Part Thirteen:
“MMMMPPPHHHHMMMPH!” I felt Emily shudder in my hands as I gripped her waist from behind and felt us both finish simultaneously. I removed myself from her and began undoing the strappado holding her bent over.
“Fuck,” I whispered, making Emily laugh softly into her gag. I grabbed the neckties holding her elbows together behind her and pulled my naked assistant upright, still holding her from behind. Looking at ourselves in the dressing room mirror, I watched Emily moan softly as she watched me cupping and playing with her breasts, stopping occasionally to kiss her sweat-glossed neck. “Mmmpffff,” she panted rhythmically. I got my phone, and snapped a quick photo of us in the mirror, my arm wrapped around her torso, slightly lifting up her naked chest.
I span Emily around to face me, combing a few strands of hair from her face. “You did great keeping quiet.” My assistant giggled slightly, then shrugged her shoulders, intimating it was hardly a challenge. I traced my index finger lightly across her shoulder, then down the side of her bound arms, before drawing her in to me and squeezing her in an embrace, kissing the top of her forehead. “You’re too good to me,” I said, meaning every word. “Want to get ready for this reception?” Emily nodded, sweetly, hopping back around to give me her bound wrists.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Fully dressed in our cocktail attire, Emily and I both settled in for the short, 30 minute drive back to the campus.
“I’m not sure I’ve been to an event like this,” Emily said bashfully. “Am I going to stick out?”
“Very much so,” I said. “But not for the reasons you’re worried about.” I looked at Emily and smiled. She looked stunning in her blue dress — formal and serious, but still elegant and feminine. I was dumbfounded at the magic she was able to do with a hairbrush and a few short minutes of passenger-seat make-up application. Emily noticed me smiling at her, and blushed, keeping her eyes fixed on the road. The car fell into silence with an exciting, stomach turning tension.
“What are we?” I finally blurt out.
“How do you mean?” My assistant turned toward me, laughing slightly.
“Are we a couple? Or are we just having fun? Or is this something in between? I am having so much fun. And I really, really like you. I just don’t want us to have different expectations of each other and end up hurting one another.” Emily took in what I had just said, nodding to herself. “What do you think?” I continued.
After quietly thinking to herself for several moments, Emily finally turned back to me. “We’re having fun. At least for now.”
“For now?”
“Yes. I like you so much Simon. And I’m having fun too. But we also need to remember that right now, we’re traveling across the country together as part of our jobs. That’s going to end someday. And I’m not saying that when it ends, we should go our separate ways. We might get to that point and both want to stay together. But for now, I think it’s best that we just keep having fun — make all the memories we can, you know?”
“I think you summed up exactly how I feel.” A giant pressure lifted off of my chest. I smiled at the interstate as I guided our car toward the campus. After a while, Emily laughed, reaching across the cabin to pinch my cheek with her fingers.
“Besides, who knows how many more girls you’re going to end up playing with for ‘inspiration.’”
I batted her hand away in fake annoyance. “And you — you going to get jealous if that happens?”
Emily blushed a little. “Maybe. But I can make you jealous too.”
“I doubt that.” I said, teasing her.
“I guess we’ll just have to see, then.”
We turned off the exit, onto the entryway into the college.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The reception took place on the main floor of an old campus library — a distinguished building built in the late 1800s. The interior flooring and walls were mostly made of dark brown wood, and was lit by a range of old fashioned electric yellow lanterns. Soft violin and piano glistened across the room.
Nearly 200 people milled about the main hall, all well-dressed and mild mannered. The guests ranged from members of the English faculty, the Dean of the school, local sponsors and donors, as well as several undergraduates majoring in English or creative writing. What connected everyone there was both an earnest interest in writing and the constant presence of free wine and beer in their hands.
Roughly halfway through the event, around 7:00, Emily broke away from me to continue talking with a small group of senior English majors from the college (I couldn’t help but notice they a eemed very pretty from afar), as they were closer to her age then most of the well-intentioned, gray-headed guests that were coming my way. After enduring a solid fifteen minutes of grueling small talk, a tall, middle-aged brunette woman stepped toward me, smiling.
“Mr. Cusk! I’m so glad you could make it tonight! I was so excited when they accepted my proposal to bring you here.”
