BowPi’s Halloween: Part Three
By Victor Von Doum
EAGER TO PLEASE HER (continued)
“Nnnnnnnmmmmph!! Uh-nnnmmmph!!!” Amy shrieks into her gags, pulling at her leg-bindings and pushing herself off the bed with all her might. Despite her efforts, with the tightness of all the ropes all over her, she doesn’t even budge the heavy bed, barely shaking it. With the wooden heels of her cowgirl boots tightly lashed to the wooden footboard, she can only lift them a few millimeters off, barely enough for clunk-making. Amy’s attempts at moving her legs do allow the tight cotton ropes around Amy’s cross-tied ankles to produce a little leather-on-leather squeaking, however. Amy looks at Penelope in fear; wondering what she is planning for her, livid that Penelope is calling her by that hated nickname once again; and pissed off beyond belief that Penelope is poised to ruin her evening with Brett.
Penelope approaches Amy’s roped-apart legs. Knowing Amy cannot move her knees together or kick her boots forward, Penelope leans forward and begins unbuckling the open-square pewter buckle of Amy’s wide saddle brown belt. Panicky, Amy forgets to use her still-free fingers under the small of her back to grab her belt, but instead tries as hard as she can to move backward and away from Penelope; she only succeeds in getting her jeans pulled down to the top of her panties, as Penelope noticed Amy’s movement and grabs the sides of her jeans’ waist before Amy can realize it and stops her writhing.
“Thanks for the effort, you little sluttie. You still own me one—at least—from what I remember from the barn last month. Oh, and thanks for packing the bandannas in your back pockets, you sweaty pig. Saved me from having to use some of mine on you. Oh, and those boots? They’re MINE, bitch. Although still they look practically brand new, I’m taking them back once we break ‘em in. Yeah, don’t worry; these virgin boots will see LOTS of action tonight. You simply cannot pull off a cowgirl look the way I can. Just compare how we’re both dressed tonight, you little tramp. Plus, didn’t you see how my man and I dressed in perfectly complementary Halloween colors, while you and your farm boy dressed like low-class bums?”
Amy shakes her head from side to side, yelling “Fmmck ymmm! Fmmmck ymmmm!!” furious at the possibility of Penelope’s ruining the evening, of losing these great new Lucchese boots, of Penelope’s put-down of Brett, and her insulting the urban cowgirl look she’s worked so hard at cultivating. Still, she can’t help but think about what Penelope means by ‘virgin boots.’ “Could she possibly know I’m still a virgin?” the thought runs through Amy’s head.
“Tsk, tsk, Amy, my poor sweet little Amy. I don’t think you’re in ANY position to mouth off. Have you forgotten your manners?”
Amy shoots back a glare of anger, remembering how Penelope used the same bandannas to gag her in the barn the month before, livid that Penelope’s put her in the same helpless position again, and ballistic that Penelope appears intent on taking Brett’s place tonight, after so many weeks of such anticipation.
Penelope sees Amy’s look of anger, but merely smirks before sitting on the bed on Amy’s left side, right at hip level. “Mmt mmwy fmm mgh, mu mmmgk!” (“Get away from me, you freak!”) Amy yells, but Penelope pays her no heed as she places her left hand on Amy’s left thigh, rubbing it seductively from bent-over-footboard knee to now-revealing-panty-level. Penelope then moves to Amy’s chest and methodically unbuttons Amy’s light brown suede vest. Amy shakes her head in protest, but Penelope merely sighs.
“How about we go a little tit-for-tat, tat-for-tit, whatever you want to call it? Here’s how it works: YOU take off an article of clothing, and then I take off the same one. Should work pretty easy, ya know? Kind of like strip poker without the cards.” Amy pants heavily through her nose, fearful at how Penelope is going to sex-torture her.
Penelope answers Amy’s silence very quickly. Having now completely unbuttoned Amy’s vest, Penelope peels it back to each side, pushing the tops of each side of the vest under the rope that’s running above the tops of Amy’s boobs. True to her deal, Penelope unbuttons her own vest, takes if off, and throws it onto a desk-chair. Its shiny black leather makes a scrunching sound when in lands on the chair-back.
