The place was a simple two-story tract house with a finished basement on a normal suburban street that ran parallel to a main thoroughfare full of mini-malls, big-box stores, and chain restaurants. BDSM Art is here.
In fact, the first thing Claire saw, when her big, wide, eyes opened, was a home goods store in the late afternoon sun. That vision gave way to trees, then houses, and finally a two-car garage at the end of a driveway.
Claire’s popping brown eyes shot down to see that her breasts were barely contained by the way her torn shirt was knotted together, her chest flesh bulging out the top, sides, and bottom. What remained of her pleated skirt was pinned at her right hip, becoming little more than a plaid loincloth. Her leggings were m.i.a. but her high heel ankle boots were still tightly covering her feet. She saw the expertly secured straps at her ankles and knees. She could feel the cords at her wrists and elbows.
“You’re supple,” he giggled. “You can put your arms together behind your back as easy as pie. Can’t wait to try a reverse prayer on you….”
She tried to plead with her voice, hands, and body, but all she accomplished was making her tits protrude even more.
“Now, now, don’t beg,” he soothed. “I’ll fuck you again soon enough, I promise.”
Claire slammed back as far away from him as she could, screeching with all her might, tears all but exploding out of her eyes. He just laughed, pulling the van into the garage. He touched the button on the box clipped to the window-shade, and the garage door started lowering behind them. Suddenly Claire realized that she was well and truly trapped, but before the full import could sink in, he was gone, and the driver’s side door was slamming shut. 3D BDSM stories are here!