Paul Gable - Whips and chains for mom

"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.

"No!"

"This is gonna be your last lover for a long time, baby This and my cock."