He was growing up. Baseballgloves, Sandman comics and pressed vinyl had losttheir appeal. He'd uncovered a well of fantasy in thedepths of his mind; a...shadow world swarming withmoist, sultry images. They were things he'd spied herea hundred times in the past but had never reallynoticed until now. Silk scarves. Lace gloves. Glossyblack stilettos. Long satin evening gowns that clungto the body like a gleaming second skin. SignatureDior stockings with French heels and seams running upthe back.It. She writhed in agony, twisting her hips from side to side as the cane tapped it's warning to her injured flesh. Becca bit her lip to keep from begging for him to go slower. Her head came up as far as the bar would allow then dropped as she hung as far as her restraints would allow. Her toes curled as she fought to keep still.Another flash of agony ripped into her skin and deeper through the muscle beneath. Becca cried out again as her body jolted. Her back arched as she reflexively strained. More

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