From this comment I knew exactly who I was talking to. “Professor Rice! Such a pleasure to finally meet you.” The professor smiled over her glasses at me, revealing brilliantly white teeth behind her dark red lipstick. This was not whom I expected to rendezvous with at the reception, as most female academics I encountered until that point had been wiry, cat-like women with frizzled hair. Professor Rice notably did not fit this stereotype, standing almost even with me, wearing a white dress with gold trim down the sides, which, like Emily’s was structured and not too revealing, but failed to hide her obvious curves and impressively thin waist. Her arms were toned for someone who I imagined was in her forties. Her legs looked as if she was a natural runner. Her chest pushed against the thick fabric of her outfit. Her hair, a sandy, light brown, fell cleanly to her shoulders.
“Please. Call me Meredith.” She extended a hand toward me, which I took, shaking firmly. “How are you liking it here? I heard your reading was a smash. I was distraught to miss it, but was pulled away for an emergency. I imagine you read from your first book? We read it in my class. The students absolutely adored it.”
“It was the most attended reading I’ve had on the tour this far, by no slight margin. I think I have you to thank for that.”
“You have yourself to thank, Mr. Cusk.”
“Simon.”
“Very well, you have yourself to thank, Simon. Most authors I teach don’t draw crowds like that. Which isn’t surprising to me at all. I have to admit I adore your work — your voice is one of my favorites in contemporary fiction. The younger readers as well.”
“That’s incredibly kind, thank you Meredith.”
We chatted for twenty or thirty minutes longer, exploring the ins and outs, the rising and falling of trends in writing recently and the challenges of thriller fiction in the modern day. I was blown away by Meredith’s insight — I had definitely never met someone who thought so sharply and critically about the genre, and was learning a great deal about my own craft by virtue of just listening. After awhile, Professor Rice switched topics.
“So my students and I are dying to know, and I promised to ask you. But what is next? Are you working on anything new?”
“Hardly. I’ve been contending with a real drought this past couple of years. I only recently have been able to cobble anything of use together, and I’m still not sure if it’s any good.”
“This is terribly invasive, I’m sorry, but do you mind if I see it? I’m sworn to secrecy. I’m just dying to know.”
I hesitated, before opening up the document on my phone and handing it to her.
After reading for several minutes, Meredith’s eyes widened. “Oh Simon,” she said, “you really have something here. Is this the opening chapter? It’s so different! It works so well.”
“Thank you,” I said, as years of writers block flooded out of my body through a single sigh.
“How did you get this level of quality after such a long time off? That usually takes people months of struggling to reach where they were.”
Meredith handed my phone backed to me, before dropping it toward the floor. “Shit!” She exclaimed as she reached down to catch it before it hit the ground. Snagging the phone clumsily with both hands, she sighed and reached the phone out to me, before glimpsing at what was now on the screen, and gasping. “Oh my,” she softly let out. There on the phone was the picture of Emily from earlier today, bound and gagged in the department store dressing room, with me holding her behind her.
“Shit! You aren’t supposed to see that. I’m so sorry.” Meredith stared blankly at me.
“That’s my assistant. Her name is Emily. She’s standing right over there.” I paused, sweating profusely at Meredith’s empty gaze. “It’s not professional, I know. But it’s….it’s actually what’s jogged me out of my writing slump. She came up with the idea, and ever since we started playing these…these games, I’ve been able to just write without feeling my usual inhibitions. You have to believe me.”
Meredith paused for several moments longer, staring across the hall toward Emily, who was giggling in her small crowd if you get women, while also glancing back toward the professor and I.
“I believe you,” she finally said. She paused for what seemed like forever, before inhaling sharply. “And while I’m surprised by your methods, at least they’re clearly working. I’d give anything to get out of my own writing slump, so I know it must be such a great change to finally be able to get back to that part of your life.”
“Hello!” Suddenly, Emily and the three college students appeared next to us. Emily extended her hand out to Meredith. “My name is Emily Clay. I’m Simon’s assistant.”
“I’ve heard great things about you Emily.” Meredith grinned wryly as she shook hands with Emily.
“Simon, these are a few of my students — meet Hannah, Katie, and Ellen.” Professor motioned toward the three younger women with Emily.
“Pleasure to meet you all.”
