So what if I am a married man, thought Mike Romano as he signed the hotel register as Mr. And Mrs. Smith of West Covina. It is not like I am crushing my wife’s love for me. All I have become for her is a meal ticket and a fun pass. But for now, all of that is irrelevant because all is well and I haven’t been caught. With this false mustache, glasses and gray wig not even Doris would know me. Then again Doris is too busy with her club work and taking care of her aging mother to notice that we aren’t having sex all that much anymore. On the other hand, Doris never seemed to need sex all that much to begin with. In fact, when and if we have sex, she always makes me think that she is doing it as a favor for me.
Mike pulled out two, one hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and passed them to the supervising night clerk of the Riverside Inn along with the registration card. “Nice to have you with us again, Mr. Smith. Do you want the same room on the sixth floor facing the courtyard?” asked the supervising night clerk as he surveyed the registration card.
“That will be just fine,” responded Mike.
“I love that room myself. You almost feel like royalty in it,” declared the desk clerk.
“It is a nice room as hotel rooms go,” suggested
Mike Romano.
“Will you be needing one or two room keys tonight,
Mr. Smith?” inquired the night desk clerk.
“I will take one now and you can give Mrs. Smith the other key when she arrives. Here is another hundred dollars to make sure that she gets a couple dozen nicely arranged roses.”
“The florist is closed, Mr. Smith. Besides, there is a bud vase with a single
rose in it that will be delivered to your room as part of the hotel’s
Valentine’s Day Sweetheart Special package.”
“That sounds wonderful to me, but like you just
said, today is Valentine’s Day and Mrs. Smith needs the other two dozen roses
that I have requested. So, here is
additional fifty dollars to get the florist to open up for a moment,” declared
Mike Romano.
“I think I just located the key to the florist shop,
sir,” said the supervising night clerk with a wink.
“Excellent,” declared Mike. “Now all you need to do for me at the moment
is to confirm my nine o’clock dinner reservations in the Oasis Club.”
“I have those dinner reservations confirmed for you
on the hotel computer, Mr. Smith,” announced the quick and courteous night
clerk. “As part of our Sweetheart Special you are entitled to a complimentary
bottle of champagne and a one pound heart shaped box of chocolates. Would you like your complimentary bottle of
champagne and heart shaped box of chocolates now or delivered to your room?”
“Can they be delivered to the room in the next half
hour?” asked Mike.
“No problem, Mr. Smith. Would you like to upgrade the size and weight of the heart shaped
box of chocolates?”
“No thank you,” said Mike Romano.
“Will you be needing any help getting your luggage
to your room?” asked the clerk.
“No, I can get my bags and camera gear to the room
without any help,” declared the well disguised Mike Romano.
“Will there be anything else?” probed the hotel’s
head night clerk.
“I think that I have everything taken care of and
under control,” stated Mike. “On second
thought, can you give me a call when Mrs. Smith is on her way up to the room?”
“That is a big can do, Mr. Smith,” said the night
clerk as Mike pressed another twenty-dollar bill into the clerk’s out stretched
palm.
“Thank you for all your assistance and cooperation,”
said Mike Romano.
“It is my pleasure to serve you, sir. Happy Valentine’s Day and have a pleasant
stay at the Riverside Inn,” announced the hotel and resort’s supervising night
clerk.
“I always do,” said Mike while picking up his two
large black bags, placing the camera bag’s strap and the shoulder bag’s strap
on each of his shoulders. Mike had done
this exercise many times before and he all but had it down to a science. Once he had everything balanced and
positioned in their appropriate places, he moved across the spacious hotel
lobby towards the elevators. Mike
Romano loved the way the Riverside Inn had created a Mission style/California
colonial motif without appearing old and musty.
Mike rationalized as he stepped into the elevator
with all of his gear hanging upon him that the night clerk probably thought
that he and “Mrs. Smith” just liked this hotel for fun, picture taking/mid-week
getaways. After all, Mike had been
meeting Jane Darcy here for about four months on a fairly regular basis and he
always carried the same configuration of gear and bags. In a way this night was almost an
anniversary of the first time they had played the Mr. And Mrs. Smith game at
the Riverside Hotel.
As is usually the case, Jane and Mike had innocently
crossed paths the year before on Valentine’s Day. To Mike their supposedly chance meeting had seemed like an
innocent and unpretentious beginning.
Doris had allegedly been out of town with her aging mother and George
Darcy (Jane’s husband and Mike’s business partner) was supposed to be away on
company business. Both Mike and Jane
were feeling lonely and all but ran into each other in a neighborhood gas
station. To pass away their feelings
loneliness during the traditional romance of Valentine’s Day, Mike and Jane
decided to have a quasi-romantic drink at the Riverside Hotel Inn and Resort
after Mike finished work.
That evening, Mike found out that he seemed to have
a lot more in common with his partner’s wife than he did with Doris. Jane was far closer in age to Mike than
Doris was. She seemed so interested in
topics that bored Doris to the point of tears.
She was easy to talk to and Jane seemed to understand his feelings where
Doris ignored them. Jane even
confessed that she had been attracted to Mike Romano from the very first time
that her husband and his business partner had introduced her to Mike. She stated that in her opinion, Mike was the
brain behind the business and the more sensitive of the two men. After hearing these comments, Mike began to
wonder if their meeting in the gas station that morning had been as
coincidental as he had first thought.
Had Jane planned this?
Mike never asked this question out loud. Instead he countered her compliments by
saying that he was envious of George in his choice of women. While he (Mike) had fallen for the gold
digging, young and flashy trophy type wife, George had the steady companionship
of a real, lovely and intelligent woman.
In fact even though Doris had her breasts surgically enlarged Mike still
secretly loved Jane’s large and buxom figure.
As the romantic, Valentine evening wore on in the beautiful setting of
the Riverside Inn, their casual and innocent, but romantic encounter for a
drink, became drinks. The drinks became
dinner and dinner led to dancing and some more drinks. Then as if by Cupid’s magic, Mike and Jane
wound up making passionate love to each other in the back of Jane’s sporty
station wagon.
For several months after that magical and romantic
Valentine evening, Mike Romano and Jane Darcy’s affair had been more of a hit
and miss series of stolen hours in the back booths of out of the way bars and
the back seats of rented cars at the drive-in movies than anything else. But for Mike, the whole affair was a lot of
fun and reminded him of the footloose days of his youth. On the other hand, trying to be totally
discreet was becoming tedious at best and totally frustrating at its worst.
