Kimberly McArthur : Tie her up and she lets go

Kimberly McArthur : Tie her up and she lets go

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


A most unusual way to celebrate the birthday of lovely and sweet Kimberly McArthur, Miss January 1982. Features Barbara Edwards, Miss September 1983.


A most unusual way to celebrate the birthday of lovely and sweet Kimberly McArthur, Miss January 1982. Features Barbara Edwards, Miss September 1983.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Kimberly McArthur : Tie her up and she lets go

Author Chapter Note

A most unusual way to celebrate the birthday of lovely and sweet Kimberly McArthur, Miss January 1982. Features Barbara Edwards, Miss September 1983.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 10, 2013

Reads: 1700

Comments: 2

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 10, 2013



The cavernous sound stage, probably the most expensive ever rented by Playboy Enterprises, reverberated a thick silence; even with burly Teamsters hoisting lighting gear and hammering sets, a foreboding emptiness echoed violently, with much of the space nothing but dark shadows and black void.

Miss January 1982, sat in one of the ubiquitous canvas chairs near the production table where the staff huddled over the storyboards; with one leg crossed over the other knee, she playfully dangled a slipper from her toes as she eyed the actors gathered at the food table who were snacking jovially while congratulating themselves on being cast for this shoot. Every once in a while, they would sneak glances at the luscious playmate sitting by herself and their voices lowered in conspiracy. She acknowledged them with a casual wiggle of her fingers and pondered again the difficulty in figuring out which were the actors and which were the crew. They all seemed to have been chose for their brawny physiques.
The set was buzzing as trollies and cases were moved out of camera range. 

The art director broke from the production pack and strolled over to the luscious girl, taking the seat next to her. “Looks like we’re just about ready. Everybody’s stoked for this.” Kimberly just shrugged while smiling demurely. He gestured to the almost jubilant actors tossing their plates away and preening for the shoot.

“Depends on which side of the camera you’re on,” she said finally, her voice doubtful. As if to say, “They look happy,” he indicated the exultant actors looking her way with wicked intentions burning in their collective gaze.  Kimberly shrugged again; she was thinking of her own part. While the production team had spent days, even weeks, pouring over storyboards and scenarios, Kimberly had been kept in the dark. 

The rest of the crew turned towards her with expectant looks and the director nodded to a couple of burly stagehands; Kimberly felt their approach from behind and the girl slowly rose, captivating in tight blue jeans, with a men's white dress shirt tied in a knot above her cute belly button,  the shirt open at the top about four buttons, her creamy cleavage glowing in contrast to the red bikini under her clothes. The chair was pulled away and she was gripped from behind and a damp coarse cloth was pressed over her nose and mouth. She struggled until the fumes knocked her out.

Kimberly McArthur, slowly waking up in a strange room, feels a creeping dread surrounding her like a fog; dimly lit, the space, vast and menacing, crushes the tender girl. A few feet in front of her stands a mirror; beyond that she can see a bed with another mirror hanging over it.  As her eyes begin to focus, she realizes that the mirror over the bed is merely hanging from some rough hemp ropes; more ropes hang down from beams above the bed.  Kimberly looks around the room; sparsely furnished, is it a converted garage or basement?  Is she alone?  She looks down at her chair, finally noticing the ropes binding each of her wrists but not tying them together, her slender arms limply resting in her lap.  She gasps delicately into the silken gag on her mouth, or rather in her mouth, as the cloth is pressing between her glistening red lips, against her gleaming white teeth.

Her misty green eyes widen; she’s telling herself she’s not afraid, knowing she’s lying to herself.  She shakes her strawberry blonde hair and begins to stand.

But as she stands a harsh mechanical sound grinds to a start; the ropes on her wrists begin to tighten, spreading her arms out wide and forcing her to stand in front of the mirror.

As a little girl in Dallas Kimberly used to love those old movies they showed on Channel 8, the virgin sacrifice tied with her arms spread out, screaming into her gag as King Kong came to ravish her.

Now Kimberly looks at herself in the glass and her bound arms are spread wide, just like King Kong’s luscious victim: A prisoner bound and gagged before a mirror watching her own flat firm belly move in and out and her gorgeous white breasts heave up and down as she breathes in fear, as she looks at her curvaceous body writhing in the mirror, as she realizes exactly what is going to happen to her; her green eyes widen even more before she closes them tight and lets out a soft, slow, almost orgasmic moan.  Panicked, sweating with trepidation, she gazes into the bleak vast blackness oppressing her; her eyes search in futile hope even as dread knots through her quivering body. 

And yet, coupled with the fear is a strange tingle of excitement; Kimberly thinks back to a few days ago on the movie set and a conversation she had with Barbara Edwards.  Kim and Barbara were in bed together completely nude.  They both knew that they looked perfect together.  Barbara's dark hair tangled up with Kimberly's strawberry blonde; Kim's large creamy breasts pressed against Barbara's firm nipples.  Each of them had one hand on the other's round and plump bottom while the other hand gently stroked pussy.  As they lay there slowly moving their bodies against one another in a slow erotic dance Barbara kept kissing Kim's face; her lips a soft, tender butterfly alighting first on the sweet Texan’s eyes, then her cheeks, finally her lips.  Barbara's tongue darted against Kim's just as she slipped one finger slowly, smoothly, but insistently, into Miss January’s pussy, and pushed another finger firmly into her ass.  Kimberly's hand tightened on Barbara's ass and both playmates moaned with pleasure. Kim’s other hand pushed against Barbara's dewy bush.

Suddenly someone yelled "Cut."  And there was a flurry of activity as grips and carpenters began to move over the set, changing lights and repositioning cameras.  But Kimberly and Barbara kept rocking against one another.  Kim thought Barbara's fingers, one in her rear and the other in her pussy, were almost touching.  She pressed her own mouth on Barbara's as she began to shake with orgasmic delight.  She could see her own pleasure reflected in Barbara's deep dark eyes. 

