Chapter Two-2

2018 Words
At quitting time that night, I noticed that Elsa left a little earlier than usual. I followed her out, feeling myself suddenly and very intensely curious about her life. I knew she lived in an apartment on the West side of town, so it did surprise me that she started walking in the same direction I was going. She stared down at a wrinkled note she held in her hand and studied it carefully. I wondered if I should help her out but then decided to keep my distance. She could be on an errand for Hardaway or Cain or even for herself, but I had a gut feeling that there was something more to this, something that had to do with incident in the office. I tailed her for two blocks until she turned into the Metro station, the same station I use myself. No crime in that. Then I watched as she purchased her token and moved onto the station platform, waiting for her train. I stayed a good twenty feet away, so she wouldn’t notice me. I could have legitimately revealed myself, but I was caught up in the suspense, envisioning myself stumbling on some outrageous secret. Of course, it would be just my luck that she was on the way to a new hairdresser, or Cain was having her pick up a cake at the bakery in my neighborhood. The innocent explanation was the most likely. Oddly, the stranger was not on the platform that evening. The next train was my own, although I waited to board wanting to see what Elsa would do. She climbed on too, which left me even more curious. I entered my usual car and from there, moved in her direction. Although suddenly feeling a little silly about my unproven suspicions, I stopped just before I got to the railcar where she was likely sitting. I took a seat and as the train pulled away from the station, I settled back to contemplate this excursion into the absurd. By the time I’d reached my stop, I realized that following Elsa was a totally ridiculous idea and would likely just embarrass me if she discovered what I was doing. I would end the scheme there and go home. Obviously, I needed more to occupy my free time! That reasoning made perfect sense, until I stepped from the railcar and found myself unwittingly following Elsa out of the station just as I had followed her in. She stopped briefly at the sidewalk, deciding how to proceed next and then continued on in the same direction that I would take toward my apartment house. Two blocks before my street, she turned right. In an instantaneous flash, the truth hit! I knew exactly where she was going—the stranger’s apartment! With the mystery nagging at me worse than ever, I resumed my secretive investigation, remaining a safe distance away, following Elsa from across the street as she moved toward the basement apartment. Sure enough, she stopped, stared down toward the door and then after taking a deep breath moved down the steps, grasping the metal handrail with what I interpreted as great reluctance. She stopped herself once before knocking on the door, consulting the paper still clutched in her fist. Confirming that she was in the right place, she started to knock again, hesitated briefly, and then finally rapped twice on the wooden door. Waiting for an answer, she grasped her purse with both hands and appeared to close her eyes as she bowed her head. Her entire body language suggested that something dreadful was about to happen. From my vantage point, I could see just half of the shadowy figure that opened the door and let her inside, but I knew the man’s movements well from weeks of careful study. It was my stranger. Knowing that this was his apartment, I would have been surprised if it had been someone else. I must have been crazy to continue the surveillance into matters that didn’t concern me, but I wasn’t thinking rationally. I knew something was going on with Elsa that was not pretty. Coercion. Blackmail. Maybe even prostitution. There was no telling what Hardaway and Cain might demand of the girls they’d sponsored into the United States. I expected the worst from them, just knowing that they used Elsa and Honey as abusively as I’d so far seen. If their public behavior was at all indicative of what went on in private, I had every reason to believe that Elsa’s meeting with the stranger had an ominous and s****l purpose. I was going to find out what that was. I moved across the street into the alley at the side of the old brick building. My heart leapt wildly with excitement as I discovered two low basement windows that looked directly into the stranger’s rooms. Though the blinds over the front windows were drawn, the ones over these small windows were partially open, so I had a clear view into the man’s living room. But how to do this without being seen either by the stranger or someone on the street was another matter. My only plan was to look casual, as if perhaps I was waiting for someone. I stood close to wall of the apartment house next door, from where I could stare down and see about half of what was going on inside. At first glance, the room appeared like a normal living room—at least what I could see of it: sofa, table, a couple of chairs, what you’d expect of a forty-something bachelor. I watched as Elsa and the stranger faced off; or rather, she stood with her head bowed, her body the same trembling mass of fright I’d seen over the last several weeks. Now she was even more nervous than she’s been earlier in the day. I found her submissive mannerisms oddly alluring. I couldn’t see the face of the stranger; he was too tall and beyond my line of vision. If I could only stoop down, I could view the whole scene, but even I was not that foolish. The residential neighborhood was virtually deserted at