Drusilla

9 Discipline

“Elbows hurt?”

“Yes.” Drusilla turned to the woman driving the car. “You didn’t need to tie them—not so tight. My wrists would be enough.”

Mrs. Pendleton chuckled. “Keeps you tractable and makes your tits stick out. What’s it feel like, going through town naked?”

“We’ll be lucky if the police don’t pick us up,” Drusilla sniffed disapprovingly. “Someone gives me a double take at every red light.”

“Keeps your cat wet,” Belinda assured expansively.

“You sure look cute with the handcuffs on your ankles. Makes a nice change. Keep snuggled well into the corner. You were sensible not to choose the trunk; damned uncomfortable in there.”

“I’ll try and be sensible, Mrs. Pendleton. I don’t want to be terribly punished.”

“Call me Belinda, honey. And I’ll help out on the sensible business by keeping you hogtied.”

“Hogtied?”

“Figure of speech, love; You’ll just be wearing something so you don’t run.”

“I’m completely helpless.”

“Well, don’t bitch about it. This isn’t routine. You’re in transit.”

“But why the Albertsons?”

“Can’t keep you at my place, sweetheart. Homer would fuss.”

“Why can’t I stay with Diana and Ginny?”

“You’d all get comfort lapping each other’s cunts. Best you be separate. I’m even taking the chick from the mother hen.”

“Please don’t be cruel to Ginny.”

Belinda chuckled. “I’ll be as cruel as I want. That perky pigeon is a dish. But I’m not all bad. little Ginny’s my ace in the hole. Any time Diana balks at something I want, I’ll just trice her sweet little daughter up by her wrists and whip the little darling steady until Mama decides to behave. Think of the possibilities, honey. Diana would walk through fire to save her poppet from a licking. I’m going to have Madam walking tightropes.”

Drusilla thought of it with aching heart. It was foolproof. Her darling Mistress was lost. “Am I going to be whipped today?” she asked forlornly.

“Quigley will probably want to. It’s his thing. Dammit, Drew, I’m getting a charge out of this! I can do anything I damn please with you three. Anything! I own three cunts, two used and one virgin, and six tits and boobs... ! It’s staggering. ”

“Couldn’t you be satisfied with just me?”

“I could if I had to. You’re sweet. You’re a natural, aren’t you? I mean, you love it all?”

“I don’t love these ropes on my elbows.”

“Yes, you do. I can tell. There’ll be a stain on the seat....” Belinda contemplated her blessedness. “It’s out of this world, Drew! I keep looking for kickers but there aren’t any. Nobody’s going to go to the police. None of you can escape. I’m the luckiest woman in the U.S. of A.” She spared her captive an amused glance. “If I stopped the car right now, would you want to get out and go looking for help?”

“No!” It was an alarmed negative.

“See? You’re foxed! The lot of you. Not that I’d make the offer to Ginny, she’s an impetuous kid. I’ll keep her well corralled.”

Drusilla knew her familiar shame at the flare of lust that engulfed her from this vivid awareness of impotence. Bound and delivered! She was Belinda’s chattel. “Are you really going to do that cruel thing to Diana?” she asked anxiously.

“What cruel thing, honey?”

“That—you called it a ‘Ritual Flogging’?”

“Oh, my little drama! That’s going to be precious, Drew. You’ll want to watch, won’t you? Darling Ginny’s going to have to. I bet she’ll kick up a fine old fuss. Probably have to gag her.”

“But Diana hasn’t done anything!”

Belinda’s guffaw was instant. “Yes, she has. She was born a beauty, and she’s Diana Winslow. That’s enough. Besides, she’s upstaged me too often. I’ll adore lacing her back. I’m just wondering how big a crowd to ask in. It would be wasted on just the kid.”

Drusilla felt butterflies in her tummy. “Flogged!” It sounded too awful to contemplate. Diana was handcuffed and locked in the cell with nothing else to think about except that she was going to be triced up and her back slashed and lashed with some beast of a Whip. Ginny would suffer the same agonies of suspense as her mother. Her indignation gave her poor comfort. Drusilla recalled the day before and the restless night.

