"Yeah, yeah…" Uncle Jim sighed, letting Cori go and rubbing his prick across her cumsmeared lips.
"Get up. We're gonna call your momma up later and make her think that the best gift she can give her brother-in-law would be those mining certificates."
Cori huddled into a tight fetal ball, shuddering, feeling her cunt clenching as she thought of the whip and all the pain it would bring if her mission should fail.
CHAPTER TWO
It was terribly wicked of her to do these kinds of things, Rhonda Foster knew. But she couldn't stop herself once things had been set in motion. Lying there in her own bed, feeling the rough hemp rubbing painfully against her wrists, the attractive woman couldn't help but work her ass from side to side. Rhonda felt her cuntlips slipping against one another as the heat increased between her legs. The man kneeling to her right was looping the rope around in a figure eight, cinching it tightly around her flesh until she winced in pain. "Oh, I think it's too tight," Rhonda said.
He looked down at her silently, his face dark with concentration. "I'm… sorry," she murmured.
She knew she shouldn't have spoken. Those were the rules of their club. Complete submission when playing their little games. Rhonda had only belonged to BISMAR for two months, hiding the meetings from her daughter. This was the first time she had actually let one of the members come to her home and do something to her. All the talk during their meetings about dominance and submission had made her more and more curious about doing something about those feelings stirring deep inside her. That was why when she had taken Cori to the farm, she'd returned to Los Angeles trembling and anxious. Jack Beddingfield was there at her doorstep waiting for her, his handsome face threatening and yet at the same time appealing…
"Uh!"
He rolled her onto her right side, tightening the knot a little more, then drawing her hands down until they were pressed against the small of her back. She heard him digging around in the black leather bag he had brought up with him from the first floor. Staring at the wall, she felt the mattress sinking behind her as he put something over her face for a moment. She felt him shoving it between her lips now, a rubber ball pushing into her mouth. When Rhonda tried to protest, she felt a knee in her back, the pressure making her open her mouth.
"Oh!"
The ball slipped in, fixed to her skull with two leather straps. Rhonda panicked. Perhaps the game had already gone too far. All the fine talk about S amp;M and the beauty of pain and discipline was starting to fade from her mind. There was the harsh reality of being bound, of having her arms pulled tightly behind her while this horrid thing was crammed into her mouth. She tried pushing it out with her tongue, gasping and jerking while tugging at the rope around her wrist. Nothing.
Kicking her legs around, Rhonda managed to roll back on her ass, shaking loose hair from her face. She was looking up at Jack, moaning and gasping behind her gag.
Downstairs the phone was ringing, but Jack ignored it.
He slipped one hand down to her wrists, pulling her from the bed. She cried out, digging her teeth into the rubber ball as a terrible shooting ache exploded in her shoulders.
Tumbling head over foot, the young woman crashed onto the floor, her ankles striking the bureau.
Things had definitely gone too far. Trying to struggle to her feet, Rhonda felt completely disoriented. The ringing phone seemed to be coming from inside her skull. She drew her feet under her ass, pressing her spine against the wall in an attempt to raise herself.
Jack was on her in a second, shoving her body back to the floor, then grabbing her foot and wedging it between his thigh and belly. He had something in his other hand, a long metal bar with cuffs on either end. Leg irons! She screamed through the gag, pushing back with her legs. This was crazy! Insane! She never should have joined that silly club to begin with!
Rhonda felt her bare ass frictioning against the blue carpeting while she tried wriggling away from her tormentor. Impossible! Jack held her more firmly than ever, swinging the bar around until the top of the cuff clamped hard over her ankle. In another moment, Rhonda felt the iron restraint snap shut, trapping one leg firmly in its grasp. "Mmmfmfmmfmffffff!"
Her eyes rounded while dots of perspiration broke out on her wrinkled forehead. She felt her belly churn as Jack grabbed her other leg and held it firmly, clamping the iron cuff around that ankle. It was done. Rhonda winced, feeling the tight rusty iron bands biting into her flesh while the metal rod kept her legs fourteen inches apart.
Muttering with satisfaction, Jack pulled Rhonda to her feet, keeping her bent over at the waist. She was in no condition to fight him, she thought to herself, her blonde hair curtaining her flushed face. He was going to do more to her. He was going to rape her right here in the bedroom. Fine. He would soon grow tired of her and untie her. This would be the last she would have anything to do with this crazy club!
"Ughhhfffff!"
He was slipping something around her throat, something smooth and tight. A collar! She felt him buckling it behind her neck, then threading a length of rope through a small hook in the front to the center of the metal bar at her ankles. Pulling it taut, Jack made certain Rhonda would remain bent over, her ass high in the air as he cinched the line tightly around the iron rod.
"Yeah, that's it," he whispered, smoothing one hand over her spine. She cringed, feeling his hands slip over her exposed asscheeks. No man since her husband had touched her back there. She flushed beet red, her heart exploding with horror and excitement as Jack's fingers slid over her pussy, then tickled her asshole.
"Yaghhghhghhfffff!"
He slapped her hard, his open-palmed hand nearly knocking her head-first down onto the floor. She staggered about, the iron bar keeping her from moving too well. The cuffs were slicing into her ankles now as she tried to balance and steady herself.
"Nice ass, real nice…"
Another slap, this one across her ass. Rhonda felt hot tears welling up in her eyes while her nostrils flared with her indignation. Blinking her eyes, the woman felt the stinging hot warmth spreading outward from her ass to her belly and cunt. Jack was fingering her again, dipping his forefinger into her pussy.
Moving around, the big man started working both hands over her asscheeks, pinching them, kneading them while rubbing his hot cock-bulge over her ass. She squealed into the rubber gag, biting into the disgusting ball until she thought she would vomit with horror. He slapped her again, beating her ass with his fingers, then slipping them back into her pussy until she felt her cunt muscles clamping with arousal.
"C'mon. Let's go for a walk," Jack said.
It was humiliating, not to mention nearly impossible to move in this position. Carefully, Rhonda waddled forward, one step at a time, her toes brushing over the carpeting as she waddled past the bureau toward the opened door. Her tits pressed against her upper thighs while her wrists and upper arms ached terribly! It was all she could do to keep from sobbing out loud as she moved through the doorway and out into the cooler hall. Her long hair swept over the tops of her feet as she continued to push one foot in front of the other, the iron bands rubbing her ankles raw by this time.
"That's it, right to the stairs."
She stopped. No, she wasn't going to set herself up for that one. All sorts of strange images flashed through her mind now, none of them particularly pleasant, as Jack kicked her hard in the ass. She grunted, pitching forward, banging her head against the wall. Still, Rhonda refused to budge.