Andy and Sissy, the All-American couple. The couple you watch when they’re walking hand in hand down the hall in school, and begin to daydream what it’d be like to be either of them. So gorgeous (both of them), so in love, so easy to like (but, hate at the same time), both of them carrying themselves in such a prim & proper fashion that you are certain that their shit REALLY doesn’t stink. And to top it off, they are even polite to one another. “Here Sissy, let me carry your books for you darling.” “Why thank you ever so much, Andy dear. You are such a kind and gentle man.” She drips sweetness. He exudes manliness and confidence, and friendliness to boot. They are indeed, the pillars-of-their-community, to be. Why, you couldn’t find a fault in either of them if you put cameras in every corner of their lives.

Or, could you?

Andy and Sissy, out in a secluded neck of the woods, where no one ever was seen (they checked for days and days), walking hand in hand. They passed through a lovely meadow, where several varieties of birds serenaded them as they ambled by. Presently, they came to a babbling brook. The water, so clear and crisp and cold, and, “Will this spot do for me to serve you, Master Andy?” sweet Sissy inquired. OH, did I mention? As they ambled through this nature-paradise, they were indeed walking hand in hand. It’s just that, Sissy’s hands were tied tightly behind her back. Andy held her hand(s) while they walked.

After they parked a couple miles away, and before taking their little hike, Andy came around to open Sissy’s door (a gentleman always), and upon opening it, commanded sweet, darling Sissy, “Your back to me, hands behind your back.” She immediately obeyed her Master Andy, as always. When they were truly alone, they had a little different way with one another. Andy reached in the back seat of his Sebring convertible, and grabbed a handful of zip-ties. When he was finished with his sweet slave Sissy, she was absolutely at his mercy. First, he fastened her wrists tightly together, facing each other. Then, the elbows were lashed with several of the ties, to keep any one of them from digging in too deep. Once done with that, he told her to stand on the ground, so she stepped out of the car, and now stood on some grassy terf.

Andy removed first, her shoes & bobby socks (pitiful, ain’t it?), then he reached under her mini-skirt and slipped her panties off, then he unbuttoned her blouse, and since she had forgotten to wear a strapless bra, like Andy had told her to, he ripped that stinker off with a SNAP CRACKLE POP! She’d remember, next time. Then, he buttoned a couple of the lower buttons back, just so her blouse wouldn’t flap in the air, like a flag or something. A collar, leash, and some shackles to keep her from running away (fat chance), and her ensemble was complete. “You look just darling, Sugar Plum.” Andy mimicked himself from the way he talked to her in public. “Why thank you, kind sir,” she responded. “Okay, let’s walk.”

Now, they are at the aforementioned babbling brook, where Sissy has just inquired as to whether or not ‘Master’ Andy would care to be served. OH, you remember. Well, to move on then, Andy simply looked around to give one last survey, looked down at slave Sissy, and nodded. Which means, “You may commence to serve.” The poor dear was so tightly bound, she needed a little help from her Master, to kneel without falling into the aforementioned babbling…you know. Andy made haste to unzip his trousers, and thereupon reveal the REAL reason why Sissy was willing to play these otherwise ridiculous role-playing games with her ‘seven-years-running, boyfriend’. She may have had (and did have) the nicest, fullest, firmest, roundest, sweetest, tits you ever saw, but HE was the one who was well endowed. Oh my word! That bratwurst was a foot long, and at least 7” thick, I’m not lying. He always made Sissy’s mouth and pussy SO SORE, but she loved it and craved it SO MUCH. This little bondage game? If it made that ‘throat stretcher’ hard and excited, then, So Be It, she would play along like a BDSM queen! Can I get an AMEN!!??

She knelt, doing as she knew she must…eyes on the ground, not looking up at his cock, or in his eyes, but down, like a good little submissive slut, getting ready for a good, and I mean very good face fucking. How he got this monstrosity is anybody’s guess, because his dad’s was pretty puny…but I digress. So, eh hem, there they were, the finest of the finest in male & female prepster-hood, preparing for a blissful, cum-filled afternoon. Andy let his wrecking ball hang straight out, and with both hands free, picked up Sissy’s chin with one hand, and played swirly-swirl with one of her very hard nipples, with the other. “Oh, you look so hot, all tied up and helpless like that, slave girl.” Andy blurted. “Open wide now, bitch.” He seldom used that word, bitch, but the excitement kind of overwhelmed him. He wasn’t a Total Donny Osmond, after all.

She really did open her mouth as wide as she could, but it was never enough. His Mandingo was so huge, it stretched her jaw open, till she was straining not to gag on it with every desperate breath, through her nose of course. J Now, the hard part J , was that she was also given another command. “Swallow every drop today, or you get the cane.” Uh huh huh, OMG, not that! Sissy was so full of excitement, fear, exhilaration, COCK, and dread, she just knelt there trembling, and moaning, and whimpering, and begging with her big eyes, “please please, not the cane!” “Oh, yes,,,bitch. You do it right, or you’ll be getting caned, for sure.

