Bound Beauties 28



free rope bondage Bondage stories 2011 archive


Over the loud agreement of the others, the cheering that made Honey start to
cry, Muriel spoke clearly: "Mother." "Y-yes, dear?"
"Find Miss Thompkins`s room key. Then go into her room and bring back all her
contest clothes. Hold her!" Muriel had to warn as Honey started writhing in
earnest in reaction. "Yes, dear," said Muriel`s mother.
They held her until she got back, her arms filled with gowns and bathing suits.
The people in the halls were having too much fun or were too soused to notice
her.
"Mother," said Muriel. "Give us something to tie her with."
Beryl looked at the helpless girl on the bed, then at the beautiful material in
her hands. She began to smile, getting into the spirit of the thing. "Yes,
dear.
With pleasure, dear."
Honey squealed when Beryl Cummings tore her evening gown. She continued to cry
and struggle as the strips were used to tightly bind her wrists wide to the bed
posts over her head. Muriel kept them pulling on the knots until Honey squealed
from the pressure.
"There!" she said. "All right. Somebody take this bitch`s lips." A girl from
Honey`s right arm kneeled beside the blond`s head, ready to take over. "And
watch it," Muriel warned. "The bitch bites."
"Use this, dear," Beryl suggested, handing over the damp sock. The girl placed
it tight over Honey`s mouth and pushed down, the blond`s head sinking into the
pillow.
"Okay," said Muriel, going around to kneel between Honey`s legs. "Hold tight,
ladies." The extra arm girl went to help with Honey`s right leg. "Mother," said
Muriel, "help with the other leg, would you?"
"Yes, dear." With two ladies on each leg, Muriel carefully lowered herself and
touched
Honey`s panties experimentally.
Honey screamed and bucked and writhed. Muriel looked around.
"Everybody okay?" The others nodded, holding onto the beauty`s ankles like
contestants in a tug of war. Muriel looked up at the girl on Honey`s shaking
head. "Sit on her chest, dear," Muriel suggested. "That`ll be better." The girl
did as suggested. "Now," said Muriel. "That wasn`t so bad, was it?"
The roar from outside and the music from inside continued undaunted. Muriel
turned back to the work at hand and pushed her two fingers against the pink
panties. More squeals, more writhing, but the Kennel held on.
"Good," said their leader. "We`re going in." And with one arm around Honey`s
hips, Muriel pushed the panties into the blond`s own crack and started rutting
in earnest.
Honey contorted on the bed as if they were drilling her teeth. But all held on
as Muriel stimulated her, soaking the panties.
"Okay, now we`ve got it," she said. Honey collapsed as the fingers stopped, but
then screamed, her head trying to rise, as Muriel tore the panties from her
hips. Her hands twisted i the gown bonds, but the things held tight.
Her trimmed thatch of golden cunt hair was exposed, her pink vagina clearly
seen
beneath it.



"Look out," Muriel seethed, leaping forward. She landed beside Honey`s head and
pushed the gagger away. Honey screamed up at the girl, but the girl plunged the
soiled panties in the blond`s mouth anyway. The cry was choked off in a
gurgling
rattle.
Muriel used both hands, thumbs pressing, to force the cloth in. "Mother,
Mother,
quick," she panted. "Another strip of gown. A long one." Mother Beryl ripped it
off and handed it towards her. Honey`s body began to shake with more strength.
"Sit on her leg," Muriel instructed the one on Honey`s left limb. "Push down on
the knee and sit on it."
She grabbed the gown strip while still holding the panty in, then jammed the
cloth over the panty, between Honey`s teeth. "Hold her head up, Mother. Come
on,
help me get her head up."
Together, mother and daughter gagged the blond, pulling her hair out of the way
for a tighter knot. The panty was forced deep in her mouth, the gown strip
holding down her tongue. Her lips were pulled back from the pressure.
"Aww," said Muriel, caressing her face. "Little pussy-wussy don`t look so
pretty
now, do she?" Honey yelled up at her, her words mangled.
"Now don`t talk like that," the daughter said, walking back, her knees on
either
side of Honey`s torso. "Mommy-wommy don`t like it when you talk like that."
She reached down, put her fingers, upside down, in either side of the dress`s
chest hole, gripped, and ripped. The dress tore. Not easily, but it tore.
Honey`s rich, ripe breasts were free, the perfect round aureolas (pink,
naturally) and perfect button nipples revealed.
Muriel grabbed them, one in each hand, and ground them as if spinning a
combination lock. "Ooh, nice," Muriel said. "Nice." Then she seemed to get
bored
and just hopped off the girl.
"Come on, ladies," she said, "we`ve got work to do."
They fell on her like vultures on a lamb.
Rebecca Alien was at attention. Her facial expression drifted between rapt
attention and sensual confusion, her eyes half closing. Her legs, standing
wise,
vibrated.
All she wore was a white garter belt, flesh-colored stockings, and black
three-inch high-heel T-strap shoes. Her arms were behind her, bent up at her
back, each wrist tied to each other shoulder.
The rubber-coated wire went over her shoulder and under her arm, forcing her
wrists to rest against her shoulder blades. Her right wrist was at her left
shoulder and her left wrist was at her right shoulder.
There was more wire at her ankles, holding her feet down and wide, attached to
rings bolted in the floor. Her only gag was a ring under her teeth, forcing her
mouth wide, strapped behind her head, under her red hair. It let the Procurer
hear every sound she made.
Her red lips, glistening with new moisturizer Paula had applied, moved. She
gurgled, her fingers fluttered. Her leg muscles spasmed again. She was standing
on the pole she had been leashed to earlier. She was impaled upon its rounded
top, through her vaginal lips. It went up seven and a half inches inside her.



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