Daughter and mother in bondage

CHAPTER FIVE

"Nooooo!" Christine gasped.

It was hard to fight Brad, difficult to push him away when part of her wanted him so desperately. When he pulled her from the kitchen to the basement door, Christine struggled, thinking at one time that she could simply jerk her knee up, catch him in the crotch, then wheel about and run for safety.

But none of that happened. When she could have escaped, she simply twisted in his arms, feeling the excitement rising more and more in her mind and body.

"Down here!"

Brad took her by the shoulders, shoving her past him and down the first two steps.

Christine hesitated only for a moment, realizing there could be no going back. Brad blocked the stairway with both hands, his thick-muscled body cutting off the daylight streaming in from the kitchen. Turning, she began descending the stairs, trailing one hand along the wooden banister, smelling the damp, dank air of the cellar.

When she reached bottom, Christine stopped, one hand to her chest, the other still lingering on the banister. Behind her was Brad. Just before reaching the basement, Christine heard the door close and lock above her. Trapped! The thought shot through her mind as she stood there in the semi-darkness.

Brad brushed past her for the moment, stretching one arm up and clicking on a small yellow lights.

Christine blinked, narrowing her eyes, as Brad approached her.

"You came over for a little action, huh? I saw it in your eyes, man, a little action," he breathed, holding her by the upper arms once more.

Christine let out a whimpering gasp, her forehead wrinkling as she felt his fingers bruising her sensitive flesh.

"No, not at all," she began, tilting her chin back defiantly. "I just came over to see your mother, pay a neighborly call, and if you don't let me go right now, I'll have to tell her."

Brad's lips curled into a smile, his hold on her arms tightening.

"You didn't come over for no cup of sugar, baby. You wanted prick, and that's what you're gonna get – after a while."

His words seared her brain. Christine tried pulling back, but Brad was too strong.

"My brother and me built something for somebody else," he said, his smile indicating some sort of secret. "But now, well hell, it don't matter who the fuck gets into it."

"What are you talking about?" Christine said, still trying to keep her voice even while terror leaped in her veins. Her sandaled feet slipped on the concrete floor while her eyes darted about, searching for some escape route and finding none.

"Over here."

Brad pulled her, twisting his head around every now and then.

Christine was losing her courage fast. They moved from beneath the yellow circle of light toward one wall. Christine could make out something, a large frame – like object standing just in front of her. Brad turned away from her for a moment to check out the contraption.

"Wh-what is this?"

"Somethin' you're gonna like. It's meant to make you listen to me… me and my brother, that is, in case you got any kind of funny ideas about gettin' away 'til we're through with you."

This was mad, insane! He was talking like a lunatic.

"I don't know what your game is, but I've had enough of this!" she snapped, yanking free of his loose hold, then wheeling about and heading for the stairs. Perhaps with enough bravado Christine felt she could pull off her escape.

She was wrong. Brad grabbed her again, jerking her back, snarling at her.

"You ain't gonna leave this basement 'til I'm good and ready to let you. My brother's gonna be home in a sec. 'Til he gets here, we're gonna have us a good hot time."

"No, oh no!"

Christine twisted in his arms once more, this time with a growing conviction that the Rudd brothers were really going to hurt her.

"Damned cunt!" Suddenly Brad let her go.

Christine fell back, one leg tangling up in the other. As she stumbled, her arms stretched out for balance, Brad advanced, striking her hard across the face with the back of his hand. "Uhhh… ooohhhh!" she moaned.

The stunning blow had its effect. Christine jerked, her arms flailing in the air. She fell, sliding on her side, her chin striking the cracked concrete.

"Come on."

Christine felt Brad helping her off the floor, hauling her up like a sack. He was draping her over one arm, dragging her to that wooden device. Now, she could make out the thing much better. It was a sturdy wood frame raised up from the floor by another larger wooden frame. Two large iron rods were attached that enabled the inner frame to rotate. It reminded Christine of the vanity mirror on her dresser.

Tied to the corners of the upper boards of the inner frame were thin leather thongs.