“She can’t possibly do that awful thing to you, Mummy!”

“You mustn’t get all het up, Ginny pet. There’s probably going to be a lot of this sort of thing.”

“I’ll scream the place down.”

“Ginny, cool it. What happens, happens. I’m so damned helpless I could weep.”

They had been a sad and ineffectual trio. Belinda had finally unchained Diana’s neck. But she and her daughter were helpless with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Belinda had laughingly told Drusilla her hands were locked in front so she could “help out.” The small cell had seethed with naked frustration. Ginny’s hesitant apprehension had been pathetic.

“Will she really whip my breasts, Mummy?”

It had stared them in the face. The implacability of their bonds and the grim bars, and Belinda’s laughing threats. Or were they promises!

“I’m collecting pubic hair. I pull ’em out one at a time with tweezers.”

The threat had sent Drusilla’s hands to clutching her crotch. But no one had laughed. Diana’s black fronds flaunted themselves as though in daring.

“Mummy, she won’t do these awful things! She won’t!”

And then the pathetic amendment. “Will she?”

It had been a very female captivity.

“You were asking about Quigley,” Belinda mused. “I suppose you realize he’ll fuck you?”

“No!” The rejection was violent. And then: “Why would he?”

“You’re a slave girl, that’s why, honey. You’re available. ”

“Against my will?”

“Don’t you find that a cunt curler, sweet? I do.”

It was! Drusilla knew it was! Her flesh was a traitor. She thought longingly of the captivity she had lost. “Don’t let him,” she pleaded, struggling ineffectually in her distress. “Tell him he mustn’t. You could tell him... ?”

“Those two really conditioned you.” Belinda was amused. “Might say you were ‘tongue tied.’” She chuckled at her pun. “Quigley will be a nice change for you. But remember this. He expects you to enjoy it. Act sulky, and he’ll do things to you that’ll make you howl for him to have another try.”

“What things?”

“You can easily find out, love.”

That was her life now. To be a plaything, a receptacle for lust and lash. Two days ago she could have added love. But that was gone! The soft breasts and pungent curls were locked in a cell. Even their owner’s hands had been taken from them.

“Well, here’s Minnie,” announced Belinda as she steered the car up the short drive to the waiting figure at the front door of the Albertsons’ not inconsiderable residence. “You should try and look pleased. She adores you and she’s thrilled to bits over what you’ve become. She’s damned near a slave herself.”

“Oh, Drew!” Minnie’s hands were clasped in delight.

“You’re tied so beautifully! Did you tie her, Belinda?”

“Best way to keep a quail sensible, Minnie.”

“Minnie, get me out of this. It’s gone far enough. Please!!!”

“Give her a licking for that. About five, I’d say,” Belinda advised heartily.

Minnie never managed to cope with life. She allowed it to flow over her. “Oh, I will, I will!” she assured. And then, anxiously. “You won’t mind, will you, Drew dear?”

“Of course I mind! Minnie, you absolutely must make a stand. Let me loose!”

“Poor dear’s been under a strain. But better raise the ante to eight—and make ’em hard.” Belinda’s voice had lost some of its bonhomie.

“Oh, dear!” Minnie looked compassionately at the bound woman in the car. “A whole eight strokes right at the start... !” She visibly swallowed her concern and added brightly. “But, of course, it could be worse, couldn’t it?”

“Don’t be inane, Minnie. You don’t have to baby her. Just make sure she doesn’t get loose.”

By an effort of will, Drusilla remained mute while the handcuffs were taken from her ankles. Silence might be golden while Belinda was around. She could work on Minnie later. She suffered strong hands to pull her from the car, and a blanket to shield her naked bondage for the short journey to the house. She looked around hopefully but there was no one and nothing in sight.

“I’ll phone you, Minnie.” Belinda was urgent. “I’ve got me things to do. Don’t you get softhearted with her, now! Quigley will have your ass!”

Alone, the two girls assessed each other. Between their previous social intimacy and this moment there lay a chasm of things unsaid, unknown and undone. Minnie whisked away the blanket.

