Golden Wrists

8 Scarlet & Purple & Gold

Everything was wonderful! The Wharf imposed it’s magic and our master was in rare form as a host. I think even Margo forgot her resolve beneath his charm, the music, and food, and the subdued excitement forever seething beneath the surface of such ultra expensive restaurants. But when she went to the restroom and failed to return. Hugo shrugged without concern and sent me in search. I was still his slave until midnight and did as I was told.

Margo was killing time in front of the big mirror. I sensed relief in her greeting. Clinging to me, she implored, “Oh, Diane, darling, tell me what to do. I got all ready to slip out the back way and go home when all of a sudden I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Am I going crazy?”

Hugo had given me handcuffs, the ones I loved. I took them now and possessing Margo’s right wrist, clasp first one cuff and then the other snugly tight upon her skin while she watched without a single peep. When she stood looking at the shinning metal she could not escape, she accused, “You want me to go back to Hugo, don’t you? Do you really thing it’s what I ought to do? Diane, I’m lost!”

I led her back to our table without saying a single word. To Hugo I remarked carelessly, “These are my handcuffs on her wrists, please don’t forget.”

At the end of a long evening we returned home happily to our chains. It is said girls are crazy.

As always, my office was a vast relief, and I determined to have a showdown with Hugo including a bold request to be released from my promise. Hugo now possessed another girl who was probably capable of far more amusing reactions than I, and he would lose nothing but a sulky girl who could serve him better as a lawyer than a slave. I was determined to do this in a friendly manner, if possible, but to do it anyway I had to. Margo served the dual purpose of taking my place and salving my conscious. I went to work with vigor and the vision of a fresh start all around.

In the afternoon it happened! Andrew Everleigh did not bother to knock but walked in and took the client’s chair with a casual assurance which told me I was in for trouble. He smiled in greeting and went straight to the point.

“Miss Durrant, you’re making a nuisance of yourself.”

My heart was thudding painfully. Visions of chains and dungeons were vivid in my mind. I could feel the force and power of this man. His attitude was calm and benign but there was strength and authority underneath the smile. With a levity I did not feel, I shot back at him, “Lawyers are supposed to make themselves a nuisance. Mr. Everleigh. Especially when their efforts for an out of court settlement are ignored.”

Uncle Andrew cocked an amused eye; after all I was only a female who had been a slave who, when given authority, had scorned it and took flight. I wondered if I was on the verge of being kidnapped once again.

“You’re a good girl and not a bad lawyer,” he ventured. “Constance and Betty both like you, and Elizabeth Lord phones my secretary every day, hoping you’ll return. You’re in demand.”

He was up to something and I had the feeling I’d find out what very soon. Striving for composure, I asked, “Did Elizabeth return to her husband or have you got her in a dungeon?”

“She’s back home and thinks she’s won the toss.” Uncle Andrew chuckled. “Her old man has a few things up his sleeve for her she doesn’t know about. So have I. Your beloved Elizabeth is marking time until your return,” He gave me his familiar searching glance. “How about this afternoon?”

Fear clutched at me like a live thing. I cursed myself for a fool to ever believe Everleigh had forgotten me, or would let go of his hold. I hardened my voice and tried to keep the trembling out of it. “I’m through will all that, Mr. Everleigh. You can’t walk in here, like that and whisk me away. The only business you and I have is Hugo Markham’s claim.”

“Damn it, girl, I like you! I’d describe you as a mixture of the stuffily erotic, mothballs in one hand and a horse whip in the other. Will you come quietly or do I have to take steps?”

“I’ve no intention of going anywhere with you, Mr. Everleigh. Now, about the claim...?”

Uncle Andrew was never dull. What he took from his pocket now widened my eyes - a pair of golden handcuffs. “Left wrist, Diane.” he said calmly, “Stick it out.” Even as I obeyed I knew myself a fool but there was something hypnotic in Uncle Andrew’s eyes and his billions were an invisible presence, like a ghostly army of armed men. “Had these made expressly for you, Diane. Nicely feminine but fully functional. You’ll enjoy the way they feel.” Carefully he fitted a golden jaw around my wrist.”

