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Latex and Domination
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Latex and Domination
The lipstick was the hardest thing to get right; Jane tried to get the
mix of cupid's bow and match for her own lips three times.
Finally she was able to stand away from the makeup table and
examine herself in a nearby mirror. Her jeans and T shirt, piled on a
chair, spoiled the effect, so she hastily shifted them to one side,
snagging her pointed artificial nails on the loops in the belt. Finally, she
struck a pose, head up, hands on hips, one knee forwards. Smouldering
was the right description.
Four inch heeled black court shoes made her smooth, fit legs seem
impossibly long in the black, seamed silk stockings. Her pale skin shone
out above the tops, drawing the eye to her groin, cupped in a tight
leather g-string with small studs let into the edge. It had taken her
some time to remove excess pubic hair which had peeked indecently
around the edges of the g-string. Now, it's tightness showed only in the
slight bulge in the gusset, and in her elevated heartbeat.
A shiny black PVC basque, tight across her hips and breasts, just
loose on her tiny waist, held up the stockings with six wide suspenders.
Shoulder straps hugged her breasts into the cups: As she moved before
the mirror, the tight clothes pulled at her in strange ways, her newly-
red, newly-long nails glinting in the light.
A profusion of blonde curls spilled onto her shoulders and down her
back, swishing unfamiliarily as she looked over her shoulder at the
white globes of her rear (a tiny, reinforced triangle of studded leather
nestled at the top of her cheeks, tensioning the G string). Gradually she
bent over, legs just apart, to see the nails of one hand just visible in
the mirror as she gently stroked the surface of the G-string. Her face,
the flush of her cheeks hidden by pale foundation, began to assume a
snarl of lust.
The doorbell rang. For ten seconds she hesitated, frozen in place:
then, as it rang again, her fluttering hand closed on a black PVC
raincoat, which she draped herself in before tottering for the door.
The peep-hole showed a small, slim man, carrying a large zipped up
holdall, looking directly into the tiny glass eye in the door. As his hand
went to the buzzer a third time, Jane made up her mind and opened the
door.
"Come in" she purred. His eyes popped rather at her face, then
popped again at the coat. She leaned forward, holding the coat closed
with one hand and sweeping him in with the other. "I don't have all day,
you know." She admonished him, as they sat in the flat's tiny living
space. "Now, I've taken over for a while from the lady who's usually
here, so you'd better explain what it is you normally do." She said,
hoping he wouldn't notice the tremor in her voice as she sat down, the
PVC raincoat rustling aside to reveal her long stocking covered legs.
He said that he was the rubber slave, and that it was his duty to
maintain and prepare the Mistresses' rubber clothing. Gesturing to the
bag, he explained that a few items had finally arrived from the makers,
and some favoured toys had been adjusted according to the mistress'
requirements.
Jane swallowed nervously. She had no idea that the girl who had
asked her to look after the keys to the downstairs flat went in for this
kind of thing! She had heard occasional noises coming up through the
floor, sounds of ecstasy, and had worked out that the girl, the same age
and proportions as her, was a prostitute: Her own fantasies had driven
her to come downstairs and look around, and then to slip into the
raciest outfit she could see hung up in the bedroom. Should she go
through with this any further?
It wouldn't do any harm to look at the clothes, anyway, since they
would have to be left here for when Amy returned. "Very well," she
said, "Let us see what you have brought."
He jumped up eagerly and unzipped the bag, pulling forth a profusion
of red and black objects which rustled and crackled strangely. As he
started to lovingly lay each item out and smooth out all the folds, she
grew impatient: "Yes, thankyou, err, slave. I want to wear them, not look
at them on display."
"Sorry Mistress" her replied immediately. "Should I go and wait for
you?"
"Yes." The note of command in her voice was easy to maintain. "I'll put
all this stuff on and then see what we should do with you."
His eyes widened "All of it, mistress?"
"Yes. Now leave me in peace." She was distracted: the first thing that
caught her eye was a straightened out wire coathanger.
Twenty minutes later, she was beginning to wish she hadn't been so
rash. Tottering towards an as yet unexplored door in the flat, she felt
her fluttering heart sink as the door opened to reveal a flight of stairs,
going down into a harshly-lit, black-painted space. Hanging on with
slippery-gloved palms to the banister, she tried to remain aloof as she
descended the steps. There was a sudden gasp as the slave caught sight
of her legs, followed by moans at the rest of the costume.
