The keeper - illustrated bondage story, part 44

And she kept doing it until he looked up suddenly and nodded at his mother. The old woman immediately pushed Melissa’s head all the way down, he grabbed her hair in both hands, held on tightly, thrust his hips up, and ejaculated a mighty wad into her mouth. Melissa writhed like a fsh on a hook, before he suddenly let go. She reared back, cum streaming out of her groaning mouth, and slammed back into the old woman. She expertly caught the young redhead, clapped a hand over her mouth, and used the other to stroke the redhead’s throat. Suddenly, other than that movement, the two were as motionless as a statue.

“Swallow,” she whispered into her fery mane. “Swallow....”

He watched in wonder as she screwed her green eyes shut, her nostrils fared, and she did that very thing. He took some semen which had splattered on her hand, and massaged it carefully into her tits as she swallowed the very last drop of his jiz.

“Okay,” he said, his fngers spidering around her hips. “Stand up.’ The old woman “helped” her until they stood before the chair, one hand still on Melissa’s lips, the other tight around her throat. His hands rested on her round ass cheeks, reminding him of the blonde’s tighter ones. But, after all, variety is the spice of life.

He pulled her toward him. “Come on.” Melissa hesitated, her brow furrowing, little noises coming from behind the old woman’s hand. The old woman pushed. ‘Don’t be stupid. That was just the start. You know what’s next.” She kicked at the back of the girl’s knee. “Kneel on the seat. You know how.”

Carefully, tentatively, Melissa placed her knee all the way in back of the seat cushion, beside his left hip. Still holding her hips, he looked up at her. “This is how it’ll go. Whenever your mouth is free, you use it. No teeth, no words, or you’ll never have to worry about talking again.”

The old woman let go of Melissa’s throat, and raised the paring knife to her sparkling green eyes. “I’ll cut your tongue out, dear,” she whispered into her ear so softly not even her son could hear it.

She stiffened and stared at him in horror. He just held her thighs. “Do you understand?” he asked quietly. The old woman pressed the knife to her back, and she nodded.

“Let’s go then,’ he said, pulling her closer. “The sooner you get me off, the sooner you’re done.’ He helped her get her other leg up, until she was kneeling on the seat, facing him, his legs between hers. The old woman still held the redhead’s mouth (the knife at her throat) as he placed the crown of his cock through her auburn tuft and between her vaginal lips. Then he gripped her ass again and pulled her to him.

He slipped all the way inside as she gave off a short bleat and strangled squeal. He waited until she stilled, then snaked one hand up to her tit and wrapped the other behind her neck.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s get going.’

Immediately the old woman let the girl go, and he crushed his mouth to hers. Melissa’s eyes snapped all the way open, and her hands opened all the way out. Her bound arms started swinging like a warning sign, and her hips started jerking up and down, then side to side.

His tongue was deep in her mouth, and his lips seemed glued to hers. Just as she started to react, she felt the knife blade resting on her back. Her eyes shut and she fought back, but only with her own tongue.

They would stay that way for minutes, and whenever his mouth came off hers, the old woman’s hands were there, clamped over Melissa’s lips, and holding the knife to her throat, as he suckled her breasts and jammed his cock deeper and deeper inside her.

Then his hand would be back behind her head, and the old woman would release her like a thoroughbred. Soon she didn’t even have to push. Melissa’s head would snap back with an audible pop, right into the old woman’s mitts, and then slam down with frenzied abandon.

She had been molested and stimulated so much that even this horrible perverted version of passion was enough to consume her. After all the incredibly stringent bondage, the fact that only her wrists were bound made it seem she was not restrained at all.

Soon, Melissa was riding him, finging her head this way and that, while gulping in huge balls of air. She was gasping and drooling, perpendicular to him, when suddenly the old woman grabbed her head, and he grabbed her tits.

The old woman cupped her jaw, clamped her hand over her mouth, and held Melissa’s head tightly against her torso. He grabbed and pulled at her mounds like taffy, stretching her between them.

And all the while, his hips kept thrusting, pushing his penis insistently inside her, rubbing her vaginal canal raw.

It only served to remind the young girl who and where she was. As her cunt was doused with lubrication, she started screaming in agony, twisting her head in the woman’s grip, and trying to straighten her legs. Melissa all but vaulted off the chair, pushing even the old woman back.

Just then he ejaculated again.

Suddenly the entire room was still. Melissa stood several feet away, panting in the old woman’s arms. The old woman stared at her son’s dribbling member. Even Dana didn’t move, feeling the tension in the room.

Finally he stood up, staring down at the sweating, hunched, exhausted, treacherous redhead. As he approached, the old woman pulled the captive’s head back further and further so he could look directly into her eyes.

He just stood there, staring at her frightened, trapped eyes, for a full thirty seconds. And then he simply took her dainty skirt frills gently between his fngers, lifted the hemp up, and carefully reinserted his penis all the way into her cunt.

Melissa’s green eyes stayed wide all during that. It was only when the old woman made her grind on the cock that her eyes screwed shut again, and the tears started.

“That was a mistake. That was a terrible, terrible mistake.’ The words echoed over again and again in Melissa’s brain as she lay in the cellar. Yes, it was a mistake. Better she should have taken his cum than suffer this.

Her arms were wrenched behind her, everything from her elbows to her wrists tied together. One leg was bent, her ankle tied to her thigh, and then spread wide by rope affxing it to a ring in the foor. The other leg was straight, tied to a ring in the foor so it was stretched in the other direction. Her shoes and stockings were still on, but the cheerleader outft was gone.

They didn’t need it. The straps covered her body well enough. All were attached so tightly they might as well have been under her skin. One was atop her nipples, crushing her tits. One was around her waist, taking inches off her already slim measurements. And one was affxed to that, going between her legs, holding in the pump.