Plaything 8 | rope and gag bdsm stories

Oswald smiled, picking up the bag Audrey went to check out their options. When she returned, her brother was hard at work. Clarissa was obviously awake by the way she agonizingly stretched, arching her back.

She lay spread-eagle on top of a steamer trunk, her small, lush form perfectly proportioned for it. Her jumpsuit was completely off and in a pile in the corner. Her shoes were back on. Underneath her outfit she had worn the lace shirt and a pair of those French pantyhose-the kind with the low slung, V-shaped black panties attached to the silky stretch black stockings.

Oswald had positioned the trunk perfectly. Her legs were pulled wide, her ankles looped with cord and attached to the rear of the enclosure by foot-long lengths of rope. Her arms were above her head, pulled wide, and attached by the wrists to the front comers of the steel-enforced enclosure.

The gag was still on. He had blindfolded her with a rag from the garbage bin. He was slicing open her panty as she screamed and pulled on her bonds in vain.

"Look at that," he grunted to his sister. "Look at the way her tits stand up."

The flesh balls were indeed remaining high and strong rather than sliding to the side or receding into the chest cavity.

"Yeah, she's prime, all right," he continued, ripping open her panty, revealing the thick, long, silky tuft of light brown cunt hair. Clarissa felt the cool air across it and started twisting her wrists and ankles in the ropes.

Oswald pulled down his own coveralls and gripped his already hard, long shaft.

"Once more into the beaver, dear friends," he growled, and slid it in.

Clarissa rose an inch off the steamer trunk. She was pulling that hard on the arm and leg bonds. She screamed so high the sound disappeared in the upper registers.

She dropped back to the steamer trunk, the back of her head thunking on it.

"Aw jeez, that won't do Audrey chided, going over to the duffel bags. Clarissa had started struggling, sliding her body all over the trunk top."

"Man, she's a handful," Oswald grunted as she screeched and coiled. "She's just getting the message and she doesn't like it."

"Nail her," said his sister. "Hold her down." The wide woman got more rope and Oswald's knife from the duffel bags.

Oswald pushed his cock all the way inside the girl and grabbed her hips, holding her loins on him. He pinioned her lower half that way.

Clarissa's head came up, screaming, and then Audrey pinched the captive's nose with the drugcloth.

She only held it long enough for one breath, then wrapped a double length of cord under Clarissa's chin, pulling her dizzied head back.

Audrey tied the ends around one of the steamer trunk's two handles, keeping Clarissa's head tight against the top. Then she took another length of cord, pushed it under the girl's back, wrapped her waist, slipped the rope ends under Clarissa's ass, then tied the end tightly around the opposite handle-- on the other end of the trunk.

It pulled the rope down tightly on Clarissa's hips. The swell of her thirty-four-inch pelvis coming off her twenty-three-inch waist kept her loins down tight. Then, with her brother's knife, Audrey went around and chopped open the top of Clarissa's lace T-shirt. She ripped it back until both the brunette's buoyant mounds were completely free.

"Shame to keep those prizes under a lace bushel," said Audrey. "Proceed."

Oswald pulled his cock out and plunged it in again, just as the girl came completely around. She shook on the steamer trunk top, vibrating in violated terror. She was bound, gagged, and blindfolded into, a horrid world of rape.

Her vibrations had to stop as he kept ramming his prick into her. Soon she just had to lie there, tied down, taking it, her body surging with each invasion.

She could no longer scream; she could only gasp. She could no longer struggle; she could only contort. The rope at her hips and her neck held her tighter than any hands.

Oswald's hands concerned themselves with her proud breasts as he leaned over her, rutting. Audrey concerned herself with Clarissa's lovely face.

As Oswald continued to fuck, Audrey started unstrapping the sponge pad.

"What are you doing?" he grunted, not balking.

"I want to see her lips," said Audrey, waving him away. "You wouldn't understand." He shrugged, his Porking undeterred, as she removed the second part of the gag. Beneath, Clarissa's crushed red lips were pried around the prod.

Audrey kneeled, cupping Clarissa's jaw in one hand, just above the ropes which were holding down her neck. Then she lowered her own head, opened her mouth, licked the brunette's lips, and kissed her.

