Whipped wife

CHAPTER FOUR

A week went by before Diane even bothered calling anyone. The morning after her savage beating, the blonde had found herself in bed. Dried smears of blood streaked her arms, belly and legs. Large, red, ugly welts peppered her body. Her shoulders ached painfully from the hanging, and her eyes were swollen from the constant sobbing that marked her reaction to the events of that night.

At first Diane was afraid even to move one finger above the top sheet. She lay in bed for several minutes, straining her ears to hear the faintest indication that Matt or Jennie might be home. When the blonde was sure she was alone, she sprang out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. She turned on the water in the sink and started to splash cold water on her face when the blonde looked in the mirror and saw the damage done to her body.

"ohhhh, my God, nooo!" Diane groaned, sinking to her knees and rocking back and forth in horror as she saw what she looked like now. "Why? WHY?" Diane asked over and over as she searched for an answer to the nightmare she'd lived through the night before. The sneers; the laughing; the sound of that whip whistling through the air before it thwacked across her tender flesh; all those images came back to haunt the groaning blonde as she wallowed in an orgy of self-pity.

All through the day and into the night, Diane waited with abject terror for Matt to come home. But her husband didn't return that night, or the night after, or the night after that! In a way, Diane was relieved. As her body began to heal, the blonde slowly realized that Matt might try the same thing again with her. And the next time, she might not be so lucky. Jennie was there as a kind of control. What if he should go completely bananas, or freak out when there was no one there to watch out for him? There was a frightening gleam in Matt's eyes that night. Diane wasn't sure what had set it off but she started to realize that she was the object of that fury.

At the end of the week, Diane made a decision to leave the house and never come back. Waiting for Matt to come home so that they could have a conversation was silly. Slowly, Diane realized that. Matt didn't want to talk with her any more. He didn't want to do anything with her any more except beat her up.

So late that Friday afternoon, Diane was scurrying around the house, packing two suitcases and wondering where she could hide until she filed for divorce. As she closed the top of the second suitcase and locked it, the phone rang.

No, I won't! Diane said to herself, hauling the two suitcases off her bed and walking briskly into the living room. It might be Matt, wanting to apologize. But after thinking everything out, Diane decided that it was better that she leave. That torture chamber in the basement! He'd really flipped out. She couldn't live with a man who got his jollies that way.

"Oh hell!" the blonde muttered, dropping the suitcases and running over to the phone in the living room. It might be Sharon or Jack or her mother. If it were Matt, she'd simply hang up.

"Hello?" Diane said, placing the black receiver against her ear. She heard nothing at first, and concentrated a little more on what she thought were background noises. Finally Diane realized that there were no background noises at all, but simply the sounds of heavy breathing.

"Degenerate," the blonde muttered, about to hang up when the party at the other end of the line finally said something.

"Your husband told us about you," he panted heavily.

"Who is this?" Diane asked in a quivering voice. Any reference to Matt made her nervous.

"Said you loved to be beaten up. When can you come over to my place? I wanna dig my fingers into those soft cunt lips of yours and…"

Diane didn't listen to any more. Slamming down the receiver, she wheeled around and grabbed her suitcases. Everything in the house horrified her now. She couldn't wait to get out.

"Diane! Diane, where are you going?" Sharon asked as she ran down the sidewalk.

"Out for a trip, Sharon," Diane said crisply as she opened the trunk of her car, pushed in her suitcases, then slammed it shut.

"Without Matt?" Sharon asked, walking up to the rear of the car.

"We're getting a divorce, Sharon. Don't bother asking me why. But I'm through with him," Diane muttered, walking quickly past her friend and opening the car door.

"But…"

"Please, Sharon. Get out of my way. I'll call you or something when I get settled," Diane said as she started up the car and threw it into reverse.

"Jack Moore called. He wondered why you hadn't called him about your sales or… or something," Sharon said slyly.

Jack! Of course! She could stay with him until she got her head together.

"Just tell him I had to get out of town for a while. I'll call him in a few days. Now please, Sharon," Diane said, tearing out the driveway past her startled friend. The blonde wished she could have told her everything. But right now, Diane didn't trust anyone. For all she knew, Sharon could be grand princess of the bondage circuit.

Diane drove aimlessly around Los Angeles for the next hour, feeling relieved that she'd finally made the move to leave Matt, and terrified that he'd find her before she had a chance to cover her tracks. At six o'clock, the blonde pulled into a Howard Johnson's restaurant parking lot. Running quickly inside, Diane ducked into a phone booth and fished through her purse for Jack's phone number.

"Thank God!" she murmured, pulling a business card from her wallet. It had Jack's business and home phone number printed on it. Dialing the first number nervously, Diane prayed that he'd be there to help her.

"Hello?"

It was Jack!

"Jack? This is Diane Hathaway," the blonde said as evenly as she could. "Listen, I'm in trouble."

"What's the matter?" Jack asked, a little startled.

"It's my husband, Jack," Diane started to say, then broke down sobbing.

"Hey, kid. What's the matter?" Jack asked, still puzzled by Diane's attitude. "He find out anything?"

