
In her right fist Linda grabbed both of daphne's slim wrists at the point they were tied and wrapped her fingers up around the blouse-rope going to the neck. It was ingenious and evil at the same time. Just using the one hand to pull on the rope and wrists, Linda could force Daphne's upper body into any position she wanted by various combinations of neck chokes and shoulder pain. For now she kept her bent over about halfway down to the table; tits, still shiny wet from her earlier licking, hanging down heavily; dull white cloth swelling out of the O formed by her partially closed lips.
With her free left hand Linda began unbuttoning Daphne's jeans.
The whimpering stopped and a new look came over Daphne's face as she struggled to no avail against Linda's invading fingers. It was no use. The blouse harness was working perfectly and the other girl's big tree trunk legs had hers locked tightly below.
The tears started flowing again as Daphne realized the helplessness of her position.
Linda had deftly worked Daphne's fly open and, with one swipe of her huge hand, ripped the jeans down to her knees. Daphne's huge, pantied, jiggly behinds spilled out all over the place. They sprung back up hard, as the jean cloth released them, as if attached to springs at the back of her waist. They ballooned back down again, the bottom ends of the humps actually bulging below her knees on their way down, before springing back up again. They were like those slinky toys I used play with as a kid.
