Bondage Tales -- MEGA BUNDLE! THIRTY Stories of Hard Bondage, Reluctant Gangbangs & Much More E-Book

Deborah Cockram

• Herausgeber: Deborah Cockram
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Everyone adores them. 

The sensual, sexy, oh-so-inviting woman in bondage.

Whether she's bound and gagged by a playful hubby, tied and helpless at the mercy of a stranger she met on the Internet, or maybe all bound and blindfold in a kidnapping game gone oh-so-wickedly wrong, there's little to get your blood pumping like a damsel in distress about to be deflowered by her captor.

Whether she's a MILF who's now an object to be played with by her young admirer; a babysitter taken by both the MOM AND DAD of her charges (and maybe later shared with the neighbors); or a young professional bound and passed around by the junior executives, women bound and gagged and helpless are simply irresistible.

Men want them, women want to be like them…and you can know exactly what it's like to be them with this MEGA Bundle of THIRTY stories featuring bondage, eroticism, and passion.

That's right. 30 full-length tales of BDSM, bondage, objectification, gangbangs, young women spoiled for the first time…it's all here.
Want a sampling of the tales inside this MASSIVE volume?

Tying Up and Taking the Intern Oh So Hard 

Taken Hard by the Real Estate Agent: A Tale of BDSM & Rough Sex With Strangers

Banging the Tied-Up Mayor Hard: Rough, Harsh, Ravishing Sex

Jennifer Stripped on Stage: A Story of Humiliating Public Bondage & Sex on Stage

Cuffed & Gangbanged by THREE

Banging The Babysitter! Mom and Dad Take The 19-year-old Virgin Over & Over…

Tied Up, Spanked & Ravished from BEHIND

Gangbanged & Ravished While Hubby Watches 

Stranger Fun: Another BDSM Hotel Ravishment Story

And so, so, so many more…THIRTY Tales of BDSM, Bondage, Hard Ravishing Passion and more….

Leseprobe

THIRTY Stories of Hard Bondage, Reluctant Gangbangs & Much More

By Deborah Cockram

© Copyright 2017 by Deborah Cockram and After Midnight Press

If you like these steamy, sexy tales, please look for other stories by the wicked writers at After Midnight Press. To find more of their work, simply click on our catalog to find a host of our hot, sensual stories for sale.

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Tying Up and Taking the Intern Oh So Hard

(A Reluctant Very Rough Bondage and Gangbang Tale)

By Deborah Cockram

Mr. Powers stood when I stepped into his office. He's more than double my age – I'm not good at figuring out how old people are, but I'd guess mid-forties, possibly a year or two older. He was a large man, not particularly tall – about six feet I think – but wide and thick in the shoulders, with a barrel chest.

He gestured for me to sit down. I did, slowly, grabbing the arms of the chair, easing myself down on the cushion. I had spent the first part of the morning standing at my desk. I really didn't want to walk around much after yesterday, I was so sore, but sitting was even worse.

Mr. Powers lowered himself into the large, high-back leather office chair behind his giant teakwood desk. Behind him the large corner window showed a view of rolling countryside, mountains in the distance, He propped his elbows on his desk, laced is fingers together and looked at me, his face hard and serious.

"Rachel, I'm afraid we have some serious business to discuss."

He turned his computer monitor so that I could see the screen, then pushed a button in his keyboard. A video popped up, showing me walking into the second floor conference room.

My stomach clenched, and I had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of my belly. I recognized the video – it was shot just yesterday, not more than a half-hour after the office had closed, though I didn't know there had been a video. It showed me walking to the end of the conference table, Nicholas Puckett sitting there, a goofy grin on his face. He loosened, then undid his tie.

"You are a beautiful creature," he said.

Mr. Powers hit a button to stop the video.

"I don't think we need to go any further," he said, his voice stern.

I closed my eyes, fought to keep the tears back. He wouldn't have to go much further to see me undress, to see…I didn't want to think about it.

"Rachel, I don't mean to excuse my junior executives who were involved in this. I'm taking appropriate disciplinary action against them. Serious action. But Rachel, I don't think I can have anyone working here who exhibited the lack of judgment you showed."

"Mr. Powers, I'm sorry, I…" I didn't know what else to say.

"I don't want to get into any sordid details – quite honestly, there's nothing you can say that would excuse what's on this video – but how did you manage to let yourself get caught up in this?"

I buried my face in my hands, fought to keep my emotions in check. I regained a little composure, then dropped my hands to my lap, looked Mr. Powers straight in the face and told him how it happened.

*****

Internships are supposed to be how we get real world experience, see professionals in action, learn something in a work environment, outside the classroom.

In reality, interns are gophers, cheap labor used to empty the trash, go on coffee runs, file everyone's paperwork. I skipped summer cheerleading camp – gave up my cheerleading scholarship – when I snagged the internship at Powers, Martin and Jacobs. It's an advertising agency that never takes interns my age – I'm nineteen – but they made an exception for me.

See, I graduated from high school early, when I was sixteen, and I had already finished enough advance placement courses to get credit for a full semester of college. Now, two years later I'm nineteen and have the equivalent of three years of college work behind me. I guess that was impressive enough to get me the summer job. Either that, or maybe it was the dress I wore for my interview – low cut and flashing plenty of leg.

Still, I've been on the job for three weeks now, and the closest I've come to anything remotely resembling marketing work is running a jump drive down to the print shop for some quick brochure printing.

So I thought what do I have to lose?

I was making copies for Mrs. Jacobs – the dragon lady they all call her – when Nicholas walked by. I casually lifted my dress, flashed a little thigh at him. He looked me in the face when I did and I smiled, then turned away. I was going for shy, and I think it worked. A minute later he stepped back to the copier, file folder in hand. He smiled, but didn't say anything.