Everleigh was right. The jaw closed with almost soundless clicks to invade me with sensations. The metal was smooth as silk and fitted my wrist to a perfection ordinary handcuffs never achieved. They were warm from Uncle Andrew’s pocket, and when the second cuff followed the first, a sensual glow possessed my being. Striving hard to remain a lawyer unaware of heat within her loins. I icily inquired. “Aren’t you being childish, Mr. Everleigh?” I got no answer. Sarcasms ran off Uncle Andrew like water off a duck’s back. I was aware of disadvantage and retrieved my gold-encircled wrist.

“It’s not pure gold, you understand,” Everleigh apologized.

“There’s special steel beneath that pretty surface. Gold is a rather soft metal and we can’t have you getting them off without permission. When you want to wear them properly, let me know.”

Aware of being played with. I nursed my gold and felt a fool. I tried not to think of wooden boxes equipped with straps such as I think I had made my last trip to Rockley in. “Surely you don’t expect me to walk around in public with those things on my wrists, do you?” I asked bluntly.

“You’re forgetting I have a private car and a private jet,” Everleigh said gently. “The people who will see you once those things are behind your back could care less.”

“Behind my back!”

“Certainly not in front, can’t have you making an unseemly fuss.”

Once more the fear. It would be so damnably easy. Andrew Everleigh’s vast wealth would capture me and make me a prisoner with an ease to make me shiver. But my tone was sulky, “You’ve just lost a pair of handcuffs, Mr. Everleigh. Unless you wish to take them off right now?” I offered my gold-encircled wrist.

“I’ve got a place in the Bahamas where I intend to keep you prisoner, Diane, my dear.” Uncle Andrew was patient. “I could take you back to Rockley but that’s a too familiar scene. What you’re going to find in the Caribbean is a return to the old days of slavery on the sugar plantations with the rolls reversed. It’s you who is going to be the slave and cut the cane.”

“You’re dreaming. But please don’t let me interrupt.” He was enjoying himself and continued his discourse in a cultured Scottish voice. “There’s everything there to revive the ancient days. Your jailer will be a mulatto and I’ll put Constance in residence to look after things between my visits. I’ll be regarding this as something of an experience so I’ll keep an eye on you. When I think you’re sufficiently abject. I’ll take you a step further.” He spared a truly warm smile. “The question is. Diane, do you come willing or do you insist I use force?”

“The whole thing is too ridiculous to consider.”

“I would like you to walk willingly into this new segment of your life clothed in nothing but those handcuffs. Even if I am long in the tooth. I still have an eye for a beautiful naked girl in chains. I know you understand.”

“Could we return to the legal business of Hugo’s claim, Mr. Everleigh? I find your fantasies distasteful.”

“Ah, yes, business! That poor boy’s claim and the nuisance you’ve been making of yourself. As a concession to you personally, Diane. I’ll make Hugo Markham an offer of one hundred thousand dollars.”

“That’s in insult.”

“If you willingly yield to my car and plane, I’ll raise it to a million.”

I tasted victory but was still a lawyer. “Two million is the barest minimum. And that’s only a fraction of what he claims is his right.”

No one could win with Andrew Everleigh. From an inside pocket he withdrew some folded papers. “I have everything here, ready to sign. I figured on the two million, so everything is in order. It will need Markham’s signature.” Everleigh spread the papers out flat on the desk and looked me squarely in the eye. “I’m not really settling a claim, Diane. I’m buying you. These documents won’t get my signature until I have you safely handcuffed and firmly committed to being once more my prisoner. What do you think of that?”

“It’s crazy! No lawyer would sell herself into slavery to settle a client’s claim. Mr. Everleigh, please give me a break.”

My plea was waved off. “We all know the unusual circumstances relevant to what we are about to do.” Uncle Andrew said, evenly. “You’re probably half in love with Hugo Markham, but remembering when you were at Rockley, I’ll make a shrewd guess you’re getting hot between your legs. Now about that situation in the sunshine I’ve just offered ... Believe me, it has intriguing possibilities for you. And let’s not call it slavery but a special vacation. And you’re not my prisoner, but my possession. I value you, Diane.”

