Bound For The Tour 2: Inside The Ropes

by Commander James Bondage

  After lunch on Friday, they were joined by Berta Lund and Karen Park. Both were dressed in the mandatory uniform for female golfers in Traynor’s establishment: they were naked. Berta was in her late 20’s, a short woman at 5’1”, and built like the proverbial brick shithouse. She had full, round breasts which were considerably larger than Kit’s or Dana’s, a narrow waist, and powerful but still very sexy legs. Her face was tanned and very pretty, with an upturned button of a nose, blue eyes and a mouth that seemed spend most of its time wearing an infectious grin. Her hair was dark blonde, worn short in a cute pageboy cut.

  Karen Park was also short, but physically she was unlike Berta in almost every other way. Where the German woman was powerfully built, the Korean-American Park was a tiny girl, slender as a wand. While the blonde Berta gave the impression of irrepressible cheerfulness, the dark-haired, dark complected Karen seemed solemn and thoughtful. Karen was a beautiful girl, with big brown eyes, and delicate features. To Kit, she looked much younger than her actual age of 23.

  Even though she now knew better, Kit still somehow could not rid herself of the idea that Berta Lund was a slutty porn star. But after she talked to the woman for a few minutes, she discovered that Berta was warm, friendly and charming, and no more of a slut than Kit herself or Emily.

  “Berta,” Kit said, “I have a confession to make. I saw some of those videos, and I thought you were… anyway, I’m so glad I met you, and I want to tell you how sorry I am for being such an idiot. You are a really nice person, and I hope we can be friends.”

  Berta laughed. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Kit,” she said. Berta spoke excellent English, with just a trace of a German accent. “Of course we’ll be friends,” she continued, as if the matter was settled. “We have all suffered from Herr Traynor’s tricks, and must all stick together, is that not right, Karen?”

  The solemn Park suddenly grinned for the first time, flashing white teeth in her dark face. “You are right as always, Berta,” she agreed. She addressed the two younger girls. “Berta and I spent nine months together here, and I’m sure I never would have made it without her. When I hear some of the things people say about her, people who don’t know anything about her, I just want to kill them.” She wrapped her arm affectionately around Berta’s waist. “She is the bravest, funniest, toughest, brightest human being in the world, and anybody who says otherwise can go straight to hell.”

  “And on top of all that, she’s the number one Internet porn star on the WPGT,” said Traynor, who had approached unnoticed. “I’m pretty sure you’re still one of the five most popular porn downloads of all time, Lund. I think it must be because you were so obviously enjoying every second of it, while most of your porn stars can’t really project that sort of thing very well. What’s your opinion?”

  If this was Traynor’s attempt to humiliate Berta, as Kit thought, it failed. The German girl smiled at him as if he had in truth complimented her, and said, “You are too kind, Master.”

  If Traynor was disappointed, he covered it by brusquely directing the four girls out to the golf course, to ready themselves for their caddying duties, while he went to fetch his guests. Berta and Karen, who had been to the course previously, led the way to a part of the complex that neither Kit nor Dana had ever visited before.

  “We haven’t been allowed outside since we got here,” Kit complained, when Karen asked her if she had seen Traynor’s course. “He’s kept us on the that damned Swingmaster or the indoor practice areas the whole time. I’ve almost forgotten what the outdoors looks like.”

  Berta threw open a door, and they entered a room bright with sun pouring through the three glass walls, overlooking a golf course. The room resembled a pro shop, containing as it did displays of clubs, bags, balls and every other kind of golf accessory.

  “That’s his private course,” Karen said, gesturing toward the window. “It was a private country club that Traynor bought for a song when it went under, and then he built his training complex and house here. I can’t believe the bastard wouldn’t let you out to play it even once. How long have you been here?”

  “More than four months,” Dana answered. “You know, with the sex at night and the training all day, I almost never thought about actually playing a round of golf, so I guess I didn’t really miss it, until now.”

