Ed & Andrew

With Ed in a continual climax, differing only in it's intensity Sean began fucking her strongly, obviously seeking his own release. Plunging into her depths, then holding himself deep inside her he would rock hard against her entrance. It seemed to Andrew, looking agonizingly on, as if he was trying to force more of himself into her body.

It seemed to go on and on, Ed obviously totally out of control, the passion rocking her small frame, drool running out of her mouth. The huge man completely covered her small body, and every thrust finally seemed to rock the top of her head.

Finally he growled, and shoved his prong as deep into the beauty under him as it would go, and shuddered.

To the watching Andrew it seemed like long, long minutes before the rapist relaxed atop his wife. For long moments the man just lay on her, making no attempt to hold his weight off her. It looked like she wasn't breathing and her eyes were closed.

Finally Sean stretched his big frame and rolled off the small woman. In doing so, he glanced at Andrew and laughed outright at the hatred fury and frustration he saw on the small man's face. "Enjoy the show, shrimp? Well, think about it, I think I'll use the little lady to initiate each of the other rooms of the house just like this. You can sit here and listen to how she's enjoying it. Bet she likes it when I take her ass, don't you?"

Laughing out loud he slid off the bed and went to the closet. Grabbing a few more of Andrew's belts he turned and scooped Ed off the bed. The woman was exhausted, sore and humiliated from her treatment. Truth be told she was too sore to walk well. As he threw her over his shoulder and headed to the living room, she truly understood what a wonderful and considerate lover was her Andrew. She did recognize the sexual charge that was involved with being raped and forced to perform sex. She also knew it was something she would and could never seek out. She dreaded the ordeal that was ahead of her, whimpering softly as he carried her down the hall. She prayed she could keep this animal from destroying her and more importantly her Andrew.

'God,' she prayed to herself, 'please let me convince my love that what I am doing is only a performance to save our lives!'

While Sean was ripping several electric cords off kitchen appliances to use in further restraining Ed, Andrew was finding himself entering a world he had never experienced before. He had read of it, in adventure stories, but had never given a thought to it's real existence. He found his mind becoming cold, the fury and hatred he felt was still there but it was now a directed force. After Sean had left carrying his poor tortured wife the white-hot broil of his thoughts cooled, and he discovered he could concentrate and think more clearly than ever before.

Something Sean, Ed and even Andrew had never considered was what the daily, hours long exercises Andrew indulged in had done to his small frame. He had concentrated on lighter weights, thus had not built impressive looking muscles. His stamina however, after weeks and months of lifting moderate weights for hours at a time may have been unequaled. And his pure strength was very great.

The one area where he had followed the usual practice of steadily increasing the resistance against his exercise was in increasing his grip. When he found himself sitting at his computer or desk, pondering whatever it is a theoretical mathematician ponders he was squeezing a ball. He had started with a small rubber ball, a child's toy that was soft and reasonably safe for a child to toss inside. When he had needed to replace them every couple of days because they were bursting when he squeezed, he had gone looking for sturdier and stronger balls for his exercise. For a year now he had used a solid rubber ball. Squeezing it unconsciously while at his desk he had gone through three of them in the last year. He had begun wondering several months ago if he shouldn't get something that allowed his hand a more complete range of motion he had located a source of balls about the size of a softball, but squeezable. At odd times when he thought of it, he would use one of those balls instead of the solid rubber ones. He could almost close his hand on the ball, so only used one of the larger and softer balls a couple of times a week He had to concentrate when using one so he wouldn't burst them so quickly.

To put a different face on it, Andrew was able to use his now not inconsiderable strength for an incredible length of time. And his grip was great enough to break a strong man's hand. He was such a gentle and unassuming man, his abilities were totally unknown. Not only to someone as near to him as Ed, not even to himself. The man, who had made a fortune thinking, just never thought of it.

But now he did.

Sean had tied him to the chair, trusting in its strength to hold the little wimp. Now Andrew took advantage of that. Twisting, he was able to wrap a hand around each of the uprights to the chair back. These uprights were fitted, glued and wedged into the chair seat. Now with a virtually unbreakable grip he began rocking his upper body from side to side while lifting upwards with only his arms and shoulders.

