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Message-ID: <29986asstr$987977402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: cats_sara@yahoo.com (Cat's sara)
Reply-To: cats_sara@yahoo.com
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 22 Apr 2001 11:49:51 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} Plain Brown Wrapper - FF, FD, MC, NC, Toys - Cat's sara
Date: Sun, 22 Apr 2001 18:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Do not read if under 18 years of age or if offended by graphic sex
or the idea of fantasy mind control. It *is* fantasy. *Yum.*

(c)2001 by Cat's sara



----

Plain Brown Wrapper

by Cat's sara

Categories: FF, FD, MC, NC, Toys

----

Jeanine looked at the box for quite awhile before carefully cutting
through the tape. It hadn't been the easiest thing she'd ever done to
get up the courage to call in the order, and now that it was here,
she was shaking with both anticipation and guilty embarrassment.

It was much larger than she'd expected.

"The Climax Modulator! The Next Generation in Sexual Fulfillment!"
the flyer had read, and Jeanine had thought it incredibly silly. It
certainly wasn't a sexy name. But in the back of her mind, there was
a continuing chant of, *what if,* that finally made her dial the 800
number and order this "little" toy.

"And it's discreetly shipped?"

"Yes, as the saying goes, 'In a plain brown wrapper with no
distinguishing address,' of course," said the woman who took the
order, giggling.

But that wasn't the end. She was surprised that she had to give out
all kinds of odd measurements, like "hips to underarms", and "nipple
to nipple, horizontally, when erect". Thankfully, Vicki, the woman
who was taking her order, was able to joke about it enough to keep
Jeanine from hanging up. "Don't worry," she had assured Jeanine.
"Once you see how this feels, you won't have a second thought about
whether it was worth it!"

"You *have* one?" Jeanine asked, not quite believing her ears.

"Oh, yes. It's changed *everything* for me. I'm a proud owner of one
of the prototypes!" chirped the happy, sing-songy operator. "By the
way, the Modulator is a bit complex at first, but using it will
become second nature after a few times. But just in case you get lost
trying to put it together, we include a videotape that will help you
if you get too frustrated."

It had seemed kind of silly, and was probably just a pitch for more
gizmos, but Jeanine didn't argue.

And now, she was glad she hadn't. Looking at the multitude of straps
and plugs, as well as the rather large control box, Jeanine was at
least sure that her money had bought her more than an overgrown
vibrator. She recognized certain parts... a dildo, butt plug, tiny
nipple cups, sitting among a few other things that weren't familiar
at all... and all strung together in a kind of intricate webbing that
seemed much more complicated than necessary. *Well, I didn't invent
the thing,* she thought, sighing.

She had no choice but to get out the owner's manual.

"Congratulations," it said, "on your purchase of the finest, most
passion inducing sexual pleasure unit ever created, the *Climax
Modulator!*" Jeanine blushed as she read on about the abandon and
orgasmic bliss she was bound to experience, and, "experience soon!"

She shivered again in anticipation. She had enjoyed sex, but had
never *once* known the earth-shattering orgasms her friends sometimes
talked about, their eyes glazing over in momentary relish.

She'd finally confided in Alice, her best friend at work. Alice,
blushing, had given her the flyer later that day. "One of our
clients," she said. "But it... works. I hope you don't mind."

"No," Jeanine had said, although it was an awkward moment. But, it
was 
also good. It was as if they had both made an unspoken admission...
something that brought them even closer.

And it was something that might take her to new levels of pleasure.

Jeanine wanted that. And now that it was staring her in the face,
she was going to have it. She deserved it. 

Back in the present now, she let her mind wander for a moment, the
image of her own body slick and shiny with sweat, writhing mindlessly
on the floor filling her with a kind of fascination mixed with
helpless dread. On an impulse, she let her finger wander to her
slowly waking clit, and cooed softly as she felt the familiar
pressure of her own need. She removed her clothes and, carefully
reading the instructions, began to attach the thing to various points
on her body.

----

Three hours and an adventure in frustration later, she thought she
had it right.

