The Story of ‘A’ Part II The Journey · Part 4 (4/4)
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After a minute, she began to whimper, cursing herself for doing so. She also could no longer keep from bucking her hips as her ass was struck. The stinging was very intense, and just as she feared she would begin to scream and beg him to stop, Rolf put the paddle down on the bed next to her. "Turn over on your back", he said.
Angela did as she was told, uselessly holding her hands over her breasts. After telling her to put her hands at her sides, he began to use the paddle on her breasts and stomach. Angela's cries began at once, the blows to her breasts causing far more pain than the paddling of her ass had done. She desperately wanted to reach up and cup and rub her breasts to try to assuage the stinging. Before the pain moved her to try to do it, Rolf again put the paddle down.
It was over. And like the Stockholm syndrome captives, Angela felt a surge of gratitude for the man who had caused the discomfort to cease, sublimating the obvious irrationality of her gratitude. Rolf stood, took off his clothes and stretched out next to Angela. He turned on his side and with his hand behind her shoulder, gently turned her on her side as well. Angela met his steady gaze for several moments, then broke the contact by closing her eyes. She felt his breath near her mouth, and opened her eyes at the moment his mouth claimed hers. She accepted the kiss passively, letting her lips go soft and parting them obediently as his tongue touched them.
And she realized guiltily that he was touching more than her lips. As if operating independently of her mind, her arms moved around Rolf's neck. Suddenly, Len came unbidden to mind again. He too often became strangely gentle after punishing her. It resonated as a familiar response and Angela knew that she was responding to Rolf after discipline exactly as she had so often to Len.
When he lifted himself above her, her legs behaved as her mouth and arms had shortly before; they parted and she bent them to a comfortable angle, her feet firmly on the bed. Rolf lowered himself onto her and pushed against her pussy lips firmly, but not powerfully. Her pussy too had betrayed her, generating copious lubrication. Soon he had established the rhythm of their union, and Angela matched it as her hips rose and fell to meet the man above her. Even as her pleasure mounted, she marveled again at how similar this was to many post-punishment sessions with her master, even to the little jerking upthrust he produced at the end of each withdrawing stroke. Those little changes in angle produced contact with her lips that transferred immediately to her clit, pushing her excitement higher.
But it was here that the divergence in style between her master and her rapist became apparent. As her first climax arrived, and she felt the tiny squirting sensation she knew was not urination, she became increasingly vocal, a response that usually triggered in Len, and her earlier lovers too, a need to increase the speed of their thrusts as they sought their own orgasms.
But Rolf's pace did not change. He continued to hold her ass in his hands and thrust repeatedly into her as before, even as to the little hitch at the end of each upthrust. As he did, Angela felt another wave of release course through her. And then another. Her moans filled the bedroom now, accompanied only by Rolf's somewhat heavier breathing. Imperceptibly, Angela began to experience the pain of overstimulation at her clit and within the walls of her pussy. She wished that Rolf would come and let her come down from the wall she was being forced to climb. As if in response to her wish, Rolf began to fuck her more urgently, his pelvis pounding against hers harder and with greater frequency.
She contracted her vaginal muscles to produce the milking action that men found irresistible. But Rolf resisted easily, the trick that had served him so well with women from his vanilla teens to his D-adulthood again remained an easy one for him. Rolf was able to defer his orgasm as long as he wished, even when he chose to piston rapidly in and out of his partner's body.
He reached under her thighs and lifted them to force her knees against her breasts, then shifted his grip to her ankles which he continue to push back until the contortion left her pussy high in the air and pointing at the ceiling. Rolf shifted his hips higher so that he could drive into her from above, the already considerable penetration increased further due to the new angle of entry.
Angela felt herself more splayed open than when in her gynecologist's stirrups. Her total helplessness, now unable to even move her hips at all to meet him, increased her excitement. Again a series of quakes rumbled through her genitals and again her vocal volume increased. She began to grunt out a few words when his withdrawal strokes relieved the pressure on her abdomen, giving her sufficient breath to speak. With horror she realized that they were the wrong words; she had said, "come, darling, I want to feel it in me."
But she was not allowed to wallow in guilt; a new orgasm was cresting and its intensity frightened her. Now she knew that her response to Rolf's rape of her pussy in the van was not a fluke. It was happening again, even more intensely. She wailed as her pussy exploded again. "My God, oh my God!"
Finally, Rolf lifted himself off her, and allowed her to bring her legs down to the bed. Her incongruous relief that the sensations would stop now was short lived. She felt him turning her over and placing her on all fours. And then, his hard cock was inside her again. The fucking had now become a pounding. As his taut stomach slapped against her ass, the contact renewed the pain from her whipping. And her breasts, now pressed against the sheets, also began to hurt where he had paddled her earlier.