But here was the director standing over them, a bit perplexed but also a bit perturbed—and, as both girls could see in his pants, extremely aroused.

"Girls, girls," he said, "This is too much; we're doing soft-core and action, not porno." The girls began to giggle.  "And take a look around you.” The crew were all standing still, immobilized by lust and erections. “We're gonna have to take lunch now so everybody can cool off."

Even Charlotte, the make-up girl, had a misty look in her eyes and her hand on her crotch.  The playmates giggled again and Barbara said with a laugh, "Watch your language when you talk to ladies.  Now leave us alone; I want to show this Texas goddess some things I learned in the grotto."  With that she buried her face between Kimberly's milky white breasts.

Kimberly laughed too as she felt Barbara's tongue slowly draw a line down her chest towards her belly button.  She knew that in just a minute or two Miss September 1983 would have her hungry mouth engulfing Miss January 1982’s clit.  Barbara looked up at the director and said with her cutest southern belle smile, "Would you mind throwing a sheet over us before you leave?"

The director mumbled something but did as he was told.  Kim and Barbara were alone on the set, at least alone in the bed.  Kim could see some of the crew off in the shadows watching as the two playmates pleasured each other.

Barbara's mouth was slowly working towards Kim's honey pot, both girls writhing themselves into a dreamy state, Barbara under the sheet kneeling between Kim's legs as she licked and nibbled every inch of Kim's sweet pink flesh, slowly working down to her scrumptious clit, Kim on her back now, immobilized with erotic enthrallment as her girlfriend probed her body.  She was gently stroking Barbara’s dark hair and she was watching through hazy eyes as several of the crew remained, excited by the sex show they were witnessing.  And Kim was excited by their eyes on her.

She whispered huskily and dreamily to her lover, “You know, Barbara, I have this fantasy about being taken by a whole crew of really horny men, wicked men doing naughty things.”

Barbara mumbled around Kimberly’s luscious clit, “Like a sex slave.”

“Yeah,” Kimberly agreed eagerly as her hips gyrated into the loving ministering of Barbara’s lips, teeth, and tongue. “Like a sex slave. Whips and bondage and a harem and then after about a dozen orgasms, getting some loving from you, precious.”  All Barbara could say in response was “Mmhghmm,” as her hot, anxious tongue found the sweetest spot.

But now here in the vast dim room those tender moments disappear into overwhelming darkness. She moans softly, trapped in what looks like some frat-boy hangout.  She’s a prisoner, bound and gagged. She looks at her soft body standing before the mirror, her jeans so tight she sees the line of the bikini underneath. The men's white dress shirt tied in a knot above her naval and open at the top about four buttons, clings to her skin, damp with sweat, her creamy cleavage glowing. She watches her velvety breasts heave up and down with each deep breath she takes, breathing deeply with both anxiety and elation.  She knows her body is beautiful, and she loves making love; perhaps she can seduce her captors and avoid any pain.  But in the mirror she sees her wrists bound by ropes and her arms spread and the silken gag in her mouth and trepidation and apprehension grip her quivering body, her great peril crushing her.

She moans again, soft and mild humming, then a muffled and fragile sob.  Sweet salty tears dampen the honey soft curls hanging over her breasts.  Crying quietly, she looks at herself in the mirror again and looks beyond and realizes that she is not alone: in the reflection she sees behind her a table and hulking shadowy figures, three men sitting, slowly she senses their hungry eyes fixed on her helpless body.  She gazes into the glass, her eyes pleading. Somewhere the faint ticking of a clock measures the eternal seconds and minutes of the men’s eyes feasting on the defenseless prisoner. One man cuts a deck of cards.  Now Kimberly sobs wildly, deep animal groans, a combination of sensuality and violence she never knew roars out of her. 

The cards shuffle again.

Her moan turns into a scream strangled in the silken gag, the frantic playmate thrashing fiercely against her bonds; smooth satin is wrapped around her wrists so the ropes don’t chaff against her supple skin and this detail infuriates and frightens the girl into greater struggle.  The sudden squeak of a chair stops her panicky flaying; she looks into the glass as one of the men pushes his chair back and starts towards her.  The men’s murmuring voices drift around Kimberly and she stops her crying in an effort to hear what they say.  All she hears is, “Lucky dog.”  Two of the men pat the third as he slowly swaggers towards his gorgeous captive.  She shudders at his approach; in the grey light he slips a mask over his head as he gets closer.

The mask sets off her moaning again.  Her soft pleas soften in the gag. Fear takes hold and pushes out all notions of sensuality as visions of pain and brute force crush her imagination.  The mask tells her too much. She tries to close her eyes, but she can’t help watching the enormous masked beast as he moves behind her.

“Shhsh, Kimmy,” whispering behind her, surprisingly gentle. “We don’t want to hurt you.” She wants to believe but she hears a slight snicker from the two at the table.  She moans yet again but the masked man behind her keeps saying, “Shssh, easy girl, shssh.” He’s so close she can feel his warmth as his words weave around her. “It’s OK.  We all know what we’re here for.  We all want to enjoy ourselves. You’re Miss January, a Playmate of the Month. Our little playmate. It's gonna be a fine party. You’re a beautiful girl.  A gorgeous woman.  You want to make us happy, don’t you?”  His hungry gaze burns from the mirror and she writhes in the heat but he’s still not touching her.  His eyes run up and down her shapely body; his quiet voice eases her into submission. Finally her eyes meet his in the mirror.

Again he says, “You want to make us happy, don’t you?”  She stares at him.  Suddenly, he’s more insistent, “Don’t you?”  She nods her head timidly.  “Good girl.  We’re all going to have a good time now.  We're gonna have a nice little party." Kimberly continues to watch the man in the mirror, trepidation and exhilaration shaking her body.

