Thanks very much, and thanks for the welcome back. Sorry about my absence.Pen Dreadful wrote: ↑1 month ago You're back!!
I'm so glad to see this story continued: it and your other one were some of my favorites. It's so much fun to see Andrea falling so head-over-heels in her helpless, submissive position. Hope to see even more soon.
Maria & Andrea: A Chance Beginning (F/F, Part 8 Added)
Part 8
Among its many other exciting qualities, I found that being bound radically altered my sense of space and time.
On one hand, Maria’s unyielding rope work shrank me into an intensely small, self-aware bundle of myself; minutes sometimes seemed like hours, and I had nothing but my bindings, feelings and reeling thoughts.
On the other hand, areas immediately around me, like the kitchen, seemed a galaxy away.
As Maria’s prisoner, I had to cross that galaxy.
Normally she held my arm to steady me as I hopped; now she wanted me to solo. With her urging voice ringing my ears, and her stern slap still stinging my rear end, I made a modest spring forward.
Impact…then fluctuating equilibrium…followed by the nascent fingers of gravity threatening to pull me down. Desperately wriggling, I strained all my muscles and pivoted my hips to regain my balance.
I felt Maria watching me in those anxious microseconds, and the cruel crush of her ropes reminded me that I was but a stoutly-corded, tottering column, denied the free range of my limbs for stability.
Somehow I managed to remain upright — then resumed my knees bent, forward-leaning, hopping position again. From somewhere behind me, Maria’s voice broke into my concentration.
“Oooo…you’re bouncy, Andie!” she enthused. “This promises to be quite a show!”
I stole another glance at our soft, gray reflection in the darkened TV screen. She was right.
There I was, thoroughly roped up, obediently bent over in front of the towering Maria. I couldn’t see her right hand, but her left held the loose bungee cords like a leash. My nubile breasts were dangling like ripe peaches, and my round-apple bottom was sticking out, as if inviting another hard smack.
Energized by this threat, I bravely sprang forward, deftly found my balance, resumed the position, and sprang again.
“Good…goooood,” Maria purred encouragingly as I closed the gap to the kitchen table. “That’s it…you’ve got it, my girl!”
Fear and anxious anticipation…then, determination…followed finally by exhilaration as I left the carpet behind and felt the stability of linoleum under me. With Maria rooting me on, my tied-up hop-hop had become an emotional journey as well.
Breathing hard through my nose, I stood by the table and flexed a little, allowing endorphins to appease my pained muscles. Mercifully Maria placed a chair behind me, cupped my shoulder and gently eased me into it.
Oh She of little mercy. I’d just scooched back and begun to relax when I felt Maria kneel behind me and snake the beige canvas belt over my arms and under my bosom — just like she’d done the previous Saturday.
But this time she pulled the belt hard, forcing me into the chairback, severely cinching it to fit its shiny brass buckle into its last matching holes.
Click! Click! Click! Came the torture rack-like sound of Maria belting me into the chair.
“Uh…uh…uh!” came my muzzled, grateful grunts with each cinch of the belt.
And all the while, Maria happily sang “Singin’ in the Bathtub” — but with her own, made-up lyrics:
For a second I imagined I’d fallen into the hands of a crazy woman. But blended with her other piquant endearments — like “my girl,” and “my Andie” — I even found that scary thought scintillating.
Held fast to the chairback by the belt, it now tightened as Maria grabbed the loose bungee cords, passed them under the chair, looped them around my ankle ligatures, pulled them taut and lashed them snugly around the chair rung.
She abruptly stood up and began to potter about the kitchen, and I quietly pondered my new predicament. Like before, my calves were pulled up at a 45-degree angle, with just my toes touching the floor.
But that and my chest restraint made me unsure of where I ended and the chair began. It was as if I was welded to the chair…at one with it. Maria had made us into a single, rigid fixture in the bright kitchen.
Comforted and reassured by these new sensations, I allowed myself to appreciate Maria as she gathered items from the drawers and refrigerator. There was sprightly bounce to her movements that lent extra feminine grace to her voluptuous body.
“Oh God…” I thought. “I’m ogling Maria…and it’s turning me on again.”
I reflexively wriggled my fingers and pinioned hands, opening and closing my palms. I yearned to grip Maria’s hips, and run my fingertips along her womanly curves. Immediately rerose the intense sense of my own suppleness — exposed, trussed and vulnerable to Maria’s designs, whatever they were.
