When Rita and the old man had caught their breaths, Doc spoke to her through the microphone: "Get up and put on your mink coat.”
She shuddered, rising unsteadily on her long legs. Doc savored thoughts of their meeting again after so many years. The tall, voluptuous widow would probably not recognize him at first.
He'd become a man repugnant to most women. In prison, his once-handsome face became thin and tightly drawn-a skull covered with taut skin so pale and thin it hardly seemed to be there at all. Emotional stress and poor diet had cost him his hair. Doc Watson was now completely bald. Even his eyebrows and lashes were gone. No hair grew on his chest or in his armpits, and none matted the bony ridge above his magnificent big cock.
Watson had also lost all his teeth. He wore prison-made dentures of stainless steel. Crazed by vengeful rage, he'd filed the silver-bright artificial teeth pointed and sharp so that now they looked like fangs.
The final grotesque touch was a hideous scar that began above his left eye, slanting out and curving down his cheek to the corner of his mouth. His warped, taut-lipped grin seemed to reach his forehead on the left side.
That scar was the result of a prison knife fight. A huge inmate had attacked him with a sharpened spoon handle, determined to beat Doc's ass his first day inside the bleak walls. Watson survived the slashing cut and beat the horny convict badly with a broken chair leg. That saved his ass but extended his sentence to twenty years, time all spent in solitary confinement-a lot of time to carefully plot his fiendish revenge.
Rita picked up the panties and bra she'd discarded and then looked around for her blouse. Doc thumbed the button on his control box and clamped the glittering necklace tight enough to stop her breath.
"Just put on your coat," he said. "Where you're going, you won't need the rest of your clothes. You'll be stark naked again soon enough.”
She shivered and cringed, not warmed at all by the luxurious fur wrapped and held snug around her ripe body. The sleek satin lining felt cold as ice against her bare skin.
"Get in your fancy car and drive to the corner of Third and Front Street," he told her. "Our old neighborhood.” "Oh, no. Not there! It's become a terrible slum!” "You don't have to tell me, I live near there now. Ex-cons aren't welcome in the nicer parts of town.” "B-b-but a woman alone isn't safe on Front Street," she moaned.
"You won't be alone. Dad will pick me up in his old truck and we'll follow to stay within range of the transceiver in your ear.” "What good will that do if I'm attacked?” "It will let us enjoy your torment. Now get going, bitch! There are men waiting along the waterfront who would happily kill for that mink coat and the rich beauty inside.”
Rita Wallford drove her classic gull-wing-doored Mercedes toward Front Street. She thought of using the mobile phone to call the police, but she knew Doc could hear every word she said. He would surely strangle her before help arrived.
She fumed in helpless frustration. This bizarre form of bondage made her blood run cold. Rita and her departed husband had often enjoyed innocent games of restraint to heighten their sexual pleasure. He would bind her to their bed with loosely tied ropes and flail her naked body with a soft whip.
Of course Doc knew that. He had the whole house bugged with miniature transmitters. She cringed at thoughts of things he'd overheard and knew what what he had in mind for her would not be painless, pretended bondage.
He was taking her back to the old neighborhood where their lives had begun. How strangely fitting that he had chosen a spectacular diamond necklace as the instrument of control. Since the days of her impoverished upbringing, Rita had been obsessed with luxurious things.
To own more of the lovely status symbols she craved, Rita had joined and supported her husband's plan to frame Doc and take control of the company they'd founded together.
They began manufacturing Doc's then-unheard-of miniature electronic inventions in an old warehouse on Front Street at Third.
"That's far enough," Doc said sharply. She was nearing Third. "Park the car, get out and walk down Front Street.” "Don't make me do this," she pleaded desperately. "Fuck me if you want. Take everything I own and make me your slave, but don't make me get out of the car here!” "You're already my slave," Doc said sternly, "and I'm telling you to get out and walk!" he tightened the necklace to make it plain that that was an order she must obey.
Rita cringed as she stepped out of the car. All of Front Street was now a bleak concrete canyon of poverty and bitter despair.
Wallford Electronics and other factories had long ago moved to more modern industrial parks on the outskirts of town, leaving the heart of the city to decay. It smelled worst than the gardener's sweaty crotch had.