The copier made its clicking sound, spitting out papers, collating them. I glanced at him again. "Can I help you?"

He waved the folder at me. "Just need to make copies."

Well, I knew that made no sense. Nicholas thought he was a hot shot executive on his way to one day being partner. No way he was standing in line at the copier, especially when he could just make me do it.

I touched the pause button when he wasn't looking. "Oh, not again," I said, mock frustration in my voice. I leaned over, way over, pretending to check for a paper jam, making sure my dress hiked way up, giving Nicholas an eye full of thighs.

"Let me take a peek," he said. I stepped aside, let Nicholas squat next to the copier, watched while he opened first one door, then another, making thoughtful "hmm" and "oh," noises. When he wasn't looking I reached over and pushed unpause, and when he shut the paper tray door it started up.

"Oh, you did it," I said, working a little admiration into my voice.

He smiled. Nicholas had no idea why it had started up, but I guessed he was about to take credit.

"It's no biggie, happens a lot," he said, without offering any more.

I leaned into him, looked up into his face. "Thanks, Nick. Let me know if I can repay the favor." I smiled, and felt the bulge in his pants. I turned back to the copier, gathered all the papers and walked away, looking back over my shoulder. Nicholas was staring at me, holding the file folder in front of his cock to hide his erection.

Later I was eating lunch outside on one of the benches in the park across the street. Nicholas strolled over and sat next to me.

"How's the internship so far?" he asked, flashing a smile..

Crappy, all I do is grunt work. That's what I thought. "Oh, it's okay. I enjoy watching you work, but I wish I could learn more, get a closer look at how you put together your proposals. "

Nicholas looked out over the park, pursed his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Rach…I can call you Rach, can't I?"

Actually, I hate the name. "Yes, of course."

"I think I can help. You're special Rach, you have a lot of talent."

And you can tell that by how I deliver coffee every morning?

"I'm not really supposed to do this, but I'd be willing to give you some insight into what I do, take you in when we put together some presentations."

He looked around, then ran his finger along my thigh. "Maybe we could help each other."

I smiled. "Maybe so."

We sat like that, silent, for several minutes, his hand on my thigh. He glanced at his watch. "Have to get back. What about we meet in the staff conference room tonight, maybe around six-thirty?"

I licked my lip. "I'll be there."

*****

Six-thirty came, and I stood outside the conference room. I felt like a hundred butterflies were rolling around inside my stomach, fighting for space. I pushed open the door, slipped in and let it close behind me.

Nicholas was sitting at the conference table, a goofy grin on his face. He loosened his tie, then slipped it from around his neck.

"You are a beautiful creature," he said, leaning back in the chair. "Take your dress off."

I felt my face flush, which caught me a little by surprise. I guess I expected … I don't know, kissing, maybe some sort of foreplay.

I smiled, reached back and pretended I couldn't reach the zipper on the back of my dress. I turned, my back to Nicholas. "Help me, please?"

Next thing I knew he was behind me, zipper down, dress on the floor around my feet. I closed my eyes, expecting his hands on my shoulders, maybe on my hips. Instead he unsnapped my bra. Instinctively I crossed my arms over my breasts. He leaned against me, from behind, and though he was still dressed I could feel his cock, large and full, through his pants.

He reached around me, grabbed my wrists and pulled them down, then behind me. I gasped when I felt his tie wrap around my right wrist. I tried pulling away, but he was surprisingly strong.

"Now, now, my pet, you wanted my help. You have to play nice." With that he crossed my wrists, wrapped the tie around them several times, then tied it so tight I could feel my hands falling asleep already.

He turned me around and kissed me, hard, his lips pressing against mine until it hurt. I felt his tongue inside my mouth, his hands on my breasts, pinching my nipples.

"Ow," I said and tried pulling away.

"Where do you think you're going young one?" He bent down, scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the table. He laid me there, on my back, my legs hanging off the end. It was uncomfortable, but…being tied, being manhandled…I found my heart beating faster, sweat was starting to bead up on my body, and I wanted more.

Within seconds Nicholas was naked, standing at the end of the table. He lifted my legs – I could feel the wetness in my pussy, dripping down onto the table – then put his cock against my cunt. He smiled, then shoved his dick into me as hard and deep as he could – no play, nothing gradual, he just slammed into me, pulled back and thrust again. I moaned, pulled hard against the tie – I wanted my hands on him, touching him – but the tie held firm. I called out, my heart slamming inside my chest now, and I tried to thrust my hips in time with his movements.

"Tell me, sweet Rachel, have you ever been taken by three men?"

I thought it an odd question, not sure how to respond.

"Do you like being bound, helpless?" he whispered, thrusting with each word.

"Yes, yes," I said, breathless, my body hurtling fast toward a growing climax.

"Are you willing to let me do things to you…take you further than you've ever been?"

"OH MY GOD YES!" I screamed. I wasn't sure what was with all the questions, but in that moment I just wanted him to shut up and fuck me.

Without warning he pulled out, completely, and stepped away.

"Wait, why are you leaving?" I cried. My body was hot, I was breathing hard but not able to get enough air, and I wanted him to finish, to cum inside me, to let me cum with him between my legs.

Instead, he smiled, shook his head from side to side making "tsk, tsk" noises.

Nicholas walked to the side door, the one that leads to some of the offices.

"Nick, wha—"

Before I could finish, he opened the door. Peter and Roger, two other junior account executives, stepped in.

"Wh…" my voice gave way. I didn't know what to say, do. I tried sitting up, turning away.

