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  “Is Sam Becker in this with you?” Glenda demanded to know.

  “Never mind who’s in this, Mrs. Williams. What’s important is your daughter. Now, we’ve got her and we’re gonna keep her until you pay her way free,” the man insisted.

  Glenda felt herself freeze with terror as she realized that Alana was being held for ransom. God only knows what they’d do to the girl unless she cooperated.

  “What do you want?” the brunette asked in a strangely calm voice. She didn’t want to give these bastards any kind of enjoyment from her obvious fear and concern. If money’s what they want, they’ll get that — and just that.

  “Five hundred thousand dollars, Mrs. Williams,” the man replied evenly.

  “Five hundred thousand…?” Glenda gasped. “I haven’t got that kind of money.”

  The brunette sprang to her feet and nearly dropped the receiver to the floor.

  “Come on, Mrs. Williams. Maybe not under your pillow. But you’ve got more than ten times that in assets. Your daughter’s worth at least that much, isn’t she?” the man asked.

  Before Glenda could say anything, she heard Alana suddenly scream out in pain. The shriek was high and shrill, lasting for what seemed to be an eternity before it died down to a quiet whimper.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” Glenda cried wildly into the receiver. She was hunched over and beating her fists on the nightstand next to the bed as Alana’s whimpering continued.

  “Start liquidating some of those assets, Mrs. Williams. We’ll be in touch,” the man said, hanging up quietly.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Glenda held the receiver in her right hand for several minutes after the man hung up. Kidnapped! And probably tortured! If Sam were involved in this some way, Glenda had an idea what Alana was going through now. She had to move quickly if she wanted to see her stepdaughter alive again.

  Got to call Peter, Glenda said to herself as she pressed down the button and got a dial tone. The brunette nervously punched the buttons and waited for the lawyer to answer his phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Peter, this is Glenda. Now listen, I don’t have all night. Alana’s been kidnapped. They’ve called me and they want five hundred thousand dollars.”

  “What? My God! We’ve got to call the police,” the lawyer said as he realized what Glenda was saying.

  “No police! No police! They’ll kill her for sure if we call the police!” Glenda replied hysterically. “You’ve got to start selling some of my stock now.”

  “Glenda, I…”

  “Listen. You’re my lawyer. Now you do what you’re told,” the brunette said, “or I’ll start it myself.”

  Peter paused at the other end of the line before saying anything.

  “All right, Glenda. It’s your money. When do they want it?”

  “They didn’t say. But I’ve got to have it now, Peter. Please,” Glenda pleaded. She had mental mages of Alana being strapped down and raped repeatedly by God only knows who.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” the lawyer said.

  He hung up after reassuring Glenda that he’d do everything in his power to help. The big-titted brunette showered hurriedly, ignoring the stings that the water caused as it beat against her violated skin. As she dried off, then slipped into her nightgown, Glenda thought of nothing else except Alana.

  Where was she? What were those men doing to her? The questions spun wildly around in Glenda’s head as she pulled back the covers of her king-sized bed and slid in between the silk sheets. Images of Sam towering over her with the pain-inflicting riding crop danced in her head as she slowly sank into unconsciousness.

  “No! Don’t!” Glenda screamed out, covering her face as she sat up quickly in bed.

  Sweat soaked through her nightgown as the brunette opened her eyes. It was a dream — a nightmare about last night. The riding crop, the sawhorse cutting into her cunt-flesh, Sam’s thick cock battering its way up her shitter, all these things sliced through her mind as she perspired heavily.

  Slowly, Glenda realized that the ringing phone had awakened her. Rolling quickly over on her right side, she reached out and jerked the receiver nervously off the phone.

  “Mrs. Williams? You got the money?”

  “I’m getting it,” Glenda said softly. “I want to talk to my daughter.”

  “We’ve got her tied up right now. But she’s safe. Just as long as you play it our way, she’ll be okay,” the man said calmly.

  “When can I get her back?” Glenda asked with a slight quiver in her voice. She was desperately trying to keep control of herself. But under the pressure from last night, that was almost a losing battle.