“We’re huge fans of yours, Mr. Cusk. Emily’s been giving us the rundown of how lucky she is to be working with you.” A short, curvaceous blonde stepped forward slightly. “She was very detailed in how close you two get to work together.” She smiled and glanced toward Emily, who blushed and pretended to be distracted.
“We’re actually quite jealous.” Another one of the girls, a thin, statuesque red-head, chimed in.
“I think I actually believe I may have just stumbled on these same details, ladies.” Professor Rice shot a devilish look my way, which startled Emily and I both.
“Oh REALLY?” Emily interjected, staring at me with huge eyes. It was clear that neither of us had done a very good job of keeping the nature of our relationship a secret from the other four women around us.
“Really.” Professor Rice continued. “And I’ve got to say, I’m truly jealous of the results. I’ve been stuck for years on my next novel as well. I’d kill to break this curse like Simon has appeared to.” She hesitated again. “I’m almost tempted to hire you myself.”
Emily glanced toward me, paused for a moment, then smiled sweetly toward Meredith. “Well in that case, Professor, I’m almost tempted to work with you.” My assistant looked toward me with a sinister glimmer in her eyes. “If only Simon weren’t such a jealous type.”
Flustered a little, and loosened considerably by the emptied wine glass in her hand, Professor Rice looked toward me. “Jealous? Oh Simon. That’s so outdated.”
“I’m not jealous!” I shot back to the two of them. “I just have no way to get back to the hotel without Emily, if she drives with you. That’s all. Pure logistics.”
Meredith and Emily both laughed in ridicule toward me, clearly having gotten me to backtrack into a nervous, immature defense of keeping my assistant to myself.
“I think we have a solution.” The third college student, also blonde, stepped into the conversation. She was tall, and incredibly fit, wearing a short green cocktail dress that showed off her long, tan legs. She grinned with sharp blue eyes toward me. “What if we give Mr. Cusk a ride home? We could keep him company until he’s ready to head back to the hotel.”
Emily’s eyes widened, as she watched me look the three gorgeous college students up and down, each of them smiling and batting their eyes toward me. Her face flushed as she looked at what I’d say.
“Well, Professor, if you think it would help, then who am I to keep her magic all to myself?”
“Splendid. Emily, are you still interested in working together?”
Emily grinned at me, mouthing the word “asshole,” and turned back to Meredith. “Of course I am, Professor. It would be an honor.”
As the two walked out of the ancient library, my phone went off. It was a text from Emily. “I’ll be sure to send you A LOT of pictures, since you’re not the jealous type…”
I looked up at the three beautiful young women in front of me, as they each motioned me to the door.
“So will I — have fun tonight, Miss Clay.”
“You too, Mr. Cusk.”
Book Tour — New Assistant (M/F, M/FF) Part 16 Added (5/8/2024)
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TapeTurtle
- Forum Contributer
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- Location: East Coast, U.S.
Excellent! Nice to see Emily is happy in a strappado. Now what will happen with the three coed? What have they learned from Emily?
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Better and better!
All valid questions! Looking forward to the next part!
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TapeTurtle
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 83
- Joined: 1 year ago
- Location: East Coast, U.S.
Sorry for the long time away!
Part Fourteen:
Several hour later, I stepped out of the apartment that the three girls shared and onto the patio, placing bot of my hands on the rail and staring out over both the small, modest college town and the sprawling campus. Small, sharp glints of light salted the dark below me. I took a deep breath and pulled a cigarette from my pocket. I hadn't smoked much around Emily, but alone, I felt less inclined to keep up the appearance that I always took care of myself the way I'm supposed to.
I let out a deep cloud of smoke into the cool night air, watching it dissipate into the dark. The past few hours had been cloudy, too. I turned my head back toward the apartment, trying to put the pieces back together. I remember the ride from the cocktail event after the reading back to the apartment, and the girls stopping at a few stores for alcohol and snacks and other items they "wouldn't show me until later." I remember the first thirty minutes of drinking at the apartment, how shot after shot appeared in front of me without me once touching a bottle. I remember the first time Hannah, the statuesque redhead, pulled out one of the secret bag from the car and threw it onto the table -- duct tape, sponges, ropes, and zipties all spilling out across the surface. There was laughter, there was lip-biting, they was pleading and begging and teasing. The last thing I remember, barely, before I came out to the patio for a smoke, was standing up and issuing a grave statement to the young, gorgeous college students.