After those first few months, Mike Romano actually
worked at not seeing Jane Darcy. He
began to feel like he was playing with fire when he did see her. The more they saw of each other, the greater
the chance that they would be caught.
Of course when Doris bugged out on him on Halloween, Jane was there with
her masks and a night of erotic pleasure.
Mike finally realized that if they were found together, he really needed
to consider what Doris and George would do.
Then Jane suggested that they establish a relatively
safe and regularly scheduled meeting site at the upscale and relatively quiet
hotel called the Riverside Inn and Resort.
This large and lovely hotel/resort was about thirty miles east of their
West Los Angeles homes. Jane further
suggested that based upon their totally enjoyable Halloween experience, that
they get some disguises to help cover and hide the tracks of their affair. It wasn’t until the third or fourth
regularly scheduled session at the Riverside Inn Hotel and Spa that Jane
suggested bring along some of his camera gear that he was always talking
about. To Mike, this only seemed natural
in that normally he took his camera gear, or some part of it everywhere that he
went. Photography was his hobby and he
was good at it.
Jane had noted that having a regularly scheduled
time and meeting place for their blossoming love affair eliminated the need for
countless clandestine phone calls to plan secluded meetings in creative
locations for a series of borrowed moments and stolen seconds. But tonight was to be really different for
Mike. First off, it was Valentine’s
Day. Secondly, Mike had made up his
mind that if Jane had asked her husband for a divorce sometime during the past
two weeks as she had told Mike she would do during their previous Riverside Inn
rendezvous, then Mike was prepared to leave Doris and marry Jane.
******************************
“Good, evening.
I believe that you have a key for me?” said a tall buxom blonde who was
smartly dressed in a black pinstriped pantsuit. A very large and soft black leather purse hung on a long strap
from her left shoulder and what appeared to be a long black leather trench coat
was draped over her right fore arm. The
blonde’s make-up was impeccably flawless and almost doll like in appearance,
but Mrs. Smith always had that quality to her look. Her soft and form-fitting black leather gloves gave her hands the
same finished and almost too perfect look that her face had.
“Good evening, Mrs. Smith. Here is your key to room six twenty-five. These roses are also for you,” said the head
night clerk as he passed the room key to Mrs. Smith.
“Mr. Smith can be so considerate and romantic. Those roses are just lovely. I will pick them up on my way out as I am
unable to stay very long tonight,” declared the tall voluptuous blonde while
thinking that Mike never bought her roses anymore.
“They will be right here on the counter for you when
you leave, Mrs. Smith,” said the night clerk.
Doris wondered what the night clerk might be thinking about Mrs. Smith’s
relatively short stay. From the gossip
that Doris had heard at the hair salon combined with the bits and pieces that
Doris had pried out of Jane’s husband, when Jane wore this tall, buxom blonde
disguise, she usually stayed the entire night at the Riverside Inn Hotel and
Resort. Because Jane and Mike generally
arrived in separate vehicles, she was able to leave long after Mike had gone to
work during the early morning hours of the following day.
In addition, Doris felt some reluctant admiration
for Jane’s commitment to the Mrs. Smith disguise. The rib crushing nature of the waist winnowing corset and the
strain of walking in boots that added almost eight inches to her stature along
with the weight of the large breast-forms and the heat of the butt pads, mask,
gloves and wig made the disguise as uncomfortable as it was exotic.
“Mr. Smith checked in about thirty-minutes ago,” said
the head night clerk. “Will you still
be needing those dinner reservations in the Oasis Club?”
“That all depends on Mr. Smith,” mysteriously stated
Doris from behind her flawless and absolutely sexy disguise. She had heard from George Darcy that Jane
and Mike had always used room service to keep their profile at the Riverside
Inn as low as possible. This business
of eating dinner in public was something new and different. Maybe their affair was about to become a lot
more than a casual sexual dalliance.
When George’s latest and most noteworthy conversation with Doris had
been prompted by Jane’s declaration of intent to file for divorce, Doris
assumed that she was next on the divorce hit list and she wasn’t interested in
becoming a divorcee. However, being a
widow and heir to Mike Romano’s business empire and heavy weight wealth was a
far different story because her mother had told her that widows inherit while
divorcees get screwed.
“Will you be needing help with your bags?” probed
the night clerk while he was re-confirming the dinner reservations.
“I didn’t bring my large bag this time,” replied the
marvelously disguised Mrs. Smith as she repositioned her heavy and large black
leather shoulder bag as well as her black leather coat. “Can you tell me the exact time?” Doris wanted the night clerk to remember the
exact time of her arrival at the Riverside Inn and Hotel Resort and her
departure for room 625.
“The computer says that it is six: fifty eight, Mrs.
Smith.”
“Then I better get cracking. I didn’t know that it was almost seven
o’clock. Mr. Smith wouldn’t want me to
be late for this special evening.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” said the head night
clerk. Mrs. Smith didn’t acknowledge
the clerk’s salutation. She was
recalling how she had arrived at this point in her relatively short life where
she was planning to frame Jane Darcy for Mike’s demise. Doris could feel the heat from the night
clerk’s stare upon her well-padded and extremely curvaceous rear end as the
heels of her exotically tall boots clicked their way across the hotel lobby’s
warm-brown mission tile floor that lay between the front desk and the
elevator. The uneven nature of this
floor made walking in her sky-high boots even more difficult.
She chuckled when her inner thought labeled the walk
to her elevator as a “hobbling” experience.
The extremely tall boots with the heavy four-inch platforms forced her
to take very small and precise steps.
Doris found her inner thought focused on the placement of each of her
steps. She was positive that Mrs.
Smith’s rhythmic butt-pumping and somehow stately prancing movements would
indelibly burn her arrival at the Riverside Inn Hotel and Spa along with her
exit to the elevator into the night clerk’s memory.
If all was in place, George Darcy should have
detained Jane in West Covina on the pretext of working out the financial
settlement to their impending divorce.
If George was following along with their plan, he was also seeing to it
that Jane Darcy would be without an alibi for the entire time needed for Doris
to complete her task and set-up the frame of Jane.
Doris had made sure that George was an integral part
of setting up the plan to take Mike out and frame his wife Jane for the
act. George was the one that got Doris
Jane’s clothes and the Mrs. Smith disguise from Jane’s closet. He also gave Doris the keys to Jane’s car
so that Doris could “steal” the vehicle and drive in it to the Riverside
Inn. In addition, if necessary, George
was going to be Doris’ alibi and she was going to be his. In the case where George might get cold feet
and drop his end of the activity, Doris was also considering a back up plan
that would make it appear that Jane eliminated George as well.
