Whips and chains for mom

Chapter 1

"Lick that fuckin' boot, bitch!"

Joan Finney drew back, her slender fingers clutching at the top sheet of her bed. She stared at the large man in front of her. Her worst fears had been realized! While at home alone, she had been surprised by this man, an intruder who had rousted her from sleep. He was standing there at the foot of the bed now, one booted leg on the coverlet. He was pointing to his foot, a leer on his darkly handsome face. Joan shook her head, her long blonde hair washing across her face as she stared with disbelief at the big stud.

"Wh-wbat?"

"You hard of hearin', lady? I said get the fuck outta bed and lick them boots!"

He was leering at her, his gray eyes staring at her full tits ballooning out around the lace bodice of her dressing gown.

Aware of this, Joan pulled the covers up a little higher, cringing down on the bed, her ass tensing while a strange tingle rushed up and down her thighs. She looked at the phone, wondering how she could get to it and call the police.

The big man followed her eyes with his, stretching one hand out and tearing the phone from the nightstand. Joan let out a sharp cry, tightening her fingers around the silken edges of the coverlet. He was tearing the cord from the wall, the sound of the wires ripping loud in the small bedroom. The next moment she felt the sheets slipping from her grasp as he tore them off the bed.

"Damn!" he said, admiring Joan's long, lithe body. "OP Chuck ain't seen somethin' this nice in a long time." He scratched his bearded chin thoughtfully.

"Don't… hurt me," Joan stammered, her fingers fluttering around her tits. She felt the air making her nipples stand on end, spires poking up against the soft white material of her gown.

"Man, you got nice tits. And you're gettin' hot for me too, huh? I can see them nips gettin' real hard and stiff already."

"No, that's not true!"

"But you're gonna have to come down and lick ‘em, baby. You're gonna pay for my cock. I don't fuck a cunt for nothin', you know."

"Get out of here! Get out!" she cried, her eyes widening as Chuck rubbed his crotch with one hand.

His face darkened. Moving forward, he grabbed her hard around the neck, jerking her head forward until her lips cracked against his belt. Joan drew up both hands, pressing her palms flat against his thighs and pushing back. She struggled on the bed, her legs writhing against the top sheet while her feet kicked at the blanket. Chuck's fingers were bruising her flesh as he held her tight against him.

"Don't like to hear no one talkin' down at me, you hear?"

Moving his hand up, the big man grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging it so hard Joan found her head tilting back. She groaned through clenched teeth, her nostrils flaring as she looked up through tear-blurred eyes at the big man. She could feel some of the roots tearing from her scalp as the tension around her hair increased.

"Now, you gonna lick them boots?"

"No! Get out… out of here!" she panted defiantly.

Chuck laughed cruelly, tearing out more hair, then dropping one hand to his side. Jerking her around the bed a little more, Chuck let go of her hair, throwing the woman down onto the bed Joan struggled back, scooting her ass away until she felt her spine pressing against the headboard. She slid her hands behind her, her fingers clutching at the crushed white pillows while Chuck advanced.

"No!"

Joan raised one band protectively to her face. She saw him moving. an arm up, his fingers curled. He was about to hit her. She cringed against the headboard, her eyes dropping to his crotch. A hard-on. He was getting excited, aroused from just, doing this to her. His breathing was growing heavy, labored, nearly as heavy, as her own. His eyes glittered, reminding Joan of the look of a wolf cornering his prey. She trembled, her flesh alive to the slightest touch as he grinned hellishly at her.

"Please…"

Her voice was hardly a whisper now as she flattened herself against the headboard. Then his band came down in a broad sweeping arc. She could hear it as she closed her eyes and braced herself for the slap.

"Ugh!"

There was a hot, sharp, stinging sensation on her left cheek followed by a tremendous force that sent her crashing to the mattress. Her head snapped to one side as she fell. Pushing her hands forward, Joan tried crawling away from the big man.

"Come on, baby it ain't all that bad," Chuck said, hearing the woman's terrified sobs as she tried to cover herself.

Chuck reached forward, his fingers grabbing the soft white cotton material of her gown and pulling her back toward him. Joan moaned in terror, her fingers clutching at the top sheet, her feet kicking back. In a moment, she felt his hands grabbing hers, forcing her around, pulling her from the bed. Joan let out another cry, feeling her ass slipping over the corner of the mattress, her legs buckling under her. In a moment, she was kneeling in front of Chuck, her gown nearly pulled from her shoulders. Shame facedly, the woman pulled her garment back over her tits while Chuck laughed at her modesty.

"Now, I'm back back to what I told you before. Lick them boots baby. I wanna see that tongue flickin' in ‘n' out."

Joan drew one hand to her throat, feeling herself about to retch as she looked down at the black boots.

"No! Please, you can take anything you want in. the house," she stammered, looking up at him. "You can take anything and I promise I won't call the police until tomorrow. Just don't don't make me do this!" she begged, staring tearfully up at Chuck.