"I'm afraid I'm exhausted," I said, glumly. "I only have the energy to have fun with one beautiful young woman tonight. Three might kill me."
Dumbstruck, bordering furious, Hannah shot back. "What the hell does that mean?"
I motioned to the pile of materials littered across the coffee table. "That means you're going to have to fight amongst yourselves for who it will be..." Finally catching on, all three girls smiled, laughed, and nodded. I turned around, and stepped through the sliding glass door as I heard some rustling behind me.
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After 20 minutes of relaxing and trying to sober up enough to regain control of myself, I turned around to head back into the apartment. A bright flash of white emanated up from my phone. It was a text from Emily. I smiled it and opened it, almost choking on my own spit as an image spread across the screen. It was a photo of Emily, but it wasn't her who had taken the picture. I knew this because both of her wrists had been bound with green rope in front of her, and hoisted up all the way over her head. Her mouth had been filled with a giant orange ball gag. Drool was spilling out of her mouth, onto her naked chest. Her eyes were wide open, conveying either surprise, fear, pleasure, or perhaps a mix of the three.
"Apparently, my mission was to make you jealous. Is it working? -- Professor Rice." The text underneath the photo of my captured assistant sent a stab of something foreign into my gut. It was jealousy. But it was also excitement. I grinned at the photo and typed a quick reply back.
"Please notify my assistant that I'm a little too busy with who I have over here to register any real feelings of envy. But please, have a good time with her."
A few moments later, a new text popped up. "Oh I will." It was Professor Rice again, but not only in text. She had sent another picture. This one was a selfie. In it, she was standing behind the strung up, gagged Emily. To my shock, the professor was wearing only a red satin bra and matching panties. Her tight, muscled body and incredible curvature held its own pressed up behind Emily's. Her off hand was clutching a palmful of Emily's heavy breast. Even more -- she had gagged herself. Several modest strips of red duct tape across her own, full lips. A final text appeared under the photo. "If you get bored over there..." The text ended with a street address.
Almost dizzy, and a little confused, I shook my head, collected myself, and opened the screen door to the apartment, stepping back inside to see what was waiting for me.
To my surprise, the apartment was silent. The living room I had left the girls in was empty. The bondage materials had also disappeared, and was replaced only by a single, scribbled note. "Looks like I won. Meet me in the bathroom. First door on the right down the hall."
I smiled. I was happy to see that even the young, energetic girls here knew how to really play. I tucked my phone into my pocket, and headed to the bathroom. The apartment remained eerily quiet as I creaked the bathroom door open. Ellen, the tall, athletic blonde stood triumphantly in front of me, arms crossed over her ample chest. "I've been waiting for a while...Did you really think it was going to take me that long to handle those two little weaklings?" She batted her fierce blue eyes at me and smiled. She was still wearing the short, green cocktail dress from the event, only now her hair was tied up into a ponytail, and she had abandoned her high heels somewhere.
"Sorry for the disrespect," I joked, stepping fully inside and closing the door behind me. For a small student apartment, I was surprised to see how roomy the bathroom was. It had a counter with three sinks, a large rainforest shower, and a separate tub in the corner, large enough to fit three or four people snugly. "These are a lot nicer than when I went to school." I looked around the empty room, and back at Ellen. "Did your friends give up and go to bed?"
Ellen laughed. "Don't worry about them. They're unhappy, but they'll stay out of the way as long as we need them to." She took a step closer to me, grabbing my shirt with both of her hands delicately. "I am too much of a fan of yours to lose the chance to do this..." She kissed me, pulling both of her arms around my neck and pulling me in closely. I kissed her back uncertainly at first, eventually giving in, pulling her waist into me with my large arms and letting my hands roam.
Ellen smiled as she pulled away from me slightly, staring into my eyes just a few inches from hers and placing her hands on my face lightly. "Don't kid yourself though, Mr. Cusk. I didn't call you in here just to kiss you..." She pulled away completely, heading toward the tub, reaching inside, and pulling out the heavy grocery bag full of bondage supplies. "This is what you were looking for, isn't it?"
I blushed. "Give that to me," I ordered, changing my tone slightly. I could tell the shift in my voice thrilled her by the way her eyes opened wide. She complied. I pulled out a long length of black cloth. "I don't want you to see what happens next."
