Bound Beauties 23



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Paula held one up on her arm, showing it to Claudia proudly. It was of a
cartoon
character, his face contorted in a look of shock and surprise. "Come on, dear,"
Paula said. "Time to put on your face."
George the desk man looked up as the trio came out of the manager`s office.
What
was that? he wondered, trying to see around everybody else in the lobby. Oh,
just another trio of revelers having their usual fun. Hmmm. That one on the end
might be the new manager. Oh well, who was to say she couldn`t join in the
festivities as well? He had to admit the place was still running like clockwork
even after Ms. Alien`s departure.
It was a girl in a cartoon mask, sandwiched by a man and a woman in Oriental
masks. The man held her by the girl`s hands and around the girl`s shoulders.
Well, lucky them. By the looks of the body in that white dress, the girl was
quite a looker. George shrugged and went back to work. As soon as another guest
arrived to register, he forgot all about the trio.
The street outside was madness. Masters and Paula were able to hold onto their
cowering charge without so much as a curious look. Plenty of looks, sure, but
no
curious ones. Leering, lustful ones instead, at the sweet dress and the sweet,
curvaceous thing inside.
"Where we going?" Paula asked, having to lean across Claudia and raise her
voice
to be heard.
"To my car," said the Procurer. "In the lot at the end of the street."
Paula looked at the chaos around them, grinning. "No problem," she decided.
They
tightened their grips on Claudia and started off.
They held her hands. Their muscular fingers were wrapped among her dainty ones
and they gripped, twisted, and pushed them in near-judo holds. Claudia was not
only intimidated by fear, but by pain as well. Her captors` other arms went
around her shoulders or around her waist, depending on what was needed.
She stared through the mask`s eye holes with increasing despair. She had tried
to hold back, to balk, to fight them, but now she saw all sorts of people
lurching down the street. Her lurching would not create undue suspicion. She
thought of crying out, but the roar of the crowd was gigantic, not to mention
the added noise of music coming from everywhere.
They turned the corner onto the main thoroughfare. Claudia lost all hope. It
was
just like the street outside the hotel, only three times as crowded and three
times as loud. The street was literally wall-to-wall people, all drinking, all
hooting, all hollering, and all surging like ships on a churning sea.
The only respite from the great unwashed was on the second-floor balconies of
these historical French Quarter buildings, where wealthier citizens could look
down upon the masses. They also followed tradition by throwing trinkets,
plastic
necklaces mostly, to the crowd.



Claudia stiffened in her captors` grip. There, on the second floor balcony to
the far right, were the other Miss Bouillabaisse contestants. They were in
their
party best, looking like a rainbow of femininity, throwing Miss Bouillabaisse
buttons to the throng.
The crowd was going crazy. They, also in time-honored fashion, were screaming
for the ladies to "show them something else." You see, at Mardi Gras time, it
was also semi-traditional for all sorts of lubricated lovelies to open their
shirts and lift their skirts for the ongoing good of the public at large.
"Perfect," said the Procurer, grinning. "Just perfect. Let`s go." On a count of
three, holding onto Claudia, they pushed their way into the crowd.
It was wall to wall, shoulder to shoulder, every man, woman, and captive for
himself. Claudia mewed, moaned, and grunted as she was thrust inch by inch,
foot
by foot, through the human Jell-O, completely helpless within the mob.
She shrank back from those who turned in anger when she was pushed against
them,
only to see them undress her with their eyes (her breasts heaving).
They had gotten through a third of the crowd when she felt the first pinch.
Someone had pinched her ass. She jerked and groaned. Masters and Paula jerked
her warningly in return.
Then came another hand. Not pinching this time. Fondling. Fondling her ass.
It was quick this first time. But when she didn`t (couldn`t!) react, the hand
returned, lingering this time, flat against her ass cheek.
That did it. Words, unheard, rippled through the crowd. "The girl is hot, pass
it on."
That`s all they needed. After being whipped into a frenzy by the contestants,
they were all ready to cop a feel. .. any feel.
More hands appeared and disappeared without Masters and Nussbaum being aware of
them.
They came and went like the passing wind, just some of many limbs, all moving
before the trio`s eyes.
Wentworth started to scream into her gag, her head shaking, as the hands became
more bold. Her captors ignored her struggles, pulling her along harder. The
hands plucked at her skirt. They went up her leg. Finally, fingers touched the
flesh of her ass.
She didn`t have any underwear on. Her captors hadn`t dressed her in any.
The ripple effect returned. Louder, stronger words were passed on. The hands
now
came at her from all sides.
Seeming accidents they were, completely innocent. Oops, a hand went up her
skirt. Oops, a hand grabbed her ass. oops, a hand snuck up in between her legs.
Oops, a hand slipped into her ass crack. Big oops. A hand just barely touched
her cunt.
Now Claudia surged forward, trying to pull her captors on, screaming into her
gag to look, look! Please stop this! Let me out of here! The irony was too much
for her: her rescuers had turned into more oppressors.
Masters finally realized what was going on. He realized these weren`t just
innocent jostlings. He saw the hands pulling up the skirt and diving under. But
then, to Claudia`s horror, instead of pushing them away or moving faster, he
pulled the girl back, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and started untying the top of her dress.



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