"You're putting me on. You! A pet!"
"Why not! Look at me!" Ilona turned full circle. "I've got a nice body and I'm helpless. I have to do what I'm told."
"You know the first thing Elmer would want you to do." Marian Hardwick hinted darkly.
The nude girl laughed. "You'd have to draw up some terms of reference." She embraced them both in her warmest smile. "It would be between yourselves as to whether the senator fucked me, and at what times, or whether my pussy wasn't to be used."
"I'll be go to hell!" The senator was visibly moved. His complexion had become even more florid.
"And if I was ever de trop or sort of redundant you should have a cage to pop me out of sight, or maybe a nice little cell?"
"First thing I'd do with you is whip that impudent little ass." Mrs. Hardwick affirmed. "You're altogether too damn cool?"
"Is my darling misbehaving?" Cicely Woods's tinkle of laughter took charge.
"Senator, I can see a light in your eye. No, this exquisite creature is not for sale at any price. She is beyond rubies."
"I could swing the Colorado Concession your way?"
"Not even for that."
The senator sighed. "You got too damn much money, Cicely." He cocked a bright and eager eye. "Say, is this little trick the one who gets whipped after awhile?"
"Whipped! Why, senator, as if I'd allow such a thing!" Butter would not have melted in Cicely's mouth.
"C'mon, now. The word's got around."
"You've frightened the poor dear? and she's so sweet?" Ilona was led away by firm fingers towards the bar. She sucked desperately at the straw held to her lips, her eyes bright upon the woman who held the glass.
"Darling, you're trembling?"
"Cicely, it's true, isn't it? What he said?"
"My poor pet!" Cicely's whisper was loaded with love. "Are you terribly frightened?"
"Of course I am. Oh, Cicely. .! Please tell me it isn't true? Please. .?"
"It's true, darling."
The glass was lifted once again for red lips to seek solace from the straw. The slave and her owner were very close, eyes locked, their vibrations merging as one.
When the cocktail was gone Ilona admitted, wryly: "You're right, I am trembling."
"There's a logic about it. Don't you see??"
"It's my punishment? The one that's been hanging??"
"Two birds with one stone, darling. D'you mind?"
"A Roman holiday? Because I ran away?"
"Sweetheart, you put that so well."
"No, Cicely, I don't mind." Ilona's heart was racing. "My pussy's going crazy down there. .! But, darling, to have me whipped in front of all these people. .!"
"It's going to be a beautiful and glorious spectacle. A ritualistic whipping of an errant slave. Darling, every one of us is going to remember it always."
"Me especially." Ilona was holding tight to equilibrium, telling herself she had known she would be whipped and that all the spectators didn't matter. They had already seen her naked. It might be better than to hang by her wrists day after day. . Quaveringly, she asked: "Cicely, is this the whole of my punishment, or is there more?"
"I won't tell you, pet. After all, you were a naughty girl."
"Yes, I know. I? I won't complain. You've really been terribly sweet." Ilona's voice faltered. "Is it too late to ask to have my ankles ironed instead? You did mention it. . '?"
"Too late, beloved child." Cicely kissed her frightened slave. "Ironed ankles, for you, are a bit impractical. You've become a part of my life. Can you see yourself walking around in this room with all that metal on your feet?"
"Oh alright, Cicely, but I sort of had to ask. I'm so damn scared and ashamed. I'll scream and scream? I just know I will."
"Of course you will, darling. Everyone will love it." Ilona Paisley examined the proposition that she would be fastened naked and flogged for the delectation of people like Elmer and Marian Hardwick. Once, briefly, her limbs had been freed and she had run away into the hills. She wanted to be punished for that stupidity, sharing with her mistress a conviction a punishment was just. But all these watching eyes. . ! They would double and treble her agonies. Breathlessly, she pleaded:
"Punish me worse, Cicely, something really awful. Pain between the two of us without them watching?"
"Darling, you're panicking. You don't need anything worse than what's going to happen. Believe me, you don't! But it will be over today. Isn't that better than a punishment that could go on and on and on'?"
"Well. . perhaps."
"As part of your punishment you must now go out and let anyone talk to you who wants to. Be sweet and cheerful and do try and sparkle a bit?"
"I'll try. I've got over the first shrinking embarrassment."
"I know they'l all want to buy you and ask a lot of silly questions." Cicely's voice had become matter-of-fact. "But you can handle that. Oh, and if any of them want to handle your pussy you'l have to let them. They're always curious about how wet a slave gets. Or maybe how dry she manages to say. O.K.?"
"I'll be a good girl."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
It was like 'Sports Day' at school. A pounding heart, the spectators out there waiting, the last minute admonitions. Her owner's voice was urgent: "Darling, except for your collar you're bare. You look so damn sweet. . ! I want you to walk slowly and very erect to the whipping post. Al the guests will be scattered along the way. They'l close in and follow along behind as you pass. You must look at the post and nothing else. Never look at them, make like they're not there."
"Cicely, who's going to whip me?"
"I am. Hate me?"
"No. I'd have hated it to be Nora or Josh."
"I'll be merciless, darling."
"Of course. You must be. And it's O.K. for me to scream?"
"Hold back as long as you can. After that they'll expect it. Away you go, pet. Sorry it's such a long walk but that's part of the ceremony, darling. You're a penitent on her way to the stake."
"Isn't there a final touch you've forgotten, Cicely?"
"Mmmmmm? Why, of course!" Cicely instantly understood "Poor darling. You're going to feel all hands again during the long walk, and it's out of character for you to be totally free. Turn 'round."
This time it was rope. The slave winced but made no sound as her wrists were crossed and the rope bit savagely, far, far too tight. But for that short a time it would not matter. Ilona understood the strictures as a final admonition. She was grateful. Slaves should never be freed, it imposed too great an emotional stress.
Head high, eyes focused on the distant stake, Miss Ilona Paisley stepped out into the sunlight.
This time there was no chatter, no cocktails. No one was blase. As Ilona walked her measured paces she was aware of eyes, they focused and followed. Behind each pair would be an emotion, perhaps a wish: some to hear her screams, to watch her writhe while the weals formed. .! Here and there might be sympathy. To most she could only be erotically contoured flesh punished for their amusement. Approaching her destination, the naked girl beheld Nora waiting, her feet still trailing the heavy links of the ankle irons, her eyes alight with concern. They exchanged smiles of wisdom in their sisterhood of pain.
On each side of the post was a strap and buckle, looped.
To reach them her arms must be raised above her head. Ilona looked at the simple things by which she would be held. Behind her, Nora tugged at the cords so recently knotted. When her hands fell free, Ilona took the few remaining steps and positioned a wealed wrist within each leather circle. Nora tugged again to make the leather bands a part of the woman they would render helpless while she screamed.
Strap and buckle were neat and tidy without loose ends. They compelled their naked captive to face the post, breasts touching the wood to tease pink nipples. When the whip started its play with her she would have a choice of flattening her nudity against the vertical timber or bending back to writhe and twist in pain. "Nothing round my waist, Nora?" She asked in whispered surprise.