One Way or Another

Our heroine (if we can call her that), is in some serious trouble. It seems that what she told her partner was a business trip was actually a gambling junket to Las Vegas. She was very successful at the gaming tables there, and not just with their games of chance. A relationship, both passionate and illicit, was rapidly begun with one of her fellow gamblers, and it quickly blossomed in one of the casino's more special rooms.

However, the morning found our heroine's fellow gambler (who, oddly enough, was not a "fellow") alone in this room. Our heroine, her winnings, and a good deal of her fellow gambler's winnings had disappeared...but not without a trace. Our heroine's fellow gambler also managed the casino, and the special room they briefly shared had a very sophisticated system for discretely recording the goings-on in it. A disc with both the activities of that evening and the crimes of the early morning was sent to the emergency contact listed on our heroine's registration--that is, her partner.

This kind of behavior was nothing new to our heroine's partner, but she would tolerate it no longer. The partner had many skills, and much patience--two things that are vital to one who makes their own nitroglycerin and packs their own dynamite. A passionate homecoming disguised the partner's plans, and just the right ingredient added to our heroine's cocktail provided the opportunity to carry it out.

With our heroine now fitted with an explosive bra and gag, noosed, and precariously perched on a stool, her partner felt explanations unnecessary. Rather, she merely lit a cigarette and the fuse with the same match, kicked the stool away, and left our heroine hanging as the fuse angrily burned to its explosive ends. Satisfied that her erstwhile lover would meet her fate one way or the other, the murderous partner cooly walked to her car and drove off. Off to Vegas to meet her ex-partner's gambling companion. At a safe distance, she waited, and heard one blast, which rumbled for a moment afterward. As she drove off, a sly smile appeared on her face because not only had her dynamite worked, but her elaborate fuse work resulted in a simultaneous blast...

For Deruwyn

Here's a couple of rough sketches of Patty Van Dyke facing some interesting perils with dynamite.

Here is my most recent violation. Poor Chloe, always on the business end of the whip. I suppose that despite the violent nature of this depiction, that rope between her legs may be providing her more pleasure than is allowed. Some swift editing could change that, but in the meantime, Chloe is here for you.

A story about this pic is at http://www.thedarkspot.com/forum/showthread.php?t=970, just in case you want a little more depth.

Deleted Deviations

To begin, here are the pictures that were removed from deviantart.

Despite their banning there, these are still works-in-progress, except that "Probe" has resurfaced with dynamite replacing the phallus. Violence seems to be more acceptable than sex in general.