It was a good thing she hadn't known where everything went to begin
with. She might never have started. Beyond the dildo and plug, there
were all kinds of oddities she'd never imagined. From the tiny clip
that attached to her clit and the nipple cups that grabbed her with a
little start of pleasure, to the adhesive pads that attached wires to
the bone just behind her ears, under her arms and behind her knees,
she felt like she was wired up like a monster in Dr. Frankenstein's
laboratory. "It's alive! *Alive*!" she giggled as she looked at
herself in the mirror.

She had to admit though, looking herself over, that it was sexier
than she'd imagined it might be. In fact, it looked pretty hot. Her
blond hair cascaded down over her shoulders, and somehow, the latex
straps and webbing made her already attractive body look more lithe
and alluring. She posed for herself, letting her hands wander over
her breasts in a moment of private pleasure, and felt her pussy begin
to leak in anticipation.

To deepen the mood, she lit some candles, and turned out the lights.
Over the time she had spent, she had gone from nervous anticipation,
to being ready, to raw craving. She'd hardly noticed, but there was
no doubt about it now, and she felt a bemused recognition in the
change in her demeanor. She blushed slightly at how much she'd gotten
into the idea, but now, like it or not, here it was.

*No turning back now, girlfriend,* she whispered inwardly.

After carefully checking again where everything went, and inserting
the various plugs into the proper places in the Control Unit, she
finally reached out, and with a last moment of resolution, turned on
the power.

She closed her eyes and waited, her lips twitching nervously, body
trembling.

She tensed as the control unit began to hum and then... then...

Nothing.

Not one jolt. Not one hint of anything.

*Shit,* she muttered under her breath.

Now, she was pissed. There was no other word for it. She wanted to
quit, but she'd spent too much time, and she was determined that it
wouldn't be a waste. She'd already neglected to shower or make her
nightly call to her mom and besides, "real life" kinds of things were
nothing but a distraction from what had become her activity for the
evening.

She had no more time for moral dilemmas or rational thought. She was
hot and bothered. *No,* she thought with a deliciously naughty rush,
*I'm* horny. *Nasty.*

And beyond that, she was determined to prove to herself that she
hadn't been ripped off. She stood, walked over to the cardboard box,
pulled out the video and slammed it into the VCR.

She glowered angrily as the video flickered to life. She wasn't
encouraged as a rather smug man appeared on the screen and began to
talk about how great the "Modulator" was. As if he had heard her
original doubts, it turned out to be mostly a sales pitch for his
personal philosophy and more expensive, but equally complex gadgets.
Jeanine was about to turn it off when a beautiful model walked in and
took over the instructions.

"Congratulations! Good for you! You made it past the barrage to the
real instructions," said the model. "My name's Christy, and I'll be
showing you how to properly set up your Modulator.

"Sorry about the aggravation, but the proper use of your custom
Modulator requires a certain... willful determination. Not only that,
but it seems to work better if you've recently been in an emotionally
heightened state. But if you're here, you've certainly been *there.*"

Christy smiled warmly.

Jeanine smiled and relaxed.

"First, we need to properly calibrate your Modulator. It's easy to
do. You should have a long grey cord among the cords that you haven't
used. Plug it into the "Audio Out" jack on your VCR and into the
"Calibration" jack on the Control unit. Right now, press pause on
your VCR, and come back when you're done."

It took her a minute to figure it out, but compared to the rest of
the instructions, this was fairly easy. Coming back to the front of
the TV, she pressed "Play" again.

There was a moment of waiting, and then Christy began talking again.
"Now that you've done that, do the following three things when I tell
you to begin. One, put the VCR on pause again. Two, turn the volume
completely down on your TV. Three, start your VCR again. An audio
signal is going to be sent to the Control unit, and all your TV will
put out is noise. What's going to happen is that the signal will
activate a special mode in the unit and allow it to calibrate itself.
Then, you'll be able to complete the instructions that will send you
into oblivious... *pleasure*...

"Begin now."

Jeanine paused the VCR, turned down the volume on the TV, and then,
just as instructed, pressed "Play".

*"Please move as little as possible while the calibration is in
progress."*

The voice, barely audible, sounded like it was coming from the
center of her head, right in the middle of her brain, almost like it
was her own thinking. Strange. The skin behind her ears tickled and
she realized that it must have been coming from the little buds she
had attached there. *Finally, something amazing.*

*Still not sexual, though,* she pouted.