She wore a catsuit made of thin red rubber, covering her from her
toes to her neck, the few visible parts gleaming from hours of
attentive polishing. Press-studded cones of red rubber covered holes
which would expose the full weight of her large, conical breasts: set in
the peak of each cone was a polished brass casting of an erect nipple,
the coolness of the metal making her own nipples hard inside the heat
of the suit. Below the breasts was a heavy, shiny leather corset,
pinching her waist and making her breasts push into the retaining cones
of the suit. A zig-zag network of thongs spanned the distance between
the bottom of the corset and the top of a pair of high heeled black
patent leather thighboots, which had been modified by the insertion of
small eyelets around the tops. Straps from the top of the corset ran up
to a wide collar slung high on her chest: at the collar's sides, press-
studs retained a pair of fingerless gloves - cum- shoulderpads made
from thin, black rubber.
Most bizarre was the hood. It covered her ears, smoothing the profile
of her head and making her own heartbeat and breath loud. Made from
transparent and pink-painted rubber, it left her face exposed but
camouflaged her hair, having a long black pony tail fixed to the crown
of the head - she had removed the blonde wig in order to get it on
correctly. It attached via a smooth, plastic zip and some studs to the
high collar of the catsuit, and a small box of stage makeup had been
hidden inside it. Following the instructions with the spirit glue and
powder, Jane had made the boundary between the flesh of her face and
the textured, painted red rubber of the hood quite invisible. Even from
close up in the mirror, the hood looked as if the mistress was some
strange, magical, shiny-skinned creature whose body and costume
were inextricably joined.
But for one small detail, hidden by the g-string attached to the
corset, she might have been a creature made from rubber.
The slave was wearing a hood of black rubber, with darkened perspex
eyepieces, a very tight hourglass shaping corset of heavy, boned black
rubber, and a pair of high heeled black patent leather ankle boots. His
cock was held inside a black rubber condom which extended over his
balls: a heavy rubber cock strap thrust his balls forward and hard
rubber rings, just slightly too small, pulled the condom tight against
his flesh, one at the base of the shaft, the other just behind the head.
"Mistress, you are more beautiful than I could ever have imagined!"
He cried, his hand moving slowly and carefully towards his penis in
bondage. Gently, he began to masturbate by tugging at the tight rings,
watching her all the while. She realised that he wanted her to tell him to
stop, that this was the usual response of the mistresses he had seen.
No, she wouldn't do that
"Keep doing that." She said, walking round him slowly. His breath,
somehow amplified by the mask, became harsher. "But don't come. I
want you ready to serve me, not disinterested. Is this your suit?
"Yes, mistress." It was black, polished heavy rubber, smooth at the
front and zipped up the arms and legs at the back. She lay it out like an
open skin on a nearby long table and made him lay face down on top of
it. At first the arrangement confused her, but then she realised that the
zips were arranged so that the suit could be put on an immobile person.
Pulling the ends together at his booted ankles and around his wrists,
she pulled the big zips all the way up each arm to meet at the shoulder,
and all the way up each leg to meet in the small of his back. As she
straddled his buttocks to finally close the last zip up his back, she
caught sight of herself in a large mirror: the perfect, powerful
mistress! Every movement she made forced different parts of the
costume to pull at her body, and the protective thin rubber and tight
leather combined to make even the faintest touch an ecstasy. She
leaned right forward to close the strap at the neck of his costume and
her metal-tipped breasts brushed the zips of his suit, snagging and
clattering, pushing against her tender flesh.
She shivered and ground her crotch against his rubber-enclosed
buttocks: for a brief moment they both moaned, softly, then she
realised this was all rather too much, and jumped hastily off the bench.
'Get up, slave', her voice ragged with lust, she stood with her legs
apart as he stiffly, carefully got up from the table, a robotlike, lithe
figure in night-dark rubber. 'Stand there with your legs together and
your hands behind your back. My, you do have a large cock for one so
small, don't you?'
'Y-yes, mistress' he murmured: a hole in the groin of the suit allowed
his rubber sheathed cock to poke out, it's head bobbing a few inches
away from his stomach.