"It's a good offer, but not good enough," Chuck said, putting one hand down against her neck and forcing her head down. "I thought you might be some old lady or somethin' when I broke in. But man, you're a foxy chick. And I'm gonna have some fun with you ‘fore I get outta here with the stuff."

Joan struggled up against his hand. It was a futile struggled. Chuck pushed, forcing her head down, down until her lips were within an inch of the black shiny leather. Joan licked her lips, swallowing hard, resigning herself to doing what the big man told her. She felt the smooth leather pressing against her lips. He was holding her with both bands now, moving her skull from side to side, forcing her mouth first over the buckles, then down to the toe of the boot.

"Get that fuckin' tongue out, bitch! Come on and lick it clean!"

Joan braced her hands on either side of Chuck's right boot, her head forced down while her spine arched up into the air. Her tits hung sexily from her chest, the thirty-six-inch tit globes rocking in her gown. She flicked out her tongue and started licking Chuck's boot as instructed. Joan slid her tongue over the leather, thanking God it was relatively clean. She spat at the filthy saliva, then began licking it all over again, smoothing it in broad circular strokes until the entire top of the big man's boot shone with her spit.

"That's it, bitch. That's the way. You're gonna clean a man's boot with that fuckin' tongue of yours," he growled, rubbing his crotch while watching her lick his boot again and again.

Joan coughed and gagged, feeling the blood rushing to her head as she gathered the top of her gown around her tits. She thought she could feel it slipping from her shoulders again. She licked her tongue around his boot once more, cleaning it, feeling the bile rising in her throat until she began shaking with the force of her dry heaves. Chuck reached down, puffing her up by the hair and dragging her back to the bed.

"Don't dig that, eh, baby? You don't like lickin' a man's boot?" He sneered at a picture of her late husband on the dresser. "What're you married to, some kinda pansy?"

"He wasn't a pansy," Joan shot back, "and he's dead."

Chuck threw back his head and laughed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat.

"Then you need cock and need it bad. That's what I'm here for now, baby. I'm gonna have some good hot cuntmeat for a midnight snack."

"Get away from me!" she cried, twisting her head against his clenching hands. "Get away. You've had your fun, now get out!"

"No way, baby, no way!"

Chuck slapped her again, backhanding her a second time so hard his knuckles nearly broke her jaw. Joan flew back against the mattress, the room spinning. Her head snapped back, striking the edge of the bed a second time as Chuck cracked his right hand hard against her cheek. He was bundling her back on the bed, throwing her onto the mattress, then grappling with her gown.

She heard the material tearing from around her thighs and tits, but she was too weak, too terrified to do anything about it. He was stripping her of the nightgown, ripping it from her, body with broad, pulling movements. She whimpered, Chuck's alcoholic heath nauseating her as he quickly ripped the remnants of her gown from her body.

"Fan-fuckin' ‘tastic!" Chuck whistled, staring at Joan's naked body.

He bent down, smoothing his fingers over her thighs. She flinched at his touch, drawing her hands to her throat while trying to hug her elbows in protectively over her tits. Chuck knocked them away, staring down at the hard red nipples. The woman shivered, unsure if her tremors were because of the cold or the man's hard hot stare at her body.

"Gonna fuck your brains out, you know that? When I get through with you, you won't be able to piss for a fuckin' week!"

Joan lay there, her legs slightly parted at the thighs, her cuntal curls standing up provocatively over her swelling cuntal mound. Chuck drew his fingers down over her tight smooth thighs until Joan felt him brushing the back of his band over her pussyhairs. She closed her eyes, biting down hard on her pouty lower lip. She shouldn't be feeling this! Oh no, she shouldn't be feeling the hot, tingling sensation that was making her cunt feel so warm and wet and swarmy down there. The tightness was becoming delicious, a pulsing achy itch that was making her breathing more and more labored.

Joan couldn't look at the big man as he kept brushing his fingers over her cunt. He would see just how excited she was. He would know that one part of her wanted what he was threatening to do to fuck her. Fuck her as hard as he could! She trembled at the thought of a man screwing her. It had been nearly three years since anyone had touched her. And this evening that dry spell would end, and end violently, for Chuck was moving his hand over her pussy now,

squeezing her labes, chuckling softly as a small trickle of warm thick cuntjuice oozed from her pussy slit.

"Yeah, you don't wanna get fucked," he said derisively, watching as the clear liquid seeped from her pussy and wet down his fingers. "Man, you're so fuckin' hot, you're bustin' out with pussy juice. That's real nice.?"

He stroked, her clit, making Joan arch her back slightly and push her shoulders into the pillow. Again, she kept her eyes from him. But as hard as she tried, the woman couldn't hide the lust making her body squirm on the mattress. When she began rolling her hips from side to side, the stud curled his fingers, pushing the callused tips hard against her swollen cuntal mound. Joan groaned, her lips parting while she rubbed the backs of her legs against the mattress.

