“She can’t possibly do that awful thing to you, Mummy!”
“You mustn’t get all het up, Ginny pet. There’s probably going to be a lot of this sort of thing.”
“I’ll scream the place down.”
“Ginny, cool it. What happens, happens. I’m so damned helpless I could weep.”
They had been a sad and ineffectual trio. Belinda had finally unchained Diana’s neck. But she and her daughter were helpless with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Belinda had laughingly told Drusilla her hands were locked in front so she could “help out.” The small cell had seethed with naked frustration. Ginny’s hesitant apprehension had been pathetic.
“Will she really whip my breasts, Mummy?”
It had stared them in the face. The implacability of their bonds and the grim bars, and Belinda’s laughing threats. Or were they promises!
“I’m collecting pubic hair. I pull ’em out one at a time with tweezers.”
The threat had sent Drusilla’s hands to clutching her crotch. But no one had laughed. Diana’s black fronds flaunted themselves as though in daring.
“Mummy, she won’t do these awful things! She won’t!”
And then the pathetic amendment. “Will she?”
It had been a very female captivity.
“You were asking about Quigley,” Belinda mused. “I suppose you realize he’ll fuck you?”
“No!” The rejection was violent. And then: “Why would he?”
“You’re a slave girl, that’s why, honey. You’re available. ”
“Against my will?”
“Don’t you find that a cunt curler, sweet? I do.”
It was! Drusilla knew it was! Her flesh was a traitor. She thought longingly of the captivity she had lost. “Don’t let him,” she pleaded, struggling ineffectually in her distress. “Tell him he mustn’t. You could tell him... ?”
“Those two really conditioned you.” Belinda was amused. “Might say you were ‘tongue tied.’” She chuckled at her pun. “Quigley will be a nice change for you. But remember this. He expects you to enjoy it. Act sulky, and he’ll do things to you that’ll make you howl for him to have another try.”
“What things?”
“You can easily find out, love.”
That was her life now. To be a plaything, a receptacle for lust and lash. Two days ago she could have added love. But that was gone! The soft breasts and pungent curls were locked in a cell. Even their owner’s hands had been taken from them.
“Well, here’s Minnie,” announced Belinda as she steered the car up the short drive to the waiting figure at the front door of the Albertsons’ not inconsiderable residence. “You should try and look pleased. She adores you and she’s thrilled to bits over what you’ve become. She’s damned near a slave herself.”
“Oh, Drew!” Minnie’s hands were clasped in delight.
“You’re tied so beautifully! Did you tie her, Belinda?”
“Best way to keep a quail sensible, Minnie.”
“Minnie, get me out of this. It’s gone far enough. Please!!!”
“Give her a licking for that. About five, I’d say,” Belinda advised heartily.
Minnie never managed to cope with life. She allowed it to flow over her. “Oh, I will, I will!” she assured. And then, anxiously. “You won’t mind, will you, Drew dear?”
“Of course I mind! Minnie, you absolutely must make a stand. Let me loose!”
“Poor dear’s been under a strain. But better raise the ante to eight—and make ’em hard.” Belinda’s voice had lost some of its bonhomie.
“Oh, dear!” Minnie looked compassionately at the bound woman in the car. “A whole eight strokes right at the start... !” She visibly swallowed her concern and added brightly. “But, of course, it could be worse, couldn’t it?”
“Don’t be inane, Minnie. You don’t have to baby her. Just make sure she doesn’t get loose.”
By an effort of will, Drusilla remained mute while the handcuffs were taken from her ankles. Silence might be golden while Belinda was around. She could work on Minnie later. She suffered strong hands to pull her from the car, and a blanket to shield her naked bondage for the short journey to the house. She looked around hopefully but there was no one and nothing in sight.
“I’ll phone you, Minnie.” Belinda was urgent. “I’ve got me things to do. Don’t you get softhearted with her, now! Quigley will have your ass!”
Alone, the two girls assessed each other. Between their previous social intimacy and this moment there lay a chasm of things unsaid, unknown and undone. Minnie whisked away the blanket.
“Oh, Drew, you’re so beautiful!”
Her admiration was unfeigned. Her eyes were soft. “I don’t feel beautiful. I feel—dejected.”
“It’s having your elbows tied, darling. Quigley does it to me. It hurts gorgeously and pulls your shoulders back and sticks out your breasts—and a girl sways when she walks. Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come!”
“Minnie, I didn’t come. I was brought here, delivered like a sack of potatoes!”
Minnie giggled. “Isn’t it a lovely feeling?”
“Never mind the feeling! You absolutely MUST let me go! I’ve got to do something about Diana and Ginny! Please, quickly!”
“But I couldn’t possibly!” Minnie looked askance as though at a suggestion of treason. “Oh, darling, don’t keep on at me about untying you. I just can’t!”
“You can!”
“No—Oh, you don’t understand... ! There’s Belinda and Quigley... and a sort of trust—and doing the right thing—”
“Untying me is the right thing. Quick!”
“Oh, but it isn’t! Oh, darling, I have to give you eight strokes now. Don’t make me have to give you any more!”
“You don’t have to give me even one.”
“I do! Oh, dear—! Really, Drew, you must try and understand. I mustn’t lie about it—and they’ll check for the marks!”
“You mean you’re actually going to cane me or whip me or something... !” Drusilla gazed at her companion in dawning realization.
“What else can I do?”
“Let me loose! You must! You must!”
Minnie’s face betrayed her concern. “Darling, if you keep on like this I’ll have to give you more than eight. It bothers me so your pleading like this. I thought we were going to have such a lovely time together. Comparing well, comparing the things that get done to us, and our marks, and our pussies... Oh, Drew!”
Minnie was a dear. The bound girl longed to take her in her arms. Drusilla swayed her bound shoulders in irritation at such helplessness. Minnie Albertsons’ intransigence was as defeating as the ropes deep in her flesh. Defeatedly, she asked “What must I do now?”
“I thought we’d have coffee, darling, and a few giggles.”
“I can’t drink coffee tied like this, Minnie.”
Minnie brightened. “Oh, I can look after that, Drew!” The chagrined captive could not forbear sarcasm. “Does the coffee come before or after you’ve whipped me?”
“Oh, let’s leave it till after!” Minnie was a child again.
It was hard not to laugh! Or to cry! Or to have hysterics.
It was all too absurd! But in its simplicity, frightening! Sitting naked on a kitchen chair by Minnie’s kitchen table, Drew watched her ankles ringed by handcuffs once again. She was already collared: all Minnie had to do was attach a chain. The chain led to a ring in the wall above the chair. A padlock completed this domestic captivity. Then, and not till then, Minnie loosed the ropes.
“Poor darling!” she exclaimed as the weals proclaimed themselves at elbow and wrist and were massaged for a moment by tender hands. “But I won’t rub them too hard. They’re so lovely. We may as well let them last. Comfy, Drew?”