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As she lay face down on the bed, her legs spread wide, she wondered what would happen next, what he would do next. He had done a lot already. Her arms bound behind her back, her elbows pulled together, hard and touching. A rope from her wrists to the metal headboard of the bed, forcing her into an upward arch. Duct tape gagged. That sweet spot between her legs - that already wet sweet spot - very accessible. That same spot that she ties to rub against the bed. She knows what she wants him to do next.
Those would have been her last words to him. If she could have said them. If he could have heard her. But the strip of thet nasty duct tape across her lips kept her from making nearly any noise. Anything except that moaning sound. Which said to him that she was enjoying what he was doing to do. Laying on the bed, her wrists, ankles and upper body bound. Hogtied. Struggling hard, rolling around on the bed. Yet unable to escape. She probably would have said one more thing. That he would have enjoyed hearing.
She craves it. She always has, she always will. But occasionally she tells the wrong person. Like today, telling her date that she likes to be tied tightly. And had some rope. Before he pressed the duct tape against her mouth she hadn't had the chance to tell him what she liked while she was bound. To be tickled, teased. The erotic torment. But it didn't really matter. In a moment she realized that he had just left her tied on the bed. To be very frustrated.
He was going to have twice as much fun tonight. Two damsels - two very cute young damsels! - were waiting for him on his bed. Both were topless and barefoot, very much two of his favorite things. Tied - hogtied - both of them having their elbows pulled together hard and right. And ball gagged. Struggling hard, though there would be no escape. Whimpering. And the room filling very quickly with the scent of two aroused young women. A good night for him. Maybe a good night for them, too.
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