Message-ID: <18233eli$>
X-Archived-At: <URL:>
From: (Thomas M Quin)
Subject: {ASS} SSK: The Partners Prolog (NC, B&D, M/F)
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <>
X-Story-Submission: <>
X-Original-Message-ID: <>

                                     STANDARD DISCLAIMER

The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and 
has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is
found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the author.

The author explicitly prohibits.

1) The posting of this story in an incomplete form. 

2) The use of this story in a larger work without his express 

3) The use of this story on any CD, BBS or Website without the
    written permission of the author.

This work is copyright 1998. 

All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to 
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this
story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.


The Partners by Rob


	Mitch climbed up the four wooden, creaky steps leading to the
front porch of his seventy-five year old Cape Cod cottage which was
set quite a way back from the single lane road which led to Mitch's
property.  Working in a downtown law firm as he did, Mitch regarded it
as quite a coup when the two acre lot with the handyman special
cottage in the country came on the market.  Granted, it was some
thirty miles or so from the downtown law office where Mitch worked,
but if he left early enough, he could usually beat the early morning
rush hour traffic.  It was a small house, nothing luxurious by any
stretch of the imagination, just a single story home with an eat-in
kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, one bathroom and an unfinished
basement.  One day, he would fix it up, but for now it sufficed as a
refuge from the city where he spent most of his time during the week
and on the occasional weekend.  

	Besides, he didn't buy it for the house; he bought it because
it was affordable and tucked away in the woods where he could enjoy
the peaceful clean air.  The house gave him the best of both worlds.
It was nice and secluded, but convenient for his daily commute since
the expressway, which led to the city in one direction and to New
England in the other, was only five miles away.  On the downside,
since the town had zoning laws that required all property lots to be
at least two acres, he rarely saw his neighbors so he was
occasionally lonely.

	It was early Saturday morning and Mitch had just biked roughly
ten miles, a lot more than he was used to riding, but it was worth it.
He breathed deep as he peddled from the mall ten miles away back to
his sleepy little cottage in the woods.  As he unlocked the door to
his home with a key that hung from a chain draped around his neck,
Mitch gave a backward glance to his bicycle, which was propped against
the wooden railing on the left side of the porch. No need to lock it
up or put it back in the detached garage behind the cottage.  This was
the country and crime here was minuscule.  Besides, even if he was
worried about theft, which he wasn't, the house was set so far from
the road that no one could see the small cottage let alone the racing
bike that was left out front.

	As he entered the living room of his home, he wiped the sweat
from his brow. The bike ride had been longer than usual and took him
up many more hills than his normal weekend riding routine.  Still, he
was satisfied with the morning's accomplishment because, he admitted
to himself, not only was the ten mile trek pretty impressive, but,
after a quick shower, the efforts of his unplanned labor would be
rewarded.  It was a holiday weekend so he had three days away from the
office to just relax and enjoy his country home.

	He closed the door behind him and shouted across the living
room in the direction of the bedroom.  "Hey, Wendy. I'm back. The bike
ride took longer than I thought but I'm finally back.  Everything okay
while I was gone?"

Silence.  "You all right, honey?" he asked again.

	Receiving no reply, he walked across the living room and
opened the door to the master bedroom.  There on the bed, scantily
clad only in sky blue bikini panties, was a thin girl with brownish
blonde hair worn in a chignon.  Thegirl was face down on Mitch's bed,
her ankles tied tightly with white nylon cord to her thighs with each
of her hands tied in turn to the opposite ankle.
She was face down with her backside in the air and as Mitch entered
the room, she looked up at him and he saw that the black handball he
had packed in her mouth was still in place, held there by some white
surgical tape from Mitch's first aid kit.  She looked at him with
pleading blue eyes, eyes that betrayed a hint of anger.  

	"Oh, I'm sorry, Wendy," he laughed.  "I forgot.  You're all
tied and gagged. Well," he said with a trace of sarcasm.  "If
everything's not all right now, I'm sure it will be as soon as I take
my shower.  See you in a few."


To send E-mail to the Author please remove the _NS_ from the return

This story was brought to you by the SSK. Lots more ORIGINAL bondage
fiction, 5000 NEW
unpublished bondage pictures, great contests, photo stories and more
await you at.....

THE bondage site.


 To contact the Author Please remove the _NS_
from the return address.

5000 NEW UNPOSTED Pictures    New Original Fiction

  ####     ##     ####    ####   ######  #####
 #    #   #  #   #    #  #    #  #       #    #
 #       #    #  #       #       #####   #    #
 #  ###  ######  #  ###  #  ###  #       #    #
 #    #  #    #  #    #  #    #  #       #    #
  ####   #    #   ####    ####   ######  #####         THE Bondage Site

All content in this site is original, exclusive, 
and continously updated, focusing on beautiful 
young women, mouth-packing gags and tight sexy

+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <> | <> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |