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What a perfect day. Just the right temperature with a cool breeze blowing over the fields. Betsy opened the windows before rolling up her sleeves and getting to work. The caveat to having the windows open was that the screams would travel across the fields, but on a hundred acres, no one was around to hear them except Betsy, who would relish in them. She’d been waiting for this weekend since Harry had announced his trip with the guys a few weeks ago.
Whistling along to “Over the Midnight Moon” on the radio, she laid down plastic sheets on and around the dining table and stacked the chairs in the corner, out of the way. She wore a plain, beige dress, one Harry wouldn’t miss, and her hair pinned away from her face. Once the dining hall was cleared, wrapped, and prepared, she heaved her young maid’s limp, lithe body supine on the table and cut off her clothing.
Now came the fun part—well, one of the fun parts. Betsy loved tying knots, winding the rope around itself and Makenna’s narrow torso. Her breasts were round and bouncy, perfect for spanking. But right now Betsy wanted them squeezed with rope. After binding them, she looped the rope around her slender neck and tucked it behind her back for now. The lower half got tied up, too, a makeshift belt running around her waist and in between her legs, a knot resting against her clit.
Betsy rolled the girl over until she was face-down, continuing with the rope around her wrists, ankles, and ass, connecting them so that she was hog-tied, back bent into a crescent. Holding the remainder of the rope, Betsy took a step back to admire her handiwork. Beautiful—she had to admit she could see what Harry was seduced by.
Except the two ropes in between her ass cheeks were also covering her cunt. Betsy shook her head. “That won’t do,” she sang, securing them apart with 2 shorter ropes around her thighs tied in bows like thigh-high hose. Now the ropes hugged her fat little cunt and dug into the pads of her ass, leaving both holes on display. Perfect.
Too perfect, in fact. The sight of the ropes around her vulva with puffy inner lips peeking out sent a feral urge through Betsy’s body. She couldn't help leaning in and helping herself to a snack. Best to do it now before the girl woke up and felt any pleasure from it. Betsy dove in, languidly sliding her tongue over her cunt and the puckered hole on top. After all, she had to be lubed up, Betsy reasoned with herself as if she needed an excuse to bury her face into the sweet cunt, licking up every fold and shoving her tongue into both holes. Yes, best to lube her up good. She leaned up and let a stream of drool splash onto the reddened flesh.
There was one more thing to tie up: Makenna’s long, light brown hair. Gathering it up in her fist, Betsy yanked the girl’s head back, looping the rest of the rope in between her bound wrists. Before she tightened it around the ends of her hair, however, on a whim she let go.
The sudden release dropped Makenna’s head, bashing her face against the table. She awakened with a yelp, blood leaking from her nose. Immediately she began to squirm, trying in vain to find a comfortable position. “Ow, ow!” she wailed as Betsy pulled her head back and tied her hair to her wrists, leaving her fully hog-tied at last.
Betsy walked back around the table and stood in front of the bleeding, sniveling girl with her hands on her hips. “Oh, you poor dear, let’s clean you up, shall we?”
“Oh, God!” Makenna whined in reply. “Mrs. Beynon—what—?”
“Hush…” From the kitchen, Betsy grabbed a washcloth and cleaned the blood from the girl’s pretty, wide-eyed face. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?”
“Why are you doing this?” she screamed in response.
Betsy’s lips tightened and she threw down the rag, losing patience. “Don’t play coy with me, slut. You know what you’re doing with my husband.”
“No—!”
“You want to get fucked, then?” she continued, opening the box under the table where she kept her rope and other toys. “You want your filthy cunt pounded? I’ll give it to you good, sweetheart.”
“No, please!” Makenna bawled. “Please, I don’t want it! Mr. Beynon makes me—!”
“Shut up,” Betsy hissed, incensed by her husband’s name in this filthy whore’s mouth. She raised her hand and struck her ass cheek, nearly pushing her off the table. “How stupid do you think I am? I see the way you two look at each other. You’re begging for it, you dirty little bitch.”
Makenna yelped as Betsy spanked her again, aiming for the same spot, snarling, “You think you’re so much better than me? You, a stupid little orphan cunt who can barely read? Now you shall learn!”
“No! Ah—ow!” Makenna cried as Betsy momentarily lost control, smacking her until the band of one of her rings drew blood.
Breathing heavily, she took a step back, calmed by the sight of the sobbing girl with welts on her ass. “The fun’s just begun, baby,” she breathed, taking out a large rubber cock, wider than her grip and about 14 inches long. In the box sat an identical one—that was for later.
Betsy pried open Makenna’s cunt lips, leaning in to inspect the tight, clenching hole. To her surprise, it was slick with arousal, helping the tip of the cock slide in. “I see this used hole is already begging for it,” she remarked, ramming it in until only the base poked out between her thighs.
“No, please, Mrs. Beynon, I swear to God! I don’t want it! He holds me down!”