Hawk-eyed men in ragged clothes leered hotly at the red-haired goddess of wealth who was naked and trembling beneath the folds of luxurious mink she kept tightly wrapped around her luscious curves.
She had not walked half a block when a dozen leather-vested members of an outlaw motorcycle gang surrounded her outside the rundown building that was their headquarters. Rita recognized the place at once. It was the bar where she used to dance and serve drinks, the place where she had met Wallford and hatched the scheme to frame his partner.
She had insisted on marriage before giving her body to the greedy businessman. Others had sampled her cunt, but Wallford was then a young tycoon on the rise. Holding out for a wedding ring and supporting the plot to get rid of his partner had seemed like a good idea then.
The motorcycle gang leader was a huge man with a leering dark eyes set deep in a face marked with scars and a badly broken nose. Coarse, wiry black hair matted the barrel chest that was naked except for his grimy leather vest.
He glared down at her ashen face with a lewd grin that showed two rows of stained and broken teeth. Tall and powerfully built, he looked like a bear standing on its hind legs…
"Where you going all dolled up in diamonds and furs?" he asked coldly.
Rita stood just an inch under six feet tall in her high-heeled shoes, but he towered over her, spittle dripping down from the corners of his mouth.
"You ain't answered my question," he said impatiently. A ham-sized hand went to her throat. Huge fingers fondled the diamonds admiringly.
Rita panicked. If he grabbed the expensive gems and broke the wire, a deadly poison would be injected into her neck.
"Don't touch that!" she cried. "Please-” "You got something else I'd rather have?" he asked roughly. "Like maybe a pair of big lush tits under all that slinky fur?”
Without waiting for a reply, he ran his hands down her chest and squeezed her tender tits. She groaned. One big hairy hand completely covered each fur-sheathed tit. He milked and mauled her tits until she wanted to scream.
Rita clamped her eyes shut and shed tears of remorse. She knew Doc Watson and his father must be watching, greatly enjoying her distress, "You got a nice set of knockers," the gang leader said with a rush of hot breath. "Real nice!" He whirled his thumbs in the silky dark mink and teased her nipples into aching hardness.
She felt a sickening pulse in the depths of her pussy. Rita's ripe body responded to the rough stimulation her mind detested. Her nipples bulged and tingled with heat. Her pussy leaked.
“I’ll be God damned! She ain't got a thing on under that fancy coat!" The circle of menacing faces shifted around her so all of the members could get a good look.
Rita heard one of them say, "She must be one of them pampered rich bitches who can't get enough cock from her sugar daddy.”
A willowy blonde wearing only a studded black leather vest above her waist came up behind Rita. She swept the woman's red-golden hair aside and stroked long hard fingers down her back to feel the silky mink. "Is that it, bitch? Some fat old man gives you everything but a big cock?”
Rita couldn't get a word out of her tight throat. The brawny biker dropped a hairy hand to her tawny pussy mound and wiggled his middle finger into her wet cunt.
"Must be," he concluded. "She's hot and wet enough to fuck already!”
The hard-faced willowy blonde standing behind Rita was fondly stroking the sleek fur over the woman's ripe ass. "Hey, Griz," she said to the leader. "Make her give me that beautiful mink. I've always wanted to know what it's like being a rich bitch.” "Take it, Honey. With what I got in mind for her, a long black coat would only get in the way.”
Rita moaned and clamped her arms to keep at least something over her soft, sleek curves. But the grinning blonde pulled and wrenched her arms, working the fur coat off her back.
The woman stood naked and trembling, her whole body blushed red with shame. The blonde they called Honey gave a laugh that was anything but sweet.
Griz and the other horny bikers paid no attention to Honey. Their eyes were all on Rita.
"Take her inside," he said. "We're all gonna give this cock-seeking cutey what she came for.”
Rita cried as they pushed her through the broken door of the old barroom where she used to work. The shabby stage where she once danced still occupied the far end of the dim-lit main room.
A long bar with a scarred top stood on her right. More rough-looking bikers lounged against it. A girl was down on her knees before one of them. She was stark naked, forced lo kneel because her arms had been yanked behind her and bound to her ankles.