She moisturized Clarissa's mouth as the girl began to cry out again. New tears started soaking into the blindfold. She undulated as Audrey slobbered onto her mouth.

Oswald reared up, his hands back to the shapely girl's hips, as his sister's right hand reached for Clarissa's amazing chest. Audrey's left hand mopped their captive's brow, then sunk into her light brown mane. She squeezed and pulled as she sucked and licked.

Oswald pressed down on Clarissa's clit with his thumb as he continued to jam his cock into her. Then he scratched and massaged it.

The center of Clarissa's body began to shake uncontrollably, rattling the heavy steamer trunk. Audrey suddenly lay across her, one hand over Clarissa's mouth, the other molesting her left tit as she started sucking on the captive's right one.

Clarissa shook her head, surging, as the two continued their work. She had to get away, but she couldn't. She felt it all, helpless to do anything about it.

She screamed into the hand which held the thing in her mouth. She shook her head, but the blindfold stayed over her eyes. She pulled and spasmed, but the lightning continued across her chest, and the thunder rumbled below.

Clarissa was covered in sweat. Her muscles contracted to their tightest. Her toes pointed. Her fingers reached archingly out. Her head went all the way back on her neck.

Nothing. The hands, mouth, and penis did not disappear. The ropes did not slacken or loosen.

Oswald tapped his sister on the arm. Audrey reared up, grabbed both Clarissa's tits, and squeezed, pressing them into the girl's chest with all her might.

Oswald stood, grabbed Clarissa's thighs, pushed his prick all the way into her cunt, and ejaculated.

The little girl remained spread-eagled on the steamer trunk. Oswald stood at her head, holding his hand over her prod-filled mouth. He looked down with curiosity as her body quivered, occasionally manhandling one of her firm, succulent tits.

Those, and the rest of her body, would grow warm, then be covered with goose pimples. Then she would quiver again, moaning, her butt and back hitting the trunk top. For Audrey was kneeling between her legs, tending to the captive's cunt with her mouth, tongue, and fingers.

The orgasms were close to a half dozen now. Audrey just kept going at it in different combinations until Clarissa let out another long, muffled wail and let her body whiplash in the ropes.

Finally Oswald had enough rest. They undid her from the steamer trunk and sat her up. Her magnificent breasts didn't sag. They merely sank slightly, becoming all the bigger and thicker. Oswald held her elbows behind her, and Audrey held her wrists in front of her. Still gagged and blindfolded, she was too weak to do much about it.

They retied her that way. Oswald cinched her elbows, with enough slack in between them so Audrey could bind Clarissa's wrists over her naval. Then Oswald laid down next to the steamer trunk. Audrey forced the blinded Clarissa to sit across his haunches. He grabbed her undulating hips so his sister could bind the brunette's ankles to her thighs, leaving just enough slack to give her a little bounce.

The girl's head came up, crying again. Audrey pushed it forward, knocking Clarissa's chin to her chest, and started unstrapping the prod gag from behind her head.

"What are you doing?" Oswald wondered.

"Get cracking," she replied. "I don't want the little bitch to get too much wind up."

Needing no other encouragement, Oswald grabbed his cock, maneuvered Clarissa's hips back, and inserted his shaft into her slit again.

Clarissa started to complain in earnest, and tried to et up. Both captors kept her down. Oswald grabbed one hip and one tit. Audrey, unclipping the gag grabbed a handful of light brown hair and pulled the prod free.

Clarissa gasped as Audrey reached into the pocket of her overalls.

"Stop, please," Clarissa begged, raspy and choking, feeling the cock surging into her again. "What have I ? Why are you doing this to . . . The 11 me" was cut off as Audrey grabbed her chin and stuffed a thick cloth between her teeth.

The wide woman yanked it down on either side of Clarissa's face, the captive making a gurgling sound as her head was pulled back.

"This is too good an opportunity to pass up," said Audrey, viciously tying the tight new gag behind Clarissa's neck. "We won't have on this size again."

Pushing Clarissa's head forward, leaving her to grunt and chew on the cloth wad, Audrey unzipped and pulled open her own pair of overalls. She let them fall and stepped out, dressed only in a T-shirt and underwear. She then pulled the underwear down.

