Memoirs of Peter S aged 14 and 3/4 m/f+ (Part 7 added)

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Memoirs of Peter S aged 14 and 3/4 m/f+ (Part 7 added)

Post by Bandit666 »

Hello everyone this is an idea that’s kind of bounced around in my head for a while but only came to the front following a few messages share between myself and another site member. It is of course a work of fiction, however the main female characters are based on more mature real life bondage models Sandra Silvers, Jackie Christianson, Chrissy Marie and JJ Plush. There will of course be no sexual content due to the age of the main male character who’s point of view will be used to tell the tale. A tale that’s designed to study the possible thoughts and actions of a young man that discovers his mother and several of her friends make extra money by both starting in and or running bondage related websites. Naturally, as always I hope you will enjoy my work and that I can do my original idea justice. Just like I hope you’ll leave your comments and thoughts as I go along.........

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Part one

I guess you could say my journey into a world I had once known nothing about, that I never knew existed, all began just after I turned 14, just after I’d celebrated becoming a year older, if not a year wiser. I guess you could say my journey began on a chilly afternoon in October, began on a chilly Wednesday afternoon in October. School had, for once finished early, had finished early thanks, to one of the more troublesome boys, had finished earlier thanks to his need to course trouble, had finished earlier thanks to him triggering the fire alarm. Like all the others, like all my friends I hadn’t complained, like all the others, like all my friends I’d taken full advantage, had rushed home, rushed home intent of catching up with the previous nights episode of Game of Thrones, intent on taking advantage of being home alone. Yet that wasn’t to be, that wasn’t to happen, for as I turned onto our drive, as I looked up, as I looked ahead of me, I noticed my moms car, noticed parked along side my dads car. At first I was naturally disappointed, was saddened to think my plans would be dragged down, would be put on hold. But not because my parents were home, well not exactly because my parents were at home, rather because of what I found as I stepped inside, as I dumped my school bag, as I looked into the living room. For that was where my world would change, where it would take an unexpected twist, where I’d make a discovery I never expected.

It was a discovery that struck me the second I turned the corner, the second I entered the living room, for there before me sat my mom, sat the woman I'd soon discover many people knew as Sandra, for there for before me she sat tightly bound and gagged, my mom was trussed up like some kind of damsel in the movies, only tighter, only this was for real. Her ankles and calves were bound to the chairs hard wooden legs by brilliant white ropes, white ropes that contrasted perfectly with the black shear pantyhose she wore. Her tight black skirt, a skirt I’d seen her wear so often before, was hitched up, hitched up high enough to flash the red panties she wore under her pantyhose. Her waist was being squeezed, squeezed tightly by yet another white rope, a white rope that once more contrasted with the material beneath, contrasted with the bright red satin blouse I’d never seen before. Another white rope ran just below my moms very ample breasts, again contrasting with the bright red blouse. The top three buttons had been left undone had been left in such a way as it ensure her cleavage was clearly seen, the top of her red bra too. Her wrists were very clearly behind her back, were very clearly bound tightly together by even more white rope, the blouse only just offering a little protection. Her mouth was packed, packed by a strange looking red ball, her lips, coated with bright red lipstick, were wrapped around it best they could, thin black straps ran off behind her head, disappeared under her hair. My mom was truly helpless, my mom could clearly see the confusion and fear in my eyes, my mom could only make gargled mmmppphhhs as she tried to get my dads attention, as she tried to tell him I was here.