The sandals slipped from her feet as Brad shoved her forward, barking at her to stand up. It was almost impossible for her to straighten her body. The force of that horrible blow had knocked the wind from her. She could still feel the slap across her face while her head pounded and throbbed from her violent fall.

"Come on, don't be such a fuckin' cry baby! Come on, up we go!"

The fog was clearing from Christine's mind quickly. She looked up at the frame, her lower lip trembling while tears began to burn in her eyes. This was some horrible device of torture. She could see that now. Now she realized the Rudd brothers were sadists, men who enjoy inflicting pain on others.

Brad sensed her hesitation and pushed her forward hard, his hand nearly punching her between her jutting shoulderblades.

"Ohhh!" Christine gasped.

"You listen to me good, baby. You cooperate and you won't get hurt… much. You fuck around and I'm gonna clean up this fuckin' basement with you."

Christine stopped, staring at him and realizing Brad wasn't joking. She nodded in fearful agreement, fearing what would happen next.

There was some sort of locking device, preventing the inner frame from rotating as Christine carefully stood on a narrow board, turning around and facing Brad. It was so strange! She felt like a picture, framed by the heavy wood on either side of her. He moved around the device, checking the wood, shaking it at times and nearly knocking her from the floorboard.

Satisfied, Brad bent down and told her ta spread her legs. Christine did as she was told, tightening her fingers around the sideboards as Brad began tying thongs around her ankles.

"Oh God, God," she whispered, closing her eyes and feeling the thin leather strips being fastened to her ankles, keeping her feet tied firmly to the floorboard.

"Now for your arms."

"What?"

"Come on, stretch 'em up 'til your fingers touch the top… to either side, just like your legs." Christine felt so vulnerable as she held her arms high over her head.

Brad stood in a chair, tying double figure eights around her wrists. In a few moments she was helpless, her arms and legs spread, wrists and ankles tied securely.

"Now for a little fun. You ever see somethin' like that before?" Brad asked, stepping off the chair and moving around to the front. "It's a little machine invented sometime back in the fifteen century in England. They used to use it to get info outta some prisoners. My brother Ed and I saw it in a picture book once and we thought we could have a little fun with it." Brad paused, putting one hand on the frame. "I didn't think about you for it… but what the hell."

Christine sucked in a nervous breath and held it, tensing her arms and legs as she felt her body moving down and around. Her head was moving toward the floor while her feet were coming up. She felt the weight of her twisting body increase on her ankles and wrists as she quickly became parallel to the floor. Around her, Christine heard the wood creaking from the movement.

"Yeah, yeah, just like I figured it'd work," Brad commented.

"Oh nooooo…"

He stopped the movement. The leather thongs were tightening around her wrists and ankles, cutting off the circulation to her toes and fingers, making them chill from the lack of blood.

Again and again Christine begged Brad to let her go. She would say nothing if only he would let her out of this horrible contraption. Christine twisted her head around, staring tearfully up at him, her hair hanging down toward the floor.

"No way, baby, no way."

He was enjoying this, loving her discomfort. The inner frame made another turn. The wood creaked and her head edged closer to the floor.

Christine could feel her tits rolling up in her halter toward her chin while the blood rushed to her head. At least the tension in the leather thongs eased on her ankles and wrists. Now she found herself supporting her body on the palms of her hands as her feet pointed right at the beamed ceiling.

"What are you going to do?" she gasped, her hair fanned out under her on the floor.

"Just what you think," he answered cryptically.

There was a delicious air of anticipation, of suspended excitement as Christine shifted her weight, feeling her ass rubbing against the center wood beam that ran up and down the full length of the inner frame for support. It was a strangely delightful sensation to feel those tiny splinters scratching against her asscheeks. Christine wondered about that sensation, wondered why it was making her pussy itch and throb again when by rights she should only feel disgust and fear at what was about to happen.

"Uhhhhhh…" she groaned.

But deep in the core of her belly she felt the familiar tightening of sexual excitement, felt the hot tension building in her cunt while her nipples itched and stiffened teasingly.