Seeing what she was planning, Oswald held onto Clarissa's hips tighter, his movements becoming more pronounced. Clarissa leaned forward, trying to get the momentum to rock off him. Audrey grabbed her hair and pulled her all the way back-- the farthest she could go without falling. Tragically, it was Oswald's big prick which kept her body upright.

Then, still holding onto Clarissa's hair, keeping her head all the way back, Audrey stepped over her, mounting her face as if it were a saddle.

Audrey clamped her thighs on either side of Clarissa's head, the captive's chin sticking out of her cunt in front, the majority of her tousled brown hair hanging from Audrey's ass.

The two kept the girl there, her upper body like a backwards question mark. They moved their hips in rhythm, making Clarissa into a five foot-one sex whip.

Audrey would start the wave by moving her hips. The movement would shake Clarissa's chest, ripple her stomach, and snap at her hips, where Oswald would catch the movement with his cock, sending it back up again.

The two kept the girl clamped in place, her teeth clenched, her lips trying to avoid Audrey's coarse snatch, her fingers clawing, the short rope between her ankle and thigh snapping taut and loosening, snapping taut and loosening....

It took a long time for Oswald to come again. When he did, Clarissa's face smashed into Audrey's crotch. Her fingers clawed frantically, the rope between her thighs and ankles stretched, she cried out involuntarily, then everything went slack.

After he did, Clarissa did not make a move or sound. They did not need to drug her again. She remained pliant and still, her eyes closed, as they regagged her and retied her as she had been in the garbage sack. They put her back in the bag, then broke into the trunk.

By seven in the morning, the sun was up and the airport was hopping. Thousands of travelers were arriving and departing in hundreds of vehicles. No one noticed a pile of goods stuck behind a crate in the baggage storage area. Hardly anyone took undue notice of a steamer trunk sitting on the sidewalk, near the curb. If anything, the redcaps were pleased to see the beat-up, windowless, blue van drive up, and the two people in overalls haul the trunk into the back.

The one closest noticed the extra thick mattress in the van and the way the floor was heightened by heavy-duty shock absorbers, but it made no difference to him.

There was no one to see them drive into the long-term parking area. They just got a ticket from a machine. They would meet a human when they drove out.

The blue van did not drive out. Oswald parked it far in the back, but away from the fences where security most often patrolled. The two of them got out of their seats and got to work.

Oswald unpacked the girl while Audrey toiled over the clothes. It took each of them almost an hour. The man had to be very careful undoing all the tight knots, especially the ones in Clarissa's hair. He took off all the bonds, except the ones on her wrists and ankles. Then he carefully rolled down her pantyhose until it bunched at her feet. Then he tied her knees, undid her ankles, pulled the pantyhose off, and retied her ankles.

Finally, he cut her black lace T-shirt completely off. Clarissa Hayes lay naked-bound, gagged, and blindfolded-at their feet.

Audrey did a masterful job with the girl's jumpsuit. She cut the legs off, then slit the remaining pelvic cover up the sides, all the way to the waist. She cut off the arms and hollowed out most of the sides. With her brother's help, she carefully got Clarissa back into it. The girl's eyelids flickered when they removed the gag and replaced it with another one. Her eyes snapped open when they pulled her arms back and crossed her elbows.

The tiny, built brunette screamed as they each tugged an arm, pushed her onto her back, and bound her wrists. Clarissa was lying face up. She was wearing what was left of her jumpsuit, her legs and most of her torso completely exposed.

The three top buttons were undone, and the shoulders pulled down so the neckline squeezed into her cleavage. Most of her breast's sides and undercarriage were sticking out of the jumpsuit's new side openings. The short-shortened, slit-leg openings were digging into her pantyless crack.

Her legs were spread-eagled, the shoes back on, each ankle affixed tightly to an opposite comer of the van's rear wall. Her arms were behind her back, the elbows crossed and bound, her forearms out the opposite sides of her body, her right wrist lashed to the van's left wall, and her left wrist lashed to the van's right wall. There was another rope binding her elbows to her waist, which ran beneath her absurdly tight belt. Her head rested on a thick pillow.

