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MEMORIES OF LONG TALL MARY Part 17 by Long Tall Mary
It was indeed nauseating to engage in this type of chicanery with the snooty Bitch K but it was necessary for my blackmail scheme to succeed. I was covertly video and audio taping the encounter and while my first preference would have been to forcibly confine Bitch K in my dungeon it was essential to be able to show that the seduction was consensual on her part. So far I was doing quite well.
I then suggested that she take a tour of my dungeon and that if we hit it off I could arrange for her to dominate a male sub. She readily accepted and after removing her sweatshirt and bra we walked hand in hand down the stairs. I couldn't help but notice that her breasts and nipples were extremely underdeveloped probably a congenital condition. Proceeding gingerly I attached her to the overhead bar with leather cuffs and showed her some of my corporal punishment tools. I gave her several gentle strokes on her buttocks with a crop before releasing her as I didn't want to push her too hard and to change her mind.
Part of my strategy was to induce Bitch K to make some oral statements that would undermine her credibility as a feminist ideologue. Once again I was successful as she confessed to being frustrated because of sexual rejection by males in her teen age years, that she an inferiority complex because of her underdeveloped breasts and that it wouldn't trouble her a bit to inflict torture upon a male.
We then reached the point where I felt comfortable of broaching the possibility of Bitch K calling off her planned protest at the support group meeting. I was fully prepared to reveal the existence of the tapes but to my pleasant surprise it wasn't necessary as she readily agreed to call off this months planned protest but was non committal as to future meetings. She then dressed and departed. I went upstairs, poured myself another martini and replayed the tape several times reveling in delight that I had compromised the fraudulent feminist bitch. The support group meeting went off without a hitch.
Several days later as I set watching a porn video in my living room my cell phone rang and upon answering it I was astounded to hear the voice of Mad Max. His message was cryptic: could he stop over in about a half hour. With Max you just don't say no but I was immediately concerned at the prospect of harboring a fugitive. Within twenty minutes a 16' moving van pulled into the driveway with Max driving and another female in the passenger seat. Max looking not much different than when I last saw him climbed out and immediately asked me if he could use my dungeon for no more than a day to store some "merchandise" of his.
Thinking that he was referring to the front seat passenger I readily agreed but to my surprise and consternation Max and the female opened the rear cargo door of the van and moments later were escorting a person clad in an orange jail jumpsuit into my garage. The captive's facial features were concealed by a ski mask turned backwards and hands and feet were in manacles. I quickly donned my own ski mask to prevent identification and escorted them to the basement.
The captive was quickly placed in my cell, the manacles and ski mask being removed. This enabled me to catch a glimpse of a young looking petit blond female before the three of us went upstairs leaving the captive locked in the cell. I tried to form an impression of the female who had accompanied Max in the front seat but what little I could see was quite negative. She was about 30 years old, a red head with short punk rock style hair, about 5'6 and 150 pounds dressed like Max in a black leather jacket and blue jeans. So far she had avoided eye contact and had not said a word to me. The bitch was giving me the chills.
As we sat in the living room I flipped on the dungeon channel on my TV allowing us to view and hear the captive, not surprisingly she appeared quite forlorn and dejected. Max volunteered limited information on the situation and I knew better than to press for details. Since being on the lam he had taken up residence with a cult in New Mexico. Headed by a Koresh like figure the cult espoused male supremacy with the female members considered communal property and required to wear veils when in the compound. Max stated the regimen was far more repressive than the Taliban had ever been with intensive mental indoctrination coupled with physical and sexual torture.
The red head was a member of the cult and had accompanied Mad Max on a special mission which involved relocating to a new compound in the mountains of Maine. He offered little information on the captive other than she had been a street hooker in Cleveland and had been "acquired" by the cult. The red head he explained was forbidden to speak to anyone outside the cult without permission and he wasn't about to permit it, she would sleep on the floor in Max's bedroom.
The thought of harboring a fugitive in addition to a red headed mind controlled bitch and an abducted female did little for my peace of mind. The night was still very young and I couldn't wait for it to end.
END PART 17
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