Chapter 7
Breast Strokes
Dorothy shuffled her way in on chained feet. She was naked and wore her hands cuffed behind her back as I did. Behind her was Tom Fredrick's. With a grin he made her walk over to stand beside me.
"I told you it would be easy to kidnap any girl if you set your mind to it. I just walked in and took this lovely creature out."
I could just stare in disbelief while Dorothy blushed and averted her eyes from the male gloating before us. She had lived such a sheltered life before and just wasn't used to being a prisoner. She had to wonder if she had been rescued by this handsome male or taken to a deeper captivity.
"And you should have seen the face on Avis Bonner when I walked right past her, carrying Dorothy away." He laughed as he sat down on the couch to view with unrestrained joy his two possessions.
"Please," began Dorothy weakly, "I'm grateful for you rescuing me but could you please let me go now?"
"No." The reply was simple and straight to the point.
"Well, when will you let me go?" she asked.
"When I get tired of you in bed." He looked her up and down in a way to make any girl blush. "That may be a long time."
"Please, Mr. Fredrick's, need I remind you that the SC is not without power. The girls will not let this invasion of our homes go unanswered."
"That so?"
"Yes," she continued, warming up. "I should think that you will very soon find out the power of the SC in a way you will not like."
"Is that a threat?"
"Let me go, you bastard." Dorothy immediately realized her mistake and turned a little pale.
Tom just continued that grin. "I think a lesson is in order. You both are my slaves and you had better remember that. Bend over."
The order was unexpected. Dorothy knew what was expected of a slave in this situation but it was hard for her to emotionally accept and obey. She had been made a slave only a short time before and was still used to giving orders, not taking them. But she saw in his eyes that he was serious. She bend over.
The first stroke took her by surprise. She had expected it but not the terrible fire and pain that exploded in her bottom.
"I've told Angelique about my preference for whips on a girl's bottom rather than canes or riding crops. Probably hurts a little more but, well, that's the plan, isn't it?"
Dorothy had stood up and hopped around with the first stroke. It was very hard for her to force herself to bend over. The second stroke brought tears to her eyes and a gasp of pain that was close to a scream. Her tears flowed as she bend over again.
My heart went out for the poor girl. It was my guess that she had not yet been whipped by Avis and just wasn't prepared for this. She fell to the carpet with the next stroke, and the gasp was a scream. She struggled to her feet at our master's order and readied herself for the next cut.
After the fifth stroke, Dorothy was allowed to stand next to me.
"Just so you'll know I'm serious. But I can be kind, too. Every evening, after I've given your bottoms a whipping, I'll put you two together so you can cry on each other's shoulders. Now, what was that you were saying about the SC coming to get you?"
It was an effort for Dorothy to get her voice under control but the sobs did stop. "The girls will be mad."
"I'm sure," Tom replied. "Go now, what will they do?"
"Well, for one thing the girls might get together and all come here to take us back. I don't think you could do much about twenty-five angry women."
Tom grinned. "Go on, what else?"
"Most of the girls are quite rich. And powerful. They hired a couple of gangsters to kidnap Connie, guys who do that all the time for money. They could hire a dozen such men to come here and take us back." She shuttered. "They might even punish us for something we didn't do."
Tom nodded. "Anything else?"
"Let me go. I think I could talk the girls into some kind of a compromise. I'll come back and be your slave again. What I want to avoid is a sort of a war."
"Come off it. Those bitches would have you stripped and in chains in a minute!" Tom appeared to consider for a moment. "I'll trade you back to them in consideration of them forgetting about Angelique. When I'm through with Angelique I want to know that she's really free and won't be kidnapped again or hunted by the SC or anyone else. How 'bout talking on the phone?"
Dorothy looked first at me then at the man who held her prisoner. "Very well, if that's what you want. It won't do any good."
Tom dialed the number and held the receiver to his prisoner's ear, leaning close to pick up the message. I watched poor Dorothy's face and her pleadings, until Tom took the receiver himself to speak forcibly. When he returned the phone to its cradle he looked at his two girls in disgust.
"Those little bitches think they own the earth." His voice held contempt. "I've a damned good mind to kidnap the whole lot of them one by one and whip some sense into their pussies and heads. Best thing is to forget them, they can't do anything."