Now addressing her attention to Amy’s creamy-yellow shirt, Penelope moves to straddle Amy’s prone helpless body. Slowly swinging her left leg over Amy and placing each of her knees to line up with Amy’s hips, Penelope unbuttons Amy’s top shirt button—the only button above the four tie-down ropes—then moves on to all those in points lower. Amy shakes her head, helpless to prevent the onslaught.
“Oh, BowPi, how I DO love your little boobies,” Penelope remarks, slowly massaging Amy’s breasts on the outside of her bra before unclasping the front-snap and moving each cup off to the side. “So nice and perky,” Penelope pauses, “Tasty too, I bet.”
“Mmm, mmm!!” (“Uh-uh!) Amy yells, shaking her head furiously, while Penelope, ignoring her captive’s pleas, moves in. Taking Amy’s left breast in her right hand, Penelope cups underneath it, pushing it up with her right thumb and forefinger into the tight wide set of tie-down ropes running just over the tops of Amy’s boobs, squishing it and forcing Amy’s already-erect nipple even higher.
Penelope licks her lips, moves her head down, and starts to suck Amy’s right nipple and aureole, taking intermittent gentle nibbles of each. Feeling her sensitive nipples toyed this way, Amy’s eyes close and her breathing starts to quicken. Fully aware of her unwilling participation, she bites into her thick mouthpack and cleave-gag, conflictingly hoping that Penelope continues this process that feels so incredibly good.
“Oh, where ARE my manners?” Penelope snottily asks rhetorically, “I promised you we’d go tit-for-tat, but in all the excitement I forgot to reciprocate,” as she proceeds to unbutton her creamy white silk blouse with her right hand, using her left hand to stroke Amy’s right breast. Slipping out of her shirt and tossing it onto the floor to her right, Penelope then puts her arms behind her back, unhooks the clasp of her fancy silk bra, and moves her arms so that it falls right onto Amy’s face. Amy shakes her head to get it off of her, getting a deep whiff of Penelope’s expensive perfume in the process, a scent that Amy finds intoxicating.
With Penelope’s firm, natural 36Cs now on full display, she begins tweaking her own nipples. Still kneeling and straddling Amy’s hips, Penelope licks both sets of fingertips, and then rubs that wetness onto each of her own breasts, closing her eyes and purring in luxuriation:
“Told ya, BowPi, tat-for-tit.”
FINGER-LICKING GOODNESS
She licks her fingertips again, but this time rubbing her saliva onto Amy’s nipples, which now can feel the coolness of the room’s air temperature contrasting with her and Penelope’s own rising body heat inside. Penelope slides her knees down the bed and moves from her straddle position to align her whole body with Amy’s bound, gagged and utterly helpless one, carefully aiming her nipples with Amy’s. Slowly, Penelope descends from her on-top level; all four nipples touch each other simultaneously as Penelope increases her body weight onto Amy, moving toward the right side of Amy’s face to plant kisses and heavy breathing around Amy’s ear.
Moving from the side of Amy’s face, Penelope plants a series of small suction-y kisses closer and closer to Amy’s cleave-gagged-apart full lips. Amy, with her eyes closed and in near-ecstasy, unconsciously attempts to kiss back before realizing what she was doing, opening her eyes and stopping her kiss out of defiance; she doesn’t turn her head away however, giving Penelope a clear signal to advance. Changing over to the left side of Amy’s face, Penelope continues her barrage of light tongue-y kisses, gentle nibbles to the ear, and strokes the left side of Amy’s chestnut hair, frequently passing by and touching the tight blue bandanna cleave-gag she’d applied to her younger captive. Slowly Penelope moves her left hand’s fingers from a brief stop on both of Amy’s pulsating breasts to positions lower down: Amy’s sternum, her belly, the ropes encircling her just above her unbuckled, splayed wide-open belt and jean-tops and on to Amy’s exposed powder blue panties, already damp from all the evening’s recent activity.
