Chapter 1
Ellen Fischer was a good woman-at least, she thought so up to this evening. She had raised her two daughters, Cindy and Trina, without the help of her long-gone ex-husband. Though they both had begun to give her headaches with their constant questions about sex, Ellen nevertheless loved her family and felt she would never need anything else in her life other than her daughters and eventually their children.
But something had happened to Ellen. She had begun to feel strange, especially when men followed her around with their undressing eyes. She had seen them, the hungry look they had as they stared at her full big tits, her firm ass, her long shapely thighs that invited tongues to lick up the firm flesh to her hot cunt. Yes, Ellen thought with a sigh, it was hot-hot and moist, and prickling constantly now while flames of incredible goodness lapped up her flesh and burned her clit. She had tried to fight down that feeling, curling her fingers against her sweaty-damp palms until her nails bit into her skin. Cold showers did nothing. They were more of a joke than an answer to her growing problem. She began to have dreams-terrible, dirty dreams of men holding her, kissing her, fucking her. She would awaken panting like an animal, her nightgown sticking to her sweaty flesh while her pussy throbbed, her thighs wet with cuntjuice. The fingers that plowed through the musky mess between her ridging thighs did little to ease the agony growing more and more intense with each passing day.
Ellen successfully hid her problem from her daughters, passing off her irritation as just growing old. But she had never felt more young in her. life.
When Trina and Cindy left for school, Ellen was tempted to find a man to drag off to her bed and ease the itchy ache throbbing in her cunt. The mailman was too old and ugly. But there were telephone men, gas repairmen, any repairman.
Ellen had almost panicked at the last minute, preferring to fantasize rather than take a chance with a stranger. But now she was stepping from her car with a man she had met only a few hours ago. The night was dark, clouds having obscured the full moon, while a breeze gently raised her blonde hair from her shoulders. Ellen pulled her pink sweater more tightly around her throat, watching as the tall dark-haired man moved around the front of his red car and casually slipped his arm through hers. She knew what he wanted. Most people going to the Raging Bull want the same thing-a fast fuck with no questions asked. Ellen had known about that bar. Everyone in Glendale knew about it. So it was with great fear the tall, leggy blonde slipped from her house and drove around the city streets, making certain no one was following her before she parked two blocks down and nearly ran the distance to the double green doors.
Brad-his name-seemed nice enough, and certainly caught her eye the moment she'd slipped onto the barstool and felt like a hooker angling for clients. Ellen smiled, fighting down the fear and excitement rushing through her body as she watched him unlock the door. Her cunt was swollen open again, a burning itch making her clit curl back from the touch of her puffy cuntlips.
Ellen did her best to appear calm, narrowing her eyes as she stepped into the darkened living room and heard the door close behind her. Her nipples were taut, poking up against the white silk blouse clinging to her body. She tried to steady her breathing, thinking of her daughters studying late at the Johnson's home this evening.
"Drink?"
Ellen shook her head, feeling her throat growing tighter. It was so natural feeling like this. She sat down on the high-backed couch, her ass sinking all too comfortably into the cushions.
Brad stood at the wet bar, his fingers on a vodka bottle. He was hesitating, looking at Ellen, then eyeing the glass half-filled with ice. He let out a loud sigh, then turned and walked up to her. Ellen froze, feeling as if she would faint. Chills swept over her body as she could feel his warm breath against her throat. He was sitting next to her now, his eyes glowing. She waited, half-expecting to feel his tongue lick into her ear. They had talked a good deal at the bar about one thing or another. But now he was strangely silent. Her cunt was spasming as if it were a tiny frightened animal, its full lips curling and trembling while her clit seemed to crackle with arousal. Brad looked at her for a minute, then drew closer, his mouth covering hers.
Ellen felt his tongue pushing through her parted lips as his hands roamed freely over her body. She kissed him back long and hard, feeling his tongue scraping over her gums while his right hand pushed gently under her dress. When she felt him slipping his fingers into her panties, she stopped them, tearing away from the kiss.
"I-I don't know what I'm doing," she said with a husky laugh.
Brad's face screwed up into a mask of confusion, his brows knitting together as he stared at her.
"What?"
"I mean, I don't know if I'm ready for this. It's been so long and-and I don't know if it's right!"
He pulled away from her, his full lips pulled tight.
"People go into that bar for one reason," he said, his voice having a cutting edge to it now. "And now you've got doubts?"
Ellen didn't like the way things had suddenly turned. Brad was staring angrily at her, his fingers working against one another and his nostrils flaring. Ellen felt frightened. Moving her ass away, she started to get up, drawing her knees together. Things were getting out of hand, and she would stop them right now.
"You're not going anywhere. Not until I'm finished with you."
"What?"
Ellen struggled against the hand holding her arm. She let out a gasp, twisting around while she pushed her heels against the couch. He was hurting her, pulling her back to the couch and throwing one muscular leg over her thighs. She heard something tearing. It was her blouse. Brad was ripping off her blouse while jerking her skirt up to her thighs. In a second, she felt him pulling down her panties as he covered her mouth with his.
"No!"