She leaned forward and batted it with the flat of her hand: he gasped
and swayed from the sensations as it swung to a halt.
'Now, if you weren't a pathetic slave, you'd be being disgusting with
that thing at the moment, wouldn't you? Pushing it at me, trying to get
me to touch it, seeing if it turned me on... well, it does: but only because
it's in my power and under my control.' She made a pincer with the
thumb and forefinger of one hand and tried to dig her nails in on either
side of the bobbing, black-covered thing: it's size meant that she dug
into the top instead. He hissed and rocked back on the wobbly heels
'Ouch, that hurts... Mistress' the slight pause made her look up, then
slide one side of her mouth up in a sneer.
"Careful, slave - I'm quite used to little worms like you, whatever the
size of their dicks. I can, after all, hurt them a very great deal if they
decide to mock me.'
'Y-Y-Yes, mistress.' This time there was no delay. 'I don't want to be
hurt mistress - how may I be of service to you?'
She stood back, hands on hips, and began walking slowly around him.
"Keep looking straight ahead." she barked. "Now, I wonder how capable
you are at cleaning things." once behind him, she stepped suddenly up
to his back, slipping an arm around his chest and pushing her breasts
and groin against his back and buttocks. The other hand she held in
front of his face, a couple of inches clear. "How well equipped are you?
Touch my palm with your tongue."
His tongue shot out: she moved her hand away, and he remained in
contact for at least another inch. Her shudders transmitted to him via
the brass nipples and the corset."Turn around." she ordered. Now his
blank rubber mask was only inches from her smooth, beautiful face. She
noticed a small zip over the mouth, and pulled it shut. "There. Don't want
that tongue coming out uninvited, do we, Slave?"
A muffled sound, and he vigorously shook his head. Slowly, with her
eyes fixed on the dark perspex goggles, she extended her own tongue
and licked around his cheeks, his chin and his nose. His huge prick could
just be felt through the corset, jamming into her as she held him around
his rubber-constrained body: the heat of their bodies built up quickly.
She leaned up and ran her tongue across the perspex, sucking the
protruding eye cover into her mouth, blotting out his world with her
mouth. His cock twitched frantically.
"Yesss, that's nice, isn't it." With the heels on she was two or three
inches taller than he, looking down into the eyepieces from a scant few
inches away, their bodies moulded to one another inside the rubber.
"You like the idea of being in your mistresses' arms, under her control.
It even makes you big and stiff, doesn't it?" The cock shuddered
between them, and she pushed him back: this was going to be fun.
"But you can't have it your own way all the time. Go and stand over
there in front of that rack." He nodded humbly and walked with evident
delight in his feminine grace over to the X shaped collection of wooden
posts, leather straps and white rope. By the time he had got there, she
had struck another pose, two fingers of each hand curled around each
big polished nipple, leaning back against the table, legs apart, the
bulging crotch of the suit exposed by her spread legs.
"I bet you'd like to suck these tits." she stated flatly, cupping the hot
rubber curve of them in her palms. "And ram your tongue up my cunt,
have my hips grind down on your nose and mouth. Keep your hands away
from that prick, unless you want to come now and have to drink it!" His
hand jumped back to his side. "Now, lean back there and spread your
legs."
He obeyed, the small of his back resting against a leather pad, his
feet close to the cuffs. She pounced forward, leaning her weight against
him in a sudden assault, grabbing each wrist in her hand and lifting it up
to the cuffs at the top of the cross. Once again, her face was inches
from his, her breasts with their hard tips digging into his chest. A wide
elastic strap secured his waist, and she knelt swiftly, shivering as the
corset and suit gripped her, to clip the ankle cuffs to his boots. A yank
on the ankle cords and he was immobilised.
She stepped back, hands on hips, smiling at his predicament, his cock
straining up from his hips, his hooded face leaning pathetically forward
to look her up and down. Slowly, with awkward fingers, she popped off
the studs retaining the breast covers, the air suddenly cold against the
exposed skin. First the left, then the right breast came to view, the
nipples hard and the aureoles wrinkled and goose-bumped with her
state of excitement.