“Oh, Drew, you’re so beautiful!”

Her admiration was unfeigned. Her eyes were soft. “I don’t feel beautiful. I feel—dejected.”

“It’s having your elbows tied, darling. Quigley does it to me. It hurts gorgeously and pulls your shoulders back and sticks out your breasts—and a girl sways when she walks. Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come!”

“Minnie, I didn’t come. I was brought here, delivered like a sack of potatoes!”

Minnie giggled. “Isn’t it a lovely feeling?”

“Never mind the feeling! You absolutely MUST let me go! I’ve got to do something about Diana and Ginny! Please, quickly!”

“But I couldn’t possibly!” Minnie looked askance as though at a suggestion of treason. “Oh, darling, don’t keep on at me about untying you. I just can’t!”

“You can!”

“No—Oh, you don’t understand... ! There’s Belinda and Quigley... and a sort of trust—and doing the right thing—”

“Untying me is the right thing. Quick!”

“Oh, but it isn’t! Oh, darling, I have to give you eight strokes now. Don’t make me have to give you any more!”

“You don’t have to give me even one.”

“I do! Oh, dear—! Really, Drew, you must try and understand. I mustn’t lie about it—and they’ll check for the marks!”

“You mean you’re actually going to cane me or whip me or something... !” Drusilla gazed at her companion in dawning realization.

“What else can I do?”

“Let me loose! You must! You must!”

Minnie’s face betrayed her concern. “Darling, if you keep on like this I’ll have to give you more than eight. It bothers me so your pleading like this. I thought we were going to have such a lovely time together. Comparing well, comparing the things that get done to us, and our marks, and our pussies... Oh, Drew!”

Minnie was a dear. The bound girl longed to take her in her arms. Drusilla swayed her bound shoulders in irritation at such helplessness. Minnie Albertsons’ intransigence was as defeating as the ropes deep in her flesh. Defeatedly, she asked “What must I do now?”

“I thought we’d have coffee, darling, and a few giggles.”

“I can’t drink coffee tied like this, Minnie.”

Minnie brightened. “Oh, I can look after that, Drew!” The chagrined captive could not forbear sarcasm. “Does the coffee come before or after you’ve whipped me?”

“Oh, let’s leave it till after!” Minnie was a child again.

It was hard not to laugh! Or to cry! Or to have hysterics.

It was all too absurd! But in its simplicity, frightening! Sitting naked on a kitchen chair by Minnie’s kitchen table, Drew watched her ankles ringed by handcuffs once again. She was already collared: all Minnie had to do was attach a chain. The chain led to a ring in the wall above the chair. A padlock completed this domestic captivity. Then, and not till then, Minnie loosed the ropes.

“Poor darling!” she exclaimed as the weals proclaimed themselves at elbow and wrist and were massaged for a moment by tender hands. “But I won’t rub them too hard. They’re so lovely. We may as well let them last. Comfy, Drew?”

Drew was comfy! This, too was ridiculous. But the fact could not be denied. Her joined feet meant nothing unless she tried to walk. The chain tether on her neck was similarly innocuous unless she tried to run away. Her arms and hands were free. She flexed them luxuriously. “I’m chained for coffee,” she said with a reluctant giggle.

“That’s right dear. Quigley does it to me all the time.

Everywhere in the house there’re rings.” Minnie beamed proudly. Then added anxiously “You won’t try anything silly? I mean, you can’t possibly get away.”

“Minnie, you’re sweet.” Drew sipped coffee. “If you’re my jailer, you’d better keep me chained. I don’t want to get you into trouble, but, if I get a chance to run, I’ll run.” She frowned. “Would you be punished if I did?”

“Oh, of course!” Minnie proclaimed the obvious. “I’d be terribly whipped. Or put in the dungeon for the longest time. I don’t like the dungeon—it’s so lonely.”

Drusilla used her unaccustomed freedom to reach out and pat an ann. Minnie was precious! But Minnie would also be another link in her chain. A vulnerability... How could she hurt her? “I’ll be a good girl,” she promised. “At least I will while it’s you who’s responsible.”