Clarissa heaved, sobbing into her new facial fixture. Audrey had made a pad of her panties and slid them into one stocking, which she had tied in Clarissa's mouth. Then she had secured it there with the other stocking, holding it tightly between the girl's abused lips. Over it all was the lace T-shirt, wrapped around her head like a hood-looking like a cross between a mask and a veil.

Clarissa's unblindfolded eyes widened when she saw her predicament and the two people standing above her. She started begging pathetically.

"No, no," chided Audrey, holding"up the two-piece prod gag. "Can't leave this here. Might be traceable. Your own clothes won't be."

"There, there, babe," Oswald said, prodding her hip with his toe. "Can't have you rocking the boat, can we? That would be a dead giveaway to all those returning vacationers looking for their cars."

"No, dear," said the woman. "The windows are closed, the doors are locked, the vehicle is insulated.

And you can't kick, can't hit, and can hardly sit up."

"Try pounding your head all you want," Oswald invited. "Between the mattress and the pillow, this thing won't move a bit."

"By the way," his sister informed the prone girl, "I pinned the pillow to the mattress. It won't be moving either."

Clarissa twisted and shook and arched as far as she could, babbling hysterically. Audrey tsked. Oswald kneeled, lifted the girl's jumpsuit front, and kissed her lightly on both nipples before the duo went out the front doors, locking and closing the partitions on Ms- April's agitated noises.

"I could come back," Oswald said as they walked toward their other car. "During the busiest times. Or late at night. I could come back and let her have it tight in the middle of the action." Planes went overhead. An occasional car or bus went by.

"Certainly," said Audrey. "But Kirby first."

"Kirby...... Oswald said, thinking. "Incredible."

"Exactly," said Audrey. "A fucking doppelganger just for you."

"Fucking is right," Oswald retorted, coming to the car.

Audrey smiled, waiting for him to unlock the doors. He was amazing. He had gone almost forty-eight hours without sleep, and had fucked at least a half dozen times. Still, he was sharp as a tack, filled with seed, and raring to go.

As he got in and reached across to her door, Audrey looked across the parking lot to a nondescript blue van, with no windows on the back or side. It just sat there, one vehicle among thousands.

Did it move? Was that a shake? Did Audrey see a nearly imperceptible vibration in its axles?

No. It was probably just her imagination.

The Rowlands made their slow, careful, complicated way from the airport parking lot.

KIRBY ANDREWS WAS INCREDIBLE-A FRISKY Palomino colt of a girl. A full five foot-seven inches tall in her stocking feet, she was a hundred and twenty pounds of gorgeous shape, with everything on the verge of outrageous ripeness.

Her blond hair was a yellow-white unruly mane which cascaded down her back to her shoulder blades and down her front to just above her big, sloppy, thirty-seven-inch chest. She just managed to have a twenty-four-inch waist by nature of her height and her natural athletic inclinations. Her hips were a wonderful thirty-six inches, her rear was succulent, and it all ended on long, lovely legs.

Her chin had just the hint of a cleft, her nose was straight and just slightly upturned, and her eyes were smokey blue. At rest, her lips were round and kissable, and painted the same red as her medium-length fingernails.

"She always wears that same stuff," Brad Calvin said. "The stuff that's tight, but not tight, you know?"

"Loose," Audrey suggested. "But clingy."

"Yeah," said Calvin. "The kind of shit that seems to be rippling all over her.

The kind that when she turns or something, you can see her moving beneath it, you know? You can see her tits wiggling and shaking and sliding....

"We get the idea, Mr. Calvin," Audrey said.

"When do you think your stepdaughter will be home?"

It was a simple house on a simple suburban street.

It had a basement and an attic, three bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, dining room, living room, pantry, and den. In it lived Kirby's widowed stepfather, and for the moment, Kirby. But she had finished high school and the local two-year college.

"She took the modeling gig to get enough money to move out," Calvin muttered.

"But with today's real-estate prices, it still wasn't quite enough." He chuckled into his beer. "So she's been hauling her tasty ass trying to get enough bread to get out." He took another swig of courage. "I think you guys are lucky. I think your timing is great. I think today's the day."

