Drusilla

5 Moppet

There was no beginning. It was preordained. Both women accepted it without debate. A force like gravity. Ginny’s laughing acceptance was the wisdom of Eve.

Time heals. They let it work its magic.

“We may as well live together,” said Diana the practical.

“No sense keeping two homes. We’re neither of us going to be exactly rich.”

“Your house,” said Drusilla. “It’s the nicest.”

“That the only reason?”

They could always be direct with each other. It made things easy. “You and Hinton were just—sort of marking time,” Drusilla said slowly. “I loved Bryce—terribly. He’s still there.”

Diana nodded. “Best for Ginny, too. No move.” She grinned. “But aren’t you forgetting... ?”

“The room!” Drusilla had not forgotten. “No! That’s his too. I don’t want to be—to be—put in there.” She leaned forward and kissed her pensive companion. “Selling my place gives us lots of money. Build a new room just the way you want.”

“You’d better have yours dismantled before you call the realtor. I’d love to see his face... !”

They employed the same contractor to do both jobs.

Diana dealt firmly with his hesitations and curiosities. Material salvaged from one was used on the other, particularly the bars and gratings. Since the project had been dumped into her lap, Diana insisted that Drusilla should see none of it until after completion. Then there would come a day... ! Only one of Drusilla’s demands was listened to: that there be daylight. She wanted no captivity beneath the glare of neon. The thud of hammers and the rasp of saws imparted to her a suspenseful and quivering anticipation.

Thus the practicalities.

Quaintly, Drusilla was not the Room’s first victim. “There’s no use sitting out a period or setting a date.”

Diana sipped her after-dinner coffee and gazed with approval upon a sleek Drusilla. “We didn’t wear black. No one does anymore. What’s bothering us is a—well—a sort of feeling of infidelity.”

Drusilla nodded. “We need an icebreaker.”

“I suppose we could get drunk,” Diana mused cheerfully. “But we don’t want to approach it like that. One of our troubles is a fear of anticlimax... But I’m ravenous for you. I want to talk about our pussies and the cane and the handcuffs... ”

“I’ve been going easy on account of Ginny.”

“Ginny’s no problem. The darling’s an asset, not a liability. She’s recovered from the funeral. After all, it’s over a month... !”

“Darling, I’ve left it to you. I’m really a novice.”

“With those marks you had. on your back! You’ve still got a few... ! That’s initiation enough.”

“Yes. But you know—well, you know what I am.”

“You’re a gorgeous submissive.”

“I’ll accept the role,” Drusilla agreed demurely. “But that leaves the ball always in your court.”

“That’s O.K. for now,” Diana glowed. “I’m a gourmet and you’re exquisitely edible. Go upstairs and strip. Let’s get back where we were.”

Drusilla was half out of her chair when she remembered.

“What about Ginny?”

Diana laughed delightedly. “Ginny’s downstairs.”

“You mean—the Room?”

“The Room, Dru’. Hurry.”

Drusilla leaped for the stairs.

It felt so good. It was reality. Drusilla examined her nakedness in the mirror and found it good. She guessed what awaited her. When she approached the waiting Diana she sank gracefully to her knees, head bowed. “From now on I’m going to call you Mistress,” she said softly. “I want to. I’ve always wanted to.”

“Hold our your hands, witch.”

The handcuffs slipped on to the eager wrists. It was a coming home. The clicks were music as the steel tightened. “Don’t ever let me loose, Di’. Not ever.”

“Silly. I’ll want to take you around sometimes and show you off. Come along now.”

A nude Ginny was pressed against the bars of the cell.

Her face lit up at sight of visitors. “Oh, Mumsie, you’ve left me here the longest time. Hello, Mrs. Hammill, isn’t this place a gas?”

The child was enchanting. As unselfconscious as a statue. Her acceptance of Drusilla’s condition was without affectation.

“Why are her hands behind her back, Di’?”

Ginny answered the query by turning round and wiggling a pair of handcuffed hands. “It’s so I can’t play with myself, Mrs. Hammill,” she said brightly. “Isn’t Mummy mean?”

“That’s one of the reasons,” Diana admitted. “But she needs restraint. She’s altogether too exuberant.”

“Don’t ever get put in this cell, Mrs. Hammill,” Ginny advised without visible dolour. “It’s awful. You can walk around and sit down and stand up but you can’t go anywhere. I’m frustrated to death. There’s absolutely nothing to do. I’ve been locked in here for ages and ages.”