The pain, though, was not enough to cancel out the reaction of her pussy. One final orgasm, so powerful that it too was painful below the pleasure, wracked her body. The dual response was playing havoc with her nervous system; muscle groups throughout her body were spasming uselessly. "Shall I stop now?", he asked. "Yes, oh, please", she cried out in her mind. Betrayed again: the word that actually left her lips and filled the room was "noooo". She was shaking her ass in all directions as Rolf continued to plumb her pussy. Then, unaccountably from Rolf's perspective, she began to cry. Angela also did not know for a long time what had prompted her tears.
Rolf, who was breathing very heavily now from the exertion of this marathon bout, withdrew from her. As she remained on her hands and knees and looked back over her shoulder at him, Rolf sat back on his haunches and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He quickly stood and positioned himself in front of her.
Although totally exhausted, she opened her mouth and took the heavy cock between her lips; she began to bring her tongue into play along its length. Immediately and mercifully, his hips began to buck and she felt and tasted a series of streams of thick semen coat her tongue and throat. When he was done, he sat down heavily on the bed again. Angela remained on her hands and knees panting, too exhausted to lie down.
Minutes later, she did lower herself onto the bed and with great effort turned over onto her back. She looked around the room. She was alone. The collar chafed her neck. When her body and emotions had returned to earth, Angela drifted into sleep. She awoke several times, once to find she'd been left a meal in a carefully plastic-wrapped dish on the nightstand. The next time she awoke, it was to a lot of noise coming from downstairs…. voices and the sound of something scraping along the floor. Angela called out, needing to pee. On her third effort, Susan came into the bedroom and took her by the leash into the bathroom. Susan looked preoccupied and refused to answer any of Angela's questions.
Angela found herself leashed to the bed again and remained there all day. Susan had again turned on the small TV, but Angela lost interest in it almost immediately. She napped most of the day, and was awakened by the shaking of the bed as Rolf sat down on it next to her. "Do you need to go?", he asked. Still drowsy, Angela needed a moment to remember that this was probably not a threatening question this time. She nodded and Rolf unlocked her leash from the bed. He did not move, so she went into the bathroom alone.
When she came out, Rolf was gone. The noises from the rooms below had stopped. The house seemed silent, except for the drone coming from the bedroom TV. She snapped it off and stood in the center of the room unsure of what to do next. Finally she opened the door and peered cautiously into the hallway. She saw no one.
Her confidence rising, she carefully shut the door and looked around the room for her clothes, but they were not there. She went to the bureau, but her memory of what lay within at least one of the drawers, and the sound of her leash dragging on the floor behind her, stayed her hand. At least she had the freedom to leave the bed and walk around a little. Until she knew more, she decided to protect her newfound mobility. She went back to the door, opened it and with intentional plaintiveness, called out Susan's name.
Susan came from downstairs and when they were behind the closed bedroom door, burst into tears, holding her hand over her mouth to blanket the sound. "What's wrong?", Angela asked, her concern genuine. Susan unbuttoned her shirt and revealed her breasts. Angry bright red lines crisscrossed them and Angela turned away. She had often worn similar decorations, but Susan's marks seemed far deeper and more numerous. "God, Susan", was all she could say. "It's OK, I've had worse, but sometimes he gets like this… there was no reason". As she spoke, Susan closed her shirt. She was about to say something else, but Rolf opened the door and joined them.
Susan dropped her eyes immediately and Angela followed suit. Rolf turned to Susan and told her to get Angela's clothes. "Yes, sir", she said and quickly left to get them. "Come here, Angela", he said to her. The edge in his voice left no doubt about his mood. Angela stepped forward into his space. He held her shoulders for a moment and, like Susan minutes earlier, seemed about to say something. Instead, he took her leash at the point it attached to her collar and led her out of the bedroom and down the hall to another room. It was dark now, and he didn't turn on the light. Instead, he jerked on the leash signaling her to the floor.
When her knees touched the carpet he lifted her nightgown up to her neck and then pulled down on the leash, hard this time, forcing her onto her stomach, the stiff carpet fibers causing her to flinch as they pressed against her erect nipples.
