Frank Campbell - Bound Ankles

“Pip said I would find you here.”

“Did she also say that she worked me up to where I was really super horny and ready to climax then walked away?”

“Sounds like Pip,” was Jan’s calm reply. “She asked if she could leave you here all night. She said that the bondage wasn’t bad and you’d be comfortable.”

“The bondage is terrible and I’m uncomfortable,” protested Donna mildly.

“I guess you could sleep on that bed of pine needles.”

“Your bed would be nicer,” Donna said sweetly. “You could hogtie me and then pull me up between your legs until my mouth was right on your pussy, I could lick you into a frenzy...?”

Jan was tempted, Donna could see that much on her face in the moonlight. “You make that sound so nice,” she finally admitted. “But Pip really wants to leave you out in the forest all alone and I think that would be a nice change for you from my bed,”

Donna sighed. Well, she told herself, I’ve endured worse. “But,” Jan said. Donna’s ears instantly picked up. “But there’s no reason why you can’t provide that service right here.” Jan pulled off her blouse and tugged down the skirt. Underneath she was naked as was her custom so it didn’t take but a couple seconds before she was ready to have her slavegirl service her.

Jan squatted over Donna’s fate, lowering her sex until it was almost touching Donna’s nose. With a sigh Donna lifted her head and began licking, slowly at first to start the build up gently. She was an expert at this and knew very well what turned Jan on the best. After a few minutes Jan switched to a kneeling position straddling Donna’s head and facing her legs. She was beginning to moan with pleasure when she grabbed one of Donna’s large breasts in each hand and clamped her sharp fingernails onto the soft flesh. As her breathing became harder and harder, Jan’s fingernails dug deeper and deeper into the tender flesh. When she finally gasped aloud and stiffened, her fingernails were deep into the flesh. When Jan threw herself to the side to grab her pussy and roll around on the pine needle carpet, there were tiny red marks where blood was drawn on Donna’s breasts.

As Jan shuddered out her orgasm, Donna moaned in frustration. Servicing her mistress always got her horny too, and that delicious pain of her mistress squeezing her breasts had added to the excitement. Donna was again very sorry that she couldn’t even touch herself. If she could just reach her breasts... And it would have been so nice to touch her sex. Her fingers wiggled uselessly beneath her.

Jan kissed Donna sweetly before leaving her. Donna wanted so much to beg for her mistress to bring her to climax that it was an ache inside her loins. But she bit her tongue and held back the words. Slavegirls do not request satisfaction. Satisfaction was their mistress’ to give when it pleased her, not when it pleased a slave.

For a while after being left alone Donna cried and jerked her body around in an emotional assault upon the ropes that only left her just as securely bound and frustrated. The moon was directly over head when Donna finally fell asleep only to dream dreams of being tightly bound up and teased constantly but never allowed to reach orgasm. In her dreams that form of torture went on for days and days.

Donna awoke to the find the dawn tinting the eastern sky pink. The bears had not eaten her during the night.

Two days later Donna was once again in the small clearing where she had spent the night with her legs raised in the air. This time it was mid morning and Pip obviously had something else in mind. Donna noted the couple extra coils of rope that Pip carried, as well as the riding crop tucked into the waist band of her jeans. Given the chance to buy clothes at the local stores, Pip had assumed a Western mode and wore mostly blue jeans, colorful shirts and boots. This day her shirt was bright green. She positioned Jan facing one of the younger trees and a couple feet away from it. Donna’s clothing didn’t get to run to Western. It was early slavegirl: full nudity save for the metal collar and the ropes holding her arms tightly behind her back. Those ropes, instead of holding her wrists crossed, held them palm to palm and the elbows bound together tightly. And a gag, if you count a gag as clothing. It was the usual rubber wad with straps tightly buckled around her head.

It was a classic sight, a nude and uncomfortably tightly bound slavegirl being led by a teenage girl in cowboy dress. The nude slavegirl was older by half a dozen years and bigger, but the ropes made her helpless and completely obedient to the will of the youngster.

And that will was that she bend forward and down until her head was below her waist. Pip then walked her forward until her shoulders were against the tree trunk. Then she took rope and wrapped it around Donna’s wrists and the trunk, pinning her hands to the rough bark. A second length of rope then wrapped around her arms at the elbows, locking her arms firmly to the tree. The teenager then bound her ankles tightly together.

To Donna it was a strange way to be tied. She was standing but her head was straight down and her arms, from shoulder to fingers, were solidly bound to the tree. She could not lift her head because the back of it was against the tree. Even if her ankles had not been bound together, she could not have moved from her prison tree. With them bound, she could do nothing but stand. Stand and be aware how much her bottom was sticking up in the air. The reason for the riding crop was now apparent, and would soon be painfully apparent. But first Pip teased Donna’s hanging breasts and pussy. The teenager was showing signs of preferring her slavegirl to be sexually excited before being whipped. And Donna’s body complied, warming up and tingling to the touch of those slender fingers. Donna didn’t want to get all excited but there was nothing she could do about it. The fact that she felt very helpless in this position didn’t help. Nor did the fact that she knew she would soon be suffering a whipping across her bare bottom. Soon she was moaning and praying for Pip to make a little mistake and take her over the line into a wonderful orgasm. But Pip was too good at it, probably from much practice with her sister, and she withdrew just before Donna reached that wonderful state of orgasm.

A second later the first blow landed across her curved rear end, a shocking burst of fire that made her gasp into her gag, “Mmmmmphhhh!” The second slash of the riding crop brought two gasps, one from the pain and a second later another, as Donna crashed into an unexpected orgasm. Pip must have gotten her very close, indeed, for two quick strokes from the leather whip to have Donna gasping out pleasure mixed with her pain. Her fingers wiggled but the arms didn’t move. Her bottom swayed from side to side and up and down as her legs pumped it.

Pip stood back in surprise but quickly realized what was happening and laughed. It hadn’t been planned that way but she was delighted that a couple whip strokes could make her slavegirl reach a sexual climax. Suddenly an idea struck her and she lashed out again with the riding crop. Donna cried out as the fiery pain exploded in her bottom, It was such a mixture of pain and pleasure that she nearly fainted.

Pip let her slavegirl come down from the sexual high before continuing the whipping, “Mommy says I can only give you a dozen strokes,” she commented. “But she didn’t say I couldn’t make them as hard as I can.” The fourth stroke illustrated her point quite dramatically. By the end of all dozen, Donna was crying and Pip was horny as hell. While considering if she might release Donna so that the slavegirl could service her, Jan walked into the clearing. Jan expertly counted the marks across the taut flesh of Donna’s bottom, confirming that there were no more than twelve. Then she took the whip from Pip’s hand, Without preamble she cut loose with a stroke that evoked far more reaction from the bound girl than any of the others had. Jan’s stronger arm and expert slash had doubled the pain of any previous stroke. Donna whined through the gag and wiggled her bottom in frustration and because there was nothing else she could do. Both Pip and Jan liked the way that marked up flesh was wiggling back and forth before them. Jan cut it again. Then again.