THE LIBRARY: Trying Out Part 33

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

Gwen, choked, jerked, and flopped in place as the man delivered a shipment of cum down her throat.

Before she could even get her wits back, he had jerked the log from her mouth and let the remainder spurt, dribble, and ooze on her mounds.

As soon as his prick had cleared the blonde’s lips, the witch had sealed Gwen’s mouth with one claw, bore her to the floor in a sick spooning position, and was feverishly stroking the captive’s lovely throat with her other hand.

“Swallow,” she whispered huskily. “Come on, darling girl, swallow it all….”

The deliveryman watched the depraved tableau for more than a few seconds; until he saw the undulating girl’s Eve’s apple shift down and then up … down and then up. “Ted said I shouldn’t shorten my vacation,” he growled. “If he wanted to arrest me, you’d think he would, wouldn’t you?”

The witch rolled her eyes as Gwen Hennessy’s body began to shudder in her grip, her lovely legs beginning to spasm. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Swanson sneered. “The poor widdle girl’s wailing now. Come on, Al, help me prep her for the next leg.”

The witch began cutting off the micromini-dress with her non-gagging hand as Al tossed a black and white plaid miniskirt, black lace demibra, black leggings, and barely there stretch white shirt into a pile by the still blindfolded blonde’s hips.

“Don’t think it’s a double feint, do you?” the witch inquired idly as she held the now naked girl – save for the wicked high heels – still.

It was Al’s turn to roll his eyes. “Ted?” he said, while slipping the skirt up Hennessy’s lovely legs. “I doubt it.”

The witch jammed black panties into Gwen’s mouth, then just barely managed to contain the girl’s prodigious orbs into the bulging black bra.

“How much you willing to bet our little Claire’s still missing?” she wondered while gripping the blonde’s arms in preparation for the white shirt.

The two monsters’ eyes locked over the despoiled body of their disheveled second victim. “I’d stake her life on it,” Al said.

The deliveryman held the writhing, wailing, sexy little blonde down as the witch prepared a dildo and nipple clamps.

Claire screamed and screamed and screamed into the padding, her body warping on the fetid bed cover with each one. But it did almost no good. Her wrists were still lashed behind her, her ankles likewise cinched, and the band of ridiculously tight drainage tape wrapping her head held the shammy firm in her stuffed mouth.


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