Nicholas was on me in a second, between my legs, cock ramming inside me again. I tried kicking at him, but he held my legs against either side of his body. He kept thrusting, his cock filling me, and soon my pussy was contracting, shudders rolling through my body. I started to scream, to call out when I felt hands on my head. Roger was standing next to the table, his fingers in my hair, turning my head. He was nude now. His cock brushed my lips. A shudder of uncertainty ran through me. I wasn't averse to taking cock inside my mouth, but I really hadn't expected this, not with three of them, with Nicholas slamming inside me.

I tried turning my head away.

Roger smiled, then he looked down where Nicholas was and nodded. That's when I noticed Peter was gone – nowhere in my line of sight.

And then it happened – Nicholas kept his cock in me, but he lifted my leg, up over him and brought it down on his other side, so that my legs were next to one another, my body twisted, partially on my side, his cock still in me. Then I felt another cock, Peter's, pushing against my asshole.

It slipped in. He had lubricated it, thank god, with something that was cold and gooey, but god damn, it burned. I'd never had a dick up my ass before, and even though he pushed in only an inch or so, it felt like he was stretching me in all sorts of directions.

I struggled, I tried rolling, kicking, but I couldn't move, and the more I fought the harder Nicholas rammed inside me. Then Peter pushed harder, and I felt like something inside was about to burst.

I screamed. Roger forced his cocked in my mouth, deep in, so that I couldn't bite down, couldn't even move my head. He twisted my hair around his fingers, pulled me forward as he pushed in, his cock passing over my tongue, touching the back of my throat before pulling back again. He kept moving forward and back, his balls smacking against my face with each thrust.

That's when I lost control. Nicholas and Peter, whether they meant to or not, had synchronized their thrusts, one going deep as the other pulled back, over and over. My whole body quivered, beyond all control. Peter hurt me, his cock was going too deep, but the pain, the pleasure from Nicholas…my god, I've never felt anything like it, the sensations mixing together.

Yet I couldn't fully concentrate on those feelings, my focus jerked back to Roger with every thrust to the back of my throat. I tried sucking, rolling my tongue over his dick when he pulled back. He groaned. I heard slapping – Peter slamming into me, Nicholas slamming into me, Roger's balls against my face with each of his thrusts.

Every nerve in my body felt on fire. Pain, humiliation, wanting, craving more…I screamed, though it was nothing more than a muffled gag around Peter's cock. My whole body shook as waves of orgasm rolled through me. My heart felt like it was going to burst, I couldn't get my breath, then I felt Peter release, his cum filling my ass, warm and slippery. Then Roger reached climax, his cum filling my mouth, squirting against the back of my throat. I gagged, tried sucking on his cock, the cum coating it, rolling down my throat, dribbling from my mouth across my face.

Then Nicholas pulled out, calling my name, almost screaming it, and slammed his cock across my stomach, cum shooting onto my body. He rubbed his hands through, spread it over my breasts, on my nipples, pinching them – the new pain radiating across my breasts, fresh new spasms of climax wracking my body while Roger continued pumping inside my mouth. His balls slamming against my face, the hair ticking my skin, heightened every sensation.

Peter's movements – his agonizing, burning, delicious movements – slowed, came to an end.

Finally all three of them stopped moving, their breathing slowing. My own body still shivered, my muscles contracting so hard it felt like cramps seizing them.

"Oh Jesus," I whispered when I could finally gasp the words. "I can't…can't…" I couldn't catch my breath. They rolled me over on my stomach, then a hand smacked my ass, followed by another and another. Each of them, spanking me, in turn, until I felt heat radiating from my ass. I flinched with each blow, tears forming in my eyes, yet even this, being spanked, helpless to stop them, brought fresh new waves of arousal to my body.

Eventually, they stopped.

I lay on my stomach on the hard table, the cum Nicholas had squirted over me growing cold and sticky. I kept my eyes closed for the longest time, hearing movement, not caring what was happening.

"Rach."

It was Nicholas' voice.

I opened my eyes, rolled onto my side. The three of them stood there, fully dressed. They reached over, grabbed me be the arms and lifted me.

"Wow, you have a mess to clean up," Peter said.

They laughed.

"Please," I said, turning, my bound arms within their reach now.

Nicholas shook his head side to side.

"Not till you clean up," he said, motioning to the cum-covered table.

"But…"

Nicholas stepped to me, put his finger over my lips. Then he reached down and smack my ass hard.

"Clean the table. Lick it up."

I stared at him, not believing what he had just said. He turned me to the table, pushed me over and the three of them watched, for forty minutes, while I licked the cum from the table. It was hard, sometimes, keeping my balance, reaching all the table, but my god, I felt…it's hard to explain. I wanted them to take me again, make me do more.

"Very good," Nicholas said.

I wondered what was next. My hands were still bound, and it was getting late. I wanted Nicholas to take me again, to feel him cum inside me this time. But, my ass was burning inside, my hands were numb, and I started to just want to go home, shower, and sit, soaking in a hot tub.

He untied me, then he grabbed me and gave me a big, deep kiss.

"See you tomorrow, Rach," he said. "I'm a man of my word. You're assisting me with a couple of new accounts.

Then the three of them walked out.

*****

Mr. Powers sat, impassive. He'd listened to the entire story, leaning back in his chair, unmoving. I don't know much about Mr. Powers, but I expected something – a gasp, a red face, parted lips, maybe just arched eyebrows. Instead, he watched me, listened to every word, as if he were listening to one of his employees give a marketing report.

He leaned over the edge of his desk, large forearms resting there.

"You're only nineteen?"

His question caught me off guard. After all I'd shared, that was the question he asked?

"Yes."

"I was led to believe that you were older, twenty-one at least."

He said nothing for the longest time.

"Even in that, Mr. Puckett was dishonest." He pursed his lips, then sighed. "I'm glad you shared this with me, Rachel. I had no idea…I see my planned action against my associates wasn't severe enough. This gives me a clearer picture of who they are."