Grinning and biting her lip, Ellen accepted the cloth from me and blindfolded herself. "I'm in trouble aren't I?" she joked.
"You have no idea," I replied, eliciting a smile from the fit, sexy blonde.
Part Fourteen:
Several hour later, I stepped out of the apartment that the three girls shared and onto the patio, placing bot of my hands on the rail and staring out over both the small, modest college town and the sprawling campus. Small, sharp glints of light salted the dark below me. I took a deep breath and pulled a cigarette from my pocket. I hadn't smoked much around Emily, but alone, I felt less inclined to keep up the appearance that I always took care of myself the way I'm supposed to.
I let out a deep cloud of smoke into the cool night air, watching it dissipate into the dark. The past few hours had been cloudy, too. I turned my head back toward the apartment, trying to put the pieces back together. I remember the ride from the cocktail event after the reading back to the apartment, and the girls stopping at a few stores for alcohol and snacks and other items they "wouldn't show me until later." I remember the first thirty minutes of drinking at the apartment, how shot after shot appeared in front of me without me once touching a bottle. I remember the first time Hannah, the statuesque redhead, pulled out one of the secret bag from the car and threw it onto the table -- duct tape, sponges, ropes, and zipties all spilling out across the surface. There was laughter, there was lip-biting, they was pleading and begging and teasing. The last thing I remember, barely, before I came out to the patio for a smoke, was standing up and issuing a grave statement to the young, gorgeous college students.
"I'm afraid I'm exhausted," I said, glumly. "I only have the energy to have fun with one beautiful young woman tonight. Three might kill me."
Dumbstruck, bordering furious, Hannah shot back. "What the hell does that mean?"
I motioned to the pile of materials littered across the coffee table. "That means you're going to have to fight amongst yourselves for who it will be..." Finally catching on, all three girls smiled, laughed, and nodded. I turned around, and stepped through the sliding glass door as I heard some rustling behind me.
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After 20 minutes of relaxing and trying to sober up enough to regain control of myself, I turned around to head back into the apartment. A bright flash of white emanated up from my phone. It was a text from Emily. I smiled it and opened it, almost choking on my own spit as an image spread across the screen. It was a photo of Emily, but it wasn't her who had taken the picture. I knew this because both of her wrists had been bound with green rope in front of her, and hoisted up all the way over her head. Her mouth had been filled with a giant orange ball gag. Drool was spilling out of her mouth, onto her naked chest. Her eyes were wide open, conveying either surprise, fear, pleasure, or perhaps a mix of the three.
"Apparently, my mission was to make you jealous. Is it working? -- Professor Rice." The text underneath the photo of my captured assistant sent a stab of something foreign into my gut. It was jealousy. But it was also excitement. I grinned at the photo and typed a quick reply back.
"Please notify my assistant that I'm a little too busy with who I have over here to register any real feelings of envy. But please, have a good time with her."
A few moments later, a new text popped up. "Oh I will." It was Professor Rice again, but not only in text. She had sent another picture. This one was a selfie. In it, she was standing behind the strung up, gagged Emily. To my shock, the professor was wearing only a red satin bra and matching panties. Her tight, muscled body and incredible curvature held its own pressed up behind Emily's. Her off hand was clutching a palmful of Emily's heavy breast. Even more -- she had gagged herself. Several modest strips of red duct tape across her own, full lips. A final text appeared under the photo. "If you get bored over there..." The text ended with a street address.
Almost dizzy, and a little confused, I shook my head, collected myself, and opened the screen door to the apartment, stepping back inside to see what was waiting for me.
To my surprise, the apartment was silent. The living room I had left the girls in was empty. The bondage materials had also disappeared, and was replaced only by a single, scribbled note. "Looks like I won. Meet me in the bathroom. First door on the right down the hall."
I smiled. I was happy to see that even the young, energetic girls here knew how to really play. I tucked my phone into my pocket, and headed to the bathroom. The apartment remained eerily quiet as I creaked the bathroom door open. Ellen, the tall, athletic blonde stood triumphantly in front of me, arms crossed over her ample chest. "I've been waiting for a while...Did you really think it was going to take me that long to handle those two little weaklings?" She batted her fierce blue eyes at me and smiled. She was still wearing the short, green cocktail dress from the event, only now her hair was tied up into a ponytail, and she had abandoned her high heels somewhere.