this hour, although a car would pass by now and then. Just in case anyone one might notice me, I tried to look as if I were cooling my heels, checking my watch, pretending to search the street for that mythical person who was supposed to pick me up. Then every few seconds, I glanced at the basement windows. The scene barely changed for several minutes, then when I looked back again, the pair had disappeared from view. I initially thought that Elsa might have moved toward the door, but as I gingerly peeked around the corner, I didn’t see her emerge from the basement. I then ventured further down the alley, to the next basement window, which was also partially covered by a curtain. I was able to see enough of the room to realize that Elsa and the stranger were there. Thankfully, I was now less in the open, able to hide discreetly behind a shallow wall that jut into the alley from the opposite building. It was intended to hide the trash dumpster and offered me the perfect spot to view the scene without being noticed from the street. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be seen by my two subjects, although I was reasonably sure that they were so intent on each other that they were unlikely to glance at the window. From what I could see, the room was a bedroom, a sparsely furnished bedroom. This couldn’t be something as innocent as a young girl renting a room? I briefly wondered to myself. But I quickly erased that idea from my mind as I watched in awe at a sight I never anticipated—even with all my fantastic musings creating the worst sort of picture in my mind. I expected Elsa to undress for s*x, or at the very least, she’d drop to her knees, unzip the man’s pants and give him a blowjob. The very essence of the scene screamed with erotic tension demanding this sort of end result. But the scene did not unfold as I envisioned. Yes, Elsa raised the hem of her skirt, bunching it around her waist. Yes, she turned around as if to offer herself as a target for the stranger’s c**k. But no, he didn’t f**k her. Instead, she bent over the end of the bed, hands on the mattress, head bowed, ass exposed and waited. The creamy hue of her round ass cheeks gleamed in the yellowish light of the room. They seemed to beam through the window into the alley. I gazed around, noting that the day had grown old, the sun slipping into the horizon. The sky above was still a brilliant blue as it darkened, but the alley had become the smoky color of dusk, which only made the lustrous site of Elsa’s ass cheeks more prominent and enthralling from where I stood. My heart skipped, elated. I figured that there would be little way the two in the bedroom could see me now; even if they looked toward the window, they would see their own reflections, not me. Stooping to get a better view, I was able to see the stranger’s face clear as day. The man stood behind Elsa’s rear end, laying his hand on the smooth cheeks; his expressionless face offered no hint of the emotions. In his other hand he held what looked very much like a Ping-Pong paddle, although this weapon was very black with a muted sheen as the light hit its surface—leather, I guessed. I could see the muscles in my stranger’s hand flex and release as he prepared to strike Elsa’s bottom. He was going to spank her! I couldn’t imagine… At the instant of first impact, the purpose for this meeting became vividly clear. A vicious swath of fire burned in my belly as dearly as the angry swat that burned Elsa’s bottom. Each subsequent strike added additional heat to her ass and my noxious arousal. Again and again, the man leveled the paddle on her rear cheeks until the creamy color turned into an angry red rash. I could even hear the sound of the strikes, which were only slightly muffled by the walls that separated me from them. The spanking continued for at least five minutes, the stranger pausing on occasion to catch his breath. Initially, Elsa seemed quite accepting of the punishment, but the longer it went on, the more I saw her body seize up from pain. Eventually, she even stomped her feet, with her entire body wracked by the anguish the pain produced. I breathed a relieved sigh when the man finally stopped and moved away. I assumed, the punishment was over and my insides rejoiced, even as I realized how perversely aroused my body had become. I was about to move out of the alley and toward home, feeling a bit nervous about what I’d just witnessed. I didn’t want to press my luck and risk being caught. However, just as I was about to leave, the stranger entered the picture again. This time, he carried a thin rattan cane in his hand, holding it with a grip as profound as he used with the paddle, his manner stern and professional. The set of his jaw, the authoritative stance all signaled a serious objective not some casual arrangement. My body brightened with another burst of excitement as I saw Elsa glance back briefly with a look of profound horror as she realized what was about to happen. I watched from my awkward position, awestruck, as the stranger reared back and then brought the rattan forward with great vigor, etching a welt across Elsa’s red glowing ass cheeks. The poor girl cried out in anguish as more fierce blows cut her buttocks. The man ripped off a fast flurry of cuts, delivered at such a furious pace that Elsa danced on tippy-toes from the first to the last. This time I could hear the strained sound of her woeful protests, although Elsa made no move to run from the beating. By the time the man stopped, the centers of her bottom cheeks were black and blue with welts and bruises surfacing under the skin.
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