Chapter 4
Joan watched the lights of the bus spread across the black trees as they rounded a curve in the road. The ride seemed endless and she was hoping they would be stopping soon. Willy was curled up on the seat next to her. He snored in his sleep and she smiled to herself. She felt like a satisfied kitten now and relaxed in her seat as a few buildings flashed by, and then a street light, and in a few moments the bus pulled up to a stop in front of a dark building.
"Willy-wake up. I think we're stopping. Wake up!"
Willy opened his eyes slowly and blinked. A light from the street shone directly into the back of the bus and hurt his eyes.
"Where are we? What is it-" he stammered.
"I don't know where we are now."
The driver informed everyone that he had to leave the bus. A new man would be taking over and they had a half hour lay over if anyone wanted to stretch.
"Hey! This is my place," Willy said. "C'mon, let's get off and I'll take you for a drink or something."
"No," Joan said, shaking her head. "I don't think I would want a drink, but a cup of coffee would be great right now."
Willy said that she could get coffee and they left the bus together. The other passengers were already asleep and the driver had disappeared inside the building. A light was burning inside now and shadows passed the window.
They walked up the dark street and Joan turned around. She could see the lights of the town on the hillside below them. It was quiet and Willy held her hand with a firm grip and pulled her along. She could see a low building up ahead. A few cars were parked outside and when they got closer, she heard music.
The tavern was warm and cozy. A few men sat at the bar and glanced around when Joan came in. The bartender smiled and Willy waved at him as they sat in a booth near the door.
"Hi, Willy. How was your trip?" the bartender asked as he came to their table.
"Ah. The usual. They tried to marry me off-fix me up with every old witch around, but I fooled them and took off."
They all laughed then and Willy gazed questioningly at Joan.
"Sure you won't have a little nip? It will do you good on the way."
"No thank you, Willy. Just coffee please."
"Okay," he said, turning to the bartender. "A whiskey and a coffee."
The man shuffled off behind the bar and Joan looked around the place. It was small and cozy. A few booths lined one wall and the bar stood along opposite Joan and Willy. The lights were dim and music came from a juke box at the end of the bar. A selection box was located in each booth.
"Like to hear anything special?" Willy said.
"No. Just the coffee. I'm very thirsty."
The bartender brought their things and set them on the table. When they were alone again, Willy smiled.
"It would be nice if you could stay here for awhile."
"Maybe. But I have to get back to school."
"Just the same-I would like it very much if you stayed."
They drank slowly and Willy talked about his house again and his mushrooms. He explained that he never went any place.
"-except here. I come here every now and then for a drink but I don't talk to many people. They get too nosy-start asking silly questions about the house."
"You should find that flattering if people are interested in you."
"No. They aren't interested in me-it's the house. They all want me to give it up."
"Why?"
"If I sold it-they would turn it into a tourist attraction, lure the people here to see the ghost. Well, I won't move out."
"And right you are, Willy," Joan agreed.
She glanced at her watch, then at Willy's gleaming eyes and smiled.
"It's almost time I got back to the bus. Willy, I hate to go-really, but you know-"
"Yeah-I know. What does a beautiful young girl want with an old crow like me. I know."
"It's not that," she said, and put her hand over his. "There are plans to be followed through. I've made plans and-" As she spoke a picture of Terry flashed through her mind and it seemed silly to speak of their plans now that he was going away. And she remembered with a twinge of bitterness how he had ignored her when she left town.
"I'll walk you to the bus."
They walked slowly down the street and Joan marveled at the display of lights below.
"You should see it before everybody goes to bed. All the lights are on in the houses. It looks like a shining lake," Willy said.
At the bus stop, the passengers were standing outside, milling about and Joan heard their voices grumbling. The driver was lost under the hood of the bus and Willy walked over to him.
"What's wrong?"
"Don't know. She won't start. Must be water in the lines or something."
"How long before it's fixed?" Joan asked.
"Hour-maybe two," the driver answered absently.
Joan looked at Willy and he read the question in her eyes. He took her hand and led her away from the noisy group.
