thing at precisely the wrong time.
Riana’s lip curled. “I didn’t come here for any of your sick services, HOOTER. I’ve come to claim my husband, my breadwinner, my primary cardholder, the owner of my heart and my reward points. In the words of Loretta Lynn, YOU AIN’T WOMAN ENOUGH TO TAKE MY MAN!”
Without missing a beat, HOOTER grabbed Riana by her stupid little Sportsgirl top and yanked her inside. Riana nearly wet the new knickers she’d bought with Target vouchers as she heard the door slam behind her.
HOOTER brought her face close to Riana’s terrified visage and tightened her grip on Riana’s delicate throat. “Let’s get one thing straight, you jealous cow, you pathetic little hausfrau, you WORTHLESS SECONDARY CARDHOLDER! You’re not in Kellyville anymore. You’re not even in middle-class Westie-land anymore. You’re in HOOTER’S DUNGEON, where HOOTER RULES!”
Riana, horrified by this bleached-blonde monster of warped femininity, did the one thing she knew how to do: scream for male assistance. HOOTER’s dungeon echoed with Riana’s heart-rending cry, “Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaade!”
To be continued….
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