The Story of ‘A’ – 2

The Story of “A” by Len Farlow

(“The Story of ‘A’, Part II, The Journey” is a work of fiction by Len Farlow, who retains all copyright privileges and rights to the story. If you want to profit from it, or wish to contact the author to discuss the story:LF3001@hotmail.com )

NOTE: This story may be read as a stand-alone work of fiction; however, the story development and the motivations of the principal characters will be more coherent for those who have first read The Story of ‘A’ (Part 1).

Chapter 1: The ‘S’ Word

Four years have passed since Len’s first meeting with Angela. Their many visits since then have occurred against the backdrop of significant life changes. Angela is still married, but not to her original husband. She lives in South Florida, closer to her Master now. Len has actually met her new husband, a computer programmer. He is quiet, gentle and totally committed to Angela. She in turn is devoted to him. But, she continues to belong to Len. Perhaps it was her husband’s occupation keeping him buried in his computer far into the night, or his trusting nature, or maybe Angela told him of – and he accepted – her unbreakable link to her Master Len. Whatever the cause, it remained the miles rather than her marriage that kept them apart between visits.

For a while, a second sub and Angela co-existed in his life, but Angela’s star shown so brightly that the other relationship cooled and died, not through disharmony, but through inattention and fading interest. But that is not to say there were no problems.

Late one May afternoon, Angela arrived at Miami airport to see off her brother’s plane after a visit. As he disappeared into the gaping wound at the side of the plane, she gathered her purse, book and sunglasses and, thirsty, headed for the lounge she remembered seeing as they had made their way to the departure gate.

The bar was crowded as she slipped into a tiny booth, but a waitress appeared quickly, clearing the last occupant’s empty glass and napkin from the table. She ordered a Bloody Mary, not the Coke she had originally planned on, smiling wryly to herself as she imagined Len’s raised eyebrow if he knew she was “drinking” in the middle of the day. Several men were standing at the bar talking and idly watching a baseball game on one of the TV sets. She recognized one of them as having been sitting across from her at the gate. Now, as then, she took note of his resemblance to someone she had seen before but could not place. For a moment, their eyes met and Angela quickly looked away. Too late. He separated from the group and approached her table.

“I know this sounds corny”, he said, smiling at her, “but you look very familiar”. She chuckled and said, “I was thinking the same thing.” He put his hand out and said, “My name’s Rolf”, looking closely at Angela, trying to place where he had met her. “It’ll come to me. Are you coming or going?”

” …neither, I was just seeing my brother off” she responded while accepting his offered handshake. Rolf gestured at the empty booth across from Angela, who nodded assent. Their conversation was limited to trying to narrow down where they might have met, what cities they had lived in, what places they had visited. Other than concluding that Rolf was relaxed with strangers, a bit arrogant, and used to live in New Jersey, Angela made no progress in remembering if or where she might have run across him in the past.

As she finished her second drink and glanced at her watch, she realized that their knees had been innocently pressed together in the small booth. She moved her legs to the side to break the contact and tried to signal for the waitress’ attention. Seeing that she was preparing to leave, Rolf said, “hey, have one more with me; I know I’ll figure out where I know you from”. Angela laughed and declined, and allowed her knee to press against his slightly to signal he needed to move his legs in order for her to get out of the booth. Rolf remained where he was and pleaded teasingly for Angela to have just one more.

Finally, with a shrug, Angela smiled and agreed. As she sipped on her third Bloody Mary, Angela began to regret the decision. She was beginning to feel light-headed and then had a moment of panic when she couldn’t remember where she’d parked her car. Rolf looked at her quizzically when she suddenly giggled, “oh, I don’t have my car… we came by cab”. She explained that after they’d loaded her brother’s luggage into her car, they’d discovered her battery was dead and took a cab to the airport. She laughed again as she told him she’d been trying to remember where she’d parked. He laughed with her. “More than two drinks and I become a dingbat”, she announced wryly, noting with a start that the drinks and perhaps the continued knee contact were causing a familiar stirring between her legs… one she knew with certainty she was not going to act upon. As their relationship had deepened, Len had made it very clear to her that sex with men was to be with her husband, with him, or those he chose to share her with, only. Her days of casual flings were over.

When she finished and stood up, Angela realized she was a little unsteady and giggled as Rolf took her arm to steady her. He paid their bill and they joined the crowd flowing toward the baggage and parking areas. Rolf continued to hold her arm, steering her through the crowd while he worked to convince her that could easily drop her off safely at home, since he passed fairly near it on his way to Ft. Lauderdale.