Penelope moves in, and whatever resistance Amy could possibly offer she fails even to attempt. Penelope places her left finger lightly on top of Amy’s easily findable engorged clit and starts applying light pressure from outside the panties; Amy, having endured five weeks of hormone-filled, erotic-dreamed, self-imposed chastity, sees her pelvis jump involuntarily. Her hands, tied at the wrist under the top of her rock-hard ass, clench into fists and grab at the blanket beneath her. Penelope witnesses Amy’s reaction and smirks with smug satisfaction as she presses on with her seduction.
MOVING UP AND OUT
Heather comes out of her grogginess, with a fairly good sized bump on the side of her head and a headache to match. Looking around and recalling her trip and fall, she sees Erica tending to Stef, “Mm-mm—mma! Mmm mme gmmmh!” (“Erica, let me go!”) Heather, securely pole-tied and thoroughly silenced, gag-yells, but Erica merely notices that her hostage has awakened.
Erica takes another look at the ropes and gags she’s applied onto Heather: noticing the tightness of the wet gag-scarf over Heather’s full mouthpack, the color contrast between the darker hemp rope and Heather’s oh-so-white Dallas Cowgirl boots, and the tightness of the ropes around her ankles cinching inward the white boots’ leather, the ropes around the upper shins, lower thighs; wrists, and the support-ropes running under her boobs fixing her to the pole. Erica quickly resumes her attempts to revive Stef, who starts coming to, emitting some groans and starting to move her eyelids. Heather looks on at Erica’s attempts at waking Stef in frustration, unable to free herself off the floor with all the tight hemp ropes pinning her to the pole, and the tight gags silencing her.
Erica then remembers what Penelope had announced just before applying chloroform to Stef and her: “I’ve got a little slut sister’s party to crash,” and realizes she has to go save Amy from Penelope. “How did Penelope know about Amy and Brett’s hook-up in Jim’s room?” Erica ponders, but realizes she’s going to have to figure it out later; she also knows that Stef needs more attention, so Erica runs up the basement stairs, out of the ground-floor storage room, out of the hallway, back into the party to go searching frantically for Jim and Brett so they can help.
BACK IN THE COWGIRL SADDLE
Penelope toys with Amy’s womanhood from on top of the powder blue cotton panties, pressing down with her left middle finger, and then alternating back-and-forth movements with circular ones. Feeling Amy’s juices soaking the panties, Penelope moves her hand under them, expertly using her index and ring fingers to separate Amy’s labia, then applying just the right amount of touch to Amy’s clitoris: forward and back, around and around. After just a few minutes of stimulation from her talented hands, Amy’s body lies firmly at the edge of orgasm. She is grunting now, her moans increasing as Penelope brings her closer and closer to the long-awaited Big O.
Then, like a detonator pull-back, Penelope decreases her middle-finger’s pressure. For a moment, Amy wonders whether Penelope is going to tease her and cruelly prevent this orgasm, if only as retribution for the barn episode five weeks before. Amy tries to compose herself as best she can, consoling herself with the possibility that maybe Penelope will leave her frustrated but leave her, nonetheless.
No sooner had Amy finished this thought than Penelope steps up the pressure and plunges that detonator, applying more and more pressure onto Amy’s tender spot using the same motions, just more intensely. A few seconds later, that stack of TNT ignites: Amy grunts hard into her gags as a powerful orgasm explodes over her body. Had Penelope not tied her down, Amy would have bounded from the bed as the climax makes her body thrash uncontrollably. Penelope’s fingers never waver, making the orgasm run on and on, with ever-stronger waves. This intense pleasure sweeps over Amy as she moans into the gags, coming harder than she ever has before.
“MMMMMphsss!! MMMMMphsss!!!” Amy muffled cries roar, as she lies trembling on the bed.
