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Disconnections
- a series of stories -
by Eve Adorer
Sulina Toledo – Part TWO
Next day the sensuously scented Sulina Toledo swayed her
just-below-knee-length black-tweed-pencil-skirt-clung buttocks and thighs, into
the offices of ‘The Ntobi Courier’.
Her lovely bosom was testing out a cool cotton cerise shirt
for its tensile strength. The shirt’s very life was being saved by the
retaining strength of the same cantilevered bra that was torpedoing-out
Sulina’s heavy breasts. The sleeves of her shirt were short. It could thus be
seen that her lovely arms were tanned, with their uppers sweetly sculpted. She
had used gym weights judiciously, and deliciously effectively.
The contrasting weight of materials, the wintry below waist
and summer style top-out was a style choice. It was current fashion. So was the
scarlet pillbox hat, with the black net drawn down from it casting shade on her
hauntingly attractive face.
From the skirt and hat at least, one could almost see her in
a late 1940s movie. Indeed, she was surely only missing the yappy toy poodle
under her arm. The long strong legs too were in black and white. The seams of
her black stockings were on tanned white legs. The ‘clumpy’ red leather high
heels were old fashioned looking also, to say that they were brand new too.
Sulina’s torrent of tormenting wavy blonde curls tumbled
over each other as they outraced each other to roll down to just below her
saucy buttocks.
“Good morning to you Miss Sulina! My oh
my, but do you look a million-dollars?!” the cheeky cheerful desk clerk
greeted, with her cherubic smile.
“Why: I thenk you Missy Jane there”, Sulina gently teased,
in a bad cod Southern States drawl, prompted by the clerk’s insistent use of
Sulina’s given name as if it were her surname.
“Any messages Abubaka?” she then smiled, with the genuine
sweetness that was the real Sulina.
“Just the one Miss Sulina. Old
Firenza herself said to be sure to go right up and straight in, next time you
dropped by. She’ll have finished the editor’s conference by now. Hope you
haven’t been a naughty girl. Last I saw our dearly beloved editor,
she was in one foul mood!”
“You mean you can tell when she’s not?!” Sulina quipped over
her slender shoulder as her erotically clicking stilettos headed her graceful
body to the elevator.
………………………
“Good to see you Sulina. You’re looking just great!” Firenza
Peoria greeted, as she chewed on a huge
“Cheesus! Look at me will you. I’m
scrabbling round for a frigging lighter, and I gave up smoking new year gone
for chrisakes!” she then added, after she had recovered herself from her
unthinking reflex, and sat square facing out over her cluttered oak desk.
She now threw the cigar from her mouth onto the desk. It
rolled off the piled papers and dropped on the floor. She moved to pick it up,
could not see where it had gone, and waved a hand as if to say ‘oh fuck it
then’, before she again drew her attention to the lovely Sulina’, leaving the
cigar to its fate.
Firenza Peoria, a thirty-year old afro-American of
considerable loveliness, had been expressly appointed by the Courier’s owner,
Kerrerer Prachet.
Kerrerer did not usually give second chances, but she knew
It was intended as a punishment.
“Whatdya want Sulina, I got me a plate full, and some, just
now? You gonna give my photographer some intelligent ass on page five, you
bewitching witch, or you gonna pain my butt some more? Which is it?”
“I understood you wanted to see me Firenza”, Sulina answered, cool as her cotton summer top.
“Oh cripes yes. Your column Sulina: ‘Yesterday’s Tomorrow’? It’s out”,
“Sorry kid. That was a bit blunt I know. I got ‘gossip’
lined up for those inches. You can do gossip ifin you wanna. It’s
crud, but I gotta keep up circulation. You’ll find another job before I
relocate that friggin cigar just now. You’re shite-bright kiddo. Your column is
your own copyright. Take ‘Yesterday’s Tomorrow’ to the
intelligent papers. Try the weeklies. Honey, I hope it makes out for you
some….”
As she left the editor’s office, Sulina turned, and saw that
Firenza Peoria had found her cigar and was lighting it.
And, as she walked to the elevator, she heard a growl of:
“Oh for chrisakes, what the fuck am I doing?”
………………………
“A whole year?”, Cindana repeated,
stunned.
Sulina’s long-time live-in lover, a stunning mulatto native
Senabran, with wonderful dark brown eyes, a profuse confusion of brunette
curls, and negress’ lips that said prayers even when they were closed, was used
to her companion wondering off on assignments, but never before for such a
lengthy time.
