The Story of ‘A’ Part II The Journey · Part 2 (2/4)
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able, carefully transferring the contents of the casserole to the empty plates.
Rolf turned to Angela and said, "come with me" as he walked away. Angela looked around in panic, weighing her chances to make a break for freedom now. She knew she get back into the garage before anyone could stop her, but she wasn't sure she could get the garage door open in time.
Her indecision was resolved when Rolf appeared at the entrance to the kitchen and said more threateningly, "did you hear what I said?" Angela hurried to him as he turned and walked out of the kitchen again. He pushed open a nearby door and gestured her inside. With relief, she saw that it was a bathroom and she dashed in, closed the door, and sank gratefully onto the toilet. Her bowel movement was quite painful, due both to the extended period she was forced to hold it in, and from the invasion Rolf had completed in the van. But now, in the normal surroundings of a house, with another person present and the trappings of her submissiveness removed from her mouth and wrists, Angela could hope that this ordeal was nearing its end. She believed that the presence of his wife or girlfriend, whoever she was, would serve as some protection.
As she washed her hands, the door opened and the girl came in and went to the small linen closet. Angela blurted out urgently "can you help me? Please, I need to go home…" The girl did not answer, but shook her head no, and put her finger to her lips. She had withdrawn two scruffy dog collars with attached leashes from the small closet. She handed one to Angela and began to fasten the other one around her own neck. Angela stood rooted to the spot, staring at the collar in her hand and a shaking fear taking hold of her again. This girl would be no help to her. She was Rolf's sub, and the collar in her hand served as a screaming signal that he expected mute submission from her, too.
She threw the collar on the floor and ran from the bathroom down the hallway to the front door. Near hysteria, she twisted the doorknob frantically and pulled on the door. It did not budge and she saw Rolf standing nearby watching her vain efforts with amusement. When she had given up and was standing miserably with her back against the door, determined not to cry, Rolf walked over to her. Standing in front of her, he ordered Susan to fetch the collar and leash. Angela stood like a trapped animal, breathing heavily and warily watching her tormentor.
Susan returned with the collar and leash and handed them to Rolf, her eyes downcast and her own collar around her neck with the leash in her other hand. Rolf handed the leather dog collar to Angela and held the leash end while looking into her eyes. Angela dropped her eyes, and slowly attached the collar to her neck. No sooner was it attached than Angela felt a wave of humiliation sweep over her, strangely more intense than anything she had experienced at the first Party, or any subsequent situation she found herself in with Len. Despite her great fear of the past several hours, she was very much aware of the fact that the fear had near magically receded when the collar had been secured.
Fear was replaced almost instantly with feelings of embarrassment as well as of peaceful submissiveness, the latter stunning her as she knew how out of place it was in this circumstance. This was not being blindfolded and helplessly awaiting whatever her beloved Master Len had in store for her… secure in the knowledge that he would not allow any real harm to come to her. Instead, she was standing in a locked house with a stranger who had raped and kidnapped her, who for all she knew, planned to kill her.
Rolf walked to the table, sat down, and gestured for Susan to sit at the other chair. Angela stood awkwardly next to him, not sure what she was supposed to do. After Rolf picked up his salad fork, Susan followed suit and they began to eat. After a few bites, Rolf shortened Angela's leash and jerked on it, signaling her to sit. There was no chair in reach, and Angela knew he wanted her to sit on the floor. She did so, settling down with her legs curled up under her.
Rolf and Susan's conversation over their dinner was that of any other couple. Neither mentioned, nor even looked at, Angela. Susan referred to Rolf as "Sir" during the conversation. When he had finished the main course, Rolf stood up and told Susan he'd be back in a while for coffee. He tugged on Angela's leash and led her up the stairs to a medium sized room that looked at first glance like an exercise room.
He led her to a small metal bar suspended six feet from the floor and told her to take hold of it with both hands. Like any sub, Angela knew what was coming, that she was going to be punished somehow. That thought did not terrify her; she was used to it and often looked forward to being disciplined and the release that would follow. But she did not look forward to this; this was not her Master. She had not given herself to this man. She obeyed, though, reaching up and gripping the bar with both hands. Rolf moved behind her, lifted the back of her sundress and tucked it into her belt. Finally, he spoke. "That run to the front door was a serious mistake. I am going to whip you for it. If you take even one hand off that bar, I will tie you to it and, instead of a whip, I will use a cane on you."