"Look-you can come to my place. It's not far from here and you can have something to eat. I'll leave my number and tell the driver to call me when he's ready to leave. You can be back here in ten minutes."
Joan frowned. She didn't like the idea too well, but it was better than standing around here in the cold, damp air for a couple of hours. She nodded and Willy walked over to the driver and mumbled something to him.
Joan followed Willy back up the street. They walked until the pavement ended and a dirt path continued through the thin wood. The trees became thicker after they had gone along for ten minutes and Joan stopped to catch her breath. She looked around worriedly. There wasn't a house in sight.
"Where is your place?"
"Don't worry. We'll be there in a minute. It's on the other side of these trees."
Willy took her hand again and led her along the path where the bushes lined the edge. It was so dark that Joan could barely make out Willy's form in front of her and she stepped closer to him.
The house loomed tall and dark in a small clearing at the end of the path. It looked huge and forbidding in the darkness. The roof was tall and broke the sky into sharp patterns. Joan could see another, wider path leading off in the opposite direction and she wondered where the road led to. They walked up onto the wooden porch and the boards creaked under their weight. Willy fumbled in his pockets for the keys and opened the door. His hands were trembling but Joan didn't notice in he dark. He stepped inside and flicked the light switch. Joan followed slowly and blinked her eyes against the harsh light. They were in a large foyer. Another door led off to the right and Willy opened it and disappeared for a moment. Joan stepped in and found herself in a sitting room. To the right, an alcove housed a small round table and two chairs. The table was covered with crumbs and a dirty cup. Willy saw what she was looking at and smiled nervously.
"I'm not much of a housekeeper," he confessed. "But don't worry. I have so many dishes, I can afford to let them pile up. I do them all at once whenever there's too many laying around."
Joan glanced around the sparsely furnished room. It didn't appear as if anyone lived here-except for the table in the alcove.
"C'mon. Let's go into the living room and I'll start a fire."
The living room was large but well furnished with old chairs, a sofa and a love seat. A huge fireplace lined one wall and Willy went directly to it and began scraping with a shovel.
"Sit down anywhere and I'll go get some wood," he said, and walked out of the room.
The dampness crept up through Joan and she shivered involuntarily. It was quiet in the house and Joan remembered the tales of ghosts that Willy had told her on the bus. She glanced at an old portrait over the fireplace. It was a woman. Her eyes glared from the dark colors. Her face looked angry, as if she had snarled at the artist. Her hands were folded sternly in front of her and a white lace bonnet curved around her head. Her mouth was a cruel slash across her face and lines shot out from the corners.
"That's old Sadie French," Willy said as he entered the room.
Joan's heart jumped in her chest. He had startled her and she turned quickly as he appeared with an armload of small logs.
"I keep that as a conversation piece. Whenever someone comes up here-which isn't very often-I spin a yarn about Frenchie and how he killed old Sadie and buried her under the floorboards."
He smiled when Joan looked nervously down at her feet.
"Not here. Don't be afraid. He did it in the kitchen. Moved the big old stove, put her under and replaced it, figuring that no one would ever look under that iron monster. But when the cook smelled something awful and became suspicious, she ran out of the house and called the law. They moved the stove and found the old girl under there. Her eyes were open and everyone swore that she was staring at Frenchie. He went nuts then and they took him away. He died raving about Sadie. Poor guy."
Joan looked at him sharply. "Poor guy? He killed his wife!"
"She got no more than she deserved. She tried to have him committed so she could take all his money and run away with her boyfriend."
"Mr. French was rich?"
"Oh-he never spent much. A real tightwad he was, but he knew that you had to be careful. Can't trust anyone when it comes to money," he said and piled the wood in the fireplace. "It didn't do her no good though. The law declared him sane but she didn't stop there-not Sadie. She kept seeing her lover until one night when old Frenchie came back from the mill and surprised them upstairs," he said and pointed to the ceiling.
"What happened then?"