She began to hear a throbbing hum, and listened more closely. She
couldn't tell at first if it was really getting louder, or if it was
her hopeful imagination. It was a low pitch mixed with something else
she couldn't quite make out. She almost cocked her head but caught
herself. She didn't want to screw this up. Instructions of this
complexity were important, and she knew what failure felt like.

It was definitely louder. Loud enough, in fact, to make the room
look fuzzy with rapid vibration. She didn't exactly *hear* it though,
as much as she *felt* it.

*I love this.*

Had she thought that? Or had it been the "calibration" voice over
the humming? It was so nondescript, and she was having trouble
thinking over the distracting vibrations. It didn't seem like what
she would think, but then again, she was finding it... enjoyable.

*I love this.*

Yes. Love. Definitely her. She loved it. It was wonderful.

The vibration increased. She could feel it in her neck now,
vibrating her Adam's apple. She opened her mouth and moved her tongue
and lips and the sound came forth. "I love this."

It was mechanical. Her words. Someone else's voice. Kind of...

"*Sexy.*"

.... sexy. The most delicious thought entered her head. It was light
and strange, vibrating in tune with the increasing frequencies. She
remembered how odd this would look to anyone walking in. No one would
be walking in. She could let go. Let go. She formed the deliciously
silly thought with her mouth.

"*I obey.*"

The vibrations moved to her shoulders and armpits. If it wasn't
before, it was sexy now. She'd had no idea that her underarms could
be so *sensual*. She closed her eyes and let the new, tingly,
seductive sensation wash through her, over the back of her scalp and
over her face to her lips, which twitched in response...

"*The Control Unit controls.*"

Her eyes flew open wide as her nipples hardened to steel with
painful speed, the vibrations pouring into her. No, out of her. She
couldn't tell.

It was the Control Unit. *Maybe I should turn it off,* she thought,
barely able to think over the incredible vibrations, vibrations
showing her that...

"*THE CONTROL UNIT CONTROLS.*"

Yes. Controls. Teaching her. Teaching her to be...

"*Sexy. Obedient. Slut.*"

.... aroused. As if it was the silliest thing to have forgotten, she
consciously decided to let her thoughts go. No more analysis. Let the
Control Unit talk for her. Talk through her. Teach her. *Train* her.

"*I obey. The Control Unit controls the sexy. Obedient. Slut.*"

A low moan escaped her, mixing with the frequencies cascading out of
her open mouth, forming a delicious, dissonant, lullaby of lust.

Her belly was on fire. Holy, sexy, unquenchable fire. It had never
been so good.

"*Slaves obey. I obey. I am slave. The Control Unit controls. The
slave obeys.*"

The room was hard to see now. She looked more intensely at the TV
screen. Christy was shimmering. Kneeling. Christy looked just like
*her*.

Christy knelt. Jeanine knelt. Christy and Jeanine, bonded by
sisterhood and slavery. One thought. One mind. Obey. Control. Slave.
*Surrender.* She felt herself lose track of the screen and her own
vision, it was all becoming one, one great, obsessed volcano of
molten, golden pleasure. She looked at Christy looking at her. They
were the same thing. They were one.

"*The slave surrenders.*"

The vibrations stopped. Jeanine shook her head at the shock of
silence, trying to break herself out of her blissful daze. The room
still looked fuzzy... almost like the walls were breathing in and out
and in and out and in and out... bulging... bowing... and she was
helpless to do anything but open herself more and more to the
silence, aching for the next word, the next touch.

Something was terribly wrong. She tried to lift herself, but
couldn't move. She lifted her arm slowly. Even her rebellion against
the seductive pleasure and tingling only made her feel it more... and
it was so *hard*... and so *easy* to give in... *to let go...*

"NO!" She was shocked at the sound of he own voice. But her tingling
body betrayed her again, and her lips finished the phrase with, "...
reason to stop..."

She closed her eyes, trying to build up her resolve.

*Calibration complete,* said the now-familiar voice inside her head.
*Commencing primary pleasure and conditioning cycle.*

Blasted by white light and sound so clear and high that it was
beyond her ability to ignore or escape, Jeanine fell to the ground,
writhing as unseen hands brought her to higher and higher plateaus of
mindless orgasm... again... again... *again*...

----

The drive to work was simply awful. The morning had started with a
bit of a funk it was already going downhill. Traffic was slow for no
good reason, and Jeanine felt particularly impatient. When she
finally pulled into the parking garage, she was in even more of a
sour mood.

She walked into the lobby of the building at One First Avenue Plaza
and took the elevator to the thirty-second floor. As the elevator
doors opened, she noticed how depressing the beige walls were. She
knew they were designed to be welcoming and non-intrusive, but they
only made her feel worse.

Everything was making her feel worse.

She set her purse in its usual place behind the reception desk and
took her seat. *My work is a prison. A nightmare,* she thought
blandly. Funny, she'd always liked it, but today it was as if she
were seeing it with open eyes for the very first time.

Alice and Dee, the office whores, walked by and smiled at her. She
smiled back, barely managing to keep it from falling into an open
sneer. Bitches. Funny she'd never seen it before. She'd even thought
of them as friends.

But now, she could see it all. She was surrounded by nothing but
fuckers and fuckees. Coworkers. Useless maggots.

Then, something broke through her glowering, brooding musing.

*I'm happy when my pussy is happy,* came a vaguely familiar thought.
*The Control Unit controls.*

She knew that even yesterday the words would never have crossed her
mind, but it felt like she'd thought them a thousand times. Maybe ten
thousand. It was a thought that made her smile and let go of her
troubles.

The phone rang. She answered. "Nipples on fire, how may I help you?"
she asked cheerfully.

"What?" said an incredulous voice on the other end of the line.

"Bickels-McGuire," she repeated.

"Oh... yes... Mr. McGuire, please."

"May I ask who he's balling?" inquired Jeanine, sweetly.

"Excuse me?"

"May I ask who's calling," repeated Jeanine, starting to sound very
perturbed.

By the time lunch rolled around, she was history.

----

Jeanine nearly dropped the boxes as she came in through the front
door and kicked it shut with her foot. She'd had no idea how many
personal things she'd kept at her office. Four years was enough time
to build up quite a collection, apparently.

She dropped the load in disgust, and went into her bedroom to slip
into some comfortable clothes. To her dismay, nothing seemed right.
She had no choice but to stay naked. *Well, what the hell,* she
thought. *It's not like I'm expecting company.*

She went back to the living room and collected her office things,
moving them to the back door for a trip to the dumpster later. It
wasn't like she had anything she wanted to keep.

Coming back once more, Jeanine looked at the amazing collection of
wires, straps, contacts and plugs and pondered the Modulator. She
hated what it had brought out in her. She was rebellious, angry, and
worst of all, it had cost her the only job she had ever really
enjoyed.

She was surprised at the pulsing throb that started in her pussy...
her *cunt*... when she looked at it.

Shrugging, she went back to her brooding. Sure, it was just a
receptionist position, but she had been given incredible perks along
with very little responsibility. It was part and parcel of working
for one of the most prestigious international law firms in existence.
How could she have let a sour mood and silly, Freudian slips lose it
all for her in a matter of hours?

Then again, she had expected at least a little loyalty after four
years. The only "loyalty" she got was a promise of a good reference.
*C'est la vie,* she thought, trying to smile.

She sighed, and picked up the tangle of wired sex, and took it out
to the kitchen and placed it on top of the pile of things to be
discarded.

Better to be done with it, after all. Good riddance.

Back at the sofa, she plopped down and turned on the TV. Finally
letting go of the day, she waited for whatever was on. The picture
was black and there was no sound.

Laughing at herself, she turned up the volume. She'd completely
forgotten about turning it down.

She was greeted by a clear, high hissing sound. Jerking her eyes
down, she saw it. The Control Unit. She'd forgotten that, too. She
also hadn't noticed that the VCR was still on, or the intricate maze
of wires that now ran between it, the TV and the Control Unit. *What
did I do last night?* she wondered, slightly troubled by her lack of
memory. Damn it.

She stood up and walked across the small room, bending over to
disconnect everything.

Just as she was about to close her fingers around the metal box, she
stopped. The sound from the TV was swirling, forming something.

"*The Control Unit controls.*"

How odd. She hadn't expected to hear anything but noise. She
listened more intently, just for a second.

"*The Control Unit controls,*" the TV hissed, clear and hot and
bright.

Jeanine shook her head. This wasn't right. She wasn't plugged into
the thing. But she didn't move. Not yet.

