" Ivy turned onto Willow's street. "He's a hard one—ha ha—to forget." "Mmmm." With any luck, Willow thought, Clay had forgotten all about her. "Here you go. The flowers look great, Willow. Wish I had your touch with that. It just all says 'Spring is here! Be happy!'" Ivy looked at the trail of colorful flowers that led up to Willow's door. There were nasturtiums, petunias and hyacinths creating a bright line up to the porch. More grew in plant boxes that hung on the porch railing, and a pretty green wreath hung on the door. "Thanks. It's fun. I can help you set some up at your place if you want, just give me a call." "No, I have too much compassion for the flowers to subject them to me." Ivy winked. "I'll just borrow from you when I need help." "No problem. Thanks for the ride." Willow stepped out and closed the door, then waved as Ivy pulled away. x-x-x-x Clay Wilder listened with forced patience as his best friend's sister, Holly, chattered on about recruiting volunteers for the. But I won’t, and you won’t be able to kill yourself. Even that escape has been stripped from you.? The hand tugged at the waistband of Jack’s uniform slacks. ?You’re going to be with me for a long, long time. If you’re good, and obedient, maybe someday you’ll learn to love the pain. And you’ll be happy.??Don’t touch me you sick bastard!? But the words came out with less strength than Jack hoped. He felt cold metal slide into his waistband, and with a snipping sound, his pants sliced open. ?No-NO!??Scream all you like, my pet. No one is going to hear you.? His pants were stripped away into rags and tossed aside. His briefs were quick to follow, as Jack shrieked in protest. A hot weight pressed against his backend and along his back as his captor leaned over to whisper hot in his ear. ?And I love your fear.?A hand pressed against Jack’s ass, massaging the almost-non-existent padding before sliding along the crack. ?One day, you will give yourself willingly to me, because your pain will.
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