"You look so good baby.” The droning of his voice chills her to the core, the repetition tightening around the helpless girl like a net. “You know what we want,” he repeats and images of brutal fucking flash through her skull. “You know you want to." He pauses, then more insistent, "You know what we want."  Kim nods slightly but tears begin to come too.  "Shhh, sweet heart.  Nothing to be afraid of--.” 

His smooth patter blunts suddenly. “If you cooperate.” 

Kimberly hums timidly. His massive hands hover over her curves, taunting without touching. “You're gonna be a good girl; you'll be good won't you?" Again she nods. "Yeah, you're so good, so sweet. All we want to do is have fun.  We're just gonna party with you and you'll be a good girl won't you. See the bed over there? It's set up for a good time and you look so good." Kimberly is slowly writhing against the ropes. "We're gonna take turns, OK? You'll like that won't you baby?" Kim, alarmed and confused, doesn't know how to respond but her captor is firm.  "You want us to take turns; you want to have a ball."  The beautiful prisoner nods but her eyes glow with alarm.

"That's real good baby. You gonna be a girl for us?”  Kimberly nods again.  She’s surprised to realize that her wonderful nipples are poking through the red bikini top and white shirt.

“We got the bed over there. We got the boys behind you. We got a pretty little playmate all tied up and ready to go.” He’s licking his lips, inventorying her luscious body. She trembles almost desperate for him to touch her now but he only plies her with words. “We're all gonna have a really good time.  You're going to be such a good girl for us.  We're gonna have a real ball.”  Kimberly’s body stiffens with fear for a moment as he keeps repeating his smooth talk but she trembles too with what she knows is euphoria.  He goes on. “But listen, sweetheart, before we get started we’ve got to get that gag off, right “So I’m going to put this blindfold on you, just for awhile.  Just until we get really started. Just until we‘re all good and acquainted.” More chuckles and snickers from the other two. Again she trembles.  “But I want to show you this first.” Before her eyes is a card, the Jack of Hearts. “High card goes first.” She sighs and sobs at once and leans back against the bonds.  Her delectably round ass presses against his crotch, his cock already rock-hard promises to be brutal inside her.  Her body stiffens even more and while she trembles against him her sobbing becomes an excited humming.

His large hands, unexpectedly warm, lift up her soft blonde hair and bring around a silk blindfold.  Tying the blindfold firmly, he breathes in the aroma of her hair and her flesh. Kim leans into the ominous force of his body; she’s still afraid but the fear drives the thrill of her ass rhythmically bumping against his cock, her jeans so tight, the shaft rides in the crack between her two juicy buns.  "You're being such a good girl now.  You're being so good.”

Kimberly can’t see now but she can feel him pushing against her ass.  “You’re our good little girl.” Her hips sway, her body melts, her arms dangling from the ropes.

His hips rock in rhythm with hers, his cock savoring the curves of her plush bottom. She moans into the gag, a plea and a promise, grinding her bottom into his cock. “Whoa, little lady, there's plenty of time; let’s get this gag off first.  You'll be a good girl now won't you? You’re not going to scream are you?”  She shakes her head violently and she hears one of the other two say, “I’ll make her scream.”  Now the thought of all three men rushes through her.  No!! she shrieks in her head as her body trembles with desire.  Her nipples, almost sore, push against her clothes, her pussy flooding with yearning.  Just as the gag comes off and she takes a deep breath of air; savoring the menace of the hulking man behind her, she comes for what she knows will be the first of many orgasms tonight.

She purrs in reluctant desire and hearing the lust in her own voice she smiles encouragement. “That’s nice. Let’s keep it nice, OK?”  Her voice vacillates, terror and lust twisting her crazy. The man behind her, his mask off now, has put his hands on the front of her athletic hips, his greedy rhythm goading her excitement.  She feels his face in her hair and his lips on her lilywhite throat.  “Don't worry, darling,” he says, “We’ve got a lot of plans.”

She feels him rock hard and huge against her ass and she begins to giggle nervous embarrassment and relinquishes herself to sensational sex. Bliss squeezes her tight and she giggles some more in her ecstasy because they both still have their pants on.  Then she feels his hands move all over her thighs, hunting and probing.  His right hand cups her pussy and he growls his will.

“Take my jeans off,” she whispers huskily, surprised by the covetousness in her voice, “I want you to.”  She knows she has to play along but part of her wonders how much she is playing.  His hands move slowly to the top of her jeans.  She’s suddenly aware that this is the first time he actually has touched her skin.  His large rough hands are gently stroking the flesh right above the pants.  Her flat, perfect tummy has become another erogenous zone.  Now his fingers are working the top button of the fly, then the next, then the next.  She’s weeping with longing.  She wants to be taking his pants off too, feeling her own fingers as they release his throbbing monster.  Suddenly her jeans are open and he’s sliding both hands along the supple flesh of her hips; he’s moving down her body as he pushes her pants to the floor and they drop around her ankles.  As he stands up again he licks her left leg right up to the edge of her bikini bottom. His lips pause on her magnificent round buns.  He hooks his thumbs into her red bikini bottom and in one motion the bikini and jeans are pushed away as Kimberly feels herself lifted into the air and into the lap of this brute.

They’re in the chair; she is still blindfolded but she’s now sitting across his lap and through the fog of her sensual ecstasy Kimberly sighs as she feels his coarse hands run from her toes up to her knees.  She bends back her head, her lips parting, and she writhes breathlessly into the kiss, her tongue dancing with yearning. Finally, pressing her cheek to his she whispers, “I want to make you happy.” 

Still blindfolded, she can sense his mocking grin then his cruel mouth over hers, his tongue fucking down her throat.

“Please be gentle,” she whispers futilely when he allows her to breath again.