"Oh Jack, you won't believe this. But I don't know whom else to turn to. Please listen to me. I swear to God, I'm telling the truth," Diane said softly, turning around and noticing that several patrons in the restaurant had noticed her crying.

She told Jack everything that had happened from the rude awakening she'd received from Matt, through the beating, and finally to her passing out while tied to the overhead beam.

"Jesus Christ!" Jack exclaimed when Diane had finished with her story.

"I've got to have some place to hide. I've left him, Jack. I can't trust him any more. But I don't know whom I can trust. Please, can I stay with you, Jack?" Diane asked in a small voice.

"You just try and stay somewhere else. You know where I live?" he asked as Diane sucked in a deep breath and sighed happily. She'd be safe, if nothing else, for a few days. That would give her time enough to think out where she should go permanently and what she should do. Maybe Jack knew the name of a good lawyer.

Diane jotted down Jack's address and the directions to it. Only after hanging up did she realize that she had to go past the university to get to it. What if she should meet Matt on the way? How could she explain to him where she was going? But that was absurd! It was rush-hour traffic. There were thousands of cars on the freeways and roads of Los Angeles. It was absurd that she should worry about seeing her husband on the road.

Diane ran back to her car and started it up, pulling out of the parking lot and heading toward Jack's apartment. She was so relieved, she almost felt like singing. As she passed hundreds of cars on the road, Diane felt as if she were starting a new life. A terrible, oppressive weight had been lifted off her shoulders. With Matt out of the way now, she could start living a happier, more relaxed life.

Just as she approached the intersection of the university drive, Diane felt her blood suddenly freeze up. She saw Matt's car pull out of the side drive and pull onto the main street. He was only two car lengths in front of her. If he glanced into his rear-view mirror, he'd see her, and then God-only-knows what would happen. She had to get off that street.

Looking around in a near state of panic, the blonde realized that the only place to turn was into the university. She felt as if she were going into a wolf's den. But where else could she go?

Diane turned quickly and sped into the university compound, driving fast up the narrow brick mad past the tall buildings almost completely obscured from the entrance street by tall pines and eucalyptus trees that lined the front lawn. Diane felt chills up her spine as she slowed down and headed toward the Fine Arts section of the campus. Overhead, dark, rolling thunderclouds were beginning to slide across the sky. A strong, steady breeze was blowing leaves, twigs, papers and dust across the hilly campus. Everything seemed threatening to the nervous blonde as she stopped in front of the Art building.

Jennie had mentioned that Matt had turned a lot of his students on to his particular sexual trip. She wondered just what he was doing on campus. Did he have a little chamber somewhere here? Was he whipping and tying up coeds in some basement on campus? Diane knew that she should drive to the other end of the university and get out and over to Jack's apartment. But her curiosity was killing her. She had to find out to what depths her husband had sunk.

Pulling into Matt's parking spot, Diane turned off the ignition and stepped out of her car. Most of the lights in the three-story red brick building were out. Only the hanging portico light over the steep entrance steps and hall lights on each floor gleamed brightly in the dimming daylight. Diane felt a few drops of rain sprinkle on her cheeks as the wind suddenly picked up to a strong series of gusts. The blonde pulled the collar of her light trench coat tightly around her throat as she ran up the steps and pulled the door open.

"Ughhh!" Diane murmured, shaking her head and brushing a few dead leaves out of her hair. The rain started to come down now as she walked slowly down the silent halls. The sounds of her heels clattering against the polished red-tiled hall floor rang up and down the corridor as Diane moved quickly toward Matt's office. Like the wives of all faculty members, she had a key to his room. Something told her that she'd find an answer to her question somewhere in his office.

Here you go, Diane said to herself as she opened her purse and pulled out a key chain. Looking nervously up and down the corridor, the blonde inserted the correct key and pushed open the door to her husband's office.

It was a small room – about fifteen feet by twenty feet and filled with stacks of paintings, papers and books tossed about everywhere. A pleasant, slightly stale and sweet smell of cherry pipe tobacco lingered in the still air as Diane walked slowly up to the big polished oak desk at the back of the room. The lights both from the hallway and the footpath directly outside the narrow window gave off enough illumination for Diane to see what she was doing. She shuffled through stacks of term papers on Matt's desk, unsure of what she was looking for, or what she'd do if she found it.

It wouldn't be out in the open, Diane said to herself, not sure of what "it" was.

As she pulled open the top drawer and started fishing through layers of notes and articles, Diane heard the front door open.

"My God!" the blonde hissed to herself as she ran to the office door and peered out into the hall. It was a university guard. Even as the wife of a faculty member, Diane knew she'd have a hard time explaining why she was rifling through her husband's office. He might even want to locate her husband and have him come down to pick her up! Diane closed the door and locked it, standing with her ass pressed tightly against the wall as the guard walked by and tried the doorknobs of each of the office doors.

It seemed like an eternity before Diane heard the door open and close again. She sighed with relief, then went back behind the desk and searched more frantically than before. With the kind of risks she was taking, she wanted to find something to make it worthwhile.

