I lied, we’re not doing any of those things! The whole point (that I admittedly got away from) was that this was going to be holiday-themed smut. May Day was last week, and that’s a great holiday to write smut about! There’s a phallic symbol, ribbons/ropes for bondage, and some fertility going on. So, here we go, the gang celebrates May Day!
~Richard

---

Chelsea wriggled her ankles and wrists, making sure the bonds were nice and tight. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she said. 

Mark grinned and slapped Arnold on the back, “It was all Arnie’s idea. Really, I think it’s rather devious,” he wiped a fake tear from his eye. “He’s growing up so fast.”

“But this is the boring kind of bondage! The kind where you spend all this time tying me up and stuff just so I’m inaccessible! It’s like… I dunno, backward Christmas or something. Imagine if you came down on Christmas morning and had a bunch of presents under the tree, and instead of opening them, you had to wrap them up and not touch them all day.”

Hannah giggled, “Sounds to me like the present is the one complaining here. The rest of us are unwrapped and going to have lots of fun.

Chelsea pouted and rolled her eyes. “This is clearly more your kind of thing. Why aren’t you the one up here?”

“Because Arnie wanted it to be you, and Daddy likes it when you get all frustrated and squirmy.”

“We have to do what Arnold wants sometimes. It’s not fair that he’s always the one getting caged and cucked and teased…” said Mark.

“I do regret it a little bit,” Arnold said, walking over to her. “You look amazing in that outfit.” He traced a hand over the fabric vine running across Chelsea’s breast, barely covering her nipples. He’d found it online as a fae queen outfit, the sort of thing that covered only a few bits to make the rest seem even more enticing. The rest were simply naked, save for flower crowns that Hannah had made.

“If you want to punish him later, he did keep part of it from you,” Mark said, holding up a whip with a green tail and a red rose-shaped pommel.

“Using that on your ass might make it worth it,” Chelsea said, giving Arnold a glare. He gulped but couldn’t help from grinning as his cock twitched a little. “Now that I get a present when you three are done, I think we should get started.”

They laughed and picked up the ribbons, running from the top of the pole. They slowly circled around her, the ribbon wrapping around the pole until Arnold’s strand crossed over her forehead. They made it another revolution, Hannah’s covering one of her eyes, before Mark’s wrapped over her mouth. 

“Breathing okay?” he asked.

She grunted in the affirmative and nodded her head as best she could. On the next pass, he put a small bell in her hands, something she could drop if she needed out.

She let out a soft moan as Hannah’s next pass slid over her neck, providing just the right amount of light pressure to make her rub her thighs together. Hannah giggled as she made another loop around, her ribbon falling between Chelsea’s breasts, making both of them stand out all the more.

A few more wraps brought Mark between her legs. He came in close, kissing up the side of her neck while he lifted her thigh slightly with one hand, feeling the wetness there.

“And you said you didn’t like this kind of bondage,” he said, slipping his ribbon under her leg and pulling it up a little. The red fabric lifted up the already short skirt of her dress, revealing her pale skin underneath, before pulling taut against her pussy lips, drawing a whine from her.

“There we go, just grind on that if you get too frustrated.”

“Canf I cumfff?” Chelsea asked, muffled but not totally by the ribbon.

“What do you two think?”

Hannah giggled and shook her head.

Arnold looked into her eyes, almost withering under her gaze, his cheeks blazing red. But he shook his head.

“Oooh, he really is getting into it. Maybe you’ll be in chastity next, birdie.”

Chelsea just growled.

A few more loops had her thoroughly locked in place, and Mark tied the lines together at the base of the pole.

“Alright, this is your scene, what’s next, A-Man?”

---

Hope you enjoyed! We’ll probably be here most of the month. I’m going to go play with Jayden after she posts this. I think she feels similarly about this kind of bondage to Chelsea, but I’m sure she’ll be nice and wet after she reads it.

We finally come to the last Sunday in April, leaving me with no logical choice but Mark and Chelsea’s meet cute. I thought a lot about this one this month and honestly, I don’t know that I’m any closer to what to do with it than when I started. It’s a shame, since the proposal scene Hallmark starts with actually is a meet cute, but I can’t just repost that. I’ll put a longer note explaining some things at the end, but for now, enjoy one way that Mark and Chelsea maybe could’ve met, in some universe.
~Richard

---

subadubdub69: *kneels* I’m so excited for tonight, Sir.