“Sure, baby,” he sneers still moving his hand up her leg. She alternates between parting her fabulous legs slightly and tenderly squeezing against his touch.
His other hand is pressed against her back with fingers just touching the nape of her lilywhite neck.  As he slides his fingers up into her soaking pussy she presses into his chest and bites him through his shirt.  She is coming yet again.  “Good girl,” he growls working his piercing fingers deep into her moist treasure. She winces sweet agony. She bites again. She is throbbing on his fingers and stiffens, a climax coiling tightly.

Suddenly the ropes on her wrists tighten and she’s pulled off his lap.  Again she’s standing bound, still blindfolded, with her arms spread out.  Her pants are gone and she feels her own juices running down her leg.  Somehow in her blind fear she concentrates on a little drop dripping from her bush and gently moistening the sweet flesh of her inner thigh.  She imagines Barbara Edwards kneeling in front of her and licking it off.  She remembers how Barbara showed her the special bed in the mansion with the ropes in the ceiling.  Kim would hang from the ropes with her legs on Barbara’s nude shoulders, while Barbara gobbled up her pussy juices and both playmates screamed with ecstasy.  Suddenly she pauses in her reverie as she realizes that the bed she saw earlier is a rough duplicate of the one in the mansion.

She hears the three men talking urgently but quietly among themselves.  Suddenly a rebel yell and a chair knocked over.  She feels the force of a man rushing towards her. She senses him in front of her and then feels rough arms thrown around her and an unshaven face presses against her velvety cleavage.  She feels something long and hard slide between her thighs and she knows that he is already naked and ready, and she’s anxious with the knowledge that he’s even bigger than the other man. 


“Oh, hey…um, hi. I didn’t know you’d be getting set up while I was in the shower. A bed. Mmm. A love scene. That’s nice.” Kimberly nervously plays with the knot of the white terrycloth robe. “The shower was really refreshing. My body is all tingly now. My skin’s so warm.” She slowly releases the knot and the belt slides away; the robe falls gently from her shoulders as she steps out of it and she kneels, naked on the bed. “These sheets look so cool.” She stretches over the shimmering satin, her skin moist and soft, glowing with rosy arousal. “Making love on satin sheets,” she sighs dreamily, and a soft purr is enough to suggest the pleasures she’s conjuring. As she rolls her nude body over the sheets she discovers a leather toy. “Uh oh,” she giggles, “This looks dangerous.” She picks up the thigh cuffs and garter belt, a complicated web of leather harness for each hip and velvet cuffs for each wrist, all attached to the brazenly black garter belt. The pretty girl holds up the harness as if to share with the camera, her eyes sparkle with mischief and curiosity. “I guess you want me to put this on,” she breathes sultrily. She holds her gaze on the camera lens, silently offering a choice: Fuck the beautiful playmate or torture her. The lens, staring back, stares blankly, the choice already made.

Kimberly nods her submission and rolls her nude body over the sheets and wriggles into the tight garter belt while shimmying each shapely thigh into a leather hoop, then she dutifully arranges her luscious body on her back, her strawberry scented hair spreads around her face in soft curls, her throat smooth and graceful as she holds her breath, her bodacious breasts quivering, her flat belly quivering too; her arms rest at her sides. She’s calm and soft and still, lying nude on her back and she looks up at him, sweetly purring, “I guess you’ll have to strap my wrists down,” and she offers no resistance as he binds her arms to her sides. He works briskly, coolly handling the helpless girl, his eyes on the buckles; the tiny metal fasteners jangle sharply and Kimberly mews softly in response. He tests the bonds and she grunts at the sharp pain; he stands and grips her ankles and slides her naked body over the bed, her silky skin gliding over the shimmering satin sheets, her moist flesh glistening with a delicate sheen of sweat.
He ambushes her with a kiss, his lips mounted on hers, their heads upside down to each other, the gliding of tongue to tongue is surprisingly pleasant. Kimberly, supine and naked on the bed, surrenders herself to the kiss, her bodacious body writhing over the satin sheets as she moans desire. She teaches the satin sheets to murmur as her bare feet glide up and down in arousal.
He pulls her -head first- to the side of the bed until her hair is dangling to the floor and her shoulders rest at the edge and he holds her head, “Suck my cock,” he demands and she feigns resistance, her lips pressed together in a pout and her pretty head shaking no while her soft cheeks caress over the head of his cock, and he pinches her nose until she opens her mouth wide and he rams his cock deep down her throat.

She gulps and gurgles as his hips thrust against her face in a slow deliberate pace, slowly easing his cock deeper and deeper down her warm soft throat. He hovers over her naked body, his weight on his arms, hands palm down on either side of his prisoner and he angles his hips to gain enough purchase to fuck deeper and deeper into her mouth as she gags sweetly. She’s writhing, undulating as much as the tight harness allows, her arms straining against the cuffs pinioning her wrists to her hips; more than anything, her delicate fingers long to fondle and caress his balls as they slap against her face.

He sighs a deep satisfaction. “Suck it,” he insists, and she acquiesces, a good girl gulping hungrily over his shaft. He presses in deeper, almost choking her and she gurgles in desperate surrender. Her curvaceous body writhes and wriggles, her naked skin glowing with sexsweat, her gentle eyes goggling in worship as the cock rams down her throat, her breasts jiggling with arousal.

He rubs his hand along her gurgling throat. She abruptly snaps her head up gasping for air. He lets her breathe and she trembles as with pleading eyes, she worships her master; he even gives her a drink of water, letting her bright red lips wrap around a straw as she sucks gratefully. “You like sucking,” he taunts and she nods eagerly. He fondles the creamy flesh of her heaving breasts, his fingers digging in, cruel talons. She winces as he twists her nipples, his eyes fixed on hers, gauging her reaction and she gazes back, her eyes glistening with the pain and teary with gratitude. Her feet beat against the sheets, showing her sweet agony.