At first my dad appeared to be oblivious to my presence, appeared to be oblivious to what my mom was trying to say, what she was trying to indicate. His focus seemed to be on the photographs he was taking, his focus seemed to be on his movements, his focus seemed to be on avoiding the video cameras perched on their tripods. He was moving from side to side, was standing and kneeling, was catching my moms helplessness from every angle imaginable, and I few I would never have thought of. He seemed to zooming into her face, seemed to be taking shots as a little drool slipped past that strange ball in my moms mouth, he seemed to be zooming out to get shots of her gagged mouth and ample cleavage. He seemed to be ensuring her got shots that allowed a glimpse up her skirt, he seemed to be ensuring he captured her helplessness and embarrassment over and over again. At first he seemed to think my mom was acting up for the video cameras, was playing the role of helpless damsel to the hilt, at first he seemed to think everything was normal, that they were alone to do as they wished, and then suddenly that changed. Suddenly he realised what my mom was trying to say, suddenly it dawned on him, they weren’t alone, that I was standing in the doorway. Suddenly he spun around and faced me, spun around and looked me squarely in the eyes, spun around with shock written all over his face. He didn’t seeem to be mad at me, didn’t seem to be upset with me, instead he seemed to be dumbfounded, seemed to be unable to find the words to utter, to explain what was going on.

Well I’m sure I stuttered out my apologies, I’m sure I looked at the floor in embarrassment, I’m sure I blurted out how I’d be in my bedroom, blurted it out as I made a dash for the stairs. Stairs I took two at a time, stairs I’d never ran up so fast in my life, stairs that seemed longer and steeper than ever before. Even as I ran to my room, as I closed the door behind me, as I jumped on my bed, my mind was racing, was full of questions, was full of uncertainty, was full of confusion. Had I really just seen my mom tied up and gagged, had I really just seen my dad taking pictures of her, was it all real or just imagined, I didn’t have an answer. Just like I didn’t have an answer as to why, if it was real, were my parents doing such things, why would my mom let it happen to her? Was my dad mad at her, had she done something wrong, something terrible? Were they planning on getting divorced, was my dad planning on hurting my mom? What should I do, should I run back downstairs? Should I leap to my moms defence? Why did she seem to be having fun, why did she seem to be happy and enjoying it? God I was so confused, so shocked.

For the next 15 - 20 minutes I sat there, there on my bed, in silence, in uncertainty, in fear, not fear of being shouted at by my mom and dad, though that might have been more reassuring if I’m honest, not fear of being punished, though even that might have been more reassuring. No it was the fear of not knowing, it was the fear of not understanding, it was the fear of simply not knowing. For the next 15 - 20 minutes I sat there, there on my bed, in silence as I heard the movement downstairs, as I heard the faint muttering between my mom and dad, as I heard what I guessed, to be them packing up the cameras, packing up the tripods, as I heard what I guessed was my dad releasing my mom. Every minute seemed like an hour, every minute seemed to drag past, every minute left me on edge. Finally I heard the footsteps approaching, heard them coming up the stairs, there was only one set, there was only my moms, I’d learnt to tell the difference, learnt to know who was moving around. My mom always walked softly, always made such little sound, my dad always seemed to make more noise, always seemed to walk with a purpose, always seemed to walk quicker. Finally I heard the footsteps approaching my bedroom door, heard them faintly approach down the hallway, finally I heard the long awaited knock on my bedroom door. Finally I heard my moms gentle knock on the door, finally I heard her quietly ask if she could come in, if she could explain what I’d just seen, what had just happened, what happened between her and my dad.

No doubt there was a noticeable trembling to my voice, no doubt my mom could detect my concern, my worries, no doubt she probably felt the same. No doubt she wondered what the next few minutes, the next hour or so would bring. No doubt she wondered what emotions would come about, no doubt she wondered if I’d understand what she was about to tell me, was about to explain to me, and yet still she slowly opened the door, still she slowly stepped inside, closing it behind her. She hadn’t changed her clothes, hadn’t altered her appearance, well save for the ropes and ball that gagged her. She’d remained in her red satin blouse, had left the top three buttons undone, she’d remained in her tight black skirt, she had pulled it down to a more respectful mid thigh length, she had remained in her shear pantyhose.

