THE LIBRARY: Trying Out Part 30

trying30TRYING OUT Part Thirty {CONTINUED FROM HERE}
{This story originally appeared on BDSMARTWORK and features some amazing art by Steve. We thank them for letting us share it with you here}

He propelled her jerking, gargling, form through the van’s silently sliding automatic door. Swanson was already driving as the door closed behind them.

The witch drove slowly and carefully back into the main part of the parking lot as Al quickly slid the penis-prod deep into Gwen’s lax, open mouth, and then buckled it brutally tight beneath her silken, breast-topping, blonde mane – sealing her mouth and mashing her lips against the padded panel gag.

Swanson glanced up at the rear view mirror in time to see him sit the girl up on the van’s padded floor so he could pull-tie her wrists behind her.

And then, without further ado, he started tearing. First the hoodie came off her body, then the t-shirt, revealing her magnificent chest presented in a black nylon spandex demi bra that was full to capacity.

“What do you think?” Swanson rumbled hoarsely. “Thirty-two double d?”

He didn’t answer, just snapped open her jeans and tugged until the matching black thong panty was revealed. Swanson said nothing, but expertly judged the girl’s incredible twenty-two inch waist, and thirty-two inch hips.

Al had wanted the blonde all along. It was only the witch who had insisted on teaching Claire a lesson. But now, with the brunette gone, and who-knows-what problems heading their way, both were convinced that, if they were going to go out, they were going to go out with a bang.

Swanson cautiously made her way to the exit where the lanes were filled with cars waiting for the light. She only looked back in the rearview when she heard the girl make noise. Gwen was on her face on the van floor, her expression suffused with shocked disbelief and outrage above the cheek-bulging penis-prod panel gag.

Her pants were down at her shins. Her panties were flopped to the side holding on to only one thigh. Her bra was under her chin. The remnants of her t-shirt and hoodie were like wings on either side of her. Her sneaker tips thudded into the floor’s matting.

Al was holding her head up by her forehead with one hand while grinding her right tit with the other.

They both jerked forward and back again and again as the deliveryman thrust into her. Poor little Gwenny made animal noises and muffled pleads as he unceremoniously pounded all his frustration and fear into her lovely little body.

“There, there, dearie,” Swanson “soothed” to the wide-eyed reflection. “What did you think would happen when those things popped out on your chest? And that face? That hair? Why, you’re the hottest thing in school, and you were doing nothing with it. Nothing! Come on, now, little Miss Hennessy, with your little hands and little feet and big eyes and big boobs. It was only a matter of time, sweetie.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Al growled as he jammed all the way into the cringing girl. “You’re distracting her.” He dragged the power-packed little blonde back until they were locked together.

All Swanson could see were big, blue, frightened, agonized eyes peering out from a hulking, plunging covering.

TO BE CONTINUED

THE LIBRARY: Trying Out Part 29

trying29TRYING OUT Part Twenty-Nine {CONTINUED FROM HERE}
{This story originally appeared on BDSMARTWORK and features some amazing art by Steve. We thank them for letting us share it with you here}

“You like it?” he asked stupidly. “I got a lot of stuff left behind in the rooms. Kids’ stuff, and hookers’ stuff too, I guess. But you don’t look like a hooker….”

Claire tried to slide or punch or kick out from all the cords and belts. Her fingers clawed and reached, but she just couldn’t get any leverage. She wriggled around like a hooked worm, mewling in frustration.

“There, there,” he said, kneeling beside her glorious, pinioned, form. He put his hand on her hip and forehead. “Where’d they get you from? School? You really their daughter? Some sort of parent abduction?” She stared up at him in exhausted anger. “Ok, ok,” he responded. “I get it. But…but they already took you, and already … did stuff to you, so I figured….”

His hand slipped into the cheap, plasticky white top and his fingers nestled her beautiful, full right breast as she groaned.

