Plaything 10



free rope bondage Bondage stories 2011 archive


"Thank god," she babbled wanly. "You can`t do this. You`ve got to let me go. I
can`t take any more of this. You`ve got to ... !" But then Oswald was behind
her, holding her arms, and Audrey was practically sitting on her lap, pressing
the thick, drug-soaked cloth pad over the teacher`s lower face with both hands.
Justine jerked against Oswald once, twice, three times-- crying into the cloth
in rage and despair. The man had made her corne again with a judicious use of
agony and ecstasy while Audrey had finished the parent conference.
He had kept thrusting his prick all the way inside her, but had used his hands
to gently excite her tits and clit. The body had surged like an animal`s, while
the fingers had manipulated like an artist`s.
They would lightly dance across her breasts, just missing the pinioned nipples,
but hitting nerves she never knew she had. And while his cock slammed into her
like a piledriver, his other fingers scratched, nipped, pressed, and massaged
her clitoris, making her blind, deaf, and dumb.
She felt the vibrations building inside her as if she were being wired for
electricity. Sweat dripped off her; drool coursed down her. She wasn`t aware of
the frenetic noises she made. She felt the orgasm start as a tremor inside her.
It shook all her muscles with growing intensity, then imploded.
By then she was leaning all the way back, holding most of his upper torso
weight. She hardly felt it. Her body had become one big wound some time ago. She
vibrated in her ropes like a ringing bell.
Oswald pushed his penis all the way home and crushed her to him until her quakes
subsided. Only then did he pull down her bra and play absentmindedly with her
tits while she hung semi-conscious, the back of her head drooping in the toilet.
The horrible memory flooded back into Justine as the drug did its work. She felt
her brain neutralized. Audrey held the cloth over her lax face even after Oswald
undid the elbow strap and yanked the cotton shirt off.
"Give it to me," Audrey instructed. Only then did she take the pad off Justine`s
face. With both hands, she tore off the sleeve and started balling it up. Oswald
pulled out the first surprise, holding it up to Justine`s lolling head.
"Tape," he said. They had found it in the art room. It was the sticky, shiny
white kind. Then he pulled out the next surprise. "Rubber bands." They had taken
a whole box from her desk drawer. Finally he whipped out the T-shirt.
"School spirit," he concluded. It was a small, gray shirt with the school`s name
and emblem.
"Perfect," Audrey smiled, before starting to stuff the balled white cotton shirt
sleeve into Justine`s numbed mouth. Fifteen minutes later, they came out of the
classroom. In those fifteen minutes, Justine had regained full consciousness--
but in an ordeal of increasing regret. She wished her senses had stayed deadened
as they had prepared her. The stronger she got, the worse her predicament
became.

From a distance it didn`t look so awful. Certainly the strips of white tape
covered her lower face-- from
just under her nose to just over her jaw. Certainly her elbows were restrapped
behind her, but her wrists were unbound. They were merely held by the brother
and sister, one on each side of her.
Her cotton shirt was gone, but she wore a new one-the school shirt, which
adhered to her tightly, being two sizes too small. It left almost three inches



of her midriff uncovered. But at least they had pulled her skirt off her hips.
They had smoothed and cut it so the hem was just below her crotch. They had also
left her stockings and shoes on. So why was her face so screwed up in pain? Why
did she move so gingerly? Why were her steps so small? Why did her breasts move
so oddly beneath the shirt?
The rubber bands.
For the millionth time she opened her mouth, distending her jaw, trying to force
the balled shirt sleeve off her tongue. But under the tape, under her hair,
between her lips, the rubber bands Audrey had snapped there kept the padding in
tight-- digging into her skin.
For the thousandth time, Justine arched her back, trying to make at least one of
the rubber bands they snapped around the base of her tits pop ff. The orbs were
squeezed, getting red and purple, the nipples hard, full, and pointing. Their
sensitivity was increased a dozen fold. Every time they scraped against her
shirt was like nails on the blackboard of her mind.
For the hundredth time, Justine took a step. The rubber bands around her ankles,
twisted so each was in a separate loop, kept her from running. Finally, for the
tenth time, Justine moved her hips. She groaned pleadingly to her captors. Her
hands twisted in their grip as they shepherded her forward.
On the closest of inspections, flesh-colored rubber bands could be seen digging
into Justine`s waist, just above her skirt`s waistline. What couldn`t be seen
was how other rubber bands had been affixed to those-knotted under her navel so
they swept down, through her cunt lips, in her crack, and affixed to the rubber
bands going horizontally across her back.
They were super tight and super thin-- crueler than any rope could be.
They moved her forward, like chaperones for the prom queen. They kept her slow,
painful progress down the darkened school hall, holding her wrists just above
her clawing hands. She grunted with each step, twisting and undulating then
sucked air into her nostrils to gain the strength for the next step-her back
arching with each inhalation-
Finally they emerged into the school`s main hallway. Justine



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