Paul Gable: Mother and daughter in bondage

"No, no, my daughter; my daughter's coming home soon and… and she can't find us like this," Janice said more evenly, running her fingers through her hair while looking up imploringly at Hank.

The big stud paused for a second, his eyes narrowing, while a sly smile crept over his sensuous lips. He laughed, spreading his fingers over his crotch and drawing them through the matted hairs.

"Your daughter, huh? That little piece of ass I've seen jiggling around in her bikini? Yeah, nice ass, nice set of tits," he breathed, watching Janice's look of repulsion with amusement.

"Don't… don't talk about my daughter like that," she snapped, a look of anger replacing the one of heat.

"I'll talk about that little slut anyway I like that's the way I'm used to doin' it, baby, and you'd better get to know that!"

"No!"

Sharon watched with mounting fear as her mother began to slide off the bed. She had just slipped both legs over the side and was about to get up when Hank Harrington raised his right arm over his head, bringing down the back of his hand against her mother's left cheek. There was a loud smacking sound. The young teen watched in disbelief as her mother's head snapped violently to one side, her long blonde hair splashing out in all directions while her body slumped back to the bed. Mr. Harrington turned his hand around and examined his knuckles to see if there was any damage to them.

"Ohhhhhhh…"

Janice lay flat on the bed, her head twisted to one side on the pillow behind her while stray strands of her blonde hair covered her injured face. She drew one hand slowly over the large red mark his knuckles had made on her cheek, rubbing it while stifling the sobs rising in her throat.

"You… you animal," she whispered between her clenched teeth, cringing back from him when he raised his right hand a second time.

"You can call me anything you want, bitch," he growled back, a nasty smile on his handsome face. "I've been called a lot worse by better 'n you. But remember, you're the one who asked for more, right? You've been the one waggin' that ass of yours around the neighborhood, tryin' to pick me up. You wanted that prick up your cunt, right?" he sneered, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Oh, God, God, but I never… never thought it would end like this," Janice sobbed, covering her flushed face with both hands and sobbing freely.

Hank let her cry for a minute as he jerked his fingers back and forth over his blood swollen prick. Then he snorted, shaking his head like an impatient stallion ready to mount his mare.

"Sure, you never thought it'd end like this," he said, mocking her. "You been wantin' it to go this way, but you ain't had the guts to admit it!"

"That's not true!" Janice shot back.

"Shaddup!"

Sharon let out another cry, about to get up and run for the police when Hank slapped her mother a second time. But something kept her glued to the window, her fingers still chipping at the loose paint of the frame as that big man tormented her mother.

"Nooooo!"

He kept slapping Janice, his fingers snapping over the woman's chin, then reversing his blows so that his knuckles slammed against her cheeks, making her body roll from side to side, her tits jiggling like mounds of pudding. The frantic woman tried to protect herself, jerking her hands up to cover her face while those ham like hands flailed away at her. Finally exhausted, she rolled onto her belly, pushing her hands into the pillow and screaming for him to stop. Hank paused, sweat streaking his face, his chest heaving mightily as he sucked in lungfuls of air.

"Damn it, bitch! You're makin' me fuckin' hot with all your Goddamned yellin'!"

Sharon watched with a growing tingle in her cunt! Oh, oh, it was getting worse. What on earth was happening to her? It was just like when she was in bed, that awful electric tingle beginning along her inner thighs then radiating up to her pussy and asshole. Oh, but that was when she was playing with herself, doing all those things her mother had told her were bad. But this… this was different. She was watching some man beating her mother, shouting at her, telling her all sorts of awful, perverted things about herself while having forced her to suck his prick!

"Stop it… just stop it and go away from here," Janice heard her mother cry in muffled tones.

"Ain't no way, baby. Ain't no way I'm gonna leave you here with that hot cunt. You been hot for me all this time and, shit, you practically cried the last time I stuck it in you," Hank said, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand.

"No, that's not true!" Janice cried, turning her tear-stained face and staring angrily at the big man behind her.

"Yeah, sure, you practically pissed on the bed when I fucked you. Your old man have to put up with that? No wonder he kicked over. Couldn't keep up with you," Hank said, laughing cruelly in her face.

Janice's face paled, her forehead wrinkling up while she rolled back on her ass and began pummeling her neighbor with her fists.

"He was a good man, a good man," she cried hysterically, her screams bouncing off the bedroom wall.

"Yeah, good for nothin'," Hank countered, keeping his head well away from the screaming woman while he grabbed both her wrists.

"Ohhhh, you're… hurting me," Janice wailed, twisting around, to her side while her face became red and pinched with pain. Hank was twisting her wrists around so much that Sharon could almost hear the tiny bones cracking from the force.

"Not as much as I'd like."

With that, he let her go, backhanding her once more to knock her back on the bed. "Uhhhhhh."

Janice lay, semi-conscious, stretched out on the mattress, one leg folded over the other while her arms reached to either side of her, crucifixion style. She breathed evenly as Hank slipped off the bed, then began rummaging through the dresser. Sharon watched with curiosity as her mother's underthings erupted from under his searching fingers.

"This ought ta keep you quiet while I fuck the shit outta you."

Sharon saw him holding a pair of pantyhose and a silk belt from her father's old bathrobe. She trembled, feeling another electric shock ripple through her thighs. The heavy swing of his cock reminded her of a tree limb in the wind. And his balls! The whole set looked like it should be hanging from between the hindquarters of a horse or donkey, not from between a man's legs!

"Wh… what are you doing?"

Janice's voice was soft, broken as she pushed strands of her blonde hair from her eyes and looked up from the bed.

"You'll find out."

As Hank bent over her with the silk belt, Janice watched the big man's balls swing out, heavy with cum. His balls were all wrinkly and pressed up against his groin with excitement while he was tying up her mother.

"Ohhhh… you don't know what you're doing to me! Oh, God, God," Janice sobbed, her head rolling from side to side, strands of her hair sticking to the damp corners of her mouth.

"I know just what I'm doin', bitch. You're hotter 'n a Goddamned stove. And this is gonna warm you up some more."

Sharon watched with fascination. She had never head of people doing this kind of thing before. Oh, there was all that nonsense in the movies, stories about women being tied up in chains and ropes and all that kind of silly stuff. But they never seemed to enjoy it. But her mother… well, those sobs and cries were turning into something else. Sharon wasn't sure, but she could hear a change in the tone of her mother's voice. The pain and fear were still there. But there was something else, something that had been there all the time, something that had kept the excited teen from rushing out into the streets and shouting for the police.

"Uhhhhhh…"

"Get your hands over here and put 'em together, slut."