MakerMark: *smirks* Sure you’re not scared?

subadubdub69: A little. But that makes it fun.

MakerMark: I assume you’ll be wearing the outfit I picked out for you earlier.

subadubdub69: Yes, Sir.

MakerMark: I’ll have a red scarf on. I’ll probably spot you first, but just in case. I’ll finish getting ready and see you soon, pet.

subadubdub69: I can’t wait, Sir.

Chelsea signed off of AIM and took a deep breath. She was finally going to meet Him. Besides the scarf, she had no idea what he looked like. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Creamy white skin and (if the carpets matched the drapes) dark brown hair. They’d been IMing for most of the semester when she responded to his Craigslist post and decided they couldn’t go away from winter break without meeting face-to-face. Thanksgiving break had been hell. Back in her tiny room at her parents’ house, trying to follow all his orders with them on top of her all the time. Sir had been even more demanding than usual, probably because he had more free time. Her nipples ached as she remembered the day she’d been stuck with binder clips on for half an hour due to an unplanned mother-daughter lunch date.

Bonnie, her roommate, had already left for the semester, leaving her free to lounge around naked with all her toys on the bed. Sir ordered her to wear a buttplug (she’d recently worked up to being able to keep the 3 incher in for a prolonged period of time), a white button-down shirt (no bra, but the material was just thick enough), a small silky red scarf (not quite a collar…) and a short pencil skirt (no panties either). They’d watched Secretary “together” (synced up over Skype) for a first date, and he’d teased her about being his sexretary ever since. Next to the clothes was a length of black rope. She’d learned to tie a simple harness around her hips that framed her cunt beautifully. She blushed at the thought of him checking it at the restaurant. Fighting the urge to rub one out before the date, she did her makeup (slut-red lipstick as He called it), hair (a single pony in the back for Him to hold), tied the harness, popped in the plug (with a moan), and put on the outfit. She was lucky it hadn’t snowed. He’d left her footwear at her discretion, knowing she didn’t have a car on campus and would have to walk the half mile in whatever she picked.

She picked a pair of 3 inch heels in black. High enough to make her ass look great and show her dedication, but not so bad that she’d be forced to crawl before He ordered it.

She slipped a long black coat over all of it and headed out of her dorm room. No one was in the hallway. Probably for the best. The other girls on the floor would have something to say about her slipping out right before break in this outfit.

The elevator ride down the eight floors seemed to take forever, and she rubbed her thighs together, trying to keep her dripping cunt under control. How was she going to make it through dinner without staining the chair?

Finally, she made it down, out the front door (waving as casually as she could at the desk RA), and down the hill into town. The wind teased her bare legs at the bottom of her coat. How cold would it be tonight? It wouldn’t matter. There was only one place she intended to be after dinner, and that was His bedroom. Visions of whips, chains, wax, and gags kept her occupied, and she barely even realized she was standing in front of the cafe. She slid out of the coat so he would be able to see her and stepped inside. Someone was sitting near the back in a black sweater and red scarf. Her heart stopped when she saw him, and her jaw dropped. His eyes showed almost the same, but he stood up and waved her over.

“Mark? Is that you? Are you?” she walked back to the table and grabbed onto it as her legs turned to jelly.

“Chelsea? I thought you gave me a fake name! I can’t believe it.”

She nodded slowly. 

“Sit down,” he said, and the subby part of her brain buzzed and put her ass in the chair before she could think about it.

“So, just to be clear, you’re MakerMark?”

He nodded. “And you’re subadubdub69?”

“Yeah,” she said, the screenname taking away some of the awkwardness. She tried to tack a Sir on at the end, but her tongue didn’t quite get there.

“I can’t believe I spent the last three months cybering with a girl who sat three seats behind me in senior pre-calc.”

“I… yeah… this is weird…”

He gave her a little smirk, one that made her forget all about tangents and back to the nights she’d stayed up late hurting herself for him.

“Well, let’s discuss it over dinner. Don’t order too heavy, though. I still plan to take you back with me when we’re finished.”

Chelsea nodded and picked up the menu. “I’d like that. Sir.”

