Paul Gable - Mom in a harness

"I'd gag that fuckin' stupid bitch-mouth of yours, but I wanna hear you scream, baby. I wanna hear you yellin' your fuckin' head off. And nobody's gonna hear outside. Soundproofed," Jack said, rapping one cinder, blocked wall with his knuckles.

"What's going to happen?"

Monica eyed the two strands of heavy link chain on either side of her body and had an idea even before Jack began linking one of them to her wrist-cuffs. She heard the sound of a clamp being opened then snapped shut around the links.

"This side's to pull down on, baby," Jack said, gripping the length of chain and rattling it. "Right above you, I've got a pulley, nice, heavy-duty one I picked up down near the train yard in Pomona. Got this idea from readin' one of them mags at the Book Circus a couple of days ago. Thought you'd dig it."

Jack pulled down on the chain. Almost immediately, Monica felt the chain opposite her tugging up at her bound wrists. Her arms moved back, back, both of them now parallel to the floor. Monica was starting to feel an uncomfortable tension in her upper muscles and shoulders. She bent forward slightly at the waist, spreading her legs apart to ease that pressure.

"Ohhh, don't do it… please, you'll snap my arms off!" she wailed.

Jack pulled a little more, the chain rattling over the eyehook, sending shudders through the naked woman's body. Monica groaned, her arms pulling up behind her a little more, her body bending forward. Her long blonde hair curtained her face once again as the chain rattled overhead.

"A fuckin' piece of meat. That's all you and your fuckin' daughter are, meat."

Monica's heart stopped.

"Arlette! Oh, no, you… you animal, you… touched her?" Monica gasped, her eyes wide with horror.

"What do you think?" Jack sneered, yanking the chain hard at least a foot. Monica screamed a scream of the damned as her arms snapped backward at least a foot. The ordeal had begun once more.

"Ooohoohohohhhh!" Monica groaned. Her arms were all the way back and up now. Monica's body trembled with pain. Snapping and popping sounds vibrated through her shoulders. The woman screamed again and again, her mind flashing between thoughts of her daughter being violated by Jack, and thoughts of her own plight. The pain was awful, perhaps the worse she had had to endure under his reign. Jack kept pulling up, telling her awful stories about how hot Arlette had been, how she had cried when he'd finally stuck his prick into her after having beaten and bound her much as he had done to Monica.

"Yaggghghhhh!" the blonde screamed. Another pull, another foot, and Monica found her body swaying an inch off the floor. Curling her toes, she couldn't touch the concrete. He had hauled her up all the way, her muscles twisting and straining, the nerve endings parting from the pressure of her body pulling down. The frantic woman twisted to the left and right, her wrists popping, her shoulders threatening to tear loose from her arms. And all the while, those awful chains rattled, clattering from the jerky movements her body made.

"Nothin' but a fuckin' hunk of meat. And you shouldda seen the way she was jumpin' and jerkin' around when I stuck my prick into her," Jack sneered, attaching his end of the chain links to an eyehook in one of the basement pillars. "Man, she couldn't keep down… just like you, baby, she just kept movin' around and around, beggin' me for more."

He was almost pressing his face against hers, sneering at her, watching with unholy glee as his awful words destroyed her pride.

"Oh, no, no, not Arlette… oh, God," Monica groaned, feeling her life collapsing into a pile of ruin all about her.

"Maybe you two can take turns – you know, alternate days or something – or maybe both of you come here, you know? Yeahhhh, that'd be even better," Jack said, running his fingers through his hair.

"Stop it! You animal! Oh, God, God, you'll pay for this!" Monica screamed, feeling the circulation being cut from her wrists.

"You gonna do somethin' to me, baby? Like that?"

Jack pushed her body backward, letting it go and laughing as she swayed from front to back. That movement made the crushing weight against her wrists even worse. Her arms felt as if they were going to pull free from her body, and another bone-shattering shock of agony raced up and down her spine. Monica's face alternately blanched and turned red, her fingers clawing wildly at the cuffs and her toes curling until they cramped. This was awful, the worst it had been. And Jack was getting more and more excited!

"You gonna call the cops on me or somethin'? That wouldn't be real smart." Jack moved his fingers up and down her shivering thighs, smoothing the backs of them over her flesh, then turning them around suddenly and sliding them through her thick cunt bush. Monica trembled. In spite of the killing agony of the chains pulling her body up over the floor, she gasped at the sensations his fingers could draw from her cunt. His hands were rubbing over her swollen cuntlips, the knuckles barely brushing over her clit. Monica threw her head back in utter abandon, feeling shamed at her own lust, embarrassed at her weakness. No, she couldn't fight him, couldn't fight the raging feelings in her that were controlling her. The pain, the bondage, the sneers, even the knowledge that this horrible man had done things to her own daughter added to the excitement coursing through her veins now. Sucking in a ragged breath, Monica felt her body grow strangely light as more pulling pain shot through her arms. Yes, he could do to her anything he wanted. The more he hurt her, the more she loved it! She had finally come around completely to Jack's twisted way of sexual thinking!

"Uhhhhhhh…" she moaned.

Reaching around, the big stud grabbed a handful of her cunt hair, yanking back, pulling and tugging until he tore it from her pussy. The fires of a thousand hells raced through the woman's cunt as she snapped her head from side to side. The chains rattled as her body swayed, tears springing to her eyes. She tried folding one leg over the other to protect herself. But Jack simply knocked them apart, slapping her thighs hard, then grabbing her knees and swinging Monica back more than before. As her body swung forward and stopped, the woman thought surely her shoulder sockets would crack under the pressure.

"Yaggghghhhhh!"

Monica kept screaming, her body swinging less and less until it finally came to rest. She sagged in her bonds, her head bent down, her hair nearly covering her tits. Jack stared at her, then walked over to that metal cabinet to the right.

"Oh, please, let me go… please…"

"Why? I ain't fucked you yet, baby. And that's the whole end to this… fuckin'. But this is just the foreplay. There's lots more to go."

"Oh, no, noooooo!"

Twisting her wrists in the cuffs, Monica felt her shoulders popping once more. Her flesh alternately chilled and burned. What a horror, what a terrible horror he was forcing her to endure. And now he was coming back with something in his hand. What on earth was it? Shaking the hair from her eyes, Monica strained her vision, focusing in on what appeared to be small, brightly colored cylinders grasped in his fingers.

"I've got something here that's gonna warm you up… something that'll take you by surprise, baby, because I don't think you ever thought anybody could do something like this."

Firecrackers! He had firecrackers in his hand!

"No, no!" she screamed.

Jack smiled more broadly at her cries, the corners of his mouth twisting up, fine wrinkles lining his face. His eyes almost sparkled as he took one green and white cylinder, twisting it around and around between his fingers, then stretching out his arm and holding it up to Monica's face. The woman sniffed. Gunpowder! Yes, she could smell it! The aroma was overpowering! Monica snapped her head back, her long hair brushing over her shoulders as she begged Jack yet once again to stop this madness before he killed her. "Why should I kill you, bitch? You're too much fun. But this is gonna be real good… real nice havin' you blown up at both ends." With that, the big man walked around to a position behind Monica, bending down and grasping her asscheeks with both hands. "Your daughter's got a nice ass… not as big and round like yours, but real nice… kinda pink and pretty," Jack taunted, hearing the woman crying out in indignation at the remark.