Whips and chains for mom

Chapter 8

"Told you I'd be callin' you back, cunt. Now, you gonna be ready for me tonight?"

Joan stood in the darkened hallway, twisting the black coiled plastic phone cord around her fingers while listening to Chuck's husky voice. Her heart was pounding while her pulse raced a mile a minute. Looking nervously into the living room, she wanted to make sure Shari wasn't nearby as she spoke to the stud.

"Don't. Please, don't come back here. I… I never thought you would call," she stammered, feeling a warm, tingly glow starting between her legs. She ground her teeth together, not believing her weakness for this man. He was an animal, a savage who would, destroy her and ‘her family if she weren't careful. And yet and yet she was wanting to see him. Part of her was bending toward him, listening to all his foul language and thrilling to it as he spoke over the phone.

"I don't give a fuck what you want. Now I'm gonna give an address. And you come there, understand? You get your ass over here pronto, or I'm gonna bust down the door and drag you out by your hair," Chuck threatened, his voice cracking into laughter after several moments. "‘N you can guess what the fuck your neighbors are gonna say when they see that."

Joan held the receiver against her right ear, feeling the speaker grow damp against her flesh.

"I can't come now. My daughter's not feeling well and…"

"I don't give a fuck about your daughter. Take her to the fuckin' hospital ‘n get your ass here now. I'm fuckin' horny and I've gotta get off. You're the best thing around for that," he said, laughing softly again into the receiver. "Now move it, bitch, or I'm comin' there to get you, understand?"

Joan was about to protest again. But the clicking sound followed by the dial tone told her he had rung off. Joan stood in the darkness a moment longer, her fingers clutching the phone tightly. Chuck. He wanted her tonight. And at his place. Joan had misgivings about going there. She hardly knew the man. He had been an intruder, a would-be thief who let his animal instincts get in the way of his professional ones. And now he wanted her there at his place to do God only knows what. But then she thought of the alternative-Chuck coming here, kicking down the door, dragging her out of the house in front of her screaming daughter and gawking neighbors.

Joan trembled, closing her eyes and putting the receiver back into the cradle. No, that was impossible to contemplate. She would go to his house in spite of her fears. Besides, that electric tingle up and down her thighs was getting worse with each moment. The thought of Chuck, of his darkly handsome face, of his hard-muscled body rubbing against hers made her pussy start to tighten and itch terribly. It was that swollen, near-liquid feeling she felt between her legs as she walked into the living room that was ruling her now. She wanted to be with Chuck to be his slave, to knuckle under to his orders and then be rewarded by the hardest fuck of her life!

"Was that anyone in particular, Mother?"

Shari lay half-reclined on the couch, idly flipping through a magazine while the television droned on in front of her. She had feigned illness for the past four days, staying home from school while carefully wearing long nightgowns to hide her whip marks.

"Oh, just Mrs. Dennis down the way. She wants me to take her shopping again tomorrow," Joan said, somehow managing to mask her growing nervousness. She would have to leave soon or Chuck would come hunting for her.

"Mother? I was wondering," Shari asked, turning her face up and closing her magazine. The girl felt a need to talk to someone about her ordeal, yet feared telling everything about what had happened to her. "You know, I'm just kinda curious about… well, the things a man and a woman do together."

Joan blushed, reaching out and bracing herself against the back of the sofa. She was on her way to a hellish interlude, and her daughter wanted to talk about sex!

"This-this really isn't the time for it, Shari. I've got to go out for a while," Joan whispered, feeling the nipples of her tits rubbing itchily against her bra. "I'll be back later. If you're up, we'll talk," she concluded, her eyes darting up at the wall clock and seeing ten minutes had already gone by. She could just imagine Chuck at the front door, his meaty fists beating at the window.

"Out?"

"You'll be fine. I shouldn't be long," Joan said breathlessly, patting Shari on the head, then retreating quickly toward the front door. She couldn't stay long. Shari would be asking too many questions, and she might let something slip about her and Chuck.

"But mother, it's late and… "

But Joan was already out of the door, drawing the pink sweater around her narrow shoulders and rushing for the car. Chuck lived three miles away. She could make it there in minutes, satisfying his need to have her at his home immediately.

Back in the house, Shari looked through the curtains, watching her mother back her car hurriedly out of the drive, then screech down the street. What on earth could be the matter with her? That phone call-was it really Mrs. Dennis? Shari pursed her lips thoughtfully, sinking to her knees on the chair and watching the red: tail lights disappear around the corner. Something was wrong. Something was bothering her mother. For a moment, Shari forgot about her own problems and concentrated on her mother's agitated manner lately. Her train of thought was interrupted by the jangling ring of the telephone.

"Mrs. Dennis?" she whispered out loud, brushing back her hair and padding bare-footed across the living room floor to the hall.

"Hey, baby. Glad you were the one to answer the phone," a husky voice said.

"Who is this?"