"Damn it!" Diane muttered after several minutes, finding nothing except grade books and compositions. As Diane was about to close the top drawer and go on searching through the files, her eyes lighted on something that looked like a map. Part of it stuck out from the back of Matt's master grade book. Pulling it out and moving over to the window to where she could see better, Diane saw that it was a diagram of the basement floor of the Physics building across the way. There were the usual dimension figures and room sketches. But there was something odd about this map. Matt had etched in what looked to be another room that was beneath the boiler room. It might have been nothing. But Diane wasn't so sure of that.

There's got to be a key, Diane thought to herself, digging through the pile of papers in the top drawer again. She accidentally brushed her fingers against a small plastic box that popped open. Inside was a key with a small piece of red tape attached to the top. Diane smiled wryly, sure that this was part of her husband's recent sick humor.

Closing the drawer quickly, Diane took the diagram and key and unlocked the door. Peering out into the hall to make sure no one was there, the blonde stealthily crept out of the office and pulled the door shut behind her. As she ran quickly down the hall to the doorway, Diane wondered if she should get out and show Jack what she'd found. But what did she find? An old blueprint that had been obviously doctored up a bit and a key! Some find! Who'd do anything about that? Of course, Jack might help her. But if she only had something more to tell him – something that would clearly show that her husband was carrying on his sick plans at the university!

Diane shoved the door open and stepped out into the rainstorm. Holding her trench coat tightly to her lithe body, the blonde ran across the dark grassy space between the Art building and Physics building. The wind whipped across her face as she climbed quickly up the front stairs of Haines Hall and ran into the building. It too was deserted. Looking around, Diane noticed a stairway that led down to the basement classrooms to her left. Slowly climbing down the shiny concrete steps, Diane thought she could hear talking from the second floor drifting down like smoke in the air.

There's someone up there! The blonde said to herself as she heard steps coming down toward the main floor. She hurried down to the basement, nearly falling on her face several times. Only a few lights were on in the basement corridor that helped illuminate the stairway.

Reaching the underground corridor, Diane ran quickly over to one of the bare overhead light bulbs and pulled out the blueprint. The boiler room was off to her left. Tucking the diagram back in her trench coat pocket, Diane tiptoed down the darkened hall, jumping each time the overhead steam pipes clacked and banged noisily. It seemed like hours before she reached the door to the main machinery room. The boilers were in there, pounding and humming loudly. Pulling out her crumpled diagram again, Diane opened the door to the big room and stepped inside. The heat was almost overpowering. But the blonde was determined to find out if there was anything to this map.

Moving slowly along the outside wall and carefully avoiding the operating machinery, Diane followed the blueprint. According to that diagram, there was a door somewhere just before the doorway to the air-conditioning machinery room. The blonde looked along the wall and saw an empty school book case standing where the door should be. Diane was no detective, but a child could have guessed what was behind it once he had seen that cabinet. Diane's heart skipped a beat as she put her shoulder to the case and pushed forward. If Matt were trying to hide that door from view, he must be hiding something terrible behind it.

Surprisingly, the case moved easily, scraping noisily across the smooth concrete floor. Thank God the machinery made enough racket to cover up an exploding bomb. Reaching in her pocket, Diane pulled out the key and unlocked the hidden door.

A flood of light suddenly hit her eyes and startled the blonde temporarily. Recovering, Diane stepped down into the lower room. The steps were wooden and steep, leading into an area obviously large and approximately twenty feet below the basement area. The walls were damp and covered with mold. From the diagram, it appeared that no one knew or cared about the existence of this room. The blueprint was fairly recent – about three years old. Whoever drew it up either forgot about including the room, or simply was ignorant about it.

Many old buildings contained "secret" rooms and passages like this one, simply because the new owners or managers were careless in examining the buildings.

"Ohhh!" Diane heard someone groan as she neared the bottom of the stairway.

"Who's there?" Diane whispered hoarsely, feeling her pulse pounding in her ears as she stopped just short of the bottom stair.

"Please. Please, help me," the voice pleaded desperately.

Diane rushed down the stairs and found herself in a large, yellow-walled room. The ceiling was low and vaulted, making her want to bend her head down automatically even though there was no chance of hitting it against the concrete. A sick dampness hung in the air, making Diane's breath hang in the air as she looked in amazement at all the instruments of torture that abounded in the room. It was a larger, more elaborate version of the workshop at home. There were metal rings bolted to the wall at various heights. Pulleys of all sizes hung from the ceiling. And then there were suspicious locked chests and tall bureaus lining the walls. Diane shuddered as she folded her arms tightly across her big tits and walked slowly down the length of the long room. Her eyes widened as she gazed at the several tables covered with leather that were in front of each locked chest and bureau. It looked like a weird kind of operating room. From her experience at home, the blonde could guess what had gone on in this room.

"Oh God, help me!" the voice cried out again from the other end of the chamber.

Diane looked around, trying to figure out where the groans came from.

"P-please, ohhhh…"

She saw a door half-opened at the end of the outside wall. Running quickly up to it, Diane threw it open and found herself staring into a small extension of the outside chamber. It was about ten by ten and had a table similar to the ones outside in the middle of it.

"God!" Diane cried out, holding her hands over her mouth as she stared at the bleeding figure of Jennie strapped down on that table.