Carefully mom sat on the end of my bed, quietly she spoke, reassuringly she told me I wasn’t in any trouble, reassuringly she told me how sorry they both were that I’d seen her like that, reassuringly she told me there was nothing wrong, that she was still very much in love with my dad, that I should get any thoughts otherwise out of my head. She told me they’d known one day I’d find out, find out what they did when I was at school, find out what they did at least a couple of days a week. She told me how they’d always known that the time would come when I needed an explanation, when I’d need to understand where the money came from for our holidays, came from towards my college fund, where the money came from for the finer things in life. She told me it wasn’t meant to be like this, told me I was never meant to return to see such things, to see her all trussed up like that. Again she told me how sorry they both were for I saw, again she told me she’d explain everything. It was clear to see that mom struggled to get to the point, to get it out there in the open, it was clear even to a 14 year old me, that I would have to be patient and till she was ready. But eventually she opened up, eventually she got to the point, eventually she admitted that she loved bondage, that she loved being bound and gagged by my dad, eventually she admitted that they made money by selling the photographs and videos I’d seen been taken. Eventually she admitted that, along with my dad, they ran a bondage website, ran a website that specialised in showing scenes of her trussed up and gagged, specialised in showing videos of her struggling and wriggling.

Slowly, after a brief pause, a pause designed to give me a chance to absorb what she’d just said, mom continued, continued by explaining how it was all above board and nothing illegal took place. Slowly she explained how nothing sexual was ever seen, unless by request, unless it was deemed acceptable by both herself and my dad. Slowly she explained how such scenes were handled with great care, slowly she explained how such scenes were kept locked, accessible by only those with permission, slowly she explained how the site catered for over 18’s only. Slowly she went on about how well it paid,slowly she went on about her feelings, her feelings when trussed up, her feelings for my dad, her feelings about how I’d found out about it all. After a while she stopped, after a while she stopped and looked at me with both love and concern in her eyes, after a while she stood and told me she’d said enough for now. After a while she stood and explained how she needed to shower and change, explained how she had to give me time to think, to decide what I thought, what I wanted to happen now, explained that we’d have a pizza night, explained how she’d be waiting with my dad downstairs when I was ready.

Warmly my mom smiled as she turned and left my bedroom, quietly she closed the door behind her, quietly I heard her walk towards their bedroom, quietly I heard her close the door behind her. It was, still such a shock, it was, still such a huge thing to absorb, it was, still confusing. But not as much as it had been an hour or so earlier, not as much as it had been when I turned the corner that first time, not as much as it had been when I first saw my mom tied to that chair, not as much as it had been when seeing my dad shooting the photographs. With a deep breath, with a deep sigh I slipped of my bed, with a deep sigh I headed downstairs, with a deep sigh I headed off to find my dad, headed off to speak to him about what I’d seen, what my mom had said, what he thought should happen now, should happen in the future............


So there you go, I hope you like the first part of my little tale, I hope you’ll let me know your thoughts, I hope you’ll let me know your comments

Bandit666
Last edited by Bandit666 4 years ago, edited 7 times in total.
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Post by Caesar73 »

I like the basic idea of this story very much! A Teenager discovering something new about his Mum! Besides Sandra Silvers being one of my favourite Models! I think, you described Peters Thoughts and Emotions very well ;) The description of Sandra Silvers in Bondage is very good! Would like to read some more of Peters Memories! In short: Well done! And: Go on :D
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Post by Bandit666 »

Thank you very much for the review it’s great to know I’ve achieved what I was aiming for so far. I do intend to see this story through to it’s conclusion over the next few weeks and look forward to further comments like this.

Thanks again Caesar73
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Post by Deleted User 1665 »

This is very well done! Looking forward to what's next :D
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Post by Veracity »

Thanks for posting. Don't forget to gender tag your stories in the topic line.
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Post by Bandit666 »

Thank you for the comments :)

And sorry I thought it was enough to put that in the tags box now, I’ll adjust it right now
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Post by Miyuki »

great story so far, love the describtion of her tiedup and gagged... her struggling,
and best of all her thoughts of bondage.