"Mr. Powers, please, I didn't mean to get them in trou—"

"Nonsense," he said. "As I said, we expect a certain level of conduct by those who work here. There's no room for these three in my firm.

"As for you, Rachel, I'm afraid nothing's changed. We can't have you on staff either, even as an intern. We strictly forbid physical relationships between employees, no exceptions. It's in all of our contracts, even senior management. We'll give you a clean reference, and pay you the stipend we'd agreed for the summer, but I'm afraid I'll need you to clear out your things."

I stared at Mr. Powers. My lip trembled, and I feared I was going to cry – not because of what the three did to me the day before – god, I'd do it again – but because I was being fired.

Slowly I stood, left his offices, packed up my things and left. When I reached the sidewalk outside I saw Nicholas, throwing a box of his personal items into the trunk of his car. The box turned over, and I could hire the clank of pictures and personal items spreading out inside the trunk. He slammed it shut, cussing under his breath, climbed in his car and squealed the tires as he pulled out.

*****

That evening I sat in my car, parked across the street from Mr. Powers' house. It's easy for someone like that, in his corner office, big window looking out over the countryside, to be in control, to maintain a certain decorum.

Here in his home, though, his reaction might be different. I was dressed in my sexiest, skimpiest short black dress, and I was going to make him want me, make him take me, and then I'd have my job back. Maybe more.

He had gone into his home just minutes before. I was giving him a bit of time to get settled in. Just as I reached for the door handle, a black Lexus pulled into his driveway. The door opened, and the Dragon Lady – Mrs. Jacobs – climbed out. She hurried to the front door and let herself in.

I think I had just found my way back into the company.

The End

Banging the Tied Up Intern 2:

This Time the Bosses Have Their Way, Hard and Rough

By Deborah Cockram

I slipped down in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position. My ass was still sore from what Nicholas and his friends had done to me last night, though the burning had finally subsided. Just thinking about it, their cocks up my ass, in my pussy – I grew wet at the memory, even though it had hurt, still hurt.

I had been waiting for an hour, parking on the side of the road. Mr. Powers had arrived at his home a half hour earlier, and I was about to slip from my car and put my plan into action when another car pulled into his driveway.

Her car.

I watched as Ms. Jacobs – the Dragon Lady – let herself into Mr. Powers home, and I remembered the words he had said to me earlier that day, when he fired me.

"We can't have you on staff either, even as an intern. We strictly forbid physical relationships between employees, no exceptions. It's in all of our contracts, even senior management," he had said of the reason for letting me go – that, and the fact I was just eighteen years old. He thought I was twenty, because I was an advanced student, already in my junior year of college.

Mostly, though, it was because of what happened last night.

He had seen a video – I don't know how he got a copy, didn't even know a video had been made – of me from the night before, in the staff conference room. Nicholas, the top junior associate in the company, had stripped me naked and tied my hands, then he and Peter and Roger, two other associates, had taken me on the conference table, kissing, touching, fucking me in the ass, cumming in my mouth, doing most everything you could imagine.

It had hurt, it was frightening when they all went down on me, but it had been incredibly arousing – I came harder than I ever remember, and I have to confess to being disappointed a little when they let me go.

This morning, though, had been the total opposite, very dispassionate, Mr. Powers' firing of me. He had seen the video, he had me recount the story of what happened to me, told me he would be firing the three of them as well as me for what happened.

I wasn't ready to go, and I had come here, to Mr. Powers home, dressed in my sexiest, skimpiest short black dress, and I was going to make him want me, make him take me, and then I'd have my job back. Maybe more.

Then I saw Ms. Jacobs – Fonda, I think her first name is, though everyone at work calls her Dragon Lady. She's tall, nearly as tall as Mr. Powers, and slender, with mocha-colored skin and long, thick black hair. She would be pretty if she ever smiled, but Ms. Jacobs looks as if she's about to rip someone's face off, or worse.

She pulled into his drive, slipped from the car – she was wearing a long trench coat, which was odd given how warm it was, then slipped into his house. Seeing her walk into Mr. Powers' home was kind of shocking. Hell, seeing her walk into anyone's home is shocking.

I opened my car door, walked across the street and up to his door. I rang the bell. A minute later the door opened. Mr. Powers stood there – he's not a tall man, maybe only six-feet, but he's large, barrel chested, with wide shoulders and a thick neck, like he had been a football player in his younger days and had kept working out all these years. He has thick black and gray hair. He was still dressed in the suit pants he'd worn to work, though his shirt was gone – he wore only a crisp, white t-shirt. I don't know how old he is, though I'd guess mid to late forties. I figured Ms. Jacobs at around forty.

"Rachel?"

Ah, I have him. He's surprised.

In all that he saw on the video, in everything I said earlier today describing what the three junior partners had done to me, he looked no more than mildly interested, as if he were hearing the latest financial projections for the month. No raised eyebrow, no redness in the face, no disgust or fascination – just an odd detachment. That had been on his turf, in his office, everyone dressed up in their best business attire.

Now, standing here on his front porch, dressed in my skimpy little dress, I had him off-balance, either because of the way I looked, or because he had the Dragon Lady inside.

"Mr. Powers, I…" I looked down, like I was struggling with what to say, playing with the edge of my dress, pulling at it to flash a little more thigh. "I was hoping we could talk about my job."

He sighed, leaned against the door frame. "There's nothing to discuss, Rachel. Your intern position was terminated. We'll honor your summer stipend, supply you with a reference, but as I explained this morning, that sort of behavior cannot be condoned among our associates, particularly on business property."

I stepped forward until I was almost leaning into Mr. Powers. I looked up at him, giving my best wide-eyed, innocent young girl face.