---

Like I said, I spent a lot of time thinking about how Mark and Chelsea would’ve met. I don’t think I formally established it earlier in Hallmark, but I’ve given just enough details to make it annoying. Long story short, they’re kind of boxed in by the ages I put them at earlier in the story, which has them together in high school but broken up early in college. Not only does that put me in the kind of weird position of having to write BDSM smut about possible minors (and where are they going to get money for toys and outfits and parties!?) it also leaves me with a fairly short timespan to cram it all into. How is Chelsea supposed to be this super experienced sub when she’s only had one Dom, and probably only for a few months at that? 

In the end, I decided to push the whole thing up, have them meet in college and stay together for at least a couple years, and then let them fumble around and reunite in their early to mid-thirties. I imagine them around that age anyway, so it’s not a huge change. I think I like this scene, or a variant of it, as the way they first “meet” and if I ever do a “clean” version of the story, I’ll work it in. Thanks to everyone who followed along this month. If any of you are new from AtoZ, I hope you’ll stick around for the continuing adventures of Chelsea, Mark, Arnie, Hannah, and all the rest. I just realized all but one of the stories was a Mark-Meet-Cute, and I kind of regret not finding a way to make that last one work. Oh well. I’m not sure what’s coming next week. Part of me wants to get back to the main story, but both this one and Mark and Hannah ended on a fun little cliffhanger themselves that I could probably wrap up in a week or two. Drop a comment if you care, otherwise we’ll all find out next week!

Time for… Mark and Arnie! This one should be fun. Next week I have to figure out if I’m going to try to squeeze into the timeline I set up or retcon the crap out of Mark and Chelsea’s meet cute. Also, the game day went from Bill’s house to Jenny’s. Bill and Jenny are married or something. Just roll with it.
~Richard

---

Arnold hummed to himself as he pulled into Bill’s driveway. He grabbed his army case and cider from the passenger seat and hopped out of the car. He let himself in and followed the familiar path into the kitchen, something spicy wafting out towards him.

“How’s it going, guys?” he asked. “Oh, you must be Pete!”

He’d never seen the guy leaning over the counter before. He was stirring a crockpot full of something orange, and he turned to face Arnold.

“Yeah. Arnold, right?” he closed the pot and held out a hand. Arnold set his cider on the counter and shook it. 

“That’s me. Nice to meet you.”

Pete glanced at the beer and smiled. “Oh, cider. That’s fun. I was afraid I’d have to pick between six flavors of Pinesol.”

Arnold laughed. “Yeah, Bill and the guys like their IPAs. What’d you bring?”

“Salsa-queso chicken. Super easy, three ingredients, pretty tasty. Goes good with tortilla chips.

Arnold looked down at it. “My fiancée makes something similar. Hers is a little thicker though.”

“Yeah, it depends on how long you cook it for and stuff. Some people tell me it’s a soup, but it’s supposed to be more of a dip.”

“Well, I’ll have to have some in a little bit. Where are the other guys?”

“They’re out back taking a hit. You want to go out?”

“Nah, I’ll stick with the cider,” he put his army box case on the table and started unpacking. “What do you play?”

“I dabble. I brought Hellborne today.”

“Summon or sacrifice?”

“Summon. Sacrifice is boring in big games, you spend three quarters of the game waiting instead of only half like one vee one. What’ve you got?”

“Betrayed Paladins.”

“Nice! Do you roll an Ex?”

“Of course. Spent like a week on him.” He fished the model out and passed him over to the new guy, showing off the wyvern on his breastplate. 

Pete whistled. “Nice detail on the crest. I wish I could get texture like that.”

“Thanks. It helps that it’s freaking huge. Those tiny summons are a pain to do detail on.”

“They are, I had fun with this summoner though.” He passed over a model of a woman in a blood colored chainmail bikini with firey whips.

“Was this a succubus?”

“It was, but Ariel found a nicer one and printed me one so I decided to do a conversion.”

“Cool work turning the whips into fire.”

“Yeah, that was a pain. Worth it, though. Gotta keep those Geminis in line.”

“Ughhhh, are you going to make me kill them like fifty times?”

“Only if I want to lose. I should go for at least sixty or seventy in a game this size.

---

Let’s see if Jaden gets this up tonight or is too busy playing her mouse clock board game…

Jayden did get it up tonight, ha!

Jayden will be back tomorrow, and I’ll see you all next Sunday!

Richard back with our next meet cute. Today, I’m doing Chelsea and Arnold, mostly because I’m tired and it’s the most straightforward of the ones I have left. I looked back and don’t think I’ve done any details for them. Or a physical description for Arnold, I’m pretty sure. I did find out I apparently had Mark calling her birdie, which I completely dropped. This will be “fun” to edit someday. Maybe.