“I sell myself without receiving a penny!”

“You’ll have no need of money, not ever again.”

What a package, the most incredibly messed up situation any girl could face. I knew Uncle Andrew was easily reading my mind, knew also it would be useless to protest, but I was still female. “What you’ve told me of this ‘situation in the sun’ sounds horrible,” I said. “Would you care to tell me more? Something that might intrigue me just a little?”

“You’re already intrigued, my dear. No, I’ll tell you no more, you’ll have to take me on trust, the same as at Rockley. But get this straight, Diane. I’m offering you a deal. Two million for the settlement of Markham’s claim, and I’ll sweeten the pot with a trust fund of a million for yourself. I don’t know when you’d ever use it, but in your state of mind it will give you comfort.” He winked a wise old eye. “Money cures everything for lawyers ... Doesn’t it!”

I sat there stunned, gold on my wrist and a million dollars hovering before my eyes. I’m only human and I am female. When Uncle Andrew pushed the papers at me and rose to leave. I felt a feminine anxiety. “You can get Markham’s signature on these. And when you’re ready to yield yourself to me and wear those handcuffs properly, you can give me a call at the number you’ll find on the letterhead. When you hands are safely locked. I’ll hand you the trust company’s certificate for your million. But I’m damned if I know what you’ll do with it.”

Uncle Andrew raised my golden hand and kissed it and then was gone.

For long after my would-be owner closed the door I sat in dazed elation. Even though the price might be my freedom, I had obtained for Hugo his heart’s dearest wish. With my own bribe, I had won three million dollars for us both. And for the life of me, Andrew Everleigh’s outline of his Caribbean island and my place thereon simply was not real. Somehow the absurdity would iron itself out with Andrew Everleigh proving himself an English gentleman and keeping me as his guest, perhaps prettily retrained, in some ancient estate for a month or two or three ... What did it matter. I had a million dollars!”

In this state of euphoria I phoned Hugo. I expect I was incoherent for he arrived in record time and the first thing he said was, “What the devil’ s that thing on your wrist?”

I told Hugo about the whole thing and showed him the papers.

We read the papers carefully and found them in good order. There was nothing cheap about Uncle Andrew. No matter how I tried to keep them out of sight, the golden handcuffs constantly intruded until Hugo produced the universal key. He unlocked one cuff and swiftly fastened it again on my opposite wrist. “If that old bastard thinks he’s going to steal you away, he has another thing coming. If it means parting with you, I don’t sign a thing.”

“Two million for you. Hugo? One for me; It’s very handsome”

“Piss on Everleigh’s millions. He thinks he can buy anyone and do anything. He’s not getting you, and if we loose the millions, so what!”

Hugo was always surprising. His declaration now sent a wave of heat throughout my body. We had never spoken of love but had fallen into an easy friendship that was warmer than I had realized. But while this left me wildly exhilarated on one hand, it deflated my enthusiasm with Everleigh’s millions on the other. Breathlessly I suggested, “Let’s get the money, Hugo. And let him play out his fantasy with me. If I’m not back in three months; you can do something. I’ll leave you my million to look after expenses, if there are any. I won’t be having pockets or handbags.”

“You mean that old fool wants you naked!”

“Well, yes. Let’s go along with him for the three months. Or if you don’t like the three months, make it two. Anything you like.”

“You’re getting horny just thinking about it. You want to go.”

Hugo was hurt.

It’s difficult for a handcuffed girl to hug a man but I did my best. I was beginning to feel like the most wanted girl in the USA but I was torn between loyalty, love, and dollars and cents. When Hugo led me from my office, I did not resist. It was one of those times when a girl is thankful for a man knowing what to do. When he got me home, he stripped me bare and cuffed me by one wrist to a ring in the wall. Hugo decided to go and make coffee while I did what he described as ‘think it over’.