Minnie glowed. “I think it’s so lovely, the way it is with you and me. Fancy us not guessing before—all that time! I often look around at people and think how sad it is: not knowing... ! Haven’t you seen how unfulfilled most of them look?”

Drusilla was willing to concede the point. Minnie was as happy as she herself had been up to two days ago. But now she was obsessed by a vision of Diana’s naked back...! Her voice was urgent. “Minnie darling, Belinda says she’s going to flog Diana.”

“How lovely! I expect we’ll all be invited.”

“Minnie, how can you—?”

“But, darling, I’ve been flogged. I expect you will be, too—sometime.”

“But it’s cruel! Medieval.”

“Well, it’s not quite like that,” Minnie said as though describing a new rug. “There’re no bits of metal in the lash. There aren’t even any knots. But they use an awful whip. I know which drawer Quigley keeps his in, but I’ll never even peek. I hate it! The really awful thing about being flogged is the big production they make out of it.” She giggled. “A girl feels like a side of beef hung up to cool before it gets cut up.”

“Hung up! Oh, Minnie!”

“It is sort of bad,” the cheerful jailer conceded. “You’re hung by the wrists with your arms way out to either side. Then they do the same for your feet. They get tied down to rings in the floor.” She repeated her giggle. “You can imagine what your pussy looks like.”

“It’s awful!”

“Well, yes, but it doesn’t happen all that often. I’ve only had it once. Quigley was awfully sweet to me after.... ”

“You keep saying ‘they’?”

“Well, there’s Belinda and Homer and me and Quigley, and we used to invite Diana. There’re some other couples, a sort of group. We sort of gravitated... ” Minnie grinned. “It makes a girl feel terribly important—spread and tied like that, and all naked.”

“I’d die!”

“No,you wouldn’t. You’re scared, but you’re the star turn. Without you there wouldn’t be a show. It really does things to your pussy.”

“Minnie, you’re incredible. Give me another cup of coffee and tell me what you and Quigley are going to do to me now you’ve got me.”

“Well, half of you belongs to Belinda. I’m not sure.”

“Belinda says your Quigley will make me have intercourse.”

“He doesn’t usually call it that,” Minnie snickered. “You can guess what he does call it. And he doesn’t call your pussy a pussy either—and we’re not supposed to. You’d better watch that. He’s got punishments for everything.”

“He’s your husband! You mean you don’t mind?”

“I’m sort of hoping he won’t do it to you,” Minnie admitted. “But I’m pretty sure you’re going to get passed around to the other men. You see, darling, you’re a slave... ! I’m a slave, too, but in a different sort of way. You’re owned by a woman.”

“I wouldn’t have thought a woman would have wanted a mess like that inside her slave.”

“I really don’t know. I’m afraid they expect to get a big bang out of your reactions.”

“You mean they’ll stand around and watch while I get—”

“They call it ‘fucked’,” said Minnie innocently.

“On a bed?”

“Oh, darling, that’s not very probable. They think up the darnedest—”

“Oh, there you are! Got a cup for me? Hello, Drusilla.”

“Hello, Quigley.” Drusilla had to force her hands to stay where they were.

“Don’t bother about covering your breasts. I understand.” He beamed impartially at both as though a chained and naked woman at his kitchen table was no novelty. “We’re glad to have you with us. We’ll make sure you don’t escape. Matter of fact, I came home early in your honor.”

Quigley regarded his captive guest with grave courtesy.

He was not a bad looking man, but business had stereo typed him to match his sober name. It seemed incredible that he could whip a girl. Drusilla had always liked him in their infrequent meetings. That she should be his prisoner was one of the oddest shaped bits of the jig saw that was now her life. She poured all the appeal she could muster into her voice.

“Quigley, I’ve got to escape! I just have to—it’s Diana and Ginny—”

“She doesn’t think Belinda should give Diana a flogging,” Minnie contributed helpfully.

“Do Diana a world of good,” Quigley declaimed grandly.

“Put her feet back on the ground. Every woman needs at least one.”

