Linda scanned the stacks again, sorting the books and clothes and electronica to their order list, and making sure each pile matched its new owner.  Later, she would fill them into prepaid postage boxes and envelopes, and bring the load to the post office.  The home business of mail order resale was getting busier with the autumn.  There were the last rounds of yard sales before the cold air would come to the Bay Area, and the ever eco conscience Californians were hip to reduce reuse recycle before they retailed refinished replaced for the holidays.  Linda was not from here, she may be a Quebecoise, but her soul had been born for the California dream.  Now she was slowing down a bit, joints not so limber from all her years in Canadian winters before they moved, and her eyes struggled at times with the crazy jumble of signs and flyers and graffiti and post cards and art that mosaicked all through her neighborhood.  Still, she had more than a finger on the pulse of Oakland, she was one of its hearts. 

Linda supplemented her home business with a second home business that capitalized on the first.  Her youth had been spent designing sexy lingerie and  sensual clothing for the more adventurous woman, man and transgender.  After a lifetime marriage and raising two fine young men, she still had the swing of sexy lady in her hips.  Eating a careful diet kept her slim enough to wear some of her braver creations, and her sense of spirit kept her in thigh high lace, combat stilettos and a leather bustier halter tap with matching leather frill panties when she worked.  Linda loved to feel sexy whenever possible, and her husband loved to receive her kisses after a day of sashaying around the house in her Fundergarments ™.  But she had another audience as well, behind the several video cams placed around her living room and kitchen.  Dressed as a dominatrix, she worked, cleaned, and relentlessly baked pastries to the utter delight of her rather niche fan club.  The Pastry Banditrix, she was called, amongst other more descriptive terms.  

Her adventure earned her some residual income and required no extra effort on her part.  She could advertise her clothing line, and sales would definitely go up around Halloween and the holidays, especially with her themed performances.  The cookies she baked would often find their way into the care packages she mailed to her hungry and lusty customers.   

Today, Linda had received a special request.  On camera, she was to try on the actual outfit being ordered, bake her delicious chocolate brownies, and then imprint them with her breasts.  Still on camera, she would do a strip tease with these brownies, and pack everything together to be shipped off.  The customer, Steve,  was known to her, his requests were varied and odd, and pushed a line for her but didn't break it.  She didn't mind the nipple nudity on the camera.  This time, he said, I know where you live and I would like to come pick up the package myself when you are done.  I will be watching, I will wait ....

It was late October, and the neighborhood was getting into the spirit of Halloween early this year.  A long season of unrest and disappointment spilled its energy into more decorations, more parties and a lot more kids wearing their costumes as soon as they got home from school.  Some of the adults also were dressing up more, she had seen more traffic from the drag queens and dancers as well.  All in a good days work, and she was no innocent.  Having pioneered the retail vibrator and the feather plumed g string, Linda was happy to keep filling orders and fulfilling fantasies.  She stood in the center view of the cameras, wearing a long black cape and a wig of black and pink, chin length bob, and her black sequined catgirl mask.

The strains of Queen were playing in the background, although they were not transmitted onto her webcam.  It was just something to juice her up and get going.  She teased her audience with a little slap and tickle, as the cape was waved and parted, exposing a knee, a thigh, a plump white ass.  She slipped on the netted stockings while lying on her back, one leg up, then the other, and laced the over the knee boots with military precision.  A red feather garter was slipped over her black leather panties, and clipped to the top of the boots.  Her belly button dazzled with glued on gems that traced a cobweb up to her breasts.  Rhinestone spiders dangled from red star pasties.  A harness of chains wound over and under her breasts and around her neck, then clipped onto her ears.  The cape was thrown back, and she danced and swirled into the kitchen.

Then things got kinky.

Her skills as a master baker were far renowned.  She melted chocolates and butters and whipped them with eggs and cream, tossed them with nuts and peppermint patty miniatures, covered them in candy corns and sparkles.  The Beetlejuice Bar.  As they baked away, she licked the spoon clean and rolled her eyes in chocolate bliss.  

The knock on the door startled her, and she looked at the cameras confused, and then across the room as the door opened and a gentleman in head to toe leather strode through the living room, mask of silk across his eyes, cherry pink lips grinning as he approached her.  Linda looked alarmed, and turned from left to right, picking up a wooden spoon and a baking mitten.  The masked man walked into the kitchen, and picked her up, sitting her on the kitchen table.  He pushed aside sprinkle bottles and cupcake foils, cooling racks and jack'o'lantern wax wrapping paper.  Taking the spoon and the mitten from her hands, he turned and pulled the brownies from the oven, and placed them over the burners on the stove.  He turned off the dial and returned to Ms. Linda, taking each of her wrists in his hands, and pulling them gently above her head as he pushed her onto the table.  He kissed the spot at the base of her throat, one of the few places of flesh not adorned with steel or jewels or leather or lace or feathers.  Just this one tender spot, open and vulnerable.  She lay quivering beneath him, and then he took her face in his hands, kissing her as deeply and soulfully as any kiss ever had passed between to lovers.  

Linda looked up and smiled, and pulled him into her body, letting the cape fall back from her shoulders and blanket the table.  

Hello, my love, he cried.  Hello, dear husband, she replied.  

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(NB:  This post was written with the permission and informed consent of those named.  Creative license has been taken with reality).