I didn’t want to think, what I wanted was a terribly expensive dinner in a plush restaurant to clear my mind of millions, Caribbean prisons, and the question of what to do next. I had stood there several minutes before realizing Hugo had relieved me of decision:

When I absent-mindedly started for the bar to mix a drink, I was abruptly reminded of my status as a slave girl It was a very gorgeous feeling of belonging to Hugo and hoping he’d keep me locked up and safe. After the restaurant, of course!

“Get any ideas,” Hugo asked when he returned with coffee.

“No, I’ll leave the whole thing to you. May I please sit down?” With an air of long suffering. Hugo took me from the wall but locked both my hands behind my back. All I had gained was the privilege of sitting beside him on the couch, but I was grateful for even that. He helped me with the coffee while thinking aloud. “I don’t see how that old devil dare kidnap you. He knows I’d raise a stink.”

“You wouldn’t do that if you thought he’d take it out on me. Hugo, dear, let’s be realistic. And, please, may I have my hands?”

“The idea of him holding you like that is preposterous. The whole thing is preposterous. And, no, you can’t have your hands.”

“Where’s Margo?”

“I’ve got her tied to the pole downstairs. A few hours of that won’t do her any harm. Look, sweetheart, if this old Scottish bastard wants a girl to be mean to, let’s give him Margo?”

“He doesn’t really need girls, Hugo. He’s got a prison loaded with them in Rockley. For some reason of his own. I’ve aroused his erotic instincts and he wants me and no one else. Hugo, I’m scared.”

“So you want to sell yourself for three million bucks? Is that it?”

“Not really. But I thinks it’s best if I go with him. If I don’t, he’ll take me by force and I’d hate to be strapped up tight in a crate or getting a needle jammed into my arm and waking up goodness knows where. Just two or three months...?”

“No. You belong to me. We’ll show this old goat there’s something he can’t buy. But can’t we show Margo to him, he might like her?”

“Go ahead, Hugo, introduce them but you’re running the risk he’ll take her, too. There’s nothing cheap about Uncle Andrew.”

“I’d phone the old fart if I didn’t think he was bluffing. But if he’s playing it straight it would tell him where you are. In your frame of mind, I can’t trust you, Diane. You’ll stay the way you are. I like it.”

“But, Hugo, you’ve got me naked and helpless. Don’t you understand it makes me a package ready for picking up if he or some of his boys broke in here.”

“That isn’t going to happen. But if it did, they’ll have to kill me first. And then take you anyway. The worst enemy is yourself and this erotic dream he’s planted in your mind. That’s what I have to protect both you and myself against. If I take you out to dinner, will you promise to come back here like a good little girl afterwards?”

“Of course, Hugo. I’d love that. But are you sure you don’t want all that lovely money. I mean, I will do all you tell me but it seems to me a shame to pass up three million dollars.”

“Damn it, girl! I’m no slave trader. I’m not selling you or any girl for cash. Can’t we take my claim to the courts and get the money that way?”

“That’s still uncertain, Hugo, dear. But I think it would be less uncertain indeed if I allowed Uncle Andrew to get possession of me.” I bestowed a sly glance of assessment. “I don’t think we have to call it ‘selling me’. Couldn’t we sort of think of it as renting me out? Or, better still, renting myself. I’d love you to have all of that money ... Master?”

Hugo was only slightly mollified. He kept my hands cuffed behind my back until it was time for me to dress. And even then I knew he hated to free me. I was not allowed to have a look at Margo, she was not included in the dinner plans. For a girl who wished to have her spirit broken, she was getting her money’s worth. Considering I was a girl contemplating indefinite enslavement, I enjoyed dinner very much. But Hugo was morose and was having a hard time sorting out three million dollars, his integrity and the possession of my person. The hell of it was I couldn’t help him but had to be touched by his evident concern for my welfare. He kept muttering about me being locked in dungeons or being beaten half to death and then being handed over to a bunch of blacks for their enjoyment. I told him he’d been reading too many novels. And there we stuck.