"Come on, baby. After everything we been through, you don't recognize my voice? Must be the fuckin' phone. It's Doug, Shari. Doug and Frank. And we want you to come on over and give us some more fun. You can leave that girlfriend of yours home. All she does is cry a lot. But you, baby, you move that ass real nice for me."

Shari nearly dropped the receiver to the floor, her knees knocking together wildly. Drawing her nightgown around her throat, the young girl shook her head, leaning heavily against the wall.

"No, I won't. I won't come there. I'm not some… some kind of whore you can call and…

"Come on, baby," Doug said, his voice breaking with laughter. "You liked it. I mean, you really liked it. It was good for you. Now, you're gonna hustle your ass over to 126 Glendora Avenue. My old man's outta town again. Frank and me, we got plenty of shit here for you."

"I don't have a car. I can't…

"Frank's gonna'come and getcha. Tell your old lady somethin'. And it better be good. ‘Cause we're gonna get you over here one way or the other. Frank'll be there in about ten. Get it on, baby, get it on."

"No, stop it, 1 won't be here, I…

The phone went dead. Shari hung up, looking wildly around her. Why had her mother gone? Why had she left her like this to contend with these savages! At, first, Shari thought about bolting, about running from the house to a neighbor's and asking for help.

But then another part of her told her to rush and change. Frank would be there in a few minutes, and she didn't want to keep him waiting. To her surprise, Shari found herself climbing the stairs, wondering what she was going to wear.

Three miles away, Joan had already arrived at Chuck's. He had been right. He had been waiting for her for some time. She could see that in his eyes as she passed him, clutching her black leather purse close to her body. She would try to reason with him. Joan felt she could talk to him, make him stop calling her, stop wanting to see her.

"Knew you'd be on time," Chuck said, pushing his fingers through his thick black hair. "You want this as much as I do, bitch."

"Stop calling me that name!" she cried, wrinkling her face up in anger. "I'm not a-a bitch. I never have been and never will be. I came here," she began, her voice growing calmer as she tried to organize her thoughts. "I came here to ask you to leave me alone. I don't want to see you again. What happened was a-a mistake. Please, try to understand. I've got a daughter to raise and…"

"Man, you should of told me," Chuck said, striking his forehead with the palm of one hand as if hit by a revelation.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You could've brought her here. Man, a mother/daughter act. That'd be real cool. I could fuck the two of you at the same time, then watch the two of you make out in a kinda Lesbo act."

Joan trembled with fury and outrage. How dare he make those kinds of filthy suggestions! She turned around, wanting to march straight out the door. She started, but found Chuck blocking her path. She sighed, lowering her head and biting her lower lip.

"Please, let me go, please."

"After I told you I'm so fuckin' horny I could shit, and you think I'm gonna let you outta here? Baby, you're one heiluva dumb shit if you think that."

"Please…"

"We're goin' downstairs. I got some real nice shit there for you-stuff that's gonna make you feel real hot and good."

"No!"

Joan stood there defiantly, tilting her chin up, staring right at him. Chuck laughed, knocking the purse from her hand with one move while grabbing hold of her right upper arm hard. His fingers made her wince.

"You're goin' with me… now!"

Joan struggled against him, her feet slipping from her sandals as be dragged her through his living room, through the kitchen, up to a large black door, half-opened, next to the stove.

"Cunt!"

Grabbing her hair, he twisted the woman around, shoving her face down into one of the burners of the stove. The top plate rattled from the force of the blow. Joan could smell the gas, could feel the heat against the side of her face from the pilot light. She screamed, her ass dancing up in the air while her hands braced against the surface of the stove. Chuck rubbed her face up a little more, her nose pushing hard against the top grates, dislodging them, finally sending them thunking to the tiled floor.

"Wanna get that pretty face burned off?" he threatened, still pressing one cheek to the top panel covering the dual pilot lights.

"No, no, stop it!"

"Then you're gonna listen to me. Now, down the stairs!"

He jerked Joan off the stove, sending her crashing against the doorway. She pushed the hair from her eyes, rubbing the sore spot on her left cheek that had pressed against the hot portion of the stove. Barely able to shake the daze that bad settled over her earlier, Joan felt his hands again pressing against her shoulders.

"Down!"

He shoved her roughly forward, sending the woman pitching into the darkness.

"Aiyyyeeeeee!"

Losing her footing and balance, Joan pitched headlong into the darkness. She stretched out her arms, screaming while her toes banged against the wooden cellar steps. She felt her hands striking what appeared to be a wooden handrail. Clutching desperately at anything solid, Jean twisted around twice, her ass and hips banging hard against the side wall, then against the handrail. With a loud thud, she crashed down in a contorted position halfway down, her legs twisted under her ass, her right ankle throbbing terribly. Looking up, she could see Chuck silhouetted in the light, still standing at the head of the stairs.

"Have a problem, baby? You didn't strike me as the type to be clumsy."

"You…"

She could have spat at him. Instead, she found herself cowering back as he started coming down the steps toward her.