After all was said and done, none of these plans
would have been necessary if George Darcy had kept a tighter leash upon Jane in
the first place. Mike was not savvy
enough about worldly activities to have come up with this type of masking
affair on his own. Kink was just not
his thing and Doris had tried her darndest to assist him in that direction
without any success. Her philandering
husband probably didn’t even know that Jane was on her period for their
currently scheduled Valentine’s Day rendezvous at the Riverside Inn Hotel and
Resort.
With those thoughts in her mind, Doris wondered what
Jane Darcy saw in Mike that she didn’t see.
Jane was about the same age as Mike and Doris was much younger than both
of them. Doris had even frosted her
hair, switched from contacts to oversize pink tinted glasses and worn
conservative business suits with thick-heeled pumps in an attempt to make her
appear older. While Mike was well over
six feet tall, Jane had to be close to five-eleven in her stocking feet. In the heels that Doris was currently
wearing as part of her Mrs. Smith get up, Jane was probably six foot seven or
eight. She must have towered over Mike
unless he wore elevator boots too.
In addition, Mike wasn’t all that good in bed and
didn’t seem to need sex on a regular basis.
In fact, Doris felt like Mike was doing sex as a favor for her if and
when they did it. Come to think of it, she had often used Mike to swab her out
at the end of her period and he never seemed to mind that either. Maybe Jane was doing that too. After all, Jane didn’t need Mike for a meal
ticket because she already had George.
One thing was for sure; Jane wasn’t with Mike for companionship because
in Doris’ opinion, when it came to companionship and general conversation, Mike
was a total boar.
Doris checked out her Mrs. Smith disguise in the
reflection of the mirrored walls of the hotel’s large and elegant
elevator. The incredible look totally
covered her true identity and was worth any discomfort that she was currently
experiencing. During several of her
most recent shopping trips to her local mall she wore the boots and
corset. In fact she had even worn the
corset and breast forms to bed under her nightgown because once she got her
ribs to bend inward and contract, they hurt when they were allowed to
expand. Mike, the dummy that he was,
hadn’t even noticed that Doris had really changed her figure. Then again, he really hadn’t noticed when
she had surgically embellished he breasts and buttocks.
When Doris was at home alone, she had done all of
her computer surfing while wearing her mask and latex and/or leather
gloves. The long and frequent practice
sessions with her full-head latex mask, wig, waist-winnowing corset, heavy
breast forms, sky-high platform boots and long leather gloves were paying off
in spades. Even though there was a lot
of discomfort when she had learned to use them, by now she could use these
parts of her disguise as if by second nature.
In her role of Mrs. Smith, Doris laid her black
leather trench coat on the handrail and took the heavy 45 automatic out of her
shoulder bag and carefully removed it form its plastic bag. George had seen to it that Jane’s
fingerprints were all over the clean gun by having her practice with it at the
West Valley Target Range earlier that morning.
He had told Jane that since she was going to be a single woman that she
needed to learn how to defend herself.
Doris couldn’t believe that Jane had fallen for that totally lame ruse.
After retrieving the silencer from her bag, Mrs. Smith used her glove-covered
hands to screw it into the muzzle of the heavy and lethal weapon like a totally
professional hit woman.
Mrs. Smith’s wonderfully masked sponsor planned to
empty the entire clip into Mike. In her
opinion, he was full of manure most of the time. Now he would be full of lead.
Doris wanted to make sure that the crime appeared to be one of heated
and premeditated passion. She then
placed the weapon in her right hand and draped the leather coat over it. This way she could push open the hotel room
door with her leather coat shrouded/gun toting right arm after unlocking the
door with her glove-covered left hand.
She figured that the quicker the deed was done the better. Doris didn’t want to give Mike any hint that
she wasn’t Jane Darcy in the Mrs. Smith disguise and the longer they were
together, the greater the possibility that something like that might
happen.
*************************
Mike Romano used the call from the supervising night clerk to make sure that all was in order in room 625 of the Riverside Inn and Hotel Resort. The Champagne, chocolates, and the bud vase with its single red rose had arrived. Mike hope that he had arranged them romantically along with an ice bucket, glasses, some snacks and candles on the suite’s coffee table. He already had their drinks properly chilled and ready to be served. His camera was on and loaded. He even had the tripod all set up and ready for timed shots. He had brushed his teeth, gargled with mouthwash, shaved and put on the lemony smelling after-shave lotion that Jane had bought for him. Mike had even lit all of the extra incense candles that he had brought with him in his suitcase and distributed them around the suite. He began to feel like a mother hen that was preparing a nest for her chicks.
He actually kept a special suitcase with all of the things that he used at the Riverside Inn locked in his office closet. He also had his camera bag located there. He loved taking photos of Jane in her various disguises. The albums in his office closet testified to his photographic ability and to Jane’s creativity. The soft and warm candlelight really added to the cozy romance of the hotel suite. Jane loved the cinnamon and bayberry scents of the Christmas season and the suite’s atmosphere was saturated with those aromas.
Mike had carefully and lovingly laid out Jane and his sex toys in the suite’s bedroom for this evening’s pre-dinner recreational activities in much the same manner as he had set-up the drinks, Champagne, snacks and ice bucket in the sitting room of the large and luxurious hotel suite. The lights of the metropolitan area twinkled in the distance from the vantagepoint of the room’s sixth floor view. And, even though it was Southern California, there was a nip in the air that room’s gas fireplace abated.
The supervising clerk had informed Mike Romano that
Mrs. Smith was not planning to stay the night and didn’t have any luggage with
her unless you called her oversize shoulder bag luggage. Even so, Mike confirmed the dinner
reservations once again with the night clerk.
The shoulder bag was something new and Mike was curious as to why Jane
had switched from her normal luggage to the shoulder bag. He also wasn’t sure why Jane was going to
try and shorten their Valentine’s Day rendezvous, but Mike was sure that she
would change her mind once he asked her to marry him during their pre-dinner
recreational activities.
In addition, Mike Romano was hoping that he could
convince Jane to stay in her Mrs. Smith disguise when they went out to dinner at
the Oasis Club. He had planned to wear his.
