Disbelief (4)

With Duncan gone, he had her all to himself. Her tit, dear gods above and below, her tit was hanging out of the corset. His fingers were nearly sweating, his tongue wanted to hang out. Wondering if he would see giant googly-eyes peering back if he glanced in the mirror, he took a moment to get his excitement under control. Having the opportunity to have Amanda under his hands was not one to be squandered. He paced around her, noting her arms were trembling faintly, that her breath was unsteady. Behind her, he reached up, taking her wrists.

“Something different now, pet,” he crooned. Crossing them behind her, he ordered her to stay, crossing the room to where racks of rope rested. He selected a somewhat thinner hemp rope that would be uncomfortable, itchy, hard to ignore. Folding a length in half, he quickly crafted a rolling hitch, slipping it around her left wrist, before tugging it tight. Another hitch stopped the slider, preventing harm, yet holding the noose taut. Creating a second loop, pulling it over her other wrist before sliding the rest of the length through it, he drew her wrists together. She moaned as the rope tugged roughly against tender skin. Dropping the remainder of the rope, he lifted the other breast free of the corset. Over her shoulder he saw the stream of spittle glistening on her fat tits.

“Dirty slut, you’re drooling everywhere.”

Her head tossed, as unintelligible words came from around the gag. Silently now he paced around her, once, twice. He knew she didn’t know where he was, knew it was unnerving her. His finger flicked sharply against her nipple. A short squeak of surprise, a shudder were the expected responses. She didn’t disappoint. Again he paced, picking up one of Duncan’s toys as he circled around her. The noise from others at play around him were just pleasing background sounds. A slap against flesh, a grunt, a moan, whimpers, all part of the pain-filled, alluring, arousing music of people at play. The quick slap-slap of the crop against the top of her tits merged with the sounds; her moans added a sweet descant. He slapped until her skin began to pinken, until a round purple bruise formed near her left nipple. The hard thrust of those nubs left no doubt that the slut was deeply aroused.

Bending, he retrieved the rope from the floor, and began to draw the rough length around the hot flesh of her tits. Each wrap of the hemp drew moans from her, while occasional quivers made his own libido click ever higher. His cock grew harder with every little shudder. Looping the last ends up and around her neck, securing the final ties, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. Two large purpling orbs thrust up and away from her corset. Slapping, gripping, he felt the smooth tight skin, every swipe of his hands making her mewl in response.

“Tender, hmm?”

Her nod of assent came quickly.

“Then it’s really going to hurt when I paddle them, I guess?”

Her moan was low and gurgling. He stepped behind her as he chuckled, releasing the ballgag, letting it fall around her neck like a sodden necklace. Leaning close, he whispered in her ear.

“I want to hear it when you scream.”



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