Luckily, Maria strode over and resumed her agenda, banking my lust into glowing embers. Placing two Jello pudding cups and a plastic spoon on the table, she pulled a chair in front of me and sat down.
“Mom still stocks these,” she said, smiling and holding the vanilla-flavored one. “You haven’t eaten dinner, so I thought I’d better feed you.”
“That’s right,” I thought as Maria opened the pudding cups. And I hadn’t had a chance to check in with my own Mom either...and what about my job…?! I had to ask Maria about these things.
Holding both pudding cups in one hand, Maria roughly pulled the gag away from my jaws and cheeks and left it draped around my neck. Then she plucked the damp sock from my mouth and dropped it in my lap.
I’d no sooner licked my lips to speak my concerns when Maria, wielding a plastic spoonful of pudding, leaned forward and effectively muted me again.
“Hey Maria, I was wondering…gugh-glump!”
“That’s it, Andrea” Maria calmly said, quickly scooping up more pudding. “Eat up, we still have a lot to do.”
“Buh wha,” I tried to say through a mouthful. “Wuh abuh…grumph-mumph!”
On it went…my struggles to speak, repeatedly stymied by Maria’s relentless spoon-feeding. She was too fast for me…alternating between vanilla and chocolate, she held the spoon close to my lips and dipped it between them whenever I tried to talk.
“Num num num! Tastes good, right?” she asked with a broad grin. She obviously enjoyed what she was doing, and in between spoonfuls she began smearing pudding on my lips and around my mouth, tickling them into a new awareness.
I also couldn’t help but notice that the pudding flavors kind of resembled our relative skin tones…vanilla for Maria, chocolate for me. That, combined with the way Maria was sensuously frosting my mouth and lips, opened a whole new arena of sexuality in me: I now wanted to kiss Maria’s breasts, and more.
This fantasy was tantalizingly close, hovering on the very cusp of fulfillment. Maria could easily doff her tank top and bra, baring her chest. I envisioned her flipping the open pudding cups onto each of her breasts, and slowly rotating them so as to create perfect swirls of pudding that mimicked their shape, thus complementing their voluptuousness.
Or she could simply use her spoon to slowly coat her bosoms…a feast for my eyes that would tease me, just as she was teasing my lips and tongue right now.
I imagined myself relishing that ultimate dessert. Still helplessly engirded in Maria's bindings, I’d slowly lick her areolas, in smaller and smaller concentric circles, with the very tip of my tongue…finally arriving at the summits to suck and nibble her nipples.
As usual, my own nipples popped up wishfully…and, as usual, Maria didn’t seem to notice. She just kept on talking, allowing me to lick only the pudding she’d slathered around my own mouth.
“It’s funny how Mom still buys these pudding cups,” Maria said, scraping the remains out of the chocolate one. “She first got them for us to have during our sleepovers and study sessions…remember?”
Indeed I did. The evening felt just like those high school sleepovers and sessions; the memory of them added a wistful flavoring to my taut confinement.
I caught Maria gazing at me serenely as I dutifully opened wide for the last spoonful.
“I guess Mom misses you being around…” she said softly. “Like I do.”
I shut my eyes, her statement echoing in my mind. Oh, the sudden rush of my heart, blooming into a full-blown crush…hurting and heady, sweet and stinging at the same time…sweeter than the pudding in my mouth, and even sweeter than the teasing she used to feed the fires of my desire.
“But…I’ve got you back now, Andrea!” Maria exclaimed. She jumped up, hugged me fiercely and tossed the containers into the sink.
Consumed and embarrassed by my powerful whirlwind of emotions, I was silent as Maria jauntily jogged to the bathroom, returned with a small glass of green mouth wash, and held it to my lips.
“Here, swish this around your mouth and spit it out,” she said. I complied and Maria dumped that in the sink as well.
“You see, I have to muzzle you again,” she said, carefully stuffing the sock back into my mouth. “I’ve got some other things to set up, and I want you quiet.”
Scooting behind me, she re-secured the sock with the linen strip. She made it tight, and I welcomed its stern grip on my jaws, the press of its knot on the back of my neck. In addition to imposing these pleasing pains, her gag stopped me from pouring my heart out to Maria, and making a fool of myself.