As they left the terminal, Rolf assumed she’d agreed and confidently led her past the cabstand into the parking lot. When they reached his van, black and badly in need of being washed, Angela hesitated for a moment when he opened the passenger door. Finally, she shrugged in mock-surrender when he insistently helped her in. On the highway, Rolf lit two cigarettes, handed her one, and turned the radio to a jazz station. He had said nothing for several miles and Angela leaned back against the seat and listened to the music, grateful to be sitting since she still felt a little dizzy. Dizzy or not, she was careful to keep her knees pressed together, her sundress carefully smoothed out covering them.

When he casually rested his hand on her knee, she imagined she felt the heat of his hand on her knee through the material of her dress. He made no further move, so she remained as she was… dreamily listening to the music, her eyes half closed.

The van slowed and Angela saw that they were approaching a tollbooth. “Where are we?”, she asked sleepily as Rolf paid the toll. “We’re stopping for gas”, Rolf told her matter-of-factly. As he filled the tank and chatted with a lean older man in overalls who seemed to be the owner, Angela took a small mirror from her purse and checked her lipstick and her hair. When Rolf got back in the van, he looked at her approvingly as he started up the engine. She smiled back and turned the radio on. Instead of pulling out into the street, he slowly pulled the van along the side of the gas station and then turned in behind it, stopping in the narrow private alley with rusty metal drums and garbage cans on one side and a graffiti-adorned concrete wall on the other. Beer cans littered the alley, suggesting other visitors had stopped here before. Angela sat up and looked questioningly at Rolf, the alarm bell beginning to sound in her mind.

Rolf made no move toward her space, instead shifting in his seat to face her with his back now against his door. He again lit two cigarettes and handed one to her; she nervously accepted it and was about to ask for an explanation when he dropped his eyes to her lap and said,

“Show!”

———-

Chapter 2: Remembrance

As he knew it would, the single word triggered all the linkages for her. Four years earlier… sounds of the Party reaching them from the ballroom as they had stood by the swimming pool sharing a cigarette. And then, the link to hours before that, when Rolf had approached her in the ballroom, demanding that she “show”. Angela flushed with embarrassment as she realized that the ‘stranger’ sitting in this alley behind the gas station with her had once spread her vaginal lips and peered into her, while a crowd of people idly watched her humiliation. This was very different, though: she was in a van in an alley; this was not the Party; Len was not keeping an eye on her. Now she had been drinking and was facing a situation that should never have reached this point. Rolf’s smile had clearly morphed into a leer. It was now dusk. Very frightened, Angela could not help herself; she began to cry.

Her tears had no effect on her companion. “Show me your pussy, you bitch”, he hissed. “And lose the maidenly act; we both know who and what you are”. Angela made no move to comply until she saw his hand come up from his lap, slowly curling into a fist. “Rolf, please”, she pleaded. “I’m married and…”, her voice trailed off as she saw in his eyes that he was going to have what he wanted from her one way or the other. She lifted her rump off the seat, put one hand under the skirt of her sundress and pulled her panties down below her knees. Then, she turned in her seat to face him, scrunched down against the door, hiked her skirt above her waist and bent and lifted her legs to allow him an unimpeded view of her crotch. Though she had complied, she continued to sob softly, and her eyes continued to plead with him.

“Do you have the same Dom?”, he asked from his side of the seat, still not touching her. “No”, she lied, “I don’t do that anymore. I’m happily married now”. She stopped, knowing she was getting nowhere, and now resigned to the fact that he was going to have sex with her in a van behind a gas station. She knew that her greater pain would come when she tried to explain what had happened to Len. “God, he’s going to kill me when I tell him… and I deserve it”.

Suddenly, Rolf’s hand was at her pussy lips, stroking and probing. With horror, Angela realized that her lie would be found out immediately. Rolf’s fingers had come upon her pussy ring, hanging from her lower lip on the left side. Rolf turned on the inside light, bent down and turned over the metal tab to read the apparently unfinished inscription: “I belong…” As he snapped off the light, he said facetiously, “odd jewelry for an ex-sub”. Angela said nothing, her face red and her eyes closed. The tears had stopped and she could feel them drying on her cheeks.

Rolf withdrew his hand and ordered her to climb in the back. She hesitated and he grabbed her right breast. Squeezing it hard enough to force a scream from her, he began to lift her over the back of the seat one hand gripping her breast and the other under her ass. She tumbled into the back onto a makeshift bed. All but one seat in the back of the van had been lowered and a mattress with a single sheet over it broke her fall. She landed on her stomach and immediately smelled cheap perfume on the sheet. She also was aware of the odors of past sexual encounters coming from the scant bedding.