Jane was one of those rare women that actually enjoyed the experience of
playing with her identity. She had even
gathered a small collection of real looking phony identification documents to
support her various fantasy identities.
Her creative desire to play fantasy games had found fertile ground
within Mike’s vivid as well as inventive imagination and he could not wait to
see what she would do next.
This need for discretion was especially true if Jane
hadn’t talked to George about their divorce yet. It just wouldn’t do for Doris to get wind of what he and Jane
were up to until he had the proper chance to talk with Doris about his proposed
change in their marital status. As the final act of his preparations for Mrs.
Smith arrival, Mr. Smith put on his smoking jacket, put his camera on the
fireplace mantel, stuffed and lit his crook necked pipe, took his place by the
mantel of the suite’s fireplace, and waited for what just knew would be Mrs.
Smith’s creative and spectacular masked entrance.
***********************
It was all Mrs. Smith could do to restrain her
laughter when she entered the candle lit room and saw Mr. Smith posed by the
fireplace mantle. The sappy arrangement
on the coffee table, the well-lit gas fireplace and the smell of room 625 was
so Mike and why Doris felt that he had turned into a sloppy and corny
sentimental bore. Upon seeing his
totally corn ball image beside the fireplace in room 625, any remote thought
that Doris may have had of playing sex games with Mike in her tall buxom and
blonde Mrs. Smith disguise completely evaporated.
The wonderfully tall, buxom and blonde image of Mrs.
Smith slowly and deliberately closed the suite’s entry door behind her, pivoted
on her extremely tall red platform boots and almost immediately she pointed her
leather shrouded forearm and gun toting right hand directly at Mr. Smith. Mike picked-up the camera from the mantle,
turned away from the gas-powered fireplace to face her and smiled ever so happily
at what he saw. His long anticipated
Valentine dream girl was exotically beautiful.
He raised the camera up to his well-disguised face and snapped several
shots as she moved in from the doorway.
He didn’t even see it coming as she pointed her leather
shrouded arm towards him emptied most of the clip into the area of his body
covered by his smoking jacket. Mr.
Smith fell like a bag of heavy wet and rotting garbage upon the suite’s hearth
and broke his pipe when his head bounced upon the rug-covered floor. The automatic shutter of Mike’s camera
clicked off a series of shots and actually managed to record the muzzle flash
of the automatic’s silencer before the camera also crashed to the ground.
To make sure that Mr. Smith never made love to anyone
ever again, Mrs. Smith coolly walked over to where he had fallen, deliberately
turned his blood spattered body over with the shiny toe of her right sky-high
boot and silently pumped two more rounds right between his lifeless eyes. The fallen camera managed to shoot that as
well before it finally ran out of memory.
Just as coolly, Mrs. Smith kicked the flashing
camera out of Mike’s lifeless hand, stepped back to the coffee table and
reached down to the chilled and open bottle of Champagne and poured out a tall
glass of the sparkling fluid. Mike had
even been thoughtful enough to provide her with straws. The cold bubbling substance felt great as it
trickled down her parched throat.
Sweating inside of her multi-layered disguise had dehydrated her more than
she had realized.
Before she took a second great tug on her straws,
Mrs. Smith ate several of the snacks that Mike had so lovingly prepared from
the platter of the suite’s coffee table.
“There is no need to waste good Champagne and food just because your
bleeding corpse lies dead on the floor, Mike,” sniped the gorgeous Mrs. Smith
as she casually gave Mike’s corpse another nudge with the toe of her boot. Getting Mike’s blood on Jane’s large red
boots was an added touch.
She picked-up Mike’s digital camera and reviewed the
shots that were on its memory card.
“Too bad you can’t see these photos, Mike, the police will love
them. I think these photos are some of
your best work.” Doris turned off the
camera and put it back on the rug with her gloved hand. How careless of Jane not to notice that Mike
had managed to snap a couple of pictures of Jane shooting at him.
Having temporarily satisfied her curiosity, thirst
and hunger, Mrs. Smith placed the straws in the inside breast pocket of her
suit jacket and went into the suite’s spacious bathroom. Once she was situated in the bathroom, Mrs.
Smith pulled a thin plastic garment bag out of her large black shoulder bag and
laid it upon the floor. When she took
off her tall boots she stepped onto the garment bag, she didn’t want to leave
any perspiration, hair or flakes of skin in the bath mat that some overzealous
forensics expert could find and use to prove that she was in the room. She was already too late to prevent the
bloody boot tracks that adorned her path into the bathroom, but along with the
photos on the camera’s memory card, the bloody boot prints were an intentional
part of her plan to make Jane appear to be a wanton and careless
murderous.
The precaution of the plastic bag on the bathroom
mat was actually redundant because Doris had gone to the trouble of wearing the
same type of plastic material under the double wool socks that she had worn
when she pulled on Jane’s size eleven platform boots. While the plastic bags and the thick wool socks had allowed her
feet to completely fill up Jane’s very tall, large and wide platform boots,
they were part of the package that made those boots chambers of horror for her
Doris’ narrow size eight feet.
With her plastic and double wool sock covered feet
firmly and comfortably planted upon the garment bag plastic, she took a pair of
flat-heeled suede boots, an auburn pageboy wig, a pair of black horn-rimmed
glasses, knee-length skirt, one of Jane’s used tampons, a comb full of Jane’s
hair and a pair of fur-lined men’s gloves out of her oversize shoulder
purse. Each of these items was packed
in a Ziploc plastic bag and George had supplied Doris with the comb full of
Jane’s hair and the frozen tampon. Then
she unscrewed the silencer form the forty-five automatic, put them back into
their respective Ziploc plastic bags and placed them back into her oversized
leather purse.
Next the well-masked Mrs. Smith took off the extra
long boot cut pants that had so perfectly covered the extreme heel length of
Jane’s size eleven sky-high platform boots that Doris had just removed from her
feet. In place of her extra long pants
she pulled on a tight knee-length skirt.
The skirt barely fit over the butt pads, but with her shortened legs the
tight skirt appeared to add twenty pounds to her newly altered physical
stature.
To continue with her transformation process, Mrs.
Smith took her long and flowing blonde wig off the crown of her mask and
exchanged it for a short and frizzy auburn one. She stepped into her flat-heeled, fur-lined suede boots and
wrapped the sky-high boots into their respective plastic bags and stuffed them
into the large shoulder bag. She
inserted the long blonde wig into the plastic bag from which she had just
removed from the short pageboy auburn wig.