“How the hell am I going to manage without you?” Cindana
expressed in her express distress.
“You’ll manage without me very well. You always did. You
always will. I love you. You do know that don’t you? I do love you Cindana,
never ever doubt it”, Sulina confirmed with genuine soul.
Cindana knew that to be true, but it did not stop the lovely
twenty-year-old from testing its limits: “You love me, and yet you can
disappear for a year, just like that. What kind of love is that?” she snapped.
Then she realised the hurtfulness of what she had just said,
and ran to Sulina, wrapped her arms around the older girl, and sobbed: “I’m
sorry Sulina. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m so sorry”.
The gentle kisses that followed spoke more of true love than
any mere words could convey.
Cindana was comforted. Her tears had almost dried, but she
wiped away a last vestige with a lovely forefinger crooked.
“A complete ban on communication will be the hardest bit”,
she then croaked, before clearing her throat, to make her voice sound braver
when she next spoke.
“I think its best to assume that. But, if I’m allowed
visitors, you’ll be the first to know, that’s for absolutely sure, you darling
girl”, Sulina reassured.
“They can’t make you stay in can they? Oh god I just
couldn’t bear losing you forever. I’d die Sulina: truly I would!” Cindana
answered, with her anxieties rising to the fore once more.
“You’re not going to die, you silly. You’re going to start
on our book. Your part will tell what it was like to lose a lover to the
Sisters of Sisters. Mine will have to wait till I’ve done the year as a novice,
and found out what its all about from the inside. What
we both have to keep under wraps, is that this is all a put up job. You mustn’t
let on that I went in for what I could get out of it. That’s all”, Sulina
repeated, she being anxious about word getting out, and her scoop being
scuppered.
………………………
The interview had already lasted an hour and a half. The
Abbess, Sister Mercy, seemed to be singularly unconvinced by Sulina’s plea of a
‘road to
She had not asked one telling question; she’d fired off over
two-dozen.
Sulina was assuming that she was about to go back to Cindana
and apologise that the whole escapade had fallen through, when Sister Mercy
suddenly announced:
“Sulina, I hope you’re as sincere as you are beautiful, for
you need to be sincere to enter god’s service, and you must know that your
beauty will be buried alive forever: forever if you convert after the initiate
year that is. The price a truly lovely girl like you pays above all, is to surrender her beauty to the veil and robes.”
“That means celibacy my child. Complete and absolute
abstinence: a renewal of your virginity. You will say goodbye to physical and
mental love in the form that manifests itself in sexual intercourse, and above
all, sexual monocourse. Masturbation will be your strongest temptation. It is
as forbidden as it is abhorrent. Have no doubts
whatsoever, masturbation is not and will not be tolerated!” This was the first
time that Sulina had heard the sweet Abbess raise her voice.
“I have no doubt that you are a passionate girl, with all
the physical and emotional needs of a young woman with god’s full equipage for
sexual love. It is this that you will find the hardest to bear. It is this that
you will leave behind in the nunnery”.
Sulina looked at the masked face that was talking to her:
the completely anonymously rubber-clad clone before which she sat, and real
doubts began to tumble in, falling over each other in their rush to dismantle
her previous certainty and determination.
“As you’ll see, I have the honour of wearing the black.
Sister Harmony, whom I feel certain will be my successor, wears the white. I
have the honour of the black as the Abbess. Sister Harmony wears the white as a
fully-fledged nun.”
“You, my dear daughter, may wear the red. The red marks you
as a novitiate, ‘an apprentice nun’. Since you will be an apprentice for
twelve-months, it is for me to appoint a supervisor. Sister Harmony will take
on that role. I will tell her to do so right away”
“Welcome to the sisteren Sulina”, the Abbess confirmed as
she held out her left hand, gloved in black rubber, for Sulina to kiss the huge
ruby on the ring finger.
“Thank you Abbess”, Sulina whispered after she had kissed
the priceless ruby with lips more beautiful than its mere cold carbon could
ever be.
“Just call me ‘Sister Mercy’ the Abbess laughed.
Then she paused: “But what are we to call you Sulina?
‘Sulina Toledo’ came into our loving home, but ‘Sulina Toledo’ cannot dwell
here. I sense that we are going to have a challenge with you my sweet child. I
also sense that your true self will win through, and that Sister Harmony may
not be the only contender for my place when I finally shuffle off the coil.”