Suddenly the chair creaked, and I found myself falling…slowly, slowly to my left and down, until all I could see was the legs of her chair. Recovering from my disorientation, I realized she’d tipped my chair and set me sideways on the floor.
A second later Maria’s feet appeared, then disappeared as she knelt close to my face and spoke.
“I apologize for this, but it’ll keep you out of trouble while I attend to other things,” she said with an evil smile. “Besides, it gives you a change of perspective, and caters to your growing taste for discomfort.”
Then she was up, moving around and using her phone to take pictures of me at several angles. Eventually she sat down, and even with my altered perspective, I could see she was playing around on her phone.
“There!” she said proudly, finally standing up. “This should keep you entertained!” With that, she took off her flats and used them to prop her phone against the leg of her chair — so that I couldn’t help but see its screen.
“I’ll be back, Andie!” Maria called out as she marched down the hall. “Meanwhile, enjoy the show.”
It was already appearing on the screen…a slideshow she’d created, using pictures of me all tied up. Again, I briefly flashed on the idea of Maria being a crazy woman. But I quickly fell to enjoying the images — and to rapturous gratitude that she’d created the show for me.
The first images were of the two of us during our first “kidnapping” tie-up session. Then came the pictures she’d just taken, of me chair-tied. I looked like a damsel in a detective story, who had toppled to the floor in a futile escape attempt.
Buried in among the recent photos was a short jerky video — of me, hopping into the kitchen! Maria had secretly filmed me; hadn’t she said, “this promises to be quite a show”?
Yes, I was the show…hopping, struggling, wiggling my hips for balance — and inadvertently twerking for Maria. Though shocked at first, I once again warmed to being the object of Maria’s sometimes secret attentions.
And though I was naked in the latest pictures, they weren’t salacious at all. Her photos accented my own smooth brown curves — and the lovely ridges of my skin bulging out between her intricate, ruthless bindings.
I felt very attractive…and sexy.
Moreover, she had taken some close-ups of my tied hands, and my calves — to include the soles of sneakers — lashed up snugly under the chair. And of course, my face…with my cheeks brimming slightly over the taut gag, my eyes wide open just above them, my neck craning up to see Maria and look straight at the camera.
Trapped sideways on the floor in my stringent chair-tie, I also had to crane my neck around to enjoy the photos as they were meant to be viewed. I presumed this to be just another hardship of the predicament Maria had bound me into.
The position had also made my bonds even firmer, increasing their delectable press upon my flesh. Maria was kind of right, again: I did have a taste for discomfort — but only when it was inflicted by her, I decided.
Remotely, I heard Maria fussing around in her room and the bathroom, humming to herself. She’d set the slideshow to repeat, so for my own enjoyment and out of loyalty to Maria, I naturally watched it again.
The second time through, I saw a narrative arc of my journey: from BFF tied up for fun, to naked submissive — helplessly, hungrily drinking in the sublime pains and joys of bondage meted out by a trusted friend.
Friend? Or lover? When would Maria return, when would our intimacy return? But chair-tied there on the floor, I couldn’t decide which I wanted more — sex or escalating levels of harsh restriction.
Sex…for all intents and purposes I was virgin, and highly inexperienced in this area. And despite my horniness and lustful visions of Maria, I didn’t know exactly how to consummate my passion for her.
Maria…she’d brought us very far, in a very short time. Something told me to take things naturally, that things would arrive in their good time…and to keep on enjoying the ride.
Time…oh my God, I thought, I’ve lost all track of it again. I’d been so distracted my Maria’s sexy and sadistic ministrations that I’d forgotten about calling my Mom, or having to work the next day.
Work…what about that? Would Maria keep me all night, and release me to go to my job at the pet store in the morning?
Or maybe she wouldn’t release me…she’d just leave me tied up naked to the pet shop door, for the strip mall pedestrians to stare at…or hogtied on the pavement, for my boss Karla to find.
Should I just ask her to release me? Would she release me if I asked?
As the bathroom door opened and Maria approached again, I realized that I hadn’t the nerve, or desire, to ask the first question…and that the second question’s answer would be an arousing, thrilling, heart-melting No.
Among its many other exciting qualities, I found that being bound radically altered my sense of space and time.
On one hand, Maria’s unyielding rope work shrank me into an intensely small, self-aware bundle of myself; minutes sometimes seemed like hours, and I had nothing but my bindings, feelings and reeling thoughts.