Everything had changed. Or should I say Uncle Andrew had changed everything! I no longer wanted to sever my ties with Hugo. In choosing between the two: Hugo or pending enslavement. Hugo won hands down. He had me and he could keep me so far as I was concerned. If he didn’t want his two million dollars, that was his affair. It sounded simple and logical but I knew it wasn’t. Hugo might truly believe he could best Andrew Everleigh, but I knew if it came to a tussle of wits, or money, or sneakiness, he didn’t have a chance. I didn’t bother to ask myself what the hell I really wanted myself - I didn’t know!

Hugo’s male ego insisted I be naked and handcuffed on our return home. And, if that pleased him, I wasn’t going to argue. The golden handcuffs had taken my fancy and felt good upon my wrists. I had missed them at dinner and felt sure I would recapture their magic when they bit again. I went straight to the lounge to undress and pour the brandies while I still had hands. But once inside the door I stopped in my tracks in surprise.

Margo Hammil stood against the wall, her wrist was locked to the ring in the manner by which slavegirls were parked. I had never seen her more radiantly happy.

Sitting comfortably upon our couch was Constance and Andrew Everleigh. They had found the brandy and seemed well content. Hugo went straight to the point, “Get the hell out of here!”

“Don’t be angry,” said Uncle Andrew soothingly. “We’ve only just arrived and had a pleasant chat with the young lady over against the wall. This brandy is not at all bad, and, in case you’re interested, I have a key which fits most doors. Please do sit down.”

Hugo could probably have made mince meat of Uncle Andrew but that would solve nothing. I smiled at Constance who, smiled right back, but it was to Uncle Andrew I spoke. “Mr. Markham doesn’t want to accept your offer, and he doesn’t want me to, either. The papers will be returned to you. I’m terribly sorry.”

Uncle Andrew sipped the brandy with appreciation. I dragged Hugo to a chair then sat on his knee and put my arm around his neck in a way I had never done before or even thought of doing. It’s strange how you can sleep with a man without really becoming intimate. Uncle Andrew was not fazed. “I suspect you’re doing that for my benefit,” he suggested slyly. “I was young myself once but look back on it as a bit of a bore.” He looked at us mischievously. “Oh, by the way, there’s been a change of plans.” Hugo’s tension eased somewhat. “I’ve come here.” continued Uncle Andrew, “to take delivery of Diane Durrant. But when we looked around we discovered Miss Hammil tied to a post downstairs. She explained she is partial to such treatment so I’ve decided to divert her to my castle in place of Miss Diane Durrant. I’m sure you approve?”

We approved but dared not say so. There are times when fate is just too kind, and you wonder if the axe is still about to fall. Hugo asserted his position as a host with a declaration, “I’m glad you made that decision, Mr. Everleigh. I had considered that possibility myself. Miss Hammil is a most charming woman, appreciative of any kind or length of rope. But so far as Miss Durrant is concerned, she is my property and I intend to keep her”

He sounded a bit pompous but the speech went over well. I refilled glasses and good will flowed. Darling Margo was given a half glass of brandy which she immediately drank down on an empty stomach, ignoring the possible effect. “It’s a nice idea to leave a slavegirl with one hand free to do the chores and look after herself. Margo behaved delightfully and did not even ask to sit down. She was excited as all get out.”

“I am taking Miss Hammil to the Caribbean to fill the position intended for Miss Durrant,” said Andrew Everleigh calmly. “I contemplate a mutually satisfactory association.”

“I hope you’ll be very happy,” said Hugo.

“You really don’t mind?” I spoke directly to Margo. “Gosh, no. I can hardly wait!” I suspected the brandy was beginning to take affect.

“Constance will make sure she will not be whipped beyond her capacity,” Uncle Andrew said regally. “Should you wish to visit, please feel free to do so at any time.” I shivered as might a maiden delivered from a snake-pit but inquired. “There was the matter of money, Mr. Everleigh. What are your feelings on this matter?”

The ancient billionaire was in a benign mood, probably due in part to Hugo’s brandy, partly to the beauty and incredible figure of Miss Hammil. He said, “If Mr. Markham will be kind enough to sign the documents. I will attach my own signature and the transaction is complete. You will receive your check within a few days and may I wish you every happiness.” He mused thoughtfully. “Should your conscience bother you about Miss Hammil, please feel free to visit my estate and satisfy yourselves her chains are not heavier than she can bear.” He smiled lovingly. “You may also inspect the other delights to which she will be subject. With all the money you’ll receive, you may wish to fill in a bit of time in your retirement.”

