"Of course." The young eyes twinkled. "Or does Paisley Publications have a dungeon?"
Best to keep it light. Ilona chuckled. "I wouldn't keep you in a dungeon all the time anyway. It would be a waste of gorgeous girl. At home I've had a room prepared."
She laughed at the memory: "The lies I told to get the work done. . !"
"I'm ready, Mistress. We can send for my stuff another day. I brought a small suitcase with me. Being a slave girl is awfully handy, y'know? no clothes!"
"You'll come home with me on trust, Susan?"
"Oh, you mean about getting carved up or sold to a brothel!" Susan negated such ideas by a wave of gorgeous hair. "You're not the type, Mistress."
Ilona Paisley wondered if the thudding of her heart could be heard in the elevator.
Its pounding was actually painful. The ride to the underground garage and her private stall was the most pregnantly exciting of her life. Susan reached and held her hand, the platinum beauty was utterly at her ease. If she was being delivered into slavery, no one would know.
In the car, Susan once more advised on what was proper.
"We mustn't drive back like this, Mistress." The younger girl was genuinely shocked. "You must tie my hands, behind my back of course."
"But what could you do! Susan, I mean??"
"I could get out and run. I could push you out and steal the car. Please, Mistress, we have to start sometime."
"But you wouldn't do those things!"
"How d'you know? If you'd just punished me cruelly and I was angry, running would be most natural? You should never give a slavegirl the least chance. Tie me."
"But I can't, I haven't any rope."
"Mistress, please. . !" Susan's tone was almost severe. "Fortunately I've got some cord in my bag."
Ilona accepted the loops of nylon. Stupidly, she admitted: "I've never tied a girl. . or anyone."
"I can tell that. If you fumble I'll try and set you straight."
The cord imparted a new sensation. Ilona ran its length through her fingers, breathlessly conscious of its purpose and her own intent. But she felt only dismay when her insouciant companion turned on the seat and crossed her wrists behind her back.
"Always make me cross my wrists. That tie is the most positive." Susan's instruction were cheerfully patient. "But if you want to tie my elbows too, then you have to tie my hands palm to palm." Susan peeped back over one shoulder and winked. "The elbows are for when you don't trust her, or if she's good at getting loose."
"What do you recommend now?"
"My recommendation is purely selfish, Mistress. You shouldn't trust it."
"Let's have it anyway"
"Since its only cord and will hurt like blazes I'll plump for my crossed wrists."
"Thanks. Now put your hands palm to palm."
"Oh, Mistress!" The long sigh was ecstatic. "That's so much better. I was beginning to wonder."
So far so good! Ilona picked up intense vibrations and returned her own. Feeling inadequate but excited, she passed the cord twice round the passive wrists.
"That's right, just two or three strands. That hurts me if I struggle. But get 'em over and under and round and round. Then cinch 'em through the centre."
Such a sense of power. And such a flame of heat! Ilona tugged, she circled and tugged again. She found the centre and plied her cinch. The soft skin was exquisitely indented by her strength.
"Now make me struggle. Then take up the slack." Susan was heavily involved in what was taking place. "See, like this."
It was pure beauty. Ilona Paisley sighed in happiness and wondered what she would have done without her slave. She patted her work in approval and, grasping strained shoulders, turned their owner back to normal on the seat. "You've forgotten my elbows, Mistress."
Feeling foolish, Ilona turned the complaisant slave around and used more cord.
Susan had been right, the thin stuff did indeed bite cruelly into maiden flesh. She used strand after strand to minimize the pain.
"Now you sort of push my elbows together with your forearms while you pull on the cord." Susan explained helpfully.
It worked. Ilona grasped the technique. When she was finished the two bare elbows were tight together, pinioned painfully.
"You've done better than I thought you would, Mistress." Susan struggled and twisted. "I really don't believe I can get free." She peeped back mischievously. "What about my ankles?"
"You mean I have to tie them too?"
"If the door opened I could leap out and run. Mistress, you have to watch slavegirls, we're tricky."
"Oh alright. If you say so. But there's not much cord."
"You'll find handcuffs in my bag, Mistress. Use them, it will save you bother."
Handcuffs! Ilona's heart leaped. Pictures of handcuffed maidens ran through her mind. She had always wondered why arrested girls were so routinely robbed of their hands when put in the police car. She had guessed at motives. . ! Now she held the bright chrome circlets in her hands.
"They're not meant for ankles, Mistress, but they will go round, just the first or second notch, or maybe tighter while I'm sitting. When I stand the tendons swell."
So many things to know! Ilona clasped hard and managed two clicks. The shining metal was lovely over the sheen of nylon. Susan was now completely helpless. Susan belonged to her. She owned Susan, and there was nothing Susan could do about it anymore. Her breasts were heaving.
"Do you wish to gag me, Mistress? It's considered wise."
"I don't want to. But, should I?"
"You should. There's two in my bag, a rubber ball affair and a band with a rubber phallus. Don't be shocked."
Ilona chose the phallus, it seemed more practical and less obscene than the ball.
By virtue of Susan's uncomplaining cooperation she inserted the beastly prong and strapped it tight. Susan winked slyly and relapsed into the corner of the seat. She had become an exquisite platinum package, totally enslaved.
The woman who had been Miss Ilona Paisley of Paisley Publications started the motor and drove up into daylight.
"This is your room, dear. Ooops, I forgot!" Ilona tugged at straps and took the wet phallus from Susan's mouth. "I had to unlock the handcuffs so's you could walk.
Shouldn't I untie your arms'?"
Susan wet her lips with an impudent tongue. "I'm not supposed to have anything to say about that, Mistress." She explained demurely. "But while you're showing me around I ought to be helpless."
"But your elbows. . ! They must hurt. . '?"
"They hurt terribly. I have to put up with it. Mistress, remember, I'm a slave."
"But I don't want to be unkind?" Ilona felt herself slipping. "Oh well, I'm sure you know?"
The girl with hurting elbows looked around with bright interest. Ilona had the feeling she was looking for something, something seemingly not there. "It's a really lovely room." Susan breathed gratefully. "Are you going to keep me here sometimes?"
"When, it's your's." Paisley publishing sensed hidden depths. "I'm a great believer in a good night's rest."
"Yes, of course?" The lovely young features were still seeking. "Mistress, could I see your room, your bedroom? That would be fun."
It was the same thing again. Ilona felt like the curator of a museum whose visitor finds the dinosaur skeleton less than expected. "You've got a lovely home, Miss Paisley." Susan ventured uncertainly, "But what about the evening. . the night?"
She turned limpid but enquiring eyes upon her uneasy companion. "I mean, am I a nine to five girl? Slaves are supposed to stay slaves all night, y'know"
"Oh dear, you mean there aren't any??"
Susan laughed. "That's right, there's nothing. Not a chain, a ring, a post, a bit of rope, no whip hanging on the wall as a reminder?"