Kicking her legs around, Rhonda managed to roll back on her ass, shaking loose hair from her face. She was looking up at Jack, moaning and gasping behind her gag.

Downstairs the phone was ringing, but Jack ignored it.

He slipped one hand down to her wrists, pulling her from the bed. She cried out, digging her teeth into the rubber ball as a terrible shooting ache exploded in her shoulders.

Tumbling head over foot, the young woman crashed onto the floor, her ankles striking the bureau.

Things had definitely gone too far. Trying to struggle to her feet, Rhonda felt completely disoriented. The ringing phone seemed to be coming from inside her skull. She drew her feet under her ass, pressing her spine against the wall in an attempt to raise herself.

Jack was on her in a second, shoving her body back to the floor, then grabbing her foot and wedging it between his thigh and belly. He had something in his other hand, a long metal bar with cuffs on either end. Leg irons! She screamed through the gag, pushing back with her legs. This was crazy! Insane! She never should have joined that silly club to begin with!

Rhonda felt her bare ass frictioning against the blue carpeting while she tried wriggling away from her tormentor. Impossible! Jack held her more firmly than ever, swinging the bar around until the top of the cuff clamped hard over her ankle. In another moment, Rhonda felt the iron restraint snap shut, trapping one leg firmly in its grasp. "Mmmfmfmmfmffffff!"

Her eyes rounded while dots of perspiration broke out on her wrinkled forehead. She felt her belly churn as Jack grabbed her other leg and held it firmly, clamping the iron cuff around that ankle. It was done. Rhonda winced, feeling the tight rusty iron bands biting into her flesh while the metal rod kept her legs fourteen inches apart.