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Piercing the Lady
  • Author - JG Leathers  
  • Rating -   
  • Site Rank - 82 of 1998
  • Unique Views - 14441
  • Story Codes - M-f, consensual, bodymod, bondage, extreme, humiliation, torture
  • Post Date - 10/29/2005
  • PDF Download -
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Reader's Comments (14)

Three days later, we made an appointment with a local doctor for the piercings that I had long promised to have done for and to Lady Susan. Certainly, she’d had the labial ones done at her own behest, but these were to be done on my demand and requirement, and she would submit to them, one way or the other.

Her septum and the two outer flaps of skin of her nose would be the fist to experience the piercer’s needle, then her tongue would be next. From there, her nipples, then another six rings would be permanently mounted in each of her labia. The ones currently resident in her clitoris and hood would be removed and exchanged for far more substantial jewellery. The entire experience would be a very trying one for her without a doubt, but she had consented to have them done, all on the same occasion. I’d summoned a cab to the hotel and now we stood under the front portico, awaiting its arrival.

As always, she was dressed in her concealing cape, long skirts under it, and the knee-high, laced, locked-on, hooved boots under her skirts. I required that she wear these boots all the time now and she’d become quite adept at walking in them, but they were not the only things that controlled her locomotion. I’d also affixed a short chain between her ankle cuffs, then before leaving our room, crossed her arms over her stomach; locking her wrists to the side rings of her waist cinch as a change from the normal freedom she was accustomed to, of just having short chains connecting her wrist cuffs to the restraint belt. I wanted her to be fearfully aware of the fact that she was being made helpless to resist what was to come.

I’d had all of her cuffs, the collar and her belt made by a German firm, and in the case of the cuffs and the collar they were closely formed to her limbs and neck, fitting very snugly, but the belt was quite tight. All were substantial, being five cm wide and five mm thick and had been designed to be closed only once with no way to open them. Now, they could not be removed, no matter how much she or I might wish them to be.

Today only, she wasn’t wearing the chastity portion of her costume; but it and its substantial, electrical, vaginal plug would re-fitted immediately after she had been adorned with her newest labia rings and returned to our room. Both the plug and her Inhibitor Bar were waiting in my suit case. She wore the deep hood of the cape pulled up and over her head, concealing her deeply veiled face, and we’d walked quickly through the hotel lobby, she with her head bent forward, then stood waiting on the cold cement. Lady Susan shivered with tremors of terror at what was to come, but perforce had to keep her head bent, for within the velvet lined confines of the deep hood, she wore a wide, formed steel band locked over her mouth and lower face. To this was mounted a deeply penetrating, thick, gag pad and her temporary nose ring was fastened to a staple on the front of it. The covering strap was designed in such a manner that with its mountings integrated to her collar, her head was kept bent forward in a humble posture, and she couldn’t turn it from side to side. Only the smallest of whimpers seeped from under the shiny strap. As was also the standard procedure for her now when permitted to be out in public, she was ore a full, opaque facial veil to conceal her state of being gagged, permitted only a small window of thick mesh through which she could vaguely make out the wold beyond. I’d observed the women in Saudi and the Middle East and their concealing clothing styles had appealed to me on many levels, and so those types of garments had become her regular apparel when in public.

Just before the cab swung in from the street I stepped back and observed her. She stood there as a picture of concealed feminine humility, shifting only slightly and making the distinctive clip-clopping sounds that I automatically associated with her now, when she moved her feet to maintain her balance. Small clinks of her ankle chain announced the presence of her hobble, and so she was a wonderful picture of enigmatic womanhood standing in enforced silence, waiting. I opened the door and she slipped into the back of the vehicle, leaving passers by with a momentary glimpse of a flashing, horseshoe-shod foot and glittering ankle chain when she swung her legs inside, then I followed, leaving a stunned couple on the sidewalk, staring after us.

