Tombstone by Candace Smith Page A

brutally into her little red bottom.   Purple bruised ridges of welts were visible across the tortured flesh.   Another son was thrusting with equal enthusiasm into her pussy, while still another gripped the sides of her mask and his cock disappeared down her throat.   Claudine could not imagine having three men take her at once, and yet the little pixie’s bottom clenched and her throat swallowed as if she were insanely aroused.
    Next to her, Pleasure was also squatting.   A man was sitting on a stool placed beneath her, with his hands on the floor and his feet braced in front of him while he rocked into the white suited twin’s pussy.   A woman was smiling down at her, spreading her labia over her mouth while the girl stretched her tongue.   Claudine shivered.   The scene reminded her of a baby bird being fed by its mother.   The woman was surprisingly gentle, stroking the eager twin’s rubber coated brow.   It seemed several of the sons or the sister were constantly tormenting the twins.
    There were many other unique mannequin furnishings, most frozen and holding trays or posed in lewd display.   Donald guided Claudine to observe all of them, but he did not go out of his way to overtly humiliate her.   The one frightening moment was when Tombstone approached.   He ran his hands around the suit, checking for wear or blemishes.   Pleased, he stroked her clit, and she squealed in panicked response.   “I considered her my masterpiece, Donald.   Her body is perfect.”
    Claudine pleaded for her neck to move so that she could beg Donald with her eyes.   Her thoughts echoed back to the promise that she would eventually be returned to Tombstone.   Claudine was terrified.
    “The suit is remarkable,” Donald agreed.
    “Jude will give you the solvent.   Use it sparingly and give it three days to see how pliable the material becomes.   It would be difficult to stiffen again, without adding another layer of latex,” Tombstone warned.
    Claudine’s eyes were all that could transmit her confusion.   Donald smiled at her.   “I love the rubber suit, but I’ve decided I want you to be able to move.   It’s become quite a chore to keep directing and manipulating your positions.”   He was pleased with the shine of appreciation in her eyes.   He turned to Tombstone.   “Thank you.   I know the contract states…”
    “You’ve been a good friend to me, Donald.   You were the one to purchase the land and help me set up.   Giving her to you allows me a small measure of repayment… considering you’re canceling the rest of my debt to you,” he added.
    The mannequins remained at the club for the night, with Jude scheduling their delivery back to various estates the next day.   When the last member left, Sabrina, Teresa, and Jude met Tombstone at the bar.   The three had discussed it at length, and Teresa was the one to speak up.   “I need you to design something special for a friend of mine.”   Teresa watched his eyes.
    Tombstone was intrigued.   He had no idea that his friends from the ally talked to anyone outside the clients at the club.   “Is it local?”
    “Jude and I are going to collect her,” Sabrina informed him.   The trio decided it would be better for him if he knew he had all of them supporting the decision.
    “Do I need to speak with the client?”
    “No,” Teresa replied.   “Her training and costume will be left to your discretion.   The client is from the West Coast, and he won’t want the mannequin returned there.”
    Tombstone was trying to figure out what she meant.   “He’s leaving her here?”
    Teresa reached out, took his hand, and she stared straight into his blue eyes.   “Tombstone, the client, is Jerald Fry.   The pickup is the daughter of the woman who killed his mother, and she desecrated Susanne’s headstone.   Felicity is angry because her mother died while she was in prison.”
    Tombstone’s face took on a nervously bewildered expression,