"You'd like to lick these, wouldn't you slave?" She stirred each nipple
with a long red fingernail, her breath ragged as the unaccustomed
sharpness sent sensations shooting through her. Too much more of that
and she'd come: she licked each index finger and wiped her nipples with
the dampness instead. The slave groaned and stirred his hips around,
away from the cross. "No!" she said."Don't move!" There were some
straps loose on the cross and she stepped forward and secured each
leg and his waist to the wood, pulled tight. Her arms struck his hardness
and the top of it brushed the upper slopes of each breast as she moved,
but she had the businesslike approach down pat and it had very little
effect.
Again, she stepped back. "That's better. It's for me to move about and
you to watch." She squeezed her breasts together, breathing deeply,
then leaned back against the table before running her hands down over
the corset, slipping her fingers beneath the press-studs of the G-
string. The metallic 'pops' of it undoing were the loudest sound in the
room. She peeled it away, revealing the smooth red rubber of the
crotch of the suit and the top of the opening. She turned and unpopped
the fasteners at the back, letting each side of the g-string hang down,
before staring into the eyes of the helpless slave, spreading her legs
apart, and pulling the short fat plug out of her sopping cunt. There was a
distinct 'plop': she turned back, bent over to present her loosely-open,
darkly engorged lips to him and scooped her fingers inbetween them,
licking off the rich juice hanging there.
"See, slave - see how badly your mistress wants to be fucked."
She strode across to him, moving fast, and leaned her full weight
against him again, cocking up her leg to entrap his cock against her
damp cunt. Swiftly, she brought the G-string up to his face, detached
the ball-plug, and rammed it into his mouth. "There." she said softly.
"Suck that." Her hips began to move back and forth on his trapped cock.
"I've been waiting for this for a while, you worm" she hissed, reaching
down...
Part II
There was the sudden creak and slam of the door at the top of the
stairs, echoing down into the dungeon. In panic, she clutched at the
slave, her eyes wide as she turned to look at the stairs.
Descending the stairs were a pair of legs encased in smooth black
seamed stockings, the feet perched in impossibly high heeled black
court shoes. Whoever it was had double jointed ankles, having no
trouble negotiating the precipitous stair. They were also taking their
time, as if they knew what they would find. Jane found herself quivering
against a figure whose heat and tension was making her sweat,
suddenly.
"My goodness. You have been looking after the shop."
It was Amy, the half-oriental girl whose flat and basement Jane was
looking after. She was dressed in those impossibly high heels, sheer
silk stockings with seams, and a clinging black crinkled dress. A leather
bolero jacket strained over her breasts, three trim studs clipping the
sleeves shut at each leather-gloved hand.
Amy took a leisurely stroll around the frozen pair: Jane could just
about bear to move her head to watch the girl, because the hard head of
the slave's erection was jerking, vibrating like a tuning fork, just at the
open entrance to her pussy. If she moved, she would collapse.
"And you look the part, too. I knew we were the same size, but I didn't
expect you to have any of these interests - and doesn't that hood work
well with thos cheekbones." The sentence finished with Amy right
behind her, and she felt a hand move down across her buttocks, hot in
the rubber, and to her most intimate spot - colliding with the slave's
straining penis.
Jane could feel the other girl stiffen suddenly, and the slave cease to
jerk and move against her.
"Were you intending to fuck this person?"
The question was directed at the slave, who shook his encapsulated
head vehemently. Amy grabbed the back of Jane's head in the rubber,
her hand surprisingly strong, and turned her head to present her ear,
flattened under the rubber, to Amy's mouth. "Did you want to get
fucked? Were you expecting a slave of mine to fuck your box?"
Her voice was low, soft and threatening: Jane was shaking with fear as
she answered "Err, no, honestly no".
Amy pulled her back from where she lay against the slave, by
gripping the curve of her skull through the rubber, like some ridiculous
puppet. Despite the fact that they were exactly the same size and
shape, Amy's incredibly high heels gaver a couple of inches of height
advantage. She stood Jane in the middle of the floor and retrieved the
rubber cones of the breast covers and the leather g string from the
slave's mouth. She refitted the covers, pressing hard into Jane's body
and pushing in each nipple, making her shudder. Then she attached the
g-string at the front of the corset and had her bend over the table,
raising her arse into the air.
