Chapter 3
Cal and Cody went back behind the tractor shed. They sat smoking, trying to calm their jangled nerves.
They saw Melissa leave the house, smiling and skipping on her way home, looking like a sweet, innocent little girl. Soft rays of the setting sun colored her blonde hair, giving it a red glow.
For a moment they were tempted to grab her and finish what they started in the barn, but something kept them both from moving.
"What the hell are we going to do now?" Cody asked.
"Beats the shit out of me!" Cal could still see their mother, naked and bound on the bed, her lush tits heaving and her hairy cunt seeping cunt-juice.
"We can't just walk into the house."
"I know. She might have a heart attack. If she knew we saw her with Melissa-"
"If we hang out here for a while, she might get herself loose," Cody said. "Melissa is a pretty little bitch, but she don't tie the best knots in the world."
"I'm too horny to just hang out," Cal said. "Watching mom with Melissa really made my cock hard."
"Mine too. Maybe we shoulda grabbed her."
"I'm not so hot for her anymore. She's just a kid. Now that I've seen a real woman-big, beautiful tits, plump nipples and a hairy cunt that's so ripe for fucking-"
"Ooooh, shit! You aren't thinking about our mother!"
"Seeing her tied on the bed like that makes my cock ache. Wouldn't you like to start with an older woman? One that's desperate to feel cock in her? One who really knows how to fuck a man?"
"For Christ's sake, Cal! We can't fuck our own mother! If she didn't kill us when she gets loose, dad would when he comes home this weekend."
"I'm not talking about our mother, you simple shit! I'm thinking about Mrs. Brandon. Melissa said her father's away on business-and that she fools around when he's not home."
"Yeah, but we can't just walk into her imagine house and say, hi, we heard you were horny. Wanna fuck?"
"We don't have to ask, ass-hole. What if we tie her up? Then we fuck her!"
"If Mr. Brandon ain't home, you know she's gonna be fucking with the stableman or the maid-maybe both. And Melissa will be there somewhere. How can we tie up a whole house full of people?"
"That's what makes it so interesting. The challenge. Give me another smoke, I gotta come up with a plan. A fucking good plan!"
Melissa put on a pretty new dress for dinner. Her mother always insisted that she look her best. Their maid, Hilda, helped the girl change, and the busty, bright-eyed German girl could not help noticing rope burns around Melissa's small wrists.
"What have you been doing?" Hilda asked with concern. Then she saw the fading paddle marks on the cheeks of Melissa's cute little ass.
Hilda had been well trained. She escaped from East Germany by fucking a whole squad of soldiers. Vance Brandon met her in Berlin on one of his business trips and used his connections to get her immigration papers with a small condition. If she failed to please him, his demanding wife and bitchy little daughter, she could be sent back.
"It's my pussy, Hilda. Do you think it's pretty?"
"Oh yes, miss! Very pretty! But you shouldn't have let boys see it. What would your mother and father say?" Part of Hilda's job was to see that Melissa remained pure until she married a wealthy and proper young man.
"They'd both shit," Melissa said, smiling. "But don't worry, Hilda. I'm still cherry. And I got even with the boys who did this to me. You should have seen what I did to their mother!"
"I don't want to know!" Hilda gasped.
"Why not?" Melissa asked. "It's no worse than what you do with my mother."
"Oooooh! You aren't supposed to know about that."
"But I do, Hilda. I sneak around at night when everyone thinks I'm asleep. I know mother-likes bondage. I've seen her whipped and chained on the bed, getting fucked by your juicy clit or that stableman's big cock."
"Your father doesn't know she does that!" Hilda cried in alarm. "He must never know! He would blame me and send me back!"
"I have some ideas-and I want to try them! Bring your costumes, your whips and your chains to my room tonight, Hilda. After my mother has gone to bed."
"No, she might hear us. If she finds me with you like that, I'll be sent back."
"She'll never know, Hilda. Mom's going to be with her stableman tonight. And you're going to be my prisoner, bitch! You be here with all your toys tonight, or I'll have my daddy kick your luscious ass out!"
Hilda's soft, full lips quivered. Her eyes looked fearful, but she had no choice. She had to please the lewd little bitch or be sent back.
Cal and Cody crept around back of the horse barn after dark. Carl, the brawny stable hand, lived in a small apartment at the far end of the building. They peered cautiously through his bedroom window and saw a powerfully built young man in his mid-twenties.
Carl had just gotten out of the shower, stark-naked and dripping wet. His upper body was a broad wedge of rippling muscle that tapered down to a slender waist. Arms like oak limbs, legs like steel springs-and a pendulous cock, almost a foot long.
Cody pulled away from the window. "Holy shit! You think we can knock that guy out? I don't care if you did bring our baseball bat. We can't reach the top of his head!"
"You're right, Cody. He's bigger than the two of us put together. Looks like he could kick Rambo's ass if he wanted. We gotta switch to plan two."
"Plan two? What the fuck is plan two?"
"I don't know yet. Shut up and let me think."
Cody shrugged and straightened up to peer through the window again. He watched Carl open a footlocker at the end of his bed. First the boy thought he was getting out a harness for one of Mr. Brandon's horse.
