"Will they treat Susan special?"
"Not likely. That little girl's so damn lush. She's a dish."
"Will you still whip me now if I ask meaningful questions?"
"Yes, Miss Paisley."
"None of the four of us have much to look forward to, have we?"
"Depends on how you look at it, Miss?"
"But, Nora, aren't you scared? The way that man talked??"
"Sure I'm scared, Ilona." The grasp on a captive arm tightened. "Now, just you hold real still!"
The thrust of the hypodermic was unmistakable. Until she lost consciousness Ilona Paisley held very still indeed.
Chapter Five
The first impression was of an incongruity of scents.
Paramount, the barnyard. . hay, animals, straw. But here and there came wafts of Paris: Coty, Aviance, Shalimar. Ilona shook her bowed head dazedly at a restricted view: her own pubic hair, her own splayed open thighs, and a great deal of clean straw on which she was sitting. Memory prompted with a jolt. She could see!
She had vision! Her eyes opened wide in wonder.
"Hello, Ilona Paisley."
The voice began with riding boots and jodhpurs. Expensive! Ilona's rising focus took in a riding crop, negligently draped from the crossed knees of someone sitting on a wooden box, a silk shirt, and the amused features of Cicely Woods.
"I said, hello, Ilona. C'mon, wake up."
As was usual now, everything was wrong. As her head cleared, Ilona took stock.
Cicely Woods should not be there. Neither of them should be in a barn. She herself should not be naked in front of the richest woman in Texas, and she ought to be able to move. But she could not move. Her arms were spread wide along a pole, part of the partition of the stall, her wrists tied tight. Around her upper arms and almost within her armpits were straps, cinching her firmly. They had sustained her weight while she was unconscious. Her shoulders hurt.
"Out of the frying pan into the fire? Poor girl!"
She remembered the voice. Always a trace of mockery, amused, arrogant, coldly angry. No one forgot Cicely Woods. Ashamed of how she must appear before the insolent eyes, Ilona riffled straw with a protesting foot. Resignedly, she demanded:
"Alright, Cicely, what's the deal?"
The riding crop reached forward to touch a naked nipple, then its twin. From there it descended to rearrange pubic curls and insert its tip within closed labia to make their owner gasp.
"They're the deal, honey: tits and twat. The rest of you comes with the package.
Nice!"
"Karamal? That woman??"
"I just happened to drop in, dear. They grabbed a quick profit. I grabbed you.
Always wanted to whip your ass, ever since that first time. Now I'm going to."
"You mean you've bought me, like a slave?"
"Dammit', girl, show a bit of gratitude. You were on your way to a brothel."
There was a cool tinkle of laughter. "Or would you have preferred that to me?"
"Of course I'm grateful, Cicely, and I'll reimburse?"
"You know damn well you won't reimburse anybody, pet. You'll stay tied and chained and well whipped until I sell you to someone else. You can kick any notions of escape, there'll never be any."
"Cicely, you can't do this?!"
"Been doing it for years, honey. Mostly they've been squirming little butts and breasts. Tedious. There's a piquancy about you I'm going to enjoy," The lovely features softened. "Think of it! A leading publisher naked and tied in a horse stall waiting to have her bottom beaten."
"It's been beaten already, and where am I?"
"The ranch in Texas. This barn never sees a horse or a cow, just girls. I have considered breeding some of the little lovelies, but it's a sixteen year cycle. Handier to pay Karamal. Since the Arabs turned Shylock I've been deluged with cash."
"Cicely, you'll go to jail, you can't possibly hide me!"
"Don't be silly. You know better. You're like laundered money, you've been exchanged. No one's going to look here for you. Resign yourself to being a slave, honey. That's what you are."
They looked at each other levelly. Understanding was mutual. "What's my life going to be?" Ilona asked wearily. "What d'you want me for?"
"To thrash."
"What!" The naked woman surged against her bonds.
"Got to you, eh! But that's right. Whenever I'm in a foul mood I'll take it out on you. Remember the whipping boys and girls they used to have? Well. .! To thrash a naked girl's the best pick-me-up I know. You're marked now. You always will be."
"Is that. . all?"
"You know damn well it's not. I may be heterosexual as hell in New York, but here I'm pure Les', so that means you'l get to sleep in a bed sometimes? properly restrained of course. The rest of the time you'l be a maiden in distress, tied, tethered, caged, the whole bit. That scene's always intrigued me. Sometimes I may give you to a man, someone I want to tip or get a favour out of."
"Cicely, it's all cruelty?!"
"No it's not! I'll make sure you get your little cunt nicely frictioned, give you something to look forward to. You'll find trying to escape will give you no end of entertainment. There'll be a few human contacts. It's not all bad. Oh, and you're going to be exercised. I want that lovely body to stay as it is, or maybe refine it even more. You're almost as yummy with your clothes off as I am. You'll be able to see. ."
Ilona Paisley slumped in defeat. Cicely Woods owned half the oil wells in the State. She had always been selfishly implacable. She would be so now. Outrageous as the situation might be, it was cruelly plausible. Cicely would get away with it. She watched her new owner get languidly to her feet and saunter to the open door.
"Cicely?"
"Not now, pet, I'm busy."
"Cicely, please come back. Don't leave me like this?!"
"Don't be a bore, dear."
Watching Cicely depart into the sunlight, Ilona vented her frustrations in a furious battle with her bonds. She could not move either them or herself. She was nakedly free from her waist down, but what good did that do when her arms and shoulders were solidly clamped to a rail! Exhausted, she indulged in the luxury of tears.
Quietly sobbing, she allowed her head to fall forward in despair. As time passed and the ropes and straps hurt more and more she wondered what she had left to live for.
"Miss Paisley, you been crying??"
It was more of the impossible! The bound girl gazed up in astonishment. "Nora??"
"She bought me too, Miss. Seems like money doesn't matter."
"But, Nora, you? you're. .! Oh, you poor dear!"
A hope raised, a hope denied! Nora was as naked as she herself. The maid's feet were chained, metal bands round each ankle and a swirling length of heavy links.
She could not run, and would need to walk with caution. Riveted on her neck was a metal slave collar, snug, and with a ring.
Nora shrugged. "Seems like I've gone back a'ways, Miss. This woman's really something. . ! She's got a whipping post out in the yard-all sorts of stuff. Keeps my neck chained at night."
"But, how come you??"
"Oh, like I am? I'm supposed to look after you. She says I'm a groom. If you're thinking why don't I run off, it's because I can't run, can't walk properly with all this iron. And anyway, there's nowhere to run. This damn place is twenty miles from anywhere."
"Then we're both??" Ilona could not bring herself to say it.
Nora nodded despondently. "That's right. We're a pair of real old fashioned slaves. . except we take our orders different ways."
"You're still my jailer, and you'll still punish me?"
"Seems to be the idea." Nora grinned ruefully. "It's sort of crazy. . you and me now, like this. Look, Ilona, if you don't want to obey me, you just say so right now. I don't want to be mean to you any more. I'll balk. The worst she can do is whip me."