  A door (not the one they had entered) opened, and Traynor emerged, leading his four weekend visitors, and suddenly they were in the presence of four of golf’s legends. Tom Whitson was the oldest, and his creased, tanned face with its ready grin made him seem the friendliest as well. He reminded Kit of a favorite uncle, but there was something about the way he eyed the four naked females that was not in the least avuncular.

  The Welshman, Rory McCloy, was the youngest of the group, and with his boyish features he looked considerably younger than his actual age. Kit thought he could have easily passed as a high school freshman and the bulge in his trousers suggested that he had the sexual drive of the young man he appeared to be.

  Bill Nickelson was a little heavier than the others, and his round face with its mild expression and easy smile seemed pleasant enough. But Kit thought she detected a look that she had seen before, on Traynor’s face, just before he did something particularly painful to her or to Dana.

  But it was Big Cat (his given name, ‘Delbert’, was never used by him or anyone else) Williams who drew and held the gazes of the four women. He was big, tall, handsome, with an aura of power about him that was both attractive and intimidating. Kit remembered reading accounts of rivals folding in the final rounds of big tournaments when they were paired up Williams, and now that she saw him in person, she could understand. He seemed to dominate the room just by being in it.

  His aura or presence, or whatever it was, did not appear to have any effect on Traynor, who was his usual crude self as he introduced the men to the four females. “I promised you gentlemen a fine selection of premium-grade cunt to caddy for you today,” he said, indicating the women with a wave of his hand, “and I don’t think you will be disappointed.” He pointed to each of the four women in turn and identified them, but he did not bother to introduce the girls to the men.

  Traynor put four slips of paper in a golf hat, and had the men draw for caddies. Kit was paired with Whitson, which seemed to suit the tall veteran pro. It turned out that he was a big admirer of Emily, and had actually met her once, at an off-season fund raising event.

  “Are the rumors about your sister and Littlefeather true?” he asked, as Kit slipped his bag over her shoulder. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it, two women being together, I mean,” he added hastily.

  Kit hesitated. Her immediate instinct was to tell him that it was none of his business, but she did not want to start off the weekend by offending Traynor’s guest. Before she had decided what to say, Traynor, who had overheard the question, took the matter out of her hands.

  “Oh, it’s true, all right,” he said. “Emily Thayer and Shelly Littlefeather are confirmed rug-munchers. I’ll play some of the videos I have of them going at it hot and heavy for you boys tonight. It’s quite entertaining. I’m sure you’ll find it very educational, Thayer.”

  When she thought about her sister and Shelly’s most intimate moments being displayed by Traynor for the amusement of strangers, Kit was barely able to suppress an angry reply. It would not surprise her if he decided to add videos of her and Dana making love to the evening show. She wondered, not for the first time or the last, if any reward, even the fulfillment of her dreams, was worth the pain and humiliation she had to endure.

  The women’s hands were bound behind their backs by Traynor. “You don’t need to hand your player his clubs,” he explained. “You will just kneel down in front of him and let him take whatever he needs.”

  During the match, Tom Whitman spent what seemed to Kit to be an unusually long time pondering very straightforward shots. He would stand very close to Kit, staring off in the direction of the target, while
absent-mindedly running a hand over the curve of her buttocks, or fondling her breasts as she waited on her knees at his side. Kit noticed that the other men were not shy about handling the delicious naked flesh of their caddies either. It looked to Kit more than once as if Rory McCloy was about to throw little Karen Park down on the grass and fuck her on the spot.

  Possibly the young Welshman was too distracted by the presence of so much naked female flesh. Whatever the reason, he was off his game, and he ended up finishing last in the match. His indifferent play did not seem to trouble him very much. In fact, he was so busy fondling the little Asian-American beauty carrying his bag that he hardly appeared to notice how the match was going.

