Nathan Silvers - Whipped, bound mom

"That was Martin," said Dorothy Berenson, puffing the phone down. "We're going to spend the weekend with him again." She looked over at her daughter. "Well?"

"Fine," said Kathy. She swung her long legs off the chair and went out of the room.

Dorothy stared after her. Sometimes she was ready to throw the girl out of the house. Kathy had all the vices of an adolescent, and it was driving Dorothy crazy. Not only had Kathy inherited Dorothy's beauty, with her blonde hair and luscious figure, but she insisted on hanging around with boys no matter what Dorothy did or said. That was one reason Dorothy liked to go to Martin's house on the beach. At least Kathy was away from those boys.

Dorothy sighed and walked over to the window. The girl still wouldn't listen to her about men. Dorothy was lucky, or rather clever. She'd insisted on a marriage and then played her poor innocent husband for all she could get. It hadn't been as much as she would have liked, of course, but it kept her comfortable, and at least one wretched man would be paying for his seduction for a great many years yet.

By the window was a mirror and Dorothy caught a long glimpse of herself in it. She might be thirty-two, but everybody thought she was only in her early twenties. And they were right, she did look wonderful. Her tall, slim figure had tits that stood out from her body with no need of support at all. Dorothy turned to get a better look. From her tiny waist her hips swelled out and led down to a pair of legs that always drew whistles from the construction workers as she went by. Oh yes, men wanted her all right, but they weren't going to get her. Not until there was one good enough. One who could pay the price. Take them for all they were worth, that was Dorothy's motto, and it had done well for her through the years of bringing Kathy up. Men took her out, and Dorothy loved going on dates. She even let some of them back in for coffee and usually they tried to get her into bed. She'd put them right very fast. And they paid for it.

During the ride out to the beach the next day, Dorothy looked frequently at her daughter. That tight blouse and those tiny shorts were bound to inflame the lusts of most men, particularly with a figure like hers. She looked at Kathy and the young girl flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder and stared out of the window.

Dorothy got a slight shock at Martin's beach house. The place was still the same, and Martin greeted them as warmly as always. In the background Dorothy could hear the long slow murmur of the waves. She had to go and take a swim before dinner. No, everything was as always, except that there was a couple there, Josh and Zola Simpson.

Dorothy didn't like extra people. She had a cozy relationship with Martin and she didn't want anybody intruding on it. Not that Josh and Zola didn't look nice. Josh was a few years younger than Martin, probably in his mid thirties. Zola, his wife, was a soft-faced, dark haired woman with brown eyes and a wide, sensual mouth. She dressed rather unsuitably for a married woman, or so Dorothy thought. Her bikini was so skimpy it only covered her nipples and the triangle of her pussy hair. Otherwise she was as good as naked.

But they were pleasant. Dorothy went for her swim and they all had dinner. Martin was a good host and Dorothy learned a bit more about Josh and Zola. Josh was a business partner of Martin's. Dorothy didn't ask what his business was, but there was some exporting involved and Martin had brought Josh in to help with that. They chatted and, as usual, Dorothy refused coffee after dinner.

"I have trouble sleeping," she explained. She had had the trouble for years and it was getting worse, but Dorothy would never admit it. Some nights she would watch the television until dawn and then fall into a fitful slumber. "I really must be going to bed now, or I'll be a wreck in the morning."

Normally the sleeping pills worked after a time, but this night nothing Dorothy did helped her to sleep. She tossed and turned for several hours, only pretending to be asleep when Martin knocked gently on the door and asked if she was all right. When she didn't answer, he opened the door as he always did, made sure she was fine, and went out again.

Even that reassurance didn't work for Dorothy. She took another pill and gave up after another hour. Perhaps if she got herself a small glass of wine it might help. It usually did.

She crept out of her room, not wanting to wake anybody, and tiptoed along to the kitchen. The place was very quiet and she began to wonder if they had all left her. With the wine in her hand she went back into the main room to see if anybody was still there. It was empty, but a faint light came from under the large walkin closet door. Dorothy went across and opened the doors.

The closet was just as always, except for the fact that the back of it was open. It led to a small staircase, leading steeply down. There was a low murmur of voices and Dorothy found her curiosity arouse. Martin had never told her about this secret door!

Holding her breath, Dorothy tiptoed down the stairs. At the bottom was a email chamber and another door standing slightly open. Dorothy peeped around it.

The scene that met her eyes startled her. She gasped and clutched her mouth. She had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real!

It was a large room, nearly as large as the house that stood above it. The walls were rough wood, and the floor was done in soft carpet. There were sofas, chairs, a television, and what looked like exercise apparatus. Over by the far wall was another door and Dorothy could see the white tiles of a bathroom through it.

Lounging in a chair in the middle of the room was Martin. He was wearing only a bathrobe, and he had a very large drink in his hand.

On the sofa were Zola and Josh. He was in the shirt and pants he'd worn for dinner, but Zola was dressed in a sexy playsuit that accentuated the tight curve of her body. It was white, with lace around her swelling tits. Above her pussy, it was cut away to show a pair of tiny white panties that hardly disguised the dark mound of her pussy hair. All down the lacy front of the playsuit were bows that looked as if they would come undone at the slightest pull.

But even that wasn't as bad as what Kathy was wearing. Dorothy's daughter was dressed as a maid, with a tiny little hat, black stockings and a dress that showed most of her tits and ended at her stocking tops. As Dorothy peered in, Kathy was bending down to give Zola her drink and the dress rode up over her ass, exposing a pair of frilly black panties. At the same time the front of the dress fell away far enough to show most of her lovely young tits to Zola and Josh.

That would have been enough, but the other things in the room persuaded Dorothy that she had stepped into a terrible den of depravity. Hanging along one wall were racks of whips of all shapes and sizes. There were masks, handcuffs, dildos, ropes, chains, and some things that Dorothy had never seen before in her life. What was Martin doing in such a place? He couldn't be the owner of all this depraved stuff!

"Well, why the hell do you keep inviting her then?" Zola asked with a laugh.

She grinned up at Kathy and slid her hand up the young girl's legs until it was above the stacking tops. There she caressed Kathy's milky white flesh while the girl gave low murmurs of appreciation and spread her feet for Zola to go wherever she wanted.

"For this one, of course," Martin said. He leaned back and grinned at Zola. "She's worth putting up with that bitch of a mother of hers until she's old enough to get clear and then…"

Zola gave Kathy a playful slap on the ass and sent her off. Kathy went back to the well stocked bar and washed the glasses from the previous round of drinks.