“Six hours, poppet.”

“Well, it seems like ages. Please, Mummy, can I come out now?”

Without answering, Diana unlocked the door. Without knowing quite how it happened, Drusilla found herself inside with Ginny while the door clanged shut behind her back. The turning of the key was a thunderclap. When she swung round in laughing protest, Diana had gone.

“You should never trust Mummy, Mrs. Hammill,” Ginny advised sagely. “But I expect you wanted to be handcuffed?”

“You’re here, Ginny. It’s not as bad as being alone.”

“Well, no. And you’re here, too. That makes two of us.

I’m so glad. I was getting awful lonely.” Ginny was a girl who always saw the bright side. “But are you sure you want to be locked up?”

“I didn’t have much to say about it, did I?”

“That’s because you let yourself be handcuffed. Did you take your clothes off yourself, Mrs. Hammill?”

“I’m afraid I’m guilty on both counts, dear.”

“You don’t have to blush, not with me, Mrs. Hammill. I know how lovely handcuffs are, and being tied, and being naked... Mostly I only get to wear clothes when I go out or there’s company.” .

Drusilla had come to adore the radiant child whose life was now interlocked with her own. She cupped the happy face between her linked hands and kissed the full red lips again and again. “Don’t call me Mrs. Hammill anymore, Ginny. You know my name. Use it any way you please.”

“Oh, may I?” Ginny was delighted. “May I call you Drew? Like it was spelt with four letters?”

“Of course,” Drusilla laughed and looked ruefully at the bars. “We’re two girls together, aren’t We?”

“Oh, Drew, you’re so sweet. I’ve loved you for so long. But when you were Mrs. Hammill and I was just Ginny... ! I do so long to eat you. You will let me, won’t you?”

Drusilla knew herself blushing now for sure. “Of course... ”

“I don’t suppose you’re all that much older than me,” Ginny conceded generously. “I’ve always thought you awfully young. And you’re so lovely!”

“I wish I were as young and lovely as you.”

“Oh, but you are! With me you are, Drew. With me you’re about nineteen. Not a day older. So don’t call me ‘dear’ anymore. Call me something else. I think ‘darling’s’ nicest.”

“It’s easy to call you that. It’s what you are.”

“Let’s sit on the cot, Drew,” Ginny giggled. “At night we’ll have to sleep on top of each other. Did Mummy tell you how long she’s going to keep us locked up?”

“No. You saw how I got pushed in here.” Drusilla considered possibilities. “But she’ll have to let us out for—”

“She doesn’t, y’know,” Ginny said soberly. “Watch this.”

Suppressing an urge to laugh, Drusilla now saw why the plumber’s bill had been so large. With teen agility, Ginny contrived to pull back the thin mattress on the cot that suddenly revealed itself as a cabinet. Dexterous handcuffed hands managed to fling back hinged segments. Beneath them reposed toilet, washbowl, taps and buttons. There were towels and paper...and a drinking cup... !

“She doesn’t have to let us out, not ever,” Ginny said triumphantly as she flipped things back into place with a nimble foot. “Mummy could keep us locked in here forever. Isn’t it scary!”

It was scary. Drusilla knew a flicker of fear. The bars were implacable. She could believe that, without Ginny’s radiance, she might be screaming for release. She realized a sudden sympathy for claustrophobics. “But your hands... behind your back, Ginny! You can’t—!”

“Yes, I can, Drew. I’ve tried. It’s messy and hurts my wrists but it’s amazing what a girl can do if she has to. I bet nobody’s put your hands behind your back yet?”

“No. It seems so helpless.”

“Well, it is if you’re trying to defend yourself or something. Mummy can handle me like I was a kitten when I’m like this,” the youngster grinned reassuringly. “But now you’re in here, and with your hands in front, everything’s easy. What I can’t do, you can.”

The child’s happy confidence germinated a suspicion.

Drusilla trusted Diana implicitly. But suppose she had been thrust in with Ginny for a purpose! It was legitimately within the context of slavery that a slave be caged, kept behind bars, imprisoned! Diana could come and gloat through the bars—perhaps remove Ginny and leave her alone... ! Drusilla resolutely thrust the thought away. She would not voice it to Ginny and rob them both of the teenager’s effervescence. But a bit of it hovered in her mind. After all, no slave, no matter how loved, could expect to enjoy all that slavery might demand. Drusilla did not enjoy being whipped—not until the afterwards! Perhaps for all of it there was an afterwards...