  “As soon as we get the dough. We want it in two parts. The first two hundred-fifty thousand we want you to deliver it in person. This afternoon at five-thirty at the old Holmes ranch. Bring it in a briefcase, alone, and put it on the kitchen table of the main house. The rest, we’ll get your lawyer Thomas to bring.”

  “That’s our way, Mrs. Williams. Take it or leave it. See you tonight,” the man said, hanging up quickly.

  Glenda had just placed the receiver back on the phone when Hilda knocked at her bedroom door and announced that her lawyer Peter was downstairs. Glenda threw her long, tapered legs over the edge of the bed and glanced at the clock as she slipped out of her nightgown. It was already eleven-thirty in the morning. She prayed that Peter had the cash with him.

  The woman dressed hurriedly, slipping a blue jersey over her big tits and stepping into a pair of white, clinging slacks. She ran down to meet Peter.

  “Lovely as usual,” Peter said, smiling up at Glenda as she ran down the stairs.

  Glenda smiled back, nervously waiting for Hilda to walk out of the room. As soon as the mild left, the brunette dropped her casual air and whispered hoarsely to the lawyer.

  “Have you got the money?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t easy,” Peter answered, raising his eyebrows and sighing as he put the briefcase down on the cocktail table and opened it. Glenda’s eyes widened as she looked at the rows of hundred-dollar bills.

  “It’s all there?” she asked, reaching down with her right hand and picking up a packet of bills.

  “It’s all there. When are we supposed to deliver it?” he asked, sitting down on the long, white couch and looking up at her.

  Glenda knew that Peter wasn’t going to like this. But he had no choice. As she put the bills back in the briefcase and closed it, the brunette explained to him what the kidnappers wanted.

  “No deal!” Peter said, shaking his head rapidly back and forth. “You’re crazy if you go through with it. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Peter, I’ve made up my mind. It’s the only way I get Alana back. Besides, they won’t do anything to me. I’ve still got the other two hundred fifty thousand back here,” Glenda said, knowing that Peter would really object if he knew what had happened to her the night before. Fortunately, the long-sleeved jersey and slacks hid any of the marks that still scarred her body.

  “And I’m supposed to wait around until I get a call from them?” Peter finally said, realizing that Glenda wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  “Yes. I guess they want the ransom delivered like this to make sure I don’t call the police. Please, Peter. Do as I say. I want her back. Then we can call out the National Guard it you want to, but please, this time…”

  “All right. All right. I’ll be back around four this afternoon,” the lawyer said, patting Glenda comfortingly on the shoulder as he left.

  The brunette sat in the drawing room the rest of that morning and afternoon, watching the hours drag by as she waited for five o’clock to come. The Holmes ranch was about a half-hour ride from her home. It had been deserted far the past ten years in the back hills behind Glenda’s estate. Now it was going to be the meeting place for this sordid affair.

  Finally five o’clock came. But Peter wasn’t there.

  “Tell Mr. Thomas that I’ve gone out. He’ll know where I am,�
� Glenda told Hilda as she tucked the briefcase under her right arm and hurried out the door. She’d separated half of the money and stuffed it a paper sack that she had hidden in the wall safe above the fireplace. That was just another piece of insurance. If they tiled anything funny, she still had the other two hundred fifty thousand tucked safely away.

  “I’ll call him later,” Glenda shouted over her shoulder as she jumped into her car and started the engine quickly.

  Images of rape and torture whirled through Glenda’s mind as she sped down the highway toward the Holmes ranch. It was already beginning to get dark. The brunette had her doubts about going to the ranch alone. But she didn’t have much choice.

  As the sun slowly sank behind the bare, rounded hills, Glenda turned up the dirt road leading to the collection of run-down buildings and wondered what kind of condition Alana would be in when she was finally released by her kidnappers.

  Pulling up in front of the main ranch building, Glenda spotted two cars parked behind the house. She wasn’t alone! Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the car door and stepped out into the cool night air.

  Would her stepdaughter be there? Would she at least be able to see her?