Still torturing her luscious breasts, he barks out: “Open your mouth!” She opens wide. His cock plunges in, one, twice, three times, again she gasps for air and again his massive shaft rams into her mouth. Again he caresses the skin of her throat as if he can feel his cock throbbing just under the surface. In and out he thrusts and each of her gasps becomes more frenzied and desperate. Her breasts quiver as she gulps for air and they dance wildly when he jams his cock down her throat. He pumps in brutally then suddenly pulls out and stands erect, looking down on the naked girl, her wrists bound to her sides, her head dangling over the edge of the bed.

He slaps her, once; once is enough, the blow as cruel as it is sudden. Tears stream down her blushing cheeks as she moistens her lips with her tongue, the lips parted in hungry anticipation. He leans over her and fucks her mouth slowly. “Suck it,” he whispers, “Suck it.” Again, he’s mauling her breasts, alternating between tender caresses and brutal pinches and twists. Kimberly’s throat gurgles softly as the massive cock pushes in and out of her throat. Her spine arches and her hands squeeze into white-knuckled fists bound against her hips.

He caresses her throat again, again amazed that he can feel the girth of his cock throbbing inside her. Her thighs open and close, the vulnerable girl trembling with arousal. His balls press over her face as he holds the throbbing shaft in place, completely engulfed by her sweet honeyed mouth.

He’s standing again, an abrupt shift and she’s gasping in surprise as he stands over her. His hands swing out, palms flat and he slaps her breasts, slaps her face; he snarls contempt and lust and slaps her over and over as she sobs, “Please, let me suck your cock, baby. Please. Come on my face, baby,” she’s urging over the sharp snap of his hands slapping over her naked flesh. “Come all over me,” she begs. 

He steps away, rummaging at a table out of sight of the girl and the camera. The camera pans over her nude, trembling body and she lifts her head and, gazing into the lens, offers herself to the viewer. 

He’s back and he’s on the other side of the bed; cradled in his arm is a vibrator, chromium steel, nine inches long, three inches wide. She screams in terror but he’s already parting her thighs and pressing the head of the vibrator over her tender pussy. The device seems to ram into her with a will of its own; a switch goes on and her body is engulfed in the vibrator’s erotic torture. He’s back at her head, pulling her face up by her hair and her lips are wide open and eager and he fucks into her mouth. She’s dripping with sweat, her body tense with the tight grip of a climax about to burst and as she comes in a tsunami of bliss his cock bursts down her throat and she gags as she bucks and thrashes in orgasm. He comes once in her mouth then he’s coming all over her face and nipples and she’s crying as she comes, sobbing, “Thank you, thank you,” over and over.


The empty chamber feels cold and confining; the nitre on the bare rough brick walls, gleams white web-work and will make Kimberly think of an Edgar Allan Poe story. The floor is cold cement with an old mangy carpet delineating the area where she’s going to be tortured. The man lumbers into the camera frame, a bear lazy now but coiled to pounce. Kimberly follows, shimmering in a soft dress, silky and sultry, cut short as lingerie, the bright delicate flower pattern belying the dankness of the chamber; and right behind her struts Barbara Edwards barely clad in silk stockings and a steel blue satin basque. The man gestures to the pillory set up in the middle of the room. “OK, this is what we have picked out for you guys for this part of the shoot.” He pats the wood affectionately. “Hef had me make this for him and Shannon Tweed.” He points proudly at a gouge in the center post. “She got so worked up she kicked and did that.” He looks for a reaction from Kimberly who is still glancing warily around the room. “Good times,” he sighs, still savoring Shannon Tweed’s screams as if they still echoed in the chamber. Then he guides Kimberly closer to the structure; he’s quietly checking her height in relation to the pillory. “’Course she’s a lot taller than y’all. But I adjusted it for your height.” The wood structure stands like a work of art, the grain of the pine stained and polished lovingly; the center pole holds up the horizontal bar but another pole runs along the floor and connects to a box that holds the prisoner’s feet in place. The playmate notices that the cutaways for her throat and wrists are fur-lined to keep her skin from bruising and fur-lined cutaways are set for her ankles as well. 

The man and Barbara silently watch Kimberly study the pillory; she cautiously runs a finger along the grain of the wood as she contemplates what’s next. She warily eyes the man, fearing that he’s about to start drooling. Finally, he slaps his hands together agreeably, then shoots them out like pistols, a game show host pointing to a contestant. “What we’re gonna do is have you strip down naked.” Kimberly giggles and gingerly steps away from the pillory. He pats her shoulder, “Go ahead,” he encourages. Kimberly turns towards Barbara and laughs nervously while the man checks the gear. Kimberly smooths her hands over the curves of her dress; the fabric is soft and clinging and she’s clearly naked underneath. She hesitantly begins to undo the belt. 

“This is not what you were expecting, huh?” Barbara waves her slender arms like a presenter on a game show. 

Again Kimberly giggles as she lifts the dress over her head and presents her large bouncing breasts. The man is leaning on the pillory and watching Kimberly strip and he nods appreciatively to Barbara. “It’s always fun to have a girl in here for the first time. Shannon really gets off in it, but you should have seen Kelly Tough once we got her locked in. Man, that was a trip. Shannon was on the other side for that one. Her and Hef worked Kelly real good. Thought I was gonna have to call 911.”  He’s eying Kimberly’s voluptuous body and imagining her already bound into the torture device. He licks his lips, already tasting her but Miss September steps between them. “This is your first time on this thing,” Barbara states flatly while eying Kimberly’s succulent body. The bodacious blonde tosses the dress away. She shakes her silken tresses back into place.

“Yeah, well I wanted to do this for a while.” Kimberly nervously runs her fingers through her hair. “I’ve been craving it.”

“Panties too,” the man waves in command and Kimberly eagerly complies.  “And shoes.”

“Oh really,” Kimberly gracefully slips off the spiked heels, her nude body tingling. She delicately lifts her bare feet into the base of the frame.

