Brad's Revenge

"Sara Harper Conley, Your daughter's fate is under my control. With your busy life of spa treatments and spending your husband's money, you lost close contact with her over the last few months. She has dropped out of school due to a nasty drug habit and is selling her sexy little body to pay for it. Her body is adorned with tattoos and piercings at my request. She has not been forced or coerced into any of this. It was all of her own free will. Sara, this email is to inform you that Ashley is about to be arrested on serious drug charges. If this happens, she will go away for a long time. I have the power to make sure this does not occur. I do not want money. I want you to trade your freedom for your daughter's. View the photos I have attached. Contact your daughter. Verify what I have written. If you make any attempt to try to hide her or send her out of the country, I will make sure both of you see jail time. I will contact you again by email after you have verified this."

Sara stared at the monitor in disbelief. Nausea overwhelmed her as she rushed to the toilet and threw up. She cleaned herself up and quickly dressed. It was time to find out the truth about her precious daughter.

---

Sara Conley walked into her beautiful house and collapsed on the sofa. Tears of exhaustion and frustration streamed down her face as she had discovered that her worse fears were true. And, worst of all, was that Ashley seemed to be almost happy with her new life. She stood up slowly and poured herself a tumbler of vodka over ice.

She sat down at her computer again and checked her email. Another email from her daughter.

"Sara Harper Conley, You now know the truth. Your daughter will be arrested tomorrow night as she transports a large quantity of cocaine for her supplier. As cute as she is, I am sure she will be a very popular piece of ass in prison. Whether or not this happens is up to you.

You will leave a note to your husband that you are going out of town for a few days. You will pack a suitcase and go to the Bluebird Inn on Highway 95. Do not go to the front desk. Go directly to room 6. It will be unlocked. Once there, follow the directions you find to the letter. You have until 5PM tomorrow. Ashley's fate is up to you."

Sara held her head in shock. She thought back over what she had discovered the last few days. She loved Ashley as only a mother can. If she had to spend a few nights getting fucked by some crooked vice cop to save her, she would. Sara downed the last of the vodka and walked downstairs for a refill.

---

Brad backed the borrowed van up to room six at the Bluebird Inn. He smiled as he remembered the last time he was there. He had been watching Sara on his laptop via the hidden camera he had placed in the room earlier. He had laughed at her struggles to do as she was directed. But finally, she was ready.

He walked into the room and felt himself stiffen at the sight before him. Sara lay on her side on top of the bed. A thick padded blindfold covered her eyes. A black ball gag was jammed between her perfect teeth. Brad smiled at the drool collecting on the shabby bedspread. She had placed metal cuffs on her ankles, cuffed her wrists behind her back with similar cuffs and had a short chain between the two sets of cuffs placing her in a loose hogtie. She was nude with her clothes neatly folded in a chair.

Brad stood still watching her nude body struggle with her chains as she heard him enter. All those school years fantasizing about what she would look like, then even more years wanting to see her helpless like this. Now he knew. His mouth grew dry as he reached out and touched her pedicured toe. She wiggled away from his touch.

Brad slid his hand up her freshly waxed calf and thigh. He smiled as she struggled to move away when he touched her freshly shaved mons. He knew it was freshly shaved because he had just watched via his monitor as she shaved her pussy just as he had directed.

His hand brushed over her taut abdomen and came to rest on her pale breasts. Brad pinched a dark brown nipple until she moaned into her gag. She felt his breath against her ear. "Your ass is mine, bitch. Do exactly as I say without hesitation. Disobey and you will be disciplined." With that he cruelly twisted her erect nipple between his strong fingers until she screamed into the gag. Sara was still moaning when he injected the sedative into her butt cheek. Once she was unconscious, he loaded her up in the van and covered her with a tarp. After removing her purse and clothes and cleaning the room, Brad left Dante's boys the key to her Mercedes on the front seat and drove off in the van.

---

Sara woke up slowly. Her head pounded and she felt hung over. She sat up quickly, remembering the motel. She immediately noticed the thick, black leather cuffs locked on her wrists and ankles. Her fingers reached up to tug at the snug leather collar around her neck. Sara's blue eyes widened in horror as she took in her surroundings. She was sitting on a narrow metal cot covered by a thin, dirty mattress. She was in a six by eight foot cell with ceiling, floor and three walls made of concrete. The fourth wall was formed of thick metal bars spaced eight inches apart and a hinged door of the same material.