He was fingering her pussy now, shoving two fingers into her hot cunt and twisting them around like a screwdriver while jabbing his tongue all the way down her throat! His legs were hurting her as he pushed her back onto the sofa.
Ellen couldn't struggle against him. He was too big, too strong. She gasped, fighting for air, finally biting down on his tongue in desperation.
Brad shouted, jerking back and covering his mouth with one hand while still keeping her trapped against the couch. His face seemed black with anger as he moved his tongue against the insides of his cheek, checking for damage.
"You fuckin' bitch!"
She saw the hand jerk up, saw the fingers closing against one another, saw the fist coming down at her in slow motion. No man had hit her-ever! Even in the violent quarrels she had had with her ex-husband, Fred had never struck her. Ellen couldn't believe this was happening, watching as the hand came down in a broad arc, cutting the air and shadows until it smacked against her right jaw.
Ellen cried out, her head snapping to the left from the force of the blow while her hair splashed over her face. The hot, stinging u sensation made tears well up in her eyes, and she looked away from the big man threatening her.
"Please, don't-don't hurt me! Just let me go! There are other women there and-uhhhh!"
He struck her again. This time his knuckles bruised her chin and sent the blonde reeling back against the sofa. The room spun dizzyingly around and around, Brad's hands pinching and slapping her body while Ellen tried to crawl away.
"You're like the others, teasin' then tuckin' your ass away when the going gets rough!" Brad growled, twisting strands of her hair in between his fingers and tugging her face against his.
Ellen cried out, feeling her hair ripping from her scalp painfully as she felt his spit spraying her face. He was nearly incoherent, shouting at her, his face turning purple with rage while his knees shoved between hers. The woman trembled, fearing he would really hurt her as he continued to shout insults at her.
Finally he loosened his grip, pulling her off the couch and throwing Ellen to the floor. She collapsed face-down, her right hip striking the edge of the glass-topped coffee table hard before she crumpled to the floor. She was about to try to scramble to her feet when Ellen felt something pressing hard against the back of her neck. It was Brad's booted foot, the heel shoving down against her neck and pressing her face back into the blue carpeting.
Ellen squawked, her arms collapsing under the pressure while her nose flattened against the carpeting. Brad was stepping on her, pressing down while drawing his other foot up against her lips. The force of his push forced her mouth open. The woman could taste blood oozing into her throat as Brad kept up the pressure. She dug her knees into the thick carpeting, squirming against the floor while feeling herself gasping for air.
"Lick 'em, bitch! Come on, lick those boots! I wanna show you just where you stand!"
Ellen tried scrambling away again, worming her body across the floor as best she could. But Brad threatened to snap her upper spine with his heel if she tried to pull away once more. Defeated, Ellen lay there, her tongue half out, her eyes nearly crossed as she watched him draw his left boot up to her face. Reluctantly swallowing her shattered pride, Ellen began drawing the tip of her tongue across the top of his boot, tasting the pungent leather and feeling gritty dirt coating her mouth.
She felt her belly turning over, her bile rising in her throat as she continued to lick around and over his boot. Brad was having fun watching her, calling her every foul name in the book while twisting the boot around, making sure she was cleaning his boot well.
Ellen spat out the foul mixture of filth and spit several times, feeling as if she would surely vomit and fearing the consequences.
Ellen had nearly fainted licking off his heel when Brad drew the boot away, carefully examining it, then casually flicking off an imaginary speck of dirt on the toe before nodding with approval.
"You're good, baby. I think you might even like doin' shit like this."
"No, no, never!"
Ellen couldn't believe women could be forced to perform this way. Some might enjoy it, she allowed, but she would never, ever enjoy submitting this way to a man. Brad sensed her reluctance and laughed, gripping her by the shoulders and hauling her up. Ellen was swaying dangerously from side to side, then she collapsed against the big man's chest. He held her for a moment, then began moving back ward. Ellen felt herself being dragged, her toes rubbing against the soft carpeting. She pushed herself away from Brad, stiffening as she feared the worst. There was the door! Hitting him as hard as she could with a doubled fist, Ellen lurched away, stumbling head-first as her hands flew out and gripped the brass knob.
Brad was faster, beating her savagely between the shoulders until the woman found herself sobbing and screaming on the floor. He was twisting her hair again, tugging at it, dragging her across the living room floor like a sack. Ellen shrieked, beating her fists behind her, feeling the weight of her body tearing at the roots of her hair. But Brad ignored her, dragging the shrieking woman through the doorway and past the stove and refrigerator before pausing for one moment and opening the door leading to his basement.
"Up!"
He jerked her to a half-standing position, twisting the woman around and shoving her forward. Ellen's legs twisted together at that point, making it impossible for her to catch her balance. She fell into the dank darkness, her body pitching to the right and down. She screamed, her arms flailing uselessly in front of her as she fell several feet.
Ellen felt her body strike the wooden handrail. With another cry, she wrapped her hands around the rail, her legs swinging out in front of her while her ass finally settled onto a step. She caught her breath, thanking God she had managed to keep from tumbling all the way down the steps.
Brad was behind her, prying her off the stairs and shoving her forward until she finally slid down to the bottom. He pushed her forward again, watching the woman carefully until she found herself in an odd narrow room. That was when she felt Brad's fingers curl around the collar of her torn blouse, tearing down and ripping the garment completely off her body.