Willy bent over the pile of logs and struck a wooden match. The flame glowed in his eyes for an instant and then the paper caught fire and the heat spread quickly.
"Frenchie heard them upstairs. He knew what was going on and he walked up quietly so he could take them by surprise. When he went in the bedroom, there was his best friend, between his wife's legs. Frenchie cracked him across the back with his cane, beat him all the way to the window. He was a powerful man and his friend couldn't take that cane cracking down on him, so he opened the window and jumped out. Broke his leg."
"Well, what happened then?"
"Well, near as we can find out, his friend made his way back home with a broken leg and not a stitch on. He said later that he didn't recall having heard any screaming or arguing coming from the house. He called the doctor when he got home and tried to forget about it. Sadie was a resourceful woman and he figured she would get out of it somehow."
The fire was crackling now and Joan sat wide-eyed and listened to Willy's story. He went to a cabinet and extracted a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She watched silently as he poured and offered her a glass.
"About a month later, Frenchie's pal was able to get around with a cane, so one day when he was out for a walk, he happened to come near this place. He wandered around back, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sadie but the place was quiet. He tried again the next day but there was still no sign of Sadie, although he did see Frenchie pass by the windows every now and then. He went to the police, but they couldn't do anything. A man had a right to keep his wife locked up if he wanted to. But the man wouldn't give up," he said, and took a long drink of whiskey. He motioned to Joan and she sipped from her glass. "He went around town asking questions about Sadie-had she been in the stores lately and so on, but nobody had seen her since that night. So he went to the law again and this time, they listened to him and went up to Frenchie's place. He denied everything-said his wife was sick upstairs but he wouldn't let them in to see for themselves. A few days later, the cook ran into town, screaming about something terrible going on in the house."
"I guess they found her then," Joan added.
"Right. She was under the stove."
"But how did he kill her?"
"Split her belly open with an axe. Old Frenchie split her in two and let her bleed to death in the tub."
Joan squirmed in her seat and gulped the whiskey. Willy's story sent chills up her spine and she was afraid to turn around. She had a terrible feeling that something was behind her but it wouldn't harm her if she sat perfectly still.
"They took him away and he tried to hang himself in the cell that night, so they put him in a nut house. He went crazy then for real and finally died. Some folks say his spirit came back here to look for Sadie to ask forgiveness, but they keep passing each other in the dark and they are doomed to roam around here."
Willy sat next to Joan and she shuddered. The portrait stared at her and she looked away quickly. Willy smiled at her.
"It's just a story. Don't get upset about it. I can guarantee that nobody-ghost or otherwise, is here except me."
He rested his hand on her lap and emptied his glass. Joan felt the whiskey warm her belly as she drank and her mind relaxed. "Like another drink?"
"A small one," she said, handing him the empty glass.
Willy gave her a refill and clinked glasses with her. She smiled and sipped the whiskey.
"You must be hungry. Why don't you stretch out on the couch here and I'll fix us a snack." Willy didn't wait for an answer. He walked over to a radio and twisted tlid dial. Soft music filled the warm room and Joan settled back, loosening her coat. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. You stretch out there and make yourself comfortable."
"But I'm not hungry-really," Joan said.
"Now-a girl needs her strength too, so you just relax and let Willy take care of everything," he said and left the room.
Joan listened to the music and gazed around the warm room. She smiled at he portrait this time and raised her glass and drank. It seemed silly to be frightened of a story and Joan lay back relaxed as Willy puttered around in the kitchen. It was hot and stuffy, and she opened her coat and closed her eyes. She felt so tired...
Terry danced in her head, then Willy. They were in a strange room and she lay naked on the bed while the two men circled her. Each had a long stick in his hand and was swinging it over his head, spinning it until she couldn't see it any longer. Then there was a pain in her arms and legs and she tried to get up, but something held her back. An invisible weight held her arms and legs and the men looked down at her and laughed when she struggled desperately to sit up. Willy glared at her, his mouth hanging open and his eyes gleaming like fire. Then a dark figure appeared behind him-a man holding an axe in his hand. He pushed between the two howling men and looked down at the captive girl. She saw the anger in his eyes as he raised the axe, its blade gleaming in he dim light, and swung it downward.
