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My Ai works takes
centre stage with
the sequel to a classic
and simple tale.
What would happen
if you were caught in
your grandmas secret
wardrobe.
I know what I'd like
to happen.
Hi Everyone
Hope you are all very weel.I have had an up and down week, but hopefully things can now settle down.
Lets get into the completed version of a piece previewed over on patreon a few weeks ago.
Deep inside the lower levels of the Sisterhoods Californian base, Andy is a "Guest" of the Sisterhood and this time he is definately in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He might think he is invisible........ he might soon well be.
XXX
Andy
An updated version is on its way. It now reads:
ReplyDeleteIntending to take a quick glimpse, Andy found himself taking longer than intended. He stood in the doorway transfixed. What met his eye caused his jaw to drop. He’d never seen so much latex outside of the stockroom at B⚥y?. Latex nurses in flowing Edwardian dresses with puffed up power shoulders and blouson sleeves, a mistress in latex with a transparent latex smock, tanks of liquid latex, pumps of liquid latex, sprays of liquid latex and, most remarkable of all, latex dolls. Living latex dolls. Further back a helmeted boy was being sprayed with black latex that congealed against his skin. Glistening helmeted dolls in high heels were strung up in a row. Nurses were administering enemas or worse to them. They were all plugged or being plugged. The dolls were wailing. It was impossible to tell whether they were crying in pain or emitting moans of orgasmic pleasure. Other nurses were inspecting and polishing their finished creations.
Given the hum of activity, he assumed no-one would notice him but he had been spotted. The throb of the pumps and the keening howls from the latex dolls meant he couldn’t hear the supervising mistress say to her nurses, “Pay him no concern. I shall deal with our little snooper later.” Rachel pulled him back from the doorway. She was still crying and hyperventilating, gasping for breath. He led her back along the corridor. “What on earth was that?” he asked when he’d closed the door to the stairwell.
“That’s the Droneroom,” replied a still tearful Rachel. “It’s where they take bad sissies for correction.”
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The updated versioin will follow soon.
S xxx