"Nice body."
"Please, don't do this."
But there was no conviction in her voice. She was yielding to him in spite of his threatening posture. She nearly rested her head on his broad shoulders when she felt his fingers pulling her bra off. Her tits rolled out, big and firm, pillowing out against his chest. Jack moved back for a moment, staring at her pendulous tits, his eyes glittering.
"Nice tits. Shit, could suck on those nipples till you cum just from my tonguing," he whispered.
Betty groaned. Her late husband used to like doing that – sucking on her tit tips, then sliding up and rubbing his cock against both tits until he shot in her face. It was a nice piece of different sex, something she enjoyed as a variation to fucking. Betty grew weak, her cunt getting all swampy-hot now while her white legs trembled. Betty jerked her head back, her toes curling.
He rubbed the front of her briefs up against her cuntlips, mopping up the fuck juices starting to flow from her fur-edged fuck-rack. Betty tensed her asscheeks together instinctively, rubbing her tingling nipples against his hairy chest.
Now he was working her panties off, sliding the elastic waistband down over her hips, past her cunt, down over her thighs, then finally over her ankles. She was naked, stripped in her daughter's public school! It was unbelievable.
He caressed her ass, then slipped his fingers around and stuck two into her cunthole.
Betty nearly cried from the relief that finger-fucking was bringing her. Her knees bumped hard against his while she arched her spine and threw her head back.
"Man, you're really super-hot. That's good. Guess it's been a long time since somebody's really poked you, eh?" Jack asked.
"Oh, too long," she moaned, rubbing her cunt up against his crotch.
Betty could feel that hot, hard roll of cockmeat throbbing up against her pussy. He was going to fuck her good, driving that rock-hard piece of cockmeat into her cunthole. Just thinking about how he was going to rape her brought new rushes of chilly/hot thrills to her pussy.
"It's gonna be a little while longer too. But don't worry about it. We're gonna take care of you."
"What?"
"That." He nodded at the bench.
Betty screwed up her face in confusion.
"Now, lie down on it. Yeah, just like that."
He was guiding her, his firm hands on her shoulders. Betty knew she had no recourse other than to submit to him. But why was he putting her on this narrow, uncomfortable bench? He moved her forward, positioning her so her hips fitted just barely over the front edge of the bench. But her shoulders were still dangling over the far end. The hard wood hurt her back.
It was then, while looking up at the wall in front of her, that Betty noticed two small lengths of chain bolted to the wall approximately five feet apart and six feet from the floor. There were two buckled cuffs dangling from the ends of the chain, now opened. Her heart began beating more quickly when Jack told her to put her arms down by the front legs. She did so just as he took the second strap on the stool and draped it around her upper belly.
"Too tight? I've got to make sure you don't slip off the bench."
Snugging the belt around her waist a little more, Jack then fastened her wrists to the front legs of the bench with the two brown leather straps. Her shoulders and upper back began to hurt her terribly now as she tried to keep her head up.
It was like some horrible nightmare. Betty was unsure of what she felt about this as he secured the straps to her wrists then moved around and took her left ankle in one hand. He pulled her leg up to where one of the bolted chains were on the wall.
Holding her feet against his chest, Jack slipped the leather anklets around her ankle, cinching it nearly as tightly as the straps holding her wrists. Next came the other leg, spread far from the other and fastened to the wall as the first. Betty experimented with her bonds, tugging at her hands, then trying to bend her knees and pull her feet from the wall. It was impossible. He had her bound well.
Betty understood the small room now, it was ideal for doing something like this. Coach Robinson was something more than a good-old-boy high school trainer.
"Oh, please, it's so tight, all of them are so tight," Betty complained.
Jack stepped to one side, running his fingers up and down her strained legs and thighs, feeling her taut tendons. He shook his head.
"Not tight at all. Just right. That's to make sure you don't buck off. In fact, I'm going to tighten 'em up a little more."
Betty sobbed and pleaded as each of her ankles were drawn out another inch in the strap.
She cried out. She couldn't stand the pain. She thought he would crush her ankles from the tugging tension. Her shoulder blades wallowed against the hard, splintery wood, making the pain rushing along her spine that much more intense. And all the while the leather straps were chewing into her belly, her ankles, her wrists. In the resulting panic, Betty struggled, but found that only a part of herself could move at all. The bench was clever. She could hardly move one inch.
"Now, I'm gonna see just how sensitive you are, Betty. I think you'll be very sensitive to everything I do."
The woman struggled, shaking the loose blonde hair from her eyes and staring at him.
Jack moved up to the second metal cabinet, unlocking it and fishing around inside. She could hear clanking sounds, metal against metal, sounds that made her shiver. In a moment he came out with a small black box, several dials, now dark, on one side. Wires trailed in tangled fashion behind it. He set it down carefully near a wall plug, grinning sheepishly at her, then returned to the cabinet. In a moment, he was at her side with a collection of what appeared to be clamps, screws and wires.
"I'm going to find out just how you take to pain, Betty. You know about that, pleasure and pain, how closely they're related?"
"No!" she gasped.
Jack shrugged, separating the various instruments from one another. "Well, you will when I get through with you. Now just lay back and enjoy it. I think you will."
"Never! Oh God, God, let me go! It's hurting me!" Betty cried. She felt her wrists and ankles throbbing against the tightening leather straps.
"Now, we start." He took one ring and unscrewed it, moving down and brushing the cold metal against her moist, swollen right cuntlip.
Betty jerked, her flesh quivering at the shocking cold of the iron. She rubbed her ass as much as she could against the bench, feeling Jack slipping the opened end of the ring around her cuntlip, then screwing it down.
The cold metal soon warmed against her hot cuntlips. Jack was smoothing his fingers along the sensitive flesh between her inner and outer pussylips, letting his fingernails tease her.
Betty groaned, jerking her head from left to right while opening and closing her hand. She hadn't felt this hot, this aroused, this helpless before in her life.
He unscrewed another ring, attaching it just below her clit to the left cuntlip.
Betty tightened her thighs, watching as her muscles ridged against her flesh. It was sexy in a strange, perverted way. Her body was stretched prettily on the bench, dangling over the edges, while the leather kept her bound to the short narrow surface.
Both screws, when left alone, pulled her cuntlips widely apart. The tugging sensation sent more thrills of delight rushing through her pussy.
Betty let out another moan when Jack pulled two clamps from the tangled pike of junk and opened one. He was looking at her right nipple, moving the clamp to her tit. She knew what was going to happen. In a second, she felt the tiny sharp teeth of that clamp biting into her hard, red nipple-flesh. She ground her teeth together, moaning through them as the second clamp was attached.