Paul Gable - Mother in bondage

"Mrs. Williams. It's some man. He insists on talking with you," Hilda called out from below.

Something struck Glenda about this call. Something told her that it concerned her stepdaughter Alana.

"I'll take it, Hilda," Glenda shouted. She ran to her phone and picked it up nervously. When she heard Hilda hang up, Glenda started to speak.

"Who is this?" she said breathlessly.

"Mama?" a girl's voice said unevenly over the phone.

"Alana? Alana, where are you? I've been worried sick," Glenda said, choking down the sobs as she sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed with relief. Then she remembered what Hilda said. A man had called. But this was Alana on the line.

"Mama. They're gonna make me do terrible things," the girl wailed. "Please make them stop! Please!"

Then the begging stopped as a deep voice rang out over the receiver.

"We've got her, Mrs. Williams. And you know what we'll do to her if you don't listen," the man said viciously.

"Who is this? What do you want?"

"You wouldn't want the same thing to happen to your daughter that happened to you now would you?" the man asked, chuckling after he'd finished.

"Is Sam Becker in this with you?" Glenda demanded to know.

"Never mind who's in this, Mrs. Williams. What's important is your daughter. Now, we've got her and we're gonna keep her until you pay her way free," the man insisted.

Glenda felt herself freeze with terror as she realized that Alana was being held for ransom. God only knows what they'd do to the girl unless she cooperated.

"What do you want?" the brunette asked in a strangely calm voice. She didn't want to give these bastards any kind of enjoyment from her obvious fear and concern. If money's what they want, they'll get that – and just that.

"Five hundred thousand dollars, Mrs. Williams," the man replied evenly.

"Five hundred thousand…?" Glenda gasped. "I haven't got that kind of money."

The brunette sprang to her feet and nearly dropped the receiver to the floor.

"Come on, Mrs. Williams. Maybe not under your pillow. But you've got more than ten times that in assets. Your daughter's worth at least that much, isn't she?" the man asked.

Before Glenda could say anything, she heard Alana suddenly scream out in pain. The shriek was high and shrill, lasting for what seemed to be an eternity before it died down to a quiet whimper.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Glenda cried wildly into the receiver. She was hunched over and beating her fists on the nightstand next to the bed as Alana's whimpering continued.

"Start liquidating some of those assets, Mrs. Williams. We'll be in touch," the man said, hanging up quietly.

Glenda held the receiver in her right hand for several minutes after the man hung up. Kidnapped! And probably tortured! If Sam were involved in this some way, Glenda had an idea what Alana was going through now. She had to move quickly if she wanted to see her stepdaughter alive again.

Got to call Peter, Glenda said to herself as she pressed down the button and got a dial tone. The brunette nervously punched the buttons and waited for the lawyer to answer his phone.

"Hello?"

"Peter, this is Glenda. Now listen, I don't have all night. Alana's been kidnapped. They've called me and they want five hundred thousand dollars."

"What? My God! We've got to call the police," the lawyer said as he realized what Glenda was saying.

"No police! No police! They'll kill her for sure if we call the police!" Glenda replied hysterically. "You've got to start selling some of my stock now."

"Glenda, I…"

"Listen. You're my lawyer. Now you do what you're told," the brunette said, "or I'll start it myself."

Peter paused at the other end of the line before saying anything.

"All right, Glenda. It's your money. When do they want it?"

"They didn't say. But I've got to have it now, Peter. Please," Glenda pleaded. She had mental mages of Alana being strapped down and raped repeatedly by God only knows who.

"I'll see what I can do," the lawyer said.

He hung up after reassuring Glenda that he'd do everything in his power to help. The big-titted brunette showered hurriedly, ignoring the stings that the water caused as it beat against her violated skin. As she dried off, then slipped into her nightgown, Glenda thought of nothing else except Alana.

Where was she? What were those men doing to her? The questions spun wildly around in Glenda's head as she pulled back the covers of her king-sized bed and slid in between the silk sheets. Images of Sam towering over her with the pain-inflicting riding crop danced in her head as she slowly sank into unconsciousness.

"No! Don't!" Glenda screamed out, covering her face as she sat up quickly in bed.

Sweat soaked through her nightgown as the brunette opened her eyes. It was a dream – a nightmare about last night. The riding crop, the sawhorse cutting into her cunt-flesh, Sam's thick cock battering its way up her shitter, all these things sliced through her mind as she perspired heavily.

Slowly, Glenda realized that the ringing phone had awakened her. Rolling quickly over on her right side, she reached out and jerked the receiver nervously off the phone.

"Mrs. Williams? You got the money?"

"I'm getting it," Glenda said softly. "I want to talk to my daughter."

"We've got her tied up right now. But she's safe. Just as long as you play it our way, she'll be okay," the man said calmly.

"When can I get her back?" Glenda asked with a slight quiver in her voice. She was desperately trying to keep control of herself. But under the pressure from last night, that was almost a losing battle.

"As soon as we get the dough. We want it in two parts. The first two hundred-fifty thousand we want you to deliver it in person. This afternoon at five-thirty at the old Holmes ranch. Bring it in a briefcase, alone, and put it on the kitchen table of the main house. The rest, we'll get your lawyer Thomas to bring."

"That's our way, Mrs. Williams. Take it or leave it. See you tonight," the man said, hanging up quickly.

Glenda had just placed the receiver back on the phone when Hilda knocked at her bedroom door and announced that her lawyer Peter was downstairs. Glenda threw her long, tapered legs over the edge of the bed and glanced at the clock as she slipped out of her nightgown. It was already eleven-thirty in the morning. She prayed that Peter had the cash with him.

The woman dressed hurriedly, slipping a blue jersey over her big tits and stepping into a pair of white, clinging slacks. She ran down to meet Peter.

"Lovely as usual," Peter said, smiling up at Glenda as she ran down the stairs.

Glenda smiled back, nervously waiting for Hilda to walk out of the room. As soon as the mild left, the brunette dropped her casual air and whispered hoarsely to the lawyer.

"Have you got the money?" she asked.

"It wasn't easy," Peter answered, raising his eyebrows and sighing as he put the briefcase down on the cocktail table and opened it. Glenda's eyes widened as she looked at the rows of hundred-dollar bills.

"It's all there?" she asked, reaching down with her right hand and picking up a packet of bills.

"It's all there. When are we supposed to deliver it?" he asked, sitting down on the long, white couch and looking up at her.

Glenda knew that Peter wasn't going to like this. But he had no choice. As she put the bills back in the briefcase and closed it, the brunette explained to him what the kidnappers wanted.

"No deal!" Peter said, shaking his head rapidly back and forth. "You're crazy if you go through with it. It's too dangerous."

"Peter, I've made up my mind. It's the only way I get Alana back. Besides, they won't do anything to me. I've still got the other two hundred fifty thousand back here," Glenda said, knowing that Peter would really object if he knew what had happened to her the night before. Fortunately, the long-sleeved jersey and slacks hid any of the marks that still scarred her body.