Forced Bondage Pussy Eating
I can’t resist! Here’s another excerpt from The Green Door. There are worse things than an unwelcome lesbian kiss, when you’re all tied up:
Tara took Betsy’s face gently in both hands and kissed her on her full pink lips. This time Betsy didn’t try to consider what her reaction should be. She pulled back and turned her head away.
“No please, don’t!”
Tara turned Betsy’s face to her. “Now Betsy, now you’ve really pissed me off. Kneel!”
Betsy lowered herself quickly to the floor and stared a a spot in the thick carpet just in front of Tara’s feet. Tara stood very still for a moment, then spoke to Robert.
“I’m going to need a pole, Robert.”
Robert rose and opened yet another of the many cabinets. Betsy ventured a look as Robert removed a three foot chrome plated pole. It had threads on one end. He walked near to the wall with the eyebolts and screwed it into a plate counter-sunk into the floor. Meanwhile Tara had made a trip to the supply side of the room herself. Stood behind Betsy now and went about her task. The first implement was as the others, leather. A four inch wide collar was buckled around Betsy’s neck. It was designed to keep the head erect, and the slightly wider parts on the left and right sides made turning her head nearly impossible. With great relief Betsy felt Tara remove the strap holding her arms in their now painful position.
“Go over to the pole.” Betsy began to rise in obedience but Tara’s hand on her head prevented her. “On your knees!”
Robert guided her to the desired position. Her back was placed firmly against the pole. A second pair of handcuffs were placed around her ankles. A padlock secured the pair on her wrists to the pair on her ankles. Tara stood before Betsy now with a second padlock. Gently now Tara reached behind Betsy’s head to secure a grip on the ‘D’ ring at the back of the collar. She smiled brightly in to Betsy’s face as she forced her head back and down to meet with the eye bolt welded to the top of the pole. The padlock clicked into place.
Tara stood back and inspected the girl. “I love that position. Take a look, dear.”
With some effort, Betsy inched her head around to see herself in the mirrored wall. She could see why Tara liked her this way: her arms were taut by virtue of being attached by the wrist to her ankle cuffs. She was forced to bow her back considerably to afford her neck being attached to the pole with no leeway. Her firm breasts jutted up toward the ceiling and her beautifully proportioned pelvis was now the forward most part of her body. She looked back at Tara now with a little trepidation. “She’s goin to beat me! My God, I can’t take that! This has to stop…”
Tara stands before her now, freezing her thoughts. She clinches her eyes shut waiting for the first blow. Nothing. She ventures a breath, two, three, four. Nothing. Silence. Now a scent. Now a bit stronger. Her eyes open to a wall of leather one inch from her nose. Tara’s skirt. Tara’s grin looks A lot like Robert’s from Betsy’s perspective. Now Betsy realizes what Tara plans! Without a word Tara unzips first the right zipper then the left. Another step places her over Betsy’s upturned face. “Now my dear, you’re going to make me cum.”
Betsy knew that struggling was useless, but she struggled anyway. The scent of leather was replaced now by the faintly musky odor of Tara’s womanhood. Betsy opened her eyes and was confronted with a perfectly trimmed pubic mount of jet black hair. Tara’s thighs, firm and strong closed on each side of Betsy’s head preventing even the
modicum of movement allowed by the collar…
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