Bound Beauties 9



free rope bondage Bondage stories 2011 archive


"Feel that?" asked Paula. "Feel that good. I can`t do much of that. Can`t mark
up your face .. . too much. The man wouldn`t like that. He likes your faces
unblemished." Paula dropped Rebecca`s chin and grabbed her throat, pushing her
back against the chair.
"But you`d be surprised what I would do without marking your face. You`d be
surprised...." She yanked upwards, then slammed Rebecca down on the seat. Paula
instantly kneeled and pushed the girl`s skirt hem up over the thigh ropes.
Rebecca shifted in the chair in shock, trying to cover her thighs, but Paula
was
quicker. The woman stabbed her fingernails through Rebecca`s shirt, into her
abused right tit.
Rebecca screeched and hunched, stiffening in place. Paula went back to the
thigh
ropes as if doing simple seamstress work.
"Now, now, now," she said. "No trouble, no struggling, none of that. You can
save that for him. He likes that. I don`t." She took off the ropes, standing up
quickly.
"You and me have got to come to a little understanding," she said calmly before
grabbing Rebecca by the hair and pulling her to her high-heeled shoes. The
woman
had secured the captive on her own two feet before the pain cleared from
Rebecca`s eyes. Paula`s hands rested solidly on Rebecca`s shoulders, holding
them the way a coach might face a valued player.
"Look at that, now," she said, motioning down, with her head. "See that?" she
asked about her own shoes. Rebecca saw that they were actually extremely tight,
extremely high, with extreme stiletto heels.
"Four inches," Paula informed him. "I love `em. Do you love your shoes?"
Rebecca
still tottered on her three-inch heels.
There was something about the way Paula had asked the question that made
Rebecca
want to answer. Yeah, she did love her shoes in spite of the pain and effort
they caused her. Why else would she wear three-inch heels? But she was
intimidated (now there`s an understatement) and couldn`t figure out why Paula
was asking. Best not to antagonize her or compete with her.
Rebecca shook her head no. Paula hit her in the stomach.
Rebecca doubled over, that area still tender from the kicks the Procurer had
given it. But then Paula`s hands were back in Rebecca`s hair, wrenching her
straight.
She was around the captive in a twinkling, one arm over her shoulder, between
her breasts, and the other arm around Rebecca`s waist. Her squishy tits were
mashed again Rebecca`s arms and back, and her right leg was slightly bent,
rammed between Rebecca`s legs.
"Wrong answer," she whispered to the quivering, gasping girl. "You love your
shoes. You love them because he loves them. From now on, you love whatever he
loves, and he loves everything about you." Her hands moved across her.
"He loves your pretty, unblemished face and your smooth neck," she said,
caressing them. "He loves your squeezably soft mounds." She squeezed. Rebecca
groaned, head going back under Paula`s neck.
"And your tight waist and your curving hips, and your shapely legs. ..." The
hands moved down the body, molding it. "And your deep, smelly, dripping cunt."
Long fingers snaked beneath the skirt, beneath the pantyhose, and to the dark red curly crotch hair. Rebecca squealed and tried to pull away, Paula cuffed
her
on the side of the head, propelling her onto her side to the mattress.
"Perfect shot," she considered.



Rebecca dimly heard her captor`s white high heels clacking on the wood floor
away from her as she tried to catch her breath and regain some sort of focus.
Her hands were all but lost to her now, just dead hunks of meat on the ends of
her tingling arms. Her voice? Well, forget it. The thing inside her mouth made
her feel as if she had been born mute.
"Yes, I love my shoes," Paula announced, returning from the kitchen with a
knife
in her hands. "I can run in them, I can dance in them, and I can even kick in
them." She proved it by putting her toe into Rebecca`s solar plexus. The girl
curled up into a fetal ball on the mattress, groaning. Paula kneeled beside her
and started cutting off her clothes.
"Why, I could ice skate in these things," Paula chattered, throwing open
Rebecca`s shirt and cutting the bra straps. "I could run down a frozen mountain
in them." She slit the black skirt all the way down the side. Rebecca was just
getting her air back, the skirt coming off as she stretched.
Paula shook her head at the pantyhose. "Tsk, tsk," she said. "This won`t do at
all."
Outside the house, a low, insistent hum could be heard. But there was no one
there to hear it. It was four o`clock in the morning and all the good boys and
girls were in bed. All the bad boys and girls were far away from their beds.
Either way, no one heard on that street at that time.
Inside the house, a shapely little naked girl, whose hair was in red, dripping
ringlets around her head, sat straining in the wooden chair. Her mouth was
still
full of the plastic device, but her hands were given a minor break. They were
no
longer tied behind her. They were tied, by their red, raw wrists, to the chair
arms.
A tall, strong, naked lady was drying the seated girl`s hair with an electric
blower. Paula had dried all of Rebecca with the blower shortly after forcing
her
into the bath tub in the first place. Everything had been cut from her by then,
even her necklace. She lay in the tub as Paula turned | on the shower.
The Amazonian laughed as Rebecca struggled. Laughed as she untied the girl and
got into the tub with her. Laughed at Rebecca`s feeble attempts to fight back
as
she was lathered and rinsed off.
"See?" Paula had trumpeted, holding the slippery girl to her. "See? No hands,
ma!" She was wearing her white heels in the tub.
Rebecca had broken free and Paula had backhanded her across the face. The wet
skin only made it sting worse. Rebecca nearly fell out of the tub, but Paula
caught her. She rolled Rebecca out instead, onto the bath mat where she landed
with a sopping thud. Paula hopped out, kicked off her shoes, and pulled off her
shoes. Then she had gathered Rebecca in her arms (
the other bending the captive`s arm up her back).



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