The ride to the doctor’s offices took about fifteen minutes, and I sat with my arm around her, feeling her shivering and fighting instinctually against her restraints. I drew her to me, then pulled back her hood and held her close. She settled a little then, staring mutely up into my face; her eyes half-closed and fluttering nervously while I looked down at her, cradled and chained in my imprisoning and protective encirclement. A couple of times she writhed and twisted convulsively against me, but I held her tight until she subsided and once more tried to become resigned to the fact that she was soon to bear even more intimate signs of my possession of her body, mind, and soul. When the cab drew up to the discreet entrance to the doctor’s offices, I reached into the sports bag and took out a long chain leash, then clipped it to the front waist ring of her belt. I pulled her deep hood back up and over her head and she shivered violently then lay back on the seat, twisting and fighting her arm bondage while I paid the driver. It took but seconds to assist her from the cab, then we stood quietly until he’d taken off for his next fare.

The street was almost devoid of people, it now being late in the afternoon, and so I strode quickly away from her to the full length of the leash, then drew her along the side walk at the end of it to the door of the Doctor’s office. Part of Susan didn’t want to have anything to do with what was about to happen, yet another, the dominant part, longed for it and wanted to enjoy the experience as much as possible. Nevertheless, she fought strenuously against the command of her tether, jerking, writhing, and resisting my strength.

We reached the office some five minutes later with her panting and gasping after her struggles, beside me now, for I held her short-leashed and close while I rang the bell and waited to be admitted. The door buzzed quietly and I opened it to reveal a modern interior that would not have been expected, given the exterior of the building. A nurse, dressed in the usual starched whites of her profession, greeted us quietly, then directed me to take my charge along the hall to the small surgery to await the arrival of the doctor. Susan’ strange costuming and the noise of her boots seemed not to phase the nurse in the slightest and neither did the sight of her leash. I supposed that she saw a lot of this sort of thing while I took Susan to the appointed room. Inside, it too belied the external appearance of the building, being more modern in appearance and equipment than many regular hospitals. The only major difference I could see was that the operating table and the dental-type chair seemed to be endowed with a plethora of thick, wide restraint straps than would normally not be in evidence.

“Ah! Good afternoon!” a middle-aged man in a white smock greeted us, entering the room almost silently from the door we had come in by. “And so this is Lady Susan, is it?”

“Yes, this is she.” I acknowledged. “We can begin anytime that you’re ready, Doctor.”

“Very well. Would you remove her cape and other clothing please?”

I did as he asked, revealing her state of utter helplessness and gagging, then he circled around, inspecting the luscious, almost naked female body restrained before him. He stopped in front and knelt to look up into her eyes.

“Do you, of your own free will, and without coercion of any kind, Lady Susan, agree to having these piercings done? Once embedded in your body, young woman, they will be quite permanent. Please blink your eyes twice, two times, to show that you agree. If you do not so agree, everything will stop right now. Do you understand? And so, I will expect two sets of the doubled blink from you.”

I watched with careful attention, then counted to myself while she acknowledged his questions, assenting to the piercings.

“Very well!” the doctor smiled and stood up. “Let’s get you into the chair and secured, then I’ll call the nurse and we’ll prep. you for the procedures.”

Susan walked slowly to the gleaming chair, then slowly sat down on the thin, black rubber padding. Her fastening was done quickly and efficiently once I’d released her arms and hobble chain. From the sides of the seat, two sturdy belts were clipped to restraint rings of her belt, then the Doctor secured her upper arms, wrists, and legs. Other wide belts went around her chest above and below her breasts, and he brought out a special harness to immobilize her head, as soon as I’d slackened the gag’s mounting to the collar. She remained leashed at all times.

Small whimpers of fear and arousal came from my fastened lady while I stood beside her, looking down into her eyes. Susan had decided to remain gagged for most of the procedures and I honoured her desire, so now she waited. The doctor called in the nurse and that worthy slipped into the room, already masked, then brought over a bottle of alcohol and some sterile swabs just as the doctor pressed a series of buttons on a hand-held control for the chair. It whined quietly and seconds later Susan had been stretched and bent into the posture that would afford him the easiest access to her body. Her muscles strained in thrumming ropes under her skin when she fought the machinery, but of course her struggles were of no use, for its hydraulics easily overpowered her.

Now, the nurse began the process of preparing the sites of her piercings and although Susan surged against the heavy straps, she could barely twitch. Small hissing screams began to come from her flared nostrils, and the doctor stopped his own preparations.

“Are you still willing to go through with this, young woman? Acknowledge in the same manner, please.”

