Paul Gable - Whipped wife

"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.

"Help me! Help me!" Jennie moaned.

"What in God's name's happened to you?" Diane asked, running up to her and unfastening the leather straps that held her arms down tightly to her sides.

"You were right. Oh God, you were right," the girl groaned as she rubbed her sore wrists together.

"He got tired of me and did this," the girl said, motioning to her slashed legs and arms. Large, ugly red gashes and welts covered her body. Her face was bruised and swollen. And what was particularly sickening to Diane was the blood that oozed out from between her cunt lips.

"You've got to get to a hospital," Diane grunted as she put an arm around Jennie's waist and helped her off the table.

"No! Some of them are in it too," the girl protested weakly.

"What do you mean?" Diane asked, pulling the girl out of the room and into the larger chamber. She placed her gently on a high-backed metal chair.

"They're all in on it. You'd be surprised how many men and women on this campus dig this kind of thing," Jennie said in a low moan as she looked up helplessly at Diane.

"You mean there's more than just my husband involved?" Diane asked in disbelief.

Jennie stared at the blonde for a second, then burst out helplessly into loud laughter.