After securing the short auburn pageboy to the crown of her mask she
stuffed the bagged blonde wig into her shoulder bag.
She went into the bedroom closet to find Mike’s
black leather bomber jacket. She knew
that it would be there. He took that
rumpled and fiber filled black leather jacket everywhere. That was one of the reasons that she wanted
to remove it from the hotel room. She
intended to plant it in Jane’s bedroom closet.
The other reason was that Doris hated the way that this jacket looked on
her, but Mike had like it when she wore it on walks with him. She put on and zipped up the black leather
bomber jacket. Like the skirt over the
butt pads, the lined bomber jacket appeared to add another thirty to forty
pounds to her overall look.
The mask wearing Mrs. Smith went back into the
bathroom and picked up the plastic garment bag from the bathroom’s floor mat
and stuffed it into her shoulder bag.
She put on the black horn rimmed glasses and anchored them to the ears
of the mask. Finally she put on the
long triple X black leather trench coat that she had purchased for this
occasion from a local thrift shop. She
loved the musty odor of this well-worn leather coat and was pleased by the way
that it had hid her lethal handgun.
After buttoning the great old leather coat, she examined her new look in
the suite’s bathroom mirrors. Doris was
amazed by and extremely happy with her new look. The reflection from the
bathroom mirrors told Mrs. Smith that she had gone from a buxom, super tall and
sexy blonde to a short, fat and frumpy female nerd.
The new frumpy and totally leather-covered Mrs.
Smith surveyed the entire bathroom to make sure that she had removed any and
all evidence of her transformation. She
picked up a couple of medium size face towels and hoisted the heavy black
shoulder bag across her fat looking leather-covered torso. She had the purse strap fully extended and
the manner in which the long shoulder strap was cutting across her leather-covered
torso, added to the fat and frumpy look she was trying to achieve.
Next the newly altered Mrs. Smith checked out Mike’s
cooling corpse. He was as dead as the
miniscule love that she used to have for him.
Even in the dim candle and firelight of room 625 and with the vision
restricting pupil holes of her wonderful identity-altering mask, Mrs. Smith
could see that the hotel maintenance people would have to replace the carpet
near the hearth.
The number of holes in Mike’s corpse had allowed
most of Mike’s former life giving fluids to run all over and deep into the
carpet. She took the face towels from
the suite’s bathroom and soaked them in the pools of coagulating blood before
stuffing them into the large plastic garment bag that she had used to cover the
bathmat. Like the rest of the
incriminating items in her black shoulder bag, the plastic-covered,
blood-soaked towels were stuffed into what had become a very full and heavy
piece of luggage. In the process of
soaking up some of Mike’s blood with the face towels, Mrs. Smith had made sure
that Jane’s leather gloves were covered with his ebbing and oozing body
fluids.
Lastly, the short and fat Mrs. Smith removed Jane’s
black leather gloves revealing that a pair of latex ones was underneath
them. While these skin-tight latex gloves
had also contributed to the discomfort of her Mrs. Smith disguise, they had
prevented any powder burns or residues as well as the coagulating blood from
getting on Doris’ hands. They also
blocked the perspiration emanating from her hands, from soaking into the
leather of Jane’s gloves. In place of
the blood-soaked, powder-burned gloves, Mrs. Smith pulled on a pair of
fur-lined men’s gloves over the latex ones.
These gloves also had belonged to Mike.
The fur-lined male dress gloves did for her hands what the flat boots
did for her feet and what the butt pads and Mike’s bomber Jacket did for her
torso.
Inside of her altered Mrs. Smith disguise, Doris
pondered why she didn’t feel any remorse or a sense of guilt over what she had
just accomplished. Maybe what she had
managed to do would set in later, but right now, she felt a true sense of
victory. In fact, as she pored out and
sucked down a large bottle of cold water, reviewed the photos again, and then
ate the rest of Mike’s lovingly prepared snacks from the coffee table, she
realized that she was getting a tremendous sexual rush out of her
accomplishment. That thought passed
from her well masked head in about thirty seconds and then she focused on
implementing the new and nerdy Mrs. Smith’s escape.
She looked for the clock on the nightstand and
realized that she was actually ahead of schedule so that she didn’t have to
rush. Hurrying always made for
mistakes. She had seen enough detective
and crime programs to know that. So she
checked out the hotel suite’s bathroom and the murder scene once again. The place was clean, meaning that there
wasn’t any trace of Mrs. Smith’s presence.
All that remained that might give a clue as to whom had murdered Mike
was the new comb full of Jane’s hair that Doris purposefully left in the
bathroom wastebasket along with the now defrosted tampon that George had
supplied. The comb also had fibers from
the auburn and blonde wigs. The tampon and comb should tie the allegedly
cranky, slutty and careless Jane Darcy directly to the murder scene.
The dowdy and nerdy leather clad Mrs. Smith took the
gun with Jane’s fingerprints all over it and thought about tossing it into the
hotel’s laundry shoot. If the gun
turned up, it would definitely tie Jane to the murder scene. But, what if someone in the laundry room
pocketed the gun or it remained undiscovered for several days or even
weeks? With those possibilities in her
mind, Mrs. Smith re-bagged the gun and put it in the pocket of her leather
coat.
Instead leaving the weapon lying around, and to
reinforce the look of carelessness on Jane’s part, Mrs. Smith took the pair of
Jane’s blood covered black and powder burned leather gloves and purposefully
left them on the floor just inside the suite’s entry door. She wanted to make it appear that Jane had
dropped the gloves when she had made her hasty exit. As much as she would have liked a copy of the photos that were
currently in Mike’s camera, she kicked it under the couch for the crime scene
investigators to find.
A quite unremarkable and almost dumpy Mrs. Smith
left room 625 with its totally unromantic and grizzly murder scene. Once she was in the long and empty hallway,
she made sure that the room’s entry door was totally closed and secure. Then she went along the long and cheerless
hallway to the elevator and down to the lobby without incident or seeing
another human being. Only the hotel’s
many surveillance cameras recorded some of her movements, and of course what
they saw, would not lead to the identification of Mike’s real murderer.
The hotel’s supervising night clerk was busy with
several newly arriving sets of hotel guests and Doris could see through the
small pupil holes of her life-like mask that the tall, buxom and blonde Mrs.