On the other hand, areas immediately around me, like the kitchen, seemed a galaxy away.
As Maria’s prisoner, I had to cross that galaxy.
Normally she held my arm to steady me as I hopped; now she wanted me to solo. With her urging voice ringing my ears, and her stern slap still stinging my rear end, I made a modest spring forward.
Impact…then fluctuating equilibrium…followed by the nascent fingers of gravity threatening to pull me down. Desperately wriggling, I strained all my muscles and pivoted my hips to regain my balance.
I felt Maria watching me in those anxious microseconds, and the cruel crush of her ropes reminded me that I was but a stoutly-corded, tottering column, denied the free range of my limbs for stability.
Somehow I managed to remain upright — then resumed my knees bent, forward-leaning, hopping position again. From somewhere behind me, Maria’s voice broke into my concentration.
“Oooo…you’re bouncy, Andie!” she enthused. “This promises to be quite a show!”
I stole another glance at our soft, gray reflection in the darkened TV screen. She was right.
There I was, thoroughly roped up, obediently bent over in front of the towering Maria. I couldn’t see her right hand, but her left held the loose bungee cords like a leash. My nubile breasts were dangling like ripe peaches, and my round-apple bottom was sticking out, as if inviting another hard smack.
Energized by this threat, I bravely sprang forward, deftly found my balance, resumed the position, and sprang again.
“Good…goooood,” Maria purred encouragingly as I closed the gap to the kitchen table. “That’s it…you’ve got it, my girl!”
Fear and anxious anticipation…then, determination…followed finally by exhilaration as I left the carpet behind and felt the stability of linoleum under me. With Maria rooting me on, my tied-up hop-hop had become an emotional journey as well.
Breathing hard through my nose, I stood by the table and flexed a little, allowing endorphins to appease my pained muscles. Mercifully Maria placed a chair behind me, cupped my shoulder and gently eased me into it.
Oh She of little mercy. I’d just scooched back and begun to relax when I felt Maria kneel behind me and snake the beige canvas belt over my arms and under my bosom — just like she’d done the previous Saturday.
But this time she pulled the belt hard, forcing me into the chairback, severely cinching it to fit its shiny brass buckle into its last matching holes.
Click! Click! Click! Came the torture rack-like sound of Maria belting me into the chair.
“Uh…uh…uh!” came my muzzled, grateful grunts with each cinch of the belt.
And all the while, Maria happily sang “Singin’ in the Bathtub” — but with her own, made-up lyrics:
“Tyin’ up my Andie,
La-dee dah-dee dahhh!
Binding her securely,
So she doesn’t get awayyy!”
La-dee dah-dee dahhh!
Binding her securely,
So she doesn’t get awayyy!”
For a second I imagined I’d fallen into the hands of a crazy woman. But blended with her other piquant endearments — like “my girl,” and “my Andie” — I even found that scary thought scintillating.
Held fast to the chairback by the belt, it now tightened as Maria grabbed the loose bungee cords, passed them under the chair, looped them around my ankle ligatures, pulled them taut and lashed them snugly around the chair rung.
She abruptly stood up and began to potter about the kitchen, and I quietly pondered my new predicament. Like before, my calves were pulled up at a 45-degree angle, with just my toes touching the floor.
But that and my chest restraint made me unsure of where I ended and the chair began. It was as if I was welded to the chair…at one with it. Maria had made us into a single, rigid fixture in the bright kitchen.
Comforted and reassured by these new sensations, I allowed myself to appreciate Maria as she gathered items from the drawers and refrigerator. There was sprightly bounce to her movements that lent extra feminine grace to her voluptuous body.
“Oh God…” I thought. “I’m ogling Maria…and it’s turning me on again.”
I reflexively wriggled my fingers and pinioned hands, opening and closing my palms. I yearned to grip Maria’s hips, and run my fingertips along her womanly curves. Immediately rerose the intense sense of my own suppleness — exposed, trussed and vulnerable to Maria’s designs, whatever they were.
Luckily, Maria strode over and resumed her agenda, banking my lust into glowing embers. Placing two Jello pudding cups and a plastic spoon on the table, she pulled a chair in front of me and sat down.
“Mom still stocks these,” she said, smiling and holding the vanilla-flavored one. “You haven’t eaten dinner, so I thought I’d better feed you.”