“Shut the fuck up and take it like the little cock-slut you are.” Betsy gave her ass one more spank for good measure before turning back to the box. Out came the other cock, this one for her ass. Makenna writhed and cried as Betsy worked it in the tight hole, enjoying the sight of her rim stretched white around the rubber.
“No, please, God! Please, I can’t! Mrs. Beynon, please stop—I’ll do anything!”
“Yet when I tell you to shut up, you don’t listen,” Betsy shot back, eyes on her plugged holes. But after another minute of the bitch’s incessant wailing, Betsy had to shut her up. She yanked out the cock in her ass, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and stuffed it down her throat. Now only the sounds of Makenna’s gagging and drooling filled the room, which was just fine with Betsy. In fact, she was even more turned on. But there was a problem: The hole between her ass cheeks, though reddened, was still puckered when it needed to be gaped.
“I’ll be right back,” Betsy told her cheerfully, heading back to the kitchen. What in here could she use? Most of the cooking utensils were not big enough… Then her eyes fell on the empty half-gallon milk bottles on the floor next to the back door. The milkman was due tomorrow, so plenty of time to make use of one of the bottles before then.
And so into the girl’s tight ass it went, stretching her out and making her flail against the restraints, which were surely tugging relentlessly on her limbs and hair by now. Teeth bared, Betsy pumped the bottle and cock into her loosening holes, spitting slurs and filling with urgent heat.
“That’s it, you dirty little whore, you love your greedy little cunt and ass filled, huh? I’m going to ruin your holes so you’ll be totally worthless. Not even Harry will touch you.”
Makenna’s cries grew higher in pitch, pleasure seeping in. Of course she loved it, the filthy bitch. She was stiffening up, taking each thrust until hot fluid spurted out of her cunt onto the table.
Betsy pulled out the objects, abandoning them on the floor to spread the girl’s ass cheeks and get a good look at her gaping, sloppy holes. She gathered her spit and dropped it from her lips into her stretched asshole.
“Now you’ve been fucked proper,” she chuckled, slapping the wet, drooling mess, feeling swollen cunt lips hot against her palm. With the next slap, the heel of her palm drove the knot into her clit, drawing out an anguished cry.
Makenna’s face was against the table; her hair had gotten loose from the ropes. She cried and cried, not lifting her head when Betsy came back around the table, displeased to see the cock out of her mouth, laying on the floor.
Betsy yanked her head up and snarled in her drool-splattered, tear-streaked face, “You’re supposed to be choking on a dick, slut.”
“I’m—I’m sorry—” Makenna heaved and trembled, a sopping wet mess. Unfortunately for her, Betsy wasn’t quite finished with the fun. Hooking her arm around hers, Betsy dragged Makenna off the table and let her crash to the floor, first on her knees, then on her purple tits, starting the sobbing all over again.
“Oh, you don’t like it, poor baby?” Betsy taunted, hiking up her dress and revealing her own bare cunt, leaking with need onto her thighs. “Should’ve thought about that before you fucked my husband.”
For once, Makenna kept quiet instead of protesting. Until Betsy stepped on her shoulder and let loose a stream of piss onto her face. Makenna shrieked and ducked her head, avoiding most of it, pushing Betsy further into rage. She lowered herself onto her knees and bore down on the girl’s head, forcing her face into the puddle of piss.
“Clean it up,” she commanded. “Open your mouth and lap it up, slut, that’s it.”
Crying, Makenna did as told. Her tongue dipped into the clear-yellow puddle on the plastic-coated floor, her lips reluctantly slurping it up. Just when Betsy was going to sit in front of her and smear her piss-soaked cunt in her face for her to lap up, too, a loud riiing came from the hallway.
“Do not move or make a noise if you want to see your sixteenth birthday,” Betsy advised, rising and walking briskly to the telephone hanging on the wall.
“Betsy Beynon,” she sighed into it.
“Hiya, doll!” It was Harry, calling from his best mate’s cabin in the mountains. How he had connection up there was a damn mystery. “How’s everything?”
“Wonderful, darling,” she said, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice. At least she wasn’t lying.
“Ah, well—I have bad news. The car won’t start and the mechanic’s not open till tomorrow, so...I might have to stay another day. So sorry, my dear.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” Betsy assured him. “Makenna and I will be just fine here till you get back.” In the other room, Makenna was slumped over, unmoving.
“Are you...are you sure?” Harry’s voice was raised in confusion; evidently, he expected a tantrum.
“Of course! You go on and have fun, darling.” Betsy hung up and returned to the dining hall with a bounce in her step. “Good news, baby girl! My husband’s not coming home anytime soon, so we can have more fun!”
Makenna lifted her head. God, was she pretty with red-rimmed hazel eyes and cheeks splattered with spit, piss, and tears. Betsy positioned herself in front of her, thighs spread wide.
“On the bright side, you won’t be thirsty,” she continued, clasping Makenna’s hair and pulling her face closer to her aching, clenching lower lips. “Since you’re going to drink up every drop of fluid from this cunt. Now open your mouth, slut.”