Smith’s lovely roses were still adorning the upscale hotel’s marble front
desk. After shoving a rubber that was
full of Mike’s frozen cum under the front seat of Jane’s car, Mrs. Smith drove
it back to Jane’s residence to complete the frame up. Twenty minutes later, the now chubby and nerdy Mrs. Smith pulled
into the Darcy’s spacious four-car garage after opening it with the garage door
opener that was in Jane’s vehicle.
Once Mrs. Smith was inside of the garage she closed
the exterior garage door with the remote, took off the male fur-lined leather
gloves and put on a black pair of chemically resistant rubber gloves that
George had left for her on the workbench.
After pulling on these heavy black rubber gloves, the frumpy looking
Mrs. Smith methodically set about gathering together all of the incriminating
items that reinforced Jane’s frame-up.
When she had all of the incriminating items assembled neatly on the back
seat of Jane’s vehicle, the frumpy looking Mrs. Smith put them into the
overnight case that George had also supplied.
To continue with the sloppy crime of passion theme that she had started
in room 625 of the Riverside Inn and Hotel Resort, Mrs. Smith made sure that
some of Mike’s blood was smeared on the back seat of Jane’s sporty station
wagon and the overnight case.
Mrs. Smith used Jane’s house key to enter the house
via the interior garage door and turned off the alarm. (George Darcy had seen to it that Doris had
the alarm code). She pulled the auburn
pageboy wig off of her mask and got a short salt and pepper wig from Jane’s
closet. After positioning the new wig
on her mask, she took off her leather coat and Mike’s leather bomber jacket,
used the blood soaked face towels to drip Mike’s blood on the jacket and then
hung the jacket in plain sight with Jane’s jackets and blazers.
Having created yet another blood smeared trail that
lead right to Jane, Doris placed the blood soaked face towels in the overnight
case. She then buried the overnight
case with its “souvenir” Riverside Inn ashtray, half of Mike’s broken crookneck
pipe, the murder weapon, the gun’s silencer, the auburn wig, and the two blood
soaked towels from the Riverside hotel in the deep recesses of Jane’s closet.
Doris had also planned to bury the shoulder bag with
some of the Mrs. Smith disguise, including the sky-high boots, in another part
of the master bedroom closet, but she changed her mind and decided to take them
back out to Jane’s car for the moment.
There was always the chance that the tall buxom and very blonde Mrs.
Smith might need to extend this evening’s performance.
While looking in Jane’s closet for a jacket to wear
under her long leather coat, she spotted a full length red sequined dress and
garment bag that might be useful as well if the tall, buxom blonde had to make
another dramatic and murderous appearance.
With that same the dowdy and gray haired Mrs. Smith “borrowed” one of
Jane’s extra large full-length mahogany mink coats. The heavy coat was truly a work of art and Doris enjoyed layering
it over her leather-covered and heavily altered figure. Then she exchanged the black rubber gloves
for the fur-lined leather ones, locked up the house, and drove back to the
Riverside Inn.
***********************
If George had stayed on plan, by now, he should have
taken Jane over to the Riverside Inn.
Mrs. Smith was relieved to see that George had been good to his word
when she arrived at the entrance to the hotel’s parking lot. As planned, George was waiting in his rented
vehicle for Mrs. Smith when she returned Jane’s sporty station wagon to the
Riverside Inn’s parking area. The
police still hadn’t arrived so Jane either hadn’t gone up to the hotel room on
the sixth floor or was in the room and was still trying to figure out what she
should do. The longer Jane took to report
her discovery of Mike’s bloody corps, the stronger the frame would become. “Are the long stem red roses still on the
front desk?” asked the gray-haired, fur covered Mrs. Smith after she got into
George Darcy’s large warm rented car.
“Is that you, Doris?” asked George Darcy.
“No it is your Aunt Sadie, George.”
“That is one incredible disguise, Doris.”
“That is Sadie Smith to you, George.”
“Right, but I just can’t get over how totally
different you look, Sadie,” said George.
“For some unknown odd ball reason this is really turning me on!”
“We have plenty of time for that later, George. What I need to know now is; did you see a
big vase of roses on the hotel’s front desk when you dropped Jane off.”
“I think that I saw her carry some roses over to the
elevator, but I am not sure,” responded George.
“Did you get her to wear her black leather trench
coat?”
“Yes I did.
Just before she went into the hotel, she pulled on a full head female
rubber mask, a pair of dark glasses and the blonde wig that you told me to have
laying in the back seat. How did you
know that she was going to do that?”
“We all have our patterns and Jane is just running
true to form, George. She is still
trying to protect Mike’s reputation.
Let’s leave this scene before the law gets here. Sadie Smith is hungry again and getting
hornier by the second.”
“We are checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Jones at the
Buford Hotel and I have also made dinner reservations at the Olive Garden. As we had planned, I checked in earlier in
the evening before I picked-up Jane,” declared George Darcy like he was
stalling to see what was happening at the Riverside Inn. “Are you going to remain Sadie Smith during
dinner?”
“Would you like that, George? I could be your Mrs. Sadie Jones.”
“I don’t know why I am saying this, Sadie, but I
think I would like that very much,” replied George.
“Then let’s get over to the Buford and its
restaurant so you can take care of your Aunt Sadie’s needs,” suggested Mrs.
Smith. “I can’t stay in this mask and
get up too much longer unless there is a really good reason for doing it.”
“I’ll bet that your Mrs. Smith disguise would look
spectacular with the full-length, long sleeve, high neck red sequined dress
that I had purchased for Jane to wear this Valentine’s Day.”
“Why didn’t you give her that dress, George? I saw it in her well-stocked closet and I
know that Mike would have loved seeing Jane in it.”
“The fact that Mike might have gotten some pleasure
out of seeing Jane in that dress is probably why I didn’t give it to her,” lied
George. “Instead of giving her what she
probably deserves, I through the philandering bitch over board and told her
that if she ever darkened my doorstep again, that I would blow her head clean
off with my forty-five automatic.”
Inside of her disguise, Doris wondered if George
really had the courage to do what he had just threatened to do. She decided that he would never be able to
pull that off or he would have blown Mike away instead of suggesting that she
do it. Thus, instead of commenting on
George’s last remark the dowdy, extremely chubby and nerdy looking Mrs. Smith
said, “The very tall, blonde and buxom
Mrs. Smith/Jones would look better in that dress than my current disguise.”
“I would sure like to see that, Sadie. Do you have a pattern like Jane does?”
probed George.
“You had better hope that I don’t George,” said
Doris while laughing inside of her Sadie Smith disguise.
