muttering. She was lifted in a fireman's carry, a strong muscleman on either side and moved to the historical jail cell, complete with iron bars, ankle and wrist irons mounted in the limestone walls.
"Oh, you're kidding me," she said into the silk scarf. The words sounded more like, "Oh, mrr, hidd'in mmee." She struggled against the hands beneath her bottom. But she was over powered, unable to fight her way free.
A thrill of fear and anticipation raced through her body as her wrists and ankles were forced into iron, the clamps clanking shut with a finality that made her wince.
The wrist bands were old and rusty. What if they didn't open again. Would she be stuck there forever wearing nothing but a thong and pasties?
That would go over well when families toured through the museum with small children.
With her arms clamped out to her sides and her legs spread wide, she couldn't go any farther than the chains allowed.
"You will permit each of my men to touch you, taste you and make love to you if that is what they wish."
"I mmm nnnnt," Charli refused, pulling against the restraints.
Original Sin nodded to the first man.
He came forward and flicked the jeweled pasties covering her nipples, then plumped her breasts, weighing each in his hands. His fingers squeezed them like melons, digging in until pain shot to her core, make her gasp and cream. Her arms shot out to capture his hands on her, but the iron bracelets caught her movement. Bending at the knees, he pressed his body against hers, sliding up her torso, his erection pressing through jeans to rub her skin.
"Next." Original Sin gave the next man the go-ahead.
The first guy pinched a nipple, pastie and all, one last time, then backed away, letting guy number two in.
This guy skipped the breasts, his hand curving around her waist, sliding lowered to her hips. He unzipped his jeans, his cock springing free.
Charli's eyes widened. Good Lord, he was hung and her pussy ached for some of that inside her, sliding in and out, her slick channel hugging him tight. She jerked her leg, wanting to wrap her ankles around his waist and sink down over his member.
When her feet wouldn't go higher than his knees, Charli almost cried.
He rubbed his stiff, thick cock over her belly, angling downward to the tiny triangle of fabric over her mons.
Juices oozed out around the edges of the thong. Charli looked over the man's shoulder at Original Sin, her gaze pleading with him.
His eyes narrowed, his own jeans tight around his fly. "Next."
Man number three swept in, shoving number two aside.
A tussle ensued, the men bumping chests in a show of studliness.
Charli didn't care. Their argument gave her a brief respite from torturing her.
Finally, the third man stepped up to her, slid his hand inside her panties and plunged a finger into her cunt, dredging his digit in her come. Then he proceeded to attack her clitoris, stroking it over and over until she panted, her body tense, ready to fly off the edge of the precipice.
"Stop!" Original Sin raised his hand, guy number three backed away allowing OS his turn with the sex slave.
Whimpering now, Charli tried to shift the scarf down off her face with her tongue, but to no avail.
Original Sin cupped the back of her head, shoved the scarf down and claimed her mouth in a hard, thrusting kiss, his hips pressing against hers, the ridge of his cock, rubbing against her naked belly.
"Please, I can't handle anymore. Take me. Please," she said into his mouth.
With two fingers, he pushed the scarf back in place and shook his head. "We're not through." He reached out and unlocked her wrist cuffs. "Suck my cock, sex slave."
She dropped to her knees, all too eager to please him. If she did as he asked, maybe then he'd sink his dick into her and let her have the climax she craved. Charli cupped his balls and wrapped her lips around his member.
He thrust in hard and fast, filling her mouth until his penis bumped into the back of her throat.
"Oh, you're kidding me," she said into the silk scarf. The words sounded more like, "Oh, mrr, hidd'in mmee." She struggled against the hands beneath her bottom. But she was over powered, unable to fight her way free.
A thrill of fear and anticipation raced through her body as her wrists and ankles were forced into iron, the clamps clanking shut with a finality that made her wince.
The wrist bands were old and rusty. What if they didn't open again. Would she be stuck there forever wearing nothing but a thong and pasties?
That would go over well when families toured through the museum with small children.
With her arms clamped out to her sides and her legs spread wide, she couldn't go any farther than the chains allowed.
"You will permit each of my men to touch you, taste you and make love to you if that is what they wish."
"I mmm nnnnt," Charli refused, pulling against the restraints.
Original Sin nodded to the first man.
He came forward and flicked the jeweled pasties covering her nipples, then plumped her breasts, weighing each in his hands. His fingers squeezed them like melons, digging in until pain shot to her core, make her gasp and cream. Her arms shot out to capture his hands on her, but the iron bracelets caught her movement. Bending at the knees, he pressed his body against hers, sliding up her torso, his erection pressing through jeans to rub her skin.
"Next." Original Sin gave the next man the go-ahead.
The first guy pinched a nipple, pastie and all, one last time, then backed away, letting guy number two in.
This guy skipped the breasts, his hand curving around her waist, sliding lowered to her hips. He unzipped his jeans, his cock springing free.
Charli's eyes widened. Good Lord, he was hung and her pussy ached for some of that inside her, sliding in and out, her slick channel hugging him tight. She jerked her leg, wanting to wrap her ankles around his waist and sink down over his member.
When her feet wouldn't go higher than his knees, Charli almost cried.
He rubbed his stiff, thick cock over her belly, angling downward to the tiny triangle of fabric over her mons.
Juices oozed out around the edges of the thong. Charli looked over the man's shoulder at Original Sin, her gaze pleading with him.
His eyes narrowed, his own jeans tight around his fly. "Next."
Man number three swept in, shoving number two aside.
A tussle ensued, the men bumping chests in a show of studliness.
Charli didn't care. Their argument gave her a brief respite from torturing her.
Finally, the third man stepped up to her, slid his hand inside her panties and plunged a finger into her cunt, dredging his digit in her come. Then he proceeded to attack her clitoris, stroking it over and over until she panted, her body tense, ready to fly off the edge of the precipice.
"Stop!" Original Sin raised his hand, guy number three backed away allowing OS his turn with the sex slave.
Whimpering now, Charli tried to shift the scarf down off her face with her tongue, but to no avail.
Original Sin cupped the back of her head, shoved the scarf down and claimed her mouth in a hard, thrusting kiss, his hips pressing against hers, the ridge of his cock, rubbing against her naked belly.
"Please, I can't handle anymore. Take me. Please," she said into his mouth.
With two fingers, he pushed the scarf back in place and shook his head. "We're not through." He reached out and unlocked her wrist cuffs. "Suck my cock, sex slave."
She dropped to her knees, all too eager to please him. If she did as he asked, maybe then he'd sink his dick into her and let her have the climax she craved. Charli cupped his balls and wrapped her lips around his member.
He thrust in hard and fast, filling her mouth until his penis bumped into the back of her throat.
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