Chapter 4
"And this is our athletic department," the principal
announced to the group of parents. "Coach Jack Robinson here's
been training our football team for the past three years and, I'm
proud to say, doing a fine job of it."
Betty Davis, Annette's mother, looked shyly at the six-foot,
handsome, blond coach. He looked, she thought, like something
straight from a Hitler's Youth Group. Only when she realized he
was returning her stare did Betty drop her eyes.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, ends our parents' night
tour. If you'd like to stroll around, you're more than welcome.
Refreshments are in the auditorium upstairs."
Betty murmured a thank you to the principal with the other
parents, walking slowly around the gym and staring at nothing in
particular. She had been concerned about her daughter who, for
the past two weeks, had been acting very withdrawn.
Annette had always been somewhat quiet, especially since her
father's death three years ago. But, lately, her quietness had
become very disturbing. It was with this in mind that Betty came
to the parents' night to talk to the teachers. There had been no
clues.
Something was keeping her there at the gym, something she
could not understand. While the others drifted upstairs after a
while, Betty remained below, pretending to read the various scores
of athletic accomplishments on the bulletin board. She wasn't
surprised when, from the corner of one eye, she saw Coach Robinson
sauntering up to her, hands on his hips.
"Interested in sports?"
His masculine voice rolled over her, making her flesh tighten
and her nipples stand up like tin soldiers. Somehow Betty found
her voice, clearing her throat carefully first.
"Oh, just a little. I've been trying to get my daughter
interested in getting out a little--exercise and all that," Betty
said, noticing how much lower her voice was now as her excitement
gathered.
"That's good. A little exercise, of any sort, is good for
the body. Looks like you've been working out some," Jack said,
casting an appreciative glance over her body. "What's your name?"
"Oh, Betty Davis."
She was giggling like a schoolgirl. She saw he noticed her
nervousness. He was smiling, his red lips curling in sardonic
amusement as he talked. His straight white teeth gleamed like
polished ivory. Betty was aware that the last parent had left.
She should go upstairs or leave the area. Instead she stayed.
"You know, there's lots more here at the gym the principal
hasn't shown the others. You might be able to see some of it.
Some of the boys are coming down here for a late-night workout--
after the parents go. You might be interested in them."
Betty shook her head, holding her purse to her body. She
flashed her eyes over his body again. He was stocky, his chest so
thick and powerful. Then she dropped her eyes and saw that his
white gym shorts were pulled tight against his crotch, giving her
a clear impression of a thick roll of cockmeat.
"I ... I don't know if I should. My daughter ... she's at
home waiting for me and. And ..."
"Come on. It won't be for a long time. And besides, you'll
be getting a personalized tour from me."
Betty couldn't refuse. She felt his big paw-like hand
cupping around her neck, holding her prisoner as he guided her
across the brightly lit gym floor toward the office area. They
slipped past several doors, stopping at a tall green metal one.
"What's in here?"
She could barely get the words out. Her excitement was at a
fever pitch. Dimly, Betty was aware of Coach Robinson fishing out
a ring of keys and inserting one of them Into the lock. He took
her by the neck gently, guiding her into the darkened room. He
flashed on the lights.
There were several pulley devices screwed into the low
ceiling over head and four tall green metal cabinets standing side
by side, soldier-fashion, to her left. Three wooden chairs with
straps on the arm rests and legs were pushed together in the far
right corner.
"I ... I don't understand. Is this some kind of training
room?"
Jack laughed, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang.
Betty nearly jumped from her skin. He was putting the keys back
in the side pocket of his gym shorts. To her surprise that roll
of cockmeat was getting longer, pressing more firmly against the
front of his gym shorts.
"Kind of ... at least, that's what the school thinks. Some
of us around here, though, use it for something else."
Betty tilted her chin up defiantly, about to say something
that would make him release her. She was thirty-three, attractive
and a full adult. She would make him release her rather than
become involved in an increasingly awkward situation. She was
about to start for the door when Jack held one hand out to
restrain her.
"No going yet," he said firmly, the smile still on his lips.
"You and I have some serious playtime coming up. And if you're
real good, I'll let you play with some of my boys."
Betty gasped, nearly dropping her purse in shock. Wheeling
around, she was about to strike Jack when he grabbed her by the
wrists, twisting her arms down and around until the fingers
pressed hard against her lower back. The quick, violent action
sent a shock of agony racing through her shoulder and spine.
Betty dropped her purse, her knees buckling from the pain.
In a moment she found herself on her knees on the floor, Jack
still twisting her arm behind her and laughing at her escape
attempt.
"Now, you're not going to try to get away, are you?"
"What are you doing? You're crazy," she gasped, her head
dropping toward the floor.
Betty could hardly breathe because of the pain. Jack
loosened his grin, pulling Betty toward one of the cabinets. She
tried getting up, her feet tangling around one another. Coach
Robinson did nothing to help her. When they reached the first
cabinet, he let her go. The woman drew her injured hand close to
her body, staring up tearfully at him.
"This is gonna be good, uhh ... what's your name again?"
"Betty," the attractive blond said, pushing the hair from her
eyes.
"Betty," Jack said, cocking his head to one side. "Nice,
wholesome-sounding name. We're gonna do something that's not so
wholesome, though."
He opened the first cabinet and pulled out a large four-
legged bench, straps near the bottom and top of the forward legs.
"Of course, we've got to get you out of those clothes. Are
you going to strip, or do I have to pull them off you?"
"Take off ... take off my clothes?" Betty looked at the big
man incredulously. She backed away, shaking her head from side to
side.
"I'm not going to fuck you with all that on,"
Jack said.
"No, no, let me out of here!"
Jack dropped the bench, then approached her quickly. Betty
braced herself, drawing her arms up and clenching her fingers into
two fists. As he gathered her up in his arms, she began beating
him as hard as she could. It was futile. He laughed at her,
pulling her toward the bench, his hands gathering the loose
material of her dress. She could feel the hem line slipping past
her asscheeks. And then she felt his fingers caressing her
asscheeks, kneading the flesh through the thin nylon of her pink
panties.
"Now, gotta get these clothes off."
He fumbled with he buttons, tearing some, opening the others.
In a moment, she felt the dress slipping from around her shoulders
and down to the floor. She was still in his arms, dressed only in
her bra and panties.
"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.