Sara rushed to the door and pounded the bars in frustration as she realized it was solidly locked. As she looked around the large room outside of her cell, her nude body shivered in fear. She recognized some of the stuff from a book she had once read. Large pieces of solid wood with chains and hooks everywhere. One wall was covered in whips and canes and leather pieces.

A large wooden "X" leaned against one wall. One corner looked like a doctor's office complete with exam table and stirrups. Looking up she saw heavy chains and coarse rope extending from exposed wooden beams. Sara collapsed back on her cot and sobbed.

Although Sara had lost all track of time, two days had gone by since she first woke up in her cell. With no food or water, she was weak and shaky as she lay on her cot wondering if she was going to die. She had finally been forced to piss in the red plastic bucket in the corner of her cell. It was either that or the floor she had figured.

Sara sat upright as she heard the black metal door across from her cell creak open. Her knees were pulled up to her chest giving her some degree of decency. A hooded man walked into the dungeon carrying two bowls. Wearing a black t-shirt and shorts, she could tell that his body was muscled and athletic. He sat the two bowls on the floor just outside of her cell. He turned and sat in a leather chair near her cell.

"I bet you are thirsty, Sara. Get down on your belly and there is a space for your head to fit through." She hesitantly looked at the man but the thirst overcame her modesty. She quickly had her head through the tight hole in the bars and realized she would have to lap up the cool water like a dog. As she greedily drank, the man continued.

"Ashley is safe, Sara. Just like I promised. But that will continue only as long as you do as you are told. Of course, that alone may not be incentive enough for you to behave. That is why you are wearing the collar." He pulled a black remote from his pocket and pushed a button. Sara immediately screamed and banged her head against the bars in surprise as the collar painfully shocked her.

"That was set on level two. There are ten levels. The highest level will incapacitate you for a few minutes. In case you're wondering, it is a puppy training collar that I modified for your pretty neck. You disobey, you get shocked, simple as that." The hooded man moved the water bowl and placed a bowl of cold oatmeal under her nose. "Lick it clean, bitch. If you don't, you get nothing to eat tomorrow," he laughed.

As the starving woman lapped up the tasteless gruel with her tongue, the man resumed. "Tomorrow we begin the punishment part of your time here with me. Each day you will be treated to a different form of punishment. I am an expert on ways to torment the female body. You will know pain. How much pain depends on you. Oh, and in case you are wondering, there will never be an opportunity for escape. These walls are made of thick concrete and are soundproof. No one will hear your screams."

With that he placed the water bowl beneath her nose and walked to the steel door. "Goodnight, my little bitch. Dream of me tonight," he said as he closed the door behind him.

---

Brad slept late the next morning. Seeing Sara was almost more than he could stand. He had been up late watching her on the various cameras he had set up in his basement. He tugged on the black hood and entered the basement. "Good morning, Sara. Here's breakfast." He dropped another bowl of oatmeal at her hole as she sat on her mattress staring at him.

"Okay, you don't want to eat, no problem. You look like you could miss a few meals." She glared at him as he tossed two locks and a short length of chain through the bars. "The chain goes through the rings on your ankle cuff and then locks. Then put your arms behind your back and lock your wrists together."

After a few tries, Sara managed to do as he asked. Once he was satisfied, he unlocked the cell door and motioned for her to walk out. She hesitated until she received a shock on her collar. As she hobbled to him, she suddenly spat at his hooded face. The hooded man looked at her smug expression and slapped her with his open hand. Sara's face exploded in pain and she almost fell over. He caught her by the hair and backhanded her other cheek just as viciously.

With her face red and swollen and blood trickling from her nose, he marched her to a wooden pillory. He unlocked her wrist cuffs and bent her over, placing her wrists and neck in the three openings. The sadistic man then quickly shut the top piece of the pillory immobilizing her neck and wrists. After locking it tight, he moved a wooden sawhorse under her frame. He then pushed it until the sawhorse touched her thighs. This caused her to have to stand on her tiptoes. He then unlocked her ankle cuffs and chained them to the legs of the horse.

