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Smiling expectantly, Brad walked into the kitchen but his smile disappeared when he saw the kitchen was empty. Usually the two girls would be in the kitchen cooking dinner by that stage and he wondered if he had forgotten they were going to be late home. That didn’t make sense though, both of their cars were in the driveway and the door was unlocked. He went over to the big bay window that looked out over the backyard but the only movement out there were a few birds hopping around on the soggy post-rain grass. “I’m home,” Brad called out; his greeting went unreturned. Perhaps they’d gone for a walk, he decided, as he made his way down the hallway toward their bedroom. He would get out of his stuffy business clothes and get into something suitable for a night of lounging on the couch with the loves of his life. A grin spread across his face when he opened the bedroom door, revealing Stella lying spread-eagled on the bed moaning quietly, while Carly focused the attentions of her tongue. I extracted the butt plug painfully and my insides emptied, leaving me purified. I hurried to blow dry my hair and freshen-up my make up. I applied lubricant liberally to my thoroughly scrubbed ass. He opened the door without knocking as I finished, wordlessly re-tied my hands behind my back and blindfolded me. He led me down a long corridor. I heard the sound of Tran's voice sobbing, and shuddered in empathy of her suffering and in anticipation of my own. My master halted me with a yank at my shoulder, then pushed me forward onto my knees. My torso tumbled forward onto a padded platform. He pushed cotton into my ears, and I was plunged into silence and blindness. My eyes strained to detect shadows, my ears for any sound. I heard muffled booms and cries, and felt phantoms passing though the room, but I was left alone. Sensory deprivation combined with apprehension to bring me to a near panic state. I breathed as steadily as I could, but was haunted by memories of the crackhouse,.
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