Poor, dear Dorothy! So far as the SC went, we were both escape prisoners and subject to repossession. In a month Tom would set me free and I could look forward to the club getting me back. And Dorothy would remain his prisoner for as long as he chose.
I was glad when Tom broke the somber reflections. "I told you girls I'd give you some time together. It's getting late so I can't take you down and put you in the cage." Instead he locked Dorothy to another ring in the same wall as I was tethered. "I've fixed you close so you can do whatever you want to do, except what you probably want to do most of all. There will be no more of that while you belong to me."
He patted our bottoms before going away. Dorothy and I kissed in a great thankfulness at being so close, our breasts rubbing together in a very nice way. Even when excitation told us to stop, we remained pressed close together to find what comfort we could.
"I won't use that beastly four letter word but Tom is going to rape me, isn't he?"
"I expect so, he's done it to me already and he's very good at it. Dorothy, it's not the end of the world, you know."
"Avis Bonner told me how angry the bunch was over loosing you and now Tom's stolen me as well. There'll be a bunch of hornets ready to stink." I could feel her quivering. "Don't you see the spot I'm in? If the girls rescue me, I'll have to finish a year's sentence. If they don't succeed in that, Tom Fredrick's will keep me for goodness knows how long. Do you think we can talk him into letting both of us go free at the end of your thirty days?"
"I doubt it but we can try."
She managed a snicker. "The trouble is I don't know which one I want, or if I want either of them. I mean, the girls might punish me. But Tom might whip me, too. Would he?"
"Damned right he will."
"Which one would punish me the least?"
"The girls, some of them are kind. I'm sure Tom doesn't think of himself as cruel but his whip hurts."
"Has he given you any chance to escape?"
"Gosh, no. This handcuff and leg-iron routine is foolproof."
It was terrible not to be able to give Dorothy some good news. We were a pair of helplessly chained prisoners, now of a man instead of a bunch of sex hungry girls. But we were owned either way.
It was lovely to press close to this girl. We whispered possibilities back and forth without reaching any kind of conclusion. When Tom Fredrick's unsnapped our collars to take us to bed, I have to admit to quivering delight but was pretty sure poor Dorothy was viewing it as rape, and was probably wondering how bad it would hurt. I wished I could help but it was too late now. Two slavegirls made metallic music as they walked towards what Queen Victoria would have considered a fate worse than death.
Tom had already installed a second chain for his new captive and snapped it shut on her collar. He then snapped me and brought Dorothy's blush back to life by stripping as naked as we were. After a single horrified glance at male genitals, Dorothy hung her head.
"Come on, Angelique, my sweet," Tom commanded happily. "Show this lost lesbian how it's done." He sneered, "She probably doesn't even know."
I placed myself on the bed and made myself as comfortable as a chained girl can while Dorothy stared in fascinated horror. The random thought raced through my mind that Dorothy was probably consigning me to a horrible whipping when she got me back under her control. Perhaps I did look a little wanton. Perhaps it was the smile on my face.
The thought that Tom might soon convert Dorothy away from lesbianism was a comfort to me but I was more interested in that more than ready rod. I spread my legs as wide as the golden shackle permitted.
When I blinked my way back into the real world, Dorothy was still standing and staring in what I suspected was a blend of disgust and desire.
"Angelique, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
"Oh, I am," I said.
I was suddenly shy, not wishing to witness the shame of a girl I loved. "Please chain me somewhere out of sight," I pleaded. "Dorothy will hate having me watch."
"Too damned bad! You'll watch, sweetheart, and she'll like it. Was fun, wasn't it?"
I am sure it would be useless for any girl to try and think only pure thoughts and feel only revolt at the nearness of a male tool about to pierce her vagina. When it actually entered her, there was no chance of Dorothy maintaining a dispassionate separation of her mind and body. Tom's vigorous thrustings quickly had the chained girl responding and every trace of rebellion wiped from her face. Her eyes closed and she made tiny sounds of delight. Thereafter I knew I was watching the age old battle of the sexes and one more phallus victory.
That night Tom Fredrick's slept happily between a pair of chained and naked girls who owed him much.
Had the sortie been successful, it would have had about it a sort of poetic justice. In the morning Tom announced an absence due to business and locked us both in a downstairs cage. As an emphasis he locked a chain around Dorothy's middle and another to the belt I would wear forever. There was plenty of chain so they did not matter much. At least that's the way we figured it when he kissed us goodbye and locked us in. Once more alone, my former mistress and I dived straight away into speculations on our captivity and why the devil Tom had added the heavy chains around our tummies and anchored them to the heavy ringbolt in the concrete wall.
We were busy whispering when the door opened and Avis Bonner walked in.
Avis was not alone, she was followed by two large girls and Betty Harmon. "We've come to take you back home, darlings," Avis announced happily. "That idiot man has driven away somewhere so now's our chance. We'll play the same trick on him that he played us. Except you two will walk to the car instead of being carried. Sorry it's taken so long."
They had all sorts of keys and a bolt cutter. The cage door yielded to one of the keys. After some kissing and hugs, they went to work on Tom's fresh chains on our waists. None of their keys would open the padlocks. Dorothy and I could do nothing to help. We stood and watched. And we could not help but notice that none of the girls had done a thing about our handcuffs or leg irons. And no doubt they were happy to find us still packaged for their convenience. They were also happy to discover the golden restraints upon my hands and feet.
Since the keys failed, they now inserted my tethering chain into the jaws of the bolt cutter. Gleefully, they pushed down hard.
Nothing happened. When the girls tried another link the first one failed to show even a scratch. After much effort neither Dorothy's nor my chains had parted and we were still prisoners to the wall. The SC was not equipped to deal with his heavy duty bondage.
"The son of a bitch must have figured on something like this," Betty Harmon exclaimed disgustedly. "What do we do now!"
"I said we should have brought a couple of men with tools."
"The only way we'll get them is to smash the concrete to get that ring bolt loose. We can't even cut away Angelique's lovely belt."
The four girls looked at each other and us in bafflement and anguish. "Could we phone and get help," Avis suggest,
"There isn't time," Betty Harmon said. "The bastard has us beat this time and what we'd best do is lock the door again and creep away as if we'd never been here. If these two don't say a word he'll never know. That way they won't get punished. Maybe we can come back another time with more equipment or a couple of men." She gazed at Dorothy and I. "Darlings, I'm so terribly sorry."
The girls did not give up easily, trying their keys again. So absorbed were we in these efforts we failed to see or hear the presence of our man. By the time realization dawned, Tom Fredrick's had the cage door locked with the four would-be rescuers safe inside.
Happily, he used a bit of chain and a padlock to insure the closing of his trap. Not a single girl spoke, so complete was his surprised on them. None protested or threatened. It was Tom Fredrick's who spoke first.
"I'm so glad you came. I know you would so I was waiting." He picked on Avis as the leader. "What are you expecting to happen next?"
"If you have any sense at all, you'll unlock this door and let us all go."
"I'm afraid I'm a bit short on sense today. The last thing I intend is to turn you lose. Think again."
"The club won't let you get away with this. You really are playing with fire Mr. Fredrick's." Avis sounded desperate.
"Playing with fire!" The phrase appeared to please. "A nice idea. I'll warm my hands before I warm your rumps. How's that grab you?" Not a single girl answered. Dorothy and I were simply an audience. Our four rescuers looked at each other with fear in their eyes and allowed the Master to once more take the floor. "Now, here's what I'm going to do," he said heavily. "I'm going to whip those pretty little bottoms of yours before sending you home." He beamed cheerfully at all present. "When you get back you'll tell them I'll do the same thing to any of the rest of you who have the nerve to enter my house without invitation."
"You wouldn't dare," said Betty Harmon without conviction.
"The first thing I want of you is your clothes. Throw them out through the bars. I'll put them in a pile so you can have them later."
"You're dreaming."
"There's no way we're going to do that."
The denials were serious. Even I had to wonder how Tom would impose his will on four healthy young women, two of which were brought along because they were the largest members of the Sensuality Club. My doubt was needless, Tom had things well in hand.
"You almost have to refuse, don't you," he agreed. "But we've got lots of time so you can stay behind those bars until you decided to strip. You may take several days. In the meantime you'll get neither food nor drink. Think about it."
Four clothed girls looked at each other in dismay. "The son of a bitch means it!"
"And he can get away with it. Oh, shit!"
The four looked at me and asked, "You know him best, Angelique. Will he do "Yes, he will. He's a Force."
There was now a debate which beat back and forth within the bars to arrive at an obvious conclusion. "Let's do it now and get it over with."
There was unhappy agreement and promises to go home and get help once he let them go.