"Jesus H. Christ! Hey, Cal-take a look."
"I told you not to bother me. I gotta figure a way for us to get Mrs. Brandon tonight, not him.
"Yeah, but look! She must be kinkier than we thought."
Cal raised up and saw Carl cinching the broad black leather straps of his harness. The harness covered him from his broad shoulders to his waist, and was studded with little chrome spikes every two inches or so.
A wider studded belt circled his waist, supporting a polished black leather cup lined with fur. The cup held Carl's big balls, and his massive cock stuck out through a hole rimmed with more stubby chrome spikes.
Carl pulled on high black boots with flaring tops that came over his knees. Then he put on a pair of black gloves with long, wide gauntlets studded with chrome.
Finally Carl put on a black leather hood with the front piece molded to look like an evil, un-moving face. He pulled shackles of chrome chain with broad, fur-lined leather cuffs from the trunk at the foot of his bed, and a braided black leather bullwhip that looked as sinister as a venomous snake.
"Mrs. Brandon's gonna have some kind of night!" Cody said, shaking his tousled head in a shocked state of wondering disbelief.
"Maybe not Mrs. Brandon," Cal said with a flash of sudden inspiration. The whole estate was wired with an elaborate telephone-intercom system. They had passed an extension in the stables while hunting for Carl's room.
Cal ran back to it and checked a chart tacked to the wall. One long buzz and two shorts was the signal for Carl to answer. Carl thumbed the button and held a piece of crumpled paper close to the telephone mouthpiece.
Carl answered, assuming the call was from his impatient mistress.
"Hello," he said. "Alicia?"
Cal's hand crumpled the paper to make a noise like static on a long distance line. He lowered his voice and said, "No, this is Vance Brandon."
"Oooooh-" Carl's voice choked. Cal could imagine his face turning pale behind the black leather mask.
"I know what you've been doing with my wife, Carl."
"Er, sir-let me explain. She ordered me to-"
"I know that, young man. In a way I appreciate what you've done. My wife is a lewd bitch, and my daughter is even worse."
"Yes, she is, sir."
Haughty little Melissa treated the servants like shit under her feet.
"Well, tonight I want you to teach her a lesson! I want you to whip her ass and then do whatever you feel like with her."
"But, sir-" It sounded like a bad connection, and Carl could hardly believe what he'd heard.
"Fuck her if you want. It's time somebody did."
"Y-y-yes, sir. If that's what you really want."
"That's what I want, Carl. And I know that my little Melissa wants it even more." Cal had to hang up quickly, before he burst out laughing. Plan two was working better than he dared hope.
Alicia Brandon languished alone in her bed, wondering why Carl was so late. She loved his big cock and playing the role of his helpless love slave. She was bored as the wife of a wealthy and powerful man. Vance Brandon's international business interests left little time for her.
What she craved was the raw power of a younger man's mighty cock. But Alicia could not really enjoy sex with a lowly servant. That's why she insisted Carl play the role of a cruel and demanding master. It thrilled her being forced to submit to the wonderful torrents of his vicious lust-even if it was all make-believe.
Carl left his grubby little room and hurried toward the main house. Tonight there would be no pretending. He had orders he was most anxious to obey. His leather-ringed cock twitched and throbbed when he thought of Melissa and all he would do to her before the long night was through.
Cal and Cody went into Carl's room when he left. The footlocker was still open. One look inside told them Mrs. Brandon provided plenty of money for her young lover to outfit himself for bizarre sexual pleasures. There was a lot of strange stuff left for them.
The older boy picked a devil costume to wear-red suit that fit like a second skin. The box said one size fits all, and luckily Carl had not yet worn it and stretched it to fit his massive frame.
The clinging red rubber suit was textured with scales. A stretchy devil's mask and a hood with sharp horns covered the boy's head. Rubber slippers like swim fins made his feet appear to be three-toed claws, and a scaly long tail with a tip like a spear trailed behind.
Cal's randy cock poked through a tight hole in the crotch of the suit, and he found a tube of red make-up to color it like the devil's own fiery cock. When he smeared it on, Cal felt a surge of simmering heat like the heat from the ointment they used at home to soothe aching muscles after a hard day of work in the fields.
"Hurry up, Cody, it feels like my cock is on fire!"
Cody put on a vampire outfit that was also brand new-a hairy black mask with pointed ears, a protruding snout and vicious sharp fangs. The snug suit was made like a fuck carpet that bristled with tufts of wiry black hair. A long cape with tube sleeves at the top slipped over his outstretched arms to make them look like leathery bat wings.
The box contained a tube of black cock makeup to color his protruding prick to match. Cody smeared it on and felt chilling shivers of cold radiate from the slimy black make-up.
"Christ!" he moaned. "My cock feels like an icicle. I've got to stick it somewhere nice and hot before it freezes and falls off!"
Meanwhile Melissa undressed and brushed her blonde hair until the shimmering long waves sparkled like spun gold. She dimmed the soft, indirect lighting in her luxurious bedroom and stretched out on her bed, wearing only pink panties and a matching bra, anxiously waiting for Hilda.