“I feel that you are testing us. We must therefore test you
in turn Sulina. I am going to give you a name that it will be your challenge to
live up to, and to grow into. At one and the same time, it will tell you what I
know you are presently short from, and also therefore what you need to aspire
to and attain. From now onwards, and forever I pray, you my sweet daughter,
will be known as ‘Sister Truelove’”.
………………………
“Did you see what she had in that suitcase? Leg wax and a
razor! I ask you, leg wax and a razor!”
The two white-rubber clad figures caught midst chitchat,
curtsied dutifully surprised by the Abbess’ approach.
“Be about your business please Sister Charity and Sister
Hope. And think yourselves lucky if it isn’t the nipple-clamps for the pair of
you tonight”, the Abbess gently scolded.
Turning to Sulina, she then confirmed: “We will keep your
personal belongings for your novitiate year, Sister Truelove,
they will then be disposed off as useless trappings. You will not need anything
you brought with you. That you presently wear, will be
added to the temporary store of your belongings”.
“Ah! At last! Sister Harmony. I might have known you’d be
hiding!” the breathless Abbess joked, as she and Sulina had reached the top of
the flight of steps that led to the nun’s dormitory.
“This is Sister Truelove. She needs to experience the veil
and the robe without further delay. Her present clothes can join her suitcase
in the storeroom behind my office. Once you’ve dressed her, or, rather, shown
her how to dress herself in the required manner, show her around and introduce
her please, Sister. I’m relying upon you to look after her. She is your novice,
Sister Harmony. I know I can rely upon you, even if I can no longer on these
poor lungs of mine…”
Sister Harmony curtsied and kissed the Abbess’ ruby ring.
The new Sister Truelove, Sulina, felt obliged to do the same, realising she had
gone further than expectation only when it was too late.
“I’m so sorry Sister Mercy!” Sulina gasped,
her lovely lips moist cherry love beacons as she spoke.
“Worry not my darling daughter. It’s almost entirely
forgivable. It will count as one contra-point for the week. Sister Harmony will
explain. They help with your training: contra-points”, the Abbess
half-explained to the puzzled Sulina.
Inside her white garb, Sister Harmony prayed against the
temptations of the flesh, as she watched Sulina undress.
Sulina was making no attempt to be seductive. With her stockinged
feet on the worn out old cold slabs of the dormitory floor, she could not feel
any less Mata Hari than she did.
But Sulina was a natural siren. The startling contrast of
her warm brown eyes with her sun-ripened-corn-gold hair; the intricacies of her
endless curls capering a glowing robe down her
femininely-arched back, her slim neck and tiny pretty ears, as her dainty hands
removed her white plastic-pearl earrings: Sister Harmony increased her prayers.
Now the cerise shirt was being unbuttoned, and oh god how
lovely the breasts as they gently heaved with Sulina’s
steady breathing, and how slender the arms, and how fine the golden down on the
forearms, and how sweetly delineated the biceps and triceps, though still so
softly feminine: Sister Harmony doubled her prayers.
Sulina unhooked her bra and took its shoulder straps down
her arms, and poor Sister Harmony’s eyes filled with tears as she saw the full
majesty of the gentle breasts with the two-inch diameter areola centred by the
half-inch high Mount Fuji nipples themselves, as the bosom swung into its
natural freedom, and hung soft-firmly down, sweetly flattened on Sulina’s chest
by the gentle reminder of gravity.
‘Oh please god, don’t let her be wearing suspenders: if you
love me god, don’t let her be wearing suspenders’ Sister Harmony begged in her
head.
It was all that Sister Harmony could do not to gasp aloud,
as Sulina ran the zip at the side top of her skirt down, unhooked its
waistband, and let it drop.
Sulina did not need to undo the last few buttons that had
held her shirt hitherto dangling within and above her skirt’s hem, for Sister
Harmony to see that she did indeed wear translucent white-lace-panelled
suspenders, the belt part of which was on her soft gently curved belly, and
that what must surely be god’s finest ever pair of legs were being shaped,
unavoidably supremely erotically, as Sulina stepped out of her skirt and
dropped her shirt aside.
The panties came next, still warm with Sulina’s body: still
hot from her lovemouth: still strong with her natural full-female aroma. They
were so tiny once off, that Sister Harmony thought it a miracle they had ever
covered anything.