Joan woke with a start. She tried to sit up, but her arms wouldn't move. The room was dark and cold and she was stricken with fear, not knowing if she was still dreaming or awake. She realized that she was naked and her arms and legs-were tied! She tried to free herself, but the ropes were tight and dug into her flesh each time she moved. Joan couldn't imagine where she was. She recalled sitting with Willy in the living room and waiting for him to finish...
That was it! She was still in the house and Willy was someplace-in another room and she was here naked and tied to a bed. She cried out but no one answered and the fear sliced through her again.
"Willy! Please, Willy-help me-what have you done to me, Willy-answer me!"
She listened again but the only sound was the crackle of wood in the fireplace. But it was cold and damp in the room and now she could smell the musty odor of the mattress. She realized that she must be on the second floor-in a bedroom. But where was Willy? Her mind raced into action; she had to get out of this-and the bus? No. It must all be still a dream. She was still dreaming and she would awaken at any moment. All she had to do was to concentrate on waking up. Maybe if she twisted the ropes, they would hurt her and she would wake up...
She pulled the cords holding her arms and legs but nothing happened. It did hurt, the rope cutting into her soft flesh, but she didn't feel herself waking up. Finally, she lay back on the damp mattress and admitted to herself that she was already awake. But she couldn't figure what had happened. She was on the sofa, closed her eyes for a moment-no, before that-Willy had fixed them a drink, she listened to his story-that was it. It must have been-Willy slipped something into her whiskey to put her to sleep!
Joan sobbed uncontrollably. She didn't know why the tears welled up in her heaving chest, but they poured out of her now and her heart ached. Where was he and what was he doing? she wondered. And why had he tied her up like this?
She heard footsteps outside the room. The sound was getting louder and suddenly the door burst open and Willy stood silhouetted in the frame. He didn't say a word and suddenly, the light burst in the room and Joan stared at his face. His eyes were burning in their sockets, his mouth was twisted into a monstrous grin, saliva trickled from the corners of his lips and his hair was disheveled, hanging down in front of his eyes. He was wearing an undershirt and trousers and Joan could see the patches of sweat under his arms. He looked dreamily at her and cackled. Joan tried to draw away as he approached the bed but her bonds held her firmly in place. She realized now that her legs and hands were tied to either side of the bed and she lay spread-eagled across the damp mattress.
"Don't be afraid," Willy said in a strange, high-pitched voice. "I won't hurt you-oh, you will feel a little pain at first, but not for long-or so I'm told."
"Willy!" she cried. "Let me go. What are you doing to me? Why have you tied me up like this-please let me go and I won't say anything-"
Willy laughed sardonically and rubbed his hands together.
"You won't say anything. Of course not-how can you tell anyone while you're my prisoner? It's very funny of you to say that."
She watched his eyes burning in his head as he glared at her gleaming white body, stretched across the bed. She was defenseless, at his mercy and he licked his lips at the sight of her heaving breasts, so round and white, with pink nipples and the flesh rippling on her belly, her hard young thighs, the patch of curly black hair and her throbbing cunt-the one that had yielded so eagerly to him earlier...
"You shouldn't have done it," he said quietly.
"But what did I do?"
"You shouldn't have said you wouldn't stay. Now I have to keep you here," he said in a low voice.
"Please, Willy. Let me go and I'll do anything you want-anything. I promise."
"You have no choice now," he cackled. "There's no need to ask you to do anything-give anything. I'll take what I want," he said. "But first you must pay your dues."
"What are you talking about?" she asked in a weak voice.
Willy turned away from her and opened a closet. Joan couldn't see what he was doing and he didn't make much noise. He turned and glared at her; in his hand, he held a whip. It was made of woven strands of black leather that ended in a tassel.
