Ellen mumbled something when she realized that I was tampering with the MFM, but was too engrossed in her already mounting excitement to do anything else.
I left the room, lowered the lights to an almost twilight level and went off to spend the rest of the evening thrashing Duet with a cat until she was babbling nonsense.
Back in her little Sector B torment room, Ellen was soon panting, her breath coming in short gasps through the hole in the hood, the gag causing more obstruction than she had expected. The collar was also more than she, even with her extensive self-bondage experience, had bargained for and as she sought to relieve some of the upward tension she activated the arm winch once again and was rewarded by being pulled upwards even higher. Her legs screamed from the added ten
