Paul Gable - S&M mother

"Oh, that's way too tight!" Marie Higgenbottom squirmed on the small single bed, her naked ass flattening against the mattress as she felt the quarter-inch rope digging into her wrists.

It felt rather good, deliciously good, as Brad Beddingfield finished looping the line through the small brass ring in the wall six inches above her head.

Gently biting her lower lip, the thirty-nine-year old woman rolled her eyes around and looked at the walls in his playroom. That's what Brad called it when she had first entered. She smiled feeling her body tingle and glow for the first time in such a long while! This was so daring, so unusual. And yet how altogether right it had seemed.

Her eyes dropped down and took in the hard packed cock rubbing up against the webbed cup of his jockstrap. A man. A hard cock. All this, and it was for her! It was like a dream come true.

Marie grimaced as he pulled the rope a bit more tightly.

"Please… my fingers are getting cold." Brad was quiet, his hairy chest rising and falling faster while a sheen of perspiration made his hard-muscled body gleam under the single overhead bare light.

Tentatively Marie tugged at the ropes, feeling the muscles stretch while her knuckles rested against the cold brass rings overhead. Her heart was beating so quickly she thought it would surely tear through her ribs! The knots were holding well as the big man scooted down to her ankles and grabbed her feet. She felt her cunt swelling, tingling with a nearly forgotten heat while tiny hot, electric flashes sparked up and down her ridged thighs. Her pussy was so warm and wet.

Marie sucked in a deep breath, holding it until her head felt light and buzzy as he slowly raised her legs, inching them slowly apart until the woman could feel the warm, sticky crack of her pussyhole peel back and reveal her dark-red pussymeat. She was hot, so hot, and she knew Brad could see that.

His eyes narrowed with excitement. "You like this, don't you, bitch? You want it so Goddamned bad you're creamin' your cunt."

"Oh, don't talk like that!"

But Marie loved everything he was doing to her. And now he rested her left ankle on his shoulder while he pushed her right leg back until her toes were brushing against her bound wrist.

Brad was ready for her. Brad had always been ready for any woman who played the games he did – or so he'd told her at their first meeting in the coffee shop last Saturday.

He picked up the rope from the wooden end table and slipped it around her ankles, twisting it around and around, finally threading it through the line binding her wrist to the brass ring. He tied the rope tightly, securing it with a double figure-eight before directing his attention to her other leg.

Marie liked that, loved the feeling of being trussed up that way, her ass rolled back while her cunt-crack spread out even farther. Juice trickled maddeningly through her blonde cuntal hairs, greasing down her pussylips while her asshole winked open and shut with fluttering movements. She could feel him roping her other leg to her left wrist, carefully binding it to the ring and making sure her thighs were spread widely apart. Marie felt the weight of her body resting on her shoulders as she lay there helpless, her nipples growing so very stiff and long. Her fingers were becoming a little numb and cold.

"Mmmffffff!"

Marie's eyes widened like saucers, her heart standing still as she felt something big pushed into her mouth. This wasn't in the plan. He had never said anything about gagging her! And yet he was pushing something awful into her mouth, shoving it in. She raised her head slightly, swallowing hard and making a face. It tasted like rubber. He had pushed a rubber ball into her mouth, and now he was securing it with a small leather strip he'd buckled to her skull.

Marie grunted, shaking her head from left to right while glaring up at him. This was supposed to be a fun bondage trip. It was wicked but nice. Again she grunted through the gag, feeling a little fear rising in her as the foul-tasting spit gurgled down her throat.

"Now I won't have to listen to any screaming – except what comes through the gag."

Marie stopped moving, falling back while looking at the big man towering over her. Suddenly it was no longer a game. Her pulse raced wildly.

Brad slipped off the bed, sliding his fingers under the tight elastic band of his jockstrap and pushing it down. She saw his prick – a long, thick donkey-sized cock with a huge purple cockhead. His balls were fat, filled with cum.

Marie felt her muscles relax a bit. She knew that she would scream when she felt that cock pushing into her pussy. It had been so long since someone had fucked her. At least five years had passed since her late husband Doug had passed away. And with the raising of her daughter Cindy, there was so little time to do something with a man. Even a casual date seemed awkward, out of the question, while her daughter was growing up.

Brad tuned, opening the wooden doors of a built-in cabinet at the other side of the small basement room. It was then she saw something that made her blood run cold. There were frightening-looking instruments hanging from pegs. Whips, riding crops, rings, bridles, things that belonged in a dungeon.

Brad paused, his hands on his hips, his fingers clenched into threatening fists as he eyed a riding crop and pulled it from a peg.

Marie shivered, her fingers working against her palms. The ropes were really staffing to hurt now, chafing her flesh while her muscles cramped from that rolled-up position he'd tied her in.

Brad closed one of the cabinet doors, turning and tapping the black leather thongs against his free hand. He was studying her, his eyes gazing at her exposed pussy, her raised legs, her hot little asshole. Brad enjoyed watching the fear rise in her, enjoyed watching the gradual realization dawning on the woman that she was going to be whipped within an inch of her life!

Marie bit down on the ball-gag, feeling the achey pressure in her jaws as he walked toward her, his prick swinging back and forth like a heavy tree limb in the wind. He moved to the fight, still tapping that awful-looking thing rhythmically against one palm.

Suddenly he cocked his arm, the thongs crackling in the air. The leather came down against her shoulder, biting into her flesh.

Marie gagged as the sharp pain seemed to wrench her guts inside out. Her eyes opened wide while hot tears began to well up behind them. The panic showed in her face now as she struggled against the ropes binding her to the bed.

Brad stood back. His cock seemed to vow smother inch.

"That's the best you've looked for a long lime, I'll bet," Brad said sarcastically, running the tip of the cold leather crop over her naked ass.

Marie shivered at the touch, her flesh puckering up around her asshole while her cunt muscles spasmed and cramped. He was teasing her, letting the black leather drape over her ass, the knotted tips of the leather straps barely brushing against her pussy.

Marie bit down on the ball-gag again, her face a mask of terrible concentration while her forehead creased. She writhed once more, feeling the sweaty sheet gathering up against her asscheeks. She tried to move her ass back, but it was so hard to move. And that awful stinging in her shoulders from the last blow seemed to go on forever!

The ropes were starting to cut into her flesh, the rough hemp feeling like tiny knives slicing into her skin. She looked pleadingly at the big man.

A trickle of awful-tasting spit oozed down her throat, gagging her. Coughing and gurgling, Marie twisted her head to one side to prevent herself from drowning in her own saliva.

Brad smiled. "That's it, that's it, baby, move around. I like it when I see 'em move around."