THE LIBRARY: Trying Out Part 30

{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.


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