Now more than ever she wished Brad would tear off her halter and short shorts to see how swollen and hot her pussy was. It was so terrible how this device was turning her into a rutting, perverted whore. But there was nothing Christine could do about it. The feeling was there, overpowering her, overwhelming even her natural feeling of fear and disgust at what the savage young man was doing to her!

"Gettin' hot… real hot?"

Her pussy itched while her cuntlips were steadily swelling, the frothy, rubbery edges rubbing together! Christine closed her eyes and fought with herself as she tightened her crotch in a wild attempt to put out the awful raging fire of lust. But all she did with that movement was increase the desire.

"Want something hard down there, baby? Want something good, and hot and, hard shovin' into your cunt?" Brad asked, a hard mocking tone in his voice.

"No, no, you're sick… you don't know what you're doing!"

Christine did her best to keep up appearances. But the raging lust pulsing through her cunt was winning out fast.

Brad reached forward, opening the front of her shorts, then pulling down the side zipper. Christine twisted helplessly around, feeling him tugging those shorts up, up to her knees until he had completely exposed her panties.

"Uhhhhh, yeah, nice hot pussy… you got it comin' outta you good… nice juice," he said, bending forward and pushing his face into her panty crotch.

"Ohhhhhh!" Christine winced, feeling the pressure of his nose against her pussy mound. He was smelling her, smelling her like some kind of dog. She felt the subtle rub of the silken crotch panel against her cuntlips, felt Brad pushing his nose up into her pussy and rubbing the panty material against the slick folds and hollows of her cunt. It had been so long, so very long, since a man had done that to her! Christine felt a wave of lust sweep over her, tingling every nerve ending in her aroused body. She pulled and twisted at the leather bonds restraining her.

"Man, you got it comin' outta you like you gotta have dick… you gotta have it, your whole family, right?"

Her brain couldn't comprehend the words. The only thing that could ease her distress and satisfy her pent-up lust was a prick! That's why she had come over here. If Christine could have admitted it freely to herself, she would have realized a situation like this was inevitable.

"Get them tits free."

He was bending down, squatting next to her head while untying her halter. In a moment her halter top was gone, her tits having rolled up and slapping against her chin.

"Ohhh, no…"

He was stripping her, taking off her clothes slowly, taunting her with comments about her body.

"You're like a teeny-bopper, baby. Nice, nice skin, nice tits, nice cunt, nice everything. You're gonna be one hell of a fuck when I get through with you."

Christine moaned again when she felt his warm fingers slipping under the elastic leg band of her panties. She felt the material pulling away from her pussy, felt it rubbing over her clit as he yanked upward. There was a tearing sound.

"No!"

In two swift moves both her shorts and panties were gone, torn from her body!

Christine pulled at the ropes again.

"You can hardly wait, eh, baby? You gotta have somethin' in you now? You gotta wait."

There was the sound of leather scraping against the rough material of his Levi's. Christine turned around as she watched Brad sliding his black leather belt out from the loops, holding the buckled end in his hand.

"No, oh no!"

Christine jerked and tugged her body violently, feeling the leather thongs cutting into her wrists and ankles. If there were some way she could break free! But the restraints were too strong. She hung there helplessly, her ass pressing against the wood.

"Okay, baby, now we warm you up."

The frame moved again, her head dipping a little lower until it was nearly touching the ground!

"Uhhhhhh!"

Christine's head seemed to fill with concrete, her heart beating faster while a dull buzzing sound filled her eats. The thongs around her ankles hurt. Her buttocks tensed as she wondered where the first blow would land.

"Good white skin," Brad muttered.

Oh God! Christine flinched, feeling the cool leather trailing along her legs. She felt the belt sliding down past her knees, edging past her hipbones, then touching her lower back. She curled her fingers into two fists, the palms still pressed against the overhead board to support her body.

"Nice, nice body."

Christine felt her muscles starting to spasm as she waited breathlessly for the first bone crushing blow to come.