“It’s boring here, ok?” he whined. “Nothing to do. But with you here…?!” His other hand snaked under the skirt hem to find her firm, slim thigh. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “It’s not like I could save you really. I mean, they already did all that stuff to you, right…?”

Claire Holden tried to scream as he slowly, clumsily, heavily, lay on her.

“Hey Gwenny,” Dorothy Swanson called. Gwen Hennessy looked up from the recessed employee’s door of the clothes store.

She wore a black store t-shirt under a maroon zip-up hoodie above a pair of those skintight, super-stretch denims, and white sneakers.

But there was no disguising her amazing face, hair, and body.

A natural blonde with the biggest, clearest, blue eyes the witch had ever seen on a human, Gwen Hennessy couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, but with big, high, ball breasts; a tiny waist; smooth, curving haunches; shapely legs, and perfect little feet.

“Hey, Ms. Swanson,” she replied with a surprised, relieved, smile, stepping toward the van. “What are you doing here?”

Here was behind the mall just after dusk. The store would be open for hours yet, but the managers didn’t let the student employees work more than two hundred and forty minutes.

“Just doing some shopping,” said the teacher. “Wanted to find a short cut out. You off work?” As if she didn’t know.

“Yeah,” said the girl, looking both ways (to see no one). “Just now.”

“Cool,” said the teacher. “What’s the best way out of here?”

There was a breathless moment when the little, power-packed, blonde just stared, but then she shrugged and her face cleared, as if she had won, or lost, an argument with herself. The witch could practically hear it in her mind.

“Relax, Gwenny, she’s just your teacher! What do you think’s gonna happen if you answer her, a pop quiz?”

Gwen Hennessy stepped forward, looked toward the back of the parking lot, pointed, and started to talk.

She only got to “You just go over…,” before Al sildled silently up behind her, pressed the tazer against her back at the same moment he clamped the moist washcloth over her gleaming lips.

TO BE CONTINUED

TYLER NOVELS: PREY MATES II The Abductions Continue

preymatesiicoverThe ex-white slaver known only as Tyler has been chasing two sick siblings as they stalk, snatch, silence, restrain, secret, and subjugate scores of beautiful young women who made one simple mistake -- auditioning for a once-famed, now fading, publishing empire. The tale of twisted terror finally climaxes in what has become known as the Plaything and Prey Mates saga, as a stunningly pretty Amerasian struggles to escape her evil heritage, and an gorgeously innocent Scandinavian au pair runs afoul of an entire perverted family.

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Inside, Kristine Holland stood against the far wall. All she wore was a tight, pink, fuzzy, short-sleeved sweater which buttoned up to mid-chest, and a pair of high cut pink cotton panties.
Perhaps "stood" is not the accurate word. Her toes were splayed beneath her pointed feet, gripping a soccer ball for all she was worth, her body moving wretchedly against the cinder block wall as she tried to maintain her balance––her arms wrenched high up her back and tied with thin black tape and electrical cord.
She didn't have to worry as much about keeping her legs together. White electrical cord tied her knees five times around, and black tape affixed her thighs just above them.
Her head was down, her mouth pried open to its widest aperture by a huge ball of cloth wedged behind her lips and teeth, held in by a cruelly tight band of thick rubber-coated wire, which went down to circle her throat while also going up to affix around an overhead pipe in an eight-banded noose knot.
Winnie looked proudly up at her handiwork, then down to make sure the butcher knife she had gotten from the kitchen was still where she left it on the plastic toy chest nearby. "Boys," she said, "Come in and close the door behind you. Timmy? Lock it.”

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THE LIBRARY: Trying Out Part 28

trying28TRYING OUT Part Twenty-Eight {CONTINUED FROM HERE}
{This story originally appeared on BDSMARTWORK and features some amazing art by Steve. We thank them for letting us share it with you here}

There was only the sound of frantic thrashing … but no screams. Just gasps, grunts, and groans. Then there was a sharp and sudden thunk.