Progress was slow, for the average strong man it would have been impossible. But after half an hour he had loosened the uprights enough that he knew the glue joint was broken, now all he had to do was pull the uprights up out of the chair seat. What made it difficult was the uprights had been driven through the seat, and then wedges tapped into the ends so that Andrew must compress and widen the holes to extract the uprights.

To a casual observer have he appeared to be just sitting. His struggle against the nature of the wood could only be seen in the tendons standing from his forehead. And he was thinking. Wondering how long he had before their captor returned to the bedroom, and trying to block out what he feared was happening to his beloved wife.

His hardest struggle was keeping his sanity against the terrors.

While Andrew was tormenting himself and performing his own Herculean labor, Sean was amusing himself quite differently.

He had dropped Ed on the sofa, and used a belt to fasten one of her hands to a front leg of the sofa. Then stomping into the kitchen he yanked the toaster cord out of the toaster, the power cord out of the microwave and the power cord from the toaster oven. Knotting them together, he returned to the living room grabbed Ed's free left hand and pushed it behind and under her. Snatching her right ankle, he twisted it under her, and then tied her left hand to her right ankle. He had pulled the cord tightly enough to hurt, but not so tight as to cut off circulation. He stepped back and considered his new toy for a moment, then grunted with satisfaction.

Sure that Ed was trussed securely he started inventorying the liquor cabinet. It was well stocked as would be expected of a home that occasionally entertained black tie, though few of the bottles had even been opened. Selecting an unopened bottle of an obscure single-malt scotch whiskey he sauntered into the kitchen. There he pulled an havarti cheese from the refrigerator, grabbed a box of crackers and strolled back to the living room.

There he opened the whiskey, held it to Ed's lips, and kept it there until she had swallowed a hefty dose of the 15-year-old scotch. Grinning to himself, Sean knew she soon wouldn't be able to think clearly enough to plot a way out of her situation even if she was able to get free. He doubted her ability to free herself from the bindings anyway. Settling into Andrew's favorite recliner he snacked on the cheese and crackers, washing it down with rare single malt scotch. Then he took a nap, sorely needed after the strenuous activities of the past twenty-four hours or so.

For Andrew the next hour seemed like a year, every moment a week. But he kept making tiny progress in working the chair's back free of the seat. Finally he succeeded.

Which of course left him with his feet tied to the chair legs and his hands still bound together behind him. But now he could see a way to gain his mobility.

First he stood up and leaned forward to examine the lashings around his ankles. Then letting himself fall to the side, Andrew wriggled and contorted until he was able to pull the ankle bindings down and off the ends of the chair's legs.

Now he could stand and move even if his arms were still bound behind him and the ties still wrapped his lower legs, impeding his mobility. Now he had access to things that could be turned into tools. And it was tools and a brain that enabled man to oust the cave bear, and extinct the saber-toothed tiger.

Shuffling over to his weight bench, he backed up to a spot where the padding had worn away which he had been intending to repair for months. Now he blessed his unusual procrastination. Leaning against the sharp edge he began rapidly, patiently sawing the ties against it. It took time, all of which were filled with his demons.

Particularly as he now heard the captor stirring in the living room. Particularly as he heard noises from his wife, and knew the son of a bitch was raping her again.

Later he was to wonder and marvel at his never once doubting Ed, never once did he wonder whether she was not really enjoying the sex. Never once, though he heard her responses to the bastard's actions. Heard her responses that said she welcomed the horrors being done to her small and exquisite body. He knew the woman, knew she loved him, knew her to the smallest most remote part of her being. At the time it was a torture to him. Later, after it was over, it saved his sanity.

After twenty minutes of sawing against the sharpness, ignoring the pain of slicing his own flesh with his efforts, one of the ties broke. After that it was only moments until his hands were free and just moments more until all the bonds were off.

Hefting the chair's uprights, he yanked the ladder back slats off and had the equivalent of a twenty-four inch night stick in his hand. And he was now free to move.

