Mary Jane in cage | russian, trapped | illustrated bondage stories

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Mary Jane in cage

Shards of fuzzy consciousness grew in Mary Jane's mind, to the point that she couldn't dismiss them as a confusing, alarming dream any longer—something round and hard was filling her mouth, and her arms were trapped behind her back, encased in something very tight and unyielding, And that disorienting sense of floating in space also seemed to be real—the raven-haired beauty realized that she was standing in a narrow wire cage that swayed gently as it hung just off the cold, bare floor.

" Ah! You are coming along, my darling!"

That garbled idiom, delivered in a rich Russian accent, also seemed familiar: Anastasia, co-owner of Global Delights, strutted toward her. Mary Jane had to blink rapidly—the dark-haired woman appeared to be daubed head-to-toe in shiny black as her skyscraper heels clacked on the hard floor, their sharp ring echoing off the cavernous walls.

“You poor pretty— you not remember much after you run into office in—how you say?—dizzy?"

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Tizzy, Mary Jane corrected her silently, woozily, as the dim recollection of rushing into Anastasia's office with startling news of large amounts of hidden income within the modest import-export company now flickered in her still-hazy memory.

"Da, I slip the roofie into your calm-down drink, darling!" the Russian admitted coyly. "Then I dress you into fun sex outfit for buyers including—" Mary Jane moaned as Anastasia slid her hand through the wire bars and between her legs. “—Plug in your lady holes have little vibrator to keep you wanting during trip!” Mary Jane moaned again as Anastasia pressed her nimble fingers into her crotch for emphasis.

My God—a roofie! No wonder I don't recall a—how tong have I—wait—what "buyers?"

"I hire you to just look over store—but you stumble into operation," the ravenhaired Russian went on. “If you man, I kill you. But you girl, so you merchandise now. Besides—" Anastasia beamed as she stood up. “—You too sexy to be bookkeeper—you make better sex slave with such long legs and giving body, my pretty katyonak!"

"Waigh! Doan leef mee—pleeth!" pleaded Mary Jane as Anastasia strutted across the deserted warehouse floor to the far door, but all she received was a derisive chuckle and an insouciant wave before she was left alone, locked into her tiny cage suspended from the high ceiling.

"Unnnngh!" the trapped beauty grunted as the plugs nestled in her pussy and up her bottom suddenly buzzed to life. Writhing and squirming within her confinement, Mary Jane heard the clacking of her ankle boots on the narrow wooden slat of the cage bottom as she reacted to the intimate stimulation, her arms twisting in futility in the tight single glove that imprisoned them as she bit down on the ball-gag strapped into her mouth that, as Anastasia had told her, had been soaked in a solution of Nembutal and Ecstasy, which Mary Jane had been swallowing involuntarily during her lonely, terrifying transition from the tedium of accounting.

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