Raped whipped mom

CHAPTER TWO

The next morning when Paula opened her eyes, Ray was already gone. She thought about the previous afternoon, how they'd fucked on the bed in the afternoon light, how annoyed she'd been that Ray had deliberately spent time looking at her pussy.

She hated to be looked at like that. It was almost as if he was mocking her.

After he finished dumping his load of jism inside her cunt, she felt miserable. Then at last she went to the bathroom to wash her pussy.

Whenever Ray fucked her, she felt unclean. She sat on the toilet and let his muck run out of her cunthole and into the toilet bowl.

She remembered that now and she shivered with disgust.

It was a bright sunny morning and she had to get up. Ray would not be back for weeks and she had to get used to looking after things herself.

She stretched like a cat and threw the sheet off her body and finally left the bed.

In the bathroom she brushed her teeth and washed her face. Then she slipped into a robe and walked down the stairs to the kitchen to make some coffee.

Emmylou would be sleeping late this first day of her vacation. Paula knew Emmylou had been up late last night watching television.

After she poured her coffee, Paula sat at the kitchen table and idly turned the pages of the morning newspaper. She finished the first cup of coffee and rose up to get the second when the back door of the house suddenly opened and there was a man standing in the kitchen.

"Lord, you frightened me," Paula said, stepping back. "What is it, please? Who are you?"

It was then she saw the gun.

He grinned, waved the gun at her and said, "Sit down, lady. Just sit down and keep quiet."

Paula was sure she would faint, but she didn't. She obeyed his order and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Look," she said, "if you want money, I'll give it to you, but please go."

He chuckled and she didn't like the sound of it. "Who else is in the house?" he said.

"My husband."

"The hell he is, we saw him leave this morning. And it looks like he's going to be gone awhile. That's right, isn't it?"

"He's coming back this afternoon."

"You're lying, lady."

"What do you want?"

"Who else is in the house?"

"Only my daughter. She's upstairs asleep. Please don't hurt us."

Then the back door opened and another man appeared. He was a big man, bigger than the first man.

The big man said, "What's happening, Frankie?"

Frankie continued holding the gun on Paula and said, "Nothing's happening, dummy. I'm trying to find out who else is in the house. She says only her daughter. Go upstairs and see if there's a girl asleep up there and bring her down here." Then Frankie looked at Paula and said, "If there's anyone else in the house except your daughter, lady, I'll blow your fucking head off. Get the picture?"

"Yes."

"You better get it."

"Please, leave my daughter alone," Paula said. "She's only a little girl."

"You hear that, Vic? We got a little pussycat. Go upstairs and bring her down. And make sure she doesn't scratch your eyes out."

Frankie and Vic laughed at each other, and Vic left the kitchen.

"Come over here," Frankie said to Paula. "Stand over here in front of me and turn around."

She trembled as she rose and moved toward him. Three feet away from him, she turned her back to him the way he'd asked her to.

She felt him move close to her and then a moment later she felt the gun in her back.

"Don't move," he said.

Paula gasped when she felt his hand on her ass. He squeezed her asscheeks through her thin robe and then his hand moved around in front to wander over her tits.

"Please, don't," she whimpered.

"Shut up. What's the matter, nobody ever feel your tits before? You got a nice pair. Nice ass too. Don't move or I blow a hole in your back." She stood there motionless while he fondled her tits. She wanted to cry, but somehow the tears wouldn't come.

His hand slipped inside her robe and he brutally pinched her nipples.

He hefted her tits with his hand, first one tit and then the other, then at last he pulled his hand away and told her to sit down again.

"You don't talk unless I tell you to," he said. "Just keep your mouth shut."

Dear God, what do they want? she thought. Was it money? She tried to remember how much money she had in the house. Whatever it was, it wasn't much. They never kept much cash around. They might pull out some jewelry and appliances, but it wouldn't amount to much.

Whatever it was they wanted, she prayed they would take it and leave.

She was afraid. There was a wild gleam in the eyes of this one, the one called Frankie.

The other one, Vic, reminded her of an ox. He might be more dangerous than Frankie.

If only Ray had been due to leave tomorrow instead of today, none of this would have happened.

It was awful how they'd guessed Ray would be gone awhile. They must have seen him loading the trunk of his car with his luggage.

Now her skin crawled as she remembered the clammy feel of Frankie's hand on her tits, the way he'd pinched her nipples, the way he'd bounced her tits on his fingers to test their weight.

They're animals, she thought. Emmylou and I have suddenly become the prisoners of two animals.