With that, Rolf stripped off his shirt and reached onto a table for a medium length whip, a leather whip with six leather strips at the business end. He smiled as he saw Angela's eyes widen when she saw it, and the cheeks of her buttocks clench when he drew it back.
Angela shrieked at the first stroke, fire spreading across her ass and thighs where the leather strips had made contact. She gritted her teeth and remained silent through the second and third strokes, although the stinging was worse than any she could remember administered by Len' crop. After the fourth, which fell mostly on her ass and lower back, Angela let out another scream and began frantically shifting her weight from one leg to the other while rubbing her burning rear end with both hands.
Rolf put his whip down, pulled two leather cuffs with metal rings attached from the table and fastened them to Angela's wrists. He ignored her, as usual, when she began with her pleas and apologies for taking her hands off the bar. Moments later, her hands were again on the bar, this time with her wrists fastened to it by short chains. Rolf positioned himself behind her and swished a thin flexible cane through the air a few times. The whistling sound filled Angela with dread… fear all the worse because she had never been struck with a cane. Suddenly she heard the whooshing sound and the thin bamboo struck across her lower ass cheeks.
Her screams filled the room and she writhed from side to side twisting her body so that she now faced Rolf. He smiled wickedly and said, "so you want the other five across the front of your body, do you?" In horror at the thought of the supple wooden cane landing on her breasts, Angela swung her body around quickly, again presenting the back of her legs, her back and her ass for discipline.
By the sixth and final stroke, Angela was hoarse and was hanging limply from the bar. Rolf came in front of her and touched the cane to her lips. Angela knew what she was to do, and without hesitating, she kissed the cause of the throbbing pain radiating from six angry welts. The ritual complete, Rolf put his hand behind her head and drew her, surprisingly gently, to him and kissed her. He then released her from the cuffs, pulled her sundress back down and waited for a moment while she reached under it and rubbed the still terribly stinging welts.
As she did so, he took a small tube from the table and putting his hand on the back of her neck, forced her head down until she was in a bowed position. Without comment, he began to rub the cooling ointment into the marks of her punishment. Angela's minor surprise was that the nearly unbearable stinging did begin to ease slightly as the ointment was applied; the major one was that she suddenly realized her thighs were wet and her nipples rock hard.
Holding her leash loosely, Rolf ambled back to the kitchen with Angela in tow. He sat down at his place, and while Susan hurried to get the freshly brewed coffee, Rolf looked at Angela and then meaningfully at the floor. She sank to the floor quickly, shifting positions several times, seeking to keep pressure off the still very tender parts of her body that had tasted the whip and cane.
Angela was still hungry, having had only the hamburger since breakfast, but her thirst was even greater. While the couple at the table drank their coffee, Angela decided not to risk asking for a drink, but if one were offered she would say "thank you, sir". And if none were offered, she would get some water from the faucet in the bathroom on her next trip.
Angela felt an objection to this indirect criticism of her master forming at her tongue, but stifled the urge to join the conversation uninvited. But the succession of thoughts did not end with the decision to remain silent. She tried to suppress the comparisons that flowed, unbidden, to the front of her consciousness: how much crueler Rolf was in his punishment; how, as far as she knew, her pleasure during discipline was of no consequence whatsoever to Rolf, and how Rolf's ability to delay his orgasm had left Angela vibrating like a violin string in the back of the van; and finally, what it would be like to be Rolf's sub. Angela wrenched her mind off the train of thought, helped by the shame these thoughts had caused to surface.
As Rolf rose to leave after finishing his coffee, he snapped the loop at the end of Angela's leash onto a ring under the table. After he'd left the kitchen, Angela, still on the floor on folded legs, turned her attention to Susan who was clearing the table. She ventured a question: could she help with the dishes? Susan looked startled and, again putting a warning finger to her lips scribbled a note and handed it to Angela. "I'm not allowed to speak to you", it said. Feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland, Angela took the pencil Susan had handed her and wrote a note under Susan's. "No one told me not to speak" she scribbled, and then added, "will you help me get out of here, please!"
Susan read the note, shook her head no, and stuffing the note into her apron, turned to busy herself at the dishwasher. Angela remained on the floor, her growling stomach and dry lips now her main focus. She tried to think about something else. She strained to hear the muffled TV coming from the family room, where she assumed Rolf had gone. Eventually, Susan finished cleaning up the kitchen and, with a sad smile at Angela and a shrug of her shoulders, she too left the kitchen. On her way out, she turned off the light. Angela sat alone in the darkened room, the steady hum from the refrigerator her only company.
