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[By Landanmasters and others; uploaded with their permission] Part 1 What, Mummy and Daddy both killed? Wendy reeled in shock when she heard that there had been a plane crash, with everyone on board confirmed dead. Of course, in the back of her mind she knew that he wasn't her real father, but she was very young when her father had died, and she barely remembered him. Mummy's second husband had been the only father she'd known for over twenty years, and he had adopted her, so she proudly bore his surname of Wilkins. The only flaw in her very happy family life had been her stepbrother Brent, from her stepfather's first marriage. He bitterly resented her mother, blaming her for his parents' divorce. That was monumentally unfair. His first wife Lilith had been repeatedly unfaithful to him, not vice versa. Bitterly unhappy, he had been contemplating divorce when Wendy's real father died. Her mother was then his secretary, and it was scarcely surprising that they had consoled

[By Walter Hammond; uploaded with his permission] If you were to ask Liz what her occupation is, she would tell you that she’s an actor. And indeed, she has often appeared on the stage. She is well regarded by her peers; she is tall and beautiful, with a great figure and blonde hair. She is noted for her ability to do a wide range of accents convincingly. But like most actors, she does spend a lot of time “resting”. To make ends meet, she also works as a handywoman. Having a father and uncle who are professional builders and decorators, she has learnt how to do all sorts of odd jobs. In this role, she uses the Irish name of Mary Kelly and an accent to match, having found that people seem to like Irish builders. Women like to employ her, as they feel safer having another woman doing those jobs rather than allowing a strange man into the house. Some men don’t want to use her, as they don’t like the idea that a woman, especially one younger than they are, can do jobs that they

[By Mel; uploaded with her permission.] Only one more week to go! I was counting the days, counting the hours until my wedding. All the preparations were done; I had my dress and everything. And tonight was my hen night. I hadn't particularly wanted to bother with one, not being a great party animal, but my bridesmaids, Helen and Fiona, were most insistent. "Look, Mel, on your wedding day you'll have a whole lot of other things to worry about and you'll have to spend your time being nice to all Craig's great-aunts," urged Fi. "A hen night is your chance to spend some time with your close friends. I'm not saying we should go to a male strip show or something, just a night in." Put like that, it all seemed very reasonable. Anyway, in the twenty years I'd known her - since we were three year olds together at nursery - I'd rarely been able to resist giving in to her. Some people are natural dominants and she's very much one. She really looks the part, tall, well-muscled for a

This is a sequel to “At the Office” at https://www.deviantart.com/gaggedbound/art/At-the-Office-871469358 I had no idea how long I lay there, gagged, blindfolded and immobilised. It was more than enough time for me to imagine many possible scenarios that might soon follow. All of them ended in a bad way for me. There was just no way out. Would I be fired? Would I be held financially accountable? Worse still, would I be charged? Arrested? More than anything, I dreaded the inevitable sound of the door opening and the moment of discovery. It seemed like hours but it was only a few minutes until there was a knock on my door. I made as much noise as I could, which wasn’t a lot. My tongue was pressed down by the inflatable gag, my jaw was held fast by the muzzle and I could scarcely move. A voice called, "Are you OK?" it was Jenna, the office manager. When I could not reply, she rattled the door. “Hold on, I’ll come in through the next office, she said. Then, a moment later

[By Mel; uploaded with her permission] "Hello, Mel," said Jenny, when I bumped into her in the street. "Glad to see you. In fact, I was just going to phone you. All the girls are going to Bob's fancy dress Christmas party on Saturday." I was doubtful. "But you know Bob's really creepy. He keeps hinting that he wants to take me to bed," I complained. "Oh, don't be such a wet blanket, Mel. It'll be a party, lots of people there, including me and Claire and Judy, and, oh everyone. What could happen? Anyway, you could do worse – his father's a multi-millionaire and he's absolutely rolling in money, after all." "Well, that's as may be. Anyway, I don't like fancy dress parties; I never have any idea what to go as." The thing about Jenny is that whatever your objections, she can get around them in a flash. "The theme is classic children's stories. We've already got a character in mind for you – Puss in Boots. It's going to be perfect for you. Good, that's settled; I'll get

As I opened the door to my house, two masked women burst in. One held me securely while the other stuffed a rag into my mouth. It was a big rag, and I nearly choked. Once it was in, she sealed my mouth shut with duct tape. “Now, be a good girl and you won’t get hurt”, said the other one as she pulled my hands behind my back and tied my wrists together, cinching the bond tightly. I was too frightened to resist as they added ropes just above my knee and at my ankles, again cinching them tight. They dragged me into my front room and sat me on my sofa. “Now, don’t move or there will be trouble,” I was warned. I watched helplessly as they ransacked the room and then left. I heard them making a lot of noise and wondered if anyone else could hear. It was not likely, as the neighbours on both sides were on holiday. After a while, all went quiet. I saw that the burglars had not taken my phone; it was on the sideboard at the other end of the room. Well, it was a land line and

[By Landanmasters and two others; uploaded with their permission.] Who would have thought that in 1958 women would still be regarded as inferior beings? Yet here was Jane, someone with stellar (excuse the pun) qualifications in astronomy, facing opposition to being allowed to study for a PhD in astrophysics. "No girl has ever done that in this university." Well, someone has to be the first. "There’s no women’s toilet in the observatory." If she's alone there all night, what’s the problem with using the toilet? "It’s not safe for a girl to be left alone all night in the observatory." What can go wrong? Do they think she would smash the telescope or something? Fortunately for Jane, her family had donated a fortune to the college over the years, so they could put pressure on it to accept her. Well into her second year of research, Jane was making good progress. Being a stunningly beautiful blonde with a great figure, she was also popular with the mathematics and physics

[By Amy Flanagan; uploaded with her permission] "Hey, whereja think you're going, dressed like that?" I stopped and whirled round when I heard that harsh female voice. It was a policewoman, in her mid-twenties. As an English girl, used to unarmed and tremendously polite policemen, I found the American armed aggressive police officers very intimidating. The fact that she was female, and quite attractive with a very good figure, did not reassure me at all. "I'm sorry, officer," I replied. "Is there something wrong with my clothing? I'm from London and it's quite normal there." She looked me up and down, studying my close-fitting tailored blouse, clingy miniskirt and wide, tight belt that, I admit, did full justice to my figure. Her eyes drifted down to my shiny black shoes with stilettos. "Limey, huh? Well, round here the only girls who dress like that are whores at night, not respectable people at ten in the morning. Hands behind your back, palms facing out." I did not