  The older, more experienced men had better control over their hormones, and they did not allow their urges to affect their golf. The match came down to Big Cat Williams and Bill Nickelson on the last hole, which was won by the former with a twenty-five foot putt.

  The official selection process took place after dinner, at which the men were served by the nude women. At dinner, they were joined by a fifth female, Traynor’s chosen “date”, the great Swedish star, Anna Sorenson. Anna was of medium height, with a slender, wiry frame, small, tight breasts, long legs and narrow waist. She had short blonde hair, remarkably bright blue eyes, and intelligent, alert features. She was not exactly a classic beauty, but she was very sexy, and although she was in her late 30’s, she had a lithe, athletic body any 20-year would have been proud to claim as her own. Anna had only recently retired from competitive golf, after a career during which she had won over 60 tournaments on the US and European Tours, captured 12 major championships, and been named Player of the Year a half-dozen times.

  “I fixed you all up with dates,” Traynor explained as he ran his hand familiarly over the Swede’s muscular haunch. “Sorenson is my playmate for the weekend… although I’m not saying I’ll be unwilling to share.”

  “You studied with him?” Kit asked, only half-believing that Sorenson, one of her childhood heroes, was another of Traynor’s creatures.

  The Swedish star nodded. “It’s quite true. I spent the longest year of my life right here, and he used me every single night.”

  “And then you went out and stood the Tour on its head for 15 years, thanks to the swing you learned here,” Traynor put in. He addressed the others. “Let’s not forget that part. She was my first big success, and every now and again I like to bring her back to reminisce about old times together.” He cupped her sex and inserted a finger as he spoke. “Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I am horny as hell, so I say we get this show on the road.”

  This suggestion was met with the approval of the other men. Big Cat, as the winner of the match, had the first choice. He had been unable to take his eyes off Dana all day, so it was no surprise when he selected her. Bill Nickelson hesitated for a long while, but finally chose Kit. Tom Whitman took Berta Lund, and Rory McCloy ended up with Karen Park, the girl he wanted anyway, by default.

  Traynor took them to his private screening room so that they could watch selections from his vast video library while they fucked. The room had a big screen at one end, with rows of seats facing it, but, unlike any theatre Kit had seen before, was also equipped with beds and a number of restraining devices. These were arranged so that both the subject and operator could watch the screen while using the device.

  Nickelson started by fitting a long, leather single glove over Kit’s arms. The glove forced her arms straight out behind and pressed her elbows painfully together. It also forced her shoulders back so stringently that Kit’s shoulder blades were touching, and she was obliged to thrust her chest out and make an outrageous (and provocative) display of her breasts.

  Nickelson ordered her to kneel at his feet, and he fondled Kit’s tits, gently at first, and then with increasing roughness until he was slapping her fine globes back and forth, enjoying the way they bounced under the blows. He also took time to watch the movie screen, which showed Shelly Littlefeather kneeling submissively to take Traynor’s cock in her mouth while he belabored her raised hindquarters with a thick leather strap.

  The film seemed to inspire the golfing legend. He found a ring gag (this was not difficult, as the room was well-supplied with every imaginable kind of bondage gadget) and crammed it into Kit’s mouth. Then he led her to a frame with an overhead horizontal bar, where he hooked the ring at the end of her single glove to an overhead cable. He raised the cable, pulling Kit’s arms up, which increased the pressure on her shoulders until she was in agony, and forced her to arch her back and bend sharply forward at the waist.

  It was not until Kit’s head was at the level of his belt buckle that Nickelson finally stopped pulling the cable and tied it off. “Perfect,” he said. He dropped his pants, revealing a curving erection that pointed at the ceiling.

  “If you wanted a blowjob, you just had to ask!” Kit tried to say. “You don’t need all this bondage.” The gag reduced this to, “Uhh, nggg, ahh, eehhh, uhggg!”

  He grinned, put his hand on the back of her head and guided her mouth down around his manhood. As it was passing her lips, he raised the short whip he held in his other hand, ordered, “Suck it, slut!” and began to lash her well-displayed bottom globes.