“Ginny darling, have you ever been punished more than you can bear?”

“Oh, Drew darling, you’re not worrying, are you? You’re not thinking we’re locked in here forever?”

“No, silly, of course not. But it’s all so new to me. I’m not as brave as you about it.”

“But your pussy does get lovely and wet, doesn’t it? May I feel?”

The darling was irresistible. Half amused and half ashamed, Drusilla disposed herself so that the small, locked, questing hands could satisfy their curiosity. Their attention caused her sex to flare in demanding palpitation ..

“Oooooo! Oh, Drew! Mmmmmmm!” Ginny wiped a wet hand on a dry hip. “I knew you would be. Oh, I’m so glad we’re together.”

“I’m glad too, darling.”

“Even if it means being in prison?”

“Especially in prison, Ginny.”

“Now you feel my pussy. I know what it’s like. But I want your hand on it.”

Drusilla wet her palm. The youngster’s sex was throbbing. She had an impulse to thrust Ginny back upon the mattress and feed hungrily. But thought of a sardonic Diana happening upon them so engaged was dampener. Instead, she kissed the proffered lips and said huskily: “I love you.”

“You’re so nice.” Ginny rubbed a soft cheek caressingly against Drusilla’s. “If I had my hands I’d love you to pieces.” She frictioned happily for a moment, then giggled. “It was buying the handcuffs to get you a key, Drew. We’d never had handcuffs. All of a sudden it was so easy to clip them on me. You haven’t known, but there’s been lots of nights I’ve been sent to bed wearing them.”

“What, behind your back?”

“About half the time. I’m getting quite good at sleeping that way.” Another giggle. “I have to pull up the covers with my teeth.”

“That’s unkind of Diana—”

“Oh, no! Oh, Drew, it isn’t at all. I adore it—I thought you knew. When I pout and complain it’s mostly make believe. Mummy knows!”

“Ginny—have you always?”

The young lips sought and kissed Drusilla’s eyes.

“Mmmmm, you’re so yummy. But you are worrying. I can tell.” Ginny backed away, her eyes wise and sympathetic.

“I know about you and Mummy. She’s going to keep you always and you’re all shivery about what you’ve got yourself into.”

“Am I being silly?”

“’Course not. Mummy makes me all shivery sometimes.

It’s terribly exciting, even when it’s scary.” .

“Don’t you ever panic when you’re helpless?”

“’Course not. Mummy’s a dear.”

“But, I asked this before, aren’t there times when you just can’t take what’s being done to you?”

“Darling, that’s the whole idea! That’s why Mumsie ties me. She’ll tie you too. It’s the most wonderful thrill to know you’re really going to get it, and you can’t move.”

Ginny’s excitement was infectious. Her effervescent lubricity was an armour of protection. She blossomed in a land of enchantment Drusilla sought to explore. “Ginny, was there a beginning? Can you remember a time when—” Drusilla exhibited her handcuffed wrists, “—when things like this didn’t exist?”

“No.”

“Just like that? You mean—?”

“Why not, darling? Even in my first memories there was always a ribbon or something around one of my wrists, or my neck, or my ankle.” Ginny grinned in amused recollection. “As I got older, the ribbons and things sort of got joined. After awhile, Mumsie dropped the ribbons and just tied me with the things... bits of cord or string or strap. I say, Drew dear, these handcuffs are gorgeous, aren’t they?”

“They’re beautifully shivery ,” Drusilla laughed. “It’s you that’s gorgeous.”

“Am I? Oh, Drew, do you really think so? Do you like my breasts?”

“I love them. They’re sweet.”

“It’s awful not being able to touch myself but knowing anyone else can. I’d want you to play with them, but I’d go crazy wild. Want me to nibble yours? I think yours are much lovelier than mine.”

“They’re not, Ginny. You’ve got the most perfect cones... ”

Drusilla knew herself wallowing in lust. This innocently concupiscent child was everything her heart desired. A cornucopia of female magic palpitating with heated feminine longings. How lucky Diana had been, and how wise! Seemingly without volition, her cuffed hands rose, two fingertips kissed the already tumescent buds so that their youthful owner gasped in sweet agony. A moment later Drusilla was thrust back by eager female flesh while lips and tongue and small, cruel teeth found her nipples and fed upon them in avid hunger. Uncaring of consequence she sank back upon the narrow couch.