And after that, nothing … nothing save for the wheeze of deep, heavy breathing.

The deliveryman starred at the motel’s front office through the grimy window of their room. The deskman sat there, watching TV.

“Well,” said Swanson. “What’re you waiting for?”

He looked back at his partner in crime with annoyance. “And what am I supposed to say? ‘Seen my daughter go by?’”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to say.”

“And what if he thinks calling the cops is a good idea?”

“He had to have helped her,” she muttered.

“So?” he retorted. “He sure had a pass key, and maybe he even had a handcuff key. The question is, what are we going to do about it?” The teacher looked at the deliveryman with growing understanding. “That’s right, you got it. What’ll you do, hold him down while I work him over? Yeah, right.” He looked back at the motel office.

“Overpowering sexy little bitches, is no problem.

Anyone else…?” He shook his head in self-loathing.

“So, what do we do?” she wondered.

“The way I figure it,” he answered, “we got two choices, but only one answer. One, we go in there and beat the crap out of him. If he has her, we take her and run. If he doesn’t, we run. Two, we do a quick search for her. If we find her, we take her and run.

If we don’t, she may have reached the cops, and we’ll have to make a run for it anyway. Hell, they might already be on the way. So what’s the common denominator in our choices?”

The two headed for the unmarked delivery van. “You know we may have to go underground for awhile,” she said.

He snorted while opening the driver’s door. “Tell me about it. But I’ll tell you one thing in return.” He stared at her, his eyes blazing with projected loathing and impotent frustration. “We won’t be going alone.”
"They’re gone,” the deskman said.

Claire looked up at him with blazing hatred and agony. He had slammed her against the desk, knocking the wind out of her. Then his hand was in her hair and pushing down. Her forehead hit the desktop and then she didn’t know anything until she woke up who-knows-how-long later.

By now, she was frozen by the new extremity of her situation. Unlike her evil teacher and the deliveryman, the motel deskman seemingly knew nothing about binding and gagging someone … so he apparently overcompensated.

Her mouth was stuffed, her lips taped, her lower face bandaged, and then an elastic cloth was tied tightly from the bottom of her eyes to beneath her chin … making it even more difficult to breathe.

Ropes and straps were everywhere: over each arm, over both arms, across her chest, between her shoulders, around her waist, across her torso, between her legs, around her ankles, around her shins, around her thighs, everywhere – all ridiculously tight. She felt as if her body and head were in a skintight tarp, which was also in her mouth. She moaned softly and writhed weakly on the floor at his feet.

“They left about ten minutes ago,” he informed her, licking his lips. “After I changed your clothes.”

She tried to look down at herself. Her smooth, soft, skin was everywhere in her vision.

Only a small swash of tight white was barely containing her bulging breasts, while a tartan, pleated, glorified belt hung onto her shapely hips.

TO BE CONTINUED

THE LIBRARY: Trying Out Part 27

TRYING OUT Part Twenty-Seven {CONTINUED FROM HERE}
{This story originally appeared on BDSMARTWORK and features some amazing art by Steve. We thank them for letting us share it with you here}

trying27“That’s my line,” the delivery man snorted as the dildo and butt plug hit the floor. The witch quickly pressed a pillow over Claire’s mewling face as he jammed his cock deep inside her once more.
Claire’s eyes snapped open in the pitch black room to see the deskman’s face with his finger up to his lips. If she hadn’t been so astonished, she would have rolled her eyes at the ludicrousness of the gesture. Of course she was going to keep quiet! The plug in her mouth, the pad over her lips, the straps over her head, around her skull, and under her chin would see to that.

She was equally astonished that they hadn’t gone to sleep with her handcuffed around his torso or him spooning her.

Instead she lay between her captors, a second skin latex basque adhered to her curves, ending in a garter belt holding up black thigh-high stockings under black patent leather high heel pumps.

