Mother In Bondage - Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT
    
    “You filthy pigs!” Gl­enda screamed, spring­ing up to her feet.
    Sam was too slow, and he felt the full brunt of Gl­enda’s sud­den at­tack. She scratched his face, peel­ing a much skin as she could off with her sharp fin­ger­nails.
    “AH­H­H­H­HGH­HHH!” the fat man screeched, try­ing to cover his face as Sid and George pulled the wo­man away from him.
    “I’ll teach you, you bitch!” Sam howled a blood trickled down his chin. “Come on, Sid.”
    Sam reached out and grabbed his part­ner by the right arm. George still held Gl­enda tightly to his body, pin­ning her arms back as she swore and kicked and spat like a wild wo­man. Alana gone in­sane! Their lives were about to end in this toi­let of de­prav­ity! She couldn’t let them do whatever they pleased without her put­ting up a fight. If they wanted her to lay her head on the block without a fight, they had an­other thing com­ing!
    “We’ve got the money. All you have to do is fin­ish up here,” Gl­enda heard a fa­mil­iar voice.
    As Sam pushed the big wooden doom open, two things caught Gl­enda’s eyes and made her gasp. The first was her own horse Des­troyer that was be­ing led into the stable. The second was Peter Thomas fol­low­ing the stable mas­ter.
    “Peter!” Gl­enda cried out in sur­prise. At first, she thought he was here to help her. But one look at his face told her dif­fer­ently.
    “I’m sorry about all this, Gl­enda. But it just had to end this way,” Peter said, stand­ing by the door­way and fold­ing his hands across his chest.
    “Oh, Peter. Are you be­hind all this?” Gl­enda wailed out, keep­ing a close eye on the horse and Sam.
    “I’ve been be­hind it all the time. I needed the money, Gl­enda. Gambling put me in debt with the wrong kind of people. They’re the kind that send you swim­ming out in the ocean with a con­crete pair of shoes,” Peter said, mo­tion­ing to Sam to get it over with quickly.
    “What are you go­ing to do with him?” Gl­enda asked in a shaky voice as George pressed his stiff­en­ing black cock against her plump as­s­cheeks.
    “It’s not my idea, Gl­enda,” Peter said, shift­ing his eyes down ad star­ing at the ground in front of him. “But Sam’s the boss here. After you’re through with the horse, I’m afraid that well have to take care of you and your daugh­ter. In her case, it’ll be a bless­ing.”
    Peter looked at the young girl. Alana was squat­ting on the ground now, her eyes wide open and star­ing blankly in front of her as she babbled sense­less phrases over and over.
    Gl­enda cried and sobbed, cov­er­ing her face with both hands as she felt the snort­ing an­imal’s prick­head swell up and push against her pain­fully stretched pussy walls.
    Gl­enda groaned in hor­ror, grip­ping her cum slicked belly as she felt her stom­ach racked by pain­ful dry heaves.
    In the back­ground she could hear Alana laugh­ing and shriek­ing. But this time, there was an­other voice scream­ing. It was Florence’s. Then came the sounds of shout­ing male voices.
    Gl­enda opened her eyes. Alana had turned into a com­plete wild wo­man with the strength of ten men. She was chok­ing Florence, dig­ging her fin­gers into the black wo­man’s throat as George and Sid tried to pry her off.
    The bru­nette rolled to the right just in time. Startled by all the sud­den scream­ing and move­ment, Des­troyer bolted for­ward to­ward the half-opened door.
    “Look out!” Sid cried.
    But it was too late. Sam’s back was to the an­imal as he was run­ning to help George and Sid. Gl­enda saw that last look of sur­prise in the sta­ble­mas­ter’s eyes as the big horse trampled him.
    Peter was stand­ing in the door­way, pet­ri­fied by what had happened. His eyes widened with ter­ror as Des­troyer headed for him in his wild way to es­cape.
    “Nooo!” the law­yer cried, hold­ing the briefcase filled with the money.
    Gl­enda watched in hor­ror as the air was filled with hun­dred-dol­lar bills and the gurg­ling sounds of Peter Thomas be­ing trampled un­der­foot.
    “My God!” George cried as the big horse fi­nally lumbered his way out of the stable and ran crazily in the front area near the stable.
    Gl­enda pain­fully raised her­self to her feet and staggered to­ward her daugh­ter who by now had left the chok­ing black wo­man’s neck and re­sumed her former quiet, bab­bling state. George took his wife by the arms and dragged her out of the stable. His cock still dangled out of his opened fly as he dis­ap­peared into the night.
    Sid had bolted out after George and Florence, run­ning quickly into the black coun­tryside.
    Gl­enda stumbled out of the door­way and looked around, real­iz­ing only now that she was back in her own es­tate. She looked around the fa­mil­iar ground. There was Des­troyer, calm now and graz­ing lazily on the tall grass near by. He was com­pletely un­aware of the carnage he caused in­side the stable.
    Be­hind her, Gl­enda could still hear Alana bab­bling to her­self. It was a while be­fore the dazed wo­man real­ized that there was a group of shout­ing, run­ning people head­ing to­ward her. Gl­enda shook her head and saw that Brad headed the group, fol­lowed by sev­eral po­lice and Hilda.
    “Mrs. Wil­li­ams!” Brad cried out.
    Gl­enda looked at him as he ran up to her. A large white band­age was over his fore­head, and his left arm was in a sling.
    “Brad?” Gl­enda said in a strangely calm voice. “They thought I was dead,” Brad gasped out, try­ing to catch his breath as the po­lice ran into the stable and Hilda men­tioned some­thing about try­ing to find a cloth to cover Gl­enda’s nude body. “I saw Sam kid­nap Alana when I went look­ing for her. He knocked me out so hard that I guess he thought I was a goner. He and some guy dumped me down the well on the Holmes ranch. But I man­aged to crawl out and go for the cops.” Brad looked at the still-dazed Gl­enda. Only now did he see that her body was scarred. “Je­sus, what did they do to you?”
    “Diddle-diddle dump­ling…” Alana screamed, break­ing out into wild laughter as two po­lice­men held her arms and led her out into the still night air.
    “Je­sus!” Brad said, star­ing at the shriek­ing girl. “It was all Peter’s idea,” Gl­enda said mech­an­ic­ally.
    “He needed money, and guess he was too ashamed to ask for it or some­thing. He de­vised this whole wild kid­nap scheme to get at my money. He sold him­self out to Sam, let­ting him do this…” Gl­enda nod­ded to­ward Alana “…this to us so he could get the com­bin­a­tion of the wall safe where the rest of the money was. Oh God, it’s so sick and con­fus­ing!” Gl­enda covered her face with both hands.
    “We heard about this club of weirdoes be­fore, Mrs. Wil­li­ams. This time we’ve got you to help break it up,” the chief of po­lice said.
    “What does it mat­ter any more?” Gl­enda said softly as she watched the po­lice gently put Alana into the patrol car that had just pulled up. “What does it mat­ter?”
    “They’ll be pun­ished,” the man said calmly.
    “Pun­ished?” Gl­enda asked, turn­ing her head up and look­ing ques­tion­ingly at the po­lice cap­tain. “Pun­ished?” she said again, her lower lip trem­bling.
    Then Gl­enda felt her stom­ach knot up as she broke into a loud fit of wild laughter. The flash­ing red lights of the cruis­ers lit up the night as Gl­enda laughed and laughed and laughed.
    THE END