---

Chelsea glared through the window of the snack stand as a bunch of girls dressed as slutty-whatevers ran screaming from the haunted house. Someone knocked on the backdoor before letting himself in.

“Break time!” he said. ‘He’ being some dingus dressed in a zombie fast food worker outfit with a goofy smile on his lightly freckled face underneath a mop of lightly fake blood-stained blond hair.

“Ugh, do I have to?” Chelsea asked.

“Do you have to go on break? I think state law says we have to give you a break, but I don’t think you technically have to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

“Good,” she said, plopping down on a stool near the back of the shack and grabbing a caramel apple. Old Man Shaffer had a fairly lax policy about free food on break.

“Is there a reason you want to sit in here? Working on getting that popcorn smell really soaked into your costume?”

Her costume was a biker jacket with some poorly applied special effects makeup.

“Half the people out there are on a date. The other half are trying to get one. Last time I went out on my break a Frankenstein tried to proposition me.”

“Frankenstein or the monster?”

“I know the monster isn’t called Frankenstein. If you’re going to be a pain in the ass, maybe I will go for a walk.”

He pouted a little. He was cute when he pouted. Chelsea scowled again.

“Sorry. Let me start over. Your name is Chelsea, right?”

She nodded.

“I’m Arnold. Are you in school? I’m up on the hill, majoring in psychology.”

“Yeah, but I’m out at Fredrysville. Comp sci.”

“Just working here over the long weekend?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t the plan, but what else am I going to do?”

“I don’t know. What was the plan?”

“Put on a much sexier outfit than this and bone my boyfriend for 36 consecutive hours.”

“Ah. Did he… run out early?”

“I don’t know where he went. I haven’t heard from him in a month. Went to his dorm and they wouldn’t let me in. Thought about hiding in the bushes, but decided I wasn’t quite that crazy…”

“Oooh. Yeah, that sucks. You should have some caramel corn with your apple, that’s at least a two snack sob story.”

She dumped a scoop into a paper bowl.

“You’re right. How about you? Shouldn’t you be at some sorostitute Halloween party?”

“Not really my scene. Might as well make a couple bucks, right?”

“That’s almost as depressing as my story. When’s your shift over?”

“Whenever we get everyone wrangled out, why?”

“You got a ride? Or are you one of those poor carless freshmen?”

“We usually all just pile in the back of someone’s car.”

“Great. I’ll meet you here when you get out.”

“Okay… Are we going somewhere?”

“I dunno, maybe a bar, maybe a diner. We can’t both spend Halloween weekend as walking sob stories.”

---

You know, Arnie has that costume fetish, I could probably have used that here…

Jayden will be back tomorrow, and I’ll see you all next Sunday!

Welcome A to Z peeps! I’m Richard, Jayden’s husband. This month, I’ll be joining in on our meet cute theme with first meetings for the characters in my ongoing story Hallmark. I post a chapter most Sundays so it fits in with this being the “off” day for A to Z nicely. You shouldn’t have to read the story for these to make sense, so feel free to hop in. 

Today’s snippet is for Mark (the “bad boy” of the traditional male-lead dichotomy) with Hannah (Chelsea, the female lead,’s best friend). Also, loosely based on a true story from when I was in college. Fun!

---

There are exactly three bars in Bellairsville, catering to three different clientele. The Rusty Knocker is a college meat market with the cheapest, shittiest drinks and the best chance of going home with someone. The decor changes every 10 feet since that’s how far every owner gets before they sell it and someone else starts over. The 49er is a sports bar. It looks like every other sports bar and is a home away from home for everyone too old for The Knocker and not hipster enough for the third bar. I think they still have a picture with me in the background hanging on one wall from when the high school football team went to states. I haven’t been back yet, so I’m not sure.

Instead, I was going to The Enigma, which had been a diner when I left town. Now, it was a hipster bar, and it redecorated even more often than The Knocker, but much more coherently. Their social media said it was line dance night, and I somehow decided that was what I wanted to do on a Friday night. It couldn’t go any worse than running into my ex mid-proposal at the haunted house like I had last weekend.

I headed in, wearing my finest jeans and flannel in an attempt to fit the theme, and sat on a stool. It was early, still pretty empty, they were setting up a dance floor at one end of the bar, and a mechanical bull in the other. The bartender, wearing a vest with a big yellow sheriff star, a ten-gallon hat, and boots with spurs that jingled as he walked, moseyed over.

