“Going to be silly?”
“No, Mistress.”
Diana gave her small chance. She unlocked but a single cuff and held it firm against a bar. “Turn your back and give me your hand again.”
Drusilla realized this as one of the moments. Cliches sped through her mind: The moment of truth. Time of decision. Point of no return. She rejected them. She had made a gift of herself, so why deny obedience to her chosen mistress! There was also a delightful tingling up her spine. Meekly she turned and placed her free hand beside its captive twin and shivered visibly as the warm metal once more clicked it into custody.
“Oh, Mumsie! Poor Drew! It’s so strange for her.”
“She has to learn, dear. I can detect traces of rebellion. You must see if you can help her understand what’s expected. Maybe you can save her sweet little bottom a lot of strokes.”
Drusilla flushed and felt young and silly and about ninety percent breasts and pubic hair. The sudden loss of her hands and arms made her trebly naked. She tugged testingly at her locked wrists and knew she had lost them.
“Teach you what it’s like to be dependent, Dru’.” Diana was briskly cheerful. “I’m going to make you mind.”
For a moment their eyes met and they were Mrs. Hinton Winslow and Mrs. Bryce Hammill again. Drusilla’s eager smile faded against the authority of the metal on her wrists.
“Back up here again, Dru’ dear.”
Hopefully the slave obeyed. Perhaps Diana had relented!
Again her hands found their way between two bars.
“I don’t need them. Stand still.”
Drusilla tensed, then began to melt as beloved fingers caressed her neck, disposing her hair. For moments her breathing stopped as the leather band circled her throat and nestled snugly. A padlock made a decisive snap and imposed a tiny weight.
“Oh, darlings, it’s gorgeous!” Ginny sparkled her delight. The newly collared slave turned wonderingly. “Why—? I mean, what’s it for? It’s some sort of collar...!”
“And it won’t come off, sweetheart,” Diana gloated.
“You’ll have to wear it always. It’s my gift to you this day.”
“Oh, darling!” Drusilla forgot the dolours of her captivity. She thrust her radiant features against the bars, her lips pleading. The two women kissed in a tremendous need until Ginny broke the spell.
“Oh, Mumsie, can I have one like that?”
“No, you can’t, dear. I got it specially for Drew.”
“But it’s so lovely, and it really does something for a girl,” Ginny giggled. “It makes the rest of Drew look beautifully naked.”
“I can’t see it and I can’t touch it,” Drusilla mourned.
“I’d be ever so good if I could have one?” Ginny coaxed. “I’ll get you an iron collar, Miss Impudent, if you don’t shut up,” Diana threatened affectionately.
“I wouldn’t mind, Mother. I’d look simply scrumptious.”
“I’d make sure you couldn’t get it off. You’d have to wear it to school.”
“I’d tell them it was gold or silver or something.”
“I believe you would, you little baggage. If I did get you one it would have little points inside. You wouldn’t like it a bit.”
“Oh, Mo-t-h.e-r-r-r-r!”
“Isn’t she a darling?” Diana chuckled as she turned away. The prisoners heard her receding footsteps. A door slammed.
“A whole week! Oh, gollies!” Ginny’s return to reality was abrupt. “Oh, Drew, seven days—in here!”
“She’s just scaring us, darling.”
“You sure?”
Strangely enough, Drusilla was sure. Despite her less comfortable condition, the kiss and the brief communion of the eyes had given her a confidence she knew she should never have lost. Things had slipped back into place. The collar, harsh as it might become, clung lovingly to her flesh. “I’m sure ,” she affirmed jauntily.
“And no supper!”
Drusilla felt mischievous. “Want to bet we won’t eat?” she teased.
“Oh, darling, you’re so sweet. But don’t forget: You’ve got seven and I’ve got ten. D’you want to risk some more?”
“I bet your mother was stringing us along on that, too.”
“Oh, Drew, she wasn’t. I know Mummy.”
“But she hasn’t given them to us. She could have.”
“She’ll let us stew. It’s awful.” Ginny’s voice betrayed her delight in the awfulness.
Seven cuts with a cane across her bare bottom! Ginny’s certainly carried conviction. Drusilla shrugged. “We’ll just have to grin and bear it,” she said cheerfully.
“You and Mumsie have got something going, I can tell,” Ginny grinned shrewdly. “You’re feeling better. You don’t even mind being caned. I’m ever so glad.”
“I’m a silly girl. Your mother can do anything she likes with me,” Drusilla admitted wryly.
“She does anything she likes with me, too, darling.” Drusilla shrugged.
“There’s probably a difference some where. But don’t let’s worry about it.”
“Let’s rub our tits together, Drew.”
“How on earth can we? No hands!”
Ginny giggled. “I expect we can if I kneel up and you kneel down. You’re not much taller. Oh, Drew darling, is it very awful for you to be handcuffed like that?”
“Not when I’m with you, Ginny. Here, try this position. If you straighten, and I sort of hunch forward... !”
Before they fell asleep, they had forgotten their handcuffs entirely.
Somewhere in the dead of night a scented hand cautioned silence on Drusilla’s lips. Strong fingers clasped and pulled her from the warm entanglement of nudity where she had slept, and propelled her from the cell. She heard the door click shut upon a still unconscious Ginny, then stumbled after her mistress to their bed.
“I’m not punishing myself as well,” Diana whispered urgently into a complaisant ear. “I’m so damned hungry for you—” There came a brief pause. “Do you need your hands?”
Drusilla snuggled close. She was very happy. “Not really,” she said dreamily, “—unless you want me to—?” There seemed no need of words.
Soon she was busily employed.
6
Her Mistress
“Keep your handcuffs above the table, Drew.”
“Yes, Mistress. May I pour the coffee now?”
“Do you realize this is our fifth breakfast like this? Ginny’s off to school. Just the two of us. I don’t believe you even know you’re handcuffed. You’ve worn ’em day and night the whole time, back or front.”
It was true. Drusilla glowed. She floated within the heated confines of a female fantasy, utterly absorbed, totally possessed. She had never been so happy. She bit at toast and twinkled at her mistress. “You love my handcuffs more than you love me,” she accused.
“Your handcuffs are you.” Diana made a deprecatory gesture. “Sight of ’em makes me as horny still as on the day you phoned.”
“Are you always going to keep me naked?”
“You’re not naked. You’re wearing handcuffs and collar. I’m going to think up a few other things... ” she grinned. “That collar keeps you as horny as the cuffs make me.”
“What about handcuffs for Ginny? Same effect?” Drusilla was curious.
“Yes. Shocking, I suppose,” Diana chuckled. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”
“I adore her. I just can’t help it.”
“We’ll have to watch the little darling,” Diana admitted.
“She could easily steal you from me and me from you.”
“No, she won’t,” Drusilla said with certainty. “Ginny’s something special all by herself. She’s us when we were her age: only more so. You’re awfully rough on her, y’know.”
“She loves it,” the proud mother said complaisantly. “I gave the poor kid a shocking time before you and I got properly started. It was the handcuffs... ! I just couldn’t help myself. I locked ’em on her for every excuse I could find. Sometimes I didn’t even bother with an excuse. If she hadn’t had a love affair with them herself I’d feel guilty as hell. ”