I suddenly realized I possessed hands, and with breasts and other parts still covered. I got off Hugo’s knee and knelt in front of the man who held us all in the power of one hand. I couldn’t make much of a speech but said, “Thank you, oh, thank you!” over and over again, and meant every word until Constance interposed.

“I’d be glad for a length of rope, Diane, if you’ve got one handy. I like to tie a girl’s elbows tight behind her back when she’s in transit. The poor darlings get such silly notions of escape.”

As Constance went about her task, I watched in a fascination prompted by memories of biting rope, shinning steel, and the delightful pain that comes from extremely tight strictures. If Constance’s predication about Margo ran true, she would have fought, but she did not fight. Instead she stood very erect as her wrists were locked behind her back and her elbows bound in what I knew had to be a most painful constriction. When she asked for one more brandy, I wasn’t sure whether to give it to her. But Andrew Everleigh nodded and I held the glass to her lips. She gulped down the potent liquid and I knew that, at least for the first part of her journey, she would be feeling no pain. In fact, she looked as if she would be enjoying the experience immensely.

Uncle Andrew took the floor, “This whole business of possessing slavegirls is extremely basic and its origin is way back in history. Possessing a slavegirl, or several slavegirls, is a desire inherent in every male. Every home should have at least one, or perhaps more according to the man’s substance. At home, at Rockley, I have a considerable collection in a cage. I am sure Diane has told you of it. A strange facet of this wish is that no matter how many we have, we are always prepared to purchase one more. I seem to recall that King Solomon owned three hundred of the little dears, or was it a thousand. I forget. It is a precedent we should no ignore.”

“Look here, Sir, you don’t intend to be cruel to this girl, do you?”

Hugo was once more being Male.

“Don’t disturb yourself. Mr. Markham. Slavegirls enjoy a certain amount of cruelty and despise a master who never uses a whip. I am sure Diane will acquaint you with female inclinations upon request. But I suspect you have already dealt with this subject. I have little doubt her skin is marked.”

I suggested we retire to the office and sign the papers, mostly to inform Hugo that we should quit while we were ahead. Uncle Andrew couldn’t be on his way too soon. If I hadn’t known Margo was in her heart’s delight, I would have tried to do something, but what the hell can you do for a girl who would fight you if you tried to free her? Margo was still tight bound against the wall with a slightly silly smile on her face. I could tell that she was getting high on more than just the brandy and envied her such a great love of pure bondage. I mean, I like being tied, but she adored it! We signed the documents with a fine flourish of satisfaction and Uncle Andrew and Constance departed with their prize. It was the biggest sigh of relief I’d ever heaved.

“Good gosh, that was a streak of luck!” Hugo said happily.

“Damn it, this is a lot better than I’d ever dared hope. Sweetheart, are you okay? I mean your conscious doesn’t bother you about anything?”

“Only about Margo, but there’s not much we can do about her. She sold herself.”

“Don’t let’s drink too much of this stuff, Diane.” Hugo’s suggestion was close to an order. “I don’t want to get looped because I’m feeling the strain of all this emotion and tensing myself up tight for your honor. Or something ... The way I feel right now...”

“I am sure I know the way you feel.” I was way ahead of Hugo.

Emotional trauma always makes a man long for intercourse, or to whip a girl’s bottom. Usually it’s both. “Okay, I won’t complain. Should I strip?”

I stripped, then held out my hands to be bound. I was excited and under pretty much the same influence as my master, the man who now owned me safely. But Hugo waved away my passive wrists and, grasping a handful of my hair, propelled me downstairs to whatever fate his male caprice might favor. I was meek as a lamb.

“You know I want to whip you?”

“Of course! I’m your property.”

Hugo fixed my hands above my head, well stretched but not too high. I would be able to kick and struggle to my heart’s content as he appeased his demons with weals upon my skin. When he strapped my wrists far tighter than there was any need. I found myself enveloped in such a flood of sensuality as to cause my breasts to heave and my lips to gasp in a totally illogical ecstasy of pure lust. I was every bit as bad as Hugo!

