Should he gag her first or tie her ankles? She slumped back again, her head lolling limply, a trickle of dust from the wall above coursing down across...her forehead. There wasn’t much risk of her either running or crying out, Clegg decided. Since he still had cords in his hand he lashed her ankles together, his hands brushing across her nylon covered calves. ?It isn’t easy,? Clegg, thought. ?Too much risk of being distracted. People don’t appreciate how hard I have to work to keep my mind on. And to add to my vulnerability and humiliation I realize that my pussy is dripping wet. I am terrified that my stockings are going to give me away… There in the glass-enclosed walkway, I realize that it has gotten late enough in the day to become dark. Master stops me to “look at the view, the city lights” at the beginning of the walkway. It is very well-lit inside. I look down to notice that the traffic below has come to a complete stop at a traffic light. My Master is holding me from. I followed them and soon woundup at the entrance of the club, located in what seemed like a repurposedindustrial building. A team of bouncers sorted the gang of partygoers intoa reasonably organized queue, and after a short negotiation they leteveryone in, including the drunkard. The burly, bald man who seemed to bein charge of the other two security personnel smiled at me as he opened thedoor for me. The admission was free tonight, but as I stood in line, Ichecked my purse and discovered that. “Almost but not quite. But you understand what I am trying to say, right?” “Of course. I knew before you said it. I just wanted to hear you say it.” He laughed again, his own large hand came to his head, rubbing it, his face turned, eyes looking at an empty table located to the side of them before he returned his gaze to the amateur wrestler. The waiter then came, bringing water, bread, and a few other rather interesting trinkets along with him. The butter was amazing, slightly pink and orange.