Plaything 25



free rope bondage Bondage stories 2011 archive


Oswald held his hands up in mock innocence.
"Just don`t fuck her," Calvin said. "Don`t you fuck her." He went down the
stairs quickly as Oswald looked down at Kirby. He sighed, and sat down on the
bed. The Rowlands sat on either side of the groggy girl.
Calvin went across the living room and opened the front door. It was Bobby,
Kirby`s bartender friend. "What do you want?"
"I



theft auto."
"You bastard!" Bobby exclaimed.
Kirby started gasping, the ball in her mouth cutting off a lion`s share of her
air. When Bobby didn`t respond to her cries, she tried to sit up. It was a major
effort, her head snapping back and forth between looking at Oswald and looking
at Audrey. They didn`t do anything-- just sat and watched her progress calmly.
Kirby managed to sit at the edge of the bed, her eyes widening at the sight of
her panties tied at her knees. Then she stared at the slice in her neckline and
hem. She started to make little wailing noises, pulling at her wrist bonds. She
would lean over at the waist, bawling, then sit up to gasp in more air, then
lean over again.
Downstairs, Calvin shrugged. "Hey, I tried my best, buddy boy. I tried to act
like a father to her, but she never gave me a chance. But you must know what
that`s like. She never gave anybody a chance.
Bobby had to stare into space again. Boy, was that ever right.
Kirby carefully placed her high-heeled feet down on the bedroom carpet and
started to maneuver her weight forward. She had to hold her breath to get the
strength. She pulled her butt across the bedclothes to the very edge of the
mattress. The Rowlands watched her diffidently.
Kirby hauled herself up, her arms bending, pain from her tightly bound wrists
shooting through her.
She couldn`t get the breath to do anything but stand. She teetered beside the
bed, her back to her strangely uninvolved audience. Turning her head to the
left, she started to take careful, panty-constricted steps away.
"Face it, Bobby boy," said Calvin downstairs. "She`s gone. She took what she
needed and left."
Kirby began to get the hang of it. Her steps became more rapid. And with each
step, she got her wind back. Her strength grew. She turned around the edge of
the bed and headed for her bedroom door. She began to cry out again, repeatedly.
"Yeah," said Bobby, mostly to himself. "I guess so. Man, what a bitch." He
wasn`t really aware of the double entendre.
Kirby was doing a little shuffling run for her door, making tiny shrieking
noises, when Oswald suddenly whipped himself around, bounced across the
mattress, and came up along side her.
Kirby got off her loudest screech of the afternoon just as Oswald wrapped his
an-n around her head and held her to him by her mouth.
Downstairs, Calvin almost whipped his head around at the creaking sound from
downstairs, but he stopped just in time. Instead, he looked at Bobby, who was
still staring off in the distance. "You said it, brother," he told him quietly.
Oswald smiled beneficently over at Kirby, whose face was scrunched around his
hand. She was forced to lean against him, her fingers scratching at his torso,
as he kept her moving to the bedroom door.
He "accompanied" her into the hallway, "chaperoning" her to the head of the
stairs. They stood there, Kirby moving like a frisky, unsure colt, as Oswald
held his hand tightly over her balled mouth.
"You wanted to say something?" he whispered. "Well, go ahead. Say it." Then,
incredibly, he took his fingers from her lips
Kirby stared at him in fear and amazement. He was back to being the indifferent
audience. He just looked back at her, eyes veiled.



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