She did as he requested and he immediately returned to his work with only the small clinks and rattles of instruments being prepared sounding in the otherwise silent white room. He drew over a small table, its surface covered with a sterile white cloth and here lay all of the piercing tools that would be used, plus the selection of heavy, gleaming, stainless steel jewellery that would soon be irrevocably mounted in her flesh.

“I’ll work from the top down.” he said quietly, looking at me above the covering of his mask, snapping rubber gloves authoritatively onto his hands.

“Excellent!” I acknowledged, standing back a little. “That’s how I want it done.”

The nurse reached over and carefully swabbed both the external and internal portions of Susan’ nostrils then stepped back. A second later the doctor had fitted two small, hollow, conical tubes into her nostrils and I heard the whistle of her panicky breathing suddenly become very audible. The moment of truth had arrived. The doctor held a thick-gauged needle, virtually a dermal punch that would core through the tissue, firmly in his hand then slowly and carefully brought it to the right side of her nose. Her eyes widened dramatically when she saw the instrument, then suddenly snapped shut. He Slowly twirled the needle while the tip sank into her nostril flesh, cutting a large hole, and a wailing scream erupted from her throat under the snug steel collar and gag. Her eyes clenched with the intense pain of the insertion and she tried desperately to fling her head away from it; but she was far too firmly held. The slowly spinning dermal punch continued its advance, into and through her flesh, sundering the surface layers of skin on the inside of the nostril flap, then the septum, and finally her other nostril! With each transfixion of a skin surface, her screams grew louder and more violent and all the while she writhed and twisted dementedly against her bonds, but at last it was done, leaving the thick, tubular needle still in place, thrust completely through her nose. Of course there was some blood and this mixed with the streams of tears flowing down her cheeks, but the nurse quickly wiped the mixture away, then handed the doctor the steel pieces that would fit within the piercings. He, in the meantime, slowly withdrew the thick shaft from her flesh, then accepted the first parts of her jewellery. These consisted of a the two halves of a wide-flanged, stainless steel grommet, and were immediately slipped up into each of her flared nostrils, then carefully forced through the holes in the cones embedded within them. The tubes of the grommet’s halves next passed through the now pierced cartilage of her septum and slid into each other. The doctor next retrieved a long nosed tool from the table and slipped the heavy jaws up into her nose. He spent a moment positioning and aligning the ends properly in her septum grommet, then slowly closed the compound levered handles. His hands whitened with the strain of forcing the tough stainless steel into a new shape, but a moment later a solid sounding click came and he withdrew the tool.



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Inside her nostrils, the two dilating cones had now been locked firmly together, securely held in place by the heavy grommet. They’d be impossible to remove. Next, he took a short but relatively thick rod, and dipped it into an antiseptic solution then carefully and slowly inserted it into the right, outer nostril’s wound. The shaft slipped in with only slight resistance from the slowly closing flesh, then he picked up the U shackle and slipped its arms up into her nose. Only then did he continue with the insertion of the bar. Its end passed through the holes in the outer side of the inner steel cone, then the arm of the U, the grommet through her septum, and finally out through the other side of her nose. He carefully screwed it into the grommet until it was securely mounted.

The bar’s rounded ends stuck out through the sides of her nose, the small holes in them clearly visible, and he minutely inspected the work so far, then picked up a small set of surgical pliers and two opened, small rings. These, he quickly mounted through these end holes, then closed and locked both with the pliers. To ensure they couldn’t be removed, he took a miniature welding rig and after covering her staring eyes with a protective mask, he expertly welded the rings closed. He stood back again, allowing me to move in and inspect these newest signs of my possession. Susan lay in the chair gasping and weeping from the pain and discomfort of the piercing, but more so from the knowledge that she would now always wear the steel in her nose unable to remove it from herself. Her eyes stared up at me, glazed with reaction to what had been done. She had thought that she was to only get a septum ring.

“Certainly looks good!” I complimented her and the doctor.

“Very impressive!” he agreed. “Shall we continue? I plan to do her tongue next.”

“By all means! Let’s do this right. Please wait a minute while I remove her gag.”

I removed the key to the metal face strap from my pocket and unlocked the band that sealed her face. It took some strong pulls to get the mouth pad to release its sucking grasp, then it plopped from her mouth with a wet sucking sound.

“W-w-water, please.” came the weak gasp. The nurse supplied a small paper cup and got a whispered “Thank you.”