Rolf stepped out of the van and climbed into the back to join her. Angela had rolled over on her back and lay still, a trapped animal look in her eyes. Without comment, he unzipped his fly and lowered himself onto her. Instinctively, Angela parted her legs and, fully dressed except for her panties, bent her legs slightly to accommodate his body between them. Rolf pushed into her and began to move in and out without a word or gesture of affection. Angela closed her eyes and tried to think of her Master, of her husband, of anything but this. But both her body and her mind betrayed her. Rolf’s cock was drawing strong reactions from her pussy; she did not see it, but could feel it’s great thickness and the subtle cunning with which he controlled it. Her arms were now around his waist and she found herself rising to meet his thrusts

When she began to moan, Rolf covered her lips with his and his tongue entered her mouth… probing it as insistently as his cock did her lower orifice. Soon thereafter, Angela felt the rippling in her leg and abdominal muscles that signaled her impending climax. When it came, it was shattering. She tossed her head from side to side repeating “my God, oh my God”, over and over. Still he fucked her, now putting both hands under her ass and lifting her off the mattress. The now even deeper penetration triggered another orgasm, followed by several more in close succession. Angela tightened her grip around Rolf as her excitement mounted. After one more rolling climax, Angela cried out “ohhh” and went limp.

Rolf lowered her to the mattress and sat up. She looked up at him, perspiration stinging her eyes and mingling with the dried tears on her face. She didn’t know what to say, and Rolf merely studied her face, saying nothing either. Finally, the silence was broken when Angela looked down and saw that Rolf’s cock was standing straight up, glistening across its total length with her juices. Despite the prolonged period he’d fucked her he had not come. “You didn’t finish yet?”, she asked incredulously. Her training driving her, Angela bent to take the shaft into her mouth, but he stopped her and nudged her over onto her stomach. Once there, he reached under her stomach and pulled her up into a hands and knees position. Then, pressing her chest down onto the mattress, he positioned his cock at the smaller entrance offered by her all-fours position. Angela was fully broken in for anal sex now, but even relaxing as she had learned, and pushing gently outward, her sphincter muscle protested as the large cock entered her. Len always used a lubricating cream when he took her this way, but Rolf entered coated with only the moisture left on his cock from her pussy to ease the entry.

Rolf knew that the moans he heard reflected some pleasure, but also considerable pain as he reached the end of his entry and felt his stomach against her ass. “It’s too big… it hurts a lot”, Angela moaned. “Please, Master, take it out for a minute”. Angela had called Rolf ‘Master’ without thinking and they both knew what had happened in that moment. Angela was so shocked by what she had said, and the feelings that had prompted it, that she forgot the pain she felt in her ass and focused instead on the waves of guilt that were washing over her. She knew now that she would not tell Len the entire story; she could not tell him that the ‘rape’ might have really been seduction, and that she had been moved sexually beyond anything she could remember.

Her musings ended as Rolf took her nipple, through her dress and bra, between his thumb and forefinger and twisted the hard knob roughly. As he began to move back and forth in her ass, he intensified his handling of first one and then the other nipple. The combined assault on her nipples and her ass became so strong that Angela felt tears coming again and her moans were being replaced by sobs. Rolf seemed to ignore her response and stretched her nipple out from the breast. She screamed again, but that seemed to have no effect on Rolf’s manual actions; he did, however increase the speed of his thrusts as he moved in her ass. Finally, his roar drowned out her cries and with a final powerful thrust that flattened Angela onto the mattress, he kept his stomach pressed hard against her ass as he ejaculated deep in her bowel. Angela could hardly believe that she too was coming again, despite the fact that her pussy had not so much as been touched.

When Angela turned over and sat up, she saw that Rolf had zipped up his fly and was rolling down the window to talk to the old man who was standing at the window. She pulled the hem of her sundress down to cover her groin, but reddened again when they both laughed at this sudden display of girlish modesty. Angela knew the station owner had seen most of what happened in the back of the van.

Rolf got out of the van, and when Angela started to follow, he told her to lay down and stay where she was. Angela obeyed, and did not have to open her eyes to know that the rustling sounds and slight movement of the van that commenced shortly thereafter meant that the station owner was crawling into the van with her.