  These questions racked Glenda’s mind as she slammed the door behind her and walked over the loose gravel in front of the house to the sagging wooden porch. The ranch was deathly quiet. Almost too quiet.

  Glenda felt goosebumps break out all over her body as she reached out and opened the front door. Stepping into the darkened room of the old ranch house, Glenda immediately saw two silhouettes sitting opposite one another by a large, rectangular table.

  “Mrs. Williams, I guess,” the man on the right said, turning slowly toward her.

  The room was too dark for Glenda to make out his features. But the woman knew instantly that this was the man who phoned her.

  “Yes. I’ve got the money. Now, where’s my daughter?” she asked, still holding the briefcase tightly under her arm.

  “She’s safe. Let’s see the cash,” the man said, pushing the chair back and standing up.

  “Take your blood money,” Glenda said, throwing the briefcase onto the table top.

  “Must be nice to be that careless about two-hundred fifty thou,” the man commented wryly as he turned the briefcase around and opened it.

  The other man reached over and turned up the flame on the hurricane lamp that had been burning low in the middle of the table. The sudden bright red glare lit up both faces of the men. The one counting the money didn’t look familiar. But the other man was all too recognizable. It was Sam, leering at her like a satiated vulture while his partner counted the stacks of hundred-dollar bills.

  “How you been, bitch?”

  “Where is she?” Glenda said, feeling her fingers tremble with revulsion and terror.

  “It’s all here,” the other man said, closing the top of the briefcase softly and locking it.

  “Good. You want to see your daughter? Come on,” Sam said, leering at her as he stood up.

  Automatically, Glenda shrank back from the approaching man and stepped back onto the porch.

  “She’s not out there. You’ve got to go downstairs,” the other man said, pushing the heavy table back and revealing a large, square trap door.

  Both men bent down and pulled the door open. A sudden flood of light filled the tiny room.

  “Down there?” Glenda asked nervously as she edged her way back into the room.

  “See for yourself,” Sam said, pointing into the hole.

  “Oh my God!” Glenda cried, peering down into the basement.

  There was Alana, all right. “What have you done to her?”

  “Nothing, yet,” he said, reaching out and pushing the woman forward.

  “Ooooooh!” Glenda cried out, pitching forward as she lost her balance. She fell several feet before she reached up and grabbed onto the edge of the floor just in time. Her legs dangled into the basement as Sam and the other man stood above her and laughed.

  “There’s another couch just for you, baby,” Sam said, stepping forward and pressing the heel of his right shoe down lightly on the fingers of Glenda’s left hand. The pressure increased, and the brunette realized that she’d have to let go soon if she wanted to have a hand left.

  “Got another one for you, Sid,” the other man in the room called down into the basement as he stepped on Glenda’s other hand.

  “God!” the brunette screamed as the pain became too strong.

  Her fingers slipped out from under the men’s shoes and she plummeted down to the concrete floor of the basement.

  “Got ‘er,” a tall, blond, crewcut man said as Glenda moaned in pain.

  It was a miracle that no bones were broken. As it was, the brunette’s head swam in a sea of pain and horror as she felt her wrists being pulled behind her back and bound savagely with rope.

  “You’ll never get the rest of the money,” she murmured as Sid began tying her ankles.

  “Well see,” Sam said, climbing down the ladder. “Right now, you ought to meet the gang.”

  Glenda shook her head and looked around the basement. It was large, lined with thick damp bricks and brightly lit by several bare overhead lightbulbs. There were couches, like the one Alana was strapped onto, all over the room. Racks filled with whips, riding crops, cat-o-nine-tails, pokers, branding irons and other instruments of torture lined two walls of the basement, while several sets of rings hung from the ceiling at the other end of the room.

  So this is where Sam and his buddies took girls for their kind of “fun”. It was like the medieval dungeon of the Spanish Inquisition.

  As Glenda’s eyes moved from the racks and couches to the eight men standing at the other end of the room staring at her, she gasped in surprise. Many of them were her neighbors, prominent lawyers and doctors who were obviously into this kind of thing.

