THE LIBRARY: Girl Next Door Part 7

An OLD SCHOOL TYLER Story.....Continued From Here

So Kate tried...and tried...and tried. While he was at work, she strained against the ropes and straps. But every eight hours, there were new ropes and straps, and she had to hope he would start to reuse them, or she'd have no chance.

Finally he did. Finally she kept working and working and working the cellar impaling pole straps at her ankles—rubbing her vagina every single time with the cock-shaped dildo—until one day, one snapped.

She thought she would go mad, but her madness gave her the strength to snap one strand of her elbow bonds. Suddenly she had some give. Suddenly she had the ability to get her fingers to her wrist knots...and suddenly she could move her hips so the ropes started to squeeze out of the bone groove, despite the midriff-exposing "rip away" velcro cheerleader skirt he had her dressed in.

With her hot pink ankle-strap high heel, she could step up onto the pole hook. She could rise slowly, agonizingly off the cock inside her....

With a sudden pop, her hands were free. They dove for the nipple clamps. As dead as her arms and hands were, she had been waiting, crazily hoping, for this moment. She gingerly removed them and her breasts, otherwise housed in a hot pink stretch vinyl and spandex mesh halter top, popped free. Her fingers clawed at the strap holding her head onto the pole's pear gag. The pear came out of her mouth like a liquid covered baby.

After seemingly a lifetime, Kate was not bound. She was not gagged. She fell sideways to the floor on newborn colt's legs. The dust rose, then settled on her quivering, jerking form. She wanted to scream, go crazy, break things, but she just managed to control herself. She gasped, trying to get strength as fast as she could.

Call the police? Yes, but not from here. She had to get away...away! What time was it? Would he be coming home from work? She half-crawled, half-ran to the cellar stairs. She nearly slammed her head through the side cellar door glass. It was dark out. He'd be home any second!

Kate nearly screamed then, wrenching at the door, but she dare not alert him in case he was already on his way inside. She jerkily, desperately unlocked the bolted door, pushed it open, and stepped outside.

Her nipples swelled to attention in the night air. She looked down, realizing they were still erupting out of the halter. She quickly pulled the spandex sides over them, just barely covering her aureoles, and looked wildly around. The houses on either side were dark, but the house across the street...the two-story one with the children!...was lit.

She ran across the dark, empty street as fast as her shapely, deadened legs could carry her in the killer high heels. She managed to make it up the steps without falling and got to the door just as she saw headlights turning at the top of the street....

She rang the bell and knocked furiously as the car got closer and closer to the house. Suddenly it opened and there was a face: it was a middle-aged woman, wirey...going to fat...a classic lower middle-class mom who still worked...probably at a factory.

Her eyes took in Kate with disbelief, seeing a sweet, lovely, frightened face over an extraordinary, firm, curved young body of a teenage showgirl—but before she could say anything, the abducted, raped, abused girl cut in with a croaking, unused voice. "Please there's been an accident I need to use your phone please!!" She practically forced her way into the front hall, needing to jam her barely contained breasts against the woman to get by.

"What the hell...?" the woman breathed, looking over as the man across the way parked his car. Then she slowly closed the front door.

Kate was halfway down the hall toward the kitchen when her long, shapely legs began to tremble. She found she could no longer remain balanced. Her elegant hand with its lovely fingers rested on the wall, but then she leaned heavily against the paneling and started to slide to the floor. Suddenly she couldn't stop shaking or crying. She wasn't even aware of the heavily muscled, pot-belied man standing at the top of the stairs in t-shirt and jeans, and the two sullen, ugly teens—one eighteen year old girl, the other a nineteen year old guy—staring from the TV room.

"What is it, darling?" the woman asked, kneeling beside Kate and roughly taking her elbows.

Kate was only vaguely aware of the woman's grip as everything poured out of her in wracking sobs, coloring her lovely face. "Man...across the street...kidnapped me...held me captive...raped me...raped me!! the police...please, please!!!"

Suddenly she was holding the woman for dear life, only distantly aware how the woman gripped the back of her head, holding her tight against her shoulder.