The firm tightly inturned lips smiled vertically between her
dream thighs, as Sulina continued to undress. She was
completely shaven. She was as nude and bare between her legs as a holy
innocent: Sister Harmony’s prayers became almost manic.
Sister Harmony knew she was creaming as she watched the
golden curls of Sulina’s glorious hair swing round to cover her left eye, when
she bent to unclasp her left suspender. Her leg was so supremely smooth, that
the let-loose stocking slid slowly, but immediately, to Sulina’s ankle.
All this while, Sulina was unaware she was being sexually
ogled. She could see nothing of Sister Harmony’s eyes under the hood, behind
the gauze that prevented the gaze in, but not the ravishing of her lovely
dancer’s legs by the deeply frustrated Sister Harmony.
You will find it easiest to put the knickers on first,
Sister Harmony pointed, causing the beautiful Sulina to turn to the bed, where
her new garments were neatly laid out.
Sulina picked up the red-rubber knickers, and was shocked to
find that they were lined with rough sacking. She looked up at the
characterless mask of the white-robed companion.
“All we wear, Sister Truelove, is lined for sacrifice. The
hairshirt has its descendents”, Sister Harmony explained obliquely, to try and
ease the trouble lines she longed to see off the lovely, soon to be hidden,
face.
How could she make this girl smile? For the world to be lit
for one last time by the glorious light that such a face was beacon too, was
more that the world deserved; but for the flame to be snuffed without one last
glow of its astonishing beauty, seemed so cruel to Sister Harmony.
Sulina drew the rubber knickers up her legs and giggled,
putting her pretty fingers to her moist cherry lips, and her face glowed golden
girl and her eyes shone lovelight, and the stars hid for shame they could not
compete with such glory; but the universe found reason for its continued
existence, and poor Sister Harmony had tears trickling from her eyes for the
sacrifice so shortly to come.
Sulina giggled because she recalled school-issue knickers,
and these, though in red rubber, were they. The waistband was tight just above
her hipbones. The legs, some three-inches down her thighs, took firm grip,
compressing the tops of her thighs starting from just below the cheeks of her
firm ample bottom, fit to all but cut off her circulation. If these were not
passion killers then the dictionary needed immediate review!
It was only when she pulled the knickers right high up, that
Sulina discovered that their crotch was lined, not with the irritating itching
rough jute sacking, but with the opened out skin of a hedgehog, and that its
spines were biting into her tender sensitive love-lips, and invading her pink
where and when her lips parted. To say that this was decidedly unpleasant, would be to understate the literally painfully
obvious.
“The vest next”, Sister Harmony gently prompted, with a
catch of sadness in her voice that caused Sulina to pause and look briefly at
the hooded figure.
The vest – red rubber of course – had short sleeves. It was
akin to a long-bodied tee-shirt. Sulina slid it on, only to find that it too
was lined with the jute sacking material that made her soft smooth complexion
itch furiously.
That her breasts poked out of two holes at the front of the
vest surprised Sulina. Then she thought to herself that they were hardly likely
to poke out of holes at the back, and giggled nervously at the silly thought,
despite the pain from her crutch still.
The vest covered her delicately boned shoulders. Its hem
draped half down the rubber knickers. A quick glance showed Sulina that the
side edges of the vest’s hem had hanging suspender clasps. And that there were
buckle arrangements on the vests sleeves: these sleeves
half-down her upper arms.
“One more sign of amusement, Sister Truelove, and I am
afraid you will score another contra-point”, Sister Harmony informed, with
quiet sadness. “You already have two.”
Sulina looked at Sister Harmony with astonishment. Then she
lowered her lovely calf’s eyes, still mystified, but not daring to ask what
these ‘contra-points’ signified.
“The stockings”, Sister Harmony prompted.
At least the rubber stockings did not contain the irritant
that was making Sulina itch inside her knickers and her vest, as if a contest
were being held to see which could aggravate the more.
The rubber stockings were clasped to the suspenders on the
vests hem. They were quite flattering to the legs. Sulina’s legs therefore made
them devastatingly shapely, and thus devastatingly sexy.
The stockings were thicker at the heel than the sole. Sulina
had already deduced that they combined the only shoes she would wear as a nun.