He stepped back to admire his work. With her upper body trapped in the pillory and her hips balanced on the sawhorse, her ass was in perfect position. He ran a rope around her waist fastening her to the saw horse. He reached under her, squeezing and pinching her pendulous breasts. "I was just going to focus on your ass today, bitch. But after you spit in my face, I decided your perfect tits need some attention too."

With that he fastened a latex tipped clothespin to each erect nipple. She screamed and tried to move but all she succeeded in doing was shaking her "C" cups back and forth.

"Today, we are going to punish your ass. As you know you can't move and your sweet little ass is stuck up in the air. We are through for the day when my arm tires out. First up, the paddle." With that he swatted her left cheek with a leather paddle, causing her pale skin to redden instantly. He alternated cheeks until they both glowed. Sara yelped and screamed as he punished her defenseless ass and thighs with the paddle, then crops and floggers and an old English tawse.

Halfway through the ordeal he knelt under her and removed the nipple clamps. Her screams echoed in the basement with the sudden surge of pain. They were then expertly placed back on her nipples ninety degrees from where they were originally placed causing an increase in her pain.

He put the tawse up and checked on her. Snot ran from her nose and tears ran down her bruised face. Her voice was ragged from screaming. The sadist smiled at her helplessness and clipped an eight ounce weight on each nipple clamp. As Sara moaned in pain, he picked up the collection of bamboo canes.

"Now, my little bitch, the cane. I expect you will pass out," he coolly stated as the first slash of the cruel instrument landed in that sensitive area where her cheek meets her thigh. Her screams became high pitched. "Oh, please, nuh-no more, please. I'll do anything you ask!"

"Yes, you will, cunt," he replied as the second stripe landed a few millimeters from the first one. After over fifty slashes with the bamboo canes, Sara passed out from the pain. The sadistic man ran his hand over her tortured flesh. Her ass was very hot and exhibited a wide variety of colors from red to purple to black on her once alabaster skin. Welts rose angrily up on her thighs and ass. Sara's skin was broken and bleeding in several spots where two stripes crisscrossed each other. He quickly removed the clamps from her abused nipples and released her from the pillory. He carried her to her cell and dumped her unconscious body on the cot. But before he left her cell, two fingers were slipped inside a surprisingly tight and very wet pussy. He laughed to himself as he slammed the door shut.

---

Sara awoke slowly in her small cell. Her body ached in ways she was unfamiliar with. Her ass and thighs felt like one giant bruise. As she rolled off the bed several areas stung where the skin was broken. Her beautiful nipples were swollen and too sensitive to even touch. She walked to her bucket and painfully squatted over it to pee. Sara was very thirsty but knew that getting a drink meant lying on those sore nipples.

As Sara contemplated the consequences of getting a drink, the door opened. The hooded man walked over to a large piece of equipment and pushed it near a winch on the ceiling. He tossed a single lock to her. "Wrists behind your back, cunt," he snapped. She quickly complied as he opened her cell door.

"Kneel here, bitch," he said as he pointed to a spot in front of the large wooden object. He expertly bound each breast very tightly with supple leather straps. Sara's breasts looked and felt like they might explode. He quickly fastened the free ends of the leather straps to the overhead winch. As he started the winch, Sara realized his sadistic intent... she was going to be lifted off the ground by her tits!

Sara stood up as the winch went higher. The winch suddenly lifted her off her tiptoes and she felt as if her breasts were being ripped off. The sadist watched her closely, grinning as her breasts turned an ugly purplish color. With her feet about three feet off the floor, he pushed the apparatus between her dangling legs. Sara tried to find a foothold on the slick wood to get her weight off of her breasts but could not.

Sara looked down in horror at her purplish breasts and then at the evil thing between her legs. It was basically a triangular block of wood with the point of the triangle pointed up straight at her crotch. As her tormentor lowered the winch, Sara quickly realized that her entire weight would be resting on her groin which would be resting on the narrow wooden angle. Soon enough she felt each labia slip to one side as her pussy contacted the wood. The hooded man stepped up on a ladder and quickly released her tits. He then loosely chained her wrists to a metal pole behind her, so that she could not support any of her weight with her hands.