Finally, she ran her hand down the length of her leash and felt where it connected to the ring underneath the table. Testing it with her fingers, she knew right away that the connection was a simple snap, no different from that where the leash attached to the collar. She could easily remove it. "And then what?", she thought, to herself. Her mind worked slowly, as if burdened by the weight of events. Before a clear plan emerged, the light snapped on and Rolf, now in a bathrobe, entered the room and detached the leash from the table.
She looked up at him and asked softly, "Rolf, this is wrong. I have to go home. Please let me go now. I won't say anything". Rolf handed her a piece of paper on which someone had written, in feminine script, a simple explanation obviously intended to be said to her husband. He took the handset to the wall phone from the wall and handed it to her. "Say this, and nothing more", he ordered. "Nothing more", he repeated. "What is the number?" He helped her to her feet and, standing behind her, wrapped one arm tightly around her with his hand holding one breast tightly but not painfully. Angela put the now ringing phone to her ear. Rolf had leaned his head close to the earpiece as well.
"It's the answering machine", she said dully. She spoke the required words and then handed the phone to Rolf, who had released his grip on her breast, but remained with his arm around her. Her leash hung from her collar, coiled on the floor. Her heart pounding, she knew with certainty now that no one would be looking for her.
"Can I have a drink… Sir?", she asked, unthinkingly licking her dry lips.
"Yes, Angela", Rolf said with a small grin. "But for a while, everything you drink will come from here", he added taking her wrist and placing her hand over his robe where she could feel his cock. Angela was not sure if she was being told he wanted her to suck him now, or if he had answered her literally. She stood quietly, making no effort to remove her hand from the loose grip with which he held her wrist. Ten seconds passed, Angela not sure what she was supposed to do or if she was expected to say anything. Then Rolf shrugged, released her wrist and taking the leash, urged her out of the kitchen and to the steps leading upstairs.
He led her into a bedroom where Susan lay on her back, naked, on a king size bed. Her legs were bent so that her heels were on the bed and they were slightly parted in invitation. Angela looked away, slightly embarrassed, as always in a potentially sexual situation with another female present.
Rolf dropped her leash and told her to undress. When she did not comply, looking at him pleadingly instead, Rolf simply grabbed the sundress and jerked it over her head, leaving Angela standing in her bra and shoes. She reached behind her immediately and fumbled the clasp of her bra open. "Please, Rolf", she began… and then knowing that pleading was futile, she stopped in mid-sentence and stood stoically, eyes downcast. "Get into bed". Angela sat at the edge of the bed, as far from Susan as possible, and slowly removed her shoes. Rolf had gone to a chest of drawers and returned with a leather ankle cuff, identical to the one Angela saw on Susan.
He sat next to Angela on the bed and handing the cuff to her, reached behind her neck and unfastened her collar. She sat stiffly, the fleece lined cuff in her hand and its short chain dangling below. "Put it on your ankle", Rolf told her. Because her hands were shaking, it took Angela longer than necessary to buckle the two straps that held the cuff on her ankle. Rolf did not comment; he merely took the chain and fastened the locking end to a steel ring that had been screwed into the bottom of the frame at the foot of the bed. It's four feet of play did not impede Angela's movement on the bed, but clearly would prevent her from going very far from it unless she were to unbuckle the cuff.
Then Rolf took a small padlock from his bathrobe pocket and slid the steel clasp through the two small rings on the cuff, snapping the lock shut, effectively eliminated any possibility of escape. With that, he stood up, went to the other side of the bed and snapped off the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. She felt the bed move as he got in on the other side and settled in next to Susan. A small nightlight provided only a dim outline of the room's features after the lamp had been turned off.
Susan turned to face Rolf and the bed stirred as he put his arms around her and they shifted their positions until they were comfortably cuddled. Angela remained sitting awkwardly at her side of the bed. Soon it was obvious that Rolf and Susan were not going to sleep yet. Although she carefully kept her eyes averted, she knew that he was kissing her and she made occasional sounds of pleasure as his hands roamed over her body. Finally, Angela lay down on the extreme edge of the bed, facing away from the couple next to her and maintained a rigid alertness, embarrassed for Susan. Minutes later, she felt the bed shifting and realized that Rolf had rolled on top of Susan.
"Wider", he said clearly and one of Susan's feet touched Angela's leg as she obeyed the command to spread her legs wider apart. Soon the bed was moving fairly violently and Angela shifted quietly onto her back and stole a look. Rolf was plunging into his sub, holding her ass suspended a little above the bed as he had Angela earlier in the van. Susan's arms were wrapped around his neck and she was kissing his face as well as she could while he fucked her.