"My dear, you weren't wearing these properly at all." she said
sweetly. A few seconds reprieve as Amy's heels clacked acrossd the
room and back, and then a cool sensation around Jane's tighter hole -
then a sudden feeling of invasion, of pieces of plastic bumping past her
anal sphincter. She jumped as each thick bead popped into her body,
then jumped again as the ball-dildo on the g string was pushed against
her lips and forced inside as the back was clipped into place.
Amy's gloved hand pushed on the outside of the G-string, making the
plug and the hard beads grind against one another through the
membranes of her vagina and rectum, and Jane moaned and jerked
across the table.
"Hmm, very good. Almost ready." Amy purred. "Now, you've been a bit
of a bad bitch, coming too close to my slaves like that. Look at the
state you've left him in." She grabbed Jane's shoulders and spun her
around. so she tottered uncertainly in the boots, then gripped her
firmly by the neck and the crotch and pushed her over to the still, black
figure of the slave.
The strong, slim hands pushed jane down to her knees, moving her
head to within an inch of the rubber covered, straining cock. "See what
your juices have done to my slave?" Amy snarled.
The top of the cock was covered in a thick secretion of Jane's
cumjuice, mixed with the lubricant jelly she'd smeared on the vaginal
plug. It was clear what was required of her: she stuck her tongue out and
very gingerly, afraid of being smacked in the face by the thing should it
start jerking again, she wiped up a blob near the base of the shaft.
"No!" Her head was jerked back and Amy's face was suddenly inches
away. "You have to SUCK it. Properly. Now suck. And you, slave - if you
come, it's six hours in the restriction suit."
Jane swallowed nervously, then tilted her head to one side and
wrapped her lips around the hot black rod. Carefully, she inched her lips
far down the shaft, feeling the little teat on the end tickle her throat
and the tight hard rings circling the shaft, bumping her lips until her
nose hit the hard, shiny rubber covering his abdomen. While she
concentrated on sucking hard to remove the juice, she could feel Amy's
gloved hand stirring the plug in her cunt through the G-string. "Suck it
in and out, bitch." Amy's voice was hardening, gaining an edge and a
command that made Jane wet. Slowly, she let the hot stalk slide out of
her mouth, simultaneously pushing back against that insistent, grinding
hand.
Behind her, Amy took a ragged breath. The slave shifted suddenly in
his bonds, and she quickly pulled Jane's head back off his dick. "No
coming yet, either of you. First of all we will take care of my needs.
You, bitch, untie him."
Jane stood and reached around the slave to undo the various straps.
This time, as she drew close, the helmeted head turned to watch her
movements. She kept her eyes down, looking at the floor and
occasionally his cock, now slick and shiny with her saliva. She could
hardly believe that it had been her, kneeling on the floor, sucking that
thing. The slave pushed himself away from the cross, looking towards
Amy, who stood with her arms crossed, legs slightly apart. "Stand
straight and let me look at you." She said, walking to and fro in those
heels, breasts bulging into the bolero jacket "Two slaves... just for me.
Must be getting pretty uncomfortable in those costumes, I'll bet. Maybe
I'll have you stand here at attention for an hour or two. Or maybe I'll
just have you perform on each other for my pleasure. You, Alex, come
here and help me with this."
She raised the back of the jacket, exposing the zip of the dress. Alex
wiggled sexily across to her and, amazingly nimble in the hood and suit,
helped her unzip the dress. Underneath, the stockings were held up by
six intricate suspenders, stretched taut from a gleaming, boned corset
made from what looked like PVC. The leather jacket still covered her
breasts but she wore no knickers: her naked, smooth-shaven pussy was
plainly visible, even from behind. She turned, her clit and hood bulging
out from the inner lips, and walked past the kneeling, shaking Jane.
"Nervous, my dear? That's probably a very good idea." The clonking of
a drawer being opened."Now, let's see who gets to fuck whom, shall
we?"
Into Jane's vision came an extraordinary looking device, a long black
rubber dildo, attached to a pair of black rubber pants. Inside the pants
was a matching, veined and knobbly shaft, with no balls at it's base. The
external one was overemphasised, a caricature of veins and heavy,
deeply split mushroom head. Amy scrunched the pants into an
insignificant ball and grabbed Alex, the male slave, by the cock. "Suck"
she demanded, unzipping his facemask and plunging the inner dildo
deep into his mouth. He sucked greedily as her hands moved softly up
and down his shaft, her eyes boring into Jane's. "Stand up, girl, and come
over here. I want you behind him, your bodies pressed together. You,
slave, keep sucking."
