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Williamsburg was not a prime destination for me. I really wasn't interested in that kind of thing, but since it was a long boring weekend and it was relatively nearby, I went. As expected, I found it for the most part not very interesting. As I usually did when I found things less than interesting, I went exploring off the beaten path, looking for all the forbidden areas that the general public is not supposed to get into. It didn't take me long to find several of them. Most were every bit as boring as the rest of the place, but one storage building was interesting. It was well off the main path, and was chain link fenced and gated. The gate was closed and locked, but there was easily enough space between the gate and the fence to slip through. The door to the storage building was slightly ajar, and there were windows in the building, but they were too dusty to see through from where I was. To me, it was an open invitation. I slipped through the gap in the fence and went inside, leaving the door open behind me. The building was pretty full, but it was logically arranged and stacked. There was enough light coming in through the door and dusty windows to see clearly. Most of the front half of the building was filled with old furniture, some old woodwork, doors and the like, and crates. I made my way to the back of the building, and it got interesting. In the back were several sets of pillaries and stocks. A box nearby was full of shackles, ball gags, and a variety of other devices, some of which I did not recognize. I was still digging through the box when I heard a noise and voices coming from the front of the building. I ducked behind some boxes in the corner, positioning myself so that I could see between them but so that I couldn't be seen. The stocks and pillaries were between me and the front exit, but from my position I could see another door at the back. The voices got closer and louder, and I could tell it was a guy and a girl. I could hear them talking about the things in the building as they got closer to where I was. After a few minutes, they moved into a position where I could see them. They were obviously not staff, and were just wandering around and exploring like I had been. The guy was about 17, and the girl was about 15. The guy had a camera. From their conversation and looks, they were brother and sister. She really wasn't bad looking. She was fairly tall, about 5'6" or so, and appeared to be well built. She had on a loose fitting, white peasant top and blue polyester loose fitting pants and tennis shoes. I watched as they looked over the pillaries and stocks. The guy suggested that taking pictures in the stocks would be fun, so he got in one first and she fastened him in. She took a couple of pictures and then let him out. It was her turn then. It was then that he noticed the box full of bindings and things. He suggested that they make her picture even more realistic. He put a ball gag on her and then put her in the stocks and fastened them. He shot three or four pictures from different positions, and then told her that he had to go now. She thought he was kidding, and so did I, but he said he wanted to get even with her for something she had done to him, and that he would be back in an hour. She tried to yell at him, but it was impossible with the ball gag on. He took off for the front of the building and left her there. I heard the door close and the gate rattle as he left. She tried for a few minutes to get out, and I did nothing. Finally, I decided that I really should let her out, so I came out of my hiding place and walked toward her. I was coming from behind, so she couldn't see me. As I got closer, I began to think in another direction entirely. She was helpless. She couldn't see me. She couldn't yell loud enough to attract any attention. Her brother wouldn't be back for an hour. Her semi-standing position in the stocks was just about the right height...........(cont) |
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A MrDouble Production: mrdouble Changes last made on: Wednesday AM, November 18, 1998 |
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| Copyright 1996-8, Mr Double, ALL Rights Reserved | |||
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| Copyright © 1998, Spangles Muldoon, ALL Rights Reserved |