"We strictly forbid physical relationships between employees, no exceptions. It's in all of our contracts, even senior management," I said, repeating what Mr. Powers had told me earlier today. "Isn't that what you said?"

I leaned more, my breasts barely touching him.

He sighed. "Yes, that's correct."

I put my hands up on his shoulders. I could feel a small shudder roll through his body, though he managed to keep his face impassive.

"Then why did I see Ms. Jacobs slip into your house a few minutes ago?"

He stepped back, put his hands on my arms, squeezed slightly. "Rachel, you need to go."

I glanced down, saw his cock bulging through his pants. I smiled, looked up into his face and gently touched his crotch.

"Is that for me, then, or for Ms. Jacobs?"

He sighed. Before he could say anything, she stepped up behind him.

"Let her in, Eli," she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

I could tell by his face Mr. Powers didn't like the idea, but he stepped aside, gestured for me to enter. I went in.

She was dressed in a sheer black teddy – ah, now the coat makes sense. That's all she had on under the trench coat.

"You're that intern, right?" she asked.

I nodded.

"The one in the video?"

I felt my face flush. I had no idea Mr. Powers had shared it.

"It's okay, sweetie, we had to watch it together this morning, before we decided what to do with you."

"How many people saw it?" I was suddenly nervous, taken aback by the idea of that video, of me tied up and the junior partners gangbanging me in the conference room, getting into general circulation. I had no idea they were videoing when we did it, and I assumed this morning that only Mr. Powers had seen it, when he fired me.

"Relax, just the two of us," Ms. Jacobs – Fonda – said. "We're the managing partners, the two of us had to watch it. Nothing personal, just business."

She produced a memory stick, one that looked similar to the one Mr. Powers had the video on this morning.

"Tonight, though, we were going to take another look, strictly for pleasure."

I wasn't sure what to say. I'd come here to seduce Mr. Powers, then thought I had my chance to blackmail him when I saw the Dragon Lady enter his home. Now, standing here, I wasn't sure if she was teasing me in some cruel fashion or if she was serious.

"Of course," she stepped behind me, leaned against me, her breasts pushing against my back, her mouth next to my ear as she whispered. "Now we have the real thing." She ran her hands along my shoulders, down my arms.

My breath caught in my throat. I tried to keep a shudder from running through my body. I wasn't successful, and she laughed as she felt the shiver roll through me.

"That's what you'd like, isn't it?"

I closed my eyes. Her breath was hot on my neck. I was growing wet.

Before I knew it, she grabbed my arms and pulled them behind me. From somewhere she had a rope – she crossed my arms behind my back, so that my forearms were parallel, and she tied me that way. A tiny seed of fear sprouted deep inside me, but the feeling of her hands on me, binding me, her lips on the back of my neck as she did so was intoxicating. Paralyzing. More than arousing.

Mr. Powers stepped forward, took my face in his hands and kissed me, hard and deep, tongue slipping between my lips. I moaned into his mouth and then Dragon Lady pulled the ropes tight. She fell to her knees, began kissing along the back of my thighs – sending little jolts of electricity up and down my legs.

Without warning Mr. Powers ripped my blouse open, then stepped away, left the room. He returned with a pair of scissors. My body trembled uncontrollably now as he cut my clothes away – the blouse, my skirt, then he sliced off my bra. He dropped the scissors to the ground and cupped my breasts in his hands, pinching my nipples.

I moaned as he returned to my mouth, pressing hard, kissing, tongue slipping inside. Fonda continued kissing along the back of my thighs, her hands playing up and down the front of my legs.

"Please," I whispered, turning from Mr. Powers' kiss as her fingers played along the edge of my panties.

"Please?" she asked.

"Yes, please," I whispered.

Suddenly, she stood and slapped my ass hard, twice.

"You do not speak unless we ask you to," she said, her voice now hard. "Do you understand?"

"What? I—"

Another smack, this time much harder, from Mr. Powers.

I looked at him. He smiled, but there was little humor in the grin. That little seed of fear I felt earlier suddenly bloomed.

Fonda began looping more rope around my arms, not just the forearms but my upper arms, tying them tightly together, then lashing my arms to my body. She wrapped the rope around me several times, looping it around each breasts until she had bound them as well. By the time she was done, I couldn't move my arms at all, and even my breasts were tied so tightly they didn't move much.

That's when he smacked me again, on the ass, over and over.

"Please," I cried. "Please stop."

Dragon Lady grabbed my hair and yanked back, then kissed me, her tongue slipping into my mouth, her other hand on my sore breasts, grasping them hard, playing with my nipples. She let go, slipped her teddy off and let it drop to the floor.

They forced me to my knees. Mr. Powers undressed, smiling at me the whole time. Finally he stood in front of me, nude, his cock in my face. She stood behind me, straddling me so that the back of my head was against her pussy.

Then Fonda showed it to me – the strap on. I squirmed, pleaded – I was afraid she was going to put it on, ram it up my ass. I was still sore from last night, from having those cocks inside my ass.

Instead, Fonda looped the strap-on's belt and around my face, head. One strap she put right over my eyes, so that I couldn't see. the other she wrapped around my face, right above my upper lip and below my nose. The third length of harness she wrapped around my throat. When Fonda pulled tight, the harness squeezed my neck, cut off part of my breath. I panicked, tried getting away.

Mr. Powers grabbed my breasts, pinched my nipples and pulled. I cried out.

"Remain still, or I can always squeeze more." He gave my breasts a quick hard squeeze to demonstrate. When he did, another shudder ran through me. My breasts hurt, but his hands there, squeezing, sending pain through me, while I was bound and helpless was surprisingly arousing. I whimpered – I'm sure he thought from pain or fear, but it was from the growing sense of wanting, craving.

