The keeper - illustrated bondage story, part 48

Her wrists were crossed and tied behind her with rubber-coated wire, but she wore white. There was a strapless underwire bra, and a matching, pure white ruffed micro-miniskirt. On her feet were tiny white ankle-strap high heels. Over her mouth was a single wide patch of thick, sticky, blue duct tape. Her look of helplessness and desperation was almost more than hecould stand.

“Your little friend wants to tell you something,” said the old woman, pushing the redhead forward. The old woman held Melissa in front of him by her hair, then slowly, and painfully, pulled the swath of tape off her soft pink lips.

Melissa gasped, licked her lips, then tried to speak, looking down.

“What do you have to say for yourself?’ the old woman snapped, pushing the young girl. He took her arm, pulling her even closer to him, as she tottered uncertainly on the severe shoes. He was again reminded of a tentative colt, practically broken. All she needed was one more ride.

“Please,” she breathed, her red mane masking her down-turned face. “Please,” she said again in her little, lost, sweet voice. “Will you please...?” “What?” he said, pulling her closer by her arm. He leaned his ear closer to her mouth. “What?”

“Will you please...,” she started breathlessly, “F.... fu....” She kept trying to say it, then started to softly cry. “Please have sex with me?”

He looked at his mother in surprise, and she positively beamed. Melissa just hung her head and continued to softly sob. He looked back at the chastised young girl, and brought her to him. Ignoring her tears, he sat her on his lap, facing him, wrapped his arms around her, and gently kissed her, full on the mouth.

She continued to cry. He kissed her again. He kept kissing her gently, fully, as the tears streamed out of her glistening green eyes. As the old woman watched, the kisses became more insistent and frmer. Then they became ferce, and passionate, her little hands stretching in her bonds.

Finally they were gagging her, his arms crushing her to him. Melissa’s legs began to swing, trying to fnd purchase (but pointedly not trying to propel her back). Then fnally, he grabbed a handful of her hair, and wrenched her head back. She gasped in surprise, her mouth wide, her legs still swinging, as the old woman jammed a handkerchief in her mouth.

“Well, I wasn’t going to,” he said savagely, ‘but since you asked so nicely ... !” Then he was tearing at his pants.

The old woman jerked the girl off her son’s lap for a second, then helped her back down as he still held her head, making her stare, teary-eyed, toward the ceiling. She felt the penis go in, felt her knees buckle, felt it fll her, and then the handkerchief was yanked out, and his tongue was there.

His lips burned her face as he fucked her once more. She gasped and tried to breathe as her body was twisted by his passion. Suddenly she was fat on her back on the butcher-block table, her tits being crushed, her lips mashed, his tongue down her throat, and her legs failing.

The bra snapped off, and was yanked away by the old woman. The skirt became little more than a belt. He slammed her to the table with his mouth and hands and cock again and again. Still, she couldn’t stop crying. Finally his hands went into her hair, his mouth popped off hers, he stood straight up, dragging her chest off the table, made a growling roar, and shot his load inside her.