The keeper - illustrated bondage story, part 8

It did. Pull and twist as she might, Melissa couldn’t get lose. She could move around, but only an eighth of an inch at a time, and with great effort -- which wasn’t aided by the blockage in her mouth, cutting off half her air. Even so, she managed to fnd the wall in just an hour or two, and spent the rest of her time trying to scrape off her blindfold and gag.

Her shapely little body was still covered in sweat, making the naked fesh of her arms, waist, and legs shine. Perspiration had also fltered into her red mane, but that only made it shine as well. Melissa grunted and moaned as her limbs rubbed against each other with every effort. She felt his fetid semen inside her every time her thighs moved.

She screamed again in torment and frustration, but nothing came of it. She lay still for a moment, her head down, then started rubbing it against the wall under the stairway again.

It may have been the thousandth time that the edge of the tape finally gripped the wall. Melissa was stunned into stillness. Then she tried again. The grit rubbed her skin, but then the tape held again. She moved her head back, and she felt the tape pulling off her cheek. She was too excited, and too weak, so she pulled her head too far back, and the tape snapped off the wall.

She tried again, but the exposed tape was too covered with grit to stick. Even so, she felt the gag give when she moved her mouth. She started chewing the pincushion furiously and tried wedging it out from beneath her teeth. Hours later, it started to work. Melissa kept scraping her face against the wall, and chewing, and pushing with her tongue. The more she did it, the more energy she got, remembering he could come back at any moment. But he didn’t come back, and she kept chewing and pushing and scraping until the tape was a quarter off her lips, and the pincushion was halfway out of her mouth.

Choking on excitement, Melissa rolled onto her side, the back of her head and her heels on the wall, shaking her head furiously, and pushing with her tongue. She felt the padding give. She felt it coming out of her mouth like a big, thick, wet, turd. It caught on the tape at the last seconds but with a huge effort, Melissa spit it out of her mouth.

The gag held on, hanging and pinioning one third of her lips, but she gasped, and sucked in breath. “Help,” she called in a little girl voice. Then stronger and louder. “Help! Help! Someone help me, please! Helllp!!”

Melissa kept screaming until she heard footsteps. It seemed like a full minute of solid screaming. Then her words froze in her throat for a split second as the fear it might be him covered her. But then she heard a door open and a voice say, “Who is it?” Melissa almost fainted in relief. It was a woman’s voice. “It’s me,” Melissa said. “I’m down here. I’m tied up. Someone ... kidnapped me. Help, please!” She heard more footsteps, heavy ones, and the woman say “oh my god.” Then the woman was standing over her. Melissa could tell by the proximity of her voice. “Are you all right?”

Melissa ignored the question. “Untie me,, please!” she begged.

“Of course, of course,” said the woman,, and then Melissa felt her strong, fat fngers tearing at the tape around her ankles.

“My hands...,” the redhead started.

“Of course, of course,” the woman repeated, still tearing at the tape around her legs, and making quick work of it. With strong, certain movements, the woman tore and ripped the tape off Melissa’s ankles. By making one tear across the back of the tape cinching her thighs, Melissa’s legs were completely free. The woman sat the girl up.

“I can’t see,” Melissa said.

“Please...”

“You were making quite a racket,” the woman said quickly over her. “I thought it might be a cat or a siren, but then I heard the words ....”

“Yes, yes,” Melissa gasped. “I can’t feel my hands....” “Don’t worry,” said the woman. “We’ll take care of that.” Then she was sitting beside the girl.

“What are you ....?” Melissa started, but that was as far as she got. That was when the woman started grabbing handfuls of her hair and plunging bobby pins along the back of her head.

“What, what, ow!” Melissa cried, her head down, her hair being affxed on the top of her head, Then the tape was ripped entirely off her mouth. And something else was plunged in.

Melissa’s new cry of pain was cut off by the shaped plastic prod that went between her teeth. She bit down, but it was too late. The prod was all the way in, a padded leather band crushing her lips. Then she felt straps tighten at the back of her neck, unobstructed by her long hair. The prod gag was cinched so tightly that it felt as if she had been born with it in her mouth, “Feel that, dear?” the woman said as she pulled out the bobby pins, letting the red hair fall back across her shoulders. “Recognize the shape?”

Melissa screamed again, her head going back, the sound once again muffed, twisted, and obstructed. Yes, she did recognize the shape as her tongue went all over its underside and it bulged against her upper palate. It was a big, thick, short penis.