Then she heard shuffling feet and a moment later Emmylou came into the kitchen followed by Vic.

Emmylou's hands were tied behind her back. She looked pale and frightened. When she saw Paula, she started crying.

"Well, look at that," Frankie chuckled. "We got a crying little pussycat. Stop it, honey. I don't like tears. Stop the fucking tears or you'll get hurt."

Emmylou stopped crying and sat down on a chair next to Paula. "My wrists hurt," the girl sniffled.

Frankie rolled his eyes. "Go on, Vic, untie her hands and tie her to the chair. Make sure you tie her up good. I don't want her running around."

After Vic finished tying Emmylou to the chair, Frankie told him to do the same to Paula.

When mother and daughter were securely bound, Frankie patted Emmylou's cheek and said, "Later, we'll have a party, honey. You like parties?"

Paula groaned. "What do you mean by that? You leave her alone!"

Frankie's hand lashed out against Paula's face. "Listen, bitch, I told you to shut up. I told you to talk when I tell you to talk. Are you deaf or something?"

Paula wailed, "I don't want you to do anything to her! I'll do whatever you want, but don't do anything to her."

Frankie snickered and looked at Emmylou. "Are you cherry, honey?"

Emmylou closed her eyes. "Yes."

"You hear that, Vic? We got ourselves a cherry pussy. I told you this house was a good idea. Didn't I tell you that?"

"You sure did, Frankie?"

Frankie laughed. "One cherry pussy and one pussy not so cherry but still looking good. You like to see something? Look at the tits on the mother."

Paula cried out as Frankie suddenly pulled her robe off her shoulders to expose her heaving tits.

Vic looked and grinned.

Frankie cupped one of Paula's big tits in his hand and lifted it to point the fat nipple at Vic. "Look at this," Frankie said. "I been dreaming about tits like these for six years – six fucking years in the pen and now look at what's here."

"Me, too," Vic said.

My God, they've been in prison, Paula thought. A fresh wave of terror went through her. There was no telling what these men might do to them after six years in captivity.

Then, Frankie dropped Paula's tit. He looked at her and chuckled. Raising the gun, he put the point of the barrel at her lips and told her to open her mouth.

Paula moaned softly, her blood cold with fear as she opened her mouth.

He slid the cold steel of the barrel inside her mouth, moved it in and out until the barrel was wet with her saliva.

"It's like she's sucking a cock, Vic. Look at it. Look at the way she sucks."

Vic giggled.

When Paula made a move to twist her mouth away from the gun, Frankie warned her, "Stay still and listen, lady. You want that pussycat to stay cherry awhile you do exactly what we want. Otherwise I put this piece right up her ass and see how far it goes. You understand? Just nod your pretty head."

Paula nodded.

"Good girl," Frankie said.

When he pulled the gun out of her mouth, Paula said, "Please don't hurt my daughter. I'll do anything you want."

"You're damn right you will. Untie her, Vic. Just get her off the chair. Leave her hands tied and tie her mouth so she can't scream. I hate cunts who scream."

When Vic released Paula from the chair and she rose to her feet with her hands still tied, Frankie smiled and said, "I don't think you need that robe, doll. Help her, get it off, Vic."

Vic had to untie her hands to get the robe off, but finally it was done, her hands retied as she stood there naked in the center of the kitchen.

Frankie laughed when he saw her embarrassment.

"What's the matter, nobody ever looked at you before? Your daughter? What's your name, kid?"

"Emmylou."

"And what's your mother's name?"

"Paula."

"Nice name. Nice tits and nice ass and nice everything. Look at this, Vic, it's like we hit gold. I told you, didn't I!"

"You sure did, Frankie."

Frankie walked around behind Paula. He pushed the barrel of the gun against her asscrack and used it to pull one asscheek to the side to expose her asshole.

Paula thought she would die right then. She closed her eyes and trembled.

"Nice little backdoor," Frankie chuckled. Then he turned to Emmylou. "Tell me, Emmylou, you ever seen your mother naked before?"

Emmylou whimpered as she lied. "No."

"Look at what you been missing. You got a beautiful mother, you know that? Mind the kid, Vic, I'm taking the mommy here for a little walk, okay?"

"Sure, Frankie."

"Don't do nothing to the kid, not yet. You get the mother next. Cherry pussy is nice, but what we got here is prime cunt and this one we try out first."

Paula wanted to cry out that he'd promised her he wouldn't do anything to Emmylou, but she was already gagged and the only sound she could make was a muffled gurgle.

One hand holding her ass, Frankie giggled crazily as he led Paula out of the room.