"No, Willy! You can't do that to me, please don't-I beg you, Willy, anything-I'll do anything-"
The leather whistled through the air and cracked across her hard belly. Joan cried out as it burned into her flesh and she twisted and writhed on the bed. Her flesh burned where the whip had lashed her. Willy's face was set, his eyes flaming red as he glared at her tender breasts, shivering mounds of flesh-the whip came down again, singing as it lashed her white flesh, streaked across her breasts and Joan arched her back and screamed. He beat her across her breasts and Joan arched her back and until her body was covered with red slashes and her voice was a mixture until her body was covered with red slashed and her voice was a mixture of sobs gurgling in her throat. She fainted as he lashed across the fluffy mound of curly hair. Her legs tensed and vibrated, then went slack as she fell back onto the bed.
Willy glared at the naked, blood-smeared body on the bed and his cock stood straight out as he unzipped his pants. He undressed quickly and crawled on top of her, slid his prick across the blood and rammed it into her cunt. Joan's body jerked slightly and her eyes opened wide. She felt the cock ramming into her and her voice caught in her throat. Willy grimaced as his prick tore into her dry cunt, rammed it into her until she winced with pain. She struggled as he hunched and hammered against her.
He was going wild. His big throbbing cock filled her until she thought she would tear open and Willy rode in and out, drawing his cock almost all the way out and then lunging forward again until his bones hammered against her. She squirmed beneath him and fought the ropes that held her down. Willy scratched her breasts and his nails burned trails across her tender flesh and she cried out in pain. Her cries drove Willy on to a new frenzy, his cock ramming into her like a hammer, pounding her insides. He grabbed handfuls of her thick hair and pulled until she screamed, then he let her head flop back onto the bed and slapped her pink nipples until they burned and stood erect. She could and then, as he stiffened, she felt his sperm pour into her, filling her and then overflowing until he gasped and hung his head.
It was wild!
He climbed off the bed after a few minutes and untied one of her legs, keeping a firm grip on the rope. Her kicking couldn't loosen the grip. He switched the rope, crossing one leg over the other, tied to the loose leg, then crossed the other, tied it to the first post. She was twisted in an awkward position; the lower part of her body was half turned, exposing her gleaming buttocks, while her breasts stood straight and erect. She was terrified as Willy circled her, gazing purposefully at her. His cock was still rigid, curving slightly, rearing its gleaming red head at her.
He produced a bottle of whiskey and took a long pull.
"That was a sample."
"Willy-please, I beg of you to let me go. I haven't done anything. I swear, I only wanted to go back to school. I didn't mean to insult you or anything-please let me go."
"It's no use," he said solemnly, "you've got to pay like all the others.
"The others? What do you mean?"
Willy ignored her question and took another drink of whiskey. He found his whip on the floor and pulled its length through his hand and smiled at her. She could see the shiny leather, menacing and thick. Suddenly, Willy drew his arm back and lashed the whip across her plump buttocks, leaving a red streak on her white flesh. The whip stung and bit into her and she cried out again and tried to pull her hands free. She strained against the ropes and strained away from the lash but it caught her flesh, burned into her and she sobbed and screamed for mercy. But her cries fell on deaf ears and Willy glared at her blood-stained skin and his cock swelled until it ached. He dropped the whip and climbed onto the bed once more. Joan tried to look behind her to see what he was doing and it wasn't until she felt the puffed, hard head of his steely cock bite into her tiny ass that she finally knew.
The pain shot through her tormented ass as he forced his cock into her.
She winced hard as his prick split her muscle apart, wedged inside of her and soon slid an inch at a time until she choked with pain. It was almost unbearable.
Willy grunted over her, forced his prick into her bloody ass and she tensed it against his thrusts. Willy's prick slid in further and now she gasped, feeling the swollen flesh ramming up into her, sliding in an inch at a time until Willy had buried it up to his tuft of hair. Now he slid in and out of her and the fire burned in her stretched muscle. He tore the delicate flesh, grinding and twisting inside of her and her whole body convulsed with pain shooting through her ass, into her belly and thighs. Willy raged inside of her now, grabbed her breasts and twisted the coral nipples until Joan opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could. Willy grunted and moaned and when she cried out, he quickened his strokes, hammering up into her ass until he tensed, his body growing hard and then exploding in a rush of sperm that burned her insides.