A sudden piercing scream from the living room decided him that he had no more time to plan. He had to take action now.

Clutching the make shift truncheon, Andrew stalked out the bedroom and into the living room. There he saw Ed, her right hand still lashed to the sofa leg but now she had been twisted around to lie with her belly on the sofa arm, her face buried in the sofa cushion. Her left hand was now held in Sean's huge fist, her legs waving in the air. Sean was standing between her, naked below the waist and with just the head of his prick lodged in Ed's rectum. Her face was a rictus of agony, her mouth now filled with Sean's jockey shorts muffling her agonized screams.

Andrew stopped, stunned as he saw the action in front of him. Then half ran to help his tortured woman. Sean seemed unaware of him until he began swinging the truncheon, aiming at the back of Sean's neck.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Sean turned just enough to avoid the side-armed swing from hitting its aim. Instead it landed with a solid thunk on the point of his left shoulder. He staggered away to his right, eyes suddenly wide at the violence of the strike and his left arm suddenly numb. In turning he did not let loose of Ed. She was dragged around until Sean's numb left hand was no longer able to hold her and she fell hard flat on her back.

The wind was knocked completely out of her, but she still fumbled to untie her arm from the sofa leg. She was first filled with hope that a rescuer had arrived, but sagged when she recognized Andrew. She knew he would be fearless, but what could this nice and gentle man do against the sadistic animal he now faced.

Andrew, unpracticed in any kind of fighting, let alone the art of using a truncheon, used a wide full arm swing aimed at Sean's head. The big man casually snatched the club and pulled hard.

Something totally unexpected happened. Sean was fully confident his yank on the club would wrench it easily from the wimp's hand. Instead, he found himself trying to pull Andrew's weight, the club remained firmly in his hand. Andrew, seeing and feeling Sean grab the club entered the other half of the world he had found when his mind went beyond white-hot passion and into the clear, calm and lucid world of pure hate. The world suddenly slowed down. Everything the son of a bitch did seemed now to be in slow motion. Every action was easily countered, and even better he seemed to sense his enemies next move before the animal made it. He found it ridiculously easy to plan his next move, based on what Sean would do and his own abilities.

The second time Sean yanked on the truncheon in his hand, he put his entire strength and body behind it. As he did, Andrew leaped toward him. Sean found himself staggering backward, the expected resistance never occurring. He stumbled and tripped over the rug and fell on his back. But he never let go of the club.

Andrew danced over his opponent, and when he landed on the other side of him he tried to pull the club from Sean's hand but was unable to do so.

Sean scrambled to his feet, keeping tight hold of his end of the two-foot club by which the two men seemed to be attached together. It's soft pink contrasting with the suddenly ruddy complexions of both men. Sean suddenly leaped at Andrew, sensing that once he was able to lay hands on the small man his weight and bulk alone would win the fight for him. But Ed had now unfastened her hand from the leg of the sofa and as he tried to move on Andrew, she slipped a foot around his ankle. Sean fell hard again, this time landing on his injured left shoulder.

The pain from the shoulder turned his world red for a moment, but he did not release the truncheon.

Carefully but swiftly coming back to his feet, Sean suddenly swung the club to his right, using his body as a fulcrum. Andrew, refusing to release the club was slammed against the wall, temporarily stunning him. But he kept his grip on the club.

Setting his feet, Sean swung the club with Andrew attached back to the left. But his hands were now sweaty, and at the apex of the swing the club slipped from his hand.

Suddenly without the offsetting anchor that was Sean's grip on the club, Andrew staggered backward. As fate would have it, he staggered backwards at a near run directly out the door to the patio. Still stumbling, the back of his knees caught the bench Ed had been tied on earlier. Falling backward over the bench his shoulders just cleared the top of the two inch iron pipe serving as a safety bar protecting visitors from a thirty story fall to the pavement below. But he still held the club. As he flew over the railing heading for his doom Ed screamed, and Sean involuntarily laughed.

But Andrew hooked the bar with his left hand, and easily held his bodies weight when it came against his the hold on the railing. And he still held the club.

