THE LIBRARY: Trailer Trash Part 2

TTrailer2RAILER TRASH Part 2 {Continued From Here}

{This story originally appeared on BDSMARTWORK and features some amazing art by ROUGIN. We thank them for letting us share it with you here}

He looked quickly around, seeing the pile of rags almost at once. Shifting himself effortlessly so that he sat on her, he grabbed the material with the hand that had been around her waist, feeling the grit and dirt soiling what had once been washcloths and hand towels. Without pausing he wrenched down on her jaw with the hand that had been covering her lips, and immediately started wedging the pulpy, stiff, oily material deep in her mouth.

Her brain was overwhelmed. For a few moments, it was as if everything had stopped except for one orgasmic writhe: her head back, her eyes huge, her hands up, her fingers splayed, her waist bent, and her mouth as wide as it could go. It was as if the gag was the biggest penis she had ever felt and her mouth was a vagina. It was as if she were coming, or vomiting, or giving birth. She was paralyzed in one gigantic, shuddering yawn.

And then it was all stuffed in, and it didn’t matter that she couldn’t comprehend it. He had grabbed her wrist and wrenched her over on her side, her arms twisted up her back as he sat in the saddle of her waist -- one of her legs bent, the other stiff and straight.

Then thin, coarse rope dug into her wrists. Suddenly her hands were caught high on her back, her thin jacket sliding down her arms, her chest bulging against the straining cloth of her shirt. She started to kick again one second too late. He was kneeling at her feet, her shins bunched under one arm, wrapping more coarse, itchy rope around her crossed ankles.

Suddenly they were staring at each other; a pretty, blonde, elfin girl sitting in a refuse-filled, rotting hulk of a mobile home, her wrists tied behind her, her mouth stuffed with fetid cloth, and her ankles cinched -- her sweat-stained shirt almost popping open and her panty-covered crotch just peaking out at the top of long, smooth, lightly tanned, bound legs.

Then he jumped up to wrap more rope around her head and deep between her teeth as she screamed and squirmed uselessly. There was an agonizing second as he tightened the gag’s rope anchor so tightly her lips were stretched back and the hemp sunk into her neck flesh, then he was on her.

Outside the housing project was quiet. Occasionally a pedestrian would walk by on the sidewalk and look through one of its fence openings, frowning or shaking their heads sadly at the rotting hulks of the aged modular homes. But then they would turn away and walk on, having no idea that a sweet young social worker was no more than thirty feet away.

Inside she lay, her head, shoulders, and bound arms on the foul floor of the trailer, her shirt ripped open, her breasts flouncing free, her creamy skin shivering, her dark rose aureoles quivering, and her little pink nipples pointing. And there, holding her loins up by her ass and hips, his arms wrapped around her haunches, was the squatter, now squatting, wedged by her bound ankles, between her legs, his fetid cock stuffed all the way up her cunt.

"You," he gasped between violent thrusts, “very pretty... very ... dedicated ... huh? Throw ... us ... out .... Bring ... in ... rich ... huh?" And with each “huh" he would ram particularly hard as Kelly cringed and mewed. “But ... no rich ... come in .... I come ... in you!"

And with that, he jammed himself all the way in, dragging her almost completely off the floor, and spewed a load of vile cream deep inside her.

Kelly stiffened in horrified disbelief, only her hands still scraping the ground, then she contorted in one, huge, sickening, dry heave -- as if trying to eject the foul defilement from her beautiful, refined, body.

When she thudded back to the trailer floor, tears were blinding her blue eyes and he was mauling her tits like pizza dough, his noxious breath hot on her face. “You wait here, huh, little princess?" he sneered. “I show you who you have hurt...!" Then he started dragging her toward the back of the trailer.

TO BE CONTINUED

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