Bending down to guide her feet, the man pushes her ankles into place. “What we’ll do is put your feet right in here.”

“Is this OK?” the prisoner asks submissively.

“You can spread your legs apart. Good girl. Put your foot right there in the cutaway and press it forward. Perfect.” He moves to the front and taps the long tee frame. “You’re gonna put your head right here and your hands right there.” Kimberly delicately bends forward and rests her wrists and throat on fur-lined slots.

“Like this?” she asks meekly.

“Keep your head down!” he commands. “Ok,” she giggles. He’s raising the inged top piece with one hand and sweeping up her golden curls with the other. “Let’s get your hair out of the way.” He gently slides her honey scented locks to one side. “Fantastic.” Now he’s lowering the top of the tee in place, locking in her throat and wrists. “How’s that feel?”

“The fur tickles,” she says shyly. Then she flinches as he tightens the frame with a quick-release ratchet, the tool cackling wickedly with each turning bolt.

“We’ll just lock it down,” the man chuckles. “We don’t want you going anywhere once the fun starts.”

“Not too tight, baby?” Barbara is soothing as she strokes Kimberly’s bare bottom. 

“As you can see, we custom built the frame so she’s bent at ninety degrees.” He has every right to boast; the pilloried girl quakes scrumptiously at a perfectly angelic angle. The ratchet snarls a few more times and the girl’s firmly locked down. But then in the sudden silence, Barbara’s approving murmurs ring out. He picks up another piece and circles around to Kimberly’s legs. “Here’s a board to keep your feet in place.” Kimberly lets out a whoop as the piece is quickly bolted down. “OK, she’s all yours,” he encourages Barbara as he steps away. 

The petite brunette softly caresses her prisoner’s bare bottom. “A perfect right angle,” she purses her lips as if engulfing one of Kimberly’s dangling breasts.” Barbara’s lace gloves tickle Kimberly’s skin, wandering freely up and down her bare spine, across her soft shoulders, down the curves of her torso to her belly, Barbara’s gloved hand taunting, always teasing and the helpless girl moans appreciatively as Barbara’s hands run in circles over Kimberly’s belly then glide over the dangling breasts. 

Barbara moves to the front of the pillory and holds Kimberly’s pinned down head. “You’re not going anywhere my pretty.” She forces a lace covered thumb between Kimberly’s lips and the girl opens wide and licks Barbara’s fingers as the laced hand probs the prisoner’s moist mouth. Kimberly’s tongue, glistening pink, slathers over Barbara’s hand then takes her thumb between her lips and sucks it, she sucks like it’s a dick in her mouth and she whimpers tenderly. Barbara licks over Kimberly’s face and wetly kisses the lips around her thumb. The prisoner squirms in the pillory and moans with delight. Barbara twists the girl’s face to hers and quickly slips her tongue into Kimberly mouth, a rapid teasing dance, then the tongue darts away and Barbara suddenly slaps the struggling girl while pulling her head up. “Naughty girl,” Barbara purrs then kisses Kimberly deeply while reaching under and twisting one of the girl’s dangling nipples. The prisoner writhes in pain and pleasure. Barbara’s tongue is deep down Kimberly’s throat and the prisoner strains against the confines of the pillory. Still plunging her tongue into Kimberly’s mouth, Barbara grips the helpless girl’s hair with one hand and with the other twists her nipple again, holding the pose in agonizing stillness. Kimberly groans into excruciating bliss.

“Sorry, sorry,” the man returns with his arms full. Barbara rises as he dumps stuff onto a table near the pillory. “Sorry, I was so into seeing Kimberly naked and shit. I kinda forgot to give you some stuff.” Kimberly lifts her pretty head, straining to see.  “See? I got a couple more things for you.  Paddles…soft side, hard side. A couple of floggers for you. Yeah, this one is really nasty.” He holds out one flogger with tiny spiked balls on the tip of each lash.  Barbara takes it and whips the air a few times as Kimberly gapes in terror. “You watch; that thing can leave marks. And Hef especially wants you to have Big Bertha here.” He holds up a dildo; long gleaming chrome glints stab out like lightning through the room. 

Barbara coos appreciation for Bertha’s tightly coiled power. Kimberly, quaking in the pillory gasps disbelief and distress. “It’s Big Bertha, Kimberly,” Barbara enthuses as the man stands the glimmering warhead upright on the table. 

Kimberly manages a questioning gasp, her delicate fingers furling and unfurling nervously as if counting the many inches and pounds Bertha threatened. “Oh, you haven’t had Big Bertha yet, have you?” Barbara taunts the terrified girl. “It’s…cosmic,” she says almost reverently.

Barbara’s fingers trace over the length and girth of the massive dildo. She can see Kimberly is frightened so she explains the chrome shell’s power. “It’s named for a gun from World War I.” She reverently breathes out the name.  “Big Bertha. The Germans made her, of course, seventeen foot barrel, 94,000 pounds.” Kimberly groans, a fearful chorus to Barbara’s worship. Barbara strokes the chrome like it’s a massive cock. “This is modelled on the shell, well if a shell was a gigantic dick. It’s sixteen inches long and three inches wide. There’s an electro-magnetic pulse inside that kicks like a car smashing into a brick wall.”

“Honey,” Kimberly pleas meekly, “Can we maybe…”

But the man interrupts once more, waving one more toy to Barbara. “Hey, if you’re gonna use Bertha then you’re gonna want the ball gag.”

“Ball gag! Of course.” Barbara squeals and eagerly takes the leather and rubber gag from the man. He turns his attention to Big Bertha, holding it up and turning on its switch; the gleaming monster growls, sensing Kimberly’s helpless body pinned down before it.

“Can we talk about this?” Kimberly entreats weakly.