Her visit from the lank, grease-covered man was mercifully short. Aroused by the show she and Rolf had staged for him, he had pulled his pants down in preparation for mounting her. Angela began yelling and cursing at him, simultaneously kicking at his crotch. Whether it was the noise or the single on-target kick, his interest waned and he slid the door open and shuffled down the alley. Angela searched frantically for her panties, then, realizing her priorities, climbed out the door and started down the alley toward the street. As she neared the street, her confidence growing with sight of a steady stream of cars passing by, Angela became aware of a strong urge to use a bathroom. Once this part of her nightmare ended, that would become her first order of business. Suddenly, Rolf stepped out of a shadow and grabbed her arm so tightly as to produce a numbness radiating through her arm; maintaining his painful grip, he walked her silently back to the van. Still holding her arm, he slid the door open and fished around in the glove compartment.

Without warning, Angela found herself pushed roughly against the van. A foot kicked her feet apart causing her to fall forward as her balance was jeopardized. While she stood tilted forward against the van, he pulled her hands behind her back, leaving only her breasts to cushion her contact with the side of the vehicle, and snapped handcuffs around her wrists. Rolf turned her around, lifted her into his arms, and deposited her on the mattress she had left so recently. Still without a word to her, he slid behind the wheel and quickly drove away. Angela rolled onto her side on the mattress to relieve the pain in her wrists from the handcuffs. Her mind searched furiously for a rational defense in this crisis. No course of action she conjured up seemed to have a chance of success. Her only escape in the next few hours would come if he let her go on his own. Toward that end, Angela allowed the tears that were near the surface anyway to come out. She began to beg Rolf to let her go home. She swore to him that she would never tell about what had happened.

He remained mute and Angela accepted that seeking pity from this man was not going to work. The begging stopped and soon after, so did the tears. Rolf pulled the van into the far reaches of a huge mall parking lot. He got into the back seat and held a rubber ball with several straps dangling from it in front of Angela’s face. “I’m putting this on you to keep you from bothering me with any more chatter and to make sure no stranger hears you while I’m in the Burger King… getting you something to eat, by the way.” Before she could plead or comment he pushed the red rubber ball against her lips and squeezed her cheeks together. Her mouth opened and the ball was quickly half in and half out of the large “o” that was her widely stretched mouth. He secured the straps behind her head and Angela could now only utter muffled grunts and groans.

Several minutes later, he pulled into a small, well-lit lot and Angela, lying mute on her side, could tell from the smells in the air that they were near a burger joint. He left the van for a few minutes and when her returned, tossed a paper bag into the back seat. It landed on the mattress near her. Rolf told her to get on her knees and put her head over the seat. Thankful that the ball gag was coming out, Angela complied immediately and he unhooked the contraption, which she spit out thankfully.

He then started the van and waited for a clearing in the traffic to get back onto the street. “Rolf, thank you. I am very hungry… but I need to go, you know, to the bathroom.” Rolf did not answer, and soon had darted the van back onto the street and into the traffic flow. Angela tried again twice over the next few minutes, but Rolf had turned the radio on again and, although he surely heard her, did not answer. Finally, the smell of the hamburger in the bag brought hunger to the forefront of her mind and she asked if he would uncuff her hands so she could eat the burger. Once again, Rolf ignored her totally. Finally, she knelt in front of the bag and, using her lips and teeth only, was soon able to get the now cold hamburger out of the bag and onto the mattress. Not caring how ridiculous she looked tearing at the meat like a dog, her hands still locked behind her back, she ate the sandwich. Rolf glanced at her in the mirror, smiled too himself, and wove through the traffic smoothly while his cargo finished her meal.

Chapter 3: Housebound

Shortly after she finished wolfing down the meal, Angela, still on her knees, saw that they had entered a residential neighborhood of small, neat homes. They pulled into a driveway and soon the garage door rose and Rolf pulled the van into the garage. He pushed the remote hanging from the sun visor again, and the door closed behind them. Once out of the van, he slid the door back with a loud bang, and reached inside to pull her out of the vehicle. She stood silently in front of him, afraid to speak. Rolf withdrew a key from his pocket and turning her roughly, unlocked the cuffs and threw them into the open van.

Angela rubbed her wrists as he was sliding the door closed. Then, the door to the house opened and a stunningly beautiful girl dressed in a halter and shorts stepped into the garage, glanced only momentarily at Angela, and then walked quickly to Rolf. He kissed her perfunctorily on the cheek and then gestured her back into the kitchen; he followed, pulling Angela by the wrist behind him. The kitchen table was set for two and the girl, who had neither looked at Angela again nor spoken to her, went to the oven and wearing huge oven mitts, pulled something from it and brought it to the table, 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.

Susan interrupted her musings with a comment to Rolf, “she is a noisy one, isn’t she Sir?” “Yes, Rolf responded with good humor, but then she hasn’t had the benefit of the training you have”. 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 after the news. Unnecessarily, he added, “don’t go anywhere”.

