Eleanor of Penkhull Ch. 04

Sundown in the town of Mogadishu, Somalia. With the darkness settling across the land, honest citizens retreated to their homes to await the return of the sun. The age-old metropolis has seen better days, but it has withstood everything from natural disasters to a brief American military invasion, and prior to that, multiple wars with neighboring Ethiopia and Italy, to name but a few. It is the town that Asha Elmi calls home, and she wouldn't trade it for the world. For three decades now, Asha has been the Xamuul Marwada or Sentinel Lady, a burden which she embraces with all of her might. Peace is seldom long-lasting in Somalia, or anywhere on the planet earth, really. For a time due to covid, the radical groups stopped with their attacks upon urban centers, giving metropolitan Somalis a false sense of security. Deep down inside, the Somali people knew that the peace would not last. They hoped that the radicals had grown tired of killing and become cowed by the global plague. The

Darla's Blindfold February roars violently from out of the west across the flat expanse of white fields surrounding the sprawling ranch home. Window panes rattle in their frames. The rattle reverberates at Darla Weston's ear. Sleet peppers white cold frosted glass. Fear follows the blow that shook the rafters over her head and beyond the wood and the glass the temperature continues to plummet. "David?" Darla calls out questioning. Darla's question asked softly is hardly a whimper above the storm brewing beyond the French doors that rattle a warning of the worst yet to come. In the basement beneath the master bedroom the furnace functions. Darla strains to listen around the machinery humming. The furnace cycles warmth from beneath her sanctuary in the master bedroom where Darla is held captive. Darla understands your position precarious. She fusses with the blue cord fresh from the cellophane wrapping though she knows not the color of her husband's current pe

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Licking and smacking her lips Celia announces it is shower time. "But babe you haven't come for yonks," exclaims Dave, "don't want you having to wait too long." "It's ok Dave, wait and see how we go." "Well all right but l want her pussy dripping and juicy." Celia leads the way to the communal bathroom, stepping aside so Dave can view the room. "Ah l see, wow," he remarks. "Lots of scope for play in here, nice." Before him is a large wet room, complete with jacuzzi, 3 showers not in cubicles, so anyone using them would be in plain sight to all. Close to the nozzles is a long narrow bench. In a glass fronted cabinet various sex toys are on show, in another cabinet are washing essentials, soap, shampoo etc. The walls and floor are mirrored with lighting arranged in such a way that all reflections can be clearly visible. "Jacuzzi or shower?" Celia stands by Dave, hands running up his inner thighs, lightly

It had been a week since they arrived at the campsite. Alex was hating it more and more with each hour. She had never camped before and when she signed up for a sleep research study, she had never dreamed it would require camping. She had never camped before in her life. The amount of work they wanted her to do each day to keep the camp running was the worst part. It was 7 AM when Alex woke up that morning. She begrudgingly got out of her sleeping bag and dressed before she left the tent. All the sounds of the birds kept her from sleeping in. She hated the bugs, but had only packed shorts, t-shirts, and tank tops because it was so hot. As she left her tent she looked for someone to collect the firewood for her that day. *Who's going to be the simp to do my work today?* Alex thought as she looked around the camp. She was hoping to see Kyle because he was like a little puppy to her, but then she caught Stan looking at her and quickly look away when she noticed. His reaction made hi

Some time had passed when Madams' Eleanor Brigham, Agatha Brown, and indeed Violet Preston, received an invitation to Madam Marie Roussell's residence, regarding the ceremonial sale of one of her house's well trained products. With her blonde hair up in a tight bun, Eleanor cut an imposing picture of feminine dominance as she strutted to the entrance of Madam Roussell's with the equally imposing Agatha, both sexually excited at the prospect of the pageant of a sale of an item of masculinity, its erotic cruelty, always such a thrill in this age of masculine oppression. They were greeted close to the entrance by an equally flushed and excited Violet, attending such an event- as a third party- for the first time. She had of course received 'C8', a male once known as Yates, as her own property some time before, but this sale of an item known as 'C9' to a woman unknown to their circle, promised to be a deliciously spiteful event. Madam Roussell had already s