In the dark, she felt his powerful hands pull her up onto all fours. Unhappily, but without surprise, she realized that she was wet and ready for him. He knew it too, but she did not see his smile. Without warning, he straddled her back and forced her mouth open; he forced a small plastic ball into it and fumbled briefly behind her head. Her panic subsided when she realized that she could breath through its many holes. Lifting her by the shoulders, Rolf forced her from all fours onto her knees. After ordering her to put her hands behind her back, Rolf tied her wrists tightly together with a piece of rope.
Finally, he lowered her onto the floor on her side, and using the end of the rope hanging from her bound wrists, wrapped the rope several times around her ankles. When he was finished, Angela lay on her side, gagged and hog-tied, unable to stand or be heard. Moments later, she heard the door close and the soft click of the tumblers in the lock falling into place.
Once, much later that night, Rolf returned, untied her ankles, removed her gag and marched her into the bathroom. As she sat on the toilet, he released his cock from his shorts and, standing between her legs, used her mouth again to relieve himself. Angela, finally beyond humiliation, neither expressed nor felt even a touch of resistance. As she swallowed rapidly, struggling to keep up with him, the issue was settled: he had broken her completely and they both knew it.
He returned her to the dark room, re-tied her wrists to her ankles and put the gag on her again. During the night, Angela heard, or dreamed she heard, loud noises, many footsteps outside her door and occasional thumps and bangs. When she awoke and light was flooding the room, she saw that she was the only thing in it. She was about to call for help when she heard the sounds of something hard contacting flesh and soft whimpers and cries accompanying it. She assumed it was Susan receiving her morning discipline with the rubber paddle. Minutes later the sounds ceased and soon thereafter, the door opened and Susan came in carrying Angela's clothes. She was dressed in jeans, a halter-top and sandals. Kneeling by Angela, she untied her and removed the gag. Finally she unlocked the collar and, gesturing toward the clothes, told her to take a shower and dress.
Angela then found herself in the bathroom alone, luxuriating in a hot shower. She brushed her teeth with her finger, using a nearly empty tube of toothpaste from the medicine cabinet. Now reasonably clean and fully dressed for the first time in a long while, Angela's thoughts turned once again to escape from her madhouse. Only when she flashed back to what had happened to her last night as she sat on the toilet did the feeling of complete helplessness return.
She opened the bathroom door and walked tentatively back to her original bedroom. The bed and the bureau were gone; the curtains were gone; the room was completely empty. Angela moved back to the hallway and stood there uncertainly, straining to hear any sounds from the house. Silence. She crept down the stairs and as the room below came into view, she saw that it too was barren. The house's furnishings and occupants were gone!
Chapter 5: The Bus
Angela threw open the front door, her joy crushed by the sight of Rolf, lounging with a cigarette at the top of the three concrete steps leading down to the sidewalk. He wore jeans and a short sleeved shirt. He looked up at her with his green eyes piercing hers. Again, Angela dropped her gaze and weighed the possibility of just running screaming onto the sidewalk. Surely someone would help her or Rolf would be forced to retreat if she made a public fuss. Her body tensed as she prepared for flight. Rolf, seeming to read her thoughts, rose smoothly to his feet, flicked his cigarette into the gutter and blocked Angela's path.
"Let's go in for a minute", he said as nonchalantly as if he were suggesting his wife make one last check of the house before they left on a trip. Angela stepped back into the living room and stood nervously in the empty room, wondering if she was going to be released, if it was nearly over at last. Rolf had closed the front door and walked behind her. She felt his hand on the back of her neck and from its pressure knew he wanted her to bend forward. Her excitement returned, unwanted but insistent. She despaired at her inability to control her responses as she felt the wetness begin in her untouched pussy.
She bent forward, supporting herself by placing her hands on her knees. She felt her sundress being lifted; she pushed her bottom higher. The air conditioning came on and she felt a waft of cool air at her pussy and her ass. Her senses were all alive. She smelled tiny dust particles stirred by the air conditioner… felt the hem of her dress as it lay across her back, above her ass… heard the crackling of a zipper opening. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly as she felt his stiff organ push into her pussy. He worked his way in slowly. Then, when she felt him put both hands onto her waist, she began to rock slowly back and forth, matching his movements.
As he had the previous night, and earlier in the van, Rolf worked in and out of her contracting pussy with no indication given that he intended to ever stop. Her own orgasm had no effect on him as he continued probing the depths of her vault, his only adaptation to her responses being a slight increase in the force of his thrusts. As before, her climaxes soon were accompanied by discomfort… her pussy and her clit began to protest. Soon the pain matched the pleasure and Angela truly feared another orgasm, sensing that it would bring with it increased pain from her overstimulated channel.
