Status: Completed!
Never Let You Go
Chapter 5
She opened his mouth for the gag, shoving it into place. Patrice couldn’t help it, as he gagged on the round object once more. He knew it would be a long evening. And he knew it would not be smart to put up a fight or resist the woman’s desires, no matter how sick it made him feel inside.
Eliana attached the straps together, through the buckle once more. She didn’t bother with the key this time, knowing that he was plenty helpless enough. She allowed her hands to glide slowly down his neck, clavicle, and chest, before both of them landed in her lap, limply.
She scooted backward on the bed, moving a few feet away from her dream crush, as he sat, shifting his torso back and forth in frustration, as his face screwed up in a tight force of concentration.
She watched him with a delicate interest and cocked her head to the side, as she stared at him.
He finally glimpsed her looking at him with that look of pleasure and sweetness and stopped. He froze in place, refusing to give her the show she longed for. He was not there to spoil her. He wasn’t going to hurt her, but he didn’t like being in the center of the action. He wasn’t amused at being humiliated and emasculated like this. And where were Tyler, Patrick and Jonathan? Were they also being tortured like this? Or were they getting a better treatment or a worse treatment than him?
“Sweet, perfect Patrice,” she softly spoke, as she lifted her arm back out in front of her and touched his cheek, over the strap of the gag. He flinched at her touch, feeling hurt.
“Leeah me uaow!” He attempted to say to her.
She knew he meant to say, “Let me go” but the gag rephrased the command slightly. She giggled at that, wrinkling her nose up at his adorableness. The redhead slowly got onto her knees. She lifted upward, bringing her hands to her waist. She leisurely curled her fingers around the material at the end of her blouse and, at a snail’s pace, brought the material up her body, revealing her skin and bra to him. She tossed the shirt to the floor. Then she leaned backward, propelling her chest outward.
She let her head drop backward and shook it back and forth, to remove the strands of her hair from her face. Her crimson locks swayed with her movement, causing the Boston Bruin’s cheeks to burn red. She tilted her head to the side and glimpsed his look. She smiled, taking in his expression. His mouth was gaped open slightly, parted at his lips, thanks to the red ball, she’d inserted in. And his eyebrows were knit in upward slant, as his eyes bulged out at her.
As she shook her head, her shoulders moved back and forth and her torso became involved. His brown eyes couldn’t help themselves, as they travelled down her face to her chest, where her breasts sloshed around a bit, barely concealed by her bra. She watched as he stared at her, frozen in place. And it fed her gratification and bliss.
She finally stopped teasing him and slid toward him. He muffled something else to her, but this time she couldn’t translate it. Instead she put the back of her hand on his face and stroked him, running her fingers gently up and down his skin, gliding down over the gag strap. She felt his shiver and it made her shiver. He shuddered and she shuddered with him.
She reached to the side and snatched up a second ball gag from her toys and lifted it up to her own mouth. “We are one, you and I, Patrice!” And with that, she stuffed the red ball into her own mouth and fastened the straps around her head.
Patrice shifted his weight once more, feeling uncomfortable. She didn’t handcuff her hands like him, because she couldn’t, but she mimicked the bondage, slipping her hands behind her back. Then she leaned forward and brushed her nose against the hockey player’s, thrusting upward at him.
He moaned to her and she mocked him. He muffled something else behind the ball and she tried her best to translate it in her head and then repeat. He shook his torso and she copied him. He angrily shot something at her and she figured that he didn’t like her mocking him with the copycat moves. She ignored him and continued to mimic him. She struggled to scoot closer, maintaining the position of having her arms back and his finger entwined to keep them there. They howled in unison into their ball gags, as she grind her body into his and he reacted to her.
After a while, she unlatched her hands and returned them to her front. She removed the gag from her mouth and tossed it to the floor, where her blouse lay. Her saliva had drenched the object, as she carelessly flung it to the floor.
He watched as she slid to the side, cradling his head in her hands and gradually forced him backward, into a sleeping position on his back. He felt his own saliva slipping to the back of his throat and tickling him. It made his choke and gag and tears swelled in his eyes. She dabbed them away with his shirt, gently.
