‘Hello,’ sighed Amanda, feeling unglued. She was in need of a downer or an upper. Amanda needed something, something to make the sunlight less tyr...nnical. Amanda Quinn hated the morning, waking up was not her specialty, especially after she went out with Glory. They usually stayed up till dawn, one drink leading to two, two drinks leading to coke, coke leading to china, brown or white. ‘Good morning,’ smiled Glory, sipping a scotch, the sound on her television muted, Sophie B. Hawkins’ ‘Strange. She was tied to the iron bound rim of the specially constructed wooden wheel, essentially a wagon wheel, six feet nine in diameter, her hands and feet tied to a spoke each and her neck to a further spoke, carefully bound with thick blue cord, firm enough to hold her but not too tight to mark or hurt her.It was almost second nature now, I could do it on automatic pilot and so there I was entirely dressed in black leather with my semi hard tool hanging out tying my gorgeous house slave to the. More

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