My position wasn't as uncomfortable as it sounds. The leather cuffs holding my wrists and ankles to the legs of the padded bondage bench that I was bent over were tight, but Mel knows exactly how tight is tight enough without risking nerve damage. Still, my hips were beginning to ache from my legs being forced so far apart.
The gag was worse. A leather panel gag has to be tight enough to prevent the wearer from forcing their lips open behind it, but this was tight enough to make the flesh puff out around the edges. Still, I'm pretty used to wearing tight gags for extended periods of time.
The really hard thing was the growing sexual frustration. I find bondage a huge turn-on, and by tying me up like this with my breasts dangling and my pussy out in the breeze, Mel was driving my libido higher and higher, with no way to rub out my frustration. I knew that when I finally got fucked, the experience would be explosive after all the slow buildup, but in the meantme I was slowly losing my mind.
I heard footsteps on the basement stairs. It sounded like two pairs of feet. Shit, what's Mel up to this time?
The closet door opened, and I shook the hair out of my face and looked over my shoulder. There was Mel, and beside him looking me over was his buddy Dave. I had met Dave a number of times before, and considered him something of a friend, but he had never seen me naked, and certainly had never seen me with my ass and cunt on display like this. I wasn't sure if I found the humiliation erotic or just humiliating. I thrashed uselessly, partly from sexual frustration and partly from sheer God-strike-me-dead embarrassment, and made a pissed-off "MMMMPPPHHH!" behind the gag.
Mel reached between my spread legs and ran a finger between my pussy lips, checking for juices. "Ah, I think she's perking nicely now." He looked at Dave and said, "Want to take her for a test drive?"
