Naked and barefoot, still cuffed to the pipe rack, I was forced to stay bent over at the waist.
It may not have been so bad if on cuff was one my wrist and the other around the pipe.
No, Mark, my boss, had put the
chain around the pipe support, then cuffed each wrist. I had absolutely no slack. Jerking on the cuff was no help. They were giving. Jerking again and again just made the tight metal dig into my wrists. I tried to stop jerking and really any movement, hoping to not to start bleeding.
My pussy and ass were extremely sore from Mark's brutal fucking. His cum was running down my leg. that.
I'd just been brutal raped by my boss yet somehow and the air blow across my skin my nipples harden and my pussy was on fire I was totally obsessed with getting fucked again.
I always loved being ground on in a line or guys grabbing my ass in a crowd. Hello, I only dated guys at least 5 years older because it was clear in their eyes that they wanted to sleep with me and weren't taking 'no' or 'I just want to be friends' as an answer.
This wasn't my first time ever in handcuffs. It was even my first time that week.
Somehow, I'm a horny bitch brain. I decided if I crossed my legs at a time and over the pipes over the racks of pipes I was cuffed to, I could at least rest my ass on the pipes going through the other rack.
This is where 9 years of cheerleading and 15 years of ballet came in handy, to really screw me up.
Bent at the waist with cuffed arms holding my head lower than my ass. My right leg flowed over the top pipe and slid across and down the other side.
Lucky for me I'm ever so limber. Full splits are achieved. I can contort into crazy positions.
My leg made it to the other side; the last piece of pipe was now past my ankle. I shifted my weight, and that is when gravity lent a hand, helping my foot hit the floor as expected.
Well, not quite.
I had not thought how far the collection of pipes would hold my legs spread. My tippy toes were touching on each side. I could not push in either direction.
Now I was cuffed naked and stuck with my legs stretched and all my weight on a very warm piece of pipe directly on my sore, pussy. Any movement sent shockwaves directly from my clit to my brain, but failed to give me the relief I needed.
The more I tried to help things, the worse I made them.
With my ponytail well gone, my hair lashed around head when my I saw the first flash.
I wasn't surprised to see Kyle there or that he was completely naked.
Holy fuck, his dick was like twice the size of his dad's.
What I needed were these fucking handcuffs off. Then I could worry about how deep that would lodge itself in my throat.
No surprise Kyle had other plans.
Oh my God. What is this? Kyle is actually being nice?
My thoughts were a jumble.
Kyle placed an open water bottle
to my lips.
In the events and my struggles, I hadn't realized how dehydrated I had gotten.
I was thankful.
My soreness, and situation slipped my mind, fading to the cool liquid slipping down my throat.
My senses sprang back to life as the thick, salty taste hit my taste buds.