I would have been a horror scenario if i find my parents in bondage :D
poor Peter
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Post by Miyuki »

Edit: sorry for double post
Last edited by Miyuki 5 years ago, edited 2 times in total.
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Post by Bandit666 »

Thank you so much for your kind comments, I hope to show over the coming parts how he handled it all and how, well I’ll not say too much don’t want to spoil it before it’s truly started :)
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Post by gagged86 »

As always a great job, my friend, so well written :)
And in this particular case, with the description of love for bondage, and the feelings of the discovery of such a particular passion, it really touches the right spots and I hope that many kids starting to feel these feelings, like I'm sure all of us on this site has been, might read this story and find comfort from it :)
And, of course, I can't wait to read the next chapters :)
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Post by Bandit666 »

Thank you my friend, your comments are always welcome and kind :)

And have no fear part two is well underway even as I type this :)
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Post by Caesar73 »

Good news! I'm looking forward to Part 2! :)
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Post by Emma »

This is really very good!

It's believable, not creepy, and gives an opening for discussions that could be uncomfortable.
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Post by Bandit666 »

Thank you Emma, that’s what I was truly aiming for and I am hoping to keep that style throughout the remaining parts, as Peter learns more about the world of bondage, as he learns more about what his parents do, as he discovers other he knows are involved and of course as he explores his emotions and slow becomes involved in it all himself :)
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Post by Caesar73 »

It will be interessting - seeing Petes Development, I mean :D
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Post by Bandit666 »

Thanks Caeser73, part twos almost ready to post now
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Post by Bandit666 »

Part two

Well, for the few minutes I sat, sat in silence, trying to absorb all my moms words, trying to understand just what she’d told me. She’d been so quietly, so warmly, so caringly, she’d spoken so softly, so gently, so calmly, she’d done her best to explain what I’d walked in and seen, done her best to explain what was happening when I walked in, done her best to reassured me everything was ok, that she was still very much in love with my dad. But, despite her words I was still confused, confused by some of the thoughts that ran through my mind, confused by how I’d felt seeing my mom tied tightly to that chair, confused by my thoughts about others seeing her tied to that chair. Though please don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t even remotely aroused by the sight, that would be just, well just wrong, yet I liked what I saw, even if I shouldn’t admit it, I like the sight of my mom tied up like a damsel in distress, I like seeing the actresses on tv and in the movies tied up. It had left me thinking of how much I liked to see women tied and gagged. I started to wonder if there was something wrong with me, started to wonder if I was weird. I started to think all the more about others looking at my mom like, started to wonder if they found it arousing, where I didn’t, started to wonder if they liked to see helpless women, started to wonder if they were weird. I started to wonder how they got to see my mom like that, started to wonder how my parents made money this way, started to wonder all the more about the words my mom said to me.

I’d been shocked to see my mom tied so tightly to that chair, I’d been so shocked to see my dad moving around taking photograph after photograph of her like that, I’d been shocked to hear they ran a bondage website, I’d been left wondering just what a bondage website was. My mom told me it was perfectly legal, that they weren’t breaking the law, that there was nothing sexual involved, or at least not on the site anyway, and yet she told me the site catered for over 18’s only. She’d told me only those that paid could see her images, the images of her bound and gagged, only those that paid could watch the videos of her struggling, could watch the videos of her bound and gagged. But even that confused me, who are the people that pay for that, who are these people that want to watch such things, why did I want to watch such things. Part of me so wanted to find my dad, part of me so wanted to hear what he had to say, part of me so wanted his reassurance, to understand what I was feeling. Yet the other part of me didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see him, simply wanted it to all just go away, simply wanted to suppress my own feelings, simply wanted to act like nothing had happened, that I hadn’t seen what I had.

