"I never expected this," Frank Hulme said angrily as he held out his hands to show how his wrists were cuffed in front of himself. Handcuffs he had put on himself at Mrs Charles request, and he still couldn't quite believe he had gone along with this. On the other hand she had apparently seen what he had done to his half-buried son Donny in the garden so perhaps he had no choice but to do what the old woman wanted. "Where the hell did you get these handcuffs anyway?"

The old woman at the kitchen table sipped her freshly-made tea with obvious relish. "I got them from the same place as I get all my bondage equipment. I just had to make sure you were, shall we say, suitably compliant. And willing." She smiled as she took another sip. "As for expectations, I expect you'd never thought you would find your wife and children in bondage. But here we are; your little daughter Jasmine is tied up in her room, your dear wife Kelly strapped to a plank and suspended and may I say well whipped -- my, that must have painful for her - and right now your son being freed from his little pit between the roses."

Frank glanced out of the kitchen window, and could see his neighbour Henry easing the bound and cross-dressed figure of his son from the hole that by all accounts he had helped prepare earlier. Henry Robinson was a muscular, well-built black man and he effortlessly slid the pre-teen boy up and out of the steel tube inserted into the soil. As Frank watched the big man set the bound and gagged Donny on his feet, which were admittedly a little shaky, and brushed some of the wet mud off the wedding dress the boy was wearing. The black man had a wide grin, the one he wore whenever he was very happy.

It was a strange sight for Frank to see his twelve-year old son in his wife's old wedding dress and while the once-white gown would never be the same again, there was something erotic about it all. It also helped that the boy was still securely bound and gagged and the the sopping wet lace panties on his head probably wasn't helping to hide the kid's embarrassment. Or even maybe disguise a glow of pleasure.

"In case you are wondering," said Mrs Charles, following Frank's stare. "Your son is a committed young cross-dresser and under that bridal dress he is wearing some of your wife's underwear too. I believe he has been raiding her wardrobe for some time. However, it is surprising what you can turn to your advantage if you try."

"How... How do you know about his, um, tastes?" Frank tore his eyes away from what was happening outside and focused back on Mrs Charles.

"Your dear wife told me. In fact Kelly, bless her, told me a lot about you and your fantasies and also revealed that she knew Donny was getting off on trying to dress as a woman. All useful information, because it helped bring us to this moment in time." The woman took a final sip of her tea. "Quite an excellent brew you made there, Frank, if you catch my meaning." She grinned as she said it and for a moment Frank felt a surge of anger.

"I'm not your servant," he snapped.

"No, but you are happy to do this for me. Oh, don't deny it! I have videos of what you have done today. Touching your tied up daughter - the nipple stroking was a bonus even I didn't expect - and best of all the way you whipped your wife. The shots of you masturbating over your helpless son's head aren't quite as sharp but they will do. Yes, I have put secret cameras in your home to catch the happy moments; I may be old Frank but I am not stupid. I can use technology just as well as anyone."

"Videos? For what purpose?" Frank took a half step back and collided with the edge of the sink unit. "What are you going to do? Blackmail us?"

The old woman frowned and she drummed her fingers on the table top for a moment. "Blackmail is such a nasty word, and a foul idea. No, I intend to market the videos. People will pay plenty to see a loving father and husband abusing his family. They will pay even more to see a mother and daughter bound and gagged together."

A look of fear flashed across Frank's face. "You can't," he croaked.

"Oh for heaven's sake! Of course I can. I haven't gone to all the trouble of seducing your wife and persuading her to do this with me and having spent this sort of money and not make something--"

"You seduced Kelly? But... How?" Frank despite his obvious shock interrupted the old woman.

Mrs Charles gave a sigh. "How do you think a woman seduces another woman? Magic wand? Unless you think a magic wand is a strap on! No, I did this and fucked your wife because I like sex with women. I like bondage too, except I make money from it. You have to employ every way you can to make a living these days, and I do." The old woman's face darkened a little, and her voice had a distinct edge. Old Mrs Charles, Frank Hulme had decided long ago, was probably about sixty or so but she had retained an astonishing youthfulness and despite her grey hair and wrinkles she had a nicely-shaped face and a no-less well-shaped figure. He had thought such things were probably all down to mature, controlling underwear and plastic surgery but the more he looked at the woman the more he began to conclude her figure was more to do with a careful diet and and a keep-fit regime that would put most people of any age to shame. More than anything, Frank was astonished at the way she mixed pleasantness and firmness. There was no doubt she was in control. He needed however to know more, and he figured the old woman was happy to tell him a few things.