"Sorry for the disrespect," I joked, stepping fully inside and closing the door behind me. For a small student apartment, I was surprised to see how roomy the bathroom was. It had a counter with three sinks, a large rainforest shower, and a separate tub in the corner, large enough to fit three or four people snugly. "These are a lot nicer than when I went to school." I looked around the empty room, and back at Ellen. "Did your friends give up and go to bed?"
Ellen laughed. "Don't worry about them. They're unhappy, but they'll stay out of the way as long as we need them to." She took a step closer to me, grabbing my shirt with both of her hands delicately. "I am too much of a fan of yours to lose the chance to do this..." She kissed me, pulling both of her arms around my neck and pulling me in closely. I kissed her back uncertainly at first, eventually giving in, pulling her waist into me with my large arms and letting my hands roam.
Ellen smiled as she pulled away from me slightly, staring into my eyes just a few inches from hers and placing her hands on my face lightly. "Don't kid yourself though, Mr. Cusk. I didn't call you in here just to kiss you..." She pulled away completely, heading toward the tub, reaching inside, and pulling out the heavy grocery bag full of bondage supplies. "This is what you were looking for, isn't it?"
I blushed. "Give that to me," I ordered, changing my tone slightly. I could tell the shift in my voice thrilled her by the way her eyes opened wide. She complied. I pulled out a long length of black cloth. "I don't want you to see what happens next."
Grinning and biting her lip, Ellen accepted the cloth from me and blindfolded herself. "I'm in trouble aren't I?" she joked.
"You have no idea," I replied, eliciting a smile from the fit, sexy blonde.
Great segment! Good on its own, and so full of possibilities! Can't wait to see what happens with Ellen, and I'd love to see how she took care of her competitors. And nice setup with the professor! So many possibilities....
I hope you feel inspired to continue.
I hope you feel inspired to continue.
Great to see this story updated. Hopefully you continue with it as I love this story and the concept.
can't wait for further updates. love the story with Emily
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TapeTurtle
- Forum Contributer
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- Location: East Coast, U.S.
Part Sixteen:
I stood contemplating for almost a whole minute, staring at Ellen like a painter stares at a Canvas. A toothy smile spread across her face as she tilted her head up and to the side, trying to hear my nonexistent movements. Grinning to myself, completely invisible to the young blonde college student, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture of her standing there in her short green dress. I quickly texted the photo to Emily, or to whomever it was who currently had Emily's phone.
"Any suggestions?" I typed underneath the photo.
"Do you really need me to do all the work for you?" Emily or Professor Rice texted back.
I grinned and put the phone back into my pocket. I let my eyes fall down the sharp angles of Ellen's toned, athletic body. Her precise jawline, her tight neck and collarbone, her flat stomach, strong thighs, and thin ankles. I pulled my eyes back up over her, transfixed by the contrasting soft curves: her wide hips, heavy chest and steep cleavage, and her incredibly well shaped ass. All of her body seemed to know exactly how far to stretch the glittering green fabric of the dress without seeming forced, while all fitting skin-tight against her skin. I had an idea, and headed toward the bag, pulling out a sponge and soe silver duct tape.
"Last chance to change your mind, Ellen. You ready?"
"Is that supposed to scare me? Good luck with that." Ellen shot a confident smile back at wherever she thought I was standing. She reminded, briefly, of Emily.
"Here, take this," handing Ellen the large purple sponge. "I think it will fit nicely in that big mouth of yours."
Without saying a word, Ellen complied, smiling as she opened her mouth and forced the large round sponge in, having to push with two hands before her lips could close around it. Her cheeks bulged slightly as she pursed her lips together. "Mhhmm?" She said, asking me what next. Without speaking, I handed her three long strips of the duct tape. Giggling, and trying not to spit out the sponge, she quickly followed my unspoken orders. Ellen stretched the tape tightly with both hands before pulling each strip onto her lips. Once all three had been applied, she smoothened them out with her hands, smiling -- I think. "Mmmmphhmmh hmmp mmphh." She placed her hands on her hips and continued staring off toward the sound of me.
"Good job -- you've got a lot of potential, it seems!" Ellen made a sarcastic sound that made it seem like she was rolling her eyes behind the blindfold. "Let's make you more comfortable, yeah? You can take your dress off now."
