Blind Date

Opal on the other hand was quite verbal . . . "She is ready, no more stalling." That said she walks across the room to the pile of leather and removes a small piece of wood with leather thongs attached to the ends. She puts the bar between Janets' knees and ties it in place, forcing her ankles about thirty inches apart. Opal then picks up a thin bamboo stick and quickly strikes Janet to the back of her thighs. Janet jumps with the first impact and screams into her gag with the third or fourth. By eight or nine I have reached Opal and grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Finish what you have started, or leave and I will." I believed her. With that Opal stomped back out of the room. Janet was still gasping for breath and staring at the doorway Opal had marched out of. I gave her two more wacks with the bamboo stick, to refocus her attention. As I moved back into her she started making noises like I had selected the wrong hole. In fact she was indicating that she wanted me in the wrong hole. That worked okay, but was considerably tighter. When we had finished the rubber remained in her.

I started to release her and was instructed by both women to leave her alone. To get dressed, return to the parlor and wait for them. I did as I was told. Janet screamed for another good ten minutes after I closed the door to the room. Not going back into that room was the hardest thing I have ever done.

Half an hour later, Janet walked into the parlor looking as if nothing had just happened, no white face, no kimono. She asked if we could go to the local soft-serve ice cream parlor for desert. I told her it would be my pleasure and treat. I asked if Opal would be joining us?

"Who is Opal?" She said.

"The woman who just helped us this past hour."

"Helped us do what?"

"What? You know what." Wink - wink.

"No I don't - you must be imagining things. Does you head still hurt?"