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"With that, Carol's face turned red from embarrassment while Linda's was getting red with anger. Joy saw their reaction, then leaned forward and took both their hands and led them towards the stairs. When they entered the play room, Carol could not believe what she saw. First, she saw her mother over in a corner, kneeling over what appeared to be a floor drain. She was totally naked, had her hands cuffed behind her back and her ankles locked together. She also wore a large yellow ring gag in her mouth and a yellow collar around her neck. And there was a short chain which ran from her collar to the wall behind her butt. But the amazing thing was she had the word 'PISS' written on her left tit and the word 'WHORE' written on her right one.Then, Carol was able to see that behind each seat at the poker table were spanking rails. Each one was about six feet long and about four feet high and had two sets of wrist and ankle cuffs bolted to the floor. She realized that any woman bent over the. Shocked me so much the fact she was lying right by me just a bikini on was no longer an issue. In this magazine she showed me what she was reading, an article about cock sizes and shapes. "Can you believe the things they print" she said. I agreed, but I just couldn't believe the fact my Mother in Law is pretty much talking about cock sizes to me! As I returned back to the garden I jokingly said to her "oh, and by the way, the biggest one, of course" cheekily grinned, she just laughed.My last duty was to cut some branches off the tree that required ladders. She came over and held the ladders for me as I cut the branches down. These were step ladders, I was half way up then she was opposite me holding them, as I was cutting I realised her head was at waist level and only about 12inches away. It felt like eternity I was up there, in reality it was probably only a minute or so. I was just thinking any error or slight movement and I could be in more of an embarrassing position than the.
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I wanted to run, but my legs were wooden, as wooden as the legs on the thing. He called it a horse that is not what I would have called it. He stood me beside it. “Stay.” He talked to me as he would that old flea bitten dog of his. I stayed, my eyes sad as I looked up at him, silently pleading for consideration. How could he have been so tender to me only minutes ago and now he was, going to, — to what? What was he going to do to me? I lifted my cuffed hands to my mouth in horror brushing my wounded chained nipples. Ripples of pain ran through me settling into the center of my groin, deep into the very core of my womanhood. My hands visibly shook, my nerves were so on edge. A perplexed shadow crossed my face, how is it possible that could I feel my labia flutter in response to the pain. It certainly could not be the thought of what he was going to do to me that elicited the response, could it? He busied himself in the storage area of the examination table. I felt his eyes on me, I.

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