When the door closed, Angela sank to the bed, her hands feeling her still burning ass and her sobs subsiding a little. Moments later, other hands at her back softly urged her to turn over and Susan took her gently into her arms. Despite the surreal nature of the moment, Angela gratefully accepted the friendly gesture. She did not resist. Instead, she put her arms around Susan and, burying her face at Susan’s neck, cried softly as Susan whispered sympathetic words to her and lightly stroked her back, neck and hair.

Licking her dry lips again, Angela gave herself up to the childish pleasure of being comforted by a wiser more knowledgeable adult. She drifted in and out of sleep, numbly aware that she and Susan lay in each other’s arms and that their lips met frequently in gentle and prolonged kisses.

She awoke to Rolf putting her foot into his lap as he started to remove her ankle cuff. “Do you have to pee?”, he asked. Angela nodded, her eyes downcast. “I asked you a question”, he said angrily, smacking the side of her thigh with a loud clap. Angela winced and answered quickly, “yes, thank you, sir”. “Take her with you”, he said to Susan, and stretched out on the bed watching idly as Susan took Angela’s hand and led her to the bathroom. Susan went first, smiling as she saw that Angela averted her eyes with some embarrassment. “You next”, she said wiping herself and slowly standing up as she dropped the piece of paper into the bowl. Miserably, Angela sat down and, eyes closed, relieved herself in the unflushed toilet. After wiping, she flushed the results of their joint pee, and stepped to the sink to wash her hands. Susan stood behind her and Angela sensed that Susan would put her arms around her waist. Susan started to do just that when Rolf opened the door and walked to the toilet. He lifted the lid and laughed as Angela ran from the small room. Susan dashed after her to make sure Angela remained in the bedroom.

Rolf joined the girls standing next to the bed. He wore only his shorts while the two girls remained naked. “Get two night collars” he ordered, and Susan immediately opened the chest and after a moment returned with two very wide locking collars. Without being told, she put one around her neck and turned around with her back to Rolf so he could lock it. He did so and Angela saw that the very wide collar forced her to keep her head high. She knew immediately that she was going to have trouble sleeping wearing this contraption. Susan had handed the other collar to Rolf, who now put in on the unprotesting Angela. He took Susan to the edge of the bed and locked the leash into its ring at the top of the bed.

Angela sat at the other side of the bed and waited. When Rolf came around to her, he nudged her knees apart with his leg and stood between her now open legs. Angela licked her dry lips nervously. “Sorry I forgot about you being thirsty”, he said with mock apology as he saw her test her lips. “But I don’t need to go now”. But maybe I can help you a little.

With that, he pulled his shorts down and took his now soft cock in his hand. As he began to stroke it, he gave Angela her instructions. “Open your mouth and keep it open just past the end of my cock. Don’t touch me with you hands or your mouth; just be ready to drink”. As his cock hardened and began to lengthen, Angela adjusted her position slightly to keep the tip of his penis from touching her lips. Angela found the collar she wore actually useful in her present predicament as it helped her keep her head up in the proper position to receive his come.

Angela was no stranger to “cocktails”, but she could not recall ever receiving one in this fashion. It was humiliating being involved only at the end, being used only as a receptacle. When Rolf spurted, Angela, out of habit, almost closed her lips around the tip of his penis to suck any unexpelled come from the tube. Catching herself in time, she closed her mouth and swallowed. Then she ran her tongue over her lips to capture any stray come that may have landed there. She swallowed again despite her humiliation, painfully grateful for the small drink he had given her.

Rolf got into bed with them, again with Susan in the middle. As she continued to lick her somewhat parched lips, searching for even a little moisture, Angela felt Susan’s arm go across her waist and her hand close over one globe of her ass. It felt good, and Angela made no move to escape the touch. A few minutes later, the hand was withdrawn when Rolf pulled Susan onto her back, lifted her legs over his shoulder and, without a word or a moment of foreplay, began to probe at the opening to her pussy. Because she was dry, his entry was uncomfortable for Susan, and her whimper was clearly audible to Angela who moved once again to the extreme edge of the bed.