“Oh, Quigley!”

Perhaps he was joking! His humor was dry to match his mien. The outrageousness of what he had said made it suspect. Drusilla pressed forward. “Look,” she pleaded earnestly, “let me loose on parole so I can go home and release Diana and Ginny and get things back to normal there. Then I’ll return and surrender myself to you.” She looked at the blank faces of her captors, then struck the table with clenched fists as to make the cups rattle, and her voice became desperate. “Honest! I will! I will! I give you my word!”

“Isn’t she sweet?” said Minnie after a long silence had greeted the captive’s outburst.

“Drusilla is a very nice person,” Quigley agreed soberly.

“Well, then?” Drusilla looked from one to the other hopefully.

Was there sympathy in Quigley’s regard? His voice was sober. “I’d be inclined to accept that assurance,” he said slowly. “But I’m afraid it’s not practical.”

“But why?”

He smiled kindly at his prisoner’s flushed face. “A matter of ethics. We are obligated to Belinda. The whole situation is almost entirely her prerogative.”

“I don’t see that Belinda matters.”

“Oh, but she does! Each one of us matters. What Belinda is doing is no more than a logical sequence arising from what you and Diana were doing.”

“What we were doing was voluntary. I wasn’t kidnaped.”

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that what you were doing was the dream? This is the substance.”

It had occurred. Drusilla cringed inwardly, even as her loins flared. The chain on her neck and the steel upon her ankles now were unquestionably more coercive and captivating than anything she and her mistress had contrived. “Let me go,” she said sullenly. “Just let me go... ”

“You are subject to the whip, Drew. Don’t forget that... in the things you say—your attitudes.” Quigley’s admonition was strangely kind.”

“Whip me all you like! Give me the flogging when I come back to you. And I will come back. I promise!”

“You haven’t seen the most important reason for not releasing. you,” Quigley continued gently. “It’s Diana. You give Diana her freedom and there’s no way she’s going to allow you to come back here. She won’t be bound by promises.”

“But I’ll explain—”

“A free Diana isn’t going to listen to explanations, Drew. You know that. Diana will be a raging fury if she’s freed. Halfway through your explanations you’d find yourself flat on your face, her knee in your back, and your hands tied.”

“Oh, Quigley, don’t be so—”

“Well, it’s true! Isn’t it?”

It was true! Drusilla knew defeat. Diana was the stronger. In a tussle, she would win—just as Quigley had described. She had nothing to bargain with. This, then, was the reality of slavery—a total subjugation to the will of others. She glimpsed a frightening vista. “Are you going to keep me— always? Never let me go?”

The phone rang demandingly.

Drusilla’s urgent question was dissipated into limbo as Quigley lifted the receiver. He responded with quiet monosyllables to the distant voice. Then turned a puzzled gaze upon his captive.

“Drew, stand up. Turn around—both ways.”

Drusilla obeyed. Why not! Her nakedness belonged to everyone but herself! When, at a motion from him, she resumed her seat, he returned to his caller, his voice incisive: “No. Nothing new.” He listened attentively, then responded. “You may rely on it.”

The two girls exchanged wide-eyed apprehension. They had guessed. Quigley returned to his coffee, each of his casual words ominous: “It appears we have some unfinished business.”

Nobody answered.

“And why is it unfinished?”

“Well, it hasn’t been that long—”

There was little optimism in Minnie’s assertion. Drusilla quivered in anticipation.

“A matter of eight strokes—?”

Minnie fidgeted. “Well, we thought we’d have coffee.”

“Ah!” It had a portentious sound. “No doubt you were both prepared to forget—?”

“Oh, Quigley, don’t make a big thing out of it. Belinda dramatizes... ”

“But we have rules, dear. A code.”

“All right then!” Minnie abandoned a weak defense. “I was lax. I let it slide.”

“And you, Drew? I gather you were quite content?”

“Of course I was!”

“Ah!” Quigley sounded triumphant. “Now we are getting there! Minnie, you may undress.”

“But, Quigley! Just for that? You mean I’m going to be punished?”