“What’ll it be?” he asked in a drawl that would’ve made an Italian bounty hunter cringe.

“What does a cowboy who doesn’t want an overpriced theme drink have?” I asked.

“Got some moonshine from a distillery ten miles up the road. Smoother than you’d expect.” The accent was gone.

“Sure. I’ve been making nothing but questionable decisions lately. Let’s kick things off with some moonshine.”

He poured me a shot. I pounded it and grinned. I expected something with the texture of cactus needles and the taste of a flaming boot, but it was smooth and mild.

“You were right. That was good. Mix it with something so I can have a sipper?”

“How do you feel about apple pie?”

“Seasonally appropriate and as American as cowboys,” I passed him my credit card, “keep it open.”

He came back with a lightly fizzing collins glass.

“Club soda, ‘shine, apple cider.”

“Perfect.” I took the drink and did a slow loop. A small crowd had gathered on the dance floor, where a guy wearing boots that cost more than my car was getting ready to give a lesson. I wasn’t drunk enough for that, yet.

A small line was also forming for the mechanical bull, and I decided that was a better plan for mostly sober.

I walked through the stockade they’d set up around it and got in line behind a short curvy girl with an outfit that almost matched mine (shirt tied below her boobs, jeans cut off, and an obnoxious pink blinking cowboy hat). She looked kind of familiar. She glanced over her shoulder at me, smiled, and then her eyes snapped open. She grabbed her phone and started typing frantically.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah! Sorry, you just look kind of familiar.”

“I went to high school here. You look kind of familiar too.”

“My name’s Hannah…” she said, voice trailing off in a way that made it sound like it was a fake name, but the wince looking more like she had forgotten to. “I just moved in a year or so ago for work. I’m a guide at the state park.”

“That’s exciting. I just moved back in a couple weeks ago. My mom wants to retire, so I’m helping her figure out what to do with her nursery.”

“Oh, the one on 5th? That place is so cute! They did a great native species project with us last year.”

I nodded. Mom had said something about that on the phone. We moved up to the front of the line and nodded towards the bull. She turned around as we watched the guy ahead of her climb on. He made it about five seconds before he flopped into the mini moon bounce underneath.

“I think you can beat that,” I said.

She blushed a little and giggled. “Buy me a drink if I do?”

“Sure. And if you don’t, you can top me off,” I said, waving my drink in her direction.

She stomped out as best she could, the floor bucking almost as much as the bull as she did. There’s a reason they don’t let you on bouncy castles past ten years old. She made it to the bull, its ass at about eye level, and tried to haul herself up. She glanced over at the operator, who shrugged and pointed to a sign. For liability reasons, we cannot help you on or off the bull.

I sighed, put my glass on one of the “corral” posts, and stomped through the bounce pit.

“Want a hand?” I said, holding one out.

She gave me another one of those blushing giggles, making my jeans bulge a little, and took it, levering herself up into the saddle.

“Good luck, little lady,” I said with a wink before stumbling out of the danger zone.

---

And that’s (sort of) the story of how I hooked up with a girl after I helped her onto the mechanical bull at freshman orientation in undergrad. There’s probably another good post or two here, so I might have to circle back to it at some point.

I originally wanted to do a similarish story for Mark and Chelsea, but it didn’t line up with the (probably already messed up) timeline I made for them. With a few tweaks, I think it works well for these two instead. Besides, I should probably save M&C for the end anyway.

Jayden will be back tomorrow, and I’ll see you all next Sunday!

I should’ve just finished this apparently, since this week is quite short.
– Richard

---

Chelsea leaned against the cage, her own hands squeezing the bars just above 

Arnold’s. She closed her eyes and moaned as he worked his tongue up and down her pussy, periodically stopping to suck against her clit. After a few minutes, she let go of the bars, slipping her fingers under her bra to twist her nipples, drawing a low groan as her knees flexed involuntarily. “Is this what you want, boy? To be locked up and eating my clit? Would you like it even better if another man’s cum was dripping out of it?”

Arnold let out a groan that sounded affirmative, but she smothered him when the vibrations brushed her clit just right, and she pressed her hips in harder. “Fuck! Just like that, right there!”

Arnold moaned again and flicked his tongue even harder. She kept playing with her breast with one hand and snapped another picture of him down there with her phone. As she did, Hannah’s message popped up.