Soon enough Fonda was done. The strap-on was hanging from the back of my head, held firmly in place by the harness around my face and neck.

That's when Mr. Powers stepped up to me, his cock against my face. I struggled, tried turning away, but Fonda held my head firm in her hands and Mr. Powers pushed his cock against my mouth. I refused to part my lips, but then he pinched my nostrils shut. I held as long as I could, finally gasping for breath. When I did, he shoved his cock all the way in, touching the back of my throat.

I gagged, at first, but then he pulled back and shoved again. This time I pushed under his cock with my tongue, guided it a bit, then when he pulled back I sucked as hard as I could.

He gasped, then shoved in hard, and once again I pushed under his cock with my tongue. He still touched the back of my throat, but not as hard.

I moaned – I wanted him to keep thrusting. I felt myself growing dripping wet – I still wore my panties, and they were beyond damp now. Then Fonda moved forward, her pussy against the back of my head, the strap-on slipping inside her cunt. She moaned, pulled back just a bit then thrust against the back of my head, forcing my face forward, making me take his cock in even deeper.

Then I heard them, felt them, their bodies pressed against one another above my head, kissing, his hands on her shoulders, on her breasts, her hands holding my head still.

He thrust harder, faster. She did as well. They were both fucking my head – he with his cock so deep in my mouth it felt as if he would stretch my jaws apart, she slamming her pussy against the back of my head, taking the strap-on deep inside her.

My own breathing, already difficult because of the way they surrounded my head with their crotches, came fast and shallow now, my heart slammed inside my chest.

Sweat rolled off their bodies, mingling with the sweat on my own body. I pulled at the ropes with all I was worth – I wanted desperately to touch them, caress their bodies – but I couldn't wiggle my arms even an inch.

I realized I was clenching my legs together as tightly as I could, thrusting my own hips, trying with all I was worth to cum.

I sucked as hard as I could each time Mr. Powers pulled back, then rammed my head backwards as forcefully as I could every time he thrust forward, pushing the strap-on deep into Fonda.

I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep going – God, I wanted so badly to cum, I realized I was actually crying. I didn't care.

I felt Fonda wrap her fingers with my hair and pull harder. Mr. Powers slammed against me with more force, his balls hitting me on the chin, his public hair scratching my face.

Fonda was gasping now, even as they kissed. My own breathing – strained as it was around Mr. Powers cock – was shallow and jagged.

She screamed, he called her name. They moved even faster, slamming against my head, my face. I tried calling out, moaning, but what little sound I could make was swallowed by their cries. Then Mr. Powers came, an explosion of gooey, salty cum filling my mouth, spurting down my throat, rolling over my lips and down my chin.

Fonda cried out, and I felt her cum, body shuddering, out of control, her own juices coating the strap-on, dripping down , matting my hair.

They kept moving – I'd never been with a man who came for so long, who kept thrusting, his cum continuing to fill my mouth.

My own body was on the edge of control. My heart pounded, my own juices dripped from my pussy, matted my panties, slipped down onto my thighs.

Finally the two of them slowed, their gasping became heavy breathing, their movements coming to a stop. Mr. Powers pulled his cock from my mouth, Fonda stepped from behind me. Cum covered my mouth, chin, trickled down along the front of my throat.

She squatted in front of me, licked my lips then kissed me, her long, pointy tongue going deep into my mouth while her hands worked the strap-on, unfastening the harness and belt portions. She pulled it from my head, then stood and forced her pussy against my face.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

I pressed my lips to her pussy, kissed, then slipped my tongue into her cunt.

She gasped, then put her hands on the back of my head and shoved my face against her pussy.

"Yes," she whispered.

I explored, tasted, ran my tongue along her clit. Again, she twisted my hair around her fingers, held me hard and fast against her pussy while she thrust forward. Her body shuddered, spasms rolling up and down as she cam again. She yanked so hard I feared she might pull my hair out, yet I didn't care. I bit gently, licked, shoved my tongue in as deeply as I could.

She screamed, body out of control, her juices coating my face.

Mr. Powers knelt behind me, reached around and began fondling my breasts. They were sore, but the sensation of his hands there, touching, playing, caressing, was more than I could take. My whole body seemed to convulse, shivers and shudders running through me, waves of ecstasy washing over me.

I pulled back from Fonda and cried out. She yanked me forward by my hair while Mr. Powers squeezed my nipples.

"Don't you dare stop you little slut," she called out, thrusting back and forth against me so hard it hurt.

Finally, again, her thrusting slowed, her body stopped shivering. My own climax rolled through me like a violent, swirling summer storm. My body ached, my mouth hurt, yet the pleasure, the feeling of helplessness, of being a sexual toy, drove me. I cried out again, clenching my legs so tight they hurt.

Mercifully, when I felt like I couldn't go on, I came, so hard it felt like my body was one giant, pleasurable muscle cramp.

I gasped, and then my body began to slow, my breathing recaptured some semblance of normal, my heart still beat fast, but no longer felt like it was going to burst through my chest.

They stepped away from me, kissing one another, caressing, while I knelt on the floor, watching. They stopped after a couple of minutes, stepped over to me and both sat on the floor.

"You enjoy that my darling?" Fonda asked.

I nodded.

"Well, my dear, we didn't give you permission to cum, now did we?"

Before I could say anything, they pushed me to the ground, face first, and Mr. Powers spanked me, his open palm smacking my ass over and over. I flinched, struggled, tried to roll away, but Fonda held me tight.

I cried, tears rolling down my face, like I was a child, begging them to stop.

After maybe fifteen or so smacks, he did. Mr. Powers rubbed my ass, gently, though it burned from his spanking, while Fonda took my face in her hands.

