"No, oh no!" Ilona fought desperately. "Don't you see. . ? As long as you hold Susan I'll work with you? or let her go and hold me?"
"Always envied lesbians. Selma." Karamal's tone was reflective. "Judging by what they'l do for each other a tongue and a clit must be a helluva' lot better than a cock and a cunt."
"Please. . please! Let me get the money?"
"Lady, you got any idea what those two youngsters are worth on our Market. . ? It's anything up to a couple of million apiece. I know poor old bastards who'l pay a thousand dollars a shot for trying to screw 'em with a limp dink, or maybe spanking their little bottoms. Can you match that?"
"Only if I sell the business. I'll do it, honest I'll?"
"Too much kerfuffle, Miss Paisley. No money in kidnapping. It's a mug's game.
What we're going to do with you is neat and tidy."
"You're going to ruin four lives?!"
Immediately she had spoken the words, Ilona knew she had gone too far. There was a long, long silence before Selma said, icily: "Five, Nora."
She was turned around, and then turned again. Nora's hands on her bare shoulders forced her to kneel, then bent her forward to place her forehead on the rug.
Nora's whisper was for her ears alone: "Keep still while I whip you. If you roll around and scream it will be ten. When it's over say a real good thank you."
It was a hateful pose. Ilona was positive she must be positioned to point her taut and arrogant bottom at those who would now watch it wealed by Nora's crop.
Because of the watching eyes it was vital to her that she should neither scream or roll upon the floor as her flesh was striped. She would long to but she must not.
"Don't hurry, Nora. Let Mr. Karamal enjoy. Miss Paisley is an excellent subject."
So she has been watched! Back there in her darkness through the days and nights this woman, Selma, had gloated over her writhings and her tussles with her chains!
But that was over. What mattered was now. Ilona repeated over and over to herself: five, five. . It must not be ten, it must not be ten! She pressed her head hard against the rug and wished Nora would hurry and cut her with the first stroke. Rut when it came it was far, far worse than she remembered. Within her fiery hell of pain, silent and motionless, she supposed it always was. A girl would never, never become used to being whipped. It would always be unimaginably awful. Or perhaps, this time, it was because of her posture and tensioned skin and because the crop hurt worse than did the whip. Ilona Paisley clenched her teeth, she clenched her bound hands, her breathing was tumultuous, but she did not move.
"I should put her price up." Selma said thoughtfully. "Damn and blast it Carl, you and I have just seen something remarkable. Don't waste this one. Hell, she's worth nine million, she's worth the moon!"
"The right man will pay it." Carl agreed. "And I'll find him. She may have to stay awhile behind bars." He turned to Nora. "Look, girl, keep this one safe. Don't give her the faintest chance of escape."
"None of them will escape. Mr. Karamal. I guarantee it." Nora's voice was smugly assured, tinged with pride.
No escape! It was as though the cords on her wrists and the metal shields on her eyes had spoken the words. Of course she would not escape! The days and days of darkness and the chains had taught her that. Nora's drill had taught her lessons too.
Hating the ritualistic humility, she controlled her voice to simulate gratitude: "Thank you for whipping me. Nora. You did it very well."
"I'll be go to hell!" Karamal ejaculated admiringly. "I'm a damn good mind to keep this one myself."
"You can kneel properly, girl. Get your head off the floor." Selma sounded almost cordial. "Nora, turn her round to face us. Her rump's a picture but we've had enough of it."
Ilona knelt as the hands placed her. With arms tied behind her back it was difficult not to seem to bow forward submissively, to kneel erect might appear defiant. Her blazing bottom denied the flood of questions she longed to ask. Not that the questions mattered much any more if she was being taken to a brothel and made subject to a sale to any male who might find her loins to his liking. Life was Over.
"You'll have Nora 'tend 'em, eh. Selma? I've got the arrangements to deal with.
You won't have to feed 'em too long?"
"Of course, and they'll be safe."
"Dammit! Selma, sell me that girl? I like the way she handles bodies, and she's an artist with that riding crop."
"Carl, I need her!"
"You can get another. You can recruit One a lot easier than I can."
The kneeling woman, blind and bound, could visualize them: Middle aged, money, fat cats complacent with a good thing going. She found herself rooting for Carl. She wanted Nora as badly as he did. If he intended to keep her blind. Nora was her eyes and hands.
"I suppose I could lend her to you while you get 'em settled." Selma's concession was grudging. She chuckled. "But I'll want a deposit on her, something substantial."
"Don't you trust me?"
"Yes, but not with saleable females." Selma turned her attention to her maid.
"Nora, would you want to go with Mr. Karamal? If he's going to keep Miss Paisley blind he needs you."
"I'll do whatever you tell me. Mrs. Szabo."
"Wonderful!" Carl was pleased. "The girl's a honey, Selma. Have her look after the merchandise. Let's you and me go have a drink."
How hateful to be blind! To have to guess at what was going on around you, using words and sounds to paint pictures, forbidden to speak, hands bound. Ilona Paisley saw herself as a nothing. She had been reduced to a bodily orifice for men to use. In dumb misery she listened to sounds. . Then, in response to Nora's hand, rose to her feet.
It was a longish walk, and there were stairs going down, there were doors and the chill of cold air on her bare skin. Nora's whisper was urgent but assured.
"You keep being obedient. Miss Paisley, do like I say."
"Of course I will. Nora!" Ilona had never been more sincere.
"You can't ask questions, but soon you get a few answers?" A pause as though in thought. "I sure do hope I get to go with you, I'd like that a lot. Miss Paisley."
"Yes! Oh, Nora. . Yes!"
"I'm going to untie your hands soon. You going to be sensible?"
"Yes. . oh, yes!" Suddenly, the air was warm.
The floor was stone under her bare feet. Ilona sensed space while she stood passively for her hands to be untied.
"Stretch 'em a moment, Miss Paisley, and rub your wrists. I know it feels good."
Nora's concession was amused.
It did feel good, very good indeed! Ilona allowed her nudity to be pressed back against an easily identified column and her arms pul ed back. "Hold 'em close for the handcuffs. Miss Paisley." Nora's request was without anxiety. A moment later there were the familiar clicks and the familiar clutch of metal bands. Nora's lips brushed her cheek in approval, her whisper was close to a captive ear.
"I'm going to take the blinds off, Miss Paisley."
"Oh. Nora? Nora?!" The captive throat was choked with emotion, the captive heart thudding painfully.
"I'll have to put them back on you again, before anyone sees."
"Yes, of course! Oh. Nora! I won't struggle. I promise I won't give you trouble Oh, thank you!"
The blind girl was alight with happiness, uncaring for the rest of her predicament.
Eagerly, she strained forward against her hand cuffs to expose the nape of her neck to Nora's merciful fingers, when she knew the metal shields in her eye hollows were free she closed her eyes.
"You've been blind a long time, Miss Paisley. Take it easy."
Ilona took it easy. The first moments of reawakening sight were almost agony, she dared look only through slits shielded by eyelashes. But they were ecstatic moments to be cherished and long remembered.