But then, even with those thoughts running through my mind, even with the confusion running through my mind, even with my emotions running away with me, I found myself slowly getting off my bed, found myself heading out of my bedroom, found myself heading downstairs. As I’d walked along the hallway, as I’d paused on the landing, as I’d taken a deep breath before walking downstairs, before seeking out my dad, I’d heard the shower running, had been aware of the fact my mom was indeed freshening up, as she put it, had been aware that it would be just me and my dad. Somehow I knew exactly where he’d be, knew he’d been in his little study, would be working on his computer, but now, now I knew why he spent so much time there, now I knew why I’d always had to knock before entering, or at least I though I did, now I knew what he did on his computer, or at least I thought I did, and as it turned out I did. Quietly, I knocked on the study’s door, faintly I asked if I could enter, timidity I opened the study door, opened it to find my dad facing me, opened it to find him sat in front of his computer, opened it to find he’d made no attempt to shut down the screen. Something that was new to me, that had never happened before, that allowed me to see some of the pictures he’d just taken of my mom. The screen was spilt into two, showed two separate images of my mom, my helpless mom, the one to the left showed a close up of her face, showed her lips wrapped around that strange looking large pink ball, showed the thin black leather straps wrapped around her head, showed them digging it her soft cheeks. The to the right showed her fully helpless, showed her face, showed her tightly bound body, showed her legs, showed them forced open, showed her legs, showed straight up her skirt, showed her panties through the shear black nylons.

I must have stood there for a minute or two, stood there in silence, stood there looking at the images, looking at my dad, looking at him wondering what to say, wondering if I should speak or leave, wondering what it was I wanted to really know, wondering if I should blurt out how I felt. But in the end, it was my dad that spoke first, that, as he always did when he felt something important needed to be said, need to be stated, started his inevitable opening sentence with, “well son it looks like it’s time we spoke, don't you think”. It was my dad that told me to sit down, that told me he knew my mom had spoken to me, had reassured me I wasn’t in trouble, and that I wasn’t. It was my dad that told me he knew this day would come, that told me, just as my mom had done less than 10 minutes earlier, it wasn’t meant to be like this, told me it was time I knew the truth, told me he could see the look in my eyes, told me he knew I liked seeing my mom like that, that he’d seen the way I perked up when seeing actresses bound and gagged on the tv, or in the movies. It was my dad that admitted he’d been the same at my age, that admitted the sight of a beautiful woman looking so helpless got to him as well, it was my dad that admitted seeing my mom like that got him aroused, got him excited. Yet, I kind of wished he hadn’t gone that far, for while I knew what he was saying, I knew he was right about the scenes of helpless actresses, for they did get my attention, did indeed get to me, as had seeing my mom all trussed up like a scene out of the movies, I wished he’d kept the last bit to himself. After all, uuuugggg, who really wants to know that about their parents, after all, don’t most of us think we came about through immaculate conception, after all don’t most of us think our parents don’t have sex, after all don’t most of us screw up our faces when they even share a kiss.

Just like my mom had done before hand, he too paused, paused as if waiting to hear my response, a response that didn’t come, that wouldn’t seem to make its way from my brain to my mouth, a response that I wanted to make but simply couldn’t. For a minute or two we sat face to face in an uncomfortable silence, for a minute or two I looked from my dad to the images of my bound and gagged mom, for a minute or two my brain screamed just speak you prat. But once more it was my dad that spoke first, that began a more in-depth explanation of how it all started, that began by explaining how they’d played bondage games for many years, that they’d played bondage games since before they got married, since before I was born. It was my dad that explained it was fully consensual, that my mom was a willing partner, as it should always be, it was my dad that explained the website had been my moms idea, that it was her willingness to be involved that got it all up and running. He explained how it came about when my mom lost her job, when money was right, when I was only a baby. It was my dad that shocked me once more when he explained they worked with others, worked with others I knew well, that had also always kept it hidden from me. It was my dad that explained the feelings I had, that told me it was ok to like seeing my mom like that, that told me it was ok to feel excited by what I saw, whether with my mom or other. It was my dad that explained it wasn’t weird, or something to be ashamed off, that is more common than I’d think. It was my dad that moved over to the computer, that switched over to another screen, that showed me the numbers of subscribers, of members the site had. It was my dad that showed me how currently the monthly subscribers totalled over 15’000, that the yearly paid up members was nearly double that. It was my dad that selected just one photo set, one photo set of my mom to show the number of paid viewings.

