The keeper - illustrated bondage story, part 27

They were waiting when he got home. He fgured his mother would make a special celebration this frst day, so he came in and closed the front door quickly. Melissa stood in front of him, cringing. The old woman was holding onto her left elbow as she tentatively raised one foot, then the other, trying to fnd out how much room the hobble at her ankles gave her.

The black, shiny high heels were still stuck to her feet. Her wrists were behind her, crossed, and tied with padded black wire. The same rubber-coated black wire was cinched around each ankle. The same coated black wire which stretched for two feet between her legs.

Something was over her mouth. Her jaw was completely distended; everything from just over her chin to just under her nose was covered by a tight band of supple, clinging black leather. But by the way she painfully moved her head, he could tell that some- thing was prying open her teeth to their greatest aperture.

He smiled widely, feeling even more excitement grow. He had nothing to worry about. His mother had had all day to clean, cleanse, feed, and clothe their new housemates.

Melissa was dressed in a second skin, black-lace cat suit with a deep V-neck. It molded and adhered to her round breasts, her little pink nipples just barely visible beneath the skintight material. “She had this in her car,” the old woman said. “In case she needed to make a quick change.’

The girl herself could only feel it, since two small patches of black tape were over her big blue-green eyes. She just had to stand there, moaning softly, and tentatively pulling at her bonds as her lustrous hair curtained her features. He took a step toward her, then stopped, catching his breath. His mother had spent some time during the day altering the lace suit to her taste. He stared down in rapture between Melissa’s legs, where the old woman had cut out an upside down “U.”

Melissa’s satiny thatch of red cunt hair and a few centimeters of her smooth, alabaster skin was in perfect view.

He put down his briefcase and approached, stopping when he heard a distant grunt from his left. Looking over, he saw Dana sitting uncomfortably in his mother’s chair in front of the television. Her mouth was pried all the way open by a big white ball gag forced behind her teeth; held in place by a leather strap which buckled tightly behind her head. Her brown eyes were wide and wet, her face dappled with sweat.

He had been right. Dana did have a lot of nice lingerie.

She was wearing a fascinating white satin chemise that seemed stitched directly around her. Its spaghetti straps dug into the skin of her shoulders. The plunging V-neck molded her pendulous orbs, and there were oval holes sewn into the bodice, revealing even more chest fesh. The hem rippled just below her cunt line.

All her gloriously long, shapely legs were on view. Her feet were wedged into four inch white high heels with little bows in the back. Her legs were crossed and knees tied with thin white rope. Her right ankle was tied to her left ankle, and moored around her shoes with more white rope. The one foot on the foor was further tied to the left front leg of the chair. Her arms were behind her, her wrists crossed, tied, and then tied again to her waist ... which pulled the hem of the mini-chemise even higher.

She rocked slowly in place, her unfocused eyes trying to see. Unlike Melissa, Dana didn’t hear him or the TV. He saw that her ears were stuffed with cotton. She was sealed in her own, uncomfortable world.

He looked front again, his hands up, and continued his approach toward the redhead.

He put one hand in her hair; the other arm around her waist, pulled her head back, and slobbered on her neck. She gave off a short, gagged scream, and tried falling back -but her captors held her up as he remade her acquaintance. “I’m quite pleased,” said the old woman as he kissed and sucked. “They are both remarkably conditioned.” “I’ll say,” he gasped as Melissa sagged in his arms. “Very frm, but very fexible.”