The woman drew in a sharp breath, feeling something like a tingle of excitement rush through her body. Jack saw the move and nodded approvingly, reaching down and cupping his fingers around his cock. Susan watched unblinkingly as both teens became aroused at her naked, hanging, helpless body. She folded one leg modestly over the other, trying to hide her cunt.

But she was helpless to hide herself just as she had been helpless when Jack and Clint had forced their way into her home. They had broken in through the bedroom window, jarring her from her early sleep, tearing the covers from her. How she had trembled naked in bed, clutching the top sheet, then feeling it torn from her. Clint – or was it Jack? – had had a knife, holding it pressed against her jugular vein. Sleep quickly fled her as she heard the teens telling her how they had had it with her discipline. Now, they said, they were going to teach her a lesson of their own.

"Yeah, looks like that butt can be whipped up bad… nice, white, round ass," Clint said, sucking in his lower lip and biting down hard.

Susan focused her rounded blue eyes on him, a pulse leaping at her throat. She watched him with mounting, terror and – could she admit it to herself – growing excitement. Clint had pulled the two-inch wide belt from his Levi's, folded it in two. At times he snapped the halves together, creating a sound that reminded Susan of a gunshot.

Tilting her head back, the woman looked up at the long links of rusty chain that rose to the wooden beams overhead. The teens had brought everything. Having pulled her naked from her bed, they had shaved her through the house, laughing at her threats, then her pleas. She had nearly fallen down the steep wooden basement stairs twice as they hit her, slapping her ass, her thighs. They told her that all she needed was a good hard fuck.