"David Fielding, I want you to meet Mrs. Davis. She's got a daughter here at school, from what I hear."
Betty saw a flicker of amusement across the handsome young man's face as he shut the door behind her.
"Yeah, think so. So, you've been playing some games with her?"
Coach Robinson rubbed his cock with one hand, then nodded at the tangle of rings and wires near the transformer. "And she certainly likes to play them. There's nothing you can't do with her she won't have fun with, David," Coach Robinson said with a laugh.
"You… you let these boys do things here?" Betty cried.
"Nothing wrong with that, Mrs. Davis. Keeps them off the street."
"Yeah. Looks like I can get a little more action this way than lifting weights."
"That's in the program for tonight too, David. We can't lose that game to South High next week," Coach Robinson said with some severity. "On the other hand, a little recreation would be in order. You've been working hard for the game."
Coach Robinson moved to her legs, unbuckling the cuffs and lowering her feet to the floor. Betty let out a little groan of relief. It felt good having her feet back on the ground. Her thighs were starting to hurt from all that stretching. Next came the bonds holding her waist and her ankles to the bench.
When she slowly rose from the bench, Betty felt cramps in her lower back and neck. She rubbed her hands briskly over her flesh, terribly aware of her nakedness in front of the young stud.
"Like mother, like daughter," David muttered.
"What?" Betty asked.
"Nothing. What do we do now, Coach?"
"Well, I thought you'd enjoy doing some of your own tying up. What about those eyehooks in the floor?" Jack said, nodding to the right.
David made Betty stand up, leading her to a position near an overhead pulley assembly.
"Okay, Mrs. Davis," David said with a sneer, "spread 'em… spread those legs so I can tie you up the way you oughtta be."
"David's a little short on politeness, but he gets his point across," Coach Robinson said with a short laugh.
Betty looked at the young man and felt more ill at ease with him than she had with the coach. There was more cruelty in his eyes. She obeyed, glancing at Coach Robinson who was staring at the two of them with an air of mild amusement. Looking down now, Betty saw that just beyond each of her spread feet a ringbolt in the floor held a short chain. Another set of heavy leather anklets were attached to the ends of those chains. David fitted these on her, buckling them tightly around the chafed areas already pinking her flesh.
"I'll bring the pulleys down and get the bar, David. Just make sure the leather straps are tight."
"Ow!" Betty yelped.
"Too tight, Mrs. Davis? I thought you dug havin' everything hurt a little," David said.
Coach Robinson was at the wall, turning a winch, lowering the single chain down until it was about three feet above her head. He secured the handle, then walked over to another of those hateful green metal cabinets and pulled out a long pole. There were leather strips attached to either end of the pole, strips, Betty guessed, that were going to be fastened to her wrists.
"Okay, slip the pole… that's right, right through the ring. Okay, that's the way, David. Now, she's ready to be hauled up."
"Raise your arms, bitch."
Betty flinched but did as she was told. David moved to either end of the cock, carefully slipping the thin brown leather straps around her wrists. Betty let out a sigh, feeling him attaching the bonds to her arms. It was happening all over again – this time with her standing up. The straps around her ankles were tight.
"She's ready, man."
David sauntered over to the winch, unlocking the handle and starting to turn it clockwise. The bar above Betty's head slowly rose so the woman's arms were drawn up higher and higher. The tension caused her ankles to tug at their bonds in a futile effort. Betty gasped as first one, then the other heel left the concrete.
Betty threw her head back, feeling the straining in her arms. The pressure soon spread to her shoulders and upper back while her thigh muscles tingled from the tension. When David finally stopped turning and flipped the ratchet into place, Betty hung in the form of a giant X.
"Uhhhhh, what are you going to do to me?" she cried.
Betty tried moving, but the tension in the bonds made every motion painful. In the end, Betty found the only movement she could make was turning her head from left to right.
David came up to her, running his fingers lightly up and down her strained flesh. He stopped at her cunt, brushing the still-swollen meat with the backs of his knuckles.
"Fuck. You still got cum comin' out from there," he said, wiping his hands briskly on his Levi's.
"I fucked her good, David. She was really a hellcat. She couldn't get enough prickmeat," Coach Robinson said, stepping into his Levi's a little awkwardly.
"Bet she couldn't. These types get fucked, and they want more."
"Sounds like you've had her before."
"Kind of."
"Her type, eh? Well, you know what kind of fun you're going to have now," the coach said.
"Yeah, first-class slut!"
David took off his white cotton T-shirt now, throwing it on the floor, then unfastening his belt and top button. Betty saw the bulge in his trousers, nearly as large as the coach's. She licked her lips nervously.
"Cunts. They're all cunts. They pretend they don't wanna get fucked, but then… man, they can't throw their fuckin' legs up fast enough." David sauntered up to her, then suddenly cocked one hand back.
In an instant she felt his fist slamming into her belly. She jerked on the taut bonds as the blow went past the flaccid muscles of her belly. Betty gagged, the dull pain seeming to wrench her insides. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at the sadistic young man.
"Take it easy, David. You don't want to knock her out of the game early," Jack warned.
"She's gonna stay. The more you dish out, the more she wants. You just watch."
"Then, use the riding crop instead of the belt. It'll test her endurance."
"Yeah, the crop," David agreed.
"Please, no, no, don't do anything like that. Oh God, no."
Betty watched as Coach Robinson handed David another instrument of torture from one of those metal cabinets. David was examining the leather instrument, running his thick fingers over the straps, then smoothing them over the wrapped handle. Betty could almost feel the sting of the leather already as she stared hopelessly at the crop.
"Coach Robinson was nice to you. He didn't use this on you," David said.
"David likes the whip. He's brought some of the girls down here. After a while, they seemed to like the whip too. Guess most people do. They just don't like talking about it to others at first."
"No, no!"
Her forehead creased with terror while cold beads of sweat dotted her flesh. Betty jiggled the chains above her, jerking her body from side to side as she stared wildly at the riding crop.
"Noooooo!"
Betty shook her head, the leather cuffs on her wrists starting to cut into her flesh. She winced, fighting back the hot tears welling up in her eyes.
"Bitch!" David snapped.
His voice was like a razor, cutting into her consciousness. Betty's eyes widened even more when he cocked his right arm back. This time, she knew, there would be no fist slamming into her, taking away her breath. She heard the leather straps hissing through the air. Then the crop slashed across her right cheekbone.
"Yaghghghhhhh!" The force of the blow snapped her head to the side.
Again David brought the crop against her face, making the woman scream and jerk heavily on the bonds stretching her body from the floor. The pole above twisted slightly. But the tension kept her body in line. At one point, Betty thought she felt something pop in her left shoulder as she struggled against the horrid crop.