“Oh, like that one, BowPi?” Penelope taunts. Amy involuntarily nods, ever so glad that Penelope was not merely teasing her. Noticing Amy’s nods, Penelope takes a long suck from her left middle finger and replies, “Yum. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet then, sister. Not with the sweet way YOU taste.” Amy’s eyes widen anew.
Penelope, still merely topless, kneels on the bed next to Amy’s left side, and unbuckles her own tooled black leather belt. Removing it from her leather pants, she doubles it over and gives Amy a playful light smack on the tummy before laying it on the bed. Moving to sit at the edge of the bed, Penelope takes off her fancy black left cowgirl boot and places it upright on the floor, leaving her short black sock on; she then takes off her right boot and places it next to the left. She slides off the bed, stands up, and—to give Amy a full view—walks to the foot of bed, unzips her fly and slowly steps out of her black leather trousers, revealing some frilly skimpy black underwear. She carefully lays her pants atop the chair back where she’d placed her leather vest, creating a soft leather-on-leather crunching sound; Penelope then walks the few steps to her side-by-side boots, and steps back into them.
Making the wood-on-wood few steps back to the end of the bed, Penelope carefully grabs the sides of still-trembling-with-post-orgasmic-delight Amy’s belt and jeans. She tugs at them, pulling Amy’s jeans, then panties, down to the just-above-the-boot-tops ropes that run from Amy’s legs to the bedposts. Amy’s unbuckled belt droops, first between her boots, with the pewter buckle tapping at her left boot before soon flipping over that boot and hitting the wooden footboard with a plonking sound. Penelope then kneels at the end of the bed—her luscious black cowgirl boot snip-tips now flat on the wooden floor—and approaches Amy’s wide-open lips.
“You know, BowPi, I don’t do this for just anyone. Don’t worry though, I’ll get out of it at LEAST as much as you will, maybe more,” Penelope breathily states just before moving closer. She tenderly places her right hand on Amy’s inner left thigh and her left hand on Amy’s right thigh, and then gently pulling at each leg to clear her path to Amy’s holiest of wholies. Penelope starts slowly, kissing each inner thigh, slowly adding increasing amounts of tongue. She then moves on to Amy’s outer lips; the first touch makes Amy’s legs quiver as Penelope brings out her long slow tongue movements. Moving on to Amy’s inner lips and clit, Penelope delivers these motions: up and down, around and around, in and out, over and over again. Amy swallows deeply from these repetitive motions, approaching another O when Penelope pulls back, saying:
“You taste so sweet, my dear, but I need a better angle. Or, better yet, maybe a better number, preferably one between 68 and 70, hmmm?”
Amy can’t believe what is happening as Penelope stands back up, walks around the bed, then reverse-straddles Amy by kneeling: moving one booted leg around onto the right side of Amy’s face, and then her other boot next to the left side; the outlaw’s black boot heels hit each other and click again and again, just behind the top of Amy’s head. Penelope skillfully places her boots against Amy’s cheeks from time to time, to press the top of her firm shafts onto Amy’s soft and increasingly sweaty skin. The sights, smells, and face-touching impressions of Penelope’s boots, her perfume, but most overwhelmingly her finely shaved labia poised inches from the top of Amy’s face overload her senses. Penelope begins touching herself:
“I hope you don’t mind. Shame, though: it’s not as if you can do much to ME with those gags on. Guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands, you know?” Penelope bitchily states as her juices begin flowing, dropping onto Amy’s face and into the cloth of her gags. A few drops hit Amy’s upper lip; she tries in vain to move her tongue to taste the sweet nectar that her nose is detecting. Her raw passion setting aside their years of bitterness, Amy fervently hopes that Penelope will ungag her and plunge her shorn-but-for-a-tuft-at-the-top pussy onto her face, allowing her first taste ever of a woman’s juice, her first tongue on a vagina, her first orally produced orgasm of any kind.