"That's the idea, Mr. Calvin," said Audrey. "We'll just stay out of sight until you find out what the deal is .

But Calvin wasn't listening with both ears. "Damn bitch," he mumbled into his beer. "Wouldn't even take my name when I married her mother. Eighteen, nineteen years old then, and already with the mouth and the attitude. Thinks she's so great. Wouldn't let me touch her, like she's some goddamn queen. Wouldn't even let me bring her magazine into the house. I fooled her, though. I still got it.

Got it hid. She's a honey, all right......

"Yes, Mr. Calvin," said Audrey. "We know."

"She's coming," said Oswald, moving away from his post at the shuttered front window.

"We'll just go upstairs to the guest room, Mr. Calvin," Audrey said quickly, joining her brother at the stairs. It was right next to Kirby's room, so they could listen. "We'll know when the time is right."

Calvin chuckled again.

"What's so funny?" Oswald asked.

"Nothing," said Calvin. "It's just that here she is hauling ass to get enough money to move out, and here you are paying me to make sure it doesn't happen.

"Funny," said Audrey, pulling on her brother's arm. "Isn't it?"

Kirby Andrews came into the house, stopping dead when she saw her stepfather.

Without a word, but a look that spoke volumes, she took long, purposeful strides to the stairwell.

She was wearing a red T-shirt minidress under a bleached denim jacket. The neckline of the dress was a deep, scooped U, and Calvin could see her breasts flouncing like surfing waves beneath.

"Where are you going in such an all flamed rush?" he called after her irritably.

"Out," she said over her shoulder, hopping up the stairs in her red high-heel pumps. "For good."

Calvin came after her. "What do you mean, out?"

Kirby strode into her room, pulled a suitcase from her closet, and started going through her bureau. "Just what I said. I've got enough cash for an airline ticket. I've got enough money to get started. I told all my friends. I'm out of here. I'm starting my life . . . someplace else."

"What are you talking about?" Calvin growled, leaning in the doorway with his beer. He stared down her dress top as she leaned over the luggage. Her big mams hung down, the dress's neckline just blocking his view of her big pink areolas.

"Your m-)m left me the money, remember? She told me to take care of you."

Kirby flared, standing straight so fast her hair flew back in a torrent. "Take care of me?" she exclaimed. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? You haven't taken your leering eyes off me for a second since she died."

"Hey," he retorted, "I didn't take my fucking clothes off for a camera."

"I did it to get out!" she shot back. "I needed cash quick. Mom gave you her money-- what there was of it-- but she gave me this body. So I used my inheritance to get out-to get away from you!"

"Am I so bad?" Calvin asked innocently.

"You!" Kirby scoffed. "Trying to get into the bathroom while I showered ...

trying to get into my bedroom at night.... The only thing that stopped you was knowing my friends would kick the living shit out of you if you tried!"

He looked at her calmly, smiling. "So what’s stopping me now? You told them you were leaving, remember?"

Kirby gasped, stepping back. "You wouldn’t dare!,,

"But we would," said Oswald, pushing Calvin out of the way and charging.

Calvin was astonished. The two went right over the bed, right into her, pinning the blond to the wall, just inches away from the window. The woman ripped down Kirby's denim jacket, twisting it amongst the girl's arms. Oswald slammed into her straight on, wedging himself between her anchoring legs, pressing himself against her front, grabbing the back of her head and pressing a big, thick cloth against her lower face.

Calvin watched in amazement as Kirby's brain tried to figure out what to tell her legs. They jerked in place several times, on either side of the big man, as the hem of her minidress was pushed back to the very top of her thighs by his torso. They couldn't decide whether to run or kick or shift or what.

Her arms knew enough to hit and her shoulders tried to respond, but the limbs were twisted in her jean jacket behind her. It wasn't until she tried pulling her had away that she regained enough sanity to try screaming. By then, of course, it was too late. The drug-soaked cloth was doing its work.

Both attackers let go, Oswald shifting his grip to the back of Kirby's waist.

She lolled back in a dancer's arc, her arms and hair hanging down. She made little gasping noises like a fish out of water, her eyelids fluttering.