Swinging his body to the left and then back he managed to hook a leg over the bar and rolled back onto the patio. Ed sagged with relief as Sean stared open mouthed at the dead man suddenly back confronting him.

Cat stepping toward him Andrew shifted his grip on the club, now holding it closer to the middle. He had learned about swinging a club. Stepping just out of arms reach of Sean, he suddenly drove the club forward like a spear into Sean's gut and the huge man's face turn white.

Sean staggered to his right and back, away from the wall. Andrew again drove the end into his belly, then drove it once again.

But this time, Sean was ready and while he was speared again he managed to latch on to the club. Heaving hard, trying to catch Andrew off guard he pulled with all his might. His size alone was obviously too much for Andrew's small frame to resist, forget leg strength. But Andrew managed to stretch out his left hand and caught the edge of the doorway. While the hold kept him from flying forward, the force of Sean's pull partially tore the frame loose.

Now Sean was between Andrew and the forty-story drop, and he judged one more hard pull and Andrew along with the doorframe would disappear over the side and onto the street below. Keeping pressure on the club, he shifted his feet to give himself the most leverage, leaned back and pulled with his shoulders, back and the strength of his legs against the small man and the now broken frame.

For the first time, Andrew let go of the club.

Sean, the monster, stumbled backwards totally out of control. The back of his thighs hit the iron bar, and he slowly leaned backward over the abyss below, frantically waving his arms and screaming. He disappeared over the edge, still clutching the club.

His high pitched almost feminine wail grew fainter until it suddenly stopped.

Andrew and Ed stood frozen, listening to the shriek get softer as it fell further. It had seemed to go on forever.

Andrew looked over to his wife, who was on the verge of collapsing. Taking her in his arms he held her close, then realized she was holding the fireplace poker. There was blood on the end. Gently taking it from her he dropped it on the deck and then led her into their penthouse home.

It was good, knowing he was not the only one fighting for their freedom and love.

Andrew carried his now weeping, nude wife into their apartment and into the bedroom. Pulling underwear out of her drawer he turned to his darling, and sat beside her on the bed.

"Ed, Edwina," he began, "we have to make some major decisions very fast. Honey, do you want the world knowing what happened here, what you had to go through?"

"Oh Jesus God, NO!" she wailed. "Don't let them know! Oh please, Andrew! Don't let anyone know!"

"I never will, my love. But we have just a few minutes to do a cover up as to the extent of this monster's depredations. Help me get you dressed, is that alright with you?"

She nodded yes, and he helped her slip into clothes as he pulled them out of the closet. He dressed her in a very conservative loosely fitting hostess pantsuit. Handing Ed a pair of her slippers appropriate to street wear, he lay her hair brush beside her.

Giving Ed a kiss on the forehead, he went in search of a phone but as expected their captor had disabled everything he could find. Snapping his fingers, he trotted back to the bedroom and pulled out his seldom used cell phone. For once, the battery was charged.

Then Andrew dialed 911.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The next morning Ed and Andrew were both exhausted. The police had arrived almost immediately after Andrew had dialed 911. A pair of detectives were already in an elevator heading up to the penthouse suite from which the man lying on the street below seemed to have fallen. With Ed and Andrew help it was only minutes before Sean was identified. It was only another few moments unfortunately before the press was trying to swarm over the world renowned Genius of the Piano and her mysterious reclusive husband, one of the modern giants of mathematics.

Ed and Andrew told both the police and the press only the bare facts. They had awakened to find Sean in the apartment, where he had holed up waiting for the search being made for him to die down. He had tied Andrew to a chair in the bedroom, from which he had worked himself loose. Shortly before Andrew managed to free himself, Sean had turned his amorous attentions on Ed who was trying to resist his advances when Andrew came bursting out of the bedroom wielding part of the broken chair. A fight that started in the living room, ended out on the patio. Sean had fallen backward over the railing, falling to his death on the concrete sidewalk 40 stories below. Only unbelievable luck had prevented Andrew from being the one going over the railing. Ed had tried to assist Andrew, but was afraid of striking her husband so mostly cried and wrung her hands.