Paul Gable - Mother in bondage

"You and your daughter – two cold, rich bitches," Sam muttered, sliding the long leather rod now into the tight crevice that ran between Glenda's full, firm asscheeks. "Well, old Sam's gonna pull you down from that fuckin' pedestal, baby. And you're gonna love every fuckin' second of it."

Before Glenda could say anything, she heard something hiss through the air. Suddenly she saw the riding crop sailing down toward her left shoulder.

"Uhghhhhhh!" the brunette cried out as the pointed tip of the crop bit into her tender skin.

Hot tears of shame and pain sprang to the woman's eyes as she felt another hot flash of agony across her lower back. There wasn't any kind of rhythm to the beating Sam was giving her now. He slashed the crop across her spine, then sent it whistling down and smacking over Glenda's trembling shoulderblades.

"Stop it! Noooo!" the brunette howled, jerking and twisting in her bonds as the crop slashed over and over across her flesh.

Glenda couldn't believe this was actually happening. It was impossible! It was medieval! Only a few minutes ago she was locked in the safety of her home. And now this!

"P-please! NO! Owwwwwww! Oh, God, Help m-meeee!" Glenda cried out each time the riding crop knifed into her. But her begging seemed to drive Sam into a hotter fury. He grunted and laughed, sweating with the work of beating the groaning brunette.

"Bitch! Bitch!" Sam grunted each time he hit her with the riding crop.

Glenda grimaced in pain as her body twisted and bucked convulsively. The sharp wooden ridge of the sawhorse grew more and more painful as the lashing seemed to increase both in speed and in intensity. Finally Sam brought down the crop with an angry thwacking sound across her back. The brunette jerked her head up and let out a thin, high-pitched shriek. Her eyes bulged with agony as the scream diminished to a low, growing moan.

"You're one hell of a woman," Sam said, chuckling as he looked at the red welts that sprang up all over Glenda's sweaty body.

Her skin gleamed. Glenda almost mumbled a thank-you to Sam for stopping the brutal beating for a while. She felt faint with agony.

"You bastard!" Glenda finally said, turning around and spitting into his face.

Sam wiped the glob of spittle from his eye, then he grabbed a handful of hair with his right hand. Yanking upward, he pulled to the left until her face was tilted up.

"Slut!" he cried out, lifting the crop up as high as he could raise it. Sam then brought it down hard, slashing the tip of the crop across Glenda's right tit. She babbled out a cry of strangled pain as her body shuddered from the sudden attack.

"You'll never get away with this," Glenda moaned, dropping her head to the crossbar of the sawhorse after Sam let go of her hair and backed away. "When I get free, I swear I'll hunt you up no matter where you hide!"

"Then I might as well get as much pleasure out of this as I can," Sam said, arching his eyebrows and walking up to the bound brunette again.

Glenda cringed as she saw him lift the riding crop high in the air again. He brought it down hard and fast across Glenda's right asscheek. The woman bit her lower lip hard, trying to stifle a groan. She stared at the bare wooden wall just in front of her, concentrating on a broken slat, as she tried to ignore the agonizing pain that ripped across her violated butt. Her eyes were glazed and dilated.

Glenda felt her lips trembling uncontrollably in spite of all the self-control she could muster. Sam kept slashing the leather crop across her tender, quivering assflesh as Glenda refused to utter a cry. The agonizing fiery heat made her body jerk, however, with each biting clit. That was enough for Sam.

"Ohhhhhh," Glenda finally sighed as Sam stopped the whipping for a second and rested.

He dangled the riding crop over her left buttock, grinning as he watched her reaction. Glenda involuntarily stiffened her muscles, waiting for the slashing pain. It never came.

She exhaled with relief, relaxing as the crop kept moving teasingly and lightly along the smooth skin of her asscheek.

Sam saw his chance. Quickly, without warning, the stable master raised the crop and slashed it violently across her smooth right buttcheek. This time Glenda couldn't control herself. A cry of agony erupted from her full lips as she lurched forward from the unexpected attack. That sudden move caused the sharp, splintered edges of the sawhorse to dig painfully into her pussylips and inner thighs. Sweat poured out from under Glenda's arms and down her forehead as Sam concentrated on her right buttcheek, lashing it red with streak marks and welts.

"Ahhhhhh! Nooooo!" Glenda shrieked as her fingers clawed at the legs of the sawhorse.

Tears started to run down her flushed, puffy cheeks.

Glenda twisted her wrists and ankles with every ounce of strength she could muster, trying to break free of her bonds. But it was impossible. Sam was too experienced a horseman and knew too much about knots and ropes to make a mistake in tying her up. She was trapped until he was finished with her.

"Take it! Take it, bitch!" Sam growled now, bringing down the crop hard.

Glenda howled, praying God that someone would hear her. But Sam had closed the big wooden doors to the stable before flying into her with the riding crop. Most of the hands were out in the fields, exercising the horses. No one would be near the buildings for several hours yet. In that time, he could do anything to her.

"G-Godddd!" Glenda cried out as the stiff leather crop cut deep into her titties. She bucked back, then lurched forward as the tip of the his instrument slashed into her nipples.

Her inner thighs were rubbed red from constant friction with the sharp edge of the crossbeam. As the crop cut across her right cheek, Glenda mercifully felt herself losing consciousness. She gave out one final long, low moan of pain before her head sank and she slumped over the beam.

The brunette had no idea how long she'd been unconscious. When she awoke, Glenda found herself off the sawhorse and back on the ground. Her wrists were bound together as were her ankles, and she was lying on her right side. There wasn't a mound in the barn.

Straining her head upward, Glenda could see from the light that filtered through the cracks in the stable walls that it was late afternoon. She must have been unconscious for several hours.

Where was Sam? What was he planning to do with her? What had he done – if anything, with Alana?

Glenda tried her best to creep across the floor.

"Trying to get away again, eh?" Sam chuckled, opening the door and walking in from the outside.

He was still bare-chested. But at least he didn't have that riding crop with him. Glenda winced as she felt every slash and welt on her body sting with pain and humiliation. She felt filthy, violated and degraded by this sub-human.

Glenda turned her head and looked away from the sneering man.

"You've caused a lot of trouble up there," Sam said, pointing up toward the mansion. "The doc's up there, and your maid and – well a whole lot of people lookin' for you and your fuckin' daughter." Sam suddenly broke out into loud, cutting laughter. The mocking tone in his voice bit painfully into Glenda's pride.

"What have you done with her?" the brunette asked after several seconds of silence.

"Nothing, baby, nothing," Sam said, walking up to her and bending down as he trailed his fingertips lightly across her right cheek.

"Get away from me!" she hissed, feeling her stomach chum with revulsion.

"Sure, baby, sure," Sam said, bending over and wrapping his big hands around her waist.

Glenda felt him rolling her over until she was crouched on her hands and knees. Her ass stuck up high in the air as Sam knelt down behind her, his fingers moving all over the streaked skin.