“You had best put on the gag before the gloves, you will
find it so much easier”, Sister Harmony suggested, matter-of-factly.
“Gag?” Sulina asked.
“You are not allowed to question. That is another
contra-point. However, I would have told you anyway, that a novitiate wears a
gag to stop her mouth for the first month. It is to instil discipline. Don’t
worry sweet sister. We will not let you starve, as long as
you do not talk when we are dining”, Sister Harmony assured.
The gag worked like a branks. Sulina examined it, working
out how it fitted. She then put it over her head and around her neck, before
slipping its straps together with the buckle in the very end eye.
Now lifting her lovely arms so that her pectorals raised and
swung her divinely heavy breasts beckoningly seductively, she buckled the gag
under her golden curls at the back of her neck, thus filling her mouth with a
four-inch-long rubber penis, with a narrow central hole through it, so she
could breath and drink via a straw.
The armpit long gloves, like the stockings, hugged the shape
of the limb, and thus took the sweet shape of Sulina’s very pretty arms and
hands. To buckle these to the short sleeves of the rubber tee-shirt, took
Sulina a while. It was clearly something she was going to have to practice; her
gloved hands were so clumsy.
It was in Sister Harmony’s gentle mind to whisper: ‘say
goodbye to the world sweet beautiful angel’ as Sulina picked up the hood. That
the same thought had crossed Sulina’s own mind, only marginally less
emotionally, showed in her momentary hesitation.
Then she lifted the red rubber hood and slid it over her
golden curls, twisting it till she could see out of the two gauze windows for
her eyes, and then a margin more for her mouth and nose.
Thank goodness this hood, unlike the knickers and vest,
contained no irritant sacking lining. Its lower edges rested on Sulina’s
shoulders. The hood would hug her head when the bell dress was in place.
Sister Harmony watched to ensure Sulina put the dress over
her head the right way around. As Sulina’s gloved arms slipped up its sleeves,
the central round hole rested on the top of her hood for the while. Now she
pulled the hole down over her face, and let the dress’ hem fall to the ground
all around her.
Tears came to her eyes at the finality of this. Sulina had
said goodbye to the world. Sister Truelove had arrived in the nunnery.
It came as no real surprise to Sulina to find that the
inside of the dress was lined at chest height with two more hedgehog skins, and
that her nipples were rubbing on the sharp spines even as she merely breathed.
The holes in the vest thus showed their purpose.
It crossed her mind to ask if such torture was the preserve
of the initiate nuns: the nuns in the red rubber she wore, but her gag would
have prevented her asking even if she had dared.
To wear the rubber veil and vestment was not going to be the
‘lark’ Sulina had dismissed it as in her planning. It was going to be an
experience of constant slow torture. Her sex was already sore, and her nipples
were not far behind. She wanted to get this garb off and damned quick. She had
already had enough of it.
“We dress thus nineteen hours a day”, Sister Harmony
informed Sulina. “You will get used to its idiosyncrasies sweet Sister
Truelove. The best answer is not to fight it. Let your body be taken to the
higher sphere.”
“Our blessed clothing is designed to make us ‘other’. It is
designed to take us away from the merely human and transport us nearer to
heaven. That is why our suffering is focused on those parts for which we have
now no further need where sex is concerned.”
“Our constant suffering finds its relief in holy thoughts.
You must learn to pray constantly Sister Truelove, and you will find you are
delivered from all earthly discomfort”, Sister Harmony enthused in her lovely
Irish lilt, clearly believing all she said.
“Of the remaining hours of the twenty four, four are granted
for sleep, the other one for a daily full body bathe, and for prayer. The one
meal we are allowed, which comprises fresh bread, water, vegetables and fruit,
when the fruit is in our orchards and hot houses, is also taken during the morning.
We have had no cases of scurvy yet!”, She continued,
adding an attempt at light heartedness.
Sulina’s sprits fell like a pre-storm barometer as she
listened, and further still as she was shown the bleak beds with the
rag-stuffed sacks that served as mattresses, the wooden block for a pillow, and
the chains to fasten the sleeper in an ‘X’ on her back, so as to avoid any
chance she might try to masturbate.
The individual tiled shower stalls in which there was a hole
centrally in the floor for daily defecation, horrified her. “You will learn to
discipline your bowels if you are wise”, Sister Harmony observed as she pointed
this out.
