As I walked into her kitchen, I saw her waiting for me with a stern expression. In one hand, she held a hefty riding crop, in the other, a roll of duct tape. “Is… is everything okay?” I asked quietly. Susan’s expression suggested it wasn’t. She held out her hand. “Give me your thong and get on the table.” She said quietly. Dreading the worst, I stepped out of my cum-soaked thong and handed it to her, then sat on the edge of her large dining table. “Face down… spread eagled.” Susan corrected me. I quickly backed over to the middle of the table, turned around onto my belly and pointed my hands and feet at the corners. The table was so big, I didn’t even reach them. Susan walked around me. Taking each of my ankles, she wrapped the duct tape around them, and then wrapped the same piece around their respective table legs. She walked to the front of the table and did the same to my wrists, so I couldn’t move at all. I tried struggling, but sure enough, I was completely at her mercy. . As she pushed through the door he bent down, she never saw it coming as she tripped over him; the tea cascaded all over his back.The howling and pain was worthy of an academy award, the woman almost passed out with shock, the word sorry kept repeating out of her mouth, Bob carried on, "Jesus your old man warned us about you, you wait till we see him."The woman was shaking, "No, no please I'll clean it up, are you burnt, is there anything I could do?" those last five words were just what Bob wanted to hear, "Yes there fucking well is, where's your bathroom?"Still playing the indignant fury Bob marched past her and up the stairs; she hurried behind still being apologetic. Bobs eyes caught sight of the bedroom to his left as he followed her directions to the bathroom.Once in there he pulled off his shirt and slung it on the floor, then he did the same with his trousers making no move to close the door, she stood out side.Bob bellowed, "You, what's your name," a little muted, "Pauline,".
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