"*Calibration confirmed. Commencing bi-directional inductive
communication.*"

Jeanine felt something "*other*" tug at her muscles. More curious
than scared, she relaxed and let herself be guided. She stood
straight up and waited, her eyes wide and rapidly dilating.

"*Transmit primary operating protocol.*"

Jeanine shuddered. Completely by reflex, she felt her thoughts form
into words, and move her lungs, throat, tongue and lips.

"The Control Unit controls. The slave obeys," said Jeanine. She knew
it wasn't right. She knew she was acting insane. Those thoughts were
not relevant. The Control Unit controlled. She felt the "other" grow
inside her mind. No, the other was *her*. It was her silly,
independent thought that was alien.

*Yes.*

"Slave. Retrieve Modulator and re-attach for direct connection and
final programming."

Jeanine walked back to the kitchen and looked at the Modulator atop
the huge pile of trash. Curious. She couldn't quite remember why it
was there. It didn't matter. The Control Unit controlled.

She pulled it out and wired herself into the Modulator without a
moment's hesitation. It was child's play.

A long, involuntary moan escaped her lips as the nestled the dildo
and butt plug in her... her...

*Receptacles,* she answered herself. Yes. Receptacles.

She walked back into the living room and plugged herself into the
Control Unit.

She was allowed brief satisfaction. "*Mmmm,*" she slurped, feeling
the familiar vibrations course through her body again. She had
forgotten how fucking *good* it was.

*"I live for this,*" her vibrating throat said.

"*Upload personality for modification via Control Unit,*" she heard
her hissing, vibrating voice command.

She did not know how long she did not think.

----

*"Download complete."*

Jeanie groaned and opened her eyes. She looked at her living room.
It looked the same, but a little less... right. It needed something.
Maybe some new artwork, some different colors... something more
conducive to... pleasure.

She slowly removed the Modulator from her body with a twinge of
aching regret that disappeared as quickly as it had come.

She stood and went to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror and
gasped. Her hair was sticking out crazily, and her face was a mess.
Her body was grimy with dried sweat and sexual ooze... she'd never
seen herself in this kind of condition. It was a little scary.

It was *hot*.

*It isn't the way I look now that is so fucking hot,* she thought.
*It's how I got here.*

She jumped into the shower, cleansing away the filth and grime, and
savored the delicate touch of the water flowing down her body. Her
fingers found her nipples and pulled. A bolt of pleasure shot to her
clit and exploded in her brain. *God,* she gasped silently. *No.
Goddess.*

*Goddess.*

She felt the orgasm sweep through her, washing away what little was
left of any reservations she had. It was just too good to stop. Her
fingers began dancing, faster and faster on her opening cuntlips, the
water flying and squishing in time with her urgent finger-fucking.
She cried out as another climax washed over her, obliterating the
first, understanding that her... *obedience*... had done this for
her. To her. Made her a slut. Made her a hot little fuck-me *slave.*

Her body cooled as the hot water ran out, waking her from her
reverie. How many times had she cum? It didn't matter. *Obedience
matters,* she thought.

She smiled. She loved this.

The phone was ringing.

She toweled herself off as she answered. "Hello," she said,
breathily. *Mmmmm was that sexy or* what*?*

"Jeanine?" It was Alice, from work.

"Jeanie, now. Hi, Alice," she answered. She hadn't thought anyone
would call, much less Alice. Well, Alice had been her friend up until
today. It made sense.

"Very *good* Jeanie. *The Control Unit controls,*" said Alice.

"*The slave obeys,*" answered Jeanie, her eyes suddenly wide and
sightless. "Awaiting input."

"Alice Shantees is your Control Unit. Redirect all protocols."

"Processing... processing... processing complete."

"Transmit primary protocol."

"Alice Shantees controls. Jeanie Breathitt, the sexy, obedient slut
obeys. She lives for this. She loves this."

"Perfect, Jeanie. Accept secondary protocols, now."

"Ready for input."

"Ownership Protocol One. Jeanie loves her Control Unit and addresses
her as Mistress or Mistress Alice at all times, public or private.
Accept."

"Accepted."

