She wriggled her hands and pulled her arms, but the metal cuffs only clicked and held her

Mar 28

wriggled in bondage

The girl remained motionless. She waited for the penis to soften and diminish. It did not. She started to twist and bend, trying to throw herself off the violation. The leverage was not good. The angle wasn’t right. Her most powerful try only succeeded in raising her half up his member. Then she only sank down on it again.

She groaned, drool unavoidably collecting behind her teeth and dripping over her lower lip onto the man’s stomach. She wriggled her hands and pulled her arms, but the metal cuffs only clicked and held her. She looked down at her exquisite body held by the delicate black lace. For a fleeting second, her mind told her Peter was right. The groupies were right. She had been asking for this. She deserved this. She was nothing but a cocktease bitch.

Terri howled in the night. A burbling gasp was all that emerged from behind her gag, but it was enough.

They were wrong. She knew with a greater conviction than she had ever felt before that they were wrong. Just because she was beautiful was no reason for her to be punished. She was not responsible for others’ lusts. She did not deserve this. She was their victim, their captive, but not their slave. Not yet. Not so long as she could stem the guilt for being beautiful.

She accepted her predicament. She could not fight it. She prepared herself to sit on Eddie’s hard-on all night. She relaxed when she felt it diminish. Her relief was chilled when it rose again.

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