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  “Please, Alana! I can explain,” Glenda cried out as she pulled the dress over her pussy and titties.

  “Get away from me!” the girl cried, backing out of the study. She turned and ran through the reception area. In the distance Glenda could hear James and Hilda calling out after the girl.

  “Oh my God!” Glenda moaned, sinking to her knees and covering her face in shame as Brad still lay on the floor, embarrassed and confused.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Hilda! Did you see which way she went?” Glenda gasped out as she staggered from the study into the reception area of the mansion.

  “Down the hill,” the maid said, looking curiously at Glenda.

  The brunette barely had enough time to slip her dress back over her lithe body. Her hair was still matted down and tangled from the fucking she’d received from Brad. Her ha was flushed from all the excitement a few minutes earlier. In the background, Glenda could hear the boy struggling with his pats, trying to pull them on quickly as she tried to divert Hilda’s attention from the study. “I’ve got to find her,” Glenda said as she took Hilda by the hand and led her toward the drawing room. “Call Dr. Morris. Tell him to come over here right away. Tell him that Alana’s hysterical.”

  “From what, ma’am?” Hilda asked, her face showing obvious confusion.

  “Don’t ask questions now. Just tell him to come over!” Glenda said angrily as she closed the drawing room doors quickly and ran back to the study.

  “Get out of there!” Glenda hissed.

  “I’m trying to get my zipper up. It’s stuck!” Brad whined as he peeked through the cracked doors.

  “Hold your shirt over it. Hold your damned hands over it. I don’t care, but you’ve got to get out of here,” Glenda said as she pulled Brad out of the room. “If they find you in here, I’ll be ruined and you’ll be out of a job. Now get back down to the stables and help me look for Alana.”

  Brad stumbled out into the reception area, holding his shirt over his fly and looking around in every direction with embarrassment.

  “I don’t think Alana’ll be too happy to see me,” Brad said as he inched toward the door.

  “You can help anyway. You’re partly responsible,” Glenda said, refusing to admit to herself that she’d done everything except put up neon signs outside her windows begging for a fuck. “Got it!” Brad cried out happily as he gave one final yank on his zipper.

  “Bravo! Now maybe you can help me find my daughter,” Glenda said a little sarcastically as she stood by the opened front door, waiting for the boy to finish buttoning up his shirt.

  “Maybe she’s at the stables. Alana told me once that whenever she was feelin’ low, she’d come down and talk to the horses,” Brad said as the two of them ran out the door.

  “I’ll check then. You go over by the race track and hurdle run and see if you can spot her. If you do, don’t go after her. Come back to the stables and let me know,” Glenda ordered as she ran down the steep hill toward the three low wooden building five hundred yards away.

  Panic gripped the brunette as she came closer to the stables. Once she found Alana, what could she say? The girl had obviously caught her in the act. There was nothing she could do except admit, to the obvious, then beg for the girl’s forgiveness and understanding.

  Alana had to know that a normal woman had normal drives. And if these drives were frustrated in one way or other, they were bound to take strange turns when they finally burst loose. And considering the situation, making it with Brad Graham wasn’t all that strange.

  “Alana?” Glenda called out softly as she reached the large, dark entrance of the first stable building. “Alana?” Glenda called out again, smoothing down her hair as she pecked into the dark building.

  “She ain’t here,” someone with a deep voice said from the darkness.

  “Who’s there?” Glenda asked, feeling her hair stand up on end.

  “Sam Becker,” the stableman said, walking slowly out of the darkness up to her.

  Glenda straightened her back and struck an authoritarian pose in front of the leering man. There was something animalistic about Sam that terrified Glenda. Playing the cold rich bitch was the only way she felt she could fight him off. The brunette knew that he wanted her cunt. She could feel his eyes peeling off her clothes every time she walked in front of him. It was a dirty, humiliating feeling, and she’d have fired him months ago. But Sam was one of the best stable masters around. If she wanted good, prime jumpers and racers, she had to have Sam around supervising the other workers and taking over when they didn’t know what to do.