Willy left the room after awhile. He closed the door as she pleaded with him to let her go. Her hands and feet were numb and her body throbbed with pain. The red stripes of the whip crisscrossed her whole body and burned every fiber of her skin. She called out to him long after his footsteps faded and then finally, fell back onto the bed and cried. Her arms and legs ached and her ass still twitched from the pain of his huge cock splitting her in two. She prayed that he wouldn't leave her tied in this awkward position.
Her eyelids were heavy and the light hurt. She closed them and a dizziness passed over her, shook in her stomach and she clenched her teeth. It was hard to hold back the sickness she felt sloshing in her stomach but she knew that she had to hold it in. Willy might be gone for hours-he might even have gone to sleep.
The thought of staying in that position until Willy returned horrified her and she screamed louder until her ears hurt and her mouth and throat were as dry as paper. But Willy didn't respond to her cries. He was in the kitchen. He ate bread and drank from the bottle of whiskey and rubbed his cock with vaseline. It had made him very sore, fucking Joan in the ass, and he vowed that next time, she would be sorry for it. He was feeling tired but the excitement of having the beautiful young girl tied to his bed upstairs kept his mind working hotly and he decided he would eat and then go up to have a little fun with her. He didn't know what he would do but he was sure that he wouldn't let her go to waste.
Joan lay in the bed upstairs and sobbed quietly. Her body ached all over and she saw the flecks of blood that had dripped from her legs onto the mattress. She couldn't bring herself to believe that this was all really happening. Willy had seemed like such a nice man and she had enjoyed his company on the bus. It had even entered her mind to stay with him a day or so but this-she had to get loose, call for help-but how? As far as she could tell, his house was far enough away from everything-the road and other buildings-so that her screams would go unheard and Willy could come and go as he pleased. Then the terrible thought came into her mind: Oh, would he keep her here before something worse happened.
It was really too much to think about-she wiped the thought from her mind. Willy was crazy-that was all there was to it-but what could she do about it? Maybe she could still reason with him, she thought. But how do you reason with a madman? She stiffened when she heard him moving around downstairs. She wondered what he could be doing.
The door opened and Willy stood dressed in a bathrobe. He was carrying a tray and he closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed.
"I have something for you to drink. It will make you feel better."
She looked up at him. He smiled at her gently and she thought for a moment that he would listen to reason.
"Willy-you had an urge-okay, you whipped me and it's all over. Now please-untie me and let me go!"
Willy put the tray down on the bed and caressed her cheek. She saw the strange glint in his eye and his lips trembled.
"I'm going to untie one hand so you can eat. You had better eat."
"Please-I don't want anything-just let me go," she pleaded and tugged at the ropes.
"You had better eat. You'll need your strength. Here-look at the food-"
Willy untied her right hand and moved away from the bed. He watched as Joan drank the glass of water that was on the tray. She sucked it dry and water ran down her chin, dripped onto the mattress. She gasped as she set the glass back down.
"My legs, Willy-they're numb. Can't you untie me? I won't run away-I promise."
Willy glared at her and smiled, showing all his teeth. "You think I'm stupid. You think Willy is going to untie you so that you can run?"
Joan saw that he was angry. He slapped the tray aside and grabbed at her hand but she succeeded in slapping him hard across the cheek before he wound the rope around her again. He rubbed his face and she watched the crimson stain spread. His eyes narrowed and he walked over to the closet again, opened the door and returned. Joan's eyes widened as she looked at the cat-o-nine tails dangling from his hand. The strands were thinner than hose of the whip he had used earlier, and she wriggled again, straining against the ropes. But the harder she pulled, the deeper they cut into her wrists.
Willy marveled at her flesh as it stretched and rippled each time she pulled. Her buttocks were tense and gleaming and her legs twitched as he raised the cat over his head and slashed it across her thighs.