As Rolf fucked her, Susan’s reaction rapidly changed. His first few strokes had caused her to lubricate and she mewed with pleasure as he worked his cock back and forth inside her. Again, Rolf put his hands under her ass and lifted her hips to suspend her lower body. Holding her rigidly against him, Rolf began to move faster and ground his stomach against hers at the bottom of each stroke. Susan began to beg for permission to come. Over and over she repeated, “please, sir, please”. At last, Rolf pulled her to him and held her tightly there as his cock throbbed several times sending his come into Susan’s pussy. He had said nothing to her, so Angela assumed Susan had not gotten the requested permission. Her assumption was confirmed when Rolf said to Susan, “good girl, I really didn’t want to have to whip you again so soon. Maybe tomorrow”. If Susan was unhappy or irritated about being left unsatisfied, she made no indication of that fact, saying only “thank you, sir”. Her gratitude even sounded genuine.

Rolf rose up on one elbow, looking across Susan to Angela. “If you are still thirsty, babe, you can go on down south and lick out my come”. He laughed when Angela, saying nothing in response to his cold crudity, snapped her head around to face away from him and Susan. Minutes later, while Rolf dozed, softly snoring, Angela felt Susan’s fingertips at her lips. There was a wet stickiness on them, and the familiar aroma of come. Tears forming unseen in the darkened room, Angela parted her lips slightly to take Susan’s fingers into her mouth to lick off the moisture she found there. Twice, Susan withdrew her fingers, pushed them into her pussy, and returned them to Angela’s waiting mouth.

Chapter 4: The Next Day

The following morning, Angela awoke first. Unlike every morning going back as long as she could remember, Angela felt no urgent need to pee. Her neck felt uncomfortable in the restricting collar she’d worn all night. She looked over and saw that Susan was awake, staring at the ceiling with a strangely pinched look on her face. Angela prepared to whisper to her when Susan again brought her finger to her own lips signaling silence. Turning her eyes quickly toward the other side of the bed, she was able to make it clear to Angela that they must not speak for fear of awakening Rolf.

Angela turned onto her back and was alone with her thoughts, her eyes also now fixed vacantly on the ceiling. As she absently ran her tongue over her lips, she was startled to feel that they were not only dry, but felt thinner than usual, and her muscles too felt odd, strangely weak. She tried to remember how long a person could live without water. But she could not remember that, nor how long it had been since she’d had a drink… her face reddening as she added to her musings, “not counting Rolf’s come.”

She glanced over at Susan again; she had not moved but the pained expression on her face remained and she was clenching and unclenching her fist. Finally she leaned over and, placing her lips inside the cup of Susan’s ear asked, “are you OK?” Susan nodded affirmatively and mouthed the words “need to pee”. Angela shook her head. She didn’t comprehend. On Susan’s second try, Angela was able to decipher the silent message. “That bastard”, she thought, “won’t even let her wake him for permission to go to the bathroom!” Then, her anger subsided as she realized ruefully that there were much crazier things going on than that. Her eyes still fixed on the ceiling, Angela felt Susan’s hand slip over hers and impart a reassuring squeeze.

After nearly an hour of ceiling watching, the women stiffened alertly as Rolf stirred, stretched and sat up. “Good morning ladies”, he intoned gravely, as if coming upon two casual acquaintances at a bus stop. “Good morning, Sir”, Susan responded immediately. Angela said nothing, her anger rising again. Rolf ignored her and bent over to kiss Susan on the forehead. He sat up again and looked closely at Angela’s face.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom?”, he asked innocently.

“Yes, sir, please. May I?”

“In a minute”, he answered pushing himself up from the bed and beginning to perform formal stretching exercises. After a few minutes, he sat back down on the bed and slapping Susan playfully on her stomach said, “why don’t you go pee now, little one”.

Susan answered immediately, “yes sir; thank you sir”, and scrambled out of bed and walked quickly into the bathroom. Through the still open door, Angela heard Susan flood the toilet and her sigh of relief. Rolf was smiling. Angela decided to take advantage of his obvious good mood. “Sir”, she began submissively, “I am very thirsty; please, may I have a drink?” Relief washed over her as Rolf nodded in assent and gently rolled her onto her side so he could unlock her sleeping collar. When it was off, he placed it on the nightstand and handed her the thin leather collar he’d used the previous day with her leash. Angela, anxious not to anger him in any way, took it and began to fasten it around her neck. As he removed the ankle cuff tethering her to the bed, he said approvingly, “good girl.”

“May I go and get a drink now, sir”, Angela asked in her most submissive voice… her eyes downcast so as not to meet his.

“Sure”, he said, “go ahead”. Angela thanked him and, putting her legs over the side of the bed, rose unsteadily to her feet. Rolf stood up too. Susan came out of the bathroom and, without a word, draped herself over the back of the easy chair by the window. Reaching down, she grabbed the arms of the chair and remained silently bent over the chair, her ass the highest part of her bent body. Although startled, Angela ignored Susan and started to the bathroom, her eyes on the glass she saw perched on the toothbrush holder.