  “Mr. Becker,” Glenda said coolly, looking around with an air of unconcern, “I’m looking for my daughter. If you see her, please send her back up to the house.” Glenda turned around and was about ready to leave.

  “I sure will, Ma’am. That is, if you and Brad are through fuckin’ on the floor.” Sam laughed loudly as he folded his big hands across his big belly.

  “What? How dare you.” Glenda cried out, clenching her fingers into two tight fists and wheeling around to face him. Her face was flushed with rage and shame as she stared at the laughing pig.

  “Come on, Mrs. Williams. I know all about you and what you like,” Sam said as he leered hotly at her. “You cunts are all alike. You play hard to get. You think that your pussy’s made of gold or somethin’. But when you get a good, fat, hot dick stuffed in it, then it’s ‘OHHHH, NOOOO!’ and all that shit until you pop your load.”

  Sam lowered his hands to his crotch and started nabbing his fat fingers up and down his fly. Glenda felt her skin crawling with horror and revulsion. Sam was getting out of control.

  “You’re drunk!” Glenda cried out, slowly backing away from him.

  “Sure, I’ve had a little bit,” Sam said, suddenly letting out a loud belch.

  “And you’re disgusting!” the brunette said in a low, trembling voice as she raised her hands protectively over her big tits. How did he know? How could, he have heard about what happened unless Alana had come down here and told him.

  “You and your fuckin’ daughter — two of a kind. Two big iceberg bitches until you get a fire in your pussy’s.” Sam stumbled toward Glenda.

  “What have you done with my daughter?” the brunette asked, feeling horror creep over her as she thought that Alana might have come in contact with the stable master earlier.

  “Nothin’! Nothin’!” Sam replied, stopping a few feet in front of her and reeling from to side with a stupid grin plastered on his pussy face. “She came down here an started talkin’ to Destroyer. Couldn’t help it, Mrs. Williams. I overheard, and I apologize,” Sam slurred out, bowing mockingly in front of her. “That’s where I heard about you and the kid.”

  Glenda looked around her. Where was Alana now? When the girl realized that Sam had overheard her, she probably bolted. But where?

  “I didn’t touch her. Too bad. She’s got a nice little ass, Mrs. Williams. And I like nice, little asses,” Sam said in a low, husky voice.

  Glenda recognized that tone of voice, and realized that she’d better get out of there while she could.

  “Thank you, Mr. Becker,” Glenda said coolly as she started to leave.

  “You ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til I’m through with you,” Sam sneered, lurching forward and grabbing her by the right arm.

  “Let me go, you pig!” Glenda screamed, slashing the air with the fingernails of her left hand as she tried to twist free of Sam’s tight grip.

  “Fighting bitch, aren’t you? I like a fighter,” Sam growled, his left hand moving quickly through the air.

  Glenda felt something hard and heavy crash across her right cheek.

  “Ohhh,” the brunette cried out.

  All the breath was knocked out of her with that blow. It was so hard that it knocked the woman free of Sam’s tight grip and sent her stumbling and spinning to the hay-covered floor under them. Glenda caught herself with both hands as her knees scraped painfully across the sharp
stubble and straw. Her brain buzzed as she heard Sam’s loud, harsh laughter echo through the stable.

  “Try anything like that with me again, and you’ll get worse,” Sam said, reaching down and wrapping his hands tightly around Glenda’s narrow waist.

  The brunette was still too dazed to fight. She felt him pick her up, then drag her like a dirtied old dishrag into the foul-smelling stable. This was Sam’s home — the place where he was about to violate Glenda in the worst way possible.

  “Leave me alone,” the brunette pleaded in a soft whisper.

  But Sam pretended not to hear her. He dragged her roughly across the floor, swearing and muttering to himself until they came up to a sawhorse. Glenda was gradually coming to her senses. All she needed was an opportunity to spring free and run out of the stable. The brunette had a feeling that Sam was preparing something grotesque for his own pleasure. Glenda wanted to be no part of his sick perversion.

  “Gotta get some rope,” the fat man mumbled as he dropped the brunette like an old sack of potatoes and started stumbling toward a large, half-opened cabinet.