I had expected to be savagely flogged but in this was wrong.

Hugo was in a conversational mood to say nothing of having a huge erection which explained his fingering and palming of my pussy. The whole thing was delicious, and I refused to think of pain to come or how I would behave. I had put such maiden modesty behind me long ago.

“Are you happy, sweetheart?” Hugo asked. It was a ridiculous question but he was sincere.

“I’m so happy I want to cry,” I told Hugo without a single tear.

“It’s knowing you want me the way you do that makes me feel this way. You know I hate being whipped, but I want it right now in a way I’ve never wanted it before. Don’t bother about my screams.”

My nakedness was suddenly enveloped in Hugo’s hot embrace. I could feel his phallus longing for my sheath but contentedly knew it would be waiting when all else was done. I was the luckiest of girls! In a ridiculous mood of self immolation, I asked, “Are there other things you’ll do go be besides the whip?”

“Like what, for instance?”

“Well, a girl can’t ever be sure. Maybe stringing me up by my thumbs? Or making me sit on the edge of a plank the way you’ve told me about. I don’t want it. I’m just asking.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Hugo bit my ear and thrust hard at my bare belly as my breasts rubbed against his shirt. “You’ve never wanted anything more in your whole life than what you know you’re going to get. I expect we should both thank Uncle Andrew for this moment. Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for a long time. Please whip me, Hugo.”

Hugo whipped me with five swift, wicked strokes as if he could not contain himself. I knew he was thinking of Margo and wishing he had not so easily surrendered a guiltless girl to Andrew Everleigh’s tender mercies. If my pain eased his, I was content. I tried desperately to tell him how I felt but could only get out gasps and moans as I dealt with the pain as best I could. After the fourth stroke I began screaming.

It was a wonderful beginning.

“I’ve marked you enough, Diane,” Hugo said regretfully after the eight stroke across my burning bottom. “This is the third time you’ve been whipped in a few days. We’re going to have to seek fresh ground. Spread your legs apart.”

I wondered if I should be grateful. It had never been Hugo’s idea to whip me now, and when I had asked for it, I had also forgotten how severely marked up my bottom already was. What he was about to do to me probably made good sense, but as I widened my legs apart, I felt ten times more naked than before. When I had got my legs as far apart as strapped wrists permitted. I asked timidly, “Is that okay?”

“Splendid, really splendid! You’re a wonderful girl, Diane. Look, if you want me to stop right now. I will.”

“No, go ahead.”

The first upward cut between my thighs told me I should have stopped while I was winning, I knew Hugo would not stop now, having once given me the opportunity to retreat. I whimpered distressfully as this fresh burn spread venom through my secret place and beyond. The temptation to close my legs tight was almost irresistible, but I forced myself to stay wide and open. I coped with the agony by tugging with the straps and moaning.

“Pretty bad?” Hugo inquired sweetly.

“It’s bloody awful but don’t mind me.” I held my breath for thong’s second delivery of pain.

He gave me five swift, hard strokes up inside with a small whip he said was made especially for that purpose. I took his word for it. That little instrument punished me with an almost personal viciousness. At the end of five, I had screamed a couple of times and was sweating. I was given permission to stand straight for a short period of rest, during which I failed to think logically of anything expect the fire Hugo had created within my crotch. Once more I was comforted by male arms and male lips, and a punished girl’s hope of a speedy end. When Hugo did his familiar cupping of my pussy with his hard male hand, I went absolutely wild. “Sweetheart, you can’t possibly get away, you know,” he reproved gently.

“I know I can’t. I’m sorry Hugo. Jeepers, that hurts!”

“Spread them again. This time you’ll know what to expect.”

I did as I was told. What the hell else could I do! By the end of the second series of five, during which I screamed lustily, Hugo came around to stare at my sweat drenched breasts and scarlet thighs. “Haven’t you had about enough, sweetheart?”