The trio moved across to the table, and Amy pushed Alex down to his
knees again. 'Spread your legs, Alex. You, lie between them and take
the head of his cock in your mouth. Mmmm.... Alex, lick!"
From where Jane was lying, she could see up to where Alex's
incredible tongue was flickering over Amy's shaven mound, diving into
the swollen purple richness of her lips, teasing at her clit and diving
deep within her tight and juicy hole. Even while she held his cock
between her lips, he was concentrating totally on the spread cunt in
front of him, slurping eagerly at the juices, licking Amy's fingers as
they occasionally appeared to rub at her clit, taking time off from
disappearing under the leather jacket to tweak her nipples. Jane
ground her hips to and fro, feeling herself violated inside and
constrained outside, her nipples pushing against the inside of the cold
brass nipple of the suit. She cupped her breast and sucked lasciviously
on Alex's rubber prick, feeling the teat tickle the back of her throat.
After a little while, Alex gasped involuntarily and jerked his hips away.
"I said suck just the HEAD, bitch-slave!" Amy said loudly. "Right. Alex,
get out of the way. You, stand up. Clean my juices off his mask, now."
Alex was smiling, in a not very nice way: as Jane got close to him, he
put his arm around her, pulled her close so his cock pushed at her cunt,
and stuck his tongue deep into her mouth. She tried to pull back for a
second, then he ground his lithe body against hers, sending thrills
shooting through her, and she pushed forward, returning the flavoured
kiss, his mask zipper rough against her upper lip.
"STOP THAT." Definitely the voice of command. "Alex, kneel and take
that cunt-cover off her. Pull the beads out with your teeth. Turn her
round."
As she turned, she saw Amy just complete putting on the dildo-pants
- the inner cock was just sliding up into her cunt. Carefully, she wiggled
her hips from side to side, pulling the tight rubber up over her
suspenders and leting it snap flat against the corset. She reached
inbetween her legs, behind those balls, and pushed gently, moaning.
Then she reached forward and stroked the hard rubber, lovingly.
Alex's tongue suddenly swept down Jane's arse-crack, and the beads
within were swiftly and brutally withdrawn. The plug in her vagina
pulled free as his hands came up between her thighs, and his tongue
made her jump (but spread her legs at the same time) as it invaded her
open vagina, wiggling to and fro on the ridged, slowly contracting, slick
walls.
"Put her on the table, at the end" was the command. Presently, Jane
found herself lying on her back, with her booted legs being held up and
apart by Alex at her side. He was licking at the heel of the nearer one,
his cock bouncing on her breast.Suddenly, Amy appeared between her
legs, standing at the end of the table. Without so much as a word, the
mistress plunged the rubber cock right into her vagina.
Jane's back arched, within the corset, and her mouth hung open at the
ecstasy of it. She squeezed the shaft inside her with her muscles,
feeling the heavy, hard head buried deep within her. "Now, bitch, I want
you to count. The count is one, two, slowly. Start."
"One...two"
Swiftly the cock was withdrawn, that fat head popping past her
vaginal sphincter. She jerked suddenly, her hands popping up from her
sides. One came to rest on Alex's cock.
"One...two"
At the end of the 'two', the dildo was brutally re-inserted, slithering
past her lips. She continued to count, jerking helplessly each time the
volume of the thing invaded or withdrew. By the twentieth pair count,
she was barely coherent. She could just hear Amy say "and now, bitch,
you will come." A finger pushed down on her clit, just as the dildo
rammed deep into her, beginning to thrust quickly in and out. Amy's
moans signified her own orgasm: incredibly, just as she moaned, there
was a deep, warm squirting inside Jane: her eyes popped open in
astonishment, to see Alex squeezing the balls of the dildo, and pumping
on his now-naked prick with his hand.
It was indeed too much. As Alex's spunk rained down on her rubber
covered breasts, she shrieked a single short cry and came, explosively.
Things were never going to be the same.
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