  Glenda saw her chance. The brunette sprung up quickly and sprinted toward the opened front door.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” Sam said, dropping the rope he’d pulled out of the cabinet and running after the woman.

  The sounds of Sam’s beating feet rang louder in her ears. If only he could reach the opening in time. If only.

  “Owwwwww!” the brunette howled, feeling her halt being yanked back hard by the stable master. The sudden pressure and unbearable pain brought Glenda crashing down to her knees.

  “OHHH! OWWWWW! NOOOOOO! OWWWWW!” the woman cried out in agony as Sam kept pulling her hair violently in every direction, swearing at her for trying to escape.

  “When I get through with you, bitch, you’ll think this was the best part,” Sam said, his face twisted into a mask of brutality and hate. Glenda cringed on the floor as she saw him draw back his hand spin. It crashed down on her face like a tumbling boulder, sending her reeling backward unconscious.

  When Glenda awoke, she found herself sitting astraddle the sawhorse. Sam had stripped her naked, tethering her wrists and ankles with the half-inch rope to the bottom halves of the legs. The rough wooden crosspiece bit into her crotch painfully. Glenda raised her head from the crossbar and shook it, trying to focus her eyes and see what was happening around her.

  “Like your new home?” she heard Sam ask somewhere behind her.

  It was hard for Glenda to turn her head. But she managed to do it, twisting around in her bonds until she spotted Sam standing about three feet behind her. He was stripped to the waist and sweating heavily. In his right hand was one of the riding crops she’d used so often when racing the horses.

  “What are you going to do to me?” Glenda asked in a trembling-voice.

  Sam just laughed, sliding the leather crop slowly up and down in his right hand while he kept staring at her naked body. He laughed again, then walked up to her, pointing the riding crop at her ass.

  “I told you I like ass meat,” Sam said, chuckling as he pushed the cold leather crop against her right butt cheek.

  Glenda felt her assflesh pucker up immediately as she felt that instrument slide teasingly up and down her butt. Sam was enjoying himself immensely. He enjoyed watching her face register disgust and fear as he moved that riding crop closer and closer toward her puckered bunghole.

  “You and your daughter — two cold, rich bitches,” Sam muttered, sliding the long leather rod now into the tight crevice that ran between Glenda’s full, firm asscheeks. “Well, old Sam’s gonna pull you down from that fuckin’ pedestal, baby. And you’re gonna love every fuckin’ second of it.”

  Before Glenda could say anything, she heard something hiss through the air. Suddenly she saw the riding crop sailing down toward her left shoulder.

  “UGHHHHHHH!” the brunette cried out as the pointed tip of the crop bit into her tender skin.

  Hot tears of shame and pain sprang to the woman’s eyes as she felt another hot flash of agony across her lower back. There wasn’t any kind of rhythm to the beating Sam was giving her now. He slashed the crop across her spine, then sent it whistling down and smacking over Glenda’s trembling shoulderblades.

  “Stop it! NOOOO!” the brunette howled, jerking and twisting in her bonds as the crop slashed over and over across her flesh.

  Glenda couldn’t believe this was actually happening. It was impossible! It was medieval! Only a few minutes ago she was locked in the safety of her home. And now this!

  “P-please! NO! OWWWWWWW! OH, GOD, HELP M-MEEEE!” Glenda cried out each time the riding crop knifed into her. But her begging seemed to drive Sam into a hotter fury. He grunted and laughed, sweating with the work of beating the groaning brunette.

  “Bitch! Bitch!” Sam grunted each time he hit her with the riding crop.

  Glenda grimaced in pain as her body twisted and bucked convulsively. The sharp wooden ridge of the sawhorse grew more and more painful as the lashing seemed to increase both in speed and in intensity. Finally Sam brought down the crop with an angry thwacking sound across her back. The brunette jerked her head up and let out a thin, high-pitched shriek. Her eyes bulged with agony as the scream diminished to a low, growing moan.

  “You’re one hell of a woman,” Sam said, chuckling as he looked at the red welts that sprang up all over Glenda’s sweaty body.