Andy was skilled at taking hold of her hair, and controlling the tempo of her head movements. While he manhandled her head with one hand, he diddled and piddled, and doe-dee-doe skittled with those fan-fucking-tastic nipples of hers. Damn, it was good to be him! I could kill him, personally, and I’m just the storyteller! I mean, when this kid went out for football, he was NOT impressive, by any means. When the coach called his two favorite players over, and told them to pick teams for a scrimmage, Andy was the third to last boy to get picked. He could catch okay, he ran kinda funny though, and he couldn’t throw worth a damn. But, after catching a glimpse of him in the shower (the coach was a closet-gay man), he immediately made him starting quarterback, and captain of the team. “He hands off pretty good,” was how he defended his decision. Slave Sissy’s wrists and elbows, and ankles were getting sore, but nothing like her mouth was.

FINALLY, he came! Buckets of the stuff, volcanoed out of his Saturn V rocket, and ran all over Sissy. It oozed out of her mouth like cream filling out of a Hostess Twinkie. It dripped all over her luscious tits, ran down her bare, smooth, flat belly, streamed its way all the way to her bare, freshly shaven slit, and on it traveled down her silky, milky white inner thighs, and came to puddle up on the ground beneath her. Oh, I forgot, yeah, he stripped her naked before he began. Anyway, it was obvious to any passer-by, that she had failed the command that came with an ultimatum, “swallow it all, or get the cane.” Sissy was so full of creamy jism, and so turned on, she didn’t fucking know, or care what ‘the cane’ meant, but she’d take her punishment, if she could just do this for the rest of her life. Andy just lingered there for a few minutes, soaking in the satisfaction that naturally came from such an explosive orgasm. He got a little weak in the knees, but he held his ground. Eventually, he slowly slid his crocodile out of her mouth, and then stepped back, to get a good view of his beauty, his slave, his cock-sucking champion of a woman, slave Sissy.

He admired her, up and down, down and up, over and under, through and through. “You are awesome, slave.” He said proudly. “I’m so glad you’re mine.” Sissy sat up a little straighter when she heard that. She was proud of herself too…and spent, and still horny, because she wanted that lumber yard in her still-wet canal o’ love, and soon! “I want to fuck you good and hard now, bitch,” the words were music to Sissy’s ears. “Yes Master Andy, sir. Right away, sir.” And she stood up somehow, and hobbled over to where he was reclining. “How do you want me, sir?” she asked, as if asking a photographer how to pose, so she could become world famous, or something. “No, first comes the cane.” Andy answered. What he really meant, was the Cane, the Cane River was the name of the babbling brook they were having their afternoon delight next to, and it was a spring-fed river, and it was ice cold year ‘round. Andy picked her up, walked over to the edge of the stream, and tossed her in. She was under water for a little while. Andy started to worry. Suddenly, like an under-water rocket, she shot up out of the freezing brook, screaming at the top of her lungs, “OOOOHHHHH, SHHHiiiiiTTTTTT !!!!!!!”

Since she was still tightly bound, screaming was her only means of expressing any of her surprise, or dismay, or unbelief, or agony, or anything. She was cold and wet, but make no mistake, she was still her Master’s slave, and she still wanted that oil derrick in her twat. She hobbled her way to the bank, relied on Andy’s strong arms to lift her back out of the painfully cold water, and dry her off with her own clothes. It was all that was handy. Then he laid the clothing in the open, to dry in the sun, and led his slave to a clearing, where he gently laid her down on her back, and slowly, methodically, gave her the mind-bending-est fucking she could ever hope to have. As cold as she’d been, she was wet with sweat by the time he was finished, not to mention ~ very sore indeed.

With extra zip ties within easy reach, Andy undid the ones around slave Sissy’s feet. Then, he used the two trees that he had cleverly positioned her between, to tie her ankles, so that her wondrous inner thigh paradise was in full view, fully visible, touchable, lickable, fuckable, and her sweet nectar-producing pink pussy lips were so delicious-looking, and nicely swollen. With legs well spread, arms bound behind back, the young sex slave was looking like the most appetizing buffet imaginable. Andy kinda got carried away with his manly exuberance. But, one thing is for sure ~ nobody was complaining.

They napped there for an hour or so, cuddled up in each other’s arms (Andy untied her after her pounding), and they awoke and kissed, every now and then. “Next Saturday? Same place, same time?” Andy proposed. “Deal, Master,” slave Sissy whispered. Then, they got up, got dressed, and headed back to the car, and no one would ever be the wiser.

They thought.

George Bethwit was a friendless kid. He always tried to find secluded places to sit and have his lunch. Today, as luck would have it, he found a nice tree stump to sit on, in a thicket beside a babbling brook. He saw the two teenagers come down to the stream, on the other side, and wondered at first, why the girl walked so funny, with her arms behind her back, and taking baby steps, and all. He soon found out, as he watched in secret. He watched the whole affair, from no more than 50 feet away, very quietly. When the two lovers laid down for their nap, George finished off his peanut butter & jelly sandwich, opened his fly, and masturbated like it was going out of style. He shot a wad bigger than he’d ever imagined he ever would. When he was done, and had cleaned himself off with a napkin, he stood up, gathered his trash, took one last look at that gorgeous naked girl, and said to himself, “Best lunch break I EVER had.”
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