Cuckold themes. BDSM scene.
Bo twisted and turned mid air in the giant spider web. She was completely naked (again!) as cameras rolled from every angle.
Thick strands of web criss crossed her hug tits, pushing them tightly together and squeezing them. Other strands wrapped around her wrists, and ankles, and legs. Her legs were pulled apart into a very vulnerable position. Her smooth pussy only barely obscured by a piece of loose web strategically placed by the effects crew. Slight breezes often moved it enough to expose her cunt to the spider, and the camera. That was strategic too.
The mechanical spider, nearly the size of a horse, was right beside her, her torn clothes (what little she ever wore) hanging in scraps from its deadly mandibles.
She screamed. It was a good one to. That spider was truly terrifying for her. Her tits shook in their faux silk confines as the tan sex goddess explored her upper octave range. Her fit legs tried to kick against the secure web bindings.
Then the spider was lifted away from her, and tossed aside. It flew over the steep crest beside the web and down into a ravine. It was Tarzan!
"Tarzan! Oh thank God! That spider was going to eat me!" Bo's joy was semi genuine. She hated spiders, and even that mechanical one gave her tremors of terror in her heart. Now it was gone!
The camera caught an extended shot of Bo in the web expressing her thanks. For seemingly no reason, she moved her shoulders as she spoke, sending her tits into a wiggle. She even threw her blonde hair back over her shoulder. Her make up was perfect. To cap the scene, she even moved first one, then the other spread eagled leg seductively in her bindings.
"Tarzan here!" He beat a muscled arm against his muscled chest.
He moved to her and planted a big wet kiss forcibly onto her mouth. A camera close up indicating they were aggressively tongue dueling.
Camera pan out.
Tarzan had one strong hand on a tit, and the other on her opposite nude hip. And he started rubbing.
He was being an asshole again! Right on camera, right in front of her husband!
"Please Tarzan, can you get me free?" Bo tried to keep from blowing up in anger and stayed in character. Jon, the director, had earlier expressed worry that they were 'running out of daylight'. She was a professional. Not like douche bag here, who thought having a big cock was a free pass through life.
"Yes, me make you free!" Tarzan grunted.
The webbing, artificially manufactured of course. Was tough to break. Tarzan's hands went to her breasts. By yanking on the plastic web ropes, he rubbed the tough plastic ropes into her deeply tanned tits. The web pressed in, bulging her tit flesh around them. Then he pulled the web upward and downward, cheese grating her nipples.
"I don't (painful gasp) think that (ouch!) is working, Tarzan!" The pain really was significant. Her nipples betrayed her and erected fully. When the plastic web yanked back and forth over them, the nipples actually bounced and sprang in response to the sadistic grating they were getting. Fierce red mark lines on her plump round titties showed where Tarzan had pulled and sawed the webs laterally across her bosom.
Bo's face was scrunched in pain. She tried to knee Tarzan in the balls, but her legs were securely, tightly bound. The effort did writhe her legs a little (camera pan out and focus on legs, until she realized the futility.)
"Tarzan, this is hurting me!" Not really pleading, but unveiled fury was in her voice. Her eyes were daggers at her 'rescuer'.
"Tarzan try harder, pretty girl!" Uh oh.
Somehow, he looped a plastic web around her left tit. It noosed her breast right up against the base of the chest. The tit flesh bulged out, even the nipple seemed to inflate further and double it's protrusion.
"Aaaghhh, this isn't working!"
Then the right mammary. Again right to the base, squeezing the tit brutally outwards. What's worse, by shortening the rope by looping it, Bo was now hanging suspended by her tits! Her full body weight, more than a hundred pounds! Her tits almost immediately flushed red.
The pain caused her legs to kick. This caused her body to rock side to side, pulling and yanking on her tits. Would they pull right off? Leave Bo with a flat chest?
Tarzan grabbed a web that was around her legs, brought up it's end, and tied it around her nipple! Synched it so tight, his muscled arm flexing and straining. Her nipple was ready to burst! As her tits were rapidly turning from red to purple, her nipple was shading even darker. Every time her leg kicked (and she could not control her legs at this point) the noose around her nipple tightened. The nipple lasso began the process of yanking her nipple right off the end of her tit.
He repeated the process with the other nipple. I mean, leaving her with one nipple would be weird.
As Bo writhed in agony. The only question is what would yank free first, one of her tits, or one of her nipples?
Tarzan paused in his efforts. This was all off script. Improv you might say. The cameras rolled on. The director, the husband of this hot babe, almost drooling over his cinematography. No one was stopping him.
More play time.
He grabbed a web vine from between her legs. This exposed her smooth pussy to the camera. He yanked up hard, driving the plastic rope up into her naked crotch. She screamed.
Like a exercise machine at the gym, he brutally yanked the rope up between her legs over and over, so fast it was almost a blur. Most times, the rope worked itself inside her cunt lips, and into her pussy. The deep red marks on her pussy multiplied. And for every brutal red burn across the outside of her pussy, there were certainly five more within her. The rope was suddenly coated in pussy lubricant. Thick goops of girl juice, ran along the length of the rope, and dripped to the ground.
He paused, but only to noose the rope around her fiercely erect and protruding clit. He pulled, hard. The clit pulled her midsection forward from the web.
Her screams drowned out the sounds of Tarzan's exertions. He pulled again, as hard as he could, and tied off the clit noose so that Bo was suspended upward by her huge, continually darkening breasts. And suspended forwards by her clit being pulled out!
Again he paused. How much can husband director take? No one was stepping in to stop him. The camera's rolled.
Really, only one move left.
Tarzan reached up. I mentioned how tall he was, right? He looped down a plastic rope from above Bo. She was watching him as she screamed in tortured pain, but could not speak.
He looped the web around her neck. Her eyes widened further. Then he pulled. The web circled up somewhere behind Bo. It tightened around her throat. Then constricted visibly. Her screaming choked off. She was hanging by the neck. The neck rope was pulling her backwards, the tit ropes were pulling upwards, and her clit rope was pulling forwards.
So that when her body jerked and convulsed, she shook in mid air, pulled in all directions.
Tarzan lustily ran his hands over her purple tits, across her firm tight belly, along her sexy legs.
A minute without air. Bo's face was reddening.
A second minute without air, her eyes fluttered.
A third minute without air, her eyes rolled up in their sockets, showing the whites.
How long would director husband allow this? Tarzan didn't care, that was not his decision. He continued to enjoy rubbing his hands over her body.
A fourth, fifth minute. Her struggles lessened to almost nothing. The director was going to do it! He was going to film to the end! Wife snuff! I guess he could claim it was an 'accident', even collect insurance from her.
Bo was motionless. She still swayed slightly in the breeze. The camera was zooming in, so Tarzan stepped aside. Jon slowly ran the close up shot from her feet, up along her incredible body, to her face with those eyes that just showed the whites.
Camera again to the big tits. Camera again to the pussy. It was still leaking pussy juice! Then back to the head and expressionless face.
Jon raised his arm, preparing to yell 'cut'.
