Turning to face her captive, Natasha shivered with expectation. She had waited so long for this moment, and now it was here she could barely contain herself. The sight of the unfortunate man, bound tight to the table by roll upon roll of cling film until he could not move so much as a fingertip, sent thrills of excitement up her spine and set her she-cock twitching in her latex

‘Good morning, little boy,’ Mrs. Johnson smiled as Craig opened his eyes. She was laid out on the end of his pristine white bedsheets with a hungry look in her eye. Her pink stockings clung tightly to her slender legs, and she was wearing one of Mr. Johnson’s shirts – although to say she was wearing it might have been overstating it a little; it hung open to reveal her

Clearly the woman was disappointed in what she was seeing, and though he had only just stumbled from the fetid confines of the delivery truck – a place worse than any he could think of – her iron glare already made him wish he had stayed on board. She was encased almost head to toe in black latex, a tight corset pulling in her waist, with the only visible flesh

Craig was lounging in front of the TV screen, paying little attention to the crappy reality show blaring on as he scrolled through pictures of practically naked girls on his phone, when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Hauling himself lazily up, he glanced at the clock on his wall: 11.37. Fucking twenty to midnight. Furious at the distraction, he shuffled into the hallway to answer it.