“Mmmgmmnk meh, pmm!” (Un-gag me, please!)” Amy implores, moving her head up off the bed to signal her desire. Her nose comes close to hitting Penelope’s diddling left middle finger when Penelope cries out in short gasps:
“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh…….!” as a trickle of love juice drips onto Amy’s cleave gag, soaking it further. Enough falls onto her lower lip that Penelope’s sweet liquid seeps past Amy’s mouthpack and onto her tongue. Amy eyes roll back into her head; with only a glimpse of this champagne-y juice, she wants more. Penelope, smiling with self-satisfaction but needing more, starts to stretch her body back down Amy’s and purrs, “You didn’t think I’d forgotten about you, did you?”
Penelope moves down Amy’s body, kissing her lower torso before heading back to Amy’s labia, gently pulling apart her far-upper thighs once again. As her tongue starts licking Amy lower lips again, Penelope lowers her own set of lower lips onto Amy’s face, smothering her with luscious steaminess by occasionally crossing her own boots to squeeze her legs around Amy’s face. Amy finds breaths when she can, moving her nose to hit Penelope’s clit: side to side, up and back, and in circles, whatever motion her mostly immobilized body can muster. Penelope continues treating Amy’s pussy like a melting ice cream cone, licking and sucking, faster and faster, harder and harder, until Penelope sticks her long tongue as deep inside Amy as it will go. Amy, never having felt this kind of penetration, grabs the blankets underneath her, and erupts furiously: an orgasm of Krakatoan proportions. She banshee-shrieks into her gag, “Mmmmmmmm-arrrrrrgh!!!” uncontrollably moving her head upward where it hits Penelope’s clit dead on.
Penelope feeling both Amy’s massive O and the pressure onto her clit, crosses her cowgirl boots behind Amy’s head, grabs the blankets at the end of the bed on either side of Amy’s hips, buries her face in Amy’s crotch before pulling her head back out and yelling, “Ggggggnnnk!! Ahhhhh!!!. Oh my fucking…” before she stops suddenly, out of breath, rolling over to Amy’s right side. Both women lie there in post-MAJOR orgasmic ecstasy, catching their breath and taking in all the successive waves they possibly can. Moments pass.
“Wow, BowPi. Phew. Just wow. You’re pretty damn good for a rookie.”
“Mmmph myu ummgk mme pmmm nmm?” (“Will you ungag me please now?”) Amy pants, disregarding Penelope’s taunt.
“You want me to ungag you? After you had so much fun with them in and on?” Penelope smirks. “Give me a second and I’ll think about it. Got to make a phone call first.”
Penelope, looking for her panties, finds them and pulls them on over her boots. She reaches into her gym bag, finds her cell phone, and dials Heather’s number: ring, ring, ring, then on into voicemail. Thinking Heather may not be hearing it at the party, Penelope keeps getting dressed: she takes off her boots to put back on her leather pants, replaces her boots, then puts back on her black leather belt, leaving it loose for the moment before she re-dials Heather: still nothing. “I told her to answer if I called. Shit! Now I have to go and see what the hell she’s doing,” Penelope thinks to herself.
“Shame you can’t look at this pair any more, BowPi,” Penelope mockingly announces as she stands at the end of the bed, puts back on her bra and her silk shirt, tucking it in and buckling her belt tightly, making a leathery squeak with the final tight cinch. She then adds her chocolate brown gun-belt and her black leather vest before she heads into the suite’s bathroom to make herself presentable again in a hurry and try Heather once again on her cell phone. With Penelope out of sight, Amy tugs on her bonds: no give in any of them. “Crap!” she thinks. “What the hell do I do now?”
Penelope walks out of the bathroom: auburn wig and outlaw mask now back on. She looks around and finds her black Stetson, picks it up and holds it in one hand. She picks up her gym back with the other, putting it over her shoulder when a thought comes to mind. She almost reaches into her gym bag to pull out a big white vibrator, when she remembers that Jim wears do-rags a lot, so she checks his night tables for more bandannas. Finding a big one of an American flag, she pulls it out when she spots something else in the drawer: a digital camera. Turning it on, she waits for it to warm up. Donning her Stetson, she turns to Amy.