As if knowing somehow that Angela was backing down from the peak, Rolf reached under her and began sharply tweaking her hard nipples. Jolts of pleasure-pain shot through her anew, and shaking her head as she did so, Angela felt the elevator rising again as she neared another climax. She wailed as it came, letting her hands slip down her legs to grasp her ankles. At that, Rolf began to pound her more urgently and guttural sounds from him indicated that he was now focusing on his own release. As his tempo increased, Angela struggled to match it. She now totally abandoned herself, uncaring whether it was pain or pleasure driving her to come.
"Christ… umph… oh…oh", Angela mumbled unintelligibly. Then with the pitch of her voice rising, all of her fear, humiliation, pain and desire melted together to produce an orgasm totally devoid of pleasure. Rather, Angela survived a system crash. Her hands dropped from her ankles and she fell first to her knees and then to the carpeted floor. Rolf had lost his grip on her hips and his cock slipped out when she melted to the floor. Grabbing it urgently, he stroked it a few times and aimed the explosion at the woman collapsed on the floor beneath him. It spattered onto her dress, her legs and her ass. "You", he panted, "are… quite…remarkable".
Angela, still shaking, felt a line of his come drip down across the swell of one ass cheek. From the corner of her eye, she could see him swaying above her, his cock drenched with her juices. She heard herself say it and regretted it instantly, but her mouth formed the words, and her breath spread them throughout the room: "so are you, sir."
Rolf helped her to her feet. Once more he studied her face, searching for an answer to a question he hadn't asked. With a flash of certainty, Angela knew the unasked question. She knew what the answer should be… had to be. This time, she did not drop her eyes, but met his gaze steadily, her heart pounding because she knew the question would be asked, but did not yet know what the answer would be.
Rolf went to the door, stopped and turned to face her. "Look in the closet", he said to her. Angela opened the entry closet. It was empty except for her purse. She snatched the familiar artifact gratefully. There was her familiar makeup, her keys, the half-finished box of Tic-Tacs she'd bought at the airport…long ago it seemed. Closure of a sort occurred. Her panties were in the purse, too.
With a final look – almost one of tenderness – Rolf nodded to her and said "we're going to the West Coast", and walked out into the bright sunlight. Angela followed him and stepped onto the landing, freedom washing over her as she saw Rolf slide the passenger door open and climb into the seat behind the wheel. In the back of the van, through the open passenger door, she saw Susan sitting stiffly on the one unlowered seat, staring straight ahead.
As Angela reached the second step, Susan turned to look at her. The look on her face had many parts, but no whole: sorrow, defiance, excitement and guilt. She smiled at Angela, almost shyly, and managed a tiny smile. Angela's heart was pounding again. A bus pulled up to the corner and stopped, emptying one group of passengers and accepting another.
As she stepped off the third step onto the pavement, Angela smiled back at Susan and turned toward the bus. The last passenger had entered; the driver saw her staring at the bus and looked at her questioningly. Moments later, the bus engine throbbed loudly, and the driver swung the diesel monster away from the curb into the crawling traffic. As the bus passed, the driver glanced absently at the pretty girl in the sundress climbing into the back of a parked van.
Epilogue
Rolf pulled into the turnpike rest area far from the mass of parked trucks. The lone streetlight in that area of the lot cast only a dim glow into the back of the van. The women were asleep on the mattress. Both were dressed in jeans and halter-tops. Both woke when Rolf climbed into the back with them. "Pull your jeans down", he said to them. Angela and Susan fumbled with their belts and their bottoms squirmed in unison against the mattress as they pushed the tight fitting jeans down to their ankles. Rolf pulled them off each of them and then pushed the two women toward each other. They complied without hesitation.
He produced a thin six-inch length of chain with snap closures at each end. With the women silently looking into each other's eyes, Rolf attached the chain first to Angela's pussy ring and then to Susan's. The women held each other, sisters in bondage and, Angela thought wryly, both volunteers. As Rolf left the van, locking the door as he did so, Susan tightened her arms around Angela and kissed her lovingly. Angela responded with some ardor. She knew this was only a substitute, a comfortable diversion she would allow until Rolf was ready to do that trick again…the trick she had experienced three times and for which she had given up her life.
The total cost now uppermost in her mind, and a fleeting thought of her distant master joining it, Angela intertwined her legs with Susan's. Now their pussies met and the chain would pull on neither of them. Angela was quite comfortable in this position; still, her eyes welled up and a tear began the journey down her cheek.
Depending on reader patience, interest and response, there could be a final installment to create a short story trilogy. Otherwise, Len Farlow
The Story of ‘A’ Part II The Journey · Part 4 (4/4)
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