A Great Volume of Trouble · Part 2

A Great Volume of Trouble · Part 2 (2/2)
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“Promise me or I will leave you alone here with Marx.”

Erika nodded, sobbing into her gag. She still couldn’t twist her mind around what was happening to her. Together, the strangers picked her up off the floor and carried her to the back door and to the alley behind the store. There idling was her Buick and the trunk was already open. Quickly the couple set her inside and closed the trunk lid down, plunging her into darkness.

Once again, Erika struggle futilely at her bondage as she felt the car being driven. Even though it was a large trunk, Erika was beginning to feel very claustrophobic bound there in the dark.

She didn’t think that the couple would kill her. They would have done that already since they had everything they needed to get into her house and get their precious book. She had wished she had read that book last night to see what kind of book it was to drive someone do such a thing. She could see someone resorting to theft for a copy of Blake’s ‘Tales of innocence and experience’ or a first edition of Poe’s ‘Mystery and Imagination’, but she had never had even heard of this author nor the book.

Erika lived about a forty minute drive away in a new, comfortable suburb. It gave Erika plenty of time to try to affect an escape. She scooted around, feeling for anything to try to loosen or cut the cords binding her hands. She wished she had paid more attention to how the trunk was laid out and what was inside.

Then the car slowed, then stopped.

“They couldn’t have gotten there already,’ Erika thought to herself, ‘No, they couldn’t have.’

Then the car started up again only to drive the short distance into the garage. She heard the door open and the latch on the trunk pop open.

Erika looked up at the brunette, this time she was wearing a blonde wig.

“I am so glad you had a garage door opener, dear, it saved us from trying to sneak you in,” she smiled.

Erika looked around but she didn’t see the man.

“Don’t you worry, Erika Adams, Marx is letting himself in the front and soon will meet us her to take you inside,” the woman said, taking off her wig.

“For the neighbors, dear,” she said, “Behind the tinted glass you would really have to look to see that it wasn’t you. However, no one was peeking out their curtained little windows so we are all safe with our little secret.”

A few moments later, the bald-headed Marx appeared by her side. Without a word, he wrestled her out of the trunk and carried her inside, following the brunette.

“Let’s take her into the bedroom where she will be a bit more comfortable,” Erika heard the woman say as Marx took her through her living room and up the carpeted stairway, carrying her like a sack over his right shoulder.

The bedroom was one place Erika did not want to be put. The brunette’s words and her gentle caresses still echoed in her mind. The blonde yelled into her gag and shook her head as Marx continued to carry her.

“Now, now, dear. Everything will turn out as it is supposed to if you stop making a fuss,” Miss Roberts smiled as she followed Marx up the stairs, “So please, Erika Adams, please stop…”

Then the brunette leaned forward and whispered into the brunette’s ear, “…you are making me horny.”

Marx felt his squirming bundle stop squirming as he made his way through the bedroom doors. The master suite was large and dominated by a huge mission-style bed, a perfect place to put her while they searched for the book. The bed was high enough off of the floor that their captive would think twice before trying to wriggle her way off of it.

Marx carefully set the woman down while his partner crawled up in bed beside her.

“Home, sweet home dear,” the brunette smiled as she curled up facing Erika, “Now, Marx here is going to take that nasty gag out of your mouth again and you are going tell us exactly where you have put our client’s book. Any fuss and we may have to do things you may not enjoy. Do you understand that, dear Erika?”

Erika nodded her head. The sooner these people were out of her life, the better.

“That’s a good girl,” the brunette patted her on the head.

Once again, she felt the ropes around her head loosen and Marx extracted the black cloth. So took a minute to swallow before replying to the couple’s question.

“It is right beside you,” Erika said, “On my nightstand. Please let me…”

Marx pushed the cloth back into her mouth and retied the rope holding it in.

The brunette rolled over and looked and sure enough, there was the book; a small, burgundy leather bound book with its title embossed in gold leaf. It was an once-in-a-lifetime moment. Here it was, Dr. Geoffrey Brand’s manual for the husbands of his graduates. For decades, Dr. Brand hosted a training school for women second-to-none, teaching his wards submissiveness and the sexual arts not practiced on the continent. His time in India coupled with his concubine Indira made for a magical blend of ‘classes’ in his school. Within the covers of that book were basically how to treat your slave/wife including the riding-crop commands she was expected to obey. Only several hundred of these were ever produced, one for each ‘graduate’. And now she and Marx would have their own copy to use.

Quickly the brunette rolled off of the bed and picked up the small book. In her hands, it felt like the holy grail.

“Thank you, dear Erika, you do not know how much this means to our client,” the brunette turned back to the bound woman, “Now we have to prepare you for your husband’s return!”

It was the gleeful way the strange woman had said it that sent icy daggers through her gut. They had the book why wouldn’t they just go.

The brunette rolled Erika over onto her front while her partner undid her hogtie. After undoing the rope, the couple rolled Erika back over where the brunette climbed back into the bed and straddled the poor, bound woman.

Erika began to struggle anew as she felt the man’s hands reach and her skirt and unfastened its hooks. Erika bucked and squirmed as much as she could but it was in vain as she felt her skirt’s zipper being pulled down.

“Now, now, dear Erika, it isn’t what you think,” Miss Roberts said as she looked into Erika’s blue eyes and smiled, “Or maybe it is!”