She screamed as it ripped her flesh and Willy beat her again. He wasn't hitting as hard as he could but the slashing whip was painful enough to sting and Joan writhed under his blows. His blood raced like molten lava in his veins as he watched her flesh redden and tiny drops of blood appear. He beat her buttocks, slashing unmercifully across the round globes of tender esh and Joan twisted, writhed and cried out each time he hit her. His arm soon tired and he stood over her panting and drooling. She closed her eyes to shut out the sight of his wild eyes.
Willy took his clothes off and threw them across the room. His cock was stiff again, the head gorged with blood as he looked down on his victim. He took it in his hand and rubbed it over her breasts and chest. She winced at the sight of its purple head slithering across her tortured body. Willy cackled as she tried to escape. He pushed his cock onto her face, pressed it hard against her tightly closed lips. Joan turned her head to the side. Willy growled and raised his whip again, slashing it across her belly. Her body jerked and this time when he put his cock on her lips, Joan opened her mouth. Willy slid his huge prick into her mouth, stretching Joan's lips until she thought they would tear. He rammed the head against the back of her mouth and twisted his ass, feeling it rub her chest. Joan lay still with his thick cock in her mouth and Willy growled again. She moved her tongue around the head of his cock. Willy grunted and slid his prick out, then back in again. His prick tingled as the tight sleeve of her lips ran over his nerve. He leaned over her, standing on all fours and began pumping his prick into her mouth. He looked under and watched it sliding in and out of her taut mouth. The feel of her hard-tipped tongue sliding over the head of his prick sent shivers through his body and he spread his legs and hammered his cock in and out of her mouth, pounding so hard that she groaned against his flesh, her eyes staring as she pulled frantically at her bonds. He felt the heat rise in his groin and pumped harder and faster and his prick shot in and out of her lips until he felt the tidal wave gush out of him and into her mouth. Joan was choking when he pulled out of her. He rolled onto the bed and clamped his legs around her, rubbing his prick over her breasts. Her cunt gaped unprotected between her legs and Willy reached for the whip again. He pushed the handle into her. Her body stiffened as the long, hard wood sliced into her and rammed her insides. It crushed her clitoris and Willy jerked it in and out of her as he felt her body twist beneath him. He grinned now as he watched the gleaming, wet wood pump in and out of her cunt. He pumped faster now and Joan was groaning and squirming. The wood hurt her and yet she felt a sudden thrill as it battered her clitoris. Willy's hand beat faster, slipping the black wood in and out until she stiffened and came over it. He pulled it away and laughed.
"You little devil. You enjoy this too. Don't try and deny it-I've got the evidence now," he said, holding the stick in the air. "You like it too."
Joan turned her head away. She didn't want to look at him any longer.
"You'll see how wonderful this is. I'll make you play your true role in life. It doesn't take any imagine talk to teach a woman her proper place," he said and flicked the whip over her face. "Just this."
Willy retied Joan's feet and now she lay spread-eagled again, face up, and watched Willy as he hummed softly. He acted like a man doing his job as he crossed the ropes tightly around her ankles. He smiled as he listened to his own voice and Joan felt the fright well up in her breast again. She fought back the tears, bit her lips and swallowed hard. Willy was insane-of that she was sure but she didn't know how to reason with him, make him understand that if he let her go, she would forget everything.
She decided to talk to him as much as she could, keep his mind occupied, until he gave her some clue to his vulnerability.
"Willy, why are you doing this to me?"
"I told you, child, you need to learn your place. Too many women running around thinking they got something coming."
"But-the bus-what we did on the bus, doesn't that mean anything? Doesn't that show you that I'm ready to submit to you and there's no need to tie me and whip me?"
Willy's face wrinkled into a smile. He narrowed his eyes and clucked his tongue as he stepped nearer to her. She could smell the strong odor of his body.
"Child-you can't get away with that. Willy isn't stupid. I know that you want to escape punishment. Rightly so. You should be afraid of what's in store for you."