"No!" She shouted out her protest, flinging her arms around her naked tits and backing away from him. Her eyes widened, her nostrils flaring as she looked frantically from side to side. It was a strangely narrow room. There was no path of escape except right past Brad. There were iron rings in the walls, rings that promised more horror and pain. Her eyes dropping down, Ellen saw that there were two small wooden benches set end to end. Brad was stretching his arms out, his thick fingers pressing against the walls. He seemed to fill the room, to crush her to the floor.
"Yeah, baby, come on, take off that skirt. Take it off or I'll rip it off!"
Ellen knew she had no choice. Fighting back tears, she carefully unzipped her black skirt, stepping from the puddled garment and tossing it to one side. She knew he could see the dark triangle of her pussyhair through her sheer white nylon crotch panel. Brad was licking his lips like a wolf, staring at her as if he could eat her that very second.
"Please, don't-don't hurt me!"
He threw back his head and laughed. Ellen sat down on one of the benches, watching like a caged animal, feeling her heart beating so hard and fast she was certain she would surely have a heart attack. And something else was happening to Ellen, something that startled and confused her as she half-crouched there on the floor, her eyes darting from Brad to the rings, then back to Brad again. She was feeling a slow fire start to warm up her cunt, a fire that tingled and itched and burned while her clit began to stiffen slowly and rise from the musky wet flesh surrounding it.
Brad sauntered cockily over to her, pushing the woman down roughly, them jamming the benches more closely to one another. He kept her down, making sure her back rested on one while her ass slipped down on the second stool. Her thighs and legs hung over the end while her nylon panties pressed naughtily against her steamy cunt. It was then Ellen realized just how hot and wet she was, feeling the warm silken material knife into her pussy as she lay there spread open to the big man. Brad could see her arousal, could see just how turned on she was, and he grinned at his success.
He curled his fingers around the elastic waistband and tugged the briefs down roughly to her knees. Ellen let out a sharp little cry but didn't dare make one move to keep him from doing his worst. She remembered the blow against her face, and the crashing sensations of his fists against her back. She lay as if he were going to operate on her, her ass flat against the cold splintery wood and her cuntlips stretching apart. They were moist, she knew, puffy and moist, and red with desire. The itchy way her pussyhair fluffed after having been nested under her tight-fitting panties even added to the itchy delight that started to throb through her cunt.
Ellen didn't even protest when she felt him pulling her slender arms back behind her head, pressing her wrists against the wooden legs of the rear bench and telling her to keep them there. She felt something wrapping around her hands and rolled her eyes back. Leather straps! Two thick brown leather straps had been riveted to the back bench's hind legs. Brad was pulling them around her wrists now, snugging the leather against her flesh then threading the ends through a rusty buckle. Ellen discovered she could not raise her shoulders from the bench. "Uhhh!"
Next Brad cinched a broader black leather strap tightly around her small waist. He tugged it hard, the material cutting into her flesh and making Ellen's eyes widen as she let out a breath of air. She thought he was going to cut her in two as the big man tugged and pulled, making the benches grate and slide against the floor. Ellen sighed softly, feeling the pressure ease a bit above her tummy. She looked at the rings again and wondered how he was going to use those against her.
Ellen had little time to wait for an answer. Brad disappeared from her sight of vision for only a moment, rattling around in a small dark cabinet to her right. When he returned, he had leather anklets, things that looked like tiny cuffs with buckles on them. Ellen was about to speak when she felt him sliding one onto her right ankle, then her left. It was then when she noticed large slide-hooks that had been sewn into the sides of the anklets. After buckling the things to her legs, Brad bent down and hefted her right leg up, raising and shoving it to one side so that the ring on the anklet could be attached to the large iron ring riveted into the wall.
Ellen shifted her position as best she could, feeling her cunt opening from the resulting tension. The cool air felt good against her hot, sweaty pussy flesh. And oddly enough, everything was starting something going in her, something Ellen never would have dreamed could exist in a human being.
Brad raised her left leg and brought it up against the opposite wall, fastening the anklet to another ring and spreading her wide open. Ellen gasped, feeling as if she were going to be ripped in two. She understood the narrow room now. It was ideal for the straps that controlled her legs. Brad now tugged savagely on the buckles, first one leg then the other. She was spread open wider and wider, her cunt lips peeling stickily back from one another under the pressure, until the rich dark red meat of her cunthole came into view.
Brad swallowed hard, perspiration dampening his shirt as he reached between his legs and gave his stiff cock a good hard squeeze.
Ellen blushed, the cutting pain of the anklets matching the shame and embarrassment she felt lying there, split open, naked and bound to the walls while this savage was jerking himself off. He would rape her-beat and rape her then let her go. And somehow, that thought made her want to smile with a kind of relief.
"Okay, baby, now we get down to some serious action!"
"Serious?" Ellen was horrified. There was more? She expected Brad to throw himself onto her, rape her, and then let her go. But apparently there would be something else. Ellen trembled with fear as she lay there helplessly, waiting for the inevitable.