For what may have been hours, the small locked cell enclosed the beauty and wonder of female loveliness twisting and pulling against the shining steel that did no more than impede tumultuous love. Ginny, even with hands locked behind her back, took on all the sleek dexterity of a seal, turning and pouncing, her lips swollen with delight. Less handicapped, Drusilla discovered responses of which she had never known herself capable. They became two girls chained and ecstatically lost in a rainbow world the bars could not confine.

“I might have known this would happen.”

Two nudities tensed as Diana’s sardonic observation intruded on their felicity. Two flushed faced rose from moist flesh. Two pairs of eyes gazed guiltily at their jailer.

“We were just playing, Mummy dear,” Ginny offered brightly.

“So I noticed.”

Drusilla kept silent. She was uncertain of the gravity of her sin. If coping was possible, Ginny would know how.

With a gesture of disdain, Diana tossed a handkerchief through the bars. “Dry your lips, Drusilla. And Ginny’s, too. You can finish it off on your cunts. They both look as though they’ve been drinking beer.”

“You didn’t tell us we couldn’t, Mumsie,” Ginny ventured, looking up from where her obligingly spread legs were receiving Drusilla’s attention.

“But did I tell you you could?”

“I expect it’s my fault, Di—”

“What did you call me?”

“Oops!” Drusilla wanted to laugh, but was uncertain of the authenticity of Diana’s displeasure. “Sorry! I expect it was my fault, MISTRESS.”

“No need to overemphasize.”

“Very well, Mistress.”

“As to the fault. yes, you’ll be punished.”

“Well, you could at least have told us—”

“Drusilla!!!”

“You’re not allowed to complain,” Ginny prompted.

“You’re supposed to say thank you.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” The novitiate submissive was ashamed of the alacrity with which she repaired her lapse.

“Hmmmm, you are trying, darling. It will be five with the cane—and that’s being generous.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“As for you, Ginny: you knew better!”

“Did I, Mother?”

“Don’t be impudent. For you, it’s ten.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“No supper for either of you.”

They sat upon the couch. Two nude delinquents sentenced to punishment, respectfully attentive to their wardress beyond the bars. Handcuff chains clinked as captive hands betrayed their nervousness.

“And you can both stay where you are for a week.” Neither of the prisoners offered thanks.

“I know perfectly well you’ll do it again. But if I catch you out in it you’ll stand on your toes for a whole day.”

“Oh, M-o-t-h-e-r-r-r!”

“You needn’t ‘oh mother’ me, you little minx. And you’d better put Drusilla wise about what sort of behavior’s expected of her.”

“Yes, Mother. Could I have my hands in front now, please?”

“No, you can’t! Drusilla.”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Give me your hands.”

Drusilla’s heart thumped. “Oh, Di’, not me too!”

“That earns you two more strokes for the ‘Di’.’ Now, get over here by the bars.”

Drusilla was trembling; a strange mixture of anger and delicious humiliation. She knew herself owned. She knew, too, she was watched keenly by both her companions. This was a test. She was not sure what the test was, but it hung heavy in the air. Awkwardly, she thrust her locked hands through the bars.

“Going to be silly?”

“No, Mistress.”

Diana gave her small chance. She unlocked but a single cuff and held it firm against a bar. “Turn your back and give me your hand again.”

Drusilla realized this as one of the moments. Cliches sped through her mind: The moment of truth. Time of decision. Point of no return. She rejected them. She had made a gift of herself, so why deny obedience to her chosen mistress! There was also a delightful tingling up her spine. Meekly she turned and placed her free hand beside its captive twin and shivered visibly as the warm metal once more clicked it into custody.

“Oh, Mumsie! Poor Drew! It’s so strange for her.”

“She has to learn, dear. I can detect traces of rebellion. You must see if you can help her understand what’s expected. Maybe you can save her sweet little bottom a lot of strokes.”

Drusilla flushed and felt young and silly and about ninety percent breasts and pubic hair. The sudden loss of her hands and arms made her trebly naked. She tugged testingly at her locked wrists and knew she had lost them.

“Teach you what it’s like to be dependent, Dru’.” Diana was briskly cheerful. “I’m going to make you mind.”

For a moment their eyes met and they were Mrs. Hinton Winslow and Mrs. Bryce Hammill again. Drusilla’s eager smile faded against the authority of the metal on her wrists.