"If you're going to remain with our firm, you must learn to follow instructions. Tonight, your training begins."

THE END (For Now)

Taken Hard by the Real Estate Agent:

A Tale of BDSM and Rough, Reluctant Sex With Strangers

By Deborah Cockram

Cassandra waited.

She was sitting in the floor of a large, unfurnished room in a strange house, nude, hands cuffed in front of her and chained to the floor.

Off in the distance she heard water running.

He's drawing a bath.

Cassandra wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Right now she could use a nice, long, hot bath. Leah and Lars had been pretty rough – kissing, groping, spanking, playing with her body before Lars finally came in her mouth while Leah pounded inside her ass with a strap-on..

It had been an unexpected, though not altogether unpleasant, experience. Cassandra had applied as a model for a bondage photo shoot. She'd thought it would be just some playful tie-up games, some pictures, maybe video. She had never done anything like that, but after fifteen years of milquetoast marriage, spending her time chasing after two kids and falling into bed exhausted every night, with a husband whose idea of passion was Saturday night sex that took all of seven minutes, Cassandra needed something different.

It didn't hurt that she made five hundred bucks, with the promise of up to two thousand depending on video sales. Her husband, Vince, had lost his job two years ago and, while he worked two lower-paying jobs now and had recently started working with a real estate agency on the side to make ends meet, the extra money she would make from the shoot would come in handy.

Once Cassandra was bound and gagged, though, they had used her body, played with her, made her their sexual toy for hours before finally cumming. Then she learned the house they used was a short-term rental. They left her nude and gagged, chained to the floor, the key to her cuffs in a melting ice cube on the floor in front of her. Cassandra was helpless, and mortified, when the real estate agent came by to collect the keys and close up the house before the ice cube finished melting.

Even more so when the real estate agent turned out to be her husband. After he plugged a memory stick the video team had left behind into his laptop and saw the raw video footage the others had shot, of his wife signing papers to agree to the shoot, of being bound and gagged and semi-willingly brutalized, Vince had given her the ominous warning that if she was really into all that "bondage and pain shit," she would be his for the weekend in a way she'd never dreamed of.

With that, he had marched from the room, made several trips from his car into the house, carrying boxes that he took downstairs, and now he was off somewhere, and it sounded like he was running bath water.

"Vince?"

No reply.

She called louder, then yanked on the cuffs out of frustration, only to regret the move when the metal bit into her wrists.

Finally, Vince returned. He walked to the center of the room, squatted down in front of his wife and cupped her chin in his hand.

"I had no idea you were into all of this," he said, a strange smile on his face. "Now we're going to see just how much you enjoy it. But first," he raised a clump of her hair in front her face, hair matted with cum and her own saliva, "…we have to clean you up."

He pulled the key from his pocket, unlocked her cuffs from the floor – though her wrists remained firmly held in the handcuffs – then yanked Cassandra to her feet. She gasped, but had little time to protest as he walked through the house, down a long, dark hallway, to a small lighted room in the rear of the home. All the while, he pulled Cassandra along, like she was no more than a pet he was guiding.

Once they reached the bathroom, she looked around the room. There was a large, vintage iron bathtub with signature claw feet. It was large and deep and looked suddenly inviting. Then she noticed there was no steam rising from the water.

He pulled her over.

"Get in," he said.

Cassandra lifted her leg and put her foot in the water, then instinctively recoiled. It was cold.

"I said get in."

"Vince, please, no, it's freezing."

Without hesitation Vince unbuckled his belt, slipped it from his pants then lashed Cassandra hard across her ass.

She flinched – in all their years of marriage, Vince had never once done anything like this. Cassandra was scared, but down deep inside, the idea of her husband spanking her, using her – a little bit of arousal started growing.

Apparently, she hadn't moved fast enough. He pulled back with his hand and brought the belt down hard, again, across her ass. She flinched, gasped. Then Cassandra was overcome with a sudden, inexplicable urge.

She stepped toward Vince, pounding her nude body against him hard. She could tell by the confusion on his face the move caught him off guard. She leaned into him, her breasts against his chest, her cuffed hands against his crotch.

Cassandra looked up at him. "You like me like this, Vince? Cuffed and tied and naked?"

She stared into his eyes, waiting, watching as confusion turned to … what? She saw a new expression come into Vince's face, an unfamiliar look in his eyes.

He reached up, grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her around and pushed her toward the tub.

"Get in," he said, and she felt the sting of the leather belt again, against her ass, the back of her legs.

Cassandra lifted her leg, dipped her foot in the water and paused. I can't do this.

Just then another blow from the belt convinced her to go ahead. She stepped into the tube, the shock of the cold water rolling through her body. She lifted her second leg and put her foot in the water. Cassandra stood, water up to her knees, chill bumps breaking out all over her body. She looked at Vince.

"Please?" she pleaded. "I'll do whatever you want, anything, just don't make me—"

She was cut off when he grabbed her cuffed hands and jerked down, forcing her to sit in the deep, cold bath water. Cassandra gasped, shivers rolling up and down her body.

"You're a mess," Vince said. "Surely you don't expect me to have anything to do with you before we clean you up?"

"Vin…Vince, it's cold. Please…"

He stepped behind her, unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up his arms.

"Dip your head back, get your hair fully in the water."

She sat, shivering.

Suddenly Vince squatted down behind the tube, reached around her, his hands now in the water, and pinched her nipples.

Cassandra called out, tried jerking away, the movement only heightening the pain as he held her nipples firmly.

"Cold water has made them nice and big and sensitive, hasn't it?" he laughed, squeezing her nipples. "Now, when I give a command, you obey, understand?"

"Yes," Cassandra said.

