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Review This Story || Author: Doush

Bondage Club

Part 2 The Vendetta

THE VENDETTA

That was a little insensitive of me. Coming in on the middle of the "story" like
that was never going to make things easy to understand. But then, I'm not sure I
understand them, so maybe it's for the best. Either way, I apologise. But I had
to try and create a level of interest in this "story". Otherwise it may have
gone unnoticed - and then all my efforts will have been for naught.

Okay, now that little explanatory piece is out of the way with, maybe I can get
on with things. Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Victor Kendalli. Vic
for short. I'm 6 foot tall, a little under average weight, and have sandy-brown
hair. Maybe you know me - or someone exactly like me because I used to be your
everyday, run-of-the-mill, ordinary guy. I worked fifty-five hours a week in a
large downtown brokering firm, and fifteen hours of that was unpaid. I wasn't
very high up in the company, but I'm young and my immediate superiors told me
I'd have a bright future if "I played my cards right". In contrast, my lofty
superiors weren't even aware I existed. I lived in a one room studio apartment
in a reasonable part of town. "Reasonable" in this sense was defined as having
to dead bolt my doors at night, but not living in fear of being gunned down by a
stray bullet that was probably intended for the schmuck who'd "forgotten" to pay
his friendly, neighbourhood dealer.

That's me. For better or worse. I think you'll agree there's not much to harp
on. So why am I wasting my breath here?

Because I want to tell you all about Bondage Club. And to be quite honest - what
better place can there be for that than here, on this website? Maybe some of you
are members of The Club already. Maybe even now you're trying to find me. Using
all those ultra high tech procedures to track me back through my e-mail account,
or ISP number, or some fucking thing. To be honest, I don't give a shit.

If only because I'll be dead before the end of the week.

I know it, and if you're an influential member of The Club, you know it.

But I bet you didn't expect THIS. I mean, me posting my story to this site.
Maybe you thought I was going to go public - tell the whole world about The
Club. But I didn't see the point of that. I'd have been dismissed as another one
of those loony guys raving on about fanatical cults and white slavery rings and
abducted women. So I've opted for this method. Take my legacy to those people
who might actually believe what I'm saying. Or at least not dismiss it outright.
Write my tale into story form, here, on my lap-top as I skip from city to city,
trying to stay one step ahead of your "Angels". And then post it into the site
as access to a remote terminal permits. I just hope I'm not putting the site's
moderator in any danger.

And if just one of you readers can follow this up, can do a little digging in
the right place at the right time, then my work is done. Because that person
will tell one other trusted person in the field, and like a stack of dominos
toppling in succession, word will spread. Until, one day, everyone knows about
it, and with knowledge comes exposure. Which means the truth (or a fairly close
approximation of it) will come out. And the whole Bondage Club will fall.

Spectacularly.

Call it the "Bottoms-Up" approach to fucking The Club over. I am. It has a nice
ring to it. 

*****

The one thing I failed to mention about me in my little opening description, is
that I lived with my girlfriend. Her name was Susan Alissa. Pretty name, huh? I
thought so. In fact, I thought everything about her was fantastic. Until she got
caught up in The Club.

She was gorgeous. Long, dark hair, scintillating blue eyes, perfect white teeth.
Small, but well rounded breasts with the most perfect nipples I'd ever seen. And
an ass . . . God. Even now, I can feel it beneath my gently squeezing hands. Her
legs, too, were flawless. At least, they were from where I was often positioned.

You've probably noticed I'm using the past tense in describing her. That's on
purpose.

Because she's dead.

And it was The Club that killed her.

*****

More soon, if I can stay ahead of Them.



Review This Story || Author: Doush
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