"What about him out there?" despite his handcuffs Frank gestured at the big black man standing alongside his son. He was astonished how the big black man had his arm around his son's slender shoulder and the way the boy had his head resting, almost thankfully, on Henry's chest.

Mrs Charles gave another sigh as if she was getting a little tired of all Frank's questions. "I told you it would all be explained in a civilised manner, but as you cannot wait then I will tell you that Henry here is my helper. He dug the hole and put the steel tube in the ground and helped me set up the cameras. He's a strong and talented man, but of course he needs his rewards too."

"My son," gasped Frank, suddenly understanding why his boy wasn't struggling int he man's embrace.

"Your son and big, strong Henry, indeed. Please don't be shocked; everyone has their price as they say, everyone wants their demons to play nicely with other people's."

"You tied my girl up, too," Frank glared at the woman.

"Me? Tie up a small girl? Oh no. It's my hands, you see," Mrs Charles flexed her skinny fingers for a moment. "Too old to do knots quite as well as I used to, sadly. Still, one can always teach others."

"Henry?" Frank snorted. "You got him to do it?"

The old lady gurgled a chuckle. "No, someone much better. You see, Henry has many qualities but I don't ask him to tie little girls up. Oh, he likes seeing them bound and gagged - though he much prefers seeing little boys suitably secured and dressed to thrill - but I had someone much better."

"Go on," snapped Frank. "Who then?"

Mrs Charles smiled once more. "Think," she said.

"Think what exactly?" Frank stared at the woman, taking this so calmly, so easily.

"Tying up a small girl can be a little traumatic, unless of course she trusts the person doing it. So, I used someone who Jasmine - who I understand you call Jazz - trusted implicitly. I used Kelly to secure jazz."

"Kelly?" Frank blinked in shock. "My wife? How?"

"Oh for goodness sake," said Mrs Charles. "For an intelligent man there are times you really can't grasp things very quickly! Kelly is anxious to please me which is why she gets into bed with me, so when I suggested she tie up her daughter she was happy to be shown how to do it properly. She's a good learner, your wife. Mind you it helped that Jasmine is so keen to be tied as well."

Impatiently, Frank interrupted. "How did all this... I mean, why does Kelly want to please you?"

"Because she likes sex with me. Why else? Now, as it happens I like bondage, as in fact you do. She told me that some time ago, and as you have seen, she's happy for me to tie her up - though I do prefer more than just rope to bind someone." Mrs Charles toyed with the empty cup in front of her. "Before we go any further, I feel it might help to know that little Jasmine has been removed rom the house. You will see her later. I took the liberty to make a certain arrangement. While you were whipping your dear wife's pretty boobs prior to having fun with young Donny, I had your girl removed."

"What!" Frank stared at the old woman. Panic gripped him and he started forward "Where to? What on earth for?"

"Insurance," said the old woman crisply. She held up her hand and stopped any idea Frank might have of advancing on her where she sat. "I had to be sure you would do what was required and it was just common sense to make sure she was where I wanted her. Quite safe, but awaiting my safe return too." The briefest hint of darkness crossed Mrs Charles' face. "One can't be too careful where bondage and desire is concerned," she said quietly, her cold eyes on the man. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I don't understand." Frank felt his face colouring up. He gulped. Surely this woman didn't know about that, did she?

Mrs Charles gave a small shrug. "I think you know exactly, and yes, I do know about your games with little Marsha. How old is she now? Fourteen, I believe? Ah yes, you went to her very special birthday party last month. Just you and that other friend of yours, that colleague called Tony. You both went over to Marsha's mother's house on Oakwood Lane. Imagine that, how you and this Tony were able to persuade Marsha's mother to allow you to tie her daughter up. But then, she needed the money after you both conspired to have her sacked from your company."

The red in Frank's face deepened. "I didn't," he began but a glare from the old lady stopped him.

"You did. Naturally you will say market forces and redundancies and all that, but my little investigation found otherwise. Marsha's mother, Lena, worked with your company. She was told she was likely to be made redundant, but you would keep her - you and this Tony - as a consultant to the business. At least that is how it appears on your company books. She was grateful, very grateful indeed I believe, and agreed. You both would call round at her house at different times and if she co-operated with her child for sex and Marsha let you do what you wanted she would be, shall we say, retained as a consultant. Naturally, she needed the money. Single mother and all that."

"Please, it wasn't like that," said Frank.

"It was, and it is. Well, we shall deal with Marsha and her eager mother in due course." The old woman paused and waved to Henry through the window, indicating he should take the still bound boy away. The big black man swept the boy in the muddy wedding gown up as if he was a doll and carried him off in his arms. The boy wasn't struggling at all.