Just as she reached the doorway to the bathroom, Rolf’s asked forbiddingly, “where are you going?” With his hand, he motioned her to come to him. Making no effort to mask her distress, she approached him slowly, her head slightly bowed and her eyes down. “Why the hangdog look, little one?”, he said with amusement. “You can have a drink”. He stood there expectantly with his hands on his hips. “Kneel down”. Angela realized instantly that he was again going to offer her what he knew she would refuse; the cruel game was continuing. Rolf would not openly force her to take his stream into her mouth, although she knew he could. He intended to keep her so thirsty that the drive for self-preservation would defeat that for self-esteem, and she would ask for it. His order to kneel was straightforward though; it only implied further humiliation, so Angela lowered herself awkwardly to her knees, her motor control so affected by fluid deprivation that her natural physical grace had deserted her. “Are you ready for your drink?”, he asked smugly, wishing to complete her humiliation by making her ask out loud for her debasement. Angela knew she was beaten, but still could not bear to admit this defeat. She shook her head no, and kneeling before him, steeled herself for whatever he would do to express his anger at her continuing defiance.

To her amazement, Rolf laughed, said, “suit yourself”, and turned to Susan who lay silently bent over the chair. He withdrew a wide rubber paddle from the bureau, and carefully measuring his distance from her, took up his position behind her. “Tell our guest why I am going to paddle you”, he ordered. Susan, her voice muffled because her mouth was against the seat of the stuffed chair said, “I am paddled every morning to remind me to behave that day, and as a reminder that my master is free to do whatever he desires with me.” No sooner had the final word been spoken than Rolf swung the paddle and a loud crack sounded as it connected with Susan’s tautly stretched bottom. Rolf, his cock bouncing about as he paddled his submissive, alternated from one cheek to the other, pausing momentarily to allow the sting from each blow to register with his victim.

Unaccountably, Angela found herself silently counting the strokes as she remained kneeling in the middle of the room, watching Susan’s punishment. At the twelfth stroke, Susan’s silence ended and a soft “ohh” escaped from her lips. From that point on, each stroke produced an audible response from the helpless girl, those responses gradually increasing in volume. At stroke 25, Rolf put his arm down, the paddle held loosely in his hand as he told Susan “you may stand up now to be finished”. Susan pushed herself to her feet and turned to face her master. She put her arms behind her head, grasped her hands together, and stood silently facing Rolf her bright red ass cheeks visibly throbbing. Her eyes were closed and her face peaceful. Rolf raised the rubber paddle again and told Susan to open her eyes. When she had done so, he delivered two blows to each of her breasts, his target being the globes themselves, not touching the hard buds that tipped them. “Finishing” must always be four strokes Angela thought, because after the fourth, Susan immediately took her hands from behind her neck, bent forward and held her breasts in her hands, trying to rub the pain from them. Rolf had already turned away and tossed the paddle back into the drawer.

“Susan, get dressed and get breakfast started”, Rolf said not looking at her. “Angela, come with me”. Rolf helped her to her feet and led her into the bathroom by the hand. Her heart leaped as she saw her bra and panties neatly folded on top of a wicker laundry hamper. Her opened the medicine cabinet and withdrew a roll of adhesive tape. After pulling six inches of it off the roll, he cut it on the little teeth at the end of the roll and turned to place it over Angela’s mouth. Angela, only her eyes betraying her fear at this unexpected development, stood stoically in front of him as he sealed the tape across her mouth. When he was satisfied that her lips were completely sealed, he turned the shower on, adjusted the temperature, and motioned for her to get in. Rolf followed her in and nudged her out from under the spray so he could get under it himself. Without comment, he began soaping himself. He handed her the soap and turned away from her and told her to soap his back.

Angela did as she was told, thinking ruefully how this common tableau of domestic harmony was so misleading. From the moment he had stood naked by the bed until now, Angela had experienced a bundle of conflicting emotions. Her original terror had now moved down several notches to occasional bouts of fear, interrupted from time to time, she had to admit to herself, by brief moments of arousal. The latter came as familiar aspects of her relationship with Len were played out in this strange house among Rolf, Susan and herself. Since her abduction, the man whose back she was soaping had violated her once in each of her openings. Angela was very ashamed not only that she had responded sexually to the rape of her mouth, her anus and her pussy, but also because she had already decided that she would not tell Len of her responses, only of the acts themselves.

