Read Online Tombstone by Candace Smith - Free Book Online

when she felt the man lean her over the table.   Please god, yes.   The time spent blindfolded into darkness with only Donald’s echoing words to accompany this madness, had caused her to desperately desire the man’s infrequent touches.   Claudine could practically feel his cock driving into her, and her pussy was dripping and ready.
    Instead, the man slid cool gel into her ass, and she froze.   This was something Claudine had never allowed, and she wiggled her bottom angrily.   When a finger brushed her clit she pushed into it, rubbing and exciting herself while the forgotten finger plunged into her ass.   With her senses dulled for so long, any touch on uncovered skin seemed magnified.   Claudine was sexually peaked constantly, begging for the man to touch her.
    There was a stretching, impossibly wide against her puckered hole, and Claudine concentrated on her pussy’s search for the finger and the nerve tingling sensation against her clit.   She rubbed against the elusive hand, frustrated and searching while his cock slid into her tight hole.   Oh…oh, it hurts.   She wailed her dissatisfaction through her ring gag and shimmied her hips, trying to encourage him to leave her sore rectum and use her pussy.   In and out, in and out… and she was finally rewarded when his hand stayed still, allowing her to rub and press.   Her own motion of her hips caused the cock in her ass to glide in and out, until she gasped and pushed into the warm body behind her, and cream drenched the shiny latex on her thighs.
    Claudine had spent weeks in darkness, smelling only the rubber and hearing only the static of Strickland’s incessant droning and white noise.   Her feet no longer felt the texture of the different floors when she paced, and she missed the sensation.   Losing feeling in her hands was the worst, she decided.   Although she could move her arms a little, she could not differentiate between the soft padding of her bed and the rough stone of the bathroom wall.   Only when the man touched her… Tombstone, she remembered… could she feel anything but the rubber encasing her.
    Added to that, it felt as though her muscles were freezing.   Every morning when she was lifted out of her bed, which was much less terrifying now that she was sealed in a mobile tomb, the movement in her limbs seemed to become more restricted.   By the end of the week she could barely move, and her legs stiff-walked her to the bathroom.   The man had to push her down onto the toilet and then straighten her again.   It was the same for kneeling to eat.   It seemed to Claudine she did not have the strength to bend her body.
    It was hard to concentrate with the speakers constantly diverting her attention, but Claudine finally realized the man must know that her muscles were atrophying, because he knew he had to help her bend.   It was still a while before she understood that it was not her body freezing.   It was the unusual compound making up the rubber suit… curing.
    Finally, the woman could not move at all, other than the stiff legged walking, and she froze in whatever position Tombstone arranged her.   He constantly changed her positions, checking for wear or strain on the outfit, and staring for hours to see if she shifted.   Tombstone brought her in front of a mirror and he spread her ankles and bent her knees slightly, making sure that she was balanced with her hips thrust forward.
    He lowered her arms and took each gloved hand, arranging her fingers so that she spread her pussy open.   His hand rubbed across her clit.   It seemed to be constantly red and swollen, as if any senses left to her were contained in the little bead of pleasure.   He watched her cream flow, her pussy begin to squeeze, and panting gasps came from her gaping mouth.
    Claudine moaned, ignoring that it was her hands spreading herself wide.   She could feel her rubber gloves on her labia, but her fingertips sensed nothing.   Her bottom clenched