“What does that, mean, Doris?” asked George.
“I told you not to call me Doris while I am in this
get up, George,” said Doris through her disguise while ducking George’s
question. “On second thought, take me
back to your house, George. I think
that I left something there that I am going to need tonight. Maybe I could even put on that red dress for
you.”
“That would be supper,” announced George as he
started their rented car.
“Wait a minute, George. Isn’t that Jane running out to her station wagon?” asked “Sadie”
as she peered across the hotel’s parking lot through the pupil holes of her
mask.
“I think it is,” confirmed George. “She is still wearing her big black leather
trench coat and has a big vase with a lot of roses, and I think that she still
has that mask and wig on, but it is hard to tell from here. The female masks in Jane’s mask collection
are so real, I think that they are staring at me from her closet when the door
is open. I guess she put on a pair of
black leather gloves as well, because I don’t remember her having them on when
she went into the hotel.”
From behind her disguise, Doris was hoping that the
gloves that Jane had stupidly put on were the blood soaked ones that she had
purposefully left by the door of the hotel room. She also hoped that she looked as good and real as the tall,
buxom, and blonde Mrs. Smith as Jane did.
“Then at least her true identity is still unknown to the hotel staff,”
stated the fur-covered and newly named Mrs. Sadie Smith/Jones. “I guess that Jane figured that Mike had
brought her station wagon over to the hotel because of one of his totally corny
and sentimental whims.”
“Jane told me that the first time that they did it
was in the back of her wagon and she gave him keys to her car,” added
George.
“That would have done it for Mike. Either she has another set of keys or she
got them out of Mike’s blood soaked pockets,” declared the frumpy, fur-clad
Mrs. Smith.
“Is that good for us?” asked George. “Maybe we should call the police or
something and tell them that a murderer is getting away.”
“The fact that no one knows Jane’s true identity for
the moment will give us more time to incriminate her and tighten the frame,
George.” Was George really this stupid
or was he making logical mistakes in the pressure of the moment? Doris was really wondering if having George,
as her alibi, was such a good idea after all.
How could he report a murder that they weren’t supposed to know
about? He would probably confess
everything under any kind of intense questioning.
“Why would we want to do that, Jane-a- Sadie?”
probed George.
“Jane-a-Sadie” didn’t answer his question. Was George becoming one of those details
that were going to require a command performance from the tall, buxom and very
blonde Mrs. Smith? Maybe the tall and
blonde Mrs. Smith or Jones would have to eliminate George too thought Doris as
George drove onto the freeway that would get them to back his house. At the speed they were traveling that would
take about fifteen minutes or even less.
“Slow down George.
What is your hurry? The last
thing we need right now is to be pulled over by the police for speeding,”
suggested Mrs. Sadie Smith/Jones.
“What if Jane gets stopped and she tells them that
we-you killed your husband?”
“Now what would make her come to that conclusion,
George?”
“I don’t know.
I wish that this business was all over with and we could get married
like you promised.”
“I hear that George. Things will get better before the night is over. Just take my word for it,” asserted Doris
through her marvelous disguise.
“I guess that you are right,” responded George Darcy.
“This is not a time for guessing, George. You know that I am right and you had better
remember that at all times,” commanded Mrs. Smith with a definitely threatening
voice.
“I promise to do the best that I can Jane, Doris, I
mean Sadie. Oh damn!” declared George.
“Focus George!
Our undoing is in the details!” snapped the frumpy fur-covered Mrs.
Smith. “Now is not the time to get
footloose and screwy on me. A little slip like that one at the wrong time could
totally upset the whole apple cart.”
“Don’t worry I will get things under control. I just need a little sex with Mrs. Sadie
Jones to get my head straight.”
“That is not the head that you need to keep
straight, George,” responded Sadie Jones.
“Very funny, Doris, I mean Jane, uh Sadie. Besides, everyday when I am on the road
doing Mike’s and my business I handle things that are a lot more stressful than
this.”
Those types of fluster and stutter definitely
spelled disaster. George had just
slipped up with the name again and Mike was dead. Dead men don’t make good partners. George was just too honest to keep their secret and Doris had
absolutely no intention of becoming George’s wife. That would be like stepping out of Mike’s frying pan and into
George’s fire. All of a sudden Doris
found herself thinking that she could blow George away with the revolver that
George said he always kept in the glove compartment of his rental cars that he
always used when he was out on the road.
He was always telling her and bragging how trusty that his old road gun
was. She just had to look for an
opportunity to search for the revolver. In that case scenario, Doris could use
her mother instead of George as her alibi.
In fact, now that she was thinking about the various
scenarios that were currently open to her, Doris believed that her aged mother
would make a far better alibi than George ever could. On the other hand, maybe Mrs. Smith could put on that red
sequined dress and play a few sex games with George first before Mrs. Sadie
Jones wrapped her body in garment bags and used his trusty revolver to send him
to the land of beyond the beyond. After
all, George was pretty good in bed when he took his Levitra pills and Mrs.
Smith/Jones had not had any really heavy sex, let alone really great kinky sex
for almost a year.
“You have gotten really quiet, Sadie,” commented
George as they pulled into the wide driveway of his and Jane’s house. “What is going on inside of that wonderful
disguised of yours?”
“I was thinking that maybe you should take a really
tall, buxom and blonde Mrs. Jones dancing in that red sequined dress that you
bought for Jane, but let’s have some sex and eat a snack here first.” Darn, that idea turned Doris on more than
planning to blow Mike away. And, since
Jane was headed in the opposite direction without an alibi and no one to
support her innocence, Jane would still be in line to take the fall George’s
demise as well.
“We still have those dinner reservations at the
Olive Garden,” offered George Darcy as he got out of his rental car and checked
out his garage. Doris took this
opportunity to open and search the vehicle’s glove compartment for George’s
trusty old revolver. There it was; big
as life. With almost cat like reflexes,
the fur-covered and frumpy Mrs. Smith took the revolver and slipped into the
right side pocket of Jane’s extra large mahogany mink coat.
“Are you saying that you would pass up some really
great and kinky sex with your ultimate fantasy, sequin covered Valentine doll
for dinner at the Olive Garden, Georgie Baby?” asked the frumpy, gray haired
and fat Mrs. Smith while picking up a roll of two inch wide black duct tape and
a pair of black chemically resistant rubber gloves. In fact, these were the same pair of rubber gloves that she had
used to hide the incriminating evidence that made up a good part of Jane’s
frame. “We could even video tape our
games if you want to.”
