It was his job. He was a 'test pilot' for all the kinky shit he made and designed. He made the bondage equipment for all the clubs in New York, and in...Philly. Hell, both Hellfire, and Paddles had his name written by the payphone offering his services like he was a prostitute. But it worked, most days he received a package in the mail with some leather item needing fixing or replacing. Best of all, it was completely below the radar, completely in the black.Mick watched the slave, remembering the. I love you, and I am SO sorry!” she signed it with her T and slowly, quietly stepped outside, into the twilight of the fading day.The street was relatively quiet, most people having either gone out for the evening, or simply staying in. The weather was nice, with little breeze, making every footfall of her stiletto heels click and clack on the tidy sidewalk easily recognized. It was a typical suburban neighborhood, white picket fences, some back yards hedged by a row of trees, and some not,. More

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