The keeper - illustrated bondage story, part 12

She backed away from him, heading for the bedroom window, bleating. Her eyes moved wildly, trying to fnd and focus. Her shoulders strained. She continued to bend from the waist, asking all sorts of questions which couldn’t be heard. “Oh no,” he said again, regrabbing her. He pulled the struggling, babbling girl toward the door. He let her step out, then pushed her against the wall.

She hit it with her back, then froze in place as her fuzzy vision was flled with his form. “Where are you going?” he asked quietly, leaning on the wall next to her, pinioning her between him and the bedroom door. “Where do you think you’re going?

She begged through the gag, her eyes pleading. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

She pleaded louder, with more desperation. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Her eyes began to get glassy and wet. “No,” he said, reaching for her shirt. “You’re going to stay here. With me.” He let his thumb and fngers meet around her hanging tit. He let it slip off his closing fngers in a smooth, teasing pinch.

She jerked back, making a stunned sound. Then she started pleading again.

“Stay here,” he said, doing it again. She pushed herself back against the wall with an audible thunk, making her tits jiggle. “Good, good, good,” he said, reaching for the same breast tenderly. “Stay here.” He gripped it tighter this time, feeling its heft.

Dana started screaming and banging the back of her head on the door.

He immediately grabbed her by the arms and waist, and whirled her around in the narrow confnes of the hall. Her screams became a shriek, and then she was frozen again, on the opposite wall of the hall. The one not connecting the duplex.

He pushed her in that corner tightly with his body, squeezing the tit in earnest now. “No, no, no, don’t do that. Don’t do that,” he chided. “I don’t want to share you with anyone. Give it all to me.”

She cringed as he squeezed, trying to slip down to the foor. Her eyes squeezed shut and tears started dropping out.

He suddenly yanked her up by her tit, making her eyes snap open as she gasped; then he grabbed both sides of her shirt and yanked it open, buttons fying. She started to scream again, and tried to rush past him, but he pushed her back hard against the wall, his hand fat on her exposed chest. He felt her smooth, brown, freckled skin beneath his hand, then let the fngers move around until they slipped under the lacey, scalloped sides of the bra cups.

He flled his hand with her pendulous, full left breast, feeling the brown knob of her nipple tickling his palm. He squeezed and pushed, nailing her to the wall. “That’s good,” he cooed. “That’s nice. Now just take it easy, dear, take it easy. You and me have to get along for quite some time now. Make it easy on yourself. Just relax. Relax....”

She continued to cringe and cry. Her knees bent, but she could go no further. She almost stood there, letting him play with her left tit like a lump of clay. She stood there, feet as wide as she could get them, high heels anchored as much as possible. Her elbows were still together behind her, as were her wrists. Her fngers curled in, tickling each other palm, as she tried to grip the rope which bound her.

The gag was as tight and secure as ever, adhered to her head -her silky short hair not obstructing it in the slightest. She tried to chew the bean bag, but it rested securely on her tongue, behind her teeth, flling her cheeks -- held there by the white bandage running through the wide, muffing ace bandage.

Her skirt might as well be more rope, the way it gripped the bottom of her thighs, just above her knees. She stood as straight as she could, trying to fnd a way out.

But every time she moved, she could feel her chest jiggle.

He had opened her shirt to the waist. He had kept it tightly tucked under the wide belt and skirt top, so it made a V to her shoulders. Then he had cut off her bra.

Her tits were held by the sides of the shirt opening. They hung, like perfect, fesh-colored water balloons, the tips slightly elevated, the big brown aureoles sur- rounding the nubs of her erect nipples.

And every time she moved -- even just to gasp or groan -- they jiggled. She blushed for the hundredth time, and bowed her head.

He watched her from the top of the stairs, just to make sure she didn’t go toppling down them. He didn’t want her breaking an arm, a leg, or a neck. Not when he had other plans for her. Not when she was about to move in with him. But frst he had to wait until the neighborhood was quiet, and everyone was asleep. Dana stood in the narrow hall, blinded, gagged, her arms and thighs bound. She leaned against the left wall, almost motionless save for her breathing. There was nothing she could do. She couldn’t plead, or cry for help, or run away. She couldn’t fght. She just had to stand there and let him look at her.

And look he did; at her wonderfully smooth skin, her hanging, quivering orbs, her lovely face, the waist whose slimness was accentuated by the tight wide black belt, and those great legs, which were accentuated by the high, severe heels.

He sighed and stood. “Sooner or later we’ll have to move,” he said while walking toward her and digging a hand in his jacket pocket. “And you’ll have to be nice and tired when we do.”