  Kit shrieked, and hopped up and down under the stinging blows of the whip, even as his rod was filling her mouth and being pressed down her throat. Although she could not see it, she looked very much like Shelly Littlefeather did on the screen, as the latter danced madly under Traynor’s paddle while he skull-fucked her. For Nickelson, the combination of the beautiful blonde girl bouncing under his whip, her cries of distress on his cock, and the projected image of Shelly Littlefeather being taken by Traynor was so exciting that he came very quickly, his organ buried to the root.

  After he took a time-out to recover, Nickelson turned Kit around to face the screen, while keeping her in the same position with her arms hoisted up above her head, her superb breasts outthrust, her back arched to display her ass, and then he moved around behind her. As he toyed with her sex, his fingers teasing her to arousal, he said, “Look, Kit. It’s your sister and Littlefeather making out. Hot stuff.”

  The big screen was now filled with Shelly and Emily kissing and fondling each other, while the sound system broadcast their quiet moans of pleasure, whispered endearments and the soft, moist sounds of lips on flesh. Judging by the complete lack of self-consciousness displayed by the two women, Kit guessed that they were unaware that their lovemaking was being recorded. She gritted her teeth as she watched her sister’s gleaming, sweating nude body move sinuously as she climaxed with Shelly’s face was buried between her thighs. Rage flared in her heart as she asked herself how could even an unfeeling bastard like Traynor could display Emily and Shelly this way.

  Traynor had left Anna Sorenson tied up in a bizarre and no doubt painful position, her ass thrust down onto a smooth metal rod, to come over to Kit. “Do they let you watch at home when they’re eating each other out?” he asked Kit. “Do they ever invite you to join the fun? That’s something I’d like to see.”

  “No, you bastard, I don’t watch my sister and Shelly make love,” Kit answered. “It’s private. You have no right to humiliate them this way!” She was still wearing the oversized ring gag, so it came out as “Nnnnn, gahhh, ehhh…” and similar meaningless noises.

  The video must have had a profound effect on Nickelson. His hands captured Kit’s breasts from behind, cupping them and rolling her nipples in his fingers until they expanded and hardened, while his renewed erection sawed up and down between her rear hemispheres.

  “I’ve seen lesbo action before, but never anything like this!” he said enthusiastically. At that moment, up on the big screen, Shelly was shuddering through an intense orgasm brought on by Emily’s tongue, and she was murmuring, “I love you, Emily. I love you so much.”

  “Ah, you hot little bitch!” Nickelson said. He squeezed Kit’s hard nipples in his fingers with enough force hard to ma
ke her scream, and then thrust against her rear with a convulsive movement of his hips. “Open up!” he demanded.

  Kit twisted her head around to look at him, causing strands of drool to fly through the air. She was by now very familiar with this form of sexual intercourse, and with just a bit of preparation, had come to actually enjoy it, to some degree. “Just give me a chance, asshole! Work on it with your fingers a little before you try and ram yourself into it, you jerkoff!” she shouted.

  Whether he would have paid any attention to this advice had Kit been able to speak comprehensibly must remain unknown, although it seems unlikely. Under the circumstances, she produced another string of nonsense syllables, which had absolutely no effect on Nickelson. The golfing legend was in full rut, however, and it is doubtful that he would have slowed down for any consideration.

  He released Kit’s nipples and took his turgid cock in one hand, while seizing one of her rear globes in an iron grip and pulling it aside with the other. Then he drove his hips forward again with all his weight. Nickelson was a big man and a strong one as well, so Kit’s tight muscle, tough though it was, could not resist the attack. In an instant it gave way and allowed him entry, four inches all at once. Kit squealed in pain and fear. It had happened so suddenly that she was certain that he had done damage, but as it turned out there was no problem other than some soreness for a few days afterwards.