“Now Susan,” the doctor said in a businesslike voice, “I’m going to pierce your tongue a number of times. I will need your assistance to do it properly. You’ll have to stick it out quite far, and hold it there while I perform the piercings. I’ll be as quick as I can with them.”

“O-O-OK.”she whispered up at him from within her confining head harness.

“Good! Now, open wide and stick it out.”

She complied immediately and a second later the first thick needle sank quickly through the straining muscle. Her tongue felt the needle passing through it, once on the right side of the central groove, then again on the other side. Lady Susan gasped and began to weep from the painful and intimate penetrating sensation, then felt the cold, short, steel thickness of the shaft of each barbell slipped into the new holes in her straining flesh, emerging from its top. With continual pants and small wails, she kept her tongue extruded, then waited in fear while he slowly forced the upper balls down onto the posts until they pressed firmly into the sensitive upper surface. The pressure increased, then came a firm click! on the right side. Seconds later the same sound came from the left. The balls had been permanently locked onto the short posts.

“OK, Susan, they’re in place now. You can rest for a moment while we ready the side rings and their needles.”

A small wail of release from the horrible penetration and transfixion pulsed from her encased throat and she moved her metal-endowed tongue within her mouth, feeling it surge uncomfortably against the steel driven through it, unable to believe how much more the barbells add to her feeling of being bound. The balls underneath were also very disturbing, for they continually made her conscious of their presence; but the ones pressing into the upper surface were the worst, for they would definitely be seen by those she’d talk to, when permitted to show her face, if not already gagged.

“Time for the side rings. Open up and stick it out again, please.” the doctor requested.

She closed her eyes, then fearfully opened her mouth once more and gradually slid her tongue out. Her hesitant exposure of the already pierced muscle was bypassed when a pair of special forceps gripped it firmly then drew it even further outwards, eliciting a despairing moan. Suddenly, the next needle pressed through her flesh and another warbling wail was torn from her. It rebounded from the walls of the room when he forced the first small ring through the hole and clamped it firmly closed. The next 2 rings on that side of were quickly placed, and during the procedure she couldn’t stop the continual moans that arose from the deepest corners of her soul, knowing that these rings would not be removed either. The restraints of her tongue would mark her most intimately and personally as my property, even though hidden from the outer world much of the time.

More whimpering was riven from her when the left side of her tongue was similarly fitted with the tightly clamped rings, but at last it was over. The forceps were released, and gratefully she withdrew her tongue, feeling with horror the plethora of steel that punctured and imprisoned it. Within her mouth, it rattled against her teeth and she felt the metallic banging as though the implements were the size of ship’s anchors. She didn’t speak immediately, fearful to attempt it for the moment; wondering, when she continued to move her tongue experimentally, how she would articulate now. I stared down while the doctor released the head restraint harness.

“Are you all right Susan?”

“I-I-I think tho.” she whispered while I wiped the still streaming tears from her eyes and cheeks.

She was obviously embarrassed by the sudden lisping speech that the rings and bar-bells imposed; but that was yet another of the conditions she would have to live with from now on. Her strapped down, thickly cuffed hands and arms struggled to be free, and when she tried to sit up, the lock that held the ring at the back of her wide collar, to its fitting on the chair suddenly snapped tight, jerking the snug encirclement around her neck and making her choke for a until she subsided.

“Very well, Susan.” the doctor said. “Next we’ll do your nipples; then we’ll proceed to your clitoris and its hood rings. After that, we’ll do your labia with the other 6 rings along each, making 14 all told.”

“Y-y-yeth, thir.” she continued to whisper, distinctly unhappy with the effect of the rings and bar-bells, but forever unable to escape them.

