Chapter 8

After explaining the plan, Gertrude hands Amy Sue one of the tit torture style serving trays that most of the girls wear while serving food and drinks out in the club. She then tells Amy Sue that she's to hit Gertrude on the back of her head and make it appear that we actually overpowered her while escaping. That will minimize any whipping that Gertrude will receive after she explains how we got away.

Gertrude then tells us that our car is parked outside with the keys in it. She also explains that we shouldn't waste our time looking for clothes, for all of our clothes have been given to Dorothy as part of our earlier 'punishment' settlement. We just need to jump into the car, take off, and don't stop for anything until we cross the state line. Gertrude estimates that's about a three hour drive. Also, we should stay off the main roads, for once word of our escape gets out all the cops will be watching for our car on the main roads.

"Don't stop for anything until you're in the next state," Gertrude explains. "If you're caught in this state, you will be brought back here and will spend the rest of your life as a totally naked sex slave – just like me – that is, if you survive your whipping. Many girls don't. Now, hit me hard enough to knock me out and get the fuck out of here."

"You're a fuckin' sex slave?" Amy Sue asks.

Neither of us move. We just stare at Gertrude.

"Do it now, and get the fuck out of here!" Gertrude yells.

"Smack the bitch," I tell Amy Sue as I make my way to the back door. "I don't know if she's lying or telling the truth. But I want to get the fuck out of here now. Now, smack her while I fire the mother fuckin' car up."

TWACK!

PLOP!

"OK, bitch," Amy Sue yells to me as she comes running out the door and jumps in the car. "I hope I didn't kill her. I don't trust Horatio, so but let's make the most of this opportunity and get the fuck outta here."

As I head down one of the town's side streets, instead of turning West and heading for the next state, I turn East and head back where we came from earlier.

"W-T-F?" (What the fuck?) Amy Sue asks.

"I don't trust him either," I reply. "So, let's get us some insurance. And our clothes."

Neither of us says much to each other for about five minutes. Then, Amy Sue sees where I am heading. I park the car behind an old barn located directly behind Dorothy's house. It's dark outside, so she doesn't see us approach. But, we can see her standing in her kitchen doing her dinner dishes.

Not only that, but she's wearing one of the dresses we stole from her earlier – one of the two dresses that caused our whipping and sexual slavery. We also spot our suitcase sitting along one of the kitchen walls. I motion for Amy Sue to follow me, but to keep very low and quiet.

Our timing is perfect, for just as we approach her back porch door her kitchen goes dark as she exits. Not only that, but we also find the back door unlocked. We quietly sneak through the kitchen and spot her sitting in an armchair watching some old movie on her telly. We are able to sneak up on her undetected, and with very little effort we wrestle her to the floor, strip her naked like us, and tie her wrists behind her back. We also gag her with one of her old stockings.

As I keep her quiet on the floor of her living room, Amy Sue quickly locks the front door and then roams through her house, closing all the windows and turning off all the lights. We want it to look like she's gone on a trip. Then, we lead her out through the kitchen, grabbing our suitcase on the way, and force her out the back door, across her back yard, and eventually secure her into the right front seat of our Camaro. We each also quickly put on one of our micro G-string bikinis before jumping into the car ourselves.

As we drive away with our former accuser and adversary, we tell her that we need a guide to the state line and we don't want to be seen by any cops. We promise her that if we make it to the state line without any problems we will release her unharmed. We also tell her that we will die fighting before we will allow ourselves to be captured and whipped again. Therefore, if she wants to stay alive, she better get us to the state line undetected, safe and sound.

Of course, if Dorothy is using her brains, she will realize that we are totally unarmed. But, she is so scared that she is not using the grey matter located between her ears. She is easy picking for our bluff. Later we would discover that she's not only a perfect Stockholm Syndrome hostage candidate, but she's a natural muff diver from way back.

As Amy Sue begins to drive away, I tell Dorothy that I am going to release the stocking currently gagging her mouth. But, I also warn her that once I do so, any screams or shouts will be her last. Then, I release the gag and lower the stocking until it's wrapped around the front of her throat while I've got a tight grip on both ends from my position directly behind her in the back seat. If I pull very hard, I can every easily strangle her. But, I do allow her to talk so that she can give us directions out of town on the back roads.