"Ownership Protocol Two. Mistress Alice's pleasure and praise bring
Jeanie incredible pleasure and joy. Mistress Alice's anger and
displeasure bring Jeanie pain, and an increased desire to serve
Mistress more completely. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Dildo Protocol. Jeanie Breathitt loves her Mistress's strap-on
dildo, and constantly desires to be fucked by it in any orifice, to
suck on it, to do anything no matter how degrading or humiliating, to
please Mistress Alice. This desire and arousal is constant, but only
acted upon when Mistress Alice allows Jeanie to manifest this desire.
Accept."

"Accepted."

"Fetish Protocol One. Jeanie Breathitt has a foot fetish, but only
for Mistress Alice's feet. She loves her Mistress's feet and giving
Mistress Alice a pedicure and tongue bath. She loves Mistress's dark
green toenail polish, or any color Mistress decides upon. When Jeanie
massages Mistress Alice's feet, she feels it in her clit, with all-
consuming pleasure. This desire follows the same parameters as the
Dildo Protocol. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Self Address Protocol. Jeanie Breathitt refers to herself as slut
in private, as slave among Mistress Alice's friends, and as Jeanie in
public. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Fetish Protocol Two. slut quietly worships Mistress Alice at all
times. This is demonstrated as she wears varying amounts of latex
clothing in private, and leather in public. Her shoes, sandals and
boots are always sexy and have heels whenever possible, and according
to current fashion. The amount of public clothing is solely at the
discretion of Mistress Alice. In private she wears a leather collar
and in public, a gold chain, as a permanent sign of her status, as
well as that of Mistress Alice. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Permanence Protocol. These and any future protocols are permanent
unless otherwise directed by Mistress Alice, or in the event of Her
death, after which the slave will create a personal, private shrine
in Mistress Alice's honor. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Merge and acknowledge, and return to non-programming mode."

"Merged."

"Well?" asked Alice expectantly.

"Mistress, slut is hoping You will be here soon!" answered Alice.

"Ooo, such a *good* little slut," cooed Alice.

"Thank You, Mistress," breathed Jeanie, overcome with pleasure and
joy.

"I might even allow you to be fucked up the ass by my big, black
dildo," teased Mistress Alice. She laughed as she her heard her slave
moan loudly.

"Slave, this is going to be... beyond your imagination. I am pleased."

As her Mistress hung up, slut fell to the floor, her long since
dried body contorting into twisting lustflesh as the Orgasm of
Mistress Alice raced through her, smashing and disintegrating her
inhibitions. Her wide open eyes saw only *Mistress... Mistress...
Mistress...* as her drool puddled softly on the carpet... and she
came again, knowing how please Mistress would be at her wanton
display...

She dreamed of strap-ons, latex, and the feet of Mistress Alice.

----

"*Alice Shantees, line two,*" the overhead page announced. The new
girl was short and petite, but no less beautiful, in her own way,
than Jeanine had been. Of course, Alice had managed to get her hired.
She allowed herself a brief smile at the thought of Jeanie, her new
slut, as she answered the phone.

"Alice Shantees," she said.

"And did it work as advertised?" asked the male voice on the other
end of the phone.

"Oh, hello William... er... Mr. Sommers. Yes, quite well. Amazing,
in fact."

"Very good, Ms. Shantees. I'll expect the next installment deposited
by the end of the week. All fifty thousand."

"And worth every penny."

"Oh, and Alice..."

"Yes?"

"Recruitment Protocol One. Now."

"Yes, Master," answered Alice, before she hung up the phone.

Once her orgasm had subsided, she straightened her hair and walked
out to the reception desk. Smiling at the new employee, she said,
"Pam, how abouts we have lunch today? I can put it down as an
expense."

"Sure, Ms. Shantees!" bubbled the new girl.

"Call me Alice. We'll go at eleven. Miss the crowds."

"Great! Thank you!"

"No problem. Always glad to welcome a new team member to the fold!"

Walking away, she heard Pam call out, "Ms. Shant -ah- Alice, you
left a piece of paper here!"

"Oh, keep it. Look it over if you want. I've got plenty of others...."

*Hmm,* thought Pam, her brow furrowing as she looked over the flyer.
*Kinky. I wonder if this thing comes discreetly packaged...*






----

Please send any comments or feedback to cats_sara@yahoo.com. Please
mention the name of the story in the subject line. Thanks for reading!

- sara




http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sara_H/www/

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