I was left amazed by his words, by his openness, by his caring, by his reassurance, but most of all I was surprised by the number of people involved, by the number of people who pay to see my mom all trussed up and gagged. I was left stunned by the money involved, even if he didn’t go into a lot of detail, I was left stunned to know it wasn’t just my mom, that I’d know some of the others they worked with, that were featured on the site. I was left shocked at the photo set he opened supposedly at random. But not because my mom was naked or anything, because she wasnt, not because my mom was bound and gagged, that was expected, not that it was in anyway inappropriate, for it wasn’t, not even because on the fact it had been seen 22’000 times in less than a month, not even because I’d already figured out the fact that meant 4 times as much in monetary benifits. No it was because of how good my mom looked, it was because of how beautiful she looked, how much fun she seemed to be having.

The first picture showed her standing in our wet room, showed her wearing a shimmering navy blue one piece swimsuit, the same swimsuit she wears on our trips to the local pool, it showed her smiling, it showed her acting as if she was in the swimming pools changing room. The next showed her looking shocked, in a really cheesy way, shower her with her hands raised above her head, as if she was being held at gun point. The following 4 or 5 showed her kneeling with her hand on her head, showed her like that from umpteen different angles. It was only after about 10 images that the binding, that the gagging started. This time there was no rope, no odd looking ball with straps for her mouth, this time there was only tape, broard silver tape like my had kept in the garage, tape I’d seen advertised, tape I knew as duct tape. Tape that the next couple of dozen images showed being applied, the first few showed it wrapped around her wrists from different ankles, wrists that were behind her back, something that seemed to be an almost constant theme. A few more showed it wrapped around her waist, showed it trapping her wrists to her body, again from different angles. The next few showed it pulled right below my moms rather ample breasts, breasts I’m sure these subscribers hoped to see more of, that I'm sure are the reason why my friends have a crush on her. They were quite possibly the images I didn’t like so much, didn’t as the tape pulled down her swimsuit, pulled it down revealing a little too much of her cleavage for my liking, after all she’s my mom. While those to follow showed her legs being bound ever more, around the ankles, around her calves, around her thighs, just below her curvy round butt. Soon enough it moved onto my mom being gagged, moved on to showing the tape wrapped around her head, showing her mouth being sealed completely.

It turned out that the photo set, the incredibly popular photo set held a total of 100 images of my mom, held 100 images of my mom slowly becoming a damsel in distress, 100 images of my mom being rendered helpless, images of my mom struggling and wriggling trying to free herself. I can’t lie, I liked what I saw, loved how my mom looked, loved how tastefully my dad had taken the shots, still wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of others seeing her in such a way. I can’t lie I wanted to know more, wanted to ask more, wanted to understand more, but sadly before I could ask, ask my dad, I saw my mom in the doorway, heard her ask if she should order the pizzas, ask if maybe we should continue this after we’ve eaten, ask if was should all sit down together and talk some more, after dinner. It seemed the decision had pretty much been made, it seemed I would have to wait a little longer to find out more, to discover more, to understand more, and sadly so will you, as now I have my chores to do, have to leave you waiting to see what happened next.
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Post by Caesar73 »

You described Peters feelings very well, his confusion, trying to comprehend and coming to terms with his discoveries! Well done!
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Post by Bandit666 »

Thank you Caesar73 I was hoping it would come out like that and would prove to still be an enjoyable read.

Part three is currently being worked out in my mind but I hope it won’t be too long before it’s underway
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Post by Emma »

I have to agree with [mention]Caesar73[/mention] , you really gave insight to Peter's feelings, digesting what he saw, accepting it, and accepting his own feelings. Very good writing!
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Post by Bandit666 »

Thank you very much for you kind words and support in my efforts to keep it going on track and in the right direction. It’s truly appreciated :)
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Post by gagged86 »

Another great story, my friend :)
I really like how this chapter goes even deeper inside Peter's thoughts :)
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Post by Bandit666 »

Thank you my friend, it’s good to know it’s working as planned so far :)

Part three is underway right now so hopefully it’ll be posted soon :)
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Post by Bandit666 »

Update on progress, thank you all for your comments and support, the good news is that part 3 should be posted soon and that part four is already under way :)
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Post by Caesar73 »

That's music to my ears :) :)
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