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We all go through moments of great duress, and when those portentous moments arrive we'd like to think that we'd handle ourselves with calm, poise, aplomb. There have been trying times in my life when I've been cool as the proverbial cucumber, and I'd like to think that more often than not, when the chips are on the line, I can take whatever life dishes out.

But it's a lot harder to behave like a hero when you're wearing a dog collar. And when you're chained to a bedpost and, behind a thick black curtain, your legs are held wide apart by two sets of hands and a third person is lubricating your anus with a cool jelly. And I speak from experience, because that's the position I found myself in the day Elaine decided to teach Bridget and me a lesson. At the time I didn't know what that lesson was. Bridget and I were lying on the bed, the lower halves of our bodies hidden from view by a black shroud that bisected the bed. The blonde goddess beside me had just had her pussy eaten and then fucked by, I was almost positive, my parents. And now it was my turn. Two other people had joined Elaine on the other side of the curtain, and I would have bet the farm that the latest interlopers were Bridget's mother and father.

But I wasn't too concerned about them. No, what I was concerned about were the soft fingers probing my rectum, slowly pushing deeper and deeper, the slippery gel filling my anus and getting me nice and pliant for...what? Bridget had seen the implement and had nearly burst into ...

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