The full globes of her magnificent breasts heaved with nervousness while the nurse quickly swabbed the dark brown nipples and areolae with the alcohol-dipped swabs, making the little turrets stand up fully and impudently, ready for their newest adornments. With one rubber-gloved finger and thumb, he grasped the rampant nubbin of flesh and drew it outwards, then swiftly pressed the thick needle into and through its base. Susan moaned with shock from the sudden piercing, then howled shrilly while it pressed deeper and deeper, until finally through the tumescent and shivering mount. She continued gasping and moaning while he pressed the thick shaft that closed the top of the U through the hole, then stared fascinated when he placed the shackle itself between the ends of a pair of reverse pliers and slowly spread its strongly resisting spring-steel arms apart. He slipped the U over the ends of the shaft and carefully positioned it, then the jaws slowly came together and the steel arms closed over the ends, locking it onto her breast. There was now no way for her to be able to free herself of the shackle unless she had that particular type of tool, or she cut it out of herself. Five minutes later, her left breast was similarly a captive and she stared down at herself disbelievingly. I could see that she longed to touch the things embedded in her body; but that would not be permitted for some time yet. All she would be permitted to experience would be the tension I applied after I leashed her by them.

The next additions to her breasts made her howl and continue weeping after they’d been fitted. At my direction, the doctor fitted nipple stretcher cages; these consisting of large steel rings that encircled the darker flesh of her aureoles; each with a pair of diametrically opposed, inverted V’s. Once placed over the apex of each breast he slowly and inexorably pulled outwards on the pendant U shackle until the nipple it captured was horribly tensioned, then the bar through her strained flesh, snapped into the recess at the top of the inverted V. A retaining collar was clipped over each end of each bar, locking the entire assembly securely in place. Susan shook and wailed plaintively, desperate to have them removed. They would stay in place.

“Time for your clitoral and hood rings.” The doctor intoned.

I saw her inner thigh muscles tense then strain against the thick straps, striving desperately to close her thighs and somehow protect herself against this next assault on her body; but there was nothing she could do, and he touched the control buttons again. The chair rose 12" then bent itself into a bow with Susan on the outer part, her flattening breasts making the torment of her newly installed nipple jewellery even more intense. Next, he rotated the seat portion until her spread and vulnerable crotch was blatantly presented; her head held low to the floor. He touched another button and Susan’s legs were slowly spread even wider apart. She moaned deep in her throat from the humiliating exposure; but none of us paid her pitiful noises any attention. The gold rings already present were easily cut, then the nurse and doctor swabbed the area with alcohol and the same types of shackles that now captured the tips of her breasts were quickly mounted in the pouting, fleshy labia. Each brought forth a soft moaning wail when their shackles snapped closed.

The additional piercings of her vaginal lips went very quickly from that point, and half an hour later I again had her gagged and fully dressed, still leashed. I adjusted her face strap once more so that she was forced to look downwards, then fitted her facial veil and pulled up the hood. Beneath the cape she suffered her new and heavily tugging jewellery with small whimpers, for I had taken a lengthy, thick, gold chain and joined her nipples, then hung a heavy pendant from the centre link, as well as another heavy weight from the tip of each breast so that when she walked, she would feel their constant tension on this most sensitive flesh. Similarly, between her legs, I had affixed other dangling chains to hang from her clitoral and labia rings, each one separate and having a small, hollow weight attached. They would be annoying reminders to her when she walked, swinging back and forth between her legs in a constant frenzy of twisting links, the hollow little cylinders sounding out their musical chiming of her bondage. The weights were, of course, all locked on, and so she would have to suffer them, like it or not. She’d stood quietly while I completed these additions; but then, when I tugged on her leash to take her from the office, and she took her first step, she suddenly realized just how deeply she’d been made a slave when the chains swirled and the chimes sounded from beneath her heavy, long skirts. She balked at the end of the leash, resisting my demand to leave; but a minute later had to follow, or fall to the floor. The nurse had already called a cab and so we walked slowly outside into the rainy evening.

While we waited, I paced back and forth on the deserted sidewalk, towing her along behind me at the end of her tether, listening to the muffled ringing of her bells and the clatter of her hoofed boots on the dirty cement of the cracked sidewalk. Certainly, it was an humiliating and educational experience; but she knew, now, that there was no escape from this, her new life. She was my possession: marked, pierced, and belled as one, and there was nothing she could do to escape it.

She really didn’t want to though.


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Friday, July 18, 2014  

I'd say this was typical of a person who is not aware of his/her own mortality. What is to become of the slave subject upon the owners demise?

