The keeper - illustrated bondage story, part 15

“That’s okay,” he said, squeezing her hanging tits, thrusting again. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?” Dana heard the television next store in the duplex. He started to scream for help before each thrust. She raised her head, crying help, then choked as he pushed his cock up her ass. She cried for help again, louder. He thrust harder, pushing her forward. She shrieked for help, and he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her tits, pushing her down with his body.

He lay atop her as her face was pushed into the sodden sofa cushion, then stated rutting her like a horse. His hips moved frenetically back and forth, boring into her as she squeezed her eyes shut, tried to bite the beanbag, and maintained one long wail. Then he came again.

Dana writhed in his grip, trying to shake him off, but he wasn’t going. He grabbed her tits again and held on. She collapsed in rage and pain, his body weighing her down.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” he asked. “Tired yet?” She was foolish enough to instinctively shout no. Even with the gag he heard it. He held onto her tits, looked down at her red, sweaty, maddened face, and then shook his head.

He slapped her on the ass. “Fine,’ he said, getting up. “You asked for it.” He went to the pile of his clothes on the foor, and took the drug-soaked pad out of his jacket pocket. “Come on, baby,,” he said; returning to her quaking, crying form. “Breathe deep....” Then he slapped the cloth over her sweating, screaming face.

When she woke up, he was already fucking her. She lay back on her own bed, her legs wide, her ankles bound to the bed legs. Her arms and hands were bound as they had been downstairs; and the three layer gag was still tightly in place.

Her skirt and wide black belt were gone. The only thing she was wearing now was her shirt, stockings, shoes, garter belt, and the thin gold necklace. She rocked on the bed as he thrust into her, uncaring whether she was conscious or asleep.

She could fnally see: over his shoulder and out the bedroom window, into the night sky. She could see the twinkling stars as he pushed and pulled his hard, long, cock back and forth, back and forth along her vagina.

Dana gave out a long moan and raised her head. He grabbed a handful of her hair and held her face up -- all without stopping his rape.

“See?’ he said. “See what you get?” Then he threw her head back to the bedcovers and pillows as he climbed across her, still plunging his meat deeper inside her. He grabbed her right tit in one hand and suckled on the nipple as he rocked his dick up and back.

Dana shook her head and screamed once. Then he heard a long growl and groan in the back of her throat as she started trying to get her hands and arms free once again. She pulled on her ankle ropes, shaking the bed. He ignored it, holding her down with his body.

He grabbed her shoulders and started rutting again, forcing her hips deep into the mattress. She tried to hit him in the face again with her head, but he let one hand fall across her visage, and pushed her down. He held her like that until he could get his raw, overworked cock to restoke some semen.

He kept thrusting rubbing along her vagina, until his cock spurted and drooled. Dana tried to wrench herself free, but the ropes kept her. Her legs jerked in their bonds, and her arms twisted. She tried to scream “no” but the word became a long, loud, insistent hum. She twisted her head out from under his hand, and shook madly.

He slapped both hands onto her tits and ground them. “There,” he said. “Happy now?’ Dana screamed again in answer, more sweat popping out across her brow, her face red, and all the tendons standing out on her neck.

He flled both fsts with her hair and dragged her head back down, almost pulling her head backward from her neck.

“You want more?” he hissed. She fnally broke down, crying, her eyes screwed shut, tears fowing from them. He ignored it, rubbing the length of his cock against her cunt lips. “Is that a yes or a no?” She shook her head wildly, still in his hands. “No,” she screamed to the wall, the cry becoming a hollow, rasping gasp. Then she continued crying.

“Ah,” he said in disgust, throwing her head down. He pushed off her, then nimbly untied her ankles from the bedframe. She curled up into a ball and continued crying. Every few seconds her body would shake. He just stood and watched her.

Finally, she pulled one exhausted leg across the mattress and set the high heel on the foor. The other leg curled beneath it. Slowly and carefully she sat up. She could hardly keep her back straight or eyes open. Her head hung downs the gold necklace swinging above her shaking chest. She stayed that way for minutes, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

He checked his watch. “Just a little while longer,” he said. ‘What shall we do to keep busy?” Her head shot up, her eyes wide, shocked, and disbelieving. She sprang up, running for where she knew the door was, but he was there, catching her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her to him.

She cried and screamed, trying to knee him in the groin, but he defected all her weak, desperate strikes. He just held her tighter as she cried, body wracking. She tried to lower her head on his chest, but he turned her around, holding her to him by her squishy, pendulous tits.