Erika felt her skirt being pulled off over her bound legs. She now regretted this morning’s decision to wear her garter belt and stockings. Her black lace panties covered very little and was meant for her husband’s eyes only.

Looking behind her, the brunette grinned, “I see you dressed for the occasion.”

Erika felt the embers of her embarrassment flushing her skin red as she felt her suit jacket being unbuttoned slowly. The bound woman closed her eyes tightly as each button was slipped out of its hole. Erika also felt each of her shoes being taken off and cast aside.

Nearly every woman has had fantasies about being raped and Erika was no exception. Teenage dreams of pirates and gold and being bound and taken to far away lands fueled her dreams and choices of romance novels. Yet she had never taken it further than that and neither had her boyfriends or her husband. If they had fantasies, they kept them to themselves, unlike their hands.

Now Erika was in that taboo fantasy world as she wasn’t sure that she was liking it.

Erika felt her jacket being open up and she knew the buttons on her blouse would be next. Instead, she felt the brushing of the brunette’s fingertips over her breasts through the blouse, gently teasing at her nipples.

“Yes, I thought so dear, you are enjoying this a bit, aren’t you?” the brunette said.

Erika flushed from embarrassment again. The gentle caresses caused her nipples to stiffen and sent little sparks of pleasure swirling through her like fireflies. Slowly she felt the buttons of her blouse being undone as the brunettes warm fingertips traced over her skin.

The ropes around the statuesque blonde’s ankles loosened as Marx gently untied them, only the tie a loop around each of her ankles, drawn tight around one of the posts on either side of her footboard. The rope around her knees was next, cast away like her skirt.

Then Marx pulled on each of her ankle ropes, pulling her legs apart.

Erika began pleading into her gag and shaking her head.

“Quiet, my dear Erika, quiet,” the brunette whispered quietly as she continued to unbutton the bookseller’s silken blouse.

As her legs were stretched apart as far as they could go, the last button parted from its hole and the woman opened Erika’s blouse revealing the blonde’s large breasts and pale pink nipples stiff from the brunette’s attentions.

Erika felt the woman gently ease the blouse off of her shoulders along with her jacket. She then watched helplessly as the bald-headed man lifted her up into a sitting position and the woman put her arms around her to keep her there. Erika felt her elbow’s bonds being loosened and removed and her jacket and blouse pushed down her arms past her rope-sore elbows.

Then Marx retied them and then did the same with her wrists, pulling both her jacket and blouse off but instead of retying them, he forced them in front of her where the brunette grab a hold of each wrist.

“Now remember what I said about making a fuss,” the brunette said looking into Erika’s eyes.

Erika felt the ropes around her elbows part again and for a brief second she thought about fighting of this woman, but she knew she couldn’t with her legs still bound as they were. More than likely, it would end in a painful lesson so she didn’t struggle as Marx retied her wrists in front of her and pulled them over her head, forcing Erika to lay back onto the bed as he lashed her wrists to the slatted headboard until she could hardly move.

Again, Erika was struck by the fact that everything about this seemed smoothed and practiced, as if the couple had done this time and time again. She watched helplessly as Marx gathered up her clothes and left the bedroom.

Still straddling the blonde, the woman began to gently pinch Erika’s nipples, sending more warm flickers of pleasure sparking though her and causing her to moan quietly behind her gag.

“Now that we are alone,” the brunette whispered, “I just wanted to say how tempting you are, bound here on your bed. Now, where do you keep your marital aids, Erika Adams dear?”

Erika glanced briefly over at her nightstand before realizing what she had done.

“Thank you, dear.”

The brunette rolled off of the bound woman and opened the drawer. There was amongst the reading glasses and highlighters and flashlights a pair of vibrators and some lotions. Both vibes were of the battery operated kind that suited her just fine. Taking some K-Y, the brunette lubricated the vibrator generously before kneel between Erika’s spread legs.

Erika watched helplessly as her captor eased her lace panties over and spread her lips. She could feel the nudge of the vibrator as the brunette gently pushed it inside of her, making sure it was all the way in before putting Erika’s panties back in place.

“Now, dear, we will be leaving you, but,” the brunette turned on the vibrator on high, “but we will leave this to keep you company until your husband comes home. I will write him a very sexy letter asking him to take every advantage of your situation until he has had his fill. Marx is leaving the trail of your clothes to lead him here and I can imagine it won’t take him long at all to enjoy your many treasures while you are a bit on the helpless side. By the time your romance is ending we will be very far away. So, Erika Adams, enjoy our little parting gift.”

With that, the brunette kissed Erika on the forehead and produced from the jacket pocket a black velvet scarf which she tied over the blonde’s eyes.

“Again, sweet dreams, Erika Adams.”

As the brunette left, she could a sworn she heard the bound woman moan as if in pleasure. Yes, her husband was in for the treat of his life.

-end-

Or visit my weblog at http://fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/. Any and all comments are welcomed and appreciated.

Since it is usually a long space of time between postings and re-postings of this story, I am compiling a mailing list so that you can receive chapters as they are produced. Or visit my weblog at http://fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/. Any and all comments are welcomed and appreciated.

A Great Volume of Trouble · Part 2 (2/2)
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