“That’s right,” I thought as Maria opened the pudding cups. And I hadn’t had a chance to check in with my own Mom either...and what about my job…?! I had to ask Maria about these things.
Holding both pudding cups in one hand, Maria roughly pulled the gag away from my jaws and cheeks and left it draped around my neck. Then she plucked the damp sock from my mouth and dropped it in my lap.
I’d no sooner licked my lips to speak my concerns when Maria, wielding a plastic spoonful of pudding, leaned forward and effectively muted me again.
“Hey Maria, I was wondering…gugh-glump!”
“That’s it, Andrea” Maria calmly said, quickly scooping up more pudding. “Eat up, we still have a lot to do.”
“Buh wha,” I tried to say through a mouthful. “Wuh abuh…grumph-mumph!”
On it went…my struggles to speak, repeatedly stymied by Maria’s relentless spoon-feeding. She was too fast for me…alternating between vanilla and chocolate, she held the spoon close to my lips and dipped it between them whenever I tried to talk.
“Num num num! Tastes good, right?” she asked with a broad grin. She obviously enjoyed what she was doing, and in between spoonfuls she began smearing pudding on my lips and around my mouth, tickling them into a new awareness.
I also couldn’t help but notice that the pudding flavors kind of resembled our relative skin tones…vanilla for Maria, chocolate for me. That, combined with the way Maria was sensuously frosting my mouth and lips, opened a whole new arena of sexuality in me: I now wanted to kiss Maria’s breasts, and more.
This fantasy was tantalizingly close, hovering on the very cusp of fulfillment. Maria could easily doff her tank top and bra, baring her chest. I envisioned her flipping the open pudding cups onto each of her breasts, and slowly rotating them so as to create perfect swirls of pudding that mimicked their shape, thus complementing their voluptuousness.
Or she could simply use her spoon to slowly coat her bosoms…a feast for my eyes that would tease me, just as she was teasing my lips and tongue right now.
I imagined myself relishing that ultimate dessert. Still helplessly engirded in Maria's bindings, I’d slowly lick her areolas, in smaller and smaller concentric circles, with the very tip of my tongue…finally arriving at the summits to suck and nibble her nipples.
As usual, my own nipples popped up wishfully…and, as usual, Maria didn’t seem to notice. She just kept on talking, allowing me to lick only the pudding she’d slathered around my own mouth.
“It’s funny how Mom still buys these pudding cups,” Maria said, scraping the remains out of the chocolate one. “She first got them for us to have during our sleepovers and study sessions…remember?”
Indeed I did. The evening felt just like those high school sleepovers and sessions; the memory of them added a wistful flavoring to my taut confinement.
I caught Maria gazing at me serenely as I dutifully opened wide for the last spoonful.
“I guess Mom misses you being around…” she said softly. “Like I do.”
I shut my eyes, her statement echoing in my mind. Oh, the sudden rush of my heart, blooming into a full-blown crush…hurting and heady, sweet and stinging at the same time…sweeter than the pudding in my mouth, and even sweeter than the teasing she used to feed the fires of my desire.
“But…I’ve got you back now, Andrea!” Maria exclaimed. She jumped up, hugged me fiercely and tossed the containers into the sink.
Consumed and embarrassed by my powerful whirlwind of emotions, I was silent as Maria jauntily jogged to the bathroom, returned with a small glass of green mouth wash, and held it to my lips.
“Here, swish this around your mouth and spit it out,” she said. I complied and Maria dumped that in the sink as well.
“You see, I have to muzzle you again,” she said, carefully stuffing the sock back into my mouth. “I’ve got some other things to set up, and I want you quiet.”
Scooting behind me, she re-secured the sock with the linen strip. She made it tight, and I welcomed its stern grip on my jaws, the press of its knot on the back of my neck. In addition to imposing these pleasing pains, her gag stopped me from pouring my heart out to Maria, and making a fool of myself.
Suddenly the chair creaked, and I found myself falling…slowly, slowly to my left and down, until all I could see was the legs of her chair. Recovering from my disorientation, I realized she’d tipped my chair and set me sideways on the floor.
A second later Maria’s feet appeared, then disappeared as she knelt close to my face and spoke.
“I apologize for this, but it’ll keep you out of trouble while I attend to other things,” she said with an evil smile. “Besides, it gives you a change of perspective, and caters to your growing taste for discomfort.”
