Growing up, there'd always been music playing, or people talking. Now, here alone, my mind liked to play tricks. I kept imagining things.I looked up i...to the darkened window after I finished my stir fry, and thought, for just a split second that I saw a face. I wouldn't have thought much of it, but there was one thing that shone out at me. Red hair.Irish, red hair. The kind that normally you only see from a bottle. It was the one image that stuck in my mind as I looked closer at the window. It. Our house sat at the southern end of the Robledo Mountains facing North and South. The top of Picacho Peak was just visible over the base of the mountains in the background highlighted by the glow of lights from Las Cruces in the early evening light.Everything was perfect. Everything except the colors, which was what tipped me off that this was a dream. The picnic table looked burnt orange instead of fire engine red, the barbeque grill and outdoor kitchen area looked gray instead of midnight. There's a suspended and very uncomfortable cage where they'll put me to rot for a few weeks and a whip waiting for poor little Annie here, when they find out. You could do yourself a bit of good by denouncing us, if and when they rescue you!"Francesca said nothing. The effort of speaking had exhausted her, and she fell into a long and deep sleep. By the time she woke up, only Annie was at her side. She asked after the absent Joanne."Gone to look at the other side of the island again. She says. All in an effort to get away from the cold metal feeling that appeared at the entrance to her tight exposed ass.Bunny kept squealing and trying to lift her ass away from the feeling that something was sliding into her captive backside. It was metallic and cold and growing wider by the second. Stretching and filling her up in a way that was both painful and fantastically arousing to her.Her husband, her Master, reappeared in front of her. She raised her eyes upward, peering thru her thick lashes.