Alison looks good in chains

I know exactly where I keep the chain I want to use. It is a ten-foot length of heavy-gage nickel-plated utility chain that I bought one time when I wanted to secure my son's bikes. There had been a rash of break-ins in the neighborhood where bikes and tools had been taken from sheds like mine, and I figured if the bikes, wheelbarrow and compressor were all chained together it might save me some trouble in the long run. Turned out that they caught the culprits a few weeks later but kept the chain anyways along with the padlock just in case. I remember at the time wondering if Fran would let me tie her up with it, but it slipped my mind, and I hadn't given the neat coils of chain much thought until Alison asked about it.

In her room I find Alison wearing an old, stained tee-shirt that has seen better days. The faded green shirt is at least three sizes too big for her slender frame and it hangs halfway down her thighs.

“Still want to do this?” I ask, and in response Alison lifts her hands and puts her wrists together in an unspoken invitation. I am not as interested in efficiency as in her feeling the weight of the chains, so I wrap four loops around her wrists before encircling her torso several times pinning her upper arms tightly to her sides. I have just enough of chain left to wrap around her neck like a makeshift collar and I see Alison shudder when I snap the lock shut to fasten that collar. A length of about four feet still dangles from her wrists and I tie that to the frame of the bed.

The old tee-shirt has the name and logo of a garage on it, and I wonder if this is one of her daddy's old work shirts. Somehow that makes this even hotter, like I'm taking something that doesn't belong to me. She looks good, but she'd look even better naked. Alison's eyes widen when she sees me pull out my old camp knife. It is a scary-looking blade that I bought at a ren-faire one year with the forge marks still visible on the six-inch blade and a deer antler handle.

“What are you going to do to me, Mister?” She wiggles experimentally in her chains causing the links to 'clink' a little, but other than that not have much effect. “My family doesn't have a lot of money...”

“Well, first I'm going to get a better look at what I've got here.” To be honest, a pair of sharp scissors would be a better tool for cutting away the old tee-shirt, but the heavy blade is plenty sharp enough to do the job. By the time I finish pulling away the last bit of soft cotton from under the chains both Alison and I are pretty excited.

“Please, don't do this.” Her doe eyes lift to meet mine, “No man's ever seen me, not like this.”

“Not even your boyfriend?” By now my hands are skimming along her soft flesh pausing momentarily to pinch her small pink nipples into hard buds.

“Daddy says I'm still too young to date.” If I were this girl's father, I might keep her locked up too. I wonder how many of the young men in her hometown were dying to get into this sweetheart's tight little jeans.

“That's too bad, Angel.” I continue to explore her curves, reaching down between her legs and cupping her sex. “I was looking forward to pounding this pretty little pussy.” She might be squirming and protesting, but I can feel the juices running down her inner thighs.

“You're not going to **** me?” The words come out in a needy whisper.

“No Baby, your cherry is worth way too much for me to fuck you.” I feel Alison shudder in my arms, and I warn her that I'm not done with her yet. “I can still think of a few things I can try without ruining that prize.”

“Oh God! What are you going to do to me?”