"Angelique, darling, will he hurt us? I mean, real bad?"
"He certainly will. He doesn't use a cane. I don't know what to tell you to do. He can do whatever he likes with the whole bunch of us."
We were still arguing when our master returned. "Well!"
There were a few moments of silence before one of the girls slipped out of her dress and tossed it to the waiting man. Slowly and hating every second, the other three followed her lead while Tom looked eagerly on. When four naked girls were trying to hide behind their hands, the male gathered up the discarded clothes and disappeared with them. When he returned he had another demand.
"The club has sentenced Angelique to be branded. I want your assurance that will not be done."
"What does it matter? You've got her, we haven't. She's safe. Besides it takes a vote by the whole club to do what you want."
"Angelique goes free at the end of thirty days but I'm holding on to Dorothy Dawson. The day you repossess Angelique will be the day I bum some letters of my own in Dorothy's skin. You wouldn't want that—would you?"
"All right then, no brand," Avis said with heat. She turned to smile at me. "Angelique, dear, we're going to get you back. If we don't reclaim you before this man turns you lose, we'll get you afterwards. We all love you and simply will not let you go."
"Well, that looks after that," Tom said. "The only thing left to do is whip you bottoms. Just be patient a moment."
Six girls watched a man preparing to whip for girl's bottoms. At the same time he passed us comments that we be informed.
"I'd keep the whole jolly lot of you if I weren't a practical man. But life is mostly compromise and you can't push too hard in one direction you'll get hit from another. Wouldn't you agree that if I keep you for visitors, that club of yours might get so mad that they'd do something stupid? If I let you go home, they'll respect my judgment. And you can show them your bottoms so they'll know I'm not a man to mess with. These little whippings I am about to administer will nicely fill the bill."
The four new nudes were still blushing and trying to cover three places with two hands. Since I had been nude for over a year it was no big thing to me. I almost laughed at these girl's attempts. But poor Dorothy was as upset as they. Our master's voice continued.
"There's a fellow I know who would play quite a price for the privilege of putting you four in a whore house. I don't suppose you'd enjoy that much. The only reason I'm not doing that is to prove to you I'm a reasonable man who believes in moderation. I'll make sure your ass is a pretty purple but, unless you provoke me with wisecracks, that's all that will happen to you. Remember this and know yourselves lucky while it's happening."
We surveyed the suspended hooks with misgivings, having little doubt as to their use. Tom Fredrick's had thought of everything and no commanded, "I want the bunch of you to get over to the far wall. When I open the door one of you will come out. If all of you rush the door, I'll just slam it and you can spend a day or so until I ask you again."
"He's paying us a tribute." said Betty Harmon. "The bastard figures he can handle one of us but not four."
Betty Harmon was the first one to step forward as the door was opened. She offered her hands to be bound without a word. A hook came down to snare the rope and raise her arms to relief her of the effort of trying to cover anything.
"Hey, stop it, you're lifting me off the ground!" came her shocked cry.
"That's right, sweetheart, give you a chance to kick. Wiggled all you please and I'll catch you with the whip when you come around. Ever been whipped?"
"Of course not! Let my feet down, you mustn't do this."
It is a sad fact that a naked girt suspended from her wrists is often more lovely than at any other time. It was so with Betty, who was now busy peddling an invisible bike in her efforts to find the floor. Tom watched this approvingly for several moments before he struck.
I'm been whipped so often but the whole performance still fascinates. It's largely sexual, of course, the thunk of thong on flesh lights a fire in anyone's loins, even that of the girl who's flesh is marked by the leather kiss. Betty Harmon heaved herself up by bound wrists in pure shock and emitted a chocked scream, more of anger than of pain.
Tom Fredrick's did exactly as he had promised. He stood still and lashed out as the struggling beauty presented a good angle. The cuts were swift and hard. I doubt I would have accepted those blows without screaming. Betty Harmon held out until the fourth stroke, showing the pain mostly by a crazed and jerky dance she performed at the end of her tether. After the fourth she screamed. Her bottom began burning. As her punishment progressed she no longer tried to hold in the screams. It was shameful and beautiful in some strange way.
Without pause, Tom Fredrick's administered twenty strokes, turning her bottom purples. When finished he left her to hang and opened the cage door. "Next?"
