January 6, 2014

The List 24: Its Head is for Being Stuffed in a Bag

Posted in stories tagged , , , , , , at 10:27 pm by littlesubmissions

Click here to start with Part 1

Previously: He moaned and leaned closer to her, and she bit down on his ear playfully. “I can’t believe I let something as disgusting as you near my cunt. As a matter of fact, I think it’s time your head went into the bag.”

He was lying on the floor on his side, breathing hard. His knees slightly pulled up towards his chest, his arms wrapped tight around his chest.

One black boot pushed him over on his back, and she grinned down at him. “Time for your head to go in the bag boy.” She kicked his legs down straight and squatted down beside him. “I’d hate to make it too easy for you though.” A short length of rope wrapped around his ankles, pulling them together and cinching down tight against his skin. “Now, for your motivation. This should get you moving.”

He groaned as her hand started massaging cream into his balls and along his cock. His eyes clamped shut and he shuddered as he felt the muscle cream start to heat up on his cock and balls.

“Come on, head in the bag.”

He opened his eyes and looked around until he saw her, dangling the empty pillowcase between her hands, the opening towards him. He forced himself to roll over onto his stomach, and shoved himself up onto his hands and knees. His body sank and drool ran from his mouth to the carpet as the heat started to pour into his genitals, and he forced himself to inch towards her.

She stepped back as he moved forward, teasing him with the empty bag. “Get your head in the bag and I’ll try to wash some of that off.” She took another step back as he inched forward. “Of course, it sinks into your skin, so the longer you take the less good that will do.” He shoved himself forward with a groan, and she stepped back with a grin.

He dragged himself through the house, his whole body feeling like a massive bruise. Pain and contusions raced from one muscle to another, trying to get his attention. Little bursts of endorphins floated through his consciousness as his tears started to run down his cheeks from the pain of dragging himself across the floor and the burning in his groin.

She led him through the house, breathing a little harder as he dragged himself across the floor, memorizing the flickers of pain that rushed across his face for later. The clenched teeth as he he pushed forward with his knees, the twitch at the corner of his eye as he walked his hands forward one at a time. The way his arms moved and the muscles warping the skin of his biceps.

His head slumped as he stopped moving. He pushed his thighs together against his cock and balls, trying to do anything to stop the burning. Sounds gurgled in his throat as the heat remained, the sudden pressure doing nothing to stop it. He forced himself not to just fall down, spit on his hands, and frantically rub them on his cock. He knew from past experience that it wouldn’t do any good.

She smiled and let him rest for a minute, then made him clicking sounds with her tongue until he looked up at her through tear stained eyes. She jiggled the pillow case in front of him, then took another step backwards.

He made a sniffing sound, trying to stop the snot running out his nose, and forced himself to put one hand forward, then the other, then pull his knees across the floor towards her. He tried to ignore the pain and focus on the three simple, repetitive motions, and not think of anything else.

She led him through the house, forcing him to drag his body along the floor behind her. They wound through the bedroom, out into the living room, across the pantry and into the garage. She could hear him whimper a little as he crossed the metal door threshold and his palms hit the cold concrete. He dragged himself to the back of the car, and she popped the trunk lid on the car.

“Get in, and I’ll put your head in the bag.”

He pushed himself to his knees, and held onto the bumper as he pulled himself to his feet. He hopped around in an awkward circle and sat back, swinging his legs into the trunk and curling up in the enclosed space.

“Good for you.” She moved his hands behind his back, and cuffed one wrist then the other, chaining his hands behind his body. “You’ve managed to convince me to abduct you.” The pillow case finally went over his head, and he sighed in the enclosing darkness. He could feel the tape securing the bottom of the pillow case to his neck, pulling it down tight and sealing him in the darkness.

The trunk lid slammed close, and she walked around the car to the front. Her purse hit the passenger’s seat with a thump, and she hit the garage door opener as she started the car. They pulled out of the garage, down the drive, and onto the street. She hit play on the CD player and started driving, thinking about what she was going to do next.

Preview: Hair is for being pulled. Pulllllllllllllllled.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

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