Her wrists were hand-cuffed around the metal headboard slats and ankles cuffed around the baseboard slats …only they weren’t any longer.

The deskman had a handcuff key. She was, for the first time, in days, free. But it was like waking up in a lion’s den or a minefield. The deskman motioned at her to come, but very carefully. Claire completely comprehended the situation, and breathed deeply, trying to control herself … and failing to keep the deskman’s eyes from her breasts, which swelled up to fill the basque to bursting.

But then he motioned again to the head and baseboards, and finished with a carrying motion. She felt a twinge of doubt, but then realized how small she was. She cautiously stretched, letting the solid old bed frame take her weight at the wrists and ankles until she hovered above the bedsheets. The deskman instantly snatched her up and over the mattress, and silently stood her on the floor. He immediately took her hand and walked into the equally dark night, quickly and soundlessly closing the door behind them.

Claire Holden felt faint, but the deskman pointed sharply at her high heels, then swept her back into his arms. He ran across the darkened parking lot to the office and didn’t set her down until they were in the back room. Claire looked achingly at the phone and immediately started to undo the harness gag. But her fingers felt like boiled noodles.

“We’ve got to be quick,” the deskman whispered, tossing a thin towel to her. “We’ve got to get you out of sight!”

Claire stared at him in alarm, affixing the towel around her waist to cover her crotch (making it look like a slit miniskirt)

Then stabbing her hand toward the phone.

“No, no, are you kidding?” he hissed. “The cops around here suck! Lazy bastards, they might think it’s a joke, even from you, and, besides, they’ll take too long. By the time they get here your ‘friends’ might have you again, and god knows what they’ll do to me!”

Claire’s already big eyes widened and started to fill. She grabbed for the phone as he grabbed her in a bear hug. “I swear,” he grunted as he dragged her desperately struggling form back into the darkness at the end of the enclosure. “I swear this is for the best!”

As they scrambled back into the shadows, the reedy towel snapped off and fell like a debutante’s tattered handkerchief to the dirty floor.

TO BE CONTINUED

THE LIBRARY: Trying Out Part 26

trying26TRYING OUT Part Twenty-Six {CONTINUED FROM HERE}
{This story originally appeared on BDSMARTWORK and features some amazing art by Steve. We thank them for letting us share it with you here}

“Just for the night,” he said, signing his name. “Won’t need nothing but privacy, okay?”

“It’s been a long day and a long drive,” his wife interjected with a wan smile. “We just need some sleep is all.”

“I can dig it,” said the desk man, who merely glanced at the man’s signature. After all, it interrupted his staring at their daughter’s great legs and the curvature of her surprisingly full chest. He only wished he could see her face. “Your poor daughter seems especially beat,” he said as he reluctantly turned away to get their key off the hook. Continue reading

THE LIBRARY: Trying Out Part 25

trying25TRYING OUT Part Twenty-Five {CONTINUED FROM HERE}
{This story originally appeared on BDSMARTWORK and features some amazing art by Steve. We thank them for letting us share it with you here}

The delivery man the glorified sack to her, surprised at its weight. “What do you keep in that thing? Rocks?

“Better,” said Swanson, pulling plastic, metal, and leather from the top. “Don’t want our

spent little darling to mouth, or wander, off, do we?” Continue reading

THE LIBRARY: Trying Out Part 24

trying24TRYING OUT Part Twenty-Four {CONTINUED FROM HERE}
{This story originally appeared on BDSMARTWORK and features some amazing art by Steve. We thank them for letting us share it with you here}

“Are you nuts?” Al hissed as he slammed the door shut behind him. Swanson just continued to laugh as she bore Claire down with an expression that left no doubt in Al’s mind. Of course she was. But then he was distracted by the sweat-sheened skin, bulges, and curves of their little bundle of joy, as well as the way she struggled so prettily before him. “Get us out of here,” he croaked, reaching for Claire. “Quick, in case anybody saw anything….” Continue reading