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It grew even louder and more strident as he came down the steps. Unlike Dana, Melissa was well aware of his presence. She was positioned so she could see whoever came downstairs ... for all the good it did her.
He sucked in his breath at the sight of her. She was sitting on a solid, square, wooden chair, it’s legs bolted to the foor. Her legs were wide, her shins and ankles wrapped around the chair legs, the toes of the severe white high heels just barely touching the ground. He could see her trying to close her legs, but the incredibly tight rope around her knees and ankles didn’t give a manometer.
Her arms were wrenched behind her, her wrists and elbows tied viciously to the opposite sides of the chair back. It was a masterpiece of rope bondage. Her shoulders, neck, upper chest, and waist were also wrapped with unbelievably tight rope, affxed to the chair back. She couldn’t nod, shrug, or bow.
Instead, she had to sit there, her green eyes huge, her glorious red hair fanned out, as he stared at her amazing black gag. It was like a skintight leather bustier for her face. It started just below her nostrils, cupping her cheeks like breasts. A pear gag distended her mouth, but the gag’s “neckline” sealed her lips in. It molded to her chin and covered the top third of her throat. It was tightly strapped, with three buckles, at the nape of her neck.
His eyes moved down her body with glittering appreciation. She had been dressed in the tightest, lowest cut cheerleading outft his mother could fnd. The v-necked sweater stuck to her, showcasing her pert, round tits. There was at least an inch of fesh between the sweater and the skirt. The skirt was pure white, with tight pleats, and just long enough to cover her crotch. To complete the picture were white lace socks.
She was a cheerleader for the University of Sex.
She screamed, moaned, sweated, and choked as he approached. She rolled her eyes, trying to look away, as he pulled the v-neck aside, revealing the white lace, underwire, push-up bra sinking into her fesh.
He let the sweater go, and curled a fnger under her skirt hem. Melissa shook as he raised it to see the simple plastic vibrator lodged in her cunt. She couldn’t get off the chair high enough to let it slide out. Now her sounds were sobbing, begging ones.
“Happy to oblige,” he said, starting to undo her knee ropes.
His mother didn’t hear or see him leave. But when the neighbors fnally went home, she checked his handiwork. Melissa was still on the chair, but not in the same position. Now her arms were together, tied from the elbows to her wrists. They were still hanging over thee back of the chair, however -- only this time, a tight rope stretched from her wrists to her ankles under the seat.
Her ankles were crossed and tied, as were her knees. She was stretched like a little bow across the chair, a rope around her throat, just under her chin, keeping her head back against the chair top. The gag was still in place, but the sweater was gone -- one sleeve tied around her eyes as a blindfold. The bra was pulled back just enough so the cup edges dug into her pink, erect nipples.
The skirt was still on, but the vibrator lay at her feet. He didn’t want anything between her and his semen. He had undone her knee ropes, pulled her hips forward so her cunt lips rested on the edge of the seat, and forced his shaft all the way inside her. He had fucked her that way -- her arms and ankles wrenched back, her back bent, and her tits aching toward the ceiling.
Melissa moaned, cried, and shook. Dana just lay there, still hanging spread-eagled from the ceiling, her head still covered by the gag hood. The only evidence that be had been there was that half her dress was gone. Most of the skirt had been cut off, so now she wore a micro-mini skirt which just barely covered her silky brown tuft. Her v-neck bodice had been ripped open, so the cloth just barely covered her round brown aureoles.
There was a small damp stain on the foor mattresses just below her hips. He had stood between her legs, placed his cock crown at her crotch, then pulled her onto him. He just kept doing it, no matter how she arched her back, pulled at her arms, or tried to kick. Her hip bones, the sweep of her thighs, and her ass were practically handles for him. It was so much fun he only occasionally felt the need to reach around the waist strap, and fll his hands with her tits.
But no matter how tight and juicy she was, those rich, thick pendulous orbs could not be denied. Even now, the old woman very slowly, very carefully slipped her hand into Dana’s shirt, and smiled as she squeezed. Not even Dana heard her long, agonized, answering moan.
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