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One need only tune in the television set during prime time on any evening of the week to witness a seemingly endless barrage of violence in the form of “entertainment”. Whether it be cops pursuing robbers, or cowboys gunning down Indians, the pattern is invariably the same. The fact that no one is really hurt, at least physically, is also common to them all.
But real violence does exist, and real people, good and bad, are maimed and killed in the streets and homes of America. There are criminals in our midst, people who would steal or rape or kill at the slightest provocation, people who have no respect whatsoever for human life.
Lydia Framington and her daughter are the victims of such people. Innocent of any crime against man, they nevertheless find themselves tortured and faced with disfigurement and death because they have stumbled into the private territory of criminals who place no value on life.
A MOTHER ENSLAVED — is the shocking story of ordeal. An ordeal that any of us might face one day.
Lydia Framington was a good woman. She had never, ever let a man touch her except her husband. And after Greg had died, she had been very, very careful not to put herself in any situation where she might succumb to sex. Why she had started having these feelings of wanting to be dominated Lydia didn’t know.
But now she lay here roped to the headboard of the bed, the line looped around her wrists and cinched so hard her fingers were starting to turn bluish white. She tried twisting her wrists a little and winced in pain, her full lips turning down slightly at the edges.
At least, she thought, he had left on her bra and panties. There was some bit of modesty left to her. She rubbed her thighs together, feeling the slightly sexy rub of her cunt-lips against one another while her ass-cheeks slid over the bare mattress.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.