“Just do it already. You want it, he wants it, Arnie apparently wants it. And I don’t want to deal with your drama anymore.”

Chelsea started to roll her eyes, only for them to bounce back further when Arnold slipped his tongue in deeper.

“Fine! But you’re all pampering me for a month when he fucks me over again!”

She added all the pictures to a message for Mark and typed, “Arnie says, ‘Will you be our bull-entine?’”

Her finger hovered over the send button for a few seconds, heart pounding and breath quickening. As her orgasm rushed closer and closer, she finally hit it, then dropped her phone to the floor as she clung to the cage, barely keeping herself up as she came. She screamed as loud as she could, letting out all the tension of the last few months before slowly sliding down the floor next to Arnie.

“Nice job, baby,” she said, leaning in to kiss him, tasting her juices on his lips.

“Thank you, Miss,” he said.

They nuzzled together for a few minutes before her phone chimed from the floor. She craned her neck to read the notification.

1 new message

She recognized the number: Mark’s.

---

Enjoy your cliffhanger! I’ll be helping Jayden with her A-Z meet cutes next month. Chelsea, Arnold, Mark, Hannah, and everyone else will be appearing, but the timeline won’t actually be moving forward until sometime in May! Have fun!

Apparently, this is the Valentine’s that stretches on forever.
– Jayden

---

Chelsea fumbled her phone and coughed, trying to keep her composure at his suggestions.

“Suggesting I send sexy pics to my ex-boyfriend is an… interesting choice of Valentine’s Day activities.”

She took some more pictures to keep herself busy, spreading her legs, snapping a shot of her bare, dripping pussy.

Arnold looked up at her. “I know you want to. You’ve been so horny I could barely keep up with you since you bumped into him on our engagement night.”

“That was some bad timing, wasn’t it…”

“I dunno. I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed it. I like doing the dress up and stuff. And I got hot watching you spanking Hannah. But you need someone to boss you around and slap you around too.”

“And that’s who you want me to go to? My ex-boyfriend slash asshole who abandoned me?”

“I think that’s who you want to do it. And I think he’s good at it. You can pretend all you want, but I can tell you still want him. And he seemed very safe when we played in the basement.”

Chelsea attached the photos to a message on her phone and set it down on the bench, dropping down in front of the bars to look at Arnold.

“What happened?” Arnold asked. “You’ve said a hundred times that he’s an asshole, he abandoned you, all that stuff. And I believe you. But that doesn’t seem like the guy he is now.”

“That’s exactly the thing. He gets in your head. He’s good at tricking people.”

“I think he got in your head a decade and a half ago, and you’ve built him up into this crazy evil mastermind. You never made it sound like he actually did anything to hurt you; he just ghosted you. Which is shitty, don’t get me wrong, but you guys were what, twenty?

“Yeah. I guess.”

“And you’re totally right to feel hurt, and he’s wrong for doing it. But you act like he stole your dog or something.”

“I don’t think you realize how into him I was. When he cut me off, it was like… I dunno, losing an arm or something. This huge part of me was just gone.”

“I think I kind of get it. I think that’s how I’d feel if you disappeared on me.”

“And so on Valentine’s you’re asking me to get back with the guy that did that?”

“You could send them to Bonnie if you want. I just thought you’d have more fun with him.”

“Oooh, Bonnie’s a good idea. She was around back then. She’ll know what to do.”

“She’s totally going to take my side. She’s been wanting you guys to ‘stop being dramatic and just bone’ for months.”

“When did you talk to her about that!?”

“We were all out for drinks one night. You went to pee. She was drunk and said something about how you used to have to ask him to go to the bathroom, and it was code for hooking up.”

“One of you is mixing up two different kinks. But fine, I’ll send them to her first.”

She deleted the picture of her pussy and quickly added a message: 

Guess who got himself locked in a cage and is trying to get me to cuck him with my demonic ex.

“Now we’ll see how long it takes her to answer,” Chelsea said, standing back up and pressing her thighs against the bars of the cage. “In the meantime, shut up and put that tongue of yours to better use, bitch!”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Arnold said, grabbing the bars with his hands and shoving his face halfway between them, sliding his tongue across her lower lips and drawing a moan from her upper ones.

---

Come back soon for TMI Tuesday, more Hallmark, and maybe even a Sexy Short!