  Her skin gleamed. Glenda almost mumbled a thank-you to Sam for stopping the brutal beating for a while. She felt faint with agony.

  “You bastard!” Glenda finally said, turning around and spitting into his face.

  Sam wiped the glob of spittle from his eye, then he grabbed a handful of hair with his right hand. Yanking upward, he pulled to the left until her face was tilted up.

  “Slut!” he cried out, lifting the crop up as high as he could raise it. Sam then brought it down hard, slashing the tip of the crop across Glenda’s right tit. She babbled out a cry of strangled pain as her body shuddered from the sudden attack.

  “You’ll never get away with this,” Glenda moaned, dropping her head to the crossbar of the sawhorse after Sam let go of her hair and backed away. “When I get free, I swear I’ll hunt you up no matter where you hide!”

  “Then I might as well get as much pleasure out of this as I can,” Sam said, arching his eyebrows and walking up to the bound brunette again.

  Glenda cringed as she saw him lift the riding crop high in the air again. He brought it down hard and fast across Glenda’s right asscheek. The woman bit her lower lip hard, trying to stifle a groan. She stared at the bare wooden wall just in front of her, concentrating on a broken slat, as she tried to ignore the agonizing pain that ripped across her violated butt. Her eyes were glazed and dilated.

  Glenda felt her lips trembling uncontrollably in spite of all the self-control she could muster. Sam kept slashing the leather crop across her tender, quivering assflesh as Glenda refused to utter a cry. The agonizing fiery heat made her body jerk, however, with each biting clit. That was enough for Sam.

  “Ohhhhhh,” Glenda finally sighed as Sam stopped the whipping for a second and rested.

  He dangled the riding crop over her left buttock, grinning as he watched her reaction. Glenda involuntarily stiffened her muscles, waiting for the slashing pain. It never came.

  She exhaled with relief, relaxing as the crop kept moving teasingly and lightly along the smooth skin of her asscheek.

  Sam saw his chance. Quickly, without warning, the stable master raised the crop and slashed it violently across her smooth right buttcheek. This time Glenda couldn’t control herself. A cry of agony erupted from her full lips as she lurched forward from the unexpected attack. That sudden move caused the sharp, splintered edges of the sawhorse to dig painfully into her pussylips and inner thighs. Sweat poured out from under Glenda’s arms and down her forehead as Sam concentrated on her right buttcheek, lashing it red with streak marks and welts.

  �
��AHHHHHH! NOOOOO!” Glenda shrieked as her fingers clawed at the legs of the sawhorse.

  Tears started to run down her flushed, puffy cheeks.

  Glenda twisted her wrists and ankles with every ounce of strength she could muster, trying to break free of her bonds. But it was impossible. Sam was too experienced a horseman and knew too much about knots and ropes to make a mistake in tying her up. She was trapped until he was finished with her.

  “Take it! Take it, bitch!” Sam growled now, bringing down the crop hard.

  Glenda howled, praying God that someone would hear her. But Sam had closed the big wooden doors to the stable before flying into her with the riding crop. Most of the hands were out in the fields, exercising the horses. No one would be near the buildings for several hours yet. In that time, he could do anything to her.

  “G-Godddd!” Glenda cried out as the stiff leather crop cut deep into her titties. She bucked back, then lurched forward as the tip of the his instrument slashed into her nipples.

  Her inner thighs were rubbed red from constant friction with the sharp edge of the crossbeam. As the crop cut across her right cheek, Glenda mercifully felt herself losing consciousness. She gave out one final long, low moan of pain before her head sank and she slumped over the beam.

  The brunette had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. When she awoke, Glenda found herself off the sawhorse and back on the ground. Her wrists were bound together as were her ankles, and she was lying on her right side. There wasn’t a mound in the barn.

  Straining her head upward, Glenda could see from the light that filtered through the cracks in the stable walls that it was late afternoon. She must have been unconscious for several hours.

  Where was Sam? What was he planning to do with her? What had he done — if anything, with Alana?

  Glenda tried her best to creep across the floor.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Trying to get away again, eh?” Sam chuckled, opening the door and walking in from the outside.