"Yeah, a nice, hot cock for a good, hot pussy. That's what it's all about, ain't it? That's why you been trottin' over to my place in that Goddamned skimpy outfit, wagging your tits and ass at me, hopin' I'd come over. That's what you were askin' for, that's what you got… in spades."
"Ohhhhh…"
Sharon swallowed another lump of excitement, wondering where this would all end… for her as well as her mother.
CHAPTER TWO
"It's too tight… oh, God, you're tying it too tight," Janice wailed, her back arching while her shoulders dug into the creaking mattress. The backs of her legs undulated against the wrinkled top sheet while Hank was readjusting the belt binding her wrists. The young mother was writhing on the bed, her nostrils flaring, her eyes wide with fear. And there in front of her half-opened mouth was Hank's cock, the fat head purple, swollen, while those horrible-looking blue veins throbbed against his tight-fitting prick skin.
Outside the window, Sharon inhaled another deep breath. Nothing in her dumb sex education book had ever prepared her for something like this. S amp;M and bondage were new terms to the girl, words she had never heard before. From bits and pieces of snatched conversation held between her mother and Hank, Sharon realized that there were people in the world who enjoyed being tied up, being tormented like this. And it was very, very possible that her mother was one of those!
"Uhhhhhh… oooohhhhhhh!"
"Nice, good and nice and tight. How does that feel?" Hank asked, checking the slipknot once more, then jerking her off the pillow by her bound wrists. He shook her violently back and forth, smiling as her head snapped from side to side, her hair tangling wildly around her throat. Sharon could hear her mother crying out again, watched her huge tits slap wetly together as the big man kept shaking her from side to side. Then, with a growl he shoved her back, watching the woman bounce like a rubber ball against the mattress. Janice shook the hair from her eyes and looked up wildly at the big man about to fuck her.
In a moment, Janice was on her side, already helpless as Hank reached over and bent her knees back. She resisted, her ploy failing as he slapped her hard on the ass with the flat of his hand.
"Oh!" she squealed, her eyes rounding at the dry smack.
"Stop movin' around 'til I get this Goddamned stuff fixed on you. Then you can jerk around as much as you want," he said, laughing softly as he pulled her knees back a little more.
Sharon watched in mute astonishment as Hank pulled her mother's wrists and ankles together, then reached for the pantyhose he had dropped earlier. Sharon gasped, ducking her head down quickly as she saw her mother's eyes scan the opposite wall. Oh, that was close! What if her mother had seen her? What if she had seen her own daughter kneeling outside the window, watching this horrible scene and not doing anything about it? As it was, Sharon was unsure of how she would ever deal with her mother again. But at least Janice didn't know her own daughter was out there watching… watching and getting excited, aroused by what was going on.
"Uhhh… oh, too tight, too tight… you're tying me up too tight," Janice cried, tears beginning to form once more in her eyes.
"Too fuckin' bad, bitch."
Using the legs of the pantyhose, Hank bound her ankles tightly together with a double figure-eight, then bound her ankles to her wrists until her body bowed out, arms and legs cinched together. Janice tried tugging herself free and found, to her dismay, that there was little she could do. Her muscles tensed and bulged against her flesh as her body rocked from side to side. But the belt and the pantyhose held fast, refusing to be loosened.
"Gotta keep your fuckin' mouth shut, slut," Hank muttered.
He slipped off the bed after rolling Janice back onto her ass, and rummaged through the top bureau drawer once more, finally pulling out a small roll of adhesive tape.
"No! No!" Janice screamed, wriggling back up on the bed like a snake, her head banging hard against the Mediterranean-style headboard.
"Good thing I thought of it. You'd probably bring the fuckin' cops over here," Hank muttered, clutching his sweat-darkened jockstrap in one hand and moving toward the bed. Janice shrank back a little more, jerking her head away when he tried shoving the filthy piece of underwear into her mouth.
"No!"
"Come on and suck on it baby, suck on my jock like you sucked on my prick." He grabbed her hard by the hair once more.
Sharon winced, almost feeling the tearing pain of pulled hair as Mr. Harrington snapped her mother's head around and shoved the foul smelling jockstrap between her lips. Sharon gagged nearly as hard as her mother, feeling the sour bile rising in her throat while Hank pulled a piece of tape from the roll and wrapped it around Janice's head. In a moment, the jock was fixed in her mother's mouth held securely by the tape, and there was nothing she could do about it. The woman closed her eyes and wept freely in shame and horror, tears staining her flushed cheeks.
"That's better," he muttered, throwing the tape roll to one side.
"Oh, God!" Sharon found herself muttering, bracing herself against the side of the house. This was incredible, simply incredible! There was her mother, bound and gagged so horribly on the bed, with that monster on top of her, about to fuck her. And she could stop it! Yes, she could stop it, could scream, call for the police, or simply bang on the window and surprise the two of them into submission. But instead, the girl simply watched, feeling the heat concentrating in that furry fuck slit between her legs. Yes, yes, it was awful. She knelt there, feeling the blood seeping into her virgin cuntlips, feeling them rub over one another and her clit as she shifted position there beneath the bedroom window. She even felt shamefully close to orgasm more than once as Hank rubbed his prick over her mother's jutting tits.
"You think I could take care of your daughter, too, baby? You think I could fuck you, then move on over and fuck your daughter? Yeah, two cunts at the same time. Had a mother-daughter act down in Tijuana once. Bet you two could top 'em."
Sharon flushed violently a third time. He was talking about her! He was talking about fucking her, about doing all sorts of things to her, maybe even tying her up like he was doing to her mother. Sharon felt so unsure of herself. She fell back a little as another ripple of excitement rushed through her pussy.
"Uhhhhhhh!"
This was awful! Yes, she should knock on the window, rap on the glass as loudly as she could to let them know that somebody was there. She could duck away, rush through the bushes out to the street before either Mr. Harrington or her mother could see her. After an hour, she would come back from the movie she was supposed to be at. Maybe it would be all over then. Maybe Mr. Harrington would just go away, and never come back.
"Yeah, maybe I'm gonna grab her the next time I've over and fuck the shit outta that little girl. Nice, young cunts," Hank said, smacking his lips. "Ain't nothin' like fuckin' girls like your daughter."
Hank was tormenting Janice purposely, enjoying her mounting horror and revulsion. The woman twisted wildly against her bonds, her legs jerking so hard that the muscles and tendons bulged against her damp flesh while the cords stood out against her throat. And all the while, the headboard clattered against the wall, the blows leaving small, hairline cracks in the light-blue plaster.
"Then I could fuck you… dip into one, then the other," Hank went on, following his filthy train of thought. "You'd dig that, seeing your daughter tapped right there in front of you."