“Back up here again, Dru’ dear.”

Hopefully the slave obeyed. Perhaps Diana had relented!

Again her hands found their way between two bars.

“I don’t need them. Stand still.”

Drusilla tensed, then began to melt as beloved fingers caressed her neck, disposing her hair. For moments her breathing stopped as the leather band circled her throat and nestled snugly. A padlock made a decisive snap and imposed a tiny weight.

“Oh, darlings, it’s gorgeous!” Ginny sparkled her delight. The newly collared slave turned wonderingly. “Why—? I mean, what’s it for? It’s some sort of collar...!”

“And it won’t come off, sweetheart,” Diana gloated.

“You’ll have to wear it always. It’s my gift to you this day.”

“Oh, darling!” Drusilla forgot the dolours of her captivity. She thrust her radiant features against the bars, her lips pleading. The two women kissed in a tremendous need until Ginny broke the spell.

“Oh, Mumsie, can I have one like that?”

“No, you can’t, dear. I got it specially for Drew.”

“But it’s so lovely, and it really does something for a girl,” Ginny giggled. “It makes the rest of Drew look beautifully naked.”

“I can’t see it and I can’t touch it,” Drusilla mourned.

“I’d be ever so good if I could have one?” Ginny coaxed. “I’ll get you an iron collar, Miss Impudent, if you don’t shut up,” Diana threatened affectionately.

“I wouldn’t mind, Mother. I’d look simply scrumptious.”

“I’d make sure you couldn’t get it off. You’d have to wear it to school.”

“I’d tell them it was gold or silver or something.”

“I believe you would, you little baggage. If I did get you one it would have little points inside. You wouldn’t like it a bit.”

“Oh, Mo-t-h.e-r-r-r-r!”

“Isn’t she a darling?” Diana chuckled as she turned away. The prisoners heard her receding footsteps. A door slammed.

“A whole week! Oh, gollies!” Ginny’s return to reality was abrupt. “Oh, Drew, seven days—in here!”

“She’s just scaring us, darling.”

“You sure?”

Strangely enough, Drusilla was sure. Despite her less comfortable condition, the kiss and the brief communion of the eyes had given her a confidence she knew she should never have lost. Things had slipped back into place. The collar, harsh as it might become, clung lovingly to her flesh. “I’m sure ,” she affirmed jauntily.

“And no supper!”

Drusilla felt mischievous. “Want to bet we won’t eat?” she teased.

“Oh, darling, you’re so sweet. But don’t forget: You’ve got seven and I’ve got ten. D’you want to risk some more?”

“I bet your mother was stringing us along on that, too.”

“Oh, Drew, she wasn’t. I know Mummy.”

“But she hasn’t given them to us. She could have.”

“She’ll let us stew. It’s awful.” Ginny’s voice betrayed her delight in the awfulness.

Seven cuts with a cane across her bare bottom! Ginny’s certainly carried conviction. Drusilla shrugged. “We’ll just have to grin and bear it,” she said cheerfully.

“You and Mumsie have got something going, I can tell,” Ginny grinned shrewdly. “You’re feeling better. You don’t even mind being caned. I’m ever so glad.”

“I’m a silly girl. Your mother can do anything she likes with me,” Drusilla admitted wryly.

“She does anything she likes with me, too, darling.” Drusilla shrugged.

“There’s probably a difference some where. But don’t let’s worry about it.”

“Let’s rub our tits together, Drew.”

“How on earth can we? No hands!”

Ginny giggled. “I expect we can if I kneel up and you kneel down. You’re not much taller. Oh, Drew darling, is it very awful for you to be handcuffed like that?”

“Not when I’m with you, Ginny. Here, try this position. If you straighten, and I sort of hunch forward... !”

Before they fell asleep, they had forgotten their handcuffs entirely.

Somewhere in the dead of night a scented hand cautioned silence on Drusilla’s lips. Strong fingers clasped and pulled her from the warm entanglement of nudity where she had slept, and propelled her from the cell. She heard the door click shut upon a still unconscious Ginny, then stumbled after her mistress to their bed.

“I’m not punishing myself as well,” Diana whispered urgently into a complaisant ear. “I’m so damned hungry for you—” There came a brief pause. “Do you need your hands?”

Drusilla snuggled close. She was very happy. “Not really,” she said dreamily, “—unless you want me to—?” There seemed no need of words.

Soon she was busily employed.