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Bound For The Tour 2: Inside The Ropes

Page 10

by Commander James Bondage


  Nickelson was so excited that it took only two full strokes for him to explode. Kit was greatly relieved when she felt this, as it meant her ordeal was over, at least for a while. He pulled himself out of the girl (with a no little difficulty, it must be said; Kit’s muscles gripped him ferociously), and he sank into a convenient chair, dripping with perspiration and gasping for air.

  Kit took the opportunity to see what was happening to Dana. Big Cat Williams had her arranged in a very vulnerable position. Each hand was strapped to the corresponding foot, high above her head on either side, and far apart, forming her body into a “v” of which the vertex was her crotch. Her sex was exposed and her buttocks well apart, allowing Williams free access to any part of her he wanted, front or rear. Dana’s cheeks bulged with something that had been forced into her mouth, and her lips were sealed with a wide band of silver duct tape. She stared at the big man before her with wide, tear-filled eyes.

  As Kit watched, Williams brought the thin cane he was holding sharply down on Dana’s foot. She closed her eyes and writhed in her bonds, but made no sound that Kit could hear, as her shriek was suppressed by the gag. Big Cat struck her on the sole of her foot twice more, then moved close, reaching around to grasp her buttocks from behind and to pull the girl to his waiting erection. In a single motion he buried his impressive full length (Kit guessed that he was at least 10 inches long) in Dana’s pussy, and began to pump in and out steadily.

  Kit guessed from her expression that Dana came at least once, and was very close to another orgasm when Williams pulled out and again without any preliminaries thrust himself into Dana’s rear. The action that followed was both long and obviously very uncomfortable for Dana. Through most of it, her head was thrown back, her bulging eyes staring into space and her body rigid in posture of that suggested unbearable agony, while the cords in her neck stood out as she did her best to scream. Kit wanted to look away, but she could not tear her eyes away from the sight of her friend’s suffering.

  Most men, Kit knew, treated women very differently from Traynor, and she had hoped that his golfing legend friends would have had more normal sexual appetites. But it was clear from a quick glance around the room that Traynor and the other men had shared interests that went beyond golf.

  The entire weekend was taken up with golf and perverted sexual activities, and sometimes both at once. On Saturday, the five women were harnessed to “golf carts”, and made to pull the men around Traynor’s private golf course. The reins were fastened by clips to their nipples, and the drivers urged them on with dog-whips. On Sunday, Traynor staged a cart race, with the 4th and 5th place finishers being gang-banged. The smallest, Karen Park and the oldest, Anna Sorenson were the unlucky losers. The other three women sat and watched as first Karen and then Anna was tied up and then taken in all holes simultaneously for over an hour. Later in the evening, Traynor held a masturbation contest, with the two women slowest to climax being required to perform cunnilingus on each other while the men triggered electric dildos that had been stuffed up their rears. This time, the unfortunate victims were Kit and Berta Lund. Kit got through the ordeal by promising herself that she would someday, somehow, capture Traynor, jam an electrode up his ass, and spend a week or so lighting it up.

  Although as it was happening, it felt to Kit as if the “Legends Weekend” (as she came to refer to it afterwards) lasted several lifetimes, afterwards, just a few days later, it seemed as though it was nothing more than a bad dream.

  After more endless weeks of training, Traynor decided they were ready, and she and Dana were released and sent out to earn their places on the professional tour. At the time, Kit was afraid that after what Traynor had done to them, she and Dana would be mentally scarred for life. But after six months on the tour, all they had suffered at his hands was no more than an ancient memory for them.

  Chapter Ten: Inside the Ropes

  Exactly one year and one month after her first day in Traynor’s office, a grinning Kit Thayer was being interviewed on the Golf Network show Inside the Ropes at the WPGT. The occasion was her first professional championship, the Harrison Financial Tucson Open, which she had won two days earlier by defeating Dana Watson on the second hole of a sudden-death playoff. Seated next to Kit was Dana herself, who had won her first Tour event two weeks before, beating Emily Thayer and Shelly Littlefeather by two strokes.

  The show’s host said, “Kit, you and Dana are the leading candidates for the Didrikson Cup, given to the WGPT Rookie of the Year. In fact, it’s a pretty safe bet right now that one of you two young ladies is going to win it. Now, everybody knows that you two are best friends, and that you room together on the Tour. Does your golf rivalry interfere with your friendship, or vice-versa, for that matter?”

  The girls exchanged glances, and then they both smiled at the host. Kit answered, “Nothing can ever interfere with our friendship…” she gave a quick sidelong look at Dana, who nodded in agreement, “…and nothing will ever keep me from kicking her on the golf course, if I can.”

  The host, Dana, and most of the crew of the show burst out laughing.

  “That sister of yours is a real piece of work,” Shelly Littlefeather commented, after she finished laughing. She and Emily were watching Inside the Ropes on the living room set in their Palm Springs home. “Imagine using such language on television! It’s pretty obvious she was never taught polite manners by whoever brought her up.”

  “That would be me, in case you’ve forgotten,” Emily responded, in mock outrage, “and I have to say, you are way out of line criticizing my child-rearing methods, especially considering the fact that you never raised so much as a pet mouse. I believe you owe me an apology, and I owe you a good spanking.”

  Shelly pouted, or rather, produced a poor imitation of one, as she was unable to keep the corners of her mouth from curling up in a smile. “You’re right, Mistress, as always,” she said, her eyes cast down in a show of contrition that was no more genuine than Emily’s anger. “I’m sorry I ever even considered criticizing you, but if you don’t punish me, I promise not to do it again.”

  Emily shook her head. “No, no, Miss Littlefeather, that’s not possible. If I let you off this time, how will you ever learn? Now, get your pants down, and get your bottom over here,” she said, patting her lap.

  Shelly seemed to take Emily’s refusal to excuse her from punishment fairly well. In fact, her eyes seemed to positively sparkle at the prospect, as she said, “Yes, Mistress,” pulled down her pants and laid herself across Emily’s legs, exposing the shapely ovals of her naked buttocks.

  “Are you going to put me to bed without supper afterwards?” Shelly asked, looking up at Emily. “Ouch!” she yelped when the blonde’s hand smacked her resilient globes.

  “You can count on it, girl,” Emily answered. She brought her hand down again once more, leaving a red handprint on the pink flesh, and making Shelly cry out again. “In fact, I’m going to put both of us to bed. Then we can both have something to eat.”

  “Works for me,” said Shelly, then, “Oww! That smarts!”

  The End

 

 

 


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