The delinquent wife’s indignation was tempered by the same excitement that was fanning Drusilla’s smoldering fire. Minnie achieved nudity with surprisingly few motions.

“I thought it was me who was supposed to get them?”

Drusilla exclaimed naively.

“You may rest assured you will,” Quigley responded gallantly. “But we have here a case of negligence. It will be summarily dealt with. Minnie, touch your toes.”

“Yes, dear.” Minnie was breathing rapidly, her attractive breasts in agitated motion.

Four vicious cuts with a cane that had appeared from nowhere. Drusilla flinched with each. Fresh red bars joined faded lines on Minnie’s humbly proffered posterior. The bent nudity gasped and swayed but managed to last the course. Minnie wept the hurt tears of childhood.

“Four will be adequate,” said Quigley grandly. “Thank you, dear,” Minnie sounded relieved.

“You may stand, but do not dress. And now Drusilla!”

“Oh, all right! How do you want me?”

“You must not sound bitter, Drew. You are taking part in a simple process of justice. You may adopt the police search pose. We will move the table.”

Drusilla discovered the humiliating quality of voluntarily offering her person for punishment. Mostly she had been bound, relieving her of participation other than as a recipient. What Minnie had just done seemed heroic. She recalled, cringingly, the act of holding out her hands to be caned. Doubting her fortitude, she turned and faced the wall, her palms on each side of her tether.

“Feet well back and wide apart.”

Drusilla could comprehend the posture’s value. She was shamingly vulnerable. Looking cringingly back she saw the cane that would cut her and the man who held it. Why oh why hadn’t she had the sense to keep quiet in front of Belinda! She might have known!

“Minnie, you were given a directive. You will now obey it. Eight strokes. Hard!”

“You’re much better at it than I am, Quigley dear. Couldn’t you... please?”

“M—i—n—n—i—e!!!”

“Yes, yes. All right. I just thought—” She accepted the cane and looked appealingly at the girl she must punish. “I’m terribly sorry, darling—”

“Minnie, you have nothing to be sorry about. Drew has earned punishment. You administer it.” Quigley had a gift for logic.

“Don’t mind me, Minnie,” Drusilla ventured forlornly. “Would you mind not looking at me, dear? I feel so embarrassed. I feel so badly—”

“Would you like four more, Minnie? You are nude for that reason.”

“No, no! Oh, dear!” Minnie bestowed another apologetic glance upon the girl she must cane. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to hit you awfully hard, Drew.”

“It’s all right, Minnie. I understand.”

“Well, now that we’ve got that settled—!” The male voice said clearly that enough was enough.

Coming from Minnie, the blow was surprisingly painful and shockingly accurate. Drusilla clenched her jaw. She must try and behave so that poor Minnie would not get into further trouble. She arched her back to show good intentions. Her bottom reared.

Drusilla was competently thrashed. Minnie’s expertise could be attributed to her husband’s influence. It was out of character. As an earnest show of good faith she made number eight a memorable slash that extracted a reluctant moan from the owner of the bottom.

“Excellent, dear! Lovely marks.” Quigley sounded proud. He turned to the punished slave girl. “You didn’t feel obligated to remind Minnie of her lapse, Drew?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“A pity! It was delinquency. You understand?”

“Yes, Quigley.”

“Stay exactly as you are. There will be two extra. I will administer them myself.”

“Yes, Quigley.” Drusilla knew one of her legs was visibly trembling. The pain and the pose were hard to cope with.

“You will find them salutary.”

Why the devil didn’t he come right out and say he was going to hurt her like hell? But Quigley was Quigley. Mechanically, Drusilla said: “Thank you, Quigley.”

Her handcuff had been loosed from one ankle to enable her to obey the command to “spread her legs.” Now, when her master cut her cunningly between her thighs, Drusilla yelped and flailed one foot so that the loose steel jerked and jingled. In the midst of her agony she repeated over and over to herself. “One more! Only one to go.” She was certain that had the number been greater, stoicism would fail and her pose crumble. Grimly, she tensed motionless.

Quigley changed sides. The cane sang.