Joan gaped wide-eyed as he spoke. She thought that the worst was over and if she tried hard, she could persuade him to let her go. But his words dampened her hopes. She began to cry again and Willy shook his head and frowned.
"That old trick won't get you anywhere. I'm used to seeing women cry and it don't move me at all."
"You don't understand," she said through her tears, "I'm in pain. How would you feel if you were in my place?"
He stood silently for a moment, then walked away. She heard the door slam and the tears flowed hotly now. Her body ached and she shivered as the dampness saturated her flushed skin. Red marks had spread across every part of her body; her breasts and belly were bruised and her buttocks burned where they touched the mattress. She tried to forget the pain and concentrate on escaping, but the situation seemed impossible.
Willy rummaged around on the floor below and she could hear his footsteps, doors opening and closing, and then a scraping on the stairs. The door opened again and Willy entered with bottles and jars in his arms.
"Found some stuff in the bathroom. Might help the burning sensation," he said, and sat beside her on the bed.
He opened a jar of vaseline and began rubbing it over her neck, then smoothed it over her chest, working gently as he dipped his finger into the shiny yellow salve and spread it over her flesh. His fingers rubbed her breasts vigorously, smearing the stuff over her pink nipples and she strained against the ropes. She didn't want him to touch her anymore, despite his attempt to help. The oily salve felt warm and soothed her flesh and Willy covered her flat belly. His fingers worked over her thighs and she stiffened as he moved closer to her tuft of hair.
"Look how it shines," he commented as he rubbed the salve into her hair.
She twisted her legs away from him. Willy became angry then and slapped her hard on the stomach. A sickening pain ground into her and she coughed and sobbed.
"See how ungrateful you are. I'm trying to make you feel comfortable and you don't appreciate it," he said and sighed deeply. "Oh, well-"
He got up from the bed and went to the closet. Joan saw him reaching up to the door frame and twist what looked like a metal ring that she hadn't noticed before. She watched as he threaded a thick rope through the ring and came toward her with a loose end. He untied one hand at a time and then retied it with the thick rope. He repeated his move with the other hand and untied her feet.
Joan's first impulse was to untie her herself and run but as she raised herself to her elbows, waves of dizziness blurred her view of the room. Everything was spinning around in circles and the next thing she knew, she was being pulled from the bed. Her body hit the hard wooden floor with a thud and pain sliced through her shoulders and hips. She opened her eyes and watched as Willy grabbed the looped end of the rope dangling in the closet and pulled it across the room. She was being dragged across the rough floor and soon he was hauling her like a fish, pulling her arms up until she was forced to stand. He pulled harder now and stretched her body until her wrists were held tightly against the iron rings. Her body ached as he stretched her arms overhead. Her toes barely reached the floor and she pleaded with Willy to let her down as he looped the rope over a bedpost.
Willy happily surveyed his prisoner, strung up in the closet doorway. Her breasts were taut and the pink nipples stood out firmly. He grinned and rubbed his palms together. Joan was terrified. She thought he was going to whip her again and she knew that she couldn't stand it. Her body gleamed in the light and pain reached every limb, every fiber, and she cried softly.
Willy stooped to pick up the cat-o-nine tails. He rubbed the handle and slid the thongs through his fingers, then looked menacingly at Joan's defenseless body. She gasped for air as he stepped to within a few feet of her and swung the cat lightly. The leather stung slightly as it brushed her gleaming flesh and she twisted but her movements made her arms hurt more and she tried to steady herself, using her toes to stop the swing of her body. Willy laughed again and then threw the whip on the bed and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
She heard his footsteps diminishing on the stairs and then the noises beneath her again. She twisted frantically and tried to reach the metal rings, but her wrists were tight against the iron and she couldn't turn her hands. Her body wavered again and the pain shot through her shoulders and breasts. She cried out, knowing that she wouldn't be heard by anyone but her tormenter, but she didn't care any longer.
The room was soon quiet except for the sobbing as Joan hung her head in despair.