One of the larger girls was number two. I knew she wanted to fight but didn't dare. Her wrists were swiftly bound and soon her feet were lifted from the floor. By some miracle she contrived only gasps and moans as her flesh was wealed and the scarlet streaks gave way to purple. But her dance of pain was every bit as vivid as Betty Harmon's had been. Again and again she raised herself up by the bound wrists, only to jerk back down. When the twenty strokes had done she was left to hang.
The male demand of "Next!" extracted Avis Bonner. She gave me a wry grin in passing before offering her own nakedness to be bound and suspended with the other two. As her wrists were tied, she addressed Tom Fredrick's quietly.
"I think you're making a mistake, Mr. Fredrick's. This won't deter, it will only enrage the rest of the membership." It was the tone of sweet reason.
"Will it now!" The masculine voice had a ring of steel. "That's one of the remarks I didn't want. You've earned an extra five."
I saw Avis flinch and longed to cry aloud in bitter protest. But fear kept me silent. I could soon be hanging with the rest. Dorothy and I exchanged horrified glances as Avis's feet left the floor and the frightful ritual began again. I think we all winced with every stroke.
Avis screamed throughout her punishment. From the frightful purple welts I know he was hitting her far harder than he need. After twenty he paused. 'This could have been the end of it for you. You were lippy and I won't tolerate a lippy broad. Now you get your extra five."
"Yes, I understand." Even in her agony. Avis Bonner's voice was quietly resigned.
The five were needless cruel. When Tom left the sweat-drenched and vividly beaten nude, Avis was weeping. The opening of the cage door and the cry of "Next" was automatic. When the seat of number four finally bore the vivid strips of male disapproval, its owner was allow to hang in anguish while my master turned his attention to Dorothy Dawson in the cage.
"I've changed my mind, Miss Dawson," he said politely. "I aim to make that club of yours to forget this whole thing and leave Angelique and me alone. No more invasions of this house and no more kidnappings beyond." He sighed. "I had intended to keep you but I will allow you to go back to the club if, of your own free will, you ask me to whip you the same as I have these girls. Seems to me I'm offering you a pretty fair deal?"
She, too, flinched under the impact of this unexpected proportion. But freedom is a powerful lure she could not resist. "Thank you, I accept. Please whip me in the same way you have whipped my friends and send me home with them.
Her surrender was exquisitely simple.
Alone in the cage I pressed my breasts against the bars to watch. If Dorothy had expected freedom she would be disappointed. For the whipping of her bottom there was no need to free her hands. Tom simply raised them up behind her back in the manner I know all too well. When she was bent wickedly forward, he messaged the tight, young bottom before taking up his stance. He then whipped poor, darling Dorothy Dawson. She did not even have the relief of kicking or jerking herself up by bound hands as did our would be rescuers. True, she could used chained feet in evasive but scorned so useless an act and with extraordinary courage, considering how virgin her skin was to the thong, did no more than kick at shackled feet and sway from side to side as purple took the place of red and moans turned to cries of distress.
Having delivered Dorothy's pain, he lowered her punished arms, unlocked the handcuffs, and took the leg irons off, to leave Dorothy standing in disbelief. One hand went back to explore the throbbing weals which were her tribute to the male. Tom then lowered Betty Harmon to the floor. His command was curt, "Get yourselves dressed."
"But I haven't any clothes," Dorothy protested.
"Then go home naked."
Three nudes hung in silent doubt. I gazed longingly through the bars at a freedom I was not to share. When Betty Harmon was once more clothed, the second girl was lowered and told to dress. With two girls back to normal, my master thrust at them a swift decision. "Here's your beautiful Dorothy Dawson, and I'll give you handcuffs and leg irons. You can fasten her or give her freedom, I don't care. But if you chose to give her freedom, she'll walk out of here stark naked and without a dime."
It might have been a cruel decision to have to make but was not a decision for the girls. "Darling, if you think you can get the best of us, let's have a fight and see who wins. Don't forget, you're still under sentence and that twelve months of slavery still holds."
I had to admire their single-minded purpose. Behind them was the power of the club!
I think if Dorothy would have been clothed she would have elected to walk out the door and take her chances on being repossessed and punished as a runaway slave. But naked is terrible for a girl, you feel so terribly defenseless. We watched until she said unhappily, "Okay, keep me prisoner. I'll go back with you." She sighed miserably as she turned her back and offered her hands. When her feet were ironed she was back to square one with nothing to look forward to save a year's enslavement. But at the end of twelve months she would be free and once more a mistress in the club.
