Welcome to MOAN DAY, officially the hottest day of the week! What are we up to today? Well… we’re playing with scissors, amongst other things 😉
THE RIDING SCHOOL
Unsurprisingly Jenny didn’t let the invasive object in willingly and it was Hetty who pinched her nostrils together and waited for her to draw breath, which in turn allowed Agnes to apply enough pressure to push the ball inside her mouth. The strap was quickly fastened around her head by means of a single buckle. All screaming abruptly ceased, to be replaced with a muffled groaning noise of a much more acceptable volume. As if frustrated by the lack of noise she was able to make, the trainee increased her struggles to virtually no effect with the tight restraints binding her.
Fishing her earplugs out and throwing them in the general direction of the bin, Hetty sighed. ‘That’s better. Are you getting the scissors out or am I?’ she asked. Agnes didn’t reply. Shaking her head, she tapped her on the arm and pointed to her ears. Agnes got the message.
‘Sorry Hetty, did you say something?’
‘I said, are you getting the scissors or shall I?’ Henrietta made cutting motions with her fingers.
‘Oh, right. I’ll do it and you can write down the details, if that’s alright. Hetty didn’t bother to respond, searching around for her pencil which had somehow disappeared. Pulling out another one from her hair, she frowned as a curly red tendril flopped onto her cheek. Eyeing it with displeasure she said, ‘I need a haircut.’
Agnes picked up a pair of dress making shears and raised her eyebrows enquiringly.
‘From a professional, dear,’ said Hetty in response. ‘Now get to work, no dilly dallying. We’re off schedule by three hours already, heaven help us if we delay the lass any further. Her ass will be redder than a strawberry.’
Agnes didn’t need to be told twice and began cutting through the fabric of Jenny’s jeans, starting from the bottom and working her way up. She cut a long slice through the entire left side of the jeans and then began on the right, humming as she did so.
Jenny was almost positive this had to be a nightmare. If it wasn’t, her dad would be notified soon enough and would make sure that these idiots paid handsomely for their mistake. This sort of thing didn’t happen in this day and age. She had rights. She wanted a lawyer and a very heavy baseball bat, not necessarily in that order. Tied down to the table and gagged, she was only just holding herself together. Please, dear God, she prayed, don’t let it get any worse. That was before they started cutting away her clothes.
The jeans slid off easily in two sections and Agnes let them drop to the floor. That just left brown ankle boots, some socks and a pair of black lace panties to dispose of on her lower half. The first two were removed by hand and the panties melted under the pressure of the sharp steel blade. The top half was considerably easier, consisting of just an angora sweater and a matching black lace bra. The glistening scissors slid effortlessly through wool and lace, leaving the subject of their attentions swiftly naked.
Anger had replaced shock in Jenny’s face. Did they not know that her designer jeans cost over £400? The sweater was closer to £800 and would be impossible to replace as it was one of a kind. She wanted to gouge their eyes out. How dare they! Struggling futilely at the thick brown straps that bound her, Jenny tried hard to make her concerns known, but the sound that came out was nothing more than a croak. It took some moments to realise that ruined designer clothes were the least of her worries. She was naked, she was gagged and she was wide open for a reason. A tendril of fear began to take root.
|1.||The Crypt of Morbius||2.||All Day Need|
|3.||Feels So Good||4.||Care for a little caning? Melody Parks|
|5.||Rebecca Black: Midday: Week Three|