The keeper - illustrated bondage story, part 4

He suddenly let go and moved away. She fell back, her scream becoming a surprised screech. He was on her as soon as her back hit the car foor. He dragged her leotard top up just high enough so it cut across her tits and nipples.

“Go ahead,” he said, holding her down by the shoulders. “Scream. Scream all you want.” Then he dragged her up, pushed her down on her stomach, and pulled up her ankles. He wrapped some more tape around them, keeping them tight against her thighs with his body. Then he attached the ankles to her wrists with more tape.

“There’s a good girl,” he said, leaning down and putting his mouth next to her right ear. “Scream.” He nipped at her ear. She screamed. “Kick.” He put his tongue in it. She turned her head away quickly, gasping. “Fight.” He grabbed a handful of hair and slobbered over her neck.

Before she could react, he threw her head down, and scrambled behind the wheel again. He started the car and drove out of the schoolyard parking lot. She cried, pulled on her bondage, and twisted from one side to the other. He heard her try to kick. He saw her fngers reaching, and her arms twisted, in the rear view mirror.

He noted her mid-length, red-painted fnger nails with satisfaction. He imagined their light touch on his cock as he drove. He pulled into the driveway of his mother’s house. He let the car roll all the way down to the garage, then he pulled onto the grass, so the passenger seat was close to the basement door. He quickly turned off the engine, hopped out, closed the driver’s door, opened the cellar door, and went back to the passenger side.

With one knee on the passenger seat, he reached back and grabbed the girl around the shins. She screamed and fought, but there wasn’t much she could do. The ease with which he got her kneeling on the seat surprised even her.

Then he cut loose the hogtie, slit the ankle and knee bonds. He grabbed her by both arms and dragged her out of the car. For a moment she stood there, wordless, breathing deeply out of her nose -- the only thing on her face that wasn’t taped shut. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, her head down, her chest swelling. At that moment, he directed her over to the cellar door. With a push she was inside. She could feel the warmth. She called out in an agonized question. Then the door was shut behind her. She was gone.

He grabbed her in a bear hug and carried her down the fve steps to the basement. All had been made ready for her stay. The windows were painted black. Just to be on the safe side, they were also nailed and boarded shut. Small rugs were hung over them, in addition. The furnace was in the middle of the room, but all around it was her new furniture.

The mattress was in the left corner. The basic, jailcell-type toilet was along the left wall. The four rings were set in the far wall. The chair was bolted down in the right corner. The big, square, block of wood was in the middle of the right hand part of the section, just beneath the empty, unused iron pipes running just under the eight and half foot tall ceiling. And the bolted down pole was in the shadow of the staircase, just under the door to the kitchen.