Feeling more and more alone behind the bars I watched my fellow members get dressed while Dorothy stood to one side, chained, obviously feeling low, and probably wondering what the girls would do to her when she was once more back in her house. It is amazing what handcuffs and leg irons do to a girl. The poor darling was obviously already very much a slave. Once more her wrists were busy with their steel shackles.
I cannot tell how the message passed from girl to girl but immediately all four were fully clothed they rushed Tom Fredrick's in outraged fury. For an instant he disappeared beneath a pile of girls who kicked and clawed and bit. With some men it might have worked. Four healthy young women against a single male might have placed most men at an disadvantage. But Tom Fredrick's must have picked up a sign somewhere and was ready for the rush. For a few moments I thought the girls would win, but he prevailed. For a man, when necessary, does not hesitate to use his fists while a woman can only kick and claw and, if she tries to hit, deliver pitifully weak blows. Superior strength also allowed him to man-handle the girls around, pulling an arm behind a back here and clicking a handcuff on a wrist there. Suddenly all four girls lay panting on the floor, all eight arms locked in steel behind backs.
My heart went out to them, freedom had been so close for them and was snatched away by their own stupid actions. All were silent as they awaited sentence. Tom Fredrick's grinned at a couple of breasts hanging out of tore clothes. "You girls don't have a lick of sense," he casually informed. "What the hell do I do with you now!"
"Please send us home," said one girl. "We'll apologize and promise to behave ourselves. We won't bother you again."
"You're damned right you won't!" My master seemed little inclined to sympathy. "Seems like you girls need breaking in. I thought sending you back with a whipped ass would be enough, but I guess I was wrong. Well, never mind, I've thought of something else."
Tom Fredrick's must have purchased handcuffs in wholesale quantities. I never saw were he got all those pairs from and he had done it right in front of me. He then arranged the handcuffs so that each girl had her left wrist locked to the bars of the cage and her right wrist free. "Strip!" came his sharp command.
Slowly, sadly, they removed her clothes. That being done, her master bound her wrists with rope from a drawer and cinched her elbows cruelly tight. Next he removed the hook from a suspension rope and noosed it around her neck to compel her to stand erect with breasts out thrust.
"I suppose you know what I'm going to do?"
She knew! So did the rest of us. Confirmation came. "You've guessed where I'm going to whip. Ten on each breast. Maybe by that time you'll learn. In case you're figuring on leaping around all over, I'll give you a choice. Stand still and stick them out for ten each or leap around for twenty. Don't say I never try to be helpful."
What a choice! It was far more cruel than binding a girl so she can't move. And I wonder how any girl could possibly stick out her breasts to have them whipped. It was just too much.
But before any of us could say a word, Tom flourished a small but wicked little and cut it across the right breast of the girl so cruelly bound. As though carved in marble, the girl stood still and continued to stand still as stroke after stroke left imprints on her lovely mounds. It was an amazing demonstration. She whimpered and gasped throughout but never once screamed or sought to move her breast out of harm's way.
It was very simple. Tom now freed that bound girl but handcuffed her wrists to the bars of my cage again. Then he took Avis and bound her arms as before.
I could well understand how a girl would try her best to stand still for ten but I was not a bit sure I could do it myself. I realized Tom was using a special kind of whip to do no injury while delivering a healthy sting. Avis cried out in pain. She stamped her feet. She even screamed. But she stood her ground bravely and was rewarded with only ten on each breast.
Then there was the next girl. Tom took his time, enjoying each tightening of the ropes, each swish of the whip, and each gasp of pain. When four pairs of breasts had been reddened and their owners tethered to the cage, they were told to stand at attention and face their captor. Tom took each girl's photo and then of them as a group. No girl said thank you but all obeyed quickly when told to face the bars to give Tom's camera the opportunity to record bottoms terribly wealed. Even Dorothy was included in that shot.
My loins responded to such a sight with a heat that shamed me. How could I get excited about my friend's suffering? Yet there is was. I had never seen so much battered flesh in my life. These girls would not be comfortable sitting down for a while and would prefer not to wear too tight a bra, either.
Tom freed captive wrists and told them to dress and depart without delay.
I was suddenly alone.