  “I can’t believe it!” Glenda cried a she saw thorn all looking at her with twisted smiles.

  “We’re all into this, Glenda,” Bob Dennis, a surgeon who lived next door to her said. “Sam gets the girls and we — well…”

  “We’ve done nothing to you,” she pleaded a they all started to walk closer to her.

  In a few minutes Glenda found herself stretched out on her belly. The man named Ski pull up Glenda’s jersey while another man reached around Glenda’s sides and unbuttoned her slacks.

  She recognized him as George Hardman, an economics professor at Berkley who moved into the neighborhood two months ago. He was wearing just a pair of jockey shorts now, and his big, thick cock pushed hard against the piss-flap of his white cotton jockeys.

  “I’ve always liked white women’s asses.” George said, slipping his fingers under the waistband of Glenda’s slacks and yanking them down to her knees.

  The brunette, finding herself stripped naked in front of all these men, started screaming in humiliation. She tried to grind herself into the couch, tightening her ass-muscles in a vain attempt to hide as much of her exposed body as possible. Naked in front of her friends and neighbors!

  “Mmmmmm! Good and smooth.” George said, smiling broadly and revealing a long, thick row of white teeth that contrasted with his coal black skin. The powerful muscles in his thick arms and broad chest rippled with excitement as Glenda groaned under the professor’s sensuous massage.

  “Good to tenderize the meat first,” Sam said, walking over to one of the racks and pulling out a riding crop and throwing it over to George.

  The other men broke out into smiles as Sam pulled out three riding whips and threw them out onto the floor. Some of the men bent down and picked them up, moving into the space between the two terrified women.

  “Come on, guys. Let’s play,” Sid said, raising the riding crop over Glenda’s well-rounded butt, then bringing it down hard against her tender flesh.

  “Ohhhhhh!” the brunette cried out as she felt it slice into her skin.

  The welts that were there from the night before stung e
ven more savagely as the big man started to work over her quivering butt-flesh with the crop. Soon the basement was filled with the shrieks and moans of the agonized, hysterical women. They lay side by side on those couches that were getting wetter and wetter from the sweat that poured from their tortured bodies. Glenda suffered through the big black man’s attacks.

  “Okay!” one of the men said as sweat poured down from his forehead.

  Reaching down, he opened his flap on his jockeys and let his long, gleaming black dick slip out and jerk in the air. A long, throbbing vein ran down the underside of that cock and pulsed threateningly as Alana looked over her shoulder and shrieked wildly.

  “No! NOOOOOO!” Alana howled as George sank his big fingers into the plump cheeks of the moaning girl. He pulled them apart and slid his hands slowly up and down the girl’s ass-crack.

  “Don’t! DON’T, YOU ANIMAL!” Glenda screamed, twisting her body savagely on the couch and pulling at the metal rings. She watched the big black man kneel and slide his shiny ebony cocktip between Alana’s reddened buttcheeks.

  “MAMA! MAMA! OH GOD, NOOOO! NOOOOOO!” the girl cried out as her eyes popped open in horror. Alana writhed on the couch, flinging her head back as she felt George’s cockhead press hard against her virgin asshole.

  “You — YOU ANIMALS!” Glenda cried out, finally breaking down and sobbing as she saw the professor’s black dickhead disappear. It pushed back the puckered lips of the young girl’s shit-chute, slipping past them and sinking quickly into her bowels.

  “Ohhhhhh, Mama! He’s killing me! AHHHHRRRR! It’s killing me! Don’t let him — HHHHRRRROOOOWWWW!” Alana screeched as the thick cock-shaft sank deeper and deeper into the girl’s ass.

  Glenda’s daughter kept on screaming with pain and humiliation as the big black man forced his prick into her shithole. Glenda closed her eyes, then opened them when she heard George grunting like a rutting bull. His thick black dickroot was pressed against Alana’s buttcheeks now, and he was starting to fuck her vigorously. The girl’s screams were somewhat diminished. She moaned and sobbed as the squishy sounds of the black man’s fucking cock filled the room.