While she gulped it greedily, he said, suavely: "D'you mind if I compliment you on that amazingly lush patch of public hair. . and those breasts?"
"Of course I don't mind, Bruce, I'm female. But now I'll be conscious of all three for the next few minutes." She looked up at him wistfully. "Am I really that lovely?
Or is it just that I'm naked?"
"You're lovely. Here, finish this drink. I think you're crowd shy."
"Wouldn't you be if you were like this!" Ilona took the last swallows and asked the question she had to ask:
"Bruce, if I asked you to help me escape, would you report me to Cicely?"
"Of course. We're all under oath to do that. We owe it to her." He chuckled.
"Some of the propositions I've had here. .!"
"I sort of expected that. Are you going to report me?"
"Yes."
"She'll whip me."
"That was a chance you took."
"I don't really want to escape at all. I can't explain that, so don't ask."
"It figures. Cicely's the most radiant female in Texas and the most accomplished lesbian extant? Ilona, are those handcuffs bothering you?"
"No, I'm bothering them. I wiggle at them all the time. I expect it's a reflex, or I'm embarrassed? For sure I don't hope to get loose."
"That collar? It won't come off?"
"No, never. Add a padlock and chain and I become a permanent resident."
Bruce surveyed her soberly. "You're for real, aren't you? Or could you walk away?"
"I can't walk away. I did try, but it wasn't any use. That's when Cicely had this iron collar riveted on my neck. It's something else I can't walk away from."
He nodded, intrigued. "How else did she punish you?" Ilona squirmed. "I don't know yet. It's still hanging over my head."
"You don't seem too worried." He bestowed a charming grin. "Think Cicely would sell you to me?"
The blaze of heat in Ilona's sex was as unexpected as his question. Sold! Bought!
People wanted her badly enough to pay money. Thought of being both marketable and desirable caused the handcuffs to mock her wrists and the collar to burn her neck, her pulse quickened. "I don't think I'm for sale." She said primly. "But thanks anyway, I'm flattered."
"The girl doesn't need money" Bruce mused quietly.
"But I might tempt her with a deal. .!" He tilted the glass to her lips with gentle concern. "I like you, Ilona. I like you a lot."
"It's my nakedness you like, Bruce. If I was dressed and without the handcuffs you wouldn't notice me."
He waved her surmise to the winds. "I've seen a lot of naked girls, Ilona, that impact's gone. But there's a quality about you. I'd make a guess you amounted to something before you were kidnapped? You were kidnapped, I suppose?"
"Oh, sure." Ilona laughed at his perception. "I expect it adds sexual punch to my charisma. I've been properly bound and gagged in the old tradition."
"Don't laugh." Bruce warned. "There's a wickedly potent emanation from you, a radiance. I'd like to turn you round and look at your handcuffed wrists. But we're watched. Not the proper moment."
She liked him more and more. Laughing, she teased:
"Suppose you made a purchase, what would you do with me?"
"First off I'd cane your bottom."
Again the heat! His direct insouciance was enchanting.
But his intent was unexpected. "Why would you do that to me? I mean, to punish me right away?"
"Because you're still too much of your own woman. I'd see it as cementing my possession of you. I've got one of those lovely English canes. . yel ow. . they come from Singapore. I'd bend you over to get the proper stretch on your skin."
"So I hurt more. Yes, I know all about it."
"Hate me?"
"Goodness, no! Why should I?" She twinkled at him mischievously. "I'm a slave, and I know I'm a slave. I know I'll be whipped and caned. . and things, from time to time. The shock factor's over for me."
"And you're feeling quite safe under Cicely's ownership." Bruce wagged an admonitory finger. "Don't underrate me. You and I might just have a date one of these days with a long yel ow English cane. . !" His voice changed. "Look, I've monopolized you long enough. I'm getting signals. Come along."
They were a pleasant middle aged pair, only slightly hardened by wealth. The woman examined Ilona's features, the man looked at her breasts. Bruce's introduction was casuaclass="underline" "Ilona, this is Senator and Mrs. Hardwick. I expect they'l let you call 'em Bill and Marian."
Ilona watched Bruce's departing back in dismay. Marian Hardwick's regard was affably hostile, her husband's frankly lecherous. She did her best to smile.
"You're just what Elmer's always wanted." Mrs. Hardwick got in the first sharp words, no doubt she would also say the last. "Don't mind him ogling your tits, honey.
He's got a fixation about tits. He never did like mine."
"Say, girl, are those handcuffs for real?" The Senator's tone was warm, as for a voting constituent. "Cicely thinks up the damnedest things for these little affairs."
Obligingly, Ilona turned and stood passively while her handcuffs and hands were lingeringly fondled. Mrs. Hardwick snorted jeeringly. "Why don't you ask her if her tits are real, Elmer? She'll stick 'em out for you."
Ilona flushed angrily. "I'm sorry." She said coldly. "If you'l excuse me?" She turned away.
"Hey, hold it!" The senator's voice held authority.
"Marian's getting a dig at me. Look, honey, we called you over on purpose."
"He wants to buy you from Cicely, or a reasonable facsimile." His wife retorted acidly. "Let him get it out of his system, Miss. . whatever you are. He's harmless."
Her eyes narrowed. "Did Cicely actually buy you for cash money?"
Why not be amused! Ilona shrugged away her pique, replacing it with girlish charm. "It actually starts when you get kidnapped." She explained patiently. "Then the kidnappers, you could describe them as brokers, sell you to someone who wants a slave. They whip you until you decide to behave." Her eyes twinkled. "I've become very obedient. So far as buying me, I don't think I'm for sale. But you could ask Cicely."
"She the one who whipped you into shape?"
"I was lucky to have several trainers."
"Huh, this Cicely business! Sounds disrespectful. You use first names with each other?"
"Yes. We thought the Mistress and Madam image overdone, Mrs. Hardwick.
Punishments are so very personal when they come from someone with a real name."
"Hurt more?"
"Yes they do. The pride gets bruised along with my skin."
Mrs. Hardwick's interest was captured. "Damn girl makes sense, Elmer." She conceded briskly. "Here, don't let me hog the talk."
"You wouldn't happen to be the young lady who's getting herself whipped as the grand finale today?" The Senator asked hopefully.
A cold hand touched Ilona's spine, but she forced her voice to be casual. "I haven't even heard of that." She admitted. "I'm only a slave, y'know. There's lots of things Cicely doesn't tell me."
"But it could be you, eh?" He could not hide his hunger.
"Well. . yes. I suppose it could."
"Not too fussy 'bout the idea either, are you?"
He was understating her fear. "To be whipped a little can be terribly exciting."
She said lightly. "But the sort of thing you've described. . Ugh! It could be too awful."
"The girl doesn't want to talk about getting her ass whipped, Elmer." His wife chided with feminine scorn for male insensitivity. She turned to the handcuffed girl.
"I've given him permission to go to the local whore house, but the idiot thinks he'd like something along your lines around the house."
"Same as Cicely." Said Elmer brightly.
"It's not as impractical as you may think, Mrs. Hardwick." Ilona was inwardly chuckling. "A slave like me mustn't be regarded as a person. For instance; if you bought me you should regard me as a pet, a pretty plaything to be whipped or caressed according to your mood. I suppose I could perform some useful chores."