Then she was up, moving around and using her phone to take pictures of me at several angles. Eventually she sat down, and even with my altered perspective, I could see she was playing around on her phone.
“There!” she said proudly, finally standing up. “This should keep you entertained!” With that, she took off her flats and used them to prop her phone against the leg of her chair — so that I couldn’t help but see its screen.
“I’ll be back, Andie!” Maria called out as she marched down the hall. “Meanwhile, enjoy the show.”
It was already appearing on the screen…a slideshow she’d created, using pictures of me all tied up. Again, I briefly flashed on the idea of Maria being a crazy woman. But I quickly fell to enjoying the images — and to rapturous gratitude that she’d created the show for me.
The first images were of the two of us during our first “kidnapping” tie-up session. Then came the pictures she’d just taken, of me chair-tied. I looked like a damsel in a detective story, who had toppled to the floor in a futile escape attempt.
Buried in among the recent photos was a short jerky video — of me, hopping into the kitchen! Maria had secretly filmed me; hadn’t she said, “this promises to be quite a show”?
Yes, I was the show…hopping, struggling, wiggling my hips for balance — and inadvertently twerking for Maria. Though shocked at first, I once again warmed to being the object of Maria’s sometimes secret attentions.
And though I was naked in the latest pictures, they weren’t salacious at all. Her photos accented my own smooth brown curves — and the lovely ridges of my skin bulging out between her intricate, ruthless bindings.
I felt very attractive…and sexy.
Moreover, she had taken some close-ups of my tied hands, and my calves — to include the soles of sneakers — lashed up snugly under the chair. And of course, my face…with my cheeks brimming slightly over the taut gag, my eyes wide open just above them, my neck craning up to see Maria and look straight at the camera.
Trapped sideways on the floor in my stringent chair-tie, I also had to crane my neck around to enjoy the photos as they were meant to be viewed. I presumed this to be just another hardship of the predicament Maria had bound me into.
The position had also made my bonds even firmer, increasing their delectable press upon my flesh. Maria was kind of right, again: I did have a taste for discomfort — but only when it was inflicted by her, I decided.
Remotely, I heard Maria fussing around in her room and the bathroom, humming to herself. She’d set the slideshow to repeat, so for my own enjoyment and out of loyalty to Maria, I naturally watched it again.
The second time through, I saw a narrative arc of my journey: from BFF tied up for fun, to naked submissive — helplessly, hungrily drinking in the sublime pains and joys of bondage meted out by a trusted friend.
Friend? Or lover? When would Maria return, when would our intimacy return? But chair-tied there on the floor, I couldn’t decide which I wanted more — sex or escalating levels of harsh restriction.
Sex…for all intents and purposes I was virgin, and highly inexperienced in this area. And despite my horniness and lustful visions of Maria, I didn’t know exactly how to consummate my passion for her.
Maria…she’d brought us very far, in a very short time. Something told me to take things naturally, that things would arrive in their good time…and to keep on enjoying the ride.
Time…oh my God, I thought, I’ve lost all track of it again. I’d been so distracted my Maria’s sexy and sadistic ministrations that I’d forgotten about calling my Mom, or having to work the next day.
Work…what about that? Would Maria keep me all night, and release me to go to my job at the pet store in the morning?
Or maybe she wouldn’t release me…she’d just leave me tied up naked to the pet shop door, for the strip mall pedestrians to stare at…or hogtied on the pavement, for my boss Karla to find.
Should I just ask her to release me? Would she release me if I asked?
As the bathroom door opened and Maria approached again, I realized that I hadn’t the nerve, or desire, to ask the first question…and that the second question’s answer would be an arousing, thrilling, heart-melting No.
Last edited by Proteus75 1 week ago, edited 3 times in total.
I must admit i wondered just how i missed this great story. Then i clocked that you had started it about 2 years ago, and only just 'revived' it. Thank goodness you did, it's allowed me to catch up with it. Which it has been a pleasure to have done so.
Thank you very much! Standby for more…
-
FabianStr2016
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 206
- Joined: 6 years ago
What a great continuation! Honestly, one of the best stories here atm, I really hope you’ll continue soon and for a while 
Thanks again! To be continued...FabianStr2016 wrote: ↑3 weeks ago What a great continuation! Honestly, one of the best stories here atm, I really hope you’ll continue soon and for a while