Betty Jones

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The gal mates sniggered to each other, flattered, as they accepted the from the tall, wide and stellar stranger. He smiled but seemed peculiarly silent… preoccupied. They can reminisce the highly very first gulp of wine, but not the second. The club became a blur; the unknown suitor became a brooding brute… Sandra and Lauren have been unclothed down to their pantyhose and white, vintage, full body girdles; brown-haired curls and silver wags of hair streaming over nude shoulders as the rigidly roped twosome are pushed into glance in the box they’re confined captive in. They can't say a thing, thanks to the fabric wrap gag sealing their gullets shut. Their hulking harasser retrieves Sandra, relaxing her cords for a mere moment of ease before even further confinements befall her. He places the fine shape of the huge-titted wide on a temporary mattress and hobbles her with a hogtie. Next he comebacks for lengthy legged Lauren, similarly cinching her ankles to her wrists atop the torn foam floor covering, showcasing her sheer pantyhose soles, filthy from the concrete. Their restrain bondage unforgiving, both bound and ball-gagged gfs are left to struggle in their supah rigorous cord restraints…