Rolf turned and took the soap from her hands. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her effortlessly away from him and began to do her back. After the soap was on, Rolf slowly drew his nails up and down her back, sending Angela into near spasms of innocent pleasure. He could not know it, but having her soapy back scratched was one of Angela’s most cherished moments. He handed her the soap and stepped out of the shower leaving her, her mouth taped shut, to finish washing herself on her own. “You’re having cereal and toast for breakfast… no milk of course”, he added, with a chuckle. “You prefer Corn Flakes or Cheerios?” Angela contemplated her choices of dry cereal for only a moment. She knew more important choices and judgments had to made and made soon.

Len, whose presence Angela had fought to keep from her mind as she endured this self-made disaster, suddenly summoned up his counsel. Where she had experienced uncertainty as to what would or would not please him, and what decisions were hers to make, he had told her more than once that there would be times when she had to use own judgement… but that she would have to accept the consequences of those judgements. Corn Flakes or Cheerios, resist or obey, life or death, Len or Rolf. Choices… never Angela’s strongest suit.

Rolf finished toweling himself off and, after hanging the towel over the shower door, lifted the toilet seat. Angela stepped from the shower and, water dripping from her hair and body, wordlessly knelt next to Rolf and put her hands on the sides of his thighs to gently urge him to turn from the toilet to face her. Rolf let the seat drop back down and widened his stance as he reached down and took his cock loosely in his hand. Angela shifted her hands to hold on to the backs of Rolf thighs as she steadied herself on her knees in front of him.

Rolf smiled down at Angela and pulled the tape off of her mouth. Her tongue flicked out tentatively testing her dry lips; Rolf could see very tiny cracks in them beginning at the corners of her mouth. “These are the rules at this drinking fountain”, Rolf began: “don’t touch my cock in any way, not with your hands, your lips or your tongue. If I am going to let you drink, you will drink it all. If one drop ends up on the floor, you will be extremely sorry. Is everything clear?” “Yes sir”, Angela replied, and holding tightly onto his thighs, moved her head forward until her open mouth was at the small opening at the end of his cock. Opening her mouth as wide as she could, she leaned further forward so that the tip of his cock disappeared, untouched, into her mouth.

Afterwards, Rolf tossed one of Susan’s nightgowns to Angela. She accepted it without commenet and slipped if quickly over her head. Downstairs, Susan had finished her breakfast preparations and called upstairs to announce that it was ready. Several minutes later, Angela in a nightgown and Rolf dressed in slacks and a golf shirt, sat down at the table. “Cheerios, please”, Angela answered when Susan asked her what cereal she wanted. Rolf slowly pushed the carton of milk toward her. As she picked it up to pour on her cereal Angela said without looking him in the eye, “thank you sir”, very much aware that her surrender to Rolf’s demand about what she was to drink had resulted in a reward.

After breakfast, Angela was put into her day collar and leashed to the sofa in front of the TV. Neither Rolf nor Susan paid any attention to her for several hours, leaving Angela alone with he thoughts and the accompanying drone of TV soap operas. Her thoughts were of Len and her husband, the former almost certainly now either angry, worried or both by her absence.

Just before noon, Susan came into the room and apologetically removed the small lock that attached Angela’s leash to the couch and led her back upstairs and to the bathroom. “I am to go in with you” she said, her embarrassment evident at her need to invade Angela’s privacy. Angela needed to pee and move her bowels. With Susan looking away but still holding the leash, Angela did both. After she washed her hands, Angela tested the change in her rules by picking up the glass, rinsing it out and filling it. Susan watched but said nothing as Angela drank the water.

When she had finished, Susan led her to the bed and told her to lie down. Warily, Angela did so, suddenly feeling embarrassed and fearful at being on the bed naked with the fully dressed Susan attaching her leash to the headboard. Susan sat on the bed next to her, and seeing the trapped animal look that had come over Angela, said, “don’t worry”. Then, as if afraid she’d said too much, Susan squeezed her hand briefly and hurried out of the room. Minutes later, Rolf came in, kicked off his shoes and sat down on the bed next to her, in the same spot Susan had just vacated.

He looked directly at her until she dropped her eyes, nervous again about meeting his gaze. “Turn over”, he commanded. Angela did as instructed, turning onto her stomach, resting her head on her arms. Angela tensed as she felt him lift the back of her nightgown above her waist. Wordlessly, Rolf got up and went to the bureau; she was not surprised to see him withdraw the rubber paddle from the drawer. It appeared to be the same one that was used on Susan that morning. Without explanation, Rolf began paddling her, all the blows falling on her ass and upper thighs. Angela lay quietly, her face buried in her pillow and tried not to move her ass or legs. 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.

– The End –