Her lithe body tingled and her young flesh blushed with a rosy glow of delighted anticipation. After what seemed like hours, the knob turned slowly and the door to her bedroom inched open.
"Hilda?" Melissa asked impatiently. "It's about time!"
Then the door suddenly opened wide. The broad shoulders of a powerful young man, masked and harnessed in studded black leather, nearly filled the door frame.
"Hilda's not coming tonight," he said, closing the door behind him.
Melissa's mouth gaped. She sat up in bed, eyes wide with surprise, and fearfully hugged the top sheet to her tits. He strode toward her in high boots, chuckling behind his molded black mask.
"Carl!" she said. "What are you doing here?"
"I told you, Hilda's not coming. I gave her the night off." He stood by the side of her bed, staring down through the narrow slanted eyeholes of his bizarre mask.
"You're a servant," Melissa snarled, not fearful now that she recognized the leather-clad men looming over her bed.
"Not tonight, you little bitch! Tonight I'm your master!"
"Master? My ass! Get out of my room!"
"You're through giving order," he said flatly.
"I'll scream!"
"No, we don't want your mother to hear you. She'd be so jealous." He dropped the whip and a weighty assortment of bondage devices on the floor by her bed. They fell on the thick carpet with a dull thud.
One black-gloved hand clamped behind her blonde head. The other wrestled something cold and metallic into her mouth. She gasped and gurgled a strangled cry.
The thing in her mouth was like a bit meant for a horse. A piece of icy chrome steel pressed down on her tongue. She groaned as black straps like a bridle cinched around her head to bind the gagging metal bit in place.
"I'll tell daddy," Melissa said, just before the last buckle closed tight.
"Go ahead. He sent me. He wants you taught a lesson!"
Carl laughed and adjusted a thumbscrew you by the side of her mouth, releasing just enough pressure to let her talk softly in a strained, gagging voice.
"I don't believe you," she said, fighting the cold steel bit that depressed her tongue and wrenched her jaw wide. "Daddy would never do that."
Melissa raged and clawed at the glinting dark eyes. Her sharp nails slid down the polished black leather without leaving a mark. He grabbed her straining wrists in one hand and forced the girl down flat on her back.
A black fur-lined leather cuff three inches wide closed around the wrist of her right arm. Carl jerked the chrome chain attached to the padded shackle and yanked her arm over her head. He snapped the chain around a bedpost and then bound her other wrist the same way.
Carl saw the rope burns that reddened and chafed her tender smooth skin. "You've been in bondage before!"
"Yes!" she said, nodding as fearful tears filled her fluttering blue eyes.
He turned toward the foot of her bed, grabbed another pair of fur-padded leather cuffs and used them to restrain Melissa's kicking feet. Carl chained her legs to the bedposts, binding her spread-eagled.
Melissa found it all even more terrifying than being held captive in the drafty old barn. Now soft, silky fur bound her wrists and ankles, not coarse rope-but the chilling terror of restraint came rushing back.
Carl saw the boys' names paddle-branded on her shapely young thighs and cracked a smile behind his emotionless black leather mask.
"Cal and Cody!" he said. "Those poor farm boys who live down the road. Did they fuck you?"
"No!" Melissa said, clenching her teeth on the cold steel bit and furiously shaking her head.
"Well then, they only gave you a warning. But your daddy wants you to have more than that. Maybe he knows you planned to abuse Hilda tonight. She must have called him, so he's probably worried about his precious daughter turning into a lesbian."
Melissa's frightened eyes flashed down to Carl's leather-ringed cock. It stuck out of the spike-studded harness, angled up sharply, stiff with rushing blood and pulsing with lust.
She cowered, wincing and clenching her teeth. He gave her a moment to stare, then bent down and picked up the bullwhip. The sinewy coils snaked from the palm of his black-gloved hand, unwinding with a soft hiss.
"Hilda might also have told him how much your mother-likes playing at bondage." Carl flicked his wrist and swirled the long black braided lash on the floor at his feet.
The girl shivered and held her breath, biting down hard on the bit in anticipation of pain. Carl's arm swung back and the tapered whip tongue snaked over his head in a rolling curve.
He lashed down and snapped the elastic that held the pink cups of her little bra together in front. A gagged cry of pain swelled in Melissa's chest, heaving off the tattered cups to leave her tits bare.
"I see the boys marked them too," Carl said, wondering why they hadn't fucked her after going that far.
"Your daddy wouldn't like seeing the names of two grubby farm boys branded on your tits," Carl said, swinging his arm back. "So we'll take care of that right now!"
The whip hissed and lashed across her naked tits. A narrow welt blazed over the white imprint of the boys' names as though crossing them out.
Melissa shrieked and bucked, clanking the chains that bound her arms and legs. The stinging lash struck again, blazing another fiery red welt across the fading paddle marks. Their names were marked out with ribbons of pain.
Carl lashed her thighs and the ripening hump of her little pussy-mound. Her flesh burned red in a flood of hot pain that obliterated the glaring white brand of the boys' names.
"You're mine now," Carl said. "Your pussy belongs to me! And what my cock does to you won't fade away!"