"No, no, don't touch me. Please, I'll get up," Joan rattled, grabbing hold of the handrail and hauling herself painfully from the steps.

"Aw, you don't wanna hurt yourself, do you? I mean, you're so delicate and all that shit," Chuck said, catching her once more around the shoulders and twisting her around. She gasped, the air leaving her lungs as he slammed her against the wall behind her. How her lower back ached! It felt as if he had broken her spine with the force of that shove. Backing away, still holding onto her upper arms, Chuck turned Joan around and threw her forward into the darkness once again.

"Aiyyeyyeeeeee!"

Joan's knees buckled as she fell forward, her hands flailing wildly at the darkness. Her body stuck the handrail, then the wall then the handrail again. Her dress tore somewhere on the way down, ripping halfway up to her waist while she continued falling through the darkness. Her knees finally struck something very solid. The basement floor. Joan thought they had broken. The pain shot up her legs and into her brain, making the woman gasp and cry out in agony.

"Trouble, baby?"

Joan finally came to rest in a crumpled heap at the foot of the cellar steps. She lay there, sprawled on the floor, her legs twisted around one another, her arms stretched out to either side of her body, while one cheek was pressed against the concrete. She was still falling in her brain. The woman tried pushing herself up from the floor, but fell back, sighing deeply.

"Please, leave me alone. Oh God, don't touch me, please don't touch me!"

"You know that ain't never gonna happen," Chuck said, climbing down the stairs. Joan withdrew into herself, wondering what new horrors he had planned for her.

"Gonna make sure you're my woman. You ain't never gonna be fit for no man after I get through with you."

He had her by the hair again, dragging her like a sack through the basement.

Joan cried out, kicking her feet, trying wildly to ease the pain in her scalp. She was terrified of the darkness, being dragged to her doom as the big man panted heavily, above her. They stopped suddenly, his hands leaving her hair. Joan rubbed the sore spots on her scalp, sobbing quietly as she felt him leaving her for the moment.

A light-dim and yellowish, but a light, nevertheless. She was able to look around her and see what appeared to be a kind of stone slab next to her. There were long black leather straps attached to each end. Chuck was coming back toward her, a gleam in his eyes while he rubbed his hands together anxiously.

"Get up, baby. Get up so I can strip you."

Joan pushed her bands to either side of her body, standing up unsteadily, and remaining as impassive as possible while Chuck pawed her body. But how could she be impassive? The more brutally he treated her, the hotter her cunt was becoming. She felt his fingers roughly unzip her dress, nearly tearing it from her body. She helped him, shrugging off the garment, then bending her arms back and unhitching her bra.

"The panties! Gotta see that hot pussy! Yeah, that hot cuntmeat I remember, baby. Practically burned off my Goddamned cock with that thing before!"

Joan skinned off her briefs, stepping from them carefully. The fall had injured her ‘right ankle slightly. She stood there, arms thrown around her body, shivering in the cold dampness of the cellar.

"My playroom," he said, gesturing around him. "I built this for fun, and the two of, us are gonna-have some fun."

Chuck rubbed his hands over her buttocks, then slapped her asscheeks hard with both hands. Joan winced, the hot stinging sensations sparking into her clit.

"But you're gonna be mine first."

"What?"

"On the slab."

It was a stone slab that had been laid on a heavy workbench. Carefully, Joan slid onto it, her asscheeks breaking out immediately into goosebumps at the touch of the cold smooth stone. Someone had carefully worked on the rock, gouging and smoothing it so the center fitted a woman's body perfectly. It was almost like lying in a bed, except the surface was terribly cold and hard.

"Now, spread your legs. Yeah, just like that."

Chuck was at the foot of the slab, looping the leather straps around her ankles and tightening them, then moving to the head and drawing her right arm out to the side. Another strap was affixed around her wrist, Chuck doing the same thing to her left band. In a moment, Joan was bound to the rock like Prometheus, working her ass against the hard material while feeling her cunt start to juice and fire up

"That's good, real good. Bet you wanna know what's gonna happen next, right?"

He snickered, moving off into the shadows once morel. Joan followed him with her eyes, flinching when she heard the sounds of things rattling hollowly against one another. In a moment she saw him carrying what appeared to be a bowl and stand. There were several more attachments he went back for, the whole assembly looking finally like some sort of obscene charcoal grill.

"We'll get this thing going in a sec. Don't you worry your little head about that," Chuck said mockingly, lifting a heavy sack of coals and dumping them with a clatter into the black bowl. A small cloud of dust rose from the bowl, settling onto her legs. Chuck tossed the half-empty bag to one side, reaching down and pulling out a can of lighter fluid from under the grill-like. assembly.

"Oh!"

With a match, the coals burst into flame, the fires dancing up toward the ceiling, illuminating the basement in a hellish light.

"This is gonna be somethin' you're gonna carry around with you for a long time-right to the grave, I think," Chuck said, disappearing again and leaving Joan twisting in fear.