"Can I make a suggestion?" Dorothy asks. "The state line to the West is over three hours away. The cops are going to be all over all the roads heading that direction. But, the state line to the South is only six hours away. Not only that, but I have a friend living near there. She's away on vacation, so her house is vacant right now. We can be to her house before dawn, and we can hide out there during the daylight hours tomorrow before continuing our trip tomorrow night. I promise I won't pull any tricks if you trust me and let me guide you there."

"OK," Amy Sue replies. "I don't know why I trust you, but I do. But, just remember. If we don't make it alive, neither do you. So, no tricks."

"Amy Sue," I add. "I don't think that's what she's got in mind. I've noticed that ever since we left her place, she's been starring at your tits and cunt. I think we've got a real, live carpet muncher as our hostage. What about it Dorothy? Do you want to eat Amy Sue's snatch?"

"Hers," Dorothy mumbles before telling Amy sue to make a turn onto a desolate road through the countryside. "And, yours, too," she replies to me.

Soon the road turns from blacktop to dirt, so we stop long enough to put the top up on the convertible. We also roll up the windows to keep out the dirt and debris that the car stirs up while traveling down a seldom used back road. I don't know where we are going, but somehow Amy Sue and I both trust that Dorothy is not leading us down a dead-end road.

We travel through the night, and just before dawn we come up to what appears to be a deserted farmhouse with a barn in the back. Dorothy tells us that this is her friend's house, and we should park the car in the barn so that it will be out of sight of anyone driving by.

I quickly tie the back of the stocking still wrapped around the front of Dorothy's throat to the back of the passenger's seat headrest – effectively tying our hostage to the right front seat of the car. This allows both Amy Sue and me to exit and check out the situation before releasing our hostage. After closing both sets of barn doors so the car is no longer visible from the outside, we peer out one of the windows at the house. It's definitely dark, and appears to be vacant. But, we can't be sure without checking it out for ourselves. Again, we have no choice other than to trust that Dorothy is not misleading us.

"It's vacant," Dorothy says as if she's reading my mind. "Trust me. My friend won't be home for a while. If you let me out, I can get us into the house. That will be a better place to spend the day than this shitty barn."

I look at Amy Sue, who nods her head affirmatively. God, this bitch is a trusting sole. But, my submissive character takes over and, once again, I follow her lead. I release Dorothy from the car, but I also keep a tight grip on the stocking currently wrapped around her neck. She knows that if she tries anything, I can easily strangle her. But, I also think she knows that I really don't have the guts for such a thing. It's all for show.

As she leads us over to the main house, I notice that all of the windows, both on the main level and the two upstairs ones, are covered with some sort of blackout plastic or paper. I think this is unusual, but for some reason I don't ask about it. Once we are standing on the back porch, Dorothy recovers a key hidden in a nearby plant, unlocks the door, and leads us into the kitchen area.

It looks like any other kitchen, except that there is no kitchenette or breakfast table or chairs. However, what I also don't see – because they are hidden by the still open back porch door – are sets of cuffs, leg chains, slave collars, and leashes all hanging from hooks on the wall behind us. Without saying or explaining anything, Dorothy leads us through the kitchen so quickly that neither Amy Sue nor I ever see the cuffs, collars, and shackles hanging near the door.

However, when we enter the main room – a former living room when this house was a residence – we see a completely abnormal interior decoration pattern. It doesn't look anything like a family oriented living area. In one corner of the room is a small, triangular shaped bar. As in cocktail lounge bar. In another corner is a 10' x 10' x 2' square wooden platform or stage. What's even more unusual is that the platform has leg cuffs attached near its center and wrists cuffs hanging down from the ceiling. Obviously, this platform is for displaying one or more people in bondage.

Most of the remaining furniture is either love-seat style sofas or single chairs. Along the far wall is the main entry door. This time we don't miss the cuffs, leg irons, slave collars, and leashes hanging down from hooks located beside the door. We also notice that the walls are covered with pictures – pictures of both naked men and women in various bondage and punishment situations.

As I look around the room I am totally confused. Dorothy told us earlier that we were going to stay at her friend's house. What type of friend decorates his/her house like a bondage club? Evidently Amy Sue is just as perplexed as me, and she's the first to voice her concerns.