Angela looked away, both aroused and repulsed by the scene taking place next to her. Similarly, her feelings were mixed at another level: she was relieved that she was thus far being left alone, but also a bit miffed at being ignored. Her reverie was interrupted by Susan's moans increasing in volume and pitch as she approached her climax. When it came, Rolf lowered her back onto the bed and then sat up and reached into the nightstand, withdrawing something from it. "I'm sorry, sir", Susan whispered; I tried so hard…please, sir, not with her here".
"Angela", the words seemed to thunder in the dimly lit room, "turn over and watch this". Angela quickly turned over onto her other side, facing her bedmates as ordered. Rolf sat on the edge of the bed at Susan's shoulder level, a very short whip in his hand. It was about the length of the crop Len used on her, but at its end were several strands of leather rather than the tabbed tongue-like tip she knew so well. Rolf adjusted Susan's knees to widen the distance between her parted thighs. "Put your hands where they belong", he told Susan sternly. She immediately clasped them behind her neck. "Tell Angela why you are going to be punished". Susan turned her head to Angela. Her mouth only inches from Angela's she said, "I may not come without permission, ever". Angela could see that she was breathing heavily. Her eyes were closed.
"I'm very disappointed that you would make such a stupid mistake at this point Susan", he said raising the small whip. He began striking her slowly. From her position, Angela saw the whip disappear between Susan's open thighs on each stroke, and from Susan's response, assumed that her pussy was the target. From the first one, each stroke was accompanied by a sharp "oh", "ow", or "uh"… cried out in such a way as to make clear that Susan was striving to make as little sound as possible. Susan's hips gyrated wildly from side to side and sometimes slightly into the air as the whipping continued, but her hands remained behind her neck.
When the punishment stopped, Angela saw his hand disappear between her still raised and open legs. His touch on the targeted area generated additional groans, clearly not pleasurable ones. The whip was then placed in front of her face, and Susan dutifully kissed it, and continued sobbing quietly. Her hands were still behind her neck and her legs remained open and bent with her heels on the bed.
Rolf patted her pussy once and then rose from the bed, came around to Angela's side, and sat down next to her. "You are to be whipped, too", he stated without preamble. Angela was so frightened that her question never got out. Rolf quoted her earlier note to Susan, word for word. "You will shortly understand that Susan cannot and would not 'help' you."
"Turn over". Angela quickly turned onto her stomach, a flood of gratitude washing through her with the realization that if she were going to be whipped, at least it would not be on her ultra-vulnerable breasts or pussy.
"Put your hands behind your neck like you saw Susan do", he commanded curtly. Angela did as ordered. "Don't take them away from there". Rolf brought the whip down and the strands spread across the lower part of her ass and her upper thighs. It hurt a lot, but Angela knew that she could survive this. By the fifth stroke, her cries were much louder than Susan's had been, and she was less sure of her ability to get through it. Her legs, despite her efforts not to, were flailing about as he whipped her. Finally, her ass and thighs feeling as if they had been burned, Rolf lowered the whip. Angela was crying, but experienced a strange moment of pride as she realized that she had not moved her hands. She had survived with some dignity.
When Rolf told her to get on her hands and knees, she assumed that he was going to take her now. She thought that he had not sounded like he'd come when he fucked Susan. Rolf helped lift her into all fours position by putting his hand under her stomach and lifting her. He remained sitting on the edge of the bed at her shoulder level, facing her lower body. With his arm still around her waist, keeping her hips relatively immobile, he told her to lower her chest to the bed. As her breasts touched the sheets, her ass still high off the bed, and Rolf holding her tightly so that her ass was unable to move, Angela knew that being laid was not her next experience.
The whip began to fall again and some of the strands of the lash found their way to the sensitive area between her ass and her pussy. With some strokes, the tips of the strands struck her pussy itself. Angela's struggles to escape the whip became more vigorous, but Rolf easily held her in position with his arm around her waist. She dimly heard herself begging for Rolf to stop, promising to do anything, swearing she could stand no more. Finally, the whip was lowered again.
Rolf stood up and raised Angela's tear streaked face toward his crotch. "Are you thirsty yet, little one?", he asked teasingly. Defiantly, and still sobbing uncontrollably, Angela shook her head negatively and remained on her knees, panting and crying. Rolf laughed and left the room, commenting as he did so that he would be back aft
The Story of ‘A’ Part II The Journey · Part 2 (2/4)
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