“No makeup is allowed. You may comb your hair for five
minutes and no more. Depilation is out of the question. Your body must return
to its natural state. You will find your vestments the more comfortable for
it”, Sister Harmony continued.
“During the first months, you will work inside the nunnery’s
walls, learning the duties in the laundry, cleaning the shower latrines, and
performing gardening and greenhouse duties, or the like. We multitask in the
convent. We all work for each other Sister Truelove. No slacking is allowed. It
is simply unacceptable”.
If Sulina had wanted to escape before, the unfolding of
these horrors before her ears, if not all had yet been witnessed by her eyes,
horrified her. The mind she had set on making mental notes for the novel or
extended articles she planned, was now being cleared
for planning her escape.
This had been a mistake. A wholly hideous
mistake. Sulina’s heart was pumping fit to burst. Inside her terrible
clinging claustrophobic hood and cloying clothes, she was on the verge of a
panic attack.
………………………
Three hours had passed with the hot hell of the clinging
rubber, and the slow drone of sweet Sister Harmony’s instructions on the
history of the Sisters of Sisters, and how the robes had evolved, and the
necessity for the robes and the hood-veil, along with the assumed name, to
reduce the wearer to anonymity and make her a tool for god’s service, and not a
mere girl among girls without god fully in the life heart and soul.
Three hours in which Sulina’s rising terror at her
imprisonment within her rubber clothes, and then within a nunnery that in
itself was surely worse than a prison, was being driven home with increasing
horror, accompanied by the in-built causes for discomfort the clothes were
lined with, and another discomfort causing Sulina to dance a little, in order
to restrain a rising need.
The heavy breathing of the aging Abbess could now be heard
as she entered to dormitory.
“There is a Miss Cindana Angelslove to see… well she used
the old name, but she means Sister Truelove”, the Abbess informed.
“Welcome to the Sisters of Sisters my child”, the Abbess
then confirmed as she stopped and looked, or at least directed her hooded head,
to the now all red rubber clad initiate, Sulina.
“First days, even first hours in the vestments can be
extremely traumatic and emotional my child” Sister Mercy continued.
“My advice to you would be to send me back with the message,
I can assure you I will convey with all the gentleness at my command, that that
sweet young girl, Miss Angelslove, must forget you, and that you do not want to
see her ever again”, the Abbess advised.
But to Sulina, the news just given was so wonderful. Cindana
was here. Cindana could explain. Cindana would take these dreadful robes off
her, and set her free again….
“The choice is yours Sister Truelove. Just nod if you insist
upon seeing Miss Angelslove; or shake your head if you accept my advised
course”, the Abbess prompted.
Sulina tried not to make the nod enthusiastic in any degree.
“Be it on your own head then my
sweet daughter”, the Abbess observed quietly.
………………………
As Sister Harmony led her into the audience room, and sat
her down, the discovery that there would be a solid stone partition wall, and
an iron grid between herself and Cindana, knocked Sulina metaphorically sideways.
Cindana’s pretty fingers clutched at the grid, trying, with
all her pretty girls sweet mite of might, to pull the grille away, as she
sobbed and repeated over and over, shaking her lovely brunette curls with her
disbelieving head as she did so, staring in horror at the red rubber doll that
was being made to stay seated in the neighbouring room:
“My god Sulina, what have they done to you? What have they
done to you? Oh god, what have they done to you?”
“You must address the holy child as ‘Sister Truelove’ my daughter, or you must, I’m afraid, leave” the Abbess, who
had just entered the room where Cindana sobbed inconsolably, insisted.
“I won’t! How can you do this to yourselves you damned
witches?! And how can you do this to a sweet loving girl like my Sulina?!”
Cindana screamed.
At a nod from the Abbess four nuns accompanying her, grabbed
the lovely Cindana preparatory to ejecting her forcibly.
“Say something my love! Oh please god Sulina, I love you!!
Tell me you love me still Sulina!! Oh please please tell me you love me!!!”
Cindana begged as tears rolled down her lovely face.
Under her mask, Sulina fought her gag to try and respond.
Sister Harmony held her in her chair to prevent her getting to the bars.
At Cindana’s final dreadful distressful cries, within her
mask, tears coursed down Sulina’s face.
Tears from seeing the love of her life in
such total misery for her.
And tears because Sulina’s muscles had lost the long fight,
and she was slowly peeing into her rubber knickers: peeing and orgasming that
is.
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