George had made the videotape request at an earlier
date and he had a collection of videotapes and photos that he had secretly made
of Jane while she was wearing her various masks. He was almost as goofy about cameras as Mike had been. What is it with men and their desire to take
pictures of masked and rubberized women?
“Now that you put it that way, Mrs. Smith, just go
inside and get started while I lock up the garage doors,” declared George with
a hungry and lean look in his eye. “I
will get all of my best video equipment too.
This is going to be a total blast!
Sadie, you are the best cupid ever.”
“Do you want to eat now or after sex?” asked the
nerdy looking Mrs. Sadie Smith like she didn’t know the answer to her question.
“I will get us some snacks and wine while you change
into that red sequin dress,” suggested George as he searched the garage
cupboards for some of his video equipment.
“Take some of those male enhancing pills,
George. I love what they do for
you.”
“Your every wish is my sweetest command, Jane baby,
I mean Doris, damn I really mean, Sadie Honey,” stuttered George Darcy.
“Damn, George, if you do that one more time, I am
going to get all turned off!” lied Doris from inside of her masked disguise.
“You know how I get when I am just in a hurry,
Jane,” said George. Those incredible
female masks are getting me all mixed up.”
“Since you keep calling me Jane, would it turn you
on if you were fucking Jane in her red sequined dress right now?” quizzed the
frumpy Mrs. Smith as she took off her male fur-lined leather gloves and pulled
on the black chemically resistant rubber ones over her latex pair.
“You mean that I could call you Jane when you have
that blonde wig, tall red boots and that red sequined dress on?” asked George.
“Sure thing, Georgie Baby. I want to give you your best ever Valentine screwing,” declared
Doris from behind her disguise while knowing that George was completely
oblivious to her double meaning.
“That would be so totally awesome!” shouted George.
This new direction already had Doris completely
turned on. As a number of absolutely
insane scenarios to take George out screamed through her head, she realized
that George had set himself up. The
current situation no longer required her to make another bloody mess by using
his trusty revolver that now resided in the pocket of Jane’s heavy and large
mink coat.
George Darcy loved playing the bondage asphyxiation
game while cumming in his partner. He
had tried it with Doris and she hated his version of the choke-out
scenario. Normally he bound his partner
and drove down on top of her while she wore the choking plastic bag or a sealed
and/or rebreathing black rubber hood.
He had even proudly shown Doris video where he had acted out this
behavior with Jane.
Doris Romano envisioned that for this Valentine
masking affair, things were going to be totally different. She had George set up the video equipment
and turn it on. This way the tall,
buxom blonde would be on both Mike and George’s cameras. Then after some cheese, crackers and several
glasses of wine, the red dress clad and alleged Mrs. Jane Jones bound George
Darcy to his large bed’s metal frame with several of his silk ties and Jane’s
panty hose. George couldn’t have been
happier. He was already in seventh
heaven and that was before his sequin covered and fabulously masked tall, buxom
and totally blonde Valentine doll sat on top of him.
George had consumed almost all of the wine and Doris
used the same straws that she had used and taken from room 625 of the Riverside
Inn to suck down another tall cold bottle of water. She thought that she might have to threaten him into submission
with his trusty revolver to get him to submit to the bondage, but that wasn’t
necessary. With all the wine that he
drank, he was feeling no pain and he was so horny and turned on that he would
do anything possible to keep the sex games going.
“I hope that you took those male enhancing pills
like I told you to, George.”
“I did everything that you told me to do, my
sadistic Sadie Girl,” mumbled George.
“Fuck me to death, my red dressed Baby Jane Doll!”
Doris didn’t like any of his new names for her, but
the sadistic Mrs. Smith planned to comply with George’s wishes. She started by shoving a ball gag into his
mouth and took a feather duster and mercilessly tickled him into a towering
erection. George must have taken more than one of his pills. Then she slipped a double rubber down on his
throbbing male appendage. George moaned
with joy as she slid several constriction rings over the rubbers.
With her black chemically resistant rubber gloves on
over her latex ones, Mrs. Jane Smith shoved a but plug up George’s ass. She did this to ensure that he maintained
the correct position while she raised her skirt and dug the long and spiky red
heels of her red sky-high boots into his sides before impaling her love box on
his constrained too-hot-to-pop rod.
She was even more turned on when she realized that some of Mike’s dried
blood was rubbing off of the boots and onto the sheets of George’s bed. Mrs. Jane Smith rode and worked George’s
male extension until she convulsed in one incredible series of climaxes. Finally, Mrs. Jane Smith was getting a
wonderful taste of the great kinky sex that Doris had craved for so long and
never accomplished with Mike.
After resting a bit, the red dress-clad and
marvelously masked Mrs. Jane Jones said, “it is your turn to pop, lover boy,
but you can’t go until I tell you too. If you do cum before I tell you to cum,
there will be dire consequences. Are we
in total agreement with that?” George
Darcy nodded his agreement with complete excitement and total
anticipation. His temptress pulled the
ball gag out of his mouth with her rubber-covered hands. She slowly used those same rubber-adorned
hands to play with his maleness before removing the constriction rings. With deliberate drama she dragged her heavy
and oversize sequined covered breast forms up his chest and across his
face. “I hope that you aren’t cumming,
George Baby, I am not done yet,” said George’s ultimate tease.
“I am still holding it, Mommie,” squealed
George. “Do me Jane Baby like I know
you can!”
Doris didn’t like being called, Mommie or Jane Baby,
but said, “That’s a good boy. In fact
you are being so good, Georgie, I am going to do something really special for
you.”
“Take me all the way, Mommie Jane Baby!” shouted
George.
With that remark, she quickly reached for an
anatomically correct, strong black rubber hood that didn’t have eye, ear or
nose holes. The hood had an opening
around the mouth where a rebreathing device could be inserted. Doris had removed this wonderful almost
space age looking hood for a really serious rubberest from Jane’s walk-in
closet. Just as quickly, the tall,
buxom, and blonde Msr. Smith pulled the exotic and heavy black rubber hood onto
George’s head with her rubber-covered hands before he could utter a single
sound of protest. Almost as quickly
she secured and tightly sealed the base of the hood with the black two-inch
wide duct tape around his neck. “Is
this wild enough for you, Georgie?”
“Just fuck me to death, Mommie!” squealed George
through the small mouth hole of the hood.