She was sucking one of three naked cocks lined up to feel the pleasure of her quivering lips. Raven-black hair streamed and swirled across her back as her head bobbed.
Her back was ablaze with stinging red welts still so fresh that Rita could almost feel the heat as she passed. A spreading puddle of cum gleamed pearly bright on the rough plank floor between the girl's bound legs. More spunk dripped from the bruised lips of her cunt as she swayed and sucked. She'd apparently been whipped to submission and fucked overly full. Rita winced at the sight, fearfully pondering her own fate.
"We caught us a more willing pussy this time," Griz said to the members inside. "She came down to the waterfront dressed like a rich whore just begging for cock!” "No," Rita said. "I was forced to do this!”
Griz laughed uproariously. "Forced by what, the heat of your cunt?” "The man who gave me the necklace," she moaned, trying to explain.
"A necklace ain't all he gave you?" Griz held the finger he'd had in her cunt beneath his nose. "Your pussy is wet with stale cum. That wasn't enough for you, so you came slumming to get more hot meat into your gash.” "I didn't," she sobbed.
The leering gang members were all laughing so hard it was useless to say more. Despite that, she could hear Doc Watson's voice clearly.
"Now you know what it's like when false evidence is all stacked against you," he said with a fiendish delight.
Rita sighed, grimly resigning herself to the inevitable gang rape. She decided to submit willingly and spare herself a brutal whipping. Her scowl of protest warmed into a seductive smile.
"Griz is right," she said in a strained voice.*Tm hot enough to fuck you all. Who wants to be first?”
Doc's scratchy voice said, "No, Rita! That would be too easy. I want you to resist!” "I can't," she whispered softly so that only he could hear.
"You will if you want to breathe!”
"They might kill me!” "No, they'll only make you wish you were dead. Griz is the leader so he'll want you first. When he gets close enough, you are going to knee him in the balls as hard as you can!” "N-n-no!" Rita hated to think of the awful wrath that would bring down. But her fear* of the choking necklace was worse. Doc was viciously cruel enough to let her suffer death by slow strangulation. At least the motorcycle gang members would keep her alive until they'd all fucked her at least once.
Griz ambled toward her with his hairy arms outstretched. "So, the fine lady is nothing but a fancy slut-unnngh!”
He reeled back with a bellow of pain. Rita's knee had flashed up to sink into his groin. Griz turned enough to partially block her crippling kick with his hard-muscled thigh, but his balls still felt mangled and about to explode with burning pain.
He hunched and cradled his battered ball sac in both hands. "Damn you!”
Rita whirled to make a dash for the door, but two rough bikers grabbed her arms. She kicked at one and clawed the other like an alley cat. Their hands clamped hard on her flailing arms and restrained her.
"You're gonna wish you'd been a willing bitch," one snarled. Rita sobbed in anguish. She already knew that, but Doc Watson had planned her torture well.
“Chain her!” Griz said with a deep grunt of pain. “Honey, get your whip!”
The ragged curtain parted and they dragged Rita upon stage. A length of heavy steel chain dangled from the loft above. It ended with a pair of manacles shaped like a figure eight that would lock her wrists together.
The cold steel jaws were forced around her wrists and snapped shut with a harsh metallic click. Rita thought of the sound made by the sinister necklace when she had first put it on. Her fear and feeling of helplessness brought shivers.
She heard the squeal of a metal crank and the clacking sound of a ratchet. The chain dangling at center stage pulled tighter. Her steel-shackled wrist were hauled above her head. Rita sobbed and shed bitter tears while the crank turned. She could barely reach the stage floor on tiptoes.
The willowy blonde who'd taken her mink coat stalked toward her with a coiled whip in hand. She looked almost ludicrous wearing the elegant fur with high black motorcycle boots. Honey glared and let the braided lash uncoil.
"Spit and call her a stinking slut," Doc whispered hoarsely in Rita's ear.
"Nnnooo!”
"Do it!” "Aaaggghhhh!" Rita felt the necklace tighten until she hacked a sticky load of phlegm into her mouth. She spit hard and screamed, "Stinking slut!”