As he loosely chained her dangling ankles, splayed apart by the angle of the wood she was sitting on, he spoke. "This, my little bitch, is what is known as the wooden pony. It is a very old punishment. As I am sure you can already tell, you can only sit for a minute or so in any one spot before the pain gets too intense. Then you must move by trying to push up with your legs which are almost useless on the slick wood. After a while, when there are no more spots that aren't tender, it looks like you are riding a horse. Thus, the name."

He pulled the leather chair in front of her and opened a coke. "I'm quite sure you used that sweet little pussy to torment many a man. Now it's my turn to torment it in honor of all those undeserving men. You have one hour."

Sara moaned as she shifted her weight slightly. The constant torment on her most sensitive of areas was maddening. And her breasts were aching from their cruel treatment. She stared at her tormentor wondering why he was doing this to her. Her eyes began to tear as she shifted again. Soon there were no more untouched spots to be found.

"Fifteen minutes," he stated. He stood up and quickly placed a ten pound weight on each of her ankle cuffs. The sudden increase in pressure caused Sara to scream out. It also made it much harder to move her legs.

"Thirty minutes." The man again stood and removed the weights much to Sara's pleasure. He then quickly attached clamps to her sore nipples. He eased her upper body forward by pulling on the fine chain between the clamps until he could fasten it to the front of the horse. Sara groaned in agony as this put pressure on the upper part of her pussy and her very sensitive clit. Her breathing became a series of ragged gasps. A few moments later she began to plead and beg.

"Forty five minutes." This time he replaced the weights causing Sara to scream. He then picked up the thinnest of his canes and started to switch her nude body. He began on her calves and worked her entire backside. Each slash of the thin cane caused her to jump just a bit which set off new shockwaves in her tortured pussy. One vicious blow to her thigh surprisingly caused her to piss herself. With time ticking down, he switched to her stretched breasts as she blubbered incoherent pleas. Finally, he tapped her shaved pussy with the cane, causing her to let loose a high-pitched scream just as she mercifully passed out. Sara barely moaned as he released her from the wicked horse and again dumped her body on the thin mattress.

---

The hooded man was sitting in his chair watching her as Sara slowly started to stir. She had slept for a long time. She was startled to see him already waiting on her. As she slowly sat up, feeling the dull aches in her abused body, she realized that she needed to pee. "Umm, I need to pee."

"Go ahead, slut. You had no problem peeing yourself yesterday on my horse."

Sara blushed and walked over to her bucket. She squatted with some difficulty and let loose a steady stream of yellow pee. He stared at her pussy the entire time. When she was done, he ordered her to push her cot next to the bars. "Now, lie down and stick your legs through the bars." As she did this he pushed a heavy set of wooden stocks with holes about two feet apart up close to the bars.

Her captor quickly placed her ankles in the stocks, then closed and locked the upper section, securing her size 6 feet. He then tied her big toes with a piece of string so that her pampered feet could not move. "This, my bitch, is the bastinado. A favorite across the globe. I hope your feet aren't too sensitive," he laughed.

Sara sat up and tried to get her feet loose as she yelled in frustration. She hated having her ticklish feet messed with. After all, she barely tolerated pedicures only because her feet looked so cute in sandals. She screamed as he ran his fingernail down the sole of her foot. He tickled her lightly causing her to laugh and scream and thrash on her cot.

Then he used a small latex flogger on her feet stinging the soles of her feet with each lash. She screamed and begged to be released. The sadistic man then used a small leather crop to punish her feet. And, finally he picked up his canes. At first it was just a maddening light tap. But then he started hitting her soles with more and more force until thin red welts crisscrossed her tender feet. Again, the tears flowed as she bucked on the bed screaming hysterically in pain. And then she said it. "Puh-please, no more, Sir! Please!"

With those first words of respect, he put the cane down. He untied her toes and gently rubbed a soothing lotion onto her swollen feet. He then released her from the stocks, set down her ration of water and cold oatmeal and left the basement.