Eliana was propped on her side, staring down into his sparkling amber pools of sweetness, that flashed with pain and a variety of emotions. “Don’t worry, Pat, I’m finished. I’m done. I’ve had as much fun as I’ve wanted to. Now it is just time to say good bye.”
Eliana attached the straps together, through the buckle once more. She didn’t bother with the key this time, knowing that he was plenty helpless enough. She allowed her hands to glide slowly down his neck, clavicle, and chest, before both of them landed in her lap, limply.
She scooted backward on the bed, moving a few feet away from her dream crush, as he sat, shifting his torso back and forth in frustration, as his face screwed up in a tight force of concentration.
She watched him with a delicate interest and cocked her head to the side, as she stared at him.
He finally glimpsed her looking at him with that look of pleasure and sweetness and stopped. He froze in place, refusing to give her the show she longed for. He was not there to spoil her. He wasn’t going to hurt her, but he didn’t like being in the center of the action. He wasn’t amused at being humiliated and emasculated like this. And where were Tyler, Patrick and Jonathan? Were they also being tortured like this? Or were they getting a better treatment or a worse treatment than him?
“Sweet, perfect Patrice,” she softly spoke, as she lifted her arm back out in front of her and touched his cheek, over the strap of the gag. He flinched at her touch, feeling hurt.
“Leeah me uaow!” He attempted to say to her.
She knew he meant to say, “Let me go” but the gag rephrased the command slightly. She giggled at that, wrinkling her nose up at his adorableness. The redhead slowly got onto her knees. She lifted upward, bringing her hands to her waist. She leisurely curled her fingers around the material at the end of her blouse and, at a snail’s pace, brought the material up her body, revealing her skin and bra to him. She tossed the shirt to the floor. Then she leaned backward, propelling her chest outward.
She let her head drop backward and shook it back and forth, to remove the strands of her hair from her face. Her crimson locks swayed with her movement, causing the Boston Bruin’s cheeks to burn red. She tilted her head to the side and glimpsed his look. She smiled, taking in his expression. His mouth was gaped open slightly, parted at his lips, thanks to the red ball, she’d inserted in. And his eyebrows were knit in upward slant, as his eyes bulged out at her.
As she shook her head, her shoulders moved back and forth and her torso became involved. His brown eyes couldn’t help themselves, as they travelled down her face to her chest, where her breasts sloshed around a bit, barely concealed by her bra. She watched as he stared at her, frozen in place. And it fed her gratification and bliss.
She finally stopped teasing him and slid toward him. He muffled something else to her, but this time she couldn’t translate it. Instead she put the back of her hand on his face and stroked him, running her fingers gently up and down his skin, gliding down over the gag strap. She felt his shiver and it made her shiver. He shuddered and she shuddered with him.
She reached to the side and snatched up a second ball gag from her toys and lifted it up to her own mouth. “We are one, you and I, Patrice!” And with that, she stuffed the red ball into her own mouth and fastened the straps around her head.
Patrice shifted his weight once more, feeling uncomfortable. She didn’t handcuff her hands like him, because she couldn’t, but she mimicked the bondage, slipping her hands behind her back. Then she leaned forward and brushed her nose against the hockey player’s, thrusting upward at him.
He moaned to her and she mocked him. He muffled something else behind the ball and she tried her best to translate it in her head and then repeat. He shook his torso and she copied him. He angrily shot something at her and she figured that he didn’t like her mocking him with the copycat moves. She ignored him and continued to mimic him. She struggled to scoot closer, maintaining the position of having her arms back and his finger entwined to keep them there. They howled in unison into their ball gags, as she grind her body into his and he reacted to her.
After a while, she unlatched her hands and returned them to her front. She removed the gag from her mouth and tossed it to the floor, where her blouse lay. Her saliva had drenched the object, as she carelessly flung it to the floor.
He watched as she slid to the side, cradling his head in her hands and gradually forced him backward, into a sleeping position on his back. He felt his own saliva slipping to the back of his throat and tickling him. It made his choke and gag and tears swelled in his eyes. She dabbed them away with his shirt, gently.
Eliana was propped on her side, staring down into his sparkling amber pools of sweetness, that flashed with pain and a variety of emotions. “Don’t worry, Pat, I’m finished. I’m done. I’ve had as much fun as I’ve wanted to. Now it is just time to say good bye.”