I had had enough and was suddenly and unexpectedly freed of the straps and being carried up to bed. If I had harbored doubt about the ability of my poor, beaten pussy to perform the sexual act, they were scattered to the winds in a surging flood of sensual joy beyond any response I had ever given any man. If the fire had burned low in the night. I would have asked to be whipped again to make its flame flare. There was no need. In the morning I spent time before the big mirror admiring myself like a peacock. Scarlet and purple were much in evidence arid I did not have much desire to sit down. Hugo shared my pleasure, and it was not until after we laughingly argued about who mixed the pigments and applied them to my skin that we suddenly realized I was not handcuffed and bore no bonds at all, an omission instantly corrected by the golden handcuffs I was beginning to adore. Happily, we went to breakfast to talk about our three million dollars.

“I owe it to you, Diane,” Hugo said earnestly. “Whatever Everleigh’s interest in paying me may have been, without you being who and what you are it would never have happened. Look, sweetheart, you’re a wealthy girl now, and I’m wondering if you want your law practice or to be my prisoner?”

“I don’t see why we can’t continue as we are, with me being your prisoner one day and your prisoner the next. Remember, you’ve lost Margo. You don’t want to lose me, too.”

“Damn it, you know I don’t. But I can’t go on whipping you every other day.”

“I could probably heal swiftly enough to cope with five strokes on alternate days, Want to try?”

“Okay, it’s a deal. But, Diane, what about the rest of the time? Won’t it be a frightful bore to be handcuffed or tied to the wall?”

“Until it happens. Hugo, I really don’t know. I know what it’s like for a few hours or a day, but you and I are now talking long term. In a way, we’re planing a marriage.”

“You want me to marry you, I will?”

“No. Hugo, don’t be silly. Getting married would spoil the whole thing. Wait a while. If I get bored with the things you do to me. I’ll tell you fast enough. But it should be understood that won’t mean you have to stop. If it happens, it’s a problem I’ll have to cope with myself.”

It was delightfully intimate sitting there over breakfast. I made as much play as I could with the golden handcuffs on my wrists and knew the costly circlets were getting us both excited.

Hugo had a problem he had to voice. I had come to know him pretty well, and when Hugo had something on his mind. I could sense disquiet. I sensed it now.

“I’ve been thinking about Margo and old Andrew Everleigh.” he admitted. “I should never have allowed him to take her away, any more than I could let him grab you. I let him jump to a false conclusion.”

“But, damn it. Hugo. I’ve never seen the girl happier. Why worry about her?”

“Uncle Andrew thinks he’s got himself a delightful nymphet who will glow and twinkle and wiggle in his ropes. And he has. But I discovered something else about Margo he probably won’t like. Whenever she gets her hands and feet free, she puts up the damnedest battle to escape. It’s for real and she almost has to be beaten into submission. You and I know that’s what she wants, but Uncle Andrew doesn’t and that’s what bothers me.”

“Don’t worry, Hugo. Constance can deal with her. She dealt with me without any trouble.”

“Margo wants it done by a man. She doesn’t want a mistress, she wants a master. You know that. What’s going to happen is the two of them will be at cross purposes. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he brought her back and wanted you instead. It’s you he’s always wanted.”

“Hugo, stop worrying.” I raised my hands and clinked golden bracelets. “You’ve got me and we’re going to have ourselves a wonderful time. Damn it. Hugo. I’ve made you a millionaire, so stop worrying about a girl who doesn’t know what she wants”

Hugo brightened up, got himself another cup of coffee, and then started off in another direction. “It’s damned rummy, Diane, the way you and I have started off in this business of ropes and whips and chains. Not too long ago neither of us had heard of such things. And we would have scorned them. But everything thats been happening to us has gradually made us addicts.”

“I like it. Stop worrying the same way I’ve stopped worrying. Let’s talk about buying me a pillory and a set of stocks, and when I’ll get whipped again. Real fun things!” I sparkled at my master imploringly.

We tossed worry to the wind and became a very happy couple. But Hugo had planted a seed of unease in my mind. I was scarcely conscious of it then but it was to grow and flourish. I wore the golden handcuffs all that day.