“Been a real slice, babe, but a matter has come to my attention. And, because a few CUMS have just mattered to YOUR attention, I think you can sit pretty for a while till I get back, at which point I’ll be introducing you to my good friend Buzz: ‘Mr Buzzy’ to you, bitch. Got him when I had to replace the contents of the duffel when you, ‘Steffie,’ and ‘Erotica,’ STOLE it from me from the barn,” as she switches on the vibrator. Seeing its size and hearing it hum, Amy’s breathing and heartbeats race at the prospect of more orgasms, especially when she’s never experienced a vibrator before. Penelope turns the vibrator off and puts it back in the gym bag.
Penelope turns her back to check the camera; with its “ready” light now on, she checks the stored pictures and finds all those with her Heather from the barn the month before. “Gotcha,” she whispers. Meanwhile, she sets it to “Take Pictures” and aims it Amy: flash!
“Nnmmmm! Nuhmt!” (“No, don’t!!”) Amy cries.
“Don’t what? Don’t do exactly to you what you did to me and Heather a month ago, letting your hussy sister, that bitch Erica, Jim, and whatever-your-redneck-boyfriend’s-name-is all get a chance to laugh at us?! Fat fucking chance.” Amy tries to turns her head as Penelope takes maybe ten or twelve pictures of the top- and bottom-less gagged, booted babe, including several while standing and straddling her: a kind of modern version of the Colossus of Rhodes astride the watery harbor.
“Oh, and BowPi? While I’m glad MY boots finally got broken in, I will most certainly be getting them back from you when I return in a few minutes. Maybe then I’ll tell you the whole story about how your strumpet sister Stef tried to give them to me as a gift to be her lesbian lover back in high school. Yeah, as if! I told her I didn’t ‘slum,’ which is why I told you ‘I don’t do this for just anyone.’ It’s true, especially for low-class Kraut-Guineas like you and you sister. You tasted really good though, much better than I expected. Good thing I decided NOT to chloroform you; I guess I was feeling generous, hoping you’d enjoy it too. Clearly, you did: two big Os for you, and two for me. Add them to the pair each of us had in the barn last month and I say I’ve been more than fucking generous with you.”
“Fmmk mmmyu!” Amy gag-yells. She doesn’t believe Penelope’s allegation about Stef—Stef has told her that it was Penelope who made the offer—but it pisses Amy off to hear more lies from Penelope.
“Funny, I thought you just did. Toodles! Oh, and I’m going to be leaving you just the way you left me and Heather back in the barn,” Penelope declares as she moves over to Amy and wraps the big American flag bandanna around her eyes, blindfolding her tightly. Amy knows that resisting Penelope would get her nowhere, so she acquiesces. As Penelope finishes tying off the blindfold, she finishes her taunt, “Don’t fret: I’ll be deleting all the little pictures that Jimmy boy took of Heather and me in the barn. Then I won’t have to worry about behaving myself ever again.”
Penelope starts walking out, but stops, turns around and tells her captive, “By the way, BowPi: the gun? Soooo not loaded; you feel for the oldest trick in the book! Oh, and one more thing: you know why your hillbilly boyfriend hasn’t’ shown up yet?
“Mmmuh?” Amy, puzzled at how Penelope would know about Brett, let alone their relationship.
“Because Heather’s been hitting on him back at the bar! Oh, yeah: I wouldn’t be surprised if she already sucked him off and he was DOING her right now. He would evidently be making a much better choice than I just did! Don’t worry, though: I’m leave the door unlocked so maybe a couple of the pledges can find you and pull a train on you instead! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got your slut sister and her hosebag whore gal pal to molest.” Penelope clicks off the night-table light, walks out and shuts the door, putting back on her new shiny chocolate brown leather gloves as she exits.
“Nnnnnnmmmmmph!!” Amy thrashes about, hearing the news of Brett’s alleged cheating and Stef’s and Erica’s peril. Amy strains against her ropes: no play whatsoever. She keeps trying, hoping she can reach the knot on her wrist-ropes.