“This will come in handy,” Barbara fusses as she kneels close to Kimberly’s face and offers the ball gag. Kimberly giggles nervously but Barbara kisses her forehead even as she presses the ball between the blonde’s lips and straps the gag into place. “We’re going to have so much fun, baby.” Her gloved hands work nimbly over the buckle, tightening the strap around Kimberly’s head. The prisoner is uneasily shifting her weight from one foot to the other; her dangling breasts quiver enticingly. “At least I’m gonna have fun.” Barbara says as the girl moans into the gag. Barbara tests the strap and strokes Kimberly’s cheek. She rises again, still holding Kimberly’s head; she runs her lacy fingers through her prisoner’s blonde hair and softly kisses her cheek one more time. She sighs as she steps to the table and picks up Big Bertha.

Barbara, with her right hand, softly strokes Kimberly’s bottom; she leans over the girl’s bent body and breathes moist kisses up the trembling girl’s spine, one gentle touch after another, each touch drawing a soft murmur from the helpless captive. Kimberly’s hands strain against the fur-cuffed bonds; her lithe fingers dance in the anxious air. With her left hand, Barbara welds the massive dildo; the gleaming metal portends Kimberly’s doom, like an artillery shell with her name on it. The destitute girl grimaces as Big Bertha’s steel caresses over the warm skin of her thighs. Barbara slowly works the tip between the delicate petals of Kimberly’s sex and the poor girl groans as the steel shell is firmly worked into her; she strains to turn her wide eyes to Barbara and her checks flush with agonizing ecstasy, her lips rosy around the grim black of the ball gag.

Barbara, still breathing daintily onto Kimberly’s moist back, gracefully but steadily pushes the shaft into the rapt girl’s softness. “So pretty,” she purrs into her prisoner’s ear and the writhing girl groans in reply. The dildo keeps pressing in, impossible pressure building in the struggling girl. Barbara begins fucking into Kimberly even as she gradually pushes the shell in deeper. 

Ecstasy snaps over Kimberly’s spine -her climaxes calamities of rushed, frenzied surrender- but Barbara is already positioning the girl for more torture. She slides the dildo out of Kim’s pussy but immediately begins to push it into her bottom. Kimberly is screaming into the gag, pleading for mercy, knowing what Big Bertha is destined to do; her tiny feet kick in their bonds even as her plump ass slowly endures the cruel violation of the dildo oozing into her tightness. Sweat drips over her bent body. Barbara, purring smooth and soothing, rides the bucking girl and steadily works the massive chrome weapon, gleaming in her hands, deep into Kimberly’s plush pink bottom.  The poor girl groans, unable to take any more. Barbara, still purring soothingly, feels for the trigger at the base. Like 3,637 pounds dropped from 20 stories, the electromagnetic wallop pummels, base to tip, over and over through the dildo, pounding deep up Kimberly’s ass and blasting through her spine to explode at the base of her skull. She screams into the gag. Bertha’s magnetic recoil shakes Barbara and she staggers backwards. Poor Kimberly, still quivering from the pulsing blast and struggling futilely against the bonds of the pilory, looks back over her shoulder, her pleading eyes glowing shock and awe. 

Barbara, who is almost never surprised, gasps “Wow! That was awesome!” Helpfully the man calls out, “The charge is good for about ten or twelve more shots.” Kimberly groans and melts into submission.
Miss September triumphantly caresses the trigger again and Miss January is shrieking even before Big Bertha blasts into her again. “Eleven more to go,” sings Miss September jubilantly.


Kimberly McArthur, slowly waking up, feels that familiar dread creeping, tightening around her like a deadly vine; everything is familiar and terrible. A few feet in front of her the same mirror contemptuously throws her own panic back at her; she’s dangling from a single rope, her wrists bound high over her head. She’s wearing a men's white dress shirt again, again tied in a knot high above her belly button, again the shirt is open wide enough to show her creamy cleavage glowing and her breasts heaving and quivering as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, spiked heels making it hard to balance. Instead of blue jeans she’s wearing a sheer black leotard, so sheer she can, even in the dim light of the torture chamber, make out in the reflection of the mirror, delicate curls of her honey-gold bush. Her hair is shimmering in the stray splashes of light, the strawberry blonde curls lovingly brushed and coiffed, her flawless skin pampered with luxurious creams and oils; her entire body tingles with an effervescent sparkle and she’s a fresh April morning. She twitches her cute little nose, realizing she’s been delicately anointed with Jean Patou perfume- Joy, the costliest perfume in the world, 10,000 jasmine flowers and 28 dozen May roses to create a single ounce of perfume and a hint is delicately teased on her scrumptious skin. The luxurious composition coveted by women around the world, but the opulent scent swirls over the helpless girl as if to taunt her as she waits for fate to overtake her.

In the mirror she sees behind her the same table and the same three hulking shadowy figures. She hears the sharp rap of the deck of cards being straightened on the tabletop. She glances at her wrists, bound together above her head; the rope stretching her up arms disappears into the desperate void above her head and she watches, in the mirror, in dismay, as a man cuts the cards.

The men chuckle and the winner stands, his chair scraping over the cement floor. “What are you gonna do with her?” one of his rivals inquires.

He chuckles. “Other than fuck her?” He holds up what looks like a hoop in the dim light but Kimberly will learn soon enough that it’s a leather whip coiled and ready to bite her tender skin. “She needs some kisses from Lucille.” All three men laugh; the one standing approaches his prisoner.

She moans and wriggles, her struggle more anxious and futile with every step he takes; her tiny feet shuffle and scrap over the cement until one of the spiked heels snaps off and she scuffles to keep upright as she dangles from the rope above her.