"Where are they going?" Frank asked, wondering what he should do about this, but the truth was he felt helpless.

"To his house. He will clean up little Donny to the man's satisfaction and no doubt share some pleasures with him. Oh, he won't come to any harm. You will see him later."

Frank gulped and nodded, miserably.

A silence fell on the kitchen. Presently the woman said: "Let me tell you about me. It will help you understand something of why this has come about. I was, and this may or may not surprise you, something of a model in the 1970s. I worked in London, down in Soho, and soon got to know what people wanted and in front of a camera I could provide it. I was good at it, and in demand. However cheesecake pictures of the airbrushed type, posing artistically with a vase of flowers or holding a chiffon scarf in front of my naked body, had started to lose appeal for buyers of porn. The demands had grown more basic, shall we say. I became aware of what they called 'money shots' being all the rage. Unshaved as we women then were, men liked to see photos attractive young women of which I was one all eagerly showing their holes. Or cunts if you prefer the more common phrase. Now, this was fine to a point, but a lot of women did it and work was not as plentiful as I would have liked. Art, as they say, had taken a back seat to desire. However I found a man who would pay me extra, if I would appear in bondage pictures. The changing market liked lesbian bondage and I had no problem having sex with another woman if one or both of us were tied. Little movies too, strictly on 8mm stock and very grainy, turned out to be very profitable. So, I was tied and did the tying. I had sex with other women and we even indulged in some whipping though caning was much preferred. Above all there were no special effects or tricks; it had to look and sound real. It had to be convincing to get the punters to buy. I have never forgotten how to do it, as you have seen already." Mrs Charles grinned and then resumed her tale.

"My business partner Joe Garwood was, alas, of the criminal fraternity and law-breaking then was ruthless, but perhaps it always has been. He was under some threat and was worried, as well he might be. He wisely transferred ownership of the studio, all the equipment and even the profits to me, as some sort of cover. Wise, but pointless: three days later he was found face down in the Thames, so I ended up with a lot of money and a market place eager for bondage and lesbian sex images."

"This Joe... You had your partner killed?" Frank gasped it out before he could stop himself.

"Me? Oh please!" the woman laughed, but she didn't deny it. She regarded the man. "One thing I did learn however was there isn't much room in business for sentiment. I missed Joe, of course, but I could get by. The business grew and I made my living. I made movies, I directed and starred in them, I was a success though not without some pain. After all, I even have the old marks on my back to prove it."

"I don't see how this affects me and my family."

"Really? How naive you are, Frank Hulme." The old woman stood and straightened herself. She smoothed down her nicely-fitting dress over her still shapely body. "The lashing you gave your wife wouldn't be good enough for those people wanting to see really cruel porn torture on their computer screens or even wide-screen TVs, but fortunately it is good enough for the cameras I had already hidden in the garage. I am glad to say I have some decent movie material of you whipping poor Kelly's tits."

"You can't do this." Once again Frank's voice was little more than a gasp.

"I can and have. And will, as I see fit. You see, I expect to make a reasonable amount of money out of your family. They will be bound, used, punished, pleasured even and all captured on film. Digital though it may be -- and so much better than the old messy business of developing rolls of film -- but I am happy to move with the times. Adapting to new things and conditions is good, wouldn't you say?"

"My God," croaked Frank, his head spinning. "How long will you want us?" he managed to say.

"How long depends on how willing you are to co-operate. All of you. Jasmine has a good few years of sexual appeal ahead of her, and Donny a few more I expect though a slightly different market. Still, it is good not to put all your eggs in one basket I find. As for Kelly, well, even older lesbians in bondage have their appeal. As I well know."

"And where do I fit in?" Frank was unsure what to think, but it was definitely exciting. Despite his shock and despair and the way he felt so humiliated, his cock was hard. He couldn't get the thought of his daughter Jazz out of his mind. Nor could he get over the idea his wife could be punished too, and he liked the idea of doing it to her.

"Oh, you can help. We will need a driver, someone to assist with the lighting." The old woman paused and studied the man. "Plus I need to get this pretty little Marsha on board. For that I will definitely need your help."

Frank Hulme nodded slowly, weighing it all up. It was, he had to admit, all very exciting. Then he asked: "And I get to participate?"

"You get to watch and wank. For now at least," said Mrs Charles, her eyes locked on the man. "Which I imagine is a whole lot better than merely dreaming and wanking alone. Now, we need to get to the next stage of our little project. Are you ready and willing to assist?"

Frank took all of a second to say 'yes.' He even added the word 'please' without being told.

~End of part 2