Ellen complied again, this time with less humor. She slowly pulled off one shoulder strap, and then another. Inch by inch, she slid her green dress down her body. Once it reached the floor, she carefully stepped out of it, and placed her hands back on her hips.
Emily's is my favorite body I have ever seen without clothing -- that has never changed, even now. Ellen's now would become easily my second. Her matching green underwear barely covered what I believe to be the most dramatic mix of muscle, tone, and curves I have ever seen. Her tan skin somehow became tanner with just her underwear to contrast it. Ellen tilted her head, blindfolded and gagged, waiting for a reaction.
"Well...you clearly spend a lot of time in the campus gym." This was the best I could come up with. I was immediately grateful Ellen couldn't see me smack my own forehead.
"Hmmffphhfmm." She laughed in mutual embarrassment and nodded her head up and down, leaning forward just enough to exaggerate her ample chest.
"Well...in that case...don't stop on my account."
Ellen laughed once again, crossing her arms and shaking her head in mock exasperation. Nevertheless, she immediately folder her arms behind her back to unhook her bra, tossing it to the floor and letting her perky, D-sized breasts bobble in place. She fold her arms, across her stomach, under her chest, tilting her head to the side. "Mmpphhhff?" she asked seductively.
"That will do...for now." I said, grabbing several lengths of rope and striding hurriedly toward her.
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I finished my work with an elevated sense of pace. The sight and sounds of the young, energetic girl naked, bound, blindfolded, and gagged in front of me heightened my adrenaline to a level that was completely new to me, even after the past glorious weeks. I grabbed my phone and pointed toward Ellen, beginning to record a video.
I aimed at the camera at her back first, studying the strict reverse-prayer tie I had left her in. I zoomed in on the way the precarious pose made her wrists and elbows seem delicate in their unnatural position. I panned down past her bulbous ass to her ankles, which had been tightly cinched together in the tan rope. Rotating to the front, I backed up and panned up over her exposed front. Ellen's large breasts heaved as she breathed in and out deeply, fighting both the exertion of staying upright on her feet, and the mounting sexual tension she was feeling against the rope.
"Doing okay?" I called out from behind the camera. Ellen nodded slowly, her head lolling to the side slightly. "Want to stop?" Ellen laughed, shaking her head no.
I turned the camera off. Before putting the phone back into my pocket, I sent the video to Emily's phone, without comment.
"Do you want me to take the gag out?" I asked to Ellen, walking up to her front and placing my hands on her shoulders, running my index finger down her neck and onto her collarbone. The imprisoned blonde shook her head no.
Losing control of myself, I leaned in and kissed her four times softly back up her neck, and onto her jaw. The loud, powerful moan that barely made its way past the sponge inside her mouth told me exactly what she wanted to do next.
"You're sweating an awful lot, Ellen," I said -- which was true. Her skin glistened under the ceiling light. I placed a hand on her exposed breast, cupping and squeezing lightly. "Do you want me take you into the shower for a little bit?"
The moan that Ellen let out in that moment startled me with its forcefulness. She nodded her head up and down vigorously, leaning forward into my chest blindly and without control.
I stood contemplating for almost a whole minute, staring at Ellen like a painter stares at a Canvas. A toothy smile spread across her face as she tilted her head up and to the side, trying to hear my nonexistent movements. Grinning to myself, completely invisible to the young blonde college student, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture of her standing there in her short green dress. I quickly texted the photo to Emily, or to whomever it was who currently had Emily's phone.
"Any suggestions?" I typed underneath the photo.
"Do you really need me to do all the work for you?" Emily or Professor Rice texted back.
I grinned and put the phone back into my pocket. I let my eyes fall down the sharp angles of Ellen's toned, athletic body. Her precise jawline, her tight neck and collarbone, her flat stomach, strong thighs, and thin ankles. I pulled my eyes back up over her, transfixed by the contrasting soft curves: her wide hips, heavy chest and steep cleavage, and her incredibly well shaped ass. All of her body seemed to know exactly how far to stretch the glittering green fabric of the dress without seeming forced, while all fitting skin-tight against her skin. I had an idea, and headed toward the bag, pulling out a sponge and soe silver duct tape.