Sunday, March 16, 2014  

I see that a lot of comments are about tattooing. I like the story and would too to see her tattooed. I love to see a well tattooed woman, but to know that she is tattooed against her will, makes it so much more exciting. I favor very much tattooing her face. Can anything be more humiliating ?
Nice story though and keep up the good works !
B. R. Eyes

Tuesday, September 17, 2013  

One of my all time fav stories I have to admit.
I'm glad you didn't go too far with other facial piercings like many do. Permanent earrings, with tags naming her specialties on them, in upper holes can go a long way to advertise in public. Though, practically speaking, starting the tongue with tight fitting barbels is not good as it swells up a lot the first couple weeks and this could lead to major infection and even death. Maybe add dental implants so her outer tongue ring piercings can be attached to her bottom teeth when desired or a large gauge grommet in the center so that it can be swapped with large penis shaped studs, large hoops that force her mouth to stay open, or to accommodate a long rod with a spring notch in the center, or a padlock, that can simply be inserted, that is too large to fit through her teeth, to keep her tongue out of her mouth when desired. Or it can be used to lock to her septum shackle. I knew a girl whose owner liked to keep her as a pet, AND length her tongue, so he had a significant weight stud made to attach to her tongue to keep it hanging out of her mouth for periods. It wasn't too heavy that she couldn't pull it in, but in the long term it was easier and less strenuous to let it hang out.

No navel piercings? How about one at top and one at bottom of navel to permanently mount a barbell through both with a large, noticeably sparkly, irremovable, gem engraved with her master's crest overlying and superglued into the navel?

A little tattooing or branding in non-public spots (well on her cheeks, tongue, gums, inside lip, or eyelids, only if you really want to stare at them the whole time you own her), with degrading and/or ownership text detailing her past history and things you feel she is the best at (and which she hates doing the most), can be erotic (as well as serve as great tips to future owners) to make sure she ALWAYS remains in nothing more than her current social position, in ANY future relationship, even if she is no longer with you. piercings can ALWAYS be removed one way or another, tattoos or brands are nearly impossible to remove completely, especially if she can't earn the money to do so. "If found, spank, F#@$ and THEN call xxx for $big reward" is a good one. "Cum slut" or "anal slut" are classics. "I have (your choice of incurable STD)" just above her pussy makes sure she never gets any again. "I heart cum/cock" on her tongue or gums. but my favorite is
Finally, definitely need bells on the clit and nipples and definitely in any piercings to constantly remind her of her place (yes, they are irritating to listen to if she sleeps with you, but they can be removable as well.)
Keep up the terrific work! I'll keep reading.

Sunday, May 05, 2013  

Nice story, but I would like to see much more tattooing, maybe some gorgeous colorful tattooing on her face? Maybe some facial cosmetic surgery, permanent eyebrows, eyeliner, black outlined red lips. Maybe enlarging her lips into real kissers...
I wish I could write like you though...

Sunday, May 05, 2013  

Great fantasy! I always fantasize to fix up my ex-wife like this.
I cut her hair too in an extremely short cut, but not totally shiny bald.
Further more I want her to get extensively tattooed.
Just for good measure, I imagine her earlobes stretching to a great lenth.
Maybe some cosmetic surgery to enhance her feminine sexuality.
Just a few ssuggestions for further writings.
Keep it up !
Eugene.

Thursday, March 28, 2013  

Great Story! Hopefully she will have her breast enlarged, and some tattoos!

Monday, February 18, 2013  

Susan is a slave with severe piercings but she is still very rebellious in her mind. Hopefully we find out her situation as the story progresses! Great story.

Monday, February 06, 2012  

A cool story she is truly owned. Too bad she wasn't given a list and made to ask for the permanent modifications her self to increase the humiliation. Thanks and keep writing

Wednesday, January 11, 2012  

Is it possible to send me some pics or sketches from how the piercings are done? (marb_willems@hotmail.com) Nice story though!!!

Thursday, August 25, 2011  

please get more stories JG his writing is excellent keep up the good work

Saturday, November 26, 2005  

Between the pierced parts and the hoofed boots, do we see a ponygirl in the making?

Monday, November 21, 2005  

Exactly my fantasy!

Monday, October 31, 2005  

Mr. Leathers is one of my favorites. Most of his stories take our heroine so far over the top, that she learns to regret her decision. I wonder if that will happen to Lady Susan?

Great story!

Alexis

Sunday, October 30, 2005  

Excellent story!! Kind of makes me think of where "Controlling Christine" might end up. Love your work, Sir.

Ozzy


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