I remember laughing at her warning that I would look good enough to fuck in it. Oh, yes, I did say my wife. You see I am her cross-dressing slave slut...husband. When I turned to the mirror I could see that she was right.This was supposed to be a hot play party. Unfortunately my lady wouldn't get there till after 11. I was told to go and be a good girl until then. There were most of our regular party animals attending along with a good many I hadn't met. I noticed many of our leather friends from. ”“I think I was a pawn in a secret fairy war,” I smiled.“That’ll explain it,” Hank nodded. His beer was empty. He looked over the yard a last time. “But seriously, turning over the sod and dumping down that topsoil? That’s not what I signed up for.”“Good point,” I agreed. “Basement, and then I’ll show you upstairs.”We didn’t move in a hurry. Max took our empty beer bottles. We replaced those before we opened the door off the kitchen and headed down into the mostly finished basement.I found the. He should've taken the lift. A bit exhausted he reaches the target floor. Immediately he notices weird souncs coming from further down the corridor. Rhythmic bumps, a muffled voice? Two voices? It's really hard to tell... With one heavy bag of luggage in each hand he hurries along the hallway towards the source of the commotion. Room 4.69. Standing right in front of the door he thinks he can even perceive muffled screams mixed with slapping and bumping. Is someone being beaten up in there??. Carol brought me back to reality. “Sydney, the art fair is coming up in a few weeks, are we going to take any pieces over?” “Yeah, that’s a good idea. It’ll give the gallery some recognition.” I said half-heartedly. Carol looked at me as though she wanted to ask a thousand things and that was all that came out. She had always reminded me of my Aunt Margaret. She had the same short dark hair, speckled with gray. Her wire-rimmed glasses always slipped to the end of her nose. She never looked at.