He let go of her nipples, repeated his command that she get her hair wet. Cassandra leaned back, tilting her head as far backward as she could, nearly submerging her head and face. She sat back up.

Vince had a small bottle of shampoo on the shelf behind the tube. He poured the shampoo in his hands, then began running his fingers through her hair, working the shampoo in, massaging her scalp.

Cassandra continued shivering. Had he done this under any other circumstances, she would have been in heaven. But all she could think of was the freezing water, her body shivering uncontrollably.

He continued washing her hair, then he took a bar of soup from the side of the tube and began running it along her shoulders, down in the water, over her chest, her breasts, stomach…he moved to the side of the tub, soaping her legs, then he ran the soap along her pussy, sending fresh new trembles through her – different than the shivering from the cold

Cassandra closed her eyes and moaned. Before she knew it, Vince was behind her again, his hands in her hair.

"Hold your breath dear one," he said before yanking, pulling her head and face under the water. She gasped, then quickly took in as much air as she could before being pulled under. He ran his fingers through her hair, working the shampoo out, then he pulled her back above the water.

She coughed.

"Stand up," he said. Vince grabbed her hands and pulled her upward, his arm around her, helping Cassandra keep her balance.

She stood. The air was frigid against her wet body. She shivered harder, watched Vince step to the closet. He pulled out a couple of towels, placed one on the ground for her, then helped her step from the tub. Vince put the other towel against her, as if he were going to dry her body, then he smiled and stepped back.

"No, I like your look all wet."

"Vince, please," Cassandra pleaded. The water on her body kept her so cold.

He smiled, cupped her breasts in his hands and pinched her nipples. She gasped, and when she did Vince leaned in, pressed his lips to hers, kissing deeply.

Despite being cold – so cold – a sudden hot feeling surged through Cassandra. She returned his kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth, tasting his tongue. He pinched harder – she called out – then he pulled away. Vince stepped behind her, then her vision went black – he was tying a blindfold around her head, before stepping in front and grabbing her cuffed hands.

Without a word he led her – where she wasn't sure – but she had no choice but to follow.

"Careful, we are going down steps," he said.

They descended what must have been a dozen stairs to a cold, hard floor. He led her several more steps, then they stopped. She felt Vince next to her, his lips against her ear.

"I'm going to uncuff you. Do not move, do not attempted to escape. You understand?"

Cassandra wasn't sure what to do or say. She remained silent until she felt his teeth clamp over her cold, wet left nipple. He pulled.

She cried out.

He let go.

"I said, do you understand?"

"Ye…yes," she whispered.

She felt him slip the key in, the cuffs fall away, clang to the floor. Quickly he had a rope around her right wrists, looped around several times, then her left, then he pulled the rope and her wrists were drawn together, tightly.

"Vince, what—"

The smack of his hand on her ass.

"Quiet."

Within seconds he had looped the rope between her wrists, pulled tight and her wrists were bound together. She pulled – there was no movement. Cassandra felt another rope being tied around the one binding her wrists, then, without warning, her arms were pulled up overheard, so far and tight her arms felt stretched, her feet barely touched the floor.

Then the blindfold was jerked away.

Cassandra gasped. She was in the basement, she presumed, strung up, arms bound overhead, and she grew scared at what she saw. On the walls hung additional ropes, a whip, a cat-o-nine-tails, chains. On a table against one wall were even more items – several gags, blindfolds, some sort of clamps, vibrators, some things she had no idea their use. The one wall, the one in front of her, was mostly a large mirror where she could see herself, her nude body bound and hanging from the ceiling.

"Vince?"

He smiled, circled her, hand trailing along her body as he walked around her, across her breasts, under her arm, along her back, under her other arm, back to her breasts.

She shivered.

"Still cold?" he asked, a humorless grin on his face.

She nodded, but said nothing. She was freezing, but there was something else, something more. Seeing herself trussed up, feeling his hands on her, watching has he looked at her – she trembled with anticipation, wanting to feel him in her, ramming his cock deep inside her pussy.

He leaned in, began kissing her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth, then the other.

Cassandra moaned. She was cold, her ass felt raw from what Leah had done, her arms were already starting to ache – yet here, tied in a strange basement, her husband touching, kissing – Cassandra felt arousal growing.

Vince pulled away, pain flaring from her nipple as he did.

She flinched.

Vince laughed.

"You like that?" he asked, reaching out and pinching both nipples. They were sore, and still cold, which heightened the pain.

He stepped toward her, still pinching, and kissed her deeply, tongue slipping inside her mouth.

Cassandra trembled. Her nipples ached now, but his kiss, his control over her sent a wave of pleasure and wanting through her body.

Then, without warning, he was gone. She opened her eyes and saw Vince picking up a couple of small clamps, with a thin chain attached to them.

"Wh…what are those?" she asked.

He smiled. "You'll like these."

He stepped toward her.

"No, no, please," she begged, trying to turn away, back up as much as she could.

He reached out and snapped one closed over her right nipple.

Cassandra screamed.

Quickly Vince dropped the other clamp – it fell, then jerked the chain attaching the two, sending fresh pain flaring from Cassandra's right nipple. It hung, putting pressure on her nipple as Vince covered her mouth with his hand.

"No, none of that," he said. "There are neighbors. We can't disturb the neighbors."

Cassandra felt tears welling.

"You be quiet and I'll take the clamp off, okay?"

She nodded.

Vince moved his hand from her mouth and, true to his word, yanked the clamp from her nipple. A fresh wave of pain rolled through her.

Vince stepped back to the table, then returned, this time with a large ball gag.

"No, Vince, please, not that," she begged.

He lifted the gag to her lips, and Cassandra shut her mouth, held it closed tightly.

He reached down, pinched her right nipple hard.

She held her mouth closed.

He pulled, harder than be [...]