Was it so different? Of course it was! But the difference was not in the rope or chain. It was in the woman who fastened them upon her limbs. Drusilla would never have fought Diana. But she would fight Mrs. Pendleton tooth and nail if given half a chance. Did that make her previous captivity false and this real? Drusilla strained against her bonds. They had been bound upon her by Diana. They were real enough! It was unlikely that Belinda Pendleton could tie or lock her more stringently... But there was something else.
Drusilla was excited. It was the familiar beat. The new fear accompanied but did not quench it. She was still owned. She had changed mistresses. This one would be more cruel and less lovable. She saw herself as a bound maiden awaiting sacrifice. Awaiting the pleasure of a personality she could not influence. To Belinda Pendleton her tears would be an aperitif. Hesitantly, she sought the eyes of the woman chained against the wall.
Several times since they had been left alone, this silent communion had exchanged the guilty secret they had no wish to share with the youngster tied to the bars. Each one was admitting to the other that, no matter their loathing for Belinda Pendleton, they felt in this new captivity an erotic potency more compelling than the old. Drusilla’s writhings against her ropes, and Diana’s constant testing and fingering of the metal bands upon her wrists were not a seeking for escape. They were a savoring of feminine bondage. The deliciousness of resignation to a helplessness imposed by another female.
It was one more discovery!
“A damned well-behaved trio,” Belinda Pendleton commented on her return.
No one answered. The mood was melancholy.
“Get organized. Make a fresh start.” Belinda was brisk.
She was busy with a key.
A cuff fell away from Drusilla’s wrist. Her arms were guided back to normal. The cuff snapped again. She raised her joined hands thankfully, rediscovering something she had lost. The skin of her wrists was chafed red. When the last rope was peeled from her wealed skin she rose stiffly to her feet and massaged her protesting knees.
“Don’t get any ideas, honey.” Mrs. Pendleton patted the newly released bottom with her crop. “I’ll cut you to pieces if you get foxy.” With Ginny, it was different. Pulled through the bars, her hands were cuffed behind her back. To make this possible, the ropes were loosed from above her breasts. They left the same scarlet and purple indentations with which Drusilla herself was decorated. Only when the teenager had been made helpless were the rest of the ropes taken from her limbs.
“What! No thank you?” Belinda asked sardonically. “Thank you for untying us.” Drusilla felt the thanks appropriate, but the words fell mechanically from her lips.
“No reason I should tell you the agenda,” Belinda said comfortably. “Things will happen to you. I promise you won’t be bored. I’ll take you one at a time. Handcuffed, you won’t give me much trouble.” She shook the crop menacingly. “This says you won’t give me any trouble at all. I’ll keep you naked so its bite will be worse than my bark.”
“Aren’t you going to unchain my neck?”
“Do you good to stand a while, Diana. Let your two little quails see how the mighty have fallen.”
“It’s a rotten way to keep me. I’ll tire.”
“I can make it worse.” The offer was crisp.
“Oh, all right. Have your fun.” Diana took a deep breath and avoided her daughter’s commiserating eyes. No one could doubt her shame.
“I intend to.” Belinda Pendleton’s words commanded attention. “I’m arranging a little entertainment. You’re the star.”
The silence was electric.
9
Discipline
“Elbows hurt?”
“Yes.” Drusilla turned to the woman driving the car. “You didn’t need to tie them—not so tight. My wrists would be enough.”
Mrs. Pendleton chuckled. “Keeps you tractable and makes your tits stick out. What’s it feel like, going through town naked?”
“We’ll be lucky if the police don’t pick us up,” Drusilla sniffed disapprovingly. “Someone gives me a double take at every red light.”
“Keeps your cat wet,” Belinda assured expansively.
“You sure look cute with the handcuffs on your ankles. Makes a nice change. Keep snuggled well into the corner. You were sensible not to choose the trunk; damned uncomfortable in there.”
“I’ll try and be sensible, Mrs. Pendleton. I don’t want to be terribly punished.”
“Call me Belinda, honey. And I’ll help out on the sensible business by keeping you hogtied.”
“Hogtied?”
“Figure of speech, love; You’ll just be wearing something so you don’t run.”
“I’m completely helpless.”
“Well, don’t bitch about it. This isn’t routine. You’re in transit.”
“But why the Albertsons?”
“Can’t keep you at my place, sweetheart. Homer would fuss.”
“Why can’t I stay with Diana and Ginny?”
“You’d all get comfort lapping each other’s cunts. Best you be separate. I’m even taking the chick from the mother hen.”
“Please don’t be cruel to Ginny.”
Belinda chuckled. “I’ll be as cruel as I want. That perky pigeon is a dish. But I’m not all bad. little Ginny’s my ace in the hole. Any time Diana balks at something I want, I’ll just trice her sweet little daughter up by her wrists and whip the little darling steady until Mama decides to behave. Think of the possibilities, honey. Diana would walk through fire to save her poppet from a licking. I’m going to have Madam walking tightropes.”
Drusilla thought of it with aching heart. It was foolproof. Her darling Mistress was lost. “Am I going to be whipped today?” she asked forlornly.
“Quigley will probably want to. It’s his thing. Dammit, Drew, I’m getting a charge out of this! I can do anything I damn please with you three. Anything! I own three cunts, two used and one virgin, and six tits and boobs... ! It’s staggering. ”
“Couldn’t you be satisfied with just me?”
“I could if I had to. You’re sweet. You’re a natural, aren’t you? I mean, you love it all?”
“I don’t love these ropes on my elbows.”
“Yes, you do. I can tell. There’ll be a stain on the seat....” Belinda contemplated her blessedness. “It’s out of this world, Drew! I keep looking for kickers but there aren’t any. Nobody’s going to go to the police. None of you can escape. I’m the luckiest woman in the U.S. of A.” She spared her captive an amused glance. “If I stopped the car right now, would you want to get out and go looking for help?”
“No!” It was an alarmed negative.
“See? You’re foxed! The lot of you. Not that I’d make the offer to Ginny, she’s an impetuous kid. I’ll keep her well corralled.”
Drusilla knew her familiar shame at the flare of lust that engulfed her from this vivid awareness of impotence. Bound and delivered! She was Belinda’s chattel. “Are you really going to do that cruel thing to Diana?” she asked anxiously.
“What cruel thing, honey?”
“That—you called it a ‘Ritual Flogging’?”
“Oh, my little drama! That’s going to be precious, Drew. You’ll want to watch, won’t you? Darling Ginny’s going to have to. I bet she’ll kick up a fine old fuss. Probably have to gag her.”
“But Diana hasn’t done anything!”
Belinda’s guffaw was instant. “Yes, she has. She was born a beauty, and she’s Diana Winslow. That’s enough. Besides, she’s upstaged me too often. I’ll adore lacing her back. I’m just wondering how big a crowd to ask in. It would be wasted on just the kid.”
Drusilla felt butterflies in her tummy. “Flogged!” It sounded too awful to contemplate. Diana was handcuffed and locked in the cell with nothing else to think about except that she was going to be triced up and her back slashed and lashed with some beast of a Whip. Ginny would suffer the same agonies of suspense as her mother. Her indignation gave her poor comfort. Drusilla recalled the day before and the restless night.