The girl leaped back with cat-like quickness. Rita's spit only splattered the floor, but the words made Honey hiss with rage.
"Your sloppy whore's cunt must be big enough to fuck a fire plug!" Rita said on command.
The black bullwhip hissed and cracked sharply behind the snarling blonde's head. Then it blurred forward and coiled around Rita's waist like a boa constrictor. Honey yanked on the handle and pulled the braided lash like a top siring. Rita started spinning with dizzying speed.
Her tawny hair swirled and her vision blurred. Honey stepped back and cracked the whip twice in rapid succession. Rita felt a sting of hot pain in the crack of her ass, then another that spread fiery heat across her pussy mound as she whirled. A long, tortured wail ripped from her lips.
"It's going to be a real pleasure peeling the hide off your back," Honey said. "You're gonna feel like one of the minks that got skinned to make your fancy coat!”
The whip cracked again and left a blazing red welt that striped the whole length of Rita's writhing back. Her wail of torment shrilled louder.
Rita's metal-bound wrists sparked pain that ran down the whole length of her arms. Her shoulders wrenched and strained, forced to support almost her whole weight. She screamed and whirled in a lewd pirouette of pain.
"Beg Griz and all the other guys to fuck you when you want me to stop," Honey said.
"Don't say a word," Doc's voice hissed in her ear.
The whip hissed and came forward in a sinuous curve like a striking snake. It bit one of Rita's lush tits with pain that made Rita feel like her nipple had been torn off. It had only broken the skin and bloodied her nipple tip, but Rita was too dizzy to know that.
"Beg for twenty hot cocks before I bloody your other tit!" Honey said.
Rita choked back a sob to snarl, "I'm not a cheap, gutter-crawling cunt like you.” "No, you're worse!" Honey's limber arm hurled the lash forward again. It struck Rita's other tit and splashed traces of blood. Pain like a red-hot knife sank into her tits.
"Whip her cunt," Griz commanded. "I want her to bleed like a virgin when I ram my cock in.
The sharp-tipped leather tongue struck Rita's juicy clit bud. She felt a shock of pain that triggered cunt tremors like an orgasm, but ten times more intense.
"Beg to fuck Griz and all the guys before I whip your cunt into raw meat!” "Tell them all to fuck knotholes in the floor," Doc demanded. "Honey hasn't had enough fun with you yet.”
Rita said the words and shivered in anticipation of even worse pain.
But Honey laughed and said, "You don't remember me, do you? I was only a year old when you had my dad sent away… a cute little tyke with golden blonde curls and tears in her innocent blue eyes.” "Oooooh, nnnooo!" Rita moaned.
"Things went to hell when they took my father away on charges you helped trump-up." The leather hissed and striped searing hot pain across Rita's ass. “Mom got tired of waiting for him and married a man who didn't want kids.”
Another stinging loud crack echoed in the hush that had fallen over the room. Rita's juicy cunt was ravaged with another whip-induced climax of almost-unbearable pain.
"I got dumped into a foster home and was fucked by my substitute father.”
Honey punctuated her story with more vicious strokes of the lash that left Rita too weak to scream. She blubbered and begged to be forgiven, but Doc would not let her beg for the fucking that would end her stinging torment.
"I told my foster mother what he'd done and she challenged the old man. That got us both whipped bloody, bound to the bed and fucked side-by-side.”
Rita cringed violently, pained by more than her blazing welts. She was thinking about her own teenaged daughters, innocent and starry-eyed girls. Now she knew it would take a miracle to save them from the bitter wrath of the Watson family.
"I can make up for all that," Rita whined, afraid the necklace would tighten before she finished her desperate plea. "I'll give the you the kind of life you've always dreamed of!” "I'd rather give you the kind of life you've always deserved.”
The long whip hissed and coiled snake-like around Rita's slender waist. Honey gave it a hard yank and started the woman spinning again.
"Dance like the prick-teasing bitch you used to be!" the willowy blonde raged. "Twitch your ass and make your titties bounce. I won't stop whipping your ass until I see a blue-veined boner on every guy in this room!”
They slackened the chain just enough to let Rita get her feet on the floor. She choked back sobs of hysteria and started to dance… knowing she had no other choice.