"Last chance to change your mind, Ellen. You ready?"
"Is that supposed to scare me? Good luck with that." Ellen shot a confident smile back at wherever she thought I was standing. She reminded, briefly, of Emily.
"Here, take this," handing Ellen the large purple sponge. "I think it will fit nicely in that big mouth of yours."
Without saying a word, Ellen complied, smiling as she opened her mouth and forced the large round sponge in, having to push with two hands before her lips could close around it. Her cheeks bulged slightly as she pursed her lips together. "Mhhmm?" She said, asking me what next. Without speaking, I handed her three long strips of the duct tape. Giggling, and trying not to spit out the sponge, she quickly followed my unspoken orders. Ellen stretched the tape tightly with both hands before pulling each strip onto her lips. Once all three had been applied, she smoothened them out with her hands, smiling -- I think. "Mmmmphhmmh hmmp mmphh." She placed her hands on her hips and continued staring off toward the sound of me.
"Good job -- you've got a lot of potential, it seems!" Ellen made a sarcastic sound that made it seem like she was rolling her eyes behind the blindfold. "Let's make you more comfortable, yeah? You can take your dress off now."
Ellen complied again, this time with less humor. She slowly pulled off one shoulder strap, and then another. Inch by inch, she slid her green dress down her body. Once it reached the floor, she carefully stepped out of it, and placed her hands back on her hips.
Emily's is my favorite body I have ever seen without clothing -- that has never changed, even now. Ellen's now would become easily my second. Her matching green underwear barely covered what I believe to be the most dramatic mix of muscle, tone, and curves I have ever seen. Her tan skin somehow became tanner with just her underwear to contrast it. Ellen tilted her head, blindfolded and gagged, waiting for a reaction.
"Well...you clearly spend a lot of time in the campus gym." This was the best I could come up with. I was immediately grateful Ellen couldn't see me smack my own forehead.
"Hmmffphhfmm." She laughed in mutual embarrassment and nodded her head up and down, leaning forward just enough to exaggerate her ample chest.
"Well...in that case...don't stop on my account."
Ellen laughed once again, crossing her arms and shaking her head in mock exasperation. Nevertheless, she immediately folder her arms behind her back to unhook her bra, tossing it to the floor and letting her perky, D-sized breasts bobble in place. She fold her arms, across her stomach, under her chest, tilting her head to the side. "Mmpphhhff?" she asked seductively.
"That will do...for now." I said, grabbing several lengths of rope and striding hurriedly toward her.
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I finished my work with an elevated sense of pace. The sight and sounds of the young, energetic girl naked, bound, blindfolded, and gagged in front of me heightened my adrenaline to a level that was completely new to me, even after the past glorious weeks. I grabbed my phone and pointed toward Ellen, beginning to record a video.
I aimed at the camera at her back first, studying the strict reverse-prayer tie I had left her in. I zoomed in on the way the precarious pose made her wrists and elbows seem delicate in their unnatural position. I panned down past her bulbous ass to her ankles, which had been tightly cinched together in the tan rope. Rotating to the front, I backed up and panned up over her exposed front. Ellen's large breasts heaved as she breathed in and out deeply, fighting both the exertion of staying upright on her feet, and the mounting sexual tension she was feeling against the rope.
"Doing okay?" I called out from behind the camera. Ellen nodded slowly, her head lolling to the side slightly. "Want to stop?" Ellen laughed, shaking her head no.
I turned the camera off. Before putting the phone back into my pocket, I sent the video to Emily's phone, without comment.
"Do you want me to take the gag out?" I asked to Ellen, walking up to her front and placing my hands on her shoulders, running my index finger down her neck and onto her collarbone. The imprisoned blonde shook her head no.
Losing control of myself, I leaned in and kissed her four times softly back up her neck, and onto her jaw. The loud, powerful moan that barely made its way past the sponge inside her mouth told me exactly what she wanted to do next.
"You're sweating an awful lot, Ellen," I said -- which was true. Her skin glistened under the ceiling light. I placed a hand on her exposed breast, cupping and squeezing lightly. "Do you want me take you into the shower for a little bit?"
The moan that Ellen let out in that moment startled me with its forcefulness. She nodded her head up and down vigorously, leaning forward into my chest blindly and without control.
It will be interesting in what Predicament Emily or the Professor are!