"Iiiiiiieeeeeec!"

The hot, gentle stroking sensation was suddenly replaced by a tearing, ripping sensation. He had grabbed a fistful of her pussyhairs and had jerked up, pulling a clump of the blonde curls from her curd mound. Joan jerked up from the bed, her hands slapping violently at the big man. It was as if he had-set her pussy on fire!

"What's the matter, baby? You don't look like you're havin' any fun!"

He threw lid back on the bed, twisting her around until she was lying on her belly. When Joan tried to push herself off the bed, he jerked her back down, instructing her to stay there quietly and not move or he'd kill her.

"Now, gotta get you down so you won't be no trouble to me, understand? I ain't gonna fuck you 'til I'm right sure you ain't gonna try nothin' crazy like try to get away or shout for help."

"I won't! I swear I won't!" she cried, her eyes wide with terror.

"Liar!"

What was he doing? Turning her head around cautiously, Joan saw him unbuckling his belt, pulling it through his pantloops until it hung loose from one hand. He was tapping the leather lightly against the slick boots Joan had just polished with her tongue. Doubling it, he began snapping the halves together with gun-like pops until the woman felt her flesh break into goosebumps. Against the wall to her right, she saw his silhouette-big, menacing.

Moving her lips in silent prayer, Joan wondered what on earth she had done to deserve this kind of sadistic horror. She felt so terribly, awfully exposed, so shamed in front of him. And now he was going to beat her with that two inch-wide black leather belt! The image of it filled her mind, burned into her brain as Chuck snapped the belt again. He was cocking one arm up now, the doubled belt dangling from his fingers like some sort of noose. And then-and then…

"Eaghhghghhhhhhh!"

The belt came down with a sharp crack between her asscheeks. It was as if he had branded her there with a hot iron! Joan screamed again, her body jerking and twitching on the bed. She shot one hand out for support, the fingers tearing at the white top sheet.

"Now you're gonna learn what it's like to fuck around with a real man. Don't know what the fuck your old man did to you," be snorted, "but it's a long time since you been needin' it."

Another blow, this one between her jutting shoulder blades. Joan twisted her head around, biting and chewing on the pillow as she choked down a scream. The belt sizzled through the air a third time, this blow slicing across the welt of the first on her ass.

"Eaghghghghhghhhhh!"

"Gonna fuckin' get the cops here with all that fuckin' screamin'! Lay there and shut up!"

Joan hurt too much and was too frightened to disobey him. She had her fingertips pressed against her lips while her face was stained with the tears flowing freely from her eyes. She waited as she heard the big man rummaging in the room behind her. He was pulling out drawers, spilling out the contents, swearing to himself. She heard something crashing and breaking on the floor as he yanked out more drawers. Then he was back at the bed, reaching around, shoving something into her mouth.

"Here. Chew on somethin' that's gonna keep you shut up while I beat up your fuckin' ass!"

It was a pair of her late husband's jockey shorts! He was jerking them into her mouth, then securing them by wrapping one of her nylon stockings around her head and knotting it in back. Joan felt her saliva quickly soak down the cotton material as he rolled her back onto her belly. She felt the bed angling down, sagging as he stepped onto it and began cracking the belt once more around her ears.

"Now, that's the way I dig it-nice moans and a hot ass stickin' up there in the air for me."

Joan squirmed and whimpered as she waited for, the next blow. It came quickly, the leather sizzling through the shadows and cracking dry goosefleshed asscheeks. Down it came again, reddening her ass, making her body twitch and writhe.

Joan let out agonized gasps, feeling the leather burning her ass. He kept hitting her asscbeeks again and again, the smooth leather turning her rounded cheeks red quickly. What was making Joan pant even harder than the pain was the steadily increasing sensation burning around the base of her clit.

It was odd, completely new to the woman, but each time Chuck smacked the belt against her ass, she felt a shower of sparks explode from her clit. Never, never before – had she felt anything like that in her life! Pain and pleasure were opposites, two feelings that had little to, do with one another-or so she thought.

"Unnfnnfnfnffffff!"

But now as Chuck concentrated the belt on the narrow crack between her asscheeks, Joan had other thoughts. She chewed the jockey shorts jammed into her mouth, squirming up against the mattress and feeling her nipples rub sexily against the smooth top sheet material. Chuck was panting heavily behind her, resting his thick-muscled arm for the moment while she moaned into the gagging jockey shorts.

"Man, that's an ass that can take a whole lotta beatin'. Man, I could whip that sucker ‘til it bleeds!"

Joan rolled her thighs, clenching and un clenching her asscheeks as if inviting him to do more. Was she? What was happening to her? Joan didn't know and couldn't imagine as she waited for yet more to come.