Audrey took the opportunity to take a big red ball gag out of her pocket. She pushed between Kirby's lips and under her teeth. Then she kneeled under the girl, pulling the elastic straps under the blond's thick mane, and secured it at the back of her head.

"How nice of her to maintain the color scheme," Audrey commented. The gag matched the dress and the shoes. The wide woman motioned toward the bed with her head.

Oswald dropped the girl face first on the mattress. The denim jacket had long since fallen to the floor. Audrey plucked up Kirby's weak arms and started knotting rope around her wrists.

"Look at this!" Oswald marveled from the closet. "Look at all this nice stuff!"

There were bone-colored cotton summer dresses, black satin scoop-necked shirts with spaghetti straps, red leather miniskirts, a black tube minidress, and all sorts of matching high heels Oswald ignored the less esoteric street clothes.

"That's nothing," said Calvin, still stunned that the girl was lying like a sack of potatoes on her bed. "You should see the stuff we have in the attic."

"All in good time," Audrey intoned, tightly tying Kirby's wrists together behind her back. "First things first." She rolled the girl over. Calvin had a hard time not holding his breath at the sight. Kirby's mouth was all the way open, her lovely lips pressed on the ball jammed between her teeth.

Audrey slit the girl's skirt open to just under Kirby's crotch, and cut the neckline down deeply between Kirby's heaving breasts.

"Brother dear," she called. "What about her legs?"

"Well," he drawled," we don't want her running. But we don't want her feeling too unexposed either."

Audrey smiled. "I've got just the thing." With that, she reached under Kirby's skirt and pulled down her lacy white panties to her knees. Then she knotted them so neatly that each leg opening cinched the limb so tightly they were like lace nooses.

Kirby's lips started working around the ball. She started making little noises.

She started to blink.

"What now?" Calvin managed to choke out.

Oswald looked at him without expression. "Whatever we want," he said. To let the point hit home, the big man leaned down and flipped open a side of the dress's cut neckline, exposing her left tit. Calvin's eyes bulged. It was big and floppy and filled, like a dark pink water balloon. Oswald reached down and squooshed it.

Kirby's smokey blue eyes snapped open, then slowly closed again.

"She's pretty much out for the next fifteen minutes," said Audrey. "No matter what we do."

To prove that point, Oswald then reached down and flipped up the red dress's hemline, letting the front fold back, exposing Kirby’s small, triangular tuft of reddish-blond beaver hair. He grabbed it, sticking his forefinger into her crack, as if he were testing the temperature of tap water.

He moved it around until Kirby groaned, her eyes rising to half mast and her body surging yearningly.

"What are you going to do now?" Calvin asked through clenched teeth.

"What do you think?" Audrey replied.

"You didn't say nothing about…" he started before his mouth got dry.

"Did we have to?" Oswald asked, finger still moving-Kirby still moaning and undulating

"We said we wanted to keep her here," said Audrey. "How did you think we'd do it?"

Calvin looked glassy-eyed at the blond on the bed.

"Hey man," he complained, "she's my stepdaughter."

Understanding dawned on the Rowlands' faces. "Don't worry," Oswald said, backing off. "you’ll get familial rights."

"As long as that's understood," Calvin harumphed. He reached down and flicked the dress top back over Kirby's tit. Then his forefinger brushed the nipple beneath the cloth. Then it lightly rubbed the area. Finally he pressed it like a button.

Kirby moaned again. Calvin gripped the tit through the cloth and Pulled. Kirby made a grunting hum.

"Shit," he I said, backing away himself. "We can't just keep her here."

"Why not?" said Audrey.

"She'll get away. She'll scream."

Audrey dumped the contents of her small duffel onto the bed beside the girl.

There were straps and cuffs and rope and cord and pads. "How?" asked the wide woman.

"The neighbors..."

"She won't be in front of any windows," Oswald promised.

"But....

"She went away, remember?" said Audrey. "She's no longer here, remember? As far as anybody else knows, she's gone, right?"

The Rowlands saw the realization growing on Calvin's face. He finally accepted that they could get

away with it. That what he had been fantasizing about for so long was coming true.

He took a step toward her, his hands out, and the doorbell rang.

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