Now he’s close enough that she can feel the heat of him; she’s almost breathing in his lust. She wants to scream but, as he stands behind her and begins to maul over her curves, she stills herself and melts into his groping hands, allowing her body to lean into his as he squeezes her breasts and rubs over the sheer tights to tease her pussy. Kimberly groans, gyrating her ass into his crotch; his hand slides under the blouse and he’s taunting a rock-hard nipple. She twists her head and offers her mouth, kissing him with amorous devotion, promising to be a good Playmate for him, and her pussy tingles as his hand cruelly grips it. Her tongue is wild in his mouth, frenziedly seeking mercy from her torturer. He responds by sliding his hand under the elastic of the sheer tights and fondling her plump round bottom. She wriggles into him, her feet dancing with excitement; her feet kick out, throwing the shoes off one at a time and now she’s on tiptoe, not realizing her feet are nudging at the coiled leather whip he had dropped to the floor. 

“Please,” she whispers sultrily when she lifts her moist mouth off his and that one word, the way she breathes it out means “Please fuck me; fuck me hard and deep.” And he will fuck her and fuck her deep, hard and, brutal, all three men will fuck her, but first…

He slaps her once, a sharp backhanded blow against her cheek and before she can react, his strong hands are already ripping the blouse down her back, exposing her tender skin; his hands brutally shred the blouse, his snarls echoing over her helpless whimpers. The other two men are whooping their approval. The white blouse destroyed, the last shreds float gently to the floor; her back is smooth and moist, flawless skin glowing with arousal. He caresses down her bare spine, then over the sheer tights squeezing her bottom but as he’s bending he’s picking up the whip and with the fluid moves of a tango dancer he steps back and moves his arm in a flawless arc, the leather whip snapping back then careening forward to land the first stinging blow on Kimberly’s alabaster flesh. She winces, clamps her mouth against protestation and waits for the next blow. 

The whip snaps and slaps against her back, then snaps again, over and over, a merciless flogging skillfully executed to cause maximum pain without actually tearing the soft flesh of the luscious girl.

She refuses to scream but she can’t hide the tears and she can’t stop the trembling; worst is the wait, right after the lash has struck and the leather flies away, the wait for the next blow is more horrible than the actual blow when it comes. And soon her legs give way and she slumps down, hanging cruelly from the rope as he gives her more punishing lashes.

“Damn,” he mutters, awed by the glowing beauty of his victim. Kimberly is dangling from the rope, her body trembling, but even through her tears she refuses to scream. And screaming is what he needs to hear; he glances back at his buddies then abruptly starts in on Kimberly again. The blows come fast and angry, the whip a flawless tool designed to torture the thrashing struggling girl, each snap of the whip a sharper crueler sting than the one before. Her silent whimpers become a loud moaning and moans give way to sobs and, after a rain of quick brutal blows, the sobs become screams. He’s snarling his victory and the whip is still singing

Then he’s lifting her into the air and the rope is tightening. He’s peeling off the leotard and bracing her legs onto his shoulders. Suspended by the rope on her wrists and her legs on his shoulders, she floats in the air while the sting of the flogging fades into a delectable bliss. His mouth is delicate and generous as he eats her pussy and she sobs with loving gratitude. When he lowers her onto his massive cock she’s eager and lively and the delicious orgasm is magnified by each blow she had taken from the whip. All three men are on her now. Somebody cuts the rope above her head and her arms are freed; she reaches out and embraces the shoulders of the man still drilling into her. Her face radiant with anticipation, she turns her head toward the bed but the men are already bringing her there. As soon as her skin touches the sheets she begins to kick and thrash even as the hungry cock pounds into her. All three men hold her down; wrapping her legs around his waist, she snaps and bites at the man penetrating her soft sweet pussy. Her struggle is furious, blazing like a burst of flame but soon the sensual heat consumes her resistance and she surrenders into the rhythm of the sex; she’s panting desperately, her eyes pleading; his cock gliding in and out of her tight moist softness, he fucks into her while his partners keep her arms spread wide, exposing her quivering breasts and her legs tighten around his waist, urging him on to deeper probing and she’s sighing and sobbing, murmuring little prayers of worship and awe. “You’re so good to me,” she moans, her hips thrusting up to meet his lustful thrusts and she freezes suddenly, her body tense and coiled her eyes wide as her orgasm twists her body into ecstasy; “Ooooh,” is all she can gasp before her body explodes into climax, and his cock explodes inside and she’s smothering his face with kisses of gratitude even as the other two men are manhandling her into position on her knees and hands and one cock is pushing into her from behind as the other goes down her eager throat.


Five canvas chair set in front of the camera, Kimberly, wearing a white bathrobe and nothing else, sat in the middle with the three burly men surrounding her. One chair was empty. Kimberly sipping on a Pepsi through a straw had a bemused smile as she watched the fatigued and sleepy crew stumble around the cameras and lights.

“Well, Kimberly, how was that? Did you enjoy your shoot?” The director looked kindly at the girl. While she looked fresh as a field of Texas wildflowers, the director and all the crew were exhausted. The three men who had spent the entire day torturing and fucking Kimberly looked spent. Barbara Edwards wasn’t at the re-cap because she had to take a nap after her session with the voluptuous Miss January.

Kimberly’s Texas twang was light and lilting, “Oh it ended too soon; I was hoping we could do a few more scenes.” She giggled as the crew groaned exhausted. Her face was radiant; her eyes, glistening with mischief. “Really, we could do a couple more things.” 

“I don’t think ‘enjoy’ is the right word though.” She furrowed her brow as she tried to explain, “I mean all the pain…golly, that’s intense but then when they make me come. It’s like come to Jesus isn’t it?” She nodded her pretty head sagely, thinking about the waves of bliss that had engulfed her. 

“What was the best part?” the director asked.

Kimberly’s face scrunched up, deep in thought; she looked impossibly cute as she reran all the scenes in her head. “Everything,” she gushed finally, her ingenuous smile radiant and amorous.

© Copyright 2020 GlobeTwo. All rights reserved.


Add Your Comments:


Other Content by GlobeTwo

More Great Reading

Popular Tags